Withered Hand, Kathryn Williams – ‘Wish’ (from ‘Willson Williams’ LP)

Another record where the sum of the parts is even greater than what one might have expected the whole to be. In isolation both Kathryn Williams and Withered Hand have made records that have held me enthralled and with ‘Wish’ they manage that and then some. These are songs of exquisite aches, of grown-up anxieties shot through with teenage growing pains. If that sounds horrifically emo, it should be stressed that the songs and the sound here is tempered by a deep seated and often celebratory love of folk structures. Americana touched with an Alba anguish. Top notch.

The WAEVE – ‘You Saw’ (from ‘City Lights’ LP)

With their second LP The WAEVE have honed their sound such that the angles are just that little more admirably awkward without feeling forced out of joint, the motorik melancholia just that shade darker and richly textured. It’s still the tracks that put Rose Elinor’s vocals front and centre that appeal the most for me, but the interplay with Graham Coxon’s makes for a splendid confection of bittersweet early ‘80s electropop dystopian dreams. The future is the present, the past forever embedded in our psyche.

Sofie Royer – ‘I Forget (I’m So Young)’ (from ‘Young-Girl Forever’ LP)

I am not entirely certain that people believe me when I say that I am not being pejorative when I say that most contemporary Popular music does nothing for me (on the vanishingly rare occasions when I actually hear it). This is, perhaps, as it ought to be, after all. And whilst I am not entirely certain that Sofi Royer can be classed as Popular, she does most assuredly make Pop and is therefore perhaps the exception to the rule. An element of Music As Performance Art that lends ‘Young-Girl Forever’ the edge, although that might just be me projecting my own needs and justifications. Regardless, the songs here are dramatic, euphoric, melancholic gems that feel infused with the spirit of Ze. Smart but never too smug, elegant but never superior, ‘Young-Girl Forever’ is the Pop record of the year.

Molly Nilsson – ‘Jackboots Return’ (from ‘Un-American Activities’ LP)

Molly Nilsson may have bucked her own trend with an album sleeved in something other than a geometric black and white design but the trademark gritty goth electro pop of the music remains darkly, delightfully intact. It’s hard to make art that addresses ‘issues’ without succumbing to simplistic abuse or vapid platitudes, but this has always been one of Nilsson’s many strengths. It’s displayed to great effect several times on ‘Un-American Activities’, and whilst it would be easy to hang heavy on hand wringing and despair, Nilsson strikes a balance with humour and elegant poise. Still classy.

Jill Lorean – ‘Rainmaker’ (from ‘Peace Cult’ LP)

Listening to ‘Peace Cult’ one gets the impression that there’s anger in Jill Lorean. Not the kind that burns everything down, but an anger that is controlled, focused. The kind of anger that builds, sharpens, becomes a tool. On ‘Peace Cult’ Lorean puts it to good use. The album pushes and pulls, wears its rawness on its sleeve. Guitars snarl when they need to and the quieter moments don’t feel soft. They feel like the calm before something you wouldn’t want to stop even if you could. And you can’t.

‘Peace Cult’ is a sharp, unflinching thing. It has weight. It has teeth.

Jane Weaver – ‘Happiness In Proximity’ (from ‘Love In Constant Spectacle’ LP)

Jane Weaver’s take on folk music is classic in that it carries no excess weight, no flourish for the sake of flourish. Her version of electronica similarly resonates with a precision that shimmers like the sun caught in blackthorn salt towers. Her songs are filled with a natural Otherness, a magical aura of mature experience. They’re the kind of things you think about later, when the world is quiet and it feels like you’re the only one awake. Weaver’s ‘Love In Constant Spectacle’ is real, and it’s true. It doesn’t shout for attention. It doesn’t need to. It’s a strong, steady thing. The kind of album that lasts.

The Tyde – ‘Let Me Hear The Music’ (from ‘Season 5’ LP)

‘Let Me Hear The Music’ from The Tyde’s fabulous fifth LP is essentially an origin story for the sound of this record, and what a story it is. Paul McCartney, Lou Reed, Elvis Costello. Middle Of The Road’s ‘Samson and Delilah’, ‘Angel In Disguise’ by Earl Thomas Conley. Sandy Salisbury’s ‘I Just Don’t Know How To Say Goodbye’. ‘Season 5’ then is certainly an infusion where The Past makes it presence felt, but it is also a brew that faces the future with a necessarily fractured mix of righteous pleasure and the existential bleakness of experience. ‘Season 5’ is proof that the complex need not necessarily be complicated.

Beachwood Sparks – ‘Wild Swan’s ‘ (from ‘Across The River Of Stars’ LP)

Hard to think that nearly a quarter century has passed since the first Beachwood Sparks LP crossed my path, but not so hard to celebrate the fact they are still around and that ‘Across The River of Stars’ is every bit as magical as anything they’ve recorded in the intervening years. Their particular take on Cosmic American Music has always placed as much emphasis on the spiritually psychedelic as on earthy Country vibes, but its the reverberations of the 1980s UK Indie Underground as much as the US Paisley one that have always allowed them to stand apart/above. ‘Across The River of Stars’ is evidence that they still do.

GospelbeacH – ‘The Dropouts (Parts One and Two) ‘ (from ‘Wiggle Your Fingers’ LP)

Five years on from 2019’s wonderful ‘Let It Burn’, California’s GospelbeacH return with another album of glorious 21st century Cosmic American Music. As with many of my other favourite records these days, ‘The Dropouts’ is the sound of, ahem, older adults seeking some solace in established musical forms whilst meditating on the complexities of doing so. In other words, taking musical templates created by/for youth and grappling with how to transfigure it for advancing adulthood. GospelbeacH grapple with the complexities of the challenges better than many, and ‘The Dropouts’ is finer than most as a result. Evidence that one can both embrace and reject tradition in the same breath.

Ducks Ltd. – ‘Deleted Scenes’ (from ‘Harm’s Way’ LP)

There’s only so much charming, chiming guitar pop music that I can stomach these days. Small sporadic bursts is certainly the required dosage and for my money Ducks Ltd. deliver that better than anyone else. ‘Harm’s Way’ clocks in at 28 minutes and delivers 9 songs that step up, do their thing and then bugger off, grinning a little sheepishly at their audacity and infectiousness. It’s like Stars Of Heaven high on sherbert with just enough suggestions of The Replacements to keep you on the edge of your iron roof.