You can never really tell

Eclectic Playlist Series 12.01 – January 2025

I fell a little behind in playlist production in 2024; here’s another one emerging a month or so later than intended. But, better late than really really late. And I guess it’s good that I hadn’t been making an overtly holiday-related mix. I did leave in a song associated with Christmas but in this version it feels more winter- than holiday-oriented, so still quite appropriate, if only for the title alone.

Otherwise, hello. Happy new year? We can always dream. Getting right into the music, this month’s mix features 10 artists who have not previously found their way onto an Eclectic Playlist Series playlist, even as we are now in year 12. I do strive to keep the newcomers coming in, while always enjoying the opportunity to mix them in with favorites old and not too old. And it is January, which, according to house rules, means that the library resets, rendering any previously featured artist now available. (The house rule, for the uninitiated, is that no artist may be featured in an EPS mix more than once in a given calendar year. The slate is wiped clean each January and we start again.) Three particular, all-time favorites are making an early appearance; newsletter recipients will know exactly who they are. (Have I ever mentioned that the newsletter version of this comes with bonus notes? Now you know!)

And here’s what you’re in for here in this particularly bleak midwinter:

1. “Earn Enough For Us” – XTC (Skylarking, 1986)
2. “Girl Don’t Make Me Wait” – Bunny Sigler (Let the Good Times Roll & (Feel So Good), 1967)
3. “But Not Kiss” – Faye Webster (Undressed at the Symphony, 2023)
4. “The Outsiders” – R.E.M. (Around the Sun, 2004)
5. “Sweet Little Truth” – Tasmin Archer (Bloom, 1996)
6. “Love is a Stranger” – Eurythmics (Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This), 1982)
7. “You Probably Get That a Lot” – They Might Be Giants (Join Us, 2011)
8. “Now is the Time” – Norma Tanega (I Don’t Think It Will Hurt If You Smile, 1971)
9. “On The Wrong Side” – Lindsey Buckingham (Lindsey Buckingham, 2021)
10. “Appalachia Waltz” – Yo-Yo Ma, Edgar Meyer, Mark O’Connor (Appalachia Waltz, 1996)
11. “Somebody Hurt You” – A Girl Called Eddy (A Girl Called Eddy, 2004)
12. “Stay” – David Bowie (Station to Station, 1976)
13. “I Belong In Your Arms” – Chairlift (Something, 2012)
14. “I See the Rain” – Marmalade (There’s a Lot of it About, 1968)
15. “Dragonfly” – Samantha Crain (single, 2024)
16. “Days” – Television (Adventure, 1978)
17. “Above the Treeline” – Jane Siberry (Jane Siberry, 1980)
18. “Buildings & Mountains” – The Republic Tigers (Keep Color, 2008)
19. “In the Bleak Midwinter” – Polly Scattergood and Maps (single, 2014)
20. “Better Git In Your Soul” – Davy Graham (Folk, Blues & Beyond, 1965)

Random notes:

* “In the Bleak Midwinter” is a Christmas song, but stripped here of its religious content, the song functions more broadly as a statement of seasonal resolve– we hear ongoingly of the “bleak midwinter,” the electronics provide a blizzardy whoosh, and singer Polly Scattergood, nearly but not entirely overshadowed, holds her ground. Scattergood here works with James Chapman, who does musical business as Maps; the two British musicians also had a one-off go-round as a duo, known as On Dead Waves, releasing one album in 2016. Both have been individually featured on Fingertips, Scattergood in 2013, Chapman even further back, in 2007. Scattergood’s most recent record is 2020’s In This Moment, while Maps released Counter Melodies in 2022.

* It’s possible that “Stay” is my favorite David Bowie song.

* “Appalachia Waltz” is calm and quiet and clearly unlike songs typically featured here. I invite you to slow yourself down to adapt to its pace and vibe. If you do, you may find that the composition works some kind of magic on your state of being, the deliberate, cycling and recycling melodies melting any resistance you might have to this kind of thing– whatever “this kind of thing” actually is. Once you meet the piece where it is you may find that, at 5:47, rather than seeming too long, it ends up seeming not long enough.

