1) Arlo Parks, “My Soft Machine” / Is there anything Arlo Parks can’t do? Based on her latest, I’m inclined to say no. “My Soft Machine” is a pop-folk-rock-soul pocket symphony that elides distinct observations into one satisfying emotional experience. Easily one of the strongest records of 2023 so far.
2) Colin Stetson, “When we were that what wept for the sea” / For all my enthusiasm, I don’t throw the term genius about lightly. I think Colin Stetson is one. The saxophonist and composer has contributed to some of my favorite eras of acts such as Bon Iver and The National. And his own work paints with remarkable sonic colors; his latest is a triumph of both intimate appeal and grand design.
3) AJJ, “Disposable Everything” / This Phoenix collective just keeps finding new, gleeful ways to detonate expectation. This is folk-rock till it’s punk, punk until it’s new New Wave; the band offers first-rate satire but is also smart enough to question its own sympathies and instincts. “Disposable Everything” is a joy at surface level, and offers so many fine details to dive into.
4) Stuck, “Freak Frequency” / If Talking Heads grew up in the early aughts, you might have something like this Chicago band. “Freak Frequency” is a masterwork of anxious energy, expressed in skittering rhythms, spiked guitar, vocal cries and well-placed saxophone pulls. It’s all cohesive chaos and all a true delight.
5) Melissa Giannini, “Searching for Meg White” for Elle / Let’s get this out of the way: Meg White is an American treasure. And a hell of a drummer. I don’t really abide much discussion on this, though the Internet seems content to keep the conversation spiraling. So I deeply appreciated this Melissa Giannini piece about the mystery and merits of the quieter/louder half of the White Stripes. Giannini perfectly threads a needle here: collecting the praise White is owed, and reminding readers White doesn’t owe us anything. The piece is quiet, righteous and right on time: just like White herself.