NYCweboy

The Best Of What We Heard 2020

The easy excuse is to say I haven't done this in a while because I was busy... but let's be honest: pop music hasn't been in a great place for a while, and, if anything, composers and songwriters may be the biggest beneficiaries of the Pandemic in the arts: those who write have in many ways been gifted with the time and space to create in a way that there hasn't been in years. While performing artists have struggled, creativity and imagination aren't bound by a quarantine. And the steady, yet persistent appearance of a considerable amount of new music from musicians of all sorts suggests there's definitely been a flowering in the quarantine hothouse. 

For me, it was an amazing year to see pop, but especially dance music, rebound so thoroughly. By the end of the year, two major international stars had returned to their dancefloor roots. and several others were exploring the surprisingly alive, and not merely retro faddish take on classic disco. And I do mean classic... much of the work could have played through the heyday of 1978, and not in a cheesy way at all. And that, my friend, is progress.

In no particular order, but all with a lot of joy:

• Kylie Minogue, Disco. Kylie shot to stardom as a high eighties pop princess with Stock Aitken Waterman in Britain, then left them at the height of success... only to dip back into retro dance grooves (try "Light Years") and then neo New Wave ("Can't Get You Out of My Head"), before heading off into new and different directions, record after record and a string of smash world tours to boot. So it's hilarious and scary to see her loop back around... to a straight up retro seventies disco record that is also a Star at the height of her powers. Disco is pure ear candy of a sort Kylie has made a career on, each song more glittery and joyous than the last. For my money, the best grooves are some combination of France Joli meets The Sylvers at some intersection of Chic and Giorgio Moroder (Spotlight, I Love It)... but there's an embarrassment of riches here for diehard dance fans of all sorts.
• BTS, Dynamite. K-Pop's leading export has smoothly jumped into an American presence after "Boy With Luv" suggested that even a smidge of English splashed across their super sweet grooves would vault them to the top here as in the Far East. But Dynamite goes a step further, finding a new sweet spot in their own take on retro disco, while swiping the feel of Bruno Mars if he overdosed on starshine. If the lure of BTS remains primarily visual (the candy colored videos, spot on choreography and winsome good looks), Dynamite holds up, play after play after play...
  

