Previously:
120-101,
100-91,
90-81,
80-71,
70-61,
60-51,
50-41,
40-31,
30-21
Spotify Playlist
20. Julien Baker - Turn Out the Lights
As good as the studio version of this song is - and I obviously think pretty highly of it - what I'll always remember about it is the first time I heard it, live, in Brooklyn as Baker opened for the Decemberists earlier this year. For more than a year, I'd been living with the bare bones of
Sprained Ankle, and all of the pain Baker felt and poured into the songs on that album were tethered to something that kept them from fully, ferociously ripping your heart out. Everything was still
a lot to internalize, but on the other side of headphones, I was afforded some protection. Then, as I heard this song's eruption of force in its climax (relatively speaking, here), I was caught completely off guard. The leash that had been around the neck of this music wasn't just taken off, it was
ripped off. Baker was done playing nice, and preparing for war against what had held her down on that first LP.
19. Big Thief - Shark Smile
The "Thelma & Louise" of songs on this year's list, "Shark Smile" is a tale of a fatal-by-design joyride. Starting off with disconnected, disjointed riffing sampled from what was apparently a 30-minute jam session during a day of recording, Big Thief immediately set an uncomfortable mood, appropriately setting us at unease for the story that's about to come. It's one of only a few times where we hear Adrianne Lenker's voice clearly, without muffle or static; it's a far more dire song than most of the rest of
Capacity, and gets produced as such.
18. The Afghan Whigs - Demon In Profile
There might not be a word I connect to music more strongly than "catharsis." You can hear it and
feel it in so many different types of music that it feels universally applicable and accessible. You can feel it in the careful progression of the likes of Sufjan and Julien Baker, but you can also feel it in songs that can reach stadium rafters, too. The latter phenotype is what we're working with here, because we've got those windmill guitar solos and brass sections and rapid-fire piano all building toward the high point just after the 2:30 mark, when everything comes together to sound like relief for the tension running through the song in the lead-up.
17. Fleet Foxes - Third of May / Ōdaigahara
Two titles for two distinct pieces of music in the same track; for my purposes, the first two-thirds of this song, on its own, probably would've come closer to the top 10. I consider the instrumental outro a bit of a drag and a bit overlong, despite its beautiful moments. The first half, though, from the immediately harmonic start to the near disappearance of every instrument and the eventual restart, is vintage Pecknold. And I love it. "I'm reminded of the time it all fell in line on the third of May," in terms of pure musical construction, with the way it floats down like a leaf shed from the top branch of a tree, is
gorgeous. Even as darkness descends and the sound turns more solemn as it approaches the 4:00 mark, beauty abounds. It's a sliver of all there is to unpack on
Crack-Up, but it is the most immediately stunning and accessible track on the album.
16. The Districts - Point
Saying something as oblique as "the point is beside the point" leaves me wondering what The Point is more often than not...until I remember to follow these words of wisdom. "Point" is decidedly rough around the edges - more shaved wooden spear than wrought iron pike - with its overdriven guitars and bass plunging into persistent strums every time the chorus bursts onto the scene. There's an undercurrent of drag or resistance or some opposing force that makes the chugga-chugga of the drums against those waterlogged guitars produce this distinct take on slacker rock.
15. Alvvays - In Undertow
A song for a humid summer day if I ever heard one, this is Alvvays' best song since "Adult Diversion," and has an argument for belonging with the likes of "Party Police," too. Molly Rankin and friends sound a bit more world-weary on this one: "What's left for you and me? / I ask that question rhetorically" is about as resigned a line as you can come up with. It's kind of a sign of the times in that way, isn't it?
14. Ariel Pink - Bubblegum Dreams
Yeah, this bozo just
had to go and make this sound like something the Beach Boys would've made if they were hanging out with Wavves and Panda Bear, didn't he? I don't know why I just called him a bozo; I think capturing the essence of fuzz pop this well (for my taste, at least) just makes me wish I could read musical tea leaves this well. I'm jealous. Anyway this song is a delightful jaunt, and stays light and airy despite its superfuzzy instruments; the saccharine lyrics come close to being cloying or treading into cynical territory, but instead I just find them funny. Terrifically (typically) weird stuff here.
13. Carly Rae Jepsen - Cut to the Feeling
Look. LOOK. Okay. If you haven't given CRJ a shot in this post-
EMOTION world we live in, now would be the time. If you
have tried and still can't get into a song like this...well, I mean, musical tastes vary. But I can't ignore a pop song that shoots through stadium ceilings and on up to the goddang moon. It's a song about breaking through monotony and staleness and it's a party I wanna be part of. Party Rae Jepsen.
12. Broken Social Scene - Halfway Home
Some songs just sound better with more cooks in the kitchen. Like right here, where one single, isolated vocalist is never heard; every piece of singing has some counterpart, be it harmonic or rhythmic or whatever. Like most BSS songs, it's a hugely collaborative, team effort. There's a whole ton going on, some raucous amalgam of joyful noise that undergoes no fewer than three separate swells in just over four-and-a-half minutes. It craves to be turned up loud - like most great jams do - and I oblige every time it comes on.
11. Jessie Ware - Your Domino
So few artists going know how to make these soulful confessions of love and adoration sound so smart, assured and distinct time after time. At least, very few know how to do it as well as Ware. This time, the twist is a persistent pulse of synth paired with a tap-tap-pause-tap rhythm, a mix just left-of-center enough to bob your head to without trudging into jazz or math rock territory. I'm also a big fan of how throaty the bass guitar sounds in the mix, layered directly on top of the bass drum hits, as well as how effortlessly Ware's voice climbs up and down the "Do you know I, oh, I wanna be your domino" line at the end of the chorus, bouncing between notes so effortlessly it almost obscures how tricky that line must be to sing. This is also another Ware song free of That One Nagging Thing that's kept me from considering tracks like "You & I (Forever)" among some of my all-time favorites. It's both sensual and catchy, making it one of my two or three favorite Ware tracks yet.
Next:
10-1
