We’ve now reached the peak of this tall mountain. The final 10 songs on our 50 Best Songs of the Decade So Far list is upon us. These songs are all modern classics, and have defined the decade’s music thus far. Years from now, music lovers will think of many songs when they look back upon this era, but these ten are especially likely to come to mind. It’ll be interesting to see if, at the end of the decade, they are still held in such high regard, but for now, these songs have impressed us, as well as hundreds of thousands of other listeners, more than the rest of the music we’ve heard so far this decade.

In addition to our Top 10, we’ve included a section at the bottom we call Passionate Orphans. Songs that are personal favorites and worthy of respect, but that we couldn’t fit and couldn’t leave unmentioned.

Enjoy the list and our accompanying Spotify playlist, including one conveniently containing all 50 songs. Be on the look out for our Best Albums of the Decade So Far list in the coming weeks!

Best 50 Songs Of The Decade So Far
(#10 – #1)

Kanye West – “New Slaves”

Kanye West has been the king of rap for quite some time—almost single handedly reshaping the face of the genre, with both his productions and collaborations. When Yeezus was released upon the world in 2013 it wasn’t tracks like “I Am a God” that surprised the most, it was “Black Skinhead” and “New Slaves,” a pair of superheated songs with aggression so evocative and raw it was a new high, even for Kanye. The stand out, though, is obviously “New Slaves,” a bouncy and lyrically-acrobatic shoulder to the chest that fits perfectly into West’s continual progression at the frontlines of hip hop. Kanye has never been afraid to tone things down, but here the composition is utterly stark, with only a distant thunder of bass, leaving the highly confrontational and politically assertive lyrics to take center stage. The only problem? If West keeps hitting homers like this, he might just deserve that ego. [Gary]

Tame Impala – “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards”

If psychedelic pop perfection were captured in a three-minute bubble, it might sound like this. John Lennon would smile widely if he were around to hear “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards,” or maybe, on the other hand, he would sue for copyright infringement; no one since The Beatles has sounded this much like them. But Kevin Parker isn’t merely copying drug-era Beatles here; rather, he’s taking its best qualities (so, almost all its qualities) and condensing them into a crystalline, gorgeous, infectious pop anthem. “Every part of me says go ahead,” Parker’s falsetto states as it glides over sheets of swirling synths, bubbling psychedelia, and a bass line that never quits. Going ahead is exactly what “Feels” excels in: as this song progresses, it becomes more and more infectious, each subsequent chorus increasing substantially in emotional impact. The key is that the first chorus is already wildly hooky; that the song manages to deliver this statement with more success time and time again is absolutely dizzying. [Max]

M.I.A – “Bad Girls”

No one else has quite brought world music influences to pop prominence like musical wunderkind M.I.A. The multi- talented artist Maya “M.I.A.” Arulpragasam has been a boundary breaking badass for quite some time, skyrocketing to prominence with 2008’s decade-encapsulating track “Paper Planes”—a song everyone knows and hardly anyone knows the lyrics to.

So while she never really went away, M.I.A. came back swinging in 2012 with another genre crushing song. “Bad Girls” is a natural fit in the progressive catalog for the international artist; a song designed perfectly for the time and filling a void that the world hadn’t even known was empty. Not only that, but beneath the glossy, bass packed surface, “Bad Girls” is shockingly empowering, its lyrics loud and clear here, “Live fast, die young, bad girls do it well.” It’s only a matter of time before “Bad Girls” becomes the genre-defining track that it deserves to be. [Gary]

LCD Soundsystem – “Dance Yrself Clean”

How in the world do you compose something so intimate and epic into a 8+ minute track that could never, ever, wear out its welcome? I’ve got no idea, but the recently disbanded LCD Soundsystem sure as hell did. James Murphy and his bandmates kicked off their ultimate album, This Is Happening, with this 8-minute dance-punk cacophonous hybrid that almost sounds like it attempts to exorcise every dancing demon out of the listener’s body. Of course, while Murphy’s vocals and humorous lyrics (“Talking like a jerk/Except you are an actual jerk/And living proof/That sometimes friends are mean”) align perfectly with the production’s primal drum patting, it’s really that moment at 1:40, when the little electronic melody crashes the party in the most beguiling of ways, when “Dance Yrself Clean” triumphantly shimmies its way into the decade’s top-shelf songs. And it goes up (and loud) from there. By the 3 minute mark, the song is unleashed into a dance delirium, and if you’ve done the mistake of increasing the volume on your headphones before, LCD Soundsystem makes you pay for it. In the best way possible. [Nik]

Crystal Castles – “Not in Love (feat. Robert Smith)”

How do you make your song better? Throw Robert Smith on it, of course. Crystal Castles originally covered this Platinum Blondes song on their second self-titled album, with the vocals distorted and warbled to the point of being barely discernible. When they released it as a single, someone had the brilliant idea of letting Robert Smith sing on the track, and the results speak for themselves. Putting Smith on the song is an inspired choice, considering how influential his work has been on bands like Crystal Castles. So naturally his voice fits like a glove, with his mournful vocals elevating the song into another dimension. “Not in Love” goes to show that great songs can sometimes be improved upon in the most surprising of ways. [C.J.]

Beach House – “Myth”

If you were to ask me who the standout musicians of the decade are, so far, my answer would come without so much as a blink of an eye: Beach House. Baltimore duo Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally have been around since the mid aughts, but with Teen Dream in 2010, followed by Bloom in 2012, Beach House redefined the boundaries of dream pop, and reinvigorated my love for the genre. Their first single from Bloom, “Myth,” is as good example as any of the kind of deep, oceanic, emotions the duo successfully reach, in tremendously moving fashion. There’s no other band out there, with the range of Legrand’s voice, and the knack for Scally’s unquenchable melodies, that could make verses like “Found yourself in a new direction/Arrows falling from the sun/Canyon calling would come to greet you/Let you know you’re not the only one” sound like they’re speaking directly to we the listeners. When Legrand sings it, the feeling of loneliness dissipates, because we feel it right down to our marrow. And isn’t that what it’s all about? [Nik]

Grimes – “Oblivion”

Did you know that indie electronic’s club anthem of the decade so far is actually a song about recovering from the trauma of sexual assault? With a groove this thick and steady, “Oblivion” at first masks its important, poignant message. Initial listens of this song entrap willing ears with demonically robotic synths, mechanical percussion, a horrifyingly eerie ambience, and uneasy, fairy-like vocals courtesy of Claire Boucher, the woman behind Grimes. Later listens allow Boucher’s words to crystallize: “Coming up behind you/always coming and you’d never have a clue”, sung hauntingly in the first verse, indicates that “I see you on a dark night”, during the chorus, is directed at a shadowy figure following her home; “When you’re running by yourself/it’s hard to find someone to hold your hand” is likewise completely unromantic, instead detailing the hell of keeping oneself safe from such a figure. The tense situation Boucher describes explodes into catharsis with one minute and forty-five seconds left in the song, when the synths begin to sound like they too are speaking words. If even the instrumentation is trying to say something, there’s no doubting that the message is important. That it’s delivered with arguably the most incessantly replayable synthscape of the decade is just a perk. [Max]

Vampire Weekend – “Hannah Hunt”

The most chilling track on Vampire Weekend’s 2013 album “Modern Vampires of the City,” “Hannah Hunt” is a hushed (until the end) breakup song that stretches from the freezing beaches of the East coast to the shores of Santa Barbara. Ezra Koenig all but whispers the lyrics throughout the sleepy, sparse first two minutes of the track, as if he’s singing with eyes half-closed. Then, the percussion swells and his voice leaps up an octave, shrieking, “if I can’t trust you then damn it, Hannah / there’s no future there’s no answer.” This is Vampire Weekend at their most confident and polished, embracing minimalist presentation and asymmetrical structure while honoring their African music inspirations and keeping up that geographical predilection they just can’t let go of. [Bernard]

Azealia Banks – “212”

Hip-hop has been maligned time after time for containing excessive profanity, so when even the world’s foremost rap critics and listeners were taken aback with the amount of explicit material in “212,” Azealia Banks’ debut single, everyone paid attention. Banks absolutely owns the word “cunt” on this song, whether reclaiming it as a neutral term (“I guess that cunt getting eaten”) or stabbing her opponents with it (“Imma ruin you, cunt”). “Cunt” isn’t the only thing she takes control of, though; she also commands the entirety of Lazy Jay’s “Float My Boat,” a house track created with absolutely no intention for Banks to use it without permission. Hell, Lazy Jay probably had no idea who Banks was when he first heard that a self-described “rude bitch” from Harlem ripped his song, but it all worked out in the end: yep, “212” sounds so great that he got on board, and is now credited on the song. Maybe that’s because Banks not only sings, raps, and screams on “212,” but she does each at the exact moment in the song where it fits best. “This shit been mine!” Banks proclaims during the chorus, but she doesn’t have to say it: this song proves it beyond all doubt. [Max]

FKA twigs – “Two Weeks”

“Two Weeks” was Way Too Indie’s favorite song of 2014, and it remains at the top when we look at the decade in music so far. Really, though, how could it not? This song is nothing short of majestic, an accumulation of everything that trip-hop, R&B, and electronic music have all striven towards this decade. The crystalline synth oscillations and pulsating, deep percussion outline trip-hop’s noblest goals; FKA twigs’ celestial vocal vibratos outdo those of most of her many peers; the song’s overwhelming digital sheen demarcates one of electronic music’s foremost objectives. Then there are the lyrics; in addition to the great sonic template, here we have maybe the strongest example of a woman owning her sexuality and not letting society’s double standard silence her desires. “I can fuck you so much better,” twigs seethes towards an object of desire; “give me two weeks, you won’t recognize her” is an even more sensual threat, one for which twigs reaches towards some of the higher parts of her register. But she saves the highest section for the line “my thighs are apart for when you’re ready to breathe in,” putting everyone on alert, just as a good song should do. We already knew that sex sells, but “Two Weeks” teaches us that owning it is different than buying it. [Max]

Listen to These Songs on Spotify

CJ’s Passionate Orphans (Twins!)

Low – “Nothing But Heart”
Nadia Oh – “Taking Over the Dancefloor”
I couldn’t even begin to count how many songs I tried to fit on this list, so reducing things down to a few passionate picks is even tougher for me. But one song I knew would crush me if it didn’t make it on the list was Low’s “Nothing But Heart.” It’s an eight-minute epic that only has three lines before Alan Sparhawk repeats the line “I’m nothing but heart” a couple dozen times. Sure, it sounds boring, but it’s an achingly beautiful song that builds and builds until it soars. By the end, you’ll want to join in and yell “I’m nothing but heart” along with the band.

Saying that, let me awkwardly segue into my next pick: Nadia Oh’s “Taking Over the Dancefloor.” I don’t have a lot of words left, so let me be blunt: Nadia Oh deserves to be a massive pop star. Her music is like a weird version of pop from an alternate universe, a completely bonkers bastardization of current pop trends that turns into something wholly singular. Just trust me on this one.

Max’s Passionate Orphan

Cloud Nothings – “Wasted Days”
​It’s one thing to recast your lo-fi bedroom pop act as a doom-bearing noise punk project; it’s another to place a nine-minute anthem of angst, dissonance, and dejection as the second of eight tracks on the album marking this unexpected transition. “Wasted Days” actually wastes no time at all; each and every one of this song’s sprawling 494 seconds makes listeners fully inhabit songwriter, guitarist, and vocalist Dylan Baldi’s terror. The cutting chords and slow drum build of its brief intro give way to a lacerating, whipping verse lined with Baldi’s nasal, howling vocals and defeated, exhausted lyrics. “I thought/I would/be more/than this,” goes this song’s straightforwardly anthemic chorus, which Baldi whines its first two times.

This already visceral approach becomes even more gut-wrenching and undeniable during the five-minute noise breakdown separating the second chorus from the third. Just before this final chorus arrives, there’s a bit of a crescendo, over which Baldi transitions from muttering his chorus to absolutely screaming it. In this ultimate moment, Baldi achieves a catharsis unlike any previously heard in noise rock, as will any and all listeners brave and strong enough to endure this incredible song’s hurricane-like nine minutes.

Nik’s Passionate Orphans (Twins!)

Sharon Van Etten – “Your Love Is Killing Me”
Father John Misty – “Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings”
Sharon Van Etten has been around smokey underground bars since her album debut in 2009. Slowly but surely, through wondrously introspective and heart-aching songs like “Love More” (from 2010) and “I’m Wrong” (from 2012’s Tramp), she rose through indie folk ranks, and captured hearts with her whispery, sonorous, voice. “Your Love Is Killing Me” from her latest, Are We There, solidifies her status as one of the greatest women armed with a guitar. Naturally it helps that she’s reached a point where she has major studio access because this single is as big room in its absurdly effective chorus, as it is intimate in its quavering, soul-searching, verses. The way she lingers on the repeated “you” in the second verse, before “Stabs my eyes so I can see” ascends to a magnificent melody perfectly tuned to Van Etten’s matchless voice, makes “Your Love Is Killing Me” one of her greatest accomplishments. Here’s a song about painful love that has no substitutes.

Joining Van Etten in my orphanage is Father John Misty’s “Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings.” In 2012 J. Tillman released the album Fear Fun under his self-appointed alter ego Father John Misty, after a shroom-stocked road trip. While the whole album is recommended, there’s no song as hypnotic, instantly memorable, and gratifying right down to the core as the psychoactively titled “Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings.” The lyrics invite you into an enticing world of psychedelic indie rock, and with lines like “‘Cause the marble made my cheeks look pink/But I’m unsure of so many things” we see the effects Tillman’s mushroom trip had on his creativity. From its beginning, he sings “Jesus Christ” like no one else I’ve ever heard, to its end, when he implores someone “to help me dig,” the song is a gloriously abstract journey I love to repeat over and over. Bonus points for casting Aubrey Plaza in the song’s official video; perhaps the greatest music video casting of all time. Yeah, I said it.

See the rest of our Best Songs Of The Decade lists!

View Other Lists of this Feature:
Best 50 Songs of the Decade So Far (#50 – #41)
Best 50 Songs of the Decade So Far (#40 – #31)
Best 50 Songs of the Decade So Far (#30 – #21)
Best 50 Songs of the Decade So Far (#20 – #11)

The 2010’s will be known as the first full decade in which music survived its Internet age. In 2000, services like Napster and Limewire planted the seeds for peer-to-peer sharing, but millions of songs weren’t yet a mere click away; this decade, however, Spotify has come to fruition, YouTube has blossomed into an everyday force, pre-release album streams are omnipresent, and the Internet blog community is constantly hitting refresh. “Plugged in” has an entirely different meaning now that the Internet acts as a global amp, making it impossible to feel disconnected—whether by streaming, downloading, or reading about music, it’s all a click away.

Even though it’s far easier to discover new music in this era, year-end and decade-so-far lists tend to canonize the same set of albums and songs. Way Too Indie is guilty of writing about some of the same songs that everyone else is, but we also showcase a few welcome surprises with this list of our Top 50 Songs of 2010–2014. We’ll be rolling the list out ten songs at a time, ten for each weekday, starting today with songs 50–41. Let this list guide you on your refresher course in 2010’s music history.

Best 50 Songs Of The Decade So Far
(#50-#41)

Taylor Swift – “Blank Space”

If “Shake It Off” is Taylor Swift’s giddy, playful middle finger to her haters, then “Blank Space” is the cooler, smarter version of the same thing (full disclosure: “Shake It Off” is also great). The song has Swift facing her detractors head-on, playing up the image of herself as some sort of psychotic girlfriend going through boys like bubble gum. But Swift brilliantly counters those attacks by putting the ball in the other half’s court with lines like “Cause you know I love the players/And you love the game” or “Boys only want love if it’s torture.” And, like most of 1989, Swift puts this all in an insanely catchy package, blending the song’s electronic and acoustic elements to make 2014’s catchiest chorus. It’s a song that has Swift acknowledging criticisms thrown her way and responding with a resounding “So what?” It’s what great artists do, and if you weren’t already convinced Swift deserves every bit of her success, “Blank Space” should change your mind. [C.J.]

Frank Ocean – “Pyramids”

Traversing from bass-thick synth fare to an ultimate club track to a tender soul ballad ending with a John Mayer guitar solo is possible in this decade. In fact, it sounds incredible when soul experimentalist Frank Ocean pulls it off. “Pyramids” is ten minutes of self-indulgent bliss with risk after risk paying off. Through this song’s transition from R&B banger to intimate, woozy electrosoul, Ocean weaves the best possible tale of ancient Egyptian pharaoh Cleopatra as a modern day stripper, matching his story’s wild, exaggerated nature with a song structure and genre defiance just as uninhibited. Whether you’re grooving along or transfixed in the slower sections, Ocean will have you headed to the pyramid tonight. [Max]

Rihanna – “Diamonds”

Allow me to indulge a little about “Diamonds” by bringing up a scene from Celine Sciamma’s film Girlhood (forgive me, I’m used to writing about films after all). In the scene, the main character Marieme watches her new friends lip sync and dance to Rihanna’s song before joining in herself. It’s an amazing sequence, already one of the highlights of 2015, and it shows why the song is so powerful. While Rihanna’s vocals soar over Benny Blanco and StarGate’s pulsating synths and thumping percussion, the refrain of “Shine bright like a diamond” transforms from a summary of true love to a proud declaration of happiness and independence. Rihanna has put out a massive amount of bangers and club ready singles over the years, but it’s this mid-tempo ballad shows her at the top of her game. [C.J.]

Beyonce – “***Flawless”

Back in 2000, Beyoncé was singing with Destiny’s Child about how awesome it is for women to buy their own things. Now it’s fifteen years later, and Beyoncé doesn’t give a fuck what you think. When Beyoncé released her latest album out of nowhere, furiously reclaiming her spot at the top of pretty much everything, “Flawless” was a clear standout. What other artist as popular as Beyoncé is making anything as abrasive and strange as this song right now? Who else has the balls to throw a lecture on feminism in the middle of their song, or bookend it with clips of herself losing on Star Search (a brilliant flip side to the song’s braggadocio)? This is Beyoncé taking her place at number one and using it to do whatever she wants, take it or leave it. Only Beyoncé can order people to bow down and actually make them want to do it. [C.J.]

Ciara – “I’m Out (ft. Nicki Minaj)”

Ciara was an artist begging for a comeback, and “I’m Out”—the opening track on her self-titled album—immediately quashed any fears of her latest album being a disappointment. With the help of Nicki Minaj, whose opening verse is yet another reminder of why she’s one of the most talented rappers out there right now, Ciara provides a fun blast of pure ego. It’s a defiant break-up song, filled with tons of swagger and a beat that makes it impossible to stay still. People may point to “Body Party” as Ciara’s true highlight, but I always prefer to put “I’m Out” on repeat instead. And one more thing: can we get more collaborations between Nicki Minaj and Ciara, please? These two are perfect together. [C.J.]

Solange – “Losing You”

After years of struggling to get out of her sister’s shadow, Solange Knowles finally stepped out on her own with “Losing You.” Back in 2012, Solange and Dev Hynes (known by most people as Blood Orange) provided a breath of fresh air from the pop and R&B landscape with this song. Its cool, sun-kissed style and groove was the perfect antidote to the barrage of dance floor ready tracks coming out at the time (who am I kidding? They’re still coming out). And Hynes’ production is a perfect blend of a throwback style with completely new and refreshing sound. It’s hard to believe that Solange still hasn’t come out with a new album yet, but if “Losing You” is a sign of what’s to come, it’ll be well worth the wait. [C.J.]

