Welcome to The 101 Best Songs of the Aughts: #80-61.

For the rest of the countdown, just go here.

I’m looking forward to your thoughts on this segment!

80. “Hallelujah in the City” by Joan Osborne (2008)

Remember Joan Osborne? Her hit song “One of Us” is gimmicky and twee, and it bears no resemblance to her typical menu of blues, rock, and soul. Therefore, her 1995 album Relish was a disappointment to anyone hoping to hear more cute musings about the Almighty, and that disappointment spelled the end of her commercial viability.

But that didn’t stop Osborne from releasing several great tracks, including this song from 2008′s Little Wild One. Co-written with Eric Bazilian and Rick Chertoff, the very gents who foisted “One of Us” on the world, “Hallelujah in the City” praises New York with crashing drums, gospel spirit, and some damn fine vocals. Best of all, it doesn’t crescendo into a choirs-and-tambourines shouting festival,which is what I expected the first time I heard it. Instead, Osborne stays restrained. It’s like she’s so moved by her thoughts that she wants to keep some for herself, and that creates an alluring sense of mystery.

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79. “Ignition (Remix)” by R. Kelly (2003)

I will always associate R. Kelly with child pornography. He has been cleared of all charges, so good for him, but I still say that if he had even been accused of having sex with underage boys, then he would never have been heard from again. His unflagging commercial success in the face of his ordeal suggests some very icky things about our culture. Or maybe it suggests that the court of public opinion occasionally reserves judgment until all the facts are in evidence. I personally believe it’s the former, but hey… that’s a subject for another essay.

For now, let me acknowledge that “Ignition,” released in the middle of the sex tape scandal, gives me everything I need in a slow jam. Hummable chorus? Check. Singalong lyrics about sippin’ on Coke and rum? Check. Occasional commands for me to bounce-bounce-bounce, which takes the aggravating guesswork out of dancing? Check.

After years of trying to resist this song, I finally downloaded it a few months ago. But so what? I’m drunk.

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78. “In the Shadows” by The Rasmus (2003)

It was a tough call, but I’ve decided The Rasmus are my favorite Finnish rock band. Oh, okay… they’re the only Finnish rock band I know, but even if I did know others, I bet they’d still be my favorite!

Exhibit A: “In the Shadows” has been in my gym mix for six years, and I still want to pump my fist in Rocky-like glory every time it comes on. When that “oh-oh-UH-oh” business kicks in, I am the master of every treadmill I see. That’s great, since when I’m out of breath, I need a song that relies on primal sounds instead of stupid words, you know? That make it so much easier to sing grunt along!

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77. “Who We Be” by DMX (2001)

Before announcing his decision to preach (!), DMX did aggression as well as the pit bulls in his music videos. On “Who We Be,” he directs his menace toward social ills instead of the fools who get in his way, and the result is a bracing anthem for anyone who refuses to let circumstances hold them down.

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76. “The Fixer” by Pearl Jam (2009)

I’ve already written about how much I like this decade-closing hit from Pearl Jam and how it resurrected my interest in their music.  I still feel that way.

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75. “Hurricane” by Mindy Smith (2004)

Mindy Smith first got attention with a cover of “Jolene” that impressed Dolly Parton so much she agreed to sing backing vocals. ‘Nuff said, right?

Smith has lived up to that promise with three albums of dark and spiritual Appalachian music. Because she rejects sunshine platitudes about faith and love, and chooses instead to acknowledge how hard life can be, even when it’s going well, her music creates a fascinating contrast to her honey-sweet voice.

Of her many excellent songs, I find “Hurricane,” about the aftermath of a broken heart, the most haunting.

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74. “SexyBack” by Justin Timberlake featuring Timbaland (2006)

Hats off to Mr. Timberlake, ladies and gentleman. From humble boy band roots, he has become a strong contender for entertainer of the decade. The genuinely funny SNL appearances! The killer guest spots on all those great singles! The dance moves! The fact that he seems like a genuinely nice guy! Who else gives us all those perks in one stubble-faced package?

