In return, you’ve been telling us how wrong we are about everything. Hundreds of comments later, what have we learned?
1. The NME office is apparently the only place in the universe where ‘Mr Brightside’ is not venerated as a universal anthem (personally I love it; no-one else voted for it).
2. All things considered, Franz Ferdinand’s debut probably should have made the Top 100. Call me controversial, but it’s better than anything by Botch.
3. According to a bloke called Joe, Wheatus’ ‘Teenage Dirtbag’ and R Kelly’s ‘Ignition Remix’ are the most important songs of the past ten years.
Anyway, we thought it was time to stop arguing about the ‘greatest’ tracks, and instead focus on the lost classics, the overlooked songs that never made it into the indie-rock canon.
Post your own suggestions below, and we’ll build up a playlist of unfairly neglected gems. To make the thread more interesting, try and include a reason for your choice. Here are a few of ours.
Hamish MacBain: Johnny Boy, ‘You Are The Generation That Bought More Shoes And You Get What You Deserve’. One of the best singles by anyone, ever.
Emily Mackay: Of Montreal, ‘Disconnect The Dots’. Taking this song as any kind of representation of the vast vistas of weirdness that makes up the rest of Of Montreal’s psych-pop back catalogue would be very foolish indeed. Taking it as a freaky one-off moment of giddy, saucer-eyed, dangerously high perfection is irresistible.
James McMahon: Alkaline Trio, ‘Crawl’. You know those songs so wonderful/yearning/funny/violent/visceral that you never want them to end? Like, ever? The closing song on the Chicagoans’ third (and best) album ‘From Here To Infirmary’ (from 2001) is one such song. I’d be happy if they were just getting to the 6,000,000th pre-chorus now.
Luke Lewis: The Veils, ‘The Leavers Dance’. The first time I heard this was while driving; it was so arresting, I literally swerved off the road to give it a proper listen. Sadly, they couldn’t actually play it live – which, in hindsight, foreshadowed a slightly disappointing career to come.
Paul Stokes: Interpol, ‘Specialist’, on the ‘Interpol EP’, 2001. Six minutes of heart-beating bass, glacial riffs and Paul Banks at his most voyeuristic. Interpol at the memorising, menacing best.
Alan Woodhouse: Cornershop, ‘Lessons Learned From Rocky I To Rocky III’, 2002. Fantastic first single off the criminally overlooked ‘Handcream For A Generation’ album. Searing nu-metal dissing rocker which was also really, really funny. And that’s the best title of the decade too.
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