Honorable Mentions (roughly in order, best at the top):
Garcia Peoples – Natural Facts
Sturgill Simpson – Sound & Fury
Hozier – Wasteland, Baby!
Dave Hause – Kick
Chance the Rapper – The Big Day
The Hold Steady – Thrashing Thru the Passion
Craig Finn – I Need a New War
Martha – Love Keeps Kicking
Maggie Rogers – Heard It in a Past Life
The New Pornographers – In the Morse Code of Brake Lights
Best tracks: "Tough Enough," "Rainbow Shiner," "Want It to Be True," "Another Dimension"
One area where 2019 shined was its abundance of incredible music by women. I remember musing mid-year that it wouldn't surprise me if my year-end top-10 was all female. It almost ended up that way (7/10), and half of the top-20 albums you see here feature a female vocalist, while my longlist had several other strong releases by Sunflower Bean, Molly Tuttle, Jay Som, Sheer Mag, Tacocat, Tegan and Sara, and others. Just sneaking into my top-10 is Ex Hex, the new band from ex-Wild Flag member Mary Timony. It's Real isn't quite in the same tier as the one Wild Flag record (losing two members of Sleater-Kinney will do that), but it's a badass record in its own right, featuring a brash mix of crunchy guitarwork, layered harmonies, and instantly catchy choruses. "Rainbow Shiner" is emblematic of the record as a whole, and is one of my favorite songs of the year—the opening riff is aggressively memorable, outright refusing to leave your head for days, and the chorus isn't too far behind in that regard. If Timony can put together a record with a few more like that, she might be able to top that Wild Flag record after all.
Best tracks: "Didn't Know What I Was In For," "Sleepwalkin'," "Dylan Thomas," "My City"
This collaboration between Phoebe Bridgers and Conor Oberst—both of whom I like but don't love outside this project—earned its way onto this list by sheer force of repetition. I liked the album well enough at first, but it seemed more destined for an appearance on my longlist than to be one of my favorites of the year. But something about the album must have tickled both my fancy and Spotify's algorithms, as I couldn't seem to get away from this album as the year went on, despite not really going out of my way to play it. It would just seem to always come on after I played something else. Eventually, Bridgers's earnestness, Oberst's somberness, and the brooding-yet-playful vibe of the record as a whole won me over. The album has a dashed-off quality that these side projects often have—rough-hewn production, a few songs that seem more like sketches, a jumbled aesthetic—but the more I listen to it, the more I think it's mostly intentional. These two have songwriting chops to spare, and Oberst is a perfect backboard for Bridgers's incredible voice (I'll really have to give her other projects more attention). That interplay is on full display on "Dylan Thomas," which one of my favorite tracks of the year. It's grim yet poppy, lyrically simple yet thematically deep, and catchy as all hell. Not sure if we'll get another album from these two, but I'd gobble it up if we did.
Best tracks: "Anna," "Last to Know," "Strangers Forever," "Hello Exile"
The Menzingers' new album was one of my most anticipated of the year—their previous release, 2017's After the Party, absolutely floored me. It was my favorite album of the year, and will likely land in my top 10 for the decade. It was just a perfect album. Their follow-up, while quite good, doesn't quite measure up to its predecessor (but it was almost never going to). After the Party felt a lot like what The Menzingers were building up to... and what comes after the party, indeed? The songs here, while well crafted, hooky as shit, and dripping with the band's trademark earnestness, are less urgent, trawling mined-over emotional terrain. Don't get me wrong, it's a good record—"Anna" is an anthemic banger, the bombastic "Strangers" slays live, and the title track showcase's co-leadman Greg Barnett's considerable talents as a songwriter and vocalist. But this album definitely didn't hit me as hard as After the Party. Maybe that album just came along at the right time for me—hell, maybe there's someone out there who was as bowled over by this record as I was with After the Party. I hope there is. But I'll be fine settling with this very good—if not entirely memorable—follow-up. I do wonder, though, how much higher this could have climbed on my list if it had included excellent pre-album singles like "Toy Soldier" and "No Penance."
Best tracks: "the view," "dig," "a morning song," "impossible game"
Speaking of emotive East Coast rock bands, here we have Oso Oso, the nom de guitar of Long Island's Jade Lilitri. But whereas The Menzingers are more obviously a punk band, Oso Oso skews more toward emo/pop punk—expertly straddling the line between the two without dipping too far in either direction. You can trace Oso Oso's lineage back pretty clearly to bands like Brand New and Saves the Day (both of whom were very formative to me) and, more recently, The Hotelier (a more recent but still important discovery for me). Oso Oso predominantly works in clean guitars and vocals, dabbling in the quietLOUDquiet dynamic, all building to consummately cathartic choruses. In other words, this album couldn't be any more in my wheelhouse—everything down to the lowercase song titles. If this had come out in 2004, it would have been prime accompaniment to three or four ill-advised Rolling Rocks at 4:00 a.m. after the house party had died down. I can especially imaging turning "impossible game" into a one-man (or two-man) pity party while trying and failing to make sense of young adulthood. I'm mostly too old for that shit now, but music like this record brings that comforting sense of melancholy nostalgia.
