My 16 Favorite Albums of 2016
2016 was an amazing year for music. As the world took darker turns, musicians spoke out; protest albums & songs were released, money was raised and given away, the power of music became important again. There were SO MANY incredible albums released! Underneath everything, it was mind blowing watching artists use music as their way of processing what they saw going on in the world. Never have I had more fun listening to music, going to shows, seeking out new artists, & spreading the love of wonderful songs. The following 16 albums were chosen for their importance in my life this year. Buy music, go to shows, support change, protect rights, celebrate lives, & recognize the magical human power of creativity. Without further romanticizing, in no particular order (unless you’re familiar with the English alphabet) here is my fifth annual list...my 16 favorite albums of 2016!
ADIA VICTORIA / Beyond The Bloodhounds
This year’s list of my 16 favorite records begins, appropriately & challengingly, with Adia Victoria. It’s hard to write about the songs that make up the fiercely defiant Beyond The Bloodhounds (Victoria’s Nashville produced debut album) but I believe it to be one of the most important collections of songs written and released since I started making these lists five years ago. For me to call these songs Southern Gothic Blues, to rave about the ferocious togetherness of Victoria & her band or her no-holds-barred, meticulously aggressive lyrical onslaught, would not do justice to the meaning behind this record. These are songs that only Adia can sing, and Bloodhounds sounds, start-to-finish, like her record.
The album opens a cappella, with Victoria’s haunting croon and finger snaps softly wailing a few lines from a Doc Pomus song “Lonely Avenue” from the 50′s. After that it’s buckle up for the runaway train (complete with organ sirens blazing) rush of “Dead Eyes,” the fuzzed out crunch of “Body Rot,” and the vocal acrobatics & pulsing guitar that make personal favorite “Sea of Sand” boil with life and barely concealed rage. Adia writes lyrics with a devastating purpose and pulls absolutely no punches. Yes, there is anger in her writing. She writes of loneliness, isolation, & rage, but she also mixes in dry humor (”here’s a song for the landlord, I’m sorry for the holes in the wall / here’s a song for my friends, I hate every single one of yall”) and dark romance (”who says there ain’t room for two? You can join me in my tornado.”). When her words turn toward the topic of race she spits her brightest fire, and she saves her most cutting, insightful, incisive, and downright brutal truths for taking on the race politics that (let’s face it) are one of the most important thing musicians can be writing about right now. Bottom line, as Victoria herself puts it “There is still darkness left to mine here. We aren’t clear of our past, in fact our present political woes are patterned on it. It is here for us to reflect upon in our music.” Buckle up folks and LISTEN.
“I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout Southern belles, but I can tell you ‘bout Southern hell / When your skin give ‘em cause to take & take...I’m stuck in the South...”
AMERICAN TRAPPIST / American Trappist
One of the best surprises of 2016 came in the form of three EPs released wonderfully in my favorite three months of Summer from ex River City Extension frontman Joe Michelini. Having LOVED River City’s first three albums (you can find their sophomore effort all the way up at #2 my 2012 Favorites list) I was super disappointed when they broke up after 2015′s divisive Man of Conviction. But as musical breakups so often do, they spawned new songs.
The first EP In the trilogy (romantically titled In Satan’s Kingdom National Park) came blasting through in June and featured the charging, angsty-religious title track, the bass-led groovy build of “No Bibles” and the brooding electro-thump of “The Devil is Real.” As the Summer swelled I was reminded how great a writer Michelini is and how powerfully positive his writing can be. The second EP dips into almost humorous, romantic jazz with the title track and features the gorgeous acoustic ballad “Jackie” that laments “I will not likely see you in the morning, but I hope you’re not afraid to change your mind...” Finally EP#3 Hannah Future Tense swept in gloriously right before my sweltering Summer trips in my 30th birthday month of August. “Fireworks” was a song-of-the-summer contender with its killer acoustic drive and “All Night Diner” is a powerful, swelling song written to Michelini’s fiancee a few weeks before their wedding. The way he faces challenges and an uncertain future is emotional and super autobiographical. Upon releasing the three EP’s as a self titled full length, Michelini cemented himself as one of the most stellar songwriters doing it right now. Whatever name he chooses to release music under, his songs always seem to strike me at the right time and he has a positive lift to his writing that propels the songs forward with a heartfelt enthusiasm.
“I wanna taste blood, I wanna know what it is that I’m made of / No matter how it may have ever seemed in the fading light of my first love & every adolescent dream...”
