Fingertips

Look how I remember (Eclectic Playlist Series 6.04 – April 2019)

Maybe it’s somewhat obvious to those who’ve been around here a long time, but I will say this out loud: when all is said and done, the Kinks are my favorite band of all time. Which maybe makes it a little strange that for this year’s presentation of a Kinks song in a playlist–and remember, no artist appears in a mix here more than once in a calendar year–I have selected a little ditty of a song of theirs that I have never really thought much of one way or another. They after all have so many many great songs, and over the decades found such deft ways to communicate via rock’n’roll. So, why did I choose “Monica,” among a multitude of others that I probably like more? I am not actually sure, except to note that these playlists are constructed as intuitively as possible. I can’t usually explain why I put any of these songs in here. But maybe, with the Kinks, an extra factor was this: because I can’t play all of my favorite-favorite Kinks songs in the context of these mixes, it’s easier to go for a left-field choice like “Monica”; in this case, all the favorite-favorite songs are treated equally–i.e., overlooked (for now). Another potential explanation: there’s no way to understand any musical preference, for anybody, when you get right down to it. This song just highlights the serendipitous beauty of what catches the ear and makes the world feel right, if for a moment or two.

Other random notes on this month’s playlist:

* I’m still happily absorbing Mitski’s well-regarded 2018 album, Be The Cowboy, and while I particularly like the single, “Nobody,” the song I ended up with here, “Why Didn’t You Stop Me?,” grabbed me after a few listens, with its insistent pulse, crunchy guitars, looney-bin synth motif, and remarkable conciseness. The whole album is a study in how to be succinct; only two songs out of 14 are longer than 2:36, and nothing is even four minutes long.

* Marvin Gaye would have been 80 earlier this month; instead, he died tragically, murdered by his own father, the day before he would have turned 35. This song is one of the many great unreleased songs of his that have floated around over the years. This year, at long last, a group of songs that had been recorded in 1972 and intended to be made into a follow-up album to What’s Going On had their long-awaited release as an album–it’s called You’re The Man, and while it might not represent exactly the album Gaye had planned, it’s good to hear this stuff.

* Leonard Bernstein, meanwhile, would have been 100 years old this past August. He died rather too young too, but at age 72 he at least had a pretty good run of it, and boy did he do a lot of things in the time he had. This little overture from the Broadway revival/reinvention of his musical Candide, in 1974, is super charming–a great example of music that can be both complex and accessible at the same time, which is my sweet spot in all genres.

* “Helpless,” by Kim Weston, is another one of those great lost Motown singles that for one reason or another didn’t really hit the big time, despite its terrific appeal. I’ve never wanted to dive too far into what went on at Motown and why some artists got more support than others but Weston appears to have been one of those who never quite got a fair shake there despite her great talent. This was her last recording for the label; she later sued them in a royalty dispute. I’ve previously featured another fine single of hers, “I Got What You Need,” back on EPS 4.11 in 2017, that one being her first post-Motown release.

* Matthew Sweet’s Kimi Ga Suki was initially released in Japan only, as a thank-you to his legion of Japanese fans. While it did get a US release a year later, it has remained somewhat beneath the radar, despite its actually being something of a reunion for the band with which he recorded his seminal Girlfriend album. He wrote the songs in a week and recorded without any initial demos. There’s something to be said, at least sometimes, for spontaneity.

* Bonus Kinks tidbit: lacking any successful single or chart position around the time of its release, The Kinks are the Village Preservation Society, where you’ll find “Monica,” has gathered a slow but steady following over the decades, and was just certified gold in the UK last year, at age 50.

Full playlist below the widget.

“Halo of Ashes” – Screaming Trees (Dust, 1996)
“Why Didn’t You Stop Me?” – Mitski (Be The Cowboy, 2018)
“I’m Gonna Give You Respect” – Marvin Gaye (previously unreleased, 1972)
“Loud and Clear” – The Last Town Chorus (single, 2008)
“King of the Bayou” – Joe Strummer (Earthquake Weather, 1989)
“The Rain, the Park & Other Things” – The Cowsills (single, 1967)
“The Conservation of Energy” – Vanishing Twin (Choose Your Own Adventure, 2016)
“Overture” – Leonard Bernstein (Candide – Broadway Cast Recording, 1974)
“Don’t Go” – Yaz (Upstairs at Eric’s, 1982)
“Helpless” – Kim Weston (single, 1967)
“Breakable” – Ingrid Michaelson (Girls and Boys, 2006)
“Corduroy” – Pearl Jam (Vitalogy, 1994)
“See The Sky About to Rain” – Neil Young (On The Beach, 1974)
“Joanna” – Southern Boutique (Southern Boutique, 2014)
“De Cared A La Pared” – Lhasa (La Llorona, 1998)
“Monica” – The Kinks (The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society, 1968)
“The Ocean in Between” – Matthew Sweet (Kimi Ga Suki, 2003)
“Known Better” – Meg Mac (single, 2013)
“Tell Me When My Light Turns Green” – Dexy’s Midnight Runners (Searching for the Young Soul Rebels, 1980)
“Mister Magic” – Esther Phillips (What a Diff’rence a Day Makes, 1975)

It’s the end of the world as we know it. Literally, the end.

Because then there’s an ice wall.

Living in my comfy bubble of music appreciation, I had thought myself insulated here against the manic idiocy on display in a culture that has willfully separated belief from facts—like believing in a caravan of vicious immigrants coming to do harm, or believing that removing assault weapons from the hands of average citizens means that “they’re coming for your guns.” It’s a vicious cycle, because at the same time, facts then become things that don’t have to be believed. The end result—and boy will historians have a field day with the current generation, if there are any historians left—is that flagrantly misinformed people may believe themselves possessed of great knowledge, while simultaneously accusing those who actually work hard at collecting and analyzing factual information as being the hoaxsters.

Oh it’s a wonderful formula. This is how the current American president can time and again accuse news organizations—staffed by people who are trained in the actual skills of gathering and reporting on actual occurrences—of being “fake,” while he himself utters lies in a more or less continual stream. This is not partisan information this is actual reality; the fact that anyone might think this is a partisan swipe shows how successfully facts have been degraded in our present moment.

Anyway, as I said, here in my sheltered world of listening and writing about music, I have felt removed from this otherwise stubborn problem of what might be called intellectual pollution—until a few days ago, when I received an email from a musician announcing a “Revolutionary Music Submission,” offering a “story of unrivalled [sic] and unprecedented significance.” This turns out to be a song that, according to the email, “forever disproves the proofless spinning globe Earth theory.” It’s an email about how the Earth is flat, in other words, complete with an accompanying explanatory song.

“I realize you may find this proven reality difficult to accept,” the email, quite reasonably, goes on to say. After that, not as much reasonableness; the note continues: “It’s time to wake up, detach oneself from the mainstream media matrix of deception, realize the scientifically proven truth and accept it. This important informative song needs to be heard by every human alive who is not already awakened & aware.”

I’m not going to name names because the point isn’t to quarrel with one random guy with off-kilter beliefs. And I suppose I should have read it and shrugged it off. “People!: what are you gonna do?,” and so forth. But it bothered the hell out of me. Even here, even here, there’s a guy insisting that reality is fake, a guy so drunk on the democratization of opinion (thanks, Twitter!) that he proudly asserts that the experts who study the universe and reproduce observations under properly controlled conditions are the ones pulling the wool over our eyes, while he, musician-guy, he is the one who sees to the truth of the matter, he is the one offering (and I quote) “scientifically proven truth.”

(Side note: this same flat-earth proponent has more than 33,000 Twitter followers.) (Extra side note: I suppose there’s always the chance that this guy is some sort of troll-cum-performance-artist, who doesn’t believe a word of what he’s saying. This is a side ring in the circus of our so-called “post-truth” era: provocateurs purposefully spreading hoaxes, just for laughs. Maybe this is what Andy Kaufman would be doing were he still alive, who can say.)