• Harry Styles, Adore You. I'm not a fan of Styles' heavily overexposed "look at me I'm wearing a dress" attention seeking in Vogue and elsewhere... nor do I think his blandly pleasant (no current song stylist is less readily identifiable) singing is the biggest or best export from One Direction (I'll take Zayn or Liam -- see below -- any day). Which is why no encomiums to "Watermelon Sugar" or its saucy suggestiveness. That said, the man knows his way around good ear candy and Adore You swoops and soars on creamy harmonies and just within reach high notes. A little stalky? Sure. Still a bit oversexed? Absolutely. Without that dress, really, he's just one in a long line of pale male stars.
• The 1975, Notes on a Conditional Form. I find the 1975, and my love of them, hard to quantify... it's like if Yes woke up and decided to be Haircut 100, or something. There's definitely Art Rock in there, and a love of 80s synth pop that's breathtaking to behold... but what's remarkable, really, is how it all makes such brilliant sense. Proving that their run of success is no fluke, Notes on a Conditional Form builds solidly on all they've done so far and moves forward on the art rock, the glorious synths, and the angelic vocal harmonies that accompany them. Fuzzed up lyrics might be less than meets the eye... but is "Leave It" or "Owner of a Lonely Heart" really that deep? I think not... and isn't that really the point?
• Lady Gaga, Chromatica. She continues to go her own way musically, so after A Star is Born and "Shallow" why not... go back and reassert your dominance in dance music? The "larger than life and twice as natural" quality of Gaga can be... a bit much, but as dance divas go, this is a vastly more conceptual and complete record than anything Madonna's done in at least 10 years, and at least a "something for everyone" notion of songs. For my money, she's at her best when it's not trying too hard, which is why "Rain On Me" works best as that Ariana Grande single that shakes the guest's complacency, or why "Sour Candy" isn't so much "Gaga does K pop" as "BlackPink works in American too". Off the guest appearances (why Elton John, why?), "Free Woman", "Replay", "1000 Doves" offer solid grooves and just enough lyrical thoughtfulness to prove that good dance music can think, too. Not everything can be an instant stomper, but mad respect for aiming for the 3rd mezzanine every time.
• Post Malone, Circles. I don't know much, but when rap/hip hop stars are versatile enough to go acoustic eclectic, well, I'll totally show up for it. In a year when rap seems a bit lost (don't get me started on that "WAP" business), Malone made the best case that labels, at best, should mean nothing. "Run away... but we're running in circles..." is just about the best lyrical sum up for life, relationships, and a year like no other.
• Taylor Swift, Betty (and folklore). Swift couldn't quite contain herself, dropping "folklore" in the spring, and then whooshing out "evermore" at the end of the year. It's an overwhelming indication of her talent that she has 2 full (fuller than full, really) albums in her on a slow day... but evermore's endless flow of "sad pieces I wrote at the piano" could perhaps have used some time to percolate. But why quibble? folklore, on its own, isn't just a brilliant Swift album, it's a folk rock arthouse gem that silences virtually all the nitpickers at Swift's ability to stand tall with giants in the music biz. Not necessarily a singles album, and I don't need a "fuzzy sweater and cocoa" record, myself... but "betty" is masterful songwriting at its peak, no matter how you slice it.
• Dan+Shay and Justin Bieber, 10,000 Hours. Bieber is still very much a post rehab work in progress... but there's a lot to suggest he's on the right track.  "10,000 hours" benefits from his vocal drop in... but more than that, it's a reminder that Bieber's real strength as a vocalist doesn't often get the recognition it deserves. Wide open and exposed on this acoustic track, the warmth of Bieber's tenor and his ability to inhabit a lyric isn't anything bravura or showy... it's just stars, after all, are meant to shine.
• Liam Payne, LP1. Amidst a glut of One D solo efforts, Payne has run somewhat under the radar, dropping singles and building interest while the others jumped out fully formed. I'd say the wait was worth it... Payne manages to carve out a pop/dance space for himself that isn't as tortured as Zayn's, not the attention whore of Styles and not afraid to embrace the mix of sex and mass appeal melodies that made him a star. "Strip that Down" and "Stack it Up" aren't subtle... but they are minimalist surprises, while "Bedroom Floor" makes its point without overdoing it. But for me it's "Polaroid" and "Get Low" that suggest the party by way of Ibiza vibe that the others just miss. 

Other notes: I spent the year rounding out and revisiting my favorites: a slew of Jody Watley, moving Thompson Twins to my iTunes, Finally grabbing this Jackie Wilson tune and that Meghan Trainor song that Target used so effectively in ads. That, and I largely gave up on Top 40 radio. Which makes me sad, especially in a pandemic.

Saturday Singalong: The Best Of What We Heard

A couple of caveats about this year: I don't think this was a great year for a diehard pop fan, especially given that a good number of female stars either released little (Katy Perry) or weak new product (Kylie Minogue's ill-advised orchestral rerecordings is one stark example). When a Madonna album comes and goes and almost no one remembers... well, an era has ended, if you ask me. I mean we do even remember American Life. 

Second, technology continues to change, well, everything. This year was all about YouTube and downloaded singles and, for me, the occasional thrill of finding an obscure no-name or small sensation with maybe a keyboard and some digital editing skills. Still, my torch burns brightest for straight-up pop, and this, for me, was what worked best:

Carly Rae Jepsen, Call Me Maybe. There's a thin line between having one of the all-time top singles and teeing up the ultimate Worst Song Ever, and Jepsen walked it pretty miraculously. Absurdly overplayed, way too influential in the zeitgeist... yet somehow Jepsen led the way with the brightest piece of ear candy in years. Maybe it's "ripped jeans, skin was showing", maybe it's the emphatic ambivalence of the title, which can't even sum up the nerve to be commanding (call me... maybe?). Which of course, it is just crazy to hand your number to some stranger you've just met. It's the details, the small but true observational aspects, I suspect, that gave this song wings. And Jepsen may not be able to match it, but the 25 girls who wish they'd sung it don't have anything nearly as catchy.

