Top 10 Albums of 2015 — Bryan with the Why

The year 2015 was everything 2014 wasn't. It was a high mark for music with an impressively substantive set of albums basking in a heavy consensus of praise with one universally acclaimed monster at the top. Whereas the prior year had a diverse group of albums claiming the top spot on many annual lists, this year it was pretty clear who would be comprising the highest spots.

As this is my first published “Best Of” list, I’d like to start with some good habits. This year I will impose the limitation to only post a definitive list about a year after that year has actually concluded. I’ll go ahead and call this “The D’Angelo Rule.” This comes after a year when overeager trigger fingers led the seminal album Black Messiah being left off many 2014 lists, a year that it rightfully belonged to and a year that an album of that caliber would own. In an awkward attempt of revisionism, some publications tried to sneak it onto this year's lists, validating it with the insane shadow it cast throughout 2015. But we all know the truth: Black Messiah was an epic bookend for the chaotic year of unrest that was 2014, and music publications just didn’t have the foresight to wait until the year was over to make their statement about it. That being said, you will not find D'Angelo on here despite its undeniable importance.

Another difference between the last two years is how they went out. With D'Angelo's surprise statement album and the first Kanye-McCartney collab track, 2014 showed promising signs of light in the future. After a year of being spoiled with a plethora of quality new music, it's not clear what kind of sign we should take from the tepid Kanye freestyle that dropped on this New Year's. Personally, I was holding on to hope that Frank Ocean would follow in his spiritual predecessor’s footsteps and release his long-awaited follow-up to Channel Orange just before the new year. But now, with complete confidence, I can present BwtY’s Top 10 Albums of 2015.

10. The Beyond/Where The Giants Roam - Thundercat

In all honesty, the amount of albums included on a list is arbitrary, I'm going to stick with ten this year because it's a nice round number, but this list truthfully began with about 18 albums. When it came time to pick the final slot, it came down to what I really wanted to include. In a list of just 10, the #10 spot has to be pure personal advocacy. This is the type of adoration that comes with Thundercat's music.

Despite it's EP length and debatably rote concepts, this album sounds unlike anything out there today (unless Thundercat is on the project as well). Bassists rarely get the credit deserved for their fundamental role in song dynamics, but Thundercat brings the instrument to the forefront. His skill with an instrument based in the rhythm section and its influence is undeniable here, as each track has a catchy beat coupled with propulsive, crisp percussion, such as on "Them Changes."

The Beyond/Where The Giants Roam treads familiar ground for the artist, but he skillfully keeps the dour subject matter from weighing too heavy. This feels like a part of Thundercat's natural progression, and although it's not a huge leap forward, it's an incredible achievement as an artist to reach this kind of consistency. This can be perhaps encapsulated by the fantastic collaboration with Flying Lotus and the legendary Herbie Hancock on "Lone Wolf and Cub." Thundercat's unique brand of jazz fusion and hip-hop fusion may be more familiar to listeners nowadays, but there's pleasure in witnessing the artist find new ways to challenge himself and reach new milestones.

9. Coming Home - Leon Bridges

Leon Bridges has a lot in common with Bruno Mars: they both make people feel simultaneously pleased and uneasy with how easily they can replicate an aesthetic from a previous generation. Leon Bridges is going for a modern day Sam Cooke, from song composition to vocal performance to style, and he's very good at it. Because of this comparison though, it might not seem like Bridges is reinventing the wheel. However, the point of Coming Home is Bridges reaching for the same things as Cooke rather than grasping for "Sam Cooke" the myth.

He achieves this with a set of infectious, soul-infused cuts that fittingly can lead to shameless twists and two-steps. When Bridges does break the mold, like on the deep cut “Lisa Sawyer,” he still keeps everything sweet. It’s songs like this, which focuses on his grandmother, that suggest Bridges is capable of something beyond just 1960’s song structures.

Bridges will certainly be an artist to watch. The comparison to Mars is not so much a slight as it is a challenge: can he make a successful career translating old musical genres to a modern audience without becoming too played out? Play your cards right Leon, and pretty soon you’ll have a Mark Ronson hit making you millions.

8. Have You In My Wilderness - Julia Holter

There's a voice calling out from the stillness of the void with a sweet melody. At least that's the image conjured when Holter's dreamy reverberated vocals and slowly swelling strings begin on the opening track "Feel You". What begins as a seemingly standard chamber folk record quickly transforms into a beautifully composed collection of songs that showcases Holter's versatility. From the orchestral and vocal ebbs and flows on "Lucette Stranded On The Island" to the sudden saxophone interlude on "Sea Calls Me Home," Holter successfully explores new musical territory.

Have You In My Wilderness is also perfectly paced. Just when the dreaminess starts to become draining, Holter drops the plucky pop gem "Everytime Boots." It's an irresistible tune that only she could craft, one that's fun while fully aware of the urgency of reality waiting to pop out at any moment (for Holter, they're hiding in the song's bridge).

This respite is followed by more gloominess and experimentation, but these digressions are more profound than self-flagellating. Even in their minute differences, these songs each bring something new, where each rush of strings feels like a new revelation. Luckily for us, Holter's type of wilderness isn't that of a barren wasteland, but a vast forest swathed with the abundant unknown.

7. Carrie & Lowell

Although Stevens has gained a reputation for setting-based songwriting over the years, his most recent album feels the most rooted in an actual home. He has created a deeply personal set of songs that views death and loss from the scope of his own complicated family. It’s a heavy, unrelenting piece of work that pairs even the most infectious melodies on “Eugene,” with lines like “What’s left is only bittersweet/For the rest of my life, admitting the best is behind me.”

And yet, listening to Carrie & Lowell doesn’t make you want to take a shower after every listen. Sure, it's lyrically ambiguous about overcoming grief, but overall this is one of his most focused works. He even harnesses his ambitious musical tendencies into complex folk melodies and beautiful but concise codas on songs like “Drawn to the Blood” and “Blue Bucket of Gold.” Stevens is lyrically ambiguous about how to overcome grief, but the conclusion will have you braced for the impact.

6. Sometimes I Sit And Think, Sometimes I Just Sit - Courtney Barnett

How does one properly serve as a fan of Courtney Barnett? On “Pedestrian At Best,” she essentially makes the case against fandom bordering on hero worship when she says “Put me on a pedestal and I'll only disappoint you/Tell me I'm exceptional, I promise to exploit you.” It’s a difficult task to avoid getting too personally connected to this album without feeling like you’re playing right into her hands and making you into a fool.

And yet, this album has connected with so many over just a year, even nabbing a Best New Artist nomination at the Grammy’s. The way Barnett went blazing through 2015 is representative of how Sometimes I Sit And Think… goes. The amount of aggression and passion is only equaled by aloofness and apathy. On top of catchy and edgy rock compositions, Barnett presents an authentic angst to host of everyday first world struggles like simultaneously wanting to go out and stay in.

Barnett’s personality and demeanor is refreshing as someone who addresses real and trivial worries with the same directness and lack of airs. She is a relatable voice that has broken into the mainstream consciousness; whether or not that is a good thing to her is unclear. For the rest of us, it clearly is.

5. Currents - Tame Impala

There’s a bit of personal bias here for me because I was robbed by Tame Impala this summer. At a show in Washington DC, admittedly early in their tour, they played an excellent set save for one thing: there was nothing we hadn’t head from Currents already. I can understand the spoiler-free approach since the show was before the album was released, but this means I was deprived of the dance club beats that propel this album from start to finish.

On Tame Impala’s third album, they shift from the distorted psychedelia of their prior efforts to an ethereal, electro-funk dance set. It’s a jarring transition that happens right around the 5-minute mark of the first song “Let It Happen.” The songwriting is still rich with themes like human intimacy and disconnect, but Kevin Parker now approaches these with clear-eyed maturity. Lines such as “I know that I’ll be happier/And I know you will too/Eventually” suggest that Parker has gotten some deeper insights since he was celebrating solitude or daydreaming about a crush.

This album really grows on you, and perhaps a bit slower than its two predecessors. While there isn’t a truly weak track on there, there is definitely a lot more to digest. The last few songs, although great in their own right, tend to drag when listening to the songs consecutively. It also helps that the bona fide banger “The Less I Know The Better” comes pretty late in the album.

This diversion for Parker and his outfit is a good sign of progress. Although it’s not absolutely perfect in every sense, it does feel like a perfect transitional album that shows a welcome bit of experimentation and risk-taking.

4. Depression Cherry / Thank Your Lucky Stars - Beach House

I know grouping these two albums together goes against the intentional decision by the band to release them separately, and yet this is the price you pay by releasing two exceptional albums in the same year. Depression Cherry was already an impressive work in its own right, but the surprise release of a second fully-formed, strongly consistent, and impressively cohesive album made 2015 a definitive year for Beach House.

Depression Cherry is a statement album from a band that most people probably expected to fade out after the diminishing returns of 2012’s Bloom. Despite the heavier themes and return to more minimalistic instrumentation, this album is bursting with life. It’s Legrand and Alex Scally at the peak of their creative abilities, displaying a mastery of their particular style. However, the band hasn’t forgotten what has helped them build such a dedicated fanbase, and this becomes even more obvious with their follow-up.

