Everybody wants to rule the world.

No, this isn't an analogy. There's no Trump joke here. Hell, I'm not even going to mention that this was the theme song to Dennis Miller's political talk show back in the '90s. (Dammit.)

It's about the song by Tears for Fears that reached #1 on the singles charts worldwide in the mid-1980s. Honest.

My morning routine involves the clock beside my head going off to the radio at 6:25. I'll hit snooze once, and at 6:34 the radio comes back on and it's time for the phone-in trivia show that gets my brain going. But, hey, jackass, don't fall back asleep, because there's a really annoying alarm clock set to go off at about 6:40 across the room!

If I've gotten up and turned off the annoying alarm, I'll occasionally listen to the song they play after the trivia thing -- and this was what they played on Friday morning. I haven't been able to get it out of my head since.

This is a song I've known since I was a kid, of course; I was 7 when it was released. And I know that our local-yokel AM radio station would play it... but I'm not sure I'd ever heard it on a decent set of speakers before.

There are a lot of layers here. It's catchy as hell. It's dominated by synthesizers, of course, but there's a decent amount of guitar in it (and a heck of a good solo; it's not complex, but that guitar tone is magnificent). It sounds very English, and the video documents English peoples' obsession with American culture.

This is all very weird, of course. I've never been a big '80s-music guy, and I can remember being annoyed by all kinds of bars that would have "eighties retro" nights in the 1990s. I mean, come on! It's the '90s, there's a ton of good music being made now, why do we have to listen to friggin' "Mickey" by Toni Basil again?! JEEEZ.

When I was in elementary school, I listened to a lot of '50s and '60s music. In high school, late '60s/early '70s stuff. As the years have rolled on, I've gotten interested in music from later and later, and I suppose I'm now into the '80s; the live version of "It's My Life" by Talk Talk slays me. What a talented band.

I started paying attention to music in the mid- to late-'80s, so maybe that's where I'll hit a ceiling in terms of musical obsessions. I've always enjoyed stuff from the '90s, so perhaps I'll just sorta dislike the late '80s; I don't really see any redeeming qualities in the musical stylings of Tiffany and Wilson Phillips, and I doubt I ever will. But hey, who knows?

Aw, that was a dumb post.

You see that gibberish I wrote below, just now? That was shit. I owe you more.

Here are some songs I like.

1. Dave Mason -- "Only You Know And I Know"

He was in Traffic with Steve Winwood, and released an excellent solo album, Alone Together. Definitely one of the underrated albums of the 1970s. Speaking of Mr. Winwood...

2. Steve Winwood -- "While You See A Chance"

Look, I know, I know. But, please just try to ignore the awful 1980 synthesizers and focus on the song, will ya? Also, keep in mind that Steve played all the instruments on this entire album... and engineered it, and mixed it. Talk about a solo album!

3. Lenny Kravitz -- "It Ain't Over Til It's Over"

Another guy who routinely plays all the instruments on his songs is Mr. Kravitz, although I believe he had a band behind him on this single. I remember seeing the Mama Said album in a Zellers when I was in high school, when it was new, but didn't buy it. I occasionally wonder how my musical tastes would've been shaped if I'd bought that album at 14, rather than at 21-ish.

4. Bob Dylan -- "Girl From The North Country"

I can only seem to find this alternate take from The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan sessions on YouTube; maybe Mr. Zimmerman is a little freaky about copyright. Anyway, this version is just as raw and haunting, and makes me leery of dating women from, say, Muskoka.

5. Blitzen Trapper -- "Wild Mountain Nation"

I first heard the Trappers while listening to KEXP, my favourite indie rock station from the Pacific Northwest. I stopped what I was doing -- probably making sweet love to your mom, let's face it -- and hopped on their website to find out who the hell this tornado of twang was. I'm sure glad I did.

There. Now I feel better.

Bands need to not try so damn hard to be great.

