January 2018: Album Review Roundup

For a traditionally-quiet time of the year, January has been a surprisingly fantastic month for music. As 2018 trudges off to a slow start, I figured it would be helpful to collect all of the best projects from the past 31 days in one place.

Truth be told, this is just a writing exercise to get myself going on a particularly-sloggy Tuesday morning, but this roundup is as much for me (to help keep track of the ever-growing mountain of music I love), as it is for you to (hopefully) discover something new and refreshing.

Tiny Moving Parts - Swell

Within the space of two years, Tiny Moving Parts have cemented themselves as one of the most interesting, technical, and personable acts in modern emo. Featuring unpredictable math-rock time signatures, heartfelt lyrics, and shimmering production, Swell is the group’s most concerted effort to date.

Lil Wayne - Dedication 6: Reloaded

After a steady stream of qualitymixtapes beginning in 2015 Lil Wayne has been low-key killing it for years now. As he continues to grapple with ongoing public problems surrounding his forthcoming Tha Carter V, it’s becoming more evident with each passing day that fans may never get to hear that album. Luckily for us, while we wait for the vaporware LP Wayne is still free to drop impeccable rhymes over some of the hottest beats in recent years. From “Plain Jane” to “Gucci Gang,” D6: Reloaded is one of the best mixtapes of the rapper’s career. Interspersed with brief interview clips, each track offers a peek one step further into Wayne’s psyche until we’re deeper than we’ve ever seen before. The mixtape ends up being a 90-minute proving ground of chest-inflating punchlines, pussy-eating poetry, and effortless flows from one of the best in the game. A true return to form.

Ty Segall - Freedom’s Goblin

Packed with funky grooves, hip-swiveling rhythms, and lip-curling fuzz, Freedom’s Goblin is Ty Segall’s unabashedly-glammy double-album. Just as eclectic as fans have come to expect, Goblin dips into dozens of different psychedelic sounds over the course of its 1 hour 15-minute running time. After he borrows inspiration from them, all these disparate genres are then filtered down through one bizarre, unique, and unified multi-instrumental mind. This is a rock album of the highest order.

JPEGMAFIA - Veteran

One of my biggest surprises of the month, Veteran is the fourth mixtape from Los Angeles-based rapper and producer JPEGMAFIA. Taking cues from Clipping, Death Grips, Yung Jake, and Odd Future, Peggy offers up an utterly ballistic assault on the senses with this tape. Attacking everyone and everything in his sights, he uses a deft understanding of music, humor, and internet culture to create something that’s wholly his own.

Jay Some - Pirouette 7”

Following the critical acclaim of the blissed-out bedroom pop found on Everybody Works, Jay Som is back with two new tracks from the same session that didn’t make the initial cut. Equally dreamy, hazy, and intimate, both “Pirouette” and “O.K., Meet Me Underwater” flesh out Duterte’s musical persona and act as supporting evidence that the success of her breakthrough LP was no accident.

Migos - Culture II

With 24 tracks stretched over an exhausting 105 minutes, Culture II is a prime example of an artist doing their own thing. Following-up last year’s impactful sophomore effort, Culture II doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it doesn’t have to. From earworm choruses to infectious ad-libs, the Atlanta trio busts out trap anthem after trap anthem at an alarming pace until they tire themselves (and the listener) out. The group seems to have accepted and/or embraced their fate as musical popcorn: not exactly filling, but an undeniably fun snack.

No Age - Snares Like A Haircut

With bright, driving, summery rhythms, Snares Like A Haircut is a dream punk album in the style of Japandroids that’s designed for cruising the highway top-down on warm summer days. It’s an album-length injection of adrenaline into your veins that will keep you in motion, either willingly or by force.  

Drake - Scary Hours EP

Unceremoniously released late on a Friday night, Drake’s two-song EP has already been streamed millions of times, shattered single-day streaming records, and then preceded to break them again. Both mid-tempo stream-of-consciousness updates on the 6 God’s life since More Life, these two tracks are merely supporting evidence that Drake is still at the top of the game.

August Burns Red - Messengers Remixed

Messengers, one of the most pivotal metalcore records of all time, enjoyed its tenth anniversary this past July. Supported by a worldwide tour celebrating the album’s enduring success (and hot on the heels of a Grammy nomination for 2017’s Phantom Anthem), the progressive metal pioneers also released a full remaster of their breakthrough LP. Just as hard-hitting as the day it came out, Messengers now sounds better than ever with crushing breakdowns, tight instrumentation, and a newly-balanced mix.

Jeff Rosenstock - POST-

On literally the first day of the year, power pop god Jeff Rosenstock made his mantra for 2018 clear when he unleashed POST- into the world. With optimistic tracks of self-affirmation, aimless aggression, and political defiance, POST- is both the cure for your New Year’s hangover and the solution to everyday lethargy.

Shame - Songs of Praise

Far and away my favorite album of the month, Songs of Praise is the debut record from London-based post-punk group Shame. It’s an aggressive, moody, and surprisingly poetic album that’s currently filling the IDLES-shaped hole in my heart. Cold and grey, angry and calculating, this is an unflinching and immaculate record that took me by surprise and still hasn’t let go.

…and the rest

This month we’ve also been lucky enough to get new singles from Camp Cope, Jack White, The Voidz, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Troye Sivan, Ought, Palm, Alesana, MGMT, Savages, Franz Ferdinand, Car Seat Headrest, and Yo La Tengo. Whew.

We’re off to a good start, now let’s keep it together.

Swim Into The Sound’s 2017 Un-Awards

Welcome to Swim Into The Sound’s first annual Un-Awards! In this direct (and more negative) companion piece to our Diamond Platters, we take a moment to reflect on some of the worst moments in music over the past year. From bad lyrics to tasteless cover art, this is a quick-hit version of the lowest points that 2017 had to offer.

In a year where we keep thinking “well, at least things can’t get any worse” 2017 always managed to surprise us. From politics and celebrities all the way down to movies and music, this was a year of general-purpose deplorable behavior and reprehensible choices. While there were plenty of good moments over the past 365 days, you will find that none of that light reaches these depths. This post is a place of darkness, a hell devoted solely to the most soul-crushing and life-questioning music of the year.

I’d also like to throw out a disclaimer that I don’t particularly like being pessimistic, especially when it comes to art that people have (presumably) worked hard on. Aside from that, negativity stands in direct opposition to the ideals that this website was founded on in the first place. What I’ve found is that it’s hard to talk about the good without also thinking of the bad, especially for a year like 2017. As I mentioned before, the previous post is the exact inverse of this one, and the next article going up will cover our favorite albums of the year, so if you are searching for affirmation, this is not the place to find it. Just think of this as the lone negative meat in a positivity sandwich.

Truth be told, aside from a few visibly-frothy entries, most of these awards are positive spins on negative experiences: moments that surprised me, music I’m embarrassed to enjoy, or weird synchronicities that I noticed throughout the year. I could have gone out of my way to shit on Katy Perry, The Chainsmokers, Imagine Dragons, or any number of middling radio-ready albums that were released this year, but at a certain point that all just feels redundant and hack. I prefer to be original in my distaste. So without any further adieu, I’m proud to present Swim Into The Sound’s list of the most spine-chillingly-regrettable music of 2017.

Biggest Disappointment

Winner: Queens of the Stone Age - Villains

Being a fan is a mixed blessing. The upside is that you get to enjoy the rollercoaster of hype that is an album rollout and you get the sweet experience of listening to a highly-anticipated album for the first time when it releases. On the flip side, that fandom can easily backfire if your expectations have been built up too high. While I love Queens of the Stone Age, in 2017 I fear that I may be outgrowing them. The group’s 2004 release Songs for the Deaf is literally my favorite album of all time, and there’s no higher praise than that. Each record since then has been good to great until 2013’s …Like Clockwork which just didn’t sit right with me outside of a select few songs.

This year, the group’s seventh LP represents a new artistic low. Featuring limp “dancy” grooves, irritatingly-clean instruments, and some of the most laughable lyrics I’ve ever heard, the band we see on Villains bears little resemblance the one that I fell in love with years ago. I recognize that wanting a band to stay the same is a shitty thing for a fan to ask, but I just can’t understand, enjoy, or tolerate the direction that the group is headed. I’m a lifelong fan, but that makes these recent records hurt all the more. When you love a band, you devour each release that they put out. Even if the last few records haven’t hit as hard, you stick with them because you want them to be better. The excitement of something new is impossible to stay away from, but now after months of listening, all I want is for Villains to stay away from me.

Runner-up: Portugal. The Man - Woodstock

While I wrote glowingly about Portugal. The Man’s entire discography last month, Woodstock (while not bad) is not an album that I particularly wanted. It’s not the band’s worst, but it’s the most sterile, safe, and poppy album that the group has ever created. Outside of a handful of adrenaline-pumping car-ready songs, Woodstock takes no risks. The album breaks no new ground, asks nothing of its audience, and seems entirely too content to settle. While those qualities are the exact opposite of what I expect from the trailblazing Portlanders, I’ll hold my reservations until I hear what comes next.

Album I Feel Like I Will Adore In A Few Years

Winner: Fleet Foxes - Crack-up

Until earlier this year I never particularly liked Fleet Foxes. In preparation for their 2017 release, I found myself endlessly replaying the group’s self-titled LP alongside Helplessness Blues while doing other things. Somewhere along the line “inoffensive background music” turned into brilliant folk epics, and I finally understood what made the band so unique. However, in a Bon Iver-esque pivot, Fleet Foxes’ third LP Crack-up represents an experimental shift in sounds, and unfortunately, it’s a change that doesn’t sit particularly well with me. There are some awe-inspiring moments scattered throughout this record, but as a whole, it’s not a release that stuck with me in the slightest, let alone one that can hold a candle to the band’s earlier work. I recognize that there’s something special going on in Crack-up, but I feel like it will just take some time for me to properly excavate it, just as I did with the group’s first two records.

Runner-up: Sun Kil Moon - Common As Light and Love Are Red Valleys of Blood

Sun Kil Moon is another artist that I’d never listened to until 2017. After hearing this year’s mouthful of an album Common As Light and Love Are Red Valleys of Blood, I came away pleasantly surprised. Featuring solemn, looping instrumentation and long podcast-like narration by Mark Kozelek, I listened to all two hours and ten minutes in complete fascination. I dipped back into his previous work like Benji and loved it just as much, but for whatever reason, I never ventured back into Valleys after that first listen. Maybe it was the album’s lengthy running time or the idea that the narration would prove too distracting for a casual listen, but Valleys always felt too daunting to dive back into. I feel like one day when I’m a middle-aged dad with a couple of kids I’ll finally have the time to revisit this album and it will speak to me on an entirely new level. The songs and stories here feel like something that I will find solace in when I’m older, but I just don’t have the 2+ hours right now.

