Tuesday 29 December 2015

Albums of 2015: honourable mentions

The end-of-year list is dead! Long live the end-of-year list!

Earlier this year I wrote about my dissatisfaction with end-of-year album lists. Looking back on 2014, I admit that this negativity largely stemmed from my inability to find more than a handful of records I liked that year - even after I had scoured the lists from several usually reputable music critics. Thankfully, 2015 proved to be somewhat different. In fact, I've found and loved more new music this year than any other for a long time.

With the site U-turn on making lists out of the way, time to get down to business... Not only have I made a list for 2015, but I've invested a lot of time into getting it just right. Accepting that this is very much a personal list, I think I've done a good job in distilling the music that has impacted on me the most in 2015.

The honourable mention list: for critics who fear numbers not ending in zero?

Before I get to the music, it's worth reflecting on why so many music critics use this idea of the honourable mention. Is it to build anticipation of the REAL list? Is it because they are unable to stick to whatever the set limit of albums is? In my case, the albums on my honourable mention list are not simply the records that wouldn't fit into my top 10. If that was the case, I'd be writing here about Father John Misty, Joanna Newsom and Grimes. No, the releases on my honourable mention list are different - the records I loved in spite of their more obvious flaws, and often the records that were often unheralded (generally speaking) by the music press I'd come across...

Fitting with the SF leanings of this site, my first honourable mention goes to Y Dydd Olaf  [apparently Welsh for The Last Day], the debut album by Gwenno. Gwenno is the monicker for Gwenno Saunders, formerly of indie-pop group the Pipettes. The title of this Welsh language album refers to the SF book of the same name by the novelist Owain Owain... All in all, perhaps not the most obvious release to be set for world-wide commercial success.


Y Dydd Olaf was originally released in 2014 before re-release this year, but can legitimately be included here given the extremely limited circulation of its original pressing. What made it essential listening for me in 2015 was not so much its SF content, since after all, I don't understand a great deal of Welsh, but rather its cool retro-futuristic style, which evokes late 90s Stereolab. Indeed, obvious musical lineage with the Pipettes is almost completely lacking, excepting a basic pop-sensibility that is albeit shrouded in much darker overtones. Y Dydd Olaf came the closest of my honourable mentions to making the overall top 10, and while it's a highly competent record, it just lacks that extra oomph to properly compete with 2015's big hitters.

Next up comes a release I only discovered in the latter weeks of the year, Death And Vanilla's To Where The Wild Things Are. This is another record dripping with retro cool, this time in the vein of Broadcast on some of their darker and icier tracks - as perfectly evoked by the album cover:


For me, this is a record driven by several stand-out tracks - the Nico-like innocence of 'California Owls', the shimmering 'Arcana', and the brooding mystery of 'The Hidden Reverse'. The rest of the album fills in an appropriately moody soundscape, but lacks enough equivalent highs - and indeed emotional engagement - to make a credible contender for the top 10. I await their follow-up with much anticipation.

My last honourable mention for 2015 comes from an artist I've been a fan of for some time - folk singer-songwriter Meg Baird, and her album Don't Weigh Down The Light. This is Baird's third solo record (she's also a member of the folk-rock band, Espers), following a lengthy gap from 2011's Season On Earth. Don't Weigh Down The Light represents a significant departure on two levels - it is Baird's first to be composed wholly of her own songs, and it sees a subtle stylistic shift towards a new sound - more subdued, contemplative, and even mournful.


Although its charms aren't immediately obvious, at least not compared to the immediate appeal of Baird's 2007 debut, Dear Companion, Don't Weigh Down The Light is surely her strongest and most distinctive release to date. More than most of the records I've listened to, this is an album that needs to be cherished for its strengths to be revealed - precious hours of late night solitude reap infinitely greater rewards than a casual listen, when the subtleties of the musics and lyrics may all too easily fade into the background. My favourite track on the album is the beautiful and mournful 'Back To You', but there are plenty of other highlights to be revealed to the patient listener.

If you liked this, check back in the coming days for the full top 10...

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