Category: Lists

Folks, I could not be more thrilled to bring you the top 20 songs of 2017 and the final part of the DJY100. Thanks so much for reading. I always have so much fun putting these together and I’m really stoked with the response. Look forward to doing it all again soon, but in the meantime be sure to catchup with parts one, two, three and four before proceeding.

Here’s to whatever 2018 has in store!

– DJY, January 2018

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20. Manchester Orchestra – The Gold

Over a decade on from their debut, Manchester Orchestra still easily strike the fear of God into their listeners. The Andy Hull-led project has never been about quiet devastation – it’s about the extremities of the emotional spectrum and the internal conflicts that come with going there. “The Gold” immediately asserted itself as a career-best track for the band in the lead-up to the release of A Black Mile to the Surface. Indeed, as excellent as that record was, it never quite scaled the same heights elsewhere on its tracklisting. Heavenly harmonies, heart-on-sleeve lyrics and strikingly-beautiful arrangements: “The Gold,” indeed.

19. HAIM – Want You Back

Consider “Want You Back” a mosaic of sorts: a complete work of art in its own right, but its foundations are simultaneously laid by dozens of others. Looking closely, you’ll see the likes of Taylor Dayne, Stevie Nicks, Shania Twain and Janet Jackson in alignment – all of whom could have easily made this song just as big of a hit as the Haim sisters have. Of course, the bigger picture is HAIM themselves – they’ve taken everything they’ve learned and made something all-encompassing of their past, present and future. Now make like the video: Shut up and dance already.

18. Gordi – Bitter End

Sophie Payten has never shied away from fragility and vulnerability in her music. Perhaps nowhere in her still-blossoming body of work does she bare quite as much as she does on “Bitter End.” She’s openly seeking tragedy amid reverb, tape loops and delicate acoustic guitar: The refrain, “Don’t deny me,” reveals itself in full to be “Don’t deny me/My bitter end.” It’s a song that never shakes the ever-present feeling of falling in slow motion – the world crumbles around you, and the inevitable demise looms. “Bitter End” comes from a broken place for those unable to escape one themselves.

17. Code Orange – Bleeding in the Blur

When Code Orange signed to Roadrunner Records, many metal fans connected the dots with their love of Fear Factory and Hatebreed to joining the roster. One overlooked aspect of this move, however, was the band’s affinity for alt-metal – the kind Roadrunner was instrumental in making big in the 90s and early 2000s. “Bleeding in the Blur” may be Code Orange’s most accessible moment yet – it was, after all, picked up as a theme song for WWE’s NXT – but it never compromises nor loses the edge that made the band noticeable to begin with. Blood is still thicker.

16. The New Pornographers – High Ticket Attractions

Whiteout Conditions saw a lot of internal changes for The New Pornographers, now in their 20^th year as a band. It marked their first without long-serving drummer Kurt Kahle, as well as their first without Destroyer’s Dan Bejar making contributions. It’s worth noting “High Ticket Attractions” immediately sounded like business as usual for the Pornos – in the very best way possible, of course. Carl Newman and Neko Case are perfectly intertwined as vocalists, Blaine Thurier is off sending his keyboards into outer-space and new guy drummer Joe Seiders is locked directly into the groove. Power-pop never felt so powerful.

15. Gold Class – Twist in the Dark

By this point, Gold Class are a well-oiled machine. Its four members work in close quarters, knowing exactly when to hold back and when to butt heads. “Twist in the Dark” is their greatest exercise in dynamics to date – a propulsive post-punk single that barely draws breath across its four-and-a-half minutes. It all comes together in the chorus, where the titular phrase is howled less like a demand and more like a plea. Meanwhile, Evan James Purdey’s guitar sounds like it’s got sparks coming off it, thrashing and radiating against the booming rhythm section. This moment is unquestionably theirs.

14. Antonia and the Lazy Susans – Home Here with Your Friends

The term “wholesome” gets bandied about a lot when discussing Antonia and the Lazy Susans, the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed four-piece from the Blue Mountains. It’s easy to see why – theirs is a warm, inviting and good-natured take on indie-rock; their hearts proudly on the sleeves of their band tees. “Home Here with Your Friends” feels like a big, reassuring hug. It plays on the cliché of “home is where the heart is” and affirms its meaning to an estranged absolute. You’ll be singing in arms with your best mates in no time – “Home Here” achieves this by design.

13. Allday feat. Japanese Wallpaper – In Motion

As impressive as Allday’s 2014 debut Startup Cult was, its lyrical content certainly played to a more adolescent view of women and the world around him. Three years on, Tom Gaynor is a little more centred – he’s found love, however fleeting; and the nights of getting fucked up, while still present, don’t hit him the same way they used to. Somewhere between an internal monologue and a balcony soliloquy, the whole affair is tastefully soundtracked by Melbourne beatmaker Japanese Wallpaper. Gaynor’s reserved, sweetly-melodic voice works well in the foil of the gentle, glowing beat. So this is growing up.

12. Tigers Jaw – Guardian

We write songs of people we love. We write songs of people we hate. There is, of course, a lot of grey area in things between people. A song like “Guardian” fills that void in its own way. Ostensibly, it’s about removing yourself from someone’s life after a long spell of dependency issues and indelible history. It’s a gut-punch of a song, but also liberating in its catharsis – the chord progression slides around in perfect circles; the chorus feels like a lifted burden. Tigers Jaw speak for the downtrodden and the emotionally-distant – and they sing it so beautifully.

11. Charli XCX – Boys

For someone who hasn’t even hit 30 yet, Charli XCX feels as though she’s undergone more transformations than your average Madonna. Hook girl, shouty punk, pop princess, experimental glitch-pop weirdo… one never really knows where she’ll end up next. That’s part of the excitement, to be honest. There’s always an adventure to be had – look at “Boys,” after all. It was attached to easily the biggest music video of the year, but this ain’t no OK Go operation – the song thrives on its own. Playful, charming and ornately-arranged, “Boys” was the straight-girl/gay-guy anthem millennials were craving in 2017.

10. Paramore – Hard Times

In case you didn’t get the memo care of the marimbas and bongos that lift the curtain on Paramore’s fifth album: We’re not in Franklin anymore, Toto. The name remains the same as it ever was, but those seeking a new slab of angst-ridden pop-punk in tune with the band’s early stages are going to find themselves bitterly disappointed – possibly even to the point where they’ll go off and make their own, should it suit them. Progression, see, is a two-way street: “Some of us have to grow up sometimes,” Hayley Williams sang on the band’s self-titled album back in 2013. She wasn’t just talking about herself, or whomever she may have been subtweeting. In order for a band to grow, its listeners have to grow with it – and, thankfully, Paramore have found themselves in a position of power as far as this dynamic is concerned.

For the most part, fans have been willing to go along with whatever Williams and co. throw at them – including line-up shifts, internal conflict and vocoder solos. There’s an ever-present restlessness to what it is they do, and it’s boldly reflected in the image of “Hard Times.” Each listen allows you to pick up on something that hadn’t presented itself previously – a returning Zac Farro, for instance, counting the band in before announcing his triumphant comeback with a thunderous drum fill. Or what about the onomatopoeic “oofff” that lands directly after Williams cartoonishly yelps how she’s “gotta get to rock-bottom”?

The song bounces between Talking Heads eccentricity to state-of-the-art pop on a whim, all the while providing the perfect contrast to Williams’ total-bummer lyrics sheet. The melody may be as bouncy and bright as anything the band has recorded, but even taking a second to scratch below the surface will see Paramore transmogrify into Pagiliacci. That’s what makes this such a striking song – every listen is a new adventure. Paramore are still in the business of misery, but lest we forget that misery loves company.

9. Nick Hakim – Bet She Looks Like You

One verse. One chorus. One drum loop. It doesn’t get much more stripped-back from a structural standpoint as it does on “Bet She Looks Like You.” That’s part of its intrigue – how could a song with so little technically do so much emotionally? A lot of it has to do with Nick Hakim himself, the man behind the music who plays nearly everything on debut album Green Twins and provides the quivering, gasping vocals that serve as the very core of this song’s being. He sings of a love that is killing him – quite literally. “If there’s a God/I wonder what She looks like,” he sings. “I bet she looks like you.” His parting words: “I wish that life/Would feed the tree/And you can put me to sleep/Forever and ever.”

Being a relatively new artist, Hakim is somewhat of a blank canvas. Spending time with “Bet She Looks Like You,” however, one quickly picks up on his methods. He paints with broad strokes of luminous green, circling outlines with shimmering chrome and allowing pitch-blackness to take its place where it can. His voice recalls vintage soul, and carries with it a realm of paradoxes – reverb-heavy, cavernous, distant; and yet as drawn-in and intimate as the bedroom in which it was recorded. His guitar playing shifts from baritone plucking to tasteful upper fretwork, a gated snare its only guiding light. Hakim blends, shifts and reshapes genre semantics to work within. He goes beyond writing a song with “Bet She Looks Like You” – he’s a creator of worlds.

8. Selena Gomez – Bad Liar

As long as sampling has existed in popular music, the side-by-side analysis has been inevitable. It’s easy to see something like “Rapper’s Delight” stemming out of Chic’s “Good Times,” for instance. It’s also fascinating to see the glimmering hope of Dido’s “Thank You” recontextualised as the stormy obsession ballad that is “Stan” by Eminem. What, then, to make of “Psycho Killer” in its new home of Selena Gomez’s “Bad Liar”? They may seem worlds apart – Gomez, after all, was born some 15 years after the song itself was released – but their parallels run closer than you might think.

By sliding Tina Weymouth’s instantly-recognisable bass-line between syncopated claps and a bluesy modulation, one appreciates how rhythmically versatile both artists are. Weymouth knows her way around empty spaces, and Gomez knows how to fill out lingering ones. The scatterbrain lyrics – composed with assistance of the iconic duo, Julia Michaels and Justin Tranter; also responsible for “Hands to Myself” – also resonate with the real live-wire that David Byrne is portraying. Both Byrne and Gomez reach breaking points, while also knowing when to draw back and switch to an internal monologue. There’s inherent struggle in both characters, and the tension builds quickly.

Of course, “Bad Liar” thrives regardless of being aware of its musical context or not – it’s one of the best songs Gomez has ever put her name to, if not the. It’s the perfect balance of smart and sexy, guilty and innocent, hot and cold. For someone who could have easily become a Disney also-ran, it’s been remarkable to see how far Gomez has come in the last half-decade. Should 2018 bring us a new full-length, consider yourselves warned – it’s only gonna get fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa far, far better from here.

7. Calvin Harris feat. Frank Ocean and Migos – Slide

Consider the power of a man like Calvin Harris. Not physical, mind – he’s always been a scrawny type, even as he’s evolved from Scottish geek to Hollywood hunk. It’s more about what he’s able to bring out of people; the way that he can reach into any pop A-lister you can think of and transform them. Florence Welch, the indie queen? Disco diva. Kelis, the milkshake-sipping rnb star? EDM commander. Frank Ocean, the reticent bedroom-dweller who shuns touring and makes introspective music for the emotionally-invested and socially-isolated? Guess what, dude: You’re at the steering wheel of a sports-car, cruising LA with the song of the summer bumping in your trunk.

Ocean certainly feels like the outlier of the three artists involved in “Slide” – yes, including the guy who’s not even from America. What’s fascinating is that he barely changes his approach, even when presented with a slamming boom-bap rhythm and shiny synth patterns. He underplays the whole thing, which subsequently shifts the playing field and levels out in Ocean’s favour.

