It’s old hat at this stage that 2020 has been less than stellar. But that didn’t stop some of our favourite queer and trans artists from making some sweet, sweet jams for us in this hellscape of a year. As we glide ever closer to the end with dreams of 2021 in our heads, let’s take a step back and admire a handful of songs from LGBTQ2S+ people that have lived in my head and gotten us to the end of this year. Here are five tracks that are emblematic of the vibes we all felt over the last 12 months.
The song that will make you miss airports
“Kyoto” – Phoebe Bridgers
It’s been too long since any of us have experienced the thrill of waking up in the waning hours of dusk, catching a cab, spending twice as much for a Starbucks coffee between gates, flying for hours on end and finally landing in a new destination. That feeling of putting your feet onto new streets for the first time, the thrill of seeing a new city when the sun goes down and the streetlights go up is a feeling I miss more than most—and it’s all felt through the neon sidestreets vibe of “Kyoto.” The track, the second single from L.A.-based bisexual sad boi Phoebe Bridgers’ new record, Punisher, is a departure from the more stripped-down affair of her previous work. Instead, “Kyoto” feels like an accidental rock song: The drums live more front and centre, with a chorus that soars on the wings of a horn section. It’s Bridgers’ most upbeat song to date, even if it isn’t exactly a pick-me-up. “Kyoto” makes me miss the unfamiliar outside world, all the parts I’ve yet to visit that feel so far and so fleeting.
The best track for getting over someone without leaving the house
“On My Own” – Shamir
When better than now to spend some quality time discovering what it means to love yourself without the validation of someone who isn’t right for you? There’s no better soundtrack for it than Shamir’s “On My Own.” The song off the Vegas artist’s self-titled album is the dance-pop jam of your dreams. But with lyrics like “I refuse to fucking suffer / Just to feel whole now I know,” Shamir offers a gut-punch of emotion. When none of us are supposed to leave our homes, we need all the energy we can muster to push through—and “On My Own” is a salve.
The song that reminds you there’s always tomorrow
“Ever New” – Beverly Glenn-Copeland
Look, times are tough—there’s no dancing around it. It’s hard to see through all of this, to visualize the other side. “Ever New” creates those moments for me. The track is the perfect distillation of east-coast artist Beverly Glenn-Copeland’s oeuvre: Layers of string and percussive bliss behind a timeless organ line and a voice that will stop you dead in your tracks. It’s a grounding song, tender and gripping. For your worst days, put “Ever New” on, stand at the window with a cup of coffee in your hand and listen to Glenn-Copeland’s tender but powerful voice. There’s something for you out there.
The rock anthem that will get you shreddin’ and yearnin’
“Big Gay Hands” – Partner
If there is a vibe I demand more of, it’s songs of longing and yearning and queer desire that are also absolute shredders. Big guitar rock jams tend to be associated with the kind of desire that is about an object of affection instead of an ask for it—but not when it comes to Partner. “Big Gay Hands” asks for the kind of affection so many of us desire: To have someone, some hottie, take their big gay hands and put them on your body. It takes the classic tale of “person sees object of affection” and makes the story about the want and desire, about the yearning and the intimacy interwoven in it—and it shreds like hell.
The tune that’ll help you reconnect with the world around you
“Debiinaawe Giizhigon” – Melody McKiver
There is power in how music can sound at times both mournful and filled with beauty. In the layers of Melody Mckiver’s “Debiinaawe Giizhigon,” a story is told without uttering a word. In the nearly four-minute track, a cacophony of strings is so densely constructed that, many listens later, I still find secrets hiding within. Like a rolling wave, it brings you back down as gently as it draws you up. The Anishinaabe artist from Sioux Lookout, Ontario, describes the song’s origins as coming from community and generational healing—and that resonates as a listener. It’s a song I play to help my brain recenter, like a personal meditation practice. And in a year of continual uncertainty and stress, something that allows me that grounding is the most important thing of all.
Listen to Niko Stratis’s favourite queer songs of the year in Xtra‘s Queer Best of 2020 playlist below.
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