Top Fifteen Friday: Extra-Random Edition
1/06/2017 08:51:00 PM
Let's ring in 2017 with the return of Top
While reviewing my 2016 Last.fm charts like the massive nerd I am, I was reminded of a handful of songs I played the hell out of at some point during the year but failed to share for various reasons, whether it was because I got too caught up on the "2016 releases only" train or because something newer and shinier came along or because I wasn't sure if they were worth talking about. Well, hell, they're definitely worth talking about, and better late than never! So here they are: My Top 15 Most Overlooked Favorite Tracks of 2016 (That Weren't Necessarily Released in 2016), because that's somehow snappier than calling them the surplus of musical obsessions I had to get out of the way in order to move on to new ones.
15. Diana - Confession
I adore Diana's first album, Perpetual Surrender, so I really wanted to feel similarly about its follow-up, Familiar Touch, but I just don't think it's going to happen. The album is a little too meandering and subtle for my tastes, without nearly as many instantly infectious pop grooves. For me, "Confession" is easily the best track. Although the chorus is fairly simplistic, Carmen Elle's cool, casually defiant delivery of its repeated lines ("I'm not sorry, I just wanted you to know") quickly elevates it to addictive levels. In this case, the melodies are strong enough for the minimalist interplay of fragmented percussion, chilly synths, and minor-key piano to work. I only wish the rest of the album bridged the gap between catchy pop and chilled-out electronica as successfully.
14. Vienna Teng - Watershed
Vienna Teng is hit or miss for me, I think because she too often tends to take the purely pretty route over more surprising, experimental ones, which can get boring quickly. Her most recent effort, Aims, most successfully balances beauty and unexpectedness. However, I've also grown quite fond of its predecessor, Inland Territory. Although it does predominantly rely on an even-handed, temperate prettiness, there's an undercurrent of darkness that makes it interesting. Of course, it also helps that the songwriting is consistently high-quality. "Watershed" is an obvious highlight, masterfully building tension from alternating washes of moody, atmospheric piano and swells of sweeping, cinematic orchestration. Teng's richly emotive voice remains a calming presence in the midst of this finely-crafted storm.
I adore Diana's first album, Perpetual Surrender, so I really wanted to feel similarly about its follow-up, Familiar Touch, but I just don't think it's going to happen. The album is a little too meandering and subtle for my tastes, without nearly as many instantly infectious pop grooves. For me, "Confession" is easily the best track. Although the chorus is fairly simplistic, Carmen Elle's cool, casually defiant delivery of its repeated lines ("I'm not sorry, I just wanted you to know") quickly elevates it to addictive levels. In this case, the melodies are strong enough for the minimalist interplay of fragmented percussion, chilly synths, and minor-key piano to work. I only wish the rest of the album bridged the gap between catchy pop and chilled-out electronica as successfully.
14. Vienna Teng - Watershed
Vienna Teng is hit or miss for me, I think because she too often tends to take the purely pretty route over more surprising, experimental ones, which can get boring quickly. Her most recent effort, Aims, most successfully balances beauty and unexpectedness. However, I've also grown quite fond of its predecessor, Inland Territory. Although it does predominantly rely on an even-handed, temperate prettiness, there's an undercurrent of darkness that makes it interesting. Of course, it also helps that the songwriting is consistently high-quality. "Watershed" is an obvious highlight, masterfully building tension from alternating washes of moody, atmospheric piano and swells of sweeping, cinematic orchestration. Teng's richly emotive voice remains a calming presence in the midst of this finely-crafted storm.
13. Eskimeaux - Power
Early last year, Eskimeaux followed up 2015's impressive O.K. with an EP, Year of the Rabbit. Its songs are less intense and dynamic, which means they don't hold quite the same emotional potency. On the other hand, they play up Gabby Smith's talent for writing ridiculously catchy melodies more than ever. Despite the muted, unassuming nature of its production and Smith's tentative, whisper-soft vocals, "Power" has been stuck on and off in my head since I first heard it: the chorus is gentle as a summer breeze but sneaky as a ninja, and Smith's lyrics are always delightfully witty and self-deprecating. In one of the best opening verses of the year, she sings, "Wish I could love you less like a praying mantis/Rip your head off every time this starts to feel right/Wish I could love you less/Just love, that's it."
