With Which I Am Well Pleased IX (Types of Ambiguity)

Yet another installment in my recurring series, within which I share 15 things that have rocked my world in recent weeks. As always, I welcome your own suggestions on things that I might have missed, but need to see, hear, watch, read, eat, play with, or experience!





This Is The End And It’s Still Living: Anita Lane (1960 – 2021)

Various media sources are reporting the death of Australian singer-songwriter Anita Lane, though the precise date and manner of her flying away, like her birth date, and like much of her professional career and personal life, remain publicly obscure. She was a long-time contributor to a German-English-Australian creative axis involving such artists as The Birthday Party, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Einstürzende Neubauten, Rowland S. Howard, Crime and the City Solution, Die Haut, Mick Harvey, These Immortal Souls, Kid Congo Powers, and Barry Adamson. A native of Melbourne, Lane emigrated to the United Kingdom with The Birthday Party in 1980, then lived in Germany, Morocco, Sicily, New York and Australia at various times over the ensuing years. In the early 2000s, she largely retired from music-making, returning for good to her native Australia. She spent several years caring for her family in a small coastal town near the Queensland-New South Wales border, then returned to Melbourne, where she died, her peripatetic global experiences ultimately delivering her back to her birthplace for that sad, final bow.

Lane was not at all prolific as a recording artist, releasing but one EP (Dirty Sings in 1988) and two albums (1993’s Dirty Pearl and 2001’s Sex O’Clock) under her own name, all of them outstanding and woefully under-appreciated. Her (slightly) larger mark on recording history was as a lyrical and vocal guest collaborator for most of the aforementioned artists, with a song here, a song there, unpredictable in their occurrence, but always a treat when they landed. She penned lyrics for The Birthday Party’s classic tracks “Dead Joe,” “Kiss Me Black,” and “A Dead Song.” (The header of this post comes from the latter of those three). She was a founding member of Cave’s Bad Seeds, co-writing “From Her to Eternity” and “Stranger Than Kindness,” both regarded among his finest works, by critics, audiences, and Cave himself. She also provided several thrilling vocal parts on ex-Birthday Party/Bad Seed Mick Harvey’s English arrangements of Serge Gainsbourg‘s catalog highlights, and her duet with Blixa Bargeld on Neubauten’s “Blume” is among that group’s greatest achievements.

At bottom line, Anita Lane was judicious, perhaps even guarded, in choosing her projects, but she always made a difference with her contributions. As a long-time listener, I was always pleased when I purchased a record and discovered that she was a part of it, one way or another. While the creative cohort within which Lane primarily moved and worked has certainly been capable of copious macho bullshit over the years, there were and are several personally and creatively strong women active in that orbit (e.g. Lane, Lydia Lunch, Genevieve McGuckin, Gudrun Gut, Bronwyn Adams, Danielle de Picciotto, etc.) who were not just playing a passive “muse” role, but were active, and outstanding, working artists in their own rights.

Their catalogs are all impressive, and worthy of exploration, each with their own unique views and visions as creators and collaborators. Lane, as it happens, was also involved in a long-time personal relationship with Nick Cave through his The Birthday Party and early Bad Seeds days. Reviews or commentary about her often relegate her to that unfortunate “muse” role, or (worse) slot her into some “girlfriend given a job by better-known boyfriend” trope. This has always been wrong, as proven by the evidence of others who actively chose to collaborate with her, and by the objectively brilliant differences that her contributions always made. And also, from the horse’s mouth, by Cave’s own reflections on Anita’s passing, posted here. Key quote: “She was the smartest and most talented of all of us, by far.”

I was pleased to learn that The Quietus had recently published a considered evaluation of Lane’s career, entitled Unearthing A Pearl: Praising the Sexual Mysticism of Anita Lane. Their premise, which I agree with, was that she was most creatively active at a time when the critical and cultural worlds weren’t quite ready for her, forcing her to pave a way for many artists who followed, without ever reaping the plaudits she deserved for her work. I honestly don’t think I can improve upon anything that article says by further expressing its sentiments in my own words, so I simply encourage you to read it as a most fine piece of music journalism. I sort of hope that Anita Lane might have had a chance to see it before she passed, too. 

