And Then We All Bought Yachts: A Minus The Bear Discography Ranking

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For a band whose name is based on a joke about a blowjob, Minus the Bear have played a surprisingly vital role in my musical development. An alternative rock band hailing from the rainy city of Seattle, Minus The Bear made a name for themselves with a unique combination of catchy indie rock, mathy guitar tapping, and odd time signatures. This resulted in a sound that was at once accessible, dancy, hyper-technical, and entirely their own. Their lyrics are evocative and poetic, often centered around tales of love and life in the Pacific Northwest, along with iconic sing-along choruses that would become lodged in your prefrontal cortex for days on end. The band officially called it quits at the end of 2018, but to this day, they remain one of the most important and influential acts of my life. 

Minus The Bear’s Discography is somewhat daunting, stretching from the early 2000s to their final release at the tail end of 2018. They underwent very few lineup changes, but each release brought a new tone that saw the band refreshing their sound like the changing of the seasons. During their time together, Minus The Bear produced six studio albums, three EPs, two acoustic releases, one remix album, one B-sides collection, and a whole host of singles. In other words, there’s a lot of music, and somehow all of it’s worth digging into.

I first discovered Minus The Bear when a friend forced his headphones over my ears sometime in high school and played “Pachuca Sunrise” on his lime green iPod Nano. From the second that I heard those first dreamy notes, I knew that this band would become my new obsession. Placed in the same category as Portugal. The Man (who I also did a discography ranking for), these bands became the face of musical discovery for me in high school. They represented something new, something fresh, and something that was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. I downloaded the band’s discography as of 2008-ish and began to slowly immerse myself in the world of Minus The Bear.

In turn, I paid it forward and got some of my friends into the band. One of my closest childhood friends and I became MTB partners in crime, attending some half-dozen concerts together throughout high school before going our separate ways in college. To me, these songs evoke warm memories of the last carefree days of high school. They remind me of long drives on summer nights with the windows down and rainy Portland springs, begrudgingly juggling school with my teenage job at a grocery store. It’s not an understatement to say that this band soundtracked some of the most important moments, and feelings, of my life.

It’s worth noting that while this is a “ranking” of Minus The Bear’s discography, even the lowest album on this list is still a fantastic record that’s worth listening to. I believe that each of Minus The Bear’s albums shine on their own merits, the big difference is that some of these albums arrived in my life exactly when I needed them, while others haven’t had the fortune to coincide with major life events. In other words, there are no bad Minus The Bear albums: this list merely goes from “good” to “great.”

It’s also worth noting that for the purposes of this ranking, I will be disregarding the band’s remix album, B-sides collection, and some of the smaller promo singles like YAR and Hold Me Down. This list will focus on the group’s core studio albums and EPs: a grand total of eleven entries. So welcome to the world of Minus The Bear. Pour a glass of red wine, and prepare to journey into one of the best discographies of indie rock. 


11 - Voids (2017)

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Part of me feels bad putting the band’s last proper studio album lowest on this ranking, but Voids has had the least amount of time to make an impact on me, especially in comparison to some of the later albums on this list. That said, Voids is still a fantastic record that represented something of a return to form for the band as they circled back to the more mathy and intimate style of their early releases. Behind the scenes, Voids is the only album to feature drummer Kiefer Matthias who joined the band two years earlier replacing founding member Erin Tate. This record also marked the return of the band to their original label, Suicide Squeeze, for the first time since 2007’s Planet of Ice. So with some old and some new, Voids feels like a career-spanning retrospective that also acts as a truly fantastic bookend.

Voids sees MTB at their most wistful and diverse, synthesizing every different type of song they’ve made across their 17-year career into one LP. Songs like “Invisible” and “Last Kiss” are poppy radio grabs that are primed for bouncy indie dance parties and sunny top-down singalongs. Conversely, tracks like “What About The Boat?” harken back to the band’s debut, eschewing radio-ready choruses for more technical instrumentation, subdued vocals, and self-destructive lovelorn lyricism. Meanwhile, “Silver” sounds like a mid-career OMNI-cut, and “Lighthouse” builds to a glitchy, psychedelic guitar solo that would have fit in perfectly on Planet of Ice. With this record, the group pulled out all the stops and created an album that felt designed to please every type of MTB fan regardless of what their favorite era of the band was.

 

10 - Fair Enough (2018)

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Minus The Bear’s final release, Fair Enough, was an apt farewell. An EP comprised of three Voids leftovers and one remix, the band’s last formal release was a bite-sized send-off that they put out right before embarking on their farewell tour at the end of 2018. Fair Enough simultaneously acted as a reminder of what made the band great and also served as a  bittersweet love letter to fans. Everyone went into this EP knowing it was the band’s final work, and that made it all the more difficult to say goodbye. 

The opening track “Fair Enough” begins somberly with lead singer Jake Snider touching on all of his favorite topics; women, alcohol, and regret. This leads to a masterful build as synthesizers, bass, and guitar swirl together over a drumroll. “Viaduct” is a hard-driving anthemic cut, and “Dinosaur” is a groovy and carefully-constructed piece centered around one of the band’s signature guitar-tapped lines. I will say, while Sombear’s remix of “Invisible” is serviceable, the decision to close the band’s entire career out on a remix is a perplexing one. It ends up feeling more like the reprised music that plays over the end credits of a movie than a thoughtful message to fans after two decades of support. That minor gripe aside, Fair Enough is a well-rounded goodbye that briefly touches upon all the reasons why Minus The Bear were such a creative force of nature. 

