Showing posts with label Billie Eilish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Billie Eilish. Show all posts

Monday, September 05, 2022

Record Roundup: Evocative Voices

The origins of all music lie in the body and the voice. Here are some remarkable recent releases that foreground the voice in various ways.

The Crossing - Born "So this is his mother. This small woman. The gray-eyed procreator." So begins Born, the arresting poem by Wislawa Szymborska that provides the text for the emotionally incisive piece (2017) by Michael Gilbertson that opens this album. Scored so it feels like the singers are feeling their way through the poem's universe and reacting in real time, it's a gorgeous tribute to the mother of conductor Donald Nally, whose sure hand guides the choir. Gilbertson's Returning (2021), which draws on Biblically-inspired text from Kai Hoffman-Krull, closes the collection in two parts of dynamic, searching music. In between those bookends is Edie Hill's Spectral Spirits (2019), 13 short movements meditating on extinct birds through the poetry of Holly J. Hughes and observations by Henry David Thoreau and other naturalists. Hill uses the words and occasional vocalise to create gently flowing phrases, interspersed with short solos announcing the naming of the lost animals. It's a gorgeous elegy and an original way to reflect on all the ways humankind has been unkind to the earth. Typically for an album by The Crossing, the recording and performances are impeccable. 

Carlos Simon - Requiem For The Enslaved If a piece of music can be seen as a container for emotion, then Simon's extraordinarily powerful Requiem is near to bursting. Such is the weight of what he's conveying - "marking eternal rest" for the American slaves sold off in 1838 to keep Georgetown University afloat - that it would seem an impossibility for any work of art to encompass it. But Simon is both brave and skilled enough that he pulls it off in a way that should silence any argument about slavery's central role in the American legacy. The idiom he creates, drawing on musical colors associated both with the European classical tradition and the diaspora, including spirituals, hip hop, New Orleans jazz, and others, would become a morass for almost any other composer, but Simon moves his brush around the palette with dazzling ease and great depth of feeling. 

While I hope this bold, at times shattering, work becomes a concert hall staple, it's going to be hard to match Simon's collaborators here, including rapper and spoken word artist Marco Pavé, who also wrote the text, trumpeter Jared "MK Zulu" Bailey, and Hub New Music, a quartet that sounds like an orchestra. Simon himself takes on the piano part, lending it the dynamic range and compelling flow of a great preacher, making it another voice in the piece. Another masterstroke is Simon's complete ownership of the 10-movement requiem structure, using the soul-nourishing force of ritual to his own ends. To be clear, however, while there is a healing force here, there is also deep sorrow and anger. Pavé's text ends with this blistering couplet: "Now when you read the word slave in your false history books...you will know the truth. The so-called masters unknowingly elevated the souls of their property while simultaneously building a tomb in hell for themselves." Amen. 

Kate Soper Feat. Sam Pluta - The Understanding Of All Things On this fantastic and fantastical collection, Soper shoulders her way into a small but elite group that includes Scott Johnson and Laurie Anderson. Using her voice to convey content that is both informational and musical, all with a wry wit that seems to say, "Can you believe I'm getting away with this?" she takes us on a thrill ride grounded in her piano and Pluta's electronics. At times her voice is a ghost in the machine, getting pulled like taffy or chopped into bits, while never losing sight of the thoughts she wishes to explore. Pulling texts as wide-ranging as Kafka, Parmenides, and W.B. Yeats, to explore the meaning of existence, this is like hippest philosophy class - or Ted Talk - ever, and one you can play over and over again. To be honest, however, I wasn't feeling it much on my first go round. But then I listened to Season Two of the Miller Theatre's Mission Commission podcast, on which Soper is a featured composer, and something clicked. Whatever journey you take to find this, get started now. You don't want to be late for class. 

Loadbang - Quiver This quartet puts baritone voice (Jeffrey Gavett) alongside trumpet (Andy Kozar),  trombone (William Lang), and bass clarinet (Carlos Cordeiro or Adrián Sandi) almost as if it were just another breath-powered instrument  - yet one that can outdo the others in flexibility and variety. As on their last album, which featured a string section, they unflappably take on whatever the pieces demand, whether it's the (mock?) solemnity of Gavett's own Quis Det Ut (2016), which takes inspiration from the renaissance, or the gasps and warbles of Heather Stebbins' fragmented title track (2014). Other pieces by Quinn Mason, Cordeiro, ZangYun WE, Kozar, and Chaya Czernowin, are more text-based, featuring poetry by Lydia Davis, William Blake, and others, in settings like you'e never heard before. Venture in and be as fearless in your listening as Loadbang was in the act of creation.

Ethan Woods - Burnout After 2019's Hyperion Drive, a sleek and sexy collaboration with Alice TM, Woods returns to similar realms as his earlier Mossing Around EP, applying his warm singing to  meandering melodies in chamber-folk arrangements of his most assured set of songs yet. Many of the lyrics address animals or are even from the point of view of the feathered and the furred, adding to the gently dissociative vibe that could be called psychedelic, but also reaches back to Lewis Carroll and Edward Lear. Woods' approach to song-craft is unique enough that it's easier to see it as a parallel path rather than tangential so when you get tired of our storyline, give a listen to his.

Moor Mother - Jazz Codes Though not obviously a concept album, there's a cinematic sweep to this latest from poet, professor, composer, and visual artist Camae Aweya that calls back to Barry Adamson's movie of the mind, Moss Side Story. While there is great musical variety here, with bright touches from Mary Lattimore's harp, Nicole Mitchell's flute, and other guests, the whole thing is slathered in a rhythmic juiciness, like a lost dream of the late, great Ras G. The vocal blend is top notch, with singers Orion Sun, Wolf Weston, Melanie Charles, and others lending their hearts and souls to the project alongside rappers including Yungmorpheus and Akai Solo. But dominion over all comes from Moor Mother herself: her composition, her intention, her spoken words, and even her sharp flow on Rap Jasm, the obvious single here. Her kaleidoscopic overview of the Black musical experience encompasses everyone from Woody Shaw to OutKast and Linton Kwesi Johnson. Her lyrics are impressionistic, revealing, and arising out of a depth of knowledge and feeling that power through any haziness due to their roots in the traditions of "great Black music, ancient to the future," as the Art Ensemble of Chicago put it. The song Evening gives us plenty of bread crumbs to follow, from "Free jazz lifestyle, yeah, I'm off the cuff," to "Spirits in the dark, let Nina sing, because it DON'T mean a thing/If it ain't got the blues." I mentioned a lot of names here, but the only one you should remember is Moor Mother's as she continues to astonish and become ever more crucial to the tenor of our times.

Lizzo - Special When her last album, Cuz I Love You, exploded in the sky over 2019, I worried about the influence success might have on her future work. But as she was just remaking pop, hip hop, and r&b in her own image, I was probably overthinking it. Either way, I'm overjoyed that her latest goes down so easy you might play it twice just to keep feeling so good. No song overstays its welcome and if Am I Ready causes a slight cringe with its Katy Perry-esque chorus, its still catchy as heck and goes by fast. Standouts are the pure disco of About Damn Time, the electro overshare of I Love You, Bitch, and the swinging folk-pop of If I Love You, but she plays to her strengths throughout for a fun, fizzy ride. And we all owe her thanks for the great opening lines of The Sign, an epitaph for a pandemic that is not quite over: "Hi, motherfucker, did you miss me?/I've been home since 2020/I've been twerkin' and making smoothies, it's called healing/And I feel better since you seen me last." So do I, now that I have Special in my life.

Billie Eilish - Guitar Songs While the death of the album has been an ongoing debate for a decade or more, it seems like singles are the things that can disappear more easily. So I'm pinning this here, like the beautiful butterfly it is. With Eilish in intimate, reflective mode, accompanied by her brother Finneas' delicate backing, these two songs show off her songwriting and singing in their purest form. The lyrics are deeply personal, with TV finding her alone on the couch after a breakup, asking "What's the point of anything?" and The 30th detailing the aftermath of a friend's terrifying car accident. But her sense of drama never leaves her and the way she finds comfort in a stadium audience near the end of TV, or the crescendo of The 30th ("You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive!"), are strokes of genius that nail the songs to your soul like the end of a Raymond Carver short story. Deceptively simple stuff and hopefully a signpost to her next album.

You may also enjoy: 
Record Roundup: Rooms Of Their Own
Record Roundup: Vox Humana

Sunday, December 26, 2021

Best Of 2021: The Top 25


As wild a ride as 2020 was, at least it had some kind of trajectory. We were learning to live with a pandemic, taking action to put it in the rearview. We were rallying to the cause of dumping Trump. There were fears and challenges aplenty along the way, but also a narrative to which our storytelling genes could give shape. Then came 2021, with so many neck-snapping reversals for every step forward that any shape the story had would resemble that of the path of a worm chewing its way through wood. 

Fortunately, there was no shortage of new music, including dozens of albums that I leaned on like a crutch. I am filled gratitude once again for all the players, writers, singers, producers, labels, and other elements of this delicate ecosystem who were able to keep going. Still, I worry about some who seem to have dropped away, like Novelty Daughter, Natalie Prass, and Jane Church, and hope they are OK. And while I was glad to see some semblance of a return to concerts and touring, I only attended a handful of shows as I am as yet unable to project myself into an indoor space crowded with my fellow music lovers. It was a privilege to see the shows I attended, all of which were outdoors. 

It's hard to say how the lack of the additional dimension a live performance can provide to a piece of music is affecting my devotion to the artists I follow, but I can only work with what I have. I can be certain that my feelings for the 25 albums below - and the many others I will share in genre-specific lists - are as strong as any other year. I hope you find some measure of comfort, joy, inspiration, validation, energy, and all the things you look for in music in these miraculous releases. 

All of the albums below - except one - were written about in previous posts; click through to read my original review. Listen to selections from all of them in this playlist or below to get the flavor of each release as you explore. While my use of Spotify is certainly fraught with concern about how artists are paid, it has also connected me to music I might never have heard, which I have gone on to support in a myriad of ways. I urge you to do the same should you hear something you love. We need all hands on deck to keep the lifeblood of music flowing!

1. Fruit Bats - The Pet Parade

2. Hiss Golden Messenger - Quietly Blowing It Note: M.C. Taylor also gifted us with a most supremely chill holiday album in O Come All Ye Faithful, featuring gorgeous originals like Hung Fire and Grace alongside covers of everything from Joy To The World and Silent Night to Woody Guthrie's Hanukkah Dance and CCR's As Long As I Can See The Light. The deluxe edition came with a separate disc of dubbed out versions, also available here, that are absorbing, immersive, and some of my favorite music ever from Hiss.  

3. Scott Wollschleger & Karl Larson - Dark Days

4. Jane Weaver - Flock

5. Elsa Hewitt - Lupa

6. Eye Knee Records Note: This is not an album but a series of remarkable singles released by Holly Miranda, Amb. Parsley, and Chris Maxwell's new collective label. Ranging from sweetly hilarious to delicate and from devastating to inspiring, they made for an incredible playlist that became a crucial listen for me. I can't suggest more strongly that you get yourself to their Bandcamp site to buy all these songs and make your own playlist!

7. Billie Eilish - Happier Than Ever Note: Having signed on for a month of Disney+ to watch Get Back, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to watch Happier Than Ever: A Love Letter To Los Angeles, which featured stunning orchestral versions of every song from Eilish's sophomore album. Played by the Los Angeles Philharmonic under the engaged direction of Gustavo Dudamel and with string arrangements by David Campbell, the reworks were exquisitely sensitive to the songs and further convinced me of their elemental strength. I can only hope for an audio-only release of the concert!

8. Raoul Vignal - Years In Marble

9. Floating Points, Pharoah Sanders & The London Symphony Orchestra - Promises

10. Mallu Magalhães - Esperança

11. Dry Cleaning - New Long Leg

12. Spektral Quartet - Anna Thorvaldsdottir: Enigma

13. Domenico Lancellotti - Raio

14. Madlib - Sound Ancestors

15. Summer Like The Season - Hum



18. Tyler, The Creator - Call Me If You Get Lost

19. The Muckers - Endeavor

20. Amy Helm - What The Flood Leaves Behind

21. Ben Seretan - Cicada Waves

22. Cassandra Jenkins - An Overview On Phenomenal Nature

23. Arooj Aftab - Vulture Prince

24. Courtney Barnett - Things Take Time, Take Time My heart sank the first time I listened to this, her third album. Where was the low-slung bass of Bones Sloane and the locked-in drumming of Dave Mudie? Where was Dan Lunscombe to provide guitar and keyboard interplay? Why did she choose to work with Stella Mozgawa from the perpetually underwhelming Warpaint? Now, I knew some of those choices were due to the multiple lockdowns in Australia during the pandemic, but still, I was disappointed with what I was hearing. But two songs grabbed me initially and kept me coming back until the whole album just snapped into place. The first of these was Here's The Thing, the most vulnerable song she's ever recorded, filled with romantic yearning - a color that has been mostly absent from her wonderfully clever songwriting. The second was Turning Green, which has some creative drum machine deployment, meditative keyboards, and builds slowly to a terrific guitar solo, abstract and angular yet restrained. The lyrics reveal a sort-of love song ("You've been around the world/Lookin' for the perfect girl/Turns out she was just livin' down the street) that in its series of missed connections seems never far from current events. Take It Day By Day is the perfect prescription for these times, with a chorus that reminds us never to take the survival of others (or ourselves) in isolation for granted: "Tuesday night, I'm checking in/Just to see how you're going/Are you good? Are you eating?/I'll call you back next week." There's more variety here than on her last album and a bravery to the way she's just putting herself out there, with no attempt to conceal her fears or enervation in the face of all that's gone on these last two years. Also, the stripped back intimacy of the production foregrounds some of Barnett's most well-developed melodies and seems to welcome a personal connection to the record, making it feel like a dispatch from a friend. It's Barnett's best album since her debut. As the title instructs, give it the time it deserves and you just might feel the same.

25. UV-TV - Always Something

You may also enjoy:
Best Of 2020: The Top 25
Best Of 2019: The Top 25
Best Of 2018: The Top 25
Best Of 2017: The Top 25
Best Of 2016: The Top 20
Best Of 15: The Top 20
Best Of 14 (Part 1)
Best Of 14 (Part 2)
Best Of 2013
The Best Of 12: Part One
The Best Of 12: Part Two
The Best Of 11
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Sunday, October 03, 2021

Bond, James Bond: Ranking The Theme Songs

For the first decade of my life, my dad worked six days a week, eight hours a day, as a psychiatrist, to not only keep his four kids in everyday clover, but also so we could have unique experiences from time to time. As a parent now myself, I question the idea of being essentially absent 90 percent of the time so you can put on a big show later, but I am also grateful for the unforgettable things we did, one of which was getting six people on an ocean liner that takes them to France and then go on a tour of Europe for a month. This is how I found myself on the SS France at the age of nine watching something called Live And Let Die in the ships crushed-velvet jewel box of a theater. It was almost more than my pre-pubescent mind could take, just the sleekness of it all, whether the guns, cars, boats, or Roger Moore's chiseled jawline. 

While I recognize the extreme privilege of that scenario, I also embrace it as the most James Bond way to be introduced to James Bond. That was the start of my 007 obsession, too, which later included "Bonding" afternoons with my brother-in-law, in which we made our way through the entire series on rented VHS tapes, as well as several years where we saw the latest flicks on opening night. I also read everything Ian Fleming ever wrote and several books about him and the Bond films. One of my fascinations with the whole thing, besides the gripping tales and  eye-popping visuals, is the idea of one man creating something so enduring that it eventually becomes an industry all its own. Part of that industry didn't become standard until the third film: the James Bond Theme Song. As a music fanatic, nothing thrills me more than when the opening titles of a Bond film are accompanied by a song I can fully endorse.

But I also wouldn't be much of a Bond fan if I wasn't a critical Bond fan and I recognize that there have been choices along the way, from actors and screenwriters to directors and musicians, that resulted in a product that was, to put it kindly, less than ideal. Does the name Timothy Dalton ring any bells? Don't feel ashamed if not - he only made two films with the franchise in the 80s before returning to near-anonymity. And Moonraker is not just a lesser Bond film, it's just a bad movie, period. As for the music, much of that over the years was under the control of the great John Barry, who scored 11 films in the series, which now numbers 25 official entries (there were also two made by outside forces, not included here). Barry was remarkably adaptable as a composer, helping the series move from the 60s to the 70s and 80s, but always plied his trade with a flair for lush arrangements and sweeping melodies.

Barry's plush and dramatic style also infused the theme song for many years, establishing a template that often included bold brass and neck-snapping dynamics, usually driven by a vocalist with a big personality. Some of the best Bond songs became hits in their own right, leading to a latter-day scrabbling for chart success by employing popular stars who were maybe not the most suitable for the Bond sound, rather than letting the integrity of the ideas drive acceptance by audiences beyond the Bond core. With the conclusion of the Daniel Craig series finally reaching screens, there could be no better time to rank all of the theme songs from best to worst than now. At least until the next film!

A note about the James Bond Theme: Although the familiar twang of the James Bond theme is arguably the theme song for first film, Dr. No, since it went on to become a regular part of the series I did not include it in the ranking. It is a terrific piece of music, however, from the interlocking brass arrangements to Vic Flick's serrated guitar, and the way everything assembles to create an aura of mystery and excitement. Although credited to Monty Norman, who did much of the calypso-infused music for Dr. No, Barry may have written it and most certainly arranged it, using some ideas from The Bee's Knees, a song by The John Barry Seven. Whatever his role, he was paid $1,000 for his troubles - and handed the prize of scoring many of the films that followed.

1. Goldfinger (1964) - Shirley Bassey (Leslie Bricusse - Anthony Newley - John Barry) While not the first to have a theme song per se (see #7), the third movie was the first to set the template for how the theme song would be used for most of the rest of the series. And, man, did they create a tough act to follow! From the attention-getting opening with its wailing brass to Bassey's titanic performance (which made the Welsh singer an instant star) to the clever lyrics, Barry and co. did not put a foot wrong here. Fun fact: that's Jimmy Page, in his early days as a session man, strumming guitar on the track. He had a front row seat to Bassey's collapse after hitting those final high notes!

2. You Only Live Twice (1967) - Nancy Sinatra (Leslie Bricusse - John Barry) Soaring strings and swirling harp atop a lush bed of french horns open this pure fantasy of a song for the fifth movie. While Sinatra doesn't have the same power as Bassey, her penetrating, vibrato-free soprano cuts through the arrangement like a laser while she delivers the lyrics with perfect articulation. You'd never guess that Sinatra was so nervous that Barry had to assemble the vocal from 25 separate takes! Barry's arrangement is packed full of details and grounded by a distorted guitar line that snakes through the song. Vic Flick again?

3. Live And Let Die (1973) - Paul McCartney & Wings (Paul McCartney - Linda McCartney) After a dispute with producer Cubby Broccoli, Barry took a hiatus from Bond, leaving shoes so big they could only be filled by an ex-Beatle and his producer, George Martin. And, despite seeing it as "a job of work," Sir Paul accomplished the mission with aplomb, concocting ear candy perfect for seventies radio with a suite-like song that combines orchestral grandeur, rock theatrics, and a dash of reggae. Although Broccoli wanted Thelma Houston to sing it, I'm sure he changed his tune when the track hit #1 in the U.S.

4. No Time To Die (2020) - Billie Eilish (Billie Eilish - Finneas O'Connell) There's a fascinating moment in The World's A Little Blurry, the documentary about Eilish, where she and O'Connell are up against a deadline and need to finish their Bond entry on a tour bus. O'Connell is pushing her to up the drama in her vocal but she's resistant, saying, "I hate belting." But you can't have a classic Bond song without it and when she lets it rip after the intimate, almost conversational opening, it's thrilling. Hans Zimmer's orchestration and Johnny Marr's guitar hit the right notes, too, making for the best Bond song in decades. Further proof that a touch of darkness is an important part of the Bond sound world. Watch it live from the Brit Awards for a definitive performance. 

5. Diamonds Are Forever (1971) - Shirley Bassey (Don Black - John Barry) For Sean Connery's return to a role he had abdicated for the prior film, Barry returned to first principles, bringing Bassey back for a turn that was nearly as fabulous as her first. Barry's arrangement adds some novel touches, too, like subtle wah wah guitar and driving electric bass.

6. Nobody Does It Better (1977) - Carly Simon (Marvin Hamlisch - Carole Bayer Sager) In which 70s schlock merchants put tongues firmly in cheek and come up a winner with a Bond theme that is all wide-lapeled romance. Many Bond songs prior were about the villain or hinged on the film title or plot, but has Hamlisch pointed out "It was time that Bond be pretentious enough and vain enough to have a song written about him." Also clever was the way they embedded the film title in the lyrics rather than the song title: "Like heaven above me/The spy who loved me..." Driven by a melody even Radiohead couldn't deny, the song was all over the radio after Roger Moore's third film hit cinemas. 

7. Thunderball (1965) - Tom Jones (John Barry - Don Black) Something must be in the water in Wales as the only man who could almost beat Bassey at her own game was also Welsh. While it's a somewhat formulaic follow-up to Goldfinger, Barry and Black still deliver excitement - and Jones blows the vocal OUT. Originally the theme song was supposed to be called Mr. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and sung by Bassey, who was then replaced(!) by Dionne Warwick. The ensuing kerfuffle died down when the song was scrapped for Jones' Thunderball.

8. Moonraker (1979) - Shirley Bassey (John Barry - Hal David) It will take more than time to dim a voice like Bassey's, which sounds unchanged from the 60s in this, her third and final theme for the series. Unlike the overstuffed disaster onscreen, Barry's arrangement is restrained (for him, anyway) and a better  evocation of starlit space than all the special effects by Industrial Light & Magic.

9. From Russia With Love (1963) - Matt Monroe (Lionel Bart) Although the second film in the series opens with an instrumental theme, having this song in the midst of the film must have given the producers ideas about how a song with the same title as the movie could work to boost the brand. Sung by Matt Monroe, one of several Frank Sinatra soundalikes around in the early 60s, it has an intriguing mixture of gravitas and romance. 

10. A View To A Kill (1985) - Duran Duran (Duran Duran - John Barry) For Moore's last outing as 007, the 80s superstars collaborated with Barry and Chic's Bernard Edwards and created the most successful theme song of the franchise's first 30 years. It's also one of their best songs, a minor-key verse that's pure Bond abutting a chorus that has all the pompadoured bombast that defined new romantic Euro-pop at its peak. The use of digital sampling (by John Elias) made the song sound futuristic while emulating the quick-cutting style that's a signature of the Bond films.

