The first song by the K-pop superstars recorded fully in English is, of course, brilliant marketing. But if the song didn't pop with personality nor possess such an irresistible candy-coated hook, we wouldn't be talking about it as one of the best of the year.
Originally released in 2017, the song made a modest showing on the rock charts before fading into the abyss. But thanks to pandemic-shuttered TikTok-ing teens, the anthem with an urgent pulse and message of longing for closeness reignited the Liverpool export's profile.
The former rapper found his niche with a detour that sounds as if Green Day and The Killers rumbled in an alley. The faux British accent is a bit much, but that isn't enough to negate the compact joy of this earworm.
The fizziest song Gwen Stefani and Dallas Austin never made.
With an opening blast of guitar and Springsteen's grated voice reminding us with unfettered boldness on the chorus,"I'm alive," this is a stack of E Street Band comfort and nostalgia in a year when it was needed most. "Count the band in and then kick into overdrive...by the end of the set, we leave no one alive" – the Springsteen creed in action.
Killer Mike and El-P spout penetrating lyrics about class divisions and capitalism while the spongy beat propels their sardonic words. And isn't it time a current song name-dropped Ol' Dirty Bastard and Jeru the Damaja?
Ethereal vocals, a gently chugging backbeat and lyrics that veer from graceful to whimsical ("Life was a willow and it bent right to your whim...I come back stronger than a 1990s trend"), the first single from Swift's new Evermore album is a wink and a nod to how much she's learned from the songwriting of Carly Simon and Joni Mitchell.
Many of the songs on the band's 2020 album overreached in earnestness, but with this circular ballad, Jon Bon Jovi's storytelling instincts are incisive and his words tenderhearted. All of it is couched in a beautifully gauzy melody and the Layla-ish guitar solo tacked on at the end punctuates the song with a wistful coda.
Despite being released during a polarizing political year in which gaslighting was a frequently bandied term, the banjo-flecked song is actually a not-really-veiled account of the dissolution of singer Natalie Maines' marriage. The girls' always-sublime harmonies are a splendid contrast to the scathing kiss-off ("Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat...save your tired stories for your new someone else").
Dripping with attitude and stocked with a simple, head-nodding beat, the first No.1 hit for the feisty Houston hip-hop personality with the nimble flow is a club anthem for the ages. She'll forever be that... well, you know.
Shimmering like a disco ball in Studio 57, this sleek, galloping production showcases not only Cyrus' affection for classic rock (its hook is so similar to Stevie Nicks' Edge Of Seventeen that she invited the Fleetwood Mac goddess to join her on a remake), but also Cyrus' own astute pop instincts and muscular voice.
Written before father Eddie's devastating death in October, the younger Van Halen offers a paean to loss that is universally relatable. With heartfelt vocals, a layered chorus and stinging guitar, Wolfgang's initial public outing ensures not only is his own career bright, but Dad is looking down with one of those sideways grins. – The Atlanta Journal-Constitution (Atlanta, Ga.)/Tribune News Service