Pop

The ‘90s were an unstable moment for female-driven pop music. Coming out of new wave and post-punk, the decade’s mainstream pop struggled to find its true identity within the context of the grunge of Hole, the coffee-house croonings of Sarah McLachlan, and the hip-hop stylings of Lauryn Hill and the Fugees. Then came the divine intervention of Britney Spears and producer Max Martin, two of the musicians responsible for infusing bubblegum pop with the vitality and sugary veneer of pounding Swedish house and electropop. With their provocative and skirt-shakin’ single “...Baby One More Time,” which featured clean dance rhythms, driving piano chords, and cresting synths, they transformed the game. The next few years saw the infiltration of the new style into the music of both established and rising pop stars such as Christina Aguilera, Mariah Carey, Brandy, Monica, and more, ushering in a new era of pop history.

On August 20, Frank Ocean released his first full-length work in four years (two if you count the soundtrack for the Endless visual album). As Blonde (alternately spelled as Blond) reached Apple Music, Ocean organized giveaways of a limited-edition magazine, Boys Don’t Cry, at four pop-up shops around the globe. A page in the magazine lists Blonde contributors, inspirations, and sample sources; as of this writing, it’s the only evidence of official album credits he’s given us so far.As a result, half of this playlist references Blonde guests such as Beyonce, Kendrick Lamar, Andre 3000, and Tyler, the Creator, and session players like Om’mas Keith of Sa-Ra Creative Partners. However, the other half of the list attempts to deduce how Ocean created his new album’s dense computer washes and hazy, amniotic sound. Thanks to the aforementioned Boys Don’t Cry tip sheet, we know that Brian Eno’s ambient explorations, Jonny Greenwood’s moody soundtracks, and Jamie xx’s melancholy club tracks make up his sources. There are parallels to Bradford Cox of Deerhunter’s fluid sexuality and adolescent anomie, Raury’s blend of airy indie-rock and conscious rap, Julee Cruise’s ethereal “Falling” theme for Twin Peaks, and Mazzy Star’s essential ode to long California drives with nothing to think about, “Fade Into You.” In total, this collection of gospel, electronic, rap, pop and rock numbers are a varied contrast to Blonde’s washed-out haze. Think of Ocean as a good chef who reduced dozens of ingredients into a tonally consistent and thought-provoking work.

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.