My (20) Favorite Songs of 2020

YEARS PAST: 2019 | 2018 | 2017 | 2016 | 2015 | 2014 | 2013 N/A | 2012

I had written previously that the pandemic had unexpectedly warped my appetite music; with the real world full of dread, I simply had no desire for my usual array of sad songs. I found myself wanting to keep things light and airy. I needed a spoonful of sugar.

As it turns out, there were some exceptions this year. In reviewing the songs that stuck with me, the songs I admired, and the songs that helped me get through this shit, I found a list that would be comparable to the last 9 years I’ve been writing these. A few specific artists who really shine in the dark were handicapped; a few artists that make fun music were amplified. But by and large, it’s still a parody of an aging thirty something that came up in the indie music blog era. Mazel tov!

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

  • Jeff Rosenstock - The Beauty of Breathing

  • Nosaj Thing - For the Light

  • Jay Electronica - The Binding (Ft. Travis Scott)

  • IDLES - Carcinogenic

  • Hamilton Leithauser - Isabella

20. Star Parks - Something More

“Because I was feeling sentimental about a cynical girl / feeling weighed down by the weight of the world"

Retromania has been the driving force of indie rock for the last 10 years now. It has gotten to the point where we don’t even think about the references or inspirations; everything just gets tagged with nebulous terms like “indie pop,” “dream pop,” or “indie folk.” It’s worth asking when this road turns into something else. But it’s also worth asking why it still works. Star Parks’ album The New Sounds of Late Capitalism has heavy motown elements put through a dream pop filter, and so it sounds like something you’ve heard before but new enough that you pay close attention. Is it such a wrong to provide the world with a new piece of a familiar set?

19. Tycho - Alright

You know what feels good during a global pandemic when you don’t want to think too hard about the many failures of American society? Tycho. Instrumental, breezy, the cool soundtrack to a perpetual sunset. All of his songs occupy the tricky space between active and chill, and “Alright” is no different. As always, his graphic design ties everything together and provides a mental image for the entire album to ruminate upon.

18. Taylor Swift - Cardigan

“But I knew you / playing hide-and-seek and giving me your weekends / I knew you”

As one of the dwindling poptimist skeptics, having to admit a Taylor Swift song belonged on this list was a real reckoning. I’m either insufferable for making a deal about it, or insufferable for letting a song from the Target playlist on my list of Refined Taste. Still, Swift cracked the code (of my brain) by collaborating with The National’s Aaron Dessner. His low key but slightly odd piano line combined with her breathy vocal performance is essentially just a prettier National song. It’s practically a take on 2019’s “Light Years.” I’m a sucker. If Taylor Swift sounded like this all the time, I would be a big fan.

17. Tame Impala - Breathe Deeper

“Breathe a little deeper, should you need to come undone / and let those colors run"

I think THE SLOW RUSH is a better record than CURRENTS, because it sounds more like their debut album LONERISM. “Breathe Deeper” in particular seems to channel the same subject matter that I really liked about their first album: anxiety you can nod your head to. The synth lines here create the atmosphere of an all-encompassing dancefloor, a swallowing sound; one that I wish I could have experienced in a darkened, crowded room in healthier times.

16. Dogleg - Prom Hell

“I know this feeling, it's in my home, my self, my name / my only conviction, no lack of fiction on my hands"

Dogleg was a gift from Spotify’s Discover Weekly, wrapped up neatly in a box and bow, with a note that said “sounds like Hot Water Music.” Something about this song’s use of power chords feels like the sweeping momentum of prime-era Hot Water Music, complete with shouted disgust in hooks. It never stops moving, never stops relenting.

15. Land of Talk - A/B Futures

“Ah, take my silhouette as self-light / don't make it disappear I want it near / something to care for / hey, make that me you're after"

Elizabeth Powell has one of the most pleasant voices in indie rock. Not because she’s a powerhouse, but because it packs in so much vulnerability; the kind of vulnerability that takes a certain amount of bravery or toughness to show. “A/B Futures” glides by on her singing and the amazing layering of instruments the band provides. They drop out, kick back in, pick up speed, drop to one instrument, and crescendo. It’s a ride worth taking.

14. Run the Jewels - Yankee and the Brave

“I'ma have your block hot as a sauna all summer / and I put that on Osama and my motherfuckin' momma / I'ma terrorize the actors playing like they want some drama"

For the fourth time in a row, Killer MIke and El-P have put together a handful of songs that are simply undeniable. The first couple of verses on “Yankee and the Brave” are purely unloading the clip with bars bursting at the seams with constant rhymes, and it’s exactly what you want to hear when you boot up RTJ4. There’s a weird thing about RTJ — they’re an aggressive duo with songs like grenades, but they’re also a favorite of the milque toast class. Just take a look at how often they’re deployed in movie soundtracks, from BOOKSMART to BAYWATCH to DEADPOOL 2. It’s a real Rage Against the Machine phenomenon happening with this band. People love the sound but probably aren’t reckoning with the lyrics about police murders.