He’s too cool to get hype – not like Migos, who make their presence felt like the hyenas of The Lion King we so desperately want them to be. Not to say Migos aren’t cool – it’s that they’re a tad more extroverted and certainly more willing to play ball. The two work as perfect foil for one another; such is the pulling power and the masterful eye for detail held by one C. Harris. Exactly how long Harris’ redemptive streak will last is anyone’s guess, but for now it’s better to just cruise.

6. Charlie Puth – Attention

There’s an old saying that you may have heard in your travels: The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he didn’t exist. In 2017, the prince of darkness managed to one-up his own trickery, and a new challenger came for the title. And so it went: The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that someone played bass on “Attention” by boy-wonder pop heartthrob Charlie Puth. You get a glimpse into pure evil in the glint of Puth’s eyes in a making-of video for the track, for which he wrote all of the music. “Everyone asks me who played bass on this track,” he says. There’s a cheeky, smug grin on his face as he reveals the perpetrator: himself, playing a MIDI keyboard.

For those that have heard – and, indeed, paid – “Attention,” this ranks up there with the cake as one of pop culture’s greatest lies. You’d feel betrayed were you not so impressed that the twentysomething wunderkind literally created a one-man band for the song – not only the electric, infused bass-line, but the tasteful, suspenseful palm-mute guitar. He can’t even play guitar, for fuck’s sake.

Perhaps the frustration at Puth’s creation is an overhang from his irritating debut album, Nine-Track Mind, which positioned him as a smug and overly-cocky loverboy, not to mention an easy critical punching bag. Puth’s arrival in 2017 with “Attention” and “How Long” was pop music’s equivalent of Sandra D turning up in the final scene of Grease wearing a leather jacket and smoking a cigarette. The stud has logged on – and he’s gonna talk his shit until you’re licking up every last fake bass-line. Guess it’s true what they say – better the Devil you know.

5. Kendrick Lamar – HUMBLE.

“HUMBLE.” is endlessly quotable. Every line could be tweeted and get thousands of RTs. Every line could be given a bit of art, posted on Insta and rack up five-digit likes within the hour. Even an edit of the song that changes nearly every line to one of the curious artefacts brought up in the first 30 seconds – syrup sandwiches – has proven to be quite popular. There’s one particular line, however, that serves as a rason d’être for Lamar himself. It’s a command, but it’s neither “sit down” nor “be humble.” It’s this: “Show me something natural.” A black man’s afro, for instance. Or perhaps a rear end that hasn’t been digitally edited.

These are just examples, of course. It’s reflective of a greater quest that Lamar is on – not just on DAMN., but his entire career. He’s surrounded by bullshit artists, careerists and fake personas. It’s his duty to dismantle the systems that uphold these sorts of people, in turn making music that is inextricably linked to his own identity. “HUMBLE.,” for all intents and purposes, is a successful mission.

Its clattering piano keys created one of the year’s most hypnotic loops, weaving in and out of busy hi-hats and head-nodding chants while the bass rattles your car speakers. His flow is restless, never settling on a measure or metric but rather ever-evolving as he finds new ways to intertwine himself with his surroundings. Even as the beat rides out, you’re half expecting him to leap right back into the fray and find a dozen new flows to go with it. Could he do it? Easily. He’s a natural.

4. Gordi – Heaven I Know

Quick maths: One two three, one two three, one two three, one two three, one two. Across eight measurements, fourteen beats. 4/4, standard time. Sophie Payten’s whispered numbers game serves as the only percussive backbone of “Heaven I Know” for much of its runtime. It immediately grabs your attention as a peculiarity – especially when Payten’s voice layers on top of itself, marking out the on-beat with an A-shaped C-note on the two and the four. That’s a lot to take in on its own – we haven’t gotten to the military snare drum, the chipmunk vocal samples, the vocoder and the army of trumpets that make their presence felt on an increasing basis as the song progresses, implodes and subsequently fades.

Despite the fact it’s quite clearly a song about letting go and the acceptance of loss, “Heaven I Know” feels like a battle-cry. Its titular refrain is sung heavens-high with stunning harmony, the pain of its heavy-hearted sentiment crashing down on unsuspecting listeners with a considerable wallop. She simultaneously sounds as human as she ever has, while still glitching in the background like a malfunctioning robot.

Coming from any artist, this would be a mesmerising and wholly surprising effort. The fact it comes from an artist who – with all due respect – was previously more at home in the realm of your everyday singer-songwriter makes “Heaven I Know” even more compelling. It comes out of nowhere, and quickly takes up space everywhere until it’s inescapable.

What becomes of the broken hearted? That’s simple: They write songs like “Heaven I Know.”

3. Jacob – How Long Until You’re Next to Me?

Throughout history, popular music has offered up questions that not only work well as song titles, but as choruses. We’ve been questioning each other for millennia: Do you know the way to San Jose? Have you ever seen the rain? Are you gonna go my way? Who let the dogs out? A new question entered the conversation this year – one so straightforward and self-assured, you’re legitimately amazed that it had never been asked before. It’s asked by a band that, although five years in at this point, are entering a new phase of their existence and making changes accordingly. A band that’s developed a cult following in their time, mixing their love of third-wave emo with their heart-eyes emojis for vintage pop. A band that knows a thing or two about breaking hearts and being heartbroken – life may not be easy for a boy named Sue, but it’s just as hard for a band named Jacob.

