Play it as it Lays

Brandy Alexander — The Walkmen

There are two solid truths in and about the recording industry: labels will pay a lot of money to elevate relatively young men that can croon like broken, defeated old-timers; and the older you get, if you are inclined to rock, the finer your appreciation for the bass guitar.

Shortly before the Walkmen broke up, I’d decided they were the coolest band in the world. Lead singer Hamilton Leithauser seemed to know exactly where my cortisol button was. I’ve found some comfort, in a world without the Walkmen, in getting to trawl through parts of the band’s discography for the first time — just closing all my loose ends. 

Feist also has titled a wonderful song ‘Brandy Alexander’. In the Walkmen’s case, it’s an adrenal interplay of a drum and bass guitar in hyperfocus, with well-timed top hats cherrying what dark anticipation it builds. Leithauser is the sound of pain, relief, exhaustion, redemption: of honey in a glass of gin. ‘Finally closed the door/ you left open wide,” he drawls, “Locked it from the inside.” The lyrics are so simple, and yet they capture the complexity and never-endingness of heartbreak right after one person destroys another. Leithauser’s voice rises in consternation, with hope, then it melts in exasperation, with resignation.

Lil Ze — Jévon

It’s a little embarrassing now to connect to someone’s Bluetooth, mid-joyride, and hear people identify you as a ‘FIFA guy’ from your music. I don’t know how else to describe this song’s seductive jangle as the literal sound of bling. It’s also the precise sound you want in your ears as you build a killer starting line-up, Kane, ‘Arry, in the false 9.

Body Loose — Dizzee Rascal

I get petrified when beloved artistes from yesteryear decide to show the world they’ve still got it. Either they stick to the tried and tested sound, which will have dated terribly; or they try and play a young man’s game, and inadvertently out themselves as out-of-touch geezers trying too hard. Not Dizzee.

A YouTube comment somewhere says he’s just having fun with it all, and Body Loose’s funky aerobic melody is the perfect comeback tune: unashamed of its roots in UK garage, nodding nostalgically to Britain’s perpetually decent mood under Tony Blair, and bloody hell does it slap. 

It was a good year, at the very least, for grime — and an even better one for Dizzee Rascal.

Over the World — French Kicks

Another brilliant song by another defunct band. I can bet and win lots of house money presuming even the most ardent indie rock fans haven’t heard of French Kicks, a band from New York (actually) that found its way recording its last album. Almost every jam on ‘Swimming’ goes down like a warm lemonade, late in a night of accidental excess. It’s the sort of song, midway through a pandemic, that shows you how simultaneously high and meaningless the stakes of life can be. 

Euro Step - Westside Gunn

I sometimes find myself wishing there were less Griselda records. But when Westside Gunn means to Timberland-step across a beat - and this one he reportedly sourced off a Frenchman’s Instagram - the results take hip-hop in new, fascinating directions. It’s reductive to simply thank Gunn (and Griselda) for bringing back bare-bones rap music. Not when he’s waxing lyrical about luxury goods, luxurious dogs, to the wicked tune of Dr. Doom blowing a hole in the earth. 

By Myself - Maya Hawke 

Who woulda thunk it: Ethan Hawke’s daughter can act (Stranger Things’ third season), and she can downright sing. Hawke’s gentle voice lures you callously into the sea, and when she’s cloaked in a country vibe this unabashed, the results are glorious. I want to fall asleep to this, if I am to wake up in hell when I die. 

Kid Charlemagne - Steely Dan

I was in the grocery store during COVID’s first and very mysterious wave, when I put on Steely Dan’s 1972 disc, Can’t Buy A Thrill, purely for the fuck of it; and it was startling how prescient the whole thing felt. It was easy to time travel in 2020, what with cringey flashback battles and such all over the social Internet, but I’m glad I was mostly able to resist the temptation. ‘Kid Charlemagne’ is a song you should play at dance parties in the future, just to celebrate getting there at all.

Laugh Now Cry Later - Drake

It’s extremely rare for me to not utterly detest a Drake song. Granted, I first heard this one soundtracking a reel of baseball highlights - but it means something that I couldn’t place its timeline. When was this ditty released? Was this his new shit or what? I guess I relate to the regret of it - I guess we all do, in a year that forced us all to remember what things used to be and mourn what they could have been. I don’t mean to get philosophical over Drake, but I guess that’s what’s at the heart of the guy’s (alleged) genius: timing.

Mortal Kombat feat. Kari Faux - Pivot Gang

One of the many ways in which the pandemic has robbed us culturally is the amount of live footage we’ll never look up, to experience awesome songs in our temples. You honestly don’t need the song’s few actual Mortal Kombat references to shift ass to a beat that’s overflowing with self-confidence, but the symbolism helps - certainly when it twinkles masterfully towards its conclusion. REPEAT.

Haiti - Arcade Fire

I didn’t spend a significant amount of time in college, long story, but bands like Fleet Foxes, the Arcade Fire and the Shins were an education in sensitive manhood. What respite ‘Haiti’ was, this sexy anthem of liberation, its every transition perfectly synchronised with coral back-up, and packed with vindication for the indie disposition. I messaged a homie from back then when the band uploaded a performance from home recently, and smiled at how foolish we used to be.