Nothing like a Polaris long list to break my hiatus.
Speaking of which: Hearts on Fire: Six Years That Changed Canadian Music 2000-05! It came out in April! Go buy it! Listen to the playlists! It's about, among other things, the artists that inspired the Polaris Music Prize to exist. I'll be speaking at the Bookshelf in Guelph on Tuesday June 28, in Uxbridge at the Springtide Festival on Friday July 22, and at the Hillside Festival on either July 23 or 24.
15.5 previous shortlisters (not including winners): BadBadNotGood
(2xLL, 2xSL), Jean-Michel Blais (1xLL, 1xSL), Basia Bulat (2xLL, 2xSL),
Destroyer (1xLL, 1xSL), Julie Doiron (1xSL, 1HP), Halluci Nation (1xLL, 2xSL), Pierre
Kwenders (1xLL, 1xSL), Lisa LeBlanc (1xSL), Hubert Lenoir (1xSL), Les Louanges (1xSL), Ombiigizi
(.5, Zoon)*, Pup (2xSL), Shad (4xSL), Snotty Nose Rez Kids (2xSL), Stars (1xSL, 1xLL), the Weeknd (1xSL, 4xLL)
6.5 previous longlisters, most appearing only once before: Charlotte Day Wilson (2x), Tanika Charles (2x),
Lydia Képinski, Men I Trust, Orville Peck, P'tit Belliveau, Ombiigizi (.5, Whoop-Szo)*
*Ombiigizi is a collaboration between Zoon and Status/Non-Status (FKA Whoop-Szo)
Geography:
Toronto/GTA: 15 (includes many migrants from elsewhere)
Montreal: 13 (includes many migrants from elsewhere)
Vancouver: 2 (Destroyer, Snotty Nose Rez Kids)
Quebec City: 2 (Hubert Lenoir, Les Louanges; do they both
live in MTL now?)
Newfoundland: 1 (Kelly McMichael, though she’s Ontarian)
Saskatchewan: 1 (the Garrys)
Alberta: 1 (Sister Ray)
Nomad: 1 (Orville Peck, born in South Africa, started career
in Vancouver, band is Torontonian, now in L.A.)
Orville Peck's Bronco
The mysterious Orville Peck isn’t the only one with tricky
geography. Tanya Tagaq is from Cambridge Bay, Nunavut, but has lived in many places
and has been based in Toronto for many years. Arcade Fire are ostensibly still
a Montreal band although the primary couple spends most of their time in New Orleans
and the drummer is now in Australia. Backxwash grew up in Vancouver but began
their career in Montreal. Lisa LeBlanc is an Acadian from New Brunswick now based
in Montreal. Montreal’s Basia Bulat grew up in Toronto and started her career
in London, ON. Stars is a Montreal band full of Torontonians and one of their
singers now lives in Vancouver. Tanika Charles is a Toronto artist who grew up
in Edmonton. Shad grew up in London, ON, began his career in Toronto and lived
in Vancouver for many years. Ouri is a South American who grew up in France and
is now based in Montreal.
I don’t doubt there’s even more movement in the
stories of other long-listers.
Gender:
At the peril of misgendering anyone, it looks to me that
there are 19/40 female-fronted or female solo acts; three others identify
publicly as non-binary.
New Canada:
At the peril of… everything, I would guesstimate that 18/40
artists are racialized minorities; four of those are Indigenous.
Myst Milano's Shapeshifter
Genre:
This gets trickier and tricker and more fluid every year. Half
of these records I would hesitate to slot into any particular genre at all other than the "pop" umbrella, whatever that might mean.
Of the other half, I’d say there are:
5 records that could be identified as modern R&B in its
many forms (Adria Kain, Charlotte Day Wilson, Tanika Charles, Pierre Kwenders)
4 rap records (Haviah Mighty, Shad, Myst Milano, SNRK)
2 that could be argued are experimental (Tagaq, Joyful
Joyful)
2 records that are folkie adult contemporary (AHI, Cedric
Noel)
1 that’s jazz-adjacent, angering the purists (BadBadNotGood)
1 that’s country-adjacent, angering the purists (Orville
Peck)
1 that’s metal-adjacent, angering the purists (Backxwash)
And, surprisingly, 3 unabashed guitar rock records (of quite
different stripes): Pup, Sate, Ombiigizi.
Linguistics:
There are three franco artists: Lydia Képinski (my fave), Hubert Lenoir, Les Louanges, and two franglais Acadians: Lisa LeBlanc and P'tit Belliveau. And Pierre Kwenders continues to do whatever he wants in whatever language he chooses. In other words, six non-anglophones in total.
Popularity contest:
Arcade Fire and the Weeknd are the only two names here that
will come up in lay conversation. Maybe Orville Peck. Possibly Stars or Pup.
But expect a lot of shrugging and the age-old response of “I’ve never heard of
any of these people.” Which is exactly why you should listen.
Age:
The old-timers this time are Stars, Julie Doiron and
Destroyer, children of the 1970s who are all on the other side of 50. Tanya
Tagaq is only a couple of years behind them.
Stars have quite a long gap between Polaris appearances: the last time they were long-listed was 2011, for The Five Ghosts. But that doesn't beat Julie Doiron: the last time she appeared on a Polaris shortlist was 15 years ago, in 2007, at the second Polaris ever. You can call these a comeback!
Hall of Famers moving up the ranks:
I tabulate the Hall of Fame by according 3 points for a win,
2 for a shortlist and 1 for a longlist.
CAVEAT: Accuracy by no means guaranteed. I’m not getting
paid for this!
Before this week, the champs were Caribou (3xSL, 1 win) and
Cadence Weapon (2xSL, 2xLL, 1 win), with 9 points each.
Arcade Fire now joins them with 9 points: 1 win, 2
shortlists, and now their second long list. They also won the Heritage Prize
for Funeral (not factored in here).
Shad is also now tied for first place with the above,
despite never having won (4xSL, 1 LL). This year, if he shortlists or wins he’ll be on
top.
(Second tier, with 8 points, has Drake, Owen Pallett and Dan Boeckner of Wolf Parade / Handsome Furs / Operators. No change there this year: Drake's Certified Lover Boy did not make this year's long list.)
Basia Bulat and the Weeknd move to the
third tier of the Hall of Fame (7 points), alongside Feist, Joel Plaskett, New
Pornographers and Patrick Watson.
The Weeknd now holds the quantitative record for most Polaris appearances: six. However, he's never won and has only been shortlisted once, for his debut, House of Balloons (which lost to Arcade Fire's The Suburbs).
BadBadNotGood and the Halluci Nation enter the fourth tier (6 points); both acts have shortlisted twice and long-listed twice before. They join US Girls, Metric, and Besnard Lakes.
Pup and Snotty Nose Rez Kids both enter the Hall of Fame with their third appearance on a
Polaris list; both acts' previous two albums shortlisted (5 points). They join the Sadies, Daniel Romano and Tom Wilson (Lee Harvey Osmond, Blacke and the Rodeo Kings).
My favourite album that didn’t long list:
Salomé Leclerc — Mille ouvrages mon coeur
Runners-up on my personal ballot:
Suzie Ungerleider — My Name Is
Geordie Gordon — The Tower
John Southworth — Rialto
Abigail Lappell — Stolen Time
Future predictions:
Of the four previous winners on this long list, I think only
Haviah Mighty has a chance at shortlisting. But Backxwash has surprised me
before.
Several previous shortlisters are likely to make it again;
many have momentum with widely acclaimed new records, though I wouldn’t put
money on any in particular.
This could be a shortlist with many familiar names.
As for newbies, I expect Chiiild to do very well through this
entire process.
Arooj Aftab – Vulture Prince(New Amsterdam). This Pakistani-American singer has made a
gorgeous record that’s a beguiling amalgam of Dorothy Ashby, Sheila Chandra and
Owen Pallett. Dedicated to her late brother and another lost friend, the “neo-Sufi”
album is beyond haunting, whether she’s singing in Urdu or English. Right in
the middle she drops “Last Night,” an acoustic reggae song comparing her
beloved to lunar majesty. Read a P4K profile here.
Altin Gun – Yol(ATO). A Turkish-Dutch psych-pop band that lean more Talking
Heads than Tame Impala? Yes, please. This band blew me away live a few years
ago, and each record is better than the last. Every player is essential, the
rhythm section is killer, and the new-wave synths are a nice touch alongside
the Fuzzy guitars, Balkan scales and male-female vocals. In yet another bleak
year, this January release was a constant source of sunshine.
