Top 20 of 2020: 11-20

My top 20 of 2020, numbers 11-20.

11 Nihiloxica – Kaloli (Crammed Discs). Ugandan drumming through a techno lens. This project started when the Nilotika Cultural Ensemble in Kamapla, Uganda, started playing at a local nightclub in between and during DJ sets. Word spread to Belgium, where a jazz drummer wanted to capture the synergy on tape. After a couple of EPs, this is the debut full-length, featuring two drum kits and electronics augmenting the vivid percussion, for a 21st-century Olatunji experience, a next-gen Congotronics, that doesn't in any way feel like the original tracks are being overshadowed. It's a great record, but on a personal note, it's also a very productive record: for writing, for walking, for housework, for whatever it is you need to do. As long as you're somewhere you can turn it up loud.  

12 Lido Pimienta – Miss Colombia (Anti). I wrote this and this earlier: It’s great. And I say that as someone who didn't at all love Pimienta’s Polaris-winning La Papessa. Everything has stepped up, starting with Pimienta’s own vocals: they’re stronger, express more dynamics and inflection, and generally more emotionally resonant. That’s true of the electronics as well; she’s said part of her challenge here was to make the technology sound beautiful, and she succeeded. The brass arrangements throughout are also a lovely touch. Her blending of Colombian rhythms with electronics more fully developed. The record is roughly divided into two parts: side one is more modern, side two is (mostly) more traditional, with guest spots from South American pop stars Bomba Estereo and the traditional Afro-Colombian percussion/vocal Sexteto Tabala (the collab here will sound familiar to any fans of Caribbean-Colombian legend Toto La Momposina) illustrating the scope of what Pimienta is aiming for—and achieves. And—hey, look! A Grammy nomination for Best Latin Alternative Album.  



And check out this beautiful video made for the Polaris Prize:

13 Marlaena Moore – Pay Attention, Be Amazed! (Flemish Eye). Wrote about this earlier here: It's a good sign when the opening track on your debut album is a song of longing on par with "Nothing Compares 2 U." Yes, this Edmonton performer's "I Miss You" is that good, and so is the rest of the record. Moore has no shortage of great lyrics that document fragility ("You came to see my harvest and you wanted it for free / Now this empty garden is all that's left of me"), and she often delivers them with a voice with just enough waver that you think she might break, but her inner strength pulls through every line. Moore's an incredible torch singer, as closing waltz "Tiger Water" demonstrates, over guitar feedback, vibraphones and snare brushes. "Imposter" borrows from Roxy Music's "More Than This," likely unconsciously, but the album is full of equally killer melodies all her own. "Xmas Oranges" is a total earworm, an acrobatic melody set to chugging cellos and a beguiling chorus: "Christmas oranges / I don't care for sticky citrus / You can't tell the difference between love and fatal interest." Producer Chad Van Gaalen, who's known for an often-hazy and psychedelic '90s aesthetic in his solo work and for others, helps Moore deliver a vivid and colourful sonic backdrop for songs that are part Patsy Cline, part Liz Phair, part Angel Olsen. It's hard not to be impressed with the chutzpah of the album title, but it turns out to be entirely accurate. I can't wait to hear more from this woman.

Also, I'm a sucker for one-shot videos (well, three in this case), no matter how goofy.

14 The Dears – Lovers Rock (Dangerbird) I wrote this earlier: When Murray Lightburn put out such an incredible solo album just last year, called Hear Me Out, I wondered if he would resurrect the ever-imploding Dears, of which only he and Natalia Yanchak remain. But at his age, it's important not to mess with the brand and name recognition. Sadly, very few people heard that solo record. And as this record proves, there is still a lot of life in this band, who this year celebrated 20 years of their breakthrough End of a Hollywood Bedtime Story. "Since all these years / is it still the same old song?" he asks. Maybe it is, but these are some of the best songs the Dears have ever written, starting with "The Worst in Us," the kind of melodic anthem they often excelled at, with a surprising and danceable bridge taking a left turn in the middle of the song. There are more orchestrations here than they've used since 2011's big-budget Degeneration Street, although Lovers Rock was recorded at their home studio and at Hotel 2 Tango (and Sam Roberts dusts off his violin for the occasion). Jake Clemons of the E Street Band (and Montreal transplant) elevates the lovely "Stille Lost" with his soaring saxophone, while some of the softer moments here ("Play Dead," "Is This What You Really Want," "Too Many Wrongs") are the most stunning. For a band that always recoiled at obvious Smiths comparsions (and I'm going to apologize for bringing them up yet again), there are some decidedly '80s-sounding Johnny Marr effects on the guitars here, but at this point in time, with such a rich and varied career behind them, the Dears shouldn't have to be so defensive. The closing track threatens "We'll Go Into Hiding." Let's hope not.

