This isn’t meant to be some severe pronouncement of the year’s best music because who the hell am I? Neither is this meant to be a year-end playlist for a New Year’s Eve party (unless your party plans consist of some red wine and alone time— and if that’s the case then, by all means, go in). It’s not even a fully comprehensive list of all the songs I loved this year, mainly because I thought it’d get a little tiresome seeing “Beyoncé… Beyoncé… Beyoncé… Beyoncé…” straight down the page.
These are the songs that really walked with me throughout this very difficult year, and I’ve written a few words on what each of them means to me. They aren’t ranked after the first two, my favorite song of the year and the extremely close runner up, but listed in the order they were released. I hope you enjoy the read and the listens.
I hadn’t originally intended to rank any of these songs at all, but I'd be lying if I said "Hold Up" wasn't my #1. Beyoncé put out a lot of songs I loved this year— basically, anything from Lemonade could be on this list, but special recognition must be given to "Love Drought," "Pray You Catch Me," "Forward," and of course "Sorry." And "Formation"?! I mean, the video alone… But nothing else I heard this year hit every corner of my psyche like "Hold Up" did. It's that rare dancefloor flooder that benefits from a close solo listen on good headphones (store bought is fine). The lyrics can bring up old love gone wrong, lingering insecurities, resentments you didn't even know you had; the beat will make you want to slow wind on the closest vertical structure. It's heartbreaking and funny at the same time. A melancholy bop in a year full of melancholy bops (see also: Rihanna's "Work" and Solange’s “Cranes in the Sky,” both of which I also loved for many of the same reasons) that still feels entirely singular. It's a song that soundtracked my darkest and sunniest moments of 2016 equally well. It will probably be years before I take it out of rotation.
"A Burning Hill" – Mitski
The only non-Beyoncé track that came close to knocking "Hold Up" off the top spot was "A Burning Hill" by Mitski. I don't really know how to give higher praise than that, so I could probably just stop writing here, but I'm not gonna. “A Burning Hill,” the closing track of the incredible album Puberty 2, is—to my ears—a perfect song: gorgeous melody, subtle but immersive production, impeccable instrumental and vocal delivery, and a lyric that says an awful lot in very few words. The simplest way I can summarize it is to say it’s a song about settling: for tenderness instead of great love, for a job instead of a career, for the life you have instead of the life you want. But the song remarkably communicates both the feeling of defeat and the sense of calm that could come from such a surrender. And that paradox is woven into every fiber of this song, from the direct yet image-driven choice of language (the forest fire metaphor is just… my God) to Mitski’s unembellished yet achingly sincere style of singing. The idea of finding peace in hopelessness seemed especially poignant, even aspirational, to me this year, and Mitski presented it flawlessly.
"Cookin" – TT the Artist & Dai Burger
I have to confess a few biases here: I've lived in Baltimore for about a decade, so TT the Artist has Hometown Hero status in my mind; the same goes for Schwarz, even if he’s gone to L.A.; Jeremiah Meece is responsible for about half of one of my favorite albums of the year (Mykki); and Dai Burger is one of the coolest performers I've ever had the privilege to meet and share weird nachos with at The Crown. Now, all that aside? This song slaps. TT and Dai alternate verses as Schwarz and Meece alternate beats, but the track never feels disjointed. Rather, the transition from the first verse's smooth, slow grind to the second's high-energy invitation to twerk is seamless, building anticipation just before the rhythm switches. While both rappers are in fine lyrical form on “Cookin,” TT sets the ball and Dai spikes it, riding the beat with what I think may be the best flow of her career thus far. Her verse is playful, funny, and sexy, and it leaves you wanting more, just like the rest of the song.
Hopelessness is an uncomfortable listen, track after track. The language is blunt, if not hamfisted at times, and the music constantly tilts along a fine line between Pop and Noise. The subject matter is unrelentingly harsh: drone warfare, global warming, government surveillance— and that’s just tracks 1-3. It’s an album that’s meant to disquiet you, to make you examine your own complicity in larger global ills, and to have you question to what degree you’ve sacrificed your empathy and humanity to live comfortably in this world. “Violent Men,” the album’s center point, was Anohni’s most targeted wake up call for me. As someone attracted to men, I constantly wrestle with the extent to which I’ve allowed the dangerous, corrosive things our society equates with manhood to inform my sexual ideals. Or put another way: even though I’m not a violent person, doesn’t my willingness to reward men who could or would commit violent acts with my attention, my affection, or even my body contribute to the cycle of pain and damage I find so repulsive? Am I not another Spacely’s Sprocket in the same machine that rewards cagefighters with endorsement deals and primetime television exposure? that rewards murder-committing cops with legal absolution and million-dollar GoFundMe campaigns? that rewards brutal, menacing rhetoric with the presidency of the United States? “Violent Men” is two minutes and four lines long, and it managed to put me through all that (what kinda witchcraft…?). Its repeated incantation of “Never again” compels me to be better.
"High School Never Ends" – Mykki Blanco ft. Woodkid
Mykki, like Lemonade and Puberty 2, is an album full of highlights, so it's hard to choose just one stand-out track. But "High School Never Ends" just feels like such an achievement, both on its own and in the context of Mykki Blanco's body of work. While many of Blanco's earlier songs sound ramshackle or off the cuff, "High School Never Ends" feels entirely through-composed, stately, and magisterial. It’s done with such a masterful and balanced hand— there's an academic quality to the music, the string arrangement in particular, that never blunts the emotional impact of the lyrics. It's also a song that, for me, evokes a very clear image, as if I can see the not-yet-made film scene that "High School Never Ends" so perfectly accompanies. The song is powerful and yet still delicate; vulnerable yet mannered... sort of like a high schooler, I guess. And I think that's how a lot of us felt all throughout this year.
“Freedun” – M.I.A. ft. Zayn
I just now read a tweet from a friend wherein she and her husband imagined what 2016 was like in Bizarro World (think along the lines of a Prince/David Bowie duet album), and I believe M.I.A.’s “Freedun” was accidentally beamed to our reality from some similar alternate universe. Although the song isn’t really about anything—the chorus is a love song, the verses are… something else, I don’t know what—it’s above all transportive. The track has atmosphere and ambience for days; you can fairly feel the wind sweeping Zayn’s vocals over the hook, and the long outro seems to exist solely for the listener to get lost in. It’s music to daydream to, something I’m always grateful for regardless of the year.
"To the Fair Motormaids of Japan" – Tori Amos
Boys for Pele, which was granted a two-disc 20th anniversary re-release this year, is the ur-Tori Amos album. If you love Tori, chances are it's one of your favorite recordings of all time. If you hate Tori… hell, it might be the reason why. The album is Tori unfiltered, musically and lyrically. And "To the Fair Motormaids of Japan," a previously unreleased song from early in the album's sessions that achieved somewhat legendary status among fans over the years, is possibly the ur-Boys for Pele track. Its structure is loose: a seemingly unrelated piano intro followed by verse-chorus-bridge-modified chorus, and then it's done. Vocally, Tori mewls then croons, sweeps down from a heady soprano to a rich alto, and sings with a level of emotion such that the words sometimes catch in her throat. Those words, of course, make no sense— until they do. "The things that I would go through to turn you back around... The things that I’d turn into to turn you back to me again..." If you've lived it, then you get it; there's no other way to explain it. Doesn't get more Tori than that.
“Mellow Man” – Laura Mvula
Mellow man, don’t let this wide smile fool you,
It ain’t coming from the inside.
Every night, I listen out for an answer,
Hoping this pain won’t last for long.
Trying to begin again.
This time I’ll be ready—
Ready for love, ready to love.
My thoughts of 2016 and hopes for 2017 exactly. Happy New Year! ♥