Brandi Carlile – In These Silent
Days(Elektra). I’m not ranking anything
this year, but this is the album I listened to the most compulsively after it
came out, the album that sent me to a piano to learn all the songs (not
something I do often). I admired Carlile before, but hearing a 40-year-old
woman knock it out of the park on her seventh album is beyond inspirational.
This is one of the great mainstream singer-songwriter albums of the last two
decades; it’s that fucking good. Opening track “Right on Time” is a total
show-stopper, both as a song and a vocal performance—but she’s only warming up.
Every song here is a stone-cold classic. And did you see her on SNL? Holy shit.
Cochemea – Vol. II: Baca Sewa(Daptone). His record label calls him “the Dap-Kings’
electro-sax space warrior.” Sounds about right. On this album of mostly just
saxophone and percussion, with occasional help from the Dap-Kings’ rhythm
section, Cochemea taps his Indigenous Mexican-American roots to create a swampy
brew with faint echoes of Dr. John’s Gris Gris and the quality control that
Daptone brings to everything it puts out.
Delvon Lamarr Trio – I Told You
So(Colemine). Move over, Khruangbin, there’s
a new instrumental trio on the scene, and this one is not chill. This one, from
Seattle, channels New Orleans legends the Meters almost effortlessly—no small
feat. This is a whip-tight funk band led by an organist and featuring a jazz
guitarist; miraculously, there’s no bassist. Even the cheeseball ’80s cover
totally works, in part because the original material around it is so strong.
Daniel Lanois – Heavy Sun(Maker Series). The Hamilton producer goes to church: a
church in Shreveport, Louisiana, specifically, where the father of drummer
Brian Blade preaches. One day Lanois and Blade heard the church organist,
Johnny Shepherd, and insisted on making a record with him. Praise Jesus, they
did. Heavy Sun is a gorgeous, gospel-soaked album centred around Shepherd’s
voice and B-3 Hammond organ playing, while masters Lanois and Blade are joined
by their regular bandmates, bassist Jim Wilson and guitarist Rocco DeLuca for
gorgeous harmony singing. I’ve been a Lanois fan for decades now, so trust me
when I say this is his greatest solo record, second only to Acadie. One could argue, however, that Shepherd deserves equal billing.
Low– Hey What (Sub Pop). I listened to more Low than
any other artist in 2020, their music offering the ideal mix of extremes: the beauty
I craved and the discomfort I felt. Going through their whole discography made me
appreciate the last three records they made with producer BJ Burton even more:
2016’s gorgeous Ones and Sixes (my favourite), the profoundly strange Double
Negative in 2018, and now Hey What, which pulls back somewhere
between those two poles. Every year at this time you’re likely to hear their
version of “Little Drummer Boy” cutting through the usual dreck; if you haven’t
checked in Low in a while, it’s never been a better time.
Mustafa – When Smoke Rises (Regent Park Songs). “Stay Alive” is the opening track
here—and it’s not a metaphor. When Smoke Rises is about the losses
Mustafa has witnessed through gun violence in his Toronto neighbourhood, and
about a resilient community awash in grief. A child prodigy who’s releasing his
debut album at the age of 25. Worth the wait. Though Mustafa first made his
name in Toronto as a poet, he has a gorgeous singing voice, and the music owes
more of a debt to Sufjan Stevens than my inherently racist assumptions led me
to expect. His first headlining hometown gig? At the newly reopened Massey
Hall, where he was the third performer to take the stage after Gordon Lightfoot
and Buffy Sainte-Marie. Now that’s a baller move. Too bad Toronto police deemed
it a “high-security event” and installed airport-level security outside the
venue, while Mustafa himself wore a backwards bulletproof vest on stage as a
fashion statement. All of which is to say: This is a stunning album, an
astounding debut, and something you absolutely must hear.
Allison Russell – Outside Child(Fantasy Records). Speaking of Brandi Carlile’s mid-career
excellence, this was a breakthrough year for one of Carlile’s favourites:
Montreal-Vancouver-Chicago-Nashville singer/songwriter Allison Russell. Canadian
folk festival attendees might know Russell from Po’ Girl in the 2000s (with Be
Good Tanya Trish Klein) or with Birds of Chicago. The latter band’s JT Nero is
a big part of this record, but it’s very much Russell’s story to tell: these
are at-times harrowing personal stories, dressed up in the velvet glove of
Russell’s luxurious voice. There are some Al Green grooves, some Lucinda
Williams twang, some Norah Jones comfort, and some of Emmylou’s Wrecking Ball: this
is the very definition of what’s called Americana. You can listen to this
record devoid of context and find it lovely; once you listen closer, it’s
profoundly moving.
Yu Su – Yellow River Blue (Yi She Yi Se). This Chinese-Canadian world traveller made perfect
music for a microdosing summer (see also: K.D.A.P.’s Influences). Opening
track “Xiu” layers Chinese instrumentation over a Neu groove and Colleen-esque
layers. There’s some sparse electro-dub, some Four Tet-ian psychedelia, and
even some Prince-like Linn drums on “Meleleuca.” This is a fascinating sonic
journey from a restless spirit.
Tier 2: #11-20 (alphabetical)
Godspeed You! Black Emperor – G_d's
Pee at State's End (Constellation).
Don’t take this band for granted. Yes, it’s largely the same bag of tricks they’ve
explored for the past 25 years, but they’ve never sounded as sonically fierce
as they do here, thanks mostly to engineer Jace Lasek. Godspeed is always more
hopeful than they’re given credit for—even though they literally spell it out
in their stage visuals—and this album arrived at the perfect moment in time. (See
also: Fly Pan Am’s Frontera.)
Geordie Gordon – The Tower (Victory Pool). Perhaps you’ve seen Geordie Gordon in U.S.
Girls, Islands and many other Toronto/Montreal/Guelph acts in the last 15 years.
This is his first solo album, and at times he sounds like an unusually good
synth-lounge act of the early ’80s. Drum machines that sound lifted from old
organs, vintage keys with modern synths delivering one soft-rock gem after
another, with some seriously strong songwriting at the core. Also remarkable is
Gordon’s constantly developing vocal range; having seen him perform since he
was a teenager, I’m never not amazed at the singer he’s become.
Arushi Jain – Under the Lilac Sky (Leaving). This Indian composer and singer, now based in
San Francisco, plays ragas using only modular synths—which are helpful to get
at microtonality unavailable on most Western instruments. This material was
composed for a sunset performance on a rooftop near the Rajasthan desert; it
sounds like it. Close your eyes and you might as well be there. More info here.
Rochelle Jordan – Play with the
Changes (Royal Mountain). This
L.A.-via-Toronto singer channels vintage Neneh Cherry or what the post-drum’n’bass
Brits called “garage,” but I don’t remember any of that music from more than 20
years ago sounding this good (no disrespect to Cherry, who continues to be
awesome). Jordan is a wispy vocal presence, yet effective—and just in time for
the Janet Jackson renaissance. This is the kind of club record lush enough to
feel like a warm bath. Luxurious.
Little Simz – Sometimes I Might
Be an Introvert (Awal). This rap album opens with
martial drums, big symphonic brass and a choir, before breaking into a nylon
guitar riff over a Questlove-worthy beat while a string section swells.
Ambitious? Yep. But this British MC can do anything she puts her mind to—except,
maybe, maintain our interest through way too many “interludes,” what used to be
called skits (why is that still a thing?!). The production here is once again
by Inflo, the man behind Sault (whose Cleo Sol appears here) and Michael Kiwanuka;
he also pops up on the new Adele. If Little Simz wasn’t the charisma magnet she
is (not unlike Haviah Mighty), she’d be in jeopardy of being overshadowed by
Inflo. But this is a perfect meeting of the minds.
Madlib – Sound Ancestors (Madlib Invazion). This producer has likely more than 100
releases to his name over the last 20 years. After the landmark 2004 Madvillain
album, where to start? Right here. Combining his love of jazz and obtuse
samples with his post-J Dilla beat innovation, this is an album assembled with
the help of Four Tet, who brings focus to the usually scattered genius.
Mdou Moctar – Afrique Victime (Matador). There are many artists on this list I would have
loved to have seen live this year, but I do regret that I have yet to have my
face melted off by the electric guitar wizardry of this Nigerien master.
Especially now that he has a large North American indie behind him. Is this
album better or worse than its predecessor? Who cares? Turn it up and
surrender.
Serena Ryder – The Art of Falling
Apart (Arthaus). It seems weird that a
woman with big radio hits here in Canada would be so critically underrated. But
did I read anything, anywhere about this record? One of the most naturally gifted
pop singers working today, her writing keeps improving, and this record is full
of affirmational earworms—“Waterfall,” “Kid Gloves,” “Better Now,” for
starters—that hit me right in the gut during a most difficult year. This record
should be mentioned in the same breath as Adele or Olivia Rodrigo or Brandi Carlile—it’s
that good.
Leanne Betasamosake Simpson – Theory
of Ice(You’ve Changed). The first time I
heard this record was walking on a frozen lake in Simpson’s general vicinity (near
Peterborough, Ontario), a vivid experience I relive every time I put this on.
Simpson is an acclaimed poet and writer; this is her first album. A singer, she’s
not—and that’s not the point (though she’s just ever so slightly AMSR for my
taste). If Laurie Anderson were an Indigenous Ontario folk musician, she might
make a record like this. Musical textures from sister Ansley and producer Jim
Bryson bring her words to life, giving them further depth and colour. A cover
of Willie Dunn’s “I Pity the Country” is essential listening in 2021, but doesn’t
overshadow anything Simpson does on her own.
Suzie Ungerleider – My Name Is (Stella). Ungerleider recorded for almost 25 years as Oh
Susanna, so this is a bit of a rebirth. And what a way to make a mark: this is
easily one of her best records, if not a career high (so far). If she’s new to
you, she’s a short-story lyricist with an exceptional sense of melody, not
unlike a folkier Aimee Mann, writing perfect character sketches like “Mount
Royal” or “Summerbaby” or the devastating “Disappear,” about a child hiding
from an abusive parent. Oh, and there’s a song here with the chorus “hearts on
fire” which also happens to be the title of an amazing book out next April.
Just FYI.
Tier 3: #21-30 (alphabetical)
Cadence Weapon – Parallel World (eOne). The most heartening thing about Cadence Weapon’s
Polaris prize win this year wasn’t that the mid-career musician finally copped
it (after two shortlists and two longlists), but that he was just as weird as
he’d always been—musically, that is, which proves that the world is catching up
to him. Lyrically, he’s more direct here than he’s ever been in his career, and
tough times call for straight talk.
Theon Cross – Intra-I. Theon Cross plays tuba in Sons of Kemet, a band credited
with spearheading much of Britain’s current jazz revival. That band’s prolific
saxophonist, Shabaka Hutchings, deservedly gets most of the attention. But
Cross’s second solo album—yes, the tuba player’s solo album!—bettered his main
project this year, by delving into dubby electronics, hip-hop, cinematic
soundscapes and anywhere else a tuba is not normally supposed to go.
Eris Drew – Quivering in Time (independent). Very little electronic music ever makes me
want to dance in a dark club packed with people—especially now. But this album
does. Apparently it was crafted in a rural New Hampshire cabin where, during
the pandemic, Drew would broadcast DJ sets held in a nearby clearing. With shades
of Chicago house and early ’90s rave with deep bass, actual funk, and constantly
intriguing samples and shifting textures, this is a dense delight.
Equiknoxx – Basic Tools Mixtape (independent). This Jamaican production team began in dancehall
but now go wherever they want, and the weirder the better: like Tricky took an
American R&B artist to make a record in Kingston and only rolled tape
between 2 and 4 a.m. This is murky, muggy, swampy music—and it’s glorious. The
vocalists are a welcome presence, but the instrumental versions speak just as
loudly.
Greg Keelor – Share the Love(Warner Canada).The Blue Rodeo co-lead has put out
several solo albums; this is easily the best since his debut, Gone. Recorded
and then re-recorded live for a video promo, Keelor decided to scrap the original
and go with the live performance. An ace band (including drummer Glenn Milchelm
and Peterborough singer/songwriter Melissa Payne) that was likely pent up from
months of pandemic isolation pour their hearts into Keelor’s music, which
teeters between melancholic and morose as it grapples with gratitude, death and
heartbreak.
Miranda Lambert, Jack Ingram, Tim
Russell – The Marfa Tapes (Sony).
Note: it’s not a “campfire record” unless there’s an actual fucking campfire.
Which there is here: this is as unplugged as it gets, other than the recording
equipment—which may well have been a smartphone, by the sound of it. It’s like
Michelle Shocked’s Texas Campfire Tapes, except instead of a young, unknown
folk singer, we’re eavesdropping on three of the biggest names in modern country
music. Okay, I’ll admit I was only familiar with Lambert, but Ingram has had
No. 1 hits, and Russell is a hitmaking songwriter and producer. Here, the three
of them pass the acoustic guitar and harmonize exquisitely. There’s offside
conversation, crackling fire, and at least once you can hear Lambert say, “Beautiful!”
Which it absolutely is.
Salomé Leclerc – Mille ouvrages
mon coeur (Audiogramme). Snowy-day franco
melancholy rarely gets better than this—except when Leclerc ramps up the drama
with lush strings and Velvet-y rhythms. (See also: Myriam Gendron’s Ma Delire.)
Olivia Rodrigo – Sour (Geffen). Being a 50-year-old man, I’m not the target demo
for this teenage Disney actress who sings about getting her driver’s licence.
But goddammit, she’s good. She’s got a Broadway voice, co-writes a collection
of earworms, and while she’s very much rooted in modern pop idioms, opening
track “Brutal” betrays a lineage from Joan Jett to Liz Phair to Courtney
Barnett—so, right up my alley. How good is she? Taylor Swift and Jack Antonoff
show up for a co-write—and it’s one of the weaker tracks here. The rest of the
album shows immense dynamic range, from big pop ballads to rockers (“Good 4 U”)
to acoustic numbers (“Favourite Crime”) to Lorde-ish self-awareness (“Déjà Vu”).
John Southworth – Rialto (Tin Angel). Stay with me here: Rialto is not just a
14-song album about an insomniac who works as a driver for a writers festival
and must courier a film called The History of Jazz to its premiere:
apparently, it’s also a book and an eight-episode podcast performed by a cast
of 25, made by a perpetual underdog with 13 albums under his belt. I’ll admit,
I have no idea what’s going on here, or if Southworth has simply constructed an
elaborate ruse. But the always-ambitious, hit-and-miss artist comes out
swinging hard, with a strong chamber-pop record fuelled by a muscular string
quartet, arranged by Andrew Downing; guest singers include the Weather Station’s
Tamara Lindeman, Rheostatics’ Martin Tielli and members of Bernice. It’s…
something, to be sure. But I’m pretty sure it’s brilliant.
Vanille – Soleil '96 (Bonbonbon). There were many moments this year when I just
wanted simple pleasure, such as a French woman cooing in my ear over carefully
arranged dreampop à la Alvvays. Which is what made this Vanille record such a
tasty treat.
Reissues:
Willie Dunn – Creation Never Sleeps, Creation Never Dies (Light in the Attic). I’ve been waiting years for this project,
ever since Kevin Howes assembled the Native North America box in 2014. It does
not disappoint. Much like the Jackie Shane reissue, it’s worth it just for the
liner notes alone (both got Grammy nominations). Dunn’s rich baritone is a
commanding presence, communicating painful truths through modern Canadian folk
songs that deserve to be heard far and wide. Howes does exceptional archival
work on all his projects; he has yet to disappoint. This is beautiful.
Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street
Band – The 1979 Legendary No Nukes Concerts (Sony). Recorded at the arguable height of their live
prowess, this is everything I could ever hope for in an archival E-Street
recording, including the “Detroit Medley” that I seem to recall thrilling me on
FM radio in Toronto in the early ’80s. Every time something like this surfaces
I become a fan all over again.
Nancy Sinatra – Start Walkin’:
1965-76 (Light in the Attic). “How Does
That Grab You, Darlin’?” Why, just fine, Ms. Sinatra, just fine. Come for “These
Boots,” “Bang Bang,” “You Only Live Twice,” “Some Velvet Morning” and put on
your go-go boots for 19 more brassy ’60s pop hits, with and without Lee
Hazlewood.
2020
albums I listened to the most in 2021:
Eddie
Chacon – Pleasure, Joy and Happiness. Reviewed here.
Sam
Roberts – All of Us. Yes, I’m in my dad-rock years, and this is as good
an example as any. I’ll admit I’m not a big Roberts fan outside of the
occasional single, but this album really hit home and had nary a dud track—but plenty of dad tracks! (Maybe
it helped that he’s one of my favourite interview subjects in my last two books.)
Lists
I always read (but I didn’t before making this list):
Sean
Michaels’s Said the Gramophone has been doing
this for 16 years now.
Aquarium
Drunkard’s list usually takes me a couple of weeks to get through and I
always find fascinating new things