WTF Moment of the Year

Winner: Bhad Bhabie

Of all the memes to emerge from 2017, few have been as successful as 14-year-old Danielle Bregoli. She first gained traction in January thanks to a Dr. Phil clip in which Mrs. Bregoli challenged an audience member to “cash her outside.” The teen’s delivery of the phrase caught fire and became a meme/infinitely-renewable social media caption for a hot minute. One of the more perplexing news stories of 2017 (and that’s saying something) was Danielle’s announcement of her music career as “Bhad Bhabi” complete with a deal on Atlantic Records. Preceded by an appearance in a Kodak Black video, this announcement blindsided the music world and spawned a million think pieces. However when Bregoli released her first song in August the unthinkable happened: It wasn’t that bad.

The video for “These Heaux” was the first part of a one-two punch alongside “Hi Bich” that set social media ablaze in September. As everyone collectively remembered the months-old meme from what seemed like a lifetime ago, most people took this as an opportunity to laugh at her once again. Meanwhile, I watched the same videos as everyone, and recognized it as bad music, but found myself embarrassingly enjoying both songs. “Heaux” and “Hi Bich” are both competent and well-produced Rae Sremmurd-esque bangers that, yes, are propped up by production, but still enjoyable. The truth is, they’re musical fast food. It’s not nutritious, healthy, or even filling, but sometimes you just need to bask in the utter trashiness that is Bhad Bhabie.

Runner-up: Lil Pump

Earlier this year I wrote a 3,000-word post in which I attempted to reconcile my newfound love of trap with my extreme dislike of the current crop of SoundCloud rappers. While that write-up was primarily inspired by the reprehensible human being that is xxxtentacion, I now regret lumping Lil Pump into the same category. While his brand of blown-out hyped-up trap is of the same school as xxx, Lil Pump isn’t nearly as bad on a personal or musical level as Onfroy. More surprisingly, I actually found myself liking his breakout single “Gucci Gang” more than I am comfortable admitting. Featuring a worryingly-mindless chorus and the same laundry list of flexes as most trap hits, “Gucci Gang” manages to be an infectious banger that has also propelled Pump to the forefront of both the charts and popular culture.

Most Un-sexy Sex Song

Winner: Alt-J “Hit Me Like That Snare”

In an interview with Q Magazine, Alt-J’s lead singer Joe Newman described “Hit Me Like That Snare” as an “atypically filthy psychedelic grind.” Wow, guys. Wow. If you want to avoid listening to the song, I don’t blame you. All you need to know about this track is that the band rhymes “slithering” with “scissoring” (yes, that kind), and the lead singer describes the song as “spicy.” Whew.

Runner-up: DJ Khaled “Wild Thoughts”

While I thought “Wild Thoughts” was exceedingly-sensual on first listen, the song now has too many things working against it for me to find any titillation here. From Rihanna’s baby talk to memories of dancing hot dogs, I just can’t listen to this song without picturing Santana’s face, or DJ Khaled screaming. The single achieved a level of cultural-pervasiveness so quickly that it became saturated beyond its original artistic vision. God knows I have no problem with DJ Khaled, but this track now contains too many distractions to remain pure. The music video is still unspeakably steamy, but as a whole, “Wild Thoughts” has lost what little sexy luster it initially had.

Am I The Only One Seeing This Shit?

Winner: Rappers Counting

I’ll admit that this category was created with the sole purpose of repurposing already-written articles, but that doesn’t make the observations contained within them any less valid. The first of these two hyper-specific happenings of 2017 can be found in this article where I outline three examples of rappers using numbers as lyrics. Not like clever wordplay involving numbers, but counting upwards sequentially one numeral at a time. It’s a weird thing to have happened multiple times in one year and feels like such a lazy cop-out of songwriting, but at the same time, each artist in the list manages to make it work for one reason or another.

Runner-up: 21 Savage’s Food Lyrics

Another weirdly-specific phenomenon of 2017 is something that I noticed while listening to 21 Savage’s debut Issa Album over the summer. Despite his tough gangster exterior and dark, moody beats, 21 also managed to fit an alarming number of food references into his first retail outing. While not particularly jarring, these references provide a weird contrast to the rest of the Mr. Savage’s “murder music” and end up sticking out like (multiple) sore thumbs throughout the record. It happened just consistently enough that I began laughing every time they poked up, and I felt the cosmic need to compile them somewhere, so I did.

Most Insensitive and Heavy-handed Song about Suicide

Winner: Arcade Fire “Creature Comfort”

On this second single off Arcade Fire’s Everything Now, we hear Win Butler clumsily address the topics of suicide and self-harm. The song’s first verse explains “Some boys hate themselves / Spend their lives resenting their fathers / Some girls hate their bodies / Stand in the mirror and wait for the feedback.” Taken on their own, these lines aren’t particularly offensive, but it’s the second verse where things get truly tactless: “Assisted suicide / She dreams about dying all the time / She told me she came so close / Filled up the bathtub and put on our first record.” I mean, what a pretentious and shitty way to insert yourself into someone else’s misery. It’s such a bizarre form of narcissism and masturbating to your own past, this line truly is one of the grossest sentiments that I’ve heard put to music over the past year.

Runner-up: Brand New “Same Logic / Teeth”

While it’s true that suicide isn’t exactly a groundbreaking topic for an emo band, Brand New somehow manages to stumble over it fantastically one of the few times that they tackle the subject. Surrounded by excellent songs of diverse sounds, styles, and topics, “Same Logic / Teeth” sticks out as Science Fiction’s  most significant blunder. With questionable lyrics, bizarre vocal choices, and overwrought sentiments, it’s easy to see why most bands would prefer not write songs about killing yourself because the only time I have ever wanted to end my life is when I’m hearing Jesse Lacey sing about how fish won’t judge me by my faults.  

WTF Moment of the Year 2: Weird Boogaloo

Winner: Vulfpeck “Captain Hook”

Venturing back to the “WTF Well” for two more entries, another of 2017’s biggest surprises came at the end of Vulfpeck’s Mr. Finish Line. The band’s third full-length studio album is a stone-cold chiller, but after half an hour of unspeakably funky tracks, “Captain Hook,” the record’s final song threw me (and every other listener) for a massive loop. Teased as a collaboration with Bootsy Collins, most fans expected a brainwave-shifting epic of an album closer, a modern “I’d Rather Be With You” but with even tighter instrumentation. What we got was a goofy comedy track featuring two of Vulfpeck’s members affecting the voices of an infant and an old Jewish man. Bootsy’s contributions are noticeable but minimal, and as a whole, the track is just a fantastically-bizarre experiment. “Captain Hook” is a weird child-like song featuring a trio of the three most disparate voices you could ever imagine, however (now that I know what to expect), I absolutely adore the song. It’s such a weird marriage of voices that, when combined with Vulf’s approach to music, circles back from annoying to endearing. It’s one final cherry of weirdness on top of the funk sundae that is Mr. Finish Line.

Runner-up: Taylor Swift “Look What You Made Me Do”

Preceded by snake imagery and a dark rebranding, “Look What You Made Me Do” marked Taylor Swift’s long-awaited return to the forefront of pop. After 2015’s 1989, numerous turbulent relationships, a public unmasking via Kardashian, and a complicated legal battle, the song represents Swift’s full embrace of the dark side. As the first single released off Reputation, “Look What You Made Me Do” was met with waves of confusion when it dropped this fall. From the Right Said Fred sample to the thinly-veiled jabs at her detractors, nearly everything about this song was poked and prodded through upon it’s August 25th release. There’s a strange schadenfreude to watching the biggest pop star flail to spectacularly, but at the end of the day she’ll still make a million dollars, sold-out rock stadiums, and be more successful than the richest DC supervillain, so as much as I want her to succeed, I guess it’s also okay to laugh. I definitely haven’t “come around” to the song, and I doubt I ever will, but the air of “what the fuck” was palpable the night that this song was released.

Weirdest Flex

Winner: Lil Pump “Gucci Gang”

After a brief intro and meme-ready chorus on “Gucci Gang,” Lil Pump surveys his surroundings and begins to describe them in the song’s sole verse. “My lean cost more than your rent” he boasts, “Your momma still live in a tent” he continues, “Still slangin’ dope in the ‘jects / Me and my grandma take meds.” These lines are so outlandish and bizarre that I can’t help but love them. First, we get the worrying comparison between the upkeep of his own opiate addiction to monthly rent, then the (uncalled for) implication that the listener’s mother is homeless, and the final cherry on top: the fact that Pump spends quality time popping pills with his grandmother.

It’s actually one of Pump’s numerousreferencesto theelderly on his scant number of released songs, leading me to think that this is either A) a genuine lyric, or B) a worrying cry for help. At least he’s spending some quality time with his elders before they pass. Even if it’s a drug-fueled haze, I hope that both parties treasure their remaining time together.

Runner-up: Drake “Gyalchester”

On one of More Life’s most hard-hitting tracks, “Gyalchester” finds Drake braggadociously displaying his opulence in rapid lyrical flashes. Halfway through the first verse, the song’s beat cuts out just long enough for Drake to exclaim “I don’t take naps / Me and the money are way too attached to go and do that.” While the sentiment of money over everything is hardly new for the rap game, using naps as a framing device to explain how fond of currency you are is such a “Drake way” to go about it. At this point, Drake is far beyond the memes of his earlier career, but lines like this one are how he got that reputation in the first place. All this said, I’m not gonna begrudge anyone their beauty sleep or lack thereof, everyone has their own unique schedule… Plus the song bangs, so cornball lyrics are easier to overlook.

Most Abhorrent Cover Art

Winner: The Darkness - Pinewood Smile

I honestly don’t want to write too much because I just want to stop looking at this. The facial hair. The teeth. The nose ring. The Photoshopped band members. I’m sorry I had to subject you guys to this, but this abortion of a cover is too bad to not share.

Runner-up: Maroon 5 - Red Pill Blues

*Adam Levine walks into the studio*

“Hey, have you guys heard of Snapchat?”

Most Undeservedly Shit Upon

Winner: Arcade Fire - Everything Now

For the sake of ending on a somewhat positive note, I’m going to wrap up by talking about two albums that were widely disliked, but I managed to appreciate. First off we have Arcade Fire’s fifth LP Everything Now. While I did just spend a paragraph dunking on the album’s suicide track, I actually thoroughly enjoyed this record. I’ll start this off by saying I have no reverence for this band, I don’t care for their older work, and they’ve always struck me as a painfully average indie group. Perhaps thanks to this lowered expectation, I emerged from my first listen of Everything Now with a smile on my face. It was goofy and cheesy, and about as far from subtle as you can get, but I still enjoyed it for what it was. Since the album is in this “shit upon” category, I guess it goes without saying that I was largely alone in this sentiment.

