O - R
A rash of AINO (Atmos-In-Name-Only) mixes in this batch, which is to say: immersive in the broadest, sometimes only the technical, sense of the word, yet not really taking full advantage of what the format offers. A couple of them, like Pat Metheny’s light-but-pleasant
Moondial and Ryuichi Sakamoto’s poignant
Opus, are built around solo acoustic instruments, so…waddyagonnado? But more often what I’m seeing—hearing—is variations on a template consisting of a 5.1 bed with vocals across the fronts and front-to-back separation ranging anywhere from minimal to highly discrete, then next-to-nothing (silence, reverb, faint or not-so-faint doubling or selective doubling) in the heights, sometimes only the front heights. And that includes mixes in both my “reject” and “keep” piles.
First, the AINO keepers:
Peso Pluma,
Éxodo: double album whose first disc is “folkloric” (neo-corrido) and second, “urban” (primarily rap and reggaeton). On Disc 1, especially, the mixer employs a weird effect where one instrument (trombone, guitar) rotates or bounces diagonally around the room while the rest of the (discrete 5.1) mix stays put.
Phosphorescent,
Revelator: stirring, symphonic indie-Americana, with shades (for me) of Lambchop and Nashville-era Dylan.
Porridge Radio,
Clouds in the Sky They Will Always Be There for Me: fabulous tunes that press all my indie-rock buttons; sorry to hear they’re breaking up (when I only just learned about 'em!).
Ron Miles,
Old Main Chapel: a lovely last testament to a sweet man and an unsung jazz giant. It’s a live recording (with Miles’s fellow Coloradans Bill Frisell and Rudy Royston), and it’s on Blue Note. Just so you don’t expect much, surround-wise.
And then the Atmos/AINO discards. I’m a fan of both Pat Metheny and the late-great Ryuichi Sakamoto, but
Moondial and
Opus are both inessential releases, IMO. I would also toss: Omar Courtz’s
Primera Musa (who will rid me of this plague of autotuned chanting over skittery beats?), Opeth’s
The Last Will and Testament (prog-metal is just not my jam), Orla Gartland’s
Everybody Needs a Hero (intelligent, sometimes spiky, indiepop that’s a
little too determined to be clever), Pet Shop Boys’
Nonetheless (not a fan, so no comment), Rachel Chinouriri’s
What a Devastating Turn of Events (smarter than your average indie singer-songwriter, but not enough to truly stand out from the crowd), Rae Khalil’s
Crybaby (pleasant, proficient, but ultimately run-of-the-mill neo-soul laden with self-help messages), Remi Wolf’s
Big Ideas (bubblebum-adjacent, but far from mindless, pop, and yet…see Rachel Chinouriri, above), Residente,
Las Letres Ya No Importan (generically wide-ranging “Latino urbano,” but still not quite my thing).
On the stereo tip, I liked Ruth Goller’s
Skyllumina (eerie soundscapes and “demented nursery rhymes”—the
Guardian's words—from the virtuosic nu-jazz bassist). And I
really liked:
- Previous Industries, Service Merchandise (supertalented Black-nerd trio led by Open Eagle Mike, with chill beats and esoteric samples worthy of Prince Paul; see this sympathetic review at Pitchfork)
- Rafael Toral, Spectral Evolution (47-minute drone/ambient outing with high-register low-brass jazz and electronic birdsong & coyote howls)
- Rosie Tucker, Utopia Now! (blunt, blasé, and smart-ass—another spiritual granddaughter of Liz Phair)
- Rufous Nightjar, Songs for Three Voices (stunning modern-day retro-folk ballads in 3-part harmony; the Dolby Surround Upmixer does amazing things with it)
dden;background:transparent;" sandbox="allow-forms allow-popups allow-same-origin allow-scripts allow-storage-access-by-user-activation allow-top-navigation-by-user-activation" src="
