Ask A Music Critic: Who Is The Best Ever At Making Great Driving Songs?

Welcome to another installment of Ask A Music Critic! And thanks to everyone who has sent me questions. Please keep them coming at steve.hyden@uproxx.com.

Topics covered in this column include: The worst mistakes I’ve made as a critic, the inevitably suckiness of the long-delayed new Tool album, the difference between “favorite” and “best,” the time I begged Sturgill Simpson on Twitter to put out a live album, and my 15-track version of The White Album and why it’s inferior to the Beatles’ original magnum opus. But first, we tackle a subject near and dear to my heart.

Every year my friends and I share our lists of favorite movies, albums, etc., and one of the commonly discussed superlatives is “Best Album To Play In The Car.” It might not go to anyone’s very favorite album, but it is nonetheless viewed as an extremely high honor. As a midwesterner, I know you must have strong feelings about this. What are the best driving albums of the last decade? What is the greatest driving album of all time? Who is the greatest driving artist/band (and no, I don’t think saying Springsteen is cheating) –Stephen from New York City

Of course I have strong feelings about this! I wrote an in-depth piece about the science of driving songs a few years ago. Here’s an excerpt:

First, it depends on where you’re going — certain environments demand the right sonic accompaniment. Occasionally, you can stage-manage it. The last time I traveled to Los Angeles, I prepared for the trip by purchasing Kendrick Lamar’s good Kid, m.A.A.d. city on CD. (I similarly packed My Morning Jacket’s It Still Moves for my first road trip through Kentucky and Tennessee.) Was spending $13.99 for a disc to be played during a 30-minute nighttime drive from the airport to my hotel worth it? Absolutely. I would also pay top dollar to see 2001: A Space Odyssey in a movie theater situated on the lunar surface. Sometimes, experience must trump convenience.

I think I just partly answered your question about the best driving album of the decade: good Kid, m.A.A.d city is certainly the greatest car LP if you happen to be cruising around SoCal. But my favorite driving album of 2017 was also my favorite overall album of the year: A Deeper Understanding by the War On Drugs. The first time I played the promo of that record, I was driving at dusk, which was the perfect way to take in all those guitar solos and atmospheric synth riffs.

As to the greatest driving music artist ever, I’ll go back to my 2015 treatise on the subject. I delineated three attributes for driving songs. Songs I like to hear behind the wheel must adhere to at least one of these categories:

1. It must align philosophically with the possibilities of the road. (This applies to songs like Bruce Springsteen’s “Born To Run,” Dr. Dre’s “Let Me Ride,” and Willie Nelson’s “On The Road Again.”)

2. It helps if it’s music that nobody in the house can tolerate. (This only applies if you’re married, have kids, or live with roommates. Because you have to blast those black-metal jams somewhere.)

3. It must move in lockstep with your nervous system. (This relates to a 2013 study showing that the safest drivings songs are between 60 and 80 beats per minute, which replicates the pace of a healthy human heart.)

The only artist or band who satisfies all three criteria is the Grateful Dead — they have great songs about the road (“Truckin’,” “Jack Straw,” “Casey Jones”), I can’t really blast them around the house (my wife hates the Dead), and their speciality is mid-tempo jams that groove without rocking all that hard.

Which albums from five to 10 years ago would you want to revisit and even make a change to the review? — Chris from Birmingham, Ala.

Two albums come immediately to mind: I think I was too hard on U2’s Songs Of Innocence when it came out. The bungled “everybody gets a free U2 album!” promotional rollout poisoned the well, to the point where it was impossible not to write about it when assessing the LP. In retrospect, all of the superfluous noise (which, it must be noted, was largely created by U2 itself) obscured a pretty good late-period U2 record. I stand by my criticism of the tepid production and the fatal lack of Edge’s trademark guitar echo. But “Every Breaking Wave” is as close to an all-time U2 song as this band has gotten this decade. I’ve grown to appreciate many of the tracks as well.

The other album is Tobias Jesso Jr.’s 2015 debut, Goon, a record that many in the music press (including yours truly) fell for upon release and then promptly forgot about because, well, it’s a fairly callow and unexceptional album. If I could do it all over again, I probably would have just ignored it.

I am huge fan of Tool. Like may Tool fans, I have hung on every little tidbit of information that comes out about the new album since the members of Tool started dropping breadcrumbs back in 2010 or so. For the first several years, I would get excited each time a rumor would start (generally based on some offhand comment from Danny Carey) and dream of the possibilities. Over the course of time though, I have grown a little cynical and have tampered my expectations. In an interview recently, Danny Carey confidently indicated that the new album would come out in 2018. For the first time, I realized that I am actually not excited about it at all. I just can’t imagine that a band that has not recorded new music for 12 years, with all members in or approaching their 50s, can put out music at the same level.

