The Best Albums of 2023
2023 saw the return of this site, The Conquest of Gaul, to a much-closer-to-full-time review site. There were some periods where life stuff took precedence, but definitely more consistent than at any time previously. Personally, I love writing the rewinds, as they allow me to really dig deeper into albums that I love and sometimes have sort of… forgotten to listen to for a while. I hope you all enjoyed them (and the other reviews and lists) too, and I’m really looking forward to continuing this site and format into 2024.
As for music, 2023 was crazy great. It started and ended a bit slow, but the March-October timeframe was jam packed with killer tracks and awesome albums. As with every year, the ranked list is limited to the top 50, but there were way too many great records to only leave it at that. So below is a list of… I lost count actually—some number of albums that I also thought were extra fantastic and needed shouting out.
Goodnight, God Bless, I Love U, Delete by ††† (Crosses), Love in Exile by Arooj Aftab, Fountain Baby by Amaarae, New Blue Sun by Andre 3000, Black Rainbows by Corinne Bailey Rae, A Requiem for Jazz by Angel Bat Dawid, Let Her Burn by Rebecca Black, Playing Robots Into Heaven by James Blake, Sun Arcs by Blue Lake, the record by boygenius, Fly, or Die Fly, or Die Fly, or Die ((World War)) by Jamie Branch, Quaranta by Danny Brown, Zach Bryan by Zach Bryan, The Greater Wings by Julie Byrne, The Last Rotation of Earth by B.C. Camplight, Ahora o Nunca by Candelabro, For That Beautiful Feeling by The Chemical Brothers, Destiny by DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ, *1 by Rắn Cạp Đuôi, Voir Dire by Earl Sweatshirt & The Alchemist, Girl With Fish by Feeble Little Horse, But Here We Are by Foo Fighters, Ooh Rap I Ya by George Clanton, The Ones Ahead by Beverley Glenn-Copeland, Oh Me Oh My by Lonnie Holley, The Whaler by Home Is Where, Cartwheel by Hotline TNT, Beautiful and Brutal Yard by J Hus, In The End It Always Does by The Japanese House, Gag Order by Kesha, Space Heavy by King Krule, Singles by Lil Ugly Mane, Let’s Start Here by Lil Yachty, Girl in the Half Pearl by Liv.e, Burning Desire by MIKE, Jelly Road by Blake Mills, Tension by Kylie Minogue, Jaguar II by Victoria Monét, Hit Parade by Róisín Murphy, Crepuscle I & II by Tujiko Noriko, Erotic Probiotic 2 by Nourished By Time, Forever Means EP by Angel Olsen, Again by Oneohtrix Point Never, Changing Channels by Pangaea, The Rime of Memory by Panopticon, This Is Why by Paramore, Formal Growth in the Desert by Protomartyr, Lahai by Sampha, Madres by Sofia Kourtesis, The Girl Is Crying in Her Latte by Sparks, The Lamb As Effigy by Sprain, Amatssou by Tinariwen, Wallsocket by Underscores, Rat Saw God by Wednesday, Time Ain’t Accidental by Jess Williamson, With a Hammer by Yaeji, This Stupid World by Yo La Tengo, Heavy Heavy by Young Fathers, and Heaven Is a Junkyard by Youth Lagoon.
Phew… with that insanely long list out of the way, let’s jump right into the 50 Best Albums of 2023.
Alison Goldfrapp is no stranger to masterful pop albums, but she’s also never had a solo album before. Shocking I know, considering her immense talent and body of work, surely there must have been a self-titled album or minor experiment away from the larger Goldfrapp. But no, The Love Invention is her first foray into solo work, and dear lord is it beautiful, and fun, and retro, and futuristic, and danceable, and sleek, and cool, and infinitely great. Opener “NeverStop” is a straight up banger, the title track keeps pace with Kylie Minogue’s best club work, and lead single “Fever (This Is the Real Thing)” was one of the best songs of the year. The Love Invention is so full of 90’s dance/electronica moments and production that it overloads the nostalgia quota, but it’s all written and performed so perfectly that it never feels pandering or cheap. It’s a loving ode to maybe the best time for pop-dance since the explosion of synths in the early 80’s.
Genesis Owusu absolutely stunned in 2021 with his debut full-length Smiling with No Teeth. That album was an unhinged combination of rap, soul, funk, and punk. On Struggler, Genesis narrows his focus, but in doing so, he impressively expands his musical horizons. Taking the songwriting and production styles of classic post-punk, he then adds his trademark lyrical delivery for a truly one-of-a-kind experience that mixes the best of Fontaines D.C., MC Ride, and John Maus, that’s both danceable and thought-provoking. I love post-punk in general, so this particular face for Genesis was an easy sell for me, but Struggler also gets me excited to see where he can go next: a full-on Parliament-style funk record, a deep-dive experimental hip hop album, really anything will grab my attention. It’s just awesome to see a “new” artist keep things so fresh: the stadium-ready chants of “Leaving The Light,” the kind of hilarious nihilism of “The Old Man,” the sidewalk strutting of “Tied Up!,” the driving momentum of “Stay Blessed,” or the sample-heavy turntablism of outstanding closer, “Survivor.” This next step in Genesis Owusu’s career only proves just how lucky we are to experience someone like this in the world.
“I am built like a mother and a total machine,” Olivia Rodrigo begins on her second album, a massive improvement to an already above average career. 2021’s SOUR was a bold-er take on teen pop, but what she merely dabbled in then, she completely plunges into on GUTS. It’s loud, it’s brash, it’s beyond fun. The turn Olivia has taken to pure power pop took, well, guts, but every risk pays off. Noisy single “bad idea right?” is insanely catchy while having an opening guitar riff that most alt-rockers would kill for. The big, first single, “vampire,” is a forlorn ballad that includes some of the year’s best-written poetry. And one of the best songs of 2023, “ballad of a homeschooled girl,” throws Rodrigo’s many rock influences (including a pretty obvious allusion to Muse’s 2001 single, “Hyper Music”) in a giant cauldron and magics them into a powerful brew. In short, GUTS is a pop rock masterpiece that sees Olivia transcending her pure pop origins to craft a record that we’ll still be listening to decades from now (at least, I will be).
In the many, ever-expanding years since the release of TV on the Radio’s last (?) album, Seeds, the idea that anyone who could expertly combine the disparate genres of psychedelia, art rock, and dance-punk would ever exist again has become a distant memory. But like your mind-hand touching a hot memory-stove, Sean Bowie, who performs as Yves Tumor, has produced one of the most delightfully complicated and refreshingly varied records I’ve heard in over a decade. This new album from the art-rocker showcases a beautifully intricate world that seems to be the climax of their growing skills and ambitions. Standout tracks, like the 90’s stoner influenced “Meteora Blues,” the lush glam rock mixed with grunge of “Parody,” the intense psychedelia of “Heaven Surrounds Us Like a Hood,” or the post-punk revivalism of the driving, dark, “Operator,” all come together to form a motley project that is only ever greater than the sum of its parts. …Hot Between Worlds is something you absolutely must experience for yourself. You won’t regret it.
Generally, in these lists, I have a rule: totally original albums only. No scores, soundtracks, greatest hits, remixes…
…or B-sides. But I just had to make an exception for The Loveliest Time. One of my greatest regrets in my music criticism career is leaving E·MO·TION out of the top ten on my 2015 list. I refuse to make that mistake again; I want in on the ground floor this time. While I thought last year’s The Loneliest Time saw Carly Rae Jepsen making an interesting move into the disco revival space, so many others had come in earlier and done it better that it was relegated to my honorable mentions. However, such is not the case with this B-sides compilation. Many of the sounds CRJ was playing around with last year are here too, but they’re condensed and used a amplifiers to her particular brand of juicy electro-dance-pop. Best of the year song “Kamikaze” is so insanely catchy and danceable that it became the first pop song to ever break into my Spotify Wrapped. And the 90’s big beat time traveler that is “Psychedelic Switch” could give Alison Goldfrapp up there a run for her money. This is one of the happiest, bounciest, and yes, loveliest things I’ve heard this year, and it’s definitely worth any and all the time you’re willing to give it.
The deep web’s two favorite oddballs finally did the thing and made a legit album together. And dear God is it the strangest thing I’ve heard all year, or last year, or probably since I heard that Xiu Xiu single where Jamie Stewart sings “meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow.” The beats are definitely scary, combining JPEGMAFIA’s affinity for the bizarre and treble-laden with samples from the likes of Death Grips to create a totally… original sound. And while his own rhyme game is nothing to laugh at, Danny Brown really destroys his bars and puts in a career-best performance on the title track (probably my favorite on the album) and the closer “Where Ya Get Ya Coke From?,” where he continues to rap arrhythmically as the beat switches from doom-rap to 70’s folk sample and back. But what’s really mind-blowing is that every once in a while, a truly exceptional radio-friendly moment will break through, like the beat and hook on “Kingdom Hearts Key,” or the bluesy R&B of “HOE (Heaven on Earth),” that makes you see what the duo are really working with. By the time you reach the end, you’ve run a gauntlet, both mentally and physically, but all that flagellation cleanses the soul. I can guarantee you’ve never heard anything like this, and I don’t think we ever will again.
I want to, briefly, gush about Mitski’s genius as a songwriter. She has maintained such a distinct style right from the beginning of her career. She tried her hand at indie pop, dabbled with the experimental, squealed through loud, distorted rock songs, and dazzled with synthpop perfection, all the while throwing orchestral instruments at the wall hoping they’d stick. Not once did she sound like anyone other than herself. Now she is trying her hand at acoustic country-western and the warm and vivid songwriting makes me want to crawl inside her guitar and live there forever. “Bug Like an Angel” is probably the most heartbreaking cry for help I’ve heard, mostly because it’s not one on the surface. “Buffalo Replaced” takes a classic country theme of the disappearing west and adds Mitski’s trademark hyper-visual storytelling to an already storied tradition from the genre. Then there’s the beautiful, sorrowful ode to loneliness-as-the-cost-of-autonomy, “My Love Mine All Mine.” And in maybe the best poem she’s ever written, “The Deal,” Mitski makes a deal with the devil to take her soul in exchange for literally nothing, and, now lacking a soul, is watched by a solitary bird who tells her she will never hear its song again. In the closer, “I Love Me After You,” Mitski seemingly finds her self-confidence again, declaring herself “king of all the land,” but what kind of land, and what kind of king? Remember, the land is inhospitable, and so are we.
Someone as consistently consistent as Sufjan Stevens has a hard time surprising these days. Even when the initial listens of the couple teaser sounds from Javelin came out, the phrase of the day was “return to form.” I guess I was the only person who liked the highly electronic, long-form suites of The Ascension, but either way, Javelin was supposed to be a walk back through the dark, yet infinitely twee world of Carrie & Lowell. But while the songs we ended up getting on Javelin begin with the minimalist acoustics of that former album, they don’t stay that way for long. After a verse or two, each track from Javelin opens up to a massive orchestral and choral world that only Sufjan could pull off.
2023 was not a good year for Sufjan. In September he revealed that he’d been essentially incapacitated by Guillain-Barre syndrome. Then in October, accompanying the release of Javelin was a sort of dedication to his partner, Evans Richardson, who had passed not long before. Now, I’m not sure of the exact timeline, and it is not owed to me an explanation, these songs could have been stewing and back-burner-ing for years prior to Richardson’s death. But with this timing, the songs come to mean nothing else. What, outside of this context, could easily be a breakup album, and a truly brutal and beautiful one at that, now has Sufjan asking that old flame not to leave… the world.
Songs like “Will Anybody Ever Love Me” and “So You Are Tired” aren’t points of self-doubt following the dissolution of a marriage, they are the depths of despair and physical toll that abject grief takes on someone after such loss. The song structure then, too, mirrors Stevens’ former themes of looking for salvation, but now he no longer seeks it for himself, just the hope that when Evans left this world, it was to a place that is better than here.
“Shit Talk,” the penultimate track, is a brilliant and heartbreaking sort of Socratic dialogue within himself, trying to keep all the bad thoughts down while watching the person he loves the most leave this mortal plane. He struggles to hold back all the curses—at God, at himself—in order to simply be here now. But the pain of being here, now, without his one true love, is more than a simple heart can bear. That his internal struggle resolves into a wordless, ambient orchestra and choir is more beautiful than any succinct ending could provide. Without our loved ones, the song is over, but the music goes on.
I’ve been following the career of Caroline Polachek for quite a while now. Chairlift was one of the few indie synthpop bands from the 2000’s that I actually thought had talent in a sea of very similar sounding bands that… definitely didn’t. Then her solo career, but specifically Pang and it’s fantastic single, “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings,” took off and I was along for the ride. But nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for this.
Desire, I Want to Turn Into You is spare and moody, so new age and so terminally online. There’s something that is so very now about this album. Maybe it’s the minimalist production, maybe it’s the lyrics that fill me with feeling despite being incredibly specific to things Caroline is experiencing, maybe it’s that even though everything here could only have been made now, it still feels like it could have been a classic from 40 years ago.
To specifically highlight what I mean, my personal favorite track (at least, for now) is “Blood and Butter”: gross name, fun song, sick bagpipe solo. The track sounds so effortlessly modern, but the synths were clearly in 10cc’s pre-installed Korg library back in 1975. The lyrics, too, are stunningly gorgeous, and walk a fine line between endlessly intellectual and hopelessly romantic: “Let me dive / Through your face / To thе sweetest kind of pain / Call you up / Nothing to say / No, I don't need no entertaining / When the world / Is a bed / Give me green and ribbon red / Oh, I get closer than your new tattoo.”
The album is full of intricacies and perfectly placed sounds: the use of hyperpop synth stabs in “I Believe,” a song dedicated to the late SOPHIE, who essentially invented the use of that sound in modern pop music; the who-knew-I-needed-this-but-now-I-can’t-live-without-it pairing of Grimes and Dido on “Fly to You;” the brilliant bassline and samples of “Bunny Is a Rider.”
The entire cohesive whole is effervescent and otherworldly. It’s something that is so very 2023, yet so ethereal as to be outside of space and time. It is an album about love that’s exceedingly technical, and record about loss that’s totally cool. It’s restrained and overflowing with emotion, a psychic contradiction. It may be the best pure pop album I’ve ever heard.
The experience one has when listening to Geese’s 3D Country is personal and varied. Each individual will have a different reaction to it. It is an infinite prism of infinite complexity. Personally, this album changed me in ways beyond even my own understanding. I didn’t know sounds like this could exist, and now that I do, I cannot live without them.
3D Country opens with the erratic and frenetic “2122,” a song so complex and yet so bangin’ that the only proper way to experience it is to put on your headphones and proceed to destroy the room around you. After each of lead singer Cameron Winter’s verses, Geese break into what seems like a completely different song, sometimes cowpunk, sometimes punk, sometimes post-rock, and sometimes just straight up noise. It is its own litmus test, but it is the best opening track I’ve heard all year.
The title track is a much more country-fried—and much more cohesive—experience. This is the first sample of what much of this album will sound like, but that sound is… very difficult to define. As stated, there’s the country, but I hear a LOT of 70’s yacht rock, particularly The Doobie Brothers and Todd Rundgren. When those heavenly backing vocalists come in, let’s just say it won’t take much else to sell you on the sound. This is superb songwriting.
“Cowboy Nudes” and “I See Myself” lean into this aesthetic even more. The drum and percussion breakdown in the former is mindboggling if you don’t also headbang all the way through it. Then the second verse blows open the doors, complete with cow bell accompaniment. The latter song is a perfect replica of that classic pop rock sound.
“Undoer” is the mammoth on the album, and by a wide margin its strangest track. The verses are a plodding, semi-post-punk mystery wrapped in an enigma. But when Winter kicks off the choruses with “it was…” the song blasts apart into noisy, loud post-rock with angular guitars and slammed drums while Winter screams at the edge of his ability “IT WAS ALL YOOOUUU!!!” The final pass of this, nearly seven minutes later, results in the entire band playing so hard and rapidly that they break the studio apart, while Winter screams inconsolably, wordlessly.
The smash cut to the cheers and honky tonk of “Crusades,” my most played song of the year, is brilliant production beyond explanation. The choice is bold to completely switch genres so jarringly, but it also doesn’t kill the mood with a (more traditional) slow song. The mood stays elevated, certainly, but switches from fear and anger, to Friday night partying. That this line dance is paired with some truly stunning religious-themed poetry is another brilliant juxtaposition, giving the whole two-step a sort of southern revival feeling.
“Mysterious Love” is another exercise in post-rock, and is probably the band’s only real dive into fully embracing the genre. When winter kick’s off the first chorus with a throaty scream of “20 POUNDS OF GLASS IN MY EYE!” you’re not quite sure why he’s asking for it, but it sounds like he means it. The second half of the song is taken up with the mantric chant of “some people are alone forever,” a depressing statement if ever there was one, but it’s delivered so much and so regularly it begins to lose all meaning, which I think is the point.
The closing duo of “Tomorrow’s Crusades” and “St. Elmo” see a return the country-fried inspirations of the title track and “Cowboy Nudes.” “Even now, I can remember, I can recall,” Winter begins, before diving into a story so fantastical and odd that it makes that opening statement seem like a joke. But his repetition of “where would I ever be without you?” in the chorus seems significantly more sincere, and that sincerity gives the song a weight that lends a sort of validity to the entire experience of the album.
Closer, “St. Elmo,” though, is the country-est song on the album, full of honky tonk piano, washboards, junkyard percussion, and fingerpicked guitars. Even Winter lends his vocal delivery a bit of an ol’ timey storytelling air that ensures the “country” in 3D Country is no lazy joke. The walking, nay, strutting of Max Bassin’s drums lead us out, like a triumphant cowboy sauntering out of a saloon, the endless desert on the horizon.
3D Country is an entire experience on its own. I cannot believe how enamored with it I was this year, and going back and listening again, for the thousandth time, to write this review, only cements its place for me as the #1 album of 2023. It’s an enigmatic, idiosyncratic, rocking good time to be enjoyed by one and all.