Saturday, February 11, 2023

Favorite Music of 2022

If you missed my Favorite Movies of 2022 list, here it is! Now here's my companion music post. I usually do the music post first, but my scheduling is weird this year. I'm genuinely sorry for how long this took, but at least here we are now!

I don't have a lot to say up here. Per usual, my usual disclaimers: I don't listen to enough metal, I feel out of touch with whatever's going on with rap, I'm slowly turning into a jazz dad. I also haven't had as much time as usual to review music on my weekly posts, so when there's a chance to link to a review, I will, but that doesn't happen a ton.

Anyway, enjoy! As always, I view this as a conversation-starter, not a definitive list; there's always more to hear, and I'm on the prowl to hear it! So let me know what music you enjoyed in 2022.


Favorite Albums:

1. The Smile: A Light for Attracting Attention
Am I just nostalgic for Radiohead? Probably! This side project is the closest we're going to get to new Radiohead music for a while, and I ended up listening to it a ton in 2022. Probably not going to blow anyone's mind, but it's good music, y'all!

[Read original review]






2. Sudan Archives: Natural Brown Prom Queen
I remember hearing the debut album from Brittney Parks, aka Sudan Archives, a few years ago and thinking it was good but never really returning to it. I should probably go spend some more time with it, because Sudan Archives's second album dominating my listening habits for the last month of 2022. A diverse collection of pop styles bent into beguiling, surprising shapes by Parks's penchant for exploration, I just couldn't get enough of Natural Brown Prom Queen. It really scratched an itch for me, an itch I didn't realize I had, honestly. Probably the catchiest album that I listened to this past year.



3. Makaya McCraven: In These Times
I coined a term last year to describe Blue Lick's Hold On, Hold Fast: plan-period core, and while this funky, orchestral-tinged jazz record doesn't really have a lot sonically in common with Blue Lick's experimental skitter, this was definitely the album I kept flipping on as soon as the bell rang and my planning block full of grading or lesson prep began at school. I hope this doesn't come across as me saying that In These Times is "background music," because nothing could be further from the truth. It is, above all, a surprising album, relentlessly inventive, folding big band flourishes into jazz fusion grooves that juke into twinkling string flourishes or percussive digressions. Love McCraven, love this record.

4. Alvvays: Blue Rev
I spent a long time more or less addicted to "In Undertow," the hazed-out anthem from Alvvays's previous album, so it's no surprise I cottoned to their album this year. I don't think there's anything I'm quite as in love with as "In Undertow," but there are an awful lot of ear-wormy tracks lurking in this record. "Easy On Your Own?" is probably the one sticking with me most right now, but plenty of other tracks could overtake it. It feels like over the past 5-6 years, we've seen a lot of bands trying to revive '80s/'90s indie rock sounds, and this is basically doing that UK fuzzy twee pop thing, but that's cool because Alvvays has the melodic chops to prove they could have cut it back in the heyday of that style.


5. Mary Halvorson: Amaryllis
Mary Halvorson is one of the great 21st century jazz guitarists and overall jazz innovators in general, and 2022 was a great year for her. Amaryllis is my favorite of the duo of records she released in May (the other being the still excellent Belladonna): technical yet playful, mind-bending, weirdly catchy. Belladonna is the more obvious showcase for Halvorson as a guitarist, but the fuller sound of Amaryllis gives her a much bigger canvas. I love her ability to make me think, "Oh, I think I know where this is going" right before juking into some completely unprecedented direction.



6. Jenny Hval: Classic Objects
The obligatory Jenny Hval spot. It feels like I put her in here every year. Looking back at my archives, I guess that's not true, but it's comforting to imagine her music as a constant presence in my life. As long as she keeps delivering songs like "Jupiter," I don't imagine that changing any time soon.







7. William Basinski & Janet Schaefer: "...on reflection"
Supremely relaxing. A piano piece edited ("woven," as the liner notes say) around itself for 43 minutes. I just got done assuring you that In These Times isn't background music, but "...on reflection" absolutely is, intentionally so, and it's beautiful.








8. Seabrook Trio: In the Swarm
A terrific jazz trio prominently featuring a diddley bow, which gives this album's uneasy, proggy sound an oddly Americana flavor. It's a weird juxtaposition, but I like it a ton.









9. SAULT: Earth
This enigmatic British soul group released six(!!!) albums in 2022, all of them worth a listen, each of them an incredibly distinct sonic object, from the symphonic choral music of Air and its sequel to the sincere gospel of Untitled (God). My favorite of the bunch is Earth, probably because it sounds a lot like a Parliament-Funkadelic record, which is hard to pass up.





