Tag: rnb

The Top 100 Songs of 2022, Part Five: 20 – 1

Posted on by David James Young in Lists

Well, at the very least, I got this done earlier than last year. I finished this in a sweaty hotel room in Canberra, tip-tapping away while trying not to wake up the rest of the floor. I probably did awaken someone with my click-clacking, though – if only on account of being so excited to write about these songs at length. 2022 was fucking tough, and I genuinely don’t think I would have gotten through the year if I didn’t have songs like these as companions. Thank you to everyone responsible for them, and thank you to you (yes, you!) for reading along with this whole saga.

By the way: I just re-read what I wrote in Part Five of my DJY100 for 2021. “If I get this next one finished in February 2023 then it’s over for you bitches.” Guess what? It’s February 2023 still! It’s over for you bitches!

If you just came for the juicy bit, fair enough. If you’d like to catch up, however: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four. There ya go! Until next time.

– DJY, February 2023

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20. Fontaines D.C. – I Love You

In the emotional climax of the breathtaking video for Skinty Fia‘s second single, Grian Chatten (spoiler alert) pulls his heart directly out of his bleeding chest as he breathlessly details every way his homeland has failed him. The boys of Fontaines D.C. may be in the better land now, but they have not forgotten what D.C. stands for. ‘I Love You’ is their exorcism of every conflicting emotion that arises when discussing the blood in the streams of the Emerald Isle, seething behind its guttural bassline and tense, wiry guitars. Immense, weighty and an unflinching cycle between evolution and revolution.

19. Sly Withers – Passing Through

Sly Withers have centred endless imagery around flora – from the bougainvillea out the back to sibling albums Gardens and Overgrown. On ‘Passing Through’, they centre blossoming with hopes to bloom: a casual affair that only needs water and sunlight to thrive. Easier said than done, of course, when formed under cover of darkness. Though the emo-rockers pull no punches, they still know what hits hardest, brandishing both searing guitar crunch and Jono Mata’s unflinching everyman delivery. “Are you passing through? Or will you stay awhile?”, Sam Blitvich posits in the song’s bridge. By that point, the choice is obvious.

18. Peach Pit – Vickie

Peach Pit only give you a few minutes with ‘Vickie’ – both the song and the titular character therein. Such is the joie de vivre that ensues, however, you’ll come out the other end wishing to spend endless summer days with each by your side. The heart-shaped indie-pop number offers bright, springy keyboards that bounce off chiming acoustic strumming and the kind of vocal harmonies that melt in your mouth. Interwoven is a vivid portrait of a woman best described as imperfectly perfect – the kind that can only be handled in small doses, but ultimately you couldn’t do without.

17. The Beths – Silence is Golden

They say to show not tell, but what if you could do both in order to get the point across? On the writhing, skittering lead single from The Beths’ exceptional third album, the Auckland indie-rock band perfectly capture hypersensitive anxiety that comes from the clash, clatter and bang of the outside world. They’re able to execute this twofold: First through bustling drums and knife-edge guitars, and secondly through Liz Stokes’ bloodshot, hair-pulling lyrical conviction in tandem with panicked delivery. It goes to show what an unstoppable force The Beths are – particularly when they’re on collision with an immovable object.

16. Dry Cleaning – Don’t Press Me

One-minute 50 is all it took for Dry Cleaning to let you know they were back. Technically, they didn’t really go anywhere… but, they did strike while the iron was hot. ‘Don’t Press Me’ doesn’t take up any more time than it needs to, simultaneously feeling like the band we’d come to know but with just enough seasoning to give it a different taste. Tom Prowse, in particular, muscles in from the drop, trading chops on the six-string before giving way to a picked-out chorus and a bent lick amidst Florence Shaw’s utterly beautiful nonsense. This isn’t a game, rats.

15. Tears for Fears – Break the Man

Nearly 40 years on from when they first ruled the world and nearly 20 removed from their last album, Tears For Fears returned in 2022 as if no time had passed. The duo just seem to have an understanding of what makes songs tick: push-and-pull dynamics, vividly-detailed soundscapes and the timeless juxtaposition of folksy harmonies within electronic layering. ‘Break the Man’, with its glassy romanticism and exceptional chorus, could have been let all out into the very mad world of the 80s and still had listeners head over heels. Turns out the big chair was a throne this whole time.

14. Peace Ritual – Cold Shoulder

When Endless Heights defied their name and ended, its creative core split in separate directions. While one side developed a need for speed, the other opted for the slow lane and followed the sound of Vicious Pleasure to its logical pop-grunge conclusion. Joel Martorana’s Peace Ritual came prepared, with their debut EP marrying big-swinging alternative rock with lush soft lenses of dream-pop – a holy matrimony of soaring vocals and crashing guitars. ‘Cold Shoulder’ was the pick of the litter, allowing listeners to come a little closer and revel in what the freshly-minted band have created. The only way? Up.


13. Bloc Party – If We Get Caught

After losing their all-important rhythm section and firing off a dud album in Hymns, Bloc Party felt destined for past tense. Following a tour where they played Silent Alarm every night, however, the 2.0 version of the veteran UK band found a way to rekindle its roots. It arrived in the midst of soaring guitars, tender-queer lyricism and new-gen drummer Louise Bartle cementing her place in the fold with both exceptional stick-work and perfectly complementing backing vocals. ‘If We Get Caught’ is not only the band’s best single in a decade, it’s a testament to second chances. Sound the alarm.

12. Post Malone – Wrapped Around Your Finger

Post Malone’s fourth album was, mood-wise, a proper bummer. Not that he’d exactly been a ray of sunshine prior, but he did sing ‘Sunflower’ – and this record was more a wilted rose. Somewhere between the Fleet Foxes’ pit of despair and the forced Doja Cat smile, Posty struck the emotive balance on a love-lorn synth spiral with no features and all heart. Sporting the album’s best hook and sharpest production, the fact it was not selected as a single is baffling. Still, consider it your little secret with one of the biggest stars in the world. Wrap yourself up.

11. The 1975 – Happiness

“Show me what love is.” On the opening line of The 1975’s best song of The 2022, Matty Healy not only spelt out his band’s lyrical ethos but embodied his heart-shaped creative vision – all while saxophones sizzled away and the bass plucked and slapped beneath him. Perhaps the biggest reason ‘Happiness’ felt like such a bright spot was on account of it following on from ‘Part of the Band’ – a fizzer lead single that instilled fear for what was to come. Turns out we had nothing to worry about, and all it took was the pursuit of ‘Happiness’.

10. Pete & Bas – Mr. Worldwide

Ask any YouTube comment section, and they’ll agree: Whether Pete and Bas are “for real” or not, ultimately, doesn’t matter.

The septuagenarians emerged at the end of the decade as viral sensations, defying their age and the usual conventions of hip-hop – particularly grime – by dropping what can only be described as a series of surefire bangers. Sporting the kind of wordplay that rappers half their age – hell, a third their age – would rob someone at knife-point for, the view counts and streaming numbers shot up quicker than their lower back problems. Inevitably, with this came a question of the duo’s legitimacy, including theories that their entire raps were not only ghost-written, but performed by different people entirely – Milli Vanilli style. Some kid even made a 15-minute “investigative” video essay where he pretended to interview one of said ghostwriters. That’s how seriously people took the rap duo who released a song about how the only dance move they’re able to pull of is shuffling from side to side.

Here’s a hot take for you: If you can suspend your disbelief enough to accept that one of the biggest bands in the world is made up of four cartoon characters that include a man with dents in his head, an occult vampire, a mail-order android and a possessed giant, you don’t need to worry about Pete & Bas. As they’ll happily tell you, they’re doing just fine wherever they roam – which leads us to ‘Mr. Worldwide’, their best track to date and an absolutely staunch tour of the globe. Whether they’re in Dubai smoking doobies or feeling certi in Turkey, the rattling grime beat ensures you’re flying first class — in manner far more convincing than ‘First Class’ too, while we’re at it. Their trademark tag-team back-and-forth keeps the energy bubbling, and the deal is sealed with a hilarious clip that expands their dance repertoire in a way only they and their mates know how.

Sure, it’s not that deep. But it doesn’t matter. Hasta luego, baby.

9. Dulcie – tell ur friends

The love song, at its core, is about wants – which, contrary to popular opinion, can often outrank needs if the wanting is bad enough. I want you, you want me. You want me, I want you. I want you, you want someone else. You want me, I want someone else. We don’t want each other anymore – and yet, here we are. Variations on a theme ensue on an infinite feedback loop. What’s so interesting about ‘tell ur friends’ – the pop coming-out party for classically-trained indie queens Dulcie – is that it’s about the same wants on different terms.

Across a sparse guitar part, the scene is set – wanting to wash a former flame back in the DMs out of your hair, yet still being pulled back into their vortex (complete with a cute message notification sound in the background). The protagonist wants to go deeper, to not just be a side-piece – while the DM slider is talking the talk but never walking the walk. So on it goes, in a manner that feels both acutely targeted and decidedly universal in nature. That’s a rare balance to strike, and it’s entirely to Dulcie’s credit that they’re able to believably work both sides of the spectrum in such a manner.

‘tell ur friends’ specifically recalls Aussie pop-rock of the 2000s with a post-Avril sting in its raccoon tail. If you’ve ever sung ‘Everything I’m Not’ by The Veronicas or ‘Mistake’ by Stephanie McIntosh into a hairbrush, this is a song that will speak volumes – which is especially transient in nature, given the trio were likely in pre-school when both of those songs came out. From its fast-paced drum machine to its gooey layers of vocal harmony, the song’s synaesthesia gives off bright pink hues that darken to red outer edges – it’s cute, absolutely, but it’s also blood-boiled and tensely seething; teeth gritted between lip gloss.

The unknown assailant in Dulcie’s inbox doesn’t want to make their love affair public knowledge. It’s funny, really’ once you’ve heard ‘tell ur friends’, you’ll want the world to know.

8. The Northern Boys – Party Time

Remember those two old guys from just before? Turns out they’ve got mates – like, a bunch of them. Following the viral success of tracks like ‘The Old Estate’, the mysterious Sindhu World essentially launched the extended Pete & Bas universe. Of these leery elderly figures – collectively known as The Snooker Team – two immediately stood out from the pack: Norman Pain and Patrick Karneigh, Jr. The former is a bald, belligerent bloke who raps at two levels: Shouting and screaming. The latter, meanwhile, is well-dressed manic depressive who sneers out his rhymes with Abe Simpson level rambling and bars about his mental health that will have you putting the suicide hotline on speed-dial. Though both were perfectly entertaining on their own, Sindhu’s decision to merge them together – not unlike Simon Cowell creating One Direction – was the one thing each man needed.

In 2022, they debuted as The Northern Boys – ostensibly a duo, but counting themselves as a trio on account of their mate Kev. We know absolutely nothing about Kev aside from these three things: his name, his penchant for suits and a knack for dancing. He doesn’t talk, he doesn’t rap, he doesn’t sing. He’s just there. It’s like Bez from the Happy Mondays, or the guy from The Mighty Mighty BossTones. It makes absolutely no sense, and it’s perfect. The same, in its exact entirety, can be said of the “trio”’s debut single.

Instead of going for an original beat from one of the Sindhu go-tos like 91bshots, The Northern Boys lift the entire backdrop of ‘Party Time’ from what seems to be a karaoke track version of Estelle’s 2008 breakthrough hit ‘American Boy’. It’s an odd choice, but has turned out to be a blessing in disguise – the original has since been, shall we say, desecrated somewhat thanks to the inclusion of a certain white surpremacist. Now, instead of going West, the ‘American Boy’ instrumental will forever be associated with the North going south extremely quickly – in the best way possible, mind. So endlessly quotable is this riotous, ridiculous and entirely NSFW banger, the best way to experience it is a manner Pain would certainly approve of: Raw and without protection. Infection rates are high, but this is one thing you won’t want herd immunity from.

7. Dry Cleaning – Gary Ashby

Not since ‘Ben’, the ode to a rat sung by little Michael Jackson, has there been such a remarkable and surprisingly touching ode to an unconventional household pet. ‘Gary Ashby’, the third single from Dry Cleaning’s excellent second album Stumpwork, is not named after a man – fictional or otherwise. Rather, Gary Ashby was a tortoise. The past tense is used in this instance for reasons that should seem obvious, but thankfully his memory lives on in one of the most jangly, straightforward and frankly addictive tracks the London quartet have committed to record thus far in their still-blossoming career.

From its ‘Hard Day’s Night’ guitar and bass intro to its Johnny Marr twelve-string posturing, it’s a very fast-moving song for a famously slow-moving animal. For whatever reason, you suspect Gary would have appreciated that contrast. There’s a lot to say about Dry Cleaning, and plenty more that will be said in the future. In the meantime: Have you seen Gary?

6. Future Teens feat. Dan Campbell – Team Sports

At the start of the 2010s came a new term: Realist pop-punk. Not so much a sub-genre as an attitude, it’s essentially the sound of what happens when your subject matter goes from “why don’t girls like me?” to “how the fuck am I going to make rent this month?” The energy of your kickflip days remain, but your knees don’t quite bend like they used to; you’ve made the transition from weed to CBD oil. You’d still pick your friends over them, but those friends have got their own stuff going on. Throughout this period, bands like Transit, Fireworks, Mixtapes, Tigers Jaw, Polar Bear Club, The Menzingers and The Wonder Years (more on them in a second) were there to remind you: Things are hard, and they’re going to get harder, but you are not alone.

On their second album Self Care, Future Teens took up the mantle and delivered a collection of songs that proudly carry on this tradition – songs to stage-dive to with eyes brimming with tears. Best of the lot was ‘Team Sports’, which wielded steady guitar crunch in tandem with striking confessional lyricism meant for clenched fists and index fingers poised as weaponry. Most intriguing, however, was its subject matter: not issues of mental health itself, but the gaudy discourse surrounding it.

In a world of R U OK? Day and condescending infographics, there is a litany of well-meaning but ultimately dangerous rhetoric surrounding these issues – ultimately, amateur handling of a subject broached best by experts. “They just have to ask,” seethes Amy Hoffman, almost as if they’re pacing back-and-forth in time with the palm mutes. “I wish we could just talk about/The kinds of pain/We inflict on ourselves.” Its chorus slams the main riff into a hook worthy of the emo greats, while its final bridge culminates in a throat-tearing cameo from The Wonder Years’ very own Dan Campbell. If you needed a baton pass incarnate, stand back and just watch the fireworks.

When keeping it real goes wrong, there’s always Future Teens. It’s OK to not be OK.

5. Megan Moroney – Hair Salon

Grady Smith – arguably the Anthony Fantano of country music, with his highly-influential YouTube channel sporting nearly a quarter of a million followers – turns to the camera with a knowing grin. “This! Is! The! One!” he barks excitedly, snapping his fingers after all four words. For someone who ranks songs from a “yee-naw” to a “yee-haw”, it’s pretty clear what side of the scale he’s on here. The best part? He’s absolutely right.

The “one” in question is ‘Hair Salon’, the second-ever single from Georgia girl Megan Moroney, who began to bubble under with her excellent Pistol Made of Roses EP in 2022 before cracking the Billboard Hot 100 with the swaying, doe-eyed ‘Tennessee Orange’ – a remarkable feat for an artist ostensibly in their rookie year and in a genre where only heavyweights are able to make a dent in the non-genre-specific charts. You can’t get to orange on the colour spectrum, however, before going through two different sects.

The first is yellow – or, in this instance, blonde. The titular salon is a real place: Profiles Hair Salon, located on Green Street in Moroney’s hometown of Conyers GA. Bernadette is a real woman, too: Bernadette Johnson, co-owner and hairstylist. You don’t need to know these things in order for ‘Hair Salon’ to hit, but it’s this merging of reality with Moroney’s story-telling that gives the song a certain sense of gravitas. Small-town gossip swells, but as soon as her ex is mentioned the world comes to a stand-still. “Guess it’s a damn good day to go blonde,” she sings – resigned to her silver lining as the looming cloud comes to douse an old flame. Behold: The protagonist, all dressed up with nowhere to go.

The second is red. A heart is still the same colour even when it’s broken, after all. Moroney puts all of it into the song, her smokey southern-fried vocal fry sizzling over the steely acoustic guitar and the even steelier pedal steel. That’s the other thing that gets ‘Hair Salon’ over the line: Its utter conviction and dedication to the performance itself. Every corner of the song feels anchored in its time and place, sustaining that environment until the last chord rings out. She could be mad as hell, and go after his Chevy with the baseball bat, but here’s the thing: It wasn’t cheating. The ex did nothing wrong. “I’m stuck on how you moved on,” she sings – resigned to the fact that her platinum-blonde stasis is of her own doing. Behold: The protagonist, heartbroken in a hair salon.

At the time of writing, Moroney had just made her debut at the Grand Ole Opry. 2023 will likely see further belated success for ‘Tennessee Orange’ as it crosses over to radio. A debut album is sure to follow. We could be on the precipice of the next Miranda or Carrie – and if you thought that was a Sex and the City reference, you ain’t country. And to think: She saw it all on Green Street, at 10am, while Bernadette saw to her roots.

4. Steve Lacy – Bad Habit

In 2015, a 17-year-old guitarist joined the ranks of a the future-rnb collective, fronted by Odd Future alum Syd, wrapping his knack for six-string melodies and soulful songwriting around albums like Ego Death and Hive Mind. In 2022, the lead single from the now-24-year-old’s second solo album was shared around a popular social media app over 400,000 times – crossing over into streaming figures that would leave most jaws lying on the floor, if not all.

