Kith & Kine chooses the tracks and albums that soundtracked 2015
(A version of this appears at Kith & Kine.)
My good friend Keith, who is quite passionate about music, told me he was struggling to come up with a top anything in terms of albums in 2015. I find this fascinating. Ok, he loves the Janet Jackson album (which is a very fine album indeed, even the Guardian thinks so) but beyond that, little floated his boat enough to warrant a write up in a Top 5.
I suggested that this might be because, with Spotify and Apple Music, he has pretty much everything available all the time and with a demanding job, long commute and everything else, he just hasn’t had the luxury of auditioning new albums and giving them a chance to make a case for being part of his life.
As opposed to smug ol’ me. I’ve shelled out a few hundred (gasp) on vinyl based on its tactile loveliness and coloured limited editions and the like. I know the sound isn’t really any different but it’s a bit of an experience, a commitment. I bought the Mykel Cronin album based on the in-store promotion in Rough Trade (and the assurances of the pretty hot muscled security guy), but I don’t love it. But because I spend £20 on it on vinyl, I gave it a chance. A few chances. It’s fine, but not for me. I gave it a proper go because the vinyl made me commit. Yet the Father John Misty album intrigued then annoyed then infuriated then seduced me — I believe this rollercoaster relationship was less likely to blossom had I not shelled out £21.99 for the privilege.
Unlike Keith, I felt that 2015 offered an embarrassment of quality albums and tracks. Whittling these down to ten tracks and five albums was weird, awkward and unfair. But here you are…
Singles
1. Silence — Jack O’Rourke
At first it sounds sad that a 20-something young man would write such a tragic song that might demonstrate that little has changed since Jimmy Somerville’s plaintive ‘Smalltown Boy’ in 1984. Its sadness is so at odds with the celebrations on the streets of Dublin in May (and captured so magnificently in The Queen of Ireland). But don’t let that put you off, it’s a magnificent piano ballad, bursting with melody and emotion. Perhaps it speaks to the generations of gay men and women that remember what it was like before decriminalisation and acceptance -that a relative tot such as Jack O’Rourke can capture that guarded sentiment points to a particularly empathetic talent. And a hell of a musical one too.
2. Loud Places — Jamie xx
It’s not the first time the huge chorus of Idris Muhammed’s ‘Could Heaven Ever Be Like This’ has been sampled. The track’s euphoric hook lends itself well to the club track with a bit of spirituality. Hence it fits like a warm glove as Romy (The xx) ’sings’ in her low key way about going to ‘loud places to search for someone to be quiet with/who will take me home.’
As we’ll see with Brandon Flowers’ sampling a Bronski Beat track later; ain’t nothing like a sample to not only give a track context, but also to render that meaning in vivid 4K surround bold italic.
3. I Can Change — Brandon Flowers
Torn between the jittery 80’s production of lead single, ‘Can’t Deny My Love’, I’ve plumped for this 80s production instead. While the Bronski Beat sample may be gimmicky to some, I imagine this as a message from the future back to 1984, with a straight, handsome American rocker telling the fearful Scottish small town boy that a lot of things will go very right indeed in the next thirty years.
Sample aside, it’s a big gorgeous, romantic electronic pop song with a plaintive vocal and a zillion hooks.
4. Younger — Seinabo Sei
One of the 2015 wunderkind producers, Kygo, did a remix of this track which almost managed to get into the charts. Kygo has brought a couple of superb ‘tropical house’ tracks to the charts under his own name (‘Firestone’ is particularly lovely), but in this case, ‘Younger’ really didn’t need much work so I’m going with the original.
Proper Epic Pop Thrill Moment: when it all kicks off at 2:54.
Another case of a far-too-young person demonstrating wisdom. What’s up with kids these days?
5. Perfect Ruin — Kwabs
Always tricky to get the balance right for a contemporary ballad. London’s Kwabs manages to pull it off and make it sound maybe not effortless but certainly assured. This is admirable because the song manages to very comfortable straddle the middle bit of the Venn diagram where ‘emotional’, ‘melodic’, ‘lush’, ‘smart’, ‘credible’, ‘accomplished’ and ‘young’ coincide. It didn’t quite manage the pop chart crossover but that’s not the be all and end all that it used to be for an act like Kwabs.
Kwabs was born in 1990. Jesus…
6. The Night Believer — Mew
I’ll go into Mew a bit more later but for now let’s enjoy an almost straightforward four-minute pop song from the proggypop Danes. Guest vocals from Kimbra (of ‘Somebody That I Used to Know’ fame). Note: I’m in this video — along with 999 other “Frengers’, as Mew’s crazy fans are called. *curtseys*
7. Call It Off — Shamir
A whip smart piece of electronic pop that makes me want to wiggle my arse. Making one want to wiggle one’s arse is usually quite enough to ask of a pop song these days, but Shamir packs this with personality and smarts. Oh and the video is a hoot.
