THE TOP 100 SONG OF 2023 (PART FIVE)...

 

The finale---and what a great batch to close out the year!

1. A&W (Lana Del Rey): 

maximum Lana Del Rey: a sweeping, seven-minute epic that follows the sunburned, SoCal folk rock she’s perfected on recent albums back to the hip-hop-inspired pop productions of her early discography. That musical scope is paired with a narrative that’s no less ambitious — vulnerable and lurid, nostalgic and hopeless, funny and utterly bleak. “A&W” tells a story, paints a picture, communicates something ineffable about sex, identity, perception, power, exploitation, girlhood, womanhood, and class. s. And the bow tying it all together? The name of classic root beer brand, “A&W” used as shorthand for “American Whore,” because no one bends American iconography to their will like Lana Del Rey. (ROLLING STONE) 

2. Y.B.P (Danny Brown feat. Bruiser Wolf):

 the beat for “Y.B.P” is a bit goofy and brings to mind early Insane Clown Posse but, as Brown knows well, ICP is a Detroit institution. The song is glowing with the personality and local color that’s missing from many of these songs (Bruiser Wolf hilariously sums up the state of Michigan thusly: “It’s hard to fit in the murder mitten like O.J.’s glove”). (STILL LISTENING) 

3. Jenn’s Terrific Vacation (Danny Brown): 

a comment on Gentrification that was released as the final single, pinpoints all the classic signs that a gentrified neighbourhood carries, from organic food spots to White Girls and hard seltzers. It’s also the most fun the production gets, tapping into tones familiar with ‘Atrocity Exhibition’. (PITCHFORK) 

4. Namesake (Noname): 

producer Slimwav’s sonorous funk bassline and forceful percussion set the tone for some of the most inspired rapping of the year. “’Cause if you want some money you can say that/You deserve the payback, these niggas took everything,” she spits, seemingly addressing other Black entertainers, less agitated by the single-minded ambition to deepen their pockets than by the fact that they’re pretending otherwise. (PITCHFORK) 

 

5. So Typically Now (U.S. Girls): 

the song opens with a pummeling electronic drumbeat, then slides into a strutting synth melody as Remy casts a side-eye at the “traitors with loans” that “run this show.” Remy is no stranger to oblique anti-capitalist critiques, but this one feels more than a little tongue-in-cheek: “Gotta sell all my best to buy more, not less,” she sings, hinting at her own complicity. “See you someday in heaven.” With a soaring outro that sounds lifted straight from Robin S., this disco-house banger is more fun than socio-economic commentary has any business being. It might hit different if you’ve just closed on that cute three-bedroom cottage on the Hudson, but maybe that’s the point. (PITCHFORK) 

6. Scaring The Hoes (JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown):

 JPEGMAFIA, a genre-straddling iconoclast himself, shares Brown’s pharmaceutical appetites and distaste for culture-industry dross. A veteran of the U.S. Air Force and Baltimore punk clubs, he’s cultivated a comparably broad audience by contrasting frenetic glitch-hop with meme-fluent snark. Their collaborative full-length, Scaring the Hoes, produced entirely by JPEG, is a vehicle for the duo’s irreverent humor and energy that captures a pair of spitballing pranksters who nevertheless maintain perfect GPAs. (PITCHFORK) 

7. Brooklyn Bazquiat (Danger Mouse & Jemini The Gifted One): 

and they say old school hip/hop is dead! 

8. The Tide Is My Witness (Cautious Clay): 

it’s not easy to blend the past with current beats for one smooth, yet great, soul interpretation but here we are. 

9. Low (SZA): 

the soundtrack to modern day romance…nah, this is hook-up coda 101. 

10. Sweeper’s Grin (Avey Tare): 

retains the hazy, searching qualities of classic AnCo songs like “Visiting Friends” or one of the longer tracks on Campfire Songs. Building in echoes, the track nearly folds in on itself, but in its final minute strips down to a recording of flowing water. It sticks the landing. (BEATS PER MINUTE) 

11. Begin Again (Jessie Ware): 

Ware has continued her trend of upbeat pop defiance, and in the wake of such brilliance comes a truthful, disco-revolving pop track. Ballroom brilliance, tinges of electronic sharpness mixed with a defiant, layered beat. Nothing short of sensational work, a call to arms for those stuck working all day, all night with charm spilling over. (CULT FOLLOWING) 

12. Shut Yo Bitch Ass Up/Muddy Waters (JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown): 

noise rap is always a confrontation, seeking to either push you to the brink or pull you in closer, and the tenor of the taunting here leans toward the latter. "You satire, camp fires to Al-Qaeda / I'm like the only lighter in Rikers," Brown raps on "Shut Yo Bitch Ass Up / Muddy Waters" in one of many verses full of numb-faced, narcotic oversharing. JPEG navigates similar signifiers from a more aggrieved perspective. (NPR) 

13. All The Clubs Are Broken (Animal Collective): 

the playful, boyish charm is obvious. 

