I just realized that since this year I have changed things up–only writing about 20-25 records a month instead of creating a long ol’ snake of a list as the year goes on–my massive readership must be waiting with bated breath to learn what my very fuckin’ favorites are. I am begging forgiveness! I was planning on submitting such a list every quarter, so when I hit December I don’t go cross-eyed when I head to the polls. SO, excuse me while I annoy you with alphabetization instead of ranking (JLin, hint hint…maybe), but….
Via Mr. Postman, I just got this drums ‘n’ trumpet duet explosion from Libra Records by Natsuki Tamura and Jim Black that is crisply recorded, rocks even though it’s technically free jazz, and even includes nicely-timed ululations for fans of Yoko Ono and later-period Cecil Taylor. I wish I had a video or Spotify link, but it’s not yet out–I will be enthusing about it.
Out of the blue, it struck me how I really feel about Taylor Swift: I admire her like I admired Tom Petty (which will now make Tom Petty fans mad, maybe). Crafty, solid, memorable, reliable, pleasurable–but, for me, just not enough to bring one of their records into the house. (I did own Damn the Torpedos and that one he argued the price down on when I was a whippersnapper, though).
Some readers who are also my Facebook cyberpals already know about this, but in my composition class this year, while Cowboy Carter was still in the offing, we got to talking about the history of descendants of enslaved Africans (and sometimes former enslaved Africans) making country music far in advance as is what is popularly assumed. For my students, I started a Spotify playlist including some such recordings, shared it on Facebook, then watched joyfully as former students–many of whom are now Southerners–started adding to the playlist. I’m very happy about it, and here it is. Is it missing some things? Certainly. Hit me ‘up….
I will again try to comment meaningfully on each of the following alphabetically-ordered new release in single complete sentences. Two introductory notes, though:
Later this year, Phil Freeman’s Cecil Taylor biography In the Brewing Luminous will be published. I’m reading a review copy, and I’m here to tell you it’s outstanding. First of all, this book was badly needed, given Taylor’s singular genius and influence; second of all, in well-documented form it gathers much info that’s out there in one place; third, it’s so comprehensive it’s alerted this passionate fan to recordings he’s never heard of; fourth–no surprise with Mr. Freeman–it advances some critical arguments very convincingly; and fifth, in a continuance from Freeman’s stellar electric Miles investigation, Running the Voodoo Down, the author excels–really excels–at describing a furious, sometimes byzantine music in very distinctive and accurate detail. That’s a trick I really envy; if I could do a fifth as good a job as Freeman, I’d be writing about jazz much more frequently. Check out Phil’s chock-full Burning Ambulance Substack to learn more.
I’m not that much a fan of Light in the Attic’s new Lou Reed tribute The Power of the Heart–at all–but that damn Bobby Rush will be ninety-one in November, and if Sally truly can’t dance, he sure as hell can. He elides a few phrases in Reed’s lyric I bet he wasn’t wholly comfortable with, but he, as per usual for many, many years, sells the song. Hear it in the Spotify Playlist linked at the bottom!
April Top 15 New Platters:
Byron Asher’s Skrontch Music: Lord, when you send the rain (Sinking City)–Like Asher’s previous Skrontch Music album, the problems of New Orleans’ (and other places’) present send him backwards into the future, with spoken clips, traditional instrumentation, and post-modern feints and juxtapositions helping us get why.
Bruno Berle: No Reino Dos Afetos 2 (Psychic Hotline)–The Bandcamp description of this soothing singer’s project (the first volume is excellent, too) informs us that lo-fi, dub step, and other ingredients are utilized to help Berle break away from the Brazilian expected–but I also note that it notes the album’s “sun-soaked” and “sun-drenched” affect, so maybe that’s just historical gravity, not at all a bad thing.
Beyonce: Cowboy Carter (Parkwood Entertainment)–OK, so it’s not all that country (please dig out featured vet Linda Martell’s Color Me Countryif you want that)–it’s just a really good Beyonce album, but, with much less pre-release hype and in-release bombast, I’d argue Mickey Guyton made a stronger statement with Remember Her Name in ’21 without riding a horse or wearing a cowboy hat (plus she turned whiskey into wine).
Buck 65, doseone, Jel: North American Adonis (Handsmade)–Rap earworm line of the year from this on-a-serious-verbal-roll Canadian MC is that he bets his CDs are gonna be “alive in a landfill”–that’s thinking ahead.
Cedric Burnside: Hill Country Love (Mascot / Provogue)–The North Mississippi Hill Country blues practitioners are getting whittled down something considerable, R. L.’s grandson’s has gamely tried keep the style alive with some gently modern tweaks, and he finally nails it here.
James Carter: UN (J.M.I. Recordings)–J.M.I.’s cutting analog jazz vinyl, and, while I have not heard them all (David Murray’s 2023 offerings, solo and with Plumb, were impressive), this is tops for them so far, causing one to wonder why it’s taken JC this long to wax an unaccompanied set…though I’m still waiting for his Earl Bostic tribute album.
Big Freedia & The Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra: Live at the Orpheum Theater (Queen Diva)–A bounce orchestra’s taking it too far, you might think, but you SHOULDalready know not to sell the Queen Diva short.
Miha Gantar: New York City (Clean Feed)–When I received a digital review copy of this 5-disc collection of new compositions and improvisations by the 26-year-old Slovenian pianist, I rolled my eyes but, as I have sworn to do with these “gifts,” gave it a shot–then found myself so mesmerized not only by the variable moods and configurations (strings, solo, drums only, collab with sax sensation Zoh Amba, etc.), but also by the distinctiveness of the six-count-’em-six pieces that I listened to the whole thing straight through and determined that it’s my favorite jazz release of the year.
Matt Lavelle and the 12 Houses: The Crop Circles Suite, Part 1 (Mahakala Music)–NYC clarinetist, trumpeter, composer and conductor Lavelle, long a very underrated player on the jazz scene, released this, (it looks like the first half of) his “life’s work,” on his 54th birthday: easily one of the genre’s most ambitious, successful and inspiring records of the young year.
Meshell Ndegeocello (and Friends): Red Hot & Ra – The Magic City (Red Hot Org)–You know you cannot resist the pull of the perennially underrated Ndegeocelleo, assisted by jazz compatriots Immanuel Wilkins and Darius Jones, putting a fresh spin on The Sun One–which the Red Hot Org label seems recently dedicated to doing, with a Kronos Quartet set in the offing.
Tomeka Reid Quartet: 3 + 3 (Cuneiform)–More and more predictably, when you put Reid and guitarist Mary Halvorson in the same room, sparks will fly along with those fingers, and aural magic will be the result, as it is here.
Ann Savoy: Another Heart (Smithsonian Folkways)–Surprise of the month: a passionate combo of covers (Springsteen, Sandy Denny, Kinks!) and originals sung and played by acclaimed Cajun historian and member of one of the style’s most acclaimed and hardest working families, a Top-Tenner to my ears (and…heart).
Reyna Tropical: Reyna Tropical (Psychic Hotline)–I swear I’ve run into one of these albums every month for a couple of years: a moody, sexy, lithely swinging, electronic trance-r&b–maybe in this case, yeah, trance–tropical–album that I can’t quit playing and beats monkey gland shots or whatever, which means I might need to dive into the artist’s considerable (for her age) back catalog.
Fay Victor: Life is Funny That Way—Herbie Nichols Sung (TAO Forms)–I’ll admit that, while an earlier 2024 group from Brazil did successfully sing Bill Evans, I thought star-crossed jazz pianist Nichols’ quirky compositions were too high a hurdle, but then I didn’t know diddley about Victor, whose scatting isn’t just experimental but vies with Carter, McRae, Ross, and Vaughan (stylistically, not really Ella, though) at their most daring; the band makes it over the bar as clearly.
Bob Vylan: Humble as the Sun (Ghost Theater)–A youngster for our times, though, compared to his last two records, this one seems almost autumnal, as if the pure revolutionary fire he regularly lights has prematurely aged him–but these times can do that, too.
April Top 10 Old Platters [Post-Record Store Day CD Meteor Shower (for me, every day is RSD)].
Alice Coltrane: The 1971 Carnegie Hall Concert (Impulse!)–The latest entry in the Alice Coltrane revival is the rowdiest and maybe the best, thanks to horns shaking things up.
Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru: Souvenirs (Mississippi Records)–As they do a Professor Longhair platter, all homes that dig music need a record by the recently-departed, ghost-fingered Ethiopian pianist and nun, but this is her first recording with vocals, which I wasn’t completely certain hadn’t slowed down her already sauntering roll–but, upon two more listens, I was wrong again.
Grupo Irakere: Teatro Amadeo Roldan Recital (Mr. Bongo)–Cuban bands come no hotter than this one, and this is their long-unavailable debut recording (and it’s not just hot).
Rail Band: Rail Band(Mississippi Records)–Another debut recording by a legendary band, this one from Mali, this one too long-unavailable, and featuring not one but two legendary vocalists: Salif Keita and Mory Kanté.
Sonny Rollins: Freedom Weaver–The 1959 European Tour Recordings(Resonance)–My good pal Chris Gray, referring to this album, wondered who could complain about “live Rollins ’59,” and. while I whole-heartedly agree, especially since Sonny’s working in a trio format, Sonny would soon hit the bridge to…woodshed; I promise you that if you’re ever this good at what you do that you think you’re not good enough, you might just need lysergic therapy. (Note: RSD 2024 choice now available on CD.)
Sun Ra: At the Showcase Live in Chicago 1976-1977 (Elemental Music)–Ra in Chicago, always a spot for top-of-the-line spaceworks, with the band orbiting. (Note: RSD 2024 choice now available on CD.)
Art Tatum: Jewels In the Treasure Box (Resonance)–Mainly, you need to know this Tatum is in trio mode, which naturally cuts into his usual carnival of pianistics but also allows guitarist Everett Barksdale and legendary bassist Slam Stewart to show their scintillating stuff. (Note: RSD 2024 choice now available on CD.)
Various Artists: Congo Funk! Sound Madness From The Shores Of The Mighty Congo River(Analog Africa)–Key words: “Congo,” “Funk!” (exclamation point earned), “Sound Madness,” “Mighty”–and “Analog Africa; in other words, “Merde, putain, lâche-toi le cul etjam !” (Et j’adore de la confiture!)
Various Artists: New York City Hardcore: The Way It Is (Revelation Records)–I had not heard of any of these bands, but all the vocalists sound in some way like my best friend, former ranter, opera buff, free jazz buff, French-Canadian advocate, European football nut, and scientist Mark Pelletier, so it’s a win.
Mal Waldron & Steve Lacy: The Mighty Warriors Live in Antwerp (Elemental Music)–Both these now-underrated instrumentalists started out trad, in a way–pianist Waldron accompanying twilight-era Billie Holiday, soprano saxophonist Lacy playing New Orleans jazz–but ended up taking things just out enough to be trenchantly in, and they were master players, especially live, and here they are backed by two more flexible and pretty legendary rhythm controllers you heard about last week: bassist Reggie Workman and drummer Andrew Cyrille. (Note: RSD 2024 choice now available on CD–and it might be the pick of the litter.)
Tried to keep it to 10 per month. Failed. Not even sure I didn’t fail in NOT keeping it to 10 (having trouble keeping track of what I’ve liked). Have not listened to Beyonce’s yet (other than first two singles–I just have to let her ride for awhile until the dust settles and I can think); also, I am apparently invulnerable to Katie Crutchfield’s charms (based on the songs, she is my kind of person, but her singing does not do it for me–it is what it is). Decided to do a Quarterly Top 10 (coming soon in a separate post). Blessed problems, I suppose.
MARCH TOP 25 (in alphabetical order, even, and under the feared “one sentence” rule)
Florian Arbenz: Conversation #11 / #12 (Hammer) – All twelve of this versatile Swedish percussionist’s conversations with other excellent musicians/responsive listeners are worth your time, and he gave a nice gift to every fan who bought every one of them along the way.
Citric Du: Zen and the Arcade of Beating Your Ass (Feel It Records) – Maybe it’s the marginally witty referential cover art that’s the main attraction, but their sound is redolent of its source and their songs’ words belie the title.
Guy Davis: Be Ready When I Call You (Continental Record Services) – Supposedly, this both has already been released and is not going to be released until later in the year, but it’s all there on Apple Music, and Ossie and Ruby’s son has a distinctly inherited wiliness and world view.
Joan Diaz Trio (Introducing Silvia Perez): We Sing Bill Evans (Fresh Sound Records)– Bill Evans, played and sung, you ask, but yes it works, Brazil is part of the reason, and the young Perez is the rest.
Empress Of: For Your Consideration (Major Arcana / Giant) – I feel like there is a small mountain of dreamy, sensual, hurt, flowing electronic records like this sung by women who can reach me that I can potentially hoist to the deserted island I hope is available if I need it in November.
Ethnic Heritage Ensemble: Open Me, A Higher Consciousness of Sound and Spirit(Spiritmuse) – Kahil El’Zabar is on a three-album roll keepin’ that AACM thang alive, and of the three this strikes me as the deepest.
Amaro Freitas: Y’Y (Psychic Hotline) – A gorgeous, late-night or early morning piano record out of Brazil by a terrific young pianist—and his backing band (on some of the songs) is loaded: do the names Hamid Drake, Jeff Parker, Shabaka Hitchings, or Brandee Younger ring a bell?
The Fully Celebrated Orchestra: Sob Story (Relative Pitch) – Three lively jazz orchestra selections in three months—should I be worried?
