Polaris predictions 2021

The Polaris Music Prize is always big deal to me, but this year, I don't have a lot of time to dive deep, for myriad reasons. 

Apparently neither does anyone else: with the exception of event sponsor CBC Music (now run by Polaris founder Steve Jordan), I'm not sure I've seen a single piece anywhere analyzing the shortlist. A shortlist, by the way, that for the first time doesn't have any white men on it—coincidence? A nation's culture reveals itself by the stories it can't be bothered to tell. Are editors increasingly allergic to Polaris the less white, the more left-field it gets?! I say this every year, but why doesn't Polaris get the same media attention as the Giller prize for literature, which features just as many underdogs? 

Whether or not anyone is writing about Polaris this year, I'm happy it's championing the music that it is. 

If the shortlist was entirely up to me, a 50-year-old white man in Toronto, it would look like this:

Alias Ensemble - A Splendour of Heart. An unbelievably gorgeous folk record, with exceptional playing and a stunning presence in singer Kelly Sloan. Available only on Bandcamp.

Kathleen Edwards - Total Freedom. Career best?

Rochelle Jordan - Play With the Changes. Retrofuturist R&B by this L.A.-via-Toronto artist, who's graduated from "most promising" to simply great. One of my favourite summer records of 2021.

Daniel Lanois - Heavy Sun. Career best?

Mustafa - When Smoke Rises. Actually on the real shortlist! See below.

Nyssa - Girls Like Me. This woman's voice is a total powerhouse: both physically and lyrically. Anthems for the new era. Few pop records in the last year have made me long for live audiences more than this one.

Allison Russell - Outside Child. The music is deceptively gorgeous; the lyrics are chilling and haunting. An incredibly powerful record, and the one I truly wish had made the shortlist so that more people here would hear it. Russell is doing very well in her adopted hometown of Nashville, however, with the likes of Brandi Carlile and Jason Isbell singing her praises—and loudly.

Leanne Betasamosake Simpson - Theory of Ice. Actually on the real shortlist! See below.

Julian Taylor - The Ridge. I've long respected Taylor as a singer, guitarist and all-around good guy in the Toronto club scene. Confession: I never loved his music. But this solo record (as opposed to his eponymous band) has become his most critically acclaimed to date (beyond borders, too), and it's no surprise why. It's a beautiful acoustic folk record that would make Jim Cuddy jealous, Taylor-made for Canadian campfires.

Yu Su - Yellow River Blue. Enchanting, psychedelic Asian-Canadian electronic music that owes a small debt to Caribou (and even some Prince and Kraftwerk). In yet another year when West Coast music is left out of this discussion, this was a rare bright light (as was the equally underrated C. Diab). 

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And now, briefly, the actual shortlist, voted on by 199 people other than me:

Cadence Weapon - Parallel World.

Good record. Great artist. I prefer his previous two records, but whatever. I'm really, really looking forward to his memoir, out next May. And I'm excited that the veteran artist seems to be riding a new wave of buzz, thanks in part to a more direct approach in his lyrics, tapping into the current political zeitgeist. He also just signed to Kelp Management, home of Lido Pimienta, Andy Shauf, and Ada Lea. 

The chances: Strong. Many feel that this Polaris stalwart—shortlisted for the very first prize in 2006--is long overdue, and that this is the one to take it. However: "their time has come" has never been a convincing argument in the Polaris jury room.

DijahSB - Head Above the Waters.

Very strong new rap artist from Toronto. Put out two EPs in 2020; the first, called, uh, 2020, is musically stronger, I think, though this one is lyrically stronger. So who knows? I'm more interested in where they're going than where they're at right now, but this record has a lot of love. As someone allergic to trap and its derivatives, I find the arrival of a young MC actually interested in funk and groove to be inspiring.

The chances: Good. Solid underdog choice.

Dominique Fils-Aime - Three Little Words.

This Quebecois artist surprised a lot of people when her 2019 album Stay Tuned appeared on that year's shortlist. I love that record, and its predecessor, Nameless. This album, the third in some kind of trilogy (the concept is not entirely clear to me), I don't enjoy as much: it seems safer, and aimed at a much wider audience, a bit too CBC Radio Two for my taste. But it's clearly working for her. I was surprised this shortlisted, but happy that she continues to be recognized: she's a major talent.

The chances: I'd say slim.

Klo Pelgag - Notre-Dame-des-Sept-Douleurs.
Beloved in Quebec. Solid record. Incredibly well crafted and orchestrated. Leaves me a bit cold; my francophone choice this year would have been Vanille (as well as the largely instrumental acts Fly Pan Am, Population II and You Doo Right). But right from the beginning I predicted this would shortlist, because it's just that good (and accessible). As poppy as Charlotte Cardin, but with a whole lot of Anna Calvi and Owen Pallett in the mix.

The chances: Fair. It's enough of a curiosity and left-field pick for anglo jurors that it has a shot. And amidst such an odd squad of competitors, it could very well rise to the top.




Leanne Betasamosake Simpson - Theory of Ice.

Fantastic. First time I heard this, I listened on headphones as I walked the perimeter of a frozen Ontario lake not that far from where Simpson grew up. That sublime experience aside, this is a gorgeous record in which the sonic poetry, arranged in part by Jim Bryson, matches the lyrics by an acclaimed poet and novelist. This is one of several records this year, including Thanya Iyer and the Weather Station, that gave me flashbacks to Jane Siberry; could there be a looming Siberrenaissance?! (Sorry.) All that said, there is a sense of emotional distance and restraint here that I find slightly off-putting (and a bit ASMR). But there's no denying it's a great record. Theory of Ice also gets a big lift from Simpson's timely cover of Willie Dunn's "I Pity the Country": it's timely because of the sadly ever-relevant lyrics, but also because Kevin Howes's long-awaited Dunn retrospective, Creation Never Sleeps, came out this year to great acclaim. Simpson nails the song with a powerful arrangement (and vocals by her sister, Ansley), but by no means does it overshadow her own material. Bandcamp here. 

The chances: Strong. As recent years have shown, jurors are acutely interested in Indigenous voices, and Simpson's lyrical voice is incredibly strong. Part of me wants this record to win just to make Jonathan Kay angry (based on a barely-worth-mentioning Twitter fart of his last month).

Mustafa - When Smoke Rises.

Hooooooly shee-it, this is great. I'd heard the buzz about Mustafa the Poet for years; he's been in the public eye since he was 12, and has co-written songs for Shawn Mendes and Justin Bieber. But I had no idea what to expect when this debut dropped (without "the Poet"). For a concept record by a Sudanese-Canadian about the death of his friend, rapper Smoke Dawg, I did not expect it to be so folkie and influenced by Joni Mitchell and Sufjan Stevens (insert my systemically racist assumptions here, about music being made in the immigrant-heavy Toronto neighbourhood of Regent Park). This record is gorgeous: the vocals, the songwriting, the guitar playing, the production, the cameo from Mercury Prize-winner Sampha (whose supple voice is remarkably similar to Mustafa's). It's what I wanted to hear from Daniel Caesar; Mustafa is an infinitely superior songwriter, and almost as good a singer. Smarter people than me with more time on their hands can explain this record better than I can right now. Here's a great article by Nick Krewen. One thing that definitely works in its favour: economy. This is a relatively brief (by today's standards) eight-song collection, without a single dud. 

 

Update: Read this great article by Wendy Gillis and Victoria Gibson about the ongoing grief in Regent Park—important context while listening to this record.