11. Skyfall (2012) - Adele (Adele Adkins - Paul Epworth) A decade on, my antipathy towards Adele has subsided enough for me to hear that this is a pretty good Bond song. It has some of the mystery and drama we've come to expect and incorporates the chord changes of the James Bond Theme in a nice homage to the history of the series. The lyrics also do a decent job of telegraphing the somber mood of Craig's third film. But I will also say that Adele's bizarre relationship to vowel sounds ("skyfoal" "crumbowls" instead of "skyfall" and "crumbles," etc.) can still drive me crazy and putting the song at this point of the list is more a reflection of the degradation to come than the actual quality of the song.

12. For Your Eyes Only (1981) - Sheena Easton (Bill Conti - Mike Leeson) As this is unequivocally Moore's finest Bond film, it's too bad John Barry was a tax exile at the time and couldn't be involved. The song isn't a total disaster, but the complete lack of sensuality in Easton's vocals and the glittery arrangement put it too deeply into "adult contemporary" territory for my taste. 

13. We Have All The Time In The World (1969) - Louis Armstrong (John Barry - Hal David) For On Her Majesty's Secret Service, the first Bond film without Sean Connery, the producers returned to the From Russia With Love template of opening with an instrumental theme and including a song midway through the film. As it is the song most closely associated with George Lazenby's one shot as 007, I included it instead of the opening theme, which is a better piece of music. This breezy ditty with Herb Alpert-esque trumpet is pleasant enough but has few of the sonic hallmarks of classic Bond. While its cavity-inducing sweetness is somewhat mitigated by Armstrong's gruff vocals and the fact that it hinges on the death of Bond's first wife (played by Diana Rigg), it remains pure sap. It's not much a song and ends in a curiously unsatisfying fashion, but Satch always delivers, thus it's not ranked lower.

14. The Living Daylights (1987) - A-ha (Pal Waaktaar - John Barry) Sounding more than ever like the poor man's Duran Duran, this clanky retread succeeds mainly thanks to Barry's strings and stabs of brass. Some things never go out of style, unlike the cheap synths employed by the band. It's a little stiff, just like Dalton's first time as Bond. It's also not the valedictory one would have desired for Barry's last film in the series. He died in 2011 and, while there were moments where it seemed like he would return, he never scored another Bond movie. The good news about that is that he was freed up to compose the music for Dances With Wolves, one of the greatest soundtracks of all time.

15. License To Kill (1989) - Gladys Knight (Narada Michael Walden - Jeffrey Cohen - Walter Afanasieff - John Barry - Leslie Bricusse - Anthony Newley) I'm not sure what Frankenstein legalities caused the inclusion of Barry and co. in the credits. Based on its unremittingly blandness, however, maybe it would have been better if they had actually written the song. Knight's vocal is fine but Walden and Afanasieff have proved time and again that when you drain the rhythm and blues from R&B, there ain't much left. Pity, as this was Dalton's best attempt at being Bond.

16. The World Is Not Enough (1999) - Garbage (David Arnold - Don Black) For Pierce Brosnan's entertaining but forgettable third outing as Bond, Arnold again played the role of a souped-up high-tech John Barry, something he does fairly well. So it makes sense that the theme would have a retro resonance, with a huge orchestra, including a tsunami of harps, and some twangy guitar. I might have ranked it higher were it not for Shirley Manson's underwhelming vocal.  A better song, while not quite title sequence material, was Arnold and Black's Only Myself To Blame, sung by Scott Walker in a stunning return to his 60s croon, which was used over the end credits. 

17. All Time High (1983) - Rita Coolidge (John Barry - Tim Rice) Even lyricist Rice conceded this was "not one of the most exciting Bond songs" and it's mainly pure inoffensiveness that keeps it from ranking lower. An abandoned cover version by Bassey shows that it could have been better with a stronger voice than Coolidge's - but not by much. Funny that they felt Octopussy was an appropriate name for a movie but not a song!

18. GoldenEye (1995) - Tina Turner (Bono - The Edge) On paper, post-comeback Turner is a perfect candidate to sing a Bond theme. However she sounds unengaged with this song, which is melodically barren, and delivers a wooden performance. Nellee Hooper does what he can as producer to bring some Bond class to the proceedings, but seems unable to develop the weak material beyond his initial ideas. Not a promising fanfare to introduce Pierce Brosnan as 007.

19. The Man With The Golden Gun (1974) - Lulu (John Barry - Don Black) Barry returns after McCartney's triumph and gives us...this? Even with the trademark strings and brass combined with stinging guitar, the tempo is all wrong and Lulu can't seem to find a consistent way to master her voice's limitations to deliver the song. The movie wasn't much better.

20. Tomorrow Never Dies (1997) - Sheryl Crow (Sheryl Crow - Mitchell Froom) It took them 15 years, but the Bond production team finally found a singer with less danger and mystery than Sheena Easton. The song itself has some good elements but Crow's singing lacks any semblance of a personality. In a bizarre twist, the original theme, written by David Arnold with Don Black and sung with panache by K.D. Lang, was relegated to the end credits. Arnold overall did a fine job with the music, but the misstep with the song only made it sting more that Barry couldn't agree on a fee to return to the franchise for Brosnan's second film.

21. Writing's On The Wall (2015) - Sam Smith (Sam Smith - Jimmy Napes) Like Crow's entry, this song has a smidgen of promise as a Bond theme, but Smith is a dreary singer with an especially egregious falsetto. To make matters worse, the producers rejected two songs by Radiohead, the epic Man Of War and the moody Spectre, either of which would have made a stunning and distinctly different opener for the film. Unfortunately, the Oscars rewarded this kind of behavior by giving a statue to Smith's regrettable entry. 

22. You Know My Name (2006) - Chris Cornell (Chris Cornell - David Arnold) For all its histrionics, this was a disappointingly generic way to herald in Craig's triumphant debut as Bond, but Casino Royale was so good I didn't care.

23. Another Way To Die (2008) - Jack White and Alicia Keys (Jack White) While many criticized Quantum Of Solace, Craig's second Bond, I thought it was a brilliantly nasty follow-up to Casino Royale. This song, however, a just a mess, filled with "musical" ideas as wrongheaded as teaming up Keys and White, who coagulate like chalk and cheese. Feel free to skip!

24. Die Another Day (2002) - Madonna (Madonna - Mirwais Ahmadzaï) As much as I encourage innovation in the Bond universe, a techno parody by Madonna is not what I had in mind. Sheerly awful claptrap, ending this ranking in unnecessarily ignominious fashion! 

Many things are uncertain. But James Bond will be BACK - once they figure out who can follow Daniel Craig, that is. When it comes to the next theme song, I still maintain hope that Goldfrapp will get the nod, but there are several others, like Angel Olsen, Anika, or Jane Weaver who would do a great job. Who are you hoping to hear over a glamorous title sequence in the future?

Listen to the themes in chronological order here and my ranking in the playlist below. As the James Bond Theme is unranked, I put it at the bottom as a palate cleanser!

 

Note: Some quotes and information were taken from the booklet included in The Best of James Bond 30th Anniversary Limited Edition (1992), with track annotations by Steve Kolanjian. The picture above depicts John Barry in the studio with an orchestra.

Monday, September 06, 2021

Record Roundup: Rooms Of Their Own


Each album below creates a self-contained universe and feels like a direct view into the minds and hearts of their creators. All are also musical innovators who put deeply personal explorations solidly in the context of these challenging times. Their artistic and emotional bravery can be inspiration and guidance for us all.

