After the musical feasts of the years before, 2023 was a time of retrenchment. My top 5 streamed artists were led by the 3 Bs: Bruce, Bob, and The Beatles. (Of course I listened to a lot of Bruce—I made a pilgrimage up to New Jersey this year!) I chewed on the two releases by the National enough for them to make the cut, but a couple of new records really kept my attention.
The Willard Hotel, Washington, D.C., Polaroid SX-70 (July 2023)
MAYBE I’LL LISTEN TO IT JUST ONE MORE TIME—a tie between . . .
BETHANY COSENTINO, Natural Disaster
I warmed up to this catchy and melodic album in a way I never did Best Coast, which I kind of missed. It was the cozy familiarity to the lyrics which kept me coming back again and again, like having a conversation with an old pal. In “Natural Disaster” she spills “And there’s a girl with a cigarette in her mouth / she’s on the phone, I can tell she’s from the South / she’s walking backwards, wants to be an actor / why am I listening?” I wanted to know what was going to happen next.
HOME FRONT, Games of Power
When I first heard the anthemic keyboard riff of “OverTime,” I almost couldn’t believe it—I thought it might be old, like ‘83, the electric feeling of learning something you didn’t know, but then there was a funny angular component and I couldn’t figure out what type of music it was, and figured it was new—then gave up trying to decode it and turned to immediately learning the lyrics so I could sing along. Synthpop? Darkwave? Joy Division if they were fun? It doesn’t matter, because Home Front make music that feels urgent and meaningful and timeless.
PUNCH THE AIR? PUNCH THE AIR!!
Spotify says I streamed music a mere 30,887 minutes last year—only 514 hours! What else was I doing that was more important?? (Hopefully listening to records or metal on Bandcamp).
And a good chunk of that was jamming “Nothin’ But a Heartache” by the Pointer Sisters, which if you haven’t heard recently (or ever!), you should go listen to right now. A pretty faithful cover of the Doobie Brothers original, there’s such a soulful and beautiful sincerity present that I wanted to write scenes to it, did write scenes to it, the lead cloaked in darkness as she walked out of the restaurant, the warm glow behind her, determined not to lose it, determined to endure.
But when she gets in the Firebird and mashes the pedal down, it’s “Since You Been Gone” by Rainbow that begins to blare. I know a lot about classic rock—I’m from Alabama—and I’m a big Dio fan and adore Rainbow in the Dark. But I had never heard this song until I watched a trailer for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, and now it’s in my permanent 70s pantheon.
After it fades, “Hollywood Baby” by 100 Gecs begins to blare, a post-postmodern “Teenage Dirtbag” (is it the same song? It might be), skittering into “Broken Little Boys” by F*cked Up, abandoning their album-length movements about dragons and knights to rip open the moldy rotten casserole of toxic masculinity. “It's constantly reinforced /From toys to sports . . . Never chose this identity / It was foisted on to me,” a masterclass in philosophy that just happens to have killer guitar riffs, echoing Propagandhi’s “Refusing to Be a Man” from ‘96: But don’t tell me this is natural.
Malaco Studies, Jackson, Mississippi, in the months before the tornado, Polaroid 600 with original film (2010)
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!
What if you made a piece of art so spectacular—like a box of fireworks catching fire accidentally on a summer night, spitting and hissing into the atmosphere—that people remembered the lights shooting across the sky forever? That’s what happened to Jean Knight one day in 1970 in Jackson, Mississippi. That’s when she stood in a building on Northside Drive and shook out a piece of magic they called “Mr. Big Stuff.”
Here she is on Soul Train with the recorded track playing. That incredible stuttering riff at the beginning sounds like the record is skipping! I can’t get over the groove of it all, big and bouncy like a rubber ball, anchored by her pitch-perfect vocal. The universe in less than three minutes.
The New Orleans native passed away last year, at age 80. As someone who lives in Jackson, I just wanted to say thank you for giving us something spectacular, for a jewel to wear on our shoulder.1
EATIN’ CAVIAR AND DIRT
This summer I went looking for one of my favorite artists, Bruce Springsteen, traveling through Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Here’s an outtake portrait of his old haunt on the Jersey Shore!
Asbury Park, NJ, Polaroid 600 (2023)
And here’s the story!
A LOVELY HUSH FALLS WITH THE RAIN ACROSS MEMPHIS
I only got to see one concert this year, but its beauty and intricacy and artistry continue to sustain. On a night when tornadoes skittered through Tennessee and Mississippi, we skipped across puddles into the Germantown Arts Center to see Anthony Wilson. The incredible jazz guitarist was playing with a quartet that night, revealing songs composed about his grandfather’s journeys across Mississippi, a yet-unreleased album called The Knowledge Tree.
Dense, beautiful, as intricate as the nest of a robin. I admire Anthony’s photography as much as his music and stayed around afterwards to say hello, as he graciously visited with everyone who wished to talk. A gem of a person and a night.
Leland, Mississippi, Polaroid 600 (2023)
HEAVY METAL WILL NEVER DIE
The greatest way you can support an artist is to put your money behind her work—whether album, t-shirt, or patch. Bandcamp is still the quickest way to do that; despite various changes at the company its Bandcamp Fridays (where the platform takes zero cut from purchase) provide you with a direct economic link to the musicians who create our experiences.
Most of the new art I support is metal—that’s what gets a hold of me—with some exceptions (like my records of the year!). And last year might have been the first where I wasn’t buying cassettes, but only digital copies. Here’s what shook my speakers in 2023!
Lamp of Murmuur, Saturnian Bloodstorm
Spirit Possession, Of the Sign …
Anarchÿ, Sentïence
Holy Vision, “Sinking”
Smoulder, Violent Creed of Vengeance
Home Front, Games of Power
Home Front, Think of the Lie EP
Lunar Chamber, Shambhallic Vibrations (probably my EP of the year)
Olde Throne, In the Land of Ghosts
Anareta, Fear Not
Power Trip, Live in Seattle
Anthony Wilson, digital discography bundle on a BC Friday
Anthony Wilson, Collodion
Naitaka, Emergence
Naitaka, s/t
Wolves in the Throne Room, Malevolent Grain
WITTR, Two Hunters
WITTR, Black Cascade
WITTR, Crypt of Ancestral Knowledge
Blackbraid, Blackbraid I
Maȟpíya Lúta, Wowahwala
Anarchÿ, Retching Necropolis
Borrowed Man, s/t
Sierra On-line, Glass Shutters
BIZCAS10: Ten Years of Business Casual Records, 2013-2023
Vaporwave Up and Comers ‘23
Bethany Cosentino, Natural Disaster
Krallice, s/t
Krallice, Orphan of Sickness
Krallice, Porous Resonance Abyss
Cirith Ungol, Dark Parade
Worm, Foreverglade
Worm, Starpath
Sleater-Kinney, Dig Me Out (digital copy)
S-K, Call the Doctor (digital copy)
Closet Witch, Complete Discography
Closet Witch, Chiaroscuro
“IF YOU KNOW WHERE TO LOOK”
In August I wrote about B.B. King, Duane Allman, and The King—and the mementoes and places that still echo their time on this world.
ALRIGHT PALS it’s time to sign off—I want to go listen to the new Olde Throne split and maybe some Bruce boots from ‘78!—so please check out this playlist of notable jams from ‘23 below. If you’ve enjoyed this, press these links for my ‘22 round-up and 2021 as well!
“IMAGINE IF EVERYONE KNEW THE TRUTH” is a chapter of GORJUS, a dispatch devoted to art and life in the South, held fast with instant film. If you liked what you saw and read, if you maybe felt a twang in your belly while you looked it over, then this is for you, and I reckon we would be friends. Consider sending this letter to a pal who is like us. I’m gorjusjxn on Instagram, and you can see an archive of Polaroids at McCartyPolaroids.
That same day at Malaco they recorded another stunner, “Groove Me” by King Floyd, which has the same richly elastic bass guitar and complex rhythm.