People always ask: "When is Pitchfork gonna run a list of the top albums of the 1960s?" The answer today? Probably never. Not that we didn't consider it. It's just that when we sat down to map it all out, we found it would be more rewarding to approach the decade through its songs instead. After all, it was by and large a single-oriented era-- the long-player didn't really take over as a creative medium until the 60s had nearly come to an end. And besides, Revolver's ego is out of hand as it is.

 

So today, we kick off the largest feature in Pitchfork history, a five-day trip through the first full decade of the pop/rock era. From today until Friday, we'll roll out the 200 songs that most resonate with a generation too young to have experienced the decade firsthand, but old enough to know it had more to offer than "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction".

 

Of course, we recognize that even at 200 tracks, our list leaves off hundreds of other fantastic and amazing songs-- not to mention a handful of cuts from the Baby Boomer canon that our staff doesn't much care for (hello, "Light My Fire"!). But if nothing else, we at least limited the maximum number of tracks per artist to five so that, say, the 14th most popular Beach Boys song (probably "Vega-Tables" or some such) wouldn't bump off more deserving tracks from less iconic artists.

 

Throughout the week, the news and tracks sections will be updated daily. This feature, however, will remain the point of entry for Pitchfork until the end of the week. To access the rest of the site, click either the Pitchfork logo in the upper left corner of your screen, or click here. Otherwise, let's waste no time counting off the first 50...

 

200-151 http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/feature/37886/The_200_Greatest_Songs_of_the_1960s

150-101 http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/feature/37887/The_200_Greatest_Songs_of_the_1960s

100-61 http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/feature/37889/The_200_Greatest_Songs_of_the_1960s

60-21 http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/feature/37892/The_200_Greatest_Songs_of_the_1960s

 

20. The Shangri-Las: "Out in the Streets"

19. The Beatles: "Tomorrow Never Knows"

18. The Crystals: "Then He Kissed Me"

17. Creedence Clearwater Revival: "Fortunate Son"

16. The Stooges: "I Wanna Be Your Dog"

15. Aretha Franklin: "Think"

14. The Beach Boys: "Don't Worry Baby"

13. The Band: "The Weight"

12. The Rolling Stones: "Gimme Shelter"

11. Led Zeppelin: "Dazed and Confused"

 

...

 

10. Desmond Dekker & The Aces: "Israelites"

 

 

(Desmond Dekker)

1969

Chart info: U.S. (#9), UK (#1, #10 for 1975 reissue)

Available on Rockin' Steady: The Best of Desmond Dekker

 

The dearly departed Desmond Dacres will have to argue with Toots Hibbert and Lee Perry over who actually invented reggae, but "Israelites" is as good a starting place as any. Dekker's mighty lament for the sufferer's woe of the titular tribe still rides ska's backbeat, but clipped to a stately lilt. The organ and stabbing guitar lock with percolator percussion for a groove that's irresistible, but never bouncy like prime ska.

 

The warm, glowing, muffled quality of Perry's recording-- a ghostly halo of echo and reverb-- was at least partially created by feeding seemingly paltry two-track recordings back into themselves. Dekker's voice produces Perry's nimbus all on its own. The swaying, heat-warped quality of "Israelites" feels like gospel and the blues, and considering the song links Biblical trials with the hustle of modern poverty, the comparison's not as far off as it might seem. "Get up in the morning/ Slaving for bread, sir/ So that every mouth can be fed/ Oh, oh, the Israelites."

 

And it was a huge hit, the first of Jamaica's exports to reach an audience off the island, going Top 10 in both the U.S. and the UK. It earned Dekker a tribute from a (rightfully) awed Beatles and made him Jamaica's first international sensation. Saint Bob would of course eclipse Dekker in popularity, but little in the Marley catalog has this kind of power.

 

9. The Who: "I Can't Explain"

 

 

(Pete Townshend)

1965

Chart info: U.S. (N/A), UK (#8)

Available on My Generation

 

You could stop this song after four seconds and still hear why the Who's first single launched their career back in 1965, why they continued to open shows with it decades later, and why it remains a favorite more than 40 years on. Those syncopated bursts of contained explosion constitute one of the most perfect power-pop riffs ever strummed, and the only way to improve on it is to add Keith Moon's hyperactive drumming to fill in the charged silences between the chords. If that's all there was to "I Can't Explain"... well, it would have probably still made the list, but the snake attached to that head is a great song as well as a persuasive argument against originality in rock.

 

Written by Pete Townsend as a blatant Kinks rip-off, "I Can't Explain" ably replicates the Davies' herky-jerky rock rhythms right down to the handclaps, but the Who supe it up with American pop harmonies and a hooky chorus that hints at their meaty, beaty, big and bouncy singles to follow. Writing in Rolling Stone in the early 1970s, Townsend mused, "It seems to be about the frustrations of a young person who is so incoherent and uneducated that he can't state his case to the bourgeois intellectual blah blah blah. Or, of course, it might be about drugs." Either way it's also about the best song the Who ever recorded.

 

8. Johnny Cash: "Folsom Prison Blues (Live at Folsom Prison)"

 

 

(Johnny Cash)

1968

Chart info: U.S. (#32), UK (N/A)

Available on At Folsom Prison

 

"Hello. I'm Johnny Cash." That opening line, so deadpan and needless-- everybody, especially in Folsom, knows who Johnny Cash is-- may be the genesis of the Man in Black myth, even more so than the song "Man in Black". Making such a humble introduction, Cash sounds larger than life-- definitely larger than prison-- and he delivers an electric, excited performance on his signature Sun hit.

 

Egged on by W. S. Holland's driving snare and Luther Perkins' breakout guitar solos, Cash gives a shout-out to the Razorbacks ("Soo-ey!") and after the second verse laughs a playful heidi-ho. But as the song progresses, his freewheeling energy becomes hurried and dogged, and he sounds like a truly desperate man, as haunted by the idea of confinement as any of the inmates-- a measure of how deep his identification with his audience went. The fear in his voice still resonates decades later, long after the man has died and the Man in Black has become a canonical American figure.

 

7. The Beach Boys: "Wouldn't It Be Nice"

 

 

(Tony Asher/Brian Wilson)

1966

Chart info: U.S. (#8), UK (N/A)

Available on Pet Sounds

 

Love songs in rock and roll can be many things-- lusty, lecherous, pining, resigned, anguished, sweet-- but "Wouldn't It Be Nice" is the rare one that feels genuinely innocent. It kicks in with a music box harp figure that's quickly obliterated by Brian Wilson's Phil Spector-sized drum sound-- it's the sound of reality briefly shattering fantasy. The reality for these lovers is that they're simply too young to be out on their own. But they can imagine, and their fantasy magnifies every child's naïve wish to become an adult-- freedom without the mortgage, cars that need fixing, and lack of adequate health insurance.

 

"Wouldn't It Be Nice" has everything you love about the Beach Boys in spades: the Wall of Sound Jr., the scarcely believable harmonies, the dreamtime prosody, and the imaginative instrumentation. It's the ultimate starry-eyed teenage symphony to God, and it perfectly captures the earnest devotion we only seem capable of in a small window of years.

 

6. The Ronettes: "Be My Baby"

 

 

(Jeff Barry/Ellie Greenwich/Phil Spector)

1969

Chart info: U.S. (#2), UK (#4)

Available on The Best of the Ronettes

 

Phil Spector hasn't descended into self-parody the way some others on this list have, but certainly not for lack of trying. Trigger happy, possibly unhinged, and now sporting a bizarre Hair Bear Bunch afro, if Spector had been a star in his own right, his trials and travails would be all over Court TV. Thankfully, he hid behind the mixing desk and the biggest, blackest shades this side of Jack Nietzsche, thereby preserving some of his legacy. (Like you can listen to "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough" without a reflexive twinge of sadness.)

 

Critic David Toop has talked about the disconnect between hearing "Be My Baby" on record and seeing the Ronettes live on stage, lost in cavernous British theaters in their immaculate print dresses, their live backing bands not even able to approximate the force of Spector's Wrecking Crew. The first time I ever really heard "Be My Baby" was on a PBS special of all things, on a TV with a shitty mono speaker-- and even then it felt Cinemascope wide and THX intense.

 

But if "Be My Baby" birthed modern studio pop-- the point at which records became artifacts that could not be accurately (or at least easily) replicated in the real world-- then it would be merely impressive. What makes it soar, punch holes in hearts as well as walls, is the lead vocal by Ronnie Bennett. Bennett's voice was a little raw, unlike Darlene Love or Diana Ross, and her kittenish performance that strains slightly at the chorus transmutes the slightly sappy lyrics into possibly the best pop song of all time.

 

5. The Beatles: "A Day in the Life"

 

 

(John Lennon/Paul McCartney)

1967

Chart info: U.S. (N/A), UK (N/A)

Available on Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

 

The Beatles had attempted ambitious mosaics before ("She Said She Said", "Tomorrow Never Knows"), but Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band's epic finale catalogues every explosive element of the Fab Four. George Martin's production revolutionized pop music with its avant-garde opulence. Lennon and McCartney's aural bricolage elevates and parodies itself, and their lyrics distance the group from naiveté and Summer-of-Love idealism. Lest we forget, the opening line notes how someone "blew his mind out in a car" and finds Lennon cackling at corpses, media saturation, and humanity's natural disposition toward violence.

 

When paired with hailing folk and piano, Lennon's portion is as wry and poignant as rock is ever likely to get. In fact, "A Day in the Life" is pretty much the archetype for the Lennon/McCartney duality, firmly distinguishing John as a nightmarish narcophilosopher and Paul as a pragmatic businessman with a schedule to keep. But with its startling juxtaposition of pop melodies and flowery experimentalism, "A Day in the Life" consolidates all of the group's audiences. Here is a song for preteens and acidheads, surrealists and Sinatra fans, the Monkees and the Manson family. That final crescendo, with all its disembodied screams and orchestral terrorism, is surely the most famous-- and strident-- ending of any song in the last 50 years: a caterwauling assemblage of Zen humming, instrumental flairs, and three monolithic pianos stacked on top of one another. Somehow the world's greatest musical icons closed their most famous album with a solid 30 seconds of morbid textural sculpture. By the time the dust settled, Paul was dead, atonalism had gone pop, and four Liverpudlian rockers became high-art heroes.