8. Can’t Feel My Face — The Weeknd
Another oh-so-2015 track from an oh-so-2015 pop star. Much like Lana Del Rey, The Weeknd is less about Abel Tesfaye and more about a constructed persona. Introduced at an Apple launch, ‘Can’t Feel My Face’ brought The Weeknd the globe-straddling audience I’m a little surprised he could handle. But while the track is connected to his coke-dusted ennui persona, it’s a catchy-as-fuck Michael Jacksony groove with atmosphere and enough edge to wisthstand repeated listens. Which is handy seeing as it’s bloody everywhere…
9. Hotline Bling — Drake
Blah blah meme blah blah would have been no. 1 except for Adele blah blah Drake. Once again Drake’s ear for pairing his flat rap/singing to a fantastic sample (Timmy Thomas’ plaintive ‘Why Can’t We Live Together’ from 1972) cuts through all the guff and we end up with a bonafide ‘Hit of 2015’.
10. Cool Kids — Echosmith
A dumb minor one-hit wonder in January, ‘Cool Kids’ conjures up the essence of the also-ran. It’s melodic, understated, hooky and desperately sad. Therefore in terms of ‘music sounding like computers crying’, it’s perfect. It’s so HappySad.
11–50. The rest…
Here’s a Spotify playlist with these and another 40 goodies…
Albums
1. Carrie & Lowell — Sufjan Stevens
I wanted Mew. Really.
I did not want to choose Indie darling Sufjan’s latest as my album of the year. To hell with him, he gets enough praise. But this is an album that held firm despite all challenges. It dared me over the year to fault it and I couldn’t. But more than that, it quietly broke my heart, made me cry and made me jealous of another’s obscene talent.
Enough about me. Next to this beautiful, self-contained, universal collection, who gives a toss what any of us think?
Once again, Sufjan brings heartbreak in 45 minutes. On hiatus since 2010’s ‘radical departure’ The Age of Adz, Stevens’ return was another stylistic backflip; this time bringing a low-key distance to a very emotional theme (the death of Carrie, his mother in 2012) to nuclear effect. The almost numb, contained delivery is paradoxically devastating. Like almost all of his albums, it works best as a cohesive whole yet any track by itself slays; take ‘Fourth of July’ or ‘Should Have Known Better’, I mean, Jesus Christ….
And apart from the emotional punch, it has tunes to spare AND is sonically inventive. You’d think he was just showing off if it wasn’t for how raw and real the whole thing is.
Interestingly 30% of sales of this album were on vinyl as of July 2015.
2. + - — Mew
From the tiny and intimate to the widescreen, joyous ambition of Mew. + -, Mew’s 4th ‘proper’ album, is as gloriously huge as the the previous three but perhaps with a little less indulgence of multiple time-signatures and impenetrable lyrics. The whole thing still screams ambition and verve and yields the most magnificent hooks on multiple listens. The critics loved it (apart from an almost comical half-arsed review from the Guardian) and so they should. A triumph of imagination, craft and all-too-welcome bonkersness.
Mew first popped onto my radar in 2005 when I took a punt on And the Glass Handled Kites (a half-remembered review and £10 quid from Fopp encouraged me to look at the terrible sleeve with a bunch of no-nonsense looking women using Microsoft Paint and give them a go). Four albums later, Mew perform their final gig of he year in London and leave me a bit emotionally spent. I realise how grateful I am for serendipity.
3. Ordet — Bremer/McCoy
Imagine renting a classy, chic bachelor pad in Copenhagen in September. The design is Scandi-immaculate; the mood lighting suggesting that the hygge is imminent. You walk in and jazzy, melodic instrumentals play on vinyl in the background, drawing attention to the vintage B&O turntable. It’s chilled, chic, hip and effortless. And it’s a true story.
4. At The End of a Winding Day — Hedge Schools
We music fans are committed, but impatient. Can we hang about waiting for Scritti Politti, The Avalanches and the Blue Nile to get their acts together and pull out another album after all these years? So we wait and, as an happen, others sneak in to fill the void. We are forced to embrace new favourites and perhaps reappraise our supposedly unwavering love of our less prolific artistes.
I’m not sure anyone else has softened the wait for sophisticated angular pop or dense sampled soundscapes, but Ireland’s Hedge Schools certainly sneaked in with a bid for sparse, emotive, aching music for grown ups. Let’s not compare them to the Blue Nile as Patrick Barrett and Joe Chester of The Hedge Schools have quietly, delicately crafted their own immaculate classic.
5. At Least For Now — Benjamin Clementine
When I walked in on his supporting performance for Woodkid in Brixton in 2013, this gangly hybrid of Antony Hegarty and Nina Simone fixed not only me to the spot. Two years later and his debut album gets the Mercury Music Prize. His delivery is naturally idiosyncratic and that’s not something you hear often. A singular talent and a deserved Mercury win. If he never released another track, his place as a star is nevertheless confirmed. I really hope there’s (a lot) more to come.
Kith & Kine is a stylish two-bed property close to all the hip/tech action in Shoreditch, London. It has a record player and a nice selection of vinyl including a few of the choices above. You can rent it through Airbnb.
