Records that I enjoyed in 2019.

Here are a few records I enjoyed this year. Maybe you have/will enjoy them, as well.

Spread the Feeling (Pernice Brothers)
Sure, I enjoy those relatively recent New Mendicants and Scud Mountain Boys records and Joe Pernice’s twitter feed, but it’s been forever since the last Pernice Brothers record. As bad as it may sound, I had kinda resigned myself to the idea that there may not be another one. Spread the Feeling reminds me again why I love Pernice: quotable lyrics, Byrds guitars, a little New Order, and amazing bridges. (If you’re new to Pernice, I think he’s kind of like AC Newman, when, at his best, he combines disparate influences into something coherent and unbelievably catchy.) You know, he could have easily made a really long album to make up for lost time. But instead, he made a eleven-song album that I just want to keep flipping over and starting again.

Never Know (Author of the Accident)
I don’t really know much about Allison Chhorn, Australian artist who records under the name Author of the Accident. One day early this year, Never Know showed up in a search result for shoegaze on Bandcamp. I spent quite a bit of alone time with this record, without the help of a review or magazine article. But I think that lack of attention that Chhorn receives only adds to the mystique. There’s a dreamy, almost Velour 100 or early Map vibe at time that I enjoy. Arrangements are sparse, and the recording a little homespun. And because it’s only eight songs, Never Know doesn’t feel too long. Allison, if you’re reading this, please make more music. Thanks!

Undercurrents (Hammock)
Undercurrents was a serial album, with Hammock posting a song on its Bandcamp page each month this year. (This approach kept me aware of the record all year, which doesn’t seem to happen with streaming. Nowadays, a month seems like a year and we quickly forget about new albums.) Each song on Undercurrents is nearly 20 minutes, making the entire album nearly four hours in length. The usual Hammock-y things are here: dreamy guitars, occasional cello, and delay on the drum machine. Look, there’s no way to really discuss an album of this magnitude, but it was certainly an audacious and respectable undertaking. While maybe not really necessary for most fans, it is a beautiful record and I love it.

Flamagra (Flying Lotus)
While I like Flamagra, it’s certainly not one of my favorite FlyLo albums. But when you have a kid who loves a record, you end up listening to it a lot.

Zeppelin Over China/Warp and Woof/Sweating the Plague (Guided by Voices)
A significant amount of digital ink is spilled in Guided by Voices Facebook groups about which lineup is the best, so I’m not really going to add anything significant to that conversation. But I can say that Bob Pollard has been on a tear with this new(-ish) lineup. Very few filler tracks this year, spread across three albums (one of which was a double album). I love all three of these records.

Bioluminescence (Teen Daze)
Jamison Isaak keeps doing his thing, mixing electronic and organic sounds. I feel like he might be getting better and better at realizing his vision with each release. Or at least it feels like he’s on a journey to somewhere who knows, but I’m along for the ride. Bioluminesence is a little fuzzy, a little new age-y, a little Tangerine Dream, and maybe little ambient house. And, on many tracks, all at the same time. I enjoy this kind of music to work to.

There is No Feeling Better (Mike Adams at His Honest Weight)
Thing is, most bands trade in songwriting for cleaner production and better drum sounds. Fortunately for us, Mike Adams never got that memo. The hooks and gorgeous vocals are here, like always, but the arrangements seem even more clean this time around. (I think I said the same thing about his last album, Casino Drone; Mike just keeps getting better.) Sure, it still sounds like Mike’s spending lots of time with his Starflyer 59 and early Weezer records, but there are some songs on There is No Feeling Better that are more Friends-era Beach Boys than Friends-era Beach Boys.

Life Metal/Pyroclasts (Sunn O))))
Like many people, I was excited to read that Sunn O))) would be recording an album with Steve Albini. But then I wondered why on earth hasn’t Sunn O))) worked with Albini before now? And when I listened to Life Metal, I hoped they would record again with him and then they announced their new record Pyroclasts was recorded at the same sessions as Life Metal and then oh my goodness these records are fantastic and they almost feel like two parts of the same album. If you’ve never listened to the band, it plays really slow, sludgy metal. Not that I’ve listened to a glacier move before, but I’m guessing the band kinda sounds like a glacier moving. I don’t know, whatever. You try to describe these records without sounding ridiculous. I guess there’s maybe a little more “going on” with Life Metal to make it “accessible”? You know, with organs, vocals, horses, and whatnot. But I don’t really compare the two.

Come What May (Joshua Redman Quartet)
The last time Redman recorded with this quartet was on the very excellent record Beyond, nineteen years ago. And, like that record, Come What May is especially catchy. Like some of his best work, Redman’s playing here can be soulful and referential in ways that feel inviting. I feel like I’ve heard this record before, but in the best way possible. Oh yeah, and his show at The Folly this autumn was fun. I felt like Gregory Hutchinson was the star of the show, with a couple amazing, melodic(?) drum solos.

Young in My Head (Starflyer 59)
I’ve only met Jason Martin a few times. Although he’s not exactly talkative, it feels like we’ve been friends for a long time. 25 years, in fact, as he reminds us in the song “Remind Me.” And what do say about an old friend? He still tips his hat a lot to Terry Scott Taylor and Joey Santiago and keeps writing songs about getting old and obsolete, but this record feels a little different. It feels maybe a little more like a “solo” album, but it also rocks. Not quite like his jump from Gold to Americana, but Young in My Head feels more like a rock album than he’s made since Old. And is it me, or is Jason starting to sound a lot like the dude from Future Islands on this record?

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Ten favorites from 2018

What does it mean to write about music when most people can instantly access new music, with or without subscription services? Because music is a relational thing, maybe we need to focus our writing more on the context for the music: people involved in making it, the scene (or lack thereof) that gave rise to the music, how we experience the music, how the music shapes us, and probably even the chicanery involved in creating it.

So, this year, I want to emphasize context a little more than describing how my favorite records sound. I am not going to rank my list, because I think they’re all pretty great for different reasons.

Not Thrilled by Fine China

After some very good reunions by Swevedriver, Loop, The Dream Syndicate, Ride, and Slowdive, “getting the band back together” isn’t as bad as it once sounded. Add Fine China to that list. Sure, Rob Withem has made some great synthpop with Foxglove Hunt since the last Fine China record was released 13 years ago, but I didn’t expect a comeback album to be quite this good. Sure, it’s more of the same Smiths-meets-New Order stuff like they’ve always done (long, long before bands on Captured Tracks tried the same thing), but Withem has also been listening to Dire Straits and working on his vocals. I sure hope this isn’t the final Fine China record.

 

The Sky Looks Different Here by Paper Dollhouse

I don’t really know where ambient pop ends and dreampop begins, but I’m guessing Paper Dollhouse is somewhere in the middle. Sometimes fully-formed, and sometimes only snippets and soundscapes, the songs seem to just float by, as electronica and dub are buried beneath blankets of reverb. It kinda sounds like the group listens a lot of 4AD records that I also enjoy so maybe it’s referential and nostalgic, but the record also feels like the future. Furthermore, nobody seems to mind when they enter my office and I’m playing Paper Dollhouse. It’s kinda like the weird music that I can get away with.

 

Singularity by Jon Hopkins

When we had a baby, I feared that I’d spend my life being annoyed by Imagine Dragons or Hot Chelle Rae or something else that my son would love. But for now, he loves Jon Hopkins (and I’m perfectly fine with that). And since our son is seven and you must play songs to death when you’re a kid, we listened to Singularity a lot.

 

Absence by Kristjan Randalu

With my new job, I spend a lot of my time in an office, not in a classroom. So I find myself streaming quite a bit of music as I do paperwork. Then I become aware of how instant access to so much music might be changing me. Then I started to second-guess my feelings about the albums I enjoyed on Spotify. How could I call an album a year-end favorite if I hadn’t actually purchased it?

Absence is one such album. I haven’t purchased it (yet), so how could I call it a favorite? I’ve bought so many other ECM releases in the past, so what’s stopping me now? Where’s my commitment? Sheesh. I guess these are sorta legitimate questions, but still. Why am I so hard on myself?

Randalu is an Estonian pianist who plays in that airy, spacious, European style. The songs are focused, but they also just kinda float. I like this record a lot. I guess that’s all that matters to make it on my year-end list.

 

September Love by Stephen’s Shore

Another weird thing about music now is how, because it’s too expensive to fill your closet with records that you’ll never sell, some bands will press only a limited number of records. I get it. I still have about 15 three-inch CDs I burnt for a small tour I played back in 2002. But I also don’t feel like paying $80 for a band’s new LP on Discogs just because I learn about an album a month after the band sold out of the 25 LPs it pressed for a short tour. So until Meritorio Records re-issues the record, I guess I’ll just keep streaming it.

 

Portrait with Firewood by Djrum

I think Portrait with Firewood benefits from a single, uninterrupted listen. The album feels like a long journey through drum and bass, sparse passages of Keith Jarrett-ish improvisational piano, and even some unexpected cello arrangements. Sorry, I don’t really know how to describe this record. And I feel that’s a great thing.

 

Look Now by Elvis Costello and the Imposters

By the this point, Elvis is basically like an old friend to me. Sometimes I don’t know how good his records really are; I just buy them. He’s a great collaborator, but there’s no way he’s going to make another full-length albums with Allen Toussaint, The Roots, or Burt Bacharach. And then there was the cancer diagnosis. So I started to wonder if he’d ever release another really good solo album again. But oh my, Look Now feels like a return to Imperial Bedroom, elegant and still a little snarky. Pretty much everything I need from an Elvis Costello record.

 

Both Directions at Once by John Coltrane

Was Brian WIlson’s Smile a new record back in 2004? I’m not sure. Is Both Directions at Once, with its previously unreleased recordings, a new record? I say yes.

The songs here aren’t the usual uninteresting rough drafts for an artist’s later, more realized work. These songs were intended for a release and might have stood up well next to albums like Coltrane and Ballads. (At least I’d like to think so. But who really knows?) Plenty of (digital) ink was spilled to promote this album, featuring some outlandish claims by labels, publicists, and respected jazz artists. Not sure that I can add to the conversation in any meaningful way, but I’ve enjoyed listening to this record this year with my son.

 

Zebra by Arp

I usually buy vinyl, but sometimes I still buy CDs. This was one of the CDs I bought in 2018.

 

The Hex by Richard Swift

By 2003, I had been making music for a while. And somehow, Richard Swift obtained a CD with some of my songs. Then one of my friends got on AOL Instant Messenger after seeing Starflyer 59 play somewhere in Arizona and told me that Swift was raving about my song, “Heart Beat Next to Mine.”

Thing is, I don’t know how he got a copy of my CD. But it led to an interesting pen pal relationship where Swift would email me about his favorite Harry Nilsson records. We met a few times, and he seemed really nice. Swift became sorta like my muse, even when he moved on to playing with and producing much bigger bands.

Over the past ten years or so, Swift dabbled in old R&B, Beefheart, and doo-woppy fragments with varying results. I’d always wanted more songs than sounds and snippets from him, you know maybe a proper follow-up to Atlantic Ocean or something. But he was an artist who followed his own muse and I had to be okay with that. (It wasn’t like he was twiddling his thumbs. Swift spent the past decade producing some truly great albums for other artists.)  And now, The Hex seems like the follow-up I wanted. But since Swift passed before the album was released, it’ll also be his swan song.