 

9 - Infinity Overhead (2012)

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Infinity Overhead was the first Minus The Bear album released after I graduated from high school. While it might seem silly to demarcate a band’s discography by my own “pre” and “post” high-school phases, it feels relevant to mention here because this was the first Minus the Bear record that I consumed outside of the environment in which I first discovered them. This shifted my perspective as a listener and led to me experience the album differently than any of the band’s previous work. In other words, whether well-founded or not, this record represented an irreversible shift in my relationship with the band and how I viewed them. 

The first side of the album is interesting and fun, if not a little uneven. “Steel and Blood” is catchy enough, even if it feels like a label-mandated requirement for a lead single. Meanwhile, “Diamond Lightning” is flat-out one of the best songs the band has ever created, featuring soaring, gorgeous instrumentals and nostalgic, picturesque lyricism. Where the album really shines, however, is in its back half. From track six onward, the group launches into a stretch of fantastic songs that sound unlike anything they’ve ever created before or since. “Heaven is a Ghost Town” is an eerie and pensive meditation, “Empty Party Rooms” is a minimalistic construction that builds to an anthemic chorus, and “Lonely Gun” is a funky, obtuse track with electronic claps and a wah-wah guitar line that sounds like a laser. Perhaps most importantly, “Cold Company” is a cathartic closing track featuring a sticky chorus, a molten guitar solo, and a punchy, tight riff. It may be a little uneven, but my love and appreciation for Infinity Overhead has only grown with time.

 

8 - This Is What I Know About Being Gigantic (2001)

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On This Is What I Know About Being Gigantic we hear Minus The Bear in their earliest, most primitive form. While obviously lacking the same level of production as any of the recordings that followed it, this EP still manages to showcase a band who very much has a fully-formed idea of who they are and a vision of what they’re working towards. 

There’s signature mathy guitar tapping, synthy embellishments, technical drumming, weird time signatures, romantic lyricism, catchy choruses, and bizarre song titles. It’s textbook Minus The Bear right from the very start from the awesomely-named “Hey Wanna Throw Up? Get Me Naked” to the enamored and intoxicated “Pantsuit... Uggghhh.” In a heartwarming turn of events, “Lemurs, Man, Lemurs” was a staple of the group’s farewell tour setlist, and let me tell you, it was nothing short of life-affirming to hear a room full of people yelling “roll one for me / roll one for me / let’s drink all night” at the top of their lungs a full seventeen years after the song was released. 

 

7 - Acoustics II (2013)

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I’ll admit that including Minus The Bear’s acoustic albums in this countdown feels like a bit of a cheat, if only because they’re essentially Greatest Hits records. While the band’s acoustic releases feature cherry-picked hits from every stage of their career, I’d argue that the songs standalone and were recreated with enough love and care that they constitute their own entries. Acoustics II is, as you would expect, a fully-acoustic collection of songs and a sequel to the band’s first acoustic release in 2008. Practically doubling the original Acoustic’s runtime, the sequel is a full-length release that reimagines some of the band’s greatest tracks from each of their previous albums along with two unique tracks created just for this record. 

One of the most striking parts of both of Minus The Bear’s acoustic releases is how above-and-beyond the band went. They could have just sung their old songs over a single acoustic guitar and released them to rabid fans, but instead, they reimagine them from the ground up with lush additions and careful instrumentation. The songs are faithful and true to the originals but also feel renewed and fresh, cast in a new, more minimalistic light. We as listeners see the barebones artistry of each track; the lyrics are laid bare, every guitar note is crystal clear, and the bass carefully guides each track to its intended destination. Everything is carefully constructed, resulting in a loving release that feels like a celebratory victory lap lauding the band’s prior artistic achievements.  

 

6 - Omni (2010)

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I’ll admit that it took me a while to come around on Omni... In fact, this seems like a good as place as any to acknowledge that I flat out didn’t like this record for years. Perhaps because Minus The Bear were coming off (arguably) their strongest and most cohesive project with Planet of Ice, but also because this album represented a shift away from the more moody and atmospheric work of their first few albums towards a more bright and sunny style of indie music. 

Omni’s opening track sets the tone for the record perfectly. Based around a melody played off a Suzuki Omnichord, “My Time” is a dancy warm weather song that was often accompanied by cascades of balloons or explosions of confetti at the band’s live shows. In fact, the entire first half of the record is packed with catchy and pristine cuts that could have easily been chart-topping singles if there were any justice in the world.“Summer Angel” is an amber-coated love song that finds the band happier than they’ve ever been. “Secret Country” is a careening cliffside banger with a powerful riff, buttery smooth drum beat, and muscular synth line. “Hold Me Down” is a groovy and restless track that alternates between pensive introspective stretches and fast-paced eruptions of joy. By the album’s back half, the sun has set, and the group’s love-filled optimism has made way for the distorted and mind-altering allure of drug-fueled nightlife. “Into The Mirror” is a narrative track starring a cast of seedy characters and a mirror piled with excessive amounts of cocaine. “Animal Backwards” is an abstract and psychedelic journey led by reversed bass-pumping synth line that sounds like it could have soundtracked Homer’s Guatemalan Chili Pepper trip. By the time “Dayglow Vista Rd.” rolls around, the sun has risen once again, and the group finds themselves just as enamored and overjoyed as they were at the start of the journey. Finally, “Fooled By The Night” acts as a final coda that assures us everything will be okay in the end before sending us off into a restful sleep.

