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Year In ReView: Our 30 favorite songs of 2017

At several points throughout 2017, a simple question was asked: What are you listening to? Whether we were fielding it or asking it, the reply was often specific to a singular song. With all due respect to the time-honored album and EP -- and from Slowdive's self-titled to Kendrick's DAMN. to Quiet Giant's You're in Heaven, there were quite a few of note -- this year was all about the song. Songs of passion, songs of empowerment, songs of not giving a damn and songs of giving every last damn imaginable soundtracked a year that tested the will of the people. As Daniel Brockman notes in his intense Year in Pop essay for Vanyaland, pop music is headed down a dangerous path; but it's also merging into one giant streamable playlist, where the underground battles for clicks and listens with Top 40, and this year's Vanyaland year-end recap -- a mere selection of our staff's favorites, and by no means a silly declaration of the absolute "best" -- reflects that. Our staff was asked to come up with their faves, and these are the responses, presented alphabetically. The lead entry, via Toronto's Alvvays, feels like an appropriate jump-off, and the featured image of the up top was shot by the late, great Eddy Leiva, from their October show at The Paradise.

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Sorority Noise, “No Halo”

Songs about mourning are written and released every year, but the aftershocks of Cameron Boucher’s personal tragedy resonated on a macrocosmic level in 2017. Of course the death of a close friend feels differently than the loss of certainty that your government isn’t proactively hostile to your prosperity and happiness. But the two circles surely darken a fraction of each other on a venn diagram of misery and existential panic. Boucher revealed to Stereogum that he penned “No Halo” following a cognitive slip he experienced a year after touring obligations forced him to miss a buddy’s funeral. Between its relative brevity, melancholic opening melody, and startling chorus, the track probably conveys the realization that the person you’re waiting to meet up with no longer exists with the greatest degree of precision a piece of music possibly could. Does it pack a wallop? You bet it does.

— Barry Thompson

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