Today is Have A Bad Day Day. Per holidayinsights.com, as a greeting today, you are encouraged people to wish people a lousy or terrible day.
I think wishing a terrible day to someone to their face might put you in danger. Instead, I choose to celebrate with song. If someone were to hear one of the songs on my Have A Bad Day Day playlist, they’d know that somebody out there wants their day to suck.
Welcome to a journey through rhythm. November is International Drum Month, and this collection honors the masters of the drum kit, the players whose feel, power, and ingenuity define the songs we love. From the tightest pockets to the most explosive solos, these are the heartbeats of modern music. Let’s give the drummers some.
Good Vibrations – The Beach Boys The legendary session musician Hal Blaine provides the sharp, inventive percussion, using everything from sleigh bells to a detached kick drum to build the song’s complex and sunny atmosphere.
Cissy Strut – The Meters Joseph “Zigaboo” Modeliste, the architect of New Orleans funk, creates a syncopated, greasy, and endlessly influential groove that has been the blueprint for funk drummers ever since.
Smells Like Teen Spirit – Nirvana Dave Grohl’s performance is a masterclass in quiet-loud dynamics, with his simple, powerful groove in the verse exploding into a torrent of raw energy for the iconic chorus.
One – Metallica Lars Ulrich’s machine-gun double bass drumming on the intro is one of metal’s most defining moments, perfectly mimicking the sound of battlefield artillery.
Superstition – Stevie Wonder The irresistible funk pattern that drives this track was played by none other than Stevie Wonder himself, who laid down the clavinet, bass, and drum parts to create a perfect storm of groove.
The Glamorous Life – Sheila E. A tour de force from the legendary percussionist and drummer Sheila E., this track is a showcase of her technical virtuosity and incredible funk sensibilities.
In The Air Tonight – Phil Collins For three minutes, Phil Collins builds unbearable tension before unleashing the most famous drum fill in history, a thunderous burst of gated reverb toms that everyone has air-drummed to.
Rosanna – Toto The late, great Jeff Porcaro gives a masterclass in the half-time shuffle, creating a feel so iconic and difficult to replicate that it’s now simply known as the “Rosanna shuffle.”
Come Together – The Beatles Ringo Starr’s signature swampy, tea-towel-dampened tom groove is the unmistakable foundation of this track, proving that feel and creativity are more important than flash.
Brick House – The Commodores Walter “Clyde” Orange not only provides the lead vocals but also lays down a funk groove so solid and deep you could build a house on it, proving that sometimes the simplest beat is the most effective.
Rock With You – Michael Jackson Session giant John “JR” Robinson creates a beat that is smooth, sophisticated, and impossibly deep in the pocket, providing the perfect shimmering pulse for dancing.
Sing, Sing, Sing (With A Swing) – Benny Goodman & His Orchestra Gene Krupa became music’s first superstar drummer with this performance, his primal, floor-tom-driven solo setting the standard for all drum features to come.
Voodoo Child (Slight Return) – The Jimi Hendrix Experience Mitch Mitchell’s jazz-influenced, wildly improvisational drumming is the perfect foil for Hendrix’s guitar, a chaotic and conversational force of nature.
When The Levee Breaks – Led Zeppelin Recorded in a stairwell with two microphones, John Bonham’s colossal, booming groove is arguably the most recognizable and revered drum sound ever committed to tape.
Message in a Bottle – The Police Showcasing his unique, reggae-infused style, Stewart Copeland’s intricate hi-hat work and signature use of the splash cymbal give this song its nervous, driving energy.
Funky Drummer – James Brown Here, Clyde Stubblefield plays what is perhaps the most-sampled drum break in history, a 20-second piece of rhythmic perfection that became a cornerstone of hip-hop.
Gimme Shelter – The Rolling Stones The picture of restraint and taste, Charlie Watts enters the song with a deceptively simple beat that carries all the dread and swing the track demands.
I’ve Seen All Good People – Yes Bill Bruford’s crisp, creative, and complex drumming is on full display, navigating the song’s shifting sections with technical precision and musical grace.
