Sooo... this is a slightly insanely long playlist, especially coming off the back of five hours of listening in my other 2017 posts. It's around twelve hours of music – 183 songs – that didn't make it onto my best of 2017 playlists. It came about because, when I was trying to catch up on some releases I might have missed during the year, I found so very, very much music that appealed to me, and it was overwhelming to even figure out where to begin listening. I started this playlist to keep stuff I wanted to get back to, and as somewhere to put songs I reluctantly cut from my main playlists when they were getting too long. So this is essentially a playlist of honourable mentions, as well as songs I've really enjoyed from albums I haven't had time to fully listen to. 

In Part One, I shared songs from my most-loved albums of last year. Part Two features highlights from my favourite singles and EPs released in 2017. Enjoy! 

Okay, so it's nearly March, which probably makes this the world's most untimely 'Best of 2017' list! First I'll get to the music, but there's a personal note at the bottom of this post explaining why I'm sometimes much later with posts than I'd like, and why I think they're still worth doing anyway.

Wow, I was really blown away by the musical offerings from last year! There's some truly spectacular music being made by incredibly creative artists who are dedicated to their craft. and to making brilliant music for the sake of it. Though it's easier than ever to find music from all over the world to suit your particular tastes, I'm pretty convinced there's also just more and more amazing music being produced. This playlist features a song from each of my favourite 2017 albums. It's pretty long, with fifty-five tracks, coming in at around three hours and forty minutes of listening. I heard so much great stuff, this was as much as I could narrow it down! And you'll notice this is only Part One.... 

I'm excited to share my second mix for Christmas this year, which features seasonal tunes from international female pop singers of the 1960s. This was harder to put together than I thought! Being a big fan of both sixties girl pop from around the world and Christmas music, I figured this would be a piece of cake. But I soon realised I only had songs that fit the bill from a limited number of countries. Branching out more broadly was quite a fun adventure, and I really adore some of the songs on this mix that are new to me, like the stunning tracks from Monna Bell and Maria Dolores Pradera. I know some Rita Pavone but her 'White Christmas' cover, 'Bianco natale', had escaped me, and it's just gorgeous. It was also interesting to get a sense of which places went for Christmas pop singles, and which didn't. Italy, for example, had a booming young beat music scene but I found very little in the way of yuletide pop tunes. Most of the Italian stuff I found was very traditional, even, surprisingly, from some rock bands. Perhaps in some more religious countries, too contemporary an approach to Christmas songs was deemed too irreverant. I lucked out with some countries altogether – some places did not produce enough girl pop for their singers to also dabble in Christmas singles, others I don't really know where to begin exploring. If you know of any sixties holiday songs from female pop singers from countries I'm missing here, I'd love to hear your recommendatons. 

The gorgeous illustration of Sylvie Vartan accompanying the mix is by the very talented Olivier C. You can check out and support his amazing work here.

The name of this mix was inspired by the delightful titles of Japanese retro comps like Japanese Pop Cuties in Swingin' 60s or Japanese Pop Christmas In Dreamy '60s. I'm not intending to make fun of Japanglish at all; in fact, I found the syntax (or my attempt at it, which lacks the Japanglish flair) made more sense to me in trying to convey what this mix was about than conventional English structure would allow. 

Who needs the same old sappy Christmas tunes when there's a whole world of weird and wonderful festive music to explore? I love digging into the many fascinating, original takes on holiday music that countless artists have recorded over the years. And sometimes, the more bizarre, the better. My first Christmas mix this year is a collection of some of the most enjoyably unconventional seasonal tunes that I've come across. Some are simply delightfully eccentric, while others get genuinely weird... and even a little creepy. If you need an antidote to the cliches and suffocating sentimentality that can be hard to escape at this time of year, hopefully you'll enjoy this mix of freakish festive goodness!

While flipping through my collection of vintage French magazines the other day, I came across an interesting little segment in the October 1966 issue of Salut les copains, France's enormously popular and influential youth music magazine that launched in 1962 to complement the radio show of the same name. It features Françoise Hardy sharing her ten current favourite songs, as part of a running segment where popular music stars were asked to create their own 'hit parade'.

Hardy's tastes encompassed a variety of popular genres of the time, from the easy listening of Frank Sinatra and Petula Clark to the garage rock of Syndicate of Sound and The Troggs, whose 'Wild Thing' she calls "breathtaking". Most of the picks here are from the USA and UK, as was more fashionable by that time than homegrown music. Hardy, though, was no bandwagon jumper and had long been a fan of Anglo-American sounds. She often had the chance to hear new British music when she ducked across the channel to record an album or play some venues, and she mentions buying Syndicate of Sound's 'Little Girl' in London and seeing Dusty Springfield perform 'Goin' Back' on Ready Steady Go! A couple of her fellow Gallic singer-songwriters are represented here in Michel Polnareff ("She could have cited any other of Michel's songs, she loves them all equally"), and Antoine, who had debuted nearly a year earlier and transformed the local scene.

I've playlisted her choices so you can immerse yourself in what the wonderful Ms Hardy was grooving to 50 years ago:

It's my first post of the new year and, though late to the game, I wanted to share my favourite music from last year. 2016 was a notoriously terrible year (not that this year is exactly peachy so far!), but thankfully the same can't be said of the music that came out last year. It was, to quote Lisa Simpson's insensitive future fiancé, like a flower that grew out of a pot of dirt. I feel spoiled by the amount and variety of quality music I've been enjoying from last year's offerings. There are the gorgeous vintage European pop sounds of The Yearning and Lia Pamina, the visionary retrofuturism of Adrian Younge, the moving, classic songwriting of Big Smoke, the raw garage rock of The Mystery Lights, some fresh takes on dream pop, and many outings in psychedelic-influenced, experimental pop. Some of these albums have quickly become all-time favourites, not just favourites of the year. Below is a playlist of songs from my most-loved releases of 2016, including albums, singles and EPs, in no particular order. A list of my top eleven albums (I could not narrow it down to ten!) of the year – again, in no specific order – follows it.

