2021 Latecomers: The Greatest Song Ever Written

As far as I'm concerned, Mark Germino has already penned one of the greatest songs ever written - the savage indictment of the radio industry that is Rex Bob Lowenstein, a go-to track for me in my own radio days as the autonomy of the DJ was slowly chipped away...

Now, I've not checked in on Mark for a while, but the other day I figured I'd see what he'd been up to, and was rather pleased to discover his latest record, his first in 15 years, was well worth my attention. 

Midnight Carnival contains some classic, grizzled storytelling Americana... and it also contains The Greatest Song Ever Written. Now if you're going to write a song with that title, you better have your tongue firmly in your cheek... and Mark pulls that one off with aplomb.

2021 Latecomers: Bills

My electricity's been off most of the weekend after Storm Malik knocked over a power pole near our house and plunged us into darkness. This helpfully occurred on the very weekend Louise was going out with friends on Saturday night, and I'd been looking forward to having sole custody of the remote control. Instead, I spent the evening watching a tiny video on my phone in the cold, by candlelight, before the power briefly blipped back on, then it cut out again and stayed off for most of Sunday. It's amazing the things you take for granted, like heat and a kettle and warm food & water... I couldn't even do my ironing.

As I write this, late Sunday night, the power is back on... but Storm Corrie is currently raging outside. No offence to people called Malik or Corrie, but you'll know they've run out of names when Storm Rol rolls into town.

Bill 'Smog' Callahan and Bonnie Prince Billy made a record together late last year, and it's a huge 19 track affair with guest contributions from a bunch of other people, most of whom I've never heard of... though as long as Mr. Callahan is involved, I'm happy. 

Here they are together with Bill Mackay and a sublime take on Steely Dan's Deacon Blues. The video clocks in at 4:50; the album version adds another two and a half minutes, but they could have carried on all day for me...

2021 Latecomers: Dar Dar Dar

Dar Williams is another artist who is always guaranteed a shot at Top Ten Towers - indeed, I have 7 of her CDs on the shelf, and not a dud among them.

Her latest album, I'll Meet You Here, contains her usual brand of top quality Americana, touching on familiar subjects of small town life, growing old and ecological concern. And her voice is as mesmerising as ever, especially on the closing track which feels like a fine tribute to Joni Mitchell... with added Grumpy Old Woman vibes.

Why is it that as we grow older and stronger

The road signs point us adrift and make us afraid

Saying "You never can win, " "Watch your back, " "Where's your husband?"

Oh, I don't like the signs that the sign makers made.

2021 Latecomers: This Is Why Y'All Can't Have Nice Things

It's the time of year when I feel beholden to acknowledge the records that would have made my end of year list... had I heard them earlier. To be fair, Hayes Carll left it pretty late in the day to release his new long player (end of October), so I didn't get round to buying it until I got some Amazon vouchers for Christmas. Which I guess is the modern day equivalent of a record token. Which, I was about to say, probably don't exist anymore. And then I discovered that they do. So next year, I'm asking for them instead. Screw Jeff Bezos. 

Anyway, I bought the Hayes Carll album without stream-testing it first, because with his track record, I knew it would be good. And it is. It'll probably go unnoticed by the masses, but this is why y'all can't have nice things...

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #1

1. James McMurtry - The Horses and the Hounds

My favourite album of 2021 comes from the son of novelist Larry McMurtry, the man who penned The Last Picture Show, Terms of Endearment and even the screenplay for Brokeback Mountain. Although James went in a different direction creatively than his pop, he's obviously picked up much from his old man. The Horses and the Hounds reads like a collection of expertly crafted short stories, packed with the best kind of lyrical detail, showing not telling, and leaving the listener to fill in the gaps.

I heard you switched coasts, moved in with your sister

I doubt you'd have called it familial bliss

We met up in Brooklyn before it went hipster

You carried your keys in your fist

There's more going on in the above lines (from album opener Canola Fields) than most songwriters manage in a whole song. Subtle characterisation, wit, threat, social commentary, imagery... this guy is a master. 

As with the Felice Brothers, James McMurtry is an artist who has existed on the periphery of my vision until now. I've got a couple of his records in my collection, but I obviously haven't devoted enough time to them to pick up the finer details of his craft. He's been in the game since the late 80s (Ricky Ross recently commented that a young McMurtry supported Deacon Blue on their first US tour), but he's clearly a fine wine... ever improving with age. (McMurtry would have made that metaphor work better, without the clunky explanation, but I'm nowhere near the writer he is.) He's also settled into the grumpy old man role well, with songs like Ft. Walton Wake-Up Call (that's the one with the "I keep losing my glasses" hook, as featured here earlier) and What's The Matter, Now? which feels like an uncomfortably autobiographical phone conversation between McMurtry and his long-suffering wife, but could well just be fiction. Both are very funny tunes, improved further by his rapper-worthy rhyming skills.  

Made the exit and turned up Ponce

And I’ll be damned if I know what she wants

But we gotta get something to eat

Majestic Diner’s our best chance

Pork chop and eggs oughta save the romance

It’s maybe a mile up the street

My daddy told me, if you got any sense

Better feed the woman... many years hence,

I know what he meant and I got me a plan

But I can’t read the menu ‘cause damn 

I keep losing my glasses . . .

The song I've chosen today is a much more serious affair though - devastatingly so. There's menace, foreboding and genuine tragedy in this tune. No wonder Stephen King calls McMurtry, "the truest, fiercest songwriter of his generation."

He was more than just a decent man

Best friend I ever had

When you’re shooting at a coffee can

A thirty eight don’t kick that bad

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #2

2. The Felice Brothers - From Dreams To Dust

All hail my new favourite band! I've only been tangentially aware of the Felice Brothers until now, but their latest record made me a true believer and set me on a journey through their impressive back catalogue that looks set to keep me delighted for a long time to come.

Ian & James Felice write Americana with a very individual voice. As with tomorrow's Number One record, the lyrical detail here is what impresses me most and keeps me digging further, although this is often more stream of consciousness than storytelling. But their ideas are unique, highly engaging and often bring a smile to my face, from the wide-ranging goals of their To-Do List...

Wash all the pots and linens

Find a psychoanalyst

Go the bank and deposit checks

Sweep up the shattered dish

Return everything that I've borrowed

Change all the bloody gauze

Buy a spinach colored dinner jacket

Defy all natural laws

Ooh oh oh, cancel better homes and gardens

Ooh oh oh, admire gothic arches

...to their reverence for the forgotten Jean-Claude Van Damme movie, Inferno...

We were Seventeen

Hoping for better things

Like worms waiting for wings

And high school rings

Fight Club was sold out

We went to see Inferno instead

You said, "I never even heard of it

But I liked Karate Kid"

Who's that riding on the banks of the Rio Grande?

Jean Claude Van Damme

They write their own eulogy on Be At Rest...

Mister Felice, six foot tall

One hundred and forty-eight pounds

Soft teeth, sleep deprived, below average student

Owner of two ill-fitting suits

Wearer of hand me downs

Often lukewarm, and withdrawn

Bathrobe often loosely tied

Be at rest my friend

Be at rest

...and manage to rhyme Francis of Assissi with AC/DC on the epic album closer, We Shall Live Again. 

But perhaps best of all is the opening track, the Felice Brothers' vision of the apocalypse. It sounds like REM playing Steely Dan, or like Jazz On The Autobahn...

It won't look like those old frescoes, man, I don't think so

There will be no angels with swords, man, I don't think so

No jubilant beings in the sky above, man, I don't think so

And it won't look like those old movies neither

There will be no drag racing through the bombed out streets neither

No shareholders will be orbiting the earth, man, neither

It will be hard to recognize each other through our oxygen masks

The successful sons of businessmen will set their desks on fire

While 5-star generals of the free world weep in the oil choked tide

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #3

3. John Grant - Boy From Michigan

For most of the year, I had John Grant's latest album down for Number One on this countdown. He took that slot in 2015 and 2013, and would have done so in 2010 had I not discovered Queen of Denmark too late in the day. Only his last record, 2018's Love Is Magic, failed to secure the championship, and even then it placed at a very respectable #4. This is a much better album than LIM though, and in any other year it would have walked away with the title. The fact that I found two records even better than John Grant this year says something about the high standard of music I've discovered in 2021. But more on them tomorrow.

Boy From Michigan shows the two sides of Grant's character very well. It's very much a record of two halves, and for some that might prove divisive. One half is bittersweet balladeering, and here Grant excels with material that recalls the heights of his revered solo debut. Best of the bunch remains County Fair, a nostalgic recreation of childhood highs and lows, like pages torn from his adolescent diary... it's definitely one of the best songs I've heard all year.

The other half is the one some might struggle with. Quirky and camp 80s electronica, with lyrics that recall Sparks at top of their arched eyebrow game. Of those tracks, Rhetorical Figure is the one that appeals most to the English teacher in me. Although even I had to look up "epizeuxis".

  

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #4

4. Eric Church - Heart / Soul

I wrote about the first song I heard from this album waaaay back in January.

Then in October, after living with the two albums above throughout the summer, I wrote about them a whole lot more.

I think I've probably said everything I have to, except that I feel like I've been listening to Eric Church all year, and I have no desire to quit any time soon.

The two tracks featured in the posts above both came from Heart. So here's one from the Soul disc...

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #5

Stirring Southern soul into his potent Americana stew, Todd Snider tackles Trump's resignation, the effect of plastic pollution on the world's oceans and hypocritical, amoral religious figureheads. Plus a great, low key John Prine tribute song. 

This record is funky, it's funny, it's a laid back wonder. And it's been on my playlist since March... with no sign of tiring. Handsome John would be proud...

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #6

6. Aimee Mann - Queens of The Summer Hotel

The most recently-released album in this countdown, but Aimee is always guaranteed a place in my year end round up. I think there's some kind of concept going on here, but I haven't yet allowed myself to dig deep enough. Instead, I'm just letting this record wash over me - it feels like some kind of high society New York movie musical from 50+ years ago as scored by Burt Bacharach and Paul Simon. (Even the song where she's shooting speed in Mexico sounds sophisticated and nostalgic.)

You can click on other reviews that will give you a more in-depth explanation than that, but for me this is just classic Aimee. Lush orchestration (the album is built around piano and strings, nary a guitar in earshot), lyrics that wouldn't be out of place in a Raymond Carver or Truman Capote short story, and... of course... that voice. I will forever melt at the sound of that voice. 

I want to find out what it's all about, but I also want to just enjoy it for what it is, and savour the mystery.

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #7

7. The Wallflowers - Exit Wounds

Last year was the first time Bob Dylan ever made one of my Best Of round-ups. This year, it's his son's turn. I've always been rather dismissive of Jakub Dylan, lumping him in with Sean Lennon and Lisa Marie Presley, but it turns out I've misjudged him. Turns out he should have been put in a category with Teddy Thompson and Lukas Nelson, stars worthy of their musical legacy, stepping out of the shadows cast by their famous folks and forging their own paths.

Exit Wounds is an excellent record, that proves Dylan Jr. has a voice all his own (and persuaded me to dig deeper into the Wallflowers back catalogue). Tunes that rock and hook, lyrics that reveal themselves over time with intriguing and witty detail. (I should really start writing these reviews at Number One and work backwards... can you tell that after having already written 15, I'm starting to run out of superlatives? At this rate, my Number One album will get "It's ace. Go buy it.")

Jakub Dylan has such a strong and distinct identity here, it's easy to never even give his dad a second thought.  

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #8

Happy birthday, Dad... 92 today. In your younger days, you had a bit of a Hamish Hawk hairstyle. I remember my sister used to tell you you looked like David Bowie. But I'm sure she only did it to wind you up, because you never liked that new-fangled pop music, did you?

Sam started defending Ed Sheeran the other day. "You only like music from the 1970s, daddy." I'm already a fossil. The doctor just gave me some ibuprofen gel for my bad leg. If I'm still here when I'm 92, I'll be a head in a jar. But your generation, dad, you were made of tougher stuff.

8. Hamish Hawk - Heavy Elevator

Another one I've written about before, and one that appears to have gone down very well with many of my friends across the blogosphere. Put Scott Walker, Jarvis Cocker, Neil Hannon and that bloke we don't like to talk about anymore* into a blender and this is the resultant smoothie... a charmingly literate lyricist with a knack for a big tune and some precision one liners. Add a sprinkle of Jot Division and garnish with a little Robert Smith. Delicious.

And this... this is the best song Morrissey* hasn't written (but wishes he did) in 25 years.

And I call out... isn't this living?

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #9

It shouldn't work like this. You shouldn't be able to go away for 40 years and then come back with a record as strong as anything you released in your prime.

Much has been written about why the Abba revival works, yet I still feel unqualified to comment. When I was a teenager, first getting into record buying, Abba were already a thing of the past, and were seen by many as uncool relics of the 70s. And yet, Elvis Costello, one of the first artists I truly became obsessed with as a collector, admitted to stealing their pop hooks for his biggest hit, Oliver's Army. 40 years later, on the verge of the Abba reunion, the Manic Street Preachers (never afraid to pilfer a good hook themselves) released what may yet come to be seen as their Abba tribute album.  

Is it just nostalgia, in a world dying to relive the pleasures of simpler times? Comfort food for the old folk, battered by a year of misery? Maybe. But this album could so easily have been a let down. And yet... it's not. The tunes are as good as they ever were, and the lyrics retain those quirky autobiographical details that always separated this band from other pop hit-makers.

40 years ago, they sang...

I was sick and tired of everything

When I called you last night from Glasgow

This year, they returned with...

I can remember when you left Kilkenny

And you told me: I'll return next year

Whereas Super Trouper chronicled a band sick of fame, ready for break up, When You Danced With Me shows us a group who've been away long enough to miss the good times, and forgive the bad. They still have faith in each other, so we should still have faith in them. Even those of us who once thought ourselves too cool for Abba. Now we can see the error of our ways...

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #10

10. Sam Fender - 17 Going Under

I've written previously of my conversion into the church of Sam Fender, from how I was initially suspicious of the hype and Springsteen comparisons but won over by the authenticity of his voice - both singing voice and writing voice.

Beyond that, there's not much more to say, except that after living with this album (and its excellent predecessor, Hypersonic Missiles) for a couple of months now, I'm convinced that Fender is the most authentic and exciting new voice in British guitar rock since Frank Turner.

He even managed to get Stephen Graham to play his dad in the video below... 'nuff said.

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #11

That an album of Willie Nelson singing Frank Sinatra covers (and not even the first time he's done that!) should feature so highly in my year end countdown speaks volumes about where I am right now, and how the world has treated us all.

Alyson talks of nostalgia in her latest post, defining it as:

“the pleasure and sadness that is caused by remembering something from the past and wishing that you could experience it again.”

I'm sure we've all taken refuge in a little nostalgia this year, and that may well explain why I ended up playing and streaming this album so much. The music of Frank Sinatra reminds me of both my childhood (he was always my dad's favourite) and my 20s (when I went through a big Sinatra phase around the time of his duets albums). I came to Willie much later in life, but his croaky old voice has become a great comfort in these dark times. 

Whatever gets you through the night, it's all right.

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #12

My nephew's eldest daughter woke up in the same hospital I'm working in last week, having been spiked in a nightclub. She's in her early 20s, studying to be a nurse at university. She was lucky in some ways because she felt the prick of the needle and ran straight to one of the bouncers who was able to help her to a back room before she passed up.

She's back home now and the police are investigating, but they're not looking for a young man. There were only women around on the dancefloor when she was spiked, and the main suspect is a girl wearing a green dress who left the club soon after. 

This is all new to me. I've heard of drink spiking, of course, but someone stabbing you with a needle? It seems robbery is the motive these days as much, if not more so, than sexual assault... but that doesn't make it any better. J has to wait six weeks now for the results of blood tests to make sure she hasn't contracted anything from the attack. The police advised her to go on social media and report what had happened, to alert as many people as possible to the fact that this kind of thing is going on. I thought I'd do the same. If there are any young women in your family, or acquaintance, please make them aware that this kind of thing is going on.

As if the world isn't screwed up enough right now...

12. Andrew Howie - Pale White Branches

Reminiscent of both Prefab Sprout and the Pearlfishers, the latest album from Scottish music teacher Andrew Howie is a serious work of art.

I've already sung the praises of the long lost 80s bromance of Broompark Drive, but there's much more to enjoy on this record. Every song tells a haunting tale, packed with the kind of observational detail that Craig Finn (see yesterday) would be proud of. 

And then comes Madeleine, a song guaranteed to bring a lump to your throat, with a riff to die for. 

Madeline was chasing rainbows in the car

In the back seat baby tiger tucked beneath her arm

Looking behind-ways and sideways

Queasiness swimming round her head

From the front seat, Daddy

Turns around and says,

Darling look straight ahead

By the time the Bee Gees earworm hits, you'll be reaching for a hanky.

Why wasn't my music teacher this cool?

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #14

14. Jim Bob - Who Do We Hate Today?

While Billy Bragg might think he's too old to play the angry young man card anymore, nobody seems to have told Jim Bob he should relinquish that role. His latest record is as angry - and witty - as anything he recorded with Carter The Unstoppable Sex Machine, and he's still got plenty to complain about in the world around him... perhaps more than ever.

Like a vicious stand-up routine set to record, this is frequently hilarious, but also makes you think. A few choice examples include...

Shona Is Dating A Drunk, Woman Hating Neanderthal Man

Her friends and her family too

Say, "Shona, he's no good for you

He's a beast that belongs in the zoo"

Shona is dating a vile, irritatingly self-righteous dude

Her friends don't come round any more when he's there now

Because he's so rude

As a couple they're practically perfectly matched

Because opposites attract...

Men

Men: the plural of an adult male person

As distinguished from a woman or a boy

Men: the providers, Men: the dividers

Men who destroy

Men make the rules so other men can break them

Men with their uniforms and guns

Men outside schools, when children are taken

Men, passing their ways onto their sons

#prayfortony

Tony doesn't suffer cunts

Tony hates Black History Month

Tony did Movember once

You lucky, lucky ladies

 

One day there will be a statue in his hometown

Tall enough to climb up on and pull down

So you can stamp his face into the cold ground

All that, plus the best song I've heard about Lockdown yet... it almost makes me miss those halcyon days when we were only allowed out for an hour's exercise a day. Almost.

Just a week, maybe two without cars

It was the first time I'd really seen stars

The streets were completely deserted

I pretended I was Cillian Murphy

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #15

15. Billy Bragg - The Million Things That Never Happened

My initial reaction to this record was that it was probably the most mellow thing Billy had ever recorded... and with the world as it is, surely we need a Billy who's angrier than ever right now?

Then I realised, the idea of Billy as an angry young man that still exists at the forefront of my mind, was already way out of date when he recorded Brickbat 25 years ago...

I used to want to plant bombs at the Last Night of the Proms

But now you'll find me with the baby, in the bathroom,

With that big shell, listening for the sound of the sea,

The baby and me

The Billy we find on this record feels at times defeated, even depressed, most notably on Good Days And Bad Days...

Spending my days like I’m lost in a fog

Got nowhere to walk that big old black dog

And I just can’t believe what this has done to my health

Don’t judge me too harshly, I can do that myself

As the days blur into one

I just can’t seem to get anything done

Then again, isn't that just how many of us feel after the last couple of years? So maybe this is the most honest post-Lockdown record you'll hear. And just as he was on Brickbat, Billy seems resigned to his new role, though hopeful that he might one day rekindle the fires of old...

It's hard to get your bearings in a world that doesn't care

Positions I took long ago feel comfy as an old armchair

But the kids that pull the statues down they challenge me to see

The gap between the man I am and the man I want to be

Ultimately, this is an album that grew on me with every listen, and now I snuggle into it like a comfy pair of slippers. It might not be the Billy I expected, but maybe it is the Billy I need. Maybe it's the Billy we all need right now.

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #16

16. Del Amitri - Fatal Mistakes 

Their first album in 19 years, and it was like they'd never even been away. Of course, Justin has been ploughing a solo furrow for the last two decades, but his reunion with co-writer Iain Harvey brought a welcome poppiness back to his typical lyrical misanthropy. 

Together they took aim at Brexit (Close Your Eyes & Think of England), the shameful behaviour of their peers (Musicians & Beer) and a society that just can't be arsed anymore (A Nation of Caners). There were love songs in the mix too (It's Feelings was the closest they've got to recaptured the Byrdsy jangle of Roll To Me), but also a healthy dose of self-mockery on You Can't Go Back, a song (and video) that questions whether a pair of grumpy old men still have a right to pass themselves off as pop stars...

Hopefully, they've decided that they do, and they'll be back for more soon.

My Top Twenty-One of 2021: #17

17. Rodney Crowell: Triage

What can save us from the horrors of the last couple of years? And by that, I don't just mean the pandemic, but also the politicians? Rodney Crowell has the answer, and we should all hope that if we end up in triage, he's the doctor assigned. Because his answer is a very simple one, but still the only thing we need to see us through: love.

Rodney explains his definition of love in great detail on the title track, and goes even further when he says I'm All About Love, 

I love Vladimir Putin and Benedict Arnold

And I'm happy to say I even love Donald, 

I love Greta Thunberg & Jessica Biel

Same goes for the devil if I thought it was real

This is a record about finding beauty and positivity everywhere, because it's possible everywhere. as seen in this famous image...

A sunflower growing on a narrow raft in a fog bank on the Thames

Adrift above the tide slime, where nothing holy swims

Wherever did it come from? Likely bird shit, someone said

Just a random freak of nature that refuses to play dead

Oh to be that stand up straight past seven feet or more

Aye, she ain't no faux silk pansy boys, what washed up on the shore

So let us stop and marvel for as long as we can spare

Seems you have no need for heaven when your hearts already there

Elsewhere on the record, you'll find thoughtful meditations on growing old (This Body Isn't All There is to Who I Am) and the best Don't Leave Me song you'll hear this year. But there's anger here too, because for all his talk of love, Rodney is also well aware that Something Has To Change.

Beginning his career in 1972, Rodney Crowell has been making music as long as I've been on this earth. I've dipped into his catalogue briefly in the past, but this record definitely encouraged me to investigate it in more depth.