
I’m actually the most excited to write about this list above all the other ones that I’ve written because it contains the least amount of content that has been featured on the site. We’ve written and talked about a fair share of purely non-metal albums this year, but the ones that I’ve been in touch with the most are the ones that I have kept the closest to my chest. I enjoy a few surprises at the end of the year, and while you may have heard me gush about a few of these albums more than once, there should be enough curveballs in there to sufficiently throw you off the scent if you think you know what’s coming. These are the albums that I flew to in the bad times, when I was too down to get into the spirit of metal, even as catharsis, and they’re albums I listened to to celebrate the good that happened this year. It’s good to get some variety in the mix anyway, and these are some of the best ways I can think of to get that in there.
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The National – First Two Pages of Frankenstein

Sad dad music, some call it. I actually found out about The National way back when from my aunt, so take that for what it’s worth. It’s been really intriguing to see the meteoric rise of this band from a humble indie project to having a bonafide Taylor Swift feature on this, their most recent album. But whatever they are doing, it’s working, because clearly everyone wants a piece of the action, and why wouldn’t they? First Two Pages of Frankenstein is some truly heartbreaking music from a band that specializes in that hazy, chronic ache that goes along with depression and loneliness. The minimalist compositions that grow and swell slowly over the course of several minutes might not be an unusual formula, but the execution of it is stellar, and the guest spots add a lot to the songs without stealing the show (although, Taylor *desperately* tries to steal the show during “The Alcott).
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City and Colour – The Love Still Held Me Near

Otherness, for my money, was a rousing success for Alexisonfire, and it seems that momentum carried on to Dallas Green’s pseudo-solo project. The Love Still Held Me Near carries forward with the project’s growth into a full-band outing, but there are moments here that hearken back to the very early Sometimes and Bring Me Your Love days that will make long time fans perk up their ears. The Love Still Held Me Near is an album that is heavily informed by grief and loss, so it’s not exactly the world’s easiest listen, but if anyone could take profound and numbing emotions like that and turn them into something beautiful, vulnerable and ultimately uplifting, it’s Dallas Green by a mile. And I’ll tell you one thing, that man’s voice never gets old, not in almost 20 years of making music under this moniker
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Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit – Weathervanes

Is Jason Isbell country? I have a hard time letting myself believe so, because Weathervanes is the antithesis of everything that modern country music is and stands for. There is a brutal honesty to Isbell’s words that cut right to the core and don’t lean on platitudes and pleasantries to say what they need to say. If nothing else, listen to “The King of Oklahoma” and try not to be devastated. But beyond that, Weathervanes shows off the 400 Unit like never before, and the instrumental prowess on display is on par with the lyrical aptitude. This is the most the group has sounded like a cohesive unit, and it allows the songs to stretch and breathe into nigh-on jam sessions in some spots, and keeps the replayability of this album very high despite the heavy nature of the songs.
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Osi and the Jupiter – Cedar and Sage (Riders of the Gallows, Vol. 1)

It’s been a banner year for Mr. Kakophonix, who has been featured on no less than three albums I have reviewed this year alone, in addition to Cedar and Sage, another success in a series of successes by the Ohio Nordic/Appalachian folk group. This time seeming to take a step back towards the Nordic style of folk found on Nordlige Rúnaskog, the duo of Kakophonix and Sean Kratz effortlessly weave their way through mystical compositions that touch on the spiritual and natural world and really pull you out of yourself and into something much bigger and more beautiful and humbling. Plus, “Hollowed” features that quintessential #MoggridgeMoment that every album needs to be truly successful.
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Sigur Rós – Átta

One of the big themes of this year in music seems to be “bands that have not released an album in almost, if not more than, ten years suddenly release a new album.” While Sigur Rós haven’t *not* released anything in a decade, it’s been since 2013’s Kveikur since we’ve gotten a proper album from them. Átta sees the band move in the orchestral direction they have been diving into with their live performances and shorter releases, but bringing back the achingly beautiful cinematic collages they are known for. Átta is also a fairly dark and aggressive album in spots, and I think the album cover pretty much sums up what you get here. It shows a few new tricks that the Icelandic team can do, but you mostly just get the warm and fuzzy feeling of them being back.
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Aesop Rock – Integrated Tech Solutions

