Top songs of 2018

Behold! My top 12 songs of 2018:



And the honorable mentions*:



*a few of these came out in very late 2017

"Todo Ya" is the kick in the ass January needed

I was pretty done with the ABBA-ish title track of Arcade Fire's 2017 album "Everything Now"... until I heard Bomba Estéreo's wild, fun, loose, danceable, party-ready, and altogether wonderful remix. It goes right to the top of my "Top songs I've heard in 2018 so far" list (the remix came out last year), which is admittedly still quite short. Other early 2018 standouts include the Decemberists' "Ben Franklin's Song" and the Lana Del Rey/BØRNS collaboration "God Save Our Young Blood."

My favorite songs of 2017

Top 10:

• "Adore" by Amy Shark*
• "Love" by Lana Del Rey
• "Whiteout Conditions" by The New Pornographers
• "Total Entertainment Forever" by Father John Misty
• "In Cold Blood" by alt-J
• "Offering" by Cults
• "The Gold" by Manchester Orchestra
• "It Ain’t Me" by Kygo & Selena Gomez
•  "Tread Carefully" by Elizabeth and The Catapult
• "Do I Have to Talk You Into It" by Spoon

*single released in 2016, album in 2017

Honorable mentions:

• "Love Stuck" by Mother Mother
• "Stone Age" by David Ramirez
• "Los Ageless" by St. Vincent
• "Spent the Day in Bed" by Morrissey
• "Revolution" by Van William feat. First Aid Kit
• "Golden Dandelions" by Barns Courtney
• "Remember That Night" by Grouplove
• "Carin at the Liquor Store" by The National
• "Put Your Money On Me" by Arcade Fire
• "Feel It Still" by Portugal. The Man
• "Hard Times" by Paramore
• "They Put A Body In The Bayou" by The Orwells
• "Pleader" by alt-J feat. The Age of L.U.N.A (Mr. Jukes Remix) 
• "Love Is Mystical" by Cold War Kids
• "Trump's Private Pilot" by Father John Misty
• "Shine" by Mondo Cozmo
• "Daisy" by Goodbye June
• "Mea Culpa" by Elizabeth and The Catapult
• "Two High" by Moon Taxi
• "Fire" by Beth Ditto
• "The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness" by The National
• "No Roots" by Alice Merton

"The Con" turns 10

In 2007, indie pop band (and twin sisters) Tegan and Sara (last name: Quin) released what remains their most ambitious album to date: an angsty masterpiece packed with therapy-worthy tell-alls. Yet the Quin sisters had already established themselves, particularly with 2004's "So Jealous," as creators of some of the best pop mash notes of the 21st century.

The emotional honesty of Tegan and Sara's songs often reaches high-school-diary proportions -- but, y'know, in a good way. The sisters care tremendously about the psychology and whirl of emotions that surround the experience of love, and more than that, of heartbreak. Their sweet-and-sour voices and harmonies suggest the pucker-inducing lemonhead that romantic love can be, all with a satisfyingly punkish, pugnacious edge. To say Tegan and Sara are unafraid to be vulnerable lyrically would be a massive understatement.

Some of that punkishness comes out in Ryan Adams' cover of "Back in Your Head," from "The Con X: Covers," in which artists like City and Colour, Hayley Williams, and CHVRCHES pay homage to "The Con." (I actually prefer Adams' version to the original.) Going in a totally different direction, CHVRCHES turns "Call It Off" -- one of the Quin sisters' simplest, saddest, and prettiest lost-love songs -- into an ethereal hymn, with dazzling results. It doesn't hurt that "Call It Off" includes some of Tegan and Sara's best lyrics, perfectly capturing the mourning and ambivalence that mark a tough breakup:

Call, break it off
Call, break my own heart
Maybe I would have been something you'd be good at
Maybe you would have been something I'd be good at

But now we'll never know
I won't be sad
But in case I go there
Everyday, to make myself feel bad
There's a chance that I'll start to wonder if this was the thing to do

Maybe "The Con" received as much acclaim as it did because it's a sprawling, conceptually rich album from a previously small-scale band. It's bigger in scope and length, and boasts more emotional depth, than any of Tegan and Sara's other records, before or since. For a taste of the psychological intensity on display, check out the title track's intervention-from-hell lyric: "Encircle me, I need to be taken down." Who hasn't needed a friend to steal their cellphone so they don't drunk-text their ex? Who hasn't needed a pep talk of Taylor Swiftian proportions to avoid idealizing a bad-news former lover? With masterly brevity, Tegan and Sara made "The Con" a compendium of romantic calamities. Better to have loved and lost? Easy for him to say.

Throughout its length, "The Con" alternates between quieter introspection (as in "Call It Off") and surging mini-epics that use turbulent drums, abrupt starts and stops, and vocals that veer thrillingly skyward or dizzyingly downward. And is there, in all of 21st-century indie pop, a better account of teen love and loss than "Nineteen"?

I felt you in my legs
Before I ever met you
And when I lay beside you
For the first time I told you
I feel you in my heart and I don't even know you
And now we're saying bye, bye, bye
And now we're saying bye, bye, bye

There's a reason we yearn to read other people's diaries. Even after a decade, "The Con" feels fresh and vital in its account of the raw, overwhelming emotions we feel before, during, and after a big, big love.

"Adore" captures the blissful ache of infatuation

Even though "Adore" was released as a single in 2016, the EP it ended up on, Amy Shark's "Night Thinker," didn't come out until 2017. And until this year, the Spokane area's premier indie rock station, KPND, wasn't playing it. So I'm tempted to consider it my favorite song of this year thus far. Back in 2016, after all, most of the people who fell in love with Shark's spare, sharp lyrics and achingly expressive music were her fellow Australians. Now we in the Northern Hemisphere get our shot.

"Adore" begins with three fraught guitar chords, then adds Shark's bruised-sounding voice, supported by a simple beat and subtle backing vocals. The song builds in urgency and vulnerability, all the while maintaining a loping, mid-tempo feel. The first three lines capture something vital about the desperation that accompanies a serious crush:

I'm just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm
I'm just gonna walk home kicking stones at parked cars
But I had a great night, 'cause you kept rubbing against my arm

In a quick but emotionally rich three minutes, Shark communicates volumes about romantic attraction that may or may not be requited. Eleven years ago, I wrote for Seattle Weekly about the agonies and, well, further agonies of the unrequited crush. It's a universal theme, but it's the rare song that honestly describes the torturous state of wanting someone who doesn't want you back.

In "Adore," Shark certainly shows both the overflowing passion ("I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you") and combative spirit  ("Watch me watch him talk to girls / I'm known as a right-hand slugger / Anybody else wanna touch my lover?") of someone who isn't entirely secure in her bond with the object of her desire. That's part of what makes the song so great: Obsession has a mighty undertow, a dark pull that can make otherwise reasonable people do unreasonable things. No unrequited-crush song worth its salt tries to pretty up the ugly side of asymmetrical attraction.

This gorgeous, pained love song would be a terrific fit for "13 Reasons Why," a show similarly concerned with infatuation that exists in tension with darkness. 2017 is far from over, but I'm not sure anyone is going to top "Adore" for raw emotional power.

That new Arcade Fire album

Okay, so yes: Arcade Fire's new album, "Everything Now," is their least impressive outing in 13 years of being unparalleled indie-rock darlings. In 2004, when "Funeral" turned Pitchfork and much of the indie-admiring world weak-kneed, I'd been in Seattle (and working for Seattle Weekly) for a couple of years and was becoming aware that a few lucky indie bands, whether several albums in or after a single release, blow up. This was, after all, the year of Modest Mouse's "Good News for People Who Love Bad News" (their fourth album), whose massive smash single "Float On" elevated them to indie royalty (for a few crazy years). That same year, Franz Ferdinand's self-titled debut exploded, too. And, oh yeah, the Killers' "Hot Fuss." Holy crap was 2004 busy for indie fans. And "Funeral" added a powerful measure of dreamy, almost otherworldly storytelling and sound that was also, somehow, profoundly moving and relevant and ridiculously millennial. Album of the 2000s, and maybe of the young century thus far, thou art "Funeral."