50 Ways to Leave Your Lover – Paul Simon Steve Gadd lays down one of the most recognizable and clever marching-band-inspired beats in popular music, a sophisticated and instantly memorable pattern.
Think (About It) – Lyn Collins Another gift to hip-hop from the James Brown band, this track features John “Jabo” Starks’s impossibly tight groove and a legendary drum break that keeps on giving.
White Room – Cream The inimitable Ginger Baker announces this psychedelic classic with a powerful 5/4 tom-tom intro, setting the stage with his heavy, melodic, and groundbreaking style.
Hot For Teacher – Van Halen Alex Van Halen’s frantic, shuffling intro sounds like a barely-contained engine, kicking off one of the most exhilarating double-bass-fueled drum tracks in rock history.
Sunday Bloody Sunday – U2 Larry Mullen Jr.’s militaristic, unrelenting snare drum pattern, recorded in a reverberant stairwell, serves as the song’s defiant and unwavering backbone.
Schism – Tool A master of complexity, Danny Carey navigates the song’s dizzying array of shifting time signatures with a tribal power and mathematical precision that is simply breathtaking.
Baba O’Riley – The Who The untamable Keith Moon crashes and tumbles through this rock anthem, playing with a frenetic energy that threatens to send the song flying off the rails at any moment.
Dig Me Out – Sleater-Kinney Janet Weiss is the roaring engine of this track, playing with a ferocious power, impeccable timing, and creative fills that drive the song forward relentlessly.
I Heard It Through the Grapevine – Gladys Knight & the Pips Funk Brothers drummers Uriel Jones and the great Benny Benjamin create a powerhouse rhythm section, delivering a performance full of simmering tension and explosive release that punctuates the song’s raw emotion.
Dancin’ Fool – Frank Zappa Terry Bozzio is the manic force behind this track, navigating Zappa’s absurd rhythmic twists and turns with an explosive combination of power, precision, and theatrical flair.
One Love/People Get Ready – Bob Marley & The Wailers Carlton “Carly” Barrett, the originator of the “One Drop” rhythm, gives this song its iconic reggae heartbeat, where the accent is on the third beat of the measure.
Footprints – The Miles Davis Quintet At just 20 years old, Tony Williams redefined jazz drumming with his explosive and interactive playing, shattering old conventions and pushing the entire band to new heights.
Have you ever looked at a playlist from a single year and felt a sense of disbelief? It’s one thing for a year to produce a few memorable hits, but it’s another for it to feel like a highlight reel of music history. Looking at the charts from 1965 is exactly that kind of experience. It wasn’t just a year of good songs; it was a pivotal moment when popular music seemed to mature in several different directions at once, producing an astonishing collection of classics that still resonate today.
On one hand, 1965 saw the art of the immaculately produced pop song reach a new peak. The Motown machine was in full, glorious swing, giving us the suave romance of The Temptations’ “My Girl” and the intricate heartbreak of Smokey Robinson’s “The Tracks of My Tears.” The Supremes demanded attention with the dramatic plea of “Stop! In the Name of Love,” a perfect example of studio craftsmanship meeting raw emotion. Across the Atlantic, Petula Clark’s “Downtown” offered a sweeping, cinematic vision of city life. These weren’t just catchy tunes; they were impeccably arranged, powerfully sung, and emotionally direct pieces of art that defined a certain kind of pop perfection.
At the very same time, a grittier, more defiant sound was taking hold. The Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” wasn’t just a hit song; it was a statement of intent, built around a fuzzy, unforgettable guitar riff that sounded like pure frustration. This raw energy was a common thread. From the garage-rock howl of Them’s “Gloria” to the stuttering, youthful angst of The Who’s “I Can’t Explain,” rock music was shedding its cleaner-cut image. This wasn’t the polished sound of the studio; it was the restless sound of the rehearsal room, and it was connecting with an entire generation.
