Jenny Lewis has taken a couple of stabs at greatness over the eight years of her solo career.
2008’s Rabbit Fur Coat is a folk rock pleasure, charming if ultimately forgettable. Acid Tongue, released in 2008, was a more ambitious effort, dabbling in blues rock and featuring a duet with frequent collaborator Elvis Costello. But it, too, had trouble sticking.
When I first learned of 2010’s Lonely Avenue, it sounded too good to be true. Ben Folds, one of my very favorite musical artists, had teamed up with Nick Hornby, one of my very favorite authors.
This is the sort of collaboration you dream up in a fanboy fever dream. I knew Hornby was a fan of Folds (I recall one essay of his about the song ‘Smoke’ that was particularly full of praise) but I had no idea he had aspirations as a lyricist.
I can name a few reasons why Beyoncé’s self-titled December 2013 release belongs on this list.
First is the industry-rattling manner in which it was released — as a complete surprise, with no advance publicity and no online leaks (of its very existence, let alone the music). Nobody imagined such a thing was possible in this era of transparency, let alone by the most visible star in the musical universe.
I don’t know where John Mayer will end up when the history of pop music in the 21st century is written.
Will he be remembered more for his frat-boy antics and failed relationships or for his guitar chops that regularly put him onstage alongside idols such as B.B. King and Eric Clapton — legends who nod to his musical skills as very much in league with their own.
Here’s a cute song from Brad Paisley’s second album, 2001’s Part II. It contains all of the signature qualities that would define his music through the following decade-plus.
It’s short, sweet, funny and features a guitar part or two that sound delightfully out of place in a honkytonk country song.
Meet Me In Montauk 