Syd – Screen of Distance

As with the last few years, the songs on this playlist are a combination of selections from my favorite records of the year, songs on records that might not have worked for me all the way through but I couldn’t get out of my head, and a smattering from some favorite revivals. “Songs” vs. “Spaces” mean the pieces are mostly – not always – more concise, and mostly, but not always, have vocals. It’s obviously subjective, and if I did the same exercise three months from now, probably 25% of each would fall on the other side of the fence.

https://tidal.com/browse/playlist/6c921c1c-caa0-41a3-82a8-10407b1ecb8c

Anteloper, “Earthlings” – Not even bothering with a spoiler warning: each of the playlists starts with Jaimie Branch. Even only interacting with her in those small bursts, I was really shaken by her death, and the work she put out this year makes that loss hurt even more because she was hitting her stride. This project with drummer Jason Nazary, produced and with extra instrumentation from the great Jeff Parker, was one of the most beguiling anything I heard all year. The stuttered, light drum ‘n’ bass drumming and infectious, overlapping synth and guitar hooks create a perfect background for Branch’s laid-back, mysterious vocal that’s somewhere between ’70s proto-rap, ’50s jazz poetry, and ’90s underground hip-hop, 100% breezy. “We are not the earthlings that you know. It really makes you think, though. Really makes me think. Really makes me drink, yo.”
Florence and the Machine, “Free” – There isn’t a song I don’t love on Florence and the Machine’s most fully realized record, Dance Fever, but this one has my favorite opening line of any song this year: “Sometimes I wonder if I should be medicated,” and a line toward the end that kept me going and gave me hope throughout the year: “Is this how it is? Is this how it’s always been? To exist in the face of suffering and death and somehow still keep singing?” With a groove that works as well for dancing alone in your bedroom or in the crush of strangers and a vocal that reminds me of my favorite dramatic Nick Cave moments but doesn’t sound like anyone else.
Eli “Paperboy” Reed, “I”m Bringing Home Good News” – I’ve enjoyed Eli “Paperboy” Reed’s detours of the last couple of albums a lot but hearing him back with a gutbucket rhythm section and a raging torrent of horns felt like coming home in the best way. And grappling with the catalog of one of the great American songwriters, Merle Haggard, throughout Down Every Road is a perfect mix. This ironic kiss-off hits exactly the right tones of righteous anger and righteous exuberance at freedom. “I was sitting downtown in a tavern when I made up my mind to go. And I knew you would be so glad to be free; I just thought to call to let you know.”
Soul Glo, “Gold Chain Punk (whogonbeatmyass?)” – Philly’s Soul Glo made their strongest, most expansive record yet without sacrificing any of the intensity or fury that hardcore’s always been known for. Not just an adrenaline shot – though it’s damn sure that too – this song is a journey, with some of the most impassioned, empathetic singing I’ve heard all year, from Pierce Jordan. “Giving so littlе takes so much, putting in work to look like he don’t givе a fuck. It’s worth it to pretend you never get wound up and shrug it off and put half on the Sag’ cusp. Just kidding, I’m’a hold it forever.”
Steven Bernstein’s Millennial Territory Orchestra with Catherine Russell, “River’s Invitation” – One of the last shows I saw in 2020, at LPR for Winter Jazzfest, was the MTO with Cat Russell singing, and it exceeded my high expectations for those two titans of not only American music but specifically for interpretations. So I was overjoyed when a record came out documenting that collaboration, Good Time Music. Their take on one of my favorite Percy Mayfield compositions balances a boisterous swing, a keen wit, and a dark heart. The arrangement highlights the longtime camaraderie of this band, giving everyone space to stretch out without losing the path, and Bernstein’s greasy trumpet solo and Russell’s loose, wry vocal send it to outer space. “Well, I don’t want to leave him, because I know he’s still alive. Someday I’m gonna find him and I’ll take him for a ride. And we’ll spend our days together in our home beneath the tide.”
Say She She, “Fortune Teller” – Dropping back into a more laid-back gear with Say She She, a newish Colemine signing who reminds me more of Philly roller rink sweetness and sun-dappled Cali soul than the harder funk and soul the label first hooked me with. The infectious harmonies of Nya Parker Gazelle, Piya Malik & Sabrina Cunningham, and the rich organ lines kept this in rotation for me all year, and I can’t wait to see this Brooklyn band live. “When you look up to the sky, and you can’t tell how high it is when you’re spinning into space, and you’re starting to lose faith, be safe. With me.”
Lady Wray, “Through It All” – I’d been a fan of Nicole Wray’s work as a featured artist and harmony singer through most of my adult life, from her work on Missy Elliott’s Supa Dupa Fly, with Lee Fields, the Black Keys, the duo Lady. But somehow her solo work missed me until Piece of Me knocked me out of my damn seat. A perfect slice of soul music, calling on all eras of the music’s history and making it all feel brand new. “Through it all, I can’t complain; it feels so good. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Maya de Vitry, “How Bad I Wanna Live” – Someone else I was late coming to, but violinist and singer de Vitry’s Violet Light gave me quite a bit of comfort this year, and I thought this song fit between these two in the sense of a sun-and-shadow cocktail painting the reasons to go on, the reasons to keep living and loving, even when it doesn’t make sense or when the reasons on the other side are stacked so tall. “Here on my knees on the wet, red clay, Death sings below in the ocean. All you goats and angels, I’m not dying today. I’m not dying today.”
Gabriel Kahane, “Sit Shiva” – Gabriel Kahane’s maybe my favorite orchestral pop singer-songwriter, but trying to put him in that box doesn’t quite do him justice. His arrangements perpetually surprise me but in a way that feels perfect, and his ability to capture the pieces of life we want to look away from or would brush past in concise, carved lyrics that always project a love for the world makes me want to work harder. This closing track from his Magnificent Bird, with Casey Foubert and Joseph Lorge on guitars and Elizabeth Zinman on backing vocals around Kahane, talks about how our rituals have transformed with technology in unsparing, gorgeous detail. “And the photographs of great-grandchildren multiplied, these two ancient lovers walking side by side— his body ravaged, and hers turned to light—He raised his hand to speak at last, and everyone held their breath or gasped as he said, ‘Goodbye, my darling, goodbye.'”
Leyla McCalla, “Memory Song” – I deeply regret not seeing the mixed media performance of Leyla McCalla’s song cycle that accompanies the album when I was at Big Ears, but the record that resulted, Breaking the Thermometer, had my heart almost immediately, Cellist-singer-songwriter McCalla weaves great covers of songwriters like Caetano Veloso and Frantz Casseus with astonishing originals like this one, for this travelogue/reckoning with her family’s history and the wider histories of Haiti and the US. “How much does a memory weigh?”
Beth Orton, “Arms Around a Memory” – A similarly slinky, mysterious groove – in this case from Shazad Ismaily and Tom Skinner – powers this standout from one of my favorite records from a songwriter I’ve been besotted with for over 20 years. A tribute to New York, sometimes obliquely and sometimes in your face, and to sorting through those memories that define us around the edges. “Well, I put my arms around a memory though you always told me not to try. Didn’t we make a beautiful life in your eight-floor walk-up that night?”
SG Goodman, “All My Love is Coming Back to Me” – Grittier but also working with a cyclical, hypnotic groove, this song kept nudging me, nagging at me, in the face of the almost impossible call to choose a single song off Goodman’s punch in the gut collection Teeth Marks. “I’ve seen the light of kingdoms coming, answered the call to rock and roll. Chased down the night that someone’s holding onto, and I kept the fight within my soul.”
Earthgang featuring Ari Lennox, “Run Too” – This standout from the terrific 2022 album Ghetto Gods from Atlanta rap duo Earthgang features a slashing chorus from Ari Lennox and introspective lyrics over a thrumming, insistent beat featuring gauzy synth chords and sparkling piano with plenty of space. “So who can I open up to? Probably this bottle; this sack of weed, it talks to me. We see eye to eye. We knee to knee, praying for some shit, ain’t sure if it exists.”
Terence Etc., “Terence’s — Love” – Terence Nance’s record VORTEX is one of the most mind-expanding pop/R&B records I’ve heard in years. The way he leans into the hairpin turns, the surprising harmony, the doubled sax and keys solo that feels like it’s melting in front of me, and makes it all sing like classic basement jams is a magic trick of the highest order. “Feeding on each other and loving every minute. I’m not grown. Tasted like right at first, but all wrong.”
Sick Thoughts, “Someone I Can Talk To” – New Orleans’ raw garage-punk band Sick Thoughts, for a long time held down by singer and only permanent member Drew Owen, has always been a live act you miss at your own peril if you’re lucky enough they come through your town. But – whether influenced by a more stable lineup or just woodshedding on his own – with Heaven is No Fun, they finally made a great album. This song takes up on some of the questioning/figuring out what keeps us going themes of the last few tracks, but with snarling guitars and a hard-edged bounce. “There are sometimes when I don’t know where I am. And there are somethings that I’ll never, never understand. Oh, no.”
Big Joanie, “What Are You Waiting For” – To my ears, London trio Big Joanie took a big step up on their second record Back Home. That huge, slashing riff and the spiky leads from Stephanie Phillips play perfectly with Estella Adeyeri’s big bass lines and the dry, crisp drumming of Chardine Taylor-Stone. “You couldn’t make it back. You wore the weight that you earned. It’s all yours; she’s not the only one living without a million rituals from a time forgotten.”
Scrunchies, “New What” – With their own sophomore record, Scrunchies also felt to me like they went further toward defining themselves. I love Feral Beach front to back, they were my favorite set at Dirtnap Records’ anniversary and that almost martial drumming and melodic bass groove the song sets up always catches my ear. That moment when Laura Larson’s guitar explodes through those textures is always exciting. “Elevate to get translucent – tape your feelings to the wall. Emerge from below fully formed. Put me away when I destroy because I’m bored. Tear apart is not enough when I want more more more.”
Billy Woods featuring Mike Ladd, “Christine” – Rapper-songwriter Billy Woods’ Aethiopes brought him to another level of recognition, and for good reason. With tracks all produced by his co-writer Preservation and judiciously chosen guests, it evokes a mood of dread and possibility without feeling monochromatic. This track with Mike Ladd, one of my gateway drugs to this sort of underground hip-hop, is a favorite in an album I couldn’t find a bad song on anywhere. “Lulled by streetlamps and the blackness between, my parents’ argument picking up speed. In and out of bad dreams. That’s what they said when they saw him dead in the road. Now I know it was the shadow of them black wings. Unmarked followed us for ten blocks.”
Lucky Daye, “Fever” – I knew Lucky Daye’s songwriting but I missed his debut album. Candydrip caught my ear immediately, one of the best contemporary R&B records I’ve heard in a while, those slashing, static-y cymbals and the echoing backing vocals on the track enhance the sweaty, breathless quality of the love-as-disease metaphor he slinks through. “All night chase you, no lime; another round to help me pass the time. Maybe this mary will help get it out my mind. Feels so right, yeah, ooh, and these pills don’t cut the passion.”
Brian Damage, “You’ve Got Friends” – I loved Brian Baker’s earlier band Brat Curse but his project/band (sometimes featuring five or six people live but mostly recorded entirely by Baker with some judicious guests) Brian Damage encompasses more influences, more of the world, and makes more space for his idiosyncratic look at the world; one of my favorite Columbus bands in a while. Tis lead-off track to their delightful Shit For Brains is co-written by Alissa Paynick and plays with ’90s lo-fi textures – starting with the modem sound – and a disaffected vocal couching a phenomenal, mean hook. “I live my life online. I don’t have one any other time.”
Sweet Knives, “Oh Danny” – A more direct but just as specific and powerful look at infatuation by one of my favorite songwriters of the last 20+ years, Memphis’ Alicja Trout, in what’s grown into her most flexible band, Sweet Knives. This song has a riff worthy of every guitarist I’ve loved since Johnny Thunders and a hook as good as the Shangri-Las, it’s a pop masterpiece from someone who writes more of them than anybody and a keystone of a record Spritzeria which Anne and I saw them do most of live that confirms the songs are as good as they’ve ever done. “Oh, Danny, did you come back for more? I’m hearing growling, squealing, scratching down on the cellar door. Oh, Danny, don’t you know I believe you – in what you say and what you do. Oh, Danny, don’t you know I could never be through with you.”
Aoife O’Donovan, “Age of Apathy” – The first record I fully loved this year, O’Donovan’s collaboration with producer Joe Henry had a slower build for me than her earlier solo records. I love it, but I had to grapple with it a little more – this title track, though, caught me immediately with the sense of drama and atmospherics sharpened to a fine point and one of my favorite combinations of lyric and melody she’s written, leading up to a beautiful Joni Mitchell quote/nod that avoids the way that kind of trope usually feels tacked on. “Under the shade of a quaking aspen tree; we came for New England’s party, but the colors haven’t started, so it’s just you and me.”
Keb’ Mo’, “Good to Be (Home Again)” – Keb’ Mo’ was one of a million artists I got turned onto by our NPR station WCBE when I was in high school and saw him not long after at the Southern Theater. I haven’t kept up on everything he’s done since, but his blend of smooth Americana and country blues still has a place in my heart, and once in a while, he still bowls me over. This title track off his 2022 record, co-written with Beastie Boys collaborator and fellow LA native Money Mark, and co-produced with Vince Gill, is probably my favorite example of that formula. The honeyed melody feels like the warmth of old streets you had some issues with but comes back in the fondness of your memory and the joy of having made it, of being able to tell the tale. “It’s good to be here. It’s good to be anywhere. Good to be back, good to be home again.”
John Moreland, “Neon Middle June” – I’ve been a fan for a while, but John Moreland’s Birds in the Ceiling stunned me, the kind of not-quite-departure that reminded me a little of Fred Eaglesmith’s Dusty. When I was lucky enough to see him at Skully’s, these songs translated just as well solo with an acoustic guitar, keeping their intensity and atmosphere, but the perfect production and subtle arrangements – the electronics on this slow creep of a relationship on the brink – co-produced with Matt Pence from Centro-Matic who also plays drums and accompanied by the great Bonnie Whitmore and John Calvin Abney on everything else really make this record indelible. “When you were a child, your faith was automatic; asleep in steady traffic, navigating western static. And what if who I am is who I used to be? Darling, you know that’s the thought that paralyzes me.”
Anaïs Mitchell, “On Your Way (Felix Song)” – Probably the new song I played the most this year and it was always there for me. Seeing her do it live with Anne, Heather, and Adam at Brooklyn Made was stunning – it had been six or seven years since I’d seen Mitchell live – but I also have specific memories of this in my headphones, walking out of the subway into the streets she’s talking about in New York, or an early morning stroll through the Pushkin Gardens in Mexico City, or downtown Columbus looking for some coffee and a hangover-killing lunch. Thinking about the people I miss in the same way she pays tribute to her old friend, and thinking about how perfectly crafted this easy-rolling, questioning shuffle is; and the whole self-titled record is packed with songs this good. “I remember when you were a seeker staring into a stereo speaker. Kick drum and someone singing made you one with everything. I remember when the tape was rolling, you were going where the take was going. No regrets and no mistakes.”
Amanda Shires, “Fault Lines” – Amanda Shires’ songs and records get better and better. I remember seeing her with Anne at Rumba supporting My Piece of Land and feeling like she’d broken through. But even being a fan didn’t prepare me for the textures and power on Take It Like a Man, produced by Lawrence Rothman. Another record I had an extremely hard time finding a song off of, but this solo written song, with its dramatic strings lighting up the room that recall Orbison but also Charles Stepney and crushing guitar solo, I probably played three times before I moved onto the next song. “I cried, I asked, and I bawled, curled up on the floor with it all: all the time, the want, the overwhelming volume of breathing.”
Here It Is Band featuring Luciana Souza, “Hey, That’s No Way to Say Goodbye” – This year brought with it a surfeit of strong, consistent tribute records , including Here It Is, the Blue Note Records tribute to singer-songwriter Leonard Cohen. A core group of jazz musicians, including Bill Frisell, Immanuel Wilkins, Larry Goldings, Scott Colley, and Nate Smith, provide intimate, sympathetic backings that use all of their skills, no one feels like they’re slumming on material that’s not interesting, backing a series of expertly chosen vocalists. My first exposure to Luciana Souza was on her record of musical settings of one of Cohen’s influences, Neruda, and I’ve been a huge fan ever since. Her reading on this, one of my favorite Cohen songs and a guidepost for finding equanimity and grace in art (even if we fall short of it in life), might be the new standard I hold all others to. “I’m not looking for another as I wander in my time. Walk me to the corner now, our steps will always rhyme. You know my love goes with you, as your love stays with me. It’s just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea.”
The Delines, “Little Earl” – This torchy collaboration between Willy Vlautin and Amy Boone just gets better and deeper. Hard-luck narratives are rarely as sharply carved, and the arrangements have touches of lounge jazz but understand the sense of dread in those little rooms that cure the walls like generations of cigarette smoke and spilled tequila in the low-pile carpet. The strings and Hi Records-y horns come in at exactly the right moment around Cory Gray’s organ, and those little backing vocals stabs add up to a song that makes me want to write another short story, want to try harder. “Little Earl’s brother is bleeding in the backseat. It’s been twenty miles, and he can’t stop crying. Passing the houses on stilts on Holly Beach; the A/C don’t work, and Earl’s sick in the Gulf Coast heat.”
Ashley McBryde, “Straight Tequila Night” – The Dan Auerbach-produced John Anderson tribute was a chance to get reacquainted with a whole catalog of songs I grew up loving. This one probably most of all, I adored the melody as a kid before I had any idea about the meat of the song, that sense of trying to keep it together and knowing, like clockwork, it’s going to explode in messy ways and hoping the people nearby will tolerate you even if they don’t put you back together because they’re hoping you’ll be better next time all told from the remove of the bartender. And Ashley McBryde, one of my favorite contemporary country singer-songwriters knocks it out of the park. “If you really want to know, she comes here a lot. She loves to hear the music and dance. K-13 is her favorite song. If you play it, you might have a chance.”
Rose Gold, “Addicted” – A song without the remove of the last couple, written from the perspective of someone in the middle of that struggle with themselves. Rose Gold’s vocal, tightly coiled but glowing red, and the big drums around a keyboard line and cinematic synth strings, add up to a new favorite use of the perennial love-as-addiction metaphor. “I know I said I didn’t need your help but I do. Why am I not fucking perfect? Why can’t I kick this shit?”
Craig Finn, “Messing With the Settings” – Legacy of Rentals didn’t move me as much as the last few Craig Finn records but this song was a sledgehammer in the gut, a flawless example of what he does better than anyone working. The narrative gives largely equal weight and care to both the characters, and it rings true for any of us who’ve had those immediately intense friendships in one bar or another, with a well-calibrated, sweeping arrangement driven by keys and strings around spoken verses and sung choruses. “She had a dwindling grace and a faith in the industry that never really made sense to me.”
Cardiac Poet featuring Baba zora, Masufuria, Nate Speaks, Mbokani – I don’t speak any of the Kenyan languages, so I can’t comment on the narrative from this riveting track from spoken word artist turned rapper Cardiac Poet, with collaborators, but it also uses prominent strings and keys, and it feels like it has the same urgency; like it’s coming from the same place as the last few songs.
Horsegirl, “Anti-glory” – One of my favorite new bands, pal Steve Kirsch turned me onto this Chicago trio, and I was lucky enough to see them on their first headlining tour this year. The clatter and stretched-out guitar remind me of a less noisy mid-period Sonic Youth, and it’s been a joy watching them grow into their power (everyone I know who saw them open for Yo La Tengo this Hanukkah raved about what a different band they seemed from earlier in the year), so the thought that their terrific debut record Versions of Modern Performance is a harbinger of even better things is very exciting. “Turning away, can’t make it out, out loud. Now, feel a fever flow through the town.”
