My Favorite Albums of 2022

Goon makes expansive indie rock, with tight and clear harmonies reminiscent of Andy Shauf, and their debut full-length was immediately grabbing from the first track. The combination of slick hooks, catchy melodies, and experimentation in the soundscape creates a gorgeous and enveloping atmosphere across the album. Hour of Green Evening is grand in sound and scope without being pretentious, and deeply engaging through its entirety.

Mamalarky’s first record paired hard charging rhythms with big, major-7th chording and Livvy Bennet’s cheerful vocals. On their sophomore effort they take the same ingredients but veer in a more psychedelic pop direction, sometimes even verging on progressive rock song structures. But Bennet’s soulful, light voice and the tight rhythm section remains, paired with keys that run the gamut from quiet and stirring to colorful and carnivalesque.

Beach House delivered this huge album in four volumes, which is gives a good indication of the scope of the record. They cover a range of styles from their discography, from a fingerpicked guitar and programmed drums combo that sound almost like Air, to live drums and walls of reverb-drenched guitars more likely to play a stadium. But throughout, they remain indelibly themselves.

Modern Nature makes music that is quiet, meditative, and slowly driving. On Island of Noise, they apply acoustic instrumentation featuring upright bass and saxophone, layered with falsetto vocals — I don’t think there is a single electronic sound on the record — to build emotional peaks which then flow away like the falling tide.

In 2020, Babehoven put out their 5th EP as well as their debut full length, Light Moving Time. Both are fantastic listens, but Sunk is the one that grabbed me immediately. Maya Bon’s gorgeous, breathy voice pairs perfectly with multitracked acoustic guitar and subtle electric guitar embellishments.

Ellen Arkbro, better known for her drone-based compositions for organ, collaborated with Johan Graden to create a set of contemplative indie-folk compositions. Her voice sounds plain, almost naïve, and it floats over piano and chamber orchestra arrangements that constantly surprise with unexpected chord changes and gorgeously flowing melodies.

Cass McCombs is a genre chameleon, slipping anywhere from country, to indie-inflected rock, to one-off genre takes (an Antillean groove on 2016’s Mangy Love, or a cumbia on this record), but the through line in his work is a unique ability to write stories from the perspective of the offbeat characters of Americana. His thesis on Heartmind is that music can affect us in a way that almost nothing else can, and the songwriting supports that through a journey on this record, all supported by his solid and humorous storytelling, and a notably upbeat take compared to some of his previous work.

Since 2019, Bill Callahan has been on a writing spree. With an album nearly every year since then, there have been some inevitable ups and downs. But this record is intuitive and grabbing, as it focuses on the simple pleasures of life — or admonishes the listener to do so. In complicated times, focusing on the joy of his two children holding hands for the first time or having a communion with nature resonated.

King Hannah makes dark, sarcastic indie rock hailing from Liverpool. Hannah Merrick’s reverb-drenched vocals provide acerbic takes on relationships, over the overcast but quietly powerful and driving backing tracks.

WitS & Smitty marry retro, soulful samples with contemporary lyrics and clean production that has just enough twists and turns to stay interesting. The album flows seamlessly with an intro, great songs, and some small interstitials, which gives Eat Your Food a cohesive, solid feel.

Endlessly funky and experimental, and the culmination and supposedly last album of the group’s 10-year career, Kumoyo Island takes us on a trip to their imaginary isle. Lush and expansive, the songs build up and collapse in on themselves, transforming and growing like a tangled tree in the jungle.

Much was made of Soccer Mommy’s collaboration with the electronic musician Oneohtrix Point Never as producer on Sometimes, Forever, but his addition truly does add a new dimension to her music. Her songwriting is as solid as ever, but is supported by a bigger sound; where previous records felt like you were in the room with the band, here it feels like you’re surrounded by a monumental noise.

This album is an overblown expedition through Big Thief’s oeuvre, from the sublime indie to outright ridiculous country-folk (they attempt rhyming “finish” with “knish” with a straight face). But if you can ignore the jaw harp and poor wordplay, the band sounds as close-knit and tight as ever, and the compositions and arrangements are intriguing and layered. It’s a perfect road trip record, as it will probably take you through as many states as your trip will.