50-46

50. Tip Toe Wing in My Jawwdinz – RiFF RAFF

So far, RiFF RAFF’s greatest accomplishment is crafting a persona so cartoonish that even James Franco can’t do his likeness justice. And as for all those that still consider Iceberg Simpson as nothing more than a character, it doesn’t really matter at this point, anyway. The 2014 of 2 Chainz and clubs going up on Tuesdays allowed rappers to clown their way to the throne if they so desired. RiFF RAFF may just be the clowniest of the bunch, what with his asymmetrical beard and designer sleeping bags, cranking the corny up to eleven a year after his most recognizable jam taught us the proper way of pronouncing a certain fashion line. Hate all you want, he makes people laugh while laughing himself to the top.

49. #Selfie – The Chainsmokers

“#Selfie” is a masterstroke of crowdsourcing, a song that captures the attention of those that wholeheartedly embrace the most disgustingly self-aggrandizing form of photography ever. Basically, it’s the perfect song if you love selfies, ironically love selfies, or hate them with such a passion that you can’t help but dry heave every time a hoard of shiny people pauses whatever they’re doing to record their dull experiences. tl;dr “OMG I LUV THISSONG #turnt” versus “wtf smh #conceited” finally found some common ground with a song that epitomizes everything to love/hate about the digital age.

48. Fancy – Iggy Azalea, Charlie XCX

Our songs of the summer don’t deserve this much hate. There’s was literally nothing wrong with 2012’s “Call Me Maybe,” and anyone who took time to lambast 2013’s “Blurred Lines” instead of more pressing issues of sexism had their hearts but not their heads in the right place. If there’s any reason to hate on “Fancy,” it’s that Charlie XCX, a.k.a. the reason everybody likes this song in the first place, gets second billing behind the I-G-G-Y. And sure, you can tell me all you want that Azalea put a white face on Nicki Minaj’s body of work and sold much more than Nicki ever did, exploiting a blaccent and hip hop’s obsession with PAWGs, all while using her white privilege to infiltrate a mostly black circle siphoning downloads from much more deserving artists. But let me ask you this: when this song first came on, did you dance? Don’t you dare lie to me. You danced, and I bet you have that “who dat? who dat?” part down pat, too.

47. Believe Me – Lil Wayne (4), Drake (4)

Throne Watch 2014, the “passing of the crown,” loyalty, blood lines, market shares, arms race, blah blah blah—none of these feudal catchphrases truly answers why Weezy and Drake bother doing this anymore. Not the rapping part; there’s no one better than Drizzy right now, and though Wayne passed his expiration date three years ago, he was such a force at one point that even his spoiled milk tastes sweeter than fresh blood. My question is, why do this together? Both artists are past the point of needing each other’s Q scores, and their coffers are probably so stuffed that entire island nations could be bought with their net worth. But going on five years, it’s still Drake featuring Wayne, or Wayne featuring Drake, this time putting out a single that sounds a lot more like a final flourish than a last gasp from a rapper who seems to have cheated death too many times to feel comfortable with existence. And if Tunechi makes good on his word by retiring after his seminal Tha Carter series completes, he will have what even the best rappers lack: an enthralling body of work from start to finish. He doesn’t need to do it, but boy, barbershops would have one less conversation topic if he didn’t.

46. I’m Giving Up on U2 – Antarctigo Vespucci

Audiophiles will have you believe that satisfaction comes only from the listening experience, and that’s a lie. Sometimes the artist-listener relationship can be forged from something as simple as when I once also gave up on U2, and it turned out to be a pretty solid decision. And then there’s that unforgettable band name, inoffensive to anyone that isn’t a cartography geek, and one that pops out of a festival poster laden with one-to-three word synonyms for hopelessness. Without even listening to a single note, I could tell this would be a track worth remembering, if only because I’m glad there are other punks who believe that we should revisit the idea that Achtung Baby is a classic album. The song isn’t half bad, either.

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