My Favorite Albums of 2019

Big Thief pairs emotional, evocative, and vivid lyrical imagery with beautifully orchestrated and performed music. U.F.O.F. has a huge range, with lead singer Adrienne Lenker’s unique voice, subtle harmonies, tender percussion, and the occasional ripping guitar line leading to a captivating listen.

Sampa, a Melbourne-based rapper with a grabbing voice and a polished, staccato flow, delivers an opus, a mission statement, and a personal history (she was born in Zambia and grew up in Botswana) all wrapped up in this massive 19-track debut. She tells the struggles of making it in the music industry as a woman of color in flows sometimes reminiscent of Jay-Z at the top of his game, backed by soul samples and afroboeat.

STONECHILD is filled with finger-picked folk music about the darkness—and a few joys—of motherhood. The production (done partially by PJ Harvey) add in enough subtle electric elements and harmony vocals to give the record a great, varied texture.

Mega Bog make music that is just downright strange. But these direct expressions of front-woman Erin Birgy’s psyche are immediately grabbing and always deeply interesting, even when occasionally dissonant.

In this sprawling double-album, Bill Callahan appears to be something not evident in his nearly-30-year back catalog: happy. In the longer than usual break between this and his last record, he got married and had a child, and the songs reflect this new stage in his life. They are airy, open, optimistic, and describe the new questions and challenges that lie ahead.

You hear a lot about the genre of horror movies, but not as much about horror music. This short, mostly-acoustic album scratches the itch you didn’t know you had: to hear songs about werewolves and the other varied evils of the night. It might seem goofy, but her gorgeous songwriting and her lyrical conviction sell it completely.

Assume Form is a love record written to James Blake’s girlfriend, and the softer and more gentle songwriting match the lyrics. It’s a sweet set of songs that put aside ignore his previous tendencies of mixing gospel-tinged keyboards with heavy drums and settle on a quieter mode of storytelling as he sings about moving from the UK to Los Angeles with his love.

By starting to listen to Cass McCombs with his 2016 record Mangy Love, I got a little bamboozled. That album is all over the place, genre-wise, but it turns out that both the one from before as well as Tip of the Sphere are somewhat southern- and folk-inflected. But the songwriting is as good as ever, and the immaculate production make this record a great listen.

Luke Temple, of Here We Go Magic, brings some of their trademark elements into his solo work; swirling, repeating patterns that become koan-like as they pull you in. He builds an engrossing sonic world with great production and arrangements, as well as 3 pseudo-instrumental concept signpost tracks scattered throughout the record.

Olden Yolk is a Brooklyn band with a throwback vintage-psychedelic sound (sometimes reminiscent of Ghost of a Sabertooth Tiger), that is soft, easy to get into, and quite appealing. It’s a neat trick: the approachable sounds cover up some heavier lyrics and a concept loosely based on a 1938 piece of theater criticism.

Melina Mae Duterte’s pleasant, summery songwriting plays perfectly with her sparkly clean, self-produced recordings. The songs are exquisitely crafted — layered guitars and keyboards over slick drumming and driving, soulful bass — and mix charming lyrics with engaging instrumental sections.

The vague western theme and the funk-tinged album single Choo Choo both got a lot of press with the release of this record. But that obscures the fact that under the surface is a set of typically great, low-key Mac songs.

On A Healthy Earth, peaer trains their quirky and charming math rock on climate change and consumerism. While the messaging can sometimes be heavy-handed, they balance great melodies and hooks with the more aggressive time-signature-changing tendencies of the genre, making the record a lot of fun and quite easy to enjoy.

The contrast between the 80s sound (synth-drenched drum machines) and the topical subject matter (liberal politics and trans rights) makes for interesting listening, though I miss their guitar-driven earlier work.

Bonus EP! After a lackluster sophomore effort, Sunflower Bean came back with this utterly endearing EP of 80s rock-and-roll pastiche. It’s a great 11-minute jaunt; turn this on instead next time you feel like an episode of Stranger Things.