Best Albums of 2019
Top 10:
"Jaime," Brittany Howard.
"In the Morse Code of Brake Lights," The New Pornographers.
"Between the Country," Ian Noe.
"Mint Condition," Caroline Spence.
"While I'm Livin'," Tanya Tucker.
"Father of the Bride," Vampire Weekend.
"Remind Me Tomorrow," Sharon Van Etten.
"Titanic Rising," Weyes Blood.
"Legacy! Legacy!" Jamila Woods.
"Walk Through Fire," Yola.
Honorable mention:
"U.F.O.F." Big Thief.
"Assume Form," James Blake.
"Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest," Bill Callahan.
"This Land," Gary Clark, Jr.
"In Search of the Miraculous," Desperate Journalist.
"Magdalene," FKA Twigs.
"thank u, next," Ariana Grande.
"Terms of Surrender," Hiss Golden Messenger.
"On the Line," Jenny Lewis.
"Cuz I Love You," Lizzo.
"Stronger Than the Truth," Reba McEntire.
"Blood," Allison Moorer.
"Saves the World," MUNA.
"Songs of Our Native Daughters," Our Native Daughters.
"Pony," Orville Peck."
Jimmy Lee," Raphael Saadiq.
"Dépaysé," Sinkane.
"Sound & Fury," Sturgill Simpson.
"Eraserland," Strand of Oaks.
"Miss Universe," Nilüfer Yanya.
Songs:
"Almeda," Solange.
"Ain't Got No Money," Justin Townes Earle.
"Bad Case," Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real.
"Bags," Clairo.
“Bible and a .44," Trisha Yearwood.
"Black Patch," Kelsey Waldon.
"Blazing Highway Home," Josh Ritter.
"Blume," Nerija.
"The Bones," Maren Morris.
"A Boy Is a Gun," Tyler, the Creator.
"Burning," Maggie Rogers.
"Bus Route," Tyler Childers.
"Calliope," Cassius.
"Caught on the Inside," Ten Fé.
"Cheap Silver," Mike & the Moonpies.
"Cheatin' Songs," Midland.
"Circle Game," Pink.
"Count on Me," The Lone Bellow.
"Cruel Summer," Taylor Swift.
"Dark and Handsome," Blood Orange.
"Dark Places," Beck.
"The Daughters," Little Big Town.
"Delta Line," Emily Scott Robinson.
"Desert Man," Bat for Lashes.
"Don't Feel Like Crying," Sigrid.
"Estrella," Cass McCombs.
"Far from Home," Aubrie Sellers.
"Father," Robert Ellis.
"Fixture Picture," Aldous Harding.
"Freelance," Toro y Moi.
"Ghost," Kaina.
"Gone," Charli XCX.
"Gonna Write Me a Letter," Rhiannon Giddens/Francesco Turisi.
"Good Scare," TORRES.
"The Greatest," Lana Del Rey.
"Hallelujah," HAIM.
"He," Jai Paul.
"Heavy on My Mind," Mavis Staples.
"Hello Sunshine," Bruce Springsteen.
"Hey, Bus Driver!" Tami Nielsen.
"Hey, Ma," Bon Iver.
"Hold On," Aimee Mann.
"Hot Air Balloons," Tank and the Bangas.
"Hot Girl Summer," Megan Thee Stallion.
"Human Question," The Yawpers.
"Hungry Child," Hot Chip.
"Hurry on Home," Sleater-Kinney.
"Hurt," Gallant.
"I Don't Wanna Ride the Rails (No More)," Vince Gill.
"In the Capital," Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever.
"Incapable," Roisin Murphy.
"It's Time," Leonard Cohen.
"Jesus & Elvis," Hayes Carll.
"Lark," Angel Olsen.
"Light Years," The National.
"Lonely As You Are," Charles Bradley.
"Loose Change," Highwomen.
"Lovestained," Hope Tala.
"Lying Down," Celine Dion.
"Messed with My Mind," Molly Tuttle.
"Midnight Sun," Calexico/Iron & Wine.
"Mirage," Jessie Ware.
"Mirror in the Sky," Peaking Lights.
"Mother's Mother's Magazines," Cate le Bon.
"Nighttime Drive," Jay Som.
"No Bullets Spent," Spoon.
"On the Edge of Time," Jens Lekman.
"One More Song to Write," Willie Nelson.
"One Night Standards," Ashley McBryde.
"Open Book," Kalie Shorr.
"Patience," Tame Impala.
"A Perfect Wife," Frank Turner.
"Runner," Tennis.
"The Seduction of Kansas," Priests.
"Send Me a Postcard," Bob Mould.
"Shine a Little Light," The Black Keys.
"Sisyphus," Andrew Bird.
“Solid Ground," Michael Kiwanuka.
"Someone Else," Emotional Oranges.
"Sparrow," Emeli Sandé.
"Starry Night," Peggy Gou.
"Stay with Me," Hatchie.
"Suge," daBaby.
"Talk," Khalid/Disclosure.
"Tell the World I Do," Dee White."
That's Just the Way I Feel," Purple Mountains.
"The Thing That Wrecks You," Lady Antebellum w/ Little Big Town.
"Track Record," Miranda Lambert.
"Used to Be Lonely," Whitney.
"Virile," Moses Sumney.
"Want You in My Room," Carly Rae Jepsen.
"War in My Mind," Beth Hart.
"Water Me Down," Vagabon.
"Weeping Willow," Ruston Kelly.
"Where I Come From," Patty Griffin.
"Working on a Song," Todd Snider.
"Xanny," Billie Eilish.
"Yellow Cloud," Trixie Mattel.
"You've Got Other Girls for That," Lillie Mae.
"Young Enough," Charly Bliss.
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Calexico and Iron and Wine — Years to Burn (Sub Pop)
Photo by Piper Ferguson
It’s been 14 years since the first Calexico/Iron & Wine collaboration, 2005’s In the Reins. In his review then, Dusted’s Daniel Levin Baker astutely recognized that “Iron & Wine and Calexico are not dissimilar enough, as purveyors of sad and elegant country ramblings, to make a provocative combination by juxtaposition alone… it's in the subtleties, the flowers on the wallpaper, that the collaboration bears fruit.” Now, nearly a generation later, the same calculation applies. Both bands tend, at their best, to make subtly excellent Americana songs full of skill and care that doesn’t especially call attention to itself; both have also made records that seemed, to me, overly safe and comfortable.
There is, after all, a fine line between classicism and stasis, and hewing too carefully, for too long, to the elemental essentials can take the fun out of things. Years to Burn comes about as close to this as possible without tipping over; the songs feel pared back and polished and just about exactly right, whether in the gospel-swelling idiom of Iron & Wine’s Sam Beam or in the jazzier, more experimental haunts of Calexico. There’s nothing extra, nothing silly, nothing distracting, these songs are as streamlined as an otter in water, slipping through in cool, frictionless purity.
Beam wrote more than half the songs on this disc, his plainspoken verses set to melodies that pitch and roll and right themselves. His skills in fitting word and melody and rhythm often hides itself, the way a master tailor’s stitches disappear into the cut of the suit, yet they are considerable. Notes the way that “What Heaven’s Left”’s recurring phrase works, the sputtering triplets of “What a wave of a” kicking into the syllable-stretching harmonies of “w-i-i-i-ld hand,” the curve of melody returning “called you into this world?” to where it started. The whole thing knits together so well that it seems like it’s always been there; it lifts the song in an emotional updraft.
Calexico sits in the background on these Beam-written cuts, coaxing a soft acoustic jangle, a plaintive whine of pedal steel, a sudden flare of trumpet in the interval between phrases. On their own tracks, starting with “Midnight Sun” and “Old El Paso,” but really hitting full stride in the Calexico portions of “Bitter Suite,” the band edges further from center. Their “Midnight Sun” has a scrambling, shuffling, desert buoyance to it in the guitars and drums, and a peyote-tinged magic realism in lines like, “Well a woman appeared with a guillotine smile/she handed him a rose then he turned to stone.” (Weeks after the first time through, I continue to ponder the phrase “guillotine smile” and imagine something gleaming, sharp and closing fast.) Calexico is more concerned with rhythm and texture than Iron & Wine, and the layering of electric guitar, acoustic and pedal steel, and piano is particularly fine on this one, suggesting bottomless depths and trap doors out of reality.
The three-part “Bitter Suite” exercises Calexico’s penchant for ghostly Latin laments and jazz-infused reveries. Part 1, “Pajaro,” kicks up a rueful dust with haunted, incandescent Latin guitars and mournful Spanish vocals, sung, I believe by Jacob Valenzuela. Part 2, “Evil Eye,” turns more abstract and improvisatory, with hard bursts of guitar and sudden cries of trumpet. Dreamy floats of vocal sound—think of the soft focus singing in “Woven Birds”—waft through thickets of syncopation. It is satisfyingly strange and lovely. Part 3, “Tennessee Train,” is a Beam song, more grounded in melody and craft, but not dull; Rob Burger takes a turn on vibes, then accordion to fill out its warm wood-smoke-y sound.
Both Beam and the members of Calexico have reached an age where considerations of mortality infuse even the most ordinary moments with a kind of preciousness. Their songs look back on lives and loves and forward towards the unknown with a lived-in mysticism. Beam’s best verse on life and death comes in “Follow the Water”’s deft metaphor: “Two kids climbed on a roller coaster car/Got rattled on the track/Up and down, around and back/Whoever they were/No matter who they are/No one’s walking off the same.” Joey Burns gets off a simpler epiphany in “Years to Burn,” where he murmurs “Years to burn, years to burn/Breezes that die and rise/Years to burn, years to burn/Our tears hold the light in our eyes,” to a swelling country waltz melody.
The most reductive way to hear this album is to hear Beam for the words and Calexico for the music, but that’s not quite the way it works. Beam is, of course, a superb craftsman, whose ability to shape words to the music (and vice versa) can arrest and stun—but he’s also an accomplished singer and guitar player and arranger. Calexico, by contrast, explores musical genres omnivorously and knowledgeably and its members play the hell out of their respective instruments, but they are also capable of a startling lyrical imagery. The collaboration seems to shake both Beam and Calexico out of their ruts. Here’s to many more years to burn for both outfits.
Jennifer Kelly
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