This week In ‘2000s Throwback’ 05/52

Bloc Party, Muse, Foo Fighters, Morrissey, The Strokes, R.E.M., Shakira, Tom Petty, Vampire Weekend, Justin Timberlake, Avril Lavigne, Norah Jones

They are the ‘2000s Throwback’ artists selected among the 355 Posts we publish this week.

Here, they are reunited in one glorious playlist. Enjoy!

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Tracklist

1 . Bloc Party . Like Eating Glass

With a title like “Like Eating Glass,” Bloc Party’s opener from *Silent Alarm* doesn’t tread lightly—it’s more like an atmospheric barrage of grit. The angular guitar riffs clash and echo like shards, creating a sound that feels equal parts raw and calculated.

The lyrics, cryptic but cutting, toe the line between introspection and frustration, perfectly capturing the emotional confusion of a relationship on the edge of collapse. “It’s so cold in this house,” frontman Kele Okereke declares, as if expelling stale air from a suffocating room.

Produced by Paul Epworth in 2004, the track carries his signature sheen while refusing to sacrifice the band’s jagged edges. Bloc Party blends post-punk urgency with a hypnotic rhythm section, slipping their brit-rock DNA into dance-rock’s skittering pulse.

Then there’s the oddity of a remix culture flowering around this tune. Ladytron’s take almost softens its harshness, morphing the track into a smoky lounge version, while Black Strobe’s sprawling 10-minute rework seems intent on stretching tension to its limits. The latter was even paired with art in a gimmick-laden package, proving the track’s currency in early ’00s alternative circles.

Oh, and let’s not forget its stint on “Tony Hawk’s American Wasteland,” a video game arguably more influential on millennial music taste than MTV ever was. It fits the context—snarling but danceable, with just enough melodrama to soundtrack middle-school angst on a virtual skateboard. Even today, “Like Eating Glass” cuts just as jaggedly, a reminder that discomfort can still groove if served with edge and precision.


Lifted from : Bloc Party release their debut album ‘Silent Alarm’ (2005)

2 . Muse . Plug in Baby

“Plug In Baby” by Muse feels like a technophile’s anthem draped in theatrical paranoia and steeped in early-2000s alternative rock glory.

Released in 2001 as the lead single from *Origin of Symmetry*, the track flexes its unapologetically flamboyant muscles with a guitar riff so iconic it practically demands an altar of its own.

That riff, swirling in B minor and flirting with the harmonic minor scale, suggests a strange musical lineage—think Bach crash-landing into the post-grunge era, with Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” weirdly echoing somewhere in the corner.

At 136 bpm, it churns with relentless energy, underscoring frontman Matt Bellamy’s operatic yelps about synthetic affection and dystopian malaise.

The music video, in all its early-millennium awkwardness, features jump cuts of the band mixed with unsettling glimpses of women adorned with plastic prosthetics, set within an architectural fever dream of Crescent House’s spiraling geometry.

It’s not subtle. But then, Muse doesn’t do subtle.

The title itself invites layers of speculation, though Bellamy’s conflicting stories about its genesis—ranging from an Argos catalogue to a sex-shop adjacency—could just be a smokescreen for its more existentialist undertones: the surrender to technology disguised as intimacy.

Live renditions such as their 2000 London Astoria performance bolster its reputation as a setlist linchpin, showcasing Muse in their rawest, chest-thumping incarnation, even as later polished versions on *HAARP* or *Live at Rome Olympic Stadium* attempt to canonize its mania.

“Plug In Baby” thrives in contradictions; it’s a love song to guitars, a dirge for humanity’s surrender to artificiality, and a prime example of Muse’s unrelenting capacity to delight and disorient in equal measure.


Lifted from : Muse play in London (2000)

3 . Foo Fighters . Stacked Actors

Foo Fighters’ “Stacked Actors” crashes into the scene with a grungy ferocity that seems more at home in the ’90s underground than on the polished airwaves of the 2000s.

The track emerges from their third album, *There Is Nothing Left to Lose*, with a scathing critique of Hollywood’s phony veneer, channeling Dave Grohl’s personal disdain for the land of shiny facades and empty promises.

The opening riffs slam with unapologetic heaviness, setting the tone for a song that oscillates between raw aggression in its choruses and unexpectedly jazzy, off-kilter verses.

This juxtaposition mirrors Grohl’s ability to cross genres without abandoning his rock roots, pulling listeners into a chaotic yet oddly tight composition.

“Stacked Actors” holds a special place as one of Foo Fighters’ heaviest offerings, often shaking up live audiences with its extended guitar solos and ferocious energy, though it mysteriously fell out of rotation after 2013, only to reappear in its unaltered, brute form in 2019.

