2016 in music
Yes, let's get it out of the way. 2016 was a ridiculous, horrifying, event-filled, tragic, and overwhelming shitstorm of a year. It was probably the most stressful year of all the twenty-seven that I've lived through, both personally and existentially. And yet, those of us tuned into the arts, and music in particular, were left with a shocking revelation of its consequences: there was some damn good music that was made in this year. Amidst the rise of a Trump presidency and the painful losses of so many luminaries cherished for their innovations (Cohen, Prince, Bowie, and others), we saw a consistent output of music straddling the lines of progressive innovation and holding the flame alive of well-worn sonic territory. You'll notice this list has an impressive diversity in genre, gender, and ethnic background, a testament to the vast creativity that brimmed amidst the chaos of the times. This top ten was painfully difficult to pare down, yet I am confident that I captured the music that, in my view, made 2016 so important in music history.
10. Sturgill Simpson, A Sailor's Guide to Earth
Kentucky's Simpson hit the critical jackpot in 2014 with the release of his charmingly named Metamodern Sounds in Country Music, a trippy tour-de-force through the traditionally-styled, yet lyrically progressive country territory. This time he is back with a conceptual ode to his newborn son, sung in an inimitable honeyed baritone, but embellished by rich strings and a horn section courtesy of Sharon Jones' Dap Kings. Its aggressive sounds are showcased in the funky "Keep Between the Lines" and the swooning Nirvana cover "In Bloom." The midalbum track "Sea Stories" keeps up the funky aesthetic, with horns piping in rhythmic interjections with Sturgill's hollers. It's a journey that we should be grateful to accompany this seasoned storyteller. After all, like he says, "Why would I lie to you?"
9. Mitski, Puberty 2
Identity is a hell of a thing. The understandings wrought by relationships in young adulthood are difficult for anyone, let along Mitski Miyawaki, a New York-based singer-songwriter with a few low-flying albums under her belt and nearly twenty countries that she has called home in her twenty six years of life. In "Happy," she imagines a nameless lover coming over and spending the night for a tryst, only to find him vanished like her aspirations for success and security. The real gem of the album comes with the single "Your Best American Girl," a 90's-styled power-chord rocker that shimmers with muscular energy and a fury brought on by the expectations imposed by American culture. "Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me/but I do, I finally do" she belts on the closing chorus. I'm glad she finally found that, and decided to transform that knowledge into amazing stuff like this.
8. Kanye West, Life of Pablo
It turns out that recent headlines confirmed what the artist proclaimed on "Feedback," one of the powerful opening tracks on this dizzying collection of barely polished songs from the self-proclaimed king of rock stars. "Name one genius that ain't crazy...I been outta my mind a long time." With West's recent psychiatric hospitalization after his public meltdown mid tour in support of the album, this certainly rings true. But what these songs display are the formidable talents of an artist in touch with so many pieces of the musical spectrum. Rihanna's voice rings out on the infamous "Famous," in which West subsequently claims that he made Taylor Swift a star, before a sultry beat yields to a surprisingly rich pop breakdown. Whether or not that claim of Swift is true, there is almost a spiritual subtext to much of the album, from the explicit soundbites of a child preaching in a pentecostal-revivalist style, to the Kirk Franklin-sampling opener "Ultralight Beam"'s gospel choir backing. This is a mess of an album, released amidst much editing, addition, and subtraction while fans nervously witnessed the artist openly tinkering with the tracklist on streaming services. But this mess accounts for a deep greatness that Kanye has built a legacy on. Perhaps his current period in recovery can allow him to count his blessings.
7. Anderson.Paak, Malibu
The cryptically named Anderson.Paak (born Brandon Paak Anderson, go figure) has spent 2016 so far carefully cultivating both critical attention and popular appeal when Malibu burst on the scene early in the year. So far the marquees of theaters across the nation, as well as an impressive number of appearances at the biggest music festivals in the country (not to mention overseas) have seen him perform with his tight group of musicians that together craft an optimistic, groovy, and rich blend of R&B, soul, and hip hop. One of my favorite ways to ingest the wonderful sounds on this album is through NPR's Tiny Desk Concert, where Paak and crew go to town on a few tracks in the stripped down intimacy of the radio studio. An array of guests, from singers to choirs and the MC stylings of Talib Kweli, to mention one, lend their talents to the LP. Let's hope this burst of activity in 2016 yields more creative energy from one of the most talented musicians to sit at the drum kit and craft new territory into the future of soul.
6. A Tribe Called Quest, We Got It From Here...Thank You 4 Your Service
Jumping into the mix late into the game, ATCQ emerged from years of inactivity and a split in membership to resurrect the spirit of their home turf, the storied landscape of 90's hip hop. Although never pegged as an explicitly political act, Q Tip, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, and Jarobi White have created a furious, urgent, and timely two-part album that showcases their formidable songwriting talents. It is arguably their best, and from the beginning pulls no punches in its assessment of the American political condition: "Ain't no space program for n*ggas, yeah you stuck here, n*gga." Riffing later on "We the People," we are reminded what a Trump America really looks like: "All you black folks, you must go; all you Mexicans you must go; and all you poor folks, you must go; Muslims and gays, boy we hate your ways." It is a chilling reminder of the struggles that so many people in this country face, and we have these three dudes from Queens angrily standing in the gap to say that this isn't going unnoticed.
