Keepers 2016

Despite the short list, I tried a lot of new music and very little stuck. Given my location, the glut of Americana (does the very term make you groan like me?) and mainstream country has driven me further those locally exalted genres. Most days, I’ll stick with my Essential Waylon Jennings although as you'll see, a few local artists make an impression.

Dinosaur Jr. don’t make bad albums and 2016’s Give ‘em a Glimpse of What Yer Not preserved their streak. But no one needs to hear me ramble about them. Iron & Wine released a duets album with Jesca Hoops that received a week of solid listening before I forgot it completely, only remembering the record when Sam Beam’s limp Time After Time cover played endlessly over a McDonalds’ Olympics commercial. You can’t go back, nor can anyone improve upon Cindy Lauper’s original.

Hearing the title American Band, I anticipated that I would skip a Drive-by Truckers record for the first time in a decade. It’s their right to go full-on political, it’s my right to ignore a record I feel missed the mark. Schmilco was a worthy Wilco effort, rising above the gimmicky name for a series of intimate, mostly acoustic songs written in the same vein as Sukirae and Star Wars. I'm sire I left out others that deserve a mention.

If the record is heavy on old white guys, I apologize -- there's always 2017, after all. If it bothers you, turn me onto what I haven't heard. Ben Crites, I will get to Frank Ocean, but not before I post this.

Bob Weir, Blue Mountain
A founding member of the Grateful Dead records his first solo record in many years with big assists from Josh Ritter and members of The National. I never expected this collection of pioneer songs to stick with me, but Weir’s stout, commanding voice gives these songs new depth. Only a River magically reimagines the traditional song Shenandoah. Followed immediately by Cottonwood Lullaby, Weir sets a mood that carries through the rest of the album and resonates even longer.

Margot Price, Midwest Farmer’s Daughter
Easily the best album of the year to crib its name from a Beach Boys’ lyric, similarities to the Boys end there as Price goes old-school country, with the influence of Emmylous Harris and Dolly Parton never far from the surface. The results are electric, and I was a fan by the time Tennessee Song waxes poetic about the state’s biggest interstates.

Robert Pollard, Of Course You Are
The sheer volume of Guided by Voices and side project albums from Robert Pollard gives even hardcore fans pause. The usual formula – a few indie-pop gems wedged between sloppy filler and half-finished songs – gets flipped on Of Course Your Are, a surprisingly lucid album that lacks the usual head-scratching decisions of almost everything else Pollard releases. It'd s better introduction to his music than all but the best Guided by Voices records.

Angel Olson, My Woman
Every so often, I crave some shimmery pop rock wearing a heavy 1950s-rock influence (I had a Raveonettes thing for a time. It passed). I know nothing of Olson’s punk past, but she crafts a timeless record here, its hooks all as infectious as those on Shut Up Kiss Me. The longer songs that round up the album meander purposefully, especially the mystical Sister.

Preoccupations, Preoccupations
Although I try not to repeat musicians year after year, at least Preoccupations had the courtesy to change their name so I doesn't look like a repeat. However, we can all agree the name Vietcong needed to go. The group's noisy brand of rock has even more menace this time around, the vocals almost snarled at times. It's a moody, serrated record, perfect for a year of sharp objects.

Radiohead, A Moon-Shaped Pool
In the past few months, I’ve beaten Burn the Witch and Daydreaming into the ground, found new textures in every listen of Ful Stop and Identikit. Radiohead has that effect. Closing the album with the first studio release of True Love Waits, the great lost Radiohead track, leaves me wondering if the band intended this record as a swan song. While never hitting the heights of their best work, it would be a worthy farewell. What makes me return to A Moon-Shaped Pool are the orchestral flourishes that add new sonic dimensions to smaller tracks like Glass Eyes, a piano ballad boosted by strings and a mournful cello.

William Tyler, Modern Country
Nashville guitarist William Tyler has singlehandedly made instrumental guitar records cool again. Full disclosure- Many years I knew William Tyler when he worked at the coffee shop next to the wine store where I worked nights. What I didn’t know was his brilliance as a guitarist. Tyler builds on 2014’s Impossible Truth, telling stories without uttering a word. These songs fit any road trip. The 40 minutes of Modern Country breeze by every time.

John Carpenter, Lost Themes and Lost Themes II
More instrumental music, this time from another old white dude. I can think of three Carpenter films I like (The Thing, Starman and They Live) but separating his compositions from film gives them new dimensions. None of these themes were written specifically for film, and they succeed as atmospheric pieces that open up the mind – you can imagine your own film to accompany the music. The Stranger Things soundtrack is considered an homage to Carpenter’s moody 1980s soundtracks (to save money he often composed his own scores on synthesizers) but the original article has produced these haunting, movie-less vignettes that easily stand on their own.

Best classical: Felix Mendelsohn, The Hebrides, Op. 26
Short lyric pieces often get the short shrift in classical performances. Nearly 200 years old, this seven-minute overture summons some serious magic. Hearing The Academy of St. Martin in the Field perform it earlier this year cemented The Hebrides in my consciousness.