“Us and the Moon” – Tugboat Captain

Amiable melancholy

“Us and the Moon” – Tugboat Captain

A sad and persistent keyboard figure provides the sturdy backbone for this subtly well-constructed tune. The keyboard melody is soon handed off to a violin, and those two instruments proceed to intertwine with great countermelodic purpose, continually augmenting the vocal melodies without ever matching them. Tugboat Captain’s front man, identified only as Sox, sings with a tenderness that accentuates “Us and the Moon”‘s amiable melancholy, lyrics floating by just beyond full comprehension. As you continue listening, an elusive logic nearly but not quite reveals itself, something possibly to do with that unflagging instrumental motif. The song is a mood, an escape hatch, a benediction.

Tugboat Captain is a five-piece band from South London; they’ve been around nearly 10 years, albeit with shifting personnel–only Sox and bassist Joshua Cobb remain from the original lineup. “Us and the Moon” is a track from their latest album, All At Once. The band was previously featured on Fingertips in April 2023 for the song “Flash of Light.”

“Chrysalide” – Cédric Dind-Lavoie

Fetchingly tactile instrumental

“Chrysalide” – Cédric Dind-Lavoie

Instrumentals don’t often sneak through the gateway here, largely because my ears seem to need a human voice in the mix. Mind you, I don’t need to understand what the voice is saying–I don’t in fact pay too much attention to lyrics as a general rule–but I seem somehow to require words with my music, at least in the realm of the non-classical. (With classical music, for me, it’s the reverse: no words is the preference. Go figure.) When a song has no vocals I seem to lose my bearings a bit; I find it more difficult to delineate what sparks the ineffable joy that I seek in music, which for 20-plus years has driven my desire to post what I post.

But here is “Chrysalide,” from Canadian composer and multi-instrumentalist Cédric Dind-Lavoie, and it definitely trips the mysterious inner wire that says “Share this.” I think it begins with the nearly three-dimensional soundscape that greets us as the song gathers itself in the opening moments. We get a stark keyboard drone (perhaps a harmonium?), quickly joined by a bass and fully three-dimensional percussion that fetchingly mixes electronic and organic sounds. It’s a rhythm section you can all but reach out and touch. Some dreamy synth flourishes add to the texture; and when the acoustic guitar joins in it’s almost as if it’s sitting in your lap so tactile and crystal-clear is the sound. “The goal is not grandeur but proximity,” says Dind-Lavoie’s press material, “an enveloping sonic environment that invites listeners inward.” That’s unusually well-stated for press material, not to mention accurate.

The piece is brisk and engaging, unfolding in a manner both well-ordered and ongoingly unpredictable, up to and including those electronic burbles that materialize in the final 40 seconds or so. You’ll find “Chrysalide” on the album Collages (2019-2022), which was released in April and finds the composer revisiting music he had previously written for contemporary dance and documentary film. You can check the whole thing out on Bandcamp. Dind-Lavoie is based in Montreal and has one of those multi-faceted resumes that you’ll often find amongst musicians who hang out in avant-garde circles. I tend to like it when such folks tip-toe into offerings that grab the ear without needing an advanced degree to appreciate.

“Whenever You Want Me Too” – The Greenberry Woods

Timeless power pop

“Whenever You Want Me Too” – The Greenberry Woods

Power pop is one of rock’n’roll’s most elusive genres, as well as one of its most enduring: it was never quite born, never quite arrived, and has never quite gone away. At its best power pop takes rock’n’roll and filters away the dross and excess and macho rebellious posturing and gives us only songs memorable for their hooks and their heart. At the same time it’s a genre dependent on tone, songwriting mechanics, and melodic prowess, as opposed to being identified by a particular decade and/or an overriding sonic characteristic; difficult to describe succinctly, the genre is subject more than most to “I know it when I hear it” recognition. Personally, I point to unerring melodicism, a particular sort of shimmering guitar tone, delightful chord progressions, (bitter)sweet-sounding choruses, and yearning vocals, often featured in harmony, as hallmarks of the genre.

Surely “Whenever You Want Me Too” qualifies. The guitars jangle, the chords gratify, the vocals yearn, and the melodies are sweet without being sugary. No new ground is being covered, but that’s one of the beauties of power pop: at its best the genre self-generates via the easy appeal of its timeless elements. But don’t overlook the subtle songcraft involved in making something this effortless-sounding. One random example is the unexpected chord heard at 2:24; this is the third time we hear the chorus but this one quick wrinkle enhances the song if only because of the care on display, the knowingness to make such a subtle alteration in the first place. Even the more-clever-than-it-initially-looks title, “Whenever You Want Me Too” speaks to attentive craft.

The Greenberry Woods have power-pop bonafides dating back to the ’90s, when the Baltimore-based band were signed to Sire Records by the legendary Seymour Stein (he who also signed the Ramones, Talking Heads, the Pretenders, and Madonna, among many others). The first album, 1994’s Rapple Dapple, garnered decent attention but the follow-up, Big Money Item, in 1995, suffered from both internal tensions within the band and inconsistent promotion, Sire having been recently taken over by Elektra. The band was dropped from the label and disbanded in 1996. They initially reunited in 2018 to release an album of previously recorded but unreleased material. And now, this year, the Greenberry Woods are, against all odds, releasing a long-awaited new album, called It’s All Good, Sugar…, complete with that ellipsis.

A cute harmless world

Eclectic Playlist Series 13.02 – April 2026

While I am not alone concretely speaking–I have a devoted long-term partner as well as supportive friends and family members, near and far–I often feel pretty isolated. Some of that is the nature of being a writer, as well as someone who has always prized his solitude. That kind of aloneness I am used to and honestly don’t mind. The more troubling sense of isolation that gnaws at my psyche is cultural, and rooted, I’m pretty sure, in the technological “advances” that have been thrust upon us for the last 25 years or so. I feel so deeply removed from social media realities that I cannot comprehend the mindset that would have a person endlessly scrolling an Instagram feed (which–conveniently–has no end), hungry for whatever one goes there for. Neither can I fathom a daily consciousness that would priortize staring at a smartphone screen while, for instance, simultaneously walking down a sidewalk (or–I’ve seen this plenty of times–riding a bicycle). The seemingly simple solution is not to keep your phone quite so nearby at all time, but the device was purposefully designed to be grabbed and held and attended to, the physical world be damned.

As social media addiction has become the norm, with users mired in their own feeds, following an ever-striving, algorithmically-directed raft of micro-celebrities, my personal removal from social media’s trappings and machinations leaves me wondering what kind of overlooked and isolated world I am inhabiting. I understand that there are positive aspects to online activity but to me they don’t justify the widespread psychological and emotional devastation wreaked by unregulated tech companies sociopathically intent on maximizing user engagement. I don’t want to be a part of a world that has so widely abandoned thoughtfulness and nuance, not to mention kindness, compassion, and interpersonal bonhomie. But it’s kind of our world now so where does that leave me?

If you’re here perhaps you’re at least sometimes wondering the same thing. In any case, thanks for stopping by for another taste of this idiosyncratic world of mine, which is occasionally cute and always harmless.

Which this month sounds like this:

1. “Red Light Spells Danger” – Billy Ocean (single, 1977)
2. “Why Don’t You” – Squeeze (Trixies, 2026)
3. “Basement Apartment” – Sarah Harmer (You Were Here, 2000)
4. “Strait Old Line” – Split Enz (Conflicting Emotions, 1983)
5. “Come Tomorrow” – Patti Scialfa (Rumble Doll, 1993)
6. “Beggin'” – The Four Seasons (single, 1967)
7. “Joy” – Dry Cleaning (Secret Love, 2026)
8. “Echo” – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club (Wrong Creatures, 2018)
9. “It Makes No Difference” – The Darling Buds (Crawdaddy, 1990)
10. “The Windjammer” – Grant Green (Green is Beautiful, 1970)
11. “Golden Lights” – The Smiths (b-side, 1986; Louder Than Bombs compilation, 1987)
12. “You Don’t Know Me” – Ben Folds (feat. Regina Spektor) (Way to Normal, 2008)
13. “All Cried Out” – Dusty Springfield (Dusty, 1964)
14. “Think About the People” – Osibisa (Osibisa, 1971)
15. “Flood” – Stella Donnelly (Flood, 2022)
16. “Walking in the Sun” – The Zombies (unreleased single, 1965)
17. “Cleopatra” – The Lumineers (Cleopatra, 2016)
18. “It’s Love” – Jill Scott (Who is Jill Scott? – Words and Sounds, Vol. 1, 2000)
19. “Chain Letter” – Todd Rundgren (Runt: The Ballad of Todd Rundgren, 1971)
20. “Roam” – The B-52’s (Cosmic Thing, 1989)

Random notes:

* The semi-legendary British band Squeeze had their heyday from the late ’70s to the mid-’80s, even as their releases into the ’90s remained pretty darn good. After laying low for a couple of decades, the band’s songwriting core of Glenn Tilbrook and Chris Difford have cranked things up again over the last 10 years or so, releasing albums in 2015 and 2017 that largely flew under the radar. They return this year with a full concept album, about a fictional night club called Trixies, with an intriguing twist: Tilbrook and Difford wrote the entire thing when they were teenagers. They never recorded it in part because they didn’t think they were good enough musicians at the time to play what they had written. The whole album is a fun listen; “Why Don’t You” in particular has the sort of irresistible hook characteristic of their best creations.

* Osibisa was founded in London in the late ’60s by four musicians from West Africa and three from the Caribbean. “Think About the People” was the closing track on the 1971 self-titled debut album, which went to #11 on the UK chart. The album was produced by Tony Visconti and engineered by Roy Thomas Baker. Although many of the original members have died, the band lives on; its most recent album is 2021’s New Dawn. According to Wikipedia, “osibisa” means “criss-cross rhythms that explode with happiness,” and who am I to argue. (Thanks to James from “James Writes Stuff” for leading me to this one.)

* The lovely backing vocals heard on “Golden Lights” came from none other than the late great Kirsty MacColl. Kirsty also sang backup on “Ask,” and recorded a cover of “You Just Haven’t Earned It Yet Baby” on her 1989 album Kite. Interrelatedly, Johnny Marr co-wrote two songs with Kirsty on Kite, and later created the signature riff on her acclaimed single “Walking on Madison,” on 1991’s Electric Landlady.

* Flood (2022) is the second album from Australia’s Stella Donnelly, following her 2019 debut Beware of the Dogs. A third album, Love and Fortune, was released in November 2025.

* The Four Seasons’ “Beggin'” has had an extensive second life over the years, most likely propelled, initially, by the song’s inclusion in the popular Broadway jukebox musical Jersey Boys, in 2004. Next came a remix by a French DJ named Pilooski, which appeared on a Four Seasons compilation CD in 2007 and itself hit the charts in the UK. Later that same year, the Norwegian duo Madcon did their own version of the song, which became popular throughout Europe. Most recently, the Italian band Måneskin covered the song in 2017; when the band won the Eurovision contest in 2021, the song ended up going viral on TikTok and subsequently reached number one in nine countries and the top 10 in 15 others. The song has, furthermore, been covered in a variety of different languages. For all its permutations, I think there’s no topping the original, written by Four Seasons keyboardist Bob Gaudio and singer/songwriter Peggy Santiglia (under the pseudonym Peggy Farina).

* The Darling Buds released three albums during their original incarnation, dating from 1986 to 1993. Crawdaddy was the second. Their early history was that of yet another buzzy band that gained quick critical traction, signed to a major label, only to flame out due to commercial indifference. With a re-vamped lineup, but still featuring lead singer Andrea Lewis Jarvis, the band reactivated in the 2010s, and released an EP of new material in 2017. They appear to be actively playing gigs to this day.

One day it all disappeared

Eclectic Playlist Series 13.01 (February 2026)

January has come and gone, as it does. But talk about “bleak midwinter”: here in the Northeast US, Philadelphia specifically, we’ve been encrusted by great piles of snow that have refused, for weeks, to melt–unusual for a standard winter here, but logical enough given the ongoing Arctic cold, which may finally be relenting. Without conscious effort, this latest mix reflects a bit of the hunkering down we weather-bound folks have been doing–one part melancholy introspection, one part bittersweet determination. Don’t miss a magically effective segue from Blue Rodeo into Sinéad O’Connor, as they blend together on the exact same note. I’d like to say I planned that but it’s actually more fun to have stumbled into it. I actually do a fair amount of stumbling to craft these mixes; it’s all good.

On an unrelated note, pondering current events more generally, I can’t help remarking that I’ve been writing this blog for 22-plus years and barely put my name on it. Then again I’m neither an extravert nor a narcissist nor a monumentally insecure kleptocrat so what do I know? The mentality of requiring things to have one’s name on them, in any case, is entirely foreign to me. The man should be pitied for being such a faulty specimen of human being if he weren’t doing so much damage to our worthy institutions, stabilizing norms, and collective spirit. And yet I can’t arrive at pity at this point; despair and anger seem easier to land on.

Back to the music, here’s what you’re in for:

1. “None of This Will Matter When You Are Dead” – Club 8 (Seasonal Echoes, 2025)
2. “Til I Am Myself Again” – Blue Rodeo (Casino, 1990)
3. “It’s All Good” – Sinéad O’Connor (single, 2003)
4. “Throwing Stones” – Grateful Dead (In the Dark, 1987)
5. “I Saw You Blink” – Stornoway (Beachcomber’s Windowsill, 2010)
6. “Backlash” – Freddie Hubbard (Backlash, 1967)
7. “Quiet Eyes” – Sharon Van Etten (Past Lives soundtrack, 2023)
8. “Breakaway” – Gallagher and Lyle (Breakaway, 1976)
9. “TV Reality (The New Plague)” – Contramano (Unsatisfecho, 2007)
10. “Do You Wanna Hold Me” – Bow Wow Wow (When the Going Gets Tough, The Tough Get Going, 1983)
11. “I Can’t Hold On” – Lorraine Chandler (single, 1966)
12. “Just Two Girls” – Wolf Alice (The Clearing, 2025)
13. “I Looked Away” – Derek & the Dominos (Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs, 1970)
14. “Oh Oh” – Shout Out Louds (Ease My Mind, 2017)
15. “In Indiana” – Brenda Kahn (Epiphany in Brooklyn, 1992)
16. “Europe After the Rain” – John Foxx (The Garden, 1981)
17. “Sidestepping” – Doris Henson (Give Me All Your Money, 2005)
18. “There’s No Way Out of Here” – David Gilmour (David Gilmour, 1978)
19. “Lights Out (Read My Lips)” – Katydids (Katydids, 1990)
20. “Walking Past the Graveyard, Not Breathing” – Hem (Departure and Farewell, 2013)

Random notes:

* The recent Wolf Alice record, The Clearing, is a winner all the way through. Give it a listen; I don’t think you’ll be sorry.

* I am miles away from being a Deadhead but I did want to honor the memory of Bob Weir, who died in January. “Throwing Stones,” a late-history Grateful Dead composition, is at once expansive and resolute, with Weir’s distinctive, breathy vocals front and center. The album it’s on, 1987’s In the Dark, was “unexpectedly popular,” according to Wikipedia, going double platinum in the U.S. It was their second-to-last studio album.

* Founded by singer Susie Hug and guitarist Adam Seymour, Katydids were a short-lived British band with an appealing vibe. They released two major-label albums and were dropped, splitting up shortly thereafter. The first album, represented here, was produced by none other than Nick Lowe. After a few solo efforts in the first decade of the 21st century, Hug got back together with the band for two EPs in 2014.

* Sinéad O’Connor had sung with Damien Dempsey, who wrote “It’s All Good,” on his version of the song, released in 2003 on his album Seize the Day. O’Connor’s indelible rendition was initially available that same year as a promotional single–and a free and legal MP3 at the time, as I recall; it then appeared among the rarities and one-offs collected on a compilation album entitled She Who Dwells in the Secret Place of the Most High Shall Abide Under the Shadow of the Almighty, a two-disc set also released in 2003. The album is not available on Spotify so you won’t see it on the EPS master playlist. (But there are 2,094 other songs there you might want to spend some time with.)

