The Wildcard’s Top 10 Albums of 2020

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Well, that was a year, wasn’t it? A year that felt like a decade where the curse of 2020 began as a silly joke and ended up as a hushed fact, whispered about in darkened corners of empty saloons late at night. The dramas of the year that was absolutely ravaged many industries, not the least of which being the touring music industry, but as far as recorded tunes went it was pretty great to be honest. Lots of time spent hanging around unable to play shows, might as well write some songs or get that project in the can out there. And of course we all had heaps of time to listen to them.

This list isn’t ranked. I don’t believe in arbitrary rankings like that. Preferences change on a whim depending on the time of day or the weather so trying to keep up with some sort of quantifier is a losing battle. This list is merely ten albums that I really, really liked. The ten albums I liked the most. Even that will probably change as I discover a few inevitable hidden treasures that I missed the first time around but that’s why there’s a heap of honourable mentions. It was that kinda year... not as many genius level albums as I normally find but that next level of regulation excellence was absolutely crowded with candidates. I spent weeks trying to narrow this damned thing down. And, yes, this is all one person’s opinion. Don’t worry if you disagree, hopefully you’ll find something outstanding to add to your own list though.



HONOURABLE MENTIONS

  • The Beths – Jump Rope Gazers

  • Laura Marling – Song For Our Daughter

  • David Nance – Staunch Honey

  • Bartees Strange – Live Forever

  • Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist – Alfredo

  • LA Witch – Play With Fire

  • Beabadoobee – Fake It Flowers

  • IDLES – MONO

  • Young Jesus – Welcome To Conceptual Beach

  • Mary Lattimore – Silver Ladders

  • Thundercat – It Is What It Is

  • Nick Hakim – Will This Make Me Good?

  • Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit – Reunions

  • Sorry – 925

  • Sturgill Simpson – Cuttin’ Grass Vol.1: The Butcher Shoppe Sessions

  • Charley Crockett – Welcome to Hard Times

  • Bridgid Dawson & The Mothers Network – Ballet Of Apes

  • Larkin Poe – Self-Made Man

  • Illuminati Hotties – Free IH

  • Torres – Silver Tongue


FIONA APPLE – FETCH THE BOLT CUTTERS

People like us, we play with a heavy balloon. We keep it up to keep the devil at bay, but it always falls way too soon. I spread like strawberries. I climb like peas and beans. I’ve been sucking it in so long that I’m busting at the seams”

You have to be patient when it comes to new Fiona Apple albums. When this new one dropped it had been eight years since her previous record (Idler Wheel), yet if anything was ever worth the wait then here you go. Dashingly avant-garde yet catchy as hell, and of course as emotionally vulnerable as anyone in the business. It’s no wonder it takes her so long to perfect these albums when they’re such personal statements. The bravery, the honesty, the artistic integrity. Some songs are triumphant while some are world weary and wise. There’s a DIY feel to the percussion. Even her dogs get a cheeky spotlight. But most of all it’s that voice, it’s those songs, and it’s that feeling of cathartic exhaustion that you get at the end of the album... you can’t listen to this thing without it affecting you in some way and that’s a pretty clear indication of a great work of art.


TROY KINGI – THE GHOST OF FREDDIE CESAR

Shake that skinny ass. Somebody come move the tables. If you’re ready and able come boogie with me (boogie with me baby) Get your body on the dance floor. Dance ‘til your ass can’t dance no more. Some people say funk is a dinosaur but I don’t care, I just wanna dance some more.”

There was nothing I listened to more than this album this year. Nothing. It’s sheer irrepressible funkiness doesn’t ask you to start tapping a foot or fingers to the beat... it demands you to. This is the fourth in Kingi’s 10/10/10 series – 10 albums in 10 years in 10 different genres – but this is far from a pastiche of 70s superfunk. Curtis Mayfield’s ghost jams alongside Freddie Cesar’s. Tunes like Caught in the Rain, Shake That Skinny Ass, All Your Ships Have Sailed & Sky Legs Jackson feel like they could have been recorded decades ago, freshly discovered in a vault after all these years... or on a long-lost cassette tape and rebuilt from a notebook of lyrics as the origin story of this record goes. An origin story that has absolutely baffled me since hearing it in a few interviews – it sounds like performance art but it’s deep enough that I can’t say that just in case it isn’t. So it’s either performance art of the highest level or a deep personal tragedy. Dunno. But there’s nothing tragic about the best kiwi album I heard this year. Sheer jubilant glory in those snappy horns, slashing electric guitar, and chunky rhythms. Right on.


FONTAINES D.C. - A HERO’S DEATH

All you antiquated strangers, all throwing in the towel to do another man's bidding. I was not born into this world to do another man's bidding”

These lads outta Dublin, Ireland are as essential as any rock band in the world right now. And along with IDLES, who also had a quality record this year, they’re leading this confronting, politically honest, compassionate post-punk revival in the British Isles. A Hero’s Death does not shy away from modern struggles, both societal and personal. This was a tough year, right? And when art is able to summarise and reflect those things back to us it’s a special thing. It’s not as bombastic as their debut Dogrel, perhaps, a little more sombre and reflective, but it’s every bit as vital. And Fontaines DC is such an excellent band too, so tight and full of condensed energy. Viva la revolución.


PERFUME GENIUS – SET MY HEART ON FIRE IMMEDIATELY

How long 'til this washes away? How long 'til my body is safe? How long 'til I walk in the light? How long 'til this heart isn’t mine? Take this wildness away”

There’s a deceptive frailty to Mike Hadreas’ voice which lends these tunes such a poignancy... but there’s also an incredible intensity to them when required. The opening track Whole Life swells into almost unbearably emotional territory and then immediately after comes the menacing guitar opening of Describe and phwoar what a track. Nice indication straight up that we’re in for a record that delivers on an uncompromising artistic vision, slow woozy dream pop songs mixed with righteous rocking churners. Probably the most accessible Perfume Genius album to date, rewarding from start to finish with a blooming richness throughout. And more than a handful of absolute bangers amongst. On The Floor, Nothing At All, Your Body Changes Everything... these are songs that simply cannot be contained.


FUZZ – FUZZ III

Call the morning. Speak clearly with ears open. Light and dark exist in past but for forward... there is no sum greater than one, there is no sum greater than one, there is no sum greater than one”

Argh there’s just nothing quite like the roaring onslaught of Fuzz. Ty Segall, Charles Moothart & Chad Ubovich turning the volume all the way up to 11 with the distorted proto-metal (we’re talking Black Sabbath here, not Slayer) of their garage rock supergroup. From the opening riffs of Returning you know exactly what you’re in for. Producer-god Steve Albini adds the necessary sludge to the mix and the rest is just raucous headbanging glory. Segall’s sneering vocals and his pummelling drumming in particular are always a thrill – this is far from the first time that his name has featured in one of my top tens... in fact the last Fuzz record was amongst it five years ago. The only drag is that it’s just 36 minutes long... but that keeps things nice and refined and to be honest if it was any longer then it’d cause brain melts and soul implosions so it’s probably for the best. Outrageous goodness.


PHOEBE BRIDGERS – PUNISHER

Driving out into the sun. Let the ultraviolet cover me up. Went looking for a creation myth. Ended up with a pair of cracked lips. Windows down, scream along to some America first rap-country song. A slaughterhouse, an outlet mall, slot machines, fear of God”

What can I say? It’s a masterpiece. There’s a lot of solid indie folk-ish artists out there but Phoebe Bridgers is the gold standard, the Elliott Smith of this generation... which is appropriate because there’s a song on this album about an imaginary meeting with Smithy. Bridgers’ voice is so gentle and sweet that it sounds like it might float away on the breeze... and beneath the beauty of those surface sounds there are lyrics that alternate between heartbreaking and hilarious (and in one dig at Eric Clapton... both of those things at once). This is the album to reach for when you need to feel like you’re not alone in the world. The muffled scream at the end of I Know the End, the album’s closer, was possibly the defining musical moment of the year. That whole song is incredible, to be fair.


CHRIS STAPLETON – STARTING OVER

So long, Nashville, Tennessee. You can't have what's left of me. And as far as I can tell. It's high time, I wish you well. You built me up, you set me free. You tore down my memories. So you be you and I'll be me. So long, Nashville, Tennessee”

There’s nothing quite like the pure craftsmanship of the best country songs, aye? And Chris Stapleton is one of the finest songsmiths in the business these days – unsurprising when that’s the case to see a couple Guy Clark covers included on this album, the patron saint of the craft of country-folk songwriting. There are recurring themes of accepting one’s self, of finding redemption in love, etc. Regular outlaw ideas. But mostly what Stapleton offers here is just 14 immaculately written songs. From the outlaw balladry of Starting Over to the bad boy strut of Devil Always Made Me Think Twice to the blues howler Cold to the rollicking Arkansas to the tear-jerking breakup tune Nashville, TN to the soul-country should-we-shouldn’t-we of You Should Probably Leave which might honestly be the best song anybody wrote this entire year. Chris Stapleton has never released anything less than excellent but this current batch is transcendently good. And I didn’t even mention the tribute to his dead dog.


EMILY EDROSA – ANOTHER WAVE IS COMING

Waiting out a bad connection, I can't seem to hold it in my hands. No I can't seem to get up out my head. No I can't seem to find a way to. Wade thru”

This album, Edrosa’s first full-length as a solo artist after her time fronting Street Chant, is a lesson in keeping the listener wanting more. It begins with some sweet sadness with a stunningly written four minute tune about a first heart-break called She Agreed but that one’s the longest track on the whole thing. It’s only 31 minutes long all up and an absolute belter like Wade Thru doesn’t even touch two minutes while Action holds its excellent chorus at arm’s length. Initially that feels kinda unsatisfying. But then you listen again. And again. And again. And by the time you’ve heard it often enough to take the record on its own terms, that’s when you realise just how strong it really is. I mean it’s catchy from first spin but the trick of a great album is usually that it reveals more of itself with subsequent listens. Another Wave Is Coming is honest and anxious and funny and poignant and relatable and a ripping dose of modern kiwi rock and roll.


ROSE CITY BAND - SUMMERLONG

I wish that I was only lonely. I wish that I was on the road. Can’t believe it ain’t right to be wrong. In the morning when the fog is settling, leaving and my thoughts are gone. And I feel it ain’t right to be wrong”

Ripley Johnson, old mate from Wooden Schjips and Moon Duo, has been on an absolute tear these last few years. Both those other projects have dished up excellent records in that time and this Rose City Band album, a more Deadheady by way of the Workingman era effort, only adds to that golden run. Golden’s a good word here too. This thing shimmers and shines. It’s an album that chugs along with the assuredness of a warm breeze and I almost didn’t put it in my top ten because it felt too blissed out to fit that status. But then I realised that was a dumb instinct. Summerlong finds its groove and it lives in it, a brilliant album for the sunny months, and that’s a bloody difficult thing to achieve. We’ve got fuzzed out guitars, reverberating vocals, churning rhythms... all the good vibrations.


THE THIRD MIND – THE THIRD MIND

Walk me out in the morning dew my honey. Walk me out in the morning dew today. I can’t walk you out in the morning dew my honey. I can’t walk you out in the morning dew today”

Named after a Burroughs book, this supergroup led by the great Dave Alvin is the Roky Erickson by way of Electric Miles crossover that those two never would have even come close to in their lifetimes. But if psychedelic fusion electric guitar is your thing then this one is jam on toast, amigo. Alvin’s guitar tone is simply *gorgeous* and goddamn does he let that baby wail. The Third Mind served up one of the heady-est albums you’ll hear anytime soon from the wobbly Fred Neil cover to the extended Paul Butterfield breakdown to the trippy instrumentals and beyond. Killer version of Morning Dew too - always rate a Jesse Sykes feature. Dunno how wide of an audience this one appeals to because it never seemed to get a whole lot of recognition since its release back in February but I can tell you that it’ll be in heavy rotation for me over summer.


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