Released as a commercial single in Australia alone, it still made waves on U.S. rock charts, hitting number nine on the Mainstream Rock chart, a testament to its persistent radio appeal despite limited distribution.

Its inclusion in pop culture touchstones like *Guitar Hero: Metallica* and *Rock Band 3* further cements its place as more than just a throwback to Grohl’s Nirvana years.

The song’s sharp edges and unpolished attitude resonate even in live recordings, echoing the raw, visceral appeal of the band’s early days.

More than two decades after its release, it feels like a snapshot of Grohl grappling with the contradictions of fame, with a snarl that refuses to compromise, even as it teeters on the edge of controlled chaos.


Lifted from : Foo Fighters go to church (2000)

4 . Morrissey . Something Is Squeezing My Skull

Morrissey’s *Something Is Squeezing My Skull* struts into the room with a swagger as abrasive as its title, enveloped in raw urgency that’s quintessentially his.

The song is a relentless whirlwind of frenetic guitars and pounding drums, courtesy of Alain Whyte’s tight composition and Jerry Finn’s polished production, the latter lending a visceral edge that’s all muscle, no fat.

Lyrically, it’s Morrissey doing what Morrissey does best: teetering between self-pity and defiant humor, rattling off a list of prescription medications with the cadence of an auctioneer at a pharmacy sale.

Recorded in Los Angeles in the tail end of 2007, it exudes a frenetic energy that mirrors the chaos of its narrative—frustration, alienation, and the crutch of modern remedies crash headfirst into his signature melancholic wit.

The single release in April 2009 came with live B-sides showcasing a nostalgic nod to Smiths-era brilliance (“This Charming Man”) alongside deeper solo cuts like “Best Friend on the Payroll.”

Chart-wise, it’s an interesting conundrum: middling at number 46 on the UK Singles Chart while reigning supreme in Scotland, buoyed by physical sales during a digital-first era, lending it an almost curio-like quality in an era of streams and clicks.

The accompanying artwork—Morrissey wrapping himself around Johnny Ramone’s memorial statue at Hollywood Forever Cemetery—is as theatrical and self-aware as the man himself, a glimmer of dark irreverence fans have come to expect.

Though it never reached iconic heights, the track captures the restless defiance of its creator, lashing out at the absurdities of modern anguish wrapped in jarring riffs and wit so sharp it leaves a sting.


Lifted from : On TV today, Morrissey with Jimmy Kimmel (2009)

5 . The Strokes . Barely Legal

“Barely Legal” by The Strokes is unapologetically drenched in the youthful bravado and awkward edges of their debut album, *Is This It*.

Stripped down to its essentials, the track leans into jangly guitars and a driving, repetitive rhythm, painting a picture that feels caught halfway between a downtown NYC dive bar and a restless teenage garage rehearsal.

The lyrics, centering on a girl freshly navigating adulthood’s thorny thresholds, flirt with provocative territory but stop short of over-intellectualizing their subject matter.

Julian Casablancas practically sneers through his vocals, delivering a performance that exudes raw confidence yet hints at discomfort; it’s telling that he later admitted this track makes him cringe slightly.

Still, that same unvarnished, borderline reckless energy underscores both the song’s charm and The Strokes’ appeal, particularly during their rise.

Re-recorded in a rush of sessions with Gordon Raphael, “Barely Legal” also reflects the band’s ethos at the time: keeping things unpolished, immediate, and just a little self-aware.

Its spotlight moment arrived with their 2002 MTV2 $2 Bill concert, where it played out as an emblem of their ability to channel simplicity into bite-sized rebellion.

Circumventing sophistication in favor of jagged hooks, their sound here, while far from flawless, serves as a perfectly messy postcard from the beginning of a now quintessential era of indie rock.


Lifted from : MTV2 tapes The Strokes (2002)

6 . R.E.M. . Aftermath

Released as the second single from R.E.M.’s 13th studio album “Around the Sun,” *Aftermath* manages to feel like both an echo of the band’s previous work and a muted anthem for their early 2000s identity crisis.

The track positions itself firmly within the polished, introspective territory that the band leaned into during their later years, trading the raw urgency of their 1980s output for soft textures and reassuring melodies.

It charted modestly—peaking at number 41 in the UK, with middling performances in European territories, suggesting it resonated more as a gentle ripple than a cultural moment.

The accompanying video, co-directed by Blue Leach and Peter Care, juxtaposes ordinary locations like the Hyatt Regency Hotel in San Francisco and the London Eye with the song’s subdued optimism, though the visuals arguably lend more intrigue than the song delivers on its own.

The real charm of *Aftermath* lies less in its studio rendition and more in the live versions, where it gains a certain looseness, as seen in a 2005 Oberhausen performance documented online.

