Green Day- Saviors (Reprise)
On their fourteenth LP, the modern punk legends sound their most energetically uproarious and topically potent since the 2000s landmark pairing of American Idiot and 21st Century Breakdown, much of which can likely be attributed to their reunion here with producer Rob Cavallo, who returns to the dashboard for the first time since the Uno! Dos! Tres! trio of 2012. Billie Jo Armstrong and company certainly hadn’t lost their classic attitudinal vigor during those intervening years, however there’s no denying that they sound newly refocused, concise, and passionate with Cavallo at the helm. The increasingly cultural nature of the times certainly informs this spirit as well. Again, they’ve never stopped paying attention to current events in their music, but not since Idiot or Breakdown have they waxed political with as much forceful bite or pointed reflection as they do here on tracks like “The American Dream Is Killing Me”, “Coma City”, “Strange Days Are Here to Stay”, and “Living in the ’20s”. Saviors isn’t merely a conceptual exercise however; the band still makes time for romantic despair, battles with internal demons, comedically morbid takes on mental health and failed life aspirations, and an ode to parenthood in “Father to a Son”, which recalls the evocative tenderness of the “Good Riddance” era. Through it all, they maintain the balance of aggressive punk swagger, accessible pop-rock contagion, and relatable common-man accessibility that always defined the band’s work during their peak-power years. It makes Saviors both a bold statement and entertaining sonic experience, and Green Day’s most memorably great album in a decade and a half.
Sarah Jarosz- Polaroid Lovers (Rounder)
Opening with the soft sparkle of piano keys and the lilting folk-pop polish of lead single, “Jealous Moon”, Polaroid Lovers puts us immediately on notice that Sarah Jarosz’ seventh record has traveled a considerable distance from the mountainous bluegrass and stripped folk trappings of her previous work. Teaming with producer Daniel Tashian for the first time, it’s not unlike the lush aesthetic reset that he famously oversaw on Kacey Musgraves’ Golden Hour; it may further diversify Jarosz’s stylistic vision but it does nothing to rob her of her core artistic identity or integrity. Her stunning pipes are crystalline and resonant in any sonic setting, and her intelligent songwriting is unflinching on plentiful collaborations with other ace scribes including Natalie Hemby, Jon Randall, Ruston Kelly, Sarah Buxton, and Tashian himself. Long-time Jarosz followers and roots purists may raise their eyebrows at the muted emphasis on acoustic instruments, but the standard of musicianship is as high as before, boasting a tastefully rollicking electric jangle that wondrously recalls radio-era Mary Chapin Carpenter. Polaroid Lovers is a vibrant and rewarding evolution of an artist, not to mention an inspired reflection of the contrasting highs and lows of a relationship tested by time. It’s a certifiable gem, and more than lives up to the respected standards set by Jarosz’s preceding albums.
John Leventhal- Rumble Strip (Thirty Tigers)
Heretofore, John Leventhal has built a prolific career as one of the most prominent names lurking in the shadows of the rock, country, and Americana scenes. For decades on end, he’s been a songwriter, producer, and session musician playing a pivotal role in the careers of artists ranging from Shawn Colvin to Marc Cohn, and primarily for the past two as an artistic compass during the thrilling legacy arc of wife Rosanne Cash’s musical story. And yet, Rumble Strip serves as his first official album at the tender age of 71, and this (mostly) instrumental showcase unfolds as a beautiful showcase of not just Leventhal’s technical musical prowess, but the rich and diversely atmospheric musical vision that has kept his understated magic in such demand all these years. Far more than a mere “guitar album”, Strip is an all-out tapestry of musical wonder that runs the gamut of tender poignancy, bluesy mystery, and folksy whimsy. Two of the three vocal tracks, “That’s All I Know About Arkansas” and “If You Only Knew” find Cash joining her husband for some swampy duets that reaffirm what a power-couple they’ve become in the roots universe. Strip remains however a statement of Leventhal’s power as a frontman, and he confirms that reach throughout every moment of the record. It leaves the listener wondering why he took so long, and hoping that there’s more to come.
Sleater-Kinney- Little Rope (Loma Vista)
The eleventh studio album from the revered indie-rock duo was already well in progress when a fatal car crash claimed the lives of member Carrie Browenstein’s mother and stepfather in late 2022. The grief and shock stemming from that tragedy only further contributed to the tone of Little Rope, which was already using the bitterly raw and honest attributes of Sleater Kinney to grapple with the morose implications of the modern world we live in. Combining these even darker, reflective undertones with the brisk thirty-minute running time that has been a hallmark of latter-day SK makes this record feel like a doomed, runaway train. You can see it speeding toward a grim finale, but you can’t find the gumption to hop off due to the sheer captivation and thrill of the music. Dark and serious topics like mortality and the great duality of life are put under the microscope against a thrashing wall of guttural vocals, aggressive punk riffs, and a ravenous rock spirit. It’s utterly haunting, thrillingly seductive, and wholly cathartic on all levels.
Brittney Spencer- My Stupid Life (New Elektra)
This hopeful country hitmaker first earned industry buzz in the early days of the pandemic with a sharp batch of singles, and by later rubbing elbows with The Highwomen and Jason Isbell, and then astutely covering The Chicks. After four long years of languishing in Nashville’s frustrating new artist ecosystem, her proper debut has finally arrived. It makes no qualms about its commercial aspirations, but falls squarely on the positive side of the contemporary coin (yes, that’s still a thing..). Spencer exhibits a strong voice, a convicted POV, and the nimble ability to navigate between her country, R&B, and pop influences, not to mention pivoting between up-tempos and soaring ballads. Furthermore, she’s paired with a production team (hello again, Daniel Tashian) who finds a tasteful sonic sweet-spot that balances all of these elements. One obvious complaint is the disappointing omission of 2021’s standout single, “Sober & Skinny”, as there’s admittedly nothing as humorously fetching or gritty as that cut to be found here. Nevertheless, My Stupid Life manages to feel like a definitive Nashville product without succumbing to its assembly line nature, and introduces us to a confident voice with plenty of potential.
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