It’s back.

What can I say? Real life kind of gets in the way, sometimes. But, on Thursday February 23rd, freethinking nyc is back, back, back. It’s hard to imagine that it’s been nearly a year since the last outing…

It’s time to get back behind the decks, and to unleash nearly a year’s worth of new music – as well as some tried and tested, bona-fide freethinking staples. And, with so much pent-up DJ energy, I will be flying solo for volume 26.

You can expect the same genre-defying mix, taking you from Friends to Lee Fields, from Japan to Fred Wesley, from Herbie Hancock to Grand Funk Railroad, from Happy Mondays to Mos Def. This is about throwing good music at the wall, and seeing what sticks.

All I ask of you: Bring an open mind.

the vig bar
Elizabeth & Spring, NYC
Thursday, February 23rd
8pm – late

NO COVER

I’ll be honest, I’m a bit down on Florence. And her Machine. When I was first introduced to her, and her Machine, I was blown away. My initial reaction was to tweet that I’d just seen the offspring of Siouxsie Sioux, Bjork and Kate Bush up on stage. Her voice was primal – it deserved a space on the periodic table, right next to phosphorous. From nowhere, she’d just completely combust on stage, her voice practically flooring the audience with sheer power. And, when it came to her debut album – released to ludicrously high expectations – it was completely nailed. ‘Lungs’. It couldn’t have been a more fitting album title.

And then it started to go a bit wrong. Not monstrously wrong, just a bit ‘off’. It wasn’t that Florence became massive, it was that she became untamed. In 2009, just a little after ‘Lungs’ had been released, I saw a frankly staggering set at NYC’s Bowery Ballroom. A tiny audience looked shellshocked at what they were witnessing. There was a frisson of excitement throughout the room: it was special. Just a few months later, and I caught Florence play at NYC’s premier crappy venue (which, to be fair is probably not a good start) Terminal 5. The excitement had all but dispersed. It was just, well, too much. Part of the prior appeal was that she held back a little. At earlier gigs, when the full force of Florence’s voice was unleashed on the crowd, it felt like being smacked in the face. At Terminal 5, it suddenly became the modus operandi. And, her voice was not bearing up as well as a result. That, and I suspect more than a few late nights on the sauce. Don’t get me wrong, it was still a great gig – but you could just see a few problems creeping in. you could sense that the bombast was going to be the main thrust of Florence’s work from here on in. Sadly, it looked like the sense of foreboding was well deserved.

I’ll keep my comments about album #2 brief. Let’s just say that the arena-sized ambitions of ‘Ceremonials’ just doesn’t sit well with me. It’s essentially the same album as ‘Lungs’, but with everything turned up. It’s full. It’s just not fun any more.

It feels good getting that off my chest. I’ve been carrying a burden around with me for the last few months. It was prompted (and partially prologued) in my ‘Top 10 of 2011’ post, where ‘Ceremonials’ was resolutely not included. ‘50 Words for Snow’ was, however, called out. An album of sheer brilliance from one of the three ladies called out as the spiritual mothers of Florence. An album soaked in originality, despite its slight nature. An album by Kate Bush.

She’s a freethinker if ever there was one, that Kate. Potentially (probably) bonkers, but giving you a sense that she has more ideas than a brainstorming session full of NASA scientists, you have to acknowledge that she’s a major influence on a ton of other artists. Florence being front of the queue of people who should pay their dues. Natasha ‘Bat For Lashes’ Khan should probably stand right behind her.

There’s nothing wrong with proper, pure pop music. In the late 70s and early 80s, Kate Bush was on an intelligent pop crusade, fuelled by constant invention. ‘Running Up That Hill’ – a tune that still sounds good in the middle of a DJ set. Seriously. ‘Babooshka’ – borderline looniness. ‘This Woman’s Work’ – an emotional sucker punch. ‘Wuthering Heights’ – just sounds like Top of The Pops from the late 70s. ‘Cloudbusting’ – scarcely has a better pop song been written. Even on her 2005 comeback album ‘Ariel’, she managed to knock the ball out of the park with the lead single ‘King of The Mountain’ – an epic return with all the confidence and vigour of a swaggering teenager.

But, the high point in the Kate Bush archives has to be ‘Hounds of Love’. It’s a genuine masterpiece. It’s Peter Gabriel, in female form. It’s got ‘oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo’ as a chanted backing lyric. It just gets the hell on with it, but still builds from a frantic opening into something truly magical. And, in the delivery of ‘and THROOOWWW them in the lake’, it’s got a screamed/grunted vocal to challenge Stevie Wonder on ‘Living for The City’ or Paul McCartney on ‘Hey Jude’. All crazy drums and mad strings, it’s probably the clearest blueprint for Florence. And her Machine. Seriously, what’s not to love?

So 2012 looks like it’s the summer of Madchester Revisited. Bring it on, I say. While I’ve already waxed lyrical about the Resurrection of the Stone Roses, the news that there are other Manchester heavyweights getting back on the road is ‘banging’, as MC Tunes might have had it.

It’s not the first reformation for Happy Mondays. A lot is being made this year of it being ‘the original line-up’, but honestly, it’s hardly a detail that many people will get hung up on. As musicians, they’re hardly at the top of their game – but as I’ve said before: it really doesn’t matter. A Happy Mondays gig isn’t just about the music – it’s about a bunch of blokes up on stage truly not giving a flying fuck. It’s unapologetic, and all the better for it. I saw the Happy Mondays the first time around, and they were truly brilliant. Or, to be more accurate, it was a truly brilliant night. I’ve rarely seen a huge venue (in this case, the Manchester G-Mex) transformed so successfully into a mob of ‘up for it’ fans. In fact, the next time I witnessed anything so similar was at the Brixton Academy, about ten years later, when the ‘we need to pay taxes’ Happy Mondays Reformation Part One took place. So yes, I’m chuffed to bits that we’ve got the Mondays back.

On support duties for Happy Mondays, we have Inspiral Carpets. They were always on the second tier of Manchester bands, for me – but considering the competition to reach the upper echelons, it’s perhaps forgivable. Their material just isn’t as widely known as other Mancunian leading lights. Beyond ‘This Is How It Feels’ (which still comes across like a kick in the stomach), I suspect that most people would struggle to name many of their tunes. ‘Dragging Me Down’, however, is just ace. ‘Saturn 5’ should have been massive. Featuring a rarely-sounding-more-demented Mark E Smith (OK, he sounded more demented as he squealed ‘New Face In Hell’ – and this is a good thing), ‘I Want You’ is just bonkers, and probably the best track they ever knocked out. So yes, I’m also chuffed that we’ve got the cool as fuck Inspiral Carpets back.

And, we’ve got some New Order action coming our way – or at least ¾ of New Order. Call it New Ord. Continuing their brief foray into the spotlight at the end of 2011, there are concerts and the potential promise of new material. Now, I love New Order. Properly love them. And Joy Division. As a kid, I was massively into them. They provided the soundtrack to my early teens, they were a constant through university, and I still can’t get enough of them, now. ‘Atmosphere’ still leads me to find a reason to rub my eyes, pretending that they’re not moist. ‘Blue Monday’ still fills me with nothing but joy. ‘Perfect Kiss’ is still one of the most under-rated Manchester epics. But, I just can’t find the enthusiasm for a New Order reformation. At least, not one without Hooky. My despair at this isn’t just because

¾ New Order < New Order

It’s because the remaining ¼ is off, cashing in on the legacy on his own. I just want to shake all four of them, and tell them to get it together. Ian Curtis would be bloody furious. It just feels wrong.

