Category: music

Drone / Jazz / Virtuosity

Mo Léan by Róis is one of the strangest and most affecting albums I heard this year, exploring the Irish tradition of keening in grief. Róis’s tremendous voice is like a falsetto PJ Harvey, and the album is steeped in wonky electronics, field recordings and spoken interludes.

Plays John Coltrane and Langston Hughes by Raphael Rogiński is similarly startling. I barely recognise any of the Coltrane compositions he adapts, and I know none of the Hughes; Rogiński’s meticulous, meditative hushed guitar style is all his own.

Then to four artists who seem to feature every year in my list of favourites. All Life Long by Kali Malone is as staggering as anything the pipe organ virtuoso has produced before. FAÇADISMS by Rafael Anton Irisarri contains signature washes of abstract sound that build to epiphanies. Violinist Laura Cannell’s series of EPs (Firelore, Witchlore, Harvestlore, Ghostlore, Mammothlore, Wolflore, Ravenlore, Mountainlore, Riverlore, Earthlore, Sealore) are immaculate early folk, pagan and mystical and often overwhelming. Ghosted II by Oren Ambarchi, Johan Berthling and Andreas Werliin is perhaps a touch more mechanical than the first Ghosted album, and more so than Ambarchi’s earlier work, but the fragility of a live performance undermines the tightly locked grooves.

The Way Out of Easy by Jeff Parker and ETA Ivtet is similar in many ways to the Ambarchi record, featuring jazz-inflected motorik grooves. The echoes of Parker’s TNT-era Tortoise guitar licks is what makes it for me.

Spectral Evolution by Rafael Toral is a hypnotic combination of electronica and field recordings, and it’s no wonder it’s featured on so many artists’ own end-of-year lists.            

Rock / Post-rock

For me, You Never End by Moin is head and shoulders above all other rock albums this year. It sounds like a grungy, permanent-sunglasses mix of Sonic Youth and Slint, yet the revolving-door roster of guests vocalists makes it constantly varied. I love it.

The Jesus Lizard are a band that have always passed me by, but on the strength of Rack, I should remedy that. I don’t often listen to heads-down, hard-riffing rock and roll these days, but I’ve listened to this album a lot.

As It Happened: Horse Lords Live by Horse Lords is more my usual fare (that is, belligerently, maddeningly repetitive), and an obvious hit for me, as I desperately want to see Horse Lords live.

>>>> by Beak> is very much Portishead’s Geoff Barrow doing his motoric, kosmiche thing, but he’s earned the right. The Silver Apples tone of ‘The Seal’ is just perfect.

All kinds of days by Good Sad Happy Bad is another slightly indulgent side-project by a composer better known for their film soundtracks: Mica Levi. It’s very good-natured and whimsical, and loveably raw, rather like Mica Levi and Alpha Maid’s collaborations under the name Spresso.

Pop / Indie

I listened to a surprising amount of meticulously produced year-2000-vibe pop music this year. My favourite was blush by Mexican artist Girl Ultra, especially the absolutely nuts earworm ‘bruce willisss’. The fact that the EP is only 15 minutes long is irrelevant as I always listen to the whole thing on repeat.

I’m far from the intended listener of Young-Girl Forever by Sofie Royer, and it certainly doesn’t act as a rallying call for me, but it features some of the most infectious pop tunes I’ve heard this year, such as ‘Keep Running (Sebastian in Dreams)’.

SOPHIE, the posthumously released second album by SOPHIE, is outstanding, and the guests stars on each track make it come across like a very well-curated compilation. It ranges from Ibiza sunset anthems (‘My Forever’) and techno bangers (‘Berlin Nightmare’).

Affection by Bullion harnesses an early 2000s sound associated with Animal Collective, and it even features Panda Bear on one track. At its best, its down-to-earth lyrics are as well-observed as the best short stories.

Songs

Mayday by Myriam Gendron reinforces that she’s one of the most exciting folk singers to have emerged in recent years. Her voice is very like Karen Dalton’s, and the arrangements are gorgeous.

Tindersticks have always seemed to operate in the margins, overshadowed by other bands. Soft Tissue is unlikely to change that, with a smooth sound at the direct midpoint between Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (specifically, the album No More Shall We Part) and Lambchop (specifically, Nixon). But the songs! They’re lovely.

Similarly, Portishead’s Beth Gibbons creates no surprises on her first solo album, Lives Outgrown, but it’s rawer than you might expect, and her frailty is front and centre.

The entirety of Cellophane Memories by Chrystabell and David Lynch is an absolute swoon.

Electronic / Weird

Dawuna’s 2022 album Glass Lit Dream is still one of my favourite albums of recent years. This year he offered an EP, Southside Bottoms, and an album Naya, and thankfully both are wonderful, though they amend his lo-fi R&B/dark ambient sound. On both records his voice is lifted out of the murk – now his voice is recognisable as a mix of Prince and Sly Stone – but the scuzzy static interference of Naya undermines the sweetness effectively.

Folklore 1979 by Milkweed is intentionally a disturbing hauntological artifact, and knowingly folk-horror. Its combination of zithers and pipes underpinned by clumsy hip hop beats have earned the group the description ‘slacker-trad’.

Carrier produced two essential techno EPs: Neither Curve Nor Edge and In Spectra. No messing.

Compilations / Reissues

The Holy Grail: Bill Callahan’s “Smog” Dec. 10, 2001 Peel Session by Bill Callahan / Smog was one of my favourite listening experiences of the year, blasting the intense, raw live version of ‘Cold Discovery’ at full volume while driving in pitch darkness.

