Year in Review 2019: Music

Best Albums I Missed in 2018

• Big Red Machine — Big Red Machine

I mean, obviously I like this album (less obvious is how I missed it but whatever). It would be pretty much impossible for me not to. But I think perhaps what’s most interesting is where this project falls short. Not being as familiar with Aaron Dessner’s music / production, I hear this album less as a collaboration and more as an amalgamation. There are elements of the sample-based, Kanye-influenced style that infused 22, A Million, but also elements of earlier Bon Iver sounds, not to mention side projects like Volcano Choir. Of all his side projects, this certainly comes the closest to capturing the magic of Bon Iver without just being a pale imitation, and I think in the end it might hold up better than those previous excursions. But while this is an engaging remix of previous ideas, it doesn’t really feel new.

• Future Me Hates Me — The Beths

I don’t really understand how anyone could not like The Beths. I mean, even on paper a Kiwi* indie band specializing in jangly, guitar-driven pop-rock with 3-part backing harmonies, a quirky sense of humor, and just a dash of angst sounds positively delightful. And it is.

• The Horizon Just Laughed — Damien Jurado

Every 2 years for the last 20 years or so Damien Jurado has semi-secretly been putting out one album after another of some of the best songwriting of his generation. Following his trilogy of psychedelic-folk-meets-spaghetti-western concept albums about a fictional religious cult (yup, that’s a real thing I just described), he’s gone back to a more familiar sound, but the results are no less compelling. Over the years Jurado’s voice has matured into an instrument that evokes a sense of weariness and wisdom that demands your attention—and I promise he deserves it.

• Premonitions — Miya Folick

It’s been 4 years since Miya Folick released the tantalizingly subdued Strange Darling EP, and it has clearly been a period of growth. Where previously she seemed to hide behind reverb-laden vocals and fuzzy production, here she is front and center. This newly confident Folick shows a stylistic and vocal range only hinted at previously, and it makes for an exciting full-length debut. This is the sound of an artist whose just hitting their stride, and my guess is we won’t have to wait nearly as long for the next album.

Honorably Missed

• Ann EP — The Front Bottoms

• Oxnard — Anderson .Paak

Best New Artists

• Allen Tate

• Asura

• Bob Boilen

• Civilized Creature

• Emily Wells

• half·alive

• Jonnie Common

• Little Glass Men

• Meg Mac

• Meg Myers

• Palehound

• Tiny Ruins

• The Twilight Sad

• William Tyler

Best Albums of 2019

• Above/Below EP — Shakey Graves

In case you don’t have it marked on your calendars yet, February 9th is Shakey Graves Day, the day every year when Alejandro Rose-Garcia puts up all of his music for pay-what-you-want, including 2 new exclusive EPs that are only available on the day. Those EPs don’t usually make my list because, if I’m being honest, they usually only have a couple good songs on them (though it’s worth digging into them to find those songs, believe me). But this year’s Above/Below made the cut, perhaps unfairly bolstered by not one but two alternate versions of “Kids These Days,” from last year’s Can’t Wake Up. Other highlights include “Missing You,” a charming little retro tune [EDIT: Turns out it’s a cover, so that makes sense], and the fun, guitar-driven rocker “Leave a Light On For Me,” which really could’ve been on the album.

• Atlanta Millionaires Club — Faye Webster

At first blush this music seems like singer-songwriter via country twang, albeit with an unusually good horn section. One could safely draw comparisons to Andy Shauf’s 2016 album, The Party—they even have similar voices—were it not for Webster’s beguiling incorporation of 90s/2000s-style soul, funk, and hip-hop. It’s a neat sonic surprise, moreso because it only starts to show up about halfway through the album.

• Beneath the Reservoir — Gordi

As I said last year, the real highlight of Reservoir is Gordi’s voice, and that’s what shines through on these stripped-back arrangements of some of the songs from that album. These aren’t just remixed either; these are all-new recordings that often show new sides of the songs, especially “Heaven I Know” and “I’m Done,” which are practically unrecognizable here without the multi-tracked vocals and electronic flourishes.

• Fever Breaks — Josh Ritter

With a more contemporary sound that can likely be at least partly credited to producer Jason Isbell, Fever Breaks feels like Ritter stretching out before getting back in the game. Along with some refreshingly rockier tunes (“Old Black Magic,” “Losing Battles”), he also delivers (arguably) his best narrative song since 2010 (“Silverblade”) and a timely allegorical reminder that “security” in and of itself is not always the safest option (“Torch Committee”).

• Grim Town — SOAK

I was trying to put my finger on what this album reminded of when I got to “Déjà Vu” and realized: it’s ABBA. I mean, specifically on that song, but in general SOAK pulls off a 70’s pop vibe here, though with a darker tint that keeps it from getting cheesy. Then again, maybe it’s that brightness that keeps the darkness at bay—after all, the album does end with us leaving Grim Town, presumably for greener pastures.

• Heard It In a Past Life — Maggie Rogers

The core of Rogers’ breakout single, “Alaska,” was how she brought vocal richness and emotional depth to the world of gauzy, danceable pop music (or a better way of saying that that’s less condescending). Heard It In a Past Life continues that tradition, and it makes for a solidly enjoyable album. What’s missing, though, is the sonic inventiveness of “Alaska,” and if Past Life suffers from a weak 2nd half it’s largely due to the music just not sounding different enough to stay interesting. There’s enough here to keep the album from being forgettable, but it’s still disappointingly safe, and hopefully future releases will see Rogers stretching herself a bit more.

• I Love You. It’s A Fever Dream. — The Tallest Man on Earth

I get why some people don’t like TTMOE. I do. But that banjo riff is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard, and as long he keeps putting out stuff like that I don’t care if half his songs sound the same and his lyrics make no sense.

• i,i — Bon Iver

Bon Iver naturally attracts a certain amount of pseudo-scholarly theme-chasing, the most common of which is to associate each album with a season (starting with winter). Personally, I think that’s kind of surface-level, so here’s my two cents: Bon Iver albums can be categorized by how they portray the relationship of the self to place and people, vacillating between isolation and connection. For Emma, Forever Ago, famously, sets the self in the desolate Wisconsin winter, alone and in pain. Bon Iver[, Bon Iver] sees the self taking joy in the company of friends and the rich landscapes they journey through. On 22, A Million, the self is fragmented and doubtful, lost inside a mental maze of symbols rather than physical space, filtering itself through other people’s voices in the form of chopped up, barely recognizable samples. And that brings us to i,i. Here, the fragmented identity is replaced with a self extended through collaboration with others (the rhizome instead of the root, for any Edouard Glissant fans out there), and concerned for the first time not just with the places it knows but with the world at large.

So, that’s the armchair analysis bit. As for the music? I like it. I wasn’t blown away immediately like I was with Bon Iver and 22, A Million, but after living with it for a while it’s really grown on me, especially the opening track and “Salem.” It’s still sitting at fourth in the rankings of Bon Iver albums (or maybe third, with 22 and Bon Iver tied for first), but in such esteemed company, even fourth is pretty good.

• In The Shape of a Storm — Damien Jurado

Damien Jurado gave us a little treat this year by releasing a new album a whole year ahead of schedule. Although it breaks his pattern, it does continue his streak—In The Shape of a Storm is composed entirely of short, beautifully understated acoustic tracks, and there’s not a single dud in the bunch. Also, I’ve been waiting 8 years for “Newspaper Gown” to be on an album, ever since I first discovered Jurado through his Tiny Desk Concert, so this is a pretty special treat for me.

• My Finest Work Yet — Andrew Bird

“History forgets the moderates,” sings Bird on the opening track, “Sisyphus,” and he’s definitely not pulling his punches here, though he may be reigning in some of his more abstract tendencies. With as deep a discography as Bird’s the argument as to whether this is, in fact, his finest work yet is kind of pointless, but it is the only one of his albums where I’ve liked every song.

• New Songs For Old Problems — Middle Kids

A tight 6-song set that feels very much like an extension of last year’s Lost Friends, so I’ll let that review stand in here.

• Pity Boy — Mal Blum

Mal Blum makes guitar-driven rock songs with catchy melodies, clever lyrics, and a whole lotta heart. Call it singer-songwriter-punk—or don’t, whatever, it’s good is the point. Also, I try not to swear on here and I tend to avoid including songs with swear words if possible, but this song is just too good. I mean, that stall at 2:15? Genius. Pure genius.

• Practice Magic and Seek Professional Help When Necessary — Tōth

Breakup albums are (I assume) emotionally fraught projects at the best of times. One imagines it’s even harder, though, when the person you’ve just broken up with is also the person you’ve been making music with for over a decade. Alex Toth, co-founder of the band Rubblebucket along with Annakalmia Traver, is a raw nerve on this album, going through all the range of emotions one might expect. To be honest it can be uncomfortable at times, but what saves it is the music and vocals, which throughout the album provide a warm, steadying presence to soften the jagged edges of the lyrics.

• Satis Factory — Mattiel

While everyone else is repackaging the 80’s, Mattiel’s going another 30 years back for her sound, putting a fresh spin on slapback echo and chunky, reverb-laden guitars. It’s like discovering a long-lost Sun Studio artist, only she’s a better songwriter than Jerry Lee Lewis and doesn’t have to record everything in mono.

• Sucker Punch — Sigrid

Rogers’s problem on Heard It In a Past Life isn’t consistency so much as lack of variety. Sucker Punch certainly does not lack in variety. Musically, it’s a densely-packed album, with influences from a number of different genres and time periods, from the disco-meets-808s sound of “Don’t Feel Like Crying,” to the 50’s-crooner-turned-uptempo-pop-ballad “Level Up,” to “Business Dinners,” which could almost be a Superorganism track. Sigrid has exceptional range vocally as well: though her mid-range is solid, her real strength lies in her powerful, raspy belt and her sweet, vibrato-filled falsetto. Even better is when she juxtaposes these two extremes, probably best exemplified by the chorus of “Don’t Kill My Vibe.”

Lyrically, these songs are generally what you’d expect, though with occasional charming eccentricities that help make them feel more personal (including what I’m pretty sure is a David Foster Wallace reference in “Fake Friends”)—and also some clunky phrases and a very casual relationship with the word “f**k” (likely due to English being the Norwegian artist’s second language) that can temporarily derail an otherwise good song. But in the end it kind of comes back to the same problem as Heard It In a Past Life—where the lack of consistency really comes from, I think, is the most consistent element of the album. Almost every one of these songs uses the standard verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus-chorus structure, and while it works fine for some of them, for others it’s more of a hindrance than a help. The bridge of the title track is just a revoiced version of the chorus which makes the song really start to drag by the end, and the bridge of “In Vain” kind of completely destroys the emotional tone the song built up in the first half by veering wildly in the opposite direction. And you know what? Some songs could use a third verse.

In the end, listening to these songs is kind of frustrating, because there’s so much talent here, but so many little things that get in the way. Still, the potential is undeniable, and hopefully Sigrid will continue to grow as an artist and work out some of those kinks.

• There Will Be No Intermission — Amanda Palmer

On There Will Be No Intermission, Palmer confronts the Big Issues, from anxiety to global warming, from abortion to motherhood, from struggling to celebrate life to coming to terms with death. It’s a heavy album, her most mature project to date, and probably her best songwriting as well. Palmer has always had a confessional aspect to her writing, but it tends to be hidden under the artifice of the music and her persona. Here that artifice is largely stripped away, but Palmer’s natural confidence remains. She’s not quiet and scared but fiercely vulnerable, brave in the face of everything but not trying to hide her weaknesses. The album cover features Palmer standing naked, holding a sword aloft, and that pretty much sums it up.

Honorable Mentions

• Assume Form — James Blake

• Better Oblivion Community Center — Better Oblivion Community Center

• The Big Day — Chance the Rapper

• House of Sugar — (Sandy) Alex G

• Late Riser — Frances Cone

• Let’s Try the After — Broken Social Scene

• Lux Prima — Karen O & Danger Mouse

• Manic Candid Episode — The Murlocs

• Norman Fucking Rockwell! — Lana Del Rey

• Pianoworks — Eluvium

• Remind Me Tomorrow — Sharon Van Etten

• Spirit — Rhye

• Tiny Changes: A Celebration of Frightened Rabbit’s The Midnight Organ Fight — Various Artists

• U.F.O.F. — Big Thief

• Ventura — Anderson .Paak

• Wasteland, Baby! — Hozier

Best Holdovers From 2018

• Dance Music — Mastersystem

• Lost Friends — Middle Kids

• Offerings — Typhoon

* A previous version of this review referred to The Beths as an Australian band, because at this point I just assume all good music is from Australia.