Billie Eilish - Happier Than Ever I can't imagine what it's like to create something new when you're not so much an artist as an industry. One way around the pressure is to not think you're making an album, just recording a song here or there, and then get boxed into a corner by a global pandemic, which sidelines the world tour that was going to keep you occupied for the next 18 months. At least that seems to have worked for Eilish, who has beat the odds and followed up her earth-shattering debut with this excellent collection of (mostly) elegant and (mostly) intimate songs. I say "mostly" because when she lets all the tension out on the title track, it comes as an explosion of distortion maybe not heard since the golden age of digital hardcore. But up to that point, she and her brother Finneas, who produced the album, explore various realms of electronic pop, lacing in strains of bossa nova, blues, jazz, disco, in a restrained fashion that occupies the same small space as, say, Colossal Youth by Young Marble Giants. 

While there's no doubt this is the same artist who made When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go, the sense of an artist following her muse is very strong. Eilish has enough stadium anthems already, after all, but it will be interesting to see how quieter songs translate to the necessarily large venues she will be visiting on her tour, when it happens. As for her artistic development, there was a key moment in The World's A Little Blurry, the documentary about her early career, where she and Finneas are in the back of a tour bus trying to record their theme song for No Time To Die, and Finneas is urging her to put a little more power behind her vocal. She complains, saying something to the effect of, "I hate belting." Well, it seems like she protested to much. Besides the title track, there are a number of moments here where she lets it loose, like Oxytocin (which must have Madonna simmering with jealousy), a neo-house nightmare of a song that has her unleashing unearthly wails.

A note about the lyrics. While some have complained that they can't relate to the subject matter of the songs because they touch on Eilish's rapid ascent to stardom and the ensuing fallout...I say not so fast. Take the opening track, Getting Older, which has the line, "The things I once enjoyed, just keep me employed," which could be taken as a world weary plaint about how being famous is such a drag. Maybe there's a kernel of that in there, but it's also a rhyme Cole Porter would grab at, and in the context of a song where she also sings "I've had some trauma, did things I didn't wanna," I have no problem feeling sympathy for that narrator. And in NDA, where she makes a cutting remark about having a potential boyfriend sign a non-disclosure agreement before leaving her house, it would be easy to see that as a "first world problem," when the problem is really with the gossip-industrial complex that put her in that position in the first place. In the end, while there's plenty of hard-won personal experience fueling these songs, these are not journal entries but exercises in creative songwriting.

The sequencing of the album is one of its strengths, with tones, moods, and rhythms sliding into or interacting with each other in ways that pull you from song to song. Not My Responsibility is  the dark heart of the album and the tough inner core Eilish exhibits on that spoken word track about the many judging eyes on her and her body is a remarkable display of self possession - and will likely help many young women around the world. Only the last song, Male Fantasy, is ill-served by the track-list as it can't help feeling like an afterthought following the explosion of the title track. It's a beautiful song, however, with an almost folky quality and, like Your Power, shows off the crystal clarity of Eilish's soprano. It's thrilling to think that she has yet to fully exploit all the qualities of that golden voice.

My biggest concern after the massive success of Eilish's first album was that she and Finneas would be corrupted by success in a way that would taint their self-contained writing and production methods, leading to the use of outside writers, guest features, and other things that would dilute the power of their work. Thankfully that hasn't happened here, but I would note that on the vinyl copy I have, there's no mention of Finneas interpolating Gustav Holst in the intro to Goldwing, and neither is there any credit given for the lush photography (by the remarkably talented Kelia Anne MacCluskey) or the pretty graphic design. Until you can do literally everything yourself, it's a good idea to give credit where it's due. Just a minor point and one that doesn't sully one of the year's best albums.

Anika - Change I never knew how much I needed a record that combined the hauteur of Nico with the distracted pathos of Joy Division until I pressed play on this, Anika's second album in 11 years. That gap is misleading however, as she and Martin Thulin, who made the album with her, also released two albums  as Exploded View (along with Hugo Quezada and Amon Melgarejo) in 2016 and 2018. But I missed those at the time and was hence unaware of Anika's remarkable development as a songwriter and artist since that self-titled debut. Using a backing that often combines a tough rhythm section with synths that soar and squiggle in time-honored post-punk tradition, Anika declaims and sings lyrics that often hold up an all-too clear mirror to our current age of anxiety. This radical honest reaches a terrifying peak on Never Coming Back, a mantric (yet not preachy) chant about all we're erasing from the earth through our inability to stop climate change. That tension makes the title track all the more heartbreaking in its hopefulness. "I think we can change, I think we can change," she sings over and over, almost as if she's trying to convince herself. I know she's made me a believer!

My Tree - Where The Grace Is In 1971, Stevie Wonder planted a flag in the future world of synth pop with Look Around, the opening track from Where I'm Coming From. Now, we get the duo of Caroline Davis (vocals, vocal effects) and Ben ‘Jamal’ Hoffmann (keys, keybass, drum programming, guitars, vocals), who seem to have grasped a thread from that flag and pulled it right up to today. Another thing that outs them as Stevie's progeny is the captivating melodic invention of each song, which Davis sings with a jazzy lightness and flexibility. Hoffman's all-synth backing (right down to the LinnDrum rhythms) shimmers and sparkles, aided by a warm production and occasionally live contributions. Musically, it's a breezy experience, but dig a little deeper and you will find mention of Ahmaud Arbery and the Pulse Night Club shooting. They also dissect the Reagan presidency with some help from a rapper Rico Sisney, but even there they evince the light touch that distinguishes their sound and makes me hit "repeat" - I think you will, too.

(Eli)zabeth Owens - Knock Knock When I included Owens' debut, Coming Of Age, in my Best Of 2018: Rock, Folk, Etc., I closed by saying,
 "I get chills imagining the moment when her ambitions are fully realized." Well that moment came when I sat riveted on my couch as I watched the premiere of the visual album that accompanies this album. Using a dazzling variety of visual styles, Owens and their main collaborator, Oscar Keyes, explore issues of identity, breaking free from negative patterns, and the many ways our internal resilience can pull us through tough situations. The music, much of which was recorded and performed by Owens alone, combines sparking harp, lush piano, or spiky synth with glitchy hints of percussion, creating looping sound beds for their nearly operatic musings, which are unafraid of asking the hard questions. 

"When I was a kid, I thought I'd die young," they sing in Oversoon, "Wave goodbye to everything and everyone/Twenty years go by and I’m still alive…/What to do with all this time?" Often layering their voice to create hypnotic choirs and occasionally touching on prog rock, Owens is charting their own course here. While its easy to imagine fans of Kate Bush or Joanna Newsom coming on board, Owens communications more clearly to my heart than either of them. With this richly imaginative, almost theatrical album, Owens has installed themself yet more firmly in the musical firmament of our time. Catch a rising star today.

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Sunday, September 13, 2020

Record Roundup: Songs And Singers


What is it about a song - an idealized, often compact blend of melody, harmony, rhythm, and words - that can lift you up, comfort you, and put language to your inchoate emotions? Find your answers where you may, I prefer to embrace the mystery of one of humankind's greatest achievements. Here, then, are some masterful examples of the power of song on albums could help you get through the hellscape of 2020.

Jenny O. - New Truth Jenny O. is a major artist around my way, her pensive and tuneful indie rock always a highlight of any year she puts out something new. In fact, her first full-length album, Automechanic, was on my list of the 100 best albums of the 2010's. Now we have her third album, and first without Jonathan Wilson in the producer's chair. This time around she's working with Kevin Ratterman, who's been in the trenches for years as a band member (Wax Fang), mixer, masterer, engineer, and producer, and who also plays drums on most songs. Almost all the other instruments are played by Jenny herself, along with the layers of background vocals that enrich some of the tracks. But the new collaboration has done nothing to impede her growth as a songwriter and singer, with her melodies sounding more inevitable than every and her voice at its most confident and relaxed. 

Her lyrics have the same conversational, relatable quality that's distinguished her work from the jump. A song like Small Talk is a perfect example: "Case you didn't notice, I been suffering/Some days are better, others are OK/It doesn't matter what you say/I know you're suffering too, like everyone/Tell me how you feel/How'd your brother die?/How you doing now?/Small talk, small talk." There's also a new dreaminess in the bossa-psych of Color Love, with it's aching melody and distorted guitar. And then you get a song like Even If I Tried, a jangle-pop wonder which should be played on public radio stations across the land - at any other time it would be a huge hit. And if you go to her Bandcamp ASAP, you can still grab a copy on beautiful "Professor Plum" vinyl. When it arrives, just do as Jenny says in Color Love: "Put on a record, let it move you and turn it over/Listen to it all the way through."

Richard Aufrichtig - Perfume Cigarettes
"Take my hand, for a minute/If you can/There's a world in my pocket/And I cannot stop it," Aufrichtig sings in Fragment, which kicks off this companion album to last year's Troubadour No. 1, and there may be no better metaphor for his seemingly endless ribbon of creativity. Consider the fact that all of these songs were drawn from a pool of 400 songs Aufrichtig wrote in his 20's! Like Troubadour No. 1, Aufrichtig worked on Perfume Cigarettes with Josh Kaufman, the genius multi-instrumentalist and producer who is also one-third of Bonny Light Horseman, and the symbiotic relationship between song and sound is as complete as it was on the earlier album. This one is slightly more relaxed of vibe, however, with spare arrangements that mesmerize on their own while highlighting Aufrichtig's warm, wise vocals. Take So Far Gone, for example, which is just bass, drums, and a reverb-drenched piano played with the wide-splayed power of Dylan warming up in Don't Look Back while Aufrichtig takes us to a church built of memories. The whole album is a journey, touching down in New Mexico, Paris, California, on to New York City and "that holy sound," as Aufrichtig sings in RNK 3, which ends the album on a reflective note in an ambient cloud of wordless vocals and and echoing drum machine. Let this album osmose into your soul, which will be forever enriched in the process.

Caitlin Pasko - Greenhouse Speaking of ambient clouds, Pasko's whole album is essentially a formation of sky-sailing soft events, mostly made up of synths and with her voice floating through the haze. A cross between art song and electro-folk, Greenhouse is an album made for lying in the grass and watching the chiaroscuro of life go by your closed eyelids. 

The Dead Tongues - Transmigration Blues While this might be more conventional than the haunted Appalachia of Ryan Gustafson's earlier work, it's also his most assured - and even lush - album yet. It's one long woodsy swoon, with a touch of Keith Richards swagger, full of memory, yearning, and regret. Sheer beauty, and when that tube-driven guitar solo leaps out of Nothingness And Everything it's a startling reminder of the deep well Gustafson draws from for his music.

Alex Rainer - Time Changes I know Alex mainly as a member the team at Unison Media, who keep me in the loop on things like what the JACK Quartet is up to - or that amazing Miyamoto Is Black Enough album that I reviewed recently. But he is also an exceptionally fine folk singer/songwriter and Time Changes, his first album in four years, is loveliness itself. While Nick Drake or Robin Pecknold might come to mind when listening to his intricate finger-picking and slightly husky voice, there's an emotional ease here that is worlds away from Drake's haunted searching or the existential questions of a Fleet Foxes track. Beneath the calm surface, however, lies hidden strength that you can draw on as you navigate these difficult times. If your steps are faltering, take Rainer to heart when he sings on Take One: "Don’t waste what you’re given/Just do what you got to do/And don’t worry, good things/will come to you soon." Good things, indeed - like this wonderful album. Let it come to you soon.

Emma Swift - Blonde On The Tracks That Bob Dylan is the greatest songwriter of the 20th and 21st centuries needs no further proof than this marvelous collection by Swift, an Australian transplant to Nashville who released an EP of limpid Americana in 2014. Everything I said above about the power of song seems to have been what attracted Swift to this material as she struggled though her own dark times and she sings each one as if it were her own. Much of the album was recorded in the last few years, aided by the sensitive production and musicianship of Pat Sansone, and a band of Nashville all-stars: Jon Radford (drums), Jon Estes (bass), and Thayer Serrano (pedal steel). But it wasn't until the combination of her tour being cancelled ("I lost my job," as she puts it - correctly) and Dylan's release of I Contain Multitudes that Swift was able to summon the impetus to release the album, quickly recording her own version, which reveals the song as an all-time great even beyond the original, and Simple Twist of Fate to fill out the track list. Living with cult legend Robyn Hitchcock, who has been Swift's musical and romantic partner for several years (here they are performing Dylan together in 2016), and who also contributes guitar, no doubt helped get these last tracks done. 

But the true star is Swift's voice, clear as an Appalachian spring, or whatever the Australian equivalent may be, as that is from whence she hailed before settling in Nashville. She seems hardwired into the emotional through-line of each song, whether stone-cold classics like Queen Jane Approximately or neglected gems like Going Going Gone. Perhaps even more audacious than jumping right into I Contain Multitudes is Swift's magisterial take on Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands. Her singing is both finely concentrated and at ease throughout its length, jaw-dropping when you think about it. Swift is far from running out of gas with Dylan, either - when she performed the album live at Grimey's a few weeks ago, she added a deeply affecting take on I've Made My Mind Up To Give Myself To You, another track from Rough and Rowdy Ways. I'm hitting refresh on Bandcamp, hoping she releases it as a single. Unlike many covers albums that arise from a place of contrivance, this album carries with it the weight of something that simply had to be. If you're looking for "folklore" from someone named Swift, look no further than Blonde On The Tracks.

Christopher Trapani - Waterlines Avid readers of AnEarful will be familiar with my rhapsodic response to Trapani's brilliant piece, whether in concert or on record, connecting instantly with his collage-like approach to old blues and country songs. So I'm like a kid in a candy store as I absorb a second world-class recording, this one by Belgium's Ictus Ensemble featuring Christie Finn, an American soprano. Their version differs somewhat from Talea Ensemble's world-premiere recording and may even have benefited from their example in that it's a bit more naturalistic. If you didn't know Trapani was behind it, you could almost think this was just a group of supremely skilled musicians who had an unusual approach to these songs that they loved. A bonus on the Ictus album is Trapani's Two Folksong Distortions, which has him deconstructing Wayfaring Stranger and Freight Train to remarkable effect. As sung by Liesa Van der Aa who also plays violin, accompanied by Tom Pauwel's guitars, they have a wonderfully hazy quality, like a photo printed out of register. This is my first exposure to Van der Aa and now I want to hear her interpret Dylan! In the meantime, I'll enjoy her work here while also exploring her album, Easy Alice, released this past February. It's so rare that the cream of contemporary composition gets more than one recording. Show your appreciation for this embarrassment of riches by diving deep into both versions of Waterlines.

Billie Eilish - Live At Third Man Records Billie Eilish became as famous on eBay as she is everywhere else when Third Man Records released the first pressing of this acoustic show in-store only. As I don't live in Nashville or Detroit, nor have infinite funds, I bided my time and, voila, look what Record Store Day brought me! So was the 10-track LP worth the wait? Mostly yes. While I could tell that her songs (co-written with her brother Finneas, who accompanies her here) had the bones to be presented in any number of arrangements, it's nice to be proven right by these stripped-down versions. Bury A Friend, Come Out And Play, and I Love You probably work best but there are no sore thumbs here. Her stage presence is great, too, warm and slightly bemused by all the love she's getting from the audience. The only caveat here is the audience, in fact, as they are very loud when showing their appreciation or when singing along. This works a treat in my bootleg from Sydney's Horndern Pavilion in front of 5,500 people, but in this setting it seems a little...extra. This could have been helped in the mix, but part of the point of these Third Man recordings is that they are raw and uncut. As a souvenir of Eilish's first flush of stardom, I think this will only accrue value, and I don't mean monetarily. That's possible as well, with all 17,000 copies of this pressing already in the hands of either happy owners (like me) or resellers. If you're a fan, it's a must.

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Saturday, December 14, 2019

Best Of 2019: The Top 25


“Where there is doubt, there can be no doubt,” Robert De Niro said in Ronin and that becomes my guiding principle around this time of the year as I confront the conundrum of what ends up on this list that wasn’t on the mid-year Top 25 - and what drops off. Much of it comes down to what I listened to the most, usually a sure sign that it belongs here. But there were a couple of things I played over and over, hoping they would connect fully, eventually admitting they were mostly excellent, even life-giving, but they had a moment or two that caused doubt. And where there is doubt there can be no doubt.

Looking back, I’m somewhat surprised to see three-fifths of the list coming out of the realms of rock, folk, pop, etc.,  but I just have to accept that that’s what I needed to get through. There's also a clue in the fact that 305 of the 812 tracks - nearly 40% - I put into my general Of Note playlist were sorted into the Rock, Folk, Etc. playlist. To anyone affronted by what dropped from that July list, I will firmly say, It’s not them, it’s me. And don’t forget, there are many "Best Of" lists yet to come as I try to pay homage to another great year for music. 

Listen to selections from each album here or below. As usual, if I’ve previously written about a record, click the link to learn more about why it’s here. 











9. Angel Olsen - All Mirrors Funny how you can still be surprised by how much an artist can surprise you, even when they have traveled as far from their roots as Olsen did between Burn Your Fire For No Witness (2014, #15/20) and My Woman (2016, #17/20). But that was the case when I first heard the audacity of All Mirrors, still a jaw-dropping experience these many listens later. Connecting with two composer/arrangers, Jherek Bischoff and Ben Babbitt, who both straddle the worlds of classical, rock, and soundtracks, was a genius move as they contribute wildly creative string arrangements that dominate a number of songs. Babbitt co-wrote all the music with Olsen, which is the first time she has collaborated to that extent, and played a good number of instruments on the album. Producer John Congleton does a fantastic job of blending all the organic and synthetic sounds. 

Olsen doubles down on her retro-futurist torch singer persona, coming on like Julee Cruise’s cyborg progeny, hyper-emotional, and with a superhuman power. She has found new dimensions to her voice as well, wielding each tone, texture, and timbre with astonishing control. Like all of her albums, All Mirrors  touches on elemental subjects of love, friendship, and self-actualization, making for a richly immersive song-cycle that seems to only expand as it grows more familiar. A triumph for Angel Olsen and a wonderful addition to what is already one of the most rewarding discographies of the decade. 


11. Starcrawler - Devour You That part of the thrill provided by the short, sharp, shriek of their debut was untapped potential is firmly proven by Devour You, which succeeds even beyond my wildest expectations. The LA quartet were no doubt helped by producer Nick Launay (Bad Seeds, Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, etc.), far more skilled in the studio than Ryan Adams. Time on the road has lent both solidity and swing to the rhythm section of Austin Smith (drums) and Tim Franco (bass) - listen to them groove on “You Dig Yours” - while wunderkind guitarist Henri Cash now has the most exciting riffing hand in the business. But he also has developed the musicality to create layered parts full of fine detail and raw power. Then there is Arrow de Wilde, who shows herself equally at home fearlessly snarling out sarcasm as she is sending a soaring ballad(!) like “Born Asleep” into the stratosphere. The variety in the songwriting shows not only ambition but a deep engagement with the history of rock. Unlike an earlier generation of punked out rockers, they don’t want to burn it all down - but they do want to light a little fire under a genre where introspection may be easier to find than instigation and inspiration. But don’t get it twisted. While Starcrawler may be showing signs of maturity and nuance in concert they’re still the same filth-peddling, blood-spewing circus they’ve always been. On Devour You, the combination of those primal urges with a bit more sophistication is nothing short of intoxicating. 













24. Kanye West - Jesus Is King Back In 2004, I put one foot in front of the other to Jesus Walks. The fact that I got to work ready to do my job every day I owe at least in part to the strength I got from West's classic track and the album it came from. Then, in 2010, after a string of good albums (interrupted by 808's and Heartbreaks), he gave us My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, in the running for album of the century. It pulled me through a long winter and, while I can't remember what was stressing me at the time, I know MBDTF helped the situation. The point is, when you connect with the work of an artist on these levels, you give them the benefit of the doubt. Yeezus was another stunner, angry shards of glass aimed at every target in sight, including himself. The Life Of Pablo, scattered as it was, gave us hints of strength among the sorrows and lousy laugh lines. Then came Ye, undoubtedly the worst project West ever put his name to, only partially redeemed by Kids See Ghosts, his collaboration with Kid Cudi from the same year. Despite all the self-instigated click-bait madness that accompanies West everywhere, I still go back to those old records and get what I need. Now we have converted Kanye, not an automatic deal-breaker even if there are references to “prosperity gospel” that rub this atheist/socialist the wrong way. After all, I have included gospel music in my listening since I was hooked by a Mahalia Jackson LP I pulled out of the stacks at my local library almost 40 years ago. 

I don’t feel I have to defend what I like to anyone, so I’ll just say that I get some of the old West fire on Jesus Is King combined with the inspiring energy of the African American gospel tradition. While this is not a straight-up masterpiece like Dylan's Slow Train Coming, the listening experience - for a West fan, anyway - is not dissimilar. Part of the energy comes from what seems to be a disordered mind, like the way the first song, Every Hour, starts just a tad in progress, as if someone un-paused the tape recorder after the song began. There are other weirdnesses (“Chick-Fil-A”??) and hints of the under-cooked quality that has become an unfortunate signature of West’s work since Pablo. On the other hand, Jesus Is King contains some of West’s finest vocal work ever, whether rapping tight to the groove of Follow God or emoting soulfully on God Is. As for guests, the most impressive is the team-up of a reunited Clipse with Kenny G. on Use This Gospel, the kind of left-field combo that is the glory of the best hip hop since the Bronx schoolyard days. I am drinking deep from this cup, taking the bitter with the sweet, and wondering where the journey goes next. 


If I’ve introduced you to something you didn’t know you needed, let me know! Don’t see your favorite here? Tell me all about that, too. It just may be on an upcoming genre-specific list. Stay tuned for the whole series, encompassing:
But not necessarily in that order, which will only add to the fun. This is supposed to be fun, right?!?




Saturday, July 13, 2019

Best Of 2019 (So Far)


These lists are hard because I feel that everything I’ve written about this year is among the best music of our times. And there are also some things I’m sure are excellent but haven’t had the chance to really listen to. To all the composers, musicians, bands, ensembles and labels who have shared their creativity I say, paraphrasing Pusha T and Rick Ross: I got you - hold on. Still, it is undeniably interesting to take stock at the year's halfway point and note either what I’ve listened to a lot but haven’t yet covered or to acknowledge a few very recent releases that have quickly muscled their way into being essential. You’ll see some of both below in a list of the 25 albums that have helped get me through 2019 so far. Enough of my yakking - on with the show!

