Think of it this way: I get to make you one CD of music from 2013, and that's all you get from this year. Here's what I'm putting on it:
20. Lorde-Buzzcut Season: At first I thought this sounded a lot like The XX (“VCR”), but now I think it’s more akin to “The Spiderbite Song.” I’ve always been a sucker for a clever line, and she penned one here: “I remember when your head caught flame / it kissed your scalp / and caressed your brain / well you laughed / ‘baby it’s okay / it’s buzzcut season anyway.’” Beyond that, the imagery is strong as well: “we ride the bus with our knees pulled in / people should see how we live.” The arrangement is minimal for the first two minutes of the song, though more production is added as the chorus finally comes in. I like the simple beginning though—sometimes it’s best to know what your strengths are and just let them play.
19. Okkervil River-Pink Slips: On a record filled with memories, this song embraces and bites at nostalgia all at once, in a way we’ve all once realized—“this wish to just go back / hey / when I know / I wasn’t ever / ever happy / show me my best memory / it’s probably super-crappy.” We always remember the best things about certain times as we wish to go back, but Sheff reminds us that it’s a fallacy. He also has a couple of choice lines that just sound great: “my right hand on my heart / while my left hand snaps your necklace,” and “I guess I was just / a dreaming and drifting.” I’m sure pink slips is some sort of metaphor for loss, but everything built around that metaphor is pretty fantastic.
18. Phosphorescent-Terror in the Canyon (The Wounded Master): Matthew Houck’s voice peaking at the beginning of the chorus and the 20 seconds that follow is likely one of the best moments in music this year. His lament?
But now you’re telling me my heart’s sick
And I’m telling you I know
And you’re telling me you’re leaving
And I’m telling you to go
And I’m not so sorry for the heart-wreck
But for each season left unblessed
The new terror in the canyons
The new terror in our chests
17. Vampire Weekend-Diane Young: This song is an all-out assault on your ears, a litmus test of your feelings about Vampire Weekend. You like them, this is your jam. You think they’re privileged no-talent imitators of superior predecessors? You’re going to hate this. Regardless, “Diane Young” is a thinly veiled reference to dying young (OK, very thinly veiled), and the song proceeds at a breakneck pace that either represents the recklessness of youth or the willingness to live life to the fullest. Or, perhaps both. Other than that, the lyrics are pretty much nonsensical, which matters little as the song is over nearly as soon as it begins. Sure, the haters will cite the autotune of the chorus and the number of “baby”’s in the song, but…the song is catchy as hell and fun to listen to.
16. Washed Out-All I Know: Feel-good nearly-instrumental track of the year. It’s like a sonic bath washing away all negative energy.
15. Mikal Cronin-Weight: The first track of MCII is appropriately introductory: “I’ve been starting over for a long time / I’m not ready for another day / I feel like feeling new / time is right / I’m only getting older / I’m not ready for the second wave / the wave of seeing through.” Seconds later, he unleashes the guitar he uses as a blunt instrument for the rest of the record, making music that bands like Weezer should have continued making. There’s nothing too complicated here, verse chorus verse etc., but to do it well is certainly a challenge that few other than Cronin bested this year.
14. Swearin’-Dust in the Gold Sack: A late-riser for me this year (actually, I didn’t hear it until 2014), this song is the female equivalent of Cronin’s “Weight,” but just a tick better. Allison Crutchfield, the sister of Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield, didn’t create an album as consistent as her twin’s but this song hits some sweet spot of grunge, emo, and pop that’s usually hard to find.
13. Vampire Weekend-Finger Back: The insistent percussion of the drums and guitar should sound familiar, but the way Ezra Koenig manipulates his voice in this song seems to be new, and sounds fresh. Everything’s coated in a light reverb, adding a little bit of depth. It’s a tight, catchy Vampire Weekend song, and there’s not a whole lot better than that.
12. The Blow-Make it Up: First track off the record, the percussion is fantastic, and the lyrics are poetry: “I thought I knew what love was / turns out I might have faked it more than once [double entendre!]…we went looking for love / but we might have to make it up.” I think an apt comparison to the vocal gymnastics here is probably the Dirty Projectors’ “Stillness is the Move,” which is about as high of praise as I can give.
11. Bedquilt Ramblers-You’ve Got to Walk: First things first—this songs comes from the soundtrack of a little indie video game called “Kentucky Route Zero,” which is utterly fantastic (the game, that is). There’s a great moment in the game, which I’m trying not to spoil, where this song comes in, and it’s probably my favorite, I don’t, “moment,” of the year. The game is super-cheap, if you have a PC, you should play it. So, back to the song. It’s something that truly sounds like you could hear it on an Appalachian back porch, something I just don’t find in music much these days. The song, with its Appalachian gospel moments, has this awesome message, perhaps cliché, but one I love: “you’ve got to walk / that lonesome valley / you’ve got to walk / it by yourself / there’s no one here / who can go there with you / you’ve got to walk / it by yourself.” Doesn’t sound like anything else I’ve heard this year.
10. Mikal Cronin-Am I Wrong-Cronin starts with the guitar here, and then moves on to this badass piano solo (!) which really just crushes it for me. The chorus is pretty fucking catchy, too.
9. T. Hardy Morris-Lucky: First, there’s one of my favorite lyrics of the year: “she changed the lock on her heart / and with one look / he cut a key.” It would have been so easy to just say something about him opening the lock or turning the key, but the metaphor of cutting a key is just so much more—he knows her so well that even when she changes the figurative lock, he can figure out exactly what to do with one look. So brilliant. Then there’s the immutable chorus—I don’t know if it’s depressing, sweet, or looking back with regret: “you remind me / that we’re not getting any younger” (it sounds better than how it reads).
8. The Minks-Romans: I don’t even like this type of song (80s synth, compressed drum beat), and I like this song. Super-catchy, you’ll find yourself humming the chorus and biting lead-in lines for weeks (“happy birthday / to the worst friend in the world / happy birthday to you…happy birthday / can I poison your drink?”).
7. Cate Le Bon-Are You with Me Now?: Again with the fencing guitars here, but just better. Every single note gets its own space to breathe and flourish, along with her voice. It’s like a miracle in sound engineering, letting each voice find its space to mature and connect with the listener. I’m so overwhelmed by these musical voices, I have no idea what she’s even saying in the song.
6. Okkervil River-It Was My Season: It’s easy to underestimate the difficulty of making something sound both nostalgic and fresh—an accomplishment that few bands have managed. Perhaps this is what makes The Silver Gymnasium, and, in particular, “It Was My Season,” so special. Will Sheff artfully bounces between past and present here, and it’d be a shame to try and reproduce it all here. Just go listen to the song.
5. Vampire Weekend-Hannah Hunt: Maybe the biggest departure on the record, certainly the best story. Also, the opening line, my god: “A gardener told me / some plants move / but I could not believe it.” About 2:45 in, there’s an uplifting piano solo, and Koenig brings it back down, reaching the limits of his voice to exclaim “if I can’t trust you / then dammit Hannah / there’s no future / there’s no answer.” I’d analyze the lyrics more, but you should just go here instead. Or read this.
4. Phosphorescent-Song for Zula: the amount of depth and complexity that this song builds in six minutes is astounding. Matthew Houck starts off in a supremely lonely fashion—warning us:
Some say love is a burning thing
That it makes a fiery ring
Oh but I know love as a fading thing
Just as fickle as a feather in a stream
See, honey, I saw love.
You see, it came to me
It put its face up to my face so I could see
Yeah then I saw love disfigure me
Into something I am not recognizing
His words cascade over the high/low dynamic of violins and bass. In the second verse, Houck vows that “I will not open myself up this away again…I will not lay like this for days now upon end / you will not see me fall / nor see me struggle to stand…I will not open myself up this way again.”
In the third stanza, he gains strength—“see honey / I am not / some broken thing / I do not lay here in the dark / waiting for thee” (love the nod to old English).
For the final act, he has transformed completely: “Oh / but I know love / as a caging thing / just a killer come to call / from some awful dream…but my heart is wild/ and my bones are steam / and I could kill you with my barehands / if I was free.”
This record (Muchacho) has grown on me more than any other record over the course of the year. Sure, others gave me more instantaneous, visceral reactions, but the depth of Houck’s poetry and musicianship is enough to keep listening to. At times triumphant, and at others hauntingly lonesome, I cannot recommend it highly enough.
3. The Blow-Invisible: OK, to hear this song in full effect, you have to have the bass turned up. If you do it correctly, you get that high-low contrast that sounds heavenly, mixing the synth (I assume), the bells, and the bass as the bottom drops out. This song also contains typically fantastic, incredulous poetry: “and if you don’t see me / shouldn’t that mean / I am invisible?” Bonus opening line: “When you walked out / I lost control of my mouth / and now it seems its stuck / in this ambiguous pout.” The Blow’s record is truly fantastic, and this is the capstone of the album.
2. Vampire Weekend-Obvious Bicycle: Maybe it’s a comment on selfies and blogs and Instagram and everything else on the internet, or maybe it’s much less than that (“oh you ought to spare your face the razor / because no one’s gonna spare the time for you”). But, the beauty of great songs is that they ask the ever-present questions and then leave them open for interpretation.
1. Foxygen-No Destruction: There are no perfect songs. There are no perfect songs. There are no perfect songs. I say this, yet, when I try to describe this track, I have difficulty thinking of anything else. Some of the best turns of phrase I’ve heard this year: “Now you think that I don’t know / but I know you two know quite well / that I caught you sipping milkshakes / in the parlor of the hotel.” (and of course “there’s no need to be an asshole / you’re not in Brooklyn anymore”) Imminently listenable, catchy, and a nice mix of the ardently specific and yet nonsensical, it’s my favorite track of the year, and it’s not close.
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