1) Moby, “Reprise” / There are plenty of faults to find with the music man we call Moby. But the artist has always crafted compositions that reach deep inside, that sound out the grand sweep of the world and the small joys and pains of living human. Moby takes a thoughtful trip inside his own music on this new collection, a return to previous songs, rearranging them to be alternately more cinematic, simpler and more soulful. I’m a sucker for artists revisiting and revising their songs, and this is a golden example of what can happen.
2) Bachelor, “Doomin’ Sun” / Jay Som’s Melina Duterte and Palehound’s Ellen Kempner and great apart and—as this new collaboration proves—together. Bachelor’s music is hip and square, suitably funky while residing within the confines of indie rock, a real act of joy. After “Doomin’ Sun,” I’m read for more Jay Som, more Palehound and much more Bachelor.
3) June Jordan, “The Essential June Jordan” / This wonderful collection presents a thorough portrait of the late poet, Jordan in all her radical, righteous and romantic glory. This is still a writer to be reckoned with, and this “essential” set provides dozens upon dozens of reckoning points.
4) Willy Vlautin, “The Night Always Comes” / Man, I love Vlautin. The musician-turned-one of my favorite novelists understands so well the little shred of the human soul that will never give up, and keeps pressing on even into the darkest part of the night. That shred's alive in Lynette, a main character who will piss you off, stress you out and make you fall in love. The book breezes by at just over 200 pages, but gestures toward gentrification, family dysfunction, mental illness and more in ways that feel thoughtful, not cursory. There is an accessible melancholy in all Vlautin's work and, here, also enough hope to hang onto.
5) Fady Joudah, “Tethered to Stars” / The poet’s latest is just flat-out gorgeous, holy in its attention to detail and seeking understanding of the cosmos that covers and envelopes us. Joudah can dive into the tragic tale of Sandra Bland and come out with the connective tissue which binds us all, or stargaze and express sheer awe at being alive.