Thank Your Lucky Stars could easily fit into Beach House’s career following their breakout album Devotion or dreamy masterpiece Teen Dream. It is nothing short of a huge creative achievement that they are able to create music reminiscent of their earlier, dream pop days while maintaining the affective emotion and maturity of their prior two releases. It also feeds into a greater appreciation of Depression Cherry as it accentuates the massive strides they have taken with their sound.

It’s with Thank Your Lucky Stars that Beach House makes the same meta-statement to all the Teen Dream purists who haven’t developed a taste for their more recent foray into the morose territory of Bloom and Depression Cherry: they could easily go back to what worked in the dream-pop heyday. But they're over-achievers; instead of a song to remind the masses, they released a whole album. It is for this reason that on a good day, you could argue that there subsequent release is the superior of the two. But I’m not making that argument today, so a tie will have to suffice.

3. If You’re Reading This It's Too Late - Drake

Drake has made a career out of turning singles into overnight classics. Although he has an unmatchable ear for hooks, he has never made a complete album with start-to-finish knockout hits, until now. Honestly, by the time Drake released his string of diss tracks for Meek Mill in July, If You’re Reading This... already felt like a solidified benchmark in his career. Whether it was his insertion of “woes” into the millennial lexicon or the parody video for “Energy” that thrust music videos back into relevance (something he built on later in the year), Drake very much defined pop culture in 2015.

Those are just the sound bites though. There is unprecedented depth for Drake on this album, which finds him simultaneously at his most boisterous, mature, and sultry. He builds on the earnestness of Nothing Was The Same, which finally allowed him to take control of the narrative of his career, and combines that with the fun, playful persona that we’ve become so accustomed to hearing on his non-album singles. Perhaps the label of “mixtape” allowed Drake to loosen up a bit more, but he made his most enjoyable and accessible album yet without compromising the maturity and respect that he has worked so hard to cultivate.

2. I Love You, Honeybear - Father John Misty

How can a dubious, sharp mind like Josh Tillman surrender to the blind, ignorant charms of love? The journey is packed with that inherent irony, but his acceptance comes with more unashamed bliss than bitterness. As Father John Misty, he fights to keep his confident veneer and debilitating vices intact as he confronts the enticing urges of love, and while he might have a bit more to shake off than the average person (see: “The Night Josh Tillman Came”), his internal struggle remains relatable. He approaches this internal struggle with such honesty that we witness a man that is unable to get out of his own way to be happy.

In a cynical world that often equates falling in love to selling out, one of the most contemptuous minds finds a way to flip the script. The same cantankerous, maniacal perspective behind this can find the beauty in the realism of "I Went To The Store One Day." After all of the layers that have been shed leading up to that pivotal final track, we finally hear some semblance of truth from Tillman: love is chaotic.

1. To Pimp A Butterfly - Kendrick Lamar

This is where the D’Angelo Rule becomes so important; although the newest releases from Kendrick and D’Angelo vastly differ in composition and execution, they very much occupied the same social schema. And while Black Messiah has had an irrefutable impact on the national conversation regarding the fatally flawed American justice system, the loudest statement in 2015 came from To Pimp A Butterfly.

There’s not much that hasn’t already been said about this album. It’s the album of our generation. It gave the #BlackLivesMatter movement a rallying cry. I mean shit, it was #1 on Obama’s list. Kendrick Lamar, with his team of collaborators, set out on an unprecedented mission to redefine a rapper's capabilities, not only within the genre but as a member of society too. Lamar views the injustices of the world from his newly-minted celebrity status and instead of distancing himself from his past, he dives back in.

An impressive thing about this album is how its depth equally matches its ambition; while there’s no question “Alright” is the blockbuster track, even the deepest cuts have extraordinary playability. “Momma,” might be the low-key best all-around track in terms of concept and delivery, while “You Ain’t Gotta Lie (Momma Said)” finds Kendrick at his most Q-Tip. Both songs, which have no chance of actually becoming mainstream hits, still manage to stand out even when sandwiched between immediate juggernauts like “The Blacker The Berry” and “i.” The album follows Lamar as he grapples with fame and his responsibility to his community, but he makes this introspective moral dilemma accessible with assured intention, deft production and an elaborate recurring skit that drives the theme home.

The most incredible part of To Pimp A Butterfly, and the legend that has followed since its release, is how engrained it has become in our society. Lamar approaches issues on race and violence unapologetically and forces his listeners to face these injustices head-on without buckling for broader appeal. This doesn't even account for the genre-defying production he used, the unparalleled focus on storytelling and multi-layered concepts, or the "conscious rapper" attitude that typically doesn't sell for mainstream hip-hop. Kendrick may not have figured out how to change the system yet, but he no longer seems conflicted about how to use his influence.