Flea – Honora: Before I found my voice as a bassist, I bought a lot of albums by bass players whose technical skills appealed to my head but failed to reach my heart. Honora is not one of those albums. Flea—who shines more on trumpet than bass—and his bandmates’ performances possess far more heart than head. “A Plea” quickly evolves to a chaotic call to build bridges across humanity. “Frailed” is a vibe that could go double its 10-minute run time and still not get tired. Maybe most impressively, Flea pulls off a successful trumpet cover of “Maggot Brain,” a song that is so perfect in its original form that no one should try to cover it (though, unfortunately, many do). The album isn’t perfect, but it is enthusiastic and exciting.
Japanese Breakfast – For Melancholy Brunettes (and Sad Women): I’m glad I took a break from Melancholy Brunettes because, for the first time, I’m hearing the arrangements and orchestration instead of the chords and lyrics. These songs are layered and rich and complex, like a gluttonous cake filled with beautiful flavors that you can’t even name.
Alan Sparhawk with Trampled by Turtles – Alan Sparhawk with Trampled by Turtles: This is another album that I heard with fresh ears after a break. The lyrics on the opening track, “Stranger,” sit poorly with me (“You gotta clean your dashboard cupholder” are not great lyrics under any measure of greatness) but the song’s sentiment perfectly sets the tone for this album of heartbreak and survival. Thankfully, the lyrics improve, and the record’s tone reaches its climax on the prayer of “Don’t Take Your Light.” The arrangements and instrumentation are totally different than Japanese Breakfast’s Melancholy, but the end result is similar as the members of Trampled by Turtles each find and fill the songs’ open spaces in just the right way.
Grace Ives – Girlfriend: Girlfriend is good, but it’s sitting at the tipping point where I’m either going to dig deeper and etch these songs into my brain, or I’m going to move on and completely forget about it.
Claire Rosinkranz – My Lover: Bob’s reaction to this record inspired me to listen again. Where he heard a fun ride in how the opening track, “City,” transitioned from a piano ballad to a bouncy bass-driven pop song, I heard memories of No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom, an album that is bouncy and fun but fell completely flat for me. Rosinkranz does have some compelling lyrics (“Chronic” comes to mind) and I appreciate that she and her dad, composer/producer Ragnar Rosinkranz, brought a multigenerational family collaboration to the record. Overall, though, I don’t love this record.
Richard Strauss – Arabella (Bayerisches Staatsorchester, Joseph Keilberth): I’ve made it through three of the six sides, but I’m listening in the background and absorbing the atmosphere of the music.
Old friends who made it into rotation this week: The National: The First Two Pages of Frankenstein; HAAi: Baby, We’re Ascending