Tomorrow Never Knows – The Beatles
The drum does not swing.
What if Kraftwerk had sung only in English from day one?
Remove the German grain from Kraftwerk's early voice and the Autobahn suddenly sounds like a brochure written for tourists.
Paranoid – Black Sabbath
The riff is so plain it feels like a taunt: three chords, a downhill run, no atmosphere to hide in.
Unfinished Sympathy – Massive Attack
A breakbeat keeps a small, dry confidence, and over it a voice starts in the middle of a thought, as if the singer had been mumbling in a corner and someone finally turned the fader up.
Vienna – Ultravox
A drum machine marks a European dusk, sparse and formal, and Midge Ure's voice arrives with one line already finished, as if the rest of the song had to catch up with a sentence he could not lose.
Round Midnight
Dale Turner speaks slowly, as if the next sentence had to walk across a room before it could be said.
Everybody Wants to Rule the World – Tears for Fears
Two bright chords on an acoustic guitar, a shuffle that should belong to a lighter band, and Curt Smith's voice comes in as if the sunshine were a cover for a colder sentence.
It’s Too Late – Carole King
The electric piano sets a calm pulse, almost cheerful, and Carole King's voice comes in from bed, staying in all morning just to pass the time, already past the argument.