Last year's self-titled, self-released album felt like a major creative breakthrough for Nadler, as she found a very effective way for her distinctive, ghostly songs to coexist with a bit more light and life. The Sister, billed as its companion album, turns out to be something of a lateral move rather than an evolution or continuation. It is certainly more melancholy, spare, and monochromatic than I expected, but it largely overcomes those hurdles by being such a meticulously crafted, focused, concise, and thematically coherent song suite. As a whole, it is perhaps a bit weaker than some of Marissa's other efforts, but some of the individual songs are easily among her best.
It is fitting that this album found a home on David Tibet's Coptic Cat imprint, as it is not only unusual, but unusual in a rather novel way: Thiel's lilting, simple ballads (backed by Michael Cashmore) hearken back to a much more innocent time.  On one hand, her wide-eyed, poetic lyrics and earnest delivery recall the golden age of English folk, but in another (weirder) sense it feels like she is quixotically making pop music for an era that is either long departed or never existed at all.
As a companion piece to Line's reissue of Lovesliescrushing's CRWTH (Chorus Redux) from earlier this year, guitarist/instrumentalist Scott Cortez has also released a work of guitar ambience from the latter portion of the '90s that is simultaneously reminiscent of the era's sonic fringes, yet sounds just as fresh today as it would have then.
Originally released in 2004, the limited quantity and distribution of the original Heart Ache EP surely resulted in a bulk of its listeners relying on less than honest means of hearing it. Now available widely with recently finished EP that began around the same time, it is a wonderful opportunity to hear how things have changed with Jesu, as well as stayed the same, in the past six years.
This 1986 album was the beginning of Zoviet France’s Charm, Ceremony, Chance, Prophecy tetralogy and continued the collective's shift away from harsher textures and lo-fi production towards a cleaner and more restrained aesthetic.  Misfits occupies something of a lull in the Zoviet France discography, as it is not nearly as strong as earlier releases like Eostre, Gris, or Norsch nor does it give much hint of how much potential such a change in direction actually held.  Despite that, it still boasts a few excellent pieces, one of which ranks among the band’s finest work.
This year is a good year for Nurse With Wound-related reissues and this re-release of the collaboration between Steven Stapleton and Tony Wakeford is a good way to finish off 2009. Comprising of the original album on one disc and numerous unused mixes from the original sessions and new remixes from Wakeford and others; this is a good lesson in how to do justice to a classic album. This is a great reissue which has brought back an old favorite from the depths of the deleted release bin.
One of the best international compilations that I heard this year was Tumbélé, which examined the impact of African music on the Caribbean. Africa Boogalo is its logical counterpoint, providing ample evidence that the vigorous cultural exchange of the mid-twentieth century yielded equally stunning results on the other side of the ocean (though not without a certain degree of weirdness).
Psych-folk chanteuse Josephine Foster has always been a reliably unusual and singular artist, but her dissonant, artier tendencies have sometimes detracted from the beauty of her lilting, world-weary voice. With this release, a song-cycle based upon the poetry of Emily Dickinson, that experimental impulse is confined entirely to structure and concept. The result is one of her most ambitious, listenable, and mesmerizing albums, as Foster's gorgeously baroque vocals are finally allowed to swoop and quaver around comparatively simple and traditional melodies.
This split 12” was one of the best musical surprises I’ve had this year, turning up unexpected as it did in my mailbox at the radio station where I do a weekly program. Usually people don’t send vinyl to me at the station (though it is encouraged) just CDRs of mostly forgettable music, hence my happiness in receiving a release that some serious effort went into. When I finally got around to listening to the record I was immediately impressed: the epic drone of Scott Cortez’s side shows him reaching out into the gorgeous expanses of space with masterfully layered guitar manipulation, while Language of Light presents a more animated and alchemical journey.
Hot on the heels of Cosmarama, this time Nick Saloman ventures across the Atlantic to focus on '60s garage rock from the United States. Saloman leaves no stone unturned in bringing these tracks to CD for the first time, making for another remarkably entertaining compilation.
