February 2018: Album Review Roundup

Swim Into The Sound is back with another Monthly Roundup! I’m honestly not sure how long I’ll be able to stay this “up” on new music, but so far I’ve been having a good time keeping track of new releases and compiling my thoughts.

As great as January was, February was even better, both in terms of quantity and quality, so I’ll waste no time in jumping into it. Here are some of the best/most notable releases from February of 2018.

Cameron Boucher & Field Medic - Split

Released on Valentine’s Day, this lovely and heartfelt split features two songs from Kevin Sullivan of Field Medic and two from Cameron Boucher of Sorority Noise. With both artists coming off wildly-successful2017 releases, this split seems to be a low-key acoustic victory lap of sorts from two of emo folk’s current reigning champs. Oh, and all of the album’s proceeds go to Covenant House, so on top of the great tunes, these two dudes are also class acts.

Hovvdy - Cranberry

Easily my biggest surprise of the month, Hovvdy is a band I’d never heard of until I sat down to listen to this record. When I hit play, I instantly fell in love with the warm, hazy, nostalgic sound of Cranberry, and with each subsequent listen a different track has jumped out at me and grabbed my attention. Both spiritually and stylistically, this album reminds me of Turnover’s Peripheral Vision from 2015. Both albums hooked me on first listen and bear the same fuzzy spaced-out sense of nostalgia. While Turnover’s record is more pop-punk influenced, Cranberry finds itself taking cues from bedroom indie, Americana, and even country at times, but both play out like a distant memory that slowly grows to shroud the listener in their own nostalgia.

MGMT - Little Dark Age

MGMT have had a long and storied history since their humble college-based beginnings in 2002. Continually straddling the line between synthpop, psychedelia, alternative, and indie, their 2018 record Little Dark Age finally seems to have attained the perfect balance of every one of their styles. While nothing may ever be as iconic as the breakthrough “Kids” or instantly-recognizable as “Electric Feel,” this album strives for (and achieves) something much different. From the opening narration-based exercise of “She Works Out Too Much” to the far-off echoes of “Hand It Over,” every move on Little Dark Age seems more self-assured than ever. A compact, addictive, and beautifully-crafted comeback.

Turnstile - Time & Space

Hardcore will never die, and bands like Turnstile are here to prove that single-handedly. Over the course of 25 minutes, the Baltimore group runs the listener through an obstacle course of unbridled ferocity, pure aggression, and raw power. You’ll experience throat-shredding vocals, chest-pounding riffs, and thunderous drums, eventually to be spat out on the other side invigorated and aggressive. Proof that there’s beauty in brevity, the forceful grouping of songs off Time & Space rarely cross the two-minute mark. Turnstyle doesn’t seem to be interested in wasting a second of the listener’s time or expending one ounce of wasted energy.

Various Artists - Black Panther: The Album

Unlike Drake’s More Life, the Kendrick Lamar/Top Dawg-helmed Black Panther album feels more like a playlist than a record. With a (loose) central theme, a wide range of guest collaborations, and consistent contributions from its figurehead, Black Panther: The Album is what all collaborative art should strive to be. Well-performing on its own right outside of the already-successful movie, Kendrick’s accompaniment is both an achievement for Marvel and an artistic work that stands on its own. Between the album’s pop bops, futuristic chase songs, and braggadocious fight music there’s something here for everyone. When I saw a grandma groove out to SZA as the movie’s credits rolled, I was more confident than ever of this album’s universal appeal.

2 Chainz - The Play Don’t Care Who Makes It

2 Chainz has been on a roll for years now. Often opting for smaller, more bite-sizedprojects and collaborations over full-on albums, The Play Don’t Care Who Makes It is the newest installment in Mr. Chainz’ series of low-commitment EPs. Coming in at a crisp four songs over 16 minutes, each song is expansive enough for Tity Boi’s usual comedic bars, a couple of guest features, and even a loving shoutout to all of Atlanta’s strippers. The Play is 2 Chainz incarnate: every song hits, and the short running time doesn’t leave any room for it to wear out its welcome.

Justin Timberlake - Man of the Woods

Whew. I don’t want to spend an excessive amount of time shitting on this record because I’m far from the first to do it, but also because it feels a little over-done… that said, Man of the Woods is a pants-shitting mess from front-to-back. Self-described as “Americana with 808s,” this album was doomed from conception. Even one half-attentive viewing of the “Supplies” music video is a good indicator of the full-album experience: a violently-bright and schizophrenic country-fueled acid trip gone wrong. Each track feels like Timberlake is throwing everything at the wall, indiscriminately mashing ten ideas into one track, laying terrible lyrics over the top, and then just delivering it all in the most earnest way he possibly can. In a way, I admire it.

As a whole, Man of The Woods feels like some sort of Joaquin Phoenix-esque meta career move in which you’re not quite sure how much of this is serious and how much is parody. Featuring Do-wop vocals, dueling harmonicas, and unnerving narration, it’s like Timberlake heard Young Thug’s Beautiful Thugger Girls and thought “I could do this” … but he can’t.

Some cuts are perfectly fine and listenable (“Montana” is pretty great, “Breeze Off the Pond” is at least pointed), but the remainder of the songs are comically bad and go on for minutes longer than they need to. The album’s most definitively bad moment comes in the backstretch when a half-awake Jessica Biel provides the excruciating introduction to “Flannel” which sounds like Lonely Island performing a children’s lullaby.

At the end of the day, this is just a pop album from Justin Timberlake, so I didn’t expect high-art, and I didn’t expect a mind-shifting release. That said, it’s been fun to revel in the collective schadenfreude of watching someone fail at such an audacious genre experiment in such a spectacular and public way. The full album may leave the listener in a state of ongoing agony begging for it to end, but the good thing is: it’s just pop.

Car Seat Headrest - Twin Fantasy  (Face to Face)

For the sake of getting the rotten taste of Man of the Woods out of your mouth, we’ll end with one of the best albums of February: Car Seat Headrest’s remake of Twin Fantasy. Already a breakthrough record in its own right, this 2018 release is a version of the record that’s been completely remade from the ground up. While the original album is still up for streaming in all its lo-fi charm, it’s hard to deny the absolute achievement that Twin Fantasy represents.

Just as verbose, meta, poetic, philosophical, and fraught with emotions as the day that it was first recorded, Twin Fantasy will stand the test of time as an album about the most universal of journeys. About the simplicity of letting go and putting your hands around someone else’s shoulders and the complexity of everything that tends to follow. Temptation, rejection, debauchery, desire, contradictions, fears, manias, sexuality, routine, experimentation, depression, addiction, nervousness, otherness, love, and heartbreak. This album somehow manages to touch on every one of those topics in a raw, poignant, and open way that rarely is captured in life, much less crystallized on an album.