Beyond the evolving sounds, the lyrical substance of popular music was deepening profoundly. Bob Dylan completely rewrote the rules with “Like a Rolling Stone,” a six-minute epic of poetic scorn that proved a hit single could be complex, challenging, and literary. That same year, The Byrds took Dylan’s words and electrified them, creating a new genre overnight with their shimmering version of “Mr. Tambourine Man.” This new lyrical consciousness also carried immense social weight. Sam Cooke’s posthumously released “A Change Is Gonna Come” and The Impressions’ hopeful “People Get Ready” became enduring anthems of the Civil Rights Movement, demonstrating that music could be both a comfort and a powerful call for progress.
What makes 1965 so striking is that none of these developments happened in isolation. It was a year of convergence, where you could hear the sweet soul of Marvin Gaye’s “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)” on the radio right next to the birth of funk in James Brown’s “Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag.” The carefree optimism of The Beach Boys’ “California Girls” shared the airwaves with the deep, aching soul of Otis Redding’s “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long.” The sheer volume of landmark recordings from this single 12-month period is a testament to a unique moment in time—a year when the boundaries of pop music were expanding in every direction, leaving us with a collection of songs that feel less like relics and more like foundation stones.
One of the best ways to understand a song’s true strength is to hear it played by someone else. When a song can be lifted from its original context, performed by a different artist in a new style, and still resonate, you know the writers built it on a solid foundation. Looking at the sheer breadth of artists who have successfully interpreted the songs of Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, it becomes clear that their songwriting partnership created something remarkably durable. While their own recordings as The Rolling Stones are iconic, it’s the cover versions that reveal the fundamental power of the compositions themselves.
The playlist immediately highlights how deeply their writing is rooted in the American soul and R&B they revered. It’s one thing to be influenced by a genre; it’s another to write songs that the masters of that genre can inhabit as their own. When you hear Aretha Franklin transform “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” into a gospel-fueled force of nature, or Ike & Tina Turner inject “Honky Tonk Women” with their signature high-octane energy, you realize the songs contain an authentic rhythmic and emotional core. This goes even deeper with Solomon Burke’s take on “I Got the Blues” or Bettye LaVette’s searing, world-weary version of “Salt of the Earth.” These aren’t just covers; they are reclamations, demonstrating that the blueprints Jagger and Richards created were so solid that they could hold the weight of the most powerful voices in soul music.
What’s also remarkable is the structural flexibility of their work. A great Jagger/Richards song often has a distinct personality, yet its core components—melody, lyrical theme, and chordal movement—are adaptable enough to thrive in entirely new environments. The post-punk angularity of Devo’s “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” strips away the blues swagger to expose the lyric’s timeless complaint of modern alienation. The Sundays reimagine the country-tinged “Wild Horses” as a piece of shimmering, ethereal dream pop, proving the song’s beautiful melody is its true anchor. Even more extreme, the Ramones boil “Out of Time” down to its raw essentials, recasting the shuffling pop song as a driving, three-chord punk declaration, while Ituana finds a relaxed, bossa nova groove in the epic “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” The songs don’t just survive these transformations; they reveal different facets of their character.
Ultimately, this collection of performances underscores that the Jagger/Richards catalog is more than a collection of iconic riffs and rock and roll attitude. These are fundamentally well-crafted songs. They can be country laments in the hands of Johnny Cash (“No Expectations”) or Steve Earle (“Dead Flowers”). They can be theatrical pop statements for David Bowie (“Let’s Spend The Night Together”) or Bryan Ferry (“Sympathy for the Devil”). They can even be played for laughs by “Weird Al” and The Folksmen precisely because the source material is so instantly recognizable. The Rolling Stones’ versions will always be definitive, but these interpretations from other artists give us a clearer view of the writers’ craft, proving the songs stand on their own, ready for anyone to find a piece of their own story within them.
