Stop the presses! Addendum to NYT

In the wake of the New York Times’ recent list about the greatest living American songwriters, I decided to add some of my own selections the paper omitted. Thirty seemed a big project, especially since there aren’t that many I prefer to the crème de la crème of the Times’ list. I ultimately went with 15, figuring around half of the NYT picks rank highly in my own pantheon. The list is presented alphabetically. I’m also following the paper of record’s pick of five songs that best support their selection; however, each artist’s compositions are listed in general order of preference.

These choices are not in lieu of the NYT’s, which is a pretty credible effort. I’m definitely on board with Stevie, Lucinda, Willie, Dylan, Dolly, OutKast, Springsteen, Valerie Simpson, and especially Holland/Holland. The list also sent me on a deeper dive into the impressive catalog of The Dream. My picks are obviously personal, though I don’t see how a couple of these artists–especially a couple of legends who achieved massive commercial and critical success—were omitted from the Times’ version. On the other hand, upon reflection I can’t believe we both left out Smokey Robinson; his top five is in company with anyone here. Or, for that matter, Randy Newman (who doesn’t quite peak as high as fellow sixties gun for hire Carole King’s superb highlights recorded by the Shirelles (Will You Love Me Tomorrow), Aretha (Natural Woman), and herself (I Feel the Earth Move)) but has a more extensive and varied catalog.

Without further ado, here are my fifteen, all of whom would join– and in some cases even exceed– the writers listed above if I ran the Times:

Black Thought (The Seed (2.0), The Day, Sometimes, The Darkest Part, Now or Never)

                The primary voice in my favorite 21st century band, The Roots, Black Thought has written/co-written numerous classics both known and obscure. The top two choices here are from the group that made his name, but the third and fourth are solo from his outstanding collaboration with Danger Mouse, Cheat Codes. But he’s got more not only with the group, but on other solo ventures/collabs that preceded Cheat Codes.

Chuck D (Give It Up, Welcome to the Terrordome, He Got Game, Bring the Noise, Fight the Power)

                As mentioned, my list isn’t weighted, but if it was Chuck D would top it. All five of the Public Enemy classics listed here are upper-echelon picks, and you could add many more from Nation of Millions and Fear of a Black Planet alone (not to mention the underrated Apocalypse ’91 that transitioned their pop-ish free jazz stylings into a grind defining their style for decades after the heyday). An incisive lyricist, he’s also got a great sense for vocal hooks. And his intensity tops anyone in this group or the NYT list.

George Clinton (Standing on the Verge of Getting It On, Get Dressed, Give Up the Funk, Atomic Dog, Flashlight)

                Dr. Funkenstein gets more love for grooves and apparel than his writing craft, but will you look at this list?! All written or co-written by George (generally with close P-Funk associates such as Bootsy Collins, Bernie Worrell, Garry Shider, Eddie Hazel, etc.), and all with lyrics as entertaining as the massive hooks and musical innovations. Two are from his first “solo” album Computer Games and it could have been more (the title track, Loopzilla, Free Alterations). Two are from the seventies hit machine Parliament, and it could have been more (Up for the Down Stroke, Chocolate City, Do That Stuff). My number one is from his jam band Funkadelic. Most would go with that group’s later radio move One Nation Under a Groove, and I won’t argue because it’s so amazingly awesome (if the Times had gone with a six-pack, One Nation would definitely be my next pick). But Standing on the Verge is so kinetic, with those tremendous P-Funk guitars high in the mix, while maintaining the catchy bounce of the best Parliament smashes. The various Clinton/P-Funk iterations reached the mountaintop often, but Standing is the one that for me most exemplifies all of their virtues.

Alejandro Escovedo (The Rain Won’t Help You When It’s Over, Guilty, By Eleven, I Was Drunk, Sensitive Boys)

                Escovedo hasn’t topped his True Believer creative breakthrough that leads this list; it was a cultural touchstone for pretty much everyone I knew in mid-eighties Central Austin, but it deserved to be massive everywhere. Since then, he’s added range, depth, and conceptual vision. I’ve got two ballads here, a definite strength that best showcases his voice. But as always I prefer the top rockers, and this group only scratches the surface.

John Fogerty (Fortunate Son, Lodi, Green River, Down on the Corner, Have You Ever Seen the Rain)

                Perhaps the most surprising omission from the Times’ list, Fogerty could do no wrong from 1968 through 1970. Not a long period, but it was definitely prolific: five good-to-great albums loaded with original classics and surprisingly effective covers of inimitable standards. The sporadic solo period wasn’t as fruitful; only Centerfield and maybe The Old Man Down the Road are even close to the Creedence Clearwater Revival highlights.

Al Green (Take Me to the River, Tired of Being Alone, Belle, Let’s Stay Together, Stand Up)

                A wonderful singer and a superb interpreter, Green does not get his due as a writer. The vast majority of the long stream of hits he released throughout the seventies were his own, and a lot of the album tracks (such as Stand Up) are excellent as well. He started as the heir apparent to the Sam Cooke/Otis Redding styles, but quickly forged a unique path with near universal appeal.

Kathleen Hanna (Just My Kind, Les and Ray, Hot Topic, Let Me Go, Rebel Girl)

                The first and fourth songs listed here are from the comparatively recent Julie Ruin band; two and three are from the earth-shattering Le Tigre debut; the last is the showpiece from the Bikini Kill era that made her reputation forever. Hanna is an absolute national treasure with wit, smarts, and attitude along with the conceptual brilliance to highlight her skill and panache.

Imperial Teen (You’re One, Our Time, Room with a View, Butch, Million $ Man)

                Not as prolific as many of the artists mentioned here, but they’ve got four stellar albums loaded with catchy and sharp songs (all credited to the group, individually Roddy Bottum, Will Schwartz, Jone Stebbins, and Lynn Perko Truell). Despite fashioning a direct, accessible sound, they’re likely the least celebrated of my dozen choices. But check out these five, and I’ll bet they come off as radio-ready to you as they do to me. If you concur, then dig deeper: they’ve got 15-20 more that are almost as good.

Stephen Malkmus (Cut Your Hair, Range Life, Transport Is Arranged, Trigger Cut/Coming Back Today, We Are Underused)

                Malkmus is more post-modern than anyone else on my list and probably the Times’ as well, but he made the cut because he’s funny and knows a great musical riff when he finds it. Over Pavement’s five full-length records, three are virtually perfect, with near misses in the overstuffed album and a half and the comparatively low on fuel finale. He had a little writing help from fellow guitarist Spiral Stairs/Scott Kannberg that definitely put a couple of the LPs/CDs over the finish line. But Malkmus was the genius, and top album Crooked Rain Crooked Rain (which features my top two picks listed here) stands with the best not only of the nineties, but any era.

Rhett Miller (Rollerskate Skinny, Buick City Complex, Oppenheimer, Barrier Reef, Big Brown Eyes)

                Maybe the most natural writer on the list other than Al Green, his wordsmithing approaches Dylan and his pop sense isn’t too far off Liz Phair. Miller also thrives through unique experiments (his reworking of Dylan’s Desolation Row with entirely new lyrics is as clever as a premium hip-hop sample) and whimsy (one of the top tracks not listed here details his then-recently signed Old 97s “robbing” the record companies, followed by a leisurely California-style getaway drive). He’s been at it for more than 30 years, quietly amassing a catalog of collective and solo winners; all of the albums feature multiple greats, the best ones sustaining it all the way through.

Louie Perez (Will the Wolf Survive, One Time One Night, Mas y Mas, Forever Night Shade Mary, Don’t Worry Baby)

                Perez is highlighted among his Los Lobos brethren for his collegiality and adventurous spirit; he routinely co-writes with David Hidalgo, but also assisted Cesar Rosas on their best album’s leadoff track Don’t Worry Baby. Additionally, he and Hidalgo moonlighted with Latin Playboys in the nineties, featuring one song here (Forever Night Shade) and creating several other gems. But it’s the Lobos who couldn’t miss for a couple of decades, and they still put on a great show today.

Liz Phair (Ride, Help Me Mary, 6’1”, Why Can’t I, Divorce Song)

                She’s got a solid following, but Phair deserves to be a household name. The two virtually perfect albums Exile in Guyville and Whitechocolatespaceegg are both represented here twice, and each record features abundant honorable mentions. The eponymous later album isn’t as consistent, but Why Can’t I and others show it peaks almost as high as her two masterpieces.

Amy Rigby (20 Questions, All I Want, Dancing with Joey Ramone, That’s the Time, Do You Remember That)

                More urbane than John Prine or Lucinda Williams, Rigby matches them in showcasing perfectionism made more likable by casual presentation. Little Fugitive and Diary of a Mod Housewife are both solid from start to finish, and she’s got winners elsewhere: both on other solo albums and in combination with husband Wreckless Eric.

Raphael Saadiq (Bodyguard, Cuff It, Thinking of You, Untitled, Love That Girl)

                I’m not sure which is more impressive, Saadiq approximating Al Green and Motown sound (respectively on Tony Toni Tone’s Thinking of You and the solo Love That Girl) or nearly matching their song quality. He also deserves props for adjusting to D’Angelo’s style on Untitled (the sorely missed singer returned the favor on their Be Mine collaboration). But Saadiq is on this list for his co-writing of my two favorite Beyonce songs, the top two choices here. Both songs have a lot of writers pitching in, but Bodyguard in particular is so awesome I’d consider putting them all on the list.

Dean Wareham (Bobby Peru, Anesthesia, Slash Your Tires, Beautiful View, Speedbumps)

                He’s written great stuff solo, with wife/bassist Britta Phillips, and back in the day with Galaxie 500 (Tugboat!). For me, though, Luna is where Wareham’s immense talent is most successfully realized. Every song through their seven-album, several-EP run is at least good, and an admirable percentage are excellent and beyond. All of the artists on this list have much deeper catalogs than my top fives featured here, but other than Chuck D, Luna comes closest to boasting a second group–Hedgehog, Time to Quit, Smile, This Time Around, and Tracy I Love You—in the qualitative company of the first.

Additional note: I went with the NYT’s presidential-style American-born restriction, but let’s not forget that Neil Young is a naturalized U.S. citizen. He would easily top my addendum list. Top five originals? For starters, Comes a Time, Country Home, Too Far Gone, Thrasher, Don’t Cry No Tears, all from different albums and only the first selection released as a single (it failed to chart, even though B-side Motorcycle Mama is just as apropos a choice for this list).

Would he top the Times’ selections? Almost. Motown’s Brian & Eddie Holland are unparalleled, worthy in discussions of the greatest songwriters in American history, period. And let’s not limit it nationally: their work with the unfortunately departed Lamont Dozier for me is even more impressive overall than Lennon/McCartney, Jagger/Richards, Bob Marley, obviously very high bars. Add to that both Holland brothers’ collaborations with other Motown writers–especially Eddie’s work for the Temptations–and they’ve amassed a catalog that probably hasn’t been equaled and may never be.