Normally I try to live up to the sunnier side of my nickname and focus on the positives here in lieu of the sarcastic side and its shadows, but as I’ve spent the better part of the last three weeks watching my Cubs self-destruct (losing 13 of the last 19 to almost certainly torpedo their post-season chances), the Bears continuing a year-long tradition NO one in town thinks is wise (losing thirteen in a row with a possible fourteenth in line tomorrow, as they’re somehow underdogs AT HOME to a team that just got lit up for 70 points), and work remaining an almost perpetual infuriation (bringing flashbacks to the 12-14 hour daily dances with the DPM when I worked for Uncle Sam) I’m struggling to fulfill that goal a bit. As such I thought I’d take a moment to dip into the darkness, engaging a string of recent albums from artists I normally love that’ve been a bit disappointing to highlight the bright spots and try and drag things back into the light. After all, there are still two games left for the Cubbies — and fourteen for the Bears! — so you never know what’s going to happen. Who knows, maybe even work can turn things around after nearly four years of momentum and certain people’s perpetual prickishness/stupidity. NOTHING’s impossible, after all — or I’m not Bobby Sunshine!
We’ll start simply — with bands whose stuff I’ve enjoyed over the years, but who don’t have as much material under their belts as the others — before diving into the deeper cuts (both in terms of catalogs and subsequent wounds). First up comes the latest from Boy and Bear, the Aussie band whose first two albums (2011’s Moonfire and 2013’s Harlequin Dream) won me over before their next two committed the dreaded Sunshine Sin and amped up the synthesizers. (Thankfully not on every song, just enough to buck me off the bandwagon.) The new one continues that trend some, sprinkling that slick 80s feel in more than I care for, but there are a few tracks that still caught my ear — the opening “Strange World” and the bouncy “Silver Moon.” Both sport some catchy little riffs and frontman Dave Hosking’s voice remains as warm and inviting as ever (the former even surpasses the knock of a little synth!) Check out the duo here:
Next comes a duo of dancers — or what used to be acts that inspired said activity — and a pair of pairs, both of which beam in from Britain. The first is the relative newcomer Jungle, back with their fourth album, Volcano. (Their last, 2021’s Loving in Stereo, landed at #16 on my year-end list.) Despite the fiery name, the thought that most comes to mind for this one is “remarkably unremarkable” — the songs, while pleasant enough, sound so similar to one another that they all sort of run into one another after awhile. This unfortunately is something that has plagued the band before — their sophomore album For Ever was also an uneven disappointment after their exciting debut — but I’d thought they’d recaptured the magic after their last outing. Unfortunately not (maybe this is just an on/off band who alternates albums every other time), but there were fittingly two tracks that stuck out to me — the buoyant “Candle Flame” and the bright “PROBLEMZ,” which sounds like a Caribbean disco. They both stand out amongst the otherwise underwhelming remainder — give em both a spin here:
Next comes the latest from the legendary Chemical Brothers, back with the tenth album of their illustrious career. And while the boys can almost always be counted on to boost the mood and raise the temperature of whatever room they’re playing in, this one feels much more muted in its impact. Almost every Chems album plays like a mixtape or DJ set in miniature — slowly building you to a series of climaxes before ultimately setting you on your way with a nice, soft landing. (Their last landed at #12 on my 2019 list.) This one feels more like an extended session from the tail end of one of those sets, though, largely keeping things subdued and serene, like a nice long cooldown after a leisurely jog. There’s hardly any vocals and scarcely a single celebrity (Beck, who adds some croons to his tune towards the album’s end, being the sole anomaly) and while what’s here is the typically well-made music you’d expect from someone doing this for nearly thirty years, it lacks the punch of their more memorable material. That said there were a trio of tracks I thought were reminiscent of their old glory and possible harbingers of the album kicking into a higher gear — “No Reason” with its tribal drum breakdown at the end, “The Weight” with its “Block Rocking Beats” style bass, and “Feels Like I Am Dreaming” with its jittery “Under the Influence” style squelches — but they never really erupted into a characteristic explosion, more serving as momentary exclamation points before settling back into the soothing post-run stretch. Still worth giving them a listen, though — cue em up here:
Batting fourth are New York’s Woods, back with their eleventh album Perennial, their first since 2020’s Strange to Explain, which landed at #13 on that year’s list. This one finds them mining similar territory — toggling between pastoral homestead and spaced out dreamscape, as I wrote then — but this time the balance isn’t as sharp and the album suffers as a result. Here they veer more towards the latter with a series of instrumentals and songs that essentially are, sporting the barest of vocals before dropping back into the groove. As a result they (and the album) never quite take off, squandering the momentum generated by the more “traditional” songs, which are quite good. “Between the Past” has that blissed out hypercolor vibe the band’s best songs often evoke, while “Sip of Happiness” and “Weep” have a slightly darker sense of propulsion that’s equally irresistible. They definitely sparkle against their otherwise nondescript surroundings and leave you wishing there was more like them — see what you think here:
Fittingly up fifth is Austin’s Shakey Graves, who recently released his fifth album overall and his first in five years, Movie of the Week. (His last was 2018’s equally disappointing Can’t Wake Up.) As I recently wrote on the ‘Gram I was 50/50 on the tracks he’d released thus far — the excellent “Ready or Not” and the gonzo drum freakout of “Playing Along” being two distinct faves — and sadly that ratio has largely stayed the same upon listening to the full album. Graves is still spending more of his time with his more modern sounding music — which could, in fact, lend itself nicely to the soundtrack of various movies or TV shows, as the title seemingly implies: it’s pleasant, it’s innocuous, and it’s almost tailor-made to be the secondary focus of whatever scene it’s supporting.
