Bandcamp Crate Digging: Cortez is a Killer

There are songs that are over played via radio (back when that was a thing) or pop culture. And then there are songs that are overplayed via covers – we all know the tired trope of “Freebird” requests from a crowd, or how about that classic Wayne’s World denial. But if you go back to traditional jazz, blues, bluegrass, or gospel, the idea of certain songs becoming “standards” is common and widely accepted. Beyond this being a more accepted part of certain genres, I think there’s something to the idea that some songs are not just beautifully written, but they have a fundamental structure that makes them a willing palette for others to build off of or dig deeper into.

I’m not a very good Neil Young fan. His impact on music is undeniable and I have huge respect for his music and his vision. However, I’ve never really been sucked into all of his music. I think that adds a certain layer of magic into how “Cortez the Killer” became one of my favorite songs, and a song that can easily be argued as one of the few accepted rock “standards.”

I know I heard the Neil Young version on classic rock stations growing up, although probably not very much given it’s non-radio-friendly format. But of course (obvious for those who know my music history) it’s the 20-minute Built to Spill version that generated my love for this song and put it into my pantheon of real classics. Since then, my ears have remained tuned to the sound of that opening guitar riff, always interested to hear a new artist’s take- and why I got excited when I saw Squirrel Flower recently dropped a live cover. (All covers have to be done live, it’s a rule. I’m not sure where this rule is written down, or who enforces it, but I’m in full agreement.)

So, in honor of another great version being added to the tome of Cortez, I thought I’d share that track along with a few of my other favorite interpretations.

Unburied Treasures: Necks

I’ve struggled to start this post because I felt the urge to somehow start the conversation by getting into the definition of jazz. There’s the general agreement that jazz is characterized by swing rhythms, blues chords, syncopation, and improvisation. And of course, like with any rule, there are debates about the definitions and exceptions so it all quickly gets into an area where my knowledge is much more “arm chair” quality than real expert.

An interesting trend for me though, is that while I’ve been a lover of traditional jazz since my high school band-nerd days, in the last couple decades I’ve been drawn to sounds that blur the boundaries of jazz or mix it’s elements outside the lines. This can be treacherous territory as I feel most things labeled “jazz fusion” trigger a fight or flight response. However, when done with craft and taste (Is this a characteristic of good art? Combining components into something that balances on the knife edge of emotional resonance when it could have instead easily slipped into overwrought, trite, or vapid?) I find the result is music with subdued but powerful energy.

This leads me to The Necks. A trio from Australia that were unknown to me until I stumbled onto their 2023 release while combing Bandcamp last year. I’ve read descriptions of their music that reference ambient, jazz, rock, or even contemporary classical – but usually followed by some version of unclassifiable. Their music is not structured around regular “songs” – instead they perform pieces that are typically 20 – 60 min in length. There’s definitely syncopation, and sometimes dashes of swing, chord complexity, but it’s the improvisation that is central to this music. It seems that each piece starts with a foundation of repeated structure, laid down by one of the three musicians, and from there they organically build a unique collaboration as we listen. Each each piece has a constant threw line that we can hold on to for grounding while the rest of the music pulses out, crashes about, ebbs and flows in unpredictable ways. From this masterful partnership, they generate an energy (like great jazz) that I find mesmerizing.

Unburied Treasures: Indie-Pop in the Night

I don’t listen to much “pop” music these days. You could say I haven’t listened to much pop music since I was thirteen. But that again, that can get a bit debatable because just like any genre, the boundaries get blurry real quick. In our struggle to put understandable descriptions on an ever changing spectrum of blended music, we end up using various hyphenated forms of “pop” to label all kinds of sub-genres as well, some of which I do frequent in. Where’s the line between pure “pop” and indie-pop, or pop-punk, or electro-pop, or dance-pop?

That all said, I wasn’t thinking about genre labels when I walked into Polaris Hall and heard this unfamiliar opening act from LA called Night Talks. Instead, I was just instantly hooked on the infectious melodies and the blazing charisma of lead singer, Soraya Sebghati. Part of it may be the 80’s influence hitting my nostalgia triggers, but it’s still incredibly catchy song writing. I’ll call it indie-pop, you can call it whatever you like, but either way it’s just fun music I don’t want to put away.

Love is the Fing!

I don’t generally like to preview my best of the year picks but it’s hard to not talk about IDLES. In the last six years they’ve put out a string of exceptional albums that culminated with this year’s release, TANGK. I’m confident it will rank high on my end of year list. But it’s not just the music – they are a band that wears their heart on their sleeve, putting so much genuine emotion into everything they do. Which is why I was so excited to finally see them live – and while the show was a bit rough for the band (frontman Joe Talbot was fighting illness and significant monitor issues) it made the intensity and heartfelt abandon of their performance that much more powerful.