I would posit that one of the finest visual examples of Lane’s determined willingness and ability to forge, shape, and control her own image comes in the video for a remake of Nancy Sinatra’s signature hit “These Boots Are Made For Walking,” recorded with ex-Bad Seed Barry Adamson. In the video, Lane is confident, sultry, sassy, sensual . . . while carrying and cuddling a baby throughout the shoot. Adamson, ostensibly the auteur for this particular version of that song, is relegated to smart dance steps and tambourine shaking in its visual representation. The short but potent little film turns expected music video tropes on their heads in so many ways, and it’s utterly wonderful in all of its subtle bucking against the established norms of the form.

If you’re not familiar with that song or any/many other works from Lane’s career, I offer a special memorial installment of my “Five Songs You Need To Hear” series below, documenting highlights of Anita’s vocal work, each song by a different artist, each one greater for her contributions. Anita Lane was a classic, in her own deeply-personal ways, and I am grateful for the small, but densely-powerful, body of work she left behind her.

“These Boots Are Made For Walking,” from Delusion (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) by Barry Adamson (1991)

“The Fullness of His Coming,” from Dirty Pearl by Anita Lane (w/s/g The Birthday Party) (1993)

“Blume,” from Tabula Rasa by Einstürzende Neubauten (1993)

“Overseas Telegram,” from Intoxicated Man by Mick Harvey (1995)

“Firething,” from Members of the Ocean Club by Gudrun Gut (1996)

Favorite Songs By Favorite Artists (Series Two) #31: Bauhaus (And Related Artists)

Note: For an index of all articles in this second “Favorite Songs” series, click here. For a summary of all artists covered in the original series, click here.

Who They Are: Bauhaus are (were?) a rock band formed in 1978 in Northampton, England. Named after the influential early 20th Century German art school and movement, the group includes (included?) vocalist Peter Murphy, guitarist Daniel Ash, bassist David J, and drummer Kevin Haskins. (The latter two are brothers). Their debut single, 1979’s “Bela Lugosi’s Dead,” pretty much invented “gothic rock” from out of nothing, in one quick “live in the studio” take, codifying so many of the looks and sounds of the genre instantaneously. The group issued four studio albums and numerous singles and EPs in their original incarnation before fracturing into a variety of solo and group endeavors. Murphy first paired with Mick Karn of Japan (the band) to form Dali’s Car, then embarked on a long solo career. Haskins and Ash formed Tones on Tail with bassist Glenn Campling, while David J joined the Jazz Butcher Conspiracy. A few years later, the instrumental trio at the heart of the group (Ash, J, Haskins) reunited to form Love and Rockets, who scored some pleasantly significant pop chart success in the United States and elsewhere. Love and Rockets eventually fractured, and Ash and J have since had long solo careers. The original quartet reunited for a new studio album in 2008, and have played some live tours since then, though relationships have remained parlous among them, hence my use of “are” and “were” to intro this paragraph; I’m not sure whether they are or ever will be a going concern again. Just before our Anno Virum, Haskins and Ash had reunited in Poptone (with Haskins’ daughter Diva Dompé on bass) and David J was touring as part of Peter Murphy’s live band. So for now, that’s the current (final?) iteration among them.

When I First Heard Them: Two incidents sit strongly in memory, though I am not quite sure which one came first. I went to see Tony Scott’s film The Hunger soon after its 1983 release; it was great, and its opening scene featured Peter Murphy performing “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” to thrilling effect. (Check it out. Bowie! Deneuve! Sarandon! Bauhaus!) Of course, in pre-Internet days, it took me ages to figure out what that song was, who had performed it, and where I could score a copy of it. Near that time, I was in the epic Oceans II record store in Annapolis, and a punk-speed version of Brian Eno‘s classic “Third Uncle” was playing on the store’s stereo. It stopped me in my tracks, and when it ended I checked in with the clerk and discovered it was from Bauhaus’ 1982 album The Sky’s Gone Out. I left the store with that record that day, and it remains my favorite in their canon. I spent the remainder of their original run scoring a variety of often-hard-to-find singles, EPs and albums, all of which moved me, in various ways.

Why I Love Them: While I was sorry when I read of Bauhaus’ original break-up fairly soon after I first discovered them, I couldn’t really complain in the years that followed, as the four of them continued to issue a huge variety of great albums in their varying solo and group configurations, some evoking the Bauhaus paradigm, some moving into completely different directions. While I can’t claim to be a “goth,” nor to particularly like a lot of the “gothic rock” that Bauhaus inspired, their original albums are truly great and distinctive and original, and they hold up really well, all these years on. They were dark, dark, dark, which certainly appealed to me at the time; I remember playing The Sky’s Gone Out at some point while at the Naval Academy, and a friend who was in my room studying with me stood up quickly at some point in the proceedings and announced that she had to go elsewhere, as the sounds spilling out of my speakers were evil!! Yeah, they kinda were, I couldn’t really argue with her. All four members of the band were talented and distinctive, and from their original “goth” foundations, they went on to explore a variety of styles, sounds, genres and approaches together and apart, ranging from the accessibly poppy to the deeply deranged, though in pretty much every case, it was still clear that the sounds were recognizably theirs. That breadth of approach and their interwoven discographies and musical family trees have kept me engaged and interested all these years on, and I’ll pretty much be guaranteed to nab and at least try anything that any of the four of them issue, ever. That long and varied approach to music-making means that my Top Ten list below actually contains a relatively small number of Bauhaus songs, since the “related artists” part of their catalog is as interesting (and is much larger than) the original group’s recorded offerings. I note the credited creators of each song accordingly.

#10. “Who Killed Mr. Moonlight,” from Burning From The Inside (1983), credited to Bauhaus

#9. “Hang Up,” from Lion (2014), credited to Peter Murphy

#8. “All We Ever Wanted Was Everything,” from The Sky’s Gone Out (1982), credited to Bauhaus

#7. “Crowds,” from Telegram Sam EP (1980), credited to Bauhaus

#6. “Burning Skies,” from Burning Skies EP (1983), credited to Tones on Tail

#5. “Kick in the Eye,” from Mask (1981), credited to Bauhaus

#4. “The Dog-End of a Day Gone By,” from Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven (1985), credited to Love and Rockets

#3. “Dark Entries,” from “Dark Entries”/”Untitled” single (1980), credited to Bauhaus

#2. “Twist,” from “Christian Says”/”Twist” single (1984), credited to Tones on Tail

#1. “The Three Shadows (Parts One, Two, and Three),” from The Sky’s Gone Out (1982), credited to Bauhaus (Note: Another possible cheat; these are three distinct tracks on the original album, but hey: one song title = one song, yeah?)

Favorite Songs By Favorite Artists (Series Two) #30: Van Halen

Note: For an index of all articles in this second “Favorite Songs” series, click here. For a summary of all artists covered in the original series, click here.

Who They Were: A truly legendary Southern California band originally featuring the Dutch-Indonesian-American Van Halen brothers (Eddie on guitar, Alex on drums), singer David Lee Roth, and bassist Michael Anthony. Eddie was (rightly) praised as one of the greatest guitarists of all time, and the original group were just perfect in their heyday (roughly 1978-1984) as an ultimate rock n’ roll party band, with hooks to die for, technical chops that left guitar nerds wiggling with envy and aspiration, easy-on-the-eye videos at the dawn of the MTV era, and an over-the-top collective public persona that always made them fun to read about in the music magazines of the time. Roth left or was evicted from Van Halen (depends on who’s telling the story) in 1985, and was replaced by Sammy Hagar, who fronted the group through another period of great commercial success, though the critics tended to be a bit less generous to them with each subsequent album. Hagar lasted about a decade before being replaced by Gary Cherone, who only lasted through one (rightfully) critically-lambasted record. Then Hagar came back. Then he left. Then Roth came back. Then Anthony was shoved out, to be replaced by Eddie’s son Wolfgang Van Halen on bass. That line-up released the group’s final studio album, A Different Kind of Truth, in 2012, and played the group’s final tour, in 2015. Then, alas, Eddie died last year, after a long battle with cancer. And that was that for the group, as he was its one utterly irreplaceable part.

