This week In ‘2000s Throwback’ 02/52

1 . Mary J. Blige . Family Affair

Mary J. Blige’s “Family Affair,” released in 2001, is less of a song and more of a cultural manifesto for a night out without drama. A confident stride into the crossover territory of R&B and hip-hop, the track commanded six weeks atop the Billboard Hot 100, partly fueled by Dr. Dre’s characteristically polished production and a groove that doesn’t ask for your attention—it seizes it.

Blige’s vocal delivery strikes a delicate balance between commanding and carefree, breathing life into lyrics that famously introduced the word “hateration” to pop culture, an invention both ridiculous and brilliant. If there’s philosophical depth here, it’s buried beneath a thick layer of bass and celebratory defiance, dismissing negativity with the flick of a lyrical wrist.

The accompanying nightclub-set video, helmed by Dave Meyers, mirrors the track’s uninhibited vibe with glamorous choreography and aspirational indulgence.

Lifted from : Happy Birthday Mary . Blige. ‘Much Obliged’

2 . Donald Fagen . New Frontier

Released in the cultural afterglow of Steely Dan’s hiatus, Donald Fagen’s “New Frontier” is a jazzy earworm steeped in retro-futuristic curiosity.

It emerges from the sleek, digital surfaces of 1982, woven into *The Nightfly*, a concept album that acts like a love letter to Cold War-era anxieties and naïve optimism.

The track itself? A smooth blend of jazz-pop and funk, driven by Fagen’s tightly woven horn arrangements and conversational vocals, balancing nostalgia against a knowing wink.

The lyrical intrigue lies in its peculiar setting—a fallout shelter-turned-makeshift-romance den during the looming threat of nuclear war.

Its protagonist, armed with a “Sterno and a Coleman lantern,” spins a mix of youthful confidence and romantic clumsiness, offset by an ironic nod to 1960s consumer ideals of techno-utopia.

The accompanying video, with its mix of animation and live-action, amplifies the absurd charm, conjuring up suburban dreams amid apocalyptic dread.

Commercially, it charted modestly, but staying power was never the point here; its quirks cemented it as a cult favorite.

Lifted from : Happy Birthday Donald Fagen. ‘The Voice Fagen’

3 . Vampire Weekend . Horchata

“Horchata,” a track from Vampire Weekend’s sophomore album *Contra* (2009), is as whimsical as the rice-and-tigernut drink it takes its name from.

Produced by Rostam Batmanglij under the XL Recordings label, the song evokes a breezy kind of nostalgia paired with the band’s signature indie pop and Afrobeat-inspired tendencies.

Its quirky instrumentation—where marimbas and layered percussive elements dominate—pairs seamlessly with Ezra Koenig’s delicate vocal delivery, dripping with effortless charm and self-aware humor.

Though it never quite cracked mainstream playlists, peaking at #2 on Billboard’s Bubbling Under Hot 100 Singles and charting modestly across Belgium, Australia, and Canada, the track quietly found its place in college dorms and alt music sets.

Released as a free download to much internet buzz, it thrives in seasonal ambiguity—”the summer warmth left over in your winter coat” perfectly fitting the song’s lyrical wit.

Lifted from : XL Recordings publish Vampire Weekend’s second album . ‘Contra’ (2010)

4 . Beck . Devils Haircut

Released in late 1996, Beck’s “Devils Haircut” arrived with a defiant snarl, embodying the restless, sample-laden ethos of the album *Odelay*.

Commercially, it carved out modest success, peaking at #94 on the US Billboard Hot 100 and finding a more comfortable home at #23 on Billboard’s Modern Rock Tracks and #22 on the UK Singles Chart.

Produced in part by Beck himself alongside sonic provocateurs The Dust Brothers, the track is an intricate patchwork of borrowed grooves, most notably snippets from Pretty Purdie’s “Soul Drums” and Them’s rip-roaring “I Can Only Give You Everything.”

Its genre label feels almost irrelevant, with Beck mashing together alternative rock, funk, and hip hop in a way that sidesteps tradition.

The lyrics, cryptic and cutting, offer a sideways critique of vanity and the chaos of modernity, delivered with Beck’s trademark half-sneer, half-slur vocal style.

Visually, the Mark Romanek-directed music video places Beck in New York City’s fragmented sprawl, sauntering past aircraft carriers and amusement parks, boombox in hand, a disheveled prophet wandering amidst the urban decay.

By 1996 standards, it was cheeky, abrasive, and undeniably fresh—earning accolades like Melody Maker’s #6 Single of the Year and a spot in Q Magazine’s “1001 Best Songs Ever” in 2003.

Lifted from : Beck ‘rocks in Rio’ (2001)

5 . Sting . For A Better World

Sting’s body of work often leans into themes of universal empathy and global consciousness, but “For A Better World” isn’t an official track in his discography. That said, its thematic essence is easily traceable across several of his compositions, particularly “Russians,” a stark meditation on Cold War tensions from the 1985 album *The Dream of the Blue Turtles*.

“Russians” is woven around the haunting melody of Prokofiev’s *Lieutenant Kijé Suite* and is as much an anti-war ballad as it is a critique of mutually assured destruction. It achieved notable chart success, breaking into the top 20 in the UK and the US, propelled by Sting’s then-nascent solo career and its stark political urgency.

The instrumentation is stripped of the Police-era angularity, embracing orchestral elements, a deliberate rhythm, and Sting’s introspection. While moments of hope are teased, the mood teeters on despair—a sharp edge softened by his plaintive delivery.

Though the song’s legacy is tied to its temporal context, its broader yearning for peace keeps it eerily relevant today. Perhaps it’s this universality that inspired his performances at events like Rock in Rio 2001, where the concert’s overriding slogan—“For a Better World”—echoed many of Sting’s ongoing humanitarian and environmental commitments.

Lifted from : Sting rocks in Rio (2001)

6 . Foo Fighters . Best of You

Released in 2005 as part of the *In Your Honor* album, Foo Fighters’ “Best of You” operates like a raw nerve laid bare, pulsing with all the angst of a generation trying to wrench itself free from stifling constraints.

The track clawed its way to number 18 on the Billboard Hot 100 in the U.S., but its grip was tighter on the rock charts, dominating Billboard’s Hot Mainstream Rock Tracks for four weeks and the Hot Modern Rock Tracks for seven.

It resonated just as wildly overseas, claiming spots among the top five in the UK and Australia.

Despite the song’s structural simplicity, the emotional complexity is relentless, as Dave Grohl delivers a volcanic vocal performance crafted during a personal low point—one rehearsed so intensely that it nearly cost him his throat.

Thematically, “Best of You” is a primal scream against exploitation and emotional confinement, a cathartic roar that proves as much about resilience as it is rage.

Mark Pellington’s stark video amplifies the track’s emotional gravity, juxtaposing the grungy isolation of the abandoned Linda Vista Community Hospital with frenetic montages of anguish and defiance.

The song nearly didn’t see the light of day, almost abandoned until Foo Fighters’ manager, John Silva, recognized its potential and demanded its resurrection.

This decision paid off handsomely, earning the track a Kerrang Award for Best Single and a Grammy nomination for Best Rock Song—a rare feat for a piece born from creative exasperation.

Performed live at Studio 8H during *Saturday Night Live*, its raw power translated effortlessly to the stage, further cementing its place in the band’s catalog as a monumental anthem of emotional upheaval.

Though often lumped into the alternative rock/post-grunge label, “Best of You” feels less like a product of its genre and more like an eruption—its sonic DNA borrowing equally from unpolished rock grit and stadium-sized emotional crescendos.

Lifted from : As we wish Dave Grohl . Happy Birthday, the day is perfect for . ‘Foo Fighters At Their Bests’ post

7 . Rod Stewart . These Foolish Things

Rod Stewart’s rendition of “These Foolish Things” feels like a time machine outfitted with a faint cloud of cigarette smoke and the slow swirl of a jazz bar spotlight.

Originally penned in 1935 by Eric Maschwitz and Jack Strachey, the song has weathered decades of interpretations, but in Stewart’s hands, it’s less smoky nightclub and more polished nostalgia, as if the ‘30s had a velvet filter slapped over it.

Anchoring this track is the voice—gravelly yet oddly elegant—proof that Stewart, by 2003, had become something of a curator of the American songbook rather than a rock star chasing trends.

The production, helmed by Richard Perry, wraps Stewart’s voice in glossy arrangements, making it clear this wasn’t about breaking new ground but repackaging classics for a contemporary audience hungry for warmth and familiarity.

While it peaked respectably at #13 on the US Adult Contemporary chart, it’s hard to shake the feeling that Perry’s orchestration aimed for grandeur but occasionally veered too close to syrupy territory.

The lyrics reminisce on the everyday objects and moments tied to lost love—a lipstick-stained cigarette or the faint echo of a piano in another room—and Stewart’s delivery does its best to sell the wistful intimacy, even as the instrumentation keeps a politely calculated distance.

The accompanying video, pulled from a live DVD, offers an opportunity to see Stewart’s seasoned charm on full display, though there’s no mistaking this for a raw or spontaneous performance—it’s all rather measured, as if nostalgia were a product with very clear packaging.

For fans eager to hear pop standards revived through Stewart’s lens, this recording fits comfortably into his _Great American Songbook_ series, doing precisely what it advertises without coloring too far outside the lines.

Lifted from : Happy Birthday Rod Stewart. ‘In Good Face’

8 . Dave Matthews Band . Dreamgirl

Back in 2005, Dave Matthews Band delivered “Dreamgirl,” a rock track with a flirtation for soft rock, funk, and a rhythmic jam band essence that’s unmistakably theirs.

A dreamy slice of longing penned by Dave Matthews and Mark Batson, the song landed on their album *Stand Up*, marking the band’s first collaboration with producer Mark Batson.

Recorded in the moody depths of Haunted Hollow Studio in Charlottesville, Virginia, “Dreamgirl” captures a tenderness that feels almost wistful, a gentle swirl of romantic idealism wrapped in cascading guitars and Matthews’ signature vocal creaks and lilts.

Chart-wise, the song made respectable waves, peaking at #3 on Billboard’s Adult Alternative Songs chart and climbing to #27 on the Adult Top 40, proving its merits as an accessible earworm.

Then there’s the music video—because who wouldn’t watch Julia Roberts, at the height of her charm, spin her ethereal allure into the project due to her camaraderie with the band?

Live performances of the track added another layer to its essence, notably during the band’s Summer 2005 tour where “Dreamgirl” found space to breathe within their expansive, improvisational style, with a standout rendition emerging at Red Rocks Amphitheatre on September 11, 2005.

Lifted from : As we wish Dave Matthews, . Happy Birthday, let us have . ‘Dave Matthews Band At Their Bests’ post

9 . Christina Aguilera . I Turn to You

Released in 2000, Christina Aguilera’s “I Turn to You” walks the line between heartfelt sincerity and overproduced sentimentality.

Penned by Diane Warren, the track is drenched in that unmistakable late ’90s-to-early-2000s sound, complete with lush strings and Aguilera’s undeniably powerful, if occasionally overwhelming, vocal gymnastics.

Originally recorded by All-4-One for *Space Jam*, this version trades boy-band warmth for Aguilera’s towering emotion, which, depending on your taste, is either an upgrade or an exercise in excess.

Thematically, it centers on seeking comfort in a loved one during life’s darker moments, which Aguilera has often connected to her bond with her mother.

The accompanying video—directed by Joseph Kahn—leans heavily on melodrama, weaving imagery of a young girl’s car accident into Aguilera’s impassioned performance.

Charting at #3 on the Billboard Hot 100, the song solidified its place as a staple for emotional montages and teary-eyed karaoke sessions.

Though almost too polished, the track captures the transitional moment when Aguilera began showcasing her burgeoning affinity for deeply personal ballads.

Recorded in Los Angeles between 1998 and 1999, it stands as a snapshot of the era’s pop ambition: earnest, dramatic, and, at times, more bombastic than necessary.

Lifted from : On TV today, the American Music Awards (2001)

10 . David Bowie & Arcade Fire . Wake Up

David Bowie teaming up with Arcade Fire for “Wake Up” feels less like a duet and more like two celestial bodies briefly aligning, creating a gravitational pull everyone feels but few can explain.

Lifted from Arcade Fire’s 2004 *Funeral* album, the song isn’t just indie rock; it’s a hymn for the disillusioned masses, a cry against encroaching adulthood with a stadium-filling chorus that makes even the most cynical pause.

While the original leaned entirely on Arcade Fire’s art-rock sensibilities, Bowie’s intermittent cameos during live performances, such as “Fashion Rocks” in New York City on September 9, 2005, have lent it an unmistakable air of theatrical poignancy.

Musically, the track pivots between rawness and grandeur, with sharp guitars bleeding into booming percussions, all while Win Butler’s primal wail competes against cathartic backing vocals.

Thematically, it avoids doe-eyed nostalgia, opting instead to eulogize innocence with both ache and resignation, all underscored with post-punk flickers.

Its cultural footprint arguably outweighs its modest chart success (UK Singles chart: 29), thanks in part to strategic insertions into arenas of spectacle—U2 concerts, Super Bowl commercials, and even film trailers like *Where the Wild Things Are*.

Bowie’s presence burns brightest in performances, crafting a version dripping with existential weight—a meeting of generational angst and otherworldly charisma that feels less like collaboration and more like communion.

Adding to its eclectic legacy, proceeds from Super Bowl XLIV broadcasts involving its usage were funneled into Haiti earthquake relief, cementing its role as not just a song but a moment of fleeting altruism in pop culture.

Its recognition by *NME*, ranking it the 25th greatest song of all time in 2014, isn’t hyperbole—it’s a visceral narrative of fleeting youth wrapped in a choir of lament and defiance rarely rivaled in indie rock.

Lifted from : We remember David Bowie. ‘Just For One Day’

11 . Rage Against The Machine . Born of A Broken Man

“Born of a Broken Man” from Rage Against the Machine’s *The Battle of Los Angeles* brings an unexpected dose of introspection to a band better known for launching sonic Molotov cocktails at systemic oppression.

Released in 1999 under Epic Records and produced by Brendan O’Brien, this track trades political manifestos for personal anguish, chronicling the weight of emotional scars and resilient defiance.

Unlike the full-throttle aggression that dominates much of the album, the song’s dynamic shifts between smoldering verses and eruptions of tortured, distorted guitar lines feel like a conversation between despair and redemption.

Zack de la Rocha’s lyrics cut deep, grappling with inherited pain and hard-earned strength—emotive territory that contrasts sharply with the band’s typically outward-facing fury.

Tight fusion of rap metal and alternative metal builds the piece into a cathartic crescendo, with Tom Morello’s signature guitar textures mimicking fractured emotions rather than the usual protest marching orders.

There’s no high-gloss music video, but its depth resonates in live performances, notably their 2000 Grand Olympic Auditorium set, where the raw vulnerability collided with the band’s explosive energy.

Lifted from : As we wish today Zach de la Rocha, . Happy Birthday, the time is perfect for . ‘Rage Against the Machine At Their Bests’ post

12 . R.E.M. . The Great Beyond

Released in 1999 as part of the soundtrack for *Man on the Moon,* R.E.M.’s “The Great Beyond” hovers in its own peculiar orbit—one part homage to Andy Kaufman, another part existential meditation.

The track shuffles between wistfulness and ambition, encapsulating a yearning for something just out of reach.

Michael Stipe’s lyrics lean into abstraction, musing on bending the rules of reality, which mirrors Kaufman’s penchant for blurring the line between comedy and chaos.

Musically, it sticks to the band’s alternative roots but carries an earnest theatricality, with swelling instrumentals bolstered by live collaborators like Joey Waronker and Ken Stringfellow.

If “Man on the Moon” gave Kaufman a melodic biographer, “The Great Beyond” serves as its conceptual sequel, with threads of inspiration pulled directly from its predecessor.

The production by Pat McCarthy smooths the edges, giving it a polished but occasionally sterile feel, though its live renditions during the band’s 1999–2000 tour injected it with vibrant energy.

Liz Friedlander’s video, initially spliced with Jim Carrey’s Kaufman portrayal before shifting to archival footage of the comedian himself, adds yet another meta dimension to an already multifaceted piece.

Although the track earned impressive chart spots in the UK (#3) and a Grammy nod, it didn’t translate as powerfully across the Atlantic, landing at a modest #57 on the US Billboard Hot 100.

Lifted from : R.E.M. rock in Rio (2001)