I could have not asked for a better year to start formally reviewing albums. This has been a rich, diverse, yet contradictory year in terms of music. It’s one where all the best releases out there felt like heavy listens, that you had to sit down with and listen to with a lot of care. Isolation was able to bring in a much different context for a lot of these albums, as it meant there was nowhere else to run to when it was time to face the music. In that sense, a genre like rap music was able to thrive, as every bar carried a deeper, more present meaning, whether it be in the most abstract realms or the most populist ones. Pop music found itself cornered and had to either dance its way out, or face that obscurity. But then, folk and country music just had to keep on with their own paths of trust and introspection, and for that, they shined this year.
However, if there’s one component you’ll likely find on this list is the importance of atmosphere, of sounds feeling condensed into some kind of shape, whether that be a loose one, a tight one, or just something to keep the music together. At times, the best of 2020 could be dangerous and adventurous, as it climbed up the walls of its own bedroom.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s get into the Best Albums of 2020.
50. Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist - Alfredo
49. Blackbear - Everything Means Nothing
48. Jowell & Randy - Viva el perreo
46. Megan thee Stallion - Good News
45. Moor Mother - Circuit City
44. Bob Dylan - Rough and Rowdy Ways
43. Rauw Alejandro - Afrodisíaco
42. The Magnetic Fields - Quickies
41. Ruston Kelly - Shape & Destroy
40. Neil Cicierega - Mouth Dreams
39. Ashley McBryde - Never Will
37. Taylor Swift - evermore
36. Bring Me the Horizon - Post Human: Survival Horror
35. Lorenzo Senni - Scacco matto
34. Bad Bunny - El último tour del mundo
33. Illuminati Hotties - FREE I.H: This Is Not the One You've Been Waiting For
32. Feid - FERXXO (VOL 1: M.O.R)
31. Imperial Triumphant - Alphaville
30. Spanish Love Songs - Brave Faces Everyone
28. Pop Smoke - Meet the Woo, Vol. 2
27. Niall Horan - Heartbreak Weather
26. Machine Gun Kelly - Tickets to My Downfall
#25: Backxwash - God Has Nothing to Do With This Leave Him Out of It (industrial horrorcore)
An artist who’s been building her reputation for years finally opens up and reveals the monster within her. Canadian rapper Backxwash raps over troublingly muddy beats about the fear that comes with being a trans woman out in the world, as society and her own family seem to shut her inside. But within that rejection, she finds the power within herself is humongous, and the album sounds like it. It’s a rattling metal cage shapeshifted into a person, willing to break free of any kind of chain imaginable. It’s a horror show, and it’s been a while since sheer horror felt so present and important. As always, the personal is political, and Backxwash can only grow from this.
#24: Nio García & Casper Mágico - Now or Never (reggaetón)
The 2 guys that made that awful Te Boté song a couple years ago somehow put together an album with some of the biggest and most respected reggaeton stars out there, and in a twist of fate, it comes out being excellent. Nio and Casper essentially play the role of 2 absolute losers in the middle of a room full of winners, which adds a different dynamic to a lot of these tracks, as they realize that they shouldn’t be there. All in the middle of sounds that are basic reggaeton, but that convey the atmosphere of a crowded club where everyone’s a little too close to each other. That’s a feeling that was sorely missed this year, and this was a blast to put on at any given minute.
One advice if you wanna check it out, though? Get rid of the last 3 tracks. They’re essentially bonus tracks and you get to not deal with the Loch Ness monster that is Darrell. Party on, but with precaution.
#23: Armand Hammer - Shrines (abstract hip hop)
Billy Woods and Elucid put out a lot of music this year, and while their individual projects were stark, compared to this mammoth, it’s hard to debate. They walk around lost moments and seas knowing that they belong there, but don’t know how to. Their words spin and cascade around instrumentals that murmur their way out of whatever situation they’re stuck in, and Armand Hammer discuss how hard it is to find proper black communion in the middle of a capitalist system meant to destroy them. But that’s what’s so powerful about Armand Hammer; it’s that they don’t leave when things get messy, they stay and fight. The waters are dirty and the system is rigged, but instead of giving up, they infiltrate them with their words. Curious and mystical words, but not meaningless. Especially not when the music has something to say about it.