Treefort Finds – 2024

Despite five days of freezing temperatures and very little sleep, I had a great time at the Treefort Music Festival last year so I decided I’d head back again for 2024. Fortunately, the weather cooperated quite a bit better this year, I also managed my sleep schedule better (i.e. I didn’t make early morning plans each day I was there) and I had another fun experience.

Neko Case was the headliner for the first day of the festival, and while I’ve seen her perform a dozen times or so, I certainly wasn’t going to miss that. There were also a number of amazing performances from artists I was already familiar with but had never had the chance to see live before: Mary Timony, CMAT, Pokey Laforge, zzzahara, and Ryan Curtis. But like I did with my post last year, I’m going to highlight the standout moments that came from artists I heard at the festival who were brand new to me.

Patrick Watson and the Boise Philharmonic – Patrick Watson is an artist who I might have actually heard before but he hadn’t ever crossed my path in a way I remember. (Like jobs and personal relationships, I guess connecting with music can be a lot about ‘the right time and the right place.’) On Saturday, the forth day of the festival, the weather had turned colder and I had a moment of lethargy where the idea of hoofing it 5 blocks to catch an act seemed less appealing than a nice, comfy chair inside somewhere warm. So, I headed to the Morrison Center on the Boise State University campus to see this performance I really didn’t know anything about… which is the perfect setup for an amazing experience. On his own, Watson’s music often has a melancholic, dream-like quality. Paired with an orchestra, the beautiful lighting of the Morrison Center stage (and even some ballet dancers), the experience was magical.

Cassandra Lewis – While it seems that she’s moved around quite a bit in her life, Cassandra Lewis has ties to Idaho and her mom was sitting stage-side during this packed performance at the The Shrine Social Club which lead to several touching moments during her performance. It also turned out that Lewis was celebrating having just signed a record deal with a soon to come release. This seems like well deserved recognition for a powerful voice that is made for bringing the best out of a country song. By the way, I have to share the video Lewis did for her track “Darlin.” Shot at a downtown Portland landmark, it’s an incredible example of what can come from the blending of cultures (and countercultures).

The Kindness and Sam True – The Kindness is a three-piece jazz group based in the Boise area. Lately, I’ve bee listening to a lot more jazz and particularly drawn to more minimalist styles (something I’ll probably focus on in another post coming up) so stopping in to see this group felt like an obvious choice for me – and the band was great. But my single biggest highlight of the entire festival came at the close of their set when they brought out a guest vocalist from Boise, Sam Tru, and did a cover of Kharma Police. I wish I had video of this performance that I could share but (thankfully) I was so transfixed in the moment that I didn’t think to distract myself with my phone. It was an incredible version of a modern-day rock classic that both simplified the song to it’s essential core and then exploded out into improvised jazz energy.

Sistemes Inestables – At the end of The Kindness performance I struck up a conversation with a guy from San Francisco who turned out to be a drummer and drum teacher. We got talking music (and drumming) and he told me I had to stay for the next band. (I found out later that this 3-piece band from Chile was a group one of my drum teacher’s back in Portland knew as well.) Unfortunately, I don’t think their recorded works capture the full energy of the live performance but what followed was an enthralling fusion of ambient, prog-rock, and electronica that built into an intense soundscape. I looked across the venue and I could see every person was sucked in as the band created layers of melodic repetition only to be blown apart in explosive bursts.

The Schizophonics – It’s late on your second (or is it third?) night of the festival. You’re some number of beers in and you’re starting to come down from the rush of that last great band you just saw. But you step into another venue to see what’s going on and are confronted by the most hyperactive, high-energy frontman you’ve ever seen. Distorted fuzz rock pounds away as the singer careens back and forth across the stage, somehow playing his guitar parts with just one hand, and then proceeds to literally perform while standing on his head. This is rock and roll.

The Best Songs of 2023

Since this year’s favorite album post got a bit wordy, I’ll try to keep my intro here short but I do want to comment on a couple things. When I compiled this songs list, I noticed it was dominated by indie-rock and country, unlike my favorite albums list which had more diversity than usual. Part of any difference in the lists is a bi-product of my self-defined rule that I can’t highlight any artists on this songs list that were already covered in my favorite albums. But I think this particular difference may be a reflection of my personal listening habits and what I look for in albums versus songs. I still listen to most of my music in album form, selecting something and listening from Track 1 to the end. These albums are like meals for me, and I look for something that’s complex and has layers, that fit a mood or complete a setting. Individual songs though, they are like pieces of candy. I put them in a playlist like an assortment of varied chocolates (cue the obligatory Forest Gump quote) and often pick whatever strikes my fancy at a given moment, looking for some kind of immediate “fix.” Because of personal biases honed from the music of my formative years, I think these familiar genres of indie-rock, punk, (alt)country, and folk are where I’m more likely to look for that quick, easy, “candy” rush.

So, to wrap up my end of year review, I hope you find something sweet in this assortment of songs and I wish you plenty of musical nourishment in 2024.

1. “Doing It” by Wimps
I loved the new album from this insanely charming Seattle based punk trio and came very close to listing it in my top 20. The entire album is full of simple takes on middle aged life, delivered with dry wit. This is what “grown up punk” sounds like and this is the song I kept going to most – an anthem for all of us (or maybe just me?) who are improvising (faking?) our way through adulthood.

2. “Keep It On a Burner” by Margo Cilker
Cilker hails from the rural outreaches of the Columbia Gorge but Portland serves as a kind of secondary hometown and I saw her perform at a small venue there for the final night of two sold-out shows celebrating her album release. The genuine, heartfelt nature of her music was obvious and certainly infected everyone in the crowd. On that night, the sing-along nature of the chorus in this country slow-groove had everyone swept up in full voice and I think the recorded version gives a wonderful peak into the magic she has.

3. “fuck george lucas” by Steel Tipped Dove & alaska_atoms
It’s not easy to figure out who the rapper Alaska (a.k.a. alaska_atoms) is. I had no idea when I first heard his music. But I wasn’t surprised to learn of his association with a hip-hop collective called Atoms Family and through that his connection to folks like Vast Aire, Vordul Mega, Cryptic One, El-P, and Aesop Rock. Alaska channels a very similar ethos and in this track he lays down a scathing rebuke of our culture’s over romanticized notions of self importance. And it ends with what I’d vote for as the best closing line of any song in 2023.

4. “Kristine From the 7th Grade” by Ben Folds
In his late twenties and early thirties, Ben Folds brought his lyrical talent to bear on charismatic nerd-rock that spoke very directly to the young me. Now in his 50’s, he delivers this beautifully constructed piece as if he could be the heir to Randy Newman. The picture he creates through this message to a character from his past is one that precisely captures an all-to-well known phenomenon specific to our current time and the social media shit-storm we live in. While that may have a certain gratification on it’s own, what makes this song work so well is how Folds points out the brutal faults of his subject while also showing understanding and compassion – a combination that takes what could have felt snarky or cold, and instead makes it earnest and warm.

5. “Love Is a Place” by Jaime Wyatt
I loved Wyatt’s 2020 album Neon Cross and had been anticipating her second release ever since. When it finally came this year it was immediately clear her music had evolved and I think it’s wonderfully captured in this standout track. Still country, but her sound has shifted from 70’s honkytonk twang to 70’s Muscle Shoals soul. Lyrically, there’s still some heartbreak (cause ya can’t have country music without it) but it’s now balanced with some love and redemption.

6. “Puppy and a Truck” by Jenny Lewis
I’ll admit I had momentary doubts based on the Jimmy Buffet-esque vibe (including margarita reference), but this song quite likely has the most charming opening verse of any song in 2023 – and yes, some very sage life advice as well.

7. “In Your Love” by Tyler Childers
I might be initially biased towards any album whose artwork has the artist posing with a mule, but once again Childers delivers (“like a team of mules”) with relatively simple, earnest song writing. Oh, and in classic Childers fashion he makes sure to blow open the cultural norms of what might otherwise be looked at as conventional country music – this time with the associated music video.

8. “When You Say” by FACS
Relentless drum groove, growling guitar riff. If you were a character in a movie and you heard the first few bars of this song drop (‘cause that’s how it works if you’re a character in a movie, right? The soundtrack is plays from magical speakers overhead in whatever world the characters are in, right?) you know some bad shit’s about to happen. (By the way, this is one of the songs that directly influenced my recent decision to buy a drum set.)

9. “TWO DAYS” by Killer Mike
Killer Mike is a viciously smart rapper whose power is served best when paired with sardonic humor (a la the deft touch of El-P) or in this case a soulful 70’s-era groove via Ty Dolla $ign.

10: “Gotoku Lemon” by TEKE::TEKE
I’d never heard of TEKE::TEKE until I was stage-side in Idaho at a Treefort outdoor amphitheater. Here was this seven piece, psychedelic fusion band from Japan (with a lead flute!) playing on a freezing cold evening in early spring. I looked out at the audience standing on a field of mud and ice, a biting wind swirling about, and every face wore a smile, every booty was moving to the music.

11. “Topography” by Libby Rodenbough
This track shows why decisions in composition and production should not be taken for granted. A sparse opening, just Rodenbough’s voice and piano. Her vocals are recorded naturally and so close they sound as if she’s crooning into your ear. The piano muffled as if from the opposite side of a large room, yet somehow simultaneously clear enough we can hear the hammers and inner workings of the instrument itself. More than half way in, a simple horn sound joins from far down the hallway. With the final verse, strings swell to fill the space in between. Then as Rodenbough utters the final word of the piece, “Stay…” the composition pieces die away. A masterclass for showing how intelligently choosing less can make for so much more.

12. “Eraser” by Sweeping Promises
Discordant anthem from a punk duo based out of Kansas but sounding more like something heard out of 1970’s era CBGB.

13. “Codependent Heart” by Ryan Curtis
I’m sorry about whatever amount of smoking, hard drinking, and/or harsh living Ryan Curtis went through that resulted in his thrashed vocal cords, but damn – you mix that gravely voice with some country twang and a bit of heartbreak and I’m sold. (Also worth a special note, Curtis hails from Boise so look for him playing events around the PNW.)

14. “Harmless Activity” by R.M.F.C.
There should be a subgenre of music called Speeding Ticket Rock (other examples being “The House That Heaven Built” by Japandroids, “S.T.H.D.” by Ladyhawk, “I Can’t Drive 55” by Sammy Hagar). With the beat of the drum groove sitting just behind the rhythmic guitar riff, this song generates a sense of drive, a sense of forward momentum, that makes my gas foot immediately push for the floor. (Have I mentioned that some of these songs forced me to buy a drum set?)

15. “Amy Timers” by Gaadge
Every time I hear this song start up I think I’m listening to a 90’s Sebadoah album.

The Best Albums of 2023

At the end of 2022 I made a goal of opening myself up to a broader range of new music. I had started to feel like I was in a bit of a rut, finding most of my new music from the same handful of sources, with a rotating set of the same artists filling much of my list every year. Thanks to the internet, the world of music has become vast and segmented, so we are often stuck on just its surface. I wanted to look deeper but needed inspiration and direction. It came from Lars Gotrich, a contributor at NPR Music, who had spoken on several podcasts about his love of Bandcamp and how it was his go-to source for new music, particularly of the overlooked, under-appreciated, and further afield. So I took that as my challenge and decided I’d do my best to scour the vast depths of Bandcamp this year, spending what some would probably call a ludicrous amount of time surfing the site, sampling hundreds of albums, following one link to another to another, and browsing through endless categories of sub-genres. 

Was it worth this new focus and all the time? I believe so, as any time spent finding new music that you love is well spent time. Even the time spent on music I didn’t love was time that helped me grow my awareness of the world and what is being created in it – including some pretty crazy shit!

Sitting down to compile this end of year list, I could see the overall effect as well. I had accumulated a much larger list of “good stuff” to pull from with a more diverse range of music. Because of this, my top choices were not as clear – I had a much stronger sense of comparing “apples to oranges,” so how could I define an overall favorite? I also suspect that some of this increased diversity (or in some cases niche quality) may result in a set of recommendations that aren’t as easily approachable for my friends and family. I’ve never expected to build a list that would be entirely to everyone’s liking – that wasn’t the goal – but the hope has always been to provide a sampling of wonderful music where almost anyone could find something that captivates them. I still believe that’s here, but we’ll have to see. 

One last thing I want to acknowledge is a common through-line in my recent listening habits. It hasn’t been a conscious thing, but doing this review it became hard to deny that my music choices weren’t being influenced by a certain force: my midlife crisis. I mean, I wouldn’t say that it’s really a crisis, but the looming plunge into 50 might have gotten me thinking a bit (or a lot). My musical tastes are largely determined by melody, timbre, and rhythm, but lyrics can play a big part at times and my picks for this year (and some might remember last year as well) are littered with touches of existentialism, impermanence, futility, and mortality. But hey, it’s all in the context of beautiful music and having a good time!

With that said, I hope you have a good time poking around through this list of albums and the soon to drop list of songs. Let me know if you find something you love, or share a new favorite you found this year – it’s one of the best gifts you can give. 

1. HELLMODE, Jeff Rosenstock
I would really like to be friends with Jeff Rosenstock, although I’m sure he already has plenty. I imagine he’s perpetually surrounded by a self-generated worthwind of good natured chaos. From New York and anxious by nature, I bet he’s the kind of person who won’t hesitate to call you out, might frequently leave you worried about what’s going to happen next, yet always make you feel welcome and embraced. [Note: This characterization is heavily influenced by early Rosenstock music, full of party anthems and antics. Now in his 40’s, I fully expect this to be intermixed with the realities of fatherhood, career, and adult stuff.] Rosenstock hit my radar with his 2016 release WORRY. and his 2018 album POST- was on my top 10 list that year. I think HELLMODE is easily his best work so far. This is still… punk music? Pop-punk? Garage-punk? Party-post-punk? (Now that I say that, I’d venture if you somehow took a heavily over-caffeinated Ian MacKaye of Fugazi and turned him into a much happier person, you would probably get this same album. Wait, has anyone actually ever seen MacKaye and Rosenstock in the same room at the same time?) HELLMODE has all the same Rosenstock charisma, the same fiercely independent DIY approach, the same call-to-arms vibe (with anthemic verses and a chorus of voices shouting along to various parts), the same SCREAM IN ALL CAPS approach. But here he’s turned down the manic nature of the music just a touch and found a precarious balance point between authenticity and approachability. Beyond all that, what this album has is something that connects directly for me – a giddy recognition of mid-life drudgery and inevitable mortality. (I warned you about a through-line…) In the 90 second long track “HEAD,” the message can be self-eviscerating: “Currently it’s obvious there are no fair elections / There is no constitution and there is no bill of rights / And if you gather in the streets to demonstrate objections / They’ll beat you with a club and whisk you off into the night / …And I don’t wanna think about it anymore / And it feels okay / But that doesn’t make it stop.” In the quiet/loud build up of “DOUBT,” it can be a form of self care: “I don’t know how to scrape off the dog shit that’s stuck on the heart of the fuckin’ world / How to cut loose the doom that’s been screwed to the roof of your fuckin’ skull / How to make life the kind where you don’t die regretting what you haven’t done / You gotta chill out with the doubt, the doubt, the doubt / You gotta cool it with the doubt.” And in my favorite track “THE FUTURE IS DUMB, Rosenstock channels some kind of punk-buddhist mantra: “So what if you die / So what if you don’t die / So what if you realize that we ran out of time / ‘Cause the world doesn’t owe you / The world doesn’t owe you / The world doesn’t owe you a thing.”

2. Lush Life, The Belair Lip Bombs
I don’t know what’s going on in the South Pacific but over the last 7 or 8 years Australia and New Zealand have started putting out a vastly disproportionate amount of the world’s best rock music. You could argue Courtney Barnett launched things onto a new level with 2015’s Sometimes I Sit and Think, Sometimes I Just Sit. Fast forward to 2023 and every time I turn around I’m stumbling onto a new favorite release that just happens to come from down under with artists such as Carla Geneve, Angie McMahon, RVG, Split System, Julia Jacklin, and ZOJ, just to name a few. While there’s certainly diversity within this music scene, there seems to be some common trends towards post punk, jangly indie-pop, and strong female voices.All three come together with The Belair LipBombs, a Melbourne band fronted by Maisie Everett who’s applied some of the energy from her former post-punk band CLAMM to this new project that’s full of jangly guitars and melodic hooks heavy with 80’s and 90’s influences.

3. Turbulence and Pulse, Asher Gameze
As a kid who grew up playing the saxophone my early jazz idols were Coltrane, Parker, and as I got further into jazz, Lester Young. Once I stopped playing the sax myself, I started listening less as a wanna-be and more as a simple appreciator. I think that’s when I developed my awe of the great jazz drummers and Max Roach became my new jazz icon. I may still carry a soft spot for the saxophone, but I now find drumming is often what separates good jazz from great jazz and it’s certainly what first drew me into Turbulence and Pulse. (Special note on the album mixing: the rhythm section is perfectly mic’d in this production and it’s a critical component that enables the success of the album. I’ll assume this is the result of the band leader being the drummer and therefore putting priority on it, but it puts the drums and double bass on par with the traditional lead instruments (sax, trumpet) rather than leaving them as subtle background pieces. It brings out an essential depth and balance to the songs.) The album opens with a mission statement – an interest in what the movement of time in music can illuminate in the movement of time historically. Throughout the following tracks, the saxophone and trumpet move in and out of sync. First creating periods of turbulence that highlight these are individuals with their own awareness of time, and then resolving into a unison that shows us what it means for a group to have a shared sense of time. Paired with this dynamic, the double bass builds ensemble time and Gameze’s drumming mixes traditional jazz styling with African influences – all with a musicality that few drummers can match.