The Weeknd, “Out of Time” – The Weeknd’s newer one, Dawn FM, better synthesizes his earlier portraits of painful, cracked interiority with his pop sensibility than his earlier records, and this track with its swooping synthesized woodwinds and hand claps, is existential loneliness in the heart of couples skate perfection. “Say ‘I love you, girl’, but I’m out of time. Say, ‘I’m there for you,’ but I’m out of time.”
Charli XCX, “Every Rule” – I knew Charli XCX for the big dancefloor smashes but on Crash I was increasingly drawn to the ballads, especially this conflicted, paranoid spray of colors and lust, that keyboard solo toward the end of the song is a stiletto stab in the solar plexus. “Met up late night by the Bowery and in the morning we got coffee. Acted like strangers and told no friends, it wasn’t easy to pretend.”
Punch Brothers, “The Last Thing on my Mind” – This highlight from the Punch Brothers’ Tony Rice re-imagining, Hell on Church Street, felt like it went with the previous couple of songs because it takes the warmth of the Tom Paxton original and squeezes it like trying to turn coal into a diamond, like trying to cram the intensity of the feelings of regret into the pit of your stomach. Hearing this band of virtuosos play with this much clenched restraint is incredibly moving to me. “Are you going away with no word of farewell? Will there be not a trace left behind? Well, I could have loved you better; I didn’t mean to be unkind. You know that was the last thing on my mind.”
George Strait, “Willy the Wandering Gypsy and Me” – Another of those hyperfocused, high quality tribute records with a greatly deserving focus was Live Forever: A Tribute to Billy Joe Shaver. As expected, it feels like every great who had a few years with a Texas address shows up on this, digging into one of the greatest catalogs from a state that’s given us so many indisputable great songwriters. George Strait came up in the lone star state a few years after Shaver broke through and he brings the appropriate gravitas and twinkle in his eye that made him probably the pre-eminent country start of my lifetime, laying way back on this quintessential neo-honky tonk tune and giving it possibly its definitive reading. “Three fingers whiskey pleasures the drinkers; moving does more than the same thing for me. Willy, he tells me that doers and thinkers say moving’s the closest thing to being free.”
Sarah Borges, “Lucky Day” – Continuing her fruitful collaboration with producer Eric Ambel, Borges’ Together Alone is another series of rock-solid songs that draw on every aspect of the American roots tradition with hooks I can’t get out of my head, and killer playing (in this case featuring Borges’ partner and former Bottle Rockets’ bassist Keith Voegele, John Perrin on drums, and Ambel on lead guitar around her rhythm guitar). The soaring quality of this one reminds me of the first song of hers I gravitated toward, “The Day We Met,” without feeling like a retread. “I get better at playing the numbers: take my chances and wait. I’ve been waiting forever.”
Combo Chimbita, “La Perla” – This New York band helped bring Colombian Chimbita music to prominence for white American music fans like me, while working with other elements of the music they’re around and dealing with the contemporary world through the lens of the music they love. Their record this year IRE is their most diverse, focused, and potent, big grooves fused to a righteous anger around Carolina Oliveros’ flamethrower vocals.
Ice Spice, “Munch (Feelin’ U)” – One of my favorite new rappers and a pulsing, hard-edged example of the new wave of drill. This was easily my favorite of the all-great singles Ice Spice put out this year. “Saying you love me but what do you mean? Pretty as fuck and he like that I’m mean.”
Black Thought and Danger Mouse featuring Michael Kiwanuka, “Aquamarine” – I fell for the Roots early, high school I think, and Black Thought finally has a solo record as good as his best work with the home team. The dusty, left-turn-riddled beats from Danger Mouse get a perfect showcase between Black Thought’s and Kiwanuka’s vocals. “Ever patiently waiting with the demons we deserve. Better be willing to pay with every dream that you deferred.”
Garbage Greek, “Here We Go” – Garbage Greek grew into one of my favorite Columbus bands over the last couple of years and they solidified that standing with their best album Quality Garbage, with lead vocalist and guitarist Lee Mason leading the charge, the melodic bass lines and harmonies of Patrick Koch, Jason Winner’s driving but also nuanced drumming and the secret sauce of Adam Scoppa’s additional percussion and backing vocals, it’s a nigh perfect rock band, in the ’60s mode but not beholden to it. “Am I right? Is this the one?”
Sarah Shook and the Disarmers, “Talkin’ To Myself” – One of my favorite singers added some additional textures to their work and made their best record, Nightroamer, with the production assistance of Pete Anderson. This organ-laced stomper, tinged with acid guitar, is a favorite example that killed me live before the album came out and was an instant favorite when I finally got the record. “Lookin’ at cats on the corner. Pills in the kitchen for my cough. Bad shit going down on the border. Bad brain don’t ever turn off.”
Wesley Bright, “Oh, Think About It” – Cleveland’s finest soul singer, Wesley Bright, continues to broaden his palette without leaving everything that made us love him behind, bringing the horns and organ back on this killer track with a sprightly northern soul beat and doubled backing vocals that send this piece of longing into the stars. “Look in the mirror, you’ll see things much clearer. Then you’ll believe and see why she wanted you to leave.”