In both instances, this much is true: The Internet made Steve Lacy the man he is today.

So, what made ‘Bad Habit’ the wildfire runaway that it was? Paralleled with the other major hits of the year, it doesn’t share a great deal in common with them – it’s four-and-a-half minutes, which may as well be ‘The Decline’ by TikTok standards, not to mention its a capella dropout and subtle, tempered production that doesn’t layer in much beyond a weave of vocals and a reeling, phaser-laden guitar loop. It could be argued, then, that in a period where basically no new stars and no new hits were in any kind of Billboard circulation, the world at large was craving something new. For Lacy, this positioned him in the perfect X-Y axis of right place and right time – and, as luck would have it, he had just the right song.

So, what made ‘Bad Habit’ the wildfire runaway that it was? Thanks to Lacy’s progressively-minded approach, it ostensibly serves as a song of all seasons. His bisexuality allows for both straight and queer people to insert their desire into the song’s lustful lens; his mix of vintage Black soul affection and iPhone-wielding production allows for both old souls and the young at heart to revel in the song’s slow-motion limelight. Its instant hook – just six words, including one that’s repeated – lent itself to the rapid-fire nature of the information superhighway, and yet its depth beyond this snapshot also lent it to those alone in their bedroom with the record player spinning on 33. Whatever universe you exist within, ‘Bad Habit’ can – and will – be part of your world.

So, what made ‘Bad Habit’ the wildfire runaway that it was? Simply put, there is not a known reality where that didn’t happen. It’s of the now, it’s of then, it’s of perennial perpetuity. It’s biscuits, it’s gravy. It’s the new default setting for a fairly common song title. You’ve just got to make a pass at it.

3. Billy Nomates – blue bones (deathwish)

In his book They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us, Hanif Abdurraqib writes of a night seeing a band that have since become persona non grata, so will not be mentioned here – although you’ll likely figure it out from the next piece of information. The band conclude a performance of one of their songs, and Abdurraqib comments on its closing line: “Die young and save yourself.” He describes the lyric thusly: “I used to have [it] scrawled on a notebook before I got older and started to quite enjoy living – or, at least, stopped finding death romantic.”

It’s a very human experience: the baton pass from Shakespearean ideation to existential dread. “I hope I die before I get old” becomes “I’d like to stay forever”. For those that live to tell the tale, they need to ensure that they and those closest to them survive as long as humanly possible. On the lead single from her second album, Billy Nomates is talking through a megaphone to a lone figure on a ledge – part empathy, part reverse psychology, part philosophical musing. She shares a similar sentiment to Abdurraqib in the song’s smart, striking hooks: “Death don’t turn me on like it used to,” she croons across one; “The end don’t get me high like the start do,” she ruminates across another. There’s a lot to unpack, of course: The distillation of flirting of death itself, the joy of possibility, the call to not go gently into that good night. At the core of it, there is a spirit that can only arise from both going through hell and still going all the same.

Atop a swiftly-plucked bassline and robust drum machines, Nomates directly addresses someone on the brink of ending it all. At first, she seems merciless and unflinching: “If you wanna die, then do it/You don’t need my permission,” she bluntly remarks. “It’s such an iffy ambition.” Later, she reveals that this brutal tough-love mentality stemmed from her own direct experiences: “Living was a burden/I put myself in the hospital,” she confesses. When all you want to do is die, a fight for survival becomes imperative – and though she knows where the one on the verge is coming from, the only way out is together. “Not saying I’d save you,” she pre-empts. “Love is hollow/And for the brave few.” Nevertheless, perhaps this common ground is enough to stabilise beneath their feet: “Maybe we were both born blue.”

For such a morbid song, there’s a lot of life and light within ‘blue bones (deathwish)’. It beams through the speakers, its dynamic blend of new wave and post-punk adding just the right blend of coolness and warmth. Its brightness makes for a light at the end of the tunnel – and, for once, it’s not a train. Let Billy Nomates be your friend and save yourself.

2. Fontaines D.C. – Jackie Down the Line

In the opening moments of ‘Jackie Down the Line’, Grian Chatten exudes two of the most famous syllables of the tonic solfa, which are normally given absolute gusto and joy across pop music: “Doo, doo, doo/La, la, la.” Through the frontman’s laconic, accented drawl, however, they’re basically punched out of him. In past singles by the band, Chatten has largely been brash and belligerent – he’s gonna be big, he’s too real for ya, his life isn’t always empty. ‘Jackie’, however, might be the first one in which he has sounded completely and utterly miserable. Why? Because he’s seen this all before.

The titular ‘Jackie’ in this instance alludes to two separate terms – jack, lower case, and Jackeen, capitalised. If you don’t know jack, you don’t know anything; if it doesn’t amount to jack, it doesn’t amount to anything. Thus, just as Chatten’s protagonist is in the throes of a fresh romance, he is already envisioning the end. To be “Jackie down the line,” then, is to ultimately eventuate into nothing. You will be worn down, hurt and deserted. Jackeen, meanwhile, is an old-fashioned term – something that the creators of the albums Dogrel and Skinty Fia might know a thing or two about. It refers, in a derogatory manner, to someone from Dublin – the D in Fontaines D.C. To be “Jackie down the line,” then, is to be continually at a distance – stuck under the same city sky as always, or always elsewhere even when the stars align differently.

This downbeat and broken-hearted take on the band’s sound is accentuated by one of their most unique musical arrangements to date. The militant snare-roll that cracks through the opening motif immediately alerts attention, which is then kept by the deft Fender VI bass churn of Conor Deegan III. Both electric and acoustic guitars are pitted against one another – the former a sour surf snarl, catching the final crashing wave of an endless summer, while the former plugs into an MTV Unplugged tableau in tandem with the city’s rich folk music history. You’re encompassing an entire spectrum here – at once familiar and synchronised with the band’s oeuvre, yet simultaneously alien and aloof.

What’s perhaps the most striking element of ‘Jackie’, however, are the little things. It’s not just the doo doo doo. It’s not just the la la la. It’s not just the pound of the drum that booms like a pounding bodhrán. It’s when Chatten sings of “failing eyes,” and pontificating incompatibility with the turn of phrase “I don’t think we’d rhyme” – a morsel of writing that Chatten’s hero Seamus Heaney would have treasured in his prime. It’s the way Tom Coll stays on the ride cymbal for nearly the entirety of the song, allowing it to resonate out amidst whatever breathing space is left – and, in turn, making the switch over to the hi-hat in the second verse’s pre-chorus all the more startling. It’s when nearly everything pulls away, right before Chatten switches out “Jackie down the line” for “one Jackeen of a line” – itself coming moments before the crashing final chorus. It’s the rest of the band chiming in on another pop staple – “ooh sha-la-la” – with the same dark despondence as their frontman. In these moments, the little things aren’t so little anymore. They’re a journey unto itself; a line.

“I can’t find a good word for ya,” Chatten spits in the first verse. It’s the only part of the song that doesn’t ring true. This man uses words as weapons, and ‘Jackie Down the Line’ is an army of him.

1. The Beths – Expert in a Dying Field

Across a short yet fruitful period of time, The Beths have become not only the best band working in New Zealand but one of the most idiosyncratic, heartwarming indie-rock bands on the planet. You might dismiss this as hyperbole – after all, they’re the “nice” band. They’re the clean-cut, polite Kiwis – not a hair out of place, not a note out of tune. How could a band so inherently wholesome make a dent beyond merely a passing “well, this is nice, isn’t it”? The answer is twofold: What The Beths have to say, and how they go about saying it.

To exemplify this, let’s look at the three title tracks of their studio albums to date. All three take remarkable, unique turns of phrase and create thematic structures around them that may seem small but ultimately build to literary skyscrapers. ‘Future Me Hates Me’? I know that I will later regret this, and I will look back on the past with disdain, but I am taking this risk and making my claim in the present because right now, it’s all I have. ‘Jump Rope Gazers’? We are looking upon a very depiction of innocence and carefree spirit itself, longing to be in such a position ourselves – if only we knew the way back to the schoolyard from the unforgiving nature of the city.

What, then, of ‘Expert in a Dying Field’? Liz Stokes – AKA the eponymous Beth – asks point-blank in the chorus how it feels to be just that. She’s always liked open interpretation of her work, so allow this as a stab in the dark. The field itself can be seen as a big-picture perspective on creativity and being a working musician. Since the pandemic, the arts have continued to struggle – even seemingly-progressive politicians are barely handing out peanuts when compared to their fossil-fuel friends. And yet, the compulsion continues. “I can flee the country/For the worst of the year/But I’ll come back to it.” Even if you’re able to sustain some semblance of a career, you can’t outrun – or out-fly – your problems. You can play every secret chord that the Lord abides by, and yet you’ll never fully embrace the victory march.