15 Wye Oak – Horizon EP (Merge). A few years back, this Durham-via-Baltimore duo covered Pat Benatar's "We Belong" for a radio session (watch it here), and it was stunning. That song makes me weepy at the best of times, and Wye Oak managed to make it their own. They didn't have a youth choir behind them at the time, but they do here: the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, who commissioned this work. Normally I find the use of kids choirs in pop music treacly (Benatar notwithstanding), but here they take Jenn Wasner's songs of alienation and dislocation and, to state the obvious, make them sound a lot less lonely, like all those Italian apartment-dwellers singing songs together during the first wave of the lockdown. Of course, these aren't catchy pop songs or simple folk anthems; this is Wye Oak, in all their glorious subtlety and complexity. Almost 15 years into their career, they continue to surprise. I'm extremely grateful they got to record this when they did, before it was no longer possible.

 




16 Deerhoof – Love Lore (Joyful Noise). This band is prolific at the best of times, and the pandemic made them even more so. In addition to a live album and a collection of odds and sods, they released a new album of original material, Greg Saunier covered Voivod's Angel Rat acoustically, and then finally this album of eclectic covers arranged into four long medleys. WIth such output, Deerhoof are more than easy to take for granted, which is why Love Lore is likely getting more attention than the original album released this year: we know what Deerhoof sound like playing their own songs, but what happens when they unleash their powers on others? Only Deerhoof would attempt Ornette Coleman, the Knight Rider theme, Eddy Grant, Stockhausen, Penderecki, Kraftwerk and the Jetsons theme on the same record, rubbing up one another and reinvented in the most magical way. The greatest rock band of the 2000s is still alive and kicking.

 

17 Fiona Apple – Fetch the Bolt Cutters (Sony). This is an uneasy listening record centred around piano and voice and searing lyrics, and yet for me the main appeal is the production, the percussion (drummer Amy Aileen Wood, and percussionist David Garza) and Apple's rhythmic choices, especially on tracks like "Relay," "Newspaper" and "For Her." Apple's strong personality dominates the discussion about this record, which is hardly surprising: it's the most visceral post-#MeToo record to have a large audience, a solidarity message and warning to other women about predatory behaviour, and she laments "yet another woman to whom I won't get through." But it's the band—including bassist Sebastian Steinberg and Apple's own piano work—that I keep coming back for.

18 Nels Cline – Share the Wealth (Blue Note). As much as I love guitarist Nels Cline's playing, in Wilco and elsewhere, I never know what to expect from his solo records. I loved his Blue Note debut Lovers in 2016, a deliberately pretty and "accessible" journey through a varied songbook, everything from Rodgers and Hart to Gabor Szabo to Annette Peacock and Sonic Youth. Share the Wealth is considerably more adventurous, skronky and noisy at times, filled with swing and verve and prog turns and itchy-scratchy avant-garde tumbles into the unknown—in the case of the aptly titled 17-minute epic "Stump the Panel," all in one song. And yes, it's also pretty, as on the relatively straightforward "Nightstand" and "Passed Down." Featuring staple Zorn players Brian Marsella (keys) and Cyro Baptista (percussion), Mr. Bungle bassist Trevor Zorn, Tuatara saxophonist Skerik, and Cline's long-time drummer Scott Amendola, this particular lineup had never played together before recording this album in two days. Cline originally intended to take the sessions and splice them up, but there was so much magic there he didn't bother. With players like this, there's no need for sleight of hand.

19 Sault – (untitled) Rise (Forever Living Originals). Nobody appears to know anything about this British act: whether it's an actual group, or a collection of studio musicians, or some kind of community arts project, or what. What we do know is that this is their fourth full length in the last two years, and the one before this, untitled (Black Is), managed to feature Michael Kiwanuka on one track; otherwise, everyone is completely anonymous. Each record is better than the last, and this features more complete songs rather than sketches, alongside killer grooves throughout. The sound can loosely be labelled soul, tied to no particular time period: big gospel/disco/R&B vocals, either by female soloists or in groupings, lush string sections, live rhythm section, and tasteful arrangements throughout. The raison d'etre, however, is to write songs that speak to the current/eternal unrest: "Fearless," "Street Fighter," "Uncomfortable," "Scary Times"—you get the idea. They sound all the more essential because so very few others appear to be doing this, or at least doing it this well. Closing track "Little Boy" is heartbreaking.

 

20 C. Diab – White Whale (Injazero). This album is the musical equivalent of escaping from the current shitshow to a Pacific Coast cabin during a rainstorm and just droning out with bowed guitar that sounds like a one-man Godspeed filtered through Loscil and Martin Tielli. It's not just bowed guitar, there are a few things going on here, none of which are ambient or soothing, but this does have a powerful catharsis of calm, if that makes an iota of sense. This is a very interior record, released during an extremely interior year, and it's been on high rotation for me since its release in June.  

Why the Melvillian title? Here's what he says in his artist statement:  

“The hope for security, for accountable humanitarian leadership, for affordable housing and fair income, for understanding, things which we learned were natural pieces of a progressive society, now seem like humanity’s great white whale in a darker, regressive world, once appearing on the horizon only to disappear again into the deep.
“It’s my hope that White Whale, for what it’s worth, will lend a small hand to the listeners’ emancipation from inward fear and sadness and feelings of unworthiness. And help you realize what it is you need to do in order to have that conversation, or make that move, and two steps forward in crushing that which seeks to crush you.”

Get I get an amen?

2020 Polaris Music Prize shortlist, Day 3: Lido Pimienta, Nehiyawak

My annual five-part look at the shortlist examines two records a day, plus two personal picks from the qualifying period, and this year—as the prize gets older and still skews young—I’m including one veteran artist each day whose latest work risks getting lost in the shuffle.


This year we’re going in reverse alphabetical order, because, hey, everything else about 2020 is upside down.


The winner this year will be announced on Monday, October 19 in a televised ceremony featuring 10 commissioned short films, airing on CBC Gem, YouTube and social media.

Day 1, with Witch Prophet and U.S. Girls, is here. Day 2, with Jessie Reyez and Pantayo, is here. 


Day 3:

Lido Pimienta – Miss Colombia (Anti)

The album: It’s great. And I say that as someone who didn't at all love Pimienta’s Polaris-winning La Papessa. Here, her vocals are much (MUCH, MUCH) warmer, the production is impeccable, the melodies more memorable, and her blending of Colombian rhythms with electronics more fully developed. The record is roughly divided into two parts: side one is more modern, side two is (mostly) more traditional, with guest spots from South American pop stars Bomba Estereo and the traditional Afro-Colombian percussion/vocal Sexteto Tabala illustrating the scope of what Pimienta is aiming for—and achieves. Her lyrics are fearless (“Nada”) and her musical choices just as daring. 

Bandcamp here.

Bonus: Though Pimienta clearly runs her own show, her primary collaborator here is Matt Smith, a.k.a. Prince Nifty, best known for his work with Owen Pallett in and outside Les Mouches. Prince Nifty put out a wonderful, weird, and virtually unnoticed album earlier this year, We’re Not in Kansas Anymore. It doesn’t sound anything like either Pimienta or Pallett. Check it out here. 

The chances: Normally I’d say good to strong, but there’s the fact that Polaris has yet to have a repeat winner and I think it’s unlikely Lido will be the person to do it, especially only one album later.


Nehiyawak – Nipiy (Arts and Crafts)

The album: I thought this was just another boring rock band, until I started reading reviews claiming the lack of melodic hooks was a conscious act of decolonization by this Cree band, who are apparently toying with the tropes of Western music. 

That’s an interesting idea. I’m not sure I buy it—but it’s also not my place to buy it. I’ll leave that to my more academic-minded colleagues who want to know What It All Means. 

What I hear is an Edmonton act influenced by what’s known as Flegelrock, the Calgary bands revolving around the Flegel brothers (Women, Viet Cong / Preoccupations / Cindy Lee), dream pop, and a healthy dose of early Cure, all produced very well by Colin Stewart (Black Mountain, Destroyer, Kathryn Calder). What I don’t hear are a lot of songs I want to hear again, other than maybe “Starlight” or “Copper.” Guitar music has to be a lot better than this to get me out of bed these days. I wish these guys all the best for a whole bunch of reasons, but this record cuts no mustard with me. 

Bandcamp here.

The chances: Weak. But who knows? They could pull a Karkwa. I realize this is entirely subjective, but I can’t see a guitar band like this inspiring people who might not even like guitar music in the first place (and yet, obviously, it does). It’s neither experimental nor melodically strong. It’s interesting, but that’s not enough. Maybe the fact it doesn’t register with this raised-on-rock music listener only means it has greater appeal to generations after me. Also: For the past 30 years I’ve impulsively recoiled at any artist labelled “shoegaze,” so take that with several shakes of salt. But trying to be clever and calling it “moccasin-gaze” doesn’t make it any more inspiring.




The could’ve, should’ve beens:

Lightning Dust – Spectre (Western Vinyl)

The album: When this came out in the fall of 2019, there were already a lot of spectres on the horizon. We had no idea we’d be blindsided by an entirely new one. I liked this record well enough when it first came out, but it became one of my go-tos during the pandemic (also, my partner fell in love with it around that time). Partly because Amber Webber’s stunning voice, with its trademark quaver, is the ideal companion for the darkest of days. And partly because she and musical partner Josh Wells have always favoured minor-key melancholy, hints of psychedelia and goth-y new wave informing their fractured take on modern folk music: perfect for dark nights of the soul during months of isolation. Sweet Jesus, there’s even a song called “Inglorious Flu.” 

