Best Albums of the 2010s: #50-#26

Joe in like 2017: "I cannot wait for the end of this decade. I'm going all out with my Best of the Decade list. Better start preparing now!"

Joe in January 2019: "This is it, at the end of the year I'm going to be creating my Best Albums of the Decade list. This is important! I better start now, and write essays for each album! Seems like a formidable task, but I'm up for the challenge!"

Joe in December 2019: "Alright, fuck it, time to slap together some fucking semblance of a list while I listen to Paul Simon's Graceland."

Thank you for joining us today, as we start to count down my favorite albums of the decade. I've already written about a few of these albums, so for those, I'll link to the original essay, and add a final thought. Otherwise, the album is getting a short blurb, and that's it, because fifty albums is a lot, and I'm a lazy fuck! Seriously, some are very short! I may or may not have written some of them while tipsy! Enjoy!

50. Feels Like by Bully (2015)

I previously wrote about this album, but I'll say this too—add this to the long list of albums that are blacklisted from being played in our car for being "too screamy," even though the screaming is what makes it special, and raw, and wonderful. Pam's walking home from now on.

A song to try: "Trying"

49. Yeezus by Kanye West (2013)

If you made a ranked list of every musical artist that I've ever hated, and you take out everyone who has committed a heinous crime (sexual assault, all that kind of stuff), then Kanye West would probably be left standing at the top. Equal parts moron and megalomaniac, West released a lot of disappointing bullshit this decade. Even after all this, though, even I have to admit that Yeezus is a work of genius. A broken watch, and so on.

A song to try: "Black Skinhead"

48. Eraserland by Strand of Oaks (2019)

Just like riding a bike on the beach; it looks endless from here.

A song to try: "Hyperspace Blues"

47. The Things We Do to Find People Who Feel like Us by Beach Slang (2015)

Holy shit, what pandering to my sensibilities. A wall of guitars lathered over laments of youthful days full of mirth and wonder? Yup.

A song to try: "Too Late to Die Young"

46. Ruminations by Conor Oberst (2016)

I am a total fucking Conor Oberst apologist. I'm not really sure how this happened. All I know is that he's still got it, even on a rag-tag collection of bare-bone ditties.

A song to try: "A Little Uncanny"

45. Dose Your Dreams by Fucked Up (2018)

At the end of 2018, looking back over the year in music, I had a really hard time figuring out what my #1 was going to be. At the time, I figured it was just an off year in music. But maybe it was an off year for me, ya know? Having a kid changed my life drastically, and maybe it took till 2019 to find my equilibrium again. I'm saying all this because Dose Your Dreams was my #1 album last year, and I'm listening to it now, and yeah... it's still fucking great.

A song to try: "Tell Me What You See"

44. All of Something by Remember Sports (2015)

Many bands make good albums in Philadelphia. Remember Sports made a good album, and then arrived in Philadelphia. I can't imagine their Philadelphia opus is too far down the line.

A song to try: "Saturday"

43. Run the Jewels 2 by Run the Jewels (2014)

RTJ1 is too cold, RTJ3 is too hot, RTJ2 is juuuuuuuust right. El-P and Killer Mike show us here how to run the rap-brag game. Saying shit like "I am cool and have lots of money" is lame; instead, try "So we grin in the face of frauds and tell monsters to suck our dick."

A song to try: "Love Again (Akinyele Back)"

42. Father, Son, Holy Ghost by Girls (2011)

I'll always remember when the #1 hit on google for "girls" was this band. #2 was Playboy! It was insane! And then that (admittedly great) Lena Dunham show had to go and ruin google for everyone. Hey, this is a cool album.

A song to try: "Jamie Marie"

41. Need to Feel Your Love by Sheer Mag (2017)

Not that I ever find myself in the pit anymore—or have more than a half dozen times in my entire life, for that matter—but I think I'd die a happy man if I was in the pit and Christina Halladay punched me in the face.

A song to try: "Just Can't Get Enough"

40. Twin Fantasy by Car Seat Headrest (2018)

This was originally released in 2011, well before I knew what Car Seat Headrest was all about. Then Will Toledo redid the whole thing and rereleased it in 2018. I think maybe I was reluctant to rank it high in '18 because it was technically a redo. That's stupid. This is a fantastic album. Car Seat Headrest puts heart on sleeve and fucking destroys. I cannot wait to see what's up in the 2020s.

A song to try: "Bodys"

39. Waiting on a Song by Dan Auerbach (2017)

I hate the Black Keys but fell in love with a solo album. Funny how this shit works. I think the key is to figure out what type of "lame" music can still be music you like. The Black Keys are lame in that they try way too hard. Waiting on a Song is lame because Auerbach isn't trying at all, he's just cutting and pasting some '70s AM gold. Turns out that, as lame as that is, it's the perfect album to pop on and chill on a beach somewhere. Lame, not lame, whatever, it's fucking chill.

A song to try: "Waiting on a Song"

38. Natalie Prass by Natalie Prass (2015)

I already wrote about this album, but I'll say this too—even when Natalie Prass is trying to be mean, she's fucking adorable. The self-portrayed bitchiness is a put on, and it fits like a thespian's costume.