Heems & Lapgan: Lafandar (Veena Sounds / Mass Appeal India) – Dude’s funny, smart, verbally ingenious, but he’s never stuck with me long, so maybe it’s Lapgan?
Jlin: Akoma (Planet Mu) – The first song of Jerilynn Patton’s I ever heard, I was like, “I’m ridin’ ‘til I die,” and ain’t a damn thing changed about that here (touches of marching band and home cookin’ are just right), a sentiment collaborators Bjork, The Kronos Quartet, and Philip Glass might well affirm.
Adrienne Lenker: Bright Future (4AD) – It’s kinda one-note, but she (I think Lenker considers her gender undefined, but research turns up this pronoun) strikes that note with deeply moving resonance.
Mannequin Pussy: I Got Heaven (Epitaph) – And she got Jesus right (t)here.
The Messthetics: The Messthetics and James Brandon Lewis (Impulse) – My measuring sticks for jazz sax with electric band are prime OC Prime Time and James Carter’s Layin’ in the Cut, and I’ve kept waiting for this to really break loose through three plays, but as a JBL freak I’ll at least say this: it’s got dynamics and guitar feedback, the latter if which those other two didn’t, so like the Marvelettes, I’ll keep on holdin’ on….
Moor Mother: The Great Bail-Out (Anti-) – In these times she’s brave, bold, and boisterous, and the settings always put her across, which in this case are her most varied.
Kasey Musgraves: Deeper Well (Interscope / MCA Nashville) – Many are disappointed by this offering, but actual record critic Jon Pareles nailed what is working for me: a modesty that is very affecting and seems authentic, especially on the heels of her previous records (I would add too that she bares some hard-earned wisdom that’s winning).
Bill Orcutt Guitar Quartet: Four Guitars Live (Palilalia) – My favorite new (see below) record of the year: what would seem like a difficult collaborative project sounds excitingly organic—kinda makes me wish Bob Quine were still alive to hear it.
Ivo Perelman/Chad Fowler/Reggie Workman/Andrew Cyrille: Embracing the Unknown (Mahakala Music) – Perelman can wail beyond the call of the average free jazz tirekicker’s patience, but in the company of a rhythm section of two octogenarian instrumental griots, he sounds more responsive, and when he doesn’t…you can just listen to the rhythm section (and by the way, Fowler’s having a great year behind this and another stunning record).
Pissed Jeans: Half Divorced (Sub Pop) – These dudes have never hit for me, and I’m a punk self-starter, but, as Lightnin’ Hopkins and others have sung, “Now…is a needed time,” and theirs is a rallying cry.
Sai Galaxy: Okere (Soundway EP) – Everybody disco, West African style!
Sheer Mag: Playing Favorites (Third Man) – Rock and roll in many of its infinite varieties, all on one record…and that’s a compliment.
_thesmoothcat & Wino Willy: Ready, Set (Sinking City) – A) I buy everything Sinking City, a crafty New Orleans label, puts out (jazz, brass band, Indian chants, old and new school rap), and have never been disappointed; and B) this dreamy beats ‘n’ rhyme set evokes WWOZ at 3 a.m.
That Mexican OT: Texas Technician (Manifest / Good Talk / Good Money Global / Capitol) – One funny hijo de puta!
D. Clinton Thompson: Donnie’s Mood (Borrowed Records) – From out of obscurity one of the world’s great rock and roll guitarists, squirreled away in Springfield, Missouri, as usual, delivers a mostly instrumental record that “Sleep Walk” fans need—and for Morells / Symptoms / Skeletons fans who’re too late feeling their age, he pens a typically wry and weather-beaten “Live Fast Die Young.”
Tierra Whack: World Wide Whack (Interscope) – This woman is no ordinary rap artist, and I know that’s no great revelation—it’s just that to proceed from a wholly successful and delightful 15-song, 15-minute debut to a psychological (and understandable) (and still occasionally delightful) depth-plumbing that surely has some fans concerned is some kind of whiplash.
Willis, Carper, Leigh: Wonder Women of Country (Bismeaux EP) – It’s too short, and maybe there’s a full-length to follow, but the songs are strong and these women have soul—country-soul.
Coming soon! Noah Haidu:Standards II (Sunnyside) – A bewitching trio album where the spells are cast not so much by the pianist, who is definitely no slouch, but by another octogenarian rhythm section: Billy Hart on drums and Buster Williams on bass.
OLD & MISCELLANEOUS STUFF
Irakere: Teatro Amadeo Roldan Recital (Mr. Bongo) – The reissue of the first studio recording by one of Cuba’s hottest bands—and that’s saying something—is a welcome surprise.
Love Child: Never Meant to Be (12XU) – Where the fuck was I when this band was putting out these songs, fired by that guitar, in the early Nineties?
Various Artists: Love Hides All Faults—Deep Gospel Soul Selected by Jumbo(Elusive Vinyl / Pyramid Records) – I have complained to my musico-amis frequently about reissue/excavation bloat—everything ever recorded doesn’t have to be brought to market—but this may well be the most powerful compilation of locally/regionally recorded black gospel I’ve ever heard, and, despite Goner Record’s bait-line of “guitar forward” in advertising it, the real highlights are the true depth of emotional vocal power in these humble offerings and the range of arrangements they employ—can an excavation be my favorite record of the year?
Mississippi Records Blues and Gospel Bargains – Mississippi Records out of Portland does many things right (like keeping Dead Moon records in print), but one of the coolest is offering terrific old blues and black gospel comps on their Bandcamp site for “name your price.”
Franco Luambo Mkaidi: Presents Les Editions Populaires (Planet Ilunga) – The name, and you should know it, is Franco, he played a guitar like he was fencing against a master, and he could lead a band to rhythmic ecstasy—oh yeah, and though he recorded little that wasn’t great, much of it is difficult to attain (hint hint).
I think I’m going to stick to recommending just 10 new albums I enjoyed each month and highlighting some non-2024 beauties, then maybe compiling a comprehensive list at the end of June and, finally, at the end of December. Those endlessly unspooling scrolls were starting to drive me nuts, and I need additional storage in my skull. And, let’s face it, the great Tom Hull has the long-list category wrapped up like Sam & Dave. And…I need to write a bit, even if it isn’t all that insightful, as opposed to simple enthusing.
FEBRUARY TOP 10
Beyonce: “Texas Hold ‘Em” b/w “16 Carriages” (Parkwood Entertainment)—I unequivocally love this imaginary 45, which is no small statement from me, as I (like others I have observed) have issues with imperial projection. I have spent many years begging young students to understand that Black Americans have been making (and loving) (and spreading) what can fairly be called country music since the 1920s, I’ve been rigorously pointing out their growing current visibility in that genre over the last few years…so this impassioned foray is so very welcome. I feel more warmly toward Mickey Guyton, but these songs make her sound like Nancy Wilson. I can only chuckle at country radio programmers trying to stop Country Bey.
