Michael Head, the joy of the present moment

A clinical look at his career shows large patches of white here and there. Ten albums in almost forty years, no more? It can indeed sound like a cushy rhythm, even if the long repeating formats do not guarantee quality – right Kevin Morby or Ty Segall, excellent artists who blur their own trace in history by dint of survey exits every six months. But make no mistake: ten albums is huge on the Michael Head scale. A pure miracle, even, which you have to be aware of each time you listen.