ANTHONY D’AMATO / Cold Snap
The songs on Anthony D’Amato’s fourth studio album Cold Snap, are bright & crisp, with a cutting lyrical edge. Like Cassadaga-era Bright Eyes (gonna be hard not to mention Conor Oberst a few times here) he buries sharp little knives of political, personal, and religious fury in 3 minute bursts of power folk-pop. D’Amato has had the good fortune to work with a variety of talented (and some of my favorite) musicians. I first heard him through his New West Records Debut (2014′s The Shipwreck From The Shore) because he had recorded at The Great North Sound Society (where Josh Ritter recorded his 2007 masterpiece The Historical Conquests of...) with members of Ritter’s Royal City Band (Sam Kassirer!) and Bon Iver (don’t worry-you’ll hear tons more on Matt McCaughan and Brad Cook later). For Cold Snap D’Amato teams up with Mike Mogis (Bright Eyes again!) manages to get guest vocals from Oberst himself, and sounds like an artist comfortable in his own skin and really coming into his own.
I fell for lead single “Rain On A Strange Roof” almost as hard as the protagonist in the song is falling for someone. With it’s “ain’t in love but I’ll be there soon” perfectly worded feeling-capture, and “Sisyphus with an iPhone” weirdly spot-on metaphors, the couplets in this speedy Springsteen-wannabe...just work. Much like the other standout tracks it is catchy and immediately singable. D’Amato also takes a swing at Dylan with a few darker protest numbers in “If You’re Gonna Build A Wall” & “Blue Blooded” The former is a softer, foreboding warning to Trump America (complete with a Trump University music video) and the latter is a knockout punch or rock & roll aimed at those who take what they want from the earth without considering the consequences. All told, Cold Snap is a true singer-songwriter’s album and I’ve been singing along to most of these songs since early Summer.
“I showered in the Cascades where I dammed the Willamette / I set fire to the forest just to light my cigarette / All I crave is all I want / Is all you have is all you got / & all I take is all I need / The ground you walk the air you breathe / & I won’t stop no I won’t wait / ‘Til I get rich ‘til I get paid / ‘Til I got roots that clutch your dirt / That fuck your fields & gut your worth / I’m so blue blooded I never bruise...”
Oh man, Justin Vernon...OH MAN. If you would have told me last year at this time that I would be listening to a BRAND NEW BON IVER album all of Fall 2016, I would’ve called you crazy; but Wisconsin’s elusive, reclusive sample-folk master has emerged from hiding and blown us away again with yet another weird & wonderful masterpiece. The best part about 22, A Million to me, is that I got to be a part of experiencing so much of it’s release. When Vernon announced that his 2016 Eaux Claires set would consist of all new music, it seemed a slightly odd choice. He had played two new songs at Eaux Claires 2015 but it had been five years since anyone had heard new music from Bon Iver. Hearing the songs that make up 22 for the first time live, by a river with thousands of second-annual-friends was something close to spiritual and to this day I still prefer the youtube rip of that live performance to the recorded album.
From the opening vocally, vibratto-y hums of “22, Over Soon” this album is a journey. The industrial machine that chugs “10 (Death Breast)”’ along and the Woods Pt. 2 that is Vernon acappella stunning for the duration of “715 (Creeks)” are like nothing he has done before, but feel 100% at home in the Bon Iver discography. Highlights for me are the smooth evening drive of the country-ish “#29 Strafford Apts” the epic synth burn of “8 (Circle)” and of course the piano led, vocal effect laden heart drop/soar closer “1000000 (Million)” When Vernon played “1000000 (Million)” live with Sam Amidon on that Friday night in August, I felt like I had heard the song before, like it had always been there. Some strange, heart tug sort of deja vu that brought tears to my eyes. As Trevor Hagen (I’m with Hagen!) wrote “The answer has been here the entire time: just music, always.”
The story of 22 is all of ours. When I visited Eaux Claires 2015 I wrote about a shared experience. When Trevor Hagen (Justin’s old friend) wrote the bio for 22 he wrote “How can this be relevant to someone else? But Justin has managed to connect the most intimate, banal, & forgotten moments to many people. These moments are now shared widely & no longer belong only to us. But who owns a memory?” What 22 has given me, is that same feeling all my favorite records of my youth gave me...the chance to own a memory. I was there by that river, I was a part of it; and every time I hear these songs, I’m there...owning that memory. 22 reminded me how sacred music can be and as Hagen concludes “Music is made sacred between people & in return makes those relationships sacred.” Justin Vernon has taken places, people, time, & space, and melded them together in such a way as to freeze them all in motion. The music of 22, A Million is a river. It is here, it is immediate, but it is also everywhere. It is made up of everywhere. Samples from moments in Vernon’s life. Snapshots stretched and distorted till nearly unrecognizable and then recreated into something beautiful. Vernon has again made me listen to music differently, to consider the parts of the whole; and thus, to consider the parts of my whole, and who I am.
“What a river don’t know is / To climb out & heed a line / To slow among roses, or stay behind / I’ve been to that grove where no matter the source is / & walked it off how long I’d last / Sore ring to cope, whole band on the canyon / When the days have no numbers / Well it harms it harms me it harms, I’ll let it in...”
COURTNEY MARIE ANDREWS / Honest Life
Courtney Marie Andrews has the kind of voice you swear you’ve heard before. Even if you’re tuning in for the first time to this super-talented, 26 year-old singer songwriter from Arizona, you feel like her songs (and especially her worn, creaky, soft-but stronger than you’d think voice) have been with you for years. In fact, it’s hard for me to remember when or where I first heard Andrews. Was it through fellow Arizonians Jimmy Eat World (who she sang backup for on five songs on 2010′s critically underrated Invented)? Was it through the Gundersen family (Noah was on my 2014 Favorites list and siblings Abby & Jonny who sing with him also sing on Honest Life)? However I stumbled on the gem that is Andrew’s fifth studio album, I fell hard for her songs about love, heartbreak, & how to lead an honest life; and was blown away seeing her live at “the best funky dive in town” Denver’s iconic Lion’s Lair back in September.
Courtney’s lonely road songs are mournful with a classic, country soul (nearly every review I’ve read has compared her to Joni Mitchell) but it is her rolling, melodic, upbeat numbers, played with a killer band that set her apart. She opens with her mission statement, the grand, melodic premise that this career she’s building “ain’t no rookie dreaming,” but it is the bouncy sway of “Irene” (a song that encourages its subject to let her heart love “man, or woman, or anyone it wants”) that kickstarts Honest Life into it’s organ & pedal steel, rollicking country sound. From there “How Quickly Your Heart Mends” is the centerpiece of heartbreak and power before ballads swell out the rest of side B. Penultimate track “15 Highway Lines” drifts over a gently picked acoustic guitar and weaves highway analogies over melodies lifted from The Avett Brothers “I & Love & You.”
Andrews is a stellar songwriter and her road-worn lyrics conjure up someone twice her age. In the title track she wishes to learn “how to be honest, how to be wise, & how to be a good friend” but settles upon the conclusion that “I ain’t got nothing but time to WORK on living an honest life.” The word WORK has come up a lot in my conversations lately and it’s powerful to see people coming to the understanding (and encouraging others to do the same) that we have a lot of WORK left to do. That in order to change, in order to build ourselves into the people and lives we want, we are going to have to WORK at it. Andrews has been putting the work into music and her writing for the last eight years and Honest Life is an ethereally gorgeous, yet plainspoken & hard working album.
“I was a...you-will-never-see-me-again...too busy carrying the weight of everything / Young with nowhere to be, but you can’t get far for free / This ain’t no rookie dreaming / I was on the hunt for visions out of reach / All those daydreamin’ mornings...I am sitting all along on this train / I am a passenger to somewhere, I do not yet know the name / I am a 1960′s movie, I am an unwritten story / I am a...when-will-I-see-you-again?...”
FANTASTIC NEGRITO / The Last Days of Oakland
The narration that runs a thread through The Last Days of Oakland begins with “There’s good in the old Oakland. There’s good in the new Oakland...The seeds were planted long ago, let’s watch the tree grow...” From there Fantastic Negrito launches into a burning electric-organ-led, smooth slide of fury called “Working Poor” where he growls “I keep on knockin’ but I can’t get in.” It was the music of Oakland that first drew me in, these are songs that sound resurrected from long ago and the entire album absolutely burns with an old soul, blues, funk, punk fire. The guitar rages, the organ drives everything and turns these scary songs into danceable grooves. The drums & bass are menacing and Negrito cements everything with a voice that does it all. He growls, he yelps, he screams, he coos, he sings with the passion & youthful energy of someone half his age. With a life story as interesting as the songs, Fantastic Negrito is yet another reincarnation of the talent that is Xavier Dphrepaulezz. Raised Orthodox Muslim as the eighth of 14 kids in Massachusets with a Somali-Caribbean immigrant father who played traditional African music, Dphrepaulezz moved to Oakland at 12. He played in punk and funk bands through his twenties, and was involved in the Oakland and Los Angeles underground scene in the 90′s, until a nearly fatal car crash put him in a coma for three weeks and damaged his body beyond repair. Upon coming to, he started work on the songs that would become The Last Days of Oakland. Now when he’s not touring, he plays Beatles covers for his son on their farm in rural Oakland where he has chickens and grows vegetables.
Seeing him live at Lost Lake here in Denver a few months back was powerful, and even though I know there are songs on Oakland that aren’t written for me (or meant for me to sing in any way) the music is electric and I always feel welcome in the space. Negrito writes from a wise perspective and his songs are incisive social commentaries that I feel to be absolutely essential in our current political state. One of the biggest stepping stones in my musical education this year has been the responsibility of the listener to seek out artists from different backgrounds & perspectives (race, gender, age, religion, political leanings, sexual orientation, etc...) and it has been overwhelmingly rewarding (also challenging & problematic) to witness all of these artists using their art to process what they see happening in the world. If you need a place to start, start with Fantastic Negrito, & start with The Last Days of Oakland...
“I found me a woman, but she thinks too tall / I gave her every inch of my dream but she say it’s too small / She’s a really scary woman...”
Having seen nine of the 16 bands on this list live in 2016 (with two more to come in the next few months) it would be hard for me to say I had more fun at a show then I did at Hinds opening party at Lost Lake Lounge back in March. A fun filled sing/dance along with enough electric fuzz to turn heads, Hinds is one of those bands that seem to be having the time of their life every show. Having toured relentlessly all over the world before and after the release of their debut album Leave Me Alone, Hinds is simply a REALLY GOOD live band.
Formed in 2011 in Madrid, Spain, Hinds’ name is derived from the Spanish word for a female deer. Part garage rock, part surf rock, all around girl power rock & roll, Hinds write catchy lo-fi rock songs with empowering lyrics. Much the same as Kristian Mattson (Tallest Man on Earth) Hinds’ English-as-a-second-language lyric translations are endearing and often powerfully simple. They sing of “Fat Calmed Kiddos,” “Warts,” and “big cows.” and they don’t find it odd to sing “I will send your flowers back” or “I need you to be around my legs & stop complaining about the rain.” Having been five years in the making, Leave Me Alone feels almost like a greatest hits record and the twelve tracks are strong from start to finish. One of the moments I remember most from the night I saw Hinds at Lost Lake, was actually between sets, sitting on a doorstep in the snow on Monroe St. talking about women in music. I remember the excitement I felt as I realized how much incredible songwriting I may have been missing out on in my 20′s because I had too narrow a focus in pursuing/recognizing the importance of bands like Hinds. These four ladies have been outspoken about their roles as non-American feminist rock&rollers taking America by storm and trying to stir some things up in the process. They walk the line between having a good time and having something to say and they are definitely a band to watch out for in the next few years. Viva Hinds!
“I am swimming in the dark / Cause all your friends are sharks / Keep fighting for your truth / Amazing feelings juice...”
HISS GOLDEN MESSENGER / Heart Like A Levee
I first heard Hiss Golden Messenger through a work friend at my old job (Joe K. at Mile High Organics) and fell immediately for the songwriting and mysticism of Bad Debt. More on work friend Joe K. in a minute, but here it is six years later, and MC Taylor has a beast on his hands with what’s become of his Hiss Golden Messenger songwriting project. Mostly gone are the dark, little, guy-with-guitar folk songs; here they’ve been replaced by sprawling, country singalongs, bouncy horns, and some downright devilish electric blues numbers.
HGM is one of a spectacular trio of Durham bands on this years list (keep reading to get to Mount Moriah & Loamlands) and they swap and share players and intertwine into a gorgeous, guitar-y mish-mash. Taylor enlists the same Cook brothers (Loamlands, Megafaun, The Staves, Bon Iver, and solo stuff) the same Matt McCaughan on drums (Loamlands & Bon Iver) and the electric Josh Kaufman (from Josh Ritter’s Sermon On The Rocks, my #1 album last year). These guys sound tight, well rehearsed, and it is a small regret of mine that I left their killer show at the Bluebird here in Denver about six songs in to watch the Chicago Cubs win the world series back in October!
The songs on Heart Like A Levee are stories...quick snapshots, vignettes that feel like they needed to be told. Taylor is master writer, a wise wise lyricist, and he writes past, present, and future like an old soul. He tells stories about his children, traveling, home, and the passage of time. He captures little moments and stretches them out over years & years of feelings. This brings me back to my old work friend Joe K. Joe managed the refrigerated department at Mile High Organics and I was taking over for him in early Spring 2012. As he trained me, I took over his email. His email password, he explained, had been passed down to him from the previous refrigerated department manager (whose name I’ve long since forgotten) and he was passing it down to me. I’ve kept that password through the closing of one company, the start of another, and all the different positions I’ve held in between. I’ve told the story many times to many different people over the years but I’ve only ever told the password to a few. It’s a beautiful two word phrase (13 letters & damn hard to type) and I feel like it describes so much about the music I love, about art, about life. Anyway, the passage of time, the passing of secrets, the passing of...passwords, is what Heart Like A Levee is to me. There are lessons to be learned here, lessons Taylor has learned from his past and passes down to us, and there is a future written in these songs. A future where we all have lessons to learn and work to do.
“I’m watching your dark legs, flashing like some battlefield / Should I drown in that Atlanta rain? / Yes, babe-I can’t stand it...”
L.A. SALAMI / Dancing With Bad Grammar
The ease with which Lookman Adekuni Salami (stylized L.A. Salami) rolls through the 14 tracks on his electric debut album; hopping between ballads, rockers, blues, & soul, is polished & focused, and hints at both a musical backstory and a very promising future. The storytelling thread in Dancing With Bad Grammar is palpable & personal and allows Salami to expertly and openly explore poverty, religion, race, the working class, violence, mental health, and philosophy. He uses dictionary words, uncommon phrasing, and a wicked sense of humor to make these songs worth pulling out a lyric sheet (this blog isn’t titled linernotes... for nothing remember!) and diving in for multiple listens.
Dancing opens innocently (and good-coffee-morning-ly) enough, with the finger plucked acoustic guitar of “Going Mad As The Street Bins” but as soon as Salami’s thick British accent kicks in, throwing words like “dustbins, placentas, miffty, possums, & J. Dilla” the track is immediately interesting. From there it explodes, all crashing electric guitars and cymbals. Vocally & musically Salami channels a few modern artists as well as countless greats. I hear Marcus Mumford on “No Hallelujahs Now,” Brett Dennen on “Day To Day,” and he does an awesome Courtney Barnett on the vicious bridge of the jammy, off-kilter, bluesy first single “The City Nowadays.” Throughout Dancing Salami showcases a mastery of words, a driving acoustic playing style, and enough blues & soul to make this a true singer-songwriter’s album. He masterfully weaves gorgeous ballads (”& Bird” & ”I Can’t Slow Her Down”) with fierce, fast paced social commentaries (”I Wear This Because Life is War!” & “Loosely On My Mind”) all the while making the songs feel decidedly his. It is in the plaintive, playful lilt of personal favorites “Day To Day (For 6 Days a Week)” and “Aristotle Ponders The Sound” where Lookman’s serious, sardonic, and silly songwriting style sounds like Dylan, Cohen, or Zevon filtered through the educated eyes of a black, British kid. Dancing With Bad Grammar is not to be missed. Equal parts fun, socially conscious, and fiercely frightening; it is an album that is important this year and Salami is a songwriter you will be hearing about for years to come.
“To trick-reap the lands for other’s gains / Now money maintains the way in which they suffered / Which once was clear a row of arms in chains, now appear as nothing changed / Restrained by wages the sovereign slaves wage war on each other / & as the suits & sullied saints taint the buck that Lady Luck struck with a hunter armed with hunger...”
LOAMLANDS / Sweet High Rise
Sweet High Rise is the rare debut album that stands as a mission statement, a time-capsule work, and a politically charged mega-important protest record. Kym Register has been a fixture in the Durham, NC fringe scene for years (fronting Midtown Dickens and running The Pin Hook bar/venue) and describes Loamlands as “a musical endeavor aimed at telling stories of being from the South through present day queer caucasian eyes.” Register’s singular voice runs like a ramrod through the entirety of High Rise. Deeply personal but built on centuries of history in Durham, NC, this record serves as a marker for where a person and city stand at a specific time. “Little River” tells the story of Ronald Antonevitch who was murdered in 1981 at a popular gay swimming hole on Little River. This event is credited with starting the first gay pride marches in North Carolina. “Get Ready” deals with the police brutality going on right now and the one minute thirty-two second title track talks about gentrification over one of the sweetest little guitar riffs you’ll hear all year.
Musically, Register enlists the help of some of my favorite, uber talented crew from NC. With the Cook brothers and Matt McCaughan (if you’ve been paying attentiona you already know all about them) on rhythm and keys, High Rise is tight and roaring. Register’s guitar tones blaze with ferocity but just as quickly drop into steady, rolling marching rhythms, matched to the feet of ancient & current protestors. Call it alt-country, call it folk-punk, call it good old fashion rock&roll, Kym Register has made a statement with this one and everyone would do well to tune in and really listen. In a year where I personally have been challenged to use my privilege and to figure out how to use where I’m at to help...I absolutely love how many musicians are putting their hearts & souls into autobiographical masterpieces to use whatever privilege & stature they may have with their place in music to speak out and help. Sweet High Rise is an strong album that will be looked back at for years as a marker, a mission statement, and a snapshot of our times.
“Don’t you trust that story that you read on the news / It will take you miles & miles & miles away from the truth / But I hope you’re right now / I hope a change comes soon...”
When I saw Lucy Dacus on a whim at Denver’s Lost Lake Lounge last March I only knew a few of her songs. I had heard the awesomely titled “Troublemaker Doppelganger” on a mix from my music friend Adam of songsfortheday (sandwiching that and Mount Moriah’s “Calvander” around Sturgill Simpson was perfect) and I went by myself on a freezing night. There were probably 20 people there and Dacus and her stellar band blew me away on her first ever tour stop in Colorado. Much of No Burden (her rereleased debut album on Matador Records) burns with a brooding intensity, fiery tongue-in-cheek wit, and electric strums low enough to match Dacus’ throbbing, meandering voice.
Dacus’ songs are personal and varied, written about friends & loved ones. She mixes romantic relationship songs with great platonic (gasp!) relationship songs and humorous (although she doesn’t wanna’ be funny anymore) songs. Having been adopted at a young age, Dacus somewhat dryly remarks that “From infancy I was taught that life was innately worthwhile because a bunch of people had worked together to give me one!” This idea informs all her songwriting and her debut is wonderful not just for the wisdom she imparts in only nine songs, but for the potential she has a lyricist & musician. Musically, Dacus’ band is precise and beefy, backing up her glinting songs with surprisingly heavy drums, jagged guitar, and in the few times they cut loose (and especially live) they really know how to rock out. It’s hard to believe that the entire album was recorded in one day, but knowing that gives the album a chronological, journal journey feel. The way Dacus bookends both sides of No Burden with the ellipsed “Dream State...” & “Familiar Place” and the line “Without you I’m surely the last of our kind...” is perfect, & this record is definitely one to listen to front to back in one sitting. I can’t wait to see where she goes with her next album and her already blossoming career.
“Send my regards to the North my friends / I am built for the heat I regret to admit / My fear of freezing keeps me on my feet & so far my whole life’s one long lucky streak...”
MARGARET GLASPY / Emotions & Math
If this were a “best of” 2016 list, Margaret Glaspy’s Emotions & Math would be #1. As far as favorites go, Bon Iver might have an unfair advantage/corner of my heart, but Glaspy’s debut full length is brilliant start to finish and definitely one of my most recommended listens. Seeing Glaspy open solo for Mount Moriah back in April, I was blown away by her guitar talent and the way her voice seemed to jump from effortlessly innocent to calculatedly cruel. The strength of E&M is that it highlights her myriad talents while still sounding cohesive and powerful. Glaspy is an incredible songwriter (most of these tracks could/should be singles), a better guitarist than most I’ve seen, and she weaponizes her voice with versatility & ease.
