This post was motivated by the thought that people might believe, as I did, that little notable music could have been released in the midst of a pandemic. It turns out that that is far from true: Wikipedia lists 1073 albums released in 2020, and this is probably not complete. A lot of the releases are live recordings, re-issues, EP's, Christmas albums and the like, as well as dozens of releases by new indie artists who I do not know and do not have time to investigate. So I am going to focus on the tried and true, with a sampling of lesser known contemporary artists.
Although it ranks as some kind of accomplishment to have put out an album at all during the worldwide health crisis, not many of these albums represent some technically awe-inspiring act of collaborative music-making over physically isolated electronic channels, as with some of what we saw in online broadcasts this past year.
Rather, many of them were recorded prior to the spread of COVID-19, the rest of the work being largely a matter of digital manipulation that can be done in the privacy of a recording studio, or, these days, at a desk in in one's bedroom. Some may have just gotten in under the wire before all hell broke loose (Nektar, Green Day), while others represent work accumulated over many years (Tower of Power), or recorded as part of a larger project that had only been partially released (My Morning Jacket), or actually dug out of the archives (Neil Young).
Quite a few, though, are stripped-down solo projects that might be largely done in isolation during a lockdown. Since I've been at work on my own such project, I would not underestimate the challenge of making music like that. In some cases, the results were surprisingly good; in others, they show that someone badly needed a little feedback.
Before we go on, let's take a minute to remember some important musicians who were lost to this bug: John Prine, Charlie Pride, Trini Lopez, Adam Schlesinger (of Fountains of Wayne and other bands), Joe Diffie - and that's just a few of the better known names. Their loss sucks big time, for even if many of them were not in their prime, there is no such thing as a swan song from a living artist. We've lost the chance for some more valuable contributions from them. But for those still in this world, one thing that didn't die is the music.
As a sometime performing singer-songwriter myself, I also have to mention that throughout my career (such as it is) I have known and loved recordings by dozens of mainly acoustic musicians who don't register on Billboard chards and Top 40 lists, but are no less admirable for all that. My list below is not a tally of all the worthwhile music released last year, just a jaunt through mostly familiar territory that far from exhausts what's worth listening to.
For example, my friend Dusty Wright released Can Anyone Hear Me? in 2020. He also brought to my attention John Howard's new recording, To the Left of the Moon's Reflection. I noticed that Rod MacDonald had another album in 2020, Boulevard; he was recording in the same studio I was when I recorded my only album (so far) many years ago. Colleen Kattau, who I knew as one of the finest singers around in those days, just released Besos Kisses, and she is still a pleasure to listen to. I hereby award 10 stars to each of them, and to every other album that is a result of the hard work, perseverance, love of music and fine thoughts about the state of the world from independent artists. The financial rewards for them are small (if not negative) but they keep turning out songs worth hearing.
One more thing: I'm not including any links, because generally they seem to be superfluous. All the albums and artists mentioned in this post are available on Spotify, information about the bands and artists is available on Wikipedia, many of the videos are on YouTube and the physical media or downloads are available from you-know-which online shopping site or your favorite music store. Occasionally I've taken a tidbit of information from some web site or another, but nothing so important that it really needs a reference. Enjoy the write-ups, and if you wish to do so follow up with your favorite music site/app/source.
As always, your comments are appreciated - even if for some odd reason you disagree with my judgments!
How I Rated the Albums
I feel like I should shout this in all CAPS, to avoid giving the opposite impression: although I have numbered the albums 1- 40, other than dividing them into the approximate decades in which the groups came to public attention, the albums are listed in no particular order. This is not an annual "Top 40" - just 40 picks from some of the better known artists who released albums in 2020, and a handful of lesser known ones who deserve attention.
I have used a simple rating system, recording my impressions after one or two close listenings: one star (*) means "this is at least a pretty good set of songs", two (**) would be "a damn good album, no question", and three (***) is something like "this seems like a bleeding masterpiece!" A few albums also received a plus sign (+) rating, which means roughly "I'm not sure I like it, but it is at least interesting". As to what is worth a listen, the answer is all of them - there's not a single album mentioned here that I would not listen to again. Any of the judgments I've made could morph into stronger or weaker ratings over time, but that is always the case with musical opinions. We grow into or out of our initial impressions; some are unshakable, others we look back on and say, "I thought that??"
I'll throw in one more caveat: my
assessments are about songwriting, first of all, and secondly performance and
production. I do not even look at most of the videos. Also, I try to maintain a critical distance even from artists and bands I am totally invested in, as you will see from the first two reviews. The ratings
here are a straightforward reflection of how much I liked this particular group
of tracks, and nothing else.
Ten Solo Acts You Know and Possibly Love
1. Paul McCartney, McCartney III
Is this what we've been waiting 50 years for? McCartney was a decidedly
low-key album, almost a quarter of it instrumentals, and nothing much happening
until the 12th cut, then goodbye. Maybe I was not amazed; in fact, definitely.
It had none of the awe-inspiring songwriting that characterized at least three
of his other incarnations - Beatle Paul, Ram Paul, and Winged Paul - not to
mention the fact that it played a significant role in the Beatles' breakup. He
calls it an "indie" thing; to me, it's best forgotten, but for one
cut.
McCartney II was a different ball of wax, an engaging set of songs with
creative production ideas. The songwriting may not be up to his best albums,
but it's far from his worst, I think. It got a lot of poor reviews like the
first one, but it has a lot of advocates too. Still, did it necessarily scream
out for yet another me-myself-and-I effort? Is Paul a glutton for punishment,
or is there a point to all this?
McCartney III is here now, and I mean - the low-fi thing was understandable
on the original, where he was depressed and actually isolating himself and only
had a very primitive recording system on hand. So now we have the international
COVID-19 lockdown, on and off, and it seems to make sense to do the same sort
of thing, an isolation album. But isn't the DIY posture a bit hard to believe
from a guy who's been making records for six decades, when top notch recordings
can be done on a laptop with a decent mike and a cheap interface?
And what about the music? "Decent" is about as far as I would go with regard to any of the eleven cuts on the record, except maybe the opening instrumental. I doubt this is McCartney's last album but it's the last of this trilogy, and it's not great.
The truth is, I have been generally
unimpressed with the recent endgame efforts of some of my earlier heroes, even
as the press tends to give them a lot of attention. Paul Simon's final album, or
so he'd have us believe, was not great. Bowie's last couple of albums too,
though the title cut of Blackstar is gripping, and of course there was
"Valentine's Day". The last essential Stones album was a more or less
spontaneous set of blues covers in 2016; who can even remember the last
important set of originals from them? I can't think of the last Neil Young
album of new material that really blew me away. Joni Mitchell's Shine
was brilliant; that was in 2007, half a lifetime ago. Has that generation finally
given up writing decent songs?
+2. Bob Dylan, Rough and Rowdy Ways
The Man Who Sold His Catalogue for an estimated $300 million has gotten more
attention for this album than anything since Love and Theft (2001), to
my recollection. The Tempest (2012) had some pretty good songwriting -
it will never knock Blood on the Tracks off the rails, but it was a
respectable latter-day effort. Did he outdo it eight years later, at the ripe
young age of 79? This one has been greeted almost like the second coming of
folk-Jesus.
One thing I'll say: Dylan's voice gave out 20 years before it should have, and
30 years later, when he should be unlistenable, instead he's learned how to use
it in a way that almost sounds appealing, a gravelly baritone that now conveys
character rather than someone gargling with whiskey. And he can actually carry
a tune when he wants to. This is all good news.
But the big thing is of course the
songs, and the question is, what hath Dylan wrought? As a folk musician, he is
something like the largest deity in my universe, and the album has been very
widely praised. Yet I'm not giving it even one star, for which I have taken a
few bullets even before publishing. So let's talk about it a little.
"Murder Most Foul" is the big statement here, but what statement is it? Initially it's a song - to be charitable - about the assassination of President Kennedy, with Jack Ruby as "Wolfman Jack" and references to the conspiracy theory that suggests Oswald was a patsy ("like Patsy Cline"...?) Dylan also appears to suggest that VP Lyndon Johnson was involved, a discredited idea with about as much veracity as QAnon. There follows a long series of allusions to music and culture, largely though not exclusively of the sixties, including obscure references like the one to artist Karl Wirsum, whose art was influenced by the 1960's Chicago blues scene. At several points Dylan also suggests that the Devil was behind the whole plot; I mean, sure.
My biggest question is: did we need this song at this time? We just lived through a nightmare of a presidency characterized by outlandish conspiracy theories, and Dylan offers us a rehash of an old one. What sort of judgment is this? Oswald may have had an accomplice who fired from the grassy knoll; that is the only "conspiracy" that remains the least bit credible. This well-known issue doesn't seem worth reviving in an 18-minute song. My next question is, what do all the cultural references have to do with the Kennedy assassination? It seems like an opportunity to press a bunch of popular song titles into service as comments on the evils of the assassination, which frankly leaves me cold as both poetry and social commentary. Some have attempted to read them as a form of solace in troubled times; nice thought, but Dylan offers no evidence that he is even aware there is a psychotic president and a worldwide health crisis. The reactionary Christian nationalism of the time doesn't seem to faze him either, as he hauls out the Kennedy horror as an example of the devil's work. Honestly, I'd trade the entire song for the line,"Sometimes even the President of the United States must have to stand naked".
What about "I Contain Multitudes"? It's a lot shorter, more personal, more poetic, at times more obscure and again highly referential. While it's interesting to see what comes to the mind of a songwriting genius when he writes about himself, I'm not sure it's utlimately any clearer what he does think about himself when it's all over. His early song "My Back Pages" and "Scarlet Town" from The Tempest (which has a lot in common with "Multitudes") both speak to me more than this hermetic ramble through what may be some of his influences.
Aside from the lyrics, there is something I can't quite love about the music on this album. Although these two tracks, and certain others (like "Black Rider") have a bit more going on musically than they appear to on first listening, they tend to plod along rhythmically: a chord is strummed, another chord is strummed, or a keyboard track changes chords without any particular fanfare. I certainly don't hear anything with the singalong qualities of "Duquesne Whistle" on Tempest. The music seems almost perfunctory, like what he really wanted to do was just read the lyrics. Maybe that would have been better.
When all is said and done, I'm not sure where this album stands. I'm inclined to see it as an almost-but-not-quite, like perhaps Empire Burlesque. Some may find it more on a par with Time Out of Mind, which also doesn't impress me as much as it does some other Dylan fans, or with Love and Theft, which certainly had its merits. Given that it's Dylan, I will almost certainly spend more time with it before I'm sure what I think. In fact, if anyone but Dylan had released it I suspect we would not even be discussing it. But there is and will ever be only one Bob Dylan, so we do, and we should.
**3. Bruce Springsteen, Letter From Home
Here's one from the Boss with a kickoff song that showcases his acoustic instincts, then moves into a set of rockers that reach for and often hit the heights of earlier Springsteen recordings - songs like "Last Man Standing" and "The Power of Prayer". The simple but effective "House of a Thousand Guitars" seems like an anthem of sorts, though for whom I'm not quite sure. With a few songs that seem like Springsteen classics-to-be and nothing that is less than pretty good, I suspect this will take its place with the Springsteen albums you end up listening to in their entirety and not just for a couple of power-pop hits.
Be aware that there are some significant borrowings here; a Neil Young vocal line from "Cowgirl in the Sand" ends up as the main guitar riff in "Last Man Standing" (recall how Coldplay got in trouble for the opposite sort of acquisition from a Joe Satriani guitar line), and "Song for Orphans" owes more than a tiny bit to Dylan's "My Back Pages"(which may itself owe something to traditional folk material). Then there's the allusively titled "Janie Needs a Shooter", which raises the question, what happened to the gun she got back in 1989 on Aerosmith's Pump? Anyway, like Dylan, the Boss is a great enough songwriter that he can make this stuff his own, and you'll probably forget the references after hearing it a few times.
4. Elvis Costello, Hey Clockface
I will admit that the last time I paid serious attention to him Ronald Reagan was President. I will also admit that the best thing I've heard by him since then is the theme song to Pete the Cat (he's one groovy dude...). Apart from that, a song here and there, nothing that made a huge impression.
This set starts out well enough - after a brief spoken intro he breaks into "No Flag", a rocker that leaves nothing to be desired, followed by a ballad that is at least well executed, if not exactly the new "Alison". After that, though, I'm a little lost. The only other song that stands out in the rock department is "Hetty O'Hara Confidential", and the only other ballad that really nails it is the last song, "Byline". That is a reasonable number of decent songs, but with nine others to get through it's still a bit of a trying experience.
One of the issues is that Costello's voice, though still occasionally effective, is not a good enough vehicle for some of the slower songs that could perhaps pick up a bit with a full-blooded crooner behind them. There are nice, subtle production touches throughout the album, though. A bit of a mixed bag, but 43 years after My Aim Is True, his aim is, let's say, better than a wild pitch.
+5. Fiona Apple, Fetch the Bolt Cutters
If there is a Grammy for original album titles I think I know who's getting it
this year. That said, what to do with this set of percussive neo-soul from the
supposedly blue-eyed singer? (They look like glacial ice to me, whatever color
that is.) This album is a head-scratcher. But that appraisal isn't very
different from my take on some of her previous albums. I tend to find more high
points on Tidal and Extraordinary Machine than the others, but
there is a certain feeling of trying to figure out what she's up to on all of
them. She takes her time between albums, yet I'm still trying to assimilate The
Idler Wheel... (2012) - though I've given up on memorizing the full title.