Maybe people were turned off by the unrelenting social media campaign, or just expected more based on the group’s previous work, but either way, it seemed like indieheads the world over were sick to their stomachs after hearing this record. I personally think the album has a wonderful Abba-esque charm to it. There’s a tremendous melodic through-line with the titular “Everything Now,” there are memorable choruses on “Creature Comfort,” and even a gloriously chunky riff on “Chemistry.”

At the end of the day, I think I enjoy Everything Now for the same reason that I enjoyed M83’s Junk. I went into both albums with low expectations and ended up loving the cheesy throwback vibe that they embraced. I can totally understand why that pivot would turn off long-time fans, but apparently, this sound is right up my alley. It’s not going to be on my end of the year list or anything, all I’m saying is Everything Now is good for what it is. You know what? It’s great for what it is. If fans could take their blinders off, remove their feelings on the album’s lead-up, and take this as a standalone adventure, they would probably enjoy Everything Now for the goofy romp that it is.

Runner-up: Foo Fighters - Concrete and Gold

Even before Concrete and Gold was released, I saw about a half dozen articles about how the Foo Fighters have nowhere else to go and are the embodiment of “New Dad Rock.” While it’s true that the band is unchallenging to listen to and don’t exactly think outside of the box, the criticism is a double-edged sword. Aside from being a thinly-veiled put-down, the dad rock label means that Foo Fighters won’t ever release a “bad” record, but they’re also never going to release another “classic” like Colour and Shape. While I agree the group is in a weird spot career-wise, I resent the idea that they won’t ever release something impactful as Colour and Shape simply because they’re older. Apart from the fact that 2011’s Wasting Light was one of the band’s best, on Concrete and Gold we see a band that’s still incredibly hungry.

Eschewing the conceptualframing devices of their past couple releases, Foo Fighters set out to make a straight-up rock record, and they succeeded. The band still go through their usual motions, oscillating from biting punky tracks to slow moody epics, but as a whole Concrete is a record that’s well-paced, well-produced, and solid from front to back. Just because it’s played on the radio doesn’t mean it’s an inherently “okay” album, and just because the band is growing old doesn’t mean they’re settling. Concrete and Gold is concrete proof of that.

The First Annual Diamond Platters: Swim Into The Sound’s Ancillary End of the Year Awards

Whether you like it or not, it’s awards season. The time of the year when every music publication sits down to rank, order, and pass judgment on the last 365 days of art. As every outlet races to beat each other to those illustrious “end of the year list clicks,” I am only one man, and I just can’t compete. While Swim Into The Sound does still have an official “Best Albums of 2017” list in the works, this countdown is going to be a little different.

For the first time ever, I’d like to welcome you to Swim Into The Sound’s Diamond Platter Awards: an extravagant, ornate, and handsome way to recognize the past year of music. Grandiose, gaudy, and opulent, The Diamond Platters are the most exorbitant awards on the entirety of the internet, and the absolute highest honor of online music blogging awards.

Aside from poking fun at the seriousness of list season, these awards do have a purpose: to talk about music that may not be discussed otherwise. It’s always fun to see how everyone ranks albums each year (even if they start rolling in around November) but more often than not, most website’s “best of the year” list ends up coming off as rote rambling. A half-hearted and inconsistent ranking that merely regurgitates a months-old review with a few outlandish placements to get people talking. It’s the music blog equivalent of roll call, and it’s getting stale.

So with that said, The Diamond Platters don’t go to the “best” music of the year, but things that are worth celebrating for some other reason. Albums that triumphed in their category, artists that surprised their audience, or moments that were worth remembering. Hopefully funnier, punchier, and a little more out of the box than your average end of the year listicle, here’s my off-the-cuff (but official) ranking of several hyper-specific categories of my own creation. Enjoy.

Best Acoustic Reimagining

Winner: The Wonder Years - Burst & Decay

After a two year absence and an album that I wasn’t too hot on, the pop-punk gods return with an acoustic EP that reworks some of their best songs into a tender acoustic offering. Taking cues from lead singer Daniel Campbell’s solo outing, Burst & Decay marks the beginning of a new day for the band. The artistic fulfillment of the direction that they’ve been heading in for years now, all packaged up in a lush EP that allows the songwriting to shine as the crown jewel that it always has been. It’s a fantastic “fall album,” and the perfect soundtrack to warm lattes, wool scarves, and crunchy leaves. The album’s final track will leave you ruminating, thoughtful, and pensive, but that’s precisely what the band was going for and always has been.

Runner-up: Jeff Tweedy - Together At Last

The Wilco frontman treats long-time fans to a career-spanning album that culls the best songs from 30-years of music and reworks them beautifully.

Biggest Surprise of the Year

Winner: The Dirty Projectors - The Dirty Projectors

As is a recurring theme with this blog, The Dirty Projectors were a group that I’d never heard of until very recently. When the band’s futuristic self-titled LP dropped at the beginning of the year, I had no context. No knowledge of the band’s dissolution, bad blood, or previous relationships. I went into the record blind, only having the internet’s reaction to go on. Hailing the album as “3017 shit” I hit play on the album not knowing what to expect and emerged blown away. It indeed sounded like future music with crazy autotune, glitchy instrumentals, and bizarre vocal deliveries as far as the eye could see. As I learned more about the group and the backstory I grew to dislike the man behind the music, but that didn’t keep me from loving the unconventional left-field arrangements on this record any less. The Dirty Projectors is unlike anything else I’ve heard in this year or any other.

Runner-up: Ugly God - The Booty Tape

When XXL unveiled their class of 2017 freshmen, I was underwhelmed to say the least. Aside from elevating genuinely deplorable human beings, I hadn’t heard of most of the artists that made the list. Of the ten up-and-coming rappers that the magazine showcased, I came out liking Ugly God the most. His late-summer debut The Booty Tape is a 23-minute banger-filled escapade that combines a conceptual sense of humor with modern trap stylings. It’s what Das Racist would have made if they were around to witness the rise of Lil Yachty. Nothing on the tape overstays its welcome, the production in on-point, and Ugly God is surprisingly proficient throughout. It’s a joy to listen to, and that’s not something I thought I’d ever say about a dude who “only wants to sing about dumb stuff.”

Most Stank Face-Worthy Beat

Winner: Flume “Enough (feat. Pusha T)”

After last year’s immaculately-produced Skin LP, the Australian musician continued his flower imagery in 2017 with two companionEPs alongside various singles and numerous remixes. The high point of this era came at the very beginning of Skin’s second companion EP on the Pusha T-assisted “Enough.” Featuring abrasive blown-out instrumentation, “Enough” is a jaw-clenching and muscle-inflating track that will flood your speakers and blow out your eardrums. Perhaps the ultimate gym song, “Enough” is one of the nastiest beats I’ve ever heard in my life, and Pusha T is used masterfully. This track is a force to be reckoned with.

Runner-up: Kendrick Lamar “DNA.”

After two minutes of scene setting on the album-opening “BLOOD.,” an ignorant Fox News clip gives way to an aggressive Kendrick who begins “DNA.” by shouting “I got, I got, I got, I got / Loyalty, got royalty inside my DNA.” The song sees Lamar coming out of the gates swinging, but midway through the song, just as you think it’s winding down, the beat cuts out and switches. With only one minute of the track left, a countdown begins, and Kendrick starts spazzing out over an allegedly-improvised beat, created after the fact to cater to his flow. Placed over a sample of 1982 Rick James, the beat becomes swells to monstrous proportions, spiraling and booming, taking control of every muscle in your body and eclipsing every pure thought you’ve ever had. It’s one of the best moments in music this year and an absolute marvel to behold.

Best Album From Last Year That Took Until 2017 To Discover

Winner: Pinegrove - Cardinal

Listening to everything in one year is impossible. Sometimes albums and bands slip through the cracks, and in 2016 Pinegrove was one of those for me. The Run For Cover signees have seen an astronomical rise in 2017, becoming indie darlings within the space of a single calendar year. It took me many listens to discover what’s so unique about Pinegrove, but after I realized they weren’t just another Emo band, I began to fall in love with them in early 2017. With fantastically-composed songs like “Aphasia” and “New Friends” the group’s sophomore album is a fantastic jumping off point for a band that’s poised to continue to grow exponentially.

Runner-up: Camp Cope - Camp Cope

Much like Pinegrove, this Melbourne-based female trio also released one of the best emo records of last year. While it took a while to sink its hooks into me, this fall I hit a point where I couldn’t go one day without listening to Camp Cope’s self-titled record. If their second album’s single is anything to go off of, the group may already have one of 2018’s best albums on their hands.

Most Satiating B-Sides Collection

Winner: Angel Olsen - Phases

B-side releases are an interesting beast. Often created primarily to satiate the die-hard fans, it’s rare that an artist’s best work would be on a collection of things cut from a record, but here we are. While Angel Olsen’s My Woman was an easy choice for my Best Of list last year, 2017’s Phases represents a thoughtful punctuation to the end of this chapter. Featuring unreleased cuts from each of her albums, Phases is a perfect sample platter of Olsen’s broad and diverse sounds proving, once again, that she’s one of the most powerful women in indie.

Runner-up: Sufjan Stevens - The Greatest Gift

While Phases gets points for being comprised entirely of unheard material, Sufjan’s Greatest Gift should be commended for striking a near-perfect balance of B-sides, demos, and remixes. The “mixtape” collects outtakes from 2015’s landmark Carrie & Lowell, all of which bear the same brand of soul-destroying, death-ridden meditations and grievances. While Sufjan’s other 2017 album Carrie & Lowell Live represents a maximalist reimagining of the album, Greatest Gift represents the exact inverse: stark, subtle, and haunting renditions of the same tracks. Occasionally even more hard-hitting and impactful than the full album, The Greatest Gift is an incredible contrast to his 2015 record and the perfectly-placed bow atop this career-defining work.

Most Essential “Portland Anthem”

Winner: Drake “Portland”

As a native Oregonian, this year’s music has been a noticeable boon to our city. From local boys done good to songs specifically about our town, the Rose City has been blessed throughout 2017. God knows as Seattle’s Napoleon-complexed younger brother, we’ll take all the confidence we can get. 2017 may have been the year of flutes, but Drake’s “Portland” takes that woodwind-based phenomenon one step further into absurdity by heavily-utilizing the recorder. Assisted by Travis Scott and Quavo, “Portland” is an outlandish and bouncy anthem to life in PDX. While the album cut is fun, seeing the two perform the song live in May was a meta and goosebump-inducing highlight of my year in live music.

Runner-up: Sufjan Stevens “The Hidden River of My Life”

While almost all of Carrie & Lowell’s tracks depict life in Oregon, “The Hidden River of My Life” is a heartfelt (and surprisingly-catchy) song of in-jokes, references, and observations that can only come from having lived life our rainy state.

Reddit Commenter Who Should Be Reviewing Music

Winner: wonderbitch26 on Melodrama

When Lorde’s Melodrama dropped in June popheads across the world rejoiced. As often happens, that joy frequently translates into gay men acting so unbelievably extra that it begins to feel like an infinitely-renewable source of energy that we should be harnessing. In Melodrama’s album release thread on the /r/popheads subreddit, user wonderbitch26 posted an in-depth comment depicting an explicit and erotic tale of sexual dancing and BDSM-esque spanking that also managed to accurately portray what listening to the album is like. It’s a journey worth taking.

Runner-up: plzaskmeaboutloom on More Life

Drake isn’t exactly the internet’s favorite artist. While 2015’s If You’re Reading This represented a career-defining high note, his subsequent releases have been middling at best. In fact, in May I wrote 8,000 words over a series of four posts in which I simply tried to reconcile my love for Drake despite his recent downward trajectory. While I perceived 2017’s More Life as a slight bounce back, not everyone agreed with me, least of all /r/indieheads user plzaskmeaboutloom whose Simon Cowell-esque takedown of the album is meaner (and funnier) than anything I could have ever come up with.

Most Gallery-Ready Cover Art

Winner: Spoon - Hot Thoughts

It’s not often that a band’s ninth record is their best. While Spoon’s Hot Thoughts finds the group reaching a refreshing creative peak, one of the most memorable aspects of the album is actually its gorgeous cover. Created by Portland’s own Christine Messersmith, Hot Thoughts’ album art is a striking depiction of a human skull. Painted in vivid watercolor, you can spot the pattern of the canvas running subtly throughout the background providing the perfect texture and consistency to the entire piece.

Runner-up: Turnover - Good Nature

To be quite honest, I was disappointed with Turnover’s Peripheral Vision follow-up this year. While their 2015 album represented a jaw-dropping emo reinvention, 2017’s Good Nature seems to be content with simply extending those ideas into another release. While I’m not yet sold on the album’s musical contents, one thing is for sure: Good Nature’s cover is absolutely stunning. Featuring a child-like array of jungle animals underneath a bright pink sky, it’s a memorable and eye-catching display that also manages to be an excellent encapsulation of the music that lies behind it.

You Are America

Winner: Cardi B

Out of all the glo ups of 2017, none have been more astronomical than Cardi B. While her monumental hit “Bodak Yellow” tells her story quite well, she has gone from stripper to dethroning Taylor Swift and marrying a Migo all within the space of a year. When she’s not breaking records, her time goes towards being one of the most magnanimous and personable Instagram purveyors on the planet. From iconic raps to inspirational social media videos, Cardi B is a force of nature. In one year she gave us a chart-shattering anthem of empowerment, togetherness, and upward mobility. She’s the embodiment of the American Dream. An endearing story of success. The bitch everyone wants to be. Her story is what this country was founded on.

Runner-up: Perfume Genius

This year has been hard for most of us, but for Mike Hadreas things have been near impossible. His 2017 record No Shapeis the tale of seeking out happiness and holding onto it for dear life. About finding joy and warmth in the face of homophobia, discrimination, hatred, and a world that seems stacked against you. As a society, America should consider ourselves lucky to have humans like Hadreas amongst us. If even a fraction of our future population is comprised of people like him, then we’ll be living in a utopia one day.

Most Impeccable Samples

Winner: Lil Aaron - Soundcloud Singles

While I gushed about Lil Aaron’s music in a post earlier this year, his combination of trap lyrics over 2000’s-era emo samples remains one of the most intoxicating things I’ve heard all year. From “My Own Worst Enemy” to “I Write Sins Not Tragedies,” Aaron’s Soundcloud is a treasure trove of millennial nostalgia. Each song follows a familiar pattern, first luring the listener in with a sense of familiarity, then flipping expectations end over end as he hits you with clever wordplay, catchy melodies, and gut-busting bars. It’s a combination that I never would have thought of in a million years, much less imagined working as well as it does here, but that just goes to show the brilliance of Lil Aaron’s mind.

Runner-up: Jay Z - 4:44

Helmed entirely by No I.D., Jay-Z’s 4:44 represents a return to his earlier sound, once again embracing booming, chopped up soul samples. It’s a match made in heaven, and the samples pair with his voice so well that you begin to wonder why he ever got away from them in the first place. Thanks to this sense of familiarity, the entire album feels both comfortably familiar and brand new at the same time. 4:44 manages to capitalize on Jay’s past success while also standing on its own merits, and that’s all thanks to the record’s strong sample-based foundation.

Worryingly Prolific Output

Winner: Brockhampton

When I say “prolific output,” the distinction here is output that also maintains a high quality. So sorry King Gizz fans, 5 albums in one year is in an achievement, but we both know they’re not all winners. Texas-born, Cali-based BROCKHAMPTON is a group of 20-something 20-somethings who label themselves as a boyband. This year alone they’ve released threealbums, one documentary, a TV Show, and embarked on a nationwide tour. They are young creatives incarnate, and I hope they never stop.

Runner-up: Sufjan Stevens

While not everything he released is from 2017, Sufjan Stevens has given fans more than enough new music this year to tide us over until his next record. From live reimaginings, b-sides, soundtracks, and space-themed originals, Sufjan has given us 3.5 albums of new material this year alone, and all of it’s great. And in the time that it took me to write and edit this he tossed out a Tonya Harding-themed loosie. The hits keep coming, and Sufjan is a true blessing.

Most Iconic Social Feed

Winner: Lorde’s Instagram

One of the few people I have notifications turned on for, Lorde’s Instagram has proven to be a never-ending waterfall of iconic tour pics, beautiful faces, and incredible fashion. In fact, my “saved” section might as well be renamed “Just Lorde” at this point because that’s 95% of all I ever save. She can do no wrong.

Runner-up: There is no runner-up

Best Incongruous Use of Hard Rock

Winner: Feist “A Man Is Not His Song”

I can’t believe I’d so severely misjudged Feist as a pop act. Like most of the world, I was first introduced to her in 2007 with the unparalleled (and unexpected) success of “1234,” and until this year I’d assumed that one breakout single was indicative of the Canadian songstress’ discography, but in reality, I could not have been more wrong. Feist’s Pleasure is an album that rides waves of aggression. Often focusing only on a guitar and Leslie Feist’s voice, it’s one of the rawest and most personal albums I’ve heard all year. A shock comes at the end of “A Man is Not His Song” where the chorus bleeds into a quick 22-second hit of Mastodon’s “High Road.” It sticks out like a sore thumb, yet somehow fits into the song and album so perfectly. This was only one of many revelations that I had while listening to the album, and a moment that truly needs to be heard to be believed.

Runner-up: Brand New “No Control”

While the whole of Brand New’s Science Fiction is pretty hard-rockin’, the Emo trailblazers tend to shift between two styles on the record: sad, slow tracks and aggressive kickass rock. Late-album cut “No Control” lies somewhat between the two, featuring a whiny crooning chorus alongside distorted guitars. Around two and a half minutes in, the song fades out and slowly sputters out into quietness. There’s a brief pause of silence, and then a booming bass, fuzzed-out guitar, and aggressive set of drums are slowly turned up in the mix. Gradually gaining volume as they play, the instruments become louder and louder until the track ends in earnest. While it only hangs on for a minute before fading into the next song, the riff still remains a standout groovy moment on the band’s career-defining final record.

Most Charming Human Being

Winner: Claire Cottrill of Clairo

Claire Cottrill has been making lo-fi bedroom pop songs for years now under the name Clairo, but it wasn’t until this fall that her song “Pretty Girl” blew up. Having accumulated nearly 5 million views at the time of writing, the music video is simple, delightful, and impactful. Created on a day when “her hair was greasy, her skin was bad, and she didn’t want to leave the bed” the video sees Clairo alone in her room singing and dancing along to the simplistic pop track. It’s utterly pleasant and completely disarming, a refreshing breath of air from the world around you. Still a student in college, I can’t wait to see what kind of art Clairo is able to unleash once she’s able to entirely devote herself to creative pursuits.

Runner-up: Alex Luciano of Diet Cig

The high-kicking, dog-loving, outspoken frontwoman to New York-based Diet Cig is a pom-pom-clad ball of energy and fury. With one of the most charismatic social feeds on the internet, Luciano is a treasure of a human being. Someone who’s joy and passion bleeds over onto anyone and everyone that she comes in contact with. A badass of the pop-punk scene.

Best Music Video

Winner: Charli XCX “Boys”

When Charli XCX dropped her video for “Boys” over the summer, the pop culture world collectively went mad. From trying to spot all the celebrity cameos to drooling over everyone displayed in the song, it became an internet-wide obsession. The song itself is a catchy earworm of a pop track, but the video is a sugary pink and instantly-recognizable classic that managed to get the internet talking, which is a feat in and of itself.

Runner-up: Jay-Z - “The Story of OJ”

On the polar opposite end of “Boys,” we have “The Story of OJ” which is a dark black and white video about race relations in America. While all of Jay-Z’s 4:44 is packed with urgent addresses like the one found here, “The Story of OJ” remains the best encapsulation of the album’s wide-ranging topics accompanied by pitch-perfect emulation of Fleischer Studios’ animation.

Best Collaboration

Winner: Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile - Lotta Sea Lice

Maybe 2017 is bringing us together after all. From Atlanta trap stars to long-lost fables, and indie darlings, this year has been host to countless fantastic collaborations. Among dozens of great crossover albums, Lotta Sea Lice from Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile remains the one that sticks in my mind most prominently. Featuring breezy Sunday morning songs, this meeting of indie minds a genuinely pleasant listen that will take your mind off even the harshest realities of the day’s news. Sea Lice offers an escape into a world untouched by misery where continental breakfasts are always available, and it’s easier than ever to let everything go.

Runner-up: 21 Savage, Offset, & Metro Boomin - Without Warning

Filed under “things I didn’t expect to be this great,” Without Warning is a joint effort between three of the biggest names in hip-hop this year. Hot off a string of successfulalbums, this collaborative release finds the two rappers trading verses over some of Metro Boomin’s darkest beats of the year. Sprinkled with a handful of solo tracks and a couple of guest features, there’s just enough variation here to make for an incredibly compelling listen.

