I’m way late getting this list out, but if we’re going by last year, then I’m right on time because I guess this is my new normal. I’d like to also do a Best of the 2010s List, but that will be even later in the year.

Personal life win: I’m getting married this year! Now I can listen to love songs without feeling bitter. But seriously, I’ve been doing these lists since I got out of high school in 2003 back on my LiveJournal. It’s wild how far it’s all come. I’d like to do a deeper reflection on the decade of music, but once again, that will be saved for that list. Until then, I’ll just say that 2019 was fantastic for both music and me.

I typically discuss new trends and other observations here. I mean, this is a format that evolves slowly as I only do them once a year. I guess it’s a good idea to have continuity. Firstly, from a personal observation. I’m turning 35 in 2020, and that means I’m starting to feel… older. I wouldn’t say old — just older. But the age gap between me and some of the artists I listen to has become increasingly apparent to me. And I’m pleased to say that it doesn’t really impact my ability to enjoy or respect it. Artists like Clairo and beabadoobee (still waiting on her full LP!) have wowed me this year. And while not every latest trend has appealed to me (looking at you, mumble rap) I’m happy to try to keep up with as much new and progressive music that’s being put out there by younger people. I hope this never changes, because it keeps me feeling young and open minded myself.

What I notice most about new music coming out today… is that it’s all over the fucking place. I mean that in a good way, and I honestly don’t think it will ever change. I had pondered this idea almost a decade ago: as a culture, we’re building this insane electronic library of media that’s accessible globally. Not just music, but movies, TV, video games, fiction, non-fiction, you name it. The tools of music creation have already become more widely accessible, but now information media itself has become ever-present. Obviously it has been for some time – I mean, the Internet wasn’t invented yesterday. But people who are entering maturity and creating art today are people who essentially grew up on the Internet from a young age (whereas my generation started up with that a bit later). Now, not every kid is on Wikipedia reading about musique concrète and the history of experimental music and shit, but I think plenty of them are. And that’s already having an impact on the music that’s out there.

I’ve noticed the new generation being more accepting, open-minded, and diverse in their interests. I’m thinking about Denzel Curry and how influenced by death metal and punk he is, despite his primarily Miami hip-hop pedigree. I think it’s awesome how much crossover appeal music is having these days, and I think that’s also going to lead to a lot of new creative energy. I think we will see more and more genre blending artists in the decade to come. But we will see a lot of everything to come.

Popular trends will come and go as always – but I think from now until we burn the planet down, there will be a giant layer of independently produced music that will satisfy just about every urge. There will always be some shoegaze revival bands, there will always be some artists progressing IDM even further, there will always be heartfelt singer songwriters, there will always be Japanese bands making Western punk music and American bands making J-pop inspired music until we’re done with all these silly geographic labels. Maybe eventually all labels will go away, and we’ll all just be listening to the same random sonic frequencies designed by some monolithic music algorithm to appeal to all human tastes. Maybe humans will overpopulate and play all their music all so loud that it creates a gigantic, thunderous wall of noise that deafens everyone until we’re left with the greatest song of all – silence. Or maybe kids will just get high and cover Pink Floyd, fuck if I know. Here’s my favorite albums of 2019, see you next year.

50. Hibou – Halve

49. Chain Wallet – No Ritual

48. Patience – Dizzy Spells 

47. Whitney – Forever Turned Around

46. Universe Nekoko – Kimi No Youni Ikiretara

45. Alcest – Spiritual Instinct 

(protect yr ears, turn volume down if you must. metal ahead)

44. Hatchie – Keepsake

43. The Soft Cavalry – The Soft Cavalry 

42. Bibio – Ribbons

41. Vampire Weekend – Father of the Bride

40. Freddie Gibbs & Madlib – Bandana

39. DIIV – Deceiver

38. Chromatics – Closer To Grey

37. Liturgy – H.A.Q.Q.

(protect yr ears, turn volume down if you must. metal ahead)

