Best Albums of 2024

 

One of the lamest rock-critic clinches is declaring a year as "The Year of the Woman." This is rock 'n' roll's equivalent of n"Infrastructure Week."

But looking over my best-of 2024 albums list, more than half of my Top 10 feature feature female vocalists or bands with lady singers. In fact my first four here fall into that category. 

Maybe it was a reaction in my soul to the recent rise in popularity and power by the current version of the He-Man Woman-Haters Club -- or in general the growing threats to women's rights in this country.

Or maybe it's just because these swingin' chicks just happened to make some of the finest music I heard during the last 12 months.

I still refuse to call it "The Year of the Woman."

And yet ...

These are my selections for the best albums of the year. The album names have links to their respective Bandcamp pages where applicable (and, apropo to nothing, HERE'S MINE !!!) You can listen to the entire albums and you can buy any or all the songs you like.

Enjoy.

1. Pink Balloons by Ekko Astral. It seems somehow appropriate in a year in which transphobia became a dark and ugly force in a presidential election that a trans-fronted band would release a rocking, riveting record that’s fun, sometimes frightening, and full of surprises. But that’s just what Ekko Astral did.

But don’t think for a second that politics or sexuality had anything to do with my selection of Pink Balloons as my album of the year. I don’t care if singer Jael Holzman is a woman, a man or a kangaroo. I knew from the first time I heard the album that it would be among my favorites of 2024. This is rock ‘n’ roll like I love it: loud, sometimes discordant, sometimes funny, and poignant without being preachy.

As Holzman told The Washington Post earlier this year,  “… I want some kid in Oklahoma who’s in college and just likes loud rock music to suddenly find that his favorite band in the world is fronted by a trans woman, and he didn’t even know it.” 

I’m no kid, but I’m from Oklahoma and I love Ekko Astral. They quickly joined my favorite new bands I've been turned onto in recent years.

I might be a little biased here because Holzman is a journalist -- an investigative climate and energy reporter. And in fact, she's a former colleague of a former colleague of mine. But it's the music and only the music that matters here. So Pink Balloons is number one this year.  

The opening song "Head Empty Blues starts out with ooky spooky spoken word set on repeat ("I can see you shifting in your seat...") backed by gong-like cymbals and a slow rising feedback crescendo. Then a bass-led riff with Jael coming in like an avenging banshee. She sing -- or recites in a sing-song manner:

Bubblegum vodka / I will carry a knife, it’s my right, won’t cost ya /LOL Kafka / I will bury my life in a Lite-Brite charter ...

Then the crazed guitars move in.

But by the end of the tune the lyrics shift from urgent confidence to gnawing terror:

I’ve got stalkers outside, not going out tonight / Gonna sit and take pics in my underwear / My brain’s bust like Molly Shannon / Just shoot me out a cannon / And as I hit open my head / Can you see it? nothing’s there!

And yet, she's retained a good measure of humor. Not only the Molly Shannon reference but the sassy wink in her voice in the line about taking pictures in her underwear.

And mind you this is only the first song on the album. 

By the way, the above-quoted Washington Post is Ekko Astral’s hometown paper. Yes, they’re from D.C., home of The Bad Brains, Fugazi and Henry Rollins. If Holzman and crew keep making music like this, they’ll deserve to be in the same splendid pantheon. 

Here’s one of my favorites from Pink Balloons, “On Brand” :

2. Cartoon Darkness by Amyl & The Sniffers. Coming in at a very close second place in my top is this album by perhaps the most exciting, the most dangerous sounding band to come out of Australia since Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.

But before I actually get into this record, allow me to digress

Back in 1994 when The Pretenders released their album Last of the Independents, their record company’s promo material for the work included a sheet of advice from Chrissie Hynde to female rockers. 

The most memorable line was “Don’t think that sticking your boobs out and trying to look fuckable will help. Remember you’re in a rock and roll band. It’s not `fuck me,’ it’s `fuck you’!” 

Amy Taylor, singer of Amyl & The Sniffers, ain’t exactly shy about sticking her boobs out. In fact on the cover of Cartoon Darkness she’s actually lifting her shirt and  flashing them (though someone, maybe her record company – digitally censored her mammary glands). And one of the songs here has Amy declaring her love for "Tiny Bikinis."

But  in her music, Amy’s crazy energy sounds more like a rabid wildcat than a purring sex kitten. 

And she has the “fuck you” part of Hynde’s equation completely nailed. The very first words you hear on the album (in the song “Jerkin’,”) are: 

You're a dumb cunt/ You're an asshole / Every time you talk you mumble, grumble / Need to wipe your mouth after you speak 'cause it's an asshole …

Oh, Amy. I bet you say that to all the boys!

Most the songs here are rock-'em, sock-'em stompers -- or POUNDERS!, as my podcasting hero Michael Kaiser of Radioblivion would say -- with Amy's voice out front. But there also are some slower-paced numbers on which Amyl sings, the best one being "Big Dreams," which concerns the need to get out of the house, get out of your doubt-filled head and do something, even if you're broke.:

You got them big dreams, you wanna get out of here / You're sick of being stuck in the apartment /Ya strapped for cash and well, you don’t know where to start / It isn't easy with the price of living ... Just take a breath and get out of this place / I know you can just get yourself together

Back to Chrissie Hynde's advice to girl rockers, her last – and less-quoted --  piece of wisdom was “Don’t take advice from people like me. Do your own thing always.” 

Amy Taylor has nailed that one too.

Here’s another great one from Cartoon Darkness, “U Should Not Be Doing That”:

3. Trail of Flowers by Sierra Ferrell. Sierra Ferrell -- the West Virginia former busker whose music is even more enchanting than her unabashedly weird sense of fashion, released the best country album last year, the bet by a country mile. 

I knew that I’d love Trail of Flowers after hearing "Fox Hunt," which was released as a single a few months.It's a rompin' Cajun-style fiddle tune with thunderous drums that suggests a fox-hunting army coming over the hill. As Sierra wails, it grabs you by the throat and shakes you into submission like a captured fox. This song was one of the major highlights of her excellent show at Santa Fe Brewing Company last summer.

But I think I love another track, "Dollar Bill Bar" -- even more. 

It's a strange tune that starts off as a tale of a woman seeming to mock all her would-be paramours down at her favorite drinking establishment, one of those joints with a tradition of pinning signed dollar bills to the walls. (Here's a real Dollar Bill Bar. in Oatman, Arizona.) 

"Guys like you are a dozen, you should count your lucky stars," she sings at the start of each refrain. But then she scoffs at "every single cowboy's heart" she's broken adding if she had a buck for each one, "Well, honey, I could break a hundred down at the Dollar Bill Bar."

But before you start thinking she's just bragging about all the horny cowboys she's thwarted, we learn that the cowboys aren't the only ones with broken hearts. The last verse turns sad, bordering non self-loathing:

So if I ask you for a dollar bill down at the Dollar Bill Bar / Just think twice before you pony up / Take me for a twirl on that floor / And if I tell you that I love you / And I tell you that I wanna take you home / Just turn around here and leave here / 'Cause I'm telling you you're better off alone

Sierra explores similar territory in the more light-hearted fiddle tune "I Could Drive You Crazy," which is another outstanding track on Trail of Flowers.

I found that the more I listen to the album, the more all the songs start to shine. 

There's the Caribbean-influenced "Why Haven't You Loved Me Yet";  there's "Chitlin' Cookin' Time in Cheatum Country," whose melody sounds hauntingly familiar to "St. James Infirmary"; and the sweet affirmation "Lighthouse," which at first I considered lightweight, until the pure happy spirit opened my eyes and lit my soul. (Weird distraction: For a completely different song called "Lighthouse" released this year, check out the dark and startlingly powerful Stevie Nicks tune, which I believe is her best effort since "Edge of 17.")

Trail of Flowers is bursting with musical gems, virtually every song full of secret treasures. Take it for a twirl on that floor.

The video for "Foxhunt" probably should win video of the year. Dig below:

4. The Collective by Kim Gordon. And now for the easy listening portion of our program ... 

My major take on this record -- a solo album from Sonic Youth co-founder Gordon -- is that No-Wave lives. 

With producer Justin Raisen providing crazy, explosive electro beats and noisy, sometimes grating background sludge, Gordon's punk-girl spoken- word sounds like a logical progression for the No-Wave music and art scene in late 70s-early 80s New York. Out of that world came the likes of Suicide, James Chance, Lydia Lunch ... and Sonic Youth

On Bandcamp she explained what prompted her latest record: 

“On this record, I wanted to express the absolute craziness I feel around me right now,” says Gordon. “This is a moment when nobody really knows what truth is, when facts don’t necessarily sway people, when everyone has their own side, creating a general sense of paranoia. To soothe, to dream, escape with drugs, TV shows, shopping, the internet, everything is easy, smooth, convenient, branded. It made me want to disrupt, to follow something unknown, maybe even to fail.”

Kim has said The Collective was inspired, at least in part, by Jennifer Egan's novel The Candy House, which features a social-media tycoon who invents a device called "Own Your Unconscious," which lets people upload their memories to a "cloud" called "the Collective" in order visit their past memories -- as well as the memories of others. 

"I won't join the collective," Kim sings -- yes, actually sings. It's a plain-stated rejection of giving up her soul to become part of a dystopian nightmare techno world. But that line is followed by "but I want to see you," showing the narrator's longing for human connection, perhaps mourning someone who she lost to that world.

One of the most ear-catching tracks on The Collective is "I'm a Man," which concerns what I referred to earlier as "The He-Man Woman-Haters Club," that seems to be growing uglier all the time. Some of them might recognize themselves in the lyrics: 

Dropped out of college, don't have a degree / And I can't get a date / It's not my fault I'm not bringing home the juice / I'm not bringing home the bacon / It's good enough for Nancy ...  / So what if I like the big truck? /Giddy up, giddy up / Don't call me toxic / Just 'cause I like your butt.

I don't think Muddy Waters done it that a way!

I read somewhere that "Nancy" is a reference to Nancy Reagan. But I think Nancy Mace works just as well.

Here's the video of that song:

5. Kinnery of Lupercalia: Buell Legion by Slim Cessna's Auto Club. Not only did the Auto Club make one of the very best albums of the year, they, along with headliners Kid Congo & The Pink Monkeybirds (more on them later in this post) this Colorado group also performed the best live show I saw in Santa Fe all year.

This is the Auto Club's first release in eight years. It's part 2  of a trilogy of "Kinnery of Lupercalia" albums, which began with Undelivered Legion by Munly & The Lupercalians, a "spin-off" band that includes many of the same members of the Auto Club, including Slim Cessa. The final album in the trilogy will be done by another Cessna spin-off, Denver Broncos UK (DBUK), which also includes basically members of the Auto Club, including frontmen Cessna and Jay Munly. 

Please don't ask me to explain that band name. And please don't ask me to explain the whole Lupercalia mythos. I was relieved when I read this quote from Munly in an interview with Supercorrupter last May While saying it's cool if people want to connect all the themes and characters in the trilogy (and plugs his lyrics book, Chants, Calls and Hollers from Lupercalia, which he says will help with that), he adds:

Conversely, if a person wants to simply go to a show and have a nice time and not have to ‘study’ beforehand to enjoy themselves then hopefully the music and melodies and the band’s delivery can stand on their own.

That's about where I am. For me, all Cessna and Cessna-associated albums, as well as well as the live show reminds me of a crazed backwoods revival, full of religious imagery, songs of salvation, shame and an underbelly of sin and violence, twanging banjos, sweet and sour steel guitar, chants, calls, hollers.

It's a heady mix that defies categorization. And there's also a bitchen song about rabbits:

6. Little Rope by Sleater-Kinney. I was so disappointed with Sleater-Kinney a few years ago when they effectively forced out drummer Janet Weiss right after they released their St. Vincent-produced album The Center Won't Hold.

So Little Rope, to my ears, represents a redemption. And their performance in Albuquerque last March sealed that deal. Despite that bump in the road, Sleater-Kinney still is a major band in my ears. (And listening to Center all these years later, it's not as wretched as I remember, but it still sounds watered-down to me.)

The origins of Little Rope began when singer Corin Tucker received a call from the U.S. Embassy in Italy. (Years before, bandmate Carrie Brownstein had listed Corin as her emergency contact on a passport form, but Brownstein had changed her number.)

The embassy was trying to contact Carrie to inform her that her mom and stepfather had been killed in a car wreck. According to the promo for the album on Bandcamp: 

"In the months that followed, Brownstein took solace in an act that felt deeply familiar – playing guitar. “I don’t think I’ve played guitar that much since my teens or early twenties,” she says. “Literally moving my fingers across the fretboard for hours on end to remind myself I was still capable of basic motor skills, of movement, of existing.”

So it seems appropriate that the albums opener, titled "Hell," deals with the emotional anguish of the sudden loss of loved one, though in the case of the song is about losing loved ones to gun violence.  Here Corin sings:

Hell needs no invitation / Hell don't make no fuss / Hell is desperation / And a young man with a gun.

After which Corin lets loose with her trademark wail, which perhaps is the greatest among living rockers. And, as usual, that wail is soul-cleansing, even though a little frightening.

Later in tbe album, Carrie seems to directly address her loss in the rocking "Hunt You Down" singing 

... I've been down so long, I pay rent to the floor /  I'm reelin', out of sorts, I'm unsteady / Been crawlin' 'round here for days in hopes the walls open up And give way, call me home 

Then, in what I'm assuming to be a message to her late parents, she adds probably the most heartbreaking lines of Little Rope:

I forgive you, I wish I'd told you so / Nowhere for the words to go, with what's left of me / I'll send your ashes my love

The themes of loss, grief and anger stay with Little Rope all the way to the end. Posting on Instagram in January, Sleater-Kinney said that album's closer, "Untidy Creature" was written before they even knew they were working on a new album and they were suspicious about it because it came too easy. However, 

... as the year wore on, and our choices and bodily autonomy shrank, our feeling about the song changed. It became a gift, somewhere to put our darkest fears, and our deepest hopes. We sometimes feel trapped or angry, and yet still we breathe. 

Keep breathing, lCarrie and Corin. You're still making some world-class rock 'n' roll.

Here's the video for "Hell":

7. That Delicious Vice by Kid Congo & The Pink Monkeybirds. As I previously mentioned, I got to see Kid Congo Powers and his pals in October with Slim Cessna's Auto Club, in what was the best concert I saw all year.  I'd seen Kid Congo and those Monkeybirds a couple of times before in New York and Austin. But it felt good to see him here in Santa Fe.

Vice is a strong album full of great riffs and often funny lyrics. Kid Congo doesn't sing, he recites, as if he were a knowing, sometimes sarcastic narrator for his musical visions. In that regard, it's not hard imaging him doing a duet with Kim Gordon.

But speaking of duets, here Kid Congo performs with fellow L.A. Chicano rocker Alice Bag, formerly of The Bags, on "Wicked World," which deals with a streetwalker.

What do they think whеn they see a girl / Looking for saints looking for whores /This is a wicked, wicked world /And you shouldn't be here anymore ...

Kid Congo puts his Hispanic heritage on full display on the (sort-of) title song, "Esse Vicio Delicioso," where his blazing guitar is backed by a cool Latin beat. And with "Never Said," he waves at the "souldies" -- aka Chicano soul or lowrider music -- sound, exemplified by artists like Trish Toledo (who did a fantastic show in Albuquerque this year), Bobby Oroza and Joey Quinones.

Kid Congo (real name Brian Tristan) has a well-known history as a guitarist for three bands I love -- Gun Club, The Cramps and Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. He's not above reminding people about that history. At his Santa Fe show he did some covers of Gun Club and The Cramps. 

But it's high time he was known first and foremost as the leader of The Pink Monkeybirds. They're in a class of their own.

Here's "Wicked World":

8. Blackgrass by Swamp Dogg.  When this record was first released last May, some critics and I'd bet many fans, suspected that this might be the crafty old Dogg trying to cash in on all the publicity of another Black singer "going country." 

I'm talking of course about Beyonce's Cowboy Carter, which was heavily influenced by country and featured guest appearances by the likes of Dolly Parton, Willie Nelson and Rhiannon Giddens.

Black people doing country music? How bizarre! How quaint! Plus, I'm an idiot who's never heard of Al Green nor Joe Tex or Solomon Burke or RAY FUCKING CHARLES...

Back to reality, Swamp Dogg has had country connections at least since 1971, when Johnny Paycheck recorded his hit "She's All I Got," which was co-written by Swamp (under his real name, Jerry Williams, Jr.) and his then writing partner, 60s hitmaker Gary U.S. Bonds. 

Swamp also had a longtime friendship with John Prine. In fact Prine's last recordings can be found on Swamp Dogg's 2020 album, Sorry You Couldn't Make It. Prine and Dogg performed sweet soulful duets on the songs "Memories" and "Please Let Me Go Round Again." Prine died about a month after that album was released. 

This new one is on Prine's Oh Boy label. But Swamp's best Prine connection is his performance of Prine's "Sam Stone," recorded in 1972. Swamp Dogg turns this mournful tune about about a Vietnam vet who becomes a heroin addict into a concert showstopper. (And this year I got to see him sing it live again a few months ago at Americanafest in Nashville.

Blackgrass goes deeper into country and bluegrass than Swamp ever has before. His backup musicians include the likes of dobro man Jerry Douglas, Sierra Hull on mandolin, Noam Pikelny on banjo, fiddler Billy Contreras and two of Marty Stuart's Fabulous Superlatives -- guitarist Kenny Vaughan and bassist Chris Scruggs. And guitarist Vernon Reid (of Living Colour) adds some crazed electric guitar to the stomping hoedown "Rise Up." 

And there are impressive guest singers, Jenny Lewis on "Count the Days" and -- especially Margo Price, who sings the hell out of "To the Other Woman," a tune Swamp and Gary Bonds wrote for soul singer Doris Duke in the '70s.

There are so many great tunes here. There's "Mess Under That Dress," an upbeat bluegrass ode to a sweetheart's not-so-secret charms; "Ugly Man's Wife," which is a distant country cousin of calypso singer Roaring Lion's 1934 "Ugly Woman"; a sweet, slow, almost jazzy cover of Floyd Tillman's "Gotta Have My Baby Back"; and a few mellow but passionate tunes such as "Have a Good Time," "Songs to Sing," and "This is My Dream," which hit that magic sweet spot between soul and country.  

The album ends and an insane, spoken-word "Murder Ballad," which includes lyrics like:

I choked that old heifer out in her room and she died smellin' of Bengay /See they used to make me wear mama's clothes / and all her cheap hair / so for my final trick / I'll go back downstairs and take care of my old man / dirty son of a bitch ... 

So Blackgrass comes in like a horny Earl Scruggs and goes out like Norman Bates. What's not to love?

Here's "Mess Under That Dress":

9.Smoke & Fiction by X. On the second song on the latest album by this pivotal Los Angeles punk band issue what could be seen as a mission statement for this record:

Let's go round the bend / Get in trouble again / Make a commotion / Drink a love potion

However, this might be described as just a sweet invitation to a last hurrah, as X, which has been around nearly 50 years, has announced that this will be its final album.

And the name of the song quoted above is "Sweet Til the Bitter End."

Who knows whether this declaration is actually true. In a YouTube interview with music journalist Lyndsey Parker, John Doe and Exene Cervenka say the band isn't exactly breaking up and that there might be some one-off gigs and maybe even some new songs recorded for "a benefit records or something-or-other," as Doe said.

But the group realized after starting work on Smoke & Fiction that this probably would be their last album. "It's just too hard," Exene said of the record-making process in the interview. 

Smoke & Fiction is a strong follow to their previous album, the excellent Alphabetland, (released in 2020, helping many of us X fans to survive the damned pandemic). That album was their first studio effort in nearly three decades.

I suspect that most who are fans of 2020s X are those of us old enough to love and cherish X in its heyday. But it's possible that there's a new generation of baby X fans. (If that applies to you, you'll just have to go back, if you haven't already, and listen to Los Angeles, Wild Gift, Under the Big Black Sun, etc. You'll be glad you did.)

On one song here, titled "Big Black X," the band reminisces about those golden days of the L.A. punk scene that spawned them:

Hollywood letters fallin' down / Errol Flynn's abandoned mansion / Scary Hillside guy / Angel dust low-ridin' by / We swam into the Pacific / and Windward intersection / Viet Nam vet I met and cannot forget / Bikers on the 101 and / 77 Sunset Strip / Old cars and new scars ... Stay awake and don't get taken / We knew the gutter / Also the future ...

As a proud retiree -- who loved his job but would rather walk barefoot a mile of broken glass than going back to work -- I sympathize. And X's members are about my age. So if they've got to have a "last album," at least this one shows the band going out at something fairly close to peak strength.

Here's the video for "Big Black X":

10. Back in Town by The Frontier Circus. Before Singer Rachel Nagy died in 2022, The Detroit Cobras probably were considered the coolest covers band in the known universe. But now there's another band that's a contender for that title: The Frontier Circus of Conway, Arkansas.

Just don't call them "The Conway Cobras."

The ringmaster of this crazy circus is one Frontier Dan aka Danny Grace, a professor emeritus in theater arts and dance at Hendrix College.

He also sometimes assumes the identity of Rockin' Dan, leader of The Frontier Circus' predecessor in crazy punked-up cover-band sounds, The Rockin' Guys. That group fronted the early '90s (or was it the late '80s?) that still occasionally convenes.

The Frontier Circus initially was touted as country version of The Rockin' Guys, although these days the Circus covers rock and pop classics along with the hillbilly tunes. On Back in Town, the band takes on old favorites you first heard by The Sonics, Neil Young, Jonathan Richman, Donovan, George Jones and more.

Most these songs are at least fairly well-known -- I mean, if you're unfamiliar with "Wooly Bully" or "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'" you should lose your American citizenship. But the Circus also included a couple of songs here that even forced a wizened old know-it-all like me to look up.

I'm talking about "Sylvia Plath," an ode to the dead poet which was written by the late Peter Laughner, a founding member of two massive Ohio bands, Rocket from the Tombs and Pere Ubu -- though he left Ubu after their first two singles and died not long afterwards. (Grace also recorded "Sylvia Plath" with The Rockin' Guys).

Even better though -- and way more obscure -- is "Let's Go Running," which was written and performed by Jim Mize, a singer-songwriter also from Conway, Arkansas, who died in 2022. Though he recorded three albums for Fat Possum, I was totally unfamiliar.

The Frontier Circus do both these songs far more straightforward -- barely any traces of wackadoodle vocals, no crazy theremin -- and far more reverent than the other songs. And they sound real nice!

But the crazy ones are cool too. Frontier Dan is never L7 ...

Honorable Unmentionables

It's Getting Late (...and More Songs About Werewolves) by The Fleshtones

Sick of Being Sick by Jon Spencer

Consumer Waste by Ghost Wolves

Echo Dancing by Alejandro Escovedo 

Purgatory by The Mystery Lights 

XXXX

I was lucky enough to see six of the artists listed above in concert in 2024. Below is a collage of some of my snapshots of Kid Congo Powers, Sierra Ferrell, Slim Cessna's Auto Club, Swamp Dogg, Sleater-Kinney and Alejandro Escovedo:

And I've seen four others live, just not this year: (Clockwise) X, The Ghost Wolves, Jon Spencer (with The Blues Explosion) and Kim Gordon (with Sonic Youth)

For all my annual "Top 10" album lists, goin back to early in this century, CLICK HERE

For a compilation of my annual Top 10 album lists from 1988 (!) through 2003 CLICK HERE 

And below is a Spotify playlist of selected songs from all these albums, more than two hours of rocking glory. I suggest you listen to it on "shuffle" play:

My Favorite Albums of 2023

I haven't done this since right before I retired in late 2019, but there were so many fine albums released in 2023 I've decided to make a Top 10 list this year, even though this blog is my only platform.

Except I couldn't reduce it down to 10. So I'm giving you my Top 15. (In 2019, I only did my "Top 8" because there was still more than a month to go before in the year until I quit my job.)

So here you go, my favorites of 2023. These are listed by album title in alphabetical order. (I frequently have trouble choosing -- then sticking with -- a choice for number one.) I immediately noticed that this meant that my top three records present are in the country/bluegrass mode. So nice break there, you hillbillies. But if you aren't into country: 1) You can kiss my ass; 2) Just keep scrolling down.

By the way, all the song titles below are linked to the albums' various Bandcamp sites (except Marty Stuart's album, which isn't on Bandcamp), where you can listen to and BUY.  (Yes, students, you should actually purchase music you like!)

 Happy New Year, pendejos!

* All Bad by Nick Shoulders. One reason I was hesitant in 2019 to do a full Top 10 albums list was because I sometimes late, late in the year, stumble upon a record so magical, it becomes an instant favorite. That was certainly the case in 2019 when in late, late December I stumbled upon an album called  Okay, Crawdad by a backwoods crooner named Nick Shoulders. I discovered Crawdad too late for my final New Mexican column but just in time to include in the Nashville Scene Country Music Critics Poll,  published in January 2020. "I’ve been a fanatical fan of an Arkansas-born singer named Nick Shoulders for — at this writing — several days now," I wrote when submitting my list.

Shoulders has done two albums since then, Home on the Rage in 2021 and this one earlier this year. And yes, I'm still a fanatical fan of this nasal voiced bard of the Ozarks, who's apparently accepted Jimmie Rodgers as his personal savior. With his minimalist band, named for the album that first drew me to him, Shoulders' basic sound hasn't changed. There is still plenty of yodeling and whistling -- and some occasional mouth bow. And he keeps writing memorable tunes including the title song,  the upbeat "It's the Best?" and "Won't Fence Us In," in which Shoulders reimagines the old Bing Crosby psuedo cowboy song, with a Joni Mitchell "Big Yellow Taxi" thematic twist. 

Because Shoulders has carved a niche as a hillbilly environmentalist, he doomed any chance of being invited to perform with Kid Rock Hank Junior and Jason Aldean at the upcoming Rock the Country festival. Something tells me Nick doesn't care.   

* Altitude by Marty Stuart & His Fabulous Superlatives. I'm going to try to write this blurb without mentioning The Byrds.

Oh shit, I can't do it. 

With this record it's impossible not to recognize the impact that late-period Byrds has had on Stuart. Just listen to the opening instrumental "Lost Byrd Space Train ("Scene 1)" and it sounds as if he's non-verbally explaining how "Eight Miles High" led to Sweetheart of the Rodeo. You might even consider this a showcase of Stuart's knack of stretching the surly bonds of traditional country without once sounding as if he's abandoning his roots. 

One of my greatest joys at a Marty Stuart show was when he did the garage-punk classic "Psychotic Reaction" as an encore a couple of years ago. I was slightly disappointed he didn't include that Count Five fave on this album, but there are plenty of strong, country-fried rockers on Altitude such as  "Country Star," "Tomahawk" and especially "A Friend of Mine," which I've embedded below.

* Bluegrass Vacation by Robbie Fulks. Fulks albums frequently made my annual Top 10 lists. Even Fulks' genre exercises like his previous album with rockabilly matron Linda Gail Lewis and his latest one (in case the title didn't tip you off,  this is a bluegrass album) are full of Fulks' heart and wit and usually have moment of transcendence. And that's true of Bluegrass Vacation, where Fulks is aided by bluegrass giants like Sam Bush, Alison Brown, John Cowan, Jerry Douglas, Sierra Hull,  Tim O’Brien and Ronnie McCoury. (Mandolin man McCoury's presence here reminded me of his participation on a similar project, The Mountain by Steve Earle and The Del McCoury band in 1999.)  

My favorite tracks here are "Molly and the Old Man," a celebration of a beautiful banjo picker and her father; "Let the Old Dog In," which, like Hank Williams' "Move it On Over," concerns a husband in the doghouse; and "Longhair Bluegrass," (embedded below.) 

On this song, Robbie celebrates the bluegrass festivals his parents took him to when he was a teenager in the early '70s with "old men doin’ the buck and wing / Young gals skinny-dippin’ in the spring / While the singin’ and the fiddlin’ and the feedback filled the air / While Mom and Daddy were getting’ fried / I was sittin' there with my eyeballs wide  ..." By the end of the number, Fulks name-checks the high priests of the "new wing" of Bill Monroe's church: Norman Blake, Tony Rice,Clarence White, John Hartford, The Nitty Gritty Dirt band, Earl Scruggs and his sons and David Grisman. These are the spirits that guide this delightful album. 

* Chronicles of a Diamond by Black Pumas. This record has to be the soul album of the year, and The Black Pumas, headed by singer Eric Burton and guitarist/producer Adrian Quesada, have to be the top soul group of this era. 

And a little New Mexico True pride here, as Burton spent his childhood in Alamogordo and later attended New Mexico State University in Las Cruces. As the Las Cruces Sun News said in 2020,  Burton has "gone from performing at house parties in Las Cruces to jamming on some of the largest stages in the world ..." (Check out this video from 2014 of Burton singing the song that would become The Black Pumas' signature song. at a Cruces open mic.)

Chronicles is the studio follow-up to The Pumas' self-titled 2019 debut (another record that would have been on my top albums had I not discovered it in late November of that year after I retired, buying it at a Pumas concert in San Antonio). While mainly sticking to the same basic slow groove as the first album, Burton and Quesada stretch out a little on tracks such as the upbeat, almost poppy "Ice Cream (Pay Phone)" (embedded below); the pounding "Gemini Sun"; and "Sauvignon," which Quesada kicks off with a spaghetti western guitar and Burton sings mostly in falsetto against a psychedelic backdrop.

* Creatures of Culture by The Minks.This irresistible Nashville band was my major discovery of 2023. I caught them live at the American Music Festival in Chicago in early July, and was an instant fan. I loved their high-powered punk/pop/psych/garage sound and was captivated by the sweet, sassy vocals and big smile of singer Nikki Barber.  

Album highlights include rockers like "Motorbike" (The Minks should consider doing a medley of this song and this one!); the slow and trippy country-tinged "Sweet Treat" and "Take It Easy" (embedded below), which thankfully is NOT an Eagles cover. 

* Deano & Jo Deano is Dean Schlabowske, a singer, guitarist and songwwriter in The Waco Brothers, and Jo is Jo Walston, singer of the Meat Purveyors. The two have been married for four years -- a match made at Bloodshot Records, or probably at the annual Bloodshot party at the Yarddog Gallery in Austin during South by Southwest, where traditionally the Purvs played immediately before The Wacos.

This album is a mixture of original tunes (my favorites being "Murlene," written by Deano, sung by Jo) and Deano's "My Evil Twin") plus covers of classic honky-tonk and bluegrass songs. The basic sound reminds me mostly of late '50s / early '60s country, that fabled era when (former Santa Fe resident and personal idol) Roger Miller was writing songs like "A Man Like Me" (embedded below); The Stanley Brothers were singing tunes like "Stone Walls and Steel Bars";  and Nashville stars like Porter Wagoner were still singing Hank Williams songs like "Tennessee Border."

On this album, Deano & Jon are aided by some quality musical pals such as Robbie Fulks, who plays guitar, Mark Rubin of The Bad Livers on stand-up bass and Austin fiddler Beth Chrisman. 

Deano and Jo is nothing but a crazy fun hillbilly romp. And while I do love the latest Waco Brothers album (keep scrolling!) in my heart I love this one even more.

* Death is Forever by The Dead Brothers. Not surprisingly this Swiss band -- who called themselves a "death blues funeral trash orchestra" always had an aura of death round them. That's even more true on this record, which was recorded in 2021, shortly before the death of singer and frontman Alain Croubalian. They always did sound like a world-weary, mournful Bizarro World Salvation Army band, a typical banjo/tuba/harmonium group with gypsy jazz and New Orleans second-line overtones. But because of Croubalian's passing, this album has that extra kick, a melodic testament to the fact that death don't have no mercy in this land.

As usual, most of the songs on their final album are Croubalian originals, some of my favorites including the delicate, ethereal "500 Horses," the snazzy, jazzy "Diamond Mind," and "Whalebone," which Tom Waits would have loved to have written. And there are a handful of songs from other sources here, including the oft-covered "Wayfaring Stranger," "I Wrote a Book," written by another singer who died too soon, Blaze Foley and "Amara Terra," a "work song of the olive harvesters of the Abruzzo region" popularized by Italian pop star Domenico Modugno and transformed by The Dead Brothers into a hymn-like dirge.

So, in tribute to his life, here's a hearty "Fare Thee Well" to the Dead Brother Supreme,  Alain Croubalian: 

* Get Behind the Wheel by Eilen Jewell. Eilen is an artist who just seems to get better and better with age and continues to amaze and delight with her latest record. (Not only that, this former St. John's College student who began her performing career busking at the Santa Fe Farmers Market, put on an excellent free show on the Plaza this year, which was even stronger than her show at Tumbleroot in 2022.) 

Though my favorite Eilen album still is Gypsy (2019). Get Behind the Wheel is pure gold. From Jerry Miller's nasty guitar licks and Eilen's desperate-sounding, moaning vocals that open the album on the smoldering "Alive" through the meandering, swampy blues of "The Bitter End," this work is a winner

Embedded below is one of my Wheel favorites, "Lethal Love."

* Glory by Barrence Whitfield & The Savages. On their latest album, Barrence and band keep doing what they do best: play hard-charging, early-R&B fortified, garage/punk-informed rock 'n' roll. Though the term "party record' normally refers to X-rated comedy from the '50s and '60s -- and Barrence is no Redd Foxx or Rusty Warren -- "party record" is exactly what Glory is. I wish all the parties I get invited to were as fun as this album.

This actually is a return to form for Whitfield. His previous album, Songs from the Sun Ra Cosmos, credited to "The Barrence Whitfield Soul Savage Arkestra," was a tribute to the late jazz man/mystic who was born Herman Blount. That was a fun experiment, but I prefer his work with the actual 

Savages, propelled by guitarist, former New Mexico resident, and longtime Whitfield collaborator Peter Greenberg and sax man Tom Quartulli.

Basically every glorious Glory song is joyful romp, and any one of them would make an excellent introduction for those not acquainted with Whitfield, though if forced to choose my favorite, it would be the short, punchy  “Cape May Diamond,” (embedded below).

* Is Heaven Real? How Would I Know by Johnny Dowd. Is Johnny Dowd real? I think probably so.

The ever prolific Dowd once again offers a tasty, if curious, mix of deconstructed, often discordant rock 'n' roll, Okie humor, fascinating madness and, ever so often, terrifying tales of people on the ledge. (All this and an album cover by Mekon/Waco Brother Jon Langford.) 

Dowd's first solo album was called The Wrong Side of Memphis. The new one could be called "Return to Memphis," as it was recorded in that town, where Dowd has lived at least a couple of times in his youth. Heaven features several Memphis musicians, including singer and upright bass player Amy Lavere and her husband Will Sexton, who plays guitar on the record and produced it.  

The sound of Memphis soul definitely permeates the album, but, as is the case with most of Dowd's influences, it's a mutated, otherworldly version of the sound. Probably the most striking example is the title song, slow somber death march of a tune punctuated by eery, spook-house soprano vocalizing.

On the other end, there are some downright whimsical tunes, bouncy little numbers that sound as if they might have come from the world of British Music Hall or maybe even some obscure foreign cartoon. These include "Pillow," "LSD" and "Black and Shiny Crow" (embedded below). At least the middle section. This remarkable journey to the center of Dowd's weirdness starts out with slow Randy Newman-like piano meditation. That only blasts a few seconds. Then he goes into a cartoony section. But right past the two-minute mark, the song turns into a jazzy blues (or maybe a bluesy jazz) vamp, which goes on for six minutes. Truly inspirational!

* The Men That God Forgot by The Waco Brothers. Like creators of other favorite albums this year -- Robbie Fulks', Barrence Whitfield's and Deano & Jo's -- the Wacos are refugees from the old Bloodshot Records, the label was responsible for stretching the boundaries of the alt country scare of the '90s. Led by founding Mekon Jon Langford, who apparently starts a new band any time he has a spare moment, the Waco Brothers embodied the crazy spirit of Bloodshot. I mentioned the Yarddog SXSW parties up in the section on Deano & Jo. The Wacos almost always headlined that party  and almost always blasted the audience into a blissful state of cosmic consciousness -- or at least, drunken joy.

Although they originally billed themselves as "insurgent country," there's actually not much "country" in The Men That God Forgot -- save a couple of songs like "Blowin' My Top" and "George Walked With Jesus" (both Deano songs). Even with the presence of Tracy Dear's mandolin (which he usually plays like a rhythm guitar instead of a lead instrument like you hear in bluegrass) and Jean Cooke's fiddle, the overall sound of the Wacos in recent years has been muscular, guitar-driven roots-rock. 

But damned fine muscular, guitar-driven roots-rock.

I can't wait until the next time I see The Wacos (it's been too many years!) and hear them play some of these new songs like the title song, "The Best That Money Can Buy" and, my personal favorite, at least at the moment, "Backstage at the Boneyard" (embedded below).

* These Things Remain Unassigned by Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.The subtitle of this compilation, the San Francisco band's first release in more than 20 years, is subtitled "singles, compilation tracks, rarities & unreleased recordings." And indeed it's an odds 'n' sods collection with basically cut reminding me of the mad genius of the Fellers.  

My introduction to the Fellers was when I saw them live in the summer of 1991 at the Off Ramp which I described as "a dark little joint in an ugly part of Seattle." Yes, I was searching for "grunge" but I found something much crazier in the Fellers. When reviewing their album Lovelyville (which I purchased on cassette tape at that show) I noted the album "does not quite capture the intensity of a Thinking Fellers show." The group released many albums after Lovelyville, and while every one of them is full of inspired lunacy, they never matched the intensity I felt at that Seattle show.

 It's hard to describe their alluringly strange sound. Yeah, you can hear strains of Captain Beefheart, a smudge of Ubu, a quick snort of The Residents and echoes of The Shaggs. (They do a sweet version of "Who Are Parents," which originally appeared on a Shaggs tribute album.) You might imagine Jad Fair fronting a local high-school metal group or a Martian marching band playing Tom Waits' most incomprehensible nightmares. On These Things, besides the Shaggs cover, this album also has a couple of tracks of the Fellers playing movie music from  Rosemary's Baby (featuring sinister "la la las")  and A Fist Full of Dollars

It's only a fantasy, but I would love it if the release of this collection -- the first Thinking Fellers album in more than 20 years! -- as a sign that the band will reunite. I can dream can't I? 

* Tropical Breakdown by Pierre Omer's Swing Revue. You'd never guess by listening to this upbeat, happy, jumpy album that Pierre Omer was once a member of The Dead Brothers. But indeed, he was a 

This band has strong echoes of Django Reinhardt, as well as definite traces of the ghost of Cab Calloway and more recent purveyors of such sounds, like Dan Hicks and Squirrel Nut Zippers. Pretty much all the tracks will get your face smiling and feet moving. 

I especially recommend the album opener "Atomic Swing"; "Leslie Kong," (an ode to the great Jamaican record producer;  the slow, bluesy "L’amour a la Plage," which a bass line fans of Concrete Blonde's song "Bloodletting" should recognize;  and  the snappy "Just One Kiss" (embedded below)

* Trouble On Big Beat Street by Pere Ubu. For most of this century it's hard not to think of Pere Ubu as a noir band. Not that you'd expect to hear music from David Thomas and his fellow noisemakers in a remake of Double Indemnity or Lady in the Lake, and not that you hear riffs from the soundtracks of such movies in Ubu's music. But it's obvious from the titles of most of the albums they've released since 2006's Why I Hate Women (which, according to Thomas,  "... is based on the Jim Thompson novel that he never wrote but might have") that noir is in Thomas'' soul. 

Since Why I Hate Women, Ubu has released records called Lady from Shanghai (2013) (the title borrowed from a 1947 Rita Hayworth / Orson Wells murder flick) and The Long Goodbye (2019), which was a Raymond Chandler novel. And back in 2013 Ubu released Carnival of Souls, the title coming from a noir-influenced 1962 horror movie.

And now we've got Trouble on Big Beat Street, which isn't named for any known film or pulp story, though the cover looks, at least at first glance, as if it could have been taken from some noir handbook -- some shadowy guy in a fedora coming out of a dark alley onto a street where the cobblestones seem to be camouflage for an alligator. (I suspect this is a reference to the song "Crocodile Smile," where Thomas declares, "...like a crocodile I will smile / Maybe like an alligator / I will see you later ..."

Like a great noir story, Big Beat Street is an atmospheric, cacophonic tour, full of apprehension, dread and occasionally some weird humor. At one point we go from walking down the street obsessed with a movie in your head ("Make me better off than bled... all over the sidewalk ..." and the next thing you know, you've got gum on your shoe and strange voices are mocking you like a bunch of bratty street urchins ("Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah ...")

As strange as the music is, Ubu sounds stronger than ever, though it occurs to me that I've probably said that before more than once. Maybe Thomas and crew are just getting better with age -- though certainly not more commercial. 

Besides the ones mentioned above, my favorite songs here include the opening track  "Love is Like Gravity," (embedded below), which sounds like sad trumpets,  a scratchy guitar, a fluttering flute and Thomas' tortured voice lost in the woods and trying to call for help. "I light the fearsome night," he sings, "Oh, I like fearsome nights ..." 

Then there's "Worried Man Blues," a dreamlike trip to Clarksdale, Mississippi in which Thomas discovers a Popeye's Fried Chicken right there at the crossroads where according to legend, Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil. And working in that Popeye's are Howlin' Wolf, Muddy Waters, Alan Lomax and Bob Dylan. Then he starts singing an alien version of the old hillbilly song first made famous by The Carter Family. Thomas declares "I'm worried now, but I won't be worried long."

I don't believe him.

* Zango by WITCH. By the cruelty of the English alphabet, this album last on this list. But not in my heart. And, had I listed my favorite concerts of the year, WITCH at Meow Wolf on Sept. 17 would have been at the top of the list.

I was excited a couple of years ago when I learned the documentary, We Intend To Cause Havoc, was playing in Santa Fe. Imagine the excitement on my pretty little face when I learned the band itself was coming to a small venue in Santa Fe.

For those who aren't familiar, WITCH arose in the newly independent Zambia in 1972 (!), led by a young man named Emmanuel Chanda, who went by the nickname Jagari. The nickname was inspired by the Rolling Stones resurrected from its decades of slumber, but the sound owed much more to James Brown (who performed there in 1970), rock 'n' roll and native African sounds. 

The style became known as Zamrock, and WITCH was at the top of this vibrant scene. But as the '70s resurrected from its decades of slumber, economic and political turmoil basically killed that scene. And in the '80s, AIDS claimed the lives of most of the original band members. Chanda retired from music limelight and went to work as a gemstone miner and teacher.

The 2019 documentary led to the reformation of WITCH. The film's director Gio Arlotta, introduced Chanda to the guys who'd become the new rhythm section of WITCH, bassist Jacco Gardner and drummer Nico Mauskoviç, both from The Netherlands. Chanda added more instrumentalists and singers so WITCH could be "resurrected from its decades of slumber"

Recorded at DB Studios in Lusaka, Zambia, where most of the original band made their magic, Zango

is clearly rooted in '70s Zamrock -- plenty of wah-wah guitars -- but has incorporated more modern sounds as well. WITCH pulls that off without a hitch.

Standout tracks include the opener, "By the Time You Realize," a slow groove in which Chandra raps the lyrics and is joined by female vocalists in the sing-song chorus,; "Waile," which sounds like a prime candidate for the soundtrack of a remake of Shaft in Africa; and "Avalanche of Love," (embedded below), which features lady rapper Sampa the Great (she's pretty great) and a middle section that slows down into a quiet storm.

Then there's "Message from WITCH," which closes the album. Here Chandra, over a bass-heavy backdrop, talks about the power of Zamrock: “It unites beliefs/Conquers xenophobia/It laughs at hate speech/Ends sexism/It erases homophobia/Shatters antisemitism/Embraces every race.”

That sounds like a great New Years wish to me.

For more songs from these albums check my Youtube playlist

And check this Spotify list for all the songs from these albums -- except for The Thinking Fellers compilation, for which Spotify had only a couple of tracks from previous compilations.

And if you're musically adventurous, play either of those lists on shuffle mode.

TERRELL'S TUNE-UP: Top Eight of 2019 (so far)

The clocks have caught up with me, folks, it’s really time to go. This is my last Terrell’s Tune-up. After more than 32 years at The New Mexican, I’m officially retiring as of Nov. 22.

No, this column isn’t going to be a self-congratulatory walk down Memory Lane, recounting more than 30 years of writing this golden column.

Besides, I don’t want to write a tearful “farewell” column when I’ll probably resume writing music commentary in some form for Pasatiempo in a few months, and I don’t want to have to write a “How Can You Miss Me When I Won’t Go Away” column in the near future. (Those who like my weird tastes in music can still listen to Terrell’s Sound World, 10 p.m. Sundays on KSFR and my monthly Big Enchilada podcast at bigenchiladapodcast.com.)

But I’ve got some unfinished business here. I’m not going to be around at the end of the year, so I won’t be around to do my annual Top 10 album list. Even knowing I was retiring, I’d compulsively been compiling my favorite albums of this year. I hadn’t quite finished, so here are my Top 8 albums of (most of) 2019.

* Deserted by The Mekons (Bloodshot). This is the best album by this 40-plus-year-old band in more than a decade. It’s wild, somewhat cryptic, beautiful in spots — and it rocks like folks their age (or my age) aren’t supposed to rock. The first song, “Lawrence of California,” sounds like a lunatic’s call to arms, conjuring a last-gasp proclamation by a ragtag army of fanatics about to be mowed down. I’m also enthralled by the sweet, melodic, and pretty “How Many Stars?” which has deep roots in British folk music. The story is ancient, but the melody could haunt you forever.





* I Used to Be Pretty by The Flesh Eaters (Yep Roc). This band rose up during the pioneer days of the great Los Angeles punk rock explosion of the early 1980s. It’s a revolving door supergroup that in some incarnations included a who’s who of southern California punk and roots rock. The band that recorded this includes frontman Chris Desjardins, some vocals from his ex-wife and longtime Flesh Eater Julie Christensen, as well as various members of The Blasters, X, and Los Lobos. Desjardins also lends some vocals here. His voice sounds as if he’s just woken up from a nightmare — and his cronies capture the spirit of the unique bluesy, noirish sounds they were making back at the dawn of the Reagan years. The band still is powerful and a little bit frightening.

* Human Question by The Yawpers (Bloodshot). This trio of Colorado roots rockers, whose album Boy in the Well became a serious obsession of mine a few years ago, continue their raw, blues-infused rock. This record grabbed me and refused to let go in the opening seconds of the locomotive onslaught of “Child of Mercy,” which deals with the putrid pangs of romantic collapse. And the next song, an even more brutal romp called “Dancing on My Knees,” sealed the deal. While I mostly like their rowdier tunes, the soul-soaked “Carry Me,” the type of song you could imagine being covered by Solomon Burke, hits just as hard.











Country Squire by Tyler Childers (Hickman Holler). Childers plays country music, basic fiddle-and-steel country music, singing honest tales of life with a little sob in his voice and, I imagine, a little bourbon on his breath. Many of the themes in Childers’ lyrics traverse along well-trodden country themes. Yet when Childers sings, it never sounds corny.

* 3 by Nots (Goner Records). This is an all-woman punk, or maybe post-punk, band from Memphis that I discovered back in 2016 with their second album Cosmetic. Though the new album didn’t take me by surprise like their last one, the sound is no less urgent, painting a bleak, paranoid picture of 21st-century life.








* Too Much Tension! by The Mystery Lights (Wick). A budtender in Durango and fellow public-radio DJ first alerted me to this wailing, psychedelia-touched, garage-fueled band. The Lights are fronted by singer Mike Brandon and guitarist Luis Alfonso Solano, who, inspired by the first-wave garage-rock madness of the old Nuggets compilations, as well as groups like The Velvet Underground and Suicide, started playing together as teenagers. This album is just as good if not better than the group’s self-titled debut.

* Gypsy by Eilen Jewell (Signature Sounds). In recent years, this former St. John’s College student has become one of my favorite lady roots rockers. This, her latest album, is packed with many fine songs, from the swampy rocker “Crawl” to hardcore honky-tonkers like “You Cared Enough to Lie” and “These Blues,” as well as lovely acoustic numbers like “Miles to Go” (which reminds me of Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic”) and even a funny protest song, “79 Cents (The Meow Song),” which deals with sexism and economic disparity and has a catty reference to the current commander in chief.




* Gastwerk Saboteurs by Imperial Wax (Saustex). After Mark E. Smith — founder, frontman, and frothing prophet of The Fall — died last year, surviving members of his band decided to go on together. I was prepared to be cynical about this project, but I was pleasantly surprised. In fact, I’m pretty sure that if someone had played me these songs without mentioning anything about The Fall, I still would have liked them. It’s just good, aggressive, guitar-driven, punk-painted rock.




So long, gentle readers. And watch out for flying chairs!

Updated Nov. 30, 2019 AD

Here's a Spotify playlist with selections from all these albums:

TERRELL'S TUNE-UP: Best Albums of 2018

A version of this was published in The Santa Fe New Mexican 
Jan. 4, 2018

Here is a list of my favorite albums released in 2018.

* The Difference Between Me & You by Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears. Longtime fans of young Black Joe should immediately realize that this record is a back-to-basics move for this Austin band. The Honeybears still have their excellent funky horn section, and a handful of songs here are closer to sweet soul ballads than rump-rousing rock. But the overall sound of Difference is raw and rowdy, with roots stretching back to Bo Diddley and Howlin’ Wolf.



* The Night Guy at the Apocalypse Profiles of a Rushing Midnight by Hamell on Trial. This basically is a song cycle by singer/songwriter Ed Hamell centered around a fictional hardcore dive called The Apocalypse, which is populated by drunks, drug addicts, backdoor beauties, angel-headed hipsters, small-time criminals, and tough guys. It’s a lo-fi affair recorded in its entirety on Hamell’s iPhone in various locales.



* Songs from the Lodge by Archie and the Bunkers. Kids these days, conventional wisdom goes, don’t love rock ’n’ roll like we did when I was a lad. But not these two teenage brothers from Cleveland. Drummer Emmett and organ player Cullen O’Connor have a unique high-energy sound they call “hi-fi organ punk.” Plus, they do a couple of songs here about Twin Peaks: “Fire Walk With Me” and “Laura.” These kids not only have talent, they have taste.




* Thought Gang by David Lynch and Angelo Badalamenti. Speaking of Twin Peaks, this album — full of avant-garde jazz, synthesized rumblings, and sinister beatnik-style poetry — is required listening for anyone who claims to be a fan of David Lynch and his musical henchman Angelo Badalamenti. Recorded in the early 1990s, the music is spooky, unsettling, and sometimes even funny.




* See You in Miami by Charlie Pickett. This guitar singer from Florida had an enthusiastic regional following back in the early-to mid-’80s, but he jettisoned his musical career to become a lawyer in Miami. This album, Pickett’s first original-material release in decades, picks right up from his ’80s
heyday. He still does songs that sound like ZZ Top trying to rewrite The Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main Street.




* Wild! Wild! Wild! by Robbie Fulks & Linda Gail Lewis. Fulks takes a break from the heaviness of his recent work and tears up the honky tonk with a boogie-woogie country gal on this duet album with rockabilly royal Lewis. And Lordy, it’s fun. Wild! is full of rockabilly romps, country weepers, blue-eyed soul, bouncy blues, sweet harmonies, drinkin’ songs, cheatin’ songs ... the sounds that made America a beacon of the free world.




* Benton County Relic by Cedric Burnside. If anyone thought that Mississippi Hill Country blues died with R.L. Burnside — or T-Model Ford or Junior Kimbrough or Paul “Wine” Jones — get your ears on this album and think again. Cedric, who is R.L.’s grandson (and former drummer) has those
blues in his blood. Like the work of all those ascended masters, Cedric’s music is rough, raw, and sometimes hypnotic. Somewhere up above, R.L. is looking down smiling, saying, “Well, well, well ...”




* Years by Sarah Shook & the Disarmers. I was somewhat apprehensive when I got a copy of this album. How could it be anywhere as good as her debut, Sidelong, coming just a year later? Am I bound to be disappointed? But I wasn’t. Her sophomore effort is full of impressive tunes about love gone sour. But there is little, if any, confessional self-pity. Shook’s confidence, pride, and humor frequently shine through the heartache.




* A History of Violence by Harlan T. Bobo. Despite all the songs about romance gone wrong and the tensions between a man and a woman — and the fact that the Memphis rocker got divorced between his previous album and this one, Bobo has said this is not a breakup album. Either way, the songs here are packed with frustration, desperation, and loneliness. And some of the hardest rocking tunes are obviously dark fantasies of wanton violence.




* King of the Road: A Tribute to Roger Miller by various artists. It’s true that most tribute albums suck the warts. But partly because Miller really was one of the greatest songwriters to ever live — and partly because of the caliber of the talent that producer (and Roger’s son) Dean Miller has
wrangled for this project — nearly every track is a winner. The songs capture Roger’s wide emotional range: the funny tunes, cool anthems, honky-tonk stompers, and surprisingly powerful heartache songs. Standout tracks include the stunning bluegrass cover of “When Two Worlds Collide” by the female-fronted band Flatt Lonesome; a soulful take on a little-known Miller song called “I’ll Pick Up My Heart and Go Home” by Lily Meola; “The Last Word in Lonesome Is Me,” by Dolly Parton and featuring Alison Krauss; and the slow, jazzy “Lock, Stock, and Teardrops” by Mandy Barnett.



Honorable mentions (Damn! There really were a lot of fine albums released last year):

Spencer Sings the Hits by Jon Spencer

The Beast Is You by The Electric Mess

Psychic Action by The Vagoos

Clippety Clop by Holly Golightly & The Brokeoffs

Trouble and Desire by The Callas with Lee Ranaldo

Blues Trash by The Reverend Beat Man & The New Wave

Soul Flowers of Titan by Barrence Whitfield & The Savages

Fire Dream by J.D. Wilkes

Smote Reverser by Thee Oh Sees

In This Time by The Ar-Kaics

UPDATED Jan. 6, 2019: Here's a Spotify playlist with 2 songs each from the Top 10 albums and one each from the "honorable mentions" (except Holly Golightly's, which isn't available on Spotify)