So that’s three Manc reformations which are unquestionably ‘good things’, and one which really isn’t. To be fair, it’s not a terrible outcome. But, there’s one reformation which looms over all of the above. One Manchester band which would, if they appeared for one show together, would eclipse New Order (all four of them), The Stone Roses, Inspiral Carpets AND Happy Mondays – all on the same bill. And no, I’m not talking about Northside. [As an aside, the last time I threw in a one-liner about Northside, I received a message from a clearly infuriated fan, critical of my ‘snipe’. For the record: I actually liked Northside]

No – the reformation for which I’d pay top dollar, and travel to wherever I needed to be in order to see, is for a band which were already gone by the time of the ‘Madchester’ summer. While they weren’t there, however, their presence was felt. An undercurrent was there. I’m talking about The Smiths. Now THAT would be banging.

Best video ever? Possibly…

Enough. Seriously. Did you really think the original Material Girl would go all Bette Midler, start wearing sequin gowns (though I know, she has) and sing Wind Beneath My Wings sentimental bumph?

Yes? Obviously you have had your head under a rock.

Madge is about to release a new album and head out on a smashing world tour. I already have tickets to her July 17^th show in Hyde Park. Paid an extra £15 to get early access. I can tell you – it will be worth every penny.

Love her or hate her, she is amazing on stage. The first time I saw her was on the Confessions tour. My feet have never hurt so much from dancing. I left the stadium thinking this is the best show (and I mean SHOW) I had ever seen. Next up, the Sticky and Sweet tour. Good, but not quite up to her normal full-on showmanship. Maybe it was the divorce distracting her.

Regardless, as she was carried into the stadium during the halftime show at Super Bowl 2012 in a massive chariot by a legion of Romans, I thought: she is back. Yeah she wobbled a bit in her boots (did you see those heels?) and M.I.A tried to steal the show by giving the cameras the finger (Note: Madonna basically gave the extreme right republican Christian fundamentalists the finger by closing with her most popular, and controversial song, Like a Prayer, in case you missed it) – there is no denying she was pure Madge.

There are critics out there saying she is trying to compete with Lady Gaga. Trying to prove that she still has enough sex appeal to compete with all those young pop stars posting pictures of their nipples on twitter (yes, I mean you Miley Cyrus).

Let me put it this way: Madonna does not have to compete with anyone. Without Madonna, there would be no Gaga. Madonna broke the glass ceiling. In a day in age where pre-fabricated pop stars are a dime a dozen and everyone seems to need auto tune, I am extremely glad for one that Madonna gets up on stage and does what she does. Oh, and for the record, the lady can carry a tune.

Next time you start to think she is too old for (her 24 year old boyfriend, wearing her knickers on stage, getting naked for the camera), ask yourself: would you criticize Tom Jones for being too old to shake his stuff, or have pensioners throw their knickers on stage? If yes, then perhaps it is time to get you a nice cup of tea and turn on some talk radio.

For now though, let’s all sit back and watch Madonna shake her pom poms.

Where is Matt Deighton? He should be one of the UKs most celebrated singer/song-writers, but instead he’s Missing In Action. His recording career has seen him cover a huge territory, from soulful pop to full-on psychedelic rock through to acid-tinged funk. The common thread is about as English as a pint of bitter – folk, but not folk music. Think Nick Drake, Traffic, The Small Faces and John Martyn, but with lashings of Weller. Only better than the sum of the parts. Much better.

It’s with Oasis that most people probably know Matt Deighton. He famously stepped in to fill the shoes of Noel Gallagher on tour, after one of many brotherly breakups. Guitarist for hire duties were not limited to Oasis. For a short while, Matt was also the guitarist in Weller’s solo band (if memory serves, it was the Heavy Soul tour). I remember a mate – definitely a mate, and not me – shouting requests for Matt Deighton songs when we saw Weller play. Alcohol may have been involved…

But, there’s so much more to him than merely playing a support role to other musicians. As the front man of Mother Earth, Matt Deighton was also responsible for some of the most exciting music to come out of the Acid Jazz scene in the mid 90s. Tracks like ‘Jesse’, ‘Stoned Woman’ and ‘Find It’ are absolute stone-cold classics. If you’re not familiar with them, then I can’t recommend a dip into the Mother Earth back catalogue highly enough.

But, the psychedelic-rock and acid-funk of Mother Earth really don’t capture the heart of Matt Deighton’s song-writing prowess. Mother Earth was fun – really good fun – but it’s more an appetizer to the main course.

Through five solo albums – and one beautifully crafted project with Chris Sheehan as The Bench Connection – Matt Deighton demonstrated a rare ability to craft pitch perfect folk-tinged pop. It’s a crime that these six albums are not held up in high praise on a regular basis. Moreover, they’re albums which are pretty much all but forgotten. Seriously – you try a search on Matt Deighton on the internet. You’ll come across an old MySpace site (retro!), a few articles, discography links, and a few videos on YouTube. It’s hardly the set of results you’d expect from one of the UKs most talented song-writers. You can tell he pours everything into his music. It’s heart on the sleeve territory, but with such unabashed honesty that you feel nothing but compassion when he shares feelings about where life goes wrong, and shared joy when things are on an upturn.

Featuring guest appearances from Paul Weller, Ernie McKone, Steve White, Marco Nelson, Chris Difford (Chris chuffing Difford!), Mick Talbot, – and I was reminded last week – the mighty Brian Auger, Matt Deighton’s solo work is a pure treasure trove. It’s grown up music. Earlier albums also feature the spectacular vocals from freethinking favourite Nicola Bright-Thomas – his then wife.

It started with ‘Villager’ – an album that couldn’t sound more like an idyllic English summer if it tried (‘Pure English Honey’ is probably the best representation of this). I don’t say this lightly, but in my opinion ‘Villager’ is a serious contender for the best album put out on the Acid Jazz label (OK, if there are any pedants, it was the ‘Focus’ imprint, but my statement stands). What’s not to love about an album containing a song called ‘Jesus Loves The Rain’?

From there, ‘You Are The Healer’ took a similar formula, but perfected it even further. ’72 Minutes To Switzerland’ is one of the most beautiful songs you’ll hear. Or – you probably won’t hear, as it’s nowhere to be found, these days. It’s a glorious album – heartfelt, and full of life. You can sense the creativity involved in the making of the album came from a place of deep content with the world. You should be able to get it on prescription as a cure for depression.

‘The Common Good’ is Matt Deighton at his most Weller-esque. ‘Finger of Rain’ could be taken straight from ‘Stanley Road’. And, to be fair, it’s tons better than the material which was put out by Weller at around the same time. Highly recommended…

‘Wake Up The Moths’ was a while in the making – and it’s fairly apparent that things were less rosy in Matt Deighton’s world. Beck may have opened his heart on ‘Sea Change’ – Matt Deighton did likewise here, to devastating effect.

Matt’s last solo album was released nearly three years ago. ‘Part of Your Life’ was less compelling than previous offerings, but mainly because it came on the heels of the aforementioned project with Chris Sheehan: The Bench Connection.

‘Around The House in 80 Days’, the only material which The Bench Connection released, was – and still is – a sublime album. ‘Young At Last’ is a song which will stay with you for many years once you’ve heard it. Weathered, and dripping with the wisdom of a life lived, it’s a breathtaking piece of song-writing. ‘Saint Want’ is a tune that’s begging for more widespread awareness. Honestly – I can scarcely think of an album so richly deserving of critical acclaim.

I managed to catch Matt Deighton – and Nicola Bright-Thomas – at one of their 12 Bar Club gigs in London in the early 2000s, and it was just electric. A venue large enough to be a living room – a New York living room at that – and a song-writer so absolutely in tune with his craft that the intimacy of his words was enough to stun the audience. In a world where James Blunt can sing ‘You’re Beautiful’, and people swoon, or where Coldplay bang out any old shite and people go mental, or even where Damien Rice sings ‘The Blower’s Daughter’ to garner a massive following – just why did it never work for Matt Deigthon?

I return the to Matt Deighton / Nick Drake comparison. Sadly, with Nick Drake the public pretty much missed the boat when the material was first released. It’s like the same mistake has been made again. Sort it out, people.

Today we remember Martin Luther King, Jr. He was a freethinker of the highest order. He was someone for whom freedom became a life’s work. He changed the world. In 1963 he had a dream.

Thank you Gil Scott-Heron. Thank you Stevie Wonder. Thank you for making sure that we will always remember. Thank you for leading your own change. In the early 80s, they ensured that the celebration of civil rights would always have a place on the calendar.

Now, Gil Scott-Heron has gone. There’s no celebratory concert at SOBs in downtown Manhattan. At least his memoirs (‘The Last Holiday’), recalling the campaign to introduce a Federal Holiday in honour of Martin Luther King, Jr have now seen the light of day. In 2012, let’s leave it to a youthful Gil Scott-Heron to remind us why Martin Luther King, Jr was important.

For me, movie soundtracks fall into four categories: soundtracks that are the film (think Tommy, The Wall, Hard Days Night); soundtracks that are part of the movie dialogue (musicals like Grease, Evita and any Disney animated flick really); soundtracks that are both from and inspired by (in many cases, but not all, the music in the movie was mostly crap, and to make some additional cash they added a few songs you might actually want to listen to) and soundtracks that play such an important role in the flow of the film that even if you hear a few notes, the film replays in your mind or an emotion is sparked.

You know the ones – Star Wars (the first series of movies) and the Imperial March instantly brings to mind the determined walk of Darth Vader (though they also played this at my university pep rallies when the faculty walked in, so I also think of professors marching in black ceremonial robes); A few notes of The End by The Doors and I think destruction, not Jim Morrison (which is a shame really); and really, who cannot hear Steelers Wheels’ ‘Stuck in the Middle With You’ and grab onto your ears?

I love it when a soundtrack can transport you back, or move you in a way you shiver. The soundtrack to the film ‘Drive’ is like that. Its 80s electronic beats and melodic, sometimes soothing, sometimes frantic score composed by Cliff Martinez (ex of the Red Hot Chili Peppers), sends chills down my spine, recalling the emotions, action and tension of each scene. Having just watched the film (if you haven’t GO), the music is as much a part of the film as Ryan Gosling and the scorpion jacket worn by his character.

Without the soundtrack I am not sure the movie would be as memorable and compelling as it is. It is violent – yet the soundtrack almost excuses the graphic actions. There is a lot of driving in car shots, that with the wrong backing track, would have been…well…just driving in car shots. Instead, you at first feel the isolations of driving and then the sweetness of driving with someone you love.

It is a slow burn film, moved along at the perfect pace by well-placed music that changes how you watch the film, how you feel about each scene and character – and inevitably changes how you remember the film. The music in Drive provides more than just background music it provides the emotion.

Go on. I challenge you to turn on ‘Nightcall’ and not move your head just a bit, and think of Gosling’s leather gloves as he drives through the night. Or play ‘Bride of Deluxe’ and smile at the thought of Gosling driving off as the sun sets.

Better yet – just go and buy the record.

It seems that José James was put on Earth in order to breathe fresh life into an entire genre. His voice is a pure gift from heaven – it eclipses jazz greats such as Mark Murphy (I truly mean this). His voice has more texture, more silk. You could picture his voice pouring off the stage of a smoky New York jazz club in the 60s. It sounds effortless. Pure emotion. Pure feeling. It’s staggering.

‘The Dreamer’ was my introduction to the world of José James. Included on the first volume of Gilles Peterson’s ‘Brownswood Bubblers’ series, it was clear from the opening bars that this was something special. Rarely have a bass and a trumpet sounded so laid back. It’s like someone took ‘Summertime’, and found the very essence of the tune – stripping it to its core. Into this dreamy soundscape, alongside a piano sounding so delicate that it could buckle at any moment, José James’ hushed tones emerge. It’s just a beautiful moment in music. In seven minutes, José James staked a claim at the top table of jazz.

Now three albums into his career, José James is carving out a niche. Part jazz (the track ‘The Dreamer’ was a perfect foreshadowing of what would follow on the debut album, also of the same name), part soul (as evidenced on his dancefloor-oriented second album ‘Blackmagic’), but with an ear towards innovation – I’d love to think that he’s nailing the kind of output that Marvin Gaye always sought for himself. Even on an album of jazz standards (with Jef Neve on keys), José James manages to bring his own delivery, his own style. It’s like a respectful updating of musical output from the jazz forefathers. Forget vocalists such as Michael Bublé stomping all over jazz standards – this is where it’s at.

When lending his vocal talents to other projects, José James shines. ‘Little Bird’ was a clear standout track on Jazzanova’s ‘Of All The Things’ release. It showcases the full range of his vocal output, from a whisper to a full force gale. Astonishing. Jazzanova are perhaps the perfect foil for José James’ talents. They each strive for a fresh perspective on jazz roots – bringing in new influences to flesh out their creative direction.

Last night I was in the audience at the Jazz Standard in New York City, and witnessed the next stage in José James’ evolution. NYC Jazz clubs may no longer be the smoky cellars that they once were, but the intimacy of the setting was perfect for a soul/jazz masterclass. José James’ influences were writ large throughout – from Coltrane (a spellbinding rendition of ‘Equinox’ opened the set), through Roberta Flack (‘Feel Like Making Love’ was referenced) to Freddie Hubbard (the hook from ‘Red Clay’ is always welcome in my books). Perhaps the most poignant moment came when José James broke into the one-two of ‘Winter In America’ and ‘The Bottle’. RIP GSH.

In an hour long set, referencing Coltrane, Freddie Hubbard, Roberta Flack and Gil Scott-Heron may sound like there’s not much room for ‘breathing fresh life into jazz’. Wrong. In interpreting material of such grandeur, José James was setting his stall out – acknowledging the roots of his sound, but moving it forward. With respect, with dignity, and with flair, it was all woven into a breathtaking journey through straight ahead jazz, beatboxing, vocal improvisation, and sweet, sweet soul music.

The respect shown on stage wasn’t just for the musical forefathers – it was also for each of the band members. Kris Bowers, on keys, will be a name to look out for. His solos were wonderful – he tamed the piano like few I’ve seen before. Nate Smith was getting sounds out of the drums which I frankly never thought possible. We’re into new favourite drummer territory. Holding it together was Solomon Dorsey, on bass – nailing a deep groove at the drop of a hat. Taylor McFerrin stunned the audience when he stepped up to guest (and, to be fair, it seemed like he was stunning the band, too). I’ve seen beatboxing before, but never – and I mean never – anything even remotely as close to this. And here we have it, the moment that one of the unspoken influences crops up to peak its head above the surface: soul/jazz and hip-hop.

It wasn’t just about paying tribute. A couple of standout – new – tracks helped to show that José James is leading a charge. He’s finding new ground. ‘It’s All Over Your Body’ built from a complex drum intro into some nasty soul that D’Angelo would be proud of. It was filthy. ‘Do You Feel’ just had tons of space – the band could stretch out, and flow. Pure magic.

José James, breathing new life into jazz? He’s doing a bloody good job of it.

Where it started: ‘The Dreamer’

Lending vocal talents to the mighty Jazzanova on ‘Little Bird’

Channelling Coltrane for ‘Equinox’

The perils of writing a ‘best albums of the year’ list are many. First of all, I know that I’ll be missing some albums which probably deserve to make the cut. Last year, for example, while calling out I Am Kloot’s ‘Sky At Night’ as the album of the year (which I still stand resolutely by), I criminally overlooked output from Foals and Janelle Monáe in my end of year list. Still, rules is rules, and I’m working with what I’ve got for now. If I was to come back in a month’s time, this list may well change.

