Pinegrove & Whitney

Pinegrove and Whitney. Whitney and Pinegrove. Whitgrove. Pineney.

All year I've grappled with my two new favorite bands, trying to figure out whose album was better or which group had the best song of 2016... But I honestly don't think I can choose between the two.

I'm going to start with Pinegrove, since their album came out first. I took one spin through Cardinal and I was hooked. Every re-play since has simply expanded my love for them and appreciation of their songs. In fact, I actually got three Pinegrove albums this year; if you haven't heard either last year's treasure trove compilation Everything So Far or this year's live offering, An Audiotree Live Session, stop what you're doing and rush to your nearest iTunes, Amazon or Bandcamp.

So, Cardinal. It's only eight tracks long and clocks in at just 31 minutes, so it most certainly never overstays its welcome. If I were to critique anything about the project, really, it would be that it's not long enough. It kicks off with "Old Friends," a companion track to the finale, "New Friends," which was actually recorded earlier and released as part of Everything So Far. Within the 3.5-minute track, Evan Stephens Hall, Pinegrove's singer, uses the words "labyrinthine" and "solipsistic" - a significant indication that he has a healthy vocabulary.

But you don't need a loquacious lexicon to write the lyrics "I should call my parents when I think of them / Should tell my friends when I love them." Though his advanced lyricism enhances the quality of the songwriting, it's often those simple observations, realizations and relatable anecdotes concerning relationships, friendships and other trials and tribulations of young manhood that rein you in.

From the aforementioned "New Friends," the album concludes with: "What's the worst that could happen? / The end of summer and I'm still in love with her / I said "Forget it."" It's a great summation of the sentiment of the album and it has more than one meaning. Taken on its own, it is a sublime encapsulation of youthful romance: 'Will I be crushed if this love ends when summer is over? I don't care, I need to go with this feeling.' Taken in the context of the song, though, it describes what it's like to care about someone at the expense of virtually everyone else. If summer ends and their love is done, he is going to have to make some new friends because he lost them all focusing just on her.

One more lyric I'd like to point out that exemplifies Hall's internal thought process is from "Aphasia," possibly my favorite song on the record. He sings about the language disorder as it relates to his inability to express himself the way he wants to. He goes back and forth in terms of having the confidence to say what he means, finally ending the song as such: "So to help remind myself / I wrote this little song / One day I won't need your love / One day I won't define myself by the one I'm thinking of / And if one day I won't need it / One day you won't need it." This is possibly the best songwriting I've heard of someone trying to convince themselves they aren't still hopelessly attached to someone, but - again, here's the double meaning - he may simply be referencing the aphasia itself. Taken on its own, the line is perfect for when a romance finally crests. But in the context of the song, he's writing these thoughts down so he can remember that it is possible to express himself accurately since he's done it before - regardless of the topic.

Then you have the music. What is it? Straight up indie rock? Alt-country? Emo? Post-country? Who cares? It's got the bare bones: guitar, bass, drums and vocals. May that have been enough? Possibly. But the slide, pedal steel and banjo combine with the angular guitar lines, tones and textures to give it a special twinkling twang. And it's not always there, either. It pops in at necessary moments and goes away otherwise. Further, Evan's voice fits really well for this kind of music, and could really pass for country if he put it on just a little bit more.

Then there's Whitney. Oh, Whitney. Name-wise, Pinegrove's not great, but Whitney is a pretty bad name for a beloved band. Awkward to say "I love Whitney" (when not referring to a person), just like "I love The National" or "I love Car Seat Headrest." But thankfully, that is the worst part about this project. The 10 tracks on Light Upon the Lake are gorgeous, Sunday morning tunes that seep into your system and stay there, threatening always to leak out at a moment's notice. It is a summer record for a wistful, sunny day. It's a melancholy affair that teases and plays with you, forcing you to crack a smile. It's impossible to get out of your head.

Some criticize the singing of lead singer Julien Ehrlich, saying it sounds Muppet-ish or simply irritating. But I don't find it a problem, and I even think it makes the music more endearing. It's largely a breakup record - so a good amount of the 10 tracks deal with losing a woman - but there is an instrumental and one about the passing of Ehrlich's grandfather as well.

These songs are soulful - sometimes in the sense of the music, but predominantly in that you can hear the boys put all their feelings into the creation of the record. It sounds warm and worn, like it could have been created in 1978 just as easily as it exists in 2016. Max Kakacek's guitar playing is inventive and tight, while the horns add a texture of urgency and melancholy to the tracks.

There are so many standout tracks on the album to me. I love the playfulness of "The Falls" and "No Matter Where We Go," the solemness of "Dave's Song" and the longing of "Golden Days." "No Woman" is an instant classic, yearning and contemplative. "Polly" and "Follow" - the final two songs - might even be the best two songs on the whole thing.

Both of these albums are short enough to be played front-to-back each time and leave you begging for more. Both of these albums spend time lamenting about past relationships, but attack them differently; Whitney looks back with a glimmering eye and Pinegrove has its head on a swivel, wondering what to do next. Both of these albums - and the bands, more precisely - are my favorites of the year.

I think I've watched every live version of all of both of these bands' songs on YouTube... or close to it. If the eight (and just six new) songs on Cardinal and the 10 tracks on Light Upon the Lake can make me feel like this, imagine what longer, better-produced records will do for us lucky listeners in the coming years. Here's hoping we won't have to wait too long to find out.

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3 Songs Not from Pinegrove or Whitney I Loved this Year

1. Bon Iver - "666 ʇ"

Finally coming out of hiding after five years, Bon Iver's 22, A Million finds our hero Justin Vernon in peak blips, bloops and samples mode. But this music is unmistakably his, and all the better for it. The album overall sounds like he's still in the cabin with his band from Bon Iver, Bon Iver and he happened to buy some new equipment. This track might be my favorite on the record, and though it creates a fractured facade, don't be fooled. There are still harmonies, drums, horns and guitars - pushed back in the mix, but still an integral part of the formula. The cover art, lyrics and mysticism surrounding the album can be confusing, but don't let it all distract you: this is simply beautiful, moving music. I've heard about it.

2. Chance The Rapper - "Blessings (Reprise)"

Coloring Book could not be a more apt name for this mixtape, but - like this song itself - it's not as if he's coloring inside the lines. Mixing rap, gospel, R&B, soul and more throughout 14 tracks, Chance truly delivers a masterpiece that forces you to smile; it's the music equivalent of a tickle and I can't believe you can get it for free. Chance is playful but grounded in rapping and singing, and he shows off his instrumental chops throughout the album as well. About halfway through this song, a chorus comes in to sing "Are you ready for your blessing?" for the duration of it, and it is heavenly. It's uplifting and hopeful at a moment in time where you couldn't be faulted for breaking down. Well, are you ready?

3. Kevin Morby - "I Have Been to the Mountain"

Off his solid 2016 release Singing Saw, Morby delivers this mine train of a track in memory of Eric Garner. Lyrically, he seems to be questioning God: "I have been to the mountain / And I have walked on his shore / I have seen / But I can't see him no more." AKA 'Things have been good, but why do bad things keep happening more frequently? I don't know anymore.' But I'm way more interested in the music, specifically the bassline. It propels the whole thing forward, climaxing with the female harmony and mariachi-horn outburst prior to (and later also in) the choruses. Even if you had no idea what the song is about, you'd be hard-pressed to deny the urgency and vitality of this piece of work; plus, it's impossibly catchy. Keep breathing.