The fact that one of this generation’s most pivotal breakup albums could not only exist but be remade not to its own detriment is a testament to the creative core and message at the center of this record. Car Seat Headrest managed to improve the original, change it just enough that it feels new, and managed to keep the original spirit intact, all of which sounds like an impossibility, yet at the end of it all, there’s this album. It’s the most accurate portrayal of modern love ever captured in sound. It’s love and heartbreak on an oceanic scale. It’s Twin Fantasy.

Quick Hits

Because I may not have a lot to say, but I listen to a lot, and I like to be thorough.

• Rich Brian - Amen: After achieving viral success and undergoing a name change, the Indonesian rapper offers up his first official release packed with chilling, bassy, self-produced songs.

• Ratboys - GL: A four-track EP of slidey, female-fronted emo songs in which every move is measured, and every past action is regretted.

• Towkio - WWW.: Dropped from space, WWW. is this Savemoney crew member’s debut following the excellent .WAV Theory mixtape.

• Dashboard Confessional - Crooked Shadows: Chris Carrabba’s first album in 9 years is the definition of “hit-or-miss.” We’ll probably never get another song as precious or hard-hitting as “Ghost of a Good Thing,” but this album still has its moments.

• SOB X RBE - GANGIN: After introducing themselves to a broader audience with their Black Panther appearance, the group smartly follows-up their newfound exposure with this ballistic sophomore album.

• Rhye - Blood: Adult contemporary, but not in the way you’re thinking.

• Pianos Become the Teeth - Wait For Love: An unrelenting, explosive, and propulsive grouping of 10 songs from the post-hardcore torchbearers.

• American Pleasure Club - a whole fucking lifetime of this: The recently-renamed Run For Cover signees openly noodle, experiment, and remorse for a laid-back genre-less half-hour.

• Caroline Rose - Loner: Yet another album filed under “surprises provided by the internet,” Loner is the exact type of lowkey hyper-conscious slacker indie that’s eternally-appealing to me.

• Superchunk - What a Time to Be Alive: The 90’s DIY-rockers are back with 11 tightly-wound tracks that they volley at the listener without pause.

• Thundercat - Drank: The “chopped not slopped” remix of last year’s Drunk finds even more groovy mellow bass-centered love here.

• Ought - Room Inside the World: Ought lurch forward sadly with this collection of glowing tracks that bubble up to the listener’s ears with palpable remorse and moodiness.

• Palm - Rock Island: Traditional time signatures be damned! The fourth record from the Philadelphian math rockers is polished, jagged, and filled with more unexpected moments than a Black Mirror episode.

• Franz Ferdinand - Always Ascending: It’s ok.

• U.S. Girls - In A Poem Unlimited: Psychedelic, sexy, and occasionally-dancy indie jams that explode with violence and lust.

• Ravyn Lenae - Crush EP: Slow-moving and delicate, this Steve Lacy-helmed EP is a brief outing that should fill the R&B-shaped hole in your heart.

Plus we’ve also got fresh singles/covers from Frank Ocean, The Wonder Years, Beach House, Courtney Barnett, Ryan Adams, Father John Misty, Blocboy, Parquet Courts, Sorority Noise, Underoath, Code Orange, Run The Jewels, 6Lack, Kero Kero Bonito, Girlpool, Mount Eerie, , Remo Drive, Rae Sremmurd, The Voids, Flatbush Zombies, Car Seat Headrest, Post Malone, Julien Baker x Manchester Orchestra, Janelle Monáe,Jay Som, A$AP Rocky, A$AP Ferg, Kim Petras, Chvrches, Soccer Mommy, and Future.

Swim Into The Sound’s 20 Favorite Albums of 2017

Last Year 

2017 sucked. Politics have sucked. People have sucked. My diet has sucked. Everything is falling apart in slow motion. The entire year has felt like one prolonged exercise in frustration as we collectively fight back with about as much power as a punch thrown in a dream state.

I spent the first half of this year working a job that was fun, creatively fulfilling, paid well, and in my field. That ticks pretty much all of the “career boxes” one could ask for, so as turbulent as the gig was, I was disappointed when it came to an end over the summer. I’ve spent the back half of this year wrangling random freelance gigs, volunteering, looking for a job, and reveling in ambiguous employment.

It’s no coincidence that, after a six-month break, I began writing here regularly back in May because I truly had no other creative outlet at the time. I’d just like to say: thank God for this blog. Swim Into The Sound has proven to be an excellent way to expel my oft-overflowing creative juices, and writing here has provided me more solace, motivation, and guidance than I can ever put into words.

I’d also like to extend a personal and sincere thanks to you for reading. Whether this is your first time here or you’ve been subscribed for months, every reader means the world to me. On top of increased readership, I’ve also received some absolutely incredible responses to my writing this year. I’ve grabbed the attention of artists I love and podcasters that I look up to. I made the front page of /r/indieheads (my internet home), and people that I know in real life have discussed Swim Into The Sound write-ups with me. Most of the time I just write this stuff, edit it until I’m slightly less ashamed, then throw it out onto the internet. It’s forever-astonishing to me that anyone engages with these words, so thank you. It’s been a spectacular journey, and there are already many cool projects brewing for 2018. I can’t wait to see where things go from here.

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To keep from drowning you in personal details, let’s just get straight to the main event. As bad as some parts of 2017 have been, it was actually an incredible year for music. Unlike the past, 2017 has felt like a year with no “clear” album of the year winner. There was no Blonde, Carrie & Lowell or To Pimp a Butterfly. No album that made a massive culture-wide impact, or even wormed its way into my list of all-time favorites yet. Instead, it’s been a year of many, many, many great albums, which in some ways is more exciting.

2017 has also been a year of upheaval. A year where women could rule, creeps could be called out, and our world was at risk of ending at any moment. It’s an exciting, hopeful, draining, and terrifying time to be alive. It has also been a year of unexpected surprises. I’ve found welcome homes in unexpected places, both online and in real life, and these communities have helped make me a stronger person.

2017 was also a year of discovery. I’ve been to more concerts in the past 12 months than I have the rest of my life combined. Thanks to a free 6-month TIDAL subscription, I’ve made more musical discoveries in 2017 than any year previously. From Hamilton to Swans, I’ve broadened my horizons more this year than ever before.

There are a lot of things to say about 2017, but if nothing else, it was the year that I learned about the power of weirdness. The strength that all of us have to stand up to the people in power. The creative potential that lies within all of us. I’ve found excitement in the new, and comfort in tradition. As always, this blog is a place to celebrate both old and new, but December specifically is a time to pause and reflect on the year that’s just passed. The things that inspire. The things that bring hope. The magnificent creations.

I’ve been celebrating 2017 for the entire month of December, and this post officially marks the end of “List Season” here on Swim Into The Sound. If you haven’t checked out our Diamond Platter Awards or Un-Awards, please feel free to peruse them for an even more complete picture of both the good and bad that 2017 has had to offer. But from here on out we find only the great. The impeccable. The cream of the crop. The best pieces from a year of many fantastic works.

So here’s to the weird. The new, the fresh, and the bold. Here’s to staying strong. Here are my 20 favorite albums of 2017.

20 | Slowdive - Slowdive

Slowdive’s self-titled album plays out like a fever dream. From its first notes, the record warmly envelops your entire body, consuming you like a long-lost childhood memory. As the album wears on, it transports the listener further, slowly shepherding them as they venture from their starting point on earth until they’re floating weightlessly in space surrounded only by far-off glittering lights and nostalgic memories from a life that’s not their own.

In keeping with the introduction’s theme of “discovery,” Slowdive is a group that I’d never listened to until this year. Needless to say, the fact that the band’s self-titled fourth album was their first in 22-years was lost on me. Despite the fact that I went into the album fresh and lacking context, the impact of Slowdive’s 2017 release was still severely felt.

There’s a sense of strange familiarity and nostalgia at play throughout Slowdive. Songs like “Star Roving” and “Sugar for the Pill” have an immediately-accessible grungy 90’s sound in which Sonic-Youth-esque vocals pair with reverb-ridden post-rock guitars and precise drumming. Using this word feels weird (especially for a record that isn’t even my favorite of the year), but Slowdive is perfect. It’s a flawless self-contained adventure that’s both accessible to newcomers and satiating to long-time fans. It’s the purest distillation of what dream pop is all about. It’s a monumental record of whirring soundscapes that shift like slowly-moving giants and crash against the listener like dense ocean waves. Slowdive is a masterful release from a band who’s not afraid to wait for greatness.

19 | SZA - CTRL

A “summer album” if I’ve ever heard one, SZA’s long-awaited debut LP is a bright, shimmering, and sunny record packed with songs of unrequited love punctuated by brief moments of carefree enjoyment. Songs jump from soaring infectious melodies to harrowing tales of normalcy at a moment’s notice, making for a manic listening experience that’s just as fun-loving as it is heartbreaking.

CTRL is an album about a normal girl by a normal girl. A collection of songs about the human experience from an honest and decidedly-female perspective. It’s like the R&B version of My Woman sprinkled with breakneck vocals, raw lyricism, and Blonde-esque instrumentation. Even when singing about well-trodden topics like late-night hookups, SZA manages to make everything feel refreshing and new. You get the sense that countless long hours and many late nights were spent crafting this album because the entire LP feels well-worn, well-loved, and well-thought out. CTRL is a single confidently-delivered package that glistens and beams in the sunlight of the listener’s heart.

18 | Jay Z - 4:44

It’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s confession time: until this year I’ve never listened to a Jay-Z project in full. I’d heard the hits, the guest verses, the collaborations, and I know he’s got a trilogy of near-perfecthip-hop albums, but to be honest, I’ve just never been that into Mr. Carter’s approach to rapping. When I heard people raving about his thirteenth album, I decided that I had nothing to lose, so I took full advantage of my TIDAL subscription, set my reservations aside, and give it a shot.

Ever since Beyonce’s 2016 album I’ve been invested in the “Lemonade Narrative,” and it turns out 4:44 followed that album up directly by providing listeners with some sense of conclusion and finality.

While I came for the People Magazine drama, I stayed for everything else. It turns out 4:44 is a stunning, honest, and compact album that features Jay-Z at his most reflective and adult-like state yet. I guess scandal, nearly losing your wife, then having twins is enough to change anyone for the better. On top of Jay’s refreshing take on himself, we have an album that’s centered around his old sample-based soul sound. Helmed entirely by No I.D., this led to a record that feels complete, consistent, and singularly-visionary throughout. While Jay-Z has been resting on his laurels artistically for some time, this album proves he still has a strong voice, important things to say, and an impactful message that’s worth conveying in 2017. As he moves into the position of hip-hop’s father figure, I’m now excited for the first time in my life to see what Mr. Carter has in store for us next.

17 | Father John Misty - Pure Comedy

It was unclear where Father John Misty would go after 2015’s breakthrough I Love You, Honeybear. Turns out the answer was everywhere. From tormenting Ryan Adams to duetting with Tim Heidecker, Tillman’s extra-musical antics are simply too innumerable to list in one single blurb. The good thing for fans was, as overwhelming as the avalanche of news updates sometimes felt, each headline managed to be entertaining and (more often than not) resulted in fresh music.

When it came time to release his third album under the Father John Misty persona, Josh Tillman turned his gaze outward. Shifting from the self-destructive personal tales of Honeybear, Pure Comedy finds Misty openly waging war against the universe and everyone in it. In the album’s slow-mounting opening track, a winding piano skitters around Tillman’s biting stanzas, ensuring that neither it nor the listener are trampled underfoot. As the lyrics outline the cosmic absurdity of existence, the piano pulls away, the vocals mount, and a gently-brushed drum begins to keep time just as Tillman belts out the album’s title. It feels like an announcement. An exercise. The catharsis of two albumless years and an election gone awry.

Featuring grand, swelling, and sometimes rambling songs, Pure Comedy blurs the lines between a post-apocalyptic near-future and present day. The album becomes a microscope through which humanity is observed, and everyone’s a smug asshole including our narrator.

The album’s definitive moment comes with its last two songs “So I’m Growing Old on Magic Mountain” and “In Twenty Years or So” which together make for an epic 17-minute meditative send-off. Both songs are massive, colorful, and awe-inspiring ballads that hit you with a crippling emotional gut punch before landing on what’s essentially a twist ending. Best experienced as the conclusion to the album’s 74-minute journey, Pure Comedy may take some time to sink in, but once it does, it will linger with you forever.

16 | (Sandy) Alex G - Rocket

Alexander Giannascoli is an enigma. A wonderfully-gifted singer, willfully-obtuse songwriter, and prodigy of melody, Alex G first rose to prominence through a series of increasingly-prolific Bandcamp releases culminating in DSU, his indie-wide breakthrough. Since then, he’s made a name for himself continuing to record artistically-acclaimed small-scale releases in between working with Frank Ocean, and more recently, he’s undergone a name change rebranding himself by adding “(Sandy)” to the front of his title.

