The best of 2020, a year from hell, according to me.
Before I start, I have a hill to die on – 2020 was a struggle for musicians without live shows, but man, did they release some brilliant music. I’m not trying to call anyone out, but if your top songs/artists this year were all straight men, you absolutely need to change your mindset. Expand your range, listen to some women. Try and understand perspectives that you’re not familiar with. This is why men still rule the industry.
TL;DR – Don't worry, I made a playlist of everything.
A Preface –
The music of this year was a little sliver of shimmery light, shining through a dismal, only slightly-cracked door we, quite frankly, are having a lot of trouble figuring out how to enter. In this hellscape of a year, it was a tiny lifeboat floating our mental health through a global pandemic, a mess of an election, and everything in-between.
Music, to me, means all the ways in which we feel. It’s the intersection of our inherent, very human, love of rhythm, and our inarguable need for expression. It’s a collective breath we didn’t know we were holding in. It’s a soundtrack for our lives – especially this year when we’ve been left alone with our skeletons, vices, and all our dirty laundry (real, and metaphorical).
(But, you know, music is highly personal, so it never means the same thing to everyone. I don’t expect my list holds true for everyone, and I don’t expect my opinions on such to vindicate everyone's pandemic experience.)
A personal note –
My quarantine started out really, really sad. I’ve always surrounded myself with people. My mood thrives off of good energy and good company. Being without those distractions sent me deep into thoughts that I’d avoided thinking about. 2020 wasn’t the year of my heartbreak, but it ended up being my year to process and cope with it. It didn’t go well. I don’t do well alone with my thoughts. I thought about everything that went wrong. I thought about everything. It was waves and waves of anxiety, an endless analysis of myself.
As the first month turned into three, I tried to make plans. I wanted to make quarantine a reset. I’d breathe. Hopefully, I’d grow. I’d move on to do things I actually wanted to do. I’d learn to make peace with loneliness. Me and my dog, we’d do new things. We’d live by the park. I’d do something I’d talked about for years, just because I wanted to. I’d move to New York. And I did.
In the most defining moments of my life, I remember what I was listening to. My first semester of college was Lorde’s Pure Heroine. Living in Brighton was Troye Sivan’s Blue Neighborhood and it was was CHVRCHES’ Every Open Eye. The beginning of my senior year was LANY and Sylvan Esso. The end of it was The Japanese House. There is no such thing as time, only experiences – and the songs to document my chronologic existence.
And this year was no exception. This year was definitely an album year. I found myself putting more emphasis on full albums, rather than just songs or playlist. Here are the best ones I listened to – the soundtrack to a rough, rough year. In order of my favorites.
1. Phoebe Bridgers, Punisher
There are no accurate words to describe how much I love this album. Even the feelings – maybe sorrow, maybe elation, I can’t figure it out. It makes me feel everything at once (summed up by the tempo change in “I Know The End”). It’s slow and contemplative, poignant, then suddenly, out of nowhere, it’s full of snarky, mantra-bearing lines and clever, weirdly-relatable lyrics that you repeat over and over in your head. Bridgers’ voice, songwriting and wit are at the forefront, and I haven’t been so attached to an album since Lorde’s Melodrama. I'm so moved by it all, the sadness, the reflection, and the storytelling.
Faves
Every song. No skips.
2. Beach Bunny, Honeymoon
For Beach Bunny, it’s the instrumentation that’s more at the forefront. They're a garage band. The production? Minimal. That’s what makes it perfect. I waited relentlessly for this album to drop. I blasted it in my car, scream-singing. Every song is an anthem – guitar-heavy, drum-beating that makes you pound your steering wheel. It’s full of high-school-esque topics that are still brutally honest. “Rearview,” is my favorite because of the truthful, raw emotion, and the pickup at the end makes me absolutely lose my mind. This is exactly the music we’ve needed – raw, rough, female-centric rock music to lose our minds to, complaining about the monochromic bullshit of our daily (or past) lives.
Faves
"Rearview"
"Dream Boy"
3. Ryan Beatty, Dreaming of David
From a simpler time – released in January – This is one I’d just lay on my bed, close my eyes and listen to in full (which you have to do, the songs go together). As opposed to Beach Bunny and Bridgers, Beatty’s album has heavy synths and vocal modulation comparable to Frank Ocean. This album is a narration, sometimes getting so specific you wonder how Beatty even remembers all these details. But it’s also an experience – it’s a trip, pieced together with sounds and harmonies. They’re feelings, more than melodies. He repeats the same lines over and over and over, in a way that makes it so powerful it’s essentially a siren song. It’s most notable in Evergreen (“If there’s nothing else ‘round the corner”) and Casino (“Love me to death or don’t give me anything”).
