1) Wet Leg, self-titled / To know Wet Leg is to have an opinion on the British band—and I love them. The group breaks the debutante mold on their first album, refreshing indie rock with their wicked sense of humor, tart wordplay, weirdly artful vibes and serious sense of melody. One of my most-anticipated debut albums in years, and it holds up.
2) The music of American Aquarium / An excellent new single (“All I Needed”) from this North Carolina roots band sent me down a late-night rabbit hole, to discover BJ Barham and Co.’s treasure trove of ‘90s country covers from acts such as Martina McBride, Radney Foster, Pam Tillis and more. The band’s understanding of, and ability to inhabit, these songs no doubt informs their original material. And round and round.
3) Calexico, “El Mirador” / Few bands fill up my soul like Joey Burns, John Convertino and their Tucson cohort. Calexico reconnects me to my Arizona youth, and deepens my understanding of the characters orbiting that world. The band’s latest continues to work on me, with its vibrant cumbias, desperate ballads and perceptive lyrics.
4) Aldous Harding, “Warm Chris” / The New Zealand singer-songwriter crafts a delightful new record, riding the line between a maverick spirit and classically orthodox songcraft. Harding’s work zigs and zags in all the right places, keeping listeners aware—and growing their awareness.
5) Sequoia Nagamatsu, “How High We Go in the Dark” / The second chapter of Nagamatsu’s ensemble-cast novel qualifies as perhaps the saddest—and most soulful—prose I’ve read in years. What comes before and after holds hands with that passage, as the author examines a pandemic’s aftermath through the eyes and reactions of a diverse set of characters. Too soon? I’d say “How High …” supplies and encourages some of the empathy sorely missing from the past two years. And Nagamatsu’s prose is simply miraculous, a container of beauty, grace and hard-won truth.