Best of 2016

Subscribe to the Spotify playlist right here.I like to stay active—I work out, I go on walks, I do yoga. Each activity I do comes with a different set of musical criteria, though—for example, when I do yoga each morning, I almost exclusively listen to drone or black metal. At the gym, however, when I’m on the elliptical or lifting weights, I like to get lost in modern jams. This is the special time of day in which I don’t have to listen to classical music for work, I don’t have to write, I don’t have to do any thinking at all. I can just rock ‘n roll. This year has seen a number of great additions to my workout jam repertoire, from Bowie’s incredible final album to Swans’ brilliant and aggressive The Glowing Man, both of which have seen so much gym time that I now think about bicep curls and stairmasters every time I hear them. My top exercise album of the year has unquestionably been The Life of Pablo, which should come as no surprise to anyone who has spent more than five minutes talking to me. I listened to that album so many times while going for runs that I think my heartbeat is permanently synced up to its flow. Here is a playlist of some of my favorite gym tunes of the year. I have structured it so that you could actually listen to it during a workout. It starts with a new recording of the “Allemande” from Bach’s C minor French Suite, which should aid you in some elegant stretching. Then, the blood gradually starts flowing with Aphex Twin’s “Cheetah 7b.” By the time the climax of Ashbringer’s “In Remembrance” hits, you should be completely in the zone, ready to take on the world… or at least hit a new high in your preferred routine. Some moderate songs follow, allowing you to relax as you maintain your peak, then coming down with The Field’s “The Follower” and, finally, getting back into the real world with Nick Cave’s sobering “I Need You.”

Subscribe to the Spotify playlist here.It was, by many metrics, a terrible, terrible year. But it happened to be an excellent year for ambient music—and that turned out to be incredibly fortuitous, since nothing works better than ambient music when youre in the mood to close the blinds and crawl under the covers for the next four (or, God help us, eight) years.There was so much great ambient music this year that it inspired a number of commentators to ask whether we were in the midst of a comeback. Id venture that ambient music never went away, assuming you knew where to look for it. But its certainly true that this years crop of quality ambient music amply proved just how varied the form can be. Huerco S. gave us lo-fi ambient techno slathered in tape hiss. Former Emeralds member Steve Hauschildt kept perfecting his blissed-out Tangerine Dreamscapes. Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith paired burbling arpeggios with wild vocal processing, while Julianna Barwick looped her own voice into a soft, tenebrous web.There was a surprising amount of guitar-based music that fit an ambient sensibility this year: Christian Naujoks paid tribute to Durutti Column on a lovely LP for Hamburgs Dial label; Tortoise member Jeff Parker explored skeletal atmospheres on his solo album Slight Freedom; and super-producer Daniel Lanois spun pure gossamer out of pedal steel on the masterful Goodbye to Language.One of the years most interesting developments in ambient music may have been the return of what Jon Hassel termed "Fourth World" music. Motion Graphics, Visible Cloaks, and the New York duo Georgia all paid tribute to the digital synthesizers and rippling textures of Japanese ambient and new age music of the 1980s; an artist named Slow Attack Ensemble even covered the Japanese duo Inoyama Lands 1983 song "Mizue" on a beautiful album called Soundscapes for the Emotional-Type Listener. And both Andrew Pekler and the duo of Jan Jelinek and Masayoshi Fujita delved into ideas of otherness and exoticism on their respective albums for Jelineks Faitiche label this year.Thats just scratching the surface; I havent even mentioned the ambient-leaning techno from Studio OST (White Materials Galcher Lustwerk and Alvin Aronson), or the broken-down synthesizer experiments from Kassem Mosses Honest Jons LP, or the jewel-toned clouds of tone Tim Hecker whipped up, or the spirit-channeling mysticism of Anna Homler and Steve Moshiers Breadwoman, an early-80s cassette that the deep-digging RVNG label rescued for contemporary ears. And special mention goes to Sarah Davachi, who is responsible for not one but two of the years finest ambient albums: Dominions and Vergers, both of them examples of drone music at its most meditatively breathtaking. If its respite youre craving, youll find plenty of escape routes on this two-and-a-half-hour playlist.