A song to try: "Bird of Prey"

37. After the Party by the Menzingers (2017)

I already wrote about this album, but I'll say this too—maybe the Menzingers dug themselves into a hole when they declared that the party is over, because then where do you go from there? Do you make more albums about how the party is still over? Nevertheless, if you think they are obsessed with the subject, then you should check out my blog sometime.

A song to try: "Bad Catholics"

36. Are We There by Sharon Van Etten (2014)

I already wrote about this album, but I'll say this too—there aren't many "slow" albums on this list, but sometimes, the motherfucking craft cuts through the slow tempos. Van Etten brings the fire to even the dirges here.

A song to try: "Every Time the Sun Comes Up"

35. Light upon the Lake by Whitney (2016)

Whitney kind of reminds me of the Band, with the beautiful falsettos (R.I.P. Rick Danko) and the overall rustic feel and tone of the music. I don't know if that's a put upon by Whitney, or if it's authentic, and I don't know if this trick will ever work again (it didn't quite on 2019's follow-up), but I don't fucking care. Let Whitney take me up the river.

A song to try: "Golden Days"

34. Nonagon Infinity by King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard (2016)

I already wrote about this album, but I'll say this too—I've grown to honestly kind of hate everything else that King Gizzard have done after Nonagon Infinity. This album was released in 2016, and in the three years since, they've released SEVEN more albums. And all of them kind of blow? In my TATM write-up for this album, I wrote that the band's albums all have gimmicks, and they always work. That's not true, as it turns out—this is the only gimmick that works. Still, I'm eternally grateful they got it right at least once.

A song to try: "Gamma Knife"

33. The Most Lamentable Tragedy by Titus Andronicus (2015)

I spend a lot of time marveling over the audacity of Titus Andronicus's music, how bombastic they are with structure and story, and so it's almost insane to say this, but... I feel like sometimes, they don't even need the whole "rock opera" conceits. It's great here on The Most Lamentable Tragedy, but mainly because it gives framework to some absolutely insane punk rock songs. That's really all you need sometimes, right?

A song to try: "Fired Up"

32. The Age of Adz by Sufjan Stevens (2010)

I already wrote about this album, but I'll say this too—if there is a difference between "favorite" and "best," then Age of Adz is without a doubt Sufjan's best album. It's an insane work of genius that, ten years later, I'm still trying to figure out. Illinois is my favorite, and Carrie & Lowell certainly made a few people cry this decade, but Age of Adz is a towering achievement and I don't know if Sufjan will ever replicate it.

A song to try: "I Want to Be Well"

31. Shame, Shame by Dr. Dog (2010)

Shaggy and ramshackle, Dr. Dog is a good band that captured greatness once this decade, and it was all the way back at the beginning. I'm not saying that I don't love most of Dr. Dog's output, because I do; it's wonderful music for a lazy autumn day, sitting out front of your row home, drinking a beer. But Shame, Shame manages to exceed expectations, and actually has some stakes underneath all the chillaxing.

A song to try: "Jackie Wants a Black Eye"

30. Wakin on a Pretty Daze by Kurt Vile (2013)

I already wrote about this album, but I'll say this too—let Wakin on a Pretty Daze be a testament to the importance of patience sometimes. You gotta let the long, ramblin' albums breathe a little bit to really appreciate them. I hated Wakin at first because I didn't have patience. I had most of the decade to change my mind.

A song to try: "Was All Talk"

29. Days Are Gone by Haim (2013)

What do you call it? Adult alternative I guess? You know, the tradition of music traced down from Fleetwood Mac and through Sheryl Crow and so on. Whatever you call it, Haim immediately established themselves as part of that lineage, and on top of that, seemed like they were having just the best goddamn time doing it. The fun is infectious on Days Are Gone.

A song to try: "Honey & I"

28. Modern Vampires of the City by Vampire Weekend (2013)

There's a certain satisfaction is seeing a band make that leap and grow up. Extra points if a band grows up around the same time that you do.

A song to try: "Step"

27. The Navigator by Hurray for the Riff Raff (2017)

It's amazing how this album manages to feel so local and so global at the same time. It ropes in wokeness and southern hemisphere stylings and plays them through the lens of your very own inner city. It's a wonder. I listened to this album a lot in the past couple years, but I try to avoid watching live sets and music videos, because these days I make an honest effort to practice monogamy.

A song to try: "Pa'lante"

26. White Reaper Does It Again by White Reaper (2015)

Gotta love the cockiness of this band. I like their entire discography, but I kind like it most when they were scrappy unknowns, when the recording quality was a little lower, and when they leaned hard on those goofy ass keyboard lines.

A song to try: "I Don't Think She Cares"


See you tomorrow for the Top 25 albums of the decade!!!!!

Best Albums of the 2010s: Honorable Mentions

Of course there are more albums than could fit on a Top 50 list. There was a lot of great music in the 2010s, what the fuck else can I tell ya. Enjoy these also-rans today, and join us tomorrow for the list proper.

Album by the Sun Days (2016)

Because the alphabet is held in such high regard around these parts, I already wrote about the first three albums on this list. Here's what I had to say about Album. But I'll say this too—there is another band called the Sundays, apparently, making it really hard to google this band. And that sucks, because I can't imagine the Sundays come even close to being as fun as the Sun Days.

A song to try: "You Can't Make Me Make Up My Mind"

Art Angels by Grimes (2015)

I already wrote about Art Angels as well, but I'll say this too—sometimes, it IS possible to separate art from artist, if the artist hasn't done anything more egregious than, say, be kind of insufferable? Grimes can build robots with her boyfriend if she wants, whatever, just keep cranking out the good ass, weird ass tunes.

A song to try: "World Princess, Pt. II"

AT WORK by DARK THOUGHTS (2018)

And I already wrote about AT WORK as well (gotta love The Albums That Matter), but I'll say this too—the more I listen to this album (and I listen to it a lot, since it's only like 20 minutes long), the more I think that the Ramones comparison is overrated. Sure, on the surface, it's the same music (and the album cover is an homage), but dig a little deeper, and you'll find that DARK THOUGHTS have a lot more heart than their godfathers ever did.

A song to try: "Watch You Walk Away"

Beachheads by Beachheads (2017)

Between this album and the Sun Days' Album, it is truly a wonder why I didn't make more of an effort to get into more ESL jangle pop albums this decade. Consider the 2020s a course correction.

A song to try: "Break Me Down"

Beat the Champ by the Mountain Goats (2015)

It's no wonder that John Darnielle spent a fair amount of time speaking with actual wrestlers after he released this album. Even they could tell that he was so skillful in capturing the pathos of professional wrestling that the actual pros only sometimes can do.

A song to try: "Foreign Object"

Bell House by Shy Boys (2018)

Man, sometimes a band just fucking nails the whole "what should we call ourselves" game. Shy Boys make incredible small and intimate music, so much so that it feels like there's a really shy and private kid in school and I just happened to steal a glance at the notebook that he's been scribbling in all semester, and what I saw was fucking remarkable.

A song to try: "Basement"

The Grand Spontanean by Telethon (2017)

I've said it before—there's nothing like a band just fucking going for it. I had never heard of Telethon before, but I heard some unknown band had released a rock opera about the end of the world, and I just fucking knew it would be for me. The Grand Spontanean shows that you don't have to be an A-list band to create something special.

A song to try: "The Paranoid Blur"

Heartland by Owen Pallett (2010)

Then again, who needs such theatrics as THE END OF THE WORLD when you could just have an album about AN ANGRY FARMER? There's a theory floating out there somewhere that Heartland predicted the rise of trump in farm country, but I'm not ready to write that theory yet.

A song to try: "Lewis Takes Action"

I Love You, Honeybear by Father John Misty (2015)

I've listened to this album so much in the past five years that the reason it made it onto this list is because somehow I don't hate it yet. If it were any less of an album, I would hate its fucking guts at this point, so there's merit here. Thanks Pam.

A song to try: "Holy Shit"

Kaputt by Destroyer (2011)

This record absolute scintillates with life, it's almost like watching a movie. Close your eyes and see it with me—you're slowly walking across the dance floor. The fog machine is going crazy. You're all alone, but then you see some movement through the fog, and here this weedy little voice beckoning you forward. You have no idea whether to trust this man. It's all good. No trust needed at the disco.

A song to try: "Savage Night at the Opera"

Knife Man by AJJ (2011)

I wouldn't call any of the songs from Knife Man "funny." Let's perhaps call them morbid observations that are occasionally clever enough to make you laugh. There are poignant reflections of white male privilege butting up against scenes of blowjobs from satan. There is a song called "Free Bird" that is not that "Free Bird." There is an endless gallery of human atrocities through the lens of loud, fast, fun skate punk. Very interesting album.

A song to try: "Distance"

Life Will See You Now by Jens Lekman (2017)

If AJJ responds to the horrors in life by pulling out a switchblade, then Jens is the dude who convinces him to put the knife down and then gives him a hug. Witty, humble, warm—I've repeated my praises of Jens Lekman throughout the decade, and that'll continue in the 2020s.

A song to try: "Wedding in Finistère"

Local Business by Titus (2012)

When Titus Andronicus is trying to move mountains and change music with insane rock operas, they are the best band on earth. When Titus Andronicus is content to sit back and bang out a few great punk tunes, like they do on Local Business, then they are... well, they're still pretty close to being the best band on earth.

A song to try: "Still Life with Hot Deuce on Silver Platter"

Pretty Years by Cymbals Eat Guitars (2016)

Pretty Years is the sound of a band trying to make it by being as big as they can. It didn't work—I literally just found out today that CEG aren't a band anymore. But with it's occasional moments of sheer brilliance (see: the #1 song of the decade; see: most of the other songs), it was a great note to go out on, success be damned.

A song to try: "Have a Heart"

Rhombithian by Sincere Engineer (2017)

A large general thanks to my fatter, older friends who always know when I need some female punk rock that fucking slaps.

A song to try: "Shattering"

Simple Songs by Jim O'Rourke (2015)

It kind of looks like O'Rourke has spent his post-Simple Songs time creating four-hour drone pieces? Fucking bizarre, because this album is a successful exercise in pure songwriting. No drones required.

