From what I can tell, this list is not like many others (#1 pick notwithstanding). I'd love to have seen more people talking about Veda Hille, Michael Kiwanuka, Eric Bachmann, Tami Neilson, The Comet is Coming, Black Mountain, Nels Cline, Glauco Venier, Paul Simon, Lizzo, Hidden Cameras and Jim Bryson, as well as many more great records found at the bottom of the main list. 2016 gave me panic attacks and made me think more about my mortality than at any time in my life, but at least there was no shortage of great music.
Some of these blurbs ran over two columns in the Waterloo Record, some ran on Macleans.ca.
1.
Beyoncé – Lemonade (Sony). This is the only album that drove the collective
conversation in 2016—and deservedly so. It’s the rare blockbuster pop album by
a superstar that prompts political headlines, endless think pieces and taps
directly into the zeitgeist in ways we haven’t seen in decades. It was also the
first time the seemingly untouchable goddess appeared human, vulnerable, even
vindictive, just as flawed as the rest of us. That came through not only in the
lyrics but her vocal delivery, which was far more emotionally raw than she’s
ever shown us. The cast of A-list collaborators gives the record an eclectic
yet still consistent musical vision that by no means diminishes who exactly is
in charge here: one queen to rule them all.
2.
Veda Hille – Love Waves (independent). The Vancouver art-pop songwriter writes melodies that
could sell a musical (which she’s done, to great acclaim), has the gall and the talent to
rewrite and (gasp) improve her favourite songs by David Bowie and Brian Eno,
employs many of Vancouver’s finest players, pens a plaintive ode to her young
boy and reimagines the ordeal of Orpheus and Eurydice—in German, no less. Oh, and
she’s wickedly funny when she wants to be. There’s no end to her insatiable
curiosity—or her talent. (Original review here.)
3.
Kaytranada – 99.9% (XL). The year’s weirdest success story also spawned one of the best records: 23-year-old bedroom-dwelling Haitian-Montrealer known for
SoundCloud remixes pulls in up-and-coming international collaborators
(Anderson.Paak, AlunaGeorge), almost-forgotten R&B and hip-hop artists
(Craig David, Phonte), and new Toronto beatmakers (BadBadNotGood, River Tiber)
and ends up creating the straight-up funkiest record to come out of
Canada—perhaps ever, winning the Polaris Music Prize in the process. It’s draws
from old school hip-hop, jazz fusion, Brazilian beats, Donna Summer disco,
house music, DJ Shadow deconstruction, and anything else that sounds fantastic
on the dance floor. Drake may have dominated the charts and the headlines, but
Kaytranada made the infinitely superior—and much more fun—record. (Original
review here. My take on his Polaris win here.)
4.
Leonard Cohen – You Want It Darker (Sony). Frankly, Leonard, I’m not sure we did
want it darker; 2016 turned out bleaker than we could ever have imagined (and
it’s not over yet). It was enough that Cohen left us with one final masterpiece
before he died, but his death proved to be a gift that gave us reason to
re-examine his entire catalogue in a year when we were grasping for a glimpse
of any light through the cracks. Unlike the elliptical Bowie record, You Want It Darker dealt specifically
with death, with finality—and it was also funny, characteristically so. But
there were no more chilling words sung (or spoken) this year than Cohen
intoning, “I’m ready, my Lord.” (Original review here. My obit for him in Maclean’s here. I curated some memories of him from
ordinary Canadians here.)
5.
David Bowie – Blackstar (Sony). Even before his death shocked the world, this was
already being hailed as his best album in (gulp) more than 30 years, one in
which he fully embraced the influence of his hero, Scott Walker, and joined
forces with Donny McCaslin’s powerful jazz band. Coy devil that he is, on Jan.
10 the always-innovative Bowie was also the first person to tell us that, other
than music, 2016 was going to be a steaming pile of shit. (Original review
here. My obit for him in Maclean’s here.)
6.
The Tragically Hip – Man Machine Poem (Universal). Gord Downie was a newsmaker of the year
for staring down death and delivering a series of triumphs, but least discussed
among them was the fact that the newest Tragically Hip album was alone a reason
to celebrate. Written and recorded before Downie’s diagnosis, and co-produced
by Broken Social Scene’s Kevin Drew, it was a reinvention that could well have
turned over a new leaf in the legendary band’s catalogue—and still might.
