Karl Blau
Introducing Karl Blau
[Bella Union]
Indie rock veteran Karl Blau has been trucking away for 20 years as part of the K Records gang, and collaborated with musicians like Earth and Phil Elverum (there’s even a Microphones track named after him) so this is a pretty late introduction, but a welcome one nonetheless. Introducing sees Blau smearing his chocolatey vocals over country classics and, for some reason, it just works. Particular highlights are his near ten minute version of Fallin’ Rain and That’s How I Got To Memphis. – Ian Lamont
Tim Hecker
Love Streams
[4AD]
The most noticeable difference between Love Streams and the last few Hecker records is simply how much empty space there seems to be. Where before, hazes of distorted and processed sound filled every cranny of your senses, Love Streams’ emanations are smaller, subtler and less overpowering. They shimmer by quick and ephemeral like intermittent shoals of exotic fish, rather a gigantic swarm of krill. Exquisitely baffling. – Ian Lamont
Charles Bradley
Changes
[Daptone]
Discovered well into his 50s by new-soul think tank Daptone, Charles Bradley’s story is the kind that gets PR folks salivating. But on listening to Changes, or any of his previous releases for that matter, maintaining even an iota of cynicism is near impossible. You’d be hard pressed to find a collection of songs more deeply felt, or a performer more dedicated to his craft than Bradley. This record is a gift, the likes of which you thought you’d never see the likes of again. – Danny Wilson
Deakin
Sleep Cycle
[Animal House]
Animal Collective’s perpetual bridesmaid, Deakin (Joshua Dibb to the taxman) has, following years of false starts and second-guessing, finally deemed his solo debut fit for public consumption. Somewhat surprisingly, uncertainty suits the man. While the maximalism born of absolute confidence that has characterised his Collective’s last few albums has brought mixed results, this refreshingly straightforward collection, redolent of AC-related masterworks Sung Tongs and Person Pitch, is the most immediately absorbing release out of their Technicolor zoo in recent memory. – Danny Wilson
Kevin Morby
Singing Saw
[Dead Oceans]
Kevin Morby’s work, as showcased on two albums preceding this, has always felt like a love letter to great American songwriters both present and past. Therein lays the primary gripe: Morby has struggled to establish a distinct voice, on occasion feeling like somebody doing a (granted, pretty good) Cass McCombs impression. Singing Saw displays a considerable forward leap as Morby has produced something more than a salute to the singer-songwriter tradition but a lush, expansive and wholly worthy entry all his own. – Danny Wilson
The Greg Lloyd Group
The Long Way Home
[Homegrown]
Once in awhile you have to go away and come back later to get proper attention. Greg Lloyd did some gigs around Dublin a while back, then he slipped away and did 50 plus sellout performances all around Australia and Japan. The Long Way Home deserves a good listen to by those who missed it first time. An astonishing jazz pianist, Lloyd is ably assisted here by drummer Kevin Brady and bassist Dave Redmond. Come for the title track and stay for Uzak and One Night in Samois. – Tom Cahill
Andrew Bird
Are You Serious
[Loma Vista]
After around two decades of clever and surprising songwriting, Are You Serious sounds like Andrew Bird’s first pause for breath. Where his songs have usually twisted and turned down unexpected paths, most tracks here keep to the same lane in which they begin, and his signature layers of metaphor seem a little more translucent. But this straightforwardness, paired with his most engaged vocal performance yet, show that, even when not playing to his strengths, Bird can still captivate. – Leo Devlin
Cate Le Bon
Crab Day
[Drag City]
Out of a steadily held drumbeat and gently indifferent guitar line, Cate Le Bon’s voice wanders somewhat absent-mindedly, singing about whatever’s currently holding her attention, no matter how mundane. Crab Day is laid-back to the point of breezing past breeziness, but the less it cares, the more delightful it becomes. Most tracks feel like embellished versions of the kind of improvised ditties one could imagine Le Bon mumbling while doing the washing-up. Hugely endearing and occasionally profound. – Leo Devlin