“How Long Until You’re Next to Me?” was a standalone single for Jacob in 2017. That’s both literal – ie. not being attached to an imminent EP/LP release – and also in the context of stature. This is a peerless song – there was no better Australian song released across the entire calendar year, regardless of any genre semantics or gridlocks. “How Long” defies them anyway – it’s a song that’s just as at home on a summer pop playlist than it would at on the CDJ decks of an alt-club night. It’s got a spring in its step, but a sting in the tail. It’s bubbly and bright, yes; in equal amounts, it’s love-lorn and longing. It’s persistent, too – just when you think it’s done, it goes in for one last lightning round.

To borrow a phrase from Pavement, “How Long Unitl You’re Next to Me?” is an island of such great complexity. It’s simple as apple pie on the surface, but it’s tellingly deceptive. Each listen insists upon another – you’ll have notched up double digits without even noticing – and yet you’re never closer to answering the titular question. We may never – Bob Dylan probably never got an answer for how many roads a man must walk down before you can call him a man. At the very least, Jacob are on the right track.

2. Charly Bliss – Westermarck

Everyone remembers Bart and Milhouse’s all-syrup Squishee bender. The sugar-rush sends both kids into orbit, with Milhouse helpfully suggesting the two “go crazy – Broadway style.” All it took was one hit and they were away. Consider Charly Bliss the musical equivalent of the all-syrup Squishee. Not that they lead to bad decisions or anything like that – it’s just that they’re alarmingly sweet, and going out of your way to seek it out will lead to gasps from on-lookers. At the same time, it’s so easy to get hooked.

There may not be a more alluring voice in contemporary rock music than that of Eva Hendricks’ – it’s so head-range and treacly that one may initially suspect digital manipulation. The guitars are flowery and rainbow-swirled, the drums clinking and clashing against them. If you’re not lost in their world within the first 60 seconds, then you’re straight up not paying enough attention. “Westermarck” is the stand-out track on Guppy, the band’s debut album – and considering three other songs of theirs made the cut in addition to this one, you know that’s saying something.

What makes it so irresistible? It’s the single most succinct and swiftly-executed amalgamation of not only Charly Bliss’ key strengths, but of what made rock music great in 2017. There’s churning guitar, a chorus that demands to be screamed and even a “Teen Spirit”-esque melody-line guitar solo to tide you over. It’s so specifically personal, and yet nothing is ever really given away – what was the cause of the birthday fight that lead to the scarred face? How exactly was a baby going to pop or get shrunk? Was Rick Moranis involved? And would you believe Hendricks if she was right? Surely you would. She can make a believer out of anyone who listens to “Westermarck.”

1. Drake – Passionfruit

It’s a tradition almost as old as hip-hop itself. The beat kicks in, the crowd goes nuts… and just about as it’s about to get going, the artist cuts the music. Verbatim, they’ll tell the crowd something along the lines of: “You can go harder than that! If you’re really ready for this shit, then make some noise!” Noise is made, the song begins again and the energy in the room hits fever pitch. What’s fascinating about “Passionfruit” in its introductory stage is twofold. The first aspect is how Drake takes this live practice and executes it on a recorded song. Just as you’re settling into the groove of Nana Rogues dancehall futurista, a voice interrupts. “Hold on, hold on… fuck that,” it says. It’s DJ Moodymann, taken from a DJ set in 2010 where he botches a mix and makes sure to get it right. To have this experience outside of the realm of live performance is nothing short of disarming – even on subsequent listens, when you know it’s coming, it’s the equivalent of waiting for your toast to pop up.

The other half of this curiosity relates back to “Passionfruit” from a musical standpoint. Usually, the songs being hyped up by this fake-out are tracks like “All of the Lights.” Something that builds up and explodes, high on dynamic lift. “Passionfruit” is not that kind of song – at least, it doesn’t seem to be. It loops around hypnotically, its neon-glowing glass synths serving as a waterbed for Drake’s buttery vocals and the shuffled hi-hats keeping rhythm. The way it continues with such insistence, however, makes you more and more invested in how it progresses. Drake could have done this for any of his more hyped numbers in his arsenal – imagine this within the confines of “Jumpman,” for instance. For whatever reason, though, “Passionfruit” was selected as the song with which to start the motherfuckin’ record over. And it’s still believable.

Needless to say, “Passionfruit” is a little more nuanced and a lot more complex to explain than your average Global Top 50 entrant. It’s bright and tropical, yet it works just effectively for listeners in downer moods. It soundtracks glasses of champagne out on the dancefloor as well as drinking so much that you call them anyway. Drake is in your ear, but he’s also a million miles away. It beams with both the millennial-pink tinge of the club and the unforgiving white of the streetlights on the drive home. The chord progression is uplifting, and yet it’s easily contrasted and off-set by atonal blips that barely fit the metre. It’s truly a testament to Drake’s versatility as a singer and as an artist that he’s able to encompass so much within a single song – “Passionfruit” has more levels to it in five minutes than many acts are able to even fathom across an entire LP.

It’s fitting that the last voice you hear on “Passionfruit” – much like the first voice – is not Drake’s. This time, it’s Zoë Kravitz – daughter of Lenny, actor and singer – coming down a phone line, á la “Marvin’s Room.” Her only line is this: “Umm… I’m trying to think of the right thing to say.” There’s no resolution. The conflict that arises within the song’s lyrics is not resolved. The tension hangs in the air. And yet. And yet. And yet. The beat goes on. If the song didn’t transition into the “Jorja Interlude” on More Life, one could envision it going on forever. Still on this motherfuckin’ record. Probably always will be.

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Thanks so much for reading! Don’t forget you can listen to a playlist of nearly every song featured in this list (with apologies to Clean Shirt and Neil Cicierega) below:

Almost there! Time to crack into the top 40. Big things popping, little things stopping. Local heroes, global megastars – this bracket’s got it all. Catching up on the list so far is as easy as one, two, three.