Neko Case – “Man”

I’ve been a Case fan since her 2009 album Middle Cyclone tornadoed its way into my heart. It took her some time to come back in 2013 with The Worse It Gets, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You, but she came back with the same firepower under her belly, this time ignited by a more introspective and personal approach. Her single, “Man,” is a raucously energetic folk-country crossbreed that commands your body to move, supported by Case’s signature vocal prowess, and stands out from the rest of the mellower selection with good purpose. With help from M. Ward lacing the production with his guitar skills, “Man” is everything that makes Neko Case a musical treasure: poetic, insightful, with 0% artificiality and 100% success rate at hitting targets with perfectly calibrated F-bombs. She’s a feminist who doesn’t need the support of a label in order to create a statement that shames most other self-appointed “feminists” in the game. “And if I’m dipshit drunk on the pink perfume /I am the man in the fucking moon/’Cause you didn’t know what a man was/Until I showed you.” Damn. She’s not a man, she’s a singing-songwriting beast. [Nik]

FKA twigs – “Pendulum”

Only someone who’s cultivated an aesthetic as mysterious, cunning, and faintly erotic as FKA twigs could make the statement “I’m your sweet little love maker” sound daunting. In fact, all of “Pendulum”, the song from which this lyric is taken, lurches forward quite unsettlingly. But that’s because a lack of reciprocation is a pretty terrible feeling, one that this song’s jarringly arrhythmic percussion and reversed piano loops capture chillingly. For its first three minutes, the former element dominates the soundscape, but when the focus flips to the latter, the building tension of twigs’ loneliness begins to release. It all comes rushing forward with a minute and fifteen seconds left in the song, when twigs beckons, “How does it feel to have me thinking about you?” as a brief near-silence gives way to a rush of bass and piano. Forget being lonely; a song this emotionally resonant unites everyone. [Max]

Future Islands – “Seasons (Waiting on You)”

Synthpopping trio Gerrit Welmers, William Cashion, and Samuel Herring are Future Islands, and while they’ve had critical success with their previous albums (they’ve been Pitchfork darlings for a while), it’s their 2014 record Singles that shoved them into the brightest limelight they’ve experienced yet. And I’m willing to bet good money that most of it is because of the fantastic album opener, “Seasons (Waiting On You),” which made topping song lists look like the most objective thing in the world in 2014. Don’t get me wrong, the album as a whole is excellent, but when ‘Seasons” refrain kicks in with “As it breaks, the summer will wake/But the winter will wash what is left of the taste” your earbuds are suddenly swept under a crushingly glorious New Wave. The song drowns you with everything that makes Herring’s vocals and lyrics, Welmers’ keyboards, and Cashion’s bass such perfect musical companions, and something inside you whispers; “this is the one.” [Nik]

Jai Paul – “Jasmine”

With just two songs, Jai Paul managed to change the entire landscape of 2010s R&B. Sure, electrosoul existed before Paul’s first single, “BTSTU,” appeared out of nowhere in 2011, but by the time “Jasmine” arrived a year later, the genre’s revolution was well underway. Paul’s watery, disorienting production, drone-like, lurching synths, and whispery, silk-soft vocals on “Jasmine” builds a skyscraper on top of the foundation “BTSTU” had laid. Combining the latter track’s all-against-the-walls percussion with the smooth dreaminess of “Jasmine,” electrosoul artists as diverse as Raffertie, Tropics, and maybe even Paul’s cousin Miguel took cues that formed the next many years of electrosoul. If you can’t vibe with “Jasmine” for whatever odd reason, at least appreciate the massive influence its mysterious creator, who has yet to officially release a song since “Jasmine”, has had on his genre in just two songs. [Max]

Listen to These Songs on Spotify

See the rest of our Best Songs Of The Decade lists!

View Other Lists of this Feature:
Best 50 Songs of the Decade So Far (#40 – #31)
Best 50 Songs of the Decade So Far (#30 – #21)
Best 50 Songs of the Decade So Far (#20 – #11)
Best 50 Songs of the Decade So Far (#10 – #1)

In a year filled with world politics and tragedies, it’s only fitting triumph was a common theme found in music during 2014. For every senseless crime, there was a gratifying album in direct response to it. Those seeking self-love and acceptance found comfort in the arms of Perfume Genius and Jack White. Those looking for poignant social commentary discovered it through the words of Run The Jewels. Moreover, those who yearned for isolation found solace in Angel Olsen’s latest album. In between all of that were three career defining releases from St. Vincent, The War on Drugs, and FKA Twigs. Our list highlights 20 albums that are all pleasing distractions during this time of uncertainty.

Way Too Indie’s Best Albums of 2014

#20 Ty Segall – Manipulator

Manipulator is a wormhole consisting of atoms that are charged from the past and atoms reinterpreted for the present. Manipulator is a murky mix that only a producing maniac like Ty Segall could release. Ty has a deep discography that would take weeks to dissect, yet he is only 26. If Jack White is the hardest working man in rock music, then Ty must be his crazy stepbrother. This isn’t your father’s rock and roll or the 90’s Nirvana off shoot band your brother started in high school. Manipulator is a fast, grimy, blazing sound that embodies everything Ty has been working towards. This album truly sounds like an artist who cannot foresee not putting out his creations. Vacuumed in an airtight room, the album kicks off with the title track. It rides under an overcast and fuzzy sky of its influences where the drums, guitars, and Ty all squeal.

This album is a cornucopia that has been reshaped with sounds spanning different genres. At the same time, Manipulator also feels personal. “The Clock” tackles the burning desire of an artist who sees time as a small window for creativity and output; “The Singer” is a tale of how fans sometimes fail to appreciate the showmanship of art because they always want more. The theatrical highlights include “Tall Man Skinny Lady” and “It’s Over.” Manipulator floats on a hazy comfortable horizon. It delivers some truths and mounts Ty as the brightest student from the rock and roll school of thought. [Sami]

#19 Alex G – DSU

DSU is a strong poetic beauty. Alex G humanizes various tidal waves of emotions in a category that manages to leap outside the boundaries of dream pop and lo-fi. Sharp and short whimsical flavors structure this full-length, as Alex sounds about as wise as your father. It’s refreshing to encounter a project from a youthful songwriter who writes in a succinct and ageless voice. The lyrics are surrounded by familiar sounds that contain their own quirks and riffs. Alex G is a serious songwriter; his sound is vibrant with or without its influencers. DSU feels sensible, but a closer look reveals an adolescent façade. It’s a lush garden of prosperous lyrical landscapes. The dream-chasing “Harvey” is an ornament for anyone working towards something special. Even with a short life span, “Harvey” manages to induct pleasant-sounding grooves and proves to be Alex G at his best.

There are many other standouts. “Promise” is an eclectic mix of funky drowning sounds lost in a dreamland. The dense drums intersect to produce a sweet aural hallucination. Dazzling instrumentals also create a nice contrast to the dim lyrics of “Hollow”, where Alex kicks this track into a smooth four minutes. In just this short time, the ambiance goes from a grunge essence to something trance and then to something tame. “Boy” is a gem. “I am not the boy you knew”, Alex vows in this coming of age song. It’s quaint and ends with a grand piano. From the deeply emotive “Sorry” to the last track “Boy”, much of what Alex G accomplishes creates a desire for his next move. [Sami]

#18 White Lung – Deep Fantasy

There are EPs longer than this album, yet here it is on the list. Deep Fantasy is actually pretty shallow in terms of its lengths; where the depth appears is in the low-pitch, rapid guitars, militant percussion, devilish shrieking, and harrowing lyricism. Guitarist Kenneth William hits virtually every guitar note possible throughout this album, Anne-Marie Vassiliou storms the field with her steadfast drumming, and vocalist Mish Way ignites the fire burning in front of these songs. Her lyrics, which balance the personal and the political, provide the true fuel for the flames: check the eating disorder study “Snake Jaw” and the ailing sexual assault victim anthem “I Believe You” for proof. The latter track is a pretty succinct summary of Deep Fantasy’s unique flicker: listen to the passion with which Way consoles her friend that, despite the constant social and institutional tendency to doubt or dismiss rape claims, she wholly trusts her friend and encourages her to stay strong and fight for justice. The assertiveness of this stance is brashly echoed by her band’s hyperactive, harsh punk and her searing beckon, a combination that pervades this 22-minute Fantasy. [Max]

#17 MØ – No Mythologies to Follow

Possessing pop versatility is a true art that took MØ only one album to achieve. No Mythologies to Follow is a cohesive, ironic blend with a touch of mainstream sensibilities. MØ translates to virgin or maiden in Danish, but this album never alludes to its freshman status. At her very best, MØ’s formula for success is undressed and unedited. Many layers of synths, vibrant bass, thick, clashing drums, and the sweet influences of electronic music fuse neatly. There’s a satisfying mixture of accessible sounds combined with her own independent quirks. “Glass” doesn’t play coy and quickly drops the line, “Oh dear one turn the lights off/So our horny souls can have some private time.” It’s a whirlwind of pleasing tones mixed with tempting drums and disdained lyrics about growing older. Most songs are a heavy packet filled with a very zealous workload. That’s not such a bad thing when she creates tracks like “Maiden” that have waves of surging synths that transport listeners with her delicate and mystical voice. “Pilgrim” features running horns coated against clunky and infectious claps. No Mythologies to Follow is a welcomed aggregation of sounds that positions MØ towards pop star status. [Sami]

#16 TEEN – The Way and Color

“It’s so not personal” is the first phrase heard in TEEN’s “Not for Long”, the second track from their sophomore album The Way and Color. The irony here is that, well, the songs here are pretty damn personal. “Sticky”, for example, contemplates the spectrum of consequences that accompany an abortion; “Breathe Low and Deep” portrays a defeated narrator doing her best to cope. The weight of these stories might explain the major leap in songwriting from TEEN’s past work too. The same band once hauntingly distant from listeners on their debut now engage the ears with excellent vocal harmonies, flowing melodies, ominous psychedelia, and dreamy ambience. Whether via a groovy, uptempo escapade like “Tied Up Tied Down” or a more introspective stance as on “More Than I Ask For”, TEEN’s new compositional advancements consistently result in entrapping, gorgeous, afflicting psych pop. And all of this is obvious even before catching them in concert, a tremendous live show which seems to have gone overlooked by the community at large. At this rate, though, not for long. [Max]

#15 Real Estate – Atlas

There’s nothing idyllic to see here. Atlas is not a roadmap towards sunny waters. This album is a chamber of deep isolation that is thoughtfully constructed. At every corner, it is constantly reaching out for answers, as seen through relatable human emotions. Soft and clean guitars are still present as the band hands out a chronological guide. It’s easy to view this collection of songs as a series of inevitable events. It’s simple and timeless as Real Estate ventures to the past. The guitars and drums are so soft that they feel like a warm blanket of pillows. When they sing about going back to an unrecognizable hometown years later, you feel it. When they sing about a long distance relationship, you understand it. There’s a sad and poignant moment on the record where lead singer Martin Courtney, wonders if his words are resonating with whoever he is speaking to. “And I might as well be talking backwards/Am I making any sense to you?” he says in a melancholy voice supported by charming and sunlit instruments. Often these songs offer glimpse into the heart of someone searching for something tangible. Atlas is all encompassing journey for anyone who has ever faced an existential crisis about love or life. [Sami]

#14 Mitski – Bury Me at Make Out Creek

If this list were based purely on lyrics, Bury Me at Make Out Creek might be #1. Mitski Miyawaki wastes not a single breath, each and every word she utters as haunting and evocative as her newly intense, overwhelming instrumentals. “You’re the breeze in my Austin nights”, “I want a love that falls as fast as a body from the balcony”, “One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby”, and “I don’t smoke except for when I’m missing you/to remember your mouth, how you tasted true” are only the most startling of the countless melting turns of phrase present here. These words are often accompanied with little more than a static, fragmented wall of guitar fuzz and unsettling drum machines, yet impact with the magnitude of a musical army. On the other hand, Make Out Creek is also full of sparser moments, but these are equally powerful. The almost violent guitar punch defining the latter half of opener “Texas Reznikoff” is just as heartbreaking as the spacious, steely dirge of “I Will.” This latter track may initially seem like the one song here on which Mitski has conquered her loneliness, but it’s actually a summary of what she wishes someone would say to her. If that’s not both tremendously upsetting and eerily beautiful, as is the entirety of Make Out Creek, then nothing is. [Max]

#13 Jack White – Lazaretto

Jack White is an Etch-A-Sketch. Categories, genres, and preconceived notions don’t apply here. His first solo album, Blunderbuss, was an aggregation of fire, electricity, and passion. Naturally, we all expected Lazaretto to be the fast spitting fire ball of energy that Blunderbuss was. When the lead single “Lazaretto” first dropped, the hip hop elements synced perfectly with his electrically charged vocals. Ultimately, Lazaretto set a precedent that no two Jack White projects will ever be the same. The album was inspired by a collection of poems and short stories that were written by Jack when he was a teenager. Those poems and stories served as the source materials for each song. Unbounded by his inspirations, Jack still inhibits his usual buoyancies and daze. The solely instrumental “High Ball Stepper” is an animated and lively track that serenades until the very end. It encompasses different densities and textures as Jack sweeps around different tints and shades. Quaint bluesy qualities are featured on the song “Entitlement”, while “Temporary Ground ” feels very Nashville. Lazaretto is an interesting Jack White album because it feels very bombastic and also tamed. It is consistently inconsistent. It is a melting pot. [Sami]

#12 Caribou – Our Love

In 2010, Caribou’s best song up to that point in his career, “Odessa”, placed him as the fly on the wall of a constantly fighting couple’s bedroom. Although vocalist and songwriter Dan Snaith expressed proper sympathy towards the relationship’s victimized female, he never offered any solutions for her to escape her pitiable state. On Our Love, his first album since then, he still doesn’t seem to have any answers, but he’s now writing from a first person perspective rather than an outsider’s point of view. First track “Can’t Do Without You” bemoans Snaith’s loss of a lover rather than proposing any method to get her back, and it’s not much longer before “All I Ever Need” is simply another list of woes. No complaints, though; if these troubles are leading to songs as cosmic, smooth, and hallucinogenic as these electronic jams, then let’s hope Snaith’s problems dissipate via some external force rather than his own resolution. Our Love is overflowing with gorgeous, colorful synth work that’s as entrancing as it is mobile. The title track is simultaneously warm and danceable, and “Mars” puts some serious swing into its trippy prettiness. The influence of R&B and deep house, novel informers for Caribou, account for Snaith’s newfound ability to merge the psychedelic, the heartfelt, and the body-moving. Check penultimate track “Back Home” as the strongest example of Our Love’s brilliant approach: a slowly bubbling piece of mind-melting R&B that ascends from ghostly vibrations into head-thumping wispiness, it’s the peak of a formula that consistently entrances across Our Love’s ten whole songs. [Max]

#11 Tennis – Ritual in Repeat

Nostalgia can be a knife in the back or a prosperous recalling. Tennis’ Ritual in Repeat is a testament to the latter. This husband and wife duo formulates a more grandiose and powerful record that both emulates the past and presents their own swatches of sounds. Rather than drowning in their influences, Tennis manages to bounce from decade to decade smoothly.
The roller skate jam “I’m Callin” sounds like an early 90s Celine Dion track that got stuck at an 80s dance party. There’s a noticeable dichotomy that latches onto this album. Stripped away and running free is when Alaina Moore’s voice is most exposed and empowering. However, this record also contains tracks that evoke a singalong jam band aura. More specifically, “Needle and The Knife” easily permeates through the track list with its tightly coupled percussion and string instrumentals. Ritual in Repeat marks the creation of their own wanderlust persona. Tennis avoids circles and stigmas by delivering one of the most likable records of the year. [Sami]

#10 Run the Jewels – Run the Jewels 2

“I’m finna bang this bitch the fuck out!” says a nuclear Killer Mike. The next three minutes are the beginning of a fueling atomic bomb. Run the Jewels 2 is an action-packed, pressure-pointing push against the chest, as Killer Mike and El-P instantaneously huff audacious lines. Towering over pompous beats, the duo creates stacks and layers that have contrasting tension. RTJ2 is a bombastic social commentary with strong meaning. The kinetic energy is high as Killer Mike aggressively asks for rival gangs to unite and El-P testifies that the court system is out of order. They take you down deep and brazen tunnels with lyrical traps like “You know your favorite rapper ain’t shit/And me, I might be/The closest representation of God you might see.” RTJ2 is still a captivating, fun time. “Close Your Eyes (And Count To Fuck)” is a nuclear power plant that generates invigorating energy. There’s a sharp chemistry between the duo that doesn’t feel calculated. At times, Killer Miller sets the stage for the main action, and El-P smoothly completes the cause. RTJ2 burns your skin, injects some social topics, and delivers a great time. [Sami]

#9 Makthaverskan – II

These five young Swedes use the English language better than many native speakers do. Where many of today’s best musicians get by on poetic, extravagant lyricism, Makthaverskan instead use the most elementary of words and images to achieve emotional resonance. The cries of “Fuck you! Fuck you!” that pin down “Antabus” could easily originate from the mouth of a histrionic teenager rather than these heavy-hearted 20-something-year-olds, and the piercing despair of “I don’t know where you are tonight, but if you want I’ll take you back” that grounds the chorus of “Something More” could fit inconspicuously on a pop punk record. Rather than obfuscating their pleas with dense wordplay, Makthaverskan can afford to be this upfront since their delivery is so genuine. “It’s not me you’re dreaming of!” might sound whiny and immature in worse hands, but Maja Milner’s urgency and her band’s Goth-drenched, new wave-indebted instrumentals ensure that these words land as potent daggers rather than as ignorable pouting. Makthaverskan’s cocktail of direct, heartfelt singing, dreamy, gorgeous, incisive instrumentation, and straightforward lyricism aren’t new in name, but rarely have they been combined so grippingly. [Max]

#8 Ava Luna – Electric Balloon

Brooklyn’s Ava Luna are the precise sum of a few very well known musical kooks (Deerhoof, Pixies, Dirty Projectors), yet have a fanbase that’s merely the size of their underground friends and soundalikes Krill (who, unrelated, are set to release one of next year’s best albums). Their mastery lies in their ability to spin the idiosyncrasies of their popular influences into a sound that’s uniquely theirs despite its obvious forebears, so why aren’t more people listening? Almost everyone who enjoys the music of their influences is bound to enjoy them, but few have discovered the flavorful gem known to the world as Electric Balloon.

Give it time, though. More listeners are bound to stumble upon this wonderful, jagged, soulful, experimental rock group; it’s inevitable with tunes this distinct and dissimilar. What other band could include a stuttered, manic punk barker like “Daydream” on the same record as the yelpy, teasing funk strut of “Sears Roebuck M&Ms” and make them sound like the same artist’s vision? Better yet, how many groups could place these two songs back to back and make them flow as though nothing about each is different? Maybe the same musicians capable of the stop-and-start fury and quiet of album highlight “Plain Speech” could. Clearly, Electric Balloon is a wacky, diverse collection – the flamenco-like “Aquarium” precedes the earnest, gleaming comedown of “PRPL” – and fans of the unhinged will flock to it in due time. [Max]

#7 Cloud Nothings – Here and Nowhere Else

On Cloud Nothings’ 2012 breakout Attack on Memory, songwriter and vocalist Dylan Baldi was furious about his dejection, resulting in eight harrowing post-punk gems that turned heads and attracted new fans. Two years later, Here and Nowhere Else shows Baldi finding the silver lining in his woes rather than just complaining about them. The album conveys that the new, more mature Baldi acknowledges his troubles, finds solutions to them, and successfully executes these strategies. This evolution results in a somewhat brighter, more developed sound, although the album is still consistently dark and noisy.

The mild reinvention of Cloud Nothings’ sound is evident the moment the album starts. “Now Hear In”, the opening track, begins with a traditional power chord riff that’s only barely overdriven, as compared to the scathing distortion of Attack on Memory tunes such as “Wasted Days” and “Our Plans.” The lyrics that soon follow contain a sliver of optimism previously unheard in Cloud Nothings’ work. “No use remembering how it used to be serene/And I can’t feel your pain and I feel alright ‘bout it,” Baldi muses about a failed past relationship, choosing to move on rather than drown in his self-pity. “You don’t really seem to care, and/I don’t even talk about it” from “No Thoughts” later echoes this sentiment, one which pops up constantly throughout the album.

Of course, we’re talking about Cloud Nothings here; even with a brighter mindset, Baldi knows he’s best capable of expressing emotions through noise, and there’s no absence of it here. His constant tightrope walk between lyrical positivity and angry noise dictates Here and Nowhere Else’s success; check the ascension from faintly sunny, clearly sung garage punk to sweltering noise barrages on tracks like “Psychic Trauma”, “Just See Fear”, and “No Thoughts” as proof. There’s no shortage of explosive, frantic drumming on these songs either, so it’s interesting that final track “I’m Not Part of Me”, which contains only the poppiest elements of this album, tends to be its best regarded. Maybe this acclaim stems from its bold statement of the album’s thesis: “I’m not telling you all I’m going through/I feel fine,” declares Baldi, and his confidence and hopefulness embody his latest masterpiece. [Max]

#6 The War on Drugs – Lost in the Dream

Lost in the Dream is the kind of treasure you hope to find in your grandparent’s attic. Adam Granduciel knows how to craft transatlantic gems. Each song feels like its own climatic mini-series. The craftsmanship that was put into this album was very labor intensive in the way that it feels like hurt, despair, confusion, pressure, love, and triumphance are all pillars that construct this album. In order to write songs like, “Under the Pressure, Granduciel had to experience the loss of both love and his identity. Consequently, Lost in the Dream is the rebirth of a resilient soul. As album opener, “Under the Pressure” is a slow-moving master and a victorious ride. At the end of the track, Granduciel manages to crack that, “Well I’m surviving, under the pressure.” This propels an emotional voyage.

Granduciel recreates his stories for a timeless journey. A picturesque dystopian vibe lends its hands to “Suffering” as he wonders about the destruction of his relationship. “Suffering” is the kind of heartbreaking trip that leads to the creation of conquering jams such as “Under the Pressure.” Its slinky guitars offer a comforting ride. The passionate lyrical content makes it possible for most songs on the album to be about five minutes long. No song on the album exemplifies an aching and healing heart as well as “Eyes To The Wind.” This song represents the part of the movie where the main character finds the strength to start moving on. A zoned out saxophone compliments the triumphant atmosphere. Elsewhere, the title track hits like a ton of bricks lyrically. When Granduciel sings, “Lost in the dream, or just the silence of a moment/It’s always hard to tell, down in the way they cut it open and they sold it/It’s always hard to tell”, it becomes so easy to view life and love as an unwinnable game. However, even Granduciel doesn’t mind losing, because he now acknowledges that loss is just a necessary pre-arranged fragment of his life.

It is fitting that “In Reverse” was the last song written, and is appropriately the last song on the record. It recalls important phrases and sounds from most of its predecessors. “In Reverse” is a self-awakening feat that takes months to discover. Ultimately, many will call on Tom Petty or Bob Dylan as obvious influencers, but Lost in the Dream is the setting stone that the band needed to blow away all that chatter. This album is an epic Americana journey that chronicles a lost soul who completely finds the strength to refocus on his dreams and self again. [Sami]

#5 Perfume Genius – Too Bright

No one uses pain as a muse better than Perfume Genius. He crafts daggers that rupture emotions and send all feelings spiraling. Mike Hadreas also has perfect timing. Better yet, his music has always been culturally relevant. In 2012, Hadreas released the music video for his single “Hood.” That same year, marriage equality gained serious momentum and support. In the video, his eyes were a deep color of melancholy. The camera zooms out and it’s revealed that Hadreas is in the arms of another man. They are domesticated and in love. This relationship is a beautiful figuration of love but Hadreas’ past still haunts him. Regardless of sexuality, this is a strong human emotion. Unfortunately, there were many people who left hateful comments on the video’s YouTube page; however, none of them could take away its importance and significance. In just two years, many states have allowed same-sex couples to marry. This theme of toleration and equality is prevalent in Perfume Genius’ lead single, “Queen.”

“Queen” is a personal statement of endearment that unshackles Hadreas from his critics and his past work. His previous album, Put Your Back N 2 It, was tame and subtle. This new album is instead bold and risky, which is evident in the very first track, “Decline”, where Hadreas sings, “No thanks, I decline.” Specifically, he declines all judgments and notions. Too Bright is a bag of new tricks that contains the murky and dirty “My Body” and the finger-snapping bar blues tune “Fool.” Things get unpolished and industrial on “Grid” as it perfectly personifies any American Horror Story soundtrack. Perfume Genius isn’t afraid of bizarre, gritty, or grimy sounds. He still gets intimate and doesn’t lose his competent lyricism. Tender touches are available on songs like “Don’t Let Them In.” Too Bright shrieks, breaches past uniformity, and reshapes hate into a powerful project. [Sami]

#4 Spoon – They Want My Soul

They’re asking just the right band. Elements of soul have lied at the periphery of Spoon’s music for a while now; whether in the raspy, shaky vocal delivery and tipsy pianos of “All the Pretty Girls Go to the City”, the sensual pleading of “I Turn My Camera On”, or virtually the entirety of Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, Motown’s sheen distantly informs this veteran band’s music. But now they want Spoon’s soul, after almost two decades in the game, and the band’s response seems to be tucking it away more than even before. Although flickers of soul’s influence still tend to pop up in Spoon’s pianos, They Want My Soul is their most pop and rock-oriented album, although it still bears the marks of their oddball take on straightforward styles.

If any Spoon album were to pleasurably beat listeners to death, it would be this one. Opener “Rent I Pay” picks up where the crushing pounders of previous album Transference, a somewhat but undeservedly maligned part of their catalog, leaves off; rarely have Spoon’s guitar smacked listeners’ faces harder. The hard groove of “Rainy Taxi” and the deep-fried chords of “They Want My Soul” achieve the same effect, engaging the ears with more aggression than we’re used to from this band. Sure, past greats like “Don’t Make Me a Target” and “My Little Japanese Cigarette Case” strike with great weight, but the stomp of lead single “Do You” resembles a low-Richter earthquake by Spoon standards. This lead single’s sun-soaked guitars, skip-hopping pianos, and almost-coughed vocals aren’t necessarily a new approach for these guys; rather, they’re just taken to their maximum here, as on many songs.

Yet despite the abundance of relative skull-crushers here, They Want My Soul is responsible for some of the most eerie, gentle, unrelentingly gorgeous moments of Spoon’s extensive catalog. Final track “New York Kiss” pours a hint of new wave into its nostalgic melancholy, ending the album on a surprisingly sober, aching note. Far earlier in the album, “Inside Out”, arguably the best song Spoon has written in seven years, is the closest listeners will ever come to crying along with the band. An unexpectedly haunting, pristine piece of restrained synthpop (!!!) with maybe the most fragile lyrics in Spoon’s discography, it’s a track that songwriter and frontman Britt Daniel told The Guardian is “the most beautiful thing [Spoon has] done.” Even though Spoon may be protecting their soul for the moment, a track this beautiful attests to the striking humanity they’ve achieved for not nearly the first time in their career. [Max]

#3 FKA twigs- LP1

A strong visceral string pulls at the core of everything that FKA twigs produces. Intriguing textures, contrasts, and vibrancies all result in LP1 being the most resilient visual album of the year. The album package has a certain Mona Lisa-esque puzzling aesthetic that is graphically interesting. The sleeves for the album feature crumbling, melting, distorting versions of the main album art. In totality, the album art, tracks, music videos are a unified front. The album art quantifies a very somber and an almost sorrowful twigs. The center of her face is colored with red, blue and purple. Red is a color that represents a burning passion, desire, sexuality and romance. On the other hand, blue embodies wisdom, loyalty, truth, and confidence. Purple demonstrates luxury, power and mystery. A passionate red, a confident blue and a very mysterious purple all manifest themselves on this album. LP1 is a portrayal of basic human emotions from an artist that is often personified to be extraterrestrial or unearthly.

It can be said that 2014 went through an alternative R&B phrase. However, none stimulated this genre more than twigs’ “Two Weeks.” An alien beat treads lightly as it marries with twigs’ sensual voice. Her voice is as commanding as every word she sings. This is where the red, blue and purple collide. There is explicit desire, shades of an intensely confident blue and a very mysterious purple. This is definitely the kind of song that every artist should hope to write. It’s an audio stunner that exemplifies the best in rhythm and blues. Twigs projects a stealthy and mysterious image; however, the song “Pendulum” is far from otherworldly. It showcases relatable human emotions. “Pendulum” is a soulful song where an eclectic mix of pleasing sounds lies underneath her as she vocalizes. This track demonstrates a different kind of desire than “Two Weeks.” This time it’s less about sexual desire and more about desiring loyalty. Desire is a strong thematic field that keeps this album together.

Various audiovisual instrumentals invite momentum to each song that is often enthralling. “Lights on” is an intense flame where twigs confesses that “when I trust you we can do it with the lights on.” Similarly, “Kicks” is bursting with imagery of twigs slowly releasing herself from the robust, magnetic desire. Her ethereal delivery matches her fragile state of mind. LP1 succeeds because it is a conglomerate of visual and sonic unity. Twigs has earned a 2015 Grammy nomination for Best Recording Package. Her imagery is mesmerizing, colorful and subtle and therefore, it’s a good sign that the Grammys have recognized an artist who has unique layers. [Sami]

#2 Angel Olsen – Burn Your Fire For No Witness

Now signed to a bigger label and empowered with a full band to record with, Angel Olsen’s Burn Your Fire for No Witness takes all manner of creative leaps with her unique fusion of folk, country, and blues rock. The album is distinctly memorable for how many diverse templates it applies over its runtime, and how brilliantly it succeeds in each mode it attempts. Drumless folk hum is as abundant as both roaring, howling rock stompers and twangy, country-lit musings. Even with Olsen’s flexibility boosting her songs’ quality, though, it’s her voice, both lyrically and musically, that shines most strongly throughout the album.

Opener “Unfucktheworld” is an extended false start for Burn Your Fire; its diminutive, bare-bones folk in no way anticipates follow-up “Forgiven/Forgotten”, a window-shattering anthem of loneliness. Elsewhere, “White Fire” delivers a boldly haunting starkness, and “High and Wild” marries cowgirl boots with piano that nearly recalls good ol’ ragtime. The stylistic bending that drives this album keeps it consistently entertaining, and also contrasts the constance of isolation, despair, and anguish as lyrical themes. “Stars” details the complications of escaping an emotionally abusive relationship, and “Enemy” and “Iota” may detail similar failings. “Unfucktheworld” depicts attachment from a distance, where as “High and Wild” explores the same feelings from a much closer perspective. Each of these songs varies in sound, yet thematic consistency ties them together excellently.

Where the intersection of topical uniformity and stylistic deviance truly meets here is the ineffable, primal power of Olsen’s voice. Her singing is always deeply mournful and pained, whether over a music bed as dim as that on “Dance Slow Decades” or one as earnest as “Lights Out.” This latter song is both the album’s midpoint and the true meeting of Olsen’s vocal talent, emotional discovery, and genre tendencies. Its desolate electric guitars gleam slowly and with no distortion, but make up for this lack of drive with plenty of reverb and eventual phaser. Its vocals are likewise as haunting as they are haunted, ranging from a broken vibrato to a tough bellow. Musically, it lies between the extremes of folky softness and bluesy abrasiveness that define the album’s best moments; wordwise, it sees Olsen giving advice to someone who may well be herself. “Some days all you need is one good thought strong in your mind,” Olsen reassures whoever is listening, a moment that’s both this song’s and the whole album’s peak. In other words: keep the fire burning, even if no one’s around to witness it. [Max]

#1 St. Vincent – St. Vincent

Perhaps the best feeling in the world is to observe a talented person finally garnering the widespread recognition she deserves. After seven years of slowly gaining the undying respect of independent music lovers, St. Vincent, real name Annie Clark, showed up on pretty much everyone’s radar in the year 2014. If year-end lists were based purely on the amount of blogging, discussion, and hype behind an act, St. Vincent, her self-titled fourth album, would top each and every one. It just so happens that the constant conversation is justified: all mythology aside, St. Vincent is this year’s most forward-thinking, individual, bizarre, spellbinding album. Rather than merely standing well ahead of the curve as on past releases, Clark is now transmitting from a level on which only the most revered of legends operate.

Clark’s enhanced spark may indeed come from the abundance of time she spent with a living legend. After releasing the David Byrne collaboration Love This Giant in 2012, the two toured together, and it’s clear from both the newly reformed St. Vincent live show and the funk experimentation of this album that his influence seeped directly into her blood. Where would the electrified, digitized stutter of “Rattlesnake” be without albums like Remain in Light? In what world devoid of Byrne’s strangely enticing musical oddities would a song like “Bring Me Your Loves” be feasible? The unspoken advice of a musical god informs St. Vincent, but Clark is talented enough to adapt his methods into a cocktail all her own.

That a new Clark would manifest on this album was immediately apparent when she released first single “Birth in Reverse” in December 2013. A blitz of technical guitar playing and shifty rhythms unlike anything she’d previously done, come February, fans would realize that much of St. Vincent would match the bar set by this first preview. “Digital Witness”, the album’s fulcrum, saunters down the runway on the weirdest synth-guitar interaction this side of Kraftwerk; “Psychopath” shakes and quivers just as oddly. Yet these are quite evidently pop songs despite their weirdness; “Regret” and “Every Tear Disappears” are among the best examples present of Clark’s juggling of straightforward appeal and weird wonder.

At the end of the day, this is a trick that only St. Vincent could pull off, which is why the album is self-titled. Clark has said that the title also stems from this album sounding more like her true self than ever before, which makes sense given that “Prince Johnny” and “Huey Newton” quite clearly recall the grey hues of Strange Mercy. That Clark can still pilfer from her own past a bit while leaping forward so daringly is reassurance to longtime fans that this seven-year ride to ultimate, ubiquitous respect has been unflaggingly worth the wait. [Max]

2014 was truly a mesmerizing year for the recording industry. Many songs captured the aura of something special and unforgettable ranging from a lo-fi prince, an esoteric R&B goddess, an alternative rock queen, and a heartbroken Swedish indie pop star. Our list contains tracks that managed to redefined genres and consequently solidified an artist place in music. We traveled back to the beginning of the year, explored the mid-year releases and reminisced over songs that came out over the last few weeks. Sounds tantalizing? Check out our favorite songs of 2014 below.

Way Too Indie’s Best Songs of 2014

#20 Alex G – “Soaker”

“Soaker” is a candid peek into the eyes of sluggish adolescent love. However, Alex G’s symbolism is anything but juvenile. This short and intimate track personifies the love of two people as equal to the density of water and glue. Alex’s introverted and steady singing builds rapport with the listener, and it’s easy to see why critics are keeping a watchful eye. His downhearted lyrics do not travel around the parameters of the truth. “Soaker” is a direct admission backed by casual and simple guitar playing. There is no climax, rising action, or resolution. He only presents his conflict. The song begins and ends with “All I ever do is soak through you.” It’s refreshing to hear that somebody doesn’t have all the answers to this thing called love. [Sami]

#19 Mr. Twin Sister – “Out of the Dark”

“I am a woman/but inside I’m a man and I want to be as gay as I can.” It’s a fitting line for a band that just added a male prefix to its female-gendered name, and it fits into today’s intersectionality conversations quite well. The band formerly known as Twin Sister clearly knew what they were doing when they made this line the most memorable part of their third album’s best song, “Out of the Dark.” Even against the already gripping 4 AM clomp of warbly, muted synths and clomping percussion, this pitch-shifted, robotically vocalized statement stands out audaciously. Its placement just before a louder, Thriller-meets-The-Knife groove is excellent thinking too. Subsequent sounds further establish an appropriately menacing, assertive stride, ensuring that this song is as fluid and dynamic as its narrator’s gender. [Max]

#18 Two Inch Astronaut – “No Feelings”

Has anyone embodied their label’s name this well? Two Inch Astronaut’s “No Feelings” is the standout track from their sophomore effort, Foulbrood, released on consistently excellent small label Exploding in Sound, and it quite literally explodes in sound. The dissonant guitars spanning its introduction lead to unsteady six-string shuffling during the first verse, and this tension is searingly resolved with an explosive chorus. Dynamic shifts outline the remainder of this song, and this constant switch between pummeling and reserved makes for uneasy but poignantly incisive listening. [Max]

#17 Chromeo – “Jealous (I Ain’t Wit It)”

Creating a sustainable algorithm that features shades of funk and electronic music requires really good chemistry. Rhythmic masterminds Chromeo have already perfected that art. “Jealous” is completely inundated in a thick sea of slick funky goodness. They downright live by the rule that funk is a way of life. This track is a fun burning tease that showcases their vulnerable side. Chromeo has created an anomaly with this sound. They function in a genre different from most, but still manage to polish songs that are sellable and commercial. This song is progressively powered by its up-tempo beats accented with catchy lyrics. This echoes summer music festivals, and even in the winter, it keeps warm and ready for June. [Sami]

#16 Mitski – “Townie”

Why wouldn’t Mitski Miyawaki’s dad wouldn’t want her to sound like this? “I’m not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be!” Mitski wails during the overblown, pounding chorus of the strongest track from her incredible third album Bury Me at Make Out Creek. It’s a lyric that almost anyone can relate to – who hasn’t rebelled against their parents here and there? – and it’s just as biting as the rest of the song’s words and guitars. The chorus’ first line, “I want a love that falls as fast as a body from the balcony, and/I wanna kiss like my heart is hitting the ground”, describes desire in an unusually precise and intense manner, and its follow up, “I’m holding my breath with a baseball bat/though I don’t know what I’m waiting for,” conjures images of paralyzing horror movie villains. The emotional depth of these lines sticks like the strongest of adhesives, and Mitski’s guitars only add to this deeply potent cocktail. The ridiculously distorted blur of her power chords shout as loudly as their creator’s voice; together, the two soar into a growling overdrive that no father could ever resist. [Max]

#15 Todd Terje – “Delorean Dynamite”

We used to think that the only thing stopping the computers from going full Terminator on us was their lack of language and emotion, but to disprove this notion, there exist electronic instrumentals that communicate pure dance and lust to us. Enter Todd Terje’s “Delorean Dynamite” as 2014’s shining example of this capacity for machines to strike our most sensitive nerves. It’s a song that doesn’t need inane lines like “Rock yo’ body!” or “Boogie to the groove now!” to make its listeners to do exactly that, and its disco overtones are bathed in Saturday Night Fever vivacity. Without any manner of words at all, “Delorean Dynamite” shakes, rattles, and rolls with a retrospective, jubilant groove that’s as confident as it is glorious. The constant shuffle of its warped, colorful synths pairs excellently with its jaunty drumline and peripheral splashes of feel-goodness across five-and-a-half addicting minutes of dancefloor dominance. When the machines take over, it better be as fun and sexy as this. [Max]

#14 Lykke Li – “No Rest for the Wicked”

Channeling heartbreak into one song is no easy task. On her latest album, I Never Learn, Lykke Li utilizes the disintegration of a relationship as the arc for her entire record. Much like the movie Blue Valentine, there is no happy ending. This track in particular is a sincere, self-inflicted tale. Her account is gripping and downward spiraling as she sings through the complete collapse of true love. From the miserably sharp piano notes to the climatic and confessional ending, this track reeks of someone slowly finding closure. The heavier the instrumental gets, the more open Lykke becomes.

The cover art for this album features Lykke guarding her heart with her hands. The irony of this track is that she reveals she was responsible for the breakup. There’s a deep, troubling, sympathetic remorse that concludes this track. This song beautifully depicts an unraveling state of mind. [Sami]

#13 Ty Segall – “Tall Man Skinny Lady”

There’s a bubblegum element to this track where tiny and sweet elements leave a sticky trace in your head. It’s pure rock and roll, and downright absolutely fun. There’s a live video on YouTube that is perfectly indicative of the above. The clunky drumbeats encounter Ty’s super charged guitars and when they both meet at the intersection, a cloudy mix of head banging goodness is created. The song is less about profound lyrics and more about parading rock music in a grand fashion. A track with only 11 lines isn’t looking to rely on its meaning. This track is only here to have fun. The energy boils to a hot temperature and “Tall Man Skinny Lady” ends at a pinnacle. [Sami]

#12 Mac DeMarco – “Passing Out Pieces”

We are living in the era of clickbait. BuzzFeed does it and so does Pitchfork. With competition so high, who has time to play it safe? When Pitchfork does it, they are essentially using musicians as tools for views. More specifically, when Mac DeMarco antics go viral, music blogs often try to outdo each other for the craziest headlines. “Passing Out Pieces” is a penned diary entry where Mac wonders about overextending himself to the public. He ponders on whether to be reclusive or accessible. It is a simple tale of celebrity that only some can understand. The one-track-minded instrumentals project noticeably in front as Mac shares just enough to make us feel concern. Sometimes it feels like a midlife crisis, and other times it feels damn near relatable. It’s his invitation for a smoke where Mac is waiting to bare his soul. [Sami]

#11 Chance the Rapper – “No Better Blues”

It takes seven seconds for this track to walk to a ledge and poetically jab society in the face. At forty-three seconds, everything descends into despair. Reinforced by a spoken word ambiance, “No Better Blues” evokes a poignant social commentary. Chance spells out negativity towards the simple building blocks of society. This tense satirical stance offers glimpses of how easy it is to be negative about anything. Chance growls, “I hate the optimistic smirks on the face of children.” He raps about his hate for rain, his wife, his job, and his home; however, he’s merely giving us a reflection of our own pessimism. It’s a nice warm blanket of contradiction that suffocates everything until the very end. Trudging drumbeats elevate his mockery and commentary. In his closing remarks, Chance points his fingers at those who are constantly being negative in a world with so many good things by saying, “I fucking hate you.” File “No Better Blues” next to “Paranoia”, because they both offer key insights into the darkness of human emotion. [Sami]

#10 Cloud Nothings – “Psychic Trauma”

Cloud Nothings’ radical shift from lo-fi bedroom guitar pop to visceral, seething punk rock continued in grand fashion with this year’s Here and Nowhere Else, within which third track “Psychic Trauma” best outlines this Cleveland trio’s unique spark. A slow dirge of an intro ascends into a furious chorus of motion-sickness drumming and a frenzied, asymmetric guitar roar, which then further evolves into a bestial display of songwriter Dylan Baldi’s vocal flexibility. The guttural, broken screaming that defines this section of the song follows a despondently sung chorus, a contrast that illuminates the primal power of Baldi’s resilient voice. It’s not long before a varied version of the verse and chorus appears, and these moments provide a nice appetizer for the noisy thrash that defines the song’s last minute. Here, guitars fly flagrantly, drums smash with the urgency of wartime weaponry, and a cathartic rush of dissonance and chaos fills the soundscape. Forget Baldi’s chorus complaint of “my mind is always wasted listening to you”; “Psychic Trauma” provides a challenging, brain-bending form of garage rock that remains uncommon in a ubiquitous genre. [Max]

#9 White Lung – “Drown with the Monster”

A track with this titular sentiment is probably a protest song. Press play, and the lacerating, borderline heavy metal guitar work suggests this initial notion to be true. Except it’s not: “Drown with the Monster” is a highly personal song, as are many of the tracks on its mother album Deep Fantasy, about overcoming all manner of doubts and inwardly directed hatred. The titular Monster isn’t a corporation or an awful war machine; it’s instead a representation of how mental instabilities can lead to situations as damaging as drug addictions and unhealthy relationships. White Lung vocalist Mish Way is known to write about self-empowerment rather than just complaining, though, and “Drown with the Monster” is a potent example of her lyrical style.

“Take these sights in!” Way commands during this song’s pre-chorus, a statement that shortly precedes her observation that “The water looks good on you, yeah.” Way knows that the monster can be drowned, and even encourages its captives to go down with it. “What better way to fix your problems than to fully take control of them?”, she asks over her band’s guttural guitars, frantic drums, and demonically heavy sounds. She’s got a right to ask: what makes this song so great is that Way is indeed fully control of the chaotic music below her voice. After listening to “Drown with the Monster”, the only addiction anyone will have is to this song. [Max]

#8 The War on Drugs – “Red Eyes”

Hearing “Red Eyes” for the first time was like hearing a pulsing wavelength that created its own mark in my head. A dichotomous wave pulled on my eardrums and created a thin layer of an intimate cloud set in a giant stadium. It was odd and ambient. Lead singer Adam Granduciel creates songs that are elongated and mystical. In just four minutes, the band had solidified its place on many top songs/album of 2014 lists. There is nothing overrated about this track. There’s a wondrous marriage of pianos, guitars, and magical synths. It’s easy to get lost in the sonically hypnotized instruments, but the lyrics themselves are standouts. They have definitive textures of heartbreak and partial hope. As Adam’s voice seemingly drowns out, he gets more personal and reveals that, “I would keep you here, but I can’t.” He slowly triumphs over the instruments, and it sounds both emotional and gratifying. [Sami]

#7 Shamir – “On the Regular”

This is my national anthem. Seriously, this should be a national anthem that clubs everywhere ought to be required to play. This colorful and personal hymn is Shamir’s personal statement to the world. The twisting disco sounds seem designed for the not so hidden whiplash of self-assured lines. The saucy chorus serves several nice and syrupy lyrics. Witty tricks like “Guess I’m never-ending, you could call me pi” demonstrate that Shamir is clearly coming into his own. With each new track, I am even more intrigued by his vibrant spirit, complexities and influences. [Sami]

#6 Jack White – “Lazaretto”

“Lazaretto” is Jack White at his most pompous state of mind. His voice is brawling and each energy source is elevated ten notches higher than usual. As soon as this track enters the party, it steps up as the confident guy at the center of the dance floor. Jack glides along the pathways of being bombastic, but he curves, and also punches critics with a solid blow by time the chorus comes through. His signature guitar playing drives a strong electric charge, and by the time you pull out your air guitar, Jack is already spitting that, “They put me down in the lazaretto, born rotten, born rotten.” For a long time, Jack has been walking the fine line of becoming an iconic musician and being a really outspoken personality who sometimes draws harsh criticism. Lazaretto, both the album and the single, is a tale of someone who is cognizant of both perceptions. Lazarettos are often used to quarantine sickly people from the public. Using it as a symbol for his self-reliant nature, “Lazaretto” becomes a self-fulfilling story. Jack shatters any shackles and jumps right through the negativity.

It’s bold and suggestive and that’s why it fits. A fuse is lit and everything is quiet for just one small second. A small tumultuous burn bakes to such a high temperature that everything is kicked into a high groovy atmosphere. It’s sonically satisfying as Jack sharply screams. The drums give an added boost as Jack says that, “I’m so Detroit I make it rise from the ashes.” The last minute is an exposition of violins, guitars, drum and blues rock heaven. Jack concludes by breaking out of the Lazaretto. [Sami]

#5 Angel Olsen – “Lights Out”

Angel Olsen doesn’t need lights to occupy a room; no, her voice can do that just fine. At an intimate solo acoustic session in a Philadelphia record store this past May, Olsen hushed a small crowd with the immense power of her singing, which consumed the room even at its quietest. She only played a handful of songs during this session since she had a full band show a couple of hours later, but she was certainly consistent, sticking with the mournful acoustic numbers in her catalog rather than the striking electric rockers from this year’s excellent Burn Your Fire for No Witness.

At the middle of both these two Olsen extremes as well as of Burn lies “Lights Out.” This solemn, lovelorn tale replicates the desolate guitar work of her drumless acoustic folk tunes in its verses, only to blossom into a more obviously electric, percussion-laced chorus. Each approach is equally haunting, and both fit perfectly within the framework of a single song. Olsen’s stirring sounds nevertheless play second fiddle to her words, which fans and critics alike praise for just how harshly they stick. “Lights Out” might contain Burn‘s most relatable, heartbreaking sentiment: “Some days all you need is one good thought strong on your mind.” Olsen’s pain is evident throughout “Lights Out”, but this line in particular drives home her emotional state, ensuring that some days, all you need is one good song strong on your mind: namely, this one. [Max]

#4 Caribou – “Our Love”

Dan Snaith, better known as Caribou (although he used to go by Manitoba), is a touring musician who also has a doctorate in mathematics. Clearly, Snaith is an incredibly intelligent guy, and his unusual mind has allowed him to consistently compose cerebral, hallucinogenic music for just over a decade now without losing steam. His smarts ensure that whatever experiments he undertakes will be successful, and the deep house exploration that is “Our Love”, the title track from his sixth album, is no exception.

“Our Love” continues Snaith’s Swim-era shift towards electronic music and away from shoegaze-psychedelic hybrids. That’s not to say this song isn’t trippy as hell (it is); rather, it just approaches mind-melting from a different angle. The rounded synth work and drilling drum machines of deep house form a cornerstone for this song’s woozy, R&B-esque psychedelia, imbuing it with both a resonant tug and a shifty beat. Snaith repeatedly croons the song’s title, and only its title, for roughly its first half, which features a short string section courtesy of friend and collaborator Owen Pallett. When these strings arrive, it’s clear that this song will be going to higher places quite soon, and a break roughly three minutes in confirms this theory. A low-rumbling synth pattern accompanies propulsive drum work that’s equally appropriate for both mindless swinging and blissful ruminations, eventually gaining volume and force to evolve into a swirling frenzy of dancefloor beauty. No wonder Snaith isn’t doing much talking; with instrumentals this poignant, who needs words? [Max]

#3 Perfume Genius – “Queen”

Shoving his piano ballad typecast moniker aside, Perfume Genius fully embodies a brazen pop star worthy of challenging negativity into a powerful statement. “Queen” features a stimulating juxtaposition between its muscular oomphs and its wailing instrumentals as Mike Hadreas takes menacing homophobic stereotypes such as “riddled with disease” and punches them with the triumphant and down right cocky resolution that “no family is safe when I sashay.” Mike’s bold soliloquy is a razor sharp gash in the face towards backwards sentiments. Self worth is a beautiful thing and no one expressed it better than Perfume Genius in 2014. [Sami]

#2 St. Vincent – “Rattlesnake”

“Rattlesnake” dominated the promotional campaign for St. Vincent’s fourth and best album, one which is also self-titled. When asked why she waited this long to self-title an album, St. Vincent, real name Annie Clark, said something along the lines of this being the album where, for the first time, she truly sounds like herself. An astute observation: the 8-bit synths of “Rattlesnake” in the album’s opening slot is a stance that Clark is here and Clark is now.

One of the weirdest-sounding songs ever recorded, “Rattlesnake” is a freakshow that only minds as witty, unhinged, and daring as Clark’s could ever achieve. Even though it’s so zany it sounds extraterrestrial, its story happened in real life, right here on Earth. While recording St. Vincent, Clark explored the desert behind the studio, and realized she was alone there. Having the freedom to roam in the nude, Clark did just that, only to eventually hear a rattlesnake hissing at her feet. Running home with no clothes on, Clark worried that she might die there alone, and that no one might ever find her. The fear and anxiety she might’ve experienced then is blatant throughout “Rattlesnake”, but it’s also coupled with funk and groove.

Clark’s matching of opposites isn’t an easy task, but Clark pulls it off fearlessly and damn near perfectly. Her verses’ wails of “wah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, ah!” overlie creaking, flashy synths and heavily reverbed drumwork, which all deftly anticipates the furious funk of her chorus’ guitars. “Am I the only one in the only world?” she asks often throughout the song, a question to which the answer is usually no. But change it to “Am I the only one in the only world crazy enough to pull this weirdo trickery off?”, and the answer is a clear yes. Add the decade’s most insanely laser-gun guitar solo to boot, and you’ve got a gem that only hints at the madness to come throughout the rest of the album. [Max]

#1 FKA twigs – “Two Weeks”

When this song first arrived here from whatever foreign land it originated, it was coupled with one of the most fascinating, endlessly rewatchable music videos in recent memory. First listens of the menacing, trap-oriented, sex goddess anthem “Two Weeks” were almost always accompanied with the Aaliyah-worshipping video, which begins with FKA twigs, real name Tahliah Barnett, decked out in gold atop some sort of well-deserved throne. As the video progresses, the camera slowly zooms out from Barnett to reveal that her seat is far taller than the background dancers (which might actually all be various edited-in copies of her), implying her grand power. The video’s images are not only impossible to shake when listening to “Two Weeks”, they’re also perfect partners to the assertive, bold sexual stance Barnett takes in this song.

In a culture where men are praised for their sexual prowess and women are shamed for it, it’s remarkable to hear a song like “Two Weeks”, in which Barnett simultaneously declares that she is an excellent sexual partner, that she is allowed to feel and express lust in the same manners as men do, and that she and only she is in control of her body and her decisions. These are brave statements in a still sadly backwards society, and Barnett is perfectly suited to challenge norms. The hype that brought her to her present state of universal acclaim stemmed as much from her unusual aesthetic and dress style as it did from her warped, fractured take on R&B; she’s been turning heads from the start.

It’s interesting, then, that “Two Weeks” is, sonically, the most straightforward, and thus far best, song in her catalog, with all due respect to the incredibly worthwhile “Pendulum.” Against its left-field music video and uncommonly expressed (but likely universally felt) sentiment, the song’s gently pulsing bass drums and waveform, glitchy synth track are conventional by FKA twigs’ standards. The lopsided rhythms and anxiously minimal digital sounds that command most of her songs are instead replaced with a standard pop song form and radio-friendly instrumental work. This dramatically contrasts the lyrical content, which uses an almost hilarious amount of profanity to get its message across. “Higher than a motherfucker dreaming of you as my lover” is the chorus’ lyrical anchor, and it’s maybe the most repeatable phrase of the year despite being unavailable for airplay. Likewise, “Give me two weeks, you won’t recognize her” is just one of many other memorable statements made here as well. The lyrics may be unsettling for some, but if that’s the sacrifice Barnett has to make to feel comfortable in the pop songwriting mode that’s unfamiliar to her, then it’s a concession damn well worth making. And comfortable she feels: not only is this her best song, but it’s both the year’s best and one of R&B’s strongest in quite some time. [Max]

Stream the Best Songs of 2014

Is FKA twigs human, or is she dancer? “I can’t recognize me”, she sighs at the end of “Video Girl”, a song that expresses her disdain towards sometimes being more noticed for her dancing in the background of two Jessie J videos, among others, than for her thriving music career. It seems that twigs herself, real name Tahliah Barnett, only sees the dancer in her, but LP1, her eagerly awaited debut, suggests she’s more human than most, despite the mysterious persona she’s cultivated since last year’s cherished EP2. Outside of “Video Girl”, LP1’s lyrics touch on sexuality and emotional intimacy in a stark, honest way, and her music, despite its jagged, eerie feel, is innately sensual and wholly resounding.

Both lyrically and sonically, the content of LP1 is a continuation of EP2. Past songs like “Water Me” and “Papi Pacify” now seem like stepping stones towards excellent tracks including “Pendulum” and “Give Up.” The disorienting, almost uncomfortable R&B of “Water Me” preludes the slithering background noise of “Pendulum”, and both songs explore unmet desires in a sexual partnership. Likewise, the expansive murkiness of “Papi Pacify” bleeds into “Give Up”, whose command of “Just nod your head and give up” doesn’t stray far from “Clarify your love” on “Papi Pacify.” What’s most clear when comparing the new tracks to their predecessors, is that Barnett has now refined EP2’s combined package of lust, desolation, and smokiness into a sound even stronger than her already haughty past works.

In fact, most of LP1 is sticky and irresistible, exactly as the lovers described in FKA twigs’ songs. “Video Girl” is slinky and subtle, but it’s impossible to get unstuck from your head after just a few listens. “Lights On” at first appears choppy and frenetic, but it quickly rearranges into a breathy, striking earworm. “Numbers”, one of the album’s more upfront, immediate moments, may at first dismay listeners seeking a tune as well-flowing as EP2’s “How’s That”, but it soon grows into a ballistic, hyper-tense tale of lovelorn regret. It doesn’t come without a veiled threat, though; Barnett refuses to merely express her anger, opting instead to also act on it with the question, “Tonight, do you want to live or die?”

Even when she’s hurt, Barnett remains in control of the situations she’s placed in, so it’s even more thrilling to hear her in a confident place of complete power. “Two Weeks”, LP1’s celestial standout and a hefty contender for Song of the Year, backs Barnett’s salacious boasting and unrestricted lust with her most uncomplicated, accessible production work to date. The trap drum flickers that appear every so often accentuate her already potent words: “higher than a motherfucker dreaming of you as my lover” is one of the year’s most unforgettable phrases, and the silken synth spikes underlying it swell its impact to undeniable proportions.

Sure, “Two Weeks” is excessive in its profanity and pretty much everything else, but this risky overindulgence is a massive success. It’s also LP1’s most maximalist, obtrusive track; it stands opposite the majority of the album, and casts a shadow over it. For example, the placement of “Hours” after “Two Weeks” makes its restrained, low-key electronics easy to gloss over; that it’s also the lead-up to “Pendulum” sure doesn’t help. “Closer” feels like it could explode into a sonic bliss similar to “Two Weeks”, but never quite gets there. Final track “Kicks” suffers mildly from the same plague, although its unwinding song structure and sexual loneliness, to be overly euphemistic, do entertain quite well.

It’s on this final track that FKA twigs asks, “What do I do when you’re not here?” After listening to LP1 only a handful of times, it’s inevitable to apply this question to the album. Few albums this summer have been as simultaneously perplexing, disquieting, intimate, gorgeous, and memorable as this one. What did we do without this album?