Many artists treat the transition from one song to another as a subtle form of communication. When the occasion arises, they seamlessly blend two songs. The Grateful Dead specialized in this sort of misdirection. Many of their tunes locate and inhabit wormholes leading to other musical galaxies. For example, “Slipknot” evolved as a means to move from “Help on the Way” into “Franklin’s Tower.” Dead connoisseurs often say they get so lost in this timeless cosmos they don’t know when one piece ends and the other begins. Other songwriters don’t meld their creations but build their beasts as distinct entities. No matter what, everyone can agree on one thing: it’s difficult to know how to pronounce segue.
It’s “seg-way,” for those of you lacking time to Google. I know that, and it still doesn’t come easy. Can’t we spell it segway, for everyone’s sake? Would that offend someone in Italy, from whence the word came? Accommodations in language occur all the time. Didn’t doughnut become donut? My suggested change would surely be healthier than that delicious piece of deep-fried batter.
Okay, back to the task at hand. (I feel better, please send me a bill for the therapy.)
- Queen: No one in their right rock mind would argue with the way “We Are the Champions” organically and dramatically flows from “We Will Rock You.”
- Bob Seger: The Live Bullet performance of “Travelin’ Man” and its seamless transition into “Beautiful Loser” is, well, nothing short of gorgeous. It’s evocative and sweet, and it hits the listener on a sublime visceral level. Hard to beat.
- Beatles: It’s impossible to leave the Beatles off this list. But where do we start? The entire side one of the White Album? I hereby select the unsurpassed harmonies that lift the title cut on “Sgt. Pepper’s” into “With a Little Help from My Friends.” They serve as an announcement that we’re about to enjoy the archetypal psychedelic production of our lives, a statement the album lives up to—and surpasses.
- Grateful Dead: I like to cop out as much as the next person, but you could pick dozens of songs from scores of this group’s performances. Trucking on interstellar highways was the Dead’s specialty. They threaded the needle from song to song by exploring nooks and crannies in hyperspace, then building bridges between. Yes, they sometimes hit walls and got lost in gravity, but they get kudos for their improvisational skills and bravery.
- Led Zeppelin: “Black Mountain Side,” on their first album, slides perfectly into “Communication Breakdown.” It craftily advances from complex acoustic fingerpicking to an electrifying rhythmic riff that portends an ominous future of innovative, influential, and gutsy guitar phrases. Honorable mention goes to the dive from “Heartbreaker” into “Living Loving Maid” on their second album.
- The Who: I don’t claim to possess eclectic tastes or know anything about sonatas, jazzy jams, or operatic arias. It may seem predictable, but I can’t resist complimenting a band I’ve lauded too many times. Still, the manner in which the atmospheric symphony Quadrophenia reaches its crescendo can’t be overlooked. The six-minute-plus instrumental “The Rock” incorporates the themes, tropes, and emotions of the entire four-sided disc, driven by the shrewd interplay of guitar, melody, and Keith Moon’s distinctive drumbeats. It’s a magnificent recapitulation of the entire masterpiece, but it’s also a set up for the climax: the impassioned howling of Roger Daltrey against the poignant tinkering of Pete Townshend on piano through “Love Reign o’er Me.” A top ten musical moment in rock ’n’ roll history.
Like all of these discussions, this one largely reflects my taste. Let me know if you agree, and fill me in on the legions of segways I’m missing (see, I did it!).