Secondly, ten is a tough number to come down on. There are tons of solid albums that just don’t make the cut. So, Bjork, Friendly Fires, Joan As Police Woman and Noel Gallagher all fail to make the cut this year.

Finally, there’s the disappointment of albums which you really wanted to live up to expectation, and just fail to deliver. Step forward, Florence.

PJ Harvey – ‘Let England Shake’
So – diving into my top ten for 2011, let’s just cut to the chase. This has been a year of fine music. But, I think it’s fair to say that one album absolutely dominates. It would be borderline perverse to call out a ‘best of’ list, and select any other album as the highpoint for 2011. In amongst a bumper crop of releases, this year we were treated to what is already a classic album. Immediately hailed as a masterpiece – and rightly scooping the Mercury Music Prize, this year has to belong to PJ Harvey for ‘Let England Shake’. It’s a towering achievement. It’s like a punch to the stomach every time I hear it. The album delivers on every conceivable level. So much has already been said of this album, it’s probably time to move on – just to acknowledge the brilliance of every twist, and every turn, and to state as fact that ‘Let England Shake’ is an album which we’ll all be listening to for years to come. And, that it’ll always sound magnificent. That, and it contains the lyric ‘God damn Europeans, take me back to beautiful England’. Marvellous.

The balance of my top ten is a true freethinking list – it’s a clash of genres. Some is absolutely predictable to regular freethinking visitors, some probably not. So, in no particular order, here are ‘the other nine’ of my top 10 for 2011…

Beastie Boys – ‘Hot Sauce Committee, Part Two’
More retro than Gary Coleman completing a Rubix cube while wearing a set of Air Jordans – somehow The Beastie Boys managed to sound as fresh as they ever have in 2011. What comes across at first as the sound of grown men dicking about in a recording studio is in fact an object lesson in whip smart sampling, tight grooves, and piss-funny rhyming. Seriously, what’s not to love about the Beastie Boys?

Radiohead – ‘The King of Limbs’
While I’ll happily admit to being a bit blind when it comes to Radiohead (they could probably have made this list with a set of Nana Mouskouri covers), I’ll stand up for TKOL as long as night follows day. ‘Lotus Flower’ sounds like Radiohead having fun – yes, fun. ‘Codex’ takes the melancholy of ‘How To Disappear Completely’ and ‘All I Need’ and ups the ante even further. It’s an album which satisfies on every listen. You can’t ask for more from The Best Band on The Planet.

TV on the Radio – ‘Nine Types of Light’
A serious contender for the number one slot – ‘Nine Types of Light’ is a truly astonishing album. ‘Will Do’ and ‘Second Song’ are two of the strongest tunes of the year. Any album containing both of them has to be on to something. Blurring the boundaries between rock and funk – but in a far more sophisticated manner than Red Hot Chilli Peppers could ever even imagine – TV on The Radio sounded like a band on a mission.

Seun Kuti and Egypt 80 – ‘From Africa With Fury’
Fela’s dead, long live Fela! Seun Kuti, ably assisted on production detail by Brian Eno, has knocked out an album of afro beat deserving of the Fury in the title. It’s angry, it’s politicised, and it’s funky as hell. Staying still to this is not an option.

Jez Kerr – ‘Numb Mouth Eat Waste’
Jez Kerr has been evolving his sound for the last 30 years as a member of Manchester legends A Certain Ratio. His debut solo album acts as a continuation in this aural evolution – taking in the dirge of early ACR, and more contemporary electronica. The journey takes in Ralph Myerz, northern gallows humour, and Kraftwerk influences. There won’t be many ‘best of’ lists calling out Jez Kerr’s debut solo album, and there’s one reason: people just don’t know about it. Lead singles ‘Rip You Right Back’ and ‘Play Sumthing Fast’ should be Mancunian classics by now. The introspection of ‘Reason I Feel Like An Alien’ (earlier recorded under the moniker Twenty Four Hours) is as accomplished piece of songwriting as you’ll hear. Hopefully, off the back of a solid Guardian review earlier in December, this could change, and one of the albums of 2011 will find a solid audience in 2012.

Charles Bradley – ‘No Time For Dreaming’
Picking up the mantle from Lee Fields for 2011, Charles Bradley showed us that having been around the block a few times was no bad thing. Backed by the same group of guys behind the El Michels Affair, The Menahan Street Band and, essentially, Lee Fields’ Expressions – this is as much an album belonging to the Dunham Records, Truth & Soul and Daptone scene as it is to Charles Bradley himself. Dripping with soul, and knee-deep in a life lived at the tough end – it delivers for the head, the heart and the feet.

Anna Calvi – ‘Anna Calvi’
Going right back to January, Anna Calvi’s debut album is a statement of intent. From the slow burn of the opening track ‘Rider To The Sea’, through to the guttural ‘Suzanne and I’, Anna Calvi nailed it to the wall. Live, she’s a force of nature. On record, the ferocity may be tamed, but it’s still devastating.

Kate Bush – ‘50 Words For Snow’
Yes, an album with guest vocal duties from Elton John has made the cut. Subtle, understated, and haunting – this is Kate Bush knocking the ball out of the park without even breaking sweat. In a year where the opulence of Florence + The Machine was celebrated for their ‘Ceremonials’ release, it seems fitting that Kate Bush (AKA Florence Mark 1) could show the heavy drinking upstart how to actually do it. With style, grace, and flourish. Given the choice between the bombast of ‘Ceremonials’ or the lightness of touch of ’50 Words For Snow’, I’ll take the latter any day. Even if Elton’s on it.

Elbow – ‘Build a Rocket Boys!’
While Elbow’s new material didn’t reach the heights of ‘The Seldom Seen Kid’, it was still wondrous. It’s an album about family, childhood, optimism, home. Not exactly the most rock ‘n’ roll topics, but by Christ it works. ‘Lippy Kids’ provided the pulsating heart of 2011 – an anthemic celebration of childhood, shot through with northern charm.

There you have it; the freethinking guide to the ten best albums from the last twelve months. Next year we have more from I Am Kloot, incoming material from Lee Fields, and a follow up to the Merury Prize winning debut from The xx. Oh, and a little something where Paul Weller promises to be ‘groundbreaking’: ‘Sonik Kicks’. Sign me up.

It’s Christmas. And, have I got a treat for you?

Over the last few months, I have – like so many others – become mildly addicted to turntable.fm. For the uninitiated, it’s social networking brought to music. You enter a ‘room’, and five DJs take it in turns to play music. Play the wrong track, and you get booted off stage. Different ‘rooms’ have different themes – you’ll find indie, dubstep, classical, and even freethinking represented. There’s also a space which is fast becoming legendary: the Funk and Soul Cave. I’ve heard more lost funk and soul rarities over the last couple of months than I have for years. People who know a little about music, coming together to share their passion – and opening their virtual crates to the masses. It’s great. I said ‘mildly addicted – in truth, it’s probably more like crack.

And so, with Christmas upon us, here’s an outrageously good slab of funk to celebrate the season. I heard this tune earlier in the week in the Funk and Soul Cave. Whoever played it – and I truly can’t remember for the life of me which regular it was – deserves a sack load of funk to be delivered down their chimney tonight. It immediately became a seasonal staple for me.

I couldn’t wait to share this. If you haven’t heard it before, Funk Machine’s ‘Soul Santa’ is about to become a part of your Christmas. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.

While the freethinking movement is about blurring genre boundaries, keeping it funky is a common theme. There’s always room for funk and soul in your life.

Merry Christmas