But like Roger Troutman of Zapp and other funk pioneers of the past, Fetty used effects not to sanitize or correct his voice, but to inject even more emotion into it. And when the synths in the verses lurch like warm blood rushes of adrenaline, or arousal, Chris conveys a real-time sense of being overcome by acceptance for the first time.
In this way, Kendrick Lamar is an anomaly: As dense as his lyrics can be, he zooms out onto big ideas that are resonant and impactful to the masses. In the face of a growing, grinning wave of genocidal hate-speech delivered with the presidential seal of approval, Lamar shouts forth the steely confidence of a people ready to bark and bite back, standing on roots that run centuries deep.
Those big West Coast waves that Dora surfed half a century ago are rendered endless in the mesmerizing rhythm of the song. She coos sweet salutations into the receiver, he untangles verses about the terrors of opening up—be it the digital fear of unlocking your phone for a snoopy lover or the analog fear of sitting by, waiting, and having to bear your soul when the phone is finally answered.
It feels like two people figuring things out. No pyrotechnic breasts , psychedelic candy landscapes , or glow-in-the-dark alien abductions : just Katy, her ripped beau, and some similarly photogenic pals on a sepia-toned drive along the beach. At the time Perry recorded it, she was attempting to become more than a pop novelty. Meanwhile, she was midway through her 20s, about to get married, and entering a decade where her propensity for unsubtle gestures of positivity would fall in and out of fashion.
The popularity of the track led its makers to recoil from the spotlight and quietly switch off the TNGHT signal, which is fair enough. Who knew the shy producer from whispery indie rock trio the xx could also throw a great party? Young Thug and Popcaan]. A heartfelt tribute to a notoriously terrible brand of cigarettes became a career-making moment for Mac DeMarco. With his inaugural solo mini-album Rock and Roll Night Club , the Canadian singer established himself as a weirdo skeez with a shit-eating grin—a guy whose songs showed tons of promise if you pierced through the thick coats of deep-voiced, slow-motion gimmickry.
The unlikely love song ends with the sound of him lighting up, inhaling, and collapsing into a fit of echoing coughs. It sounds off at first, but as the strings quiver and the unquantized drums tick along, every instance of the word becomes a knowing wink, a flash of intimacy.
The song includes a spoken word intro in Spanish, along with violin, viola, contrabass, sitar, multiple guitars, horns, synths—even a Curtis Mayfield sample. With these words, Jordan builds a scarecrow outline of her relationship just to torch it all to the ground. For a virtuoso whose music explores the outer reaches of funk, yacht rock, and astral jazz, Thundercat has always shown a sensitive undercurrent.
In his first two solo albums, he slowed down a George Duke love anthem, sang adoringly about his cat, and composed a heart-wrenching tribute to a late friend.
Then, in an interlude, his trusty bass falls away and he sings some ethereal oooohs , pinpointing a sweet spot between boldness and fragility. This was the music video that launched a thousand pearl-clutching critiques, along with about as many think pieces about its radical significance. In it, Rihanna nonchalantly threatens her accountant with a phrase often wielded by men. In the process, she kidnaps and tortures his wife, before taking a chainsaw to his neck.
There are umteen ways to read into the politics of this video: What kind of violence are we sensitized to, and what makes us squirm? What does it look like for a woman to be powerful and angry while also being feminine?
How are white women complicit in and benefitting from the bad behavior of white men? But ultimately, determining whether this video is Good and Feminist or Bad and Cancelled is futile; what freedom looks like for any woman cannot be simplified into one set of rules. Since the storm hit, Segarra continuously tried to find her way back to her ravaged ancestral homeland in a way that would allow her to give without taking. She finally made it in December But Yorke never abandoned the studio version, eventually forgoing the experimental synthesizers and Rhodes piano he kept trying to make work in favor of soft piano chords.
May the gods protect the DJ who cut away from the weepy grand pianos before the beat change—that switch-up is the point, the gas pedal.
Then, for extra horror-core effect, he adds a blood-curdling scream every few bars. The three-part, minute hyperspace cruise through time, styles, and cool-eyed character observations offered monumental proof that he was capable of miracles.
Egyptian pharaohs, Las Vegas sex workers, uncredited John Mayer guitar solos—somehow, he made all of it sound like it belonged. When Japandroids frontman Brian King graduated college, he watched his friends from small town British Columbia, Canada quickly settle into normalcy—weddings, mortgages, babies—and thought, Well, fuck that.
So he started a band with drummer Dave Prowse and dreamed up a song about teenage abandon, blooming lust, and jumping out of bed to grab a beer with your best friend.
But the alliance that had seemed to foreshadow many more seasons of Cash Money primacy instead dissolved rather quickly, and all three artists have feuded with each other on and off ever since. Charli XCX is sonic science fiction. At her best, which she is here, Charli XCX cracks a key pop music code: doing as much with as little language as possible.