10. Beyoncé: RENAISSANCE
In the 6 years since Lemonade, I had kind of wondered if Beyoncé had decided to wind down into a quiet, safe legacy act, what with misguided Lion King tie-in movies and such. But nope, she's still got it. There are some absolute monster dance-floor tracks here; my favorite is the stunning, Donna-Summer-sampling closer "Summer Renaissance," but few tracks on this album aren't monsters. Much as I continue to find the "Beyoncé as divine-right monarch" thing off-putting in theory, I continue to find her music irresistible in practice. Just banger after club banger here. I dunno if the house revival that Beyoncé and Drake seemed to want to will into existence will happen, but if all we got out of that was this album, I'd say we still ended up on top.



Great 2022 Songs Not On These Albums:

Arcade Fire: "The Lightning I, II"—It was a bad year to be an Arcade Fire fan, for reasons both quotidian (the new album was kinda meh) to catastrophic (Win Butler is a serial and pretty unrepentant sex pest, it turns out). But this track, the lead single for the new album, really captured the old magic. The moment when it shifts from "Part I" to "Part II" is that same goosebump-inducing crescendo they've been mining their whole career, and dammit, it still works. I don't know how I'll feel about Arcade Fire going forward, post-allegations, but at least there's this unintentional swan song.

Björk: "Fossora"—A lot of the press surrounding the new Björk album described a "mushroom rave," and this is the most mushroom ravey on the record. It melds the woodwind-heavy arrangements of Utopia with heavy, almost industrial beats in a way that evokes dank underground caverns, and I'm very into it. Oddly catchy.

Father John Misty: "The Next 20th Century"—I had a hard time getting into the new Father John Misty album, which was, bizarrely, very swing-jazz heavy, but this song, the final track, blew me away, and not just because it's mid-song explosion of guitar noise is a change of pace from the rest of the record. It's a song that opens with the lyric, "The nazis that we hired for our wedding band played your anthem like I wasn't there for the father-daughter dance," and doesn't let up with that sort of eerie, politically uneasy juxtaposition. Captures perfectly the weary paranoia I feel about the future. The prospect of another 20th century is a dreadful, apocalyptic one, but at least we'll get another round of good music.

Floating Points: "Vocoder"—I'm not 100% sure if it actually is a vocoder that Sam Shepherd's using on this club banger, but whatever it is, that liquid metal texture it has is incredible.

HAIM: "Lost Track"—At least once a year, it seems, HAIM just casually release these earworms that simply won't let me go. I couldn't even begin to estimate how many times I flipped this song on because it was stuck in my head.

Kendrick Lamar: "Mother I Sober"—A lot of Kendrick's album this past year felt like a response to his landmark Pulitzer award: a lugubrious, over-cooked record anxious to say Big Things. It was okay. "Mother I Sober" is maybe the most lugubrious and over-cooked track on the album (either that or the honestly kind of unlistenable "We Cry Together"), but for whatever the reason, it's the song of his I've returned to most from this album cycle, even more so than the critical favorite "The Heart Part 5." Built from a solemn piano loop and a knotty, emotionally anguished narrative (even for Kendrick) surrounding cycles of abuse in Black communities, it's a tough listen, but I find it riveting and profoundly poignant. I'm sure for some the "I broke the cycle" conclusion of the song feels like a self-aggrandizing manifestation of the savior complex Kendrick Lamar (and his fandom) has wrestled with for years now, but I find its admission profoundly moving.

Maren Morris: "The Furthest Thing"—I've heard Maren Morris compared to Golden Hour-era Kasey Musgraves, and while that's kinda true in places, this is really the only track of hers that registers as fully indebted to the Musgraves masterpiece. Golden Hour is great, so of course this is great, too, and the song has that knack that a lot of Morris's work has, i.e. taking fairly archetypal material (in this case, missing a distant lover) and making it feel distinct to her. Some really great, understated piano from co-writer Greg Kurstin on here, too.

Caroline Polachek: "Billions"—I guess I should start getting into Caroline Polachek. She kinda fell off my radar after Chairlift disbanded, but this song is great.

Wadada Leo Smith, Henry Kaiser, & Alex Varty: "Pacifica Koral Reef"—I'm cheating by including this, because it's basically an album: a 55-minute track, the only track from the one-track album of the same name. But it's good! Wadada Leo Smith is still out there doing his thing, and I love him for it.

CC Sorensen: "Alter Destiny"—An intoxicating synth (I think?) loop mixed with what sound like field recordings of frogs and other nocturnal creatures. Great, vibey, mildly kosmische stuff.

Spoon: "The Hardest Cut"—We need to be careful not to underappreciate Spoon, because it's not nearly as easy as they make it seem to churn out lithe indie pop-rock year after year like they do. One of their bouncier tracks in recent memory.

