Best of 2018

1. U.S. Girls – In a Poem Unlimited (Royal Mountain/4AD)

There’s no reason pop music should be “important.” But when an artist hits that sweet spot between great songs, catchy melodies, solid grooves, top-notch production and lyrics seeped in empathy that also fume with fury and challenge listener’s assumptions—well, that’s perfection. U.S. Girls, which has evolved from Meg Remy’s solo bedroom project into a brilliant band that encapsulates a tiny corner of Toronto’s creative community, not only made a brilliant record that sounds timeless, but also a record that encapsulates 2018: rage against rampant misogyny, writ large (“Pearly Gates”) and small (“Velvet 4 Sale”); questioning the legacy of political heroes (“M.A.H.”); the personal toll of environmental destruction (“Rage of Plastics”); yadda yadda yadda (“We all know what’s right … so what are we going to do to change?”). That Remy does this inside slinky pop songs that sound better every single time you spin them makes In a Poem Unlimited an absolute triumph. On top of all that, her live band is killer, and her a cappella gospel ensemble performance at the Polaris Music Prize gala was one for the ages. This poem is indeed unlimited. Original review here.

2. Low – Double Negative (Sub Pop)

In one of the best punk singles released in this year of incredible corruption and distortion of truth and dissolution of shame, Superchunk sang about how “to see the rot in no disguise / oh, what a time to be alive.” On one of the year’s best albums, Low sang about “Always Trying To Work It Out” while the lead vocal mutated and warped over guitars and electronics distorted beyond recognition, morphing and mutating over a steady floor-tom pulse; only drummer Mimi Parker’s backing vocal holds fast as a single source of purity in what otherwise sounds like beauty and purity rotting before our ears. Twelve albums into their career, Low is still challenging itself and scaring the crap out of everyone else. Double Negative sounds the way 2018 felt. Which makes it a shoo-in for this year’s time capsule. Original review here.

3. TuneYards – I Can Feel You Creep Into My Private Life (4AD)

Much like US Girls, TuneYards tackles many modern woes: social alienation, the perils of technology, California wildfires, the bubble of white privilege, colonial co-option of music of stories—you know, all the fun stuff. Oddly enough, Merrill Garbus and company do have a lot of fun, and manage to make all this a part of a wild dance party that’s largely delivered just by the duo of Garbus and right-hand man Nate Brenner. This Private Life has a plethora of layers, both musical and lyrical, in which one can dive in deep while dancing down the street. Original review here.

4. Jeremy Dutcher – Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa (independent)

Yes, part of the appeal of this Polaris Prize-winning record is that there is literally nothing else like it in the world: an opera singer and pianist who sings exclusively in an almost-forgotten North American Indigenous language spoken by fewer than 100 people in the modern age. But concept aside, it’s also simply a powerful and emotional listening experience, listening to Dutcher dance with the ghosts of his elders. Small wonder he’s smashing barriers left, right and centre, and finding a global audience of music fans for his hyperlocal history project. Original review here.

5. Bonjay – Lush Life (Mysteries of Trade)

If Lush Life contained only the unadorned vocals of Alanna Stuart, it would still be on this list—for she delivers the most shiver-inducing, knockout vocal performance of the year on this record. But it’s the music here, co-written with Bonjay’s other half, Ian Swain, that truly transforms Stuart’s vocal skills into a killer pop record that, at times, sounds like Kate Bush making a shockingly successful stab at dancehall, produced by Bjork in a pre-dawn Berlin. And yet: it sounds so fully and completely Toronto at the same time. Original review here.

6. Lotic – Power (Tri Angle)

This sound sculptor is a trans Texan woman living in Berlin. Needless to say, their music crosses borders effortlessly, finding exquisite beauty in off-kilter or even scarred sounds, borrowing equally from the avant-garde side of trap hip-hop, neo-classical composition and the icy edges of European minimal techno. Original review here.

