For those of you just tuning in, this is PART 2 of my 2023 music recap. Check out PART 1 here.
TL;DR: My friend Patrick and I decided we were going to listen to as many albums as possible for a year. Together we listened to 1,445 albums. Yes… that means Patrick listened to 1,012. What began as a friendly contest was over in February.
Not only did Patrick out-listen me by 800 albums, he is also the primary reason this newsletter actually got done. Creative paralysis is real, and it’s made worse when you spend an entire year intending to write something, and then another four months refusing to do so. He was instrumental in scoping this project such that it could actually be finished. He also has impeccable taste, so featuring his picks is both a no-brainer and an honor. Thanks Pat!
Below you’ll find ten standouts from each of us with some brief thoughts and a favorite song. Of course picking ten out of 443 or ten out of 1,012 is not a reasonable task. Both of us listened to a lot of great music last year. This isn’t a ranking, merely a list of twenty albums that resonated. If you’re too lazy to read twenty meticulously crafted paragraphs, we also made a Spotify playlist featuring our favorite song from each album. It’s intended as a mix, so we recommend not shuffling.
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Enjoy!
George’s Picks:
Bush Babees — Gravity (1996)
I won’t waste any time. This is my favorite album I listened to last year. I’m still in awe of it ten months later (it remains heavily in the rotation). I don’t understand how I never came across this record and am dumbfounded as to why I haven’t seen it on any lists of the best rap albums of the 90s. I am obsessed with it. Where do I start…? On paper, Gravity is low key; lots of groovy synths and smooth bass lines, but it all amounts to an album teeming with energy. This is note perfect boom-bap, with punchy drums that are front and center in the mix, but the vocals don’t feel overshadowed because Lee Majors, Mister Man and Y-Tee have some of the best voices in the genre, period. All three are from Jamaica and Trinidad, bringing a ton of welcome reggae influence to what is otherwise a textbook New York rap album. The record is formulaic; relaxing melodies, tons of “bars,” the aforementioned smashing drums. In fact, you’re likely to have heard albums just like this if you’ve spent any time with 90s hip-hop. But Gravity stands out for being the pinnacle of a well established form. It’s jazzy without feeling insubstantial and radiates positivity and light. Two features from a young Mos Def and one from Q-Tip (A Tribe Called Quest) tell you everything you need to know.
Favorite Song: “The Love Song”
Steely Dan — Countdown To Ecstasy (1973)
This had to happen at some point, but in 2023 I finally grasped the significance of Steely Dan. Theirs is truly one of the most accomplished discographies of any band, but Countdown is (for now) my favorite. I love how it retains some of the gritty rock texture from their first album while leaning into the clean cut virtuosity that would later define them. As with much of their music, there’s not a speck of dust out of place. Many find that sterile, but I think the obsessive attention to sonic detail is an achievement in and of itself. Plus, it’s cool to see it expressed on songs with so much jazzy improvisation. The songwriting is beautiful and the lyrics are filled with tons of the band’s signature ennui, cheeky nihilism and snide ruminations on fame. It’s LA music made by New York people.
Favorite Song: “Boston Rag”
Mazzy Star — She Hangs Brightly (1990)
If you really squint, LA can feel country. The days pass lazily, made sluggish by the persistent sunshine. There’s a romanticized industry lifestyle sold to outsiders as a fantasy, despite being mostly populated by hardscrabble tradespeople just trying to get by. That’s not to downplay the importance of farmers (or up-play that of influencers), but Mazzy Star’s 1990 debut speaks directly to the comparison. The inclusion of a pedal-steel guitar certainly helps. Despite hailing from Santa Monica, some of Mazzy Star’s songs are as likely to evoke a west Texas dive bar as they are the heyday of the sunset strip. Overall though, She Hangs Brightly reeks of a distinctly Angeleno malaise and conjures visions of a time when Santa Monica south of Wilshire was considered sketchy. It’s a little rough around the edges in a way that good 90s rock always is, but you can easily see that Hope Sandoval was talented enough to eventually make the quarter-life crisis anthem “Fade Into You.” Mazzy Star made a huge impact on me last year and I could have easily included So Tonight That I Might See instead of She Hangs Brightly. I don’t necessarily think the latter is better, but “Fade Into You” notwithstanding, their second album is more beholden to genre conventions, whereas their first feels outwardly defiant of them.
Favorite Song: “Be My Angel”
Shuggie Otis — Here Comes Shuggie Otis (1970)
Carrying on the LA theme for a moment, I first listened to this at the very beginning of 2023 and it established one of the major themes of my listening to come, the guitar. At first glance, Here Comes Shuggie Otis struck me as prototypical (albeit excellent) music from the American south; classical blues, early rock & roll, soul, etc. Then I learned Otis was born and raised in south central LA and the rest of the picture came into focus; namely an undercurrent of surfy psychedelia and Laurel Canyon-esque folk. I want to say “I knew there was something about this guy,” but in reality the story of the California blues legend, who released three classics by age twenty-one before turning down an offer to join The Rolling Stones, only became known to me way after the fact. Nonetheless, it made me love Shuggie even more. This album, like many on this list, “has it all,” from chugging blues freight trains to tender ballads, and the fact that it’s written and performed mostly by Otis himself makes the frequent comparisons to Jimi Hendrix and Prince seem reasonable.