4. Hertz, Carla Geneve
Another one of those releases from Down Under, Hertz is one of the more straight forward “alternative rock” picks on my list, sitting in a similar neighborhood as Blondshell’s album mentioned later on. But the fact that it so immediately stood out as needing to place prominently on my list speaks highly of how effectively Geneve has constructed a set of very personal songs. It’s the very personal and easily identifiable nature of her lyrics that make these songs resonate with the listener. Interviews around the release talk about it being a concept album documenting Geneve’s experience with bipolar disorder. While I might not connect with that detail specifically, that’s clearly not a requirement for the music to work its charm. Instead, Geneve shows us how the focused honesty of one individual can create powerful songs that go beyond the specifics of an individual’s experience and become something universal.

5. Maps, Billy Woods & Kenny Segal
Does Billy Woods sleep? Couldn’t be more than a few hours a night. He’s an insane workaholic, putting out a profusion of music across so many different projects I quickly gave up on the idea of trying to list them all out for this review. While much of that work is exceptional, it’s his collaborations with Kenny Segal where he sets new standards. I was so enamored with their first collaboration, 2019’s Hiding Places, that I have to admit it took me a while to warm up to Maps. Overall, the tracks are more down-tempo and Woods’ lyrics and delivery reflect a weariness – at least in some part because of the demands of all that work. And while Segal’s production is just as complex and creative, my initial impression craved the heavier bunch it had in the earlier work. What I had missed with those first listens was the brutal punch that Woods’ more than delivers with his lines.

6. Good Grief, Magic AL
Don’t underestimate this album’s title. This is the brightest, most upbeat album you’ll ever hear that’s focused on death and loss. Alex Bingham is a musician and producer who has worked with some of my favorite folk and indie rock artists in the Southeast (Hiss Golden Messenger, Watchouse, Libby Rodenbough, Beth Orton). With the project Magic AL, he’s brought many of those friends together to help him work through personal loss, creating a musical celebration or wake for those now gone. From the ridiculously infectious dance-pop opener “Cryin’ at the Party,” to the warm and dreamy “Hello,” and on through the entire album, this feels like an act that could be the definition of cathartic. Good Grief turns the bittersweet up to 11, making you want to simultaneously smile, cry, and dance.

7. L.A. Shit, GracieHorse
I typically have a lot more country or country-adjacent music in my annual favorite albums list. My guess is that part of the change this year is a subconscious attempt to move away from past listening patterns (as referenced in my opening monologue). This album is the one exception for 2023 and it’s country music of a very specific vibe. It’s country music that has nothing to do with pickup trucks or cows, but it is country music that clearly creates a musical landscape of the American Southwest. It’s country music of the Los Angeles hills. It’s country music that you might hear pouring from the speakers of a convertible Cadillac in some Coen brother’s movie about Tinseltown’s downtrodden. From that, Gracie Jackson uses the rich storytelling heritage of country music as her launching point to build movie-like vignettes about quirky characters, being away from home in the strangeness of LA, and the struggles of living in a post-pandemic world. What completes the scene with beguiling charm is Jackson’s vocal delivery – a smokey drawl she uses to deceptively deliver biting lines in dream-like ease. My single favorite moment in the album? The way she uses that drawl to deliver the lyric “true crime sleuths” in “What I’m Missing,” something that requires a singer with guts.

8. Blondshell, Blondshell
It’s been plain to see for a while that 90’s grunge has been having a resurgence, heavily influencing a lot of new artists. These kinds of trends have mixed results – some examples creating new magic, others feeling like lazy dilutions. The original grunge had a lot of white male, self-indulgent angstiness in it. (Ouch, that hits a bit close to home…) Part of this revival has been driven by, or corresponded with, an upswell of young (often called angsty) women artists; pinnacle examples of course: the boygenius wonder-trio of Julien Baker, Lucy Dacus, and Phoebe Bridgers. I suspect this is a risk for Blondshell, the moniker for Sabrina Teitelbaum, as it could allow some folks to view her work as “tag along.” There are certainly comparisons there, and of course the similarities to 90’s alt-rock – she clearly loves that loud-quite-loud grunge dynamic, there are guitar sounds not too different than what you might find on some Nirvana tracks, and the lyrical contradictions of self-loathing while also seeking love. But this is not Teitelbaum’s first go in the music scene and she’s talented enough to build her own magic formula. She’s got wicked lyrics, a great voice, catchy hooks, and crunching guitars. What else could I ask for? I am a youth of the 90’s after all.

