This playlist from Beatport imagines the perfect 10 tracks for a sunrise set at Berlins legendary Panorama bar. As you can imagine, these tracks are bright, anthematic excursions into deep house, nu-disco and funky house, and include Omar S, Pépé Bradock and Todd Terje.
Beatport Editorial Director Jack Tregoning reports on the songs that rocked the first day of the 2015 iteration of Detroits legendary Movement festival. There are some gems in there!
Nineteen-seventy-seven was a year of styles congealing and pointing beyond themselves, musical moments coming into focus and then, just as quickly, getting blurry. Four decades later, this single year of music continually haunts us with its greatness through deaths and rebirths, reissues, and reunion tours. With the Sex Pistols’ Never Mind the Bollocks…, the Ramones’ Rocket to Russia AND Leave Home, and The Clash’s self-titled album, it was a major year for punk; through Television’s Marquee Moon and Wire’s Pink Flag, we glimpsed the dawn of post-punk. And I, for one, still don’t know what to call Iggy Pop’s dual masterpieces from that year, The Idiot and Lust for Life, two records that strayed far enough outside the conventions of rock, proto-punk, and post-punk that they should maybe just be left under the art-rock banner. Likewise, Suicide’s ghostly, self-titled classic could be called anything from proto-punk to post-punk to synth-pop; its mercurial nature only amplifies its staying power as we continue to struggle to digest it in light of Alan Vega’s 2016 death.Also along the lines of the weirder, more avant-garde pop: David Bowie (who produced Iggy Pop’s two releases from that year) dropped Berlin-trilogy classics ”Heroes” and Low—the latter produced by Brian Eno, whose own Before and After Science came out that December. These records, alongside Talking Heads: 77, Kraftwerk’s Trans-Europe Express, and Elvis Costello’s debut LP, My Aim Is True, pointed clearly and forcefully toward the New Wave of the ‘80s.Nineteen-seventy-seven also saw rock continuing to explode into a vast diaspora of sub-genres: disillusioned folk rock (Neil Young’s American Stars ‘n Bars, Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours), politicized prog rock (Pink Floyd’s Animals), country-inflected jam rock (Grateful Dead’s Terrapin Station), smooth jazz rock (Steely Dan’s Aja), and whatever you’d call Billy Joel’s The Stranger. (Oh yeah, and John Williams’ Star Wars: Episode IV — A New Hope soundtrack came out.)This (incomplete, to be sure) list has probably inspired thoughts of nostalgia, as well as, possibly, some feelings of melancholy about the music of our own time. If strong opinions about any of these records have surfaced, it’s because 1977 is still very alive today. The year still guides the rock we make, and it still infiltrates our playlists. The political and social issues of 1977 still, in many ways, exist, and we still struggle to respond to them in ways that are appropriate and meaningful. This playlist isn’t going to change the world, but if it leads to a new way of understanding the present, that’s a good thing. Or, if you just jam out to it while cleaning your house or going for a run, that’s fine, too.
1992 was a transitional year for R&B and hip-hop. The first wave of bass was coming to an end, New Jack swing was beginning to wane, and East Coast and mainstream hip-hop had yet to transition between the golden age of the ‘80s and the boom bap of the mid-90s. One era hadn’t quite ended, and another hadn’t quite begun, and there was a bit of schizophrenia; the charts were populated by Southern rap bohos (Arrested Development), and Northwestern rappers who appropriated the sound and subjects of Miami bass. This truly awesome playlist by Spotify user John Cunningham is interesting because it captures this dynamic and operates from a very specific critical perspective and rejects the usual nostalgia associated with these type of playlist. It also really bangs. His original playlist was originally named simply “B96,” and we cleaned the title up a little bit to be more descriptive.
What’s This Playlist All About? The folks at WXPN, the member-supported radio service of the University of Pennsylvania, set out to prove that 1993 was one of the most important years in music with a list of over 50 pieces of evidence.What You Get: Alt-rock’s biggest mainstream success stories (Nirvana, Pearl Jam, The Breeders) collide with groundbreaking hip-hop (Wu-Tang Clan, Souls of Mischief, A Tribe Called Quest) and R&B (Janet Jackson, Me’shell Ndegeocello). You also get a healthy taste of the bubbling indie-rock underground (Yo La Tengo, Archers of Loaf, Bettie Serveert), as well as landmark works from now-icons like Bjork and PJ Harvey.Best Surprise(s): Two one-hit wonders—US3’s “Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia)” and Crash Test Dummies’ “Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm”—may be the best examples of how wonderfully weird and all-inclusive the year 1993 really was.So, Was 1993 the Greatest Year in Music? While there are arguably some definitive moments captured here, not too many of these songs stand out as the GOAT of anything. Still, we have to admit the playlist creators make a compelling case, proving that 1993 was quite a watershed year for a wide range of genres. It was a year you could find just about anyone moping to Mazzy Star, thrashing to Dinosaur Jr., swaying to Janet, and rapping with Snoop Doggy Dogg all in one setting—and that’s pretty incredible.