Downie claims it’s not the last we’ll hear from them. (Original review here. My story on the Hip’s farewell and
legacy for Maclean’s here. My review of the “final” show here. My year-end piece for Maclean’s Newsmakers here.)
7.
A Tribe Called Quest – We Got It From Here… Thank You 4 Your Service
(Sony). It wasn’t just Baby
Boomers dying off; Phife Dawg was a mere 45 years old when he succumbed to
diabetes, just after completing Tribe’s first album in 18 years. Both he and
Q-Tip, neither of whom had prolific solo careers, proved they’d lost none of
their potency and elevated their already-strong status as legends, not by
emulating their glory days but by looking forward. Also: what a glorious thing it was to hear an actual rap group play off each other, as opposed to random guest verses on a superstar's record. It's a lost art. (Original review here.)
8.
Michael Kiwanuka – Love and Hate (Universal). This British soul singer transformed
his unassuming, folkie take on soul into the realm of the psychedelic, crafting
a devastatingly beautiful respite in troubled times. The sound is undeniably
retro—Nick Drake fronting Pink Floyd, or Marvin Gaye fronting Funkadelic—but
never goes out of style. Nor should it. (Original review here.)
9.
Eric Bachmann – s/t (Merge). Bachmann has been one of my favourite writers for more than 20 years
(Archers of Loaf, Crooked Fingers), but it was his 2016 song “Mercy”—haunted by
personal loss, impending apocalypse, and intense political divisions—that might
well be his crowning moment, and was the one song I played more than any other in 2016, for obvious reasons. The rest this self-titled album is just as strong
and heartbreaking (starting with “Modern Drugs”), a collection of perfectly
crafted songs that pick up pieces of a shattered psyche. (Original review here.)
10.
Anderson.Paak – Malibu (Steel Wool). This late bloomer (okay, he’s 30) is a studio veteran
and multi-instrumentalist whose second album easily staked his claim in a
crowded field of R&B reinventors. Malibu owes musical debts to D’Angelo,
Erykah Badu and Kendrick Lamar, but with a considerably more joyous vibe—it’s
no surprise that he also shows up on Kaytranada’s record. Miguel should watch
his back. (Original review here.)
11.
Tami Neilson – Don’t Be Afraid (Outside). No, really, one more record about
death: this one by a Canadian expat in New Zealand, writing about her late
father, the patriarch of a family band that toured Canada in her youth. Don’t
Be Afraid is emotionally deeper than anything Neilson has done to date,
which was well-executed but decidedly retro, bordering on kitsch. Not this
time. The deeper she goes into the blues, the better she gets. Neilson’s voice
has few equals in this country—k.d. lang? Serena Ryder?—and has to be heard to
be believed, when she’s either hollering gospel (“Holy Moses”) or delivering a
gorgeous country ballad (“Lonely”). (Original review here. Live review for Maclean’s here.)
12.
The Comet is Coming – Channel
the Spirits (Leaf). Led by saxophonist
Shabaka Hutchings, this London trio’s debut is a synth-heavy, percussive,
interplanetary psychedelic journey that lives up to titles like “Cosmic Dust”
and “Slam Dunk in a Black Hole.” The New Musical Express dubbed the band “the
Mercury Prize’s least-known nominee”—they were shortlisted alongside Bowie,
Radiohead, Kiwanuka and other heavy hitters (and lost to Skepta). There’s
nothing obscurist about them; this would go over like gangbusters in a Canadian
rock club on a bill with Holy F--k and BadBadNotGood. (Original review here.)
13.
Black Mountain – IV. If any rock record in the history of this country has a more powerful
opening track than “Mothers of the Sun,” I’m not sure what that would be. A
pulsing synth, a droning organ, a monster guitar riff, and the chilling vocals
of Amber Webber and Stephen McBean keep us in suspense for more than three
minutes before drummer Josh Wells kicks in to kick things into overdrive on
what is an incredibly satisfying psychedelic rock record that never fizzles
into pointless jam territory. McBean’s guitar solos are lyrical and evocative
of Funkadelic great Eddie Hazel, but it’s Jeremy Schmidt’s keyboards that steal
this show. (Original review here.)
14.