9. Dimanche a Bamako, Bounaly
Over the last 10 years or so I’ve developed a love for the desert blues of North African guitar music – artists like Omara “Bombino” Moctar, Mdou Moctar, Fatoumata Diawara, Ali Farka Touré, and Tinariwen. There is an amazing energy that is formed with the mixing of this pulsing, rhythmic, guitar style and the traditional folk music of Tuareg, Malian, and Saharan Region cultures. But when I first heard the opening track of Dimanche a Bamako it literally made my heart race. Recorded at a wedding celebration, this is not an album for an audiophile – there is chaos in this recording. The vocals over-saturate the mic, the speakers sound like they have already blown, the circuit breaker is sure to trip at any point (in fact, there’s a moment in one song where the recording captures an actual electrical fault) but no one cares as the band and the crowd are focused entirely on rejoicing. With sounds of families still eating and kids playing in the background this album creates an amazing magic unlike anything I’ve ever heard before – it simultaneously captures both a frenetic party energy and the multilayered complexity of a community. [Cool sidenote: This is one of two albums in my top 20 that are from African artists but have a local connection. They were both released by Sehel Sounds, a small record label based here in Portland which specializes in music from the southern part of the Sahara desert.]

10. Silencio, Karen y Los Remedios
“Silencio” is the final line uttered in David Lynch’s film, Mulholand Drive. I’m not sure when you last saw that film or how clearly you might understand the meaning of that line. My memory of the film was fuzzy and unsure; I’d been wanting to revisit it for some time. Recently, I was traveling for work and found it playing on one of the movie channels as I sat in my hotel room. What did I get from this rewatch? I confirmed that the 20-something me who first watched it really missed major parts of the plot. And I’m still unclear on the whole “Silencio” thing. The trick to appreciating Mulholland Drive (and David Lynch film’s in general) is to not get hung up on understanding it all, but instead embrace the meaning you can take as well as the mystery that remains. The same is true of Silencio the album. In interviews with Ana Karen Barajas, lead singer of Karen y Los Remedios, I’ve seen mention of taking inspiration from the film, but to what degree, it’s unclear. (Obvious to those who know, my understanding here is largely self-inflicted due to my thorough ignorance of the Spanish language.) However, what is mentioned almost everywhere is how the music of Karen y Los Remedios blends cumbia and existentialism – both of which I’ve recently developed a thing for. Now I tried digging into the existential aspect but had a hard time getting English translations of the lyrics, so much of that I can’t speak to directly. But regardless of how deep those themes might be in the lyrics, the hypnotic cumbia beats and the mysterious vulnerability of Barajas’ voice are a combination I was never going to be able to resist.

And the rest of my top 20:

11. Thank God We Left the Garden, Jeffrey Martin
12. LXXXVIII, Actress
13. Dynamic Maximum Tension, Darcy James Argue’s Secret Society
14. A Collection of Songs in the Traditional & Sean-Nós Style, Various Artists
15. Fil O Fenjoon, ZÖJ
16. the record, boygenius
17. Jerusalem, Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru
18. Liminal Fields, Vulture Feather
19. Variable Happiness, Edsel Axle
20. Namian Sidibé, Namian Sidibé

Going Back 50 Years: 1973

I spend a lot of my time focused on new music. At points, it feels like too much time. Sporadically jumping from album release to album release in search of the new and shiny, the next big thing, in a way that risks full appreciation of the music. And strangely, the constant focus on “What’s next?” can being to feel like it perversely accentuates the passing of time.

This feeling is often strongest at the very end of the year, after I’ve finished working on my annual “Best of” lists, and of course gone through the existential ringer of another New Year’s Eve. Maybe not surprising then, that I’ve developed a pattern of starting each year recoiling back towards old favorites or music of the past. It was during one of these periods a few years ago that I realized how shallow my knowledge was of music from the 1970’s. I had memories of what my parents listened to when I was a kid, but what were they missing? I had years of forced exposure to “Classic Rock” radio that taught me a version of 70’s music, but mass media always flattens and over-simplifies art/culture.

So I began taking a deep dive into the 70’s, picking one year at a time to revisit. While I won’t claim I exhaustively scoured every musical corner of the 70’s, I did feel good about the process, having uncovered some new gems for myself and finding new appreciation for music I had maybe missed or left behind.

I bring this all up now given I am about to turn 50, so the year 1973 is particularly top of mind. That was a long time ago. In many ways, the world and music was much different then. At the same time, the fundamentals of what people get from music hasn’t changed. So in this post I’m not going to try and re-litigate some list of the absolute Top 10 Albums from 1973. Instead, I’m going to share what stood out to me as I used the viewpoint I have now as a 50 year old music fan in 2023 and I explored the music being released the year I was born. My hope is that it rekindles a love of something you’ve maybe forgotten along the way or it encourages you to do your own looking back with fresh ears.

