David Bowie
“Lazarus”, #40
“Blackstar”, #78
You can hear it in his voice. The vocals are stronger than you might expect, defiantly so at times, but there’s a rasp, a wispiness, a transparency. It’s the voice of a man very much alive, but well aware of what’s coming. The lyrics are mysterious, and rightly so. Partly because Bowie has tried all his life not to be obvious, and partly because he’s dealing with a future he can’t envision, even if he holds a glimmer of understanding. What makes these mysteries palpable is not only Bowie’s voice, but the band he’s assembled for this project, one of the best he’s ever had. Drummer Mark Guiliana keeps even the slowest passages moving with a style that’s both loose and sometimes frighteningly precise, while sax player Donny McCaslin plays the sorts of parts Bowie himself might have played (and did on some earlier versions of the album’s songs), only with greater technique and a surer tone. Even accounting for Bowie’s death and the inevitable hyperbole it generates, Blackstar is easily his best album since Lodger, maybe since Low. What a comeback it would have been. What a testament it is.
Brett Eldredge
“Drunk On Your Love”
#94
With a wheezing accordion providing that drunk feeling, Eldredge is free to sing the way he always does: like a bad actor on a country soap opera.
David Guetta Featuring Sia & Fetty Wap
“Bang My Head”
#98
If anything could make me never want to hear Sia again, this is it. “Bang your head against the wall!” she recommends. Because, or so she says, instead of knocking yourself out like a bloody fool, you’ll rise, weightless, to the ceiling. From which, in your transmogrified state, you’ll no doubt look down on your lifeless body and realize you were killed either by your own stupidity in following Sia’s oddly macho advice, or by being pummeled with David Guetta’s ham-handed beats (talk about a blunt instrument). Also, has anybody ever sounded as out of place as Fetty Wap does here? Who could have possibly thought this was a good idea?