Part One

15. Best Coast- “Boyfriend”- Because of her playful interviews and hipper-than-thou tweeting, Bethany Cosentino can come off as jaded, but she can’t hide the innocence in her voice. This song could have been released this year or thirty-five years ago, but her deadpan naivete is what makes it seem modern. Particularly in the second verse, this track always teeters on the edge of something more sinister, (“If I could only get her out of the picture / Then he would know how much I want him.”) and her voice is what captures the other side of that adolescent tension.

14. Joker- “Tron”- My grandmother used to shuttle me around town in her silver Oldsmobile Eighty-Eight, and she was tolerant of whatever I wanted to play on the radio. But she freaked out one day on the way to the orthodontist, claiming that the savage synths on Smashing Pumpkins’ “Eye” were going to break her speakers. In that way, I’m glad she’s no longer with us to witness dubstep because Joker’s bassline here, which sounds like God’s best fart (only jazzier), would have killed her twice.

13. The-Dream feat. T.I.- “F.I.L.A.”- The secret that makes The-Dream the most reliable hitmaker in all of whatever we’re going to call post-crunk & b is that he never seems as if he’s trying too hard. The love that he’s usually talking about is lust, he never strays too far from his comfort zone vocally, and the gorgeous intro here is just a scale. Here, his title makes us think of early ’90s sneaker brands instead of falling in love again, and that tossed-off quality is not a mistake. Across his triptych of Love albums, he has tried to lower our expectations only to shatter them with, in this case, cascading hi-hat skitters and boundless roots of left-hand keyboards. “F.I.L.A.” seems built for late night realizations. On one hand, that gorgeous intro is just a scale, but on the other hand, isn’t a scale the most beautifully simple thing in the world? Or is that love?

12. Smith Westerns- “Weekend”- Most people—not especially interesting people, but most people—like a song because the musicians play their instruments well on it. The peril of rock criticism is that, in the service of being more descriptive and impressionistic and inventive, it ignores that most basic reason that people listen to music. “Jimi Hendrix plays some good guitar here” is bad writing. Sometimes you hear it called “chops” or “virtuosity,” but no one ever discusses actual ability anymore. The Smith Westerns are so young that they’re still harnessing their messy style, but, you know, they play better than most of their peers, which we can’t ignore. The guitar riff here sounds like something that should have already existed somewhere, to an infuriating extent, and they’ve built upon the harmonies of their debut, making them more lush and more simple at the same time.

11. Harlem- “Someday Soon”- This is the most antic of all of Harlem’s boisterous songs, starting and stopping with abandon, and it’s most representative of the deceptively simple sort of shambling garage rock that Harlem play. While the sentiment of “Someday Soon” is mean-spirited, it never flags in its carefree exuberance. While the character of their dueling vocalists is obscured by their lo-fi aesthetic, the snares are curiously high in the mix. Harlem the band is a little like Harlem the neighborhood: steeped in a rich history, probably not as rough as the reputation that precedes them.

10. How to Dress Well- “Ready for the World”- “Ready for the World” is the centerpiece of Tom Krell’s fragile, wistful, brilliant album Love Remains, and although I’ve heard the song a million times, I don’t know the words. He layers so many echoing, ghostly voices—mostly his own—that I have trouble keying in on the ones singing the main melody. The accumulated effect, buoyed by a turgid drone of a bass line, is clear though: This is music that you can hear coming from miles away and that you’ll remember long after it has passed.

9. Rick Ross feat. Styles P- “B.M.F. (Blowin’ Money Fast)”- Gargantua was the large-mouthed giant of Rabelais’ novels of the late 1500s. Today we use the word “gargantuan” as a common adjective meaning “very large,” but the etymology of the word is important. It describes something that is large because it’s a monster, because you are forced to look at it and listen to it. It cannot be ignored. There’s a moment in this song when Rick Ross rests his booming roar, and the demented sweep of Lex Luger’s beat relents for just a second. Then, without warning, you get stabbed from left-to-right and right-to-left in your headphones, and Ross declares, louder than ever, “THESE MOTHERFUCKERS MAD THAT I’M ICY!” It’s gargantuan.

8. Tanlines- “Real Life”- Since its release in March, “Real Life” has been on nearly every playlist I’ve made, and it’s easy to understand why. Its repetition and tropical influences make it transporting and enchanting, but it’s also knotted with a progressive sophistication that reveals itself over time. There have been a lot of superb remixes of this song, but none can compare to the rubbery, voluminous rhythm of the original.

7. Gucci Mane- “Makin’ Love to the Money”- I knew it was only a matter of time before a rapper, preferably a southern one, made an honest-to-God love song directed at cash; and Gucci, a silly guy with a serious gift for melody, was just the dude to do it. In the past, his weakness has been a lack of focus, so it’s a treat to get to hear his wry humor and effortless slur on a concept more developed than how fly he is. OhZee and Schife’s production also adds a sense of grandeur from its timpani rolls to the stutter of its regal synths. Most of all though, “Makin’ Love to the Money” hints at what Gucci could be with real choruses. It’s probably his most indelible hook to date.

6. Drake feat. The-Dream- “Shut It Down”- In college, I stayed in the dorm one semester too long, after all of my friends had gotten houses together, and I was forced to live in a suite with some dudes I didn’t know. One of these guys called himself Tron, and he was the self-proclaimed “slow jam king.” Tron and I didn’t always get along—he never rinsed his beard trimmings from the sink—but we were right for each other in a way. I don’t think he could have found anyone else who could have tolerated that much K-Ci and Jojo. Anyway, one thing I always noticed about the music he played was how relatively old it was. When “I Need Love” gets heavy rotation on the computer speakers, you know they just don’t make them like they used to. I haven’t talked to Tron since that semester, but I know Drake and The-Dream are making him smile somewhere. If some of Dream’s lines are cringe-worthy, if the last verse is indulgent, it’s because that’s how these songs are supposed to be: This is an archetypal slow jam. Drake has said before that Aaliyah is his biggest influence, but it seemed like lip service until he delivered something this sensual and lasting and sincere.