“Run Away” is a killer pop song, where the chord progression borrows ever so slightly from Springsteen’s “The River.” “When It Rains” is beautiful and devastating, and I’m hoping someone sends it to Stevie Nicks. The arrangements are universally sparse, even when the strings come in or Stephen Malkmus drops by. Spectre sits on a shelf with records by Low (“Devoted To”), Robert Plant’s trippier solo material, or, on the piano ballads (“Inglorious Flu,” “More”), even early, pre-cheese Sarah McLachlan.

This is their first record since jumping off Black Mountain (whose latest record suffered from their absence), and Webber wasn’t even sure she wanted to continue as a musician. And so Spectre is filled with a sense of clear, midlife purpose: do your best, or don’t bother anymore. As a result, Spectre might well be the best record either of them have been associated with (and I’m a huge fan of the first Black Mountain record). 

Bandcamp here.

Why it didn’t even make the long list: I’m guessing it’s still viewed merely as a Black Mountain side project, which is really unfortunate. Not only are they not in the band anymore, Lightning Dust has clearly developed their own identity since their 2007 debut. We’re also getting to the point where the mid-2000s crowd is getting squeezed out of Polaris picks. See also: New Pornographers (on whose 2014 shortlisted album Brill Bruisers featured Webber), discussed on Day 2.

Marlaena Moore – Pay Attention, Be Amazed! (independent)

The album: It's a good sign when the opening track on your debut album is a song of longing on par with "Nothing Compares 2 U." Yes, this Edmonton performer's "I Miss You" is that good, and so is the rest of the record. Moore has no shortage of great lyrics that document fragility ("You came to see my harvest and you wanted it for free / Now this empty garden is all that's left of me"), and she often delivers them with a voice with just enough waver that you think she might break, but her inner strength pulls through every line. Moore's an incredible torch singer, as closing waltz "Tiger Water" demonstrates, over guitar feedback, vibraphones and snare brushes. "Imposter" borrows from Roxy Music's "More Than This," likely  unconsciously, but the album is full of equally killer melodies all her own. "Xmas Oranges" is a total earworm, an acrobatic melody set to chugging cellos and a beguiling chorus: "Christmas oranges / I don't care for sticky citrus / You can't tell the difference between love and fatal interest." Producer Chad Van Gaalen, who's known for an often-hazy and psychedelic '90s aesthetic in his solo work and for others, helps Moore deliver a vivid and colourful sonic backdrop for songs that are part Patsy Cline, part Liz Phair, part Angel Olsen. It's hard not to be impressed with the chutzpah of the album title, but it turns out to be entirely accurate. I can't wait to hear more from this woman. 

If you don't believe me, always listen to Fish Griwkowsky. 

Bandcamp link is here. 

Why it didn't even longlist: No idea, but there were no other sad-lady songwriters on the long list, either; I'd hoped to also see pan-Canadian Dana Gavanski on there. And in terms of Western exposure, fellow Edmontonians Nehiyawak and Wares arrived with better backstories. Me, all I needed to hear was "produced by Chad Van Gaalen" and I was intrigued, but this record exceeded any and all expectations.  

Veterans MIA:

Wolf Parade – Thin Mind (Royal Mountain / Sub Pop)

It's a complicated thing to assess a band's "comeback" records. I mean, the Buzzcocks put out a lot of great songs in their second and third waves, but all anyone wants to hear is Singles Going Steady. Wolf Parade, on the other hand, have put out two albums in the last five years that are infinitely better than the two records they released after their classic debut, which came out 15 years ago. Granted, I have a soft spot for 40-year-olds kicking this much ass, and with this much sense of renewed purpose. Sure, Dan Boeckner and Spencer Krug have put out a lot of great work in their own projects, and will continue to do so. But hearing them together and with Arlen Thompson—one of my favourite drummers—behind them is a whole other beast. Whether you were ever a fan or not, listen to the first three tracks here and try to deny their visceral power, captured by Sleater-Kinney's favourite producer, John Goodmanson. (And then go listen to 2017's even better Cry Cry Cry.) This isn't a comeback. This is a band still actively writing their legacy. They were one of the last acts I saw before the shutdown, a memory I'm going to cherish for a long time.

Bandcamp here.

Video for "Julia Take Your Man Home" animated by Chad Van Gaalen:

Tomorrow: Kaytranada, Junia T

My personal Polaris 2020 long list part 4

Day four!

Recap: I cast my ballot for the Polaris Prize this week. Jurors only get five slots. Almost 200 albums were suggested by fellow jury members. A long list of 40 will be published next week. As always, there’s no shortage of excellent Canadian music. But this year there’s no one album—or even three—that I feel so obviously tower above the rest. Which makes the winnowing even more difficult.

I’m not going to tell you what’s on my ballot, but these are the 40 records I considered (10 in each post). Most of these have been discussed by the Polaris jury at some point, but this is a very personal list that no one should read into deeply. Many of these will likely not make the long list, and many not mentioned here most definitely will.

Final caveat: I’m a 48yo anglo white dad who lives in Toronto with all the obvious blind spots that entails, so prepare yourself with as many grains of salt you feel are required.

Part 4/4: 

Owen Pallett – Island: This long-delayed album came out two weeks before the Polaris deadline, and yet I wouldn’t at all be surprised to see it become one of the most-discussed albums this year. And not just because the first single (with its excellent accompanying video) contains this lyric: "Do not be scared / Surely some disaster will descend and equalize us / a crisis / Will unify the godless and the fearless and the righteous.” Though as lushly orchestrated as much of his work, these songs are centred around acoustic guitar, marking a new(ish) direction for Pallett: very little evidence of his violin-virtuoso past, few of the electronics that shaped 2014’s In Conflict, the orchestration never draws attention to itself, the music rich with subtleties and no concessions at all to pop audiences (usually Pallett would throw a bone or two). This sounds like Pallett’s most musically personal album; it also features the loveliest vocals he’s ever put to tape. For day-one fans, it’s as much a mature, one-man version of Les Mouches as it is a Final Fantasy record. Bandcamp link here.

Pantayo – s/t: Now here’s something you haven’t heard before: a group of Filipinas integrating traditional percussion (kulintang) with R&B and pop that lies somewhere between ESG, Massive Attack and Solange. Yes, the novelty is part of the appeal, and that will help this land on the long list and go possibly much further this Polaris season. But, like Tagaq or Jeremy Dutcher’s work, this is far from mere novelty: it’s an incredibly strong record: the grooves, the vocals, the songs, the sonic textures, the production by Alaska B (Yamantaka // Sonic Titan). Pantayo didn’t start out like this; when I saw them perform at a Long Winter event several years ago, it was definitely more on the traditional side. Now, “V V V (They Lie)” and “Desire” are total radio summer jams, uptempo and down, respectively. There’s even, it seems, some ’80s new wave in the mix here, but that could just the Scarborough boy in me being brought back to a time when I would have first heard traditional Filipino music at high school talent shows 30 years ago and now I’m weirdly conflating a bunch of my own memories in what is apparently a record review. Anyway, this is going to be the record that will make the list and have industry veterans wondering, “Where the hell did this come from?” Bandcamp link here.

Lido Pimienta – Miss Colombia: Is it okay to say now that I didn’t like Pimienta’s 2017 Polaris winner La Papessa? That was a milestone win for many reasons (first allophone winner, entirely indie release), but I still heard a nascent artist who had yet to fully bloom. The conversation around the win—and the way Pimienta dealt with an onslaught of hateful criticism—was more worthy than the album itself, in this random white guy’s opinion, FWIW (not much). The Toronto artist took a lot of time and care following it up, and now we can talk about the music again. Everything has stepped up, starting with Pimienta’s own vocals: they’re stronger, express more dynamics and inflection, and generally more emotionally resonant. That’s true of the electronics as well; she’s said part of her challenge here was to make the technology sound beautiful, and she succeeded. The brass arrangements throughout are also a nice touch. Prince Nifty, a.k.a. Owen Pallett collaborator Matt Smith, co-produces here (check out his lovely new solo release), and guests include Colombian palenque group Sexteto Tabala (the collab here will sound familiar to any fans of Caribbean-Colombian legend Toto La Momposina) and South American superstar Li Saumet of electro-cumbia-pop band Bomba Estereo. One could argue that Pimienta won the Polaris prematurely, but if she hadn’t, then this superior record would likely not be getting an international release; its ambition might not even have been possible. Bandcamp link here.

Slow Leaves – Shelf Life: It’s not like critics are stumbling over themselves in a hunt for the new Lightfoot in 2020. But hey, FWIW, Slow Leaves is likely the new Lightfoot, or at least the most worthy contender since Doug Paisley dropped the 2011 classic Constant Companion. Davidson sings with a gentle lilt and affecting tremolo, his breezy folk rock designed to be played on crackly vinyl or around a campfire. Davidson sounds like a middle-aged dad, which he is, and this is an ideal midlife rainy day record when accompanied by coffee and/or scotch. It’s not new or dark or sexy; it’s just life. Hard to make that sound exciting in a record review. But hey, if the likes of Leif Vollebekk can crack the shortlist, surely Slow Leaves can. Bandcamp link here.

Rae Spoon – Mental Health: This artist has had quite a rollercoaster two years: they continue to run the best truly indie label in Canada (Coax Records) and they released two of the best albums of their career (including this one). But shortly after cancelling a tour due to the pandemic the non-binary artist announced they were diagnosed with cancer before even turning 40. Rae Spoon’s music has always been about resilience, which means in 2020 an album like Mental Health strikes particularly potent chords. As a former folk country artist who now makes what could be called electro-tinged indie rock, Spoon is first and foremost a classic pop songwriter: their songs are full of earworms, no matter the arrangements underneath. Lyrically, this record taps into the anxiety age with precision, which makes it essential listening. Bandcamp link here.

Storry – CH III: The Come Up: The back story behind this record is fascinating, terrifying, tragic, and a whole other tale unto itself (read Nick Krewen’s profile here). But the short on Storry is that this debut album (don’t let the CH III title fool you) is about her past life as a sex worker after an opera career went astray. She turns her classically trained voice to gutsy and jazzy R&B with some ace players behind her. The slick veneer might be suited to upscale jazz clubs, but the narratives pull no punches. Even if there wasn’t a back-Storry here (sorry), the woman’s voice is enough of a draw on its own. Ain’t no AutoTune here, she belongs on a stage. Won’t even need a microphone.

US Girls – Heavy Light: It’s weird to think of Meg Remy as a Polaris veteran, but this is likely to be her third appearance on a shortlist and another likely winner—I thought she’d take it for 2018’s In a Poem Unlimited, my favourite record that year. Heavy Light picks up where that record left off, and, inspired by her 2018 Polaris performance, features a strong vocal presence from backing singers including arranger Kritty Uranowksi, James Baley (remember that name), and Basia Bulat. E Street saxophonist Jake Clemons also shows up, as do members of Arcade Fire and Ice Cream. The album was recorded largely live in Montreal by Howard Bilerman, and the electric energy is evident. Hard to go wrong with that many all-stars on board, and Remy rises to every challenge: she’s one of the most astute and fascinating lyricists working today, set to beautiful melodies steeped in the history of pop music. Part of this album’s success is due to Remy’s generous and collaborative spirit: she’s not precious about empowering her collaborators, working with co-writers (including Bulat), or even revisiting earlier material from her lo-fi solo days (“Overtime” and “Red Ford Radio” are highlights here). Everything about this exudes empathy and community, which is exactly what we need right now.  

Whoop-Szo – Warrior Down: I’m a lightweight when it comes to heavy music, which makes Whoop-Szo all the more surprising. This is stoner sludgy grunge that packs a wallop, even more so when Adam Sturgeon sings about his family’s experience in residential schools or a cousin being shot by cops in Saskatchewan (The chorus “Warrior down in a Saskatchewan town” says so much with six words, a Neil Young-esque simplicity all political songwriters should study). But this isn’t just a Sabbathian sonic anvil; this band started out as a considerably more experimental project, and there are more delicate moments here and prog diversions and deliciously dirty synth interludes and piano instrumentals. I don’t know who London, Ontario engineer Kyle Ashbourne is, but he’s heavy as fuck when he wants to be, with a Blurtonian touch that serves this material extremely well. Watch out for Whoop-Szo: at least one more record like this and they could turn into the most important rock band in Canada. Bandcamp link here.

Witch Prophet – DNA Activation: I certainly didn’t hear any other Canadian record like this in the last year: Habesha hip-hop beats with an Afrofuturist bent and jazzy saxophone (Karen Ng) throughout. Fans of Erykah Badu’s work with Georgia Anne Muldrow will find a lot to love here. This is hypnotic, healing music for humid days, during days when these lyrics strike deep: “Where do we go from here / When the whole world is falling / Through darkness / And we cannot see the light.” The woman known as Witch Prophet brings that light. Bandcamp link here.

Wolf Parade – Thin Mind: All great bands who feel like they’re hitting a wall should take a seven-year break. It did wonders for Wolf Parade. Both 2017’s Cry Cry Cry and now Thin Mind take everything that was ever intriguing about this group of musicians—as players and songwriters—and amplify all their strengths. Rare is the rock band that actually gets better with age, but this new chapter of Wolf Parade is the prime of their career, and Pacific Northwest star producer John Goodmanson captures it perfectly. Other than the obvious strengths of frontmen Dan Boeckner and Spencer Krug, the MVP here is drummer Arlen Thompson, who gives the material a real swing and swagger. Fuck nostalgia, forge the future. Bandcamp link here.

I’ll feel extremely lucky if even half of those 40 records make the longlist.

These next ones are not my bag, but here are 15 artists whose albums are likely to be longlisted, so give them a listen if you haven't already: 

Marie-Pierre Arthur

Backxwash

Daniel Caesar

Dvsn 

Grimes

Flore Laurentienne

Men I Trust

Nap Eyes

Nehiyawak

William Prince

Jessie Reyez

Andy Shauf

Super Duty Tough Work 

Wares

The Weeknd

The official long list will be announced on Monday June 15.

Jurors will then have a chance to submit their shortlist ballot; the shortlist will be announced July 15, and the winner on Sept. 21.

Happy listening! Buy the music you love! 

 

Pre-Polaris 2017, Day Four: Tagaq, Lido Pimienta

The 12th Polaris Music Prize gala is being held on Sept. 18, at the Carlu in Toronto, where 11 jurors locked in a room will decide which one of 10 shortlisted artists will get $50,000. All other nominees receive $3,000.

Every day this week I’ll look at two of the shortlisted albums, assess their chances, and celebrate two albums that didn’t make the shortlist—or, in some cases, even the long list.

On day one I discussed A Tribe Called Red, BadBadNotGood, and should've beens Phillipe B and Japandroids. Day two was Leonard Cohen, Gord Downie, and should’ve beens by Loscil and Tami Neilson. Day three was Feist and Lisa LeBlanc, with should’ve beens by Le Couleur and Jessie Reyez.

Onward:

Lida Pimienta - La Papessa (independent)

The album: La Papessa is the annual rebuke to those who think Polaris is far too predictable: Pimienta is entirely independent, releasing her own record without a publicist and only recently signing to a boutique management company. An Afro-Colombian Canadian, she sings entirely in Spanish. Her take on percussive electronic music is hazy and psychedelic, with nods to cumbia or reggaeton but blissfully faithful to no orthodoxy. Her vocals are at times seemingly untethered to the bass lines, stretching her songs melodically in ways that few artists peripherally connected to pop music dare to do (see: post-Vespertine Bjork). Pimienta is a fascinating vocalist, though clearly not to all tastes. I’ve read accusations that she’s wildly off-pitch in her upper register, which is patently false (listen to her birdcalls on “La Capacidad”). I suspect her melodies incorporate notes outside traditional scales that can create perceptions of clashing harmonies; she may well even be working with quarter-tones, but what do I know? That, combined with a sonic approach that sounds like little else I’m aware of (Arca remixing early Grimes tracks? Totó La Momposina working with Forest Swords?), make La Papessa equally appealing and alienating. Which, no matter how you feel about it, makes it great art.  

The chances: Fair. As someone who reviews approximately 250 albums a year, I can tell you that many music critics love it when something tangentially tethered to a form they recognize sounds surprising and different from the 100 other random new releases that come across their desk that week. (That’s why four dudes playing guitar-bass-drums are easier to dismiss.) It inspires better writing and critical thought. It also inspires discussion, which is why I think this record might be the subject of much debate in this year’s jury room. Take a look at past Polaris winners, and this album could very well fit into a pattern. That said, this shortlist still pits Pimienta against her friends and collaborators A Tribe Called Red, whose tide lifts many boats.

Tagaq - Retribution (Six Shooter)

The album: (reviewed Oct. 20, 2016)

Tanya Tagaq does not fuck around. The earth is dying, we are killing it, and goddammit, this is what it sounds like.

That much can be inferred by the beauty and the horror evoked by the sounds created by Tagaq and her band, violinist Jesse Zubot and percussionist Jean Martin. But mostly, of course, Tagaq, whose singing voice is can be sweet and fragile—and whose throat singing can be terrifying at times.

Despite the power of her music, the musician doesn’t entirely trust the listener enough to get her message. Her press release states frankly: “This album is about rape. Rape of women, rape of the land, rape of children, despoiling of traditional lands without consent.” In the likely event you don’t routinely read artist statements, there’s a cover of Nirvana’s “Rape Me” that closes the album, just in case you weren’t sure what it is you’ve just heard. (“I’m not the only one,” she coos, no doubt as a nod to the MMIW issue she’s been illuminating for years now, but even more powerful post-Ghomeshi/Cosby/Trump.)

She also has introduced spoken word segments into her music, again underscoring the urgency of her environmentalist message. It’s not subtle, and it’s not necessary: her music speaks volumes on its own. Some guests are welcomed into the fold: most effective are Tuvan throat singer Radik Tyülyüsh, a natural cross-cultural collaboration, and Toronto’s Element Choir, whose orchestrated shrieks and howls have often accompanied Tagaq’s Toronto shows, including performances at the Polaris gala and at Massey Hall. Shad shows up as well.

 

Sadly, still no sign of a dream jam with Diamanda Galas. Next time.

Later thoughts: Tagaq and her duo, violinist Jesse Zubot and drummer Jean Martin, are incredible live artists. Every show is improvised. No show disappoints. Recordings are a trickier affair. They definitely nailed it on the Polaris Prize-winning Animism, a searing, visceral scorcher where only a couple of tracks failed to connect. Though Retribution broadens the palette, I didn’t find it improved what was already there, with the exception of the track with Shad. Comparing an artist like Tagaq to people who work in conservative song structures is ridiculous, of course, but so is comparing works within an experimental artist’s discography. For any fan, some records will click, and some won’t. This is all a half-assed attempt to say that I can’t articulate why I don’t think Retribution is as successful as Animism. Such are the pitfalls of subjectivity, especially with music that colours so far outside any lines.

The chances: Minuscule. As with Feist, it’s highly unlikely a past winner will repeat at Polaris. And again, a win for A Tribe Called Red would also be a win for Pimienta and Tagaq, who guest on that record. But you can fully expect Tagaq to conduct herself like lightning at the gala.

The could’ve beens, should’ve beens:

Sagot – Bleu Jane (Simone)

The album: (reviewed April 20, 2017)

Montreal’s Julien Sagot out-spooks Del Bel, Timber Timbre and any other moody Anglos this season on his third album, in which he sounds like a Satanic Serge Gainsbourg. Sagot’s wonderfully strange world is usually a solo affair, though this time he brings some friends into his louche lair, including Patrick Watson’s rhythm section. Bleu Jane is more bass-heavy and features more dense production than his previous two records, though that doesn’t mean it’s going to be any more commercially appealing to audiences in either official language. Not that it has to, of course: Sagot’s mystery is integral to his intrigue, and it makes him one of the fascinating artists in this country.

Recent thoughts: I haven’t seen the new Twin Peaks yet, but from what I hear Sagot does not play the Bang Bang Bar. This is a major oversight.

Why it didn’t even make the long list: Baisé si je sais.

Sam Patch – Yeah You, and I (Dep)

The album: (reviewed Feb. 16, 2017)

Tim Kingsbury is the last member of Arcade Fire, other than the two founders, to put out a solo record. “I never meant to bury it / But I was set in my ways … Is it too late to start again?” he asks on the opening track, “Oversight.” The answer is clear: of course not.

His colleagues Sarah Neufeld, Richard Reed Parry and Jeremy Gara have all explored more experimental and abstract music in their solo projects; Will Butler put out a loose and raw rock’n’roll record (and an even looser and more raw live album immediately afterwards). All of them except Neufeld are part of a cover band on the side, Phi Slamma Jamma, in which Kingsbury and Will Butler clearly have a blast playing songs by the Everly Brothers, Jonathan Richman, Neil Young, Devo, CCR, Prince and others. It’s that band’s set lists that, in retrospect, inform Sam Patch: catchy pop songs over standard rock’n’roll chords.

But Sam Patch often takes a more esoteric bent, with sci-fi synths slowly modulating over pulsing 4/4 rhythms on acoustic and bass guitar, while drummer Jeremy Gara syncopates underneath: it all answers the never-posed question about what a collaboration between Tom Petty and Stereolab might sound like. Kingsbury’s choice of synth sounds is gloriously kaleidoscopic, and he scores points with this reviewer for repurposing the sound of Rough Trade’s “Crimes of Passion” here on “Listening.” Basia Bulat plays bass and provides backing vocals, facilitating Kingsbury’s taste for rich harmonies. John McEntire and Doug McCombs of Tortoise assist on two tracks.

Kingsbury is not one of those mumbling sidemen who finally musters enough courage to step to centre stage: he was fronting his own band (featuring Richard Reed Parry) back in 2002 when he was first spotted by Win Butler, and here he proves to be an engaging vocalist, particularly on the sombre closing track, “Up All Night.”

Comparisons with his day job are inevitable, and so it boils down to this: Sam Patch has every bit the melodic and textural strength of Arcade Fire, without ever sounding claustrophobic and minus the tense dramatics (with the exception of the fuzzed-out rocker “Listening,” which provides the sole hint of menace here; meanwhile, “Never Meant No Harm” nods to the Caribbean rhythms of Reflektor). Kingsbury has always been the most underrated, invisible member of Arcade Fire; that perception ends right now. And with eight songs clocking in at 35 minutes, Sam Patch leaves us wanting more—much more.

Why it didn’t even make the long list: From what I can tell, few critics even reviewed it--and that was even before everyone got pissed off at the marketing campaign for the new Arcade Fire that arrived four months later. Like Kingsbury himself, the record is unassuming and not flashy in any way, and so was unlikely to stand out in a crowded field. But any fan of Arcade Fire, Basia Bulat, or Kingsbury’s old friend Jim Guthrie is well advised to track it down.

Tomorrow: Leif Vollebekk, Weaves