For the second year in a row, we polled everyone at The Factual Opinion headquarters to determine the top fifty songs of the year. It was a three-part process: Each participant nominated his or her favorite songs from 2010; Tucker and I sifted through the nominees to come up with a short list of potential candidates; then, we voted. Each participant submitted a ranked list of up to fifty favorites—which were not necessarily limited to the short list—and the results were tallied according to both the total number of votes a song received, and their placement on individual ballots. The results range from UK-garage-influenced pop to skeevy basement electro to frenetic psych rock—and that’s just in the first three entries. The list reflects an equal mix of personal favorites and monolithic singles (and sometimes voters didn’t even know which was which—one participant voted for Cee Lo’s “Fuck You!” thinking that it was an undiscovered gem.) Ultimately, it’s a fair and idiosyncratic overview of 2010—which was, incidentally, a killer year for music. Please enjoy. -MB
50. DJ Zinc – “Wile Out (Feat. Ms. Dynamite)”
I had an instant and unexpected reaction to DJ Zinc’s “Wile Out” and it still happens every time it comes on; when the chorus first drops and tells me to “go girl wile out” I do. I respond as if these are direct orders, dropping my head a little and bopping back and forth like I’m in a huge crowd of people dancing. And I hate huge crowds of people doing anything, so for this song to make me even imagine that’s a good idea is a testament to its power over me. That fat elastic sounding bass and Ms. Dynamite’s playful mastery over the lyrics transcend my usual distaste for the kind of electronic music that is hinted at here and there in the song. “Wile Out” begs us all to let go and shake our assets, and it feels so damn good when we obey, even if it’s just in our living rooms. -SE
49. Flying Lotus – “And the World Laughs With You (Feat. Thom Yorke)”
Quite the little mood-piece we have in “And the World Laughs With You,” isn’t it, friends and neighbors? Flying Lotus brings the smooth obscure-but-beloved-bar-scene funk with lots of robot bloops and whirs. It’s warm and fluid music relying upon the sounds usually embraced by the “how am I so alone amongst all these effing people” set. And so why not add a little Thom Yorke to the equation? You know, because that whole paranoid-trying-to-connect-and-struggling-through-all-of-these-layers-of-these-paranoid-layers sentiment? He kinda famously nailed that. A few times. To the veteran listener (and with Radiohead, the numbers would indicate that every native English speaker under 40 fits this description), his voice is likely fundamentally inextricable from that sentiment. So have him sing about “I need to know that you’re out there” and add some creepy, affected voices assuring the lyrical object that the world laughs with you. Then melt minds in that increasingly comfortable, familiar way. And for all of that, this song is good and fresh and very much of today rather than of 10-or-so-years-ago. That’s called synthesis. And that’s badass. -JW
48. The Black Angels – “Bad Vibrations”
The trick to an album opening fake-out is that it isn't good enough to just lie to the listener about what they're in for—you have to make them fall in love twice, the second time right after the rug gets yanked. For The Black Angels, that second time hits with a gut-born yell right around the 3 1/2 minute mark of “Bad Vibrations,” which is when the door to the stairwell they've lured you down gets slammed shut, the guitars start howling like jungle cats, and the noise doesn't stop until the cellar fills with sweat. This is lounge music. They just made it for animals. -TS
47. Les Savy Fav – “Let’s Get Out of Here”
There’s nothing that says indie rock can’t be rocking, is there? It’s not all sensitive guys singing about their feelings; sometimes, like on Les Savy Fav’s “Let’s Get Out of Here,” it’s a good old “let’s do it,” the kind of song designed to get girls to sleep with you, and that’s what’s going on here. “I want you; let’s get out of here”, simple as that. It probably works wonders for Les Savy Fav, but luckily it’s a nice bit of rock energy for the rest of us, building to that repeated refrain, and maybe even getting some of the rest of us laid too. -MJB
46. Beach House – “Lover of Mine”
True story: I had just gotten a hand-me-down record player fixed, and walked into my local record shop with 20 bones in my pocket, ready to buy the then-newly released Vampire Weekend album. “Lover of Mine” was playing, and I walked out with a copy of the Beach House album instead. The music simply compelled me to do so. That, and I didn’t want the cool kids who worked there to pick on me for still liking Vampire Weekend after their first album. The buzz on this song: “dream pop,” “haunting,” maybe about Norway and maybe not, vaguely reminiscent of Velvet Underground with Nico. The personal reality: much like the buzz, but with the added note that these descriptors don’t do enough to capture the feeling that made me change my plans and plunk $20 on the counter without any hand-wringing at all. -JW