#22: Anna von Hausswolff - All Thoughts Fly (minimalist, drone)
Could be a minor project for darkwave artist Anna von Hausswolff, yet it’s possibly the best thing she’s ever done. She explores her soul instrument, the organ, and all its idiosyncrasies, as the night slips out of her fingers and turns everything into a fight between the mud and the dirt, and that could-be figure that may or may not be out there, watching over her. The compositions are simple, but the playing is intricate and moving; the organ is an instrument that never seems to run out of air, and Anna is sure as hell not gonna let it. It’s a soft hiss of longing into the night, but not the darkness. The light that shines on this album will be put to test, but it forever resists, and passes by its own wickedness to turn into something achingly beautiful.
#21: R.A.P. Ferreira - Purple Moonlight Pages (hip hop)
The Jefferson Park Boys serve as the wonderful, jazzy instrumental that sees Rory flipping a new page in his life; no longer Milo, now a more evolved, self-aware, and striking version of himself, R.A.P. Ferreira. He brings out words and ideas like they’re the most valuable thing in the world, and passes through many phases of truly enjoying the craftsmanship that comes with his artform. He’s forced to deal with the privilege he has, and the notion that not everyone in his position has done the work that he has, but that’s alright, because he’s in a position to break away from that. Those artists who unfortunately fall beneath the cracks are just like him, and he’ll do his best to honor their work. No starving artists, just starving to know. His future is treacherous, but he’s into that.
#20: The Chicks - Gaslighter (country pop)
On production alone, this album gets on the list. Jack Antonoff is a jack of all trades, and country is somehow one of them. Penetrating percussion sections and crisp, beautiful vocal harmonies that still give way to Martie Maguire and Emily Strayer’s striking sense of instrumentation and arrangements. It truly seems like 2 main visions collided into 1, and said vision is one of the most harrowing yet peaceful breakup albums of the year. Natalie Maines’ messy divorce going through all phases imaginable: loss, rage, regret, longing, sorrow, euphoria, and eventually, acceptance. It’s a hard road to walk, and the varied songwriting denotes it’s not an easy path… yet somehow, for the duration of this album, it seems a lot more straightlined than it actually is. All praise imaginable to the Chicks for coming back, and coming back with a reason and purpose.
#19: Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit - Reunions (country, americana)
A chaotic, messy fog with implications of despair that go beyond what’s to be expected or understood… yet, so violently human. Jason Isbell and his band combine his personal storytelling, as he grapples with the loss of friends, the conflicts with her wife, and the isolation he faces as he feels he’s been just as wilfully ignorant as those he criticizes, with the rollick of sad, grey tunes that somehow seem to rise above the well they’re in. This is perseverant music, music that needs to hold itself together for the sake of everyone else around it. It broods on afraid and with trepidation, but that’s exactly where real courage comes from. It’s an album where Isbell once again comes to terms with his own vices and demons, and it ends with being content with them, as he knows he’s got the support system to figure it out. While he does that, he’ll still be out here, and we’ll all be better off because of it.
#18: Lil Baby - My Turn (trap)
Lil Baby shocks, rocks and burns himself to the ground on an hour of tracks that never seem to stop. Throughout the entirety of My Turn, Lil Baby will take passable yet sonically shaky beats and slip into them with an equally shaky voice that seems to question every word that comes out, like a frightened snake on fetal position, so the moments where it gets decides to stand up for itself and attack come out even stronger. He’s very aware of what’s going on, and he details the confusion that comes with suddenly being claimed as one of the greatest with a lot of dignity and proper questioning. He treats his own demons like something to be dealt with and not to be afraid of, he has an honorable attitude towards his own apparent passivity. It also helps that he stacks the thing up with hooks, so it’s hard to run away from the impeccable ear for a melody this guy has. He put himself out there with this record, and that’s beyond commendable. It was Baby’s year for a reason, after all.