7. Dennis Ellsworth – Things Change (independent)

Singer-songwriters rarely cut it for me anymore—unless they’re this good. This Charlottetown record-store clerk is a prolific guy with plenty of pleasant-enough albums, but he knocks it out of the park here, with the help of producer Joel Plaskett. Twelve songs in 40 minutes, staving off one midlife crisis after another, each encapsulating all the best singles of ’90s indie rock and alt-country, enough to make Jeff Tweedy jealous. “Life is cruel but beautiful,” goes my favourite song here, one that’s been on constant repeat since the first day I heard it. Easily the most underrated record of the year. Original review here.

8. Cadence Weapon – s/t (EOne)

Most MCs are more than happy to talk primarily about themselves; Cadence Weapon, on the other hand, is an astute observer and portrait painter: of people, of music scenes, of urban ennui. His lyrical game has a poet’s eye, one that continues to improve with age, but it’s the musical vision here that’s truly captivating. Birthed in both Montreal and Toronto, the music here is big, bass-y and bold, hip-hop informed by EDM trends without ever succumbing to the noisy, ham-handed clichés of that genre. It’s also diverse: no two tracks here sound the same, which is a rarity these days in albums of any genre. Original review here.

9. Sons of Kemet – Your Queen is a Reptile (Impulse)

Saxophonist Shabaka Hutchings has been a light in London’s jazz scene in recent years, fronting several bands and floating just under the radar—until now, with Sons of Kemet’s debut for venerable label Impulse, and a spot on the Mercury Prize shortlist. Backed up by a tuba player and two drummers, Hutchings delivers one breathtaking performance after another, drawing from New Orleans funk to reggae to Mingus swing to hip-hop to wherever the rhythm takes him and his cohorts. They’re brilliant at raising the roof; it’s the quieter moments here that are more surprising, and make for a well-rounded record. Plus, the song titles send you scurrying down wormholes of Black history. Original review here.

10. Anna Calvi – Hunter (Domino)

Calvi is a close runner-up to Bonjay’s Alanna Stuart for delivering the vocal performance of the year, displaying an operatic breadth over dramatic art-pop that draws from a template seemingly specified to British music in 1997-98: Radiohead’s OK Computer, PJ Harvey’s Is This Desire, Portishead’s Dummy, Bjork’s Homogenic. But if the musical template sounds familiar, Calvi’s vocals take everything to a whole other plane, bending gender stereotypes at every turn. She’s also a killer guitarist, and her drummer is a perfect match. Original review here.

11. Janelle Monae – Dirty Computer (Universal)

“If the world should end tonight / I had a crazy, classic life.” Sure sounds like it: Monae is a consummate entertainer, especially now that she’s dropped the more robotic elements of her “Arch-Android” persona. Dirty Computer delivers on all the promise she’s ever shown; we always hear about who’s supposed to be the new Michael Jackson, a debate that Monae can easily put to rest. Original review here.

2. Hubert Lenoir – Darlène (Simone)

The first three tracks on this Québécois francophone’s debut move from jazz to glam rock to metal, and the rest is just as successfully eclectic. This kid has total starpower, the talent to back it up, and the curiosity that will ensure a long career. This is just the start. Extra points for the tenor saxophone, which U.S. Girls also put to good use this year. Original review here.

13. La Force – s/t (Arts and Crafts)

In 2013, Ariel Engle made my favourite record that year as one-half of AroarA (with Broken Social Scene’s Andrew Whiteman). La Force is her solo debut, and it’s a stunner: her haunting vocals sing torch melodies and droning folk songs over syncopated rhythms and new wave textures. Original review here.

14. Neneh Cherry – Broken Politics (Smalltown Supersound)

Neneh Cherry has had many phases of her 30-year career: pop star, African music explorer, midwife to Massive Attack, collaborator with FourTet and free jazz trio The Thing. All those sides of her unite on this, her second album with FourTet, moving easily through a variety of moods and genres.

15. Fucked Up – Dose Your Dreams (Arts and Crafts/Merge)

As someone who only ever enjoyed this hardcore punk band in the smallest of doses—despite their oft-grandiose, artsy ambitions—I fell hard for this opus, which delivers the kind of musical diversity they’ve always strived for, complete with many guest vocalists lifting the weight off Damian Abraham. This is the album they’ve been aiming to make all these years. Original review here.

16. Zaki Ibrahim – The Secret Life of Planets (independent)

With both Ibrahim and Neneh Cherry putting out albums in 2018, here’s hoping they get a chance to meet, play some shows together, and trade notes, because they’re very much cut from the same cloth. Though she shares Cherry’s jazzy bent, Ibrahim has a thing for classic synths that sets her apart from elders or the new crop of nouveau R&B singers. This record sums up why I once dubbed her approach “sci-fi soul,” a descriptor she’s taken to heart. Original review here.

17. Onyx Collective – Lower East Side Part Three (Ninja Tune)

This NYC jazz ensemble is known for popping up in random spots all over the city, so it’s apt that this record sounds like it was made in a subway station, both sonically and for the raw energy and conversational tone between the players. This is the antithesis of smooth jazz, but neither is it abrasive or deliberately challenging. Isaiah Barr’s saxophone is a siren’s call that draws you deep into a dance with the rhythm section. Before you know it, you’ve missed your train and learned a valuable lesson: the journey is more important than the destination. Original review here.

18. Richard Reed Parry – Quiet River of Dust Part One (Arts and Crafts/Anti)

A member of one of the world’s biggest rock bands wants you to simmer down and immerse yourself in a two-part concept album (the second instalment drops on March 21) about life, death, and the liminal space between the two. It doesn’t sound that good on paper; thankfully, it does on record—and even more so live. Parry shies away from the term “psychedelic folk,” but that pretty much sums up this amalgam of very early Pink Floyd, Brian Eno, Arthur Russell, Caribou, and those very tiny parts of Animal Collective that aren’t inherently terrible. This is the kind of record that will suspend time—if you let it. Original review here.

19. Rae Spoon – Bodiesofwater (Coax)

I’m a sucker for artists who hit their stride on the other side of 40, and Rae Spoon is one. Bodiesofwater finds the Western Canadian artist chock full of pop hooks and interesting arrangements that draw from between indie rock, folk-country and electronic textures. “Do Whatever the Heck You Want” is an irresistible earworm of affirmation, while “You Don’t Do Anything” is the sharpest political song of the year, next to Steven Page’s “White Noise.” Original review here.

20. Jack White – Boarding House Reach (Sony)

This is just so delightfully batshit crazy. The Jack White I love best is when he really doesn’t give a shit and just lets loose. Also: if Beasties besties Mike D and Ad Rock ever feel like kicking out some new jams, they should give White a call. Original review here.

Tribute acts—as good or better than the originals: 

Angelique Kidjo – Remain in Light (Kravenworks). In which a modern African artist reimagines the Talking Heads’ greatest album and recasts it with a decidedly modern bent that crosses just as many borders as the original. In doing so, Kidjo also illuminates subtexts and prescient points in David Byrne’s original lyrics. This is essential listening that works on several levels—including just pure pleasure.  Original review here.

Meshell Ndgeocello – Ventriloquism (Naive). Lots of people cover pop and rock songs from the ’80s and ’90s, but Ndgeocello illustrates that the R&B of the time was also full of solid songwriting that transcends time, even if the names Al B. Sure and Ralph Tresvant and Force MDs don’t get bandied about much anymore. Yes, there are songs here by Prince, Sade, Tina Turner and Janet Jackson, but they don’t stand out any taller from the many underrated gems here, and Ndgeocello breathes welcome life into each equally. 

Reissues:

Alanis Obomsawin – Bush Lady (Constellation).

I didn’t even know the legendary filmmaker was a musician until relatively recently. Seeing the then-85-year-old play a 15-minute set solo, with just a drum, at the National Arts Centre as part of a Native North America gathering this past February, was, quite simply, one of the most mesmerizing and inspiring performances I’ve ever seen in my life. This woman exudes otherworldly charisma in the same way Patti Smith, Bjork, PJ Harvey, Nick Cave or Gord Downie all do for me, yet she does so with just her Piaf-like voice and the tiniest of gestures. That this recording sat in her closet for the past 30 years, after a very brief private run, is insane to me. It’s gorgeous, haunting, and vital. Original review here.

Prince – Piano and a Microphone 1983 (Warner).

There is always more to Prince—and there’s always more Prince. This previously unearthed solo set is exactly as advertised, and it’s revelatory in many ways, not the least of which is his skill as a pianist. (Yes, we always knew he could do everything, but hearing him naked here is a whole other trip.) This is hardly for hardcore fans only. Original review here.

2017 albums I fell in love with in 2018:

Snotty Nose Rez Kids –  The Average Savage. Review here.  

Amyl & the Sniffers – Big Attraction. Review here.

Polaris Music Prize, day 3: Pierre Kwenders, Hubert Lenoir

Day three of my annual five-day Polaris preview, examining two shortlisters and two absentees a day:

Pierre Kwenders – Makanda (Bonsound)

The album:

My Sept. 14 review:

This Montreal artist burst onto the scene with 2014’s Le Dernier Empereur Bantou, a multi-lingual, genre-hopping record rooted in Congolese rumba that landed him nominations for the Junos, the Polaris Music Prize, and Quebec’s ADISQs. Born in Kinshasa, Kwenders wanted to dive deeper into his Congolese roots on his second album. To do so, he travelled to Seattle to work with Tendai Baba Maraire, the Zimbabwean-American half of psychedelic hip-hop duo Shabazz Palaces. Makanda moves Kwenders away from modern dance trends and further into mid-tempo polyrhythms. Kwenders is a natural star, but some of the best tracks here are where he cedes the spotlight, sharing it with Shabazz Palaces’ Ishmael Butler on the title track, and duetting with Tanyaradzwa on the lush, string-drenched ballad “Zonga.”

I also wrote about Kwenders, alongside Zaki Ibrahim, Kae Sun and Afrotronix, in an article for the Globe and Mail here.

I wished I liked this record more than I do; I was a huge fan of Empereur Bantou, and voted for it that year on my Polaris ballot. I’m also a big Shabazz Palaces fan, so this should be right up my alley. I can’t even put my finger on what’s missing here for me, but I do know that the mysteriously popular single “Sexus Plexus Lexus” makes me absolutely cringe.  

The chances:

Slim. Happy though I was for Kwenders, I was shocked this made the shortlist. It’s a unique record here, but not in ways that I think will do it any favours in the jury room. Also, this year’s shortlist has some huge heavyweights that will be hard to overshadow.

Hubert Lenoir – Darlène (Simone)

The album:

This 23-year-old put his punk band on hold to make a genre-bending pop album, based on a new novel by his friend Noémie D. Leclerc, where the first five tracks jump from jazz piano to ’70s glam to Black Sabbath to gospel-inspired pop to Fleetwood Mac, with plenty of tenor saxophone all over the arrangements, which occasionally nod to Joe Jackson’s 1984 album Body and Soul. It’s totally bonkers in a way that only the Québecois can pull off—or maybe the Flaming Lips, on a good day. Is it a retro record? Absolutely, but it’s also audacious in its scope, and Lenoir has the songwriting chops, the production values, plenty of earworms and the pure charisma to pull it all off. And yes, francophobes, there is one song in English (“Wild and Free”), so you have no excuse not to start there and then dive deeper.

The chances:

Strong. It’s a great album that gets better with each listen and transcends the retro tag it’s been saddled with. I’ll admit I was initially dismissive, but it quickly grew on me once it shortlisted—and if my experience is true for this year’s grand jurors, then the scent of the new will also propel this further in the jury-room discussion. The fact that it’s the first francophone record to shortlist in seven years also gives it strong underdog appeal.

The shoulda, woulda, coulda:

Cold Specks – Fool’s Paradise (Arts and Crafts)

The album:

My review for the Waterloo Record, Sept. 21, 2017:

A few years ago, I was working at a magazine that ran very little music coverage. A freelancer had successfully pitched a story about struggles facing a new wave of female R&B voices out of Canada: Divine Brown, Melanie Fiona and Jully Black among them. The story started out by talking about Cold Specks, the musical project for a young woman who then called herself Al Spx, who possessed a powerful voice and played stark, haunting music she termed “doom soul.” Wait a minute, I asked the editor: why is Cold Specks in this article? Spx played slow, guitar-based music that has more in common with Nick Cave than Nicki Minaj. Is it because she’s black, one of the few African-Canadian women to have any kind of profile in this country’s music scene? Because otherwise, we’re talking about apples and oranges here.


Two albums and a couple of Polaris nods later, Cold Specks—who dropped the Al Spx pseudonym, and now goes by her birth name, Ladan Hussein—has indeed drawn closer to R&B, although Fool’s Paradise is more Massive Attack than Mary J. Blige. There are barely any guitars: synths and drum programming dominate. The background isn’t necessarily important: as always, it’s Hussein’s voice that draws you in first and foremost, but it does sound even better with some deep bass and beats behind it, situating her somewhere between Sade and Bjork (“Ancient Habits” borrows a bit from Bjork’s “All is Full of Love”), if either artist wrote almost exclusively in minor keys. Hussein also slips into Somali on the title track, acknowledging a family history she once felt she had to mask to make it in the Canadian music industry.If third albums are where an artist really proves themselves—after the potential fluke of a debut, and the transition of a second album—then Cold Specks has most definitely stepped up. The songs are strong, the setting is right, and she’s evolving easily. There’s nothing remotely foolish about Fool’s Paradise.

Why it didn’t even longlist:

What the living hell. This woman shortlisted with her debut album, back in 2013, so it’s not like she’s unknown. But she’s long since abandoned her supposed “doom-folk” genre, and now makes downtempo, synth-ridden R&B—so maybe critics only liked her when she was wielding a guitar? Who knows. In a year where we’re talking about singers like Daniel Caesar and Alanna Stuart, we should also be talking about Ladan Hussein. This album is incredible. I hope it found an audience. It's not too late.

Dennis Ellsworth – Things Change (Pyramid Scheme)

The album:

I had no idea who this P.E.I. songwriter was. I spent a lot of time driving around Ontario in April, and grabbed this CD (yes, CD) off my promo pile and brought it with me. It never left my player. As I reconnected with old friends and family across the province— celebrating a personal triumph while hearing tales of divorce, disease and age—the song “Cruel But Beautiful” was constantly in my head. It hasn’t left, five months later.

An exceprt from my Waterloo Record review:

Right after Bruce Springsteen finished 1987’s Tunnel of Love, he recorded a legendary, long-lost album with fellow New Jerseyites Yo La Tengo, which for its 30^thanniversary in 2018 is finally being—oh, wait, no, that’s not it at all. This is a new record by P.E.I. songwriter Dennis Ellsworth, his fifth.  Ellsworth is a new name to me, as I suspect he is to you—although his last couple of albums came out on Kitchener label Busted Flat, and were produced by either Josh Finlayson (Skydiggers) or David Barbe (Bob Mould’s Sugar), and featured many of my favourite Ontario musicians. This time out, he headed east to Joel Plaskett’s New Scotland Yard studio in Dartmouth, N.S., with other Halifax Pop Explosion veterans Charles Austin and Dave Marsh. So, yes, fans of ’90s indie rock and singer-songwriters will find plenty to love here, with shades of Lucinda Williams and Ryan Adams (or Aimee Mann, or Eric Bachmann, or…). Ellsworth’s songs are as worthy as any found in the canon of those artists: he has an incredibly strong sense of melody, writing songs to be sung at the top of your lungs, whether they’re anthems like “The Bottom” or “Stoned,” or dream pop songs like “Caught in the Waves.” Plaskett once again proves his mettle as a producer—as heard on his own work as well as Mo Kenney and others—giving Ellsworth a gritty rock’n’roll backdrop with rich, Big Star vocal harmonies.

Why it didn’t even longlist:

I’d never heard of him. Have you? Let’s all work on changing that.

Conflict of interest alert: Since falling in love with Ellsworth’s music, I discovered that he also fronts a Tragically Hip cover band in his spare time, the Fabulously Rich. So when I bring my book tour east this fall—the Carleton in Halifax on Oct. 13, and the Charlottetown Beer Garden on Oct. 17—they’ll be performing after my talk. (Full list of events here.)

