Skip to main content
Listening recommendations from the past, present, Portland and the periphery.
SOMETHING OLD
Ras Michael is a member of the Nyabinghi mansion of Rastafari and played a key role in introducing Nyabinghi drumming into reggae. Now in his 70s, he’s still producing music at a prolific clip, and his 27th album, Live by the Spirit, is a late-career highlight. His drums lead the proceedings at a stately pace as female backing vocals drift on a humid breeze. At first, it feels sedate enough to curl up and take a nap inside, but as with all religious music, the lyrics are a little alarming—fornicators and servants of Babylon should not expect to find kind words here.
SOMETHING NEW
If you’ve heard Joseph Shabason, it’s most likely as the lonely saxophone echoing Dan Bejar’s cryptic diatribes on Destroyer’s indie-rock classic, Kaputt. On his debut solo album, The Fellowship, Shabason lets his horn vanish behind clouds of vintage synths and distortion, conjuring a beatific atmosphere that reflects the album’s inspiration in his upbringing within an insular Muslim community. It’s the kind of non-denominational prayer the O.G.s of ambient music—Brian Eno, Harold Budd, Laraaji, and especially Jon Hassell—made their métier.
SOMETHING LOCAL
Marisa Anderson and William Tyler’s new single “Lost Futures” is out now in advance of the collaborative album of the same name out on August 27. The two—her from Portland, him from Nashville—interlock beautifully on a guitar duet as rustic as an old cabin but modern enough to justify the title’s nod to techno-philosopher Mark Fisher. If you’re unfamiliar with Anderson’s work, check out the wonderful, bluesy vignettes on 2017′s Into the Light. Meanwhile, Tyler’s Behold the Spirit is one of last decade’s most creative folk-guitar albums.
SOMETHING ASKEW
Progressive rock gets a bad rap for being technically dazzling at the expense of true emotion, but you wouldn’t make that mistake after hearing “Blue” Gene Tyranny’s Out of the Blue. Comprising two almost unbearably beautiful pieces (“Living a Double Life,” “Letter from Home”), one bona-fide banger (“For David K.”), and one bona-fide banger that’s also unbearably beautiful (“Next Time Might Be Your Time”), this 1978 stunner is deeply spiritual, empathetic, and awestruck by the possibilities of where we’re from and where we’re going.