Faves
"Casino"
"Evergreen"
4. HAIM, Women In Music Pt. III
HAIM are historic already. Their first album was a pivotal part of, in my opinion, one of the most iconic musical years in the new millennium – 2013. They brought all that energy and reverb into their third album (hence the “Pt. III”). It’s a little bit rougher in all the best ways, but keeps all the charm of why HAIM are so iconic in the first place. Almost like Vampire Weekend does, they create these plucked guitar riffs that almost require that you dance to them. A little side-step or a finger snap can suffice, but it’s second nature. You can’t even help it. “The Steps” is the best example of this, packed with their impactful wit.
Faves
"FUBT"
"Don't Wanna"
5. Beabadoobee, Fake It Flowers
I’m so glad this album exists. beabadoobee was on my radar because of her label, Dirty Hit (The 1975, The Japanese House, naturally)but I’d never listened to her music until the end of this year, and damn, did I need it. It’s full of punk-rock reminiscent sounds and so much angst and guitar. It’s all-around bad-ass. It’s everything I love about punk-rock – she emulates Nirvana and Foo Fighters, but approaches topics that are cute, ironic, funny, and most of all, female. It’s full of “fuck yous” ("Dye It Red") and then suddenly, she’s boldly admitting she’s planned out the names of all her children with a man she’s just met ("Yoshimi, Forest, Magdalene"). It’s, for lack of a better term, brilliant.
Faves
"Dye It Red"
"Together"
"Yoshimi, Forest, Magdalene"
6. Overcoats, The Fight
Another album I forgot came out in 2020. Overcoats, in general, have this haunting way of singing – they never sing a note alone. The entire album is sung in sync, like a choir. This is a tactic usually used in old folk songs, so it makes every song have an almost religious quality – like each song is supposed to be a religious experience. My favorite song to blast was also the most unlike the rest of the album – “Apathetic Boys.” It addresses the emotional energy and labor women often go through, exemplified by the line “I felt it all so you didn’t have to.” It’s yelled more than sung, and in a single melody as opposed to their usual harmonies, but it gives light to the joke of the song. Runner up is “Fire & Fury,” which is an anthem, literally. It starts soft, then ramps up into a chant. A little bit of a precursor to the events of the year.
Faves:
"Apathetic Boys"
"Fire & Fury"
7. Waxahatchee, St. Cloud
Waxahatchee’s album is poetry. Every lyric is brilliant. Weirdly enough, it’s not even a breakup album. I love music I can feel, but love? It’s not a feeling I’m all that familiar with (cue the violins). I’m usually not a fan of “happy” songs. I hate love ballads – like the first dance songs at weddings. I think the most profound music and poetry comes out of reflection, which often means heartbreak. So, maybe it’s just me being bitter, but every time I hear people singing happily about being in love, I gag a little. But not Waxahatchee. This album is a poetic ode to loving someone – and I love everything about it. It’s a different take. It’s not slow-dance, prom music. It’s an ode to the beauty of love. It’s an ode to the fact that there are still good things to look forward to in this world. It has country roots, but it’s simple. The outlier is “Hell,” which give me serious “Silver Spring” by Fleetwood Mac vibes (because you don’t have to die to haunt someone).
Faves
"Hell"
"Can't Do Much"
8. Tyler Childers, Long Violent History
This is a long one, bear with me. I was skeptical of Tyler Childers. I somehow ended up at a party full of confirmed Republicans (which I did not know before I got there), and they were obsessed with him. So could you blame me? I really, really try not to be pretentious when it comes to music taste. I adore Americana, folky, Chris Stapleton-esque country. But, when a room full of country bros were screaming along to Childers’ songs, I quickly judged his intentions as an artist. This was a lesson for me – don’t judge an artist by their fanbase.
Childers is, at his root, a Kentucky bluegrass musician. In September, he released an album of just bluegrass songs. No lyrics (save one), just melodies. It's the music I've loved since childhood. Then, there’s the title track, “Long Violent History.” It’s the only song with lyrics, and I could write an entire think piece on it. I’ll sum it up by saying that I’ve never heard a male country artist write a song so against the status quo of what country radio’s fanbase is. I grew up with these kids, I know who they are. With a fanbase full of “America-first country bros," “thin blue line” bearing evangelicals, Childers wrote a song explicitly in support of Black Lives Matter.