* Smoky-voiced singer/songwriter Erin Moran has been recording as A Girl Called Eddy since 2004. The records have been sporadic to say the least: there have been only three full-length albums to date, most recently 2020’s Been Around. An air of bygone songwriting styles and arrangements floats through Moran’s work; her professed love of the great Burt Bacharach audibly informs what she writes and sings. “Somebody Hurt You” comes from her debut self-titled album, released in 2004. Hat tip to George at Between Two Islands for the recommendation.

* As both a singer and guitarist, Lindsey Buckingham has an iconic sound, which was on full display on his most recent album, recorded in 2018 but due to the ongoing drama that forever is and was Buckingham and/or Fleetwood Mac, not released until 2021. The self-titled album got strong reviews but didn’t seem to muster a lot of attention. But, expertly crafted, catchy as hell, and intermittently odd, it’s just about everything a late-’70s/early-’80s Fleetwood Mac fan would want from a solo record of his. The artist’s conflict-filled history aside, this album is well worth a listen.

* Before she became a left-of-center indie pop diva, Caroline Polachek was co-founder of the band Chairlift. Chairlift began as a duo in Boulder, Colorado before moving to Brooklyn, expanding to a trio, and then shrinking back to a duo with the new guy replacing the first guy. (First guy had been Polachek’s boyfriend, then not.) “I Belong In Your Arms” comes from the band’s second album, Something, released in 2012. They would release one more album–Moth, in 2016– before going their separate ways. Polachek’s solo work has twice previously been featured in an EPS mix, in February 2022 and May 2023.

* Davy Graham was a pioneering figure in the history of British folk music. Known for his fingerpicking (also known as fingerstyle) guitar work, Graham introduced sounds from outside the UK (including the Middle East and India) into his arrangements and compositions. He is sometimes credited with inventing the folk guitar instrumental; his song “Anji” (sometimes spelled “Angi”) became something of a model and inspiration for a new generation of guitarists, including Bert Jansch and John Renbourn. You may in fact be familiar with it via Simon & Garfunkel, who put the song on their Sounds of Silence album. “Better Git In Your Soul” is Graham’s arrangement of a Charles Mingus song; it closes his 1965 album Folks, Blues & Beyond.

Kufsat Shimurim – Afor Gashum

Urgent, atmospheric, post-punk-ish

“Kufsat Shimurim” – Afor Gashum

At once urgent and atmospheric, “Kufsat Shimurim” churns post-punk-ishly, augmented by the canny use of random sounds and sound effects. The song takes its time to unfold, as the instrumental palette–guitars, bass, drum, noise–marks out a series of chords presented in a clipped, persistent rhythm. When they start (0:43), lead singer Michal Sapir’s pure, high-ranging vocals, in Hebrew, offer an effective counterbalance to the murk and clangor in the background. At the song’s midway climax, the instrumental break transitions from the legible to the abstract, as various electronic tones interject atonally but compellingly. Even without understanding a word of what’s being said I get a very 2024-ish sense of light struggling for footing in the darkness.

Based in Tel Aviv, Afor Gashum is a trio that self-identifies as a “long-standing and prominent member of Israel’s underground dissident music scene.” After a well-regarded debut cassette in 1989, the band, going their separate ways, did not record another album until 2013, but have been intermittently releasing albums ever since. “Kufsat Shimurim” is a track from their fifth album, Temperature, released last month. According to the band, the song grew out of Sapir’s participation in something called the Noise Agency, which was an artist residency program in Tel Aviv dedicated, broadly, to the art of sound. Sapir was specifically involved in a project that involved sending people out to make “various sound interventions” in public urban spaces. The song itself, says the band, “examines the possibility of a group of sonic agitators to introduce a different voice, foreign and subversive.”

And because I cannot directly understand the song’s lyrics, I will leave you as well with what strikes me as a powerful mission statement for Temperature, via the album’s Bandcamp page:

At a time when the struggle for justice and equality for all feels more urgent than ever, Temperature sets out to explore unstable harmonic territories, possible science-fictional worlds and transformative emotions, in a bid to imagine a different future – more interconnected, responsible, equal and just.

