THE TOP 100 SONGS OF 2018: PART FOUR...

the penultimate batch...

21. Good Form (Nicki Minaj):

Nicki makes her mark yet again in hip hop history with a song that is essentially an ode to female empowerment and women simply being confident in themselves enough to demand that their significant other eats their “cookie” as it’s good for them. Nicki never shys away from sexual provocativeness and delights on the fact that her famous derriere can shake in multiple ways, and this same formula – which caught the eyes of the world in 2014 when she released ‘Anaconda’ – has worked again – the Nicki Effect. (THEDGESUSU)

22. ShenYeng Anthem (Shenseea):

while Spice continues to embarrass herself in haste of popularity, newer, younger girls are emerging with anthems that hit Lady Saw-era heights.

23. Mystery Of Love (Sufjan Stevens):

A charming, airy time capsule of ’80s European synth-pop and bittersweet modern orchestral compositions, peppered with Stevens’ patented tenderness. (COS)

24. Fast Slow Disco (St. Vincent):

another reworked track, this time utterly flawlessly pretty.

25. Your Teeth In My Neck (Kali Uchis):

a deceptively perky indictment of industry vampires, labor exploitation, and general inequity, with a live-jazz backing by Los Angeles’ Wldrness. “What do you do it for, rich man keeps getting richer taking from the poor,” she sings, her voice a soaring scold. “You gotta get right.” (PITCHFORK)

26. True Original (Five Steez & Mordecai):

Steez can pull off these jams in his sleep by now but things are elevated to new heights as he careens through that second verse.

27. When You’re Wrong (Twin Shadow):

the certifiable crowd-pleasing banger that the album is crying out for. Densely packed beats and a popping bass line chisel out a groove ready to raise the tempo on any tightly packed dance floor. (POPMATTERS)

28. All Wordz Are Made Up (The Voidz):

verging on the territory carved out by LCD Soundsystem but the band’s originality utterly seeps through.

29. Kites (N.E.R.D feat. Kendrick Lamar & M.I.A):

I’ve always wondered what would happen if Lamar and M.I.A ever converged on a track together…needless to say I was not disappointed.

30. Venice Beach (Lana del Rey):

Four years ago, the world might not have been ready for a nearly 10-minute Lana Del Rey song called “Venice Bitch.” But since Lana Del Rey has spent the later half of the 2010s leaning into her own persona, that “Venice Bitch” feels like the full realization of Lana Del Rey she’s been building up to. The song finds itself in a gentle groove, and spends the next nine minutes there, exploring with distorted guitars, trickling acoustics, and Lana’s haunting, wistful vocals. She’s at her most confident referencing Robert Frost, film noir, and her own doomed love. (ESQUIRE)

31. Valentine (What's It Gonna Be) (Rina Sawayama):

an anti-Valentine song for those who want a little no-strings-attached action on a day that perpetuates the boring age old narrative of heterosexual monogamy," says Sawayama of the '90s-flecked track, which combines retro R&B glossiness with her bristly, erratic future-pop stylings. (THELINEOFBESTFIT)

32. This Is America (Childish Gambino):

The sheer scope of Donald Glover’s body of artistic work is so incredible that he even made it into a gag in his opening monologue on Saturday Night Live. Music, movies, TV, unmade cartoons, writing—the list of his talents goes on and on. Starting as a playful hip-hop moniker, Glover’s Childish Gambino persona has evolved into something completely unexpected with his Grammy-winning third album, Awaken, My Love. On that release, he moved from rap to a falsetto-led collection of soul and R&B. But after the success of that pivot, he does so again with the jarring and brilliant “This Is America.” The song, and its accompanying video, is a surreal critique of race and violence in this country. (ESQUIRE)

33. No Tears Left To Cry (Ariana Grande):

a song of healing, written in response to the terrorist attack that took place near the end of Ariana Grande's 2017 concert in Manchester, claiming the lives of nearly two dozen people. The horror of that night, of course, deeply shook Grande. But half a billion streams later, it's clear that the song also speaks to a universal pain, a desire to move on, to reclaim happiness, sanity, a sense of self. "I'm lovin', I'm livin', I'm pickin' it up," she sings. And as we sing along, we hope we get there, too — at least for the next three-and-a-half minutes. (NPR)

34. Python (Miguel):

it may take a few spins for you to realize how stunning this track is but it only took me 30 seconds. Miguel’s next move might be checkmate.

35. Rosebud (US Girls):

"What is your Rosebud, you've got to know," asks the chorus of U.S. Girls' "Rosebud." It may be a reference to Orson Welles's Citizen Kane, in which a sled named "Rosebud" represented the abandoned innocence and happiness of Charles Foster Kane. This song itself has a haunting vocal aspect to it, like half-forgotten memories are worming their way into your subconscious. (ESQUIRE)

36. 4th Dimension (Kid See Ghosts feat, Louis Prima):

a crazy sample yes but here at last is the genius at work.