45. Christina Aguilara – “Elastic Love”
Halfway through “Elastic Love,” Xtina informs us that the rubber band that provides the song’s central image is an analogy—a metaphor, if you will. It’s the only literary thing the song gets correct. Across Christina’s collaboration with M.I.A., the ladies mix metaphors (“a lot of love ain’t enough, and so/I don’t know how we gonna find a cure”), mix mixed-metaphors (the rubber band “comes and goes and pins [her] like a trampoline”), and generally spout gobbledygook. Yet, for once you hear these two musical forces come completely untethered from the things that define them—Xtina’s voice and M.I.A.’s purpose. Producer Switch provides them with a bass rumble that pulls, releases, and snaps with the strength of an industrial band, while Xtina literally mimics M.I.A.’s singing voice—which is so beneath her talent it’s like Stravinsky playing “chopsticks.” It’s terrible art, but incredible pop. -MB
44. Vado – “Speaking in Tungs (Feat. Cam’Ron)”
You might be a person who listens to Vado & Cam’Ron’s “Speaking in Tungs” and hears a whole bunch o’ nonsensical nonsense. In fact, you may think it’s one of the more uninteresting rap songs. Not so. Vado puts the poly in polyrhythm. A rap song of such layered and textured beat you can’t help but dancing. Stop for just a moment and count how many different percussive rhythmic tracks are going on. Yeah, that’s right, six. The dude speaking in “tungs,” that thumpin’ bass line, hand claps, a little tambourine here and there, and ooooooh, what’s that now? A snare drum? All underneath a rap-a-liscious vocal track? Whoooo! You should see me dance to this! There’s no way you cannot move your body when you hear this song. Shit—I don’t care what they’re saying, ‘cause the rhythm is doing all the talkin’. So start dancing or getch yo self walkin’! -NS
43. Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti – “Round and Round”
“People boo me everywhere...People don't like it when it seems like you don't know what's happening, or I'm getting bummed out with certain aspects and I can't hide it.”
This quote is the definition of Ariel Pink’s song writing. Born in lush Los Angeles with silver spoon in mouth, Ariel grew up to be the hipster of his dreams. Eternally detached from anything he wants, he has the ability to make any art he wants. Most times disaster strikes, but, on “Round and Round,” Ariel has managed to hit the bulls’ eye blindfolded, on LSD, with his hands tied behind his back. “Round and Round” feels like a collage of three songs and a movie clip, swirling at breakneck speeds until separating, only to be mixed back up again. Multiple Ariels sing harmony upon harmony; hurt Ariel suddenly appears and screams a couple bars to dissipating guitar licks; acting Ariel answers the phone only to be answered by a chorus of ghostly Ariel’s exclaiming “Hold on! I’m calling!” The song is one hell of a trip through one expertly (or accidentally?) crafted imaginary haunted carnival relationship. Just don’t expect him to make anything like it again. -AH
42. Tegan and Sara – “Alligator (Four Tet Remix)”
2009's Sainthood was as close as possible to perfection in this debased world, so Tegan & Sara could have been forgiven for doing anything they wanted as part of their well-earned victory lap. Releasing a long remix LP with no fewer than seventeen versions of "Alligator" was probably not what most people were expecting, but who's complaining? There are some good versions scattered throughout, but it should come as no surprise that Four Tet is the belle of this particular ball. "Alligator" was, to my mind, an odd choice for a second single off Sainthood—a quirky, minor-key, pop song with a jerky melody line, definitely overshadowed on the context of the LP by flashier rock numbers. Four Tet’s Kieran Hebden strips everything but the vocal, warping the melody line into a delicate and intricate descending synth pattern that comes on like a tickle but over the course of five minutes methodically builds into the most epic lullaby ever cooed. Hebden is smart enough to know that the song lives or dies on Sara's plaintive vocal, and as far as that goes he almost betters the original by stripping the performance of any trace of the original's tongue-in-cheek humor, leaving only the unadorned emotion glittering like a naked sunbeam. -TO
41. Lil’ Wayne – “Gonorrhea (Feat. Drake)”
Lil’ Wayne’s “Gonorrhea” was a big one for me, personally. With its slick sci-fi beat and menacing staccato whistles, this Louisiana-by-Mars first single off of I Am Not A Human Being is nothing short of a masterpiece.
