Best of 2016
It might not have been a vintage year for glad tidings, but what 2016 lacked in LOLs it just about made up for in quality albums. From Bowie’s final masterpiece to a powerful protest record by Anohni –via Skepta’s Mercury Prize-winning comeback and a vibrant return from A Tribe Called Quest – check out the year’s best music below.
The Top 10
- If the prospect of an album critiquing ecocide, surveillance culture, US defence policy and the brutality of drone warfare doesn’t sound like the most joyous way to spend 40 minutes, we urge you to put your preconceptions aside: this is a beautiful, powerful and inexplicably uplifting protest record. Written in collaboration with Hudson Mohawke and Oneohtrix Point Never, Hopelessness is a far cry from the pastoral indie-folk of Anohni’s work with Antony and the Johnsons, and her previous collaborations with Hercules and Love Affair. And yet, the album’s elastic beats, doomy subs and euphoric synths prove the ideal vehicle for Anohni’s soulful melisma, and bring an added sense of urgency to her searing missives. Quite astonishingly brilliant.
- Opening his fourth LP with the words, “I’m sweating like I’m in a rave / been in this room for three days”, Danny Brown wastes no time asserting that his hedonism hasn’t waned during his three years away. Yet amid tales of sex, drug-habits and dollar-bills, there’s an air of introspection to the Joy Division-inspired Atrocity Exhibition, as the Detroit-rapper picks up where he left off on 2013’s existential panic-laced Old. Combining innovative production – which ranges from stark guitar distortion (‘Downward Spiral’) to hyperactive horn loops (‘Ain’t It Funny’) – with superb guest verses from Kendrick, Earl Sweatshirt and Kelela, Atrocity Exhibition is Brown’s most claustrophobic and compelling album yet, and one of 2016’s finest.
- Tempting as it is to join the dots between art and the context in which it was created, the relationship between the two is always much more complex than autobiographical readings allow for. And while it would be unwise to fully separate the follow-up to 2013’s Push The Sky Away from the tragic death of Nick Cave’s son, to suggest that Skeleton Tree is purely concerned with grief would be both reductive and untrue. Like all of Cave’s catalogue, his latest is rich in lyrical content, taking in everything from doomy, Old Testament-inspired imagery to themes of hope, lust and loss. It’s really the ravaged quality of some of Cave’s vocals that betrays the horrific circumstances in which the set was completed, but listening you come away incredibly thankful that he and his band persevered.