[#60-41] The 60 Best Underrated Songs of the Past 6 Years (3000 Posts)

This song in my personal love letter to you. Yes, you. Reading this right now and waiting to disagree with something on this list.

My go-to jam for cruising around the space under the couch in my stuffed convertable plush car. East dust bunnies!

You know when you are at a drum circle on a mouse-only beach and then someone’s morse code machine is on the fritz and then aliens come down as beam you all into space and you have to karate them? Yeah, this song.

Heartbreak, man. It never gets any easier. But this song? It never gets any worse. Never not one bit. Just crank it and scream out those broken hearted demons. Let ’em go. You don’t need ’em.

Its time we coined a new genre called “hefty-indie-space-swagger”. Probably throw a “pop” at the end there for good measure.

When you are 32 and drugs have never had much appeal and alcohol just makes you tired, you can just listen to this song full blast and its like a sugar high with no crash. I mean, thats what I hear…

You know that spooky feeling on hungover Sunday’s where you question your life and it’s endless string of moronic decisions? This song is like that only not depressing.

Remember, that for every heartbreak, there was a time of pure butterflies-in-springtime joy that preceeded it. This jam is the fluttering of those glistening featherlight wings.

Becuase sometimes pasty English kids have mad flow but are wise enough to know hip hop isn’t their thing. Thats how we get brilliant off kilter indie jam freak outs like this.

Much like an actual red light district, this jam is best enjoyed without the harsh glare of sunlight. It speaks to the shadows and the somber (yet groovy!) memories that go along with them.

Now I love some Kanye, but I think the guy would be a lot more appreciated if he could flow like these masters. You don’t even want to imagine what swagger like this will do when full volume at a mid-west sorority at 11:30pm on a Saturday night.

A great song can be equally appreciated in the sober light of day as well as a sloshed walk home through streets you are pretty sure you recognize… I’ve confimed this song’s greatness many times for all of you.

Side step! Clap! Side step! Clap! No, no, no, not like that! This isn’t a country bar, this is an indie-pop dance night in a London basement pub. Get yourself sorted!

You have to love a big shiny indie pop groover that is basically a dude dueting with a couple computer robots. I’m pretty sure they are friends, but could be the guy is singing his heart out and the computer robots just keep asking if he wants fries with that.

No matter how lame you think your podunk hometown is and how much your parents don’t understand your taste in bandanas you can crank this jam in your hreadphones and walk down by the highway feeling the king of the damn world. And dude, you are.

You turned the light on in the kitchen and this time the roaches didn’t scurry under the fridge. Upon closer inspection they were too engrossed in their turntable battle under the glow of the microwave clock LED lights. And damn, that one roach has skillz!

This jam will lure you in with the horns making you think its all tender so you turn up the volume to really hear those crisp brass notes but then that bass kicks in and knocks you out of your Keds. And you tied them tight this morning!

You ever think about what happens to the bubbles you blow that don’t pop? The ones that float towards the sun, out of sight behind the trees, where they meet up with other bubbles from other birthdays and celebrate their freedom with tight breakdance moves that are hard for us to appreciate because they are spheres?