For those of you outside the U.S., today is National Joe Day — an important holiday stateside. Anyone named Joe (or Joseph, Josephine, Joey or Johanna) gets the day off. No work, no mail delivery, no access to federal buildings. Some Joels try to sneak in on the action, but they’re swiftly dealt with—usually by a retired mall cop wielding a two-by-four.
By 1966, rock and pop music had reached a critical turning point. The early, relatively simple sounds of rock and roll were giving way to a more experimental, ambitious approach, yet the airwaves were still filled with instantly memorable melodies. The year saw the release of songs that would go on to define entire careers—The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations” took pop production to new heights, The Four Tops’ “Reach Out (I’ll Be There)” solidified Motown’s dominance, and The Rolling Stones’ “Paint It Black” pushed rock into darker, more dramatic territory. Meanwhile, The Monkees burst onto the scene with “I’m a Believer,” adding a dose of manufactured but undeniably catchy charm to the mix.
Psychedelia was creeping into mainstream music, foreshadowing the sonic explorations that would fully take hold in the coming years. The Byrds’ “Eight Miles High” and The 13th Floor Elevators’ “You’re Gonna Miss Me” hinted at a new, mind-expanding direction for rock, while The Beatles’ “Paperback Writer” and its B-side, “Rain,” found the band toying with the limits of studio technology. The Who’s “My Generation,” released in late 1965 but peaking on the US charts in ’66, captured the rebellious energy of youth culture, while ? and the Mysterians’ “96 Tears” gave garage rock one of its most enduring anthems.
Soul music was also in full bloom, delivering some of its most powerful and enduring records. Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman” became an instant classic, dripping with raw emotion. Jimmy Ruffin’s “What Becomes of the Brokenhearted” and The Supremes’ “You Can’t Hurry Love” showcased Motown’s knack for blending heartache and joy in equal measure. Meanwhile, James Brown’s “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World” was a testament to his singular ability to infuse deep soul with commentary. Over in the R&B realm, Ike & Tina Turner’s “River Deep – Mountain High”—though not a hit in the U.S. at the time—demonstrated producer Phil Spector’s bombastic “Wall of Sound” approach at its most overwhelming.
The year also had its share of songs that were simply too infectious to ignore. The Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Summer in the City” painted a sweltering urban landscape with its mix of laid-back verses and explosive choruses. Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” turned a simple, stomping beat into a statement of defiant cool. The Walker Brothers’ “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore” and The Left Banke’s “Walk Away Renée” delivered lush, baroque pop melancholy, while Eddie Floyd’s “Knock on Wood” became one of the defining records of Stax-style Southern soul.
Perhaps what’s most striking about 1966 in retrospect is just how many of these songs have endured. Whether through original recordings, countless covers, or their presence in film and television, these records still resonate. From the garage rock sneer of The Bobby Fuller Four’s “I Fought the Law” to the hypnotic stomp of The Troggs’ “Wild Thing,” the music of 1966 wasn’t just a snapshot of its time—it was the foundation for what was to come.
Few artists have embodied as many roles as Nina Simone. She was a classically trained pianist, a jazz singer, a blues interpreter, a protest leader, and a torch song specialist—often all in the span of a single performance. Simone’s catalog is as vast as her influence, but this playlist highlights the breadth of her artistry, from the tenderness of “I Loves You, Porgy” to the fiery urgency of “Mississippi Goddam.” Whether reimagining the standards or giving voice to the Civil Rights Movement, Simone delivered each song with a conviction that made it undeniably her own.
Simone’s ability to transform a song was unmatched. Her take on “To Love Somebody” strips the Bee Gees’ original of its pop sheen and replaces it with raw yearning, while “I Put a Spell on You” moves beyond Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ theatrical growl into something genuinely haunting. She injected “Mr. Bojangles” with a quiet sorrow that feels more lived-in than nostalgic, and her version of “Here Comes the Sun” trades George Harrison’s optimism for a more hesitant hopefulness. Even when covering others, she reshaped the material to fit her vision.
Yet Simone’s greatest impact may have come through her role as a protest singer. Songs like “To Be Young, Gifted and Black” and “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free” were more than recordings; they were rallying cries. “Mississippi Goddam,” written in response to the murder of Medgar Evers and the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church, remains one of the most blistering indictments of racial injustice ever put to music. “Four Women” delivers a stark, unflinching portrayal of Black womanhood, a subject few artists tackled so directly at the time.
Simone’s ability to balance the political with the deeply personal is part of what makes her catalog so compelling. “The Other Woman” and “I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl” reveal her mastery of intimate storytelling, while “Wild Is the Wind” and “Feeling Good” showcase her ability to evoke sweeping emotion. Even in moments of defiance, as on “Revolution (Pts. 1 and 2)” or “Go to Hell,” there is an undercurrent of vulnerability—Simone was never just delivering messages; she was baring her soul.
Through it all, her voice remained unmistakable: sometimes smooth, sometimes jagged, always expressive. She could whisper, growl, or soar, depending on what the song demanded. Whether she was interpreting Dylan (“Just Like a Woman,” “I Shall Be Released”) or spirituals (“Sinnerman”), jazz standards (“Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out”), or contemporary compositions (“Baltimore”), she inhabited the music in a way that few artists ever have. Nina Simone didn’t just sing—she made sure you felt every note.
The music of 2001 offered listeners a diverse array of sounds, reflecting the eclectic tastes and creative experimentation prevalent at the turn of the millennium. From hip-hop’s continued evolution to electronic music’s broader appeal, the year’s musical landscape was characterized by a spirit of innovation and cross-genre pollination. While not necessarily revolutionary, 2001’s musical offerings showcased artists pushing boundaries and audiences embracing fresh sounds across multiple genres.
At the forefront of this sonic revolution was Missy Elliott’s “Get Ur Freak On,” a track that redefined hip-hop with its bold beats and futuristic soundscapes. Elliott’s unique style blended traditional hip-hop with global influences, introducing a raw, hyper-sexualized energy that was both provocative and empowering. This era also saw the rise of Jay-Z with “Izzo (H.O.V.A.),” a masterclass in braggadocio that solidified his status as one of rap’s most influential figures. Meanwhile, newcomer Alicia Keys made her mark with the soulful “Fallin’,” combining classical piano with soulful vocals to create a fresh voice in R&B that earned her critical acclaim and multiple awards.
Electronic music found its way into the mainstream consciousness with Daft Punk’s “One More Time,” a euphoric dance anthem that transcended the dance floor, bridging the gap between underground rave culture and pop sensibilities. This electronic influence seeped into other genres as well, with acts like Gorillaz blending hip-hop, rock, and electronica on their debut hit “Clint Eastwood.” The cross-pollination of genres was further exemplified by Eve and Gwen Stefani’s collaboration on “Let Me Blow Ya Mind,” a standout track that seamlessly merged rap and pop elements.
Rock music in 2001 was marked by both innovation and nostalgia. Radiohead continued to push boundaries with the haunting “Pyramid Song,” a complex composition that resonated with fans and critics alike. Meanwhile, bands like The Strokes and The White Stripes led a garage rock revival with “The Modern Age” and “Hotel Yorba” respectively, influencing a new generation of bands. System of a Down’s “Chop Suey!” delivered a powerful mix of metal and alternative rock, addressing themes of life and death with intense energy. Veterans weren’t left behind, as evidenced by Bob Dylan’s “Mississippi” and R.E.M.’s “Imitation of Life,” both of which showcased the enduring relevance of established artists.
The pop landscape of 2001 was equally dynamic, with artists like Britney Spears (“I’m a Slave 4 U”) and P!nk (“Get The Party Started”) dominating the airwaves with infectious hooks and undeniable energy. Janet Jackson’s “All for You” brought a feel-good vibe with its upbeat tempo and catchy chorus. This era also saw the last major hit from Michael Jackson during his lifetime, “You Rock My World.” From the reggae-pop fusion of Shaggy’s “It Wasn’t Me” to the unexpected success of Afroman’s “Because I Got High,” 2001 offered a rich and varied soundtrack that balanced humor with storytelling, demonstrating that sometimes a catchy hook and a good story are all you need to make a hit. In retrospect, 2001 was a pivotal year that saw the emergence of new stars, the redefinition of established genres, and a time when music felt refreshingly unpredictable, with artists boldly experimenting and audiences eagerly embracing the new and unfamiliar.