The Top Six Most Dangerous Albums to Listen to While Driving

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These days, it's rarely a secret that as many as 6,420,000 car accidents occur in the United States alone each year - that's a person killed every thirteen minutes. Perhaps such statistics are too sobering, too staggering even to really comprehend. We've all been through Driver's Ed and heard the various causes for these wrecks: there’s drunk driving, of course - that’s always a biggy. Fatigue. Road rage. Fatal distractions.

But the guarded holy secret is the correlation between driving ability and the silver compact disc spinning in the stereo. Join me on this quest for solid answers as we examine the top six culprits; namely, the records that are most likely to cause potentially fatalities if listened to behind the wheel. Note: Do not try this at home, kids.

Alvin Lucier - I Am Sitting In A Room (1969)

I've had this album...errr, piece playing while going to sleep every night for the past week or so. I can measure its success solely from the fact that I've never been awake to hear the end. And I suppose I can stop right here – it should be obvious why this doesn’t make ideal driving music.

But it’s important to note that the genius lies in the fact that it ain’t really music at all - rather, the introduction makes up the entire piece. See, Master Lucier recorded himself describing his intentions clearly: to record his own voice and play it back into the room. And record that re-recording. Over and over and over and over, "until the resonant frequencies of the room reinforce themselves, so that any semblance of my speech...is destroyed", thus "smoothing out any irregularities [his] speech may have." Remember the game Telephone? Ever seen a picture of a picture of a picture? Lucier revives this intriguing concept in audio form.

Result: Driver will be utterly mesmerized by Lucier's voice, leading to loss of consciousness and instant death after slamming into an intersection, thereby landing the vehicle in oncoming traffic.

Important note: The words "minimalist composition" and "driving" should never appear in the same sentence. Ever. Which brings us to our next selection...

Steve Reich - Music for 18 Musicians (1976)

Important driving tip: Drones are always unsafe. In reality, there’s nothing sexy about hypnosis from yellow road lines, and this magnum opus from Steve Reich will put you at great risk. Like I Am Sitting In A Room, this record has found great success in lulling me to sleep. Essentially, Reich composes a drone based around elevens chords which repeat over and over through various instruments and octaves for sixty-seven minutes, utterly addictive or obnoxious depending on one's mood. Strings and xylophones swirl and evolve through a haunting, multi-layered fantasy-land. A fantastic piece of music, yet utterly unsafe for the road.

Result: Car plunges straight off cliff at 60 mph. Driver too engrossed in music to notice.

The Stooges - Fun House (1970)

I encourage everybody and anybody to immerse him or herself in the shocking proto-punk masterpiece that is The Stooges' Fun House. Iggy doesn't just scream, yelp and moan of hell; he'll take you there and maybe back. Who ever said art had to be pretty? But, please, please, please...

For the love of God, don't do it while driving. As if a law of modern science (where’s Newton when we need him?), two factors become inevitable while spinning this album: speed and volume. It doesn't matter whether you're getting lost in the filthy groove of "Dirt" or navigating the sensual saxophone farts of the title track - either way, that 11-level volume won’t allow you much of an opportunity to hear that meat truck’s urgent honking and the gas pedal will be pumped way too hard to maintain control in those precious, desperate seconds before the collision. Even the pacing of the album resembles an increasingly hellish trip into the unknown (ie: each song is a bit more unleashed than the last); don’t let this reflect your driving.

Result: Collision. Meat truck. Explosion. Boom! Outta my mind! Sat'day night! 1970! Rolling in sight! Radio burnin` up above!

The Flaming Lips - Zaireeka (1997)

First of all, if you're fucked up enough to attempt to synch up all four discs while operating a real, breathing motor vehicle, than I might as well quit here and swallow a live mailman. Please report directly to the Heavenly Gates; your Darwin Award is waiting, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars...

And second of all, Wayne Coyne, in his typically messianic nature, was kind enough to provide ample warning as to the dangers held within. For example, let's consult the album’s extensive liner notes:

"This recording also contains frequencies not normally heard on commercial recordings and on rare occasion has caused the listener to become disoriented."
or:
"This track should not be listened to while driving."
or:
"I envision this as music for a cartoon about a group of determined vegetables."

It's all true, honey. The record requires four boom boxes in one place at one time, the music itself is beyond the comparison of any other twentieth-century recording, both in concept and execution. But it just ain't for the open road, Harry and Lloyd. Perhaps it’ll be the disgustingly epic drum solo on "March of the Rotten Vegetables" that does you in. Maybe the descent into atonal madness on "A Machine in India". Or, more likely, those dangerously low and high frequencies during "How Will We Know (Futuristic Crashendos)" (the main cause for Coyne's thoughtful warning). Either way, the result will be the same:

Result: Disorientation. Specifics depend on the song playing at the time, but will mostly likely end with vehicle upside-down, adult opossum suspended halfway through the windshield. Strange things afoot in Oklahoma City.

Lou Reed - Metal Machine Music (1975)

Need I even bother? Honestly.

Result: Bad things happening to good people.

Wilco - A Ghost Is Born (2004)

Vaguely psychotic. Quietly disturbing. Slightly uneven. Mildly unnerving.

Something's off about Wilco's fifth studio album. Tweedy's voice sounds a bit too strained, the piano's a bit too soft, and the guitars gnarl and shriek with a hearty dosage of Neil Young-esque anxiety. It's brilliant, too. There's a quietly buzzing sense of paranoia, as if a sturdy underpinning; you can’t hear it, but you know it’s there. Of course there are still moments of undeniably fine pop songcraft ("Hummingbirds", "Theologians", "The Late Greats") tastefully mixed in with the brooding Valium-tinged weirdness. Fans will make no mistake, this is miles away from the Stonesy double-album shuffle of Being There or the pleasant country-pop of Summerteeth.

Result: Again, this depends on the song. Ten-minute, kraut rocking drone "Spiders (Kidsmoke)" will cause results similar to that of Music for 18 Musicians. The nearly 15 minute blur of ambient noise that closes out "Less Than You Think" could very well be a leading cause of suicide. "At Least That's What You Said" is far too gripping an opener to even be permitted - driver will most likely veer off roadway and hit side rail. Noisy transition between "Handshakes Drugs" and "Wishful Thinking" will cause sudden paralysis, obviously rendering victim incapable of operating motor vehicle. Keep in mind, people, trees are unforgiving creatures.

Note: I recommend the above recordings whole-heartedly, just provided the unsuspecting listener doesn't assume the wheel within thirty minutes of listening. Drive safe