This album could be Ichiko Aoba’s identity crisis, though on the subtlest of terms. I could be projecting. There just seems to be less of… her on it; but, in all fairness, that’s contingent on the singer being personally defined by a voice and permeable space, not also the denser surrounding arrangements and instrumental narratives. Which might be a bit unreasonable. While I’ve mostly known Aoba’s music to feel cloistered — burrowed in contentment, mostly alone — this album is one of a select few cases where the singer achieves a sort of induced wanderlust, though still often doubling back on the realization of self. “Prologue” sounds like meditating mid-air in a failed zeppelin as it disintegrates in slow motion, and pardon the silly specificity. “Pilgrimage” sounds like a world’s worth of joy failing to directly resolve a deep, esoteric personal anguish, and instead fortifying the gaps around it. “Dawn in the Adan” is resilient, and one of the more grounded pieces, even as Aoba’s voice soars. It’s weird to say this as someone who’s made a bit of a hobby of overanalyzing songs, but Windswept Adan is somewhat of a rare case, where superfluous words can indeed do a disservice (more so than I’d normally admit, anyway). I don’t want to talk about it much, as I’d much rather listen to it; and, I don’t…
I worry, listening to and writing about Circles, that I contribute unhelpfully to the celebration and mythologisation of the young, dead artist. I was never a particularly big Mac Miller fan — total discretion, I’m still not — but I think that, like much of the rapper’s expansive, largely unreleased catalogue (ask Rowan), Circles has much to offer. This is in spite of Miller’s death, not because of it. Ideally, Miller would still be alive; he would not have succumbed to his addiction; Circles would have received some kind of follow-up. As his (unfortunate) finale, however, the album feels remarkably conclusive. Not because it stands out in any particular way from the rest of his discography, but rather, because it doesn’t. That is, Circles doesn’t feel, necessarily, like the end of Mac Miller. Chronologically, yes (unless someone were to sort through the hundreds of unofficial loosies [expect, maybe, a wave of fan-made mixtapes]). Ultimately, though, as a continuation of Miller’s gradual shift into funk-inspired R&B, Circles does not (like many posthumous albums) feel at all out of place, or like an awkward cap on what the artist was doing, or where he was going. Its magic is that it could and does work either way. There’s significant comfort in that. –BlushfulHippocrene
One of the biggest surprises of the year, We Are Chaos sees Marilyn Manson entering a new chapter in his life, reinventing himself as a glitter Goth cowboy. Filled with mature reflections and a newfound peace of mind, the frontman seems at his most relaxed in his skin so far. His partnership with Shooter Jennings brought the best in him, often covering the bluesy mindset of The Pale Emperor with a sweet country flavor. Overall, the results are miles away from most of his albums, yet this unexpected twist came together with a rejuvenation. Whereas a bit hard to digest for a fair number of fans, the LP is actually a major grower featuring some of his most layered tracks in a long time. There is something for everyone here, as each song boasts a catchy groove — whether aggressive or mellow — and the storytelling is kept to the point, making for an enjoyable record. –Raul Stanciu
To me, Katie Crutchfield’s career floundered after Cerulean Salt, a record I was obsessed with upon its release, especially the affecting closer “You’re Damaged”. Saint Cloud, then, represents a revitalization of the Waxahatchee brand for me as well as for Crutchfield, recently sober and in love with…
2020 hasn’t been a great year for much of anything… music was no exception. This is my favorite of what they decided to release during this dumpster fire. 2021 might be marginally better in the same way getting punched in the face a second time isn’t nearly as jarring as the first punch you didn’t see coming. Drink up!
**A laid back extension of their ’80s goth/synthpop style with more guitars and steady rhythms pretty much from beginning to end. While the unpredictable shifts in tone and experimentation from The Assassination of Julius Caesar is missed, this is still a solid effort from the wolves of Norway. Flowers of Evil is a dark yet inviting “pop” album and a highlight of 2020 music. — TalonsOfFire
Until now, it never felt like Ulver had created the same album twice. On Flowers of Evil, though, they pick up right where The Assassination of Julius Caesar left off, except with less experimentation and no real surprises. Having said that, I’ve always liked Ulver more when they use vocals and I’m also a big Depeche Mode fan. This album is 90s-era Depeche Mode with a bit of an Ulver twist.
It’s the conclusion of yet another interesting year in this, um, “unique” corner of the internet. Our site’s aesthetics may be firmly entrenched in 2010, but this “best of” feature ushers 2020 out of our collective memories. For many of us that brings immense relief, even if most of the same issues that plagued this year will follow us right into January. Still, there are reasons for optimism as we delve further into this still young decade. One of them is how music stepped up to the plate in a time of crisis. It’s during humanity’s most trying times that art seems to give us the most hope, and from invigorating protest music to pensive quarantine albums, musicians acted like first responders to our emotional needs in 2020.
Everyone’s way of navigating this crazy, chaotic year was different – a fingerprint consisting of our own unique challenges. Personally, I found myself relating to mellow folk (and even country!) as an escape from the psychological stresses caused by the pandemic and its consequences, but it’s just as understandable for others to have taken solace in elated pop, metal, or woke hip-hop (and there’s a little of each here!). It was all we could do not to sink into despair, basically. That’s part of the reason I decided to, at least temporarily, retire my Sowing’s Music Awards shtick (2014-2019, RIP) – replete with its “worst album” and “biggest disappointment” categories…
lol owned u guys so hard. April fools! get rekt losers!!
Can’t give y’all the decade list just yet (altho expect it soon!). Instead, here’s the next best thing: the OFFICIAL Sputnikmusic Staff’s ranking of the Top 50 Songs of 2018!
Me and the boys have been working hard on refining this since November of ’18, arguing intently for months on end as to which song belongs where, whether some of us listen to too much K-pop, where robertsona’s blurbs are, and so on. Nonetheless, I assure you that the below ranking is as accurate as we can possibly get it and we hope you guys appreciate the work.
I’d note in advance for you that some of the blurbs may be a little dated at this point (but really, I feel like you guys won’t even notice). Anyway, much love from all of us, and stay safe out there (note: for most of you, “out there” should be inside)!
50. “Baby Pink” – Moe Shop
This one radiates good vibes, and idk I just feel like the next few years are gonna be smooth freakin’ sailing for everyone.
49. “The Joke” – Brandi Carlile
Just a funny song about crackin’ silly jokes with the fellas. This would actually be so fitting for a list published on April Fool’s day, but sadly this list will
“A lot’s gonna change in your lifetime / try to leave it all behind / in your lifetime / let me change my words / show me where it hurts.” If there’s a thesis statement for Titanic Rising, this closing sentiment to opener “A Lot’s Gonna Change” is surely it. Or, wait: maybe it was “Waiting for the call from beyond / waiting for something with meaning / to come through soon”, the brutally searching coda of “Picture Me Better.” “Don’t cry, it’s a wild time to be alive?” “No one’s ever going to give you a trophy for all the pain and the things you’ve been through / no one knows but you?” That’s the problem with Natalie Mering’s fourth album as Weyes Blood; there’s a wealth of options to choose from in what represents a stunning crescendo for this steadily rising artist, a peculiarly out-of-time musical capsule that is still very much of 2019 in its anxieties and hopes. What I keep coming back to is something more fundamental, the crux of Titanic Rising‘s struggles with modernity and its dissection of all-American tropes then – “when no good thing could be taken away” – and now, where Natalie Mering’s crisis is so much more simpler: “I’m so scared of being alone, it’s true, it’s true.”
Drink it up. Blood is both healer and reaper in clipping.’s horrorcore art piece, a masterstroke which arranges stretched skin and body parts into fragments of stories, quickening our pulses with the adrenaline while never letting us off the hook for enjoying ourselves while human beings lose their lives. Daveed Diggs is the perfect rapper to walk this fine line. He intones like a robot in the second person, but writes like peak Stephen King, sinking into his characters completely and placing them in the context of their messy, insane, damaged lives. At its best, when clipping. combine ear-splitting harsh noise with banging rap, when Diggs marries existential and physical horror with unbelievable flows, There Existed an Addiction to Blood recalls, of all things, the fantastic digital age-anxiety attack of Childish Gambino’s “II. Zealots of Stockholm (Free Information)”.
