I make no exaggeration when I say I’ve spent more time on this post and the following post than I have done probably on any piece of writing I’ve ever worked on. Confirming the final list and writing the posts themselves has only been the end of the year-long project. With every brilliant new song I’ve found in the last year I’ve been making copious mental notes in anticipation of this day. Is this already a top five contender even if it’s only March? Could this band get a high ranking song two years in a row? Could this song earn this artist their first mention on the blog? For the most compelling songs I found myself writing the post in advance, making the most of the song at its most fresh and powerful.
Spotify Wrapped – an annual recap of statistics regarding my listening habits – is an event of Christmas-like significance for me. I find every last morsel of information fascinating, and obsess over designating my “Song of the Year”, “Artist of the Year” and even “Podcast of the Year”, as well as analysing for shocks and injustices in the all-important list of my 100 most listened-to tracks like it’s the morning after Eurovision. If I could bet on my Song of the Year, I most certainly would, albeit after having taken some considerable thought.
But alas, Spotify’s Top 100 songs list, however factually accurate, is an imperfect one. The main problem is a significant skew towards songs released early in the year, which have the advantage of time to accumulate streams. Anything released after spring requires some serious binge-listening to catch up with the January and February front-runners, and Spotify doesn’t take into account listening activity from November or December at all. Instead, just like last year, I’ve had the pleasure of making my own Top 40 list that more accurately reflects the best songs I discovered this year. My combined obsession with statistics and music has resulted in a meticulously-crafted list, with my own computer algorithm even being used to pick apart the best tracks with no need for cop-out ties. I’ve also limited myself to one song per artist to allow me to talk about as many people as possible without the list being dominated by one album or genre. This first post covers the list from 40th down to 21st; you can find my review of the top 20 here.
40. Green Grass
from Crikey! It’s My Psyche by Ellie Dixon (indie pop)
It’s been a big year for Tiktok star and outstandingly talented musician Ellie Dixon, who has at last released the EP teased by strong early singles like Pressure and Space Out!. In May Green Grass became deservedly the biggest hit of her career so far with its charmingly detuned piano and playful bass slides. Dixon’s lyrics are direct almost to the point of sounding hollow, but it helps that Dixon’s laser focus is on a strong message of self-compassion. “You aren’t worth more because you like to eat broccoli,” she tells us with her trademark lightheartedness. She doesn’t even last the song without bursting into laughter and parping out some mouth trumpet. It’s Ellie at her purest: fun, bubbly and bursting with joy.
Also hear: Space Out! and Pressure
39. Summon the Fire
from Trust In The Lifeforce Of The Deep Mystery by The Comet Is Coming (jazz, electronic)
I came to UK Jazzers The Comet Is Coming via their equally noisy and challenging contemporaries Sons of Kemet, whose brilliant album Your Queen Is A Reptile remains among the most invigorating works of music I know. The common thread is the tireless saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings, who is bandleader to both bands and provides some instantly recognisable sax punch over the chaos. In contrast to Sons of Kemet’s earthiness, The Comet Is Coming is a band wedded to the new realm of experimental jazz that attempts to merge synthesisers and electronic effects with the traditional jazz world of saxophones, bass, drums and crunchy harmony. They hit gold with the pummelling Summon the Fire, a intrepid and restless track that sees Hutchings growling through his sax like a caged beast. It’s a frightening and all-encompassing musical expression of passion that I simply can’t get enough of.
Also hear: Sons of Kemet’s My Queen is Harriet Tubman
38. out of control
from incentivize unpaid overtime by ceo@business.net with lentra and bbno$ (post-punk, alternative rock)
There’s a very specific image conjured up by ceo@business.net’s manic out of control, namely one of an depressed and unemployed twenty-something spending entire nights playing video games in a junk food-festooned bedroom in his parents’ house. When over-analysed, out of control is really a tragic deconstruction of this man’s downward spiral as his social anxiety and disillusionment with women compounds by way of “mashing buttons” and accumulating BO. Sonically, out of control is just a fun and hyper-energetic punk song, with its numerous playful Mario Kart references, hooky bassline and brilliantly syncopated distorted guitars. lentra’s vocal performance is gravelly and arresting yet not off-puttingly so. In fact, he contributes to a vaguely upsetting yet equally thrilling blast of a song.
37. Knockout (Against the Machine)
from KIDS (Against the Machine) by Noga Erez (funk-jazz, blues)
I was an instant fan of pioneering Israeli pop star Noga Erez after seeing the masterfully macarbe music video for YOU SO DONE, which saw her flung around a room like a ragdoll by a giant mechanical arm, all soundtracked by a hellish whirr of screeching synthesisers and wall-shaking 808s. This autumn I was thrilled to find her electronica debut album KIDS had been recreated with the name Against the Machine, this time with a whole host of talented session musicians and a marked and surprising lean towards jazz, funk and blues. In her reproduction of Knockout in particular, Erez seems remarkably at home in the company of a tastefully-played upright piano and pristinely sharp horns section. The hook is delivered with sinister sass (“I knock my enemies out”) in between intricate horn stabs and several sudden musical left turns. A bizarre (and bizarrely effective) wavering solo trumpet is the cue for a phenomenal final chorus and big, big finish with everyone going at it hell for leather. I’m left hoping Against the Machine doesn’t become a one time only experiment for the outstandingly talented Erez and her band.
Also hear: YOU SO DONE, No News on TV (Against the Machine)
36. Hypotheticals
from Obviously by Lake Street Dive (pop, soul)
Boston five-piece struck gold with this pitch-perfect album opener back in March, filling a Vulfpeck-shaped hole in me in the process with sticky funk grooves and intelligently-written chord progressions. Hypotheticals also sees vocalist Rachael Price at her effervenscent best, equally at home in the calmer, soul-informed passages as well as a belting pop outro. It’s superbly tight and refreshingly down-to-earth, and – dare I say it – trumps even the much-adored and somewhat contrived release from Anderson .Paak and Bruno Mars in recent months. Yes – it’s that good.
Also hear: Hush Money
35. Beside April
from Talk Memory by BADBADNOTGOOD (jazz fusion)
Canadian outfit BADBADNOTGOOD were responsible for perhaps the best-selling jazz album of the year with the atmospheric Talk Memory; a intriguing and cohesive record, if not altogether mind-blowing. Beside April was the standout track, with Arthur Verocai’s stunning guitar melody and a haunting strings motif complementing each other perfectly. It all boils and bubbles over spectacularly, with Verocai reluctantly returning to his original melody after an electrifying solo. I first discovered Talk Memory on a long, late night drive on my own, and to me that setting still seems like the natural environment for Talk Memory. The album’s vaugely unsettling neo-classical edge feels like an ideal soundtrack for a daunting, foggy journey away from home, and Beside April represents it’s own memorable journey as the tension rises and then falls to nothing.
Also hear: Signal from the Noise, City of Mirrors
34. Boy
from You Signed Up For This by Maisie Peters (pop)
Promising London popstar Maisie Peters had one of the songs of the summer on her hands with the release of bouncy Call Me Maybe-pastiche Psycho, only to top it a few months later with the simply unforgettable hookiness of Boy, which sits at the heart of her debut album You Signed Up For This. Subtle nostalgic nods to the late noughties pop of Peters’ childhood (and mine) can be found in every corner of Boy, not least in the post-chorus hook that could have easily been the soundtrack to an early series of Tracy Beaker. It’s also somewhat unfortunately got Ed Sheeran’s songwriting fingerprints all over it (he has taken Peters under his wing as something of a pop protegé), but Peters’ sass and witty lyricism helps overcome the bland and repetitive harmony. With Boy and Psycho under her belt early on and the backing of one of the most influential pop stars of the 21st century, there’s surely a long and lucrative career ahead of her.
33. skeletons
from life’s a beach by easy life (pop)
Leicester’s festival favourites easy life had a mixed bag of a debut album with May’s life’s a beach, which was only partly saved by the inclusion of career-highlight and perpetually rereleased breakout single nightmares. But amidst the misses (the endless, irritating vocal sample on daydreams continues to haunt me), there were a handful of hits. Booming drum fills bookend skeletons and help mark out this section of the album as the three minutes not to miss. Accompanied by a pumping drum machine and shimmering synths, Murray Matravers’ lyrics are suitably unsettling. “Everybody round here’s got skeletons,” he tells us in a spoken chorus. “One at a time they all appear”; queue an unnerving synth solo in time for the song’s winning finale. The lack of chorus melody only adds to beautiful simplicity of the titular hook which appears at regular intervals and begs for an enormous crowd shouting the word back at the band. With a song this good, I’m sure they’ll get the opportunity for another big audience soon enough.
