Punks, drama queens, and art school weirdos led the way in 2019.
This list ended up pleasantly surprising me.
A lot of my favorite music of 2019 came from artists who I’d previously been unfamiliar with. As enjoyable and comforting it is to stick with familiar standbys, it’s exciting to come across something new that genuinely grabs your attention.
I’ll throw out a few albums that didn’t quite make the cut that I still found enjoyable, then a quick blurb on numbers 11–20, and finally more detailed looks at my top 10.
The ‘best of the rest’: ‘Western Stars’ by Bruce Springsteen; ‘Jaime’ by Brittany Howard; ‘American Football (LP3)’ by American Football; ‘Miss Universe’ by Nilufer Yanya; and ‘Vagabon’ by Vagabon.
20. “Ode to Joy”, Wilco
A more reserved Jeff Tweedy but, as always, plenty of ear-catching lyrics.
19. “Purple Mountains”, Purple Mountains
The late David Berman sounds restless yet peaceful on his last batch of songs.
18. “House of Sugar”, (Sandy) Alex G
Sounds like an entrancingly bizarre mix of Beck, Wilco, and Sufjan Stevens.
17. “I Need a New War”, Craig Finn
Few are better at writing songs that sound like they’re plucked from your own life.
16. “The Big Day”, Chance the Rapper
A mix of spirituality and down-to-Earth concerns on a grand scale.
15. “i,i”, Bon Iver
Justin Vernon sounds bigger and more intimate than ever before.
14. “U.F.O.F.”, Big Thief
As you’ll see below, Adrienne Lenker is an expert at digging into your bones with intimacy.
13. “I Am Easy to Find”, The National
Matt Berninger ceding the spotlight? Who would’ve thought it could work so well.
12. “Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest”, Bill Callahan
Callahan always manages to find peace even in his darkest realizations.
11. “All Mirrors”, Angel Olsen
A cinematic vision that examines the virtues of being alone.
10. “Father of the Bride”, Vampire Weekend
It turns out even a band like Vampire Weekend has to grow up eventually.
Even a decade after they burst onto the indie scene, it seems like Ezra Koenig and company haven’t been able to shed the label of preppy, Ivy League smart-alecks that they immediately became synonymous with.
But on Father of the Bride, the band’s first outing since 2013’s brilliant Modern Vampires of the City, the material sounds distinctly adult, not unlike the band itself.
Father of the Bride is also the first VW album since founding member Rostam Batmanglij’s departure. It’s a loss that can’t help but be felt in the music; there simply aren’t as many of the goosebump-inducing moments that litter Vampire Weekend’s earlier work.
But Batmanglij’s absence opens the door for new possibilities. With the album spread out over 18 tracks, there is a dizzying array of styles and moods at work, and the success rate is far more hit than miss.
There’s the usual VW fare, particularly the Paul Simon vibes found on “Harmony Hall” (one of the two tracks on which Batmanglij lended a hand), as well as the extremely Koenig lyrics on “This Life”: “Baby I know pain is as natural as rain/I just thought it didn’t rain in California.”
But you’ll also find new stylistic touches like the playful acoustic guitar on “Rich Man”, the semi-industrial “Sympathy”, the throwback psychedelia of “Sunflower”, and the Spanish-tinged waltz “Spring Snow”.
Koenig details a more reflective outlook on understated tracks like “My Mistake”, “2021”, and the quietly hopeful finale “Jerusalem, New York, Berlin.”
Father of the Bride finds Vampire Weekend trading in youthful exuberance for hard-earned wisdom. It’s not a bad tradeoff.
9. “Two Hands”, Big Thief
Big Thief feels like a band unstuck in time, in the best possible way.
What other group in 2019 has the talent or gumption to not only release two albums in less than five months, but have them both be really fucking good? It’s like binging a season of a TV show you love and then three weeks later, the new season arrives.
I wouldn’t put up much of an argument to anyone who prefers U.F.O.F., which came out in May, but I found that I’m a bit more partial to Two Hands, which seemingly came out of nowhere in October.
The two records have their own vibes, their own distinct atmospheres. But what they both share is the incredible Adrienne Lenker, who in the past couple years has established herself as one of the most enthralling voices in indie rock.
Lenker can just as easily shred you with a whisper as she can with a wrenching howl, and she does both with aplomb on Two Hands.
Running through indie, folk, country, electric, and acoustic with her tremendous compatriots, Lenker examines the damage — and the healing — that’s possible with our own two hands, and conversely what can happen to us at the hands of others.
The highlight of the album, and arguably of Big Thief’s career to date, is the searing “Not”. The song’s words — all spoken in the negative — come tumbling out of Lenker’s mouth like she’s rattling off an existential to-do list. And just when you think the tank is empty, you’re treated to a rip-roaring guitar outro that burns everything to the ground. It elicits a catharsis achievable in the span of a single song that very few artists are capable of.
It’s probably unreasonable to expect Big Thief to keep cranking out such great music at such a rapid pace — but if anyone’s capable of such a feat, it’s this band.
8. “When I Get Home”, Solange
Solange Knowles’ 2016 breakthrough A Seat at the Table was a startling rumination on prejudice and discrimination in modern America. Her follow up When I Get Home is much less easily defined.
Where A Seat at the Table was soul-baring, When I Get Home explores community, specifically Solange’s hometown of Houston, Texas.
As befits such a sprawling metropolis, this album is hard to pin down. Unlike its predecessor, there is no definitive thematic throughline; that’s something you have to discover for yourself.
That improvisational approach is reflected in the album’s construction. Solange embraces bold song structures, imbuing the mood of the album with a distinctly jazz bent. Tracks come and go in a flash. There are multiple interludes. The lyrics are not always linear, but they work to create a message that isn’t readily apparent at first glance.
Throughout these songs, Solange sorts through her scattered memories, feelings, and desires as if she’s wandering through a dreamscape version of Houston and the larger world.
It’s a challenging, ambitious work from an artist unafraid — eager, in fact — to tread new ground.
7. “Nothing Great About Britain”, slowthai
On the album-opening title track of Nothing Great About Britain, slowthai (born Tyron Frampton) declares, “I ain’t Dizzee/I’m just a boy in the corner.”
It’s an overt nod to the British grime legend Dizzee Rascal, but even though Nothing Great About Britain has many of the same musical trappings of the genre, slowthai imbues these songs with his own personality and life experience to reflect the issues that are ailing his country in the here and now.
The 24-year-old’s debut is biting and brutal, tender and heartbreaking, aloof and hilarious in its dispatches from a society on the verge of collapse. slowthai burns with the anger of someone who’s gotten the short end of the stick his whole life, and his delivery practically grabs you by the collar and demands that you pay attention.
The beats from head producer Kwes Darko are suitably heavy, but it’s slowthai’s storytelling that anchors the album.
The writing is incredibly dense and likely impenetrable for anyone unfamiliar with his Northampton upbringing. But slowthai’s delivery and passion are universal in any language, and his detail-oriented flow calls to mind the best work of The Streets and early Arctic Monkeys.
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Nothing Great About Britain is a shout of rage aimed at the institutions that generationally beat people down — only for all that struggle to create someone like slowthai.
6. “LEGACY! LEGACY!”, Jamila Woods
Every song on Jamila Woods’ stunning second album LEGACY! LEGACY! invokes the name of a titanic figure in black history: Betty Davis, Zora Neale Hurston, Miles Davis, Muddy Waters, James Baldwin. It’s quite the list to name check.
What Woods puts forth here makes her a worthy addition to those names. LEGACY! LEGACY! is the most uncompromisingly black album of 2019.
Beyond her music, Woods is a noted poet and community organizer in her native Chicago, and her bone-deep connection with the black community runs through every one of these songs.
LEGACY! LEGACY! is about connecting the various generations of black pain and hope to a vision of the future. Her invocations of her own ancestors carry as much weight as the cultural icons that bear the titles of these tracks.
But the album also hits home on a personal level: “I am not your typical girl” Woods proclaims on the urgent opener “Betty”. On “Giovanni”, she takes a stand for women through the ages, declaring, “I am not your rib/I am not your Eve.”
Self-love and acceptance are the ultimate goals for Woods and in turn her audience: “Who gonna share my love for me with me?” she asks on the neo-soul infused “Eartha”.
Woods is able to take in all the pain that defines her generational past and transforms it into a powerful statement for equality in the present.
5. “MAGDALENE”, FKA twigs
Pain is the source of a lot of great music. But it takes a special kind of strength to take pain and use it to put yourself back together.
In the five years since her revelatory debut album LP1, FKA twigs experienced multiple breakups, not to mention a serious medical procedure. All of that would be enough to leave anyone a little bit broken.
But on MAGDALENE, she confronts that personal trauma head-on and ends up delivering some of the most intensely emotional music of the year.
FKA twigs often finds herself alone on MAGDALENE, and as any one of us can attest, that feeling can be both a blessing and a curse.
The wrenching “Daybed” is an intimate depiction of solitude and depression, as FKA painstakingly describes every aspect of her surroundings and her existence because it’s what she spends all her time thinking about.
Listening to the music, you might also find yourself a bit lost, unable to come up with a way to come to terms with such detailed depictions of sorrow.
But confronting her pain allows FKA twigs to fully embrace her humanity and evolve into a stronger version of herself. Remarkably, she can make that transformation sound downright sultry on a track like “Mary Magdalene”, where she may or may not be seducing Jesus Christ himself.
That kind of bravado and passion in the wake of such personal turmoil is something that can’t help but be inspiring.
4. “Schlagenheim”, black midi
What to make of a band like black midi in the year 2019?
Even the most experimental rock bands for the most part adhere to the structures of successful music-making: verse-chorus-verse, a catchy single, a cohesive sound.
black midi’s debut album Schlagenheim has approximately none of that. That’s fine, because whatever it is, it fucking rocks.
Schlagenheim sounds more at home with the avant-garde punk of Captain Beefheart and the proggy weirdness of King Crimson than any other current band that comes to mind. The guitars screech and wail; the rhythms stop and start abruptly; the singing/speaking is almost unbearably sarcastic at times.
So why it does sound so great?
Probably because the British quartet of Geordie Greep, Matt Kwasniewski-Kelvin, Cameron Picton, and Morgan Simpson — all under the age of 21 — play off and with each other so brilliantly. Even when the guitars seem like they’re about to derail, a quick tempo change is there to center things. It’s the kind of bold musicianship you’d expect out of a much more experienced group.
Simpson’s virtuoso drumming is the key, as it dips into jazz, avant-garde, math rock, prog, and post-punk, but always swings and grooves, holding everything together.
The songwriting is as bizarre as the music: antisocial, schizophrenic, pretentious, angry (especially on “Near DT, MI”, an allusion to the water disaster in Flint).
Greep is the lead vocalist on six of the nine tracks, and he emits a wail that sounds like Ozzy Osbourne crossed with Don Van Vliet. He sounds fairly unhinged, to be frank, which is a way is really refreshing.
His performance on the terrifying, hilarious “bmbmbm” is one of the best of the year. Greep repeatedly riffs on the phrase “She moves with a purpose” — pronounced “PEAR-PUSS” — until he reaches David Byrne levels of ironic wit. And then it all explodes in a black hole supernova of crashing guitars and drums. It’s that rarest of things: something that sounds genuinely new.
There are people — probably a lot of them — who will probably flat-out dislike black midi. Fair enough. But they’ll be missing out on a group with a distinct vision and no pretensions about who they are, and the ability to blend decades of underground rock into their own distinct concoction.
If there’s one group that gives me hope for the future of rock, it’s black midi.
3. “Norman Fucking Rockwell!”, Lana Del Rey
Sweeping, intimate, hilarious, and heartbreaking, Norman Fucking Rockwell! is the moment when Lana Del Rey emphatically moved beyond the sad California white girl label.
Maybe that label was always unfair, and maybe you feel like she’d outgrown it before this point. But on these songs, she removes all doubt as to her status as one of pop’s truly great songwriters and musicians.
The thing about that self-absorbed West Coast ennui that makes up the Lana Del Rey experience — on this album anyway — is that not only does Del Rey not hide from it; she makes that shit sound extremely relatable.
Rockwell is a clear-eyed examination of the interior life of America in 2019 from the perspective of a young woman with uncommon talent.
“Your poetry’s bad and you blame the news,” she coos to her man on the album-opening title track. It’s a line and an attitude that sets the tone for the rest of the record, a firm acknowledgment and rebuke of the defeatist attitude that feels so prevalent these days.
To list all of the exceptional lines on Rockwell would take all day. Suffice it to say, there are very few songwriters operating at this level right now.
But what takes the album up a notch is Del Rey’s ingenious modern updates of classic 70s soft rock and FM radio staples. Album highlight “Venice Bitch” is a shining example, a nine-minute odyssey that starts out with soft acoustics but eventually morphs into a techscape of glitches and modern malaise, with Del Rey’s lyrics painting a portrait of the American girl circa 2019.
Norman Fucking Rockwell! had the feel of a classic right out of the gate. That feeling probably isn’t going to change in the years to come.
2. “Commit Yourself Completely”, Car Seat Headrest
I considered not even including this album on my list: it’s a live album full of mostly old material that doesn’t sound particularly groundbreaking. But these songs are just so damn good, and it’s my list, so suck it.
Minus a cover of Frank Ocean’s “Ivy”, there isn’t much new to see here from frontman Will Toledo. The other eight tracks are essentially a greatest hits from the band’s two most well-known records, Twin Fantasy and Teens of Denial.
You won’t hear any complaints from me.
Even though Toledo doesn’t do anything to deviate from what’s already been recorded, he doesn’t need to; the energy of these live shows — with a helping hand from members of Naked Giants — enhance every aspect of Car Seat Headrest’s best jams. The loud parts are louder, the soft parts are softer, and so on.
And honestly, these are songs of such quality that mixing things up would be overthinking it.
“Fill in the Blank” is given a skittering, Velvet Underground-esque update that somehow amps up the adrenaline; “Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales” has sweeping swings in emotion that also features some great audience singalongs; “Bodys” somehow sounds even more urgent and climactic than the studio version; and the 13-minute monster “Beach Life-in-Death” truly allows Toledo to shoot for the moon.
I’ve tried to fill this list with music that challenged and surprised me, and to an extent it does reflect that. But I’d be kidding myself if I said three years from now I was going to be listening to those other songs as often as these ones.
1. “Patience”, Mannequin Pussy
When you think of the kinds of music pushing the art form forward these days, punk isn’t one of the genres that springs to mind.
But here we have the Philadelphia punk quartet Mannequin Pussy and their third full-length album Patience, a 25-minute shot of pure adrenaline, full-throated rage, and surprising tenderness. This is take-no-prisoners music of the highest order that injects new life into a genre that feels like it’s been on the fringes for a while now.
Front and center is guitarist and singer Marisa Dabice, a firebrand who is able to strike a rare balance between anger and tranquility.
Dabice is at war with herself on Patience, equal parts wounded soul and world-destroying force. She embraces the weak, self-destructive part of herself on “Drunk II”, admitting, “I still love you, you stupid fuck.”
But on the flip side, “Who You Are” finds Dabice acknowledging her self-worth: “Look in the mirror, wish I was somebody else/Why?”
What’s refreshing about Patience in the context of modern punk is how it takes its composition so seriously. In punk music or any other genre, it so often seems like artists waste the opportunity to put out an attention-grabbing Track 1 like “Patience”, a two-minute missile of a song that grabs you by the hair and launches you into the stratosphere. It’s among the most exhilarating songs of the year.
The juxtaposition of concentrated bursts of rage like “Drunk I” and “Clams” with longer, more ambitious numbers like “Drunk II” and “High Horse” represents a shining example of how modern punk can function as parts of a whole.
Dabice even takes the radical step of ending things on a simple, positive note with “In Love Again”. Here, she sounds as thrilled as she is scared to feel happiness again. Proving she’s capable of growing beyond the hard-ass routine, she makes room for love. How many punk albums end with the line, “I’m in love with you”?
Explosive and empathetic, rousing and reassuring, Patience is music that reaffirms your belief that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