 

4. Bob Dylan: "Like a Rolling Stone"

 

 

(Bob Dylan)

1965

Chart info: U.S. (#2), UK (#4)

Available on Highway 61 Revisited

 

From its first double-drum crack (which Bruce Springsteen later described as the sound of someone "kicking open the door to your mind"), to its mythical opening couplet (a perfectly seething "Once upon a time..."), "Like a Rolling Stone" is one of Dylan's strangest and most enthralling moments, a big, shambling statement that hovers on the verge of total dissolution, threatening to shimmy your record player (and, potentially, your entire life) off the shelf and onto the floor. One minute in, when Dylan finally hits the chorus, glibly hollering "How does it feeeel?" to an unnamed subject (or possibly himself), his sneer is so convincing it's difficult not to feel deeply ashamed of everything you've ever done, but still desperate for five more minutes of lashings.

 

It's hard to overstate the cultural heft of "Like a Rolling Stone", which puttered to #2 on the pop chart (the first song of its length to do so) and hovered there for nearly three months. In 2005's Like a Rolling Stone: Bob Dylan at the Crossroads, Greil Marcus exhausts 200 pages dissecting the socio-political context and lyrical nuances of "Like a Rolling Stone", ultimately christening the track "a triumph of craft, inspiration, will, and intent," and, more importantly, "a rewrite of the world itself." Certainly, the song transforms every time it's played, expertly adapting to new generations and new vices, just wobbly and amorphous and dangerous enough to knock us over again and again.

 

3. Sam Cooke: "A Change Is Gonna Come"

 

 

(Sam Cooke)

1964

Chart info: U.S. (#31), UK (N/A)

Available on The Man and His Music

 

Filtered through a vessel of honest hurt, message and moment meet modern gospel. Suffering from the recent death of his 18-month old son Vincent and troubled by the omnipotent specter of racism, Cooke caught the unsteady temperament of a nation. Struck by Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind", the Mississippi native detected the folk movement's crucial sense of understanding; they "may not sound as good but they people believe them more," he once said. Sam Cooke sounds pretty great on "A Change Is Gonna Come".

 

After Martin Luther King was assassinated, Rosa Parks listened to "A Change Is Gonna Come" for comfort. The spiritual synergy between King's preaching and the song's painful vignettes is powerful. Both are battered, bruised but vigorous. Rene Hall's classic arrangement, bolstered by French horns, timpani, and a flowering orchestra is pure Hollywood magic but Cooke subverts the Disneyland pomp with anguished realism: "It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die/ 'Cause I don't know what's up there beyond the sky." "A Change Is Gonna Come" was released as part of a single only after Cooke's murky murder. He never felt its rapturous reception. Yet, as long as change aches for resolution, the song will stand.

 

2. The Jackson 5: "I Want You Back"

 

 

(Berry Gordy, Jr./Alphonso Mizell/Freddie Perren/Deke Richards)

1969

Chart info: U.S. (#1), UK (#2)

Available on Diana Ross Presents the Jackson 5

 

Writers and producers Freddie Perren, Fonce Mizell, and Deke Richards originally envisioned this as the backing track for a Gladys Knight and the Pips song, but Berry Gordy had other ideas. With a little rewriting he heard it as the perfect vehicle to introduce five kids he'd just signed from Gary, Indiana. And as was so often the case throughout the 1960s, Gordy was right.

 

What is it about this song that cuts through generations and trends and cynicism and makes everyone within its range prick up ears and loosen hips? I once thought my age had something to do with my deep love of this song (it hit the Hot 100 two months and a day after my birth) but here Pitchfork writers up to 15 years my junior heard something special just as clearly. Some of it is Michael Jackson's voice reaching beyond its years, some of it is the Five's supportive backing. But really I think it's the song's most basic structure, possibly the best chord progression in pop music history. The descending bit on the chorus is joy reduced to its molecular level: G / C / G / Em / Am / C / G.

 

1. The Beach Boys: "God Only Knows"

 

 

(Tony Asher/Brian Wilson)

1966

Chart info: U.S. (#39), UK (#2)

Available on Pet Sounds

 

I'm sure you've read these: "the world's greatest song," "Brian Wilson's masterpiece," "the most beautiful piece of music ever recorded." Yes, the initiation into the Museum of Western Popular Music is always rough, as credible historians rush to summarize our collective experiences in short phrases. But for better or worse, "God Only Knows" is the kind of song that's almost impossible for me to talk about divorced from the way it makes me feel: sad, in love, honestly grateful, but also a little hopeless. Even in mono, it's like being swept up by a wave of compassion but still getting bruised.

 

The first words Wilson sings, "I may not always love you," are already uncertain, so if you need a tie into the legacy of 1960s youth culture, glance no further than the naïve but strained optimism locked inside this song. Yet, Wilson made this uncertainty sound gorgeous. The voices that sail behind his might just as well be a quartet of violas and cellos playing counterpoint that'd already been obsessed over a few times before they got it. "God Only Knows" is so ideally conceptualized and realized, critics can't help but support it. Somehow, even that can't turn it into an art exhibit; its humanity resists the attempt. To me, this song is a goodbye to being a kid, and hoping that love actually is the answer. And almost nobody knows if it is.

Not another "best of" chart.

 

*Insert Yawn here*

Not another "best of" chart.

 

*Insert Yawn here*

 

if it comes to Pitchfork, you can expect a "good best of" so it was worth to post it here i think ;)

 

100-61 http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/feature/37889/The_200_Greatest_Songs_of_the_1960s

i'm wondering, what happened to the music forum, seems to be dead

 

60-21 http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/feature/37892/The_200_Greatest_Songs_of_the_1960s

 

30-21

 

30. The Shangri-Las: "Leader of the Pack"

29. The Kinks: "Waterloo Sunset"

28. Otis Redding: "(Sittin' on) The Dock of the Bay"

27. The Velvet Underground: "I'm Waiting for the Man"

26. The Beatles: "I Am the Walrus"

25. The Rolling Stones: "Paint It Black"

24. The Supremes: "You Can't Hurry Love"

23. Etta James: "At Last"

22. Marvin Gaye: "I Heard It Through the Grapevine"

21. The Beach Boys: "Good Vibrations"

fuck you all, here's the top 20!!!

 

20. The Shangri-Las: "Out in the Streets"

19. The Beatles: "Tomorrow Never Knows"

18. The Crystals: "Then He Kissed Me"

17. Creedence Clearwater Revival: "Fortunate Son"

16. The Stooges: "I Wanna Be Your Dog"

15. Aretha Franklin: "Think"

14. The Beach Boys: "Don't Worry Baby"

13. The Band: "The Weight"

12. The Rolling Stones: "Gimme Shelter"

11. Led Zeppelin: "Dazed and Confused"

 

...

 

10. Desmond Dekker & The Aces: "Israelites"

 

 

(Desmond Dekker)

1969

Chart info: U.S. (#9), UK (#1, #10 for 1975 reissue)

Available on Rockin' Steady: The Best of Desmond Dekker

 

The dearly departed Desmond Dacres will have to argue with Toots Hibbert and Lee Perry over who actually invented reggae, but "Israelites" is as good a starting place as any. Dekker's mighty lament for the sufferer's woe of the titular tribe still rides ska's backbeat, but clipped to a stately lilt. The organ and stabbing guitar lock with percolator percussion for a groove that's irresistible, but never bouncy like prime ska.

 

The warm, glowing, muffled quality of Perry's recording-- a ghostly halo of echo and reverb-- was at least partially created by feeding seemingly paltry two-track recordings back into themselves. Dekker's voice produces Perry's nimbus all on its own. The swaying, heat-warped quality of "Israelites" feels like gospel and the blues, and considering the song links Biblical trials with the hustle of modern poverty, the comparison's not as far off as it might seem. "Get up in the morning/ Slaving for bread, sir/ So that every mouth can be fed/ Oh, oh, the Israelites."

 

And it was a huge hit, the first of Jamaica's exports to reach an audience off the island, going Top 10 in both the U.S. and the UK. It earned Dekker a tribute from a (rightfully) awed Beatles and made him Jamaica's first international sensation. Saint Bob would of course eclipse Dekker in popularity, but little in the Marley catalog has this kind of power.

 

9. The Who: "I Can't Explain"

 

 

(Pete Townshend)

1965

Chart info: U.S. (N/A), UK (#8)

Available on My Generation

 

You could stop this song after four seconds and still hear why the Who's first single launched their career back in 1965, why they continued to open shows with it decades later, and why it remains a favorite more than 40 years on. Those syncopated bursts of contained explosion constitute one of the most perfect power-pop riffs ever strummed, and the only way to improve on it is to add Keith Moon's hyperactive drumming to fill in the charged silences between the chords. If that's all there was to "I Can't Explain"... well, it would have probably still made the list, but the snake attached to that head is a great song as well as a persuasive argument against originality in rock.

 

Written by Pete Townsend as a blatant Kinks rip-off, "I Can't Explain" ably replicates the Davies' herky-jerky rock rhythms right down to the handclaps, but the Who supe it up with American pop harmonies and a hooky chorus that hints at their meaty, beaty, big and bouncy singles to follow. Writing in Rolling Stone in the early 1970s, Townsend mused, "It seems to be about the frustrations of a young person who is so incoherent and uneducated that he can't state his case to the bourgeois intellectual blah blah blah. Or, of course, it might be about drugs." Either way it's also about the best song the Who ever recorded.

 

8. Johnny Cash: "Folsom Prison Blues (Live at Folsom Prison)"

 

 

(Johnny Cash)

1968

Chart info: U.S. (#32), UK (N/A)

Available on At Folsom Prison

 

"Hello. I'm Johnny Cash." That opening line, so deadpan and needless-- everybody, especially in Folsom, knows who Johnny Cash is-- may be the genesis of the Man in Black myth, even more so than the song "Man in Black". Making such a humble introduction, Cash sounds larger than life-- definitely larger than prison-- and he delivers an electric, excited performance on his signature Sun hit.

 

Egged on by W. S. Holland's driving snare and Luther Perkins' breakout guitar solos, Cash gives a shout-out to the Razorbacks ("Soo-ey!") and after the second verse laughs a playful heidi-ho. But as the song progresses, his freewheeling energy becomes hurried and dogged, and he sounds like a truly desperate man, as haunted by the idea of confinement as any of the inmates-- a measure of how deep his identification with his audience went. The fear in his voice still resonates decades later, long after the man has died and the Man in Black has become a canonical American figure.

 

7. The Beach Boys: "Wouldn't It Be Nice"

 

 

(Tony Asher/Brian Wilson)

1966

Chart info: U.S. (#8), UK (N/A)

Available on Pet Sounds

 

Love songs in rock and roll can be many things-- lusty, lecherous, pining, resigned, anguished, sweet-- but "Wouldn't It Be Nice" is the rare one that feels genuinely innocent. It kicks in with a music box harp figure that's quickly obliterated by Brian Wilson's Phil Spector-sized drum sound-- it's the sound of reality briefly shattering fantasy. The reality for these lovers is that they're simply too young to be out on their own. But they can imagine, and their fantasy magnifies every child's naïve wish to become an adult-- freedom without the mortgage, cars that need fixing, and lack of adequate health insurance.

 

"Wouldn't It Be Nice" has everything you love about the Beach Boys in spades: the Wall of Sound Jr., the scarcely believable harmonies, the dreamtime prosody, and the imaginative instrumentation. It's the ultimate starry-eyed teenage symphony to God, and it perfectly captures the earnest devotion we only seem capable of in a small window of years.

 

6. The Ronettes: "Be My Baby"

 

 

(Jeff Barry/Ellie Greenwich/Phil Spector)

1969

Chart info: U.S. (#2), UK (#4)

Available on The Best of the Ronettes

 

Phil Spector hasn't descended into self-parody the way some others on this list have, but certainly not for lack of trying. Trigger happy, possibly unhinged, and now sporting a bizarre Hair Bear Bunch afro, if Spector had been a star in his own right, his trials and travails would be all over Court TV. Thankfully, he hid behind the mixing desk and the biggest, blackest shades this side of Jack Nietzsche, thereby preserving some of his legacy. (Like you can listen to "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough" without a reflexive twinge of sadness.)

 

Critic David Toop has talked about the disconnect between hearing "Be My Baby" on record and seeing the Ronettes live on stage, lost in cavernous British theaters in their immaculate print dresses, their live backing bands not even able to approximate the force of Spector's Wrecking Crew. The first time I ever really heard "Be My Baby" was on a PBS special of all things, on a TV with a shitty mono speaker-- and even then it felt Cinemascope wide and THX intense.

 

But if "Be My Baby" birthed modern studio pop-- the point at which records became artifacts that could not be accurately (or at least easily) replicated in the real world-- then it would be merely impressive. What makes it soar, punch holes in hearts as well as walls, is the lead vocal by Ronnie Bennett. Bennett's voice was a little raw, unlike Darlene Love or Diana Ross, and her kittenish performance that strains slightly at the chorus transmutes the slightly sappy lyrics into possibly the best pop song of all time.

 

5. The Beatles: "A Day in the Life"

 

 

(John Lennon/Paul McCartney)

1967

Chart info: U.S. (N/A), UK (N/A)

Available on Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

 

The Beatles had attempted ambitious mosaics before ("She Said She Said", "Tomorrow Never Knows"), but Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band's epic finale catalogues every explosive element of the Fab Four. George Martin's production revolutionized pop music with its avant-garde opulence. Lennon and McCartney's aural bricolage elevates and parodies itself, and their lyrics distance the group from naiveté and Summer-of-Love idealism. Lest we forget, the opening line notes how someone "blew his mind out in a car" and finds Lennon cackling at corpses, media saturation, and humanity's natural disposition toward violence.

 

When paired with hailing folk and piano, Lennon's portion is as wry and poignant as rock is ever likely to get. In fact, "A Day in the Life" is pretty much the archetype for the Lennon/McCartney duality, firmly distinguishing John as a nightmarish narcophilosopher and Paul as a pragmatic businessman with a schedule to keep. But with its startling juxtaposition of pop melodies and flowery experimentalism, "A Day in the Life" consolidates all of the group's audiences. Here is a song for preteens and acidheads, surrealists and Sinatra fans, the Monkees and the Manson family. That final crescendo, with all its disembodied screams and orchestral terrorism, is surely the most famous-- and strident-- ending of any song in the last 50 years: a caterwauling assemblage of Zen humming, instrumental flairs, and three monolithic pianos stacked on top of one another. Somehow the world's greatest musical icons closed their most famous album with a solid 30 seconds of morbid textural sculpture. By the time the dust settled, Paul was dead, atonalism had gone pop, and four Liverpudlian rockers became high-art heroes.

 

4. Bob Dylan: "Like a Rolling Stone"

 

 

(Bob Dylan)

1965

Chart info: U.S. (#2), UK (#4)

Available on Highway 61 Revisited

 

From its first double-drum crack (which Bruce Springsteen later described as the sound of someone "kicking open the door to your mind"), to its mythical opening couplet (a perfectly seething "Once upon a time..."), "Like a Rolling Stone" is one of Dylan's strangest and most enthralling moments, a big, shambling statement that hovers on the verge of total dissolution, threatening to shimmy your record player (and, potentially, your entire life) off the shelf and onto the floor. One minute in, when Dylan finally hits the chorus, glibly hollering "How does it feeeel?" to an unnamed subject (or possibly himself), his sneer is so convincing it's difficult not to feel deeply ashamed of everything you've ever done, but still desperate for five more minutes of lashings.

 

It's hard to overstate the cultural heft of "Like a Rolling Stone", which puttered to #2 on the pop chart (the first song of its length to do so) and hovered there for nearly three months. In 2005's Like a Rolling Stone: Bob Dylan at the Crossroads, Greil Marcus exhausts 200 pages dissecting the socio-political context and lyrical nuances of "Like a Rolling Stone", ultimately christening the track "a triumph of craft, inspiration, will, and intent," and, more importantly, "a rewrite of the world itself." Certainly, the song transforms every time it's played, expertly adapting to new generations and new vices, just wobbly and amorphous and dangerous enough to knock us over again and again.

 

3. Sam Cooke: "A Change Is Gonna Come"

 

 

(Sam Cooke)

1964

Chart info: U.S. (#31), UK (N/A)

Available on The Man and His Music

 

Filtered through a vessel of honest hurt, message and moment meet modern gospel. Suffering from the recent death of his 18-month old son Vincent and troubled by the omnipotent specter of racism, Cooke caught the unsteady temperament of a nation. Struck by Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind", the Mississippi native detected the folk movement's crucial sense of understanding; they "may not sound as good but they people believe them more," he once said. Sam Cooke sounds pretty great on "A Change Is Gonna Come".

 

After Martin Luther King was assassinated, Rosa Parks listened to "A Change Is Gonna Come" for comfort. The spiritual synergy between King's preaching and the song's painful vignettes is powerful. Both are battered, bruised but vigorous. Rene Hall's classic arrangement, bolstered by French horns, timpani, and a flowering orchestra is pure Hollywood magic but Cooke subverts the Disneyland pomp with anguished realism: "It's been too hard living, but I'm afraid to die/ 'Cause I don't know what's up there beyond the sky." "A Change Is Gonna Come" was released as part of a single only after Cooke's murky murder. He never felt its rapturous reception. Yet, as long as change aches for resolution, the song will stand.

 

2. The Jackson 5: "I Want You Back"

 

 

(Berry Gordy, Jr./Alphonso Mizell/Freddie Perren/Deke Richards)

1969

Chart info: U.S. (#1), UK (#2)

Available on Diana Ross Presents the Jackson 5

 

Writers and producers Freddie Perren, Fonce Mizell, and Deke Richards originally envisioned this as the backing track for a Gladys Knight and the Pips song, but Berry Gordy had other ideas. With a little rewriting he heard it as the perfect vehicle to introduce five kids he'd just signed from Gary, Indiana. And as was so often the case throughout the 1960s, Gordy was right.

 

What is it about this song that cuts through generations and trends and cynicism and makes everyone within its range prick up ears and loosen hips? I once thought my age had something to do with my deep love of this song (it hit the Hot 100 two months and a day after my birth) but here Pitchfork writers up to 15 years my junior heard something special just as clearly. Some of it is Michael Jackson's voice reaching beyond its years, some of it is the Five's supportive backing. But really I think it's the song's most basic structure, possibly the best chord progression in pop music history. The descending bit on the chorus is joy reduced to its molecular level: G / C / G / Em / Am / C / G.

 

1. The Beach Boys: "God Only Knows"

 

 

(Tony Asher/Brian Wilson)

1966

Chart info: U.S. (#39), UK (#2)

Available on Pet Sounds

 

I'm sure you've read these: "the world's greatest song," "Brian Wilson's masterpiece," "the most beautiful piece of music ever recorded." Yes, the initiation into the Museum of Western Popular Music is always rough, as credible historians rush to summarize our collective experiences in short phrases. But for better or worse, "God Only Knows" is the kind of song that's almost impossible for me to talk about divorced from the way it makes me feel: sad, in love, honestly grateful, but also a little hopeless. Even in mono, it's like being swept up by a wave of compassion but still getting bruised.

 

The first words Wilson sings, "I may not always love you," are already uncertain, so if you need a tie into the legacy of 1960s youth culture, glance no further than the naïve but strained optimism locked inside this song. Yet, Wilson made this uncertainty sound gorgeous. The voices that sail behind his might just as well be a quartet of violas and cellos playing counterpoint that'd already been obsessed over a few times before they got it. "God Only Knows" is so ideally conceptualized and realized, critics can't help but support it. Somehow, even that can't turn it into an art exhibit; its humanity resists the attempt. To me, this song is a goodbye to being a kid, and hoping that love actually is the answer. And almost nobody knows if it is.

great choice with "God Only Knows" (on my list it would be no.3). a decent rating which might help us all to find some great music from 60s.

 

thank you, Pitchfork!

yeah, good choice. But, "A Day In The Life" on no.5 ? On my list it would be

on number one or two! one of the best songs ever written.

 

and where's Pink Floyd?

101. Pink Floyd: "See Emily Play"

159. Pink Floyd: "Astronomy Domine"

 

yes, A Day In The Life would be my no.1 or no.2 (in this case Dylan's Like A Rolling Stone would be the no.1) as well

two great soongs from Pink Floyd........especially "Astronomy Domine", best

song from Barrett IMO.

 

Dylan's "Like A Rolling Stone" would be my number 5 I think.

this Pitchfork list made me listen to Pet Sounds after a log period once again! what a great album and slowly i can understand why God Only Knows finished 1st. probably it is the best song from 60s, and not only 60s... it's so emotional, not surprisingly Pet Sounds and particularly God Only Knows influenced Paul McCartney a lot

a little present (the top 200 "rared" in 8 archives):

 

