The Years of Living Albumlessly
by Steve Forstneger
For the second year running, I haven’t submitted an albums-of-the-year list because the only albums I listen to are those that I review for Beats Per Minute. Occasionally, a blockbuster release will sneak its way onto my desk, but that only strengthens the argument against an annual recap. I spend my time almost exclusively with singles, reviewing a song every weekday on Instagram and trying vainly to swim with the constant flow of new music.
Each time an artist or publicist emails me with a new single, I eventually listen to it. According to my 2023 Spotify Wrapped, I listened to exactly 6,700 artists, 10,020 songs, roughly 31 solid days of music. Approximately 200 of those tracks ended up being reviewed, and another 180 joined them on my Best Of 2023 playlist.
The reasons I started doing this aren’t interesting – I actually just deleted several paragraphs of sucky explanation. Maybe I’m trying to refute a stereotype. Music fans have complained for generations that critics follow an agenda at the expense of more deserving artists. As if when I was the editor-in-chief of the monthly Illinois Entertainer in Chicago, I conspired (over poker in a smoke-filled room) with my counterparts at the Chicago Tribune, Sun-Times, Reader, and New City over coverage. Though we would like to have taken credit for (and subsequently distanced ourselves from) Kanye West, that shit is really on y’all.
At the same time, critics do talk, read each other’s reports, and we turn each other onto what has turned us on. We are a functional necessity for one another; there’s simply too much music that can be missed. Finding consensus among us is the proverbial herding of cats, however. When we submitted our songs-of-the-year nominees (usually between 20 and 50 from each of us), I chose 45 and only three of those overlapped with anyone else’s (“Tiny Garden”, “Contact”, “Run, Run, Run”) with an additional artist overlap in Susanne Sundfør. Versus Pitchfork’s top 100, I fare little better: keep “Garden” and “Contact”, remove “Run”, and swap Sundfør with Christine & The Queens and Blonde Redhead. Incidentally, I reviewed three of those artists’ albums this year.
Looking over everyone else’s submissions, the album game is clearly what drives the songs conversation at BPM. Thirty of our songs of the year come from our albums of the year, while seven of my 45 nominees came from albums I personally reviewed. (Yet no artist is represented by more than one track – an unwritten rule.) Individually, my colleagues nominated nearly every track on the Boygenius and Sufjan Stevens records. I don’t know what tipped the balance in favour of “Not Strong Enough” and “Shit Talk”, respectively, but “consensus” is an exaggeration. Sixteen of Pitchfork’s Top 25 songs came from their top albums. Chicken/egg regardless, the correlation between albums and songs looks like the true source of this tyrannical agenda. (And they say albums don’t matter anymore.)
The following list represents my Top 10 tracks of 2023, adjusted for album influence (positions 3, 4, 7, 11, and 14 were originally held by Sister Ray “Teeth”, Unknown Mortal Orchestra “Layla”, Nation Of Language “Weak In Your Light”, Christine & The Queens “True love”, and Mick Jenkins “Show & Tell” off albums I reviewed).
- San Holo “LIGHT ONLY” feat. Bipolar Sunshine
Maybe the sort of song that a future bass o.g. could create in their sleep, for sure: that San Holo spends the track teasing a bass drop that never arrives and yet he still achieves a feeling of release? Addictive.
- Residente “Bajo y Batería”
An increasingly agitated, 9-minute diss track. The frustration of his rivalry with J Balvin spills over into rolled Rs that spray like bullets. Few of his detractors are spared; credit to his bassist and drummer for keeping pace.
- BJ The Chicago Kid “Long Time”
Recording in Al Green’s studio with Green’s equipment gives this track its tone, though Green never used a beat that sounded like a rug being beat against a porch. The lyrics deal with a different kind of ghost.
- Ivan Cornejo “Donde Estás”
Americans’ widening acceptance of hispanic dance music seems to halt at more traditional Mexican styles even while Peso Pluma and Gera MX sell out large venues. Ivan Cornejo’s heartache needs no translation as this fumbling guitarrón overflows into a sea of reverb.
- Blonde Redhead “Sit Down for Dinner Pt. 1 & 2”
This bisected song drew its inspiration from Joan Didion’s The Year Of Magical Thinking, which itself came from Didion’s husband suddenly dying in the midst of a separate, family health crisis. “Pt. 1” handles the initial shock and mourning, while “Pt. 2” finds time moving along without remorse.
- Burna Boy “Big 7”
Another death-inspired song, Nigerian superstar Burna Boy uses “Big 7” as a celebration of life. A summer jam that could be extended by another minute, the video features Busta Rhymes and RZA in possibly the most upbeat cameo of their careers.
- MUNNYCAT “TACO TRUCK (oh, wtf?)”
This L.A.-based duo escaped the Rust Belt by bankrolling their career through licensed music. Occasionally, they drop a single like this one–about a missed connection at a mobile food van–with the imagination of Gwen Stefani meeting Flaming Lips in The LEGO Movie.
- DROELOE “Foolish Fish”
The title possibly refers to a cosmos/occult-themed YouTube channel while DROELOE searches for answers to his own crisis. His doubts about such beliefs ultimately comes forward (“What if I’m wrong?”) but the real battle is with a Gorillaz-ish earworm melody that moles its way through his problems.
- Susanne Sundfør “leikara ljóð”
Sundfør never hesitates to brandish her pipes, but here their role is a tool that can bridge the gap between double-dutch jump rope, Gospel, and ABBA. The a cappella arrangement would be brave if it weren’t so well suited.
- Vanessa Tha Finessa “Top Notch”
The final track on her debut EP, “Top Notch”’s playground handclaps like “Miss Mary Mack” combine with nearly calypso vocals as Vanessa Tha Finessa announces herself. It’s like getting your ass kicked in the schoolyard.