Call Me Rita, “Measure Twice, Cut Once” – Another of my favorite Columbus bands, Call Me Rita takes poet-visual artist Vanessa Jean Speckman and teams her with a band of heavy hitters, including her partner Micah Schnabel from Two Cow Garage on guitar and backing vocals, Jay Gasper (best known for his work with Lydia Loveless) on guitar and keys, Todd May (who Anne has called the best songwriter in Columbus and has exquisite taste in other songwriters he accompanies) on bass and backing vocals, and Jason Winner who I mentioned earlier with Garbage Greek on drums. This is a perfect, furious response to the world on fire that I went back to over and over again. “The creditors keep calling me. How much more can I bleed?”
The Sparklers, “Late Great Saturday Night” – One of my favorite newer bands in the vein of the Replacements. The Sparklers hit my radar when pal Steve Kirsch joined them on drums, leading up to 2022’s sparkling Miss Philadelphia record and it’s jam packed with witty lyrics, sharp playing, and hooks on top of hooks. “What blasphemies come alive? Still learning the language of loss.”
Hurray for the Riff Raff, “PIERCED ARROWS” – My love of Hurray for the Riff Raff has always been about Alynda Segarra’s songs and their Life on Earth is full of excellent examples. The electronic throb and echoing drums of this song create the perfect atmosphere for a vocal that goes from the edge of broken to profound declamations from the rooftops. “This was the place that fell apart; you were the one to break it. I don’t believe in anything. This whole fucking world is changing.”
Swamp Dogg, “I Need a Job” – Jerry Williams has been making raw, perfect records in his Swamp Dogg persona since 1970 and the renaissance of recent years has been an amazing pleasure to witness. His new one, I Need a Job… So I can Buy More Autotune finds him in fine witty, acerbic form, riding a classic, horn-and-harmonica laden groove. “Food is so high, it would be cheaper if we ate the morning.”
Pillbox Patti, “Good People” – Songwriter Nicolette Hayford’s Pillbox Patti alter-ego/debut album is a collection of unflinching portraits of people she has affection for without letting them off the hook. This song pairs a sinister groove with an entrancing, elevated conversational vocal. “They say the good die young; well, I don’t believe it. ‘Cause look at us: a little fucked up, but we’re still breathing.”
Lyle Lovett, “The Mocking Ones” – This original on Lyle Lovett’s stunning 12th of June finds him in the mode of many of his best songs, picking up a conversation seemingly in the middle and finding the same affection and gratitude for the people in his life and his songs that characterized mentors of his like Guy Clark and Nanci Griffith. “I said before, and now the long time’s come, to wait, forget, and still remember some. To hold our heads above the laughing tongues falling from the faces of the mocking ones.”
Joan Shelley, “Bolt” – Louisville singer-songwriter Joan Shelley put out one of her best records – and that’s a high bar – with this year’s The Spur. Full of songs that gave me something to chew on, with melodies and images I couldn’t shake. This one breaks my heart every time, an example of having the metaphor right in the title and still being surprising. “Haven’t you grown enough? Aren’t you old enough? Can’t you carry more than your heavy self? There’s no hiding, no lies, having two eyes to watch you all the time; see right through you.”
Alabaster dePlume, “Fucking Let Them” – Spoken word artist and saxophonest Alabaster dePlume found the perfect backing band in Jaimie Branch’s Fly or Die (Branch with Chad Taylor, Jason Ajemian, and Lester St Louis) and they provide a ferocious accompaniment throughout Gold – Go Forward in the Courage of Your Love. “I am brazen like a baby. Like the stupid sun. And I go forward in the courage of your love.”
Cory Henry, “Something New” – I was lucky enough to see Henry and his Funk Apostles this summer touring his newest, extremely strong collection, Operation Funk. This is another dancefloor smash with a gorgeous, soaring vocal and his majestic keyboards. “‘We may not be young anymore, but the night is,’ this is what she said when she looked in my eyes. ‘Follow me, take my hand, let’s go up to a higher ground.'”
Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway, “Nashville Mess Around” – Another instant classic dance song of a different stripe by another virtuoso who’s breaking out with better and better songwriting on every outing. Guitarist and songwriter Molly Tuttle killed me on her new one, Crooked Tree, featuring musical snapshots of different points in her life and career. The tune and interlaced guitar, fiddle, and banjo here are killer but I also live the sardonic smile she paints the lyrics with. “So all you pals and pilgrims and in-from-out-of-towners, we had a boom, now there’s no room, so don’t you hang around here. You’re out of luck, so don’t pick up when Nashville comes a-calling. You’d best go back to Fond du Lac and quit your honky tonking.”
SYD featuring Smino, “Right Track” – I didn’t love Syd’s Broken Hearts Club quite as much as I wanted to but there were a handful of undeniable songs that give me hope the rest of it will grow on me. A marvelous, seductive vocal and a finger snapping backing track with a charming feature verse from Smino. “Seems like we’re on the right track; keep it up, you keep me coming right back. You know I’m trying to wife that.”
Primer, “Feel The Way I Do” – Alyssa Midcalf’s Primer project released Incubator, a record of electronic pop using a lot of ’80s textures that normally turn me off but she doesn’t use them in a too-precious throwback way, she roughs them up and brings in other elements. I found the songs entrancing and the vocal delivery mesmerizing. The expansion toward the end of the song feels like earned catharsis, like the first sunny day after an endless gray week. “I’ve been living inside me my whole life. I can’t seem to fight it, I don’t know why. I tremble as it grows.”