Burnt Sugar: The Reconstru-Ducted Repatriation Road-Rage ReMiXeS [of “Angels Over Oakanda’](self-released)—a cheat, in a way, as you can only obtain it by buying the vinyl version of the band’s wonderful Angels Over Oakand (or by illegally download it, but please honor and remember Greg Tate with cash). It’s sonically and creatively warped enough for one to need it as much as the original, which is among the best of Tate’s stew of funk, ‘70s Miles, Afrofuturist soul, and a sprinkling of Hendrix.
George Cartwright’s GloryLand PonyCats: Black Ants Crawling(Mahakala Records)—I am very loyal to Cartwright’s record label (free and experimental jazz out of Hot Springs, Arkansas? Yes, Pharoah was from Little Rock, but check the variety and volume of the music it puts out). Here, Aylerian alto/tenor saxophonist Cartwright and two comrades collaborate for a honking, skittering recording which the title fits perfectly.
Hurray for the Riff Raff: The Past is Still Alive(Nonesuch)—I have been rooting for Alynda Segarra since their first records; their story, their concerns, their songwriting, their conviction have always added up to my jam, but somehow their singing and music never put them over the top for me beyond first (and sometimes second) listen. This grabbed me from the first line, and, as a friend texted me, “This is a 2024 record for sure. A keeper.” The vocals sound more confident and more charged, the music doesn’t get in the way, and songs like “Hawkmoon,” “Snake Plant,” and “Colossus of Roads” forced me out of my dedication to a straight-through first hearing and into repeat plays. The inclusion of a voice mail from their late father broke my heart. I proceeded to buy the physical copy, which, I suppose, is my signal that an album is in all ways (yes, Brett) a keeper. I’m glad I hung in there.
Legendary Singing Stars: Good Old Way(Music Maker Foundation)—Yet again, here’s a label/company I believe in. It’s dedicated to getting our last generation of long-term practitioners of blues and gospel on record and into solid financial standing. Everything it touches is not exactly gold, but they seem more successful finding and recording gospel acts, and this is a great example. One might not trust the group name (“Legendary? I never heard of ‘em!”) and at first glance the title isn’t mouth-watering, but here’s some enticing tidbits: it’s live and passionate (a tribute to co-founder Tommy Ellison, who passed from cancer), the set list is certainly not the gospel same-ole, and they’re straight out of…Brooklyn. Moving.
Molly Lewis: On the Lips(Jagjaguwar)—Yes, I remember her whistling in Barbie, and it was neat. And, among other magic powers, Toots Thielemans could jazz his lips. When I noted that Lewis had a record out, I thought to myself, “I don’t need a whistler’s record” (how many of you wrestle with record need?). But…well…Pitchfork reviewed it, the cover photo and title stimulated me, I did think of Thielemans, who’s a personal favorite, and I streamed it. COOL! Noirish, mischievous, winsome, varied, catchy—in short, one of a kind and the kind of cute I go for. Please, Lord or whatever, do not let Lana Del Rey fold her in.
QOW Trio: The Hold Up (Ubuntu)—Norway jazz aficionado Chris Monsen has an unerring ear for great jazz, especially if it’s not of the States (though he’s reliable on that subject, too). He recommends one new jazz record a week and I do not question him; he provides a link, I click, and I listen. It’s scary! I fancy myself antiauthoritarian, but I do not question Chris. He recommended this release by an English unit earlier this month, and as I was doing his bidding (but also reading and not really homed in), I suddenly sat up from the couch, and said aloud (I was alone—I’m getting old), “Damn, that sounds like Sonny Rollins!” Sad secret: I don’t even read Chris’ reviews of these albums; I just play them first and go back and read them after—that’s trust. So I grabbed my phone, looked at the album track list, and bugged out at the closer: “I’m an Old Cowhand”! Suffice it to say that, if you’re missing new Rollins—we’re long past the end of that line, sadly—you best check this out. Saxophonist Riley Stone Lonergan is no imitator; he’s got his own sense of line, but he steams along with a very powerful tone and has a very familiar sense of humor. The rest of the trio are clearly listening—in some ways, also, more responsive than some of the master’s trios—resulting in an “A” recording. I’m working my way through their previous offerings, and this one’s no fluke. Isn’t it funny how often you’re reminded that you haven’t listened to every great thing?
Joel Ross: Nublues(Blue Note)—I’ve seen Ross thrice: leading a combo and supporting Makaya McCraven and Immanuel Wilkins, respectively. As a player, he’s an angular wonder. I have not been blown away by the recordings he’s made under his own name, but he always makes me sit up and take notice as a sideman. This, I think, is easily his best solo record, and if you feel reluctant when you notice the jazz classics (two well-worn Tranes and a Monk) he’s covering on it, suppress the urge to move on and listen to the interpretive magic he brings to them. His originals are great as well.
Split System: Volume 2(Legless)—No, garage punk ain’t over. Never has been in Australia. Following a lead from Memphis’ Goner Records—if you’re starved for forcebeat and two- or three-chord energy (or general aggressive outsider weirdness, Memphian and otherwise), subscribe to their mailing list—I checked out this Melbourne unit and they are like running into an electric fence. Fans of Eddy Current Suppression Ring should not tarry, but these guys don’t go on as long. Volume 1? Also, highly recommended.
Ms. Boogie & Ky Ani: The Breakdown (Ms. Boogie Records)—The surprise of the month for me. The New York rapper got a good notice from Pitchfork, but I’ve cooled a little on its rap recs, so streamed this to get it over with. Boom. They rap-whisper, in a way—like what they have to tell are secrets, but secrets one has to fight—daily. Try “Build Me Up,” where the church they attend and need wants them dead, for a convincer.
OLD & MISCELLANEOUS STUFF
Dennis Gonzalez: (with Yells with Eels and his sons) Cape of Storms (featuring Louis Moholo-Moholo / Resurrection and Life (featuring Alvin Fielder) / The Great Bydgosczc Concert (featuring Rodrigo Amado); (with Inspiration Band) Nile River Suite (featuring Henry Grimes)—The Abilene-born and Dallas/FW-headquartered Gonzalez is the most underappreciated jazz composer and bandleader of the post-Trane era. There, I said it. The music journalist Ken Shimamoto, who has been a far kinder Stanley Crouch to Gonzalez’s much more interesting Wynton Marsalis, says it better in one of the last editions of the Penguin Guide to Jazz, and Ken’s the friend that firmly advised me to sample his work. Since I did, it’s been Sally-bar-the-door. Gonzalez’s trumpet and pen knew endless variations, his sons (on bass and drums in the Yells with Eels band) were more than just acolytes, and by the time he died in 2022, he’d gained the respect of many jazz masters. Great starting points for all three claims are these records, which also showcase the distinctive movement and energy Gonzalez’s writing stimulated and prove how wonderfully he engaged with drummers. I used to experience Dylan fixations, and Lou Reed still puts a ring through my nose for weeks, but this month was the fourth time I found myself awash in Gonzalez’s work. You can’t miss with these if you’re adventurous, like some structure with your freedom, and simply want to catch up.
Trouble in Mind (THE Jerry Lee Lewis Documentary, directed by Ethan Coen)—I have been a serious Jerry Lee fan since I first heard “Crazy Arms” and read Nick Tosches’ Hellfire, I own several Killer books and docs, and, even with a Coen Brother at the helm and Mick Jagger, T-Bone Burnett, and Callie Khouri producing, I was skeptical that a) we needed another Lewis documentary, and b) anyone could really do justice to such an enigmatic force of nature, both dangerous and life-affirming. I was wrong again. In 74 minutes of mostly Jerry Lee, through clips, telling his own stories and footage even most JLL adepts have never seen, they nail it. Lone caveat: minutes and minutes of Mickey Gilley and some drama from Jimmy Swaggart, and A FEW SECONDS (!!!!) of Lewis’ wild-assed piano-pounding sister Linda Gail, who got married (the first time out of NINE—the current number as of today, I think) so she could get laid properly under the gaze of God? That’s a serious “what the fuck?” but this documentary is still very much worth your time.
Exploring Gong Culture of Southeast Asia: Massif and Archipelago—A Project by Yasuhiro Morinaga(Sub Rosa)—A typical music junkie Internet experience: I was looking for something else when I saw an ad for a Smithsonian-style collection of gong music from Cambodia. As if my cyber-brakes weren’t working, I kept clicking past it, then tried to back track and lost it. I don’t know how. I wanted gong music so badly (my lip’s always hook-ready) that, after trying in vain to find the album I’d seen an image of, I plugged “gong Cambodia” into a Discogs search and this appeared at the top of the list. I noticed the cover alluded to a David Toop intro, so—what the hell?—like Patty Hearst did to Roland’s Thompson gun, I bought it. It’s been playing enchantingly throughout my drafting this. Certain people, you know what to do!
As DJ Heraclitus said, you can’t listen to the same record twice. I was lucky to simply listen to each of these records once (I at least did that), and many of them changed with me when (if?) I came back to them. Anohni’s, though, held my top spot for most of the year and finished there: it’s not a fun record, but this ain’t a fun planet, and I don’t live in a fun state (Missouri), and her album title rings too true around here and so many other places in the world. It’s a reminder to keep fighting, keep living, and keep loving–as well as to knock people off that bridge–and it documents an artist whose singing and writing has grown considerably over the years (the commitment was always there). I might have been influenced by her appearance in two 2023 books on Lou Reed, which caused me to re-examine her early work as well as the Berlin DVD. Anyway, the untamed Niafunke guitarist Bounaly made a strong run at her top spot, even took it for a spell, but that was pure rush instead of a finely honed artistic statement of the times, so…I ended up sticking to my guns. Support trans human beings and fight the heartless to the end.
It was a stunning year for jazz, of all challenging and/or beautiful stripes, and (across genres, too) women continue to make their mark (see next ‘graf). Canto, Chimaera, and Beyond Dragons were among the Top 10 jazz records of the year by anyone, period. The indefatigable Japanese pianist Satoko Fujii (as usual) delivered multiple engaging albums of her own as well as participating in those of others (see the list–they all made it unless I missed one). Make it a 2024 project to investigate her if you’ve yet to.
Jamila Woods took Joni Mitchell to the southside of Chicago. Gina Birch still wears her Docs and plays her bass loud. boygenius are girlgenius. Jessie Ware made us feel good when Roisin Murphy made us feel bad or at best confused. Romy delivered a gorgeous, same-sex-heartbroke (please excuse my awkwardness), late-night electronic telegram. Transformative, liberating lightning hit Corinne Bailey Rae. Big Freedia grew bigger. Kari Faux, Sexxy Red, and–on a different level–K. Michelle handled their shit on the urban streets of the midwest and midsouth. And…oh yeah…Olivia (though could she not have totally rocked OUT on SNL?).
It’s easy to dismiss old soul-blues dudes. I beg of you, LISTEN: 90-year-old Bobby Rush waxed a record that isn’t just good for a nonagenarian–he can still sing, pick, blow, and parse the times with players a quarter of his age–and relative greenhorn Robert Finley handed in a hard-assed, funny, and deep record that Dan Auerbach endowed with just the right touch, do not fear.
Last, this year was the first time I actually witnessed a Top-Tenner play in person. The Columbia Experimental Music Festival went out with a bang, bringing in the titanic tenor of James Brandon Lewis, whose 2-CD For Mahalia / These are Soulful Days (the latter one of the greatest jazz-horn-with-strings performance ever recorded) was the peak of his relatively brief career. We got to see him play with one of his favorite drummers, Chad Taylor, and they ’bout blew the top off of the First Baptist Church of Columbia, Missouri. Speaking of the CEMF, the ending of which has at least temporarily crippled our music scene, its founder Matt Crook somehow found a way to bring the Ukrainian pianist and inventor of continuous music, Lubomyr Melnyk, to town for a solo piano performance in our historic Methodist church downtown. Melnyk debuted a piece called “The Sacred Thousand” at the concert; it had not yet been recorded in the studio. The Bandcamp site for the recently released version says it best: The piece is “[d]edicated to the heroic Ukrainian soldiers who held out against the enormous Russian army for several weeks in the Azov Steel Plant of Mariupol…. it is a spiritual journey into the soul of man… into the Beautiful Depths of our spiritual strength.”
Thank all of you who have visited this blog and worried that I hadn’t bathed in weeks in order to keep up. I have indeed listened to most of these albums at least twice and I vouch for their ability to move you. IF you’re receptive. Happy hollerdays and may 2024 not crush us.
My Final 2023 List
–If an album makes the list, it sounds and feels to me like the equivalent of a Pitchfork 7.5 or better, an All Music 3 ½ stars or better, or an Xgauvian **Honorable Mention or better. –At this point, one can assume that my Top 20-50 sound to me the equivalent of an A-, but I’m a teacher in my other incarnation, so watch me for grade inflation. It cannot be assumed safely, though, that my Top 10 are all straight A’s. –After the first 50, my “rankings” are a bit loose—though I’ve been toning them up to represent comparative quality to the degree my sanity is not threatened; similarly, the entirety of my “Excavations and Reissues” I rank pretty loosely other than the Top 10 (in this “final” case).
Items in bold are new to the list I posted at the end of the previous month. I just added a few today—and I’m done.
I don’t trust critics’ positive evaluations of art when they’re mostly grounded in politics (of one sort or another). Yet I am frequently guilty of it here.
Related: For much of my life I have thought women were clearly the superior of the two traditionally recognized genders. My wife has helped me sustain that viewpoint; the last seven years of public mad, toxic explosions has convinced me we are equally flawed. Just sayin’: if the upper reaches of my list are dominated by women, it’s not because I’m still guided by romantic notions.
I love jazz right now more than any other major genre. Within that larger genre, I find experimental and free jazz more interesting than its other subgenres. It engages my mind and skin more regularly than other kinds of music. That said, it’s really hard to rank such records. I could spend another hour rearranging my favorite experimental and free jazz records, and I’d change that arrangement again this afternoon. In addition, it’s been a GREAT (and scintillatingly varied) year for those.
Few country records are on my list. I’m not resistant to that genre; I just insist on distinctly unique singing (it’s a tradition) and interesting lyrics. I was weaned on George, Merle, Willie, Dolly, Lorretty, and Tammy–what can I say?
As a writer, I “come out of” punk, garage rock, and rock when it rolled–my first writing “gigs” were with punk zines. Over the last decade, a group of friends on Facebook have given me a great crash course (if a crash course can last a decade) in busting out of that particular popular/semipopular music pen, though I still like galloping around in it. It could be, as a result, that I am too eager to enthuse about intriguing poptimistic sounds. Also, some eyebrows might jump at the exclusion from the list of a certain mega-phenomenon in light of that admission. I still struggle with blandness, even impressively mounted and executed blandness. Oh, and about my punk-pen-past: if the band Dredd Foole & the Din is unfamiliar to you, change that (see “Excavations and “Reissues”).
I like music made by melanated people more than the pale offerings. I don’t think about it beforehand–it just turns out that way. Sue me.
TRUNCATED OBSERVATIONS–PAIRINGS!:
–So-called “desert blues”? Folks, if you don’t know about it or have never gotten on the train, it’s not too late to hop on, and your first stop should be Bounaly’s glowing-orange-hot wailing guitar record Dimanche a Bamako. All hail the Sahel Sounds label. Next stop: Bombino’s Sahel.
–Prolific rappers? From Canada? Yep–it’s old news. BUT…Buck 65’s placed two releases in my Top 25 records of the year, and I had to think and listen awhile before I moved one of those out of the Top 10. Crisp beats, consistently engaging words, and a confident flow. I want to pose a question to aficionados: Buck 65 or Homeboy Sandman, if you could only take one of these fecund MCs’ oeuvres to a desert island?
–Brazilian music: I forgot a prejudice! I start out leaning forward when I put on a new Brazilian record, especially if it’s been touted by Rod Taylor of the Brazil Beat blog. And this year my Top 40 (so far) contains two great and VERY DIFFERENT–yet uniquely Brazilian–releases: Adriana Calcanhotto’s addictive samba-with-Waitsian-rhythmic-flecks Errante and Filipe Catto’s dark-toned tribute to the departed tropicalia legend Gal Costa, Belezas Sao Coisis Acesas por Dentro. Note 1: Catto’s album and Anohni’s still-chart-topping My Back Was a Bridge for You to Cross is a terrific pairing as well.
The Updated List
–If an album makes the list, it sounds and feels to me like the equivalent of a Pitchfork 7.5 or better, an All Music 3 ½ stars or better, or an Xgauvian **Honorable Mention or better. –It can be assumed that my Top 30-40 sound to me the equivalent of an A-, but I’m a teacher in my other incarnation so watch me for grade inflation. It cannot be assumed safely, though, that my Top 10 are all straight A’s. –After the first 50, my “rankings” are a bit loose; similarly, the entirety of my “Excavations and Reissues” I rank pretty loosely other than the Top 3. Also, I usually jigger the rankings every month upon reflection. –Items in bold are new to the list I posted at the end of the previous month.
Note 2: I’ve repeatedly pored over this month’s list and rearranged it, after some re-listening and simple reflection. My Top 50 is approaching as much permanence as I’m capable of, though Bounaly’s record so thoroughly kicked my ass last night it may take the top spot. We also have four weeks to go….
Soul Music! I thought Robert Finley‘s very solid Sharecropper’s Son, from 2021, was probably going to be the man’s one essential offering–it seems to me hard to follow up a kind of throwback record that appears out of the blue. Unsurprisingly, I was incorrect, as Finley’s new offering is just as powerful musically as its predecessor with a wider emotional range. If that weren’t enough of a blot on my critical faculties, I was also expecting some fall-off from Chicago’s multitalented, multifaceted Jamila Woods even though I advance-ordered her new album–her first two really hit me where I needed hitting, and I suppose I didn’t want to take a chance it might happen again. Well, it did: her writing’s grown; in fact, it’s taken on a personal dimension that reminds me of Joni Mitchell, and the music suits it. You cannot go wrong with either of these individuals’ new albums if my ranking of them hasn’t already convinced you.
A writer whose work I have recommended before and will again now, and which I regularly envy, Brad Luen, remarked to me recently that there is simply a tidal wave (my quasi-paraphrase) of excellent jazz curling down upon us right now. So you love Charlie Parker? Check out Gabe Baltazar‘s lustrous bow to Bird. Can a jazz orchestra truly be supersonic? Buckle yourself in for Norwegian Gard Nilssen‘s proof (yes, it is a jazz orchestra). You can’t really interpret compositions as distinctly abstract as Roscoe Mitchell’s with vibes, can you? Well, Jason Adasiewicz thought so, and, strangely enough, his is one of my very favorite “Roscoe Mitchell” records and has helped me hear the man himself better. Can an intriguingly delicate two-record jazz set that, if you furrow your brow and bend your ear diligently enough, justifies its title The Depths of Memory, also justify its length? The nicely surnamed Kevin Sun says, “No problem,” and there’s a whole other one he has for us I’ve only sampled that seems to prove he’s not kidding. Steel guitar? Jazz? Experimental jazz? Susan Alcorn has news for us. And can Satoko Fujii turn out albums faster than John Zorn without some dip in quality, imagination, versatility, and intensity? Well, Hibiki, a trio also featuring the magic vibraphone of Taiko Saito (vibes are truly having a moment), is only the fourth record she’s on that’s made the list, so…yes. That isn’t even all of the NEW jazz records on the list–but the list is tapping its fingers on my desk.
The Fugs live! And Ed Sanders is not done! (By the way, keep your eyes peeled for his reissuing of America: A History in Verse, which he thinks and I totally agree is the best thing he’s ever written.)
Need some tranquility? Of course you do, if your eyes are open and your heart works! But none of that “nature sounds” or Muzak-y stuff, right? While it does seem like Japanese albums from the 1980s that evoke/create/embody tranquility have been pouring forth from specialty (boutique?) reissue labels for the last few years, Hiroshi Yoshimura‘s 1986 gift Surround (Temporal Drift–these folks know what they are doing) is a cut above. It will force you to sit back and take notice.
Just when I’m thinking, “Rosalia is about to cut flamenco all the way loose” (not yet! not yet!), Maria Jose Llergo‘s Ultrabella saves the day.
Tri-County Liquidators: remember their name. Their first singles were so good I pretended they were an EP and put them on earlier versions of this list, but their first full-length record, piquantly titled cut my teeth and released by Hitt Rex, justifies their growing reputation as Columbia, Missouri’s sharpest current band–and one of the best ever. I’ve lived in Columbia for 33 years and heard plenty of others, and I think that reputation is wholly justified, based on this album (I will witness for the first time Friday night). The music is dynamic and defies category–it evokes multiple subgenres within the arenas of indie, punk, and (I’m just gonna say) pandemic rock–the group operates democratically by design (everyone writes, plays, and sings), they can but don’t cover anyone else, writing songs with wide emotional range and occasional poetic dabs, and they employ a secret weapon. This does not quite honor their dedication to democracy (fucking music writers!), but Spenser Rook’s shape-shifting guitar is something well worth concentrating on. I must confess that I have known Spenser and bassist/singer/songwriter Marielle Carlos since they were high school sophomores–I taught Marielle (though I learned more from her than she did from me), and Spenser once physically guided me to play the riff to The Sonics’ “The Witch” (not exactly Joe Maphis fare in its degree of difficulty, but I am completely devoid of musical talent, so that’s a small miracle). I am straining but (I think) succeeding at maintaining critical distance, but please just listen for yourself. A band that hand-delivers its new vinyl to advance-orderers deserves at least THAT!
The Updated List
* If an album makes the list, it sounds and feels to me like the equivalent of a Pitchfork 7.5 or better, an All Music 3 ½ stars or better, or an Xgauvian **Honorable Mention or better. * It can be assumed that my Top 30-40 sound to me the equivalent of an A-, but I’m a teacher in my other incarnation so watch me for grade inflation. It cannot be assumed safely, though, that my Top 10 are all straight A’s. * After the first 50, my “rankings” are a bit loose; similarly, the entirety of my “Excavations and Reissues” I rank pretty loosely other than the Top 3. Also, I usually jigger the rankings every month upon reflection. * Items in bold are new to the list I posted at the end of the previous month.
I’m getting ready to have this conversation with one of my classes when we discuss Billie Holiday’s Lady in Satin: what is the role of pleasure in assigning an aesthetic rank to an album? I’ve thought about this quite a bit regarding my favorite album of the year, which does give some pleasure but the primary excellence of which is in its multi-faceted capturing of a frightening moment in time. I was starting to doubt myself, but someone else’s take on the album on the No Fences Substack spot bolstered my belief. My doubts were also poked a bit by the arrival of Olivia Rodrigo’s phenomenal sophomore album, but then, when holding it in my mind side by side with My Back Was a Bridge for You to Cross, moving Guts up to my #1 spot felt like a betrayal. Which might not really be about aesthetics, but then again, it is, because the art holding the response to the horror together on Anohni’s record is just as high-caliber.
James Brandon Lewis’ For Mahalia (With Love) is the most powerful jazz album of the year, and the high point in Lewis’ sterling output so far–though, if you buy the hard copy, the live concert with strings that’s added might give the main attraction a run for its money. It’s easily one of the very best of its kind, especially since Lewis’ playing and the string arrangements are more daring than what is typical; in fact, they vie with each other for most thrilling.
The albums by Romy and Mark Turner mark the first time either artist (Romy has previously been part of the xx) has broken through to me, and that’s been with a vengeance. Midair is a romantic and moving electronic dance music album; Live at The Village Vanguard features an admirably cohesive band, Turner’s playing, which has always seemed to me a more cerebral version of the Prez Style on tenor–not that Lester Young was lacking any grey matter!–is full-bodied and inventive, and the compositions are consistently interesting.
I’ve frequently pushed the recent stream of recordings by the Japanese punk band (they sound punk to me) Les Raillez Denudes that the hard-working folks at Temporal Drift Records has excavated for us. If you’ve yet to jump, Citta’ ’93 might be the best ticket so far. If you’ve never gotten enough of the Velvets’ “I Heard Her Call My Name” and wondered if that sound could ever be harnessed ever so carefully to create a style, this might also be the answer.
I saw The Replacements when Bob Stinson was still with us (when he was with us, he often wasn’t). When Tim came out I listened to it every day for weeks; I did detect the sound was weird compared to its predecessor Let It Be, but the power and desperation of the best songs spoke to me very directly at 24. I sprung (in advance) for Rhino’s “Let It Bleed” expanded version and don’t regret it; it sounds terrific, and I like the live show better than their Maxwell’s set. I think there’s some waste in the set–what else is new with such projects?–and IF ONLY Lorne Michaels could have had the grace to grant permission for a special Blu-ray of the band’s immortal performance on SNL to be included, the price would have been a bargain. A man can dream.
Attention Ornette Coleman fans: saxophonist Ohad Talmor recently gained access to a rehearsal tape featuring Coleman and Lee Konitz, and was so stunned by the results he put together a killer band to interpret the recordings it contained. It’s not quite on sale to the public yet, but I can vouch that OC diehards MUST obtain it. Here’s the Bandcamp site at which you can lie in wait.
Biggest surprises of September: listening to Corinne Bailey Rae’s wild and varied new album–that’s something I always needed more from her–and being introduced to Jelly Roll. I’d heard the name bandied about (seemed like that would be a stage name for a blues dude), I’d heard him connected to Christianity by my students in vague ways, and figured I could pass. Then his new album got a nice push from the witty and reliable Brad Luen, who, via his Substack blog, has begun colonizing a chunk of my brain, so I took a skeptical plunge while grading some essays. I couldn’t concentrate on that task for all the right reasons; I have no affection for male aggro-country vocals, and I’m an atheist, but neither fact mattered as his grapplings with demons made me pay attention.
Every semester a student opens my ears to an artist very worthwhile. I spent most of my first 28 years in the Ozarks, and about eight years of that a few miles away from where someone new to the list went to high school–you’d think I’d have gotten a heads-up before this week, but a very sharp costume-designing theater major pulled my coat and asked, “Have you heard Chappell Roan?” I hadn’t but promised I would. Suffice it to say the young lady’s first full-length album impressed the living hell out of me (that’s an appropriate metaphor). My eyebrows were touching my hairline on a regular basis–she not a little much, she’s a lot much, and in a great way. When I touched base with the student a few days later, I told her, “She’s like Lana Del Rey minus the codeine vibe, contained cool, and California.” You might say that’s a lot to subtract, but Roan’s additions go quite a way toward cancelling them out. Oh yeah: she’s currently touring with Olivia Rodrigo–I’d shell out for THAT show.
Am I wrong, or has Killer Mike’s Michael gotten a lot of lukewarm press? If I’m right, I don’t get it. I really like it, and I probably need to move it up 10-15 slots.
