One for y’all out there who like your dream pop heavy on the side of dream. From the same place we first met Hatchie, Alvvays and Fazerdaze (heaven) come Morgues, a Sydney duo naming themselves after the particular locale wherein you’ll find cold, hard corpses. I can see the reverse appeal here (of the name, not the corpses you nut) in that they sound cloudlike, dewdescent (a new word, you’re welcome) and light on their toes, all the things a corpse usually isn’t. It’s like calling your redheaded mate blue or whatever, I don’t know. This is the type of indie I lap up, recorded with enough vocal filter so as to make you want to throw words like ‘lo-fi’ around despite them being categorically inaccurate in describing the record. Bonus points applied because this press shot was taken just outside my work, shoutout Jumbo Thai, shoutout Chinese Noodle House. More from Morgues in 2021 thanks cheers.

The audacity! Look at this fella, writing about his twenty favourite songs of the year 2020 when he’s done a total of fourteen writeups on the blog across the twelve months. Embarassing, I know. My marketing team told me that I should consider making this a top 10 but until the board manages to completely buy out my shares, I’m going to drive this son of a bitch into the ground, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. Also imagine not getting behind the phrasing of 20 in 2020? I oughta fire the lot of them. It had to be twenty in the end because there were more songs that deserved to be eulogised at the close of the year that simply couldn’t fit in into 10.

But I’m not giving you the objective best songs of 2020. I would never. Instead, these are those records that received an even higher tier approval, certified hot by the Sound Doctrine panel of excellence.  All tracks were considered against a rigourous rubrik of power, elegance and g’damn creativity and all were found full. We’re going to count this down to tmy very favourite songs on the year, but the gap between #1 and #25 really isn’t that big, so don’t deep the numbering system too hard. On that tip, even the order deserves some scepticism because as I look at the insinuations I’m making about which songs are better than which other songs, I’m tempted to call myself out for the sheer shithousery of some of these decisions. One thing we can all agree on however, is that I rarely miss. So living in that understanding, proceed and bask in the magic.

From the people that brought you ‘Music to Egg An Elected Official To’ and the men’s scent ‘Eau De J’Anglewave’, it’s Sound Doctrine’s 20 Best Songs Of 2020.

Jazz NOBODI
Tall Poppy

Another quick-draw mcgraw who put their first song on the internet this year and found themselves in a Sound Doctrine best of the year list, it’s Jazz NOBODI. One thing I’ll mention though, is that while this is his debut release under JN, he’s one of the three big beasts that makeup polynesian hip-hop crew Planet Vegeta. It’s been a big year for the trio but also their side projects with the advent of Jazz Nobodi, SVNO and LKGD. This is my personal favourite of the three because it’s seemingly the most straight down the line, thickened with positivity bars about taking control and ownership of ones own talent, a seemingly considerable well for Jazz NOBODI to draw from.

Radio Free Alice 
Square

There’s very little online about this Sydney four piece save for the fact that they’re eighteen year olds and a Sydney four piece. Also they’ve each been alive for eighteen years and there are four of them. Those four teenagers live in Sydney. They’ve presumably enjoyed eighteen birthday parties and attended schools. Now they’re in a band. That band has four members and it’s called Radio Free Alice. For some reason they’ve opted to channel 80s UK pop rock but against all the odds, I’m glad they did. Ever since Morrisey decided to do whatever he could to taint The Smiths’ legacy we’ve been left with a canonical gap in that particular era of popular music and thus Radio Free Alice have arrived, willing to assume their place. Sure the era aesthetic is the first thing you’ll notice about this record but it’s worth acknowledging the song itself, a record with verses as memorable as the chorus. So here we are then, the umteenth best Australian record of the year, courtesy of Radio Free Alice.

R U N
For You

The moment I heard the opening blastbeats of Mortal Treason’s Dig Your Own Grave ring out in like, I don’t know, 2007 or whatever, it was love at first listen. The savagery and aggression of that record had me in some kind of way, but it also lacked plenty of the cliched tropes that had begun to dominate metalcore at the time from overblown breakdown designed for mosh short blokes to airguitar invoking trilled bits. That wasn’t their game and nor is it R U N’s. Lochlan and Mike have both had their own respective decades in heavy music and they’ve come out wiser, sharper and more visceral for their experience. I almost went with another of their tracks ‘Will Never’ which I’ve had a whole lot of this year but ‘For You’ had the edge in terms of creativity and authenticity within their field. If you like your metalcore light on the ‘core’ and subtle in the way it navigates classic metal tropes, then you’re gonna love R U N.

Big Words
Sink or Swim

Melbourne boys who came through with one of the best radio ready singles of the year but unfortunately, while the record was ready for the radio, the radio wasn’t ready for the record. This one’s a bit of a hit, something Chris Breaux himself would’ve been proud to have released. They haven’t yet found the industry frills to puff up the Big Words brand for industry bigwigs and festival bookers but if they can replicate this energy on another record in 2021, they’ll be stepping in the right direction for a breakout year. The chorus, THE CHORUS… goodness me, it’s a tasty beverage.

Noli Fig
Ethical Shoes

It seems like the only place Noli was written about in 2020 was right here on Sound Doctrine (lateral flex, no pride in that) so it couldn’t be argued that his cultural impact on a national or even a civic level has been anything notable. Sydney based and inexplicably out of line with the defining fields of the area in 2020 (drill, hip-hop, pop and a bit of melodic indie etc etc), Noli appears to have none of the trappings of a careerist musician. He’s on a couple of platforms, he’s not pushing for that social heat and he wears one of those beanies with the tassles, all telltale signs that he’s not ‘playing the game’. It’s breathy indie, faintly vocalised in a consistent key with some relatively lo-fi drums and pretty guitar parts. In the end, it really comes down to that voice, haunted and haunting somehow sounding high and deep at the same time? Am I allowed to say that? Sorry, just hearing back from my tech staff, that is in fact, objectively wrong so I’m going to have to retract that. Thanks anyway, enjoy this song.

Jesswar
Venom

What to say about pasifika titan Jesswar that hasn’t already been said? She’s laced with more flavour than [find a good simile for this song. Under no circumstances are you to leave this blank] and she’s been deploying that rich tone across certified supremers such as Heater last year and now Venom in 2020. It’s clear that she’s putting a lot of eggs in this basket because the video alongside the single was fully realized in much the same way the record is. She’s one of Australian hip-hops great hopes, a purveyor of hard bars, jaunty punchlines and an aggressively cool persona that oozes icey ambition. While drill simmered to the boil in 2020, Jesswar stayed the course and reaped the rewards with Venom.

Kwame
Schleep

Amid the canon of releases under the Kwame project, Rich Amevor gave us this barely two minute DaBaby-esque bumper. The great irony of this record is that he whipped it up from nothing to finished in a matter of minutes, the song a casual exposition of his capacity to make a thumper like this ‘in my sleep’. It is, as so many of his songs are, a subtle shot fired at the lack of inspiration seen among some of his contemporaries but done with more on the nose swagger than he’s allowed himself on any of his other 2020 output. He’s an undoubtedly clever artist who’s angling around sample based hip-hop, sung choruses and big rhapsodic records but this was him at his simplest, making dumb, great hip-hop that hits real basic but hits right. This is the sort of the record that you can blow up the club to, ruin your speakers to and drop right in the deepest moments of your DJ set. King Kwame.

Nick Ward
I Want To Be Myself Or Nothing At All

One of the many great travesties of this disgraceful list is that it includes just one song from Nick Ward. He could quite reasonably have had three in this list, which speaks to his strike rate since he released three songs. In the end, I’ve opted for ‘I Want To Be Myself Or Nothing At All’ because of the three, it’s the most vulnerable and pained, the one where he poured himself out like spilled oil, all pretty colours atop a body of water. He’s a DIY king from the recordings to the music videos (go watch them for the full experience, I promise) and watching him rise this year has been a privilege. His is a palette that makes use of emotive folk elements, particularly in the way he likes to layer vocals in a chorus, but also hints of hip-hop and pop songs that ensure he’s making so much more than the indie-folk we cast aside in 2014

Behind You
More Like Flesh

One time in year 11 when we were at the Warringah Aquatic Center my friend Emile linked up three megaphones using swimming caps and ductape so that when sound entered one end it reverberated in a manic, endless loop, like the experience of standing in an elevator with opposing mirrors that go on for an eternity, except heaps more annoying. Behind Me have that same energy with ‘More Like Flesh’, a record that starts with more than its fair share of reverb but then goes on the slather even more on across the progressing record until even Emile himself would simply have to give credit. To be extremely clear, this song is really good. Despite the songs swelling circumference, the band are white knuckled on the reins, never letting it become chaotic or out of control. It’s tight, even in the climactic final minute which you truly do need to make sure you stay for. I’d not heard of this band prior to 2020 but now I’m ready for more, and doubly so for the live show.

Bec Sykes
Edithvale

When Bec Sykes split from her boyfriend, she thought back through all the time they’d spent in his car (probably a 2013 VW Golf though I have no evidence of this) driving through the suburbs, particularly to Edithvale. It was a significant setting that was the context for large parts of their relationship. In the aftermath of that relationship, the car was stolen (Bec insists she’s not the guilty party, hard to believe but I’ve said my piece and you can cast your own judgement). Stolen, torched and left a blackened skeleton, it was strangely symbolic of their deteriorated connection. Bec wrote a song about it and Tom Iansek produced it. This is that song. It’s beautiful.

Agung Mango
Yo El Rey

How mad am I at Mango for dropping just two songs this year? Extremely. Depriving the country of the artist who could be one of the singular talents in local Australian hip-hop is an offense punishable by upto eleven years in prison so if he doesn’t keep an extremely high profile to make up for it in 2021, then he better plan to keep an extremely low one or lawyer up. - this is what I’d written about Agung Mango’s Little Bum before he dropped Yo El Rey. I refuse to delete it because Gung needs to know that this sort of sparsity isn’t RIGHT. Sure, he dropped a nine track EP in the time since I wrote this but guy needs to keep these hits coming because I’ve got an appetite for stone fruits and there’s only one way to sort it. ‘Yo El Rey’ features more fast and suitably arrogant bars from one of the few antipodean rappers deserving of his ego while it’s the production from Nikodimos that only sharpens Gung’s aggression through its gentler curves. I’m hearing a few rumours about the collabs that Mango has in the works for 2020 but for the moment, let’s take the time to enjoy what we got. One hell of a record from a dude that many are referring to as “very good”.

Cheekbone
Thorns (feat. Lonelyspeck)

This guy has more channels than a premium cable tv package and he uses them to crush you in much the same way (albeit less financially, more metaphysically). I’ve watched him break his sessions down and they’re as chaotic and layered as you’d expect for an artist releasing songs of this girth. It’s electronic music, channeled through a light nu-metal filter with an atomic mass sufficient to suck everything around it into orbit. We’ve all become satellites to this one song. It’s crushing, seismic, aggressive, corrosive, beautiful and layered across it is Sione Teumohenga aka Lonelyspeck. That should be all the cosign you need to know that this Iranian-Canadian living in Far North Queensland is an artist oughta to be paying attention to.

Cookii
Little

There was a very slim window when the idea of an anonymous artist was a charming prospect. That window has slammed shut. Cookii however, anonymous yet left stranded on the outside of that window, is forgiven. “Tommy, my guy, is there no justice in the world? Forgiveness is a merit but one must hold others accountable to the standards of our times!”
Allan, great point. Totally see where you’re coming from. You’ve thought before you spoke and I respect that but we’re turning the other cheek because Cookii’s earned a little clemency through this self-titled mixtape of hers. It’s the vessel for this song ‘Little’ and it’s a masterstroke of Gecs / Dylan Brady-like production and Taylor strength melodies wrapped around the sweetest notion, “Don’t treat me little”. Cute pop done cute. The track is one of the least candy-circuited of those on the album but still showcases some of the modern production that was probably done by a well respected producer from melbourne, maybe, probably, I couldn’t possibly comment on that.

Eunuchs
How To Make A Eunuch

Straight up, this is a song about castration. Not sure how you feel about that or about castration generally, but I thought it was important to clear the air early on. Sorry, I’ll stop you there, that was a retorical question and I’m a touch taken aback by the way you seem to be a big proponent of gelding? But look, the song is extremely visceral, some would say a little too visceral as even a cursory glance through the lyrics will show you, but that’s its greatest strength. It unnerved the absolute shit outta me and not many songs can do that, though to its advantage they did make use of every instrument known to man in its making. It’s telling that even the most crushing deathcore records with gutteral vocals and pigsqueels don’t sound quite as chaotic and otherworldly as this one-stroke from Eunuchs.

JK-47
Outta Time (1 Take)

I’ll level with you here, this one made me cry. This was a shakedown with Jacob sending you to rockbottom by mid track with chords and shame, before he uses those same chords to reverse effect in the second half to galvanize you with hope. It’s hope in Jacob himself, that a man with this talent and ambition and self-belief can pull himself up from a threshing floor of disadvantage and still shine brighter than a spilling sun. His LP Made For This is a showcase of supreme lyricism and inimitable flow and the secret joy of it is that it doesn’t even feel like he’s come close to fulfilling his potential. He didn’t lean on studio tricks, varnished production or big hooks to deliver this record, just rough-shod talent. While there are other records from the album that’ll show you just how hard, fast and sharp his flow can be, this is the one where he cuts to the emotional quick and if you let these words find their target, you’re gonna feel this one too. This dude’s unstoppable.

Bluey
Everybody Hates Me In My Dreams

Bluey was a relative newcomer in 2019, releasing an EP of loveable semi-acoustic lo-fi efforts that were simple, sweet and earnest. They’re the sort of songs that you can imagine arriving as largely acoustic records before they were produced by good guy Tram Cops. Such was the journey for ‘Everybody Hates Me In My Dreams’, a record that doesn’t sound a million miles from Tram Cops himself thanks to the obvious fingerprints he left upon it. Real name Lachie Gilmour, main band IV League, Bluey’s songwriting is is pensive and bemused, sad and thoughtful. He repeats the track title over and over but never mopily, always as if it’s a wry realisation he’s half smiling upon, like a memory only half that he’s having a hard time fully recognizing. Truly beautiful and I am charmed.

Ball Park Music
Cherub

I told a friend recently that I’d planned to include this song in my ‘best of’ list and he suggested that it was akin to Pitchfork starting to include pop music in their end of year content in 2008 or whatever. The suggestion is that this is the sort of comfy-for-everyone artist that won’t have any haters because they don’t mess with the program. And that’s probably true, but one thing that can’t be put past them is that they can write the hell out of a song that cuts direct to the most sentimental ventricle.
Did I miss the best years of Ball Park Music? That’s a dumb question and you should be ashamed of yourself for asking it. But yes, sure. They became triple j and festival favourites over a decade or so while I was watching Wish For Wings at the Gosford PCYC but ‘Exactly How You Are’ turned that all round for me the year before last. Cherub though… it’s a singular work of emotion. I feel so much every time I hear it. It’s the combination of The Shins, The Middle East and a climactic conclusion (so again, the Middle East I ‘spose) that drives this one into my heart like a stake to careless vampire. You best believe there’s no coming back from it, I got emotions now (also I am allergic to sunlight and silver, it’s very unhelpful). So yes, while I know it’s passé, it’s common, it’s not the deep cut pick that sound doc has made a history of including, if this track didn’t make the list then I’d be lying to myself.

 

Tkay Maidza
Shook

When most other artists ran for cover in 2020, Tkay looked down the barrel of the storm and marched forward, faster and fiercer than she ever has before. Riding the lightning of a new overseas record deal she delivered the mixtape of her career that gifted this guy several options to pick from for my this list. Arguably You Sad might have been the one, I don’t know… but Shook blew the fillings right out of my mouth, Shook gave me an aneurism that I’ve not yet fully recovered from, Shook made my guts go all soft and useless. I had indigestion for 8 straight days, it was baaaaad. I’m good now but Shook never wore off, living in that bit of my brain the retains both monstrous hooks and bouncy bars. Tkay levelled up in a visceral way in 2020 and we were all lucky to be present when she did.