“Two Feet Tall” – Ciao Malz

Bright and slightly woozy

“Two Feet Tall” – Ciao Malz

“Two Feet Tall” is brisk and bright and slightly woozy; between the pleasant warble of the guitars and the off-center time signature shifts, the music here effectively mirrors the uncertain state of mind the song appears to be concerned with. Malz has a feathery voice that sounds natural and matter-of-fact, one of those singing voices that, while definitely singing, sounds like talking. (This is a compliment.) The music hustles along in the verse then gets a little whiplashy with that half-time chorus. The lyrics address a certain sort of failure to communicate, epitomized by the recurring line “But I can never tell, quite tell you stuff.” As this line, repeating later, shortens to “I can never tell,” the connotation is smartly complicated. The overall vibe is friendly and cozy and slightly befuddled. This is also a compliment.

Keep an ear on the dizzy guitars all the way through, but note in particular the short warped solo that happens between 1:08 and 1:19. That’s my kind of detail. Another: the abrupt ending, after a final “I can never tell, quite tell you stuff,” which is one last way that form and content echo one another here.

Ciao Malz is the stage name adopted by the Brooklyn-based singer/songwriter Malia DelaCruz. “Two Feet Tall” is a track from her cleverly named EP Safe Then Sorry, released earlier this month on the Audio Antihero label. She had previously self-released an EP called To Go in 2020. Check the new one out over on Bandcamp.

photo credit: Alex SK Brown

What are we coming to?

Eclectic Playlist Series 11.08

Honest, I started this playlist last month, intending to upload it in October. But plans changed, and now the post-Election-Day timing renders the opening song all the more haunting. The tracks that follow may or may not relate; you decide.

And I will otherwise spare the hand-wringing; there’s enough of that going around, and I for one aim to keep the deranged manbaby from invading my headspace over the coming weeks, months, (sigh) years. I will just note this: the election of a convicted felon, cheater, and predator who had previously attempted to overthrow an election indicates that there is something terribly wrong with our basic, collective ability to inform, organize, and govern ourselves. And that something has everything to do with unregulated capitalism and its various discontents, most specifically the widespread inclination to prefer revenue to virtue. Things fall apart precisely from there.

Anyway, the music:

1. “When the Devil’s Loose” – A.A. Bondy (When the Devil’s Loose, 2009)
2. “Pinned” – Unknown Venus (single, 2024)
3. “That’s the Way” – Led Zeppelin (Led Zeppelin III, 1970)
4. “You Gotta Be” – Des’ree (I Ain’t Movin’, 1995)
5. “Cry Baby” – The Motels (Careful, 1980)
6. “Lorlir” – Kaki King (Modern Yesterdays, 2020)
7. “Play With Fire” – The Rolling Stones (b-side, 1965)
8. “Salt Eyes” – Middle Kids (New Songs For Old Problems EP, 2019)
9. “Black Star” – Gillian Welch (single, 2005)
10. “The Card Cheat” – The Clash (London Calling, 1979)
11. “Australia” – Manic Street Preachers (Everything Must Go, 1996)
12. “The Witch” – Kaia Kater, featuring Aiofe O’Donovan (Strange Medicine, 2024)
13. “Helplessness Blues” – Fleet Foxes (Helplessness Blues, 2011)
14. “Bring Back the Love” – The Monitors (Greetings!…We’re the Monitors, 1968)
15. “Half Asleep” – School of Seven Bells (Alpinisms, 2008)
16. “Cornerstone” – Richard X. Heyman (Cornerstone, 1998)
17. “In Between Days” – The Cure (The Head on the Door, 1985)
18. “Afraid of Everyone” – The National (High Violet, 2010)
19. “Swampland” – Alex Winston (Bingo!, 2024)
20. “I’m Going to Tear Your Playhouse Down” – Ann Peebles (single, 1973; I Can’t Stand the Rain, 1974)

Random notes:

* This is very likely the least classic-rock-y playlist on the internet that nevertheless manages to include songs from both Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones.

