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This was Clipse's first hit, with Pusha T and Malice justifying the dirt-life corner-hustle because, when you come from nothing, why quit a job that keeps you in Gucci Chuck Taylors? In a world where the regular means of musical consumption radio, video, retail strove to keep 'em segregated, the Internet casually broke down barriers with just a click of a button. If that's not enough, they time warp to the 60s with whistling Farfisa and Murdoch gets all Ray Davies on your ass, moreso than usual. I'm also surprised how all-kinds-of-music dudes went from vilifying indie kids for not dancing to blasting them even more for thinking dance-punk was "real" dance music. Every subsequent listen to "Svefn-G-Englar" is an attempt to recapture the spine-tingling awe that came with first hearing Jon Thor Birgisson's androgynous falsetto-- too pure and angelic for this debased world-- as it emerged from the musical fog.

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