And look, I know that music has been used in the service of all sorts of nefarious schemes. But my long-standing gesture to the world with Fingertips has been to offer a place of support and solace and tolerance and (I’ll say it) beauty. As such, I feel sullied by the existence of this particular email. Hey, I can stomach all sorts of dopey songs and hype-heavy press releases. The people behind such things may be producing music I don’t care for, but at least they’re doing their best, living here in the real world. But this “Wake up, sheeple!” flat-earth email made me sad, first, and then angry. Angry at the world we have created with our technology, which has mindlessly empowered all sorts of ignorance and malevolence. Who could have anticipated, back in 1989, when we were celebrating, with a hopeful surge, the destruction of the Berlin Wall that all too soon in its place would be constructed not a physical wall but metaphorical one, aimed at disuniting fact from belief, and that, all too soon, forces of greed would rise to weaponize this wall. Misinformation is right at the top of the list of tools used by the corrupt to gain and maintain power. (Walls are another.)

Meanwhile, outside of the bubble of insanity fostered by online algorithms, real scientists remain at work. Just this week a group of astrophysicists unveiled the first-ever photograph of an actual black hole (see above). To the Flat Earth stalwarts, this must look like just another bit of fakery, and as such more evidence of a vast conspiracy to push this Round Earth idea down the throats of the masses. To me, this is proof of the actual mystery of the universe, which is far grander and more pervasive and unfathomable than the feeble concept of reality promoted by people obsessed with denying the accuracy of provable information.

One last question occurs to me: What is the conspiracy here?? I mean, conspiracy theories by necessity are grounded in the idea of hidden powerful people pulling unseen strings for their own evil purposes. So: who is making money and/or accruing power off faking the idea of a round earth, and keeping it going for 2,000 years? I guess that Aristotle really pulled a fast one and made out like a bandit, deducing from assumptions he found logical in his own place and time that the planet we live on—like all other observable heavenly bodies, I should note—is round. About the saddest thing going here is that this doesn’t make any sense as a conspiracy in the first place.

But, obviously, sense is not the operative element. It doesn’t make any sense that a grown man with a concrete track record as an amoral con man, with a demonstrable record of bankruptcies and scams and sexual harrassment to his credit, was elected president of the United States either. Abandon sense all ye who enter the 2010s. The world as we knew it ended on 11/9/16, no 150-foot ice wall around the flat edge of our ailing planet necessary (look it up if you must). And, as of now, with apologies to Michael Stipe, I don’t feel all that fine.

Free and legal MP3: Better Oblivion Community Center (jangly, literate, occasionally loud)

A loose-limbed paean to 21st-century chaos.

“Dylan Thomas” – Better Oblivion Community Center

When a song comes along that’s this affable and effective, you can begin to wonder why everyone doesn’t do this. It seems so straightforward!: lay down a jangly, toe-tapping groove, add in a friendly descending melody peopled by tumbly, literate lyrics, performed by same-note, male-female harmonies, and boom—terrific song. Consider the couple of interruptions from rambunctious guitars (for instance, at 1:22) a bonus.

By their own accounts, Conor Oberst and Phoebe Bridgers, who together comprise Better Oblivion Community Center, did in fact find this song pretty easy to write—Oberst has been quoted as calling the song a “happy accident.” It sprung from a discussion of a Reply All episode (they are both big fans of this great podcast) that had to do with the conspiracy theories online that posit, in apparent seriousness, that the current American president is only pretending to be a colossal moron. Oh and the Dylan Thomas connection seems to do with the basic fact that Oberst is himself a long-time admirer of the Irish poet.

