Top 10 Albums of 2017
When your first entry falls at the end of the year, you have the luxury of hindsight on what has been a tumultuous, infuriating, chaotic, and eye-opening year. It seems like everything that was once considered sacred or accepted is now up for review, in some cases completely overdue and justified, and in other cases, a sign of troubling times (e.g. did we need this introspection about what is a fact?). Even "End of Year" lists, like the one below, have been more acutely maligned, notably with Resident Advisor making the decision to eliminate the practice all together (to much applause), because of their unfair slant and reinforcement of certain power structures.
I sometimes find these lists divisive, largely because I'm petty and disagree, but I also tend to see my musical library swell with albums I overlooked and my remaining time consumed watching the indie films that 12 people saw. For that reason, I am going to go ahead and do this for the sole purpose of taking this year into account and reflecting on what truly moved and affected me in music.
Of course, this list is definitive and absolute, and will probably be looked back upon as an equal to the Ten Commandments and Bill of Rights (see we've been making Top 10 lists forever). Here it goes:
1. A Deeper Understanding - The War on Drugs
The title really says it all. Following up the immaculate Lost in the Dream, Adam Granduciel further establishes his unwanted status as rock's savior, crafting a confident and meticulous trip through wavy fields and America's lost highways. With the requisite Dylan-esque lyricism, Petty-inflected guitar riffs, and Springsteen-drenched bravado, The War on Drugs have yet again produced a rock and roll experience that belongs in another decade but feel perfectly suited for the moment. Despite the majesty, exhilaration, and assuredness of this album, it is still full of questioning, longing, and the search for meaning. It's about understanding, not comprehending - a very mature realization for anyone at any point in their life.
2. Go Farther in Lightness - Gang of Youths
Even before knowing the underlying story of this sprawling, arena-ready, Springsteen-inspired, monument of an album, the raw energy and sheer emotion betrays a much older and more battle-hardened auteur. To know that 25 year-old lead singer David Le’aupepe is coming to terms with his wife's battle with cancer only adds gravity to this philosophical exploration of love, loss, joy, anger, confusion, and more. I can't think of a more poignant album this year.
3. The Nashville Sound - Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit
Other than a brief spell in high school, I have largely avoided country as a genre. That Isbell's album eclipses the genre while simultaneously paying tribute to the sound and lyrical depth is a testament to his self-conscious songwriting and vibrant range of emotions. Even the biggest, brashest, country-sounding tracks are soaked in cultural observations and a personal awareness that goes above and beyond his art form.
4. American Dream - LCD Soundsystem
I don't know if this album is here because I truly love it (I do love it) or because I'm just happy the aging, hipster specter of James Murphy didn't fuck up his return to the limelight. Occasionally reaching, and sometimes surpassing, the heights of their original trilogy (seminal for hipsters of any age), American Dream revisits the same social awkwardness and societal questioning, updated for the current age, that pushed LCD to cult stardom in the first place. As with all things LCD, this album comes with a healthy warning of "EXPERIENCE IT LIVE."
5. Out in the Storm - Waxahatchee
Rarely has an introspective and revealing album sounded this fun. Big guitar riffs, echoing vocals, and sparse yet memorable choruses intermingle tales of personal conflict and haunting relationships. Whether Katie Crutchfield is focusing on the little, everyday annoyances, or letting those feelings escalate into something bigger, it's hard to deny feeling triumphant and successful in taking that emotional journey with her.
6. Pure Comedy - Father John Misty
The album that inspired a million think-pieces is a messy masterpiece that encapsulates 2017 better than any other album this year. Josh Tillman's devil-may-care attitude pairs perfectly with the post-dystopian hell-scape (paradise?) he sings about. Beneath the sarcasm, pretentiousness, and pontification, is an album with a lot of truth, heart, and sincerity. Was 2017 the year Father John gave a fuck?
7. Masseducation - St. Vincent
With the current pop-music throne left vacant (re: Swift/Perry), St. Vincent makes a pretty convincing argument to be in the running for ruler of mainstream pop. Though I think she maintains too much of her indie cred to fully break through (thankfully), this partnership with producer-wunderkind Jack Antonoff makes for the most surprising, thoughtful, and danceable album of her career. Slightly political, slightly romantic, slightly unhinged, no other album pleasantly subverted my expectations of what a pop album could be quite like this one.
8. Electric Lines - Joe Goddard
Ok maybe I danced a little more to this album. Joe Goddard extends the Hot Chip dancefloor aesthetic to new heights as he mutedly croons over synths, 70s funk samples, and simple yet effective drum patterns. In a year when dance music took a decidedly political tone (I know it has always been political, it just felt more overt this year than ever), it was nice to just let go and groove.
9. Dirty Projectors - Dirty Projectors
Break-up albums haven't been this explicit since Kanye swallowed a electric shaver and made 808s. Laying bare his insecurities, animosity, and downright anger, David Longstreth at times seems cruel and vengeful towards ex-bandmate/girlfriend, Amber Coffman. The result is an album that deftly explores their relationship as well as the long road of moving forward. I don't exactly feel sorry for him (he can come off as kind of an asshole sometimes), but his candor is a welcome revelation.
10. I Love You Like a Brother - Alex Lahey
Perhaps my favorite discovery of the year. Alex Lahey's debut seemingly came out of nowhere and bowled me over with its honest, at times brutal, take on relationships, insecurity, and personal growth. Roaring with catchy choruses and sing-along bridges, Lahey's songs present an interesting duplicity: a confident and self-assured voice struggling through the complexity and doubt of her young life. If that doesn't sound like head-banging music, I don't know what will get you going.
Honorable mentions: Capacity - Big Thief; Villains - Queens of the Stone Age (Josh Homme's head kicking aside); Lotta Sea Lice - Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile; The Far Field - Future Islands; Guppy - Charly Bliss