Fluid Imagination“[R]esounding evidence” shows that…corporate profits accounted for about 53% of inflation during last year’s second and third quarters. Profits drove just 11% of price growth in the 40 years prior to the pandemic.
— Half of recent US inflation due to high corporate profits, report finds, The Guardian
The Republican base actively embraces Trump’s grievances; it emulates his pettiness; it supports his childlike inability to accept responsibility. These voters are not sighing in resignation and voting for the lesser of two or three or four evils. They are getting what they want—because they, too, are set on revenge.
A third of Republicans—and four in 10 voters who have a favorable view of Trump—agree with the statement that “true American patriots may have to resort to violence in order to save our country.” But violence against whom? We are not under foreign occupation. When people talk about “resorting to violence” they are, by default, talking about violence against their fellow citizens…
— Trump Wants Revenge—And So Does His Base, The Atlantic
Unlike other seemingly intractable problems, the demise of local news wouldn’t cost very much money to reverse. Journalists are not particularly well compensated. Assuming an average salary of $60,000 (generous by industry standards), it would cost only about $1.5 billion a year to sustain 25,000 local-reporter positions, a rough estimate of the number that have disappeared nationwide over the past two decades. That’s two-hundredths of a percent of federal spending in 2022…If more public or philanthropic money were directed toward sustaining local news, it would most likely produce financial benefits many times greater than the cost.
What do government officials do when no one’s watching? Often, they enrich themselves or their allies at the taxpayers’ expense.
– The Local-News Crisis Is Weirdly Easy to Solve, The Atlantic
Every year, I challenge myself to read a certain number of books. I used to set my goal around thirty, but I read over fifty books in both 2021 and 2022, so this year, I set my goal at forty.
Once again, I read over fifty. Fifty-six, to be exact.
While used to provide a short summary and review of each book, no one wants to read (and I don’t want to write) fifty-six book reports. So this year, I’ll give you the Top 10 Books I Read in 2023 before posting the whole list.
Andy Weir
An astronaut wakes up next to two dead bodies on a spaceship with no memory of who he is or what he’s supposed to do.
Adrian J. Walker
A meteor shower has destroyed most of the northern hemisphere. Separated from his wife and children, a reluctant father has to traverse the ravaged landscape of the British Isles on foot if he’s to make it to the last escape boat and find his family again.
Lauren Groff
A profound exploration of the complexities of marriage told over a span of twenty-four years. The narrative is split into two parts, with the first half presenting the husband’s perspective as a privileged actor-turned-playwright, and the second half revealing the wife’s side of the story, gradually uncovering the hidden layers and secrets of their lives
Trip Galey
The story takes place in the Untermarket, a magical bazaar beneath 19th-century London where fate and fortunes are traded. The protagonist is a human apprentice sold to a powerful merchant of the Untermarket. His life takes a dramatic turn when he crosses paths with a runaway princess desperate to sell her destiny and with an indentured servant whose handsomeness and lack of guile are too much for him to ignore.
Shannon Chakraborty
Set against the backdrop of the medieval Islamic world, this rollicking story follows Amina al-Sirafi, a formidable former pirate and ship’s captain. After retiring to a peaceful life of piety and motherhood, Amina is drawn back into adventure when she is hired to rescue the kidnapped daughter of a late friend.
Lilly Brooks-Dalton
Set in a future that is deeply affected by climate change, the narrative unfolds in four parts, each reflecting the rhythms of the elements and the disintegration of the known world. The story centers around Wanda, a young girl born in a Florida hurricane. As the sea levels rise, the storms surge, and the infrastructure collapses, the U.S. government decides to abandon the state, and Wanda’s story evolves into a sweeping tale of survival, resilience, and the challenges of navigating a rapidly changing and often brutal world.
Kelly Barnhill
A speculative fiction novel set in an alternative history of the U.S. during the 1950s, the story revolves around a unique phenomenon known as the “Mass Dragoning of 1955,” where hundreds of thousands of women, burdened by grievances and persecution, spontaneously transform into dragons and fly away, leaving physical and emotional destruction in their wake.