Best tracks: "Surviving," "Delivery," "All the Way (Stay)," "Recommitt," "Congratulations"
Oh man, we're really in a genre groove now, aren't we? While we're on the subject of mid-2000s late-night cry-songs, that brings us to Jimmy Eat World. If you're a white person between the ages of, I don't know, 20 to 50, you've probably cried to a Jimmy Eat World song—especially in the Clarity/Bleed American/Futures era. I won't claim their latest reaches those lofty heights (I certainly haven't cried to it), but it's of a piece with their previous album, 2016's Integrity Blues. It's very much a sequel to that album, with the same increased emphasis on fierce, atmospheric guitarwork and a decidedly harder edge than their previous few albums (the rather blah Damage and the excellent Invented and Chase This Light—the latter being almost a straight-up pop album). There's always been a bit of the atmospheric in Jimmy Eat World, especially their album closers like the soaring "Goodbye Sky Harbor" (Clarity) and the wrenching "23" (Futures). Contrast those to the trenchant "Congratulations" here, which almost borders on post-hardcore stylings with its long stretches of propulsive guitar, haunting chanting, electronic flourishes, and hypnotic lyrical repetitions. There are still the same, radio-friendly Jimmy singles ("Stay," "Love Never"), but the darker elements of this album hint at an exciting new future direction for one of my favorite bands... if they choose to embrace it.
Best tracks: "California Friends," "I Dare You," "Fog," "Dress Up"
Some of the albums on this list wormed their way in after repeated listens (Ex Hex, BCOC, and Oso Oso). Not so with The Regrettes—the pretty much sealed up a spot the first time I heard "I Dare You," one of the most purely joyful songs I heard this year, with its jubilant guitars, "oooh-wah-oooh" harmonies, and absolutely aces chorus. It all feels like it came straight from frontwoman Lydia Night's sarcastically smiling heart and into your ears. The Regrettes—incredible band name, by the way—are the kind of eternally fresh, uncomplicated power-pop that 20-year-old me might have called a guilty pleasure—the kind of music The Akergirls would make if they were a real band. (Candy Hearts/Best Ex are another one in this vein). Long free of even giving the slightest shit about what people think about the music I like, there's nothing guilty about digging this band. That said, 20-year-old me would have fit in much better than 36-year-old me at the Regrettes show I attended earlier this year. So. Many. Teenagers. Mostly girls—duh, Night is only 19 herself. Awkward but fun show. Looking forward to seeing Night and her band grow.
Best tracks: "Norman fucking Rockwell," "Mariners Apartment Complex," "Venice Bitch," "hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have - but I have it"
This is the album I was most surprised to see make its way onto this list—especially this high. I've never really been a fan of Lana Del Rey before. I remember listening to Born to Die a bit when it came out ("Summertime Sadness" is a jam), but I generally didn't jibe with her sleepy delivery and disaffected persona. Neither of those two things have changed—her vocals on Norman fucking Rockwell! are as languid as ever, and she still exudes that detached, cool girl vibe—but this record has the best songwriting of her career, and some of the best of the year. It almost feels more like a short story collection than an album, a boozy and drug-addled odyssey through a Southern California that's at once familiar and decidedly not, replete with references to everything from Neil Young to Bret Easton Ellis to Sublime. Her cover of "Doin' Time" keeps the same tempo and lyrics (rather than switching the gender), but turns the song on its head with a chamber-pop arrangement, eerie background vocals, and vulnerable delivery, all of which serves to play up the misogyny of the original bro ballad. It's very 2019, as is the album as a whole, but there's also a timeless quality to it—and I think it'll age better than work by artists she tends to get lumped in with (e.g. Lorde, Billie Eilish). In the same way that we have classic rock records, this could be remembered as a classic pop record, from the luscious dirge of the title track opener to the sprawling melancholy of the nearly 10-minute "Venice Bitch" to the spare and elegant "hope is a dangerous thing" closer. I'm still making my way through this record myself, which is the only reason it is't ranked higher. I'm gonna keep delving into this record and her discography in 2020 and beyond.
