Best Tracks – 9.23.22

Best Tracks – 9.23.22

 

Alex G – “Cross the Sea”

God Save the Animals is another classic, an album beguiling in its simultaneous simplicity and intricacy, and a statement that reads: “When is Alex G going to finally slip up”. At this point, he’s bordering on being too big to fail, or rather too good, and this turn towards lighter and more acoustic fare after 2019’s House of Sugar and his soundtrack album from earlier this year, may seem like the predictable back-to-basics approach that’s necessitated after crafting what could be your opus. The strength of the songs says something different though, and “Cross the Sea” even with its simple beat and repetitive chorus, shows that Giannascoli is confident enough in his craftmanship to keep the structure of the tune bare. That’s not to say he doesn’t layer on some vocal effects, harmonies, and plenty of clattering instrumentation, but even with everything stripped away, the track shines in a primordial appeal.

 

Beth Orton – “Arms Around a Memory”

For someone from William Orbit’s orbit, it’s surprising it took Beth Orton this long to produce one of her own albums. What’s more surprising though is that Orton is this good at replicating the shimmering “folktronica” sound she became known for, albeit in a more reserved fashion. “Arms Around a Memory” with its slow boil, professionalism sounds distinctly like an Orton track, or at the very least a Cat Power track, but you could make that comparison at almost any point in their respective careers. Stuffed with double-tracked vocals, horns, and sputtering percussion, Orton easily exemplifies a mood, one of melancholy and precision, and cements another decade in her career.

 

Eerie Wanda – “Long Time”

This project from Marina Tadic has taken a turn away from the kitschy, twee sound of their last outing Pet Town, towards something more befitting a contribution from someone like Kramer. Eerie Wanda lives up to its name now with a sound enthused in atmospheric indistinction and “Long Time” presents a well-written and balanced pop song within that framework. Tadic’s vocals are ethereal, floating through the song with an indescribable precision, she sounds both listless and determined in her craftsmanship, a welcome addition.

 

Makaya McCraven – “The Title”

As a drummer, McCraven is undoubtedly one of the more talented out there, jazz or otherwise. As a bandleader though, McCraven has presided over some of the most enthralling albums of recent memory, whether it be the Gil Scott-Heron reimagining We’re New Again or his Blue Note remix album Deciphering the Message. Still pushing boundaries, McCraven, along with his usual cadre of collaborators, is now joined by Macie Stewart of Finom, fresh off a pretty great solo album of her own last year. Closing track “The Title”, might be the best summation of McCraven’s ability to bring together these musicians, even though it’s a simpler collaboration. Over Brandee Younger’s consistent harp-work, Marquis Hill delivers a loping, repetitive trumpet bit that constantly creeps up to the brink of annoyance, but with McCraven’s steadfast beat, instead, it becomes a hypnotic daze, just another piece of a larger ensemble.

 

Lande Hekt – “What Could I Sell”

Following a more than promising solo debut, Hekt’s second album is a substantial improvement. She is self-assured; confident to trade in her lo-fi aesthetic and ennui for a more mature statement. “What Could I Sell” is measured in its approach to a melancholy love song, whether it be the narrator’s distaste for flying or the manifestations of codependency. Even the insecurities of an early infatuation are treated with a keener and more reflective understanding of Hekt herself.

 

Tim Burgess – “Take Me with You”

This sprawling double album from the Charlatans frontman is as excessive and unnecessary as double albums can get. There is a very good single album in here and probably a good album and a half too, but given its excessive runtime, it’s hard to excuse even the most charming detours. Still, when Burgess is at his most effective, it’s hard to believe he’s over thirty years removed from his first album. “Take Me with You” is out of time, with its extra-dimensional, interplanetary drum shuffle and chiming piano, its evocative in its surreal pop style, but on the chorus, when the soft backup vocals cut through the headier elements, Burgess owns the song for its real theme, down to earth longing.