Plus, when he decides to sing lead, J.T. cranks out monster jams. “SexyBack” is his Godzilla: It not only launched a string of hits with Timbaland, but also dropped “___ is bringing sexy back!” into the global lexicon. As in “Diane Pelosi’s bringing sexy back!” or “This Wednesday at 9:00 PM, Kate and Sawyer are bringing sexy back!” We’d be poorer without that catchphrase in our lives.

p.s. — The clip I’ve embedded features “SexyBack” playing over sex scenes from One Tree Hill. You’re welcome.

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73. “Closer” by Ne-Yo (2008)

He’s certainly popular, but Ne-Yo should be bigger than he is. He’s a talented songwriter, a pop star who can actually sing, and a connoisseur of old and new school grooves.

You may remember that last year I started a campaign to make Ne-Yo’s amazing single “Closer” a bigger hit. It eventually reached #7 on the Billboard Hot 100, so I’d say the plan worked. Good job, everyone!

We backed a worthy song, too. Structurally complex, with all those bridges and choruses and chorus intros, and layered with interesting sounds, it’s the rare recent R&B song that reveals something new on the third listen.

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72. “Royal Flush” by Big Boi featuring Andre 3000 and Raekwon (2008)

This hip-hop opus from Outkast’s Big Boi was one of the first songs I wrote about on The Critical Condition. Take a look at this essay to see why I still can’t get enough.

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71. “I Predict a Riot” by The Kaiser Chiefs (2005)

Kaiser Chiefs arrived in the mid-decade New Wave revival that also included Franz Ferdinand and Arctic Monkeys, and I’ll confess that I can’t always tell those bands apart. This song, however, breaks through the haze with its especially hooky chorus (“I predict a rye-uht!”), ominous lyrics about street crime, and interesting harmonies.

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70. “We Belong Together” by Mariah Carey (2005)

Forget the emotional breakdowns and the tragically terrible singing at Obama’s inauguration: “We Belong Together” will redeem Mariah Carey for at least another five years.

For one thing, the lyrics are amazing. I’ve always felt like Carey understands how ridiculous it is to say “wait a minute, this is too deep” after she hears a Bobby Womack song on the radio. I think she’s reveling in her emotional hysterics, just like she’s reveling in the internal rhyme of the phrase “throwin’ things/cryin’/tryin’ figure out where the hell I went/wrong.”

Add those words to Carey’s hypnotic, stop-and-start phrasing and you get a jewel of a single.

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69. “Oxford Comma” by Vampire Weekend (2008)

You’ve got to love a band that’s influenced by Peter Gabriel and the Africa-lite albums of Paul Simon: That’s just so agreeably dorky! Well, it’s “agreeable” because Vampire Weekend is a really good band.

“Oxford Comma” has a tossed-off feeling—the guitar solo is more like a doodle, and there’s an organ in there for no apparent reason—and that fits the lyrical theme of not caring about stuff that upsets other people. It also creates an insta-pick for your next bonfire or casual hang-out session.

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68. “All This Time Still Falling Out of Love” by Erasure (2005)

Everything that made Erasure great in the 80s and early 90s is overflowing from “All This Time Still Falling Out of Love,” which was part of their U.K. comeback album Nightbird. Andy Bell’s vocals are still exceptional (he’s one of pop’s best male singers), and they give a richly emotional dimension to Vince Clarke’s peppy keyboards and synths.

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67. “Things Are What You Make of Them” by Bishop Allen (2003)

Bishop Allen is one of thousands of indie bands from Brooklyn, and like Matt & Kim, they always seem to be having a good time. They’ve spread their infectious joy over several solid albums, all of which veer from love songs to “I’m a dork” songs in a blink. I’ve chosen “Things Are What You Make of Them” to represent their sound because it’s the first Bishop Allen tune I heard, and it made me fall for them right away. I especially appreciate the lyrical cameo from Jesus, who tells the narrator that his dopey romantic problems don’t have to be so overwhelming.

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66. “California” by Rufus Wainwright (2001)

Count on Rufus Wainwright’s poppiest song to be about how much he hates California. That’s just his style—using a sunny sound to curse the sun—and that’s just one of the reasons I love him.