37. Rental (Brockhampton):

the crisp beats literally snap.

38. All The Stars (Kendrick Lamar & SZA):

For both artists, "All the Stars" is anomalous in its relative lack of self-consciousness: what happens when an awkward girl from New Jersey and rap's superstar nihilist 'do Hollywood'. The marching drums, the slow-climbing strings, the hook's expectant refrain that success may just be within reach, ring in affinity with the film's arc of triumph over adversity. (THELINEOFBESTFIT)

39. Make It Out Alive (Nao):

taking her cues from Kelela last year, Nao pours the soul deep in ths R&B jam deep.

40. Nappy Wonder (Blood Orange):

On the track, Dev Hynes looks back with slightly blurred feelings of nostalgia and despair as he flits between his past and present perspective. “I bust it up on Ilford Lane / A pleasure flip up to my grade”, he recalls as he sandwiches the innocence of his skateboarding youth between a chorus which provides apt commentary on past cultural norms; “feelings never had no ethics/feelings never have been ethical”. (THELINEOFBESTFIT)

THE TOP 100 SONGS OF 2018: PART THREE...

at the half-way point...

41. The Fool, Pt. 1 (Get It Got It Good) (Shad):

The big question Shad is trying to pose to his listeners is “What are you afraid of?” By embracing fear, rechanneling its inherent negative energy, and celebrating humanity in spite of it, “The Fool Pt. 1 (Get It Got It Good)” projects an unreserved joy and fearlessness to speak the truth. Shad’s timely return to music is a welcome respite in these dark times chock-full of bad news and negativity. Near the beginning of his comeback single, Shad emphatically states “Damn, it feels good to be back.” Given the positivity of The Fool’s message and urgency of the music, it’s hard not to agree. (DOMINIONATED)

42. Big Bad Wolf (Lil Wayne):

it’s been a while since he’s put down such monster verses, almost putting him out of breath.

43. Talkin 3 (Ty Segall):

musicians are always tinkering with versions of their songs but the obsessive Segall pulls forthn funk from this third iteration of a track we’ve had time and time before and it’s a cracker.

44. Fly (Low):

sparse, beautiful and haunting.

45. Americans (Janelle Monae):

the closing-arc of her current album, Monae sends out one defining critique of the way women continue to be marginalized.

46. Keep It Out (Half Waif):

As she often does, Plunkett builds up from a foundation of spry synthetic sounds: throbbing bass synth and a tittering drum machine anchor “Keep It Out.” Her featherweight voice, layered over top, is transfixing. Often, Plunkett’s words seem to catch in her throat, but the restraint of her delivery doesn’t erase its luster. Rather, the effect is like that of daylight filtered through stained glass—somewhat muted, but transformed into vivid colors. (PITCHFORK)

47. Spells (Jenny Hval):

A muted drum track cues Hval to deliver her glittering opening line, “You are your own disco ball.” Though she flirts obliquely with ideas about death and what comes after (far be it from Hval to let us forget our mortality), she does so in the tranquil tone of a lover laying out plans for next weekend. “You will not be awake for long,” she promises an unnamed partner. “We’ll meet in the smallest great unknown.” Hval builds gorgeous and full-bodied layers around this assurance, banishing any lingering darkness—her soft, ethereal scatting banters with an ambling saxophone riff, and slivers of synth and brass shine through a haze of backing vocal tracks. (PITCHFORK)

48. "Celebrate Me" (Jazz Buddafly):

perfectly blends soul with a declaration of self-worth.

49. "Paranoiac Intervals/Body Dysmorphia" (Of Montreal):

touching on themes of identity, disillusionment, and paranoia that Barnes has spoken about with regards to his lyrical inspiration for the new album. The inherent cultural tension over the past year has pushed Barnes to explore his anxieties about society and these worries are examined in his frayed vocal throughout the song. The funky disco synth contrasts the narrative direction of the track, offering an optimism amidst the anxiety, and despite a meandering structure, "Paranoiac Intervals/Body Dysmorphia" holds a clear sense of identity throughout. (BAEBLEMUSIC)

50. "Thank U, Next" (Ariana Grande):

If there’s a song that defines a summer of tabloids, it’s Ariana Grande’s “thank u, next.” The pop star has had a rough few years, which culminated in the doomed whirlwind romance with Pete Davidson and the tragic death of her ex-boyfriend Mac Miller. After the gossip sites went nuts with her sudden engagement to Davidson after a few weeks of dating in June, the relationship became the biggest entertainment news story of the summer. But, as abruptly as it started, the engagement was called off in mid-October about a month after Miller’s death. While Grande kept to herself after the break-up, Davidson used it as comedy material at appearances and on Saturday Night Live. In response, Grande released this empowering break-up anthem, which is at once a mature response to the tabloid drama and an affirmation of her own strength. (ESQUIRE)






51. Pyrex Princess (Azealia Banks): created amid her usual set of controversies but she’s found something vivid and new again.






