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Decade End Lists

Kevin Morby – “Destroyer”

Of late, Kevin Morby has turned into a one-album-wonder for me.  I got into his music with 2016’s Singing Saw, from which “Destroyer” hails, and the album is a borderline classic in my opinion.  City Music and Oh My God followed in rapid succession with tepid results, failing to live up to the beauty of their predecessor.  But that’s okay when we’re talking about songs of the decade, because all you have to do is get hot once – and Kevin Morby absolutely hit the nail on the head with the gorgeous, jazzy folk of “Destroyer”.

Sometimes I wonder if the song title pays homage to Destroyer the artist, because at times it sounds like it belongs on Kaputt (for those following this series — foreshadow warning!), what with its blend of atmospheric indie-folk/pop and rich, textured jazz horns.  The song moves along very leisurely, Morby’s vocals floating without a care in the world atop a repetitive but elegant piano line. The turning point comes around the 2:30 mark when Morby elevates the emotion of the entire song with the line “And now I go down, towards the dirt…In which we died.”  From that point on it becomes the most gorgeous, sexy, and downtempo blend of lush indie-folk and jazz, this seductive intertwining of genres that is melodically pleasing and emotionally transformative.  The female backing vocals that brush up against the jazzier sections of the track are a subtle stroke of genius, added atop an already…

Silversun Pickups – “Skin Graph”

On the heels of 2009’s Swoon, Silversun Pickups’ trajectory over the course of the ensuing decade will depend on who you ask.  There’s a lot of staunch supporters of the band’s first two albums who feel that everything they’ve done since has been varying grades of disappointing.  For me, I think the band continued its ascension and peaked with 2012’s Neck of the Woods, an album that almost feels like being in a haunted house.  The themes are darker, the lyrics are creepier, and there’s even song titles like “Bloody Mary.”  The band really pursued its electronic ambitions here, without sacrificing too much of the raw grit that was noticeably absent on later albums like Better Nature.  For me, this is the quintessential Silversun Pickups release – and from this record, “Skin Graph” stands out like no other track.  It’s epic and sprawling, taking nearly half of its six minute run time to finally erupt into its long-anticipated chorus, one that is interrupted by guitar/drum interchanges that feel like a series of mini-breakdowns.  Afterwards, it drifts off into ambient territory, Aubert’s wispy vocals seemingly lost in the wind before it all comes charging back on the heels of tense, swelling electric riffs that re-open the floodgates to the song’s trademark melody.  Everything ratchets up a couple notches during the second lap, Aubert’s vocals sounding more urgent and frightened, the riffs louder, and the drumming more chaotic.  It’s the perfect opener for any SSPU album,…

Ariana Grande – “Into You”

On 2016’s Dangerous Woman, we witnessed Ariana turn a corner and hit her stride as an artist: one who became aware of her strengths and how to best utilize them.  Sure, Yours Truly and My Everything demonstrated flashes of brilliance, but even those moments sounded more like question marks than resounding statements – as if Grande was testing the water to figure out which end of the pool had just the right temperature.  It wasn’t until Dangerous Woman that is felt like she had it all figured out and was ready to throw everything she had at us.  “Into You” represents the culmination of her songwriting maturation, and better yet, it sounds astoundingly effortless.  It’s carefree reflection – a fun, flirty summer jam.

“I’m so into you I can barely breathe” is the breathy utterance that captivates us during the leading seconds of the track, and one can almost feel the sweat beading up on his/her forehead as the club begins to heat up.  “Close ain’t close enough, til we’ve crossed that line” has you feeling the magnetic draw of the person dancing with you, your bodies beginning to intertwine.  “Look what you started, the temperature’s rising in here…is this gonna happen?” It’s vintage Ariana, teasing us with her sultry vocals and suggestive lyrics until the upbeat chorus bursts through – “A little less conversation and a little more touch my body” – an excerpt that headlines a song destined for clubs and car rides alike. With a thumping, rhythm-driven backbeat, there is no shortage of danceability to…

Tame Impala – “Elephant”

I was late to the Tame Impala party, finally discovering them in 2017 through a co-worker who played ‘Elephant’ for me – and it blew my mind.  Who were these modern Beatles, playing their psychedelic hearts out, only to an even more addicting rhythm?  The sheer confidence and craftsmanship made me a fan immediately, and I proceeded to download all their other albums without so much as even giving any of their other songs a listen.  There’s only a handful of songs in the last decade that have had such an effect on me – it’s something we all experience, even if rarely – and it’s a damn fine feeling when it happens.