• The opening siren, like the Gravitron being set ablaze.
• The way the back steadily drops out, only to usher in his reintroduction: “Weezy Baby a.k.a. ‘Bring The Money Home’/ Pull out an AK and pop ya in ya funny bone/ Laugh now die later muthafucker/ You’s a bitch like Zeta Phi Beta muthafucker”.
• The outrageous zingers: “Smokin’ on that headband / Call that sh-t that Paul Pierce”; the nasty “2 girls, 1 cup” reference; rhyming “diarrhea” with “chia”.
• Drake’s fidelity to Wayne.
• Weezy’s haunting final threat.
• The way it makes me feel when I walk down the street.
That’s the ultimate gift of the self-declared “greatest rapper alive”: when I listen to his music, he makes me feel unstoppable.
Plus, homeboy’s right about Zeta Phi Beta.
Whatever. Wish I never met ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya. -FA
40. Arcade Fire – “Half Light II (No Celebration)”
So, “Half Light II (No Celebration)” is a “continuity” song from Arcade Fire’s concept album. I see you’re snoring already—something like the Gorillaz who could actually tell what song is for what purpose even though the album has thematic points (or Radiohead, which is the band Arcade Fire is really trying to be on The Suburbs), on The Suburbs the division is pretty damn clear—some songs are songs and others are plot points. This isn’t subtle, this isn’t measured—Win Butler starts the song off with, “Now that San Fransisco's gone,” and you’ll know if this is a song for you or not. But, c’mon—it kind of sounds like Achtung Baby. Like, in a good sense. In the bad sense too—it’s pretentious and self-involved as hell, and that’s kind of part of the deal. -SW
39. Ratatat – “Neckbrace”
”Neckbrace” kind of sounds less like a beats-and-guitars Ratatat song and more like a plunderphonic paste-together of a series of breakdowns from a bunch of nonexistent songs. The guitars are there, but so are the weird-ass sound effects, the string stabs that are being played by real people but cut in like a DJ would, the micro-percussion, the bubbling muttering and the Prefuse-style talkbox squawk that makeup the song’s biggest riffs. It’s odd hearing guitars and pianos and punctuation and sound effects as the spine of a song, but here it is, and it shreds. -SW
38. Japandroids – “Younger Us”
Nostalgia is a constant. You’re just as nostalgic in your twenties as you are in your eighties. The difference is that, in your eighties, you’re nostalgic for, I don’t know, shooting a bear or something. In your twenties, you’re nostalgic for your teens—and all of the guilt, awkwardness, and reckless enthusiasm that came with them. Japandroids has staked its entire existence on this principle. They make music that sounds like twenty-somethings playing at puberty—emorriffic, adolescent punk, loaded with wistful longing—and “Younger Us” is both the band’s best and most on-message song . Released as a part of a series of 7” singles from the band’s Post-Nothing sessions, “Younger Us” rattles through a litany of vague remembrances, indulgences, and embarrassments, before ultimately demanding them back. It takes a special kind of nostalgia to scream, “Gimme that naked new skin rash!” –MB
37. Crystal Castles – “Baptism”
The Crystal Castles are ready for the apocalypse, a bleak future where zombies rule the night and no one is free. Expressionless and robot like apathetic cool: check. Frightening and cathartic wails of human voice and word: check. The ability to tear the fuckin’ walls down with simple house synth skullduggery and distorted telephone noises: check. Meet them in the “closet” at Brians place Saturday, after state curfew. Beware of zombies and military police. Tell no one you might not trust. We shall be baptized in the searing sweat of sound tonight my rebel brothers and sisters. -AH
36. Quadron – “Slippin’”