It’s bold. It’s saying, “wouldn’t you react the same way if they killed one of us?” It’s exactly what country music needs. Childers may be on the fringe of what popular country music is, but his fanbase certainly is not. Some non-country artists would be preaching to a choir to gain brownie points – that’s why their BLM sentiments fell flat. But not Childers – he proves why white, rural, working-class Americans should be behind the movement. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell my family for years. But he does it in song. This is so poignant for me because of the contexts in which I first heard Childers – a room full of people who should support, empathize, and band together with marginalized populations but do not because of long-withstanding, gatekeeping traditions. That’s it. The traditions mean nothing, and that’s what Childers is saying – Appalachia has suffered at the hand of the powerful, too. So, why would you defend a flag so rooted in oppression?
9. Fiona Apple, Fetch The Bolt Cutters
While I admit that I didn’t listen to this album all the way through that many times, I’m putting it on here anyway. There were several songs I was obsessed with, “Shemeika,” “Relay” and “Under The Table.” Not just because every music critique said it was the best thing to ever be released in years, but because it was, inarguably, a masterpiece. It was like a spoken word performance. It’s a comment on politics and love and the present, so much so that you’d almost think she wrote it during the pandemic. But no, it’d been in the works for years. The use of sound and noise – no one else has ever done it that so masterfully. Who writes a song about being bullied in the 3rd grade and makes it sound like a work of art? Fiona Apple does. I didn’t know who Fiona Apple was, that’s why I’m probably not doing this album justice, or not even qualified to write about her. If I'd been a fan before this, I’d appreciate it even more.
Faves
"Relay"
"Under The Table"
10. Perfume Genius, Set My Heart On Fire Immediately
Perfume Genius has a voice like no other. It reminds me, in the best way possible, of Tim Curry in Rocky Horror. An elegant, proper, lower register that gives me chills. The songs are hauntingly original – really like nothing else being produced right now. Such a striking voice means striking music that you can’t genre – it’s not following any trends. Sometimes they feel like show tunes. Sometimes it feels like a motion picture soundtrack – like I’m going through an entire plotline of emotions and anecdotes. It’s hard to describe. I’m still trying to figure it out – all I know is I’m moved. Some are strikingly upbeat – like “On the Floor.” Others literally have two minutes' worth of wolves howling.
Faves
“Without You”
“Nothing at All”
Honorable mention:
The 1975, Notes On A Conditional Form
Taylor Swift, folklore
Halsey, Manic
Albums that I haven’t listened to in full yet but love the several songs I’ve heard, and might have been on here, and I’ll get to eventually:
Sufjan Stevens, The Ascension
Porches, Ricky Music
Jeremy Zucker, Love Is Not Dying
The Aces, Under My Influence
Soccer Mommy, Color Theory
Christ Stapleton, Starting Over
Sylvan Esso, Free Love
The Avett Brothers, The Third Gleam
Conan Gray, Kid Krow
Run The Jewels, RTJ4
Notable songs (in no order other than what I thought of them in):
“Chewing Cotton Wool,” The Japanese House – She was going to make it on my list one way or another. Amber Bain didn’t release an album, but she did release a haunting EP (featuring Bon Over – the range!). “Chewing Cotton Wool” emulates “3/3,” one of my favorites of her songs, with its monotone layering. That’s what makes it so good. She uses the layering to create a feeling of being surrounded by sound, and I’ve always been obsessed with the tactic.
“If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know),” The 1975 – If I’m not going to put their album on my list, I have to talk about them somewhere. I appreciated The 1975’s newest album, it just wasn’t one I had on repeat. It was objectively their most artful, thought-out one yet, but the ambiance just wasn’t something I was looking for during quarantine. This song, however, embodied the early music of theirs I fell in love with. It’s straight out of the 80s but juxtaposed with a hyper-modern subject matter. Somehow, they predicted 9-months' worth of internet-only relationships. It’s exactly what I wanted, and Matty always executes pop songs impeccably.
"Nothing Revealed, Everything Denied,” The 1975 – Another favorite from their album, this one is anthemic with its gospel opening that makes me feel like I should be religious. The self-awareness of The 1975’s music has always been iconic – their ability to go back and reflect on what they’ve said in the past, it’s my favorite thing about them. Matty always wants you to know how he feels, and their explicit vulnerability makes this song lovely, reflective, and pushback on their previous pessimism.
