The Top 25 Albums of 2023
#25: Slauson Malone 1 - EXCELSIOR
(Art Pop, Experimental)
After years of subtly weaving his production into the work of underground auteurs from Earl Sweatshirt to Pink Siifu to Danny Brown, the glitchy, unpredictable strain of sound collage that Slauson Malone largely helped to pioneer has taken on a life of its own, now a full-fledged, recognizable scene in its own right. But, almost too fittingly, Slauson's second full-length project EXCELSIOR sounds virtually nothing like any of the artist's previous endeavours; not his work as part of the revolutionary collective Standing on the Corner, nor the production on his groundbreaking debut album A Quiet Farwell, 2016-2018 which has long enticed fans with the desperate hope of an eventual sequel. His instinctive desires to provoke and persuade the listener are still here, but this time channeled into a psychedelic fever dream of aberrant art pop that prefers ambiently surrounding itself in an atmosphere of unease over crafting anything even vaguely conventional, Slauson's warped vocals just as often drastically pitched up or drowned in synthetic noise as they are legible. This is, of course, a large part of the appeal; EXCELSIOR is as completely alien to his last album as A Quiet Farwell was to experimental music as a whole, and while the hit-to-miss ratio this time around is not quite comparable to the highs of his past efforts, the time it takes to dissect this record is a more than worthy investment for the still-faithful. That Slauson's music only ever emerges in a form completely defiant of his audience's expectations remains one of the most important aspects of his work - we need more artists this unapologetic.
#24: Goyard Ibn Said - Goyard Comin’: Exordium
(Experimental Hip Hop, Hardcore Hip Hop)
It would be inaccurate to pretend that the newest project from Ghais Guevara isn't something of a disappointment from a lyrical perspective, even if his genius as a producer still remains completely unmatched by anyone operating in a lane remotely adjacent to his. Given the intense, hard-hitting bars driving the themes of his last two albums (particularly 2022's There Will Be No Super-Slave), that Ghais is feeling the need for a change of pace is certainly understandable, and the Goyard persona serves as an elegant way to reframe his music around a more approachable ethos while still satisfying an ever-growing audience of devotees. The 'chipmunk soul' tenets of pitched-up samples and nostalgic drum loops have never sounded more groundbreaking than they do in Ghais' hands, and the beats on Goyard Comin': Exordium are just as consistently incredible as on any of his past projects (no one has ever sampled Beyoncé with this much aplomb). Really, the only distinction to draw between Goyard and Ghais is the former's lack of lyrical urgency, and even if a lower-stakes album full of club bangers is not in itself any less worthy of attention, the less militant approach to Goyard's verses only leaves more room for awkward references and flubbed punchlines to linger in the listener's ears. Still, it's difficult to listen to Goyard Comin' and not end up with at least a few tracks worming their way into your ears by the time it's over; Ghais Guevara remains one of the most important rappers today for impelling a fresh sense of urgency into an inherently political art form that has too often been complacent in recent years, and even on the less immediate projects where that castigating lyricism takes a backseat, the talent showcased through his beats cannot, and will not, be denied.
#23: Real Bad Man, Blu - Bad News
(Conscious Hip Hop, Boom Bap)
Real Bad Man certainly know how to pick 'em; the seasoned producer has an established reputation for crafting concise, efficient projects with some of the most underappreciated rappers around, and while longtime conscious optimist Blu is far from the most obvious collaborator, the results are hard to argue with. In just over twenty minutes of boom bap percussion and smoothly interpolated samples, the two offer a succinct demonstration of Blu's ability to weave his seasoned flow through a nonstop deluge of intricate rhymes, tied together by a number of catchy hooks that set Bad News apart from some of the rapper's more monotonous records. The tightness of Real Bad Man's beats extends here to the song structures themselves; Blu's verses keep things crisp as he alternates between confident slick talk and self-reflection, though admittedly still leaning on the simpler side for those who prefer the rapper's more introspective work. Across nearly two decades of creativity, Blu's albums have ranged at one point or another from short to sprawling to everything in between, and though the scope of his projects produced by Exile astounds for entirely separate reasons, a rapper this blatantly talented can often put out his best (and most widely appealing) work under the discipline of a time limit. In every way imaginable, Blu rises to the challenge that Real Bad Man put in front of him, and one of the most unlikely pairings of the year ended up producing one of Real Bad Man's most unassuming successes to date.
#22: Tim Hecker - No Highs
(Ambient)
The sound of No Highs is one of conflict, of an artist striving to find a balance between hope for the future and despair of what is to come. ("A beacon of unease against the deluge of false positive corporate ambient currently in vogue" is its self-appointed mission; let it never be said that the man with a deliberately placed Abu Ghraib allusion on the cover of one of his albums was ever in danger of being too subtle). But even as Canadian composer Tim Hecker tries to reckon with the very real possibility that ambient music as a genre may be losing its identity, its purpose, the stark immensity of his music never once wavers even as it runs as wide a gamut of emotions as any Tim Hecker project ever has. Scattered bits of electronic Morse tap in and out amidst passages of cavernous noise, organic bass tones, deftly played arpeggios of fluttering saxophone, and countless other sonic elements; few records in Hecker's broad, celebrated discography could claim to feel so saturated with all of his numerous talents. As it is with all of his records, to put into words the feeling that No Highs conjures across is runtime is difficult to the point of futility - there is beauty and serenity here, surely, but also (fittingly) a bone-deep anxiety that things will, in fact, not get better for you or yours anytime soon. 'Unease' probably is the best way to describe the utter lack of surety that Hecker leaves us with, ultimately, and though the future of his style may indeed be nebulous, the legacy of his art is etched so deep into his genre that we have no choice but to believe that it will outlast any and all of the marketable easy-listening noise to come in its wake.
#21: Carly Rae Jepsen - The Loveliest Time
(Dance-Pop, Nu-Disco)
In the grand, sacred tradition of Carly Rae Jepsen following every album release with a collection of synthpop also-rans (if only to prove that most artist's entire catalogues can't even compare to her cutting room floor), the only one not burdened with the 'Side B' moniker is also, somewhat fittingly, the first to actually surpass its namesake in terms of quality. Last year's The Loneliest Time represented a rare misstep in Carly's usually immaculate taste in production and mastering, but The Loveliest Time gets right back into the groove of synthpop perfection that we expect from the most prolific pop songwriter of the modern age. While not quite able to match the sheer quantity of utopian bops present on her best projects, there are still more than enough well-crafted disco throwbacks and sticky dance-pop hooks on here for everyone to find a favourite or two (or three, or four...) to obsess over. In turn, the more subdued moments have been given slightly more real estate this time around, and the delicate composition of tracks like Put It To Rest and Kollage can go toe-to-toe with any of the most memorable ballads from past projects; indeed, this may be one area where The Loveliest Time actually stands superior to those that came before. Any doubts that had begun to creep in after the washed-out mixing of her last album have been immediately silenced; Carly's inevitable second helping was, as always, both promptly delivered and powerfully excellent, yet more evidence that pop music remains her milieu to dominate in any (or every) year that she chooses.
#20: Snooper - Super Snõõper
(Garage Punk)
The best punk album of 2023 is, as has often been the case in recent years, a short, punchy offering of home-brewed guitar shredding and surprisingly conscious lyricism, and though they seem to get shorter and punchier with every successive titleholder, Snooper's inaugural record makes the absolute most of the brief time that it's here. Not since Wire dropped Pink Flag has a debut punk album this stuffed with substance also been so maddeningly erratic; the one time they deign to break the two-minute barrier, they stretch the track out to a full five and a half minutes, which might be irritating if Running didn't also happen to be the best punk song of the year by far. The rest of their material is no slouch either, and despite darting from riff to riff quickly enough to give your ears whiplash, Snooper manage to layer some appreciably meaningful lyrics into each bite-sized track, along with a healthy dose of charm and personality that no doubt contributed substantially to the (well-deserved) notoriety that is slowly building around such a bombshell of a debut record. The driving punk music of Super Snõõper moves only at one speed (blistering), and though a record this capricious will inevitably not be to everyone's preference, those who can manage to keep up with Snooper's pace will find more than enough in the band's scrappy, collectivist ethos to make the journey wholly worthwhile.
#19: Ja’king the Divine - Parables of the Sower
(Conscious Hip Hop, Jazz Rap)
Few rap records in recent memory are as aesthetically tight as Parables of the Sower, a critically underrated project from one of underground hip hop's most well-kept secrets. To the well-informed, Ja'king the Divine has been a presence to watch since the release of 2022's Black Sun Tzu (if not earlier), and his latest project sees a continued honing of his craft atop a well-curated set of instrumentals that blend into a surprisingly cohesive whole. Despite amassing quite a few tonally distinct beats from a number of different producers, the album's sonic palate is remarkably consistent, a cultural multitude rooted in Africa (in Egypt, specifically, as per the track titles) yet stretching across many continents and evoked in instrumentals, verses, and samples alike. Octavia Butler contributes the record's title (and to its themes), but Ja'king's cited influences further run the gamut from James Mtume to Kendrick Lamar, infecting his deft, self-assured rhymes with an unexpected gravitas that heightens the stakes of the album's best moments. It's arguable whether those threads run deep enough to satiate the listeners who came for the titular Butler reference, but those who stayed were no doubt convinced eventually through raw talent alone, swayed by one of the most conceptually ambitious rappers the abstract underground has ever spit out.
#18: James Blake - Playing Robots Into Heaven
(Future Garage, Ambient Pop)
Nearly fifteen years into his career, it would be impossible to ignore the influence that reedy-voiced producer James Blake has had on the worlds of R&B and electronic music, to say nothing of the brushes with mainstream pop that have led to high-profile collaborations with some of the biggest names in the industry today. It's strange, then, that Blake would choose now of all times to release an album that harkens back to the music he was making before becoming such a pivotal tastemaker, as if to show that he did not merely stumble into a style that just happened to be bound for greatness - said greatness was always inevitable for him. Playing Robots Into Heaven features comparatively little of James Blake the singer, yet may be the strongest showing of James Blake the producer's entire catalogue; ironically, the discipline it took to pull back on his own vocals and go back to the basics of looped, pitch-shifted sampling has breathed an entirely new life into his music. The stuttered synth patterns and drum machines might feel out of place after a decade and a half of Blake's minimalist tendencies, though it would be wrong to say that the seeds of this glitchy, ambient brand of electronic music haven't been quietly present in all of his work up until now. The real innovation, then, is in transforming his voice from a focal point to merely another tool in his vast, perfectly blended arsenal, layered seamlessly into everything from spacey techno ballads to thrilling excursions into house and dubstep. That Playing Robots into Heaven might just be the best James Blake album so far says a lot of things about his catalogue, not all of them flattering; still, the most important takeaway here is that Blake's music remains on one hell of an upward slope, and shows no sign of falling off any time soon.
#17: Mickey Diamond, Ral Duke - Oroku Saki
(Hardcore Hip Hop, Boom Bap)
We can only guess how long Mickey Diamond will be able to keep up a nearly double-digit number of annual releases, but for the time being the impossible pace of his output refuses to slow down for even a second. All of his albums this year are notable for one reason or another, but the first Mickey Diamond release of 2023 nevertheless managed to surpass everything to come in its wake, in large part due to a colourful thematic edge that sticks out despite the record's brevity. Constant nods to old-school Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoons and movies exemplify Mickey's character in a rap game already saturated with would-be main characters, and though the abundant samples crowd out much of the room on a record that is already on the short side, the verses that are here make the absolute most of the time they do have to demonstrate just why Mickey Diamond remains one of the most valuable commodities in hip hop today. Equally as important to the animated appeal of Oroku Saki is its production: though Ral Duke is arguably one of the less notable names Mickey has enlisted for beats recently, his unabashedly retro instrumentals are exactly what a record this nostalgically inclined needs, and the verse-less interludes show how effectively his style is able to keep pace with Mickey's sinister energy even on tracks where the rapper himself is not present. Even for those born outside of the optimal window to actually understand all of the references whizzing by your ears on Oroku Saki, this album remains a particularly notable peak in Mickey Diamond's discography, and a compelling argument as to why his vinyl records will continue to fetch impossibly high prices for many years to come.
#16: HMLTD - The Worm
(Art Rock, Progressive Rock)
Possibly one of the most understated musical heel turns in the past few years, the changes in style and form between the first and second albums from London punk outfit HMLTD are subtle yet significant, especially given that many instant fans drawn in by the immediacy of 2020's West of Eden may find much less to like this time around. The explosive, imperfect mishmash of subgenres that was their debut has given way to, of all things, an honest-to-god rock opera, replete with dramatic instrumentation, larger-than-life vocals, and an artsy, overstated concept as befits the grand dramatic tradition. The titular Worm, serving firstly as a representation of lead singer Henry Spychalski's struggles with depression, expands upon closer listening to become an embodiment of capitalism, of bigotry, of any number of modern societal ills that, while certainly not examined with immense precision or depth, each add layers to The Worm that not even HMLTD may have fully intended. Regardless of how deliberate its execution, the medieval quest to slay those evils the band embarks upon alongside the listener is still a glamourous art rock odyssey that, while not always the most original of creations (the Pink Floyd and Radiohead influence can get a bit much at times), contains some of the most compelling musical ideas HMLTD has ever been able to realize. Punk fans would definitely be the last audience to passively accept a band's overnight transition to making opulent rock operas, but The Worm makes as good an argument for its own merits as an album ever could; hopefully, that HMLTD's music is still so fiery and unrepentant will go a long way in smoothing such a drastic change over for many of its potential fans.
#15: Sprain - The Lamb as Effigy
(Experimental Rock, Noise Rock)
At over double the length of their debut, Sprain's sophomore album would be a demanding listen even if it didn't happen to sound like the aural personification of contempt. The band's work has been exponentially increasing its scale (and its aberrance) in just the few years that they've been active, yet even the singles for The Lamb as Effigy, already more raucous and oppressive than anything on 2020's As Lost Through Collision, could not prepare us for what was about to occur. Across an immense ninety minutes of some of the most manically conceived experimental music this side of Swans, Sprain personify with the abrasiveness of their sound a scathing attack on the failings of humanity's nature and the society we've built, though singer Alexander Kent's vitriol is at its harshest (and most potent) when aimed inwards: at his own sins, at his own anxieties, at his own art. The totalism of the band's stark, relentless approach to rock music, with songs that often don't wait more than a few seconds before overwhelming the listener with screeching feedback and twisted liturgical ambience, is an awe to behold, culminating in each twenty-plus minute opus capping off both sides of the album which serve to confront its themes almost too directly as the riffs and vocals beneath push themselves into another plane of intensity. Unavoidably, the nature of a record this hostile necessitates that some will only hear a grating, self-obsessed heap of noise where others hear a masterpiece, and the former group can only be argued against to a point; the deliverance that is to be found on The Lamb as Effigy will not sound appealing to everyone, yet while even established fans may find this a challenging listen, the promise of a little pain should not be a dealbreaker for what is inarguably the year's most colossal work of experimental zeal.
#14: Spook - No Country II: Hell on Wheels (The Ballad of Isom Dart!)
(Abstract Hip Hop, Boom Bap)
Among an ever-growing number of faceless artists using the Internet as a vehicle for anonymous notoriety, there are none who inspire the same degree of intrigue as the esoteric rapper Spook, to the point where many still believe him to be nothing more than an alter ego of famed underground producer Sadhugold (he all but certainly isn't, but can we really be sure?). In fairness to the skeptics, the two have been aiding and abetting each other for years now; Sadhu has been heavily involved in all of Spook's projects up to and including No Country II, this time stepping back (mostly) from the boards to help fold tracks from illustrious names as varied as Nicholas Craven, Quelle Chris, Preservation, Conductor Williams, and more around a lo-fi aesthetic of nostalgic samples and dusty orchestral loops. Under the titular nod to notorious Black cattle rustler Isom Dart, Spook's reclamation of American racial caricatures (a mainstay baked into his art since day one) takes on a decidedly Western flair, ramped up alongside the Morricone-esque instrumentals into a full-on musical suite of cowboys, robberies, and shootouts that revels in its imagery while simultaneously taking it (and by extension, American history as a whole) to task. The producer-rapper pair of outlaws continue to amass infamy in the world of underground hip hop largely due to Spook's singular approach to rapping (and his ambiguous identity - the public loves a mystery), and No Country II represents the sharpest application of his style to date. Whatever institution the duo decides to take on next, they'll continue to do it on their terms and no one else's; we’re all just along for the ride.
#13: Olivia Rodrigo - GUTS
(Pop Rock)
After how surprisingly enjoyable SOUR was at its many high points, that the undisguised mimicry (of Taylor Swift, of Lorde, of Paramore, this list could go on) on Olivia Rodrigo's debut album has faded to subtler, more forgivable shades of musical influence on GUTS is worth commending on its own. But having now stepped fully into her role as pop's latest wunderkind, Rodrigo's latest record is both less derivative and more self-confident - and justifiably so, given the blatant improvements on every front imaginable. The pop music alchemy of crafting the catchiest of mega-hits comes more naturally to some than to others, and while the singles on GUTS are just as well-structured and replayable as their predecessors (if not more so), it's her less immediate ballads that represents the clearest step up in both talent and taste (the fact that there's noticeably fewer of them this time doesn't hurt either). Even without the allure of celebrity gossip that dominated the narrative of her debut (for better or worse), the Olivia Rodrigo of GUTS is a much more interesting persona to get invested in, one who is beginning to learn in real time the art of writing relatable, fictional-ish tales of love, lust, and anxiety in a voice that is definitively hers. Look closely at the lyrics and the sound of GUTS and you will still find thriving traces of Olivia's most revered progenitors, but one day soon her style will no doubt emerge fully-formed and ready to be judged on its own merits and no one else's; if this is what we get to tide ourselves over with in the meantime, it's hard to find any reason to complain.
#12: Armand Hammer - We Buy Diabetic Test Strips
(Experimental Hip Hop, Abstract Hip Hop)
It's this record's most well-paced moments, where everyone involved is firing on all cylinders and pooling their genius into some of the best alternative hip hop in recent memory, that will define We Buy Diabetic Test Strips for many of its listeners, though they may find disagreement in where exactly those highlights are located – a consequence of the album’s production being more inaccessible and disjointed than ever, leaving it unable to satisfyingly coalesce to the extent that a Shrines or a Haram can. In spite of the eccentric beat choices, though, this record seemed intentionally positioned to be the duo’s next great leap forward in popularity after the renown brought in by Haram (a beefier-than-usual rollout, multiple prerelease singles, being put out by Fat Possum Records instead of woods’ homegrown label Backwoodz Studioz), and while the copious acclaim it has received is not undeserved in the slightest, one has to wonder whether it is simply the result of more and more people catching on to the fact that billy woods and ELUCID are two of the best to ever do it. It’s fitting in a way that a decade after the release of their first full-length album Race Music, Armand Hammer have once again let themselves be photographed for an album cover, eschewing a faceless lineage of bloodied pigs’ heads and in media res tiger captures to pose casually yet decisively amidst the everyday urban decay that has fueled so much of their music. Ten years later, woods and ELUCID are a little wiser, perhaps a little more cynical, and have transformed Armand Hammer from a project few took seriously into one of the most universally acclaimed groups in rap today. With that cinematic a past, and with this celebrated a present, it’s impossible to not see We Buy Diabetic Test Strips as, at the very least, another worthy inductee into an unparalleled discography.
#11: underscores - Wallsocket
(Indie Rock, Hyperpop)
Across a series of increasingly well-received projects in the past few years, April Harper Grey (a.k.a. underscores) has been visibly developing in real time a burgeoning talent that nevertheless was but ill preparation for what her second full-length album would become. A sprawling, conceptual story centered around a fictional yet fully realized Michigan city, Wallsocket is an exceptional work even on paper: a three-pronged tale of growing up amidst the hypocrisy of Middle America's perverse takes on capitalism, religion, and identity, clearly based on Grey's own experiences in ways both hesitant and unabashed. Yet what entices the audience deep enough to want to pore over those lyrics is the album's sound, one of glitchy, earnest electronica and skillfully sketched indie rock as revealing of underscores' temperament as the lyrics themselves. Though at times the home-grown maximalism can clash with the rest of the record's atmosphere, at its best moments Wallsocket is exactly as jubilant and endearing as all the hyperpop truthers would have you believe, and makes it very easy to see why so many see the work of underscores and her closest peers as the future of indie music. The lo-fi, homegrown sheen covering the whole experience will no doubt be the greatest barrier of entry for many would-be converts, as it always will be for such a scene, but Wallsocket is the strongest proof in years that there is nonetheless plenty of gold buried beneath those Soundcloud hills, and this deep into the Internet age, there is no good reason to not go looking for it.
#10: Aesop Rock - Integrated Tech Solutions
(Abstract Hip Hop)
The title, cover, and introduction to Aesop Rock's latest double-disc opus stress a concept focused on technology and its impact (both positive and negative) on modern society, which makes it somewhat puzzling that the beating heart of Integrated Tech Solutions is, ultimately, an organic one. Intentionally or otherwise, what makes this album such a high point in Aesop's catalogue (aside from his ever-intricate approach to lyricism that still remains unmatched) are the all-too-human anecdotes behind many of its standout cuts, with much of the cybernetic feel instead derived from an especially synthetic set of instrumentals that pull much of the weight in evoking the intended aesthetic. Atop what is unquestionably Aesop's best production since 2016's The Impossible Kid, the veteran rapper's charming tales of pigeons, tweakers, Mr. T, and Vincent Van Gogh hit on an especially insightful level, with other tracks sketching a broader picture of the metropolitan stage upon which these dramas are enacted - the beating pulse of a city humming at a frequency equal parts new-fangled electronics and old-school boom bap drums. Perhaps it would be a stretch to say that this was his intention for the record, but the irony of Integrated Tech Solutions is that Aesop's style, honed to an impressive degree here on what is his most grounded project in quite a while, is the exact brand of artistry that ChatGPT and its artificially intelligent brethren will never, ever be able to replicate; yet another reason to continue to celebrate Aesop Rock as one of the most consistently brilliant to ever touch a mic.
#9: Travis Scott - Utopia
(Trap, Cloud Rap)
In the wake of the newest release from one of modern music's highest-profile personalities, much grumbling has been had by critics of all mediums regarding Travis Scott's supposed lack of charisma and the various ways in which it leaves his projects lacking. From Pitchfork all the way down, discussions of UTOPIA center themselves around Travis' inability to relate any interesting perspectives or experiences, with the assumption that even after the monumental success of Rodeo and Astroworld, the public has nonetheless grown tired of a star with nothing meaningful to say. Of course, these criticisms are entirely correct, yet to wholly dismiss Travis as an artist for this reason is to ignore the preeminent reason why UTOPIA succeeds: simply put, the sound of this album is absolutely incredible. Whether one wants to attribute it to Travis' innate genius or the ability of money to buy good production, UTOPIA has just as many highs across its 75-minute runtime as any of the rapper's most celebrated projects, with an all-star cast of well-placed features scattered atop some of the most inventive trap music to ever grace the Billboard charts. While Travis' presence might not be as much of a shock to the system as it was ten years ago, no artist to emerge in the time between has been able to recreate his mix of star power and sheer creativity (save perhaps for Playboi Carti, who also shows up among the many features on here; consider that one more base covered), and only a handful of ill-conceived appeals to the mainstream keep the record from fully realizing all of its potential. After all, Travis Scott himself might not be saying much worth remembering, but he still sounds really damn good while he's saying it.
#8: Substance810, Observe Since ‘98 - The Lion’s Share
(Hardcore Hip Hop, Boom Bap)
For those with only a few toes dipped into the realm of underground hip hop, this is a collaboration between two complete unknowns with a few somewhat notable guest verses slapped on for recognition's sake; for those in the know, this is a too-apt meeting of minds that could only ever lead to greatness. Loretta Records founder Observe Since '98 has long been in search of the proper muse for his soulful, expertly chopped production, and given how effortlessly Substance810 slots into the old-school grooves of Observe's beats, it's not at all surprising that the two came back to the table for The Lion's Share 2 just a few months later. It's hard not to prefer the first installment, though; as well as the title and corresponding skits work to lend this album some much-appreciated personality, it's the flawless interplay between Observe's pitched-up sample manipulation and the dynamic, larger-than-life rapping from Substance that make this record such a breath of fresh air for its scene, to say nothing of the numerous features from equally undevalued names that are just as integral to this album's staying power. More collaborations in the future seem all but inevitable, given that both artists have more than enough creativity to spare (and the vinyl sales are proof that the demand is more than present), though the quality of the original The Lion's Share will remain a tough bar to clear; look forward to seeing it cleared eventually regardless.
#7: Sufjan Stevens - Javelin
(Indie Folk, Chamber Folk)
For an artist who has already released one of the definitive works of art centered around grief and loss in the form of 2015's Carrie & Lowell, Sufjan Stevens' return to both the graphic emotionality and the stripped-back arrangements of arguably his most acclaimed album was always going to be a tough sell for a certain portion of his fanbase; to say that Javelin had quite the standard to live up to would be a colossal understatement. But while his latest record was (nominally) incited by the tragic passing of Stevens' partner Evans Richardson in the same way that Carrie & Lowell was by the death of his mother, Javelin is just as much an album about life, about love, about living in every way alongside someone else in a all-too mundane world that Sufjan eulogizes in the most un-mundane of terms. In his writings, the smallest moments of intimacy are elevated to a religious and mythical high through a decades-honed gift for songwriting and a grandiose suite of music; the return to a more acoustic palette has been tempered by the synthetic opulence of recent singles like America and My Rajneesh, leading to tracks that are perpetually tugging on the listener's heartstrings even while building to some of the most explosive and uplifting finales in Sufjan's entire catalogue. Those fans who will forever miss Sufjan's age of electronics, while likely to still level some unflattering (and unfair) comparisons at his latest effort, honestly won't have much of a leg to stand on here; even if Javelin isn't nearly as unorthodox as some would prefer, the quality of his craft as a songwriter has (almost) never been more formidable, resulting in what may be the strongest set of compositions on any Sufjan album yet.
#6: McKinley Dixon - Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!?
(Jazz Rap, Conscious Hip Hop)
It's been a noticeably long time since hip hop had cause to lift up an album as beautiful and life-affirming as this; without casting too many aspersions on the genre as a whole, it's fair to say that Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!? stands out as an anomaly in emotional tenor, worth immortalizing even if it wasn't such an impeccably composed piece of conscious rap. Rising star McKinley Dixon has for a few years been teasing at his potential to release something this powerfully excellent, and at just under half an hour in length, all of that promise has been compacted into a tight package bursting at the seams with ingenuity, with the utter lack of any wasted space ending up as possibly its most underrated aspect. Even taken on a song-by-song basis, this Toni Morrison-inspired symphony of jazz rap is entirely something to behold, full to bursting of bright, emotive instrumentation and vibrant drumming. Dixon's verses are indebted to yet independent of the Morrison works that he cites, building on themes of grief, community, and emancipation with his own incredibly moving experiences that result in songs as affecting as they are joyous. There is always some hesitance to declare a record this brief to be a masterpiece, an inherent feeling that albums need to be of a certain length to properly explore all their ideas, and while McKinley Dixon likely could have gone on for another dozen tracks (at least) without missing a step, Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!? hardly needs a single second more to prove exactly why Dixon should be a permanent fixture on everyone's radar.
#5: Celestaphone - Paper Cut From the Obit
(Abstract Hip Hop, Funk)
Likely the most idiosyncratic hidden gem buried in the Bandcamp depths this year, the latest album from multifarious oddball Celestaphone would be remarkable for its style alone even if the music wasn't itself so consistently inventive. Paper Cut From the Obit is a curious smorgasbord of hip hop, jazz, funk and who knows what else, sounding completely alien in its resulting aura yet pulsing with a groove instantly recognizable (and instantly unforgettable) to listeners of any disposition. Celestaphone also oozes style in the more colloquial sense - the jazz-saturated blend of loops and live jams ends up somewhere on the spectrum between Frank Zappa and Sly and the Family Stone, but the producer's vocals are something altogether unprecedented, a nasally rapped rapid-fire of spoken word and quick turns of phrase that needs to be heard to be believed. The entire record stitches itself together into a constantly shifting current of beats, tunes, and poetic slams that rarely falters and never grows boring or repetitive; the small scattering of features from some scene-defining names are merely the cherry on top, one that hopefully continues to draw more attention to a under-the-radar project that more than deserves it. It can be frustrating, sometimes, to argue for the merits of a project that seems destined (intentionally or otherwise) to forever remain an underground curio, but the appeal of an album like Paper Cut From the Obit is universal enough to spread beyond the too-narrow box Celestaphone might otherwise be placed in; when you uncover a work of art this inimitable, to not share it far and wide is to do everyone else a disservice.
#4: BrokenTeeth - 추락은 천천히 (How to Sink Slowly)
(Shoegaze)
While not the most prolific name in the Korean shoegaze wave currently cresting its popularity in the West and elsewhere, BrokenTeeth has found in his second album a sound that is both fully, beautifully formed and notably distinct from that of more recognized peers such as Parannoul and Asian Glow. Especially particular shoegaze enjoyers will likely take umbrage at a perceived lack of originality on here, asserting that the ambient, hypnotic guitar lines and plaintive vocals are somehow less than absolutely stunning just because they could be listening to Slowdive instead; such criticisms, frankly, ignore that the synthesis of scenes on How to Sink Slowly has rarely (if ever) before been executed with this much ingenuity and expertise. Decidedly cleaner than the blown-out electronics of albums like Parannoul's To See the Next Part of the Dream, what results from BrokenTeeth's subtly distinguished style are a set of compositions stretched out to post-rock levels of indulgence, held together from front to back by a keen sense of structure and the serene crooning that drifts throughout it all. The songs here know exactly when to pull back to the barest wisps of noise, when to come crashing down in a climax of breakbeat percussion and droning guitar feedback, and when to hold onto a passage of such perfect cacophony for just long enough to have you wishing it'll never end. It's ironic to consider that How to Sink Slowly could be viewed as decidedly unique from its peers in one sense, or hopelessly indebted to its predecessors in another; from either perspective, though, one has to acknowledge the raw artistry on display here, and that when taken in on its own terms, to become hopelessly enamoured with BrokenTeeth's music is all too easy a fate to fall into.
#3: Blockhead - The Aux
(Abstract Hip Hop)
Ambition is too often the Achilles' heel of producer-driven rap albums, with many a promising tape eventually floundering in a morass of too-indulgent experiments and misused features that leave the resulting record weaker than the sum of its parts. It's historically been a tough balance to find even for the most proficient of beatmakers, yet despite how chaotic its cast list may appear at first glance, Blockhead has done with The Aux what few others ever could: cut out nearly all of the fluff and extravagance to leave a tracklist of nothing but absolutely stellar material. Recruiting a healthy mix of recognized allies (Aesop Rock, billy woods) and fresh up-and-comers (RXKNephew?!), the features here never falter in both quality and diversity, with Blockhead lacing longtime collaborators with some of the best beats he's been able to provide them in twenty years of underground team-ups. Even across a full hour of music and in the company of a full roster of all-stars, the producer manages to maintain his status as the most impressive presence here, carefully measuring out an exact dose of disquieting loops and vivid, pounding drums into one succinct burst of creativity after another. In an industry where MCs are accustomed to getting top (if not sole) billing and the brains behind the beats largely struggle to even get proper credit for their work, Blockhead is one of a select few whose style is self-evidently just as important to the tracks as the vocals layered on top, and now one of even fewer who can point to his name front and center on one of the most unassuming gems of a producer album in the history of hip hop.
#2: bl4ck m4rket c4rt - Today I Laid Down
(Slowcore, Indie Rock)
It can be difficult for some to separate art born of tragedy from the tragedy itself, particularly when that art ends up connecting on a deep, substantive level with many listeners and ends up celebrated (often, only too late) as a result. The cynical response, then, is to claim that Today I Laid Down is only being talked about because of what happened following its release, that the music itself (despite having already drawn many ears at that point) will forever be seen as secondary to the album's other notoriety. But to parrot that opinion ignores that the causal relationship flows both ways; for better or worse, despair and grief can be channeled into compelling works of art in the same way that any emotion can, and though it would be capital-F False to infer that misery and greatness are inherently linked, the ugly truth is that as long as human beings are suffering, they will be making art about that suffering, and an audience will emerge to find their own form of solace in it. It also ignores that Today I Laid Down is, in every facet and with every single note, a phenomenally affecting portrait of depression, apathy, and hopelessness that drowns the listener in both the immensity of its blown-out rock arrangements and the quiet certitude of the lyrics buried underneath it all. Talking about the budding 17-year-old musician Kai Wesener can feel crass, at times; one cannot shake the feeling that to praise this album, to call attention to the fact that Kai's music was already more attuned to the realities of the human condition than most artists' ever will be, ultimately means absolutely fucking nothing after he tragically took his own life a few months after its release. But if there exists any antithesis to the weariness of being that hums underneath the guitar drones of Today I Laid Down, it is to be found in connection, in empathy, in community; the need to share our pain and share in each other's pain that leads people to keep discussing this album even after Kai can no longer see it. As long as this record continues to circulate, let it be in a positive light - for its quality alone, or for any reason otherwise, Kai deserves that much at least.
#1: billy woods, Kenny Segal - Maps
(Abstract Hip Hop, Jazz Rap)
Of the numerous watershed moments in the decade-spanning career of billy woods, the rapper’s 2019 collaborative record with producer Kenny Segal still stands as the most impactful with regards to his overall popularity (such as it is). woods had been steadily adding to his renown (and that of his label, Backwoodz Studioz) for years at that point already, but Hiding Places was the first taste a whole new audience (and plausibly, a whole new generation) of listeners received of woods’ trademark style: elusive, deliberate, and frustratingly elaborate. A follow-up has been long teased and even longer desired by fans, yet both woods and Segal have been adamant that to call this a direct sequel would be reductive; indeed, the results (though familiar in part) carve out their own niche in a discography already full to the brim with ingenuity. Despite lacking the demanding convolution of his most recent projects, Maps is in many ways a singular achievement in billy woods’ expansive canon, in no small part due to Segal one-upping their last collaboration and matching woods’ lyrical vision with an unimpeachable set of instrumentals that prove just how much potential the duo have left to manifest. Few of the other artists who pop up throughout can consistently hold a candle to the synergy between woods and Segal, and by the end of the record it becomes more than self-evident why this was the pairing that needed a second full-length outing; no need to mess with a good thing, unless it’s to take it that one step further.