Staff Pix 2/28: Dive Bar Anthems

Another beer? Sure! Split your last one on the photo booth? Hey that’s okay… this is a place for loving hard and getting sloppy! It’s the dive bar for god sake! Throw another quarter in the jukebox and let’s find out what the Milk Crate staff’s queued up.

“Lazy Eye” by Silversun Pickups

This classic. My unsung GOAT of the ‘00s alternative boom, Silversun Pickups helped define my taste; I fondly remember screaming for my dad to take his call whenever his Samsung rang to the tune of 2015’s “Nightlight,” somehow always on maximum ringer volume. “Lazy Eye” is the band’s most well-known piece of work, and for good reason. The guitars and bass are gnarly, it becomes an almost psychedelic pedal-off halfway through. Brian Aubert grows more and more passionate, culminating in a bombastic wail as the five minutes eventually run up. It’s addicting, a magnum opus of tried-and-true indie rock. —Sofia Giarrusso

“Jumpin’ Jack Flash” by the rolling stones

Jumpy guitar, pure rebellion, and powerful energy… “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” is a quintessential dive bar anthem. Following the Rolling Stones’ psychedelia record, this song proves itself a raw and spiritual force of rock ‘n roll thanks to the iconic guitar riff that will have anyone grooving. “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” is timeless – a perfect rock ‘n roll song filled with the addictively defiant energy of Mick Jagger’s vocals:
”I was born in a crossfire hurricane/

And I howled at the morning drivin' rain/ 

But it's all right now, in fact it's a gas/

But it's all right, I'm jumpin' jack flash.”

—Heather Thorn

“Lonely is the night” by billy squier

My dad said we need “more Billy Squier” on Milk Crate, so I feel as though it’s my personal duty to satisfy that requirement. I’ve never been to a bar in my life (or so my parole officer thinks), but I can’t help imagining a dingy biker dive in the middle of nowhere only playing “Lonely is the Night.” It’s a hilariously macho classic, a metal-toothed battleborn anthem calling every lonely person in the world to drink together and then fight each other in the parking lot. It slinks, it attacks with hot guitar shredding, and it rocks your ass off. If I were inebriated enough, I’d probably stand up on a wobbly, liquor-slick table and spit out every word. Extra points go to Mr. Squier for being from Wellesley, Massachusetts, home to every rich person who still couldn’t afford to live in Weston. —Charlie Desjardins

“loser” by beck

Though this might be my most basic pick in recent Staff Pix history, it's a necessary one. If any song is going to unite the people (especially those frequenting a dive bar) it’s going to be Beck’s iconically ridiculous “Loser.” The track is inherently an anthem with a chorus that layers vocals and imitates the kind of call-and-response that can only be experienced in a room full of people. From “In the time of chimpanzees, I was a monkey” to “You can’t write if you can’t relate / Trade the cash for the beat, for the body, for the hate,” Beck is an incredibly witty songwriter whose sonically brilliant punch-lines make it impossible not to sing along. —Sophie Parrish

“Add it up” by the violent femmes

“Blister In The Sun” is a classic. You know it, I know it. As soon as that unmistakable bass line starts up, the urge to clap and sing along that follows is almost muscle memory. And I could have just as easily put that song, or any song off of Violent Femmes timeless self-titled debut, on here. But few tracks from the Milwaukee folk punk pioneers encapsulate the rough-and-ready earworm quality of their music better than “Add It Up,” the Femmes’ impossibly sing-along-able ode to teenage angst. Like every other track on Violent Femmes, “Add It Up” is defined by the Femmes’ rock-solid rhythm section, who provide the song with a manic energy and relentless groove that only serves to parallel the indignation in lead singer Gordan Gano’s words. And that chorus is unmistakable, even if you’ve only heard it once; “Add it up, add it up,” the band reiterates over and over, until there’s no room left for doubt that they’re serious. It’s gritty, grimy, angry, catchy beyond belief – everything that made Violent Femmes all-stars at college parties and sleazy karaoke bars alike. —Lucca Swain

“Mr. Brightside” by The Killers

Everyone’s shirt is soaked with beer, the floors smell like piss, and after a couple hours of sad attempts at dance moves, it’s time to go home. Then you hear that fuzzy 2000s rift, the second it comes on the once messy excuse for a social gathering has turned into a palace of drunken flailing. It doesn’t matter if you like “Mr. Brightside” by the Killers–the people you’ve been too scared to chat up for the past two hours have finally warmed up to you, it’s time to get off your ass and move. As you dance with your new friends, the lyrics trickle back into your head just as you remember how to scream the chorus word for word. It doesn’t matter if you’re a music snob or a normie, any social situation from a wedding to frat basement owes The Killers’ super hit a bow, for making their miserable party exciting for almost four-whole minutes. —Sam Shipman

“the pink room” by Angelo badalamenti

Way up near the Canadian border there’s a bar where you can get naked on camera. The prom queen’s here and she brought her dorky homegirl, they’re doing coke and finishing off the half-empty beer bottles as greasy-palmed perverts ogle. This place has litter bugs and bad seeds abound. So is the rough charm of Angelo Badalamenti’s “The Pink Room,” from the soundtrack of the late great David Lynch’s masterpiece, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. A song that frames the diviest of bars, music roaring so loud that the subtitles kick in. Laura Palmer has just enough time to spit out a few consequential one-liners before slurred guitar lines swallow her whole. —Nathan Hilyard

“fame” by david bowie

In Chicago, DePaul University students have a plethora of dive bars to choose from for a weekend outing. Lincoln Park, the neighborhood that houses DePaul’s campus, features a dive bar on almost every block and while visiting home for the summer I got to join in on that experience. My best friend’s boyfriend, a DePaul student, took us to Rose’s. Rose’s is cozy, features the necessary pool table, and is decorated with vintage Chicago memorabilia. They even had their Christmas decorations up; it was June. Nothing beats the feeling of putting down your second mug of local beer and spotting the jukebox hidden in the corner. Surrounded by the beautiful chaos of dive bar ambience, I flipped through the seemingly endless catalogue and landed on “Fame” by David Bowie. The jangly guitar, the buzzy bass, and Bowie’s stretched out vowels perfectly stand out above the din of laughter and clicks of pool balls. The laid-back energy of the track is the perfect groove for dimly-lit conversation. “Fame” emulates the orange glow of the lights, the musk of the seats, and the time capsule energy that exists in dive bars. —Izzie Claudio