A song to try: "Half Life Crisis"

Stranger in the Alps by Phoebe Bridgers (2017)

It's a little insane how much I love Phoebe Bridgers, and yet this is still her only solo release. There aren't many artists that can create such a sad, slow album and actually move me in such a way, but Bridgers does that and more. Looking forward to at least three more decades of success from her.

A song to try: "Motion Sickness"

To Pimp a Butterfly by Kendrick Lamar (2015)

It seems to be the consensus for the best album of the decade, if you read around the music blogosphere. That's okay—it is a pretty safe pick. This is possibly because people confuse "the best" with "the most important." The latter is probably true, the former is highly debatable. Still, it's important enough and good enough for me to consider it very favorably. Look around the world, and you might think that the world hasn't changed for the better in the past five years... but you can't really fault Kendrick for trying.

A song to try: "For Free? (Interlude)"

White Crosses by Against Me (2010)

An album stuck in the middle, where Laura Jane Grace has discarded her former anarchist self, but has not quite yet accepted her true female form, in all its complicated glory. So White Crosses ends up being just a very good punk album. Against Me! being the band that it is, their "just a very good punk album" is one of the best.

A song to try: "I Was a Teenage Anarchist"

Wide Awake! by Parquet Courts (2018)

This is the album that changed my mind about post-punk, which is probably my biggest opinion change, musically speaking, of the decade.

A song to try: "Freebird II"

Best Songs of the 2010s: #25-#1

Here we are, my favorite songs of the decade. Seeing as I really got into music in the 2010s—like, actually started to keep up with all the new music—this list can probably give you a good sense of what my favorite music of all time is. Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. But man, looking over these 25 songs, it's hard to argue. Stone cold classics, all of them. Enjoy, folks. And let me hear from ya—what is your favorite song of the decade?

Previous: #100 to #76, #75 to #51, and #50 to #26.

25. "Where'd All the Time Go?" by Dr. Dog (2010)

Early in the decade, I was driving to La Salle with XPN on the car radio (aux cord must've been busted), and this song came on. I knew it was Dr. Dog, but I didn't know anything else. Those hypnotic key riffs stayed in my brains for years, buried, until I finally got around to checking out Shame, Shame. I heard the riff again, and it was like someone snapped their fingers and I came out of a fog, not really sure what I had been up to the past few years.

24. "Bamboo Bones" by Against Me! (2010)

"Bamboo Bones" was Willow's first song, so that probably has a lot to do with it (Martha's first song was all the way back at #55, who says parents don't have favorites I guess!!!). But don't discount the song because of that; I wouldn't've picked it in the first place if it wasn't a badass song. It's about staying true to yourself and standing up for what you believe in—you don't have to be my infant daughter to appreciate such a message.

23. "Bloodbuzz Ohio" by the National (2010)

There were better albums from the National this decade (spoilers), but there was no song that encapsulated everything that makes the signature National sound more so than "Bloodbuzz Ohio." It starts with the pounding drums, and they don't stop. One single note rises above the fray, to set the mood. Berninger's booming baritone dives in. The band is bashing away in unison. A climax is reached. Bliss is obtained.

22. "Drinkin' Days" by Pkew Pkew Pkew (2019)

At the beginning of the decade, this chorus could've been a rallying cry; at the end of the decade, it's an epitaph: "There's a hole in my heart 'bout the size of a bottle, and I like to fill it every day."

21. "Impossible Soul" by Sufjan Stevens (2010)

It's quite possible that the middle section of this song (from around the 13-minute mark to around the 20-minute mark) is the best song of the decade. Or would've been, if it was its own song. It's possibly that it might be my favorite song of all time. Or would've been, and so on. I'm not sure. There's the Sufjan maximalism at its finest, but there's also the immortal dual truism of: "In the wrong life, everything is chance," and "In the right life, it's a miracle." Over the past ten years, I've tried to see the world in this way, as a miracle instead of just some random fucking things that occur. I've failed in so many fucking ways, but I've tried. Always ready to remind me, this song has been here for quite a while (literally—it's a half hour long).

20. "One Trick Ponies" by Kurt Vile (2018)

I was at a wedding a few weeks ago. I could only stick around for three hours tops, with a one-week-old at home. Couldn't drink that much either, same reason. Still, those three hours went by in a blink of an eye. That always happens when I'm with my boys from the old neighborhood. Kurt Vile sings his anthem to old friends here, and it shakes my bones in the same way that catching up and shooting the shit with those guys does.

19. "Boys in the Better Land" by Fontaines D.C. (2019)

There are old advertisements that you can see at the Guinness factory in Dublin—A slogan for the beer used to be "Guinness for Strength." While that's not literally true, and the American Medical Association might have some firm words to say about it, it's definitely true in a figurative sense. Who among us hasn't felt their strongest with a good shine on? There are moments when you just feel fucking invincible. I have felt that before. I feel it too when I hear this song. I feel unstoppable.

18. "Little of Your Love" by Haim (2017)

There's a moment toward the end of the video for this song, during the rapturous Paul Thomas Anderson-directed dance sequence, where Este Haim breaks the fourth wall and winks at us, the audience. That wink contains universes. It's a wink that says, "Calm down, we're just having fun here, it's not that serious." No one was more successful while seeming like they didn't give a shit this decade than Haim.

