Showing posts with label Karl Larson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Karl Larson. Show all posts

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
Best Of Ten
A Blog Is Born: Best Of 2009









Monday, July 05, 2021

The Best Of 2021 (So Far)


The year's halfway point is a good opportunity to take stock of the music that has been animating my year, some of which I haven't had a chance to write about yet. As always, what constitutes the "best" is simply what has demanded repeat listening because of the way it connects to my heart, soul, brain, and body, not necessarily due to a higher level of "excellence" than the other music I've written about. Here goes nothin'!

Previously covered albums are linked to their original review. Click play here or on the playlist below to listen while you read.

1. Fruit Bats - The Pet Parade

2. Hiss Golden Messenger - Quietly Blowing It

3. Scott Wollschleger & Karl Larson - Dark Days

4. Elsa Hewitt - Lupa "Rivers and streams feeding my dreams," Hewitt sings in Car In The Sun, a line that captures everything I love about her music. Part of the reality of flowing water is that it's "never the same twice" - but, just as the Thames is always the Thames, Hewitt's music is always an invitation to a universe of wondrously hazy electronic ethereality, familiar from album to album, but never precisely the same. The fact that I'm quoting lyrics when talking about Lupa is one aspect of what makes it a new step for her: eight of the nine tracks have lyrics, when usually the opposite is true. Often any singing she does is wordless, another texture in the layers of gauze she assembles. While she's still swathing her voice in reverb, you can read along with the words either on Bandcamp or within the j-card of the limited-edition cassette. Just as her music maps out a luscious interiority, occasionally defined by beats, her lyrics have the immediacy of conversation and the intimacy of a journal entry, like these opening words from Howl: "What am I up to?/I'm just upstairs, trying to cope with/Heavy wordless love in my chest/How do I continue? How?" In addition to this extra content, the rhythms are often more intricate and defined than they have been, a drift towards the shiny lights of pop music, and one which feels entirely organic. Squirrelex opens with another lyric that feels like a mission statement: "i am warm but not too warm/i am on a journey that i adore/i am like a shaman on mtv/the cameras obstructed by fog." I adore her journey, too, in all its warmth, chill, and fog.

5. Tak Ensemble - Taylor Brook: Star Maker Fragments

6. Jane Weaver - Flock

7. Domenico Lancelotti - Raio

8. Madlib - Sound Ancestors

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

10. Sō Percussion and Friends - Julius Eastman: Stay On It

11. Dry Cleaning - New Long Leg

12. Wavefield Ensemble - Concrete & Void

13. Faye Webster - I Know I'm Funny HaHa In my review of her third album, Atlanta Millionaire's Club, I noted that Webster could almost be Natalie Prass's little sister. Now, on her lush fourth album, she inched even closer, recording some of it at Spacebomb Studios and engaging Trey Pollard, their in-house polymath, to conduct some of the arrangements. By leaning further into to her country-soul inclinations she also seems ever closer to her genuine self. One of my favorite songs is Kind Of, which also seems to be a deep cut, at least if Spotify play counts are to be believed. With an organ and pedal steel dueling for the stars and a guiro's ratchet sound driving the rhythm, she ends the song by repeating the chorus, "And I feel kind of tucked away," for over a minute before relinquishing the song to the music. It's as if she casting a spell - and I'm entranced. Kind Of leads into to Cheers, which has a grungy strut yet manages to retain a delirious melancholy, the two songs forming the backbone of her most consistent album yet. And I haven't even mentioned the brilliant Better Distractions, which even managed to attract the attention of Barack Obama, or whoever creates his playlists, when it was released as a single in 2020. I do admit that my devotion to this album is not hurt at all by the fact that Prass hasn't released anything in three years. It's not that one replaces the other - and I hope Prass is OK - but they hit similar sweet spots. And it's one of my sweet spots that needs attention!

14. Mallu Magalhães - Esperança If you want to know what a smile sounds like, listen to Magalhães sing "Chin-chin-chin chin-chin chin-chin-chin" on the chorus of Barcelona from her fifth album. You will soon be smiling yourself, whatever mood you were in when you started listening. As she revealed on Facebook, the album was completed over a year ago, but she just could not see launching it in the midst of the world's troubles. That's a debatable point, but the good news is that we now have this lighter than air confection to propel us through whatever comes next. Recorded in Portugal and co-produced by her fellow Brazilian Mario Caldato, Jr., Esperança finds Magalhães perfecting her sublime blend of bossa nova, fifties-inflected pop, soul, funk, jazz, and folk. Look no further for a direct injection of pure pleasure.

15. Christopher Cerrone - The Arching Path

16. Raoul Vignal - Years In Marble As on his exquisite second album, 2018's Oak Leaf, Vignal's latest finds him generating rainswept bliss with his fingerpicked guitar, hushed voice, and the sensitive drums and percussion of Lucien Chatin. However, Vignal, who also plays bass, synth, sax and bamboo flute on the album, is also coming out of the shadows a bit, with more uptempo songs and an increased dynamism to his sound. To Bid The Dog Goodbye, for example, has flourishes (electric guitar! bongos!) and stopped-tempo moves that evince a subtle drama. But the core of it all is that guitar, which he plays with the off-hand perfection of a Michael Chapman or Nick Drake. After honing his craft for the last three years, Vignal should be top of mind for anyone seeking the finest in contemporary singers, songwriters, and guitarists.

17. Anika Pyle - Wild River

18. Tyler, The Creator - Call Me If You Get Lost With 2019's Igor, Tyler arrived at a new pinnacle of creativity and emotional connection, a trajectory he continues with this kaleidoscopic album. His ability to bare his soul while sailing over a multitude of genres, from synth-pop to RnB to lovers rock, with a casual virtuosity is truly remarkable. Similar to Frank Ocean, who makes an uncredited appearance here, Tyler is trying to reconcile where he is now - and who he is now - with where he came from. But he avoids solipsism by letting in the outside world through well-deployed guest spots, which do nothing to reduce the individuality of his achievement. One key feature is a voice memo from his mother describing her devotion in no uncertain terms: "I'd stand in front of a bullet, on God, over this one." Her concern somehow becomes ours and strengthens the bond between listener and artist. The centerpiece of the album is the nearly 10-minute Sweet/I Thought You Wanted To Dance, in which he transforms two well-traveled songs (this one and this one) into a two-part suite of love and loss that dazzles in all directions. As a producer, Tyler is like a painter who chooses just the right color from a polychrome palette. In addition to the transformed samples, he adds RnB singers Brent Faiyaz and Fana Hues as the perfect surrogate and foil, respectively, to illustrate the story. Tyler's ambition is as massive as his talent and, at this point, it's hard to imagine the former outstripping the latter. After Madlib, this is the hip hop album of the year - and number three is not even close!

19. Ben Seretan - Cicada Waves

20. Patricia Brennan - Maquishti

21. Amy Helm - What The Flood Leaves Behind

22. Adam Morford & Anne Leilehua Lanzilotti - Yesterday Is Two Days Ago

23. Cassandra Jenkins - An Overview On Phenomenal Nature

24. Mndsgn - Rare Pleasure Sometimes an artist has to go backwards to move forward. Or something like that. Whatever the lesson, this third album from the composer, singer, and producer Ringgo Ancheta delivers on all the promise in his first, 2014's Yawn Zen in ways I couldn't even imagine, especially after Body Wash, the disappointing follow up from 2016. Richly immersive from the opening seconds, Mndsgn constructs something like the Muzak from a divine elevator, jazzy, woozy, and soulful sounds that seem to beg you to find a hammock immediately and just sway along. While wonderful, Yawn Zen, was just the bare bones of his heavenly vision. Inviting brilliant collaborators like arranger Miguel Atwood-Ferguson to help realize those ideas is just one reason Rare Pleasure succeeds on all levels - and lives up to its title perfectly.

25. Arooj Aftab - Vulture Prince

Keep up with all my listening across all genres in these playlists: 
Of Note In 2021
Of Note In 2021 (Classical)
Of Note In 2021 (Electronic)
Of Note In 2021 (Hip Hop, R&B & Reggae)
Of Note In 2021 (Jazz, Latin & Global)
Of Note In 2021 (Rock, Folk, Etc.)
Of Note In 2021 (Out Of The Past)

You may also enjoy:
Best Of 2020 (So Far)
Best Of 2019 (So Far)
The Best Of 2018 (So Far)
Best Of 2017 (So Far)

AnEarful acknowledges that this work is created on the traditional territory of the Munsee Lenape and Wappinger peoples.

Sunday, April 25, 2021

Record Roundup: Chiaroscuro


There are times when unremittingly bleak music can provide necessary catharsis. At other times - like our current moment, I believe - a more nuanced sound world can give us the sound support we need. The five excellent releases below all include some light with their shade. 

Scott Wollschleger & Karl Larson - Dark Days Played with deep engagement by Larson, a longtime collaborator, this series of short piano pieces works together so seamlessly you might think they were all part of a longer work. But that's more due to the expert assembly of the album rather than a sameness of tone, texture, or mood. While the bleak outlook implied by the title does leach into that work, the overall sensation is one of quiet yet glimmering contemplation. Although I don't have synesthesia, unlike Wollschleger (who uses the "colors of sound" in his process), I associate the album with iridescent jewel tones that grow more complex the longer you look at them. Pre-release, I spent many a morning with Dark Days, finding it quickly assuming a place in the soundtrack of my 2021. Let it happen for you.

Akropolis Reed Quintet - Ghost Light The sheer sound of this group, made up of oboe, clarinet, saxophone, bassoon, and bass clarinet, is instantly captivating. There's a sublime smoothness of tone, texture, and ensemble that brings to mind the reed sections of great American orchestras like that of Duke Ellington or Glenn Miller. The Akropolis are sure-handed in their curation and collaboration as well, as the five pieces here interact and relate to each other in thought-provoking ways, exploring everything from the Egyptian Book of the Dead to racial violence in their native Detroit. Their choice of composers - all unknown to me except for Jeff Scott who I know as a member of Imani Winds - leads to a wide variety of sonorities and emotional impacts. Stacy Garrop's Rites For The Afterlife, takes us through the narrative of the Egyptian Book of the Dead with an appropriate sense of mystery and even a little Kurt Weillian wit in the third movement, The Hall of Judgement. Kinds of Light by Michael Gilbertson provides portraits in sound for Flicker, Twilight, Fluorescence, and Ultraviolet in colorful fashion, without leaning on the concept too hard. 

In Niloufar Nourbakhsh's Firing Squad - inspired by the first line of One Hundred Years of Solitude - the quartet is mirrored by a recording of themselves, occasionally sounding like an infinite loop. Theo Chandler's Seed To Snag has almost has the whimsy of a classic Disney score as he describes the lifecycle of organic material, adding yet more colors to Akropolis' palette. Scott's piece, Homage To Paradise Valley, closes the album and incorporates spoken word as Marsha Music reads her poems about Detroit's earlier days. Scott's music is tuneful and sparkling, with nods to jazz, and Music's poems are lively and nostalgic, with their tales of her father's record shop and the musical luminaries that put the city on the map. The readings do interrupt the overall flow of the album for this listener and I can imagine programming them out after a few plays, but that's a minor quibble about this powerful artistic statement.

Žibuoklė Martinaitytė - Saudade Given her expert and brilliantly original deployment of small forces on In Search Of Lost Beauty... from 2019, it should be no surprise that this Lithuanian-born composer now presents symphonic works of a similar mastery. Of the four pieces here, perhaps Horizons is the most extraordinary, a gripping and sustained exploration of dynamics and darkness that also highlights the glories of the recording and work of Giedrė Šlekytė and the Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra. Hints of past masters like Sibelius are certainly evident but this absorbing and inventive music is in no way retrograde. Yet it is accessible enough that American orchestras should be clamoring to program Martinaitytė. With Saudade as a calling card I can imagine that happening quite soon.

Christopher Cerrone - A Natural History of Vacant Lots and The Arching Path These two releases feature Cerrone at his most contemplative, with hanging chords, decaying notes, and chord progressions that seem to search their way through personal memories and shared histories. Vacant Lots is a brief piece originally written for percussion quartet and presented here as a solo piece for vibraphone and electronics, played by Andy Meyerson. It works equally well in either setting, perhaps even benefiting from the sonic focus of the solo version. 

The Arching Path (due on May 21st from In A Circle Records) includes four pieces from the last decade, with three of them being deeply embedded in place. The three-movement title piece refers to the Ponte sul Basento, a concrete modernist masterpiece in southern Italy, but Cerrone avoids any of the obvious musical tricks that might imply, instead using a chiming and percussive piano (played by Timo Andres) to unfurl melodies that are deeply affecting while avoiding the sentimentality that can mar the work of Nils Frahm. Double Happiness adds field recordings from Umbria and Cerrone’s lapidary electronics to the soundscape along with percussion played by Ian Rosenbaum. The five movements are distinct in their textures while maintaining a general air of rain-streaked reflection.

I Will Learn To Love Somebody, the third piece, sets five poems by writer-provocateur Tao Lin for soprano (a spectacular, gleaming Lindsay Kesselman), piano, percussion, and clarinet (Mingzhe Wang). It pulls the collection in a slightly more dynamic direction, with leaps in range that recall some of Scott Walker’s dramatic flair - appropriate, when you consider the attention Cerrone is paying to every word. The words themselves combine a conversational style with enough ironic distance to keep them from being diary entries with line breaks. Even without close attention to the words, however, these are gripping art songs that are an even more fabulous showcase for Kesselman's talents than The Pieces That Fall To Earth from the 2019 album of the same name.

The final piece takes us to a New York subway station, Hoyt-Schermerhorn, using piano limned with electronics and evoking an air of solitude, as if during a late night transit where the next train can’t come soon enough. I’m already peering down the tracks, looking for more from Cerrone.

You may also enjoy: 
Record Review: Beauty...And Darkness


AnEarful acknowledges that this work is created on the traditional territory of the Munsee Lenape and Wappinger peoples.