Unlike those words that I have heard from so many people over the years: "they don't make music like they used to," I find the opposite is true. Yes, technically music making has evolved over the years. Increased access to equipment, recording, and ways to find an audience has changed drastically. The spirit hasn't though. There is incredible music being made all around us all of the time. More than ever. It's difficult to keep up! My problem as an older person who has yet to fully adjust to the idea that music doesn't have to be physically possessed is that I get overwhelmed. I am fully aware that I have missed a lot of great music this year, because I get overwhelmed by it. There's too much! I do not make enough time available to hear more music. I cannot afford it. I can't keep up! These selections are ten of many releases I enjoyed this year. I share them only hoping to present my thoughts in a vague way to show appreciation to these great artists and inspire an individual to look into these artists further. There's always been good music and likely always will be. Happy New Year!!
Write ups can be accessed via the band/album names below
My introduction to The Cure was around 40 years ago with
their jaunty single “The Lovecats.” I
absolutely cannot describe how big that song was in helping determine my
musical journey as a teenager. Never had
I heard a song so exuberant. There was
unbelievable feeling inside those three and a half minutes in such a silly
little pop song. There was a distinct
noticeable passion, a sense of free experimentation, and an uncanny tunefulness
that captured my heart. I couldn’t stop
listening to it. This led me to seek out
more and I learned how different they were before that song. That passion was always there no matter if
we’re talking about their earliest spiky garage punk, or their mysterious
sparse post-punk, or the bleak, unrelenting darkness of Pornography, to the synth-pop of that time I first heard them. The Cure paved their own varied path and even
in their lesser moments (in my opinion) have always been intriguing and worth
notice. Their long and storied
discography is varied, exciting and refreshing.
Here we are with a new album, Songs from a Lost World, sixteen years
after 2008’s 4:13 Dream. To be honest, I haven’t been very engaged
with their output since 1992’s Wish
and even that one took me awhile to fully appreciate. I think a big part of it is that I had
changed my tastes away from those early teenage years – not that I didn’t
listen to the hell out of their post Disintegration
releases, because I still felt Robert
Smith’s path and how he has never phoned in a record. He has staunchly continued to be wildly creative,
varied, unceasingly heartfelt, and authentic..
When Songs of a Lost World finally showed up, after years of leaks, and
live performances of some of these new songs, I was excited like I was as a kid
anticipating the release date of Kiss Me
Kiss Me Kiss Me in 1987 as a 16 year old – snagging a random ride to the
nearest town that might have a record store that would offer a copy. On the actual release date of Lost World on November 1st,
before I ventured out to the local record shop, I was surprised at the
immediate social media nitpicking of the record. Everyone’s opinions are welcome and at least
as valid as mine, yet I wonder why so many were so immediately critical. Why listen to it once and complain about the
long intros before Robert Smith’s vocals come in. Have they actually ever listened to The
Cure?! It’s been a staple for years!!
Having said that, my early critique is that the mix is too compressed and in your
face. I think I’d prefer for the sound
to be more dynamic, allowing the brilliant arrangements to rise and fall,
though through endless repeated listens it has started to expand for me and
reveal more subtleties.
Robert Smith had a huge influence on
not just my musical tastes, but also introducing me to an unhealthy fear of
aging. As a 14 year old, I would listen
to The Head on the Door’s timeless
ode to growing old “Sinking” like an old man fearing his oncoming and
inevitable death. The day I turned 22, I
told a 15 year old kid I occasionally worked with that I was “over the hill.” Now, close to 40 years later, this album has
connected in a similar way, as a realistic sense of mortality has crept into my
life. Smith’s lyrics on this album are as
incisive as he’s ever been. There’s a
laser like focus of someone obsessed with finding a way to navigate the fear of
death as decay sets in. This has hit
home for me, in a similar way the Cure first began guiding me through my
formative tears. Every song feels both
tragic, yet redemptive and exciting. So
many of those ancient Cure songs helped a lot of us along with relatable songs,
while offering a lot of amazing tunes and commiseration. Words that can be comforting and help us not
feel so alone.
“Alone,” the first song and single is
a sad lament about the finality of death.
It is so heartbreakingly relatable, yet woven inside a catchy meditative
tune that repeats the line “where did it go” refrain with a genuine worry. The orchestrations of the aging love ballad
“Nothing Lasts Forever” makes me think of a senior prom slow dance only aimed
at a roomful of people who no longer feel safe going out after dark. Meanwhile, “A Fragile Thing” sounds a lot
like one of those great album tracks that may not attract attention initially
but eventually becomes the favorite over time that the Cure are so adept at
creating.
“War Song” comes on incredibly heavy
the way “The Kiss” did with Smith’s distinctive wailing unsettled guitar easily
describing the conflict long before the bitter lyrics hit. “Drone: No Drone” is an in your face grinder
that flows with a groovy classic Simon
Gallup bassline and a great Smith vocal chorus that lands somewhere between
“Hot Hot Hot!!!” and “Burn.”
Overall, Songs of a Lost World, reminds me of Disintegration (1989). Back
then, many of us thought that that album was going to be the Cure’s final
album, but this feels like the perfect follow up. “I Can Never Say Goodbye” hints at “Prayers
for Rain,” while referencing the orchestration and the less resigned side of
“And Nothing is Forever.” The
penultimate song “All I Ever Am” begins with a warbled keyboard hook before
pounding into an urgent refection of past mistakes and regrets. Would anything have mattered? The closing “Endsong” is an epic in every
way, but the long opening builds and builds much the way “Closedown” did in
1989, as it leads into a truly sad lament about losing everything. All the work we do in life. All of the goals, the dreams, the successes,
all lead to “Nothing” in the end. Perhaps
it’s just me, but in “Endsong,”Smith sounds less hurt than the opening “Alone.”
It’s as if he has guided us toward more acceptance along the way through these
eight numbers. It’s an incredibly
intense song that pulls no punches. It
may sound strange, but such a direct sad song is inspiring to me. The sadness is truly felt, in the way that
The Cure have always delivered the gamut of emotions in such a genuine
way. The directness and harsh reality of
the words, help in addressing my own feelings regarding death, amongst many
other realities.
Welcome back to The Cure! This album is excellent in so many ways.
Songs of a Lost World is exactly the balm I needed in these strange,
uncertain, and confusing times. As I
continue to read various complaints about this album, I can’t help but wonder
if a fairly new band put out an album of this quality, how many would be
drooling over it as the landmark great release of our time? Personally, I hope that this is an album I
will hungrily listen to for a long time to come. Leave it to the Cure who initially inspired a
passion in me for seeking out truly honest music that confronts a lot of those
emotions many of us fear to come along and chisel away the hardened coating that
has grown around my heart through a lot of experience.
This is the debut album from The Blue Herons, but it doesn’t seem
like it. The songs on Go On have all appeared as digital singles
over the past few years. The project
originally started out as a vehicle for master instrumentalist, Andy Jossi, to showcase his love of
jangle guitar pop. Jossi originally
started recording and releasing instrumental songs before reaching out to
various vocalists to help him “complete” them.
I put “complete” in quotes, because Jossi’s wonderfully detailed music
is incredibly dramatic and absolutely great without the addition of vocals. During that weird year of 2020, The Blue
Herons released the single “In the Skies,” with Gretchen DeVault seamlessly adding lyrics and vocals. If you’ve bothered to read these silly music
missives I occasionally write, you may recognize DeVault’s name. These two have
teamed up for ten more fantastic singles since.
I became a supporter of Gretchen’s music going back to when I first
heard the 2004 song “I Wanna Know” by her band The Icicles – an incredibly refreshing pop song that evokes the fun
teenage love songs by 60s girl groups. Subsequently,
DeVault has explored different sounds through other outlets such as the
melancholic dream pop of Voluptuous
Panic, and the pristine indie pop of The
Francine Odysseys, as well as adding her fantastic vocals to the fun Hero No Hero project before settling in
as a full-time collaborator with Andy Jossi and The Blue Herons.
In this new era of digital singles
and artist’s having more direct contact with their followers, first albums like
this are likely to become the norm. In
the past, a ‘best of’ or singles collection might come out after an artist has
reached a certain level of tenure and/or popularity, but this debut album is
already a singles collection and it plays like one. Every single song is incredibly addictive and
beg for excited repeated listens.
Jossi’s other fairly well known project, The Churchhill Garden, with Whimsical vocalist Krissy Vanderwoude, finds him creating incredible extended dreamy
vistas that build and build in intensity and volume like the Kitchens of Distinction used to do with
regularity. The Blue Herons, on the
other hand, have a more straight forward sound that, while still dreamy, has
more in common with the more upbeat songs by the 80s line up of The Church with the added strength of
Gretchen’s spectacular vocal melodies.
I want to highlight particular songs,
but it’s difficult because all of these songs have been favorites as they’ve
been released over the past four years. I
think “Talking to Ghosts,” however, is the cream of an especially bountiful
crop. Jossi channels a Johnny Marr-esque arrangement and the
dynamic orchestral chorus is absolutely stunning, as are DeVault’s vocals. Of course, there is also the more driving and
urgent “Autumn Leaves,” whose life affirming chorus is downright invigorating
and motivational. Surprisingly, The Blue
Herons took on a cover of Joy Division’s
all-timer “Disorder.” At a glance, this
might seem an odd choice, or a mismatch, but I can assure you, as a massive Joy
Division fan, I find this to be the best cover I’ve heard. Gone are the harsh shards of sounds atop the
dark echoing rumbles of the original, but added is a different kind of urgency
and warmth. The approach is different,
yet the end result is similar in that as a listener you’ve been taken on an
epic adventure. Plus I absolutely love
the buzzing close and wish that it didn’t fade out.
Though most of these songs were
released as singles prior to the album, there is added value in checking this
out, because here the songs have been worked on – enhanced, plus there is a
great alternate version of the yearning “Echoes in the Dust.” If you have not checked The Blue Herons out
previously, this is not only the perfect place to start, I would say it’s
mandatory.
Sweden’s
Agent blå blend
a unique brand of post-punk. Their sound reminds me of those early 80s pioneering post-punk
artists in spirit, yet with their own take.It’s
a difficult sound to pin down, but I sure love trying as I’ve been playing
their third LP, Stab!, a ton since
its release back in April – nearly five full years after their second full
length back in 2019. Emelie Alatalo’s versatile and
mysterious vocals are once again rich and endlessly intriguing – landing
somewhere between Isabel Monteiro (Drugstore) and the legendary Siouxsie Sioux and I have been trying
to come up with a way to describe this album in order to find a way to express
my enthusiasm and do it any kind of justice.
From
the brief opening self-titled instrumental that merges into the beautifully
meandering “Ebb and Flow,” one thing is clear the band has been honing their
craft. The rhythm section has retained
their special connection by coming up with tension building push and pull
arrangements that definitely ebb and flow, but now there’s a lot of stellar
piano melodies guiding these songs in a similar way as the early Tears for Fears albums.
Normally
I am allergic to using very specific genre categorizations of bands, because of
artists like this. They are conjuring up
something that feels different to me.
Unique. “The Fascination of
Self-Sabotage” lifts off with soaring guitars like an early 80s UK post-punk
band, while “Mind Mapping” gives off a Goth vibe with its vague lyrics alluding
to some kind of separation and its resulting consequences. Whatever the case, it’s my favorite on an
album that continues to impress and grow on me.
So much to love here. The propulsive drive and whirlee keyboard
sound of “Discount” acts as a straight-forward tune with a very ghostly
atmosphere, while “Whatever You Want” might be their poppiest song to date as
it tries to work out intimate communication details over a buoyant beat.
As
I imagined, I’m failing to do a workable job at conveying the power of this
album. It is all too brief, it’s well
crafted, and dare I say underrated?
These are the kind of songs that have always fed my soul. The kind of songs that guide one through
rainy days that exacerbate troubling times, yet offer understanding. The words are supportive and the music
comforting by way of that understanding.
Instead of continuing to ramble on aimlessly, I will be direct. I highly recommend Stab! Allow it a chance to work its magic.
The black watch
released two albums in short succession this year and both are worth an
investment. The morning papers have given us the vapours was the first and is
the more traditional release – full of their unique smart indie pop that seems
to come from a limitless well. The other
album, weird rooms, is also
excellent, but it’s the morning papers
that has given me the vapors (sorry). John Andrew Fredrick has guided this
band for a long time, and I was lucky enough to join the entertaining ride ever
since I bought one of their early 7” singles simply because it had a picture of
Natalie Wood on the cover back in
1993. All these years later, I still
love the 80s era Church/Cure/Go-Betweens vibe that they produce.
I’m not eloquent enough to explain in
any interesting way why the black watch are so appealing, except to say that
they feel like a longtime friend. From
that first chance listen, I found their songs addictive in the best way. By that I mean, they fit neatly into my
palette sonically, and are always thought-provoking lyrically and most
importantly, I want to hear their songs again and again. Some more than others. The past six years have found them, in my
estimation, on a hot streak. A wider
variety of sounds has crept in, along with more female vocals and string
arrangements, which remind more of their incredible early releases.
Speaking of which, the pre-LP single
(included here) “oh, do shut up,” is sung by Kesha Rose and is a perfect kiss off to any narcissist that might
be making you feel bad about yourself.
It’s one of the best songs of the year and it feels so damn
satisfying. Not to be confused with
their 2021 LP here and there, “there
& here” is another buzzing great!
Actually, there’s not a weak moment here. The matching guitar melody with some
“doo-doo-da-doos” are alluring on the opening “new brooms sweep clean,” “sorry
so far” sounds like a highlight from a Grant
McLennan album, and who can ignore the pop perfection of “more lies from
the government.” “The morning papers”
closes the album with a wonderful frantic strummer that is urgent, bitter and
fun as hell to sneer/sing-a-long with.
I can honestly say that in 1993 I did
not look ahead and ponder what I’d be doing thirty years later, but
unsurprisingly, I still look longingly at pictures of Natalie Wood when I
encounter one, and listen to the black watch.
I’m okay with that.
I have an incredible fondness in
general for rock trios. So many of my
favorite bands over the years have been trios.
There’s an economy and cleanliness in the arrangements that appeals to
me. Personally, I find bandleader Emma Kupa’s best work has been in this
format. It’s not just the wonderfully
straight forward arrangements, which are immaculately captured here. Everything sounds so clean and fresh that it
feels live. It’s not just the music
though, Kupa’s lyrics are so relatable that listening to an entire album feels
like reading an especially deep letter from a treasured lifelong friend.
“It seems I have to learn everything
the hard way” Kupa sings on the incredible crunching opening “Species.” She sings with such a precise honesty that
it’s refreshing and so relatable. It’s a
trick. It’s what I’d love to pull off
with my own writing here, so I am envious and greatly admire it when I come
across it. These songs unveil themselves
as a journey to self-discovery. While
the previous LP mined emotions around an especially unwanted end to a
relationship, Here finds telling
missives about finding satisfaction.
“Flyers” is a direct commentary on being in a little known band. Kupa’s frustration with pouring her heart
out, all while playing shows to no audience, sleeping in vans, and storing
triple XL Tee shirts under her bed (this XXXL monster would like a deal!). I think anyone who has done anything creative
that they try to share with the world can relate. It doesn’t take long to realize that “no one
cares at all.” (“Blue Plaque”). We are
all wrapped up in our own worlds. Stuff
that feels monumental to us when shared isn’t a priority to anyone else out
there. That’s how it can often
feel. It’s not necessarily true, which
is the direction we’re led to as the album wears on. The effort can be worth it. It’s not easy. What is the cliché? The grass isn’t always greener. As humans, we are always in some sort of
transition.
Here finds
solace in living in and appreciating the moment and the things that are
positive in life, and realizing that the difficult parts can be a part of that
too. Kupa sings “fuck success / fuck
expectation” with a well-worn voice of experience and acceptance, as opposed to
a reactionary bitterness.
The thing is that the Mammoth Penguins write fantastic rock
songs. I love turning these songs up
really loud, air guitaring all of the power chords, punctuating verses with
cymbal splashes (air cymbals), and belting out the vocals along with Kupa’s
earnest voice. These tracks are fun and
catchy and, yes, remarkably personable.
For those unaware, J. Robbins was the vocalist/guitarist of two fantastic
punk/post-punk bands from the 90s: Jawbox
and Burning Airlines.I am a huge fan of Jawbox especially.Their 1991 debut album, Grippe, was without a doubt, one of those game-changing albums for
me, because it opened up an entirely new world of US based punk rock for
me.By that point, I was fairly well
versed with the legendary bands, but they were mostly in the past.Jawbox was fresh, new, and energetic.
Apparently, Basilisk is J. Robbins’ second solo album, so I will have to go
back and check that out, but only after I encourage people to check out and
give this album serious consideration. Robbins
did not fall completely off of my music radar, as I have admired his very clean
production work over the past too many years, such as Jets to Brazil’s incredible Orange
Rhyming Dictionary, The Promise Ring’s
Very Emergency, and more recently in
my collection, Thrushes’ Exposing Seas. It’s been over twenty years since I’ve heard
Robbins’ voice, and it may sound goofy, but hearing him sing again froze me in
time. It was incredibly welcome and
amazing how he sounds exactly the same to me.
It’s like running into an old friend after many years and finding out
that you’re both still the goofy dorks you were originally and still get
along. In this case, I’m a fan of his
jaggedly infectious post punk.
If you were a fan of his former
bands, you will surely love this.
Robbins’ songwriting here is tight throughout, as are the performances
with the rhythm section he has assembled (bass: Brooks Harlan drums: Darren
Zentek), and check out the fiery hot guitar lead from legendary Chicago
punk John Haggarty from Naked Raygun and Pegboy on the menacing opening “Automacity.” “Last War” is a thoughtful look into the idea
of not evolving with change, but instead fighting against all of it, and you
know what? It’s also fun to sing along
with. “Exquisite Corpse” is the
highlight of highlights for me. Its
energy and sound remind me most of those great Jawbox songs, and is
relentlessly catchy. Robbins addresses
the continuing damaging pollution issue on the stuttering “Gasoline Rainbow”
mostly via striking imagery, but the verse of “and what good / is the word / of
a God / who won’t return / til everything has burned” should strike a note with
certain climate change deniers. Probably
not. Elsewhere “A Ray of Sunlight”
sounds like it could be fitted neatly into a Bob Mould album, with its tuneful buzz and those drum fills
bridging into the chorus. It makes
perfect sense why Robbins has been invited to open for Mould. There are some interesting electronic
flourishes here and there, but none of it distracts from the mighty focus of
the songwriting throughout.
Learning of this album has been a
fantastic and refreshing surprise. I had
assumed that J. Robbins had given up performance, and yet here he is as vital
as ever.
