Let’s not kid ourselves: 2018 was a tough year. But out of the pitch-black wave of cultural tar emerged something special – resilience. Without getting all misty-eyed about it, LGBTIQ+ artists around the world got down to what they do best: making compassionate, important art.
That was particularly apparent here in Australia. Old voices reappeared, newly energised, and fresh ones burst into the scene. The year in Aussie music was a glorious mess of politically-savvy bangers, and choruses custom-designed to coat vulnerable, at-risk listeners in iron.
And what better way to celebrate all that excellent queer music than by voting for it in the Hottest 100? To that end, here are six bangers you can honour with one of Aussie music’s most prestigious accolades.
Moaning Lisa – ‘Carrie (I Want A Girl)’
2018 was Moaning Lisa’s year. The Canberra-based four-piece burst onto the scene like a thunderclap, bringing with them a string of excellent, empowered singles, and one of the best Aussie EPs of the year, the slyly titled Do You Know Enough?
To be honest, you should really be voting for as many of the band’s songs as you possibly can. But if you’re only ready to spare them one of your all-important votes, you should spend it on ‘Carrie (I Want A Girl)’, a bristling and beautiful anthem about being utterly unashamed in your wants. (Oh, and sticking it to the man.)
Miss Blanks – ‘This Bitch’
A late contender for one of the songs of the year, Miss Blanks’ ‘This Bitch’, featuring Dugong Jr., is a thrilling riposte to the idea that Aussie hip hop is a waste of time. It’s as energised and important as any of the hip hop coming out of the States – a certified banger that turns everything you know about braggadocio on its head.
Blanks has never sounded more in control, bars flow like LSD-spiked honey, and the whole thing ends in one of the most jazzy, frenetic outros of recent memory. Miss Blanks forever.
Courtney Barnett – ‘Nameless Faceless’
With ‘Nameless Faceless’, the lead single from her excellent album Tell Me How You Really Feel, Courtney Barnett turns on the trolls. But rather than fighting online fire with fire, she examines the pathetic fury of men on the internet with carefully considered empathy.
“I wish that someone could hug you,” Barnett withers in the song’s first verse – and she really means it. In that way, ‘Nameless Faceless’ is a bold invitation to understand your critics without ever excusing them. It’s the sound of a powerful artist at the height of her powers trying to see her digital abusers for what they really are: powerless men, trying desperately to hurt women they well know run laps around them.
Cub Sport – ‘Sometimes’
Like a velvet glove cast in iron, or an overflowing ashtray coated in marzipan, Cub Sport’s ‘Sometimes’ is a very pretty song about very ugly things. It’s about seeing, with startling, almost painful clarity, who you really are – about being forced out of your bubble, and into the light.
But rather than collapse in under the weight of all that heartache, ‘Sometimes’ instead manages to find beauty in it. “Every day’s a revelation,” goes the final refrain. “I’m learning things about myself.” The message is clear: no matter how much it might hurt, self-reflection has a grace all of its own.
HANDSOME – ‘TV Set’
In one of the most baller reinventions of the year, beloved Sydneysider Caitlin Park cast off her layered, indie rock stylings, and traded them in for something newer; more intimate. Now known as HANDSOME, she makes electronica and R’n’B that trembles with feeling; songs about the minutiae of everyday life, written as though she’s singing about the heavens themselves opening up and the world irrevocably changing.
‘TV Set’ is the clearest crystallisation of her new sound. Shot through with longing and with love, it’s the very definition of a creeper; a song that takes time to work its peculiar brand of magic on you. Here’s to six more years of HANDSOME.
Cable Ties – ‘Tell Them Where To Go’
After a long year mired in Australia’s own particular brand of political bullshit, it’s always satisfying to lie back and tell the haters to get properly f*cked, and Cable Ties’ ‘Tell Them Where To Go’ does exactly that. Like a stick of dynamite rolled right into the middle of a boys’ club, it’s a fiery rejection of toxic masculinity in all of its myriad of destructive forms, and a call to arms directed at anyone living outside the arbitrarily defined status quo.
More than that, it’s also an outright banger: a snaking mess of broken glass and ripping choruses. By the time its brief four minutes are up, it feels like a whole new musical language has been written; as though the entire world has been set back in its proper tracks.
Joseph Earp is a music and film critic who writes about horror cinema, bad TV, post-punk and The Muppets. He tweets at @TheUnderlook.