Emotions & Math is the rare, perfectly named record. Most of these precisely written songs find Glaspy calculating equations of heartbreak, anger, freedom, bittersweet regret, understanding, and learning how to move on. She deals with all these emotions in interesting and focused ways, and her guitar and vocals echo her heart & brain with a thorny, fiery, fierce passion that is 100% palpable in all her songs. A true songwriter’s songwriter, Glaspy covers two songs live (Ms Lauryn Hill’s “Ex-Factor” & Lucinda Williams’ “Fruits of my Labor”) and wholeheartedly appreciates the intricate intertwinings of great songs. From the hesitant pride of the title track (”I’m a skinny mess that’s breathless from telling you all of the things that I’m gonna do”) to the defiant rage echoed by her guitar in “Situation” (”I’m not gonna sleep in anybody’s shade”) Glaspy lets each song be itself and they are all 100% her. She has fleshed out her sound with a full band but her guitar skill stands alone, front & center. When she slows down and gets moodier like in the challenge-yourself anthem “Black is Blue” & the brutal break up brood of “Memory Street” her writing is powerful & immediate. This is one of the most personal & important lyrical collections on this list and luckily...Glaspy backs it up with equally impressive electric guitar and truly breathtaking songwriting.
“I’m a little rock on a big mountain / Nobody’s calling my name, nobody’s paying me mind / I’m a little drop from a big fountain / Oh I blend in & that’s fine / & my sister, she is gonna die trying / With her heart ablaze & a fighting song / Not me, I’ll be a dandelion / Ooh give a gust of wind & I’m gone...”
MOUNT MORIAH / How To Dance
One of my most listened-to albums of the year, Mount Moriah have created a complete collection of songs that take the listener on a journey through North Carolina’s landmarks, highways, and counties. How To Dance will leave you feeling like you’ve just taken a road trip through their home state. While the other two spectacular musicians from Durham on this list (Loamlands & Hiss Golden Messenger) focus on looking at the people & history of their great city & state, How To Dance reads more like a topographical map. Listing specific places like Calvander (rural, unincorporated community along old NC HWY 86), Carteret County, Bogue Banks, Newport River, Fish Dam Road, HWY 15, 501, Oceanana Pier, I-95, and these are just the ones in North Carolina!
Musically, Heather McEntire has given in to her Southern roots (she spent years fronting the post-punk band Bellafea) and How To Dance burns with electric guitar and slowed down grooves. The speedier tracks like “Chiron” & “Cardinal Cross” have McIntire belting like a country-er Stevie Nicks, but when she slows it down and breaks hearts on “Davis Square” and the title track, she goes full-on Bonnie Raitt. The instrumental outro to closer “Little Bear” is reminiscent of Loamlands doing the same thing with “Get Ready” to close out their sister album Sweet High Rise. The guest list on Dance is impressive with McEntire singing with Angel Olsen on the pulsing “Precita,” Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls on personal favorite “Higher Mind,” and Mirah Zeitlan on the sticky sweet “Baby Blue.”
Songs about places have always had a special -ahem- place in my heart (Mat Kearney & Springsteen made me make a whole MIX about places) and McEntire’s songs burn with a desire to mark time & place. These are songs written by someone who is proud of where she came from and wants the listener to experience a small taste of it through her music. Songs like that only work with a capable hand and McEntire has a masterpiece on her hands with Mount Moriah’s third full-length album.
“You used to sing to me in sweet half tone, caramel eyes soft as honeycomb / Striking iron & turning coal, middle of summer in your overalls / Macon, Georgia, Roanoke, Crooked River 15-501 / We all got vices cuz the pain still flows / We all got things we’re afraid to show / I meet my maker in the yellow mounds & I listened for the astral sounds / I meet my maker in the desert & I begged for a heavy lesson...”
Pinegrove won me over (and won the hotly contested last band chosen for this list) not with their album but with their live show. A fan favorite (borderline cult band) this year, I caught Pinegrove at the tiny Marquis Theater opening for Kevin Devine (Kevin I love Instigator but this year is for the kids!) The election was 11 days old and the world was changing. Pinegrove made a point to take a minute in their set to talk about what we could do in these times and they spoke of choosing your friends wisely, challenging those around you with tough conversations, and using your privilege to talk to people about stuff that matters. In a way, all the words they said live echoed what their album says, but it was super meaningful to me at the time. They also have made a point to verbally acknowledge from the stage that “Black lives matter. Muslim lives matter. Queer lives matter.”