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40. Lorde – Green Light

2017 belonged to Ella Yelich-O’Connor from the opening chords of this song. No-one quite captures and captivates the way she does – a larger-than-life pop megastar who simultaneously feels as down-to-earth as your high-school bestie. “Green Light” didn’t just open Melodrama – it arguably overshadowed it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, but this song manages to build a bustling metropolis in four minutes. It’s a spirited minor-to-major ascension, serving as sonic kintsugi – that is, rebuilding broken things using pure gold. Lorde was always the kind to stop traffic, but out of her teens she appears capable of anything.

39. Ali Barter – Cigarette

Ali Barter is sugar and spice – deceptively sweet, with a sting in the tail. Her lilting voice recalls Spiderbait’s Janet English, playing nice until her sneaker comes crashing down on the distortion pedal. “Cigarette” is biting in its take down of a superficial lover; its titular kiss-off comes in so hot, there’s smoke coming off it. We haven’t even gotten to the air-guitar-worthy shredding all over the place, with whammy bends that would score serious points on Guitar Hero were it still with us. It may come in scented packaging, but Barter is unafraid to deliver some home truths.

38. Aimee Mann – Patient Zero

At 57, Aimee Mann has been in the entertainment industry for more than half her life. There’s nothin’ you can tell her about ol’ Tinseltown that she doesn’t already know. She’s seen a million fresh-eyed faces pop out of a cab on Santa Monica Boulevard, all to be weathered by the ensuing shit-storm. That brings us to “Patient Zero,” which serves as one of Mann’s finest pieces of songwriting to date. Guided by an insistent palm-muted acoustic and some tastefully-plucked strings, cautionary tales are interwoven with timely election-night grief. Its intricacy is remarkable; its sound is absolutely beautiful. Dream on.

37. Arcade Fire – Everything Now

If you’d have proclaimed circa Neon Bible that Arcade Fire would become the most hated band in indie-rock within the decade, few would have believed you. Yet, here we are: The same folks that once worshiped at the altar of Win Butler and co. now form queues to openly spit on them across any given platform. And for what? A disco record. No, not that one. This one. The one with the “Dancing Queen” piano and the “Send Me on My Way” roots-rock exuberance. Whatever your take on the album’s roll-out, Everything Now‘s title track was a misunderstood rough diamond.

36. Cloud Nothings – Things Are Right with You

“No use in life without a sound,” reasons Dylan Baldi on Cloud Nothings’ fifth album – titled, ahem, Life Without Sound. It’s a sentiment that’s hard to disagree with, particularly within the context of a loud, fun and sadly undervalued rock record. “Things” carries on time-honoured tradition of splashing drums, knife-edge guitar and unfathomably-catchy choruses. Some may misinterpret this being more of the same as a bad thing. Au contraire. It’s a band playing to core strengths. They’ve never been concerned with reinventing the wheel, only rolling with what they’ve got. As luck would have it, that’s more than enough.

35. The Killers – The Man

When U2 made their comeback in the early 2000s, they called it “their application to be the biggest band in the world again.” In a lot of ways, that’s what “The Man” feels like – it swaggers with the kind of confidence that can only come from having ascended the mountain-top and wanting to take in that view once more. The Bowie-friendly lead single from the band’s fifth LP, Wonderful Wonderful, cops its strut from “Stayin’ Alive” and spins with the enchantment of a disco ball. It’s pure gloss and rhinestone, the soundtrack to a neon-tinged Las Vegas night. Diggit.

34. Charly Bliss – DQ

Earlier, Charly Bliss provided one of 2017’s more curious opening lines. What wasn’t mentioned, however, was how they one-upped themselves not three tracks later. “DQ” launches into the fray with – no shit – “I laughed when your dog died.” There’s no coming back from that – you’re immediately in the crossfire. The rest of the band don’t let up. Not that you want them too – “DQ” is addictive listening. It drives home the band’s manic edge, going from hilarious (“I bounced so high/I peed the trampoline”) to devastating (“I’m too sad to be mean”) in a split second.

33. Tigers Jaw – June

For spin, Ben Walsh played all of the guitars, bass and drums; as well as taking lead on the lion’s share of songs. One could put up an argument that Tigers Jaw has ostensibly become his band – but a track like “June” would swiftly refute that. Brianna Collins has always been integral to the band’s sound, and spin‘s centrepiece track makes that clearer than it’s ever been. It’s a song of heartbreak and defeat, with the light shining through to let in hope and sisterhood. Collins may seem a timid presence, but the resonance that “June” has is assertive.

32. Sampha – Plastic 100°C

The first voice heard on “Plastic 100°C” is not Sampha’s, but Neil Armstrong’s – a sample lifted from the recording of the moon landing. Back on earth, our hero is in distress mode – he’s stressed, overheated and distant. The spiral of synth-strings and warm organ allow for his emotional journey to venture between the gutter and the stars. A great opener to an album will transport you to an entirely new place – setting the scene, building a private universe and immersing you within it as a listener. In the case of Process, Sampha’s long-awaited debut album, it’s outer-space.

31. Citizen – Jet

Maybe Citizen have been here before. Seen this room, walked this floor. They’re living in an abstract reality, using surrealist imagery and extended analogies to tap into the human condition and subsequently find themselves closer to it than ever before. “Jet” – and, by extension, October’s As You Please – sees Citizen making a further progression from their previous LP, Everyone is Going to Heaven, as that record did with their debut Youth. Initially caught somewhere between the emo revival and the pop-punk scene, the band has refined their sound and focused in on something uniquely theirs. They’ve taken off.

30. Lincoln Le Fevre and the Insiders – Useless Shit

You might not be there, or you may be past it. There’s a window of time, however, where you will see yourself in everything Lincoln Le Fevre writes. The Tasmanian expatriate finds himself sifting through the rubble on the lead single of his third album, catching reflections in the wreck and ruin. The guitar twangs and gnashes at driving snare rolls, angling for alt-country with rougher edges and enough wear-and-tear to lend to punk credentials. The refrain only needs to be heard once for it to worm into the subconscious; each recital growing louder and louder. It can’t be ignored.