In 2007, Arcade Fire somehow surmounted the unbelievable pressure of following up "Funeral" by releasing "Neon Bible," which was darker, satirized religion, and consisted almost entirely of irresistibly escalating, triumphal anthems (or anti-anthems, in the case of the haunting "My Body is a Cage" and "Black Wave/Bad Vibrations"). I was at the Seattle Times by then, and I still remember the version of "Neon Bible" I listened to obsessively in my trusty Discman. The track listing was markedly different from what ended up being the final, official one. "Intervention" started that alternatively ordered album, and it still seems much more appropriate than "Black Mirror" (second on that disc) as an opening track. Anyway, I fell madly in love with the gorgeous, doomy "Neon Bible," and though I will probably find, as I revisit "Funeral" now, that it's at least as strong as its predecessors, on some level Arcade Fire's sophomore set may forever be my favorite album of theirs.

"The Suburbs," in 2010, leaked out to me track by track via YouTube. "Rococo" struck me as pure, beautiful Arcade Fire bombast, a heavy, rolling destroyer of a song that more or less kicked off the band's ongoing reflection -- sometimes pretentious, sometimes self-lacerating, occasionally both -- on fame itself, and what it's like to be The Most Important Band Ever all of a sudden. "The Suburbs" won the album of the year Grammy, and it is indeed a lovely, ambitious project. As a suburban kid, and especially as one who spent most of his first 10 years in a classic American suburb (Warren, Michigan), I do think a lot of this quasi-concept album captures vital things about suburban life, including the sadness and isolation that can persist despite everyone's houses being built so damn close to each other. Parts of "The Suburbs" still grab me, but as a whole it didn't hit me as hard as the band's first two records.

"Reflektor" came out in 2013, right around the time Liz and I bought our house. I took immediately to "Joan of Arc" and "Normal Person," both of which riffed memorably on the notion that being a nonconformist misfit sucks, but the only thing worse is being a rigidly conventional, boring bully. (Basically: the plot of "Carrie," minus the firestorm.) "Afterlife" served as a lovely climax near the end of the album's dance-y, angst-y arc, and I loved the use of rhythms and sounds of Haiti (co-lead signer Regine Chassagne's ancestral homeland, which the band name-checked with a song title on "Funeral") throughout the record -- especially on "Here Comes the Night Time." After the big concept and epic sprawl of "The Suburbs," "Reflektor" couldn't help but feel like a more minor album. Still, the work and care that went into it was evident, and it had plenty of that Arcade Fire ache -- the emotional charge, the yearning, the thrilling interplay between sadness and joy.

"Everything Now" has some of it, too, but not nearly as much. Think of it as an extended EP: "Everything Now," "Creature Comfort," "Electric Blue," "Put Your Money On Me," and "We Don't Deserve Love," and you're pretty much good to go. Even critics who've ragged on the record as a whole admit that "Creature Comfort" has some of that old-time Arcade Fire magic, what with the "everybody sings at once!" wall-of-sound moments and the lyrics about body dysmorphia, low self-esteem, and suicidality. (The midsong reference to "Funeral" that so many critics found annoying strikes me as a fair poke, on the part of the band, at their debut album's long shadow and vaunted reputation as the emotional expression of an entire generation's collective angst.)

However, it's "Put Your Money On Me" and "We Don't Deserve Love" I keep coming back to. Sure, "Money" has a mix of great and dodgy lyrics ("Above the chloroform sky"? Sure! "Clouds made of ambien"? Yeah, not so much). Then there's this breathtaking run:

I know I've been different
My skin keeps shedding
My mother was crying on the day of our wedding
Trumpets of angels call for my head
But I fight through the ether and I quit when I'm dead

Oh, man. The song builds and builds and by the end the harmonies are ethereal, and yet somehow it still sounds like 21st-century ABBA. It's a mesmerizing, beautiful song. It sticks in my head.