The chances: Excellent. This year the Polaris in general was wide open; it was unusually difficult to predict both the long list and the shortlist, but this is the one record I always knew would be in the final running, despite the fact it came out days before the deadline. I'm almost certain it will win—and I only include a qualifier in there because Polaris has been known to confound. But whether or not Mustafa wins, I will say what an awesome flex it is that his headlining Toronto debut is being held at Massey fucking Hall (on December 1, making him the third person to play the newly renovated hall after Gordon Lightfoot and Buffy Sainte-Marie). Never heard of him? Catch up now.

The OBGMs - The Ends.

Not for me. I don't get Pup, I don't get Metz, and I don't get this. If you do, then great. I might be too old for rock'n'roll at this point. But hats off to this band, which, to my knowledge, didn't even have a big profile in Toronto, never mind the rest of the country, before suddenly arriving on the Polaris shortlist. Fun trivia: Colanthony Humphrey is the younger brother of longlisted rapper Clairmont the Second, making them the first siblings in different acts to make a Polaris long list in the same year. (Shout out to Kate Killet for pointing that out.)

The chances: Slim. I don't think a young rock band will win Polaris; that hasn't happened in more than 10 years, and frankly I think it's unlikely to ever again.

Tobi - Elements Vol. 1.

Incredibly talented new artist who was deservedly longlisted for his debut album, and now shortlists with this follow-up. I preferred the debut; this one veers more toward mainstream R&B, and a singer this good certainly doesn't need AutoTune. But his pop shift manifests in otherwise entirely natural ways and hopefully will expand his audience. Tracks like "Dollas and Cents" would give Anderson.Paak a run for his money. There are many strong tracks here, but despite the massive talent on display I'm not convinced this is a stellar collection overall. Would still be happy to see him win, though. 

The chances: Fair. Depends a lot on the makeup of the jury, and how they weigh this against its most immediate analog, DijahSB—whose record is a lot more concise. 

The Weather Station - Ignorance.

Wanted to love this record. I do not love this record. I love the idea of this record. Tamara Lindeman works with great people. She's incredibly smart and articulate. And yet--this record puts me to sleep. But so do those late-period Talk Talk records everyone cooler than me loves so much, so make of that what you will. I do really like the singles here, particularly "Robber." But, even more so than the Leanne Simpson record, this record sounds ice cold (and equally ASMR). After going through a tumultuous year of raw emotion, I found it hard to connect to something this reserved. But I'm more than thrilled that Lindeman's years of hard work are paying off, rising from a thriving Toronto musical community that I've admired for years (ever since she was in Bruce Peninsula).

The chances: Good. There's a lot of love for this record, both at home and (FWIW) abroad. And the completely mystifying millenial fandom for Steely Dan and pristine, slick adult pop records with jazz players might help tilt opinion in the Weather Station's favour. Also, as with Cadence Weapon, there may well be the sentiment that after years of critical acclaim, that Tamara Lindeman's time has finally come: and not with a sympathy vote, but with the most successful record of her career. 

Zoon - Bleached Waves.

I've always hated shoegaze music, and calling it "moccasin-gaze" doesn't make it any better. This may well be the electronic Anishinaabe version of My Bloody Valentine's Loveless, as some claim; either way, it's not my bag. If your musical act of deconolonization is emulating the most bland music ever made by your colonizer, is that its own sort of musical statement? No idea. The woozy title track makes me physically nauseous—which may well even be the point.

The chances: Slim. I honestly can't imagine anyone being excited about this record, but that's clearly my own bias and I'm constantly told that objectivity is dead. C'mon Polaris, shock me!

15 other non-shortlisted records I really enjoyed, and if/when I have time I'll tell you more about them, if I haven't already:

Jennifer Castle - Monarch Season
C. Diab - White Whale
Fly Pan Am - Frontera (I've finally come around)
Thanya Iyer - Kind
Yves Jarvis - Sundry Rock Song Stock (I've finally come around)
Garrys - Haxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages
Greg Keelor - Share the Love
Population II - A la O Terre

Sam Roberts Band - All Of Us (career best?)
Serena Ryder - The Art of Falling Apart
Sagot - s/t
Vanille - Soleil '96
Donovan Woods - Without People
You Doo Right! - Don't Think You Can Escape Your Purpose

Could I make a playlist? Could, but won't. Not this year. I'm amazed I even pulled off this post. 

