Heartache With Hard Work

I spent 2019 on the road. From the US/Mexico border to London and Paris. From Los Angeles to the Arctic Circle. I spent several months in Geneva, traveled to Stockholm and Uppsala, to Barcelona and Lyon. I visited family in Seattle and Stockton and South Carolina. I took in the waters in the French Alps, celebrated at a wedding with friends in the shadow of the Golden Gate, and covered a World Cup. And through all that, I spent a lot of time on trains and buses and planes, earbuds in place, sharing my journey with all these wonderful songs. In many cases, a given song immediately evoke a specific place. For me, Young Enough is the soundtrack of the French metro. Hymn means sitting on a tram in Geneva on a snowy night going past the Cornavin station. Fleur is a crisp spring morning in Washington running amongst the falling cottonwood fluff. Venice Bitch, wonderfully, takes me back to Venice itself when we ducked into a store on Abbot Kinney and heard it playing.

The connection between sound and memory is powerful, and a big part of what makes music such an important force in our lives. I’ve been incredibly lucky to have a chance to travel so widely and to see so much. And I’m grateful to have these songs to accompany those memories, to refine them, to lock them into place. Music is truly a blessing.

As always, these are just my favorites. I make no claim that they were objectively the best. One song per artist.

50. Warranty – Meat Puppets
The last Meat Puppets record I bought was a Meat Puppets II, which I found in the used bin in…probably around 1996. So it was a pretty big surprise to find the original lineup back together, and putting out a pretty damn good record!

49. Dylan Thomas – Better Oblivion Community Center
I was beyond excited about the collaboration between Phoebe Bridgers and Conor Oberst, but ended up pretty disappointed in the album overall. This song, however, absolutely lived up to my hopes.

48. Sweet but Psycho – Ava Max
I still haven’t settled whether I think this song is problematic, reappropriation, or a problematic reappropriation. It’s a pure banger, though, and I think it’s well-intentioned so I’m inclined to be generous.

47. There Is Peace Beyond – Nox Vahn feat. Mimi Page
Mimi Page has made my year-end list just about every year of this decade, and 2019 is no exception. This song is a collaboration with Nox Vahn who brings a chill dance beat which adds an intriguing new layer to her typically gorgeous atmospherics.

46. Going To Brighton – Fresh
Pop punk doesn’t have a lot of range, but when it’s good it’s so good. This song is so good.

45. Special Times & Places – AKSK
All I know about this song is that it was on a compilation called Chill Pill. Which…yeah, you definitely get what it says on the tin. This is music for laying back and blissing out.

44. Something Blue – Ellis
It feels like it’s being played on a stereo behind a closed door. A tempest of emotions barely disguised by distance, but slightly washed out in the process. It’s perfectly fitting for a song about teenage self discovery and pain.

43. Motivation – Normani
Ariana Grande and Max Martin were co-writers on this track, and you can definitely hear those elements. But the song ultimately leans most heavily on Normani’s vocal performance, which is more than up to the task. And on those insouciant horns.

42. Cleo – Rapsody
A vicious assault on the sexism and racism of the music industry–which is all the worse because it’s often not ‘intentional.’ There are few more effective laundering techniques for exclusionary violence than to put the decision in the hands of an imagined consumer. Building the track around a Phil Collins sample is a subtle act of genius that turns a good song into a great one.

41. Gold ^ Pink – Lip Talk
The whole song is great, but it’s only in the final minute when the wave crashes that you realize how much tension she had managed to build up without you noticing.

40. Surrender – Chris Farren
A little gem of power pop, with great harmonies between Farren and Steph Knipe from Adult Mom. It’s about friendships that drift apart. In this specific case, it was apparently because of a breakup that fractured the friend group. But it’s really a universal feeling: the sadness of losing someone for reasons beyond both of your control, knowing that you’ll both get on with your lives just fine, but with some tiny little splinter of possibility removed.

39. I Know I’m Not the Only One – Tegan and Sara
The most interesting feature of Tegan and Sara’s album of interpellations of their own teenage demos is the way that it tracks their development from angsty, rebellious kids on the margins of popular music into mature arena-filling pop stars. These were always only two sides of the same coin, but we rarely get a chance to see the elements held in such perfect balance.

38. Good Luck Come Back – Caithlin De Marrais
This song strikes a very different vibe from her previous work. It’s certainly far removed from Rainer Maria but also pretty distinct from her previous solo work. A slinky little bass line centers the song, with a light electro touch providing texture. But it’s really all about her voice–gentle, introspective, resilient.

37. Killer – Palehound
“I wanna be the one who kills the man who hurt you, darling,” she whispers, and it already feels like a fait accompli. This is not a rage-filled song about retribution. It’s a cold-blooded statement of fact. Punishment will come and it will come soon.

36. Just Thought You Should Know – Betty Who
An achingly simple songs that could easily just come off as an early 90s retread, but is built with such care and precision that it shines like a beacon in the night. Imagine Amy Grant but less…you know…Christian.

35. Harmony Hall – Vampire Weekend
The more Ezra Koenig leans into the Paul Simon thing, the more I like him.

34. Seventeen – Sharon Van Etten
It feels like seventeen is the most commonly referenced age in the history of popular music. And for good reason. It’s the moment of peak transition. Not yet an adult, but hurtling toward what you will someday become. As hard as it is to be seventeen, it’s almost harder to reflect back on that age and to see it as continuous with your present self. If you could speak to that past version of yourself, what would you say? Would you try to warn them? Or would you just be crushed by the overwhelming sense of empathy for someone who has not yet lived and suffered and grown…and lost?

33. Best For You – Blood Cultures
A bizarre, twirling track with tinges of of psychedelia and dark pop. I have to admit I don’t fully understand why I like this song so much. It just sings to me.

32. Blame It On Your Love (feat. Lizzo) – Charli XCX
Lizzo just missed out on the list in her own right, but I’m happy to find a place for her on this wonderful collaboration with Charli XCX. The song is actually several years old, but this iteration is massively more fun than its previous ‘Track 10’ incarnation. What was once a weird atmospheric meditation has turned into a pure blissful bop.

31. Flowerhead – UV Rays
“You’re the only one who knows how weird I get when I’m alone” – the true test of intimacy.

30. Hard of Hearing – Radical Face
A fuller sound than we’re used to from Radical Face, and a warmer tone. It retains all of the organic beauty that generally characterizes his work, but blends in some digital elements. It details the process of finding your way through therapy–the weariness, the self-flagellation, the tiny steps toward getting better. “I’m not well, but I’m alright.”

29. Human – Molly Sarlé
The task of any great breakup song is to take something incredibly specific and personal and make it feel universal. Few have ever managed the task so well. I’ve seen this song on a really diverse range of year-end ‘best of’ lists, and you can really see why. It’s one of those songs that feels like an instant classic.

28. Drunk II – Mannequin Pussy
A sloppy, beautiful, heartbreaking song. The guitars erupt like lightning and the drums follow with a cascading wave of thunder.

27. The Best You Had – Nina Nesbitt
Pop songs about breakups are a dime a dozen, but very few manage to capture the complicated sense of shame that comes from being replaced. It’s a sort of humiliation that’s far worse than just being heartbroken.

26. prom dress – mxmtoon
Every great teen movie you’ve ever seen, all wrapped up in one three minute song.

25. Aute Cuture – Rosalía
She goes through about six different movements and seven or eight genres in the space of two and a half minutes. It’s flamenco-reggaeton-pop-house with a diva undertone, and it’s a pure banger.

24. Bimbo – The Coathangers
The verses are light and jaunty, with a deep undercurrent of sadness. The choruses are crunchy and loud, with a firm defiance. It’s a time-tested combination, but damn if it doesn’t work.

23. Paper Rings – Taylor Swift
I’m not sure I would have called a crunchy little jangle-rock song as the best song on the new Taylor Swift album, but it absolutely ended up that way.

22. Era Necesario – Natti Natasha
A top-class vocal performance. She spits out the lines with fire, but with such precision that you never worry about getting burned. Propped up by that thumping bass line, she is free to work her magic.

21. Four Leaf Clover – Dakota
An energetic burst of post-punk goodness, which slides into the groove and then barrels forward. The touch is light, but it hits so hard.

20. Near – Teen Daze
The eagle glides on the wind, rising slowly, until eventually it clears the mountaintop, takes in the wide expanse below. And then it dives.

19. La Vie En Rose – Lucy Dacus
Modernized covers of classics can so easily go wrong. They take something solid and make it ephemeral. This one emphatically does not fall into that trap. Rather than feeling light, it feels joyously weightless.

18. I Don’t Have One Anymore – The Sonder Bombs
The song itself is a lovely blend of brightness and snarl, but my favorite bit is the opening couple seconds which give the song its name: “My threshold for like, bullshit with men is…I don’t have one anymore.”

17. Venice Bitch – Lana Del Rey
The extend five-minute outro will divide opinions, but the heart of the song is revealed in the first 45 seconds, with a chorus that feels like the encapsulation of an entire decade.

16. Swear – Fanclub
‘New wave sensibilities through a dream pop filter’ is probably the only vibe capable of challenging ‘sad songs with ringing guitars backed by a soaring violin’ for the central place in my heart. This is a shining example of the former, so it’s no surprise that I love it.

15. Pretty – Girlpool
A perfect late 90s gauzy rock song. Beautiful, bright, dreamy.

14. Basking in the Glow – Oso Oso
In the grand tradition of The Get Up Kids, a song that delivers a jolt of emo punk powerful enough to wake even the most hardened of hearts.

13. Cedars – Desperate Journalist
A big warm song to make you feel happy and sad in perfectly proportional amounts. Her voice when she sings “another fraying jumper…” is one of my top five moments of the year in music. It just slays me.

12. Settling Down – Miranda Lambert
Another gem from Miranda Lambert, who is a legitimate national treasure. If The Weight of These Wings was about finding herself again, this song is about coming to accept that we’ll never find perfect answers. The human condition is to always be “one heart going both directions.” That’s both a doom and a blessing.

11. Whiskey Fight – Moving Panoramas
Some jangly guitars and an absolutely killer set of harmonies. This song just glides.

10. Hymn – Joy on Fire
Punk jazz with a heart of gold. “Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation.”

9. Bringing It Up – Jetty Bones
One of my big takeaways from 2019 is that emo is back and it is so much better this time around, now that women seem to be leading the charge.

8. We Killed Our Hearts – The Day
It’s been a long time since I’ve heard a song that’s filled me with the same sort of unmediated joy as this one.

7. Look Around – Blankenberge
It arrives big and then just keeps growing and growing. By the end, you feel like you’re enmeshed in the Book of Revelations.

6. All Some Kind of Dream – Josh Ritter
The first time I heard this song, I literally broke down in tears. At its core, the song is a lament for the terrible condition of our politics–the way it makes us doubt our own humanity, given everything that’s done in our name. It succeeds as a call to our better angels, but succeeds even more in the final verse as a serious investigation of whether our better angels really are any better. Ultimately, it us to seriously consider whether we should be trying to redeem the American dream, or whether children in cages are in fact the encapsulation of that dream. It’s a hopeful song, but it’s an extremely skeptical sort of hope. And it couldn’t really be any other way.

5. Fleur – Emily Reo
I can’t help but wonder if Fleur Delacour was an inspiration for the name, because it would 1000% work as her theme song. It’s magical, otherworldly, soul-enriching.

4. Sit Here and Love Me – Caroline Spence
One of the most devastatingly beautiful songs you will ever hear. “I don’t need you to solve any problem at all, I just need you to sit here and love me.”

3. Pancho and Lefty – Townes Van Zandt
This song was recorded 46 years ago, and the world has already heard several versions from Van Zandt himself, not to mention hundreds of covers. So it’s hard to describe it as a ‘song of 2019.’ But damn if this unearthed demo doesn’t turn out to be the definitive version of the song. Stripping it down to the bare minimum allows the heart and soul to be laid bare, and somehow elevates what was already an all-time classic. RIP Townes.

2. Cotton Skies – WESTKUST
Roll down the windows and let this one blast out at full volume. Ride the storm until it lifts you straight up into heaven. This song rips. There’s really no other way to put it.

1. Young Enough – Charly Bliss
Threaded tightly around a single chord guitar line, it builds and builds, until it feels like there is nothing left in the world except this song. One purpose of music is to communicate something fundamental about the human experience. On that count, I’m not sure it’s possible to succeed more completely than Charly Bliss did here.

For me, the best albums of 2019 were defined by two big musical themes. On the one hand, a set of records that are big and boisterous–grounded in the energy and passion of youth. That’s counterbalanced by a set of records that are very much the opposite: filled with introspection, reflection, and a series of long slow breaths. It makes for a nice combination: immediacy tempered by distance, joy balanced with regret.

As always, this is a list of my favorites. I make no claim that these are objectively the best. They’re just the ones I liked the most.

20. Great Grandpa – Four of Arrows

Four of Arrows is a disconcertingly beautiful record, full of awkward time signatures, glistening choruses, and unworldly key changes. It fits vaguely into the folk-rock genre, in the same way that an octopus fits vaguely into the ‘sentient species’ genre. The statement is true, but it misses so much that it almost obscures more than it communicates. This is the grunge-folk record that Mark Lanegan wishes he could have written. It’s a dreamy pop record pierced with dread. It’s the sense of alienation that comes from returning home and feeling like everything is just so slightly different. It’s the sun coming up over the horizon after a long, cold night.

Highlights: Digger, Treat Jar, Mono no Aware, Split Up the Kids, Bloom

19. Alex Lahey – The Best of Luck Club

Another great record from Alex Lahey. It definitely feels like a sophomore record, a bit more mature than her debut, but also a little bit less rambunctious. For the most part, that’s a positive. I Need to Move On and Black RMs are both lovely ruminations on absence, longing, and seeing yourself reflected in someone else—in both positive and negative terms. Am I Doing It Right? feels more muscular, more centered than any of her previous songs. It reveals an artist no longer capable of getting by on pure adrenaline, now having to actually commit to the process. Isabella is a sly-but-not-that-sly ode to a vibrator with an absolutely gorgeous spiraling chorus. Still, despite all the great songs here, I can’t help but feel a little bit of sadness that there’s nothing that knocks my socks off like some of the best tracks on her debut. This is an extremely pleasing album, but I wouldn’t object to just a bit more fire.

Highlights: Black RMs, I Need to Move On, Isabella, Am I Doing It Right?

18. Caroline Spence – Mint Condition

Another damn fine record from Caroline Spence. For the most part, it ‘merely’ provides extremely competent, heartfelt country music. But in a few locations, she delivers an absolute wallop—something so good that it doesn’t just elevate itself, but actually reframes your experience of the whole album. Sit Here and Love Me is the best example. Sitting right in the middle of the album, it rips you apart so completely that the whole rest of the record ends up being about finding a way to put yourself back together. Long Haul is another highlight, offering a jangly ride through a long dark night. And the album-closing title track is another so-simple-that-there’s-nowhere-to-hide emotional rollercoaster.

Highlights: Sit Here and Love Me, Mint Condition, Long Haul, Angels or Los Angeles

17. Emily Reo – Only You Can See It

One of those wonderful albums that seems to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Reo is an artist bursting with ideas, who seems committed to covering a huge amount of space—in terms of both sonic and emotional range. The result is a mélange of songs that defy easy explanation. There’s a round of cheerleader chanting about toxic masculinity (Strawberry), a 70s-inspired torch song for her cat (Charlie), songs grounded in vocoder effects right next to songs that feel sparse and intimate. On the albums best song (Fleur), she mentions butterflies and it feels particularly apposite. Listening to this album is like wandering through a forest surrounded by an endless parade of butterflies. You want to capture the moment, but know full well that the beauty depends on its wildness. And so all you can do is stand back and let it all wash over you.

Highlights: Fleur, Balloon, Phosphenes, Strawberry

16. Rapsody – Eve

I’m not sure this is my favorite Rapsody album (that might still be 2013’s She Got Game), but it’s certainly her best. The scope of the ambition here is breathtaking—both in terms of content and in terms of style. The number of different genres blended here is truly impressive, and it’s all leveraged toward a powerful investigation of black femininity. The closest reference point for Rapsody remains Lauryn Hill—but where in the past that’s felt a bit more like mimesis than inspiration, this is the first time that she feels like a true colleague of Hill. Another way of saying that: her previous work sometimes seemed like it would have been more at home in the 90s than the present moment, while Eve is 100% a record of this moment. I don’t love every song. In fact, some of the wilder moves strike me as dissonant. But that only heightens my respect. This album pulls no punches, and is not concerned about how it will be received. It says what needs to be said, and damn if that isn’t necessary.

Highlights: Cleo, Maya, Reyna’s Interlude, Hatshepsut, Whoopi, Nina

15. bvdub – Explosions in Slow Motion

An extremely well-named album. It sounds exactly like what is promised on the box. Across four gorgeous seventeen minute tracks and a few interludes, Brock Van Wey mixes synths, pianos and strings, occasional bass notes, and light electronic touches to produce achingly sad sounds. It’s the aural equivalent of the images that NASA puts out of distant stars going supernova. It’s one of my most-listened records this year—perfect for reading, writing, or simply relaxing with the sounds of the universe washing through you.

Highlights: Us Again in Amber, Explosions in Slow Motion

14. Louise Burns – Portraits

A record that feels like it could have been released in 1998, when Natalie Imbruglia and the Cardigans and Sixpence None the Richer were filling the airwaves with songs in this register. But it also feels very much like a batch of songs that could have ended up on the soundtrack to a John Hughes music. And, unsurprisingly, all that means that Portraits equally feels indebted to the wave of electro-pop from the early 2010s. All of which is to say: this sort of music is actually pretty timeless, because there’s never really a bad time for a bright an beautiful pop record.

Highlights: Like a Dream, Everything You Got, Cry, Dream of Life

13. Heather Woods Broderick – Invitation

It lacks the defining song or explosive moment that characterize many of the records that ended up a little higher on the list. But for all that, it still ended up as one of my most-listened albums of the year. That’s largely down to the incredible atmospheric work. She builds an entire world over the course of 45 minutes. It’s a dark, quiet expanse filled with gorgeous strings, delicately plucked guitars, strange time signatures, and silky vocals. Broderick played with Efterklang for a few years back in the late 2000s, and that feels entirely appropriate. This reminds me a lot of their Parades album (one of my favorite records of 2007).

Highlights: Slow Dazzle, A Stilling Wind, Nightcrawler

12. Tegan and Sara – Hey, I’m Just Like You

It’s a wonderful conceit. Take a batch of songs they wrote two decades ago and re-record them now. It’s hard to think of a better way to build a retrospective on a career. But this isn’t just about reflecting on the past. There’s something deeply moving about these songs—their earnestness, their posture, their awkwardness—but they would be mere curiosities for a box set if that’s all that was to it. Fortunately, the relationship between past and present brings more than mere reflection. Rather than searching for a sort of Goldilocks balance between passion and maturity, they let the two sides fight each other a bit. The resulting creative tension produces something more than just a sum of the parts. It’s hardly the best Tegan and Sara album, but it is genuinely engaging, and one of their most interesting works yet.

Highlights: I Know I’m Not the Only One, Hold My Breath Until I Die, Keep Them Close ‘Cause They Will Fuck You Too, Hey, I’m Just Like You

11. Natti Natasha – IllumiNATTI

Every time I encounter a record like this, it reminds me just how little I actually know about music. Because while this is clearly drawing on all kinds of threads that I’m vaguely aware of, it also feels wonderfully alien to my pretty basic white indie guy tastes. Which means I completely lack the tools to actually explain what’s going on. It draws heavily on the reggaeton tradition—blending together a wide range of Caribbean sounds, including pure reggae (No Voy a Llorar) and that characteristic big bass thump (Era Necesario, Toca Toca), along with strong contemporary pop elements (Oh Daddy) and plenty of hip-hop and trap vibes as well (Independiente). Some tracks feel closest to traditional Spanish ballads (La Mejor Version de Mi). Digging in also introduced me to bachata music (Soy Mia, Quien Sabe), which I’m now completely fascinated with.

Ultimately, I have no idea where IllumiNATTI fits within the larger trends of these genres. All I really know is that it absolutely slays.

Highlights: Era Necesario, Toca Toca, La Mejor Version de Mi, Soy Mia, Te Lo Dije, Quien Sabe

10. Fanclub – All the Same

Six perfect new wave songs, all lined up in a row and ready for you to snack on them. This EP is sweet and pure, warm as a summer day, cool as a mountain stream. And as with all the best dream pop, there’s enough darkness hiding underneath the shiny exterior to keep you honest, but not so much that it will overwhelm you. It’s a record full of songs that feel like they must have been written decades ago, they feel so immediately familiar. I mean, how is it possible that no one has ever sung “I want to be yours every time” before?

Highlights: Leaves, Swear, Stranger, Reflection

9. Blankenberge – More

This would easily be the best shoegaze album in an average year. It’s only held off from that spot by an even better record that will show up a few spots higher. The general structure is a burbling bass line, matched up with propulsive percussion, and soaring dreamy vocals rising far up over the clouds. The best example is Look Around, which is one of the finest rock songs of the decade, but songs like Right Now, Fest, and Islands are also great examples. The album is bridged by two songs—Waves and Until the Sun Shines—which provide a moment for the languorous atmospherics to swell and the engines to reboot. It’s a lovely breather in the midst of the storm.

Highlights: Look Around, Right Now, Waves, Fest

8. Moving Panoramas – In Two

A wonderful follow-up to 2015’s One, and a record which took a pretty devastating personal journey to finally get made. It’s not a big change from their previous sound—indie pop songcraft that takes you back to the heyday of music blogs, fuzzy guitars that take you back to the 90s, and crisp production that feels timeless. There’s a bit of jangle here, a bit of surf rock there, and a dreamy weightlessness that ties everything together. If there’s a flaw, it’s in the lengths of the songs. Virtually every track is about four and a half minutes long, but it’s not clear they all needed all of that runtime. On the other side, it also feels like a missed opportunity to not let one or two songs off the leash to breathe a bit longer. It’s hard to point to any song that is specifically harmed by the consistency of run-times, but such a dreamy album deserves a bit more space for contemplative reflection.

Highlights: Whisky Fight, Dance Floor, On Hold, ADD Heart

7. Lana Del Rey – Norman Fucking Rockwell

An album that inspired some intense thinkpieces, and then some even more intense thinkpieces about the responses to the first thinkpieces. My recommendation: skip all the psychoanalyzing and just listen to the music. Because the music is good! It’s still very obviously a Lana Del Ray record, so you can probably determine whether you’ll like it based solely on that. But it’s also very obviously her best record yet—more mature both sonically and stylistically, without losing any of the deftness of her older work. Her voice remains smoky as hell, and her lyrics retain an intense level of self-referentiality. But instead of being clunky or offputting, that combination blends together perfectly here to generate a powerful sense of reflexiveness. It’s genuinely affecting, in a way that I would never have guessed she’d be able to sustain for a full album. Which, to that point, things do run a little bit too long, with a decided lull in the middle. But the opening trio of songs are genuinely epic, and the final run that begins with California is almost equally as good.

Highlights: Venice Bitch, California, Mariners Apartment Complex, The Greatest, The Next Best American Record

6. Harmony Woods – Make Yourself At Home

A huge step forward for Sofia Verbilla, whose last record was one of my favorite albums of 2017. That one was pleasant, and more than a bit poignant. But this one is so much more—still resonant with her DIY origins, but bigger, bolder, richer, darker. More than anything, it’s absolutely full of life, and the beautiful, harrowing pain that comes along with it. Over the course of the album, she tracks a relationship from its messy beginnings to its codependent nadir, ending with an ambivalent moment of self-realization. There’s no triumph here, and barely a promise of recovery. As she says at the start of the album and again in the final track: “Seasons change, people stay the same.” And so the best you can hope is that processing the trauma is enough to make you stronger, without constructing so much emotional armor that you can never find a way to feel vulnerable again.

Highlights: The City’s Our Song, Best Laid Plans, Best Laid Plans II, Misled, That’s Okay

5. The Day – Midnight Parade

The debut record from The Day is almost the textbook example of perfect dream pop—shimmering, tender, infused with a deep sense of empathy and care. In it I hear everything I’ve ever loved about the mid-90s Sarah Records, joining forces with all the wonderful textures of the great Labrador Records bands of the mid 2000s. The result is a joyous symphony, which feels intimate and deeply personal, while also conveying a sense of universality. Like any good shoegaze record, it lends itself this sort of abstraction. At the same time, like any good jangle pop record, it’s a perfect accompaniment to an afternoon drive when all you want is a wash of joyous sound. But it’s also the sort of record that lends itself to cozying up by a fire with some good headphones. Because as you dig into every nook and cranny, you discover just how precisely all the details have been rendered. Every note, every drum fill, every slight pause…they’re all laid down with intention and care.

In the end the unifying theme of Midnight Parade is pretty simple: it offers a sense of deep melancholy tempered by a powerful and unrelenting faith in the potential for human beings to reach across barriers and find reasons to love. And, to be honest, it’s hard to think of a message that’s more important in 2019.

Highlights: We Killed Our Hearts, The Years, Berlin, Grow, Illuminate

4. Jetty Bones – –

I’ve spent a decade or more hoping we’d get a masterpiece from Hayley Williams. It’s never quite happened, but this EP from Jetty Bones more than makes up for it. These songs offer a consistent, devastating blend of pop fireworks and a deep sense of pain that is terribly specific to youth. The central theme: the moment when the deep cruelty of the world pierces your ironic detachment and makes you realize just how goddamn much a person can hurt. It’s a time-honored topic, but one that is terribly hard to avoid striking without descending into self-parody. There are few better examples of perfectly striking the balance than this record. One critical thing that helps the process: the decision to pack a full LP’s worth of hooks into just six songs. It won’t be for everyone, but if you’re in a place in your life where getting sucked into a maelstrom of emotions sounds like a good time, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a better way to spend 18 minutes.

Highlights: All six songs, but especially Bringing It Up and The Rest of the Them

3. Teen Daze – Bioluminescence

An electronic album that feels entirely organic.  Each song is a jewel, gaining more texture and meaning with each listen. Throughout, there is a feeling of restraint–perhaps distance–but it’s a distance that calls for resolution. Each track evokes a specific sense of time and place. A cool autumn night on the moors. A bright summer morning as the breeze rustles a set of wind chimes. A dark winter night, with wolves howling in the distance. This is a dance record, but also a record for quiet contemplation, and also a record to roll the windows down and blast on a summer day. The one constant is a sense of wonder.

Who knows but that on the lower frequencies, it speaks for us.

Highlights: Near, Endless Light, Ocean Floor, Longing

2. Westkust– Westkust

This album is big, messy, glorious, raucous. It’s everything you ever wanted from a shoegaze record and everything you ever wanted from a punk record combined together into something that exceeds all of its parts. Rampaging guitars, thumping drums, a rising wave of sound that peaks and then cascades down like a river pouring over the edge of a cliff. As you hang suspended within this waterfall, singer Julia Bjernelind’s voice bursts forth like the midday sun, casting a rainbow all around you.

Highlights: Cotton Skies, Drive, On the Inside, Adore, Daylight

1. Charly Bliss– Young Enough

This record is a bildungsroman for the ages. It’s about the little spaces that reside in between moments of transition. The feeling of no longer being young but still not being an adult. The sense of vertigo that you feel in between the decision to end a bad relationship and actually working up the willpower to do it. The indescribable pain of having been hurt but lacking the vocabulary to define how it was done. And it’s all wrapped up in a glorious bow of new wave synths and fuzzy guitar lines.

Guppy was a very nice record, but one that didn’t necessarily stick with me. Young Enough delivers on every promise from their first effort, and then some. These songs are glimmer like fireflies as they dance and weave around you. From the stately march of Blown to Bits to the pedal-to-the-metal acceleration of Under You to the bubblegum trauma of Chatroom to the beautifully pure finale The Truth. But at the center of it all is the title track, one of the most cathartic songs ever produced.

Highlights: Young Enough, Under You, Blown to Bits, Chatroom, The Truth, Hard to Believe

Honorable Mentions:

William Tyler – Goes West
I Am Snow Angel – Mothership
Charli XCX – Charli
Infinity Crush – Virtual Crush
Josh Ritter – Fever Breaks
Andreas Söderström & Rickard Jäverling – Adelsö
Barker – Utility
Dakota – Here’s The 101 On How To Disappear
Astronoid – Astronoid
Lily & Madeleine – Canterbury Girls

I ran a poll this week. It started with one simple question: “If you could ban one single Christmas song – it could never be played, covered, or heard in any form ever again – what would you choose?”

I then asked for for voters to explain what makes the song so bad. This is obviously nothing like a scientific poll, but it produced some interesting results. Read on, and be careful about getting some terrible songs stuck in your head.

Christmas Shoes – 11 votes

This song is obviously terrible, with voters mentioned its “extremely manipulative and unimaginative lyrics” and calling it “mawkish,” “depressing,” and a song that “makes you feel miserable.” None of the voters mentioned the way it sounds, but the production is also dreadful and cloying. Given all that, it’s not hard to understand how it ended up topping the list. I do have to say, though, that I never hear this song out in the wild. I’ve only ever encountered it through lists of ‘worst Christmas songs’ or that Patton Oswalt bit. So while I can’t disagree with anyone who picked it, I do have to wonder if this would really be the most strategic song to ban. Consider some of the ones to follow, and then think about how often you’re subjected to them…

Wonderful Christmastime – 9 votes

Voters were pretty clear about what they didn’t like about this song. Some sample comments: “It’s just monotonous,” “Horrible repetition,” “Infinite ear worm,” and “It is unmelodic and repetitive and banal and GETS STUCK IN YOUR HEAD ANYWAY.” I can’t really disagree with any of those comments, though I have to admit I have a small soft spot in my heart for this one. Yes, it’s repetitive and obnoxious, but you have to respect the craft that went into to producing such concentrated dosages. Turns out Paul McCartney has a pretty good ear for pop melodies, even when he’s choosing to use his powers for evil.

Santa Baby – 7 votes

As one voter put it: “Who TF wants to hear a song about sexy Santa?” Another put it even more directly: “I do not want to fuck santa.” Others objected to the “cutesy vocals,” which…yeah.

Do They Know It’s Christmas – 6 votes

Come for the terrible production, stay for the mind-boggling levels of paternalism. Put it together and you’ve got a strong contender for worst song of all-time, never mind the Christmas limitation. It’s really that bad. As one voter said, it’s “problematic in so many ways.” Another voter noted several fundamental issues–from the grouping together of all Africa to the assumption that ‘they’ don’t know it’s Christmas (there are lots of Christians in Africa!) to “there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmas time.” Which as the voter notes, will be surprising news to anyone living around Kilimanjaro.

Baby It’s Cold Outside – 6 votes

As one person commented: “Where to start?” Several others knew exactly where to start: “It’s a rape song.” As one voter noted, it’s not even really a Christmas Song, but it’s so offensive that it’s probably worth banning just to be safe.

Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer – 6 votes

It’s a novelty song, and I guess it’s supposed to be funny, but it’s really not. Pretty much across the board, voters for this song focused on the pretty reasonable position that “Christmas songs shouldn’t be mean!”

Last Christmas – 6 votes

Despite getting six votes, this one generated no particularly exciting comments. One person simply said “It’s just a bit shit,” another only complained that it’s not really a Christmas song, and several others left no comment at all. So despite being among the finalists, it didn’t seem to generate the kind of visceral hatred that I saw for some of the other heavy hitters. From my perspective, this is an example of a nice song that isn’t done many favors by its most popular incarnation. The Wham original is pretty awful, actually, but the underlying song is perfectly decent. Check out this Robyn cover, for example, or this one from Jimmy Eat World. They’re nice!

Little Drummer Boy – 6 votes

This one generated a strong competitor for my favorite comment: “What the fuck kind of lyric is pa rum pum pum pum and why does it happen so often? Kill it with fire.” I find it extremely hard to argue with that premise.

Other votes

It wasn’t all doom and gloom. One voter voted for “None, they’re all beautiful!” which was lovely. Which contrasts with three respondents who offered some variation of “all Christmas music.” In one case the explanation was pretty simple: “I’m Jewish.” The others seemed mostly frustrated by the inescapability and repetition.

One person voted for “Any song that isn’t Carol of the Bells” and provided a pretty straightforward explanation: “Because Carol of the Bells is the only good Christmas song.” They probably will not want to hang out with the two voters who picked Carol of the Bells as the worst Christmas song.

Novelty songs received a fair number of votes, with the top contender being The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don’t Be Late). Some sample comments: “It’s by the chipmunks,” “the chipmunk voices,” “the chipmunks,” and “it’s obvious.”

Three voters picked Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, with one commenting that the “notes are in the wrong order.” I’m not sure what that means, but it seems plausible. In the same vein, Santa Claus is Coming to Town also got three votes, with the primary objection being the “threatening lyrics.”

My personal choice – Jingle Bell Rock – only picked up three votes. But I deeply empathize with whoever wrote “Why do Jingle Bells need to rock? That twangy guitar in the beginning gives me PTSD flashbacks.” On a similar note, one voter picked Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, simply saying “It’s anything but ‘Rockin.'”

Finally, a few misguided souls picked legitimately great songs. Top of the list was All I Want for Christmas Is You. I would have picked this as one of the most universally beloved songs of the modern era, but it received four votes! One person didn’t object to the song, but rather wanted to ban the Justin Bieber version. I respect that as a tactical vote. But the others…I don’t have a good explanation. Especially the person whose explanation consisted entirely of the claim “Mariah Carey can’t sing.” That has to just be trolling, right?

And then there was the voter who picked Christmas Wrapping, objecting to “The monotone singing, the shitty lyrics, all of it.” Which…well, it’s a poll and everyone is entitled to their opinion. Speaking of which, another voter went for Fairytale of New York. You can guess how I feel about that.

Larger themes

One interesting theme from the data: the virtual absence of any of the classic Christmas music. There were a few votes for O Little Town of Bethlehem, Jingle Bells, and Carol of the Bells. But there were zero votes for Silent Night, none for God Rest You Merry Gentlemen, none for Hark! The Herald Angels Sing, none for O Holy Night. The pop songs of the 20th century did far worse.

Another common feature among many of the top selections is a brutal combination of catchiness and repetitiveness. That’s obviously the central complaint about Wonderful Christmastime, and a big part of why it ended up near the top. But it also applies to Feliz Navidad (4 votes), which one voter suggested “sticks in your head to the point you want to gouge out your ears with an icepick.” One voter emphasized repetitiveness in their critique of Little Town of Bethlehem. Another said the same thing about Jingle Bells. And actually, I’m surprised that it didn’t end up with more than just two votes. It’s a terrible earworm, not to mention an ubiquitous one. Seems like a prime candidate for a targeted assassination. Same thing is true for The 12 Days of Christmas, which also only got two votes, but is awful.

Several voters mentioned having to work in retail. Once again, Wonderful Christmastime is a prime target here. One voter said “All cheerful Christmas songs are torture when you work holiday retail but this is THE WORST ONE.” Another voter talked about their experience in retail driving their hatred of I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday, which can easily sear their way into the brains of the poor souls subjected to it.

And that’s ultimately the issue. There are plenty of obnoxious, aggressively catchy, horrifyingly trite Christmas songs, just like there are plenty of terrible songs in every genre. But everywhere else the selection pool of songs is much broader and more diverse. Walk into a grocery store for ten months of the year and you might hear the Rolling Stones or Madonna or Rihanna. Walk in during November or December and you’ll hear the same 150 songs over and over and over. Even if you like a lot of these songs – as I do – they quickly become aggravating when they change from optional to inescapable.

And that’s just for holiday civilians, who merely move through retail spaces. I have trouble even wrapping my mind around what it would be like to work in those environments. Especially when the Christmas season seemingly gets longer and longer each year. So if you found a few songs to loathe on this list, spare a thought for those living under the weight of their constant presence.

On bended knee
Will you marry me
And on November 16
Everything was buried down

Carissa’s Wierd are my favorite band that doesn’t include both Lennon and McCartney. Obviously, the largest part of that love is simply about the music itself. They wrote desperately sad, quiet, beautiful songs about heartbreak and hope and then offered them to the world like a series of secret gems glittering in the night.

But it’s not just the music. There’s also something specific about the band you discover when you’re nineteen years old, whose songs catch you wholly unguarded and etch themselves so deeply that they become part of you. For me, that was Carissa’s Wierd.

I saw them three times in Seattle while I was in college and they were deeply emotional experiences. This quiet little band that I adored with all my heart was standing there in front of me, awkwardly shuffling in between songs, obviously a little bit uncomfortable with the adulation pouring over them from the crowd. They whispered into their microphones, strummed their guitars, picked out ringing notes, and soared on a violin wave.

But all good things must come to an end, and so it was with this band. They recorded a few songs for the fourth album but never finished it. And so I was left scrounging for b-sides and live tracks, proudly wearing a shirt with their name on it, wishing there could have been just a little bit more.

I’ve been able to see several of the individuals from the band play in the years since—including a show where Jenn opened for Mat’s band. But the last time I heard them play these songs was that famous-for-those-who-love-them Valentine’s Day show back in 2003. When the band briefly reunited for a couple shows about ten years ago, I was distraught about not being able to go.

So this time, when they announced a brief three-city tour to play the old songs, I started making plans. It’s 2000 miles from Texas out to Seattle, but I still have family out here and this was as good a time as any to make the trip. And that’s how I ended up at the Fremont Abbey on Saturday night (November 16th, perfectly enough).

It was a strange experience to be in a room with a couple hundred other people who shared my love for this obscure indie band. And even stranger to see two people approaching middle age—with relatively stable, happy lives—playing these songs that are so specifically about being young and lost. But ultimately that’s what the show was actually about—a sort of reminiscence and shared appreciation of how much these songs meant to all of us then, and important they still remain even though we’ve all grown and moved on.

It hit me pretty hard. The performances weren’t flawless—as you might expect for a thrown-together three-city tour from two old friends who hadn’t played together in years. But I was pretty overwhelmed by energy in the room when those quiet chords rang out. Within the first three songs they had played two of my favorite songs in the entire world, and my eyes were moist. A few songs later I was legitimately crying as the guitars chimed and their voices soared. “My heart is gone” indeed.

They ended up playing back-to-back shows because the first one sold out so quickly. So naturally I got tickets for both. It was a unique experience seeing everything repeated, especially given how emotional the first show had been. The second time I had a little more distance and was just able to focus on my joy at hearing these songs I love so much, and appreciating the feeling of sharing a space with other fans of this quiet little band.

I know this band isn’t ‘the one’ for all that many people out there. But I hope that everyone has a chance for something like this kind of experience—to come back to something you love and miss and see it live again for one special night.

For me, the last ten years have been a decade defined by the increasing prominence of women. The music industry is still nowhere close to a zone of perfect equality, but it’s more open than it’s ever been. The result has been an explosion of new artists who don’t fit the old standards but whose music more than speaks for itself.

As always, this is a list of my favorites. I make no claim that these are objectively the best. They’re just the ones I liked the most.

Songs list here.

1. Japandroids – Celebration Rock (2012)

It leaps from the speakers like a thunderstorm raging through the sky. Each song is a bolt of lightning, crackling with intensity and piecing the dark sky. And, long after the initial strike, the reverberations rumble around you.

This record is perfect in the same way that stepping into a brisk night feels perfect after being trapped in a stuffy room. Or the way that a first kiss is perfect, even if you don’t end up spending your life with that person. It’s not about finding answers. It’s about struggling, and remembering what it feels like to laugh and love cry. What it feels like to be alive. 

The centerpiece is The House That Heaven Built, which might genuinely be the greatest rock and roll song ever recorded. But Fire’s Highway is almost equally incandescent. Continuous Thunder rumbles in the deep. Adrenaline Nightshift delivers on its title in spades. The whole thing is only eight songs long, but every one a masterpiece.

It seems almost beside the point to call this the my favorite record of the decade. Celebration Rock brushes past the need for analysis or comparison. It just makes one simple request: listen, and love.

2. Grimes – Art Angels (2015)

Tour de force doesn’t even begin to describe this record. This is the work of a genius, at the peak of her powers, flexing her muscles and discovering that the laws of physics no longer constrain her. Anything is possible in her hands, from bold and bright pop (California) to the jagged edges of a concealed blade (Kill V. Maim) to a moment of pure and unadulterated beauty (the Realiti demo). Or, rather than dabbling, why not mix it all together into a singular creation: the perfect dance track, which sings to us through the dimensions, and speaks of potential as yet beyond the reach of our philosophy (Flesh Without Blood). In an era where ‘pop’ and ‘art’ and ‘rock’ find themselves enmeshed in a Stately Quadrille, Grimes rises like a Colossus above the shifting terms and phrases of engagement, looking down with disdain upon those who waste their time fighting about authenticity and facsimile. Whatever music is, or should be, it’s here.

3. Jason Isbell – Southeastern (2013)

Honest, heart-wrenching, desolate, beautiful, bleak. Hopeful. This record is the living document of a man coming face to face with his demons and triumphing. But that triumph is only found at the very edges, hard-won, and even harder to sustain. The context is Isbell’s struggle to get sober. But the record’s genius comes partly from Isbell’s recognition that if he wanted to tell the true story, it could only be done obliquely. The characters in his stories certainly serve allegorical functions, but the connection is never explicitly made. The songs don’t stand for particular emotions, or particular struggles. Instead, they reflect attitudes, values, fears. They’re perspectives, which illuminate faces of a life that can never be grasped in its totality.

One relative constant is that all of these people are constantly on the move, on frontiers, at the margins of society. In many cases the plot details are left completely unfilled. All we know is that standing still somehow means giving up. Rather than filling in the plot details or etching a backstory, we zoom in close on specific details. Some of the albums most powerful moments come from little fragments of conversations, the sorts of things that haunt your memory long after the details are lost.

And finally, it all comes back to this: Southeastern is more than anything else an album about love. It’s about the person who finally pushed him into action, the person who was finally worth doing it for. The hardest part of getting help can often be accepting that you are not in control – that as much as your actions seem to be intentional and directed, somehow you’ve lost sight of your true self. This is a terrifying proposition. But maybe, just maybe, getting better doesn’t have to mean running from who you once were. Maybe it just means finding a way to stop running, at least for a little while. If we’re lucky, we still can find ourselves – and share that self with someone who loves us. And tomorrow, we have to try again. And the next day. And the next.

4. The War on Drugs – Lost in the Dream (2014)

This record single-handedly proves that rock and roll is still a vibrant genre, capable of telling us important things about who we are and who we might become. Combine Highway 61 era Dylan with the mid-80s Springsteen, mix in some Love Over Gold era Dire Straits, bring in the Heartbreakers as a backing band, and have Bryan Ferry produce the thing, and you’ll start to get the idea of what’s going on here. But in spite of all those references, Lost in the Dream never sounds even remotely dated. Adam Granduciel has somehow achieved the impossible: an album swimming in classic rock references that feels intensely specific to this decade.

5. Charly Bliss – Young Enough (2019)

This record is a bildungsroman for the ages. It’s about the little spaces that reside in between moments of transition. The feeling of no longer being young but still not being an adult. The sense of vertigo that you feel in between the decision to end a bad relationship and actually working up the willpower to do it. The indescribable pain of having been hurt but lacking the vocabulary to define how it was done. And it’s all wrapped up in a glorious bow of new wave synths and fuzzy guitar lines.

Guppy was a very nice record, but one that didn’t necessarily stick with me. Young Enough delivers on every promise from their first effort, and then some. These songs are glimmer like fireflies as they dance and weave around you. From the stately march of Blown to Bits to the pedal-to-the-metal acceleration of Under You to the bubblegum trauma of Chatroom to the beautifully pure finale The Truth. But at the center of it all is the title track, one of the most cathartic songs ever produced.

6. Camp Cope – How to Socialise & Make Friends (2018)

A bracing record, which details the burdens of living in a world that treats women’s bodies as commodities, to be used and discarded at whim. A world which cares deeply about appearing to be fair and just, but which lashes out with violence when you dare to ask when things are actually ever going to get better. A world in which the simple joys are enough to keep you afloat, no matter how much it all hurts.

Wittgenstein famously said “Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.” Camp Cope offers an alternative. Where one cannot speak, one must sing. And if you can find a couple friends to pound out a few bass riffs along the way, all the better.

7. Sufjan Stevens – Carrie & Lowell (2015)

There really isn’t much to say about Sufjan that hasn’t already been said, to be honest. Back in my very first post on this blog (almost 15 years ago!), I referred to his music as ‘devastating beautiful’ and this album does nothing to dissuade me of that opinion. In many ways, it’s the perfect condensation of what he’s offered us over the years. As delicate as Seven Swans, as emotional as Michigan, as exquisite as Illinois, as adventurous as Adz. But the feelings. Oh, the feelings.

Did you get enough love, my little dove
Why do you cry?
And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best
Though it never felt right
My little Versailles

What else could I possibly add?

8. Grouper – The Man Who Died in His Boat (2013)

Liz Harris gives voice to the deep structures of the universe: its vastness, the empty reaches of space. But also its material resonances: the living and breathing impossibility of life. These songs are hazy windows into an alternate reality where humans never left the savannahs and the rest of the world continued on its own. Her words are indistinct, unknowable, sinking below the surface even before they are sung. They ask you to listen for the gaps in that which seems whole. The point is not to attack the false precision of modernity, but simply reflect it back upon itself. In doing so we become aware of the endless waves of uncertainty and doubt that lie beneath them.

If this all sounds too abstract or distant, it is absolutely not. These are some of the most emotionally present songs you are ever likely to hear. They speak of loneliness and deep longing. The hiss of the tape, the ethereality of a human voice, the blurrily plucked guitar notes, the background vibrations of atoms singing, all of these things live together here in a kind of discordant harmony so beautiful that I can’t ever hope to describe it.

9. Hamilton – Original Cast Recording (2015)

It took me awhile to truly fall in love with Hamilton, but it’s one of the records I’ve gone back to the most in the past five years. And every single listen reveals something new. A turn of phrase, a motivation, a reference. The story of Hamilton’s career–the surrounding political climate, the competing passions which drive him to success and to ruin–is fascinating in its own right. But it’s given far more depth and emotion by unifying the personal and political. It brings the Founding generation to life in a way that was entirely unexpected, but feels inevitable once you’ve heard it.

