The 12 Best Albums of 2019

There’s no greater task, pleasure and pain than trying to summarise a year in to a collection of unique markers. It’s more than just trying to make a list of things that are good — but instead a process of trying to find what was exceptional, but also reflective of the year past.

It’s hard to comprehend the twists and turns of events in the world, or the turbulence of personal lives, but that’s what the albums on this list do — in their own way. Each reflects the year it was released in and the times the music was created in, being a representation of the artists feelings. Some reflect the change over the course of a lifetime, some are more immediate. All of them I will continue to listen to in 2020.

Titanic Rising — Weyes Blood

Sometimes it takes a while to really get in to the swing of things, something that could apply perfectly to Weyes Blood. Titanic Rising is the fourth studio album Natalie Mering and by far the best.

This could also be the album to win the award of most accurate artwork. Everything about the sonic production of Titanic Rising feels like you’re floating gently under the water surrounded by a orchestra and discarded reverb units. Mering’s voice sits perfectly in the orchestral melee of the opening track, the drums perfectly accentuate the tune and (unsurprisingly considering her history as a bassist), contains one of the most gorgeous bas lines, hiding gently under the punch and swell.

It’s hard not to think that Weyes Blood is what a Carole King album would sound like if it was made 40 years later, while it draws from those female sognwriters, it never steals, it is it’s own, unique and spacial. But just like King and Mitchell, this album deserves to be enjoyed slowly, in a dim room with a glass of something strong and warming.

IT WON/T BE LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME — The Twilight Sad

There’s something undeniably magical about the sound of a Scottish drawl that never ceases to draw people in and there’s something undeniably Scottish about the music made by The Twilight Sad.

IT WON/T BE LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME is more polished than the bands previous efforts, but that only functions to enhance the emotion contained within it. There is space in all the recordings and more electronic elements than previously but they never take away from James Grahams vocal delivery, which is bounds above anything he’s done before. VTr sums up this refreshed direction for the band perfectly.

This album has punch, noise, drive and most importantly, impact. The wall of guitar and feedback allow the lyrics to resonate through the squeal and really take on a life of their own. The band have talked openly about how this could have been the end and been a turning point — luckily the success of the record has allowed them to go on.

Purple Mountains — Purple Mountains

It will always be a shame that there will only ever be one Purple Mountains record. While David Berman’s catalogue of music and poetry spans greater than this project, there’s something beautiful about this particular project.

Berman’s lyrics and vocals blend perfectly with the style of Woods, the New York band who took care of the music side of the project. Slide guitars accentuate dire, witty lyrics like a desperate country song — slow guitars give space to a tired and imperfect voice.

As with all art closely followed by the death of the artist, it’s hard for this albums meanings not to develop in context. On each listen a different line will stick out. It’s no doubt that even though this is set to music, this is pure poetry. These are lines that Cohen probably wishes he could have wrote, lines only Berman could have.

Two Hands — Big Thief

Big Thief pose an unusual problem this year, having released two exceptional albums. Is it too much to put both on a list when there’s little to separate their quality? How can a group really develop over the course of days, then record another album?

Somehow Big Thief did this though. The sibling to U.F.O.F., older in its release by only 5 months, closer still in when it was recorded, somehow sounds more focused, more direct while retaining the beautiful simplicity of their sound. The songwriting is sharper, the vocal deliveries more frantic and felt.

It’s not possible to listen to Two Hands without your foot tapping, your head nodding and immediately wanting to start the whole process again as soon as it is finished. It feels both old and timeless, but not like anything else that could have been made in 2019.

I Love You, It’s a Fever Dream — The Tallest Man on Earth

Some albums can give off a sense of where and when they were recorded — this is one of them. Recorded in a single bedroom afforded the title of a studio, listening to I Love You, It’s a Fever Dream feels almost intrusive at points.

Everything about the vocal delivery and instrumentation make you feel not only that this is a close, personal project of one man, but you are part of it — sitting in a cramped room, legs crossed on the floor hearing these songs for the first time. Nothing unnecessary is present in these songs, drawing your focus on to the texture of Mattson’s voice — thick and thin at the same time, gently laced in reverb and placed right in front of you.

Listen to this album on a walk, when it’s cold and you’re navigating through a busy street.

Ghosteen — Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

It’s taken 6 and a half years for Nick Cave to complete his trilogy, which considering the quality of the output is astounding. Most artists would kill to make one album of the quality of Push the Sky Away, Skeleton Tree or Ghosteen — Cave has managed a hat-trick.

Ghosteen is the first album recorded since the death of Cave’s son and there’s a sparsity in the album that reflects this. Much has been written on the two sides of the album, the Parent and Child, but the common thread that binds them is the unique style of storytelling and songwriting. Nothing is ever rushed.

The pain is evident in every line delivered, something has changed in the delivery, it’s somehow softer and more abrasive. Cave’s voice flows between registers, from deep growls against swirling choirs to cracked falsetto on muted drum rolls. It’s nothing short of arresting.

Psychodrama — Dave

When you first hear about Psychodrama, it’s easy to pin down Dave to a genre. “It’s the best grime album you’ll hear this year!” Is something I’m guilty of saying myself, but in reality it’s so much more.

What sets Dave apart from his contemporaries is his ability to combine clever, thoughtful lyricism with impeccable delivery. You can tell the album draws from the mechanics of a keyboard, each melody flows from keys and the shapes afforded from them.

The features are sparingly and effectively used, Dave’s impeccable rapping taking centre stage. This is an album that is both uniquely universal and deeply personal — it really does break new ground in its genre and beyond.

Norman Fucking Rockwell — Lana Del Rey

There’s few artists that have seemingly captured the sounds of the decade more than Lana Del Rey — which is funny considering most of what she does tries to be transcendent of time, even trying to come from the past. But the otherworldly America of a time gone by highlights in all the ways, how we all seem to be chasing an ideal scenario that may or may not have existed in the past.

Norman Fucking Rockwell isn’t a departure for Lana Del Rey, but a settling and consolidation. There’s something undeniable about the opening 20 seconds which plant you firmly in to knowing what you’re listening to is a Lana Del Rey album, the way strings resonate and transport you across an ocean and how Del Rey’s voice gently encompasses you in to this new world.

The real highlight however is the maturity in the album, songs have time to develop within themselves and become what they need to be. The songwriting is more personal and less guarded than we’ve heard Lana before and it’s this vulnerability that comes across throughout the album which makes it such a joy to listen to.

I Am Easy to Find — The National

Despite never having the mainstream success in Britain as their status may suggest — The National remain a bit of a sleeper hit, deeply loved by the beloved and unknown by everyone else. I Am Easy To Find clarifies why they deserve the love.

The album is impeccable produced, beautifully sequenced and arranged and importantly — drives the sound of the band forward while retaining all that makes them. The addition of several impeccable female vocalists never draws from the compositions, but enhances them to a level that could not be achieved before. You quite simply couldn’t have this album without the communion of artists that have come together for it — it’s more than a sum of its parts.

I Am Easy To Find, quite simply, is a near perfect album. Every aspect is considered, thoughtful and needed. Every moment enjoyable and necessary. Every listen, deeper than the last.

Western Stars, Songs from the Film — Bruce Springsteen

Western Stars was a bold return to Springsteen’s solo, bandless work. It was theatrical and orchestral. But it’s the version recorded for the film that somehow feels more complete.

Recorded and performed live in a century old barn, surrounded by friends, the E street band and an orchestra — Western Stars, Songs from the Film feels like a celebration of everything Springsteen is — clever, considered and loved. Some of the songs somehow feel more isolated when performed with others, his voice echoes differently in a live setting in a way that is uniquely him.

There isn’t anything different in many respects to the studio recorded version of the album — some tracks work better, some not as well — but as a collection of a place where an artist is, reflective but not to the point of pastiche — Western Stars, Songs from the Film feels like it has perfectly captured the end of this era of Springsteen’s songwriting and performance and set him up brilliantly for the next.

i,i — Bon Iver

I wrote at the beginning that these albums on the list are not only my favourites — but reflect the unique time they were made in. For none is this quite so apparent as i,i. Spawned from the collective hive mind of the Eaux Claire and PEOPLE festivals, i,i isn’t really the Bon Iver album of old.

Gone is the one man in a cabin and in comes waves and waves of collaboration. It used to be accurate to say Bon Iver was Justin Vernon, now it would be absurd to make the same statement. Vernon isn’t Bon Iver any more, he’s the conductor of something much bigger, ambitious but very much still, Bon Iver.

i,i never loses its sense of intimacy however — the lyrics remain very much Vernon, slithers of sense and nonsense creating a bigger picture that will no doubt be idolised in full and in part. The chorus of instrumentation remains in the most tender moments, but never detracts from the statement and the wine of Vernon’s unique baritone.

Kiwanuka — Michael Kiwanuka

Sometimes it’s the late arrival that can come in and tear up everything you thought before — Kiwanuka is this album. Released in the colder end of the year, the album is a perfect companion for a darker night.

Instantly it’s apparent that Kiwanuka is somewhere between self portrait and album. It’s not only an album about Britain in 2019, but also how Kiwanuka himself is beginning to accept his unique position within it. The vocals, as expected are impeccable as funk, soul, rock and everything else you can imagine is thrown in to the pan by Kiwanuka to create something truly magical.

This album almost feels like it could be from a different time, quite what that time is I can’t quite work out — it’s because it sounds absolutely nothing like anything else anyone is creating. It’s apt that Kiwanuka gave his name to this album because he is the only person that could have created it.