“Dolby’s Top 50 Albums of 2023”

Well, it’s been another lonely year in the blogosphere, more or less. Once in a while I’ll get an e-mail from the guy in Germany wanting me to review an album on his label, and every so often an artist will hit me up, invariably ignoring my request for fee. Other than that, it’s a lot of sitting at home with my laptop and ear buds, lapping this stuff up for free.

And I think I speak for all bloggers when I say that we’re all trying to shake this notion of music-as-kitsch which stems from the stuff being available for free online. Americans have the proclivity to make fun of stuff, let’s face it, and it’s very easy to fall into the trap of condescension when handling and discussing this stuff, to which some people are still out there giving a lot of mental and emotional energy.

So I think music, anyway, MEANS SOMETHING in 2023 to the extent that we can enjoy it. And I genuinely enjoy all of the albums on this list. They impress me, soothe me in a way, or inspire me, and, almost always, humble me as well. But if I can’t successfully imbue humility into the American populace, you know, I won’t lose too much sleep over it.

Cheers,

Honorable Mention:

Prettybwoy – Upward Current (EP)

Linda May Han Oh – The Glass Hours

Moufang & Czamanski – Recreational Kraut

30/70 – ART MAKE LOVE

Arif Mirbaghi – Gestures of Light (EP)

Gabe ’Nandez – Pangea

Tilo Weber – Tesserae

Kelela – Raven

Secret Circuit – Green Mirror

Forest Bees – Between the Lines

On Man – High Crystal

Marijn S – Under the Lily Pads (EP)

Charlie Smarts & DJ III Digitz – Charlietape

Pep Mula – ELIXIR: Mula, Vol. III

Wilco – Cousin

Kareem Ali – The Color of Sound

Fluffy inside – 303 Minds Are Better than One (EP)

Basic Rhythm – Sound Killa (EP)

The National – Laugh Track

Teflon – 2 Sides to Every Story

50 Saloli – Canyon

Portland pianist Mary Sutton, a.k.a. Saloli, has an interesting mission statement at work for her new album Canyon — “to evoke ‘a day in the life of a bear in a canyon in the Smoky Mountains,’” according to Bandcamp. Right away, on “Waterfall”; the music itself almost seems to have a heartbeat in itself, by how she juxtaposes upbeat/downbeat emphasis on synth and bass. Canyon is an expansive, textural journey, music for music’s sake, like a reliable cluster of instrumental etudes from which any New Wave or indie band could glean a wealth and orchard of authentic style.

49 Glasser – Crux

East Coast electro diva Glasser returns this year after a nine-year break with Crux, an album marked by minimalism and an emphasis on vocals, in evolution from her more rhythmic ambient pop of yore. A key thematic highlight is “Knave”; on which the artist makes herself androgynous into the titular character, letting her vocals splay out into spliced obscurity and warping an ephemeral steel guitar into a barely recognizable quagmire of liquidity. “Easy” harks back to “T”; her best song to date, with those grainy, sturdy quarter-note synth runs outlining an original set of fragile, sensitive vocals, Glasser’s voice calling to mind St. Vincent in its exhausted sense of having seen it all but still kept its eyes on the prize.

48 Rugged Triad & Nivek B – The King’s Regalia

There’s almost no information online on this Atlanta team of Nivek B and other rugged-sounding rappers who sound like they smoke two packs of reds a day. So they come like a thief in the night, here, perhaps, on Nivek’s second album recruiting a wealth of producers toward invigorating samples and some authentic street spitting that encompasses everything from battle raps, to romance, to peeping the future of the game on the elegant, lithe “Front Line”; produced by Bobcatt the Legend. Even the girl Indigo Phoenyx lays it down on this track: “Cut all that drug chat / You ain’t never even seen a brick / Fake phony a** frauds / Make me sick”.

47 Long Beach Dub Allstars – Echo Mountain High

The Long Beach Dub Allstars now parade around with none of the final members of Sublime but this may be a blessing in disguise anyway, as Marshall Goodman (the original Sublime drummer who was undeservedly ousted, in my opinion) is left to arranging these tunes with a keen ear for music, rhythm and ghetto grit. The band still has its original singer, anyway, Opie Ortiz, and he’s responsible for a singular sort of personality, style and flair, here, as on “Up on the Land”; on which he expresses a mourning for the polluted shorelines with a passion most dudes would reserve for a shorty. The song also comes fresh with one killer, liquid-y guitar solo from Miguel Happoldt. This is obviously a band that has been honing their sound and forging some original new territory, possibly with the help of removing the shackles of past expectations.

46 Orrin Evans – The Red Door

The latest offering from Philly pianist and bandleader Orrin Evans is a full-slab feast of light, capricious jazz, free enough to just straight up shed meter at some points, but clear and gritty enough to always come with a signature sound to satisfy the most mighty of jazz cravings. “Phoebe’s Stroll” might be my favorite, an easy-going and approachable piano/drums arrangement with a set of melodies that sort of bubble up out of the nowhere at their leisure and stake a firmer claim to your consciousness than was originally let on by the song’s innocuous nonchalance. Orrin Evans other project The Bad Plus is responsible for producing the #1 album of 2022 according to this website, as well, for whatever that may be worth.