10. Westkust – Westkust (2019)

This album is big, messy, glorious, raucous. It’s everything you ever wanted from a shoegaze record and everything you ever wanted from a punk record combined together into something that exceeds all of its parts. Rampaging guitars, thumping drums, a rising wave of sound that peaks and then cascades down like a river pouring over the edge of a cliff. As you hang suspended within this waterfall, singer Julia Bjernelind’s voice bursts forth like the midday sun, casting a rainbow all around you.

11. Mimi Page – The Ethereal Blues (2015)

Orchestral sweeps, trip-hop beats, lyrics that speak of a deep well of sadness, but which elevate rather than weigh down. I hear tinges of Enya, of Massive Attack, of Goldfrapp, of Morcheeba. The closest reference, though, has to be the early Tori Amos. It’s deep, immaculately produced, full of rich sensations, textures, and melodies as uncanny as they are gorgeous. It’s also truly an album to be experienced in totality. For all the wondrous beauty of the individual components, the true genius is in the careful layering of possibilities from song to song. With each new essay, fresh angles are revealed, more possibilities uncovered. One track is mesmerizingly beautiful, spare, delicate: an invitation. The next brings tension, apprehensiveness, even fear. And then the senses twine together, introducing a spirit of disquiet, and then an invitation to resolution. The process is dialectical: endlessly provocative, eternally haunting. Each time I return, it begins again, and I find new reasons to love it.

12. Dirty Diamonds – Monster Ballads (2010)

This record burst out of nowhere, and immediately grabbed my heart. The Dirty Diamonds put out a few more singles but then disappeared without a trace. And so we’re left with little more than this single EP–six soul songs in the tradition of the best girl groups of the 1960s, mixed with a dash of punk spirit and some hints of electro dance pop. It’s a time-tested brew, but seldom accomplished with this sort of skill or aplomb. Harmonies that soar and dip, insistent tambourine-driven beat, great pulsating bass lines, and a looseness that makes everything sound fresh beyond words.  It’s light and so free that your heart almost wants to burst. It’s not complex.  It’s not sophisticated.  It doesn’t take on any difficult concepts or themes. But it makes me ridiculously, ludicrously happy. And what more can you ask for?

13. Japandroids – Near to the Wild Heart of Life (2017)

It was inevitable that the followup to Celebration Rock would disappoint a bit. So it’s no surprise that this one left me a little bit cold when I first heard it. But as time has passed, I’ve found myself returning to it more and more. And I’ve discovered gems that originally passed me by. Like its predecessor, this is a joyful record. But they’ve traded in a bit of the youthful bombast and replaced it with a more measured sense of attention. Sure, there is something lost in the change. But there is also something gained: a looseness and easiness that comes with age and experience. More than anything, to me it sounds like an ode to the great midwest bar rock bands of the 80s: Husker Du and The Replacements, and the like. It’s not Celebration Rock, but it’s still a damn good rock and roll record.

14. Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (2010)

This record strikes me as the key inflection point in the career of Kanye West. It’s the moment when his immense musical talent and work ethic smashed headfirst into his neuroses and ego, producing a record for the ages in the process. It’s audacious, intricate, intimate, dangerous, ridiculous, amazing. Just about any superlative you can come up with will apply to this record–and not just the positive ones. It’s full of mistakes, weird missteps, awkward phrases and bizarre musical turns. He’s terribly off-key in a number of places, his flow is good but nothing special, there are plenty of lines that fall flat. And yet, somehow, none of this matters.

This is a record that lays bare with exquisite detail the deepest parts of our souls, the parts that want to destroy the things that we love, that don’t know how to accept good things.  The self-hatred that manifests itself in aggressive self-promotion, the desperation that makes us shrug off the pain. There’s an intense sadness, a plaintive honesty, and an inescapable fear.

15. Camera Obscura – Desire Lines (2013)

It’s soft, relaxed, and cozy, like your favorite hoodie that you throw on to keep you happy on a chilly day. The sort of music you play on a warm summer morning to keep you company while you garden. It’s certainly not empty of content – there is a deep strain of melancholy that runs through the record – but it’s fundamentally an empathic work. We have it in ourselves to be great, it says, but before we can try we must first be good.

For the most part, the record moves from fast-paced jangle-pop to slower tracks tinged with just a bit of doo-wop and soul. Of the former, the clear highlight is Troublemaker which jingles and jangles its way right into your heart, and features that great Tracyanne Campbell voice. It’s one of their best tracks to date, a genuine little pop masterpiece. Of the slower tracks, This is Love (Feels Alright) blends a measured and ever so slightly ornate pace with slight vocal swoops to fine effect, while New Year’s Resolution is delightfully wistful and Desire Lines builds off a nicely understated country vibe – with Campbell’s voice providing a lovely counterpoint to the slide guitar.

This isn’t a record that will blow you away, but it’s all the better for not trying to do so. What you get is pretty simple: 13 great songs, no missteps, no wasted space. Nothing but gorgeous music.

16. Beirut – The Rip Tide (2011)

I haven’t always loved Zach Congdon’s music, largely because it often feels a little bit affected. But on The Rip Tide, he struck gold. This is  a record built with intense care, but which never feels the slightest bit precious or posed. It’s a devotional to the world itself. Across its nine songs, you are granted access to a world more beautiful, more pure, more free than our own. The subject is solitude, of camaraderie, of loss, and the things we eventually find to replace the irreplaceable. It is the remembrances of past loves.

Each song is perfectly balanced, from the quiet and reflective Goshen to the enthusiastic gait of Vagabond to the silky smooth waves of The Rip Tide. However, A Candle’s Fire is the tour de force. It is the sound of the rising sun burning the horizon red and gold. The horns are warm, full of vitality and care. And they receive a perfect counterpoint in Congdon’s voice, which is rich and smoky.

At just 33 minutes, this record comes and goes before you know it. The only recourse is to return to the beginning and let it play again, and again.

17. Jon Hopkins – Immunity (2013)

A stunning array of different sound textures, beats, and emotional registers. The glitchy “Open Eye Signal” invites frantic dancing, while “Breathe This Air” is far more seductive – melding together a throbbing beat with the delicate application of single piano strikes. However, the true emotional core of this album is on the softer pieces. Of those, “Abandon Window” is an exercise in restraint – built around the sparest of piano notes and an ever-so-gently rising wave of supporting harmonics. It’s about as pure and beautiful of a song as you can imagine.

And yet, it still can’t possibly compare to the incredible, impossible perfection of the title track. At just under 10 minutes long, and with no dramatic flourishes or moments of release, there is nothing here to suck you in directly. But as it slowly unfolds, you feel the whole world drawing closer, and every line of consciousness beginning to blur. For me, the experience is encapsulated in the line from Milan Kundera: “Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.”

18. Taylor Swift – 1989 (2014)

There’s something to be said for an intricately crafted pop song. And that something is ‘yes, please.’ This record is stuffed full of great verses, catchy choruses, pleasingly oblique bridges. The production levels are through the roof. And if a few of the lines are a bit clunky, that’s just part of the charm.

19. Frightened Rabbit – Pedestrian Verse (2013)

Frightened Rabbit spent most of the last decade as my favorite band on the planet. They didn’t release a single life-changing record like 2008’s Midnight Organ Fight, but they did produce three records that could each easily have made this list. In the end, this one just managed to be my favorite. It’s probably the most sophisticated record they ever released. Where much of their music was defined by sadness, self-loathing, or pain, this one is unique for communicating a certain degree of violence. But it’s violence for a purpose. If Midnight Organ Fight was a record about the intense subjectivity of pain–the way that it feels utterly unique and impossible to share–this album is far more about anger, the painful struggle of coming to terms with all the ways that we can never quite be the best version of ourselves. And that feeling, for all its intense sadness, invites a degree of empathy. As you struggle to find a place in the world, you can’t help but realize that everyone else is doing the same thing.

The result is an album about social pain, as opposed to an album about emotional pain. It’s cathartic – not in the sense of offering release from the demons that trouble us, but in the way that it lets us perceive things in a new light. It’s less rending, but tremendously heartening nonetheless.

RIP, Scott.

20. The War on Drugs – A Deeper Understanding (2017)

While this one isn’t (quite) as mind-blowing as Lost in the Dream, it’s still one of the best of the decade. The synths are a bit overbearing in places, and the production is just a bit too airy for my tastes. But there is no denying these songs. Propulsive, introspective, joyous, weathered.

21. Cloud Nothings – Here and Nowhere Else (2014)

Rock and roll doesn’t demand that you say something new. It just demands that you say it with passion. Well, this record has passion. The melodies are tight, the drums thunder, the guitars lift you up and send you tumbling. From the first note, it snarls and bites and doesn’t give you a moment to think.

22. Allo Darlin’ – Europe (2012)

Absolutely pitch-perfect jangle pop. There is no artifice; just the simple joy of being alive in a world with such beautiful music. “You haven’t felt this way since 1998” they sing on the title track, and that’s exactly right.  This is the greatest record that Sarah Records never got a chance to give us.  Or, alternatively, this is the record I have desperately been hoping that Camera Obscura might produce.  But more than anything else, it’s music to fall in love to.

