Genevieve Simms

Even a cursory glance at newspaper headlines (or, God forbid, network news) these days makes one thing painfully clear — we’re pretty much screwed. Whether it’s from environmental or economic collapse, an overdue eruption from a long-dormant super-volcano, or just the Great Old Ones awakening from their eons-old slumber to enslave and devour us all, there’s little doubt we’re all going to die — soon. And, probably, horrifically.

That being the case, the old trope of picking which song to listen to if you’re stuck on a desert island is out of date. What you really should be pondering is the last song you’ll hear before the Earth collapses into oblivion. For posterity’s sake, then, here’s what Fast Forward’s music writers will be listening to when the world ends.

PATRICK BOYLE

I’m on the running board of a U-Haul piloted by Slash of Guns ‘n’ Roses. He is driving dangerously along a sidewalk crowded with panic-stricken bystanders. In reverse. My right hand clings to the rear-view mirror for dear life while my left struggles to lift a half-empty bottle of JD for one last swig. Motorhead’s “Ace of Spades” is blaring on the truck’s tinny radio, and as the rays of the chaos weapon crash through the luxon field and annihilate the universe, Slash and I are sloppily raging into one last chorus with Lemmy Killmeister.

KEITH CARMAN

People have this ridiculous notion that if shit was hitting the fan, they’d be all serene like in Fight Club, listening to The Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind” while reflecting on their life. Get real. We’d be freaking out, screwing who or whatever was closest, crying and screaming our fool heads off. It would be utter chaos. To me, the fury and bombast of Napalm Death’s “The Silence is Deafening” is the perfect soundtrack for the reality of that situation: it’s loud, ravenous and almost ridiculous. But at least during the chugging riff, I could headbang and pretend to be in Dr. Strangelove, riding the rocket to oblivion.

PETER HEMMINGER

It’s tempting to go with something like David Bowie’s “Five Years” — the song is explicitly about a vaguely defined apocalypse, and captures the panic, sadness and beauty of such a scenario just about perfectly. But, then I’d just regret forgetting “all the fat, skinny people, and all the tall, short people” who’ve played a role in my life. No, just give me Lemon Jelly’s “Nice Weather for Ducks,” six minutes of bright acoustic guitar and joyous horns, with a jaunty refrain about ducks swimming in the water, fal-de-ral-de-ral-do. May as well go out with a smile on my face.

CHRISTINE LEONARD

While the temptation to linger on gloom and doom may seem unavoidable, a few unlikely and upbeat tunes could definitely figure large on my end-of-days playlist. Take, for example, R&B legend Curtis Mayfield’s universally appealing, if discofied, funk-spiritual opus “Move On Up.” Lovingly rendered by his backing band, The Destination, this exhilarating thrill-ride instructs the listener to cultivate inner stillness while pushing ahead, come what may. Indeed, Mayfield’s big “Move” entails not just crossing over to the other side, but ascending to a higher plain of grooviness and mutual understanding.

JASON LEWIS

Being a literal-minded fellow, my iPod apocalypse playlist would kick off with “It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” by R.E.M. The stream-of-consciousness lyrical approach is appropriately chaotic and the chorus hook is wonderfully upbeat. It’s not going to give me the courage to meet my maker, nor will it make me feel better about all the time I wasted doing inane shit, but trying to sing along will most definitely distract me from the tragic end I’m about to meet.

GARTH PAULSON

The complete and utter annihilation of Earth — or better yet, the universe — is quite possibly the only appropriate context for Japanese noise legends The Boredoms’ 64-minute “02 GO!!!!!” from Super Roots 5. Consisting almost entirely of feedback and relentless cymbal splashes, the “song” is damn near impossible to listen to under normal circumstances, but in the general chaos of life as we know it coming to an end, its seemingly endless cacophony would fit right in. When Boredoms frontman Eye rises above the noise to shout “Go!” he might as well be commanding Fenris, the great wolf of Norse mythology, to hurry up and eat the moon so the whole ordeal could be over with.

BRUCE POLLOCK

Just one song? There are so many. My main nominee is “Tango Apocalypso” by Boris Kovac & Ladaaba Orchest. The song combines two of my favourite musical genres, the tango and East European folk music. Notwithstanding its reputation and the myriad of jokes denigrating the accordion, few instruments have its expressive. The melancholy nature of the tune defies you to dance in spite of everything that faces you. I can’t think of a better way to spend your life, let alone to end it and the life of the planet. Another nominee — if I may — is La Bottine Souriante’s “Viens-tu prendre une biere?” Imminent planetary destruction demands the mother of all wakes. An added bonus: no hangovers. The lyrics, in translation, say it all: “We joke, we laugh. No worries, none!”