Illogic, “Play to Win” – Illogic was the first rapper in Columbus I loved, that felt like he was part of a scene I knew and understood. I still pull out Celestial Clockwork regularly. His last couple of records find him going deeper into making his own beats and The Transition is an excellent, mature record where the tracks live up to the excellent producers he was working with when I first heard him and the songs gel, the record he only could have made with his wisdom and experience. I keep going back to it and finding something – or some things – new. “He wasn’t sorry for the moves made, just try’n’a get home, sliding shoots and climbing ladders was the strategy.”
Becca Stevens and Attacca Quartet, “45 Bucks” – Jazz singer and composer Becca Stevens has been expanding her sonic universe on the last few records, with her expansive breakthrough Wonderbloom, last year’s collaboration with the Secret Trio, and this year’s fantastic work with the Attacca Quartet who Anne and I were lucky enough to see at Big Ears this year. This revisiting of an older song of Stevens is a perfect example of their powers combining. The strings chasing and jousting her defiant vocals in a lyric that uses the same lines over and over, juxtaposing in a way that evokes a pantoum. “It must be hard for you to get up in the morning.”
Dedicated Men of Zion, “Rock My Soul” – I’ve always been a sucker for deep gospel, and North Carolina quartet Dedicated Men of Zion produced an example that blows me away with The Devil Don’t Like It. Adding to the power of those voices in concert is a band filled with Memphis all-stars including Al Gamble on organ, Will Sexton and Matt Ross-Spang on guitars, and a swinging, crunching rhythm section of Mark Edgar Stuart and George Sluppick. “If I get to Heaven, I’m gonna swing and shout. There’s gonna be nobody up there who’s going to turn me out.”
Amanda Anne Platt and the Honeycutters, “Eurydice” – Asheville roots rock band Amanda Anne Platt and the Honeycutters released their best album with this year’s sprawling The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea and this ballad, brimming with slow-boil intensity, is a prime example of what they do so well – the steel guitar and accordion or harmonium running through the track like a river without undercutting the vocal. “Is that darkness in your dreams? My darling, I believe, it’s not loneliness you fear. It’s your own heart that keeps you here.”
Spiritualized, “Let It Bleed (For Iggy)” – Any new Spiritualized record is cause for rejoicing in my corner of the world. This song rising from a slow-burn ballad into a majestic explosion is a prime example of what Jason Pierce and his shifting collection of musicians do better than anyone in my lifetime. “I labored over this life for too long: there’s nothing to behold. I wanted it to be better for you. A minute down the road, I wanted it to go straight to your heart and say, ‘Darling, I was wrong.'”
Golomb, “Western Threshold” – I’ve watched Xenia Bleveans Holm (vocals and bass) and Hawken Holm (drums) grow up. Their parents, Dave and Melanie, are great friends and, between them, have given me some of my favorite musical experiences in this town, in bands like Ugly Stick, The Townsmen, Bigfoot, and Total Foxx. I was a big fan of Xenia’s earlier band, Cherry Chrome, but I adore this new power trio featuring Mickey Shuman (vocals and guitar). Their fantastic eponymous debut album reminds me of everything I loved about ’90s indie rock but with a fresh, contemporary spin, buried hooks I want to dig and uncover. “Hey, baby, it’s somewhere between late morning and early night. I’m in the western threshold, not another soul in sight. And I write to you.”
Rose Mercie, “Un château” – Paris-based band Rose Mercie’s record Kieres Agua got its hooks in me and hasn’t let go. This song is a nighttime rainstorm in the middle of a city, neon-splashed puddles and shadows like a Will Eisner comic strip in that intoxicating keyboard part and those guitar stabs.
Jenny Hval, “Cemetery of Splendour” – I’ve been a big fan of Jenny Hval for many years, anyone who’s ever read one of these lists has probably seen her name. Her last records have been growing in accessibility and ease without sacrificing any of the mystery, the sharp edges that drew me to her work in the first place. This almost torturously slow ballad with its suspended keyboard chords and rotating vocal, drums as subtle as a heartbeat before building to a complicated climax, is a key example of what I love so much about her work. “Now you go to the afterlife; you’ve heard good things about it but the embers are cooling and the spirits are just names plus one.”
Robert Glasper featuring Q-Tip and Esperanza Spalding, “Why We Speak” – I’ve liked all of keyboardist Robert Glasper’s Black Radio records, drawing the various streams of contemporary black music together and staking out a claim for the jazz he came up playing and still plays well. This song sets up a sinuous, sensual groove around Spalding and Q-Tip’s vocals in English, French and Spanish for something that would sound good in any lounge at 2 am. “To remember after all their sage disasters are done, se souvenir.”
Leikeli47, “LL Cool J” – Someone else I was slow to, but Leikeli47’s third record Shape Up got me immediately, especially this seductive, sparse single. “Boy, you got the type of shine you only find in a mine – I dug deep and worked hard just to make you mine.”