"We Don't Deserve Love" works similarly, though it's musically pretty different. Here's where the lyrics really take off:

Mary roll away the stone
The men that you love
Always leave you alone
Go on Mary
Roll away the stone
The men you love always leave you alone
You hear your mother screaming
You hear your daddy shouting
You try to figure it out
You never figured it out
Your mother screaming that
You don't deserve love

The very band that skewered evangelical Christianity on "Neon Bible" has taken the age-old story of a mourning Mary and lifted it up movingly in its own unique style. Lead singer Win Butler's voice has always been highly expressive, but here his prolonged falsetto feels unusually vulnerable. Critics we'll never see the likes of "Funeral" again from Arcade Fire, and I understand the disappointment that surrounds their release of a decidedly nonessential record.

But the spark hasn't died out completely. From 2004 to 2013, the band's albums met me at what now seem like crucial points in my life. It's okay that many of these new songs falter. After producing so much music that's filled with passionate but ambiguous feelings and surprising, creative stories and ideas, these guys deserve some grace. And hey, three new songs that stand up to repeat listening are definitely better than none.

Lana Del Rey has something important to tell you

I first heard this on NPR's All Songs Considered. Now it's come back to really haunt me.

Seven songs of summer

None of these was released this summer, but they all got stuck in my head, kept popping up on KEXP, or otherwise made an impression.

"Black Sheep" (written by Metric, performed by Brie Larson)
When movies feature fictional bands that are supposed to rock, they usually suck. In fact, they tend to suck so much that their (equally fictional) fans' devotion is hard, if not impossible, to believe. The made-up bands in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, on the other hand, have a secret weapon: They're either real bands performing under false names (e.g., Crash And The Boys = Broken Social Scene), or their music was written by honest-to-God musicians with tons of actual fans. Beck wrote the songs played by Scott Pilgrim's band, Sex Bob-Omb, including the endearing Iggy Pop rip-off "Garbage Truck"; and Canadian pop powerhouse Metric wrote "Black Sheep," an unreleased track that Brie Larson -- as Envy Adams, the singer for fictional band The Clash At Demonhead -- nails to the wall. Whether or not you're a Metric fan, it's hard to deny the craftsmanship and outright catchiness of the song, and suddenly the throngs of worshipful fans make sense.

"Gimme Sympathy" (Metric)
This is Metric performing as themselves, from their 2009 album Fantasies, which got the band plenty of U.S. airplay. "Help, I'm Alive" was the lead single, but this infectious follow-up stands up better to repeated listening. The lyrics playfully name-check the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, and the band's irresistibly polished sound, not unlike that of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, makes this a perfect summer driving song.

"My Love" (The Bird And The Bee)
Foot stomps, hand claps, and then singer Inara George's deceptively sweet voice, which usually has a sardonic hidden agenda. But not this time: "Hey, boy, won't you take me out tonight / I'm not afraid of all the reasons why we shouldn't try." Right there, in the first two lines of the light, punchy chorus, you've got all the necessary ingredients for a fine romance: a date and some odds to overcome.


I didn't think much of the Shins' third album when it was released back in 2007, starting with that damn title. Wincing the Night Away? Really? As it turns out, it's got much of the charm of the band's much-praised debut and sophomore records. This song, in particular, includes nearly all of the Shins' best tricks: unpredictable melody, busy lyrics, and a subtle but persistent sense of humor that mocks songwriting clichés: "Faced with a dodo's conundrum / Ah, I felt like I could just fly / But nothing happened every time I tried." Especially great to run to!