Best tracks: "Lover," "Paper Rings," "Cornelia Street," "Death By A Thousand Cuts"
I'm glad the old Taylor is back among the living—Lover is much more in the vein of the euphoric best of 1989 than the faux–bad girl vibes of Reputation (which I didn't really care for). Swift has always been at her best when she drops any pretense of cool and embraces her sometimes clumsy, yet endearing, songwriting tendencies—her early singles, the asides of "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together," even the cringey white-girl rapping on "Shake It Off." That Taylor is on full display here—the smirkily blasé opener "I Forgot That You Existed," the "uh-huh, that's right, darling" of "Paper Rings" (the highlight of the album), the somewhat belabored lyrics of "Thousand Cuts," the try-hard-ness of "London Boy." She does take a couple stabs at Reputation-like "new Taylor" tracks—notably "I Think He Knows"—which are okay, but not the strength of the album. They are better, however, than the actually kind of terrible lead singles, the Brandon Urie–assisted "Me!" and the forgettable "You Need To Calm Down." They're both thankfully buried toward the end of the album. The eponymous third single is much better—a charming little ditty that's destined to be played at weddings for years to come. Here's hoping that and "Paper Rings" or "Cornelia Street" can chase the first two singles off the radio soon—and that the old Taylor is back for good.
Best tracks: "Capacity," "Camera," "Young Enough," "Chatroom," "Hard to Believe"
Charly Bliss's debut, Guppy, made my longlist back in 2017, largely due to the infectious "Black Hole" and "Ruby," so I was excited to see that they had a new one coming in 2019. A lot has changed in two years—Young Enough feels more like a band's third or fourth album than just their second. Whereas Guppy was a fairly straightforward power-pop record, brash and a little bratty with lo-fi production, Young Enough is an immaculately polished statement record, incorporating crystalline synths and vastly more mature songwriting—even Eve Hendricks's vocals have smoothed out. There's still an acerbic edge to her delivery—and the record as a whole—but she's more confident here, more comfortable in her range. While the record is full of indie-pop gems like "Capacity" and "Chatroom," the centerpiece of the album is the title track, a 5+ minute rumination on a years-old failed relationship: how much has changed, how much she's grown, how much affection she still has for the person. It's one of the very best songs of the year—plaintive, pensive, heartfelt, heartbreaking. Along with kindred acts Soccer Mommy and Hop Along, Charly Bliss will be one of the bands I'll be keeping my eye on most in the next few years. One can only imagine how accomplished their next record will be with another few years of growth.
Best tracks: "Heads Gonna Roll," "Red Bull & Hennessey," "Hollywood Lawn," "On The Line"
Jenny Lewis has put out two albums this decade—this and 2014's The Voyager—and they were both my #1 record of the year, a feat matched only by Metric and Kanye West. If I were going to name an Artist of the Decade (I am not going to), Jenny Lewis would get strong consideration. Although On the Line isn't quite on the level of The Voyager, which is in my top-10 for the decade, it's still far and away the best album of the year—none of the albums above came even close. Lewis is working on a level above just about anyone making music right now. She has a classic sensibility in her sound and arrangements, but her lyrics—wry but deeply personal, often filtered through characters, and peppered with hyper-specific details—are very much of-the-moment. The resulting contrast is utterly idiosyncratic and intoxicating—there's nothing like it in music today. From the morbid musings of "Heads" to the jaunty heroin jingle "Wasted Youth" to the spare piano ballad "Dogwood," the album is suffused with the purest essence of Lewis's inner workings. That's not to say she didn't have help, though—folks like Beck, Ryan Adams, Ringo Starr, and erstwhile Heartbreaker Benmont Tench contribute in various facets. The latter takes center stage on album highlight—and my favorite song of the year—"Red Bull & Hennessey," a shimmery, sexy scorcher of a track that features some of Lewis's most sultry lyrics and that culminates in a scintillating Ryan Adams guitar solo. It's a remarkable song on a remarkable album from one of the most remarkable artists working today. Here's hoping she can keep it up as we move into the 2020s—is one more #1 album too much to ask?
Bonus: My Top 10 Songs of 2019 (roughly in order):
"Red Bull & Hennessey" – Jenny Lewis
"Young Enough" – Charly Bliss
"I Dare You" – The Regrettes
"The Void" – Martha
"Rainbow Shiner" – Ex Hex
"Come For Me" – Sunflower Bean
"Dylan Thomas" – Better Oblivion Community Center
"Impossible Game" – Oso Oso
"AAA" – Beach Slang
"Anna" – The Menzingers
As always, thanks for reading! I pretty much just write these for myself, but if anyone else manages to get anything out of my ramblings, that's even better. Can't wait to see what 2020 brings!
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