Thanks for tuning into my annual “best music” list. I decided to cut it down to 25 entries this time from my usual 50, as I didn’t spend enough time with any of the albums I might have listed to feel confident ranking them. A lot of good music was released this year and there wasn’t enough time to listen all of it, multiple times over. Let’s start with a few honourable mentions.
- Favourite local albums not on this list: Shared Health by orchi; Slingshot by JayWood; Someday Is Today by Living Hour.
- Favourite Radiohead album in all but name: A Light for Attracting Attention by The Smile. C’mon, fellas. “The Smile?” You’re not fooling anybody. That’s just Radiohead 2. Radiohead 3, if you count Atoms for Peace.
- Favourite movie score: Howard Shore’s score for Crimes of the Future (dir. David Cronenberg).
- Favourite individual songs not on an album listed below: “A Love Letter” by KEN mode; “Following Eyes” by Soccer Mommy; “God Is a Reptile” by JayWood; “Midnight Sun” by Nilüfer Yanya; “Quicken” by Robert Diack; “Troglodyte” by Viagra Boys.
25. Whipped Stream and Other Earthly Delights by Moth Cock (improvisational electronic/jazz)
24. Depuis by Lydia Képinski (electropop)
23. The Unraveling of PUPTHEBAND by PUP (pop punk)
22. Hellfire by black midi (prog rock)
21. Big Time by Angel Olsen (country)
20. And in the Darkness, Hearts Aglow by Weyes Blood (pop)
19. Warm Chris by Aldous Harding (rock)
18. Earth Patterns by Szun Waves (jazz)
17. Julius Eastman, Vol. 2: Joy Boy by Wild Up (classical)
16. Sick! by Earl Sweatshirt (hip hop)
15. Ancient Songs of Burlap Heroes by Nate Wooley (jazz)
14. s/t by Joyful Joyful (drone)
13. “… On Reflection” by William Basinski & Janek Schafer (ambient)
12. Trust Fall by Yes We Mystic (art rock)
11. Mowing the Leaves Instead of Piling ‘Em Up by Wednesday (covers album)
10. Evergreen by Patrick Shiroishi (jazz)
9. s/t by Florist (ambient/folk)
8. Pompeii by Cate Le Bon (pop rock)
7. Blue Rev by Alvvays (dream pop)
6. Together by Duster (slowcore)
5. Live in Montreal 2018 by Klara Lewis (electronic)
“Let me get this straight,” I can hear you starting to interrupt, “you’re putting an album recorded four years ago in your top five of 2022? What the hell is wrong with you?” To answer your questions in order: “yes” and “many things, but that’s neither here nor there.” I came here to chat about this excellent album, which, despite the title was only released in January of this year. You know how the most annoying people on the Internet spent years smugly insisting Die Hard was the best Christmas movie until that opinion gradually filtered its way to your most normie uncles? And then all the remaining holdouts (myself included) were finally forced to admit, “OK, fine! You win! It’s a fucking Christmas movie! Are you happy now?” I’m going to do the exact same thing with this album, except about Halloween. Live in Montreal 2018 is the best Halloween album. It wasn’t recorded on Halloween, but that’s not a disqualifying factor. (After all, Die Hard’s theatrical release was in July, and that doesn’t stop anyone from calling it a Christmas movie.) What makes Live in Montreal, a continuous 48-minute electronic composition, a Halloween album? I don’t know. It’s just spooky. Haunting, if you will. It wouldn’t sound out-of-place as the score to a horror movie. And that’s good enough a definition for me.
4. caroline by caroline (post-rock)
I can’t think of a good opening sentence to this paragraph, so let’s start with an easy comparison. This self-titled debut by the plaintive British octet evokes a somewhat “folkier,” stripped-down version of Black Country, New Road’s 2021 debut for the first time. With abstract simplicity, the lyrics touch on well-worn themes of loneliness, disillusionment with one’s hometown (“I’m getting tired of this place, you’re right”), and the inevitability of death. The central melodies of each song are usually slow and highly repetitive, but this heightens the tension and makes their extended, seemingly improvisational outros all the more satisfying. The final five minutes of “Skydiving off the library roof,” for example, are especially cathartic. The melody becomes more streamlined, and the musicians play quieter and quieter until only the violins are audible. Then the drummer suddenly starts flailing on their kit, and the electric guitars reassert themselves, before both instruments disappear for good, leaving us once again with the same violin motif that was running through the piece this whole time.
3. I get along without you very well by Ellen Arkbro & Johan Graden (minimalist)
Is “minimalism” a genre unto itself? It feels like I’m missing a noun there. Minimalist, what exactly? I’m not too sure. I could call it ambient, or classical, or jazz, but none of those really fit. “Words will lose their meaning,” as Arkbro sings in the opener. All I can say for sure is, it’s very minimal. Delicate. To use a cliché typically reserved for dream pop, ethereal. It feels like a lost Mark Hollis recording. This album took me multiple listens to truly “get,” but I’m happy I gave it another chance. It so richly rewarded my renewed focus. Arkbro’s elegant vocals and Graden’s multi-instrumental prowess are quietly overwhelming. The emotional impact can really creep up on you.
2. LABYRINTHITIS by Destroyer (rock, etc.)
Dan Bejar’s outfit returns with another genre-bending five-alarm banger. I know that only morons and hacks describe a musical album as “genre-bending,” but (1) I am both of those, and (2) the phrase does apply here. Classifying LABYRINTHITIS as one genre or another wouldn’t really do it justice. It’s somewhere under the “rock” umbrella, drawing influences from pop, funk, ambient, and musique concrète. You know what, I changed my mind: that does do it justice. That’s descriptive enough. What more do you want from me?
In particular, I want to highlight “June,” which contains some delightfully cryptic lyrics in its deranged, two-and-a-half-minute spoken word outro. “Oh Aggie, your beating heart was a carriage made of gold?” “‘You have to look at it from all angles,’ says the cubist judge from cubist jail?” Huh? What the fuck does any of that mean? The correct answer is: “who cares.” Just have fun with it.
1. Music for Four Guitars by Bill Orcutt (instrumental rock)
Usually, one’s favourite album of the year is the one that held the most emotional resonance for the listener. If not that, then it’s often the most technically impressive album. For 2022, however, my AOTY is simply the one I listened to the most. Music for Four Guitars does precisely what it says on the tin. Across 30 minutes, Orcutt delivers 14 of the catchiest (four-)guitar riffs I’ve heard all year. My only complaint is that he doesn’t spend longer “exploring the space” of his tunes. Some songs end too abruptly for my taste, but I suppose that’s better than the alternative. The expression is “always leave them wanting more,” after all.
ruminations of a sad oaf. 