The hype surrounding Arcade Fire's third album made it extremely unlikely that both fans and newcomers would be satisfied. While The Suburbs isn't as marvelously cohesive as Funeral or as striking, musically or lyrically, as Neon Bible, it's no slouch. "Suburban War," the record's centerpiece, powerfully conveys the nostalgia, sadness, and beauty evoked by American suburban life. Yet "Rococo," which creeps up on you, is at least as effective. Fans have identified this as Arcade Fire's grand statement against fickle music hipsters, but I'm more interested in the song's big, rolling sound, which finds yet another way to do what the band does so well: take the ordinary and build momentum until it feels apocalyptic.


Imogen Heap's 2009 album Ellipse is nowhere near as strong as her previous effort, Speak For Yourself, which includes the peerless "Hide and Seek." That said, "Aha!" is Heap at her best: fast, sly, and terrific in the chorus. The song mixes her trademark electronic sound with a slinky melodic line and an unidentifiable but massively catchy element (Middle Eastern? Eastern European?) that puts it over the top. It's a short track that doesn't waste a moment; you'll want to hit replay the second it's over.


Yes, the album's cover girl is suing the band, but what's more important is that Vampire Weekend pulled off what the Shins achieved with their second album: enough of the same to please fans, enough that's different to satisfy critics. Most of Contra sounds like pure summer fun; the band's signature wit is tucked into nooks and crannies along the way. "I Think Ur A Contra" takes a different tack, slowing things down and serving a few piercing critiques to the so-called revolutionary of the title: "You wanted good schools / And friends with pools / You're not a contra." Vampire Weekend is still playing with class and the cultural and political assumptions that accompany it; by varying their musical attack with this album closer, they've demonstrated a promising kind of growth. Plus, few songs are better to cool down with after a run.

The song that's stuck in my head this weekend, plus gelato

YouTube isn't letting me embed the music video for "Black Sheep," from Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, which I saw yesterday afternoon. Ah, well. The movie was loads of fun, and Brie Larson, as the title character's ex-girlfriend, delivers a stronger version of the song than Metric, the Canadian pop band that wrote it. Pity her rendition isn't on the soundtrack, which I hope to get at some point. I've already requested the Scott Pilgrim comic book from the library.

In other breaking news, I went to D'Ambrosio today and was blown away. Best gelato I've had since I visited Italy in 2000. Best flavor I've tasted so far? Fig-caramel. God, it's heavenly. About food and movies I'm still extremely capable of geeking out, which is nice to know. Why let yourself become jaded when you can remain an excited little kid inside a grown-up body?

The song that's stuck in my head this week

The song that's stuck in my head this weekend

I really liked the movie, too.

The song that's stuck in my head this weekend

Total candy. I love it.

Best one-line music review ever?

Rolling Stone, on Florence and the Machine's 2009 album Lungs:

The best bits feel like being chased through a moonless night by a sexy moor witch.

So true!

The song that's stuck in my head this week

The song that's stuck in my head this weekend

The song that's stuck in my head this week

The song that's stuck in my head this week

It's on Kate Silver's wonderful, fully downloadable March mix. The Ted Leo track is great, too. Collect them all!

Starring Lady Gaga

Steven has been playing and singing Lady Gaga songs around the house for months now, and I'm finally beginning to understand his love of the Ga. He's more interested in her as a performance artist than I am, but I share his appreciation for her music. My current favorites, "Paparazzi" and "Alejandro," are both extremely smart pop compositions with hooks so sweet they give you a toothache. Also, the "Paparazzi" video is amazing:



Check out the costumes and makeup, especially in the scene where (spoiler alert!) Gaga poisons her boyfriend. Her black lipstick! Her honeybee-colored outfit! Her boyfriend's metallic eyepatch! I never tire of seeing her smile as she drops the powder in his drink.

I suppose it was inevitable

The L.A. Times reported on the show this morning. Funny thing is, an entirely different Obama musical debuted -- and flopped -- in Seattle last year. Maybe the story just doesn't fit the form? That said, the clip of Hillary belting out "I'll be ready on Day One!" is pretty cool.

Peter Gabriel and Hot Chip cover Vampire Weekend

And it's wonderful. Give a listen for yourself. (Just click the play button to the left of "Play results for Hot Chip Peter Gabriel.)