FAVORITE MUSIC OF 1973

The “Best” Album?
I’ll start right off with something a bit controversial. Pretty much any review of 1973 will list Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon as the best album of the year. My take is that this may be true when doing the common thing of viewing past work through the perspective of “for it’s day.” Dark Side of the Moon was pretty mind blowing for a teenager in 1973, I won’t deny that. But for me listening to it now, without relying on nostalgia or some pre-built legacy bias… it just doesn’t float my boat. Besides, everyone knows it so let’s move on to more interesting things.

Most Exciting Re-Discovery
The biggest thing that hit me about 1973 was discovering what an amazing year it was for reggae and Afro-funk music. A flood of stellar albums were released that year thanks to the prodigious output of three amazing musicians who put out two albums each in ’73!
Afrodisiac and Gentleman by Fela Kuti & Africa 70
Funky Kingston and In the Dark by Toots and the Maytals
Burnin’ and Catch a Fire by Bob Marley and the Wailers

A Pair of Great Albums
While neither of these releases are considered the best albums put out by the respective artists, they both stood out to me as great pieces of music I would be happy to go back to at any time. On top of that, I found immense joy in listening to them together, hearing how these two iconic musicians were putting out very different, but equally enduring songs at the same point in time.
Call Me by Al Green
Shotgun Willie by Willie Nelson

My Favorite Album of 1973
The album I would personally consider my favorite was actually not a surprise or anything I had forgotten about. It was something I hadn’t listened to in a long time but revisiting it along side all the other music from that year actually solidified it’s stature for me. I’m a bit chagrined to admit I didn’t really get around to embracing Iggy Pop’s music until I was in my early 30’s, but once I took the time to look past the larger-than-life persona it was hard to deny the intense draw of his music, a draw created by his fierce energy. Today I find it hard not to hear how strongly Raw Power (and other Iggy albums) influences current music, and it’s this iconic nature that can lead to a misguided impression of being “of the past.” Thankfully, all you have to do is bring a fresh set of ears and you’ll be newly rewarded every time.
Raw Power by The Stooges

My Favorite Song of 1973
How many movie soundtracks has this song been used in? Whatever the answer, it’s not enough. An insanely catchy guitar lick, a chorus that speaks to us at any age.
“Ooh La La” by Faces

Terrible Drummer

Last week, I wasn’t a drummer at all. I’d never played drums before. As of this week, I am a terrible drummer.

I’m not sure when or how the idea first got into my head. When listening to any kind of music, my attention is frequently drawn to the rhythm, the drum line that sits within the music and gives it form. In recent years I’ve found myself increasingly drawn to music with strong percussive textures and intricate beats. But I hadn’t been thinking about actually drumming myself.

Then a couple weeks ago I started looking on Craig’s list to see just exactly what a used drum set cost. Hadn’t I read drumming is good for your mental and physical health? (Yes.) Could I make room for one in my garage? (Yes.) Or could I fit one in my living room? (Sure…)

So the Monday before Thanksgiving, after getting home from work, I found myself looking at an add for a descent looking set of drums (although, what do I know?) and message a guy about coming over that night.

And now I’m a terrible drummer.

Unburied Treasures: Unsolved Karate

While I was an avid consumer of indie-rock and post-punk/hardcore throughout the ’90’s, somehow I never stumbled upon Karate. Maybe because they were a Boston area band and I was more aware of the West Coast and D.C. area scenes. Whatever the case, thanks to a Bandcamp article highlighting the reissue of their 2000 album, I found a new corner of the DIY indie-rock scene full of strange alchemy.

The term “jazz fusion” is one that generally makes me cringe. But I do actually love music that bridges jazz structures into other genres (hip-hop and electronica in particular) or takes jazz influences and applies them in unexpected places – unfortunately, it is a tricky chemistry and difficult to pull off well. [Side Note: my friend Jeremy recently introduced me to Laufey which led to a very long discussion about what is jazz and highlighted the particular finicky ups and down of doing jazz influenced music.]

What Karate were bold/crazy/intelligent/ignorant enough to do was take the intricate rhythms, shifting time structures, and cerebral lyrics common in the DIY post-hardcore scene of the ’90’s and apply a very thick dose of jazz creating a very singular sound. In hindsight, some of this seems natural, like it should have been an obvious step (for example, the fingerprints of Fugazi are certainly there) but where they took their music was not obvious and remains a unique sound even to this day.

In Karate’s initial albums the jazz tones were not as “up-front” or pervasive, with the sound shifting through influences and stylings as if they were trying on different outfits to see what they liked best. But with 1998’s The Bed Is In the Ocean, they began to hit their stride and then in 2000 they released Unsolved, pushing the jazz leaning far enough that the swinging guitar play and Geoff Farina’s vocal style generated what could almost be described as lunge-punk – two words I would never have thought I’d put together without it being a joke. But this album is not a joke.