This is the final AUK writers’ choice of Top Ten Americana Songs of All Time. Watch out for the countdown to the song voted Number 1, coming shortly.
I finalised this feature knowing Moses had left the mountain. Is being at the end of a rota easier than being at the start? I have followed my colleagues’ choices with interest. Great and glorious choices. We might have shared a few artists, but there are very few identical song choices. What factors led to their decisions, what biases, emotions, past experiences and social influences led them to their final ten choices? In all honesty, I don’t think my list changed that much since this feature was mooted.
For all my revolutionary zeal, my top ten seems top-heavy with masculine songs of love and dependency. My choice of songs cannot help but reflect key moments in my life. Our editor Mark described his songs as contenders for his desert-island playlist, a few lovingly curated and taken out rarely, lest their power weakens with each listen. I can understand that. But with my list of songs, on continuous play in Room 101, I’d like to think I could resist for a mighty long time. And I can only select songs I’ve heard. There are millions I’ve not heard. These songs provoke nostalgic memories, delightful or tinged with remorse. Songs I’ve been known to drive past the turn off to our street, or my place of work, if they are still playing in the car.
Are they all-time great songs? I was born a philistine. “You can take the boy out of Dundee”, as they say. I’ve been lucky; my life chances have given me opportunities to explore that culture tab in the Guardian menu. I was fortunate to visit the Uffizi Gallery last October. Bursting at the seams with what critics tell you are masterpieces. I walked past a few Botticelli’s and Da Vinci’s with indifference. Judith and Holofernes, on the other hand, I learned one of the very few paintings done by a female artist had me rooted to the spot in awe. Roman Charity by Monfredi (1615) incredibly powerful and surely Steinbeck’s inspiration for a famous ending.
Can you remove your own psyche from your song choices? Nah. Add to that, a romantic notion that many of the songs help us bridge our everyday waking lives with the soundtrack to our americana dreams. They help us escape for a while… but we know it can be just as tough, or worse, elsewhere. Enough already, George Jones said it best, “when you’re happy you listen to the music, and when you’re sad you listen to the words.” Feel free to scroll past many of my choices with indifference. 47 minutes is a significant chunk of your day. There will be few surprises for regular americana listeners, but I do hope you find a few to stop and reconnect with.
Number 10: Smog Feather by Feather from Supper (2003)
“When they make the movie of your life/ They’re going to have to ask you/ To do your own stunts/ Because nobody nobody nobody/ Could pull off the same shit as you/ And still come out alright.”
Number 9: Son Volt Medication from Okemah and the Melody of Riot (2005)
Uncle Tupelo brought their Nirvana-like style to the americana table. I followed Farrar. In 2002, Richard Ashcroft released a song called Buy It In Bottles. It somehow captured the mood of Glasgow late at night. At the time, more pertinent than The Blue Nile’s Tinseltown in the Rain. Then Jay Farrar released this song that, in my imagination, perfectly soundtracked a noughties city in pursuit of a decent ¼ gram. A Trainspotting undercurrent ten years later. Best enjoyed driving through any city centre at night, preferably in the rain… observing the human condition for five glorious minutes. But keep driving.
Number 8: Rilo Kiley A Better Son/Daughter from The Execution of All Things (2002)
Another bridge. This time from indie rock band to americana. If you follow this For the Sake of the Song link, you will not be disappointed. With this song at the time I flipped it, being a new, inexperienced father. And depression is serious. “And sometimes when you’re on/ you’re really fucking on/ And your friends they sing along, and they love you/ But the lows are so extreme, that the good seems fucking cheap/ And it teases you for weeks in its absence”. I found out recently that Katie Crutchfield is a big fan. Problem With It nearly made it into my top ten, and it was the highlight of her gig in a sweating Barrowlands Ballroom last June. Anyone who has had a profound influence on Waxahatchee and Snocaps merits adoration. Reformed and touring the UK in June. “And you’ll fight it, you’ll go out fighting all of them.”
Number 7: Drive By Truckers Goddamn Lonely Love from The Dirty South (2004)
This song is playing at the end of chapter seven in The Weight of This World by David Joy. The Drive By Truckers have contributed to the Americana narrative since 1996. In 2001, Jason Isbell became the band’s third guitarist. During his five years with the band, he wrote some outstanding tracks. When the Well Runs Dry ran this one close. The Dirty South is just an outstanding album, and when this final track closes, there’s not a lot you can reach for music-wise. “But I ain’t dreaming anymore, girl, I’m waking up”.
Number 6: Tyler Childers Feathered Indians from Purgatory (2017)
I have a love-hate relationship with Tyler Childers. As if he cares. With the guiding hand of Sturgill Simpson, Purgatory should have won a Grammy. I do feel a bit guilty I’ve not included a Sturgill Simpson song in this list. As if he cares. Lady May and Whitehouse Road could have taken the place of this track on another day. To me, his output since has been irritating but interesting. Some great songs, but some awful ones too. Down Under for one. But I’ve seen this fella twice in less than six months, and his entertainment value is enormous. His love songs just hit a nerve and are worth waiting for. He played Jersey Giant last Friday at the Hydro, but not this one. An all-time favourite of both my wife and I. I can understand why Childers has taken the decision to stop playing this live out of respect for native Americans, but it’s still a beautiful song. Tyler’s fascination and turmoil surrounding love and religion. There’s a lot already written about this perfect song. “If I’d known she was religious / Then I wouldn’t have came stoned.”
Number 5: Ruston Kelly Big Brown Bus from Dying Star (2018)
Right now, if there was one artist I would skip school to go and see, it would be Ruston Kelly. Dying Star is a magnificent album. Nobody fucks up like Ruston Kelly, and no one can put it in a song like he does. He can write beautiful love songs, too. I thought I’d try and veer away from this track and choose Closest Thing from Shape & Destroy. There’s always something in my eye when I hear the lines “You blew in like a feather/ And I dropped a thousand feet.” But I think Big Brown Bus is contemporary Americana at its finest. A leaving song. Brittle, battered and strung out but forever hopeful. And as always, a little divine intervention wouldn’t go amiss. Luscious pedal steel from Kelly Snr too. If you’ve got time, there’s a live version of this song on Youtube w/ special guest Jason Isbell.
Number 4: Richmond Fontaine Don’t Skip Out on Me from You Can’t Go Back If There’s Nothing To Go Back To (2016)
What can you say? Already another colleagues number 1. Read the book(s). Buy the album(s). Amy Boone makes his country-soul band. Willy Vlautin should be in the White House. This song just continues to break your heart.
Number 3: Jeffrey Martin Red Station Wagon from Thank God We Left The Garden (2023)
“The church was a boot on your neck since the day you were born.” A perfect ten album reviewed in AUK that I totally agreed with. And this song appeared on Fred Arnold and Graeme Tait’s top ten lists. Good company. I was fortunate enough to see this fella at Celtic Connections last month. He is one of the good guys. This song is subtle, beautiful and challenging. With bigotry emboldened by recent events, this song takes on even more significance. An admission of our failure to accept. I have regrets about the past and staying silent. This song still makes me well up sometimes. Live, Martin was a quite magnificent musician and presence. He asked the audience to write him some feedback the old-fashioned way. It’s in the post, Mr Martin. “The world wants a man who is hard, not hard to define”
Number 2: Jason Molina Being in Love from The Lioness (2000)
“We are proof that the heart is a risky fuel to burn” I’m indebted to AUK for introducing the songs of Jason Molina to me. Twenty-five years ago, I’m sure I would have been a huge fan. There’s a documentary coming out soon by Tommy Nickoloff called You Fuckers Figure It Out: A Jason Molina Story. I had the pleasure recently to review a tribute album to Molina. There’s a great book called Riding With The Ghost written by Erin Osman that’s worth a read. Until reading, I was unaware that Glen Hansard had released a tribute EP in 2015. Can a great song be bettered by another artist? Love this version. “I’m sure we’ll find new things to burn”.
Number 1: The Turnpike Troubadours Diamonds & Gasoline from Diamonds & Gasoline (2010)
My favourite band. My favourite track. Zach Bryan chose the Turnpike Troubadours as one of his support acts last summer for his Hyde Park headline shows. The Troubadours sneaked in a few gigs of their own. For once, we were down with the kids on the plane to London. All cowboy hats and boots, they were travelling to see Bryan and mightily impressed we were going to see the band he had requested to be his support. A magical Friday night at the Assembly Hall in Islington. A surprise appearance by Bryan on stage. A tame attempt at singing a bit of The Bird Hunters. Tolerated and then swatted away by Evan and the band. This is no support band. Whole Damn Town, Everygirl, Gin, Smoke & Lies are classics, but this song always. Nowadays happiness is a cabinet full of Turnpike Troubadour records and someone to share them with. “If I can’t afford you darlin’/ Then I can’t afford to dream”.