One way to measure a songwriter’s reach is not by how often their work is covered, but how widely. The playlist below spans decades, genres, and sensibilities—from Adele to The Dead Weather, from Johnny Cash to the Neville Brothers—and all roads lead back to Bob Dylan. This is not just a reflection of his prominence; it’s a testament to the adaptability of his writing. Dylan’s lyrics aren’t locked into one style or moment—they hold up when filtered through gospel, punk, glam, folk, or soul. His songs invite reimagining because they’re grounded in strong narrative bones and emotional honesty, not ornamental frills.
Consider the different shades of “All Along the Watchtower.” Dylan’s original version is stark and cryptic; Hendrix turned it into an electrified storm. Likewise, “I Shall Be Released,” rendered with hushed reverence by The Band, has the structure of a gospel hymn but the ambiguity of a fable. “Make You Feel My Love,” one of Dylan’s later compositions, found new life in Adele’s version—proof that his songwriting didn’t peak in the ’60s, but simply evolved. His voice as a writer has always been the constant: a blend of plainspoken wisdom, sly humor, and a deep sense of historical and emotional context.
It’s notable, too, how Dylan’s songs seem to absorb the character of the performer. When Elvis Presley sings “Tomorrow Is a Long Time,” it feels like a Southern ballad. When PJ Harvey takes on “Highway 61 Revisited,” it becomes something raw and jagged. Nina Simone’s version of “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues” brings out a haunted intensity not present in Dylan’s own delivery. That elasticity points to a rare kind of craftsmanship—songs written with enough specificity to be meaningful, but enough openness to be inhabited.
Even in unexpected settings, Dylan’s words linger. Tom Petty co-wrote the lyrics to “Jammin’ Me” with him, a pointed pop-rock critique of media saturation. Patti Smith’s “Changing of the Guards” channels the mystical imagery and layered storytelling that Dylan deployed throughout the ’70s. And when The Specials tear into “Maggie’s Farm,” it becomes a statement of punk-era defiance. These aren’t nostalgia pieces—they’re songs that meet each era on its own terms.
Dylan’s catalog isn’t just influential; it’s usable. His songs function as cultural currency, endlessly exchangeable yet retaining value. Whether you hear him through Joan Osborne’s gothic reading of “Man in the Long Black Coat” or the crystalline harmonies of Peter, Paul and Mary’s “Blowin’ in the Wind,” what’s most striking is not just who sings Dylan—but what his songs reveal when they do.
By 1966, rock and pop music had reached a critical turning point. The early, relatively simple sounds of rock and roll were giving way to a more experimental, ambitious approach, yet the airwaves were still filled with instantly memorable melodies. The year saw the release of songs that would go on to define entire careers—The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations” took pop production to new heights, The Four Tops’ “Reach Out (I’ll Be There)” solidified Motown’s dominance, and The Rolling Stones’ “Paint It Black” pushed rock into darker, more dramatic territory. Meanwhile, The Monkees burst onto the scene with “I’m a Believer,” adding a dose of manufactured but undeniably catchy charm to the mix.
Psychedelia was creeping into mainstream music, foreshadowing the sonic explorations that would fully take hold in the coming years. The Byrds’ “Eight Miles High” and The 13th Floor Elevators’ “You’re Gonna Miss Me” hinted at a new, mind-expanding direction for rock, while The Beatles’ “Paperback Writer” and its B-side, “Rain,” found the band toying with the limits of studio technology. The Who’s “My Generation,” released in late 1965 but peaking on the US charts in ’66, captured the rebellious energy of youth culture, while ? and the Mysterians’ “96 Tears” gave garage rock one of its most enduring anthems.
Soul music was also in full bloom, delivering some of its most powerful and enduring records. Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman” became an instant classic, dripping with raw emotion. Jimmy Ruffin’s “What Becomes of the Brokenhearted” and The Supremes’ “You Can’t Hurry Love” showcased Motown’s knack for blending heartache and joy in equal measure. Meanwhile, James Brown’s “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World” was a testament to his singular ability to infuse deep soul with commentary. Over in the R&B realm, Ike & Tina Turner’s “River Deep – Mountain High”—though not a hit in the U.S. at the time—demonstrated producer Phil Spector’s bombastic “Wall of Sound” approach at its most overwhelming.