12. Des Ark - Don Taco and His Hot Sauce Toss
Aimée Argote's music as Des Ark is personal, honest, and emotional. It also comes packaged in song titles that sound like parodies of singer-songwriter tropes, from fake-deep revelations ("French Fries Are Magical") to incendiary declarations ("Peace to You Too, Motherfucker") to convoluted storytelling ("Don Taco and His Hot Sauce Toss"), revealing that even as she takes her craft seriously, she does so with a strong sense of humor. Musically, "Don Taco" is a playful, twangy acoustic romp, complete with hand claps and gang vocals, that rather perfectly fits the image conjured by its title. Lyrically, though, it takes a much darker turn: "I want my sister to carry me/To the top of the crypt by the willow tree/Deliver my body all ragged and worn/Back to the morning of the day we were born."
11. Mree - Eat Sleep Worry
Upon discovering it after the year ended, I developed a brief obsession with Mree's short and sweet 2015 release, Empty Nest, a collection of seven pleasantly beautiful melodic pop songs. At times, her music flirts with becoming too overly saccharine, but Mree's earnest, wide-eyed voice and immaculate ear for melody save it every time. There's something nostalgic and familiar in a well-made love ballad like "Eat Sleep Worry." The first time its simple, plaintive chorus hit my ears - "Take me to my lover/Don't know how much longer I can take/I can't stay here forever" - I felt like I'd already heard it a hundred times before, in a good way. It felt comfortable, which is a welcome feeling to occasionally settle into on the never-ending quest for excitement and newness.
Upon discovering it after the year ended, I developed a brief obsession with Mree's short and sweet 2015 release, Empty Nest, a collection of seven pleasantly beautiful melodic pop songs. At times, her music flirts with becoming too overly saccharine, but Mree's earnest, wide-eyed voice and immaculate ear for melody save it every time. There's something nostalgic and familiar in a well-made love ballad like "Eat Sleep Worry." The first time its simple, plaintive chorus hit my ears - "Take me to my lover/Don't know how much longer I can take/I can't stay here forever" - I felt like I'd already heard it a hundred times before, in a good way. It felt comfortable, which is a welcome feeling to occasionally settle into on the never-ending quest for excitement and newness.
10. Lowly - S.W.I.M
"S.W.I.M" is one of the better songs I discovered courtesy of my Discover Weekly playlist on Spotify before it began to turn into the same thing every week. It's the centerpiece of Lowly's debut EP, Sink Way Into Me, which promisingly combines elements of dream pop, shoegaze, and post-rock. There's something utterly joyous and life-affirming about the interplay between the song's swells of playful, energetic synths and the quirky, fuzzed-out vocal harmonies of Nanna Schannong and Soffie Viemose. I feel inexplicably invigorated every time I hear it. Many comparisons could be made to other bands - Blonde Redhead, Cocteau Twins, Björk, Mew. At the same time, the end result is uniquely individual. Lowly will release their LP, Heba, on February 10.
"S.W.I.M" is one of the better songs I discovered courtesy of my Discover Weekly playlist on Spotify before it began to turn into the same thing every week. It's the centerpiece of Lowly's debut EP, Sink Way Into Me, which promisingly combines elements of dream pop, shoegaze, and post-rock. There's something utterly joyous and life-affirming about the interplay between the song's swells of playful, energetic synths and the quirky, fuzzed-out vocal harmonies of Nanna Schannong and Soffie Viemose. I feel inexplicably invigorated every time I hear it. Many comparisons could be made to other bands - Blonde Redhead, Cocteau Twins, Björk, Mew. At the same time, the end result is uniquely individual. Lowly will release their LP, Heba, on February 10.
