Our Top 10 albums lists by genre begin with our staff picks for the best of Country, Folk & Blues this year. Click "next" at the bottom of the page to read through the albums one by one, or use the list below to skip ahead to your favourites.
Top 10 Country, Folk & Blues Albums of 2013:
To see more of our Year-End Top Tens , head over to our Best of 2013 section.
10. Lee Harvey Osmond
The Folk Sinner
(Latent)
Dim lights, minor keys, lonely harmonicas, rockabilly rhythms, lurching waltzes, ghostly pedal steel guitars, luminescent vibraphones — it's all tied together by the finest collection of roots rockers in Ontario's Golden Horseshoe with Lee Harvey Osmond's The Folk Sinner. The only one missing seems to be Daniel Lanois, though his spiritual presence is felt.
Helmed by songwriter Tom Wilson (Blackie and the Rodeo Kings) and producer Michael Timmins (Cowboy Junkies), with guest spots from Oh Susanna and Hawksley Workman, among others, the (unfortunately named) Lee Harvey Osmond display the confidence of lifers who don't need to prove anything to anyone, don't need an ego boost and don't want to waste a single note. The relaxed atmosphere brings out the best in everyone, especially Wilson as a songwriter. His voice, particularly the extremities of his lower register, suit the mood perfectly, never more so than on the voice and upright bass reinvention of Gordon Lightfoot's "Oh Linda."
As for Timmins, this might be the most satisfying album he's been involved with since the Junkies' Trinity Session, so when sister Margo shows up to duet on the closing track, "Deep Water," it ties together the last 25 years of a roots music community dedicated to strolling off the beaten path. (Michael Barclay)
9. The Highest Order
If It's Real
(Idée Fixe)
It was Simone Schmidt's year in 2013. Bouncing back from the breakup of alt-country heroes One Hundred Dollars, Schmidt proved that she hadn't lost her ability to tell a harrowing tale better than many others in this country. Her second release of the year, Fiver's slow-rolling Lost the Plot, was a closer relative to One Hundred Hundreds, but it was the April release of the Highest Order's If It's Real that really elevated Schmidt's position as one of the country's preeminent country songwriters.
Showcasing as much of her love for psych as it does country, Schmidt steers the band through an album rich in depth and clarity. Schmidt weaves a pensive countrified jam into a transcendent and all-encompassing psych stomp on "Rainbow of Blues," one of the album's standout tracks.
While One Hundred Dollars saw Schmidt voicing the pains of her wandering soul, she adopted a sense of resolution on If It's Real. "Luxury Liner," a cover of the Gram Parsons classic, might come across as a simple, plaintive blues-driven offering, but peel away the layers and there's evidence of Schmidt's evolving abilities as an interpreter. (Editor's note: an earlier version of this write-up cited "Luxury Liner" as a Schmidt original.)
Simone Schmidt has a very clear idea now of who she is as a songwriter, and the Highest Order is one of a few signs from Schmidt of more good things to come. (Joshua Kloke)
8. Phosphorescent
Muchacho
(Dead Oceans)
It's safe to say Phosphorescent (a.k.a. Matthew Houck) fulfills the prophecy outlined on Muchacho track "Down to Go": "You say, 'Oh, you'll spin this heartache into gold' / And I suppose, I ain't got much choice now do I though?"
The sixth studio recording from Phosphorescent unfurls sorrow as though over a pink desert skyline, adding a sparkle to the dust, a glimmer of fiery hope to the sunset. Yeah, it's gold; think Songs: Ohia on a cosmic trip through the badlands of Sierra Madre, all plaintive strings, luminous guitar and soulful yearning down to the last hazy, harmonized yelp (here represented by "Sun's Arising (A Koan, An Exit)"). Lyrically, Muchacho was influenced by experiences in and around the time spent touring his previous album, Here's to Taking It Easy (2010), coloured by falling-outs, drug and alcohol use, and a relationship lost.
Muchacho seems like pretty standard classic country crooning fare, until you realize Houck is shaping heartache in new and surprising ways. Rippling electronic beats provide a rich and devastating momentum for "Song for Zula," while full-blooded alt-country jam "The Quotidian Beasts" swirls in a state of sweet delirium. Houck's voice crackles and caws when it wants to, mellowing out to make quiet promises on "Muchacho's Song." It's rambunctious, sure, but this wild thing is beautiful. (Sarah Bauer)
7. The Milk Carton Kids
The Ash & Clay
(Anti-)
The rise of Los Angeles duo Kenneth Pattengale and Joey Ryan seems abrupt, considering they only formed in 2011. Yet, they have already released three albums, the last and greatest of which found a home on the esteemed Anti- Records. They've also toured with the likes of k.d. lang and Old Crow Medicine Show, and their style speaks to a classic folk lineage dating back generations, from the Everly Brothers to Gillian Welch, so it feels more like destiny than the chance win in genre roulette for which many new artists hope.
The Ash & Clay is defined by a clean acoustic sound, two early '50s guitars doing battle, over which the duo's heartstring-plucking harmonies deliver wistful lyrics laced with nostalgic melancholy, political fervour, colourful storytelling and a subtle sense of humour. Ryan ends up playing support for much of the record, his personality coming to the fore more in his wry, deadpan banter when they perform live, but his selflessness on these recordings forms a base that helps to bring the undeniable genius of Pattengale into greater relief.
The subtle magic of Pattengale's nimble guitar work is all over this album, threading the line between jaw-dropping skill and tear-jerking emotion in his teased out solos on "Years Gone By" and "Memphis," and burning down the barn on "Honey, Honey" and "Heaven." With The Ash & Clay, the Milk Carton Kids show they have the lyrical poetry and performance prowess to challenge the likes of Simon & Garfunkel. They're that good. (Alan Ranta)
6. Laura Marling
Once I Was an Eagle
(Ribbon)
What does Laura Marling have to do to gain the attention of North America? Nominated for three Mercury Awards in her native UK, the 23-year-old is the bookish girl who doesn't exude the hipster flash or outspoken attitude that drives our flavour-of-the-week music press.
Composed of 16 gorgeously clever folk songs, Once I Was an Eagle is somehow just as focused and bare as it is sprawling and ambitious. Whether she's matching Fiona Apple's shadowboxer phrasing-style on "You Know," Bob Dylan's smart-ass confidence on "Master Hunter" or Nick Drake's hopeless vulnerability on "Love Be Brave," Marling's fourth full-length simultaneously sounds sorrowful and carefree, like a lover with no choice but to laugh at the futility of heartbreak.
Unofficially split into two parts and divided by the strange ragtime "Interlude," Once I Was an Eagle shows off both sides of Marling's intricate and imaginative songwriting style, as the first four tracks wonderfully blend into each other to create a vulnerable, naive suite. Over the album's last eight songs, Marling becomes giddy and playful before the closer, "Saved These Words," brings it right back to square one, crafting a song-cycle fuelled by naked emotion rather than descriptive narrative. (Daniel Sylvester)
5. The Deep Dark Woods
Jubilee
(Six Shooter)
It has been gratifying to see Jubilee elicit critical raves at home and abroad, as it's the best album yet in the strong discography of Prairie roots-rockers the Deep Dark Woods. Yes, they largely adhere to the template they have honed over their earlier albums, but the work of wunderkind Californian producer Jonathan Wilson (Father John Misty's Fear Fun) fully captures their haunting and widescreen sound. He helps beef up a psychedelic feel on some cuts too, while the recording locale of a remote cabin in Alberta enhanced the rustic vibe.
Mainman Ryan Boldt's songwriting remains lyrically eloquent, while bandmates Chris Mason and Clayton Linthicum also contribute effectively to the writing. New guitarist Linthicum really impresses, and it'll be interesting to see the impact he has on the band moving forward. Jubilee concludes with a slowly building 10-minute-plus epic, "The Same Thing." More of the same in the future will be just fine. (Kerry Doole)
4. Basia Bulat
Tall Tall Shadow
(Secret City)
The cover of Basia Bulat's Tall Tall Shadow suggests maturity, fragility, emotion. When you know of her talent, it's hard not to pay attention to such detail. She has a certain vulnerability and softness to her lyrics that suggests covers aren't an overlooked detail in her album construction. And then you press play.
The title track takes the feeling of vulnerability away. The colourful rhythms are a reason to smile; there's no sadness. Crescendos, subtle instruments, depth in sound and an upbeat sound introduce the album. On the first listen, you hear her creative freedom.
Accompanied by her trademark charango, her voice roars fragility. Tall Tall Shadow is raw feeling all the time. The reassuring denial of "It Can't Be You" is near-impossible not to relate to, while the spare, sombre piano of "From Now On" is a sure tearjerker.
Tall Tall Shadow is all about pleasure, love, the pain of losing a loved one and regret. Very few artists manage to dig as deep into themselves as Bulat does here. Because of it, Tall Tall Shadow is one of the greatest in its genre this year, and seems primed to stand the test of time. (Allison Van Rassel)
3. Neko Case
The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You
(Anti-)
Of course Neko Case is awesome. Of course she runs with impeccable company. Of course she's evolved from the alt-country pigeonhole she started in. And of course she can sing her ass off. We've known all that for the better part of 15 years now.
What's changed is her evolution as a writer: both lyrically and musically, and in ways that it's impossible to separate the two. As a poet, she's all show and no tell; you're welcome to read whatever you want into these songs based on her interviews, but they are wide templates rich with metaphor and imagery. Likewise, her approach to instrumentation, arrangement, production and songcraft — and it's Case, grossly underrated as a producer, who is calling all those shots — creates vivid worlds within each song, be it the rousing brass in "Ragtime," the a cappella tone poem of "Nearly Midnight, Honolulu," the New Pornographic romp of "Man," the sparse, empathetic reading of Nico's "Alone," or the aching melancholy, love and regret that drive "Calling Cards" and "City Swans."
As she enters her 40s, Case refuses to coast, instead pushing and challenging herself to greater heights. She's a fighter and a lover, and she's on your side. (Michael Barclay)
2. The Sadies
Internal Sounds
(Outside)
The Sadies are one of those rare bands where every album only gets stronger as the members put on more mileage. Having formed nearly two decades ago in Toronto, the group developed a reputation for their incendiary live performances, whether it was in a dingy bar or the expanse of a plush-seat theatre. With Internal Sounds, the band's 16th full-length album (including live and collaboration albums), the Sadies' live prowess has finally caught up to them in the studio.
Helmed by the Good brothers, the Sadies once again take country-noir influences and fuse them with a smorgasbord of styles, including reverb-heavy surf instrumentals, alt-country and power pop. Call it roots-Canadiana or whatever; the Sadies are currently one of the country's most distinct acts.
Even with the tense, oft-droning parts — check out the sitar-infused track "We Are Circling" featuring vocals from Buffy Sainte-Marie — Internal Sounds is still the Sadies at their most ferocious, as psychedelic garage punk guitar riffs abound amidst slow-burning rhythms, balanced by the inclusion of harrowing spaghetti western flourishes.
The band's legion of diehard fans will have already made up their mind which album is their favourite, but Internal Sounds is a clear high point in the Sadies' catalogue. (Chris Morin)
1. Daniel Romano
Come Cry With Me
(Normaltown)
It's not very often that country music challenges the nature of art, but that's precisely what Daniel Romano did with this album. His third solo effort was an unabashed tribute to country music's pre-1965 golden era, filtered through his own experience as a Southern Ontario kid raised on punk rock. In songs such as "Middle Child" and "Two Pillow Sleeper," he cast his bucket deep into the well of emotion from which George Jones and the Louvin Brothers drew as well, paying full attention to the undeniable craftsmanship that went into making those records.
While many derided Romano for being a mere copyist, the point of Come Cry With Me was that this is music very few people — and no one else in Canada — are willing or able to make anymore. Much like director Guy Maddin's work in silent film, Romano's choice to expressive himself through a seemingly restrictive mode forced listeners to confront the ghosts of country music, what their lives stood for, and what their legacies mean today.
