Sunday, December 29, 2019

The only end of the decade list that matters?

With each passing year in the '10's, I became more estranged from whatever passes for the critical albums consensus these days.  In 2009, I scored 2/5 in GAPDY (and was at least mildly interested in the other three) and remained mostly within the loop of the most highly acclaimed music of 2010.  By mid-decade, my top ten lists were mostly filled with electronic music oddities and various experimental projects that hardly anyone else paid attention to.  A quick glance at P&J stats through 2016 (thanks again to Glenn Mcdonald) clearly shows this trend via my collapsing centricity scores.  Or, consider the number of albums in the years 2010-2016 for which I was the sole voter: 1 (notably my #1 album that year), 1, 1, 4, 2, 5, 6.

Tracks lists usually contain a lot of duplication of artists that appear on the albums lists.  A representative track from the most acclaimed albums is chosen, the order is jumbled up a bit to distinguish it from the albums, and you end up with a mostly redundant tracks list that doesn't tell you much that you didn't already learn from the albums list.  

In putting together my 40-for-40 list, I discussed the idea of using my tracks list as a form of autobiography, where the songs don't always match with my "favourites of all time", but signify changing trends, attitudes, and relationships with music and in real life. 

Billboard have taken a similar approach with their "100 Songs That Defined the Decade" list.  They note that the decade can't be summed up by simple catchphrases ("The Drake Era", The Global Pop Era", "The EDM era", etc.).  Instead, the decade consists of countless "mini-histories" and mini-eras, which collectively help to define the music of the '10's.  Implicit in all this is the fact that decade start and end points are arbitrary markers anyway, and cultural labels are always attached after the fact.  All the more reason that ten years can't be summed up with a couple of simple descriptions.

They note that "these [100 songs] aren't our picks for the best songs of the decade, or even the most popular, necessarily -- although a large number of them were widely loved, including by many of us on staff -- but rather, the songs that shaped and reflected the music of the 2010's.  Not all of them defined the decade at its best, but better or worse, it's close to impossible to imagine the decade without any of them."

This is exactly how it should be.  Baauer's "Harlem Shake" was an inescapable cultural meme -- and you won't find a sniff of it on any albums lists.  Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe" was a massive #1 hit and arguably the most successful Canadian single ever.  For those reasons, it belongs on a list like this, even if most of her fans insist that her later albums were far better.  Whether you think her best stuff came later or not, whether you are bored sick of "Call Me Maybe" or still add it to your playlists regularly, there's no contradiction between quality and popularity/impact on this kind of tracks list.  On an albums list you'd choose the best album, thereby ignoring most popular hit by far, and skip over a crucial "mini-history" of the decade.  

Billboard's list covers plenty of different genres, and even if you don't listen to albums in many of those genres (which I don't), you're still likely to know some of their most popular songs.  That still counts on a list like this.  There are plenty of mega-hits, controversial moments, and songs with iconic videos.  They even found room for Rebecca Black's "Friday", and it makes perfect sense that they did.   

Each entry features a write-up with input from the producers, artists, and industry insiders responsible for the track.  Some are interviews from years ago, and some are new and refreshing retrospective looks back at what made each song into what it became.  It really comes off like an essential document of music history, and may be the only published "end of the decade" list I can truly relate to.    

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