Note: If I’ve covered the album in a previous post, just click the link to read my thoughts. 









I haven’t yet watched the film Yorke made with Paul Thomas Anderson to accompany this album, but such is the intimacy and intrigue of these tracks that I get the sense that Yorke knows the biggest screen of all is on the interior of our foreheads. While using many of the same lushly minimalist textures as his first two solo albums, there is a warmth and emotional generosity to these songs that feels new, even if rooted in the more plain spoken parts of A Moon Shaped Pool. I would hesitate to call any work by this consummate artist “revealing” but I will say that he’s letting us in on another aspect of his talent and that is more than enough. 

Seeing this young Philly band live at Pioneer Works last month only served to solidify my feelings about how great they are. While their music, full of distorted guitars, shiny synths and driving rhythms can be brainy and fractured, witnessing their utter joy as they bounced around the stage was a minor miracle and helped me connect to that lightness of being on the album. While there are no left turns from their previous releases, there’s also a greater focus on craft when it comes both to the song-like parts and the sparkly excursions into ambience. Right here is the sound of a group hitting its potential across all metrics. Grab on to the album and catch them in concert ASAP. 





In which the boys from Brazil go further down the studio rabbit hole, constructing collage-like tracks that go some distance from their jammed out stage show. But the tunes are still there, maybe a bit buried but characteristically sweet. Following the development of this band has been a true delight and I hope to see how they work with this material live when they hit the rooftop at Industry City on September 4th with Mdou Moctar - a killer bill to end the summer!

Gibbs made hay with Madlib on Piñata in 2014 and nothing he’s done since has hit the same heights  - until now. Something about working with one of the great producers of all time brings out the best in Gibbs, who, instead of deferring to a legend tries to meet him halfway. As Gibbs himself noted: "I feel like you gotta bring your 'A’ game to really shine on his beats, or his beat is going to outshine you. It’s definitely a challenge. You can’t just come any kind of way on these beats, you gotta really make a marriage to ‘em and live with 'em." So, instead of coasting on his grittiness, Gibbs dazzles with a flow that hits a variety of tempos and mixes up the content with political observations and street lit. He shines when he gets personal, too, as in Situations: "1989, I seen a ni**a bleed/Uncle stabbed him in the neck and hit his knees/Turned the arcade to a stampede/I was playin' Pac-Man, Centipede/Put me on some shit I never should've seen." He also has the guts to share the mic on Palmolive with Killer Mike and Pusha-T, who both come loaded for bear, making it one of the great posse cuts of recent memory. I don't know the logistics of the hook-up between Gibbs and Madlib, but I sure hope it happens again because Bandana is a classic.

17. Mark de Clive-Lowe - Heritage and Heritage II 
I will admit to following the career of MdCL for years with admiration for his skills as a keyboard player and producer without being entirely sure exactly what he does. Sure, he was always in the hippest place at the hippest time, but who was he? It all comes into focus on these two extraordinary albums of expansive jazz-funk. The “heritage” referred to is MdCL’s Japanese roots, with each track’s title drawn from cultural reference of importance in his life. Hence we get tracks like Memories of Nanzenji, inspired by a 13th Century temple in Kyoto, and Akatombo (Red Dragonfly), based on a popular folk melody his mother used to sing to him. The music is sometimes spacey and drifting, at other times knotty and propulsive, often building up a head of steam after a moody start. The minor key melodies and overall gloss can't help but remind me of Steely Dan, in a welcome if distant echo. Everything is driven by the sensitive and powerful drumming of Brandon Combs, with strong contributions also coming from Josh Johnson (sax/flute), Teodross Avery (sax), Brandon Eugene Owens (bass), and Carlos Nino (percussion). But MdCL is the star, doing stellar work on all manner of keyboards and composing all the tracks, in a triumph of imagination and sheer musicianship. Now I know exactly who he is and what he does and I can't get enough of it.

18. Elsa Hewitt - Citrus Paradisi

19. Baroness - Gold & Gray
In the four years since the release of their last album, Purple, which found the metal band incorporating a new rhythm section after their bus accident, they have had yet more personnel changes. Peter Adams, who had been their lead guitarist since 2008, left to concentrate on his other band Valkyrie (among other things) and was replaced by Gina Gleason. She's had a checkered career, from Cirque du Soleil to bands that covered Metallica (Misstallica!) and King Diamond. As worrisome as that may sound, she has more than enough grit in her glamour to complement the playing of leader John Baizley while engaging in furious interaction with bassist Nick Jost and drummer Sebastian Thomson. She may have also helped push the group to further diversify their already broad palette of sound, adding a cleaner vocal dimension to the harmonies in the process. Whatever the reason, Gold & Gray is the most high-contrast album of their career, with glassy vignettes like Crooked Mile smash-cut into absolutely scorching cuts like Broken Halo. It's a head-spinning journey that feels somehow cleansing, with their most beautiful textures constantly being obliterated by some of their nastiest. While the emotions are always strong, the heart of the album is probably three songs near the middle: Anchor's Lament, Throw Me An Anchor, and I'd Do Anything. Given that the chorus of the last is "I'd do anything to feel alive again," it's obvious the near-death experience of the accident is woven into the core of Baizley's artistic expression forevermore. Whatever he needs to do to work out his grief, he's surrounded by stalwart companions and giving so much of himself to us listeners that it's easy to be humbled and grateful as you stand in awe of Baroness's rock majesty. Long may they reign.

20. Cass McCombs - Tip Of The Sphere

21. Crumb - Jinx
This Brooklyn via Boston band amassed a rabid following (including me) on the basis of two EP's of wobbly psych-funk so anticipation has been running high for their debut album. Jinx continues to deliver on their addictive style; if anything it finds their grooves ever more precise and their melodies more engagingly serpentine, adding up to a series of transporting tunes. At under 30 minutes, the trip may still be too short, but it's one you'll want to take often. Also, they stretch out in concert - catch them for free on August 8th in NYC.

22. Car Seat Headrest - Commit Yourself Completely
I've been yammering on about what a great live band this is since I saw them in 2017 and now here's recorded proof! Even though these nine songs were recorded in seven different spaces, it feels like a coherent document of their dramatically dynamic approach to Will Toledo's conception of post-alternative indie rock. Even the shorter songs are full of epic vibes and their mastery of the slow build only adds to the cathartic feels when they hit full throttle. All of the songs save one come from Teens Of Denial (2016) and Twin Fantasy (2011/2018), which means they're drawn from Toledo's strongest material. One could quibble about the omission of Unforgiving Girl (She's Not An), which was one highlight of the show I saw. The one cover, of Frank Ocean's Ivy, is great but maybe not as revelatory as their take on Bowie's Teenage Wildlife, an interpretation that blew me away in concert. Minor details. This is a fantastic album that will have you jumping up and down as you play it at maximum volume. Your  neighbors might complain - or knock on your door to join you. P.S. Keep an eye out for a tour date near you.

23. C. Duncan - Health

24. Michel Chapman True North

25. Edwyn Collins - Badbea

Listen to a track from all of these albums in this playlist or below. Any of these on your list?



You may also enjoy:
The Best Of 2018 (So Far)
Best Of 2017 (So Far)
Best Of 2016 (So Far), Pt. 1
Best Of 2016 (So Far), Pt. 2
The Best Of 2015 (So Far)
2014: Mid-Year Report
The Best Of 2013 (So Far)