Szun Waves: "New Universe"—Szun Waves' typical electronic pulse mixed with spiritual jazz sounds great in this standout track from their album Earth Patterns, which was my #11 album of the year (if that makes any difference to you).

Jessie Ware: "Free Yourself"—Jessie Ware is easily the best person doing this disco-revival thing that's been going on for the past few years, and this is easily one of her best songs in that vein.

 

Honorable Mention:

Andrew Swafford: Sonnets—My buddy Andrew made a great album this year! It's a loose concept album inspired by Shakespeare's sonnets, and you should go listen to it (and buy it!) if that sounds at all interesting to you. One of my most-listened-to albums of the year, and I would have put it in the top 10 if that didn't feel like a conflict of interest.

Sunday, February 5, 2023

Mini Reviews for January 30 - February 5, 2023

Still (slowly) working on that 2022 music post. It will come out eventually, mark my words!

Movies

Infinity Pool (2023)
This was a lot of fun, and it seems like everyone making this movie had a lot of fun, too, including (especially!) Mia Goth, who basically crams every single impulse of her career into her character's arc here. She's having a five-course meal. It's also a much funnier movie than I was expecting. I suppose there's a way to make a satirical story about rich people behaving badly on a poor island nation into something scary, and the movie tepidly gestures toward that, but it's mostly just outrageous in an Old Testament kind of way that mixes its oddly archetypal premise (you can create clones to accept the capital punishment you deserve) with the extreme debasement that Alexander Skarsgård undergoes in response to his initial hubris of being enamored at finding a beautiful young fan of his writing. Watching Mia Goth just humiliate this dude over and over again is hilarious. Certainly not for everyone, but it is for me, for sure. Grade: B+

 

Three Thousand Years of Longing (2022)
I went in expecting something weird and messy, and it is to a degree, but it's not manic in the slightest, which was really what I was geared up for. Instead, it's this thoroughly melancholy and pensive piece of theater about the passage of time and the ways that we use story to create meaning out of that passage. Idris Elba and Tilda Swinton have unexpectedly great screen chemistry, and the storybook framing of the movie is not nearly as twee as it should have been. I was really moved by the end. That last scene in the park with Idris and Tilda walking into the horizon is perfect. Grade: A-

 

 

Yes, Madam! (皇家師姐) (1985)
I watched this for this week's episode of Cinematary (listen to it here!), thinking it was a good, early Michelle Yeoh showcase. And it's about 30% that! The other 70% is a fairly unengaging film about some bumbling low-level thieves getting up to Three-Stooges-esque shenanigans. This was probably a victim of my expectations, and it may have been more engaging if I had approached the movie understanding what it would be like, but I came here for Michelle Yeoh, dangit! Anyway, Michelle Yeoh is very good in the scenes she's in. Grade: B-

 

 

 

Silent Movie (1976)
It's more of a pseudo-silent movie in the vein of Modern Times or a Tati film (has Mel Brooks watched Tati??) than a true silent film, and it's a bit too reliant on title cards for my tastes. But there are some good gags here, impressive considering that visual gags aren't usually Brooks's strong suit. My favorite is the scene with Burt Reynolds showering and slowly acquiring more hands (you'll know it when you see it). That said, this runs out of gas majorly by the end, and also, there's a running "joke" where the punchline is simply a character yelling the f-slur (plus a quick transphobic aside in another case), and while I know it's no fun to make the very innovative observation that an old Hollywood movie is queer-phobic, those bits definitely put a damper on this movie's charm for me, which is a problem when this movie coasts so heavily on the quaint charm of its concept. Grade: B-

 

L'Atalante (1934)
When I approach movies that are typically considered among the greatest of all time, they usually inspire one of two responses: 1) I am as enthusiastic about it as its reputation warrants, or 2) I like the movie fine but don't get why it's considered one of the greats. L'Atalante is definitely in the latter camp, and I'm not sure why people think this is so amazing, especially when Murnau's Sunrise beat this movie to its punch several years earlier. That said, this movie is often very lovely, and I'm glad I watched it. I like the ship's crew, who are fun to watch. Also, the underwater sequence is really good. Anyway, good movie. Not sure why it's so canonized. Grade: B+

 

 

Books

Gay Neck, the Story of a Pigeon by Dhan Gopal Mukerji (1928)
About as dull as its title suggests, though once the titular pigeon goes to WWI, the book gets strangely high-minded and philosophical about the nature of conflict. Still, most of this is about a young Indian boy training a pigeon, without a lot of development of either the boy or the pigeon. Beautiful illustrations by Boris Artzybasheff, though. Stay tuned for a Newbery Chronicles podcast in the next couple weeks. Grade: C+