Best Of 2021: Hip Hop, RnB, and Reggae

Last year, I only reviewed two hip hop albums, which must be a record low for me. Both of them - Madlib's Sound Ancestors and Tyler The Creator's Call Me If You Get Lost - were on my Top 25, too. But that doesn't mean I wasn't listening broadly and finding much to love in the genre, which, as Dr. Dre and company further proved on the recent Super Bowl Halftime Show, is as much American music as anything else. RnB and reggae also had their moments, with the former at its best when it didn't sink into cliché or pop cheesiness, and the latter always struggling mightily with its own past. Here, then, are the releases that stood out from the pack. Listen to the mix here or in the playlist below.

Atlas Jenkins - The Doomsday Device The cover announces the ambitions of this album to be nothing less than a hip hop Dark Side Of The Moon, an epic mind movie about the human condition - and it comes very close to succeeding. Kicking off with a monologue from My Dinner With Andre that ends with the warning, "Escape before its too late," Jenkins then proceeds to provide that escape through spacy grooves, a few questing raps, including some standout rhymes from Jack Harlow, and more monologues from the likes of astronaut Frank Borman (which seems to cast back to another progenitor, DJ Shadow's Endtroducing) and Jethro Tull's Ian Anderson. There's also a cover of the Beastie Boys' Flute Loop cooked up with sax/flute maven Benny Reid. Another collaborator is Preston Crump, known for contributing gooey bass lines to records by Outkast, Raphael Saadiq, and others. But overarching it all is the vision of Jenkins, who in his day job as an ICU nurse is pursuing the intersection of music and medicine. Take a dose of The Doomsday Device - it's over the counter but strictly prescription strength.

81355 - This Time I'll Be Of Use Pronounce it "BLESS." Indie hip hop from Indy, brought to my attention via Justin Vernon & co.'s 37dO3d (pronounced "PEOPLE") label. Production by Sedcairn Archives is both spare and sparkly, underpinning moody, reality-grounded raps and soaring sung choruses by Sirius Blvck and Oreo Jones. Their struggles and joys seem to become my own - pop music transference.

Kanye West - Donda While Donda continues the troubled trajectory of releases since 2013's Yeezus, West's last true masterpiece, this is more coherent than The Life Of Pablo, more varied than Jesus Is King, and better in every respect than Ye. It's also less approachable than Pablo and lacks JIK's concision. Filled with broad-stroke minimalism that has simple, repetitive structures blown up to arena size, there is an almost operatic or cinematic scale to everything here. In a sort of musical imperialism, some songs overstay their welcome or recur in alternate versions barely distinguishable from the originals. That said, there are more than a couple of real winners here, including Jail, Hurricane, Believe What I Say, Jesus Lord, Keep My Spirit Alive, and Lord I Need You, all of which have emotionally-connected raps and memorable melodic elements. As much as I loathe some of the people involved here (Da Baby and Marilyn Manson, to name two), perhaps there's a message in their inclusion about not being judged only by your worst acts. Musically speaking, they're essentially unnoticeable among the overall grandeur. If there's one thing West seems to have lost since 2013, it might be a ruthlessness toward his own art - something none of his collaborators have been able to inculcate again. Still, an utterly fascinating listen from a man whose talent remains formidable despite the surrounding chaos.

Isaiah Rashad - The House Is Burning "Weed couldn't settle my fire/Couldn't cover my pain," Rashad raps over the melancholy backing of Headshots (4r Da Locals), a standout track from his long-awaited third album. Unlike the tentative moves of 2016's The Sun's Tirade, this one finds him confident in himself, embracing joy, sorrow, anger, and lust in equal measure. He also displays a dazzling variety of flows, from staccato spitting to relaxed rhyming. While the gap between albums slowed his momentum, there's nothing stopping him now.

Conway The Machine and Big Ghost LTD - If It Bleeds It Can Be Killed
Conway The Machine - La Maquina  
The problem with this Buffalo-based rapper/producer is not that his rapid output dilutes his talent, but that he so damned consistent that he demands you keep up. Even as I write this, he has another great album out. That said, there are matters of degree and even by his standards, La Maquina is ahead of the pack. Whether chewing the mic on Blood Roses or uplifting the crowd on Grace (both featuring Jae Skeese, another product of Buffalo), Conway is fully in command. Don't be turned off by the long list of guests, there's no doubt who is calling the shots. Along with work for Conway, Big Ghost also produced The Lost Tapes by Ghostface Killah, and while If It Bleeds... is not as monumentally scuzzy, it's hypnotic and dank, giving the rappers plenty to work with, and they take full advantage for a thrilling ride.

Mach-Hommy - Pray For Haiti and Balens Cho (Hot Candles) Even more so than Conway The Machine, with whom he is connected through the Griselda collective, this NJ-based, Port Au Prince-rooted rapper is building a world of his own. Mostly working in obscurity (his real name is still unknown) since 2004, he emerged big-time with these two albums in 2021. Featuring woozy beats, off-center punchlines, and highly personal reflections alongside outlandish boasts - sometimes in Haitian Creole - both albums display a tight integration of words and music, like a soloist jamming over a jazz band that follows their every move. While the air of mystery might draw you in, you'll stay for the originality and a backstage pass to a place where the rules don't apply. And don't miss his bittersweet track $payforhaiti alongside songs with H.E.R. and Thundercat on Kaytranada's Intimidated EP.

Paris Texas - Boy Anonymous Neither from Paris, Texas, or Paris, Texas, this LA-based duo's debut is a completely assured introduction to their talents, which include making self-produced electronic beats that are are infused with a rock sensibility and pop smarts. The vocals, spoken and sung, are sometimes obscured to tantalizing effect like half-heard conversations from another room. At just over 20 minutes, it's guaranteed they will leave you wanting more.

Brockhampton - Roadrunner: New Light, New Machine "America's greatest boy band," as they like to call themselves, announced an "indefinite hiatus" to begin after their Coachella appearance later this year. Whether this proves to be their last album or not, there are no signs of flagging energy as they trade verses among themselves and a slew of notable guests (A$AP Rocky, JPEG Mafia, etc.) in trademark style. The music is full of color and catchy hooks, adding to the exuberance - and another reason they will be missed. 

Moor Mother - Black Encyclopedia Of The Air In which Moor Mother makes an album completely recognizable as hip hop while also sounding as if she's inventing a new genre as she goes along. Whether wielding an acoustic guitar, a modular synth, or a drum machine, everything she does has a ritual power. If you're seeking a point of entry into her distinctive universe, look no further. Also nice to hear Orion Sun on a few tracks. 

Pinkcaravan! - Pink Lemonade While I appreciate the "more is more" philosophy of some of the artists included above, Pinkcaravan!'s little gems brighten up my year with candlepower disproportionate to their length and frequency. This one charming song is what she gave us in 2021 and I savor every delightful second.

Arlo Parks - Collapsed In Sunbeams Often lighter than air, Parks' songs are only occasionally in danger of disappearing entirely. But her strong pop sensibility - and that of her main collaborator, Gianluca Buccellati - lodges several choruses firmly in your ears and her emotional engagement gives the songs staying power. Is she capable of something utterly devastating like Cranes In The Sky by Solange, one of her inspirations? Unknown, but I'm pulling for it!

Secret Night Gang - Secret Night Gang While their fealty to the wonders of Stevie and the elements of Earth Wind & Fire is sometimes oppressive, that's more a result of me thinking too hard than anything they should be concerned about. While the psych-folk-soul epic of The Sun is still their strongest song, the album is proof that there is nothing they can't do in the jazz-funk-gospel-R&B arena and no limit to the sunshine they can bring to your life.

Silk Sonic - An Evening With Silk Sonic Well, goddamn if Anderson .Paak doesn't have me listening to Bruno Mars without cringing! The two are having so much fun in their Motown/Philly Soul (with a touch of Outkast) fantasies that it's almost impossible not to join in. The songs are strong, if not especially original, and the production gleams with .Paak's usual flair. Collaborating seems to have brought out the best in both of them so join the party or be a stick in the mud.

Stimulator Jones - La Mano It's been three years since his debut and Jones' music has only grown more organic, shading closer to jazz, but the grooves and gently left-field approach make it a nice fit among contemporary RnB, too. There are no vocals this time, just quietly dazzling virtuosity on a variety of instruments, including organ, synth, piano, guitar, drums, and bass. New vistas, including tv and film soundtracks, are opening up for the stimulating Mr. Jones.

New Age Doom - Lee "Scratch" Perry's Guide To The Universe An unexpected blessing from the now departed Perry, who answered the call from this Vancouver-based drone-jazz-metal collective and set them on a path to the dub side of the moon - and all the other planets. Led by drummer Eric J. Breitenbach and multi-instrumentalist Greg Valou, the album features a big cast, including two members of Bowie's Blackstar band, Donnie McCaslin on sax and Tim Lefebvre on bass. Perry's presence is appropriately spectral yet somehow fully in charge, like a Jamaican Gandalf goading his band of explorers ever onward. Not for dub purists and all the better for that. 

Pachyman - The Return Of... Another unexpected success, as Pachy Garcia of synth-punkers Prettiest Eyes indulges in his dub obsession with almost eerie fidelity to the original masters, most notably King Tubby. What keeps it from being a rote exercise in studio craft is Garcia's ultra-light touch, a sense of play that is infectiously delightful. 

Etana - Pamoja Occasionally you discover an unheard gem among the Grammy nominations, which is how I found the free-flowing joys of Etana as exhibited here, on her seventh album. Resolutely contemporary, but with an expansive gaze that takes in roots as much as dancehall, she lavishes everything with vocals that are both soulful and elegant. The lyrics could be sharper, but I'm not complaining - positivity and uplift are in short enough supply these days. There are also a number of guests, including the dancehall stalwart Vybz Kartel and the now iconic Damien Marley, who is too infrequently heard from (his last album, the excellent Stony Hill, came out in 2017). Marley is in fabulous form on Turn Up Di Sound, which only makes me wish harder for more from him. Etana's generosity with the mic leads to the album's only stumble, on a song called Fly, which features an execrable vocal from a character named Fiji. It's easily avoided, however, but don't skip this album. I'll be pulling for Etana on April 3rd, when they hand out the Grammys - it's about time a woman took the prize.

Find more beats, rhymes, grooves, and rhythms in the 2021 archived playlist and follow the 2022 playlist to see what this year brings!

You may also enjoy:
Best Of 2020: Hip Hop, RnB, and Reggae
Best Of 2019: Hip Hop, RnB, and Reggae
Best Of 2018: Hip Hop, RnB and Reggae
Best Of 2017: Hip Hop, RnB and Reggae
Best Of 2016: Hip Hop and RnB

Best Of 2021: Electronic

From playful abstraction to sleek sound baths, and from abrasive to soothing, the world of electronic music is filled with limitless variety. Here were a few releases that rose to the top in 2021, starting with those I already covered and then moving on to new reviews. I should point out that four records in my Top 25 would fit nicely here, namely albums by Jane Weaver, Elsa Hewitt, Wavefield Ensemble, and Ben Seretan. Make sure you don't miss those either! Listen to tracks from nearly everything here in this playlist or below.

Celebrating 2021: New Year, New Music 
Amanda Berlind - Green Cone
Foudre! - Future Sabbath

Record Roundup: Novelty Is Not Enough
Various Artists - A New Age For New Age Vol. 3

Record Roundup: Americana The Beautiful
Corntuth - The Desert Is Paper Thin

The Best Of 2021 (So Far)
Mndsgn - Rare Pleasure

Record Roundup: Plugged In
Matt Evans - Touchless
Luce Celestiale - Discepolato Nella Nuova Era

Phong Tran: High Tech, High Emotion
Phong Tran - The Computer Room

Adam Cuthbert - Transits Modular synths, field recordings, and a trumpet like liquid gold make up most of these sublime soundscapes by the founder of the Slashsound label, now based in Detroit. Every track is a highlight, but Yin, which features the questing violin of Kelly Rhode, is sheer heaven. Perhaps being in a strange new city led to the reflective yet powerful concision of these pieces, as if Cuthbert had to be most fully himself so he wouldn't get lost in an unfamiliar environment. But it's not for me to psychoanalyze what makes this album so fantastic - I just know that it is. Part of a banner year for the label, too, alongside terrific releases from Phong Tran (see above), Daniel Rhode (see below), and Miki Sawada & Brendan Randall-Myers (see here). More to come in 2022 - keep an eye and ear out. 

Daniel Rhode - Electrical Interaction Systems With three works of generative electronic music, this latest from Rhode finds a series of happy intersections between Terry Riley, Brian Eno, and Cluster. The title piece is four movements of immersive minimalism - think Baba O'Riley if the rest of The Who never started playing - while Gen1 is an atmospheric conversation between an irregular heartbeat and a witty, squirrelly synth that gains excitement as it goes on. The album closes with the wistfully titled What If We Had More Time, which matches that mood with gently pulsating clouds of electronic sounds that traverse a slow-motion melody for you to drift along with. 

