Sunday, November 26, 2017

2017: The Songs (80-71)

Previously: 120-101, 100-91, 90-81
Spotify Playlist

80. Julie Byrne - Natural Blue

This might be a case of context informing my subconscious, but every time I hear this song, I picture a hike in the mountains. Byrne is, somewhat famously, a park ranger by day. It's a cool story in and of itself, but tack it onto the music she writes by night, and the world laid out before our ears gain that much more depth. "Natural Blue" glides along as easily and gracefully as just about any other song released this year, with Byrne's beautifully polished voice adds just the right amount of layering to an intentionally bare track. You need headphones to really feel immersed in her world, but there's still somehow enough texture to feel like this song could fill up a room on speakers. That kind of utility is rare.


79. Sylvan Esso - Die Young

Synthpop doesn't always have to blow out the speakers. Sure, you could be CHVRCHES and go massive with every song, but you could also be Amelia Meath and apply restraint to your voice until the moment is just right. For a moment later in "Die Young," the waves of synths part just so, allowing Meath enough room to flex just a little extra. It's a track full of subtleties, never resorting to beating you over the head with lyrical messages or bombastic swells - and in that way, it's kind of a genre outlier - but the song is better served because of that.




78. Portugal. The Man - Feel It Still

Sometimes, crossover hits are allowed to feel good. It's perfectly logical to keep your indie cred intact and still enjoy the hell out of something like "Uptown Funk." You are totally okay if you enjoy Cold War Kids both at their rough-and-ragged early stage and stadium pop late stage. Same goes for Portugal. The Man who, despite their persistently weird name punctuation choice, have finally broken through with a pretty ubiquitous single of their own. "Feel It Still" is a groove, pure and simple. And I like listening to it! Feels good man.






77. Pale Honey - Someone's Devotion

You can't always get a great feel for a song in its first few notes or bars, and then sometimes you listen to this song. From the first four bass notes, you know exactly what you're getting: A smoky, sultry jam that feels both sinister and alluring, trapping your ears in some strange underworld open mic. Sweden strikes again.








76. Torres - Three Futures

When Three Futures was released, I spent a bit too much time lamenting the departure of Torres as I first knew her. And that wasn't fair. Now, part of me still does miss the songwriter who only needed a looped guitar and gentle bass to make an impact as strong as the one "Waterfall" made; the woman who could wail just right in order to make "Honey" the devastating truck of a song it was and remains to this day. When I finally got out of my own way, I began to appreciate "Three Futures" for what it is, not what I once hoped it would be. Maybe it helps that "Three Futures" is paced pretty closely to the methodical, deliberate way almost all of her self-titled debut was, but that's neither here nor there. What we have here is what sounds like an "it's not you, it's me" breakup song: "You didn't know I saw three futures / One alone and one with you / And one with the love I knew I'd choose" sounds like it puts its audience in the worst spot of all parties involved here, but at least Mackenzie Scott is delivering the hard truth straight-up without prancing around it. She only spends a moment reflecting on what was, but her delivery sounds cold and unaffected, clearly detached from any meaning deeper than simple fact. "I hope that's what you'll remember / Not how I left, but how I entered" she sings, coming as close to showing a crack in her armor as she gets at any other point in the song. She's gone, but allows for some remembrance of the past, if it'll help who she's drifted apart from. It's magnanimous in its own crushing way.

75. Strand of Oaks - Rest Of It

Complete with sliding-on-knees guitar solos and backwoods wails, "Rest Of It" feels like a festival set closer, a righteous jam with all the right ingredients and just enough showboating and 1970s panache. You can almost see the flowing headbands coming off the tambourine as it's vigorously whacked against a hip, while Timothy Showalter finishes a crowdsurf. It's a little fun.







74. The Horrors - Press Enter To Exit

The Horrors have found a way to carve out their own nook in modern rock music. It's a little goth, a little kraut, a little emo, a little punk. It's almost always weighted and foreboding, with rhythm sections pretty far up in the mix, casting clouds over everything else happening in the tracks. And the same holds true for "Press Enter To Exit," even as the chorus strains to find some sun between the clouds. All of the percussion feels like it's padded by 100 pillows, something like the musical equivalent of a massive raincloud, and the opening up of those skies for the instrumental interlude conclusion around the 5:00 mark feels like a summer shower; it's still kinda sticky outside, but there's relief in the raindrops.


