Each year, I make a playlist of the songs that meant the most to me during that calendar year. Some are new releases, but most are older classics. It is sequenced with care.
My 2020 Mix can be found below via Spotify. I also wrote a few words on each choice.
Vampire Weekend – “Stranger”: I had planned to be a pseudo-Deadhead with some friends for a week in August and follow Vampire Weekend on a three-show stretch in Missoula, Calgary and Edmonton. The pandemic obviously changed that, as well as my planned wedding. “Stranger” and “2021” both took on some new meaning, but “I remember life as a stranger” has felt like a poignant, knowing statement from the first time I heard it.
Fleet Foxes – “Wading in Waist-High Water,” “Sunblind”; Silver Jews: “People”: The new Fleet Foxes album was a balm, full of joy and recollection. “Wading in Waist-High Water” captures the social movement that defined the year; “Sunblind” captures the people whose art defined you. David Berman, who died last summer, is one of those artists. His song “People” is his clearest mission statement, filled with a unique, observational humanity. “The drums march along at the clip of an IV drip.”
The National – “I Am Easy to Find”: I love when art is referential towards other art I love. Matt Berninger’s invocation of Guided by Voices to begin the second verse is the perfect example of this. It’s the greatest National song for a better reason, though: it vocalizes the feeling of inertia that runs through their discography, of remaining mentally and emotionally in the same place.
Waxahatchee – “Arkadelphia”: I took part in only one virtual concert this year, Katie Crutchfield’s solo performance of Ivy Tripp. She was excellent, much as she was when I saw her live during Sled Island in 2017. I enjoyed her new album as well, especially “Arkadelphia,” which Crutchfield sings with an almost unbearable longing and the same sense of inertia that draws me into “I Am Easy to Find.”
Andy Shauf – “Changer”: I only saw one concert in 2020, which was among the things I missed most this year. In February, my brother and I caught Andy Shauf at Mount Royal. His album The Neon Skyline was among my favourites of the year, and he played it to perfection live. “Changer” grew on me as my favourite, the one abstract statement on the record. That final line reminds me of one of the most enduring lyrics by Arcade Fire: “By the time the first bombs fell, we were already bored.”
Adrianne Lenker – “anything”: Adrianne Lenker has written the best song of the year for two years running. In 2019, it was “Not,” a song filled with disarming, stop-what-you’re-doing-and-pay-attention lyrics. Although “Anything” is a very different song, it carries the same lyrical brilliance that Lenker has always imbued in her music. “Weren’t we the stars in heaven? Weren’t we the salt in the sea? Dragon in the new, warm mountain/didn’t you believe in me?”
Fiona Apple – “Valentine”: My favourite album of 2020 was Fetch the Bolt Cutters, but it’s an earlier Fiona Apple song that I connected with most this year. A raw, yearning classic.
Julian Casablancas – “I’ll Try Anything Once”: My preferred version, the B-side to “You Only Live Once,” isn’t on Spotify. The modulation somehow gives more humanity to Casablancas, who I’ve found to be a fairly unrelatable figure post-Is This It. This is his greatest lyrical effort, and among indie rock’s greatest melodies. It is a wonder he never gave it an official release, minus a Sofia Coppola soundtrack.
Beat Happening – “Godsend”: My favourite read this year was Our Band Could Be Your Life, an oral history of American underground rock music in the ’80s. It had me listening to albums from the bands covered, including Beat Happening, who I had written off a number of years ago. I still find Beat Happening a bit slight, the type of band more meaningful when you are there, present in their movement when it feels like the most important thing in the world. But their final album, You Turn Me On, is filled with incredible dream-pop cuts, none better than the hypnotic, romantic “Godsend.”
New Order – “Temptation”: It’s ridiculous that I didn’t get into New Order before this year. Substance 1987, their singles compilation, is an indelible document of a band firing on all cylinders, pushing the boundaries of their craft. “Temptation” is my favourite, for the melodies and motifs that endure, particularly the great declaration that is gone as soon as it is sung: “Oh, you’ve got green eyes, oh, you’ve got blue eyes, oh you’ve got grey eyes.”
R.E.M. – “Harborcoat”: I went on a long R.E.M. kick this year, obsessing over their first five records. I had always loved Automatic for the People, but this was the first time I really explored their earlier work. Turns out it’s incredible. “Harborcoat” may be the highlight, an interior plea driven by a jangle-pop guitar lead to rival Johnny Marr. This sounds like biking in the spring.
Jeff Rosenstock – “State Line”: As I retreat from new music, my list of artists whose releases are a day-one must-listen is shrinking pretty dramatically. But I will always have time for Jeff Rosenstock, one of the great songwriters of his time. On basis of how often it gets stuck in my head, “State Line” may be my highlight from N O D R E A M, which operates on a consistently high level without a clear peak.
The Hold Steady – “Constructive Summer”: A bittersweet listen during a summer that felt anything but constructive, but the sentiment endures. A defiantly joyous song that makes me think of one of my most formative concert experiences, seeing The Hold Steady live at Olympic Plaza during Sled Island 2012. “Getting older makes it harder to remember/we are our only saviours.”
Guided by Voices – “Game of Pricks”: An unimpeachable classic from the great songwriter Robert Pollard. I put this on repeat a number of times this year; what a shot of adrenaline it can be when heard 10 times in 15 minutes.
Phoebe Bridgers – “I Know the End”: The first time I heard Punisher, I felt it was good but maybe a little boring… with the exception of “I Know the End,” which felt like the kind of artistic quantum leap so great it risks ruining an entire back catalog. I grew to love the rest of Punisher by the end of the year, with tracks like “Graceland Too” and “Punisher” emerging as truly great feats. (Her falsetto is the key. It’s so ephemeral, hanging for just one note, like when it floats up at the end of, “Man, I wish that I could say the same.”) But “I Know the End” is still a singular achievement, thoughtful and defiant in ways I’d love to be, capped with the greatest horn melody since Illinois. The line that rings most clearly: “A slaughter house, an outlet mall/slot machines, fear of God.”
The Velvet Underground – “After Hours”: I’m partial to VU songs where Moe Tucker takes on the role of lead vocalist, a role I understand she was hesitant to try. This is a perfect cap to what I think of as a perfect run in the first three VU albums. I love how willing the band was to make these kinds of songs, placing them next to experiments like “The Murder Mystery.”