Showing posts with label DijahSB. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DijahSB. Show all posts

Sunday, September 26, 2021

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). 

--

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.




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 claimeither 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. 




Wednesday, November 18, 2020

2020 odds 'n' sods

Before posting my top 40 of 2020, here are 10 other records I enjoyed this year that deserve to be in the time capsule: mostly either by promising newbies or vets who continue to surprise. 


Destroyer – Have We Met (Merge). Come for John Collins's impeccable and interesting production, which is an '80s throwback that improves considerably on the original era. Stay, if you like, for Dan Bejar, who's more miss than hit this time out; some of his weaker lyrical moments prevent me from loving this more than I do, because musically it's one of his strongest. 


DijahSB – 2020 The Album (independent). "It's time for me to become a household name," this Toronto rapper told Xtra recently. Why not? This is a bright, bold, funky record with serious flow, an album made for the dancefloor that never falls into trap. Musical positivity abounds, even when the lyrics are brutally honest about the chronic pitfalls of poverty ("I'll Pay You Back on Friday," "Broke Boi Anthem." 
 


Dana Gavanski – Yesterday Is Gone (Flemish Eye). Here's what I wrote earlier this year: No wonder this odd little record is so fascinating: it was born in Vancouver, Montreal, the Laurentians, Banff, Toronto, and Serbia. Gavanski packs a lot of work, discipline and experience into her debut album, which fits into a lineage that spans Nico to Aldous Harding (and FWIW I’m not a fan of the latter). It’s unassuming at first, with subtle arrangements and Gavanski’s deadpan voice somewhat off-putting. But the intimacy and delicacy of the instrumentation ultimately draw you in; every tiny production decision here is very particular and deliberate, creating a world you want to inhabit on a lazy afternoon. Fans of Jennifer Castle should be paying attention. 
 


Magnetic Fields – Quickies (Nonesuch). With 28 songs in 47 minutes, there's not much time to dislike anything here—though there are definitely a few duds—and Stephin Merritt is up to many of his best tricks. Who else could spin a relationship metaphor from "Kraftwerk in a Blackout"? And I'm kind of surprised that "The Day the Politicians Died" ("billions laughed and no one cried... celebrations spread worldwide") didn't get more play in this hellish year.
 
   

Jon McKiel – Bobby Joe Hope (You've Changed). If this record sounds like a long-lost '60s pop gem, that's because it kind of is. McKiel lives in Sackville, N.B., where he bought an old analogue reel-to-reel tape recorder from an online seller. The recorder came with some tapes. On one of those tapes were isolated tracks: instruments, vocals, and even one complete song. McKiel took the tracks to Jay Crocker, a.k.a. Joyfultalk, and chopped them up into pieces from which McKiel then wrote his own songs, collaborating with an artist he never met and never will. The result is hazy, psych-folk pop rich with mystery.
 
 

Terrell Morris – Lavender (Blakk Velvet Arts). Multi-dimensional Toronto R&B/hip-hop, silky singing voice, decent rapper,  but most important a breadth of styles heard over the course of this album. Opening track "Winterfall" ("Fuck I hate the winter / damn I love the fall" speaks to me) spends half its running time with Morris accompanied by only a solo alto saxophone. The more contemporary "Roxy" features a video co-starring 2019 longlister Sydanie. "Play the Fool," primarily a solo acoustic guitar track, puts him in Bahamas/Kiwanuka territory. "Got the Love" is a Kaytranada-esque pop song. "Renaissance" is in super-smooth Sade territory. Fans of fellow Torontonians Junia T, Keita Juma, Charlotte Day Wilson, Daniel Caesar et al should be tuning in. 
 

 

Sneaks – Happy Birthday (Merge). "Tell me, do you want to go out tonight?" HELL YES O GOD PLEASE MAKE THIS LOCKDOWN END. (Safely and scientifically, of course.) Sitting somewhere between early Solange and Le Tigre with some 80s Detroit techno in the mix, this DC artist's fourth album ("I'm not overrated / I'm not underrated / I'm just slightly sophisticated") would have sounded great after last call at your local, but in 2020 it became a soundtrack to driving around desolate streets late at night remembering what was. 


Charles Spearin and Josefin Rusteen – Thank God the Plague is Over (Arts and Crafts). So, yeah, about that title: this was recorded in a 16th-century chapel in a tiny Italian town ravished by the Black Plague, and the titular phrase was 400-year-old graffiti on the wall. Spearin (Broken Social Scene, Do Make Say Think) and Rusteen (a Swedish violinist who's played with Ane Brun) improvised in this chapel every day during an artist's retreat set up by Feist, on nyckelharpa and violin. There are ghosts in this music, and two strangers who don't speak the same language found common ground among them. 
 


Tricky – Fall to Pieces (False Idols). I only check in on Tricky every few years, but the success of Backxwash (with whom I'd love to hear a collaboration), the continued influence of Billie Eilish, and other elements in the zeitgeist made me realize how much we still hear 1995's Maxinquaye every day, in different ways. What I hadn't realized is that he lost his 24-year-old daughter in 2019, and wrote a memoir about his tumultuous life later that year. This new record is very much a 21st century blues album, particularly the raw "Hate This Pain." Most of it is sparse, lovely, and features Polish vocalist Marta. It's his 14th album. I don't claim to be intimate with every minute detail of his discography, but I'd hazard a guess that this is one of the best. 
 


William Tyler – New Vanitas (Merge). I'm not going to the U.S. anytime soon. I'm not going anywhere soon, for that matter, except the furthest reaches of my imagination. For those journeys, Nashville guitarist William Tyler makes great driving music. It's vivid and meditative music, but always seems to be in motion, full of changing landscapes and small details spotted at the side of the road. And whereas someone like Julianna Barwick--whose music served a similar function for me this year--seems to reside in fantastical places, Tyler sounds rooted in the natural world, or at the very least in the quotidian corners of your neighbourhood you never noticed before you were forced to explore them when the world collapsed around you.