We Have Dozens of Titles by Gastr Del Sol is an almost two-hour indulgence of one of my favourite bands, featuring excellent live versions and deep cuts.      

Similarly long and generous is rpm by Philip Jeck, featuring spacey collaborations with amazing artists such as Gavin Bryars, Chris Watson, Fennesz, Rosy Parlane and David Sylvian.

The Peel Sessions by Aerial M is a far more sedate experience than the Smog record, but the wonderful version of ‘Skrag Theme’ makes it essential.              

Souvenirs by Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru is another revelation of a collection from the Ethiopian pianist who has only recently become appreciated.

The reissued 2019 EPs Boundary Road Snacks and Drinks and Sweet Princess by Dry Cleaning are as fantastic as the band’s recent output.

My favourite field-recording album of the year is Night Passage by Alan Lamb, a 1980s recording of Lamb’s ‘Faraway Wind Organ’: ten miles of telegraph wires played by the wind.

I already posted my favourite albums that I heard in the first and second quarters of 2023, which makes for a pretty long list in itself. So instead of going bigger, I’ve tried to refine my list to my absolute favourite albums of the year.

Actual songs

False Lankum by Lankum is an incredible folk album immersed in tradition, yet somehow it seems more progressive and strange than almost anything else released this year. The folk horror vibes are strong throughout and the drones are intense, and aural surprises undercut almost all of the arrangements.
Furling by Meg Baird is altogether calmer, and ‘Unnamed Drives’ is one of the loveliest songs I’ve heard this year.
I Thought I Was Better Than You is as witty throughout as we’ve come to expect from Baxter Dury, and perhaps more introspective and personal than ever.
Angelbread is fun in a different way, securing Ergo Phizmiz as a spiritual descendent of the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band.                
Keeping Secrets Will Destroy You features Bonnie Prince Billy on fine form, particularly the glorious first three tracks.
I Inside the Old Year Dying by PJ Harvey continues her recent run of form, with added scuzziness to the instrumentation.
My Back Was A Bridge For You To Cross by ANOHNI and The Johnsons is mature and sumptuous and seems to arrive from another era, sounding like Nina Simone backed by Lambchop.

Weird

Yön Mustia Kukkia by Paavoharju is a bizarre experience, as it seems to change entirely each time I hear it – though each time it’s reliably weird and mired in aural scuffs that make it pleasingly otherworldly.
Similarly bent out of shape is River of Dreams by Romance & Dean Hurley, a soundtrack to a dream hovering on the cusp of nightmarish.
There are rock-solid songs hidden beneath the groaning surface of The Heart of the Anchoress by Bianca Scout, but the whispering weirdness is what makes it so compelling.
Innemuseum by Cisser Mæhl is more forgiving, though its gentleness is somehow alarming, like drifting off to sleep at the wheel.

Drone

Bones For Time by Tongue Depressor features the most gargantuan drones I’ve enjoyed this year, like the sighing of a blue whale.
Giving it a run for its money is The Pels Organ and Hemony Carillon by Miaux & Lieven Martens, a recording of an incredible live performance on pipe organ that sounds like a spiritual Angelo Badalamenti.
Equally impressive is the three-hour Does Spring Hide Its Joy by Kali Malone, featuring Lucy Railton on cello and Stephen O’Malley on electric guitar.

Instrumental virtuosity

The mixture of Ethiopian heritage and the influence of its Bulgarian performers is evident in the outstanding My Strong Will by Girma Yifrashewa.
Congo Guitar by Vumbi Dekul is infectious and full of life, created in two days and backed with only a cheap drum machine.             

Noise / Rock

It’s difficult to accept that spresso by Alpha Maid & Mica Levi is only 7 minutes long! It’s one of the most intense listening experiences I’ve had this year, and it’s particularly overwhelming played loud in the car.
In contrast, Live in Leipzig by Horse Lords is considered and meticulous, but behind its calculated rhythms is a similar tendency towards mania.
Nails by Benefits is the most gloriously angry album I’ve heard this year, and rightfully so.         

Techno

Lazy Mechanics and EP FATHOM by Carrier are precisely my sort of techno – at times barely there, at times punishingly intense.
The same goes for the more driven and peculiar Skynned by теплота.
config by J. Albert veers closer to house or rave, and presses you back into your seat.

Reissues

Don’t Eat Food! by INU is my greatest discovery this year – it’s a simply incredible Japanese punk album reminiscent of Buzzcocks at their absolute best, and though I understand not a word of it, it’s incredibly catchy too.
Not So Deep As A Well by Myriam Gendron is a wonderful folk rerelease from 2014, but sounds like it was recorded in the late 60s.
Picture of Bunny Rabbit by Arthur Russell is worth it for the swirlingly strange title track alone.   
شمس دين by Shams Dinn borders on hauntology, sounding like every funky hit featured in 1980s thrillers, despite being from Paris and rapped in Arabic.
Ettab by Saudi singer Ettab is also Arabic, pop-infused but drawing on Eastern classical influences and featuring a towering vocal performance.

Compilations

Adrian Sherwood Presents: Dub No Frontiers features female reggae tracks in Hindi, Romani, Arabic, and it’s my most-played compilation this year.
Fabric presents Helena Hauff is rammed with propulsive techno, and I imagine would be incredible as a background for nighttime driving.
I’m still undecided about some of the mix treatments on The Beatles 1967–1970 (2023 edition), but its release has been a great excuse to relisten to my first ever favourite album, a lot.

While there were some terrific albums put out in the first quarter of 2023 (see here for my list), the period between April and June has seen a ton of amazing stuff released! Here goes.

