Showing posts with label Madlib. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Madlib. Show all posts

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, March 14, 2021

Celebrating 2021: New Year, New Music


Like a drone in the intro to Painting With John (essential viewing, btw), I have flown free of 2020's music only to crash in a dense thicket of 2021 releases. And it's not that I haven't been listening, it's that I've been listening to SO MUCH. Where to begin? For this first post, I'm going to wend my way instinctively through what has captivated me the most for a multi-genre celebration of the year so far. I'll catch up with more later!

Tak Ensemble - Taylor Brook: Star Maker Fragments “All this long human story, most passionate and tragic in the living, was but an unimportant, a seemingly barren and negligible effort, lasting only for a few moments in the life of the galaxy." Only the most arrogant among us would argue with this sentiment from Star Maker, the 1937 science fiction book by Olaf Stapledon that provides the basis for this latest gem from Tak and Brook. But I will say that if this "barren and negligible effort" we're all living through includes sublime art like this album, I'm good.

From the off-kilter clarion of the opening chord, it's obvious that you're in the hands of a masterpiece - and one that's masterfully performed. The toughest part for others to imitate will be Charlotte Mundy's delivery of the spoken word excerpts from the text. Her voice is both perfectly controlled and naturalistic, with enough musicality that you can let your mind touch down on the content or just let it become part of the sound world. Brook's ingenuity in scoring is critical, too, of course, and you will marvel at how he "plays" the ensemble (Laura Cocks, flute; Madison Greenstone, clarinet; Marina Kifferstein, violin; and Ellery Trafford, percussion) like more keys on his synthesizer, eliciting novel blends of sound at every turn. In 2016, I sang the praises of Ecstatic Music, which was a remarkable collection by these same collaborators, but I was still slightly unprepared for how great this is - don't say I didn't warn you!

Sid Richardson - Borne By A Wind This captivating debut portrait album from Richardson also features a piece inspired by literature. In this case it's the poetry of Nathanial Mackey, whose radio-ready narration enlivens the five-movements of Red Wind. The words are as evocative as the music, which moves in cinematic fashion through different scenes and moods. The performance by Deviant Septet could not be improved and Richardson's writing for jazz in a classical setting is the equal of Shostakovich's, except it swings a little harder. The album also includes There is no sleep so deep, and elegiac piece for solo piano, played here by Conrad Tao, and LUNE, for violin and fixed media, including field recordings of loon cries, which are perfectly integrated into the sounds of the violin. Lilit Hartunian's performance is deeply engaging. Finally, we have Astrolabe, a sparkling piece for six instruments given a dazzling run by the Da Capo Chamber Players, who gamely shout and whisper the excerpts from Chaucer and Whitman sprinkled throughout. I note that the most recent recording here is from 2017 so all gratitude to New Focus for bringing this remarkable music to light.

Susie Ibarra - Talking Gong While I'm distressed to see how much I've missed from this marvelous percussionist and composer (including an album with genius pianist Sylvie Courvoisier in 2014!), this album ruthlessly dispels negative thoughts. Whether through minimalist, modal or even romantically lush piano (Alex Peh), playful flute (Claire Chase), or inventive percussion - or all three at once - there is much bliss to be had by immersing yourself in Ibarra's intersectional vision. 

Patricia Brennan - Maquishti Despite its gentle sonic profile, this is a bold album that will likely define the vibraphone and marimba for our current era. Like Michael Nicolas's Transitions did for the cello in 2016, Brennan's music both exemplifies the qualities of her instruments and moves them into new territory. For the latter, look no further than Episodes, in which woozy electronics transform the vibe's tones into gooey lozenges of sound that you may find yourself reaching for in the air. For a more classic, er, vibe, the opening cut, Blame It, seems to pick up where Dave Samuels left off, for a deeply chill exploration of hanging notes, meandering chords, and glittering arpeggiations. While each piece is no longer than your average indie-rock song, Maquishti adds up to an hour-long sound cycle that rarely flags in interest and provides a much-needed oasis in these anxiety-ridden times.

Adam Morford & Anne Leilehua Lanzilotti - Yesterday Is Two Days Ago In which stellar violist Lanzilotti collaborates with Morford, guitarist and creator of the Marvin series of sound sculptures, for a series of improvisations that are unafraid of the dark. The title track is a droning and atmospheric epic that conceivably could have inspired Scott Walker to follow up Soused by working with these two. Never less than fascinating, this shows off a side of Lanzilotti's interests that feels completely new and one that should attract listeners from an array of genres - I know it hits more than one of my sweet spots.

Amanda Berlind - Green Cone A hazy combo of low-fi piano, electronics, voice, and field recordings, this reminds me a bit of Elsa Hewitt - but in all the best ways. There's also a visual album and a comic book - feast your eyes - and a bonus track commissioned and played by the Bang On A Can All-Stars that explodes into jazzy instrumental pop (albeit with loud birdsong), further proof that Berlind is one to watch.

Foudre! - Future Sabbath With a title like that you may be expecting starlit drones to accompany some new, previously unimaginable ritual. And you would be dead-on, as this band of European electronic experts (including Nahal founder Frédéric D. Oberland and Paul Regimbeau of Good Luck In Death), improvises their way into a gleaming web of sound. It also seems tailor-made for a space travel epic, especially one populated by murderous machines or alienated astronauts. You may want to keep the lights on.

Madlib - Sound Ancestors Selected and sequenced by electronic musician Kieran Hebden (Four Tet), this is as cogent and concise a representation of Madlib's divine madness as we're likely to get. And by that, I mean it's wonderfully all over the place, weaving together everything from obscure psych-rock to the Young Marble Giants and field-recorded urban chants, for a more than persuasive rattle around the master's head.

Shame - Drunk Tank Pink Shame made a splash across the pond and in my world with their 2018 debut, Songs Of Praise, which hit my Top 25 for that year with its canny update on post-punk. Three years later, their confidence has grown and they are now able to dig into and expand on their angular grooves in a way that's even more deeply involving. While the lyrics sometimes seem simplistic ("What you see is what you get/I still don't know the alphabet" is the opening line of the album), there is character and conviction in Charlie Steen's vocals as he seeks to pare communication down to only the essentials. No sophomore slump here - Shame seem to be in it for the long haul and, on the back of this terrific album, they are even higher on my list of post-pandemic must-see bands.

Cassandra Jenkins - An Overview Of Phenomenal Nature Jenkins has a dusky, intimate voice and seems to be singing to one person at a time on this gorgeous and, at 31 minutes, too-brief album. With production (and most playing) by Josh Kaufman, the sonic environment is sensitively built around Jenkins' singing and songs, with the instruments forming an almost distant bed of sound. Her melodies are sturdy enough that no more is necessary to define these personal vignettes. But as personal as they feel, the spoken-word of Hard Drive serves as a reminder that Jenkins is at heart a storyteller. As Stuart Bogie's sax wends its way through the changes, Jenkins talks us through her day and the people she encounters, gradually building to an incandescent finish. This whole album shines quietly.

Fruit Bats - The Pet Parade People are saying this is a high watermark in the 20-year career of Eric D. Johnson and Fruit Bats. I wouldn't know as I have allowed myself to remain only dimly aware of his progress over the years. I'm not really sure why - maybe it was the name, or maybe I heard an early song and couldn't get into his quirky voice. It wasn't until I fell desperately in love with Bonny Light Horseman, the alliance between Johnson, Josh Kaufman (him again!), and Anais Mitchell in 2020, that I was like, this is him, the Fruit Bats guy? So, when the first single was released from The Pet Parade, I was on it and loved it right away. Kaufman's production could not be more beautiful, with rich skeins of acoustic guitars, dazzling instrumental touches (the guitar solo on Holy Rose is a tiny, intricate wonder), and, only when called for, a certain grandeur. 

Johnson's songwriting draws from a deep well of Americana and British Folk, but his melodies feel both fresh and completely inevitable. Lyrically, he manages to convey a lot with a few words, as in the opening of Cub Pilot: "She is looking out the living room window/Watching Saturday become Sunday/Coyotes by the garbage cans/Howling in the driveway." He is also unafraid of going right for the gut, as in this verse from On The Avalon Stairs: "Today a little further from the shore/And maybe tomorrow/Into the volcano you go/It's hard to say, but all you know/Is that you got no kids to take/Your ashes to the lake." As for his voice, it's still highly distinctive, but he is in complete control and his inventive phrasing makes nearly any words intensely moving. For a perfect example, listen to how he turns "Gullwing doors" into an incantation in the song of the same name. I can't speak for his previous albums (give me time), but Johnson takes a firm place in the front ranks of American songwriters with The Pet Parade.

Find songs from all these albums and follow along with my 2021 listening in these playlists:

You may also enjoy:



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?!?