Playlist – May 2022

Quicker and maybe a little dirtier this month as I try to use a few vacation days to wrench the schedule back on track. This month is helped by a long drive to test it out with Anne, some good friends, and right now a beach view with coffee and a cigar that all feels about perfect. I hope you’re breathing, drinking water, and doing well. 

https://tidal.com/browse/playlist/be48b8de-65c0-4d66-8a6e-c3402c99f242

• Mary Halvorson, “Amaryllis” – I was enraptured by Mary Halvorson’s compositions and band leader work as much as her approach to guitar the minute I heard her almost 20 years ago and I’m a bigger fan with every year and every release. Her debut – with a bang – for Nonesuch records uses the larger scope enabled by that bigger, storied label, to utmost effect with two simultaneous records, Amaryllis, from which this comes, featuring a new sextet, and Belladonna which augments these players with the Mivos String Quartet. This is a prime example of how she takes some classic Horace Silver-type writing, welding shifting melodies across hard, punchy grooves and letting each player shine – longtime foil Tomas Fujiwara on drums rocking those tricky rhythms with Nick Dunston on bass and Patricia Brennan on vibes, with a fiery but restrained horn section of Jacob Garchik on trombone and Adam O’Farrill (who works with her in Code Girl) on trumpet. Like the African flower with which it shares a name, this song feels like a blossoming, an explosion, that gets more interesting as you zoom into the details – the flurry of sparks from Brennan’s vibraphone underneath a liquid fire trumpet solo from O’Farrill about two minutes in, that descending, soul-soaked Dunston bass line, the way her guitar uncoils to bring it home, drawing all the colors together. I’ll be unpacking and loving – not always the same thing – both records for a long, long time 
• Willie Nelson, “Tower of Song” – Willie Nelson has hit a stride of one great, unforced record after another in this homestretch, and this return to the Leonard Cohen well on one of the great taking-stock songs is a gorgeous, weathered centerpiece of his latest, A Beautiful Time. Nelson understands the sly smile behind lines like “I was born like this, I had no choice, I was born with the gift of a golden voice,” and “You can stick your little pins in that voodoo doll, I’m very sorry, babe, it doesn’t look like me at all,” and that even holy work, even an obsession, can’t be taken too seriously. Sympathetic production from Buddy Cannon and a subtle arrangement highlighting Mickey Raphael’s harmonica, Mike Johnson’s pedal steel, and either Catherine Marx or Jim “Moose” Brown on Wurlitzer like gently dancing ghosts around his voice, help make this one of the definitive versions of this song. “All the bridges are burning that we might have crossed, but I feel so close to everything we’ve lost. We’ll never have to lose it again.” 
• Eli “Paperboy” Reed, “I’m Bringing Home Good News” – One of my favorite voices of this century, Eli “Paperboy” Reed, takes on one of the great song catalogs of the last, Merle Haggard, to predictably thrilling effect on Down Every Road. He attacks this 1969 gem with full-throated gusto, walking the line of triumph and irony that always underpinned the song – check that scream, half a cry into the void and half an orgasmic yelp, toward the end and the forest-fire horns and backing vocals – and gets to use every other mode, the smooth shouter, the empathetic balladeer, across this collection. “To you, I’ve been known as bad news, well, I’m changing my first name, and I’m giving you your freedom, baby. That oughta rate some kind of change.” 
• Florence and the Machine, “Free” – I said about one of the early singles that the new Florence and the Machine songs synthesize everything that makes her voice and her songs so compelling to her wider audience and to people like me who were slower to adopt. Hearing the full record, Dance Fever, shoots a double dose of speed into that opinion. This is probably my favorite record so far this year and it’s everything I want in – for lack of a better word – a pop record, incisive and non-pandering lyrics, melodies that shock me awake and feel inevitable at the same time, and grooves that take me out of myself. This song sums up all of that, from a classic first line of hers, “Sometimes I wonder if I should be medicated,” into the final verse of hard-won, sweat-soaked acceptance and the gang vocals on the declarative “I am free” you can picture a stadium singing along with. “Is this how it is? Is this how it’s always been? To exist in the face of suffering and death and somehow keep on singing.” 

• Heriot, “Profound Mortality” – Maybe a more literal take on the apocalypse, cinematic metal band Heriot blew me away with their new one of which this is the title track. Doomy, sludgy grooves tinged with industrial and the tension between Debbie Gough’s high vocals and griding guitar and Jake Packer’s landmine bass and raspy growls, felt like it had some tonal commonality with their fellow UK artists Florence and the Machine, the heavy and the ecstatic, if you think of that full body head nod as dancing, this is as much a dancefloor monster as anything on this list. Just magic. 
• Mark Lomax Trio, “Eclipse” – The minute I saw the press release for this I got excited, Plays Mingus pairs one of my favorite current composers and drummers, Columbus’s own Dr. Mark Lomax II, with the work of one of his inspirations (and one of the great 20^th century composers), Charles Mingus, in honor of Mingus’s centennial. Similar to Mingus, Lomax has a deep loyalty to his collaborators and his long brotherhood with tenor player Eddie Bayard and bassist Dean Hulett pays off on a jaw-dropping read of this quintessential yearning, shadowy ballad. 
• Kathryn Joseph, “until the truth of you” – Kathryn Joseph’s mesmerizing for you who are wronged, zoomed in tight on her voice, holding every crevice and crack to the light, accompanied by usually only electric piano and leaning into the soft decay of the notes, is the kind of singer-songwriter record that forces me to lean in, like looking at tintype photographs with no wall cards. “Give me your sorrow, give me your blood. Beg, steal, and borrower all I have loved.” 
• Kalia Vandever, “False Memories” – Also opening up with piano, from Paul Cornish, though acoustic and played with a more emphatic touch, this similarly mysterious and wonderful tune from trombonist and composer Kalia Vandever opens up slowly, with a trombone solo from Vandever and harmonies from alto saxophonist Immanuel Wilkins that feels like a sculpture of light you have to walk around to experience at all angles, and a moody, slithering drum part from Connor Parks, accented by Nick Dunston’s bass, full of surprising surges and dips. It’s some of the best writing in that vein between improvisation and chamber music I’ve heard in a long, long time. 
• Romain Pilon, “Bye Ya” – Beautiful guitar-trio take on one of my favorite Monk pieces from French guitarist Pilon with cooking rhythm section of Yoni Zelnik on bass and Jeff Ballard on guitar. 

• B Jazz, “Where You Are” – Brandon “B Jazz” Scott, go-to keyboardist for Columbus intersections of soul-jazz, R&B, and hip-hop innovators, whose work I first fell for through his collaborations with my high school friend Talisha Holmes, put out one of my favorite R&B singles this year that makes me hungry for the full length. His low-key vocals perfectly ride the silky beat and mood-lighting keys. 
• Cliffwalker, “For Some Time” – This Portland duo of Cliff Hayes (bass and keys) and A. Walker Spring (vibes, drums, keys, guitar) paint rolling instrumental landscapes that felt like it bridged the sound world between the B Jazz and the Pillbox Patti, while being thrilling in its own right. Reminds me of what I loved about Tortoise so many years ago but without sounding derivative. 
• Pillbox Patti, “Good People” – Nicolette Hayford co-wrote one oy my favorite country songs in years with Ashley McBryde’s breakout “A Little Dive Bar in Dahlonega” and the first salvo of her work as alter ego Pillbox Patti hit exactly that same sweet spot for me, well-observed looks at people who are struggling and celebrating, sometimes in the same breath, with a moody, keyboard-led arrangement and a jagged, gleaming vocal. “They say the good die young, well, I don’t believe it, because look at us: a little fucked up but we’re still breathing.” 
• Rose Mercie, “Un chateau” – This French quartet made one of my favorite exploratory art-pop records in a long time, ¿Kieres Agua? recalling many traditions I’ve loved over the years, from the Shangri-Las to the Raincoats to the Liminanas, but not sounding too much like any of those things. 
• Leikeli47, “LL Cool J” – The subtlety and furious seduction inherent in Leikeli47’s rapping and the tight, minimal beat make this one of my songs of the summer, everything about this works – walking down the street with heat-distortions and mirages, sipping a cold drink on the patio, or dancing too close at a party. “Say, ‘Ooh boy, who you looking at like that?’ Tell me if you wanna be a girl’s best friend.” 

• The Frightnrs, “Why Does It Feel Like a Curse?” – There’s a sweetness and a definite raw feeling to this Frightnrs sophomore album, a reggae/rocksteady turn for the Daptone catalogue, built around vocals left by the gone-too-soon Dan Klein with sympathetic, potent backing by his bandmates and producer Ticklah. The keening vocal on this closing track and the throbbing bass get me every time. “See you tomorrow.” 
• Kenny Neal, “Blues Keep Chasing Me” – Louisiana keeper of the blues flame Kenny Neal made another beautiful record Straight from The Heart, unafraid to draw on R&B, zydeco, and any other flavors he grew up. Not every record needs to reinvent the wheel, and this is a perfect line drive, exactly what I’m looking for from this style of music, his barbed-wire guitar against the horn section and super-clean drums reminds me of the raunchy ‘70s Johnny “Guitar” Watson period in the best way. 
• Ray Wylie Hubbard featuring Kevin Russell and the Shiny Soul Sisters, “Groove” – Ray Wylie Hubbard’s unclassifiable music gets another great showcase and salute with his second duets record Co-Starring Too and I love most of it, but I keep coming back to this collaboration with Austin swamp-funk players Kevin Russell and the Shiny Soul Sisters from Shinyribs. The burbling bass and swinging B-3 meshes perfectly with Hubbard’s sweetly ragged voice as he pays tribute to the thing that brings most of us back to music. “Lord have mercy, let’s rejoice in the groove.” 
• The Black Keys, “It Ain’t Over” – With the Columbus connections, I saw Black Keys early and often, and there were select tracks I loved but it took their last decade of records to really gel for me. Dropout Boogie opens their sound up in the best way and this song, one of a few written with Greg Cartwright (Reigning Sound, Oblivians) is full of the greasy, percussion and organ heavy grooves and the best use of the vocal effect Dan Auerbach’s been working on for a while that makes this such a great summer backyard record. “Try to ease your worried mind, dreams come true from time to time. It ain’t over.” 
• Ecstatic Vision, “Deathwish 1970” – The grease of those last couple songs gets an extra shot of moonshine and a dose of acid with this barreling, sensuous and pulverizing track from this heavy psych band from Philly. I got turned onto their Elusive Mojo record by former Columbus resident Brian O’Neill’s twitter and it hits the Stooges/Hawkwind shaped hole in my heart with snarling guitars, squalling sax, and an unhinged growl of a vocal. 

• Come to Grief, “When the World Dies” – This New England doom/sludge band, featuring former members of Grief, hits the slightly screamier sweet spot I have akin to Ecstatic Vision, everything on this record feels big, expansive, magical, but also guttural and low to the ground, sensual. 
• Kreator featuring Sofia Portanet, “Midnight Sun” – I’ve been a fan of German thrash band Kreator for so long I’m not sure I remember when I first heard them. The big production on this record cleans up everything just enough and makes it feel even heavier, more three dimensional, that solo about two minutes in sounds like Sami Yli-Sirniö is playing a burning warehouse wall and Sofia Portanet’s sweeter vocal throws the majesty and power of Mille Petrozza’s into relief. 
