A Brief Note on Music Journalism 2024, plus POYS for 1-2024.

After the unpleasantness, Lou Reed meditates, Ethan Iverson's quiet adventure, Black Crowes reissued, Willie Nelson's 90th Birthday.

There's no way around it: this has been a dispiriting beginning of the year as far as music journalism goes.

The combination of Conde Nast merging Pitchfork into GQ, cutting away their features and news staff in the process, and the mass layoffs at the Los Angeles Times radically transforms the landscape of music coverage in 2024. There already was a paucity of editorial voices, now it's diminished even further, which serves nobody well—not readers, not writers, not musicians. 

It's still too early to understand how these losses will shape what music discovers an audience and what languishes unheard but it's clear that the entire music ecosystem will be poorer in the short term. Arts coverage needs first-hand reporting, initial reactions, breaking news stories, obituaries and trend analysis—it's how we discover music, it's how we understand its effect and power. Unlike some friends and colleagues, I don't currently have the wherewithal to eulogize Pitchfork or ponder the state of music journalism; seeing it decimated depresses me too much. I will just quote a passage Ann Powers wrote in her lament for music journalism and Pitchfork at NPR: 

In the end, what matters about music writing is exactly the same as what matters about music: It isn't leading anywhere productive. Instead, it's offering a break from the grind, a free zone for thought and a few glorious, rejuvenating moments of fun. This is a different kind of pleasure than the quick nervous kind TikTok brings, always moving on to another source of stimulus, always ratcheting up the competition for attention. Music writing says: Slow down. Pay attention. It witnesses the unfolding of meaning within measured time, and calls back to it.

I will attempt to continue to follow this ethos in my writing here and elsewhere (I'm always available for assignments if you have any to spare). As valuable as newsletters and blogging are, it's also true that editors are crucial in shaping text and ideas, making writers better. I thoroughly enjoyed working with Craig Marks at the Los Angeles Times and Jill Mapes and Ryan Dombal. I thank them and I wish them and all their colleagues well. 

Pumping On Your Stereo, January Edition:

Lou Reed—Hudson River Wind Meditations [Light in the Attic] (2007; 2024 reissue)

I missed Hudson River Wind Meditations upon its original release in 2007. I can't remember the specific reason why: could've been overly busy, could've not been in the mood to listen to an album this placid. Hudson River Wind Meditations is so still, it barely seems to move: "Move Your Heart," its opening track, conveys the sense of wind blowing across open water, a sound that's inherently undramatic. The lack of conflict stands in direct contrast to Metal Machine Music, Lou Reed's other album-length exploration of the possibilities of pure recorded sound, and there's something almost comforting in the sense that he found some measure of personal peace. Reed did intend Hudson River Wind Meditations as utilitarian music—"an adjunct to meditation, Tai Chi, and bodywork, and as music to play in the background of life," and if that doesn't make it compelling, it does serve a needed purpose: it helps conjure a sense of quiet and peace. 

The Black Crowes—Southern Harmony & Musical Companion [UME] (1992; 2023 reissue)

The apex of the Black Crowes career, The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion stripped away some lingering arena-rock affectations and ratcheted up the eccentricity that'd soon flourish as they aligned themselves with the nascent jam band scene of the 1990s. Back in 1992, the alternative scene they aligned themselves with was pitched halfway between their Georgian forefathers R.E.M. and Rod Stewart reading underground press during the heyday of the Faces—a commitment to blues and boogie that celebrated retro-affectations without quite wallowing in nostalgia. On the whole, I prefer the ludicrous hippie indulgence of the subsequent Amorica but Southern Harmony benefits from its tight focus, a concentration that extends through the bonus material of outtakes, in-studio live performances and a good show from Houston in February 1993. 

Ethan Iverson—Technically Acceptable [Blue Note] (2024)

The record I played most often in January, the second Blue Note set from pianist Ethan Iverson displays a sense of quiet experimentation and humor that's apparent in its very title: it's taken for granted that this set of far-ranging bop is more than "Technically Acceptable." Roughly divided into thirds, Technically Acceptable begins with a series of lively, lyrical performances supported by bassist Thomas Morgan and drummer Kush Abadey, originals that hint at cool jazz, classical and hard-edged soul-jazz. Iverson winds up relaxing on renditions of the standards "Killing Me Softly with His Song" and "Round Midnight," the latter graced with a theremin from Rob Schwimmer, before ending the proceedings with a three-part sonata that plays like a reflective coda. It's a dynamic set, skillfully balanced between accessibility and adventure. 

Sleater-Kinney—Little Rope [Loma Vista] (2024)

United by tragedy, Carrie Brownstein and Corin Tucker finally figure out how to move forward as a unit after the departure of Janet Weiss. My review for Allmusic. 

Green Day—Saviors [Reprise] (2024)

Underwhelmed upon my first listen—the production landed like a thud—I eventually grew to appreciate Saviors because it relies on the same strengths that have served Green Day well throughout their career: Billie Joe Armstrong writes power-pop tunes, not punk rants. My review for Allmusic.

Long Story Short: Willie Nelson 90 Live at the Hollywood Bowl [Sony] (2023)

Any star-studded celebratory concert such as the bash held at the Hollywood Bowl in the honor of Willie Nelson's 90th birthday is bound to bog down in cameos and guest-spots. So, the nice thing about Long Story Short is that Billy Strings and Charley Crockett launch it with an infectious enthusiasm that lingers long after this slides into appearances by the Avett Brothers and Nathaniel Rateliff. Fellow Texan Lyle Lovett keeps things simmering, as does Dwight Yoakam, but country crooners aren't necessarily the only ones who steal the spotlight: Dave Matthews performs a gentle, languid version of "Funny How Time Slips Away" whose understatement is especially appealing when compared to Chris Stapleton's blowsy "Always on My Mind." 

RIP Mary Weiss of the Shangri-La's

The last obit I filed for Craig Marks at the Los Angeles Times is for the lead singer of the quintessential girl group, the Shangri-La’s.