200. The Kinks: "Sunny Afternoon"

199. Nina Simone: "Black Is the Color of My True Love's Hair"

198. Dionne Warwick: "Walk On By"

197. Charles Mingus: "Solo Dancer"

196. Irma Thomas: "Time Is on My Side"

195. James Brown: "Night Train (Live at the Apollo)"

194. The Foundations: "Build Me Up Buttercup"

193. Johnny and June Carter Cash: "Jackson"

192. Alton Ellis: "I'm Still in Love With You"

191. The Cannonball Adderley Quintet: "Mercy, Mercy, Mercy"

190. Leonard Cohen: "So Long, Marianne"

189. The Sonics: "Strychnine"

188. Tyrannosaurus Rex: "Debora"

187. The Walker Brothers: "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore"

186. The Hollies: "Bus Stop"

185. The Temptations: "Get Ready"

184. James Brown: "Mother Popcorn (You Got to Have a Mother for Me)"

183. Bobby Darin: "Beyond the Sea"

182. Patsy Cline: "She's Got You"

181. France Gall: "Laisse Tomber les Filles"

180. The Barbarians: "Moulty"

179. Bembeya Jazz National: "Armée Guinéenne"

178. Otis Redding: "I've Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now)"

177. The Tammys: "Egyptian Shumba"

176. MC5: "Kick Out the Jams"

175. Loretta Lynn: "Don't Come Home a Drinkin' (With Lovin' on Your Mind)"

 

174. Darlene Love: "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)"

173. Phil Ochs: "I Ain't Marching Anymore"

172. Archie Bell & the Drells: "Here I Go Again"

171. Neil Diamond: "Sweet Caroline"

170. Françoise Hardy: "Tous Les Garcons et Les Filles"

169. Stevie Wonder: "Uptight (Everything's Alright)"

168. Albert Ayler: "Ghosts"

167. Stone Poneys: "Different Drum"

166. The Flirtations: "Nothing But a Heartache"

165. The Monks: "Monk Time"

164. Frank Sinatra: "It Was a Very Good Year"

163. Cromagnon: "Caledonia"

162. The Who: "I Can See For Miles"

161. The Zombies: "She's Not There"

160. Os Mutantes: "A Minha Menina"

159. Pink Floyd: "Astronomy Domine"

158. P.P. Arnold: "The First Cut Is the Deepest"

157. Aretha Franklin: "Do Right Woman, Do Right Man"

156. Loretta Lynn: "Fist City"

155. Creedence Clearwater Revival: "Bad Moon Rising"

154. The Kingsmen: "Louie Louie"

153. Lorraine Ellison: "Stay With Me"

152. The Association: "Never My Love"

151. David Axelrod: "The Human Abstract"

150. Bob Dylan: "It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Bleeding"

 

149. Archie Bell & the Drells: "Tighten Up"

148. The Velvet Underground: "Sister Ray"

147. Nina Simone: "Sinnerman"

146. Terry Riley: "In C"

145. Tammy Wynette: "Stand by Your Man"

144. Bobbie Gentry: "Ode to Billie Joe"

143. Scott Walker: "Big Louise"

142. Procol Harum: "A Whiter Shade of Pale"

141. The Supremes: "Baby Love"

140. Donovan: "Season of the Witch"

139. The Impressions: "People Get Ready"

138. The Righteous Brothers: "Unchained Melody"

137. The Dixie Cups: "Iko Iko"

136. Jimi Hendrix: "Voodoo Child (Slight Return)"

135. The Kinks: "Shangri-La"

134. Brian Wilson: "Surf's Up (solo piano version)"

133. The Monkees: "I'm a Believer"

132. Louis Armstrong: "What a Wonderful World"

131. The Byrds: "I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better"

130. John Coltrane: "My Favorite Things"

129. Harry Nilsson: "Everybody's Talkin'"

128. Buffalo Springfield: "For What It's Worth"

127. George Jones: "She Thinks I Still Care"

126. Led Zeppelin: "What Is and What Should Never Be"

125. Miles Davis: "Shhh/Peaceful"

 

124. The Velvet Underground: "Venus in Furs"

123. The Supremes: "I Hear a Symphony"

122. Patsy Cline: "I Fall to Pieces"

121. Glen Campbell: "Wichita Lineman"

120. ? and the Mysterians: "96 Tears"

119. Silver Apples: "Oscillations"

118. The Bobby Fuller Four: "I Fought the Law"

117. Ben E. King: "Stand By Me"

116. Jefferson Airplane: "White Rabbit"

115. The Kinks: "Victoria"

114. Nancy Sinatra: "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'"

113. The Easybeats: "Friday on My Mind"

112. Steve Reich: "It's Gonna Rain"

111. Stevie Wonder: "I Was Made to Love Her"

110. The Four Tops: "It's the Same Old Song"

109. The Byrds: "Eight Miles High"

108. Harry Nilsson: "One"

107. Bob Dylan: "Visions of Johanna"

106. Desmond Dekker & the Aces: "007 (Shanty Town)"

105. Simon & Garfunkel: "America"

104. King Crimson: "21st Century Schizoid Man"

103. Merle Haggard: "Mama Tried"

102. Sly & the Family Stone: "Everyday People"

101. Pink Floyd: "See Emily Play"

100. The Isley Brothers: "It's Your Thing"

 

99. Jimi Hendrix: "All Along the Watchtower"

98. The Zombies: "Care of Cell 44"

97. The Maytals: "Pressure Drop"

96. The Shangri-Las: "Give Him a Great Big Kiss"

95. Sam Cooke: "Cupid"

94. Simon & Garfunkel: "Mrs. Robinson"

93. Can: "Yoo Doo Right"

92. Nick Drake: "River Man"

91. The Who: "Substitute"

90. The Angels: "My Boyfriend's Back"

89. The Stooges: "1969"

88. The Kinks: "You Really Got Me"

87. The Miracles: "The Tracks of My Tears"

86. The Left Banke: "Walk Away Renee"

85. Roy Orbison: "Crying"

84. The Rolling Stones: "You Can't Always Get What You Want"

83. Neil Young & Crazy Horse: "Down by the River"

82. Elvis Presley: "Suspicious Minds"

81. Sam & Dave: "Hold On, I'm Comin'"

80. Bob Dylan: "Subterranean Homesick Blues"

79. Gal Costa: "Baby"

78. Sly & The Family Stone: "I Want to Take You Higher"

77. The Velvet Underground: "Heroin"

76. BBC Radiophonic Workshop: "Doctor Who (Original Theme)"

75. Simon & Garfunkel: "The Boxer"

 

74. James Brown & the Famous Flames: "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag"

73. Bob Dylan: "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right"

72. Van Morrison: "Sweet Thing"

71. Jimi Hendrix: "Manic Depression"

70. Patsy Cline: "Crazy"

69. Dick Dale & the Del-Tones: "Misirlou"

68. The Shirelles: "Will You Love Me Tomorrow"

67. Neil Young & Crazy Horse: "Cinnamon Girl"

66. The Paragons: "The Tide Is High"

65. The Mamas & the Papas: "California Dreamin'"

64. Del Shannon: "Runaway"

63. Stan Getz & Joao Gilberto featuring Antonio Carlos Jobim: "The Girl From Ipanema"

62. The Rolling Stones: "Street Fighting Man"

61. The Supremes: "You Keep Me Hangin' On"

60. Sly & the Family Stone: "Hot Fun in the Summertime"

59. The Velvet Underground: "Sunday Morning"

58. The Beatles: "I Want to Hold Your Hand"

57. Tommy James & the Shondells: "Crimson and Clover"

56. Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot: "Bonnie and Clyde"

55. Jackie Wilson: "(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher"

54. The Monkees: "Daydream Believer"

53. Led Zeppelin: "Whole Lotta Love"

52. Ray Charles: "Georgia on My Mind"

51. Ike & Tina Turner: "River Deep Mountain High"

50. Love: "Alone Again Or"

 

49. Lee Hazlewood & Nancy Sinatra: "Some Velvet Morning"

48. David Bowie: "Space Oddity"

47. The Beatles: "Eleanor Rigby"

46. The Creation: "Making Time"

45. Dusty Springfield: "Son of a Preacher Man"

44. The Supremes: "Where Did Our Love Go"

43. Vince Guaraldi Trio: "Linus & Lucy"

42. The Band: "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down"

41. Leonard Cohen: "Suzanne"

40. The Zombies: "This Will Be Our Year"

39. The Rolling Stones: "Sympathy for the Devil"

38. The Meters: "Cissy Strut"

37. Simon & Garfunkel: "The Sound of Silence"

36. 13th Floor Elevators: "You're Gonna Miss Me"

35. Johnny Cash: "Ring of Fire"

34. The Who: "The Kids Are Alright"

33. James Brown & the Famous Flames: "It's a Man's Man's Man's World"

32. Ennio Morricone: "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (Main Theme)"

31. Nico: "These Days"

30. The Shangri-Las: "Leader of the Pack"

29. The Kinks: "Waterloo Sunset"

28. Otis Redding: "(Sittin' on) The Dock of the Bay"

27. The Velvet Underground: "I'm Waiting for the Man"

26. The Beatles: "I Am the Walrus"

25. The Rolling Stones: "Paint It Black"

24. The Supremes: "You Can't Hurry Love"

23. Etta James: "At Last"

22. Marvin Gaye: "I Heard It Through the Grapevine"

21. The Beach Boys: "Good Vibrations"

 

20. The Shangri-Las: "Out in the Streets"

19. The Beatles: "Tomorrow Never Knows"

18. The Crystals: "Then He Kissed Me"

17. Creedence Clearwater Revival: "Fortunate Son"

16. The Stooges: "I Wanna Be Your Dog"

15. Aretha Franklin: "Think"

14. The Beach Boys: "Don't Worry Baby"

13. The Band: "The Weight"

12. The Rolling Stones: "Gimme Shelter"

11. Led Zeppelin: "Dazed and Confused"

10. Desmond Dekker & The Aces: "Israelites"

9. The Who: "I Can't Explain"

8. Johnny Cash: "Folsom Prison Blues (Live at Folsom Prison)"

7. The Beach Boys: "Wouldn't It Be Nice"

6. The Ronettes: "Be My Baby"

5. The Beatles: "A Day in the Life"

4. Bob Dylan: "Like a Rolling Stone"

3. Sam Cooke: "A Change Is Gonna Come"

2. The Jackson 5: "I Want You Back"

1. The Beach Boys: "God Only Knows"

 

200-175 http://www.sendspace.com/file/d1reo5

174-150 http://www.sendspace.com/file/28ptf2

149-125 http://www.sendspace.com/file/i7xl3s

124-100 http://www.sendspace.com/file/sjvltj

99-75 http://www.sendspace.com/file/8x0cn1

74-50 http://www.sendspace.com/file/9j6ych

49-21 http://www.sendspace.com/file/ao0qi1

20-1 http://www.sendspace.com/file/w0oduc

God Only Knows sends shivers down my spine whenever I hear it.

I am quite liking this list.