Welcome back to Band Practice where we’re kicking off another year of great music! If you recall this time last year, we are currently in a bit of a dead zone for new releases. Artists generally shy away from putting out albums in December and January, mainly because of the holidays but also because it’s a deep void of darkness bereft of joy and warmth (kidding! but it is). Over the next few weeks, we’ll see new releases trickling in (Kali Uchis just dropped another album and Sleater-Kinney has one coming next week that I’m looking forward to). In the meantime, I’m going to focus on sharing more 2023 favorites that deserve a listen. On deck are new albums from Gina Birch, Chris Stapleton, and André 3000, but first—since we have some newcomers—some notes about this newsletter and what to expect this year.
To reintroduce myself, I am a nearing-the-hill millennial living in Portland, Oregon with my partner of 10 years. We no longer have any pets but have lots of plants and a pair of hummingbirds that frequent our feeder that I feel a strong obligation towards. I write this newsletter for fun and because I want to keep improving my craft (hence the “practice” in Band Practice). I started writing it because anything and everything about music makes me feel alive and I wanted to put something out there in the world that helped me express that. I also wanted to create a community to philosophically “jam” with over music, so I’m really glad that you’re here.
My taste in music is diverse and eclectic. I listen to almost everything and have written about pop, alternative, country, worldwide, R&B, hip-hop, etc., etc., etc. So I hope this year—no matter what you listen to—you’ll find something here to enjoy.
This newsletter is still in its baby (or perhaps toddler) stages. I’ve been writing for a little over a year and a half now and I’m still playing around with formats and conventions. One change you may notice if you have been around for a while is how I’m crediting the albums. Every music publication does it a little differently (colons, dashes, quotes) but colons are gross and commas confound me, so henceforth the artist’s name will be listed first followed by an em dash and the album’s title in italics.
I would also like to change up the content more this year. I still plan on sending out two issues every month (expect them on Fridays). At least one will be dedicated to new releases, but I’m going to try some new things with the second issue. I might write about older favorites (like the formative albums issue I did last year), share my seasonal playlists, dive into some music history, or some other fun ideas I’ve been cooking up. No matter what it is, my music choices will remain eclectic and worth your time.
One thing I would love to continue is the reader recommendations feature. If you’re not familiar, I’m always seeking album recommendations. The best way to share them with me is to send me a direct email at bandpracticenewsletter@gmail.com. You can also reply to any of these emails or leave a comment in Substack. If you recommend an album and I love it, I may ask you to share a little bit about it in a future issue (optional, of course). It doesn’t have to be something that was released this year—anything you’re excited about that you think I should give a listen. Was there an album that wowed you recently? An old favorite that you think should be required listening? Send your suggestions my way.
One last thing before we get into the “meat:” In January of last year I made a poll asking if you listened to any 2022 albums I recommended, and this year I would love to know if you listened to any of my 2023 recommendations. You can vote in the poll by clicking the thingy below.
Ok, let’s get to it!
Intro
Art is not created in a vacuum. It is a product of our surroundings—the people and places that have influenced us and shaped us. Each of the albums I chose to write about this week are solo releases from artists who used to perform in a group (or several) at one point. As I listened to these albums, I couldn’t help but think about how their time in those groups shaped them into the artists they are today. I believe they played a crucial part in each artist’s growth.
There are some obvious connections. Gina Birch’s album contains threads back to her time in the experimental post-punk band The Raincoats, as well as the other projects she was a part of. And though he has been performing solo for a while now, Chris Stapleton’s bluegrass and rock roots from his days in The SteelDrivers and The Jompson Brothers remain present in his new album. But even André 3000’s shift into ambient jazz can be traced back to his time as part of the hip-hop duo Outkast. I don’t think he would have been able to make New Blue Sun without performing with Outkast first. Each artist needed these experiences to get to where they are today. They needed encouragement to be the outspoken, experimental, and grounded artists that you hear on the following albums.
The people around us shape who we are—as artists, and as people. I invite you to ask yourself (and I ask this of myself, too): What kind of an artist (or person) are the people around you preparing you to become?
This week’s must-listen
Gina Birch — I Play My Bass Loud
Alternative [Released 2/24/23]
Gina Birch is still the coolest person in the room. As a post-punk pioneer who has influenced artists like Kurt Cobain and Sonic Youth, she needs no further credentials to establish that she’s a badass. Her decades in the music business have honed her talent and given her an enviable self-confidence. She’s the kind of person I want to be when I grow up (more up, I mean. Yes, I’m almost 40 but I still feel like a wee babe): an unapologetic punk feminist at the top of her game.
Birch formed the all-female, British post-punk band The Raincoats with Ana da Silva in the late seventies, where she sang and played bass. She then went on to play with experimental group Red Crayola, and subsequently formed a handful of other bands. I Play My Bass Loud is her first release as a solo artist. Though it has the finesse of a consummate professional, it contains a fresh spirit and ingenuity that harkens back to her days in The Raincoats. It is the product of artistic evolution over almost five decades of music and is—as the Brits say—bloody brilliant.
The album draws on a wide range of influences. “Digging Down” veers into reggae and “Pussy Riot” makes use of hip-hop-style hi-hats and a dancehall chorus. In the title track, “I Play My Bass Loud,” she proves that a rain stick can be edgy, in an (unsurprisingly) bass-driven funk hybrid of a song. Its pogoing beat and easy feel make it a highlight on the album. In “I Wish I Was You,” she does the 1990s rock revival sound better than the kids are attempting these days—probably because she lived it. Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth lends scratchy electric guitar to the track, as Birch taunts, “I used to wish I was you / now you wish you were me.”1
The album is overtly feminist with several anthems dedicated to the subject. I’m sure she has lived through her fair share of sexist bullshit in the music industry (not to mention life) and the bullshit is still very much prevalent. In a post-Roe world where violence and inequities still abound and, for example, the highest-grossing film of the year is reduced to a boob joke on national television because it’s centered around a woman—yes, feminism still matters. Which is why when she sings, “So when you ask me if I’m a feminist, I say, ‘Why the hell would I not be?’” in “Feminist Song,” it is easy to agree with her.
In my favorite track, “I Will Never Wear Stillettos[sic]” she expands the fight to oppressive footwear. “I will not wear stilettos,” she sings, spitting out her words like she is scraping every bit of saliva out of her mouth, whilst dropkicking Jimmy Choos into the abyss. The attitude is palpable, the beat is right, and there’s a playfulness reminiscent of her early experimental days while still being grounded in seasoned musicianship.
Birch’s decades of experience as an artist—and as a woman who no longer gives any fucks—has led to a triumph of an album that I hope inspires new generations. Her confidence, at the least, has inspired me. “Time has carried me forward / now I’m happy with me,” she sings in “I Wish I Was You.” Yes. Inject that into my soul.
Tracks on repeat: I Play My Bass Loud, I Am Rage, I Will Never Wear Stillettos[sic]
Available on Spotify, Apple Music, bandcamp
If you’re interested in listening to The Raincoats, I recommend starting with their self-titled debut album and then jumping to their final album ‘Moving’, to get a sense of their evolution.
Also worth a listen
Chris Stapleton — Higher
Country [Released 11/10/23]
If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while, you know that country music isn’t exactly one of my go-to music genres. I’ve recommended precisely one country album out of the however many albums I’ve written about and that was just over a year ago. I don’t have anything against the genre, I’m just particular about it—if it doesn’t sound like Dolly Parton or Johnny Cash it’s going to take some convincing to get me to like it. But when I dove into Chris Stapleton’s Higher after
gave it a shout-out in her newsletter, it was an immediate, easy sell. This album is my kind of country: soulful, with skillful songwriting, and delivered with a one-of-a-kind voice.Stapleton is well-decorated for his songwriting, and rightly so. His songs feel like timeless new classics, blending soul, blues, and rock in a way that feels natural. “The Bottom” cleverly knits lines of lyrics together along a staircase melody. “Cause the heart holds the memory / and the memory holds thе past / and the past holds the woman / at the bottom of thе glass,” he sings with his wife Morgane harmonizing along.
And then there’s “White Horse,”—a mustang of a song (and one of my top 23 of 2023). It’s a song I’m sure every country singer wishes they had written. “If you want a cowboy on a white horse / ridin’ off into the sunset / if that’s the kinda love you want to wait for / hold on tight, girl, I ain’t there yet,” Stapleton sings. The songwriting is smart with a natural ease, but it’s his voice that polishes it into diamond status. He has the kind of voice you can pick out of a lineup. Its rich, tenor gruff is unmistakable. When his voice wails and the guitars wail—everything’s wailing!—it’s easy to get swept up in.
This introduction to his music has created a new standard in my growing love of country. There is Cash, there is Parton, and now there is Stapleton.
Tracks on repeat: South Dakota, White Horse, The Bottom
Available on Spotify, Apple Music, bandcamp
André 3000 — New Blue Sun
Ambient/New Age/Spiritual Jazz [Released 11/17/23]
It is one thing to master an art form. It is another to pick up a new art form and excel at that too. You may know André 3000 as half of the defunct Southern hip-hop duo Outkast, perhaps most famous for their song, “Hey Ya!” where he gave instructions on precisely the wrong way to handle a Polaroid picture.2 With their 2003 release Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, it was clear André was starting to follow his own path, exploring his own sound. Not long after they parted ways, he decided to remove himself from the rap game, moving in a completely new direction. New Blue Sun is his immersion into ambient, flute-driven jazz—a move that has had fans and critics buzzing. It would be easy to understand if the album was a flop, but it is actually, maddeningly good.
The album is meditative and full of transformation. Yes, most of it is serene—with chimes, wooshing synths, and whisper-soft woodwinds along with André’s arsenal of flutes. But there are also (subtle) stormy moments such as in “BuyPoloDisorder’s Daughter…” that indicate he is going through some things. He is coming into his own as a new kind of artist, and he takes us on that journey—through the calm and the tumult.
In this transformation, he doesn’t leave everything in his past behind. There are elements that still feel like hip-hop, even though the album contains nothing overtly so. The album’s opener, “I swear, I Really Wanted To Make A ‘Rap’ Album But This Is Literally The Way The Wind Blew Me This Time,” is a bridge between old and new modalities.3 It’s as much of a banger as an ambient, new-wave, flute-driven song can get, but there are hints of his Outkast spirit. There are no familiar elements like bass and drums, but you can intuit a strong beat. The swag is still there.
In this new chapter of his musicianship, André allowed himself to, as he stated, “go where the wind blew him” and explore something new. To produce something this refined in his first attempt makes me look forward to his continued growth as an artist.
Tracks on repeat: This is not that kind of album. Just press play and let it take you where you need to go.
Available on Spotify, Apple Music
Coming up
There are lots of exciting releases coming up this year. To name a few, I’m looking forward to albums from The Smile, IDLES, The Jesus and Mary Chain, HAIM, and Dua Lipa, and I hope and pray that this will be the year that Beyoncé gives us Act II of her Renaissance trilogy. I’ll keep you updated on all of my favorites. Make sure you’re subscribed so you don’t miss any of it.
The playlist!
I keep a running playlist of my favorite songs from every new album I listen to throughout the year (one each). Last year I included songs from older albums, but this year it will be 2024 albums only. I’m going to wait to share the new playlist until I’ve made it through a good chunk of 2024 releases, so I’ve included the 2023 playlist in the meantime if you’d like to revisit it. It’s almost a day’s worth of music, ordered chronologically by date listened. The batch that corresponds with this week’s issue (towards the end) starts with “Bury me” by PinkPantheress. Highlights include “Zoetrope” by classical composer Akira Kosemura and “ETA” by KPop girl group NewJeans.
Albums of 2023 - Apple Music playlist
Albums of 2023 - Spotify playlist
I love hearing what you have to say! If you have feelings about this issue, questions for me, album recommendations, or any other thoughts, send them my way by leaving a comment or replying to this email. You can also reach me at bandpracticenewsletter@gmail.com
What’s cooler than being cool?
Does this song make anyone else think of “Cannonball” by The Breeders?
When “Hey Ya” came out, my mom told me that I would remember where I was when I first heard it because it was such a huge phenomenon. While I don’t remember exactly where I was, it instantly transports me to my freshman-year dorm room at college, listening repetitively between plays of Britney Spears’s “Toxic.”
“I swear…” is the longest song to chart the Billboard Hot 100 at 12 minutes and 20 seconds (and possibly the one with the longest title, but I can’t confirm).
Beebe, I'm still crushing hard on the Sufjan album you clued me on to. Thank you! Also, CAN. NOT. WAIT. for the Slaeter-Kinney album!