Foxygen wonderkind’s back w/ a falsetto soul strut, ornamented choir and piano-twinkle cathartic in service of a complete cease of game-playing with a lover’s heart, because that shit’s a waste of time as y’all know damn well. The wheel still looks the same, but Coffee greases it w/ pure gold sweat.
Possibly the most enduring of wholly marijuana-centric rap hits has an infectious enough beat to draw in squares and (obviously abstaining) children. Even though the video features a typically lavish mansion party, the duo spits about realistic, hoodrat dimebag deals; [LISTEN].
Croce’s biggest hit tells the story of a 6’4 badass from the “baddest part of town” over a shuffle-pop smash. The lyrical wit is accessibly simple, but not overly dumbed down. Of course, Leroy gets his comeuppance when he messes with the “wife of a jealous man,” so it’s a happy ending to boot; [LISTEN].
Reformed and totally absolved from the days of manic infidelity, two cons pleading their case. The admission is honorable and while everyone deserves a second chance there’s something about it that smells foul; specifically the dollar bin beat and the Sybaris odor of phony that emits from it.
Dashboard teenage AOR angst coming in Daft Punk-synth hot, Cyrus gnawing every backbone of every pop banger ever — re: love is a drug, and life just ain’t the same without it. Here the Billboard tigress hits the dreaded nightmare stage, on a saccharine yet cunning overdub mission to let it bleed.
Front runner for one of the most mundane hooks of the year, which of course can be attributed to an equally lame artist whose entire empire is built upon autotune and expensive, soon to be out of style clothes. Lyrically it’s the equivalent to Showbiz; full of plastic trinkets and fake cheese.
Somber, slightly dark wave-infused dance pop sounds great in 6/4 here. The Spaniards go for the usual “can you feel it”/empathogenic jive, and the whole package reminds somewhat of Hot Chip’s better material, although there’s little development over the track. Bonus points for the moniker; [LISTEN].
If you’ve ever wondered who’s watching the watchers then look no further; it’s your modern day R&B superhero who comes out once every five years to drop knowledge. The sticky boom-bap provided by Adrian Younge is slick and allows him to get his Prince on; hootin’ and hollerin’ in anguish and ecstasy.
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