50-31 | 30-11 | 10-1

10. Ichiko Aoba – Windswept Adan

[Official site] // [Spotify]

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…

50-31 | 30-11 | 10-1

30. Mac Miller – Circles

[Official site] // [Spotify]

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

29. Ulcerate – Stare Into Death and Be Still

50-31 | 30-11 | 10-1

50. Marilyn Manson – We Are Chaos

[Official site] // [Spotify]

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

49. Waxahatchee – Saint Cloud

[Official site] // [Spotify]

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!

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50. Ulver – Flowers of Evil

Genre: Electronic/Art Pop

Recommended Track: Little Boy

**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. 

49. Within The Ruins – Black Heart

Genre: Technical Death Metal / Metalcore

Recommended Track: Domination

**Although not as great as their magnum opus Phenomena, this album doesn’t trail too…

Category I:  Welcome

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…