j r bohannon

We round the year’s corner with our annual staff picks, notable mentions, and our most-anticipated releases of 2020.

In a banner year of explosive music, these are the gems we couldn’t get out of our heads—the ones that brought us happiness, punched us in the guts, lit our fires and kept them blazing. As they say, this is what it’s all about.

We hope this list—which runs the gamut from newgrass to avant jazz to fiery blues to acoustic singer/songwriters to every color of rock’s ever-changing rainbow—brings on a few discoveries for those listening. Please let us know in the comments what your picks of the year are, and don’t be shy to tell us what we missed … because sharing is caring!

As we bask in reflection and head chin-up toward 2020, we wish you an illuminating year ahead, full of all the things you love, which most surely includes, since you’re reading this, plenty of musical delights and revelries.


ANDY ELLIS — SENIOR EDITOR


Billy Strings
Home

I can’t get this guy out of my head. Fortunately, Billy’s feral flatpicking, emotive voice, and extraordinary (and often unsettlingly autobiographical) originals are welcome ricocheting around in there. The album’s foundation is 100-percent bluegrass: High, lonesome vocal harmonies hover over virtuosic banjo, fiddle, mandolin, and upright bass. Yet Billy is obviously from another planet. His tones run the gamut from shimmering acoustic to stone psychedelic amped-up flattop, and he plays with the intensity of a man possessed. Bluegrass from Mars? I’ll take it.

Jimi Hendrix
Songs for Groovy Children: The Fillmore East Concerts

When Band of Gypsys was released in March 1970, the U.S. was in turmoil. Cities were literally burning. Tear gas was in the air. At Kent State, student protesters were shot dead by the National Guard. There was a growing generational clash between kids my age and the establishment: Civil rights, women’s rights, and, of course, the Vietnam War were driving seismic societal change, and it wasn’t pretty. Fronting his new trio, Hendrix captured the zeitgeist with songs like “Machine Gun,” “Changes,” and “Power of Soul,” and in a real way—at least to this guitarist—the music heralded the end of the flower-power era. Band of Gypsys was culled from four shows recorded on New Year’s Eve 1969 and the following night. With Songs for Groovy Children, we can now hear all four sets Hendrix and his bandmates Billy Cox and Buddy Miles performed over the course of 48 hours. It’s fascinating to hear Jimi tackle his new material—including the epic “Who Knows” and “Message to Love”—multiple times, giving each version a cosmic twist. The music sounded amazing then and feels equally relevant today.

Most-anticipated 2020 releases: Ben Harper, oud wizards Trio Joubran, and Jerry Douglas.


CHARLES SAUFLEY — GEAR EDITOR


Wet Tuna
Water Weird

Few artists conjure the spirit of gentle, benevolent anarchy quite like Vermont’s foremost homebrew psychedelicist, Matt Valentine. His recent records with MV & EE and as a solo artist are dreamy, hazy artifacts that simultaneously let mind and body wander while thrillingly asserting psychedelic music’s folk-art origins and potency. Here, on Wet Tuna’s second LP outing, he rejoins fellow New England sojourner and Tower Recordings collaborator Pat Gubler (aka P.G. Six) for a joyful, irreverent exercise in space-rock deconstruction that ultimately coalesces into an enveloping, intimate whole as warm and welcoming as firelight on a cold New England night.

Possible Humans
Everybody Split

Grafting a sprawling “Like a Hurricane” solo to a Flying Nun-style Oz/Kiwi-jangle nugget? Sounds like perfection—or heaven—to me. And Melbourne, Australia’s Possible Humans gave us this very gift in the form of “Born Stoned,” an 11-minute centerpiece on a slab otherwise peppered with three-minute jangle-pop gems.


Jason Shadrick — ASSOCIATE EDITOR


Julian Lage
Love Hurts

Over his last three solo albums, Julian Lage has started to cement his place as your favorite guitarist’s favorite guitarist. His great Tele experiment was born on Arclight, matured with Modern Lore, and reached peak melodicism with this collection of mostly covers. Even through the prism of tunes by Roy Orbison, Nazareth (!), Keith Jarrett, and Ornette Coleman, Lage’s otherworldly command of melody, touch, and dynamics is astounding. Big shout out to bassist Jorge Roeder and drummer Dave King for pushing and pulling the music in all the right places.


Ben Rector
Magic: Live From the USA

This album totally caught me by surprise. I wasn’t familiar with Ben’s music at all until I heard him on the supremely excellent podcast Sterloid Talks. Not only are the tunes a collection of finely crafted sing-alongs (imagine a millennial Billy Joel fronting a synth-rock quartet), but the musicianship is outstanding. The rhythmic push and pull on “Old Friends” and the long-jam version of “Loving You Is Easy” are standouts.


Cory Wong
Live in the U.K.

This was the year when musos made their mark. Vulfpeck guitarist Cory Wong dropped three live albums and a studio album in 2019, but this U.K. recording stands out for me. The monologue Wong drops in the opening track, “Lunchtime,” is a how-to guide on how to spot the musicians in the crowd. “You ready to hear some diminished chords?” His tight-as-hell band rips through 20 tracks and sound like they just downed a sixer of Four Loko on “Encore Jam/I’ve Lost My Chops.”

Most-anticipated 2020 releases: Pat Metheny’s From This Place, Sierra Hull, Martin Sexton, and I'm still waiting for one last great Clapton electric blues album.

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Bohannon moved from Louisville, Kentucky, to New York City in his mid-20s, in search of “the weirdest shit I could find. My favorite band at the time was Acid Mothers Temple, and I was listening to lots of Albert Ayler and Sonny Sharrock, so I wanted to move to be around that.”

The Kentucky-bred fingerstyle virtuoso talks about his journey from hating country to adoring it … in his own twisted, indie- and world-music-informed way.

There is a restless energy and enthusiasm in the way J.R. Bohannon speaks. Whether discussing his practice routine, his favorite musicians, or his ambitious musical plans, he’s passionate and effusive. His is an indefatigable spirit. “If this wasn’t the only thing in the world that eased my mind and let me live a normal existence … if I could do anything else, I probably would. But I can’t! This is the one thing that gets me up in the morning, and it’s the one thing I look forward to, going to bed at night.”

While discussing his latest EP, Recôncavo, it’s clear Bohannon is already excited to talk about his next album, Dusk, which is due out sometime this fall. His reason is quite understandable: Though recently re-released (more on this in a minute), Recôncavo was actually recorded a couple of years ago. But we were able to convince him the five-song EP is worth some attention before moving forward, because—in addition to being a record that brings a new angle to the solo acoustic tradition—it’s also a crucial part of Bohannon’s story.

The 31-year-old guitarist left the South for New York in 2009 with his eye on the city’s experimental music scene. He dove in head first, leading the ambient psychedelic solo project Ancient Ocean and jamming in ad hoc improv bands around the city. Once he’d been there a while, he discovered he was ready to rekindle his relationship with the music of his home. “Growing up in Louisville, being around Southern music traditions—country, bluegrass, Appalachian music, things like that—those were things that I heard but didn’t necessarily connect to at that time. I couldn’t stand country music back then because it’s everywhere, it’s shoved down your throat. [But when] I moved to New York, I started rediscovering that music in my own way. And then it gained a new meaning. Now, it’s my favorite music in the world.”

A couple years back, Bohannon decided it was time to get back to basics with a new project that used his own name. He began with a solo acoustic record, taking his time collecting the material for Recôncavo, recording and re-recording songs in various settings until he was ready to self-release the EP on Bandcamp and a small run of cassette tapes in March 2017. The result was a focused exploration of Bohannon’s wide range of deeply investigated personal influences, from the classical guitar music he studied as a teen to the Brazilian music he immersed himself in during college—and, of course, his newfound enthusiasm for country and experimental music. In April of this year, Recôncavo caught the attention of British label Phantom Limb, which was so enthusiastic about the recording that it offered to bring wider attention to it via re-release.

“When I sit down to write something, I do sit down intentionally to write something. I think the whole mindset of writing ‘when it comes to you’ is bullshit.”

We recently chatted with Bohannon about the creative process behind both the EP and his upcoming full-length, and got more of his intriguing backstory.

You first started playing guitar by taking classical lessons when you lived in Louisville, right?
Yeah, I took mostly classical guitar lessons through my teens. I wasn’t really into the idea of classical guitar music, but I liked the techniques. At the time I was listening to a lot of Elliott Smith and Leo Kottke, so I loved the fingerpicking sound but I didn’t necessarily want to play classical music. In Kentucky, you either have to do that or take bluegrass lessons, and I didn’t want to do that either. It was kind of a combination of lessons and self-teaching as well. It was still a pretty early time as far as the internet and tablature goes—you still had to listen to stuff and figure it out for yourself. There was no YouTube, basically, so it was a little more of a challenge. I didn’t start taking it super seriously until I got into college. I grew up in the suburbs and my parents had different expectations than me becoming a musician, so that kind of weighed on me until my mid 20s—that pressure to have some kind of “normal” career. But time goes on and you realize there’s no such thing as a normal career. You just have to go full speed or don’t do it at all, in my opinion.

What sounds were you chasing that led you to move to New York?
Experimental music, free jazz, spastic balls-to-the-wall psychedelic music … the weirdest shit I could find. My favorite band at the time was Acid Mothers Temple, and I was listening to lots of Albert Ayler and Sonny Sharrock, so I wanted to move to New York and be around that. It’s funny because, living in the South—or anywhere where the pace of life is slower—I think it’s easier to digest experimental music, especially recorded, because life is not as chaotic. In New York, life is so chaotic, the last thing I want to do is hear some spastic free-jazz record. I still love that stuff, but I don’t have the space of mind for it on record as I did when I was 21. Now, when I’m home I want to listen to George Jones and ambient records. I don’t want it to take up too much space.


TIDBIT: This free-ranging album assays Bohannon’s treasure trove of influences, focusing primarily on the classical guitar he studied in his teens and the Brazilian music he devoured in college.

Listening to Recôncavo and Dusk, one hears references to American primitive guitar playing—you mentioned Leo Kottke—but also things like Brazilian music. How did that develop?
When I was in late high school, a friend gave me the [1968] self-titled Caetano Veloso record, and I fell in love with it—and with everything about Brazilian music—and got very obsessed. I studied abroad there and spent some time traveling around. I love not only the tropicália stuff, but I love the traditional música popular brasileira—MPB is what they call it. It’s the popular music of Brazil. A lot of those guys had a lot to do with the influence of timing and rhythm in my playing. If there’s one thing that gave to me as a guitar player, it’s that I don’t feel inclined to stay in one tempo or play to a click. I like to just go to my inner rhythm. When I play, I’m shifting in my seat because I’m kind of mustering up all these things in a way that I’m free flowing, rhythmically. I’ve listened to so much Brazilian music and spent so much time with it that a lot of the rhythms have become ingrained in what I do.

Both recordings sound aesthetically focused but use elements of the different styles you mentioned. Each track sounds like it’s thoroughly exploring a concept.
A few years ago, I said I’m going to really make a go at this, at playing guitar, and one thing that was really important to me was to not rush it. I recorded those songs [on Recôncavo] two or three times, and this next record probably three times all the way through, and just scrapped it. I just like to let songs grow over time. You know the way some people like to write and record, and then it’ll grow on the road? I like to do the opposite: I like to record something in its fully realized form, and I want it to be not only technically sound, but it needs the room to breathe. That’s something I strive for—to just let melodies breathe and play slow. I think you hear a lot of someone’s playing in the subtle nuances.

Were all the tracks on Recôncavo recorded in different places? Apparently “Under the Friar’s Ledge” was recorded in a hotel room….
Everything was recorded in different places. I pretty much travel with a mobile rig, just so I can get down ideas. Two tracks were recorded at home, one was recorded at a friend’s house, one was in a hotel room, and the fifth one … I don’t know where it was recorded.

What do you use to record?
I have a Tascam 388 [1/4" reel-to-reel 8-track], and I have some gear at home. I do a lot of recording myself, and everything I’ve done I’ve mixed myself. I’ve never given a record of my own to somebody else to mix. I feel like the way I sculpt things, sound-wise, comes through the way I mix. Maybe not as much on the EP, but on the next record there are a lot of layers. I’ve been making ambient records that are intricately layered for the last decade. I’ll have 50 tracks, and the way I put them together on my own is just as much of a creative process as playing the instrument.

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