 

Genesis Owusu
I Don’t Need You

I don’t have any hesitation in declaring I Don’t Need You as the best song of Kofi’s career. He’s carved out a lane for himself these past two years in particular, pivoting from harder bars to swaggy grooves. He’s become a proper frontman, heading up a band that includes the likes of Touch Sensitive, Kirin J and Jonti and comfortably retaining the spotlight throughout. The man’s attention to aesthetic, both visual and sonic, has seen him ascend the some critical pedastals this past year and if you’re talking about the vanguard of creative musicians without his name on your lips then prepare for a reckoning. ‘I Don’t Need’ you is his strongest chorus to date but it stands testament to his capacity to amalgamate sounds, synchronizing those elements of soul, funk, pop and hip-hop that we’ve heard on earlier records into something that feels deeply creative and totally accessible.

Pookie
Tuesday

Is this song better than Shook, Cherub and I Don’t Need You? Honestly, it might not be… who can number down a list like this [most writers] but the audacity and boldness that Pookie demonstrated coming out with a hit this hard on her DEBUT SONG is worthy of all praise. She drips confidence across a vocal that sounds the product of a hip-hop veteran, breathy and seductive, fierce and technical. She says it best “Pookie finna cause extiction, Pookie finna put a little stutter in your diction, Pookie finna turn all your reality to fiction”. She did all though – Stuttering, unreal and deceased, that’s me post-Pookie. While she may have kept us waiting in the moments since she garnished us with Tuesday, I’m quietly hopeful that she’ll extend upon this heat with more smoke.

What’s it all about? Probably just smoking a whole bunch of weed and enjoying some alcohol or whatever, isn’t it. And that my friends, is the true spirit of Adelaide, poured out by our new buds Anti.Dreams on this record ‘I Don’t Have Much Time Left’. You know what I’ve always loved about prog rock? The idea that the songs are ‘progressive’. That the longer a song goes on, it progresses, moves forward, or gets better whereas – and can we be real here? – the reality is that prog rock records actually become worse the longer they continue. That’s not to say that they literally deteriorate, it’s just that you probably didn’t wanna be listening to prog rock when you started so by the second half of the record the experience is usually even worse. Of course, this is a long winded way of me suggesting that this IS a song that deteriorates or devolves by design. The duo start slurring their words, pitch shifting their vocals into uncomfortable areas and warping the production upto the point where, in line with the video, the music itself sounds kinda drunk as hell. The final nail’s driven in around 2:45 when it flips into a Travis like cadence with simmering beeps and blips to the production and old mate raps about driving a tesla into the ocean (a goal for all of us to aspire to). The two of them are Albert (probably) and Richy (maybe). Get em on yr radar.

Might just write some bad words about this new single from jamesjamesjames, Sydney DJ/producer to the stars and generally glamorous house wizard. They’ve recently put forth a salty split release with Brisbane king Skin on Skin, wherein they’ve each dropped an original and a remix of each other’s original. I want you to please hear that of jamesjamesjames, called J’adore, an appellation very much in line with jjj’s glam-affluent energy. They say their music is “best played loud when you’re on the plastic surgery table having your second nose job, on your way to a Paris Hilton meet & greet, or at a 5am kick ons”. We simply must respect the specificity.

And despite some of the lo-fi-lite leanings froom this record and their history of making house with a little grain to it (see previous masterstroke ‘dickalicious cumdown beat‘) this new one has me feeling expensive. One time I went and saw 12 minutes of a David Guetta set at an arena and for my efforts got myself one of those wristbands that lights up when our Lord and God David willed it. This one has me feeling like I did for those twelve minutes, at the mercy of a micro-LED handcuff, tethered to his Parisian hits. Full of life and cash. Somehow, jamesjamesjames knows how to make you feel these chords above every jittering beat, like a clubbier Tourist, Tycho or Bonobo. Good gear. Fun fact, the songs title ‘J’adore’ directly translates from French to English as ‘Scorpion King 2: Rise of a Warrior on Bluray’ (incidentally David Guetta’s favourite film and format).