Much like the man behind the music, Rocket is a mysterious and wandering album full of bright sounds and brilliant ideas. From jaunty country duets to auto-tuned croons, and even hardcore noise rock screams Giannascoli wields an astonishing amount of genres effectively throughout Rocket’s 41 minutes. Despite the fact that nearly every song takes a different musical approach, the entire record maintains a strong sense of self and wholeness throughout. Each additional sound and layer of weirdness adds merely one more brush stroke on to the bigger story that’s already been painted, resulting in a beautiful and one-of-a-kind work.

15 | Kendrick Lamar - DAMN.

Kendrick Lamar’s fourth LP is one of the most important records of 2017. A shared experience, a communal soundtrack, and a cultural anthem, DAMN. is a stadium-packing monument to the marginalized, underrepresented, and underserved. Despite an impressive prelude, intricate self-referential throughlines, and conceptual frameworks (both real and imagined), the Compton rapper’s 2017 release is fantastic but falls just short of his last two LPs.

Taking neither the cinematic route of Good Kid, M.A.A.D City, or the jazzy cultural takedown that was To Pimp A Butterfly, DAMN. lies somewhere in the middle as a primarily-autobiographical record that finds Lamar contextualizing his existence within a broader cultural landscape. Each song is a personal unmasking of the man behind the music, and the demons that live within him. Each word lets the listener a half-step deeper into Lamar’s psyche.

While DAMN. isn’t bad, I feel the need to defend my decision to place it towards the back of this list (in opposition to apparently every other publication this year). At a certain point, whatever album followed the magnum opus that is To Pimp a Butterfly was destined to be a disappointment, or at the very least feel like comparing apples to oranges. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been enjoying DAMN. all year (and listened to it more than almost every other album of 2017), but I can’t shake the feeling something is missing that kept it from being truly next-level.

Part of the reason I’d rank DAMN. below some of Lamar’s earlier albums is how piecemeal it feels. Songs stand alone (for better or worse) and rarely feel like part of a cohesive point that the artist is making. While this allows for some incredible variation and sonic experimentation, it also means DAMN. feels formless and aimless at times. The reason it gets #15 is that even a good-to-great Kendrick Lamar album is better than most other records any given year.

“HUMBLE.” is an unparalleled cultural anthem. “DNA.” is a blood-pumping, muscle-flexing, and stank-face-inducing track. “FEAR.” is a foreboding tale that recounts three pivotal ages in Kendrick’s life. Each of these songs have become standouts of 2017, and even some of Lamar’s best. A commentary on race, sexuality, and our nation, DAMN. is just a pit stop in the career of the greatest rapper alive.

14 | Idles - Brutalism

I’m a punk at heart. While I’m not as angry as I was back in high school, I often forget how deep those roots go and how influential that genre of music has been for me. Sometimes a record comes out that rekindles a long-lost love and can bring you back where you were at a specific moment in time, and for me that’s Brutalism. Hailing from Bristol, Idles are an English punk band that has been active for nearly half a decade at this point. After a stringofEPs, Brutalism marks the group’s first official LP, and while it’s only the group’s debut, that five-year cooking time is evident in how fleshed out this record is. It feels like a career high, and it’s only our introduction to the band.

“Heel / Heal” kicks things off like a powder keg as the drum unrelentingly pounds forward with engine-like momentum. Soon singer Joe Talbot enters the mix and exasperatedly exclaims “I’m DONE” as the bass and guitar explode beneath him. Tracks like “Well Done” and “Date Night” perfectly capture the directionless anger that accompanies mid-20’s joblessness and sexual frustration, all captured in biting two-minute takes that bounce back and forth between the walls of the listener’s skull.

“Mother” is the album’s snarling high-point as the group weave a tale of matriarchal political betrayal. Hooking the listener with a twist chorus as a well-placed pause allows them to unveil a beautifully-poetic “Mother… Fucker.” It’s barebones, simplistic, straight-forward punk music that evokes the best parts of the Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, and The Sex Pistols, all presented in a surprisingly clean and well-produced 40-minute package.

13 | Tyler, The Creator - Flower Boy

There’s no doubt about it; Tyler, The Creator grew up before our eyes. The enigmatic figurehead of Odd Future made a name for himself at the dawn of the New Internet by leveraging a deft understanding of new media and shock value as fuel for the unparalleled rise of a group of 20-something Californian teenagers. Tyler’s solo career has wound from Horrorcore to Death Grips-esque industrial hip-hop, but on his latest LP, he eschews all that for a veneer up-front of transparency.

On the opening track “Forward” we witness Tyler as he wrestles with everything from waning popularity to racist cops to his own sexuality. It’s here that we begin to realize we’re in store for a more honest record. While the album still has some scattered bangers like “Who Dat Boy” and “I Ain’t Got Time!”, the remainder of the album is a jazzy and shockingly-reserved outing that allows Tyler to vulnerably open up more than we’ve ever seen before. “November” and “See You Again” both revel in nostalgia while “911 / Mr. Lonely” and “Where This Flower Blooms” offer hopeful rays of positivity that claw towards the possibility of a brighter future.

When Flower Boy leaked two weeks ahead of its scheduled release date, most of the discussion online surrounded “Garden Shed,” the album’s revealing centerpiece that, combined with a handful of references scattered throughout the record, seem to allude to Tyler coming out of the closet. While there have been severalhints up to this point, Tyler addressing this topic so entirely feels like the coming of a new age. The hip-hop figure who made a name for himself eating cockroaches and embracing vulgar darkness is now crooning and singing about kissing white boys. It’s refreshing, shocking, and reassuring all at once. Undeniably his best work, the world now finds itself rapt as we wait for the newly-matured Tyler, The Creator to make his next move.

12 | Julien Baker - Turn Out The Lights

The most spiritual experience I’ve had with music this year (maybe ever) has been interacting with Julien Baker’s Sprained Ankle over the summer. I say ‘interacting with’ because it was much more than just listening. The album deeply affected me. It touched me. It was affirmation that everything was going to be okay and my feelings weren’t invalid. I spent a month or two going on long, multi-hour, half-drunk, wistfully-existential walks, the feelings of which I detailed in this write-up over the summer. What initially began as a lazy way to get my Fitbit steps in, quickly evolved into therapy. Something I needed to do to work out issues I was going through at that time. My first job had crumbled before my eyes, and I’d never felt more isolated and alone. When Baker announced her sophomore album was coming out by the end of the year, I found myself emotionally-drained, but hungry for more.

Turn Out the Lights begins with the arid creak of an old floorboard and a slowly-mounting piano line. That piano bleeds into “Appointments,” and soon Baker unveils herself as the force of nature that she is. The keys become eclipsed by a faintly-glimmering guitar as Baker regretfully explains that she’s spending the night at home. The song slowly mounts into an explosive cry of shaky self-assurance “Maybe it’s all gonna turn out alright / Oh, I know that it’s not / but I have to believe that it is.”