* Speaking of a song not on Spotify, the original studio recording of Gallagher and Lyle’s “Breakaway” is also missing in action–as are all of the Scottish duo’s eight albums from their 1970s heyday. On the aforementioned Spotify master list I’ve subbed in a fairly similar live recording from 1977. The song, meanwhile, was much more well known at the time via Art Garfunkel–it was the title track to his 1975 album and a top-40 US hit. Sticklers may note that Garfunkel, whose version predated Gallagher and Lyle’s by a year, broke the title into two words for the song while retaining the one-word title for the album, for reasons lost to history.

* Sharon Van Etten was specifically approached by director Celine Song to write a song for the end credits to her movie Past Lives–a charming film if you haven’t seen. She collaborated with composer/engineer Zachary Dawes. The accompanying video evokes the movie’s warm wistfulness.

* John Foxx’s long and winding career, in and out of the music industry, began as a college student in the late ’60s. In 1974, as lead singer, he formed a band initially called Tiger Lily. After a few aborted name changes, they settled in 1976 on the name Ultravox and began to gain some renown, if not record sales, for their pioneering synth-rock sound. Foxx left the band in 1979, and while his former band went on to mainstream new wave success, he took a left turn into a variety of electronic-oriented projects both as a solo artist and in many different collaborations. He’s one of those musicians as beloved by a cult following as he is overlooked by the casual music fan. “Europe After the Rain” comes from his second solo album, in which you can still feel the connection to his Ultravox output.

* Contramano was a Brookln-based indie band in the 2000s who released two albums and more or less disappeared. But front man Pablo Cubarle, a multi-instrumentalist whose spiky cello lines are heard here in “TV Reality (A New Plague),” is still out there on the edge of the music world, posting the occasional demo. (Try his latest, posted this month: “Thom Yorke Says.”) He otherwise identifies himself these days as a freelance photo retoucher. “TV Reality” was originally featured here in 2007. In case you’re curious, the Spanish word contramano has no direct translation in English, but can be thought to mean “the wrong way” or “against traffic.”

“Radio Player” – Josaleigh Pollett

Dynamic mini-journey

“Radio Player” – Josaleigh Pollett

Dramatic and expansive, “Radio Player” builds, over a pulse-like beat, to the sort of catharsis you don’t hear much in algorithm-land. The song gets under your (i.e., my) skin, delivering an affecting amalgam of sound and texture, underpinned by evocative noise and incisive beats. The end result is something at once sharply contemporary in its soundscape and staunchly old-school in its attention to craft. Let it play a few times and see how it grows in stature.

At the center of “Radio Player” is a deft transition from an electronic/synthesizer-oriented palette to an acoustic-guitar-centric section, achieved via a pensive interregnum from about 2:10 to 2:27. We land in a place at once totally different than where we were and yet somehow logical. Through it all, Pollett’s vocals range from tender to penetrating and prove an expert guide on an unexpectedly dynamic mini-journey. If you sense a hint of Kate Bush in the air this is not a bad thing.

Josaleigh Pollett is a singer/songwriter based in Salt Lake City. “Radio Player,” released in October, was crafted together with producer and co-writer Jordan Watko, with whom Pollett has worked regularly over the course of her 15 years as an independent recording artist. Check out her work on Bandcamp.

“Your Colours” – Absolute Losers

Power pop homage

“Your Colours” – Absolute Losers

This Canadian trio, featuring two brothers and a close friend, have a sound that tap-dances knowingly through all three major power-pop eras, from the antecedent mid-’60s through the genre’s new wave rebirth in the late ’70s and further into the alt-rock iteration of the ’90s and early ’00s. The Beatles, the Jam, Fountains of Wayne–they’re all packed into the sound heard throughout In the Crowd, the band’s second album (the title itself a nod to Paul Weller’s old band).

“Your Colours,” however, harkens back most of all to the innocent sounds of 60-some years past, with its carefully articulated guitar lines, just-so melodies, well-etched harmonies, succinct bridge, and satisfying resolutions. The musical ache in the minor-to-major chorus is positively Beatlesque, and while we have traveled far into pastiche territory here, there’s something in the earnest construction and performance that wins me over. And then there’s the final quarter of the song, an extended coda, launched by a modulation at 2:34, which shifts the sound and feel forward in time while remaining true to the musical core.

Absolute Losers hail from Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island. You’ll find their albums and singles over there on Bandcamp.

“Colder” – Jo Davie

Quick and easy appeal

“Colder” – Jo Davie

There are hooks in songs (sometimes!) and then there are what I rather limply call “moments”: specific places in a song that perk the ear up and alert you to something subtly special going on in the songwriting, the arrangement, or the performance, or any combination thereof. I hear such a moment in Jo Davie’s “Colder.” The song quickly appeals via its concise, suspended-chord introduction and a fast-opening verse flavored by lyrics angled onto the three beat; but then we get the moment: when the melody cycles to its third iteration (0:21), at which point it starts a sixth higher than previously, Davie’s voice briefly hitting a new, crystalline register. It happens quickly; it isn’t a hook but it is a place that solidifies the song’s easy appeal.

Another part of the appeal lies in the songwriting sleight of hand on display. The blurted, somewhat breathless verse that opens the song is actually never heard from again; neither is the one-line pre-chorus (0:29), which serves as an agile passage into the chorus with its contrasting half-time melody. Note too the shifting chords underlying the slower melody: on the resonant lyrics “In your arms/It’s colder than/It ever was without you,” the shifts accelerate from “arms” to “than” to “was” and “without” and then, staying there, leaves the “you” both musically and symbolically unresolved. The extended instrumental section, beginning at 1:46, likewise features some engaging chord progressions, and sets up a lyrical twist: when the chorus returns, the line is now: “In your arms/Was colder than/I ever am without you.” The story has progressed in real time; the narrator has left the relationship. Good for her.

Jo Davie is a singer/songwriter based in Brisbane. “Colder” is a track from her debut EP, Nothing Comes Free, released back in May. (Yup I can be a bit slow on the uptake.) Check it out on Bandcamp.

This wasn’t supposed to happen

Eclectic Playlist Series 12.06 – Dec. 2025

It’s December and here’s a last playlist for what has been pretty much of a wreck of a year; I speak both personally and collectively. So there is no overt display of holiday cheer– you can grab that elsewhere if that’s your thing. And yet here’s the magic of music: even songs offering up protestations of various sorts end up somehow fueling an optimistic flame, however fragile and windblown. Some of that is due to the connectiveness of song, which inherently represents an effort by a human being, or a group of human beings, to reach out to other humans, consciousness to consciousness. Some of the subtle optimism comes simply from one person’s saying “I see it too”–whether it’s the dirty world or the hit of a new love. Songs can travel up or travel down and they still move us.

As usual the playlist is enlivened with synchronicities. There’s the unplanned adjacency of the Radiohead song containing the lyric “The sky turns green” with the Peter Green song “In the Skies.” There is the unpremeditated gathering of outtakes, perhaps an unconscious cri de coeur, a seeking of a better place to be than here. And there are the inadvertent appearances, cloaked and uncloaked, of two previous Republican presidents whose questionable moral compasses look benign compared to the sociopathic narcissism of the current office holder, adrift in his self-created sea of grift and cruelty. It’s a damnable ride but one day he’ll be drowning in his own wreckage and, with each of us using our own system of survival, we will arrive, blinking, in the light of a better day.

Here are the specifics:

1. “Private Number” – William Bell and Judy Clay (single, 1968)
2. “News” – Bruce Woolley & the Camera Club (English Garden outtake, 1979)
3. “Lose It Again” – Hatchie (Liquorice, 2025)
4. “Can’t Let Go” – Lucinda Williams (Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, 1998)
5. “Mykynos” – Fleet Foxes (Sun Giant, 2008)
6. “Dirty World” – Meshell Ndegeocello (Weather, 2011)
7. “Forgive Her Anything” – Elvis Costello & the Attractions (Blood & Chocolate outtake, 1986)
8. “Popafangout” – Sharp Pins (Balloon Balloon Balloon, 2025)
9. “Bring Down the Birds (Outtake)” – Herbie Hancock (Blow-Up Original Motion Picture Soundtrack, 1967)
10. “Salvation” – Scanners (Submarine, 2010)
11. “Where I End and You Begin” – Radiohead (Hail to the Thief, 2003)
12. “In the Skies” – Peter Green (In the Skies, 1979)
13. “Boy” – Book of Love (Book of Love, 1986)
14. “Lightnin’ Strikes” – Lou Christie (single, 1966)
15. “Hit” – The Sugarcubes (Stick Around For Joy, 1992)
16. “Loaded” – The Idle Hands (The Hearts We Broke on the Way to the Show, 2009)
17. “Just Blue” – Space (Just Blue, 1978)
18. “Severed” – The Decemberists (I’ll Be Your Girl, 2018)
19. “Wreck” – Neko Case (Neon Grey Midnight Green, 2025)
20. “System of Survival” – Earth, Wind & Fire (Touch the World, 1987)

