Apparat – A Hum of Maybe: I listened to A Hum of Maybe a couple times this week, and my initial feeling is that it’s good but not great. A few songs (“Glimmerine,” “An Echo Skips a Name,” and the title track) immediately jump out, but some others sounded embarrassingly bad on first listen. These high and low points make me think about Underworld, an artist who spent the past 25 years riding the wave of their peak work without ever pushing beyond it. Is A Hum of Maybe an album that rides the wave of Sascha Ring’s best work, or does the record push beyond his past?
Dijon – Baby: The more I listen to Baby (and I listened to it a lot this week), the more I hear nods to Sign O’ the Times. It’s not derivative, but rather inspired. Dijon is channeling Prince the way Jeff Buckley channeled Zeppelin.
Dijon – Absolutely: I think I might like Absolutely even more than Baby. The highs aren’t as high, but the record creates an intimate mood that pulls me in and holds me until the last note. I don’t hear Prince as much as the storytelling intimacy of Springsteen, those subdued moments that bring you into the room with the people he’s singing about. (Bob recognized that connection, and once he did, I absolutely hear it.)
Mandy, Indiana – URGH: I’m not sure how I read two or three reviews and none described what URGH sounds like. When I saw the music compared to disintegration (the act, not the album), I was finally intrigued enough to listen. The concept of disintegration fits this well, but as with so much experimental music, URGH sometimes feels as if it’s difficult for the sake of being difficult. I absolutely love the beats, though, and on first listen, Valentine Caulfield avoids most of the irritating stereotypes of noisy and experimental music.
Alex G – Headlights: I listened to Headlights in the car with a friend on a sunny Friday afternoon as spring was peeking out behind the curtain of winter. The record feels like Nick Drake filtered through Mac DeMarco. I doubt this will make it into regular play for me, but the record feels good.
Satchel – The Family: Many people heard ‘70s rock or Prince on this record. What I always heard was a mood, a mood for the quiet and deep companionship of hanging with friends long after the party has ended and the conversation has shifted to hopes and fears and dreams.
Keren Ann – Nolita: The title track from Nolita is one of my all-time favorite songs. It is a hauntingly beautiful chord cycle with a string line that carries it like pallbearers. She begins by repeatedly expressing her desperate need to bury either you or herself. In the chorus, her harmony vocal drops and she is left alone and vulnerable as she sings of her longing to be safe. Then, for more than two minutes, her breath reaches catharsis as she buries—metaphorically or literally?—her antagonist. It is a lifetime of trauma and recovery packed into six minutes, and I have never heard another song that does what it does. The rest of the album is fine, but it pales in comparison to the song “Nolita.”
Keren Ann – La Biographie de Luka Philipsen: While I don’t understand a word of the lyrics, her soft-spoken vulnerability reminds me far more of Olivia Rodrigo or Gracie Abrams than of the chanteuse tropes that had a moment in the early aughts, when this was released. The songwriting and arrangements are rich and complex, and her diverse instrumental abilities (along with those of Benjamin Biolay) result in constant surprises. With all that said, if I never hear “Deux” again, it will be too soon.
Old friends who made it into rotation this week: Oklou: Choke Enough; Paul de Jong: If
Record store finds this week: I picked up the new Mitski, and I found two HAAi singles and one of Jana Horn’s older releases. The biggest find, though, was a bunch of old opera box sets in immaculate condition, and the previous owner even put in their own programs and notes from productions they saw. They were $1.00 each, which makes me think someone died and their next-of-kin dumped their life’s work at a thrift store. I only bought five of them, but I hope it’s enough to keep at least part of this person’s work flowing to another generation.