13. Soccer Mommy - Circle the Drain

“It's a feeling that boils in my brain / I would dial back the flame / but I'm not sure I'm able"

This is, to my mind, a perfect indie rock song: a balance of upbeat and dour, lyrics that bring you in, and a circular melody that you love to ride over and over again. Sophie Allison writes about the particulars of depression as a full body experience: a spreading mold in the brain, a low feeling, a weight and a chain. They’re physically felt and impactful to the body. It matters not if it’s the yearning heart, the passing of a loved one, or just a chemical imbalance. It’s a depression song for all seasons. Break glass in case of emergency.

12. Caribou - You and I

“You can take your place up in the sky / I will find a way to carry on down here”

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever like a song as much as “Can’t Do Without You.” They had all the makings of a band that made one Great song, for a time and a place, that would be hard to replicate. Maybe they haven’t made something as infectious and eternal as “Can’t Do Without You,” but Caribou comes close several times on SUDDENLY. My favorite is “You and I” for it’s completely unexpected, kick-ass electronica breakdowns, like Disclosure or Flume making a run-in.

11. Empress Of - U Give It Up

“You’ve got no voice / when something bites / you pull back scared to fight / you give it up“

I like dance music, but not the kind of dance music most people want to dance to. If I could point to anything it would be that I wish more people made songs like Empress Of. There’s something try hard and unemotional about most of the wait-for-the-drop club music that Empress Of abstains from on her best songs. An added heart-warming bonus is the inclusion of a spoken word interlude from her mother. When I saw her in concert, she referred to her as Latina Knowles. It’s fun.

10. Phoebe Bridgers - Chinese Satellite

“Sometimes, when I can't sleep / it's just a matter of time before I'm hearing things / Swore I could feel you through the walls”

Something that spread rapidly from person-to-person in 2020 was also Phoebe Bridgers-mania. It is surreal, but also sensible, that the memelord and stirring songwriter would reach mainstream celebrity status and critical acclaim. A song like “Chinese Satellite” is tailor made for that kind of recognition: beautifully arranged with string instruments, plain spoken lyrics about the nature of faith, and tumbling drums to keep people engaged. In a previous era, when we still made movies that weren’t about superheroes, this would’ve been the signature track to a dramatic romance film starring a Meg Ryan type.

9. Lauren Auder - june 14th

“Darling, every night could end with you / put me on the spot, I'll say I do / honey, every morning with you”

Maybe the best love song of the year — meaning, the song that resembles what it’s like to fall in love the most. It replicates that warm, scary, empowering miasma through a climactic song structure. Fast paced except for one tender middle, building to searing guitar riffs, colored with declarations of truth — it’s an emotional heavyweight that just might fucking kill you. Auder, a transgender woman, has a weathered voice that feels as though she’s been through a lot, and everytime she says “with you, with you” it drops me to the floor. It’s certainly a song I will be going back to for years to come.

8. Sufjan Stevens - The Ascension

“I thought I could change the world around me / I thought I could change the world for best / I thought I was called in convocation / I thought I was sanctified and blessed”

A new Sufjan Stevens album came out this year and yet, it did not feel like a galvanizing event it normally is. I chalk that up to my pandemic tastes being wary of truly dire moods. I know this because I have listened to “The Ascension” dozens of times, loved it, and also never tried to think of it as soon as it was over. In a way, “The Ascension” feels like a piece of CARRIE & LOWELL that somehow floated through a wormhole to land in 2020. It’s a heady, literary poem about a moment of clarity on the end of innocence. It is hard not read this as a retraction of Sufjan’s ILLINOIS-era songs about America. Back then, patriotism informed by state fun facts was a cute zag when everyone else was zigging. Today, it feels like the wrong side of the barricade.

7. Waxahatchee - Fire

“I'm a bird in the trees / I can learn to see with a partial view / I can learn to be easy as I move in close to you"

Waxahatchee has on her hands a bona fide second level breakthrough album, which is not a luxury everyone gets in the post-indie boom/spotify era. It’s so rare to see someone have a great debut and then find an evolutionary sound that doesn’t sound like a temporary novelty. Sometimes people just figure it out. The big single, “Fire” exemplifies the new sound: smart, breezy, easy-going, self-assured.

6. Bright Eyes - The Death’s Heart (In Three Parts)

“I'll ask my love / What will she say? / What's it like to live with me here every fucking day?"

It is as they say: the more things change, the more you still listen to Bright Eyes nearly 20 years after High School. Their return album couldn’t have come in a worse year, but they proved that they’ve still got it. Oberst’s voice may never age, and they seem to have a secure sense of their historical sound that they can aim for it rather than run for it. You will hear the slide guitars, the female backing vocals, lyrics about god and armageddon. There will also be surprises, like Flea on the bass and a dynamic electric guitar solo. For all its latin incantations and apocalyptic anxiety, “To Death’s Heart” is a longing, ascendant example of the Bright Eyes epic.