Random notes:

* I only recently learned of the existence of a smattering of extra recordings made by Bruce Woolley and the Camera Club, a top-notch but short-lived new wave outfit, who had released one dynamite LP in 1979 and disbanded. The easy to love “News” appears to have been recorded at the same time, and the internet tells me that there was actually a second album at least partially recorded that was never released. I may need to spring for the 2024 box set to finally hear it.

* Speaking of something that’s somewhat difficult to locate, the Elvis Costello and the Attractions song “Forgive Her Anything” emerged on a 1990s Rhino Records expanded version of Blood & Chocolate but can’t be found on Spotify. For Elvis fans it’s a terrific find.

* And then for something easy to locate but difficult to understand, give “Popafangout” by Sharp Pins a spin or two. I’m staring at the lyrics and haven’t a clue what Kai Slater is singing about. But you know what? That doesn’t matter. The song connects via vibe and sound, and what a sound it is from a 21-year-old. I’m going to spend some time with this new album of theirs.

* “Lightnin’ Strikes” is an odd, memorable song, Lou Christie’s one claim to U.S. chart-topping fame. Once upon a time this was all we needed to know. But scratch the surface of any so-called “one-hit wonder” (thanks, internet!) and be introduced to innumerable complications and piles of forlorn facts. Let’s just say that Christie was a Pittsburgh area singer and songwriter with a longer-than-anticipated Wikipedia page that is, truth be told, more detailed than interesting. Without any more notable commercial successes to speak of, Christie nevertheless stayed active in the music industry into the 2020s; he died this past June.

* I have long felt that Radiohead’s Hail to the Thief never fully got its due. After the experimental electronics of Kid A, they were expected, somehow, both to continue avant-garde-ishly and yet also to go back to their guitar-based roots. And in sort of doing both many seemed to think they did neither. The album is dark and occasionally dour but there are many excellent songs to be had along the way, including this one.

* Herbie Hancock was just 26 when he recorded the music he composed for the now-classic Antonioni film Blow-Up. The music evokes the so-called “Swinging London” scene depicted in the movie, which came out in 1966. The album was released in 1967. That’s Phil Woods on the alto sax. This was Hancock’s first film score but not his last. He would go on to win an Oscar for his score to the 1986 movie Round Midnight.

“Nice to Know You” – Ash Molloy

Fully-formed confidence

“Nice to Know You” – Ash Molloy

“Nice to Know You” exhibits a fully-formed confidence that flows through all aspects of the song: the melodies, the arrangements (including the assertive bass line), the anthemic chorus, and maybe best of all, Ash Molloy’s assured and wide-ranging vocal presence.

One of the song’s subtle assets is its use of an instrumental counter-melody beneath the main melody. You can hear it first, if quietly, around 0:31, underneath the lyrics that begin with “And the way you say you’re sorry.” It’s that sing-song-y synthesizer line that leaps up and then back down; a clearer version recurs around 1:10 as Molloy repeats “Nice to know you.” Coming full circle, Molloy herself sings the counter-melody as a coda starting around 3:33. Let’s just say I appreciate the craft, especially as it is couched within something of a ’90s-early-’00s alt-rock vibe; or, think Sky Ferreira for you Sky Ferreira fans.

Ash Molloy is a singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist originally from Newfoundland; she’s been recording since 2023. “Nice To Know You” is her tenth single. You can hear them all on Spotify. Oh and she writes her melodies on her fiddle and has an undergraduate degree in behavioral neuroscience, so there’s that too. Keep an eye on this one.