Current Nashville stars may still drop Hank Williams's name as a token of respect, but his spirit is more prevalent in the ex-punks like Romano who have always sought the most direct possible route to the heart. Come Cry With Me transcended what many today think they know about country music, presenting a collection of songs as heartbreaking, humourous, and above all, timeless as those that inspired them. (Jason Schneider)
Top 10 Country, Folk & Blues Albums of 2013:
- 1. Daniel Romano - Come Cry With Me
- 2. The Sadies - Internal Sounds
- 3. Neko Case - The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You
- 4. Basia Bulat - Tall Tall Shadow
- 5. The Deep Dark Woods - Jubilee
- 6. Laura Marling - Once I Was an Eagle
- 7. The Milk Carton Kids - The Ash & Clay
- 8. Phosphorescent - Muchacho
- 9. The Highest Order - If It's Real
- 10. Lee Harvey Osmond - The Folk Sinner
To see more of our Year-End Top Tens , head over to our Best of 2013 section.
10. Lee Harvey Osmond
The Folk Sinner
(Latent)
Dim lights, minor keys, lonely harmonicas, rockabilly rhythms, lurching waltzes, ghostly pedal steel guitars, luminescent vibraphones — it's all tied together by the finest collection of roots rockers in Ontario's Golden Horseshoe with Lee Harvey Osmond's The Folk Sinner. The only one missing seems to be Daniel Lanois, though his spiritual presence is felt.
Helmed by songwriter Tom Wilson (Blackie and the Rodeo Kings) and producer Michael Timmins (Cowboy Junkies), with guest spots from Oh Susanna and Hawksley Workman, among others, the (unfortunately named) Lee Harvey Osmond display the confidence of lifers who don't need to prove anything to anyone, don't need an ego boost and don't want to waste a single note. The relaxed atmosphere brings out the best in everyone, especially Wilson as a songwriter. His voice, particularly the extremities of his lower register, suit the mood perfectly, never more so than on the voice and upright bass reinvention of Gordon Lightfoot's "Oh Linda."
As for Timmins, this might be the most satisfying album he's been involved with since the Junkies' Trinity Session, so when sister Margo shows up to duet on the closing track, "Deep Water," it ties together the last 25 years of a roots music community dedicated to strolling off the beaten path. (Michael Barclay)
9. The Highest Order
If It's Real
(Idée Fixe)
It was Simone Schmidt's year in 2013. Bouncing back from the breakup of alt-country heroes One Hundred Dollars, Schmidt proved that she hadn't lost her ability to tell a harrowing tale better than many others in this country. Her second release of the year, Fiver's slow-rolling Lost the Plot, was a closer relative to One Hundred Hundreds, but it was the April release of the Highest Order's If It's Real that really elevated Schmidt's position as one of the country's preeminent country songwriters.
Showcasing as much of her love for psych as it does country, Schmidt steers the band through an album rich in depth and clarity. Schmidt weaves a pensive countrified jam into a transcendent and all-encompassing psych stomp on "Rainbow of Blues," one of the album's standout tracks.
While One Hundred Dollars saw Schmidt voicing the pains of her wandering soul, she adopted a sense of resolution on If It's Real. "Luxury Liner," a cover of the Gram Parsons classic, might come across as a simple, plaintive blues-driven offering, but peel away the layers and there's evidence of Schmidt's evolving abilities as an interpreter. (Editor's note: an earlier version of this write-up cited "Luxury Liner" as a Schmidt original.)
Simone Schmidt has a very clear idea now of who she is as a songwriter, and the Highest Order is one of a few signs from Schmidt of more good things to come. (Joshua Kloke)
8. Phosphorescent
Muchacho
(Dead Oceans)
It's safe to say Phosphorescent (a.k.a. Matthew Houck) fulfills the prophecy outlined on Muchacho track "Down to Go": "You say, 'Oh, you'll spin this heartache into gold' / And I suppose, I ain't got much choice now do I though?"
The sixth studio recording from Phosphorescent unfurls sorrow as though over a pink desert skyline, adding a sparkle to the dust, a glimmer of fiery hope to the sunset. Yeah, it's gold; think Songs: Ohia on a cosmic trip through the badlands of Sierra Madre, all plaintive strings, luminous guitar and soulful yearning down to the last hazy, harmonized yelp (here represented by "Sun's Arising (A Koan, An Exit)"). Lyrically, Muchacho was influenced by experiences in and around the time spent touring his previous album, Here's to Taking It Easy (2010), coloured by falling-outs, drug and alcohol use, and a relationship lost.
Muchacho seems like pretty standard classic country crooning fare, until you realize Houck is shaping heartache in new and surprising ways. Rippling electronic beats provide a rich and devastating momentum for "Song for Zula," while full-blooded alt-country jam "The Quotidian Beasts" swirls in a state of sweet delirium. Houck's voice crackles and caws when it wants to, mellowing out to make quiet promises on "Muchacho's Song." It's rambunctious, sure, but this wild thing is beautiful. (Sarah Bauer)
7. The Milk Carton Kids
The Ash & Clay
(Anti-)
The rise of Los Angeles duo Kenneth Pattengale and Joey Ryan seems abrupt, considering they only formed in 2011. Yet, they have already released three albums, the last and greatest of which found a home on the esteemed Anti- Records. They've also toured with the likes of k.d. lang and Old Crow Medicine Show, and their style speaks to a classic folk lineage dating back generations, from the Everly Brothers to Gillian Welch, so it feels more like destiny than the chance win in genre roulette for which many new artists hope.
The Ash & Clay is defined by a clean acoustic sound, two early '50s guitars doing battle, over which the duo's heartstring-plucking harmonies deliver wistful lyrics laced with nostalgic melancholy, political fervour, colourful storytelling and a subtle sense of humour. Ryan ends up playing support for much of the record, his personality coming to the fore more in his wry, deadpan banter when they perform live, but his selflessness on these recordings forms a base that helps to bring the undeniable genius of Pattengale into greater relief.
The subtle magic of Pattengale's nimble guitar work is all over this album, threading the line between jaw-dropping skill and tear-jerking emotion in his teased out solos on "Years Gone By" and "Memphis," and burning down the barn on "Honey, Honey" and "Heaven." With The Ash & Clay, the Milk Carton Kids show they have the lyrical poetry and performance prowess to challenge the likes of Simon & Garfunkel. They're that good. (Alan Ranta)
6. Laura Marling
Once I Was an Eagle
(Ribbon)
What does Laura Marling have to do to gain the attention of North America? Nominated for three Mercury Awards in her native UK, the 23-year-old is the bookish girl who doesn't exude the hipster flash or outspoken attitude that drives our flavour-of-the-week music press.
Composed of 16 gorgeously clever folk songs, Once I Was an Eagle is somehow just as focused and bare as it is sprawling and ambitious. Whether she's matching Fiona Apple's shadowboxer phrasing-style on "You Know," Bob Dylan's smart-ass confidence on "Master Hunter" or Nick Drake's hopeless vulnerability on "Love Be Brave," Marling's fourth full-length simultaneously sounds sorrowful and carefree, like a lover with no choice but to laugh at the futility of heartbreak.
Unofficially split into two parts and divided by the strange ragtime "Interlude," Once I Was an Eagle shows off both sides of Marling's intricate and imaginative songwriting style, as the first four tracks wonderfully blend into each other to create a vulnerable, naive suite. Over the album's last eight songs, Marling becomes giddy and playful before the closer, "Saved These Words," brings it right back to square one, crafting a song-cycle fuelled by naked emotion rather than descriptive narrative. (Daniel Sylvester)
5. The Deep Dark Woods
Jubilee
(Six Shooter)
It has been gratifying to see Jubilee elicit critical raves at home and abroad, as it's the best album yet in the strong discography of Prairie roots-rockers the Deep Dark Woods. Yes, they largely adhere to the template they have honed over their earlier albums, but the work of wunderkind Californian producer Jonathan Wilson (Father John Misty's Fear Fun) fully captures their haunting and widescreen sound. He helps beef up a psychedelic feel on some cuts too, while the recording locale of a remote cabin in Alberta enhanced the rustic vibe.
Mainman Ryan Boldt's songwriting remains lyrically eloquent, while bandmates Chris Mason and Clayton Linthicum also contribute effectively to the writing. New guitarist Linthicum really impresses, and it'll be interesting to see the impact he has on the band moving forward. Jubilee concludes with a slowly building 10-minute-plus epic, "The Same Thing." More of the same in the future will be just fine. (Kerry Doole)
4. Basia Bulat
Tall Tall Shadow
(Secret City)
The cover of Basia Bulat's Tall Tall Shadow suggests maturity, fragility, emotion. When you know of her talent, it's hard not to pay attention to such detail. She has a certain vulnerability and softness to her lyrics that suggests covers aren't an overlooked detail in her album construction. And then you press play.