73. Grizzly Bear - Cut-Out

The best Grizz songs have a singular, defining part of them: the clinking piano in "Two Weeks," the ethereal howl in "While You Wait For the Others," the manic drums in "On a Neck, On a Spit," and on and on. This song's moment comes when Chris Bear's drumming pattern turns into a war march, pounding barely connected bass/snare combos with half-beat cymbal interjections. The whole track, for me, is carried by that bridge, as those drums and Daniel Rossen's turn at the mic manages to mold two seemingly disparate tracks into one. For a moment, it's mildly dizzying...like most of their best stuff. Go figure.




72. Dirty Projectors - Up In Hudson

Dave Longstreth has said this album is not totally biographical, and more of a narrator telling a new story than Longstreth himself telling a story about he and former partner and bandmate Amber Coffman. Sure, whatever. Whether biographical or not (it is), "Up In Hudson" feels authentic - specific New York venue references and all - and packs a lot of that emotional punch of a relationship's beginning, blossoming and ending into its double-length (7:30) runtime. It's a testament to Longstreth's songwriting that the song never feels overlong or repetitive, despite its formidable length.




71. Cayetana - Am I Dead Yet?

The Philly rock scene is so alive. It makes me so happy. This three-piece, whose New Kind Of Normal dropped earlier this spring, mixes in bits of shoegaze, punk and dance rock to produce this track, which yanks you in many different directions in under four minutes. I'm a pretty big fan of the dance rock interludes, personally, but there's something here for just about anyone. And that slight snarl in Augusta Koch's delivery might call to mind some Waxahatchee (coincidentally, another Philly original). "Is there a way out of this?" Koch wonders aloud, shortly before one of those dance breaks arrives to set us all free. It's one of those rock grooves I can easily see myself bopping awkwardly to. Hell yeah.


Next: 70-61



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


Sunday, November 19, 2017

2017: The Songs (100-91)

Previously: 120-101
Spotify Playlist

100. Japanese Breakfast - 12 Steps


Breakup songs are, by their nature, extremely personal things. The ability to connect, as listeners, to stories of heartbreak that aren't our own is a demanding one. There's a fine line separating every breakup song from being too cloying or pathetic, and it's a treacherous path to walk. Michelle Zauner hears your warnings and proceeds to run them over as she sneers out a song whose summary best reads to me as "ah, well, we tried."








99. Arcade Fire - Put Your Money On Me


Everything Now that strikes the right balance of Win and RĂ©gine's vocals while building at just the right pace - Win's vocals starting to swell as the horns kick in is a great moment - calls to mind the better moments of Reflektor's "Supersymmetry" and Neon Bible's "Intervention" call-and-response. I may not like that songs like this are the new exception to the rule for Arcade Fire, but I'll take what I can get just the same. For my, um, money, the only song on






98. Nicole Atkins - Darkness Falls So Quiet

Dolls of Highland - captured so beautifully. Atkins has a great voice, and uses it artfully atop a jazz shuffle beat. This is the kind of song you imagine a cabaret performer cooing lustily to an adoring audience, as she wanders out through the fourth wall, tousling some hair or pulling on a necktie or two as she saunters about. This track reminds me of the dark, back-alley brooding that one of last year's best albums - Kyle Craft's





97. Pale Honey - Get These Things Out Of My Head


Sweden is great. I love Sweden. The Tallest Man On Earth? The Sun Days? The Gothenburg area is really pumping out some great acts lately, in particular. Anyway, Pale Honey are a Swedish duo who make really cool, hazy, not-quite-sleepy rock with that gentle Swedish...uh...twang?...on their English lyrics. The mix of propulsive drums and fuzzed out guitar serves as a really stylish frame for Tuva Lodmark's voice.






96. Kane Strang - My Smile Is Extinct


Melodrama is cool sometimes. Usually, that kind of thing is best digested if the whole thing is pretty apparently tongue-in-cheek. Mission accomplished almost immediately here ("Yes, she is the best I've ever had / I'll say it to her face and I'll say it to her dad" is the first lyric? Okay.), and so the rest of the story told by "My Smile Is Extinct" comes served with a side of pitying smile. The pop rock here recalls Fountains of Wayne, and the lyricism manages to accomplish the same pseudo-absurdity without being too embarrassing to be heard blasting from your car speakers.





