Last year my best-of was a bit overboard. So for 2015 I decided to scale things back a bit. I’m also over four months late with this. There are reasons (excuses) why it took me so long, but they’re not important. Here are my favorite records from last year, with the top 20 ranked as best as I was able. Some honorable mentions follow after. As usual I have a little playlist at the bottom to hear for yourself.
Top Twenty
1. Kendrick Lamar – To Pimp A Butterfly: If I had to pick a single best record of the year, this would
probably be it. It’s such an incredibly complete statement, both on a personal
and a societal level. This record is not directed towards me. I’m not the
intended audience, and I’m okay with that. TPAB
is a document of what it meant to be young, gifted and black in the year 2015.
However, even though Kendrick is a product of Compton, like other artists
before him, he is too much of distinct individual to truly identify with his
hometown. Like Dylan and Hibbing, the Beatles and Liverpool, Springsteen and
Freehold Borough, or Ice Cube and Compton, for that matter – Kendrick
understands the people from the city that formed him, but at the same time
stands apart from them. He’s special. For this reason, anyone relate to this
record as a personal journey of searching for oneself in relationship to where
you’re from. Musically this record moves all over the board. The cuts are
strung together with a spoken word piece that gets extended as the album progresses.
In the end it becomes apparent that the entire spiel in an introduction to a
staged conversation between Kendrick and Tupac. It’s the concept the album’s
conceit hangs on, building an album as a series of responses to your hero. The
album can be incredibly inviting (the bounce anthem, “King Kunta”) or
challenging (the complex and draining, “u”). The music and the lyrics would
have made this a good record no matter who the M.C. was. The fact that
Kendrick’s rasp of voice is what it is makes this a classic. It’s a voice of
immediate integrity, authority, and emotional reality. His voice is what sets
him apart from everyone else working now.
2. Kamasi Washington – The Epic: My number two record of the year is the appropriately titled, The Epic. Kamasi is a musician that has
been bubbling under the surface for the past decade playing with a number of
jazz and R&B stars. Recently, he’s played on Flying Lotus’ “You’re Dead,”
Thundercat’s latest EP, and Kendrick’s TPAB.
This three-CD set can seem overwhelming on first listen. Not only is it a huge
chunk of music to absorb, but the breadth of the material is expansive.
Everything from modal post-bop, symphonic jazz psychedelia, salsa-inflected
funk, and gospel-infused soul jazz is covered here. One of the best places to
start with this one is “Leroy and Lanisha,” which I think stands a shot at
becoming a future standard. The tune features two fantastic melodies in a call
and response between the trombone and the sax that sound like the interplay of
young lovers caught in a summer romance. The mid-point builds to a frenetic
boil before the piano takes a solo leading back into the main theme. Not only
is it catchy, but it swings like crazy. And even though it's tuneful and you
can dance to it, the solos really push the corners. The exploratory lines are
dynamic and full of joy. This isn't just academic noodling. It feels like
Washington put everything he had in him in this record, as if he didn’t believe
he would have another chance to lead another session and he wanted to put it
all out there. Hopefully this is just the beginning of a long, storied career.
3. Shamir – Ratchet: Shamir rounds out my top three with another young African
American voice. Shamir’s voice, however, speaks from a perspective of
non-binary gender which his countertenor suits perfectly. In his early 20s,
hailing out of Las Vegas, Shamir Bailey is a quick wit with huge personality.
You could solidly classify Shamir in some kind of disco or house tradition, but
it’s not that simple. Take the song, “Darker,” for instance. The intro
comes from a sample of Scratch Acid’s “Owner’s Lament” that’s used in a way
that feels honest and completely organic. This is music that can be as informed
by 80s indie scuzz rock as it is by Green Velvet. The album treads the same
terrain as the misfit disco of Hercules & Love Affair and Planningtorock.
This debut is self-assured, wonderfully produced, and stylistically broad
within its genre. There’s not a weak track here.
