Day: December 8, 2020

Dissecting the eclectic mix of music that represents grudges, love, heartbreak, and pure accidents. Essentially, 2020 in an article.

Like thousands around the world, I spend the first few days of December anxiously awaiting my Spotify Wrapped. Opening each year’s Spotify Wrapped is the adult, audiophile version of running around the corner on Christmas morning and squealing in delight as you see beautifully wrapped presents under the glistening lights of the Christmas tree. The Spotify Santas have done it again this year; this time with each page of Wrapped more shareable than ever. As a music psychologist who studies Spotify listening habits and is constantly checking my own statistics with Obscurify, I shouldn’t be that surprised at my year’s musical hierarchies. Yet, as with most things in 2020, I had to step back and laugh for a minute when I saw this year’s top artists. There’s only one artist that I even like, much less love, in my top five. 

 

1. The Beatles

Before I get immense hate for this, let me acknowledge that I appreciate what the Beatles did for the music industry and respect their innovation in marketing. That being said, I hate the Beatles. I’m not saying that to be edgy; I’m not one of those people who will tell you that the Beatles are overrated. Rather, I despise the fact that they stole styles from minorities and those less represented in the music industry, repurposed them, and sold them as their own without giving due credit. They also never credited many of these inspirations or the musicians who played on their albums — especially those who helped usher in a new era of “world music.”

Yet here I am, in the top 0.5% of their listeners for the year. How did we get here? After taking a course about the Beatles, I wanted educated opinions about why I hated them. I spent December and the first two months of 2020 excessively listening to their albums front to back, meticulously trying to understand and grasp why and how they made their music so alluring to generations. In the process, I discovered songs I did love, some of which still live in my head, rent-free. 

2. John Mayer

Out of my five top artists in 2020, I never would have expected John Mayer to make that list, much less steal the second spot. Similar to my opinion on the Beatles, I also don’t care for John Mayer that much, at least as a person. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn about his problematic nature until after I stopped listening to him. He’s a manipulative male singer who has dabbled in nearly every controversial topic, from dating Taylor Swift when she was 19 and he was 31 to cultural appropriation to a racially charged Playboy interview in which he used the N-word and described his penis as a white supremacist.

At this point, you’re definitely wondering why he’s on my top artist list. I genuinely wish he wasn’t, and I can say with confidence that this was by complete accident and a bit of psychology. Right before the pandemic struck America, I was returning to Ithaca from a weekend trip to Toronto. John Mayer’s 2006 album, Continuum, came up on shuffle on my friend’s playlist. His soothing vocals dance around the soft sounds of guitar right from the start of the album, and after a long weekend of exploring one of Canada’s best cities, I couldn’t help but fall asleep. I found this album to be the perfect sleepy-time soundtrack, and for the next week, I listened to it before falling asleep. Unfortunately, this led to me accidentally classically conditioning myself into only being able to fall asleep to this album. For all of March, April, and May, I fell asleep to this album every night. Continuum is the only Mayer album I’ve ever listened to, and I think I only know three songs outside of it. Next time, I’ll remind myself to start a Private Listening session before I fortuitously allow someone like Mayer to steal the spot of a deserving artist.

3. The Beach Boys

I was mentally preparing myself to see the Beach Boys near the top of this list, but again, they’re far from my favorite band. Growing up, my sister’s song was “Good Vibrations.” She sang it everywhere. I, of course, was annoyed, as older sisters usually are. This led to a deep-seeded hatred of the Beach Boys and their happy-go-lucky surf melodies. Until 2020, I don’t think I had even listened to a single Beach Boys song on Spotify, but this seems to be the Year of the Beach Boys for me.

In March, I started seeing someone whose favorite band is the Beach Boys. I wasn’t a fan — on our second date, we listened to both the Beatles and the Beach Boys and argued about who was better. Being the contrarian I am, I of course argued for the Beatles. I suppose that makes me a hypocrite, too. Nevertheless, my music taste began to change. I endlessly stalked his 10 hour, 53 minute Beach Boys playlist (this time, I remembered to use a Private Listening Session), eventually making my own much shorter version, and realized that the Beach Boys are much more than just surf rock. “Don’t Worry Baby” became the song of my summer, the song that gave me endless hope that life in this pandemic would be alright. I’m okay with the Beach Boys on this ranking; although I never would have seen that coming, I think this artist represents more than any other how 2020 has forced me out of my comfort zone.

 

4. All Time Low

Here is the only artist that I was confident would be on my top artist list. All Time Low, my guilty emo phase pleasure, stands as not only my #4 artist of the year, but also as my top artist of all time on Spotify. I had a long emo phase, but never stopped listening to All Time Low. Their album, So Wrong, It’s Right, is pinned on my wall against my bed. I haven’t listened to as much All Time Low since the pandemic started, and I’m not a huge fan of their new pop direction. Even their new song with blackbear, my #5 artist, stands no chance next to their mid-2000s music. I may not have been proud that such a remnant of my middle school self stands so high on my list when I posted my Wrapped on Instagram, but for my own sake, I’m happy that the first band I ever loved still remains in my repertoire of music-listening.

