Taylor Swift's Tone Poem, Charley Crockett Gets Soul, Pearl Jam Aims To Please

Plus, St. Vincent, Ace's excellent comp on Philly Soul drummer Earl Young and Billy Idol

Taylor Swift—The Tortured Poets Department (2023)

In the thick of promoting a (very good) new Pet Shop Boys album, Neil Tennant posed a reasonable question: "What's Taylor Swift's 'Billie Jean'?" 

Certainly, Taylor's "Billie Jean" is nowhere to be found on The Tortured Poets Department, an album designed to thrive on siloed streaming services, particularly in the unforgiving sprawl of its 31-song "Anthology" incarnation. There are melodies, even pulsating hooks, scattered through The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology but they get lost within the swirl of hushed synths and steady tempos all giving a sense of stagnancy. That listlessness is something of an illusion, accentuated by the slight curdling of the collaboration between Swift and producer Jack Antonoff; they know all each other's tricks and aren't especially concerned about learning new ones. The familiarity winds up being something of an asset, drawing attention to Swift's artful exaggerations and clever self-satire; the purple prose plays differently when sung, as she makes it clear where her punchlines lie.

It's easier to appreciate The Tortured Poets Department if is Anthology iteration is tabled for a future date; aside from the carefully-rendered "The Black Dog," these extra songs tarnish the mood of the original 16 songs, playing like the kind of afterthoughts and outtakes that are best kept in the vault. The proper album—which is still plenty long at 16 songs that run over an hour—does have a specific dramatic arc, tracing the lifespan of a doomed relationship. The songs may be littered with easter eggs for Stans but Swift is too smart a songwriter to simply transpose her journal into song; this is fiction, not autobiography. And, like so many tone pieces, it benefits from being heard at the right time and mood, when its inherent stillness can envelop and not alienate.

Charley Crockett—$10 Cowboy (2023)

The hardest-working musician in Americana ventures into new territory with $10 Cowboy. Broadening his purview far beyond Texas country, Charley Crockett anchors this sequel to 2022's excellent The Man From Waco with a deep Southern soul groove. Crockett's brand of country still seems distinctly mid-century modern—he's as enamored with the sound of old records as he is the songs—which ultimately means his records are tighter, leaner and better than many of his peers…particularly when they have such a thick, sultry sound like this. One of my favorite albums of 2024. (My Allmusic review.)

Pearl Jam—Dark Matter (2023)

Say this for Pearl Jam: they've made it a habit of avoiding the easy road. Their adherence to byways makes Dark Matter something of a shock, as it not only returns the band to their anthemic essence, it does so with a shiny smile courtesy of producer Andrew Watt. Dark Matter belongs in a line of Watt productions that includes recent records by the Rolling Stones, Ozzy Osbourne, and Iggy Pop, each one designed to evoke the artist's classic period while still sounding clean, crisp, and new. Generally, these albums have hit the mark for me and Dark Matter isn't an exception although it's the first Watt production where I hear some strains in the foundation. Maybe it's because Pearl Jam is the kind of band that thrives upon messiness and Watt's tidiness doesn't quite suit their inherent temperament. Even with these lingering doubts, Dark Matter is a hard record to dislike because it's made by a band that, for whatever reason, is suddenly eager to please.  (More at Allmusic.)

St. Vincent—All Born Screaming (2023)

St. Vincent severs her alliance with Jack Antonoff to produce All Born Screaming on her lonesome, a perhaps necessary reaction to the overcooked Daddy's Home. Antonoff may not be around by Annie Clark isn't on her own: Cate Le Bon co-writes the slippery title track, Dave Grohl drums on "Broken Man" and "Flea," Josh Freese drums on a couple of other cuts, while bassist Justin Meldal-Johnsen serves as the record's connective thread. Not quite abandoning the grand pop machinations of Masseduction, Clark certainly relishes reviving her artier inclinations, placing an emphasis on off-kilter arrangements over melody. The shift in focus gives All Born Screaming an immediacy that counteracts how the album doesn't quite offer new tricks; it's a record of refinement, not exploration. Coming after the hammy '70s fantasia of Daddy's Home, such a return feels welcome. 

Waxahatchee—Tigers Blood (2023)

Katie Crutchfield shares this one thing with Charley Crockett: they both benefit from working live in the studio. Crutchfield maintained her bond with producer Brad Cook on Waxahatchee's Tigers Blood, bringing guitarist MJ Lenderman and drummer Spencer Tweedy into the Sonic Ranch to make a record whose warmth doesn't suffocate Crutchfield's idiosyncracies as a songwriter.  (More at Allmusic.)

Groove Machine: The Earl Young Drum Sessions (2024; 1965-1977)

Earl Young underpinned The Sound of Philadelphia, effectively serving as the house drummer for both Philadelphia International Records and Salsoul Records. Young helped shape the sound of Philly soul in the 1960s, too, playing and singing with the Volcanos, the group that later became the Trammps. That group is featured on the opening track of Kent/Ace's Groove Machine: The Earl Young Drum Sessions, a 23-track compilation that focuses squarely on the 1970s, the decade when Young helped create the rhythms that propelled disco in its heyday. He unveiled his spangly, insistent style on Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes's "The Love I Lost (Part 1)," the seminal disco single that arrives about halfway through Groove Machine. By that point, the comp has already set the stage with the Trammps's 1975 medley of "Penguin at the Big Apple/Zing! Went the Strings of My Heart" then went backwards a decade to "Storm Warning," a 1965 side by the Volcanos. The first part of the collection shows how Young's bold swing helped guide Philly soul toward the oversized pulse of disco and once that style arrives, Groove Machine rides that groove until its conclusion, balancing such commonly-acknowledged classics as the Three Degrees' "The Sound of Philadelphia" and New York City's "I'm Doing Fine Now" with Charles Mann's dexterous disco revision of Steely Dan's "Do It Again." Having Young as the throughline in this set means that Groove Machine does indeed deliver on its titular promise: all the shimmering surfaces are underpinned by high-octane rhythms that are as funky as they are slick. 

Billy Idol—Rebel Yell [40th Anniversary Edition] (2023; 1984)

Good lord was this guy a goofball.  (More at Allmusic)