#17: Brandy Clark - Your Life Is a Record (country)
Traditionalist in theory, yet so moving because of its perceived simplicity. Another country story about trying to move on from a break up, yet another long marriage too, and Brandy Clark takes a much more apprehensive way of looking at things. She reaches acceptance by the end, but not after realizing how she handles her own anger, how she’s willing to change herself for her former lover, and beg her to return, and just how far she feels from the rest of the world. She focuses on the small details, and so does the clean, pretty instrumentation that doesn’t aim high, but reaches a place that’s very minute and risky to touch, which is reluctance. Brandy’s able to walk away and not look back, but the future can only be so bright after everything that happened. But then again, she’s a realist; she knows all that. So let your heart break beat to the radio, after all this time.
#16: clipping. - Visions of Bodies Being Burned (hip hop)
clipping.’s underlying sense of humanity has never felt as present as on this album, a sister project to their previous album, There Existed an Addiction to Blood. This time, the stories are more fragmented, as Daveed Diggs is more willing to pass the mic to other characters, while he still plays the omniscient narrator, and the focus is much more specific, as black trauma rises above cavernous mixes filled with white noise and distortion, as the blood drips down from above. The ghosts of injustice are now rising, and the prices to pay are high and mighty. The tension never breaks, and the music seems to give itself into the mist, in order to own it. In the end, those ghosts are able to break free, and that leaves clipping. in an unfortunate position of not knowing where to go next. But we trust them, right? After 5 great projects? And they do say 6 is the lucky number.
#15: Katie Pruitt - Expectations (country)
An exploration of inner beauty and self-acceptance that turned into one of the kindest releases of the year. Katie Pruitt’s heartfelt debut shines in its inner doubtings that turn into reaffirmations of character and self-love. Her journey through coming to terms with her sexuality is a complex yet eventually a sweet one, as she’s able to prove everyone wrong, including herself. It’s also accompanied by some of the brightest production of the year, as every guitar and piano tone gets to shine like bright lights as the sun gently hits her face. She believes in herself and the importance of her journey, and that’s something to value during these times. This is witnessing a sensitive, colorful singer-songwriter emerge, and I’m somehow confident she won’t crash and burn. That’s the kind of strength Expectations has.
#14: Dua Lipa - Future Nostalgia (electro/dance pop)
A party for everyone to join. A celebration of the power of pop music with enough gravity and strut that it’s impossible to deny. It’s the kind of expensive pop music it’s hard to get nowadays. Dua Lipa is still not the most engaging performer, but paired next to so many people who understand her vision of modernizing the retro, she stands tall among many others that try to do the same. The grooves are majestically tight, as they move alongside melodies that dare you to remember them, because they know you will. As pop music, it’s one of the most confident releases of the year, and as music in general, it’s one that attempts to reach the whole world, and given its success, it clearly met that intention. Let’s hope the budget doesn’t go under.
#13: The Koreatown Oddity - Little Dominiques Nosebleed (hip hop)
After continuously listening to this album for over half a year now, it has remained a puzzling yet open listen. A look back on traumatic events on how those helped shape who you are now, and a look back with a lot of humor and a lot of humanity in it. The Koreatown Oddity, before anything else, praises the fact that he’s alive and has survived many events and phases that are behind him, and the message of this album is a strangely optimistic one. It helps that musically, it rolls around the tongue with such jazzy ease, it’s easy to forget this is all somehow self-produced! The Koreatown Oddity’s breakout album, and for a reason. That lap of luxury may not be reachable, but he’s got a mind of his own, and he’s proud of it for even thinking about it.
#12: Sparks - A Steady Drip, Drip, Drip (‘progressive’ pop)
Possibly the greatest, most eccentric, and rewarding duo of contemporary music return with yet another project to marvel over. After 25 albums and 50 years of career, they’re not ready to look back just yet, as the compositions are adventurous, cluttered and mesmerizing in their endless theatricality. The production’s a bit too mushy, but the instruments are in control of the ecstatic yet meandering grooves. It’s a fun listen, as always, yet one that doesn’t pull any punches, as the humor is more subdued and acid, for a reason. This album features the Mael brothers thinking about what they’re leaving behind, and how they feel they may have wasted the opportunity to have a more successful, acknowledged and bright career than the one they ended up having. There’s a lot of regret and a lot of need to justify to themselves the options they’ve taken throughout the years, and by the end of the album, they can only hope they and their generation haven’t fucked things up completely. Then again, Sparks haven’t been entirely optimistic, and this is par for the course. Pushing 70 and still defying themselves. Let’s celebrate it while we still can.
