MOG

1. Patti Smith, "Ask the Angels." Lots of New York Punk on this list, each track different. Patti was the poet laureate, a great live performer, and a bit crazy. Her band was learning how to play, and in their case, the move was useful.

2. Ramones, "Judy Is a Punk." Speaking of learning how to play, the video link here is astounding.

3. Joan Armatrading, "Love and Affection." The Ramones pretended to never grow up. Joan Armatrading never sounded like anything BUT a grownup.

4. David Bowie, "Stay." This is arguably my favorite Bowie track, and with due respect to the man and his many fans, he has pretty much nothing to do with why I like it ... in fact, the mannered vocals are my least-favorite part of the song. Terrific funk, great guitar ... for that, I can live with the part in the middle that constitutes the actual song. This isn't meant as a rip on Bowie ... I like a lot of his work, and usually he's the reason. But here, it's all about the insistent danceable background.

5. Thin Lizzy, "The Boys Are Back in Town." Punk hadn't completely taken over rock and roll. It was hard to find anyone who didn't like this anthemic song with the twin guitars.

6. Graham Parker and the Rumour, "Don't Ask Me Questions." The most amazingly bitter anti-God rant this side of Randy Newman's "God's Song." Parker sees a world where people leave behind crimson autographs as they leap over the cliffs like lemmings. And he sees a God who seems to approve. But he's not done ... in the chorus, he gets in God's face: hey lord, don't ask me questions. It's easy for atheists to diss God ... they don't believe in him to begin with. It's the Graham Parkers of the world who do the real dirty work: God is real, and Parker is pissed about it.

7. Blue Öyster Cult, "Don't Fear the Reaper." Was there ever any doubt which video I'd include for this one? Or which one would get the featured spot atop the list?

8. Blondie, "X Offender." I liked the Blondie of Parallel Lines as much as the next guy, but there's a charm to their debut album that was mostly gone by the time they hit it big. I only wish shuffle play had coughed up "The Attack of the Giant Ants."

9. Dr. Buzzard's Original Savannah Band, "Cherchez La Femme/Se Si Bon." Delightful rhythms that were un-disco enough to catch your attention, a fine singer in Cory Daye, and an interestingly retro stage presence ... seems at least as likeable to me as Thin Lizzy. But they never really made it. Christgau got at the odd melange: "I hated this the first time I played it, which turned out to mean that I had encountered a clear, uncompromising and dangerously seductive expression of a vision of life that was foreign to me." He gave the album a grade of "A".

10. The Modern Lovers, "Roadrunner." This version was recorded some years earlier, released in 1976. Jonathan Richman based the music on "Sister Ray," but it's "Sister Ray" as sung by someone who finds joy in Route 128 with the radio on, rather than someone who couldn't hit their mainline, sideways. The seemingly universal appeal of the song is captured in a terrific essay from last summer by English writer Laura Barton, "The car, the radio, the night - and rock's most thrilling song," in which Barton travels to New England and drives Route 128, looking for landmarks from "Roadrunner." Remember: one two three four five six!

And a bonus. The only time I saw Randy Newman live was at the end of May in 1976. Here's a track from a show he did a few weeks before that: