33. Battles – Atlas

Atlas manages to operate on so many levels of deeply satisfying wrongness that it’s hard to know where to start. Everything about it feels impish and mischievous – the track’s every jerk and judder is another boggle-eyed goblin popping up over your shoulder, curling its come-hither fingers. And goddam it sounds good for it. With the zeal of breathlessly excited kids who’ve broken into a sweet shop after hours and are now stuffing their faces with gay abandon, Atlas’ genius is forbidden-sounding, enticing, pulse-quickeningly delinquent. Vocals shouldn’t squeak like that; loops shouldn’t pop in and out of time like hyper-extensive limbs. They shouldn’t, but they do, and the assembled collage of mind-altering ideas lollops forward with clomping strides, brushing aside the squares and conventions like some runaway juggernaut. Atlas is the sound of some malevolent many-tentacled sea creature pushing a million squelching buttons at once. It’s the sound of sheer deviance. It’s musical gluttony. Sometimes, a track dances around you, shaking its wares in your face until you can resist no more. Sometimes it’s worth giving in to temptation.