17. "Dimed Out" by Titus Andronicus (2015)

An inverse of the previous blurb: No band seemed to take themselves more seriously than Titus Andronicus this decade. Seriously, "Dimed Out" is near the halfway point of a 30-song rock opera about mental illness personified by an evil doppelganger. And yet, here's this song, just an absolute fucking ripper, all full of snarls and snare rolls. That they could seem to have so much fun amidst the theatrics does a good job in reminding us that Titus could walk and chew gum at the same fucking time.

16. "To Know Your Mission" by Jens Lekman (2017)

Something I'm realizing as I grow older, looking back and looking forward, is that just having even an infinitesimal grip on what the fuck you're supposed to do in this fucking life is an absolute gift. Like, imagine how easy it would be to grow up knowing exactly who you are and what you want to do with your life? I cannot imagine, but it's a subject I'm infinitely curious about. Of course, leave it to Jens Lekman to capture all this in a goddamn song that also name-drops Chumbawamba.

15. "Down Down the Deep River" by Okkervil River (2013)

You might get the wrong impression if you just listen to the music, because this is a big bright pop song. Listen to the lyrics, and you'll find that it's really about a childhood friend drowning, and all the trauma that comes with that. But maybe it's not the wrong impression after all—there are notes of hope throughout the song too, an understanding that we've withstood the worst, and so what else can life possibly throw at us?

14. "Younger Us" by Japandroids (2012)

I spent some time in a couple movie interviews this year talking about the idea of "toxic nostalgia," i.e. whether thinking back to the past could ever harm our present. It's absolutely something I struggle with sometimes. In that regard, of fucking course "Younger Us" is one of my favorite songs of the decade, because it gives me a reason to be nostalgic again—"Gimme that night you were already in bed, said 'fuck it' / got up to drink with me instead" is one of the best lines of all time.

But so it was pretty interesting to read Brian King (guitar/vocals) talk about the purpose of the song. It's interesting because it seems to play into the idea of "toxic nostalgia."

"All of our friends that were around us were getting married, and having kids, and buying houses and getting these sort of jobs, and following on these paths, and there was this sort of... we didn’t come from a place where all of our friends played in bands, we were the only people that did that. We didn’t know anyone that played music or was interested in these sorts of things. Everyone had these, sort of, textbook lives. And 'Younger Us' was kind of this rallying behind watching your friends get pressured into lives that you were unsure they wanted and they were unsure they wanted."

So in King's mind, some of his friends are miserable because they have kids instead of being able to go out and get fucked up. On a certain level, I totally how someone could assume that. King was in his late 20s when he said this about the song. Who doesn't feel this way when you're getting older and shit is changing? But so, I guess my point about this song is that, yes, it would be really bad to try to make "Younger Us" a reality. I don't try. I don't want to. But I can still appreciate the song as a window into a time when I did... if that makes sense.

13. "Queen of Hearts" by Fucked Up (2011)

In every musical, there is an opening number in which the characters and the world at large are introduced to the audience. Everything is good, because this is before the incident and the rising action. Usually, those numbers involve a little less throat-shredding than "Queen of Hearts," Fucked Up's introduction to their grand and batshit punk rock opera, David Comes to Life. Here, our characters enter from stage left, bomb a lightbulb factory, and fall in love. These sorts of introductions are usually my favorite parts of a theatrical production, because they brim with excitement about what's to come. There really isn't much music out there that gets me as excited as "Queen of Hearts."

12. "God in Chicago" by Craig Finn (2017)

It's tempting to call this more of a story than a song, but that wouldn't give "God in Chicago" enough credit. It's talk-singing, for sure, but Finn makes the wonderful lyrics sound musical anyway through diction alone. An example: "Went from St. Paul to Cicero in my Chevrolet that didn’t have any radio / Had a boombox in the back seat that was running on batteries." It's more than what's written, it's how he says it.

But damn, okay, this is powerful performance by Craig Finn with his pen. With his slice-of-life, in media res narrative about selling a duffel bag of drugs, Finn proves himself one of the great writers of our time. He's given us enough great music at this point that I'd be okay if he took a little break to write the Next Great American Novel.

11. "Fear and Trembling" by Gang of Youths (2018)

You don't have to know philosophy to appreciate this song. I'm literally just reading Wikipedia about Fear and Trembling, the Søren Kierkegaard philosophical work, right now. It's a little too heavy for my feeble brain—basically making a point about having to make a "leap of faith" in order to believe in God, because if you try to use logic and reason, you're gonna go crazy (like Abraham when he was ordered to kill his own son)?! It's gonna take me longer than the six minutes and two seconds of "Fear and Trembling" to get a grip on it. Thankfully, like I said, that's all extracurricular reading. If you want, just sit back and listen to the boozy, Bruce-y bombast, and enjoy.

10. "Swan Dive" by Waxahatchee (2013)

This is by far the sparsest song in the Top 25, and it is Waxahatchee's masterpiece. She is probably getting better as an artist—2017's Out in the Storm is her best work yet—but she will never make a song that rips my heart out in the same specific way that "Swan Dive" does. It's a song about how we cling to each other because we're all sad together, even if that makes things complicated. It's a painful song, and Katie Crutchfield is somehow able to capture all that pain in every single "ooooh ooooh" after each verse. She is incredible.

9. "Four Score and Seven" by Titus Andronicus (2010)

I probably heard an advance copy of this song in January 2010, and so the very first lyric that impacted me this decade was "This is a war we can't win." After all the highs and lows that the 2010s brought, I can't think of a better way to have begun. There's not much we can do to make a large impact in the world, so let's do what we can with each small battle, and maybe have some fun while we're at it. I sure hope it's not really "us against them," because I want to think that we're all in this together, but Titus probably spits unfortunate truth.

8. "Total Football" by Parquet Courts (2018)

Sure, it feels good to yell "Fuck Tom Brady!" as an Eagles fan, but Parquet Courts are making a much bigger point that than. Tom Brady isn't just some cheating shitbag robot; he is also the epitome of the "every man for himself" doctrine that has so fucked our country. And yeah, to get really into the weeds, we need to talk about soccer here—"total football" is the soccer strategy that there are no assigned positions, and that every man on the pitch should play whatever role is required of him in that specific moment of the game.

But this song isn't actually about soccer either, just as it's not actually about a Super Bowl-stealing football deflater. We apply the general concept of total football to the real world, and realize that everyone needs to work together to fight the common enemy (hey Titus Andronicus, maybe it really is "us against them"). That's where the line "Have your hurt caucasian feelings left you so distraught?" comes in—all these white blue collar workers have conniption fits when a black athlete takes a knee for his rights, but they are blinded to the fact that they want the same thing!

The bottom line is that this is the straight-up coolest socialist anthem of all time. And yes, okay, fine... it does feel so fucking good to yell "FUCK TOM BRADY!"

7. "DVP" by PUP (2016)

"DVP" stands for "Don Valley Parkway," a highway that runs through PUP's city of Toronto. If it's anything like Philly's I-76 West, there's always traffic, and you feel like a fucking loser every time you get jammed on it. Clearly, that's a metaphor for how PUP feels sometimes, how I feel sometimes, how we all feel sometimes. It's when you feel like your life is shit and you're feeling so low and then you drink a bunch of beers to try to feel better and all that ends up doing is driving the wedge even further. Like pretty much every song on this list, that's a sad way to describe an impossibly fun punk song.

6. "Simple Song" by the Shins (2012)

This is a song blurb that's just begging for a glib "it's not that simple" tagline. But I'm not gonna do it! I'm not going to sing the praises of the theatrical production of the whole thing, the towering guitar noodling, the epic scope, the haunting backing vocals, the thundering Janet Weiss drums rolling into a chorus that feels like it could explode at any minute, and then after explaining all that, say some stupid bullshit like, "doesn't sound simple to me!" I refuse!

5. "Sunday Candy" by Nico Segal & the Social Experiment (2015)

Here's an unfortunate truth that all Chance the Rapper fans will have to swallow eventually—a scrappy, unfailingly positive attitude is a good fit for a up-and-comer, but turns smug on someone successful. So let "Sunday Candy" stand as the final song that Chance ever raps before he is stamped as permanently insufferable.

That's all besides the point, I just wanted to get my licks in. My point is that this is an amazing fucking song. More so than Chance's delightfully humble raps about his grandmother, we have the production to thank. It's imbued with classic high school theater energy (see the video), all busy beats and heated horns. Not to mention Jamila Woods' irreplaceable turn as the female foil.

Look, I'm definitely not one of those guys who thinks that rap is too dirty to enjoy, and that's why I like a song from a nice young man rapping about his grandma and church. That's fucking stupid—give me a Danny Brown verse about having anal in a Burger King bathroom any fucking day of the week. But "Sunday Candy" is so fucking catchy and heartwarming and wholesome, that I can't help but love it. Who ever dared say anything bad about Chance the Rapper?

4. "Waitress" by Hop Along (2015)

I've talked a lot about what a black hole Frances Quinlan's voice is, how it's so dense and otherworldly that we'll all be sucked in eventually. I don't know what I'd do if I ever ran into them at Love City Brewing. What does a peasant say in the face of a god?

That's why it's kind of funny that this song—Hop Along's best, and one of the best songs of all time—is about Quinlan themself feeling small, when they were waitressing and someone who didn't like them walked in. It's almost impossible to square in my mind how Frances Quinlan could ever feel small when they sound so much goddamn larger than life on tape.

As always, shout out to the band, who somehow match the vocals peak for peak. As always, shout out to my favorite band from Philly. As always, shout out to "Waitress," in all its crackling glory.

3. "Stay Useless" by Cloud Nothings (2012)

There are probably a few interpretations of the line "I need time to stay useless," though the distinctions between each are slim. Maybe Dylan Baldi is saying that if time doesn't exist, then we can live in this moment forever. Maybe it's a fear of the future. Maybe time is moving too fast. Maybe he feels stuck, and thinks that removing himself from all boundaries, including time itself, would help. I dunno. This all sounds pretty vague.