45 The Hives – The Death of Randy Fitzsimmons

The band that brought you “Hate to Say I Told You So” and “Walk Idiot Walk” (and who, amazingly, are actually kind of capable of composing a love song, when they wish) seemed He**-bent on fu**ing with our heads again this year, as in the brutally honest quip cited in Rock Sound from singer Pelle Almqvist: “We definitely don’t want to make something that sounds mature and older.” The album’s thematic basis, then, a fictional band songwriter named “Randy Fitzsimmons,” would seem to facilitate the setting of the table for some good-ol’ puerile rocking out, which is exactly what the band do on this robust, energetic record. It’s so true to form, in fact, that I almost took it for retread, a mistake I often make with groups or artists comfortable enough in their own skin to shed posturing and unnecessary artistic lunging.

44 Sci-Clone – Radio Therapy – Pt. 1

Sci-Clone is composed of two DJ’s from London and Auckland, New Zealand respectively and unfurls their debut album of funky, peacock-proud beats, catering loosely to the dubstep and house sector mainstays in Europe and beyond. “1980 One” kind of reminds me of a game show theme song, in a good way, like it’s got that pomp and swagger of that jingle in The Price is Right, which strangely sometimes seems like just what your spirits need. Through and through, these songs morph and progress nicely from the ones previous, making for an incredibly fresh listen which will also reward frequent plays.

43 Queens of the Stone Age – In Times New Roman…

There’s something that just warms my heart this year about encountering a new Queens of the Stone Age album which is their best one, in my opinion, since Lullabies to Paralyze (2005). Well, my heart is about as warm as it can possibly in hearing lines like “Kiss it goodbye / Fu** me stupid / Enjoy the obscenery / Goodnight”. In general, this album plays with the dark grittiness and edge that initially ingratiated these guys to us — maybe it took that drama in Josh Homme’s personal life to reignite this noir passion. Either way, we’ve struck gold here as even the radio hit “Emotion Sickness” lassos in some poignant energy and good-ol’ rancor.

42 Dee Byrne – Outlines

Dee Byrne is an alto saxophonist whose band of the same name hails from London and sharpens their blade on some full-bodied, worldly and polymorphous jazz runs. The keyboard on “Capsule” provides an intriguing electronic element to this music that serves primarily to render it epochal while detracting nothing from the album’s authentic sonic landscape. Dee Byrne has played in various bands in the last 10 years all around Europe including in Zurich, Switzerland and certainly steals the show on this particular LP.

41 B. Rupp – Vapid Time

B. Rupp is one of those Bandcamp artists who doesn’t feel the need to provide a lot of background information on himself or his work, which is certainly rather refreshing. And speak for themselves these beats do, with a zany combination of anthropomorphic noises and ominous tones juxtaposed with a fresh, almost world-music vibe via rhythmic percussion squeals, on “2 O’Clock and the Time.” “Into Flu” kind of geeks me out too because it makes me think of when you get the flu and how you get this weird, ulterior reality thing, as if you’re finding solutions to problems that exist only in your own head. This track, too, is primordially cool, again marrying some half-intelligible vocal channeling with some robustly textural IDM on which the rhythm becomes an afterthought by way of the thick, penetrating timbre.

40 Mike Gordon – Flying Games

True to form, the new album from the Phish bassist is a FUNKY endeavor, with the rubber-fingered master Gordon splashing some wicked bass lines onto pretty much all these cuts. From there, one influence clearly at work would be Steely Dan, and indeed this album does have a way of coming across as really full, eclectic and well-developed, the way that band did when they were at their most vital. Originality is also in full stock here. He**, Gordon has always been a little weird, singing songs like “Weigh,” and whatnot (“I’d like to cut your head off / So I can weigh it / Whadya say?”), especially considering that he looks like Carson Daly or some reality TV show host in his Spotify photo.

39 Last Nubian & Sweet Fruity Brunch – Babylon Shuffle (EP)

This DJ combination of Last Nubian (London) and Sweet Fruity Brunch (Geneva, Switzerland) has converged to give us another concise dance EP this year. I’m not sure what it is about this genre and EP’s but the artists seem overwhelmingly inclined toward the format — I mean, true, electronica is a lot of work, as instead of just “jamming” you have to do so much clicking on a computer and phone. But, again, this isn’t music that sounds computerized — the fresh use of sampling and the otherworldly, undulating synth sound right awawy on “call yu out” will put you in the mood for partying and maybe ingesting some illegal substances, and all that good stuff. The trippy, ephemeral disposition of “In da morning/shaka” might call to mind DJ Dodger Stadium and his knack of making his samples anthemic, like they were an extension of himself even though he found them at some random place on the Internet.