Bad Bunny, “Yo No Soy Celoso” – I liked the earlier Bad Bunny records but Un Verano Sin Ti hit me at exactly the right time, and its blend of other music in with the reggaeton and Latin trap that made his name feels perfectly calibrated. The hard acoustic guitar strum underpinning this track and the whistling give a lightness to it that rubs up against his weathered vocal in just the right way.
Rosalía, “MOTOMAMI” – I checked out Rosalía when I mentioned the singer-songwriter Roasli to my pal Mary at work and she thought I had the name wrong. So I was already primed for her best, most sprawling record to come out and it’s delightfully weird and diverse. I need more unabashed pop records taking these kinds of big swings in my life.
Nikki Lane, “Try Harder” – I liked Nikki Lane from her first record on – and still rave about seeing her at Twangfest six or seven years ago – but her collaboration with producer Josh Homme, Denim and Diamonds, makes the songs snap into sharper relief with the rhythm section amped up just slightly and her vocal nudged to the front of the mix. “One of these days you’re gonna wake up and find yourself wondering if you done right or should’ve done something else. It gets hard to believe you’re gonna find a way, but that’s the price you pay.”
Ceclie McLorin Salvant, “Moon Song” – Cecile McLorin Salvant has long been at the front of the pack of current jazz singers, with a keen interpretive gift. The last few records, she’s proving she’s also one of our best songwriters, and Ghost Song is another leap in that direction, with stunning accompaniment by Aaron Diehl on piano. “Let me write you a song and long to belong to you; write you a song from a distance. Let me love you like I love the moon.”
Ralph White, “Something About Dreaming” – Bad Livers helped redefine what I thought about roots music, but I hadn’t kept up with Ralph White’s music since leaving the band. This title track from one of the two terrific albums old friend Jerry David DeCicca produced on White this year holds that voice and banjo playing up to the light and makes every crack, every bit of weathering – every surprising stretch of a vowel – not only apparent but beautiful. “Things ain’t never gonna be the same and I just listen to the wind, the stars, and the rain. I listen to falling rain.”
Sharon Van Etten, “Home to Me” – Sharon Van Etten’s records keep getting richer, a reminder of how much life has to give you at every turn as long as you’re willing to put in the attention and you have the craft to express it. The rapturous slow crawl of this song and the intensity of its act of love makes it a standout for me on the great We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong. “I take my time so you can say to me, ‘What makes it right is an unknown thing.'”
Earl Vallie, “A Beautiful Creature” – Earl Vallie was a good friend of mine back when he lived in Columbus. Then, I knew him mostly as a visual/installation artist. So it’s a beautiful thing to hear my old pal’s voice on this fully formed, stirring music. His record Ghost Approaches merges finely-observed workaday detail with high drama, given exquisite production from Deerhoof’s Greg Saunier who also plays drums with Joel T. Crocco rounding out the rhythm section. “Spending all my gold just painting palm trees red, then I spread my wings again. Grabbing what I seek to find from massive swarms of things I’ve left behind.”
Maisie Kappler, “Fit for a Queen” – A Columbus singer-songwriter I just stumbled onto this year, Kappler’s mix of the dramatic and the ephemeral is a rare gift, paired with cut-crystal melodies that keep me coming back. This memory of the artist’s grandmother struck me as soon as I heard it and I’m still drawn back, finding new things that resonate with my own memories of the grandmother I miss very much and things so specific to her experience I’m glad to be given that window into their relationship. “When I was younger, I asked my grandmother how she held onto her youth. She stared at her whiskey, then she answered ‘Vanity.’ Surely it must have been true.”
BAYLI, “Think of Drugs” – Brooklyn R&B singer BAYLI was one of my favorite discoveries this year, this glittering cri de coeur uses the creaminess of the production and the silky, stretching melody to enhance the pain of longing in the lyrics in a way I’m always a sucker for. “Breathe before I delete your number from my phone. Do you ever think of me like you think of drugs? Like you think when you think of drugs?”
Weyes Blood, “The Worst Is Done” – Weyes Blood has been broadening their approach and writing more accessible melodies for the last few years – I remember seeing a great show with David Banbury at Cafe Bourbon Street a few years ago that felt like a breakthrough – and the records keep getting stronger and more expansive, more about reckoning with the world. “Got kinda old; it happened to me quickly. Burned down the house waiting for someone to save me.”
Vieux Farka Touré and Khruangbin, “Savanne” – Farka Touré teamed up with rising instrumental lounge-rock band Khurangbin for a kaleidoscopic tribute to his father Ali, one of the true giants of Malian music that keeps everything good about his father’s work, every memorable part, without shackling it to an era or a style.
Willie Nelson, “Tower of Song” – Willie Nelson’s grappled with the Leonard Cohen songbook a few times over the years but there’s something beautiful about him taking on this mythopoetic look back now with sparse accompaniment and longtime foil Mickey Raphael’s harmonica right up front next to him. As I did with the monthly playlists, I tried to end this with a prayer. Thank you for listening or reading. “All the bridges are burning that we might have crossed, but I feel so close to everything that we lost. We’ll never have to lose it again.”