I don't want to criticize her flights of musical fancy; artists should explore, and in fact I often prefer the failed experiments to successful work that reminds me of 17 things I've heard before. Of course, what I like best is the successful experiments. So is this one? Does it break new ground for her? Does it ever settle down enough to say "I like it" or "I don't"? I'm not any more sure about that than about her eye color, but at least I never find her boring.
In case you didn't know, Ms. Apple has achieved immortality for her contribution to another album on this list: the fingers behind the moody tinkling on Dylan's "Murder Most Foul" are hers.
***6. Steve Earle, Ghosts of West Virginia
I've followed him only sporadically after ending up with a couple of his early CD's. He's a serious guy with good intentions, but his albums haven't always sent thrills up my spine. Some of the better recent ones were tribute albums (Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark). This one is all originals, and to my ears he aced it. One of the best alt-country sets I've heard, especially if you consider the combined virtues of authenticity and great songwriting.
A tribute to the miners lost in the 2010 Upper Big Branch explosion, its feels like a back porch jam that just went so right it had to be released as an album. That sense that the songs rolled right off the West Viriginia hills is actually a tremendous feat of songwriting. Reminds me of the first time I heard John Hiatt's 2001 album The Tiki Bar Is Open - another prolific alt-country songwriter who sometimes feels too prolific to be consistently good. My sense is that this is the Steve Earle album we've been waiting for since I don't know when - Transcendental Blues?
7. Lucinda Williams, Good Souls, Better Angels
Lucinda Williams somehow seems to have found a portal to Patti Smith's brain, and I'm not sure I want to go there with her. Her previous album was a gorgeous collaboration with Charles Lloyd, and before that I remain under the impression that she was Lucinda Williams. Now, on an album that has more than one apparent reference to President Voldemort, she attempts to kick out a number of angry protests. The thought is appreciated, but the execution is problematic.
The main issue is that whatever you think of the quality of the songs, she does not have the voice for this sort of effort. Her voice is still viable, and there are at least three beautiful country-ish numbers in the latter half of the set that are nothing less than Lucinda Williams as we know and love her. But age (67) and perhaps other things have been catching up with her vocals, and she is not up to the challenge of the rock-and-roll articulation needed for much of this album. The result is that where she sounds plaintive on the country numbers, on many of the others she sounds like she had way too much to drink, fell asleep, and was suddenly woken up and dragged to the recording studio by her manager.
There are some virtues besides the sweet old country numbers, though. Some of the instrumental work on the album is commendable and helps the songs along, giving us a break from the overwrought vocals. And her lyrics are another of the album's better features; aside from the not-exactly-understated antifa sentiments, there are some very creative touches, as in "Big Rotator". So let's not write this off, exactly; maybe just give her a little nudge back in the direction of the first few cuts on The Ghosts of Highway 20 (2016), which combined novelty with inspiration while remaining within the mould that is clearly her comfort zone.
**8. Neil Young, Homegrown
Neil Young has a new album out. It was recorded in 1974. Huh? Truth is, only hardcore Young fans can follow the ins and outs of his recordings, released and unreleased, throughout the 1970's. Several of the songs on this album have been previously released, e.g., on Decade (1977); yet, this is not exactly a collection. Rather, this set, or one overlapping it but including other compositions recorded around the same time, is the (famously, for Young fans) unreleased album that was supposed to come out in the spree that included On the Beach (1974), Zuma (1975) and Tonight's the Night (1975), but was held back because it consisted largely of thoughts on the breakdown of his relationship with Carrie Snodgrass which he found to be too much of a bummer at the time.
So, in the midst of a 45th anniversary spree of archival releases at a time when making new studio recordings has been challenging, Young has finally had the album remastered from the original tapes and laid it on his breathless following. It is hard to think of many albums that are classics the day they are released, but with "Love Is a Rose" already one of his better-known songs, "Homegrown" and "Star of Bethlehem known from American Stars 'n Bars (1977), and "Little Wing" familiar from Hawks & Doves (1980), this album just has to walk down the waiting red carpet. For a deeper dive into unreleased material see his Archives, Volume II: 1972-1976, also released in 2020.
**9. Gordon Lightfoot, Solo
It sometimes feels as if Canada produces a folksinger for every 10 children born there, and for all that, Gordon Lightfoot pretty much remains at the top of the list for most people. (At least if we discount Canadian ex-pats Joni Mitchell and Neil Young.) This is an elite position to hold, and it is not going to slip with his latest, Solo.
Solo it is, a true lockdown album: just Gordon and his acoustic guitar. And that's about all he needs, because he is still one of the finest songwriters around, and for the most part he can still put over his songs. His voice has weakened a bit - not surprising given not only his age but numerous serious medical problems over the years - yet, like the equally beloved John Prine before his death from COVID-19 (he had suffered from lung cancer and other issues), Lightfoot soldiers on, and it takes a careful ear to notice the differences.
Whatever the album's technical merits, there are no throwaway songs among the ten in this set; each is a polished specimen of what Lightfoot has been doing since... 1966? I didn't even realize he'd been at it that long, but yes, 55 years of "Early Morning Rain" and everything that followed. This is only his third album of new material since Waiting For You (1993), and holds up very well by comparison, both lyrically and musically. It's hard to say which songs from this collection will win the popularity contest - on Waiting For You it was "Ring Them Bells" - but I'd be happy to cover any of them.
10. Bruce Hornsby, Non-Secure Connection
Hornsby has often been willing to step well outside the folk/blues tradition he started in, showcasing his skills as a jazz player, a film composer and occasionally dabbling in the avant-garde. Whatever he does, his chops at the keyboard are beyond criticism; versatile, inventive and one of the most technically competent players in popular music.
His last two albums have been prone to experimental side trips, and had this been a review of his 1999 offering Absolute Zero it certainly would have earned a star or two. On this set, though, there are too many cuts where I'm not sure he's doing more than rambling around vocally, pretending there's a song or composition in the background. He has always been attracted to somewhat jagged melodic lines (roughly similar to Joe Jackson in that respect) but some of this album just feels melodically awkward. The cuts range from more typical Hornsby material, i.e., comparable to earlier work like Harbor Lights (1993) to the title cut, in which I detect some creeping "Blackstar" influence, to other tunes that just seem to meander aimlessly. He's been a person of interest since 1986, and this is just a stop along the road. I anticipate he'll be back with more well-honed compositions in the future.
The 1970's: Working in the Lockdown
**11. Nektar, The Other Side
The year 2016 was a far worse one for music, in terms of lives lost, than 2020, and one of those who went down was Roye Albrighton of Nektar. Although I have seen the band, among my favorite prog rock artists, in a number of different formations, it was always hard to think of them as Nektar without him and his guitar work. But the group, including two of the original musicians and some re-attached former members, has persevered, and released this new album in January, just before COVID gathered steam. Ryche Chlanda, who briefly played with Nektar in 1978, does the guitar honors, and though he is not Roye, he is pretty darn good.