The remainder of the album’s songs follow a similar pattern, often focusing on one single instrument and Julien Baker’s incredible voice as she outlines tales of death, regret, and religion. It’s a heart-breaking album of stunning moments and impeccable songwriting that manage to articulately explain the dark, dull pain of a deep depression. I believe in God and Julien Baker.

11 | Smidley - Smidley

I first stumbled across Smidley in a half-hearted attempt research the bands who were opening for Tigers Jaw on tour this spring. After 33 minutes of listening to the group’s breezy self-titled record, I calmly collected myself, picked my jaw off the floor, and listened to the whole thing again.

Probably one of my biggest “surprises” this year, Smidley’s self-titled record is brought to us courtesy of Foxing’s frontman Conor Murphy and features a collection of ten refreshingly-unique pop-punk tracks. Often fueled by bile and anger, the songs on Smidley range from soccer mom takedowns to dead dogs, yet every song bears the same airy, happy, summery disposition, and I can’t think of any other artist that could deliver a chorus of “Fuck This” in such a pleasant tone.

While “Fuck This” may have been a personal chant of mine throughout 2017, the most striking moment of the album comes in its closing song. Preceded by a dark ballad of drool-inducing drug binges, “Under The Table” is a cresting pop-punk depiction of a relationship that finds Murphy singing the song’s chorus in a whispered voice. As he sings the song’s title, his words are punctuated by a towering drum strike and the track explodes to life as a set of double-tracked vocals pair with a bouncy bass and rigorous guitar. It’s a cathartic and throat-shredding closer that left me in awe, the ballsy ending note to an album that surprised me with brilliance from its first seconds.

10 | BROCKHAMPTON - SATURATION II

My first exposure to BROCKHAMPTON came when I sat down to listen to the first of three records the group released this year. Encouraged by a friend to check them out, I went into the Saturation Trilogy knowing nothing more than the fact that BROCKHAMPTON was an Odd Future-esque music collective that preferred to be labeled as a “boy band.”

The first thing I heard when I hit play on “HEAT” was 10 seconds of a garbled ambient hum. Suddenly a series of drum hits and a nastily-blown out bass forced their way onto the track accompanied by the first set of lyrics: “I got pipe dreams of crack rocks and stripper poles.” and every muscle in my body stiffened at once. After these introductory lines, the group’s members went on to trade bars about everything from race to self-medication over the song’s four and a half minutes before culminating in a brutish scream of “FUCK YOU.” I was hooked.

Gripped by the song’s lyrical and instrumental ferocity, I was hungry for more, but the next song sounded nothing like the first, and the third sounded nothing like either before it… yet they all worked. The first tape’s other highlights include the pop-culturally-dense “STAR” and “BUMP,” a track that jostles the listener from pop-punk-esque singing to gritty hip-hop bars. The boy band seemed to be intentionally trying to throw the listener off at every turn, packing as many ideas, sounds, voices, and topics into one project as humanly possible, and the crazy thing is that it worked.

At this point, it practically feels cliched to talk about BROCKHAMPTON’s origin (a group of teens who met on a message board and all moved into a house to create music), but it feels necessary because it gives context to the group’s output. Having released three albums, a documentary, TV show, and tour all within 365 days is a feat. The fact that all each of these multimedia creations are of the same impeccable quality is what’s worth writing home about. BROCKHAMPTON are prolific young creators incarnate. Handling everything from production and art direction in-house, the group is DIY-ing their way to the top of the rap game through sheer brute force.

On Saturation IIthe group finds an even more refined sound. I went in cautious, wondering if they could even brush the same level of greatness as we saw on the first Saturation, yet the group managed to exceed even that. Early album cut “QUEER” represents a single-song encapsulation of what makes the group special, jumping from punchy “fuck you” hip-hop to infectious mid-verse chants to jarring crooned choruses, the song swings between multiple sounds and genres all in less than four minutes. On the opposite end of the spectrum, the penultimate “SUNNY” interpolates “Torn” by Natalie Imbruglia in a moment that sent me into a powerful spiral of nostalgia the first time I heard that iconic late-90’s guitar slide.

To put it simply, everything is better on Saturation II. The earworm-ready choruses are refined further, the verses are tighter, and the beats are even wilder. The whole album is more polished and cohesive with songs that can work on their own and exist within the context of the larger album. Flawless, unreal, and unlike anything else this year.

9 | Half Waif - form/a

Half Waif’s form/a EP is an introverted, lush, and secluded 19-minute collection of electronic songs single-mindedly concerned with emotions and moods. Sung solely from the perspective of frontwoman Nandi Rose Plunkett, this EP finds her reflecting on impactful and pivotal moments from her childhood using a cold Celtic electronic soundscape as her icy backdrop.

Throughout the EP Plunkett finds herself reckoning with what it means to be a woman in the world, and what decisions have led her to this exact moment in time. Her voice is haunting and calculated. Her keyboards swell just when she needs them to, and the drums kick in at just the right moments. It’s clear that Nandi has a strong command over every piece of the world that she’s exposing you to, a carefully-constructed recreation of her memories, tragedies, and thoughts forever documented lovingly on the 19 minutes of form/a.

It’s an album about missing out, getting lost in your own head, and vanishing into nothing. Opening and closing with a set of lyrics about emotions, she finally reveals the album’s meaning in “Cerulean” as she sings “My mood has no form / It sits on my chest heavy and warm / My mood is not an invited guest / It takes over my body and gives me no rest.” It’s a striking and introverted sentiment dripping with emotion and rawness, delivered over a cold and unfeeling electronic beat.

A seemingly common topic for Nandi, this idea of formless and untamable moods is something that feels surprisingly missing from music. Songs are so often about feelings and the actions that they inspire, but rarely ever the moods themselves. form/a is a beautiful and sprawling expedition of the self that feels familiar and foreign at once.

8 | Sorority Noise - You’re Not as Alone As You Think

For a while Sorority Noise was just another half-silly, half-serious emo band that sang about girls, and sad feelings. While I thought I preferred the group’s earlier carefree approach to emo, 2017’s You’re Not As _____ As You Think takes the seriousness of 2015’s Joy, Departed to the next level musically, lyrically, and mentally.

In an interview with Stereogum, the group’s primary musical force Cameron Boucher detailed an experience that served as the record’s driving force. Following the suicide of a childhood friend, Cameron found himself back in his hometown:

“Sean had been passed away for about a year, but I didn’t remember that. And so I was like, I’m gonna drive by Sean’s house and just stop by and say hi. And then I drove to his house, and when I pulled up in front, I realized he wasn’t there. That’s what the chorus of [No Halo] is about, and the whole song in general… I think I literally just sat in my car and wrote 90% of the lyrics right there.”

