Today I continue my ongoing feature showcasing my personal picks for the best songs of the past decade, posting ten songs at a time.
200. 50 Cent – I Get Money
Dr. Dre and Eminem’s protege hasn’t released anything of substance, save for this song, in my opinion. Most would say his first album is pretty good, and that “In Da Club” is an alright song, but they are sadly mistaken. For some reason though, this song, released late in Fiddy’s career, really took a shine to me. Maybe it’s the snare hits, the deep synth line, or the rhythmic sampling. Maybe it’s 50’s dumb rhymes. Maybe it’s because every time I hear this song my thoughts hearken back to a college party when a friend was trying to teach me how to C-walk to this song. Yeah, it’s probably that last one.
Today it was revealed that Plastic Bertrand, the Belgian proto-new wave punk rocker of the 70’s, is not really Plastic Bertrand. A 2006 lawsuit against the singer has revealed this week (via experts in court) that the first four albums from the artist feature the voice of someone else. This includes the 1977 hit “Ca Plane Por Moi,” which was revealed to have been sung by the producer Lou Deprijck, as admitted today by the singer himself.
This is a bit of a shock to music and punk historians, as the song is considered seminal and an important, if not quirky, footnote for the shift from punk to 80’s new-wave. The song, while catchy, is hardly melodic, save for a Beach Boys-lifted four-note falsetto repeated endlessly throughout. The guitar lines and horn riffs serve as rhythm backdrops more than anything, and the lyrics are nonsensical in both French and English. Still, “Ca Plane Por Moi” remains a brilliant piece of pop, even if, starting today, we’re not completely sure of its origin anymore.
Today I conclude my series of posts showcasing my picks for the best tracks of 2009. And it only took half a year!
10. Grizzly Bear – Two Weeks
It sounds like nothing they’ve ever done before, so cheerful, so upbeat, so….piano pop. But it works just the same. It still feels like Grizzly Bear – the lush production, the layered harmonics. And the lightbulb-head music video is a fun watch as well.
Since its inception last summer, the term “chillwave†has predictably divided artists and music lovers the way most newly coined subgenres do. Like the emo and shoegaze forerunners of the past, the crowd is split between those who denounce the word and those who embrace it. John Jagos, whose stage name is Brothertiger, likely falls in the latter category; last month he told the nightdrive blog, †I’d definitely be interested in another chillwaver to remix one of my songs!â€Â And his move from Ohio to Brooklyn appropriately serves to support the argument: Jagos knows his sound, his influences, and his audience.
That’s not to say, however, that Brothertiger’s debut EP is just another chillwave album.  The elements are all there, sure – hazy vocals, synth pop tendencies, and steady dance beats encompass Vision Tunnels.  But a key distinction remains after these five beach-ready tracks – Jagos effortlessly progresses the ever-changing sound in his own way, utilizing 80’s new wave and early 90’s pop in a low-key style largely untouched by his peers.  Washed Out and Active Child come to mind, but so do breezy, laid-back Pet Shop Boys and slow Annie Lennox tunes.
It’s only fitting that Fang Island’s debut begins with the sound of fireworks; they are very aware their music goes hand in hand with a kick-ass Fourth of July shindig. One could imagine if these guys ever rocked Milton Keynes, the sky explosions would last throughout their set, rather than begin immediately after. Such is the mood throughout this half-hour disc – a relentless, all-American, fist-pumping party.
The Providence quintet has had a busy year. They packed up and moved to Brooklyn, provided the soundtrack to a few MTV promos, received high-profile praise thanks to a well-received stint at SXSW, and opened for a little band called the Flaming Lips. The boys are certainly on their way, and it’s a cause for celebration. Luckily, the perfect soundtrack is one they themselves composed.
MIA has always declared she has something to say, but the message is usually convoluted and indirect. When the Internet propelled her to international notoriety, the political standpoint and unverified past were always interesting stories, yes, but the music was always the focus.
After the entertaining introduction (Arular), the follow-up that made her a superstar (Kala), and numerous polarizing interviews, MIA only verified the hunch many had – she was a great artist and entertainer, and the politics were a gimmicky footnote to the whole package. Still, it didn’t matter. Innovative production, machine-gun sound effects, and infectious hooks always helped make up for the odd public spectacles or general lack of knowledge MIA was delivering at the time.
Sadly, this is not the case with /\/\ /\ Y /\ (or MAYA). Whatever confusing message or peculiar declaration she is trying to convey this time around, it’s not going to take, because the accompanying score is her first giant misstep. Though not entirely flawed, it’s a scrambled, spotty soundtrack with few memorable tunes and occasionally as tacky and lazy as its album artwork and cringe-worthy title.
