Delaware -- The Promise Ring's "Is This Thing On?" from Nothing Feels Good
You remember this one: "Delaware are you aware?" These guys can always be counted on for geography lessons in song form -- damned if they didn't invent emo by playing songs about places and things instead of feelings, and everybody was always harping on them for being "love-sick". If it's sick to love a state, color me ill, cause I love me some Illinois.
Arkansas -- The Gossip's "Arkansas Heat"
Dirty punk groove from perhaps the only good thing ever to come from the Wal-Mart state. We think Beth has a nomination for state bird, too.
Michigan -- Superchunk's "Detroit Has a Skyline" from Here's Where The Strings Come In
A call to arms for the little guys, a song about the ways in which hipsters attempt to co-opt the identity of their (often transplanted) hometowns into their own personalities. The song's title let's us know: "Detroit has a skyline, too", as if to say, "It's just a city" or "It's the city, not you". One of the best song-opening drum fills ever.
Florida -- John Vanderslice's "Gainesville, FLA" from Time Travel Is Lonely
Vanderslice's hometown forever elegized as the final track of his masterpiece. An album all about getting away, it ends with a sense of home, a piano-driven composition that's lost in the clouds above the Atlantic and in the reverence we have for childhood: "I was born in a summer storm / grass was cold but the sky was warm / and so I hover now in between the slight sliver where life can breathe." Beautiful.
Indiana -- The Jackson 5's "Going Back to Indiana"
So, before the surgery, before the duets with Sir Paul, before the construction of Neverland, before the charges of kiddie abuse, Michael Jackson was himself a little boy, singing his heart out with his four big brothers about "Going back to Indiana / That's where my baby's from." Message from Tom Wolfe, kid: you can't go home again.
Nebraska -- Josh Rouse's "Dressed Up Like Nebraska" from Dressed Up Like Nebraska
A vivid image and a wondrous hook. When Rouse sings "I can't touch you where you are / and you still dressed up like Nebraska", it's like a sorrowful howl against regret, like the wind that starts just beyond the Rockies.
Washington -- Death Cab For Cutie's "405" from We Have The Facts And We're Voting Yes
As hard-working a band as there is in independent music; it's fitting that one of DCFC's best songs is about a highway in their home state.
Kansas -- Kansas's "Dust In the Wind" from Point of Know Return
When I think of the dust bowl and the Kansas Jayhawks and cheesy wedding songs, it's all about "Dust in the Wind", 'cause that's all we are. Now.
West Virginia -- Uncle Tupelo's "Coalminers" from March 16-20, 1992
To someone from the Midwest, West Virginia is about a foreign a land as Costa Rica. Mountains? What are those? No matter; Jay Farrar is the indie-rock equivalent of Howard Zinn -- the entire album is A People's History of the United States in the key of D. "Coalminers" specifically details the plight of the "Company Men" who unionized coal mining in the early 1900s. "I am a coalminer / and I'm sure I wish you well / let's sink this capitalist system / to the darkest pits of hell." Farrar sounds like I imagine West Virgina looks, and this song has a lot to offer us in these dark, NASDAQ-driven days.
South Dakota -- Bruce Springsteen's "Badlands" from Darkness on the Edge of Town
"Badlands / you gotta live it every day / Let the broken hearts stand / As the price you've gotta pay / We'll keep pushin' till it's understood / And these badlands start treating us good." Yes, Boss, yes. You gotta live it every day.
North Carolina -- Ryan Adams's "Oh My Sweet Carolina" from Heartbreaker
I can sit here and detail all the reasons Ryan Adams is the Rod Stewart of his generation -- heaps of talent and heaps of proof of that talent, but also heaps of proof that he's a drunken buffoon intent on making the most money and sleeping with the most (indie) women -- or I can just tell you that Heartbreaker is the album of this decade and maybe of this generation, the most satisfying and beautiful piece of recorded music about the heart of America since Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska. "Oh My Sweet Carolina" is the album's anchor, a lovelorn ode to Adams's home state and to the ways in which human beings travel the loneliest roads to heartbreak, the roads oft-travelled, so that you're always surrounded but never comforted.
Oklahoma -- Neil Michael Hagerty's "Oklahoma Township"
Hagerty, once of hedonistic outfits like Pussy Galore and Royal Trux, gets religion on this salvation-themed rocker. "Only god can make a honeybee / Only god can rescue me," he observes, undoubtedly earning points with Sooner State bible-thumpers and creationists. Even so, he makes it sound dirty.
Vermont -- Captain Beefheart's "Moonlight on Vermont"
Forget the peaceful village squares, the hot chocolate, the cross-country skiing by moonlight; Captain Beefheart's classic celebrates a Green Mountain State seething with violence and class consciousness. ("No more bridge from Tuesday t'Friday / Everybody's gone high society.") Goes to show you what a little moonlight can do -- anything you want it to, apparently.
Connecticut -- The Pet Shop Boys' "Suburbia"
There aren't any really rocking songs about Connecticut, so we'll have to make do with this stylishly vacant dance-pop classic. "Let's take a ride / we'll run with the dogs tonight," says Neil Tennant, and we just know he's talking about purebred golden retrievers.
Hawaii -- The Spinanes' "Hawaiian Baby" from the Imp Years EP
Rebecca Gates is one of those sparkling talents that bursts into your heart every ten years or so. Manos is the best album Sub Pop ever put out (put that in the proverbial pipe), and remains underappreciated by the many while the devoted few sing its many praises. "Hawaiian Baby" is a cover of a Buffalo Tom song recorded by The Spinanes during the Manos era, one that hints at Gates's recent obsessions with the slowest things. "This is a picture of Hawaii that you brought me..." A great cover.
Arizona -- Wilco's "Hotel Arizona" from Being There
"Do dododo dododo dodododo / That's just something I have to get used to" is why I'm proud J. Tweedy is from Illinois. I saw Wilco at Braden Auditorium in Normal, Illinois with 150 other people right after Being There came out, and the next night Whiskeytown played in Bloomington for about 50 people. I didn't see that, but Tweedy, etcetera, took requests and did two hours before letting us know: "we only played this show so my mom could come see us". Best concert I've ever seen.
Oregon -- The Replacements' "Portland"
A B-side. Most bands would be lucky to craft one song as good as this.
California -- Rufus Wainwright's "California" from Poses
The excessive, over-the-top singer meets the excessive, over-the-top state. Rufus wins, and Arnold slaps some asses.
Colorado -- Jimmy Eat World's "Lucky Denver Mint" from Clarity
The song that confirmed Jim Adkins could be quite a songwriter, when cornered. Tell me you don't love this song.
Utah -- Joel R.L. Phelps and the Downer Trio's "Blessed Salt Lake" from Blackbird
Looking for someone to replace Elliott Smith? You won't find anyone, but you might come across Mr. Phelps and company, a collective putting together some of the most compelling Neil Young-inspired rock'n'roll. Plus you can't beat songs about lakes.
Idaho -- Built To Spill's "Twin Falls, Idaho" from There's Nothing Wrong With Love
The prettiest composition in this whole group, from BTS's masterpiece, There's Nothing Wrong With Love, just a couple of words short of Marvin Gaye's famous incantation, "There's nothing wrong with me loving you." Key line, and most beautiful: "Christmas Twin Falls, Idaho's / her oldest memory / she was only two / it was the first time she felt blue." Inspiring and lovely.
Montana -- Gene Autry's "'Neath the Blue Montana Sky"
Can't you just see it? It's the ultimate cliché, the endless blue of sky, but it's so apt as to inspire bouts of déjà vu.
Iowa -- Engine 88's "Des Moines" from Clean Your Room
A band I loved when I was in high school in beautiful Aurora, Illinois. I paid almost thirty bucks to see Counting Crows, mostly because Engine 88 were opening the show (and because August and Everything After is a seriously great record, but that's for another state...), and I was very much the only person in the crowd who enjoyed their rollicking pop-punk set.
North Dakota -- Thrush Hermit's "North Dakota" from Sweet Homewrecker
Power-pop from Canada before Hot Hot Heat and Broken Social Scene were out of middle school. Yeah, there were only three chords, but they always seemed so new...
Missouri -- Maserati's "We Blew Up the Arch and Now St. Louis is Boring" from 37:29:24
Never a truer song title. Lose the Arch, and all Missouri has is Mark Twain's boyhood home and a bunch of Nascar hats. F the Cardinals.
Texas -- Japancakes' "Dallas" from If I Could See Dallas
A drone-heavy, steel-guitar driven song about Dallas -- both the city and a stripper from the city. I can't make this stuff up, folks.
Mississippi -- Mississippi John Hurt's "Spike Driving Blues"
Delta blues at its most sincere and affecting.
Alabama -- Neil Young's "Alabama" from Harvest
You didn't think you'd see Lynryd Skynyrd, did you? A big middle finger to the good ol' boys who nearly ran this country into a second Civil War in the '60s, and an apt criticism of the social constructs that still influence every movement in the American South.
Tennessee -- Whiskeytown's "Lo-Fi Tennessee Mountain Angel" from Faithless Street
Looking for the Ryan Adams you grew to love on Heartbreaker? Can't wait to throw his latest solo album into the fire? Here's a reason to believe in him again, the talented bastard.
Kentucky -- My Morning Jacket's "From Nashville to Kentucky" from The Tennessee Fire
Oh-so-wonderful hick-rock from Louisville, KY. What happened to this band after the sublime The Tennessee Fire and the sprawling, awe-inspiring At Dawn, I'll never be able to tell, but at least Dave Matthews stayed away long enough to let those two essential albums breathe.
Ohio -- Damien Jurado's "Ohio" from Rehearsals for Departure
Boring? Yes. Captivating? Always.
Illinois -- Spoon's "Chicago at Night" from Girls Can Tell
The keyboard intro to this song is, mood-wise, the most perfect encapsulation of the way a city feels since, well, forever. It's amazing that this band isn't from the Midwest.
Wisconsin -- Braid's "Milwaukee Sky Rocket" from Frame and Canvas
Another go-to band as far as geography/city songs go. Wisconsin ain't got much else beyond Madison and Milwaukee -- just watch American Movie. Bob Nanna is the nicest Icon ever.
Minnesota -- Lifter Puller's "Lake Street is for Lovers" from Fiestas and Fiascos
A concept album about the coldest metropolitan area south of the border, Minneapolis. The best band ever?
Wyoming -- Game Theory's "Wyoming" from Two steps from the Middle Ages
"Come on home, Wyoming" sings Donette Thayer, on the Paisley undergrounders' final album, Two Steps From the Middle Ages. The song is as sweet and lovely and undulating as Wyoming sheep country.
Maine -- Bob Nanna's "Portland, Maine in the Pouring Rain"
Back when he was in Braid but felt the itch to do more, Mr. Nanna released a handful of solo acoustic numbers for public consumption. This one is proof that even the clunkiest of titles can be pulled into a song's chorus.
New Hampshire -- John Fahey's "Thing at the End of New Hampshire Avenue"
Oh, I don't know. You find a New Hampshire Song.
New York -- The Strokes' "New York City Cops"
I lost respect for this band after they took this -- the best song not only from Is This It, but from any album released in 2001 -- off of their debut after 9/11, yet continued playing it live. It's the ultimate example of a band borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, then telling Peter they still had whatever it was he was looking for; they just couldn't find it right now. Or something. Two and some odd minutes of trashy, smashy, blissful rock'n'roll.
Pennsylvania -- Marah's "Point Breeze" from Kids In Philly.
A friend of mine from Philadelphia says this song's opening montage -- hands clapping, "la-la-las" shimmering, bells chiming -- always takes him back to his younger days, watching the Phillies and the Flyers and the Sixers.
Rhode Island -- The Gloria Record's "Good Morning, Providence" from Start Here
Unbelievably emo, and really, really good. You try to write a song about a state the size of most suburbs.
New Jersey -- The Glands' "Welcome to New Jersey" from Double Thriller
This song was mastered on the same board as Thriller. That becomes less and less cool as the days go by, but this is a great, moody pop song.
Massachusetts -- Scud Mountain Boys' "Massachusetts" from Massachusetts
The title track from their Sup Pop debut. Scud Mountain Boys named an entire record after their home state, and it's one of the few albums that compares to Joe Pernice's best work -- as Pernice Brothers -- Overcome by Happiness. It's using a state as a metaphor for home, as a way of holding strong to your roots, as a way to refuse a love who refuses to recognize those roots: "Who are you to tell me? / Who are you to tell me? / Who are you to try and lead me from the place you never even came?"
Alaska -- Modest Mouse's "Trucker's Atlas" from The Lonesome Crowded West
"I'm going up to Alaska / I'm going to get off scot-fucking-free / and we all did." Alaska as metaphor for the Void -- priceless.
Virginia -- Tift Merrit's "Virginia, No One Can Warn You" from Bramble Rose
Yeah, it could be about a girl called Virginia. But remember, Virginia used to extend from the Atlantic to infinity, and besides, they're the ones who pretty much caused the Civil War, so, well... No matter what, it's a beautiful song -- one that showcases one of this generation's most talented female singer-songwriters.
Georgia -- Outkast's "ATLiens" from ATLiens
"Throw your hands in the ai-ur / and wave 'em like you just don't ca-ur / and if you likes fish and grits and all that pimp shit everybody lemme hear you say oh-yay-ur." Sorry. If you could encapsulate my last three years of high school into one song, here it is. Oh, and it's about Atlanta, of course.
South Carolina -- Archers of Loaf's "South Carolina" from the collection The Speed of Cattle
My favorite Eric Bachmann lyric ever -- "For a quarter / you can give him a quarter / and you can go into town with a reason to have an erection / I like your tattoo depiction / South Carolina." Sort of an ode to North Carolina's bastard stepsister -- either the most wondrous place on earth (if you're Pat Conroy), or just another stop on your way from New York to Miami.
Nevada -- Sheryl Crow's "Leaving Las Vegas" from Tuesday Night Music Club
Give me another song that inspired a person to eliminate their own map just because it might have been inspired by a book said person wrote. And tell me that Sheryl Crow doesn't move you, at least a little.
Maryland -- Counting Crows' "Raining in Baltimore" from August and Everything After
Don't tell anyone, but I think August and Everything After might be my favorite album ever. I remember almost wearing out the plastic on the disc, I played it so often. Baltimore, according to a friend, is the nastiest city in the United States. I've heard good things about it, too, but mostly bad.
New Mexico -- Howe Gelb's "Dreamville, New Mexico"
Sounds like Giant Sand (Perhaps because it is? -- Ed.).
Louisiana -- Chuck Prophet's "Baton Rouge" from Balinese Dancer
I wrote a poem in high school called "Baton Rouge" that won me second place in the school's writing competition. Believe me, that was a really cool thing to happen to a 17-year-old with moderate acne and a pickup truck. Chuck Prophet invented roots-rock, according to some people. I'll give it to Steve Earle, The Band and Van Morrison, but hey...
Washington, DC -- The Dismemberment Plan's "The City" from Emergency and I
Yeah, it could be about any city, but this has DC written all over it -- the elastic synths, the drumbeat as recognizable from a distance as the Washington Monument, the ringing guitars addressing the sing-speak vocals: "The city's been dead since you've been gone." DC's a place of "no taxation without representation", a place without a voice, and Mr. Morrison and company finally give it one -- every note perfectly placed, every movement carefully planned yet somehow erratic. The best album of the nineties, without much of a doubt, and it's confirmed with Travis's plaintive howl, like a requiem for a generation: "All I ever say now is goodbye." Indeed, and fucking A.
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