Year in Review 2022: Music

Best Miscellaneous

• “Little Sable Point Lighthouse” by Advance Base (2022)

This might seem a little redundant given that there are two Owen Ashworth-related releases in the album section of the list, but what can I say, I really like this song. Ashworth (aka Advance Base, fka Casiotone For the Painfully Alone) just has a winning formula: simple drum-machine-and-keys arrangements and his rough but compelling voice delivering a pathos-laden narrative. Gets me, if not every time, at least most times.

• “You Don’t Think You Like People Like Me” by Alex Lahey (2017)

• “Love Hurts” by Amy Lee & Dave Stewart (2022)

I don’t know which is more surprising, that this exists at all or the that it’s actually pretty good.

• “February” by Beach Bunny (2017)

Apparently Beach Bunny had a bit of a moment last year with the release of their second album, but I only heard about them because I’m making a playlist with one song for each month and I didn’t have any good options for February, so I went looking for some. And I’m glad I did, because not only did I find Beach Bunny (who I’ll certainly be listening to more of) but I also found mewithoutYou, who you’ll find the Best Albums section.

• “Baby Count Ten (The Counting Song)” by The Bell Sisters (1956)

I have solidly mixed feelings about Undone Season 2—actually, I don’t know if that’s true, I think I have mostly positive feelings about all of it except the ending, especially if that turns out to be the end of the show. But anyway, this was a fun little ditty they played at the end of one the episodes. I think my favorite bit is the sketch in the middle that I honestly do not understand at all.

• “Alone at the Party” by Ben Levin Group (2021)

It’s like Alessia Cara’s “Here” but written by an actual person and not a committee. But also that person is very weird.

• “Tinker creek.” by Coin locker kid (2016)

Like a Donald Barthelme story as a radio drama performed by text-to-speech software.

• “Trust (feat. Isabella Manfredi)” by Flume (2016)

• “The Chase” by Future Islands (2015)

• “February Brings the Rain” by Julie London (1956)

Another find from my search for songs about February. A beautiful, sad little tune.

• “Hugs for Ralsie (Empty Town)” by Lena Raine (2018)

• “The Day the Politicians Died” by The Magnetic Fields (2020)

Honestly wasn’t super sold on this album, but how can you not enjoy this song? (“Castle Down a Dirt Road” and “When the Brat Upstairs Got a Drum Kit” are also good.)

• “Going to Malibu” by The Mountain Goats (1993)

I like the way he says “damnable lie.”

• “How to Embrace a Swamp Creature” by The Mountain Goats (2008)

See, I’m trying to make up for the fact that I only liked a handful of songs on each TMG album I listened to this year. Which isn’t generally good enough to be able justify including them in Best Albums.

• “1 John 4:16” by The Mountain Goats (2009)

But the songs I liked I did really like.

• “Alpha Double Negative: Going to Catalina” by The Mountain Goats (1992)

Hey did you catch John Darnielle in Poker Face? That was fun.

• “Nothing Else Matters” by Phoebe Bridgers (2021)

Almost a perfect cover, love the piano, but I miss the catharsis of that final “Trust I seek, and I find in you / Everyday for us something new” (i.e. the way that line is delivered in the original), and the backing vocal teasing it just makes me miss it that much more.

• “Ready or Not (feat. Sierra Ferrell)” by Shakey Graves (2022)

• “Up to My Neck In You” by Sister Ray (2022)

It’s not very often you get to say, “Wow, what a gorgeous AC/DC cover!”

• “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany (1987)

There are better versions of “I Think We’re Alone Now.” Most of them, actually.

Musically, the arrangement is kind of all over the place, with anachronistic harpsichord and organ, plus some tinkly synth that doesn’t really fit with anything else, all buried under the very 80’s drum machine and chugging, staccato guitar. It’s fine if you’re not paying attention to it, but kind of wonky as soon as you start actually listening.

