Richard Law
Waxahatchee –Ivvy Tripp
Before Ivvy Tripp, Katie Crutchfield’s angst-riddled rock songs were like a cheap distortion pedal: it’s on or it’s off, and don’t play with the knobs or it’ll fuck things up.
Her beautiful and pained songs came either in the form of lo-fi acoustic numbers, as if performed drunkenly in the bathroom at a party, or with ferocious lo-fi electric guitars puking their mess all over the carpet.
Needless to say, it’s something of a surprise when the ghostly and grainy organ of her third album’s opener, ‘Breathless’, bleeds out your speakers. And that’s just the beginning of the heartbreak.
Sonically, Ivvy Tripp is veritably the youngest of Crutchfield’s albums: the cute electro-drums of ‘La Loose’ bounce along happily like a bunch of jackrabbits, before fading out to the minimal keyboards of ‘Stale by Noon’, which sound uncannily like your Gran playing along on her Bontempi.
Keeping up the lunar themes, there’s a more conventional side to Crutchfield displayed on ‘Half Moon’, which sounds dangerously like a piano ballad. And it’s bloody gorgeous.
The subject matter here carries on Waxahatchee’s grand tradition of endlessly painful love, and as ever there are the wonderful moments of self-awareness that make Crutchfield’s music sound paradoxically adolescent and simultaneously mature: what does one say to, “You’re less than me; I am nothing,” or “You see me how I wish I was, but I’m not trying to be seen.”
According to Crutchfield, “The title, Ivvy Tripp, is really just a term I made up for directionless-ness, specifically of the 20-something, 30-something, 40-something of today, lacking regard for the complaisant life path of our parents and grandparents.”
For an album that so perfectly captures a generation’s drifting directionless-ness, Ivvy Tripp demonstrates an artist who sure as hell knows where she’s going.
Father John Misty – I Love You, Honeybear
Up until his debut album, Fear Fun, the high point of Josh Tillman’s music career consisted of sitting behind the drum kit and offering the occasional harmony with a band called Fleet Foxes, on an ever-so-slightly popular album called Helplessness Blues.
Not a bad way to earn one’s keep, right? You’d think so, but now we’ve heard I Love You, Honeybear it’s surprising that Tillman managed to stay so quiet (although, it’s less surprising that he left the band soon after).
Fleet Foxes is a band in which the singer compares himself to a snowflake, openly yearns to work in an orchard…and nobody laughs. How could a band of such sickening, rustic sincerity spawn a creature whose eyebrow is raised so high it’s completely over his head (and, for the most part, ours)?
Father John Misty is, in places, too ironic to function. Piano ballads are accompanied by canned laughter from unfunny sitcoms; beautiful folk-songs with cascading melodies are undercut by Misty’s desire to “lift up your wedding dress someone was probably murdered in”. And then there’s the mariachi band…
His songwriting – besides a strange but welcome detour into Age of Adz-like glitch electro – is very much in the classical tradition. He’s a balladeer, a rock ‘n’ roller, but just as you think he’s followed the recipe to a tea you bite into a sponge filled with turdcream.
For those whose world is increasingly sentimental, or whose mates are on the wrong side of mawkish, Father John Misty is a friend for life; I Love You, Honeybear is his gift to you.
Sufjan Stevens – Carrie & Lowell
Back in April, I wrote at fairly substantial length about Carrie & Lowell. The intervening months, and the subsequent exemplary releases, have not dissuaded me from the feeling that this is the year’s album that will remain closest to my heart.
That being said, I’ve listened to the record all but two, maybe three times. Surely a fairly crucial measurement of a work’s worth is how much it warrants repeated immersion?
The problem with Carrie & Lowell is that it’s too relatable. Unless you have plans to live forever, this meditation on death will hit you hard, perhaps opening up some wounds in the process. You will come face to face with mortality, the transience of those whom you love, the universe, and – who’d have thunked it – good ol’ you.
Imagining dying, or a world without you, or the very inability to experience living – that’s a big ask of us considering the comparative effort it takes to watch endless re-runs of Deal or No Deal. But Sufjan reminds us that awareness of one’s mortality can be healthy, maybe even motivating (particularly if one is simultaneously aware that Noel Edmund’s fortune rests on compèring a daily mass box opening festival).
Ultimately, as with other tortured artists, Sufjan Stevens pain is culture’s gain. Where his suffering will be lost to history, Carrie & Lowell will take its rightful place.
Rich Law
Richard has done nothing to justify writing about himself in the third person. A minor writer destined for baldness.
Nathan Harris
Shamir – Ratchet
It’s a rare thing now to hear a unique voice in music, and Shamir’s debut LP is assuredly that. His effeminate vocal might not be for everyone, but those that can get on board with it will find a refreshing, dazzlingly realised dance pop record in Ratchet. Quietly making waves as a pop oddity on Youtube, Shamir came out with a bang after dropping ‘On The Regular’, a cocky exclamation of his signature sound – ‘yes, yes I’m the best fuck what you heard/ anything less is obviously absurd’. Follow up single ‘Call It Off’ is killer as well, a dizzyingly melodic out and out banger, and both songs are indicative of Shamir’s proclivity for the slightly bizarre but catchy as hell pop song. The rest of the record is slightly more reserved but thankfully all the more sincere- a myriad of big clean-cut synths and simple, tight drumbeats. The cynic in me wants to pull away from how current he feels as an artist, a proponent of weird dejected teens everywhere and flashy bright colours, a prophet of the new Youtube generation, but there’s enough LCD Soundsystem in there to keep me hooked. Alas, we all need to adapt. Ratchet 4 LYF.
Etienne de Crecy – Super Discount 3
For the uninitiated, Ettiene de Crecy is considered to be one of the founding fathers of French touch, a sound propelled to greater heights by the likes of Daft Punk and Justice. His collaborative project Super Discount has spanned three decades, and the latest iteration, Super Discount 3, is the best record yet. Baring broader appeal than previous efforts, Crecy has adopted what could be perceived as his most radio friendly persuasion, relying less on jarring techno in favour of a fuller synth sound, allowing his pedigree to shine through. Emphatically French, SD3 features some great guest spots, such as an alluring moody vocal from Kilo Kish on ‘Follow’ and co-production from long time collaborator Alex Gopher on the infectious ‘Smile’. Released over a decade after Super Discount 2, it’s clear that the time has served Crecy well, with SD3 offering an appropriate evolution of his sound, delivering the most consistent, polished album of the three. Sitting amongst countless other indie dance records being released this year, SD3 is a standout, and with it Crecy further secures his position among the all time great electro acts.
Jamie xx – In Colour
Ever since The xx became a big deal, driving force and producer Jamie xx has been the darling of the blogosphere and the poster boy for the British electronic music scene. After tantalizing sporadic releases, and 2011’s collaboration with Gil Scott Heron, We’re New Here, the announcement of a solo full length had people excited. Touted as one of the most anticipated records of the year, In Colour spectacularly delivered. It’s a dramatic, demanding affair right from the outset, every song building with a keen sense of progression and climax. It’s a thematically coherent record, in that it all has an idea of an aesthetic; some vague future idea of music, as is evident in the spectacular video that accompanies lead single ‘Gosh’. Often sparse and thoughtful, Jamie’s masterful sampling is a powerful agent in creating a groove that locks you in and won’t let go, making for one of the best British electronic records in recent memory. Fellow xx band-mates Romy and Oliver Sim make guest appearances as well to great effect, with Sim’s vocal on ‘Stranger In a Room’ a particular highlight.
Nathan Harris
Producer & Illustrator
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