36. Jenny Hval – The Practice of Love

35. Ada Lea – what we say in private 

34. Clairo – Immunity

33. Alex Lahey – The Best of Luck Club

32. Men I Trust – Oncle Jazz

31. Kano – Hoodies All Summer

30. Eartheater – Trinity

29. Hand Habits – placeholder

28. SAULT – 5

27. woods + segal – Hiding Places 

26. Barker – Utility

25. Denzel Curry – ZUU

24. Aldous Harding – Designer

23. Floating Points – Crush

22. Uboa – The Origin of My Depression

21. Bill Callahan – Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest

20. William Doyle – Your Wilderness Revisited

19. Xiu Xiu – Girl with Basket of Fruit

18. Anamanaguchi – [USA]

17. The National – I Am Easy To Find

16. Big Thief – Two Hands

15. CHAI – PUNK

14. Danny Brown – uknowhatimsayin¿

13. FKA twigs – MAGDALENE

12. Charli XCX – Charli

11. Richard Dawson – 2020

10. Hannah Diamond – Reflections

I think this record’s reception was unfair. PC Music isn’t exactly a household name yet, so right off the bat, it went under the radar for a lot people. But for those who have been following Hannah Diamond and the rest of the PC Music catalog, most of these songs weren’t new–they’re a culmination of many singles. Perhaps that’s why I was able to obtain so much enjoyment from this record. I hadn’t been following her career, so I came in this album with fresh ears from beginning to end.

I found it the production to be absolutely masterful. It’s no wonder the album was years in the making, single after single. It’s lush with detail — every musical passage is explored with care and precision. Everything has robotic precision behind it, yet there’s an emotional, human element to the album. I think this makes it one of the most important pieces of music that are exploring the dichotomy between analog and digital — between the heart and the brain. This album sounds like an AI having its emotion chip installed, and exploring feeling for the first time. It’s so pure and delicate, yet also weirdly sterile and inhuman. While Charli XCX released a more technically impressive record, I didn’t have these feelings listening to it. Whereas Charli felt like the next step of avant-pop becoming a mainstream genre, Reflections doesn’t feel as attached to its influences and its place in that lineage. It recognizes and is more self-aware of its medium, and the ideas it wants to explore within it. I’m reminded of Robyn’s Body Talk in this way, which is probably the first record that made me feel like I was listening to the future of pop music we now live. But since then, albums are getting and more refined, detailed, and immaculate in their sound. This is what people 70 years ago thought the future of music would sound like. What a time to be alive.

9. Little Simz – GREY Area

GREY Area is a balance. On one side, you’ve got simple, straightforward, boom bap lyricism on songs like “Offence,” “Boss”, and “Venom.” On the second side, you’ve got lush, layered beats with alt. R&B influence on songs like “Selfish” and “Flowers.” And these are also balanced lyrically on the album, as it moves through a full spectrum of emotion from anger to sadness to hope and nostalgia. Little Simz spits with… well, venom on this record. Her flow is one of the album’s main features, and she raps over an creative variety of beats that strongly match the lyrical themes. It’s supremely consistent in quality. This is an album no hip-hop fan should miss.

8. yeule – Serotonin II

Serotonin II is yeule’s breakout album and one of the best examples of ambient pop the often subdued subgenre has to offer. It brings in dream pop influences to bring in more atmosphere and melody into its lush, enigmatic soundscape. It’s not for everyone – like black metal, except it’s a case of its bold softness rather than its harshness. It reminds me of Grimes’ earlier work on Visions and prior. But where Visions felt like minimal pop wanting to be something more (and eventually becoming so on Art Angels) Serotonin II has a straightforward mission of deconstructing pop to become ambient music.

7. JPEGMAFIA – All My Heroes Are Cornballs

While avant-hop has been a thing for over two decades, it’s still got so much more room to grow. It’s in a place where it needs to self-reflect – and this is that self-reflection. All My Heroes Are Cornballs brings avant-hop full circle through bringing in more modern influences like trap, then running it over with a monster truck of experimentation and cynicism. While All My Heroes Are Cornballs might not have as strong of singles or lyrics of his previous album, Veteran, it works much better as a cohesive project. Which is is strange, because the album is all over the place. It’s constantly challenging to the listener in its frequent shifting of ideas and sounds. Yet, the fact that the album is as weird and progressive as it is, yet still seeming like a tapestry cut from the same piece of fabric is insane. I think it’s this aspect that’s the most impressive and under-appreciated aspect of the album. The lyrics here are Peggy at his most abstract, which matches the production. He’s still taking jabs at just about everything in the world, but now they’re even more nuanced and multi-layered. JPEGMAFIA will continue to be a project to watch – it’s crazy how much potential he has. I don’t think we’ve seen the best from him yet, and we’ve already seen some amazing work.

6. Michael Kiwanuka – KIWANUKA

This is is powerful neo-soul with stellar production and performances. It’s perfected a classic blend of psych rock, folk, blues, and soul that feels like he took a time machine to the ’70 to record this and come back to 2019 with the proof. The songwriting is sharp and compelling, the melodies are infectious, and the themes feel universal. I find it interesting that Danger Mouse had a production hand on this record – it’s crazy how far he’s come since 2004’s The Grey Album. Who knew a mashup artist would end up becoming one of the most prolific producers of his time? I think what helps is that DM’s production doesn’t seem to get in the way of Kiwanuka finding his sound on this record – he merely provides the best possible platform for it to be showcased. It pays off, as these songs stand timeless and powerful.

