Albums

Recorded live at Bear Creek Studios with no click tracks and minimal overdubs, “The Landfill” finds Fruit Bats in full flight and a songwriter discovering how immediacy translates when the whole room is burning bright. It underlines the prominent place held by Fruit Bats in the canon of modern, rootsy American songwriting.

SILKess Demon’s “Life is Art, Art is Life” marks a departure into the folk-horror briar — visions of Britain’s native music suffused with dread and obscure ritual. One of the quiet victories of self-released, self-recorded, neurotic, folk-inflected artistry that helps make Britain bearable again.

Félicia Atkinson’s “Sans Visage” reimagines the score to Georges Franju’s 1960 horror “Les Yeux Sans Visage” — a perfect assignment for a master of creepy-beautiful soundscapes. Built around piano and studio electronics and dedicated to Gisèle Pelicot, it’s a perfect example of how experimental music can bridge the gaps presented by time, genre and gender… Its spectral beauty is lingering and at times uncomfortable, but never less than enthralling.

Myer U Clark’s “Tinderbox” is astonishingly accomplished for a debut, recalling the late-’60s Canterbury scene of Kevin Ayers, Robert Wyatt and Caravan. There’s a clarity of vision, matched by adroit musicianship and a singular conception of songwriting — a formidable first album on Broadside Hacks.

On “Ten Signs”, Dan Haywood and Harvey Lord trade dizzyingly poetic lines across an album whose rhythm is particularly striking — both languorous and uptight. Spring birds twitter through the recordings; a casual charm runs throughout. Their guitar work is soulful and unpredictable, with instrumental breaks laddering between sections in a way that would have M.C. Escher shaking his head in baffled admiration.

Styrofoam Winos are the antidote to supergroups, and “Any River” is ragged but literate Americana, tall tales told in a drunken drawl, lo-fi sensibilities and high ideals. But what the Winos can also do, as Lenderman has said, is boogie. Influences are wide and subsumed with impressive ease, always underpinned by a rootedness in the traditions of country music. Everything seems to flow.

Camille Camille’s “Enchanted Sea” begins with open wounds and ends with six minutes of humming — and the journey between those two points is one of the most quietly assured folk albums you’ll hear this year. Belgian singer-songwriter Camille Willemart has the remarkable ability to always remain in arm’s reach, never beyond you, aiding an intimate and personal listening experience.

Jeffrey Alexander and the Heavy Lidders’ “Liquid Donnon” is a record that gives every track the space and time it needs to reach its destination. It draws together dusty folk, cosmic jazz, deep psych, and free improvisation. For those who follow Alexander, the concert tapers included, this is essential.

D.C Cross’s “Open Guitar (Volume Two)” documents thirteen acoustic guitar improvisations across 3.5 hours, using locations across Australia — and their ambient sounds — to add subtle texture. The constant rush of water on Rainforest Maleny, the bird calls that punctuate This Sound at Dusk (Hobbit Tree): these details allow Cross to ease up and let the natural world share the space. Complex, experienced playing; take some time and explore.

On “Just A Day”, The Hanging Stars strip their sound back to its essence with the help of producer Gerard Love. Richard Olson continues to demonstrate his facility for tapping into the most memorable tunes while bringing to bear the wisdom and empathy that only life experience brings. The album proves the opposite of its title — they’re in it for the long haul.

MorganEve Swain’s “Babylon”, the second album from The Huntress and Holder of Hands, is a vivid, heavily weighted folk-rock album that traces how grief changes shape over time. Over a decade on from losing her husband Dave Lamb, Swain channels that long private reckoning into something communal and forward-looking — moving and epic, with a rough-hewn buoyancy that ultimately nudges toward light.

“Stash,” the second album from BCMC — the Chicago guitar-and-keys duo of Bill MacKay and Cooper Crain — pulls a range of styles from their minimalist set-up. More excitable than 2023’s “Foreign Smokes,” the musicians are happy to explore dynamically within a song. This is a generous, joyous album, brimming with life, energy and a real love of music.