 

5. blackbear

I don’t know who blackbear is, what his real name is, where he came from, or what he even sang before “hot girl bummer.” Yet, I evidently liked him enough for him to be considered one of my top artists of 2020. Off the top of my head, I can name two blackbear songs beside “hot girl bummer,” those being “do re mi” and “idfc.” blackbear is popular with teenagers and young adults, especially since some of his songs got picked up on TikTok this summer. In fact, TikTok is the first place I ever even heard “hot girl bummer,” almost a year after it was released.

Music was an integral part of a relationship that I had been in, and after we broke up, I searched manically for new music. I was determined to not ruin music for myself, and although I risk sounding like a pining, whiny heartbreak song here (ahem, John Mayer), for a while, everything seemed to remind me of him. Thanks to TikTok, “hot girl bummer” became the new song of my summer. I hiked alone, reclaiming spaces for myself and listening to “hot girl bummer” and “hot girl bummer” alone for two straight weeks. It became somewhat of an anthem for myself and my roommates, as whenever we’d have relationship troubles, we’d shout into the living room, “Alexa, play hot girl bummer, volume 10!”

---

More than ever before, my music taste is all over the place, and Spotify Wrapped made sure that I knew this. I have 2020 to thank for that, as during months of quarantine, I shifted my preferred genres from something my friends would call “pretentious and angsty” to something they would now call “an absolute mess.” Despite this change and the fact that I can no longer give a succinct answer to “What type of music do you listen to?,” I can say with confidence that I am grateful for the availability of music through Spotify and the people who have changed my music taste. 2020, that’s a wrap!

“Evening Song” – Cornell University Glee Club

At around 6:15 PM every day, from the narrow streets of Collegetown to the gothic towers of West Campus, there’s one sound that will always ring true: the Cornell chimes ending the evening concert with “Evening Song.” About fifteen minutes later, the Cornell Glee Club and Chorus come together on Ho Plaza, arm in arm, to sing the same piece as we watch the sunset grow and then fade over Libe Slope. Non-Cornellian passerbys may think it strange that the tune of “O Christmas Tree” or “O Tannenbaum” plays every day of the year, but Cornellians know better. This song represents generations of Cornellians coming together “when the sun fades far away in the crimson of the west” and giving thanks for friends, family, and memories. Looking for a sign to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve left them? This is it. – EMILY HURWITZ

“Midnight Rider” – Gregg Allman

December 8th marks what would be Gregg Allman’s seventy-third birthday, so it is fitting for one of his classics to make an appearance on this month’s playlist. A more laid back take on the 1970 Allman Brothers Band hit, Gregg Allman’s solo version of “Midnight Rider” digs deep with its raw and stripped-down arrangement. It is the first track off of his 1973 Laid Back album, and he takes the previously deemed untouchable masterpiece down a darker road. While the song does build throughout the piece with an orchestra rave-up, its overall tone still remains gloomy and solemn, a perfect soundtrack for a reflection overlooking a winter sunset. “Midnight Rider” fades out to a silence, leaving the listener inspired to ride out into the sunset on a winter evening. “I’m not gon’ let ’em catch me, no / Not gon’ let ’em catch the midnight rider.” – SPENCER NACHMAN

“Shake Your Lonely” –  Twin Peaks

East Coast Park, Singapore 

Shake Your Lonely by Twin Peaks is an indie-pop, folk-inspired tune for a tranquil evening. Cradled by the steady amble of the drums, the syrupy electric guitars sketch a melody which goes down easily, drowsy and mellow. Frontman Cadien James’s smooth, winsome crooning is swathed in airy, shimmering upper-register harmonies as he makes the earnest promise that however the day passed, “it’s gonna be good.” Twin Peaks paints a soundscape like a sunset haze, glowing russet gold and serene, gently easing into indigo as the song draws to a close, taking the day’s cares with it. – LYNN HONG

“Mess” – Noah Kahan

Cornellians are full of ambition, always working towards achieving some goal. In his song “Mess,” Noah Kahan writes an honest depiction of his own wistful longing for the life of normalcy prior to reaching his goal of success and fame. Kahan’s raw lyrics combined with his distinct, husky voice and gentle strums of the guitar give an acoustic, folksy vibe not often found in pop songs. He sings “I would wipe myself clean of what I knew was unimportant” and “I paid off my debts but found the world boring” to remind us all of our roots. It gives off a nostalgic feel for every person’s own happy moments like kicking back on Libe Slope with friends or running through Collegetown together to catch a TCAT. There is a sense of comfort knowing that even this up-and-coming artist gets told “oh, you’re a mess, you’re a mess, good God” sometimes. – MIA GLASS

