One of the biggest joys in choosing an album of the year is in realizing that your ultimate selection is one you never would have predicted when the year began. I went into Titanic Rising with the opinion that Natalie Mering was a remarkable singer but an uncompelling songwriter; she impressed me with her memorable contribution to Perfume Genius’ “Sides,” but her output as Weyes Blood left me bored. However, I came out of the experience believing I may have just heard an album that would one day be considered a classic, and that bold impression has only strengthened with time. Every song here sounds like some unearthed gem from the glory days of Joni Mitchell or Carole King. Mering has worked a sort of witchcraft in her songwriting, somehow managing to summon the spirit of Laurel Canyon folk, Brill Building pop, and psychedelic rock into a single evocative and, in its most gripping moments, transcendent package.

Titanic Rising is comprised of lyrical, vocal, and instrumental turns that stop me dead in my tracks every time. There’s the calm that directly follows the swelling climax of “Andromeda,” in which Mering tenderly but firmly requests, “Treat me right/I’m still a good man’s daughter/Let me in if I break/And be quiet if I shatter.” There’s the girl-group background vocals atop jaunty piano in “Everyday.” There’s the dramatically languid chorus of “Something to Believe,” Mering’s voice gliding along smooth as butter and rich as molasses. Its melodies are echoed in second-half highlight “Wild Time,” a woozy six-minute ballad tinged with psychedelia. Meanwhile, “Movies” serves as the album’s centerpiece, the show-stopping focal point upon which the entire thing hinges, its aqueous layers building in slow motion to a stunning release. As Mering declares in soaring syllables, “I want to be the star of my own movie,” it’s like her voice is breaking the surface of the water, wild with relief to have narrowly escaped drowning.

Some may argue that Titanic Rising is merely pastiche, an ode to the past that doesn’t bring anything new to the table. But Mering succeeds at paying tribute to her idols without losing her own voice in the process. There’s a vitality, a sense of aliveness, to what she’s achieved here that it would be a disservice to dismiss as pastiche. Mering isn’t simply doing a very good imitation of a classic work; she’s making a confident bid - and, to my ears, a successful one - for her own place in the canon.


Well, that’s it. That’s the list. I contemplated doing something to celebrate my favorite albums and songs of the decade, and I still might, but it feels a little redundant considering I’ve talked about so much of that on here already. At any rate, I’m going to try to be more consistent about posting in general next year. That’s not a resolution or a promise, though, because my track record with those is not great.

Anyway, I’ll leave you with one last playlist for now. I didn’t want it to just be a repeat of all the videos I’ve embedded throughout these posts, so I decided to choose different songs. Consider the YouTube links what I consider to be the best entry points into each album and the songs on the playlist more representative of my personal favorites. Listen on Apple Music or Spotify, and I hope everyone has a happy new year! [As an aside, Apple Music for some reason refused to put the Jamila Woods song I really wanted on the playlist, so listen to it here; it is on the Spotify playlist.]