23. Vanessa Peters – The Burden of Unshakeable Proof (2016)

Another wonderful record from one of my favorite artists of the millennium. As always, there’s a timelessness to her music – one of those things that seems easy but is actually incredibly difficult to pull off. Turn on any ‘adult contemporary radio station’ and you’ll get endless attempts at this sort of timelessness, all of which do nothing more than evoke nostalgia for the ever-receding present. It’s a grim business.

But The Burden of Unshakeable Proof is completely different. Its defining feature is a deep sense of connection between past, present, and future. A recognition that we are, all of us, struggling to make sense of a perpetually moving horizon – constrained by the choices of our past selves, full of anxiety about the what may yet come.  These songs reside in that liminal state between the two: the bright flickering present, weighted down by the obligations of past and future and yet still struggling to be free.

And that makes it the absolutely perfect record for a tough time in the world. As our politics feel so relentlessly grim, I’ve very much appreciated having this album by my side. It’s an important reminder that there is always beauty in this world, if we can just manage to find it.

24. Grimes – Visions (2012)

The breakout record from one of the most fascinating artists of the decade. It’s DIY electronica with dreamy pop movements and vocals that sound like they are being sung through a wormhole from Alpha Centauri. Her genius is to mash together bits and pieces from a wide range of genres, and in doing so create something that feels miles away from any of its reference points. Visions is to pop music as Cubism was to the world of linear perspective painting.

25. Pistol Annies – Interstate Gospel (2018)

Interstate Gospel feels like a careening Thelma & Louise ride through the countryside. Its central theme: the world has done us wrong, and we have kept receipts. But don’t worry, we’re not going to do anything really bad. Probably.

And while they’re polishing their pistols and considering just what sort of story this is going to end up being, they’ll take some time to reflect on how everything got so thoroughly fucked up. The answer isn’t simple. It’s a whole constellation of forces, which convince a woman to settle so often that she never quite realizes every important piece has been eaten way. Until, eventually, you look around and realize: “I’m in the middle of the worst of it / These are the best years of my life.”

Honorable Mentions:

Miranda Lambert – The Weight of These Wings (2016)
The National – Trouble Will Find Me (2013)
Frightened Rabbit – Painting of a Panic Attack (2016)
Phoebe Bridgers – Stranger in the Alps (2017)
Kacey Musgraves – Golden Hour (2018)
Haley Bonar – Last War (2014)
I Break Horses – Hearts (2011)
Bruce Springsteen – Wrecking Ball (2012)
Okkervil River – The Silver Gymnasium (2013)
Sleater Kinney – No Cities to Love (2015)

It’s fashionable to complain about the state of contemporary music these days (though really, when has declinism not been in vogue?), and there are some reasons to be a little bit down on what manages to rise to the top of the charts. But this really has been a glorious decade for music, in every genre and at every register. The democratization of production and consumption certainly hasn’t been an unadulterated good, but it has at least ensured that the long tail of artistic production is now truly available to the world at large. And that has made things incredible for consumers.

For artists, the story is more mixed. The commodities are widely available but compensation generally doesn’t follow. So I encourage everyone to treat list-making season as an opportunity to find some new things to love, and then go buy them. Or go to shows. Or buy merch. Something to put money into the pockets of these wonderful artists who enrich our lives.

For me, constructing this list was a real journey. My initial longlist ran to about 400 songs, and it was excruciating to narrow it down to just 50. But it was also a joyous process to go back and give each little gem another close look. These songs are etched deep inside me, and it’s wonderful to have an excuse to dig down and think seriously about what makes them each so good.

As always, these are just my favorites. I make no claim that they’re objectively the best.

1. The House That Heaven Built – Japandroids (2012)

To me, this is the greatest rock and roll song of all time. The drums are insistent, marching along with implacable resolve. There is a single stomping beat that drives everything forward faster and faster. And then there is a backbeat, the clashing of cymbals, and the ever-rising sense of explosive potential. This is a song to build empires around.

2. Realiti (demo) – Grimes (2015)

Her voice is ethereal as she weaves her way through a woozy forest of synths and tightly clipped percussive lines. It feels otherworldly, but also strangely familiar, like stepping inside a Van Gogh. The title is fitting, since this song–more than any other I have ever heard–communicates the strangely madness that comes from grasping the world in its unadulterated form. If it feels unreal, it’s only because our whole lives are spent building the artifice that encloses us.

3. Fire’s Highway – Japandroids (2012)

This song hits like a semi-truck, and burns with the unquenchable fire of youth. To spend even one moment filled with this sort of passion is to know what it truly means to be alive.

4. Emmylou – First Aid Kit (2012)

It’s an ode to love, companionship, partnership, and a long history of music. Their voices dance around each other, the guitar sliding around them without the tiniest bit of friction. And it’s all tied together by one of the greatest choruses in musical history—made all the better by those couple dipping notes on the guitar that immediately precede it.

5. Young Enough – Charly Bliss (2019)

Threaded tightly around a single chord guitar line, it builds and builds, until it feels like there is nothing left in the world except this song. One purpose of music is to communicate something fundamental about the human experience. On that count, I’m not sure it’s possible to succeed more completely than Charly Bliss did here.

6. Alabama Pines – Jason Isbell And The 400 Unit (2011)

A work of pure pathos from one of the finest songwriters on the planet. It’s achingly sad: a perfect encapsulation of a disenchanted Southern spirit, of dead-end dreams and a weariness with the world. His voice on the chorus brings me to my knees every time I hear it.

7. Silent Treatment – The Joy Formidable (2013)

If you went into a laboratory to design a song for me, you could hardly do better than this. A gorgeous double-tracked voice, backed by a delicate acoustic pluck, rising up and then falling around a single note…that’s what it takes to make my heart sing.

8. Black Synagogue – Angel Haze (2014)

At her best, Angel Haze is probably my favorite rapper in the world. And this is very much her best. “Black Synagogue” is full of rage and empathy and she spits it all out at 150 MPH.

9. We Found Love – Rihanna (2011)

Pop music is designed to be ephemeral. Even the best of it often fades away quickly. It’s the rare gem that not only lasts but gets better and better with time. We Found Love is such a gem. Its hopefulness and beauty have transcended the momentary and become universal. People will still be dancing to this song a hundred years from now.

10. Continuous Thunder – Japandroids (2012)

The album-closer on a rock and roll masterpiece, it has the impossible task of seeing the act off the stage. It does so by condensing everything down to one glorious question: “Would we love with a legendary fire?” The guitars swirl around and build, and build, and build. And finally, there really is nothing but continuous thunder.

11. Flesh without Blood – Grimes (2015)

In my book, Grimes was the most interesting artist of the last ten years. And this song really illustrates why. Just a couple years removed from the glitchy bedroom electro-beats of Visions and the wispy metronome clicks and murmurs of Halfaxa, Grimes released maybe the best banger of the whole decade. Every piece is in perfect balance, from the propulsive beat to the confident vocals to the buzzing bass.

12. When the Master Calls the Roll – Rosanne Cash (2014)

This is a song you could spend an entire lifetime hoping to write. Beautiful, expansive, heartbreaking, honest. I’m not sure it could have come from anyone but Rosanne Cash.

13. Yulia – Wolf Parade (2010)

The madness of the endless cosmos, the realization that you have already passed beyond the veil even as you still drift alone in the dark reaches of spaces – and that there is only one person far behind who will think of you. All tinged with a sense of awe to simply be out there. What a horrible, wonderful, deeply sad way to die…

14. Genesis – Grimes (2012)

I have no idea what on earth she is singing in this song, and I never want to find out.

15. Julian – Say Lou Lou (2013)

The harmonies are exquisite. It’s got the lush production that has characterized Swedish indie pop for the last decade, married to the atmospherics of classic Fleetwood Mac. It’s a heady combination – the sort of song you can listen to on repeat for hours.

16. C&F – Antarctica Takes It! (2010)

It’s a skittering song, rushing along breathlessly and begging you to try and keep up. It’s one of those tracks that has so many brilliant moments you can hardly believe that it’s only three minutes long. It’s like they’ve packed several years worth of pent-up ideas into one brilliant explosion. It’s got a lot of that 60s era vim and vigor, with words that seem to stumble over themselves with how eager they are to get out into the bright spring sun.

17. Sleepwalker – Julie Byrne (2017)

A song so pure and true that it makes my heart burst. To listen is an act of devotion. Whatever darkness may come, there is still light. And, maybe, the hope of solace for those in pain.

18. No Way Outro – I Break Horses (2011)

The last two minutes of this song are epic, but the thing that absolutely kills me is those two little bass notes that seem to trigger the tidal wave.

19. Graceless – The National (2013)

Berninger’s distinctively smoky voice, the tightly wound guitar lines, and above all that insistent drumming. And when it all comes together, it is sheer perfection. The final minute or so is absolutely, relentlessly good.

20. Elephant – Jason Isbell (2013)

A terrible, sad, heartbreaking song. And a strangely hopeful one. Because look: the girl is still going to die. All the kindness in the world can’t give her death any more dignity. Neither can love. After all, her family loves her, but she is still dying alone. What he can offer, maybe, is a kind of temporary solace in the loss of memory. He gives her the chance to forget what she is now and remember who she really is. Is that enough? We may never know. But we have to try anyways.

21. Immunity – Jon Hopkins (2013)

As it slowly unfolds you can sense the passing of years, perhaps even of lifetimes. A simple piano line establishes the structure of the song. But the true soul is doled out through the indecipherable chorus sung by King Creosote, whose voice perfectly clarifies the otherworldliness of the experience.

22. All of These Years – Vanessa Peters (2016)

There is no song in the entire decade that made me smile more than this one.

23. Only A Clown – Caitlin Rose (2013)

The alchemy of the verse and chorus – I’m sure there are technical explanations for why it works the way that it does, but I don’t know what they are. All I know is that I’m glad to live in a world where it exists.

24. Howl – The Gaslight Anthem (2012)

A sort of postscript to Thunder Road. Once again, there’s a girl whose dress waves and a guy with a car offering to take her away. But this Mary said ‘no’ to the first offer. She stuck around, went to school, and made a life for herself. And now our hero is back, because the one thing that never dies is hope. And when he sings “I waited on your call and made my plans to share my name” there’s nothing you can do but hope along with him.

25. Motion Sickness – Phoebe Bridgers (2017)

This song is so clever and bright that you almost miss how tightly constructed it is. Phoebe Bridgers has penned quite a few great songs in her young career already, but this is the best. And “I have emotional motion sickness” is one of the all-time great lines in music.

26. Meredith & Iris – Carissa’s Weird (2011)

A one-off project from Carissa’s Wierd, who reunited to release a single almost a decade after their last performances. It was a bolt of light in a long night, like Van Gogh returning from the dead, carrying a painting of heaven itself.

27. Should Have Known Better – Sufjan Stevens (2015)

It begins quiet and withdrawn, spare and beautiful. Then, on a perfect hinge, it transitions into something effusive, joyous, full of life and possibility. But in that leap, nothing from the previous half is lost, or forgotten. It all blends together, into an expression of pain, at a lost childhood, of love that went unsaid. And an expression of joy, at the way new families are formed. In the hope for the future. In the faith that, no matter how dark it is today, there’s always the possibility of sun tomorrow.

28. Land of Hope and Dreams – Bruce Springsteen (2012)

You get basically the entire Springsteen mythos here: trains, lost souls, community, redemption, and a killer saxophone solo from the Big Man (one of his very last, sadly). The fact that the mode of reference is almost anachronistic these days (who catches a train to their salvation in 2013?) is actually part of the point. It’s a call to remember what is great in our past, not to say that we can go back, but to caution us about what it means to move forward.

29. I’ve Got Wheels – Miranda Lambert (2016)

In the classic tradition of the American troubadour, Lambert concludes her long journey through the dark night of the soul with a bit of hope. There’s redemption to be found out there somewhere. “Whatever road, however long. I’ve got wheels. I’m rolling on.”

30. World Tour (Weezy, Wale, Dre) – Brenton Duvall (2011)

Picks out the chorus of Wale’s World Tour, and supplements it with lines from Lil’ Wayne and Forgot About Dre, placing each of them against a shimmering, beautiful, insistent background of electronica. The resulting creation sounds totally distinct and organic – it’s almost impossible to recall the individual components in their original form. The Dre part, in particular, is utterly different. What came off as aggressive and petulant when backed by Eminem now sounds strangely humble, even hopeful.

31. Capricornia – Allo Darlin’ (2012)

One of the finest jangle pop songs ever recorded, and possibly the best advertisement for visiting Australia I’ve ever heard.

32. Right Direction – The Dirty Diamonds (2010)

Great harmonies, an awesome underlying beat, a call and response bit at the end that’s just gleefully self-aware (“when I say Dirty, you say Diamonds”). It’s everything I love about 60s doo-wop acts combined with everything I love about electro dance pop. And it’s a right good time. If Right Direction doesn’t get you excited about life, then pretty much nothing will.

33. Red Eyes – The War On Drugs (2014)

I could listen to this song for months on repeat and never get tired of it. It’s so dense, a concentrated burst of rock and roll, full of passion and pathos and glorious rollicking energy. And when the full band returns at 3:35…you get one of the best musical moments of the whole decade. It gives me shivers.

34. The Opener – CAMP COPE (2018)

Equal parts rage and joy. Rage at a world of blatant injustice, filled with men who are utterly incapable of grasping the privileges they wield. But also joy at the sheer audacity of creation and the righteous noise they can make. It would be a great song for any era, but feels absolutely essential for the latter years of this decade.

35. Boom Clap – Charli XCX (2014)

A strong competitor for best chorus of the decade, with bonus points for its onomatopoeiatical effect.

36. Prodigal Dog – Hilary Woods (2018)

It seems insufficient to describe this song as haunting. It weaves itself around you, whispering promises of a world beyond our own. And if you tilt your head just right, you can almost see the veil between realities shimmering in the light. What lies on the other side? Do we dare to step across? That way lies madness…but also maybe redemption?

37. State Hospital – Frightened Rabbit (2012)

A picture of damage and loss, held at a distance. A life lived with little attention or care from those around. And the tiny threads of hope that allow you to keep putting one foot in front of the other. The possibility that someone might be waiting around the next corner to make it all seem worthwhile.

38. Don’t You Want to Share the Guilt – Kate Nash (2010)

This song build and builds, from something tiny and pure all the way up to a mad rant. And each move along the path is perfectly executed. To me, it hinges on the section just as the tide is turning, a little under three minutes in, when she whispers “listen” and the notes that follow are so piercingly clear. It’s when you begin to sense that something truly stunning is about to take place. And oh my does she deliver on that promise.

39. Sad Girls Club – Katie Ellen (2017)

It walks the knife’s edge between exuberance and depression with incredible poise. It seethes with anger, but cut sharply by an unshakeable sense of compassion. It’s a hymn for those who have been told to hide their pain and put on a happy face. For those who can no longer bear to maintain the illusion. And it absolutely slays.

40. Hope U Had Phun! – The Dirty Diamonds (2010)

It jumps right on top of you from the first note, wrapping you up in the most brilliantly orchestrated piece of New Wave, lo-fi, in your face girl-pop. This one of the most joyous songs of the decade, made all the better because I still can’t really understand why it works so well.

41. In Reverse – The War On Drugs (2014)

The emotional core of one of the best albums of the decade, this song resolves–or at least provides closure on–many of the themes that define the record: loss, separation, and depression. It opens with a long, slow wash. After several minutes, Granduciel enters the soundscape, sounding weary but still somehow hopeful. Then, halfway through, the song fully unfurls and it’s a genuinely cathartic moment of release.

42. Into You – Ariana Grande (2016)

An all-time great pop song. Her voice is sultry but pure. The beat insistent. The songwriting immaculate. And when she sings “I’m so into you,” taking a journey across several octaves in the process, your heart melts to a little puddle on the floor.

43. True Love and a Free Life of Free Will – Japandroids (2017)

Probably my favorite drumming of the decade, not for its complexity but for its brutal, glorious simplicity. It’s a simple round on repeat, but it gets inside of you and relentlessly builds until you feel like the whole world will blow to pieces.

44. Cotton Skies – Westkust (2019)

Roll down the windows and let this one blast out at full volume. Ride the storm until it lifts you straight up into heaven. This song rips. There’s really no other way to put it.

45. The Face of God – Camp Cope (2018)

I think a lot these days about just how much we ask of those who have been victimized. How little we are willing to listen. How certain we are that they must by lying, because we’re terrified to acknowledge just how normal this all is. It fills me with rage, and with an unspeakable sadness, a longing for the world to be as gentle and as kind as my heart insists that it should be.

46. In Heaven – Japanese Breakfast (2016)

It shimmers in the dark, like a distant city skyline on a cold November night. Then she starts singing and your breath catches in your throat, the way it does when someone’s about to tell you bad news and is just shuffling around, looking for the right words. But just as the bleakness threatens to overwhelm, she unleashes a chorus – so pure, so heartbreakingly sad, so beautiful – and the whole world shifts under your feet.

47. Troublemaker – Camera Obscura (2013)

So much to love about this song. The bridge is amazing – and the way it leads back into the fadeout is a wonderfully sustained interplay of harmonies and guitar. But ultimately I’m drawn back to the ringing guitar line that frames the song, and to Tracyanne Campbell’s glorious delivery.

48. Blank Space – Taylor Swift (2014)

It strikes the perfect balance between genuine non-ironic commitment to the premise and a slouching meta-commentary on what it’s like to be the biggest pop star in the world. The cleverness of the lyric is wonderfully counterpointed by a soaring vocal performance that makes a relatively compressed audio range feel incredibly expansive.

49. Always Gold – Radical Face (2011)

The opening verse to this song is one of my favorite musical moments of the decade. It is simple, beautiful, and aches all the way down to the marrow. It tells more in a few lines than most novels can mange. The plaintiveness of his voice is pitch-perfect, communicating a sort of triumphant resignation.

50. No More Shelter – Joan Shelley (2015)

Maybe the closest thing this world will ever come to a perfect hymn.

Honorable Mentions:
San Francisco (Little Daylight Remix) – The Mowgli’s (2013)
Words – Outer Spaces (2016)
One Sunday Morning (Song for Jane Smiley’s Boyfriend) – Wilco (2011)
Song For Zula – Phosphorescent (2013)
Green Light – Lorde (2017)
It’s Not My Fault, I’m Happy – Passion Pit (2012)
So Here We Are – Gordi (2016)
New Lover – Josh Ritter (2013)
Troublemaker, Doppelganger – Lucy Dacus (2016)
Dancing on My Own – Robyn (2010)