What A Time To Be Alive - My Favorite Songs of 2015
Judging by this list, one could say I liked music in 2015.
And judging by the fact that I cobbled together three mixtapes of songs that I marginally enjoyed in 2015, you could build an even
stronger case to say that I liked music this year.
In a sense, you might be right. Or maybe it was just easier
to compile yet another useless ‘year end’ list.
Last year, I took a different approach with this—name
dropping a lot of songs I liked in my introduction, but opting to only rank my
favorite song of the year, the song that meant the most to me personally, and
then the best pop song of the year.
Apparently, it would have been hard to shuffle seven other songs in around those to have a list of 10, or something. Who knows though, right? I mean, who really knows what I was thinking last year at this time.
You want your ‘best of’ lists at the end of the year to be
perfect and impressive, to show off your superior musical tastes, or whatever.
You want them to be timeless—to be able to be looked back on, and not cringe at
whatever you were spinning in any given year; however, they are so temporary.
They are simply just reflections of that moment in time, passing all too
quickly.
What makes my seventh favorite song of the year just
slightly better than the eighth? These are questions I’ll never be able to
answer. After a certain point, you’re just looking at the song and assigning it
a number, filing it somewhere on the list.
This is one of those lists. Chance are, it’s probably not
timeless—simply a reflection of one very, very long year, placed into a
numerical order for the ease of the reader. Will I feel the same way about
these songs next year as I do now? It’s a question I can’t answer.
1. Ryan Adams- “All
You Had to Do Was Stay”/”This Love”
Two sides to the same coin. With an album as impossibly good
as 1989 is, trying to select just one
song off of it as my favorite song of the year proved to be too much of a task,
and I had to pick my top two—in a way, they both showcase what is so great
about what Ryan Adams did with Taylor Swift’s album.
Harkening back slightly to that Love is Hell sound, Adams drowns in reverb and slick production
tricks on the snarling, accusatory “All You Had to Do Was Stay”; desperate,
unhinged, and on the verge, he hurls lines like “Why’d you have to go and lock me out when I let you in” with a
reckless abandon not heard very often in contemporary popular music. It’s raw
and visceral—the kind of way you would say it in between sobs of air after
you’d just been dumped.
Some of Adams’ best tracks, throughout his 15 year solo
career, have been his contemplative, slow burning, piano driven material (e.g.
“Elizabeth, You Were Born to Play That Part.”) And “This Love” is no
exception—he turns a middle of the road, saccharine ballad by Swift into
another howling, frisson inducing, unforgettable performance. “When you’re young, you run,” he sings
into the cavernous abyss with that same reckless abandon creating a haunting,
evocative moment that takes a hold of you and never lets go.
2. Kanye West- “Only
One”/”All Day”
“Only One” was the last song I heard in the final, fleeting
hours of 2014, and my iTunes library claims I purchased it at 7 in the morning on
New Year’s Day. Truthfully, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it—and 12
months later, I’m still not sure. Is it completely improvised? Did Kanye’s
mother really sing through him? These
are the questions I ask myself when I listen to it.
It’s a beautiful song though. Kanye is a better singer than
he gives himself credit for, and in 2015, he doesn’t need to hide behind as
much auto-tune as always ends up doing.
What really got me with this song is the live version of it
Kanye performed on “The Jonathan Ross” show earlier in the year—“Nori is my
daughter’s name,” he explains during the coda. “I have her name right here on
my chest.”
It was this moment—this very humanized, touching moment that
prompted me to get a tattoo of my rabbit Sophie, who passed away in February,
on my wrist.
The flipside of this is the only “real” Kanye song we got
this year—I say that because the first quarter of the year was dubbed “Yeezy
Season,” and we all thought it was going to peak with the announcement of a new
album. And while “FourFiveSeconds” and “Only One” seemed like weird studio
experiments with Paul McCartney, “All Day” was the only full realized and
commercially released single Kanye put out in 2015 (while “Wolves” was played
at his Adidas show and live on “Saturday Night Live,” it never turned up as a
single.)
Based around a whistled McCartney melody, “All Day” is pure
braggadocio—“You a fake Denzel like that
All State ni**a,” he says at one point, taking shots at actor Dennis
Haysbert for no real reason, then later he drops, “Like a light skinned slave, boy—we in the motherfuckin’ house.”
“All Day” is a combination of West’s artistic leanings (it’s
meandering instrumental breaks are incredibly self indulgent) with his pop
sensibility (that huge sounding melody that serves as a hook, bringing you back
to the repeated phrase, “All day ni**a.”
Is Kanye’s new album going to come out in 2016? Was it ever
even going to come out in 2015? Will either of these songs be on it if it ever
materializes?
These are questions he answered with a sample on the 2013
song “On Site”—“He’ll give us what we
need. It may not be what we want.”