38 David Harrow – Rare Earth Technology

This David Harrow guy’s catalogue on Bandcamp is certainly staggering: something like 24 different releases, whether singles or full albums like this one (Rare Earth Technology is over 50 minutes, too). He looks, too, in his photo, like a guy who kind of has seen it all or has a chip on his shoulder, almost to the point where it was off-putting. It doesn’t take long to grasp, though, that this music is professional grade, robust in anatomy and intricate, fresh and original in fabric. Its use of crisp, almost jagged snare sound might remind you of John Talabot but this is music that even to a greater extent shirks confinement within a specific style, calling to mind nature, the great wide open and the great freedom possible when one probes the potential of the freed mind.

37 Tomu DJ – Crazy Trip

This Tomu DJ is like, “I’m from California,” and he’s posing somewhat like a dharma bum out in this field with what looks like a bonfire. So that’s chill, and stuff. And… I think I’m falling asleep from this first track “Mewsic,” which is crazily hypnotic with this incessant, overarching synth riff and this ambient percussion set that keeps coming in and out like waves on the ocean. “Pretty Funny” only gets chiller, with some amazingly gorgeous, gentle synth sound draping a beat that’s rhythmically astute but more cajoling than crushing. It seems clear at this point that he’s teaming up with fellow LA DJ David Harrow to exacerbate all of our bouts with narcolepsy. See ya in a few.

36 Zar – Unfurl (EP)

Switching things over to London now, we’ve got Zar, a DJ prone to busy electronica almost resembling a Daft Punk take on drum and bass, but not as, um, annoying. Not as ostentatious. Let’s go with that. “Because You Are” rides some sick treated upbeat hats, with sampled vocals diving in frenetically and at rhythmically jagged times for a really fresh and original listen. “Cloudy Drum Studying” unfurls a simple, syncopated beat and some lively, anthemic sampling that gives the song a great party vibe, even if it is a little too chill and ambient for the club (for which many of us are probably grateful, mind you).

35 WateRR & Machacha – ALMIGHTY

To be perfectly honest, I’m not really sure what the role of this “Machacha” character on this album, as the rapper is apparently this “WateRR” character from Chicago and he’s also credited with being the “executive producer.” Bandcamp states that the album was “scored” by Machacha… but anyway it’s good to finally hear some good hip-hop coming out of the Windy City and WateRR has the sort of gruff disposition that might remind you a little of Ka and make you know that what he’s spitting is genuine and world-weary. The street diction hits turbo mode then on “Hold the Gavel”: “Rule with an iron gavel / Wear my find apparel / Diamond narrows / Line on barrel / Got my eye on sparrow” and this album becomes a poetic document like a found art object giving off light from a violent, creative sun.

34 Jasper Hoiby – Three Elements: Earthness

Seasoned Copenhagen jazz vet and pianist Jasper Hoiby lassoes up a crisp three-piece unit christened “Three Elements” for this expansive exercise in quick, light and verbose jazz music. Luca Caruso has an excellent penchant for hitting the off, syncopated beats on the title track, complementing Hoiby’s excursions in doing the same and doling an ample level of freshness and verve to this session. Throughout, the band’s got a great way of instituting pauses and rebuttals as a way of giving the songs character and depth. Things get toned down and ambient, then, for “Never Forgotten”; and the ebb in tempo and intensity acts as a refreshing sort of exhale and solidifies this music as bona fide lulling material in those well-heated auditoriums of the world.

33 Edsel Axle – Variable Happiness

Instrumental guitarist Edsel Axle hails from Wallasey, UK, which is a suburb of Liverpool, a large city in the nation’s Northwestern region. And, true to Northwest form, this guy does come off as great music for copping some flannel, sitting around drinking coffee and making snide, sarcastic comments. There is, perhaps, though, an even greater sense of mourning in this music, and the slow-paced, sonically grand guitar runs he beckons remind me somewhat of bagpipes, the choice instrument of Scotland, a nation which lies about 150 miles north of his native Wallasey. It’s easy to get the sense that “Every day is silent and grey” from the picture of Axle’s stomping grounds, but album centerpiece “Present Moment,” clocking in at three seconds short of 10 minutes, possesses enough verve in the departments of style and effects that it at least qualifies as “fun,” kind of like a loner kid doing a science experiment of his choosing in his basement.

32 Tim Reaper – The Cosmik Connection Vol. 3 (EP)

UK’s Tim Reaper is classified as “jungle” in a 2021 article in beatportal, a style of beats “known for its rapid breakbeats, cut-and-paste samples… and roots in Caribbean sound system culture by way of London.” I don’t have a lot of knowledge of the movement itself but these grooves do imbue a wild, frenetic feel, somewhat like a jungle full of animals dancing in a way that was really systematic and mesmerizing, rather than eerie or unsettling. The EP overall does a good job of maintaining a stylistic consistency, too, so it all comes across as one organic whole, to be played straight through in seamless continuity.

31 Escaflowne – Slipstream

Keeping it in the jungle family here we’ve got Brooklyn’s Escaflowne, another probably introverted artist who keeps a pretty low online profile. In letting the music speak for itself, though, he unleashes a world of rhythms and polymorphous song segments that leave everything feeling fresh and invigorating. The breakneck-paced kick-snare grooves are flanked nicely, that is, by pastoral beauty in the form of tender synth and organ as well as mix space, an ample physical sound room in which these timbres can flow. “Hard Rain” is a crazy instance of mimicking nature midway through the album, getting defiantly rhythmic and atonal somewhat like Mouse on Mars in its heyday.