I try to stay ignorant of most modern mainstream rock (MMR) music. This has been true for about a decade or so; we had some signs of hope in the early-to-mid 2000s there, with your White Stripes and your Strokes and your whatnots. But, alas, bands like that have faded back into indie-like obscurity (or just called it quits and moved on), and it's back to crate-digging for your ol' pal J.

Something that irks me about MMR is how hard bands look like they're trying, when they're up there striking their rawk poses, hammering-away on the three chords they know, singing lyrics about heartbreak so earnestly (and in a manner that suggests their leg is caught in a bear trap), all the while hoping their mascara isn't running.

"We're trying as HARRRRRRD as we CAAAAAAAANNNNN!!!!"

It's irritating.

Knock it off.

Relax. If you've got talent, we'll see it.

Case in point: the early work of Dire Straits.

It's been a while since I saw this clip; I still love the song, of course. And, naturally, the Straits' stock-in-trade at that point in their career was laid-back pub rock, a genre I definitely enjoy.

The thing that strikes me most obviously is that they don't even look like they're trying that hard. Naturally, of course they're trying -- they're on stage, they know they're being filmed, and there's an audience they're trying to please -- but it looks like they're just chilling out and jamming, for the most part, and coming up with a fantastic song.

That takes talent, folks... something in short supply these days, that's for sure.

These songs, I like.

I hate most music.

...wait.

I dislike most music. "Hate" is a pretty strong word. (It applies to the works of Nickelback, though, obviously.)

But J, you ask, why do you always have to be such a prick about this shit?

Because I likes what I likes, and I'm nerdy about things, so go start your own blog if your knickers are in a twist already.

Without further made-up ado, here are some songs.

1. Fleetwood Mac -- "Albatross"

Yes, all the videos of this on YouTube are littered with fucking pictures of fucking albatrosses. Which is annoying. But, on to the music.

The word that first came to mind when I heard this song was "smoky." If we know three songs from the Mac, they're from the late '70s when it was all Rumours and whatnot. But this was from an earlier version of the band, which was very bluesy indeed. (And you know how I feel about instrumentals.)

2. Jimi Hendrix -- "Hey Joe" (live)

The studio version of this song is a little higher-pitched, which meant Jimi had to strain a bit to make the high notes. It added a sense of urgency to the lyrics, as if he himself was a witness to Joe's murderous acts.

This, however, gets coloured entirely differently. This live version sits down a couple of semi-tones, and Jimi's vocal delivery is much more relaxed. Instead of witnessing the murder, it feels like he's coolly retelling the story around a living room, with an air of detachment. Did he know Joe well? Did he know Joe's "old lady" at all? There's a mystery here which isn't in the studio version.

(And, yes, he plays the guitar with his face and behind his head, too. But whatever, it's showmanship, and the dude had an otherworldly talent with the instrument, and yes, I think he might have been an alien.)

3. Wang Chung -- "Everybody Have Fun Tonight"

Look, it can't all be guitar nerdery around here. Gotta keep it light.

It's not the lyrics, it's the voices.

I've made no secret in the past that I would prefer an instrumental song to one with lyrics -- and I've thought that it's because I genuinely don't care about what the singer's singing about, because they're usually singing about love, and isn't that weird topic to alllllways be singing about?, and who the fuck cares about you, I don't know you, why should I give a rat's-ass? (P.S., I don't.)

But I really think it's because a lot of singing-voices can get in the way of a good song.

In the past 20 years or so, in the post-vinyl, CD-cum-MP3 era of recording technology, engineers have been able to push recorded music louder and louder, because of the lack of any sort of physical constraint (i.e. needle in record groove). This is called the loudness war, and it's awful; I've written about it before, I'm sure.

A consequence of this is that, well, let's say there's a part of a song where there's only an acoustic guitar or a piano, and someone's singing on top of it. Because of ProTools and all other sorts of digital wizardry, that part of the song can be cranked-up so that its maximum volume reaches the same heights as the song's crescendo, which (a.) makes the vocals at the start crazy-loud, and (b.) detracts from the overall emotional response of the entire song, as studies have shown.

Two songs come to mind, both of which have female singers. I don't think this is a coincidence.

After a torturous search through YouTube, I found the Katy Perry song I was looking for. It's called "Firework," and the pre-chorus (e.g. starting around the 46-second mark) is the part I'm talking about here. I mean, the rest of the song is shit as well -- and, after listening to a half-dozen other song-snippets from her, sounds exactly like every other fucking song she's ever done -- but this is the part that, if the office-rock station is playing in our school's office, makes me want to run out of the place screaming.

It's so. god. damn. loud. And it forces you to stop whatever you're doing and listen to her inane musings. (Actually, it took five fucking people to write that song.)

The second -- oh, you're gonna hate me for this -- is "Rolling In The Deep" by Adele.

Adele's stock-in-trade is her voice. And I'll say this, it's actually a pretty good one, as far as voices go; somewhat soulful, pretty clear, all that jazz. (Hard to say how much of that is studio wizardry; if I cared more I could look up a live performance, but I don't.) But at the very start, that voice just pierces through the fog like a laser beam, the bass drum comes in and starts mashing-away, and since everything's loud in the chorus, the thing that should stand out -- namely, the crack of a snare drum -- is just entirely lost in the mix. The whole thing's a mess.

But hey, she sold a ton of records, so apparently I'm the one who's messed-up.

Just so you don't get the impression I hate everything about chick singers...

...yes Yes YES. This is how it should be done. I mean... wow. Just wow.

I think in pictures, so I went and made some. Here's how Adele's song is put together, sonically:

The so-called quiet parts (i.e. during the verses) are already really loud. When you get to the parts that are supposed to be loud (e.g. the chorus), where can you go? Nowhere, I say. So the dynamics -- the loud-soft interplay that bands like Nirvana had down to a science -- get entirely washed-out, and the whole thing sounds like bleh.

In contrast, here's how Aretha's song is mixed:

When it's supposed to be loud, it definitely is. But when it's not, it's not; there's room to breathe. And because that part is quiet, you know there's a loud part coming up, and that builds tension... What's the loud part going to sound like? How's it going to be different? Lyrically, how's she going to sum it all up in a chorus which is clearly the most important part of the song? It's this back-and-forth, this dynamism, that makes the song sound interesting, even if you don't pay attention to the lyrics at all (which, as has been mentioned before, I usually don't).

Also, "I Never Loved A Man" was written by one person; a guy, oddly enough.

In conclusion, the baseball game's starting, time to go watch the Tigers meekly bow-out of the playoffs.

Rolling Stone's top ten albums of 2013.

First off, I have a pretty cruddy cold. Just puttin' that out there.

When I read Rolling Stone, I often get a little discouraged. All those words spilled about the likes of Miley Cyrus, Drake and Eminem? Who the hell cares! Nobody's going to care about them in 20 years, which is why I usually listen to old stuff: has it stood the test of time, or is it disposable and ridiculous? (I'll do you a favour and tell you to stay the hell away from the Billboard charts. They're depressing.)

But, alas, their editorial staff have given me hope. They've rated the top 50 albums of 2013, and while the three artists I've mentioned above do indeed appear in the list, they're not in the top ten. So that's something, at least.

Without further ado, here are RS's top ten albums of 2013.

1. Vampire Weekend -- Modern Vampires of the City
I admit I don't know a whole lot about this band, but what I've heard sounds interesting and quirky. (I have a KEXP compilation album on which they appear, live in the studio, and it's a good cut of a good song they did a few years ago.) Definitely worth checking out.

2. Kanye West -- Yeezus
Haven't knowingly heard a single note from this album. Don't feel the compulsion to check it out. Didn't he just name his kid North? Moving on.

3. Daft Punk -- Random Access Memories
I'm not much of a fan of electronic music, but what I've heard of this album is interesting and weird and kinda funky. I'm not going to run out and get this album, but I can appreciate its place.

4. Paul McCartney -- New
I was driving somewhere a couple of weeks ago and heard the title cut from this album on the radio. My first thought was, "Hey, whoever this is, they sure as hell like the Beatles." Then the voice kicked in, and I thought, "Hold on a minute, is that Paul McCartney?!" And then, without a word of a lie, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. For someone who idolizes the Beatles, to hear what could easily be a cut from that band in 2013 if they still existed... wow. Amazing.