 

5 - Acoustics (2008)

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Coming hot off the heels of their third album, Minus The Bear’s first acoustic EP may have been released in October of 2008, but that didn’t stop it from feeling like a warm ray of sunshine. Like letting fresh air into a room that has become stale and stagnant, Acoustics saw the group stripping themselves of all studio magic and electronic trickery for a release that felt both bare and lively. Pulling mostly from the previous year’s Planet of Ice, this EP revisited some of the band’s most recent creations and cast them in a considerably different light. Also accompanied by a cut from their debut, their sophomore record, and a unique song recorded just for this release, Acoustics might be Minus The Bear at their most lyrically-precise and instrumentally-pure.

The opening salvo of “Guns & Ammo” and “We’re Not A Football Team” go a long way for setting the warm, sunny tone of the release. Sounding like an early-June day, these tracks evoke hammocks, fresh blades of grass, and light beers enjoyed in that hour right as the sun is setting and you’re enjoying the last waning moments of warmth. Even the Planet of Ice tracks which sounded frosty and atmospheric in their original context now sound wholesome and positively sun-drenched in their new acoustic dressings. This release goes a long way in letting the music speak for itself; showing that these songs can exist in any context and still work toward their intended purpose. 

 

4 - They Make Beer Commercials Like This (2004)

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Admittedly a bit of a dark horse in this ranking, They Make Beer Commercials Like This is Minus The Bear’s second EP. Initially released in 2004, two years after their debut and one year out from Menos El Oso, Beer Commercials essentially acted as an artistic stopgap between the band’s shifting styles. This EP saw MTB drop some of the more fast-paced leanings of their debut and move into a more mature space that they fully fleshed out on their sophomore record.

Part of this EP’s strength comes from how punctual it is. A lightweight six tracks clocking in at a collective 22-minutes. This was later expanded to seven tracks when the band re-released this EP in 2008, but the point still stands: Beer Commercials does not overstay its welcome. Opening track “Fine + 2 PTS” is a sexy dance number that thumps with bass and synth practically leaping off the record drenched in neon light and smelling like high-end cocktails. While other highlights on this EP include the extremely-mathy “Let’s Play Clowns,” the trashy punk “Dog Park,” and the carefree “Hey! Is That A Ninja Up There?,” the strongest song is undeniably the one smack-dab in the middle of the tracklist.

I’m Totally Not Down With Rob's Alien” opens with a hypnotic electronic drum beat, reverb-laden guitar strum, and glitchy flash-forward to the song’s emotional climax. Through each of the verses, Snider paints a picture of one carefree day from his childhood. He’s lakeside somewhere, it’s a sunny afternoon, and his parents are out at the grocery store. He decides to take advantage of this quiet and go for a swim. In the chorus, he belts out, “And I swim out as far as I can / And float on my back / Just waiting for nothing.” Not only is this a beautiful and poetic image, but I’ve also found that it speaks to something deep within me. Our narrator is young (at least young enough to still live with their parents), and there’s some deep-ingrained satisfaction in taking time for yourself just to exist and speak to no one, or as Snider puts it: “It's a lot more fun alone.” With this one song admittedly weighing the release higher in my opinion, Beer Commercials is still a tantalizing and well-constructed release that foreshadowed the greatness to come and also leaves you wanting more.

 

3 - Planet of Ice (2007)

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Planet of Ice just might be Minus The Bear’s masterpiece. Despite coming in at third on my list, Planet of Ice is often cited as many fan’s favorite MTB album, or at least a high point in the band’s discography. Unequivocally the darkest and most proggy record in the group’s history, this third album found Minus The Bear slowing things down and exploring darker corners of their psyche (and the world) than they ever have before. 

One point in favor of Planet of Ice’s greatness is the staggering range of tracks. You have easily-digestible earworms like “Burying Luck,” and of course, the undeniable “Knights” with its bouncy drumbeat and scream-along chorus. There are pensive jazzy tracks like “Ice Monster” and “Part 2” that sound tailor-made for dark, rainy, neon-lit alleys and rooms illuminated solely through the narrow slats of Venetian blinds. Planet of Ice also boasts some of the longest songs the band has ever created: “Dr. L’Ling” uses its seven-minutes to create a time-bomb like build that erupts into a dance party, meanwhile “Lotus” is an expansive multi-part odyssey stretching nearly nine minutes long. This record also saw Snider experimenting with his lyrics, turning away from loosely-autobiographical tales to fascinating character studies on “White Mystery” and the aforementioned “Ice Monster.”

The album’s most impressive feat comes in its three-song stretch near the end with “Throwin’ Shapes,” “When We Escape,” and “Double Vision Quest.” These are arguably three of the strongest songs the group has ever created, and the fact that they’re all next to each other only makes the record feel all the more impressive. “Throwin’ Shapes,” the shortest cut on the album (and a staple of the band’s live set), is a chorus-heavy dance track that’s packed with irreversible momentum. “When We Escape” begins with a tone-setting synth melody and step-ladder guitar tap that mounts up to a gnashing moshpit-inspiring breakdown before floating off into space. Finally, “Double Vision Quest” is a spellbinding zero-gravity love song centered around hypnotic guitar work that climaxes in an extended instrumental break where each band member gets to flex their respective chops. 