When I First Heard Them: Spring of 1978, Mitchel Field, Long Island, New York, USA, soon after the release of the group’s first single, a cover of the Kinks’ “You Really Got Me.” The radio station I listened to most often at the time (WLIR, 92.7 FM) was not singles oriented, and their DJs usually played that song from its source album along with its instrumental introduction, a piece called “Eruption,” that is now regarded as one of the finest electric guitar solos of all time. A friend’s older brother was the first person I knew who acquired that debut album, and I distinctly remember listening to it at the brothers’ house, all three of us young aspiring guitarists suddenly feeling terribly, terribly inadequate as we processed the noises we heard Eddie making. I switched my primary instrument to bass guitar soon thereafter. Years later, when I wrote my long-form Best of the Blockbusters: The Greatest (Popular) Record Ever article, Van Halen’s debut got as close to taking the title as possible without actually doing so, losing in a tie-breaker to another titanic piece of ’70s album rock. I’ll let you go read that article if you want to know which record knocked it off.

Why I Loved Them: I wrote a bit about my love for the group in my obituary for Eddie last year. In that piece, I noted that the very, very best telling of Van Halen’s story and explanations for the group’s appeal were written by my online bud, Thoughts on the Dead. You can go here to read his three pieces about them, and I encourage you to do so, most heartily. Sadly, TotD himself passed away some six months after Eddie Van Halen, also stricken way too young by cancer. My thoughts on that are here. Eddie was obviously a transformative influence on his instrument, and David Lee Roth was a spectacular showman, but I do want to note that my esteem for the group is also based on the less-frequently-lauded work of Alex Van Halen and Michael Anthony. The Mike-and-Alex rhythm section was low-key but mighty; their signature pulsing BLOMP-blomp-BLOMP-blomp sound on the quarter-notes is as much of a Van Halen trademark for me as Eddie’s guitar solos were. Plus Michael Anthony was one of the finest backing vocalists in popular rock history; his high harmonies are absolutely essential to the sound of the group’s very best songs and performances. While I’m not one of those folks who hates or hates on Sammy Hagar (I quite liked him with Montrose; dig this if you’ve not heard him in that era), I can’t say that I cared for Van Halen as much with him as front man, and the songs just mostly seemed to lack character to me. So I was nominally pleased when Roth returned, and I liked that reunion album well enough when it came out, though it lacked that special something-something that Anthony had always provided over the years. So, probably not surprising, my top ten favorite Van Halen songs are culled from five of the first six albums by their original, and greatest, incarnation, with the debut disc dominating the proceedings. RIP Eddie. (And RIP TotD).

#10. “Panama,” from 1984 (1984)

#9. “Everybody Wants Some,” from Women and Children First (1980)

#8. “Hot for Teacher,” from 1984 (1984)

#7. “Dance the Night Away,” from Van Halen II (1979)

#6. “And the Cradle Will Rock,” from Women and Children First (1980)

#5. “Mean Street,” from Fair Warning (1981)

#4. “Unchained,” from Fair Warning (1981)

#3. “Runnin’ With The Devil,” from Van Halen (1978)

#2. “Eruption/You Really Got Me,” from Van Halen (1978) (Note: Yeah, I may be cheating by counting this as one song, but it’s how I first heard it, and how it tracks on the album, so I am going with it this way!)

#1. “Ain’t Talkin’ ’bout Love,” from Van Halen (1978)

Favorite Songs By Favorite Artists (Series Two) #29: Xiu Xiu

Note: For an index of all articles in this second “Favorite Songs” series, click here. For a summary of all artists covered in the original series, click here.

Who They Are: An American experimental pop ensemble formed in 2002 by singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Jamie Stewart, who has been the group’s sole permanent member. The group takes its name from the acclaimed 1998 Chinese film Xiu Xiu: The Sent Down Girl. Stewart is the son of producer-musician Michael Stewart, and the nephew of John Stewart of the Kingston Trio, who composed the Monkees’ “Daydream Believer” and scored a classic rock hit with “Gold” in 1979. Xiu Xiu are currently officially a duo of Stewart and Angela Seo, though when touring music live was a thing that happened in our world, they expanded into a four-piece format with Swans members Thor Harris and Chris Pravdica serving as their rhythm section. Xiu Xiu have been highly prolific since their inception, having released 15 studio albums and dozens of EPs, singles, splits, live and compilation albums. While their original compositions form the backbone of their catalog, they have released spectacular cover songs and albums, most notably 2016’s Xiu Xiu Plays the Music of Twin Peaks and 2013’s Nina, which explored and re-imagined the catalog of the late, great Miss Simone. Xiu Xiu’s latest album just came out last month: entitled OH NO, it is composed entirely of duets, with Stewart trading vocal and instrumental lines with a stellar crew of collaborators, including Sharon Van Etten, Owen Pallett, Alice Bag and a dozen others.