29. Spoon – Hot Thoughts

Your average indie upstart celebrated their 24^th birthday in 2017. Spoon celebrated 24 years as a band. It’s not only far from their first rodeo – they practically run the show now. Consider their arc not unlike, say, Madonna or Cher – adapting, evolving and growing with the times, rather than attempting to work against them. The title track to Hot Thoughts hit the airwaves in late January; all tubular bells and hypnotic drum loops ablaze. Perhaps the band’s boldest single choice since 2005’s “I Turn My Camera On,” Spoon’s faith in their own abilities paid off tenfold. Verdict? Ssssssmokin’.

28. Calvin Harris feat. Pharrell Williams, Katy Perry and Big Sean – Feels

Some pop hits are too sweet. Some too sour. Going from track to track like Goldilocks, “Feels” was one of the biggest singles to go down just right. A healthy portion of Pharrell charisma, just a pinch of Katy Perry’s sunny disposition (neither too much nor little) and sprinklings of Big Sean’s incredulous-romantic schtick a la “As Long As You Love Me.” If that wasn’t enough, a Nile Rodgers guitar swagger and a big-swinging bass-line help the whole thing go down a treat. Island-hopping pop was acceptable in the 80s, and feels (pardon the pun) just as pertinent in 2017.

27. Mere Women – Big Skies

They say that in space, no-one can hear you scream. The same seems to go for remote/regional Australia, where Mere Women’s Amy Wilson found herself while writing the band’s third (and best) album. There were few moments that felt as haunting than Wilson reiterating the deceptively-dark advice offered to her by locals on the title track: You better get a dog, girl. Calling out from the darkness with only the pound of floor toms and guitars feeding back to answer it, the whole affair is enough to make one’s blood run cold. “Big Skies” is equal parts bark and bite.

26. LCD Soundsystem – tonite

“I’m the reminder,” James Murphy sarcastically quips into a megaphone. “The hobbled veteran.” He knows he’s too old for this shit – it was partially what brought LCD Soundsystem to a close to begin with. Ironically, this moment comes around halfway into one of the key songs of the band’s comeback – a justification for their rebirth, with renewed sense of purpose. At its core, “tonite” is a song about taking chances – simultaneously harsh in its realism but laced with enough hope to keep the disco-lights flashing. The veteran may be hobbled, but he can still dance himself clean.

25. Kendrick Lamar – DNA.

Dr. Dre – Kendrick Lamar’s childhood hero – rapped a warning to his critics back in 2002: “Don’t think I don’t read your little interviews/And see what you’re saying.” Lamar took this advice to the next level on DAMN.: he’s literally broadcasting his haters, word-for-word, via samples. It’s intentionally provocative – as if to ask, ‘you didn’t think I wasn’t going to hear this, did you?’ It adds to “DNA.”’s righteous fury like gasoline to the fire. Lamar fires off on all cylinders over a clattering, relentless beat. Understandably, too: He’s mad as hell and isn’t gonna take it anymore.

24. Horrorshow – Eat the Cake

Growing up is a long, arduous process. We’re told to put away childish things, and thus party traditions change with age – athough getting fucked up on Fat Lamb and a key of coke may turn you into a bigger brat than red cordial and cake ever could. Horrorshow explore these changes on one of their biggest and most fun singles to date. “Eat the Cake” is replete with double-entendres and a knowing wink across its smartly-written, playful lyrics. Bonus points for the five-star music video, too. As the Aunty Donna boys themselves might say: Haven’t you done well, Horrorshow.

23. Gold Class – Trouble Fun

The title of this cut from Gold Class’ second album is curious, given it’s technically not an actual term. Its pairing of commonplace adjectives, however, immediately sparks imagery – vivid and intimate. Adam Curley has plenty of space in the arrangement for his words to hang and resonate; sparse guitar and metronomic tom-tom pounds draws in breath and promptly exhales at opportune junctures. “They won’t catch my kisses/They won’t catch my fist,” he howls; ‘they’ being “the kids ’round here.” There’s enough pent-up emotion in this moment alone to sign off on it being one of the year’s finest songs.

22. Lonelyspeck – Happy New Year

All is quiet on New Year’s Day. In the beginning, there was darkness. Nothingness. Lonelyspeck – aka Adelaide vocalist/producer/guitarist Sione Teohemunga – creates light with this jaw-dropping creation. “Happy New Year” begins in a fragile state, the vocals whispering against the low hum of a pan-flute. It ascends sonically, but not in the way you’d expect – its clattered beat and sub-bass shock you from your slumber and into the musical equivalent of Get Out‘s sunken place. Lonelyspeck sings from a new perspective, reticent but resolute. “I don’t hate myself/Like I used to,” they sing in resolve. Nor should they.

21. Hair Die – Backburning

Very little information is out there concerning Hair Die, save for knowing the core of the band is made up of brothers and that “Backburning” is the quartet’s debut single. How exactly did we get here, then? Simple, really: “Backburning” is a song that does the talking. That’s quite literal in the case of the song’s second verse, which goes into a rant about the inherently-cynical nature of human interaction. Elsewhere, the track is propelled along by an incessant hat-heavy drum-beat and laser-beam keyboards; recalling proto post-punk and Krautrock in its prime. Whoever you are, Hair Die – keep burning.

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That’s it! Part five will be up later this week. Follow along with the hashtag #DJY100 on Twitter. You can also check out the playlist on Spotify below:

 

Officially cracking the halfway point now and things are set to get very interesting. Who’s bubbling under? Who’s leading the way into the top end of the countdown? Who is screwing with the lights? Make sure you’re up to date with parts one and two, won’t you?