Also hear: nightmares, homesickness
32. Robert Henry
from Wherein Lies the Good by The Westerlies (jazz, contemporary classical)
There’s something pure at the heart of the wintry-sounding Robert Henry, the best song that uncategorisable New York brass quartet The Westerlies have ever composed. It’s remarkably intricate and experimental at times – hence their usual, slightly lazy label of jazz – but in other moments Robert Henry mellows considerably, flowering towards the end with pure and potent pop harmony under a soaring trumpet melody. There’s plenty of other joys to be found on the journey there however, with every little motif used to its fullest extent and a vast range of emotion covered before the time comes for the grand denouement. The musicianship and quality of the composition is staggering with conversations between trumpet and trombone playing out at rapid pace, each instrument piping up for its own turn in the spotlight. I’ve never heard anything like it; Robert Henry and its fascinating accompanying album Wherein Lies the Good needs to be heard to be believed.
Also hear: New Berlin, New York
31. ZITTI E BUONI
from Teatro d’Ira – Vol. I by Måneskin (rock)
Certainly not since I started obsessively following the Eurovision Contest ten years ago has a contest winner found anything like the level of superstardom Italian glam rockers Måneskin have rocketed to this year. Their obvious individuality is surely a factor; never has a rock band won the contest (at least not sincerely), and the band’s now-trademark brand of high-fashion, high-theatrics glam rock has hardly been in the mainstream since the days of Slade and Mötley Crüe. Then there was the Tiktok virality of danceable single I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE and a frustratingly poorly produced cover of Madlib’s classic Beggin’, which they are still compelled to roll out when performing to their now vast American audience.
That said, it’s of course the world-beating dynamite single ZITTI E BUONI (Shut up and be good) that started it all. Everything about the song that made me root for it on that big night in May remains brilliant: Victoria d’Angelis’ pounding bass riffs, Thomas Raggi’s Guitar Hero-worthy screeches and, of course, the rich and raspy vocals of frontman Damiano David, who dives into a torrent of words in verse two before breathlessly launching into another pummelling chorus. Watching back the clip of the band victoriously performing it at the end of the contest with golden ticker tape streaming down and David’s vocals going awry in the mayhem, I still get butterflies. The humble four-piece that started busking on the streets of Rome have conquered the world, and they absolutely deserve it.
Also hear: I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE
30. not a lot, just forever
from songs by Adrianne Lenker (singer-songwriter, folk)
Adrianne Lenker’s unassumingly titled songs (and wordless sister album instrmentals) was a dependable companion to me during the long and largely solitary lockdown winter that started the year, offering consolation by way of luscious layered guitars and countless gorgeous melodies. not a lot, just forever seemed to me to be the beguiling emotial crux of the work, and succeeds at being both charmingly beautiful and heart-breakingly sad. Lenker’s lyrics are impressionistic poetry rooted in the natural world, and not a lot, just forever seems to tell the story of hopeless dependence on a man. Words flow from Lenker as effortless as water, with Lenker’s troubles being eloquently personified by a weathered rock, or a wildly barking dog or a wren shedding its feathers. This is music that speaks to the listener on a deeper level, demanding us to stop, breathe and open up to our own crippling vulnerabilities.
Also hear: two reverse, anything
29. Red Room
from Mood Valiant by Hiatus Kaiyote (neo-soul, jazz)
It’s very unusual for a song to give me chills on first listen, but Australian modern jazz collective’s lead single for their 2021 album Mood Valiant did just that. Red Room begs to be listened to in a still, solitary moment, perhaps snuggled up in bed or watching raindrops fall on a window. The image of Nai Palm’s bedroom lit up in deep red at sunset is beautifully articulated by an atmospheric crackle and lofi hip-hop piano that joins the bass on the occasional blissful melodic turn. Palm’s lyrics are just as evocative, with the room bringing comparisons to being “inside a flower” or even “inside my eyelids”. Nothing about the slinky groove that supports Palm is mind-blowing, but instead Red Room is more than a sum of its parts: restrained, haunting and undeniably powerful.
Also hear: Fingerprints
28. Don’t Go Puttin wishes in my head
from Thirstier by TORRES (rock, synth pop)
TORRES had one of the hits of her career early in 2021 with expansive rock ballad Don’t Go Puttin Wishes in My Head, a ballad that would sound at home amongst many of the soft rock classics of the 80s with its swirling synths and anthemic chorus. It also helps that TORRES’s lyrics are certainly worth singing along to, depicting an intriguing collapse of a one-sided relationship in the face of unnamed broken promises. Don’t Go Puttin Wishes in My Head deserves full Glastonbury treatment, complete with a sea of giant flags and youths with their phone torches out sat on the shoulders of friends. It shouldn’t matter that TORRES is still fairly new to the scene; this melody will have everyone singing along in pure ecstacy before the four minutes are done.
27. Manic Pixie Dream Girl
Single by EASHA (pop)
For an artist still in her university years at Stanford, EASHA’s flagship single Manic Pixie Dream Girl is an almost unbelievable triumph. The funky, light-hearted synthpop track has all the hallmarks of an artist much deeper into their musical career. The production and attention to detail is spotless, EASHA’s vocals are strong and a wonderfully punchy slap bass turns a good song into a well-deserved hit. Then there’s the bridge, with it’s sudden but convincing switch to grunge rock, and EASHA’s proving that she just as comfortable with a few distorted guitars as she is with a bed of Rodgers-esque rhythm guitar and bass. Believe me, once EASHA goes full-time into music, sparks will fly.
26. I Kissed Someone (It Wasn’t You)
from Build a Problem by dodie (singer-songwriter, acoustic pop)
My adoration for Essex YouTube-star-turned-soft-pop-phenom dodie is now fairly well documented on Undertone. I Kissed Someone (It Wasn’t You) was of course one of the principal tear-jerkers on that unforgettable night in September, and in terms of studio recordings, the track remains an understated career high for the 26-year-old. It demonstrates a softness that dodie has become known for (her chosen vocal style is the same borderline-ASMR whispering that’s earnt Billie Eilish so much critical acclaim), but this time that signature softness comes with multiple layers of nuance and emotions. A clicking tape recorder and muted bass makes a stunning arrival at the first chorus, helped by one of dodie’s most beautiful and sophisticated chord progressions to date. The songwriter’s strings arrangement skills are also one full display here, enriching the song but never overpowering it. A sorrowful cello bassline adds weight to dodie’s moving lyrics of broken relationships and a loss of feeling that typifies her chronic derealisation. At times, dodie’s struggles are remarkably relatable. “Put me in a car / I just want to go home / Put me in a bath” dictates a longing for rest we’ve all felt, expressed all the more beautifully by dodie’s warm and intimate vocal performance. It’s a wintry song for late night journeys home after long and hard days out, and in that way I Kissed Someone provides real value as a song to find solace in during life’s hardest moments.
Also hear: Hate Myself, Cool Girl, Special Girl
25. I’m Fine
from Ashlyn by Ashe (pop, soul)
American singer-songwriter Ashe came out with a much anticipated debut album back in May, and although career-launching single Moral of the Story inevitably dominated an otherwise inconsistent track listing, there was also a handful of gems, not least the stunning retro chugger I’m Fine. The contrast between verse and chorus is used to it’s full potential here, with Ashe’s smoky, delay-soaked vocals slotting in perfectly in between gospel-inspired backing vocals that light up a pitch-perfect chorus. Cutting up the melody like this also helps makes Ashe’s blatantly dishonest mantra of “I’m fine” sound even more stuttered and unsure. “You know I need you when I try to say I’m fine” is a telling confession, and rather than tackling the problem, Ashe seems to be encouraging us to find someone that can at least decipher our mixed messages. Make no mistake, then, that this song isn’t just fine but very, very good indeed.
Also hear: Moral of the Story, Till Forever Falls Apart
24. glowing nervous system
from DEAD DOGS by ewy (folk punk, singer-songwriter)
An unfortunate side effect of ewy’s recent EP songs i didn’t really want to write being so strong was that it brought with it a moral dilemma. Phenomenal, brooding indie rock anthem drip drip drip fall was undeniably the standout track, but could I really put it on the list if Undertone himself happened to feature as a guest pianist? It’s a good job, then, that June’s conceptually ambitious DEAD DOGS also provided a wealth of strong material, not least in its through-composed and breathless four song finale, which continues to be an emotional high point of the 19-year-old’s developing career. Lead single glowing nervous system was the album’s most obvious highlight. On its release the song delighted long-time fans like myself with its marked improvement in production quality. A much-needed distorted bass guitar was conjured up almost magically through a processed recording of an acoustic guitar, and a shimmering tambourine did more than enough to compensate for a lack of a drum kit. ewy’s lyrics also sound more mature than ever, with eerie allusions to “flashing black hounds” and “laughing cats” that help add to the song’s feeling mystery and unease. The blink-and-you’ll-miss it 80 second runtime gives just enough time for an exploration of ewy’s upper range towards the songs conclusion, a particular area of the songwriter’s talents that just seems to keep getting stronger and stronger. Songs like glowing nervous system and drip drip fall prove there’s little need for speculation anymore: ewy is here to stay, and I couldn’t be happier for him.
Also hear: drip drip drip fall, i wish i was a modern day guy fawkes, too weak too strong never perfect
23. Salt Lake City
Single by Etta Marcus feat. Matt Maltese (country, soft rock)
Just like her contemporary Jade Bird, Londoner Etta Marcus has chosen to become an adoptee American with the wistful, wave-your-lighters-in-the-air country song Salt Lake City. A southern twang is almost audible in her vocals, as she sings of romantically running off to Utah seemingly just because the town “doesn’t suit” her. There’s a risk of the song being hopelessly twee, but there’s something in Marcus’ composed, lullaby-like vocal performance that demands to be taken seriously. Sometimes, as this song proves, a strong emotional foundation and one solid idea is all you need for a song to connect on a deep level. It’s a simple hook and an even simpler four chord loop, but there’s something deep within the DNA of Salt Lake City that makes me believe every last word Marcus comes up with.
22. Mirror
Single by Sigrid (pop)
It’s safe to say that 2021 was the year that I finally fell in love with Norwegian pop tour de force Sigrid. A follow up to her fan favourite early single Strangers was a long time coming, but as soon as Mirror was released to the world during the early days of a long summer, it was clear that this was the song to dethrone Strangers. In more ways than one, this is quintissential Sigrid: effortlessly energetic, impossibly catchy guilty pleasure pop tailor made to get your foot tapping and hips shaking. It’s also the most ‘Sigrid’ set of lyrics I can think of; a self-love call to arms that will surely be rapturously received by festival goers for many years to come. There’s real, useful wisdom baked into lines like “I needed loneliness to know there’s nothing I can’t turn into confidence”. Sigrid’s self-help maxims are nothing particularly original in isolation, but not since Lizzo’s Juice have I heard a pop song so perfectly and powerfully encapsulate self-empowerment and compassion. In a world of depressed popstars and countless introspective ballads (I’m aware this list has plenty), this song is the ultimate mainstream pop refreshment. To listen to Mirror is to smile and be reminded that perhaps we’re not so hopeless after all.
Also hear: Burning Bridges
21. Happier Than Ever
from Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish (singer-songwriter, rock)
I must admit I was bitterly disappointed when I first heard Billie Eilish’s much-discussed second album Happier Than Ever. Perhaps disappointment was inevitable; everything up to that point in Eilish’s career had been universally praised, from the promising singles of the debut EP (see bellyache and idontwannabeyouranymore) to the mind-blowing creativity of her first album which featured the likes of bad guy and bury a friend, both songs that would have sounded so much better had they not eventually found themselves in the sad, fickle world of corporate advertising. That said, there’s was one silver lining in Eilish’s lacklustre 2021 offering, namely that it made penultimate track Happier Than Ever sound even more extraordinary. What starts as a run-of-the-mill dodie-esque ukulele ballad devolves into a gut-wrenching hard rock finale, a groundbreaking sonic development for the 20-year-old. The way in which the cute opening collapses into a black hole of despair is simply breathtaking, and would have been even more impactful had Phoebe Bridgers not done the exact same thing but better last year. A brief breakdown before a return to the chaos does well to milk one of the album’s few patches of musical inspiration. And, as with Bridgers’ I Know the End, it all ends in screaming – and lots of it. Here’s to hoping album three sees Eilish make herself more at home in the rock genre. She most certainly suits it.
Also hear: Lost Cause
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