4. Smokey – How Far Will You Go?: Technically all of the music on this collection was recorded
before the 80s. That said, most of it has never been released in any format,
and the little that was, sold next to nothing outside of a local cult following
in L.A. Besides, “Piss Slave” (hitherto unreleased) was maybe the best thing I
heard all year. I can’t really articulate why it resonates with me so much, but
maybe it’s that I’ve never heard a voice from the margins sound so bold and
cocky. There is no apology, no shame in this music. Smokey doesn’t intend to
provoke or shock by trading in what society has deemed transgressive. They are
just a duo earnestly expounding the transformative joy of watersports. Aside
from the act being described, this song is a sister to “I Want to Hold Your
Hand.” The same unfettered joy exists in it. And yet, as one friend put it
after I turned him on to this record, the line “I want to be your toilet” makes
the Sex Pistols sound like the Monkees. I realize that imbuing this song with
such significance makes me come off like some lowbrow Barthes-wannabe
discussing some sleazy disco track like it was “Sarrasine.” Oh well. Smokey was
utterly fearless about what and who they were. By comparison, they make Erasure
sound a timid and Coil seem like naive schoolboys. Aside from all of the
cultural importance of this group, the songs and music are genuinely compelling.
Both Randy Rhoads (Ozzy) and the Stooges’ James Williamson went through
Smokey’s ranks at one point. Lead vocalist, the eponymous Smokey, is one of the
best, underheard singers from the 70s. With his golden croon and Shaun Cassidy
looks, he could have been a huge arena rock star. Thankfully, he chose his own
path.
5. Myrkur – M: This is my pick for the
metal album of the year. A lot of noise was made over Ghost’s Meliora, but that album was like a
Satanic version of a Christian rock band - devoted and kind of lame. Myrkur put
a new spin on metal and points a new path forward. A mix of Scandinavian
apocalyptic folk, black metal, and Dead Can Dance, this is heavy, but has clear
separation in the arrangements - it’s orchestrated. Good metal needs good
arrangements otherwise everything is swallowed in a tunnel of mid-range fudge.
Think of the open void in Sabbath’s music, of Metallica’s Wagnerian choir of
riffs, of Iron Maiden’s dual lead guitars over Steve Harris’ galloping bass.
Myrkur’s music is both high gothic and pagan witch rites. M is alternately haunting, pretty, unexpected, dynamic, and super
heavy - a mix of folk instrumentation and electric distortion. Whereas most
metal bands sound like they were produced in an underground bunker with carpet
on the walls, M sounds like it was
recorded in a glass cathedral on the edge of a Scandinavian lake at night under
the northern lights.
6. White Reaper – White Reaper Does It Again: I know I’ve said multiple times in the past few years that white
rock dudes aren’t doing it for me anymore. Well, there will always be room in
my heart for the type of scuzzy loud-fast-rules-with-hooks rock that these
gents serve up. It’s the same kind of hyperactive fun perfected by The
Buzzcocks, The Dickies, and Jay Reatard, but it’s well done and with things as
heavy as they are in the world it’s sometimes helpful to hear this kind of
snotty, adenoidal adolescence. The buried, FM-fuzz vocal production gets my
goat, but the melodies are top notch.
7. Colin Stetson/Sarah
Neufeld – Never Were the Way She Was: There is a bit of a stunt component to Colin Stetson’s records.
He’s like the David Blaine of the saxophone, setting out to produce an
incredible effect through sheer endurance and perseveration of will. This kind
of feat-driven showcase is not necessarily a guarantee for good music -
entertainment maybe, but art requires more. Luckily Stetson usually employs
this rigorous aesthetic discipline towards serving smart, well-thought-out
concepts. For the uninitiated, Stetson makes records that are essentially solo
saxophone recorded live with no overdubs, only an elaborate microphone setup to
capture his non-stop sheets of sound that are achieved through a Rahsaan Roland
Kirk-style of circular breathing. It’s a hard-won trick that creates a web of
sound that infers more musicians than there are. This time out Stetson brings
in fellow Arcade Fire collaborator, violinist Sarah Neufeld, which immediately
broadens the sonic palette. Neufeld’s arpeggios, drones, and vocalizations
bring fresh context for Stetson’s playing. This is an incredibly moody,
bewitching record. It’s not the kind of record you’d play in the car with the
windows rolled down. It’s a gorgeous bummer, but worth the time.