My question: Is there any precedent for a band going 12 years between releases and actually delivering a satisfying new album? –Brendan from Spokane

You’re not the only one who’s been waiting a long time for a new Tool album. At the beginning of 2017 I asked whether this was “the year that enigmatic alt-metal band Tool stages a comeback” Back then, my speculation was based on the band booking some early festival dates. Of course, I was wrong. But maybe this is the year?

Actually, I won’t even try to guess when the follow-up to 2006’s 10,000 Days will finally drop. However, there is a precedent for bands or artists taking extended breaks and then coming back just as strong as ever. There’s David Bowie, who took almost a decade off before concluding his life and career with two stellar albums, 2013’s The Next Day and 2016’s Blackstar. There’s Aphex Twin, who came back in 2014 with a new (very good) album after a 13-year hiatus from new music. There’s D’Angelo’s Black Messiah, released after a 14-year gap from his previous record, Voodoo. There’s My Bloody Valentine’s m b v, which came out 22 years after its predecessor, Loveless. You could almost argue that the trend is to not suck when you finally re-emerge.

Having said all that, if I had to put down money, I would bet on the next Tool album being bad. Just a hunch. Sorry.

Your 2017 list was expressly a favorite list and not a best list. If you were making a best list, what factors would you give more value than got value on your favorite list? –Chip from Raleigh, N.C.

About five or six years ago, I started referring to my year-end albums list as my “favorite” rather than “the best” records of the year. I just felt that it was more honest — I was compiling the albums that I enjoyed playing the most over the course of 12 months, not doing an inventory of the top .01 percent of all the music released during that period. That level of comprehensive listening is what “best” implies, and certainly demands. And, frankly, no critic on earth comes close to satisfying that standard. So, “favorite” to me seems more appropriate. It also sounds friendlier. I like the idea of sharing music that I love at the end of the year more than picking fights. (Not that I’m against picking fights on occasion, just not during the holiday season!)

I’m not sure what criteria I would use to determine best, exactly, since I think it’s possible to be “best” at so many different things. (The aforementioned question about driving music being just one of infinite examples.) But, like I argued in the first Ask A Music column, I definitely don’t think you can determine “best” in the moment, or even at the end of a given year. It takes time, perhaps more time that any of us have on this planet. Have I successfully evaded your question?

Can you use your platform to demand a live Sturgill Simpson album? –Hayden from Portland, OR

Yes, because I agree that Sturgill should put out a live record. As much as I love his studio LPs, they’re no match for one of the best live shows you’ll see from anybody right now.

I’m not sure how much good this will do, but this did happen.

Sturgill liked the tweet! Please listen to Hayden, Sturgill!

What is the perfect single album version of The White Album? Just finished reading Rob Sheffield’s great Beatles book and have been thinking about this a lot. It’s obviously a great album, but it would surely be even better with a solid 15 songs as opposed to an inconsistent 30. The first few cuts seem obvious (is anyone keeping “Wild Honey Pie”?) but then towards the end you have to make some tough choices. –Kale from Springfield, MI.

I disagree with the premise of this question! To me The White Album is great because it is excessive and even erratic. I love The While Album precisely because it throws so many things against the wall — sure, some of it doesn’t stick, but even the failures to me are fascinating. Aren’t there already enough perfect Beatles albums in the world? Why would you want to clean up such a glorious mess? As Paul McCartney says in The Beatles Anthology, “it’s great, it sold, it’s the bloody Beatles White Album, shut up!”

That said, I’m intrigued by the idea of making a 15-track version of my favorite Beatles album. A 50 percent White Album!

Side 1

1. “Back In The U.S.S.R.”
2. “Dear Prudence”
3. “Glass Onion”
4. “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da”
5. “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”
6. “Happiness Is A Warm Gun”
7. “I’m So Tired”
8. “Blackbird”

Side 2
1. “Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?”
2. “Julia”
3. “Mother Nature’s Son”
4. “Sexy Sadie”
5. “Helter Skelter”
6. “Cry Baby Cry”
7. “Long, Long, Long”

A few notes: I’m not thrilled to leave off “Rocky Raccoon,” “Don’t Pass Me By,” “Yer Blues” and “Everybody’s Got Something To Hide Except Me And My Monkey.” I know people will be annoyed that I included “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da,” but I feel like you have to include at least one of The White Album‘s “kind of annoying kiddie” tracks. I will fight anyone who argues against “Why Don’t We Do It In The Road?” I think I prefer side two to side one, even though I prefer the first half of the regular White Album to the second half. I know this version of The White Album is not as great as the real White Album, even though it’s more concise. And I don’t think any 15-track version would be superior.