There are a lot of places that it is cool for a band or an artist to be named after: Beirut, for instance, or Calexico, or even Cypress Hill. “Europe,” however, does not quite manage the trick. Europe, the place, is such a broad, familiar, and long-standing concept that the name manages to evoke almost nothing at all. It is as bland as milk (which would have been a much better band name, when it comes down to it). But it’s at least fitting, since Europe, the band, is ostentatiously uncool. “The Final Countdown” was initially conceived as an introductory hype song for use at concerts, but it became a hit in its own right and lives on as the anthem for a number of professional sports teams and as GOB’s signature song when performing acts of illusion (on Arrested Development). But no matter how ridiculous it may be (and for proof of its ridiculousness, just try and imagine a righteous army marching to the beat), it’s hard to resist those epic blasts from the synth-trumpet section.
Girl Talk is Gregg Gillis, a former biomedical engineer who also has a special knack for converting the best, the worst, and the most interesting samples from pop music into something breathlessly energetic, hyper-entertaining, and entirely new. Feed the Animals was his fourth album, and although it contains bits and pieces from over 300 different songs, the result is less a collection of different tracks than it is one enormous, complex, but totally self-contained and coherent song. If you’re sitting down, it will get you up; if you’re walking, it will make you run; if you’re working, it will make you want to party; and if you’re partying, it will make you want to party forever and sweat out all the sweat that your body can possibly sweat. It is the answer to apathy.
Punk rock is a genre that’s naturally conducive to self-motivation. It’s got a ton of energy, a lot of emotion, and a general willingness to just keep on going. But even though Iggy Pop is frequently mentioned as one of the founding figures of punk rock, and although “Lust for Life” is certainly a great early punk song, many of his other recordings—“The Passenger,” “Nightclubbing,” and “Gimme Danger,” for instance—bear little resemblance to punk rock as we know it today. Iggy’s songs tend to be slow, long, ambient, and dark. They’re not here to party; they’re here to say something and get under your skin. “Search and Destroy” is one of the rare occasions when Iggy Pop and punk make sense. It’s the perfect blend of energy, anger, and the kind of background melody that seems all the more incredible because it’s really not the point. The point is the middle finger. The point is up yours. The point is a swift kick in the pants. “Search and Destroy” isn’t always the right song to play (it’s not the best first dance song, for instance), but when you need that kind of medicine it really does the trick.
There are a lot of great breakup songs. A lot. Some are best suited for dwelling on the good times (“Romeo and Juliet”); others are made for getting the anger out (“We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”); others are designed to get the tears out (“Don’t Think Twice,” “Landslide”); and still others are intended to empower you and get you dating again (“I Will Survive”). But if you’re actually going through a breakup, there’s only one kind of song that is always right—and that’s the kind of song that is so good it will make you forget about everything else. It will make you forget that you’re even going through a breakup. And that’s what Kelly Clarkson achieves with this break-up anthem. It’s the kind of song that almost makes you want to breakup with someone, just so that you can put it on without having to come up with an excuse.
Obviously.
Whether you want to get a party started, keep a party going, or need to find a way to keep your good friends Tommy (Tommy from the docks, I mean) and Gina (diner Gina, not zookeeper Gina) from breaking up, “Livin’ on a Prayer” is the correct answer. It’s got lyrical screaming (which makes it a great karaoke song as well), wailing guitars, a thumping beat, dramatic key changes, and, in the video, flying humans to go along with all the naturally flying hair. This is all as it should be—this is the essence of the man, the miracle: Jon, and his merry band of Jovi’s. The ’80s are dead; long live the ’80s.
Speaking of music videos, this music video. The outfit, the hair, the lighting, the setting, the earnest expression, and oh my awkward Gumby, those dance moves. It is a pop culture gift that could not be more enjoyable despite the fact that none of its individual ingredients makes much sense at all. Why is Robyn dancing alone in a warehouse? Isn’t it hard to move in those shoes? Why did you write such an inspiring song about such a sad subject? Why are you humping the floor like that, and why does that seem so cool all of a sudden? Can I do that? Why not?
There is no doubt that the song is inspiring, but due to its overwhelming strangeness, it’s hard to know what to do with the energy it gives you. Unless, of course, you need to be inspired to put on platform shoes and paint-splattered pants and dance alone inside a giant gym to Robyn’s “Call Your Girlfriend.”
On the one hand this is an obvious choice—a choice hallowed by Wayne’s World and by the entire music-listening world, circa 1975; but on the other hand “Bohemian Rhapsody” occupies a space so far removed from what we normally think of as pop music that it’s worth taking a moment to appreciate just how unlikely this song’s impact really is. None of these points are new, but again, they’re worth repeating: The song is called “Bohemian Rhapsody,” when by all rights that should be the name of a failed operetta from nineteenth-century France; it was written and performed by an all-male band called Queen at a time when gayness was hardly sanctioned or supported by the culture at large; and it clocks in at nearly six minutes, despite the fact that it has no chorus. It is not what we expect to hear on the radio, and yet now it is a classic radio staple. Not only does it reinvigorate whoever listens to it, it also really serves as an inspiration for anyone who wants to try something really different or who wants to get a little weird.
Rick Ross is the boss. On that point he is adamant. As a matter of fact, he is adamant about pretty much everything. When he rhymes “hard” with “hard,” it sounds like the most unexpected and innovative line in the world; and when he rhymes boss with Ross—as he does, often—he pronounces those words like they were handed down from heaven, like they were fated. Sometimes his lyrics are smart, funny, and full of meaning; other times it sounds like he knows four words that rhyme and just wants to stick with those. But either way his songs always sound right. And his confidence is infectious. After all, it’s hard not to believe in a man who has succeeded in turning his last name into a synonym for “the leader.” And luckily, when we hear Rick Ross, it’s hard not to feel a little bosser ourselves. The Boss rubs off.
Do you remember Big Mouth Billy? The animatronic fish that would sing to you if you disrupted its motion sensors at a Walgreens store, circa 1998? Well, the director of the “We Found Love” video certainly does, and he put him in the video—and if that’s not inspirational then I don’t know what it is. Billy’s been stapled to a board for almost fifteen years now, but that doesn’t stop him from singing, oh no. That scaly old grump just refuses to die.
Like Big Mouth Billy, Rihanna isn’t especially happy or hopeful in “We Found Love,” but man if she won’t get in your head and refuse to leave and make you want to make some really bad life decisions. Drinking, smoking, fighting, donutting, skateboarding, running with fireworks, heroin-y eyeballs, and abusive relationships all get a real PR boost in the video. But you don’t have to be on board with the self-destructive element to just get really pumped.
Inspiration is cheap if it doesn’t account for the possibility of failure; then it’s just a lot of happy noise. “Born in the U.S.A.” is not happy, and it is not noise. It’s simple, hopeful, fervent, and built on the idea that you can be proud of yourself even when life has beaten you down to nothing. If you need a reason to pump your fist, this song is here to help. And if you’re not quite sure when to pump your fist, please consult the video. And then get to pumpin’.