The Single of the Decade: Seven Nation Army

I’ve been trying to write this for more than a week. I wanted to pick one song, one radio single, that epitomized the aughts or the naughts or whatever the last decade was called. It was tougher than I thought.

I have chosen Seven Nation Army, by the White Stripes.

There are many songs I liked more than this one. There are songs you liked more, too. Your favourite single of the last decade might be something from Outkast, or Beyonce, or Nickelback, or Lil’ Wayne. My favourite radio-played song of that decade is Rise, by The Cult, but you know me — I like big bad hair.

What I was after here is a song — a single released for radio — that sums up that 10-year span the way Smells Like Teen Spirit nailed the 90s. So I prowled iTunes and listened and thought and finally picked Seven Nation Army.

Perhaps this is because I first heard it on the radio in the summer of 2003, while driving with my family into an isolated hamlet called Willisville, near Manitoulin Island. We wanted to climb the white LaCloche mountains, and as we pulled our minivan into a spot, this song came on the radio. No announcement, no preamble, just this strange, freaky tune, the likes of which was rarely played on Northern Ontario radio. It was the right song for a magical moment in a mystical place.

The next day, I learned it was the White Stripes; I had two of their previous albums, so when Elephant came out I grabbed it right away.

Seven Nation Army is a strange, strange song, and it had no business on Canadian radio in 2003. Guitar, drums, vocals, with a classic Jack White vocal performance, a weird cadence, a rhythm from the bottom of a Louisiana steamer trunk and a twist of pain, this is exactly where music was that year, and exactly where it wasn’t. It’s like the Whites took all the parts nobody liked from modern music, put them together, and made them work, while wearing matching outfits. On paper, it’s a terrible idea. On the air, it was brilliant.

• Odd coincidences: Seven Nation Army was named for singer/guitarist Jack White’s mis-hearing of “Salvation Army” as a child. When I was a kid, I mis-heard Manitoulin Island as “Man Go To An Island.” Also, the supposed bassline of the single is actually a distorted acoustic guitar; this is how we did bass in our blues-rap band in the 1980s. I plan to talk to Jack about this when we get together for coffee.

When I stumbled upon Seven Nation Army last night on my iTunes, I realized I hadn’t heard it in a couple of years. I don’t listen to it anymore. But when I did, I loved it … for a while. Twenty years from now, when I hear it played on an oldies station, I will remember that summer, and I’ll smile.

That’s the nature of a good single.

Keanu Reeves Says You Are Getting Very Sleepy

Does Keanu Reeves cloud the mind of others? Does he use his nefarious powers to force himself onto unsuspecting women? Does he use his shape-shifting ability to assume the form of a guy named Marty from Ontario?

No. That’s stupid.

This is what an Ontario judge decided today, but it’s strange that it took a judge to make that call. It’s the ruling in a strange, strange case in court in Barrie, Ontario right now, in which a woman claims she had several children with Reeves, the “whoah” actor famous for the major hit films Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, Speed, The Matrix and Feeling Minnesota (well, that one, not so much).

She told the judge she and Reeves (a Canadian) have known each other since they were children, had a long-term relationship and he was present for the birth of their children. She asked for $3 million a month in spousal support (retroactive to November 2006) and $150,000 a month in child support (retroactive to June 1988) for her children, now 25, 23, 22 and 21. Take a wild guess at the results of that DNA test: “Keanu Reeves …. you are NOT the father!”

Ah, but there’s a reason for that, she told the court: Reeves is a master hypnotist who can change his appearance and assume other identities, including the woman’s ex and someone called Marty Spencer. He can use those powers to change DNA results. Sometimes, she told the court, he comes and finds her at McDonald’s and uses his powers there. And she can prove it, she told the judge (she represented herself).

• Judge: “Okay, prove it.”
• Woman: “I have the proof. I just can’t show it to you.”
• Judge: “It’s time for you to leave now.”*

This whole thing is ludicrous. Really, if someone like Keanu had the ability to change his appearance and control other people’s minds, he wouldn’t be going to Barrie to make babies. He’d be at home shining all the Oscars he collected for the Matrix sequels.

* Conversation imagined