Pinegrove is from New Jersey and Cardinal is their second full length album (along with numerous EPs) and their first major label release. Cardinal is interesting in that it combines the best elements of alt-country, late 90′s rock, emo revival, and indie hipster dad rock, to create something that sounds fresh, exciting, & immediate. The lyrics here are conversations; disjointed & disconnected, full of big words, awkward words, but consistently catchy as hell. These snapshots are moments (music marks time & place remember?) and they are handled simultaneously carefully & carelessly. In “Size of The Moon” they recount “Do you remember in your living room when we made some room & moved ourselves around in it?” and in “Old Friends” they remember “Walking out in the nighttime Springtime, needling my way home.” Backed by rhythmic, uplifting guitar, the songs sound bright and airy, even while tinged with tangible amounts of backyard regrets. Under it all, the eight tracks on Cardinal challenge and push themselves (and the listener) to listen...to be better. This is an album of hard work, but it’s not afraid to revel in its moments, because as we mark those times, we also mark growth. Pinegrove looks forward to a brighter future and their songs viscerally feel brighter and heavier every time the seasons turn.
“Would you like a drink while we wait for everything to get good again? / We’re good at things & so are a lot of our friends / We should forget these setbacks & get back moving again / ...I wanna visit the future & dance in a field of light...”
One of my favorite surprises of late 2016 came through my radio speakers as I was parking my car a couple blocks off Colfax on a frosty November night. My favorite Denver radio station OpenAir was blasting an in-studio session from Shreveport, Louisiana’s Seratones and the guitar grabbed my attention immediately. Crunchy & heavy, while still feeling light & bouncy, Seratones shred through upbeat soul and rock numbers like Alabama Shakes or Black Keys (who are signed to the same Fat Possum records), but have a decidedly Southern sound. I started my car back up, drove down to Twist & Shout Records and bought Seratones blistering debut Get Gone.
The first and second tracks are fiery barn burners that find lead singer AJ Haynes throwing her voice every which way and her yelps & howls are immediately electric and endearing. Haynes grew up singing at Brownsville Baptist Church since age 6 and her vocals jump easily between sweet falsettos and throaty yells. She croons all Amy Winehouse-y over minor chords in “Tied” and the title track, and gorgeous closer “Keep Me” sounds like Jefferson Airplane smoking weed with Florence Welch. Throughout their poised debut, Seratones (the name is derived from the Spanish word “cera” which refers to the term “put it on wax” or “record to vinyl” and they changed the c to an s to resemble Seratonin) sound confidant, focused, and downright jamming fun. Haynes drives the songs with her vocals and she drives the band as an outspoken leader; speaking up about safe spaces at shows and working with/setting examples for women young & old. She is a real star and I can’t wait to see what’s on the horizon for this new band.
“Sun’s going down like you know it would / I’m trouble-bound coming through the wood / Come hold me down it’ll do you good.”
YOU WON’T / Revolutionaries
You Won’t’s sophomore album is a frantic frolic through raw rollicking guitars, every weird rhythmic instrument you can think of, and head turning lyrics about doucheys, buttocks, Jesus & trampolines. Sounding decidedly Massachusets-y (is it the bagpipes and time-period costumes?) and with more than subtle hints of Paul Simon, Bob Dylan, Conor Oberst, and Warren Zevon, Revolutionaries is a tight-knit batch of songs that thrusts its arms wide and isn’t afraid to crack a smile or bust out a belly laugh.
The fact that this duo of Josh Arnoudse and Raky Sastri met as fencing partners in a high school take on a Broadway play in itself sounds like lyrics from a You Won’t B-side. Revolutionaries sounds far grander and fuller than you would expect from a duo (and a self produced album!) and most of the power comes from Arnoudse’s driving acoustic playing. Similar to my #1 Favorite album from last year (Josh Ritter’s magical Sermon On The Rocks) it was the first few singles from Revolutionaries that hit me dead on. “Ya Ya Ya” came first with all its makeup, powdered wigs, rubber chickens, and warehouse ballet sequence?! (is that you kanye? Is this “Runaway”?) Next came the breakneck “No Divide” with its equally epic, glorious Elvis-with-horn-playing-monkeys good time of a video. These are dance numbers that will have you spinning round your kitchen belting out “you’re free to make your choices and free to question mine!” The rest of Revolutionaries holds up as consistent, cohesive, and weirdly wise. You Won’t is one of those fun bands who stay off social media, don’t tour a ton, only release music when they want, and seem to have a total blast doing what they do. Amid a lot of serious and important albums on this list, this one isn’t afraid to laugh at itself (”I broke a window with my buttocks but my buttocks were just fine!”) and it’s downright danceable fun from start to finish.
“She was a young girl in motion / Another ripple in the ocean / Gathering up all of her force into a wave / Another year or four / She was tearing up the floor & / Tearing down anyone that tore into her way...”