It’s been said that the defining sounds of a particular decade don’t truly take hold until the midway point, be it Motown and psychedelia in the ’60s, punk and disco in the ’70s, or hip-hop and hair metal in the ’80s. However, the ’90s turned that theory on its head. Its big-bang moment—Nirvana’s Nevermind—occurred very early in the decade, sending shockwaves through the mainstream and underground alike, and transforming “alt-” into an all-purpose badge of outsider cool that could be affixed to anything from country to hip-hop. Kurt Cobain punched out in ’94, but the ripple effects that his band triggered continued to cascade in his absence, and 1995 was the year the alt-revolution hit its peak.
It was the moment when Dave Grohl discovered there was life after Nirvana; Radiohead realized they could be so much more than a post-grunge U2; iconoclasts like Björk and PJ Harvey dropped defining works; Alanis Morissette and Garbage pushed edgy feminist pop into the Top 40; and Oasis, Elastica, and Pulp provided the soundtrack to Britpop’s halcyon days. It was also arguably the last era when certified weirdos like Royal Trux, Mercury Rev, and Mike Watt could be given free rein on a major-label budget, and the last moment when one could credibly hold on to the sincere beliefs that Pavement had crossover potential and Sonic Youth was a logical Lollapalooza headliner. It was also a particularly glorious moment for one-hit wonders that wouldn’t have broken through in any other era, like Hum’s “Stars” and Spacehog’s “In the Meantime.”
But there was ample evidence that grungy guitar rock’s dominance of alterna-culture was on the wane: The debuts of No Doubt and blink-182 signaled a shift toward more palatable pop-punk; The Pharcyde, The Roots, and the Wu-Tang were inspiring teens to trade their flannels for backpacks; and the likes of Moby, The Chemical Brothers, and Goldie were turning stage-divers to ravers. In hindsight, the year portended the era of fragmentation we currently inhabit, as what initially felt like a generational movement became corporatized or broken down into subcultural niches. But with this playlist of 95 from ’95, we present a virtual mosh pit where freaks of every stripe are forever welcome.
Subscribe to the Spotify playlist right here.Dark music is often defined by an instrumentalist’s skill: guitarist Dave Mustaine’s mastery of his six-string made Megadeath legends, the controlled metallic baritone of Nine Inch Nail’s Trent Reznor put mall-goth on the map. These particular manipulations are amplified in noise music insofar as they are changed, strained, crushed and elongated. By definition the genre is contradictory—how is noise, music?—and as a result, challenges thinking about silences. When looped vocal techniques are distorted, feedback is allowed to prosper, static is treated as an instrument—what is made? This year has been especially interesting for noise—in Puce Mary’s “Night is a Trap ll” Frederikke Hoffmeier’s twisted speakerphone vocals mimic the sounds of an industrial explosion around her; Bruxa Maria’s “Human Condition” acts in discordance with every element in its songwriting, Gill Dread’s high-pitched holler placed below the sounds of sharp saws running unmanned. Far removed from their powerelectronics are the ambient, animalistic found sounds of David Toop’s “For a Language to Come,” and the Wagnerian haunt of The Stargazer’s Assistant. In 2016, a year filled with noise politically and otherwise, a genre embraces the pandemonium.
Im not sure if Duran Duran were a minor band disguised as a major one, or vice versa, but they did have a handful of really catchy songs, and playing a saxophone on a raft is a boss move. One thing is certain though: Metro UK is a pretty minor publication, and ranking "Ordinary World" over "Rio" is complete bullshit. Still, here are a few great tracks from this these 80s kings.
Full disclosure: I contributed to this list, and while I have my quibbles with it -- "NBA Rap"? Nah -- I think its a fairly good primer on early West Coast rap. That scene is all the rage thanks to the overhyped Straight Outta Compton movie, and viewers who enjoyed that biopic will find more avenues to explore here. At the very least, its a good excuse to revisit Rodney O & DJ Joe Cooleys "Everlasting Bass." -- Mosi Reeves
Source: ComplexFor those of you not attuned to the fast-moving tastes of rap blogs, most of these names will ring unfamiliar to you. And to be frank, theres nothing wrong with that, since these up-and-comers are in their woodshedding phase. Boogies The Reach has drawn critical acclaim and a deal with Republic/Interscope, while fellow UMG signee Post Malone seems like the proverbial industry plant. Nef the Pharoahs "Big Tymin" has dominated the San Francisco Bay Area all summer; and D.R.A.M.s "Cha Cha" has inspired countless Vine memes and a thinly-veiled Drake homage. Good hunting.