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 2019

2019 was the year I lost my weekly review column after almost two decades, but that just allowed me to pay less attention to trends and go wherever my ears led me. Are these the best records of 2019? Maybe, maybe not, but they were the fuel that kept me alive this year.

Spotify shuffle playlist is here. 
Apple Music playlist is here. 

1. Snotty Nose Rez Kids – Trapline

This album is to Canada in 2019 what Fear of a Black Planet was to the U.S. 30 years earlier. Two MCs raised in a remote northwestern corner of British Columbia have grown into lyrically deft truth-tellers and provocateurs with a command of ancient and recent history. Their flow is animated and exciting; the music beneath it just as much so. While the rest of rock, rap and pop use a lot of language to say next to nothing at all, this crew is razor-sharp and almost always hits their target. Because fellow resistance leaders Jeremy Dutcher and Tanya Tagaq don’t sing in English (for very clear political and aesthetic reasons), that leaves SNRK to confront the oppressor straight on and in their own terms. These are the lyrics that Indigenous and settler audiences alike recite in unison at the high-energy live shows; these are the words that the youth will take to heart. It’s not all righteous fury; there is also a playfulness and levity that makes this music three-dimensional. Solid guest turns by the Sorority (feat. Haviah Mighty), Cartel Madras, Kimmortal, Boslen and others widen the narrative. Maybe there were objectively better albums released this year, maybe not, but this is the only one that felt essential.

2. Nakhane – You Will Not Die

An operatic, queer, black South African transplanted to London making art-pop that oscillates between euphoric R&B and disco to Nick Cave dread, with a few dead-stop solo piano ballads that would be in fine company with Jeremy Dutcher—some even conjure the ghost of Nina Simone. There’s also a guest turn from Anohni and a solo electric guitar cover of New Order. Is there anything this guy can’t do? At the centre of it all is an absolutely stunning voice that delivers goosebumps on every track. This album came out last year in Britain and was released to little fanfare on this side of the Atlantic in early 2019. Why was it so slept on? What’s going on in this world?

3. Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah – Ancestral Recall

This New Orleans trumpeter has put out four albums in 18 months spanning 2018-19, and they’re all spectacular. Scott favours long, occasionally piercing tones, playing evocative, slow melodies over percussion and synth textures. In some ways, it sounds like what Yellow Moon-era Neville Brothers would sound like if they made an instrumental record with Lanois and Eno, but with a shit-hot trumpeter on top. The ever-fiery Saul Williams orates over a few tracks, and vocalist Chris Turner brings a haunting romanticism to “Forevergirl,” driven by Kris Funn’s acoustic bass line. In its swampy mysticism, Ancestral Recall harkens back to Gris Gris, the perversely psychedelic debut by the dearly departed Dr. John. But Scott makes modern jazz that doesn’t look backwards or sideways; to my knowledge, there’s nothing else quite like this in the landscape of Kamasi Washington or Donny McCaslin or Shabaka Hutchings or Thundercat. Christian Scott Atunde Adjuah is in a world and a class all his own.

4. Orville Peck – Pony

Yes, the guy wears a mask. Get over it. Behind that mask is a great songwriter that draws heavily from classic country music—the two-step shuffles, the twangy guitars, the whistling—but isn’t afraid to take it wherever he wants, including a few nods to Joy Division and Nick Cave. Yes, it’s a pastiche, but the songs are more than solid, and Peck’s voice is nothing short of magical. He reaches into deep valleys and climbs tall peaks, and his voice never breaks in between. Rumour has it that this mysterious masked man has professional musical theatre experience, and it’s not hard to believe: he could elevate anyone’s songbook. It just so happens that he has one of his own, and it’s better than most. 

5. Brad Mehldau – Finding Gabriel

I’ll admit that I know next to nothing about this giant of modern jazz piano, other than that I’ve tried at various points in the last 20 years to find an entry point and been left cold. It wasn’t until David Bowie’s Blackstar led me to explore the work of drummer Mark Guiliana that I only recently discovered that musician’s 2014 duo record with Mehldau, Taming the Dragon. Finding Gabriel doesn’t sound like that or anything else I’ve since heard in Mehldau’s discography. Guiliana is on drums for most tracks, but Mehldau handles them himself (or programs drum machines) on others. There’s no credited bass player; the other instrumentalists are string and wind players, who are used texturally, not in any lead capacity. The rest is all Mehldau, with a choral group providing wordless melodies that are majestic and magical. It’s a modern take on cosmic jazz that is more spacious and spiritual than the likes of Flying Lotus. And on “The Prophet is a Fool,” it uses a father-child dialogue to grapple with current political divisions and He Who Shall Not Be Named. All of which makes this music a necessary balm in 2019—and beyond. 

6. Dominique Fils-Aimé – Stay Tuned

I owe this discovery entirely to the Polaris Music Prize jury; before she landed on the shortlist, there was next to no press about her in English Canada. Fils-Aimé is a Haitian-Quebecois singer with roots in jazz, but whose work draws heavily from gospel, R&B, and ’90s neo-soul. Needless to say, she has a killer voice, and her backing band is top-notch, as are the vocal arrangements. (She sings in English, in case that’s important to you.) This is the second instalment in what is supposedly a trilogy paying homage to a century of African-American music, which sounds like a ridiculously broad concept until you hear what Fils-Aimé and her collaborators are able to bring to the table. This deserves a much broader audience beyond provincial borders or genre barriers. 

7. Tobi – Still

This is a phenomenal debut album that stands head and shoulders above its peers, in Toronto and elsewhere. Tobi is an astounding singer, though that’s hardly unusual; so is his fellow Torontonian Daniel Caesar or Grammy phenom H.E.R. What sets Tobi apart is the songwriting, lyricism and production on display here. Two years in the making, it’s melodically strong and with arrangements worthy of the Roots’ more adventurous material. He can call out consumerism and misogyny on one song and sing about drunk texting on the next, yet he’s never preachy nor puerile. He’s no mumblemouth rapper either, and his flow isn’t an afterthought when he takes a break from crooning. A Nigerian immigrant to Brampton via Ottawa, Tobi brings a wide range of influences into his take on modern R&B: string-drenched jazz textures, Nigerian pop, kindred spirits Sampha, Anderson.Paak, Kae Sun and more. Here’s hoping Tobi comes to define the next generation of “the Toronto sound,” whatever that is or will be.

8. Lil Andy – All the Love Songs Lied to Us

If Leonard Cohen made a country record, it would sound like this. It’s too bad he never did. The Montreal poet did start out, after all, as a member of the Buckskin Boys, long before he published a single stanza. Sixty years later, Andy McClelland walked the same streets as Cohen, near Parc du Portugal on Montreal’s Plateau, and started a career as a country singer. After the bard died, McClelland spearheaded a local all-star tribute, and contributed to an international art exhibit dedicated to Cohen. The title track here borrows a melody from Cohen (1984’s “Coming Back to You”) and has cynical, wry lyrics that wouldn’t be out of place on Magnetic Fields’ 69 Love Songs. The song is a triumph, and worth the price of the album alone (along with the beautiful cover art). But the rest of the album is just as strong. McClelland enlists some of Montreal’s finest players, including guitarist Joe Grass, pianist Patrick Watson and vocalists Ariel Engle (La Force) and Katie Moore. His instrumentation and his motifs may be traditional, but his lyrical voice is not. “Even the social housing sparkles at night,” he marvels. Elsewhere, “Things are thin and flatter now / there’s no good way to be / my life feels like some tinny, shitty, bitrate MP3.” This record, however, does not feel that way in the least. No matter what format you hear it on.

9. The Comet is Coming – Trust in the Lifeforce of the Deep Mystery

Shabaka Hutchings is the new namedrop for midlife music nerds. Uttering his name is like some secret password into a new world of jazz that appeals to aging rockers and ravers alike. The British saxophonist broke out of obscurity when his tuba-driven band Sons of Kemet was shortlisted for the Mercury Prize last year, and in 2019 he returned to one of his other projects, the psychedelic electronic trio the Comet is Coming. Their second album isn’t as entirely mind-blowing as their debut, but it’s still a monster of a record, digging deeper into dub grooves and getting heavier than Hutchings’s more frenetic excursions in Kemet. No matter what moniker appears on the front of one of his records, he exudes ecstasy (the state) and brings the most out of his bandmates, and vice versa. 

10. Damon Locks / Black Monument Ensemble – Where Future Unfolds

I’ve always needed music for therapy, but never more so than in the last three years (for obvious geopolitical reasons). In 2019, I needed to hear voices. So the sound of a Chicago choir singing secular gospel songs of solace and justice proved to be just what the shrink ordered. This debut album is a live recording of the debut gig by this 15-member ensemble, helmed by a sound collage artist who started out sampling civil rights speeches before he decided to put voice to new ones of his own. There are electronics and loops at play here, but the focus is on the jazzy rhythm section and the choir, who promise to “rebuild a nation.” Also present is Angel Bat Dawid on clarinets; she put out her own fine record on the consistently reliable International Anthem label. As the world falls apart, gospel and jazz are two of the only kinds of music that make any sense to me anymore. 

11. Haviah Mighty – 13th Floor

When this record won the Polaris Music Prize in September, it became the first hip-hop record to win a major prize in Canada, and she became the first black woman to do the same. No disrespect to all those who came before (say the names: Salome Bey, Liberty Silver, Nana McLean, Michie Mee, Lillian Allen, Molly Johnson, Deborah Cox, Jully Black, Fefe Dobson, Divine Brown, Zaki Ibrahim, Cold Specks, Sate, Dominique Fils-Aime, and no doubt many more), but Mighty is the whole package: as a poet, a lyricist, a singer, and a rapper. She’s got party tracks, historical lectures, love songs, and everything in between. She’s never short of breadth. 

12. Digawolf – Yellowstone

This guy lives outside of Yellowknife and has a voice that sounds like the gravel road he likely lives on. But this is no rural folk record: this is a ballsy, modern blues record that leaps out of the speakers. On the first two tracks, anyway; the rest of the record alternates between that mode (“Digital Nomad”) and a heavily Lanois-influenced take on arty, atmospheric folk songs that sound like a million bucks. The only hint you get that Digawolf lives anywhere near the tree line is when he sings in Tlicho, his native tongue, or on “Northern Love Affair,” which, like the rest of the record, is in English. 

13. GRLwood – I Sold My Soul to the Devil When I Was 12

Two self-described “Kentucky-fried queerdoes” in their early 20s open their second record with the line, “Be nice to sad boys or get shot.” Jeeeeeeeesus. It’s delivered over a killer riff and frenetic drumming, and by the end of the song, Rej Forester is unleashing full-on death-metal screams. The rest of the album gets even better from there. GRLwood do righteous rage very well, but it’s far from their only card. They’re also very funny: “I Hate My Mom,” “I’m Having Sex Tonight,” “Gay 4 U.” Most important, they are musically monstrous: Karen Ledford’s drumming, Forester’s guitar work and unique voice, her almost operatic range filtered through a punk rock rasp and shockingly pitch-perfect screeching (see also: Karen O, Kathleen Hanna). Even more important: GRLwood understand the power of dynamics, and so their quieter moments are just as, if not more, effective than the outbursts, making their music so much more than just a full-on frontal assault. I’m sad to report that you’re likely reading about them here first; I’ve seen next to no press about them. That needs to change. I saw them open for Man Man, a show where 500 people instantly fell in love with these young women women. I suspect that reaction is hardly unusual wherever they go. 

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14. Murray A. Lightburn – Hear Me Out

This Montreal songwriter has been leading the Dears for almost 25 years now, through ever-changing lineups, management teams, record labels and degrees of bombast. Odd then, that he may have made his best album when he strips almost everything bare and becomes a full-on crooner. More likely, it says more about my own musical taste than his evolution, but the notorious control freak has admitted that he loosened the reins considerably on this project, bringing in jazz players and engineer Howard Bilerman to do a lot of the heavy lifting. The result is part early Scott Walker, part Belle and Sebastian, part Keren Ann, and even a bit Gordon Lightfoot. It’s always been obvious what a spectacular singer Lightburn is, but it’s at the lower volumes here that he really shines. Also, age becomes him: this is a wise, thoroughly satisfying midlife record he might not have been able to make until now.

15. Geoff Berner – Grand Cosmopolis Hotel

Berner is the kind of artist whose interests and opinions threaten to overshadow his music; reading his liner notes are almost as entertaining as the songs they’re meant to accompany. But make no mistake: the man is a master, as plenty of material from his almost 20-year career will illustrate. Berner, who recently founded an ecosocialist political party in B.C. in his not-so-spare time, writes here about the perils of being a left-wing Jew resisting orthodoxy from all sides of the political spectrum (“Not the Jew I Had In Mind”), of ever-present anti-Semitism (“Would You Hide Me?”), of smug preppers (“Oh You Survivalists”) and of clearly obvious political solutions to the world’s ills (“Why Don’t We Just Take the Billionaires’ Money Away?”). Instead of punchlines, he offers gut-punchers; a Berner song is much more likely to invoke impending doom than to resort to a one-liner. He’s not a political comedian writing songs; he’s an ace songwriter who trades in satire. And he’s one of the best.

16. Ice Cream – Fed Up

As debut records by Peaches and Le Tigre celebrate 20th anniversaries, two Toronto women wielding electric guitars and electronics lead a new charge of political grooves over post-punk no-wave disco that manages to sound remarkably fresh (see also: L.A. band Automatic). Grooves as sticky as “Peanut Butter,” textures as delicious as “Banana Split.” Surprising classic-rock lead guitar on “Bun Roo” (surprising because of the genre, not the gender). But those are just the pop songs that act as gateway drugs off the top. The title track rides a slower tempo and darker electronic sounds, while Amanda Crist and Carlyn Bezic sing, “I’m not a shell for your fantasies … real power, no glossy sheen / queens of the void, queens of everything / I want to be free.” 

17. Leonard Cohen – Thanks for the Dance

“And now you’re gone / you’re gone as if there ever was a you / who held me dying and pulled me through / Who’s moving on? Who’s kidding who?” This is the kind of release that could’ve been what every fan dreads: a icon’s final breaths put to music, in some cases by people he never met—especially when said icon was a total control freak, who often resisted collaborators’ attempts to make his music more interesting (see: Sharon Robinson, Ten New Songs). Thanks for the Dance, on the other hand, is handled with care and respect. Son Adam Cohen is in charge, and he wrangles the likes of Patrick Watson, Feist, Daniel Lanois, Richard Reed Parry, Beck and others to flesh out what are essentially recitations rather than melodies. None of those players is out to hog the spotlight; everything about this record screams humility, from the arrangements to Cohen’s closing line: “Listen to the hummingbird / don’t listen to me.”

18. Chaka Khan – Hello Happiness

“Like Sugar” was hands-down my favourite single of 2018, and the follow-up album didn’t disappoint. The R&B legend sounds as powerful as ever, with a modern sound from producers Switch (Major Lazer, Santigold, M.I.A.) and Sarah Ruba. These are rollerskate jams that Daft Punk dreams of making: killer bass lines, rich funk, and a goddess on the mic. “Don’t Cha Know” harkens back to the slinky grooves of her Rufus days. “Too Hot” is a torchy blues song that puts all new pretenders to shame. “Isn’t That Enough” is a sexy dub jam, and the title track is every bit the equal of “Like Sugar.” Hello happiness indeed: this record is an instant mood-changer.

19. Jamila Woods ­– Legacy! Legacy!

A 13-track song cycle dedicated to key figures in African-American cultural history, set to progressive, jazzy R&B: it sounds like a lot of work, but Woods makes it sound almost easy. “Don’t ever let a textbook scare you,” she notes on the song about Octavia Butler. The grooves are sumptuousness, the production rich, the playing impeccable, and Woods is a captivating vocalist. But listen closer, because she has a lot to say. Obviously—you can’t write a song dedicated to James Baldwin and take it lightly.

20. Lee Harvey Osmond – Mohawk

Maybe you don’t have to be a Canadian over the age of 40 to appreciate this band, but it helps. If the lineage of the Band, Neil Young, Cowboy Junkies, Daniel Lanois, Oh Susanna and Orville Peck means anything to you, then Tom Wilson’s project of the last 10 years fits in perfectly. The industry veteran keeps getting better with age, and this is his first album since his bestselling memoir, Beautiful Scars, in which he discovered his adoption story and his Mohawk heritage. Loping bass grooves (Anna Ruddick), extremely tasteful lead guitar (Aaron Goldstein) and harmonica work (Paul Reddick), and the wind instruments of Darcy Heppner all elevate what could be standard bluesy folk rock tunes. Wilson’s rich baritone is central, of course, but it’s the balance of all these elements in the hands of producer Michael Timmins that really ties it together. As always with this band, this record sounds even better while driving through the Canadian Shield.

Honorable mentions:

Begonia – Fear. Powerhouse vocalist from Winnipeg is poised to break out beyond all borders.

Black Flower – Future Flora. Belgian Ethiopian jazz groove band concoct psychedelic delight.

Theon Cross – Fyah. The only solo tuba jazz album to ever make one of my year-end lists—which makes sense only because Cross is an essential member of Sons of Kemet.

Fet.Nat – Le Mal. Pattonesque high fuckery from Hull, Quebec, which led to the best WTF moments of this year’s Polaris gala.

Kevin Hearn – Calm and Cents. Toronto’s MVP doesn’t get nearly enough love for his solo recordings, and this more meditative collection is one of his best. Featuring just the trio of Hearn, bassist Chris Gartner and violinist Hugh Marsh. (See also: Rheostatics’ comeback Here Come the Wolves, also featuring Hearn and Marsh.)

Michael Kiwanuka – Kiwanuka. The worst thing I can say about this record is that it sounds like an extension of his 2016 breakthrough Love & Hate. Which was excellent. So is this.

Reginald Omas Mamode IV – Where We Going? While we waited for a new Kaytranada album (which finally arrived Dec. 13, after this list was made), there were these funky little numbers, partially recorded during a trip to discover family roots in the Mascarene Islands, off Madagascar. Mamode went “In Search of Balance” and found a lot of off-kilter, Madlibbian and Dilla-esque beats, gospel melodies, ’70s funk, and lots of jazzy licks.

Karen O & Danger Mouse – Lux Prima. In which one of the greatest rock’n’roll singers of the new century shifts gears and lends her voice to an interstellar psychedelic journey set to a Serge Gainsbourg backdrop.

Purple Mountains – s/t. I’m very late to the David Berman bandwagon—too late, obviously. I look forward to diving deeper before the publication of a Berman bio by one of my favourite writers, due in 2021.

Sleater-Kinney – The Center Will Not Hold. Of all the influences to hijack a new S-K record, I did not expect late-’90s Depeche Mode to be the one. This was a necessary experiment that works more often than it doesn’t. But one has to ask: was it worth losing Janet Weiss?

Best 2018 records I heard in 2019:

Gaye Su Akyol – Istikrarli Hayal Hakikattir. This Turkish singer sounds like Googoosh for the modern era, with a bit of Bjork, bossa nova, surf rock, flamenco, analog synths and ’60s psych pop on top of all the usual elements you would expect from the eastern Mediterranean.

Altin Gun – On. Speaking of Turks, this Dutch band embraces the diaspora and filters Anatolian sounds through seriously funky grooves. They followed this up quickly with the fine 2019 album Gece, but start here.

Kikagaku Moyo – Masana Temples. This Japanese band plays German psychedelia with a sitar and a bit of bossa nova, like a weird mix of Stereolab, Black Mountain and Ananda Shankar. Of course it’s great.

Kim Richey – Edgeland. This Americana veteran has been around for 25 years, and keeps getting better. Or at least, that’s what I thought when this here newbie stumbled across this record and then started working my way backwards.

Rosalía – El Mal Querer. The Spanish superstar deserves all the success she found in 2019, but you probably know that by now. For a totally different side of her, check out her understated, acoustic 2017 debut, Los Ángeles.

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Polaris Music Prize, day 5: Shad, Snotty Nose Rez Kids

Here it is! The final of a five-day look at this year’s Polaris Prize shortlisters, culminating in my personal pick to win. Bonus: two more should’ve-beens. Day one is here; day two is here; day three is here; day four is here.

The shortlisters:

Shad – A Short Story About A War (Secret City)

The album:
 
From my October review:

Two years ago, Shad collaborated with avant-garde Inuk singer Tanya Tagaq on a track from her album Retribution. On it, the rapper proved his stylistic versatility on music that didn’t resemble his own, or most other hip-hop, for that matter. Not that Shad had ever fit into much of a mould to begin with, but on his first proper record in five years, Shad goes for a total reinvention. First single “The Fool Pt 1 (Get It Got It Good)” draws from the early ’90s hip-hop that most influenced his early work, but after that he moves all over the map, from bright pop to dark electronics, with lyrics largely focused on conflict and violence in its many manifestations, and maintaining his rep as one of the richest, most poetic MCs working today. He gets musical assist from Kaytranada, Lido Pimienta, 2oolman of A Tribe Called Red (also heard behind the boards on the Haviah Mighty record), and B.C. rock band Yukon Blonde, with some lyrical assist from Toronto underground heroes Ian Kamau and Eternia on the municipal lament “Another Year.”

Only the Yukon Blonde track, “All I Need,” sounds like a potential radio hit, but it’s obvious that elsewhere his music is simply going wherever his lyrical fancy takes him. The only other rapper that springs to mind, who shares this level of lyrical density and musical agnosticism, to say nothing of overall talent? Kendrick Lamar.

The chances: Fair. This is a dense album that rewards repeat listening, and it stands out from the other hip-hop records on this list, both musically and lyrically. Shad himself attracts a lot of good will, and after three previous shortlist appearances, it’s possible the tide could possibly turn in his favour. That said, this is an easier album to respect than it is to love. And on top of that… (see below)

Snotty Nose Rez Kids – Trapline (independent)

The album: Here we go. This is the one.

Excerpts from my May review:

This is not an album you should hear. It’s an album you have to hear.

Right from the first track, “Rebirth,” their mantra is “resist, revive, indigenize.” As I wrote about The Average Savage, this is not music of reconciliation: it is music of resistance. It is inherently political. It pulls no punches.

But it’s also better than that: it’s clever, it’s funny, rich in metaphor, puns and wordplay, and intersects deep references to Indigenous cultures across the country and the history of hip-hop. And while the music is inherently of-the-moment, influenced heavily by trap (which makes the title that much more brilliant), the two MCs are a far cry from the opiated mumblemouths who dominate the genre of the day: SNRK's presence is arresting, animated, playful and gripping. They’re rapping like their lives are on the line, grabbing the listener by the collar and demanding an audience. As yet as uncompromising as the lyrics are, the music is full of hooks, and the beats are brassy and bold.

Then there are the guests. Not surprisingly, Tanya Tagaq shows up on “Rebirth.” Rising Vancouver rapper Kimmortal soars on “Lost Tribe.” Boslen is ferocious on “Creator Made an Animal.” Brevner scores on “Hooligans” and bombs on “Hunger Games.” But it’s the presence of Toronto crew the Sorority on “Son of a Matriarch” that provides the truly historic track here. The Sorority, of course, are a Torontonian all-woman crew (whose Haviah Mighty is also shortlisted), and the track is predictably packed with feminist fire (“Don’t forget you was raised with your face in a tit!”). But SNRK don’t just cede the spotlight to the sisters; they join in with some of the fiercest anti-misogynist lines I’ve ever heard from male MCs. It’s ferocious and invigorating.

And essential. Just like the rest of this record.

I also love this record because I'm a Canadian history nerd who grew up on rap duos and trios (Tribe, Beasties, Cypress Hill), and the interplay between these two MCs is a glorious throwback even though the beats are thoroughly modern. Oh, and this video is amazing: 

The chances: This can and should win. Lyrically and musically, it’s outstanding. Artistically, it achieves its goal and stands apart from other records in the same genre; indeed, it stands apart from other records in any genre. It’s a high-water mark all around. If it wins, it will be the fourth Indigenous winner in the last six years (fifth, if you count Lido Pimienta’s maternal roots with the Wayuu people of Colombia). It will also mark the first Western Canadian winner, and—remarkably—the very first straight-up rap record to win Polaris.

It won’t win because of any of those external factors. It will win because it’s just simply a great, groundbreaking, historic record that’s also a helluva lotta fun.


The could’ve/should’ve/would’ve beens:

Alexandra Stréliski – Inscape (Secret City)

The album:

From my October review:

Alexandra Stréliski is a Montreal pianist and composer whose second album, Inscape, contains several songs that appear in the HBO mini-series Sharp Objects, directed by fellow Québécois Jean-Marc Vallée; she’s also worked with him on Dallas Buyers Club, Demolition, and Big Little Lies. For all the talk about the new wave of Quebec directors running away to Hollywood, the ongoing collaboration between Vallée and Stréliski is heartening. It’s also led to streaming numbers in the multi-millions.

As to be expected, Stréliski’s composition and gentle and meditative, designed to be both evocative and transparent. There is a mournful melancholy throughout, a darkness underneath the beauty; few, if any, of these songs will be soundtracking sentimental rom-coms. In a crowded field of pianists, this record stands out.


Why it didn’t shortlist: I won’t expect an instrumental album of solo piano to shortlist, but that didn’t stop Jean-Michel Blais last year. Maybe it’s too much to expect that to happen two years in a row? I thought Stréliski would have had even more traction, because of this album’s immense popularity in her home province. Her success is one of the best-kept secrets in English Canada; Polaris would’ve helped break that a bit, but she seems to be doing pretty well without it. 

Tobi – Still (Same Plate)

The album: This Nigerian-Canadian R&B artist hit it out of the park on his debut album. Why? For starters, he’s as good a singer as Daniel Caesar, and he’s a far better writer. Check out “City Blues,” where he croons like Luther Vandross and raps like Nas over a jazzy boom-bap, delivering an ode to his mama and displaying a kind of vulnerability that Drake could only dream of, not to mention insight into the vapidity of celebrity culture: “Monetize my pain / commodify my fame.” The rest of the album is just as strong; as a complete work, it easily stands alongside—and arguably betters—shortlisted records by Haviah Mighty and Jesse Reyez, with a dash of Dominique Fils-Aimé (speaking of whom, I’d love to hear her do a duet with Tobi). It's a record that should definitely be part of the Polaris discussion in 2019, a longlister that shouldn’t be left behind. If he follows it up with something as good or better, he’ll be taking home the prize sooner than later. To learn more, there’s a good interview in Billboard here.

Why it didn’t shortlist: It’s a debut album and independent release and it came out in May, mere weeks before the Polaris deadline, so it had limited time to gain enough traction to make the final stretch. (Bonjay suffered the same fate last year, and they made one of the greatest records of 2018.) Mind you, the exact same could be said of Haviah Mighty, but she was already a known entity from The Sorority. All this is to say that don’t be surprised to see Tobi’s name on year-end lists come December. This record is way too good to get buried. 

The winner of the 2019 Polaris Music Prize will be revealed at the gala on Monday, Sept. 16, which will be broadcast online by CBC Music.