Top Albums and Songs of 2014

Top Albums:

10. Real Estate - Atlas
9. This Will Destroy You - Another Language
8. Cloud Nothings - Here and Nowhere Else
7. Grouper - Ruins
6. Explosions in the Sky - Lone Survivor OST
5. White Lung - Deep Fantasy
4. Knuckle Puck - EPs
3. The War on Drugs - Lost in the Dream
2. The Antlers - Familiars 
1. Joyce Manor - Never Hungover Again

Top Songs:

And here's two-and-a-half hours worth of music to hold you over, with some words below:

Joyce Manor - "Catalina Fight Song": Yes, a one-minute song is my favorite of the year. I've been playing "Catalina Fight Song" nonstop -- and often on loop, something I almost never do -- and it still sounds as fresh and compelling as when I first heard it. Recalling Guided by Voices, Joyce Manor craft songs that are catchy, passionate, and, most of all, succinct. Listen to the guitar that sears through the drums midway through "Catalina." A typical band would've let that guitar play out and cut the opening verse neatly in two, but Joyce Manor refuse to waste a second here, so the vocals keep flowing, their rising intensity matching the amplifying noise.  "Catalina" becomes a minute-long crescendo without all the build-up preceding it, though the song really explodes in the last ten seconds and then abruptly concludes. After such a climactic minute, I feel stunned when the music suddenly ceases.  Somehow, though, I muster the strength to click my radio dial to the left...and then the song repeats.

Knuckle Puck - "Gold Rush": When you hear great pop-punk, it sounds so damn easy -- it really is a formulaic genre -- but few bands truly get the music right.  Often the vocals are too whiny, or the guitars are too distorted, or the hooks simply aren't catchy enough.  But when all a song's pieces do come together, you can recognize a classic instantly.  That's how I felt with Knuckle Puck's "Gold Rush," a song that begins with an urgent exclamation: "If I don't start sleeping on the floor again I'll be testing out my patience,"  This intensity is sustained the whole song through, but what's most remarkable about the track is its fluctuating dynamics: it is not three minutes of pleas, which would quickly grow irritating. Instead,  the vocals are always moving at different speeds and volumes that it's surprising how much you can hear in less than three minutes. (They buy into another pop-punk maxim: brevity is key.)  The group foregrounds the emoish vocals during the verses and bridge, where the band maximizes the poignancy of its universally relatable lines like "I swore I wouldn't feel this way anymore." Then there's the noisier chorus with jolting guitars and staggering drums, not to mention an addictive chorus which I always catch myself involuntarily singing around the house.  Nearing the song's end, the band uses a vocal effect so that the singer's voice swells up, making "Gold Rush" feel gigantic, epically important, which is part of the point: pop-punk magnifies our basic emotions (happiness, sadness, jealousy, anger), which to some seems melodramatic but to others feels like the whole damn universe condensed into a song. Knuckle Puck convince me that whatever they're feeling really matters, and for the three minutes I hear "Gold Rush," I'm totally lost in their world of emotions.

Flying Lotus, ft. Kendrick Lamar - "Never Catch Me": Best hip-hop song of the year.  Few rappers could keep up with Flying Lotus's spazzy beats, but Kendrick accelerates his vocals to blazing speeds, faster than anything heard on his impeccable good kid, m.A.A.d city.  Also check out the stunning video, which shows two young children rise from their coffins and dance through their funeral procession.

The Antlers - "Palace": After releasing Hospice, a devastating concept album acclaimed by critics, I feared that The Antlers might've peaked too early.  But the group's followup, Burst Apart, revealed a band eager to experiment sonically and starting to cultivate a distinct sound.  Following an underrated EP (Undersea), these guys have released the most beautiful and unique work to date: Familiars.  The album is ironically named: this music sounds totally dissimilar to other experimental/stoner indie/alternative music.  In fact, it's even a departure from previous Antlers albums.  Yet this is also a distinct Antlers record, one that no other group could have made.  Listen to how that inimitably angelic falsetto is paired with the ethereal soundscapes we heard on Burst Apart, in addition to warm, brassy horns, which simultaneously cut against the lofty sounds (bringing more earthy tones to the spacey keys) and increase the ambiance.  It's easy to get lost in these warm and oozy sounds until the vocals demand your attention midway through the song during the climactic exclamation.  Listen for individual parts, listen for the whole, listen closely or zone out. This song proves incredibly rewarding and durable.  Seems like they didn't peak too soon, after all.

The War on Drugs - "Under the Pressure":  It's so easy to get lost in the lush soundscapes of this gorgeous record.  We get more of the gauzy shoegaze that we've heard on previous War on Drugs albums, but here the melodies are richer and the songs flow more freely.  Take the album's opener, which ebbs and flows for nine minutes of carefully orchestrated guitars, keys, and muted horns.  It feels otherworldly and transcendent, but the Dylan-esque vocals always keep the song grounded enough that it doesn't loft away into ethereal nowhereland--the foreboding vocals shade these dreamy sounds with dreariness.  We witness this mixture of dreaminess and dread when singer Adam Granduciel admits that he's "trying not to crack under the pressure," and then the song briefly ruptures, all of its pent-up tension suddenly released.  As beautiful as this moment is, it's also the song and singer cracking.  Beautiful moments that capture Granduciel's lowest points.

Real Estate - "Had to Hear":  I liked this group's past album, Days, better than its newest, but this opener epitomizes everything people adore about Real Estate: laid-back vocals, catchy (and deceivingly intricate) guitars, and subtle but moving lyrics.  I just love the line "I don't need the horizon to tell me where the sky is/ It's a subtle landscape where I come from."  Gets me every time, even if I can't pinpoint why.  Maybe it's just a North Jersey thing (these guys are from a town about 15 minutes from me).

The Notwist - "Kong": A lot of publications vaunt Future Islands's "Seasons" as the indie pop song of the year.  I like the song (it made the cut), but give me "Kong" every time, a track that plays like a poppier version of Built to Spill, with the instrumental prowess of a Tokyo Police Club.  This one needs high volume -- let it be the (somewhat morose, but hey it's indie!) jam to your future summers.

Cloud Nothings - "I'm Not a Part of Me":  I still think CN's last album was better, but this song--and the performance of the whole album at the Bowery earlier this year--is superb.  It's no "Stay Useless," but it rocks hard and closes the record with a bang.

Explosions in the Sky - "Waking Up":  By now EITS have mastered the whole soundtrack thing.  And the whole making absolutely gorgeous, wordless music that conjures every bittersweet moment of your life, eliciting near-paralytic states of awe and introspection.  Yeah, that too.  This song brings lightness to a dark film (Lone Survivor) and a largely dark soundtrack, and it offers the chimey guitars and loud/soft dynamics one expects of an Explosions song.  What makes this one special is that the "explosive" crescendo is gentler, and dare I say prettier, than most EITS songs.  And the band operates under time constrains that their albums lack, pulling off an emotionally gripping, wordless song in under five minutes.  This track isn't to be missed by any EITS fan.

April Mixtape

Highlighting the songs I've discovered, rediscovered, or repeatedly played each month. The order reflects an attempt to create a cohesive mixtape, not to rank the songs in any way.

1. The Decemberists - "Don't Carry It All."  I love The Crane Wife, but I thought The Hazards of Love was kind of blah -- too epic, too bloated.  I love this quote from Colin Meloy about the critical reception of Hazards:

"It's like the girlfriend that you bring to your family and they all say that they really like her, but then when you break up with her, and they're like, "Oh God, I hated her the whole time. You're so much better off.  Even I'm starting to believe it, like, 'I guess The Hazards of Love did kind of suck, didn't it?'" 

Meloy says Hazards is still his favorite Decemberists' record, but it left me not wanting to check out the group's newest work until recently, when I took up Norah's advice (thanks, Norah!) and finally gave The King Is Dead a spin.  It couldn't have started any better: "Don't Carry It All" is the loosest I've ever heard the Decemberists on record, freed from the conceptual strictures of Hazards. No longer "carrying" that burden, the Decemberists meld their catchy, summery folk with the bouncy percussion, layers of instrumentation, and palpable energy of Arcade Fire's "Wake Up."  The result is one of the group's best songs in years.

2. Phoenix - "Drakkar Noir."  Ah, Phoenix.   I don't know what to do with you.  I've played songs from this album an astounding 128 times (according to my last.fm), yet I'm still struggling to formulate an opinion.  My initial responses were lukewarm: I thought, and still think, "Entertainment" is a bombastic and surprisingly safe opener, a louder and less subtle version of the band's catchiest singles; "Bankrupt!" sounds way too similar to Animal Collective's "My Girls" when it meanders for three or four minutes; and "Oblique City" is all noise--huge synths and dissonant drums--but little substance.  Yet many of the other songs are growing on me, like "S.O.S. in Bel Air" and "The Real Thing."  "Drakkar Noir," though, was the first song that really caught my attention, with its bouncing synth, massively catchy chorus, and no-bullshit introduction.  Mars's vocals sound as pristine as always, and he particularly shines on the chorus when he sadly confesses, "I'm just too glad to say 'no.'" The song speaks to a notoriously dissolute person ("Light a cigarette for two / You're too close to get to / How come everyone knows you before they meet you?"), yet Mars's radio-friendly voice and "Drakkar's" dance-worthy tempo mask the song's gloomy lyrics.  But for the careful listener, these contradicting sounds and emotions make the climax so powerful, as the swelling synths, amplified guitars, and splattering drums simultaneously produce happiness and discomfort, since Mars's despair seems to rise with the volume of the euphonic instruments.  The listener ultimately finds solace during the track's final seconds, as piano keys flutter through the climactic noise, ending an unsettling pop song calmly and reassuringly.  These brief notes prove how Phoenix thrives on subtle nuances, not massive noises.  I just wish the band cleaned up more of the clutter before releasing Bankrupt!

                       

3. Phoenix - "Chloroform."  The transition between "Drakkar Noir" and "Chloroform" is the best moment on the album and will probably be some of the best seconds of music this year.  The synths of "Drakkar" sputter and then loop until fuzzy keys abruptly burst, introducing "Chloroform's" slow dubstep beat and brassy keys. Try not to move along to this; go ahead, I dare you.  It's a really beautiful, even sensual, moment that I wish could linger longer, especially when Mars interrupts with a ridiculous line like, "Anyway, you want the truth is / I will marry you on Tuesdays."  Yuck.  Similar to "Drakkar," the lyrics are bleak and unsettling, but here the band wisely chooses not to conceal its anxieties under layers of poppy sounds.

4. Daft Punk - "Digital Love."  Damn, can diplomats play "Digital Love" to warring leaders?  Maybe there'd be hope.  This song injects happiness into a room, and it helped me get through a long month of lonely grading.  Discovery begins with such an unbelievable trio of songs that it's almost unfair to any other techno/EDM group: the incomparable "One More Time" bleeds into the frenetic, otherworldly instrumentals of "Aerodynamic," which then fade into the mesmerizing ambiance of "Digital

Love."  I love the robotic vocals here, and the horns are a perfect touch to an electronic-based album.  And then there's the oh-my-God vocal moment of "why won't you play the gaAaAAAaaame?"  It's a subtle yet addictive climax that could've made the ensuing robotic guitar solo seem superfluous, but the song is so damn fun that I'd welcome anything to keep it going.  As DP themselves sing:

"It looked like everyone was having fun
The kind of feeling I've waited so long
Don't stop, come a little closer
As we jam, the reason gets stronger
There's nothing wrong with just a little, little fun;
We were dancing all night long."

Can they please tour now?

5. Minus the Bear - "Lies and Eyes."  I used to think Minus the Bear was one of the best bands I've ever heard.  I don't think this anymore, but it's encouraging to hear these guys still pulling off a song as catchy, bold, and technical as "Lies and Eyes."  I've always enjoyed Jack Snider's rather monotonous vocals, but there's no doubt they're limiting, especially live.  But here they really work, especially at the end of each verse, where he sings in iambs.  This captures so much of what I love about indie rock: it's pop-oriented and catchy, but there's also an immediately perceptible earnestness to it.  I love a song that can strike me as something serious right away yet still have the loose and infectious qualities that make me want to keep returning to it.

6. The Big Pink - "Velvet."  This might be the sexiest song I've ever heard.  Sensual, passionate, chilling; it'll raise the hairs on your arms if you listen closely enough.  The instruments are beautifully layered to sound rich and all-enveloping, and right from the beginning TBP's offer a diverse combination of atmospheric vocals, fuzzy guitars, and sprawling percussion that almost sounds like a computer gargling.  These disparate elements make for a unique opening where the dissonant percussion struggles to protrude the hazey layers of euphonic guitars.  Then more fuzzy guitars wash over the sounds, building to the second verse, until the song crescendos in a long climax of screeching distortion and warm, enveloping feedback.  When the guitars pause, it's like a long exhale, but then a single trickling guitar initiates more waves of noise.  The song is a totally immersing experience that culls the best effects from its instruments: the reverberating vocals beckon for a sing-along while the shoegazey guitars elicit brooding introspection.  When combined,  listeners feel like they're screaming heartfelt words from their souls, though the lyrics are so wonderfully composed that they might as well be:

"These arms are mine
Don't matter who they hold.
So should I maybe just leave love alone?
You call out my name, for the love you need,
Which you won't find in me."

Ugh, this album is so criminally underrated.  I don't know why TBP embraced hip-hop more on their sophomore album after displaying such skill in creating rich textures.  This is one of my all-time listened to songs, and it shows no signs of losing its effects.

7. Wavves - "Demon to Lean On." Although the guitars vaguely recall Weezer's "Pork and Beans," Wavves's "Demon to Lean On" is catchier, not lazy, and actually sounds like it's motivated by something other than a cheap laugh or quick check.  You can definitely hear the Nirvana influences here, but there's also a serious surfer-y, West Coast feel that adds a new take on the grungy punk aesthetic.  Along with Bankrupt!, Wavves's Afraid of Heights has been on repeat for much of this month, mixing just the right amount of melody with futility.

8. Cloud Nothings - "Understand at All."  Before Cloud Nothings embraced screaming, they made some outstanding pop-punk songs.  "Understand" might be their best: a supremely catchy, fast-paced, loud, and lo-fi jam.  You can hear how this band already gestures towards what will be their greatest song to date, "Stay Useless." But "Understand" can also stand on its own for its complexity, turning a depressing realization--"I don't understand at all"--into a fun and frenetic anthem.  Like Phoenix, CN can masterfully conceal sadness under a poppy veneer.

9. Cloud Nothings - "Forget You All the Time."  Yet Cloud Nothings's self-titled is not all jittery pop-punk; "Forget" is a song worth getting bummed out to, and the melancholy guitar immediately drags the listener into despair.  But the song is more cathartic than wallowing: its music is contagious, not the misery that inspired it.

10. We Were Promised Jetpacks - "Circles and Squares."  I found these guys on Spotify's radio service, and they're loud and fun and great driving music.  "Circles" floods the listener with massive guitars and builds to a dramatic climax, where Adam Thompson's vocals melodically bounce off the walls of electronic noise.  I had the ending's melody stuck in my head for days and couldn't figure out where it came from.  Once I did, I began listening to these guys regularly.

11. We Were Promised Jetpacks - "Quiet Little Voices."  In my attempt to listen to WWPJ more often, I discovered this incredibly catchy rock song.  It's not super complicated--its chorus combines loud/soft dynamics and punky "oh oh oh"s--but it kept me awake and animated during several traffic-ridden drives home from Moshe's seemingly never-ending (but unbelievably amazing) theory course.  That's gotta count for something, right?

Top Albums of 2012, 5-3

Part Two of Three.  Thanks for caring.

5. PASSION PIT - Gossamer.  Although it retains the schizophrenic electronica and otherworldly vocals from Manners, Passion Pit's sophomore album sounds wholly unlike its superb predecessor.  As I discovered earlier this year, Manners layers sugary pop music over its devastating lyrics, allowing, perhaps even gesturing, a listener to dance unwittingly to Angelakos's deepest miseries: "you've caused all this pain / and you proudly shame / your whole family's name," he sings on the infectious "Little Secrets."  Yet Gossamer refuses to bury its pain, making for a surprisingly confrontational listen following the superficially joyous Manners.  While a song like "I'll Be Alright" revels in its maximalist approach, from crashing percussion to layers of synths to those glitchy, chipmunk vocals, it's nevertheless hard to miss Angelakos admitting: "I drink a gin and take a couple of my pills . . . I'll be alright."

"I'll Be Alright" leads into the insipid "Carried Away," but then the album picks up with "Constant Conversations," where Passion Pit  pares down its electronic eccentricities to offer something that is both straightforward and rewarding.  By removing these sonic layers, though, PP forces its listeners to confront Angelakos' morbid lyrics, which ominously recall the self-deprecation and helplessness found in Elliott Smith's bleakest songs:

"Well you're wrapped up in a blanket, and you're staring at the floor.
The conversation's moderated by the noisy streets below.
'I never wanna hurt you baby. I'm just a mess with a name and a price.
And now I'm drunker than before; they told me drinking doesn't make me nice.'"

Yet when Angelakos implores, "Everybody now! Oh-oh-oh-oh-ohhh-oh-ohhh.  Sing it now!," you want to sing along and forget what you've just heard -- to be like Angelakos and conceal his pain with melodies and songs and noise.  "Conversations" then leads to my favorite song, "Mirrored Sea," where the depths of sound return.  In one of the most gripping intros I can ever remember, "Sea" opens with a wave of ghostly synths which then bleed into the frenetic keys on the verse.  These discrete parts ultimately intersect at the chorus in the album's best moment.  Sounding like a gothier track from the Manners sessions, "Mirrored Sea" marks a return to PP's opaque lyrics (what's a mirrored sea?) and vocal delivery, though delving deeper reveals some of Angelakos' most illuminating poetry: "He could look good in the light and look bad in the dark / Good men are scarce and few / But always passing through."  

For a few months I stopped listening to Gossamer, thinking it failed to live up to Manners.   Maybe the change from album to album seemed to drastic, or maybe I couldn't handle delving into Angelakos's miseries while reading stuff like Hiroshima and "The Tell-Tale Heart" (but now I can, Merry Christmas!).  But Gossamer is a great album, a more than worthy follow-up to Manners.  And for all its painful moments, Gossamer still stresses its exuberant music over its sad lyrics, like on "Hideway," which starts with staticky, fragmented vocals and then speeds into a huge chorus that commands as much dancing as it does headbanging.  It's a warm, flickery, and all-around pretty song with an encouraging chorus, "someday everything will be okay"--words we so badly want to believe, even if the album gives us a hundred reasons to think otherwise.

March Mixtape

Highlighting the songs I've discovered, rediscovered, or repeatedly played each month. The order reflects an attempt to create a cohesive mixtape, not to rank the songs in any way.

1. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - "Maps." I don't know what brought me back to this song, but I discovered it anew this month and fell in love with Nick Zinner's sleek, chime-y guitars.  Karen O really lets it all go, especially when her voice crackles during the song's heartfelt moments: "wait--they don't love you like I love you."  The YYYs debut really is fantastic; I remember buying it at Best Buy many, many years ago and finding it immensely disappointing. Funny how things work out sometimes.