To hone in for a closer look, the dying field can be the battlefield Pat Benatar sang of all those years ago. Heartache to heartache, none of which can be erased from history. “You can’t stop, can’t rewind/Love is learned over time/Until you’re an expert in a dying field.” You’ve put in all this time, effort and care – in spite of your future you – to jump-rope gaze with another, and it all seems to have been for nothing when you go your separate ways. There’s no eternal sunshine for your spotless mind, either. “I can close the door on us/But the room still exists/And I know you’re in it.” Even if you’re able to move on, you can’t outrun the problems that created that stasis of being to begin with.

So, that’s what The Beths have to say. They go about saying it with a litany of striking guitar techniques – from its melodic lead picking to its propulsive palm-mute chorus, bowling over into the ringing chords that are pelted out into the ether by Tristan Deck’s muscular drum crashes. The echoing chorus – right on the tail of Stokes – adds an immediate urgency to her line of questioning, while Jonathan Pearce reprising key lines of the chorus in the all-in outro feels akin to the final stretch of a musical’s 11 o’clock number. No, Broadway is not the epicentre of any sort of rock revolution – but when it hits its emotional crescendo, just like here, there is not a dry eye in the room.

The Beths are more than just a nice band with nice songs. They are actively creating songs that are spaces to feel less alone within. To feel both heard and seen. To ruminate on your future, to gaze upon innocence lost. To reckon with plausible deniability. To close doors and open windows. To be an expert in a dying field.

***

Listen to the entire 2022 DJY100 here:

Tracks featuring non cis-male musicians = 49
Tracks featuring Australian artists = 42

Multiple entries:

The Weeknd (95, 84), Teenage Dads (93, 92), Pharrell Williams (91, 90), Tasman Keith (87, 37), Billy Nomates (86, 3), Pete & Bas (85, 10), 1300 (80, 46), Wet Leg (79, 50), Gang of Youths (67, 39), Megan Moroney (58, 5), Future Teens (57, 6), Full Flower Moon Band (56, 49), Dry Cleaning (32, 16, 7), Sly Withers (31, 19), The 1975 (28, 11), The Northern Boys (23, 8), The Beths (21, 17, 1), Fontaines D.C. (20, 2)

The DJY100 of 2022 is dedicated to Andrew McDonald. We love you, Andrew.

The Top 100 Songs of 2021, Part Four: 40 – 21

Posted on by David James Young in Lists

What’s good? Sorry this is late – life, uhh, gets in the way. Anyway, happy to be here. List Season ends when I SAY it ends, dammit! Right, admin before we crack on: Make sure you catch up on Part One, Part Two and even Part Three if you’re feeling particularly adventurous. That one’s for all my completionists out there. Alright, on with the show!

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40. Squid – Paddling

There’s lots of descriptors thrown around when discussing Brighton’s Squid. If there was one to rule them all, however, it’s “frenetic.” Even at over six minutes long – a considerable slog for some of Squid’s post-punk peers – “Paddling” is always in a hurry. Its guitar licks elbow in edgeways, its drums barely relent in their bloodthirsty quest to keep the beat and the trifecta vocal trade-off ensures it’s in a constant state of coming in from all angles. “Don’t push me in,” barks drummer Ollie Judge with an increasing sense of dread. Who’d dare fence in this gelatinous beast?

39. Lil Nas X – MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)

It was the pole dance heard ’round the world. The most unabashedly gay pop smash of all time slid its way into the collective conscience’s hearts and minds the second it dropped. It would remain there rent-free for the remainder of the year, even when the cycle moved onto the next Lil Nas X controversy – and there always seemed to be one. Wherever you ended up, it was hard to deny “MONTERO.” Its stomping flamenco spice, its aggressively suggestive lyrics and its hip-shaking switch-ups ensured that even when the circus eventually left town, “MONTERO” never did. It’s still peachy.

38. Great Job! – Vodka Chunder

It’s not so much that youth is wasted on the young – it’s that the youth are wasted. Like, a lot. There’s been drinking songs since well before Great Job! were born, and it’s a tradition they carry with their own antipodean spin. “You smell like vodka and chunder,” cheers Charlie Hollands in the chorus, which will no doubt elicit plenty of memories and imagery of house parties gone by. In amidst the nostalgia, however, lies a pub-rock urgency that makes “Vodka Chunder” feel entirely in the moment. It’s songs like that this that will ensure you feel forever young.

37. Silk Sonic – Leave the Door Open

Bruno Mars was due a comeback after his mid-2010s streak that started on “Uptown Funk” and ended on “Finesse.” Few, however, were expecting Mars hauling funky drummer and fellow R&B aficionado Anderson .Paak along for the ride. “Leave the Door Open” wasn’t an obvious lead single, but as a debut it now makes perfect sense: the sonics don’t get much silkier than this all-time slow jam of wine, robes and rose petals. Mars and .Paak trade off one another perfectly, with the double-time outro feels especially celebratory. With satisfaction guaranteed, Silk Sonic ensured their first impression was a long-lasting one.

36. Spiritbox – Secret Garden

Canadian metal act Spiritbox focus heavily on aesthetics. Their merch moves huge numbers, they shoot elaborate music videos and there’s a distinct glossiness to every photo of them. This might be a problem if they didn’t have the songs to complement it, but as their exceptional debut Eternal Blue testifies they are an all-in audio-visual experience that thrives on both ends of the spectrum. Best of all is “Secret Garden,” a resplendent djent adventure that’s smooth to the touch but doesn’t shy from rough edges. If Courtney LaPlante’s absolutely monstrous chorus doesn’t turn you into the Maxell guy, nothing will.

35. Billie Eilish – Your Power

The bombast of Billie Eilish’s “Happier Than Ever” was one of the musical moments of 2021. Great as it was, though, its hotdogging and grandstanding was playing to the back rows of the stadium. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, as Seinfeld said, but if you wanted the real show-stopping moment on Happier Than Ever you had to listen that little bit closer. With little more than Finneas’ steely acoustic guitars and close harmonies guiding her, Eilish painted a damning portrait of a cunning manipulator. It’s clearly hers, but the iciness is cold enough to be felt by everyone.

34. Unknown Mortal Orchestra – That Life

Do we take Unknown Mortal Orchestra for granted? Maybe. Like, it could be argued they’re consistent to the point of it being unsurprising after all these years in the game. Of course their comeback single was excellent – the sky happens to be blue as well, y’know. In all honesty, it was the help of a little blue guy and his impeccable choreography work that lead this song to truly stick in hearts and minds. As Ruban Nielsen laments the world collapsing around him amidst “Billie Jean” drums and tape-loop guitars, there’s really nothing else to do but dance apocalyptic.

33. Duran Duran – INVISIBLE

Consider Duran Duran comparable to another thing English people love, Neighbours. Despite never really leaving for 35-plus years, mentioning them in the modern era will inevitably elicit an incredulous “Is that still going?” Indeed, “INVISIBLE” was the lead single from their 15th(!) studio album – and if we’re told to dance like no-one’s watching, then Duran Duran are playing like no-one’s listening. With pop aspirations long gone, they instead melt down their New Romantic aesthetics and mould them into a darker, stranger image – all with Blur’s Graham Coxon making weird guitar shapes for good measure. Still hungry; never ordinary.

32. Royal Blood – Typhoons

Being a guitar-less rock band wasn’t enough of a gimmick for Royal Blood to hang their jackets on beyond one admittedly-excellent EP in 2014. When “Trouble Coming” dropped in late 2020, it felt symbolic of the Worthing duo getting their collective mojo back. They weren’t done, either: in the third week of 2021, “Typhoons” made its splash and continued to make waves for the rest of the year. With their most snarling groove in years, the band aped Muse circa Black Holes plus Supergrass circa… well, Supergrass. What could’ve been a natural disaster ended up as Royal Blood’s redemption arc.

31. Coconut Cream – Your Drug on Computers

You know you’re onto something when members of Middle Kids and Gang of Youths are investing early. Coconut Cream may have friends in high places, but the fact of the matter is they’re unquestionably headed there themselves. Proof? “Your Drug on Computers” offers a compelling contrast between niche nostalgia and its 21st-century Sydney setting. It’s a song of lost infatuation and old flames, brought back to flickering life through jangly guitars and the kind of rousing chorus that could fill a festival ground. As their second EP looms, make sure you’re on board before they’re inevitably off to bigger things.

30. Fred again.. – Dermot (See Yourself in My Eyes)

The premise of Fred again..’s Everyday Life project was simple: Lift samples of voices, famous or otherwise, and retool them into his own brand of technicolour house. The albums are both ostensibly variations on a theme, but these one-trick ponies well and truly know their way around the racecourse. It all comes down to Fred’s vision and his impeccable arrangements – simmering, submerged; then bursting forth, cascading. Dermot Kennedy is a singer-songwriter with a great voice, but usually his blue-eyed fare is lacking je ne sais quoi. Here, he soars over clattering piano and bustling beats. The ordinary becometh extraordinary.

29. Silk Sonic – Smokin Out the Window

If you’re doing a pastiche of any kind, it’s imperative you incorporate all aspects. Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak, leading by example, have everything about the Soul Train era downpat – the clothes and the grooves, certainly, but also the histrionics. So much of it is downright ridiculous, and “Smokin Out the Window” exemplifies it to a T. Case in point: If you weren’t walking around for weeks on end yelling “THIS. BITCH.” at inopportune moments, you straight up missed out. A genuinely hilarious slice of retro-pop perfection, “Smokin” proves that when God closes a door, he opens a window.

28. We Are Scientists – Contact High

It always felt like indie nerds We Are Scientists never got their due – 2005’s With Love and Squalor, after all, had to compete with a crowded scene across both the US and UK. Still, the endearing duo has never given up or cashed in the reunion-tour card – just as well, really, given they’re still fully capable of driving, robust indie-rock. “Contact High” is arguably their best since 2009’s “After Hours,” its slit-speaker guitar distortion and A-Ha worthy chorus transcending decades. The subsequent album Huffy may have been slept on, but “Contact” showed that the formula is still downpat.

27. I Know Leopard – Day 2 Day

Sydney indie darlings I Know Leopard have never shied from introspect – indeed, it served as central to their 2019 debut Love is a Landmine from a lyrical standpoint. Never quite before, however, has frontman Luke O’Loughlin come across quite as vulnerable and defeated as this. Even pitted against one of the band’s brightest and most resplendent piano-pop arrangements to date, as he bemoans losing “another piece of me” in deceptively-cheery falsetto. Even if they weren’t open for most of 2021, no song quite took to the concept of “crying in the club” than “Day 2 Day.” A bittersweet triumph.

26. Noah Dillon – That’s Just How I Feel

Underneath that mane of frizz atop his head, Perth singer-songwriter Noah Dillion possesses a brain that just seems to have songwriting all figured out. He takes to the usual garage-rock chord progression with aplomb, but he weaves more than enough personality and innovative twists into the mix for it to be inextricably his. “That’s Just How I Feel” is perhaps the best example of his still-young career, bounding through the handclap traffic and guitar snarls to wax poetic on sourdough warriors, tough cookies, family and young love. It’s enough to make you remark aloud: Dillon, you son of a bitch.

25. Jake Bugg – Lost

Nearly a decade removed from the rambling folk-rock of his self-titled debut, Nottingham’s Jake Bugg took a considerable gamble and reassembled his entire musical structure. Forget Dylan being called Judas for going electric, Bugg could have been decreed Satan himself for how much he changed things up. As any self-respecting Satanist knows, though, Hell ain’t a bad place to be. It’s called “Lost,” but Bugg has never sounded more sure of where he is – the hypnotic loop of the piano, the swelling synth strings, that goddamn bassline. Smash the acoustic and lower the mirrorball: Jake Bugg 2.0 has arrived.

24. Big Red Machine feat. Taylor Swift – Renegade

Of all the cultural shifts that came with the pandemic, Aaron Dessner and Justin Vernon being added to to a list of teenage girls’ obsessions was one of the more unexpected. Then again, so was them crossing paths with the most famous person in the world – and yet, here we are. Of the three Swift/Vernon/Dessner collabs thus far, “Renegade” is the most conventional. Don’t let that detract from its cleverness and exuberance for a second, though. The understated indietronica environment is surprisingly pitch-perfect for Ms. Swift, who offers starry-eyed wondering for Vernon to add perfectly-contrasting harmonies to. Opposites attract.

23. Wavves – Sinking Feeling

The trajectory of Wavves from lo-fi underdog to indie darling to heel landlord has been bizarre, to say the least. They arrived in 2021 broken, battered and bruised – and lead saddest foot forward. Hideaway‘s lead single, “Sinking Feeling” takes Nathan Williams and co. on a magic boat ride of sour psychedelia. Somewhere in the valley between The Zombies’ “She’s Not There” and Wanda Jackson’s “Funnel of Love,” this solemn dance to the end turned out to be the band’s best song in nearly a decade. Heavy is the head that wears the crown that reads King Of The Beach.

22. Kanye West – Jail

The trick of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is that you’re always paying attention to what isn’t there. “Jail,” the beginning of Donda‘s exhaustive 100-minute journey, pulls the same trick – except this time, the lights being out makes Ye all that more dangerous. Only two layers of guitars – one stabbing, one wailing – guide Yeezy’s diatribe from the back of the cop car. When he’s no longer alone, you notice: Gang vocals underline lines like “We all liars,” while a certain mysterious superhero swoops in for verse three. He’s carried by the single set of footprints in the sand.

21. Debbies – Sinner

Debbies are born from a coastline defined by bushfire regrowth and teenage boredom. To entirely dismiss the duo as Gen-Z grommits, however, misses the bigger picture of a song like “Sinner.” There’s something darker in the water – that shift from “I think I fucked up my liver” in verse one to “future” in verse two hits especially different. Debbies, truth be told, are just as lost as your average Lockie Leonard – but they’re finding their way, with “Sinner” serving as a guiding light through difficult terrain. More than barely-legal burnouts, these are young men with something to say.

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Listen to the DJY100 thus far in the Spotify playlist below:

Back next week with part five!

The Top 100 Songs of 2021, Part Three: 60 – 41

Posted on by David James Young in Lists

Hey! Sorry it took me awhile to get this up. I got COVID! Heard of it? It’s not great! Anyway, hope you enjoy this sail over the halfway mark. Promise this’ll be done by the end of the month. While you’re at it, why not catch up on Part One here and Part Two here? There ya go!

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60. Silk Sonic – Skate

What do women want? It’s been a hot-button topic for many a year now, and most men are still without answers. Needless to say, Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak are not most men. They saw the absolutely massive uptick of women getting into rollerskating over the last 12 to 18 months, and they promptly cashed in with a blissful roller-disco ode to the phenomenon. You could be cynical about it being opportunistic, but “Skate” is way too sunny to succumb to such a dismissal. It’s a broad, beautiful smile of a song – and it’s exactly what women want, too.

59. WILLOW feat. Travis Barker – t r a n s p a r e n t s o u l

Most of you probably haven’t thought of Willow Smith in a decade… and she’s only 21. Somewhere in the throes of her teens and early 20s, the former child star stopped whipping her hair long enough to notice the world around her. This resulted in a guitar-heavy pop-rock comeback for the ages, helmed by red-carpet walker (and occasional drummer) Travis Barker. The same swagger that carried her tween hit is very much intact – she’s the daughter of a Fresh Prince, after all – but its moody, darker corners breathe new life into this still-burgeoning and fascinating career. With soul.

58. The Buoys – Lie to Me Again

One of The Buoys’ first tracks was “Liar Liar” – a rambunctious garage-punk number about a no-good ex, packed with the usual early-20s angst amidst clattering drums and rousing guitars. The topic is revisited four years later on “Lie to Me Again,” with a changed line-up but the constant of frontwoman Zoe Catterall. Here, she approaches the jilted former lover with the kind of calm that can only come before a storm. It’s not as in-your-face as its predecessor, but its impact is promptly doubled by its barbed lyricism and righteously-convicted chorus. This much is true: The Buoys light up.

57. Geese – Low Era

We’re getting to that stage in history where people with compound sentences for birth years are making some of the most exciting new music. One such act are indie-disco punks Geese, who were scooped up in a bidding war circa 2020. Now the Brooklynites have arrived in earnest for us to gander at, “Low Era” feels especially pertinent – reminiscent of when The Rapture and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah hit the scene. Will Geese have staying power beyond this fleeting infatuation? Impossible to tell. For this moment of post-punk zeitgeist, however, they’re the only living band in New York.

56. Gang of Youths – the angel of 8th ave.

Prior to the pandemic, Gang of Youths moved to London and brought in Noah & The Whale‘s Tom Hobden. This season of growth and change persisted, even in the midst of global shutdown. “angel” was GOY bursting forth and rising to the occasion once more, delivering heartland pop with prolix professionalism. Its parade of shimmering strings, syncopated claps and perhaps Max Dunn’s finest bass-line yet ensured that the Gang was back in business. They might not be a big fish in a little pond anymore, but “the angel of 8th ave.” proved that there was still blood in the water.