Dylan Henner - Amtracks This four-track EP takes a "memory journey" across Pennsylvania, propelled by Henner's beautifully balanced blend of percussion, electronics, and field recordings. Whether despite or because of his UK origins, Henner seems to have sincere appreciation for the natural beauty of the land he saw from his train windows, lending his music an aura of hope and optimism. It's a lovely trip.

Ibukun Sunday - The Last Wave Like the Henner album above, this is part of Phantom Limb's Spirituals series, but the emotional impact couldn't be more different. Hailing from Lagos, Sunday takes a dark view of the changes he sees around him in Nigeria. Titles like Burn It All Down and Last Earth give the general idea yet the austere drones, sometimes incorporating field recordings and viola, are also languidly seductive, like slipping under black water and just drifting. Don't worry, however, you'll come up for air - at least long enough to hit "play" again.

Arushi Jain - Under The Lilac Sky This divine interweaving of modular synthesis and Indian classical music, tied together by Jain's flowing vocals, sounds as if it has always existed. Richer Than Blood, the opening track, serves as the perfect overture to her project, with her voice soaring over spacious clouds of sound, vibrating woodpecker-like sounds tickling the back of your neck. Look How Far We Have Come, one of the longer tracks, also shows Jain's abilities to through-compose, taking us through moods, modes, and textures in a musical narrative that will keep you riveted. Trust me, you will not want to press pause throughout this marvelous debut.

L'Rain - Fatigue I admit to being a little put off by L'Rain when I saw her open for Crumb back in 2018, partly because she asked us all to sit on the floor and partly because what followed did not seem to justify that imperiousness. She was the opening act, after all! But the buzz over this, her second album, was too intriguing to ignore and I am so glad I bent an ear, if not a knee, to listen. The opener, Fly, Die, is a dazzling rush through phantasmagoric electronics, air horn, spoken word (the powerful Quentin Brock), and chopped up beats - all in exactly two minutes. Jangled nerves are then soothed by Find It, a mantric piece of near-pop that could almost come from an Alice Coltrane cassette - until it abruptly changes to a rhythmless but no less hypnotic exploration of synth clouds, horns, and wordless vocals. A third section is a bit of haunted-house gospel, Travis Haynes reaching for the sky on vocals and organ. With all the sheerly protean talent on display on this occasionally overwhelming album, the end result is the opposite of fatigue and instead, pure energy. I'm expecting a symphony, or maybe an opera, next time - and I will happily sit on the floor to hear it.

Christine Ott - Time To Die If you're like me, you might have heard the title to this spoken in the voice of Roy Batty, the murderous yet noble cyborg played by Rutger Hauer in Blade Runner, even before knowing there was a direct connection. The album also has a dark, rainswept, cinematic sweep, combining electronic sounds of various vintages (including the ondes martenot, a cousin to the theremin) with piano, harp, and percussion. Voices appear on some tracks, including a recitation of Batty's "I've seen things..." speech by Casey Brown on the throbbing, dramatic title track. By beginning at the end of Blade Runner, the album could be seen as an exploration of an alien afterlife, but its attachment to languorous beauty is all too human - and gloriously so. Moreover, there's is no need to be a sci-fi fan to fall for this album - my wife is living proof of that! Also highly recommended is Inner Fires by Snowdrops, Ott's more collaborative effort with multi-instrumentalist Mathiu Gabry, who also plays on Time To Die. Both albums were recorded over several years before final mixing in 2020 and release in 2021 - catch up with them before they catch up with themselves.

Alex Rainer - Harbor When I last reviewed Rainer, I noted that he was an "exceptionally fine folk singer/songwriter," and that Time Changes, his 2020 album, was "loveliness itself." That's all still true, but there's an entirely different side presented here, on this collection of "ambience and soundscapes." Each brief track is a snapshot, catching a mood rather than an image, skillfully interweaving electronics, percussion, and field recordings. There's a sense throughout that Rainer is an observer of the world around him and that to listen is an act of witness. 

Various Artists - Music From SEAMUS 30 These collections from the Society of Electro-Acoustic Music in the United States are always worth a listen, but this one is especially scintillating. Whether the  comic-book inspired bombast of Christopher Biggs' Monstress (2019), with Keith Kirschoff's virtuosic work on piano and Seaboard Rise MIDI-controller, Joo Won Park's cheeky Func Step Mode (2019) for no-input mixer and drum machine, or Heather Stebbins' unsettling Things That Follow (2018), commissioned and played by percussionist Adam Vidiksis, there's a kaleidoscopic selection of approaches, methods, and emotional impacts here, mapping out a broad range of territories for electroacoustic music. There's no better guide to a fascinating landscape.

For similar noises, check into this archive playlist with much more where these came from and follow the 2022 playlist to see what this year brings!

You may also enjoy: 
Best Of 2020: Electronic
Best of 2019: Electronic
Best of 2018: Electronic
Best of 2017: Electronic
Best of 2016: Electronic

Best Of 2021: Classical

I tried mightily to deliver to your ears the many excellent releases in this category as they came my way, but the deluge got the best of me pretty early on. As is usual in these genre-specific lists, I'll first give you links to what I've previously covered followed by pocket reviews of other albums that helped define my year. Selections from everything that's on Spotify* are included in this playlist or below. That said, I got a new CD player this year and have delighted in rediscovering the impact and expressiveness the format can have - many thanks to all the labels still providing physical promos!