#11: Sufjan Stevens - The Ascension (glitch pop)
The critical turn on Sufjan Stevens this year has been undeserved and proof that a lot of people are willing to dismiss an indie artist when they think they own them. Sufjan took it to himself to create a baffling and depressing journey, full of colors that went deep into the underground to find some sort of solace, solace in the fact that he had lost his faith, that he was losing the ones he loved, and that destiny seemed to be doomed from the start. He reckons with his demons as the glitches and the electronic touches grow to be darker and brooder than ever before, in what may be his most revealing album to date, to the point where you feel like you’re overstepping just by listening to it. The sounds are dense and worried, and it’s clear there are a lot of questions that won’t be answered so easily. The album might serve as some form of epitaph, one to beliefs that are leaving him as he finds something else to look up to and look after, and one to the realization that that thing you worshipped was partially yourself. From that, comes a dense and complicated listen, and hardly ever a joyous one, but it was one that was needed this year. Sufjan’s sizable vision is one that you can’t dig so easily, but it’s as endless as his other works. Brilliant music-making.
#10: Open Mike Eagle - Anime, Trauma and Divorce (hip hop)
A testament to loneliness and the need to get out of that space. Yet another album on this list about divorce, yet this one is about what happens afterward, the path to building yourself back up. Open Mike Eagle has always been wrongfully marketed as ‘abstract hip hop’, while there’s nothing about his music, especially on this album, his most straightforward yet. He needs to focus on his son and his existing relationships, even as he went through some of the worst times of his life, and he lost too many people to take anyone for granted anymore. He keeps it all very lowkey though, and the music rarely ever gets to be too dramatic or too extra, mostly because he’s not. He mainly ponders and tries to reshift, with coping mechanisms, his trademark humor, and watching animé, which he relates to himself in different ways throughout the album. It’s a release that focuses on trying not to sink while you’re deep in the water, but also about not letting others sink with you. He’ll get there anyway, but it’s going to take a while. After all, what the fuck is self-care?
#9: Fiona Apple - Fetch the Bolt Cutters (singer/songwriter, jazz pop)
It’s hard to pinpoint how and why this album felt necessary this year, but it did. Fiona’s comeback was adventurous and full of potent rage, and she comes out like a spearheaded force that messes with the maniac music until it destroys it from the inside. And the music, so carefully careless, as it pushes around the box it was built for to become a heavy hybrid of percussion, primal sounds and theatre. It underlays Fiona’s desire to communicate better with the women in her life, even if she can’t always find the right words and gets stuck in her own loops of fright and commodification. She tries, and is an avenger for all of those whose voices could not or would not be heard, a monster with a lot of issues on her own back. It’s simultaneously an album where picking favorites isn’t too difficult a task, yet it works much better as a piece, and a deranged one at that. It’s an album full of and about rotations, patriarchal rotations, and a focused one at that. Beyond reproach, beyond fear, beyond destitution. Fiona Apple has won, and for a good reason.
#8: Irreversible Entanglements - Who Sent You? (free jazz/jazz poetry)
Moor Mother is a living, breathing beast, and one with a lot of texture under arm. Her jazz band, Irreversible Entanglements, is an example of musical freedom being sought by breaking through all kinds of walls possible, until there’s nothing left but ashes. They turn into angry fists that strike towards those who do them wrong; racism, stop and frisk, police in general, gentrification, religion, they attack all of it. Moor Mother chants her way through this pulping release, as she relentlessly creates mantras that go beyond the general and into the specific, as every system of injustice is questioned. The bars get broken, the pace is relentless, and the rhythm… hard to find anything like it. It’s truly a chaotic listen, and one that doesn’t expect you to welcome it with open arms. It almost rejects that pleasantry and goes straight towards the way to destroy. But destruction with a reason and a purpose, it never lets go of that. This ensemble’s looking for that lost ideal, and if they keep it up, there will be blood indeed.
#7: Taylor Swift - folklore (folk pop, singer/songwriter)
The best pop superstar of the millenium paints herself in quasi-indie colors, and the fact this is a midtier album for her is proof of the immense talent that she has. As the cover art suggests, it’s quite a black-and-white album, as the film reel in the one screen in her town pulls back no punches while playing old clips in the middle of a search for clarity regarding a lost relationship, even if she’s in one right now. The scenery is stunning, and Taylor’s always been a gentle and delicate songwriter, and this may be the album where she hits herself the most. A lot of devastating cuts that have grown into their own gardens, and the wooshed over orchestral instrumentation hits like wind in the middle of an abandoned house, as the memories take over. Taylor’s passionate and wide-eyed performance is stripped out of that kind of glamour, and is instead replaced by someone more jaded, more cynical, more at risk with herself. Trying to survive during these times is hard, especially when your heart is cut right open, and Taylor’s ability to tell such grand stories with such simple words is in full form here. An incredible work of art, one that even she can’t seem to replicate.
#6: Special Interest - The Passion Of (industrial punk, no wave)
30 minutes of passionate rage and anxiety that thrust upon whatever it can find. Music meant to be unpleasant because it’s had too much to carry for too long. Sexual anxiety and frustration transform into a look into big city gentrification and prejudice. The dirt meets the unwanted and the unneeded, and they’ve got pounding beats to make their voices heard. Ironically, lead singer Alli Logout is buried in the mix, but that makes sense: she’s another voice, in the middle of a crowd that just won’t seem to listen. It’s frustrating sounds, where the physical agitation and the lump in their throat will push the music to the point of needing to do something, to say something, in order to survive. This kind of mechanic yet glamorous music feels like a shout into the night, a megaphone in the middle of an empty crowd, as the machines mingle with the human and they realize that they, too, feel and ache. Mellowing synths and structures carry along this parade of proud blackness and queerness, because if there’s one thing they’re passionate about, is their identity. That’s what’s trying to be transmitted throughout this rush of an album. That’s why all the screaming and the aching are worth it. That’s why they stand up. A lot of noise condensed into a single package. If the nights weren’t already full…
#5: NNAMDÏ - Brat (‘experimental’ ‘hip hop’?, math rock?)
What a fucking weirdo. This guy attempted to mix the more experimental corners of trap with the melodic accessibility of mainstream pop with the technical skills and rhythmic complexity of math rock, and he succeeded at all of it, and even more. NNAMDÏ is a multitalent on this album; his songs sound distinct, varied, inapplicable to any genre without putting some sort of asterisk to it. There’s always something else there, and his way of crafting music that’s very compositionally heavy but also very light to listen to, thanks to a tight and skippy production, is mesmerizing. And he himself is an incredible presence, one that navigates the notions of being a manchild, being inexperienced, feeling like he’s earned more than he’s actually gotten, and being pissed at it, but also knowing deep down that’s not true. He wants too much, he needs too much, he demands too much, and when things don’t go his way, his tantrums are terrifying. The title Brat is applicable, as it musically features the mind of an overstimulated child, and lyrically portrays that sense of demanding and learning to understand that things don’t always have a happy ending. It’s a very bittersweet listen, and one that can be very off-putting, but what we have here is a cartoonishly wonderful man who, by the end of the day, is just asking to be heard. And in that sense, isn’t that all of us?
