We all know everything
That he stood for time will bring
For in peace our hearts will sing
Thanks to Martin Luther King
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Tunes Du Jour Presents Jeff Lynne & Electric Light Orchestra
Of all the bands that filled the airwaves in the 1970s, perhaps none had a sound as instantly recognizable as Electric Light Orchestra. You know it the moment you hear it: the soaring strings, the stacked vocal harmonies, the crisp, thumping drum beat, and a rock and roll foundation holding it all together. A glance at a playlist of their work, with hits like “Mr. Blue Sky,” “Livin’ Thing,” and “Don’t Bring Me Down,” reveals a remarkable consistency. This wasn’t the sound of a band finding its way; it was the execution of a singular, ambitious vision. That vision belonged to one man: Jeff Lynne.
To understand ELO is to understand Lynne’s role not just as a songwriter and frontman, but as a master producer and arranger. He aimed to create a band that would, as the initial concept went, “pick up where The Beatles left off.” Listening to early tracks like “10538 Overture” or their grand re-imagining of “Roll Over Beethoven,” you can hear that idea taking shape. The music is a deliberate fusion of rock band energy and classical grandeur. Songs like “Telephone Line” and “Can’t Get It Out of My Head” aren’t just pop tunes with strings layered on top; the orchestral elements are woven directly into the song’s emotional core, as essential as the guitar or bass.
What’s particularly interesting is how this sound evolved while remaining unmistakably “ELO.” The band could deliver a straightforward, string-less rocker like “Don’t Bring Me Down,” then pivot to the disco-infused pulse of “Shine a Little Love” or “Last Train to London.” They could craft elaborate, charming narratives in songs like “The Diary of Horace Wimp” or deliver the operatic flair of “Rockaria!” Through it all, Lynne’s production—those tightly harmonized backing vocals, the precise layering of instruments, and an impeccable sense of melody—acts as the common thread, giving the entire catalog a sense of cohesion.
The true scope of Jeff Lynne’s influence, however, becomes clear when you look at the songs on this playlist that aren’t by ELO. Listen to Roy Orbison’s “You Got It” or Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.” The sonic fingerprints are all there: the clean acoustic guitars, the punchy rhythm section, and the rich vocal arrangements are pure Lynne. His sound became so respected that when The Beatles needed a producer to help them complete “Free as a Bird” for their Anthology project, they called him. George Harrison not only enlisted him for his own solo work, like the affectionate “When We Was Fab,” but also made him a bandmate.
That brings us to the Traveling Wilburys. Hearing songs like “End Of The Line” alongside ELO tracks feels less like a departure and more like a family reunion. In this supergroup, Jeff Lynne wasn’t just a producer for his heroes—George Harrison, Tom Petty, Roy Orbison, and Bob Dylan—he was their musical partner, an equal architect of their sound. The playlist, taken as a whole, tells a story not just of a great band, but of a distinct musical creator whose unique approach to record-making left a lasting mark on the work of his peers and the sound of popular music itself.
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Tunes Du Jour Celebrates International Drum Month
Welcome to a journey through rhythm. November is International Drum Month, and this collection honors the masters of the drum kit, the players whose feel, power, and ingenuity define the songs we love. From the tightest pockets to the most explosive solos, these are the heartbeats of modern music. Let’s give the drummers some.
Good Vibrations – The Beach Boys
The legendary session musician Hal Blaine provides the sharp, inventive percussion, using everything from sleigh bells to a detached kick drum to build the song’s complex and sunny atmosphere.
Cissy Strut – The Meters
Joseph “Zigaboo” Modeliste, the architect of New Orleans funk, creates a syncopated, greasy, and endlessly influential groove that has been the blueprint for funk drummers ever since.
Smells Like Teen Spirit – Nirvana
Dave Grohl’s performance is a masterclass in quiet-loud dynamics, with his simple, powerful groove in the verse exploding into a torrent of raw energy for the iconic chorus.
One – Metallica
Lars Ulrich’s machine-gun double bass drumming on the intro is one of metal’s most defining moments, perfectly mimicking the sound of battlefield artillery.
Superstition – Stevie Wonder
The irresistible funk pattern that drives this track was played by none other than Stevie Wonder himself, who laid down the clavinet, bass, and drum parts to create a perfect storm of groove.
The Glamorous Life – Sheila E.
A tour de force from the legendary percussionist and drummer Sheila E., this track is a showcase of her technical virtuosity and incredible funk sensibilities.
In The Air Tonight – Phil Collins
For three minutes, Phil Collins builds unbearable tension before unleashing the most famous drum fill in history, a thunderous burst of gated reverb toms that everyone has air-drummed to.