 

Celebrating 2021: New Year, New Music
Tak Ensemble - Taylor Brook: Star Maker Fragments
Sid Richardson - Borne By A Wind
Susie Ibarra - Talking Gong
Patricia Brennan - Maquishti
Adam Morford & Anne Leilehua Lanzilotti - Yesterday Is Two Days Ago

Record Roundup: Sonic Environments
Mariel Roberts - Armament
Benjamin Louis Brody/Ian Chang - Floating Into Infinity
Angelica Olstad - Transmute

Record Roundup: Chiaroscuro
Akropolis Reed Quintet - Ghost Light
Žibuoklė Martinaitytė - Saudade
Christopher Cerrone - A Natural History of Vacant Lots and The Arching Path

Record Roundup: Song Forms
Will Liverman and Paul Sanchez - Dreams Of A New Day: Songs By Black Composers
Caroline Shaw - Narrow Sea

Record Roundup: Novelty Is Not Enough
Sō Percussion and Friends - Julius Eastman: Stay On It
Kenneth Kirschner & Joseph Branciforte - From The Machine, Vol. 1
Peter Gilbert - Burned Into The Orange
Chris Campbell - Orison

Record Roundup: Enigmas And Excitations
José Luis Hurtado - Parametrical Counterpoint
Rarescale + Scott L. Miller - 05 IX
Douglas Boyce - The Hunt By Night

Record Roundup: On An Island
Alarm Will Sound - Tyshawn Sorey: For George Lewis | Autoschediasms
Michael Compitello - Unsnared Drum
Molly Herron + Science Ficta - Through Lines
Van Stiefel - Spirits
Ning Yu & David Bird - Iron Orchid

Record Roundup: Solos, Duos, Ensembles
Berglind María Tómasdóttir - Ethereality
Wu Man and Kojiro Umezaki - 流芳Flow
The City Of Tomorrow - Blow
Recap - Count To Five 
Borderlands Ensemble - The Space In Which To See
Loadbang - Plays Well With Others
Tak Ensemble - Brandon Lopez: Empty And/Or Church of Plenty
Ensemble Interactivo de La Habana - Studio Session
Nate Wooley - Mutual Aid Music
JACK Quartet - Christopher Otto: rags'ma
Miki Sawada and Brendan Randall-Myers - A Kind Of Mirror
Julia Den Boer - Kermès

Caroline Shaw and Sō Percussion - Let The Soil Play Its Simple Part As I noted in my review, their previous release, Narrow Sea, left me wanting more, and now I have it! Consider this proof of the concept behind that song cycle, which let the Sō percussionists run wild with expressive clicks, clatters, and rhythmic inventions. Except, instead of Dawn Upshaw, it is Shaw herself who sings these 10 art song arrangements of everything from hymns and Joyce to Anne Carson and Abba. Of the latter, I will say that if you're skeptical - as I am - of the genius of the Swedish pop stars, I can at least say that it does not offend in this context. In fact, the album flows beautifully, with Shaw's crystalline soprano connecting all the dots, and ends with a sublime take on Some Bright Morning (also known as I'll Fly Away), which sounds wonderfully ancient and modern all at once.

Adam Roberts - Bell Threads I may be a romantic at heart, but when I see artists like AndPlay, Hannah Lash, the JACK Quartet, and Bearthoven on a portrait album, I like to think of them clamoring to play the music of an exciting composer. For all I know, it's just another gig for them - "work is good," as we used to say in the freelance photo biz - but at least it also serves as a guarantee of quality in the performances! In any case, had I been paying closer attention, I might have remembered Roberts' playful piece for Transient Canvas on their 2017 album, Sift, but I'm not that cool. This is also his second portrait album, with the first coming out on Tzadik in 2014, so I'm even further behind than I thought. But maybe you are, too, so I can only urge you to get to know this colorful, inventive, and versatile composer ASAP - and you might as well start here. 

Whether you drink deeply from the dark and tangled duos for violin and viola (Shift Differential (2011) and Diptych (2019), masterfully played by AndPlay (Maya Bennardo, violin; Hannah Levinson, viola), or get lost in the sparkling web of Lash's harp in Rounds (2017), you will find yourself drawn into Roberts' world as if by a brilliant storyteller. There's also an Oboe Quartet (2016-17), played by the JACK with Erik Behr, that toys with classical form like a cat with twine, and the title piece (2009), a fine solo work for Levinson's viola. The deal-sealer for me, however, was Happy/Angry Music (2017), an angular, ruminative, and ultimately explosive suite of composed almost-jazz - not dissimilar from Sylvie Courvoisier's recent stuff - played with total immersion by Bearthoven (Karl Larson, piano; Matt Evans, percussion; Pat Swoboda, bass). Bell Threads was a wonderful, if belated, introduction to Roberts, now someone for whom my radar is firmly set.

David Fulmer - Sky's Acetylene This piece for flute (Mindy Kaufman), harp (Nancy Allen), percussion (Dan Druckman), piano (Eric Huebner), and double bass (Max Zeugner) has been sitting in the can since 2017, when the New York Philharmonic premiered it as part of their now-defunct Contact! series. The music remains well in advance of its sell-by date, however, a fresh and fascinating exploration of interplay and solo sonorities of the imaginatively assembled forces for 13 dazzling minutes. A chamber work with orchestral sweep. I should pay closer attention to Fulmer, whose Speak Of The Spring was one of the works gracing Michael Nicholas' remarkable Transitions back in 2016.

Michael Pisaro-Liu - Stem Flower Root "Holy shit, that's the most romantic-sounding thing I've ever heard you play!" So said composer Ingrid Laubrock when hearing trumpeter Nate Wooley playing a dress rehearsal of this piece. Commissioned by Wooley as part of his For/With Festival, and composed for b-flat trumpet with a variety of mutes and sine waves, the 30-minute piece has three distinct parts. Laubrock was probably talking about Flower, the middle section, which has a languor one might associate with Chet Baker. In the dense but beautiful essay included in the chapbook that accompanies the project, Pisaro-Liu notes that it is a "symmetrical collection of five arcs or five petals on a flower, with each petal picking up where the previous had left off." The opening and closing sections are meditations on tone, single notes blown through different mutes. The chapbook also has a series of "Anatomies" by Wooley (from whence the Laubrock quote comes), where he writes: "Every time a trumpet is muted, a pathway to a new sonic universe is laid." So true, whether it's Miles Davis playing Someday My Prince Will Come or the incantations Wooley lays down here. This sublime project is the first of the For/With pieces to be recorded - more to come in 2022. While the $7 digital download comes with a PDF of the chapbook, for just another $5 I recommend splurging on the physical book to treat yourself to a more immersive experience. There's something to be said for looking away from a screen from time to time!

Dustin White - Ri Ra Boasting seven world-premiere recordings of 21st century works for C, alto, and bass flute - all inspired by middle eastern traditions - this debut highlights an engaged and adventurous musician. His generosity extends to his website, with ample bios for each composer (Parisa Sabet, Erfan Attarchi, Sami Seif, Imam Habibi, Ata Ghavidel, Wajdi Abou Diab, Katia Makdissi-Warren) and links to their socials. This was especially helpful as all were unfamiliar to me. The album flows nicely, rising to a head on the penultimate track, Diab's The Awiss Dance (2020), based on an ancient rhythm used by Arabian tribesmen to make horses and camels dance. It's a wonderful piece that may have you get up from your seat to match its percussive flair. How often can you say that about a flute album?

Amanda Gookin - Forward Music Project 2.0: In This Skin When I reviewed the first volume in this series focusing on women composers, I remarked I would be on high alert for the next one. Now, that anticipation has been repaid by this new collection, featuring seven pieces commissioned by Gookin to spotlight female empowerment and strength. Many of the pieces use visceral techniques to reflect their rootedness in the body, whether the "everyday erotics" of Alex Temple's Tactile, the three ages of woman reflected in Kamala Sankaram's Belly, or the embodied anger of Shelley Washington's Seething. In addition to Gookin's stunning cello playing, the tracks may feature spoken word, singing, electronics, or bass drum, creating a variety of compelling textures. While Tactile highlights Gookin's own bell-like vocals, Veiled by Niloufar Nourbakhsh uses the voices of Chelsea Loew and Solmaz Badri to pay tribute to the resilience of women who have stood up to Islamic extremism. As on volume one, the inspirations and background stories (Paola Prestini cites the Kavanaugh hearings as fuel for her piece, To Tell A Story) certainly enrich the experience of listening but are not required reading to know that the composers and Gookin are being given free reign of expression and are exploring areas of true passion. All of that comes through in the music, loud and clear. Bring on 3.0!

Gyda Valtÿsdöttir - Ox (also on Limited edition vinyl) On her last album, the Icelandic cellist, composer, singer, and multi-instrumentalist traversed 2,000 years of musical history. On Ox, she focuses on erasing genre, creating a transporting song cycle that touches on ambient, electronic, art-pop, and chamber music. Based on its title alone, Cute Kittens Lick Cream may be the archetypal piece here, embracing an up-to-the-minute languor that should decorate whatever place in which you shelter with gentle colors and gauzy textures. Let it envelop you.

Berglind Maria Tómasdóttir - The Lokkur Project: Music For Lokkur | Lokkur Reworks | Duet When I reviewed Ethereality, Tómasdóttir's "spellbinding" album of flute music earlier in 2021, little did know that I had just been granted a key to a marvelous world of invention and surprise. But I did not hesitate to respond with an enthusiastic "YES" when she offered to send me her next album, which was accompanied by a cassette and a book related to the project. Based on a pair of supposedly ancient Icelandic instruments - which she invented and built - Tómasdóttir has created a lighthearted investigation into national and cultural identity that has also led to some very real and very captivating music. The Lokkur, and its earlier incarnation, the Hrokkur, uses a foot-powered wheel to create a spidery drone on a stringed instruments, which can also be plucked or knocked to create other sounds and manipulate the pitch. Music For Lokkur opens and closes with solos that give an idea of the beguiling possibilities of the instrument.  The four tracks in the middle are compositions by others that also include vocals, making for impressionistic folk songs that could point Björk in some new directions. All are profoundly odd and yet somehow comforting, except for Langlínusamtal viõ fúskara, which has some distorted vocals that I found off-putting. 

The cassette, which includes "reworks" by friends and collaborators including Bergrún Snæbjörnsdóttir, Clint McCallum, Elín Gunnlaugsdóttir, and Erik DeLuca is a gem throughout, however. Each composer was sent a bank of sounds from the Lokkur and Hrokkur and encouraged to let their imaginations run free, creating atmospheric soundscapes that could create an alternate history of minimalism, not to mention electronic and ambient music. An early favorite is Kurt Uenala's Weltraum Rework, which accrues more synthesized details as a Lokkur loop repeats hypnotically, eventually arriving at an abstract groove not far from something by Autechre. 

Finally, there is the book, a beautiful hardcover with an embossed cover and many illustrations, containing a dialogue between Tómasdóttir and her alter ego, Rock River Mary (derived from Berg (rock), Lind (river), Maria (Mary)), in which they spar amusingly about the origins of the Lokkur Project, the challenges of being a woman in academia and the music world, differences between Iceland and America, and many other subjects. The sense of going through the looking glass while reading this delightful book is not unlike how I felt reading Pale Fire by Nabokov. All together, the Lokkur Project reveals Tómasdóttir as an utter original. I will endeavor to be less surprised when she blows my mind again.

Ensemble Dal Niente - confined. speak. The idea that the pandemic has brought with it both challenges and opportunities is by now a near cliché. However, there's no doubt that this flexible Chicago group has met the former and grasped the latter in exemplary fashion. After working up six pieces by composers including Hilda Paredes and George Lewis for livestream performances, they realized they had an album in the making. Featuring works for anywhere from two to 14 performers, the ensemble's versatility is on full display here, along with their brilliance in a variety of modes. From the mysteries of Andile Khulamalo's Beyond Her Mask (2021), which also features soprano Carrie Henneman Shaw, to the sardonic wit of Lewis's Merce And Baby (2012), composed for a John Cage tribute, they run the full gamut. Executive Director and harp genius Ben Melsky gets a starring role in Paredes' Demente Cuerda (2004), while ensemble members Igor Santos and Tomás Gueglio both have new works performed. All is full of color and detail, making for a rich listening experience. Somewhere along the way, Dal Niente also found the time to contribute to New Works From The Virginia Center For Computer Music, which includes more great harp music and throws electronics into the mix. It highlights a robust academic program of which I was previously unaware, yet there's nothing studious about the music, which is consistently absorbing. Their name literally means "from nothing," and it seems nothing can hold them down!

Richard Carr - Over The Ridge Carr is also someone who has used the pandemic fruitfully, taking a break from his usual metier of improvised and electronic music to put pen to paper and write material for string quartet. His rolodex is also impressive as he reached out to violist and composer Caleb Burhans, who assembled an ad hoc group - including cello maven Clarice Jensen - to play it. With violinists Laura Lutzke and Ravenna Lipchik filling out the group, and Carr himself adding violin on five tracks, the sound is full and involving. The result is this gorgeous album, which somehow manages to combine a Medieval stateliness with an earthy naturalism, even drawing in strains of Americana. Four of the pieces have all players improvising based on structures created by Carr. It's testament to their taste and creativity that all the music here, whether scored or improvised, displays the same taste, musicianship, and creativity. A quiet wonder.

Now Ensemble - Sean Friar: Before And After Completed after a three year process of improvisation and collaboration between composer and ensemble, this often has a burnished, pensive quality, with occasional bite from Mark Danciger's electric guitar. There's also a swirling business to some sections, that seems to have a psychological impetus, like a Bernard Herrmann soundtrack for a Hitchcock film. There is, in fact, a programmatic element to the eight-movement work, with Friar calling it "a rumination on the lifespan of civilizations, on our own small place in the larger rhythm of the world." But you will be excused for thinking your own thoughts while listening, or just for admiring the beauty of the sounds and the adventurousness of the artists involved, who also include Logan Coale (bass), Alicia Lee (clarinet), Michael Mizrahi (piano) and Alex Sopp (flute).

John Luther Adams - Arctic Dreams Since it is unlikely that a mere mortal such as I will ever experience listening to "wind harps on the tundra," as Adams did while conceiving of this glorious shimmer of a piece, this album will have to do. Composed for four singers (the superb Synergy Voices) and a string quartet, and enhanced by three-layers of digital delay, the seven movements, each with titles like "Pointed Mountains Scattered All Around," seem to suspend time itself as they assemble in your ears. While individual words rarely register, the texts describe natural Arctic features in the languages of the Iñupiat and Gwich’in peoples of Alaska, adding additional depth to the music. Adams brings a technical rigor and a humbleness before nature to bear here, not unlike the work of his namesake, Ansel Adams, who did the same in his photography. Though the forces are far smaller, Adams' achievement here is equal to epic orchestral works like Become Ocean - massive!

These are far from the only albums in this realm that provided delight and fascination throughout 2021. For more, I urge you to check out my Of Note In 2021: Classical (Archive). To hear what the Recording Academy deemed "of note," give a listen to my handy Classical Grammy Nominations 2022 playlist. And to see what develops this year, please follow Of Note In 2022 (Classical). 

You may also enjoy:

Best Of 2020: Classical
Best Of 2019: Classical
Best Of 2018: Classical
Best Of 17: Classical
Best Of 16: Classical
Best Of 15: Classical & Composed
Best Of The Rest Of 14: Classical & Composed

*I am fully aware of the multitude of issues around Spotify, whether their payment structures or their lax approach to content mediation, and am actively researching alternatives.

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

16. Wavefield Ensemble - Concrete & Void

17. Faye Webster - I Know I'm Funny HaHa

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

Getting Back To Let It Be

I don't know about you, but between the Get Back documentary and the 50th Anniversary edition of Let It Be, my fall has been dominated by The Beatles. Naturally, I have some thoughts about all of it - read on!

The Beatles: Get Back Documentary Series
The Beatles - Let It Be 50th Anniversary Edition (Super Deluxe)
The more you know, the less you understand. That's the short version of how I felt after reading volume one of Tune In, Mark Lewisohn's minutely detailed biography of The Beatles. That lengthy tome, which takes us through the childhoods of the four lads up to the precipice of Love Me Do's release, is so full of improbable occurrences that it would beggar belief as a work of fiction. 

And so it goes with Peter Jackson's eight-hour-plus documentary series on the making of Let It Be, which is filled with forensic, sometimes phenomenally exciting details, but never fully dispels the mystery of what made The Beatles at their best so good. But it does take a long time to remind you of how spectacularly good they could truly be. 

Part of the hype around this excavation, restoration, reedit, and reevaluation of the 60 hours of footage shot in January 1969, is that it shows a happier period in The Beatles' career than Let It Be, the desultory film created by director Michael Lindsay-Hogg and released in 1970. The truth is, of course, more complicated than that. In Part One, which starts on January 2nd, 1969, they are indeed all smiles, acting as if they have all just come back from holiday when they arrive at Twickenham film studio to begin rehearsals for a return to live performance that will be accompanied by a TV special. 

The good cheer continues as they run through nascent versions of I've Got A Feeling, Don't Let Me Down, Gimme Some Truth, All Things Must Pass, and fragments of other songs old, new, and covers. It's remarkable how carefully they listen to each other and flash enthusiastic smiles from time to time. But there are red flags from the beginning. The studio doesn't sound good to them, they feel exposed in the enormous room, and the live performance is hanging over their heads, necessitating breaks for discussion that circle around and go nowhere. For the viewer, how much this will fascinate is in direct relationship to your passion for The Beatles - and for seeing the sausage get made. 

One misunderstanding I had that was thoroughly cleared up by Part One is the creation of Don't Let Me Down, which I always assumed from listening to bootlegs was presented as this perfect song that Paul tried to muck up with annoying counterpoint vocals. But it was actually that John only had fragments and Paul is trying to goose the song to completion however he can. Before work on it grinds to a halt, there's some interesting discussion about parts of the song being too "corny" or "pretty," with Lennon defending its simplicity. It finally comes down to George to nuke Paul's unnecessary complications, by pointing out that it sounds "awful." But as many versions as we see throughout the series, the leap to an indelible masterpiece is never quite seen. Either it was off camera or it was just unspoken.

The most serious issue, of course, is George's discontentment in his own role, both at playing third wheel to one of the greatest songwriting duos in history, and to feeling technically inadequate to this method of trying to gin up songs in real time. He recognizes his limitations around improvisation, unfavorably comparing himself to Eric Clapton, which leads Paul to say: "But that's jazz." They're clearly not communicating. 

There's also this earlier nugget from George: "It should be where if you write a song I feel as though I wrote it. And vice versa...That was the good thing about the last album. It's the only album, so far, I tried to get involved with." And Paul just says: "Yeah."

Eventually George walks out and Part One ends in disillusion and near dissolution. But there are amazing moments, such as when, on the morning of January 7th 1969, when John is late,  and Paul, clearly frustrated at their slow progress, starts strumming on his Hofner bass, rocking back and forth like he's possessed. The best word for what happens next is a conjuring, as he draws the basic structure of Get Back out of his soul. Ringo and George look on, with the latter saying, "It's good, you know, musically, its great." He starts working out a part, and Ringo starts singing backup vocals, before taking up the drums, and soon all three of them are grooving together. Jaw-dropping stuff. 

Michael Lindsay-Hogg, for all his apparent skill at camera placement and coordination, is full of terrible ideas about the performance ("How about an orphanage?") and seems unable to read the room throughout. He even manages to get in a brief pissing match with Linda Eastman (McCartney) about who is the bigger fan of the Fab Four.  But he manages to get them all set up when, in Part Two, they move to the smaller confines of their new studio in the Apple building. Even with George back in the fold, this and parts of Part Three are a bit of an endurance trial, as you watch them simultaneously create the songs loved by generations - and attempt to murder them in their cribs by performing them in every style of parody you can imagine. Even this lover of their Christmas singles had his patience tested from time to time, but I guess performing Two Of Us as clenched-jaw ventriloquists is what John and Paul needed to do to re-cement their bond!

The ultimate payoff is hinted at when Billy Preston, whom they had known since their Hamburg days - and whom George had rhapsodized about in Part One - drops by for a meet and greet and essentially ends up joining the band for the remainder of the sessions. The sheer musical skill of Preston is astonishing as he just sits down at either a Rhodes electric piano or a Lowry organ and instantly plays parts that are nearly ones we hear on the final versions - and always with great exuberance and enthusiasm.

I also delighted in observing John's love affair with his Fender VI, a six-string bass that he plays on several songs, including The Long And Winding Road, when Paul is occupied by piano. He's often seen cross-legged on the floor, gently caressing notes out of the instrument. Yoko, whom I should have mentioned earlier, shows no signs of jealousy, but is rather content to sit and listen. She does show enthusiasm for some of the songs, especially as they come together more, and at times is seen in animated conversation with Linda - a beautiful sight.

In Parts Two and Three, there are flashes of musical perfection, master takes, even, evincing that unique and beautiful sensation of pure harmony between four people (or five, counting Billy) but it's not until the live performance finally takes place that we get an uncut (well, mostly) dose of Beatles magic. All that talk finally led to them making their way up to the roof of Apple for that famous last concert, although there was last-minute hesitation about even that. Lindsay-Hogg's skills come to the fore as he sets up ten cameras - five on the roof itself - and prepares to capture this historic moment. 

Not having performed live in three years, the four Beatles show some jitters - and also some worries about the roof's stability, but finally take their places, and run through a quick and ragged soundcheck of Get Back, getting the attention of their impromptu audience on the street. Then, with less than 50 minutes left to go in the series, they count off the first full performance of Get Back heard in public and it's...OK. But you can sense their true power coming back - and they feel it, too, exchanging glances, looking cool, smiling at each other. Then they do it one more time and...LIFTOFF. John executes his intricate rhythm and lead parts with panache, Billy's fingers dance on the keys, George strums along, easy breezy, and Paul is finally fully feeling himself, interjecting little whoops and hollers and finding the parts of the song to push his voice. Cut to Maureen Starkey bobbing her head hard, like I would have been. 

Then, they launch into Don't Let Me Down, with John and Paul harmonizing beautifully, and, even with a bit of gibberish from John, it is glorious. But it's when they kick right into I've Got A Feeling that it dawns on you: they could have done this more than once. They could have taken this on the road! It would have been one of the greatest tours in history, of that I have no doubt. Of course, if that had happened, we might not have gotten Abbey Road, which is a tough trade-off for posterity to accept. 

Throughout this magnum opus, Jackson makes almost only good choices. There are a few uncomfortable moments, such as when he overlays footage of The Beatles in their touring pomp as they blow through a version of Chuck Berry's Rock And Roll Music at Twickenham. Nice try. One could also complain about the highly fragmented approach to the rooftop concert, with all of its split screens and many cuts to the people in the street and the Bobbies sent to inquire about the noise. This is part of the story, yes, but it also dilutes the sheer brilliance of what the Fabs are doing. But, damn, nothing can keep us from the ultimate bliss of John delivering the loving and joyous version of I Dig A Pony that appears on the Let It Be album, screwing up his face in pleasure at George's perfect guitar solo, which firmly beats Clapton at his own game. You really can syndicate every boat you row, after all!

Of course, we've seen much of this before, in the original Let It Be film and on YouTube, but it's never looked as good, with Jackson's technical wizardry making both sound and vision pop with crystal clarity. We also owe Jackson a debt of gratitude for organizing the trajectory of what would eventually become their final release. The calendar graphic is highly effective at keeping us rooted in the timeline. The time at Twickenham, painful as some of it is, has never been so well-explicated. Bootlegs tell only part of the story, and Lewisohn himself elides most of it in his classic book, The Beatles: Recording Sessions, only picking up the story in full when they come to Apple. Jackson also does a great job highlighting some of the people around The Beatles, like Mal Evans, their indefatigable "road manager," who is as patient with a pen to take down lyrics as he is sourcing an anvil for early takes of Maxwell's Silver Hammer.

As a three-part series, Get Back lacks the shapeliness of a great documentary film, and, with each part well over two hours, even the gripping structure of a good docu-series. But it puts you in the shoes (and occasionally flamboyant boots) of The Beatles as they struggle through harmony and dissonance and unity and disarray. While not all sunshine and flowers, it is a more nuanced look at this time in The Beatles career than Lindsay-Hogg's dour original, and is a highly valuable project for that reason alone. If you are any kind of a fan of the band, or curious about the creative process and the pitfalls and power of collaboration, it is well worth paying for at least a month of Disney+ to immerse yourself in this shaggy tale. 

The Super Deluxe box set, on the other hand, is a typical Beatles product in that it seeks to organize and sculpt things a bit more than Jackson's lengthy project would allow. But this does make for good listening, as the two discs (in CD terms) of jams, rehearsals, and sessions, bear repeat plays and decently summarize all the ins and outs of making Let It Be. Whether by choice or due to contractual arrangements with Disney, we do not get the complete audio of the rooftop concert or even a hint of some of the intriguing offshoots of the Twickenham work, such as a jam with moments of hushed majesty called The Palace Of The King Of The Birds, a segment of which is heard over the end credits of Part One. The bootlegs are not yet obsolete.

The set also includes Glyn Johns' May 1969 assembly of an album called Get Back, which was his first attempt to make sense of all that happened that January. In a recent issue of Mojo, he relayed that when presented with this mix, The Beatles "...all came back the next day and said, to a man, 'fuck off.' They hated it." And they were right. Hearing it here, and knowing what gold was also on the tapes, one questions Johns' sanity or at least his hearing. Sure, giving us The Beatles "warts and all" is an interesting concept, but he seems to purposely choose takes that are just this side of good, much less great. They had master takes that he simply ignored for the sake of a principle! 

Johns also made an assembly of Get Back in January 1970, which as I understand it, was pressed onto acetate and sent to radio stations as an advance of The Beatles next album. Was that one any better? Not by much, since it used the same takes of the songs the two have in common. At least it eliminated Paul's Teddy Boy, which I find irritating in any version, and included George's I Me Mine, was recorded on January 3rd, 1970, the last time more than two Beatles were in the studio (John was absent) until the "Threetles" sessions for The Beatles Anthology in 1994. We get to hear that version of I Me Mine (all 1:45 of it) on an EP that fills out the box with new mixes of the single versions of Don't Let Me Down and Let It Be, both of which sound fine but don't further illuminate already magnificent songs. I also question the need to have 30 seconds of dialog precede Don't Let Me Down, which is not part of the original single release. If you want one of Lennon's best songs as he intended, you've still got to get the Mono Masters set or Past Masters Vol. 2 - or track down the original 45.