Vocally, Tiffany’s “rock” affectation, not unlike Wayne Rogers’s Harpo Marx impression, is incredibly unconvincing and shallow (particularly on “into the night!“), and also highlights how nasally her voice is, and just makes the whole thing kind of unpleasant after a while. I don’t wanna be too hard on her, she was just a teenager, but…it’s not great.

However, out of all the artists who’ve performed this song, none of them, not a single one, can beat Tiffany for sheer emotive weight in that first line. Youthful exuberance and rebellion somehow juxtaposed with melancholy and nostalgia—it’s every coming-of-age movie in 3 seconds.

Also, I like the synth solo.

• “color” by yama (2022)

One of the few animes my roommate has successfully convinced me to watch is Spy x Family, and besides being a delightfully fun and surprising sitcom about a spy, an assassin, a mind-reading child, and a dog that can see the future and says “borf,” it’s also got consistently great opening and closing themes. I’m not gonna have a J-pop phase or anything, but if I find myself not skipping the credits after a dozen or so episodes (they switched music halfway through the season, a thing that apparently happens), then it must be good. Lots of little sonic goodies sprinkled throughout, and I really enjoy her almost rap-like cadence.

• “Tiny Dancer” by Yard Act (2022)

We’ll be talking about Yard Act later in the album section, so for now just enjoy this surprisingly good Elton John cover.

Best Albums

• Wall of Tears and Other Songs I Didn’t Write by Advance Base (2021)

Proving that Ashworth’s formula works just as well when he’s doing other people’s songs, and giving me my new favorite version of “Love at the Five & Dime.”

• Live Forever by Bartees Strange (2021)

• Cerulean by Baths (2010)

• Beyond My Dreams Dying by Ben Levin (2022)

I’ve been trying to figure out how to describe Ben Levin and I finally realized the best point of reference: Frank Zappa. Ben Levin is a modern day Frank Zappa. That’s my take.

• Expert in a Dying Field by The Beths (2022)

Though it’s become more visible (err, audible) in some of the slower arrangements on their later albums, there’s always been a tension underneath the surface of The Beths’ upbeat pop-rock. The excitement and trepidation of new love on Future Me Hates Me, the longing and frustration of long-distance connection on Jump Rope Gazers—and now with Expert in a Dying Field forming the end to the trilogy, the struggle of wanting to preserve a relationship that you’ve put so much work into, but learning to accept that it’s run its course.

This tension runs throughout the album, summed up most succinctly in the title track, whose chorus starts out questioning but ends resigned:

“How does it feel
To be an expert in a dying field
And how do you know
It’s over when you can’t let go
You can’t let go, you can’t stop, can’t rewind
Love is learned over time
‘Til you’re an expert in a dying field”

Heart-wrenching as that last line is (echoes of Jack Gilbert’s “Island and Figs”: “The heart never fits the journey. Always one ends first.”), as with most of The Beths’ songs the blow is softened a bit by the musical package, its typically infectious rhythm and catchy melody pretty much demanding that you tap, nod, dance, and/or sing along. And that’s mostly the experience of the whole album, a heartbreak-masked-by-vibes formula that’s proven itself time and again (think “Suicide is Painless” from M*A*S*H, “Annie Waits” by Ben Folds, “Magnolia” by Gang of Youths, “Hard Times” by Paramore (or “Fake Happy”, though that’s a little on the nose), etc.)

But then you get to the album closer, “2am.” Lyrically, the song is embodying that same tension, pining for the good times they had in the moment when it’s all ending. Musically, what starts out as a seemingly reserved arrangement builds into a dramatic reenactment of the dissolution the song is documenting, as the guitar in the left channel and the drums in the right become more and more decoupled from each other, spiraling off into increasingly intense solos until the drums are barely keeping a beat amidst a whirlwind of crashes while the guitar is practically screaming. After the weary cheer of the rest of the album, it’s an expertly-timed gut punch of vulnerability, and one that proves The Beths have the range and maturity to keep making brilliant albums for, hopefully, many years to come.

