March

Ahh, I can finally stop second-guessing myself every time I need to spell February.

February

We’ve reached winter’s halfway point in the Northern Hemisphere, that special time of year when superstitious Americans eagerly delegate weather forecasting to a portly ground squirrel.¹

Icebergs & Ice Chips

Words matter. Nuance matters. But, more importantly, context matters. Because I tend to care passionately about certain things, it’s often tempting to ascribe deeper meaning and intent – either positive or negative – when an interesting chunk of ice floats by.

“Turn it up, I freakin’ love Rush!”

“Really?! Me too! I’ve seen them live at least six times, and have read most of Neil Peart’s books. I really appreciate his unique perspective on life, and I can remember how important those lyrics were to me growing up …”

“Uhhh … yeah, I just think this is a pretty cool song.”

“Oh. Right … totally … great song.”

It’s impossible to know what may or may not lie below the surface unless you make a point to actually look before diving in.

Now Playing: Inner Symphonies by Hania Rani & Dobrawa Czocher

Pianist Hania Rani teams up with renowned cellist and childhood friend Dobrawa Czocher for the perfect accompaniment to a quiet Sunday afternoon.

If you only listen to one song, try “Malasana.”

Quote of the Day

The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.

Now Playing: Welcome to the Machine by Monkey3

I’ve been a huge fan of Monkey3’s unique blend of Hawkwind, Pink Floyd, and just a pinch of Mastodon from the beginning, but they’ve really outdone themselves with their latest release.²

If you only listen to one song, try “Collision.”

There are no heroes or villains, only differing points of view.

I’m making a conscious effort to read more fiction this year, beginning with Madeline Miller’s much-lauded Circe — a radical recasting of the transmogrifying goddess from Homer’s Odyssey. In her original incarnation she’s mostly an obstacle to overcome, but here she’s given a meaningful and imaginative story that manages to be both epic yet surprisingly intimate. Circe’s journey of self-discovery and inherent disdain for godliness is poignantly portrayed in sharp contrast to the pride and self-importance of the Titans and their Olympian descendants.

I particularly enjoyed the latter half of the book, centered around Circe’s evolving relationship with her young son and what it means to be a good parent.

Two children he had had, and he had not seen either clearly. But perhaps no parent can truly see their child. When we look we see only the mirror of our own faults.

Miller has a gift for evocative analogies and clever turns of phrase which often gave me pause. For example, as someone who’s spent many years wearing my self-imposed pursuit of perfection as some sort of merit badge, this passage hit me hard:

I remembered what Odysseus had said about her once. That she never went astray, never made an error. I had been jealous then. Now I thought: what a burden. What an ugly weight upon your back.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. While at times the pacing is a bit uneven, and I wasn’t completely won over until about the half-way mark, Miller crafts a rich character arc culminating in an extremely satisfying final act. ★★★☆☆

A note about ratings: Fives are reserved for only the truly special — the ones I’d grab in a fire. Four-stars indicate exceptional releases that I return to again and again. Those I enjoy and respect receive three stars, and certainly something I’d recommend checking out. Now, a two isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just not particularly memorable.

I want the stuff no algorithm would ever find.

One of my favorite things about Bandcamp is seeing who else purchased the albums in my collection. Often times I won’t recognize anything they own, but it’s when I notice a small amount of overlapping interests that things get interesting. It’s a chance to discover something new from a kindred musical spirit, not a predictable algorithmic best guess based on what I’ve liked before.

I’m reminded of a quote from Steven Johnson’s book Where Good Ideas Come From, where he highlights the concept of the “adjacent possible” (first introduced by biologist Stuart Kauffman) …

The strange and beautiful truth about the adjacent possible is that its boundaries grow as you explore those boundaries.

I’ve been looping Astrid Sonne’s latest, Great Doubt, since its release late last month. Like Tirzah’s Trip9love…???, it’s a gloriously unconventional album of woozy, off-kilter R&B with layers of both electric and acoustic instruments under Sonne’s cool and affectless voice. Picking it up on vinyl was an easy decision.

An album I kept seeing in the collections of those who also bought Sonne’s was Suntub by ML Buch, a name I’d not heard before. Given my love for modern primitive guitar, I was immediately smitten by the organic instrumentation, breathy vocals, and subtle electronic elements. I’ve appreciated getting lost in this intriguing and unexpected discovery, all thanks to my Bandcamp friends.

And that’s the thing, I want recommendations from an actual person who adores music as much as I do. I might love it. I might hate it. But it’s always an opportunity to survey my own musical boundaries … and the adjacent possible.

Eno

Gary Hustwit debuted his new documentary about musician and producer Brian Eno at Sundance, and it certainly doesn’t sound like your typical bio-pic:

Eno represents a new idea about how films can be made and watched. The film is assembled dynamically by a generative software platform I developed with Brendan Dawes drawing from new interviews and footage we shot with Brian and hundreds of hours of unreleased material from his archive. The result is a film that’s never the same twice. Every time Eno is shown, it’s a different movie with different scenes, different music, etc.

Normally I’d be pretty skeptical of such AI-hype. But Eno has been pioneering generative music since the 90s, and given his direct involvement in the project, it all kinda makes sense. Plus, Hustwit and Eno have collaborated before; Eno scored the filmmaker’s 2018 documentary Rams, a portrait of German industrial designer Dieter Rams.

Needless to say, I’m excited to see it.³

January

Apricity (aˈprisədē)
noun rare: the warmth of the sun in winter

2023 Albums of the Year

Before we get too far into the new year, let’s revisit a few of my favorite albums released over the last twelve months. In addition to the familiar faces, there were some real and unexpected surprises.

Beyond this first group of absolute favorites, they’re in no particular order. Hopefully, you too will find something special – maybe even surprising – in this eclectic mix of genres and temperaments.

• Easily my album of the year. Hania Rani’s exquisite third album, Ghosts, floats gracefully between modern classical, avant-garde jazz, and electronica. One of the most beautiful albums I own. ★★★★★
• I instantly fell for the stripped-down guitar, pulsing synths, and plaintive vocals of Miss Grit’s Follow the Cyborg. But it’s the emotional depth, beyond those infectious hooks, that keeps me coming back again and again. ★★★★★
• On the sublime Manzanita, Shana Cleveland’s melodic voice and gentle fingerpicking conjure an intimate nighttime portrait of the California wilderness that’s both soothing yet slightly unnerving. ★★★★★
• Based in New York, but drawing on her European and Middle Eastern roots, Faten Kanaan’s instrumental Afterpoem is bewitchingly beautiful. Its minimal, swirling patterns draw me into a mystical world within worlds. ★★★★★

• It’s easy to lose all sense of time and space in the hypnotic pulse of Föllakzoid’s aptly titled V, an icy psychedelic journey awash in reverb-laden guitars, droning synths, and thumping 4/4 kicks. ★★★★☆
• Nous’klaer Audio continues their streak of cracking new releases with Martinou’s latest full-length, Chiral. This nine-track exploration of lo-fi techno, dreamy house, and euphoric electronica engages both my head and my feet. ★★★★☆
• On The Drowned Ground, Less Bells evoke dusty landscapes and the wordless mutterings of long-forgotten ghosts. Above the soaring strings, lap steel, and muted percussion, listen carefully, and you’ll hear the sound of distant coyotes on the desert wind. ★★★★☆
• Euphoric Recall caught me completely off guard, as I was unfamiliar with Braids. But the Montreal trio have created a pop electronica album of aching intensity, full of cinematic ideas and a sense of raw authenticity. ★★★★☆

• Holocene may well be The Ocean’s most arresting release. Synths and textured guitars are more pronounced this time around, but they still bring the heavy when necessary. The final chapter in an odyssey inspired by the geological epochs of our planet, it doesn’t get more “metal” than that. ★★★★☆
• Tirzah’s hazy vocals over looped piano, sparse guitar, and the same beat on every track? Yes, and it works. Trip9love…??? offers a rule-breaking blend of R&B, trip-hop, and shoegaze, revealing genius in a place of beguiling simplicity. ★★★★☆
• Craven Fault’s Standers reminds me of a particular scene from A Clockwork Orange. Alex walks home alone through a bleak, post-industrial landscape after a night of the ol’ ultra-violence. But, unlike the movie, there’s a glimmer of hope within the rhythmic analog synths and slowly evolving melodies. ★★★★☆
• Lankum’s evocative storytelling is dramatic, beautiful … and heavy. Look elsewhere if you want jaunty Irish folk music. But if you’re ready for an excursion through the darker regions of Ireland, False Lankum is for you. ★★★★☆

We're only a month into 2024, and there are already some promising year-end contenders. Check out the excellent new albums from Donato Dozzy, Torres, and Astrid Sonne. Now, where did I put my wallet …

A note about ratings: Fives are reserved for only the truly special — the ones I’d grab in a fire. Four-stars indicate exceptional releases that I return to again and again. Those I enjoy and respect receive three stars, and certainly something I’d recommend checking out. Now, a two isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just not particularly memorable.

Quote of the Day

Our great mistake is to try to exact from each person virtues which he does not possess, and to neglect the cultivation of those which he has.

Now Playing: Incunabula by Autechre

While I typically reach for the more surreal Amber when the mood strikes, I am now reminded of just how damn good their first album is.

If you only listen to one song, try “Eggshell.”

Now Playing: A New Nature by Esben and the Witch

I finally picked up this 2014 release, their third, on gorgeous bronze-gold vinyl. Not sure I’d call it post-rock, but certainly lives in that neighborhood — with tenebrous undertones, dynamic arrangements, and Rachel Davies’ haunting vocals.

If you only listen to one two songs, try “The Jungle” or “Dig Your Fingers In.”

Quote of the Day

The truly free individual is free only to the extent of his own self-mastery. While those who will not govern themselves are condemned to find masters to govern over them.

Now Playing: Music for Nine Postcards by Hiroshi Yoshimura

Yoshimura writes in the liner notes that he was inspired by “the movements of clouds, the shade of a tree in summertime, the sound of rain, the snow in a town.”

If you only listen to one song, try “Blink.”

December

Ho-ho-holy hell, where did the year go?

Heavy Rotation: Gondwana Records

It’s not a far-fetched notion to think of Gondwana as a modern-day equivalent to iconic jazz labels such as ECM or Blue Note. Personally, I count them amongst my favorite labels operating at the moment, as just about every release resonates with me in a quietly assertive way.

• Hania Rani’s third album, Ghosts, is a masterful blend of her classical roots and avant-garde explorations. Absolute perfection, and sure to land a top spot on my year-end list. ★★★★★
• An Ever Changing View is another fine addition to the blissful œuvre of British trumpeter and band leader Matthew Halsall.⁵ ★★★★☆
• Have Mammal Hands really been going for a decade? On their fifth album, Gift from the Trees, the trio deliver their strongest collection of songs to date. ★★★★☆
• On Terrain, Portico Quartet lean into the minimalist and ambient textures that have lurked beneath the surface of much of their work. ★★★☆☆

A note about ratings: Fives are reserved for only the truly special — the ones I’d grab in a fire. Four-stars indicate exceptional releases that I return to again and again. Those I enjoy and respect receive three stars, and certainly something I’d recommend checking out. Now, a two isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just not particularly memorable.