Grammy worthy
A great record album ought to present an unfolding of tiny gifts. Surprise and wonder. Heartbreak and tenderness. Joy and fun. So far in 2026, I think these two records are grammy-worthy.
Harry Styles, for Kiss All the Time, Disco Occasionally
The album is well-named; Harry Styles is a disco ball of big love spinning above our earth. Styles is currently on his world residency tour and please let me first mention his clothes. Fashion model of pure joy. Runway tailoring by Calvin Klein, Prada, and Dior, in all the beautiful colors of the human rainbow.
Harry’s fourth album is largely dedicated to hypnotic, electronic dance-pop fun. I hear the 80’s and the Oughts emerge; his instrumentation is a blend of techno and organic sounds (listen to the opening of Season 2 Weight Loss).
Then, as if out of the blue, Harry sits at the piano, and orchestral string players sit to form a semicircle around him. Briefly they tune, perhaps meant to be a transitional breath for the audience. And when the music begins, Harry gifts to us Coming Up Roses.
Pizzicato strings color the background in ¾ time; Styles’ lightly graveled voice sweeps over the strings like a smooth layer of frosting: Just for the night we’ll go hangover chasing / and I’ll talk your ear off about why it is safe / as I fumble my words and fall flat on my face through the truth. Subtly, Violin 1 goes to bow, hinting toward the upcoming string interlude.
The string interlude, launched and concluded by the lovely lyric There’s only me and you, feels like perhaps it is meant to be the feature of the entire album, a statement to say that as much musical technology man has invented, nothing may ever compare to our invention of the violin and cello.
By now all the strings have gone to bow, and with long sweeps they soar, reaching for the heavens.
Noah Kahan, for the extended version of The Great Divide
I’m not much for Country or Blue Grass or traditional Folk music, but New England hometown hero Noah Kahan takes these elements and wrings them like a wet towel, snapping them with an Indie-Alternative Folk, big stadium, Fenway Park singalong vibe - let’s go, I’m all in!
I loved Stick Season and Northern Attitude from Kahan’s debut album, but the songs on this record provide the unfolding-gift surprises that take it to the next level. With opener End of August, and the masterful The Great Divide, Kahan knows how to twist a line of poetry to catch in your throat and make you stop singing because suddenly you are about to cry.
My favorite song on the album is Orbiter. Thank God he released the extended version of The Great Divide because it wasn’t on the original.
In Orbiter, Noah is a vulnerable, relatable, human as he expresses his exhaustion, his loss, a feeling of displacement, an awkward, intoxicated moment. Also there is someone he loves, someone at the center of his universe: I’m an astronaut, you’re the moon / I stare at you, I sing to you / I circle you / I circle you. Someone who grows with him, someone who has long lived in the chambers of his heart: I’m an aging wolf who lost the taste for blood / even anxious pups need the moon / I howl for you, I sing to you / I circle you / I circle you / I circle you.
Okay, so Kahan has already pulled me into his orbit by this point, by sharing the magical, painful feeling of loving someone so much it feels as if your life revolves around their very soul. Then Noah gives the unexpected – the melody takes us somewhere new, howling tenderly into the night. The lyric catches in my throat, and I stop singing because I am about to cry:
I’m going to lose you either way / I’m going to lose you either way / I’m going to lose you either way.