8. Low - Ones and Sixes: Low often get overlooked by the national press because they are
unassuming, low-key by nature, and so consistently good that it’s actually
almost boring. The new wrinkle on this one is the electronic rhythms. It’s not
Stephen Hague-type stuff, more Young Marble Giants. Otherwise it’s just a
really great set of songs – their best, in my opinion, since 2005’s The Great Destroyer. I’m probably wrong
in this last assertion. I probably just need to go back and listen to the last
few records again. Low have a way of sneaking up on you. Their songs have a
weight to them that is completely missing in popular music right now. There is
a durability baked into their songs that bucks any kind of trend or fad. And
regardless of what type of arrangement or production the albums feature, the
centerpiece is always the blend of Alan and Mimi’s voices. Their two voices are
beautiful independently, but nearly devastating together, like a current update
Richard and Linda Thompson. It seems silly to list highlights, but my faves are
“No Comprende,” “Into You,” “What Part of Me,” and “Lies.” The performances are
so convincing it’s hard not to read real life into their songs, but the
implication would be that these two have one of the darkest relationships in
pop music. “Lies,” in particular, paints a brutal picture of two people who
know each other inside and out.
9. U.S. Girls – Half Free: There is a sinister mood to this record which is immediately
present on first listen. The songs’ arrangements and production span a wide
swath of styles. Opener “Sororal Feelings” sounds like the Ronettes on quaaludes.
“Damn That Valley” is death disco dub. “Sed Knife” is a deceptively buoyant,
chunk of punk/glam rock. “Navy & Cream” is their version of an NPG Prince
song. “Telephone Play No. 1” is like a nightmare Honeymooners skit. My two
favorite tunes are “Window Shades” (think Saint Etienne) and “Woman’s Work.”
The latter is a haunting warning of giving into the cult of beauty that women
are raised into. The entire record sounds politically feminist in a way that is
implicitly understood rather than explicitly overstated. It’s all the more
powerful for it.
10. The Staves – If I Was: A trio of three British women, two of whom are sisters, The
Staves sound like a modern update on Kate and Anna McGariggle. In fact, this is
what I wish the McGariggle sisters had actually sounded like. Lots of close
harmony singing on deck here, and sometimes there’s very little else as on the
beautifully stark, “No Me, No You, No More.” The production is handled by
Justin Vernon (Bon Iver) and occasionally a full rhythm section, electric
guitar, strings, and horns appear to lift the tracks outside of their folk
environs. I’m not a folk music purist, so this doesn’t bother me a bit. The
overall result falls for me somewhere between Heart and the Unthanks. Maybe
it’s the album cover’s fault, but this record sounds like it should be listened
to in a cabin in the woods during the winter. It’s warm in a close,
hearth-hearkening way.
11. Ghost Culture – Ghost Culture: As the review I wrote last year (but only recently posted) mentions, this record is Matthew
Dear-lite. I’m still listening to it over a year later which means it’s a
keeper even if it’s a facsimile of something else. What strikes me now is the
quiet vulnerability in James Greenwood’s voice. Dear’s voice is that of the
black box out of a downed phantom 747. Greenwood is just a slightly
sad-sounding guy, and that makes him slightly more relatable, if not as
awe-inspiring.
12. LoneLady – Hinterland: The title track of this album is easily one of my top ten tracks
of the year. The rest of the record holds up as well, but “Hinterland” is far
and away the best. It’s a funky blend of chicken-scratch rhythm guitar, cello,
synth bass, and atonal “Boys Keep Swinging” lead breaks that builds to an
anthemic chorus. My reference points for this Manchester musician, Julie
Campbell, are early Sinead O’Connor (Lion and the Cobra), Bush Tetras, Gang of
Four, and A Certain Ratio. She’s supported Wire on tour which is a good musical
fit. Although this album feels very “80s,” Campbell gets closer to the heart of
her inspirations in a way that her recent peers miss. It’s a fun, spiky, rock
record that makes you want to dance. Hopefully her next record won’t take five
years to come out as it did for this and her also-good debut.
13. Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats – Nathaniel
Rateliff & the Night Sweats: I liked Nathaniel
Rateliff’s previous records which were very different from this one. Rateliff
has moved away from the warm, molasses folk tunes of his early work to a
complete rock & soul review sound. On those first, more intimate records Rateliff
could work his voice up to a throaty passion, but here he belts out soulfully
along with his new horn section. He’s so successful with it, I almost feel like
it’s a bit of an overly calculated move made by a talented guy who knows
exactly the kind of record that would make an NPR music critic drool. So
despite its overt canniness, I can still get behind the crowd-pleasing fare on
offer here. The songs are good, the singing pretty great, and the production
and arrangements are at a Daptone level if not an Eddie Hinton level.
14. Soko – My Dreams Dictate My Reality: There’s an almost precocious, romantic earnestness to this
record. It’s deeply uncool, but that doesn’t really matter. The fact that she’s
French might explain some of it, but maybe that’s too easy as well. If you
watch her “What’s in My Bag?” segment you’ll get the idea of what I’m talking
about. “Oceans of Tears” sounds like a Girls track that doesn’t have its tongue
in its cheek. The record has more of a Springsteen as filtered through Conor
Oberst vibe. The levels of reverb, delay, and chorus (as well as the vocalisms)
give away that she really likes The Cure, but doesn’t quite have a sense of the
larger cultural context of that band. I almost hear a bit of Lene Lovich, yet
not nearly as much fun. So, sure, Soko comes off a bit awkward, but it’s kind
of endearing. She’s got a great sense of melody and a lot of energy which makes
it easy to forgive the seriousness.
15. Jane Weaver – The Silver Globe (Deluxe w/ Amber Light): I admit this record leaves a bit of a bad taste in my mouth
though due in no part to the music or the artist. Shortly after buying this
record I left the second bonus disc of Amber Light in a rental car in Portland
after playing it all the way back from Cannon Beach. I wonder if the next
renter of that Toyota Yaris discovered it and what assumptions they made about
me based on listening to it. What a weird and random disc to discover. In all
fairness, this a terrific set whether purchased as the single Silver Globe or as the deluxe edition
with The Amber Light included.
Weaver’s previous records were outsider folk, but this is forward-looking
Krautrock-inspired trance rock. The eight-minute Stereolab-like motorik of
“Argent” is a good litmus test for whether or not this is your thing.
16. Petite Noir – La Vie Est Belle/Life Is Beautiful: This South African artist’s first record sounds like if
Theophilus London fronted TV on the Radio. Comparisons could also be made to
Peter Gabriel or Tears for Fears as well. It’s big, dramatic rock music with
African rhythms, 80s synths, and romantic crooning over the top. It’s the kind
of record that will slip through the cracks because it doesn’t fit neatly into
the preconceived expectations of different audiences. I found the copy I bought
in the R&B section of my local record store. This is more an indication of
how Yannick Ilunga’s (the man behind the name) record company has chosen to
market the record (if you can really call such a burial “marketing”). This is a
rock record, and a good one. The peak is “Seventeen (Stay),” a seven minutes of
mid-tempo, romantic, yearning new wave. The rest of the record is of a piece
with that song - a strong debut from a new artist.
17. Arcs – Yours, Dreamily: Dan Auerbach makes me feel like a chump. I like this in spite of
my gut telling me I shouldn’t, as if I should know better. Like Nathaniel
Rateliff, I feel there’s a cheat to this - like I’m being sold some second-hand
goods with great presentation and packaging. Auerbach is great at creating very
likeable records (both on his own or with the Black Keys), but they generally
have never held up to multiple listens for me. Only his lone solo album has
stayed with me and I think that’s due to its simplicity. His productions, both
for his own records and for other artists, have become slick and predictable.
There’s very little in the way of surprises or rough edges. Maybe I’m just getting
cranky in my old age. Everything on here sounds good and there are a lot of
hooks, it’s just that I don’t feel a personal connection with it. I want him to
do something unexpected like make something proggy along the lines of Jethro
Tull. I think he’d do a great job with that, but I’m probably the only one.
18. Christine and the Queens
– Christine and the Queens: Not much to say about this one. It’s just a nice synth pop record from a French artist. It gives me some of the same vibe as last year’s La Roux record although I like that record way more. I also hear them drawing influence from the last couple of records from Astra. The arrangements are smart, the songs are tuneful, and leader, Héloïse Letissier, has a nice voice. This is the kind of album and the kind of artist that might sneak up on me on their next record. It might also disappear off my radar completely within a few years. Even in that capacity it holds interest for me the same way as other too-often forgotten French favorites like Poni Hoax and Joakim do. It may be one of those records I rediscover from time to time.
19. Fort Romeau – Insides: I’m not sure what it is about this guy’s records that I dig. There are a lot of people who make lush house music like this. You can actually picture people dancing to it rather than just hanging out in a living room bobbing their heads. At the same time, this is still more cerebral and less dramatic and funky than say, Metro Area, but it still makes for a nice listen. The tracks all hang together well and sound like a real album rather than just a collection of 12” singles which makes it a nice record for driving around in the car at night. Like the Ghost Culture record, Insides, is in some ways yet another Matthew Dear surrogate in terms of tone and mood, if not personality and arrangement.
20. Shilpa Ray – Last Year’s Savage: The rockers on this one are what really grab me. When Ray cuts loose, like on “Johnny Thunders Fantasy Space Camp,” she sounds as lethal as Debbie Harry on “Detroit 442.” And while the song titles indicate that she doesn’t take herself too seriously, the Nico-nodding harmonium featured all over the album creates a very morose and heavy atmosphere that’s truly hypnotic. The album starts with two of these slow burners which maybe is what makes it seem like the record takes a little to kick in. The whole album is obsessed with sex and death in the same way Nick Cave’s work is (Nick was an early advocate of Shilpa Ray). The album centerpiece, “Nocturnal Emissions,” has one of my favorite lyrics of the year (won’t tell you which one). The album lacks cohesion a little bit with the swing between rockers and dirges, but I can’t think of anyone else who’s making music like this right now.
Honorable Mentions
These are records that I liked a lot, but either haven’t gotten
around to buying yet or still have conflicted feelings about. I may forget
about them in a year or I might suddenly connect with one of them on another
level later on. They’re listed here in no specific order.
Marilyn Manson – The Pale Emperor: This record was a real surprise for me. I’ve never been much of a
fan of Manson’s work. The last Manson record that piqued my interest at all was
Mechanical Animals. Like that record,
the arrangements on The Pale Emperor
have more space, the rhythm swings, and the hooks are more direct. Manson has
cited Muddy Waters, the Stones, and the Doors as influences on the album. He
says he’s been getting into the Blues. This isn’t a Blues record by any means,
but it’s bluesy the way Danzig II:
Lucifuge or Songs of Faith and
Devotion are. I hear a bit of that influence along with an Alice Coooper
vibe. That might sound dead-obvious since Manson’s long mined Alice’s
theater-rock schtick. This time, however, Manson emulates more than just the
imagery and shock tactics - the influence is musical. It’s a sleazy L.A.
record. The guitar tones are as natural sounding and uncompressed as they’ve
ever been on a Manson album. This is simply a tough rock record with swagger
and great melodies on top. It puts it in the same vein as Queens of the Stone
Age, but with its own personality. I think it’s easily his best work and it makes
me wonder what a Guns ‘n’ Roses record helmed by Manson would sound like.
Carly Rae Jepsen – Emotion: This was the best pure pop music I heard this year. The songs are
really good, the basslines pop, and the production is a perfect sheen.
Allegedly, Robyn and La Roux were inspirations for Jepsen and you can hear it.
When people talk about how great Taylor Swift or Katy Perry are this is the
standard of music I expect, and in my opinion, they fail to meet. Jepsen isn’t
just an empty pop cypher. She reminds me of Kylie Minogue on this record, and
hey, it’s got saxophones on it! The singles off this are fun, but album tracks
like “Gimme Love” and “Let’s Get Lost” (and half a dozen others) are easily
just as good.
Blur – The Magic Whip: Reunion records are always
tough. Listening to this album is a feel-good experience because it’s nice to
have Graham Coxon back in the fold. There is no new direction here. In fact,
the record feels like a travelogue of Blur’s various styles over the years. In
all honesty none of it feels as vital, fresh, or inspired as it did the first
time, but Blur are consummate craftsmen and The
Magic Whip is very easy and familiar on the ears for old fans. Sometimes
it’s nice to have music that doesn’t challenge, but merely and comfortably
validates your personal taste.
Empress Of – Me: Just as Ghost Culture is a
proxy for a new Matthew Dear album, this record kind of works for me in place
of a new Astra. The main difference being that Empress Of is less of a band
project than Astra, closer maybe to Imogen Heap. The singles, “Water Water” and
“Kitty Kat,” are decent, but I feel the album is better represented by “How Do
You Do It” and “Make Up.” The cover art is pretty boring, but otherwise a nice
solid listen.
Tamaryn – Cranekiss: This is a great record for anyone with a pang for dream pop circa
1989: Cocteau Twins, Jesus & Mary Chain, and My Bloody Valentine. There’s a
lot of sweetness and light on this, however, which one doesn’t always associate
with this sound. Like the Blur album, this is a comfort listen. It’s odd
because although this is a new group, the familiarity breeds a kind of false
nostalgia by association. As I get older I find this kind of lack of
originality bothers me less and less. There’s a nagging feeling of another
influence I can’t place which makes me continue to listen to try to eventually
figure out that elusive influence that I can’t quite place. Someday I may hear
it going through my record collection. Maybe that’s the day I stop listening to
this, but until that day I might as well enjoy what’s here.
EMA – #Horror Soundtrack: I haven’t seen the movie
that this record acts as soundtrack for, but I have an idea based on the very
giallo-inspired recording. I really liked EMA’s Past Lives Martyred Saints, but her second didn’t move me very
much. I’d be very happy if her career took a turn towards this kind of music
which also has more of a Chromatics/M83 feel to it.
OST – Jodorowsky’s Dune: This is the soundtrack to
the wonderful documentary about Alejandro Jodorowsky’s stupendous failed
attempt to bring Frank Herbert’s Dune
to the screen. Jodorowsky’s pre-production work was so thorough that the film
nearly does exist in folio form cataloging production and costume designs by
H.R. Giger and Chris Foss, as well as meticulous storyboards illustrated by
Moebius. The cast was to include Mick Jagger, David Carradine, Gloria Swanson,
Orson Welles, Amanda Lear, and Salvador Dali. French prog-maestros, Magma, and
Pink Floyd were set to do the music. In short, it was to be a grand science
fiction masterpiece before Star Wars.
This soundtrack doesn’t sound like Magma or the Floyd, but it falls into that
early-Tangerine Dream/electronic prog territory. Soundtracks are best when then
enhance the film they are attached to and can still stand on their own. This
accomplishes both.
Danzig – Skeletons: Honestly about half of this all-covers album isn’t very good.
However, there are a couple of tracks that rank as the best stuff Glenn
Danzig’s done in a good long while. The lead-off version of the Cassavetes-staring,
biker exploitation soundtrack tune, “Devil’s Angels,” is sublime Danzig, all ragged
croon and sonic thunder. His sludgy version of ZZ Top’s “Rough Boy” is better
than an Afterburner album cut has a
right to be, outstripping the original by a mile. The Litter’s “Action Woman”
and the Everlys’ “Crying in the Rain” are also highlights. His version of
Sabbath’s “NIB,” on the hand, is not only unnecessary, but totally hilarious
(“Oh yeah!”). The Pin-Ups referencing
cover is pretty funny too. The best part of this release though is how raw and
unfinished it is, harkening back to the simple, direct impact of those early
Misfits records. More of this.
Ryan Adams – 1989: I enjoy listening to this
album, but I’m conflicted about it for two reasons. The first reason is that as
a cover album, no matter how good the result, in the back of my mind it feels
like a gimmick. The second reason is that this gimmick features all of the
things I’ve always like about Adams’ best work from 15-20 years ago that has
been so lacking in his records as of late. As I mentioned in my 2014 list, it’s
almost as if the more of a one-off throwaway the record is (like his Paxam
singles) the more he feels free to be himself. Ironically, it’s on an album of
someone else’s work that Adams’ sounds more like himself than he has in years.
I think it’s the best singing he’s done since Demolition. Taylor Swift writes decent melodic hooks and Adams is
smart enough to recognize a good hook when he hears one. Moreover he has strong
enough skills as an editor to cut out the bits that aren’t so good. Adams
reworks or omits the more cringe-worthy lyrics (no “boys only want love when
it’s torture” section in “Blank Space,” for instance). Is this a better record
than Taylor Swift’s? I think so. Will Adams ever write and record songs of his
own this good ever again? Sadly, probably not.
Baroness – Purple: When Baroness’ first few albums
came out I remember thinking they were okay, but they didn’t leave a huge
impression on me. This record is making me go back and reevaluate their
catalog. This is band gets closer to the kind of metal that no one outside of my
head makes anymore. Lead singer, John Dyer Baizley, is the nearest I’ve found
to prime-era Hetfield singing. The vocal levels alone (high in the mix) are
enough to get excited, but the lack of effects on them to be able to hear the
words is so nice to hear again after the last couple of decades of Cookie
Monster bellows. The anthemic catchiness of this record reminds me of power
metal’s righteous hooks but without the over-the-top Masters of the Universe
chest-beating machismo. My only complaint is that arrangements and production
give me a maximum density (no space), overly compressed 90s heavy-rock sound.
The vocal melodies and riffs start to blend together too, but I’ll be paying
attention more from here on out.
Lianne La Havas – Blood: This is a graceful,
sophisticated British soul record that fits in with Alice Smith, Jessie Ware,
Estelle, and Sade. Beautifully produced and arranged, Blood has a lush, smooth sound atop these very pretty songs. There
is a touch of smooth jazz, but the melodic hooks and rhythmic pulse keep it
from being smug or indulgent. The opening of “What You Don’t Do” reminds me of
something I can’t place - maybe Toto’s “Hold the Line?” La Havas’ voice has
tonal weight to it without being overbearing. It’s neither too light and airy
or too gruff and grunty. Her clean, jazzy, finger-picked guitar work throughout
the album almost reminds me of Jeff Buckley, whose vocal styling she sometimes
resembles.
Thundercat – The Beyond / Where the Giants Roam EP: Potentially the only thing keeping this from actually making my
list is this is just an EP. It feels a bit like a stopgap of sketches although
the music is really nice, particularly “Them Changes.” Although brief, the
record (16 minutes) boasts guests like Flying Lotus, Kamasi Washington, and
even Herbie Hancock. I’m excited to hear what’s next.
Recently-Missed Discovery
Ejecta/Young Ejecta – Dominae (late-2013) / The Planet EP (early-2015): Every year I come upon a record or an artist that put out records from the previous year or two that I missed or never heard about at the time. I’m inevitably missing out on something else that’s really great right now. A review of The Planet in early 2015 hipped me to Ejecta (now unfortunately Young Ejecta), and it just goes to show that there’s too much music being created now that there’s no way to stay on top of all the great stuff. Ejecta are a synthpop duo whose members come from Neon Indian and Ford & Lopatin. The EP is good, with tracks like “Welcome to Love” and “The Planet” as the standouts. The debut from over a year earlier, however, is pretty great. It’s a perfect propulsive synth-driven dance pop in the mold of early Eurythmics, OMD, and Depeche Mode. Vocalist Leanne Macomber’s voice is nice, though honestly nothing remarkable, but the melodies and the arrangements are what get me. Ejecta would suffer by a direct comparison with any of Astra’s records, but it’s still too good of a record to miss entirely. The shame is that Ejecta are probably doomed to never reach their potential due to their gimmicky presentation. Macomber performs live and in videos, and adorns their record sleeves in a near or total state of undress. It’s the kind of thing that either can be read as a brave, political or artistically symbolic gesture, or just a brazen grab for attention. Even if the former is the case, it will unfortunately be too easy for people to dismiss the group by assuming the latter. It’s too bad because the tunes are good.