• “Twisting Spirals in the Murk” by Cosmic Putrefaction – Wrapping up this heavy subsection of the playlist with a new to me band, a mostly solo project of Gabriele Gramaglia, and I know I’m overusing the word, but the entire Crepuscular Dirge for the Blessed Ones is majestic, wide-screen and with crisp, saturated color (also produced by Gramaglia. Also, one of my favorite new (to me) band names. 
• SOAK, “swear jar” – Irish singer-songwriter Bridie Monds-Watson, working under the name SOAK, made a beautiful, layered record of surprising close-ups, If I Never Know You Like This Again, taking the sometimes banal details of day to day life and, in a way that reminds me of playwright Annie Baker, turns the intensity of that workaday detail until it’s surprising again, almost surreal, without changing any of the specifics, and with possibly the most devastating chorus of this month’s selections. “Where have I been all my life, watching myself from the sidelines? Won’t you wake me up sometimes?” 
• Big Joanie, “Happier Still” – Black feminist London punk band Big Joanie never seemed content to fit in one box or another – I first discovered them through a killing Solange cover – and their new song, “Happier Still” is another step outward and upward. Stephanie Phillips’ vocal, moving around the beat, and her slashing, monstrous guitar riff, and the churning rhythm section and harmonies of Chardine Taylor-Stone and Estella Adeyeri blend into three minutes of rock and roll perfection. “There is a lonely that has a time of day, and when the sun sets, it comes out to show his face. But I’ll feel fine.” 
• Zion & Lennox featuring Danny Ocean, “Brisa” – Twenty years on, reggaeton duo Zion & Lennox are still putting out dance classics like this. The title of this collaboration with Venezuelan singer-producer Danny Ocean translates to “Breeze” and it has the sense of lightness, of that hint of cool sluicing through humid heat, accented by steel drums and handclaps. 
• Shabaka, “Memories don’t live like people do”- For Afrikan Culture, London-based reeds player Shabaka takes a step sideways from the roaring, colorful dance parties we know him for from bands like The Comet Is Coming and Sons of Kemet for a series of expansive meditations. The delicate, last leaf of a long summer quality of this tune – with Hutchings playing everything, including mbira and shakuhachi – intoxicates me and the whole album is as powerful a paean to being still as his better-known work is to ecstatic dancing. 
• Walter Smith III and Matthew Stevens, “For Some Time” – Another of the most exciting saxophonists coming up today, Walter Smith III, teams with guitarist Matthew Stevens and a best-in-class rhythm section of Kris Davis, Dave Holland, and Terri Lyne Carrington for a stellar jazz record, In Common III. This Smith original lets that rhythm section shine, with Holland and Carrington doing one of the things they do best, making those tricky rhythm sections and hairpin turns feel natural and even finger-snappable, without watering anything down, along with a gorgeous Smith solo and some marvelous, shocking work from Stevens and Davis. 
• Charli XCX, “Every Rule” – I liked Charli XCX fine but my pal and coworker Mary’s impassioned pitch for this record led me to dig deeper into it, with particular attention to this lovely, mournful ballad, co-written with AG Cook, with the mellow keyboard lines enhancing the vocal and undergirding the circular theme of doing something bad for us and doing it anyway. “These moments really set me free.” 
• Laney Jones, “Long Way” – Nashville singer-songwriter embraces similar textures on Stories Up High, playing with long tones (I suspect steel guitar but could be synths) like spreading shadows, and immersive landscapes limned by dry, echoing drums and the cool water vibrato of her voice. 
• Isaiah Ceccarelli, “Toute clarté m’est obscure V: Aubade” – Composer Ceccarelli wrote this extended suite for the voice of Ellen Wieser and a stellar chamber orchestra. I’ve always loved the Aubade form, a morning love song, though I knew the poetic form well before the musical. The entire piece is worth hearing but this was the movement, subtle and unfolding into the power of a new sun, that I kept returning to. 
• Craig Finn, “The Year We Fell Behind” – As I first ordered this playlist, it felt odd to put the rough voice and wordy, overstuffed intensity of Finn after the clarity of the two sopranos it follows, but the more I tweaked different orders, this felt right. To my ears, and I’ve been listening to him for a long time, Finn gets closer to that clarity both in his writing and his singing, he gets more specific and sharper while also getting closer to a late-Nick Cave empathy. This song also feels like morning to me – it’s a stretch to call it an aubade, but Josh Kaufman’s organ and Joe Russo’s percussion echo a sunrise, as do the vocals of Cassandra Jenkins and Annie Nero, and it’s easier to picture the narrator walking down a street in the rising sun instead of at 3 a.m. “The storm rolled in so slowly, the destruction became boring, the story of the year we fell behind.” 
• The Christian Family, “Who’s Gonna Catch Me” – This Phoenix garage-punk duo bring handclaps, a guitar line like hot knives, and gang vocals to this raucous lament and standout from their aptly titled The Raw and Primitive Sounds of The Christian Family. 
• Eric Ambel, “From a Better Place” – Guitarist-songwriter-producer Eric Ambel is a perpetual figure here – Anne and I were just talking about him in a Raleigh bar the other day – and like so many musicians, recorded solo tracks during the worst days of the pandemic and he collected the best of them into a cohesive record, You Asked for It: The Shut in Singles. This song, cowritten with Dream Syndicate singer Steve Wynn, is a highlight, with Ambel’s conversational growl and instantly identifiable guitar set up in a wave of swinging, off-kilter drums and organ, all played by Ambel. “I know it makes a lovely story, but survivors bore me, it’s like it was all a lie.” 
• GloRilla featuring Hitkidd, “FNF (Let’s Go) – This was my introduction to Memphis rapper GloRilla and it’s a breath of fresh air, with the silky and rough clatter of Hitkidd’s production setting up a classic post-breakup tribute to freedom and an instant contender for song of the summer. 
• Karol G, “Provenza” – Speaking of songs for the summer, this lead-off single from Colombian superstar Karol G’s upcoming record implanted itself in my brain the minute I heard it and hasn’t let me be since. The subtle clatter of percussion and sing-song melody make it impossible for me to not have a smile on my face by the end of the song. 
• Mr. Fingers, “Like the Dawn” – Speaking of songs I can’t not smile during, Mr. Fingers (real name Larry Heard) makes exactly the kind of house music I like, driving but not too hard, nicely lush but also sparse, shifting and changing but keeping that beat that brought you to the floor in the first place. 
• Rema, “Calm Down” – Nigeria singer Rema, shining light of the new Afrobeats offshoot Afrorave, completely charmed me with this song that sent me back into the rest of his catalogue. Hip shaking leavened on the verses with the slow and low strings and his unhurried delivery, it’s that kind of magical track that feels like it’s freezing a moment in amber and opening up an entire view of the world. 
• Neneh Cherry and Sia, “Manchild” – What I’ve heard so far from Neneh Cherry’s album of reworkings, The Versions, is the platonic ideal of what I always hope these revisitings of a catalog’s classics will turn out to be, and my favorite is this version of Cherry’s 1989 ballad “Manchild” with Sia. “You’d sell your soul for a tacky song, like the one you hear on the radio. Turn around, ask yourself, ‘Manchild, will you ever win?’” 
• Wilco, “Tired of Taking it Out on You” – I’m one of those partisans of the first four Wilco records who lost interest like falling off a cliff around Sky Blue Sky, something Anne and I bonded over early, but I really enjoyed those last two Jeff Tweedy solo records and the barbed pastorals on Wilco’s terrific Curel Country feel like they give me some of those same pleasures. The subtle self-recrimination and easy loping beat on this sums up a kind of exhaustion I’ve been struggling with lately and does it without encouraging despair, like the best pieces of work it reminds me there’s hope in all of this. Thanks for reading and listening, as always. I appreciate you.