And of course there's a lot more on the longlist that I haven't talked about here. 

Happy listening! Congratulations to everyone who managed to stay alive and keep the lights on last year, never mind make amazing music. 

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 2018, day 2: Daniel Caesar, Jeremy Dutcher

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

Daniel Caesar – Freudian (Golden Child)

The album:

If, at the sound of Daniel Caesar’s voice in the opening track here, “Get You,” you don’t melt even just a little bit, then you are one cold fish.

Even in a genre where a voice like this is almost necessary, Caesar easily stands out in the crowd. There is a significantly larger influence from gospel than we often hear in 2018. There is a focus on old-school skills, matched with modern production that is decidedly stripped down, with nods to the sparse production of The Xx, as well as to obvious R&B classics like D’Angelo’s Voodoo. There are pleasant twists, like the rich, Prince-like harmonies on the a cappella “Neu Roses.” And, unlike, oh, I don’t know, The Weeknd, there’s zero sign of creepy misogyny.

Freudian is a song cycle: boy meets girl, girl is his everything, they split, he’s bitter, they get back together—and by the end of the album, he’s declaring that she “saved my soul like Jesus” and thanking her for “saving my life.” Standard pop lyrical fare, with the occasional clunker (“You’re my sunshine in the rain when it’s pouring … if life is a movie, then you’re the best part”), but with a voice like Caesar’s, one hardly minds.

Almost everything about this record is solid—and yet it’s not that different from the Alvvays record: a major step up from the debut, an album that turns heads around the world, but simply… nice. Much like the somewhat similar Sampha debut—which won the Mercury Prize, mind you—Freudian sounds like a major talent just getting warmed up.

The chances:

Jurors younger than I consider this a shoo-in as winner. Because—why? Because it’s the most commercially successful shortlister? That logic has historically never applied to Polaris, with one exception: Arcade Fire’s 2011 win for The Suburbs. Caesar has a strong shot, no doubt, but I think other albums here hold up more to repeat listens as a whole work.

Jeremy Dutcher – Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa (independent)

The album:

An excerpt from my April 6 review for the Waterloo Record, which can be read here in full:

“When you bring the songs, you’re going to bring the dances back. You’ll bring the people back. You’ll bring everything back.” That’s a tall order to hear from an elder in your community, a community where the past 100 years of colonialism have left fewer than 100 people speaking the Wolastoqiyik language of the Tobique First Nation in New Brunswick. Those remaining people are known as the “song carriers”—needless to say, they are all elderly.  Except one. His name is Jeremy Dutcher, a young, classically trained tenor singer and pianist who lives in Toronto and hangs around experimental circles. His debut album, Wolastoqiyik Lintuwakonawa, is not merely an academic project that involved him listening to his ancestors singing these songs, stored on 100-year-old wax cylinders at the Canadian Museum of History in Gatineau, Quebec. If it was merely an interesting and culturally significant history project, that would be enough. But Dutcher’s voice and arrangements transform these songs into a stunning contemporary classical record—which was entirely the point. Even without the high concept, this would be a stunning work…
 Jeremy Dutcher’s dance with the dead is nothing short of transformative. That it’s his debut record makes it all the more remarkable.

The chances:

Extremely strong. The story is undeniably compelling, which makes critics want to pay closer attention. When they do, the music more than holds up. Dutcher is an arresting singer—as opera singers tend to be, of course. His arrangements draw deeply from modern classical; these ears even hear a bit of Moondog. His piano playing is entrancing, and the minimal additions—a few drums here, some cello there—pull the listener even deeper inside.

