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

At the moment, the music industry is temporarily quieting down, as it does every November. During this yearly period, it might seem like there’s less music waiting to be consumed, which is where The Underdog comes in. Let us guide you to lesser-known releases, great works that were overlooked in light of bigger names this month. Something here is sure to fill the musical void that some listeners experience around this time of year.

Bugs in the Dark – Cross My Heart Little Death EP

Blues rock was invented long ago; today, t exists in so many different forms that the term feels elementary and almost condescending. But what better way is there to describe Brooklyn three-piece Bugs in the Dark than with this signifier? Their guitars flame distantly with the murky, howling groove of classic country blues, and their vocals sneer with an acidic fierceness. The latter of these qualities is certainly a somewhat more recent development in blues-based rock music (courtesy of names like Patti Smith, Siouxsie, and Karen O), but the raw, homeland feel that the former traits are responsible for is a classic that’s brazenly revitalized on the Bugs’ most recent EP, Cross My Heart Little Death.

Celestial Shore – Enter Ghost

Brooklyn trio Celestial Shore’s youth is palpable. The fractured, tense, bent-guitar noise that throws their second album, Enter Ghost, into overdrive bears a rough novice spark. The alternating havoc and psychedelia of this opening track, “Creation Myth”, is one of two distinct modes in which Celestial Shore operates; a trippy haze is elsewhere cast over Velvet Underground-like tunes such as “Weekenders” and “Too Cute.” Even at its quietest, though, Enter Ghost boasts a juvenile roar, yet it’s actually pretty mature for a bunch of kids who may not yet be out of high school. Crafting tunes this vivid and fierce from just a guitar, a bass, and a drum is a far more adult skill than might be expected from these guys, but they’re working very well with what they have.

Crying – Get Olde Second Wind

“Combine chiptune with basement punk and emo? Why not!” The members of Purchase, NY’s Crying likely had this conversation at some point. A style that sounds ridiculous and overblown in theory, it’s actually remarkable enough to have landed this group a record deal or two. After issuing the EP Get Olde on rising indie label Double Double Whammy, the relatively small, but consistently excellent, label Run for Cover signed Crying, reissuing Get Olde with the companion EP Second Wind. The double EP follows both the hyperactive 8-bit cues of Anamanaguchi and the desolate grimness of myriad emo bands. Vocals that might sound sad and distant when accompanied with traditional sounds instead flourish and rattle here. “Gotta check my email just like every other night/Gotta sip that 40 just like every other night,” as muttered dejectedly on “Olde World,” gains layer upon layer of exciting vivacity despite the hopelessness underlying these sentiments. It’s a balancing act that Crying pull off constantly on Get Olde Second Wind, a short assortment that’s so catchy its forlorn nature can be easy to miss.

Gifts – Seven Songs

Genres aren’t necessary to classify Gifts. All that needs to be said is that their guitars rip no matter what, their vocals travel lucidly over inhale-exhale drum blasts, and their emotions run directly down the middle of their songs. Seven Songs provides, yes, seven examples of this immense talent. Of all the things that two guitars, a bass, a vocalist, and a drum kit can achieve, very few are off-limits here. Check the blast beats on “Tracing Paper” and the mosh-worthy guitar slam that opens “Low”: Gifts shatter boundaries all the time, analogously to how their songs might shatter eardrums. But that’s no excuse not to play this one as loudly as possible.

Gold Lake – Years

Here’s a band that exemplifies everything that the Internet blogs about these days, yet somehow haven’t gotten the attention they deserve. Brooklyn’s Gold Lake layer crooning, warm, often-harmonized female vocals with highly reverbed, evocative guitar swirls and a generally gorgeous, striking atmosphere. Buzz names like Haim and Hundred Waters instantly come to mind, but Gold Lake might almost beat these acts at their own game. The soaring, beautiful vocal harmonies of “Severed Land, The Sound” are some of the year’s best, and the glittery blossom of “Home” employs musical retrospection awfully well. A galloping feel is common here, further solidifying potential comparisons to Fleetwood Mac (see this album’s “Echoes” for confirmation). Gold Lake aren’t nearly the first act to do what they do, but they make their sound feel completely novel, a tremendous task worth admiring.

Mitski – Bury Me at Make Out Creek

I can’t really think of anybody who embodies the term “underdog” better than Mitski does. Her songs dwell in loneliness, defeat, and desire; her fan base is almost alarmingly loyal, yet is relatively tiny; the blog buzz is currently pushing her towards indie stardom, yet for everyone aware of her goddess status, there are a bunch of people who’ve never heard of her. Furthermore, almost everyone who has heard Bury Me at Make Out Creek calls it one of their favorites of the year, and for good reason. The album can be as quietly heartbreaking as “First Love // Late Spring”, “Francis Forever”, and “I Will”, but even these songs explode into the frenzied loudness that truly makes this collection a home run. Other tracks like “Townie”, among the year’s best songs, kick the door down immediately; “Drunk Walk Home” further signifies the apex of maddened, demonic, emotive singer-songwriting. Mitski might be holding her breath with a baseball bat, to quote “Townie”, but the entire world is waiting on her big break. Don’t be surprised if it happens right this second, but until then, read our review of Bury Me at Make Out Creek.

Nots – We Are Nots

No Wave is making a comeback lately, with bands like Ausmuteants, Parquet Courts, and Memphis, Tennessee’s Nots on board. Their jagged punk tunes throw some nods towards post-punk, but the influence of kraut-rock and noise is far more evident in their craft. Nots don’t sing; what they do is closer to chanting and bellowing, not too far off from what The Clash and the Dead Kennedys did in their heyday. Instrumentally, their steely, warehouse bass, guitars, and drums spell out doom and irreverence without ever getting too loud. Dissonance is Nots’ trick instead, which would likely make Siouxsie Sioux and Patti Smith proud (again). If the goddesses theoretically approve, why not listen to it?

Pilots in Orbit – They Go Back Where You Found Them EP

One of the first lyrics on Pilots in Orbit’s final EP states, “I’m gonna waste your time.” While it’s doubtful that this is actually a nod to the band’s conscious decision to make this their breakup release, the sentiment is misleading. They Go Back Where You Found Them isn’t even twenty minutes long, but it’s some of the best finger-tapped, emo-indebted goodness of recent times. It’s a style New Jersey is quite versed in; contemporaries Vasudeva do this thing pretty well, for example. But what Pilots in Orbit have over Vasudeva is a deft, emotive vocalist, one who’s backed with a couple of other voices fleetingly enough that the harmonies don’t descend into overly tender territory. Instead, the band’s racing guitars form thrilling, sparkly anthems. If these qualities don’t convince you, know that the band formed from their ashes, El Americano, is already getting rave live reviews, and they haven’t even recorded their music yet.

Two Inch Astronaut – Foulbrood

I reviewed this album somewhat harshly. I’d still say it has a handful of problems to fix, but a band this young deserves praise and attention for their best moments regardless. That’s part of why they’re on the list, but a more important reason is that their songs, when good, are actually great. Opener “Foulbrood” is only the first instance here of one guitar covering for two or three guitars in its flexibility and skilfulness, and it also displays Sam Rosenberg’s vocals achieving the same great heights. “Part of Your Scene” pulls off the same trick with even more vigor; “Type Four” hosts an even deeper stutter and odd pacing to its riveting garage punk. The album peaks with the tensions of “No Feelings”, an expert study in the buildup and release of musical stress. Choruses that rip hard aren’t tough to come by, but ones that do so with this much intensity are a bit rarer. Props to the upward trajectory these guys are carving for themselves; they’re not quite there yet, but pure excellence can be expected soon.

About a month ago, I prefaced my review of Little Big League’s Tropical Jinx with a brief discussion of the Northeast’s burgeoning DIY scene. It’s a conversation that bears repeating upon the release of Two Inch Astronaut’s sophomore album, Foulbrood. Exploding in Sound is releasing this record, which adds to the continuous stream of notable works from the smaller label scene. The album is certainly more angular and technical than many other bands in this sect of modern punk music could even hope to achieve, yet it still feels right at home with the northeastern DIY crowd. That said, it’s not always as compelling as albums like, say, labelmates Krill’s jagged freakout Lucky Leaves or Double Double Whammy queen Mitski’s booming, thunderous Bury Me at Make Out Creek. In fact, it can actually grow tedious to listen to the entirety of Foulbrood in one sitting; instead, the standout songs hold up incredibly strongly on their own, with the rest of the songs being simply respectable, only a little bit interesting.

Foulbrood‘s technical prowess often sounds engaging and fresh, but this same trait sometimes comes with a sacrifice of overall song quality. Contrasting “Part of Your Scene” with “Black Fridge Area” sheds light on this conflict pretty nicely. The former track’s fuzz-blown guitars alternate between suppressed high notes and gruff, static-screen power-chord murk at an impressive pace, and its vocals snarl and bark appropriately fiercely. This combination of elements creates one of the album’s best tracks, whereas the dry, defeated approach to dissonance and showiness on “Black Fridge Area” keeps things relatively flat until the last-minute. As this song’s end approaches, the guitars wail more loudly and with far more venom, but this effect drowns out the vocals, a musical layer that could elevate the song instead of hiding behind it. “1, 2, Talk” suffers a similar flaw, its splayed, eerie notes not quite supporting vocalist Sam Rosenberg as intensely as they could. This song too approaches a higher state as it nears its end, but even the brief sequence of dirty, fleshy guitar playing that comprises the outro doesn’t hold up as well as other moments on Foulbrood. The apex of Two Inch Astronaut faltering in their flashiness, though, is “Dead White Boy,” an eight minute stoner crawl that visits so many different ideas that it’s difficult to keep up with; even describing its sound and structure proves frustrating.

Enough with the derision, though: there’s also quite a lot to celebrate about Foulbrood. The album begins excitingly with the thick, gravelly cut of the title track’s guitars, and Rosenberg’s vocals here act flexibly enough to ensure a great jam. His guitar playing is also pretty all-over-the-place, but in this case, the craziness establishes a sticky groove. Likewise, the crunch and mobility of “Type Four” is shaky in just the right way, and the lacerating high notes of its chorus are particularly incisive. The album’s true peak, though, is “No Feelings,” a jagged, brooding punk anthem that thrills in its visceral fidgetiness. “You’ve got a tendency to move slow!” Rosenberg shouts during this song’s chorus, but this sentiment directly opposes the music, which is chock full of dynamic shifts, high-octane guitar riffing, and odd pacing. Were Foulbrood to consistently use this band’s technical skills in the same electrifying, corrosive way it does on “No Feelings”, Exploding in Sound might be able to lay claim to 2014’s best punk album.

Instead, that honor still belongs to the handful of labels that distributed and released Cloud Nothings’ Attack on Memory earlier this year, but Foulbrood is nevertheless an accomplishment that Exploding in Sound can use to elevate its status among other, better-known labels. Of course the record has notable flaws, but it’s also smeared with the signs of a band that might strike pure gold in due time. For every misplaced note, guitar overexertion, or underwhelming vocal take, there’s a searing riff, a brash romp, or gut-wrenching shout. It’s a balancing act that Two Inch Astronaut is still working to perfect, but for now, they’re well worth attending to if their highlights remain the focus.