* Gillian Welch’s incandescent cover of Radiohead’s “Black Star” is a classic, presenting the song in a totally different setting while retaining and enhancing its poignant essence. I’ve poked around a bit and still can’t determine how she came to record this and why it exists as a standalone single but she did and it does and it moves me every time I hear it. I don’t think I’ve previously featured a live recording on an EPS mix but this only exists in a live version and it’s pretty much perfect as is.

* I am not inherently a fan of instrumental tracks but I can’t help being ongoingly fascinated by what the experimentally-minded guitar virtuoso Kaki King has released over the course of her iconoclastic career. Her 2020 album Modern Yesterdays was recorded just as COVID-19 was identified and lockdowns beginning; everyone who worked on the album came down with it (and recovered, thankfully). The album itself arose as a side effect of a planned live project called Data Not Found, which got scrapped due to the lockdown. While Modern Yesterdays finds King finger-picking in the Fahey/Kottke lineage, the album also expands into evocative electronic soundscapes, incorporating alternative guitar sounds and spacious synthesizer beds created by sound designer Chloe Alexandra Thompson. “Lorlir” offers King’s brisk finger work on top of electronics so gentle that they seem, somehow, part of the guitar itself. While the song’s title is a mystery–I can find nothing that explains it–other titles on the album bring the listener straight back to that disastrous time (e.g., “Can’t Touch This or That or You or My Face,” “Sanitized, Alone”)–a time which, I might add, seems to have been forgotten by the misled half of the US population who voted to bring back the cruel and inept leader who tragically bungled the country’s response (and pretty much everything else). In this context an instrumental seems about right, as words become inadequate.

* There exists an all but endless trove of R&B tracks from the 1960s that were not hits but one wonders why the heck not. “Bring Back the Love” has the melodic drama, confident vocals, and sure groove of a classic Four Tops tune–perhaps not a complete coincidence, as one of the four songwriters credited here is Brian Holland, the music-oriented Holland of the famed songwriting trio of Holland-Dozier-Holland (his brother Eddie did the lyrics). Those three were responsible for some of the finest songs recorded by the Four Tops–not to mention the Supremes, and Marvin Gaye, and a number of other first-tier Motown acts. This one sounds like a winner, even if it wasn’t.

* Not a lot of information is available online about the singer/songwriter calling herself Unknown Venus, which is probably (given the moniker) how she wants it in this day and age of intrusive, overzealous fandom. (Perhaps there’s a new generation of musicians arising who intend to forge a road back to some semblance of reasonable privacy.) In any case, what she has revealed online: her name is Annie Lancaster, she is based in Los Angeles, plays the harp, and has released five singles to date, most recently “Pinned.” The song is at once dreamy and straightforward, complete with an actual instrumental hook by way of the distorted guitar line that we first hear in the introduction. Who does this anymore? Not enough people, that’s who. Not enough people make this sort of well-constructed, effortlessly melodic music either, but they’re out there and I always aim to find them. Hat tip to the Luna Collective’s weekly, off-the-beaten-path playlist for this one.

* There are a half-dozen or more well-known, widely-regarded songs from the Clash’s seminal London Calling, and then there’s “The Card Cheat.” A loping, keyboard-driven song, launching off a decisive Hal Blaine drumbeat, “The Card Cheat” is pleasingly enigmatic in a Dylanesque sort of way–vague characters speak, specific locations are cited, you sense something important is going on but you can’t put your finger on it. A little burst of horn adds to the mystique along the way, and Joe Strummer’s urgent/friendly voice holds it all together. Perhaps part of my attraction to the song has to do with the fact that it isn’t as well-known as the album’s other highlights, but for one reason or another it remains a big favorite after all these years.

* Richard X. Heyman made an appearance here last year when I pulled the Doughboys’ oddly endearing “Rhoda Mandelbaum” out of obscurity for EPS 10.8. Heyman, the band’s drummer, was a teenager during the Doughboys’ late-’60s, garage rock heyday, but re-emerged as a power pop-oriented singer/songwriter in the late ’80s. He got as far as signing a deal with the prestigious Sire Records label, which released one album of his then dropped him for lack of sales. He had to finance Cornerstone himself, and played most of the instruments on most of the tracks. Since then he’s been releasing albums regularly on his own label, most recently 2022’s 67,000 Miles an Album. The man has a preternatural knack for melodic rock’n’roll, an appealing baritone, and, unhappily, little to no commercial appeal. But maybe he’s okay with that, doing his own thing for his own audience in his own corner of internet. (Some of us are.) Note too that the Doughboys have had a second wind in the 21st century, reviving their garage rock sound–fine if you like that kind of thing but I’ll stick with Heyman’s solo albums, which I aim to investigate further in the days to come.

“Candles” – Sunset Rubdown

Intricate and engaging

“Candles” – Sunset Rubdown

A dash of compositional complexity in an otherwise catchy song is my kind of good time. The Montreal band Sunset Rubdown, fronted by Wolf Parade’s Spencer Krug, emerges from a long hiatus to offer this syncopated bit of what sounds like prog pop, which is apparently a (minor) thing. It’s intricate, engaging, and does its business in just over three minutes. Prog pop!

The first thing to notice is the stop-start-y keyboard lines, which both introduce and underpin the song. A heavy bass tone adds deep ground while the flowing, descending melody of the verse, working on top of and against the ascending keyboard figures, gives the song its signature feeling of compelling intricacy. Another feature that pits one characteristic against an oppositional counterpart are the backing vocals provided by keyboardist Camilla Wynne, which add warmth to Krug’s edgier tone. Just as you’re getting the hang of it, and perhaps noticing that there’s no guitar involved, the edifice pretty much breaks down halfway through (1:29) via a short, muddy bridge that makes a veiled reference to the pandemic. Order returns when the keyboard lines re-establish themselves (2:02) and accompany us to the end, with a cheeky few plinks on the piano seeing us out.

Spencer Krug first made his mark on the indie rock scene at the head of the band Wolf Parade, which launched back in 2003, and has been active as recently as 2022. He debuted Sunset Rubdown in 2005, initially as a solo project but soon enough as a band, only to put it to bed by 2009, despite critical acclaim for the three full-band albums. “Candles” was originally recorded in 2020 as a solo effort by Krug, but when the band found themselves reunited–minus a guitarist–they decided to give the song another go and this is what happened. “Candles” is the third track of nine on the band’s new album, Always Happy to Explode, which was released last month. You can listen to it, and buy it, on Bandcamp.

“Condensation” – Sports Team

Sloppy-tight vibe

“Condensation” – Sports Team

So here we’re back to a standard backbeat (see previous review for context)–although maybe not quite. The emphasis is on the two and the four, the very definition of a backbeat, but at the same time the beat also manages, somehow, to swing. I think this has to do with the way lead vocalist Alex Rice toys with the melody, regularly hitting his marks ever so slightly ahead of the actual beat. (Don’t try this at home; it’s harder to do than it seems.) Consider it part of the song’s sloppy-tight vibe–just like the lyrics themselves, in the verse, which spill out in something of a stream and yet, if you pay attention, scan perfectly with the energetic melody.

Somewhat unusually, Sports Team is a six-person band, and everyone is surely doing something here, in service of the crowd-friendly ambiance, although it’s difficult to know who’s doing what when. There are melodic leaps, horn charts, gang-style backing vocals, keyboard glissandos, you name it. (There’s even a reference to “fingertips,” which I can’t help hearing.) Enough is happening such that we only get the verse melody twice, as the song’s busy construction provides us with what sounds like not only a pre-chorus and a chorus but, potentially, either a two-part post-chorus (is that even a thing?) or a post-chorus and a bridge. We can leave the structural analysis to more exacting minds than mine; I’ll take the welcoming beat and agile melodicism and be quite happy.

Based in London, Sports Team was founded in 2016, when five of the six bandmates were studying at Cambridge University. “Condensation” is a track from their forthcoming third album, Boys These Days, slated to arrive in February.

“Broken Ceilings” – Morgan Swihart

Simmering with intention

“Broken Ceilings” – Morgan Swihart

Smoky and deliberate, “Broken Ceilings” simmers with intention, unfolding on top of a wide-ranging if elusive instrumental palette. The drums are front and center, the electric guitar occasionally steps forward, a piano vamps a bit and disappears; strings, too–or synthesized strings?–provide texture and drama; an athletic bass line lends subtle movement. Are there horns, actual or digital, in here too? No matter. It turns out to be far less about individual lines and more about how the amalgam produces a swelling, wall-of-sound feeling, of a sort you might get from putting a rock band into a blender with a small orchestra. (Don’t try that at home either.)

