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Regardless of what you think qualitatively about Drake’s music, or his progression as an artist, his impact on culture is undeniable. He’s a pop idol in a classical, pre-pomo sense; his fans not only devour his music, they model their ideas about fashion, art, and even sports around the Toronto emcee. In ranking the songs that defined the “Drake era,” the Fader staff make note that “this is not a “Best Of” or a ranking of any sort, but an acknowledgement of the songs that represent Drake’s expanding influence in music, culture, and our lives.” It’s a subtle but interesting distinction, but nonetheless interesting: they’re not pulling their favorite songs, or even his most popular songs, but tracks that capture the Drake zeitgeist.

‘90s R&B has emerged as a default sample source for hip-hop and R&B over the past few years. You can credit Drake for pushing this into the mainstream, but the predominance of ‘90s samples in alternative R&B, and the impact of artist such as The Weeknd or Bryson Tiller on pop music, has added wood to the slow-burning fire. And it’s a good match; the looseness and more textural sounds of Genuine or Alliyah provide a nice counterpoint to the aggressiveness of modern, EDM-influenced R&B. This playlist focuses on the songs that have sampled ‘90s R&B, rather than the source material itself. It would be nice if they paired the sampling and sampled songs, but, as it is, the playlist is a nice survey of the genre’s more mellow side.

The electropop of Australian producer/DJ Flume certainly moves—the tracks on his latest album are full of dizzying drops, deep, tough rhythms, and gorgeous, sky-climbing pop hooks—but there’s a sludgy textural element that adds weight and helps him stand apart from the pack of superstar DJs. His latest album, 2016’s Skin, is a perfect piece of post-everything pop maximalism, and his hand-curated Spotify playlist serves as a virtual index to his influences. Jeremih bumps up against MF DOOM, while Boyz Noize share airtime with Sigur Rós. The assortment would make no sense unless you’re familiar with Flume, but, for the initiated, it’s damn near perfect.

This post is part of our Psych 101 program, an in-depth, 14-part series that looks at the impact of psychedelia on modern music. Want to sign up to receive the other installments in your inbox? Go here. Already signed up and enjoying it? Help us get the word out by sharing it on Facebook, Twitter or just sending your friends this link. Theyll thank you. We thank you.The neo-psychedelic impulse is now so deeply embedded in modern rock that it’s damn near impossible to single it out as a trend at this point. Everything changed when The Flaming Lips’ cuddly, fuzzy, Kermit-the-Frog-gone-shroomin’ freak-pop entered mainstream consciousness in the early ’00s. It wasn’t long before bands as diverse as Animal Collective, My Morning Jacket, Tame Impala, and MGMT—all of whom certainly spent considerable time tripping balls to the The Soft Bulletin—began filtering indie pop, electronica, folk-rock, and beyond through their own, unique neo-psychedelic lenses. But while most of these groups do fall on the cute and fuzzy side, there also exist outfits like King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard and Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats, who prefer devastatingly mind-bending riff and roll.

Of Montreal may be nearly two decades removed from their days as Elephant 6 upstarts, yet the collective’s unmistakable blend of eccentric DIY ethos and ’60s pop hooks continues to haunt the Georgia group’s music — including 2016’s Innocence Reaches. The same holds true for indie rock as a whole. Inspect the genre’s rank and file and the dreamily melodic flavors of Neutral Milk Hotel, Olivia Tremor Control, The Apples in Stereo, and all their blissed out pals continue to exert a powerful influence. In addition to spotlighting key tracks from Elephant’s 6’s charter members, our playlist ropes in notable outliers such as neo-psych brats The Essex Green and the utterly indescribable A Hawk and a Hacksaw.

These queens of the modern slow jam have been snaking their way from underground roots into mainstream consciousness like syrup dripping from a stack of candied pancakes, their mesmeric beats and honeyed vocals provoking slow-burning critical recognition. The R&B swagger and soul-drenched seduction of the genres 90s lodestars are all present and correct here, but this is foremost a playlist of unapologetic female power; palpable sexuality, personal mastery unleashed through siren calls, witchy domination car-pooling with low-rider soul. Here, Colombian native Kali Uchis filters Cali sun through a vintage lens, while Odd Futures Syd tha Kyd laces excruciatingly breathy vocals with funk-fueled, dirty bass; Beyoncé nods to her forebears with slick production and urgent harmonies, and scrappy Londoner Tirzah chops and screws her way through woozy heartbreak.

Don’t try looking up pop-mosh on urbandictionary.com. It’s so street that only those kids deep into everything Warped-related use it to tag tracks in their music libraries. It refers to the recent explosion of metalcore and post-hardcore bands who add melodic vocals, big room synths, and/or thumping beats to their gutter howls and bruising breakdowns. While some of the groups, A Day to Remember and Of Mice and Men among them, still sound very crunchy and riff-centric, others, including The Amity Affliction and I See Stars, are inching closer to an aggro brand of art pop. Then there’s Bring Me the Horizon and Issues: These party monsters are so down with EDM they may as well be hanging with Steve Aoki and Skrillex at Ultra. -- Justin Farrar

A spark that connects the feminine spirit with its masculine counterpart can create an undeniable musical dynamic. And it doesnt always come from a place of lust or romance (though, lets admit, any sort of sexual tension or frustration can inspire incredibly timeless art—just see Rumours). This idea has especially taken hold among a generation of indie folk and pop couples and collectives, who, coincidentally, have been inspired by bands like Fleetwood Mac in creating homespun tales that reveal universal truths of love and heartache via big pop hooks—and sometimes some serious fiddle. Male/female harmonies are a key ingredient when creating the best type of clap-happy sing-alongs (Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes), cathartic bursts of banjo-infused rock (The Head and The Heart), and acoustic ballads so intimate it feels sinful just to listen to (The Civil Wars). And, yes, some of these tracks do reflect real-life fireworks—or their dwindling remains—between certain band members (we miss you, Rilo Kiley!). -- Stephanie Garr

Since the first VMA ceremony in 1984, where Madonna performed “Like a Virgin” and David Bowie won the first Video Vanguard Award, the VMAs have served as a benchmark for pop culture artistry. This year’s video nominees are no different. Bowie’s arresting “Blackstar” felt like a dispatch from beyond the grave, while Drake’s “Hotline Bling” became a neon-soaked instant classic. Kanye West’s provocative, queasy “Famous,” featuring wax replicas of the naked celebrities, was both a celebration and condemnation of celebrity culture, while Justin Bieber’s “Sorry” relied on the juxtaposition between its celebratory images and the song’s pleading lyrics. These are all beautiful videos, but they’re also great tracks. This playlist collects the seductive and dramatic songs that inspired this year’s top videos.

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.