“Talking Slow” – Dylan Jordan

Filled with reverb and echoing sirens, Dylan Jordan’s “Talking Slow” elicits a feeling of nostalgia from every listener. The melody is comfortingly simple, and supplemented by layers of sounds, from a chorus of vocals to steady cymbals to the few strums of a guitar. Synthesized instruments and the ad-libbed vocals backing Dylan’s voice paint a cloudy dreamscape, complementing the story being told, “You were mine, at one point in time.” As a college student home for the holidays, I find myself torn between the joy of being with my family once again and the longing that I feel for my life at school. “Talking Slow” offers solace to those who are yearning to return to their independence, as Dylan reassures himself quietly “I am fine,” and we are reminded that we aren’t the only ones homesick in a new kind of way. – GRACE STASOLLA

“Closing Time” – Semisonic

Last Spring, I drove away from Cornell as a defeated man. Coming off the abrupt cancellation of our season and the school year, I had nothing left to give. Making matters worse, I was worried about the Canada-USA border, and getting stuck in a game of strange geopolitics that would not allow me to get home. Sulking away from Ithaca down the west side of Cayuga Lake, I gave up the fight and played closing time on repeat. Now, staring down the barrel of my last semester in Ithaca, the sun is setting on my own time in the finger lakes. Closing time indeed. – JON DONVILLE

“anything” – Adrianne Lenker

Without the rest of her main band Big Thief contributing to the indie folk sound, Adrianne Lenker plays alone with her acoustic guitar and mousy, nasally, close voice. The song begins with “staring at the barrel of the hot sun / shining with the sheen of a shotgun,” but soon delves into friends’ names and specific moments such as hanging her girlfriend’s jeans with clothespins and Christmas Eve with her family. Written in a cabin during lockdown, Lenker captures a relationship before its end (most of the new album songs is about her breakup), a winding melody guiding us through soft moments with a lover: “I wanna sleep in your car while you’re driving / lay in your lap while I’m crying.” The instrumental is sparse, only a light tapping of percussion with Lenker’s enchanting guitar plucking. “anything” feels as if it was conjured right out of nature, a fitting tune for gazing at a sunset, wrapped in a warm coat. – ANDIE CHAPMAN

“Chicago” – Sufjan Stevens

The center of Sufjan Steven’s 2006 masterpiece Illinois is a balancing act between orchestral crashes and isolation. After each instrumental build of horns, bells, cymbals, and layers of strings, culminating with a wall of choir vocals, the bottom of the song falls out, leaving Sufjan alone above simple piano chords. There, he begins his song: “I fell in love again, all things go. All things go.” – MILES GREENBLATT

“Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me” – Elton John

I don’t often roll down the windows, push the car stereo to the max, and let the rest of suburbia hear my undoubtedly ugly singing voice, but that’s just the Elton effect. Listen to this song at sunset and emotion will wash over you like Elton’s immaculate backing vocals wash over the instrumentation. Whether we want more time, more opportunities, or just a little more daylight in these dim December days, we can all relate to Elton’s plea to not let the sun go down on him. – JONAH LEVINE

“Nimrod (from “Enigma Variations”)” – Edward Elgar

Just as a sunset never fails to make me pause and stare, “Nimrod” imposes the same effect, never failing to make me stop everything I’m doing and solely internalizing this emotive work. The whispering awakening of violins lures in any listener who happens to stumble upon it. And just as there is a brief moment of a sunset, right before the sun dips below the horizon when the rays are most intense, “Nimrod” burgeons toward an impassioned climax, sustained by the restless roll of the timpani and blaring brass section before ending with a wistful egress. – PATRICIA KU

“Tag und Nacht (Day and Night)” – J. S. Bach

This aria for bass voice comes from a cantata of 1708 for the investiture of the Town Council in the German City of Mühlhausen. Written and performed when Bach was only twenty-two years old, the grandly ambitious work could be thought of as a senior thesis (though Bach never had the luxury of attending university): the cantata is full of newly acquired knowledge, original ideas, brave experiment—and new and beautiful music. The assuring tranquility of “Day and Night” projects both outward-looking wonder and interior reflection—those paradoxical emotions that sunsets so often inspire. In the aria’s instrumental introduction, pairs of flutes and oboes circle around one another, like the sun and earth, their motions marking the day and its end. The bass voice enters with a descending figure that divides the octave in half, as if chronicling the progress of the hours. As the piece moves calmly, inexorably on, we hear the passing of time and the moments—lingering, yet fleeting—between day and night.—DAVID YEARSLEY 

Alma Mater – Cornell University Glee Club

As we come to the end of a historic semester, we can’t help but reminisce in semesters past when attending class wasn’t a potential health hazard. What better way to do so than by listening to the iconic Alma Mater performed by none other than the Cornell Glee Club. A culmination of the best musicians and singers on campus, the stellar performance is sure to make you think of late nights at Olin Library, or long grueling walks up the Slope. The interplay between the various voice parts creates a powerful and resonant sound that is remembered by generations of Cornilieans. The perfect anthem to listen to as we come to the bittersweet ending of this momentous semester. – AARIK IBANEZ