Impressions? For me, they did it right: pulling no punches and making no concessions to current trends, they turned out a real early-70's prog recording, full of synthesized sounds and pyrotechnics and the thrill of pushing the form of the rock song to its limits. A comparison comes to mind: what the Blues Magoos did with their 2014 set Psychedelic Resurrection, which is to say, if you're going to make psychedelic rock, then damn well make it and don't apologize. This is prog without apologies, and feels more like the classic stuff than the efforts of a number of very well-meaning contemporary practitioners.
So the music gets a thumbs up, or two, but the lyrics - I mean, who starts off an album today with a chorus of "take it higher... I'm on fire... burning desire"? Ha ha - at least one other album on this list sports a song with virutally the same rhymes. Give the cliches a break, man, and write some freakin' lyrics. But Nektar's lyrics always ranged from the sublime (some of A Tab in the Ocean, maybe Down to Earth) to the fairly puerile. I gave them a pass then, and I'll do so now. Whatever it takes to make some serious prog rock, go for it.
12. Kansas, The Absence of Presence
Kansas is on my short list of latecomer prog rock bands that ruined FM radio in the late 1970's, and this album won't do anything to get them off it. But it does conform to my just-enunciated sentiment that if you're going to do prog today, do it and don't back down, or pander to contemporary taste while also trying to drag along a graying prog rock audience (like me). That is to say, if what you liked was the "prog" of Kansas, Journey, Rush, Toto, Styx and other combos of that era, you should like this just fine. Plenty of orchestral interludes, keyboard riffing, extended compositions, unusual rhythms and time signatures - the whole works. Only for me, it doesn't work. Rather, it seems like a lot of bombast, a series of overtures to cosmic events that aren't happening, philosophical musings that don't make me any the wiser.
If you are scratching your head and asking, "Why do these guys get jacked up and Nektar gets a pass?", the answer is, timing. For me, prog was largely over by 1977; I could count on one hand the great progressive rock albums that came out later (Pink Floyd's The Wall, mainly). Kansas and their cohorts were trying to breathe life into a dead animal; and unlike the post-punk and New Wave bands who followed the short-lived punk rock era, their "post"-prog made a mockery of it instead. In any case, the wayward sons of the late 70's are carrying on, and if it is no better than what they were doing 45 years ago, it is no worse, I guess.
***13. Blue Oyster Cult, The Symbol Remains
A band that burst out with one of the greatest debut albums ever, then went to a place where not many wanted to follow them, then roared back with the ultimate radio hit, "(Don't Fear) the Reaper", and a couple more decent if not entirely consistent albums. Then long gaps between records, most recently 19 years. Was it worth the wait?
Damn straight it was. To use the vernacular, this album kicks ass. The songwriting is terrific (they've added some new talent in that department), the lyrics are as interesting as ever, and Buck Dharma contributes enough brilliant guitar work to recover from a two-decade dry spell. It's hard to imagine anyone not seeing the virtue in this album unless you just don't like hard rock.
There's nothing much more to say, except - yes, there's plenty of cowbell.
*14. Wire, Mind Hive
One of the few authentic 70's punk bands that's still going, they actually released two albums in 2020, though the other (10:20) consists of extended play versions of earlier songs. Wire's first album, Pink Flag, came out in 1977, and had that core punk sound. But not long after that they were already demonstrating an aversion to being constrained by rules (of which punk, ironically, has more than a few). And so it goes with their 18 or so studio albums so far: they lack nothing in punk credibility but they can sound like anything from Pink Floyd to a horror film soundtrack when they so please.
It would take more listening than I've got time for to say how this ranks among even their recent releases (they put out an album every year from 2011-2017, most of them containing new material). But my ears tell me this is a very good one.
**15. Tower of Power, Step Up
Like many other albums in the list, this wasn't actually recorded in the midst of a worldwide health crisis, but in "the 2010's", which perhaps explains the ironically upbeat mood. While a few key people have remained with the band through most of their career, they are a bit like the Volkswagen that had most of its 600 parts replaced but continues to be identified as the same car. Be that as it may, this is a terrific recording, and I don't really care if the musicians who made it are calling themselves "Tower of Power" or "Fred's Soul Station" or whatever. It's 1970's soul, funk and fusion, with no concessions to either disco or hip hop. It ain't "neo"-anything; it's the real thing, and a fine job of it.
I was not the biggest follower of Tower of Power in the 70's (nor of Earth Wind and Fire, who always seemed like their alter-ego) though I certainly heard enough of them. But if you were into soul at all then, count yourself lucky that such a fine soul recording could be made in the last ten years. I don't expect there will be a lot more of these.
The 1980's: Second Wave
16. Midnight Oil, The Makaratta Project
Their origin is pretty early in the 70's but the albums that made them famous were all released in the 1980's. They split up for quite a while as founding member Peter Garrett pursued direct political engagement, serving for some time in the Australian Senate and then as Minister for the Environment, Heritage and the Arts. So they are pretty serious about their political goals, and that's fine. But is this album what they reunited for?
I'm all for politically informed rock and roll, and I'm fine with crossover projects, but this just doesn't seem to have a personality. After a couple of more or less standard Oil tunes we get a few world music-oriented collaborations in an effort to bring the cause of the Australian Aborigines to us, ending with a 6-minute cut that is a political speech followed by a brief, perfunctory tune. The whole thing amounts to less than a half hour of music - and went to #1 on the Australian albums chart in November!
But #1 or not, I seriously think the cause would be better served by an album that grabs your musical attention like Diesel and Dust (1987) which was a similarly motivated offering. I don't think they've lost the touch - at least, Capricornia (2002) their last studio album before this set, was a pretty fine effort. Great music inspires great thoughts which inspire great movements, whether it's the spirituals that accompanied the Civil Rights movement or "All we are saying is give peace a chance" or "Sun City". I'm happy for the Oils and the Aborigines that the album got some attention, but unlike their previous albums I can't really see this having much impact overseas.
***17. The Pretenders, Hate for Sale
Finally, a new album from Chrissie Hynde and company that rivals their best early work. It's been a while, I have to admit, since I was even willing to listen to an entire Pretenders album, as the singles, which should have been among the best songs, were distinctly unimpressive. That slump has ended with this dynamite set.
In spite of the overwrought title (reference, I suppose, to the obvious hate-monger of the past four years) the songs here are all eminently listenable, mostly solid hard rock but not without a few shapely ballads as well. I was initially a bit resistant to the final cut, "Crying in Public"; it seems to be an effort at a sentimental country tune along early Dolly Parton lines, but it grew on me a bit after a couple of listenings. Most of the others needed only one time through to establish themselves as top-flight Pretenders material.
One sign of a wayward artist is that as soon as they try to vary from their core sound they lose the thread of musicality. Not here - there's plenty of variety in style, and it all hangs together. Hynde's voice always had a bit of a warbly quality, so if age has added a few warbles they barely show. A big sigh of relief for an early Pretenders fan who wondered if they learned to crawl and then kind of gave up on walking. They're back with this sprint.
***18. Psychedelic Furs, Made of Rain
These guys also wore out their welcome a while back, specifically with Book of Days (1989), an album I couldn't get into no matter how hard I tried. A sort of reunion concert some 10 years ago which featured uninspired performances of some brilliant old material, and seemed like it was over before it began, didn't help. Can they make a musically convincing comeback album decades after their heyday and minus key personnel?
Short answer, Yes! But, honestly, this is more than that; in fact, it threatens to claw itself to the top of the Furry album-ratings heap - at least, if you are willing to reconsider the extremely catchy but also quite commercial Mirror Moves, which for me has taken the default position up there for many a decade. It is at least as good as their last (1991) album, World Outside, better than Book of Days, competes with Midnight to Midnight without the stigma of being a concession to commercial demands, and has much of the grit of Talk Talk Talk. "Wrong Train" may be one of the Furs' most powerful songs ever. And three decades seem to have had little effect on Richard Butler's voice.
I don't want to overdo it with the accolades; the latter part of the album may drag a little, and I'm sure other critics can find bones to pick on. But it's a true entry in the PF canon, and can also compete in the era of groups like Animal Collective and Tame Impala without sounding too much like a throwback. If albums were still physical objects I would tell you to just run out and buy it. In fact, despite propaganda to the contrary, you actually can grab the CD for under $12, or a vinyl copy for about twice that.
The 1990's: Keep 'Em Separated
**18. Alanis Morissette, Such Pretty Forks in the Road
I must have been looking the other way when Morissette became a keyboard artist. After two plaintive fingerstyle guitar tunes - a milder deviation from expectations - 8 of the next 9 songs are not-quite-solo keyboard offerings, with some unmistakable echoes of Tori Amos, if not Kate Bush, as well as a more folksy approach that ties the few guitar songs together with the mostly acoustic piano sound. I don't know what got into her - was it the more meditative spirit that goes with having to shack up with one's reflection and CD collection? Whatever it is, she has made the transition without a hiccup - these are some very fine tunes, and a welcome addition to the canon of this kind of music.
Morissette has not been one of those artists who churns out music so rapidly that you quickly lose track of her. Aside from three new versions of Jagged Little Pill (1995), which were desparately needed to supplement the acoustic version released in 2015, and a live album, she has not released a new collection since Havoc and Bright Lights (2012). That was more of what we came to expect from her from her debut at least through So-Called Chaos (2004). So this is another artistic departure, one that presumably speaks to the collective trauma we're going through. But even though she has occasionally shown a certain amount of versatility before (check out "Till You" on Havoc) I was ready to hear something entirely new from an artist whose work I always respected, but who seemed to have only one trick up her sleeve.
Now we can't say that anymore; and this trick is expertly performed. Not only does her songwriting adapt well to the change in style, but she is only a spry 46 (keep in mind that when she blew the roof off with the release of JLP she had reached drinking age just 12 days earlier) and her voice shows no sign of going south any time soon. So, in short, here's another winner from the now-classic rock crowd.
*19. Green Day, Father of All Motherfuckers
In case I haven't mentioned it often enough yet, it was a year for musical transformations, and this album threatens from the outset to become another one. Not until the third song does the band actually start sounding like Green Day. So what do they sound like before that, Beethoven? Britney Spears? No - they sound like the White Stripes. I don't mean they vaguely resemble Jack & co.; they sound like they are trying to imitate the White Stripes in those first two cuts, and doing a pretty good job of it.
But the next cut is "Oh Yeah", a controversial alternative radio hit that samples a song by serial child sex abuser Gary Glitter. It's more like the patented Billie Joe Armstrong sound. The rest of the album is a mix of more typical Green Day territory and some fairly basic rock. I'm not sure I hear the "history of rock" or "garage rock" that Billy Joe Armstrong has been quoted as attributing to the album, but the last song, "Graffitia", is clearly based on "I Fought the Law" - a song they have covered. All in all it amounts to a decent if not exceptional Green Day outing, with a somewhat closer relationship to rock's roots in the blues - or, if you please, "garage rock" - than any effort since ¡DOS! (2012).
The "back to basics" mentality may explain why Billie Joe Armstrong released an entire album of cover tunes in 2020, No Fun Mondays. The other musicians on it all have some association with Green Day, though not official members. One thing you can do to get on my good side is do a decent rendition of practically any Tommy James and the Shondells song. They open this album with a cover of the one that happens to be my current ringtone, "I Think We're Alone Now". The rest of the album rocks too, with somewhat more obscure material.
**20. Pearl Jam, Gigaton
You never know exactly what to expect from Pearl Jam, except that they'll sound like Pearl Jam whatever they are doing. That ability to always sound new while remaining true to a vision is just what makes them one of the most interesting and important American bands of all time. Gigaton is more of that "same but different", experimental but grounded, loud but listenable (is this starting to sound like a line from Alanis Morissette?) style that they have incubated in eleven studio albums so far, with a remarkable consistency of personnel.
What I find interesting in this album, and pleasantly so, is that their songwriting, and Vedder's vocals, take a more melodic turn, going places that sound like the work of more traditional bands in the context of an overall harmonic and sonic picture that is unmistakably Pearl Jam. The melodies reach for more embellishments and follow more predictable patterns than their most challenging work, without losing their identity as uncompromising grundge. I agree with most reviewers that this is one of their better efforts.
21. Stone Temple Pilots, Perdida
"Is this Pearl Jam or STP we're listening to?" You won't be asking that question with their latest offerings. For fear of being accused of pigeonholing artists, let me state for the record that I do not feel a band has to keep doing the same exact thing all the time. Rubber Soul / Revolver. Clouds / The Hissing of Summer Lawns. Atom Heart Mother / Dark Side of the Moon. Who's complaining? Not me. But - STP's neo-sixties acoustic set? DeLeo does The Seekers? I'm not kidding. The only thing is, if you're going to try that kind of turnaround, it had better have some energy. Especially if you are STP. And it doesn't.
That's not to say it doesn't have some beauty. But the moments that grab me tend to do so because I'm trying to figure out just which sixties band they sound like the most. Here it's The Association, there the Hollies. Probably not the most accurate references, but you get the idea. These are great sounds that have been endlessly imitated by sixties revival bands, some of whom are pretty good at breathing life into their latter-day versions of psychedelic folk-rock. I'm afraid I didn't find much of that here - a passing moment or two, a chorus or break here and there, but for the most part, dare I ask, Where's the beef?
