“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.

“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.

“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.

“Goddamn Fool” – Ruby Gilbert

Americana via Australia

“Goddamn Fool” – Ruby Gilbert

The Brisbane-based singer/songwriter Ruby Gilbert has a gift for evoking lonely Western landscapes, as noted when she previously appeared here in 2021. She’s at it again, marvelously, in “Goddamn Fool.” Brisker than “No Vacancy,” the song still aches with her distinctive variety of Americana. There’s banjo, a foot-tapping backbeat, evocative guitar flourishes, and, at center, Gilbert’s fetching, throaty vocals, laced with just the right amount of reverb. And don’t miss that signature trumpet, haunting the rear of the mix until the very end.

So help me out here. I’m mystified why musicians with so much obvious authority and quality as Ruby Gilbert exist at the fringes of our musical culture while copycat pop stars with nothing at all interesting to say garner gobs of attention, not to mention sycophantic praise from so-called critics. Have we become that shallow? And this isn’t me, from a bygone generation, claiming everything was better back in the day; it’s me finding wonderful music from the here and now and wondering what happened to our collective ability to recognize and reward actual excellence. End of quiet rant.

Support Ruby Gilbert by checking her out on Bandcamp, and (gasp) buying something you like. What this talented Australian lacks in quantity–she released a four-song EP in 2018 and but four singles since–she more than compensates for in quality. “Goddamn Fool” came out in September, her first release since 2021.

“Once It Starts to Kick In” – Hand Gestures

Deft ambling

“Once It Starts to Kick In” – Hand Gestures

With its friendly vibe and strummy groove, “Once It Starts to Kick In” develops over an agreeable mix of crunchy, bell-like guitars and a perky synth line. The song so deftly ambles along that I was surprised when I noted the length (4:44); it feels shorter than that, never hurrying yet never wearing out its welcome.

Front man and songwriter Brian Russ has an appealing, everyman voice that manages to convey innocence and experience simultaneously–which is kind of what the music itself does here, with the juxtaposition of the substantive guitar work and that playful synth line. Speaking of, I like in particular how the synthesizer, after dutifully playing its instrumental hook a couple of times, breaks out at 3:42 for an extended, off-script solo.

By the time Russ was writing the songs for this album, in 2022, he had had 20 years of experience on the Brooklyn music scene, which you may or may not recall was quite the engaged and engaging environment back there in the ’00s. He was in his early 20s then, putting him now in his 40s and eager to write songs reflective of his current life stage. Although Russ originally wrote these songs for Unisex, a previous band of his, by 2024 that band had more or less dissolved; he ended up recording the songs by himself with the help of the Unisex drummer. Then, this year, he assembled a new group of musicians and as such decided to change the group’s name. The album had been titled Hand Gestures; this became the band’s name too. Russ by the way is also the founder of the indie label Campers’ Rule Records, which released Hand Gestures on Halloween. You can listen to the album, and buy it, via Bandcamp.

“Twos” – The Noisy

Purposeful mix of light and dark

“Twos” – The Noisy

With a retro lilt and a buzzy undertone, “Twos” both charms and unnerves. On the one hand we have front person Sara Mae Henke and their lovely silver tone, propelling the song effortlessly forward; on the other hand they sing an elusive tale of dating two people at once that seems purposefuly to mix light (chimes!) and dark (crunch!). If you sense something vaguely disquieting in the ambiance, that hunch is reinforced by a video that layers a campy, vintage vampire scenario onto the proceedings, complete with pitch-dark black-and-white blood.

Musically, I sense a hint of Neko Case in the air here, which can only be a good thing; both Henke’s resonant voice and the song’s carefully chosen words have a Neko-ish panache, as does the sturdy melodicism and chord progressions on display. And as with many a Neko song, “Twos” all but compels, and rewards, multiple listens.

The Noisy has been a rotating cast of characters fronted by Henke, a Philadelphia-based singer, songwriter, and poet. “Twos” is a track from The Noisy’s 2024 album The Secret Ingredient is More Meat, which is being re-released with extra material in October by Audio Antihero Records (now to be entitled The Secret Ingredient is Even More Meat).

photo credit: Morgan Kelley