songs for judith

on the occasion of an orchestral premiere, I've made an annotated playlist

A few weeks ago, Steven Cantor, a gentleman I know by face from events around Portland, reached out over the transom to ask if I’d select a few pieces of music for him to play on his weekly radio show in advance of this week’s premiere of Judith with the Oregon Symphony. It seemed a generous gesture, and, in the event, I sent him a playlist with twenty tunes, which I’ve annotated here. You’ll find a Spotify link at the bottom of the playlist, but I’ve linked individually to Bandcamp where possible, with the hope that you might fall in love with something and choose to support it. You can also listen to the radio show on demand here.

Before we dive in, a brief reminder that there’s a lot going on in Portland over the next ten days: on the heels of the premiere of Judith, the Open Music series kicks off on Friday, October 6 at the Reser Center with Stay On It, featuring music by Steve Reich, Meredith Monk, Julius Eastman, and so much more. I’ll be the host and house pianist. Season trailer here.

And now, without further ado, Songs for Judith:

Pegasi - Jesca Hoop - Memories Are Now

Jesca Hoop and I, despite having grown up in the same sleepy community in Northern California, have met only once, and then fleetingly, at Tony Berg’s old studio in Brentwood. Legend has it that she was, for a time, nanny to Tom Waits’ kids, and whether or not this tidbit is apocryphal, it’s the most appropriate way to introduce a stranger to her music. What does Jesca Hoop’s music sound like? It sounds like the music of someone who was, for a time, nanny to Tom Waits’ kids. But more: Jesca’s harmonic language is rich and variegated, sweet and sour. Her lyrics are wise, her voice like alabaster covered in a thin layer of ash. She’s lived in Manchester, England, for quite some time, and you’ll hear in her voice an accent all her own. Some find it off-putting, but to me, it’s just Jesca.

A Wish - Hamza El Din - A Wish

When I was growing up in Santa Rosa, California, this CD mysteriously appeared in my car one day, and then stayed there for the better part of my senior year of high school. The pianist on the date is W.A. Mathieu, whom I believe was my dad’s theory teacher at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. He’s probably best known for his book, Harmonic Experience, which, as I type this, I’m ashamed to say I’ve never read, but fully intend to. Lustrous as Mathieu’s piano voicings are, it’s Hamza El Din’s aching voice that makes this track an all-time favorite for me.

“Vergnügte Ruh! beliebte Seelenlust!” - Andreas Scholl, Collegium Vocale Gent, Philippe Herreweghe - J.S. Bach Cantatas for Solo Alto

Simply put, this is one of the most exquisite recordings I’ve ever heard. I don’t remember how or when I first came across it, but it plumbs aesthetic and spiritual depths that are uncommon, to say the least. I have a particularly fond memory of playing it for Chris Thile some years ago, over Dixie cups of some local beer on the Punch Brothers tour bus, and watching with delight as his face melted into joy.

Little i - Carla Kihlstedt, Tin Hat Trio - Tin Hat: the rain is a handsome animal

Carla is a unicorn. First-rate singer, violinist, and composer. She deserves to be a star. Very little of the solo work that led me to fall in love with her music is currently available, though that should change in the next 6-12 months. In the meantime, this tune from her Tin Hat Trio days captures a good deal of what makes Carla, for me, a towering figure in music. (N.B., this is recorded, I believe, with an E-string violin; that is to say, a violin strung exclusively with E strings… leads to some pretty crispy voicings!)

Études, Book 1: No. 4, Fanfares - Pierre-Laurent Aimard - Györgi Ligeti Edition, Vol. 3

Here is a seminal recording of a seminal piece of music. The notion of using an ostinato as a fulcrum for harmonic instability—rather than stability—turns up in my music all the time, and I’m fairly certain that it all came from encountering this étude, which combines Apollonian and Dionysian impulses to create a musical landscape as emotionally resonant as it is analytically refined.

Carvin. - Ambrose Akinmusire - Beauty is Enough

I got to know Ambrose during the pandemic over the course of a number of lengthy phone calls. I’d asked him to play on a tune for my album, Magnificent Bird, which he agreed to do, and which I ultimately didn’t release, not because his playing wasn’t brilliant—it was—but because I felt that the brilliance of his playing revealed what wasn’t working in the bones of the song. Still, a friendship was born, and I can’t say enough to praise Ambrose, his spirit, and his musicianship. Among the qualities that make him so remarkable is the extent to which timbre and color become portals to emotional catharsis. What better way to experience that than with an album of solo trumpet music?

The Bird - Anderson .Paak - Malibu

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Anderson .Paak is huge. But when he burst onto the scene several years ago with Malibu, my mind was blown. I remember being on tour around the release of this album, and for weeks, every pre-soundcheck jog I went on was accompanied by this record. With a voice that sounds the way a cat’s tongue feels, and a groove sensibility as idiosyncratic as Dilla’s, Anderson .Paak is one of the rare weirdos to achieve mainstream success, and God bless him for it!

About to Die - Dirty Projectors - Swing Lo Magellan

Dave Longstreth is a polymath’s polymath: his songs are as likely to sample a Mahler symphony as they are to borrow rhythmic ideas from hip-hop, but it never feels second-hand. He internalizes these reference points and refracts them such that they become completely integrated aspects of his compositional voice. This record dates back to 2012; I recently revisited it, and boy, does it hold up.

Forever Before - Feist - Multitudes

I know we’re not supposed to talk about “masterpieces” anymore, but that was the word that danced through my head as I spun this record for the first time. This set of tunes from the Canadian singer-songwriter Leslie Feist is a masterclass in balance and poise: the production (with an assist from my L.A. mates Blake Mills and Joseph Lorge, who mixed the album) has a clear point of view without ever becoming the focus; the writing is sophisticated yet emotionally direct; Feist’s guitar playing is elegantly labyrinthine; and her singing is like a warm knife in your shoulder: pain and pleasure and, again, pain.

Bard of a Wasteland - Gabriella Smith, Gabriel Cabezas - Lost Coast

Gabriella Smith is among my favorite composers writing music today; she’s become a favorite over at the Oregon Symphony, where we commissioned her piece Bioluminescence Chaconne. (We’ll also present her on our Open Music series next June, in conjunction with performances of her magisterial and expansive symphonic work, One.) But here, Gabriella—accompanied by her longtime friend and collaborator, the cellist Gabriel Cabezas—sings! It’s useful to know as you listen to this tune that Gabriella is also a passionate climate activist, spending much of her time out in nature, doing ecosystem restoration, and otherwise working to remake a healthy, habitable planet.

Frän himmelen kom ängeln Gabriel - St. Jacob's Chamber Choir - Folkjul II: A Swedish Folk Christmas

Jews love Christmas carols. It’s one of those essential universal truths, like the fact that pasta should never be drained, but rather transferred directly into the pan, the cooking water reserved for emulsification. And lo, you’ll never catch me putting pasta in a colander, and you sure as hell will hear me singing along to “Lo How A Rose E’er Blooming” come Yuletide. My friend Pekka Kuusisto, who gets the final word on this playlist, hipped me to this recording several years ago. It doesn’t need much more of an explanation.

Talkin’ Like You (Two Tall Mountains) - Connie Converse - How Sad, How Lovely

Once lost to history, Connie Converse’s succinct but brilliant catalog of songs is enjoying a much-deserved revival these days. (I was shocked, delighted, and disturbed to see her turn up in Catherine Lacey’s Biography of X, which, again, I might write about in some future missive.) This song is a great entry point into Converse’s work: there’s ample harmonic interest, her simple yet confident guitar playing, and a lyric that mines pathos from humor, delivered in a voice somewhere between Joan Baez and a 1950’s fifth-grade schoolteacher.

Vine Street - Harry Nilsson - Nilsson Sings Newman

It was while working on an arrangement for Amelia Meath’s side-project, The A’s, that I belatedly got to know, and fall in love with, the Harry Nilsson catalog. Those who only know Amelia from her electro-pop band Sylvan Esso may be surprised to learn that she’s got a deep interest in, and knowledge of, the American Songbook: Nilsson, Newman, Cole Porter, and Jerome Kern are all in her wheelhouse. One of the things that makes this album such an interesting time capsule is that it predates Randy Newman’s reputation as an iconic songwriter. It was both a bold and tremendously generous move on Nilsson’s part to devote an entire LP to Newman’s songs at a time when his own career was still inchoate. I can’t think of a better way to hear Randy’s tunes than in the crystalline arrangements that appear here: Newman’s intricate piano as the foundation for lapidary vocal arrangements from Mr. Nilsson, and little else. (For another reading of this song, do check out Van Dyke Parks’ rendition on his Warner Bros. debut, Song Cycle.

BYEEE - Aaron Embry - BYEEE (single)

If Harry Nilsson had a contemporary soulmate, it might very well be the impish Aaron Embry, whose music I got to know through his association with Blake Mills. Last May, Aaron opened for me in Los Angeles at a little club on a seedy stretch of Hollywood Blvd, and I think it’s fair to say that he stole the show. Aaron is a great piano player, a wonderfully inventive songwriter, and a performer whose androgynous sexual energy is downright irresistible.

Shore / Polska from Dorotea - Danish String Quartet - Last Leaf

Once again, hat tip to Pekka Kuusisto for turning me onto the DSQ’s folk records, and to Pekka for introducing me to the Danish boys, who generously had me at their Series of Four Festival just before the pandemic, and again last November for a pair of collaborative concerts in Copenhagen. The playing and arranging here is peerless; muscular but expressive, taut yet somehow flexible. Their album Wood Works is another gem.

Confessions of a Feckless Rainwear - Chris Weisman - The Holy Life That’s Coming

If my harmonic promiscuity makes a lot of pop music look prudish, then Chris Weisman’s harmonic language makes me look like a Victorian maiden in a chastity belt. Chris is truly prolific: he’s released forty-seven albums on Bandcamp in the last decade, often writing and recording entire LPs in a matter of days. A few years ago, he was tapped by Blake Mills to write songs for the Amazon Prime show Daisy Jones and the Six. The two got along so famously that Blake invited Chris to co-write the entirety of his most recent solo effort, Jelly Road. Very little of Chris’ catalog is on Spotify; head over to Bandcamp and check out Transparency, a stellar double-album that was my entry point into his voluminous catalog.

Under the Table - Fiona Apple - Fetch the Bolt Cutters

Where does one begin to sing Fiona Apple’s praises? As many have observed, Fetch the Bolt Cutters is Fiona at her purest, no filler or additives. It is the record that brings us most directly into her cluttered, beautiful, bruised, and brilliant mind. On song after song, language spills over textures that range from sparse to chaotic, mostly but not always underpinned by Apple’s singular piano playing, which transmits her Fernet Branca chords and voicings: sweet-bitter, brash, delicious, addictive.

Other Song - Caroline Shaw, Sō Percussion - Let the Soil Play Its Simple Part

I’ve learned so much about how to be myself as a musician from observing the grace and lack of self-consciousness with which Caroline moves through the world. With this album, Caroline’s twin paths as composer and songwriter come together beautifully. I love this tune, in particular, and, throughout the album, the production. Those drum sounds!

Märchentänze (Orchestral Version): II. - Thomas Adès, Pekka Kuusisto, Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra - Adès: Orchestral Works

We end with a movement from a new work by one of my heroes—and an influence on so many of my generation—Thomas Adès. His inventiveness with harmony, color, and form never ceases to amaze, and in this work, he’s joined by another unicorn, Pekka Kuusisto, about whom I wrote a few months ago. At any rate, this piece slaps.

Listen to the complete playlist here.

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An afterword: I had thought of putting a portion of this playlist behind a paywall. I spend a good deal of time working on these posts, and it’s tough to justify without remuneration. On the other hand, we live, increasingly, in a musical monoculture. If sharing these songs represents a drop of variety in an ocean of homogeneity, then creating financial obstacles to musical discovery doesn’t feel right. All of this is to say: if you’re in a position to become a paid subscriber, I’d be grateful, but if you can’t or choose not to, that’s fine too!

That’s all for now. Thanks as always for reading…