Of course there is the missing link of Scott Weiland, whose contributions included not only his vocals and stage antics but a good deal of the songwriting on some STP albums. I'm not sure that explains it, though, as he dropped out of the songwriting credits on the hard rocking Stone Temple Pilots (the first one). Dean DeLeo said he wanted a singer (Jeff Gutt) who would "carve out a different path", but the DeLeos are still co-writing all the music. So this is their baby too. Are they too old to rock and roll? Hope not.
22. Smashing Pumpkins, Cyr
I have a lot of catching up to do on Smashing Pumpkins albums. You see, I didn't like Gish much and found nothing in Siamese Dream, so I kind of wrote the band off, not to mention being turned off by Billy Corgan's professed libertarian views. It was only many years later that I discovered Pisces Iscariot, and flipped out - "they did this?" Since then the band went through many changes, but everyone knows it's Corgan's little fiefdom so that doesn't matter much.
Now, in the midst of the pandemic, comes Cyr. What's a "cyr"? No idear. But as to the songs, be forewarned: this is pop-pop-popmusic, consciously and relentlessly. Corgan says he wanted to make a "contemporary" album, but that is at most a matter of its chronology. It is 20 pop songs of varying quality. Pisces Iscariot it ain't, nor Oceania. Like I said, I have to catch up on the others.
Don't get me wrong, it's listenable enough, but not really my cup of tea. If I'm going to devote my time to Corgan and his Ayn-Randish philosophy (fortunately, though, his lyrics are typically not quite up to the level of "philosophy" of any sort) what I like to hear is his readiness to do whatever strikes his imagination, occasionally landing on a catchy riff or chord progression, not a conscious attempt to be "contemporary", or rather, commercial. Hopefully, he proved he could do it, it's over, now he'll get back to business.
23. The Strokes, The New Abnormal
Quoth my seven year old daughter: "Daddy, what kind of music is this?" "It's rock music, honey." "Well it's very soft rock music then." No, Casablancas and company are not looking to bring the house down, just put a few basic melodies out there, with their patented single-string guitar playing. (Or maybe Sleater-Kinney patented it; I don't want to get in the middle of a catfight.) One or two songs might stick in your ear, particularly the opener, "The Adults Are Talking"; most of the rest just sort of ease by taking up time. Decent enough effort for a lockdown, but nothing that will get you out of your chair.
+24. The Flaming Lips, American Head
Less anxiety and tension is what we all need after a year like this, so a little relaxing music might be just the thing. Well, here come the Flaming Lips to answer our prayers with an album of soporific spacerock. Or wasn't that what the doctor ordered? I don't know. There is at least one particularly fetching song, "Flowers of Neptune 6"; other than that, it's pretty much a sonic soup of lush synth sounds and Wayne Coyne's silky vocals. If that's your thing then you'll appreciate it like any other Lips album, but be aware there is nothing on here to rock the stadium like "Race for the Prize".
25. My Morning Jacket, The Waterfall II
You remember them, right? Seems so long ago when groups like MMJ, Oasis, Spoon, Jimmy Eat World, Kings of Leon and Muse dominated the "alternative radio" airwaves - if you were lucky enough to have alternative radio airwaves in your area, which those in New York City at many points were not. Well, if Dylan and McCartney are still making albums, you bet the Jackets and some of your other 90's favorites are too.
Their "Waterfall" sessions have been released in two stages, the second coming during the pandemic. It's all good, if you like eclectic - the songs on II range from more or less 70's folk and country territory to hard rock, reminiscent of an early Eagles album. It didn't make me want to get up and dance around the maypole, but it was pleasant enough to listen to.
2000's: Millenium Pandemonium
*26. Taylor Swift, folklore
and evermore
Did Taylor Swift suddenly become a songwriter? I mean, a mature one, in some
sense of the word? I'm still not sure I believe it. I was never a fan of the
comfortable, superficial songwriting on Fearless or Red, and reputation
did nothing for me either. But here come two complete albums in one screwed-up
year, and I'm no longer ready to mutter the usual thing about her being an
annoying pop machine who just churns out indistinguishable songs with formulaic
hooks. In fact, whether or not she will ever replace Joni Mitchell on my CD
shelf, I find myself having to admit that I not only do not mind her latest
work, I actually like it.
folklore - The first time I heard it I thought she must have dusted off her Suzanne Vega and Lucinda Williams CD's and set out to write songs with that in her head. But the more I listen to it the more it sounds like Taylor Swift, only... different. Does this set mark a transition from formulaic pop to something else? The least you can say is that it's not trying to reel us in with glitzy production qualities or easy hooks. But is it really contemporary folk music, as the title seems to suggest, or just her trying? ("this is me trying" is the winsome 9th cut on the album.) It's like she decided to compete in Brandi Carlisle's space instead of Carrie Underwood's. She still can't sing like either of them, but her vocals have always been adequate to the music she writes. Jury's out on whether this is just pleasant and intriguing or an outstanding contemporary folk-rock recording, but the good news is that the jury will be happy to listen again to find out.
evermore - Again, I'm hearing female folksinger-songwriter
influences all over the place - everyone from Shawn Colvin to GIllian Welch and
a lot inbetween (Dar Williams, Lucy Kaplansky, Indigo Girls, Beth Orton,
Mary Chapin Carpenter, etc.). But, I mean, is this what's really going on, or
am I dreaming? What's more - and I can hardly believe I'm saying this - even
the lyrics suddenly have something resembling depth. This is not mainly one of
her catalogues of boyfriend miseries and love interests, but frankly, even when
it is, as in "long story short", there is a new level of facility
with words, thoughts, metaphors and images that I never expected to hear from
her. She's clearly getting poetic - what's with the all-lower-case album and
song titles if not the emergence of her inner e.e. cummings? Or the two (?)
lyrical references to Frost's "The Road Not Taken"? Apparently she
has taken some kind of new road, and now has to be taken a lot more seriously
than before.
27. Lady Gaga, Chromatica
You already know the hits from this release, unless you've been a hermit. I mean, especially if you've been a hermit, hunkered down like the rest of us with your Spotify account or YouTube or Alexa, and occasionally your car radio. In spite of her reputation for musical shape-shifting, this album is not going to shock anyone; it's a solid but not very innovative set of largely techno-pop songs. Gaga fans will be pleased. Note: it does not include her famous standard, "The Star-Spangled Banner".
*28. Grimes, Miss Anthropocene
The title is clever, the album is attractive enough if your thing is relentless techno with industrial overtones. It does sound a bit like a soundtrack to some Philip K. Dick novel. I guess hanging out with Elon Musk breeds the illusion that everything techno and futuristic is good, or at least that it will continue to make you the girlfriend of the richest and possibly most overvalued man in the world.
In any case, I'm not going to inflate the value of this album like Tesla's stock, though I don't need to denigrate it either. It's apparently a concept album about climate change, though as I sit here in front of my pretty decent computer speakers I can barely make out a single word behind the relentless echoes and percussive effects. Musically, it ranges from electronic experimentation to synth-pop of the ArtAngels variety. Nothing here is going to force you out of your chair like Doja Cat's "Say So", but as electronic beats go it's not without interest. It also reaches for sounds that could qualify as world-music inspired, inbetween siren-voiced space(X)-pop.
The album is certainly neither boring nor trashy, but it's a relentless
onslaught of electronics, occasionally melded with vocals that lean toward
contemporary pop but rarely devolve into anything much like pop songs. Notable,
though, is the cut "We Appreciate Power", co-written with HANA and
Chris Greatti, which has more hook appeal than most of the others without losing
the industrial touch (not far from the sound Rihanna was exploring on Anti).
*29. Yves Tumor, Heaven to a Tortured Mind
His previous album, Safe in the Hands of Love, was interesting
enough, but this is on another level, not to say planet. He has been compared
with James Ferraro, an artist I need to check out more, and others. But what I
hear is more familiar - call it "Prince on way too much acid". (You
can't just say "Prince on acid" - that sounds too much like
"Prince".) Or maybe TV on the Radio. There is nothing that sounds
derivative, though - it's a bit too wild for that. I do get the feeling that he
is more comfortable innovating with tones than with words, but I haven't sat
down and read through the lyrics. In any case, this is the way I like it - just
inside that line that separates daring but listenable sound from too-far-gone
experimentation.
**30. Thundercat, It Is What It Is
Yep, and what it is is a pretty great piece of unclassifiable stuff that hovers around jazzrock but goes anywhere it wants. Start with Curtis Mayfield's Curtis, add a touch of Spyro Gyra, then patch in anything from latter-day R&B and hiphop to your favorite contemporary jazz vocalist, and you have something that resembles this album. For all that, it tends to hang together. I suspect it would require many more listenings to take its full measure, and doing so would be a far from unpleasant way to spend time these days.
In case you don't know the artist, he is Stephen Lee Bruner, and he has been the bass player for West Coast punk band Suicidal Tendencies and appeared with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Most importantly, he had a major impact on Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp a Butterfly, certainly one of the most important rap albums of the last 20 years. So this is a guy to watch, especially if he keeps making albums as good as this one.
*31. Destroyer, Have We Met
I have not read anything by other critics to confirm my impression that Dan Bejar, who has been recording music under the band name Destroyer since 1996, sounds like a David Bowie clone; that his accent (though he's Canadian, his father was Spanish and his mother American) is Bowie's accent, his voice is similar to Bowie's, his articulation is Bowie's, his lyrics and much of his music could have been outtakes from a Bowie album, and his production is often Bowiesque too. I mean, from the first song on his first commercial release in 1998 to now. I love Bowie, so if he's is any good at it and the least bit original I have to at least like Destroyer. And he is often very good at it, and if the echoes are clear, there is also plenty that is his own.
Take "Crimson Tide", the first song on Have We Met: if it isn't channeling Low then I must be having aural hallucinations. But it's a great song; so channel away. Sometimes he sounds a bit prissy, a bit like a latter-day prog rocker who thinks you have to sound elfin, dazed or twee to do prog. But that is only when his lyrics aren't really working and the recitative is belabored. Often they're working, if not necessarily comprehensible. I haven't yet heard the Destroyer album that is compelling all the way through, but this one is compelling often enough to deserve a good listen.
32. Tame Impala, The Slow Rush
One of the characteristics of artrock since the 90's has been the dominace of the male songwriterer-composer-performer, the one figure without whom the band would either cease to exist or be unrecognizable: Thom Yorke, Trent Reznor, Julian Casablancas, Chris Martin, Jeff Tweedy... Dan Bejar. The list goes on. Since 2010 Kevin Parker has been adding himself to that roster under the band name "Tame Impala". The music has tended to be in the psychedelic-revival genre, and Parker has done much to not only make that critically acceptable but smooth the differences between rearview-mirror rock and the contemporary sound.
This album, his first in five years, goes beyond smoothing, though: it seems to be an outright capitulation to contemporary synth-pop, like what you would expect Hall and Oates to be doing after listening to Arcade Fire, or some such thing. There are other directions one can go and still be contemporary, but this honestly sounds like it is intended to break down the door at the local disco. The beats are particularly dance-worthy, there is nothing resembling a guitar solo, the harmonic palate is that of some current Z100 pop tunes. I'll take Doja Cat for this type of music. Let's hope that once the lulling effect of looking at your four walls every day is a thing of the past Parker comes out of his stupor and gets back to making serious music.
*33. Rumer, Nashville Tears
You don't know the British country singer Rumer, I imagine, but here's why you need to listen to this album: it is entirely comprised of songs by a songwriter you don't know. That songwriter is Hugh Prestwood, and he is one of the finest songwriters around. His songs have been covered by artists like Judy Collins, Jimmy Buffet, Alison Krauss, Crystal Gayle and plenty of other people you have heard of, to say nothing of the long list of those you probably haven't, like Rumer. Not surprising that, according to his Wikipedia page, he taught a course in songwriting at the New School for 20 years. Bill Staines, Stan Rogers, Merle Haggard, John Prine - these are names that come to mind in looking for comparisons.
This is a gorgeous album, and should make Rumer more of a household name. (Many years ago a certain British country singer did a Nashville album with a song about a preacher's son and got pretty big here, so why not Rumer?) But all that said, the reason you must listen to it comes down to one song, "Bristlecone Pine". Once you've heard Rumer's beautiful version of it you can go to YouTube and see or hear performances by Michael Johnson, who developed an achingly gorgeous fingerstyle guitar part, or Jim Salestrom, who meticulously reproduces it (and then some) with a flatpick; or to the album where I first heard this masterpiece, The Wilderness Way by Alaska's Hobo Jim (another brilliant songwriter, somewhat better known in Nashville under the name Jim Varsos), with Johnson on guitar. This may be a lot about one song, but once you hear it you will understand, and it will stick to your soul like glue. Indeed, you may end up thinking, as I and others have done, "this is the song I want played at my funeral". Of course, none of us will hear the songs played at our funerals, if any (songs, that is) - but it will be easier to pass on knowing that this one will be in the air.
As for the rest of Nashville Tears, it is a fine project brought off with grace and beauty. It's a great thing to have so many of Prestwood's fine tunes collected under one roof, and they make a great vehicle for Rumer's lovely voice.
*34. King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, K.G.
One way of motivating yourself is to give your band the most ridiculous name possible and attempt to do enough musically that people ignore or even embrace it. This Australian combo has managed that with flying colors, having released 16 studio albums in 10 years as well as numerous live albums, EP's, videos, and more. They also recently made Rolling Stone's list of "50 Greatest Australian Bands" at #47. Their following down under is apparently fanatical.
None of that would make this a good recording; that achievement is rather a feature of their endless quest for innovation and refusal to be bound by conventions, plus extraordinary technical ability and, fundamentally, creative songwriting by Stu Mackenzie. Although they are mainly a progressive rock band, this album is not primarily an expression of that, but ranges over experiments in microtonality, acoustic music and their own, idiosyncratic form of rock. Zappa and Captain Beefheart come to mind, if only for their unconventionality, as does Umphrey's McGee among more recent groups. But the nonconformity is not for its own sake, but to enable their musical experiments; and comparisons are bound to be misleading, because nothing sounds quite like these guys. My one suggestion to them: could we maybe shorten the name to "Izzy"?
35. HAIM, Women in Music, Pt. III
I wouldn't know where to look for Pt. I or II; certainly not in their commercial album releases. The band gets enough attention, signing with Jay-Z's management team, headlining festivals and recording a single with Taylor Swift. They also regularly get compared to Fleetwood Mac, or The Bangles. I'm not sure any of this is very helpful, though. For me, they basically sound like the Indigo Girls with a slightly heavier beat, though it is reported that they can rock out in concert.
This album, like their previous ones, tends towards unimpeachably pleasant tunes with tight harmonies. Nothing to offend anyone, except possibly me, because I don't usually gravitate to such inoffensive music. One thing I have to add, though: they had the guts to do a song called "Hallelujah" that is not the Leonard Cohen cover. And it is a pretty good song, not one that obviously suffers by the inevitable comparison. That is perhaps an incentive to give the album a listen.
36. Angel Olsen, Whole New Mess
I'm not going to win any friends by running down the lengthy list of contemporary female solo singer-songwriters who I don't like, but if it's any help I'll mention that there is also a fairly long list of their male counterparts who I don't like either. Angel Olsen has gotten a lot of attention for her just-me-and-my-electric-guitar efforts - albums characterized by not especially notable guitar strumming and vocals filtered through a cavernous reverb. At one point she seemed to be bending towards a more commercial sound, but now she's back to basics. It's clear that this sort of stripped-down sound appeals to some people. For me, I picture myself in a very large, empty room with someone wailing away at the other end, and if I am in the mood for this it really doesn't matter whethere there are songs behind the echoes or not; and if I'm not, then it is more than a bit annoying. Suit yourself, but I usually want more than this from an album.
**37. Norah Jones, Pick Me Up Off the Floor
What exactly is Norah Jones - a jazz singer? blues musician? R&B artist? pop star? I guess the question could be asked of many others as well: what manner of songwriter is Fiona Apple? what was Amy Winehouse? I'm good with saying it's all jazz-tinged pop with a bluesy feel that occasionally becomes traditional R&B. Hey, I have a certain facility with categories... or, a talent for defining them in an impossibly detailed way.
This album, whatever its melange of styles, has a very appealing simplicity, not much more than piano and voice - if you could eat it they'd put a "minimally processed" label on it. Why is it that this doesn't bother me, while long-reverb vocals with solo electric guitar does? A matter of taste, I guess; or the fact that these are just more interesting songs, for all their understated melancholy.
There is variety here, but it's all within a range. Sometimes the ghost of Laura Nyro seems to hover over it; sometimes it's more Sade. Either way, with its plaintive musings about loneliness and the like it has a way of getting to you. I never thought of myself as a Norah Jones fan, but this set makes me want to check out some of the earlier efforts that I've ignored.
**38. Rufus Wainwright, Unfollow the Rules
"Songwriter" doesn't seem
to carry the right weight for Rufus Wainwright, except perhaps in the sense
that Stephen Sondheim is a songwriter. "Composer" is clearly what he thinks he is,
for his work ranges from heavily arranged folk and rock to opera. (And yes, he covered Leonard
Cohen's "Hallelujah" - famously, in fact, in the Shreksoundtrack.) I have not always been a fan of his wailing glissandos, his frequent melodramatic octave leaps, or his unrelentingly romantic lyrics. What I do admire is his drive to do more than write pop songs and his willingness to go out on a limb to be creative.
This strikes me as one of the best
entries in the Wainwright canon. Like some of his other albums it hovers around high-end Broadway but
never settles down to any strict classification. I appreciate the unexpected
melodic turn, the creative harmonies and orchestration, the variety of piano textures.Most of all, in several of the songs, like "Trouble in Paradise", "Damsel in Distress" and "Peaceful Afternoon", he seems to be at the top of his game in setting lyrics to music.
*39. Fontaines D.C., A Hero's Death
Get it? The title, I mean. The reference is surely to Richard Strauss's Ein Heldenleben, "A Hero's Life", which itself contains numerous references to the composer's own musical life, making it clear who the hero it. Now, you can follow this line to the band's intentions, or not, as you wish.
As I started listening to this highly touted Irish group my first thought was of the Velvet Undeground - and how many groups have tried to imitate that sound? Then I started to hear a bit of Bowie, some Buffalo Springfield, a snippet of the guitar lead from Status Quo's "Pictures of Matchstick Men", then maybe the Beatles in some demonic mood like "She's So Heavy", but all the while Joy Division was flitting in and out, though so was The National. After all those connections, probably few of which the band ever had in mind, I read their Wikipedia bio, and it makes a big deal of their having "bonded over their love of poetry", actually writing and publishing some collections of their own work. Whereupon I asked myself: how did I not think of The Fugs? But in fact, they sound almost nothing like The Fugs, even if they remind me of everyone else under the sun.
Well, enough with the influences, if that's what they are. This is quite an interesting album, though it takes a bit of tolerance for choruses that consist of one line repeated over and over. Don't spin this disk to be uplifted; it's about as optimistic as one of those psychosocial critiques by their countrymen, the Gang of Four. In spite of all that, the music starts to grab you after a few cuts, forcing you to acknowledge that it is something you should be hearing, whether it makes you feel better or not.
*40. Nada Surf, Never Not Together
So you love Wilco, and maybe The Jayhawks too? In that case you have no right not to love Nada Surf; in fact, it would be illegal. At their origins they perhaps sounded a bit like Jeff Tweedy jamming with Green Day, but then morphed into a pretty solid alt-country band. That's the spot they continue to stake out on this album, and little more needs to be said if you know that musical territory. They are a band that may never have released a bad song, and more than enough particularly good ones. This album is about on the same level.
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Updates, 5/27/2022
Title of King Gizzard album K.G. corrected.
Added a star to Pearl Jam's Gigaton.
Spotify playlist created with all 2-star and 3-star albums.