Colin Stetson – When we were that what wept for the sea It’s such a relief to hear another proper album from saxophone experimentalist Colin Stetson, after a run of high-profile but oddly muted film soundtracks. This album is rammed with Stetson’s trademark button-clicks, intakes of breath and throat-mic groans, plus Scottish smallpipes by Brìghde Chaimbeul and affecting spoken-word passages.

Romance & Dean Hurley – River of Dreams The masters of hauntological pop team up with Twin Peaks sound designer Dean Hurley once again, following their Celine Dion-inspired Once Upon a Time and a lesser album themed around Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s film The Bitter Tears Of Petra Von Kant. This one’s solid, creepy gold.

Horse Lords – Live in Leipzig Absolutely storming skronky math-post-rock, like Battles battling Beefheart. I would have loved to have seen this show.

Benefits – Nails This Teesside punk band features two of my cousins in its lineup, so I’m biased – but honestly, Benefits are vital in today’s bland indie landscape, and I feel strongly that their politics and anger are true and admirable. This album is as good a reflection of the state of the nation in Britain (i.e. fucked) as you’ll find anywhere.

Hannah Peel / Manchester Collective – Neon There’s more than a touch of Steve Reich’s obsessive repetitions in this short set, and that’s no bad thing. Over 12 minutes it hits that sweet spot between beautiful and maddening.

Herman Dune – The Portable Herman Dune, Vol.3 This final album of rerecorded favourites doesn’t disappoint. David Ivar Herman Dune’s voice is far more raw now, making the oddest moments of these perfect indie-pop songs poignant.

J. Albert – config Excellent dub techno. Last.fm tells me this is one of my most-listened albums this year, which is weird. I’ve been using it as a background to writing, and the time just slips away when you’re in the zone.

Bana Haffar – intimaa’ Their 2019 recording Genera – Live at AB Salon, Brussels is a favourite of mine, and while this doesn’t quite match up, its scratchy, heavenly drones come close.

Lau Nau – 5 × 4 This hazy synth pop doesn’t quite hit the heights of Lau Nau’s HEM. Någonstans soundtrack from 2015, an album still on rotation in my office – but it’s still wonderful.

Alpha Maid & Mica Levi – spresso Oh wow I love this. Alpha Maid has been one to watch since her 2019 and 2021 EPs, and now she teams up with the best soundtrack composer of this century? For a punk garage jam? This EP may be less than 8 minutes long, but stick it on repeat a few dozen times like I do.

Annea Lockwood / Ruth Anderson – Téte-a-téte This one took a few listens to bed in, and the behind-the-scenes story about Lockwood’s tribute to the late Anderson gives it additional power. It may be a demanding, avant-garde experiment, but it’s filled with love.

Afrorack – The Afrorack Absolutely nuts Ugandan synth grooves made using wonky homemade equipment.

Baxter Dury – I Thought I Was Better Than You This witty album seems deeply personal, primarily about his Blockhead father Ian and Baxter’s own self-loathing of being a ‘Prisoner, famous parents, assisted recognition’ whose benefits seem to amount to nothing: ‘But you don’t sound like you / You sound just like him’. But Baxter’s a star in his own right.

Miaux / Lieven Martens – The Pels Organ and Hemony Carillon This is simply outstanding. Even its origins are strange, being the soundtrack to the unveiling of a woven tapestry in the city hall of Hoogstraten, Belgium. The first side, featuring Miaux’s pipe organ compositions, is as magisterial as Sarah Davachi’s release and yet as intimate as Badalamenti. The second side is weirder, featuring field recordings of birdsong and muted traffic. It’s an essential album, I think.

Jam City – Jam City Presents EFM More half-remembered, hauntological not-really-80s pop from the best in the business.

Wild Up – Julius Eastman Vol. 3: If You’re So Smart, Why Aren’t You Rich? More wonderful interpretations of the great composer’s work by California ensemble Wild Up.

Boris & Uniform – Bright New Disease Are they mocking Metallica at times? I think so. But there’s wit here, and variety, and good humour, and stompingly excellent speed metal.

Bruce Falkian – Bruce Falkian Honestly, I don’t know what this is, or who they are. They’re from France, I think. And I think it’s sort of pop music. It’s funny and odd.

Bendik Giske – Bendik Giske I feel slightly spoiled after the triumphant return of Colin Stetson, and now this. Bendik Giske’s saxophone work features many of the same close-miked technique, and it is very, very good.

Arthur Russell – Picture of Bunny Rabbit These previously-unreleased tracks from the mid-80s World of Echo sessions are as wonderful as you’d hope, particularly the title track and the final messed-up wonkiness wonderfulness on this album.

Rrose – Please Touch So good! Techno to drive fast to – or to write car chases to.

Werner Dafeldecker & Valerio Tricoli – Der Krater The oddest, spaciest double-bass drones imaginable.

Ergo Phizmiz – Angelbread Another triumphant return! When he turns his mind to skewed pop (as on my favourite album of 2010, Things To Do And Make), Ergo Phizmiz is simply unbeatable. He tosses off incredible lyrics that recall The Cleaners from Venus (‘You can feel like Ken Russell / In my Catholic bathroom’) or Hefner or The Wave Pictures at their finest (‘I stayed at the table and put a coaster / Over your wine so flies couldn’t get in’). And ‘Day of the Baboon’ is a genuinely excellent pop song in defiance of Phizmiz’s sometimes self-defeating attitude to writing and recording.

Philip Jeck & Chris Watson – Oxmardyke Affecting and frequently terrifying, Chris Watson’s field recordings of a Yorkshire railway crossing become something far stranger and more illuminating when treated by the late Philip Jeck. An aural, modern-day version of Dickens’ ‘The Signal-Man’.

Who says ‘best of’ lists have to be restricted to the end of the year? Here are my favourite new album releases of the first quarter of 2023, for those who might be interested.

Kali Malone – Does Spring Hide Its Joy Three hours of amazing drone work from prolific organist Kali Malone, featuring Sunn O))) guitarist Stephen O’Malley and cellist Lucy Railton.

Tongue Depressor – Bones For Time Ambient drones that sound like the steady breathing of a sleeping giant.

Atom TM – Nacht Intense, moody, minimal techno. (Ideal as background music for writing tense scenes!)

Adela Mede – Szabadság Difficult-to-describe Slovakian almost-pop with beats and field recordings and disorientation.

Bianca Scout – The Heart of the Anchoress More off-kilter beats, and actual vocals, though they’re hazy enough to register only as whispers.

Cisser Mæhl – Innemuseum Listening to vocals while writing or reading works fine for me if I can’t understand the words, and these Danish lullabies put me in the zone immediately.

The Necks – Travel Head-bobbing groove repetition courtesy of Australian’s finest avant-garde jazz trio.

теплота – Skynned Totally nuts jazz-inflected techno that makes a neat partner to the Necks album.

Honour – HBK Vol 1 – Na God Is it an original album? A mixtape? I’ve no idea, but it’s barking mad, and the most fun I’ve had with a hip hop release for ages.

Tresa Leigh – I Remember Rerelease EP of 1970s lo-fi, heartrending songs by a Georgia teenager who, I presume, never quite made it, but should have.

Herman Dune – The Portable Herman Dune, Vol.2 Still my favourite indie band after all these years. These beautiful, stripped-down performances of past triumphs make me fall in love with them all over again. And there’s a third volume still to come!

Adrian Sherwood Presents: Dub No Frontiers An absolute relevation of a compilation: female reggae artists from around the world, singing in Hindi, Romani, Arabic and other languages.

Modern composition / minimalism / drone

California collective Wild Up’s performances of Julius Eastman’s works (Vol. 1: Femenine / Vol. 2: Joy Boy) were two of my favourite albums of 2022, and continue to surprise me each time I relisten. Oren Ambarchi provided two excellent albums this year, both of which build directly on the intense, repetitions of his other recent releases. Ghosted is inflected with Mingus-esque bass grooves, whereas Shebang is lighter and more slippery; both are as wonderful as you might expect from Ambarchi, who rarely puts a foot wrong. Opening Performance Orchestra’s version of Phill Niblock’s Four Walls Full Of Sound is the most engrossing, enveloping drone imaginable. Equally maddening (in the best possible way) is Reich/Richter by Steve Reich, an absorbing soundtrack to Gerhard Richter’s abstract film Moving Picture (946-3). After a run of soundtrack work that doesn’t stand up well without visuals, Colin Stetson released Chimæra I, a chilly drone that features little of his ultra-physical saxophone performances of the past, but is no lesser for it. Anna von Hausswolff’s towering Live at Montreux Jazz Festival is similarly grand, with staggering vocal performances. Sow Your Gold In The White Foliated Earth by DEATHPROD deployed odd instruments designed by experimental composer Harry Partch to great effect. In Promise & Illusion, Ecka Mordecai reaches almost the same heights with her voice. Laura Cannell had a great year, with her folk-drone EP We Long to be Haunted my favourite, closely followed by the lighter but eerier Antiphony of the Trees. Living Torch by Kali Malone is another long drone that ranges from barely-there to punched-in-the-chest. Sarah Davachi continued her wonderful work with the restrained Two Sisters.

Weird / electronica

The most remarkable electronic album I heard this year was I was born by the sea by Hull-based artist Richie Culver, featuring upsettingly jarring, glitchy electronica underpinning dour Sleaford Mods-esque state-of-the-nation pronouncements like ‘There’s more mobility scooter repair shops and bookies than there are bookshops.’  I had no less than three minimal techno releases by Deepchord on regular rotation this year, my favourite of which were the EP Functional Extraits 1 and album Functional Designs. Another act to secure more than one slot on this list is Romance, whose haunting collaboration with Twin Peaks sound designer Dean Hurley, In Every Dream Home a Heartache, is wonderful – but not as wonderful as Once Upon a Time, a vaporwave oddity stretching Celine Dion vocals beyond breaking point. Mattering and Meaning by Dan Nicholls is a superficially beautiful collection of piano loops and field recordings that becomes stranger the more you listen. I loved the ambient soundscapes Nachthorn by Maxime Denuc and the more jittery Koko maailma by Olli Aarni. Finally, I don’t know how to describe Context by Lasse Marhaug, other than it’s as dark and compelling as the entrance to a train tunnel or a looming storm cloud.                         

Indie / rock / vocal

The Ruby Cord by Richard Dawson (or ‘Richard Dawson of Newcastle-Upon-Tyne’, as the album cover emphasises) is a towering success, building on previous albums Peasant and 2020. He’s become by far my favourite vocal artist, and no matter how sweet some of his material becomes, his experimental, bloody-minded attitude shines through. Herman Dune brought the nostalgia with reworkings of favourite songs on The Portable Herman Dune. Horse Lords proved themselves reliable Beefheartians with the wonderful Comradely Objects. My favourite rock albums were Most Normal by Gilla Band and Super Champion by Otoboke Beaver, which drove my kids wild. My favourite calm albums were Gravskrift by Vessel, Ghosts by Haress, Optimism by Jana Horn and the sweet indie debut caroline by caroline.

Wild beats

I somehow missed Native Soul last year, but their 2021 release of South African amapiano house tracks, Teenage Dreams, has been on constant rotation whenever I’m driving alone. In 2022 they produced Native Roots, a more minor album featuring guest vocals, but great fun all the same. Twenty-One Sabar Rhythms is a terrific collection of precisely what it promises, from The Doudou Ndiaye Rose Family. Finally, I’m not connoisseur of house music, but Decius Vol. I by Decius & Lias Saoudi strikes me as the best sort imaginable.

Compilations

There were some terrific compilations this year! My favourite was perhaps Music from Saharan WhatsApp (Sahel Sounds), which contains the most incredible grooves imaginable. The unlikeliest collection I loved was V4 Visions: Of Love & Androids (Numero Group), featuring 90s pop and R&B tunes that sound like hits from a parallel dimension. Very different but similarly out-there was the dark and strange Síntomas de techno – Ondas electrónicas subterráneas desde Perú (1985-1991) (Buh). I loved the uplifting Soul Jazz Records Presents Studio One Music Lab (Soul Jazz), and the first and third volumes of I Had the Craziest Dream: Modern Jazz and Hard-Bop in Post War London (Death Is Not the End). More conventional (for me) delights were found in the drone wash of Hallow Ground presents: Epiphanies (Hallow Ground). Some of the strangest and most exciting compilations I heard this year were Luke Schneider Presents… Imaginational Anthem, Vol. XI : Chrome Universal – A Survey of Modern Pedal Steel (Tompkins Square), the bizarre-but-calm Thorn Valley (World of Echo) and the completely unclassifiable Elsewhere VXIII (Rocket Recordings), which ought to be unlistenable given its breadth of artists, sounds and languages, but which comes across as the most coherent mixtape you’ve ever been gifted.

Reissues

The biggest reissue release this year was the Super Deluxe edition of Revolver by The Beatles. The mournful demo of Yellow Submarine alone is worth the price of admission. Almost as exciting is the bumper ‘Farewell Horizontal’ edition of my favourite Pavement album, Terror Twilight, and a remastered version of often-overlooked electronica favourite Body Riddle by Clark. The smoky trip-hop Glass Lit Dream by Dawuna is my favourite 2021 release that I missed last year, though its reappearance in 2022 barely counts as a reissue. I played previously-hard-to-come-by Mother Is The Milky Way by Broadcast endlessly, along with the beautiful calmnesses of Tan-Tan Therapy by Tenniscoats and Sings Reign Rebuilder by Set Fire To Flames and the wonderful Peel Sessions by Movietone, and a brilliant album and band I’d never encountered before, Hydroplane by Hydroplane. The funkiest reissues I came across were Air Volta by Volta Jazz, Heart of the Congos by The Congos, Vol. 1 by Orchestre Les Volcans du Benin and the treasure trove of Charles Stepney demos, Step on Step. One of the most exciting discoveries was the Trunk release of the soundtrack to the 1976 TV show Children of the Stones, by Sidney Sager and the Ambrosian Singers.                      

I always look forward to compiling lists at the end of each year, taking stock of my favourite releases. Today I asked myself: Why wait? The fact that we’ve just passed the summer solstice makes this seem a reasonable enough moment to sum up my favourite albums of the first half of the year.

Modern composition

The most thrilling releases I’ve heard so far this year are California collective Wild Up’s treatments of the works of misunderstood but recently re-evaluated genius composer Julius Eastman. Vol. 1: Femenine is livelier than any other version of this incredible minimalist piece I’ve heard, and Vol. 2: Joy Boy (featuring pieces never performed before) is a revelation, culminating in a version of ‘Stay On It’ more frenzied and lunatic than ever before. Not only is this a huge recommendation, the collective has pledged that another five volumes are in the works! In comparison, Spiralis Aurea by Stefano Pilia is a far more soothing experience, but wonderful all the same. Ghosted, a spiky and playful piece by one of my favourite modern artists, Oren Ambarchi, continues his run of stellar albums.

 

Drone

The pipe-organ-heavy, doom-metal-without-metal, Kate Bush-esque Live at Montreux Jazz Festival is gloriously sludgy yet uplifting, and puts Anna von Hausswolff high on my list of live acts to see one day. Lucrecia Dalt’s gloomy original soundtrack for The Seed (a film I haven’t seen) is varied and, while drawing on familiar horror tropes, nevertheless satisfyingly original. The new version of Phill Niblock’s Four Walls Full Of Sound by Opening Performance Orchestra is almost as arresting as the Wild Up pieces, though you have to pick the right moment to expose yourself to such a wall of sound, and the same applies to Alvin Lucier and Jordan Dykstra’s extended-drone album Out Of Our Hands. The self-titled album by mysterious collective The pale faced family on the hill, featuring Oliver Coates, is aloof, but very good and often very surprising.

 

Weird / electronica

Mattering and Meaning by Dan Nicholls squelches loops of piano with field recordings, producing a mush of unclassifiable sound, and provides a great background to thought. Mux by drummer Julian Sartorius is more palatable than his recent collaboration with Matthew Herbert, yet his jittery pieces sound more electronic than ‘real’, but that’s no complaint.

 

Indie / rock / vocal

Actually, You Can proves that Deerhoof still actually can, and ‘Plant Thief’ has become one of my favourite Deerhoof tracks. The Voltarol Years by Half Man Half Biscuit is reliably good, and made me snort with laughter. Movietone’s collected Peel Sessions reveals a band that perhaps ought to have been bigger and more loved. Optimism by Jana Horn provides the low-key beauty missing from Aldous Harding’s most recent release; listening to this album is like falling asleep against the trunk of a tree in dappled sunlight.

 

Compilations / reissues

V4 Visions: Of Love & Androids is another superb compilation from Numero Group, featuring ‘lost’ tracks from a UK label that between 1990 and 1994 clashed American and Jamaican sounds with some pretty astounding results. Hallow Ground presents: Epiphanies is far slower affair featuring drones and tones, though often majestic. I Had the Craziest Dream: Modern Jazz and Hard-Bop in Post War London, Vol. 1 from Death Is Not The End is an amazing collection of exactly what the title describes, and almost all tracks are infectious fun. (Volume 2 didn’t quite live up to the first, though.) My favourite compilation so far this year is Music from Saharan WhatsApp from Sahel Sounds, certainly the most eye-opening release I’ve heard for months, and foot-tappingly catchy too.

Drone

In the latter part of this year I’ve had HYbr:ID I by Alva Noto on near-constant rotation while writing; it’s the album that most consistently pushes me into a flow state, and because I’ve done so much writing this year, by default I suppose this is my favourite album of 2021. A close contender is 7.37/2.11 by Perila, similarly ghostlike and similarly impossible to describe when not actually listening to it. My other favourite drone albums of the year are Rakka II by Vladislav Delay and Fringe by Felisha Ledesma, and my favourite field recordings are on dawn, always new, often superb, inaugurates the return of the everyday by the always excellent Kate Carr.           

Modern composition

Two unexpected delights of this year were also two revisitations of favourites from previous years. Teenage Lontano by Marina Rosenfeld features teenagers singing acapella RnB, snippets of which were previously featured on the wonderful Plastic Materials in 2009. Oren Ambarchi’s Live Hubris is, fairly obviously, a live version of 2016’s Hubris, which was among my favourite albums of that year. I loved The Changing Account by G.S. Schray, which evokes both Tortoise and Talk Talk’s Laughing Stock. Other favourites this year include Harmattan by Klein, Wild Up’s rendition of Julius Eastman’s Femenine, Cracks by Bendik Giske as well as Giske’s untitled collaboration with Pavel Milyakov, both of which stood in nicely for the absence of new Colin Stetson material other than his soundtrack work, and Dog Mountain by Laurin Huber and Antiphonals by the ever-reliable Sarah Davachi.

Weird / electronica / hip hop

One of the most notably weird albums this year was Deep England by Gazelle Twin & NYX, which is at once pagan, folk-horror and decidedly modern. It also features ‘Fire Leap’ from The Wicker Man, which gets extra points. A lot of my favourite electronica seems to be inspired by Dean Blunt’s and Inga Copeland’s muttered, hazy quasi-hip-hop productions dating all the way back to Black is Beautiful in 2012 – from Dean Blunt’s own BLACK METAL 2 to Fast Fashion by Lolina (aka Inga Copeland herself) to the tonally similar SHILOH: Lost For Words by John Glacier, the marvellous Blue Hills by Jonnine, and Equal Amounts Afraid by LA Timpa. Finally, What Is Normal Today? by Not Waving is a total departure from their recent downbeat style, instead dizzying, queasy and propulsive techno.            

Indie / rock

At this stage in their long career, it seems unreasonable to expect new things of Low, and yet they seem increasingly intent on burying their angelic voices beneath distortion and sheer noise. I’m happy to say that HEY WHAT is all the better for it, and contains some of my favourite moments of any album this year, and is almost up to the standard of the incredible Double Negative from 2018. Henki by Richard Dawson & Circle came in almost too late to feature on this list, but it’s quickly risen to become an album I can’t stop playing, particular the later songs which indulge Dawson’s hitherto-unknown liking for metal. I returned often to three excellent post-rock albums this year: Bright Green Field by Squid, Cavalcade by black midi and For the first time by Black Country, New Road, all of which owe a debt to other, better bands (notably Slint), but since when did all music have to be entirely original? Another indie album with clear influences was Anything Can’t Happen by Dorothea Paas, at her best when channelling Joni Mitchell jamming with Crazy Horse. My favourite afrobeat albums were Afrique Victime by Mdou Moctar and Kologo by Alostmen. Other notable releases I enjoyed were Half Mirror by Chorusing and CHUCKLE by Alpha Maid.

Pop / vocal

Reason to Live by Lou Barlow is probably his most accessible album, and perhaps sometimes mawkish, but still terrific. If I’d spent more time driving this year, I’m pretty sure I’d have listened to Daddy’s Home by St. Vincent a lot more. Flock by Jane Weaver channels Stereolab pleasingly, Rhinestones by HTRK is an utter joy and was my favourite music for relaxing this year, along with the divine Hanazono by Satomimagae.   

Compilations / reissues

My favourite compilation by a country mile was Rocksteady Got Soul from Soul Jazz. Then, in order of preference: Cameroon Garage Funk (Analog Africa), A Little Night Music: Aural Apparitions from the Geographic North (Geographic North) and Two Synths A Guitar (And) A Drum Machine: Post Punk Dance Vol.1 (Soul Jazz). As for reissues, the standouts for me were Kid A Mnesia by Radiohead and Radar of Small Dogs by Stephen.

Drones

 

 

 

 

 

Goodness, what a lot of good drone albums there were this year! The Sacrificial Code by Kali Malone is a towering achievement – almost two hours of austere, subtly shifting pipe organ drones that slip me into a liminal space the moment they begin. I’ve listened to Genera – Live at AB Salon, Brussels by Bana Haffar more than any other album this year and still I understand it very little, but find it totally absorbing, strange and inspiring. The Gaelic smallpipe drones of The Reeling by Brighde Chaimbeul are utterly stunning – it’s an album that I’ve returned to far more than I’d expected on first listen. Bioluminescence by Shorelights is a far more manufactured confection, but there’s an organic element to the pulses, bird calls and wind beneath the surface. I can’t get enough of it. The field recordings of Vegetal Negatives by Marja Ahti are far more comprehensible, but conjure a soundscape that’s no less weird and no less hypnotic. Kimberlin (Original Soundtrack) by Abul Mogard continues Mogard’s incredible run of form, no less crucial and enveloping than any of his non-soundtrack work. Futuro (Music for the Waldorf Project) by Not Waving is an arresting soundtrack for literally anything you might be doing, and which sounds utterly different on each listen, as if the recording might respond to one’s mood. The title track of Epistasis by Maria w Horn, with its live string quartet and brooding – is it a harmonium? – is the standout track of a standout album. Traveller on the Road by Skin Crime recalls the most dread-filled moments of David Lynch movies, and sits well alongside other Hospital Productions artists such as Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement. Industry / Water by Michael Gordon / Jonny Greenwood  is the best release so far from Greenwood’s Octatonic label, as much a drone record as modern classical, and bodes well for future releases. Pyroclasts by Sunn O))) is awesome in the most awe-filled sense of the word. Pale Bloom by Sarah Davachi is another wonderful album from the Californian artist – particularly the 21-minute final track, which brings us all the way back to the organ dirge of Kali Malone.

Propulsive weird jazz and minimal techno

 

 

 

 

 

That’s a valid category, isn’t it? Atto IV by Vladimir Tarasov is an astounding album of jazz riffs and pulses that recall one of my favourite Oren Ambarchi albums, Quixotism. The man himself is present on Oglon Day by Oren Ambarchi, Mark Fell, Will Guthrie, Sam Shalabi, which delivers dizzying overlapping rhythms and a sense of huge regret at not seeing the performance live. Pink Nothing by Tom Richards, performed on an emulation of Daphne Oram’s unfinished ‘Mini Oramics’ machine, is maddeningly hypnotic. Triumvirate by Carter Tutti Void isn’t quite up to the level of majesty as their Transverse release, but it’s still ace. I by Föllakzoid is an unremitting forward march into the alien unknown.

Voices

 

 

 

 

 

All My People by Maria Somerville is comfortably my favourite vocal album of the year, neatly stepping in for the lack of new Grouper. 2020 by Richard Dawson retains Dawson’s lyrical precision and his wonderful voice, but lacks the lunacy of his previous releases. Arrival by Fire! Orchestra is more accessible than the band’s recent releases and features a surprising amount of vocals. ANIMA by Thom Yorke is assured and full of earworms. The Age of Immunology by Vanishing Twin is joyous and undemanding despite its complexity. Look Up Sharp by Carla dal Forno is strikingly familiar hauntology, an album half-remembered from childhood. The Envoy by Gavilán Rayna Russom is majestic and deeply weird, and features Cosey Fanni Tutti on vocals and arrangements by Peter Zummo.

Compilations and reissues

 

 

 

 

Three Highlife albums provided me with lots of happiness – the first being Hitsville Re-Visited by Ebo Taylor, Pat Thomas, Uhuru Yenzu, also from 1982, the most joyous recording I’ve heard all year. However, the more overly funky Control by Gyedu-Blay Ambolley & Zantoda Mark III, from 1980, and Grupo Pilon: Leite Quente Funaná de Cabo Verde by Grupo Pilon, a collection of 1980s recordings of Electro-Funaná from West Africa’s Cabo Verde Islands, give Ebo a run for his money. Oren Ambarchi rears his head again, curating a vast selection of experimental, drone and unclassifiable recordings from his own record label for the compilation Black Truffle At 10. The rerelease of Michael O’Shea by Michael O’Shea from 1982 is a revelation – Indo-European voodoo played on, according to Boomkat: a hybrid of a zelochord and a sitar, made on a wooden door salvaged in Munich, and with the crucial addition of electric pick-ups and the ‘Black Hole Space Box’. Hissing Theatricals by Tapes, a rerelease of the 2009 dub album, is wonderful, as are the 1980s synth post-punk experiments contained on Beside Herself by Michele Mercure.

My favourite album of 2018 is Double Negative by Low. Low are a fine band with a discography built up over 25 years that, while unshowy, must surely make any other band weep. Like the songs of, for example, Leonard Cohen, beneath what may appear like superficial gloominess has always been a beating heart of optimism and beauty. Double Negative is a departure, and my favourite Low album since Secret Name. Alan Sparhawk’s and Mimi Parker’s ordinarily ice-clear harmonies are buried within fuzz and distortion, often squeezed out as a Sparky’s Magic Piano-esque squelch. I’m a fan of deteriorated sound, that’s for sure, but amidst all this degradation the occasional surfacing of untampered-with vocals feel like glimpses of something divine. It’s the most wonderful album, and ‘Tempest’ is my favourite song of the year.

Modern soul isn’t usually my thing, but Childqueen by Kadhja Bonet absolutely is, filled as it is with gorgeous melodies and lush orchestration. For the most part, the best aural (as opposed to vocal) comparison I can think of is Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On, though there are shades of Kamasi Washington’s The Epic and Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life, and the slick production of ‘Mother Maybe’ reminds me strongly of one of my 80s guilty pleasures, Sade’s ‘Smooth Operator’. I can’t think of another 2018 album that feels so pleasurable throughout its running time. In addition, Kadhja Bonet was responsible for the entirety of the album; everything written, sung and played, and she produced and mixed it too, which I find incredible.