5. Bon Iver, 22, A Million
Justin Vernon has always had an image problem. How was a shy, thirty-something, unmarried dude from Wisconsin to cope with the fame brought to him by two stellar albums, a Grammy win, and a ton of TV spots and festival invites? He did was the greats like Radiohead, R.E.M., and other rock luminaries coping with artistic success and their integrity did: he removed his face from everything, spurned all interviews, and quietly released one of the best rock albums of the year. Now, let's be clear, this is rock music deconstructed, assembled on the operating table, and reanimated with a sublime, but abrasive beauty. If you listen closely you notice the vocal nods to his first, folky, introspective album For Emma, Forever Ago. You might hear some of the instrumental textures brought by the soft-rock masterpiece Bon Iver. But most of the vocals are filtered through his self-constructed modulator rig, sounding to the untrained ear like a harmonized type of live auto-tune. But I had the privilege of seeing him perform the album in entirety at a live performance this fall, and the live setting really showcased the power of this setup. With a seven-piece horn section backing him up, two drum sets, and keyboards and guitars in the mix, Vernon delivers a powerful punch of songs that open with the meditative and lush "22, (Over Soon)", progress through the tranquil folk territory of "#29 Stafford Apts" and ends on the pounding "1000000 (Million)." No, he wasn't the greatest conversationist. But it didn't matter. The music does the talking, even if the cryptic lyrics keep the message just out of reach. Perhaps that's part of the appeal: the mystery allows us to encounter a new understanding of the musical medium. It's characteristic of Bon Iver to do that kind of work for us.4. Frank Ocean, Blonde
It is pitifully disappointing that Frank Ocean spent most of 2016 being badgered by overeager fans on social media complaining that his new album wasn't already blaring on their private sound systems. Ocean, the victim of our collective tendency to view artistic creation as an entitlement, will likely spend a long time recovering. Yet despite this disgusting context, he managed to release not one, but two albums that are so deep and layered that we spend the rest of the year unpacking them. I take on Blonde because I haven't fully experienced Endless, so I'll wait until I have a healthy break to do so. But from the opening, warped vocals of "Nikes" to the wonderful ending breakdown on "Self Control" Ocean shows more of the mastery and talent that shined through his excellent debut, channel ORANGE. I have more reasons to love this album, as it provided a fitting soundtrack through which I was able to woo my current girlfriend (okay, that's probably not true, but I like to think it helped), but the songs are strong enough to speak for themselves.3. Radiohead, A Moon Shaped Pool
Folks, I really tried to be unbiased. In a year with such a great collection of music, who else throws their music into the mix but the undisputed (in my book) greatest living rock musicians? Accompanied by a curious decision to retreat from social media in anticipation of the album's release, the album opens with the furious single "Burn the Witch," with characteristically oblique references to the impending societal terrors: "This is a low flying panic attack," sings Thom Yorke. But once the urgent cellos and pounding bass lines fade, the album unfolds with a gentle, lush beauty. It is a testament to the talents of this team coming to bear as a group: Johnny Greenwood's sonic palette as a composer contributing strings and texture to songs like "Daydreaming" and the weepy closer "True Love Waits," and Phil Selway's confident drumming pushing through "Identikit" and "Decks Dark." The toll of relational failure has hit Yorke hard this year, and it shows in the sense of forlorn sadness that you get upon hearing these songs. But the band provides his fragile tenor with a place to land, and allows us to hope that someday soon the skies will brighten up the reflection we see in A Moon Shaped Pool.
2. Chance the Rapper, Coloring Book
It's impossible to listen to this album without a big, goofy smile on your face. Chancellor Bennett brings his Chatham, Chicago roots to bear on this mixtape full of wonderful guests like D.R.A.M., Tye Dolla $ign, and the man himself, Kanye West. The 24-year old shows a wide-eyed love for life as he sings, raps, and (in his videos) dances his way through these landscapes. "Blessings" seems to epitomize the ethos of the album, and the lovely "Blessings (Reprise)" shows the slight ego-ism of the first go-around replaced with a tender ode to sharing the riches poured on us from on high. This is gospel-rap at its most pure: unmitigated by the stricture of genre conventions (this is not a Christian album), but brimming with spiritual sentiment, even when he's singing away gleefully about drinking "All Night." Go ahead Chance, you've earned it.
1. Beyoncé, Lemonade
In a year dominated by a horrific string of police shootings against black people, many of them videotaped and posted on social media, by the rise of a demagogue spouting racial hatred only to become the President-elect, and a national conversation on sexual abuse against women, it is only fitting that one of the most powerful names in music released one of the most powerful statements of identity, art, and protest in recent memory. Lemonade, unlike her previous studio work, is able to be experienced as a sonic album with guests such as Jack White, James Blake, the Weeknd, and Kendrick Lamar, but also as a long form music video (we call these things "visual albums" now, I guess). I won't go into detail here about the power of the story that video tells, but I heartily recommend that you watch it and step into the amazing images of black women reclaiming their humanity through the powerful iconography of the south. The anthem "Sorry" has become a feminist chant of sorts, with middle fingers and the repetition of "Boy Bye" entering the colloquy of people around the country (and further). But it's the scorcher "Freedom" with fellow Black Lives Matter champion Kendrick Lamar that iconifies Knowles as one who can masterfully construct a personally compelling narrative while capturing the ethos of a generation. It is a masterful act that runs through the whole album and categorizes her as one of the few artists to achieve the status of musical genius. The rest of us better hurry up and get in formation.
What follows are those works that I really enjoyed, but didn't make the cut for the top 10. Do yourself a favor and add them to your streaming queue as well.
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