This page contains a collection of music that I love, by artists that I love.
I've written some blurbs about the artists and songs and I hope you enjoy reading/listening.
I want to be as free as the spirits of those who left I'm talking Malcolm, Coltrane, my man Yusef Through death grew conception New breath and resurrection For wrongs, new steps in a direction In the right way Told her, "inside is where the fight lay And everything a nigga do may not be what he might say." Chicago nights stay, stay on the mind But I write many lives, they, lay on these lines Wavin' signs of the times Many say the grind's on the mind Shorties blunted-eyed and everyone wanna rhyme Bush pushing lies, killers immortalized We got arms but won't reach for the skies Waiting for the Lord to rise I look into my daughter's eyes And realize that I'mma learn through her The Messiah, might even return through her If I'mma do it, I gotta change the world through her Furs and a Benz, Gramps wantin 'em Demons and old friends, Pops, they hauntin' him The chosen one from the land of the frozen sun When drunk nights get remembered more than sober ones Walk like warriors, we were never told to run Explored the world to return to where my soul begun Never looking back or too far in front of me The present is a gift And I just want to be
Common is, I think, a great way to start this list. Staying true to his original stage name (Common Sense), Common presents us with a view from the inside. His broad range of lyrical and musical styles bring us to wherever he wants us to be and shows us what we may not have wanted to see: the world through the eyes of reason and intellect.
Unlike some similar artists, Common maintains the sounds of his culture - showing us that the rough edges of theAfrican American dialect are far from synonymous with ignorance. Common, for me, is a voice of reason in hip-hop, and he stands for the music and the movements that have allowed it to progress to where it is today.
"Be" seems to put together all of these elements. I can simultaneously feel his optimism and desperation. The music is in such perfect dialogue with the lyrics. The song is so short, but gets into me every time - I can't explain it. As the closing lyric goes: Never looking back, or too far in front of me. The present is a gift, and I just want to be.
[Kids] I know I can (I know I can) Be what I wanna be (be what I wanna be) If I work hard at it (If I work hard at it) I'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be) [Nas] Be, B-Boys and girls, listen up You can be anything in the world, in God we trust An architect, doctor, maybe an actress But nothing comes easy it takes much practice Like, I met a woman who's becoming a star She was very beautiful, leaving people in awe Singing songs, Lina Horn, but the younger version Hung with the wrong person Got her strung on that Heroin, cocaine, sniffin up drugs all in her nose... Coulda died, so young, now looks ugly and old No fun cause now when she reaches for hugs people hold they breath Cause she smells of corrosion and death Watch the company you keep and the crowd you bring Cause they came to do drugs and you came to sing So if you gonna be the best, I'ma tell you how, Put your hands in the air, and take a bow [Chorus - 2x (Nas and Kids)] I know I can (I know I can) Be what I wanna be (be what I wanna be) If I work hard at it (If I work hard at it) I'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be) [Nas] Be, B-Boys and girls, listen again This is for grown looking girls who's only ten The ones who watch videos and do what they see As cute as can be, up in the club with fake ID Careful, 'fore you meet a man with HIV You can host the TV like Oprah Winfrey Whatever you decide, be careful, some men be Rapists, so act your age, don't pretend to be Older than you are, give yourself time to grow You thinking he can give you wealth, but so Young boys, you can use a lot of help, you know You thinkin life's all about smokin weed and ice You don't wanna be my age and can't read and write Begging different women for a place to sleep at night Smart boys turn to men and do whatever they wish If you believe you can achieve, then say it like this [Chorus] [Nas] Be, be, 'fore we came to this country We were kings and queens, never porch monkeys There was empires in Africa called Kush Timbuktu, where every race came to get books To learn from black teachers who taught Greeks and Romans Asian Arabs and gave them gold when Gold was converted to money it all changed Money then became empowerment for Europeans The Persian military invaded They heard about the gold, the teachings, and everything sacred Africa was almost robbed naked Slavery was money, so they began making slave ships Egypt was the place that Alexander the Great went He was so shocked at the mountains with black faces Shot up they nose to impose what basically Still goes on today, you see? If the truth is told, the youth can grow Then learn to survive until they gain control Nobody says you have to be gangstas, hoes Read more learn more, change the globe Ghetto children, do your thing Hold your head up, little man, you're a king Young Princess when you get your wedding ring Your man is saying "She's my queen" [Chorus] Save the music y'all, save the music y'all Save the music y'all, save the music y'all Save the music
Nas has been around forever, hanging on the edge of popular rap music. His great effect on the field is undeniable, with many of the most famous rappers alive citing him as an important influence, though he is hardly as famous as many of them. He has had several moments of popularity but has failed to remain in the spotlight for very long.
There is a deep honesty in Nas's lyrics; a pain and struggle that he wishes to present to the listener. Many of his songs are depictions of life in the ghetto, or realizations or encouragement from within that life. Nas is, in a way, still fighting for black power and pride. I think he fights so intensely because he preceives very little change in the status of civil rights.
"I Can" is easily Nas's most well known song. The sample of Fur Elise would probably have been enough to accomplish that, but his lyrics hit home for many people, myself included. There are so many brilliant moments in "I Can" but at end of the last verse, in which he essentially re-writes the history that many of us are taught, he breaks away breifly and seems to completely shatter the common view of African-American culture - telling the "ghetto children" that they can move beyond their stereotypes. The juxaposition of positive outlook and negative terminology is exactly what I appreciate Nas for. He is an idealist, but honest. Clever, but trapped.
I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star To pray on, or wish on, or something like that I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy Whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had But then the dove of hope began its downward slope And I believed for a moment that my chances Were approaching to be grabbed But as it came down near, so did a weary tear I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills 'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb Looking for a little hope Baby said he couldn't stay, wouldn't put his lips to mine, And a fail to kiss is a fail to cope I said, 'Honey, I don't feel so good, don't feel justified Come on put a little love here in my void,' he said 'It's all in your head,' and I said, 'So's everything' But he didn't get it I thought he was a man But he was just a little boy Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills 'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love Hunger hurts, but I want him so bad, oh it kills 'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love Hunger hurts, but I want him so bad, oh it kills Because I know that I'm a mess that he don't wanna clean up I got to fold because these hands are just too shaky to hold Hunger hurts, but starving, it works, when it costs too much to love
Fiona Apple, on a completely different note, is one of my new-ish favorites. I think Quentin Tarantino described her best: YouTube.
In some circles she is almost famous for her anger, many of her songs being about failed relationships. But she transcends anger, with such carefully crafted lyrics that seem to introduce entire scenes with a single phrase. There is a degree to which she can be seen as a intellectual self-exile, with the heavy wisdom of a woman with the age to deserve Fiona's deep singing voice.
"Paper Bag" (video included) is an perfect showcase of her talent and beauty in nearly every way imaginable. 'Nuff said.
This is how it works It feels a little worse Than when we drove our hearse Right through that screaming crowd While laughing up a storm Until we were just bone Until it got so warm That none of us could sleep And all the styrofoam Began to melt away We tried to find some worms To aid in the decay But none of them were home Inside their catacomb A million ancient bees Began to sting our knees While we were on our knees Praying that disease Would leave the ones we love And never come again On the radio We heard November Rain That solo's really long But it's a pretty song We listened to it twice 'Cause the DJ was asleep This is how it works You're young until you're not You love until you don't You try until you can't You laugh until you cry You cry until you laugh And everyone must breathe Until their dying breath No, this is how it works You peer inside yourself You take the things you like And try to love the things you took And then you take that love you made And stick it into some Someone else's heart Pumping someone else's blood And walking arm in arm You hope it don't get harmed But even if it does You'll just do it all again And on the radio You hear November Rain That solo's awful long But it's a good refrain You listen to it twice 'Cause the DJ is asleep On the radio (oh oh oh) On the radio On the radio - uh oh On the radio - uh oh On the radio - uh oh On the radio
Regina Spektor is easily tied for my favorite artist (Jack White and Eminem being in the running as well). She is beautiful, thoughtful, quirky, and downright adorable. But beyond my crush on her as a person, she creates such wildly varying music, influenced strongly by her background in classical piano, and imprinted pointedly with her unsusual voice and style.
Nearly everything Regina makes is so visceral it plants itself inside of you, if you're willing, and grows exponentially with repeated listening. Some songs are forays into minds she wishes she could understand or experience, many from the perspective of men, and ranging through topics from finding a wallet on the street to being the fabled Icarus, falling into the sea, melted wax wings in hand, and facing the death at your own hand (a metaphor to modern society).
I had a great deal of trouble picking a song of hers, mainly because I love all of them, but "On the Radio" highlights many of her more prominent characteristics while still being a fairly normal and understandable song. However, if you like this (or even if you don't), I highly recommend checking out some of her other stuff on YouTube. She's fantastic.
The early cars Already are Drawing deep breaths past my door And last night's phrases Sick with lack of basis Are still writhing on my floor And it doesn't seem fair That your wicked words should work In holding me down No, it doesn't seem right To take information Given at close range For the gag And the bind And the ammunition round Conversation once colored by esteem Became duologue as a diagram of a play for blood Took a vacation, my palate got clean Now I could taste your agenda While you're spitting your cud And it doesn't make sense I should fall for the kingcraft of a meritless crown No, it doesn't seem right To take information Given at close range For the gag And the bind And the ammunition round This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact I can't stop falling out This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact I can't stop falling out I miss that stupid ache What is this posture I have to stare at That's what he said when I'm sittin' up straight Change the name of the game 'cause he lost And he knew he was wrong but he knew it too late But I'm not being fair 'Cause I chose to listen to that filthy mouth But I'd like to choose right Take all the things that I've said that he stole Put 'em in a sack Swing 'em over my shoulder Turn on my heels Step out of this sight Try to live in a lovelier light This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact I cant stop falling out This is not about love 'Cause I am not in love In fact i cant stop falling out I miss that stupid ache
Revisting Fiona.
"Not About Love" needed to be on this list, if only for the Zach Galifianakis music video. Apparently the two are friends.
But this song is, in my eyes, the perfect love/breakup song. The sheer honesty with herself and the situation she finds herself in is only exceeded by the cogency of her anger.
How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me. It's like a book elegantly bound but, in a language that you can't read. Just yet. You gotta spend some time, Love. You gotta spend some time with me. And I know that you'll find, love I will possess your heart. You gotta spend some time, Love. You gotta spend some time with me. And I know that you'll find, love I will possess your heart. There are days when outside your window I see my reflection as I slowly pass, and I long for this mirrored perspective when we'll be lovers, lovers at last. You gotta spend some time, Love. You gotta spend some time with me. And I know that you'll find, love I will possess your heart. You gotta spend some time, Love. You gotta spend some time with me. And I know that you'll find, love I will possess your heart. I will possess your heart. I will possess your heart. You reject my... advances... and desperate pleas... I won't let you... let me down... so easily. So easily. You gotta spend some time, Love. You gotta spend some time with me. And I know that you'll find, love I will possess your heart. You gotta spend some time, Love. You gotta spend some time with me. And I know that you'll find, love I will possess your heart. You gotta spend some time, Love. You gotta spend some time with me. And I know that you'll find, love I will possess your heart. I will possess your heart. I will possess your heart.
Death Cab for Cutie, like basically all of the artists on the list, is a band that is excellent at describing the world as it is. In the between their sometimes normal sounding choruses, they find a way to really get at whatever it is they are exploring. Most of their songs deal with love and appeal very much to teen-agers and twenty-somethings that feel emotionally exposed, wanting only for a connection, however brief.
The long intro to "I Will Possess Your Heart" is one of the most calming pieces of music I've encountered. I can go into it in any state and come into the first verse in a serene and hopeful state.
So if you're lonely, you know I'm here waiting for you I'm just a cross-hair, I'm just a shot away from you And if you leave here, you leave me broken shattered I lie I'm just a cross-hair, I'm just a shot then we can die I know I won’t be leaving here with you I say, "Don't you know?" You say, "You don't know" I say, "Take me out" I say, "You don't show" Don't move time is slow I say, "Take me out" Well I say, "You don't know" You say, "You don't go" I say, "Take me out" If I move this could die And eyes move this could die I want you to, to take me out I know I won't be leaving here (With you) I know I won't be leaving here I know I won't be leaving here (With you) I know I won't be leaving here with you Well I say, "Don't you know?" You say, "You don't know" I say, "Take me out" If I wane this could die I wait this could die I want you to take me out If I move this could die Eyes move this can die Come on, take me out I know I won't be leaving here (With you) I know I won't be leaving here (With you) I know I won't be leaving here (With you) I know I won't be leaving here with you
Blast this song. Seriously.
For a repetitive song with average lyrics, I consider "Take Me Out" to be almost perfect. The way it builds, slowly and yet suddenly shifting into another song. The same, but a more modern take on the concept. It's very simple, but there something about it that hits me right in the perfect spot.
I'm starting to feel We stayed together out of fear of dying alone I've been slipping through the years My old clothes don't fit like they once did So they hang like ghosts of the people I've been It's like my heart can't be tamed I fall in love every day And I feel like a fool I have to face the truth That no one could ever look at me like you do Like I'm something worth holding on to There's times I think of leaving But it's something I'll never do 'Cause you can do better than me But I can't do better than you [repeat]
Another Death Cab song.
There isn't really much to say about this one, it's a just a cute tune I've stuck with since the first time I heard it. :)
I was walking down the street When out the corner of my eye, I saw a pretty little thing approaching me. She said I never seen a man, Who looks so all alone, Oh, could you use a little company? If you could pay the right price, Your evening will be nice, And you can go and send me on my way, I said you're such a sweet young thing, Oh why you do this to yourself. She looked at me and this is what she said. Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked, Money don't grow on trees, I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed, There ain't nothing in this world for free. Oh no I can't slow down, I can't hold back Though you know, I wish, I could, Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked, Until we close our eyes for good. Not even 15 minutes later, After walking down the street, When I saw the shadow of a man creep out of sight, And then he swept up from behind, He put a gun up to my head, He made it clear he wasn't looking for a fight, He said give me all you've got, I want your money not your life, If you try to make a move I won't think twice, I told him you can have my cash, But first you know I've got to ask, What made you want to live this kind of life? He said there ain't no rest for the wicked, Money don't grow on trees, I got bills to pay I got mouths to feed There ain't nothing in this world for free. Oh no I can't slow down, I can't hold back Though you know I wish I could Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked, Until we close our eyes for good. Well now a couple hours passed, And I was sitting in my house, The day was winding down and coming to an end, And so I turn to the TV, And flipped it over to the news, And what I saw I almost couldn't comprehend, I saw a preacher man in cuffs He'd taken money from the church, He'd stuffed his bank account with righteous dollar bills But even still I can't say much Because I know we're all the same, Oh yes we all seek out to satisfy those thrills. You know there ain't no rest for the wicked, Money don't grow on trees, We got bills to pay We got mouths to feed There ain't nothing in this world for free. Oh no we can't slow down, We can't hold back Though you know we wish we could. Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked, Until we close our eyes for good.
Cage the Elephant is a band that caught me off-guard. They have some really solid songs that have that special something I like.
Needed to throw them in here somewhere.
They made a statue of us And it put it on a mountain top Now tourists come and stare at us Blow bubbles with their gum Take photographs have fun, have fun They'll name a city after us And later say it's all our fault Then they'll give us a talking to Then they'll give us a talking to Because they've got years of experience We're living in a den of thieves Rummaging for answers in the pages We're living in a den of thieves And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious We wear our scarves just like a noose But not 'cause we want eternal sleep And though our parts are slightly used New ones are slave labor you can keep We're living in a den of thieves Rummaging for answers in the pages We're living in a den of thieves And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious They made a statue of us They made a statue of us The tourists come and stare at us The sculptor's marble sends regards They made a statue of us They made a statue of us Our noses have begun to rust We're living in a den of thieves Rummaging for answers in the pages Were living in a den of thieves And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious And it's contagious
"Us" is another great song by Regina. Here lyrics are flawless, the music addictive, the video odd and entertaining; I don't really know what else anyone would want.
I love her.
Another ringer with the slick trigger finger for Her Majesty Another one with the golden tongue poisoning your fantasy Another bill from a killer, turned a thriller to a tragedy Yeah, a door left open, a woman walking by A drop in the water, a look in your eye A phone on the table, a man on your side Or someone that you think that you can trust It's just another way to die Another tricky little gun giving solace to the one That'll never see the sun shine Another inch of your life sacrificed for your brother, in the nick of time Another dirty money, heaven sent honey, turning on a dime Well, a door left open, a woman walking by A drop in the water, a look in your eye A phone on the table, a man on your side Or someone that you think that you can trust It's just another way to die It's just another Hey! It's just another You're nothing to me, die It's just another Shoot 'em, bang bang! Another girl with her finger on the world Singing to you what you wanna hear Another gun thrown down in surrender took away your fear, hey Another man there, he stands right behind you looking in the mirror A door left open, a woman walking by A drop in the water, a look in the eye A phone on the table, a man on your side Or someone that you think that you can trust It's just another way to die It's just another It's just another It's just another way! Shoot 'em up, bang bang Hey! Hey! It's just another Yeah! Yeah! It's just another It's just another It's just another It's just another day! Bang bang bang bang
Jack White is my idol.
I was probably at my peek of discovering him and The White Stripes when this song was released. The theme for one of the most recent James Bond movies, this song was spectacular in so many ways.
Written, produced, and performed by Jack White (with some Alicia Keys on the vocals), this song is not only a great Bond theme, but a shining moment for Jack White. It was the first duet to grace the opening of a Bond film and, as far as I can tell, only featured Alicia Keys as a way to market the almost complete creative license to Jack White.
Though it was received poorly, seen by some critics as out of the ordinary for Bond, I felt that it match the paradigm shift present in the Daniel Craig James Bond — a darker, more honest tale.
The video is also interesting, with shifting blacks and whites (watch Jack's tie and shirt), which I think further emphasize the new Bond motif: Good then bad; bad then good.
At the end of the day, Jack White is a genius in my estimation... one worthy of this list, and worthy of any others like it.
Ya-eee! Icky thump, who'd a thunk? Sittin' drunk on a wagon to Mexico Ah well, what a chump, well my head Got a bump when I hit it on the radio Redhead señorita lookin' dead Came and said, "Need a bed?" en español Said give me a drink of water I'm gonna sing around the collar Well, I don't need a microphone Icky thump with the lump in my throat Grabbed my coat and I was freaking, I was ready to go Yeah, I swear, beside the hair she had one white eye One blank stare, lookin' up, lyin' there On a stand near her hand was a candy cane Black rum, sugar cane, dry ice, somethin' strange La la la la la la la la la la la la la la White Americans, what, nothin' better to do? Why don't you kick yourself out? You're an immigrant too Who's usin' who? What should we do? Well you can't be a pimp and a prostitute too Icky thump handcuffed to a bunk Robbed blind, looked around and there was nobody else Left alone I hit myself with a stone Went home and learned how to clean up after myself
Speaking of Jack White, "Icky Thump" is the epitomy is of The White Stripes song's in my opinion. It displays Jack's prowess on the guitar &mdaash; most notably his abilities to make pretty much whatever sounds he wants (in this case an almost bagpipe-like electronic sound) and turn a phrase on par with some of the best. It was the last single that topped any charts for The White Stripes (US Alternative Rock) and the title track of their final album.
The video shows their humor, intensity, and honesty as well as the Red and White color scheme, 2-man/Brother-sister-band look, and miniscule stage setup that Jack White carefully chose as a gimmick to define and disguise the band from the very beginning. Jack wanted to play the blues, but he knew it wouldn't fly. So he hid it in the patterns of stage performance and electric rock chords so it would be there for those that knew to look.
He's an odd man, both on paper and in person, but Jack White is #1 in my book. Second to none, but third when it suits him.
I know a girl She puts the color inside of my world But she's just like a maze Where all of the walls all continually change And I've done all I can To stand on her steps with my heart in my hands Now I'm starting to see Maybe it's got nothing to do with me Fathers, be good to your daughters Daughters will love like you do Girls become lovers who turn into mothers So mothers, be good to your daughters too Oh, you see that skin? It's the same she's been standing in Since the day she saw him walking away Now she's left Cleaning up the mess he made So fathers, be good to your daughters Daughters will love like you do Girls become lovers who turn into mothers So mothers, be good to your daughters too Boys, you can break You'll find out how much they can take Boys will be strong And boys soldier on But boys would be gone without the warmth from A woman's good, good heart On behalf of every man Looking out for every girl You are the god and the weight of her world So fathers, be good to your daughters Daughters will love like you do Girls become lovers who turn into mothers So mothers, be good to your daughters too [x3]
I have a huge amount of respect for John Mayer. It may be a bit cliché at this point, but I think it's worth noting that he dropped out of the Berklee College of Music in Boston. As such, his techinical ability is undeniable. Any listener can tell that he's comfortable with a guitar, improvising, feeling things out. He epitomizes so much of what jazz and the blues are about, even if he doesn't strictly stick to those styles. But all that aside, he's a wonderful songwriter. The topics he brings up are so normal, so common; ordinary. But I'm always surprised at how involved I always seem to get.
"Daughters" is especially important to me. Not only is the message wonderful, but it resonates with my own desires to have a daughter and how I hope to treat all of the women in my life. In fact, all of the people I encounter. If I had to pick a favorite song, this would almost surely be it–the music, lyrics, and meaning being so perfect and powerful, so vital to my own self-definition. In my eyes, this song is the zenith of human creativity and emotion.
I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok I just want to be ok today I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok I just want to be ok today I just want to feel today, feel today, feel today I just want to feel something today I just want to feel today, feel today, feel today I just want to feel something today Open me up and you will see I'm a gallery of broken hearts I'm beyond repair, let me be And give me back my broken parts I just want to know today, know today, know today I just want to know something today I just want to know today, know today, know today Know that maybe I will be ok Open me up and you will see I'm a gallery of broken hearts I'm beyond repair, let me be And give me back my broken parts Just give me back my pieces Just give them back to me please Just give me back my pieces And let me hold my broken parts I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok I just want to be ok today I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok I just want to be ok today I just want to feel today, feel today, feel today I just want to feel something today I just want to know today, know today, know today Know that maybe I will be ok Know that maybe I will be ok Know that maybe I will be ok
Ingrid Michaelson has such a unique and wonderful voice. She writes songs that a four year old will love but others that cut to core. Be OK is one of the former-a simple song-but with elements of the latter. She has a child-like honesty that makes you want to trust her. And a perspective that forces you too.
Oh, and she's gorgeous, which is always a plus. :)
It's quite possible that I'm your third man girl But it's a fact that I'm the seventh son It's quite possible that I'm your third man girl But it's a fact that I'm the seventh son And right now you could care less about me But soon enough you will care, by the time I'm done Let's have a ball and a biscuit sugar And take our sweet little time about it Let's have a ball girl And take our sweet little time about it Tell everybody in the place to just get out And we'll get clean together And I'll find me soapbox where I can shout it Yeah Read it in the newspaper Ask your girlfriends and see if they know Read it in the newspaper Ask your girlfriends see if they know That my strength is ten fold girl I'll let you see if you want to before you go Let's have a ball and a biscuit sugar And take our sweet little time about it Let's have a ball And take our sweet little time about it Tell everybody in the place to just get out We'll get clean together And I'll find me soapbox where I can shout it Yeah I can think of one or two things to say about it Ah listen Yeah it's quite possible that I'm your third man But it's a fact that I'm the seventh son It was the other two which made me your third But it was my mother who made me the seventh son Right now you could care less about me But soon enough you will care by the time I'm done Just wait Stick around You'll figure it out
Ball and Biscuit is easily one of my favorite White Stripes songs. It's one of the few examples where the blues notes in Jack White's music really shine through. This is one of the grooviest songs you'll ever wrap your ears around, and it really carries you through the entire 7 minutes.
Though the lyrics seem a bit nonsensical, they are steeped in the lore of Jack White. He was the last of 7 sons, and has a record label called Third Man records (hence the recurring line: "It's quite possible that I'm your third man, girl. But it's a fact that I'm the seventh son."). He also has a weird things with threes-although the blues are often built on threes, so it's not all that surprising considering his style is essentially blues masked by the harsh twangs of hard rock. He may not make anything as complicated as the well known rock bands, but it all feels so good...