• Forgiveness Rock Record by Broken Social Scene (2010)

• You Forgot It In People by Broken Social Scene (2002)

Basically if you want a big indie rock sound but you’re not that into Arcade Fire, try Broken Social Scene. (I’m sure it’s a coincidence that they’re both Canadian.)

• Things Take Time, Take Time by Courtney Barnett (2021)

Somehow I keep forgetting that we’re still getting pandemic albums. Though acknowledging the pain of isolation, Barnett seems more focused on having patience with the slowed down pace of life (thus the title, and the generally laid-back feel of the album) and finding joy (or at least contentment) in the little things.

• The Monster Who Hated Pennsylvania by Damien Jurado (2021)

Probably Jurado’s most lyrically opaque album to date, but still enjoyable to listen to, and includes the most dramatic song about a character from WKRP in Cincinnati you’ll ever hear.

• Reggae Film Star by Damien Jurado (2022)

• Car Therapy Sessions by Faye Webster (2022)

Where other artists opted for more stripped-down arrangements and bedroom studio production, Webster apparently didn’t get the memo and made a collection of fully-orchestrated versions of songs off her previous two albums. While the logistics must have been a nightmare you can’t argue with the results: beautiful, lush arrangements that bring out all the drama and longing of these songs that, to be honest, were a little hidden by the more laconic production of their original versions.

Not to imply that this comes out of nowhere. You can hear strings weaving in and out of several songs on 2021’s I Know I’m Funny haha, and “A Stranger” plays with this same aesthetic, though it doesn’t lean all the way into it. So in some ways this feels like a natural progression of Webster’s sound, despite lacking pretty much any of her usual hallmarks, aside from her distinctive voice.

Which voice itself seems changed, though. Just as “A Stranger” feels almost like a French impressionist film at times (namely during the spoken-word sections), there’s a filmic quality to the arrangements here that recontextualizes Webster’s voice, making her sound less like a modern singer-songwriter and more like an Old Hollywood movie star. As with the emotionality of the songs, it was always there—she’s just provided a soundtrack that lets you hear it better.

• Faye Webster by Faye Webster (2017)

Though admittedly overshadowed by her later work, Webster’s first album is still worth checking out, if only for “Say It Now,” which someone needs to do a mashup of with “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac because it would be amazing.

• In Sickness & In Flames by The Front Bottoms (2020)

Holy crap, they did it. 2017’s Going Grey sounded so much like a band giving up that I really didn’t think The Front Bottoms had another great album in them. And, well, maybe they don’t? I mean, Talon of the Hawk (or Back on Top if you prefer) is a pretty high bar to clear, especially on a 5th album from a band who even a diehard fan has to admit has a number of songs that…kind of sound the same? Great songs, but still.

I know this seems like a pretty lackluster way to start an ostensibly positive review, but what I’m trying to say is at this point I don’t know that trying to recapture their former glory is a winning formula—and fortunately that’s not what they did here. There’s no drastic genre shift or anything, this is still very identifiably a Front Bottoms album, but they have squarely placed themselves in a new era.

The Front Bottoms has always been a band for The Youths™, and on Going Grey one could hear them trying (and in many ways failing) to figure what kind of band they would become as they entered their 30s. On In Sickness it seems they’ve finally found the answer to that question. Their writing feels more mature and reflective, not trying to pull off the type of youthful angst that would feel inappropriate now, but still retains some of the energy of their earlier work.

My biggest problem with Going Grey was that they seemingly just didn’t have much to say—literally, with most songs having 1 to 2 verses and a chorus that tended to get old after the 4th time. Here they’ve rediscovered their verbosity, with songs having longer verses and more of them—”leaf pile,” one of the best songs on the album, doesn’t even have a chorus. Even just comparing the runtimes shows a clear difference, with Grey cramming 11 tracks into 38 minutes (their shortest full-length album to date) while In Sickness spreads 12 tracks across a luxurious 53 minutes (their longest).

Not to say that what makes this album good is strictly quantifiable. A lot of it comes down to the fact that it’s just a great-sounding album; they try a lot of different things with the production but manage to maintain a consistency throughout that sounds cohesive rather than repetitive. And then there’s the context, the sheer relief at hearing something new from them that feels fresh and vital. For me it’s been 4 years since listening to the Ann EP, and I honestly got teary-eyed as I was listening and realized just how much I missed them (it’s anyone’s guess as to how this album was out for over a year before I knew about it).

All of which is to say, great album or no, this is a very good album, and an unexpected joy to listen to.

• Theresa by The Front Bottoms (2022)

Obviously not as revelatory as In Sickness & In Flames, but a solid EP that keeps their momentum going.

• The Far Field by Future Islands (2017)

• goodnight, moon by fuvk (2022)

• Magnificent Bird by Gabriel Kahane (2022)

As with Book of Travelers from 2018, Magnificent Bird finds Kahane taking stock of the current moment, this time as much through his own stories as those of the people around him. Political upheaval, a move across the country, death, wildfires, internet discourse, and of course a global pandemic all clamor at the edges of these songs, but there’s a quiet center: the company of family, light on a tree, the first winter rain, and the warmth and richness of Kahane’s voice and his piano inviting you in.

• Girl Scout Make Out by Girl Scout Make Out (2017)

• Inhuman by Gordi (2022)

• Approximosey by Holland Patent Public Library (2013)

• B-Sides by Julien Baker (2022)

• Hounds of Love by Kate Bush (1985)

I like to think that I’ve grown out of the pointless hipsterism of my youth—yet I feel compelled to make it clear that I did not listen to this album because of Stranger Things; it was already on my list, and besides I haven’t even watched Season 4 yet.

And yes, “Running Up That Hill” is a very good song, but the rest of the album has a lot to offer, and the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. And I say that as someone who still maintains I don’t particularly like 80’s music (despite mounting evidence to the contrary).

• Rising Tide by Kim Tillman (2012)

• Gifted by Koffee (2022)

One Hanukkah when I was a kid, my mom got me Matisyahu’s Live at Stubb’s, presumably in an attempt to make religion “cool.” It didn’t work, but I did get into Matisyahu for a few years, until he dropped the Hasid gimmick and became just another white dude making increasingly boring pop songs. Nowadays I occasionally listen to his old stuff for the nostalgia factor and not much else.

Anyway, at no point did it occur to me that just because I’d grown out of Matisyahu didn’t mean there wasn’t other reggae music I might like. Until last April when I was playing Heardle and I was like, “I have no idea what song this is but I like it,” and the song was “Toast” by Koffee. And it turned out I liked several other songs by her, too.

Also apparently Heardle is owned by Spotify now because of course it is.

• ESCISM by Lena Raine (2018)

• Sea Sew by Lisa Hannigan (2008)

• Ain’t It Nice by Mal Blum (2022)

• Cope by Manchester Orchestra (2014)

So, uh, this one was a bit of a shocker. Mainly what I knew Manchester Orchestra from was “Architect,” a beautiful, contemplative acoustic song they did with Frightened Rabbit.

“Top Notch,” the opening track off Cope, is not a beautiful, contemplative acoustic song. But let me tell you, it’s an effective way to wake up at 7 am when you think you’re going to be listening to a beautiful, contemplative acoustic song.

Cope goes way harder than I expected, is the point, in some ways harder than I tend to enjoy, but it never loses its musicality—the guitars might scream and groan, but they’re screaming and groaning melodically, and if it gets a bit noisy Andy Hull’s soaring vocals are always cutting through with an emotive signal.

Well, sort of. My one quibble with this album is that the mix is a little muddy at times, and I think part of the problem is that Hull’s vocals and the guitars are often occupying almost identical frequency ranges. Or take the opening of “All I Really Wanted,” where the center of the stereo field is just kind of a mush of rhythm guitar and crash cymbals. It doesn’t ruin the album by any means, but there are times where it feels like I’m listening to the radio in a 1997 Chevy station wagon, and I just wish the mix were a little crisper and better differentiated.

• Georgia Gothic by Mattiel (2022)

• Brontosaurus by ME REX (2017)

• Triceratops / Stegosaurus by ME REX (2020)

• Wooly Rhino by ME REX (2017)

Angsty, verbose, pop-inflected indie rock—basically, what if The Front Bottoms were British, so of course I’m into it.

• Ten Stories by mewithoutYou (2012)

A circus train crashes and the animals escape. The album consists largely of a series of vignettes, as we see what each animal does with their newfound (and, it’s implied, probably brief) freedom. Most, it turns out, are pretty philisophical about the whole thing. A surprisingly compelling, melancholic story whose lyrical complexity rewards careful listening.

• 2007 by Miya Folick (2022)

• No One’s First, And You’re Next by Modest Mouse (2017)

• Suicide Songs by MONEY (2017)

I think what sets MONEY apart from other shoegazey, music-to-be-sad-to bands (which, it should be obvious, I have no problem with) is how ecstatic lead singer Jamie Lee is in his sorrow. While not outright screaming, there is a rawness to his delivery that adds some emotional weight, but more than that there is, paradoxically, a joyfulness to it. This is music to feel good about being sad to, if that makes sense. A celebration of sadness.

• græ: Part 1 by Moses Sumney (2020)

• BRAT by NNAMDÏ (2020)

• FECKIN WEIRDO: Nnamdi’s spectral adventures through a pubulous conundrum, canceling out the burrowing burden and ambiguity of his pre-zuberant tooth shine. by NNAMDÏ (2014)

NNAMDÏ is a musical magpie, making what I guess could best be described as experimental hip-hop that borrows from jazz, indie rock, electronica, etc. I think these two albums are actually fairly representative of his range, from the relatively laid-back vibes of BRAT to the chaotic intensity of FECKIN WEIRDO (though his weirdest album I’ve listened to is still Bootie Noir).

• Better in the Shade by Patrick Watson (2022)

• Wave by Patrick Watson (2019)

Watson has a seemingly unerring ability to make albums that are so immersive that you just get lost in them. [NB: You can buy this album on Bandcamp, but for some reason it isn’t embeddable, thus the YouTube.]

• Tied to the Moon by Rachel Sermanni (2015)

• I Owe You Nothing by Record Setter (2020)

Record Setter puts the emo in screamo.

(I’ve been waiting to use that line for 5 months, so we’re just going to sit here and enjoy it for a second.)

(Right, moving on.)

I firmly believe that I can find at least one thing to like in any genre of music, but my attitude toward screamo, as with, if I’m being honest, most subgenres of metal, tends to be, at best, a detached, intellectual appreciation. Like, I understand that there is skill being displayed, and that’s impressive. But I’ve never been able to connect with it on an emotional level, not even something as shallow as “hey, this is cool.”

Record Setter, on the other hand, gave me goosebumps with pretty much every song on this album. Now, it should be noted that unless you’ve got very discerning ears you’re probably going to need to have the lyrics in front of you to actually get the full effect, but even without them I think anyone will get the poetry of someone screaming, “I’m not emotive enough / Is this enough?”

And but so that’s really the key to it all, is that once you dig into the lyrics it becomes very clear that the screaming is not some edgy affectation or even merely an aesthetic choice, but is actually central to the meaning of these songs. Once you understand that, you can see how beautiful this album really is.

And yeah, it helps that the instrumentation is more Midwest emo / indie rock, rather than the heavy metal sound more usually associated with screamed vocals, which, ok, might mean that technically this isn’t screamo…but I really wanted to use that line.

• Disco Elysium by Sea Power (2020)

Disco Elysium was the best game I played in 2022 (and it’s not even close), and a huge part of that was the music, which is just incredibly beautiful and emotive and melancholy and full of character and just oh man it’s great. “Instrument of Surrender” is my hands down favorite because it so perfectly encapsulates the ambience of Martinaise, all mournful and proud and kind of falling apart but barely holding on—but the trilogy of “Whirling-in-Rags” themes are tied for a very close second and you should listen to those too.

• Chéparia by Shakey Graves (2022)

Despite an increasingly long wait between full-length releases, there’s almost never been a year since Roll the Bones that didn’t bring us new Shakey Graves tunes, and for that we can all be grateful. Unfortunately, they are often only available during the annual Shakey Graves Day celebrations, so you’ll have to wait to until next February 9th to get your hands on this EP (though it is pay-what-you-want, and that includes all his previous releases—at this point a pretty huge catalog of great music). However, you can hear these songs in the skate vid above because of course.

• If I never know you like this again by SOAK (2022)

[NB: Available for purchase on Bandcamp.]

• Flood by Stella Donnelly (2022)

• First Impressions of Earth by The Strokes (2006)

I remember a long time ago, I think in high school, encountering multiple people talking about how Is This It by The Strokes was like this amazing album that was the last explosion of guitar rock that had never been topped since, and somehow in all the effusive praise I got confused and thought that it was the only Strokes album, and I listened to it and wasn’t really sold on it so I just wrote the Strokes off and moved on with my life.

Then my coworker mentioned she was trying to learn “You Only Live Once” on guitar, and I got curious so I looked it up, and you’ll understand when I say I was shocked to learn that A) there are in fact other Strokes albums, and B) I actually like them. The undeniably catchy riffs and melodies are compellingly juxtaposed with Julian Casablancas’s raspy, constantly cracking voice (and then, within that, the juxtaposition of his rocker high-end with the almost crooner-like sonority of his lower range). Just a great rock record. Probably going to have to give Is This It another chance now.

• World Wide Pop by Superorganism (2022)

Just a delightful TNT-grade blast of maximalist pop music about being depressed during a global pandemic.

• Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters by The Twilight Sad (2007)

• You Were Alone: An Owen Ashworth Almanac by Various Artists (2022)

That’s right, I’ve got Owen Ashworth doing a covers album and I’ve also got a covers album of Owen Ashworth songs. So if you only like his musical style or only like his songwriting, I’ve got you covered.

• The Disintegration Loops III by William Basinski (2014)

• The Disintegration Loops IV by William Basinski (2014)

• Welcome To The Night Sky by Wintersleep (2007)

• Dark Days by Yard Act (2021)

• The Overload by Yard Act (2022)

Yard Act is a breath of fresh air. Lyrically dense post-punk with a wit dryer than Hawkeye Pierce’s martini—it’s tempting to make this entire review just a dozen excerpts from the lyrics, but I’ll settle for two.

The first is the opening to “Rich”: “Almost by accident I have become rich / Through continued award for skilled labor in the private sector / And a genuine lack of interest in expensive things.” Just *chefkisshandmotion* perfecto. Satire so sharp you can’t even see it if you look at it head on.

And then, from “Land of the Blind”: “And make no mistake, we are living out our last days in the land of the blind / Where the one-eyed man was king until he lost his fucking mind.” Pure poetry. (Also, the “I’m gonna make me and this 50-pence piece disappear” bit.)

And yet for all their sardonic bite, there’s no sense here of the kind of toxic ironic detachment or self-centered nihilism it’s so easy to fall into once you become disillusioned with the way you were told the world worked. There’s sincerity under all that cynicism, buoying it up and occasionally poking through.

Take, for example, their seemingly heartfelt cover of “Tiny Dancer,” or the ending of “Tall Poppies” in which the light-hearted absurdity slowly gives way to a dark earnestness. Most obviously, there’s album closer (and single featuring Elton John, naturally) “100% Endurance”, which lays out their philosophy pretty clearly: “It’s all so pointless / It is, and I find that humbling, sincerely / And when you’re gone / It brings me peace of mind to know that this will all just carry on with someone else / with something new / there’s no need to be blue / …It’s hippy bullshit but it’s true.”