The rock extremist of a certain age has as many bad days as the next person and although ice cream or SRI's can be helpful, I've always found my spirits raised organically when my iPod shuffles on to one of my Five Greatest Tunes Of All Time. These are the solid gold standards of rockular culture, songs so preternaturally wholesome and flawless that they can be covered by almost anyone with a result which is uplifting regardless of musical dexterity or emotional involvement. They are as tablets handed down by the gods that can turn a mediocre gig into a riot or swiftly erase the memory of some woefully indulgent self-composed nonsense.

1. Louie, Louie. There is little point in gilding its lily, whole books have been written about this keystone composition by Richard Berry. A riff of moronic simplicity and in most versions an indecipherable grunted attempt at the lyric, it has found its way onto record and performance by artists from Black Flag to Frank Zappa. Personal favorites include Iggy Pop's and The Kinks' and there is also something special about the author's own take wherein one can hear clearly that it is a song of love lost and nothing too depraved.

2. (Get Your Kicks On) Route 66. Bobby Troup's lyrical odyssey along the now deceased but immortal-in-song highway between Chicago and L.A. first appeared in 1946 and was a hit for the King Cole Trio. It was covered by all the big stars of the fifties before ending up at the core of many self-respecting blues boom era bands' repertoire. The Stones' and Van's version with Them probably were nods to Chuck Berry's but are textbook examples. Year in, year out there is a new version which never fails to bring a smile. Jason & The Scorchers take, enhanced by one of the greatest cigarette-smoking guitarists of all time, Warner Hodges, is a gem from the eighties and I can readily listen to any of Asleep At The Wheel's more-authentic sounding western swing takes. The song even converted me, a fearsome worrier when a band has no guitars, to the previously execrable Depeche Mode, the Beatmasters mix being the one to plump for on iTunes if you've a mind to.

3. Who Do You Love (with or without a question mark.) Ellis 'Bo Diddley' McDaniel's intent was more rhetorical, surely. The opening lines,

"I walked 47 miles of barbed wire,
Used a cobra snake for a neck tie.
Got a brand new house on the roadside,
Made out of rattlesnake hide.
I got a brand new chimney made on top,
Made out of human skulls"

always delivered with threat above the thunderous signature Diddley beat, comprise the most unapologetically macho introduction to any love song. Very little has shaken my belief in the now obscure 1969 version by Brit proto-Americana band, Juicy Lucy. Seeing Ray Owen sing and Glen 'Fernando' Campbell rocking out over his electric table on Top Of The Pops when the single graced the lower half of the twenty was one of my mightiest pubescent memories. But anybody half good has taken a stab. Quicksilver Messenger Service devoted half of their Happy Trails record to a live version. Jim Morrison is at his most threatening, almost demonic on the Doors' Absolutely Live using it to open the show. The Band bowed to it in celebrating their early mentor Ronnie Hawkins on The Last Waltz and the great Townes Van Zandt does a cheeky folksy version worth seeking out.

4. Goin' Down (sometimes Going Down.) Perhaps the most obscure here, like Louie this is not much more than a riff and garbled lyric but it is the trustiest warhorse in the blues-rock canon. Who knows much about Don Nix, its composer, other than that he fronted an outfit called the Alabama State Troopers or how the tune found its way into the hands of the Brits who dominated this genre in the early seventies. My first memory of it was the Pink Fairies playing it at the College of Education in Aberdeen in about 1971 but it turned up all the time in sets by bands like Chicken Shack, Savoy Brown and Deep Purple. It is not always used to bludgeon the willing listener. J.J. Cale and recently Bryan Ferry have produced tasteful, mellow versions that are very enjoyable. However my favorite take is to be heard on a to-die-for encore performance by Stevie Ray Vaughan and Jeff Beck. Axeman heaven.

5. Season Of The Witch. A Donovan song from the Sunshine Superman album of 1966, this first found a mass audience via Al Kooper's Super Session, but it had already been lovingly recreated in an extended workout in the UK by Brian Auger and the Trinity in 1967. I think that is the correct chronology. Only having a couple of chords, it seems to beg for a lengthy jam or guitar solo in its midst. A band who sadly were never quite as good as their covers, Luna, do a nice recentish version but my two favorites are a nine minute plus guitar workout by Richard Thompson which found its way onto the TV soundtrack for Crossing Jordan, and a cut created for the flop follow-up Blues Brothers 2000 soundtrack, on which Dr. John growls as deep and dirty as the Captain and makes his vocal interpretation definitive.

I was happily convinced that any of these tunes could be performed with a guaranteed level of success but unfortunately someone pointed me in the direction of Vanilla Fudge's Season of the Witch. Despite it's subsequently stellar hard-rock alumni they deserve a spot in a hall of shame for mangling many a great song and this may be their worst travesty. So, perhaps, back to the drawing board. Wild Thing, Boom, Boom anybody ?