We saw the immediate effects of Sean’s suicide on It Kindly Stopped for Me, an EP that was never meant to be released to the public but was put out in hopes that it would help others in the same way that it helped Cameron. In that same interview, Boucher revealed that he primarily writes songs from emotion, as a way to cope with reality, not really thinking about what they mean or needing to explain them down the road. What we see on You’re Not As _____ As You Think is someone who’s sat, meditated, and grown from the pain of this loss. It tackles drug abuse, depression, religion, and everything in between with some of the most raw, honest, and heartfelt lyrics that I’ve ever heard.

In late October the group released Alone a follow-up 7” that was meant to fill in the blank space in You’re Not As _____ As You Think. Containing two songs that add an additional layer of gravitas, and reflection to the full LP, these two releases combine into one singularly-impactful emotional gut punch that candidly addresses depression openly and honestly.

7 | The National - Sleep Well, Beast

On the cover of The National’s new album, we see a black and white photo of a happy home. Composed of five straight lines, the house is simple and picturesque as if it were drawn by a child. The sky is grey and muted like a fall morning at 3am. Inside of the house, we can make out a handful of figures. The house is missing a door. We’re not sure what’s happening, we’re not sure if they’re happy, but all we know is that we’re on the outside looking in.

The music contained behind this cover is suitably just as grey and simplistic. Jutting around drunkenly with jagged songs of sadness and regret, Sleep Well, Beast is The National’s great monument. I’ve been listening to the band casually for years now, but nothing has ever grabbed me the way that this record has. I listened through a few times thinking ‘this is good’ but then one fateful day, an old relationship sprang back into my life while “Carin at the Liquor Store” was playing and The National made cosmic sense to me at that moment. Suitably wistful, overwrought, and trapped in their own heads, this is music made for turbulence of the soul. Music for a world that doesn’t make sense, but you must exist in nonetheless.

On a late October episode of Comedy Bang Bang, the National found themselves playing acoustic renditions of Beast songs in between interviews with zany characters. Before playing “Guilty Party,” lead singer Matt Berninger explained that the record about “looking over the edge of ‘what if?’” It’s an album about hibernation. About emerging from depression and combating the dregs of the world with dogged consistency if nothing else.

Beautifully-composed with dashes of electronic elements and long, swaying melodies, every song contained here showcases a different strength of the band. It’s an album that makes you happy to have lived. Even if you’re encountering a constant stream of bullshit, slowly being beaten down and drained by the great torrent of life, Sleep Well Beast assures you it’s all worth it by letting you know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Hope for us all in the grey dawn.

6 | Phoebe Bridgers - Stranger in the Alps

Phoebe Bridgers’ soul is haunted. Throughout Stranger in the Alps, her guitar, voice, and thoughts drip with tangible darkness and unshakable regret. It’s a 44-minute soul-bearing expedition that will leave you physically and emotionally drained by the end.

Beginning with “Smoke Signals” a rolling, arid track that finds our hero dying vicariously through Lemmy and Bowie, the album twitches and swirls with life, reveling in the shifting blackness of the afterlife. Throughout the record we see flashes of a life well-lived: singing at funerals, unearnest hypnotherapist visits, and basking in the half-comfort of a shower beer. All of these tracks center around Bridgers’ confidently-delivered vocals, impeccable guitar work, and brilliant stretches of self-destructive storytelling.

One of the most haunting works comes at the album’s halfway point in the form of “Killer,” a measured piano-ballad track that finds Bridgers taking after indie folk Gods like Sufjan Stevens by comparing herself directly to a renowned serial killer. In the back half of the song she flashes forward to her own death as the piano flutters and a subtle hum of strings enter the mix. Stranger is one of the best debut albums I’ve heard in years, and as Bridgers embarks on a nationwide tour on the back of this record’s success, I absolutely can’t wait to see what she has for us next.

5 | The War on Drugs - A Deeper Understanding

Long-time fans will know that when I call something “background music” I mean it as a compliment. For months now, The War on Drugs A Deeper Understanding has been my go-to “background album” for nearly every situation and I believe it deserves props for that alone. When no other music presents itself to me, when I can’t think of anything else to listen to, when my queue is empty, this record is always there.

There’s something to be said for an album that’s calm and steady enough to lie in the background, yet musical enough to stand on its own. Some of my all-time favorite groups like Mogwai, Explosions in the Sky, and Russian Circles are all bands that I adore and lovingly refer to as background music. They’ve helped me read, write, and create. They’re the perfect soundtrack to life, and now A Deeper Understanding joins their ranks as a fantastic album of infinite subtleties, musical vastness, and ever-cresting sonic landscapes.

On top of this situational flexibility, A Deeper Understanding also manages to improve upon the band’s previous effort Lost in the Dream which is astounding. The highs are louder and more blistering, and the lows hit even harder. Every song is a journey, and each solo implores you to get out and explore the world. A romantic record that inspires with each breath it takes.

4 | Mount Eerie - A Crow Looked at Me

Phil Elverum has a message to declare: Death is real. Recorded after his wife’s passing in July of 2016, A Crow Looked at Me is the draining of grief. An exorcism of pain. A confessional, first-hand account of the soul-wringing agony that is inflicted in the wake of the death of a loved one. How you live. How your infant daughter lives. The crushing pain of mundanity and how everything you see is a memory. A past. A future. A plan that never got to unfold. It’s not an album, it’s grief incarnate. It’s not fun to listen to, but it’s one of the most important releases of the year. The more you dig into the album, the more it hurts. Each line is a painful, poetic, being-shifting barb in which you empathize with Elverum unlike any other artist.

Recorded entirely on his wife’s instruments, the physical record has exact times demarcating how long each song was written from the time of her death. Some songs use a respirator for the beat and contain lyrics about how even the old garbage in the upstairs bathroom serves as a reminder that your loved one is gone. Every moment is beautiful, and every second hurts. It hangs heavy in your chest and will remain there for the rest of your life.

3 | Lorde - Melodrama

On the polar opposite of Crow, we have Lorde’s Melodrama a bright, joyful, and carefree album that, yes, is about a breakup, but handles that topic with as much happiness as a pop album possibly can.

Lorde’s first album in four years, Melodrama was one of 2017’s most highly anticipated releases. From aged poptimists to teen streamers and radio-ready moms, everyone was looking forward to the iconic New Zealander's return to music, and the most miraculous thing is that Lorde managed to please every one of these groups with the same album. Melodrama is musical enough to stand on its own against “high art,” poppy enough to be played on the radio, and has just enough flourishes to reward repeat listening.

To put it simply, Melodrama is the best of every possible world. A sophomore album that manages to please fans both old and new. A shining example of the heights that the pop genre can achieve, and the barriers it can break. It’s the continued and never-ending story of how one sixteen year old can rocket herself from a 2013 Song of the Summer to industry mainstay, segueing all that into the creation of one of the best releases of an entire genre. Melodrama is a pure, unbridled, and brilliant success on every level.

2 | Feist - Pleasure

Like most other denizens of 2007, my first exposure to Feist was through her fluke pop hit “1234.” As previously documented, I was slavishly devoted to late-2000’s-era pop music, so this song’s cultural impact was not lost on me. Like many other listeners, the song quickly faded from my consciousness and I wrote Feist off as a one-hit-wonder. After all, “1234” was essentially a Sesame Street song and, while catchy, wasn’t particularly deep. So I categorized her in the same vapid Adult Contemporary genre as Teddy Geiger and James Blunt: not offensive, but not something I’d ever seek out on my own. Aside from a one-off reference in a 2009 episode of The Office, I seemed to be right for the most part, at least she never broke her way back into my iTunes library.

When I saw people glowingly discussing Feist’s 2017 record I was intrigued, to say the least. Assuming it would merely be a pleasant and well-polished pop album full of slightly-Canadian tunes, I sought out the record and let it play through.

Expertly-deployed as the first song, “Pleasure” is an absolutely stunning introduction that immediately dismantled every one of my previously-held 1234-based notions. Boldly opening with 20-seconds of near-silence, “Pleasure” lulls the listener into a false sense of security with single row of, slightly-distorted guitar plucks and a reserved Leslie Feist on vocals. The melody slowly unwinds as Feist expertly pairs her voice with her guitar. Soon the music cuts down to almost nothing and Feist’s voice is reduced to a whisper as she moves closer to the mic croons the album’s title. Then, just as the listener is leaning in, straining to hear the song’s delicate melody, Feist cranks her guitar up to eleven as a simple snarl-inducing riff consumes the entire track. Towering over the rest of the mix, the distorted guitar strings swallow everything in their immediate proximity, blistering through the riff as the listener is shaken by the sudden change of tone. It’s a beautiful bait and switch, and merely the first example in an album that is brimming over the top with one-of-a-kind moments.

As an album, Pleasure finds itself oscillating between tender fragility and raw power. In a pre-album interview, Feist explained that the album is said to “explore emotional limits: loneliness, private ritual, secrets, shame, mounting pressures, disconnect, tenderness, rejection, care and the lack thereof.” and Pleasure manages to handle every one of these topics with extraordinary grace.

Sometimes the scope of the songs will pull out to reveal the larger context, but for most of this album, you’re just listening to Feist and her guitar. The songwriting and melody are sharper than almost everything I’ve heard all year, and I emerged from my first listen ashamed. Mad at myself for writing her off as a one-hit wonder when the reality couldn’t have been further from the truth: Feist is an artistic force to be reckoned with.

Funnily enough, there are also moments that come across as very trapped in time like references to flip phones, a spoken word passage by Jarvis Cocker, and a completely left-field Mastodon sample. The beauty of Pleasure is that somehow none of these elements feel out of place or make the album feel trapped in 2007. Instead, they make the record all the more special. They serve as one-of-a-kind instants that would feel ingenious anywhere else. The musical equivalent of well-worn leather. A double-helix of unique and unpredictable beauty.

Pleasure is a barebones album that’s deeply-personal and loving, occasionally violent and explosive, and wholly beautiful. Tracks like “Lost Dreams” feel like controlled explosions: moments of eruptive vitriol, surrounded by pensive waves of rocking harmonies.  Songs like “Baby Be Simple” smolder and rumble onward, often carried forward only by Leslie’s voice. You find yourself so lost in these songs that when the guitar does enter the mix, it seems like an explosive burst, even though it’s just a single gingerly-strummed chord. It’s an exercise in reduction, reservedness, and deceiving looks. Fierce and unpolished, uncomplicated and bare, Pleasure is songwriting and guitar work in its purest form. One of my favorites of the year, and an absolute hidden treasure.

1 | Japanese Breakfast - Soft Sounds From Another Planet

If years could have mascots, 2017’s would be Michelle Zauner of Japanese Breakfast. Aside from listening to her throughout the year, seeing her live twice, and being my 4th most-played artist of 2017, she has become symbolic. A figure that represents my shifting personality, internal monologue and grappling with the reality of the world. I feel like she’s simultaneously speaking to me and for me. I’ve found a new voice through hers.

As much as I enjoyed every other album on this list, my “album of 2017” can’t be anything but Soft Sounds From Another Planet. There are sadder albums, deeper albums, dancier albums, and maybe even “better” albums that released this year, but Soft Sounds represents more than that. When I think about my life next week, or next year, or five years from now, I know that Japanese Breakfast will still be a part of it. Albums come and go. Phases, genres, and artists all rise and fall, but Soft Sounds is something that I can see venturing back to forever.

I know this because Michelle’s music has already been something that I’ve been able to return to all year. Her debut album Psychopomp was one of my best discoveries of 2016 and a record that drew me in from first listen. It’s not often that I order a vinyl record before I’ve even finished my first listen. Another distinction Zauner is honored with is being one of the first "real" reviews I’ve done for this website thanks to an early vinyl shipment. That said, between that review and my female-fronted profile of her in October, there’s not much more I feel like I can say about this record on a technical level.

Despite my hype, it’s not a record I expected to be my favorite until I sat down to really think about what has impacted me this year. I took a long break from Soft Sounds after listening to it endlessly for that review, and when I came back to it after multiple weeks, I was surprised to find that I knew every word. I’d memorized every melody, and internalized every beat. That’s something I can say about very few records, let alone one that I’ve only been listening to for five months.

Michelle posted her own year in review on Instagram, and even a cursory glance reveals an incredibly happy, humble, and wholesome person who deserves every ounce of success she has earned. To watch her shoot from “Underground Bandcamp Musician” to one of the biggest names in indie over the past year has been astounding to behold.

I remember hearing “Road Head” for the first time as she sampled her vocals and made a beat of them live on stage. I remember being transported by the 90’s bass-centered groove of “Diving Woman.” I remember watching her perform “Boyish” to a silent room as a disco ball twirled above the audience’s heads. I remember dancing to “Machinist” alongside Michelle as she jumped into the audience at our small Portland show. I remember finding solace in “Till Death” as the news seemed like a constant stream of cruel men winning things that they don’t deserve. I remember tearing up to the fan-like synth of “The Body Is a Blade” as childhood photos flashed on screen. I remember full-on crying to “This House” as Zauner recounted her life in scattered flashes following her mother’s death. This album is my 2017.

