Best New Records I Heard in 2024

Catching up on some good things from last year and discovering some nice brand new albums, too!

Raze Regal & White Denim – Raze Regal & White Denim Inc. I’ve pretty much enjoyed all the White Denim albums I’ve heard. Here they collaborate with Raze Regal, a guy I’ve never heard before formerly of Once and Future Band, a group not even famous enough to have its own Wikipedia page. The partnership brings a richer, more complex approach to the songwriting – at times, this record reminds me of Steely Dan or 10CC, albeit with more hyperactive and mostly syncopated drumming. This is music simultaneously catchy and tautly constructed. It’s maybe not as immediately soulful or way-out as White Denim has been before, but it’s got its own way of getting under the skin.

John Scofield – Uncle John’s Band. This takes up two LPs and 90 minutes of time, giving Scofield ample space to show off his wide-ranging interests. The jazz guitarist has been one of the leading figures on the instrument for nearly 50 years now – I first encountered him when he was playing in Miles Davis’ band back in 1983. This is a trio record, featuring bassist Vicente Archer and drummer Bill Stewart. Of the 90 minutes here, Scofield himself is playing on probably 85 of them if not more. Material comes from Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and the Grateful Dead to nab rock fans; standards by Matty Malneck and Frank Signorelli (“Stairway to the Stars,” a beautiful tune) as well as Leonard Bernstein; jazz faves originally done by Miles Davis and Dizzy Gillespie, and a bunch of originals, one of which is heavily influenced by “Ghost Riders in the Sky” and another of which quotes from “Last Train to Clarksville.” Scofield handles every style here with aplomb, and his solos match the mood of each song, from wide open spaces to quiet elegance to sharply constructed explorations.

Fairport Convention – Full House For Sale. Fairport Convention fans are aware of the annual Cropredy Festival held almost every year since 1976. The ever-shifting line-up of that folk-rock band always plays, and they often bring in former members to shake things up. Plans for 2020 were delayed until 2022 (hence the “almost” I mentioned above) because of the pandemic. So the 50^th anniversary of the classic Full House album was celebrated two years late. I’m not sure why Dave Swarbrick couldn’t make it, but mainstays Simon Nicol and Dave Pegg did rope in Richard Thompson and Dave Mattacks from the band in 1970. Chris Leslie, the Fairport fiddler since 1997, filled in admirably for Swarbrick. Every song from the original album was played in order. While the band in 1970 was capable of walking on musical water, as evidenced by the ridiculously out of print House Full live album, they are possibly even better musicians now than they were then. There’s no question that Thompson’s guitar rumbles even deeper, and his vocals are much richer.. These songs, most especially “Walk Awhile” and the majestic “Sloth” are always welcome in any rendition, and these performances are fantastic.

Terry Klein – Leave the Light On. I’m always slow to catch on to singer/songwriters, but even though this is his fourth album, I’m not sure I’m far behind too many people yet. He’s one of the sharpest in the long lineage of Texas troubadours to come along in a while. First of all, just from a musical standpoint, he’s got a nicely varied approach to his songs, with gentle balladry alternating with stomping rockers and some laid-back country dance numbers. But pay attention to the words. The sweetest sounding ballad on the album is told in the first person by a hired hit-man who tells of the ways he gets away with murder. An urgently rocking song picks up the anxiety of an antsy person $1.60 short of the money needed to buy a pack of cigarettes. Klein’s songs are invested in the lives of people often ignored by songwriters, though he does have plenty of looks at the truly lovelorn, too.

Bethany Cosentino – Natural Disaster. I had heard the whole album before I discovered she’s the lead singer for Best Coast, a band that never penetrated my defenses much. This record, however, is big and bright and bold guitar-based pop music. Cosentino has a gift for melody and hooks, and her lyrics seem smart and clever. (I admit, however, that I haven’t given them the attention they seem to deserve.) She has a habit of spreading multiple notes over single syllables that is built into the songs as opposed to the melisma of r&b singers. I’m not complaining, but it is something that calls attention to itself more than a few times. Still, I like her warm voice and love her devotion to pop/rock verities.

Kris Davis – Diatom Ribbons (Live at the Village Vanguard). I investigated this record because it has the great Terri Lyne Carrington on drums, and the ever welcome Julian Lage on guitar. I hadn’t heard Davis on piano before, let alone prepared piano and something called the arturia microfreak synthesizer. Bassist Trevor Dunn was another unknown factor to me, and I was excited to see there was a turntables and electronics player in the band, one Val Jeanty. The music here is fantastic. There are pieces by Ronald Shannon Jackson, Geri Allen, and Wayne Shorter (“Dolores” is so nice they play it twice on the album in two very distinctive takes). This band is tight and can be explosive or quiet as needed. You can also hear the voice of Sun Ra in a fascinating piece called “VW” and the voices of Olivier Messiaen, Paul Bley, and Karlheinz Stockhausen turn up in shorter doses on other pieces. For almost two hours representing presumably two sets of live material, this double CD makes a compelling case for Davis and company being among the most impressive jazz performers I’ve heard since I started really diving into jazz again about three years ago.

Uriel Herman – Different Eyes. An Israeli jazz pianist with an eclectic set of influences, Herman is primarily a musical romanticist.. There are three different line-ups among these nine tracks. Herman is accompanied by the evocative trumpet of Itamar Borochov on three cuts, including an exquisite take on “Nature Boy.” Four other tracks find Herman in the center of a quartet, with flute or sax and bass and drums. One of these tracks, “Polly,” which is a beautiful tune played with restraint by all four instruments, turns out to be by Nirvana – I honestly had no idea until I just looked at the credits. Finally, Herman offers two solo piano pieces, one of which is an homage to Chopin. If you’re counting up, that means six of the pieces here are written by Herman, who has a remarkable melodic sense and an intriguing harmonic approach. I’m definitely glad I got around to hearing this one.

Marius Neset – Geyser (Live at Royal Albert Hall – BBC Proms). A Norwegian saxophonist who worked up this symphonic jazz piece to be performed by his quintet – Ivo Neame on piano, Jim Hart on vibraphone, marimba, and percussion, Conor Chaplin on bass, and Anton Eager on drums – along with the London Sinfonietta Orchestra conducted by Geoffrey Paterson. It’s a sprawling, constantly shape-shifting piece divided into eight component parts. The album starts off quiet, with just some plucking strings, and ends with the explosive sounds of the entire orchestra and jazz combo. It’s hard to pull out bits and pieces to talk about; I find the entire record to be thrilling. Neset is a player/composer I don’t remember hearing before. He gives himself the task of improvising long passages within the dazzling twists and turns of the orchestral parts and the hard pushes of his jazz cohorts.

Allen Lowe – America: The Rough Cut. People I respect have been raving about this for months. Don’t ask me what took so long to get to it. I’m going to join the chorus of yeas, so maybe if you’ve been putting it off this will push you over the edge. Lowe is a saxophone player/composer who has absorbed the entire history of jazz (not to mention lots of other American musics – the man has multiple and highly engaging books!). The idea here is to imbue whatever he plays with the emotional immediacy of the oldest forms of jazz. There are cuts which nod to those forms, but an African-American moan here and a few blues there are mixed with country and folk influences, some shredding metal, and to my ears a bit of Mingus (who was no stranger to older musics himself). Most of the record is a quartet giving Lowe and guitarist/occasional banjoist Ray Suhy plenty of opportunity to blow hard straight into your soul. The tunes are catchy, too. It took me a bit to get into the two cuts where Lowe overdubs his saxophone over his own less than versatile guitar playing, but these too hit the gut once you let go of the demand for precision and allow yourself to feel. The last cut here is a live one from a few years ago with a trio of trombonists including Ray Anderson and the late Roswell Rudd which makes me want to hear more of that particular band.

Eamon Ra – Dunce Witch Snowman. Perrhaps if I lived in Seattle I would have been following along with Mr. Ra as he led the band Sterling Loons and participated in the band Truly. But I don’t so this second solo record will serve as an introduction. The guy is an oddball lyrically and an elegant gentleman melodically. Presumably, if you have the vinyl version, you’ll note that the two different versions of “Up And At ‘Em” lead off each side instead of just having a second take on waking up in the middle. Me, I’m glad to have any song that celebrates rising and shining. Ra connects different songs as well – the mysterious title villain is referenced in the mysterious “Have You Seen Emma.” No matter what he’s singing about – and the lyrics are fun to hear, don’t get me wrong – the melodies and arrangements are what make Ra special. He’s a pop rocker that doesn’t seem to emulate anybody else, but instead has a fully formed and richly developed style all his own.

Billy Porter – Black Mona Lisa. Billy Porter wears designer clothing, carries Gucci handbags, drives fancy cars, and has Grammy, Emmy, and Tony Awards on his way to an EGOT. In other words, his life doesn’t have much in common with mine. But, we share a commitment to dance floor values and pop song hookcraft, so we can meet anytime I spin this record. It’s a tour de force of modern disco, with his soulful vocals buoyed up by heavy kick drums, swirling strings, insistent horns, and all the classic tropes of the genre. Mostly he sings about being true to himself, as a gay black man, about triumphing over those who tormented him, and about the things he has that I don’t have. The song “Baby Was a Dancer” is a story song about a girl in love with dancing who had to deal with life on the streets, and as such it makes an intriguing change of pace. But it’s just as catchy as all the rest, and I’m too busy dancing to think much more about it.

 Stu Bangas & Chino XL – God’s Carpenter. I’ve been playing a lot more hip hop lately, and discovering artists who have been around a long time. So, it might not be surprising to you if I say Chino XL is the metaphoriest MC I’ve heard. He spits out so many words so fast that it might take a dozen listens to get to the bottom of everything he says, but everything I understand already is sharp and blunt at the same time. He is really proud of himself – I mean he’s comparing himself to Noah, who was a “conspiracy theorist but then it started to rain.” He tosses out threats and dismisses other people as though they are nothing, but he does it with such cleverness that you barely notice that he’s “darker than anything in Lou Reed’s discography.” And Bangas drops beats that rise to the occasion – deep, minor-key backgrounds with lots of oddball samples and accents from hype men or choral groups.

Sleater-Kinney – Little Rope. I am probably the only music writer in the country who fell in love with this band only five years ago when they released The Center Won’t Hold. As a result, I compare all other records I hear from them to that one, and this one, while not quite as sublime, contains enough of the oddball melodic structures and passionate performances that made me a fan. Carrie Brownstein and Corin Tucker seem to be morphing into each other – I’m not saying I can’t tell them apart, but I am saying I repeatedly find myself saying, “Oh wait, that’s the other one singing this song.” Their guitar parts are unorthodox yet powerful, whether they are turning up the fuzzboxes or just playing quietly. There aren’t many rock bands left whose new releases get me automatically planning to listen several times right away.

Green Day – Saviors. My musical origin story is complex. I loved any record I could find until I was 7 in 1966, though that included only a handful of actual rock’n’roll singles. Then in 1971 and 1972, I fell in love with pop radio. In 1978 punk rock changed my life (only two years after it the music was brand new). Put these things together, and it kind of makes sense why I love this new Green Day record. It’s nostalgic and sentimental, it’s melodically rich and insanely catchy, and it’s got all the energy of punk. Yeah, I know, they’ve been doing this for years, but somehow this album strikes me as being more musically diverse and therefore more capable of grabbing my personal set of ears. It also didn’t hurt that I heard the single “The American Dream Is Killing Me” several times ahead of the release, thanks to Little Steven’s Underground Garage. Just like 1971, when I couldn’t get a song out of my head so I would desire the album if I liked it enough!

Elzhi – Heavy Vibrato. One of the best sources for discovering excellent new hip hop records turns out to be jazz writer Tom Hull’s Music Week blog. That’s where I found out about this Detroit guy, who has been making records off and on for some 25 years. Aided by some darkly compelling music tracks courtesy of a DJ named Oh No, Elzhi is constantly changing rhythmic attacks with a heavy spray of words and rhymes. I like the whole short record, but three tracks in particular stand out. “Bishop” is told from the point of view of a man caught in the violent crossroads of the streets who finds himself a murderer. “Twilight Zone” is just plain weird and wild, a ghetto pilot episode. And “Last Nerve” is a potent list of the things large and small that make him angry.

Hamell on Trial – Bring the Kids. Here’s one of those critics darlings that I’ve enjoyed now and again without ever really giving the close attention he deserves. Ed Hamell is an idiosyncratic singer/songwriter with one foot in folk styles and another in punk attitude. This is apparently his 17^th album. Barebones production makes it easy to concentrate on the words – Hamell and his frequent singing companion Ruth Theodore aren’t exactly swoonworthy vocalists, but they carry the simple tunes. Short barbed consideration is given to the bad parenting skills of Tucker Carlson, the need for billionaires to open schools to fight stupidity, and the frightening number of women who have experienced rape. Longer songs tackle the hypocricy of evangelical Christians and the sheer joy of making music. Hamell offers opinions and experiences and his politics make him one of the good guys.

Jeymes Samuel – The Book of Clarence (Motion Picture Soundtrack). I don’t keep up with film – it’s an art form I love that I just don’t have the time to invest in the way I do with music, books, and television. So I don’t know anything about Jeymes Samuel, who is a producer/director/writer of several movies, including this one that came out last year and lost a lot of money. The soundtrack however, is pretty magnificent. Samuel is also a musician and singer – dude wears a lot of hats. And he knows a lot of people – guest stars here include Jorge Ben Jor, Lil’ Wayne, Buju Banton, Shabba Ranks, Doja Cat, Yemi Alade, D’Angelo, Jay-Z, Kid Cudi, and Terry Callier, along with a few I hadn’t heard of before. The songs are all contemporary r&b with rich melodies, impressive string arrangements, intoxicating beats, and a wide variety of vocal approaches. It’s probably my favorite discovery of the early year.

Mary Halvorson – Cloudward. I’m glad to see Mary Halvorson getting more and more attention – I only heard her first a couple years back right when she was starting to break through to bigger audiences. She is a fascinating guitar player with a completely personal tone and approach to the instrument. Her compositions are complex, knotty, melodically dense pieces which on this record make great use of her sextet. (The band includes Halvorson on guitar, Nick Dunston on bass, Tomas Fujiwara on drums, Jacob Garchik on trombone, Adam O’Farrill on trumpet, and Patricia Breenan on vibes – I don’t think I’ve encountered these people before but they are all excellent players.) There are jazz solos here, but mostly the instruments wrap themselves around each other, commenting on the tunes. It’s all ultra-modern and gets the toes to tapping.