Regardless of whether I can adequately explain it or not, something about the conviction in which Baldi pleads his case to time speaks to me on some unreachable level. Sometimes the time gets away from me. I'll blink and it's a fucking decade later. Sometimes I need a hardass punk song to beat the reminder into my brain.

2. "Casey" by the Menzingers (2012)

"Casey," of course, is a love song, but not how you think. "Casey" isn't a person, it's a figment of the past. Our protagonist finds himself lost in memories of getting drunk with an old friend, way back when. And there's a concession that he's ready to go back to that "old place we found" at any time, the bags are packed, just say the word.

"I bet I sound like a broken record." Me and you both, brother. I don't know in how many different ways I can explain this to you guys—the songs that speak to the pain of losing the past are the songs that are going to wallop me the hardest. Call it "toxic nostalgia," whatever. "Casey" doesn't make me want to pack my bags and go back to how it used to be, because I'm over that. But it's a song that acknowledges that the feeling is still buried deep in there, because let's be real, it really was "so much easier."

So yeah, "Casey" is a love song. But the singer isn't talking about a girl named Casey. He's talking about that special pocket of a youth that is irredeemably lost forever. You can love it and be okay that you lost it. Here I am.

1. "4th of July, Philadelphia (SANDY)" by Cymbals Eat Guitars (2016)

In this story, our hero arrives in Port Richmond, depressed and struggling to find meaning in life—how can there be meaning to this life when there are theoretical parallel universes out there? Anyway, he gets into a van in front of the IGA with a friend of a friend, and this dude drives through Kenso and fucks up some random family's fireworks display. Said friend of friend gets his ass beat by a scary uncle with a baseball bat, right in front of our hero, whose depression finally lifts—something about the Kensington side street beatdown convinces him that this is the life that matters, and that it's worth giving a shit. And that feeling lasts for a little bit, anyway. Like all moments of clarity, it eventually fades.

I have been to plenty of Kensington side streets, but never to start a fight; I have been to the Port Richmond Pep Boys but memorable nights have never started there; I have knocked over Roman Candles, but it was always in jest. There is nothing specific in this story that I can point to and relate to.

But "4th of July, Philadelphia" is my favorite song of the decade because it comes closest to capturing that very specific can't-miss feeling that the very best nights contain. Certain times in your life, you feel like you reach a whole different higher plane of consciousness. Sometimes, it happens randomly, and sometimes it happens when something insane happens, and you feel like this can't possibly be real life, but it is. These are the nights that we tell as stories years later, in other words.

This scuzzy little lo-fi punk rock tune ably captures that feeling that is almost indescribable otherwise. The magic is ineffable, but I feel it when I hear that drop into the chorus: "HOW MANY UNIVERSES / AM I ALIVE AND DEAD IN?" I get to carry that feeling around in my pocket because of Cymbals Eat Guitars. That's why this is the best song, because it's about the best feeling, and it gives me back that best feeling on the days I really need it.

Album of the Week: HARK!

The people have spoken. Ya know, there are two types of albums in Record Club. The first is the terrible album that is terrifically fun to write about. The second is a good album that is kinda tough to write about. The people have chosen the latter, as Andrew Bird was clearly the best pick, musically speaking. But I think y'all made a mistake. I would've hated listening to Peppa Pig or Chicago or some fucking SNL chick, but man, would I have loved writing about that garbage.

Still, I'm glad Record Club remains a democracy, and I'm excited to see what y'all have to say about our whistling ornithological friend. Check him out below, after you check out the archives to the right, and the Record Club playlist HERE.

WEEK 46 — December 15-21, 2019

What we're listening to this week (per the group vote):

ALBUM: HARK! EP

ARTIST: Andrew Bird

RELEASED: November 8, 2019

WHAT GENRE IS THIS: CHRISTMAS (though Andrew Bird is usually indie/chamber pop-esque I guess?)

WHY WE PICKED IT: I have to assume it was because Peppa Pig scares everyone.

TRACKLIST:

1. Alabaster
2. Skating
3. Christmas Is Coming
4. White Christmas
5. Oh Holy Night
6. Night's Falling

LENGTH: 19:29

READING SOME SHIT: Being as this is a cast-off Christmas EP, I didn't expect Andrew Bird to be giving any interviews to promote it. But hark! Thank goodness for the local press!

Happy Listening, fam! Have a great week!

Song of the Week: "If We Were Vampires"

If you want to listen to all the songs of the week that were previous to this one then you can click HERE.

"If We Were Vampires"

Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit

from The Nashville Sound

2017

"If We Were Vampires" is Pam's favorite song of the decade. Since I'm right in the middle of my own decade's best rundown, I figured it would be a good time to talk about Pam's favorite as well. Here is a short conversation we had about it (since having the conversation and then transcribing it was a heck of a lot easier than forcing her to write about it).

Joe: Okay, so we just did a critical listen of "If We Were Vampires," which you say is your favorite song of the decade. And... you're crying a little bit.

Pam: I always cry when I listen to that song.

Joe: Why don't you tell me a little bit about this song. What did we just hear?