#4: Bad Bunny - YHLQMDLG (reggaeton/latin trap)
A hero, personal and universal. Bad Bunny brought so much energy and love to this sinister year with a collection of songs that didn’t let up. He brought together so many faces and artists, both known and unknown, to create something that went beyond himself. It’s a celebration of latin music and latin artists, it creates a space of communion and love for their craft. The reggaeton cuts are parties that go into oblivion, as they couldn’t soundtrack what were going to be the biggest jams ever conceived. The trap cuts were robust, stunning and hitting in their ways to shock, amaze and communicate a healthy amount of bravado with just the right attitude. The slower cuts dazzled, as Benito’s sensitive side never got lost, and his explorations were focused and vibrant. And the faster cuts were from a different world altogether, one where the endless perreo is a celebration of life, from all corners possible. Everyone is given a fair shot, and even if not all of them succeed, they seem to be glad to have the opportunity anyway. Benito has a lot of power, and he uses it for good. 20 tracks, over an hour, and it’s always felt like it wasn’t long enough. Only good things can come from something like this. After all, con un perreo se empieza.
#3: Elysia Crampton - ORCORARA 2010 (post-industrial latin ambient)
An art installation soundtrack turned into an art project that looks towards and goes beyond the stars that its ancestors had promised were the end of it all. Elysia Crampton’s Aymaran influences are paid respect in this multicolor stunner, an ambient story of Incan fugitives trying to find the river that will lead them and their culture away from all the brutality and trauma that Christian, European colonizers have left behind. It evokes the sense of danger, the sense of trying to let the dearest thing to them not get lost in the middle of their journey. This album reads and discusses poetry from all different sides of the Western world, and it questions those values with soundscapes that reach far into the salvation of a constellation that’s omnipresent, but not in any position to do anything. This album’s not a celebration of the attempt of rescuing what you value, nor is it a romanticization of generational, cultural trauma. Instead, it’s a look into the trials and tribulations needed for aboriginal Latin cultures to survive and thrive despite a world being more globalized and homogenic than ever. It shies away from any easy answers, as the electronic music meets the tribal and the primal, and the anxious quest to go beyond that looks for ways to not be turned into yet another forgotten story. Something needs to be called twilight, and this may not be it, but it reminds us of that promise.
#2: The Third Mind - The Third Mind (psychedelic/jazz rock)
A bunch of forgotten session musicians get together to record some of their favorite 60s folk and psychedelic rock tunes. The result is an encounter with the beyond that tries to find another tomorrow. Dave Alvin is the leader in this, and his guitar crunches through barricades of songs that are made relevant once again. The band’s traditionalist kind of thinking, trying to find something that sticks while just jamming out, makes songs from artists like Alice Coltrane, The Grateful Dead and Fred Neil reconnect with an audience that may have lost them by way of time passing by. It looks towards blue skies, seas and birds singing in the outskirts of town, but it also takes a look at those towns, those cities, those that end up dominating the landscape. It musically analyzes the presence of globalization, as everything is turned the same, and the naturalistic ideals the band evokes slowly become lost in time. The naivety of the compositions they cover is replaced by something brooder and more realistic, as those messages of peace and love no longer resist the day-to-day. Where have all the people gone? Why do we suddenly find ourselves isolated and lost? This album was recorded in 2018, yet it was one of the most present listens of the year. It ruminated on ideas that couldn’t be saved, and reflected once again on what it means to let old thoughts return.
#1: Adrianne Lenker - songs (indie folk, singer/songwriter)
One of the greatest folk writers right now comes in with an almost perfect set of songs, so barren and straightforward, it was only right to call the album songs. It’s just her and her acoustic guitar, and she brings tears out of that instrument, as she plays melodies and tunes that are both catchy and touching in their simplicity and warmth. Her lyricism, voice and production evoke the sense of wonder you can find deep in nature, as the woods surround you and you find yourself humming tunes for yourself. Those tunes become less withholding and more direct as she goes on, singing about a frail, broken relationship as she realizes what’s being lost, and tries to recuperate what little she can. Whatever moments, ideas, feelings, anything to hold on to something that was pure and honest. The separation is inevitable, and as the album goes on, she is able to examine herself… but she also loves that fantasy, that idyllic world in which everyone does everything right, and she can lay in her lover’s lap once again. The album is comforting, yet it also makes the listener confront those desires and those yearnings, and all the questions that could be brought up only bounce back to them, as you as a listener are left to question your own instincts, the way Adrianne does hers. It’s the most open, inviting and touching release of the year. An honor to listen to.