9. Julia Holter - Für Felix
After falling in love with last year's Have You in My Wilderness, I've been slowly warming up to Julia Holter's earlier albums. They're more structurally difficult and less immediately melodic, but they're also very rewarding to repeat listens. The melodies on Ekstasis especially operate on such a microscopic level, placing emphasis on the most subtle shifts and changes, that they may initially seem non-existent. However, with patience, they emerge through the blurry, dream-like haze of synthesizers. "Für Felix" highlights the childlike side of Holter's voice, the lilting, quizzical whimsy of which is matched to impressionistic, barely decipherable lyrics. The overall effect is something akin to tumbling down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. In more practical terms, it's like Never for Ever-era Kate Bush with more art and less pop.
After falling in love with last year's Have You in My Wilderness, I've been slowly warming up to Julia Holter's earlier albums. They're more structurally difficult and less immediately melodic, but they're also very rewarding to repeat listens. The melodies on Ekstasis especially operate on such a microscopic level, placing emphasis on the most subtle shifts and changes, that they may initially seem non-existent. However, with patience, they emerge through the blurry, dream-like haze of synthesizers. "Für Felix" highlights the childlike side of Holter's voice, the lilting, quizzical whimsy of which is matched to impressionistic, barely decipherable lyrics. The overall effect is something akin to tumbling down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. In more practical terms, it's like Never for Ever-era Kate Bush with more art and less pop.
8. Emmylou Harris - Deeper Well
For the longest time, I only knew Emmylou Harris' voice through her collaborations with other artists (Patty Griffin, Lucinda Williams, Bright Eyes, etc.), but I've always thought it was lovely. Midway through the year, I decided to rectify this problem by spending time with a couple of her albums, most notably Wrecking Ball. It's a gorgeously atmospheric album that borrows as much from folk and rock traditions as country ones. "Deeper Well" is moody and layered. Both the instrumentation and Harris' voice seem to teeter on the edge of explosion, building up so slowly and steadily that you can feel the tension running up the length of your spine. It's also only a "country" song in the loosest sense, so you should be able to appreciate it even if you don't typically consider yourself a fan of the genre.
For the longest time, I only knew Emmylou Harris' voice through her collaborations with other artists (Patty Griffin, Lucinda Williams, Bright Eyes, etc.), but I've always thought it was lovely. Midway through the year, I decided to rectify this problem by spending time with a couple of her albums, most notably Wrecking Ball. It's a gorgeously atmospheric album that borrows as much from folk and rock traditions as country ones. "Deeper Well" is moody and layered. Both the instrumentation and Harris' voice seem to teeter on the edge of explosion, building up so slowly and steadily that you can feel the tension running up the length of your spine. It's also only a "country" song in the loosest sense, so you should be able to appreciate it even if you don't typically consider yourself a fan of the genre.
7. Shannon Wright - Azalea
I rediscovered "Azalea" while working on a half-finished profile of Shannon Wright that I might get around to posting one of these days. It never particularly stood out to me before, probably because it's on the calmer, subtler end of the spectrum as far as Wright's music goes. However, it's a true beauty. A gentle piano-and-acoustic-guitar ballad, it centers on Wright's hushed yet still emotionally loaded vocal delivery, culminating in a chorus that finds her pleading for loyalty and consistency from her lover: "You should have been born an azalea, so I could count on you and me." Despite the metaphor, it's a refreshingly simple and straightforward message by Wright's usual cryptic standards. It's also surprisingly addictive.
I rediscovered "Azalea" while working on a half-finished profile of Shannon Wright that I might get around to posting one of these days. It never particularly stood out to me before, probably because it's on the calmer, subtler end of the spectrum as far as Wright's music goes. However, it's a true beauty. A gentle piano-and-acoustic-guitar ballad, it centers on Wright's hushed yet still emotionally loaded vocal delivery, culminating in a chorus that finds her pleading for loyalty and consistency from her lover: "You should have been born an azalea, so I could count on you and me." Despite the metaphor, it's a refreshingly simple and straightforward message by Wright's usual cryptic standards. It's also surprisingly addictive.
6. Jens Lekman - I'm Leaving You Because I Don't Love You
It's taken me a long time to fully determine my feelings on Jens Lekman. I've tended to fall in love with individual songs by stumbling across them at random over the years rather than sitting down to digest any album in full. Recently, though, I've been listening a lot to Night Falls Over Kortedala and realizing that it's actually quite consistent and enjoyable as a whole. "I'm Leaving You Because I Don't Love You" is currently hitting me hardest. It's refreshingly minimal in comparison to the rest of the album's unabashedly twee bombast, largely built on repetition of the title line and a simple piano melody. Lekman's timbre is so pleasantly smooth that you manage to fall in love with him even as he's breaking your heart. When he croons earnestly, "I'm so sorry I couldn't love you enough," it'll have even the most cynical listener eating out of the palm of his hand.
It's taken me a long time to fully determine my feelings on Jens Lekman. I've tended to fall in love with individual songs by stumbling across them at random over the years rather than sitting down to digest any album in full. Recently, though, I've been listening a lot to Night Falls Over Kortedala and realizing that it's actually quite consistent and enjoyable as a whole. "I'm Leaving You Because I Don't Love You" is currently hitting me hardest. It's refreshingly minimal in comparison to the rest of the album's unabashedly twee bombast, largely built on repetition of the title line and a simple piano melody. Lekman's timbre is so pleasantly smooth that you manage to fall in love with him even as he's breaking your heart. When he croons earnestly, "I'm so sorry I couldn't love you enough," it'll have even the most cynical listener eating out of the palm of his hand.
5. Tori Amos - To the Fair Motormaids of Japan
It's sad that the only guarantee of quality Tori Amos music these days is in the possibility of newly unearthed tracks from her 1990s heyday. I'll never be able to fully quit her, no matter how many lackluster albums she releases, but it becomes ever clearer that my unwavering fandom is easier to justify when the past decade is eliminated from the equation. "To the Fair Motormaids of Japan" has always been a holy grail among Amos fans, a much-discussed but never-heard recording from the sessions that would result in Boys for Pele, arguably her most creative period. After years of speculation, it finally surfaced on the remastered reissue of the album released in November. Shockingly, it lives up to the hype - and then some. A simple piano-and-voice affair, it captures Amos at her sharpest as a singer and songwriter. When the direct, devastating chorus hits ("The things that I would go through to turn you back around"), you wonder how in the world a gem like this was left to gather dust for twenty years.
It's sad that the only guarantee of quality Tori Amos music these days is in the possibility of newly unearthed tracks from her 1990s heyday. I'll never be able to fully quit her, no matter how many lackluster albums she releases, but it becomes ever clearer that my unwavering fandom is easier to justify when the past decade is eliminated from the equation. "To the Fair Motormaids of Japan" has always been a holy grail among Amos fans, a much-discussed but never-heard recording from the sessions that would result in Boys for Pele, arguably her most creative period. After years of speculation, it finally surfaced on the remastered reissue of the album released in November. Shockingly, it lives up to the hype - and then some. A simple piano-and-voice affair, it captures Amos at her sharpest as a singer and songwriter. When the direct, devastating chorus hits ("The things that I would go through to turn you back around"), you wonder how in the world a gem like this was left to gather dust for twenty years.
4. Tim Darcy - Tall Glass of Water
Ought is probably one of my favorite bands to appear within the last few years, and frontman Tim Darcy is definitely one of my biggest musical crushes right now. He absolutely oozes charisma in both his recorded vocal performances and his live on-stage presence. Last month, his first solo album, Saturday Night, was unexpectedly announced for a February release. The lead single, "Tall Glass of Water," is immediately comparable to Ought due to Darcy's unmistakable voice, a nervy, nasal warble that draws on forebears like David Byrne and Mark E. Smith while also standing uniquely on its own. Also recognizable is the odd mixture of surrealism and reality in Darcy's lyrics as he poses questions of varying logic ("Is it fate, or is it Popsicle? Is it rain, or is it toxic fire? Is it love, or is it desire?") On a compositional level, it's more straightforward than Ought and draws from different influences, namely Loaded-era Velvet Underground and Brill Building pop.
