Octo Octa: Dreams of a Dancefloor EP
Three tech-house tracks with no grand statement other than a general theme of post-COVID togetherness (which is nice): 12 minutes of blissout, 5 minutes of more-genial-than-usual throwback breakbeats, 8 minutes of holding hands while the drugs wear off, which to my surprise is the best one (“Come Here, Let’s Commune”, “Let Yourself Go!”)
K. Michelle: I’m the Problem
Her alleged farewell to R&B no longer contends for best-in-genre, yet it’s still felt and idiosyncratic, and her skill with a melodically complex cheated-on-and-cheating ballad should put her in good stead for her long-threatened country career, though it would be culturally richer to hear a Nashville Sound version of “Wherever the Dick May Land” (“I Cheat”, “Wherever the D May Land”, “Tennessee”)
Fabio Luisi, Danish Symphony Orchestra: Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 5
Early 20th century shots at the canon from big-in-Denmark Nielsen: No. 4 is known for its timpani battle resolving into a major-key finale, and the rendition here doesn’t stint on drama, while in the more modern No. 5, the percussion trolls the rest of the orchestra by playing out of time before ultimately submitting to collective joy, which, a hundred years ago as today, takes no mean optimism to believe in (Symphony No. 5: Ib, Symphony No. 4: IV)
Kaytraminé
Kaytranada and Aminé, neither of whom I’d thought about in some years, turn their ambitions down and the party up, with the former going all-in on weird noises—I’m not sure if the chirping creatures on “STFU3” actually exist, but if they do their communication is as alien as the aliens from Arrival—and the latter asking “who the fuck been more consistent than Kay and me”, and since these reviews are supposed to be well under a hundred words let’s move on to the guests, who create sonic variety without spoiling the vibe with ideas (“STFU3”, “Ugh Ugh”, “Sossaup”)
MFA turned producer with a strong intellectual bent if psychoanalysis counts, not quite on the fun/innovation Pareto frontier of electronic music but providing plenty of both, fitting fashionably distorted synths into four-on-the-four and oddball syncopated grooves alike and infusing them with a pervasive heaviness that both reflects the collective unconscious and sounds cool as fjuck (“I Got It”, “Hot Love”, “Heartbreakerrr”)
Ivo Perelman/Ray Anderson/Joe Morris/Reggie Nicholson: Molten Gold
My favorite of the three 2023 Perelmans I heard (there were twelve in all, I think), with Perelman’s tenor and Anderson’s trombone challenging each other for an hour and a half, the former showing once again the technical range to match anyone in avant-sax and the latter showing once again his complete knowledge of the history of trombone—it can be a bit academic, though the moment when Anderson oom-pah-pahs them into a waltz is by free jazz standards hilarious (“Warming Up”, “Liquid”)
Bassist/producer Ben Carr organizes well-performed throwback chill-R&B that threatens to be something more, sometimes due to a pilfered hook or a well-placed coo, more often because a vocalist fits like a glove, like the pleasantly sandy Rae Khalil turning “Grace” into a model of poise in a swirling world—all the more impressive given her claim that “I learned a lot of this from Aubrey”, which is like learning to be a world class dancer from watching, well, Drake (“Grace”, “Spaceships”, “I Choose You”)
Os Tincoãs: Canto Coral Afrobrasileiro
The nice thing about syncretism is that you can add the Beach Boys to your Afro-Brazilian pantheon, and it kind of makes sense (“Ajagunã”, “Oiá Pepê Oiá Bá”, “Obaluaê”)
Kylie Minogue: Tension
There’s a big gay hit, there’s a club epic, and longtime producers named Biff and Duck ensure the record never gets stuck in one groove—her best in twenty years, if anybody believes this heterosexual (“Hold on to Now”, “Padam Padam”, “Tension”)
Filipe Catto: Belezas São Coisas Acesas por Dentro
Interesting singer, with an assured high end for special effects and with real soul everywhere below that, who’s willing to attack entries like she’s auditioning for Broadway, accompanied by indie-guitar drone-riffery treated with modern muddy reverb; those who recognize their Gal Costa beyond the Dylan and Stevie localizations might love it (“Tigresa”, “Nada Mais”)
Meshell Ndegeochello: The Omnichord Real Book
As far as novel Japanese electronic instruments go, the ersatz orchestra of the omnichord has its charm, though the otomatone would’ve been funnier; the songwriting is uneven, but the jazz-funk stays intact even through the dreamy bits, and the rotating guest list ensures there’s something concrete to grasp more often than not (“ASR”, “Good Good”)
Le Sserafim: Unforgiven
Six previously releaseds and six new ones from a fast rising Korean-Japanese quintet, drawing from dance populism present and past—Nile Rodgers shows up, and not on one of the several songs with a killer bassline—without sounding too much like any of their competitors for too long; the writing doesn’t always live up to titles like “Eve, Psyche & Bluebeard’s Wife”, and girl group vet Chaewon aside, their vocal identity is underdeveloped, but that’s nothing some seasoning and Hybe springing for some Nordic song doctors couldn’t fix (“Antifragile”, “Fearless”, “Eve, Psyche & Bluebeard’s Wife”)
Gabriels: Angels & Queens
Jacob Lusk has a lot more church in his singing than your average American Idol finalist, imbuing sometimes indifferent material (“The Way We Were” gets rewritten to be even soggier) with righteousness; his bandmates have more funk than your average El Lay studio pros, for what that’s worth (“Taboo”, “Great Wind”)
Foo Fighters: But Here We Are
If I wanted sonic “naivety” I wouldn’t have shelled out for Greg Kurstin, but the playing is strong and the feeling for fallen moms and bandmates is genuine (“Under You”, “But Here We Are”)
Terrace Martin & Alex Isley: I Left My Heart in Ladera
Prolific producer Martin had his name on the front of half a dozen 2023 projects; this seemed the most promising because it had a real singer—Ernie’s kid—and his beats do bring out the sophistication in Isley’s singing, while her presence makes the keyboard etc. flourishes sound prettier; the songwriting doesn’t live up to the Sade cover, to the point that they stop bothering with words for a good portion of the end run, but does songwriting even matter these days (Ernie side-eyes us all ominously) (“Paradise”, “Honey”)
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