5. 100 gecs – 1000 gecs

I don’t even know where to start with this record. On my first listen, I thought it was annoying. On my second listen, I thought it had some good ideas but was mostly stupid. On my third listen, I realized that I was dancing to a ska-inspired song about losing money on horse racing, and said fuck it, this is pretty fun. 1000 gecs dabbles in the space of PC music and bubblegum bass, but where other artists in those spaces are going for a calculated, harmonious take on the human condition through the lens of futurism, 1000 gecs shotguns a cheap beer and burps in the human condition’s face. But then it does a cartwheel and throws out some of the most well-produced, tightly-layered, experimental-yet-listenable pop music. And then it cracks open another beer.

This is a record that brings in so many influences – yet none of them quite stick as a label. I already mentioned PC music, bubblegum bass, and ska. But there’s also pop punk, screamo, club dance, noise pop, ringtone pop. The song “800db cloud” falls apart into death metal as well. Other genres like bluegrass, video game music, and hip-hop are flirted with momentarily before moving on to the next idea. 100 gecs aren’t the first artist to blend genres in this way, but their handling over them is so confident and un-self-conscious. They don’t seem to ask whether or not they can pull something off – they just go for it, and ask questions later. Not every experiment works on the album, but no experiment overstays its welcome. They’re already moving onto the next idea, which keeps the album listenable through its entirety. Add to that some highly infectious chorus melodies and you’ve got an album that weirdly easy to keep coming back to, even though on the surface it’s boisterous and immature. But I feel like if you can’t at least smile at the strange humor on this record, then maybe you are the one who needs to grow up.

4. Westkust – Westkust

Every once and awhile, I have an album towards the top of this list that just doesn’t fit. This is not an album that’s met with universal acclaim, although people are generally favorable about it. Westkust’s self-titled sophomoric album is–on the surface–a run-of-the-mill shoegaze album in an era when nu-gaze is already starting to run out of steam. Its artistic vision isn’t large; its sonic palette isn’t diverse. But when I turn this thing on, I can’t turn it off. It’s infectious. It’s liquid euphoria. It’s saccharine sweet and blindingly bright. It’s bursting out an energy that makes life worth living. It’s not an album for everyone, but it’s an album everyone should listen to. If I were God, I would play this album so loud the Earth would shift off its axis, hearing loss be damned. But for now, I’ll settle for blasting it in my car with the windows down on a nice day. This is noise rock that somehow manages to bring in beautiful melodies that takes the edge off the dissonance. It’s a sunny, spring album in a genre that’s more often frequented by the aura of dark winters. It’s loud and wild, unkempt like nature and fueled by the spirit and hope of youth. It’s fun. It’s vibrant. It’s passionate. It’s an album that turns an okay day into a good day, and a good day into a great day. In answer to one of its song titles, “Do You Feel It,” I gotta say: the answer is fuck yes. 

3. Lana Del Rey – Norman Fucking Rockwell!

At the beginning of the year, as far as albums that would predict would be in my top 10 favorites this year, I would have much guessed Vampire Weekend would be here, not Lana Del Rey. Not that I’ve ever had something against Lana Del Rey; she’s got some good songs and a nice enough voice, but in recent years she hasn’t wowed me. Her music had become fairly predictable to me, and I wasn’t her biggest fan to begin with.

Enter: NFR! I didn’t have any expectations for this album. The thing that caught my eye before I even started listening were the song lengths: up to 9+ minutes with many in the 5+ minute range. That could either be a good or a bad thing. For pop music, it’s a big risk. If the songs aren’t strong enough, the album can easily overstay its welcome.

Fortunately, the album earns its long run time with deft songwriting, careful production, and plenty of unexpected turns. This is Lana Del Rey’s most mature and most expressive album to date. It’s adult contemporary risen to heights of art pop through sheer form and songwriting prowess. Themes of love, loss, and heartbreak are hard to make fresh and relevant, especially with the somewhat homely selection of timbres they fall on: softly plucked acoustic guitars, pianos, and acoustic drums that don’t exactly pack a punch. But those pieces are performed to delicate perfection, and they are also balanced with an edgy haze of electric guitars that perhaps mark the album’s mischievous and fawned-over masculinity.

