The Best Tracks of 2015 (40-31)
Little Mix are personified machines of music, not that far removed from the underground obscurity of PC Music and J-Pop, the only difference really being target demographic. But âBlack Magicâ is endearingly refreshing. Thereâs a lot of music clogging up the top 40 that are not more than advertising slogans that sell the very essence of marketing, a missing void in your life. You will not be your complete self without product, relishing on insecurity and feasting on young impressionable brains. Meghan Trainorâs made a career out of telling girls what to do to get the attention of men. In this sense, Little Mix are taking the piss out of their whole industry. Through the bubblegum pop-perfected chorus, they make it sound âtoo easyâ to have everything; âboy you belong to me/Iâve got the recipeâ - yet destroy any notion of marketability through the notion that this cannot exist. âAnd itâs called black magicâ is another way of saying âfucked if I knowâ. Thereâs no instant gratification. "Black Magicâ is a complete condensation of all the good parts of 80â˛s bubblegum pop, with perfect instrumentation and an unstoppable vibe.
Life always gets in the way. You can go through weeks thinking you havenât made any progress, counting down the days until your inevitable demise (I espicially feel this way being on holidays from uni). Itâs hard to get out of this existential process, as deriving meaning out of nothing isnât impossible yet difficult. You can lose track of yourself, your identity in the meantime, feeling an emptiness that swallows you. Itâs this narrative that Kurt Vile so easily achieves an understanding with in âPretty Pimpinâ - an identity crisis triggered by seeing the days go past without introspection. Heâs not the first person to describe an existential crisis, yet he does it in such a naturalistic way, describing a sort of normality despite this crisis â which makes his writing so compelling.Â
âConstantly Hating [ft. Birdman]â
Barring Kanye West, Young Thug is the closest thing this generation has to a new David Bowie. His visual appearance is constantly changing, and his aesthetic is both challenging and brilliant. His sound is defiantly his own, while manipulating and warping other genres around his agency. His supreme singing/rapping voice is incredibly captivating, and âConstantly Hatingâ strips down the production outside this force to its very core, to a near trip-hop beat. Brilliant in how it depicts his state of mind, âConstantly Hatingâ is paranoid, confessional but also braggiodocios, itâs not really revealing, but it feels very personal. Young Thugâs feelings become our own, his âhustleâ being blended in with Birdmanâs (straight fire) verses depicting a love of this lifestyle, itâs not clear if Thuggerâs so sure.
âFeeling Myself [ft. BeyoncĂŠ]â
Everything about âFeeling Myselfâ is condescending. Out there are millions of working-class families, scrambling from each paycheck to make ends meet, and here are two women telling everyone how amazing they are. Yet itâs this obviously self-centered means that has an end - they donât really care, and theyâre going to celebrate themselves, or âfeel themselvesâ. For a song thatâs by-appearance about masturbation itâs easy to see why this song isnât a dick-measuring contest. Nicki more-or-less ridicules men, while boasting of her success, yet no one bats an eye to this, let alone derides her for having the nerve to put men down a peg. âHe in love with the co-coâ must be one of the most savage calls in hip-hop this decade.
Earlier this year Kevin Parker mentioned a euphoric feeling he felt listening to the Bee Gees under the influence, as each individual beat felt illuminated in itâs own massive power. Likewise, âReality in Motionâ is Kevin at his most anthemic. âThereâs no one else around youâ is as amazing a feeling as ever, and despite the title, never feels like reality.
âJust Like We Never Said Goodbyeâ
As âPRODUCTâ comes to an end, youâve just witnessed 7 songs terrifying in how they manipulate emotion into a vapid, soulless corporate machine, this track comes on. Instead of going for avant-garde experimental pop, SOPHIE shows a tinge of real connection in this final track. It might be cliched to say, but this is the first time SOPHIEâs lyrics could be seen as near-poignant. âJust like we never said goodbyeâ is described as a euphoric feeling, devoid of any alterior motive. Almost too great a love to be contained by its mechanic roots, and makes a point of their twisted irony, and what can really prevail.
âCome To Your Sensesâ
Noah Lennox isnât the first artist to deal with the fragility and finality of life, but no one has done it with this much panic. In 8 minutes, Lennox views his life on the outside, realising his life keeps moving forward without looking back. Itâs an enclosed array of anger, perspective and regret that makes âCome To Your Sensesâ so potent. Itâs almost like waking up from a drug trip youâve been on for a long time, only to realise reality isnât any less surreal and deranged. Lennox is a family man, he could be speaking about his children, his career or anything when he looks back on his âcreationsâ, itâs not something one would usually ponder - whether theyâd do it all over again, or even if they could. Yet, the song is almost joyous, or at least devoid of sorrow, heâs just asking himself if heâs mad. Itâs hard to say if even he knows.
It takes a huge amount of confidence to replicate My Bloody Valentine. For fear of appearing as a knock-off or pretentious, âSparksâ renders itself in classic Beach House mode. A slow, almost robotic, grazing guitar beat underlines the entire track, making it feel slowed down to almost vaporwave levels â yet this is where the emotion is culminated. This isnât a personality change for the band, but itâs relentlessly optimistic, pulling from a past and future to achieve a sense of timelessness.
Staples doesnât even care. Heâll appropriate that classical sound as his own weaponry, even daring to use the trap rap sound. And thatâs what âSenoritaâ is, a gigantic automatic weapon aimed at its listener. Desperately sad, Staples sees himself stuck in a corner, unable to escape â whether that be his fate, his community, from violence. The constant recurring âbrippâ shunted forward in the mix embellishes a sense of repetition, constant inability to escape. But thatâs also in the song, a beat that stirs its listener into a state of desolation â of course this hook is by Future, the master of blurry existence. Thereâs no focus in Vince Staplesâ world, juxtaposing the false reality embodied by the beat with his own perception, which isnât just about the black experience, but a paranoia for a future where there is no chance of redemption.
âCool For The Summerâ
Itâs safe to say Max Martinâs done it again. âTell me what you want/what you like/itâs okay/Iâm a little curiousâ. Itâs very self-explanatory - in this world of #feels, selfie sticks and shots of food itâs refreshing to see a pop song so endearingly earnest about its intentions. It doesnât want to change its listener, or even persuade it in some way. Itâs not really emotional in impcakItâs been two years since âSpring Breakersâ came out, not fully endorsing the very state of mind this song seems to condone, but its influence seems entirely apparent in every element of this song. While itâs not really envisioning any sort of future with the subject of the song, Lovato sings with a sort of optimistic hope, not just spurred on by the summer but also the electric energy a large amount of people can create. Both extraverted in appearance but introverted in ambition.
There will be a spotify playlist at the end of the countdown.
