Among other achievements last year, like releasing an expansive, eclectic pop record, Rina Sawayama got the Brits to alter their eligibility criteria to include residents, rather than just citizens, in the awards. Rina, who has lived in the UK for 26 years, was previously ineligible, because she held a Japanese passport. She said that although she feared industry backlash for speaking up, she’s glad she called out the othering, discriminative nature of this rule. Her debut album will now be eligible for the Mercury and Rising Star prizes.
SAWAYAMA (2020) would be deserving of both. It has incredible range; “XS” cemented her position as Britney Spears reincarnate, “Bad Friend” was inspired by Imogen Heap, “STFU!” proved she’s an expert in Nu-Metal. The lyrical material is surprisingly personal, then flippant, then desperate. She flaunts her obvious disdain for genre boundaries in the whiplash sonic transitions between songs. It’s Rina’s rollercoaster, and we’re just riding it.
Early on in quarantine, MUNA tweeted,
and then approximately six months later I did indeed shave my head, as a fun little thing. I thought about this tweet everyday in between.
MUNA’s last record, Saves the World (2019), is a beautiful exploration of relationships—friendships, romances, and self-love. This band has long suffered reductive labels (“gay HAIM” is my personal favorite), but forges ahead with heavy and nuanced explorations of mental health, sexuality, trauma, and heartbreak. Their music is honest, even confessional, in songs like “Taken” and “Stayaway.” It’s celebratory, but not necessarily happy (like this incredible cover). It’s reflective of the complicated nature of modern queerness and the perilous navigation of punks in the pop landscape.
It is surprising for many of my friends to find out that my favorite album, in the world, ever, of all time is E•MO•TION (2015) by Carly Rae Jepsen. I’ve seen her twice live, once in a tiny Phoenix venue and once at the Grammercy in San Francisco. The second time, in 2019, it was Pride weekend, and CRJ, adopted patron saint of gay men, put on a show to end all shows. Confetti rained on the audience, most of whom were dressed to the nines. It was such an intense expression of joy that I felt like something more than oxygen was filling my lungs, like I was in danger of lifting off the floor and floating away.
This record earned CRJ a cult following and is consistently ranked among the best albums of the decade. It’s infectious, intoxicating, exhilarating. The songwriting and production are masterful; these songs are designed to be addictive. In interviews she says that she picked the fifteen tracks that appear on E•MO•TION from hundreds of songs that she wrote for the album (which is why we were granted EMOTION SIDE B (2016), which is also impossibly perfect).
The lyrical content of this album is so earnest it hurts. A line on “Your Type” gives a nice nod to Radiohead’s “Creep”, which is largely regarded as The Most Earnest Song. “Let’s Get Lost” encapsulates the excitement, tension, the drama of a budding crush like nothing else ever could; the arms of CRJ’s genius rotate on a fulcrum of ardent, sincere vulnerability. On “I Really Like You”, she sings,
It's like everything you say is a sweet revelation
All I wanna do is get into your head
In conclusion, give Carly Rae Jepsen a sword.