Still, this period of R.E.M.’s career often feels caught between the weight of their legacy and the pressure to redefine themselves, leaving tracks like *Aftermath* pleasant but oddly unmotivated—a bittersweet reminder that longevity doesn’t always equal innovation.


Lifted from : REM perform in Oberhausen, Germany (2005)

7 . Shakira . Whenever Wherever

Shakira’s “Whenever, Wherever” is a curious cocktail of Latin flair, Andean whispers, and pop production that screams early 2000s. It’s a song that parachutes listeners into a world where destiny apparently favors barefoot blondes crooning about improbable love stories under panpipe solos. Subtle it’s not, but subtlety isn’t the selling point here; spectacle is.

The song leans heavily on Shakira’s unique vocal acrobatics, which oscillate between raw emotion and undiluted theatricality. Then there’s that guitar riff—a sly nod to Pink Floyd’s “Shine On, You Crazy Diamond,” though any deeper comparison feels like a stretch. The panpipes, anchoring the song in a distinctly Andean soundscape, risk veering into novelty territory but somehow manage to ride the line between exoticism and authenticity.

The lyrics, in their English incarnation, tread the fine line between earnest and absurd. Yes, there’s a charm to lines that feel ripped from a telenovela’s most dramatic moments, but some phrases border on the nonsensical, as if they were written under the influence of a rhyming dictionary and cosmic optimism. The Spanish version, “Suerte,” fares better, its natural rhythm lending credibility to the narrative of cosmic love.

The music video, directed by Francis Lawrence, spins Shakira through every elemental extreme imaginable, making it both mesmerizing and bizarre. Water, sand, snow—she conquers them all, much like a superhero striking Instagram-worthy poses back in the analog era. It marked her American breakthrough, though in retrospect, it’s hard not to see it as gloriously over-the-top, a monument to the MTV age when green screens and ambition knew no bounds.

Commercially, the track was a juggernaut, weaving its way into global charts like an earworm that didn’t ask for permission. And let’s not forget its Super Bowl revival in 2020, where it rocketed back onto the digital sales charts, proving its staying power in a world light-years removed from its original context.

“Whenever, Wherever” may not be flawless, but perfection isn’t its goal. It’s brash, confident, a little nonsensical, and entirely Shakira—a moment in pop history where global ambition met melodramatic bravado, and we’re still humming along decades later.


Lifted from : Happy Birthday Shakira

8 . Tom Petty . Running Down . Dream

“Runnin’ Down a Dream” by Tom Petty encapsulates a road trip for the restless, blending rock grit with a hint of whimsical nostalgia.

Released in 1989, it springs from “Full Moon Fever,” Petty’s solo endeavor, crafted with Mike Campbell and Jeff Lynne, who clearly relish spinning simplicity into something magnetic.

The guitar solo, nailed in one take by Campbell, shreds its way into the song’s unrelenting momentum—raw, immediate, unapologetically alive.

Lyrically, Petty tips his hat to Del Shannon’s “Runaway,” sneaking in an intertextual wink that anchors the track in collective pop memory.

The animated music video dives headlong into Winsor McCay’s “Little Nemo in Slumberland” and even pays fleeting homage to 1933’s “King Kong,” using pop culture as canvas rather than crutch.

This is a song that knows where it’s going, whether burned into halftime shows, NASCAR promos, or a “Family Guy” gag—though its ubiquity risks blunting its edge.

Still, “Runnin’ Down a Dream” is less rock revivalism and more rock’s defiant shrug, plowing steadfastly ahead, radio dials be damned.


Lifted from : On TV today, Tom Petty . The Heartbreakers at ‘Super Bowl XLII’ (2008)

9 . Vampire Weekend . Oxford Comma

Vampire Weekend’s “Oxford Comma” plays with sharp wit and a touch of irreverence, exemplifying the band’s knack for turning the mundane into poetic fodder.

Named after a punctuation quirk, the track highlights lead vocalist Ezra Koenig’s fixation on trivial details while slyly questioning their larger significance.

The lyrics bounce between clever observations and peculiar cultural references, including the Dalai Lama’s residence in Dharamsala and a nod to rapper Lil Jon—an inspired juxtaposition of highbrow and lowbrow worlds.

The song’s structure feels loose but purposefully so, with its lyrically dense verses giving way to a deceptively simple, almost anthemic chorus.

Musically, it thrives on afrobeat-inspired rhythms and intricate guitar lines, effortlessly blending world influences with a preppy indie ethos.

Richard Ayoade’s one-take music video, with its Wes Anderson-inspired precision, amplifies the song’s tongue-in-cheek whimsy while skirting pretension.

Despite its esoteric humor and niche subject matter, “Oxford Comma” managed to carve a space in the mainstream, peaking at an admirable #38 on the UK Singles Chart.