52. Could It Be (Black Milk): when simplicity creates a big result.






53. Flight (Panda Bear): while his AC bandmates continue to struggle to find tempo, Lennox goes solo on a quiet EP and pulls out a winner.






54. Mr. Tillman (Father John Misty): Narratively, it’s yet another of Father John Misty’s semi-ironic tales. The verses are sung from the perspective of a hotel employee inquiring about Mr. Tillman’s rather eccentric behavior: leaving a mattress out in the rain, accusing other clientele of being movie extras. In the harmony-drenched chorus, Tillman blithely insists he’s fine, singing, “Don’t be alarmed, this is just my vibe.” Funnily enough, the characters we end up wanting to know most about on “Mr. Tillman,” like the clerk and a slyly name-checked Jason Isbell, aren’t “Mr. Tillman.”(PITCHFORK)






55. Greatest (Eminem): it’s a mid-life crisis moment but Em goes out swinging.






56. Hammer (Tune-Yards): The best reconciliation of think-piece and pop comes on “Hammer,” whose alluring bass and gang-sung refrains frame a poem about “living in a dream while the whole world cries.” (THEATLANTIC)






57. Washing Machine Heart (Mitski): rides tremendous emotional crests that translate to fantastic emo-pop music that questions itself as it entertains.






58. The Smoking Man (Quelle Chris & Jean Grae): mostly Quelle spitting out tight verses but the aura of Jean is never far away.






59. Pearly Gates (US Girls): turns a story of quotidian male cluelessness into a religious allegory, asking how a heaven controlled by men could ever be safe. (PITCHFORK)






60. Opener (Hookworms): cooked just right.

THE TOP 100 SONGS OF 2018: PART TWO...

the list resumes...













61. Smoke (Cautious Clay): if Frank Ocean captured the mood out in the gay streets two years ago then Clay’s “Smoke” sends up flares in the heterosexual perspective…it’s just as chilling.






62. Make Me Feel (Janelle Monae): Infectious from the get-go, the slinky bassline oozes, pulling you into the groove, while tasteful keyboard stabs and clean syncopated rhythm guitar riffs keep taking you further into the funk. There's such an ease to Janelle Monae's "Make Me Feel" — a fluidity, much like Monae's public persona — but make no doubt about it, there's nothing ambivalent about this song. It's all about confidence, knowing who you are, what you want and feeling empowered by that honest expression. A perfect blend of smart, sensual lyrics and physicality that can't do anything but make you feel... good. (NPR)







63. Espionage (Preoccupations): whoever saids rock was dead hasn’t been listening to this track.






64. Okra (Tyler, the Creator): an unapologetic hard banger celebrating Tyler’s many wins. A blown-out bass ushers in Tyler’s crooked, Valee-nodding flow, as he rolls through an ambulance of imperial lines. (PITCHFORK)






65. Oh My (Natalie Prass): Even reading the news turns into a heartbreaking activity, as she sings on opener ‘Oh My’, with slapped bass, sharp synths and filtered backing vocals creating an alluring funk base for the singer’s soft, forlorn voice. (THEQUIETUS)






66. OG Beeper (A$AP Rocky): slyly tying the past and current use of tehnology.






67. Rank & File (Moses Sumney): the closing track on an EP from Moses Sumney that was inspired by the first protest he ever attended. “It was in the fall of 2014, after a grand jury decided not to charge the offending officer in the Mike Brown murder, delivering the verdict just in time for them to get home for Thanksgiving,” Sumney explained. “I felt like a camouflaged outsider at the protest, like an anthropologist performing a study amongst his own kind.” The track has all the anxiety of a protest, that builds under a stifling military beat, and even references a Marine Corps marching cadence. “Now I don’t care what I’ve been told,” Sumney sings on the track. “This police state is much too cold.” A cold, sparse beat is driven by snaps and a menacing bass pulse that chillingly captures a perilous time in American history. (ESQUIRE)






68. Don’t Blame Me (Taylor Swift): Sonically speaking, there’s something deliciously sacrilegious about the track, with Taylor laying out that love-as-a-drug imagery over a thunderous gothic church soundscape which applies this album’s slick synthetic sheen to Hozier’s “Take Me to Church.” Her voice lilts over the thick, dark production, and she sounds every bit like the fully-realized adult pop star she aimed to be with her earlier singles. This time, the delivery fully lands. (SPIN)






