Music

A New Year’s Eve playlist

BY COLIN MCGUIRE

Special to The News-Post

Well, so this is the new year. Almost, at least. Either way, each time the human race counts to 365 and then resets for another 365 (unless there’s a leap year, of course), we all get a little nostalgic. What have we done? Where are we now? And what do we hope to do next?

Those feelings tend to dominate a lot of the discourse around the New Year holiday. And then … well, and then everyone drinks too much champagne, a nasty hangover sets in on Jan. 1, and the new year starts right where the last one left off. “I’ll get to those resolutions,” you think. “I just need to sleep until my head doesn’t hurt first.”

And so behold a New Year’s playlist: 10 songs that you might not necessarily want to jam to on New Year’s Eve with a group of people but that mark this age-old tradition that’s typically defined by nostalgia and hope in one way or another. Considering how this list comes from me, yes, count on most of these having a sad undertone. Even so, nothing says, “Next year will be better, I promise,” more than a college rock-quartet insisting the world is about to end. So, cheers, friends. And here’s to 12 more months — for better and for worse.

“Auld Lang Syne” (traditional): The OG New Year’s Eve song. Go to the World Wide Internet and things like Google and Yahoo will inexplicably tell you to listen to the Mariah Carey version, but the truth is that you could do so much better by listening to … well, pretty much any other version ever made. The track’s history, heritage and prominence for as long as New Year’s Eve has been a thing makes this pretty much the only NYE song that matters. Grab a loved one. Make a toast. Shed a tear. Salute.

“The New Year” (Death Cab for

Cutie): If you’re of a certain age and a very specific temperament, this might just be the only song you go to when you think of New Year’s songs. “So, this is the new year/ And I don’t feel any different,” Ben Gibbard sings in his “I told you I invented emo!” voice, and for all of us sad saps, it’s at least slightly comforting to know someone else is probably more likely to cry than they are to laugh on a night like this. Still, considering how so many people lean on this tune once Dec. 31 comes around, I’ll go ahead and say this might be one of the more skippable tracks on this list.

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R.E.M.

“It’s the End of the World as We

Know It (and I Feel Fine)” (R.E.M.): The whole Y2K thing spooked people out (more on that in a second), but the truth is, as the clock turns to a new year each Jan. 1, there’s a tiny bit of “wait, what if the world just blows up right now” in all of us. Oh, just me? Fine. Either way, you can start off any year the right way if you manage to get through all the words in the verses without messing anything up.

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Paul Simon, 1966.

“Still Crazy After All These Years”

(Paul Simon): It’s just so tender. And if you check out any live version, once that saxophone solo hits, it’s like a thousand New Years coming together for the ultimate goodbye to what once was — all while basking in the glow of an earned reunion. The people Simon creates here are worn, and the story he weaves is heavy. A precise metaphor for any new year, no matter the era.

“1999” (Prince): And speaking of Y2K, remember when the world was supposed to end? That was fun. Somewhat obviously, it didn’t. But it did give Prince a resurgence in pop culture for a hot minute 20-some years ago, and that’s always a good thing. Plus, let’s be fair. This is a party song through and through. If you really insist on dancing and/or feeling good, this should do the trick.

“Party For One” (Carly Rae Jep-

son): Because who among us hasn’t spent at least one New Year’s Eve attending a party for one?

“New Year’s Day” (U2): From the “Oh, yeah, I forgot U2 has this song, too” department comes a song from the days when those guys were young and music videos in the snow felt natural. It’s a love song, but even the cheesiest of tunes in the U2 oeuvre can’t help but get political. Still, you can’t have a song called “New Year’s Day” and not include it in a playlist dedicated to New Year’s stuff. Speaking of which …

“New Year’s Day” (Taylor Swift): I’ll leave the debate on who wrote the better “New Year’s Day” up to you, but I will say that at least TayTay’s appears to have something to do with New Year’s Eve/Day in a direct way. A decidedly more somber song, it’s a story of projecting reluctance toward the end, all the while leaving hope for the future (the “hold on to the memories” and “don’t be a stranger” lines prove as much). Swift loves her imagery and “I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day” is a line that accomplishes that goal in spades.

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Taylor Swift

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Etta James

“Champagne & Wine” (Etta

James): From the final studio album the queen Ms. Etta James ever made, this 2011 track follows the template that some of her iconic peers took in their later years — maybe they can’t sing as well as they once could, but I’d be damned if they don’t have as much charisma as they’ve ever exuded behind a microphone. It’s a longing song, it’s a reflective song, and it’s delivered with as much power as the “I’d Rather Go Blind” singer has ever offered. Plus, come on: You know you’ll be having some champagne and wine at about midnight Dec. 31 … right?

“Holiday In Spain” (Counting

Crows): “Well, Happy New Year’s, baby, we can probably fix it if we clean it up all day,” singer Adam Duritz asserts toward the end of this earlyera Counting Crows track. “Or we could simply pack our bags and catch a plane to Barcelona ‘cause this city’s a drag,” he concludes, and each time I hear it, I think of all the disasters New Year’s Day can bring after a particularly eventful New Year’s Eve. It’s a sad song, but hell if it doesn’t make you feel like it’s midnight pretty much any time, all the time.

Colin McGuire has been in and out of bands for more than 20 years and also helps produce concerts in and around Frederick. His work has appeared in Alternative Press magazine, PopMatters and 72 Hours, among other outlets. He is convinced that the difference between being in a band and being in a romantic relationship is less than minimal. Contact him at mcguire.colin@gmail. com.

MUSIC

Spotify Wrapped reveals writers’ 2022 faves

Everyone who enjoys Spotify enjoys seeing what the app comes up with at the end of the year in its annual Spotify Wrapped reveal, a personalized summary of our listening habits, down to the number of minutes we streamed music (and maybe podcasts) that year. A few of us weighed in on our results — the good, the bad and the ugly.

My top five songs on this year’s Spotify Wrapped were dominated by songs from my favorite album of the year: “Diaspora Problems,” by Philadelphia-based hardcore punk band Soul Glo.

This record, which released in late March, was one of those records where, from the minute the first song began, I knew it would hold a special place in my heart this year. Throughout the record, Soul Glo plays some of the most chaotic, frenetic hardcore punk music I’ve ever heard, injecting some life back into the criminally underrated Philadelphia punk scene.

It’s worth noting that “Diaspora Problems” probably won’t be for those who don’t have a taste for some of the more extreme varieties of punk, but for those who do, and are willing to dig in deep to the group’s lyrics, there is much to be rewarded with. Across “Diaspora Problems,” Soul Glo dives deep into what it means to be Black in America, what it means to grow up after watching 9/11 happen on elementary classroom TVs, what it means to live in an America with so few economic opportunities for so many people. Soul Glo is a band that has plenty of reasons to be angry, and that raw, righteous anger comes out in both their lyrics and their music.

Sonically, Soul Glo plays a ferocious style of hardcore, with every song ripping past the listener at an absolutely blistering pace. And not to be caged by one genre, Soul Glo also incorporates elements of hip-hop, electronic music and some extreme metal into the record, to create a sound unique to them.

“Diaspora Problems” is an album unlike anything else I’ve heard this year, and I heartily recommend it to all those who have a love for chaotic but passionate music. Top Genre: Rock

Top Artist: Soul Glo

Top Song: “Gold Chain Punk (whogonbeatmyass?)” by Soul Glo

Listening Personality: The Adventurer

Hours of Spotify played: 86,151 minutes (or 1,435 hours ... or nearly 60 full days, if we want to get granular, which honestly makes me feel like I might have a problem) — Patrick Kernan, Loudoun TimesMirror editor

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I was not surprised to learn my Top Artist was Orville Peck, nor that I was in the top 1% of Orville Peck listeners — much better than 2020, that solitary year when I played Taylor Swift’s “Folklore” on such heavy rotation, I ranked in her top 1% of listeners (I can only imagine how much listening that takes).

I was lucky enough to catch Orville Peck live at Sunshine Theater in Albuquerque, New Mexico, earlier this year, and I think I fell in love with him that night (yeah, I know he’s gay, and we’ve never actually met, but a girl can dream).

Another top artist of my year was Low (RIP, Mimi Parker). Both artists were introduced to me by a guy I was dating earlier this year, which I think is one of the greatest things about relationships: introducing each other to new ideas, people, traditions, favorite roads and foods and secret swimming spots and hiking trails and, of course, music.

Top Genre: Art Pop

Top Artist: Orville Peck

Top Song: “Highest Building” by Flume

Listening Personality: The Adventurer

Hours of Spotify played: 42,825 minutes — Lauren LaRocca, 72 Hours editor

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I believe this is the third year in a row that Jack Harlow has been my top artist. The first two years, it was definitely accurate. And as a whole, this the most accurate Spotify Wrapped the app has presented to me, with the exception of top artist.

It’s around this time of year that I fall into a deep thought, probably too deep, about how Spotify decides and tracks songs. How does a song get counted toward an artist or toward a

Courtesy of Spotify

top-played song? Does a song have to play all the way through, or does it just need to start and get past the 10-second mark? Because Jack Harlow occupies the most real estate in my liked songs, if I put my liked songs on shuffle, of course Jack Harlow will appear more.

Again, I am probably thinking too hard about this, but I love my results every year nonetheless.

Top Genre: Rap

Top Artist: Jack Harlow (I am a top .5% listener)

Top Song: “Welcome to Chilis,” by Yung Gravy and bbno$

Listening Personality: The Voyager

Hours of Spotify played: 29,539 hours — Clara Niel, News-Post staff writer

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My Spotify Wrapped is inaccurate. And no, that’s not (just) because I’m embarrassed by it.

It’s because until about two months ago, I didn’t have a subscription to Spotify Premium. For the uninitiated (or should I say initiated?), that meant I couldn’t select individual songs to listen to on the app. Instead, if I wanted any choice at all in what music I heard, I would have to create playlists, which Spotify would then randomly shuffle.

For some reason, this meant I wound up listening to “I Will Follow You into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie, like, a lot. How much? I’d rather not say.

Without the luxury of Spotify Premium, I spent most of the year — and my college career — listening to music almost exclusively on YouTube. (Yes, that includes while running and driving. Yes, I am aware of how unhinged that is.)

Anyway. If YouTube had its own version of Spotify Wrapped, here’s what I think mine would be, in no particular order:

“Concorde” by Black Country,

New Road — My sweet cousin died suddenly earlier this year. For several weeks after his death, all I could stand to listen to was BCNR’s album “Ants from Up There.” Isaac Wood’s voice hovers somewhere between sounding ragged from sobbing and unsteady, like he’s veering toward a breakdown. “Concorde” is the second song on this album. It’s also one of my favorites.

“New Partner” by Palace Music

— I fell in love with this song over the summer, though it was released nearly two decades ago. I first heard of it in an episode of the podcast “The Anthropocene Reviewed,” which is hosted by the young adult fiction author John Green. The lyrics are confusing, vague and, at times, fairly odd. I listened to it on loop for about a week.

“Means Something” by Lizzy

McAlpine — A kind boy I dated briefly at the end of last year introduced me to the album this song is on. The first time I heard it, I had to stop cooking and sit down on my kitchen floor to listen to it. After finishing the album, I wrote something just for myself for the first time in many years.

“All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version)” by

Taylor Swift — This year is the year I rediscovered Taylor Swift. To me, this song will always sound like driving through the back roads of Frederick County in the fall and will always remind me of the place I have been so lucky to call home for one and a half years.

“Stick Season” by Noah Kahn

— I am currently on a break from this song because I unfortunately listened to it so many times, I’m tired of it. It is among the most accurate songs I’ve ever heard about surviving a breakup. It talks about what it’s like to romanticize a former partner and miss the version of them you made up in your head. I also love this song because for several days, I only knew it through the muffled sound of guitar strumming from the room beside mine, as my dear friend learned to play it. — Angela Roberts, News-Post staff riter