Favorite song: “Gospel Groove”
Jamiroquai — Travelling Without Moving (1996)
Another group whose discography I consumed in full last year. And what a ride. After listening to a few albums, I came across a Tyler, the Creator soundbite where he said “Jamiroquai is like my favorite band, I don’t know no one that talks about them.” It really does feel like no one talks about Jamiroquai (outside of the “Canned Heat” scene in Napoleon Dynamite). As with Steely Dan, the polish is exactly the point. Like many bands at the turn of the millennium (e.g. Spice Girls), Jamiroquai used contemporary sounds to make old music. But what elevates Jamiroquai above similar experiments is that the music isn’t watered down. It maintains the richness that you get from the 70s source material, but is presented in a way that feels of this century. What made disco magical the first time around is that its popular appeal often belied the fact that it was made by freakishly talented jazz musicians. Jamiroquai captures that spirit. The intoxicating choruses, sexy bass lines, euphoric bridges, and jazzy solos are all the real deal. They just come with more digital sheen and account for major musical developments since then (namely house music). Jamiroquai is pop music at its best; accessible and delightful but rarely dumbed down.
Favorite Song: “Virtual Insanity”
Built to Spill — Perfect from Now On (1997)
I saw an extremely misguided tweet suggesting that men don’t have artists that represent their psyche the way Taylor Swift represents the female. Of course men have many articulate spokespeople; among them Built to Spill. Perfect from Now On is one of my most cherished memories of 2023. In fact they’re currently my favorite band. Conceived in the extremely fertile 90s, Perfect From Now On is an amalgamation of everything great about the era. Sonically, it draws from many wells; indie rock’s twee, folk’s acoustic wistfulness, grunge’s distortion and even pop’s sticky hooks. But the album’s magic stems from the way these sounds serve as the perfect vehicle for the thematic content, feelings of persistent angst, existential pondering and respect (or total disdain) for life. Feeling shitty is shitty, but it sounds epic. The first minute of “I Would Hurt a Fly” is among the best sixty seconds snippets I heard all year.
Favorite song: “I Would Hurt a Fly”
The Cure — Seventeen Seconds (1980)
It’s hard to say a ton about The Cure’s sophomore album because it’s so simple. It’s a fast thirty-five minutes and the songs sound alike, but in a way that’s cohesive. That feeling is driven home by clever sequencing, with the heady interludes of “Three” and “The Final Sound” leading into the album’s climax “A Forest.” Despite its directness, it all adds up to an album that feels incredibly deep and strangely calm. It’s also dark, and despite plenty of uptempo tracks, the atmospheric production and catchy melodies make you feel ensconced. While not necessarily my favorite Cure album, it stands out as a snapshot of what makes them special, without any of the baggage that comes with greatness. Oddly enough, it reminds of another notable post-punk band’s understated yet emblematic second album… Talking Heads’ More Songs About Buildings and Food (1978).
Favorite Song: “A Forest”
Ryo Fukui — Scenery (1976)
Scenery feels as much like an homage to jazz as an example of it. Like other American cultural exports to Japan (e.g. blue jeans), Scenery is made with a characteristic veneration of the original form that you feel in the final product. That is made obvious when you realize four of the six songs are covers of jazz greats like Chet Baker, John Coltrane, Billie Holiday and Cannonball Adderley. But Scenery rises far above mere imitation, and Fukui’s self-conscious reverence paired with his undoubted talent give the album spiritual weight. Like Gravity, it’s nothing new, just a perfect execution of a time-honored style; with jogging swing cuts, great solos, and that distinct smokey feeling. Other things I like are more personal to me; a lengthy drum solo and a cover of my all-time favorite jazz standard “Autumn Leaves.” Back to my hypothetical list of the best sixty second bits of music… if you don’t crack a huge smile when “Early Summer” goes double-time, you can’t be helped (starts at 3:00).
Favorite Song: “Early Summer”
Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe & Ariel Kalma — FRKWYS Vol. 12 - We Know Each Other Somehow (2015)
If I ever go through a major ambient phase (I may be in the early stages of one), this album will be why. I’ve never made much time for this music, which is a bummer. I usually go for stuff that’s more structured, and when I want instrumental music I reach for jazz. We Know Each Other showed me that ambient music is in fact for me. This album runs the gamut in terms of sounds. Field recordings, click-clacks, watery synths, orchestral swells and industrial drums populate the album at various times, which makes it feel stimulating, while also being a candle-lit bubble bath for your brain. This album showed me how varied ambient music could be and I feel inspired to go find more like it.
Favorite Song: “Magick Creek”
Grateful Dead — Workingman’s Dead (1970)
This pick is a stand-in for the bulk of Grateful Dead’s studio discography, which I checked out for the first time only last year. I feel a little betrayed by the idea of Grateful Dead as a live-only band, given that their studio material is this good. I get why, but those beloved songs appeared on studio albums first. I found that I paid much more attention to the quality of the songwriting on these albums. Songs like “High Time” or “Black Peter” that I overlooked, despite seeing them performed at multiple Dead & Co. shows, came to life in ways that made me wish I paid more attention at the concerts. The studio stuff also has an advantage in the vocals department, where live Grateful Dead can be… variable (I’m sorry). Not to mention that from a user friendliness perspective, five minutes per song is far more digestible than seventeen and it’s downright pleasant to hear a selection of Dead songs that fit in a car ride. While I enjoy several of their first five albums, I picked Workingman’s because it’s a cool showcase of their folksy jug band roots, the bedrock upon which this band’s castle is built.
Favorite Song: “Cumberland Blues”
Patrick’s Picks
Big shoutout to George for inspiring me to take this journey and for giving me a forum in which to write about it. All 1,012 albums played an essential role, but below are ten that made a serious impact, each in their own way. One thing is certain; the journey has only just begun.
The Durutti Column — Obey the Time (1990)
The Durutti Column, a project of guitarist Vini Reilly, was an integral part of the 1980s Manchester post-punk scene. As that decade progressed, Britain’s fascination with emerging electronic sounds intensified. Reilly kept pace, releasing Obey the Time. He delivers his delicate yet bold improvisation on the guitar and blends it harmoniously with the house rhythms pulsating throughout the country at the time. In songs like “Contra - Indications,” Reilly conjures flamenco infused with jazz, classical, reggae and punk. It’s beautiful, and inspired my own decision to take up the guitar. I listened to thirteen Durutti Column albums last year. Although all are worth a listen, this album best represents the crossroads between guitar and electronic music, both driving forces of my listening habits today.
Favorite Song: “Contra - Indications”
Grace Jones — Fame (1978)
Having called New York home for the last three years, it was important for me to explore some of the city’s musical history. Grace Jones was a New York City sensation throughout the late 70s and early 80s as a supermodel, actress, singer/songwriter and socialite. This album, produced during the height of New York's hedonistic club culture, is perfectly fit for one of the city’s many infamous dancefloors. It's easy to lock into the driving rhythms, swinging hooks, and belting melodies, mostly because the first half runs as a continuous mix, the way one might have heard it at Studio 54. But Fame isn’t only about the dance floor. Jones demonstrates her range on elegant ballads like “Autumn Leaves,” shifting flawlessly between English & French. Her sound also evokes the spirit of musical theater, which I’ve always had a soft spot for. Although the music sounds very 70s, her legacy of charisma and fame continues to influence pop stars to this day.
Favorite Song: “Autumn Leaves”
Nils Frahm — All Melody (2018)
Nils Frahm, a classically trained pianist, provided the soundtrack to many quiet evenings in the spring of 2023. While many of his albums focus solely on the piano, All Melody introduces thirteen instruments, many of them custom built. Despite the abundance of inputs, including the harmonies of a twelve piece choir, he delivers a characteristically precise sound. Although he’s stated “the music I hear inside me will never end up on a record,” we’re lucky to at least have this. After listening to twenty of his albums, I caught him live in one of the best concerts I attended last year at Kings Theatre in Brooklyn.
Favorite Song: “All Melody”
21 Savage & Metro Boomin — SAVAGE MODE II (2020)
Atlanta trap music is a treasure chest I first opened in early 2023. From there, I went on to listen to over seventy-five albums from mainstays like Future, Young Thug, Gunna, Lil Baby, Migos, Lil Yachty, Gucci Mane, and others. Many of my favorites had something in common, Metro Boomin. His beats make for such rich and sonically pleasing music, while 21’s calm and succinct flow provides the perfect punch over the brooding instrumentals. I especially love the nod to 50 Cent on “Many Men,” reminding us that rap is in constant conversation with its past and future.
Favorite Song: “Many Men”
Jack White — Blunderbuss (2012)
Jack White’s universally recognized “Seven Nation Army” riff has conquered everything from radios to sporting arenas over the last twenty years, and I finally decided to explore what else he had to offer. Blunderbuss is White’s first solo project after disbanding The White Stripes. I was hooked from the start. “Missing Pieces'' blends blues, country, and garage rock seamlessly, while his twitchy, haunted voice leaves you feeling slightly unsettled in the best way. His guitar-playing is generally subdued compared to the heavier grunge style of the White Stripes, but there are welcome moments where he lets it rip. The guitar mirrors his outward personality: pensive but always capable of a boisterous outburst. The complexity of sound on this album marks a stark contrast to his infamous riff.
Favorite Song: “Missing Pieces”
Alice Coltrane & Pharoah Sanders — Journey in Satchidananda (1971)
From the opening chords of Coltrane's harp and Sanders’ wailing on the saxophone, you know this album is going to be a transcendental thirty-seven minutes. Before recording, Coltrane spent substantial time in India studying eastern philosophies. As a result, we hear the abstract rhythms and instrumentation of jazz, but imbued with deep spiritual significance, adding dimension to the music. It offers the listener an opportunity to meditate. Although Coltrane pays homage to her late husband, you won’t find any jazz standards here. Exposing myself to this duo completely changed the way I think about the genre.
Favorite Song: “Something About John Coltrane”
King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard — PetroDragonic Apocalypse; or, Dawn of Eternal Night: An Annihilation of Planet Earth and the Beginning of Merciless Damnation (2023)
I saw this album on a list of the most-purchased vinyl records on discogs.com in 2023 and decided to have a listen. Within minutes, my mind was shattered. I threw on the record expecting low-fi Australian rock and instead found myself deep in thrash metal. By the time Stu Mackenzie's "wooooo" broke midway through “Witchcraft,” I was obsessed. Eight days and twenty-five albums later KG&LW became my most listened to artist of the year. I couldn't get enough of the insane range and blatant disregard for consistency. Growing up, I always wondered what happens when a band is no longer inspired by or interested in “their sound.” KG&LW answers that question directly. You evolve, drastically and often. I’m thankful to have discovered this band and cannot wait for their marathon sets in person this summer.
Favorite Song: “Witchcraft”
Laraaji & Brian Eno — Ambient 3: Day Of Radiance (1980)
I first encountered Laraaji in a 2023 New Yorker profile. The occasion was a new album, released at age eighty. The pairing on this album traces its origins to Washington Square Park where Eno, who had just started experimenting with ambient music, dropped his phone number into Laraaji’s tip jar as he performed to bystanders. The timing was perfect. Laraaji’s gentle touch on the zither and the hammered dulcimer gave Eno a solid foundation to work with. He takes Laraaji’s raw playing and draws it out, layering the sounds and adding other electronic elements, as illustrated in “Meditation No. 1”. The story of connection between the two makes the resulting output more powerful. While Eno gave Laraaji a global stage, Laraaji’s instrumentals make this one of Eno’s strongest ambient works.
Favorite Song: “The Meditation No. 1”
2Pac — All Eyez On Me (1996)
Throughout the year, I became accustomed to looking at album length. Forty minutes was great, the standard duration of almost every LP produced before 1985. Records exceeding sixty made me think twice. So when I decided to do the full Notorious B.I.G. and 2Pac catalogs, this 132-minute behemoth gave me substantial pause. But I got over that abruptly. Pac’s west coast flow never lets up and the entire album is packed full of classics. One of the best long listens I experienced all year.
Favorite Song: “Can’t C Me”
Pink Floyd — Meddle (1971)
When I started this experiment, I had no formal plan outside my 1,000 album goal. In the first few weeks of the year, I realized there were certain discographies I wanted to explore in full. While I had prior experience with Meddle, I had never listened to it in the context of the entire Floyd catalog. This album serves as the foundation on which Dark Side of the Moon built a commercially viable phenomenon. While the first side of the album flows smoothly between folksy rock songs, the true genius is in the twenty-three minute “Echoes.” The x-factor is David Gilmour’s guitar wailing like the wind passing through a valley of ruin. Pink Floyd is at their best when working with a large canvas, as evidenced by the sheer magnitude of this track. In a year where efficiency was a hallmark of my listening, I dedicated hours to this album including a very memorable session with three of my best friends on Thanksgiving. Close your eyes and turn the volume knob all the way to the right.
Favorite Song: “Echoes”
George again…
If you made it this far… THANK YOU.
And just because I spent a ridiculous amount of time deciding which albums to write about (and then countless more hours doing it), here are a handful of honorable mentions that barely missed the cut.
Samara Joy — Linger Awhile (2022) You have never heard a jazz voice like Joy’s.
Alex G — God Save The Animals (2022) Grade A angsty singer-songwriter music.
Marcus King — Carolina Confessions (2018) Perfectly executed country crossover and classical blues music performed by a former childhood jazz guitar prodigy.
Xzibit — At The Speed Of Life (1996) One of the best rap debuts no one talks about.
Twinz — Conversation (1995) Warren G produced this entire album.
Khruangbin & Vieux Farka Touré — Ali (2022) This tribute to Touré’s legendary father is the best thing Khruangbin has done by miles.
Goodbye!