5. HAIM - Gasoline

“I took a drag / but I shouldn't have / now I'm coughing up like I / never smoked a pack”

HAIM songs often have great rhythm sections, cool guitar parts and evocative lyrics. But they are at their best as a Vibes Band, and “Gasoline” is a Vibes tour de force. Its temperament and melody brings to mind the golden light of west coast sunset, with a clockwork clattering drum line and vocals that stretch and pull into the ether. The minute-long denouement on the song is one of the most satisfying wind downs of the year, bringing to mind Wilco songs like “Impossible Germany.”

4. Nana Grizol - South Somewhere Else

“Multiracial resistance to greedful ambitions / cast out in revisionist spells / power concedes 'bout as much as it leads / as we started to see for ourselves”

Songs with a political theme are extremely hard, we know this. It’s either so ham-fisted that it becomes insincere and arrogant, or it’s so subtextual that leading people to an understanding of anything meaningful is a longshot. Some bands work on a different lane by focusing on the emotions that are tied with poltiical struggle. Nana Grizol, on the other hand, is unafraid to pack their songs with dense political musings, references to theory and history, and do it in an emotive, punchy package. It’s like the best possible form of indie-folk Bad Religion. Even the mere subject matter - white liberal ignorance of complicity in racial injustice - is a minefield for lesser skilled bands. Nana Grizol is one of the best things I discovered in the hell year.

3. Remi Wolf - Woo! (Porches Remix)

“You've got nothing but a feeling / nothing but a feeling for your love”

When it comes to a single album, top to bottom, that impressed me most, Remi Wolf’s “I’m Allergic to Dogs” is at the top of the list. There are so many unskippable bangers on this album that it’s hard to believe. Yet, it’s a B-side remix featuring Porches that took up most of my brain space. Remi Wolf’s kinetic, staccato singing and dense rhyming scheme pairs beautifully with Porches penchant for simple grooves. The original “Woo!” is a fine piece — but it’s a leisurely stroll, a cruising song. Porches ups the tempo and builds into it a cathartic urgency that feels like a full body purge.

2. Owen Pallett - A Bloody Morning

“In a certain slant of light the feeling will hit me / like a man against the waves and a violent wind / waking up in a bloody morning”

What’s pandemic art going to look like? This is a question I wondered about in-between existential dread about the breaking of society. It turns out — not a lot of good stuff. Every time I saw a romantic drama starring people in masks or sitcom reunions filmed on Zoom, it just felt like a reality I didn’t want to deal with. These were not excavations of truths that were hard to get to; they were surface level, obvious, and often tried to put a happy face on a dire world.

One of the biggest exceptions I found came from Owen Pallett’s music video for “A Bloody Morning.” While it’s ostensibly a tale about trying to steer out of a shipwreck, its metaphorical value can be taken anywhere. By filming a diverse crew of professional dancers through zooming shots in windows, the video creates magical surrealism under pandemic conditions. Seemingly regular every day folks, from all walks of life, expressing something dark through contemporary dance. Set to dizzying violins and ticking time bomb drums, it’s a masterpiece of paranoia and a statement about what it really feels like out here.

1. Car Seat Headrest - Life Worth Missing

“I hear women in my head with ordinary names / that ring like magic through some malfunction in my brain / your hands were warm though you came in from the cold / I took one and held it / and suddenly I started to shake”

“Life Worth Missing” is a song about looking back at everything you’ve accomplished, everything that you haven’t, and everyone that you’ve ever loved. Lead singer Will Toledo contemplates every untaken path in his life with a heavy heart, not because he knows those options are better, but because their unknown blankness gives them the potential to still be better than the current state of affairs. It’s not merely a question of regret, but examining the concept of pride in the life you have lead. If a life story can be boiled down into value, what parts of your life, your choices, would you say have created that value? It’s an impossible question to answer, and it feels bad to ask. The immense emotional weight it manages to summon slowly over the course of the song eventually capsizes as Toledo sings: “I feel it break / I feel the weight of anger, pain and sorrow.”

But Toledo could never have guessed the synergy this kind of deathbed song would have with the pandemic year. If you’re any kind of attentive person that keeps up with the news, the looming doom upon the world felt inescapable. Even knowing that this pandemic will end some day made us confront, on a daily basis, the basic brokenness of the modern world. The institutions will continue to fail us, care will be a scarce commodity, and nothing can ever knock us out of this death spiral.

There is no magic solution here. The thing it offers us is the thing we all ultimately know: we just carry it with us. “We walk with no goodbyes or tomorrows / this is destiny” followed soon after by the final line: “Mend the fence with the best of grace / It’s pleasantries to the bottom of the page. I’m sorry.”

It’s not a triumphant victory over dread and pessimism. It’s an attempt at mitigating harm to others. After indulging in the navel-gazing of a satisfying life, it is armed with the understanding that there are other people in this world, too, and there’s a responsibility for them amidst all of it.