Psy, Gangnam Style. What am I, dead? Of course I heard it. And couldn't turn it off. Sure it's the arresting video and the YouTube thing, but Psy's real wonder was creating a piece of noisy techno-dance that wasn't so ear insulting as to require turning it off. Catchy, danceable, and a charming lyrical mess (i have no idea what "Gangnam Style" is, but at least we know it isn't some sort of anti-American gang violence). And sure, as it filters down into the wedding reception and prom market it will be.... unfortunate. But by then, shouldn't we just put on our coats, congratulate the lucky couple, and go?

Deadmau5, The Veldt (featuring Chris James). Deadmau5 is already a superstar as a dj and remixer, so why not cross over into making the music as well? The Veldt is one of those dance songs that clears away the clutter of what came before it, a complete rethinking of the rhythm and the tone of the night. That it's also brainy and engaging (adapted from that Ray Bradbury story where kids trap their parents in a videowalled room turned into an African Veldt) isn't just a plus... it's what it lifts it to greatness.

Pink, Blow Me (One Last Kiss). Not her best, but not her worst; much of Pink's material is starting to bleed into one raucous party song where the party always about to get going (and you can stay if you're not a douchebag), contrasted with a long dark ballad in which love is like some sort of addiction. Still, she's balls-out the biggest badass on the block, still outsinging most everyone, and wittier by far. "No more sick whiskey dick" and "we've had a shit day" do count for cutting through the clutter of niceness that tends to prevade pop these days. But perhaps a change-up of some sort, next time...?

Fun., Some Nights. I still think "We Are Young" is something of a disaster, but not for want of trying: the verses of that song are surprisingly thoughtful. But Some Nights is proof that Fun. can do it right and do it well. Maybe it's the creamy Queen-level harmonies, the foursquare marching band rhythm (Tusk?), but for me, it's the sobering, questioning stance of the soaring lyric. "Who the fuck wants to die alone?" Not me. And when I look into my nephews eyes... some of the most amazing things can come from some terrible lives. Gets me every time.

Austin Mahone, Say Something. Keep your Bieber. I'll keep looking.

One Direction, Live While We're Young. Last year, they were teens for the tween set, asking you to believe for yourself what they saw in you. Now it's all one night stands and easy sex... or did no one actually listen to the lyrics of this even catchier ear candy? ""I know we only met but let's pretend it's love... tonight let's get some, and live while we're young." Indeed.

The Ready Sets, Give Me Your Hand (Best Song Ever). Like I said this time last year, I find myself drawn to a slew of these (fairly interchangeable) po-up bands with a lot of digital skillz, peppy tunes and autotune vocoding. A song so airy and content free that it suggests - nay, insists - that some other song is actually the best ever, what I like is how well it sells this with an air of tuneful assurance. That kind of charm is missing from a lot of pop these days.

JTX, Seven Day Weekend. And not just cause he actually took the time to read my praise for him last year. This one is just a cheerful piece of party pop... but at least it's a party that actually sounds like fun.

Olly Murs, Troublemaker. Murs is another contest winner (Britain's Got Talent, I think, or some one of those) who is already enjoying a solid career in the UK, and surely can ride the coattails of 1D to the US. Not just teenboy pop, but teenboy pop that harks back to early Britney, and by extension, the career Justin Timberlake is too big to condescend to.

Bruno Mars, Locked Out of Heavan. A truly wondrous production, some sort of answer to the question of what would have happened if Michael Jackson had gone to England and recorded Beat It with Sting and Andy Summers, circa Roxanne. There may be an eighties revival, and Mars is the reason to hope it brings us more than just recycled cheese.

Maroon 5, Daylight. I've been wondering if "Overexposed" the title of their album is actually an ironic wink to their current reality, or an unwitting confirmation of their slide to selling out. I've already dissed Payphone, I can't even muster the energy to pan the pale white reggae-ish of One More Night, and then there's this. It's a lovely single, with a better soaring lyric than the others... but it's still awfully generic pop, a Chris Brown single with modest pop aspirations. And in a bad year, it's better tha most... if that's enough.

Saturday Singalong: It's Flyte Tyme

Today, I'm all about Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis:

The SOS Band, Borrowed Love. Arguably, The SOS Band was the purest vehicle for the "Flyte Tyme" sound developed by Jam and Lewis, not even so much a "sound" as a whole set of atmospherics, layered synths on top of driving, percolating beats. SOS Band had already enjoyed success with Take Your Time (Do It Right), but the three albums concocted with Jam and Lewis set a new standard, especially on the expansive side ones of each one, the first which featured Just The Way You Like It, and the second, Sands of Time, which featured Borrowed Love. Borrowed Love percolates sharply, whie reveling in the jazzy, slightly mournful lyric sung by Mary Davis, one of the great, undersung lead singers in modern R&B. This song, and much of the Flyte Tyme collaborations came to define "Quiet Storm" radio in the mid to late eighties, a late night jam of torchy ballads, smooth jazz, and acts like SOS Band and Loos Ends who kind of defied easy descriptions. Also, Borrowed Love shows the Flyte Tyme magic with a particular sub genre of Other Woman songs, the Love on the Side story.

Janet Jackson, Love Will Never Do Without You. Jackson's whole rebirth as an eighties pop icon is all about Jam and Lewis, who produced the 4 pivotal albums that define the backbone of her hits (Design of a Decade wraps the story up in a bow). Jackson, of course, ebenfitted mightily from their carefully controlled approach to sound production, and they make some of the best use of what might otherwise be dismissed as a thin, breathy approach to singing, making her into a latter day Diana Ross. The kitchen sink, extended length (in the album version) opus of Love Will Never Do is a big case in point: layered synths, layered vocals, and a propulsive rhythm track tend to mask the almost childlike vocals from Janet, giving the song an almost unearned maturity and depth. But it really, really works.

Herb Alpert, Keep Your Eye On Me. Jam and Lewis were so succesful at turning Jackson into a star for A&M records that it really did seem natural that the label's founder, Alpert (the "A" in A&M), would collaborate with them on a career reviving album. Alpert's role as a sixties star trumpeter who captured pop success was ancient history, but the jazzy revisionist approach to his classic sound was beyond refreshing; it was audacious and daring. Who knew he had it in him? And who, at that point, knew Jam and Lewis were that capable of an artistic leap?

Human League, Human. Turning the top English synth act of the eighties into the next SOS Band may seem easy and derivative, but the collaboration did work wonders for both sides: The League never had quite such an accessible hit, and the track is simply, sheerly gorgeous. The cascading synths of the open, the plaintive lyric (yet another "sorry for my love on the side" message), are indeed a compelling mix of man and machine. Just because it looks easy, doesn't make it so.

Cherrelle, Affair. Cherrelle's career was also built on Jam and Lewis and their effective presentation of Cherrelle as a lusty woman willing to cheat ("Saturday Love", "Everything I MIss At Home", "You Look Good To Me", just for starters). Affair's forthright lyrics - "I don't need commitment, I don't need a man to tell me how to feel" - spoke to a frankness in the sexuality of independent urban women that was impossible to deny.

Johnny Gill, Rub You The Right Way. I was reminded of the primacy of Jam and Lewis and their work when this track showed up on my Sirius XM "Nineties on Nine" station ("Eighties on Eight" is also pretty awesome). Gill never was the biggest R&B star, but this track is a showstopper, from its explosive opening (a shouted "Pump Up the Bass!" followed by a signature Jam/Lewis zig zag of synths) to its sexy close ("your every wish is my command"). Your average song about a sexy massage would seem pretty silly. Not this one. 

Boyz II Men, 4 Seasons of Loneliness. Any of a number of their ballads would make the point, but I like the old fashioned, even gimmicky appraoch to a "4 seasons" song, subverted by BIIM's jazzy inventiveness in layered harmonies, and the Flyte Tyme magic in a sound curtain. The instrumentation is barely noticeable; it's the singing that really does the work, but even that is treated as a multilayered instrument in the Jam/Lewis mix, which gently softens what could be an overwrought lyric - "This loneliness has crushed my heart" - into a gentle, plaintive testament to love and loss.

Saturday Singalong: Hep Cats And Gossip Girls

...and I was accused today of being too attached to old, classic looking clothes, too:

Ella Fitzgerald - Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone. This is a fairly rare track, compiled as part of a collection for my coffee house job, and one of my favorites, because it's such a great opener - for an album, a concert, or a mix tape. I particularly like when usual ballads from the "singer/songwriter" era are given spiky, peppy arrangements. I had a friend who pointed out that Ella had a tendency to "sleepwalk" through drowsy arrangements; this one has none of that, giving a real sharpness to her attack. By the end, you will do exactly as she asks.

Lena Horne - Do Nothing Til You Hear From Me. Horne's career was all about a series of reinventions, including her late life transformation into the great jazz interpreter she was always meant to be. This is from one of her last albums, inspired in part by her friend Billy Strayhorn, who helped shape her singing. The remarkable thing isn't just that she's in amazing voice, it's the incredibly light, playful, downright sexy way she plays with the lyric. She weaves the spell so seamlessly that you can almost miss the "...and you never will" she appends to the title lyric. She's that convincing.

Nat King Cole - I'm Gonna Sit Right Down And Write Myself A Letter. One of my favorite, and wisest, album purchases is this collection of Cole's work with Billy May, one of the greatest arrangers of all time. May was instrumental in creating the fifties-era jazz style of slamming, chatty horn arrangements, which require some similarly strong singing. The apex of this may well be May's work with Sinatra, but Cole's arguably the better singer. The way he crashes into the final "make believe it came, make believe it came... frooom yoooou" is amazing. 

Sammy Davis, Jr. - That Old Black Magic. I tend to think that time has not been kind enough to Sammy Davis, practically the Michael Jackson of his era, a star from the time he was small, and one of the most natural performers and entertainers ever. Something about "Candyman" and "Mr. Bojangles" and his later apearancs in the seventies overwhelms the crucial role he played defining the sound of sixties jazz-pop and set the standard in most ways for a Vegas performer. This track is but one easy example, pure performance magic with some of the most amazing singing attached. And his final "under that old black magic called love" and the way he jumps high-to-low and back again on "called" is indeed magical.

Frank Sinatra - Luck Be A Lady. The remarkable thing about Sinatra, or one of many, is the span of his career. Just when you think his voice is finally giving out, he pulled yet another amazing trick: think "New York New York" in 1977 or even "Teach Me Tonight" in 1982. Luck Be A Lady was an amazing track when it premiered in Guys and Dolls, and when it entered the American songbook. But Sinatra recorded it fairly late in his career, at the height of his powers as a Vegas headliner, and his version drips with the late sixties, early seventies rhythm track of High Vegas. But it's his vocal attack that's just breathtaking; he's aging, there's definitely smoke in his chords, it's almost flat in spots, but how he soars on the peaks! Stick with me baby... I'm the fella you came in with. You can just see the chorus girls with the feathers all around him.

Frank and/or Sammy and/or Lena - The Lady Is A Tramp. This is less about the singer, and more about the song - "She gets too hungry to wait for dinner at eight" is about the best opening ever, a clear definition of a person and a lifestyle choice in a sentence. Frank's version is classic, Sammy's is all sass and the tightrope between black and white in the era of integration ("she likes the free fresh... wind in her wig."), Lena's is all about reclaiming your power and finding yourself - "That's why this here lady - is a tramp." Indeed.