Music Blogs

40 "McFearless"--Kings Of Leon, from Because Of The Times (Columbia, 2007): The Followills may be shamelessly revamping themselves as a stadium monster to out-U2 the Killers, but as long as they can unleash torrents of guitar frenzy like "McFearless" we'll allow them a little latitude.

39 "Crest"--Stereolab, from Transient Random-Noise Bursts With Announcements (Duophonic, 1993): Only seldom do south-east London's favorite cerebral technicians "do" intensity. But on this beautiful, throbbing, ascending/descending white-noize classic they hit a veritable peak of Velvets-meets-Blue Orchids melodic drone-pop.

38 "Ballerina"--Van Morrison, from Astral Weeks (Warner Brothers, 1968): Van the Man gets closer here to the naked cry at the heart of human singing than anyone's ever done, literally wringing the sense out of his own words. Check the gibbering cry of "But something in my heart tells me that I'm right, then I don't think so," or the fevered, whimpering melisma of "the wriiiiiiiiiiiiiiting on the wall."

37 "You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)"--Sylvester, single (Fantasy, 1978): From the church door to the dance floor. Forget the feathers and finery, the vamping camp; Sylvester could get pentecostal on your ass like no other. As the band nail down the four-on-the-floor, our boy tears the roof off the sucker. Mighty Real, indeed.

36 "The Bends"--Radiohead, from The Bends (Parlophone, 1995): Back when they rocked out, Thom Yorke and the lads let rip on this insanely crazed, frenziedly beautiful track, belatedly birthing the hundred copycats that crawled out of the provincial woodwork at the end of the '90s.

35 "The Tracks Of My Tears"--Smokey Robinson And The Miracles, single (Tamla Motown, 1965): Like few of his contemporaries, and none of his Motown colleagues, Smokey Robinson was able to give voice to his, and our, innermost fears and insecurities. Set in relief against the usual immaculate Detroit production, Smokey tears down the wall between performer and audience, his falsetto cracking with sweet desperation.

34 "With A Little Help From My Friends"--Joe Cocker, single (Regal Zonophone, 1968): In which Sheffield's finest takes one of those nasty little Paul McCartney novelty tunes and proves that you can, indeed, polish a turd. Backed by an arrangement from way south of the Mason-Dixon line, Cocker ratchets up the histrionics to awesome effect. My throat hurts just listening to it.

33 "I've Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now)"--Otis Redding, single (Volt, 1965): The Big O's most anguished ballad, an unmatchable zenith of '60s soul. From deep sorrow to shocking grief...and back again.

32 "The Private Psychedelic Reel"--Chemical Brothers, from Dig Your Own Hole (Heavenly, 1997): A collaboration between the pharmaceutical siblings and Mercury Rev mainman Jonathan Donahue, "Reel' is an epic head-trip of an instrumental, setting a trancey sitar-style guitar loop and mind-scraping Eddie Jobsonesque electro-violin to frantic big-beat drums. Far f**king out.

31 "Feel Like Going Home"--Charlie Rich, from Rockabilly Stars Vol 1 (Epic 1981): This demo version from 1969 is the greatest, most gut-wrenching white soul ballad ever recorded.

30 "Let's Get It On"--Marvin Gaye, single (Motown, 1973): Just about the sexiest noise ever committed to tape. Alternately soothing, beseeching and imploring, Marvin manages to loosen up even the chilliest curmudgeon. An invitation to perform the horizontal mambo of the highest order.

29 "All Along the Watchtower"--Bob Dylan & The Band, from Before The Flood (Columbia, 1974): Hendrix's is the more lauded and imaginative reworking, but this surging, explosive live version by its author and his Lear-jet bar-band is unjustly overlooked/forgotten. Robbie Robertson's twisted, searing solo will have the hairs standing on end.

28 "Love Attack"--James Carr, single (Goldwax, 1966): Raw, inflamed southern soul from the man who should have been bigger than Otis. "It's just like holdin' on to a hot wire," Carr screams; "Ah can't turn it loose..." Bit like this record, in fact.

27 "Since I've Been Loving You"--Led Zeppelin, from Led Zeppelin III (Atlantic, 1971): Notwithstanding the claims of "Kashmir" et al, this awesome blues ballad from III is the most emotionally wracked, agonizing track Zeppelin ever cut. Page cuts deep with a vicious solo, the beat seems almost dragged out of Bonham, and Percy shrieks his torment like a man possessed.

26 "Lost Someone"--James Brown, from Live At The Apollo, Vol. 1 (King, 1962): The buildup alone is intense enough, but when James suddenly drops into this bereft ballad you feel your heart fall through the floor. He never sang (or screamed) better than he does here, and the Apollo responds in kind. Secularized Baptist frenzy at its most eye-popping.

25 "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'"--The Righteous Brothers, single (Philles, 1964): The pop symphony that broke the three-minute radio barrier, "Lovin' Feelin'' is a colossus of modern music, played like a stampede, sung by two men pleading for a stay of execution.

24 "Angel"--Massive Attack, from Mezzanine (Virgin, 1998): The first track from Mezzanine is about as simmeringly intense as trip-hop--make that trip-rock--gets, with the dependably unearthly Horace Andy drifting over swelling guitars that finally detonate in cascades of raw power.

23 "Ball and Chain"--Big Brother & The Holding Company, from Cheap Thrills (Columbia, 1968): Ok, so Big Bro were probably the clunkiest collection of guitar-totin' dropouts the Haight spewed up, but what Janis did to Big Mama Thornton's classic of undiluted abjection still freezes the blood. There are whiskey-lubricated rasps and there are whiskey-lubricated rasps...and then there's JJ, tearing out her battered little heart for the beads 'n' bangles set.

22 "Sister Ray"--The Velvet Underground, from White Light/White Heat (MGM, 1968): 17 minutes precisely of nihilist-garage protopunk, Reed malevolently bleating over a distorted soup of guitars and mashed Manzarek organ as Mo T bashes away at her drum(s). Millennia ahead of its time.

21 "Strange Man"--Dorothy Love Coates, from The Gospel Sound (Columbia 1972): Modern gospel in the raw. With a voice like a blowtorch and an attitude to match, Dorothy Love Coates tears into the biblical story of the adulterous woman like a combine harvester in heat. As savage an indictment of hypocrisy as you will ever hear. "He without sin, cast the first stone..."

Read over 13,000 interviews and reviews with these and other artists at www.rocksbackpages.com. Over 13,000 articles by the greatest writers from the finest rock publications of the last 40 years.