Subscribe to the Spotify playlist here.This playlist shouldn’t be interpreted as a best of 2016 mix. That would be insanely presumptuous of me. Rather, it needs to be considered a useful tool for anybody looking to explore just a fraction of the heavy, propulsive, and oftentimes weird beats forged on the outskirts of boring person normal culture. Simply press play and get blasted: there’s mangled hip-hop stutter (Prostitutes), aggro industrial fist-pumping (Orphx, M AX NOI MACH), meticulously sculpted hard techno (Cassegrain), dub-smeared throb (LACK), and pounding white noise that sounds like the next evolutionary step beyond Lightning Bolt and Death Grips (Dreamcrusher). You’re also going to encounter a few artists who are more rooted in rock than electronic tactics, yet make no mistake: they’re just as doggedly loyal to raw propulsion. The New York duo Uniform slayed 2016 with their vicious iteration of cyborg automation caked in gutter scum. Lost System, meanwhile, are pulsating synth-punk upstarts from West Michigan (a.k.a. DeVos country) chronicling Millennial alienation, while America flushes itself down the toilet. I’d wish you a happy new year, but we noth know that’s not going to happen.

Subscribe to the Spotify playlist here.Rap fans over 30 no longer ditch the genre for grown and sexy R&B — throwback rap as a radio format exploded in 2016 nationwide. So its time to start seriously considering rappers in their 40s to be the Greatest Generation in rap. Guys like Fat Joe, Snoop, Nas, Tribe, Mobb Deep, etc came up in the 90s, when budgets and deals and label options were abundant. Their albums were considered failures if they ONLY sold 300K units. You could write 25 verses a year to fulfill one album and be done — no constant mixtapes, features, Soundcloud exclusives, radio freestyles, etc. You had a lot of mystique — people only knew something about you if you said it in a magazine, put it on wax, on a video, or in your CD booklet Thank Yous. To start your career under those circumstances and still want to keep going in a world of $0.06 royalty checks from Spotify really speaks to the character of men who now have kids to put through college.Guys like Snoop, Kool Keith, and E-40 have maximized their personas to attract various revenue streams through TV shows, toys, movies, etc. Indie artists like Aesop Rock and Run the Jewels have adapted to the new economy with extensive merch options, tours, and licensing to movie soundtracks and television. RTJ even tapped into the Marvel Comics audience with multiple comic book covers dedicated to their iconic logo. Fat Joe eschewed an album altogether by aiming for the top with "All the Way Up,” a staple in pro sports arenas, ESPN commercials, and daytime radio. De La Soul crowdsourced a No. 1 album while A Tribe Called Quest recorded their comeback record in secret and performed on SNL with Dave Chappelle the week of its release. Nas, an investor in the razor company Bevel, promoted the crap out of his product on his revitalized smash "Nas Album Done" with DJ Khaled. Ka, who didnt break out until he was 38 years old, caught hell from New York tabloids for his firefighting day job and "objectionable" lyrics about cops shooting black people, all the while self-financing another great album gobbled up by his diehard fanbase. Havoc of Mobb Deep released a surprisingly outstanding solo LP The Silent Partner with Alchemist thats just as dark and nihilistic as any Mobb release in the late 90s. Geechi Suede of Camp Los latest solo single "Phone Check" would fit perfectly next to the groups smash single "Lucchini" in 1997. A Tribe Called Quest made their best album since 1993s classic Midnight Marauders. And Snoop cemented himself as the official rapper for all barbecues with his latest LP Coolaid almost 25 years after the release of Doggystyle.None of this would matter if The Greatest Generation in Rap wasnt as sharp as they were when Arsenio Hall was the apex of hip. This group will most likely be doing it well into their 50s — E-40 is 49 years old, Jay-Z just turned 47. Kool Keith’s age can only be quantified by the color of whatever wig he wears this week. This was a great year for rap fans who now stream their music in minivans.

Subscribe to the Spotify playlist here.2016 was a year of insurgent indie label artists breaking through to hip-hop radio, including Young M.A, YFN Lucci, and Chance The Rapper, whose jubilant gospel rap sound crossed over from self-released mixtapes to mainstream stardom with the help of killer guest verses by 2 Chainz and Lil Wayne on “No Problems.” Kevin Gates’s long-simmering buzz finally paid off with his first two platinum singles, the sweetly melodic “2 Phones” and the rampaging “Really Really.” Lil Yachty led the charge of a new generation of teen rappers with his breakout guest verse on D.R.A.M.’s “Broccoli.” And mainstays of radio playlists like Drake, Future, and Young Thug continued to dominate the airwaves along with post-prison comebacks from veterans Gucci Mane and Remy Ma.

Subscribe to the Spotify playlist here.Those who can’t remember the ‘60s may be doomed to repeat them, but that may be more a blessing than a curse. Though other eras ebb and flow in terms of their musical influence on the present moment, the Age of Aquarius appears to be a constantly churning river that runs through every subsequent period in pop culture, providing inspiration anew to each fresh crop of strummers, slammers, and shouters. 2016 was no exception to this phenomenon—of the albums released over the course of the year, there was no shortage of records sporting a significant ‘60s flavor. Of course even among ‘60s fetishists, everyone has their own variation. For instance, current troubadours like Ryley Walker and Itasca show fealty to the acoustic guitar-wielding folkie songsmiths of bygone days, while The Explorers Club and Seth Swirsky pay homage to the sunshine pop powers of The Beach Boys and their ilk, and Night Beats and The Warlocks represent the drop-some-acid-and-floor-the-distortion-pedal approach to psychedelia. All in all, 2016 turned out to be a pretty good year for the ‘60s.

Subscribe to the Spotify playlist right here.Within the ever-evolving world of Latin music, we’ve seen some sensational moments and headline-grabbing spectacles in 2016. Colombian urban powerhouse J Balvin solidified himself as the reigning king of the new reggaetón movement via the skyrocketing Energía; Marc Anthony and J.Lo stunned global audiences with their surprise reunion at this year’s Latin GRAMMYS with a tropical rendition of Pimpinela’s “Olvídame y pega la vuelta” (and their now-infamous kiss!); our beloved Mexican legend Juan Gabriel passed away too soon yet left behind a charming duets document, Los Dúo 2, starring everyone in Latin music and their mothers (well, not really, but you get the point). Because these buzzed-about folks and their 2016 material are doing so well without our help, having a spot secured in nearly every big publication out there, we’ve decided to spotlight some sparkly hidden gems, exciting artists worthy of your discovery, and killer songs you might have missed by respectable acts. And boy, do these 50 Best Tracks resonate loudly in our hearts.Spunky electro-pop wunderkinds Alex Anwandter, Cineplexx, and Selma Oxor kept things intriguingly hyperactive through iridescent synths and a dash of mystery. Hypnotic electro-tropical masterminds Systema Solar, Compass, and Orkesta Mendoza continued to bend the boundaries of cumbia and folkloric sounds via their dashing experimentalism and love of tradition. Alt-norteño took the throne in unconventionalism in the good hands of regional Mexican iconoclasts Juan Cirerol and Helen Ochoa while staying true to form. Debaucherous punk made waves across borders through the awesomely cacophonic powerchords of daredevils AJ Davila, Sexy Zebras, and Los Nastys. For our utter excitement, we also saw the return of alternative rock royalty Café Tacvba, Los Fabulosos Cadillacs, and Andrés Calamaro. Oh, and not to mention 2016 also brought us surprisingly killer renditions delivered by the likes of Mexrrissey and Vanessa Zamora. Here are the 50 most riveting tracks hailing from indie and non-conformist Latinx acts. Happy listening!

Subscribe to the Spotify playlist right here.Dark music is often defined by an instrumentalist’s skill: guitarist Dave Mustaine’s mastery of his six-string made Megadeath legends, the controlled metallic baritone of Nine Inch Nail’s Trent Reznor put mall-goth on the map. These particular manipulations are amplified in noise music insofar as they are changed, strained, crushed and elongated. By definition the genre is contradictory—how is noise, music?—and as a result, challenges thinking about silences. When looped vocal techniques are distorted, feedback is allowed to prosper, static is treated as an instrument—what is made? This year has been especially interesting for noise—in Puce Mary’s “Night is a Trap ll” Frederikke Hoffmeier’s twisted speakerphone vocals mimic the sounds of an industrial explosion around her; Bruxa Maria’s “Human Condition” acts in discordance with every element in its songwriting, Gill Dread’s high-pitched holler placed below the sounds of sharp saws running unmanned. Far removed from their powerelectronics are the ambient, animalistic found sounds of David Toop’s “For a Language to Come,” and the Wagnerian haunt of The Stargazer’s Assistant. In 2016, a year filled with noise politically and otherwise, a genre embraces the pandemonium.

