Fetty Wap
“Again”
#33
Back on the loverman beat, this time with a woman who not only doesn’t help him cook drugs, but who has problems with his, um, “lifestyle”. Almost as catchy as “Trap Queen”, though nowhere near as intense. It goes on too long, too, but if it didn’t we wouldn’t be blessed with Fetty Wap’s attempts at autotuned soul, one of the most charmingly incompetent things I’ve ever heard.
Lana Del Rey
“High By The Beach”
#51
At least now she’s calling her men on their bullshit: “You may be a bad motherfucker/but that don’t make you a man”. And the music that sinks into the sand with Del Rey is impressive. She still wallows in drug-assisted self pity, though, and still finds the idea romantic in a depressing, self-defeating way. She and her defenders will probably deny this. It all depends, I suppose, on how you define “high”.
Hailee Steinfeld
“Love Myself”
#96
As much as I approve of this record in principle, the reality is a disappointment. The production is old-fashioned and garish, and Steinfeld isn’t much of a singer—or, more accurately, she doesn’t have much of a voice; she’s barely a singer at all. The real problem, though, is that the song doesn’t go far enough: it’s a shame Steinfeld says she can love herself “anytime that I like” instead of the way I first heard it: “anytime of my life”. That narrowness of vision reduces the song to simple self-absorption instead of the universal statement of defiance it could be. If you’re going to sing the praises of diddling, don’t just diddle yourself, diddle the world.
Dan + Shay
“Nothin’ Like You”
#97
= Keith Urban.
Chase Rice
“Gonna Wanna Tonight”
#98
If this were a bit faster and a lot lighter, it might be tolerable. As is, it’s ghastly, cutesy sludge. Alternate title: “Even Shane McAnally Fucks Up Sometimes”.
Little Mix
“Black Magic”
#99
The guitar-based sound sets them apart from current pop, but it also places them squarely in the past (though the rip of the changes from “Blank Space” on the chorus makes them sound a little more up-to-date). If the individual singers displayed any personality at all you could think of them as a female version of One Direction, but they don’t, so you’re left with a Spice Girls clone. The only thing that makes them distinct is that they may be the last of their kind.
Mac Miller
“100 Grandkids”
#100
The handful of exceptions duly noted, most white rappers are still essentially novelty acts, and like all novelty acts they’re good for one or two decent records at most. Here, Mac Miller celebrates the success of his first with a long overdue and rapidly failing second. Sounds kind of serious about it, too, which is a huge mistake. When he makes a record about earning his last hundred thousand (which should be soon) he might be worth hearing again, but I wouldn’t count on it.