The song launches, minus introduction, straight into the verse’s melody, with its languorous ascent, Swihart’s resonant voice extending her notes out there on the borderline between shy and coy. You can sense from the start that the song is aiming in the direction of Big, and cumulatively, we get there, even as Swihart seems surely to be holding something back, in a good way. I’m an ongoing fan of restraint, and, counterintuitively, that’s what is ultimately on display here, despite the buildup, the eventual volume, the unbridled bashing of drums. You can hear it in the way the melody ongoingly steps down to resolve, in the spaces Swihart leaves from line to line, and, a closing touch, at the very end, in the way she modestly slides away.

Morgan Swihart is a singer/songwriter based in Brooklyn. “Broken Ceilings” is a song from her short, appealing album of the same name, released in June. You can check it out on Spotify. A previous album, The Grave, was released last year.

It was so clear to me

Eclectic Playlist Series 11.07 – September 2024

Summer may be over, but tell me if there isn’t a dark-ish, summer’s-over feeling coursing through the Santo & Johnny version of the Gershwin classic “Summertime.” The famed sibling instrumental duo, from Brooklyn, turned a song that typically evokes languid sunshine into something introspective, spooky, intermittently discordant, and, somehow, maybe, autumnal. In any case, I didn’t manage to get a playlist up in August so here it is one way or another.

There are two other evocative covers in among the mix this month, and one fake cover: the Concretes’ “You Can’t Hurry Love” is not the Motown nugget but its own incisive thing. The real covers are discussed below, along with many other things, so I’ll keep the intro short this time. For those who don’t like surprises, here’s what’s on tap in 11.07:

1. “Becoming All Alone” – Regina Spektor (Home, Before and After, 2022)
2. “Revolutionary Kind” – Gomez (Liquid Skin, 1999)
3. “The Riddle” – Nik Kershaw (The Riddle, 1984)
4. “Cathedrals” – Cry Cry Cry (single, 2018)
5. “La Bambola” – Patty Pravo (Patty Pravo, 1968)
6. “Big Tears” – Elvis Costello & the Attractions (b-side, 1978)
7. “You Can’t Hurry Love” – The Concretes (The Concretes, 2003)
8. “Coast” – Kim Deal (single, 2024; Nobody Loves You More coming 11/24)
9. “Every Shining Time You Arrive” – Sunny Day Real Estate (How It Feels To Be Something On, 1998)
10. “Everybody Plays the Fool” – The Main Ingredient (Bitter Sweet, 1972)
11. “Any Way You Want It” – Clem Snide (Clem Snide’s Journey EP, 2011)
12. “Annie” – Kirsty MacColl (Real, 1983; released 2023)
13. “Get Yourself Together” – Small Faces (Small Faces, 1967)
14. “Not a Job” – Elbow (Cast of Thousands, 2003)
15. “What Now” – Brittany Howard (What Now, 2024)
16. “Life is Sweet” – Natalie Merchant (Ophelia, 1998)
17. “Amor Fati” – Washed Out (Within and Without, 2011)
18. “You Never Come Closer” – Doris (Did You Give the World Some Love Today Baby, 1970)
19. “Summertime” – Santo & Johnny (Santo & Johnny, 1960)
20. “Middle Cyclone” – Neko Case (Middle Cyclone, 2009)

Random notes:

* Clem Snide front man Eef Barzeley has proven over the years to be a master of rock’n’roll covers. Nowhere was the skill in more evidence than in his specially-released 2011 EP, Clem Snide’s Journey. A tour de force of transformational interpretation, the all-Journey EP was inspired by his version of the song “Faithfully,” covered as part of the intermittently wonderful AV Club Undercover series. I featured this song at the time, and stand by my characterization of the man as some sort of mad genius. These days the EP is available to his Bandcamp subscribers only, with no playback options. However, three of the six songs are available to listen to on Spotify, including “Any Way You Want It.”

* The Swedish pop singer Doris Svensson was a curious case. Billed by her first name only, she released one solo album in 1970 and pretty much retreated from performing after that. The album initially was a commercial flop, but a re-release in 1996 captured the attention of hipsters, and hip-hop artists, and brought the album back into the cultural flow. The album is an idiosyncratic mix of pop, soul, funk, psychedelia, and jazz, with a Dusty Springfield-esque vibe–well worth a listen if you’re into that kind of thing. It’s not only available on the streaming services, the whole thing can be downloaded for free via the Internet Archive. Svensson died last year at the age of 75. Thanks to the blog James Writes Stuff for the head’s up on this one, which I otherwise hadn’t heard of. And yes it’s very ’00s of me, offering a hat tip to another blog, but James like me has a very ’00s thing going over there, with his observant, personal, well-written album reviews; his blog is a relatively rare example of an algorithm- and commercial-free web site just doing its thing here in the corrupted, over-stimulated world of internet 2024.

* The brilliant Kirsty MacColl was taken from us, tragically, some 24 years ago. But it was only last year that we saw the long-awaited release of an album she had recorded in 1983 that was shelved by Polydor, her then record company; they felt it wasn’t commercial enough. It would have been her second album. She and Polydor parted ways after that. She had a UK hit single in 1985, with a dazzling version of Billy Bragg’s “A New England,” recorded for Stiff Records, but soon it got complicated: Stiff went bankrupt, there were contractual complications and personal complications, leading to a lot of session work–including her indelible star turn on 1987’s “Fairytale of New York”–but no record deal. The song “Annie,” from Real, was one of three songs from the ill-fated LP that Polydor saw fit, in 1985, to tack onto a re-released version of her debut album. A handful of other songs from Real surfaced years later on a posthumous 2005 compilation album. I’m not sure what took quite so long for Real to emerge as its own thing, but I’m glad we finally have it–it’s not a classic but a treasure for Kirsty fans nonetheless. The album is available on its own digitally; for the devoted fan, all the album’s tracks are on CD as part of the lavish, eight-disc, 161-song box set called See That Girl 1979-2000, released by Universal Music in a limited edition last year. But good luck finding it: I don’t see any for sale in any of the usual places at this point.

* “Cathedrals” was something of a radio hit for the North Carolina band Jump, Little Children back in 1998. The dormant singer/songwriter trio Cry Cry Cry ended a long hiatus in 2018 with a cover of the song, and they did three helpful things in the process. First, they removed the strings, which had added a bit too much saccharin to a song teetering already on the edge of schmaltz (if I may mix my food metaphors). Second, Dar Williams sings lead, transforming the somewhat overwrought original into something more pensive and substantial. Lastly, the stellar harmonies provided by band mates Lucy Kaplansky and Richard Shindell lend warmth and depth that the original’s vocal performance lacked. Oh and as a bonus, the Cry Cry Cry version is 20 seconds shorter, almost always a good thing.

* I’ve put Elvis Costello songs on a playlist more or less once a year here, but I’ve been leaning in the direction of his 21st-century output. I’ve done that consciously, because I feel his later-career stuff is relatively overlooked–wide-ranging musically, his 21st-century albums are maybe harder to pin down than the “angry young man” material of the late ’70s and early ’80s, and so over the years they’ve kind of piled up into a corner that his loyal fans have pretty much to themselves. So I like to give the newer songs some sunlight here. That said, I haven’t meant to entirely ignore his seminal work from back in the day. But as ever I tend to avoid the obvious. You don’t need me to give you the likes of “Pump It Up” or “Watching Detectives,” but maybe slipping a muscular B-side like “Big Tears” into the mix is a fine idea every so often. The man is surely one of the great songwriters of our time; I wish this were more universally recognized, but it remains one of those “if you know, you know” things.

* “Coast” is such an effortlessly confident song: quirky, inscrutable, and mysteriously catchy, with smile-inducing horn charts and the lackadaisical charm of a one-off jam session. Kim Deal, as you likely know, was an original member of the Pixies and the front woman for the Breeders. While she has released a few solo singles, “Coast” is a song that will be on her debut solo album, called Nobody Loves You More, which is due out in November.

* Patty Pravo is the stage name adopted long ago by the Italian singer Nicoletta Strambelli. Pravo, now 76, was in her heyday in the late ’60s through the late ’70s. One of her signature songs, “La Bambola” was number one on the charts in Italy for nine straight weeks. To my ears, it retains its energetic appeal these many decades later. Pravo has had a long and idiosyncratic career, not to mention personal life, including a stretch where she lived in the United States and recorded a new wave adjacent LP in the early ’80s. Her most recent album, Red, came out in 2019.

* The mighty Neko Case closes us out. I guess I like quirky and inscrutable songs; this one’s power comes from its restraint, its poignant turns of phrase, and Ms. Case’s ever potent voice. Her most recent album of new material remains 2018’s vibrant Hell-On. She’s got a memoir coming out in January, entitled The Harder I Fight the More I Love You, and, apparently, a new album on the way shortly thereafter.

“Rob Me Blind” – Sweet Unrest

Cheeky, catchy neo-Britpop

“Rob Me Blind” – Sweet Unrest

“Rob Me Blind” is a brisk, charming bit of neo-Britpop, with ukulele. Owing something to the Strokes and/or early Cure, the London-based Sweet Unrest smash a lot of melody and guitar into three minutes, including a closing section that all but flies off the rails before getting tidily swept back up into the song’s stalwart instrumental hook and sweet “ooh-oohs,” and leaving me with a smile on my face, even as I’m not at all sure what all they’re singing about or why I’m smiling.

The same sweet “ooh-oohs” are in fact the first thing we hear, and the aforementioned ukulele. Normal enough instrumentation–guitar, bass, drums–then lead us into the song’s head-bopping rhythm and clipped, sing-song-y melody, delivered by a very British Jack River. But something feels a little off kilter here, in a good way. I like the ear-catching “hiccups” in the melody (e.g. 0:49-0:59); the dreamy background vocals heard shortly thereafter are at once lovely and kind of wacky. And what these vocals are accompanying is the song’s most incisive element: the ringing lead guitar line (first heard at 1:02). Hearing it prompted the realization that this sort of guitar line, which functions as a full-fledged hook, has all but disappeared as the 21st century has aged; it’s concise, melodic, up front, and emerges unexpectedly but organically in the song’s middle section. As for River’s semi-unhinged vocals in the song’s final third, they align with the band’s embrace of a certain amount of commotion, and for me the payoff is the falsetto note Rivers hits in the middle of the carrying-on (2:18), a pitch-perfect melodic enhancement at a surprising moment.

Self-proclaimed fans of classic poetry, Sweet Unrest derived its name from the Keats poem “Bright Star.” Following their self-titled debut EP in 2023, the band has released four singles in 2024, of which “Rob Me Blind” is the most recent.

“Tamarindo Sunsets” – Sam Weber

Tender, melancholy solace

“Tamarindo Sunsets” – Sam Weber

With its feathery piano playing, gently emotive vocals, and lovely melodies, “Tamarindo Sunsets” feels like slow, melancholy solace in a moment overwhelmed here in the U.S. by rapid-fire digital idiocy. The lyrics are precise but evade direct comprehension. The singer sings from a place of hurt; the titular phrase are the first words we hear but they don’t recur. Tamarindo is a beach town in Costa Rica, and (maybe?) stands in for something more enticing in the imagination than it turns out to be. In addition to the soft, evocative piano, I’d draw your attention to the muted bass notes, so velvety they all but melt into the song’s tender ambiance.

The repeated lyric that sticks most obviously out is the singer’s claim to be “going offline ’til the end of time,” which I’ll admit sounds more and more like a lovely idea. I can’t be sure of singer/songwriter Sam Weber’s intent here but it feels like an example of failed will in the face of life’s disappointments. Who after all can go offline ’til the end of time? Especially as the song’s narrator still wants to know what’s going on (“When there’s something new/Can you text it to me?”)

“Tamarindo Sunsets” is the lead track on Clear + Plain, Weber’s fourth album, released last month. He also has an EP and a couple of singles. You can check everything out on Bandcamp.