Its lasting appeal lies in its ability to transform a minor grammatical debate into something oddly resonant, encapsulating the quirks that define Vampire Weekend’s early work.


Lifted from : XL Recordings publish ‘Vampire Weekend’ their eponymous debut album (2008)

10 . Justin Timberlake . Cry Me A River

Justin Timberlake’s “Cry Me a River” walks the tightrope between the sting of personal betrayal and the detached cool of pop craftsmanship.

Laced with the fingerprints of Timbaland’s inventive production, the track pairs moody electric piano chords and slinking beatbox rhythms with shifty synths and cinematic Gregorian chants, creating a murky yet magnetic soundscape.

The lyrics, simmering with passive-aggressive heartbreak, are widely speculated to be Timberlake’s side-eyed nod to his breakup with Britney Spears—a very public nod at that.

The accompanying music video, sleek and vindictive, sees Timberlake skulking through his ex’s home, installing hidden cameras while casting longing, judgmental glares—drama fit for the TRL era.

Vocally, Timberlake leans into his falsetto, giving the track a haunting, almost ghosted quality, while the choral interjections in the chorus lend an air of church-like gravitas to his grievances.

Its layers of instrumental mischief mesh seamlessly with its brooding narrative, allowing the track to straddle personal confession and pop spectacle with ease.

Some might argue its success hinges a little too snugly on tabloid intrigue, but there’s no denying the alchemy between Timberlake and Timbaland here—a dynamic they’d stretch across an entire discography.

The song doesn’t perform forgiveness; instead, it marinates in its own pettiness, serving revenge with a slow, calculated simmer rather than a boiling rage.

“Cry Me a River” isn’t just a breakup song; it’s a post-breakup flex where every layered sound bite mocks, seduces, and haunts in equal measure.


Lifted from : Happy Birthday Justin Timberlake. ‘The Justin Case’

11 . Avril Lavigne . I’m with You

“I’m with You” by Avril Lavigne emerges as a striking anomaly on her debut album, “Let Go,” standing as her first ballad offered as a single.

The song mirrors a cold night’s aimless wandering, drenched in longing and melancholy, wrapped in sweeping strings and a deliberate progression that captures loneliness without veering into theatrics.

Lyrically, it is straightforward, almost blunt, painting vulnerability without excess flourish: the emotional equivalent of crying into your pizza at 3 a.m. while wondering where it all went wrong.

Commercially, its impact was undeniable, climbing to number four on the US Billboard Hot 100 and lingering on the chart for an impressive 27 weeks, a feat that doesn’t occur by accident in the early 2000s pop landscape.

The accompanying music video is Lavigne in her moody, anti-glamorous prime, wandering dimly lit streets and looking almost allergic to the party she unwillingly stumbles into.

The visual originally planned to close with her meeting bandmates, but editing nixed her reunion, leaving her solitude intact—a fitting metaphor for the song’s essence.

The track’s appearance at the 2005 Tsunami Relief concert gave a rare cultural moment of Lavigne as a performer stepping beyond radio airwaves, stripping the studio polish for a rawer, earnest delivery.

There’s something both calculated and refreshingly unaffected about this ballad; it tiptoes that fine line between catchy vulnerability and accessible despair without pretension.

It’s not groundbreaking, nor is it trying to be, but therein lies its odd charm—it’s a song for anyone who’s ever felt adrift, amplified by a mid-tempo moment that refuses to promise resolution.


Lifted from : Avril Lavigne sings for Tsunami victims (2005)

12 . Norah Jones . Until The End

Norah Jones’s *“Until the End”* feels like a quiet conversation held in dim light, far from the noise of the world outside.

Written during her South Pacific tour years and tucked into her third album, *“Not Too Late”* (2007), the song captures an introspective intimacy that’s hard to manufacture.

This isn’t a track that stamps its foot for attention; it saunters in, laced with melancholia and a sense of unresolved yearning, wrapped in Jones’s coy vocal delivery.

The album itself landed like a heavyweight on the charts, debuting at number one in seventeen countries—a flex, no doubt, but one that contrasts with the delicate sparseness of tracks like this one.

Supported by the stripped-down production of co-writer Lee Alexander, the instrumentation here is more about mood than movement, all soft edges and restrained crescendos.

Oddly enough, the song was never pushed as a single, perhaps acknowledging that its charm thrives in the album’s broader narrative rather than in isolation.

A live performance filmed in the unremarkable hum of Burbank, California, adds little beyond a visual to what’s already a vividly painted emotional landscape.

It’s not a track you’d call essential by any means, but it lingers, more like a polite ghost than a full-blown haunt.


Lifted from : Blue Note publish Norah Jones’ third album . ‘Not Too Late’ (2007)

For THE FULL 2000s THROWBACKS COLLECTION click here

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(*) According to our own statistics, upadted on February 16, 2025

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