Natalie Haynes
A reimagining of the Trojan War, A Thousand Ships retells the ancient tale from the perspectives of 25 mortal and immortal women. The book gives voice to various women, including goddesses, nymphs, princesses, queens, and slaves, whose lives, loves, and rivalries were deeply affected by the long and tragic war.
Antonio Scurati
The first book in a planned quartet of novels about Benito Mussolini, this epic historical novel delves into the birth and rise of fascism in Italy. The narrative is rich in historical details and interweaves period documents and sources with the author’s creative interpretation of Mussolini’s mind, exploring the seductive power of nationalism and the development of authoritarianism in Italy.
Annie Proulx
A historical fiction novel that begins in the late 17th century, following the lives of two young Frenchmen, René Sel and Charles Duquet, who arrive in New France (Canada). They become woodcutters, known as ‘barkskins’, in exchange for land from a feudal lord. The novel spans over 300 years, tracing the family lineages of Duquet and Sel and exploring their descendants’ lives as they navigate the complexities of survival and identity in a changing world. The story also encompasses the broader theme of deforestation, from the era of European colonization to the contemporary concerns of global warming.
Here are the rest of the books I read (or listened to) this year. They are listed in the order I read them, and I’ve bolded the ones I recommend.
And that’s it: 56 books and 15,181 pages read in 2023.
Despite having written nearly 90,000 words of a new novel (still in progress), developing two hobbies (playing ukulele and drawing zen tangles), working as both a teacher and administrator, cooking the majority of my family’s meals, and watching literally every Celtics game for the first time in as long as I can remember, I still somehow found time to watch over 50 television shows this year.
Some of them I watched with just my pre-teen kiddo. We’d cuddle up on the couch for an hour or so after dinner while my wife did laundry or chatted with her sisters or mother on the phone. Together, the kiddo and I watched newer shows such as One Piece, Sweet Tooth, and Upload, but I also introduced them to some of the older sitcoms, such as Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Good Place, and Superstore. For the record, of that list, the kiddo’s favorite was (officially) The Good Place.
Others I watched with the wife after the kiddo went to bed. We generally try to watch two shows at once: an hour-long drama (or dramedy) with a half-hour “mindless” sitcom to serve as a chaser. What usually happens is that, with the kiddo getting older and staying up later, my wife is too tired to watch an hour-long show after the kid finally stays in bed, so we watch an episode or two of the mindless show (e.g., Schitt’s Creek) and then she calls it a night while I complain about her going to bed too early.
At that point, I usually put on an hour-long fantasy or sci-fi show that my wife would never watch, such as Rings of Power or The Witcher, watch at least one too many episodes, and then follow her upstairs where hopefully my snoring isn’t too bad for the night.
While I (or we) watched over 50 shows this year, not all of those shows were released in 2023. For this list, I’ve limited myself to just this year’s shows, including new seasons from older shows, which means the final season of Succession qualified despite its first season being released in 2018.
Now, from these myriad experiences, ranging from family-friendly tales to blood-curdling violence, came compelling stories, memorable characters, and inspiring worlds. But among these, a few stood out, not just for their captivating storytelling but also for their resonance: something about each of them stuck with me long after the credits had rolled and my TV had moved on to something else.
After much deliberation, I’m excited to share the creme de la creme: the five shows that left an indelible mark on me, the ones that truly defined my viewing experience in 2023.
HBO
(Season 1)
The video game for The Last of Us was released in 2013. It won multiple Game of the Year awards and broke records for sales. Despite being 10 years old, it is still considered one of the best video games of all time.
A lot of that success had to do with the relationship between the player character, a Texas smuggler named Joel, and his charge, a teenage girl named Ellie whom the player is responsible for escorting across the United States. One reviewer called the game “the most riveting, emotionally resonant story-driven epic of this console generation.” Another added, “We’re so invested in the characters that moments of suspense and danger, of which there are many, are given an extra urgency.”
Although I did not play the game myself, HBO’s decision to make The Last of Us their next prestige show struck me as apt. The game’s reputation made it a promising candidate for a high-caliber adaptation.
Like the game itself, the success of the TV show depends on the relationship between its main characters. Joel is played by the Internet’s favorite daddy, Pedro Pascal. A stoic yet cynical survivor barely hanging on after the death of his daughter, Joel resents having to babysit some annoying teenage kid while avoiding the post-apocalyptic horrors of a zombified United States.
Ellie, meanwhile, is played perfectly by Bella Ramsay, who first wowed audiences as Lady Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island on Game of Thrones. Ellie is just as strong-willed as Lady Lyanna but she’s more sensitive and less sure of her place in the world. Despite growing up without a mother or father and spending the entirety of her life in a world where humans are not the apex predator, she maintains a teenager’s sense of humor, develops friendships, and remains open to others, making her a perfect foil for Joel’s wizened ways.
If the television show only had the strength of that relationship going for it, it might still appear on most “best of the year” lists, but the creators of The Last of Us (which includes the original game creator) went further, writing one of the best television episodes anyone has ever seen.
After setting up the series’ world, plot, and relationships in the first two episodes, they chose to depart from their main characters for virtually all of Episode Three, focusing instead on the love story between two minor characters. The only possible comparison for the episode is the first ten minutes of the movie Up, in that both tell a completely heartwarming and heartbreaking tale of true love.
If audiences had come to The Last of Us for the intense, zombie-filled action, they were now sticking around for the profound, character-based drama.
And that’s why it claims the fifth spot on my list.
Netflix
(Season 1)
The Diplomat was surprisingly good. I enjoy Kerri Russell as an actress, but for some reason, I didn’t have high expectations for this one. Probably because I’m such a fan of The West Wing that I expect every other show about government officials to pale in comparison.
The Diplomat is definitely not The West Wing. For one, it does not have the self-righteousness of Aaron Sorkin behind it, nor does it have his hyper-paced, too-witty-by-half method of dialogue writing, nor his genius at developing thematic ties between the A, B, and (sometimes) C plots in each episode.
Instead, it has feminist sensuality and sexuality, realpolitik foreign strategizing, and Tom Clancy-style plotting, with the twists, turns, double-crosses, and personal and political intrigue you’d expect in any spy thriller where the protagonists and antagonists are all sexually attracted to one another.
Kerri Russell absolutely nails this character. She’s a brilliant, self-conscious, self-doubting, self-sabotaging political ingenue who is manipulating and being manipulated by all the men around her. Every episode increases the audience’s interest in her and her story, and the season ends perfectly, providing answers to all the major questions while opening a bunch more for the second season.
I, for one, can’t wait.
Amazon
(Season 1)
Watching this semi-reality series gave me similar feelings to watching the first season of Ted Lasso. In a year during which so much about the world has sucked, Jury Duty was a surprising reminder of goodness.
If you’re not familiar with the show, Jury Duty is a reality series in the vein of The Truman Show. All of the people in the show are actors, except for one, who has no idea he’s on television. He believes he’s serving on a real jury that is being filmed for a documentary on what it’s like to serve on a jury. He has no idea that everyone — the other jurors, the lawyers, the defendant, the judge, the bailiff, everyone — is in on the joke.
What starts as a crazy little conceit becomes an incredible examination of kindness and humanity. The real person they are “pranking” turns out to be way kinder and more tolerant than the producers could have imagined, which makes the show way better than they could have predicted.
The show has been nominated for 19 awards so far, including an Emmy nomination for Outstanding Comedy Series, a Golden Globe nomination for Best Television Series, Musical or Comedy, and an Independent Spirit Award nomination for Best New Scripted Series. It was also the winner of the Television Critics Association Award for Outstanding Achievement in Reality Programming and the American Film Institute’s TV Program of the Year.
I can’t recommend this one enough. Some of the scenes are laugh-out-loud funny, while the final episode, where they reveal all, is so sweet and heartwarming that you’ll tear up from pure joy.
This is such a good show. It’s so good that the audience should rightly boycott any capitalist attempt at Season Two.
Hulu
(Season 2)
S2:E6 of Hulu’s The Bear has gone down in history as “the perfect episode,” and history isn’t wrong. It is a perfect blend of form and content, an overlong depiction of dynamic anxiety, family tensions, mental instability, emotional manipulation, hyper-efficient characterization, and flat-out jaw-dropping performances.
Some have tried to criticize the episode for its stunt casting. If every member of the “stunt” cast hadn’t slayed when it was their time onscreen, then maybe the criticism would hold water. But Jon Bernthal? Killed it. Gillian Jacobs? Assassinated it. John Mulaney? Murdered it. Sarah Paulson? Destroyed it. Jamie Lee Curtis? Massacred it. Bob Odenkirk? Annihilated it.
The episode wasn’t an example of stunt casting; it was an example of perfect casting.
Episode Six, “Fishes,” was of such high quality that if every other episode of The Bear sucked this season, the show might still make my Top 5. But then they followed it with another incredible episode, “Forks,” which was great on its own but also served as the absolutely perfect (and absolutely necessary) chaser to the walking panic attack that was “Fishes.”
Of course, then there was Episode 4, “Honeydew,” when we spent the episode in Copenhagen, learning more about Marcus and his journey to become a master dessert maker with the help of one of Carmy’s friends.
Between those three episodes, The Bear lived up to the expectations created by its amazing first season. The other episodes didn’t approach the greatness of 6, 7, and 4, but they held their own, leaving me excited (and anxious) for the next season.
Apple
(Season 1)
With Harrison Ford, Jason Segel, Jessica Williams, Christa Miller, Ted McGinley, Lukita Maxwell, and Luke Tennie all playing their roles perfectly, and the writing room firing on all cylinders for each episode, there is simply not a bad or boring moment in the first season of Apple TV+’s Shrinking.
The premise is solid: a grieving, widower therapist (Jason Segel), after living the last year very selfishly, starts telling his patients exactly what they need to do in their lives.
But the joy of the show is in the way the characters talk to one another. Segel’s teenage daughter relates to everyone in a properly precocious way. His new patient/friend, a veteran with PTSD, becomes his tenant and establishes a cozy relationship with his daughter, putting her in her place while also respecting her for the young woman she’s becoming. While Segel’s character became selfish and nihilistic in the wake of his wife’s death, his neighbor took over parenting his daughter, judging him at each step, while her husband supports her and everyone else in all the best ways. Meanwhile, Segal’s mentor (Harrison Ford) struggles with Parkinson’s Disease and being an emotionally unattached boomer, while his colleague (Jessica Williams) struggles with being incredible around all these hurting white men.
If you haven’t seen it, watch the clip below. Each line is a surprise, and the scene just keeps getting better and better with each new bit of dialogue.
I’m naming this one my favorite show of the year for all the reasons above, plus the fact that it has Jason Segel. I’m such a huge fan of this guy — from Freaks & Geeks to Undeclared to The End of the Tour to Forgetting Sarah Marshall to The Muppets to How I Met Your Mother, not to mention Jeff, Who Lives At Home — that to see him do well in a show he stars in, created, and writes for just makes me happy.
But more importantly, this show stuck out because of the simplicity of its story. In a year when so many shows were high concept, shows such as Rings of Power, The Witcher, Silo, Ahsoka, Secret Invasion, and Mrs. Davis, it was refreshing to watch a high-quality show about a group of realistic characters, all of whom struggle with humble but serious issues: a dead wife and mother, retirement, disease, long-term relationships, and love. It’s hilarious, poignant, and relatable, and each episode hits on all cylinders. Simply put, it was the best show of the year.
Each series in my Top Five this year brought something unique to the table, whether it was the emotional depth and stunning visuals of fantasy epics, the laugh-out-loud moments in family comedies, or the poignant storytelling in character-driven dramas. These shows not only entertained but also challenged and moved me, providing a rich tapestry of experiences that resonated with my family and me in different yet profound ways.
As we look forward to another year of exceptional TV, these shows will remain benchmarks of excellence, creativity, and the possibilities of what can be achieved on the small screen.
During the pandemic, they were called ‘essential workers.’ Now they’ve been discovered to hold the key to power… But these Americans won’t benefit from their new status as essential voters until the parties spend less effort coming up with what they think the working class wants to hear, and more effort actually delivering what it wants and needs.
An economy that gives most people the chance for a decent life doesn’t arise by accident or through impersonal forces. It has to be created [through] political action, such as union organizing, that gives power to the have-nots; a civic ethos that restrains the greed of the haves; and public spending on people, infrastructure, and ideas…
— What Does the Working Class Really Want?, The Atlantic
According to Apple Music, I listened to 49,181 minutes of music this year. That accounts for 4,873 songs across 420 albums by 1,376 different artists. Most of those albums were not recorded in 2023 — 840 minutes of my listening time, for example, came from Django Reinhardt, who, while being one of the greatest guitar players of all time, has also been dead since 1953.
That said, out of the 1,525 songs I added to my music library this year (as of Dec. 5, 2023, anyway), 421 of them, spread across 43 different albums, were released in 2023. The Apple-Music-defined genres of those albums included Alternative, Contemporary Blues, Country, Funk, Fusion, Indie Rock, Instrumental, Jazz, Metal, Pop, Psychedelic, Rock, and Singer-Songwriter.
It is an eclectic group that does not include some of the year’s most celebrated albums but does include popular artists such as Miley Cyrus, Wilco, and Feist, as well as niche artists such as Bill Orcutt and the Whatitdo Archive Group.
Without further adieu, I present my Top 5 Albums of 2023.
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard (KGLW) are perennials on this list, not only because they seem to release at least two albums per year, but because every album they release is incredible.
The band never fails to surprise me. When discussing them with friends, I often compare KGLW to Ween. KGLW is a thousand times more talented than Ween, but they have Ween’s ability to adopt the stylings of virtually any genre. Where Ween switched it up song by song, KGLW does it album by album.
This year, KGLW released PetroDragonic Apocalypse…, which is as about as heavy a metal as I’m able to stomach (or as they described it on Twitter, “heavy as fuck”). They also released The Silver Cord, which they created entirely on synthesizers. Petrodragonic Apocalypse… appears on this list because it came out first (I’ve had longer to listen to and love it) but you won’t go wrong listening to The Silver Cord instead.
Petrodragonic Apocalypse…continues the thrashing exploration KGLW started with 2019’s Infest the Rat’s Nest, except where the older album rages at the realities of the world (“There is no planet B,” they scream on the opening track, only to follow it with lower-class rage at a “red mars for the rich” and fear at a “superbug”), the newer album attempts a more mythic theme, a kind of this is what will happen if…
The suite of songs opens with a summoning of the “Motor Spirit” — “Summon forth thy motor spirit, drink the fuckin’ gas and killeth! Light the fuel, propagate oxygen and heat, deify motor spirit, kiss goodbye the weak!” — and goes on to explore the apocalypse soon to be delivered unto us by the continuous burning of fossil fuels and the rise and convergence of supercell storms — “the elements rage in wild excess” — until the people reject the modern world and turn back to witchcraft, performing an unholy ritual to unleash “a reptile thinking in terms of only a lizard brain.”
“Anon, a giant monster roams,” KGLW sings in “Gila Monster,” “I am gila, blood spiller, witch killer….growing immensely and vastly in size.” The monster promises to bring “annihilation of planet earth and the beginning of merciless damnation.”
This brings us to the song “Dragon,” where the monster’s “petrodragonic apocalypse” is unleashed upon terra firma. The humans scramble jets and launch ballistics to fight the dragon, but it’s no use: “pilots shriek, cities weep,” as the monster lays humanity to waste, “killing all in its path…until the dragon stands triumphantly high-lone.”
The music that accompanies this dark fantasy matches the vibe of the lyrics: dark, fast, and monstrous. The band gives it everything they have. Guitars scream. The drum beats mercilessly fast. The lyrics are belted from deep in the throat.
I am not now nor have I ever been a metalhead. But this album kicks ass.
My brother introduced me to Todd Snider about six or seven years ago. He sent me a video of a dude on a small stage with an acoustic guitar. The video was about ten minutes long. Most of it was the dude telling the story of how he came to write that particular song, and it was freakin’ hilarious. The dude combines incredible charisma with a laid-back, stoner attitude, and he delivers every punchline in the story with perfect timing.
But the best part was the song the story led up to. The music was simple. He’s a folk singer who knows his strengths aren’t on the guitar, and he doesn’t pretend otherwise (though he is sneaky good, make no mistake). So instead of trying to wow you on the fretboard, he wows you with his words.
The song he eventually sang, “If Tomorrow Never Comes,” is a non-stop, fast-sung plea to live a life of joy and harmony, to hell with what the Lord might want you to do.
“Any kind of heaven everybody doesn’t get in / won’t seem like heaven to me. / Well, they tell you that the Garden of Eden was perfect, but you couldn’t even eat off the apple tree. / And for heaven’s sake / you had to watch that snake / lying to your woman / constantly. / Adam must have scratched his head, looked up and said / ‘Lord, eh…this isn’t doing it for me.'”
I loved it, and I needed more. So for the next several weeks, I dug into the nearly thirty years of Todd Snider’s catalog. How had I never heard this guy before?! He was like Jimmy Buffett, if Buffett was a couch-surfing, stoner hobo instead of a wave-surfing, pirate billionaire. He was Nashville if Tennesee were a blue state.
His newest album, Crank It, We’re Doomed, is actually an old album. He recorded it in 2007 and then decided to shelve it. As he posted on Facebook:
“I felt like not only did I have all these story songs, sort of normal songs, there also were all these protest songs. And really that is where I lost the plot. I had too many scenes in the movie, and I had too many songs. It was all over the map. But I also remember feeling like it wasn’t done either. Like it needed more songs.”
Nearly twenty years later, with his health deteriorating and his body wracked with pain, he’s decided the album catches him in the prime of his playing and needs to be heard.
It’s a solid collection that contains studio versions of songs he’s played live since first recording them, including “America’s Favorite Pastime” (which is about the day in 1970 when Dock Ellis pitched a no-hitter for the Pittsburgh Pirates while tripping on LSD) and “West Nashville Ballroom Gown” (a cover of an early Jimmy Buffett song).
But my favorite song is one I hadn’t heard before: “Handleman’s Revenge.” It’s a series of rocking complaints from a middle-aged man:
The father finally loses it when a kid at a drive-thru window asks if that will be everything. The dad couldn’t handle the question and nearly jerked the kid through the window in response.
As he sings in the chorus, “I’m stuck on the corner of sanity and madness. I’m looking them over. I can’t see a difference.”
If you enjoy folk singers who have been influenced by early Bob Dylan, the best of Jimmy Buffett, and the Nashville outlaws, and then added a 21st-century left-wing common-man sensibility atop of it, then you’ll love Todd Snider.
The Circling Sun is a New Zealand super-group comprised of jazz musicians, DJs, and producers who have, apparently, been wowing audiences in Auckland for nearly twenty years. The sound they make is Afro-and Latin-infused big band music, with heavy brass, trilling woodwinds, enlivening piano and keyboards, and a rhythm section that doesn’t quit.
Every song on Spirits delivers, which is why I’ve been proselytizing for these folks everywhere I go. It’s the kind of music that rewards deep listening but is perfect for background ambiance too. I listen to it when I’m cooking, writing, reading, and working on the computer.
My favorite tune on the album is “Bliss,” a five-minute demonstration of musical brilliance improvised atop a repetitive theme, with the rhythm players going nuts, piano solos that take you up and down the keys, and a saxophone that comes in the end and just wows ya.
I recently began digging into Alice Coltrane’s music, and The Circling Sun seems to fit right into her line of exploration. They both create similar atmospherics in their songs, using harps, woodwinds, keyboards, etc., but the Circling Sun’s Afro-Latin rhythms add a lot more fun to their version. Coltrane’s music (or at least, what I’ve heard of it so far) seems to come from a deeply religious place, and I don’t get that sense with The Circling Sun.
But what do I know? They named their album Spirits after all.
In “Masterpiece,” the final song of Grace Potter’s newest album, she provides a short autobiography of how she became who she is. Here’s the Cliffs Notes
Somewhere in the middle of the seventh grade / I realized everyone my age was an asshole…
I was the long lost kid in the middle / of the long lost American dream/ so I picked up my paintbrush and started on my masterpiece…
In my klepto phase / I stole my way across the deep blue sea / went looking for my dignity / stamp my passport / if you please…
He was wearing eyeliner, had a funny name … and he made me a woman / in the middle of the ocean…
I had a brand new head on my shoulders / and a nice pair of little titties / I said goodbye to the virgin and hello to my masterpiece…”
For the sake’a my story, I’m gonna skip ahead / past the part about the Grateful Dead / Straight to Booker T / (don’t forget the MGs) / I danced holes through my wooly socks / I felt a funny little tickle / ’cause I had pop rocks / in my pussy….”
Now I don’t shoplift and I don’t blackout / I have a handle and I have a spout / I’m a grownup / yeah, yeah, yeah / But I’m still painting and fucking and climbing trees / and dancing with my devils and my darling beasts / and every single ugly part of me / is just a color in the pallette of my ever-lovin’ never-done’in vagabond masterpiece!”
The story is accompanied by a repetitive rocking piano, laid-back yet dramatic drums, backing singers, the sprinkling of guitars adding emotional catharsis, until finally, we hit the bridge and it all comes to a screaming head before settling back into the verses. Great stuff.
I just love this tune.
The whole album is fun. My wife thinks a couple of the songs are on the corny side (“Lady Vagabond” especially), but I’m a sucker for Grace Potter, and what my wife calls corny feels to me like a musician playing with genres — “Lady Vagabond,” for example, plays with cowboy-movie tropes in a way that reminds me of Jon Bon Jovi’s “Blaze of Glory“. As you’ll see in what I chose for my #1 Album of the Year, I’m a fan of musicians exploring the possibilities of genres.
Mother Road is nearly a concept album focused on the lifelong voyage of a woman whose livelihood is tied to the highways and byways of America, an artist who is as familiar with hotel rooms as she is with the wide-open sky of craters and canyons, where the people in her life include truck stop angels, little hitchhikers, and all of her ghosts “tripping on LSD and sniffin’ glue.”
I’ve listened to this album while riding the straight lanes of the Interstate and hugging the night-time curves on rural dirt roads in Vermont. It’s the perfect soundtrack for a life on the move.
I don’t even know where to begin with these guys.
First, they’re from Reno, Nevada. Second, they seem to be driven by three individuals, but they recruit some of the finest jazz musicians in the region to help them realize their visions.
Here’s how this album’s sound is described by one magazine: “mid-century exotica and library music—from the Tropicalia-steeped Amazon to the minor key tonalities of the far-out Near East.”
Their record label, meanwhile, describes them as a “recording collective [that] focuses solely on curating, performing and preserving esoteric soundtrack, library, and deep-groove collections.”
On their second LP, Palace of a Thousand Sounds, the collective, comprised of the three composers and over 20 musicians, leads the listener through a tour of the palace, creating a deep exotica-infused album using vibraphones, pedal harps, minor key grooves, ’70s Spanish Gypsy Rock, violins, Ethiopian-influenced brass, classical guitars, flute, Turkish baglama saz, eastern psych rock, grand pianos, and the recreation of a misheard found-melody as played one afternoon by a street musician near the recording studio.
(For the record, I’ve taken that list from an article where one of the main composers discusses the album track by track)
It is an album that rewards repeat listening. The songs are familiar sounding without being familiar. You’ve heard their like in your dreams, snatches of non-existent songs your brain meshed together from our culture’s collective memory of the soundtracks of imaginary 1970s movies set in the Middle East and Northern Africa.
You’ll hear it and think, “Oh, this is from Tarantino’s next movie.”
It’s an album you didn’t know you needed, but you very much do.