95. Stars - The Maze


A growing number of my all-time favorite songs (of which this track doesn't quite belong, clearly) require patience. As in, 90 seconds or so of it. Here, on "The Maze," Stars decide to take that exact amount of time to lead in to a rather cathartic chant of "I fell into a dream!" It sounds great. It has that undercurrent of foreboding (thanks, string section) on the verses after that first explosion, stringing the last three-and-a-half minutes or so together rather neatly. It sounds like a track that'd be amazing to see live.






94. Sam Smith - Pray

A transcendental voice means nothing without at least a semi-decent vehicle for it to arrive in. Sam Smith's debut full-length featured a lot of fluffed pop tunes that Smith worked with admirably; imagine Tommy Wiseau's lines in "The Room" delivered by Morgan Freeman, and you have an idea of what I'm talking about here. Smith has an incredibly unique, soulful voice, and needs songs with a soulful bent to really sound like he's fully unlocked. "Pray" has that, and I'm not just talking about the choir backing. The second verse, Smith sounds like he's physically hurt. In the chorus, he builds from the bottom of his register up to the falsetto. It's a wonder to listen to this man sing, and you have to think - at least, I do - that this voice should be capable of delivering an all-time great album before his career is done. Maybe The Thrill of it All doesn't quite reach that status, but "Pray" is a track that makes you think he might not be so far away from it.

93. Foo Fighters - Run

Hey, this is cool. Foo Fighters are about a decade past being their most influential, but in the wake of Sonic Highways and In Your Honor, it's nice to hear Grohl & Co. just kinda rip again, without a whole lot of concern for radio playability. The intro starts off leaning the other way, but things devolve into something that sounds like it'd soundtrack an underground drag race between a couple of Hell's adolescent demons; maybe not overflowing with bile and super crunchy guitars and indiscernible wails of lyrics, but definitely laced with a bit of getdownwithyourbadself. I mean, we're not talking about Converge or anything even close to doom metal. And I'm risking hyperbole even now; let's just say it's nice to hear these guys sound like they're up to shred a little bit again, even if the edges are still pretty smooth.


92. The Lone Bellow - Can't Be Happy For Long


It's entirely possible that I underrate the Lone Bellow a fair bit. Their collaborative, pastoral, Fleet Foxes-esque efforts always come off pleasant. Their arrangements are always tight. They always sound emotive. "Can't Be Happy For Long," for its part, features the band's signature close harmonies and folky tendencies with a fresh coat of gloss. It hits light a beam of sunshine on a chilly day.







91. Waxahatchee - Silver


Katie Crutchfield ain't afraid to tell it like it is. Her solo-ish project Waxahatchee has always felt - to me - like a true vehicle for Crutchfield's own thoughts and feelings and stories, more so than some acts that come across like they're playing a part. Waxahatchee material never falls short of feeling personal. Past efforts have usually boxed those feelings and stories in more subdued tones - see "Limbs and Lips" from Cerulean Salt - but Out In The Storm finds her, by her own admission, reverting to a more classic form of songwriting. And it certainly sounds comfortable to her, detailing a fraying and one-sided relationship in the form of a straight-up rocker, complete with electric guitar solo. Hell yeah man, why not?



Next: 90-81



Saturday, November 18, 2017

2017: The Songs (120-101)

SUPER SIZE ME.

This year's track and album lists have a little more beef this year, with 120 tracks and 44 albums I really enjoyed and am happy to share with all of you. This year was a lot of fun, and gave me a lot of music that I hope is either new, enjoyable, or both, for you!

Here's the back end of the tracks list, which I'll use to kick us off. This year's Spotify track playlist can be subscribed to here; tracks will be added there shortly before I publish entries here. The 120 tracks are spread out over 83 different artists, and Julien Baker leads the pack with four songs included.

ALRIGHT LET'S GO.

120. Lo Tom - Another Mistake

119. Minus the Bear - Give & Take


118. Maggie Rogers - On + Off


117. Maximo Park - The Reason I Am Here


116. Delicate Steve - Winners


115. Real Estate - Stained Glass


114. Hiss Golden Messenger - Gulfport You've Been On My Mind


113. The Mountain Goats - Rain In Soho


112. Son Little - O Me O My


111. Jay Som - Take It


110. Land of Talk - Heartcore


109. Cymbals - Splitting


108. Childhood - Don't Have Me Back


107. London Grammar - Oh Woman Oh Man


106. Cameron Avery - Disposable


105. Royal Blood - Lights Out



104. Sheer Mag - Expect the Bayonet


103. Sean Rowe - Newton's Cradle


102. Fleet Foxes - Cassius, -



101. Everything Everything - Run the Numbers


Next:
100-91