Our music editor's picks for the 10 best albums of 2023

The best tunage the year had to offer.

10
Sorry I Haven't Called
Vagabon

Cameroonian-American singer-songwriter Laetitia Tamko (aka Vagabon) opens Sorry I Haven't Called with a simple lyrical question: "Can I talk my shit?" To answer that rhetorical, a resounding yes. Maybe no artist has leveled up their swag more over the past half decade than Vagabon. While she emerged with the terrific tender indie rock of her 2017 debut LP Infinite Worlds, this new album finds her awash in sashaying electro-pop. With production aid from Rostam, there's a resistance-free liquid flow to the tracks' blend of house and Afrobeat sounds. They pair seamlessly with Vagabon's hefty vocals that radiate a confidence even when lyrically exploring people that make you feel like the worst version of yourself ("Do Your Worst") or feeling insecure and adrift in a sea of self-evaluation ("Nothing to Lose").

9
Time Ain't Accidental
Jess Williamson

On Time Ain't Accidental, singer-songwriter Jess Williamson draws from the places she's called home. The album boasts an intoxicating blend of the country-folk roots of her Texas upbringing and the modern touches one might expect from her current Los Angeles residency. The most striking sonic element is how traditional arrangements (with banjos and steel guitars) and Williamson's honey sweet voice pair with sparse drum machine beats she made on her iPhone. That might seem like an off-putting combo, but the results are pure indie country bliss. Her evocative lyricism about searching for real love across time, distance, and messy modernity rings true whether things are kept minimal or open up into grand, horn section-infused jams. It transcends the bummer world of romantic rejections with a touch of steely resolve and a lot of open-hearted hoping.

8
Cacti
Billy Nomates

Billy Nomates is over it. All of it. The nom de plume of English singer-songwriter Tor Maries, Nomates hits a cynical sweet spot on the ever-prickly Cacti. Her alt-rock songs about modern dejection, sparks fading, self-sabotage, and showing up to shindigs out of spite are somewhat reminiscent of peak Liz Phair, but favors blunt-force impacts over slowly seething acidity. The instrumental backings blur the line between synth pop sparks and punk raggedness, and her vocal delivery falls somewhere between Courtney Barnett's caustic talk-singing and a more snarling folk-rock crooner. Cacti lavishes in its bitterness. It's a collection of tunes for the worn and weathered who haven't fully packed it in yet.

7
One More Time...
Blink-182

Considering the group's jokey juvenile pop punk core, it's rather shocking that Blink-182 has somehow managed to age pretty gracefully. Then again, the band's stealthy strength has always been how well the band can pull off the sad and somber songs (think: "Adam's Song" and "Stay Together for the Kids"). That ability shines through on One More Time... as guitarist/singer Tom DeLonge returns to the group and guys wrestle with their own mortality and personal history on songs like "One More Time" and "You Don't Know What You've Got." That said, there's still plenty of pop punk pep to go around, as the album boasts some extremely catchy tunes about yearning for love ("Fell in Love," "Dance with Me"). The guys might be much more aware of their collective end point, but for now Blink-182 is still kicking.

6
The Last Night of Sadness
Jenn Champion

Few songwriters can make soul-achinging pains sound as accessible as Jenn Champion. Her band S served up a pantheon-level breakup album in the form of 2014's Cool Choices, and on The Last Night of Sadness, Champion turns her lyrical gaze to an even more brutal topic: addiction and overdoses. Over a dark synth pop soundscape, she shares excruciating lived-in details about coping with rehab, therapy and friends passing far too soon. Songs like "Jessica" balance graceful mercy for those suffering with their demons ("You called me split open / I still love you, but it hurts now") and unvarnished anger at the damage those demons cause ("Who ODs in a f—ing hospital? / Stupid, dead Jessica"). There are moments to find hope and love in the face of all the agony ("Love Song (Think About It)"), but at its core The Last Night of Sadness is a beautiful exercise in compassionate coping.

5
Some of It Was True
The Menzingers

The cracks start to show as we age, not only in the lines in our faces but in the tiny fissures in our psyches. Pennsylvanian punks The Menzingers have long traded in nostalgic songwriting reflections that pair rose-colored Heartland rock hues with wailing alternative heartbreak, but Some of It Was True finds the band constantly delivering lyrical gut-punches (especially for thirtysomething dudes). Frontman Greg Barnett's almost-crooning vocal delivery packs a wallop as he's unflinchingly earnest about wrestling with love and loneliness in their many forms. From unspoken unreciprocated loves ("Hope is a Dangerous Thing") to the fraying feeling of being an outsider in isolation ("There's No Place in This World for Me") to sorting out issues with someone who you hold up as your whole world ("Ultraviolet"), the songwriting has an aching universality and is propelled by the rest of the band's raw but anthemic rock arrangements. The Menzingers' complete composure and the lack of melodrama injected into the mix only make the melancholy of Some of It Was True ring out that much clearer.

4
Dogsbody
Model/Actriz

Dogsbody remains ever on the razor's edge, tweaking with menacing glee at every turn. The debut LP from the Brooklyn industrial art punk act simply feels NSFW. Singer Cole Haden indulges in pure sexualized, sinister, provocative fun; his intensely charismatic spoken/sung lyrics carry a tone akin to an unsettling Cheshire grin. The rest of the band whips up anarchic noise, with guitarist Jack Wetmore and bassist Aaron Shapiro playing their instruments in wildly atypical and experimental ways — kind of like Rage Against the Machine but filtered through Nine Inch Nails and the dark dance grooves at the most wonderfully grimey gay bar in town. Which is all to say: Model/Actriz f—ks.

3
Jenny from Thebes
The Mountain Goats

Jenny From Thebes is an album about sanctuary. The titular Jenny is a character who's floated in and out of the Mountain Goats' lore dating back to 2002's All Hail West Texas, but here singer-songwriter John Darnielle crafts a rock opera sequel to further expand her world. The album wrestles with Jenny's compassionate nature — she thrives when taking downtrodden, vulnerable outcasts into her home for care, but what lengths will one go to protect that sanctuary? What is violence when done in the name of safety? Whether rocking out or gently ruminating in the glow of multi-instrumentalist Matt Douglas' string and horn arrangements, Darnielle finds Jenny's emotional core while still allowing her character to remain mysterious — fierce, lovely, and as blurry as her vestige speeding off into the West Texas sunset on her custom black and yellow Kawasaki motorcycle.

2
Rabbit Rabbit
Speedy Ortiz

In a year when union strikes made a ton of noise, there's solidarity to be gained from an album like Rabbit Rabbit. Tracks like "Scabs" and "You S02" buzz with frenetic indie rock aplomb while also acting as rallying anthems for the working class. Speedy Ortiz frontdemon Sadie Dupuis also isn't skittish about brandishing more personal scars, spitting mouthfuls of bardic blood back at those who created them. That giddy combativeness permeates Rabbit Rabbit. Dupuis showcases some of her most complex and detailed guitar shredding to date, which pairs perfectly with her poetic lyrical dexterity. Even when the album downshifts to more contemplative numbers ("Brace Thee," "Cry Cry Cry") it never pulls punches, swinging at malicious manipulators of all stripes and connecting each blow with a satisfying impact.

1
The Record
Boygenius

It remains absolutely wild that Boygenius became one of the bigger bands on the planet in 2023. Just a few years ago Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus were the fresh crop of melancholy indie singer-songwriters carving out careers at tiny rock clubs — all absolutely stellar, but the type of craftswomen who rarely sniff the mainstream. But you can't fake talent. And more importantly, you can't fake chemistry. The first LP from Boygenius unsurprisingly offers up a stellar collection of gorgeous rocking indie tunes, in large part because of the way each member totally checks their ego at the door. It never feels like they're passively taking turns leading songs, as they weave their voices in and out of one another's sonic spaces with a completely natural grace. Boygenius' songwriting is rich in small, emotionally resonant details — whether the songs are Baker's hollering rockers ("$20"), Bridgers' sad contemplative meditations ("Emily I'm Sorry"), Dacus' love tunes ("True Blue") or one of the standout tracks where they split the lead vocal duties ("Cool About It"). All the trio's best aspects — their harmonies, depressed lyricism, rocking edge, and pop sensibility — are on full display in the note-perfect song of the year, "Not Strong Enough." The Record stands as a testament to both the type of musical magic that can only happen organically and the tenderness of creative friendship. ♦

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Sydney Dale @ Arbor Crest Wine Cellars

Sat., Dec. 7, 6-8 p.m.
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Seth Sommerfeld

Seth Sommerfeld is the Music Editor for The Inlander, and an alumnus of Gonzaga University and Syracuse University. He has written for The Washington Post, Rolling Stone, Fox Sports, SPIN, Collider, and many other outlets. He also hosts the podcast, Everyone is Wrong...