So we end up with something like a concept album broken down into freeze-frame images, leaving the listener to fill in the blanks as clipping. love us to. Does the former student in “He Dead” buy silver bullets because he knows the werewolf of “Story 7”? Is the poor, doomed kid of the uncomfortably immersive “Run For Your Life” the one being displayed in a Deep Web red room in “The Show”? Is the suicidal meditation ritual outlined in “Attunement” a counterpoint to “All In Your…
Bon Iver decides to look outward now, a nice evolution from the introverted and elusive nature of 22, A Million. His latest is a bit more inviting and less fragmented, while maintaining the unique sounds of Million. More than ever, Justin Vernon sounds more open here, crooning of his belief in album highlight “Faith” and generally providing a brighter musical tone. The vulnerable nature of “Hey, Ma” and “Marion” recall the more traditional nature of Bon Iver’s earlier work, but like many other tracks, they end just as you become familiar with them. i,i feels like a series of vignettes from a certain point of view; a kaleidoscope of moments in time that capture feelings, important events, and revelations with his usual quirky lyrical style and fusing of musical styles and tones. –Benjamin Kuettel
There’s never been anything particularly flashy about Kristian Matsson’s music. Simplicity and a raw earnestness have been the Swedish songwriter’s calling card for well over a decade, lightly touched up by sparse, elegant instrumentation and a seesaw wail of a voice that has, over the years, matured into an incisive, finely-honed blade. Nearly a decade after 2010’s seminal The Wild Hunt, I Love You. It’s a Fever Dream encapsulates everything that Matsson still does…
Frances Quinlan is a rare breed. Few vocalists can turn a melody in as many directions, alternating between raspy falsetto and out-of-breath shouts in a way that sounds both melodically pleasing and emotionally poignant. But we already knew that about Quinlan, thanks to 2012’s Get Disowned and 2015’s even bigger Painted Shut; this year’s masterpiece only augments her growing legend. Bark Your Head Off, Dog remains loyal to Frances’ most endearing quirks, yet expands Hop Along’s elastic bounds with more complex and refined instrumentation, elaborate texturing, and its cleanest, most inviting production to date. It’s basically – gasp! – a pop album.
Genre categorization is of little consequence with an artist like Hop Along, though, because Quinlan & co. have established themselves as one of those outfits that are always on their way to another sound. Sure, Dog reduces the volume a tad, but it retains a certain jaggedness; this acrobatic ability to bounce between musical ideas with fleeting commitment while remaining totally unified as an album. The deft balance between eclectically adrift sound-searching and tight, focused execution of every point along that path is an artform in and of itself. Quinlan weaves between raw, piano-underscored belters such as “Not Abel” and acoustically-driven, self-harmonizing classic rockers like “Look of Love”. Every song possesses its own tiny reserve of magic…
There are seemingly as many highlights on Queen of Time as there are years Amorphis have been active, but these iconic Finns should be cheered for augmenting their folk and progressive leanings while adhering to their trademark blueprint. Founding bassist Olli-Pekka Laine has rejoined the band (it hasn’t been since 1994’s Tales from the Thousand Lakes where the four founding members played together!), which is as welcome a sight as noting that producer and so-called ‘brother in spirit’ Jens Bogren and longtime collaborator Pekka Kainulainen have returned to the fold as well.
Bogren’s steady hand cannot be understated on Queen of Time, as the record’s choral and orchestral infusions are far more pronounced this time around — especially in “Heart of the Giant” and “Grain of Sand” — which would run the risk of overpowering Santeri Kallio’s perpetually-memorable keyboards if not for Bogren’s watchful eye. Queen of Time‘s production is masterful and most certainly not ‘brickwalled to death’ (an affliction that is unfortunately becoming ubiquitous in the genre of late). The resplendent “Amongst Stars” (featuring the delightful Anneke van Giersbergen, whose soaring vocals are a gorgeous complement to Tomi Joutsen’s) is the true headliner and should have closed the album, although the Ensiferum-like “Message in the Amber”, assurgent “Wrong Direction”, bonus cut “Brother and Sister”, and astonishing opener “The Bee” definitively showcase…
It’s probably been since 2006’s The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me since I’ve heard a band this accurately summarize a total loss of hope and innocence. The overarching theme damns both politics and society, deeming both “fucked” as guitar chords slash away at listeners’ optimism for the better part of forty-five minutes. Tim Kasher laments the abuse of power and financial wealth (“The one percent live in high rises, they block out the sun”), a self-prioritizing civilization (“Society has got a heinous case of crabs, everybody’s got an itch to scratch”), and endless blame (“Rampant politicizing, this constant finger wagging”) – occasionally wrapping it all up into plainly stated disgust, as he does on “Ghost Writer” when he resigns his outlook to a bleak “This world has never felt less inviting to me.” The culmination of this miserable album is a seven minute all-damning epic, in which Kasher lists a series of things that used to give him hope, then swats down each one with a reason why it is corrupted. Vitriola is a shattering and sadly all-too-truthful narrative. –Sowing
Welcome back to the greatest show on the internet!
