Tuesday, July 22, 2025

Taking Stock of 2025 Albums

When the year nears an end and I'm putting my list of Top Ten albums together, the question I'll need to ask myself is whether a box set of old but newly released music should be on the list.  Because barring a musical miracle, there's no question that Springsteen's "Tracks II: The Lost Albums" will be my favorite music of 2025.  I'll get around to writing about it sometime, but it's hard to argue with a set that includes four fully realized albums (all of which are B+ or above, and two of which are solid As), a solid soundtrack album, and two CDs of previously unreleased music, both of which fill in significant gaps in Springsteen's musical history and evolution.

But that's a question for then, and not now.  For now, I'm going to include it in my mid-year list of ten, and we'll see how things pan out by December.

My listening habits have changed since I started using Spotify; it now takes quite a bit for an album to sink into my psyche to a level where I want to keep listening to it, again and again.  Given the easy access to music from the past that is not a part of my physical collection and my ongoing obsession with creating the perfect playlist, that's not a surprise.  Is it a good thing?  That's for others to decide.

So, in alphabetical order by the artist's name, here are 10 albums which reached that level:

Blondshell, If You Asked for a Picture.  Still deciding whether this is as good as/better than the debut, but this is an artist that should be getting more attention.  Call it rock, call it power pop - either way, it's very good.

The Delines, Mr. Luck and Ms. Doom.  Christgau described the record as "13 down-and-out Americana tales that the endlessly calm and unassumingly graceful Amy Boone brings to life without dramatizing much less overdramatizing them," and later goes on to say that you may never put it on for fun.  But there's no question it has a gravitas that few albums ever reach, much less albums released this year.

The Doobie Brothers, Walk This Road.  Hey, I'm just as surprised as the rest of you, but this is a very good record from a band that probably never got quite the respect it deserved.  And to answer the obvious question, yes - Johnston, Simmons and McDonald are all on board.

Lilly Hiatt, Forever.  I don't know that she will ever record an album as good as 2020's Walking Proof or a song as good as Some Kind of Drug, but this comes as close as one could expect.

Patterson Hood, Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams.  This one took a bit of listening to sink in, but after having made the effort I'm comfortable saying that it's the best solo album from the erstwhile Drive-By Trucker.

Jason Isbell, Foxes in the Snow.  When his breakup with Amanda Shires was made public, I was really bummed - and a little worried to hear the music that would come next, since they were so important to each other's stories.  Isbell responds first with what could be described as a retrenchment, a solo album in the truest sense of the word, with very little (or no) accompaniment.  There's the requisite breakup song and it's pretty harsh to these ears, which makes me very interested (and again, a little worried) to hear how Amanda might respond when her new album is released in September.

James McMurtry, The Black Dog and the Wandering Boy.  The last two albums by James McMurtry, 2015's Complicated Game and 2021's The Horses and the Hounds, were my favorites in the years they were released.  Is Black Dog that good?  Probably not.  But it's a very high bar, and McMurtry comes close to reaching it.  "South Texas Lawman" in particular sounds like a masterpiece.

Bob Mould, Here We Go Crazy.  Husker Du weren't for everyone, and even I wasn't a huge fan of every one of their albums.  But one could never criticize Bob Mould for lack of passion or authenticity.  On his new record, he manages to bridge the gap between sounding very angry and very tuneful, to good effect.

Bruce Springsteen, Tracks II - The Lost Albums.  Very glad he found them.

Wet Leg, moisturizer.  When I listen to Wet Leg, I feel like I'm back in Berkeley in the fall of 1980, a time and place where this record would have fit in perfectly with the soundtrack of that time.

Other albums I've listened to all the way through, at least twice, and in no particular order since the beginning of the year:

Kathleen Edwards, Covers.  Not all great covers, but some that are excellent.

Lady Gaga, Mayhem.  Need to listen more, because it's very good and could break into the Top Ten by year's end.

Alison Krauss & Union Station, Arcadia.  I once referred to Alison Krauss' voice as proof that God exists, and that will never change.  But so far, my favorite songs on the album are the ones sung by Dan Tyminski.

Bryan Ferry with Amelia Barratt, Loose Talk.  Barratt turns melodies from old Roxy Music/Bryan Ferry songs into "song poems."  Weird, but oddly compelling.

Beach Bunny, Tunnel Vision.  Sometimes all you need are the hooks.  And man, does this band have them.

Eric Church, Evangeline vs. the Machine.  Another one worth exploring more.

Maren Morris, Dreamsicle.  So far, I've been disappointed - but I'm not giving up quite yet.

Arcade Fire, Pink Elephant.  OK, they will never again match what they accomplished with their first three albums, but this one could be their best since then.

Counting Crows, Butter Miracle, The Complete Sweets!  See comment under Maren Morris.

Suzanne Vega, Flying With Angels.  Not bad at all.

Haim, I Quit.  I think this is their best, but need to keep listening.

Matt Berninger, Get Sunk.  Distinguishes himself from The National more on this record than he did on the last.  But you will never not hear The National when you hear his voice.

Clipse, Let God Sort 'Em Out.  My son's favorite album of the year so far; I need to listen to it more.

And there you have it!

Monday, January 20, 2025

Bosch Makes Way for Ballard - "The Waiting"

 

Michael Connelly has been writing books featuring Harry Bosch for more than three decades now, so it's not surprising that the old detective would be getting a little long in the tooth.  Fortunately, Connelly has been preparing for a post-Bosch world for a while now - in 2017's "The Late Show," he introduced the character of Renee Ballard, and since then she's played an equal (if not greater) role in the Bosch series than Bosch himself.

"The Waiting" is billed, like several books in the Bosch series before it, as a "Ballard and Bosch novel."  But there's no question that Ballard is the star of this particular show, with Bosch playing an important - but definitely supporting - role.  Like Bosch before her, Ballard is now a part of the Open-Unsolved Unit, but times have changed and now most of the unit's members are volunteers without a badge.  Which is where Bosch's daughter Maddie, now a uniformed LAPD officer, comes into the story.  Ballard has been looking for another badge to join the unit, and Maddie Bosch has been following a "like father, like daughter" arc through her interest in the cases from long ago, those where justice was never served.  It's a natural fit, and it works seamlessly.

The main story takes a while to kick in, but when it does it is completely satisfying.  Throwing caution to the wind, Connelly has decided to go after the White Whale of all unsolved Los Angeles crimes, that of the Black Dahlia.  To his credit, he allows this to be Maddie and Renee's story, with no involvement from the old man whatsoever.  What the two find in their search through the past is suitably horrifying, and believable.

By comparison, the story arc featuring Bosch - helping Renee retrieve her badge and gun, which were stolen from her car while she was surfing - feels a little tacked on.  It's not bad per se, but it doesn't feel essential to the story that Connelly wants to tell.  In the end, any Harry Bosch appearance is worth celebrating.  But "The Waiting" is Renee and Maddie's story.