Most Fabulous Christmas Bop

Winner: Sia “Santa’s Coming For Us”

The chandelier-swinging popstress returned in 2017 bearing gifts in the form of Everyday Is Christmas, a collection of 10 original holiday songs. Kicking things off, the album’s lead single “Santa’s Coming For Us” is a jubilant and dancy track with just enough of a dark undercurrent to be enjoyed by all. If this song isn’t a Christmas classic next year, I will be severely disappointed in us as a civilization.

Runner-up: Phoebe Bridgers “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”

Introduced on social media with the caption “this emo cover brought to you by the atheist who loves Christmas,” this post-album loosie sees Bridgers reworking one of the best holiday songs in her trademarked remorseful delivery. Accompanied by a lone guitar and bare instrumentation, this is the one Christmas song that’s guaranteed to make you cry at least one or two tears into your hot chocolate.

Best Use of an Englishman Doing Spoken Word Narration

Winner: King Krule “Bermondsey Bosom (Right)”

Framed as the later-album counterpart to “Bermondsey Bosom (Left),” “Bermondsey Bosom (Right)” is a jazzy and fluid track that uses Archy Ivan Marshall’s father to weave a brief but illustrative tale of darkness. Only one minute long, the song is a fantastic and moody diversion in an album that’s brimming over the top with unique ideas.

Runner-up: Feist - “Century”

As much as I like Feist’s Pleasure and her use of Pulps’ Jarvis Cocker on “Century,” this entry gets dinged solely for its mathematical inaccuracies. Next time you get this specific about the length of your dark night of the soul, make sure you fact check beforehand.

Most Anticipated Release of 2018

Finally, let’s end by looking forward at two records that I can’t wait to hear in 2018.

Winner: Snail Mail - Unknown Debut

From Tiny Desk performances to Matador co-signs, it’s been a banner year for Lindsey Jordan. Lovingly documented in my guide to female-fronted music in 2017, I first discovered Snail Mail back in May as they opened for Girlpool in concert. For the last song of their set, the group’s drummer and bassist left the stage, leaving frontwoman Lindsey Jordan alone in the spotlight facing a rapt audience. With just a guitar and a mic she played “Anytime, ” and I was left with my jaw on the floor. It was an awe-inspiring performance, one of my favorites of the year, and a moment that I’ll always remember. To see the traction they’ve gained over the past several months has been nothing short of incredible. Watching Jordan grow has already been rewarding, and her success is incredibly well-deserved. Snail Mail’s 2018 debut LP should be something else.

Runner-up: Shortly - Unknown Debut

Fronted by Alexandria Maniak, Shortly is a reverb-dripping emo act that I’d never heard of until I saw her open for Aaron West live. While Shortly only has two songs currently released, she’s already signed to Triple Crown records with a debut record scheduled for next spring. To say I was blown away by her live performance would be an understatement. Perhaps one of my favorite sets of the entire year, she took the whole room by surprise and had everyone listening with a hush by the time her first song was over. Based on what I saw, she’s currently on track to be the world’s next Julien Baker with sadder music, slower tunes, and more colorful hair. I absolutely cannot wait to see what the future holds for this promising artist.

Poptimism, Complexity, and Musical Stockholm Syndrome: Why Some Albums Grow On Us Over Time and Others Don’t

One of the biggest musical revelations of my life, like many things, came from a podcast. It wasn’t a cool song or the discovery of a new genre, but a conceptual framework that changed how I viewed the entirety of music.

The statement, born of a drunken video game discussion, found one of the hosts outlining his definition of pop music. His parameters weren’t based on the artist’s popularity or the sound of their music, but rather something that you could “hear once and enjoy.” He went on to elaborate “I didn’t even like most of my favorite albums the first time I heard them.”

I’m paraphrasing massively here (because I don’t remember the exact quote, episode, or even year), but this general notion is something that has stuck with me for almost a decade. It’s a bit of a roundabout way to define the pop genre (which I still love and appreciate), but it’s also a slightly snobby framework that looks down on an entire genre while simultaneously glorifying your own taste. So sure it’s problematic, but I also don’t think it’s entirely wrong. Pop music is scientifically designed to be catchy, appealing, and broad, that’s inherent in its DNA.

Still, the more I thought about this framing device, the more I found it to be true. I especially latched onto the host’s claim that most of his favorite albums were “growers” he found himself enjoying more over time. As I searched through my own music library, I realized that nearly all of my favorite albums were ones I’d listened to dozens of times and seemingly got better with each listen. In fact, most of them were records that I thought nothing of or flat-out dismissed at first but eventually grew to love. Oppositely, there were dozens of other albums (pop or otherwise) that I’d listened to once and forgotten almost instantly.

So this theory seemed to hold water, and it’s a filter that I’ve used to view music through for nearly a decade at this point. Recently the idea of albums being “growers” brought up online and spark quite a bit of debate. There’s one side that subscribes to the “grower versus shower” mentality, and another that views this behavior as simply subjecting yourself to an album over and over again until you like it. As with most everything, there’s truth to both sides and neither is truly “right.” So I’ve spent some time mulling over this framework, asking people about it, and gathering opinions from both sides of the fence. I’ve uncovered ten different inter-connected elements that are at play within the “grower” concept. I’m going to outline each point below along with personal examples in hopes that I arrive at some sort of conclusion or thesis statement in the process.

1) Denseness and Complexity

One of the biggest arguments in favor of returning to albums and the concept of “growers” is the idea that some genres/bands/records are so musically complex that they encourage it. Whether it’s lyrical, instrumental, or contextual, sometimes there is so much going on in a record that it’s impossible to take everything in on first listen. Take something like Pet Sounds or The Seer where at any given moment there are dozens of individual components all fighting for the same sonic landscape. You can listen to Pet Sounds once and “get it,” but repeated listens reward the listener by allowing them to slowly discover everything at play in these carefully-layered songs. It’s like crossing things off a list; once you know the lyrics you can pay less attention to the vocalist and focus on a different element of the arrangement. You can keep revising an album and delve deeper each time until you have the full picture; one that was impossible to see the first time you listened.

Meanwhile, pop music is almost always internationally bare. By remaining surface-level (both lyrically and instrumentally) pop songs are easier to grasp at first pass. This allows pop artists to more easily fulfill their primary purpose by transporting a single supremely-catchy hook or chorus into the listener’s brain. As a result, the pop genre as a whole actively avoids things that could “distract” the listener because those experimentations and imperfections are often things that risk detracting from the core message that’s being delivered. That’s not to say pop songs don’t require skill to make, just that they avoid anything too “out there.”

Take Katy Perry’s “California Gurls”: it’s a song that I adore, but I’ll be the first to admit there’s almost no substance to it. The main elements at play here are Katy Perry’s voice and a warm radiating synth line. There’s a guitar and bass laid underneath these primary elements along with a handful of ad-libs from both Mrs. Perry and Mr. Dogg, but those the closest thing to musical depth that this track offers. Much like the music video, “California Gurls” is a synthetic and sugary-sweet pop song that exists to convey a single straight-forward message. As a result, you have a song that’s catchy due in large part to the fact that it’s presented in a barebones way. By being lyrically or musically complex you risk immediacy, so you must present your song in a pointed way so as to embrace catchiness.

So obviously sheer mass and complexity are major factors in this debate. Some of my favorite records are indeed sprawling epics that I’ve essentially bonded with over the course of several years. Records that have drawn me back in time and time again and improved my impression of them in the process by developing a unique and ever-changing relationship with me. A musically-dense record will always be more rewarding to return to because it rewards repeated listens and allows the listener to pick up on something new each time. Meanwhile, a pop track may keep a listener coming back for the earworm factor, but won’t necessarily be as deeply rewarding the same way that a “complex” album would be.

2) The Unknown Factor

Sometimes there’s a mysterious, unknowable X-factor that keeps you coming back to a record. Even an album you don’t like can draw you back, if only to pin down its ephemeral magnetism. This has happened to me in 2012 with Carly Rae Jepsen’s megahit “Call Me Maybe” and (after dozens of listens) I’ve since pinned it down to her unique delivery of the goosebump-inducing line “and.. all the other boys.” Early on in his excellent 150-page CRJ-based manifesto, Max Landis does an excellent job of breaking down the song’s undercurrent of distress and subversion, but the point is in 2012 we, as a society, were collectively drawn to this song for some reason.

Sometimes it’s as simple as a weird vocal quirk, other times it’s an attention-grabbing instrumental moment, or a riff that gets stuck in your brain like jelly. In any case, these unique moments aren’t limited to one genre and their ear-worminess plays a huge part in why we return to a piece of art.

I’ve done this with countless songs. Sometimes I’ll find myself listening to an entire album just to experience a single moment in full effect. Sure I can listen to Hamilton’s “Take a Break” in isolation, but it’s only when I listen to the entire play from the beginning that I fully tear up at the song’s implication within the larger narrative. Moments in the song like hearing Phillip’s rap, coupled with Alexander’s growing distance from his family, and dark multi-leveled foreshadowing, are all made more impactful when the piece is taken in as a whole. We don’t get to pick the little things that draw us in, but this search is one of the most rewarding aspects of music appreciation and discovery.

In a third case (I’ll fully-delve into deeper this December), up until last year, Sufjan Stevens has been an artist that I wanted get into. Thanks to a serendipitous iTunes DJ Shuffle back in high school, I became infatuated with exactly three of his songs and I spent literal years listening only to these three tracks until I was ready to explore the rest of his discography.

The Carly Rae Jepsen example proves that there’s still room for these moments in a pop song. Experimentation and subverting expectations can reward the artist in unexpected ways, but if there’s not something there to make the listener curious enough, then it’s unlikely that they’re going to go back and try to figure it out on their own.

3) Critical Acclaim, Message Boards, and Peer Pressure

Like it or not, critics play a role in dictating taste within culture. I suppose it’s less like “dictating” and more like influencing, but I think we’ve all been swayed by reviews at one time or another. Whether it was being convinced to stay away from a bad movie, or giving a record a spin based purely on universal acclaim, critics have an undeniable impact on our cultural landscape.

I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. At worst it will make you more hesitant, and at best you might give something a chance that you never would have known about otherwise. I did this with Kanye West in 2010 following the release of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, after its perfect Pitchfork score and placement as their best album of 2010. Aside from Eminem, I’d never really listened to any hip-hop in earnest, but this level of praise couldn’t be a coincidence, right? I downloaded the album, gave it a reluctant spin, and came away from it mostly underwhelmed.

As a side note (before I get called out) it’s worth noting that I didn’t have any context for My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy at the time. I had no idea about Kanye’s background, or what the album represented within his career. I also had no real appreciation for the record’s layers upon first listen (circling back to Point #1) but I went on to rediscover and genuinely love it in 2016. The point is I picked up this album solely because of critics.

Continuing the Kanye West anecdotes; I’ve already written about how the internet’s reaction to the release of Yeezus spurred me to give the album a shot. I still didn’t get him. For whatever reason, I gave the album another listen a couple months after its release and suddenly everything clicked. I loved Yeezus and soon found myself venturing back through Kanye’s discography from the beginning. I’d like to think that I came to love Kanye of my own free will, but the reason I gave him a chance in the first place (and the second place) is because of other people. Whether it was a “reputable” journalistic source like Pitchfork, or simply witnessing the unbridled joy of hip-hop heads on an internet message board, I could tell I was missing out on something, and that kept me open.

4) Personal Context, The Language of Genres, and The Passage of Time

After “discovering” Kanye West in 2013, he was the sole hip-hop artist I listened to for some time. I would casually browse forums and keep up on large-scale movements within the genre, but it wasn’t until years later that I would find myself delving deeper into the contemporary rap scene. By the end of 2015, I was listening to everything from leaned-out trap, conceptual double albums, absurdist mixtapes and even Drake. Soon I found myself listening to goofier (then) lesser-known acts like Lil Yachty, Lil Uzi Vert, and Desiigner. I can guarantee you that I never would have latched onto any of those guys if it wasn’t for Kanye breaking down my personal barriers and dismantling my hip-hop-related hangups. It took time for me to go from actively disliking hip-hop to embracing it wholeheartedly, and that’s a journey that can only happen over time.

While your personal journey within individual genres matters, there are also things like general knowledge and maturity at play too. Once I got out of that shitty high school ‘everything that’s popular sucks’ punk mentality I opened myself up to dozens of new artistic directions. I gained a new appreciation for things I’d previously despised, and I began to understand why things like MBDTF were important. It’s a combination of open-mindedness and cultural awareness that comes with age, and one that I hope never slows as I get older.

Maturity is an uncontrollable factor that’s hard to pin down, and impossible to quantify. I’ve experienced “musical maturity” as recently as this year with the Fleet Foxes. They were a member of my generation’s pivotal “indie folk movement” and I consider them one of my gateway groups, but despite their importance, I’d never really considered myself a fan. And it’s not for lack of trying, I own all their albums, gave them multiple chances throughout high school and college, but I had always found them interminably boring. I didn’t see what other people saw in them… until this year. With the multi-month build-up to 2017’s Crack-Up, I found myself giving into the hype and giving their older albums another shot for the first time in years. To my surprise, after a handful of half-passive listens I really liked everything I heard. All three of their previous releases grew on me over the course of several weeks, and I became a fan like that. I can still see why I found them boring in high school, but I think the real reason is a lack of maturity. I now have the patience and appreciation for the kind of careful, measured indie folk they’re making, and that openness has rewarded me with hours of enjoyment.  

Circling back to Point #1: it’s often hard to fully grasp an album on first listen, and sometimes a record’s complexity doesn’t allow it to truly grab ahold of you until years down the line. In a way, this is also a point against pop music since so much of it “of the moment” it tends to age worse. It’s a genre that’s by nature the most tapped into pop culture, and as a result, it’s harder to go back and enjoy older songs when A) you’ve heard them thousands of times, and B) there’s more recent stuff that’s more tapped into the current sound. It feels like there’s more of an “expiration” to pop music which means it’s not necessarily as rewarding to venture back to.

5) Streaming, Permanence, and Getting Your Money’s Worth

A semi-recent extra-musical factor at play in this discussion has to do with how we consume music. Up until about a decade ago the process was 1) hear a song 2) go buy the album at the store 3) listen to the album. With the rise of iTunes, YouTube, and more recently, digital streaming platforms the entire process has become flattened. A song can come to mind, and we can pull it up on our phones within 30 seconds. You can hear a song at a bar, Shazam it, and add it to your digital collection within an instant.

As a result of this, albums as a concept have been diminished in both stature and importance. You have people like Chance The Rapper releasing retail mixtapes, Kanye West updating his albums after release, and Drake releasing commercial playlists. But on top of these (somewhat arbitrary) distinctions, there’s a layer of increasingly-pervasive accessibility. You can hear about an artist and have their discography at your fingertips within seconds. You can read about a new release and be streaming it by the time that it takes you to finish this sentence. That freedom has forever changed how we consume music. Comparing this on-demand accessibility with the “old ways” of going to a store and buying a physical record, it’s easy to see how the times have changed.

As a result of this shift, people are less committed to albums. If you don’t like an album you can play another just as quickly. We can jump ship with no loss at all. We’re not connected to the record, so it’s easy to abandon.

Funny enough, with the rise of streaming we’ve seen a near-direct correlation with the rise in the popularity of vinyl as it’s on track to be a billion-dollar industry this year. These are people that want and miss that physical connection with their records. There’s an undeniable difference between listening to an album on Spotify and hearing it come out of your vinyl player at home. “Warmth” and all that bullshit aside, this is an example of the format influencing our listening habits. If you’re using Spotify and don’t like an album, you can easily stop streaming and jump to any of the millions of readily-available alternatives.

Most importantly, when streaming, there’s also no reason to “justify” your purchase because we haven’t dropped $20+ on a piece of physical media. If you bought a record and didn’t like you’d damn sure try to listen to it more than a few times because you invested in it, goddammit!

There’s also a pattern of familiarity at play too. Every time you open Spotify you’re given the choice between something new and something that you already like. If you gave an album a shot and didn’t like it, you’re now given a choice between that and something you know you already like. So why would you ever opt for the thing you don’t like?

Reddit user nohoperadio explains this phenomenon and the wealth of choices that we have in the modern music landscape:

“Those pragmatic constraints on our listening habits don’t exist, and we have to make conscious decisions about how much time we want to devote to exploring new stuff and how much time we want to devote to digging deeper into stuff we’ve already heard, but every time you do one of those you have this anxious feeling like maybe you should be doing the other. It’s only in this new context that it’s possible to worry that you’re listening wrong.”

It really is an interesting psychological door that’s opened with our newfound technological access, and analysis paralysis aside, it explains why some songs draw listeners back by the millions. Drake’s “One Dance” is the most streamed Spotify song of all time with 1,330 million plays. It’s a good song, but not that good. It’s an example of a song achieving a balance of accessibility and pervasiveness until it becomes habitual and self-reinforcing. That’s something that only could have happened in the streaming world.

6) Fandom

Up until now, we’ve mostly been talking about this framework within the context of “new” albums, but what about when you already have context? What about a non-accessible release from your favorite artist?

This has happened to me with many albums over the years. I wrote a 7,000-word four-part essay that was mostly just me grappling with my own disappointment of Drake and Travis Scott’s 2016 releases. For the sake of talking about something new: The Wonder Years are one of my all-time favorite bands. I’ve written a loving review of their second album, and I plan on doing the same thing with their third and fourth releases as well. After a trio of impactful, nearly-perfect pop-punk records, the band released their fifth album No Closer to Heaven on September 4th of 2015. While it’s not an “inaccessible” record, it’s easily my least favorite from the band and a far cry from their previous heart-on-sleeve realist pop-punk. It took me months of listening to the album to fully-realize my disappointment, and even longer to figure out why. I’m still not sure I can accurately explain why Heaven doesn’t gel with me, but that’s not what this post is for. The point is I’ve subjected myself to this album dozens of times racking up nearly 700 plays at the time of this writing. In fact, it’s my 19th most-listened-to album of all time according to Last.fm, and that’s for an album that I don’t even enjoy that much!

I was driven to this album partly by my frustration and confusion, but also my love of the band. I’ve enjoyed literally every other piece of music they’ve ever recorded, what made this one so different? I guess 700 plays isn’t something you’d afford even the most promising album, but this is an example of the listener’s history influencing their own behavior and desire to love an album. It’s trying to make an album into a “grower” when it may never be one in the first place. That leads nicely into #7…

7) Instant Gratification, Uncertainty Tolerance, and “Forcing It”

The most common argument I see against the concept of albums as growers is the idea that the listener is “forcing it.” This is problematic mainly because everyone’s definition of “forcing it” is different. Some people have a specific number in mind ‘if you listen to an album three times and don’t like it, then you’re forcing yourself’ others base it on feeling ‘if you’re despising every second of an album, then just turn it off. Otherwise, you’re forcing it.’

The idea is you force yourself to like something out of pure habit or by subjecting yourself to it over and over again, eventually becoming hostage to something that you didn’t really like in the first place. To me, this is the meatiest discussion point here because it’s such a multifaceted issue. I’ve already discussed this concept within the context of Drake’s Views, but to briefly recap: I loved his 2015 album If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late, and he had a killer summer with What A Time To Be Alive and a high-profile rap beef. I was beyond hyped for his next release in 2016 but came out of my first listen incredibly disappointed. Over time I grew to like most of the songs, presumably from sheer repetition, but I still recognize it as an album that isn’t good on an objective artistic level. So is this forcing it? I never hated any of those listens, I just grew to like the album more after time had passed, but I still don’t think it’s good.

I’ve done the same thing this year with Father John Misty’s Pure Comedy. After an impeccable 2015 release and a metamonths-longinterview-ladenlead-up to the record’s release in April I, again, emerged from my first listen disappointed. I have come to enjoy the album more over time, especially after giving myself a break from it and seeing some of the songs performed live. So maybe these two cases just have to do with unrealistic built-up expectations and already being a fan (Point #6) but no matter how you look at it, I wanted to like these albums and kept subjecting myself to them.

At any rate, the biggest flaw with this argument is that everyone’s definition of “forcing it” is different. Unless someone’s making you listen at gunpoint, there is no force. You can stop at any time and you shouldn’t feel pressure to like something just because. But I fully recognize someone could see my listening history with Drake’s Views and say “my god, why would you listen to an album you’re lukewarm on that many times? That’s torture!” but I guess what’s torture for some is simply passive listening for another.

For a more scientific perspective, this youtube video details some of the crazy behind-the-scenes factors at play in making pop music particularly pervasive. Everything from the radio to Urban Outfitters to fucking memes spread music and have the ability to make something exponentially more popular. This circles back to “forcing it” because you may have no power in these cases. God knows after years of the same retail job I grew to hate some songs that were otherwise great just from sheer repetition. It would make sense that this then becomes “forcing it” since you have no power, but sometimes even that can circle back to genuine love if you build enough positive associations over time. I may not like “Hotline Bling” as a song, but god knows I’ve upvoted enough memes featuring the turtleneck-clad Drake that I enjoy something about it.

Furthering the pseudo-scientifical discussion of articles I that don’t have the intelligence to write of research: this blog (which cites this study) discusses “addiction economy” and explores the profiles of “explorers” and “exploiters.” The primary difference between the two groups is their propensity for either delayed or instant gratification. The study explores the idea that technology has accelerated this process which (in a music context) circles back to Point #5 of streaming’s role in our listening habits. Why bother trying to listen to something “difficult” or “weird” when you can have the instant hit of euphoria that comes with a bouncy non-offensive Taylor Swift song?

I really think this one comes down to what you’re in the mood for. If you have the attention, time, and necessary background, why not explore something rich that you may love? But if you just want something quick and easy, just put on the Spotify Top 50 for some background noise. It becomes the musical equivalent of a hearty homecooked meal versus a big, greasy fast food burger. One may be objectively “better,” but it’s not always right for the situation.

8) Expectations and The Initial Approach

Another factor that exists outside of the music itself is the listener’s initial approach. If you go into any art with a preconceived notion you’ll either be surprised by the outcome or have your beliefs confirmed. If you go to a shitty movie expecting it to be shitty, you’ll emerge thinking “well duh.” The inverse of this could also be true (a shitty movie turning out good, etc.), but the real discussion here has to do with the viewer’s initial expectation.

I do think with music it’s rare that you’ll do a complete 180 in either direction. The most likely case of a “grower” is generally a record that you go into not knowing anything about and then some unknown factor (Point #2) keeps bringing you back. It’s also true that you could dislike and album and over time come out liking it (as I did with Views). And while it’s a rare occurrence, I suppose an album could also be a “shrinker” that you love on first listen, but grow to dislike more and more.

Circling back to genres, I think pop music tends to be a shrinker more often than not. It’s something that’s (by nature) immediately accessible but slowly drives you mad with each repeated listen like a screw tightening into your skull. We’ve all been there (especially anyone with a retail job) but I can’t think of a single occurrence where I’ve done that to myself of my own free will. Oppositely, I know people that only interact with music by listening to songs until they’re absolutely sick of them. That’s not how I prefer to interact with art mainly because I feel like there’s only so much time in the day and so many other things to listen to, why force that upon yourself?

I think that the listener’s starting point is a huge concept. Reddit user InSearchOfGoodPun outlines his thoughts on the initial approach and the impact of time on your listening experience:

“My personal opinion is that if you listen to almost anything enough times with a receptive attitude, you will start to appreciate it. It might not become one of your favorites, but you’ll like it for what it is. In any case, at the end of the day, you like what you like.”

The key phrase here is receptive attitude. If you aren’t listening with a receptive attitude, then you’re forcing yourself. Then you’re just making it unenjoyable no matter what. I think this is one of the biggest points in this whole write-up and a key indicator of who you are as a consumer of art. It’s all about being receptive regardless of your starting point.

9) The Language of Genres

Jumping back to Kanye: it was a long and winding road filled with lots of resistance, but despite my own hangups, I now consider myself a hip-hop head. I listen to the genre constantly, I’m up on the “newcomers” and I find myself devoting an absurd amount of time to researching the realm’s happenings each day. I wouldn’t have cared that much without Kanye, and I wouldn’t have discovered half of the shit that I currently love without Yeezus breaking those barriers down.

I’ve spent this entire time talking about albums as “growers,” but it’s also possible that this concept could be applied to entire genres too. I mean, after all, a genre really is like a language you have to learn, and I was fortunate enough to have Kanye as my teacher. Through his discography, I learned about the genre’s history, who its major players are, as well as the language, cadence, and frameworks that it uses. In another sense, it’s almost like “building up your tolerance” to something you previously didn’t understand or couldn’t grasp.

I’ve detailed my own history wading into genres like hip-hop and indie, but it makes sense that this personal context would impact how we would interact with albums through the broader umbrella of their genre. I wouldn’t have understood hip-hop if I jumped straight to Migos. Everyone has a starting point for their musical taste, and it spreads outward from there. Pop music is an easily-accessible taste, but most other genres take a little bit more of an adjustment to get used to. Certain albums or genres are just objectively less-accessible, and harder to get into as a result.

In fact, it could easily be argued that exploring a genre could be the biggest decider on whether an album is a “grower” or not. Contextualizing a record within a larger space can help the listener and understanding it better and appreciate it more. Listening to one album multiple times might be the exact opposite of the correct approach, because while the listener may not like it, they may find something musically adjacent that’s more up their alley.

10) Songs Versus Albums

For the sake of furthering the discussion outside of albums, it’s also worth zooming down to a micro level to look at individual songs. While I tend to listen (and think of things) in terms of albums, it’s undeniable that songs are the main component at play. In fact, a single song is probably the reason for you checking an album out in the first place. Thinking “hey I like this one thing, maybe I should check out the rest” is how I’ve discovered most of the music in my library.

But this same framework of “growers” can easily be applied to songs too. When listening to an album the first time, occasionally only individual songs will jump out at you right away. I love Lost in the Dream by The War on Drugs, but for the first dozen or so times I played the album, the only song I could remember was the opener “Under the Pressure.” That song had a memorable chorus, a catchy riff, and a driving rhythm. It alone is the sole reason I kept coming back to the record, but each time I put “Under the Pressure” on I’d find myself thinking ‘ah, I’ll just let the rest of the album play.’ Eventually, the rest of the record revealed itself to me and individual songs emerged from what was once an amorphous blob of sun-drenched heartland rock.

I did the exact same thing with Young Thug’s breakthrough 2015 album Barter 6. I’d already had a passing interest in Thug thanks to his previous collaborative efforts with Rich Homie Quan, so I gave Barter a semi-attentive spin and left underwhelmed. After a glowing Pitchfork review (Point #3) I gave the album another shot but couldn’t find myself getting past the first track. In a good way. I kept relistening to the album opener “Constantly Hating” and every time I tried to move onto something else, this transfixing opener drew me back in. Soon Barter 6’s second track grabbed me just as hard. Then the third. Then a single. Then a late album track. Eventually, I was listening to the whole thing front-to-back and enjoying every song. Individual songs are a viable path to an album becoming a grower, and while I don’t like digesting albums piecemeal, sometimes that approach can allow an album to creep up on you over time.

Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, there’s a difference between feeling lukewarm on an album then giving it a few more chances and hating an album but feeling like you’re obligated to listen because you “should” like it. Usually, there’s some redeeming quality that brings you back, God knows there’s plenty of albums I’ve heard once then forgotten forever.

Patience is key, and that receptivity can lead to an album becoming better over time. With pop music, I feel like there’s an individual tipping point that everyone hits where you go from fully-embracing a song to actively combatting it. We don’t all have the time or patience to devote ourselves to “difficult” albums, so sometimes the road less traveled is less appealing.

After writing all of this, I’ve come to the conclusion that my initial theory is a flawed. Like many things, it’s not universal. There’s no one “right” answer or perfect framework that applies to all of music. This theory still works on a case-by-case basis, but there’s nuance to every genre, artist, and song, and this broadness makes it hard to view music through such a broad lens.

If anything, a big takeaway is that there’s no one “better” genre, just different fits for different people. With all these possible elements at play, it’s easier to see how someone could gravitate towards one easier genre meanwhile a different person has cut their teeth in a different genre and has a more developed understanding of its intricacies.

And whether you look at it as “a grower” that gets better over time or a “shrinker” that driver you more insane with each listen, there is a point at which you are “forcing it” but (again) that varies from person to person. The only absolute is that there are no absolutes.

The truly compelling part of music is the way that you interact with it. What you bring to the experience and how you interpret the artist’s work. Whether it’s going track-by-track or listening front-to-back, or listening to one single song until you’re sick of it. Music is special because of what we project onto it. The memories we make around it.

It’s obviously incorrect to view all pop music as shallow, just as it’s incorrect to view all rock as deep, or all rap as thuggish. Everything is on a spectrum, and your perspective within the genre, the artist, your life, and the world all come into play when listening.

I don’t think there’s any defined “conclusion” to arrive at, just many different elements to keep track of. These frameworks can help explain why I like A while you like B. The absolute most important thing to take away from this is to keep an open and receptive mind.

I’ve recently come to the realization that my dream job, the one thing I really want to do, is to share things that I love with other people. To spread art, joy, and love in hopes that someone else is affected by these things the same way that I am.

That requires an objective mind, but you still won’t ever like everything. And that’s okay. You shouldn’t have to.

I think sharing things and spreading love is productive for the world.

It’s the most positive impact we can make on the world around us.

It’s spreading beauty.

Both being able to see why someone likes something and being able to share your own experience. It’s the one universal. The human experience. We all have unique perspectives, thoughts, and lives. Sometimes sharing is the only thing we can do.

Art is a bonding agent.

What we add to it is the special part.

Remain open.

Share your love.

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Additional Reading and Citations

1. As the Roots Undo by Circle Takes the Square

2. Doing Good in the Addiction Economy

3. Internet Explorers (Not Exploiters)

4. Is Pop Music Holding You Hostage?

5. The Mozart-like Complexity of Carly Rae Jepsen’s Biggest Hits

6. Reddit Indieheads Discussion Thread

7. A Scar No One Else Can See

8. The Secret Science of Pop

9. Taster’s Choice: Let’s Talk About Love

In Defense of DJ Khaled

I’m not one to defend mediocrity. Some things are just aggressively “alright” and DJ Khaled tends to be one of them. He’s not an artist in the traditional sense of the word, in fact putting him in a box is actually kind of hard. He’s a Snapchat-famous DJ, record producer, and meme machine with just a few more catchphrases your average Saturday morning cartoon character. While his musical contributions tend to be nothing more than shouting his own catchphrases in between (or directly over) a rapper’s bars, he also serves an important role as a Nick Fury-like assembler of talents.

In the wake of this year’s Grateful, I’ve found myself reflecting on DJ Khaled’s prior release with a surprising amount of fondness. While I won’t defend mediocrity on an artistic level, that’s not to say there isn’t a time and a place for it. The real problem is most DJ Khaled albums are the musical equivalent of throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks. Sometimes you’ll get a Drake-bolstered summer anthem, or strike gold with an unexpected artist pairing. But more often than not you’ll end up with a by-the-numbers hip-hop track that feels market tested as fuck and sounds like six different people all sending verses to each other via email over the course of months.

And I can’t tell if it’s nostalgia for summer 2016 or genuine appreciation, but Khaled’s skill as a musical host has never been more on a more impressive display than 2016’s Major Key. In fact, I’d go as far as to say it’s a flawless album. Now before you close the tab let me explain myself. I don’t mean flawless in that it stacks up to The Beatles or anything, I mean that every track on it is great and serves a different purpose.

While I usually hate track-by-tracks, I think Major Key is an album that would benefit from this type of dissection. There is honestly an impressive number of sounds being explored on this album. The collaborations feel fresh, and Khaled’s typically-shoehorned catchphrases actually fit into the album unobtrusively. It’s not high art, but it’s an incredibly-varied selection of songs that ends up feeling more like a curated summer playlist than a record by one man.

I guess that’s a point against the album since I’m basically saying Major Key is good because it doesn’t feel like a “DJ Khaled album,” but his skill here wrangling the number of artists and sounds is worth writing about. He’s a host and curator, and this album is the most consistent of his career. It’s commendable, especially when contrasted with the uneven follow-up we just received.

1) I Got the Keys (feat. Jay Z and Future)

Major Key begins with a fittingly-named banger that allows Jay-Z to don his jewelry and flex for the world once again. The track sees Future relegated to the song’s chorus while Jay-Z comes in with two of the best verses we’ve heard from him in years. While the recent release of 4:44 signals a more grown-up and fatherly shift in Jay’s sound and topics, it’s nice to have one (possibly final) send-off to Big Pimpin’-era Hov. Yes the chorus is repetitive, but 2016 was host to a rash of intentionally-repetitiveFuture-led choruses (including a second one later on this very album). I like that these songs are using Future for his unique textured voice as opposed to his tired lean-soaked raps. As a whole, the song has a hypnotic siren-like beat that Jay rides nicely and it ends up serving as a perfect energetic opener.

2) For Free (feat. Drake)

A Drake feature is practically a tradition on DJ Khaled albums at this point. In addition to the pair’s storied history, a Drake feature almost guarantees a song’s commercial success and a nomination for the elusive “Song of the Summer” title. Released as Major Key’s first single, the song did numbers but failed reach the pervasiveness needed to truly become the official song of the summer (despite Khaled’s claims on the song’s outro.) It’s still a nice bouncy Drake track that’s pool-party-ready, and furthered Drake’s exploration of the dancehall-esque sound.

3) Nas Album Done (feat. Nas)

On “Nas Album Done” Nas himself commandeers an entire track simply to spit bars for three minutes straight. With no chorus, and minimal intrusion from Khaled, this is a song of pure hip-hop proficiency that addresses the political climate of mid-2016. The title refers to Nas’ (still-unreleased) forthcoming album which will be his first in over five years. As such, this Fugees-sampling track serves as an appetizer for the bars to come on his next record.

4) Holy Key (feat. Kendrick Lamar, Big Sean, and Betty Wright)

Easily the track I’ve listened to most off of the album, “Holy Key” is a fast-moving and hard-hitting pump-up jam. The song that calls to mind Sean and Kendrick’s previous collaboration, the world-concerning “Control” which was a pivotal moment for the hip-hop scene as a whole. While “Holy Key” doesn’t quite recapture the fire of “Control” (a lot of time has passed since 2013) it does manage to capture a particularly-strong Big Sean verse and one of the most ferocious features of Kendrick’s career.  

5) Jermaine’s Interlude (feat. J. Cole)

After the abject fire of “Holy Key” things slow down a bit for a bit of a breather on the J. Cole-helmed “Jermaine’s Interlude.” It provides some much-needed pathos after the blitz of hyper-proficient verses on the first few tracks of the album. The interlude throws bone to the very specific yet ravenous fan base that J. Cole has cultivated since his breakthrough 2014 Forest Hills Drive. The mellowed-out track injects more of a “conscious” sound into Major Key that breaks up the album’s themes and showcases a surprising amount of well-articulated topics for an interlude.

6) Ima Be Alright (feat. Bryson Tiller and Future)

In the album’s most flaccid track Future and Bryson Tiller trade verses over a dreamy beat that continues the slower late night vibes of the last track. The song showcases a particularly-animated Future verse that’s sandwiched in between two remorseful Tiller hooks that discuss the pratfalls of fame. It’s capped off with a verse from Tiller and a surprisingly funny outro by Khaled.

7) Do You Mind (feat. Nicki Minaj, Chris Brown, August Alsina, Jeremih, Future, and Rick Ross)

From there the album continues its stretch of slower tracks with the overtly-sexy “Do You Mind.” The track combines Chris Brown and August Alsina vocals to create an earworm of a chorus that Alsina then commandeers for a short verse. From there the two throw to Jeremiah who adds a third layer of R&B sexiness before another chorus swaggers in. The track takes a hard turn as Future and Rick Ross come in with two short verses, but Nicki caps it all off with an incredibly-sung bridge right before the song’s end. It’s a radio-ready R&B track that sounds different than anything else on the album. With a packed guest list, this is a song “for the ladies” and it does its job well.

8) Pick These Hoes Apart (feat. Kodak Black, Jeezy, and French Montana)

As you would expect from a song with this title, “Pick These Hoes Apart” represents a shift back towards full-on hip-hop within the album. Featuring some of the most objectively-disgusting lines on the entire record, the song still gets some points for bringing together such a disparate group of rappers and shining a light on Kodak Black right as he was blowing up. It shows a lot of foresight on Khaled’s part. It’s also worth noting that the track features a great verse from French Montana who I’ve never particularly cared for, but he manages to utilize his brand of slurred half-sung rap here on a beat that sounds like it was made for him.

9) Fuck Up the Club (feat. Future, Rick Ross, YG, and Yo Gotti)

The album’s hip-hop mode is decidedly back in full swing on “Fuck Up the Club” which features the album’s second supremely-repetitive Future hook, a roster of legit street rappers, and an absolute banger of a beat. The track sees YG and Yo Gotti at the height of their powers after their high-profile releases of Still Brazy and “Champions” respectively. Everyone comes in with heat, and the track’s beat is relentless with little breathing room for anything besides explosive forward momentum.

10) Work for It (feat. Big Sean, Gucci Mane, and 2 Chainz)

Arguably one of the most star-studded tracks on the album, “Work for It” subverts expectations by being a bit of a slower track that finds Big Sean at the helm. It really does telegraph the sound on Sean’s upcoming I Decided. but remains a track that fits its other guests suitably. It’s apparent that the recently-released Gucci and always-humorous Titti Boi were both in “creation mode” on this track amidst a slew of their own 2016 releases. It may not change the Big Sean hater’s minds, but it’s a left turn that I didn’t see when first listening to the album.

11) Don’t Ever Play Yourself (feat. Jadakiss, Fabolous, Fat Joe, Busta Rhymes, and Kent Jones)

With a lineup of guests who are all in their 40’s (Kent Jones notwithstanding) I see “Don’t Ever Play Yourself” as the dedicated “oldhead” song on the album. Reminiscent of Compton’s “Loose Cannons,” or “One Shot One Kill” this track sounds like a different generation of rappers who all decided to hop on a track with one thing to prove: that they’re far from “too old this shit.” It’s apparent why these rappers have all stuck around, they all have different voices and at this point, they’ve honed their craft enough to make it all look effortless.

12) Tourist (feat. Travis Scott and Lil Wayne)

“Tourist” had been floating around the internet for about a year at this point as a semi-unfinished Travis Scott solo song. In its appearance on Major Key, we hear a remastered version with a surprise Lil Wayne feature added on and (luckily) little-to-no Khaled yelling. It’s a hazy track that retains the signature Travis Scott sound while echoing 3500’s drowsy unwinding instrumental.

13) Forgive Me Father (feat. Meghan Trainor, Wiz Khalifa, and Wale)

When Major Key’s tracklist was officially released a few weeks before the album’s drop, I remember one thing concretely: the internet’s reaction to this song’s feature list. First off: what a weird collection of people. Second: Wiz is washed. Third: Meghan Trainor? The “All About That Bass” chick? I don’t know why, but I’d like to pat myself on the back for believing that this song wouldn’t be as bad as everyone was expecting it to be. I may just love being a contradictory fuck, and maybe it’s just because I went in with low expectations, but I find “Forgive Me Father” a corny, yet inspirational song that isn’t offensive in the least.

14) Progress

The last song on Major Key sees Khaled ceding Major Key to Jamaican singer Mavado. This is actually the second time this handoff has happened (with the third instance occurring on 2017’s Grateful) perhaps signaling a new inner-album tradition. It’s a tropical island song that calls to mind flashes of Khaled’s snapchat stories watering and talking to his flowers in a sunny yard. It’s a “full circle” song about progress that serves as the perfect conclusion to the album by encapsulating everything we’ve heard up until that point.

Major Key has a little bit of everything. Like most DJ Khaled records you could cherry pick single songs for the right mood, but it also holds together surprisingly well as an album. There’s no “journey” or “resolution” but you could easily sit down and listen to all 58 minutes of this and enjoy yourself. It’s a great summer album and has enough variation to keep you wondering (or excited for) what’s coming next. It’s a “playlist” before Drake did the same thing a year later. That’s not to say all DJ Khaled albums aren’t playlists (because they’re all like this) but Major Key is the first time it crystallized into something substantive that was fully enjoyable from beginning to end.  

In contrast, 2017’s Grateful is overly-long (21 tracks and almost 90 minutes) and released in direct contrast to Calvin Harris’ polished Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1 which did the “DJ Khaled thing” in a better, more pointed way. But all this said I do believe Major Key to be a legitimately great hip-hop album that stands on its own. I’m honestly in shock I was able to write 1,000+ words about it, and I guess that endorsement speaks for itself more than my praise ever can.

It’s an interesting dichotomy because Grateful featured songs like “I’m The One” and “Wild Thoughts” which were unequivocally more successful than anything off of Major Key. It ties back to the discussion I carried out earlier this month about the crossroads between commercial success and artistic fulfillment. Major Key was no flop, but by all accounts Grateful is shaping up to be a technically more successful album. I think that Major Key stands on its own better on an artistic level, but there’s certainly a difference between the two records.

“I’m the One” has been an earworm (and chart-topper) since its release as a single in late April, I’ll give it that. But I’d still pick Major Key over it, even if it doesn’t have the “single power” of Grateful. And (to circle back to the original topic) I’m not saying Major Key is high art. This shit isn’t Abbey Road, It’s not Darkside, it’s not even Cat Scratch Fever. For as much as I wrote above, I still think this album is only one step above mediocrity on an artistic level. It will probably age horribly in a few years, it has some questionable lyrics, and as a whole, it’s just a good collection of tracks rather than a compelling vision carried out by one creative force.

The point is, even with all those things weighing it down, it’s great at what it needs to be. Grateful isn’t as good as what it needed to be (which was the same thing as Major Key), but in the end, they both pale in comparison to albums that were crafted with time, care, and artistry. I’m not saying DJ Khaled isn’t those things, I’m just saying Major Key succeeds in every goal that it sets out to do. It doesn’t aim high, so it shouldn’t be judged on that level. Major Key is a stellar collection of incredibly-varied tracks that bring together a wide roster of hip-hop artists large and small. No two tracks sound alike, DJ Khaled plays an excellent role as artistic curator, and everything comes together nicely. On that scale, it’s as far from mediocrity as you can get.