69. Noid (Yves Tumor): at the heart of the genre-busting fantasia Safe in the Hands of Love, "Noid" represents a new acme in Yves Tumor's career-long contempt toward the idea of taxonomy. Torquing the stylings of the late Lil Peep — that is, pop-punk at a few removes — plus a breakbeat, a bit of Brit-poppiness and a lyric sheet with the pathos of a poem by Claudia Rankine, it's the producer's most vulnerable and voluble work by an exponent. And, despite the shredding and the braying and whinnying, the siren blares and the solar scuzz, it's also a lattice of forces so unified and destabilizing, they sound like they've always existed together in easy harmony. (NPR)






70. Doesn’t Matter (Christine and The Queens): In a year in which pop music—from Robyn to Ariana Grande—was making a powerful statement, singer Héloïse Letissier, who performs as Christine and the Queens, arrived from France to continue the conversation about gender and identity on Chris. On “Doesn’t Matter”—over bold poppy ’80s drums and sparkling synth—Héloïse bravely addresses the pressures of the masculine gaze, suicidal thoughts, and the nature of relationships and faith. It’s a heavy and important conversation to be having—especially in a song filled with as much buoyant French fun as this one. (ESQUIRE)






71. Ever Again (Robyn): erupts in colorful sounds and pulse-pounding rhythms. Meanwhile, Robyn sings of never being heartbroken again, the sort of preposterous fantasy that pop usually trades in. It almost lands as a joke about the easy pleasures she’s been referring to—and withholding—throughout. (THEATLANTIC)






72. Cameraman (Field Music): takes its time to build into a river of thoughtful brilliance.






73. Bartier Cardi (Cardi B feat. 21 Savage): in a way, feels like a celebration of her stunning rise. The lyric “Cardi got rich, they upset, yeah” has the swagger of one of her signature Instagram jeers. While Cardi is a great talker, her unique eloquence hasn’t always translated to her raps. Here, though, her phrases sway naturally, the same way her chatter does. She never minces words, and in these verses, her taunts and insults are even more cutting. “Them diamonds gon’ hit like a bitch on a bitch-ass bitch,” she exclaims, her accent thrusting every word forward. She’s more forceful and unambiguous as the song goes on, her tone dismissive, shouting things like “I’m poppin’ shit like a dude.” Even her ad-libs are kinetic. (PITCHFORK)






74. Moon River (Frank Ocean): Ocean’s version of “Moon River” trades Hepburn’s gentle sigh for bold and confident yearnings. As he warbles about the wild surrounding world, Ocean envisions his own self-realization through double-tracked new lines like “What I see, What I become.” Ocean’s only sin here is cutting the original’s detail about “my huckleberry friend,” a sweet allusion to the carefree innocence of childhood that feels right up his alley. (As he once sang, wisely, “We’ll never be those kids again.”) Ocean’s “Moon River” retains the enchanting comfort of the Hepburn original without sacrificing any of his genius. It’s the balm we never knew we needed. (PITCHFORK)






75. Midnight Summer Jam (Justin Timberlake): bears the fingerprints of Pharrell, both in its funky guitar line and its falsetto coos. The rising interjections of fiddles are one of the best efforts to approach country on the project, but otherwise this is a pretty classic JT groove that doesn't feel the need to change directions unnecessarily like much of The 20/20 Experience. (HOTNEWHIPHOP)






76. Willow House (Solomon Grey): wispy and witchy at the same time.






77. Headlow (Anderson .Paak feat. Norelle): the best example of the irrefutable funk mastery he has within on his new album.






78. Magazin (White Denim): maintains a summer sound, softly swaying in and out of 60's infused psychedelia and blues-y riffs that make your ear canals smile. (THELINEOFBESTFIT)






79. 36 Oaths (Gaika): now see, this here is how Brit acts should be tackling reggae/dancehall instead of overcooking everything.






80. Suspirium (Thom Yorke): While his bandmate Jonny Greenwood has been out there creating masterful scores for Paul Thomas Anderson movies, Thom Yorke’s music outside of Radiohead has been in the form of two solo albums and work with his side project Atoms for Peace. Now, Yorke is getting in on the soundtrack game, too, creating the music for Luca Guadagnino’s upcoming Suspiria. “Suspirium,” the first single from that soundtrack. has none of the psychological horror of the film’s early trailers. Instead, his song is a lonely piano ballad. This is heartbreaking, not horrifying. But as the frontman of a band whose music is the stuff of vast cinematic soundscapes, his voice is the perfect companion piece for film. (ESQUIRE)