There’s a couple points where the song elevates its game.  The first is the synth break between the opening two verses, right after the whispered line (here he comes).  It’s such a refreshing moment on an album otherwise mired in abstract psychedelia (the best kind, mind you), and it takes up the entire middle of the track.  Speaking of which, it’s kind of a cool song structure: verse-synth breakdown-verse, with no actual “chorus” to speak of.  The second moment that I love is when they come back in with that final/second verse, where they add in some well-timed yeah‘s and alter the time signature and melodic progression.  It’s truly stuff of genius, yet they make it seem so easy – like they just decided mid-song to shake things up.  It’s astounding execution, and…

Glen Hansard – “Don’t Settle”

Oh hey, 2019 represent!  Sometimes a song is just too brilliant; too immediately impactful and emotionally profound to be placed on the back burner.  “Don’t Settle” falls into this category – a track that defines Hansard’s superb record This Wild Willing in such a way that putting off recognition is sheer folly.  This song has it all – from the sullen, Nick Cave reminiscent piano balladry early on to the brass horns that join the mix about halfway through – and then finally to the song’s emotional pinnacle and subsequent cathartic release of energy, where Hansard shouts into the surrounding emptiness like Roger Waters on ‘In The Flesh.’  It’s this transcendent moment where he doesn’t sound much like a folk artist at all…nope, two songs in to This Wild Willing, Glen Hansard is more like a modern day rock hero.

The track takes on even greater magnitude in the context of Hansard’s broader discography.  Understanding that he’s been a humble folk troubadour a la Damien Rice for most of his career helps illuminate exactly why his launching into emotionally wrought shouts should hit you like a freight train.  “Don’t Settle”, when it reaches this apex, is a gorgeous, epic, experimental indie-rock tour de force – and quite frankly one that came out of left field.  It’s an evolution from singer-songwriter to something more along the lines of post-folk – and the aftershocks of this moment ripple throughout This Wild Willing like a rock dropped…

St. Vincent – “Digital Witness”

When you’re a well-established musician, it can be difficult to surprise listeners and achieve success at the same time. St. Vincent’s self-titled record accomplishes that feat, and it’s in no small part due to “Digital Witness” – an expansive, artful pop masterpiece.

The lyrics are a scathing indictment of “the selfie age”: I can’t show it, if you can’t see me / What’s the point of doing anything?, and the song uses just about everything in its arsenal from a sonic perspective.  From the insanely infectious rhythm to the unprecedented prevalence of horns, the track immediately grabs your attention.  Annie Clark’s delivery is on-point, crafting one of the catchiest choruses in her entire discography with a layered and highly addictive vocal melody.  On top of that, the muted post-chorus (This is no time for confessing) adds yet another hook.  Basically, “Digital Witness” comes at listeners overflowing with insanely catchy qualities – from the instrumentals to the multiple melodic hooks – and it’s all wrapped up in a tidy three and a half minute package.

When I think of 2014, there’s no song that sticks out like this uniquely rhythm-driven pop song.  It’s telling that NPR ranked this as the #181 greatest song by a female or nonbinary artist in the 21st century.  Annie Clark is highly deserving of such recognition, and “Digital Witness” easily belongs on this decade list.

Read more from this decade at my homepage for Sowing’s Songs

The War on Drugs – “Eyes To The Wind”

If I were to choose the songs from 2010-2019 that make me feel the most free, in a sense that is entirely liberating and nearly indescribable, “Eyes To The Wind” could easily top that list.  Adam Granduciel allegedly wrote this song in only four minutes, in his kitchen, and the song flows with a kind of freedom that could only come from such a spontaneous, organic conception.  Although he reworked it over the course of thirty takes and five months – curating it to perfection – the gentle, breezy sway that serves as the track’s driving force remains intact, uninhibited by studio effects or overproduction.

“Eyes To The Wind” is simply a gorgeous piece of Americana, riding wave after wave of acoustic strums which are carefully underscored by elegant piano notes while Granduciel wistfully sings about returning home; his lines not all that symbolic on paper, but incredibly poignant amid the backdrop of lush folk: “There’s a cold wind blowing down my old road, down the back streets where the pines grow, as the river splits the undertows.”  It’s not a happy homecoming necessarily, as you can feel a forlorn/dejected weight upon his shoulders, a burden illuminated within the last few lines of the song: “As you set your eyes to the wind, and you see me pull away again / Haven’t lost it on a friend, I’m just bit run down here at the moment / Yeah, I’m all…

Gates – “Persist in Delusion”

We all have those bands that we look back on and wonder how in the world they didn’t take off.  I have quite a lengthy list of talented artists that I believe should be more popular than they are, but Gates has to be somewhere near the top of that list.  The band’s 2014 debut Bloom and Breathe was a hit on this site and within a few similar circles, but they really lacked exposure outside of those closed communities.  Their 2016 sophomore effort Parallel Lives was another excellent record, but still, Gates has evaded discovery by many. It’s a shame considering that they sound like the best traits of Thrice and Maybeshewill fused together.

“Persist in Delusion” is an especially strong track from the band, thriving on its shimmering guitars and the vocalist’s passionate, Kensrue-like delivery of that cathartic chorus: “don’t cry when everything that you love falls apart.”  The slight moment of pause before he launches into those words builds anticipation exceptionally well; a seasoned move from the at-that-time fresh faces.  The song builds gradually like something out of a post-rock playbook, eventually reaching a crescendo of intensely clashing drums, guitars, and emotional shouts of “all we had is a lie, come to find out.”  It’s a breathtaking soundscape that blends alternative rock, post-hardcore vocals, emo lyrics/delivery, and a post-rock progression/atmosphere.

When we look back on a decade full of some brilliant and innovative alternative rock (Thrice, O’Brother, Thursday), it’s easy to…

Let’s Eat Grandma – “Donnie Darko”

In terms of underrated pop artists this decade, few are as talented as the duo of Rosa Walton and Jenny Hollingworth – also known as Let’s Eat Grandma.  Perhaps that’s because they’re only 18 (17 at the time of this release) and their 2016 debut I, Gemini went largely unnoticed.  2018’s I’m All Ears started to change that just a little bit, as the band expanded its sonic palette from understated indie to more fully fleshed out art-pop.  The album is loaded with fun electro-pop jams, but there’s three towering epics that define the group’s artistic evolution: the 6 minute “Snakes & Ladders”, the 9 minute “Cool & Collected”, and the 11 minute curtain call “Donnie Darko.”  Of these main pillars, it’s “Donnie Darko” that stands out most as the duo’s claim to decade immortality.

“Donnie Darko” is a towering, absolutely magnificent collage of experimentation.  It transitions through several stages, beginning with a gradual keyboard-underscored guitar intro that builds in intensity until the notes become more vibrant and are joined by handclaps.  The song isn’t afraid to leave large swaths vocal-less, finding itself content to sink effortlessly into the lush pool of electronically-washed guitars and keyboards, which mesh brilliantly.  By the middle of the song, the vocals re-appear – a confident yet nearly stuttered delivery.  Synths glide in around the 6-minute mark, and suddenly we’re in dream-pop territory.  Eventually, all the instruments begin to clash together in a grand cacophony, and the song…

Sturgill Simpson – “Breakers Roar”

Country music wouldn’t get such a bad rap if there were more Sturgill Simpsons in the world.  Simpson is everything that’s right with country music, and “Breakers Roar” is easily one of the most gorgeous songs that I’ve ever heard.  The strings here swell and ache in gorgeous entanglement, and their tropical sway makes you feel lost at sea – an atmosphere that plays a large role in helping to define A Sailor’s Guide to Earth‘s overarching aesthetic.  It’s a simple song for sure – there’s no unexpected twists – but the song immediately absorbs your imagination and transports you.  It possesses such a sublime aura, and when I listen to it I find myself drifting off…my muscles relaxing and my mind gently winding down.  Simpson’s smooth serenade weaves in and out of the music like light beaming through the depths of the ocean; I’d say it’s enough to put you to sleep but it’s not boring at all, it’s just mesmerizingly beautiful.  The lyrics for the entire album are inspired, as the “Guide to Earth” is Simpson’s way of teaching his newborn son life lessons through music.  Here, they’re at their most poignant: “Shatter illusions that hold your spirit down / Open up your heart and you’ll find love all around.”

“Breakers Roar” is the song that helped me turn the corner from barely appreciating country-pop to fully realizing the beauty that real country has to offer.  A Sailor’s Guide to Earth is an…

Carly Rae Jepsen – “Run Away With Me”

For the longest time, I never understood the fascination surrounding Carly Rae Jepsen.  She writes cute, catchy 80’s influenced pop songs…and it’s not like she’s the first or even the best to do so.  Like any self-assured heterosexual man should, I jammed out to “Call Me Maybe” every time it came on the radio – of course – but her music was little more than a guilty pleasure.  The intuitive statement that comes next should be a short anecdote about how Emotion changed my perceptions, and how really she grew as an artist and expanded her boundaries…but I still just don’t see it, at least not the way others do.  She’s merely a saccharine, surface-level pop artist who can craft a mean hook, but my conclusion here is basically this: so what?