14. Wild Animals (Liv. e):

 tossing off experimental gems like this as if it was not anything. 

15. LLYLM (Rosalia): 

as if last year did not gag us enough. 

16. Quiet Eyes (Sharon van Etten): 

perfectly suited for the Past Lives soundtrack, van Etten paints little dots of reflective happiness within the bleak production. 

17. Garbage Pail Kids (JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown): 

“n****s don’t rap no more, they just sell clothes / So I should probably quit and start a line of bathrobes,” quips Danny Brown on “Garbage Pale Kids,” while samples of Japanese advertisements all but drown him out. Brown may have just marked his transition to middle age on Quaranta but, if anything, on this standout from his full-length collaboration with JPEGMAFIA—SCARING THE HOES—he sounds another 40 years away from cashing out. He trades irreverent verses with Peggy and cackles his way through the joyous and janky production, which here means the guitar tone equivalent of a deep-fried meme. As a marketing strategy, the aesthetic might put off even the boldest faux-ironic influencers, but it’s a damn good way to sneak a noise rock rager into one of the year’s best hip-hop tracks. (PASTE) 

18. Miami (Caroline Rose): 

the most heart-breaking song of the year—not only relationship-wise but when that line about her parents matter-of-fact telling her that she needs to live better because theyre in the last act of life, it really hits home. 

19. Binoculars (Shabazz Palaces feat. Royce The Choice): 

a simple interpolation on what this collective does best. 

20. Often (Doja Cat): 

a melodic masterpiece that blends Doja Cat's signature sultry vocals with a mesmerizing beat. The lyrics delve into themes of desire and longing, striking a chord with listeners who can relate to the complex emotions the track conveys. (ILLUSTRATE MAGAZINE)

The Top 30 ALBUMS of 2023: Part Two (#11--20)...

 

Part two of the year's best albums:

11. Cautious Clay KARPEH: 

an immensely realized and rich embodiment of his jazz influences, something that had felt sorely absent from his debut. ‘Ohio’ mines his childhood in Cleveland for inspiration, atop the kind of saucy bassline Thundercat would be envious of; ‘The Tide Is My Witness’ is meticulously arranged, a superb fusion of dexterous playing and his light pop melodies. The through-line in his songwriting – centred on his family’s journey and history – that proves most arresting and memorable. On ‘Karpehs Don’t Flinch’, a stuttering sax solo is bookended by voice notes discussing Clay’s grandfather and the prejudices he faced towards his African heritage. In the final chapter’s ‘Unfinished House’, Clay nods to the tribulations of his paternal grandfather’s relationship with his marriage, children and the construction projects he left to flounder. These moments, struggles and joys give ‘Karpeh’ its potency. (NME) 

 

12. RAYE MY 21^ST CENTURY BLUES: 

Raye's is a versatile, acrobatic soprano often enlivened with a shiver of falsetto. Layers of her gorgeous harmonies build into a wave over a metallic, relentless clack of tech percussion, never more so than the bittersweet duet with Mahalia, Five Star Hotels. Somewhere between the rave club, exploratory electro, RnB, bluesy jazz and soul, Raye has carved her own space and while it's a familiar cocktail, she owns it entirely. This is the soundtrack to a woman kicking free of the restrictive crush of her first record label Polydor, which she claims wouldn't let her release a debut album after seven years. (THE TELEGRAPH) 

 

13. Olivia Rodrigo GUTS: 

When she burst onto the world stage with her 2021 debut SOUR, a still-teenaged Olivia Rodrigo was suddenly one of the biggest pop stars in the world. If you can believe it, there's probably some pressure that comes with that. Fortunately, GUTS is the opposite of a sophomore slump: an impressive mix of tender ballads and pitch-perfect pop-punk that captures the highs and lows of adolescence and young adulthood with more honesty, empowerment and artistry than any Netflix teen movie. You could credit the earnestness and authenticity of Rodrigo's music for her ability to win fans among teenage girls and fully grown, snobby music bros and everyone in between — but really, it's just because pretty much every song on GUTS is flat-out excellent. (EXCLAIM) 

 

14. Sampha LAHAI: 

sees Sampha figuring out how to navigate this brave new world by forging links with his past (fitting, considering its title is taken from his paternal grandfather’s name, which is also his middle name). He sounds self-aware and conscious of the impact his words and actions can have—both on the people in his life and the larger world around him. Joan Didion once said that “we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.” Lahai is an album that exemplifies that principle, as we see Sampha accepting responsibility and stepping into his future by evaluating the life’s path he’s walked so far and reconnecting with his innermost self. “Can’t we go back to how we were before?” he pleads on “Suspended” before answering his own shout into the void on “Can’t Go Back”: No, but “you can move forward slower.” (PASTE) 

