In music, there’s a lot that can be said without ever uttering a single word, and 2019 turned out to be an excellent example of the many ways in which that idea can be borne out. Of course, there are genres where a lyrical no-fly zone is the norm, like jazz, classical, and electronic, so it’s no surprise to find some of the year’s most ear-catching instrumental tunes coming from those quarters (and you will indeed encounter a couple herein). But even in the realms of rock, funk, and folk, where most of the time, vocals are a given, 2019 produced a number of tracks where either the singer stuffs a sock in it or there isn’t one to begin with.
You might think that corralling cuts from all across the stylistic spectrum like this would result in a playlist with only slightly less schizophrenia than a double feature of Shine and A Beautiful Mind and that the disparate genres would wind up sounding incongruent. But that’s not the case at all. Maybe there’s something about the absence of the human voice that normalizes these tunes’ unexpected tumbles into each other.
When the neo-psychedelic guitar frenzy of Chris Forsyth segues into the minimalist avant-jazz of trumpeter Steph Richards, or the elegant, solo acoustic-guitar tapestries of Michael Chapman bump up against the tinkling electronic manipulations of Sarah Louise, and then that segues into the beyond-category madness of TOOL, it ought to feel as if you’re following a circuitous path, but it doesn’t. By the time the syncopated funk grooves of Lettuce give way to the flesh-tearing punk-jazz melee of Blacks’ Myths with a surprising degree of ease, you’ll have long since stopped worrying about genre distinctions and settled into some of the most intoxicating wordless wonders of 2019.
What’s This Playlist All About? Stereogum’s senior news editor Chris DeVille rounds up the decade’s most memorable flashes in the pan. He doesn’t use the most scientific of formulas to determine what makes a one-hit wonder, especially since a few of the artists on the list technically landed on the charts with more than one song (such as Foster the People). Still, the playlist gives an interesting overview of some of the unexpected sounds and pop phenomena (hello, PSY) that helped define the 2010s.
What You Get: A scattered compilation of synth-pop pleasures, EDM-rock anthems, and bass-y rap bangers, along with a Canadian reggae groove (MAGIC!’s “Rude”), a soul-powered indie-rock jam (Portugal. The Man’s “Feel It Still”), and the unstoppable Puerto Rican triumph “Despacito.” Plus, a reminder of the decade’s many novelty dance tracks: We learned how to “Dougie,” filmed ourselves doing the “Harlem Shake,” and witnessed world leaders getting down to “Gangnam Style.”
Best Pick: Probably the most definitive one-hit wonder of the decade came from Australian outlier Gotye, whose indie breakup gem “Somebody That I Used to Know” embedded itself into the American consciousness with its punchy global-pop groove and sugary-sweet appearance by New Zealand singer/songwriter Kimbra. Gotye won three GRAMMY® Awards for the song and the album it appeared on (Making Mirrors), but he thereafter mostly retreated into obscurity, even turning down millions in royalties with YouTube, as DeVille points out. Still, we think he has way more in him, and we’re kind of hoping he makes a comeback in the 2020s.
Who Deserves Better Than the One-Hit Wonder Tag? English synth-pop darling La Roux kicks off the playlist with the bouncy “Bulletproof” for good reason: It’s one of the most infectious tracks of the decade. It actually came out in 2009, but it peaked on the Billboard Hot 100 in June 2010 and encapsulates the decade’s obsession with ’80s electro glossiness. La Roux ended up with a few other international hits from that album, including “In for the Kill,” but singer Elly Jackson’s time in the American spotlight was far too short. Here’s hoping she’ll pick up the pace in the 2020s, starting with the third La Roux album, Supervision, set for release in February.