On Quadron’s “Slippin’,” the simple base line, hand claps, and especially that pouty temptress voice singing about weakness, ego and phone obsession transport me to those romantically melancholy days when I can’t get out of the way of my own thoughts or stop looking at Facebook on my iPhone. Ugh. Then the repetition of the keys and the lilting oohs add a lightness, humor and flirtatiousness that put a little smile on my face. The sweetness of this tune dances almost too close to sticky for me sometimes, but there’s a hint of a growl in those vocals and a thickness to the bass that cuts through and adds just the right amount of sexy. And the bit of sax at the end reminds me that I don’t have to take everything so damn seriously. -SE
35. M.I.A. – “XXXO (Rmx Feat. Jay-Z)”
Believe it or not, I'm not really an M.I.A. fan. She's straight or whatever, appropriately catchy, but she's like dead prez in that her music alternates between banging and annoying. The “XXXO” remix, this little three minute track, though, features a strong chorus (ex ex ex ohhhh) and a positively exuberant, party-perfect sound. And then, at the end, we get a verse from Jay-Z that sounds like it could've come from Missy Elliott's "One Minute Man." It's effortless, or maybe easy, but it fits with the song. It's Radio Jay, and more than welcome. –DB
34. No Age – “Glitter”
All that glitters is not gold. Guitar noise glitters. Perfectly placed hand claps can glitter. The perfect combination of loops and drumbeat can glitter. So come on down and check out No Age! They can’t sing or dance but they can sound like shit perfectly. You’ll think its noise at first, but how can noise make you feel so darn good? And what do you know it still glows like glitter! Two guys willing it into being is all you need. So don’t lose hope in those American dreams people! “Don’t fear nothing until it’s broke!” -AH
33. White Ring – “IxC999”
“Ghost House” is kind of a ridiculous name to call a music genre until you hear White Ring’s “IxC999.” There are no go-to comparisons—well you can kinda hear a little bit of David Banner’s thrumming production in there, a little bit of Crytal Castles’ weird abrasiveness, some screwed’n’chopped aesthetics, ... Burial? Goblin’s score work? The track is layered in the same way a good late period Death in Vegas track is. Or an early DJ Shadow one. Scratchy obscure lyrics, dirty south pulse, feedback, shotgun sound effect. Uh, have you ever seen Alice Sweet Alice? The one with Brooke Shields as the kid? Yeah, that. Evil and smart and trunk rattling, this shit sounds like room at the end of Stalker looks. Can’t say any of that about Salem, can you? -SW
32. The Roots – “Right On (Feat. Joanna Newsom & STS)”
Is it just me or is the chorus on “Right On” positively haunting? It's high pitched and slow, which puts it in direct contrast with the verses from Black Thought and Sugar Tongue Slim. The contrast is striking. Newsom feels like part of the song itself, an instrument in ?uestlove's toolbox, while Thought and Slim are coming in from outside to do their thing. Even STS's pre-verse intro, a quiet "Aight," feels like him tagging in for his turn. The beat is a real head-nodder, with ?uesto's drums being the most distinctive thing on the song after Newsom's vocals. Put together, it works, it meshes, and it clicks real hard. The contrast works. –DB
31. Kate Nash – “Do-Wah-Doo”
”Do-Wah-Doo” is the first Kate Nash song I have ever heard, and I am in love. Her voice is like liquid gold, like honey, smoothly laying on top of the driving energy of this song. “Do-Wah-Doo” has got that same recorded quality that The Ronettes’ “Be My Little Baby” has (as did a number of songs on our list), and a fun cheerleader beat. The whole thing makes me think of go-go boots and beehives, and having a carefree good time. Yet, much like Cee Lo Green’s “Fuck You,” the content of the lyrics is sharply juxtaposed to the tone of the song. Or is it? Sometimes it’s just fun to be obstinate and tell everyone exactly what you think, who you don’t like and why. That’s freedom, ya’ll. And freedom is FUN. -NS
By Frankie Alvarez, Matthew J. Brady, David Brothers, Marty Brown, Sarah Engelman, Andre Harris, Tim O’Neil, Nina Stone, Tucker Stone, Sean Witzke, and Josh Woodbeck, 2010
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