One day at the end of a year, hands shaking because I was so cold, I walked past Debbie Harry. I was on the boardwalk of a little seaside town in New Jersey, trying to get ahold of a fortune teller on the phone.
Asbury Park, Polaroid Land Camera with Fuji FP-100c film (2016)
Do you want to know what Debbie Harry looks like walking down the boardwalk in the winter, while the waves crash on the cold beach beyond? She looks like God, is what she looks like.
In order of emotional and long term impact, here’s moments of music that affected me in 2020 (all albums and songs released this year unless specified):
Waxahatchee, Saint Cloud. In September I wrote of being “struck with the wonderful realization that this will be an album that I carry with me the rest of my days,” this incredible record filled with “brighter dawns; hope, and beauty.”
Evil Beat 2, Dallas, Texas. In January I loaded up with my buddy Wes to meet our pal Chaney—and watch a full day’s worth of metal. The draw for me was seeing British legends Carcass, finally seeing our beloved thrash monsters Power Trip, the gorgeously obliterating deafheaven, and our rock and roll fave, Sheer Mag. But there was so much more—with the most fun being Canadian stalwarts Razor and thrash royalty Vio-lence. (We missed Special Interest, which I’ll kick myself over forever.)
On the weekend Neil Peart passed away, we jammed hours of live Rush videos, snarfed down buckets of vegan tacos, and watched Riley Gale leap into the air. We didn’t know it was the last time. It was magnificent. I dearly crave a return to live music in 2021, but the glories of Evil Beat 2 sustained me a whole year. (And on the way home, Wes and I went to the place Bonnie & Clyde were ambushed).
Jerry Lee Lewis’ piano bench, Mississippi, Polaroid Land Camera with Fuji FP3000-B (2017)
deafheaven, 10 Years Gone. Anything these artists make I want to hear, and after their transcendent, shattering set in Dallas I hoped to see them again in ‘20. With their tour scratched off the books, they release this soaring double “live” album. It works as a greatest hits, a modern Alive!, and listening to these waves of glimmering noise comforted me this winter.
Bandcamp Fridays. The artist-and-label friendly website doesn’t take a cut one special day a month—allowing fans to plan their purchases, and music sellers to highlight new singles, merch, or limited time releases. For the better part of the year I’d wishlist records and then wake up on the designated Friday and go hog wild. I learned a ton about new music and it kept me mindful that the convenience of streaming services—while great for the consumer—don’t generate any noteworthy income for artists. This was a great way to stay connected to supporting music.
Nana’s bedroom, Forestdale, Alabama, Polaroid 600 (2019)
Pillow Queens, In Waiting. Just hit play—like right now, pls—it sounds like college and driving around and longing and love and what happens after.
Transylvanian Recordings (née Tapes). Early in the pandemic I would use Bandcamp’s great iOS app to wander around the vast metal wastelands. I learned you could see the site’s best selling metal, narrowed down to what was selling on cassette. That’s when I stumbled into the vast, powerful, and (incredibly) free catalog of Transylvanian Recordings. From old school death metal like Evulse to heavy doom of Swamp Witch, all the way over to the dark ambient of Pastoral or sludge of Sky Pig and folk-tinged black metal of Exulansis, this label is my favorite going.
In the same way Profound Lore reshaped what I understood metal could be, Transylvanian strengthens what I hope metal can be—rich, varied, challenging, and more than anything, fun. I’m a member of the fan club of the label, which means the normally $6.66 cassettes are a buck off, and anything that comes out I buy automatically. Every time it’s a blast.
Joshua Tree, Polaroid SX-70 (2016)
Phoebe Bridgers, “Kyoto.” Much of Punisher is too contemplative for me right now, but I returned to this lovely, thoughtful song throughout 2020.
Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit, “Be Afraid” and “It Gets Easier.” Two modern anthems that carried me on car trips throughout the South. For the better part of twenty years Jason’s music has spoken to me more deeply than I knew possible. When it hits—like his “Alabama Pines” from Here We Rest—the songs are just there inside me, like I’ve known them since childhood.
Taylor Swift, “exile (feat. Bon Iver)” and “betty.” While the rest of folklore didn’t move me, I loved the pop perfection of “exile,” and “betty” is a story song, and I love a story song.
Best Coast, “For the First Time.” A beautiful song about becoming yourself, again. Which is to say, the perfect song for 2020.
The Weeknd, “Blinding Lights.” I had never heard this song until the summer, when I was playing a lot of Fortnite, and you could get a car and change the radio station. This anthem was playing as I drove a car through an imaginary battleplanet at sunset and was the best possible song I could have ever heard, and actually made for an incredible experience in the game. I didn’t know it was an actual song, I thought it was just a thing in a video game! Then I heard it on the “real” radio in a real car, and looked it up, and was startled to see I liked it along with possibly several hundred million other people.
Jackson, Mississippi, Polaroid SX-70 (2016) (now a motorcycle club)
El Obo, “The General King (And I).” I love Jesse’s yearning vocals on this song, and its lush, gorgeously ornate instrumentation. As someone who isn’t a musician, but loves music, it’s also revealing to know that he worked on these songs for years—like sculptures, or maybe complex mobiles crafted from colorful bits of glass. We even did the Polaroids for the cover back in 2019. You can still order Reach Into the Dark and Pull it Closer from Favorite Gentlemen.
Lamp of Murmuur, “Heir of Ecliptical Romanticism.” From one of the biggest debuts of the year in black metal. While I’m still wading through the catalog, I’m sold on this epic. The Lamp’s dungeon synth ability, necro production, and ability to just craft a riff combine into an unforgettable six minutes.
Cirith Ungol, Forever Black and back catalog. I had never heard these titans until watching an episode of Sarah Kitteringham’s Cassette Cult (RIP) where she situated them into the 80s metal canon. I was immediately entranced by the fist-in-the-air vocals, shredding solos, and fantasy cover art. Outside of Waxahatchee and the Beatles, this was the band I probably listened to most in 2020.
Soulcaster, Maelstrom of Death and Steel. Anthemic heavy metal with blistering solos that would’ve rung my bell in 1990 or 2020.
Vaporwave as a comforting concept. In April I read an article about a documentary about vaporwave—which at its best sounds like dashboard-melted cassettes playing in a dead mall. Cut up from 80s advertising jingles and the pre-choruses of sax-soaked pop songs, some vapor artists offer up their whole catalogs for free or for a dollar or three. I listened to the compilation from Nobody Here quite a lot, along with a lot of TVVIN_PINEZ_M4LL. My natural inclination is to try to absorb a discography and “learn” an artist—but that proved to be impossible with vaporwave, where artists might release dizzying numbers of songs or albums in just a couple of weeks. Instead I’ve learned to just experience it like I would a tv show growing up—enjoy it once, maybe talk about it at school the next day, and then it disappears forever.
Metal cassette labels and cassette-focused artists. Transylvanian Recordings is my go to, but I also really enjoyed following releases from Tridroid Records and Realm & Ritual this year. The last few releases from Tridroid were in my stereo all year—especially Feminazgul, Uprising, and Ferus Din. Some R&R packages would come with a handmade candle and Altar of Necropolis by Orcus came with a map of a castle and its dungeon! The variety of art and dedication to a very singular personal vision made an impact on me as a listener and an artist.
Emma Swift, Blonde on the Tracks. The beautiful all-Dylan cover album you didn’t know you needed to hear. My goal in 2021 is to listen to Emma’s slightly exhausted, yearning version of “Queen Jane Approximately” while driving through the Texas desert. Produced and played on by Pat Sansone, who is also one of my favorite Polaroid artists.
Favorite Elvis album in 2020. The sprawling That’s the Way It Is took the crown this year, as I loved the way the King handled a wonderful batch of stellar songs and re-established himself as a stage presence.
‘55 Chevy, Mississippi, Polaroid 600 (2016). Wasn’t sure what to do with this limited edition film at the time, but kind of love it right now.
And for number 20, songs that were new to me that I’ll listen to forever. What a wonderful feeling to discover a four minute patch of time you want to stretch into hours. Of course I had heard Linda Ronstadt before, but in late 2019 Pitchfork reviewed her 1974 classic Heart like a Wheel. I listened to it and liked it but kept returning, over and over, to “Willin.’” I’ve never “driven a back road so I wouldn’t get weighed,” but I yearn for the road, and such a wonderful anthem spoke to me more than anything last year . . . Billy “The Kid” Emerson’s “Little Fine Healthy Thing” is a jam supreme that should be as legendary as anything by his Sun labelmates . . . I played “Tallahatchie” by Jimbo Mathus just about anytime I crossed a river or got close to crossing one . . . the catchy goth rock catalog of Idle Hands (now Unto Others) got played a lot, especially “Jackie” . . . and the great Louisiana-born painter Byron Sonnier turned me onto the Cajun heartbreaker “Un Autre Soir D’ennui” by Belton Richard.
AS ALWAYS I am gorjusjxn on Instagram (although I’m taking a break in January so I can catch up on scanning a few hundred Polaroids) and you can see more of my photography at McCartyPolaroids. Drop me a line and let me know what you listened to this year!
