To date, Madonna has released 75 singles across 13 albums, four soundtrack albums, and six compilation albums, with “Give Me All Your Luvin’” (from the upcoming LP MDNA) being her latest. She has had 12 number-one hits in both the United States and the United Kingdom (with different sets of songs), plus 24 chart-toppers in Canada, and 38 US, 60 UK, and 49 Canadian Top 10 hits. Madonna has dominated the radio and video airwaves for quite some time, and although the moniker of “King of Pop” is firmly affixed to Michael Jackson, “Queen of Pop” gets bounced around to every new fluffy pop tartlet who claims to integrate music and fashion like it’s something that’s never been done before

Deer Tick: transmitter of Lyme Disease or a brotherhood of musicians with a penchant for rock ‘n’ roll and cheap beer? It may have started off as a disease, but since 2004 Deer Tick has represented singer/song writer John McCauley of Providence, Rhode Island. Originally a solo project specializing in East-Coast Americana rock with an indie-folk glaze, Deer Tick has gradually evolved into a full five-piece band with somewhat of a split personality.

Deer Tick’s first three studio albums carried alt-country tones complete with guts, grime, and a knack for solid songwriting. Live the group became a raucous rock band whose music grabbed fans by the collar to kiss them, then spray in the face with beer. Then in 2011 Deer Tick released its fourth studio album Divine Providence, which encapsulated everything from its past mixed with its live rambunctious self.

It’s fitting that the most recognizable samples from “The Sounds of Science” come from the Beatles’ catalog. On this tune, the Beasties are experimenting with form and pushing the boundaries of their genre in a similar manner as the Fab Four did in the second half of their career. “The Sounds of Science” is essentially a three-movement suite about hip-hop bravado, and rarely has science sounded hipper.

The central conceit of “The Sound of Science” is that the Beasties’ music and personae are like great scientific discoveries that might not be appreciated at the time (“No one really knows what I’m talking about”) but will someday be celebrated as ingenious. Sure, it’s arrogant as can be. It’s also pretty prescient.

Mendelsohn: John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme marks only the second jazz album we’ve encountered on the Great List. The last one we worked over was Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue, and in the intervening weeks I’ve done absolutely no work toward learning how to listen to jazz. My attempts at doing so in the past were also a failure—I received a D when I took a Jazz class my freshman year of college. How hard could it be, I thought? All you have to do is listen to jazz.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the free-form expressionist tendencies that come skittering off this record, but if we’re going to talk about chord structures, odd time signatures, and modality, please don’t be offended when my eyes glass over and I go to my happy place, which, for your information, is a rock concert where all of my favorite bands battle monsters with the power of their rock and roll.

A genuine American icon has left the planet.  People born during or after the ‘80s might know Soul Train creator and host Don Cornelius mostly from name-checks in interviews, songs, and clips on YouTube. And there is nothing wrong with that. But for us older folks, we knew the man. Some of us grew up with him.

If a picture can sometimes speak more eloquently than words, a video can function as a truth bomb that tells you all you need to know. Check it out:

I only have a handful of comments. The Hair. The Glasses. The Shirt. The Pants (did you see those Liberty Bell Bottoms flowing when he moved up that line?). And The VOICE.