YEAR IN REVIEW
Ben Rayner’s hopelessly subjective opinion after year of too many albums to assess
After a year of too many albums to assess, Ben Rayner makes his picks for 2017’s best, including Pleasure, from Canada’s Feist,
My discomfort with doing these year-end “best of” lists has grown, over what has somehow turned into two decades of doing these year-end “best of” lists, in direct proportion to the ever more unfathomable amounts of music floating around out there in the electronic ether with each passing year that I will never have a chance to hear.
“It’s a full-time job keeping up with that stuff,” people say. Well, I have that full-time job. It is literally my full-time job to keep up with that stuff and I can barely keep pace with it. No single human being could possibly grasp the ins and outs of every sexy new sound, incipient trend and influential underground scene heating up the internet at a given moment in 2017, let alone predict which next-big-thing niche sensation will actually be next to crack wide while simultaneously trying to keep tabs on whoever Taylor Swift and Kanye West have pop “beef” with day to day.
On top of that, I had a daughter three days into 2017. The baby’s fondness for Courtney Barnett and the Beaches notwithstanding, I’ve listened to much less music than I’m accustomed to over the past 12 months. I have driven myself to complete exhaustion and the verge of a nervous breakdown over the past couple of weeks pathologically playing year-end catch-up with a lot of records I didn’t spend enough time with in 2017, on the off chance that I might have missed something mindblowing. And I’m sure I still have.
So I won’t pretend that the following list is in any way authoritative. This is just a list of records that one guy who’s really into records kind of dug in 2017. Feist: Pleasure Pleasure does not immediately announce itself as such, and probably never will if you’re still holding out for The Reminder 2.0. Put in some time with Toronto singer/songwriter Leslie Feist’s stark, skeletal, (soul-) scraping fifth LP though and you hit this moment where a switch flips in your head and all the songs you weren’t quite sure were there before suddenly come into focus and completely take over your life. Don’t believe me? Put in the time. Feist’s best yet. The xx: I See You Insular London trio the xx’s first two albums were sufficiently intimate and minimal to give you the uncomfortable feeling that you were eavesdropping on whispered lovers’ pillow talk. On I See You, it’s like someone bugged that bedroom and piped the audio over one of resident beat-maker Jamie xx’s big-room DJ sets. Subtly. An exquisite step forward into a wider universe of sound the xx has yet to fully grasp. Gord Downie: Introduce Yerself I know a lot of people who still can’t bring themselves to listen to this one and I understand why, but the late Tragically Hip frontman’s final solo album — a series of goodbye notes to specific people in his life recorded with unobtrusive, respectful help from Broken Social Scene’s Kevin Drew — is a shatteringly beautiful piece of work and a tremendous monument to the man, his music, his poetry and his spirit. Casper Skulls: Mercy Works The Skulls are only a couple of years old and only just getting started on the process of translating all the “right” influences — Sonic Youth, Television, the Cure, the Fall, Joy Division, Pavement, etc. — into something truly their own on their debut LP Mercy Works. But, oh, how spectacularly they’re getting started. This one really creeps up on you. The Beaches: Late Show Fun wins. If two major labels on both sides of the Canada/U.S. border can’t turn this blast of rock ’n’ roll snark into a hit, it’s not these four young Toronto ladies’ fault. Late Show is hit after hit after hit. And “Money” might just be the single of the year. Kendrick Lamar: DAMN. All the bells and whistles on To Pimp a Butterfly were nice and all, but Kendrick doesn’t need ’em. And leaner and meaner doesn’t translate to any less deep when you’re as gifted a wordsmith as he is. Jen Cloher: Jen Cloher Wherein a sardonic Australian rock ’n’ roll lifer turns disenchantment with the music business and jealousy of her younger partner’s burgeoning success into the best album of her career. And gets that younger partner — Courtney Barnett — to wail away on guitar over the whole thing. Weaves: Wide Open Toronto art-punk deconstructionists aim for the cheap seats while still leaving their customary inscrutability intact and inviting Tanya Tagaq along for the ride. Alvvays: Antisocialites A more refined take on the ooeygooey jangle-pop fizz that made 2014’s Alvvays album such a keeper, buoyed along as always by the blackly erudite wit and utterly golden voice of Molly Rankin. Japandroids: Near to the Wild Heart of Life Coz sometimes you just gotta kick out the jams. With . . . added nuance. Julien Baker: Turn Out the Lights Oh, trust me, fellow fans of 2015’s Sprained Ankle: you’ll still cry. Only now you cry in hi-fi. Queens of the Stone Age: Villains Josh Homme et al. put a little extra wiggle in their collective step with some help from Mark Ronson. A bit slower to take than previous Queens albums, but it makes sense if you’ve been paying attention all along. Honourable Mentions Beliefs, Habitat; The Jesus and Mary Chain, Damage & Joy; ReTROS, Before the Applause; Fiver, Audible Songs from Rockwood; Broken Social Scene, Hug of Thunder; Sampha, Process; Daniel Caesar, Freudian; Partner, In Search of Lost Time; The Weather Station, The Weather Station; Death From Above, Outrage! Is Now; Emily Haines, Choir of the Mind; Run the Jewels, RTJ3; Wire, Silver/Lead; Arcade Fire, Everything Now; Austra, Future Politics; Sheer Mag, Need to Feel Your Love; Nine Inch Nails, Add Violence; Land of Talk, Life after Youth.