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Rob Sheffield’s Top 25 Songs of 2017

From “Bodak Yellow” to “Boys” and beyond

Rob Sheffield's Top 25 Songs of 2017

Rob Sheffield weighs in on his top 25 songs of 2017, including Cardi B's "Bodak Yellow" and Harry Styles' "Two Ghosts."

But enough about 2017. Let’s fast forward to what didn’t suck this year, which would be the music. These are my 25 favorite songs of 2017 (though some gems are over on my albums list, to avoid duplicating all the same artists). Including, but not limited to: hits, flops, obscurities, guitar monsters, cheap pop kicks, rap hustlers, bad liars, punk rockers, soul divas, disco disasters and karaoke room-clearers. And the Beatles, obviously. 

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Harry Styles, “Two Ghosts”

All the 1D dudes bravely followed their hearts this year – Niall took his folk album to Number One, Louis explored EDM, Zayn came through with some dope shoes and Liam somehow got Quavo to call him a “thug,” a pivotal moment in thug history. Harry’s simplest solo hit was his most affectionate – a gentle “Melissa”-style acoustic groove that ended up feeling like a timely salute to the late Gregg Allman. 

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Girlpool, “Kiss and Burn”

The acoustic duo go electric yet sound more hushed than ever. “Kiss and Burn” seems to sum up a host of unspoken yearnings in one moody little shiver of guitar fuzz.

Rob Sheffield's Top 25 Songs of 2017

Drake, “Passionfruit”

One of the year’s strangest radio hits was the one that goes, “Let me kick it like it’s 1986” – if you went back in time to 1986, trust me, nobody would believe the era would ever represent an aspirational kicking-it standard. But I love “Passionfruit” because Drake kicks it like it’s 1986, with a tropically smooth lover-boy groove Billy Ocean would have been proud to claim as his own, if not Gregory Abbott, plus the corniest puns of Drake’s career (or maybe anyone’s). 

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Cayetana, “Bus Ticket”

The year’s toughest moving-out song, from a Philly trio of punk women packing a load of Kurt Cobain into their grunge guitar grind, as they announce they’re finally hitting the road and giving up on ever getting day-drunk with you again. 

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Luis Fonsi feat. Daddy Yankee, “Despacito”

A few hurricanes ago, when Katrina wiped out New Orleans and the government wrote it off, the Meters were at the top of the pop charts – via the sample in Amerie’s 2005 smash “1 Thing.” It was eerie to hear Ziggy Modeliste bang the second line all over the radio while the rest of America was letting Louisiana wash down the drain. “Despacito” brought a similar kind of eerie, as Luis Fonsi and Daddy Yankee spent the summer at Number One, representing Puerto Rico when the country was officially deciding to forget. 

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Priests, “No Big Bang”

The D.C. postpunk crew zooms through a herky-jerky rant about life during wartime. “You look down and see the sheer stupidity of the roller coaster, just staring you in the face!”

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Dua Lipa, “New Rules”

A late-breaking discovery for me, via (where else) the karaoke room. “New Rules” speaks to me because if there’s anything I love, it’s (1) counting songs with numbers in the chorus, (2) disco hits where the singer sets moral standards that the music immediately violates, and (3) the advice “If you’re under him, you’re not getting over him.”

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Diet Cig, “Road Trip”

A two-minute pop-punk fling that gets dark halfway through, but nothing fancy going on here – just Alex Luciano realizing her cross-country drive might not be quite the emotional resolution she was counting on.

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Lindsey Buckingham / Christine McVie, “In My World”

A concept record about Stevie Nicks not returning your calls? Cool! Who hasn’t dreamed of making one of those? The Buckingham McVie project, featuring all four non-twirling members of Fleetwood Mac and including a theme song for the reunion tour that already happened two years ago, brings out the nastiest and prettiest tunes Lindsey has written in many moons, especially this Tusk-worthy soft-rock gem, reprising the “uuuh”/”aaah” sex grunts from “Big Love,” except with 30 more years’ worth of erotic frustration.

Rob Sheffield's Top 25 Songs of 2017

Swanning, “Drawing Down the Moon”

“I am just a moon of Jupiter/One of 67, I fall back in line.” Cynthia Ann Schemmer clears her throat with a modestly spacey guitar tune steeped in astronomy, as she sings about accepting that she’ll never be the sun. She saves a great lullaby line for the end: “Wake me up slowly and pour me out into the light.”

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Tove Lo, “Disco Tits”

The kickiest 1982 song of 2002 turns out to be this electroclash blast of sleaze disco, a morally depraved club banger full of Meet Me in the Bathroom ambience, with a bass line designed to bring out all your most appalling qualities. Needless to say, it’s Swedish. 

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Sampha, “(No One Knows Me) Like the Piano”

The British R&B poet croons an ode to the piano at his mama’s house, the instrument that felt his childhood pain when nobody else did.

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The Beatles, “Penny Lane (Vocal Overdubs and Speech)”

A studio snippet from the Sgt. Pepper anniversary box: just Paul and George in Abbey Road, listening to a playback of “Penny Lane,” a bit of homemade dynamite Paul just wrote about a street back in Liverpool. They try out harmonies and handclaps. George suggests, “This could have a backwards drum beat on that there.” Paul says, “Forward drum beat.” They hum, they sing along (“fish and finger pies, shall I do that harmony? Boom boom boom”), they joke around, they try to sound unimpressed by this thing they’ve created. To them it’s the next step of their future, even as they look back to their childhoods. (Last week John brought in his song about Liverpool, “Strawberry Fields Forever,” and not that Paul’s competitive, but well, you know, these two.)

Not even the Beatles, in their most delusionally arrogant moments, would imagine that 50 years later this trivial studio moment would be something people could listen to, much less cherish, much less cling to the heart as a reminder in dark times of what music can mean and how music can feel. They’re just stepping back to admire the art they made today. Whatever they try next, they’re sure it will be even more brilliant. (The next song they record is “When I’m 64,” so they’re slightly wrong about that.) But by the end, they’ve lost interest in throwing more ideas into “Penny Lane.” They’re already looking forward to the music they’ll make tomorrow. They’re waiting for it, that green light. They want it. 

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