I’ll open with an honest disclaimer; I can’t come up with a decent enough hook to try and distinguish this blog from any other end-of-year ruminations you’re more than likely to read, if any. So, in an effort to keep it short and punchy so as not to take up too much of your intrepid reading time, I’ll try and condense my erstwhile opinions into bullet-points of indeterminate length that sum up some of what I felt about the music I particularly loved and loathed this year:
Get The Rimming Reference Out Of The Way First: The first thing I remember learning from the year 2012 was that even the most celebrated living Beatle can’t get away with this album title in a post-Human Centipede world, especially after sucking so hard on two of the most–watched live telecasts of the year. Paul, Stella can carry on the family name without you now; please step down.
The Ongoing Chris Brown/Rihanna Saga: I would have ignored this whole sorry farrago if Rihanna didn’t offer up the most fascinating “fuck you for caring” album to her fans this year with Unapologetic, which really ought to have been the title of Brown’s album, no? Not only is it absent of genuine bona-fide singles (lead single Diamonds sounds like a meh Lana Del Rey b-side given a gorgeous production booster), the album is otherwise rich with moments of spiteful, black-hearted irony at the listeners expense. The one time it works, on her jaded reggae-lite jam No Love Allowed, it’s admittedly fabulous; it reaches its nadir however with the much-discussed Brown duet Nobody’s Business. The twisted genius of this song actually being album’s brightest, most innocuous-sounding track, until it’s immediately re-contextualized via its performers’ shared history and let-them-eat-cake-style message about seeking privacy from the world (which is more than a little rich coming from the most overexposed celebrity couple this side of the royal family) turns it into the most subversively dark moment in 2012 pop. In lieu of all of this then, maybe, just maybe, she and Brown deserve each other…
All the best, douches…
Other Annoying Shit That Went Down In 2012: With every subsequently underwhelming release since their fabulous debut, I’ve been content to keep Scissor Sisters in a 2004 time capsule (specifically because they featured invaluably as part of my university soundtrack). But when they came out with all of this faux-hip, ‘ironic’ “Kiki” bullshit, I lost all hope and had to sever sentimental ties there and then; thank God they’re going on an indefinite break now. The X Factor became a genuinely unpleasant TV behemoth to sit through this year in its shameless pandering to so-called entertainment and drama, overloading on ruthless exploitation of so-called wacky characters and sob stories (anyone who remembered Peter Kay’s wonderful parody from 2008 were right to assume it was a complete rehash of that but without the funny bits). Calvin Harris continued to rediscover his inner Todd Terry and punch the same conveyor-belt hit button with anyone rich enough to solicit his wares, but even they weren’t half as annoying as the drilling-the-head vapidity of DJ Fresh’s output (speaking of which can anyone explain to me how someone as dull and bland as Rita Ora managed to get three number one singles?) Having said all that though, I’m all for Gangnam Style, any day of the week; hey, I didn’t say my tastes were completely impervious to novelty-pop!
Misery Loves Company…: Carrying on with Jessie J’s infuriating lineage of pop volte-face between rather-great-debut-single-preceding-a-dispiritingly-dull-and-warbly-debut-LP from last year, Emeli Sandé followed last year’s somewhat-shameless-rip-off-of-Unfinished-Sympathy-but-still-brilliant Heaven with a collection of “he left me” sophorisms in Our Version Of Events. And the UK responded by making it the best-selling album of the year (when they weren’t inexplicably still buying the most-overrated album of our time anyway); come on everyone, I know 2012 was fucking terrible by most people’s standards, but music should provide a sublime escape, not a lazily-manipulative solace. Not that I’m against having a big cry whilst listening to music (and I’ll be the first to admit Sandé herself can be capable of such moments, as her chilling performance of Abide With Me at the Olympics opening ceremony demonstrated, before she got booked to sing what seemed like absolutely fucking everything else at the closing ceremony anyway), but 2012 gave us so much more emotionally rich and beautifully orchestrated balladry that went unnoticed (listen here, here and especially here).
Gratuitous Louis Shot… well, what, I mentioned the Olympics, didn’t I?
…Having Said That, Lana Del Rey Is Still Awesome: By pop music’s faddy standards, LDR/Lizzy Grant/Radiator Lady Of 2012 had quite a tumultuous year. Found out as a major-label-signed imposter by the bloggers who fiercely applauded her auspicious Video Games single last year and bolstered her web-based-ingenue profile before her album Born To Die was even announced, she proceeded to drop a few clangers infront of the entire world (a particular lowlight being that performance on Saturday Night Live) and still convincingly carve out a sizeable niche for herself in the pop music sphere anyway to warrant a multi-million selling LP and an enormous worldwide tour next year. And, now that the dust has settled, we can all admit that it is because the songs are quite frankly that amazing, though that Blue Velvet/H&M campaign was a step too far with regards to emphasizing the whole Dorothy Vallens vibe she cultivates (David Lynch himself is a fan); but hell, if Damon Albarn and Bobby Womack saw fit to work with her, she’s definitely got something, right?
Amazing Comebacks Will Never Get Old: Speaking of Mr Womack and Mr Albarn, between them and XL Recordings head-honco Richard Russell they came out with one of the most genuinely amazing albums of the year with Albarn acting as co-producer with Russell on Womack’s first solo album in twelve years, the futuristic-soul epic The Bravest Man In The Universe. Womack’s wasn’t the only return to the fold that warranted such adulatory attention though. Granted, there were plenty of acts this year that decided to tread the comeback trail with varied results (Ben Folds Five, Bloc Party, Ultravox, No Doubt and The Smashing Pumpkins all came out with new material this year to a collective shrug from the public), however, you can’t deny some of the almost-magisterial authority with which some swaggered their way back into the frame. Between Nas finally returning full-force after lubing up via well-received appearances on other people’s albums (and returning the gorgeous favour he left on Amy Winehouse’s posthumous collection last year with this sequel), Solange stepping out of a needlessly-extended hiatus with a valuable cache of sweet-soul heartbreak on mini-marvelous EP True and, even more amazingly, Godspeed You! Black Emperor kicking every alt-post-psychedelic-kitchen-sink act out of the way, we were spoiled for choice when it came to gloriously revisiting the past.
Go-Homo Vs. No-Homo: If we can credit 2012 for anything in pop, it is the broadening of sexual boundaries within urban music hailing from America, whose scene had heretofore not been the most inclusive of same-sex dalliances (just ask Chris Brown, the fucking douche). It must be said, Frank Ocean’s coming out as having fancied a man with the a beautifully-worded, sort-of press release before we heard the most sexually-fluid mainstream R&B album of our time helped provide the impetus (and the resulting recognition from his more established peers thereafter was as heartrendingly groundbreaking as channel ORANGE itself), but the wheels were kept in motion via quite a few more iconoclastic voices. Two of the most celebrated hip hop mixtapes of the year came from out-and-proud gayers LE1F and Mykki Blanco, whilst female soul-duo THEESatisfaction gave alternative R&B a sexy, Sapphic twist with their debut awE naturalE (QueenS may be the most underrated party single of the year), but that was nothing compared to the identity-fortification displayed by Angel Haze and Azealia Banks. The former trades in more classically-influenced hip hop that makes her no less prodigiously intimidating, her lyric-spitting on breakout track New York riding a Gil Scott-Heron sample to provide the most badass tune of the year whilst her later re-work of Eminem’s Cleaning Out My Closet gave 2012 rap its most harrowing confessional. However, Banks remains the go-to for queer rap’s future as a pop force to be reckoned with; an irresistibly playful mix of sexual voraciousness, fashionista privilege and potty-mouthed insouciance (and armed with the sexiest mile-wide grin to boot), there’s no reason why she can’t take over the world properly in 2013.
Gurrrl, you crazy…
The Year That ‘90s Dance Came Back: Speaking of Ms Banks, her 1991 EP not only did well to display her verbal dexterity and devil-may-care attitude towards sexual mores (even the Prime Minister’s wife was impressed), but was also the most gorgeous throwback to early-90s dance music any former club-kid could ask for. And this was a trend that was the best thing to happen to dance-pop in the past year; special mention goes to Hot Chip’s Joe Goddard, who managed to find time to co-mastermind The 2 Bears’ debut LP Be Strong, an album redolent with soulful samples and dub-friendly joviality that served as a warm reminder of how guilelessly rejuvenating dance music could be, only to have it trumped in terms of sheer good feeling by his other band’s own In Our Heads, which found all five indie noiseniks at their most summery and playful. But the most fabulous paean to The Most Underrated Decade Of Pop Music History came from singer/songwriter/producer Rod Thomas and his debut album as Bright Light Bright Light, Make Me Believe In Hope; an album as joyous, euphoric and disarming as it is intimate, honest and brave, Thomas embraces the music ingrained in his formative years to deliver a tribute that holds as much emotional sway to have you dancing with as much giddy abandon in a sweaty nightspot as it would at high volume in your bedroom (listen to single Waiting For The Feeling and try and tell me it’s not the Best Pop Song Of 2012).
My Preferred Pickle-Ticklers Of 2012: Which quite unceremoniously leads me on to highlight a few of the sexier offerings made for our sonic delectation this year, by my exacting standards anyway. From a purely aesthetic point of view, Joe and Raf of The 2 Bears get another shout-out here (obviously), but the sexiest dance music happened to come from Russia via Nina Kraviz’ eponymous debut album, a sinful ‘n’ sultry delight of after-hours beats and grooves. For successfully cribbing vintage licks from the likes of Prince and Springsteen whilst turning himself into a formidably sexual troubadour in ample supply of his own magnetism, George Lewis Jr., a.k.a. Twin Shadow’s, sophomore album Confess warrants a mention too, a driving soft-rock saga that manages the trick of charting its protagonist’s treacherous journey to the night of his soul via a desolate road littered with broken hearts but still making him an elusive-yet-charismatic figure. But the most sublimely sexy album of the year belongs to one Josh Martin, a former trucker who under the name Daughn Gibson released a collection of tales of hard knocks and lonely souls stewed in gothic Americana at its most outlandish-yet-gorgeously toxic. As much a cut-and-paste electronic mini-opus as it is a tome of modern-day country-grit, the snatches of God-fearing guitars, strings and gospel samples are held in place by Martin’s tremulous baritone, stoic and beautiful as it both chastises and laments his songs different characters. And if that doesn’t sound mouth-watering enough, the man happens to look like a fucking film star.
“Fine” isn’t the word…
Well, I’m going to have to absent myself from this entry, not just on account of Mr Gibson’s hotness, but because I have plenty more to write about and a single entry just can’t handle the weight without being overlong. Tomorrow I will follow through with something less ranting-bollocks-ey and more chart-based, so it should be easier to read, with even more great music to feature that I couldn’t quite get around to talking about here. But if you’ve made it this far, thank you and please feel free to have a listen to my special Spotify playlist compiled in an effort to celebrate the best music to see release over the last twelve months. And if you happen to like it, don’t forget to share… See you tomorrow (maybe). xxxo
dibdersbooth 