5. Arcade Fire -- Reflektor
There are a few reasons why I'm not much of an Arcade Fire fan, which I've outlined before. But, y'know what? The title cut of this album ain't bad at all. I can deal with this.

6. Queens of the Stone Age -- ...Like Clockwork
Josh Homme can be a prickly SOB, but I'll be damned if he doesn't write some interesting music; Songs for the Deaf has aged quite well. I know people who hate this band, but frankly I can't figure out why -- they do know he has a sense of humour, right? There aren't that many bands that are both heavy and melodic at the same time, and this is one of them.

7. Lorde -- Pure Heroine
Look, I get it -- she's precocious. So were Tracy Chapman, Fiona Apple, Adele and Amy Winehouse. What I've heard from her has been... well... alright, I suppose. Not terribly compelling. But then again, I don't listen to lyrics, and the electronic-y instrumentation of "Royals" doesn't really thrill me.

8. The National -- Trouble Will Find Me
I'm a little torn on this band, frankly. They sound kinda moody and gloomy, which doesn't usually sit well with me, and their singer sounds like Morrissey after a couple of roofies. But I went to a show they put on at Yonge Dundas Square in the summertime, and it was actually really, really solid. The true test of a band is their live show, which is why it's baffling to me why anyone would ever want to see an electro-whatever band (or a rapper, for that matter) in person. What's there to watch? Someone at a laptop, hitting F3 over and over? I guess if you're tripping on MDMA, I guess it doesn't really matter.

9. Arctic Monkeys -- AM
Full disclosure: I hated this band when they were 19 and telling women how good they'd look on a dance floor; they were loud, fast, and not particularly good. But have you heard anything from this album? They've grown up, they really have. And it's much, much better.

10. John Fogerty -- Wrote a Song for Everyone
Well, he re-recorded a lot of CCR stuff with a bunch of guest artists. I suppose that's alright, but I've always thought it was weird when bands re-did songs they already laid down, years later. I'd hope that the original remains the definitive version, but... ah well. I guess he took decades away from his CCR stuff during all those legal battles and really wanted to play those songs again. Can't fault the guy for that; they're great songs. Still seems weird, though.

There's good music out there, folks. You just won't find it on too many pop radio stations, is all.

An admission.

WARNING / ATTENTION / ACHTUNG

The following post may be too much for some musically-sensitive people to handle.
If your record collection contains several albums' worth of prog-rock,
cool jazz from the '50s or anything by the Pixies,
reader discretion is strongly advised.

So there's this song, you see.

This song is called "Call Me Maybe," and it's done by a singer named Carly Rae Jepsen. Surprisingly for a pop song these days, she co-wrote it; now, whether she just came up with a couple of lines in the middle of the thing or she wrote the bulk of the music and lyrics, I'm not sure, but her name's on the credits, and that's more than I've ever been able to do.

By all accounts, I should hate it.

But I don't. And here's why.

It's catchy.

I think a main source of this catchiness is the lyrical flow in the chorus -- some words linger, but other ones are chopped-up and spat out staccato-style, and if you can hang on to all of 'em, it can be very satisfying for the listener.

Words in songs give the listener something to hang their hat on; if you have a guitar you can play along with a song, but most people don't carry one everywhere they go (except that hippie dude in your residence who thought that and a soul patch was all you need to get laid (and he very probably got laid more than I did in uni, but whatever)), so singing is easy and portable. It makes you feel good because connects you with the song very directly in a melodic way; dancing does the same thing, but in a large-motor-skill way.

It's not what I'd normally listen to. And frankly, I don't believe I've ever sat around and thought, "That 'Call Me Maybe' song, that'd really hit the spot right about now." But it's good at what it does, and in the right environment (e.g. in a fire-code-violatingly-jam-packed New Year's Eve house party at five minutes to midnight), it can be a hell of a lot of fun.

So there.

I'm concerned about the kids these days.

No, no... not because they act like horned-up rhesus monkeys after you've injected them with research-grade amphetamines most of the time.

It's the god damn music they listen to, and will be listening to for decades.

Let me explain.

A couple of days ago, I was in the Bulk Barn that opened up close to me. (For years I was concerned that BB was owned by Loblaws, which is owned by the Weston family, who is close with the Fraser Institute, who supports private schools. Apparently not, though.) As I walked into the store, their background music was about a minute and a half into "Stairway To Heaven" which is, of course, one of the most famous and possibly the best rock song ever made.

It was released in late 1971, which is a little more than 41 years ago.

The girl at the cash seemed to me as if she'd grown up here -- if you spent your formative years on a walnut farm in Mongolia, you can be forgiven for not knowing about Stairway -- so I thought I'd give her a little pop quiz (and no, there is no "off" position on the teacher-switch). She looked to be about maybe 16 or so.

Me: "The song that's just finishing up now on the speakers. Do you know what that is?"
Her: "Uh... not really, no."
Me: "Yeah, I sorta thought that would be the case. It's called 'Stairway To Heaven,' and it's by a band called Led Zeppelin."
Her: "Oh yeah, that sounds sorta familiar. I remember my dad talking about them once."

Listen... I know we're in good hands with the generations that follow us. There are a hell of a lot of fantastic kids who will accomplish things we never even dreamt possible. They will invent, innovate, think, create and explore, and they'll build upon and eventually surpass our accomplishments. But, for fuck's sakes, they should know god damn Stairway.

This got me thinking about music being released today. I realize that there's a reason "classic rock" radio stations exist, and that's because baby boomers want to hear the same songs they've heard ever since they were 18, so they can relive the parts of their lives that didn't suck, and for a few minutes they can think about that chick Lisa they boned in the back of their parents' Datsun up on Lovers Hill after the Under The Sea dance and it was totally awesome, and oh yeah I saw Lisa at the church pot-luck last month, damn she's put on a bit of weight but she looks good after having the four kids and the spleen-replacement surgery, and I wonder if she still puts out like she did back then, damn that was groovy.

(Not to say all boomers' lives suck. I'm caricaturizing, because that's what an older kid told me writers do.)

But honestly, what are the kids today going to reminisce about when they get older?

• "Wow, 'My Humps' is on the space-radio! That song really had a lot of merit."
• "I think I'll buy and cranially-download the entire My Chemical Romance discography. *blinkblink* Ooooh, now that's a generalized malaise and feeling of ennui I haven't felt in decades."
• "Hey, Ke$ha joined the 27 Club, right? Yeah, I thought so."

Yes, I'm being a music-snob here. And no, I don't think that all music released these days is bad. Just most of it that makes it to mainstream radio. But honestly... listen to top-40 radio, and for god's sakes, think of the children.

Could this BE any more '90s?

(And yes, that's a Friends reference. You'll see why that's appropriate.)

(Oh, Matthew Perry, where have you gone?)

I have an iPod, which means I can store a hell of a lot of music on a little box smaller than my wallet. However, this morning, I got a little more nostalgic for honest-to-goodness music-on-a-medium, so I rooted through my CD collection and found a compilation CD from 1998 which was, oddly enough, given away as part of a Clearnet PCS promotion back in university. (Clearnet was eventually bought by Telus.)

And, holy hell, this thing screams 1990s. Check out the track listing.

1. Tonic -- Open Up Your Eyes
2. Pulp -- Common People
3. James -- Destiny Calling
4. The Mighty Mighty Bosstones -- The Rascal King
5. Rusty -- Soul For Sale
6. Zuckerbaby -- Andromeda
7. Matthew Good Band -- Everything Is Automatic
8. Big Sugar -- If I Had My Way
9. Ashley MacIsaac -- Brenda Stubbert

Seriously... when was the last time you thought about Zuckerbaby? Or Ashley MacIsaac? Or, frankly, any sort of '90s ska-pop like the Bosstones?

Damn. I miss the '90s.