Rosanna – Toto
The late, great Jeff Porcaro gives a masterclass in the half-time shuffle, creating a feel so iconic and difficult to replicate that it’s now simply known as the “Rosanna shuffle.”
Come Together – The Beatles
Ringo Starr’s signature swampy, tea-towel-dampened tom groove is the unmistakable foundation of this track, proving that feel and creativity are more important than flash.
Brick House – The Commodores
Walter “Clyde” Orange not only provides the lead vocals but also lays down a funk groove so solid and deep you could build a house on it, proving that sometimes the simplest beat is the most effective.
Rock With You – Michael Jackson
Session giant John “JR” Robinson creates a beat that is smooth, sophisticated, and impossibly deep in the pocket, providing the perfect shimmering pulse for dancing.
Sing, Sing, Sing (With A Swing) – Benny Goodman & His Orchestra
Gene Krupa became music’s first superstar drummer with this performance, his primal, floor-tom-driven solo setting the standard for all drum features to come.
Voodoo Child (Slight Return) – The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Mitch Mitchell’s jazz-influenced, wildly improvisational drumming is the perfect foil for Hendrix’s guitar, a chaotic and conversational force of nature.
When The Levee Breaks – Led Zeppelin
Recorded in a stairwell with two microphones, John Bonham’s colossal, booming groove is arguably the most recognizable and revered drum sound ever committed to tape.
Message in a Bottle – The Police
Showcasing his unique, reggae-infused style, Stewart Copeland’s intricate hi-hat work and signature use of the splash cymbal give this song its nervous, driving energy.
Funky Drummer – James Brown
Here, Clyde Stubblefield plays what is perhaps the most-sampled drum break in history, a 20-second piece of rhythmic perfection that became a cornerstone of hip-hop.
Gimme Shelter – The Rolling Stones
The picture of restraint and taste, Charlie Watts enters the song with a deceptively simple beat that carries all the dread and swing the track demands.
I’ve Seen All Good People – Yes
Bill Bruford’s crisp, creative, and complex drumming is on full display, navigating the song’s shifting sections with technical precision and musical grace.
50 Ways to Leave Your Lover – Paul Simon
Steve Gadd lays down one of the most recognizable and clever marching-band-inspired beats in popular music, a sophisticated and instantly memorable pattern.
Think (About It) – Lyn Collins
Another gift to hip-hop from the James Brown band, this track features John “Jabo” Starks’s impossibly tight groove and a legendary drum break that keeps on giving.
White Room – Cream
The inimitable Ginger Baker announces this psychedelic classic with a powerful 5/4 tom-tom intro, setting the stage with his heavy, melodic, and groundbreaking style.
Hot For Teacher – Van Halen
Alex Van Halen’s frantic, shuffling intro sounds like a barely-contained engine, kicking off one of the most exhilarating double-bass-fueled drum tracks in rock history.
Sunday Bloody Sunday – U2
Larry Mullen Jr.’s militaristic, unrelenting snare drum pattern, recorded in a reverberant stairwell, serves as the song’s defiant and unwavering backbone.
Schism – Tool
A master of complexity, Danny Carey navigates the song’s dizzying array of shifting time signatures with a tribal power and mathematical precision that is simply breathtaking.
Baba O’Riley – The Who
The untamable Keith Moon crashes and tumbles through this rock anthem, playing with a frenetic energy that threatens to send the song flying off the rails at any moment.
Dig Me Out – Sleater-Kinney
Janet Weiss is the roaring engine of this track, playing with a ferocious power, impeccable timing, and creative fills that drive the song forward relentlessly.
I Heard It Through the Grapevine – Gladys Knight & the Pips
Funk Brothers drummers Uriel Jones and the great Benny Benjamin create a powerhouse rhythm section, delivering a performance full of simmering tension and explosive release that punctuates the song’s raw emotion.
Dancin’ Fool – Frank Zappa
Terry Bozzio is the manic force behind this track, navigating Zappa’s absurd rhythmic twists and turns with an explosive combination of power, precision, and theatrical flair.
One Love/People Get Ready – Bob Marley & The Wailers
Carlton “Carly” Barrett, the originator of the “One Drop” rhythm, gives this song its iconic reggae heartbeat, where the accent is on the third beat of the measure.
Footprints – The Miles Davis Quintet
At just 20 years old, Tony Williams redefined jazz drumming with his explosive and interactive playing, shattering old conventions and pushing the entire band to new heights.
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Tunes Du Jour Presents The John Lennon Songbook
It’s interesting to start a playlist of John Lennon songs with David Bowie’s “Fame.” It feels like an outlier at first, until you remember Lennon co-wrote the track, contributed guitar, and sang backup vocals. It’s one of just a handful of songs on this list that isn’t a straightforward cover, and its placement at the top serves as a great reminder: one of the best ways to understand a songwriter’s impact is to see how their work thrives in the hands of others. Listening to a collection like this isn’t just about nostalgia; it’s an active exploration of how durable and adaptable Lennon’s compositions truly are, revealing the deep-seated melodic and lyrical strengths that invite constant reinterpretation.
The sheer variety of artists drawn to his work speaks volumes about its fundamental structure. A Lennon song can be a sturdy vessel for almost any style. In its original form, “Help!” was a desperate plea disguised as an upbeat folk-rock hit. But when Tina Turner gets ahold of it, she strips away the disguise, transforming it into a full-throated, soulful cry for salvation. Similarly, Johnny Cash takes “In My Life,” a song of youthful reflection, and imbues it with the profound weight of a long life lived, making each line land with a different, more somber gravity. From the raw R&B groove Otis Redding finds in “Day Tripper” to the cool, atmospheric poise Roxy Music brings to “Jealous Guy,” these songs prove to be exceptionally resilient, their core emotions accessible to any genre.
Beyond musical versatility, the playlist highlights the different facets of Lennon’s lyrical persona. There’s the acerbic political commentator, whose pointed dissatisfaction is channeled perfectly by the punk sneer of Generation X on “Gimme Some Truth” and the world-weary defiance of Marianne Faithfull on “Working Class Hero.” Then there is the deeply vulnerable Lennon, the man wrangling with insecurity and fame. You can hear this in the anxious, propulsive energy The Feelies bring to “Everybody’s Got Something To Hide (Except Me And My Monkey)” or the stark, pleading quality Maxïmo Park finds in the solo track “Isolation.” He could be pointedly political or achingly personal, and both modes have continued to resonate with artists who have their own truths to tell.
Of course, no look at Lennon’s work would be complete without touching on his more surreal and experimental side. These are often the songs that seem most tied to a specific time, yet they possess a dreamlike logic that continues to inspire. Elton John, a friend and collaborator, treats “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” not as a museum piece but as a glam-rock epic. R.E.M. leans into the hypnotic, floating quality of “#9 Dream,” while Fiona Apple’s take on “Across the Universe” honors its ethereal nature while grounding it with her distinctive emotional intensity. These artists don’t just copy the psychedelia; they find new ways to access the spirit of imaginative freedom that fueled the original recordings.
Ultimately, listening through these interpretations feels less like a tribute and more like a conversation across decades. We hear Billy J. Kramer’s simple pop charm on “Bad to Me,” a song Lennon wrote for him in 1963, and then Glen Campbell’s posthumous, heart-rending version of “Grow Old With Me,” one of Lennon’s last compositions. The journey between those two points is remarkable. This collection of songs, re-shaped by everyone from The Breeders to Bettye LaVette, demonstrates that the power of Lennon’s work isn’t just in his own iconic recordings. It’s in the bones of the songs themselves—the unforgettable melodies, the honest lyrics, and the restless spirit that others can’t help but be drawn to, again and again.
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Tunes Du Jour Presents 1965
Have you ever looked at a playlist from a single year and felt a sense of disbelief? It’s one thing for a year to produce a few memorable hits, but it’s another for it to feel like a highlight reel of music history. Looking at the charts from 1965 is exactly that kind of experience. It wasn’t just a year of good songs; it was a pivotal moment when popular music seemed to mature in several different directions at once, producing an astonishing collection of classics that still resonate today.
On one hand, 1965 saw the art of the immaculately produced pop song reach a new peak. The Motown machine was in full, glorious swing, giving us the suave romance of The Temptations’ “My Girl” and the intricate heartbreak of Smokey Robinson’s “The Tracks of My Tears.” The Supremes demanded attention with the dramatic plea of “Stop! In the Name of Love,” a perfect example of studio craftsmanship meeting raw emotion. Across the Atlantic, Petula Clark’s “Downtown” offered a sweeping, cinematic vision of city life. These weren’t just catchy tunes; they were impeccably arranged, powerfully sung, and emotionally direct pieces of art that defined a certain kind of pop perfection.
At the very same time, a grittier, more defiant sound was taking hold. The Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” wasn’t just a hit song; it was a statement of intent, built around a fuzzy, unforgettable guitar riff that sounded like pure frustration. This raw energy was a common thread. From the garage-rock howl of Them’s “Gloria” to the stuttering, youthful angst of The Who’s “I Can’t Explain,” rock music was shedding its cleaner-cut image. This wasn’t the polished sound of the studio; it was the restless sound of the rehearsal room, and it was connecting with an entire generation.
Beyond the evolving sounds, the lyrical substance of popular music was deepening profoundly. Bob Dylan completely rewrote the rules with “Like a Rolling Stone,” a six-minute epic of poetic scorn that proved a hit single could be complex, challenging, and literary. That same year, The Byrds took Dylan’s words and electrified them, creating a new genre overnight with their shimmering version of “Mr. Tambourine Man.” This new lyrical consciousness also carried immense social weight. Sam Cooke’s posthumously released “A Change Is Gonna Come” and The Impressions’ hopeful “People Get Ready” became enduring anthems of the Civil Rights Movement, demonstrating that music could be both a comfort and a powerful call for progress.
What makes 1965 so striking is that none of these developments happened in isolation. It was a year of convergence, where you could hear the sweet soul of Marvin Gaye’s “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)” on the radio right next to the birth of funk in James Brown’s “Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag.” The carefree optimism of The Beach Boys’ “California Girls” shared the airwaves with the deep, aching soul of Otis Redding’s “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long.” The sheer volume of landmark recordings from this single 12-month period is a testament to a unique moment in time—a year when the boundaries of pop music were expanding in every direction, leaving us with a collection of songs that feel less like relics and more like foundation stones.
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Tunes Du Jour Presents 1963
If you could travel back in time and turn on a car radio in 1963, what would you hear? It was a year poised on the brink of profound change, both culturally and musically. Listening to the pop charts from that year is like opening a time capsule of a specific American moment, one just before the British Invasion, led by The Beatles, would arrive on our shores in January 1964 and rearrange the entire landscape. Using a playlist of the year’s biggest hits, we can get a clear picture of the sounds that defined the last year of this particular pop era.
Two major sounds seemed to rule the airwaves, both born from a distinctly American, youthful energy. From the West Coast came the sun-drenched anthems of surf rock. The Beach Boys offered a national invitation with “Surfin’ U.S.A.,” while their friendly rivals Jan & Dean created the idyllic “Surf City.” This wasn’t just a vocal trend; the raw, driving energy of instrumental hits like The Surfaris’ “Wipe Out” and The Chantays’ “Pipeline” provided a visceral, drum-and-guitar-heavy soundtrack for a generation. Complementing this was the sound of the girl groups, often channeling teenage drama through the ambitious production of Phil Spector’s “Wall of Sound” on tracks like The Ronettes’ “Be My Baby” and The Crystals’ “Da Doo Ron Ron.” From the defiant fun of Lesley Gore’s “It’s My Party” to the tough-girl stance of The Angels’ “My Boyfriend’s Back,” these songs were miniature soap operas set to a 4/4 beat.
At the same time, a different kind of sound was solidifying its place at the heart of American music, broadcasting from Detroit and other soul music hubs. Motown was hitting its stride, producing hits that were both commercially successful and artistically sophisticated. You could feel the undeniable energy of Martha Reeves & The Vandellas on “(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave” or get lost in the smooth, clever plea of Smokey Robinson & the Miracles’ “You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me.” A teenage prodigy named Stevie Wonder even captured the explosive energy of his live performances on “Fingertips, Pts. 1 & 2.” It wasn’t just Motown, either. The soulful storytelling of groups like The Drifters on “Up on the Roof” and the raw, emotional performance of Garnet Mimms on “Cry Baby” showed the depth and variety within R&B and soul music.
Beyond these dominant movements, the Top 40 of 1963 was remarkably eclectic. The folk revival crashed onto the pop charts with Peter, Paul and Mary’s earnest version of Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ In The Wind,” introducing a new layer of social consciousness to mainstream radio. Unclassifiable artists with singular visions also found massive success. Roy Orbison’s haunting, operatic ballad “In Dreams” and Johnny Cash’s iconic, mariachi-inflected “Ring of Fire” were worlds unto themselves. The charts even made room for the wonderfully unexpected: Kyu Sakamoto’s “Sukiyaki,” a beautiful Japanese-language ballad that became a number-one hit, and “Dominique” by The Singing Nun, also a number-one hit, proved that a great melody could transcend any language barrier. And in a class all its own was the wonderfully raw and raucous “Louie, Louie” by The Kingsmen, a garage-rock precursor that parents hated and kids loved.
Looking back, the collection of hits from 1963 represents a high point for a certain kind of American-made pop music. It was a world of surf guitars, dramatic girl-group harmonies, sophisticated soul, and a surprising number of unique one-offs. Every song on the radio, from Andy Williams’ smooth crooning to the gritty simplicity of “Louie, Louie,” was part of the same popular conversation. It was a vibrant and diverse scene, but one operating on its own terms. It had no idea that four young men from Liverpool were about to board a plane, bringing with them a sound that would change the rules for everyone.
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Tunes Du Jour Presents The Paul McCartney Songbook
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.
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Tunes Du Jour Presents 1966
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.
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