The title track takes the feeling of vulnerability away. The colourful rhythms are a reason to smile; there's no sadness. Crescendos, subtle instruments, depth in sound and an upbeat sound introduce the album. On the first listen, you hear her creative freedom.
Accompanied by her trademark charango, her voice roars fragility. Tall Tall Shadow is raw feeling all the time. The reassuring denial of "It Can't Be You" is near-impossible not to relate to, while the spare, sombre piano of "From Now On" is a sure tearjerker.
Tall Tall Shadow is all about pleasure, love, the pain of losing a loved one and regret. Very few artists manage to dig as deep into themselves as Bulat does here. Because of it, Tall Tall Shadow is one of the greatest in its genre this year, and seems primed to stand the test of time. (Allison Van Rassel)
3. Neko Case
The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You
(Anti-)
Of course Neko Case is awesome. Of course she runs with impeccable company. Of course she's evolved from the alt-country pigeonhole she started in. And of course she can sing her ass off. We've known all that for the better part of 15 years now.
What's changed is her evolution as a writer: both lyrically and musically, and in ways that it's impossible to separate the two. As a poet, she's all show and no tell; you're welcome to read whatever you want into these songs based on her interviews, but they are wide templates rich with metaphor and imagery. Likewise, her approach to instrumentation, arrangement, production and songcraft — and it's Case, grossly underrated as a producer, who is calling all those shots — creates vivid worlds within each song, be it the rousing brass in "Ragtime," the a cappella tone poem of "Nearly Midnight, Honolulu," the New Pornographic romp of "Man," the sparse, empathetic reading of Nico's "Alone," or the aching melancholy, love and regret that drive "Calling Cards" and "City Swans."
As she enters her 40s, Case refuses to coast, instead pushing and challenging herself to greater heights. She's a fighter and a lover, and she's on your side. (Michael Barclay)
2. The Sadies
Internal Sounds
(Outside)
The Sadies are one of those rare bands where every album only gets stronger as the members put on more mileage. Having formed nearly two decades ago in Toronto, the group developed a reputation for their incendiary live performances, whether it was in a dingy bar or the expanse of a plush-seat theatre. With Internal Sounds, the band's 16th full-length album (including live and collaboration albums), the Sadies' live prowess has finally caught up to them in the studio.
Helmed by the Good brothers, the Sadies once again take country-noir influences and fuse them with a smorgasbord of styles, including reverb-heavy surf instrumentals, alt-country and power pop. Call it roots-Canadiana or whatever; the Sadies are currently one of the country's most distinct acts.
Even with the tense, oft-droning parts — check out the sitar-infused track "We Are Circling" featuring vocals from Buffy Sainte-Marie — Internal Sounds is still the Sadies at their most ferocious, as psychedelic garage punk guitar riffs abound amidst slow-burning rhythms, balanced by the inclusion of harrowing spaghetti western flourishes.
The band's legion of diehard fans will have already made up their mind which album is their favourite, but Internal Sounds is a clear high point in the Sadies' catalogue. (Chris Morin)
1. Daniel Romano
Come Cry With Me
(Normaltown)
It's not very often that country music challenges the nature of art, but that's precisely what Daniel Romano did with this album. His third solo effort was an unabashed tribute to country music's pre-1965 golden era, filtered through his own experience as a Southern Ontario kid raised on punk rock. In songs such as "Middle Child" and "Two Pillow Sleeper," he cast his bucket deep into the well of emotion from which George Jones and the Louvin Brothers drew as well, paying full attention to the undeniable craftsmanship that went into making those records.
While many derided Romano for being a mere copyist, the point of Come Cry With Me was that this is music very few people — and no one else in Canada — are willing or able to make anymore. Much like director Guy Maddin's work in silent film, Romano's choice to expressive himself through a seemingly restrictive mode forced listeners to confront the ghosts of country music, what their lives stood for, and what their legacies mean today.
Current Nashville stars may still drop Hank Williams's name as a token of respect, but his spirit is more prevalent in the ex-punks like Romano who have always sought the most direct possible route to the heart. Come Cry With Me transcended what many today think they know about country music, presenting a collection of songs as heartbreaking, humourous, and above all, timeless as those that inspired them. (Jason Schneider)