10 Debuts of Note: 2017
Debuts of Note’s second annual look at the 10 best debut albums of the year.
10. Half-Light
by Rostam
Sounds Like: A weird kaleidoscope of sounds via Animal Collective, Grizzly Bear and Spoon.
Favorite Tracks: “Bike Dream”, “Half-Light”, “Gwan”
Homebase(s): New York via Washington, D.C.
With his debut single “Bike Dream”, well-known producer (and former Vampire Weekend member) Rostam Batmanglij made clear that his debut LP would give us the truest taste of his queer lyricism and sensibilities since VW’s “Diplomat’s Son” back during the Contra-era. Not only did he deliver in that department, but his years of studio experience shine here, allowing for a subtle yet wondrous escape into a musical world all its own.
9. Please Be Mine
by Molly Burch
Sounds Like: Classic Texas r&b/twang, influenced by the Everly Brothers and Sam Cooke with a voice unlike anything else you’ll hear this year.
Favorite Tracks: “Please Forgive Me”, “Fool”, “Please Be Mine”
Homebase(s): Austin, TX via Los Angeles and Asheville, NC
Recorded live in-studio over the span of just two days(!), Molly Burch’s debut is a love letter to the pop, r&b and doo-wop sounds of the 1950s/1960s. While the debut’s jaw-dropping consistency may rub some the wrong way, Molly’s idyllic vocals should right any woes in that regard. A child of LA, then Asheville, NC and now Austin, TX, Molly’s roots promise a future worth its weight in soul.
8. Infinite Worlds
by Vagabon
Sounds Like: A blend of Shawn Colvin, Tracy Chapman and Dido (but with some punk/garage rock too!)
Favorite Tracks: “The Embers”, “Cleaning House”, “Cold Apartment”
Homebase(s): Brooklyn, NY via Cameroon
Vagabon, the stage name of Cameroon born, New York based Lætitia Tamko, released an eight-track debut LP early in 2017 to praise and fanfare, but sadly seemed to disappear beneath the musical horizon as the year stretched along. It shouldn’t have. This DIY record, which mixes folk, punk and grunge rock into a messy, flailing but rewarding listen, ultimately succeeds most in the lyrics department: a black woman discussing the importance of the “politics of space” in a genre (indie rock) that has had, in recent years, few black women represented.
As Vagabon mentioned in an early interview for Infinite Worlds: “This is for black women and this is for black men. This is for women of color and this is for girls. I want to be here and present, even if it’s uncomfortable, just so that I can get to the people that I would’ve loved to see when I was doubting in myself.” This uncomfortableness permeates the album, leaving a lasting impression that Vagabon’s an artist you would do well not to forget about: she’ll be back, undoubtedly more self-assured.
7. Still Life
by Little Cub
Sounds Like: If The Radio Dept. decided to increase their BPM while the Arctic Monkeys took over songwriting duties.
Favorite Tracks: “Too Much Love”, “My Nature”, “Hypnotise”
Homebase: South London, England
The first of two South London acts on our end-of-year round up, Little Cub — comprised of Dominic Gore, Duncan Tootill and Ady Acolatse — are the dark-synth dance band you never knew you needed. When I was first introduced to the group via their early single “My Nature”, it was hard not to notice the combination of slick beats, weary atmosphere and vulnerable lyricism… which immediately made the band feel like a more electro-pop The Radio Dept. Once their album dropped, however, their fully-rounded style introduced more electronic elements and synth experimentation while simultaneously clinging to their dour, honest lyrics.
The juxtaposition of lyrics to beat is what makes this debut a treat. For example —
‘And if you cut me open / I know what you would find /
The hollow generation / Inside a gilded mind’
— over a crunchy bass, New Order-y synth line and LCD Soundsystem-y beat on lead track “Too Much Love”. Or consider the dreary, poltically-charged opening lines of “Hypnotise” —
‘I have a dream / Of students out there begging in the streets / They’re fighting over books like bits of meat / While the mentally-starved rule out virulently’
— which are supported by a relentless drumming and bass line that forces you to recognize the shitty state of 2017’s world order. There’s no better debut album from this year to dance your cares away and, simultaneously, consider the darkest reserves of yourself (and our universal predicament) than Still Life.
6. Stranger in the Alps
by Phoebe Bridgers
Sounds Like: Alovely mix between Sharon Van Etten’s emotional whimsy and Julien Baker’s stark realism
Favorite Tracks: “Smoke Signals”, “Funeral”, “You Missed My Heart”
Homebase(s): Los Angeles (with a formative Nashville stint as well!)
I was extremely late to the Phoebe Bridgers party (thanks Daniel & Cory for the heads up!) and, upon first listen, I didn’t immediately gravitate toward the album. It took a late night walk around DTLA the weekend after Thanksgiving for things to click. I wonder if Phoebe’s ever had a similar walk around that area? The final song on the album (“You Missed My Heart”) mentions the Ohio River from the POV of someone in Moundsville, West Virginia — it’s not too far from my home (I’ve passed through Moundsville before), and when I realized this final full track was a cover of Sun Kil Moon’s Mark Kozelek working with Jimmy LaValle (of The Album Leaf), well, let’s just say I saw the album through a new lens.
But the third time through, it’s the third track (“Funeral”) that feels like the true standout — a beautiful song about the depression the comes about simply from comparing your everyday problems with what the loss of your hypothetical child might feel like (it’s apparently about the heroin overdose of a close friend.) If that sounds heavy, it’s because it is. This album may not be for the faint-hearted, but its lyrical meditations remind me of a lovely mix between Sharon Van Etten’s emotional whimsy and Julien Baker’s stark realism. If either of those artists tickle your fancy, give Phoebe a try — if you’re like me, these ghastly earworms will evolve into worthwhile haunted melodies over time.
5. Jardín
by Gabriel Garzón-Montano
Sounds Like: If Miguel took more classical lessons as a child, with some Juanes influence as well.
Favorite Tracks: “Sour Mango”, “The Game”, “Crawl”, “Lullaby”
Homebase: Brooklyn, NY
From the opening track of Gabriel Garzón-Montano’s debut, you’re well aware this album will be unlike any other you’ve ever heard. The track’s mix of sweeping strings, sparse plucking strings and maracas force you to pay attention to the multi-layered harmonies (and lyrics) that Gabriel nonchalantly croons:
‘Maybe I’ll learn the rules, make out like a fool…
Maybe I’ll play the game and trade my trust for fame…
Still be just as lonely.’
It’s evident from the start, then, that Gabriel’s debut will be a meditation on the space shared by art and commerce — more specifically, where Gabriel plans to fall in that venn diagram (if he does at all.) It’s a heady subject matter for sure, but tracks like “Sour Mango”, “The Game” and “Crawl” will have you moving and shaking enough that a full lyrical dissection isn’t truly necessary to enjoy the album.
Born in Brooklyn to a Colombian father and French mother (a musically gifted individual in her own right, who was a member of the Philip Glass ensemble in the 1990s), Gabriel’s influences flutter between classical chamber, cumbia, and 1970s soul/r&b. Gabriel stated in an interview that the album is ‘a message of… beauty and placing importance on enjoying beauty and ensuring that beauty is present in the everyday.’ In that regard, Gabriel’s debut succeeds — I defy you to listen to this album and not find a glimmer in your eye, a shimmy in your shake.
4. Cigarettes After Sex
by Cigarettes After Sex
Sounds Like: A male-fronted Beach House with Morrissey-esque lyrics.
Favorite Tracks: “K.”, “Sweet”, “Opera House”, “Truly”
Homebase(s): Brooklyn, NY via El Paso, TX
The self-titled debut album from singer Greg Gonzalez and co. is handily the album that I cried most to in 2017. Some of the tears were joyous, others were weepy, and others arose from simple nostalgia. Toward the end of lead track “K.”, Greg murmurs —
‘Stay with me / I don’t want you to leave’
— and I remember vividly the first time I heard this lyric right after meeting the first man I’ve ever loved… I don’t think I’ll forget it anytime soon. Cigarettes After Sex banks on this emotional and nostalgic connection to their languid, sentimental tunes.
