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Crowded Table by The Highwomen, w/m Brandi Carlile, Natalie Hemby, and Lori McKenna (The Highwomen, 2019). Amanda Shires assembled the female vocal quarter for the album of which this anthem to inclusion is the highlight. Urbanism is nothing if not inclusive, with "a place by the fire for everyone."
Freedom Highway by Mavis Staples, w/m Roebuck "Pops" Staples (Mavis Staples Live: Hope at the Hideout, 2008). Written early in the civil rights movement, and recorded with a note of longing by the Staple Singers in 1965 when Mavis was 26, the re-recording celebrates liberation with unabashed triumph.
Mortal City by Dar Williams, w/m Dar Williams (Mortal City, 1996). Long, fraught tale from her second album about a young woman who's so overwhelmed by the big city (New York?) that she shuts down, only to come alive on a fixed-up date during an ice storm. More than 20 years later, Williams wrote an urbanist book, What I Found in a Thousand Towns [Basic, 2017].
No Woman No Cry by Bob Marley and the Wailers, w/m Vincent Ford (Live at the Lyceum, 1975). First recorded on the 1974 studio album Natty Dread, it reaches its apotheosis in the live version--long, majestic, and communal. Though recorded in a concert hall, it sounds like the crowd singing along could be sharing food around a bonfire.
Nothing But Flowers by Talking Heads, w/m David Byrne, Chris Frantz, Jerry Harrison, and Tina Weymouth (Naked, 1988). Snarkily humorous look at a post-apocalyptic world without the things urbanists decry: franchise chains, parking lots, and shopping malls. "I wish I had a lawnmower," but he doesn't.
Spanish Harlem by Aretha Franklin, w/m Jerry Leiber and Phil Spector (Aretha's Greatest Hits, 1971). Come for Franklin's soaring gospel-influenced treatment of this song, first recorded by Ben E. King ten years earlier. Stay for the enchanting lyric of persistent hope lived by the rose growing "right up through the concrete." The singer promises nurture and a place to belong.
Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits, w/m Mark Knopfler (Dire Straits, 1979). Away from the crowds and the tourist traps, the real city reveals itself in a half-empty jazz club on a rainy night. Six strong verses enhance the mood almost as much as Knopfler's flashy guitar licks. I still remember where I was when I first heard this song, appropriately enough driving down an empty street on a cold rainy morning.
Honorable mention:
