Andrew’s Top Albums of 2021
1. Low — HEY WHAT
A staggering monolith of an album that grapples with living with the sustained tone, disorientating and destabilizing our lives literally and spiritually. The everyday kitchen sink dramas are sung in angelic harmonies over distorted guitar glitches and feedback loops can take on a “Book of Revelations” biblical scope, which can feel spot on during the worst days nowadays. I don’t think I can top or have much to add than what I wrote in September about the album:
Probably the most impactful time I’ve listened to Low’s staggering new album, HEY WHAT, was at Whole Foods at the end of July right when the Delta variant was sweeping through, reigniting heightened concern and masking protocols. The Whole Foods produce section then was well stocked with the sinking existential dread of endlessly “pushing that rock back up the hill” for what seems to be for eternity while the album’s sounds rushed and echoed in the cavernous, fluorescent lit supermarket but only in my ears.
The pandemic has been simultaneously universal and excruciatingly personal in its specific impact on each of us — a disorientating, sustained tone seeping into and testing everything we do, small or big, day in day out. Low, consisting of a married couple from Duluth entering its third decade as one of the most formidable American music groups, capture this tension on HEY WHAT’s palate of assertive, emotive, yearning songs set in relentlessly brutal and beautiful hypnotic soundscapes.
For the foreseeable future, you may be putting your head down, hand on the plow, and wearing masks like it’s an ancient Greek play to survive alien grocery stores, work weeks, responsibilities, a possibly fraying society, climate change, and have articles on “languishing” opened up on numerous tabs on your browser. Nothing is “normal.” The “everyday” is weird now. We are weird now. You are weird now. But at least we can talk about it — reflect and connect with each other on it. On HEY WHAT, Low is doing that.
2. Bruiser Wolf — Dope Game Stupid
I remember when Macho Man Randy Savage put out a rap album in the 00’s and was offered to freestyle during an interview segment on Headline News and he basically awkwardly recoiled shriveled at the offer on air. Dope Game Stupid, the debut album by Detroit’s Bruiser Wolf, is basically the polar opposite/inverse of that moment — it elbow drops at the moment’s notice for a newcomer to be heard while pulling no punches in its punchlines showing the same savoring, flamboyant showmanship finesse that prime Macho Man showed in the ring on in out of the ring interviews. Danny Brown, head of Detroit’s Bruiser Brigade label and one of the best rappers this millennium, said no one has really done the light west coast butterfly float strutting flow (a la Sugar Free, E-40) with east coast beats until this album. On Dope Game Stupid, Bruiser Wolf shows that he is a lyrical maestro doing back flips and triple axles. You keep coming back to Dope Game Stupid and Bruiser Wolf’s ridiculous flow, picking up on new wordplay and punchlines you previously missed — it may as well be a whole new album (or a comedy album for that matter) layered on top of another album in its 38 minutes length.
Here’s what I wrote when the album first came out:
Right when I was lamenting on this site last week about the lack of new music that was catching my interest, I came across this new album from Bruiser Wolf that’s been steadily stuck in my head ever since. If you dig the singular rap style of Danny Brown (who exec produces the album and guests on it) then check out Bruiser Wolf’s floating, stinging flow, much like West Coast icons E-40 and Suga Free, but with Detroit, Michigan grit here. He has a constant supply of clever verses over layered beats with enough punchlines that this album could practically be considered a comedy album. Just don’t listen to this too much if you need to make work phone calls, otherwise you may find yourself inadvertently emulating Bruiser Wolf’s cadence (which may help out in any negotiations but will most likely throw you off your game).
3. Tirzah — Colourgrade
Society’s conventional wisdom does not really brace you for how physiologically or psychologically bizarre/radical/experimental parenthood is: The notion of time gets simultaneously stretched and shrunken, while a small dependent alien clone that looks like you throws off your entire idea of existence. Colourgrade is an album about parenthood and other human relationships/commitments and its experimental electronic pop matches both the nurturing and disorientating day in day out experience of having a new child. The combination with Tirzah’s plainspoken, heartfelt, achingly human vocals along with the woozy, extraterrestrial minimalist production from experimental soundtrack composer, Mica Levi, (as well as UK elusive enigma Dean Blunt) birth a queasy, intoxicating effect that tickles the senses like an avant garde ASMR. They say the womb is very loud white noise (85 db) and much of this album can feel like you’re listening in utero.
Once again, here’s what I wrote back when it was released:
I’ve been intrigued by the new album, Colourgrade, from UK singer Tirzah. The music feels like it’s composed by combining the sound of a laptop cooling fan with a chopped & screwed version of the tunes that play when you press the “demo” button on an 80’s synthesizer. It’s worth noting that Tirzah collaborates with film score composer, Mica Levi (Under The Skin; Jackie), on her albums. Moreover, Tirzah’s oddly timed, affecting vocals feel like an internal dialogue on heartache comprised entirely of delayed texts on a phone finally being delivered.
4. Iceage — Seek Shelter
Seek Shelter plays like one of those eclectic “best of” albums that hangs together like an album. It feels like it draws upon imaginary different eras of the band (a 90’s Britpop anthem era, 80’s Goth, 90’s indie, 80’s Madchester,90’s Cowpunk/No Depression Alt Country, 50’s Diner Party Musicals(?)) or is an excellent playlist of “classic alternative” (Bad Seeds; Scott Walker, Stone Roses, Happy Mondays, Spiritualized, Blur, Primal Scream, Pavement, Wilco, Springsteen). Heck, “Drink Rain” even sounds like it could soundtrack one of those ballroom bits on “The Muppet Show.” Under the guidance of producer Sonic Boom (who did the same for Beach House, MGMT, and Panda Bear), emulation/imitation is an exciting way for Iceage to expand creatively and find new avenues for their previously scorched earth, smoldering sound.
5. Nick Cave & Warren Ellis — CARNAGE
An album created by the pandemic for the pandemic: CARNAGE is a solemn meditation on pandemic and unrest and its intimate, personal toll. Similar to Push The Sky Away, Nick Cave comes across as a sermonist with a perspective that seems to encompass the entire scientific history of the earth and today’s most scrollable cultural garbage and treats them with the same spiritual weight. Carnage feels like a commemoration of the time — a postcard/time capsule/ancient bottle of fine booze saved and to be savored.
6. Cory Hanson — Pale Horse Rider
The new album from Cory Hanson (of the band Wand), Pale Horse Rider (off of Drag City Records), sounds like if Radiohead’s Thom Yorke decided to make one of his solo albums sound like a Gram Parsons/ Flying Burrito Brothers country-space-rock long playing record. (Also sounds like Cass McCombs and the mid 2000’s indie pan flash Midlake.) The acoustic guitars and atmospheric pedal steel guitars make the album feel like overhead UFO drone views of lonely pools set against So-Cal melancholy mountains at dusk. It brings to mind hushed, folkie Nick Drake ramblings while caught in the middle of some sort of ingestible trip in the desert with a hallucinatory devil floating on the sand mountain horizon.
7. Parquet Courts — Sympathy For Life
Parquet Courts have been around for over a decade and it feels like they were everyone’s favorite new band for about a decade. Now the duration of a decade plus of being a band is showing with the evolution & expansion of their sound. The adventurous album is their most experimental, dynamic, grooviest, dance orientated outing compared to their rowdy indie-garage-almost country twang-punk to their older tunes. It’s like their version of that NYC anxious art-post-punk-dance sound, like Talking Heads or something off of DFA Records (LCD Soundsystem, The Rapture). Yet, it’s also covertly their most melodic and easiest to listen to album too. These songs have a bright vibrancy and playfulness to their unique sound — it feels akin to the vibe of an 80’s or early 90’s public broadcast children’s special on NYC pop art by Keith Haring or Roy Lichtenstein…if that makes sense. (Also, singer/guitarist Andrew Savage has done all the artwork for most of their albums). The harshest criticism I have for it is that it may contain five different versions of the Talking Heads classics, “Houses In Motion” and “Seen And Not Seen”, — and that’s not a complaint at all — it’s actually encouraged/celebrated/given a well earned commemorative plaque for.
8. Tie: Big Dopes — Destination Wedding; Innkeepers — Red Dawn; Thomas Comerford — Introverts
It’s tough enough to go about existing day in day out while keeping a job and a family intact during this disruptive time, let alone make an album during it. That’s why It’s been inspiring seeing friends and local acts putting out great albums during this time:
Innkeepers — Red Dawn: Red Dawn is an airtight EP of songs mixing a Replacements or Big Star yearning soul with a classic power pop guitar polished shine to it a la The Cars, Cheap Trick, or New Pornographers.
Thomas Comerford — Introverts: Like an auteur with a camera, Thomas Comerford brings unique perspective with odd humor in his contemplative lyrics that feel in the vein of Lou Reed, Bill Callahan, and Jay Farrar. The music is a delicious tossed salad of classic rock from Velvet Underground meets Kinks meets Rolling Stones to even vodocoder space ballads.
Big Dopes — Destination Wedding: Great musical sensibility and humorous, emotive, sharp wordplay from singer Eddie Schimd that reminds me of Belle and Sebastian, Jens Lekman (and other Swedish indiepop craftsmen, Peter Bjorn and John at times), my beloved Jarvis Cocker, and even the underrated Clem Snide.
(Tie) 9. Japanese Breakfast — Jubilee
Japanese Breakfast’s Michelle Zauner was asked in a recent interview what the significance was of the hanging fruit (persimmons) on Jubilee’s album cover: “In a lot of East Asian cultures, they’ll hang persimmons. They start out as very hard, bitter fruit, and they mature over time and become sweetened, dried fruit. I liked that metaphor: of being a hard, bitter person who’s been put on display and that has matured over time and has allowed myself to get sweetened.” …and what a apt metaphor that is for Jubilee. The album combines a hard won, weary life experience with delectable, sweet songs that effortlessly combine orchestral Scottish indie (Camera Obscura, Belle and Sebastian), sophisticated, fully produced Swedish pop (Jens Lekman, Peter Bjorn and John), 09’s chillwave (Neon Indian, Mr Twin Sister), Sufjan Stevens horn section indiepop, and even 80’s New Jack swing. At the center is Michelle Zauner’s bright, honeyed vocals giving an emotive but buoyant performance with charismatic lyrics.
(Tie) 9. Liam Kazar — Due North
The power of Paul McCartney and the reappraisal of him has been in full swing in 2021. Could one of the most popular influential songwriters of the last century may actually be underrated? Liam Kazar shows how deep and wide the McCartney well of inspiration is on his debut album, Due North. Kazar is able to channel melancholy through a vibrant colorful sound palate and playful performance much like McCartney, ELO, and Bowie. 70’s radio is on full display in Due North, but there is also a surprisingly generous and covert helping of 50’s/60’s golden oldies country. As I wrote back in August with first review of Due North, Liam Kazar seems to follow a line of millennial singer/songwriters taking on a distinct 70’s sound, but rather how acts like Whitney or Tobias Jesso Jr. mine the comfort food sounds of AM Gold MOR rock, Kazar takes approach similar to Alex Cameron of capturing the sorta funky, alienated, soulful personality of a lot of great 70’s tunes.
(Tie) 10. Dry Cleaning — New Long Leg
New Long Leg is a surprisingly refreshing listen even though there are no hooks or choruses in earshot. Just angular post-punk guitars backing breezy British ponderings that sound like Suzanne Vega’s “Tom’s Diner” if it was a drink or two in and puckish in a graduate school library on a European semester abroad or narrating extremely arch Yelp reviews of the most mundane business establishments. It’s definitely worth a listen if you like the rambling lyrics of bands like Pulp, The Fall, Belle & Sebastian, The Smiths and any of those mid 00’s post-punk revival groups.
(Tie) 10. Sault — Nine
The mysterious UK (???) group, Sault, put out two solid inspired albums in 2020 and now dropped in 2021 a possibly better album that was free to download for only 99 days. Nine provides a very engaging, insightful look at the black British experience. The music is like if you combine Amy Winehouse, D’angelo, The Roots, Can, Silver Apples, and Portishead. Is Kraut-R&B a genre yet?
(Tie) 10. The Weather Station — Ignorance
Ignorance feels like 80’s/90’s light jazz infused adult contemporary on a mission from God. The polished music infuses disco and krautrock and has intricate detailed arrangements and hooks that reward and reveal themselves after multiple listens. There’s a hushed yearning, a rush of urgency about climate change with a swirling intoxicated undertone, like drinking a half bottle of wine and getting amped to take on and solve all the world’s problems and your own.
Listen to my top albums playlist on Spotify:
