Pickled Priest Mixtape: Our Favorite Songs of 2004

When I randomly picked the year 2004 for our next annual mixtape I didn't quite realize what I was getting myself into. In other words, it stirred up some ghosts I'd rather have left behind forever. You've had years like this, most likely. Years where even music almost wasn't enough to plow through it. Which, for me, is saying a lot. In retrospect, I needed it more than ever. I just didn't know it at the time.

PICKLED PRIEST'S FAVORITE SONGS OF 2004

SIDE A

26 "You Got Me Hummin'" | Reigning Sound

25 "Alone Again Or" | Calexico

It's rare a cover song makes one of these lists, but we start 2004 with not one, but two of them. The first is Sam & Dave's simmering Stax gem, "You Got Me Hummin'," here converted into a garage-rock ripper by fellow Memphians, Reigning Sound, complete with the original's tandem vocals, but now featuring some wicked guitar riffs throughout to add some needed horsepower down the straight. Frontman Greg Cartwright (also co-founder of both the Compulsive Gamblers and the Oblivians—what a pedigree!) doesn't fuck around here. He knows he's got to keep the song up to Memphis soul code, so he delivers a brawling, relentless version to keep his spotless track record intact. If you dare to take a shot at the Stax catalog, you'd better not miss the target. This one hits the bullseye.

The second cover is Calexico's take on one of the greatest songs in rock music history, Love's 1967 Forever Changes classic, "Alone Again Or." It's a natural fit for the Tucson, Arizona, band's Southwestern-styled Americana, complete with mariachi horns and an arid Latin vibe throughout. No, it doesn't top the original— nothing can—but it is a prime example of how to take a classic song out to the woodshed for some regional modifications and come back with something all your own.

24 "The Tigers Have Spoken" | Neko Case

Sometimes the use of the word "favorite" for the songs on my annual mixtapes is a misnomer. I mean, why would anyone claim a song about animal cruelty to be one of their favorite songs? What sick fuck would want to such a sad, harrowing song more than once? The answer can be found on Neko’s short yet powerful “The Tigers Have Spoken,” a devastating tale of a tiger held in captivity for his entire life until the day comes when he is unceremoniously shot dead while still on his chain. This is cruel, heart-crushing stuff, but Neko's vocal lends him the dignity he deserves and brings a serious issue into the light of day in the process. I'd argue the song should end with about thirty seconds of quiet space—an opportunity to contemplate your unease. If this song doesn't haunt your soul, nothing will.

23 "Freedom Park" | Marah

If any band has the local cred to sing about the streets of Philadelphia, it’s Marah, a band that would be as beloved as the Phillie Phanatic if all was fair. Yes, they worship at the altar of the Boss—guilty as charged—but they also have the smarts to carve out their own distinct slice of the rock and roll pie. “Freedom Park” is a gritty tale about the inner city and the lack of safe public parks, but it’s also a chronicle of their glory days, too, when families could hang out and kids could jump rope without fear of gunfire or drug dealers hanging in the shadows. In a neat trick, this song laments this loss of innocence, but also remembers better days with an exuberant, joyous chorus that practically explodes every time it appears. Try to deny it, I dare you.

22 "Walking With A Ghost" | Tegan & Sara

There is nothing that can replicate family chemistry when it comes to music. If you're identical twins, like Tegan & Sara Quin, multiply that chemistry by two. They harmonize and weave in between each other naturally, the result of countless hours making up songs up in their bedroom. During that process, they developed an equally unique songwriting style, too, one that is instantly identifiable. I do love a pop song that is immediately attributable to a certain artist in the first few seconds. When I first heard “Walkin with a Ghost” it just hit different. It was a relatively simple pop song, but it was also like a drug. I wanted more of what they were selling. If you spend five minutes reading fan comments on the meaning of the song, you’ll get countless interpretations of what it might mean. Hence, its “hit ratio” is very high with listeners. Which basically means that it resonates with people in different ways. No demographic is off limits. No wonder they quickly built a cult audience that counts me, let's just say an older listener, in its target audience.

21 "Conservative Christian, Right-Wing Republican, Straight, White, American Males" | Todd Snider

Coincidently, my first occasion to write about Todd Snider comes shortly after his death (December 2025). I can’t claim to be a die-hard fan, but I did admire his singular songwriting talent and his oddball sense of humor, two things I value very highly. While known mostly as a storyteller, songs like this one showed he was an astute observer of American politics, too. I like that the song provides two views, one from the left and one from the right, neither wholly accurate or wholly inaccurate. Either way, he gets his point across. People would rather take the easy way out with a cheap stereotype than risk finding common ground with a perceived enemy.