 

15. Troye Sivan SOMETHING TO GIVE EACH OTHER: 

this is the space where Sivan is at his most human, something we haven’t wholly gotten in one of his records. He isn’t a showy singer, by any means, which he uses to his advantage. Throughout the album, he sings with a chilled poise, a testament to his growth and confidence in himself. The fact that he stays confined to a few octaves would normally draw ire from pop fans seeking flash and bombast; here, it’s his strong suit, making the album conversational and specific. “Something” may be rooted in the gay experience, but the sentiment is universal, and Sivan communicates it directly to listeners like a confessional. (VARIETY) 

 

16. Lana Del Rey DID YOU KNOW…

:it’s rare that a performer has to vouch for her own genuineness, as Del Rey does on occasion here. But she has been a scourge, in some circles, leaving the rest of the pop world rooting for the anti-heroine. In the end, here, there is some irony, but it’s not in her persona — it’s in how the woman who changed her name to a nom de plume in the early stages of becoming a star ends up titling the first song on an album “The Grants,” and proceeding autobiographically from there. And open-heartedly, too. Lana Del Rey, accused for so long of striking a pose, may ironically be the most naked, least affected pop superstar we have right now. That’s something worth putting on a billboard. (VARIETY) 

 

17. Animal Collective ISN’T IT NOW?: 

nostalgia has always been a part of Animal Collective’s appeal: as with Brian Wilson or Syd Barrett, the quest for childlike perspectives was at the heart of their costuming. But the inherent naivety was met with sinister implications. The alien worlds they conjured allowed for the realization of cosmic horror, their Strawberry Jam could turn as sour as it was sweet, the dancing manatees overwhelm their human audience in sheer physical force. The deeper they ventured into their ocean, the more they welcomed hideous deep sea oddities. On Isn’t It Now?, the group abandons those implications in exchange for a deep, melancholic wistfulness that allows new listeners in. Where Centipede Hz, Spirit they’re gone… and Feels felt like partaking in a Willy Wonka facility tour (candy-casualties included), this newest effort is more interested in exploration than invention. Like following the development of a Miyazaki, there’s a sense of wonder to a fantastical realm, which harmonizes in a dreamlike logic. Emotional archeology, for beginners and experts alike, it resides among the group’s five best efforts. (BEATS PER MINUTE) 

 

18. Jamila Woods WATER MADE US: 

Woods brings irreverence, flexibility, and discipline to her writing, taking her time with each phrase and word placement. As a poet she needs to be clear, even if the lessons are uncertain. The steadfast quality of her lyricism brings to mind the pen games of others who have looked love squarely in the face and admitted it changed them: Carolyn Franklin, Stevie Nicks, SZA. This lineage of songwriters shares a fascination with the immediate aftermath of love—the morning after the breakup or the seconds following the revelation of infidelity. It’s not the sweeping emotions that compel them, but the moment in between separation and starting over. (PITCHFORK) 

 

19. Slowthai UGLY: 

self-reflection is an obvious key theme here, mixed up from a cocktail of a nationwide lockdown and taking up therapy and re-learning life lessons he’d already known. “Sooner” comes to the epiphany that striving to be liked by everyone is tiring. The cleverly narrative “Fuck It Puppet”, the word given by his therapist for the self-destructive imp sat on his shoulder following the same format as “Yum” – a voice in which he is fighting with. The woozy “Falling” poses the recurring question “You ever feel like falling? / You ever feel like you’re drifting through space?” meanwhile “Never Again” is a tale of pulling a council estate kid out of his environment and placing him in the metaphorical millionaire boys club, only for him to still be stuck in his roots, nothing changed or altered. (THE LINE OF BEST FIT) 

 

 

 

20. Yaeji WITH A HAMMER: 

Yaeji has said that With a Hammer, her full-length debut, was created in a maelstrom: suppressed childhood memories, rolling waves of alienation, anger at increased violence against Asian Americans, revelations during the Black Lives Matter uprisings of 2020, that euphoric pique when you finally realize you’re really not as small as the world would have you believe. In an accompanying 111-page booklet of her artwork, outfit photos, and song sketches, she includes an epic comic about a wizard dog that helps her unleash her anger—it emerges through her mouth in hammer form, of course—and the concept is both sweet and unexpectedly moving. In her own fury she locates creativity and beauty, experimentation and scrutiny, acerbity and warmth. In destruction, hammers create anew, and Yaeji seeks her own kind of rebirth, venturing musically beyond the club and finding deliverance in the sound of her voice. (PITCHFORK)