Nels Cline – Lovers (Blue Note). The lead guitarist in Wilco appears on more than 200 records by others; his
solo work, until now, has largely been experimental and skronky. On Lovers,
his debut for the prestigious Blue Note label, however, he delivers a double
album of love songs by composers ranging from Richard Rodgers and Henry Mancini
to Arto Lindsay and Sonic Youth, along with original compositions. Lovers
is lushly orchestrated, utilizing some of New York City’s most renowned
avant-garde players, yet allows for plenty of abstraction and colouring far
outside the lines, alongside more straightforward, classically beautiful
performances. Though it never gets loud, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get
deliciously weird. (Original
review here.)
15.
Glauco Venier – Miniatures: Music for Piano and Percussion (ECM). Many were the days when headlines made me
want to bury my head in the sand. For those days, this prolific
Italian pianist—who normally performs in a trio format, studied Italian
Renaissance music, and has recorded albums covering Tom Waits and Frank
Zappa—offers sparse compositions and improvisations augmented by gongs, bells
and other metallic instruments. Only two of the 14 tracks are uptempo; the
majority are meditative yet melodic, not sparse enough to be ambient music, but
played with a delicacy and somewhat cautious deliberation. (Original review here.)
16. Paul Simon – Stranger to Stranger (Universal). "The fact is, most obits are mixed reviews." When his day comes, that's going to be as true of Paul Simon as anyone else, but at least he's still here, even if he's strongly hinting this will be his last album. He sounds far from spent. He's still borrowing from wherever he can, including a young Italian DJ, but, as always, there's no sense he's trying to shoehorn himself into something he can't turn around and make his own. He can write circles around his peers or descendents, even if no one seems to care anymore; the man can't even get a Grammy nomination these days, even though those seem to get handed out like participation stickers. Stranger to Stranger, indeed. (Original review here.)
17.
Badbadnotgood – IV. Space-age bachelor pad music from a jazz band steeped in hip-hop and
joined by guest singers, including Future Islands’ Sam Herring, Chicago MC Mick Jenkins and Toronto
newcomer Charlotte Day Wilson (Kaytranada and Colin Stetson stop by as well).
This band gets better with each record, and the permanent addition of
saxophonist Leland Whittly pushes them even further. Also—for the love of God, don't judge this album by its cover. (Original review here.)
18. Lizzo – Coconut Oil EP (Universal). “I’m lit / don’t mess with it,” says Lizzo, on a track where she demands
that you “worship me.” She doesn’t need to ask twice. Lizzo is as strong a
rapper as she is a singer—and she’s one hell of a singer, which puts her on the
level with Lauryn Hill, Queen Latifah and Nicki Minaj right off the top. One of
the last new artists to be taken under Prince’s wing before his death, Lizzo is
equally political and playful, a feminist who rolls with an all-female crew, a
plus-size woman pushing body positivity, and whose music fuses old-school
hip-hop with modern trap, with Latino elements and nods to James Brown
interspersed throughout. After two promising independent records, this is her
major-label debut, six songs with producer Ricky Reed (Pitbull, Meghan Trainor)
that strip everything down to the pop basics and set her on a path to stardom:
expect to see her everywhere, starting with her own MTV show (Wonderland). (Original review here.)
19.
Hidden Cameras – Home on Native Land. Joel Gibb’s Hidden Cameras inspired Arcade Fire’s
debut album, brought a queer aesthetic into a straight-laced indie scene, and
went full-on electro on their last album. Here, however, Gibb goes full-on
country, which suits both his songwriting and his voice. He throws in a few
covers—including a take on “Dark End of the Street” that places the classic soul song
in a closeted context, and a joyous romp through “Log Driver’s Waltz” with Feist, Rufus Wainwright and Mary
Margaret O’Hara—but it’s his originals that serve as a reminder of his unique
talent. (Original review here.)
20.
Jim Bryson – Somewhere We Will Find Our Place. On the surface, this Ottawa
singer-songwriter (and sideman to Kathleen Edwards, the Weakerthans and
Tragically Hip) writes pleasant, sad-sack Ontario folk-rock (one of my default
favourite genres). But his interest in synths and experience doing production
work on the side—as well as bringing in Broken Social Scene’s Charles Spearin
as a collaborator, and Shawn Everett (Grammy-winning Alabama Shakes
engineer)—informs the expanded sonic palette heard here, which provide vivid colours
to his tales of disconnection and ennui. (Original review here.)
Runners-up:
Donovan Woods – Hard
Settle, Ain’t Troubled (Meant Well) (Original review here. This too grew on me considerably.)