This year I continued my habit of championing single tracks and making my own mixtapes over full albums. If there was one band or artist that I would prop up as my standout from 2020, it would have to be Drive-By Truckers. Two short albums (18 songs over the 2 albums) that may have been a single album if this were 20 years ago. This aspect of releasing two albums, The New OK & The Unraveling, within the same year was fitting given the mood and immediacy of the songs. Dealing heavily with the trump presidency and the political unrest, Patterson Hood and Mike Cooley address current events with insight and wit.
Some of my favorites
on The New OK
"The New OK"
"The Perilous Night"
"Sea Island Lonely"
on The Unraveling
"Armageddon's Back in Town"
"Thoughts and Prayers"
"21st Century USA"
I also loved Sturgill Simpsons "Cuttin' Grass Vol. 1 & 2" which were basically bluegrass covers of his own songs.
And I listened to quite a bit of Roots Reggae radio this year. Always seems to hit the spot and put me in a good mood and take my mind off of things.
So, some other tracks that I had on repeat. (from great albums for the most part)
Chris Stapleton- "Watch You Burn"
Jason Isbell- "Dreamsicle"
Money Man (feat. Lil Baby) "24"
DaBaby- "Peephole"
Lil Baby- "Low Down"
6LACK- "Float"
Ashley McBryde "One Night Standards"
Jeezy (feat. Tamika Mallory)- "Oh Lord"
Jaguar Dreams- "Dreams"
Post Malone- "Internet"
The Abyssinian Baptist Choir "Said I Wasn't Gonna Tell Nobody"
Sauti Sol- "Suzanna"
Kommanda Obbs- "Mabelebele"
The Swallows' "It Ain't The Meat"
Allman Brothers Band "Little Martha (Live at the The Beacon Theatre)"
Bedouine, Waxahatchee, and Hurray for the Riff Raff- "Thirteen"
Waffle House Records- "There are Raisins in My Toast"
Goodie Mob' "My People"
Katie Pruitt- "Expectations"
And I've mostly been listening to Christmas music since the day after Thanksgiving. My two year old ask to hear the Bruce Springsteen version of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" about 10 times a day.
Some of my favorite holiday songs this year
George Jones- "My Mom and Santa Claus"
Loretta Lynn- "To Heck With Ole Santa Claus"
Kacey Musgraves- "Ribbons and Bows"
Booker T. & The M.G.'s- "Jingle Bells"
Randy Travis- "Meet Me Under the Mistletoe"
James Brown- "Santa Claus Go Straight To The Ghetto"
Spotify Playlists I loved
Afro Surf Vol 2 by Mami Wata Surf
The Birth of Rhythm & Blues by Spotify
and while we're talking about music, CNN films just released "Jimmy Carter: Rock and Roll President" and it is phenomenal.
https://www.cnn.com/videos/us/2020/12/31/jimmy-carter-rock-and-roll-president-cnn-film.cnn
-Jack Deese
What I listened to this year...
Music has been in a trough and I was about to give up, but new punk came along to restore my faith. Thank you lord for Fontaine’s DC and the Mysterines.
2020 was the year when I began to appreciate jazz, which is some kind of milestone I’m sure. Just easing myself in but so far I’m enjoying Chet Baker, Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker. Jazz provided a good accompaniment for my re visiting of ‘On the Road’.
The Velvets are the standing feature in my life and this year their music felt very close and real because I read VU and Warhol’s diaries again, I worked through an Eddie Sedgwick biography too and I stepped into the Plastic Exploding Inevitable (the recreation of it at the Tate). Reading along made the whole scene seemed very personal, like I know these people (but maybe glad I didn’t). It’s been my year for immersive music, and thinking about my cultural influences, making the connections, looking back on the 20th century and feeling out of step with the present.
The Iggy Confidential show on BBC Radio 6 has been great. If I listen at night I hold the iPad close to my ear, it’s like being a teenager again listening to John Peel on a transistor radio. I actually like to hear music low fi and I like needing to listen hard to the make out the words. Iggy played a recent recording by Shirley Collins now in her eighties.
‘Where the ice goes
I go
Locked in ice half a hundred years’
Iggy wasn’t listening as carefully as me , he didn’t realise that the song is the voice of the little ghost ship. But that’s allowed Iggy, you do a great job - thank you for the show.
I finished my year listening to the Beatles. The Beatles were the soundtrack of my young childhood in Northern England. For me Penny Lane was the lane we took to the swimming pool and Strawberry Fields were the playing fields to one side. I found them both on Google maps recently, the while I know full well that the modern reality will never match my memory - I can’t resist looking. As the old year passed away George’s, ‘Here comes the sun’ was my soundtrack for going forward, bruised and cautious but hopeful that things will be alright. Things will be alright.