55. Halsey – Bells in Santa Fe

If you said this time last year that one of 2021’s most fruitful collaborations would be between Halsey and Nine Inch Nails, you might’ve had more concern raised than if you’d started coughing into your fist and offering handshakes. Nevertheless, they persisted. With additional production from unexpected outsider The Bug, “Bells” sets a scene somewhere between Fair Verona and oblivion with its spiralling synthesizer orchestra. Halsey’s increasing desperation as she tears pages from her Bible and comes to term with impermanence make for one of the most arresting performances of her career. It boils, it burns and it transforms into…

54. Halsey – Easier Than Lying

Halsey has flirted with heaviness in the past (see her underrated “Experiment On Me”), but “Easier Than Lying” hits different. That’s not just a saying, by the way – from its snarling bass to its siren-wail outro and the anchoring of its frenetic drum-and-bass backbeat, there’s never been a song in Halsey’s canon quite like this one. With the intense pacing of a car chase, the song’s relentless energy is carried by another ice-cold, sting-in-the-tail performance from none other than Ms. “Without Me” herself. There was a time when Trent Reznor once marched with the pigs. In 2021, Halsey ran.

53. Citizen – I Want to Kill You

The lead single of every Citizen record since their modern genre classic debut Youth has felt like its own reset. “Cement” forged into slinking alt-rock; “Jet” rode the wave of… well, The Wave… and now “I Want to Kill You” has introduced disco drums and post-punk frenetic ferocity. The best part is that it all still feels like Citizen each time – Matt Kerekes’ writhing yelp, the steely fretwork of the Hamm brothers and that propulsive emotional build that ensures Citizen From Toledo, Ohio can be heard around the world. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and Citizen are absolutely jacked.

52. Polish Club – Stop for a Minute

Polish Club can get as goofy as anyone. They play silly games, make knowingly-hideous album art… even in this song’s video, frontman David Novak chows down on a sanga while dancing in a tux. What “Stop for a Minute” does best, however, is cut through the bullshit – even in what’s arguably the most fun musical environment the duo has ever set up for itself. That seething frustration seeps through the cracks in the mirrorball that separate the art from the artist, rattling from the ceiling against the bass drum kick. It’s not the clown crying anymore: It’s pissed disco.

51. Toby Martin – Linthwaite Houdini

Be it a pregnant city dweller or a radicalised immigrant teenager, Toby Martin has always thrived telling stories that aren’t his own with a surprising sense of belonging. The lead single from his third solo album is no exception, where he hears tell of a small-town escape artist whose grand scheme doesn’t go according to plan. Amongst the wallowing trumpet and the slinking waltz drums, Martin’s writing encompasses the envisioned triumph and the ultimate tragedy that emerges from a story as unique as this one. The truth is stranger than fiction, and few Australian songwriters truly get that like Martin.

50. Olivia Rodrigo – brutal

“Where’s my fucking teenage dream?” For an artist that was introduced to the world via post-Lorde piano balladry, few could have expected the veneer to crumble quite like it did on Olivia Rodrigo’s debut album opener. As that riff churns, she wants it on record that this sweet life of celebrity and status is far from perfect – in fact, it’s tearing her apart inside. “brutal,” true to its name, is the heaviest song on SOUR by a considerable margin. It’s a living, seething testament to the year pop was allowed to rock again. Teenage angst, meet This Year’s Model.

49. Tasman Keith feat. Kwame – ONE

It started off as a rib, when short-king MC Tasman Keith got photos taken with the towering Kwame. What ended up revealing itself over the coming weeks, however, proved this: These motherfuckers weren’t playing. “ONE” is the best song either artist has been a part of – and considering the calibre of their already-illustrious careers, that’s not said lightly. From its urgent beat to its belligerent flow, there’s absolutely no backing down on any front. When the duo knocked this out of the park on The Set, Kwame boasted: “Rap song of the fucking year.” You’re inclined to believe him.

48. Springtime – Will to Power

Gareth Liddiard had a surprisingly fruitful year. Tropical Fuck Storm’s lockdown record finally came out, he reinvented his catalogue live with Jim White and he undertook a new journey entirely with Springtime. Liddiard, White and The Necks pianist Chris Abrahams are no strangers to music with a freer, looser form than your average. That factors into their debut single “Will to Power,” but it’s far from the only story. It’s a sprawling, darkly-shaded take on Liddiard’s barbed Australiana through a strange, dirty lens. Against cascading guitar, creaking piano and the sturdy drumming shuffle of the unmistakable White, Springtime truly blossoms.

47. Holy Holy – How You Been

Somewhere in the shadow realm between pop that rocks and rock that pops lies Holy Holy. Across four studio albums, the Melbourne-via-Tasmania duo who have slowly but surely built a reputation as one of the country’s more likeable and endearing indie hit-makers. “How You Been” showcases the duo at their key strengths. Frontman Timothy Carroll’s performance is heartfelt and rousing; guitarist Oscar Dawson’s buoyant production, meanwhile, allows everything from the rubbery bass-line to the triumphantly OTT solo to cohesively gel. It’s an electric pop effort designed for dancing like no-one’s watching – much like Carroll himself in the accompanying video.

46. Limp Bizkit – Dad Vibes

hot dad ridin in on a rhino

45. Deafheaven – Great Mass of Color

In retrospect, perhaps we could have all seen Deafheaven’s stylistic departure coming. They have, after all, seemingly always existed on the very fringes of heavy metal itself – what’s one extra push out of the genre entirely? “Great Mass of Color” was a headfirst dive into the great unknown – one that, admittedly, could have seen the Northern Calfornia quintet land flat on their face. Instead, however, the band was immersed in a crystallised bliss that revelled in its tranquil undercurrent in tandem with its bursting, resplendent refrain. It’s like a dream, to borrow a phrase. You want to dream.

44. Ruby Fields – R.E.G.O

Ruby Fields is lots of things, but a rockstar is not one of them. She’s just Rubes, slinging beers at the local to get by and shooting the shit with the regulars. “R.E.G.O” is a rumination on this lifestyle – living paycheck to paycheck, but having the inextricable bonds of friendship keeping it afloat. “Haven’t you always wanted to feel like that?” Fields asks, again and again. She’s saying what we’re all thinking, and she knows it. It’s bolstered by her impeccable band, with a special nod to Adam Newling’s fret-bending lead work. Worth a coin in the tip jar.

43. Turnstile – MYSTERY

2021 was Turnstile’s year. No ifs, buts or maybes. The Baltimore natives elevated American hardcore to a level arguably not seen since John Belushi moshed to Fear at 30 Rock – the same building, coincidentally, that Turnstile saw out the year performing inside as part of Late Night. There, they played the track that launched their year: “MYSTERY,” a song that dares anyone feeling froggy to go ahead and leap. Brendan Yates’ boisterous yelp, pondering the great unknown, ricochets off churning guitars and walloping drums to forge something full of life that proudly goes down swinging. Consider the mystery solved.

42. No Rome feat. Charli XCX and The 1975 – Spinning

Around August, Charli XCX dropped an ambigious tweet with a question that left her devotees guessing: “rip hyperpop?” Her two singles since this have indicated a new direction is imminent for March’s Crash, which means that “Spinning” might be her last true hurrah as a glitched-out pop weirdo for the time being. If that’s the case, what a way to go out. Trust the Dirty Hit all-stars to assemble an all-star dirty hit – an all-syrup squishee bender with intense hypercolour and a robotic empire of Charlis parroting the titular phrase on a telling loop. She’s making us dizzy, still.

41. easy life – skeletons

“skeletons” is so excited to get going, it practically trips over itself – cue the tumbling drums and smash-cut to the word of the day. It’s a disarming beginning to a song that coasts on smooth sailing, but that may well be the point. A closer inspection, of course, sees that this future-soul cut from the Leicester lads portrays purported paranoia over a partner’s playful past. It’s a little Mac Miller; a little Rex Orange County; a little Hot Chip. There’s some fascinating moving parts at play here. What easy life have concocted, ultimately, is guaranteed to rattle some bones.

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Listen to the DJY100 thus far in the Spotify playlist below:

Back next week with part four!

The Top 100 Songs of 2015, Part One: 100 – 81

Posted on by David James Young in Lists

It’s about that time, folks. You know how this one goes. Good, clean fight to the finish. All genres, countries and ages accepted. Only one rule: No touching of the hair or face. Alright, let’s get it on!

To pre-game, why not take a listen to this supplementary list of 50 great songs that just missed out on the top 100?

As always, DISCLAIMER: This is not a list of the most popular songs, nor is it a list curated by anyone except myself. These are, in my view, the best songs of the year. Disagreement and discussion is welcomed, but ultimately if you have any real issues with any songs that are ranked too low, too high or not at all… make your own list!

– DJY, December 2015

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100. Cosmic Psychos – Fuckwit City

The greatest moments in the 30-plus year canon of Cosmic Psychos have been helmed by the infamous snarl of Ross Knight, so it’s a rare treat to hear a lead vocal from the band’s pot-bellied riff-bearer, John “Mad Macca” McKeering. Macca’s no crooner – but, then again, neither’s Knighty. It’s not exactly a top priority when there’s a big, stomping riff and a middle-finger-waving chorus to smash through. The accompanying video, which sees the band smashing tinnies and chowing down on snags, gets the point across better than words ever could: them’s the Psychos. They’re not to be fucked with.

99. Kissing Booth – Battlefield

“Battlefield” has been a staple of Kissing Booth’s live shows more or less since their formation, and it’s easy to see why – if it’s not Tom Jenkins’ thunderous tom rolls that lead it in, it’s the earnest, raised-fist chorus and undying mantra of “you’ve got the strength in you to succeed” that will firmly seal the deal. Recorded at long last for their debut, Never Settle, “Battlefield” became a highlight once again – it’s a slow-waltz through love-and-war metaphors and swinging twin-guitar warmth, reeling in listeners before bowling them over. If love is a battlefield, consider Kissing Booth victorious.

98. You Beauty – Illywhacka

They’re not pioneers of writing about love from a hardened, cynical perspective – and Lord knows they won’t be the last. What spices up the title track to You Beauty’s second album is knowing it’s from the perspective of a scam artist – someone who makes a living saying things but never meaning them. “If I misuse the words/I’m not the first,” he justifies at one point; “I do believe it’s unconscious like the rest,” he affirms at another. Throw in some thwacking snare rolls and a Johnny Marr-worthy guitar tone and you’re ready to fall for anything he says.

97. Frank Turner – The Next Storm

Positive Songs for Negative People, Turner’s comeback LP from the middle of 2015, was thematically centred on Turner refusing to let pessimism and a slew of personal ordeals serve as the obstacles they once were. As bar-room piano leads him into a fist-wielding rock shuffle, Turner takes a matter as pedestrian as the weather and lets it blossom into the perfect metaphor for his sunnier outlook. It might seem naff – especially if Turner has ever felt too endearing – but it’s hard to deny a shout-along to a refrain as wonderfully succinct as “Rejoice! Rebuild! The storm has passed!”

96. Young Fathers – Rain or Shine

Young Fathers are in it to win it, because having the Mercury just wasn’t enough. The trio – alongside Sleaford Mods – were two major acts to properly turn British music on its head and expose a darker, more unpleasant side of their respective homelands last year. It’s telling that both immediately followed up their world-class 2014 breakthroughs in 2015; equaling – and occasionally bettering – their predecessors. This slab of sweet-and-sour alt-hop stays true to its name; throwing a Motown worthy ‘hey-hey-hey’ into the blender with some deadpan abstract poetry. Theirs is a revolution that is still… well, revolving.

95. Alabama Shakes – Don’t Wanna Fight

Perhaps the most piercing, indescribable squeal this side of Kings of Leon’s “Charmer” is what lead us into the first single from Alabama Shakes’ long-awaited second album. The groove was very much still in the heart for Brittany Howard and co., shuffling through a head-nodding lick and a driving four-on-the-floor beat before letting loose a truly righteous falsetto-disco chorus that takes on double duty as a harken-back to vintage soul. Much like their finest moments from Boys & Girls, “Don’t Wanna Fight” is some kind of genre Voltron. In the right context, it’s a fully-formed and unstoppable machine. Right on.

94. Horrorshow feat. Thelma Plum, Jimblah and Urthboy – Any Other Name

This protest song, dropped in the wake of horrendous abuse toward now-retired AFL player Adam Goodes, is an endlessly-quotable all-star tirade against the systemic, institutionalised racism that has become more and more prevalent in modern Australian society. Each artist brings their A-game across the track’s runtime, laying their heart out on their sleeves and making it exceptionally clear who is in the wrong. The track’s mic-drop moment comes with Solo’s damning, defiant final point: “Racist is as racist does/So if you’re doing something racist/Hate to break it, you’re a racist, cuz.” This is our wake-up call. Australia, this is you.

93. Hockey Dad – Can’t Have Them

2014 was the year of Zach Stephenson and Billy Fleming, the Windang wunderkinds that wrote the best Australian song of the year and sent audiences young and old into a hair-flipping frenzy. It would have been entirely understandable if they wanted to go for their afternoon nap this year, but it appears the red cordial is still running through their veins. This stand-alone single is a bright, bouncy hip-shaker that strengthens Stephenson’s knack for cooed, wordless refrains and Fleming’s primitive boom-thwack Ringo fills. It bodes considerably well for the band’s imminent debut LP next year. Game on, you little scamps.

92. Drake – Know Yourself

The mixtape lifestyle suited Drake this year. Dropping new material when he felt like it with no label pressure and no pushing for a greater ambition meant that the man born Aubrey Graham was allowed to have a lot more fun. Amid the dozen-plus new songs that arrived on the If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late mixtape, it was this centrepiece that sent fans into a tailspin. Its clanking trap beat, its obnoxious sub-bass and that hook – Drizzy can make this shit happen without even trying these days. You know how that shit go. Airhorns at the ready.

91. Beach Slang – Bad Art & Weirdo Ideas

In the same year that Weston, the pop-punk band James Alex was a part of in the 90s, reunited for a handful of shows; Alex also got a second wind with the momentum of his new band, Beach Slang, who became one of 2015’s most hyped rock bands. It’s easy to both see and hear why this was the case: the paint-splatter ride cymbal, its two-chord fury; not to mention the wordless refrains one has to unlock their jaw in order to properly sing out. We are all in the garage, but some of us are looking at the stars.

90. Endless Heights – Teach You How to Leave

Every year, Endless Heights inch further and further away from the forthright melodic hardcore with which they made their name. Every year, Endless Heights write sharper, smarter songs with a greater level of introspect, heart and poignancy. Simply put: Every year, Endless Heights get flat-out better. This, the title-track to their third EP, feels like an endgame of sorts – the kind of low-key, artfully-quiet song that they have worked towards on previous efforts. It’s able to do more in less than three minutes than what may of the band’s contemporaries can achieve with five-plus. A bright, beautiful slow-burn.

89. The Bennies – Party Machine

From one end to the other, The Bennies can become a million different things – post-punk hip-shakers, knees-up ska bouncers, heavy disco (pardon the pun) ravers. When it all rolls together, it becomes something full of wild-eyed energy; a measured defiance of restrictive guidelines and genre semantics. With a third album looming, “Party Machine” feels like the Bennies single that has the most to prove – that they are ready to take this shit higher than ever before. It passes accordingly with all the flying colours of a hallucinogenic rainbow. The machine rages on. The party is just getting started.

88. Pity Sex – What Might Soothe You?

There are those that haven’t quite known what to make of Pity Sex in the past – too much of an indie band for shoegaze nerds, too much of a shoegaze band for indie kids. On their first new material in two years, the band play up their limbo with a song accentuating both sides of the coin. Twee, unisex vocals are placed under the same spotlight as hazed-out, Daydream Nation-worthy guitar fuzz – at once joyously bright and uniformly morose. Putting genre semantics aside and appreciating a great song for what it is – it, indeed, might soothe you.

87. Miguel – leaves

Smashing Pumpkins frontman Billy Corgan was given a songwriting credit to this end-of-summer lament after Miguel claimed he was accidentally inspired by the Pumpkins’ hit “1979.” The similarities certainly present themselves – particularly in the off-kilter guitar patterns – but “leaves” substitutes the mid-west teenage dreaming for west-coast heartbreak and Corgan’s adenoidal nostalgia for a smooth, love-lorn crooning. Along with being a standout moment of Miguel’s excellent Wildheart LP, it certainly stands as the best thing Corgan has been attached to in well over a decade – and it says a lot that he wasn’t directly involved at all.

86. Darren Hanlon – The Chattanooga Shoot-Shoot

He’s spent over a decade as one of the country’s smartest, most celebrated songwriters – even his peers can’t help but be amazed by the way he wondrously weaves his wayward words. The standout track from his fifth album takes the Gympie couchsurfer about as far from home as he’s ever been – travelling to Tennessee on a budget bus. To borrow a phrase from Upworthy, you won’t believe what happens next. The “Folsom Prison Blues” chord progression and timely snare hits are a nice touch, too. Of all of Hanlon’s tales, this one hits number one with a bullet.

85. Micachu and the Shapes – Oh Baby

“It’s not us to give up in a rush,” crows Mica Levi over a hypnotic boom-bap rhythm and underwater synths blubbering from afar. She’s got a point, y’know – it might have been three years since we heard from Levi, Raisa Khan and Marc Pell; but they re-enter the fray as if they were never really gone. Reverb-laden crooning and an experimental hip-hop flavour to the song’s lo-fi production add spice and texture, but theirs is a dynamic so constantly-shifting and fascinating that these two aspects could just as well be just scratching the surface. Just like that, it vanishes.