Kelela was an easy sell as an underground icon: Her vocals flexed with all the acrobatic skill her generation had learned from Janet, Brandy, and Mariah, while her style whet the palates of the ultramodern Opening Ceremony devotees who run the fashion world. The beats did the rest: The handclaps that drive the track forward are a call-to-action for hips and tongues across genres, from Miami bass to baile-funk to house, drenched in a synth-bed that sounds like a sunrise let-out from a Bed-Stuy afterhours club.
On the other end are pencil-sharp female rappers dragging the genre to new edges from behind cat-eye makeup. They aren't concerned with celebrating femininity, or anything else for that matter—they simply grab for your throat, no matter how you identify. Carefree nights have been poisoned by the constant threat of nuclear warfare; her beloved Malibu is ravaged by monstrous wildfires; nothing feels like it used to, and holding onto hope no longer seems plausible.
The end of the world has never felt so assured. For four heavenly minutes, the song suspends gravity, accompanying Jeremih with production as weightless as his voice: plinking pianos, gentle swooshes, and helium-infused trap drums that float toward blue sky like a bouquet of heart-shaped balloons.
But the Life of Pablo opener is a group effort: an imperiled Kelly Price, an ecstatic Chance the Rapper, a reverential Kirk Franklin, a gale-force choir. West seems to say. I know when to shut up. And yet Kanye is there, his friends are there, he fucks up and asks forgiveness, the seasons turn. What a difference a perfect pop song can make. For a moment, he was the most hated man-child on Earth. Then came this song, and everything changed. It started off as an affectingly whiny Bieber demo before the vocals were sent to Diplo and Skrillex, who tweaked and distorted and pitch-shifted them to match their future-pop dreams.
The result was discombobulating to the point of deliriousness—a reimagining of what Justin Bieber could be, and what a Top 10 hit could sound like. Justin Bieber]. A full year before the Supreme Court legalized gay marriage across the U. It begins abruptly with its sickly, skittish beat that sticks like a broken delete key.
Just as swiftly, the rapper starts dropping names of then-mysterious figures— Anwar , Jasper , Syd —as he inverts rap cliches into menacing quips.
You just want to follow this guy wherever he goes, even when he eats a cockroach in the video. Singing with hoarse gravity, Adele holds every note like a steely challenge to move forward even as she looks back, rarely flickering into melisma as the piano arpeggios churn below.
There are all these elongated sounds—slowly arching snares, spilt treacle synths, vocals that stretch into the horizon—that act as lines of tension, gently bracing themselves for the inevitable. But midway, after the introduction of a drumbeat and bassline, it takes on shades of trip-hop, as though filtering Patsy Cline through a Portishead prism.
Rather than leaving country behind, the songwriter has chosen to explore the limits of its territory, and to expand them.
He was just 15 years old when he posted the clip, but his weathered warble suggested someone several decades older—as do the lyrics, which had Marshall pulling from his adolescence while also transcending the simple angst typical of such an age.
But the original version, rough and raw and bracing, stands up best. In , we were introduced to Tough Drake. When you have everything, do you stay on your worst behavior forever? New York needed something fresh. But for a moment, his energy and personality brought New York hip-hop back into the spotlight. Hopelessness is not a common thing to find in a pop song. Of course. Lately, Rihanna has used her platform to speak out for a number of prominent causes: for reproductive rights , for Colin Kaepernick , against the president.
Calvin Harris]. Especially at the time, this rang very true. The Atlanta rapper had an enormous year in , with the release of his Drake collaboration What a Time to Be Alive along with one of his best albums, Dirty Sprite 2. Having reinvented himself so many times, his last musical effort was to bid farewell with that same grace and eternal curiosity.
Then all that remains is the man, staring straight into the unfathomable and having the wisdom to offer no answers. He cartwheeled through the track, singing in swooning howls, and in the process coining an inimitable sound that bottled the sensation of ecstatic liberation: whawp!
Swift tells a big story by freezing time and honing in on small details, the kind that could seem like background noise to others: the scarf that her ex reportedly, Jake Gyllenhaal kept as a memento, the refrigerator light that illuminated midnight dance parties.
As Staples slides from parties to shootouts, danger is courted and eluded. Death is defied and embraced. Gangster rap is disparaged; gangsters endure. Though every detail is in 4K, the screen flickers. The bass quakes and smolders; the synths blare and pulse; the claps tingle.