When I First Heard Them: Autumn of 2006, soon after the release of their fifth studio album, The Air Force. I had a subscription to eMusic, an early alternative to iTunes, at the time, which offered much better choices for listeners at the extreme ends of the musical spectrum, while Apple was still in empire-building mode with a largely classic rock and pop catalog. eMusic’s subscription model was to give you a certain number of song credits each month, and if you didn’t use them you lost them, so that routinely forced me to find new stuff to download, to maximize the value of my expenditures on the site. I don’t know exactly what grabbed me about that outstanding Xiu Xiu album (I’m guessing it might have been the incongruity of its cover art, featuring a medieval portrayal of a suffering Christ, juxtaposed with the name of a modern military organization), but its second song, “Boy Soprano,” grabbed me, hard, quick, and I soon acquired their complete back catalog, and have purchased everything they’ve released since, eagerly, readily, excitedly.

Why I Love Them: “Excitedly” was a good, if not exactly intentional, word with which to end the prior paragraph, as it is an apt descriptor for the ways I always feel when I hear that a new Xiu Xiu release is imminent. Each new project feels like an event to me, in large part because I (and you) never know quite what we’re going to get from record to record to record. There are pop-oriented Xiu Xiu records, and there are brutally extreme (lyrically and musically) Xiu Xiu records, and there are Xiu Xiu records that combine both elements, and there are (for lack of a better word) conceptual Xiu Xiu records, like the new duo album, or the earlier cover albums. There’s enough commonality of sound and structure and approach for listeners to know that it’s always clearly Xiu Xiu when they’re spinning, but Stewart, Seo and all of their earlier/other collaborators are truly deft at stretching the sonic barriers around their musical world to, and often beyond, their breaking points, without ever not being themselves, without ever lowering the exquisite quality of their work. That mixture of dark and light, accessibility and experimentalism, welcoming embrace and off-putting punch in the face often evokes and invokes COIL for me. And that is a very good thing, given how much I adore the work of that other late, lamented experimental pop duo, and how precious few other artists can aspire to, much less match, the quality and volume of their work over time. Xiu Xiu are also incredible visual artists, and their videos are typically beautiful, shocking, haunting, and imminently re-watchable little works of art. While I normally just link to videos featuring the clean studio versions of songs on these lists, the top ten list below includes some of their extraordinary small films (often NSFW, be forewarned), as well as a live take on my #1 cut. That’s one of my favorite online performance videos, sound and image glitches notwithstanding; it features an earlier duo version of Xiu Xiu with Stewart accompanied by Caralee McElroy on keys and percussion. I’ve watched this video many times over the years; Jamie’s passionate performance is thrilling, and the creative ways the duo use odd bits of technology (and housewares) to make a particularly strange and magical pop sound are truly sublime.

#10. “Cinthya’s Unisex” from Angel Guts: Red Classroom (2014)

#9. “Hi” from Always (2012)

#8. “A Bottle of Rum (Feat. Liz Harris),” from OH NO (2021)

#7. “I Luv the Valley OH!,” from Fabulous Muscles (2004)

#6. “Pumpkin Attack on Mommy and Daddy,” from Girl with Basket of Fruit (2019)

#5. “Pox,” from La Forêt (2005)

#4. “Boy Soprano,” from The Air Force (2006)

#3. “Wondering,” from Forget (2017)

#2. “Dear God, I Hate Myself” from Dear God, I Hate Myself (2010)

#1. “Clowne Towne,” from Fabulous Muscles (2004)

Favorite Songs By Favorite Artists (Series Two) #28: Public Enemy

Note: For an index of all articles in this second “Favorite Songs” series, click here. For a summary of all artists covered in the original series, click here.