The year also had its share of songs that were simply too infectious to ignore. The Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Summer in the City” painted a sweltering urban landscape with its mix of laid-back verses and explosive choruses. Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” turned a simple, stomping beat into a statement of defiant cool. The Walker Brothers’ “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore” and The Left Banke’s “Walk Away Renée” delivered lush, baroque pop melancholy, while Eddie Floyd’s “Knock on Wood” became one of the defining records of Stax-style Southern soul.
Perhaps what’s most striking about 1966 in retrospect is just how many of these songs have endured. Whether through original recordings, countless covers, or their presence in film and television, these records still resonate. From the garage rock sneer of The Bobby Fuller Four’s “I Fought the Law” to the hypnotic stomp of The Troggs’ “Wild Thing,” the music of 1966 wasn’t just a snapshot of its time—it was the foundation for what was to come.
Nineteen sixty-seven stands as a pivotal moment in the evolution of popular music, a year when artistic boundaries expanded dramatically across multiple genres. The musical landscape was transformed by groundbreaking releases from established artists and remarkable debuts from newcomers who would become legends. From Aretha Franklin’s powerful rendition of “Respect” to Pink Floyd’s psychedelic “See Emily Play,” the year produced an extraordinary collection of songs that continue to resonate decades later.
Soul music experienced a remarkable surge, with Aretha Franklin’s definitive version of “Respect” establishing her as the genre’s preeminent female voice. The raw emotion of Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness,” the exuberance of Jackie Wilson’s “(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher,” and the groove-driven “Soul Man” by Sam & Dave showcased the genre’s diversity and emotional range. Motown continued its dominance with several more hits for Diana Ross & the Supremes, including “The Happening,” while Smokey Robinson & the Miracles added “I Second That Emotion” to their growing catalog of hits. Marvin Gaye enjoyed multiple chart successes in 1967, with “Your Precious Love” being just one of several duets with Tammi Terrell that would define this productive period.
Meanwhile, rock music underwent seismic shifts as experimentation became the norm. The Beatles had an astonishingly prolific year, releasing the landmark album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band while also producing standalone singles of remarkable quality like “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Penny Lane.” The Doors’ extended opus “Light My Fire” and The Jimi Hendrix Experience’s revolutionary “Purple Haze” redefined what electric guitars could accomplish. The Rolling Stones contributed the melancholic beauty of “Ruby Tuesday,” which ironically became the bigger hit after radio stations deemed its intended A-side, “Let’s Spend the Night Together,” too controversial for airplay. The Who’s powerhouse “I Can See for Miles” and Buffalo Springfield’s protest anthem “For What It’s Worth” reflected rock’s increasing social consciousness. Perhaps most radical was The Velvet Underground’s “Heroin,” which brought an unprecedented rawness to discussions of addiction.
The year’s diversity extended far beyond these genres. The Monkees transcended their manufactured origins with the wistful “Daydream Believer,” while Van Morrison crafted the timeless “Brown Eyed Girl.” Bobbie Gentry’s Southern Gothic narrative “Ode to Billie Joe” demonstrated songwriting’s storytelling potential, and Procol Harum’s “A Whiter Shade of Pale” merged classical influences with rock sensibilities. Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” and Pink Floyd’s “See Emily Play” pushed psychedelic music further into the mainstream, establishing both bands as significant forces in the burgeoning psychedelic scene.
What made 1967 truly remarkable was how these diverse sounds coexisted and influenced each other, creating a musical conversation that crossed genre lines. This was the year when album-oriented rock solidified, soul music reached new emotional depths, and psychedelia flowered into mainstream consciousness. The thirty songs listed here barely scratch the surface of a year that saw popular music mature into an art form capable of expressing the full spectrum of human experience. Many artists were at their creative peaks, producing multiple hit singles and groundbreaking albums within this single exceptional year. These recordings capture a moment when musical innovation accelerated at an unprecedented pace, leaving an enduring legacy that continues to inspire and influence musicians more than half a century later.