Best Of 2022: As Arbitrary As It Gets

I don’t do Spotify, or stream at all. One year a decade ago I used Pandora. I don’t tend to jump on to whatever’s popular, and I don’t necessarily need to hear something as soon as it comes out. More often than not, I discover artists years into their careers, or years after. And I’ve never given much consideration to a best of list or anything of the sort because in most years, what I’ve listened to most in the course of a year was released long before.

No shade on those who do. Especially with people I know, like J. Eric Smith, who has been listing for decades, I often read their lists even if I’m never going to listen to 90% of what they’re writing about. It’s the stories that are interesting.

But this year has brought so many good new (to me) vinyl albums into my life, and since the purpose of this vanity project is to tell stories about my records, I thought I’d dip my toe in the list waters (and promise to stop trying to metaphor). The categories are entirely made-up, and in most cases, there is no difference between my first and second choices. I don’t rank things arbitrarily.

So here’s what happened in my collection in 2022. For one thing, I added about 102 new vinyl records, and 6 CDs. 19 of those 102 were gifts from a friend who was cleaning out her parents’ record collection, largely classical. So that’s only a few more than the 89 records I got last year, and 83 the year before. Do I need to exercise more restraint now that I get to walk past a record store every day of my life? Perhaps.

Some of these were released in 2022, some of these are just new to me. Either way.

Best reissues of 2022:

Dave Alvin — Eleven Eleven

I have loved this album since it came out in 2011. I had been lightly following Dave Alvin, and had picked up the CD of Dave Alvin and The Guilty Men’s “Interstate City” back around 1998, and loved it, but I didn’t get real deep. I listened to his album with The Guilty Women, and it was good but didn’t quite light a fire for me. But “Eleven Eleven” did. There’s a timing element to that – it came out in a year when my life changed in some important and positive ways, when our personal economic depression ended and I actually could buy music again. I bought this digitally, not even a CD, but in those days digital was most of my listening. And boy, did this one resonate. Alvin’s voice had hit a particular aged quality, his playing was incredible, and these rootsy but extremely rocking songs really touched a nerve. It starts with the driving, dark romantic ballad “Harlan County Line,” then launches into one of the most epic story-telling songs ever, “Johnny Ace Is Dead.” There’s some novelty fun in “What’s Up With Your Brother?” and a lot of beauty and sadness. The album got a lot of play through these years, but less in the last three years since I moved almost entirely to vinyl. This year Yep Roc announced there would be an 11th anniversary edition, expanded with three additional songs, to be released on Nov. 11. I ordered it back in June or July, whenever it was announced, and thought it might make a nice anniversary present for us, but also thought it unlikely it would actually ship and arrive in time for our anniversary. Then, to be honest, I forgot about it. To my surprise, it showed up right on Nov. 11, and It’s hardly left the turntable since.

Cowboy Junkies — Sharon

This isn’t precisely a reissue, since this album was never officially released. This was originally recorded in 1989 as the follow-up to “The Trinity Session,” and recorded in an almost identical method – live, around a single microphone, in an old church. Though it was never released, a number of the songs showed up on the much more polished studio album that followed, “The Caution Horses.” But as a document of a moment, and as a testament to what a really good band and a really good sound engineer can do, this is a remarkable record.

Best reissues I didn’t know existed:

Chicago / The Blues / Today! Vol. 1

I had no idea this little set of Vanguard blues from 1966 had been reissued. I just discovered Vol. 2 about three years back, and it’s barely left my turntable since. Such a seminal Chicago blues collection, and of course on that Vanguard vinyl that never seems to wear out. I always had a mind to go looking for the other two volumes but never quite took it up with Discogs. When I saw this as a re-release at Forever Changes, I fairly squealed with excitement! I had no idea anyone had taken on a re-release – well, Craft did, and they did a beautiful job. Not least of these records are the amazing liner notes by Sam Charters, which don’t sugar coat what we’re listening to – race, poverty, unequal opportunity, that’s all in the blues, and he doesn’t hide it. Neither do the covers for this series – this is gritty Chicago, the reality of how these blues men (for they were all men at the time) lived, worked, and performed. So good.

Small Faces — Live 1966

I don’t know how it caught my attention, among the hundreds of social media posts I might see in any given week, but I saw one from the Small Faces official FB page – not a current post, mind you, but a pinned post from 2021 announcing the release of a live recording from 1966 – the earliest live recording of a Small Faces gig in existence, and none of the tracks had been released before. Shipping from the UK was a little pricey and questionable these days, so I took a chance on an eBay seller with a curiously low price, but it arrived just fine and holy cats are these amazing recordings! Although my introduction to Small Faces was “There Are But Four Small Faces,” and the off-the-wall psychedelic document “Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake,” I quickly became enamored of their earlier material that hadn’t been released in the US, and that energy is captured in these live performances. The sound quality is amazing. Not to be missed for any fan of Small Faces.

Best stirring emotional documents:

Mavis Staples — We’ll Never Turn Back

My wife heard this one playing at our local record store and did not pass go, did not collect $200 – she just grabbed it and brought it home.

We didn’t have any other Staples music, other than a few Mavis cameos here and there. I think my first and last familiarity with The Staples Singers was their big hit, “If You’re Ready (Come Go With Me)” which went top 10 in 1973, the very year I started listening to radio religiously. But that was it – I knew their names, I knew they were legends who continued recording, but I didn’t have any connection to them. To be honest, no matter what you’re doing, if it’s gospel-tinged it’s not likely to be front and center with me. Love the music, but Christian messages have no resonance. But of course Mavis Staples has popped up there and there, and showed herself to be a particular delight in “Take Me To The River” and some other documentaries where her personality shone through.

Well, this is pure love, power, sadness, fight – the whole package. Beautiful and heartbreaking, and the production (typical for Ry Cooder) is invisible.

Since this record, I’ve also picked up her 2019 album with Ben Harper, “We Get By,” and it’s also fantastic.

Summer of Soul Soundtrack

My heart broke hearing the story of the incredible music festival that was filmed, forgotten and lost … the one that couldn’t get any interest at the time because it wasn’t white. Really, the only explanation possible. The most popular, the most creative, most interesting artists of the day came together to play a show centered around a message of hope and freedom – but they did it for an audience of color, largely, so it was simply dismissed. Deftly directed by Questlove, the documentary that was released in 2021 is just a document of joy, of love, of hope . . . and of shame, shame that something like this was buried all these years (and could well have been lost). It is an emotional work. I was privileged to watch it with friends in a private showing at a local theater when we were still in the depths of the pandemic (not that we aren’t now), and when it ended, we all just stood out on the street for 45 minutes dissecting what we had just seen.

The soundtrack album captures some of the standout musical performances. It’s not possible to listen to this and not be moved. The incredible voices of the 5th Dimension (whose song choices I frequently excoriate – but here, “Let The Sunshine In” seems to have a different context), powerful gospel from The Edwin Hawkins Singers and The Staple Singers, Sly Stone showing up. And the closer by Nina Simone, “Are You Ready” – well, that just had to close the album. What could follow that?

Best American French Pop:

Pomplemoose — Impossible À Prononcer

I discovered Pomplemoose through their fun, enthusiastic YouTube covers. Like most artists I’ve recently discovered through YouTube, they’ve been around for ages – just new to me. I think I was first particularly taken with their rather (intentionally) flat, mysterious cover of “Happy Together.” Well, it turns out they’re also smitten with French Pop, and this year put out this collection of French pop songs on a limited vinyl edition. It’s quickly become part of the Sunday morning French pop rotation (it’s a thing), where we listen to pretty little songs in a language we don’t understand. A lovely little record.

Best Oh My God How Did I Never Have This Before:

13th Floor Elevators — Easter Everywhere

With 13th Floor Elevators, it seems like their debut album, “The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators,” gets all the love and attention. This isn’t taking anything away from that, but when I picked up a reissue of “Easter Everywhere” earlier this year, I found it simply mesmerizing. I’ve played it many more times than I’ve played the debut. Just something about it. A fabulous cover of “(It’s All Over Now) Baby Blue,” and the hypnotic “Slide Machine,” among many others. An incredible little slice of 1967, psychedelic before it had really taken hold.

Best Sunday Morning Music:

April March – In Cinerama

I really didn’t know anything about April March until a few years ago, when her English version of “Chick Habit” (originally France Gall’s “Laisse Tomber Les Filles”) took hold of my imagination, thanks to its inclusion in a Tarantino soundtrack. Oddly, that sent me off more in a France Gall and French pop direction than in investigating April March more – but then earlier this year I took a chance on this 2021 Record Store Day release, and oh boy, am I glad. It’s sweet, subtle, simple pop, easy going but not easy listening, if that’s a distinction I can make. There’s a little bit of drive to it. Super enjoyable when I’m looking for something a little more like rock for a Sunday morning – which these days is usually given over to: French pop.

Courtney Barnett – Things Take Time, Take Time

I’ve already written about this new entry, but it has also become part of the Sunday morning rotation. There’s just something both simple and energetic about it.