3. Sister Crayon –
“To Show You Violence”
“I’m tired of thinking
about you.” It’s a line that appears twice on Sister Crayon’s phenomenal
sophomore album, and it appears in two different context: first, it arrives in
the lusty, frenetic opening track, “Amor”; then in the album’s second to last,
and most fragile moment, it arrives in “To Show You Violence,” as a bit of a
defeated resolve, which is the thing that makes it such a compelling listen.
Somber and haunted, it’s the most tender sounding track on
the otherwise angsty, aggressive Devoted,
as frontwoman Terra Lopez is able to contain her otherworldly howl, softly and
elegantly making her way through the song’s lyrics—“ There is no need for to tell me nothing I don’t already know—we lack
control,” she sings honestly.
It’s a song that, musically, it seems like it’s working
toward something—like something bigger, or some kind of moment where it takes
off, but that moment never comes. The song peaks with an all too brief, thickly
delayed guitar solo before drifting back off into the ether from which it came.
4. American Wrestlers
– “There’s No One Crying Over Me Either”
When you think “pop” music, you think of what you hear on FM
stations and what moves units in department stores or in iTunes—not quirky,
five-minute indie meditations. But with a song as infectious as “There’s No One
Crying Over Me Either,” you’ll want to reconsider what you think is “pop”
music. Think last year’s “Runaway,” and you’ll get the idea of what I’m going for.
Based around a rather simple progression of chords,
rollicking piano and a dusty sounding drum machine—the song’s lo-fi charm is
just one of its selling points. American Wrestler himself Gary McClure’s
reserved vocal delivery is also what makes it such an interesting listen.
And then there’s that huge hook in disguise—every verse
being brought back around to the simple phrase, “But there’s no one crying over me either.”
5. Lera Lynn- “My
Least Favorite Life”
Ok so “True Detective” season two was a bit of a bust, and I
won’t use this opportunity to get into exactly all the reasons why it didn’t
work—one thing it did give us was this dark and haunted murder ballad by Lera
Lynn, an obscure singer/songwriter plucked to be this season’s Vonda Shepherd
if you will—she was the beat up looking singer in the bar where Vince Vaughn
and Collin Ferrell went on all their dates.
Co-written by Lynn along with the show’s music supervisors,
it paints vague pictures using strong imagery—is it talking about the shows
characters? Or is it just some cool sounding ambiguous shit to sing over reverb
heavy, tremeloed guitar strumming?
Either way, “My Least Favorite” life creates a memorable
moment that can stand on its own once removed from its source material.
6. Flock of Dimes –
“Don’t Dream, It’s Over”
Can you name another song that uses the word “deluge” in its
lyrics?
Probably not.
“Don’t Dream, It’s Over” has always been one of my favorite
songs from the 1980s, and here in the capable hands of Wye Oak’s Jenn Wasner,
it takes on new life, turning it into a mournful, yet slinky electro-infused
slow jam.
7. Erykah Badu
featuring Andre 3000 – “Hello”
A bit of a late edition to the list, “Hello” is tucked at
the tail end of Badu’s bizarrely captivating telephone themed mixtape, and
Andre’s guest appearance comes as a complete (and welcome) surprise.
The song itself serves as a chance for both Andre to flex
his incredible abilities on the microphone (and holy shit, does he ever on
this), but also to makes a point—“Leave
your phone unlocked and right side up, walk out the room without throwin’ your
bitch off balance,” he raps, breathlessly in his opening line, tackling the
challenges of a modern romance. He also references Build-A-Bear, Kermit The
Frog, and asks an important question about using call waiting—and that’s all
within 90 seconds of when he opens his mouth.
Even when it descends into Anrde and Badu referring to each
other by pet names, it’s still a gorgeous, smooth, slow burning jam about the
complexities of love.
8. Carly Rae Jepsen –
“Run Away With Me”
Okay yes, every ‘best of’ list needs a big, dumb pop song on
it, and this is that song. And in this case, it’s a big, smart pop song. Sure,
it has a saxophone featured throughout, which was apparently “a thing” recently
in pop music, but you can’t fault Jepsen, because this thing is so good—it’s
got it all: a catchy pre-chorus, a huge, shout a long refrain, and mildly
suggestive and partially insipid lyrics. It’s the kind of pop song you can’t
help but fall in love with instantly the first time you hear it.
9. Chihei Hatakeyama
and Federico Durand – “Maria” and
10. Celer –
“Bleeds and Swell Bends”
I saved my two favorite ambient/experimental tracks for last,
and part of me thought about putting them on their own list—but they are both
so good, and so impressive, that they needed to be included on this all
encompassing list, albeit at the end.
“Maria” begins as a slow motion whisper, deliberately fading
in with its soothing, comforting patterns of alternating tones, taking its time
as it leads toward something much greater—“Bleeds and Swell Bends,” on the
other hand, wastes no time, throwing you right into its cascading, swirling
waves of sound.
Both pieces border on the “self indulgent” side when it
comes to their length, but for me, both need to be this long in order to create
the kind of atmosphere that they do. And both pieces are shining examples of
the emotional listening experience you can craft with ambient music when it’s
done the right way.
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