Who They Are: One of the longest-running and most highly-acclaimed/respected acts in modern American hip-hop/rap culture. Lyrical prophet Chuck D and hype-man Flavor Flav are the sole permanent members and most visible faces/names in the group, though there have been a variety of core/key collaborators in their posse across the years, including DJ/turntable masters Terminator X and DJ Lord, guitarist Khari Wynn, singers/philosophers/media assassins Harry Allen, Professor Griff and Sister Souljah, The Bomb Squad production team (Hank Shocklee, Keith Shocklee, Eric “Vietnam” Sadler and Gary G-Wiz), and the “Security of the First World” (S1W) dance/support/security team. Public Enemy have always been a strongly political group, merging hard, trenchant messages with some of the most incredible beats ever laid down on wax (or encoded into bits and bytes). Since emerging from their Long Island homes in 1985, they’ve taken their messages, their styles, and their sounds to a global audience, with varying degrees of commercial and critical success, but without ever compromising their commitment to their causes and their communities. Their most recent album, 2020’s What You Gonna Do When The Grid Goes Down?, was an unexpected gem, one of the finest releases of their long and illustrious career, after a period of churn and turmoil when Flav was allegedly kicked out of the group and their future seemed uncertain, though they’ve since claimed that the announcement of Flav’s firing was an April Fools stunt designed to measure and demonstrate the ways in which the media market and mismanage their stories.

When I First Heard Them: Soon after their debut album, Yo! Bum Rush the Show, dropped in 1987. They received a lot of attention in the music press of the era, and they made me rethink what it meant to be a member of a musical group when I first read about and listened to them, as most of the people who appeared in their press shots of the era didn’t actually sing or play any instruments, in the traditional uses of those verbs. They really cemented their standing as one of my favorite acts a couple of years later, when Marcia and I went to see Spike Lee’s Do The Right Thing (one of my all-time favorite films) in Washington DC on or very near to its release date. That great film opens with Rosie Perez dancing and boxing on the big screen with Public Enemy’s most lasting anthem, “Fight the Power,”  just absolutely kicking!!! It remains the only time I can ever recall an audience clapping, standing and whooping for an opening credit segment. (You should watch it now). As provocative and inspirational as the song was in and out of its original context, it’s dismaying to think that it’s been 32 years (“1989, a number . . .”) since Spike released that great film, in which the climactic scenes hinge upon a black man being choked to death by a police officer. I guess I hoped, dreamed, maybe even believed in 1989 that things would have changed by 2021 in ways that such acts would be inconceivable, not commonplace. Nope. We’ve still got a ways to go on that front, alas. Public Enemy issued an updated version of “Fight The Power” in 2020, and included it on the aforementioned fantastic Grid album. The core riffs, beats and rhymes of the song are just so iconic all these years on, and I am most pleased that P.E. returned to that classic with a topical and timely update, involving some of the many talented folk they have inspired over the years. I didn’t think the original version of the song could be topped or improved. I was wrong. The new version is absolutely astounding, and you’ll get to see/hear it in my favorite PE songs list below.

Why I Love Them: Public Enemy hit all the marks for me. Their music has always been ground-breaking from a creative and critical standpoint, Chuck and Flav are charismatic and distinctive front-men who have helped to shape the ways that modern hip-hop music looks and sounds, and their lyrics are cleverly crafted and drop-dead timely on cultural, social and political fronts, year after year after year. Their influence is huge, but rather than just sitting back and reaping the acclaim that their historic stature and status accord them, they have continued to issue albums and singles at a fairly steady pace, pushing themselves to share their important sounds and messages, even in years (or decades) when it has seemed like the record-buying, political science, and/or critical arts communities weren’t necessarily interested in receiving them. Not much more to say than this, at bottom line: they make me think, and they make me groove, and I’ll always love anybody who can push both of those buttons as well as Chuck, Flav and compatriots do and have done for so many years, in so many ways.

#10. “Son of a Bush,” from Revolverlution (2002)

#9. “Bring The Noise,” from It Takes A Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back (1988)

#8. “He Got Game,” from He Got Game (Original Soundtrack Recording) (1998)

#7. “Harder Than You Think,” from How You Sell Soul to a Soulless People Who Sold Their Soul? (2007)

#6. “R.I.P. Blackat,” from What You Gonna Do When The Grid Goes Down? (2020)

#5. “Shut ‘Em Down,” from Apocalypse ’91 . . . The Enemy Strikes Black (1991)

#4. “Burn Hollywood Burn,” from Fear of a Black Planet (1990)

#3. “WTF,” from Most Of My Heroes Still Don’t Appear On No Stamp (2012)

#2. “Fear of a Black Planet,” from Fear of a Black Planet (1990)

#1. “Fight The Power (2020 Remix),” from What You Gonna Do When The Grid Goes Down? (2020)