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If you prefer Spotify, listen here. Update: By request, now also on Deezer (but missing the Samara Lubelski song).

Tracklist:

Like so many, I am angry, confounded, saddened by the state of the world. 2016 just keeps kicking us in the arse. I won't spill any trite words about the power of music in troubled times. I don't even think making ourselves feel better is entirely the point. I'm wary of self-tranquilising to the point of becoming numbed or complacent; we need that sense of horror and anger to foster meaningful action. Anger, I think, is not something to be afraid of if it is not hateful or violent or self-destructive. That said, I'm aware good people need to draw strength from where they can – to be inspired, to experience catharsis, to feel soothed, to preserve their mental health – in order to be effective, to go on, to heal. And that's where music can come in. What I like to turn to runs the gamut from angry and cynical, to inspiring and thought-provoking, to calming and reassuring. Here are a few songs I thought I'd share.

Jarvis Cocker - Running The World

Starting at the angry, cynical end of things, Jarvis Cocker's blunt song 'Running The World' from 2006 pulled no punches in describing exactly who has the power in the world, and is unfortunately truer than ever. The song is an incisive, darkly funny critique of capitalism and politics.

Barry McGuire's classic scathing protest song, 'Eve Of Destruction', perfectly captured the countercultural mood of its day. Written by nineteen-year-old P.F. Sloan, it was a number one hit for McGuire in 1965, and it's hard to imagine anyone spitting out these lyrics of disgust and frustration better than he does in his blistering growl. Many of the lyrics are, obviously, specific to political circumstances of the time, but much of it still resonates and could apply as readily today. Particularly potent is McGuire's delivery of the line about religious hypocrisy: "Hate your next-door neighbour / but don't forget to say grace." Also, message aside, I am a fan of the fact the word 'coagulating' is incorporated into a rhyme.

It's interesting when a work of art's message feels relevant again and you find its meaning becomes clearer than before. I guess I always saw this as a somewhat fatalistic song about impending doom in an age of atomic fear, but now it's hitting me as a rebuke against complacency, against refusing to see potential catastrophe, and against the normalisation of things that should rightly invoke alarm. Sloan saw it as "a love song to and for humanity" and "a prayer" and hoped it would help "open a dialogue", but instead he and McGuire were ousted from the music industry.

"This is a cold war, you better know what you're fighting for" sings Janelle Monáe so powerfully on 'Cold War', from her 2010 Afrofuturist pop masterpiece, The ArchAndroid. The line 'I was made to believe there was something wrong with me' always chokes me up, and now more than ever, too many are afraid of their children growing up to feel like this. Monáe has said of this and other songs of hers: "I try to create songs that are uplifting because this world can drive you insane". 'Cold War', though it faces a sense of pain and injustice head-on, is not a bitter resignation; it ultimately uplifts:

You might not expect to find a decent music guide in a 70s teen girl magazine, but that's exactly what I came across in the November 1974 issue of an American publication called The New Ingenue. In "50 Albums You Can't Live Without", the magazine does not condescend to its young female demographic with the usual list of tight-jeaned teenybopper pin-ups, but instead presents a serious guide for fledgling collectors.  It was written by Ed Naha, at the time a music journalist who wrote for esteeemed publications like The Village Voice and Rolling Stone, and who later became a science fiction and fantasy author and screenwriter. 

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The article is not only an interesting snapshot of its era, providing a glimpse into critical tastes as well as the culture of record collecting at the time, it still works as a great starting point for anyone wanting to explore 60s to 70s rock. The list covers a good range of styles, from rhythm and blues to "lofty rock", though for my tastes, it's weighted a little heavily toward hard rock – not surprising given when this was written. While it's filled with staple classic albums like Dark Side Of The Moon and Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, it also has a few more obscure choices that have since fallen off the critical radar. Then there is something like Love's Forever Changes, which was not a success when released, but whose reputation saw it rise to become a cult classic over time. Here we see it beginning to achieve this status, as well as the insight that it "attracted a lot of praise and condemnation" at the time of its release.

The New Ingenue seems to have been trying to do something more progressive and feminist with the medium of the teen girl magazine. Among the usual makeup ads and fashion tips, there are some atypical articles that show they expected intelligence from their audience, like a feature on the juvenile detention system or a technical guide to hi-fi. A subscription ad boasts the magazine has a broad range of content, with "columns on crafts, ecology action and all the occult" (all of it!). Describing their target reader, it says "she isn't under anybody's thumb and she's not up on anyone's pedestal". I bought several issues from the collection of the lovely Dixie Laite, who described The New Ingenue as "sort of a precursor to Sassy in terms of content, attitude and down-to-earthiness."

As part of this approach, the magazine had a particular interest in bringing quality music journalism to young women. I found an advertisement in a December 1974 issue of Billboard magazine which emphasised The New Ingenue's commitment to musical content. It proudly proclaims the magazine's line-up of respected critics, that its music column is "not a monthly gossip column" and that it features "the first and only chart designed by and for the young American woman".  

I've made a Spotify playlist featuring one song from each album in the list: