At times in 2024, I have wondered if my music listening time has been devoted too heavily to sounds of the past and wondered if my attention to new releases had dipped a little. After all, when there are so many archive reissues alone to take a deep dive into (expansive Bob Dylan, Neil Young & Joni Mitchell releases from the vaults and a scintillating BBC box set from The Faces gave me so much listening pleasure this year and time to immerse is regrettably not infinite), I am all too aware that there is enough music already recorded to keep me furnished in stimulating fresh listening for the rest of my life. But, as my considerations for the sake of this feature took hold, it quickly emerged that there had been a plentiful supply of essential new music to light my soul, and once more, pinning it down to a mere ten titles was a challenge. There was one clear champion of 2024 for me though, an album that not only brought a spectacular realisation for an artist I have long admired and rated but also spoke to me in such a personal way that there could only be one outright winner so… step forward Leyla McCalla alongside nine notable others…
Click on the title to read the original review.
Leyla McCalla – Sun Without The Heat
I know I have written excitably about Leyla in the past but my oh my, she certainly delivered the goods in 2024 with this album. There is the impression that the record was made at a time when Leyla experienced seismic shifts in her personal life, investing the turmoil and shifting sands into every atom of her music. I know it is not always good form to stamp one’s own analysis onto a song’s meaning, but when the reflections on dismantling physical and emotional structures to open up new directions, roads and connections speak to a listener so strongly that relating it to your own life experiences is unavoidable, the music does have an added potency. I do not believe Leyla would have made such a vivid, resonant album had she not been through some turbulence along the way. Before ‘Sun Without The Heat’ came out, she released a cover version of Kendrick Lamar’s ‘Crown’, which offered more than a vague clue with that song’s “I can’t please everybody” refrain being sung with real heartfelt conviction. After being blown away by her set at this year’s Cambridge Folk Festival, I was wandering around the market stall area when I suddenly heard Leyla’s unmistakable voice beside me. She was asking a vendor the price of some jewellery. Every instinct in me was screaming to speak to her and tell her how much her album meant to me, but I couldn’t form a sentence. I guess I was a little star-struck. That has definitely never happened before; I also suppose I could not risk my relationship with this music being compromised by an awkward interaction. My god, I love this album so much.
Josienne Clarke – Parenthesis, I
“I want a truth so strong, that it comes right up and bites me on the shoulder with its friendly teeth”, sang Josienne on this quietly forceful album of lush singer-songwriter fare. That kind of straight-shooting is exactly what I get from this artist’s music. I often assess albums in end-of-year features like this based on how often I return to the record. On that basis alone, ‘Parenthesis, I’ was a winner, as I have revisited this one frequently for months. The songs are delicate on the surface, but there is deception in that first-take impression, as Josienne’s performances and writing possess a deep intensity. I do find some artists in this grain of personal, semi-confessional music almost too oppressively sincere and stiflingly polite, but this does not apply to Josienne; for the last five years, there has been a real bite and punch to her music, and she backs her fighting talk up with gorgeous bittersweet tunes. I keep track of her on social media, and it appears that her plans for 2025 include a project to sing the music of Sandy Denny. I can think of no finer female singer on the current scene capable of extracting modern-day nuance and understanding from such a formidable catalogue. Josienne Clarke remains a singer I demand KLOF Mag readers to get into.
The Decemberists – As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again
It would seem that Colin Meloy was only going to entertain the idea of bringing The Decemberists back if he felt the material was there to justify a new addition to the catalogue. Well, he made a good call with this record because, for arguably the first time, the band put out a collection of songs that touched base with every aspect of their varied and storied musical catalogue. From melodically powered indie-rock to reflective storytelling in the acoustic folk tradition up to and including a progressive rock style epic with ‘Joan In The Garden,’ this year’s model finds the Decemberists doing everything they do and doing it well.
Yasmin Williams – Acadia
Acadia is a standout album of the year because it is delightful evidence of a technically gifted and inspiring musician finding joy and expression in their playing, broadening their sonic palette, and finding confidence in expression. Part of this may be down to the audible delight Yasmin finds in some of the collaborations heard here; names like Dom Flemons, Allison de Groot and Tatiana Hargreaves can be found among the credits, but more than that, this is Yasmin Williams, as the eye-catching album cover accurately depicts, bursting out in a full bloom of psychedelic colour and warm sound.
Ac Sapphire – Dec 32nd
Of all the albums reviewed on KLOF that I have loved this year, ‘Dec 32nd‘ almost certainly sounded like it had the most potential for a genre-busting, 6Music-style national break out. There is a craftsman-like assuredness to the songwriting here; these infectious tunes show a command of the kind of melodies you only need to hear once before taking up residency in your head. It is immediate but in no way diminished because of that, and the cosmic Americana I referred to in my original review of the record should not imply trippy desert-scape indulgences because these songs are tight, the execution is solid, and the album remains one that I strongly recommend to anyone with good ears and an open mind.
Jerron Paxton – Things Done Changed
When an artist is making music with exacting attention to detail from a past era, there can be problems. The number of psych-influenced bands I listen to who have got the period attire down and the exact farfisa organ Doors-like sound mastered but then forget to actually write any good songs to attach these stylings to are plentiful and often tiresome. The same could apply to Jerron Paxton with his hundred-year-old, all-round blues-based entertainer schtick, but the great thing about Jerron is he has written some damn fine songs and the end product, albeit as authentically dusty and vintage sounding as it plays, is all the finer for it. In fact, he wrote a whole album of new songs and took them out to the people, including national TV, with an appearance on Jools Holland. He was the best thing on that episode of the show; no wonder Jools afforded him some valuable interview time too. Jerron Paxton should be around for the long haul if he keeps producing essential work like this.
Niamh Bury – Yellow Roses
Out of the records I am featuring for a late-in-the-year hurrah, Yellow Roses is the most recognisably of the finger-picking, rustic folk tradition. All the songs present that rainy winter night around the log fire feel about them, and they are great tunes, heavy on melody and firm on feeling. Niamh has a voice that can split wood, leaving an indelible impression on the ears, while the playing and tasteful arrangements reveal an upbringing influenced by classical music as much as it was traditional folk. Niamh Bury does not put a foot wrong here; ‘Yellow Roses’ is a record that will always be worth listening to as its qualities are timeless.
AJ Woods – Hawk Is Listenin’
I mentioned the term “cosmic Americana” in my words about the Ac Sapphire album before, but anyone with a preconceived notion of precisely what that phrase actually sounds like might be inclined to turn to this record by AJ Woods. His sound not only echoes the region of New Mexico that he is so deeply connected to but fuses a hotwire between the spiritual world and the natural analogue surroundings these songs spring from. Sonically, this submerges the listener in a gritty country rock framework that is literally shaken into a blur by the aggressive fuzztone guitar intervals that are never too far from view. It is the sound of a Neil Young-influenced gear head who has been around in the time of Beck and other forward-looking artisans. All well and good, but the key element, as always, is the songs, and there are some real crackers here, including the hallucinatory title track and rollicking ‘Gallup New Mexico.’
Kronos Quartet & Friends Meet Sun Ra – Outer Spaceways Incorporated
Space exploration should be represented musically with a sense of boundless possibility and an open-ended spirit of adventure as we are taken on a trip into the unknown. Sun Ra brought that element to his music as easy as running water from a tap, and his body of work demands interpretation by forward and wayward thinkers in the current music scene, which is where the Kronos Quartet come to the table as ideal fonts up to the task of re-imaging the sound and far-out ideas of Sun Ra. Other names make key contributions, including Georgia Anne Muldrow and Laurie Anderson, but the captain of the ship is always that Sun Ra vision propelled by the capable hands and imaginations of the Kronos Quartet, resulting in an album that is as wonderous in audio as it is kaleidoscopic in vision and attitude.
Richard Thompson – Ship To Shore
I began this feature by acknowledging that previously unheard recordings by some of our greatest and often my personal favourite musicians of the twentieth century can often be overwhelming. It can also be to the detriment of regular investigation of new releases. I mean, for example, since that wonderful ‘In Restless Dreams’ film about Paul Simon came out a couple of months ago, I have listened to more of his music over the past few weeks than I have at any point since the 1980s when I first got into him. I am a rock indeed! But these tantalising opportunities to take deep, explorative immersions into the darkest corners of our favourite artist histories should not obscure the fact that some of them, Richard Thompson being one of the best examples, are still releasing strong brand-new material in 2024. ‘Ship To Shore’ was another addition to a Thompson catalogue that, over the past 25 years alone, contains some of his most essential material. There really still is some fun going forward.
More end of year lists can be found here (more to come)