2016 was bleak for lots of reasons: a giant Cheeto dumb dumb managed to ass-chat his way into the Oval Office, some other jockstraps decided to kill a bunch of innocent people in Florida and Nice, and the Zika virus stuck two fingers up to modern medicine. But its also the year during which I finally chased down, and jumped, my dream. Three years ago, after a whole lot of soul-searching and desperately trying to convince myself I loved living in London and getting shit-faced six days a week, I realized what I really wanted was a simple life. To return to the countryside, to the woods, with my beloved. So we worked and we planned, and in December 2015, we left our jobs and friends and families in the UK, and moved—cat, tortoises, and all—to the Hudson Valley, just a few hours north of New York City. People will remember this year for all its faults, but for me its the year my sister, also an NY resident, gave birth to my niece. Its the year my true love and I bought our first home, a 100-year-old wreck of a farmhouse on 12 acres of organic farmland which were in the middle of gutting and renovating with our own four hands. Its the year I started making more money writing than I do editing. It’s the year I made space for myself. The year I summoned enough courage to leap.And perhaps suitably reflective of the year itself, my soundtrack to 2016 is far stranger than expected. We did a lot of driving before we got our own place, and I listened to the radio a lot. Which meant that I was forced to listen to new(ish) mainstream music, rather than get stuck in my comfortable rabbit holes of whatever artist I was obsessed with at the time. Sure, it took me about 10 months to realize my pickup stereo has a CD player, but for the first half of the year, I ended up listening to a lot of Justin Bieber and Kiiara. A darling friend from home gifted me a Vinyl Me Please subscription as a leaving present, and so Weezer, The Books, and Fugees resurfaced unexpectedly in my life. Sometimes Im homesick, missing my mum terribly, and I turn to things that remind me of her. Nina Simone, Sade, Joan Armatrading. Sometimes Im so blissed out by the peace and quiet that all I want to do is roll up a stonking blunt, close my eyes and fall into some Tirzah, Young Thug, and Bjork. And sometimes I cant believe I moved to this country the year the Cheeto dumb dumb had the misfortune to be “elected”. Then I need Solange and Rihanna. But, odd as this mix is, it captures, in its beautiful weirdness, just how glorious this year has been.

When David Bowie died of liver cancer eight days into the New Year (and two days after the release of his astonishing Blackstar), it was an awfully prescient indication of 2016’s relentlessly downward direction. When news came of Prince’s passing in April — a sudden and surprising event given that the Purple One had seemed his usual vital self the same week as his death, tooling around Minneapolis on his bicycle and shopping on Record Store Day — it felt like a kick in the teeth. How bad could this year get? As it turned out, it could get a lot worse…By December, the list of the departed would range from boomer rock titans (Eagles’ Glenn Frey; Jefferson Airplane’s Paul Kantner; Leon Russell; both Keith Emerson and Greg Lake) to soul and R&B greats (Sharon Jones, Billy Paul, Natalie Cole, Maurice White) to heroes of the underground (Suicide’s Alan Vega, French electronic-music godfather Jean-Jacques Perrey, house-music pioneer Colonel Abrams) to many more gone way too soon (Phife Dawg of A Tribe Called Quest, hardcore-era Beastie Boys guitarist John Berry). While Merle Haggard passed away peacefully in his tour bus, tragic car crashes would claim both Atlanta rapper Shawty Lo and the rising British band Viola Beach. Hell, we even lost Blowfly, dammit, though if it’s any consolation, the hereafter just got a whole lot filthier with the addition of the NC-17-rated R&B showman.Perhaps he’ll find a new friend in Leonard Cohen, another songwriter who prided himself on having a certain expertise on carnal matters. Though his loss was keenly felt in November (especially since the news hit two days after the election), Cohen was just as considerate as Bowie in ensuring he left us with one final masterwork. Sublime tracks from Blackstar and You Want It Darker are part of this collection of songs by singers, songwriters and musicians who’ve been sadly silenced by the fate that’s waiting for the rest of us, too.