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!
Living To Listen 