Beth Gibbons – Lives Outgrown: The first time I listened to this, I focused on the lyrics and completely missed the arrangements and instrumentation. This time, I’m focusing on the music instead of the words, and I’m blown away. Gibbons refusal to wallow in nostalgia continues to remind me of Robert Plant. Do these songs have shadows of Dummy or Roseland NYC Live or Gorecki Symphony No. 3? Yes, but she never relies on her 30-year-old legacy and instead makes music that feels deeply personal and real. This is a stunning record and I finally understand why so many critics praised it so loudly.
Leon Vynehall – In Daytona Yellow: The consistency of the record is clear now that I’ve spent some time with it, and I love the way Vynehall uses a Leonard Cohen quote—Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack, a crack in everything, that is how the light gets in—as the thread that sews these songs together. The album and the quote remind me of the art (or perhaps “philosophy” is a better word?) of Kintsugi to mend broken things in a way that makes them perfect in their imperfection.
Jay Som – Belong: As I anticipated last week, I ended up buying this. I don’t know if I should have, because I haven’t decided if it’s a good album or if it’s simply an album to pass time between good albums. Even if it’s the latter, though, I enjoy the record and I am enjoying getting to know it.
Madi Diaz – Fatal Optimist | History of a Feeling: As someone who listens to music before I listen to lyrics, Fatal Optimist isn’t grabbing me. I read that History of a Feeling has more going on from a production/arrangement perspective, but it didn’t grab me either. While I like that Diaz created a cohesive mood and theme for both records without crossing into the bloat of a “concept album,” her music just isn’t resonating with me.
Olivia Dean – The Art of Loving: Dean has a flirtatious excitement at the prospect of new love that is infectious, and she portrays real sadness when that love doesn’t work out. I don’t think the album brings me anything particularly new or revolutionary, but it’s a good way to spend 35 minutes. “So Easy (to Fall in Love)” stands out, which isn’t terribly surprising given my soft spot for Amy Allen. Like Allen’s 2024 solo record, though, I don’t see this set making enough of an emotional impact on me to stay in my mind.
George Michael – Listen Without Prejudice, Vol. 1: I have long claimed that this record is Michael’s unheralded masterpiece and deserves all the credit that Faith receives. In 1990, however, most people just wanted to dance and party, and they had little tolerance for Michael’s introspective turn from the shimmering pop of his solo debut and toward the suffering in his community and the broader world. Is it melodramatic in the way that of pop music from the late ‘80s (I’m looking at you, “We Are the World”)? At times, yes. Does it sometimes cross the line into dodgy jazz? The sax solo on “Cowboys and Angels” offers an authoritative yes. Does any of that matter? Not at all. This is a beautiful album and its flaws simply highlight how incredible it is.
Lamb – Back to Mine: I haven’t listened to a Back to Mine mix in a few years, and Lamb’s contribution to the series is gorgeous. I cannot imagine anyone who is open to this type of mix being disappointed, and there were a couple points where I couldn’t help but stop what I was doing and fall into the music. If you’ve liked some of the Late Night Tales series or the Jay brothers’ Good Times mixes and you haven’t heard this, check it out.
Sharon Van Etten – We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong: A few weeks ago, I wrote about this record’s anthemic choruses and the sense of a light in the darkness: that’s still here but listening in the car instead of at home hits very differently. The production seems as if the sound is compressed to lower frequencies, which creates a darkness that fits the album but also keeps the songs from popping out on cheap speakers. While I appreciate Van Etten’s commitment to the mood of the album, the songs that didn’t grab me at first grab me even less in the car.
Grateful Dead – 10/30/73 (St. Louis, MO): Wow! I absolutely love how slow and relaxed the first part of the first set is. A lot of people online hate the “lethargic” energy of this show but the slower tempos let me home in on how the different musicians feed off each other. Also, even though the harmonies start rough, by “Row Jimmy” and “Jack Straw,” the vocals are gorgeous. “Playing in the Band” feels like it should be in the second set rather than closing the first, but I didn’t make it past that song this week so I’m curious to see if the energy changes.
Old friends who made it into rotation this week: HAAi: Baby, We’re Ascending; Pretty Girl: Fabric Presents Pretty Girl
Record store finds this week: I found A Chaos of Flowers by Big Brave in a discount bin, and I’m excited to hear them after hearing We Are Winter’s Blue and Radiant Children last week. I found Laufey’s 2024 Christmas 7” singles on Discogs, which was a fun indulgence. My highlight though was trading in my vinyl copy of Taylor Swift’s The Life of a Showgirl for the Grateful Dead Dick’s Picks 27. I’m sure I’ll buy Showgirl on CD at some point, but in over ten years of fandom, I’ve never been less excited to listen to a Taylor Swift album than I am with this one.