84. Best Coast – Heaven Sent

Not to get all Rick Astley on the situation, but Best Coast are no strangers to love. Their knack lies in their ability to make it sound as fresh and dewy-eyed as that of young romance. No-one else in the current indie-rock climate could drop something as sappy as “You are the one that I adore” atop a major chord and not only get away with it, but be commended for it. There’s a method and an art-form to all of this – and the only ones that know the secret recipe are Bethany and Bobb. Love rules, yeah yeah.

83. Bad//Dreems – Cuffed and Collared

What other band in Australia right now could simultaneously recall God’s “My Pal” and The Remembrandt’s sole hit “I’ll Be There for You” in a single bound? It could well have something to do with how “Cuffed and Collared” vividly mashes together the fury and bounding energy of the former with the unmistakable pop ear-worms of the latter. It might be a song that details a violent altercation, sure; but you’ll be damned if you aren’t grinning every time that the hook in question rolls around – and it’s on a near-frequent loop. With Dreems like these, who needs Friends?

82. Foals – What Went Down

What the ever-loving fuck is going on here? From its seasick organ drone to its detour into a thick three-note riff – not to mention its subsequent tear-down and empirical rebuild – “What Went Down” is one of the most head-spinning, ferocious compositions that Foals have ever committed to wax. What else does it have in store? Abstract imagery! A piercing, screamed refrain! Constant, unpredictable swerves that threaten to throw the entire goddamn thing off a cliff! To paraphrase a quote from Blades of Glory‘s Chazz Michael-Michaels: No-one knows what went down, but it’s provocative. It gets the people going.

81. The Hard Aches – Knots

One of the true signs of great, honest songwriting is when the writer in question turns the knife – or, in this case, the much-mightier pen – on themselves. The Hard Aches’ Ben David exposes his flaws on this key track from the band’s debut, Pheromones; bitterly portraying himself as a pathological, unrepentant liar in a constant state of exhaustion. Towards the song’s thrilling conclusion, however, he indicates that he’s on the road to bettering himself – and his is such a blunt, forthright delivery that you just know that he’ll get there. The untying process slowly but surely begins.

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Part Two will be posted next Monday!

To download the podcast version of Part One, click here.

Top 50 Albums of 2014, Part Two: 40 – 31

Posted on by David James Young in Lists

He’s at it again! Part one is here ICYMI.

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40. Modern Baseball – You’re Gonna Miss It All
Spotify || Rdio || Bandcamp

There’s an endless stream of great lyrics that flow through Modern Baseball’s second album, but perhaps its most telling moments come through its asides, its mumbles and awkward fumbles. “Yeah… about that…” comes with awkward pauses on ‘Fine, Great,’ while the line “I could not muster the courage to say a single word” practically falls over itself in ‘Apartment.’ It’s an awkward and uncomfortable record, but in a way it has to be in order to convey the dissatisfaction and blank, distant gazes that come with such sighing honesty among its smart pop-punk and understated alt-rock. Whatever forever.

THREE TOP TRACKS: Two Good Things, Notes, Your Graduation.

LISTEN:

39. DZ Deathrays – Black Rat
Spotify || Rdio

With the wizardry of Gerling alum Burke Reid guiding them, Brisbane’s finest party-starters maintained the rage on their all-important second album. It’s worth pointing out that there was far more to the album than what was presented on surface value: While DZ kicked their boots into several slices of snarling garage rock, they also found themselves slowing to a crawl and exploring the possibilities of more than one guitar – let’s try a half-dozen. Why not? Black Rat is the sound of a band expanding their empire, refusing to be either restricted or defined by what’s previously been laid out.

THREE TOP TRACKS: Northern Lights, Reflective Skull, Gina Works at Hearts.

WATCH:

38. Jane Tyrrell – Echoes in the Aviary
Spotify || Rdio

A supporting player that has had people begging for a lead, Jane Tyrrell is regarded as one of the finest vocalists to emerge out of Australia’s hip-hop community. Here, she takes those lessons learned and breathes fresh life into them. Assisted by a stellar team of producers and multi-instrumentalists, Tyrrell revels in deep, dark secrets; conveyed with the kind of sorrow that can only come from raw-nerve connections to every last lyric. At once breathily intimate and unreachably distant, Echoes is the sound of an artist taking flight for the very first – and certainly not the last – time.

THREE TOP TRACKS: The Rush, Echoes in the Aviary, Raven.

LISTEN:

37. Mere Women – Your Town
Spotify || Rdio || Bandcamp

The bloodline of Mere Women runs through DIY punk, indie rock, basement electronica and warehouse post-punk. It fits in everywhere and nowhere at the exact same time; such is the nature of its genre traversing and integral versatility. Truth be told, there’s very few bands that quite match what it is that Mere Women do, and that’s never been more the case than on Your Town. Each note feels cacophonous, cold to the touch and bristling with anxiety and defeat. It all falls into place, painstakingly detailing what happens when things between people disintegrate into nothing at all. Truly jawdropping.

THREE TOP TRACKS: Our Street, Golden, Home.

LISTEN:

36. Outright – Avalanche
Bandcamp

There is no band in Australian hardcore right now more important than Outright. There is no band in Australian hardcore right now that will sit you down, shut you up and give you the severe reality check that you need the way Outright will. No album in Australian music this year was able to encapsulate such fury and such authoritative defiance like Avalanche did – and in such a short amount of time. How much more evidence do you need in order to see Avalanche as a milestone for its scene and its genre? Do we have everybody’s attention now?

THREE TOP TRACKS: A City Silent, Troubled, With Your Blessing.

LISTEN:

35. Megan Washington – There There
Spotify || Rdio

What kind of year has it been for Megan Washington? It’s all out in the open now. Everything. She’s publicly confessed to having a stutter, told all about a failed relationship that even had a wedding on the cards… hell, she’s even performing under her full name now. The details are not spared on There There, and its seemingly-cathartic release benefits both her and those that have always perceived her to be an excellent and important songwriter. This is Washington’s single best collection of songs, and those that investigate its innermost secrets are the ones that will be rewarded greatest.

THREE TOP TRACKS: Limitless, Marry Me, My Heart is a Wheel.

WATCH:

34. St. Vincent – St. Vincent
Spotify || Rdio

It doesn’t matter if it happened when she dropped her debut, when she teamed with David Byrne or even when she stole the show during SNL: You’ve fallen in love with Annie Clark. As St. Vincent, she has been responsible for some of the most arresting, envelope-pushing art-rock this side of the century. Not only was this reaffirmed on her self-titled LP, it showcased some of the finest examples of it. Whether she’s shredding with the flair of an 80s metal star or tiptoeing around delicate arrangements with the grace of a ballerina, the love affair remains in full swing.

THREE TOP TRACKS: Digital Witness, Bring Me Your Loves, Birth in Reverse.

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33. Tiny Ruins – Brightly Painted One
Spotify || Rdio

Hollie Fullbrook may be a particularly quiet artist, but there’s a certain je ne sais quoi about her that will stun you into silence. She’ll be recalling a specifically-detailed story from her childhood at one point, falling helplessly in love with a nearby worker at another. What ties it all together is both Fullbrook’s knack for stunning melodies and impeccable, tidy arrangements incorporating warm horns, pinches of strings and her exceptional rhythm section. Brightly Painted One deserves to be seen, heard and known.

THREE TOP TRACKS: She’ll Be Coming ‘Round, Me in the Museum, You in the Wintergardens, Ballad of the Hanging Parcel.

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32. Slipknot – .5: The Gray Chapter
Spotify || Rdio || YouTube

It was always going to be driving a hard bargain in order to make people care about Slipknot again. Six years have passed since their previous record, a tragic loss almost ended the band entirely and perhaps their best-known player exited the fold permanently. It’s either on account of this or in reaction to it, but The Gray Chapter is an album that overcomes every obstacle. It’s an album that makes the impossible possible, pounding its fists through the coffin and rising up to complete unfinished business. It’s the sound of a band who won’t go down without a fight.

THREE TOP TRACKS: Custer, Sarcastrophe, The Devil in I.

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31. J Mascis – Tied to a Star
Spotify || Rdio || YouTube

On paper, an acoustically-oriented record from one of the most prominent, inventive electric guitarists of the past 30 years would appear to be fruitless, confusing and counter-productive. One pities the fool, of course, who would ever think to doubt or question the motives of one Joseph Donald Mascis, Jr. Whatever style of music he lends his formidable songwriting abilities to, the Dinosaur Jr. mainstay is sure to make it a worthwhile endeavour. Star marks his strongest solo album, delving into Nick Drake-esque introspect and sweetly-soft falsetto. It betrays what you know him best for, making it all the more fascinating.

THREE TOP TRACKS: Every Morning, Me Again, Wide Awake.

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