Per HolidayInsights.com, today is Compliment Day, created in 1998 by Kathy Chamberlin, of Hopkinton, NH, and Debby Hoffman, of Concord, NH. Offer compliments to people you know and meet. If you need help thinking of some, today’s playlist has you covered:
If you were to press play on the career of Eurythmics, you’d most likely start with “Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This).” It’s the song that made them global stars—an undeniable classic built on a stark synthesizer riff and Annie Lennox’s commanding, soulful vocals. But as a journey through their work reveals, that iconic hit is just one stop on a much more interesting and varied musical map. The creative engine of Eurythmics was the partnership between Lennox and Dave Stewart, a duo whose collaboration was defined by constant evolution, emotional complexity, and a refusal to be confined to a single sound.
From their initial breakthrough, Eurythmics demonstrated a remarkable sonic range. The synth-pop of tracks like “Sweet Dreams” and “Love Is a Stranger” established their early ’80s identity, blending electronic precision with a sense of psychological intrigue. But they were quick to move beyond that mold. Soon, the duo was infusing their music with American R&B and soul, resulting in the brass-fueled declaration of “Would I Lie To You?” and the driving rock of “Missionary Man.” At the same time, they could create lush, string-laden ballads like “Here Comes the Rain Again,” proving that their electronic roots could coexist with grand, orchestral arrangements.
Beneath the polished production, the songs often explored the more complicated aspects of relationships and society. While they could deliver a pure shot of joy like “There Must Be an Angel (Playing with My Heart),” they were equally adept at dissecting paranoia in “Who’s That Girl?” or the bitter end of a love affair in “Thorn in My Side.” This willingness to look at the darker corners is what gives their music its lasting weight. They could craft a powerful feminist anthem with Aretha Franklin one moment (“Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves”) and then create a stark, unsettling piece like “Sexcrime (Nineteen Eighty Four)” for a film soundtrack the next.
The provided playlist also wisely includes a look at their individual paths, which helps illuminate what made the duo’s chemistry so effective. Annie Lennox’s solo career, with hits like the introspective “Why” and the baroque pop of “Walking on Broken Glass,” showcased her incredible power as a vocalist and songwriter in a more personal context. Meanwhile, Dave Stewart’s instrumental hit “Lily Was Here” highlights his strengths as a producer and composer, crafting a distinct mood and melody without Lennox’s voice at the center. These solo ventures weren’t a departure, but rather an extension of the individual talents that made Eurythmics so compelling.
Ultimately, listening to this collection of songs reveals a creative partnership that was always in motion. From the experimental art-pop of “Beethoven (I Love to Listen To)” to the mature reflection of their reunion track “I Saved The World Today,” Eurythmics consistently challenged expectations. They moved seamlessly between genres, moods, and themes, all held together by Stewart’s inventive arrangements and Lennox’s unforgettable voice. They left behind a body of work that is as intelligent and artistically curious as it is full of enduring hits.
Today I’m celebrating World Dream Day, which, per its official website, “serves as a powerful reminder of the potential within each person to contribute positively to the world by advancing their personal and collective aspirations.”
One of the best ways to understand a song’s true strength is to hear it played by someone else. When a song can be lifted from its original context, performed by a different artist in a new style, and still resonate, you know the writers built it on a solid foundation. Looking at the sheer breadth of artists who have successfully interpreted the songs of Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, it becomes clear that their songwriting partnership created something remarkably durable. While their own recordings as The Rolling Stones are iconic, it’s the cover versions that reveal the fundamental power of the compositions themselves.
The playlist immediately highlights how deeply their writing is rooted in the American soul and R&B they revered. It’s one thing to be influenced by a genre; it’s another to write songs that the masters of that genre can inhabit as their own. When you hear Aretha Franklin transform “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” into a gospel-fueled force of nature, or Ike & Tina Turner inject “Honky Tonk Women” with their signature high-octane energy, you realize the songs contain an authentic rhythmic and emotional core. This goes even deeper with Solomon Burke’s take on “I Got the Blues” or Bettye LaVette’s searing, world-weary version of “Salt of the Earth.” These aren’t just covers; they are reclamations, demonstrating that the blueprints Jagger and Richards created were so solid that they could hold the weight of the most powerful voices in soul music.
What’s also remarkable is the structural flexibility of their work. A great Jagger/Richards song often has a distinct personality, yet its core components—melody, lyrical theme, and chordal movement—are adaptable enough to thrive in entirely new environments. The post-punk angularity of Devo’s “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” strips away the blues swagger to expose the lyric’s timeless complaint of modern alienation. The Sundays reimagine the country-tinged “Wild Horses” as a piece of shimmering, ethereal dream pop, proving the song’s beautiful melody is its true anchor. Even more extreme, the Ramones boil “Out of Time” down to its raw essentials, recasting the shuffling pop song as a driving, three-chord punk declaration, while Ituana finds a relaxed, bossa nova groove in the epic “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” The songs don’t just survive these transformations; they reveal different facets of their character.
Ultimately, this collection of performances underscores that the Jagger/Richards catalog is more than a collection of iconic riffs and rock and roll attitude. These are fundamentally well-crafted songs. They can be country laments in the hands of Johnny Cash (“No Expectations”) or Steve Earle (“Dead Flowers”). They can be theatrical pop statements for David Bowie (“Let’s Spend The Night Together”) or Bryan Ferry (“Sympathy for the Devil”). They can even be played for laughs by “Weird Al” and The Folksmen precisely because the source material is so instantly recognizable. The Rolling Stones’ versions will always be definitive, but these interpretations from other artists give us a clearer view of the writers’ craft, proving the songs stand on their own, ready for anyone to find a piece of their own story within them.
Paul McCartney’s genius as a songwriter extends far beyond his work with The Beatles, revealing itself most clearly in how other artists have transformed his compositions across genres and generations. This remarkable collection of covers demonstrates McCartney’s rare ability to write songs that function as both complete artistic statements and flexible frameworks for reinterpretation. When Joe Cocker turned “With A Little Help From My Friends” into a soulful anthem, or when Guns N’ Roses gave “Live and Let Die” a hard rock edge, they weren’t just covering songs—they were unlocking different emotional possibilities that McCartney had embedded in the original compositions. The breadth of artists drawn to his work, from Aretha Franklin’s gospel-tinged “Eleanor Rigby” to Beyoncé’s contemporary reimagining of “Blackbird,” speaks to the universal resonance of his melodic and lyrical craftsmanship.
What makes McCartney particularly fascinating as a songwriter is his willingness to write specifically for other artists’ strengths while maintaining his distinctive voice. Songs like “A World Without Love” for Peter & Gordon and “Come And Get It” for Badfinger weren’t Beatles cast-offs but carefully crafted compositions that suited those acts perfectly. His collaboration with Elvis Costello on “Veronica” and his work with Michael Jackson on “Girlfriend” show an artist constantly evolving and adapting his approach to different musical contexts. Even when writing for others, McCartney’s melodic sensibility—that ability to find the hook that sticks in your mind—remains unmistakably present, whether it’s the yearning quality of “Yesterday” that En Vogue brought to R&B or the infectious rhythm of “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” that Celia Cruz infused with Latin flavor.
The lasting power of McCartney’s songwriting becomes evident when artists as diverse as Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder, and Andre 3000 find something meaningful in his catalog. These aren’t novelty covers or tribute performances—they’re genuine artistic connections where musicians recognize something in McCartney’s work that speaks to their own creative vision. From Little Richard’s rock and roll interpretation of “I Saw Her Standing There” to k.d. lang’s haunting take on “Golden Slumbers,” each cover reveals new layers in songs that seemed perfectly complete in their original form. This ongoing dialogue between McCartney’s compositions and successive generations of artists suggests something profound about his approach to songwriting: he creates musical spaces that invite inhabitation rather than mere imitation, proving that truly great songs don’t just endure—they continue to grow.
Nineteen sixty-seven stands as a pivotal moment in the evolution of popular music, a year when artistic boundaries expanded dramatically across multiple genres. The musical landscape was transformed by groundbreaking releases from established artists and remarkable debuts from newcomers who would become legends. From Aretha Franklin’s powerful rendition of “Respect” to Pink Floyd’s psychedelic “See Emily Play,” the year produced an extraordinary collection of songs that continue to resonate decades later.
Soul music experienced a remarkable surge, with Aretha Franklin’s definitive version of “Respect” establishing her as the genre’s preeminent female voice. The raw emotion of Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness,” the exuberance of Jackie Wilson’s “(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher,” and the groove-driven “Soul Man” by Sam & Dave showcased the genre’s diversity and emotional range. Motown continued its dominance with several more hits for Diana Ross & the Supremes, including “The Happening,” while Smokey Robinson & the Miracles added “I Second That Emotion” to their growing catalog of hits. Marvin Gaye enjoyed multiple chart successes in 1967, with “Your Precious Love” being just one of several duets with Tammi Terrell that would define this productive period.
Meanwhile, rock music underwent seismic shifts as experimentation became the norm. The Beatles had an astonishingly prolific year, releasing the landmark album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band while also producing standalone singles of remarkable quality like “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Penny Lane.” The Doors’ extended opus “Light My Fire” and The Jimi Hendrix Experience’s revolutionary “Purple Haze” redefined what electric guitars could accomplish. The Rolling Stones contributed the melancholic beauty of “Ruby Tuesday,” which ironically became the bigger hit after radio stations deemed its intended A-side, “Let’s Spend the Night Together,” too controversial for airplay. The Who’s powerhouse “I Can See for Miles” and Buffalo Springfield’s protest anthem “For What It’s Worth” reflected rock’s increasing social consciousness. Perhaps most radical was The Velvet Underground’s “Heroin,” which brought an unprecedented rawness to discussions of addiction.
The year’s diversity extended far beyond these genres. The Monkees transcended their manufactured origins with the wistful “Daydream Believer,” while Van Morrison crafted the timeless “Brown Eyed Girl.” Bobbie Gentry’s Southern Gothic narrative “Ode to Billie Joe” demonstrated songwriting’s storytelling potential, and Procol Harum’s “A Whiter Shade of Pale” merged classical influences with rock sensibilities. Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” and Pink Floyd’s “See Emily Play” pushed psychedelic music further into the mainstream, establishing both bands as significant forces in the burgeoning psychedelic scene.
What made 1967 truly remarkable was how these diverse sounds coexisted and influenced each other, creating a musical conversation that crossed genre lines. This was the year when album-oriented rock solidified, soul music reached new emotional depths, and psychedelia flowered into mainstream consciousness. The thirty songs listed here barely scratch the surface of a year that saw popular music mature into an art form capable of expressing the full spectrum of human experience. Many artists were at their creative peaks, producing multiple hit singles and groundbreaking albums within this single exceptional year. These recordings capture a moment when musical innovation accelerated at an unprecedented pace, leaving an enduring legacy that continues to inspire and influence musicians more than half a century later.
The music of 1971 was shaped by a world in transition. The optimism of the ’60s had given way to a more complicated reality—political upheaval, the Vietnam War, and shifting cultural norms weighed heavily on society. In response, many artists channeled these changes into their music, whether through protest, storytelling, or deeply personal reflection. The result was a year that produced enduring songs across multiple genres, from confessional singer-songwriter fare to hard-hitting rock and infectious soul.
Some of the most memorable hits of the year leaned into personal themes rather than overt social commentary. Carole King’s “It’s Too Late” and Elton John’s “Your Song” exemplified the rise of the singer-songwriter era, blending lyrical vulnerability with sophisticated melodies. Al Green’s “Tired of Being Alone” showcased his effortless mix of longing and smooth Southern soul, while Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May” became his breakthrough solo hit, telling the story of youthful romance with a blend of folk and rock. At the same time, Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” took a broader view, addressing war, inequality, and injustice in a way that felt both urgent and timeless.
Rock music remained as dominant as ever, though it took on new forms. Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” showcased their thunderous power, while The Who’s “Won’t Get Fooled Again” harnessed synthesizers and political defiance to craft an enduring anthem. The Rolling Stones’ “Brown Sugar,” released without much controversy at the time, has since been reevaluated due to its lyrical content. Meanwhile, The Doors painted a dark, atmospheric landscape on “Riders on the Storm,” and Paul & Linda McCartney’s “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” leaned into whimsical experimentation, proving that rock still had room for playfulness.
Soul and funk made significant strides in 1971, with Sly & The Family Stone’s “Family Affair” pioneering a more subdued, groove-heavy sound. The Staple Singers’ “Respect Yourself” and Curtis Mayfield’s “Move On Up” carried messages of empowerment, while Honey Cone’s “Want Ads” and Jean Knight’s “Mr. Big Stuff” infused attitude into their infectious rhythms. The Jackson 5’s “Never Can Say Goodbye” demonstrated a maturing sound beyond their bubblegum pop beginnings, while Cher’s “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves” and Melanie’s “Brand New Key” brought storytelling into the pop realm with memorable melodies and an enduring campiness.
Fifty-plus years later, the music of 1971 still resonates. Whether through the social commentary of “What’s Going On,” the country-rock warmth of “Me and Bobby McGee,” or the swampy energy of Ike & Tina Turner’s “Proud Mary,” these songs remain essential listening. They serve as both a time capsule and a reminder that great music doesn’t just reflect its era—it continues to shape the generations that follow.