The Top 30 ALBUMS of 2018: Part One (#21--30)...

There's a reason why consensus has been hard to get this year for best album: everybody stepped up. Some usually-expected names here but a lot of new names have emerged.

Here are my picks of the best:

21. Pusha T Daytona:

He’s one of the handful of street rappers who have been able to cross over to the corporate side with ease; Rick Ross and JAY are the only others who come immediately to mind. King Push’s lyrics lend credence to his truth-telling persona. On “Infrared,” he tells his truth once more, as he references the Cash Money sub-fest that is “Exodus 23:1” and re-ignites his beef with Drake. 2018 will be remembered as the year Pusha won, in every sense of the word. (COMPLEX)

22. Ariana Grande Sweetener:

Though some stans might disagree, Sweetener is Grande’s strongest work to date, thanks in large part to previous collaborator Max Martin and the legendary Pharrell Williams. The opening track, “Raindrops (an Angel Cried),” an interpolation of Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons’ “An Angel Cried,” is 38 seconds of chill-inducing bliss, with her pipes on full display. The rest of the album is less about her range and affinity for whistle tones, which is fine. We already know she can sing; on Sweetener, we finally get to hear Grande grow into her voice and give us more memorable work. (COMPLEX)

23. N.E.R.D No One Ever Really Dies:

what’s most striking about No_One Ever Really Dies: the way these former architects of Future Sound have become handmaidens to their past. The weaknesses on their previous records (other than Nothing, which every good N.E.R.D. fan ignores) came from ideas that pointed off in new directions even if they weren’t fully fleshed out. Here, even the better songs are recycled, as the band lives off blood infusions from its guestlist. Out of the game so long, the N.E.R.D. antennae have picked up on something extra-musical in the air, and crafted their old sound around it. (PITCHFORK)

24. Hookworms Microshift:

You would have to search far and wide to find a transformation in an already great band that works as well as this. The key to it all is the vulnerability that MJ is now willing to put on display, giving the newfound musical incisiveness the emotional fuel it needs to really fly. If this isn’t one of the albums of the year then we must be in for something special. (DROWNEDINSOUND)






25. Emma Ruth Rundle On Dark Horses:

She is crafting bold art that is bleak and brooding, yet devastatingly beautiful. More importantly, she is telling stories that must be told and heard. Even in the most terrible moments and in the darkest of times, she finds something from which strength can be obtained and lessons can be learned. She finds the pain that inflicts us all, yet she encourages us to not simply run away but to be the remedy to the infliction. To realize that we are not just riding On Dark Horses, but we are the dark horses. (THEREVUE)

26. Ty Segall Freedom’s Goblin:

In marveling at the sheer volume of Segall’s discography, it’s easy to overlook his growth as a writer. He’s often slotted alongside peers like Thee Oh Sees and King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard in the pantheon of garage-rockers with exploratory impulses and little regard for traditional promo cycles. But it’s more apt to mention him in the same breath as musicians like Robert Pollard, Ted Leo, or Elliott Smith—expert melody-makers who borrow liberally from the classic-rock canon, but reshape and demystify it in their own eccentric image. And on Freedom’s Goblin, the tuneful sensibility that Segall has been nurturing since 2011’s Goodbye Bread fully blossoms into sky-high hooks and rich, resonant lyricism, all while keeping his primordial spirit intact. (PITCHFORK)

27. Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever Hope Downs:

the band has tightened things up in just the right ways and come up with something magical. The guys in the band headed off to a remote area of Australia, bunkered down with producer Liam Judson, and refined their sound until it shone like a gem. More than before, the guitars have a spiky bite, the vocals come through clearly, the rhythm section has some kick, and every song feels like a hit. The first three songs, "An Air Conditioned Man," "Talking Straight," and "Mainland," are breathtaking guitar pop, built on the DNA of the Feelies, the Go-Betweens, and R.E.M. but given new life by the emotion the three songwriters and vocalists (Fran Keaney, Tom Russo, and Joe White) pour into the words and singing. Not to mention the thrilling interplay of their guitars; none of them are virtuosic, but the parts they play fit together as seamlessly as Lego pieces. (ALLMUSIC)

28. Leon Bridges Good Thing:

Bridges addresses the just and unjust objections to his first LP. Musical progression lines every seam, from the disco strut of ‘If It Feels Good (Then It Must Be)’ to the modern sheen of ‘You Don’t Know’. What’s more, he retains the timeless sparkle of ‘Coming Home’ but pushes the clock forward, this time pitching somewhere between 60’s-era Mad Men living rooms and present-day clubs. Opener ‘Bet Ain’t Worth The Hand’ could be handpicked from any previous decade, but the gentle guitar loops of ‘Shy’ owe a debt to Danger Mouse’s productions. He’s no longer directly indebted to the past. (NME)

29. White Denim Performance:

The colorful abundance of Performance is reminiscent of another guys-rocking-in-a-room album from earlier this year: Chicago psych bros Post Animal’s When I Think of You in a Castle, which fused skill and melody to similarly potent effect. But while Post Animal aren’t shy about venturing into heady territory, Performance finds White Denim sticking comfortably within the confines of more familiar classic rock sounds. The closest they get to entering a trippier realm is in the closing minutes of the sprawling “Fine Slime,” when a jammy, grimy groove starts to fade out, replaced by some errant noise. But then the grit returns at full blast. You can hear hints of the Beatles (don’t laugh) on the album, as well as blues-pop titans and fellow classic rock disciples the Black Keys, who leave an indelible imprint on opener “Magazin.” (PITCHFORK)

30. Virginia Wing Ecstatic Arrow:

Ecstatic Arrow is an album of fresh starts. Richards and Pillay recorded in the Swiss Alps, and while the connection between location and sound is often spurious, there is a heady clarity to the album that you might describe as “alpine” if that word hadn’t been ruined by men’s shower gel. Koto sparkles; swathes of synthesizer mist descend, then break, allowing incandescent pop choruses to break through; and the pair create ashram lusciousness from icy machines. Virginia Wing’s is an understated but familiar scramble of mid-’80s pop at its most avant-garde—Laurie Anderson’s sprechgesang, Peter Gabriel and Japan’s chilly hauteur; Kate Bush’s imposing dynamic and Malcolm McLaren’s impish reinvention—so if Ecstatic Arrow doesn’t feel quite like stepping into a new world, it at least returns us to an unspoiled glade. (PITCHFORK)

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.