The most beautiful album that’s new to the list is a reissue of Os Tincaos’ Canto Coral Afrobrasiliero. What’s beautiful are the group vocals. Stunningly beautiful.
The Updated List
* If an album makes the list, it sounds and feels to me like the equivalent of a Pitchfork 7.5 or better, an All Music 3 ½ stars or better, or an Xgauvian **Honorable Mention or better. * It can be assumed that my Top 30-40 sound to me the equivalent of an A-, but I’m a teacher in my other incarnation so watch me for grade inflation. It cannot be assumed safely, though, that my Top 10 are all straight A’s. * After the first 50, my “rankings” are a bit loose; similarly, the entirety of my “Excavations and Reissues” I rank pretty loosely other than the Top 3. Also, I usually jigger the rankings every month upon reflection. * Items in bold are new to the list I posted at the end of the previous month.
Comin’ atcha from one of Al Capone’s old haunts! Nicole’s gettin’ a CBD massage in this haunted hotel’s famous spa, we got kicked out of the pool for some reserved loud wedding strutting, and I’m sippin’ Blue Moons to the tune of my $100 worth of Bandcamp Friday investments. School’s in for me, so with three freshman comp classes and tutoring, I haven’t even been able to read–man, when that happens, I’m like Antaeus without his feet on the ground. BUT…I made it, smellin’ like chlorine and all.
Suite Sweets:
*In 2009, at 75, Bobby Rush played a show at the school I taught at, to an audience composed mostly of our black students, their parents, and even grandparents. Though it fell into my lap, I still had to do some legwork; in the end, it’s one of my Top 3 greatest experiences as an educator. AT 89, Rush just delivered his best album since Live at Ground Zero and Folkfunk (if anyone’s keeping track)–a team-up with Willie awaits, and I am not joking. Their people need to think about it.
*I was starting to think Noname was too good to wax rap records, and that’s a statement of respect. I am glad to see her back in the game, elegant, concise, and powerful.
*The year’s most gorgeous jazz album might be Miguel Zenon’s second record of boleros.
*St. Louis’ best rock and roll band (Americana, if you prefer) is Money for Guns. They just released their very best record, so if you still recognize those two genres, you might wanna sniff it out. I must admit that their co-lead singer and songwriter substitute-taught at my school over a decade ago when he was a Frustrated Bachelor, but as sharp as he was, I figured he’d be teaching at this point. He wisely keep his shoulder to the musical wheel.*
*Those of you that are free jazz fans might still be processing all those Zoh Amba records from 2022. Her new one with Orcutt on guitar might be THE ONE you need if she hasn’t hooked you yet.
*I’ve been lucky enough to see Sonic Youth live at their peak (I’m calling that the Goo tour) and in their admirable, um, dotage (2002, maybe?). The new live-in-Brooklyn document is a lovely gift to us, and does it open with some painful honesty.
*Ember. Who the funk are they? Well, they just released the most fascinatingly responsive jazz record of the year. I need to do more research, but I played it out of obligation and ended up hypnotized.
*Steve Pick, my man! Thank you for pointing me to That Mexican OT. If you miss fun and outrageous rap, and maybe like Mexican wrestling, please don’t hesitate. Unless it’s to helmet-polish for a bit.
*It might set you back some, but The Village’s six-decade overview of the great Horace Tapscott’s musical world of Watts is well worth it. He is the most underrated figure in jazz history (mostly because he chose to devote his efforts to local musical work rather than pursuit of fame), and his accomplishment has never been better documented than on the Pan Afrikan Peoples Orchestra set.
*I am standing firm on my feeling that Anohni’s My Back was a Bridge for You to Cross is the most powerful (and therefore best) record of the year. I’ve been told the vibrato is too much (tell that to the ghost of Sarah Vaughan) and that the quality tails (I think it simply shifts in kind of quality), but it still haunts me, and I know I am not alone.
BONUS TIP: If you happen to love balls-out drums (especially drums)-and-guit Devotion-like wailing…check out Spiritual Drum Kingship. Sometimes you just need your ass kicked by surging plugged-in improv.
I am still behind–I feel I owe ten or fifteen records I haven’t laid ear to some time–but sometimes it be’s that way. The most important thing about this update is a new record is at the top of my list. If I graded albums, it just might be an A+. I don’t even give those to my students’essays.
I am a helpless gestaltist–I am really blown away by works that, though they must be somewhat imperfect, make a powerful impact as a whole. From its wraith-like but oh-so-corporeal vocals to its music to its lyrics to its production to its accompanying art to its title to its assessment of this world, Anohni’s My Back Was a Bridge For You To Cross checks the boxes. Even if I wasn’t a Missourian, where cruelty is our state adjective, it would have knocked me out. After all, I am still an American. I’ve always been careful not to overrate a record that is topical in ways I care deeply about, but a) the cruelty the record addresses is definitely nothing new; b) it’s an undeniable message from the targets of cruelty; and c) as a work of art, it would move me if it were sung in Sanskrit. My Back Was a Bridge For You To Cross is the best–and my favorite–album of the year. It rocks in good measure, too, for those who must have that.
I am also a helpless devotee of New Orleans music, especially any that is connected with the Mardi Gras Indian tradition. Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah’s been on a roll, but I’ve been too late to recognize his last couple of releases. Not this time. In some ways, it’s a strong pairing with Anohni’s record–but again, if it were sung in Tamasheq, I’d be down with it. Oddly, he doesn’t play much trumpet but it doesn’t really matter.
In Columbia, Missouri, the indefatigable Matt Crook, a Howard Zinn-inspired high school social studies teacher and father of two youngsters, annually puts together the Columbia Experimental Music Festival (as well as ancillary shows of fascinating variety). This year, in partnership with another great local and annual offering, the We Always Swing Jazz Series, Matt and WAS founder Jon Poses will be bringing the Sun Ra Arkestra to our citizens. I saw Sun Ra himself with the Arkestra here twice, once in the late Eighties and once in the early Nineties, shortly after which The Sun One passed. I’d never have expected that, in 2023, I’d be seeing bandleader Marshall Allen still blowing at 99. I mention Allen because he and fellow Arkestra member Knoel Scott come very correct on the latter’s new album Celestial. Reaper, stay thy scythe.
For Mr. Crook, “experimental” folds in hip hop culture, and why shouldn’t it? Last year, he arranged for three pretty underground figures to give a beat- and bar-making workshop at a local high school; this year, he’s snagged London-born, Queens-raised, Bed Stuy-representing Rome Streetz, whom I’d never heard of (Matt always snaps my earlids up like roller blinds). He’s tough, talented, and worth your time–even if you can’t come to Columbia for the fest.
Regarding the Coltrane and Simone excavations–you’ve probably already heard this–temper your sonic expectations and instead focus on the expression and before-your-very-ears musical evolution you’re experiencing. Evolution isn’t ever…pristine.
Living To Listen 