It’s also worth noting that the bonus tracks for Planet of Ice are also spectacular. “Cat Calls and Ill Means,” “Electric Rainbow,” and “Patiently Waiting” are all deep cuts that every fan should hear (most of which finally got their justice on the band’s B-sides collection Lost Loves). Hell, even the P.O.S. remix of “Knights” is fantastic, and I’m usually wary of electronic remixes like this. There’s definitely an argument to be made that Planet of Ice is Minus The Bear’s best album, while I’ll never deny the quality of this record, it sits at one tonal (and technical) end of the band’s discography; it’s darker, more electronic, and more proggy than anything else they’ve ever created. In other words, it has earned its name. It’s just that when it comes down to it, I’m a bigger fan of the band’s warmer, more fast-paced releases. Speaking of which… 

 

2 - Highly Refined Pirates (2002)

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Here is where I abandon any real impression of this being an objective list. While Highly Refined Pirates has its fair share of fans, it also finds the band at their most brash and charmingly-ignorant. Released just one year after the scene-setting Gigantic, this album represented Minus The Bear’s full-fledged unveiling to the world, and what an unveiling it was.

Opening track “Thanks for the Killer Game of Crisco Twister” wastes no time getting into things with Snider belting out, “And then we all buy yachts!” at the two-second mark. Placed over a knotty guitar line, this opening lyric more or less acted as the band’s mission statement for the first half of their career. Equal parts goofy, catchy, and chaotically-obtuse, I can’t think of a better one-line encapsulation of the band than this one. These tongue-in-cheek boasts lead to half-ironic imagery of sunglasses, remote island cabins, and endlessly-topped off beverages. This all builds to a cathartic chorus of “Our girls are looking so good! / Our girls are looking so good!” To me, these lines evoke lakeside bike rides during summer vacations in high school. They smell like sunscreen and feel like high desert sun on my skin. Ironic as these lyrics may be, they also manage to capture something beautiful and wholesome that I’ll never be able to reclaim again. 

The following songs feature similarly feel-good sentiments like “Monkey!!! Knife!!! Fight!!!” which erupts in a chorus of “We'll drive around the lake / Just a little too fast / Yeah, windows down / The wine in our heads / The city lights just blur.” Reading these lines written out, you might think they’re off a chart-topping rap song, but instead, they’re placed over a bouncing rhythm section and precise math-rock guitar. The band’s earliest hit, “Absinthe Party at the Fly Honey Warehouse,” tells the tale of escaping overseas where the red wine flows freely, where there’s a simple pleasure in a solitary park bench, and where a two-star hotel will suffice. 

These drunken elations are punctuated with meditative instrumental tracks that act less like a breathless pause between songs on the dancefloor and more like a stand-in for the two hours of sleep caught between benders. “We Are Not A Football Team” is a slow-paced springtime love song in which natural beauty and late nights lead to spending time with someone you adore, where your only goal is merely to be in their presence. Similarly, “Get Me Naked 2: Electric Boogaloo” saw Minus The Bear beating everyone to the ironic subtitle punch while also featuring some of the most beautiful and poetic descriptions of an early-stage relationship I’ve ever heard. Things get slightly murkier by the end of the record as “Spritz!!! Spritz!!!” seemingly expends all of the band’s energy, leaving them drained of endorphins for the jazzy “I Lost All My Money At The Cockfights” and the heartbroken “Let’s Play Guitar In a Five Guitar Band,” both of which still manage to work their way up to moving choruses and instrumental builds. 

Highly Refined Pirates, rough-around-the-edges as it may be, is an album that captures a mood and distills it down to its purest essence. In the same way that Carrie & Lowell is a dark and morbid album about the loss of a loved one, Highly Refined Pirates is a light and sunny album about carefree summers and innocence lost. Those records are obviously on opposite ends of the tonal spectrum, but they both manage to capture their respective moods to great effect. The songs on Highly Refined Pirates shimmer like the sun bouncing off a lake. They breeze through your ears like a summer wind nudging the leaves on the trees. Sure, this album literally soundtracked some of my last pure and innocent summers, but the music itself reflects those memories beautifully, even if they’re a little over the top. 

 

1 - Menos El Oso (2005)

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Here we are at the top of our list with Menos El Oso. One of the many reasons I don’t consider myself a “music journalist” is because I’m not nearly impartial enough to be paid to do this. I let personal experiences, biases, and perspectives seep into my writing, and that is (generally) considered a big no-no in journalism of any form. As you can see above, I’m prone to elevating albums based on hyper-specific personal experiences, and I also don’t like being negative, so the whole “critical” side of the profession kid of falls flat for me. Even so, I’m about to use a word I try my hardest to avoid at all costs because of what it entails: Menos El Oso is perfect.

I used to fall under the camp that no album can ever be perfect because it’s an inherently unreachable descriptor. Whether it’s the production, one weird guitar lick, or even one word in a verse that doesn’t sit right with you, there will likely always be something that detracts from an album and keeps it from perfection. While I still believe “perfection” is a loaded term that should generally remain unused, I also believe that, when taken on the merits of indie rock, Minus The Bear’s second album is a perfect creation.

Not only was the band able to overcome the dreaded sophomore slump, but they also created their single most varied, long-living, and financially successful album. Sure, Menos El Oso is the best Minus The Bear album, but it’s also one of the best indie albums of all time. This record is a staggering achievement of musicianship, songwriting, and creativity where every song stands on its own, feels unique, and builds to something bigger. There is simply no other way that this ranking could have ended.

From second one of the record, the band comes out swinging on “The Game Needed Me,” bashing the listener over the head with a breakaway table of a riff. The guitar, bass, drums, and electronics all coalesce into one pointed barrage of instrumentation that immediately introduces the listener to the wonderful world of Minus The Bear. Things subside just enough by the time that the first verse rolls around in which Snider provides a stark contrast to the opulent opening lines of Pirates as he sings, “We don't have money / So we can't lose it” before his concerns are quelled by the touch of another person. Soon, his mind shifts from romantic pursuits to capitalism as he questions the exchange of time for money, the desire to escape that dynamic, as well as the fear that he might miss the “caress” of his office desk. “The Game Needed Me” is a killer opening track and represents an immediate improvement of the band on virtually every level.

Memphis & 53rd” bears a similar array of earthly concerns in between hazy dream sequences and stays in arid desert motels. Similarly, “Drilling” is a tight song featuring picturesque oceanside cliffs, scenic overlooks, and the nagging feeling that this all is too good to be true. The songs on this record range from carefree party tracks, fast cars, and childlike innocence on “The Fix,” “Michio’s Death Drive,” and “Hooray,” just to name a few. These emotional high points are tempered with the darkness of morbid noire tales on “El Torrente,” and dingy smoke-filled bars on “Fulfill The Dream.”

Of course, I’d be remiss to not mention “Pachuca Sunrise,” the band’s magnum opus, and the reason I fell in love with Minus The Bear in the first place. Featuring uplifting glistening guitars, a mellow, laid-back rhythm section, and lyrics of paradise on earth, there’s a good reason why “Pachuca Sunrise” has endured as the band’s most popular song. Alternating between this heavenly depiction of a remote Mediterranian beach and snappy drum-led choruses that feel constructed with the sole purpose of providing fans the perfect beat to dance around to. 

Capping Menos El Oso off is “This Ain’t A Surfin’ Movie,” which has the distinct qualification of being my favorite song of all time, an honor it has held for nearly a decade at this point. I wrote about this song in loving detail for Swim Into The Sound’s celebratory 100th article, but it’s obviously worth going into at least a little bit of detail here. Much like “Pachuca Sunrise,” “Surfin’ Movie” recounts a tale of a beach-side getaway. It’s you and the person you love most spending the day away from civilization, troubles, and worries. This song bears some of Snider’s most precious and loving lyricism as he depicts reveling in a lover’s soft touch, the beauty of song, and ultimately becoming one with nature. It’s about finding your soulmate and planning out your future together as memories of cities and the bustle of modern life become fainter by the minute. It’s gorgeous, loving, and the single most beautiful song I’ve ever heard. “This Ain’t A Surfin’ Movie” speaks to something deep within me, and I want to live in these five minutes forever. It’s a perfect song and the cherry on top of a perfect album. 

If Planet of Ice is a frigid winter album and Omni is a breezy summer record, then Menos El Oso is every season in one. It stretches from sweltering deserts to snow-covered Pacific Northwest towns. It ranges from perilous cliff tops to sandy beaches. It spans entire lifetimes of love, life, mistakes, and memories, all in just 45 minutes. Each song manages to sound different from the others that surround it and simultaneously bear loving, poetic verses alongside bouncy dancefloor-ready choruses. There’s not a bad song in the bunch, and the fact that Menos El Oso contains both the band’s biggest hit and my favorite song of all time means that it was a shoo-in for the top spot on this list. 

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It’s worth reiterating that, as much as I love Menos El Oso, every album on this list is fantastic and worth digging into. Even a cursory look at the band’s top songs on Spotify reveals a diverse list of hits that range all the way from their first album to their most recent. You’ve got “Pachuca Sunrise” off Menos El Oso, “Into The Mirror” off Omni, “Absinthe Party” off Highly Refined Pirates, “Knights” off Planet of Ice, “Last Kiss” off Voids, and even “Rob’s Alien” off Beer Commercials. In other words, Minus The Bear have managed to release an undeniable hit song off everything they’ve ever released, and if that’s not a feat, then I don’t know what is.

It’s incredible when you revisit some pivotal form of art from your youth and it still holds up. Minus The Bear have offered something that not only holds up, but ages like a fine wine. These albums impacted me deeply in high school and led me to new forms of music, but have only continued to get better with each passing year. These albums have become inextricably linked to some of the most important memories of my teenage years and beyond. 

Minus The Bear became a point of bonding for my friend group. These songs soundtracked long nights making dumb decisions, and carefree days skateboarding through culdesacs. These tracks played during moments of absolute love, as well as the aching pain of heartbreak. I can still close my eyes and transport myself back to summer days of Watermelon Arizona tea, sunscreen, and scabs from skateboarding down a hill that didn’t seem that steep from the top. It was nights of video games and making each other tear up with laughter as we willingly sacrificed precious hours of sleep just to continue staying awake to create a few more bleary memories.

These albums are obviously very near and dear to my heart, but they’re also near and dear to a lot of people’s hearts. When Minus The Bear decided to call it quits in 2018 I was saddened by the proverbial closing of such an important chapter of my life, but the memories associated with this music will live on forever. That’s a tall order for a band whose name is based on a blowjob joke. Long live Minus The Bear.

My Favorite Songs of All Time

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With this post, Swim Into The Sound has officially reached 100 articles! I’ll admit between the dreary weather and burnout at work I’ve felt less than inspired to post here regularly this year, however 100 blog posts is a big deal, and I wanted to make sure that I did it justice. I’ve got dozens of different ideas for articles jotted down in digital notes across various devices, but it felt ingenuine to put up “just another” write-up as my one-hundredth post. 