Because he sees his city so clearly, he has no illusions: No one can run forever. Only Natasha Khan remains by her side, and in her sweetest and deadliest ballad, she dedicates every ounce of her formidable self herself to propping up her lost friend. As the song slowly made its way toward ubiquity, eventually peaking at No. As a refreshing alternative, Guy and Howard Lawrence created a track bound to an indestructible house beat and filled with the types of chord extensions more commonly found in jazz or Steely Dan albums than standard chart fare, allowing for Sam Smith to unleash their jaw-dropping vocals.
Today, the song remains a testament to a brave new world of democratized production, one where two brothers, a laptop, and an unknown superstar can move the world. Sam Smith]. The song was released between two pivotal projects: four years after her album Sol-Angel and the Hadley Street Dreams , an almost quaint love letter to Motown, and four years before her culture-shifting political purge, A Seat at the Table.
Disoriented by the end of something irreconcilable, she sees her relationship devolve from all-night makeout sessions to total static. Since the dawn of time, women have been fed up with the patronizing antics of men in music. In , newfound fame was weighing on Kendrick Lamar. He delivered the message that Compton—and everyone else—could put their faith in him. It is almost unfair how irresistibly danceable this song is, how it articulates a desire for closeness while laid over the kind of sparse but infectious beat that practically demands bodies shifting together.
Navigating romance publicly comes with being a public figure—which can be good when it is good, and agonizing when it is agonizing. Ariana Grande has had to do this through several iterations of her career, in ways that have sometimes felt unfair. All this came to a head in the fall of , when she was mourning both the death of her ex-boyfriend Mac Miller and a broken-off engagement to Pete Davidson.
The song itself works against the somewhat dismissive sentiment of the title: The twinkling chorus is steeped in a kind of corny but joyful gratitude, for the past but also for the present self.
Crooning angelically, Grande reminds the masses that we choose to love people for a reason, even if that love is brief. No more trivial accusations of retrofetishism or John Lennon idol worship; with this heavy slab of space disco, Parker decidedly broke free of any preconceived notions about his abilities. The riff—a simple, octave-leaping groove—stands alone, but the punchy drums and elaborate synth arrangements throughout cleared the stage for Tame Impala to claim their place as true psych-rock originals.
But in our actual reality, Karin and Olof Dreijer got dark with their classic Silent Shout before making their grand return seven years later by inhaling radical theory and fully metamorphosing into their namesake—something steely, cutting, dangerous when necessary.
It primes you to leave it all on the dancefloor before waking up ready to throw a brick through the patriarchy. But her character shows no bitterness for the girlfriend in question.
Instead, she gently coaches her lover through breaking up with the other woman, urging him to spare her feelings. Over a reassuring backdrop of organ and piano, her voice gathers strength as she is swept away in a flood of images, words so vivid you can feel them beating in your hand like small, frightened birds.
Buddy Hield has connected on more 3-pointers through his first games than any player in NBA history. Michael Jordan was beside himself watching Kelly Oubre shoot a 3-pointer instead of run clock.
Penn State Twitter was an unpleasant place to be for James Franklin after a loss to Michigan, 4th loss in 5 games. A rear wing infraction deletes Hamilton's lap yesterday, leaving him to start last in today's spring qualifying race. World champion Lewis Hamilton on Friday dominated qualifying at the Brazil Grand Prix but then found himself facing demotion to the back of the grid for Saturday's sprint race after Mercedes were placed under investigation for a potential breach of technical rules.
A chaotic end to the game, Brian Asamoah's big day and other headlines from Oklahoma's loss to Baylor on Saturday. Paris Hilton was the most beautiful bride! Kathy Hilton's daughter married Carter Reum at a Los Angeles estate on November 11, and her dresses that's right — she wore multiple were nothing short of jaw-dropping. With a high neck and long sleeves, the lacy couture was capped off with a dramatic veil. Valerie Loureda was ecstatic to get back into the win column — and danced in celebration to show it.
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I'm now planning to get one on my wrist. When that ear is attached to Bassnectar, the answer is "too many to count. It's got a tribal trap thing going on that makes our hips do weird and wonderful things, but it's the jingle bells at the mark that really take this thing over the edge of delightful insanity.
Listen to it below. Buddy Hield has connected on more 3-pointers through his first games than any player in NBA history. Michael Jordan was beside himself watching Kelly Oubre shoot a 3-pointer instead of run clock.
Penn State Twitter was an unpleasant place to be for James Franklin after a loss to Michigan, 4th loss in 5 games. A rear wing infraction deletes Hamilton's lap yesterday, leaving him to start last in today's spring qualifying race. World champion Lewis Hamilton on Friday dominated qualifying at the Brazil Grand Prix but then found himself facing demotion to the back of the grid for Saturday's sprint race after Mercedes were placed under investigation for a potential breach of technical rules.
A chaotic end to the game, Brian Asamoah's big day and other headlines from Oklahoma's loss to Baylor on Saturday. Paris Hilton was the most beautiful bride!
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