“Run Away With Me” is probably the catchiest pop song in the last 10 years, and if it’s not the catchiest then it’s certainly one of the most compelling.  This track is the queen of summer bangers, a song whose upbeat dynamics and seductive lyrics make it irresistible aesthetically and intellectually.  From the moment the synths glide in to the gradual soft-loud progression that spans the first minute of thumping beats, it’s a song that immerses your senses in this neon youth; a glowing representation of what it means to be young and in love – to be the life of the party – to own the night.  Jepsen’s lyrics…

Justin Timberlake – “Mirrors”

The 20/20 Experience changed the way I view pop.  That may be a bit of a naive take, but it’s true based on my late introduction to modern music (I was that kid in high school who was obsessed with 70’s rock) and the fact that the album – especially Part 1 –  is genuinely one of the best collection of songs to come out within the last 10 years, if not longer.  I never viewed pop as a style that would have an album overflowing with 6-9 minute tracks; 20/20 does.  I never expected pop to experiment at a high artistic level, nor for it to be half as catchy as the entirety of 20/20  is.  It took my tiny, cliched definition of what I thought pop should be and blew the doors off of it.

“Mirrors” may not be the most elaborate song that JT composed for this two-part opus, but it’s probably the most meaningful.  From its gorgeous introduction to lyrics dripping with romantic intent, “Mirrors” postures itself as the best love song – best breakup song – best wedding song – best forlornly-looking-through-old-photographs-of-an-ex – best anything relationship song.  It’s 8 minutes in length but doesn’t feel anywhere close to that, gliding smoothly across its runtime while seamlessly transitioning from rhythmic verses to its soaring chorus; then to a string-laden midsection into what I feel is one of the more underrated portions of the whole experience: that prolonged “you are the love

The Roots – “Stomp/Lighthouse”

I have a special relationship with The Roots that I don’t have with very many artists, much less of the hip-hop variety.  They were the first “rap” that I ever listened to on my own.  Purchasing Game Theory from F.Y.E. when I was in high school is still fresh in my memory; I can remember how excited I was to get my hands on it with my friends who were more interested in the new Seether, or something else pretty terrible.  I jammed out to The Roots in a way that I’d never done before with this particular genre – they were essentially my gateway.  It also helps that they’re from my hometown, and I’ve not only seen them perform live, but also just walking around the streets of Philadelphia.  They’ve always been super down-to-earth; one with the neighborhood and people.

College would come and go, and I eventually found myself swept with the overwhelmingly positive message of How I Got Over, an album that helped me relate to – and in some small senses, help – teens in a juvenile correction facility while I taught there.  The band followed me from the classroom to the professional workplace, so their work was always a cause for excitement.  They’re as much a part of my life as Brand New, mewithoutYou, Manchester Orchestra, and all my other favorite “indie-rock” bands.

So when The Roots turned around only one year after How I Got Over with undun

Coheed and Cambria – “Key Entity Extraction I: Domino The Destitute”

When I fell in love with Coheed and Cambria, it was a swoon over their heavier side: Claudio Sanchez’s bitter lyrics in “Welcome Home”, the epic waves of electric riffs, and the complex solo spanning the latter portion of the song.  That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy me some lighthearted bops, because Coheed has a wide selection of those as well, but sometimes first impressions mean everything.  Coheed, to me, was f’n badass.

That’s why No World for Tomorrow and Year of the Black Rainbow registered as minor disappointments – and I stress minor because they’re both still solid outings.  But strong singles like the former’s title track and the latter’s “Here We Are Juggernaut” aside, they lacked that oomph, that extra push of raw grittiness that made me a fan from the time I first laid ears on “Welcome Home.”  That’s where 2012’s The Afterman: Ascension comes in, and the for-all-intents-and-purposes lead track “Domino The Destitute.”  Just as my interest in the band was beginning to wane, they burst out of a melodic haze of mediocrity with this 8-minute, guitar-thrashing epic showdown, where everything that I first loved about the band snapped back into focus.

“Domino” is an absolute beast of a song; it rides in on elongated riffs and pummeling drums, and Sanchez’s vocals are packed with emotion right from the start.  The chorus is one of their most infectious ever, and it feels like…

There Will Be Fireworks – “River”

Singing loud enough to wake the dead, not enough now that you’ve left

There’s a lot of factors that go into making great music, and too often I believe we focus on the wrong things.  Intricacy and technical prowess can only get you so far; the best bands in the world aren’t the ones that shred the fastest, create the most complex drum fills, or experiment the farthest with electronics.  They’re the ones that can tap into our human side and appeal to our vulnerability, to serve as a reminder that we’re not alone in our experiences – whatever they may be.  Only a few bands have “it”, and There Will Be Fireworks are one of them.

For proof I’m going to look no further than “River”, the second track on the group’s surprisingly underground The Dark, The Bright – an album that deserved all of the acclaim in the world and for some reason got ignored.  “River” is not a track you can easily shake after hearing it once: it comes rushing in on the heels of “And Our Hearts Did Beat”, and you can immediately tell that the song can’t wait to explode. And it doesn’t take very long to indulge, either – just after the 1 minute mark, singer Nicky McManus belts out, “We used to talk, you used to have me round…I used to sing for you” and you can feel the desperation dripping from every word.  From that…

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