Previously:
100-91,
90-81,
80-71,
70-61,
60-51,
50-41,
40-31
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30. Local Natives - Mt. Washington
Like we heard with Three Months back at #71, Local Natives chose to explore the more serious, emotional side of their music on Hummingbird. On Mt. Washington, Taylor Rice sounds more pained than he ever has. The build-up from complete minimalism to a mesh of comforting sounds (one guitar, to piano, to a heartstring-plucking electric guitar, to a slow fade in of drum pounds) only serves to enhance Rice's vocal emotion. There's something in this song about separation and distance - literal or otherwise - and the resigned refrain of "I don't have to see you right now" certainly sounds less than assured. On an unrelated note, the line of "Lazy summer goddess / you can tell the whole empire" is one of the prettier lines in any song this year.
29. The Joy Formidable - This Ladder Is Ours
Ritzy Bryan is an indomitable frontwoman. She's well-known for putting on a terrific show whenever The Joy Formidable tour, but some of that has to be felt in the recordings themselves; you can't be held in this high favor on reputation alone. And she and the band deliver on Wolf's Law's opening track, a scorcher with a perfect orchestral introduction build and straight-ahead rock attitude. It's also got one of my favorite rock song characteristics (I don't know its technical name, so pardon the description): three bass drum hits followed by a snare to round off the set of four. It gives every song a punch, and here, behind Bryan's simple-but-smart guitar part, it works great as part of a team.
28. Cults - I Can Hardly Make You Mine
Cults' first album never really got aggressive. What it did, it did well, but that was restricted to dreamy, bouncy indie pop. Here, things take a turn for the slightly darker. Madeline Follin's voice is still impossible to classify as "dark," but there's a mood to the music that didn't exist on the self-titled debut. And it's interesting to hear it play here, because those dreamy/bouncy elements remain very much in play. The power, as it fits into the certainly well-established pattern by this point, comes from the chorus, where Follin cranks out some notes and the drums take on a completely new beat. It's a curveball that nearly transforms the song into a completely new one, but there's enough of a common thread that it all still feels cohesive.
27. Radiator Hospital - Our Song
I remember the first time I heard The White Stripes' Fell In Love With a Girl. At least, I remember how it struck me. It got started immediately, stampeded ahead without stopping and was over before I realized I had breath to catch. Our Song isn't as good a song and won't be hailed as a classic, but that's as faint a slight I could give, given the competition. It follows, roughly, that same pattern: Sam Cook-Parrott comes in wailing, and drums and guitars (that, fittingly enough, give off that same White Stripes vibe) follow suit in short order. It's aggressive but vulnerable, with lyrics on the cusp of heartbreak, and it's over in just 2:15. It can't go any longer; Cook-Parrott sounds exhausted by the song's final line.
26. Icona Pop - Light Me Up
Yeah, I'm sick of I Love It, too. It was one of my favorite tracks from last year, when it was part of a fun but seemingly unassuming EP that turned into an every-hour radio hit. Light Me Up, though, gives novel energy back to the band name, with a swooping, soaring chorus that doesn't quite let this song into dance floor territory, but solidifies it as a casual head-bobber. It's sort of a welcome reprieve from the manic and at-times-insane I Love It, and the lyrics are less, uh, threatening and damaging, to boot.
25. Arcade Fire - Afterlife
Arcade Fire burst onto the music scene as a band obsessed with and consumed by death. Death surrounded the time immediately preceding the release of Funeral, one of the most emotional records of this era of music. They left their concerns behind, gradually, to analyze things from atheism to suburban culture, but have now come full circle in their pondering. "When love is gone, where does it go? ... Where do
we go?" It's a thought process that can envelop your mind; your death, a pet's death, a loved one's death, what happens? We don't and can't know. All we can do is turn the concept of this ethereal "afterlife" into something still intangible, but relatable. "Is this the afterlife? / It's just an afterlife with you," sings Win Butler near the song's end, an emotional revelation that placates the nerves and soothes the soul, even as the questions linger.
24. Janelle Monae - Primetime (f. Miguel)
When Janelle Monae manages to rein in her unstoppably energetic and charismatic personality, songs like this can happen. Tracks like Tightrope and Dance Apocalyptic are crazy and frenetic, but Primetime is a slow-burning, hot-and-heavy duet that pairs Monae at her silkiest with Miguel's smoothest coos, and their harmonizing during the second chorus is exuberant, a beautiful clash of sounds that sound like they were made to sing together. It helps the chemistry of the song, a love-filled that feels hopeful ("It's a primetime for our love / and heaven is bettin' on us").
23. Sigur Ros - Isjaki
To me, Sigur Ros songs have always been in a language that's more than just Icelandic. Or hybrid-Icelandic or whatever they'd name their borrowed-from-Cherubim emittance. Isjaki, the lead single from this year's Kveikur, has a lyric video that the majority of its audience will not understand. Again: that's not the point. The music has always been about more than the words, and things are no different here. It's about Sigur Ros managing to balance forcefulness and assertion with the prettier elements of their music. It's all about letting Jonsi Birgisson tell you some mythical, fantastical tale about who knows what (you can probably find translations, but why spoil the fun?). Listen and get transported.
22. Haim - Honey & I
A lyrically simple tune about relationship comfort that, musically, is anything but. A slightly off-beat drum pattern with a guitar that darts in and out, treated with a soft echo effect. It's a sweet song, but Danielle Haim's to be taken seriously on vocals; take her for weak or granted at your own peril. The most-heard comparison for this band is Fleetwood Mac, and there's some resemblance there, but Haim are simply transporting that type of sound into a new era. This is just one of the best examples of how they were able to do just that.
21. Chvrches - Lungs
LAUREN MAYBERRY. Right, anyway: Lungs is the most explosive track on The Bones of What You Believe, a sweetly synth-harmonized concoction of Mayberry's best lilt leading up to a spasmodic eruption of fuzzed bass and demonic chimes. It's also a cruel song, sung about being emotionally stoic, disguising her poisoned take on a failing relationship. "I will change direction / I will tell you that everything's moving too slowly / just another lie," she says. It's harsh, and they can't even be classified as dropping hints, because it's just outright deception. It's hard to imagine a voice like Mayberry's sounding so vicious, but that just makes it all the more crushing.