NFR! is an interesting case of a bittersweet breakup album that reflects on lust, love, and loss. It’s a romance that was real and deep, and it is a long, nostalgic, and dreamy recollection of those fondest memories. It’s not terribly sour, and still remains hopeful for the future. This actually makes the album more heartbreaking, in a way. The lyrics–when capturing the essence of this relationship–is so pure, romantic, and genuine. It would seem that all of these things ultimately were surface level, and didn’t lend themselves to a long-term relationship. But there’s still that reminiscing of something so sweet and something so magical. This makes the album’s happiest moments also a punch in the gut. That’s nostalgia for you.

The album also puts forward some observations of a woman in modern day America and abroad. “Venice Bitch” shows Lana Del Rey’s most creative aspirations through its 9+ minute runtime as it fades into psychedelic noodling. “hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have – but I have it” is a long form address containing Sylvia Plath references coming to terms with challenges of her path, the downsides of success, and finding the strength to keep going despite of all obstacles. It’s a feminist anthem that’s more personal than political.

2. Purple Mountains – Purple Mountains 

This is one of albums that’s so good, yet so hard to listen to. This makes it like Mount Eerie’s A Crow Looked At Me, but this time, the album comes prior to the tragedy rather than after. For those that don’t know, David Berman–the main songwriter behind Purple Mountains and prior frontman of indie folk rock outfit Silver Jews–took his life about a month after this album’s release. This makes the album’s topics of giving up hope, losing the will to find happiness in life, and witnessing someone move on without you so heartbreaking, genuine, and chilling.

It’s an album that’s both existential (“Margaritas at the Mall”) and nihilistic (“Darkness and Cold”). The album constantly makes references to what we leave behind after we’re gone, and refers to existential matters in the past tense. But this album is more than a wallow of sadness and depression. As far as the songs go, they’re quite good, and quite listenable. I think some of this is thanks to who Berman collaborated with on this album: the band Woods, who Berman found after many years of testing out different bands to match the sound he was going for on this album. His searching paid off – I think it’s one of the best records that band has worked on even including their own albums which sometimes lack in songwriting (but usually excel in the performance).

It’s a collaboration I really wish we could have seen unfold over the years to come. I wish we could have seen Berman triumph over his demons, his debt, and his depression. I wish we could have seen him get back to his funny witticisms and self-deprecation that at least came with a measure of hope. But there’s no hope for that, as there’s no hope on this album. There was no hope left in his life. If anyone out there feels that way, please reach out. Reach out to me, someone close to you, or a crisis hotline. People do care and there is hope, even when it seems like people don’t and it’s hopeless. And above all, know you are not alone in how you feel. I think that should be all too apparent with Purple Mountains. But that outcome isn’t the right next step. It’s not better to leave people like me wondering for what could have been. It’s better to just show them what can be.

1. Weyes Blood – Titanic Rising

In an interview that asked Natalie Mering what is a “song she wished she wrote,” she mentioned Stardust, which was originally written by Hoagy Carmichael but popularized through Nat King Cole. It’s through this lens of the Nat King Cole version of that song that Titanic Rising makes so much sense from both song and sonic perspectives. This album is dripping in nostalgia and a dreamy, cinematic wonder. It’s what gives the songs such a timeless, classic feel despite their being released in 2019. 

I began these words a bit in medias res. Let’s start from the beginning. “A Lot’s Gonna Change” is one of the most impressive album openers I’ve heard in a long time. The song begins with 20 seconds of hazy, lo-fi synthesizers that transport you into a dreamlike vision of Classic Hollywood films. It is somber, reflective, wistful. This sets the tone for the entire album to follow. Slow pianos begin a crescendo’s march toward lyrical themes, which are also reinforced throughout the album. These are themes of longing, looking back on the memories of our youth that shaped us so. For Natalie (as well as myself), her memories were shaped by media she consumed in her adolescence. This is painfully compared to the present, which is full of change and heartbreak through the loss of friends, family, and loved ones that didn’t make it through to be around in your adulthood. 

As “A Lot’s Gonna Change” had its own crescendo, the album itself follows its own building rise. On “Andromeda,” Natalie issues a dare: “If you can save me, I dare you to try.” The song is bittersweet–part hope, part despair–in its search for something worthwhile in reality, looking to the stars for some meaning. Though she frequently comes up short in this search, she does have some promise. “Think it’s meant to be / More than anything I can think of / I’m ready to try.” She doesn’t know for sure, but love is calling, and it might be real. It might just hold together. It might just live up to the dream.