Lead singer Greg Gonzalez is a Brooklyn transplant originally from El Paso, TX. Greg’s had the band since 2008 and released their first EP all the way back in 2012, but it wasn’t until this year that they released a proper LP. That near decade of growth spares Cigarettes After Sex from feeling like a re-tread or late-to-the-game ambient pop group — it’s clear that Gonzalez took his time with the melodies and lyrics on this debut. But more than maybe any other new band in recent memory, it’s Cigarettes After Sex’s dedication to atmosphere which separates them from a crowded pack of ambient pop artists. Slip on some nice headphones, take a late night amble down an old haunt — you will be 100% transported to a memory lane of wonder, beauty and pure nostalgia.
3. Green Twins
by Nick Hakim
Sounds Like: If Unknown Mortal Orchestra chilled out a bit, maybe smoked some weed with John Mayer before recording.
Favorite Tracks: “Greet Twins”, “TYAF”, “Cuffed”, “JP”
Homebase(s): Brooklyn, NY via Washington, D.C.
Thanks to my pal Zack giving me an early heads up, I’ve had the immense pleasure of dissecting Nick Hakim’s debut album since its release this May. Green Twins is a startling psych-r&b debut album that seems to be about everything and nothing all at once. When I attempted to come up with what I wanted to say about this album, I realized the liner notes that Nick left on the vinyl cover are, ultimately, the best descriptor — so here they are in full:
“I had a dream where we were walking down the road in JP (Jamaicai Plains, MA) and two little green babies were running around the sidewalk. There was a crash behind us as we walk away and we look back and the twins had been run over by a car. These babies were made out of some green jello texture. This dream happened three times. This was the starting point for this project. “Green Twins” was written around the same month that a child was to be born (October 2013.) They will always haunt my dreams. The green twins with her eyes.”
As you can tell, Nick’s unafraid of wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he prefers for his music to be vague on precise details. In a later interview with Gold Flake Paint, Nick delved a bit more into the details surrounding the baby that was to be born, adding:
“…this dream… reflected an actual experience that I went through with my partner. That experience is somewhat private, but it’s also something I chose to share with people and call my record because it reflects a feeling of [my] reality. It’s an ode to something that — I know what it is, but I’m trying to not [discuss] the specific thing because I don’t want anybody to feel pity [for me] or to feel mad at me or at anybody…”
Looking contextually at clues from the album and these snippets from Nick, it appears that the concept of this debut surrounds a personal loss via miscarriage. Whether that miscarriage was Nick’s or solely a friend of Nick’s is unclear, but that awareness going into this journey will add to your first listen in unexpected, twisty ways. If ever I was to suggest wine, weed and dimmed lights for an inaugural listen, Green Twins would be a frontrunner.
2. Ctrl
by SZA
Sounds Like: Brandy put out an album in her prime produced by Air.
Favorite Tracks: “Love Galore”, “Drew Barrymore”, “Prom”, “The Weekend”
Homebase(s): LA (by way of St. Louis, New Jersey and New York)
Solána Rowe (aka SZA, pronounced ‘Sizza’ and influenced by — that’s right — Wu Tang Clan’s RZA!) is a Scorpio. It explains a lot more than you’d think. “I used to be very revenge-motivated but that’s just because I’m a Scorpio,” she explained to Cosmopolitan earlier this year, a few weeks after her debut dropped, “Now I’m more so like, practice honesty just because it makes you feel better.” That ‘practicing honesty’ shows up on SZA’s debut in bright, blinking neon lights. It may take a listen or two to catch the bits of brutal honesty sprinkled throughout the album (a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to the shoes brand Vans comes to mind), but the crumbs that SZA has dropped throughout are worth returning to find. I don’t want to sound completely at a loss, but the album was certainly a grower for me — and I enjoyed it much more with each successive listen.
Born in St. Louis, raised in New Jersey, and surviving for a while in NYC, SZA grew up the outcast of her childhood years — the Drew Barrymore of “Never Been Kissed” is a reference point Solána uses (and at least partly inspired the track titled after the actress.) Of note, SZA was a practicing Muslim around the time of 9/11, which did not make her the most popular girl in the neighborhood. “After 9/11, it went from, ‘Oh, there’s this girl who wears a hijab sometimes, but she’s cool and normal,’ to, ‘Oh, you worship the devil.’” This detachment from the ‘popular crowd’ certainly informs the spine of SZA’s lyricism — direct, cutthroat and justified. But don’t take my word for it; Ctrl’s waiting on Spotify for you to give it a listen right now.
1. Yesterday’s Gone
by Loyle Carner
Sounds Like: A more sonically experimental The Streets taking inspiration from equal parts Michael Kiwanuka and Fugees.
Favorite Tracks: “The Isle of Arran”, “Damselfly”, “No Worries”, “Sun of Jean”
Homebase: Croydon (South London), England
Ever since I started listening to Loyle Carner — stage name of Ben Coyle-Larner — in January of this year, I’ve made my major point of comparison an artist by the name of The Streets. A fellow English bloke with a South London influence, The Streets was an electronic/hip hop artist by the name of Mike Skinner who’s biggest hit — “Dry Your Eyes” — showed a softer, more sensitive side of the UK’s multi-platinum selling artist. Most people didn’t understand or agree with the comparison. Few even remembered The Streets until I put on 2002’s “Dry Your Eyes”. But I remain firm in this comparison for two reasons: the first is that I can find no legitimate contemporaries for the exact sound that Loyle Carner has bottled up on his debut album; the second is that I think both Loyle Carner and The Streets share an unending well of lyrical empathetic understanding.
Empathy’s something I return to often when dissecting music. I suppose it’s a tad shortsighted to base your feelings of an artist upon such a subjective view of the individual and his or her output, but it’s near impossible for me to think of music any other way. When I was a teenager, I worked at an independently owned mom & pop book store. Stuck in the stacks of this creative cocoon, I would occasionally be introduced to new media via some of the older (and in my mind, wiser) fellow employees. It was in this environment that I learned about the beautiful profanity on Deadwood, the importance of Robert Altman’s presence in film, and why Room on Fire is a better album than Is This It (it’s a long story and could be false — but it stuck!)
Yesterday’s Gone is the type of album I feel like these sincere, verbose co-workers of mine would have suggested I check out. I bet I would have a larger appreciation for rap had I been handed an album like Yesterday’s Gone in my adolescence. This album drips with gooey chunks of humanity-laden-honey while simultaneously criticizing the hypocrisy of showbiz rappers — devoid of a unique, personal point of view — by simply ignoring lyrical grandstanding altogether. There’s not a word on this album that doesn’t feel earned and honest…which is by no means an easy feat.
What’s most impressive to me when discussing Loyle Carner is the philanthropy hidden inbetween the artist and his first masterpiece. After releasing his heart-breaking first single in 2014 (“BFG”, lyrically inspired by the death of his step-father, as is his debut album as well), Loyle Carner ended up opening a cooking school for teenagers diagnosed with ADHD (a diagnosis Loyle holds, along with dyslexia.) And get this: the school’s called Chilli Con Carner!
Perhaps it was the dourness gloaming over the last few months of 2017 in general… but Yesterday’s Gone has this silly way of getting under your skin, a somber method of tugging at your heart. If you make it through to “Sun of Jean”, the penultimate track, and hear the stunning poem that Loyle Carner’s mum reads over the outro about what Loyle Carner was like as a boy — as a “proper Mowgli” — I hope you’ll also appreciate the awkward wholesomeness that a rap artist with such awareness can bring to your own musical worldview.
You can read excellent interviews with Loyle Carner: One here at Evening Standard, one at Interview Magazine and another at M Magazine.
Honorable Mention (in alphabetical order by artist/musician):
A Song For Every Moon by Bruno Major
Cairobi by Cairobi
Ripe Dreams, Pipe Dreams by Cameron Avery
Lines by Charlie Cunningham
Lotta Sea Lice by Courtney Barnett/Kurt Vile
Odd Job by Gregory Uhlmann
Regrowth by Kauf
Take Me Apart by Kelela
Kelly Lee Owens by Kelly Lee Owens
Plastic Soul by Mondo Cozmo
Process by Sampha
Messes by Stef Chura
Fin by Syd
Silence by Tom Adams
No Mountains In Manhattan by Wiki
