My Top 20 Albums of 2016 (Part 2)
The Top Ten
Time to finish what I started! I started my annual retrospective foray into the year’s music with Part 1, including honorable mentions and #11-#15 on my ranked list, which can be found at this link! Read up on Part 1, and Part 2 (the conclusion) will be waiting for you when you get back. To reiterate, my methodology for picking the order of this list was about 75% critical analysis and 25% my own personal opinion and enjoyment of each record, so make sure you keep that in mind as I go through: This is just my opinion after all. Ultimately you should look at this list as suggestions; I may have them ranked, but all these albums are great, and you should give them all a listen. Hopefully you’ll find something new to enjoy!
One thing before I dive in: The Run The Jewels 3 Problem. I created and started publishing this list prior to Run The Jewels 3, by Run The Jewels, being surprise early released on Christmas. I’ve been mulling over trying to fit it in with the 2016 releases on this list, and I’ve decided against it. The physical release of RTJ3 is still slated for January 2017, and for that reason, I will be considering it a 2017 release. Sorry guys, you gotta wait for that one.
That’s enough preamble. Let’s get into it.
#10: Teens of Denial, Car Seat Headrest
Finally, a debut album of original material on a record label by Will Toledo! For those of you unfamiliar, Will Toledo is an indie rock savant who has been self-releasing gobs of quality music on Bandcamp for the last 6 or 7 years under the pseudonym of Car Seat Headrest. In 2015, he signed with Matador Records and released his first official record, entitled Teens of Style. Teens of Style was a compilation of his Bandcamp material, whereas this new album, Teens of Denial, finds Will finally gathering a band to fulfill his moniker and officially releasing a full album of new material. Will Toledo’s strengths have always lain in his songwriting: His lyrics are intensely compelling and personal, and are overlaid on top of unconventional and highly interesting rock song structures that very rarely follow a simple verse/chorus progression. This album shows absolutely no signs of those traits slowing. From the beginning, Toledo’s neo-grunge garage sensibilities will reel you in. The guitars are deceptively complex, the lyrics are angsty enough to be personal without eliciting cringe, and the whole project also carries an element of levity that keeps it afloat throughout.
No song on this record will bore you: every track changes and shifts in such a dynamic fashion that staleness is never an issue, even considering that 9 of the album’s 12 songs exceed 5 minutes in length. The hooks are also very surprisingly infectious considering the genre, lo-fi indie rock, that Car Seat Headrest trafficks in. I find this album to be an incredibly fun and engaging listen at all times, and serves as a very mature and nuanced look at the youth culture of the modern day.
Blockbusters: Destroyed By Hippie Powers; Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales; The Ballad of The Costa Concordia
Lacklusters: Unforgiving Girl (She’s Not An)
#9: The Life of Pablo, Kanye West
HERE IT IS. You knew it would be here. Now, as most will know, Kanye West is a very divisive figure in today’s cultural landscape, and even more divisive was this record. What is this album? Is it an incoherent and worthless mess? Is it a massive stroke of unparalleled genius? I think I fall somewhere in the middle; but closer to the genius bit than the mess bit.
This record is very very interesting for a number of reasons. At times it is incredibly powerful. At times it is incredibly vapid. We know that Kanye is capable of both of those things. Looking back at the year that Kanye West has had in 2016 though, I think the best way I could sum this album up is by saying that I believe that it truly is an accurate snapshot of the psyche of the man behind of the persona. This record is fractured and rambling. It is reverant and soulful, it is braggadocious and self-absorbed, it is damn catchy and damn confusing all at the same time. But there is one thing that is most certainly is not, and that is inauthentic. This record is no doubt, absolutely, positively, and unequivocally KANYE. And I can’t ask for more than that.
Kanye West is a mentally ill man. This by now should be beyond dispute. I have, as a mentally ill person myself, found the media coverage surrounding Kanye’s struggles this year as somewhat abhorrent, and representative of mental health stigma at its very worst. Say what you will about riches and fame, but following a brutal robbery in Paris and a number of mental episodes, Kim Kardashian and Kanye West are worse for wear right now. This album foreshadows Kanye’s struggles to an incredible extent. It is his first record as a father and a husband, and it shows that. It is his first record as a man who cannot dally around as a bachelor anymore, and it reflects that as well. Songs like “Ultralight Beam”, “Famous”, “FML”, “Real Friends”, and “30 Hours” show Kanye at the peak of his powers. Insightful and well-written with the knife-like producer’s ear that he has always brought to his music. Others, like “Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1” and “Low Lights”, are completely absurd and should never have been released as individual songs. But ultimately, this album succeeds on the basis of its flaws; it makes the highs that much higher and displays the very mixed and complex legacy of one of the singular defining artists of a generation.
This review has been rambling and incoherent a little bit. The record is the same way. Listen to it. Revel in the gospel, revel in the immaculate production choices, revel in the very high-quality tracks that populate this record inside and out, and allow Kanye his dalliances with ill-advised musical decisions, because if there is one thing he has earned from us, it’s our trust in his artistic vision.
Blockbusters: Ultralight Beam; Famous; FML; Real Friends; 30 Hours; No More Parties In LA
Lacklusters: Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1; Low Lights; Silver Surfer Intermission
#8: A Moon Shaped Pool, Radiohead
Radiohead. They have taken their place among the greatest rock bands to ever walk this planet. They have influenced countless artists in their now 25 years in the music scene. In 2018 they will be eligible for Rock And Roll Hall of Fame induction for the first time, and if they aren’t inducted immediately it will reveal the entire institution as a sham. Radiohead is now straddling a very dangerous line; the line between continuing to be musical innovators and the dangerous world of legacy acts. Their last major critically acclaimed release was 2007’s In Rainbows. In 2011 they released The King of Limbs to a tepid response both critically and in sales. It seemed in 2016 that the once-great titans of rock music, who had irrevocably changed the course of modern rock forever, may be done for good.
A Moon Shaped Pool assures us that reports of the demise of Radiohead were greatly exaggerated. After a long hiatus, the boys from Oxfordshire dropped a surprise single out of seemingly nowhere, called “Burn The Witch”. From the first foreboding plucked strings, I knew that Radiohead was back. A Moon Shaped Pool followed soon after, and the album does not disappoint. It is sparse and densely orchestrated all at once. It is empty and spacious and haunting, managing to combine the best elements of Thom Yorke’s experiments with the electronic and Johnny Greenwood’s experience designing avant garde orchestral movie scores. The combination is enthralling, compelling, and emotionally evocative. This is not the Radiohead of yore; gone are the complex but punishing electric guitars and gone are the grungy roots that have led us on this merry journey all along. This album is populated by orchestral strings, light acoustic guitars, pianos, and synthesizers that will transport you into a spinning and uncertain dream world of Thom Yorke’s design. Close your eyes. Let yourself float away. The trip is more important than the destination.
Blockbusters: Burn The Witch; Daydreaming; The Numbers; True Love Waits
Lacklusters: Present Tense (I guess if I had to choose one)
#7: “Awaken, My Love!”, Childish Gambino
Donald Glover, aka Childish Gambino, has had a very interesting musical career. Starting off as a comedic actor, Glover brought his talents to the hip-hop community after departing the TV show Community (no pun intended) for greener and more musical pastures. His first full-length album, Camp, received (putting it lightly) mixed reviews, including a rather brutal 1.6 out of 10 from Pitchfork. However, he improved his craft both lyrically and compositionally on his follow-up, the very ambitious project Because The Internet, which came with a full 70+ page screenplay companion piece. It seemed after that release that Glover was finally coming into his own as a rapper, despite his flaws and remaining relative artistic immaturity.
This is the third full-length LP released under the Childish Gambino moniker, and just as Glover was beginning to fully realize his hip-hop potential, he has stopped making hip-hop music entirely. This record is a funk record through and through, with not a single rapped song to be found. It is also easily the most mature and compelling record Donald Glover has ever produced. The lyrical content, while firmly in the realm of Parliament-style absurdity, still manages to be bitingly political and intensely personal whenever Glover wants it to be. The instrumentation and production on the record are, quite frankly, immaculate: There are very few better-sounding albums to be found from the 2016 catalog. The record features soaring melodies, churning and powerful bass cadences, and the some of the best funk grooves this side of 1995. The album is a fantastic and super fun listen, and displays not only a complete change of artistic direction for a promising young musician, but also an unrivaled ear for a musical genre that has been barely heard from in a long time. The purist approach to funk revival found on this record is refreshing and extremely cool to hear.
There are some criticisms that have been leveled toward this record. Some (“I wanted a rap album from Gambino!”) are extremely unfair and ridiculous. Others (“This album is pretty derivative of 70’s funk bands”) are more warranted. But in the end, I really just can’t care. This record is having way too much fun for that to be possible.
Blockbusters: Me And Your Mama; Redbone; Baby Boy; Stand Tall
Lacklusters: Riot (Only because it should be like 2 minutes longer)
#6: Nonagon Infinity, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard
A product of the vibrant Melbourne, Australia, music scene, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, hereafter referred to as simply King Gizzard, is a psych/prog/garage rock outfit that is known for being incredibly creative and insanely prolific. So prolific, in fact, that they have promised to release FIVE albums in 2017 and I might just believe that they can do it. Each album that the band releases takes a unique musical direction or concept and runs with it, usually to great effect. The album preceding Nonagon Infinity was entitled Paper Maché Dream Balloon, and was composed entirely of short and entirely acoustic melodic dreamscapes, recorded out of a shipping container in a band member’s backyard.
Nonagon Infinity could not be more different from its predecessor. The title actually explains the concept of this record very plainly. It is composed of nine songs that loop into each other with no breaks, and the last song loops perfectly into the beginning of the first song, meaning that the record can, in fact, be played forever and never take a single musical rest. It is driving, relentless, exhausting, exhilarating, and wild. The well-crafted and angular psych rock of King Gizzard is on full manic display here, replete with features such as incredibly layered guitars, conceptually fascinating topics, and strange time signatures that serve to clip beats off of measures to make the music seem even faster than it is.
Not only is this record an incredible thrill ride in its own right, but it also displays the musical virtuosity and flexibility of the band as well. From driving psych rock, to relaxed and improvisational samba on “Evil Death Roll”, to a jaunty and slowed down swagger on “Mr. Beat”, and right back around to the nonstop drive, the record never takes a break but also never grows stale. The band is incredibly musically talented, immensely creative, and isn’t afraid to show it off. This record is a great and super fun listen, and anyone who is into any kind of rock music really should take it upon themselves to check it out. And maybe try listening to it a couple times through with the last song going right into the first. You might not even notice when the album restarts.
Blockbusters: Gamma Knife; People-Vultures; Invisible Face; Wah Wah
Lacklusters: Road Train (if I absolutely have to pick one)
#5: We Got It From Here… Thank You 4 Your Service, A Tribe Called Quest
Comeback albums by long-defunct artists are generally categorically disappointing as a general rule, but A Tribe Called Quest has made an entire career out of smashing and disregarding generalities and preconceptions. Their first album in two decades, and also their final and farewell album, shows that the legendary hip-hop group hasn’t slowed down a bit. After reuniting to make some late-night TV appearences in 2015, the Tribe decided that they just might have one last record left in them, and that maybe they had some thoughts on the current political climate that people might want to hear. They were totally correct on all counts.
It should be said, first and foremost, that in very early 2016, Phife Dawg, a core and vital member of the group, passed away from complications related to diabetes. If it wasn’t already obvious, this only cemented for certain that WGIFH… TY4YS would be the final ATCQ album. There is no Tribe without Phife, and the surviving members have made that very clear. Therefore, this last record serves as both a farewell and as a tribute to their fallen brother.
From the very start, the Tribe picks up right where they left off, spitting some incredible verses on some unconventional and experimental instrumentals, the genre-bending instrumentals that defined their career and pushed rap music in ever greater directions throughout the 1990’s. The record is starkly political, starting off with “The Space Program”, which discusses the opportunities not afforded to black people in America, followed immediately by “We The People…”, which can only be read into as a direct attack to the Trump ethos, parodying his calls for deportations and racist rhetoric against Mexicans, with the refrain of the song:
“All you black folks you must go/all you Mexicans you must go/all you poor folks you must go/Muslims and gays/boy we hate your ways”
From beginning to end, this record never stops pushing sonic boundaries like the Tribe always has, and even further, pushes the boundaries of the listener and encourages critical thinking and activism in a troubled time in America. Phife may be gone, but his impact, both on Tribe as a whole and on this one last ride for some of the true greats, will be felt for a long time to come.
Blockbusters: We The People…; Solid Wall of Sound; Melatonin; Enough!!; Black Spasmodic; Conrad Tokyo; Ego
Lacklusters: NONE
#4: Malibu, Anderson .Paak
Anderson .Paak. Remember this name, because this guy is truly skilled. A singer and rapper who trafficks in hip-hop and R&B, Anderson (born Brandon Paak Anderson), brings to the table with this record a wonderfully groovy, atmospheric, emotional, and danceable record that stands out as easily one of the best of the year. From the very beginning, with “The Bird”, Anderson shows off his songwriting chops by writing a classic ’70s style soul jam, complete with plaintive pianos, simple but driving guitar notes, and thought-provoking and well-delivered vocals. The album never slows down. If you were looking for the 2016 version of 2015’s album of the year, Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly, this is it.
Anderson trafficks in many styles across this record, but there are a few select common threads that run throughout. One is a series of between-song sound clips that discuss surfer life and Malibu culture, and tackle topics ranging from love to pain, from drugs to the ocean. It offers a fascinating look into the psyche of southern California and the artist that calls it home, as well as serving as a very witty method of introducing songs by using clips that refer directly to the next song’s subject matter. Another thread that runs through the album are Anderson’s very thoughtful and well-crafted lyricisms, tackling many topics, but focusing on the subjects of love and family. One of the standout tracks of the album is the closer, “The Dreamer”, which serves as a celebratory anthem for those who dare to dream, and also serves as an ode to his mother, who provided for him and his siblings while his father was away serving time in prison after ruthlessly beating his mother bloody in front of his own kids.
The album strikes a perfect balance between work and play, never being afraid to tackle heavy topics while also celebrating life and being thankful for what he has and the people that helped him get to where he is today. It is an immensely personal record, and never ceases to amaze both lyrically and musically. One of the best tracks on the record is “The Season/Carry Me”, the first half of which serves as a love song before very quickly transitioning into the second half, which is punctuated by the line “knees hit the floor/screams to the Lord/why’d they have to take Momma/to the early morn’”. Such intensely personal lyrics make this album all the more powerful, serving as the ideal counterpart for Anderson’s incredibly well-crafted musical landscapes.
Anyone who enjoys R&B or hip-hop music owes it to themselves to give this record a listen. Even if those genres aren’t places that you usually foray into, this record is worth a try. It really is a wonderful piece of thoughtful and powerful Southern California soul, and serves as one of the strongest individual statements by any artist in 2016.
Blockbusters: The Bird; The Season/Carry Me; Am I Wrong; Parking Lot; Room In Here; Come Down; The Dreamer
Lacklusters: Silicon Valley
#3: Blonde, Frank Ocean
In 2012, Frank Ocean changed the R&B world forever with his landmark record Channel Orange. The notoriously reclusive Ocean proceeded to follow up his landmark album with 4 years of relative radio silence, interrupted only once, when known horrible human being Chris Brown and his posse attacked Ocean in a studio parking lot and barraged him with gay slurs (Ocean used Channel Orange, for, among many other things, coming out as bisexual). Now, years after the Grammy Awards created an entirely new category solely for the purpose of being able to give Channel Orange a trophy (Best Urban Contemporary Album, which should always be referred to as the Frank Ocean Award for the rest of time), Ocean returns to the musical world with a new record, and he picks up right where he left off by totally shattering the boundaries of his genre once again.
In 2012, Frank Ocean took R&B to a new place, a place marked with atmospheric instrumentation, using negative space to his advantage, a place where you can go to dream rather than dance. Since that landmark record, many artists have followed in his footsteps. Notable artists like Drake, FKA Twigs, The Weeknd, and Rihanna have all been making darker, more atmospheric, and more spacious R&B music, bringing new elements to the table and pushing the boundaries further. However, on Blonde, Frank Ocean returns, and destroys the concept of atmospheric R&B in favor of borderline abstract R&B. Blonde is a very freeform and unreal sort of album, an album that plays only by its own rules and exists only in between the margins of what music is supposed to be. It is characterized by dreamlike and almost nonsensical synths, blissful acoustic guitars, and a distinct lack of anything that could be referred to as “beats”. The primary instrument of rhythm in most of Frank’s songs on this record is quite simply his own voice. On songs like “Nikes”, “Solo”, and “White Ferrari”, the only tempo marker is however fast Frank chooses to sing, as he is often backed by nothing other than very simple and droning organs.
Frank Ocean has never been afraid to show off his own vocal talents and dominate his own records, but on Blonde, he takes his self-confidence to new heights, and the record thrives for it. On “Pink +White” Ocean invites Beyoncé (Beyoncé!!!), to feature on the song with him, and relegates her to singing simple background vocals. On “Skyline To”, Kendrick Lamar makes an appearance, and does almost nothing at all, merely providing very quick interjections in between Frank’s lines, often just repeating single words that Frank has already sung. But the lack of distractions from Frank’s own vision is what makes this album so singularly great. He isn’t afraid to let his own voice speak for itself, and for his own abstract and minimalist arrangements simply be as they are. This album lives and dies by the mantra “less is more”, and let me tell you that man, does this album LIVE. This album is vibrant and pulsating with life and emotion, and Frank puts it all together with almost no structure and composition at all.
Frank Ocean truly is the greatest pioneer of the insultingly named “urban contemporary” music that we have. His postmodern stylings of R&B, soul, and old-school crooning fits into the modern musical landscape perfectly, and the world of music is much better off for having him in it.
Blockbusters: Ivy; Pink + White; Solo; Self Control; Nights; White Ferrari; Godspeed
Lacklusters: Be Yourself, Facebook Story (I actually love these interludes a lot, they’re just not exactly songs, there’s really no bad tracks)
#2: Blackstar, David Bowie
What words come to mind when I think of the late David Bowie? Pioneer. Legend. Creator. Artist. Giant. Titan. Master. Madman. Game-changer. One of the greatest single musical minds of all time. David Bowie means more to music than most people or groups ever have. In 2014, unknown to the world until his death, David Bowie was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. He did not make his illness publicly known, nor did he ask for help from anyone or anything. What David Bowie did in the face of certain death was do what he always did best: create. Without ever letting the world know, he created what he knew would be his final album, his parting gift to the world he had graced with his presence for 69 years. David Bowie never wanted nor received a funeral. His last album was his funeral. And he responded to the face of death with one last wonderful and haunting act of defiance.
Bowie’s last record was recorded with simply himself and a jazz combo in New York, and it is triumphant, mournful, mysterious, and artful all in one. Bowie said in interviews leading up to his death that his new record had been inspired by contemporary artists such as Kendrick Lamar and Death Grips, that he was taking inspiration from the politically charged and heavily intense music of those artists, and it shows on this record, from his almost dissonant harmonies on the opening title track, to the Death Grips-style breakbeats on the song “Sue (Or In A Season of Crime)”. The song “Lazarus” is perhaps the most stand-out track on the record. Obviously named for the Lazarus of lore, the man who returned from the dead by the hand of Jesus, the song opens with sad and plaintive saxophones and starts with the, in retrospect, extremely foreshadowing lyric “look up here, I’m in heaven”.
To the very end, David Bowie championed his artistic vision and encouraged others to create as well. The last track of his final record, “I Can’t Give Everything Away”, documents his one regret: That in the time he had here on Earth, he wasn’t able to give away everything he had. His creative depth was not yet depleted when cancer took him from the world, and the last song he ever released laments that he was never able to end his output in the way he maybe would have liked to. The song ends with the harmonica melody from his 1977 song “A New Career In A New Town”, which only serves further to cement the message that Bowie is giving us: He’s moving on, and the rest of us should too.
David Bowie received an opportunity that many artists never receive: the ability to know that his own death was approaching, and to craft his final statement to the world in the way that he wanted to. The record tackles death in a way that we have never before seen an artist tackle death; head on and with reckless abandon. The excellence of the man, the mind, and the mystery never wears off, and his final record never will either.
Blockbusters: Blackstar; Lazarus; Girl Loves Me
Lacklusters: NONE
#1: Atrocity Exhibition, Danny Brown
If the title and album cover of this album doesn’t kind of tell you where we’re going for my top album of 2016, then allow me to assist. Danny Brown, the eccentric and innovative Detroit rapper, has come through with his greatest record to date, and his message and vision have never been clearer. Danny Brown has never been afraid of addressing his own demons in his music. He openly discusses his former intense drug use, his belief that he probably shouldn’t still be alive, and his gratitude that he is. He has, in records past, described stories and hellscapes of his former life and the terror and havoc that rampant drug use and poverty can wreak on the lives of human beings. On his latest record, the picture has never been clearer, and the musical direction that he takes to get there has never been more different or innovative than now.
From the very opening of this record, you know that this isn’t your everyday rap album. The backing track to Danny’s musings on the song “Downward Spiral” sounds like it belongs on a Joy Division album, a somber and thoughtful post-punk bass groove that doesn’t belong on any sort of rap or hip-hop album. And yet, despite the seemingly totally out of place instrumental, Danny flows and raps along the grooves flawlessly, creating an effect that I’ve never heard before in rap music. On this record this becomes a pattern: Instrumentals and backing tracks that don’t belong anywhere near rap music suddenly become totally sensible hip-hop beats when subjected to the twisted and absurdly creative artistic vision of Danny Brown. This album, if I had to choose one way to describe it, sounds like the future, and the future that Danny is displaying musically here is fascinating and otherworldly in a way that has never been done before.
That all having been said, Danny’s lyrics and songcraft here are also impeccable. Songs like “Rolling Stone” and “When It Rain” almost don’t have melodies at all, the primary “key” of the song being driven basically exclusively by low and heavy bass drones that accompany Danny’s frenetic and uncontrolled ramblings throughout. “Really Doe” is a singular musical highlight for the entire year, the best posse rap cut since, at least, A$AP Rocky’s “Fuckin’ Problems” in 2013. Featuring incredible verses from Danny himself, Ab-Soul, Kendrick Lamar (who also does the hook), and a punishing final verse from Earl Sweatshirt, all set to a haunting and atmospheric beat, “Really Doe” is an absolute must-listen for all hip-hop fans. Warning: you will almost definitely make multiple stinkfaces and yell “DAMN” several times while listening to this song for the first time. Don’t listen in public.
And then, he takes it even further. The songs “Ain’t It Funny” and “White Lines” can only be described with the word “wild”. These songs seemingly were recorded vocals first, with Danny rapping however the hell he pleases, and then crafting the backing beat and instrumentation around his vocals, using crazy and chaotic horns, insane and totally disjointed synths, and drum beats that stop and start as Danny does himself. This vocal-first approach to hip-hop is yet another musical tactic that Danny employs that is totally new, something that I’ve never heard done successfully before, and yet another invention that Danny Brown can and will hang his hat on as a true visionary in his genre.
This album is my Number One record of 2016 because it is the most musically game-changing album I’ve heard in some time. Danny’s subject matter is heavy and at times hard to listen to. As he says in the opening track “Your worst nightmare’s for me a normal dream”. Despite his chosen topics being challenging, Danny never fails to bring new musical ideas and innovations to the table on this record, and more than ever before, truly makes music that sounds like the thoughts of a broken and drug-addled mind come to life. Danny Brown is a visionary, and he’s bringing new facets, new techniques, and new sounds to the rap game. His music will not be platable for many, but he has more than earned my number one spot.
Blockbusters: Downward Spiral; Tell Me What I Don’t Know; Really Doe; Ain’t It Funny; White Lines; Pneumonia; When It Rain; Hell For It
Lacklusters: NONE
