I'm Charles Holmes, the Ringer Music Show.

And I'm Cole Kushner from Dysect, and Charles and I are teaming up to create Last

Song Standing, a new show where we determined an artist's single best song by debating

our way through their entire catalog.

And for our first season, we're covering Kendrick Lamar.

We're talking good kid to Pimple Butterfly, Dan, Mr. Morow, the mixtapes, the Lucy's, and the features.

Listen to Last Song Standing on the Dysect podcast feed only on Spotify.

I am holding a sausage and egg McMuffin from McDonald's with cheese, either eating it or just holding it.

I remember its warmth in my hand, in my fist.

Mid-90s, mid-high school.

I will estimate the time as 7.15 a.m.

I'm riding shotgun and a Saturn driven by my dear friend Todd.

That's not his real name.

But Todd, for sure, drove a Saturn, a used, rusty, ramshackle,

slate gray Saturn, roughly the color of the dismal monochrome Northeast Ohio morning sky. I almost

remember more about Todd Saturn than I do about Todd himself at this point. Sitting here now, I can still

feel the Saturn's engine hacking and coughing and belching beneath me as Todd drove. I can hear the

engine going, this worrisome ascending chug as Todd accelerated around turns. Like he had driven a go-kart off the lot of a miniature golf course,

and the go-kart had swelled somehow to regular car size.

In ascending order of intensity, I remember Todd.

I remember Todd Saturn.

I remember the binder of CDs in Todd's Saturn.

...