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60. Amy Shark – Blood Brothers

You’re probably most familiar with the first two singles from Amy Shark’s debut EP – the first was the runner-up in 2016’s Hottest 100, the second was recently certified gold. To take in the best of her songwriting abilities, however, one has to venture a little further into the tracklist. “Blood Brothers” gurgles a chopped-and-screwed vocal sample over a hypnotic boom-clap and irresistible vocal melodies. “I feel like a million dollar bill,” Shark purrs in the track’s chorus. Old mate sounds like one, too – courtesy of M-Phazes (good gracious) on the ones and twos. This shark can smell blood.

59. LCD Soundsystem – call the police

There was hours of debate, both online and off, regarding the reunion of LCD Soundsystem. Some claimed it was too soon for the band to get back together after such a definitive end, others found solace in Murphy’s inspiration from the late David Bowie to continue. Wherever you stood prior to the release of american dream, it’s worth noting the band putting out new music did bring a lot of people together. “call the police” was our first proper taste of things to come, and its urgency felt like the rush of blood that we needed. Thus began new life.

58. Gang of Youths – Let Me Down Easy

Here goes David Le’aupepe again on his own, going down the only road he’s ever known. Go Farther in Lightness is an album about starting again and bouncing back from your lowest. On an album that’s at times exhaustive in its triumph, it’s nice to have a nice middle ground: low on fanfare and high on hooks. It’s a baroque-flavoured indie-disco – call it ELO Soundsystem if you have to. It’s charming, understated and engaging on its own accord. Plus, it’s the only single of 2017 to drop both Journey and Whitesnake references. Oh, and the word “solipsism.” Just ’cause.

57. Neil Cicierega – Annoyed Grunt

Because where else are you going to find Larry King, Home Improvement, Disturbed, Annie Lennox, Phil Collins, Mungo Jerry, Korn, Barney Gumble, M.I.A., Homer Simpson, Austin Powers, Yoshi the Dinosaur, Rammstein, Third Eye Blind, Green Day and David Lee Roth under the same roof? Fucking nowhere else, that’s where. Oooh-WA-AA-AA-AHH!

56. Lil Uzi Vert – XO Tour Llif3

The kids call it “emo rap.” Instead of guns, bitches and bling, these mainstream hip-hop stars are all about pills, depression and AutoTune. Traditionalists may bristle, but it’s clear this music is resonating. There was perhaps no greater example than Lil Uzi Vert’s breakthrough smash, far removed from his “yah-yah-yah-yah”s of “Bad and Boujee.” “XO” takes about 30 seconds to lock into your brain and will refuse to leave for weeks on end. It’s brash, it’s booming and it’s not afraid to talk about its feelings. All his friends are dead, but Uzi made plenty of new ones in 2017.

55. Julien Baker – Appointments

You can hear a pin drop when Julien Baker sings. The Tennessee native has a way of turning every song she performs into the quietest place on earth. Adults weep like babies in her presence. She reduces the strongest person you know into an inconsolable mess. Unsurprisingly, this has not changed for her second album. If anything, songs like “Appointments” have served to reinforce her resonance. There was nothing in 2017 that was quite like Baker – defiantly, resolutely – singing the phrase “I have to believe that it is” into the ether. She’ll make a believer of you yet.

54. DEAFCULT – Rubix

Here’s the skinny on DEAFCULT: Loud guitars. Four of them. Interested? Right this way. Watch in awe as these Brisbane natives find their own way of making this quadruple-attack work entirely in their favour, eschewing maximalist overcooking in favour of tactical dynamic shifts and strict sensibilities. Few songs in the calendar year were able to find the balance between heaviness and accessibility the way “Rubix” did. It resulted in one of the year’s best singles from a band that you’d understandably only expect album cuts from. Lift your fixed gazes like antennas to heaven, from your shoes to the horizon.

53. Charly Bliss – Percolator

First impressions stick – so Charly Bliss ensured that every second of the opening song of their debut album absolutely mattered. We’re talking right down to the wire here – even the second where everything drops out and there’s complete silence needs to be there. It allows for the cacophony of cymbal smashes and shrieking guitar to jump out at you with even more adrenalin and aggression. It’s all packed in here, about as tightly as one could hope for, and it’s a rollercoaster of a listen. One of the few tracks in 2017 to leave one genuinely exhausted afterwards.

52. Pale Waves – Television Romance

Very little is known about Pale Waves, the goth-pop curiousities that appeared more or less out of nowhere in 2017 with their retro-friendly take on new wave, new romantic sounds. They appear to be under the mentorship of throwback pin-ups The 1975, and the through-line is ever apparent on “Television Romance.” It should be noted, however, Pale Waves aren’t just cool by association – they’re forging some fashionable chops of their own at a crucial developmental period. The chorus melts in your mouth, the guitars are crystallized delights, the gated snare thwacks in the sweet spot of your heart. Delightful.

51. HAIM – Little of Your Love

The love of choreography displayed by HAIM in their music videos isn’t just cheap nostalgia. The siblings are wholly committed to indulging in this bygone era, while simultaneously pulling it through the vortex and into the present day. “Little of Your Love” could sit comfortably in the discography of, say, the Jackson 5 or The Supremes – yet it still sounds as vital as any state-of-the-art chart-topper. It’s insanely catchy and righteously harmonious, with its double-claps and horn-section honks peppering what’s already a tasty dish. Once the sisters are done, you’ll be willing to give more than just a little.

50. Tigers Jaw – Window

“You couldn’t stop it if you wanted to,” sing Ben Walsh and Brianna Collins in their unmistakable dual-vocal approach on the closer of Tigers Jaw’s fifth LP. It’s specific to the narrative, but also entirely apparent to their own. Losing three-fifths of their line-up in one fell swoop would have entirely derailed a lesser band. As luck would have it, Tigers Jaw are one of the most resilient and resolute acts to emerge in the fourth-wave emo revival. spin, as an LP, proves it. “Window” allows for the album to flicker and fade, its burn slow but ever so beautiful.

49. Jen Cloher – Forgot Myself

Picture this, dear reader: Jen Cloher, Courtney Barnett, Bones Sloane and Jen Sholakis enter a room. They take up their respective instruments, all facing one another from their respective stations. Greg Walker presses record. As R.E.M. once sang, sweetness follows. Jen Cloher abandoned her folk-rock roots some five years ago and has never looked back. It’s given her a Dylan-goes-electric reinvention, a second shot at glory and unquestionably her strongest LPs to date. It all starts here for Cloher’s eponymous fourth album, and once that groove is locked in there’s no getting out of it. You’ll see it coming, believe.

48. Calvin Harris feat. Future and Khalid – Rollin

Whether it’s Dizzee on the dancefloor or Rihanna finding love, Calvin Harris has always known the right people to put in front of his many sonic landscapes. His eye as a curator has never been keener than on Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1, where he tees up a seemingly-endless array of guest stars to bask in the sunshine of his G-Funk inspired beats. Teen wunderkind Khalid takes the impeccable chorus on “Rollin” (not to be confused with Limp Bizkit’s), while messianic mumbler Future vibes out the warbling synths and boom-bap rhythms. Name a more iconic duo? On “Rollin,” you can’t.

47. Dune Rats – Braindead

It’s class warfare whenever the topic of Dune Rats comes up in conversation. They’re simultaneously one of the country’s most beloved and most despised bands – and there’s not a lot of grey area to work with. It’s mostly green, actually. January’s The Kids Will Know It’s Bullshit didn’t convert any non-believers, but it nevertheless expanded their empire beyond their wildest dreams. “Braindead” gets by on some churning chords, a Lemonheads-y detour and one of their most primitive, simple bunny-mosh choruses. It showed exactly what could happen when these hazy-eyed slackers get their collective shit together – cutting the bullshit, if you will.

46. Tropical Fuck Storm – Chameleon Paint

After nearly 20 years at the helm of The Drones, Gareth Liddiard wanted to try something different. Enter Tropical Fuck Storm, a Melburnian supergroup containing the DNA of Harmony and High Tension for good measure. What’s ensued thus far is unlike anything the four members of the band have ever done before – not quite like this, anyway. Processed beats. Hyperdrive guitars. Haunting dissonance. It’s still unmistakably Liddiard out front, rattling off snarky mumbo-jumbo with the best of them (“FYI, a POV/Don’t make an NGO”). This time around, however, his voices bristles against the winds of change. Blowing a gust.

45. Future – Mask Off

Our scene is set care of Selma, a late-70s musical penned by one Tommy Butler. A song from a key part of the musical, “Prison Song” is a remorseful gospel number that swells with strings and a distinctive flute. The latter is what breathes life into “Mask Off,” which arrives some 40 years after Selma and serves as a true breakthrough moment for one Nayvadius DeMun Wilburn – whom you probably know better as Future. His drug-addled chants and moment of indecision turned into one of pop’s most inescapable choruses for 2017 – and with good reason, too. Percocet, anyone?

44. RAAVE TAPES – k bye

The band name is all-caps. The single title is all lower-case. Don’t let the latter fool you, though – THERE’S A LOT OF SHOUTING. There’s also a buzzing, electric riff that blasts through this motherfucker, too. Joab Eastley is a man possessed, sending his humble six-string into outer-space while he shrieks from the bottom of a K-hole just to be heard. Everything about “k bye” is decidedly batshit – and, in all honesty, it should not work nearly as well as it does. Maybe there’s something in the water up in Newcastle. Maybe their drinks got spiked. Who’s to say?

43. Azim Zain and His Lovely Bones – Dreams I Could Recall

Some 286 kilometres separate Sydney and Canberra. For just over a year, Azim Zain lived between the two – finding conflict and dead-ends, but also slivers of beauty. All of it was contained on his second EP, recorded with his Canberra-based backing band in Sydney. Keeping track so far? A little insight and introspection comes through on the EP’s single and easy standout, in which our hero stargazes and looks for solace in the in-between of his split-life living. The guitars glisten, his voice aches with pensive unrest and the poetic outro is one of the year’s most quietly-devastating moments.

42. Turnover – Super Natural

The cover of Good Nature, Turnover’s third album, depicts a utopian forest filled with animals. It’s based on reality, but doesn’t feel real itself. The same can be said of Good Nature itself – it sees and glistens in the same sunlight as us, but its sound drifts listeners away to somewhere beyond. It’s bathed in light, hazy on the horizon and gentle to the touch. The term “supernatural” has been used in every corner of music, from Santana to the Sugababes to last year’s Carly Rae Jepsen banger. Turnover, however, seem to incorporate it in an entirely new sense.

41. TOTTY – RIFF

Yes, “RIFF” has a sick riff. It’s jangly, it’s catchy and it’s all fuzzed out. “RIFF,” however, is more than just about shredding your geet. It’s an acronym, a YOLO for the burnouts: Remember, It’s For Fun. Wollongong’s TOTTY know all too well about having fun – they’re named after their singer’s dog, after all; and what’s more fun than dogs? Their sole purpose seems to be bringing a little bit of their own joy into the lives of others. To achieve that as early as your debut single is hitherto unheard of. Now sit, stay, roll over and enjoy.

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Hope you all had a great holiday period! Back next week for part four. Don’t forget to follow along on Twitter using the hashtag #DJY100, and follow the Spotify playlist below to listen to (nearly) all of the songs we’ve talked about so far: