The Year in Music

This past weekend I had a conversation with a former B-Side contributor about the merits of my favorite fruitless activity: compiling my coveted year-end albums list.  As someone who takes this pointless endeavor way too seriously, I end up reading a lot of music sites’ year-end-lists. This year they all began with the [su_permalink id=”http://consequenceofsound.net/2016/11/top-50-albums-of-2016/” target=”blank”]exact[/su_permalink] [su_permalink id=”http://www.nme.com/list/nme-best-albums-2016-1869261″ target=”blank”]same[/su_permalink] [su_permalink id=”http://www.spin.com/featured/the-50-best-albums-of-2016/” target=”blank”]sentiment[/su_permalink]: 2016 was fucked up, but the year still delivered some great albums! It’s no surprise that the lefties running western music websites feel that 2016 was fucked up, and when we all eventually spent time with ourselves in November, it’s likely many of us turned to music to help us get through some internal turmoil.

But in what year does anyone claim that great music wasn’t released? I think these sites were off the mark; rather than saying that great albums were released this year, I’d argue that many of these albums could have only been released this year.

Let’s start with the Knowles sisters. 2016 had plenty of compelling musical plot lines, but I think two sisters independently releasing what many consider to be among the year’s best projects should be the top among them. The most interesting way to talk about these records (Beyonce’s Lemonade and [su_permalink id=”https://berkeleybside.com/frank-oceans-blonde-is-lightyears-ahead-of-2016/” target=”blank”]Solange’s[/su_permalink] A Seat at the Table) is to contrast how just how different they are.  Beyonce’s record sits in the same category as FKA Twigs’ and Frank Ocean’s music with a sound that feels grounded in R&B but incorporates hip hop, [su_permalink id=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Z2CXJR1ixg” target=”blank”]rock[/su_permalink] and electronic influences to the point that it’s essentially genre-less. The extra hands helping craft this thing, from James Blake to Jack White, make it one of the most diverse records delivered this year. Solange’s record, on the other hand, is as traditional as an R&B record gets, never shying away from downtempo boom-bap beats and sweet choral harmonies to create a consistent, singular album that does one thing exceedingly well and keeps sharp focus on its themes.

But these albums are inextricably linked, and not just because their creators are family. At their respective cores, Beyonce’s album is about navigating her struggling marriage while Solange’s touches on the experience of being a Black woman in America. And while both infidelity and Black womanhood existed before 2016, both records are undeniably post Black Lives Matter pieces of music. And both will surely serve as anchors in the canon of post-Trump racially conscious protest music I anticipate will inundate indie music sites for the next four years.

In the rap world, 2016 was another Kanye year. The build-up to and fallout from The Life of Pablo — the [su_permalink id=”http://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/hip-hop/6858303/kanye-west-wiz-khalifa-beef-waves-twitter” target=”blank”]name changes, the tweets[/su_permalink], the fashion show, the controversial statements — simultaneously mirrored and served as a distraction from the antics of a similar anti-genius. But what about the album itself? It had its highs (“Famous”, “No More Parties in L.A.”, “I Love Kanye”) and boy, did it have its lows. But broadly speaking, it was interesting enough. Kanye albums are always team efforts, and the G.O.O.D. music collective has yet to deliver something under his name that isn’t huge, detailed and ambitious — if not successful. A small part of me wanted this to be the year that Kanye finally collapsed in on himself like a dying star, but Pablo is proof that, at least as far as critically regarded music is concerned, the Kanye West Album continues to live another day.  

Then there was Chance the Rapper’s third mixtape, Coloring Book. It featured gospel music, was about Chance’s adulthood and newfound faith, had some nice jazz instrumentation and choral arrangements, and, oh yeah, got that coveted[su_permalink id=”http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/21909-coloring-book/” target=”blank”] 9.1 from Pitchfork.[/su_permalink] But like Pablo, the record was wildly inconsistent; an album’s worth of songs like “Blessings” may have been a masterpiece, but instead we got filler like the Bieber-featuring amorphous piece of PBR&B crap that is “Juke Jam”, and the generic dance number “All Night”.  I get it — the mainstream music media slept on Chance’s phenomenal 2013 release Acid Rap, and thus every publication from Rolling Stone to The Atlantic to [su_permalink id=”http://www.billboard.com/photos/7597536/billboards-50-best-albums-of-2016-critics-picks” target=”blank”]fucking Billboard[/su_permalink] had to proclaim his excellence as quickly as possible.  Look at him! He’s young and political and got the [su_permalink id=”http://www.bet.com/music/2016/12/06/grammy-nominations-2017.html” target=”blank”]Grammys to bend their rules and nominate him[/su_permalink] (because winning a Grammy is a coveted accomplishment for an independent artist, apparently). And also, who would shit on an album about God and getting #turnt, right?

The third big rap release was from legendary ‘80s and ‘90s collective A Tribe Called Quest. Bar for bar, We got it from here… was as political an album as you could make, and despite being crafted over the last year, somehow it sounds like it had already acknowledged Trump’s victory. I’m sure Tribe had booked their post-election SNL performance long before November 8th, but when [su_permalink id=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDxKVYUHBdA” target=”blank”]Dave Chappelle introduced the group’s performance of “We The People”[/su_permalink], there was something both kismet and preordained about the band standing up for who they were and what they represented in the wake of their worst nightmare being elected to the most powerful position on Earth. Elsewhere, [su_permalink id=”https://berkeleybside.com/danny-brown-loses-his-mind-on-the-infectious-atrocity-exhibition/” target=”blank”]Danny Brown’s album was exceptional[/su_permalink], [su_permalink id=”https://berkeleybside.com/drakes-views-pedestrian-uninteresting/” target=”blank”]Drake’s was lackluster[/su_permalink], and the hot streak of wonderful pop-rap songs continued with D.R.A.M.’s [su_permalink id=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K44j-sb1SRY” target=”blank”]“Broccoli”[/su_permalink] and Rae Sremmurd’s [su_permalink id=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQGUW9CgIiY” target=”blank”]“Black Beatles”.[/su_permalink]

On the indie front, Radiohead released their ninth LP, A Moon Shaped Pool, and it was very good.  I’m not sure why everyone was betting against them — they’ve long been one of the most consistently inventive bands out there — but despite the [su_permalink id=”http://berkeleybside.http://pitchfork.com/thepitch/1134-how-radiohead-became-for-a-time-the-worlds-biggest-political-band/” target=”blank”]ridiculous hype[/su_permalink] surrounding its release and subsequent warm reception, this was decidedly not the year for Radiohead (or really, white guy guitar rock in general). Climate change may be the greatest threat facing mankind, but in 2016, everyone was way more concerned with immediate political issues. And the artists who addressed sociological dilemmas spoke much louder than the fifty-year-olds sadly accepting the planet’s underwater fate.    

Yet, three young guitarist/songwriters emerged as the dominant trio in indie rock, and their records, unlike the statements made by the Knowles sisters and the aforementioned hip-hop artists, were decidedly inward looking. Angel Olsen proved she was more than slow, sad acoustic ballads with an upbeat, sixties-tinted meditation on relationships, My Woman. Mitski poetically described depression, alienation and bad decisions in the romantic but rocking [su_permalink id=”https://berkeleybside.com/mitski-slays-happiness-with-guitars-on-puberty-2/” target=”blank”]Puberty 2[/su_permalink]. And Car Seat Headrest delivered what I consider to be the decade’s best album with the sprawling, expansive, intricate, intelligent, reflective, humorous, profound, complexly arranged, impeccably sequenced, and millennial-defining Teens of Denial.

While all three artists had previously released excellent music, their ascendance to the indie rock throne came with a changing of the guards. Previous standard bearers like The Strokes, Wilco, Arctic Monkeys’ Alex Turner, and Animal Collective (whose record [su_permalink id=”https://berkeleybside.com/anco-exhibits-refined-palette-in-painting-with/” target=”blank”]I initially enjoyed[/su_permalink] but has subsequently cooled for me), all proved that they’re past their prime as interesting voices in the genre. I thought the breakthrough of another bandcamp indie rock artist, as well as B-Side favorite, [su_permalink id=”https://berkeleybside.com/mitski-japanese-breakfast-demonstrate-the-highs-and-lows-of-life-on-tour/” target=”blank”]Japanese Breakfast[/su_permalink], warranted more attention, but hey, what do I know.

Anderson .Paak was perhaps the year’s busiest musician, delivering two full length projects (Malibu and [su_permalink id=”https://berkeleybside.com/nxworries-make-sweet-safe-love-on-yes-lawd/” target=”blank”]Yes Lawd![/su_permalink] as NxWorries) and making every song he was featured on, from Kaytranada’s [su_permalink id=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yaWesK-nWts” target=”blank”]“Glowed Up”[/su_permalink] to Mac Miller’s [su_permalink id=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LR3GQfryp9M” target=”blank”]“Dang!”[/su_permalink] at least twice as good. I’d even say he was hands down my favorite vocalist of the year. Kendrick Lamar proved just how much better he is than every other rapper out there, delivering eight untitled tracks that continue to impress me more on each subsequent listen. Indie favorite Bon Iver’s new album, 22, A Million, continued his streak of interesting releases that don’t quite sound like anyone else, but the occasionally off-putting electronics made it his least accessible album to date, and he too was quickly swallowed up by the election.

 

Two beloved, legendary artists, David Bowie and Leonard Cohen, delivered albums within days or weeks of dying, and both were very well received; Bowie’s Blackstar in particular is looking like the champion of the critics aggregate list over on [su_permalink id=”http://www.albumoftheyear.org/list/summary/2016/” target=”blank”]albumoftheyear.org[/su_permalink]. As much as I respect these artists, as a twenty-three year-old who hasn’t explored much of their back catalogs, I would hesitate to express my opinions given the lack of context I have.   

And finally, we have what the B-Side chose as its favorite album of the year, a decision I fully support: Frank Ocean’s [su_permalink id=”https://berkeleybside.com/frank-oceans-blonde-is-lightyears-ahead-of-2016/” target=”blank”]Blonde[/su_permalink].  The album is a masterpiece, through and through. The lyrical themes and arc of its plot are masterfully woven; the arrangements are profound and gorgeous despite their stark minimalism. And Frank’s unexpected detours and song structures further serve to build an private world in which the album exists. Any track on here could be somebody’s favorite, and the words that encompass them feel both intensely personal to Frank and intensely intimate to the listener.  

 

 

In a year of loud, powerful voices making their intentions known (Kanye, Beyonce), the message that resonated with me the most came from an enigmatic introvert trying to figure out why he keeps fucking up his relationships and why he’s so nostalgic for a past riddled with unhappiness.  Despite the collective call to arms following the election, Frank’s heartbreaking falsetto comforted me more than any rallying cry could. It was reassurance that I’m living in an age in which albums this good are being written and released. It single-handedly elevated my optimism for the future of music.

“I should be payin’ them, momma, I should be payin’ ya’ll honest to God,” Frank sang on Blonde’s final track, ‘Futura Free’. No man, you shouldn’t. You’re the best out there. You’re selling hope — hope that beyond this year, albums like yours will exist. We should be paying you.    

 

Written by HR