This January I celebrated all of the site’s recent achievements, and of course, the Favorites page has an ongoing list of our best articles, so I didn’t really want to focus on the blog from either of those perspectives. Instead, I’ve decided I’m going to do a write-up on something straightforward but important: my favorite songs of all time. 

My desktop has a 100+ song playlist of my favorite songs all meticulously organized, ordered, and ranked. While that playlist still receives some regular updates, the top 15 or so haven’t changed in a number of years, so I figured why not highlight all of these tracks in one place to celebrate the site’s recent milestone? Without further adieu, I’m excited to share my 15 favorite songs of all time.


15 | Donnie Trumpet & The Social Experiment - “Sunday Candy”

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Two years after Acid Rap had cemented itself in my life, I was eagerly waiting to see what Chance the Rapper would do next. Suddenly on a late May evening in 2015, an album called Surf was uploaded to iTunes for free. Released under the name “Donnie Trumpet & The Social Experiment,” Surf was a collaborative project that combined the artistic powers of Chance The Rapper, trumpeter Nico Segal, and a host of other Chicago musicians. 

Making sure to savor every ounce of this new release, I wanted to ensure my first listen was special. I downloaded the album, grabbed a couple of hard ciders, and spent the evening in my backyard listening to Surf on a night that was just warm enough to enjoy without a jacket. 

Surf wasn’t quite the Acid-Rap follow-up I was expecting, but it ended up being a release I enjoyed nonetheless. The record is a joyous, warm, and creative outpouring that’s filled to the brim with collaborative spirit. As my first listen came to a close, the record began to wrap up with the penultimate “Sunday Candy,” a bright and loving gospel track that finds Chance reminiscing about his grandmother’s role in his life. These expressions of love are all wrapped around a sunny, infectious chorus courtesy of Jamila Woods that radiates with happiness and a vibrant zeal for life. My first listen of the song left me breathless, tearful, and overjoyed. To this day, “Sunday Candy” still has the power to make my day a little bit better merely by its presence. 

14 | Band Of Horses - “The Funeral”

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While I have an overall preference for Band of Horses’ sophomore record, there’s no denying the brilliance of “The Funeral.” Far and away the band’s most popular song, “The Funeral” revolves around a sparkling guitar line and poetic lyrics that address loss and separation. At some point in the late-2000’s the song entered the pantheon of iconic alt-rock tracks alongside the likes of “Mr. Brightside,” and “Skinny Love,” yet no matter how many times I hear “The Funeral” in a bar, in a movie, or in a commercial, the song manages to disarm me completely. There’s something profoundly spiritual and awe-inspiring lying at the emotional core of “The Funeral,” and that feeling hits me harder each time I listen to it. 

13 | The Flaming Lips - “Do You Realize??”

Around the same time that I was discovering indie rock, I was also introduced to The Flaming Lips. While the entirety of Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots was a mind-bending discovery back in high school, “Do You Realize??” was anything like I’d ever heard in my life. Tackling death from an honest and straightforward perspective, the song genuinely made me consider what all my relationships meant to me. It made me think about the inevitability of it all, and what kind of life I wanted to share with those around me. I’d like to think it gave me a greater appreciation for life as a whole, not just existence itself, but life as it was happening. Because one day all of this will be gone, so why wouldn’t you savor every second? Good or bad, life is a gift, and it’s easy to take that for granted. 

12 | My Morning Jacket - “I Will Sing You Songs”

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I still remember my first time hearing “I Will Sing You Songs.” After having My Morning Jacket’s discography on my iPod for nearly three years, I’d put off listening to them only for “I Will Sing You Songs” to come up on shuffle and stop me in my tracks. Almost instantly, I was swept up in the song and found myself frozen by its slow-moving melody. For nine minutes the song carried me gently into an expression of love and adoration that I felt down to my bones. It was dream-like, transportive, and absolutely gorgeous; precisely what I needed to hear at that moment. Years later, It Still Moves has become one of my favorite alternative records of all time, and “I Will Sing You Songs” remains it’s shining, perfect centerpiece.

11 | Radiohead - “Jigsaw Falling Into Place”

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Jigsaw Falling Into Place” is one of the most well-paced songs in Radiohead's discography. Starting out with a winding guitar lick and hi-hat keeping time, these two instruments set the scene for an explosive tale of flirtation, heartbreak, and love lost. Within a few beats, the bass enters the fray, and suddenly the song ignites like an engine. Within an instant, all of the instruments fall into a fast-paced groove as the guitar jangles underneath Thom Yorke’s moody humming. Depicting a series of drunken college nights filled with missed connections and possible love, “Jigsaw Falling Into Place” is a nonstop, evermoving journey that can only end in one way. The song continually mounts until every element is exploding to life with color and the song reaches its emotional fever pitch. Everything is humming at the right frequency, beguiling the listener in the most well-crafted and artistic way. 

10 | Sufjan Stevens - “Oh God, Where Are You Now?”

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I’ve already written at great length about my love for Sufjan Stevens’ Michigan, but “Oh God, Where Are You Now?” is the single-song encapsulation of why I love this man’s art. It’s the song that led me to Sufjan. The song that carried me through countless winters whether I was alone or surrounded by loved ones. This song is everything that I love about the Earth, and art, and creativity, and beauty. It’s a haunting, spiritual, and heart-rending question of existence all wrapped in memories that make me feel like I’ve lived this story a hundred times before. It’s the soundtrack to my heart and the death of each year. An absolutely stunning and beautiful track that’s quintessential to my existence. 