The album’s meteoric (or should I say, titanic) rise reaches its high-impact climax with “Everyday.” Natalie admitted that this song originated because her father requested one favor for her next album: Please write one upbeat song.  Well, she came through in a big way. The song is ecstasy. This is one of the most perfect pop songs written in the decade. Five minutes is usually pushing it for a pop song, but here, but it breezes by so easily. There’s not a dull moment through Natalie’s channeling of Karen Carpenter in her most uplifting and melodic vocals. It was quite a tall order to sing over this song, because it’s a sonic masterpiece. The song is immaculately layered: pianos, synthesizers, harpsichord, strings, and most booming of all: harmonic voices that sound like they are stretching across the boundless sky.

Now, I should be honest that I don’t think Natalie is one of the best vocalists in music–she’s good, but there are better out there. However, I think that makes it so much more of an incredible feat here. I love that she rises to the challenge of singing on “Everyday” despite the epic proportions of its dense layering, its triumphant volume, and its cinematic crescendo. It’s so impressive and inspiring. The song has brought me to tears multiple times because of how beautiful it is, and this doesn’t happen often for me. And it’s ironic that the song to bring me to tears is the album’s most cheerful and lively. But the song does have its edges: it has plenty of doubt (“then again, love’s not easy…”). It’s a reminder of the song this album is on. Through this album’s themes, happiness seems a temporary status plagued by doubt and jadedness, which makes the elation all the more emotional when it appears. Happiness and belonging are things to be cherished and held onto, because they are fickle things in this life.

This is where you think the album might lose steam. It doesn’t. “Something to Believe” continues the album’s compelling themes and rich timbres, recalling some of the ever so subtle country-twang that sprung up on “Andromeda.” Once again, Natalie is reaching for something real and potent in life: something to believe. Without religion, she’s left with an existential void that can only be filled with her dreams, and her dreams are fueled by a media that rarely compare to real life. That theme specifically explored on “Movies.” The album’s title track bridges Side A and Side B. The ambient interlude once again brings us back to the album’s dreamy intro synthesizers — it’s a wonderful touch of production to help tie the album’s sonic palette together.

The beginning of Side B is where things could have taken a turn for the worse. The first half of this album is so strong and incredible. And while I don’t think the second half quite reaches that height, it’s not far off. As I was saying, “Movies” is a slow burn love song. But it’s not a love song to a person; it’s a love song to film. I’m not sure I connected to any lyrics as personally as these this year. They’re thoughts that I’ve held within myself that I don’t frequently share to others. To hear them sung loudly and emotionally on this song really struck a chord with me. I actually think they’re thoughts that many of us have that we don’t often confront, especially those of us that love film, literature, role-playing games, or any other medium with a strong story component. It’s deeper than the admiration of thing. It’s more embarrassing than personal connection. It’s the hopeless desire to be a part of that thing yourself, and for others to see you through that lens. Put me in a movie and everyone will know me / You’ll be the star you know you are / The movies I watched when I was a kid. The hopes and the dreams / Don’t give credit to the real things. / I love movies.

“Mirror Forever” is another slower, more reflective song on the album. I think it’s one of the most underrated songs on the album. The lyrics are universally sympathetic. “No one’s ever gonna give you a trophy / For all the pain and the things you’ve been through / No one knows but you.” And “Wild Time” is a song that’s grown on me the more I’ve listened to it, especially after hearing it performed on her NPR Tiny Desk Concert. “Picture Me Better” is one last wistful plea to the audience, another bittersweet symphony of longing that hopelessly flirts with a bygone era while eyeing the future hesitantly. While not quite as epic as the songs that come before, it’s more restrained and delicate with soft acoustic guitars strummed over a heavenly symphonic backdrop. The album is closed with “Nearer to Three” which draws upon a simple string performance that strikes into familiar melodies of the album, sending the listener (or at least me) off to want to listen again.

Titanic Rising is one of the most beautifully layered art pop albums ever created, brought to incredible life through inspired songwriting, enchanting performances, and universal themes of childhood nostalgia and adult pain. Writing these lists in some blog or another since 2003, I hide my lack of confidence in music criticism behind the guise of “these are just my favorites, guys.” They’re my personal choices, and I rarely seek to project authority on the subject of music because I believe it is something so personal, subjective, and difficult to measure. But here in 2019, I stand my ground objectively. Titanic Rising is not only my favorite album of the year, it is the best damn album to come out this year. I’ll fight on that claim. If there was a better album, I didn’t hear it through many thousands of hours of listening. In an era when so many albums–including a handful on this list–are pushing artistic boundaries, Titanic Rising is the album we needed to bring us full circle. It’s not only the best of 2019, it would easily be in the top 10 of the decade.