Michelle Zauner is the absolute best that humanity has to offer. A shining star of this world. A phenomenal voice, a gifted director, and a musical visionary. Her music makes me want to be a better person and improve myself just for the sake of attempting to one day achieve what she already has. Thank you for the music, and thank you for the voice Michelle, you are who I want to be.

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.

Counting in Hip-Hop

For the past several weeks I’ve been working on a monster write-up, and I keep hitting walls. I don’t know if it’s writer’s block or sheer laziness, but as an exercise to overcome my wordlessness I’m going to unleash a dumbass idea that I’ve had in my head for months.

This is a post about numbers. Counting specifically. Not like time signatures or recursive rhyme schemes, or anything complicated. Nope, I’m talking about Sesame Street-level counting upward by single numbers.

This is a phenomenon that I first noticed earlier this year in the explosive lead-up to Kendrick Lamar’s DAMN. After spotting this example, I quickly noticed other instances and it began to feel like a genre-wide happening. It became a weird trend that I’ve spotted in multiple songs this year alone. There are probably even more instances that I haven’t heard yet, and at the risk of drilling down to levels of abjectly-obscure hyper-specificity, here it is: the definitive list of 2017 hip-hop songs that employ counting as a rhyme scheme.

Migos “Slippery”

In this Gucci Mane-featuring track, the Atlanta trap trio takes turns discussing women, drugs, and the liquidity of their jewelry. After the song’s first hook, Quavo, the group’s resident crooner, jumps into his verse headfirst. Any verse that starts with an earnest delivery of the word “tater tot” deserves recognition in the first place. After a cursory mention of haters followed by a crocodilian turn of phrase, Quavo circles around to the song’s primary focal point and describes his jewelry:

Iced out watch (ice) ridin’ round, ten o'clock (ten)

While not completely out of place, the transition from his bejeweled timekeeper to a relatively mundane time of day seems a little jarring. The next line reveals the mention of 10pm to actually be a setup for a series of time-related bars that would have sounded at home coming out of the Count’s mouth:

Ridin’ round, geeked up, damn, think it’s three o'clock (three)

Four o'clock (four) five o'clock, six o'clock (five)

It’s a pretty bizarre conceit, but I guess it just serves to reinforce the fact that Quavo is riding around “geeked up” at presumably any hour of the day. It’s still a line that makes me smile after dozens of listens, and if anyone can sell a song in which you literally just list off the different times of the day, it’s Quavo. His delivery on these lines are fittingly icy, and they transfer their distorted sense of time to the listener simply by proximity.

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Kendrick Lamar “The Heart Part 4”

The lead-up to Kendrick Lamar’s highly-anticipated fourth studio album was an exciting time. While we’d only experienced swirling rumors up until March, the internet’s hype hit an all-time high when Lamar dropped the surprise one-off “The Heart Part 4.” There’s a lot to digest in this song from possible disses to announcing his own arrival, but most importantly, the track served as an announcement, a message the Kendrick Lamar was officially back.

Midway through the song, there’s a beat switch, and Kendrick starts spitting a particularly venomous set of bars over an interpolated Beanie Sigel beat and a 24-Carat Black sample. He’d go on to rap over the exact same beat on the album cut “FEAR.” but for the time being, it was simply an impactful verse with some of the most braggadocious lyrics we’ve ever heard from Mr. Duckworth.

Early on in this second verse, Kendrick spits a handful of lines that only he could get away with:

Yellin’, “One, two, three, four, five

I am the greatest rapper alive!”

So damn great, motherfucker, I’ve died

What you hearin’ now is a paranormal vibe

I say only Kendrick can get away with this because it would have sounded like a lie coming from nearly anyone else. Seeing the lines written out, they still look like objectively bad lyrics, but Kendrick gets a pass because of who he is and what this song represents.

The song’s genius annotation is a hyper-linked clusterfuck of references hoping to connect all the things that Kendrick could be calling out. It’s possible he could be pulling from any one of these points, but I think this line also works because it’s so infrequent that we hear a rapper say anything like this in 2017. With younger artists releasing music that pulls more from other genres and actively distancing themselves from the “rapper” label, it’s refreshing to see some old-school “I’m the best in the game” boasting from someone who also has the technical skill to back it up.

These lines also call to mind Kendrick’s game-changing “Control” verse in which he named names and brought back an old-school rivalry to hip-hop. This verse achieves that same feeling to a lesser extent but still comes off as a good-natured challenge for his peers to better themselves.

21 Savage “Bank Account”

In this Song of the Summer contender, Atlanta-based rapper and knife enthusiast 21 Savage is pulling double duty both rapping and producing this platinum-selling cut off of his debut studio album. The single, which samples Travis Scott’s excellent “Oh My / Dis Side,” is a dark, moody, ad-lib-riddled account of 21’s wealth and an outline of how far he’s willing to go for the people he loves. When I say “account” I mean that quite literally as the song’s infectious chorus finds a joyless 21 Savage listing off the numbers in his savings account:

I got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 Ms in my bank account, yeah (on God)

In my bank account, yeah (on God)

In my bank account, yeah (on God)

In my bank account, yeah (on God)

In my bank account, yeah (on God)

In my bank account, yeah (on God)

I got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (fast)

Ready to gun you down, yeah (on God)

Ready to gun you down, yeah (on God)

Ready to gun you down, yeah (on God)

Ready to gun you down, yeah (on God)

Ready to gun you down, yeah (on God)

It’s a repetitive series of lines that are both surprisingly catchy and personable within the context of the song. This chorus is just confident enough to serve as a chest-inflating masculine brag, but also goofy enough to be used in memes like this. I’ve already documented all of Issa Album’s food references, but lines like these are the reason that people keep returning to this song (and album) in droves. The chorus of “Bank Account” is a perfect encapsulation of 21 Savage’s appeal by highlighting his trademarked emotionless flow while walking the line between repetition and darkness that he is known for.

Lyrics like the ones above may not look like much on paper, but the point is that they all work. Whether it’s the delivery, a contextual turn of phrase, or a multi-layered double-meaning, these lyrics all work flawlessly within the context of their songs.

In fact, they’re all kinda dog shit when taken out of context like I’ve done here, but this phenomenon of literal counting is just something I noticed and felt compelled to highlight. I guess with enough skill, proficiency, and charisma, people like the artists listed above can make anything sound good.

Here’s to 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 more decades of equally-straightforward lyrics. Honestly, if you can make sequential numbers compelling, then you’re succeeding as an artist.

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.