The SMA’s have returned!
Duh – Sowing’s Music Awards? It’s cute that you pretended to forget – it’s only the biggest name in sputnik user profile, end-of-year, blog-based award shows. It’s kind of a big deal.
So anyway, after a one year absence, the SMA’s are back in full force to rock your world. Forget the Grammy’s – they’re a joke. Teen Choice Awards? God help us. This is where you want to look for the best music of 2018: A place where only exceptional music earns the spotlight, and only the very best wins (Well, unless it’s one of the worst of the year categories – a brand new feature! But I won’t give anything else away.)
There’s a plethora of fun categories this year, but no award is more coveted than the seriously cool shit AOTY trophy [pictured below]. Low Roar, Sufjan Stevens, and Yellowcard (lol) have all come away with it before, and last year it would have been Manchester Orchestra. In the meanwhile, we’ve seen distinguished nominees such as Radiohead, The Antlers, and Fleet Foxes walk away empty-handed. It just goes to show that I don’t give a shit, and this is my show.
I’m still accepting offers to host the show. Judio (remember him? wasn’t he a contributor or something?) still has permanent dibs, but seeing as…
Imagine the heart-wrenching emotional reach of a track like “Colly Strings”, only blasted through the sleek production of an album like Simple Math. This is Manchester Orchestra in peak form. –Sowing
(24) Lorde – “Hard Feelings/Loveless”
Melodrama
2017 was the year of our Lorde, and she created one of the most captivating art-pop albums of the millennium. “Hard Feelings/Loveless” unravels in gorgeous fashion, evolving from the heartbroken laments of lost love to a sassy, fuck you of a little jingle. –Sowing
(23) Cairo Knife Fight – “A-Six”
Seven
A scorcher that balances groovy choruses with moody verses. As sharp sound scapes wrap around the buzzing guitars, the passionate, wide ranged vocals rip throughout the track with powerful hooks. –Raul Stanciu
(22) JASSS – “Every Single Fish In The Pond”
Weightless
Few artists can so seamlessly blend tribal base layers with industrial climax like JASSS. This is the sound of a civilization’s evolution from its eventual rise to its peak, envisioned in a nightclub, suspended in time. –Tristan Jones
Frank’s been labeled (by me) a Modern Day James Joyce, 12 months ago, when “RAF” and “Slide” weren’t even a thing. Truthfully, he exceeds his own influences, and renders himself as his own auteur. “Chanel”, a song that juggles sexuality and 21 Savage references, is probably his best song on lyrical content and technique alone; a veiled throwback to Morrissey’s “Suedehead” as much as it is an excuse to talk shit. –Arcade
(49) Vince Staples – “Yeah Right”
Big Fish Theory
Instead of capitulating to a boom bap or g-funk, Kendrick and Vince assemble SOPHIE and Flume and wild the fuck out. There’s drums, and there’s a synthizer, and Kucka, too. On top of that, you’ve got Vince mockingly inquiring about your lifestyle, and Kendrick nakedly accusing you of faking your fandom. It’s an exhilaratingly forceful moment, made just that much better by Lamar’s bottomless pit of flows. –Arcade
(48) KirbLaGoop – “Mutombo”
Goop
Catchy flow, a snotty demeanor, and a moody atmosphere that burrows inside the folds of a sweater. –Tristan Jones
