It's the same old song I've been writing all along

I’m on an email listserv of alt-country/Americana music nerds, and one of our traditions is that members make annual Top 10 lists of their favorite albums, compiled into a year-end poll of the year’s best albums. Even when I don’t listen to enough new music to participate, it’s a fun way to see what other people are digging and find the good albums I may have missed out on.

This year, I actually am making a top 10 list. It’s hard to keep up with new music in the thick of an election season, when I tend to mark listserv emails as read without opening and reach for older albums as musical comfort food, but I’ve been catching up in November and December, especially with all the driving I’ve been doing - nothing better for either a long drive or a trip around town than some good music. That said, I’m 100% sure I’ve missed out on some really great work and would love to hear what you’ve been listening to this year!

I’ve adored Caroline Spence for years and years - I first saw her back in 2015, opening for John Moreland (another one of my favorites, his record this year Birds in the Ceiling just missed my top 10), and I’ve been a fan ever since. She’s one of the best songwriters around, with a gentle and sweet voice that complements her remarkable writing talent perfectly. On this album and the last, she’s broadened her horizons a little stylistically, adding some new sounds to break out of the “woman with acoustic guitar” sound and I appreciate it, but the sound always stays true to her Americana/folk roots and lets the true gems, her lyrics and voice, take center stage. And perhaps most importantly, I found that many of the themes of the album - understanding yourself, finding love that understands and overcomes your own limitations and barriers, and chasing your dreams - was exactly what I needed to hear during a tumultuous year where I figured out and started out on a new and wildly different path for myself. I needed and loved this very much.

This is a change of pace for Lee Bains, whose previous records had a harder rock/punk edge (and were occasionally a wall of distortion). This album has a folk vibe, but the values that imbue Lee’s songwriting haven’t changed a bit - and in many ways I think this sound lets them come through even better. It’s at once a sweet ode to the working people who provide all that’s good about the South and America and a blistering condemnation of the unbridled capitalist lechery, the divisions, and the racism that let it rot and tear it apart. The album reminds me a little of the early pandemic, when he’d sit by a fireplace on Facebook Live, pull out his acoustic guitar, and sing old gospel songs for an hour or so to help us all get through. Only this time, the higher power isn’t God but the better angels of our own nature.

You might know Amanda Shires as Jason Isbell’s better half and fiddle player or one-fourth of The Highwomen (and if you don’t, you should probably listen to them too, because holy shit they’re so good). I enjoyed Amanda’s last couple of solo albums but didn’t find them to have much staying power. This one does. The vulnerability of the lyrics, many of which tell a story of the difficulties of keeping the passion and excitement in a long-term relationship, will leave a mark, and the backings have more variety and heft to them. I found myself thinking of Florence + the Machine often when listening, which is a huge compliment in my book - though both women come from different musical starting points, they both have a gift for lush musical arrangements, evocative lyrics in clear and gorgeous voices, and perhaps just a bit of a flair for the dramatic.

This one, like much of Nikki Lane’s work, feels like a throwback in the best way. She evokes the outlaw country days of Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson while also bringing a feminine perspective to a genre that, for all its greatness and contributions to country music, was often way too dude-heavy. The songwriting is sharp too, acknowledging the costs of being a rebel and a square peg in a world of round holes while also expressing the simple joy of breaking free of society’s expecations. Perfect album to blast and sing along to on a long drive.

This album is an instant serotonin boost for me. Even when lyrically it deals with the wreckage of a failed long-term relationship, the upbeat power pop gets stuck in my head and never fails to make me smile.

This was a late-breaking revelation for me. Anything involving the phrase “non-binary pansexual country singer” is going to pique my interest, but Adeem did so much more than perk my ears. Their songwriting is wonderful, leading with empathy and delighting in subverting our expectations. It’s not subtle, but sometimes subtlety is overrated.

This is the part where my non-music nerd friends go “Finally, someone I’ve heard of!” Yes, I am a Swiftie. folklore and evermore were both among my 2020 favorites, with Taylor Swift blending her genius songwriting with the folk vibes I love. The return to pop on Midnights doesn’t always work for me, but her songwriting remains as brilliant as ever.

Two women-fronted indie rock bands from Oceania on one list! (The other being The Beths, of New Zealand.) And much like The Beths, this one just feels joyful. The catchy melodies help, as does the core theme, which feels like it’s a lesson hard-learned for many of us over the past few years - you can’t stop the chaos, so embrace it instead.

I absolutely love Bonnie Whitmore’s solo work. I do find myself missing the rock ‘n’ roll edge she can bring to it - the collaboration with her sister can feel a little one-note in comparision - but her songwriting is just as good and what the album lacks in variety it makes up for with lovely harmonies.

Willy Vlautin’s songwriting and Amy Boone’s rich, soulful voice, with some backing that’s country with just a hint of jazz, hits me right where I live. Their previous albums, Colfax and The Imperial, were among my favorites of 2014/2019 and both are still in regular rotation for me, with Willy Vlautin taking us into the lives of his down-and-out characters roaming the American West 4 minutes at a time. If I had to pinpoint a reason this album is #10 and not #1, it’s the attempt to channel the Gulf Coast instead of the West - I appreciate wanting to switch things up as an artist, but sometimes I get the sense that Vlautin doesn’t know these characters or this place as fully as he knows the rural West. Still, when it works, it works, and this album is well worth your time.

Happy listening and let me know if you find anything from here you love, or if you have other music you love that you think I’d love too!