20 "Teeth in the Grass" | Iron & Wine

The most difficult choice on this entire mixtape comes from one of the best albums of the 21st century to date, Iron & Wine's Our Endless Numbered Days. As the title suggests, many of us tend to take our lives for granted. We piss away time (guilty as charged), assuming the days will just keep coming. "Teeth in the Grass" is a metaphor for tombstones in a cemetery, protruding from the ground, marking the passing of someone likely to be completely forgotten in a matter of years. The song is written with the structure of a Delta blues song, with stark banjo accompaniment, but Sam still gives quiet dignity to his tales of everyday mortality. One thing is for certain, and that's time spent with this beautiful record is time you'll never want back.

19 "Walk Tall" | John Mellencamp

If you treat your life like a bar room fight, you’ll die stinking of gin.

I hate when artists add a new song to a Greatest Hits compilation. It doesn’t belong there until it proves itself worthy is my opinion. It’s an obvious money grab aimed at getting fans to buy the same songs over again in exchange for one new song. That said, every once in a while, the added song is actually worthy of its company—a rare exception rather than a rule. I do feel, however, that John Mellencamp knew “Walk Tall” could hold its own next to his best material when he wrote it. From the very first time I heard it, I knew it too. It’s a great song—classic Mellencamp—one that calls out injustice and inspires change simultaneously. Not an easy task. The song acts like a road map for modern living, warning of snake oil salesmen, shifty politicians, and sleazy manipulators of all kinds, all while calling for the common people to "walk tall" and proudly protect themselves from a world full of ulterior motives.

 

18 "Story of My Life" | Loretta Lynn

I find it humorous that someone with such a storied past like Loretta Lynn could write a four-minute song and call it “Story of My Life.” Uh, I don't think so. If she really wanted to tell the story of her life, she'd need a box set worth of songs to chronicle it all. Here, she’s boiled it down, in the most charming way possible, to the major turning points in her life. It may be the Cliffs Notes, but its modesty is downright refreshing, making you want to delve deeper into her life story on your own time well after it’s over.

17 "The Deepest Part" | Peter Himmelman

Peter Himmelman’s songwriting can really cut to the bone; he is uniquely in touch with the heart of the matter and not afraid to go there wherever it’s located. His singing style is that of a thoughtful person discovering the meaning of life on the fly, one profound realization at a time. “The Deepest Part” understands that people grow, learn, age, mature, and evolve, but deep down our core selves have remained unchanged after all this time. We're programmed a certain way from birth and rewiring isn't always an option. Himmelman takes on such deep topics with a convincing level of emotional honesty.

16 "Reflecting Light" | Sam Phillips

The moon has never seen me before. 

Great line. But just another atypical specimen plucked from another brilliant Sam Phillips song. Such moments abound on her records: you rely and wait on every word, knowing you’ll need to come back later to assess its context for possible meanings. She’s a pop poet, able to turn a song inside out with a single turn of phrase and keep you around with an insidious yet unobvious melody. Baroque folk or sophisticated pop, it’s no matter. She’s just a person who views life on a slant, so even the usual love songs come at you from a fresh angle. This altered perspective is what draws me back for more. Yes, I know “Reflecting Light” was once featured in an episode of the Gilmore Girls, blah blah blah, and good on that show for seeing the genius of Sam’s music and bringing it to a broader audience. Personally, I’ve never seen an episode, but I trust they did right by her. Perhaps we’ll binge it the next time the mercury plunges below zero. If they have the sense to lock in on Sam, they probably got a lot of other things right, too. 

15 "Ready for Anything" | The Silos

The steady influence of the Silos on my life continues. “Ready for Anything” is a low-key affair, but its message has informed my existence since first hearing it. Always be ready for anything. It seems obvious, but it’s wise advice. It doesn’t mean you’ll know what’s coming, just that something is always coming.

14 "Bury Me With It" | Modest Mouse

While the champion track from Modest Mouse’s Good News for People Who Love Bad News was “Float On,” the album title was actually taken from that song’s sinister sibling, “Bury Me With It,” a track from the Dark Side of the Mouse. At the time I first heard it, I was feeling almost the exact amount of angst delivered by Isaac Brock during the song’s violent chorus. When I first heard Brock wail, “If my free time’s gone, would you promise me this? That you will please bury me with it!" I couldn't have related any more. I was in a continual state of battling time in order to pursue my passions. In fact, I am still living this paradox to a degree. Despite all the good news in my life, free time remains the one constant that needs to be in place or the whole thing falls down like a house of cards. If that sounds selfish, that’s because it is. But know thyself, I say. Each of us benefit from knowing what makes us tick and the absence of one key requirement can and will make those around us suffer in our disgruntled wake. To this day, I treat this song as one of my personal mantras, for better or worse, and have for two decades now. I can suffer just about anything in exchange for free time (to explore music, movies, books, art, and whatnot). Even an entire lifetime of unrelated work can be endured in exchange for it. But even work, as Isaac notes, is not without its explosions of sudden reality, “Well the point was fast, but it was too blunt to miss / Life handed us a paycheck, we said, “We worked harder than this!” And so goes life. A series of compromises, a constant battle to retain a piece of our true selves.

 

SIDE B

13 "Decent Days and Nights" | The Futureheads

12 "Take Me Out" | Franz Ferdinand

Two airtight little post-punk, post-pop-punk singles from England and Scotland respectively, each with enough gravitas to sound like they were cut back in the glory days of edgy new wave rock from the late 70s/early 80s. It's remarkable how fully-formed both groups were right out of the gate. These are amazingly professional sounding rock songs; well-written, tightly-played, perfectly-produced, and bursting at the seams with fresh energy. How does this continue to happen across the pond? One of the byproducts of coming out so hard and fast it that anything they did next was expected to match it. In both cases, neither quite topped their debuts. Franz was the more successful of the two, but the raw early magic was never as galvanizing as it was here.

11 "Chemical Imbalance" | The Ponys

Chicago's Ponys are among the most underrated bands of the aughts. In fact, that's the only decade in which they operated, so that's good timing. I do wish we'd see a reunion. And if I missed it, then another one. They combined Stones-worthy riffs with a vocalist that sounded like he'd gone off his meds months ago and was doing his best to keep his shit together. "Chemical Imbalance" puts his agitation to music in convincing fashion.

10 "Remember Today" | The Thermals

That nerd from third-period biology made a record with his band in 2004 and it featured a new kind of intelligent punk for a dawning century. For the most part, the Thermals were contained within the boundaries of the 00s and they made the most of their time together. When the band debuted in 2003 with More Parts Per Million, they came out of the gate writing miniature anthems aimed at a generation of impressionable kids with shorter attention spans than ever before. Oh, and the occasional older guy like me, too, of course. Singer-songwriter Hutch Harris was the band's compelling frontman, uniquely qualified to rip off short, sharp lyrics that were both quotable and poignant, barely stopping to take a breath between songs. The Thermals possessed a raw, self-propelled energy that was infectious. In concert, each song segued into the next like a row of dominoes until the band pretty much exhausted all of their material. Show over. It was thrilling to watch. For their second album, one wondered if they could capture the same magic. On Fuckin A, they did and even got a little more ambitious in the process without losing that X-factor quality that made their first record such a revelation. "Remember Today" was deceptively deep if you stopped the adrenalin buzz long enough to focus on the lyrics.

09 "The Setup" | Mission of Burma

There were others, but Mission of Burma's unlikely return after a long hiatus in 2004 still ranks with the most successful band comebacks in rock and roll history. Granted, not everyone knew who this Boston post-punk band was when they returned, but those who did were dumbfounded at how amazing they still sounded, losing not a step from their original heyday in the early 80s. What was even more amazing is that the band only had a few singles, an EP, and one full-length album to begin with, so a reunion wasn't even on anyone's radar. The new record in question, appropriately title OnOFFOn, kept up the quality of the group's best songs and could stand right next to them in a setlist with no slippage at all. "The Setup" was an instant new classic from the get-go, asking some hard questions like "Why do I / Act this way?" without providing any answers. I do love a vague anthem and this is one of my personal favorites.

08 "Breathe Me" | Sia

Like many, I first heard this gorgeous song at the end of the series finale of Six Feet Under, one of my favorite TV shows ever. It was a brilliant complement as the dramatic final scenes played out. I mean, if you haven't seen it yet, you must. Sia wasn't a star at the time, but "Breathe Me" put her on the map. Then, through deft management of her mysterious image and unique pop sensibility, she stayed there. "Breathe Me" is one of those songs that should be much longer than it is. It feels longer, too. It's one of those songs that will make you think about your past, assess your present, and contemplate your future. What will my legacy be? What am I doing with my life? When will my number come up? Will I be remembered? This song is an emotional catalyst. So let it do its job.

07 "Don't Take Me for Granted" | Social Distortion 

There's something particularly powerful when a punk rocker lets their guard down for a moment and allows us to see their more human, vulnerable side. That happened in 2004 when Mike Ness wrote "Don't Take Me for Granted" for the late Dennis Danell, his closest friend and Social Distortion co-founder, who died at 38 in February of 2000. The song recounts the myriad ways love manifests itself through objects, milestones, music, memories, and mutual experiences. For that reason, this song really gets through to me. I don’t want to be taken for granted and I don’t want to take others for granted. And I certainly don’t take music for granted. I'm a person plagued to look at pretty much every moment of my life through a musical lens and this song hits like a punch in the gut. You’d think all of this would add up to a ballad, but Ness adds his trademarked snarl into the song and lets it rip just as Dennis would’ve wanted it.

06 "Slow Hands" | Interpol

I submit my intention is romance…

I wonder if that lyric would work as a pick-up line? I guess I'll never know, but it strikes me as a pretty good one. Who could resist? Were you one of those who jumped off the Interpol bandwagon after 2002's breakout album, Turn On the Bright Lights? I submit that wasn’t a good idea. Yes, 2004's Antics had the unenviable task of following that breakthrough record, so it wasn't surprising when it had less impact than their gangbusters debut. That was a given. Very rarely does lightning strike twice in such a short time and the trend-chasing public is fickle as fuck. But make no mistake, Antics is a killer record packed with dark, brooding singles for Paul Banks to bellow in the corner of a New York subway platform. "Slow Hands" was the main attraction on the record, as good a straight rocker as the band ever recorded. There’s nothing quite like a romance set in a bustling metropolis, where the odds of finding and keeping someone are highly unlikely—this song delivers that anxious feeling like few others. Of course, the odds go way up if you have a line like this one in your back pocket...

You make me want to pick up a guitar / And celebrate the myriad ways that I love you

05 "Staring at the Sun" | TV on the Radio

I am not above cheating to find a way to get a song on a mixtape. Technically, "Staring at the Sun" was first released on the band's Young Liars EP in 2003, but I had already put its title-track on my 2003 mixtape, leaving this great song out in the cold. Thankfully, as new bands will sometimes do, they re-recorded it for their first full-length, Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes, so we exploit that loophole here, tax free no less.

04 "Starlite" | Young Heart Attack

Real rock & roll from Austin, Texas! Yeehaw! Young Heart Attack tapped into the spirit of classic rock on their only album, Mouthful of Love, but never forgot to bring something new and vital to the equation. The whole album was a blast of big bong fun, with "Starlite" leading the way behind an audacious opening homage to the synth line from the Who’s "Won't Get Fooled Again." Wait, come again? I know, I know, but trust me, it works brilliantly, the perfect delirious entry into a balls-to-the-wall rocker that I refuse to let fall off the world’s radar. Far from just a novelty, the song is all Young Heart Attack from that point forward, swerving into a wild, big-rock onslaught complete with wailing tandem vocals (you can almost feel the spit on your face) and a left-hook guitar crunch that’ll put a smile on your face guaranteed. Get the stick out of your ass and crank your volume knob clockwise.

03 "Got Carried Away" | Trashcan Sinatras

Ironically, nothing about this song gets carried away. Everything stays in its proper place, never threatening for a moment to break through a levee or overflow its banks. It keeps the same wistful, melancholic tone throughout, while still managing to captivate with the beauty of a gently flowing river. The Scottish band first emerged at the absolute worst time, right in the middle of the alternative/grunge explosion, but many of us never stopped looking for breathtaking pop songs to beautify the piles of discarded hair metal CDs strewn everywhere. The Sinatras tucked "Got Carried Away" inside their third full-length LP, Weightlifting, and the title was indicative of the songs effect on me at the time. It was my beast of burden.  

02 "Nature Boy" | Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

I was just a boy when I sat down

To watch the news on TV

I saw some ordinary slaughter

I saw some routine atrocity

My father said, don’t look away

You got to be strong, you got to be bold, now

He said, that in the end it is beauty

That is going to save the world, now

My father wasn't spewing chestnuts like this around our house, I can tell you that much. I feel like I could've used some solid advice akin to this when I was young lad. Oh well. One could point to “Nature Boy” as quintessential Nick Cave, with lyrics that acknowledge the cruelty of the world while also finding the beauty within it. It’s all right there in the chosen pull quote, and it’s quite profound at that. The rest of the song is a poetic narrative, one that is also objectively hilarious as we find a young Cave clearly out of his romantic depth, “You took me back to your place / And dressed me up in a deep sea diver’s suit.” This is just how events unfold when you’re Nick Cave. What a charmed existence. The song comes from Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus, a double-LP that ranks among Cave’s many masterpieces (at least one in every decade since the 80s). The song also features one of Nick's most indelible choruses ever, so it’s the perfect choice for a mixtape. I don't know if it will save the world, but there's no denying its ambition.    

01 "Fortress" | Pinback

The reasons behind my selection of “Fortress” in the #1 slot on this mixtape have been redacted. Not all stories need to be told. And it’s not because I have ties to Jeffrey Epstein, either. This Priest is pious, I assure you. I’m sure you have some highly personal songs that have run parallel with, or helped you get beyond, challenging times in your past. Or have you run the table on this life, unmolested by grief and heartbreak the entire time? I wish you nothing but that kind of luck, but this song means the world to me. In fact, Pinback's soothingly precise music has a positive effect on my mental state. I turn to it whenever there's a need to escape my own thoughts. It occupies space in my brain without overwhelming it. When I cannot afford to totally detach, I look to music to step in and temper the intensity of the situation. How many songs can do that?

______________________________________

Back to the 20th Century we go. And not a moment too soon.

Cheers,

The Priest