The drone album I’ve enjoyed most this year is Rausch by GAS. It’s difficult to describe why one lengthy drone is preferable to another, but there’s a depth to these seven tracks that just, I don’t know, takes me away… It’s only now, listening carefully and attempting to analyse it, that I’m able to identify particular elements: tapping hi-hats, bass thrums, reversed cymbals. Previously, I wouldn’t have been able to describe what produced the effect, only that’s the whole is absorbing and hypnotic. For me, this album is up there with Biokinetics by Porter Ricks and What?? by Folke Rabe.

Click ‘Continue reading’ for lots more picks and a playlist.

Continue reading “Favourite albums of 2018” →

I’m pretty sure that by now everybody’s seen the recent Facebook meme of showing the 10 albums that you find important, right? Now that I’ve finished my 10-album, 10-day list I thought I’d post it here for posterity. I’m afraid I wasn’t able to stick to the rule of omitting any explanation of my choices…

#1 Victor Borge – Phonetic punctuation / A Mozart opera
I’ve chosen this album to represent my parents’ record collection, and the fact that when I was a kid I was more likely to listen to comedy than music. But also, I still think it’s hysterically funny, and the album cover is still one of my all-time favourites, and also matches my writing/editing occupation. I have the LP version framed and ready to hang once I get my attic office in order.

#2 The Beatles – 1967–1970
It’d be disingenuous to pretend that this album wasn’t the keystone of my discovering music when I was a kid. I’d heard ‘Penny Lane’ via a compilation tape (chosen because I liked fire engines) and ‘Let It Be’ on a French campsite (as close to a musical epiphany as a seven-year-old can have). I listened to the ‘Blue Album’ endlessly while I was growing up; it’s part of me.

 

 

 

 

 

#3 Tortoise – TNT   /   Gastr Del Sol – Camoufleur
TNT by Tortoise was responsible for shifting my listening from rock to post-rock and experimental music. And that self-effacing album cover! Tortoise were an important band to me, partly because they had so many side projects that would lead me into other areas. In fact, two members of Tortoise were in the original lineup of Gastr Del Sol, though by the time of CAMOUFLEUR the lineup was David Grubbs and Jim O’Rourke (with contributions from Markus Popp of Oval). Jim O’Rourke would lead me into new areas – via his indie stuff and then into far stranger listening territory. Gastr Del Sol’s CAMOUFLEUR came a little later, but is probably my favourite post-rock album.

 #4 Nick Cave – And No More Shall We Part
I know that many people would argue for other Nick Cave albums being more immediate, more visceral, plain better than this, but I adore it unconditionally. It’s one of the most literate and darkly funny albums I can think of, and it inspired my early attempts to write short stories as much as, say, John Updike’s RABBIT series of books did.

#5 Herman Düne – Not On Top
For the longest time, I considered Herman Düne my favourite band. They were charming, witty and, unlike most of the music I listened to, they were alive and there were lots of opportunities to see them play live – which I did, perhaps five or six times in total. I listened to a lot of ‘anti-folk’ at the beginning of this century, though few of the performers still have the same resonance for me as Herman Düne, who have soundtracked some of the happiest moments of my life.

 

 

 

 

 

#6 The Modern Lovers  – The Modern Lovers   /   Jonathan Richman – Jonathan Goes Country
Around 2005 I listened to little other than Jonathan Richman’s vast back catalogue, from his snotty Velvet-Underground-ish origins to his latter-day embarrassing-dad persona – both equally loveable. THE MODERN LOVERS and JONATHAN GOES COUNTRY were on constant rotation when I was working alone for long stretches in California. The former is one of the great proto-punk albums, and a tantalising suggestion of a path that Richman would decide not to take; the latter is a goofy experiment that shouldn’t work, but succeeds through its wholehearted charm. It’s my favourite music to drive to.
(My favourite detail about the change in direction after the release of The Modern Lovers in 1976: David Robinson left the group ‘due to frustration with Richman’s quest for lower volume levels’.)

#7 Lonnie Donegan – Rock Island Line: The Singles Anthology 1955–1967
Lonnie Donegan’s early singles are some of the most thrilling songs I know of: catchy, funny, utterly wild. When I discovered this fantastic compilation set in 2006 I described it as follows in a blog post:
“I can’t get enough of Lonnie’s rasping, distorted, chuckling voice. I love that he addresses his songs to ‘the boys’. I love his rambling introductions to the simplest of songs. I love the way that his songs feel spontaneous, and that when the band cuts loose it doesn’t even sound like they’re playing musical instruments. They’re beating on the walls and stamping on the floor and Lonnie is wailing through the white noise…”

#8 Steve Reich – Music for 18 Musicians
This was a total revelation to me when I first heard it around fifteen years ago, and set me off listening to modern composition and minimalist pieces. I think it’s utterly perfect.

#9 Gavin Bryars – Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet
One of the most emotional musical experiences I’ve had was the American Contemporary Music Ensemble’s performance of ‘Jesus’ Blood Never Failed Me Yet’ at the All Tomorrow’s Parties festival curated by Jeff Mangum in 2012. Rose and I had recently decided to start a family, and for whatever reason the repeated words of Bryars’ piece struck me as advice from a parent to a child. By the end I was in pieces.

#10 Oren Ambarchi – Grapes from the Estate
If any artist sums up my current listening preferences, it’s Oren Ambarchi. (Jim O’Rourke’s experimental work would come close second.) These days I most often listen to music while working, so it’s almost all instrumental. Aside from being absurdly beautiful, GRAPES FROM THE ESTATE is the most wonderful background to achieving a trance-like mindset.