The Playlist: September 2007

1. “Grapefruit Moon,” Tom Waits. I’ve been slowly exposed to the bulk of Tom Waits’s debut album, the more than thirty-year-old “Closing Time,” and you know what? I’d be hard-pressed not to consider it one of the greatest albums of all time, seriously. “Grapefruit Moon” is one of the overlooked tracks on this album, and is early-career Waits at his finest – it’s some straightforward crooning from the quirky-voiced balladeer. Give it a download. It’ll melt your heart, in the best way possible.

2. “Let My Love Open The Door (E-Cola Mix),” Pete Townshend. Normally, this solo single from Townshend functions as an upbeat pop classic; this remix, found on the soundtrack to the highly underrated John Cusack movie “Grosse Pointe Blank,” turns the uptempo gem into something else entirely. In this mix (apparently created by Townshend himself), the song turns into a sweeping, epic ballad with electronic textures. It fits, magnificently.

3. “Put It On Me,” Ben Harper And The Innocent Criminals. In this digital age, Harper and his band took a risk by recording an entire album live to analog recording. This track is one from that disc; it rattles and hums beautifully, an elegant bastard of gospel and rock and roll that would make Sly Stone proud.

4. “Camera,” R.E.M. This mournful tune from R.E.M.’s second album, released at the end of Ronald Reagan’s first term, may be one of the greatest ballads the band’s created. It’s the sound of a band that’s almost – but not quite – found their voice; Michael Stipe has yet to grow into the tenor voice that defined later hits, and rather than stride to the emotional heights of later tracks, the music takes a definitive turn inwardly. The resulting song doesn’t achieve the universal mournfulness of a track like “Everybody Hurts,” instead it becomes incredibly specific and note-perfect. Goosebump-inducing.

5. “Anna Begins,” Counting Crows. This month, the Counting Crows have re-released their landmark album “August and Everything After.” Years later, this track still stands out – emotional, powerful, and absolutely resonant. It’s easy to be annoyed with singer Adam Duritz and his pretenses, both in fashion and voice; however, tracks like this – exacting and delicate – may turn out to be among the most influential from the 1990s.