9 | Funkadelic - “Maggot Brain”

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I first heard “Maggot Brain” in middle school knowing nothing of George Clinton, Parlament-Funkadelic, or even rock as a whole for that matter. I’d barely dipped my toe in the water of psychedelia, and even less in instrumental music… which explains why this song felt so revelatory when I’d first experienced it. “Maggot Brain” begins with a disarming spoken word introduction followed by ten minutes of the most soulful guitar work I had ever heard...or have ever heard. Split into two halves, the first section of “Maggot Brain” reads like a eulogy. A wordless loss that commemorates the unspeakable feeling of discovering a loved one had passed. This builds up into an eruption of emotion found in the second half in a transition that flows seamlessly and makes sense on a cosmic level. The journey contained within the song can be read in many different ways, and I hear a different pathway each time I relisten to the piece. Truly a powerful condensation of the human psyche. 

8 | Radiohead - “You And Whose Army?”

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There aren’t many words you can make out in “You And Whose Army?” Sure, you can hear the title (also about the closest the song ever gets to a chorus), but what’s left is a mush of phrases that are practically left up to the listener’s imagination. Individual words may make their way through, but for the most part, I love “You And Whose Army?” because it’s an endlessly-interpretable song. These delicately-delivered lyrics are placed above a gently-strummed guitar and Yorke’s own hums in the background. Midway through the song, these fragile elements meet a more precise bassline, rigid drumbeat, and shaky piano that all carry the song to its wounded emotional climax. “You And Whose Army?” is haunting, beautiful, and foreboding all at the same time. Everything feels at once obscured and perfectly in place. 

7 | Pink Floyd - “The Great Gig In The Sky” 

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One of the most spiritual experiences I’ve ever had wasn’t at a church, on a vacation, or in a relationship, it was listening to “The Great Gig In The Sky” in my backyard all by myself. Yet another album I was handed in middle school, I must have listened to Dark Side of the Moon dozens of times trying to figure out why everyone thought it was so great. It was on t-shirts, referenced in pop culture, and obviously meant a lot to everyone older than me… but I just couldn’t for the life of me figure out what made this record so great. Years later, I put the album on during a warm summer evening and let the LP carry me from beginning to end. It was an experience I’ll never forget, and “The Great Gig In The Sky” was the emotional climax of that journey. From the introductory dialogue, the way the instrumental lifts, and of course, Clare Torry’s brilliant performance on vocals, there’s nothing quite like “Great Gig” out there in the world. To this day, I’ve still never found a song that captures the hard-to-grasp emotions tied to life and death as well as this song does within these four minutes.

6| Explosions In The Sky - “Have You Passed Through This Night?”

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For my money, there’s no song more frisson-inducing than Explosions in the Sky’s “Have You Passed Through This Night?” Centered around a sample of dialogue from The Thin Red Line, this is one of the only songs in the band’s discography to have any sort of lyrical content whatsoever. Maybe the decision to center a track around these words is what makes it even more powerful. 

As you listen to the gentle guitar strums laid carefully underneath this sample, a sudden gunshot cuts through the song. Then we hear the titular line. Then a slow-moving guitar. Then a series of increasingly-powerful drum strikes. The song then mounts for the remaining four minutes creating one of the most beautiful builds in the entire genre of post-rock. Truly a moving piece of music that instills a sense of something greater just beyond the next mountain. Absolutely awe-inspiring. 

5| The Cribs - “Be Safe” 

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Generally speaking, I am not a “lyrics guy.” I tend to take songs as a whole without necessarily focusing on any one individual element, including the words being sung. That goes for just about every song except for “Be Safe” by The Cribs. An anomaly within their discography, “Be Safe” finds lead singer Ryan Jarman ceding control to Sonic Youth’s Lee Ranaldo for long-winded spoken word passages that act as collages of random visuals placed over a ceaseless instrumental bed. Beginning in a definitively-negative headspace, the song finds its narrator complaining about “One of those fucking awful black days when nothing is pleasing” and how they hate everyone around them. Our narrator explains that he could change, but he knows his old self will always catch up no matter how hard he tries. Suddenly, without warning, The Cribs’ lead singer Ryan Jarman enters the song with a bright and shimmering chorus that seems to give our narrator hope:

I know a place we can go
Where you'll fall in love so hard that
You'll wish you were dead

From here, Ranaldo describes life through a series of abstract flashes, each of which brings a beautiful glimpse of the world into the listener’s mind. As these images pass through your headphones, the song gets brighter and picks up its pace. The words become more positive until they culminate in an escalating rallying cry of “Open all the boxes!” before one last scene-setting outro. It’s undeniable poetry. A reversal of mood that captures these two vastly different feelings and how one person or event can turn your life around in such a short amount of time. It’s a reminder that sadness isn’t permanent, and that the world is beautiful. That it always has been. 

4 | Queens Of The Stone Age - “A Song For The Dead” 

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It only took a few listens for Songs For The Deaf to become my favorite album of all-time back in middle school. The record was unlike anything I’d ever heard and introduced me to a vast array of genres that I’m still shocked all work in conjunction with each other. At this point, Songs For The Deaf has been my favorite album for over one decade, and “A Song For The Dead” is just one of the many reasons why. If you were to ask me why this song spoke to me specifically, I’d answer with one word: drums. 

Featuring Dave Grohl of the Foo Fighters on percussion, “A Song For The Dead” is a marvel of precision instrumentation. It’s a middle-finger-extended ‘fuck you’ rock track that’s propelled by Grohl’s unrelenting presence on the drums. Beginning with a single organ note and hi-hat keeping time, a guitar sets the scene followed quickly by a series of drum fills courtesy of Grohl. Within seconds, Grohl lays down a swaying drum beat, and the bass enters mimicking the guitar line perfectly. Josh Homme’s trademarked snarling vocals throw the listener headfirst into song’s desolate, desert-themed hopelessness, all the while Grohl’s cymbals crash, snare snaps, and sleigh bells jingle. 

One of the best moments come in the songs final seconds where several fakeout endings are tied together by multiple drum solos and an unrelenting guitar line. This is one of the few songs I know every molecule of, and I have to give Dave Grohl props for contributing such a major element to the track’s structure. 

3 | Sharks Keep Moving - “Like a River” 

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Picture this: It’s summer. You just graduated high school. You dropped your date off at her house, and now you’re going for a long drive through the countryside with your windows down as you watch the sun set over rolling hills in the distance. That’s what listening to “Like a River” is like. 

Helmed by Minus The Bear’s Jake Snider, Sharks Keep Moving was a short-lived jazzy-math rock band from Seattle featuring members who would go on to form groups like Pretty Girls Make Graves, Botch, and The Blood Brothers. The band produced one full-length, two EPs, and one split in their five-ish years together, and despite their relatively-small output, every song managed to strike a chord in the heart of a high-school-aged Taylor. 

While every song is worth a listen, “Like a River” is the crown jewel of Sharks Keep Moving’s discography. Front-loaded with a narrative tale of drunken love, the song is half storytelling, half gorgeous instrumental. Throughout the first half, Snider paints a scene of meeting a woman at a bar and becoming immediately infatuated with her. Ending the tale with a half-drunk rallying cry of “Get up / Let’s Walk,” the song then floats the listener along a river of sound with an instrumental that adds some color to the narrative brush-strokes laid earlier in the track. It gives just enough time for the listener to meditate and fill in the blanks of the story, whether that be with the words they were just handed or recent experiences in their own life. It’s a transformative piece of art that manages to clock in at 11-minutes long, yet not overstay its welcome. It’s pure contentment, captured to music. 

2| Radiohead - “Nude”

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I know what you’re thinking… another Radiohead song? But hear me out, “Nude” is the perfect Radiohead song. A love song at its core, “Nude” may not be as popular as “Creep” or as catchy as “Karma Police” or as versatile as “Exit Music,” but it manages to reach another level entirely. Lying somewhere between the groovy approach of “Reckoner” and the lyrical content of “True Love Waits,” “Nude” was a long-shelved Radiohead track that took literally one decade to see the light of day.  

Centered around a pristine bassline, careful drumming, and a reversed vocal bed, “Nude” is a world-shattering love song. The defeated lyrics are sung in Yorke’s highest falsetto as Colin Greenwood’s bass rumbles lovingly below him. Meanwhile, Philip Selway’s drums fall into perfect synch with Johnny Greenwood’s gentle guitar plucks, and all of this swirls behind gorgeous orchestral swells that mount with each word.

There’s no other word with which to describe “Nude” other than beautiful. Each element works in perfect synch for a song that emulates love, loss, heartbreak, and sorrow all within the space of four minutes. Those feelings crest as Yorke belts out “You’ll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking” before the song is carried out by a build of double-tracked hums that feels careful, practiced, and achingly beautiful. A rare example of a song that was worth the ten-year incubation period. 

1 | Minus The Bear - “This Ain't a Surfin' Movie”

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Well, here we are, my favorite song of all time, and I don’t even know where to begin. “This Ain't a Surfin' Movie” is perfect — a song of love, beauty, and escape that feels like it was tailor-made for me specifically. 

I first discovered Minus The Bear back in high school around the same time as Bon Iver, Portugal. The Man, and half of the other songs on this list. Specifically, I remember hearing “Pachuca Sunrise” (the band’s most popular song) and “Fulfill the Dream” on a friend’s iPod and being nothing short of blown away. Minus The Bear’s music just made sense to my brain, like it was something I’d been waiting for for years and finally found. Both of those songs coming from the same record, I decided to give the rest of Menos El Oso a listen, and wouldn’t you know that I loved it almost instantly. 

My favorite song on the record jostled around from time to time throughout high school, but a piece of me was always impressed with the way the band ended the album on such an abjectly-beautiful and warm note with “This Ain't a Surfin' Movie.” Depicting a beach-side evening alone with a lover, “Surfin’ Movie” is a song about physical and emotional paradise. A day spent in the arms of a lover in a beautiful place where nothing else matters but you and the connection to that other person. It’s quite literally the most powerful, moving, and loving thing I’ve ever heard put to music. 

Keep in mind, this song comes after ten other dancy, catchy, groovy songs that soundtracked my high school years, so there’s absolutely some added power there, but even still, “Surfin’ Movie” caps off not just this album, but our list as my favorite song of all time. 

To this day, I still remember sitting in the parking lot of a 7/11 back in high school with my childhood friend. We were riding the high of having just attended our first Minus The Bear concert, drinking AriZona’s, listening to Menos El Oso, and reveling in what we had just seen. I remember feeling speechless once the album ended, wishing I could live in that feeling forever.

“This Ain’t A Surfin’ Movie” is a marvel to listen to. It’s a monument to love and an absolute artistic achievement. It’s something that I’m lucky to have found, and fortunate enough to have felt. It’s simply perfect. 

You can listen to a playlist of all these songs here.