Best of 2023

Favorite Films of 2023

Chris KriofskeLeave a comment

1. MAY DECEMBER

I suppose Todd Haynes’ latest does for Lifetime TV movies what his 2002 film Far From Heaven did for Douglas Sirk, recreating an aesthetic and carefully tweaking it for postmodern consumption; it’s also a study of what it means to perform or play a role, the self-awareness (or lack thereof) in doing so convincingly and the long-term implications of surrendering to one’s own delusions. Arguably only Todd Haynes (with help from Julianne Moore, Natalie Portman and Charles Melton) could pull off such a tricky balancing act, effortlessly blending camp and melodrama until they seem indistinguishable from one another. His most psychologically complex film since Carol (if not Safe).

2. ALL OF US STRANGERS

Andrew Haigh’s (Weekend) most ambitious, personal effort, a loose adaptation of a Japanese novel about a man (Andrew Scott) confronting his past in an unusual way (to say the very least in avoiding spoilers here.) With great work from Scott, Paul Mescal, Jamie Bell and Claire Foy, Haigh utilizes a visual and sonic language that feels singular in its focus and drive. Call it a sci-fi tinged, queer mid-life crisis film or a less solipsistic companion to, say, Call Me By Your Name but note the key lyric from a Frankie Goes To Hollywood song (one piece of a brilliant soundtrack) emphasized here: “Make love your goal.”

3. THE HOLDOVERS

This return to smart, dyspeptic comedy reunites director Alexander Payne with another master of the form, Paul Giamatti. Not only set in 1970, it also looks and feels like something from that period with its painstakingly correct stylistic touches (opening credits font, slow dissolves, winsome folk-rock soundtrack), fully capturing the feeling and substance of a good Hal Ashby film. Still, Giamatti (an ornery all-boys schoolteacher), Da’Vine Joy Randolph (a cafeteria manager whose son was recently killed in Vietnam) and newcomer Dominic Sessa (the belligerent pupil Giamatti’s tasked to look after during holiday break) together give the film its soul. 

4. MONSTER

The first third of Hirokazu Kore-eda’s first effort set in his native Japan since Shoplifters comes off as a darkly comic fable about a fifth-grader being bullied by his teacher; what happens next sets the momentum for a narrative only fully revealed one all of its pieces gradually fall into place. One of the director’s most accessible works due in part to its swift pace, the unique structure enhances its rhythms—it also clinches one’s attention with humor and a tricky premise but then extends an invitation to learn the full story and witness how we can instill change in one another.

5. SHOWING UP

Kelly Reichardt’s (First Cow) latest is a reminder as to why I admire films where, while viewing them, my perception slowly, organically shifts from “Why am I watching this?” to “I never want it to end”. I’m also drawn to those that delve into the notion that it’s always best to go with the flow. Naturally, Reichardt’s longtime collaborator Michelle Williams is perfectly cast (as a somewhat cranky but undeniably talented starving artist), but don’t forget Hong Chau once again killing it in a supporting role or the evocative sound design.

6. AFIRE

This might be Christian Petzold’s (Undine) most explicitly comedic film to date. It starts off unassumingly, slowly building its relationships and character arcs as wildfires remain a background threat heard about but only seen via glowing, burnished, distant skies. Like those fires, it’s a slow burn until, all at once, it encompasses everything in its path with dire consequences for some and narrow escapes for others. It’s reminiscent of a Gary Shteyngart novel in that it’s expertly constructed, caustically funny and in the end, tinged with tragedy and the possibility of transformation.

7. GIVE ME PITY!

Cheerfully billed as “A Saturday Night Television Special” starring Sissy St. Claire (Sophie von Haselberg), writer/director Amanda Kramer’s art piece may feel as if it’s beaming in from another planet to those unfamiliar with 1970s/80s variety shows. But she understands that if you’re going to make a feature-length pastiche, pinpoint accuracy is required (smeary video in the 4:3 standard definition format, elaborate wigs, neon colors, the requisite hanging mirrorball, vintage-looking graphics, etc.) It also gradually transcends its premise, peeling off layer after layer of everything that goes into a performance and the toll it can take on the performer’s psyche.

8. PAST LIVES

One can easily detect why Celine Song’s debut feature was so celebrated this year. In addition to strong performances from Greta Lee, Teo Yoo and John Magaro, it presents a love triangle setup with rare subtlety: it conveys its dramatic intricacies with grace and an understanding of what it means to be here now, always and forever one of the most relevant personal conflicts that narrative films tend to gloss over or simply ignore. It’s also invaluable as a record of how the present and past began to converge in the age of social media.

9. RYE LANE

British writer-director Raine Allen-Miller’s widely praised debut feature has all the elements a good rom-com should (sharp screenplay, appealing leads w/chemistry, plenty of laughs) but also an actual perspective that’s deeply felt in everything from the visual design and location shooting (South London comes off as vibrant here as it did dystopian in All Of Us Strangers) to the way in which it coaxes and earns its laughs. Acquired by Hulu in the US, it should have had as robust and expansive a theatrical release as Past Lives.

10. ANATOMY OF A FALL

A thriller about a woman (Sandra Hüller) accused of her husband’s murder that could just as easily have been a suicide, Justine Triet’s Cannes Palme d’Or winner is nearly as suspenseful as the best Hitchcock while also considerably more humanist in its depictions of the main character and her son. The trial scenes can be a bit much (e.g. the smug prosecutor) but overall this plays like a riveting page-turner of a novel. As the hearing-impaired son, Milo Machado Graner gives the best child performance in eons next to Lola Campbell (Scrapper).

11. KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON

Between the lead performances (Lily Gladstone, we love you) and how masterfully it builds without coming off as awards-bait, this already feels like Scorsese’s best of this century.

12. CLOSE

So much here is communicated through facial expressions and pauses in conversations. Explores the intensity of burgeoning adolescence in a way I haven’t seen done before.

13. ALL THE BEAUTY AND THE BLOODSHED

Maybe my favorite new documentary since the one on David Wojnarowicz, and his presence here doesn’t even distract from Nan Goldin, whose work and life personifies that blur between the two.

14. ROTTING IN THE SUN

The movie that dares to ask, “What is the biggest dick onscreen?” in all senses of the word; pretty ingenious in its use of a meta-narrative (plus Catalina Saaverda, as great here as she was in director Sebastian Silva’s The Maid.)

15. THE NOVELIST’S FILM

My fifth Hong Sang-soo film and easily my favorite for what it withholds and also for what it provides in return.

16. TORI AND LOKITA

Reassuring (if depressing) that cine-activists like the Dardennes will never run out of subjects stoking their outrage at an unjust society; one of their starkest and most effective critiques.

17. FALLEN LEAVES

A strange but charming middle-aged romance between a supermarket worker (Alma Pöysti) and an alcoholic laborer (Jussi Vatanen) that could only come from veteran Finnish purveyor of deadpan humor Aki Kaurismaki.

18. THE UNKNOWN COUNTRY

While it takes a little time to gather momentum, Morrisa Maltz’s narrative-docu-roadtrip hybrid ends up a fresh approach to telling a story of not just one person (Lily Gladstone, great again) but of the worlds she inhabits and intersects with. 

19. NO BEARS

Of all the meta-films Jafar Panahi’s made in the past decade-plus since his government began enforcing restrictions preventing him from making another more traditional (so to speak) narrative like Offside, this feels like a summation, a crescendo and hopefully not the final word.

20. THE ZONE OF INTEREST

No atrocities are shown in Jonathan Glazer’s holocaust film but their background presence seems to permeate every scene with the horror of being adjacent to genocide and living with it. What’s tangentially acknowledged and left up to the imagination becomes just as disturbing as if one were to face it head on.

Linoleum

ALSO RECOMMENDED:

  • A Thousand and One
  • All That Breathes
  • Asteroid City
  • Barbie
  • BlackBerry
  • Bottoms
  • Full Time
  • Godland
  • Linoleum
  • Of An Age
  • Orlando, My Political Biography
  • Pacifiction
  • Passages
  • Reality
  • R.M.N.
  • Scrapper
  • The Blue Caftan
  • The Boy and The Heron
  • The Pigeon Tunnel
  • The Quiet Girl
  • You Hurt My Feelings

Favorite First Viewings of Older Films in 2023

Chris KriofskeLeave a comment

Courtesy of The Criterion Channel, I kicked off 2023 re-watching everything Mike Leigh directed up through Four Days In July (except for the presently unstreamable Bleak Moments) and concluded the year viewing every feature and short directed by Hal Hartley up through Henry Fool. In between, I saw lots of good stuff for the first time; here are my ten favorites.

1. STARTING OVER

As late-70s divorce films go, there are Kramer Vs. Kramer people and Starting Over people; count me as one of the latter. As a Boston-shot-and-set movie from this era, it’s even better than Between The Lines. Also, you have Burt Reynolds at his best (imagine if he chose to make more intelligent rom-coms like this!), the always engaging Jill Clayburgh and of course a hilarious Candice Bergen, truly “Better Than Ever” (at least until Murphy Brown.)

2. THERE’S ALWAYS TOMORROW

Even “minor” Douglas Sirk is pretty great because he just can’t resist a shot of three creepy clown dolls seconds after the opening credits or dialogue like “It’s just so incredibly atomic!” or weird framing such as placing that unsettling little robot (“Rex”) in the left foreground while relegating star Fred MacMurray to the back. If this were in Technicolor instead of black-and-white it might be as celebrated as All That Heaven Allows.

3. UNFORGIVEN

My attempt to see every single Academy Award Best Picture winner continued this year, with this one from 1992 by far the most revelatory of those I watched. As someone who has often admired but rarely loved Clint Eastwood as a filmmaker, “We all got it coming, kid” is a more vulnerable and profound conclusion than I would have ever expected from him. A revisionist Western nearly up there with McCabe & Ms. Miller, no less.

4. THE WAGES OF FEAR

Obviously no one ever told Mario (Yves Montand) (or his pal Luigi (Folco Lulli), LOL) about that old adage, “You Can’t Win.” A thriller barely surpassed in thrills and mounting intensity. Also, perhaps the best movie without a score until The Birds. William Friedkin’s (RIP) 1977 pseudo-remake Sorcerer is near the top of my watchlist, though I’m holding out for a theatrical screening.

5. THE SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE

Victor Erice’s memory piece should resonate for those who recall childhood as something approaching a fever dream—it may appear ordinary on the surface, but it teems with mystery and engages in the act of discovery. The kids attending a screening of the 1931 Frankenstein is up there with all-time great scenes of characters in movies watching other movies.

6. THE RIGHT STUFF

Maybe the best film about space travel after 2001: A Space Odyssey? Apart from sections of the score, it might’ve been made yesterday. Of the impressive ensemble and appearances by everyone from Lance Henriksen to Jeff Goldblum, it was most surprising to see how charismatic a young Dennis Quaid was—he lights up every scene he’s in and I can’t help but think his career subsequently did not live up to this potential.

7. MABOROSI

The title translates as “a trick of the light”, which Hirokazu Kore-eda already depicts masterfully in his first narrative feature. The subject matter’s not dissimilar to his subsequent films even if it’s comparatively opaque. Still, the visual language he uses to propel it forward is so inventive and intuitive I hope I can see it in a cinema one day.

8. VIRIDIANA

Often entertained but rarely moved by many of his films, Luis Buñuel hits the bullseye on this one—even if the moral now seems quaint, the audacity with how sinuously he blends the comic with the horrific to arrive at it still startles. As a lapsed Catholic myself, I felt both reverence at his depiction of religious iconicity and the wicked glee with which he masterfully dismantles it.

9. HEAT

In Michael Mann’s more-revered-with-each-passing-year crime epic, Robert De Niro’s rare stoicism beautifully balances out Al Pacino’s fervent (if inspired) outbursts while Val Kilmer’s groundwork eventually reveals itself as a life-force when he finally flashes that million-dollar smile near the end. A world I would never want to physically exist in but am happy to witness from the other side of the screen.

10. IVANS XTC.

Barely released at the time and long since unavailable, this early digitally-shot feature now plays like an immediate precursor to Mulholland Drive without much of the Lynchian weirdness but all of the gimlet-eyed perception of modern Hollywood. An Academy Award for a tremendous Danny Huston would’ve been much, much more satisfying than the two given to Russell Crowe around this time.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

  • All The King’s Men (1949)
  • Black Girl
  • The Bridge on the River Kwai
  • Catch Me If You Can
  • Deep End
  • Hour of the Wolf
  • Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
  • Lady Macbeth
  • Rachel, Rachel
  • The Third Generation
  • Tricia’s Wedding
  • Unbreakable

Trust

BEST REWATCHES (not including anything for 24 Frames):

  • After The Thin Man
  • Cache
  • Dog Day Afternoon
  • Jackie Brown
  • The Long Day Closes
  • Meantime
  • Raising Arizona
  • A Serious Man
  • The Trial
  • Trust
  • Velvet Goldmine
  • World On A Wire
  • Y Tu Mama Tambien

2023 Booklist

Chris KriofskeLeave a comment

My ten favorite new-ish books I read in 2023 (unranked; in alphabetical order by author’s last name):

Maria Bamford, Sure, I’ll Join Your Cult

She’s such a singular comedian and presence that you go into it hoping it’ll fully capture that voice on the page; it does, even if I almost wish I waited for the audiobook. Still, her delivery’s only a facet of what makes her so unique. While early on, she emphasizes that this parody of self-help books is indeed a parody, it’s not totally lacking in useful advice—a tightrope where she balances laughs and their not-so-funny origins effortlessly, just as she does in much of her standup work.

Emma Cline, The Guest

Cline’s second novel is as composed, subtle and biting as any fiction Joan Didion (see below) ever wrote, even if it’s decidedly of today rather than any kind of throwback or homage. Her titular protagonist, a directionless Millennial sponging off of anyone she can find (or trick into aiding her) comes off as a more serious version as one of the characters on the great, late TV series Search Party; Cline’s also shrewd enough to lace some dark humor within her thriller structure.

A.M. Homes, The Unfolding

I’ve been waiting nearly a decade for Homes (May We Be Forgiven) to release another novel. I can’t say I was expecting this, a relatively compact what-if about the machinations of a network of conservatives planning to “take back America” after the first Obama election; however, I was not surprised to discover how humane and complex she renders these indefensible characters, presenting an extensive understanding of how they got where they are without at all excusing them for their actions. 

Evelyn McDonnell, The World According to Joan Didion

Even more compact, McDonnell sidesteps the usual biographical doorstop for something more closely resembling a critical work about her subject, partially in the way Rob Sheffield did a few years ago for The Beatles. What Didion means to McDonnell and, more significantly to the culture she reported on and invited her readers to view through an ever-distinct lens is what drives these reflections and observations; it was enough to make me want to revisit Slouching Towards Bethlehem immediately.

Paul Murray, The Bee Sting

This Irish author’s long-awaited fourth novel is nearly his longest, definitely most ambitious and possibly darkest (a real feat coming from the guy best known for Skippy Dies.) Yes, it’s an epic tome about a dysfunctional family but one where it really does take 600+ pages to peel back all of its layers and arrive at an expertly detailed comprehension of where everything went wrong and the weight of what would be lost if it were to end tragically. Murray’s prose here can be frustrating in its lack of compromise but also admirable for that same reason.

Alex Pappademas and Joan Le May, Quantum Criminals

Not every band warrants a book about them, but one as popular and simultaneously cultish and divisive as Steely Dan surely does. This picks apart their distinct jazz-pop and personal history via short chapters about characters populating their tunes (like “Deacon Blues”, “Peg” and “Josie”, for starters) and the other characters who wrote and performed them: Donald, Walter and a revolving cast of bandmates, session musicians and influential figures. With Le May’s drawings enhancing Pappademas’ insightful prose, it’s a hoot if you’re a fan and might even convert those few listeners on the fence.

Ann Patchett, Tom Lake

Patchett’s latest is another novel whose ambitious structure consists of a series of gradually revealed puzzle pieces where their assemblage is as intriguing as the complete picture they eventually form. As the narrator relays a story from her past as a summer stock actress to her three daughters on their family farm during Covid lockdown, Patchett maintains the momentum of these parallel narratives with a deft hand while also exploring the notion of performance, both onstage and off.

Ian Penman, Fassbinder Thousands of Mirrors

I’ve been looking for a new book (or any old one, for that matter) on New German Cinema director Rainer Werner Fassbinder for some time. Penman’s short but still bountiful mosaic of essays (some of them a sentence or two long) is a new way of viewing this iconoclast: it considers how an artist’s dense body of work (in this case, 40-odd films over a 13 year period) lives on decades after his death and continues to reveal new facets and contexts to those revisiting or for the first time discovering them.

Michael Schulman, Oscar Wars

Just when you think you didn’t need another book about the Academy Awards, this The New Yorker contributor comes out with perhaps the best one on them, or at least the most entertaining and relevant as the institution reaches its century mark. Focusing on about a dozen of the most notable editions (Midnight Cowboy’s win, the Snow White/Rob Lowe disaster, the La La Land/Moonlight mixup), it’s a fizzy read acknowledging the utter ridiculous of the Oscars while also making the case for their continued relevance.

Matt Singer, Opposable Thumbs

In all of its iterations, Siskel & Ebert was both a fun watch and innovative in transforming how we consume cinema and connect with others in talking about it. This book shows that what transpired behind the scenes was just as compelling as the show itself. It seems so simple now, the notion of placing two highly competitive critics, both with outsized personalities in a room together and giving them free reign to argue about movies (and everything else.) Singer reveals the whole story in a compulsively readable account recommended for both film and TV enthusiasts.

Here’s my complete 2023 Booklist, with titles in chronological order of when I finished reading them (starred entries are books I’ve re-read):

  1. Douglas Coupland, Binge
  2. Ramzy Alwakeel, How We Used Saint Etienne To Live
  3. Warren Ellis, Nina Simone’s Gum
  4. Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook
  5. Paul Murray, The Mark and The Void*
  6. George Saunders, Liberation Day
  7. Larry Widen and Judi Anderson, Silver Screens: A Pictorial History of Milwaukee’s Movie Theaters
  8. David Mitchell, Number 9 Dream
  9. Eve Babitz, Eve’s Hollywood
  10. Matthew Horton, George Michael’s Faith (33 1/3 series)
  11. Andrew Sean Greer, The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells
  12. David Sheppard, On Some Faraway Beach: The Life and Times of Brian Eno*
  13. Tim Blanchard, Like Magic In The Streets
  14. Elizabeth Strout, Olive Kitteridge
  15. Shawn Levy, In On The Joke
  16. Craig Brown, 150 Glimpses of The Beatles
  17. Hanya Yanagihara, To Paradise
  18. Michael Schulman, Oscar Wars
  19. Kurt Vonnegut, Galapagos*
  20. Haruki Murakami, Men Without Women
  21. Charles Bramesco, Colors of Film
  22. Joseph Lanza, Easy Listening Acid Trip
  23. Ian Penman, Fassbinder Thousands of Mirrors
  24. Emma Cline, The Guest
  25. Samantha Irby, Quietly Hostile
  26. Donna Tartt, The Little Friend
  27. Kent Jones (ed.), Olivier Assayas
  28. Ted Gioia, Music: A Subversive History
  29. Bill Bryson, I’m a Stranger Here Myself*
  30. Pauline Kael, The Age of Movies: Selected Writings of…
  31. Elizabeth McCracken, The Hero Of This Book
  32. Geoff Dyer, Yoga For People Who Can’t Be Bothered To Do It
  33. Tracey Thorn, Bedsit Disco Queen*
  34. Anthony Doerr, Cloud Cuckoo Land
  35. Adam Levin, Kodachrome Milwaukee
  36. Curtis Sittenfeld, Romantic Comedy
  37. Alex Pappademas and Joan Le May, Quantum Criminals
  38. Mike Doughty, I Die Each Time I Hear The Sound
  39. John Hodgman, Vacationland*
  40. A.M. Homes, The Unfolding
  41. Joshua Ferris, A Calling For Charlie Barnes
  42. Sara Gruen, Water For Elephants
  43. Karl Ove Knausgaard, Autumn
  44. Ann Patchett, Tom Lake
  45. Sam Wasson and Jeanine Basinger, Hollywood: An Oral History
  46. David Wondrich, Imbibe!
  47. Dale Peck, The Garden of Lost and Found*
  48. Judd Apatow, Sicker In The Head
  49. Guy Maddin, My Winnipeg*
  50. Kenneth Womack, Solid State
  51. Paul Murray, The Bee Sting
  52. Maria Bamford, Sure, I’ll Join Your Cult
  53. Don Lee, Lonesome Lies Before Us
  54. Matt Singer, Opposable Thumbs
  55. Stanley Elkin, Criers and Kibitzers, Kibitzers and Criers
  56. Werner Herzog, Every Man For Himself and God Against All
  57. Evelyn McDonnell, The World According to Joan Didion
  58. Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem*
  59. Zadie Smith, The Fraud

Best Albums of 2023: # 5 – 1

Chris KriofskeLeave a comment

5. Emm Gryner, Business & Pleasure

Gryner purposely set out to make a “Yacht-Rock”-inspired record and fully understood the assignment, working with veterans of the constituted-after-the-fact genre (more of a feeling, really) and constructing songs harkening back to another era while somehow remaining contemporary in their outlook (more like timeless, actually.) So, if “Loose Wig” and “Burn The Boats” recall Steely Dan, and “Jack” is in sync with Toto and “The Chance” references Christopher Cross’ “Ride Like The Wind”, her resilience and the newfound joy her craft exudes prevents them from serving as mere homages; as a matter-of-fact, they also sound like Emm Gryner songs—melodic, inviting, yearning and effervescent.

4. Romy, Mid-Air

I was hoping for a good debut solo album from this vocalist of The xx but honestly wasn’t expecting one this good: diving headfirst into electronic dance music (particularly diva house), she manages to sound cool, calm and collected as ever while simultaneously like she’s having the time of her life. Full of paeans to same-sex lust and love, it also liberates her from her past poker-faced ambiguity. On “Enjoy Your Life”, she turns a basic three-word cliche into a code to live by and in turn, a means of salvation, while on the insistent “She’s On My Mind”, her declarations of desire blossom, build and gradually turn euphoric.

3. The Clientele, I Am Not There Anymore

I fell in love with this mostly-active-in-the-00’s indie British trio on their 2017 return, Music For The Age of Miracles, which became of one my favorites of that decade. On this follow up, they reprise their trademark autumnal chamber pop but suffuse it with more instrumental segues and spoken-word tone poems and even some subtle electronics. Stunning opener “Fables Of The Silverlink” serves as an overture with melodies and motifs reappearing throughout the rest of the album, which soon emerges as a complex, hour-long song cycle about childhood memory and infringing mortality. If that sounds intimidating and arty, it’s just as often embracing as on the crisp, clear pop of “Blue Over Blue” or the absorbing, Middle Eastern-accented “Dying In May”. 

2. Everything But The Girl, Fuse

Sonically, this picks right up where their last record, 1999’s Temperamental left off, but only to a point. In the interim, Ben Watt and Tracey Thorn both released multiple solo efforts, some of them pretty accomplished ones, so it follows that this return conveys maturity and wisdom gleaned since then. Although predominantly electronic, these ten songs are encouragingly evolutionary, alternating bangers like “Nothing Left To Lose” and “Caution to The Wind” with more atmospheric, delicate stuff such as “Run A Red Light” with its enthralling sense of space and reverberating piano chords.  Thorn’s vocals are also occasionally adjusted and enhanced, revealing new shadings as applied to lyrics charting the passage of time and a tenuous future—perhaps, not so tenuous; is this the beginning of a superb second act?

1. Corinne Bailey Rae, Black Rainbows

Best known for her 2006 hit “Put Your Records On”, this Brit’s released only three more albums since that year’s self-titled debut; each one has revealed depth and exhibited growth beyond that pleasant single but her first effort in seven years is something else. Expertly swerving between genres and tones, it’s a tour de force whether essaying Afro-futurism (“Earthlings” beats early Janelle Monae at her own game), heavy, insistent thrash rock (!) (“Erasure”, “New York Transit Queen”), Laura Nyro-esque balladry (!!) (“Peach Velvet Sky”), creeping exotica that turns on a dime into Prince-worthy psychedelia (“He Will Follow You With His Eyes”) or a heady, multipart groove workout (“Put It Down”). Inspired by her residency at Chicago’s Stony Island Arts Bank, Black Rainbows is unwavering in ambition and breathtaking in scope. Although very much its own thing, taking it all in, I can’t help but compare it to another groundbreaking fourth album by one of my favorite artists (whom I could even imagine covering the crystalline “Red Horse”.)

Best Albums of 2023: # 10 – 6

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10. Sparks, The Girl Is Crying In Her Latte

If ever an act was perfectly positioned for a victory lap, it’s the venerable duo of Russell and Ron Mael, more in the spotlight than ever thanks to Edgar Wright’s documentary about them and their divisive musical film Annette. It also doesn’t hurt that this delectably-titled 25th (!) studio album catalogs all of their strengths while continuing to reveal new hues in their art-pop palette, including the anthemic (and typically snarky) “Nothing As Is Good As They Say It Is” and also “It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way”, a lovely summation of the brothers’ philosophy without the snark. Maybe their best since Lil’ Beethoven?

9. Robert Forster, The Candle and The Flame

Forster’s fourth album since Grant McLennan (his partner in The Go-Betweens) passed is his quietest and most domestic-focused, even if all of it apart from opener “She’s A Fighter” preceded his wife’s cancer diagnosis (update: she’s still fighting it.) One expects such maturity and taking stock from a 65-year-old, although Forster was already doing so (rather brilliantly) nearly twenty years ago on Oceans Apart. These nine observations are all of a piece, but “Tender Years” is the key: “See how far we’ve come”, he poignantly sings, and he’s earned the gravitas for it to really mean something.

8. Slowdive, everything is alive

After a solid, self-titled reunion album six years ago, this iconic 90s shoegaze band is consistent as ever but with a hunger to reassess and evolve. The dominance of electronics (nearly half the songs are built on synth riffs) sets it apart from all their past work without obscuring the elements that made them Slowdive. Those tired of waiting for another Cure album may find “kisses” a more-than-adequate substitute; still, alternating the poppier stuff with a pastoral instrumental (“prayer remembered”) and slow-building, eventually shimmering rave-ups like “shanty” and “the slab”, they prove nearly as vital in 2023 as they did with 1993’s Souvlaki.

7. Christine and The Queens, Paranoia, Angels, True Love

Leave it to this oddball to attempt an honest-to-god triple album in the streaming era (although at 97 minutes, it could’ve been a double). Having come out as trans-masculine last year, Chris (formerly Héloïse Letissier) nearly goes for broke with an Angels In America-inspired concept LP about shifting identities, spiritual yearning and god knows what else. He seems determined not to repeat himself and everything from the discordant, eleven-minute “Track 10” (actually Track 7) to the lovely, simple “Flowery Days” not only suggests new, intriguing directions but a passion for development and growth which, four albums in, is timed just right.

6. Jessie Ware, That! Feels Good!

I don’t envy Ware the task of having to follow up the exceptional What’s Your Pleasure?; her fifth album is more a lateral move than any attempt to top it. Leaning further into the hedonistic pleasures of disco and dancefloor soul, it may come off as a little expedient at times—little here matches last year’s glorious, pre-album single “Free Yourself”, although the samba-inflected “Begin Again” comes close. Regardless, Ware’s effusiveness nearly saves the day whether she’s indulging in a parade of double-entendres (“Shake The Bottle”) or easing on down the road towards some kind of unabashed bliss (“These Lips”, “Hello Love”).

Best Albums of 2023: # 15 – 11

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15. Jamila Woods, Water Made Us

The succinct, Neneh Cherry-worthy “Tiny Garden” is one of this year’s best singles, but Woods’ third album offers a lot more to love. Reallocating her focus from the cultural essaying of 2019’s LEGACY! LEGACY! towards the intimacy and fragility of relationships, she tempers her alternative R&B/folk with nifty poetic interludes (“I Miss All My Exes”, “Let The Cards Fall”) and simple hooks that exude restraint but also undeniable pleasure (“Practice”, “Boomerang”). While not necessarily an innovator nor yet an icon, her natural talent and deeply felt point of view are in ample supply.

14. The Tubs, Dead Meat

For sure, the vocalist bears a heavy resemblance to Richard Thompson but within thirty seconds of rousing opener “Illusion pt. II” it’s obvious this foursome is no mere homage or tribute act; their welcoming melodies, intricate guitar lines and rarely obvious chord changes all sound effortless like good pop music should but seldom does. I suppose one could argue the originality of things like the spiky riffs of “Sniveller” which conjure up postpunk to a degree bands like Franz Ferdinand have been trading in for decades now, but that doesn’t render it any less of a thrill to hear.

13. Sufjan Stevens, Javelin

Not a return-to-form in the style of Carrie and Lowell, just as that record wasn’t one in relation to Seven Swans. Apart from the uninspired, simplistic lyrics of 2020’s The Ascension, he has never been one to rest on his laurels; what makes Javelin so intriguing is in how it resolutely sounds like a Sufjan Stevens LP while also a push forward to reassess and explore what that means in 2023 (and beyond.) Knowledge that it’s a tribute to a recently deceased partner adds unignorable context but even without that news, this shows him refusing to be complacent and remaining engaged with wherever his muse(s) take him.

12. Alex Lahey, The Answer Is Always Yes

What can you do after two ten-track, near-perfect power/punk-pop albums? Logically, you’d shoot for a third, but on her first release in four years, this Aussie singer/songwriter takes a slightly different approach, opting for more looseness and impulsivity on introspective, pandemic-era observations like “Permanent” and “The Sky is Melting”. Rest assured, she still brings the hooks (the latter’s ascendant chorus is one of her best) and her never-wavering sense of economy, but from “Good Time” to “Shit Talkin’”, she’s refining her craft while never obscuring a sense of who she is, which is no small feat.

11. Mitski, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We

She nearly turned into a more elusive Pat Benatar over her increasingly slick past two records (note: this was not a good thing), so her about-face here is a bit of a relief. It also reminds me of the similar shift Sam Phillips made on Fan Dance two decades ago but far less minimalist, employing choirs and strings, pedal steel guitar and more atmosphere than those last two albums together offered. “My Love Mine All Mine” is one of the least likely fueled-by-Tik Tok crossover hits and that it could’ve easily happened to any of these 11 tracks reveals this collection’s consistency.

Best Albums of 2023: # 20 – 16

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20. Yves Tumor, Praise a Lord Who Chews but Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds)

According to my Spotify “Wrapped” for this year, my favorite genre was “Art Pop”; thus, it seems right to kick this countdown off with something fully of that description, near Fiona Apple-length LP title and all. I highlighted effusive single “Echolalia” in my mid-year report, but Sean Lee Bowie’s fifth album under this moniker is often as catchy as it weird, spiced with vintage samples, shape-shifting song structures and in “Operator”, a cheerleader chant previously adopted/rendered demented by Faith No More three decades ago (and in this artist’s hands, just as effectively today.)

19. Meg Baird, Furling

I felt moved to hear this after Dusted Magazine praised it mid-year and opener “Ashes, Ashes” registered with me in no time. A languorous six-minute comedown of wordless sighs over a piano-and-rhythm-with-vibes vamp, it’s a perfect mood-setter for this gentle, gauzy, occasionally devastating folk opus. Like The Sundays’ Harriet Wheeler, Baird’s breathiness and cheery but sustaining high tone contrast skillfully with the minor chord progressions and pastoral acoustic settings. An affable companion to my top album of last year, Beth Orton’s Weather Alive.

18. Paul Simon, Seven Psalms

Five years into his retirement from touring, octogenarian Simon made an unexpected return with a record unlike anything else he’s done: a 33-minute song cycle inspired by the Book of Psalms featuring seven movements and released both physically and digitally as one unbroken track. Potentially a challenging listen for those looking for another addition to the man’s voluminous songbook, it’s also a reminder of his innate talent, with both words and music continually revealing nuance and something approaching enlightenment on each listen. If this proves his final word, it’s one of his most profound.

17. The National, Laugh Track

I am among those wondering why these Dad Rock Gods opted to put out two albums six months apart this year instead one killer release. First Two Pages of Frankenstein hit my honorable mentions list (“Tropic Morning News” might end up their deserved legacy hit) but I’ve come to prefer Laugh Track for being a bit roomier and also a whole lot more ambitious. The seven-minute “Space Invader” with its thunderous coda is the peak, but diversions on either side of it (a Bon Iver duet; scrappy, improvised closer “Smoke Detector”) make the case that these are much better than mere leftovers.

16. Meshell Ndegeocello, The Omnichord Real Book

Thirty years on from her debut album (and nearly ten since her last set of original songs), Ndegeocello returns with a lengthy, typically genre-averse collection. Although the titular electronic instrument is present throughout, it is but one ingredient in a blend of soul, funk, jazz, folk and rock that no matter how spacy or boundary pushing rarely drifts off into the ether or loses focus. She’s endured as an artist not only for her capacity to explore but also for her ability to connect, a distinction that often separates a legend from a flash-in-the-pan.

Best Albums of 2023: Honorable Mentions

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Regarding my favorite music this year, I’m counting down a Top 20 Albums list (instead of my usual Top 10 or 15) over the next few days. I wouldn’t say that I was necessarily more engaged with new music compared to past years, but I can’t deny the effort I put into looking for it. Spotify provides numerous paths towards finding it (particularly through its personalized “Discover Weekly” playlists) and naturally not everything clicks (I made it one-and-a-half songs through that much-praised Wednesday album before moving on.) To stumble upon a great new song/album or for longtime artists to seemingly emerge with one out of the blue is what keeps me stimulated and also motivated in the pursuit of more.

Here are some albums that didn’t make my Top 20 but are still worth further delving into (with a few footnotes):

  • Boygenius, The Record
  • Caroline Polachek, Desire, I Want To Turn Into You
  • The Coral, Sea of Mirrors*
  • Depeche Mode, Memento Mori**
  • Fever Ray, Radical Romantics
  • Jake Shears, Last Man Dancing
  • Jungle, Volcano
  • Kara Jackson, Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love?*
  • Kate NV, WOW
  • Kylie Minogue, Tension
  • MAN ON MAN, Provincetown
  • Metric, Formentera II
  • The National, First Two Pages of Frankenstein
  • Peter Gabriel, i/o***
  • PJ Harvey, I Inside The Old Year Dying
  • Shamir, Homo Anxietatem
  • Troye Sivan, Something To Give Each Other
  • US Girls, Bless This Mess

*Seriously considered placing these two in the Top 20.

**Entirely, unexpectedly their best in over two decades for what it’s worth.

***This came out on 12/1, so I may need more time to absorb it (even if it was released track-by-track throughout the year.)