2010 was a weird year. In the beginning, we had the last remnants of chillwave turn dark, morph into witch house, and create something kind of wholly unsettling, but pretty awesome. We had Vampire Weekend, Titus Andronicus, and the National all releasing stellar and completely different views on indie rock. During the summer, we got glimpses or full servings from rap heavy hitters like T.I., Big Boi, Kanye West and Lil Wayne. Now we're into 2011, and like last year, Racecar Brown is taking a look back at the year that was to determine the best songs and albums of 2010. Without further adieu, let's open the proceedings with Part One of the top 50 songs of 2010.
Hit the jump to see 50 through 41.
Hit the jump to see 50 through 41.
NUMBER FIFTY
Dominique Young Unique is seventeen years old. That's important. Not because her age recontextualizes the emotions of her music, but because only a seventeen-year old could get through "Show My Ass" without being fucking exhausted. There's barely a moment's pause over the track's three minutes. Unique spits machine-gun style over the beat, which seems determined to explore every electronic music genre of the past ten years, but still is unable to contain the young prodigy.
NUMBER FORTY-NINE
If Pigeons, the second record from Luke Temples' Here We Go Magic project, was a remarkable bit of forward movement from his self-titled debut, then "Collector" is the microcosm of that same effect. That spindly, circuitous guitar riff, those ramshackle drums, Temple's own voice which plays the line between genuine emotion and twee rather spectacularly. And that outro, where everything comes together, but never-- never-- stops moving.
NUMBER FORTY-EIGHT
Indie rock is not yet dead. If PS I Love You's Meet Me At the Muster Station proved anything, it was that. "2012" in particular explodes with guitar riffs, caterwauling vocals, and relentless percussion. The song is an exercise in struggling to contain your own intensity, with guitar riffs and Paul Saulnier's vocals barely restrained by the band's innate melodic sense. It's good to know guitars and drums can still do this.
NUMBER FORTY-SEVEN
Forget for a moment that this is a ghostly pseudo-cover of 1986 Ready for the World jam "Love You Down." It's only context; its only a background story about Tom Krell's fascination with R&B. In practice, it's like watching your own romantic failures play out on television, or finding out about a breakup through a Facebook status update: disconnected, but still emotionally evocative. Ethereal and beautiful, this is heartbreak music for the modern age.
NUMBER FORTY-SIX
That first line of "Pop the Trunk" is such a surprise: "Meth lab in the back and the crack smoke peels through the streets like a early morning fog." Words like that immediately transport you into Yelawolf's world, and that bone-rattling bass and those single piano notes serve as the minimalist black frame for Yelawolf's stark storytelling. Here, carrying guns in your trunk has its own shorthand and blood spilling is a daily occurrence. 'Bama.
NUMBER FORTY-FIVE
Evan Voytas' main musical gig is as part of Flying Lotus' live band. "I Took a Trip On a Plane" does little to reveal this, except to obtusely shine a light on the track's hidden depth. Check how the off-kilter drums sink into the emotional crevices, or how the bass' lag illustrates an underlying sadness in the melody. Some musicians stumble across melodies this timeless. With "Planes", it's equal parts serendipity and Voytas' deft songcraft.
NUMBER FORTY-FOUR
In a just world, the fact that Amanda Warner sings over sparse, slow-burn electronics wouldn't stop her from becoming one of pop music's leading ladies. The back alley synths and ugly drum machines that prevent Warner from stardom also counterpoint her sugar-sweet breakup talk in such a beautiful way that you almost want to keep her buried in the underground.
NUMBER FORTY-THREE
"Post-Dilla" became a buzzword in 2010, shorthand for wobbly drums and chopped up vocal samples. The best of the bunch was Manchester's Star Slinger, who was probably the one least concerned with staying within that wheelhouse. A song like "Mornin'" hits all of the major "post-Dilla" touchstones, but rises above that tag with the absolute clarity of the boom bap backing track, the beauty of those spliced strings, the passion of those girl group vocals.
NUMBER FORTY-TWO
It's not hard to hear Titus Andronicus when you listen to Andrew Cedermark's music. The brick wall production, the sneaky-good guitar leads, the balls-to-the-wall intensity, they're all hallmarks of Cedermark's former band. What the man adds in breaking away is a sense of rustic charm. In allowing rural melodies and front porch finger picking to creep in, Cedermark has created a New Jersey record less for Newark and more for Cape May County.
NUMBER FORTY-ONE
Making punk music sound fresh in 2010 is a difficult prospect. The very nature of the genre is simplicity, and it's been around now for roughly 40 years. There are only so many three chord punk songs one can listen to. The fact that "I'll Stand By Her" isn't just fresh, but goddamn vibrant, is a testament to the power of mile-a-minute guitars, the community of shout-a-long choruses, the beauty of economic bombasity.
Insanely diverse! Where's Wiz Khalifa?
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