Another is his voice, of course, which is in fine form here, and the fact that he is able to turn his pissy bitching into something so melodic. And really, we’ve all woken up on a beautiful day and thought, “Screw it, I’m watching television.” It’s nice that Rufus wrote an anthem for our sloth.

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65. “Cheated Hearts” by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

I don’t always get the Yeah Yeahs Yeahs. Unlike the rest of the universe, for instance, I don’t think “Maps” is all that great. For me, it just kind of sits there, asking too much of its half-finished hook.

But “Cheated Hearts?” Yes, please. There are six hooks at once in this song, and the music just grows and grows until it swallows us in a rock-out frenzy. Clearly, we should never underestimate the power of short phrases repeated multiple times. They invite shout-alongs and rabbit-hop dancing, and that’s an invitation we can always accept.

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64. “The End of Medicine” by The New Pornographers (2003)

Speaking of short phrases frequently repeated, how about the chorus in “The End of Medicine?” I love singing “are we, are we, are we, are we FACING,” and beyond that, I love how often the chorus gets followed by a beat that drops out and comes back.

Because it wraps those pop tropes in a wild package of guitars and drums and melodion, “The End of Medicine” is both a comfort and a surprise. That’s why it’s my favorite song on The New Pornographers’ Electric Version, which is one of my favorite albums of the decade.

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63. The “Jesus of Suburbia” suite by Green Day (2004)

I’ve already written about how the American Idiot album changed my perspective on Green Day. This song (or really, this collection of five short songs) sums up why. It’s refreshing to see a well-established band challenge itself by writing a song suite, much less a suite that questions American apathy. As an added bonus, each mini-tune grabs me in a different way, but they all grab me with equal force.

(p.s. — Check out the live video I embedded. The band gives a great performance.)

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62. “I Will Follow You Into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie (2005)

It’s kind of morbid, I guess, to sing about your beloved’s inevitable death, and how you’ll stay with them forever, even if they end up in eternal limbo. But there’s something about “I Will Follow You Into the Dark”—Ben Gibbard’s vulnerable, intelligent lyrics; the simple loveliness of the melody—that makes it more tender than depressing. There really are moments when love feels like nothing more than wanting to die for someone, and as this song suggests, those moments can be lovely.

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61. “Me and Emily” by Rachel Proctor (2004)

I’m still angry this song peaked at a lowly number eighteen on the country charts. Don’t radio programmers know quality when they hear it? Was no one fighting for what’s right in 2004?

Ahem. See, “Me and Emily” is brilliant. For one thing, it doesn’t have a lyrical chorus. Yes, there’s a musical passage that repeats after every verse, but the words are different every time, and that enhances our understanding of the song’s narrator. She’s driving away from her husband with her baby girl sleeping in the passenger seat, you see, and she’s talking to herself about all the reasons she’s leaving. During the verses, when the music is sedate, she’s at a low level of emotion, but when she hits the choruses, when the music swells, she articulates her deepest fears and dreams. Of course there are drums behind her when she realizes that her little girl will need to know why she doesn’t have a daddy. Of course that’s when the music returns to its most passionate theme.

And of course the bridge—when she finally admits that she left her husband because he abused her—is the boldest moment of all, heaping extra instruments on the pile and speeding up the tempo. That theme doesn’t repeat until the last moment, when the narrator finally fills with hope that everything will be okay, meaning her last huge emotion is positive instead of negative. Then in the outro, we return to the musical simplicity of the verse. The narrator’s feelings are under control again, but she’s more peaceful than she was before.

And with that, singer-songwriter Rachel Proctor gives us an epic in under four minutes.

Plus, she delivers detailed lyrics that paint a picture of this woman’s mind. When big rigs throw rain on her window, for instance, she feels like they’re laughing at her. That one line tells us tons about her mental state, and that’s just one of many evocative lines we hear.

So anyway, I’ve got Rachel Proctor’s back. If it had been up to me, “Me and Emily” would have been number one for a year.