30 Ty Farris & Graymatter – Sounds That Never Left My Soul

Detroit rapper Ty Farris is hungry, energetic and clear on Sounds That Never Left My Soul, which is crazy since, unless I’m hallucinating, he’s got like 15 full-length releases available on Spotify that have all come out in 2018 or thereafter. It certainly gets hard to keep track of all the rappers these days. Farris just seems to want it more, though, mixing in just enough real-life storytelling to complement his cocky battle rapping to make this an authentic street experience.

29 Brian Blade & the Fellowship Band – Kings Highway

Brian Blade and his Fellowship Band create jazz music that rests nicely on art rock, laying emphatic piano chords and semi-backbeat-resembling snare hits against the virtuosic, celestial saxophone playing of Myron Walden and Melvin Butler. This is truly music that is anatomically sound, with songs that stretch into the 15-minute territory but still morph and progress in a ways that are both sensible and engaging. The epic title track brings its own vibe of tension and frenetic energy to the affair, a nice successor to “People’s Park,” its own reminder that quality art can cure insomnia too.

28 FORAGER – Pipedream Firewood

One really cool aspect of Brooklyn chamber pop trio FORAGER is that they actually have a live drummer, a kicker being that the drum beats are so fresh and off-kilter that they seem to transfer the genre on their own. This is the wizardry of Colum Enrique, who backs Shyamala on vocals and Jack Broza on multiple instruments, for a singular experience in 2020’s pub rock. The free-spirited Shyamala weaves in jazz scatting on the indescribable “Edgewise” but it’s the way she repeats “You like to hear yourself talk” for the chorus that cements this music as authentic — as skilled as she is in her muse’s retreat into beats and melodies, she needs it as badly as we do.

27 Guided by Voices – La La Land

On their 37th album Guided by Voices belt out, you guessed it, some defiant and adamant lo-fi indie rock rife with ironic, self-deprecating lyrics and haunting forays into metaphor. (Alarmingly, they’ve put out two more albums this year since La La Land, beholding them to a total of 39 of the suckers.) The band is not without new tricks, though, such as the stylish way opener “Another Day to Heal” bleeds into “Released into Dementia” as if they’re conjoined in the same song. As always, too, the band do a good job of sequencing and flow, with “Released into Dementia” taking a slower pace and more reflective, easy tone than its predecessor. The palm muting on “Instinct Dwelling”; then, almost seems to obviate some bouts or lyricism which are sure to act as gut checks, or head-scratchers, or both.

26 SLAGSMAL – Spaflugan Springur

Of course, unfortunately, the elephant in the room with this group and project is probably the nomenclature, which is Icelandic and probably made readership think of some conceptual death metal band. Actually, chilled-out jazz not galaxies away from Brian Blade territory is the calling card here, with these guys invariably peppering a little more tension and probably even patience, letting these songs grow from biologically simple organisms strident, flourishing gems, if only for their ease and freedom. The parts play off of each other beautifully, too, with drummer Logi Bergsson laying down busy, complex beats that never hog the soundscape, and pianist Porbergur Ballason weaving ambient tapestries all over these jams that spice the mix in a way that’s never ham-handed.

25 John Davis – John Davis

I typically make a general practice of locating where an artist is from and including that information on this list. With Christian rocker John Davis, though, the anonymity thing seems more appropriate, going right along with his generic, “John Doe” type of name. Indeed, the inspiration, the feeling, the grit and the emotion going into this stuff is entirely cataclysmic and could only have come from some kind of heaven itself. And this is being articulated by a staunchly anti-white-messianic individual. Standouts include “Salvation”; “Jesus Gonna Build Me a Home” and the grunge-y, time-stopping “Tear Me apart”; one of the humblest, most eclectic and most urgent bouts of penitence you’re likely to encounter on the most provincial on Texas planes.

24 Raj Pannu – Past crimes

Greek DJ Raj Pannu lays it down thick, sturdy and steady here, establishing beats and grooves that leave absolutely no doubt about his knack for and dedication to the craft of spaced-out IDM. The obstinate avoidance of backbeats probably precludes this stuff from being dubbed “club music” but it’s all the more refreshing for that, anyway, like the grooviest music to which you’ve ever sat down and played poker. It’s Pannu’s use of basic, almost hackneyed themes, too, toward this robust and gratifying end, that makes it even more rewarding — dubstep drum lines and synth runs that make full use of texture and sound. You give him an inch and he takes a meter.

23 The New Pornographers – Continue as a Guest

On the ninth New Pornographers album and third without former singer/songwriter Dan Bejar of Destroyer (hence leaving Carl Newman and Neko Case as the only b-list celebrities informing the proceedings), the melodic moxie creeps in slowly, as the work of a band dedicated to pop construction and taking time in the studio to augment and reinforce musical statements. It’s when “Pontius Pilate’s Home Movies” strolls in glibly and with dark, spooky majesty that you know Newman has been to some haunting new places, emotionally, and we’re in for a poignant ride here on this LP. he chorus mantra in “Cat and Mouse with the Light”; as well, aptly harks back to the glory days of lyrical irony: “It’s like I can’t stand that you love me”.

22 CHERISE – Calling

I saw the little narrative on Bandcamp that London’s CHERISE is a “soul sensation” and it gave me the delusional idea for one second that maybe the collective opinion of radio and the masses and my own weren’t mutually exclusive. Then I remembered that, c’est la vie, she is a Bandcamp darling, albeit one with a full, vibrant mix courtesy of some producer who seems to be staying incognito in the blogosphere. The jaunty “2 Steppin’” is catchy and plays as the obvious lead single but then “Elixir” takes the tempo down a notch and comes across even smoother without sacrificing any of the jazzy style or crooning sense of urgency in CHERISE’s vocals. The off-tempo, sans-percussion breakdown is awesome, too, with CHERISE assuring us that she’ll “Heal like Marvin”; and, it’s obvious, do so in her very own way that no one else would have envisioned.

21 Tanizaki – Rain over Mountain

This album definitely had the feel of New Age (I must admit that usually when I encounter these projects on this list to do with mini-blurbs I have no idea what they are) with the title “Rain over Mountain” and the sound bite of some kind of waterfall or thereabouts gracing the first few seconds. Things then get going into a lazy, Moderat- or Stereolab-approximating brand of IDM, as if computers have obnoxiously corrupted the natural world, but done so at least in a way that’s rhythmic and that refreshingly blends electric guitar and programmed beats toward something that’s chill and vaguely jazzy, even. So this is indeed one of those LP’s that’s a bit hard to categorize (like how Stereolab is always slotted with “rock”), but, of course, all the better for it, like removing the shackles of classifications and taking a bona fide breath in.

20 Circles around the Sun – Language

Whether it’s Ween, Phish, Electric Light Orchestra, or whoever, I’ve heard a lot of bands channel the Pink Floyd VIBE with moderate success over the years, but I don’t think I’ve ever beheld an act actually approximating them in instrumentation and texture, toward gleaning of an influence, like Circles around the Sun do on the show-stopping new album Language. In the band’s first album with new guitarist John Lee Shannon, who replaced the late Neal Casal, the band sound like a group collectively dedicated to revamping jam rock, with an eclectic approach to instrumentation and grooves. The cheap pub drum beats and guitar wanking are replaced by ambient tones and strategically placed sonic jabs, on buttery synth and silvery guitar runs, all over active, funky basslines from Dan Horne. On “Outer Boroughs,” the band successfully marry jam and classic rock from the ground up — crystal-clear guitar coupled with what I think is a Moog played through a wah-wah pedal. Suffice it to say, not a lot of bands are doing stuff like this these days.

19 SDH – Fake is Real

Spain’s dance-pop duo SDH take a vaguely club-minded approach to their songcraft, while also overseeing the song structures as decidedly pop, typically falling between three and four minutes. Nonetheless, the mission statement seems clear — losing yourself in the moment and enjoying it the maximal extent, as Andrea Latorre articulates on opener “Balance”: “The words get stuck and I wanted to dance”. “Denial” pumps in even funkier, with a sick house beat flanking Latorre’s vocals that have now turned twisted and almost unintelligible, marking a noticeable metamorphosis into the band’s own dark, underground world of rhythm. Your heart and a** are sure to follow.

18 Jayda G – Guy

The catchy tunes come in droves on this new project from London Jane-of-all-trades Jayda G, a self-produced pledge of allegiance to dance pop… pub pop? Anyway, these are songs that could well be pumping through speakers in public places for many years to come, on account of, among other things, the substantial level of purpose and genuineness in G’s voice. These songs are her babies, you might say — she’s got swagger and character but also tends to her craft with focus and dedication, down to the little details like the vocal return that fades out “Heads or Tails.” And as much of a redundancy as it seems, “Lonely back in O” (the “O” standing for “Oakland”) further bolsters this album’s entertainment value and charisma, with some rhythmic stops and stars and a crisp, lithe chorus.

17 Diviniti – In Due Time

In Due Time from Pennsylvania soul diva Diviniti is an extensive development in music-lover’s soul music, with six-minute songs flanking the shorter pop tunes and instilling a sense of purpose into this session. All the while, the singer remains focused but amiable, as if providing us a sessions of real, bona fide joy. A great case in point would be “More Love” and its anthemic chorus of “All I know is that it feels so right / This love I have for you”. The best part, though, is how the chorus has the tendency to rest on tense chords, proclaiming a fertile background in jazz and amalgamating toward a unique, meaningful pop experience.

16 Blue Ocean – Fertile State

Blue Ocean cracks me up for a lot of reasons. First of all, they’re from Oakland, which I’m pretty sure anthropologists have determined to be the seventh layer of He**. And then there’s nothing on their Bandcamp page describing who the He** they are and when “Ode”; the opener on their new album Fertile State, begins, the vocals come in almost right away, to no fanfare, and are completely muffled into obscurity, not even by the loudness of the guitar and drums, but just by their very nature of never having proclaimed themselves in the first place. So this is a twee pop album, then, and one which pledges allegiance thereto, in a perspectival way, which seems like my mantra, I suppose, seeing as I don’t really have anything else to say about this project other than that it seems like perfection, like an immaculately self-effacing love song to lost youth and innocence.

15 Elephant Stone – Another Year Gone (EP)

Carrying the torch from Wolf Parade, perhaps, Elephant Stone seem to be ushering in a new era in Montreal indie rock, one that doesn’t shy away from a casual twee pop disposition peppered with robust, almost grating Moog synth. The instrumentation certainly seems fresh here, the songs all the while paring down to digestible, memorable nuclei, i.e. “The Spark”: “Where is the spark / That you used to find / You’re lost in the dark / And nothing was found”. The contemplative way the band has of delivering this raw, overarching humanistic malady obviates copious artistic vision: there’s more to these guys’ artistic sense than they let on. At the same time, with all this heartache, they’re happy just to get through the next day, and crank out some nice, approachable tunes in the process.

14 Shake Stew – Lila

Austria octet Shake Stew chime out the kind of jazz album in Lila that immediately, internally, makes you just laugh at the people who would say “Jazz is dead.” Then again, anyway, it’s so stylistically askance and eclectic, for a bona fide off-the-beaten-path listen, that you’d never confuse it with Miles Davis, Wynton Marsalis or a clone of the larger canon. “Not Water but Rest” presents a traditional jazz instrumentation of trumpet, saxophone, bass guitar and drums, but grooves along on a funky bongo beat with stylish runs that hint at a melody but don’t beat you over the head with it and keep things light and airy. This is summery jazz music for driving to in the country, soundtracking a moment so beautiful you’d have otherwise never known it existed.

13 AMAARA – Child of Venus

I was listening to this album and I was just like… how is this not the best album of the year? It’s absolute pop perfection, gliding along on this velvety plane of soft, agile synths and bass and beats that are subtle but just pungent enough to aptly soundtrack the mix’s lower half. The unbelievable, show-stopping centerpiece has got to be “The Discover of Innocence is its Loss (Wide open)”; which hauntingly kind of reminded me of Kate Chopin’s tragic novel The Awakening about sex and suicide, but thankfully steers things in a more auspicious direction with some delicious melody and hook. AMAARA’s humanistic conscious surfaces on “New Love’s Mortal Coil”: “It’s gonna be a hard road baby when it falls apart / When all you were wanting was a fresh start”. Somehow, though, this compassion never comes across as anything but an attitude to great, rhythmic music: she undergirds her bits of calamity with professional-grade musicology, so that those complaints seem like water under the bridge.

12 Joell Ortiz & L’Orange – Signature

It’s a good feeling, I have to admit, being 40 and still hearing a new album by a rapper who’s older than me and who’s really bringing it, really immersed in the projects, genre, craft. Seasoned Brooklyn vet Joell Ortiz teams up with L’Orange here for piping-hot, sample-fueled beats to frame some rugged street diction and some good sociological perspective, while we’re at it. Half the time, to be honest, the puns, slang and references come too rapidly for me to even really notice, a strident breath of fresh air in this era of repeating the same dipsh** mantra 16 times and calling it a chorus. So it’s a throwback to the ’90s from an emcee who sounds hungry and even relates decades of being “underrated,” which is easy to allow from this verbose, glove-tight final product.

11 seablite – Lemon Lights

Seablite comprise the female half of my little hare-brained 2023 twee pop revival I’m proffering here, hailing from across the bay in San Francisco and gliding along under Lauren Matsui’s delicate, celestial vocals. Song titles like “Smudge Was a Fly” indicate a lively, edgy sense of humor, and the mix on these songs has a precocious way of ballooning into full rock, with the bass channel amped up robustly on these gems and lilting organ backing the band’s full-on guitar arsenal. The greatness of this album lies in its consistency: it’s like a masterful slow burn of a full-bodied rock album, with the gorgeous vocals somehow always coming off as genuine and ignited with feeling, as on “Pot of Boiling Water”; which refreshingly rests on a rare minor chord.

10 Tschiss Lopes – Stranger Ja Catem Traboi

Upon further reading on this album, I find that it was recorded back in the ’80s, and in ’23 got the 40-anniversary treatment, typically a disqualifier from this list. I’m choosing to go ahead with it anyway, though, partly because I’m craving a new reggae artist in my collection who even looks uncannily like Bob Marley, and partly because I think this guy deserves it. This album is so full of personality and originality that it, indeed, divorced from the concept of epoch — these are rhythms and expressions that have existed in our subconsciouses all the while anyway, so the point of its genesis is almost immaterial. The excellent essential track has got to be “Go to the School”; which has that amusing way of utilizing the English language with a foreign tongue with simple, direct force, and mixing mourning with musical motifs of joy and freedom.

9 Stro Elliot – La Villa

LA DJ Stro Elliot comes live and direct this year with a vital, kinetic little platoon of beats christened La Villa, which means “the town” in Spanish. And, indeed, the vibe is pretty intimate and personal, more aligned for a barbecue or a stoned video game session than, say, the club, or any type of enterprise dealing with big-shots or celebrities. And fly under the radar Elliot sure does, but the rhythmic crispness and chilled-out focus of these cuts remind me of his fellow Hispanic DJ Nobody, another favorite of mine known for laying down some crunchy, psychedelic dance music. And, again, consistency is the earmark — all of these tracks ultimately meld together as one cohesive whole, and you’re guaranteed to put the album on and forget about it for 40 minutes, lost in its hypnotic grooves.

8 Purelink – Signs

Right away, you might say, the enigmatic quirks abound with these Purelink characters. The band’s Bandcamp photo lists Brooklyn as their base but the bio cites Chicago. The name is spelled “Purelink” but they’ve got little dice letters spelling out “Plurlink” in their cover photo. And they’re a trio with no expressed instrumentation, that I could gather from their page, issuing the kind of ambient IDM typically handled by one person on his or her computer. So think of them as a Pearl Jam electronica supergroup (that oughta win them a lot of hipster friends) — democracy breeds ideas and Signs is an LP packed wall to wall with undulating textures and shifting moods. “4K Murmurs feat. J” is a standout, all surreal and entrancing with bevy of subtle, physical sounds. This probably isn’t music for staying up late and driving to at night.

7 Ricardo Dias Gomes – Muito Sol

Muito Sol is certainly a one-of-a-kind beast, bellowing from Rio De Janeiro multi-instrumentalist and composer Ricardo Dias Gomes. Most of the album masquerades as haunting, midtempo jazz, which makes “Fllux” all the more disorienting, an instrumental bass-synth dirge indulging in sound for sound’s own sake and kind of resembling some descent into a weird, subterranean alien realm (very X-Files-ey, in other words). “Um Dia”; then, is a benchmark in instrumental psychedelic rock, granted a worldly vibe by the presence of bongos and seeming to invite in every sound under the sun for a groove that still stays ambient, chill and melancholy. Muito Sol is mature past its years, undoubtedly, and for this reason might make for a difficult listen for some people, but mainstays itself with emotional authenticity and musical depth for a document that’s sure to influence many to come.

6 Amadeus360 – The MPC Jedi

The first Google search result on Brooklyn beatmaker Amadeus360 other than pages that offer solely audio is the Bandcamp page on this very album. Am I introducing him to the world? Ok, that might be a stretch, but he brings an all-star arsenal to the focused, angry, toothy The MPC Jedi (given of course some tongue-in-cheek nerdiness in that title there) and this LP is airtight with fresh, rampant bars and phat beats. Underrated veteran Ras Kass is always a nasal-throated lynchpin, as on opener “How the Block Sound”; but the real shocker has gotta be the introduction of Sticky Fingaz, from the Eminem joint “Remember Me”; and even a sample of when he spits “I got the soul of every rapper in me” on that tune. This project trots along, in general, like a more purposeful, skilled and knowledgeable Danny Brown reincarnation: full of personality and verve but also ready to bust caps at any point.

5 Actress – LXXXVIII

As I allude to in my Wilco review from this year, it’s incredibly ironic, frustrating and even dehumanizing to be living in this so-called “age of information” and still be a fan of an old, accomplished artist like this and have the potential to be complete ignorant of when he’s putting an album out. Maybe that’s the problem: there’s just so much info out there that the important stuff gets buried. In the case of this new LP from English DJ Actress, it was featured on Bandcamp as an album of the day, but released to relatively little fanfare aside from that one little post which I might have missed if I weren’t a religious Bandcamp follower. Anyway, part of Actress’ appeal seems to be what’s apparently his very obsession of restraint: opener “Push Power ( a 1 )” creeps in with a defiant lack of ostentation and excessive energy, creeping along almost like an ulterior, stoned-out species become musical and even misanthropic. “Hit That Spdiff ( b 8 )” is completely otherworldly, with piano runs giving in to these precocious, futuristic synth blips that kind of sound like a grocery store cash register doing weird things. It’s this way of taking his chops and molding them into something resembling musique concrete that, in part, gives Actress his incredible artistic stature these days.

4 Raw Poetic & Damu the Fudgemunk – Away back in

My second-ranked hip-hop album on this list pumps in with some beats that seem just a little more organic, with that rustic, garage-y snare sound, and some grandpa, kid-on-my-lap delivery that’s so classically laid-back, like Common or Talib Kweli in their prime. Here, anyway, it’s D.C. producer Raw Poetic teaming up with Damu the Fudgemunk, an ardent underground-dweller from the same town who raps with this pleasant nonchalance as if he doesn’t even know what commercial success or the mainstream are. In opener “East Side” he slips into singing, from rapping, in the chorus, with complete ease and fluidity, and the result is incredibly approachable and human. Is this the best hip-hop LP ever borne out of the city D.C.? Well, unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly have a lot of competition, and Bad Brains even got “banned from D.C.” back in the ’80s, as myth would purport. The beat to “Numb” is absolutely, completely mind-blowing and insane, with brief electric guitar blips colliding with these gorgeous spliced and overlapping high-hat dubs, for this lounge vibe that’s incredibly jazzy and that harks back to ’70s soul, too, and, I mean, it’s worth it just for the line “Life’s a game of chess / With many connected fours”.

3 Chief Adjuah – Bark out Thunder Roar out Lightning

Chief Adjuah is the artistic moniker of whom was formerly known as Christian Scott, here deviated staunchly from all things “Christian” toward what Bandcamp describes as “ritual practices of the Maroon and Afro-Indigenous Chiefdoms.” So he chooses to make his statement musically, and in general, this album is a mournful stretch of acoustic folk music, meant as a realm of escape, apparently, from capitalism and prevailing American ideals, and an invitation into a more enlightened, informed and harmonious state of mind. It’s a little confusing and oblong to try to parse all the instrumentation at work on this project, so, as an abridgement, I’ll just recite all the instruments assigned just to “Chief Xian aTunde Adjuah himself”: “Vocals, Chielf Adjuah’s Bow, Adjuah’s N’Goni, SPDSX, Pan African Kit, Bells, Tambourine, Percussion, Synth Percussion, Sonic Architecture and Production.” I think there might be some patent complications in here, at many points. “Trouble That Mornin’” a gorgeous, haunting war dirge replete with incessant bongo and some nice, ambient harp (or what sounds like harp) and “Xodokan Iko – Ha Na Ney” samples what according to Google was “a victory chant that the Indians would shout.” I’ll leave the cultural appropriation the historians, I guess, and just administer that this is not an album you’ll ever forget, once you take it in in full.

2 Jlin – Perspective (EP)

I’ve spent so long yammering in discordance to these DJ’s who put out EP’s that I feel incredibly vanquished to find Gary, Indiana’s Jlin, undoubtedly the best in the business, to be furnishing a new extended player that was only blocked from the top spot by a superhuman accomplishment in Detroit hip-hop. I suppose it’s possible, anyway, that this music takes more effort and dedication than I’m realizing — sure, there’s no “production” process, but there’s also no just turning on a four-track and jamming for 20 minutes. Every inch of the playlist is composed of an intricate series of calculated sound missions, making it all the more relieving when “Paradigm” clatters for in such a natural, grooving skin, all nervous and glitchy like an opening track should be, but rhythmic, cathartic and balanced. “Obscure” finds the knob-diva belting out a little more of a “hip-hop” sense than we’re used to with her, with proud, pungent backbeat snares encompassing the outer range of the mix on this busy, sonically absurd bath of uncompromising, incomprehensible jungle-house. And at 27 minutes, Perspective plays like a whole album, with these individual tracks so packed with rhythm and also grating, abrasive treated hat that your nerves will be shot by the end of it. I feel like I just watched the Michigan – Ohio St. game again.

1 Black Milk – Everybody Good?

Nobody who follows my tracks lists should be too shocked by this selection. Still, I had to give credit where credit was due. And, in general, this 2023 list seems sort of like a class reunion, as it’s packed with so many artists I’ve been listening to for like forever — Guided by Voices, Queens of the Stone Age, The New Pornographers, The Hives, Long Beach Dub Allstars, Actress, to name a few.

Black Milk is usually a grower. It took me a while to get into Tronic, with all its virile verbal hubris, to Album of the Year, with its musical depth and rich melancholy, and No Poison No Paradise, with its directness of tough-love ghetto statements. For whatever reason, I really cottoned on to Everybody Good? right from the start, like I did with Fever — something about those synth intervals in that opener “God Willing”; and that BASS SOUND, like an unprecedented permutation of human development, Ja Morant hurdling Kevin Love for a tomahawk jam. And Milk’s flow sounds crisper than ever, in verbal calisthenics, dispatching straight from Detroit, which, if it ain’t the birthplace of hip-hop, is definitely where it lost its virginity.

And I know it’s clichéd by now but the verbal quips come so rapid-fire, like on Joell Ortiz, that I’d rather not even trace them — I’d rather just sit back and enjoy the larger whole. I mean, knowing this guy, he’s liable to surprise me, like Solemn Brigham or Kendrick Lamar, when they issue a consecutive string of diction items only to negate that dictum set at the end of the verse with some quick satirizing.

With how much classic Black Milk has bequeathed to us in his two-decade career, I’m tempted to put together some sort of “best-of” playlist. At the same time, though, Everybody Good? plays as just that: it FEELS like the coming-to-a-head of everything he’s been doing all these years, with everything more PRONOUNCED — the rhyming, the gospel and soul influence feeding into the beats, the rhythmic genius and sense of syncopation in the beats, but, more than anything, the feeling of PURPOSEFULNESS, as if this is really the nucleus of American music, today, and in this century as a larger whole. And all parts feed the larger whole and just when you think the whole operation is nothing but a noxious, impasse, the artist reminds you that music, truly, at its heart, is a celebration.

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