Amplifying the music, books, movies and journalism that matter.
Life is complicated and busy. Did you notice? Keeping up with the music, movies and books that fed your youthful imagination and conversations is harder than ever, but even more important. Here's the good news: there's never been more great new stuff. The challenge is to find it.
So here are my highly opinionated views on sounds, sights and words that will help you keep it fresh and real, and links to the veins where the richest motherlodes can be found.
The end of a decade. I didn't see this coming. Should I feel obliged to call out decade defining discs that embody the trends of the 'teens? Nah. Once again, these are simply the disks that held up for me, from start to finish and after repeated listens. And there were lots of them, so work one or two into your rotation. And listen to the whole damn thing; somebody worked hard on this.
Vampire Weekend, Father of the Bride
I liked the old VW just fine, the smart collegiate pop that Ezra Koenig and Rostam Batmanglij made beginning almost 15 years ago. Wry wordplay and recycled Afrobeats. It was fresh and original, even if it genuflected to Paul Simon. And now Koenig is at the helm alone and it feels, well, better. The rhythms are still nervous but the songwriting is simpler and clearer, and the collaborators -- including Danielle Haim and Rostam, too -- stretch VW in new directions, befitting the more grown-up subject matter.
Clairo, Immunity
There's a place in the world for soft rock. My living room, for starters. Immunity was Clairo's official debut after breaking out on "YouCloud" or wherever the hell it is breakouts happen these days. Here she's got the A-team at her side (look, Rostam and Danielle again!), showing off pop songcraft chops that make me think she'll be around for a while.
Raphael Sadiq, Jimmy Lee
Sadiq has been an R&B demigod since the late '80's, with a genius for turning out soulful pop gems -- dazzling, sparkling things you want to replay the minute they end. Jimmy Lee aims even higher: a song cycle about his late brother, a victim of addiction, that ranges over genres and styles. It reaches for a Stevie Wonder cohesiveness (think Fullfillingness' First Finale) and mostly succeeds.
Lana Del Rey, Norman F***ing Rockwell
She's like a difficult friend. You think, I don't need another evening of her drama, but then she's brilliantly on -- witty and insightful with turns of phrase that astonish and smart-mouthed putdowns that keep you howling. And the melodies! And you think, if only she could just be like this all the time. She could be a Joni or Carole for these times -- as long as she keeps her shit together.
Snoh Aalegra, - Ugh Those Feels Again What the world needs now is some fresh makeout music. Sade's Diamond Life and Roxy Music's Avalon have been with us for 35 years and Barry White's not coming back from the dead. So thank Aalegra, a Swede, for delivering a new quiet storm classic, weaving a spell with smokey, fresh, deep-house tinged tracks that surpass her 2017 Feels. She's more at home here, singing from a deeper place -- and more authentically soulful. Let's stay in tonight.
Helado Negro, This Is How You Smile
Synth-folk from a Florida-born son of Ecuadorian parents, now living in Brooklyn. This is cutting edge music that won't make you edgy. Sung in Spanish and English, the texture of these dreamy songs belies the pain of the immigrant experience that Roberto Carlos Lange describes. But it's so not a downer. Instead, This Is How You Smile offered me reasons for hope this year. What a gift!
Bill Callahan, Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest
The simplicity of folk music made sense to me this year. I dipped back into '60's legends Tom Rush, Chris Smither and (God help me) Gordon Lightfoot. But Callahan is a folksinger for this decade, who eschews politics but looks deeply at everyday life. The minor key of Shepherd can conceal that these are happy songs about successful romance and family. Callahan reminds us that sometimes melancholy can be a satisfying place to visit.
Bill Frisell & Thomas Morgan, Epistrophy
There are hundreds of jazz albums released every year that do what this does: document a single, fleeting, live performance by seasoned jazz professionals. What made this one special for me was a rare chemistry between guitarist Frisell (a favorite of mine) and bassist Morgan, deconstructing a collection of jazz standards. They are neither noisy nor flashy; indeed, both are masters of restraint. But in their quiet playing they reveal the architecture of these songs and make them new.
Moonchild, Little Ghost
This may prove a completely disposable bit of electro-soul, a hybrid of Floetry, Massive Attack, and late period Everything But the Girl, but I loved it. It's all about the beats.
Lizzo, Cuz I Love You
How could this not be here? She was everywhere, breaking through with the same confident, modern swagger we love about Erykah and Janelle. And the sound? It looks back to Betty Wright and Millie Jackson, and across the road to Brittany Howard, while being completely her own with that freaky flute, big guitars and whip smart drumming. Who wouldn't love this? Everybody sing: "Ya-ya-ee, ya-ya-ee!"
