From the Archive: 102 the city

St. Vincent, Lorde, and Kings of Convenience

“New York” by St. Vincent is my favorite song of 2017, by far. I still listen to it whenever I’m feeling sad, or when I would like to feel sad. When it came out as a single, I was a very casual St. Vincent fan; I liked “Cheerleader” and thought she occupied the genre niche of jazz-folk. “New York” is plaintive, wistful, simple. It feels like dunking yourself in freezing water, just to feel something. It has subtle electronic elements, but the main attraction is the lyrics:

New York isn't New York without you, love
So far in a few blocks, to be so low
If I call you from First Avenue
Well you're the only motherfucker in the city who can handle me

The chorus grows suddenly—you can hear Annie Clark gasping between lines, like she’s really suffering. And then it comes right back down to that straightforward piano line, back to the lucid pain of lost love.

“New York” ends and Lorde immediately enters with the equally upsetting lyrics of “Writer in the Dark”:

Break the news, you're walking out
To be a good man for someone else
Sorry, I was never good like you

When Melodrama (2017) came out, I drove around with my friend Breann on our first listen. We ended up deep in the desert, near the man-made lake, not speaking between songs except to say that they all exceeded expectations. Pure Heroine (2013) had made waves in my middle school friend group, but I hadn’t explored much past “Royals”, the song of the summer of 2013. I didn’t know Grey Goose or Maybach was. I did know Lorde had incredible hair and was a tortured teen, like me.

Melodrama really rocked my world; it was one of those albums that I systematically made playlists for, until every song was used. I think all the time about the chorus of “Writer in the Dark.” The first time I heard it, it felt personally hurtful. It still does.

I am my mother's child, I'll love you 'til my breathing stops
I'll love you 'til you call the cops on me

“Writer in the Dark” and “Congratulations” are in the same key, G major. The playlist takes a decidedly happier turn with this MGMT song, which is a departure from their previous two synth-pop records. This record comes on the heels of their mainstream success with Oracular Spectacular (2007), which catapulted them into fame and money. Especially on this song, but also throughout the album, the band speaks to their desire for credibility as musicians. It foreshadows their more experimental records, especially Little Dark Age (2013).

Kings of Convenience haven’t made a record since 2009, and I don’t know anything about the band or their supposed breakup. What I do know is that these guys are “Chicago” era Sufjan Stevens lite, and someone in the band plays a mean guitar. They often play Latin-influenced rhythms, and sometimes incorporate strings or keys. I really like Riot on an Empty Street (2004) and Declaration of Dependence (2009).

I made this playlist in June, before my senior year of high school. I had a newfound freedom in driving; my car was my own private space, where I could be alone and listen to music. I never minded getting stuck in traffic, because it meant I had more time to contemplate my latest playlist. Anytime I could blast a song on the road, I was happy. I still love driving for this reason, and I often return to this playlist as a soundtrack. It ends on a hopeful note, with a José González song called “With the Ink of a Ghost”:

She runs from the deepest valley passed the sun
Opening up the wall
Witness to the changing times
It makes sense to all at last