The Top 10 Songs of 2017

From the first half, at least

In December of every year, I make a list of my favorite albums of the last 12 months and write up an explanation of it. This year, I want to do the same for songs. Since I already have a fairly robust list of music that I’ve enjoyed from 2017 so far, I’m writing down my favorite 10 songs at this point. This list will surely change by late December, but here it is as of early July

10. “Wonder” — The Classic Crime; 9. “Adeline” — Alt-J; 8.“Fake Happy” — Paramore.

The first three songs of this list are strikingly dissimilar, making me happy that I have an excuse to write about them together. “Wonder” is a straightforward rock song, and is also a good showcase of The Classic Crime’s newest album. “Adeline,” on the other hand, is deeply atmospheric and nearly cinematic. At nearly six minutes long, it’s easily the least accessibly of these three. It also might be the most emotive, though. The lyrics themselves are somewhat standard fare, but the instrumental work and vocals are hauntingly sad, paving the way for an emotional climax near the end.

Finally, “Fake Happy” reverts back to a more typical song structure. It’s easily the highlight of a weird-but-good new album from Paramore, and I’d recommend it to anyone who is remotely interested in seeing the band’s latest work. Much of After Laughter (the album) took me several listens to appreciate, but this song grabbed me immediately. It’s solid.

7. “Everything Now”—Arcade Fire; 6. “No Known Drink or Drug” — Japandroids.

I wrote about Arcade Fire’s first single for their new album not long ago, and the upshot of that piece is that it’s fantastic. I also think it’s a great example of the band’s best work. I’d place several of the band’s older songs above it on a theoretical “best-of” list, but the formula of energetic music and tight song structures shows its members at their best. I don’t know what to expect in the followup to Reflektor, but this song excites me.

I also wrote about Japandroids near the beginning of 2017. They released their new album to a mixed reception, which I argued is somewhat a function of the long wait between projects. Ultimately, I think Near to the Wild Heart of Life is slightly disappointing. It lacks the originality of its predecessors, and feels unfocused at times. All of that goes out the window with “No Known Drink or Drug,” though. This song is fantastic, and it shows the absolute best of what these musicians are capable of. Even if the album itself could be better, this song was worth the long wait.

It’s also pretty fun live:

5. “The Louvre,” — Lorde; 4.“If We Were Vampires” — Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit.

Lorde and Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit both released albums on the same day, and both projects are excellent. Perhaps it’s fitting, then, that these two artists fit next to each other on this list. To make this semi-comparison even better, both artists are truly phenomenal songwriters. Ibsell might be the best lyricist I’ve ever listened to, while Lorde combines artful instrumentals with her own brand of wit and semi-cynicism.

“The Louvre” is Lorde’s take on a summer romance jam, and it showcases everything that makes her new album great. Starting with a slow guitar line and gradually building into something greater, this particular piece of music is interesting from beginning to end. It lacks the poignancy of some other tracks on this album, but its good qualities make it the best song on Melodrama, and one of the best in 2017 so far.

Meanwhile, “If We Were Vampires” is a beautifully tragic love song. The lyrics, which don’t need any of my praise to stand out, are as follows:

If we were vampires and death was a joke
We’d go out on the sidewalk and smoke
Laugh at all the lovers and their plans
I wouldn’t feel the need to hold your hand
Maybe time running out is a gift
I’ll work hard ’til the end of my shift
And give you every second I can find
And hope it isn’t me who’s left behind

Every relationship, no matter how perfect, will be ended by death one day. It’s a depressing thought, but a reality of life that Isbell turns into a truly magnificent song. It isn’t quite my favorite off of his latest album, but it’s close.

3. “After the Party,” — The Menzingers; 2. “Holy Water,” — The Classic Crime

Earlier this year, I wrote about my favorite songs of a (then) young 2017. I anointed “After the Party,” as an early favorite, noting how I appreciated the mature way that the lyrics dealt with growing older. That’s equally true today, as the Menzingers’ newest project is still near or at the top of my favorite music of this year.

But, for now at least, it’s been passed by “Holy Water,” from the Classic Crime’s New album, How to be Human. That’s hardly a knock on the Menzingers, since I’ve enjoyed every second of the new music from TCC. Matt MacDonald has always been one of my favorite songwriters, and “Holy Water” captures all of the energy and aggression that drew me to the Classic Crime so long ago.

I’ve struggled to articulate what I love so much about this band’s sound. The lyrics are great, the instrumentals are good, and the overall sound is easily accessible, but the true appeal of this artist and album goes a little deeper. I’ve settled on the ideas of energy and earnestness, as cliche and overused as these terms can be. When MacDonald sings, though, his performance makes every word seen honest and genuine. It’s not that he can sing very well (although he absolutely can), but rather that he seems to commit to each performance with every possible ounce of energy that he has. That’s on clear display here, making “Holy Water” my second-favorite track of the year.

The album is great as well, which I’ve noted earlier. Here’s “Holy Water:”

1. “Hope the High Road” — Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit.

As I wrote above, Isbell is one of the best songwriters I’ve ever listened to. On his latest album, he hits a complicated mix of themes, including racism, love, and different brands of disappointment. Here, on the penultimate track of The Nashville Sound, he sounds excited and energetic.

The song starts out sounding sad and tired:

I used to think that this was my town
What a stupid thing to think
I hear you’re fighting off a breakdown
I myself am on the brink
I used to want to be a real man
I don’t know what that even means
Now I just want you in my arms again
And we can search each other’s dreams

However, this quickly shifts:

I’ve heard enough of the white man’s blues
I’ve sang enough about myself
So if you’re looking for some bad news
You can find it somewhere else
Last year was a son of a bitch
For nearly everyone we know
But I ain’t fighting with you down in a ditch
I’ll meet you up here on the road

I won’t ruin the lyrics by posting them all here, but they build to a satisfying end of resolve and purpose. These ideas are complemented by the underlying music, aided by the full-band sound that Isbell brings with the 400 unit. Because of the beautiful songwriting, and the transition from sorrow to at least partial optimism (which is also a function of the entire album), this is my favorite song of the year so far.

Here’s the entire project via Spotify: