Except for a couple of my selections (Kassi Valazza and The Circling Sun were new names to me in 2023), it would appear that the year has been a strong one for artists a little way into their careers who continue to grow and bloom musically. Yes, there is a thunder-cracking thrill with those acts who shine bright on an unsurpassed debut release, but those who develop, mature and evolve to make increasingly essential music with each successive release are equally, arguably more, worthy of celebration. Check these ones out as you watch the planes go by…
Kassi Valazza – Kassi Valazza Knows Nothing
If I am going to give an accurate presentation of my albums of the year, then I must pick the ones that inspired the most repeated listens, those that demanded deeper dives and injected me with the need to dig out a physical copy for my personal collection. This incredible, subtly captivating record is indubitably at the top of that list. There is an undeniable nod to the late sixties, crazy horse riding Laurel Canyon scene in the tone and attitude; somehow, I just felt there was something pretty cosmic about this record. The best country sounds always see a darkness, and Kassi plugs into that mood with absolute conviction. I came back to this album not merely for the ever-present shimmer in the songs but also for the way it has no time for barriers. If a track needs a guitar part that steps on the distortion pedal and stretches out in a frenzy of fuzz, then that is what it gets, an approach resulting in recordings that plough the sonic potential in these swaying country ballads to brilliant effect.
Shana Cleveland – Manzanita
In other threads of my music-collecting life, I have a love of sixties garage-rock and psych sounds, so Shana is known to me as the lead guitarist and vocalist of the surf rock band La Luz. She was also previously a member of The Curious Mystery, but here in 2023, the haunting kaleidoscope of sounds and floating melodies on this solo release made for a record that was one of the most delightful revelations of the year. Opening track ‘A Ghost’ sets the scene for a collection of songs that gel together fantastically well. They sound like a broadcast direct from the hazy limbo we occupy in those half-aware moments between a deep sleep and properly waking up. A floating mirage of swirling sunset sounds that subdue the mind and thrill the senses. I sincerely hope that more and more people are alerted to this album; it is a sensual piece of work perfect for the wee small hours.
Mick Flannery – Goodtime Charlie
This was Flannery’s ninth album, and it has a deserved place in my top ten because he exudes an almost effortless brilliance in both writing and performance. The on-tap availability of music these days does enable me to check out probably hundreds more albums than ever before. Very often, even with the good ones, I will make a note of two or three tracks that are highlights. With ‘Goodtime Charlie’, I had to flag up pretty much every single song. This is so good all the way, yes there are some collaborative spotlights of note, particularly those of Anais Mitchell and Valerie June, but at the centre of it all is Mick, who packs the soulful punch of peak period Van Morrison, the aching lilt of Ray LaMontagne in that rough-edged voice and songwriting chops of a modern-day Cat Stevens. How is it artists this good are not held aloft as the standard all should strive to attain?
The Circling Sun – Spirits
There is an unmistakable air of the Pharoah Saunders spiritual jazz vibe to this graceful wave of sonic sorcery. As much as I am including it in my list of essential new music of the year, in reality, this collective of musical space cadets had been boiling up a reputation as a live act, paying homage to the sounds of Afro-American Jazz, for over two decades. Therefore, ‘Spirits’ is the ultimate slow-burning debut album and surely a labour of love in the truest possible sense. That they did finally land this motherlode of originals though was a cause for celebration because, for me, instrumental sounds and musicianship as good as this defy categorization. Sometimes you just have to admit that a band are pulling off the all too undervalued trick of being incredibly good.
Brigid Mae Power – Dream From The Deep Well
Brigid is a stately singer-songwriter performer whose songs are often hymn-like meditations and by now, on her fourth album, there is a track record of dependable excellence starting to build. In fact, the previous album, ‘Head Above The Water‘, was one of my favourite records in 2020 (one that seemed to really glow with warmth and texture on the vinyl pressing), so this one was eagerly anticipated, and its merit less of a surprise. The title track alone, wherein the lyric seems beaten down by people falling short of the idealised testimonies they bestow upon themselves as Brigid pools her resources to continue aiming high, even as others go low, is proof enough of the power and conviction in her music. Still, the whole album is a thing of beauty, playing to a similar high standard throughout.
Lisa O’Neill – All Of This Is Chance
As Lisa speaks the words of Patrick Kavanagh on the opening title track of this revelatory album, she can be heard to say, “come with me imagination.” That in itself could be used as an instructive text for the listener as they dive into a record by Lisa, for she takes you on a journey and refuses to pick up diffident passengers; if you are getting on board with her music, you need to open your head and your heart. Lisa’s world is surrounded by friendly ghosts, she is not of the consumerist world but the spiritual and natural one. Birds sing and Lisa yelps with delight; this music is akin to a call and response to the wider universe that passes most of us by as we go about our daily, earthly grind. Since ‘All Of This Is Chance’ came out at the start of the year, I sense that O’Neill is getting herself some of the wider appreciation she richly deserves, I hear her on the radio, and she has been seen on TV. If you want to catch a real voice, a vocalist with range, strength and character, look no further than Lisa O’Neill.
Lankum – False Lankum
Much like Lisa O’Neill, the music of Lankum this year has reinforced the impression that folk music is in the healthiest place it has been for a good while. Acts like these two are making music for the modern times proud to show its roots, even though those roots have been dug up whole and firmly re-set in a modern context. As a lover of folk all my musical life, a song like ‘Go Dig My Grave’ has been familiar to me in many variations over the years but never have the words packed such a devastating gut punch as in the Lankum version. Something in the juxtaposition of the everyday life of a man arriving home from work to the irreparable devastation of that same man cutting his daughter down from a rope is too much; the extended drone that follows does nothing to heal, instead it pins you to the floor, the hurt is unrelenting. All told, pretty damn essential folk music I would say.
Nick Waterhouse – The Fooler
This was an album that played like a high-end piece of gritty, modern Americana dragging us through the dark ends of a US city street to feel all the ghosts in the air amid memories of those who walked those byways before. For my money, it was easily one of the essential LP releases of the year. As a fan of Lou Reed, I especially love how on certain tracks, ‘Late In The Garden’ being the best example, Nick wears his Velvet Underground influence loud and proud. It absolutely struts a waiting-for-the-man style with conviction, so much so that Nick even offers a “walk it home” aside towards the end. Elsewhere the combination of echo chamber fifties production sheen and vintage R&B momentum stir up a melting pot of pure class.
Laura Cantrell – Just Like A Rose: The Anniversary Sessions
The anniversary referenced in the title was, in fact, due to be the twentieth since Laura’s essential 2000 debut record ‘Not The Tremblin’ Kind’, an album that I recall John Peel getting very, understandably, excited about at the time. Well, the pandemic derailed that intention, but the music captured in these sessions was well worth the wait all the same. The record included contributions from Steve Earle, Buddy Miller, Rosie Flores and Paul Burch, and despite the suggestion of the title, it is not a re-run of that original album but more a rip-roaring session that offers a chance to cut some rug with old friends and old favourites. It is easy to understand why she caught Peel’s ear, Cantrell may identify as a country artist, but her musical net is cast wide and her ears are open. You hear it on ‘The Anniversary Sessions’ as she references everything from fifties jazz, sixties girl-group gloop and outright bar-room rockabilly. Best of all, this album proves that all that early promise has bloomed into something very special.
Ron Sexsmith – The Vivian Line
Finally, 2023 saw another first-class dispatch from this Canadian singer-songwriter, who has now been delivering artfully crafted tune-smithery for almost thirty years. ‘The Vivian Line’ retains that unique laconic disposition present from the outset and rarely deviates from the baroque, folk-rock balladeering that has been his calling card from day one. But crucially, much like similarly gifted writers such as Richard Thompson or Elvis Costello, a Sexsmith album can be sure to contain at least three or four songs so refined that they will surely end up as classics. Here it could be the singular yarn that proudly declines to follow modern trends, ‘Outdated And Antiquated’, or ‘Country Mile’, which is all too glad to turn away from the city in favour of rural peace; listeners would do well to follow for as always with a Ron Sexsmith release, there is gold in them hills.