There’s none of the emotional fire and potency that propelled so much of his earlier material — when it was just him onstage with his acoustic and suitcase kick drum. Strangely the more musicians Graves has surrounded himself with (he now tours with a five piece supporting him), the more diluted and disconnected his music has become. This is a tremendous disappointment, as he was one of my favorite discoveries of the past decade, sounding like some unearthed treasure from a time capsule or tomb. (He made my anniversary list for the best albums of the past 15 and has made the year-end list several times, most recently in 2017.) There’s still glimmers of that past, but they’re sadly becoming more of a rarity, so we’re left to savor those scant glimpses when we get them. In addition to the previous two songs posted on the ‘Gram, I also enjoyed “Evergreen” and “Century City,” which are actually much more in line with his recent material (at least the latter), but catchy nonetheless. See what you think here:
Last comes the latest from the National — a band that used to be one of my absolute faves, but one that has lost a lot of its luster in recent years. Five, ten years ago hearing that I’d get not one, but TWO albums from this band in a six month period would have been enough to send me into the stratosphere — Boxer remains one of my top shelf, close to the heart listens and Alligator isn’t far behind, and the guys have made my annual lists several times since then. (They last did so in 2017 with Sleep Well Beast, which landed at #9.)
Unfortunately they seem to have lost their way recently — the first signs of danger were when they did the typical veteran rock band thing and invited a bunch of guest musicians in to spark some new ideas on their previous album (the flurry of female vocalists from 2019’s disappointing I Am Easy to Find). The fact they did so again for this year’s outings only furthered the concern, broadening it to both genders this time with the likes of Bon Iver, Sufjan Stevens, Taylor Swift, and Phoebe Bridgers showing up. And despite some solid efforts by those artists, what’s left is less than you’d expect from all that firepower — songs feel somewhat diminished and diffuse in their impact and almost as easily forgotten.
I struggled with the first album a lot this year — more than almost any other so far — in part because guitarists Aaron and Bryce Dessner contribute some of their best work in years. The riffs on songs like “Eucalyptus,” “Tropic Morning News,” and “Grease in your Hair” all soar and immediately draw you in. Unfortunately frontman Matt Berninger’s lyrics and his croaky delivery all too often counteract those elements and grate. Berninger has been known to be somewhat cryptic before, however here his choices are esoteric to the point of being exclusionary. Mentions of tangerine perfume, Japanese novelty bongs, talking to sharks in a Kentucky aquarium, and water balloon eyes seem deliberately inscrutable and sap the songs of their relatability by being too specific. Before it didn’t matter where the nearest city middle was (the one where they hang the lights), you just knew you wanted to go there (maybe looking for astronauts or the geese of Beverly Road on the way.) Now Berninger — potentially in an attempt to shake the writer’s block he said he’s had for several years — seems to have overcorrected, bearing down on details to the point that he’s left with an audience of one. Gone is the slightly fuzzy universality of his most affecting, emotional stuff, where you might not understand everything he referenced but could easily find something comparable from your experience or share the feelings he exuded in his delivery. Now the pictures he paints feel superficial in spite of the precision and unnecessarily narrow, draining them of a much broader appeal and impact.
And yet I keep coming back, unable to fully shake it — just like the aforementioned teams at the top. Maybe this bodes well for them — if I can come around on these albums, finding positives amidst a pool of problems, maybe they can too for? Probably not (at least not for the Cubbies — time’s just too short at this point), but it’s worth a shot. Maybe once the dust has settled we’ll find a few more highlights to hold onto for next season. (Or the next listen.) Either way, check out a few of my favorites from the two albums — “Once Upon a Poolside,” “New Order T-shirt,” and “Deep End (Paul’s in Pieces).” Give all three a listen here:
That’s all for now, my friends…
–BS