Counter-Culture: The Top 100 Songs of the ’60s

80. Francoise Hardy – “Le Temps de L’amour”
from Francoise Hardy (1962; Vogue)

Known as the “Yeh-Yeh Girl From Paris,” Hardy cooed transfixing French pop gems, delivering the epitome of ’60s cool. From her 1962 self-titled debut, “Le Temps de l’amour” is an entrancing look into the brief “yé-yé” movement. Out of the 12 track debut, ten of the tracks were written by Hardy, but it is notable that the lyrics of “Le Temps de l’amour” were a creation between Lucien Morisse, André Salvet and Jacques Dutronc. With a tingly guitar riff and Hardy’s elusive vocal style, it is no wonder the track became such a prominent gem in Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom. – VC

79. Terry Riley – “A Rainbow in Curved Air”
from A Rainbow in Curved Air (1968; Columbia)

Minimalism has few hits, per se, but if you want to look at it that way, Terry Riley’s “A Rainbow in Curved Air” is somewhere in the top three or so. A composition that sounds essentially like a sonic translation of its title phrase, “Rainbow” is vibrant and multi-colored. It’s utterly joyful music, whether you’re a student of Hindustani classical music or improvisation, or simply soak in the vibrations without a reference point. But perhaps it’s best to look at it through the lens of the rest of the 20th Century. Krautrock, IDM, ambient and various forms of psychedelic music branch out from the bands of color that emanate from “A Rainbow in Curved Air,” its psychedelic energy seemingly a miraculous organism that gave life to a thousand forms of other music. And that includes the synth-driven buoyancy of The Who’s “Baba O’Riley,” which was named in tribute to the man himself. – JT

78. Brute Force – “King of Fuh”
(1968; Apple)

Professional songwriter and former Token Stephen Friedland worked the flat-out odd side under his solo name Brute Force—sort of like Frank Zappa with more pop and without the agenda. His single-joke anthem “King of Fuh” (technially NSFW) worked as both a double-entendre dare to radio programmers and a send-up of the good-vibes generation of its time. EMI refused to release the single, but George Harrison and John Lennon were so taken with “King of Fuh” that they pressed 1,000 copies on their Apple label. It still didn’t fly, but Time The Validator sustained the tale of the Fuh King as a cult fairytale of the highest/lowest order. – PP

77. Willie Bobo – “Fried Neckbones and Some Home Fries”
from Uno Dos Tres 1-2-3 (1966; Verve)

Boogaloo’s moment—and it went almost as quickly as it came—started shortly before Mongo Santamaria’s “Watermelon Man” became a hit and hit its peak when Joe Cuba Sextet’s “Bang Bang” sold over a million copies in 1966. U.S. audiences had already been won over by mambo and Latin jazz, and the growing popularity of soul and R&B, fused with Cuban and Puerto Rican rhythms, gave rise to a uniquely American form of Latin pop. “Fried Neckbones and Some Home Fries,” the only original composition on Willie Bob’s Uno Dos Tres 1-2-3, wasn’t as big a hit as Santamaria or Cuba’s, but it’s easily the coolest song in the boogaloo canon, a psychedelic hip-swinger with hypnotic recitations of the title that seem almost subversive. It’s a hallucinatory, brassy bossa nova, and while we’re on the subject, not too shabby of a snack, either. – JT

76. John Lee Hooker – “Motor City is Burning”
from Urban Blues (1968; Bluesway)

Attorney General under Lyndon Johnson, Ramsey Clarke once said “there are few activities that are more local [than law enforcement]”, and Johnson was always exasperating over his Great Society notions never eventuating to anything. Maybe that word “local” can help explain why. It shelters cops by containing their motivations to their alibis and overlooks entirely law enforcement as an aggregate system of imperialism that precludes Federal reformations to propositional face-saving. In race riots the cops fomented white power by availing Joe Schlub white fuckers that racism was well-intentioned toward their safety. In Detroit from July 23 to 27, 1967 John Lee Hooker saw this as the Clairmount riot spread and engulfed his city. He eventually sang it was “worster than Vietnam.” Vietnam was an example of capitalistic solipsists trying to destroy cultures and make the world exclusive to them. Instituted racism had done and was continuing to do same thing in America. – BJ

75. Pharoah Sanders – “The Creator Has a Master Plan”
from Karma (1969; Impulse)

The mutations that jazz music went through during the 1960s are too complex to summarize, but one of the new trends that emerged as the decade came to its tumultuous conclusion was spiritual jazz. Pioneered by the likes of Alice Coltrane and Archie Shepp, it featured an introspective, psychologically self-analytical approach to composition, and took interest in an eclectic array of religious and spiritual traditions, particularly those of Indian and African heritage.

Pharoah Sanders was a veteran of John Coltrane’s bands, and by 1969 was an experienced band leader in his own right. His album Karma was the pinnacle of his solo career, and this track takes up 32 of the album’s 37-minute runtime. Often considered as a spiritual sequel to Coltrane’s A Love Supreme, it features the quasi-gospel vocals of Leon Thomas and a number of heavyweight supporting players, it somehow managed to find enough crossover appeal to achieve a reasonable amount of FM radio airplay at the time. It is a mind-bending, defiant, affirming recording. – MP

74. Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band – “Moonlight on Vermont”
from Trout Mask Replica (1969; Straight)

Listening to Trout Mask Replica is a disorienting experience for a first timer. Or a second timer. You know what? It’s just disorienting period. Don Van Vliet’s band of fucked-up blues rockers followed rhythmic muses that most of us could only hope to make sense of. The irony is that Van Vliet had strict rules about drug use in the band: Namely, when you’re playing, don’t. That makes the radical seemingly free-form arrangements all the more amazing, though their more tuneful structured moments are almost as disorienting. “Moonlight on Vermont” is one of the few tracks that approach rock anthem, twisted barb-wire guitars doing battle with Beefheart himself barking “Gimme that old time religion!” until the polyrhythmic structure nearly collapses on itself. Just imagine how it might sound if drugs actually were involved. – JT

73. The Crazy World of Arthur Brown – “Fire”
from The Crazy World of Arthur Brown (1968; Polydor)

No doubt this English psychedelic rock project wanted you to believe this nihilistic track was written and sung by Satan himself. Brown’s signature facepaint, flaming helmet, and opening lines—”I am the god of hellfire/And I bring you/Fire!”—manufactured over-the-top creepiness in the same vein as Screaming Jay Hawkins and Alice Cooper, with just as much lasting influence. Brown’s first, best, and only success inspired so many hard rockers’ costumed stage presence, and became a go-to sample source for industrial and other electronic musics. That’s a lot of derivation, but if you’re looking for innovation, well, who knew a freaking Hammond organ could be so metal? – AB

72. Standells – “Dirty Water”
from Dirty Water (1966; Tower)

There is immense irony in “Dirty Water” being an unofficial anthem of the Boston Red Sox, because it was recorded by a California proto-punk band and written by a producer who considered Boston a disgusting place after being mugged there. (Speaking for the city: Well, yeah, but it’s our disgusting place.) Whatever the song’s intentions, it’s a fiery rocker that anticipates the rise of The Stooges and Ramones, and even outside of the city, people go nuts when they that iconic seven-note intro if you play that at the right time. The Standells also had much more to offer than their best-known hit: “Riot On Sunset Strip,” “Medication” and “Sitting There Standing” hit every bit as hard, if not harder, than “Dirty Water.” – LG

71. Coven – “Wicked Woman”
from Witchcraft Destroys Minds and Reaps Souls (1969; Mercury)

Three years after Anton Lavey founded the Church of Satan, this proto-metal band released the influential Witchcraft Destroys Minds and Reaps Souls album. With more unrepentant occult imagery than Black Sabbath, their lyrics in this song ventured down the left hand path less travelled as interest in Satanism began to gain steam on the fringes of the counterculture. Band’s ranging from Mercyful Fate to The Devil’s Blood took obvious influence from this band, who led the parade out of the broom closet during at time when such was unheard of. – WL