Battle Of The Songs With The Same Title: "I Need Your Love"

It's funny to think about the process of naming a song. You want the title to express what the song's about, certainly. Clarity is king. And you want it to something that's easy-to-remember, especially if you're hoping for a hit. All too often we overthink ourselves away from the first, best idea we've come up with. So we're wary of that. Keep it simple, stupid, someone smart once said.

But that leads to a problem. There have been so many songs recorded already. So many titles have already been used. There are only so many subjects to make songs about, how important is originality in this regard? 

Not so very important, it seems. Lots of artists choose titles for their songs that have been used lots of times before. One of the bigger hits of the summer is a good example. The Scottish electronica producer Calvin Harris (who named his first album the cheeky, nothing-if-not-original, I Created Disco in 2007) has been a fixture in clubs and on the radio for months with his dancey thumper, "I Need Your Love," which features the vocal stylings of Ellie Goulding. 

There have of course been many songs with that very same title, or one very much like it, in clubs and on the radio throughout pop music history. We decided to do a comparison. How does this new, familiarly-named song stack up? Welcome, on this sunny Sunday, to Battle Of The Songs With The Same Title: "I Need Your Love."

Written by Foster Kamer (@weareyourfek) and Dave Bry (@davebry9)

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Remember that time Chuck D told everyone that, despite being a hero to most, Elvis didn't mean shit to him? There are more than a few of Elvis songs that could be presented to Chuck D to make a case that, even if Elvis did basically steal his entire act from black musicians, he also made some really terrific music out of what he stole from black musicians. "Suspicious Minds," for example. That's one of those songs. What a great song.

"I Need Your Love Tonight," though, is not one of those songs. The chorus is built around a doo-wop melody and a Chuck Berry-"inspired" guitar lick that's charming, sure. But it's also totally sub-par compared to everything it was inspired by. If someone tried to make an argument in favor of Elvis to a guy like Chuck D using this song as evidence, that person might get slapped, deservedly so.

Final Verdict: This song is bullshit. Fuck Elvis. Ace Hood ranks above this on principals of civil justice, alone. —Foster Kamer

Rappers who open up their own songs with their own names could be a genre unto itself. So go the first words of Ace Hood and Trey Songz's smokey, soul-sample driven "I Need Your Love": "Acceeeeee. We killin' em baby." The beat's a pretty derivative post-Kanye ordeal involving boom-bap over tempo-tweaked soul, as produced by Ben Billionz—in other words, not unpleasant or revolutionary, but generally satisfying top-shelf middle school dance material. The chorus invokes seeing "her" chilling at the mall, with a dress that fits well, questioning what her astrological sign is. Which is charming and innocent enough, especially when sung by both Trey Songz and Ace "Wakes Up In Expensive New Cars" Hood. By the third line of the first verse, Ace has compared himself to Mayweather (as in, he will 'beat' a vagina 'up,' with his dick) and later says he'll "bus' that/Yeah, shorty, like a Greyhound."

Final Verdict: Rhymes good enough to take seriously up through sophomore year. (Unless you're in Honors classes, in which case: Freshman.) Which is about as intelligent and unmemorable as a B-Grade pop hit should be. —Foster Kamer

It's fine, this song. You can see why it's a hit. The nice piano figure leading into the EKG-screen of synth blips. A nice, feather-in-the-wind melody sung in Ellie Goulding's attractively unadulterated British accent. The big disco beats. But it's also, well, it's just kind of there, isn't it? Not so distinctive. Like a lot of club songs you hear. And the lyrics, super-straightforward, of a sort we've heard so many times before, they're not doing a lot of work here, are they? Same with the song title. 

Final Verdict: Sometimes the simple, the tried-and-true, is best. But sometimes it's just gonna get lost in the shuffle.   

One of the very best American bands of 1970s, Cheap Trick succeeded in large part by going against the grain. At a time when so many rockers were indulging in the kind of overlong space noodling that would have put fans to sleep if weren't for all the drugs everyone was on, the great Chicago foursome focussed on tight, muscular pop songs with an unabashed respect for catchy hooks and just a hint of punk-rock snarl. Clocking in at over 7-minutes long, first appearing on the seminal live album Cheap Trick at Budokan, "Need Your Love" is a sort-of exception-that-proves-the-rule. "Epic" in a way that used to make sense before that word was rendered meaningless by 21st-century lack of specificity, and full of dynamic instrumental interplay, the song seemed to say: Hey, hippies, we can do this just as well as you can. And with a stronger melody and bigger changes and a better sense of humor. And Robin Zander's flowing blonde locks are more beautiful than yours, too. 

Final Verdict: One of the very best needings of your love ever put to tape. Very tough to match.   

This is why it's so dangerous to record a song with a common-sounding title. Listen to that teardrop guitar opening, the way the bassline winds its way around the insistant piano plinking, how that soft sax blows so muted, so tasteful and restrained. Hear how Little Willie John's voice cracks with feeling when he's delivering those words, so simple and basic and right-to-the-heart-of-it true that of course they're going to be used in a million songs throughout forever and all of time. "Listen to my plea/Bring it home to me/I need your love so bad..." And that was 1955. How are you going to live up to that?   

Final Verdict: The very sound, the very epitome of needing your love. Needing it! 

As far as songs about needing your love goes, this one is the gold standard. It's also one of Motown Records's gold standards. Opening with horns and strings, and then, harmonizing over slightly subdued drumlines, it's one of those songs that you just know the people at the label knew they had a hit on their hands. It's also probably the least sophisticated song on this list, lyrically—but don't let that obscure the brilliance in the full composition. The song's sweet, swelling chorus is something like the sound of Spring, of new beginnings, of brilliant potential. And the perpetually-convincing case for its fulfillment gets blasted through the melody like a cold glass of Coca-Cola on a muggy day via Levi Stubbs's stunning, desperate, aching vocal track. It clocks in at under three minutes. Few pieces of art that inform the way you hear everything you ever hear again after experiencing them take so little time to consume, and leave such a disproportionately indelible mark.

Final Verdict: If you don't fuck with this song, we don't fuck with you. —Foster Kamer