A moment on the lips, a lifetime whirling around in my brain

This is where the concept gets even more tortured, when instead of the best song ever all my mind can conjure up are moments within songs, memorable, magic moments (ho ho) that render the rest of the song obsolete.
Let me give you two examples.
1) Dusty Springfield and the Pet Shop Boys - What Have I Done To Deserve This. Now, Dusty is fantastic but the production on this leaves her double tracked all over the place, as though the "Boys" were suspicious of the longevity of her talent. Which is fine. Now, I'm a huge admirer of Dusty's voice but it's hard to admit that in a world that judges you for such an opinion. For many a long year it has been an accepted fact that in order to like Dusty you must be gay. Or, more accurately, in order to be gay you must like Dusty. I'm reclaiming her for the straight of the species, a bit like Billy Bragg trying to reclaim the George Cross from the facists.
And there is one moment of spine tingling brilliance on this song. All she does is go slightly deeper and spread the word "Yeah" out across a couple of bars with a little sexy quiver. I hear it now and it still works wonders. A great moment in an average song.
2) John Lennon - God
This is a pickle of a song. It starts with a piano and bass line that are warm and tender before descending in the pitiful repitition of "Here's a list of all the things I'm going to whine about now that I'm now well off and you're going to have to listen and oh yes I'm going to slag off the one thing that made me famous." So once he climaxes at his hatred of the Beatles, it is as though every venomous instinct is flushed from his body. And suddenly the warmth returns, the bass line returns, the tenderness returns. And there's a greater depth to his voices as well, before reedy and tight, suddenly it flows and right at the point where he says "that's reality" you can forgive him anything. Well, almost. Imagine remains a crime against humanity.

The counter is dead, long live the counter (when I can be bothered to sort a new one that is)

So, lets play "Guess the current best song ever".
It goes like this:
Guitar riff, old fire engine bell, nonsense lyrics.
Guitar fill.
Guitar riff, nonsense lyrics.
Guitar fill.
Guitar riff, old fire engine bell, nonsense lyrics.

Anyone? Anyone? Anyone?

Well, if you haven't guessed then I present you with what will be, for the next fifteen minutes, the best song ever"
Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except For Me and My Monkey by the Beatles.

When the title wont go to the mountain...

Bands should have to approach a committee before releasing a song that includes the band name. A few can get away with it. No, actually none can get away with it. The otherwise sublime Talk Talk released the single Talk Talk with the catchy chorus:
All you gotta do is talk talk,
talk talk talk talk,
all you gotta do is talk talk,
etc.
And I have no doubt that it dragged Mark Hollis towards madness which improved his music no end.
And who can forget the wonderful:
I'm a living in a box (living),
living in a cardboard box,
I'm a living in a box (living)...
Guess who that was by. Gone on, give it a go...
Other contenders springing readily to mind are Boxer Beat by Jo Boxers (god almighty, where did I dig that one up from?), Etienne Gonna Die by St Etienne, Bluetonic by the Bluetones, Madness by... (Madness, madness, they call it madness) and ABC got a bit near the mark with things like Alphabet Soup and A to Z. I'm sure you have your own examples.
It's a shame that Fine Young Canibals and the Pet Shop Boys didn't seek to release eponymous singles, they could have been revealing to save the least but on the whole, when it comes to songs it's a bad idea.
And the worst contender of all is the great imposter himself who had so many names he started to refer to himself in the twelth person, yes it's not only the Thin White Duke but also Ziggy Stardust and Spanners from Marks. Oh how we laughed Dave. Oh yes, I'm chortling still.
And yet for albums it's fine. Dave can name an album after the Zigster and it's ok. But a song? You pretentious merde. And then REM first IRS compilation was called Eponymous. I quite liked that. But then I was a teenager.
So, in the words of Nick Heywood, "Where do we go from here?" Well we go into the territory of the band with some of the coolest album names ever with More Songs About Buildings And Food and (this is where is starts to make sense) The Name of This Band Is Talking Heads. But the best song ever is not from that album but from their worst (in title and content), ladies et monsieurs, I give you an entry into the world of ballards. For the next fifteen minutes the best song ever is Dream Operator by Talking Heads.
After which it shall be uncerimoniously removed from my ipod and we'll never speak of it again.

My name is Kevin Rowland I’m the leader of this band…

"So, Kevin, two hit albums for Dexy's Midnight Runners out of the way, what do you think you’ll do this time?"
"Well, I was thinking about ditching most of the band, including the main songwriter, totally changing the look again and alienating a lot of fans by including a joke on the first song that a) isn’t a joke and b) will tell a lot of middle class people that they’re wankers when a) pop start isn’t really a working class profession and b) I’ve made a decent sum from the first two albums thanks to some song writing credits that I’ll subsequently admitted I didn’t deserve."
"Yeah but Kev, even if you don't take out the joke that isn't actually a joke and ignore the obsessively trite political posturing Kevin Rowland's 13th Time is still likely to be the greatest song ever, if only for 15 minutes starting on 20:00 BST on 13th May 2006."
"Excellent. In that case I'll record a bland theme tune to a bland BBC sit-com, disappear for a few years and come back wearing a dress with a covers album and get bottled at Glastonbury."
"I shall look forward to it. It'll give me something to think about whilst watching the end of X Men on ITV."

Good god man, are you sure?

As it turns out, I believe I am. And it's all because for the couple of hours the brain has been taunting me once more. Life finally appears to be settling down after a two or three week period of stunning intensisty and what sound is pulsing away inside? The theme tune to the Liver Birds.
No, really. I'm not joking. And so, on this Bank Holiday Monday spent doing very little so that I can go to work tomorrow without falling apart, I can (chokes) honestly say that (and I've researched this so I know I think I'm right) On the Mountain Stands a Lady is the greatest song ever.