The ’90s have never sounded better than they do right now—especially for modern-day indie rockers. There’s no shortage of bands banging around these days whose sound suggests formative phases spent soaking up vintage ’90s indie rock. Not that the neo-’90s sound is itself a new thing. As soon as the era was far enough away in the rearview mirror to allow for nostalgia to set in (i.e., the second half of the 2000s), there were already some young artists out there onboarding ’90s alt-rock influences. But more recently, there’s been a bumper crop of bands that betray a soft spot for a time when MTV still played music videos and streaming was just something that happened in a restroom. In this context, the literate, lo-fi approach of Pavement has emerged as a particularly strong strand of the ’90s indie tapestry, and it isn’t hard to hear echoes of their sound in the work of more recent arrivals like Kiwi jr. or Teenage Cool Kids. Cherry Glazerr frontwoman Clementine Creevy seems to have a feeling for the kind of big, dirty guitar riffs that made Pacific Northwestern bands the kings of the alt-rock heap once upon a time. The world-weary, wise-guy angularity of Car Seat Headrest can bring to mind the lurching, loose-limbed attack of Railroad Jerk. And laconic, storytelling types like Nap Eyes stand to prove that there’s still a bright future ahead for those who mourn the passing of Silver Jews main man David Berman. But perhaps the best thing about a face-off between the modern indie bands evoking ’90s forebears and the old-school artists themselves is the fact that in this kind of competition, everybody wins.
It may be that 2019 was the best year for ’90s metal since, well, 1999. Bands from the decade of Judgment Night re-emerged with new creative twists and tweaks: Tool stretched out into polyrhythmic madness, Korn bludgeoned with more extreme and raw despair, Slipknot added a new drummer (Max Weinberg’s kid!) who gave them a new groove, and Rammstein wrote an anti-fascism anthem that caused controversy in Germany (and hit No. 1 there too). Elsewhere, icons of the era returned in unique ways: Nine Inch Nails’ Trent Reznor scored a superhero TV series, Primus’ Les Claypool teamed up with Sean Lennon for some quirky psych rock, and Faith No More’s Mike Patton made an avant-decadent LP with ’70s soundtrack king Jean-Claude Vannier. Finally, the soaring voice of Linkin Park’s Chester Bennington returned for a moment thanks to Lamb of God guitarist Mark Morton, who released a song they recorded together in 2017.
Taking a look at the playlists for my show on Boston’s WZBC might give the more seasoned college-radio listener a bit of déjà vu: They’re filled with bands like Versus, Team Dresch, and Sleater-Kinney, who were at the top of the CMJ charts back in the ’90s. But the records they released in 2019 turned out to be some of the year’s best rock. Versus, whose Ex Nihilo EP and Ex Voto full-length were part of a creative run for leader Richard Baluyut that also included a tour by his pre-Versus outfit Flower and his 2000s band +/-, put out a lot of beautifully thrashy rock; Team Dresch returned with all cylinders blazing and singers Jody Bleyle and Kaia Wilson wailing their hearts out on “Your Hands My Pockets”; and Sleater-Kinney confronted middle age head-on with their examination of finding one’s footing, The Center Won’t Hold.
Italian guitar heroes Uzeda—who have been putting out proggy, riff-heavy music for three-plus decades—released their first record in 13 years, the blistering Quocumque jerceris stabit; Imperial Teen, led by Faith No More multi-instrumentalist Roddy Bottum, kept the weird hooks coming with Now We Are Timeless; and high-concept Californians That Dog capped off a year of reissues with Old LP, their first album since 1997. Juliana Hatfield continued the creative tear she’s been on this decade with two albums: Weird, a collection of hooky, twisty songs that tackle alienation with searing wit, and Juliana Hatfield Sings the Police, her tribute record to the dubby New Wave chart heroes (in the spirit of the salute to Olivia Newton-John she released in 2018). And our playlist finishes with Mary Timony, formerly of the gnarled rockers Helium and currently part of the power trio Ex Hex, paying tribute to her former Autoclave bandmate Christina Billotte via an Ex Hex take on “What Kind of Monster Are You?,” one of the signature songs by Billotte’s ’90s triple threat Slant 6.
