Five Perfect Songs

There are five perfect songs. Here they are:

  • Sam Stone (John Prine)
  • All Along the Watchtower (Bob Dylan)
  • Anchorage (Michelle Shocked)
  • I Fought the Law (Bobby Fuller Four)
  • You Don’t Own Me (Leslie Gore)

That’s it.

About Sam Stone:
But life had lost its fun
And there was nothing to be done
But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill
For a flag-draped casket on a local heroe’s hill

“Suspicion” (Elvis Presley) comes close, but no cigar.

Other Honorable Mentions:

“Reelin’ in the Years” (Steely Dan) A truly awesome recording but I can’t overlook the pettiness of “the things that pass for knowledge I can’t understand…”

“Homeward Bound” (Simon and Garfunkel) a fine, fine song, but “all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity” is a little precious.

“Four Strong Winds” (Ian & Sylvia) is a bit slight, so you have to repeat the chorus and that gives it a bit of a sense of aimlessness and repetition and violates the rule of economy.

The Beatles’ best song is “Girl”:

Was she told when she was young that pain would lead to pleasure?
Did she understand it when they said,
That a man must break his back to earn his day of leisure
Will she still believe it when he’s dead?

But “Eleanor Rigby” is also very nearly perfect.

“Go Your Own Way” (Fleetwood Mac) is too slight.

“Sultans of Swing” by Dire Straits is very, very good.

“Echo Beach” (Martha & the Muffins) Actually, this song is darn near perfect as well. Darn near.

“The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” (The Band) Great, great song, but a bit murky, and the Band’s own recording of it is not as perfect as the song. As is “This Wheel’s on Fire” and “Tears of Rage”. I do actually like the cover version of “Dixie” by Joan Baez, featuring crack Nashville session musicians. It’s from an album that appeared to be an effort by Baez to reach out to the alienated silent majority of Americans who seemed to despise her.

Levon Helm (who wrote “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down”) despised her version, but one suspects that that is because Levon Helm despised Joan Baez.

“Satisfaction” (Rolling Stones) Okay. So this one is perfect too. Six perfect songs. But it has to share with “Light My Fire” (Doors).

“Like a Rolling Stone” (Bob Dylan) Violates rule of economy, but also a great, great song. “Tangled up in Blue” might actually be a better song.

“Thunder Road” (Bruce Springsteen) Can’t sustain that great take-off, “you can hide ‘neath your covers and study your pain” though he tries, brilliantly. In the end, it’s just a trifle indulgent, a trifle too self-consciously monumental. A trifle. On some days I prefer “Jungleland”.

“Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” (Bob Dylan) is as good or better than any other song on the list. All right, seven.

“One of These Days” (Emmy Lou Harris) Lovely, enchanting piece, reminds me of “As I Went Out One Morning” (Bob Dylan): both are elegantly economical, tight, balanced.

“Someday Soon” (Judy Collins) Okay– another one. Eight.

All right: 9– “The Hammond Song”, by the Roches. Actually, this song is obviously flawed, but there are moments when it does sound just perfect to me. So 8. Wait — 9. I forgot about one of the most perfect, crystalline, renditions ever: “Wayfarin’ Stranger” by Emmy-Lou Harris with that absolutely wonderful lead by Tony Rice and mandolin by Albert Lee.

The Roches Sing the Hallelujah Chorus

You only get one first kiss in life.

And I’ll bet that for many people, that first kiss sucked. Maybe you missed the lips, or slobbered, or quit too soon or too late, or, more likely, it wasn’t really the person you wanted to kiss so badly, but your second or third choice. Maybe you didn’t even want to be kissed.

But when the first kiss is with someone you really like, and your lips connect, and her lips are incredibly soft and slightly cool, and your arms feel just right around her waist, and she kindly puts her arms around your neck….

And you can’t experience the magical moment of exquisite tickled transcendence of hearing the Roche Sisters perform the Hallelujah Chorus for the first time again and again and again.

Sure, it’s great to see it again. I want to see it again. I enjoy seeing it again. But I remember the moment I saw them, on PBS in 1983, for the first time, and fell in love with what they were doing. They took a famous piece of music– which had been flogged to death already by then– and reinvented it. They turned it inside out and upside down and toyed with it, and that’s what I think really electrifies the listener the first time– the playfulness of the whole idea. The shocking delight of making something look funny and brilliant and powerful and poignant at the same time.


All right– you want to see it, don’t you? This is a pretty coarse, bad copy, but it will have to do for now:

Why I do not stand for the Hallelujah Chorus: You have to stand. You WILL stand. You are hereby ordered to stand because that is what everybody does and they’ve always done it and it shows that we are people of good taste and that we respect good music and do not dare to defy the authorities who have ordained that the Hallelujah Chorus is better than anything by Bach.

Well, tough. I hereby declare that from now on, I only stand in reverence for Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto #5 or Cantata 42, Dylan’s “Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll” and Cat Power’s version of “Satisfaction”.

Another Great Song by The Roches.