Subscribe to the Spotify playlist right here.Lady Gaga once seemed so untouchable, perched on skyscraping heels while spinning dirty innuendos into chart-topping gold. But like the fame she has so gloriously glorified, shes also fickle—sometimes to a fault. Now, she simply wants to be our slightly wild drinking buddy eager to cause a scene at the dive bar in her Bud Light crop top and ratty cut-offs. Or at least this is the scrappy image shes conceived for her fourth solo album, Joanne.Since her arrival, Gaga has been constantly, exhaustedly calculating her next move. On Joanne, she speeds up that process, attempting reinvention with nearly every song. It makes for a scattered album with little focus: Even the title, named after her late aunt who died young of lupus, makes no sense in the context of, say, the reggae-tinged self-pleasuring ode "Dancin in Circles."But it also makes for one of pops more exciting releases of 2016. And thats partially due to her choice of collaborators: She pushes for indie cred by enlisting Tame Impalas Kevin Parker for "Perfect Illusion," a move that becomes somewhat overshadowed by Mark Ronsons disco-fied production and the chorus likeness to Madonnas "Papa Dont Preach." Queens of the Stone Age’s Josh Homme is more successful at pulling that rock-bred rawness out of her on the Springsteen-soaring, Pat Benatar-nodding anthem "Diamond Heart."But when Gaga ditches the 80s glamour, she makes an even better case as a convincing Spaghetti western seductress alongside hippie-eccentric Father John Misty on "Sinners Prayer"; a slinky soul sister to Florence Welch on "Hey Girl"; and even a country crossover star, making the gorgeous ballad "Joanne" her "Jolene" and giving Taylor one more thing to shake off with the honky-tonkin "A-Yo," co-penned by Nashville hitmaker Hillary Lindsey. Forget that dive bar girl— with all that (and more), Gaga suddenly seems untouchable again.For this playlist we attempt to trace the influences and collaborators behind Joanne, which deserves way more than one listen to fully unpack.
Were now living in an era in which an alternative band sees a guitar as nothing buta shiny accessory. Yes, folks, weve made it back to the synthpop future (the 80s, that is). And while the sound has been a big part of this millenniums musical DNA, from its most ethereal potential to its cheesiest excesses, its now officially reached stadium—or, dare we say, stratospheric—status. like Bastille and Chrvches are embracing all the hallmarks of soaring arena rock—slow builds and huge hooks—and taking them on EDMs thundering path to euphoria via a retro-futuristic rocket. Even modern folk heroes like Mumford & Sons havetossed aside their mandolins to get in on the fun. What results are glittery and glossy pop anthems, built on synths and samplers, that feel downright galactic. Heck, some artists have even based their whole existence on this celestial idea. See: M83, Empire of the Sun, and Walk the Moon.
While little on this playlist would otherwise be deemed "folk," everything here retains that genres elegant simplicity—all shot through a moody ambient soundscape. Justin Vernon of Bon Iver is the absolute king of this sparse, lonely sound, ever-enhancing it through velvety guitars, samples, and fragmented beats, while his cohort James Blake creates such fragile atmospheres from a whole different angle: bass music and hip-hop. But they blend seamlessly together (just see their "I Need a Forest Fire" collaboration), alongside Radiohead (who can lift you into a dream-like state like no other), Daughter (whose hushed electro-folk is absolutely gut-wrenching), and a few of their most notable IDM and ambient influences.
The ’90s have never sounded better than they do right now—especially for modern-day indie rockers. There’s no shortage of bands banging around these days whose sound suggests formative phases spent soaking up vintage ’90s indie rock. Not that the neo-’90s sound is itself a new thing. As soon as the era was far enough away in the rearview mirror to allow for nostalgia to set in (i.e., the second half of the 2000s), there were already some young artists out there onboarding ’90s alt-rock influences. But more recently, there’s been a bumper crop of bands that betray a soft spot for a time when MTV still played music videos and streaming was just something that happened in a restroom. In this context, the literate, lo-fi approach of Pavement has emerged as a particularly strong strand of the ’90s indie tapestry, and it isn’t hard to hear echoes of their sound in the work of more recent arrivals like Kiwi jr. or Teenage Cool Kids. Cherry Glazerr frontwoman Clementine Creevy seems to have a feeling for the kind of big, dirty guitar riffs that made Pacific Northwestern bands the kings of the alt-rock heap once upon a time. The world-weary, wise-guy angularity of Car Seat Headrest can bring to mind the lurching, loose-limbed attack of Railroad Jerk. And laconic, storytelling types like Nap Eyes stand to prove that there’s still a bright future ahead for those who mourn the passing of Silver Jews main man David Berman. But perhaps the best thing about a face-off between the modern indie bands evoking ’90s forebears and the old-school artists themselves is the fact that in this kind of competition, everybody wins.
It may be that 2019 was the best year for ’90s metal since, well, 1999. Bands from the decade of Judgment Night re-emerged with new creative twists and tweaks: Tool stretched out into polyrhythmic madness, Korn bludgeoned with more extreme and raw despair, Slipknot added a new drummer (Max Weinberg’s kid!) who gave them a new groove, and Rammstein wrote an anti-fascism anthem that caused controversy in Germany (and hit No. 1 there too). Elsewhere, icons of the era returned in unique ways: Nine Inch Nails’ Trent Reznor scored a superhero TV series, Primus’ Les Claypool teamed up with Sean Lennon for some quirky psych rock, and Faith No More’s Mike Patton made an avant-decadent LP with ’70s soundtrack king Jean-Claude Vannier. Finally, the soaring voice of Linkin Park’s Chester Bennington returned for a moment thanks to Lamb of God guitarist Mark Morton, who released a song they recorded together in 2017.
Taking a look at the playlists for my show on Boston’s WZBC might give the more seasoned college-radio listener a bit of déjà vu: They’re filled with bands like Versus, Team Dresch, and Sleater-Kinney, who were at the top of the CMJ charts back in the ’90s. But the records they released in 2019 turned out to be some of the year’s best rock. Versus, whose Ex Nihilo EP and Ex Voto full-length were part of a creative run for leader Richard Baluyut that also included a tour by his pre-Versus outfit Flower and his 2000s band +/-, put out a lot of beautifully thrashy rock; Team Dresch returned with all cylinders blazing and singers Jody Bleyle and Kaia Wilson wailing their hearts out on “Your Hands My Pockets”; and Sleater-Kinney confronted middle age head-on with their examination of finding one’s footing, The Center Won’t Hold.Italian guitar heroes Uzeda—who have been putting out proggy, riff-heavy music for three-plus decades—released their first record in 13 years, the blistering Quocumque jerceris stabit; Imperial Teen, led by Faith No More multi-instrumentalist Roddy Bottum, kept the weird hooks coming with Now We Are Timeless; and high-concept Californians That Dog capped off a year of reissues with Old LP, their first album since 1997. Juliana Hatfield continued the creative tear she’s been on this decade with two albums: Weird, a collection of hooky, twisty songs that tackle alienation with searing wit, and Juliana Hatfield Sings the Police, her tribute record to the dubby New Wave chart heroes (in the spirit of the salute to Olivia Newton-John she released in 2018). And our playlist finishes with Mary Timony, formerly of the gnarled rockers Helium and currently part of the power trio Ex Hex, paying tribute to her former Autoclave bandmate Christina Billotte via an Ex Hex take on “What Kind of Monster Are You?,” one of the signature songs by Billotte’s ’90s triple threat Slant 6.
