Best New Records I Heard in June 2024

Good music just keeps pouring into my ears

Nicole Glover – Plays. I’ve heard her in the group ARTEMIS, but she gets a lot more room to stretch out in this mostly trio format. Tenor saxophone, bass, drums (and on four out of eight tracks, vibraphones) makes for an exciting jazz sound. Glover is forceful and insistent on tenor, and bassist Tyrone Allen more than holds his own as both a supporting player and soloist. Drummer Kayvon Gordon and vibes player Steve Nelson are quite at home, too. I only recognize one tune here, the classic ballad “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face,” which is played with more gusto than you’d expect. Most of the rest of the tracks are hard swingers, albeit with wide open spaces in the sound. She’s getting a lot of acclaim – I expect her to stick around for a while.

Pokey LaFarge – Rhumba Country. The first time I noticed Pokey LaFarge he was dressed to the nines (as he always seems to be) and dancing fancy steps with an equally debonair young lady to the music of Beausoleil. I soon enough learned this guy was making music here in St. Louis, and it was damn good stuff, mostly a take on the hokum and pop blues of the early 30s. Over the years, he’s shifted his styles around, but he’s always been at heart a guy who loves to make people dance. This time around, many – though not all – of the songs have the Latin tinge that makes for a good rhumba. He’s as catchy as ever, and there’s not a weak song among ten included here. He’s throwing in hints of the Christianity he’s reportedly moved towards of late. My fave in this regard is “Home Home Home,” which seems to be about seeing loved ones in Heaven though it could, I suppose, be about revisiting them on Terra Firma after a long absence. Either way, I adore the fact that the first line is “Ice cream, candy” as if these common place items are the equal of eternal life. I kind of agree.

Villagers – That Golden Time. Conor O’Brien has worked in a variety of approaches, but Villagers records always hit me in the exact same way. These sweetly formed, consistently surprising, quietly hook-filled songs feel like a walk just after the rain has cooled things off. This new album is, as most previous ones were, intimate, with O’Brien’s vibrato echoing directly into the ears. I’m a melodic listener more than a lyrical one under the best of circumstances, but the bare-bones treatments on this record push the words past my brain more than usual. I try to think about what he’s saying, but I’m always distracted by an unexpected chord change, a vocal climb up the ladder, a gentle push from strings or a light touch on the piano. I know this means I’m probably missing out on loving this record even more than I already do, but tell that to my brain while I’m under this lovely hypnotic spell.

Kenny Barron – Beyond This Place. At 80 years old, Kenny Barron has been around the jazz world for a long time. This new album with a quintet – Barron on piano, Kiyoshi Kitagawa on bass, Johnathan Blake on drums, Steve Nelson on vibraphone, and the up and coming titan Immanuel Wilkins on alto sax – revisits a lot of tunes he’s recorded before, but I wouldn’t call it a nostalgia piece. This group is fierce and tight, and has a blast in a variety of configurations and styles. You want standards? How about a lovely “The Nearness of You” which opens the record, or a spritely “Softly As In a Morning Sunrise” played by Barron and Blake at top speed? You want a Monk tune? Wilkins and Barron are perfectly in synch on their duet of “We See.” You want Barron originals you may or may not have heard before? My fave is “Scratch” which features all five players in an intricately syncopated clash of ideas, but the title track is delicately gorgeous, too. In fact, this record has grown on me each time I’ve heard it, which is all you can ask from a modern jazz record by a guy who started out when most of the music’s familiar icons were still working in the clubs.

Chick Corea & Bela Fleck – Remembrance. Speaking of Monk tunes, I’m enraptured with the piano / banjo duet performance of “Bemsha Swing” on this excellent double LP which includes live cuts from their 2019 tour together and studio collaborations recorded in separate cities during the pandemic. Corea passed away in 2021, and this was probably the last project he worked on before he died. He and Fleck had recorded together before – they had a remarkable affinity for each other’s work, which makes sense because both have displayed voracious interests in different kinds of music throughout their careers. There are four impromptu duets here, which apparently started as improvisations by Corea and then Fleck wrote out his own parts to go with them. There are also two Domenico Scarlatti sonatas which make for an enjoyable diversion near the end of the album. The rest are tunes written by Fleck or Corea, including a few the latter had not recorded before. The best endorsement I can give is to say that an hour of two instruments without drums goes by way too fast here.

Rick Estrin & the Nightcats – The Hits Keep Coming. Rick Estrin has been a Nightcat for decades, but he’s only been the bandleader and not just the front man since 2008. He and former guitarist Charlie Baty established Little Charlie and the Nightcats in 1973, and I first encountered them when they signed to Alligator Records in the late 80s. To me, even after Charlie retired, this is one of the most quintessential Alligator bands. This new record showcases their wit, their flair, their penchant for solid and varied blues grooves, just as they’ve been doing for all these years. Estrin is a talented vocalist who knows how to make the words wink in all the right places, and he’s a heck of a harmonica player, too. I’m not sure if the rest of the band is providing the harmonies, but if so, they have developed a rich gospel-drenched style that adds a nice contrast. I was bowled over when I suddenly realized they were doing a Leonard Cohen song, “Everybody Knows.” It fits perfectly in the Nightcat style.

Richard Thompson – Ship to Shore. If you want to find an unbiased review of any Richard Thompson record, look elsewhere, as I’ve long considered him to be the greatest guitar player in the world and a fantastic songwriter to boot. That doesn’t mean I can’t be critical – this is another in a long line of very solid albums he’s released since the last good to great one, Rumor and Sigh, which came out back in 1991. It may be the most solid in years, but that could be recency bias speaking. On the other hand, he does have Dave Mattacks on drums, which is always a very good sign, and heck, David Mansfield turns up on fiddle now and then. Zara Phillips on harmony vocals is probably the best sidekick he’s had since Clive Gregson and Christine Collister filled that role together in the 80s. Thompson’s guitar playing is impeccable here, without ever rolling into the extended heights he’s been known to take his solos. The big question is whether or not any of these songs are likely to compete with his many classics in the live shows. I think a couple of them could be keepers, particularly “The Fear Never Leaves You,” a harrowing look into the mind of a soldier dealing with PTSD, and possibly “Singapore Sadie,” which is just that kind of RT catchy single he’s done now and again. If you’re a fan, you know you need this. If you haven’t discovered him yet, start with Shoot Out the Lights and work your way through all the classics first.

Willie Nelson – The Border. Who is this gruff voiced singer that greets us with the first words of a song we heard Rodney Crowell do a few years back? Fact: Willie Nelson is 91, and he doesn’t sound like the Willie Nelson of 35 (or heck, even 85) any more. There are hints of that old familiar vocal sound, but mostly, he’s lower and rougher than we’re used to hearing. But, dangit, he’s still Willie Nelson, and he still has impeccable phrasing and an absolute conviction in his voice that makes him one of our greatest singers. Billed as his 75^thalbum – I’m not going to try to count them to see if that number is accurate – The Border gives us four new Nelson co-writes and six other extremely well chosen songs. Whether singing in the character of a border patrol agent living in terror of doing his job or pointing out that he’s a songwriter and that’s what he does, Willie Nelson puts us into the story and emotions of the songs at all times. It only took me two listens to forget that he doesn’t quite sound like he used to. That’s because he still feels like he always has.

Kanak – On the Outside. I’d already fallen in love with this EP when I decided to look up some info on the band only to discover that one of the guitar players is Johnny Rao who I remember from classic David Johansen and Syl Sylvain records, and the other is Peter Wood of the band Dramarama. So they have a pedigree, which explains why their best songs sound like long-lost seven inch singles from the late 70s. Slashing guitars, catchy singable melodies with cool harmonies, energetic drumming – it’s all here just the way I loved it back when I turned 21. Tom Kanach is the singer and songwriter who put this band together. My vote for an instant classic is “Without a Clue” a kiss-off song that makes a snarling hook out of “So fuck you” and which holds up even in the clean version they add for radio play. If they’d put “Too Late” on the b-side and dropped a single into a time machine, this would be exhibit A for a potential new volume of Nuggets. Many bands have tried to do this sort of thing; very few have come close to doing it this well.

Crowded House – Gravity Stairs. This new version of the beloved band takes some getting used to. Neil Finn is still in charge, and Nick Seymour continues to provide solid foundation on bass, but Mitchell Froom on keyboards, and especially Neil’s sons Liam (guitar, vocals) and Elroy (drums, guitar, keyboards, vocals) are playing large roles in shaping the band’s sound. The emphasis used to be on long, elegant, gorgeously conceived melodies with plenty of space around them. Now, the songs themselves are usually simpler in construction (though still with inventive use of chords) and the vocals and keyboards come close to cluttering things up. I have played it enough to accept the difference, though, and this is a good but not great effort from a bunch of talented musicians. My fave song – “Some Greater Plan (for Claire)” – turns out to be a co-write between Neil and his older brother Tim, which explains why it harkens back to the olden days.

Terre Roche – Inner Adult. I’ve loved all things Roches for decades, so of course I was very excited to find a new solo album from middle sister Terre, the guitar player and soprano of the sister group. This is only her third album on her own, and the first in nine years. This time, it’s just her playing acoustic guitar and singing. Like her sisters Suzy and the late Maggie, Terre Roche has an idiosyncratic way of looking at the world and of putting those looks into melodies. This never translated into commercial success, but the Roches did connect with a pretty solid cult audience. I really like this new record – her songwriting is as strong as ever, whether reverting to childhood and asking “Can We Keep ‘Em Dad” only to lead to a major lesson about the value of love or asking God to remind her she’s not perfect in “A New Serenity Prayer.” The tunes are inventive melodically and harmonically and even now and then formally. It’s great to hear her again.

Kim Richey – Every New Beginning. There’s nothing quirky about what Kim Richey does. She provides straight forward singer/songwriter with a country heart and a love of simple melody about as well as it can be done. This new album is, I think, her tenth in a career that dates back thirty years or so. She used to get her songs recorded in Nashville by big names, but her brand of gentle pop with deep feeling doesn’t get played on the radio any more. That’s alright, though, since I actually prefer hearing her sing her own stuff. I love “Chapel Avenue,” an evocative montage of childhood memories which rings true to me, only two years younger than Richey. I really love “Joy Rider,” a zinger of a catchy number about a guy who loves to ride a motorcycle. (It’s possible I simply prefer songs with the word “wheelie” in them, as that is the common denominator between these two faves of mine.) A sparse but sympathetic production helps Richey sell these lovely songs.

The Mavericks – Moon and Stars. I convinced myself several years back that these guys are the best live band working nowadays, and this is the kind of record that serves to prove it. It’s a studio album, of course, but there’s nothing on here they can’t reproduce live, only with a greater vivacity which makes it impossible to avoid dancing when you see them in person. The four members of the band – Raul Malo on vocals and apparently bass on record, Eddie Perez on guitars, Jerry Dale McFadden on keyboards, and Paul Deakin on drums – are all outsize personalities who blend together for the sake of each song without anybody stealing the spotlight. Of course, Malo is a superhuman vocalist, but he never shows off. The band achieves a smooth, intoxicating groove whether playing fast or slow. The new album gives us eleven new opportunities to prepare dance steps for a live show, with some guest vocals added from Nicole Atkins, Sierra Ferrell, and Maggie Rose.

Alan Braufman – Infinite Love, Infinite Tears. Two score and nine years ago, Alan Braufman released his debut record to enormous praise in the free jazz world. His second album came out in 2020. This is his third. (Well, he released two under the name Alan Michael not mentioned in his bio, and two archival live albums in 2019 and 2022 respectively.) While this music takes enough liberties with harmony to get put into the free jazz camp, for the most part it’s nothing scary to listeners who don’t like that sort of thing. That’s because Braufman is a lover of catchy melodies which offer plenty of room for expression by the soloists. Oh, yeah, the soloists – Braufman on alto sax, James Brandon Lewis on tenor, and Patricia Brennan on vibraphone make for a formidable front line, and bassist Ken Filiano can solo as well. Drummer Chad Taylor and percussionist Michael Wimberly round out the sextet. “Chasing a Melody” might be the most sing alongable jazz tune in years, and Brennan in particular shines on her solo here. But the album is full of memorable tunes, intricate ensemble playing, and undeniable solos.

Noel McKay – You Only Live Always. It’s never been a prerequisite for a Texas singer/songwriter to have a smooth singing voice, but It’s awfully nice to find somebody who can do a little more than merely carry the tune. But with melodies, arrangements, and especially lyrics like these, I think I’d love this record even if he could merely croak. McKay, like John Prine, Todd Snider, Guy Clark, and others, has a personal view of the world which can’t help but come out as oddball poetry. Right from the start, you realize his song “53” is not just a greeting card turn of phrase about an age nobody thinks about – “You’re probably not good looking any more / But you look better than you will at 54” -but is in fact making leaps into fantastic unimaginable age-related thoughts. The second song is the only country ballad I know about being a member of the “Interstellar Rescue Service.” But it’s not all jokes – “A World Without Humans” is a sobering contemplation of what we’re doing to ourselves, and “The Ballad of Tombstone Poker” should take its place among all-time great war songs. Inexplicably, there’s a straight forward take on Billy Joel’s execrable yet melodically lush “Always a Woman” which takes me aback every time I hear it, but otherwise this is an extraordinary album.

Andrew Bird – Sunday Morning Put-On. I’m old enough to remember Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire, which made jazz adjacent records back in the 90s. I mean, those songs were originals which kinda sounded like thirties standards, but weirder. Well, Bird has finally gotten around to tackling the Great American Songbook here, and he does it without any reverence but with a whole lot of love. These songs, as familiar as they are, all sound completely fresh with Bird’s elastic vocals and idiosyncratic fiddling taking prominent roles – I think he only whistles on one song. Writers include Rodgers & Hart, Juan Tizol (from Duke Ellington’s songbook), Jule Styne & Sammy Cahn, Cole Porter, Richard Whiting, John Lewis, Johnny Green & Edward Heyman, Frank Loewe & Alan Jay Lerner, and a nine-minute instrumental by Bird. It’s so nice to hear these songs come alive again.

Empirical – Wonder is the Beginning. The nature of the jazz life makes it hard to keep bands together for very long, but this English quartet has existed since 2007. Well, the current line-up only dates back to 2011, but thirteen years is an impressive run. This has allowed alto saxophonist Nathaniel Facey, drummer Shaney Forbes, bassist Tom Farmer, and vibraphonist Lewis Wright to develop intricate connections in their playing. They know what each other needs to sound great. For this record, they are joined by pianist Jason Rebello and tenor saxophonist Alex Hitchcock, who fit right in. I find the first cut, “The Naitoku” to be breathtaking, as each player seems to work in a slightly different rhythm accent keeping the whole sound slightly off kilter but still lovely. The rest of the record reveals new secrets each time I hear it.

Omar Souleyman – Erbil. I don’t think I’ve checked in with this Syrian musician in about ten years. The sound has toughened up, incorporating more and more electronics and heavier and heavier thumping beats. The core of the music remains the Arabic melodies that have always been the basis of his work. What this gives us as listeners in the West is a highly danceable, infectious and entrancing record that’s not like what we hear very often. I love the way he’s got synthesizers aping the sounds of various wind and string instruments. To me, it evokes the faint impressions I’ve had of music from his part of the world but makes it just a little off kilter. The forms on this album all require super-fast rhythms, yet his vocals remain unaffected by the need for speed. I imagine there are conservatives in Syria who don’t like what he’s doing to their traditions, while there are younger people finding new ways to enjoy old forms.

Wadada Leo Smith & Amina Claudine Myers – Central Park’s Mosaics of Reservoir, Lake, Paths, & Gardens. These two titans of avant-garde jazz in Chicago have been around a long, long time. This lovely duet album purports to conjure up images of various locations in Central Park, but as I have never been there, I can’t connect it to any visuals. But as sheer sound, well this one moves me. Myers plays somber piano chords and dancing filigrees; Smith blows trumpet with a forceful purity that can take your breath away when he comes in after just hearing piano. On one short track, Myers switches to organ; on two tracks, Smith puts a mute on the trumpet; on another, it’s just Myers at the piano. All of it is gorgeous, stately and somehow intimate at the same time. The last two tracks pay tribute to Albert Ayler and John Lennon respectively, but that’s just in the titles. The music is of a piece with the rest of the peaceful record.

Tony Trischka – Earl Jam. Somehow, Tony Trischka was given some recordings of the late Earl Scruggs jamming with the equally late John Hartford on a bunch of songs neither had ever released. Trischka being who he is, he transcribed all of Scrugg’s banjo parts and learned to play them exactly the way his hero had done but we’d never heard. Then, he got out his Rolodex and called up everybody in the bluegrass world – Billy Strings, Sam Bush, Molly Tuttle, Sierra Ferrell, Del McCoury, Bela Fleck, and more. Everybody had a grand old time in the studio playing and singing the likes of “Little Liza Jane,” “San Antonio Rose,” “Amazing Grace,” “Lady Madonna,” and “Casey Jones. I’ve had an equally good time listening to this album. It’s bluegrass royalty all at the top of their game paying tribute to their favorite banjo player by making wonderful music out of his ideas