But what of Let It Be, the LP finally released on May 8th, 1970, and which all of this pomp purportedly celebrates? While not included in Get Back, most people are familiar with its final stages, when John and George surprised everyone by reviving the project and handing the tapes over to Phil Spector. John and George were highly enamored of the producer, even if his best days were behind him, both working with him on large swaths of solo material. The results created the only Beatles album with an asterisk, with everyone from fans and critics to Paul himself questioning many of Spector's choices. According to Lewisohn, Paul even accused the other Beatles in High Court of seeking to "ruin his personal reputation" with the orchestrated version of The Long And Winding Road.

In 2003, Paul produced his terribly titled rejoinder, Let It Be...Naked, which sought to right some of the perceived wrongs by stripping away the Spectorization and selecting different takes and edits in some cases. It was a good, if somewhat airless, alternate approach, with Let It Be and I Me Mine being the most satisfying beneficiaries of the treatment. The Long And Winding Road, sorry to say, still felt like it lacked something, and in the Get Back documentary Paul is seen discussing adding strings and other embellishments. 

But how bad is Let It Be, with "bad" being a relative term, as this is still The Beatles, after all? As a five-year old, it was just another album by my family's favorite band. While I recognized a certain different texture due to the orchestrations - the heaviest on a Beatles album since Goodnight - it still brought great joy. Listening now to my 51-year-old copy, which is in decent shape, I can take new delight in Two Of Us, now having the visual of John and Paul, face to face with their acoustics, while George, off to the side, does his country licks in place of a bass line. It's just a tremendously moving song and Spector does nothing to interfere with it or I Dig A Pony's awesome rooftop performance. I actually love the false start, which Paul saw fit to remove. Across The Universe now sounds a little more out of place, so firmly am I aware of its 1968 provenance. I like the "Wildlife" version better - best presented on the Mono Masters collection - and also agree with David Bowie that a more acerbic treatment was required.

I Me Mine is the first song with Spector's new material added, and the brass, strings, and choir sound bolted on and just plain unnecessary. His edit to extend the song works perfectly, however, making for a more satisfying listen in that regard. Let It Be also gets the full treatment and works better as the song itself attracts that kind of grandeur. John's Fender VI feels a little exaggerated but Ringo's drums have a nice clarity. Sonically, the orchestra lacks the depth of the one on Goodnight, perhaps pushing the limits of 1970's technology. Fifty seconds of Dig It and 40 of Maggie Mae are the perfect reminders of the playful atmosphere of parts of the sessions. Unlike Paul, I wouldn't want my Let It Be without them.

Side two kicks off with those ringing guitars of I've Got A Feeling, and once again I can connect to the recording, on the rooftop, with the glances between John and Paul easily recalled as they exchange lines. It's a great performance, too, with a low-end throb and George ripping off those tense leads with authority. One After 909 is a fine romp from the rooftop and sounds as fun as it looked. The Long And Winding Road, seen as too maudlin, attracts controversy as a song apart from Spector's work, but I think there's a fine melody in there, a beautifully restrained vocal from Paul, and now I have the added visual of the band in the studio to light my way through the morass. The strings, etc., are indeed a bridge too far, overwhelming not only Ringo's sensitive drumming but Paul's vocals, two tracks of which Spector erased to make room for more glop. 

In Get Back, we see them open up a box and pull out a cute little lap steel guitar. Picturing John playing it like a kid with a new toy only adds to the charms of For You Blue ("Go, Johnny, go!" George interjects during his overdubbed vocals). Get Back, a studio recording with rooftop dialog added by Spector, sounds fantastic, and knowing how many takes it took to get from Paul's Twickenham fever dream to this only makes it seem more remarkable. As predicted, I'm bobbing my head just like Maureen. A perfect ending to an imperfect album.

Some of the issues described above were helped slightly by the 2009 remaster, which added clarity without doing much more. Now, we have a wholly new mix by George Martin's son, Giles, who has previously worked wonders with Sgt. Peppers and the White Album (not so much with Abbey Road). Martin the younger sought to find the best of both worlds, respecting the original 1970 release while endeavoring to integrate all the disparate elements, whether the old recording of Across The Universe, or Spector's after-work. And guess what? It works a treat! That touch of grandiosity now elevates I Me Mine instead of swamping it. Let It Be takes you to church, George's overdubbed solo slicing through with a new physicality, John's bass anchoring everything, and Ringo's creativity shining bright. Even The Long And Winding Road goes down more smoothly, with Paul's voice having more presence and George's guitar, played through a Leslie amp for that watery sound, actually there at all. Is it a great recording? Maybe not, but it's easier to judge it for what it is than thinking about its constituent parts. Across The Universe still feels a little out of place, but that's more due to its instrumentation than the recording.

Over all, the album sounds terrifically well balanced, with renewed clarity and weight and Martin's work confirms Spector's skill at record-making. All of the dialog and scattershot bits make sense and give Let It Be the feel of a real album, as opposed to Johns' proposed Get Back sound collages. So, what is the poor consumer to do after all of this? If you can afford it, by all means get the Super Deluxe set on vinyl ($130) or CD ($115), although the book, which is supposed to be great, is likely more impressive in the former package. The Glyn Johns Get Back is packaged to look like an official album, making for a cool object, but it's not likely you will play it often. For most people, cutting to the chase and getting the new version of Let It Be on vinyl will be enormously satisfying, especially if you don't already have it in an earlier version. If you stream, you can find all of the material there as well.

Having watched the documentary and listened to everything that's now been officially released, I find myself marveling anew at what these four complex, flawed individuals were able to create and achieve. While the Get Back/Let It Be project was more seat-of-the-pants than anything they had done before - even the debut album was rehearsed for months on stage before they laid it down in one session - I've listened to enough bootlegs (and the Anthology volumes) to know that artistic greatness was never guaranteed when they started recording. It was their attention to detail, their hunger for success and perfection, and that indefinable fifth element that was created by the four of them together that made The Beatles so unique and enduring. And no amount of information overload will change that.

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The Book Of Fab
The Beatles Thing
One, Two, Three, Four, Cough