Ought is probably one of my favorite bands to appear within the last few years, and frontman Tim Darcy is definitely one of my biggest musical crushes right now. He absolutely oozes charisma in both his recorded vocal performances and his live on-stage presence. Last month, his first solo album, Saturday Night, was unexpectedly announced for a February release. The lead single, "Tall Glass of Water," is immediately comparable to Ought due to Darcy's unmistakable voice, a nervy, nasal warble that draws on forebears like David Byrne and Mark E. Smith while also standing uniquely on its own. Also recognizable is the odd mixture of surrealism and reality in Darcy's lyrics as he poses questions of varying logic ("Is it fate, or is it Popsicle? Is it rain, or is it toxic fire? Is it love, or is it desire?") On a compositional level, it's more straightforward than Ought and draws from different influences, namely Loaded-era Velvet Underground and Brill Building pop.
3. ABBA - The Name of the Game
Listen, ABBA gets a really bad rap. They're often perceived as this ultra-cheesy, ultra-poppy, ultra-optimistic guilty pleasure, and, yeah, they're definitely all of those things, but they also have absolutely impeccable choruses and harmonies. I have to admit I felt a little silly at first listening to an ABBA album in full, but I soon found myself lost inside their dense, sugary soundscapes, a big, dumb smile on my face and my head swaying contentedly. You could honestly make a case for any number of their songs being one of the best pop tracks ever written. Today, I'm going to try it with "The Name of the Game." It's deceptively simple on the surface, but the more you listen to it, the more you begin to realize just how many musical layers there are; it's a mini-epic in its own right. Besides that, the vocal interplay is absolutely divine and the chorus is the purest form of musical crack.
Listen, ABBA gets a really bad rap. They're often perceived as this ultra-cheesy, ultra-poppy, ultra-optimistic guilty pleasure, and, yeah, they're definitely all of those things, but they also have absolutely impeccable choruses and harmonies. I have to admit I felt a little silly at first listening to an ABBA album in full, but I soon found myself lost inside their dense, sugary soundscapes, a big, dumb smile on my face and my head swaying contentedly. You could honestly make a case for any number of their songs being one of the best pop tracks ever written. Today, I'm going to try it with "The Name of the Game." It's deceptively simple on the surface, but the more you listen to it, the more you begin to realize just how many musical layers there are; it's a mini-epic in its own right. Besides that, the vocal interplay is absolutely divine and the chorus is the purest form of musical crack.
2. Naomi Elizabeth - God Sent Me Here to Rock You
I swear to God, someone could write an entire academic article on the enigmatic DIY pop diva known as Naomi Elizabeth. What I wouldn't give to spend a day inside this woman's brain. She has a charmingly sparse official web presence, she's self-published two bizarre pseudo-memoirs with ridiculous titles, and she's released a number of addictive so-bad-they're-good electronic pop songs with endearingly, awkwardly sensual videos. Anyone who's been inducted into the cult of Naomi was likely initiated by means of the gateway drug known as "God Sent Me Here to Rock You."
This song sounds a bit like what might happen if Joanna Newsom were replicated as a sexy pop android singing vapid lyrics over cheap Casio beats. In other words, it's incredible. Try not to fall in love with Naomi's babyish drawl as she insists earnestly, "God sent me here to rock you/He gave me a job to do!/He told me, 'Girl, you have to show them/The way I do things here in Heaven.'" It's even better if you watch the video, a seeming parody of misogynistic stereotypes like "woman as goddess" and "slutty secretary." This is the thing: it's almost too easy at first to dismiss Naomi Elizabeth as bored, weird, attention-seeking, or just plain desperate, and maybe she is all of these things to an extent. But her aesthetic also makes too much sense as a feminist statement to fully dismiss as a joke. However you come to understand her music, there's no denying there's something utterly fascinating and hypnotizing about it. I haven't been able to stop thinking about her all year.
I swear to God, someone could write an entire academic article on the enigmatic DIY pop diva known as Naomi Elizabeth. What I wouldn't give to spend a day inside this woman's brain. She has a charmingly sparse official web presence, she's self-published two bizarre pseudo-memoirs with ridiculous titles, and she's released a number of addictive so-bad-they're-good electronic pop songs with endearingly, awkwardly sensual videos. Anyone who's been inducted into the cult of Naomi was likely initiated by means of the gateway drug known as "God Sent Me Here to Rock You."
This song sounds a bit like what might happen if Joanna Newsom were replicated as a sexy pop android singing vapid lyrics over cheap Casio beats. In other words, it's incredible. Try not to fall in love with Naomi's babyish drawl as she insists earnestly, "God sent me here to rock you/He gave me a job to do!/He told me, 'Girl, you have to show them/The way I do things here in Heaven.'" It's even better if you watch the video, a seeming parody of misogynistic stereotypes like "woman as goddess" and "slutty secretary." This is the thing: it's almost too easy at first to dismiss Naomi Elizabeth as bored, weird, attention-seeking, or just plain desperate, and maybe she is all of these things to an extent. But her aesthetic also makes too much sense as a feminist statement to fully dismiss as a joke. However you come to understand her music, there's no denying there's something utterly fascinating and hypnotizing about it. I haven't been able to stop thinking about her all year.
1. Alaska Thunderfuck - Your Makeup Is Terrible
You might be questioning my decision to call a kitschy electronic dance song in which a drag queen shouts catchphrases over generic beats my Number One Most Overlooked Favorite Track of 2016, but hear me out. "Your Makeup Is Terrible" truly encapsulates my year, in that I spent much of it binge-watching every season of Rupaul's Drag Race and falling uncontrollably down a Youtube rabbit hole of drag-related content. In such a truly fucking horrendous year, no other form of escapism worked nearly as well for me. Alaska Thunderfuck, in particular, is mesmerizing not just as a drag queen but as an artist and creator. She brands herself as an extraterrestrial supermodel whose only knowledge of the human race is a hodgepodge of fashion and pop culture references, resulting in an image that's as glamorous as it is trashy. In a sense, it's the vapid blonde stereotype taken to the extreme; every aspect of her exaggerated femininity is presented with a wink and a nod.
But since this is supposed to be about the music: to put it bluntly, most drag music is awful, largely because being a drag queen doesn't inherently suggest musical talent. Alaska's music is also awful; the difference is that she's in on the joke and to put together purposely sub-par electropop takes a certain sort of genius. She sings badly not because she's physically incapable of holding a note (she's definitely not) but because it's funnier that way. Her comedic vocal quirks are a big part of the song's charm: the growling, demon-possessed "TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE" in the chorus; the oversexed, breathy exclamation, "Oh my gosh, this is the really serious part of the song," as the tempo of the backing track shifts. Even a one-liner that's quotable on its own - "This face is my ID, motherfucker!" - is turned practically legendary by her delivery. And, yeah, at the end of the day, it's just insanely catchy to boot. Don't question it; just give in.
You might be questioning my decision to call a kitschy electronic dance song in which a drag queen shouts catchphrases over generic beats my Number One Most Overlooked Favorite Track of 2016, but hear me out. "Your Makeup Is Terrible" truly encapsulates my year, in that I spent much of it binge-watching every season of Rupaul's Drag Race and falling uncontrollably down a Youtube rabbit hole of drag-related content. In such a truly fucking horrendous year, no other form of escapism worked nearly as well for me. Alaska Thunderfuck, in particular, is mesmerizing not just as a drag queen but as an artist and creator. She brands herself as an extraterrestrial supermodel whose only knowledge of the human race is a hodgepodge of fashion and pop culture references, resulting in an image that's as glamorous as it is trashy. In a sense, it's the vapid blonde stereotype taken to the extreme; every aspect of her exaggerated femininity is presented with a wink and a nod.
But since this is supposed to be about the music: to put it bluntly, most drag music is awful, largely because being a drag queen doesn't inherently suggest musical talent. Alaska's music is also awful; the difference is that she's in on the joke and to put together purposely sub-par electropop takes a certain sort of genius. She sings badly not because she's physically incapable of holding a note (she's definitely not) but because it's funnier that way. Her comedic vocal quirks are a big part of the song's charm: the growling, demon-possessed "TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE" in the chorus; the oversexed, breathy exclamation, "Oh my gosh, this is the really serious part of the song," as the tempo of the backing track shifts. Even a one-liner that's quotable on its own - "This face is my ID, motherfucker!" - is turned practically legendary by her delivery. And, yeah, at the end of the day, it's just insanely catchy to boot. Don't question it; just give in.
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