It's been a great year for music and choosing only a hundred songs for a year-end list has never been so challenging but here is the first part:
81. Wharf Talk (Tyler, the Creator feat ASAP Rocky):
to think this banger did not the original cut on his previous album is crazy!
82. Nothing But Mine (Billie Marten):
literally just praise music but has it ever sounded this good before?
83. Leikara Ljod (Susanne Sundfor):
that European-yielded conceptualism is back within a pop frame.
84. Boomerang (Jamila Woods):
twice the BPM of the rest of the tracklist and consists mostly of its truly indelible hook repeated ad nauseam; for what it is, I could dance to it until my landlord pulls my electricity, but for what it represents, and for the type of self-assurance she previously pined for realized here, it makes me believe a dance is more than just a dance. It’s a negotiation, an admittance, a reconnection, and the point. (THE LINE OF BEST FIT)
85. Virgo (Me’shell Ndegeocello):
settling into new Afro-jazz skin seamlessly.
86. A Spell, A Prayer (Corinne Bailey Rae):
call it mommy soul if you want but Bailey Rae connects to her imaginary light fantastic.
87. Echolalia (Yves Tumor):
a breathless, speak-singing trip into lovestruck dark wave and post-punk, underlining the record's themes of psychosexual and spiritual trauma, fantasy and longing. “The boy you are today ain't from a lack of pain,” they lament on Fear Evil Like Fire, over the rush of double-time drums. (THE GUARDIAN)
88. Tears Can Be Soft (Christine And The Queens):
a sad, introspective look back.
89. Talk’n That Shit! (Killer Mike):
after a lengthy silence, sometimes one has to major flex.
90. Do You Well (Nakhane feat. Perfume Genius):
what else did you expect from too of the most important maestros of complicated queer pop?
91. 5 To 8 Hours A Day… (L’rain):
sounds like as blissful as Sunday morning rain when you’re snuggling in bed.
92. It Never Happened (Bobbing):
the soundtrack playing in your head when you don’t want to hear that the relationship is over.
93. Back In Your Tree (Quasi):
a quick take on the stoner indie rock we’ve been missing for a while.
94. Obsession (Shamir):
the piping vocal delivery meets the right tempo with its crunching beats.
95. Smoke (Victoria Monet feat Lucky Daye):
steeped in a vaporous blend of ’70s funk and reggae, Victoria Monét’s new single, “Smoke,” keeps within the grand tradition of carefree and catchy weed tributes: think Rick James’ “Mary Jane” or, more recently, Jhené Aiko’s “Sativa.” Inaugurating part two of her Jaguar series, the song is full of silly 420 one-liners—“It’s a bisexual blunt it could go both ways”—but Monét’s silky delivery elevates the overripe premise. “Keep it in rotation, it’s a celebration every time we smoke,” she sings over a syrupy bassline, acing the Mathew Knowles boot camp for breath control. As the song progresses, she’s amplified by a melange of piping horns, organs, and glittering electronic accents. (PITCHFORK)
96. Uneasy (Jon Batiste feat. Lil Wayne):
an unlikely pairing but all the stylistic tricks mesh together.
97. Run, Run, Run (McKinley Dixon):
there's a perky, almost uplifting, nature to the production that masks the pain in his words with a loose drumbeat and jazzy flutes sitting underneath Dixon's memories of playing toy soldiers as a child. "Running from the guns, point and shoot," goes the song's addictive chorus. "Who thought, hardest part would be for me to stay down." Upping the pace in his verses, Dixon then spotlights the moment make believe becomes truth. "I saw that boy, then I saw his soles, wondering what songs this canary holds," he says matter of factly as trumpets fill in the gaps between breaths. Forlornly, he adds: "Whole block gone cheer when he makes it home." It's a bittersweet line that suggests blind faith is all the world has in the fight against these needless killings and that childhood innocence should be protected at all costs. (FADER)
98. The Bend (King Princess):
this hopefully means she is over good meaning pop and return to difficult, messy situations.
99. Good Girl (Jockstrap):
blissfully mixed and remixed.
100. I Been Young (George Clanton):
fuses baggy percussions with Clanton's traditional chillwave aesthetic, but contrary to his previous output, the POP elements are taking center stage to offer the anthemic chorus his soundscape always deserved.(SPUTNIKMUSIC)
