Like you (I assume), I’ve long since learned to cope with the paralysis that comes from access to the lion’s share of recorded music history at the press of a touch screen. The perceived challenge of infinite music has shifted from over- to underwhelm. The algorithms assume I’m predictable, and worryingly, they are right more often than not. Not so much a paralysis of choice, but the paralysis of being relieved of choice. Inertia, perhaps. Anyway, I seek a middle ground. I would like merely to be whelmed.
So this year, I have (perhaps unsurprisingly) deployed AI in the service of music discovery, though not in the passive ‘play me any old thing you think I won’t dislike enough to switch off’ way that commercial radio aspired to in the 1990s and, for all I know, may still do today. Instead, I have trained an AI agent on the kind of music I like to discover, the labels I like, the tastemakers I tend to agree with, the magazines that find what I consider to be ‘good music’, and I have sent it off on a weekly mission to seek out the new releases that might surprise, delight, challenge and amuse me. I’ve come across some good stuff that way. But I still do the listening and, importantly, the deciding. The AI is more of a helpful intern: “What about this one? Or this?”
I also go looking myself, of course, and Qobuz is pretty good at surfacing a bunch of new and interesting albums every Friday, but it also misses some that may appear on, for instance, The Quietus, Bandcamp Daily or, say, The Guardian, and my cyber intern is always checking those for what it is learning is “my sort of thing”.
As is traditional, I’ve waited until the actual end of the year to post this, and just as well. I found out about one of my highlights of 2025 literally just today, thanks to the end-of-year Irish music roundup radio show by a friend in Galway whose great taste I usually admire from afar, but which, every so often, intersects with my own. Besides, it just seems absurd to call the game in November when December releases are so often the ones that carry you through the darkest days up here in the wintry north.
So anyway, as you’ll no doubt know by now, these are not supposed to be the “best” records of the year (a nonsense idea, objectively speaking), but they are the ones that inhabited my world, and whose world I inhabited.
I’ve made three lists for 2025: TWENTY, TWENTY and FIVE. See what I did there?
Let’s start with the FIVE.
FIVE (favourite albums of the year)
So first up, here are my personal Top 5 albums of 2025. These are the ones you are welcome to judge me by.
1. Sierra Tracks – Vega Trails
2. The Shieling – Fergus McCreadie
I was predisposed to love this. I’ve been following McCreadie’s output for some years, but The Shieling is, if not something entirely different, then a determined refocus and a confident recommitment to the project. Recorded in a remote cottage on North Uist in the Outer Hebrides, it manages to sound like the landscape it was born in: wild, elemental, and stubbornly beautiful. Like if a piano trio could not only play the tunes of a ceilidh, but dance them too. Produced by the brilliant Laura Jurd (whose own work appears later, as part of another list on this same post), it balances the trio’s technical fluency with a lyrical, Scottish-folk-infused melody that feels as old as castles. It is, in fact, extremely Scottish, in the best possible sense (a fireside dram, rather than a biscuit tin), which appeals to me for reasons that are likely as genetic as they are aesthetic.
3. Bag Vore Øjne Strømmer Drømme Sagte Forbi – Hvalfugl
4. There Is Beauty, There Already – Sarathy Korwar
5. Under Tangled Silence – Djrum
TWENTY (albums that soundtracked my year)
A “Top 5” is an inherently cruel exercise. It suggests that everything else was second-rate or substandard in some way, which is patently untrue. If the five above were the records that I would like to say ‘defined’ the year for me, this next list contains the ones that made the year, at the very least, habitable, and at best, a pleasure to participate in.
These are the albums that soundtracked the daily routine. The ones I spun while cooking, that accompanied the dog walks and forest drives and the ones that kept the irritants of the world at bay while I worked, travelled and (occasionally) relaxed. They range from the “reliable old friend doing a cool new trick”, and “inspiring visit to an unexpectedly good art exhibition”, to the “warm bath I really needed at the end of one of those days”.
All of these were high-rotate, and so are, in the end, simply what 2025 sounded like, if you happened to be me.
1. Landscape from Memory – Rival Consoles
If you could make synthesisers weep…
2. The Importance of Birds – Snorri Hallgrímsson
Accessible Icelandic contemporary classical music. Nordic noir soundtrack waiting to happen…
3. Elsewhere – Grandbrothers
A progression from their earlier (wonderful) ‘grand piano and electronics’ to ‘grand piano and even more electronics’…
4. Can You See Me Now? – Amanda Whiting
Welsh harpist with roots in spiritual jazz, an interest in hip hop and some talented friends…
5. The Eternal Now – Chip Wickham
Some of my favourite music comes, as this does, from my friend Matthew Halsall’s Gondwana Records label. This is up there with the best of those releases…
6. Necessary Fictions – GoGo Penguin
A shame this one is not on Bandcamp, though some of their other music is, and all of it is exceptional. This one moves the bar forward, with the addition of vocals in places and some exceptional writing…
7. Simple Things – Britta Virves
Estonian-born, Swedish-based jazz pianist. The sample track with vocals below is not typical of the rest of the album, which is closer to much of what I like about Fergus McCreadie (above)…
8. Sendas – Omar Sosa
Anything by Omar Sosa is worth a listen. This is delicate and subtle – and for a solo piano album, contains a lot of sounds that are not made by the piano…
9. Music For Roads – Tuomo & Markus with Verneri Pohjola
Took me a few goes, but I got there. A road trip soundtrack album made by Finnish psychedelic folk rock artists (sigh) with an exceptional jazz trumpeter. But it’s okay. It’s jazz. It’s just jazz. Enjoy…
10. Pax – Tingvall Trio
A Cuban, a German and a Swede walk into a bar. I’ve listened to a lot of piano trio music this year, and this was one of my favourite examples…
11. Our Calling – Piers Faccini & Ballaké Sissoko
Imagine if Nick Drake went to West Africa…
12. Orbits – The Circling Sun
Very happy to have some kiwi music in the mix, and very my sort of thing. Anything with Julian Dyne is an instant purchase, and Cam Allen is a bonus. Spiritual jazz from my spiritual (and literal) homeland…
13. Spindrift – Benjamin Lackner
Romantic piano jazz recorded in the South of France. What can I say?
14 Poems for Travellers – Emil Brandqvist Trio
Nordic jazz trio. More of this sort of carry on – and very good at it…
15. When It Rains It Pours – Shay Hazan
Tel Aviv based guimbri, bass and guitar player with a foot in tradition, another in jazz and his head in the kind of nightclub I’d actually still consider attending…
16. In the Wind of Night, Hard-Fallen Incantations Whisper – Širom
Slovenian inventors of folk music from imaginary traditions, using a huge variety of strange and sometimes unique instruments. This always works for me, and it’s not their first time in my year-end list…
17. Expanding to One – Phi-Psonics
Bigger band than is usually my thing, but these are some inclusive and community-minded spritual jazz heads, and I loved the previous two albums as well. They win me over every time…
18. Døgnville – Liv Andrea Hauge Trio
Rule of thumb: always check Erik Honoré’s Hubro record label. Not every release is for me, but it’s never not interesting. This was the most straight-up jazz I’ve heard from them, and it’s rock solid…
19. Memories of Home – John Scofield, Dave Holland
Absolute legends absolutely legending. Interesting fact: Dave Holland has worked with Miles Davis and also with me. Not at the same time. Not just a phenomenal all-time great bassist, but a very nice man… And Scofield is the guitarist’s guitarist, isn’t he?
20. Shiraz – Dhafer Youssef
Beautiful album from the Tunisian composer, vocalist and oud master…
TWENTY (albums that brought joy along the way)
And then there were the records that made me smile.
While the previous list was constant companionship, this group was the spark. These are the gems that surprised me. The piece of cake discovered at the back of the fridge. Albums I might not have played every single day (and one I only just discovered in the last 24 hours, but which has already earned its place), but that provided what can best be called delight. Some are fun, some are deeply nostalgic despite being brand new, some are technically dazzling, and some just have a vibe that I couldn’t help but fall for.
It would be remiss of me not to bring them to your attention, because god knows we could all use a bit more joy.
1. GUSTO – Boko Yout
I tend not to do much ‘rock’ these days, but I saw the video for Gusto, and Boko Yout won me over with their “Afro Grunge”. Punk should have been this funny…
2. Sonor – Enji
Mongolian tradition meets serious jazz training. Beautiful voice and absolutely enchanting music…
3. MONUMENT – Shriekback
One of my favourite bands since 1980. Dark, funny, menacing and often solidly funky. Stomping grooves, underwater basslines, squirty synths and reptilian vocals. And you just can’t beat their lyrics. Plumed! starts: “I’m gonna manage the narwhal / I’m gonna handle the beast / I’m gonna scowl at the torpid owl and then call the police.” Wasps In Heaven references Tom Stoppard and Spinal Tap before diving into the sort of rhymes you’d only otherwise encounter if Stephen Fry took up battle rap. Anarchy you can dance (or slither) to.
4. Onda – João Selva
The very first record I bought in 2025 – possibly because I was in need of some sunshine. Late afternoon Brazilian beachfront vibes…
5. Of The Near And Far – Patricia Brennan
The collision of art and science is at the heart of most of what I do, and I love it when it’s expressed so clearly, successfully and with such wonder. This is what happens when a phenomenal vibraphonist and composer becomes obsessed with the night sky…
6. Four Spirits – Abel Selaocoe
Oh, you think you know what a classical cellist does? Watch this.
7. Changing Perspectives – Rebecca Trescher
Clarinet-led chamber jazz that warrants close attention and repeat listens…
8. Rites & Revelations – Laura Jurd
Sophisticated Scottish/English folk meets jazz with appearances from Jurd’s former bandmates from Dinosaur. She also produced one of my five favourites above, so a productive year…
9. In Holiday Clothing, Out of the Great Darkness – Clarice Jensen
Another cellist and composer, this time from the US, and armed with looping pedals…
10. Uncharted Waters – Arve Henriksen, Eivind Aarset, Terje Isungset
You should probably just assume Arve Henriksen will turn up somewhere in my list each year…
11. Mirra – Benedicte Maurseth
The sound of reindeer herding and reindeer herders in the north of Norway accompanies a Hardånger fiddle. I now have two albums matching this exact description, both by Maurseth, and I would happily buy more…
12. Konoma – Takuro Okada
One guitarist’s attempt to create ‘authentic’ Japanese Jazz…
13. Tyrchu Sain – Don Leisure
Translated literally: ‘Digging Sain’. Welsh DJ and beatmaker Don Leisure excavates the 55-year archive of the legendary Sain Records label to create a psychedelic, sample-heavy mixtape that feels less history lesson and more lucid dream
14. Without Wind, Without Air – Roger Eno
Some hints at existential dread underlying the beautiful sonic paintings, but Without Wind, Without Air is not suffocating, just becalmed…
15. Conversations – Alex Ventling & Kim Paterson
My friend Kim Paterson also happens to be one of my all-time favourite New Zealand musicians. I produced an album of his back in the 90s, and he played on many other sessions I recorded. He no longer plays, but he recorded this a little while back when he was in his early 80s. Some standards, some of his own tunes. Just a meeting between musical friends with the tape rolling…
16. New Dawn – Marshall Allen
…but Kim Paterson’s just a youngster in the grand scheme of things. This is 100 year-old saxophonist Marshall Allen’s debut solo record (though he’s led the Sun Ra Arkestra for decades)…
17. After the Wildfire – Jan Bang & Arve Henriksen
Like Arve Henriksen, I always reserve at least one space for Jan Bang on my end-of-year favourites list. And look – here they are together! This was commissioned for the Skopje Jazz Festival and features Macedonian Voices…
18. MYT – Moses Yoofee Trio
Winners of the 2024 German Jazz Awards Live Jazz Act of the Year, the Moses Yoofee Trio explore R&B, hip hop and soul through a jazz lens. Not the first to do it, sure, but they do it well…
19. Blizzard – Dove Ellis
Brand new to me, and a much-appreciated recommendation from my aforementioned Irish friend, Damien. Five-star reviews in the Guardian and elsewhere, and a rush by majors to sign this Galway talent, but all rebuffed. Comparisons to Tim and Jeff Buckley are well-founded, though there’s something else going on here. The line “Love is not the antidote to all your problems” sums up the tone. Falsetto romanticism with a bucket of ice water on hand…
20. After the Last Sky – Anouar Brahem
With Anja Lechner (violoncello), Django Bates (piano), and Dave Holland (bass), oud player (oudist?) and composer Brahem creates a beautiful chamber piece that takes a Paddington-style hard stare at the state of the world.
And those are the lists.
I also listened to a lot of Matthew Halsall, Jasmine Myra, Girls In Airports, Svaneborg Kardyb, Scrimshire, O’o, Kiasmos, Gidge, Ancient Infinity Orchestra, Lady Blackbird, José Gonzáles, Okvsho, Little North, Khruangbin, Why Kai, Henrik Lindstrand, Okonski, Shabaka, Mammal Hands, Sven Wunder, GODTET, Kit Downes, and an embarrassing array of Eurovision hopefuls – but let’s try and keep things somewhat manageable within the space of a single post.
There’s always a temptation to look at an “End of Year” list as a completed project. A definitive statement of taste frozen in carbonite. But I think it’s more of a conversation. Sometimes you’re talking to the zeitgeist, sometimes you’re arguing with it, and sometimes you’re just trying to figure out who you’ve become, musically speaking. Arguably, I’ve become older. I’m okay with that.
Full disclosure: Over the course of 2025, I’ve picked up new favourite albums of 2024 and 2023. I have no intention of going back to change those respective end-of-year blog posts, but just to say that the past has a lot of rooms I still haven’t looked in.
I don’t get told my list is “wrong” as much as I used to (probably a symptom of my withdrawal from the shouting factory of social media), but I am always open to “forgotten” gems. If you have a recommendation, I’m (always) listening. And if you find something in here that’s very much your sort of thing, but that you missed for whatever reason (likely because you’re less obsessive about this stuff than I am), I hope it brings you something like the pleasure it brought me.
Happy New Year, my friend.
