Best New Records I Heard in November 2023

Another month of enjoyable music made me happy most every day

Allah-Lahs – Zuma 85. These guys have been around for a while now and have never deviated much from their reverb-heavy psychedelic trance pop rock approach. Until this record, which rethinks the whole concept. It’s as if they woodshedded with some copies of the Velvet Underground’s couch album, a couple Brian Eno records from the 70s, and the first few Wire albums. I don’t want to mislead – there are things which remind me of these influences, but the record is entirely its own thing. The melodies are still the kinds of tunes they came up with all along, but the sound and feel of the record is late 70s experimental rock. They play short and catchy songs that are distinctly their own, but this warms the cockles of my old-time New Wave heart.

Uni Boys – Buy This Now! It’s not hard to imagine you picked this up in a cut-out bin back in 1979, one of the many power pop records that were filled with catchy, spirited rock’n’roll with ringing guitars, pepped-up tempos, and strong harmonies. But, nope, these guys are modern, carrying on the love of rock’n’roll that was instilled in many of us back in the day. Two distinct songwriters, one with a high thin voice, the other with a lower, rounder vocal tone split duties, and the production is by the guys in the Lemon Twigs. Little or no awareness of the contemporary world is allowed, though the song “Let’s Watch a Movie” is about staying in and finding something to stream as opposed to the date night event it would have been in the 70s. This album zips by fast, and the hooks take up solid niches in your head.

Monika Roscher Bigband – Witchy Activities and the Maple Death. Look up either this band or its leader/guitarist/singer/composer on the internet, and everything is written in German. I believe this is the third album by this 18-piece collective. Roscher sings in English (except for the last song), the better to lure fans of horror movies and the occult. Me, I don’t care for witches and apocalypses and that sort of thing, but the music is spine-tingling. Eighteen musicians can raise quite a racket, and with Roscher’s penchant for dark melodies, thick and complex chords, and free-wheeling ensemble passages, the thrills come often enough. Comparisons to Zappa and Zorn were made somewhere in my German-language research, and those are at least in the ballpark. But this is entirely its own musical experience.

Jamila Woods – Water Made Us. I’ve gone from 0-60 in appreciating this record across the last few weeks. My first listen left me cold; I think I thought the melodies were scant, the rhythms dull, the lyrics too prosaic. But more than likely I was just having a really bad day, because enough people were praising this to get me to try again, and all I do is love it more and more every day. The melodies are delightful, with salubrious hooks affirming her ability to look back at the good even in failed relationships. Oh, that’s the lyrics sneaking into my consciousness. Woods is writing about multiple attempts at love, and while she got past minor bugging annoyances, and forgave the fears caused from rages, and enjoyed more than a little from each, she ultimately choose her own path, her own happiness. Which is only prosaic when I tell it. Over sharply clever beats, Woods sings, raps (once), recites, and insinuates her emotional complexity into an album that never lets up from start to finish.

The Handsome Family – Hollow. I’ve avoided contending with the Sparks spouses for decades, having heard just enough of their early material to think it sounded a little too stentorian for my taste. But the song “Skunks” from this album pricked up my ears when I heard it in a playlist, and it turns out this new album is pretty dang engaging. It’s entirely probable that once again I’ve been missing out on something I would really like for a long time. Rennie Sparks, the writer of the words, has an intriguing world view that doesn’t always make literal sense – I finally googled the lyrics to “Invisible Man” and am even more perplexed than when I couldn’t understand them at all – but which keeps dropping resonant hints with every listen. Brett Sparks, the writer of the music and the guy with that low, low voice singing it, has a sneaky way with a tune that sticks to the ribs after a couple of spins. It was his idea to make “Invisible Man” sound like an old time country gospel song, which focused those lyrics about sin but not salvation. Alt-country still has some inventive practitioners.

Nick Shoulders – All Bad. This guy’s music is a ramshackle, loosey-goosey take on country styles ranging from honky tonk to Cajun. He’s a words first guy who doesn’t scrimp on the catchiness of his often received melodies. With the band chugging along behind him, pedal steel especially standing out, he’ll yodel, he’ll croon, and mostly he’ll sing with a sound that somehow reminds me of all three Flatlanders at once. But the Flatlanders never sound this relaxed, this willing to dance even when decrying the horrors of capitalism or climate change. As far as Shoulders seems concerned, you might as well enoy yourself while fighting the necessary battles for a better world. And he’s got lots of personal type songs which are just as fun. I’m always prone to like somebody who loves wordplay and puns as much as he does – in an extended breakfast metaphor about a relationship ending, he sings, “The eggs had a good run / I guess we did, too.”

Jason Hawk Harris – Thin Places. A relatively young man deals with the early death of his mother due to alcoholism with a vibrant, highly infectious album about grief. Don’t get me wrong – this isn’t a half-assed attempt to dance his way out of pain. The pain is there, front and center in most of these songs, and even if he sings about the beauty of his romantic partner, the loss he’s suffered still cuts in to at least a couple of lines of the song. The music is mostly upbeat, though, and this combination of jaunty melodies backed by incandescent pedal steel playing with lyrics facing hard truths about the finality of death is remarkably effective communication. There’s also a beautiful take on Warren Zevon’s “Keep Me in Your Heart For a While,” which finds Harris singing Zevon’s plea for his own memorial and using it to connect once again to his mother.

King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard – The Silver Cord. Australia’s finest purveyors of hypnotic trance rock put down their guitars, shove the drums in the closet, and go all synthesizers and drum machines for an epic-length exhilarating trip on the dance floor. You can buy a single LP version with edited cuts of the seven songs, or you can pick up the double LP edition which vastly increases the length of time you get to bounce all over the dang living room (or wherever you play your records). Either way, the music is classic King Gizzard tuneage played on different instruments. But, when I play the long version, I remember that one time thirty years ago when I danced while using poppers – I don’t actually recommend them as they are terrible for the brain, but they do make you feel pretty gosh darn exhilarated for a minute or two – and I felt the music all up and down the length of my 6’8” frame. Reportedly, the lyrics tell some sort of story about annihilation or something, but I’m too busy dancing to care.

Logan Ledger – Golden State. When your fledgling career is hoisted up by association with T Bone Burnett, you may not get an audience under the age of 50, but you’ll find yourself surrounded by impeccable musicians and producers. For this, his second album, the crooning singer/songwriter is produced by Shooter Jennings putting on his best Owen Bradley impersonation. That means strings here and there, tasteful backing vocals, sweetened pedal steel, and a general sense of measured control. This suits Ledger to a T. His songs, sometimes directly inspired by the likes of Buck Owens, Elvis Presley, and Roy Orbison, are most comfortable at a point just shy of emotional release. The turmoil is there, but he’s only hinting at it while seducing us all with his silky smooth vocal approach.

Robin Trower – Joyful Sky. Robin Trower never stopped making records, and as far as I know, he’s continued to tour for the fifty or so years since he left Procol Harum and struck out on his own. I, however, haven’t kept up with him in at least a decade, so I have to admit I was surprised when I found out he had a new album. Few rock guitarists have a more immediately recognizable tone and touch on the instrument. With a new vocalist on hand, one Sari Schorr, Trower has made a distinctive modern blues record. Schorr is a good singer, though maybe not outstanding. But the songs are good, her vocals command attention enough, and Trower’s rippling guitar figures and snaking solos match the context she provides. I would definitely recommend this to any blues djs whose mamas like that fast rock and roll (though I don’t think it's fast enough for Mama).

Robert Finley – Black Bayou. Finley is a 69-year-old who released his first album at age 62. Now he’s up to album number four, and like the last three, he’s hanging out with Dan Auerbach. Finley straddles the line between blues and soul, with this album leaning a little more towards the former than the latter. All the songs are credited to the whole band (which also includes guitarist Kenny Brown and Black Keys drummer Patrick Carney) so I assume Finley is responsible for the lyrics. And the lyrics help make the album special, since he has a highly personal view of blues life. My fave song is “Gospel Blues” which features this couplet about the after-life: “I’ll probably quit drinkin’ then / Because I’ll be happy sober.” The swampy spoken-word piece “Alligator Bait” is another highlight with its tale of the time Finley’s grandfather pulled a nasty trick on him.

Susan Alcorn / Patrick Holmes / Ryan Sawyer – From Union Pool. I’d say this is not your typical pedal steel guitar / clarinet / drums free improv album, but I’ve never actually heard another such recording or live performance. I’d wager very few of the people reading this have, either. Alcorn is a wizard on the pedal steel, conjuring up sounds you would not believe could come from that instrument. Holmes offers up the rich, reedy tone of classic clarinet jazz players, but plays notes and lines far from the norm, and then is able to overblow just like a wild tenor saxophonist when necessary. Sawyer is a basher, but always with purpose and intent. The three of them interact beautifully, creating tension and release on a consistent basis, and achieving 45 minutes of energetic, dynamic, and quite lovely music.

Aesop Rock – Integrated Tech Solutions. There is a loose concept here about the effects of technology on human lives. After an admittedly funny commercial message from the futuristic “Integrated Tech Solutions” business, Aesop Rock gets down to business, calling to mind the opening scene of 2001 A Space Odyssey as he raps: “2.5 million years ago, a friend of mine / Made a tool from a stone and defended his tribe / It’s technology, sorry for the technical term / It's a wheel then a fire and the rest is a blur.” He doesn’t stick strictly to this theme, but it does come back now and again in between reminiscing about his childhood meeting with Mr. T, or his close call with the limitations of help provided for the mentally ill. And all of it is over beats that move and propel the music forward. I hadn’t heard this guy (aside from a guest spot here and there) in a couple decades, but this more than fulfilled the promise I found in him so long ago.

The Struts – Pretty Vicious. The big mystery about this record – why did the Struts change the name of the Ian Hunter song they cover at the end of the album – led me to my first ever experience with an AI response to my question on a search engine. “Irene Wilde” was a classic Hunter song from the late 70s about the time he was 16 and he was rejected by a girl, which he claimed inspired him to go on to a career in music. It’s actually way more moving than that description. AI replied with the same basic recap I just gave, and then said, “It is not clear why the Struts chose to use this song title for their track” “Somebody Someday.” Oh well, it’s a great version of a great song, and it follows ten original rock songs that sound like they could have been played by bands on bills with Mott the Hoople back in the day. Only thing modern about the record is the heavy compression which wears the ears down a bit. These guys continue to hold up the standards of their grandparents.

Lafayette Gilchrist – Undaunted. I’d completely lost touch with this great jazz pianist over the last couple decades. But, thanks to Phil Overeem, I learned he has a new album out. With a line-up including tenor sax, trombone, piano, bass, drums, and additional percussion, it’s got a unique sound before even considering the nature of Gilchrist’s compositions. He has a way of combining elegance with funk that I haven’t heard from anybody else. The five compositions here are ridiculously catchy tunes which rely on long through-composed heads that open up into improvisation sections of grace and beauty. Well, actually, four out of five. “Into the Swirl” lives up to its title, with a hard pounding super fast left hand piano figure underneath simply stated chord changes that actually only offer drum and percussion improv spaces. That’s in the middle of this solid set of modern jazz.

Nellie McKay – Hey Guys, Watch This. I gotta admit, I’m rarely as flummoxed by a record I enjoy this much. McKay comes from a Broadway background, and her songwriting harkens way back to the Great American Songbook approach of the 30s and 40s. But her lyrics are just plain weird. She doesn’t couch her despair in love lorn metaphors – she comes right out and sings about the bomb dropping on Hiroshima and its effects on war weary citizens. She lays out the worst aspects of racism, sexism, and homophobia as she cheerfully sings in the voice of someone wanting to be the first gay female black Jeffrey Dahmer. And I mean cheerfully – that song is catchy enough to end the first act of a classic musical, sending the patrons out into the lobby with an earworm they can’t shake. So, maybe there’s some Tom Lehrer in the record collection she absorbed from somebody’s estate sale. It’s all so tuneful, so well done, and so weird.

Silkroad Ensemble – Phoenix Rising. Yo Yo Ma started this ensemble back in the late nineties, and with many members from many different cultures moving in and out, the group still mashes up musical styles into an effective mold. Nowadays, Rhiannon Giddens has taken over as artistic director, and the three songs she sings out of the four cuts on this EP are among the best of her impressive resume as a vocalist. She, with ponderous backing from the musicians, fights hard in “Oh Death” to be spared over for another year. I don’t know the literal meaning of the song “Ekla Cholo Re,” though it is a patriotic protest song from the Bengali region of India (at the time), and Bangladesh. This is a beautiful and fierce rendition. After a lovely instrumental composition that incorporates all sorts of Asian and European instruments, Giddens returns with a fierce take on Peter Gabriel’s “Biko,” now treated as a historical documentation of apartheid’s horrors, but one which reminds us that violent racism is never far from the surface.

Grey DeLisle – She’s An Angel. Here’s a name I hadn’t heard in fifteen years or so. DeLisle made a series of records back in the first decade of the century that I liked at the time but hadn’t pulled out since they were new. I remember her singing with a wisp of a voice accompanied frequently by autoharp – it was country music that didn’t sound like it wanted to be on the big stage. I guess she concentrated on her stand up comedy and animation voice work for a while, but now she’s back – this is her second new album in a couple years, but I didn’t see the first one. She’s gained a feisty perspective on music that didn’t used to be there. These are country songs that sound inspired by clever 60s songwriters like Roger Miller and Buck Owens. She likes puns, word play, surprise twists, and sometimes heavy sentimentality. And she sings to the back rows now, with a powerful approach that wasn’t even hinted at in the old days. As she practices her aim, acknowledges her 100-foot tall big sister, stays in a relationship for the sake of the canine, and wonders what to do about that tattoo, DeLisle takes big swings that pay off again and again.

hemlocke springs – Going . . . Going . . . Gone. I don’t like people who brag about staying away from certain social media, so I’m being humble when I say Tik Tok is not for me. I’d never heard of this young woman who was apparently quite the viral sensation last year with one of the songs on this EP. But man, she’s got hooks galore. You’ll swear most of these songs were big hits on MTV back in the 80s, but nope, they’re all originals that stick to the ribs after only a couple spins. “Girlfriend” was the song that gave her exposure, but I don’t see any reason to think the rest of the record can’t be every bit as viral as that one.

Bombino – Sahel. I can’t remember if my first exposure to Tuareg music was through Bombino or through Tinariwen, but either way, I can’t get enough of that hypnotic urban/desert sound. Bombino is a fleet-fingered guitarist and compelling vocalist. This latest album does what all the others have done – mixes fast intense electric guitar-dominated numbers with slower, delicate acoustic guitar trances. I have no idea what he’s singing about, but I know this music demands body movement.

Susan Alcorn – Canto. Alcorn turns up again this month with a very different record from the one reviewed above. This time, she’s recording with a Chilean ensemble called Septeto del Sur. Her pedal steel guitar is front and center with the group playing guitar, drums or cuatro, the Andean stringed instrument known as a charango, several Andean flutes or pipes, bass, and violin. Alcorn’s compositions were inspired by her trip to Chile, though only the very beautiful “Mercedes Sosa” sounds like the limited exposure I’ve had to that country’s music. There’s also a Victor Jara Chilean folk song, but the rest of the album is complex stuff, using the various instruments in ways familiar and unfamiliar. (I swear, Alcorn is the only pedal steel player who can ever make me think of R2D2 once in a while.) Think lovely tune snippets, quiet but free improvisation, and modern classical forms.

The Third Mind – The Third Mind 2. I sure wasn’t expecting a second release from this supergroup (in my mind, anyway) consisting of vocalist Jessie Sykes, guitarist Dave Alvin, guitarist David Immerglück, bassist Victor Krummenacher, and drummer Michael Jerome. (Respectively, you should know them from Jessie Sykes and the Sweet Hereafter, the Blasters & his many solo records, Camper Van Beethoven and many other bands, and about a zillion credits and a long association with Richard Thompson.) This time, just as before, they went into the studio, figured out what key to play old classic rock songs in (we’ve got the Electric Flag, Gene Clark, Butterfield Blues Band, the Jaynetts, and Fred Neil represented, along with one original song), and just started playing together until something magical happened. The rhythm section knows how to play with dynamics to hold together a deep groove; the two guitarists are incandescent, feeding off each other’s solos without ever coming near to overplaying. I’m less enamored of Sykes as a singer, but she does convey the melody and give us something to focus on besides the incredible musicianship behind her.

Marnie Stern – The Comeback Kid. She’s releasing her first album in ten years, but it’s also my first exposure to her at all. So I can’t tell you if this indie rocker is better or worse than she used to be, but I can tell you that this is one solid half hour. She’s a virtuoso guitar player and she uses every trick she knows, including some crazy time signatures, to put together remarkably infectious rock songs that remind me of no one else. She’s also got a cool singing voice, with a lot of time spent in the upper register sometimes doubling up the guitar part, sometimes working a new melodic counterpoint.

Grupo Frontera – El Comienzo. These young Mexican-Americans from Texas are reinvigorating a variety of Mexican styles, at least as far as my limited exposure to their roots lets me know. Well, that, and the fact that they got Bad Bunny to guest star on a single that took them to number 5 on the Billboard pop chart. The band plays all the traditional instruments – bajo quinto, accordion, bass, congas, and drums – and draws from cumbias and other forms popular along the border. To my ears, they have a distinctive melodic sensibility that makes them stand out – it’s probably built from a mixture of traditional approaches and newer pop-oriented songs. Besides Bad Bunny, the album includes collaborations with six other Mexican performers, which gives me some more names to check out when I find time.

Guillermo Klein Quinteto – Telmo’s Tune. This is a sneaky good little jazz record. Klein is an Argentinian pianist and composer who apparently mostly works with large scale band projects. But this time, with a small combo that includes Chris Cheek on tenor and soprano saxes, Leo Genovese on Fender Rhodes and other keyboards, Matt Pavolka on bass, and Allan Mednard on drums, he delivers exquisite little tunes that sneak into your psyche. Having Genovese around to double up with Cheek on the lead lines makes for a different sound I’m not sure I’ve encountered before with a piano underneath. Everybody involved is a superb musician, but there is no sense of showing off. Now, I don’t mind showing off in jazz, but it’s also nice once in a while to encounter a record where every note is perfectly placed in relation to every other sound.

Various Artists – Save KDHX: The Album. I’m not actually reviewing this, but reprinting a blurb I contributed to the physical CD package – that CD is virtually sold out, so many people won’t even get to read it. (The album is still streaming and available for download at Bandcamp.) Thank you for purchasing this CD. It's an album that nobody wanted to exist. Thirteen disc jockeys were fired from KDHX between February and September, the last ten via CC'd emails all at the same time. Twenty more disc jockeys and volunteers either resigned or declared themselves on strike in the week after that. The management and Board of Directors of KDHX has acted in egregious manners throughout the year, treating volunteers who have worked hard for between three and 37 years, and contributed thousands of dollars to the station, as if they didn't matter at all. We, the League of Volunteer Enthusiasts of KDHX (the L.O.V.E. of KDHX consists of all the dismissed and striking volunteers, and then some) appreciate the enormous support we've received from the musical community. This CD is unfortunately necessary, but it's a damn fun thing to listen to nonetheless. Thanks to all the musicians and everybody involved with putting it out.