Pam: It's about how the fact that life ends makes it a gift, and something that's really important, and something that should be cherished. In the song, they talk about vampires, and how they are immortal, and how they don't have that same understanding that life is going to end. Relationships and families are not as important to them as people who are mortal. I think there's a quote from Six Feet Under. Someone is like, "Why do we have to die?" and Nate Fisher says, "To make life important." That's the sentiment as this song. Sorry... I'm going to cry through this whole thing.

[laughter]

Joe: Let it all out. Good art affects you!

Pam: I'm hormonal too. [laughter] And also, I haven't had any sleep for a month.

Joe: True. So what do you get out of it personally?

Pam: For me, it's about cherishing life, and being happy, and being in the moment. Because it does go by really fast. That's something that I struggle with. It's everything that I want to be is in this song. Realizing that it is a gift, that sometimes we should be be happy living in the moment.

Joe: I didn't mean to make you cry by making you do this.

Pam: I knew I was going to.

Joe: Has there been a time since this song came out where you acted differently, or had a different thought process, because you remember this song?

Pam: I try to every day. I have a tattoo that symbolizes "mindfulness," which is another way of saying "living in the moment," and I still struggle with it. This is another mantra for me. It is how I want to be.

Joe: Do you think people might dismiss this song because of the word "vampire" in the title?

Pam: Probably. It's a silly concept. But it's a good analogy, or metaphor.

Joe: A shortcut to discussing the idea of immortality.

Pam: Yeah. I can mention that I had to do a lecture for my nursing students about end-of-life care in nursing, and I made them watch Isbell perform this on The Daily Show, and think about it before the class.

Joe: Did anyone else cry?

Pam: I don't know if they cried, but they liked it.

Joe: How many of them were in relationships themselves?

Pam: Probably a good amount.

Joe: Do you feel like you have to be in a committed relationship to appreciate this song?

Pam: No. I don't know... maybe. There are certain parts of it that definitely speak to people who have families and are in relationships. But I don't think you have to be to appreciate it. Maybe it does register with people who are in relationships.

Joe: It's a pretty sparse song, which I think is good for this type of theme.

Pam: Yeah, are there even any drums?

Joe: No.

Pam: Do you not like this song then? [laughter]

Joe: I like it. It's not in my Top 100 or anything. But I like it, and I do think the subject matter makes it worthy of thinking about and being discussed, and being praised.

Pam: Definitely.

Joe: So who's going to go first?

Pam: Out of the two of us?

Joe: Yeah!

Pam: Oh, probably me. [laughter] I'll probably have an heart attack from all the anxiety I have.

Joe: Aw jeez.

Pam: The song immediately after this song on the album is "Anxiety."

Joe: Pam's second favorite song of the decade!

KIWANUKA, Erin

I picked the album KIWANUKA this week so obviously I enjoyed it. I had never listened to or heard of the artist, but I liked the theme in Big Little Lies, and saw that Danger Mouse helped produce it. Similar to Gnarls Barkley and Broken Bells, I really enjoy most anything that Danger Mouse does. The album demanded my attention, constantly shifting beats in the middle of songs. It transitions from encouraging to melancholy to intimate, and there really wasn’t a song I didn’t like. Gun to my head—favorite songs were "Hero" and "You Ain’t the Problem." It’s alternative, it’s indie, I jam out to it, it’s an album I can put on while driving to work or studying.

KIWANUKA, Sara

I can’t thank Erin enough for recommending this album! If you were going to skip this album, don’t. It’s the kind of music that makes me feel like I’m in a movie while walking down the street. It makes me feel introspective. It makes me feel good! I would have never come across this artist without Music Club, and for that I thank everyone! (Okay, I thank Joe but we can’t let him get a big head.)

KIWANUKA, Brian

I got halfway through this album before saying out loud “wait is this the guy who sings the fucking Big Little Lies theme song?” Review was tainted after that. Couldn’t help but think of that stupid little girl who has ~impeccable~ music taste on the show. They should’ve thrown her down the stairs instead. Do not hate me for being CORRECT.

2 out of 5 Pukes.

KIWANUKA, Nate

Here, then, after the neo-soul throwback beginning and the second-verse-same-as-the-first follow-up records, and after the "prestige television show opening credits song" crest of awareness that surely must have come (because there are only preciousness few vehicles left for such bids at broad public awareness and if getting your song on the "Rich Ladies are Fighting" show isn't one of them, I'm on the board for PayPal), comes Kiwanuka's art play, his attempt to book future festival spots for himself, reach for Gaye's brass ring, his ploy to play Coachella six times instead of being welcome at Essence Fest for an eternity.

And guess what? It fucking works like a charm. Kiwanuka's voice is a weapon of holy intent and sacramental power, and if he can use it to make purple, 11th grade, "hits bong once" couplets like "Time is a healer (Time is a healer) / Love is the answer (Love is the answer)" sound like the word of the almighty god itself, he can use it to blow a hole in the sun. Let this motherfucker sing whatever he wants, now and forever, amen. I hear your snarky asides about Kiwanuka being Frank Ocean for normies and I invite you eat the entirety of my ass. Go build a staircase, motherfucker, I'll be over here, collecting my liquid soul into my hands.