Integrated Tech Solutions is an album about many things. It’s a pseudo-concept album about a fictional tech solutions firm. It’s a treatise on technology and all of the myriad ways that it shapes modern life. It’s also an album about all of Aesop’s niche interests that he’s been developing in his middle aged years, like sitting and examining bodies of water, various Asian dishes, and drawing pigeons. It’s *also* an album about persevering in the face of artistic adversity and rediscovering your inspirations. At the end of the day, it’s all of these things, and it’s also an album that perfectly balances Aesop’s verbose flow with being approachable and relatable.
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Sufjan Stevens – Javelin

2023 was…not a good year for Sufjan Stevens. You don’t really want me to spell it out for you, because you can read for yourself if you don’t know, and also because I want you to listen to Javelin, an album inspired by just about the most horrible thing that can happen to someone. But therein lies the beauty of it. It’s an album that is music as catharsis, an outpouring of grief and love and admiration and frustration and anger and exhaustion and all the emotions that go along with loss. But musically, it also immaculately bridges the two sides of what Sufjan Stevens does: gentle, meandering folk and electronic experimentation. It’s a wonderful tribute that is really tough to listen to in spots, but well worth digging into.
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The Mountain Goats – Jenny From Thebes

It might seem like a given at this point, but it really does need to be stated that if a Mountain Goats album wasn’t good, I’d tell you. It just so happens that the last few ones (okay, more than a few considering this is their sixth album in five years) have been just as good as anything they put out in the classic years. Slowly, ever slowly, the band has been growing and expanding the sound and scope, and on Jenny From Thebes we get not only one of the precious few examples of Darnielle revisiting a whole album, but also ventures into straight up rock opera territory. There are honest to god shades of Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell here, but also a deep and fascinating exploration of a major character in Mountain Goats canon that offers reward for the people who have been hunting for clues for decades.
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boygenius – The Record

This is my number one album of the year, all things held equal. To me, there is nothing better than this, the long awaited full-length release from indie-pop’s most beloved figures. It is truly insane to me that people as talented and already beloved like Lucy Dacus, Phoebe Bridgers and Julien Baker could somehow blow their own spectacular solo material out of the water by coming together and writing some of the best and most inspired pop music in the last I-don’t-even-know-how-many years. There is something so deep and rich about the way their voices and instruments come together, the predictable brutal honesty that is the trademark of all three of their lyrics, but also you really do get the sense that this album is a once-in-a-lifetime achievement; something ephemeral and beautiful, that you have to be there for.
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boygenius – The Rest

Unless it isn’t, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, an EP of bonus tracks comes along and fundamentally changes the course of every musical idea you had this year. I am definitely breaking my own rules by putting this on here, but in the immortal words of the esteemed Mr. Dracula Flow: “ask me if I give a shit, because I don’t give a shit.” “Afraid of Heights” might be the song of the year for me, all of these songs are heartbreakingly beautiful and it’s absolutely bonkers to me how much I’ve gone back and forth between this and The Record. All you really need to know about The Rest is that these are the songs that didn’t make the cut for The Record…so how good must The Record be?
So here we are, almost at the end of all things. The big one is coming soon, so don’t take your eyes off the page yet, but in the meantime, if you’re looking for more albums to tickle your fancy and activate the nostalgia centers of your brain that are already shoving 2023 into the past, look no further than these fine selections. Oh, and make sure you stay tuned for the annual non-metal podcast round-up as well, if you’re interested in more like this. Just don’t call us here at 9 Circles, Inc. one trick ponies. We contain multitudes, and hopefully times like these show it. Anyway, look for more Rainbows in 2024, and make sure you keep the beacon lit.
— Ian






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