Tomorrow: Partner, Snotty Nose Rez Kids and two more coulda-woulda-shoulda.

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Polaris shortlist predictions, Hubert Lenoir, Lydia Képinski

There has only ever been one francophone record to win the Polaris Music Prize: Karkwa’s Les Chemins de Verre, in 2010. It’s now been seven years since a francophone record has made the Polaris Music Prize shortlist, when Galaxie’s Tigre et diesel made the cut in 2011. Not even Coeur de Pirate has managed to break through, despite increasingly solid records and a large live draw outside of Quebec. Galaxie put out a pretty solid new record last year, but it didn’t land on the Polaris long list, announced last month. However, seven other francophone records did (as well as an instrumental record by a francophone, Jean-Michel Blais). Of those, I think Hubert Lenoir’s debut album is likely to shortlist, and I would love it if Lydia Képinski would as well.

The shortlist will be announced Tuesday, July 17.

I fully expect Daniel Caesar, Jeremy Dutcher, Lenoir, U.S. Girls and Weaves to shortlist. I’d place money on it. Usually 50% of the list is a relatively easy pick; the rest is a crapshoot.

I think it’s likely that Bonjay, Zaki Ibrahim, Pierre Kwenders and Partner will also shortlist, along with one record from the acoustic/songwriter contingent that will be either the Weather Station, Donovan Woods, or Jennifer Castle.

I’m basing these predictions on general chatter among Polaris jurors, as well as demographics and past history of voting patterns; there’s nothing scientific going on here. Sometimes the silent majority surprises me and a more mainstream pick makes the list: this year that would be either Alvvays or Gord Downie. Less likely silent majority picks would be Arcade Fire, Bahamas or Sloan.

I would love to be pleasantly surprised and see Cadence Weapon, Képinski or Terra Lightfoot make the shortlist. There’s also an extremely long shot that we might be talking about Vancouver hip-hop crew the Snotty Nose Rez Kids this time next week.

Anyway, back to the francophones. Among the long listed artists, I’ve been a fan of Kwenders for a while (I prefer his debut to this new one, though I’m in the minority there), and both the rapper Loud and Mélissa Laveaux (a Haitian-Canadian now living in Paris) are impressive. But these two debut records really blew me away–eventually, mind you, as they’re both growers. Give them your time.

These reviews will appear in the Waterloo Region Record on Friday July 13.

Hubert Lenoir – Darlène (Simone)

This 23-year-old put his punk band on hold to make a genre-bending pop album, based on a new novel by his friend Noémie D. Leclerc, where the first five tracks jump from jazz piano to ’70s glam to Black Sabbath to gospel-inspired pop to Fleetwood Mac, with plenty of tenor saxophone all over the arrangements, which occasionally nod to Joe Jackson’s 1984 album Body and Soul. It’s totally bonkers in a way that only the Québecois can pull off—or maybe the Flaming Lips, on a good day. Is it a retro record? Absolutely, but it’s also audacious in its scope, and Lenoir has the songwriting chops, the production values, plenty of earworms and the pure vocal charisma to pull it all off. I listened to this record for months before I sought out any video—and it turns out this androgynous singer has major starpower as well. And yes, francophobes, there is one song in English (“Wild and Free”), so you have no excuse not to start there and then dive deeper.

Stream: “Fille de personne II,” “Ton hotel,” “J-C”

Lydia Képinski – Premier juin (independent)

This 24-year-old Montrealer won the $10,000 Francouvertes prize last year for a new Quebec artist. Listening to her debut, it’s more than obvious why: she’s a fully-formed songwriter whose melodies verve in unusual directions, while her music rarely subscribes to conventional chord progressions and her arrangements combine the sparseness of indie-rock solo performers with lush arrangements and rich electronics—both of which are used sparingly. The focus is on Képinski’s remarkably nuanced and assured vocals. All of this displays not just remarkable talent, but a self-assuredness and confidence rarely heard on a debut record. This artist arrives as a complete package, sounding like she’s already conquered the world, even if the world doesn’t quite know it yet.

Stream: “Les routes indolores,” “Premier juin,” “Maïa”