Wednesday, November 22, 2017

2017: The Songs (90-81)

Previously: 120-101, 100-91
Spotify Playlist

90. The War On Drugs - Nothing To Find

The War On Drugs do their particular brand of dreamy jam band rock better than anybody else going these days, really. That becomes especially evident on WoD tracks that jump right in with those good Arcade Fire drums and toss in a little harmonica for good measure. Oh, hey, go figure! That's what this track does!







89. Lorde - Supercut


One great barometer for pop song success is trying to imagine said song playing over the closing credits of a movie. It could be any kind of movie, that doesn't matter. So long as you're able to envision the song you're listening to blaring over those industrial Dolby speakers as you gather up your empty popcorn bag and discarded plastic shrink wrap from that box of Goobers you finished before the previews even started. "Supercut" is the kind of smart pop you expect from someone as precocious as Lorde, the sort of track that just cements the notion we all got after her debut that she could do this for the next 20 years if she wanted to. She's rreally unlike any other pop artist in the game right now.



88. Slowdive - Everyone Knows


For basically the entirety of my life, up until about five or six years ago, I didn't really listen to anything that approached being called "shoegaze." In trying to think of where that seed may have even been planted, my mind wanders to some of the more immersive wails and bludgeoning riffs from the Mars Volta's De-Loused in the Comatorium, an insane album that has no connection to anything Slowdive does. But the ability of those songs to surround you and envelop your ears in sound was always galvanizing to me. Fast forward a bit, to the arrival of the band Sun Airway's Soft Fall in 2012, and that seed planted years before begins to sprout. Fast forward a bit more, and we arrive at Slowdive's self-titled reunion album. As with most things "shoegaze," the song's lyrics are de-emphasized in favor of the insulated, gently wavering melodies of rhythm guitars that barely exist as more than white noise. The drum patters are softened, Rachel Goswell's voice breathy and somewhat strained. It's beautiful even before it arrives at the bridge breakdown midway through the track: The beat switches up and the guitars spiral upward, swallowed up by their own delay pedals. It's a gorgeous moment worthy of calling out on its own.

87. White Reaper - Judy French


If you're in a band - a rock band - and have a soft spot for the 1980s, how do you write an homage to that era of Camaro rock without sounding like a group of enormous cheeseballs? You can barely do better than a track like "Judy French," a perfect tribute within an album of slightly-more-perfect tributes to everything that was and is fun about hair metal mixed with touches of grunge. "Judy French" is a love story - as of this moment an unrequited one - about inexperienced courtship and the mixed bag of feelings that come with. The words are written through a more experienced lens, which keeps the song from falling into the aforementioned cheeseball zone, but the tongue is planted firmly in cheek just the same. It, like every other song on The World's Best American Band, is just stupid fun.

86. Grizzly Bear - Four Cypresses


There's a feeling conveyed by some of the best Grizzly Bear songs that I can't describe any better than "doom." The Grizz don't write apocalyptic songs, but something about their melodies and structure feels ominous, like something is lingering beneath. You get the feeling from the instant "Four Cypresses" starts, dropping in with a plop-plop-plop of single synth key hits that (also in true Grizz fashion) eventually evolves into a swirl of manic drums and barely-dissonant harmonies. Each element and layer gets a chance to introduce itself as the song starts out, building up to that cacophony before gliding out and over the finish line on some cymbal taps. Pretty vintage stuff.


85. Yumi Zouma - Ostra


Walking the fine line between Beach House and yacht rock, Yumi Zouma make dream pop that's more "waking up in the morning" than "settling in for the night." It sounds fresh and new, like a day that's just starting. This new Zealand four-piece released a full-length album for the second consecutive year, and while I probably didn't give Yoncalla the attention it warranted in 2016, I've been really taken by Willowbank. "Ostra" is a great example of calming, wispy, smart music that reaches through and touches something immaterial inside you.




84. St. Vincent - Fear The Future


I mean, it's hard to chide Annie Clark for a lack of theatrics. Though MASSEDUCTION largely builds upon the outsized persona constructed by 2014's self-titled LP, "Fear the Future" feels like a slightly more measured answer to a track like "Birth In Reverse." There's still plenty going on in these quick-hitting two-and-a-half minutes, but it all manages to still feel self-contained. I'll admit to always being a bit taken by tracks that make me think in oxymorons and paradoxes.





83. Julien Baker - Appointments


The first of four entries in this year's list from Ms. Baker is the most similar to the type of song we heard on her breakthrough debut. The stakes are higher on LP2, so the production values have been increased in step with that progression: We hear layered vocal harmonies and a guitar and piano at the same time which, believe me, is a big step from LP1. Even still, this is a song that could still be called "sparse," and it's a term Baker's music has made a home in. This time around, more confident still in her ability to belt out her feelings, Baker drifts along this track about grasping with identity and sense of self, about coping and being "okay," even if that feeling only exists on the surface. Recovery from anything takes time and commitment; it takes a lot to believe that, no matter what stage of that process you're in, you're going to be fine. Baker has that conviction here.

82. Phoebe Bridgers - Motion Sickness


It feels fitting that this track is back-to-back with Julien Baker on this list, since I hear so many things in common between the two and their songwriting. Bridgers doesn't ever quite belt or wail like Baker, but her angel-hair voice has that Joni Mitchell purity mixed with just a hint of Baker's vocal fry that combine to make a pretty uniquely intimate sound. This track, about a pining that sidesteps lust and connects directly with the heart, has a theme that Bridgers's voice enhances, and her clever phrasing and metaphor in the chorus ("I have emotional motion sickness / Somebody roll the windows down") can bring a wry smile to your face in spite what could ultimately be construed as a sad song.


81. Gordi - Bitter End


Our fifth consecutive female-led project in this list continues the trend of sparseness and finds Sophie Payten building upon the intriguing sounds found on her debut EP, Clever Disguise. "Bitter End" is a lullaby for - you guessed it - the end of a relationship; running out of things to say, feeling as if communication is a battle. And when Payten demands at the chorus's closing "don't deny me my bitter end," she isn't asking for something to be repaired. Rather, she's ready to move on and finally sever what has become too emotionally cumbersome to persevere through. It's the capital-B Breaking point, and she's reached it. Payten's voice belies her age and makes her sound more world-weary than she probably is as a mid-20-something, but that vocal quality lends the song and its lyrics some gravitas, and commands our attention.

Next: 80-71