“circle the drain,” Soccer Mommy – When you sing at a Bernie Sanders rally, you have to be cool. “circle the drain" is descriptive of exactly what it’s like to be depressed – it feels endless. An all too familiar feeling at a moment like now. “Hey, I’ve been falling apart these days.”
“PAIN,” King Princess – I love King Princess. I’m obsessed with her. I love her vibe, I love her music, I love the way she absolutely obliterates ideas of gender. I love that this song is out of tune. I love that it’s literally painful.
“Talk Like That,” Wallows – I was recently informed that the guy from 13 Reasons Why is in this band. I love that this song sounds like a video game background. I have no other explanation.
“Easy,” Troye Sivan & Kacey Musgraves – When I first heard this song, I said it reminds me of “Here (In Your Arms)” by Hellogoodbye. Just the chorus, with the swift electronic echo. It has the same quality that Troye has in many, many of his songs – great beats, soft indie-reverb verses and loud, layered, anthemic choruses.
“rock n roll,” Dijon – Dijon has the “indie guy” voice that everyone has right now, but he does something entirely different with it. The way he cuts the background in and out, then the way the guitar beat sounds like a blown-out subwoofer instead of a basic trap beat, like most everything else right now, is unique. It’s lo-fi.
“Back To The Start,” KALI – this could honestly be mistaken for a Soccer Mommy or Snail Mail song, but I’m a big fan of the way the chorus creates an entirely new melody.
“Daydream,” The Aces – Do I need an explanation? The song sounds like a literal daydream.
“Lost Angeles,” The Aces – a ballad for a city I, too, would probably hate. But we can all relate to the feeling of associating geography with a certain person, and the way they can almost ruin it for you.
“Ferris Wheel,” Sylvan Esso – a ballad to being hot, young, and alive during summer. It’s the feeling we all deserved this year and didn’t get.
“You should be sad/929/I’m Not Mad,” Halsey – I associate these songs all with each other because of how great they are in the contexts of Manic, so I’m talking about them all at once. I really thought Manic was Halsey’s most thought-out, mature album, and therefore her best. These songs specifically have the same fast-paced, stream-of-conscious (re: "manic"), rapped-lyric quality, and that’s what made me love them so much. It reminds me of “Tokyo Narita,” and her Soundcloud-only “Slow” – two songs I literally still can’t get enough of.
“JU$T,” Run the Jewels – I’m always really bad at discovering new hip hop. I listened to an absurd amount of Brockhampton this year, who didn’t release anything in 2020 (except a Dua Lipa feature). I need to get better, so if anyone has any hip hop music I should be listening to, please, do tell me. I do know, however, that Run The Jewels released one of the most talked-about, poignant albums this year, and “JU$T” was my favorite – it calls out everything.
“Therefore I Am,” Billie Eilish – No explaining is needed. You already know this song. I love the way Billie can just speak and make a brilliant song.
“Faith Healer,” Julien Baker – just wait, the best album of 2021 is coming up.
“Starting Over,” Chris Stapleton – A lovely little love song, but not corny.
“Lost,” Local Natives – Classic Local Natives, which I needed. “Are you the one you lost?” A question I try hard not to think about, but need to.
“Dark Days,” Local Natives & Sylvan Esso – Local Natives did a rendition of this song with several other artists, but naturally Sylvan Esso is my favorite.
"Second Wind,” Healy – Healy has been teasing an album for like, years, so this song had to do for the entirety of 2020. To be fair, is it typical white-boy rap. But, but his voice is beautiful, contemplative and emotional.
“People, I’ve been sad,” Christine and the Queens – Another song that embodies quarantine but was written way before. Christine and the Queens could not release a bad song, and this one is solemn but so representative of feeling, well, sad. She literally says “you know the feeling,” over and over, meaning that she’s not necessarily here to talk about her sadness, just let you know that the feeling is collective.
"Can’t Cool Me Down,” Car Seat Headrest – I am OBSESSED with the childlike keyboard in the chorus. I don’t know what compelled them to take that chance or what the meaning is behind it, but I’m so glad they did.
“Lighten Up Kid/It Is What It Is,” Mayday Parade – The 2010 emo kid in me is so alive when Mayday Parade releases new music. They’re still channeling the same vibes as their Lesson In Romantics era, and these two songs have that energy. Therefore, I am living for them.
And there you have it, my unsolicited musical opinions. Naturally, I've made a playlist, so you can have all these songs at your fingertips if you so wish.
See ya in 2021,
xoxo Paige