If there’s a knock against this record, it’s that opera is inherently off-putting to some listeners—not unlike trap or hardcore punk or any other extreme approach, like the Colin Stetsons of the world. But that’s never managed to completely scare off Polaris voters before (Fucked Up, Tagaq). A win would also make it the third Indigenous record to win Polaris (four if you include Lido Pimienta), and the second allophone record to do so (after Pimienta), which would all be remarkable on many levels.

The shoulda, woulda, coulda:

Bonjay – Lush Life (Mysteries of Trade)

The album:

I know a lot of people who would vote for Daniel Caesar as the best new vocalist in Canada, but I, for one, am left totally floored by what Alanna Stuart does with her voice, both on this record and in her work with the Queer Songbook Orchestra. Fact: when she sang “Constant Craving” with the QSO in Calgary, none other than k.d. lang was in the audience. Stuart’s bandmates didn’t want to tell her this before she went on. Of course, the legendary singer was as wowed as everyone else at the show and told Stuart as much afterwards. Because that’s the level of excellence we’re talking about here.

An excerpt from my May18 review for the Waterloo Record:  

Vocal powerhouse Alanna Stuart and producer Ian Swain, who as Bonjay make thrilling modern R&B inflected with Jamaican dancehall rhythms and German electronic music, somewhere on the spectrum between Solange and Kate Bush, but decidedly funkier than either, with some of the sci-fi soul of South African Toronto expat Zaki Ibrahim in the mix as well. This should be known as the Toronto sound. Stuart is nothing short of stunning: soulful and seductive, with the occasional operatic flourish. The music underneath her rarely goes for the obvious; despite Stuart’s clear star appeal, these aren’t straightforward pop songs, and they’re stronger for it. Lush Life arrives several years after this duo’s debut EP. The wait was entirely worth it.

Why it didn’t shortlist:

Timing. This is a deep record that rewards repeat listening, but it came out mere weeks before the Polaris deadline. I don’t doubt that if jurors had more time to spend with it, that it would easily have shortlisted. The only other knock against it is that it’s very much a Toronto record; I’m not sure this band has a large profile outside of the GTA—yet.

Cadence Weapon – s/t (EOne)

The album:

An excerpt from my Jan. 27 review; you can read that and my interview with him (about Bob Dylan, Gord Downie, and other things) here.

Six years is a long time in the rap game. But that’s how long Cadence Weapon has been out of the visible (or audible) action, after spending time as the poet laureate of his hometown of Edmonton, moving to Montreal and collaborating with beatmakers Kaytranada and Jacques Greene while DJing loft parties, and finally relocating to Toronto, where he met the producer Harrison and the singer Brendan Philip. That journey through time, through cities, and through experiences is abundantly evident on his fourth album, one on which the former solo bedroom producer invites plenty of talented new friends into his process ... His fourth album is self-titled, a designation normally reserved for debuts that introduce an artist to the world. In this case, it’s a summation of his musical career to date, and he claims it’s also his most autobiographical. Cadence Weapon claims that he’s never bonded with other rappers, instead finding kindred spirits in electronic and experimental scenes—if true, that’s hip-hop’s loss. As both a producer and a rapper, Cadence Weapon gets better and better with age. 

Why it didn’t shortlist:

No idea. I thought this would be a shoo-in, because it’s an excellent work by a familiar face. If I had to guess, I’d say that hip-hop doesn’t reward its elders—and it’s certainly weird to think of Cadence Weapon as an elder, but his debut was released 12 years ago, and he’s already been shortlisted twice before. But I know plenty of hip-hop critics who don’t at all understand this artist’s appeal with more general listeners—which, I don’t know, I thought would help his chances instead of trapping him inside a genre ghetto. Maybe Cadence Weapon is too much of square peg to still make shortlists, but no matter: he’s got plenty of reviews hailing this as the best thing he’s ever done, prizes be damned.

Tomorrow: Pierre Kwenders, Hubert Lenoir, and two more shoulda-woulda-coulda.