The original idea of perfect songs and sharing them with others was inspired by a Twitter post I saw a few years ago from internet master Spencer Hall, better known on Twitter as @EDSBS. I can’t find the first post or remember what song it was, but he posted a link to a song on YouTube and simply said it was a perfect song. This caused my mind to wander into songs that I consider to be “perfect.”
To me, a perfect song is not necessarily a great song or one of the best songs, though they often are. A perfect song is one that is the best version of what it could be, where no change could be made to it to make it better. It also applies to songs where I feel the artist accomplished exactly what they set out to do, which, as anyone who has ever created anything knows, is more difficult than it might seem. I think I should also share that I am not a musician and the entirety of my music training consists of music class in kindergarten through sixth grade and choir my sophomore year in high school.
I came up with a list that I shared over a few days on my Twitter account and I’ve added to that list over time and will be posting them here in sets of five, in no particular order. I’ll talk about why these songs are perfect; it may include discussions of lyrics, the sound, the making of the song, etc. I’ll also try to give a variety of genres or feels with each post. There’s a running playlist on Spotify you can find here if the widget at the bottom of the page isn’t working.
“When My Time Comes” - Dawes, North Hills
The first three Dawes albums are a masterclass in sincere, if melancholic, Americana, from the janglish rock and roll bluesy folks sound to the Jackson Browne-esque lyrics questioning cultural truths and delivering authentic platitudes in a way that gives them new life. (I like the more recent Dawes albums as well, but not in the same way.) This song from their debut album is probably my favorite by the band, if I had to choose just one. I can’t completely blame the emotional journey of young adulthood, as I came to this album several years after its release, but I will admit maybe a bit of nostalgia for those quarter-life feelings of frustration regarding the meaning of everything or anything at all.
This verse hits me especially hard, given the privilege and religious experiences I’ve had in my life and my constant reflection on those experiences:
“So I took what I wanted
And put it out of my reach
I wanted to pay for my successes
With all my defeats
And if Heaven was all
That was promised to me
Why don't I pray for death?”
But “when my time comes, oh.” The hope present in this simple line is frequently enough to pull me out of any frustration associated with the vagaries of life, whether in the micro or macro. The way it’s delivered (especially a capella at 4:10) only underscores the positivity that is in stark contrast to the rest of the song. In this way, the sound of the song perfectly accentuates its lyrical message.
Live version - performed with Mumford and Sons at the 20th anniversary show of World Cafe in Philly:
“Hey Ya! - Radio Mix” - Outkast, Speakerboxx/The Love Below
When you know, you know. I was 13 when this song was released. I was in 8th grade and had mostly weird taste in music, owing somewhat to a childhood of listening mostly to contemporary Christian music (CCM), and trying to rebel against that while also actually liking a lot of it.
I heard this on the radio, on whatever top 40 station I could find that the kids in my school talked about. I heard it and I knew. I couldn’t even describe it to my friends the next day, partially because it was in the middle of a block of songs on the radio in 2003 (which means the DJ didn’t say the artist or song title and the radio station didn’t even have a website) and partially because the "chorus" is the words “hey” and “ya,” which, you know, are barely words. Once I figured out what it was, I was hooked.
This is the perfect 21st song. It’s a hip-hop song that feels like a pop song or maybe vice-versa. The second it starts, Andre 3000 counts you in and then you’re part of what’s happening. Some songs are so good the lyrics don’t matter; this is one of those songs, but those are great too!
A quick aside: when my wife and I were dating in 2013, she once turned to me and said “You know what song you forgot? Hey Ya.” I said, “You mean one of the best songs ever that I listen to all the time?” She loves the song, but apparently thought it was a forgotten radio hit of the decade prior, when in actuality it had just been announced as Grantland’s Best Song of the Millennium. (That top four holds up SHOCKINGLY well.) She wants you to know that she knows every word.
Live version:
“A Change is Gonna Come” - Sam Cooke, Ain’t That Good News
This is a hymn. Each stanza is a lament of the racial injustice in America, followed by a refrain of hope for a better future, sung by Sam Cooke in a way that both underscores its importance and makes it accessible to just about any audience. The message is delivered with an incredible simplicity of lyric and music but its impact lingers with the listener long after hearing, forcing anyone who truly considers its words to recognize the role they play in the song. This is still the case in 2022, where some forms of injustice may be more streamlined and hidden, while others are screaming in our faces like they never have before. Whether you know it or not, you are and have been a part of Sam Cooke’s lament, his hope or both.
I don’t know that I have the words to go any deeper on this song, so I’ll share this thought: On Independence Day a couple of years ago, several people in my social media feeds suggested this as a new national anthem, one that would move us away from images of war, conquest and military might into an admission of who we are and have been and the hope we retain for the future and the progress we will make. You would hear no argument from me. Much of the story of America is present in “A Change is Gonna Come.” Plus, you know, it’s actually a good song.
I can't find a live version of this song. It was released in only a few months before Cooke was murdered. He performed it on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson right before the release of the album, but I can't find video of it anywhere.
“Johnny B. Goode” - Chuck Berry, Chuck Berry Is on Top
This is the pinnacle of rock and roll. Some rock and roll songs are very good, and some are as good, but none are better. Chuck Berry grabs your attention from the very first note, singing through so many lyrical concepts key to rock and roll: the story of an underdog who just wanted to play his guitar, worked hard and ended up with his name in lights. It’s also packed tightly into less than three minutes, efficiently delivering its message and blowing the listener away.
I highly recommend this article (https://www.boweryboogie.com/2017/03/time-chuck-berry-reviewed-ramones-clash-sex-pistols/), which highlights some of Chuck Berry’s thoughts on punk rock through a 1980 interview with Jet Lag magazine. (He was not impressed, but not for the reasons you might expect.)
It’s a shame that to so many this is known as “that song from Back to the Future that Marty McFly plays at the dance,” because it’s stature is much more than that of a plot device in a nostalgia-driven 80s movie, no matter the quality of the movie. I’ll carry the banner for this song as long as needed.
Live version (I am astonished at the people seated behind him who somehow DID NOT MOVE while hearing and seeing this performance. I cannot fathom):
“You Never Even Called Me by My Name” - David Allan Coe, Once Upon a Rhyme
Of course, Mr. Coe even told you it was the perfect country and western song. The song, of course, is meant as a jab at the Nashville country music machine, something that is still bad in so many ways, even 45 years later. (I would describe myself as a country music fan, though I despise most music on country radio and that which wins the ‘country music’ awards.) Beyond its lyrical motives, the infectious melodies offer a sing-along-ability that is undeniable.
It’s also just one of many great works by Steve Goodman and John Prine. The Steve Goodman version (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QUSQJQml40) literally makes me laugh out loud as a sort of precursor to Bo Burnham’s “Panderin',” a send-up of hyper-modern commercial country music. But the David Allan Coe recording has just enough serious emotion to come across as more of an honest experiential song that has a hidden meaning. If you aren’t familiar with Coe’s experiences with the country music machine or Goodman and Prine’s joke, the Wikipedia entry for the song has some brief background.
As a total country music elitist, it’s also a decent litmus test for your friends: if you put it on and they sing along, they know what good country music is; if they don’t sing along, they will be better off hearing it. (Related: my wife HATES this song.) This is solely my opinion, and it is probably a bad one.
Live version - From Farm Aid 1994:
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