I assume fans either of Oberst or of Bridgers individually will dig this but I myself wasn’t either in particular and I dig it too, in a whole-is-greater-than-the-sum-of-its-parts way. Their blended voices in this relatively upbeat setting have a delightful elan that overshadows a draggy melancholy that, to my ears, can beset both of them on their own. Not that there’s anything wrong with draggy melancholy! Sometimes that’s just the thing. But, not a thing on this loose-limbed paean to 21st-century chaos.

“Dylan Thomas” is the third track on the Better Oblivion Community Center’s self-titled debut, released in January. You can stream it as well as buy it (digital, CD, vinyl) via Bandcamp. MP3 via KEXP.

Free and legal MP3: Son (swaying ballad w/ heft & purpose)

Son’s voice has a depth and elasticity that brings Thom Yorke to mind, if the Radiohead front man were content singing an easy-going melody these days.

“Y&M” – Son

Even here in 2019, a song will sometimes, still, arrive with a kind of purity—an individual artist, minus any management or PR apparatus, reaching out, with enough skill to assemble an articulate and easy-to-navigate email, but minus the weight and hype of an all-out media barrage. Sadly, artists who take this DIY path often end up disregarded by current standards—emails ignored, with few social media followers and no Hype Machine love, they exist in a veritable Slough of Despond, 21st-century style. And lord knows not every on-their-own musician is making music worthy of widespread attention. But it can happen, and when it does, I feel the world brighten.

Take this track by a musician who calls himself Son. Based in London, he was born and raised in Belarus, which I only know because I asked him. As of now, not a whole lot of info about the guy is available online, and even if there were, his moniker of choice is all but impossible to Google. But, all the more reason not to concern oneself with anything but the music. And the music is excellent: a swaying ballad with heft and purpose, “Y&M” launches with little fanfare, but takes its time unfolding (note, for instance, the nine-second gap between the first and second lines of the verse). The early cymbal rolls add to the anticipation of something about to happen. Son’s voice has a depth and elasticity that brings Thom Yorke to mind, if the Radiohead front man were content singing an easy-going melody these days. And while “Y&M” may not operate on a five-star level across the board—I’m not sure, for instance, we need that long second of absolute dead air at 2:44—the fact that this thing was written, produced, recorded, mixed, and mastered by this anonymous Londoner is pretty stunning. And, I have to say, I’m kind of okay with the break in the music after all given that it is followed by a one-minute guitar solo of serious thought and power.

“Y&M”—short for “you and me,” as repeated in the chorus—was released in January. Thanks to the artist for the MP3. If you want to support him, you can buy the track on Bandcamp.

Free and legal MP3: Heavy Heart (languorous dream pop)

“Bed Bug” is so approachable that you may not notice the slurry of indistinct noise that leavens this languorous tune.

“Bed Bug” – Heavy Heart

Ambling at a walking 4/4 pace, “Bed Bug” is so approachable that you may not notice the slurry of indistinct noise that leavens this languorous and crafty tune. There are instruments to discern, for sure—drums, guitar, bass: the traditional suspects—but there’s also that special dream-pop sauce of amorphous sound blurring the background into something that you hear and don’t hear at the same time. Note in particular how it rises in volume at the chorus (first iteration at 0:44), an indecipherable swirl underpinning the lovely melody, which by the way ends with a kind of unresolved resolution (1:06-1:11) (a neat trick in and of itself).

I’d also have you tune into the lead vocals here. Dream pop/shoegaze tends historically to lean on reverb, but it hasn’t here been allowed to nullify the rich, faraway tone of lead singer Anna Vincent. There’s a moment or two where she arches up to a high note (try 0:57, for one), and the way her voice just melts into it is super appealing to me, for mysterious reasons. Too much reverb there would have lost the nuance of it. I like too the song’s casual way with a guitar riff. It’s right there in the intro: a simple, one-step-down, two-note refrain, and from there it insinuates its way into the verse, at four-measure intervals, like a friendly face spied at a bit of a distance. One last, more general thing I appreciate is how “Bed Bug” keeps varying the landscape on us: not only is the verse presented in two different settings (the second time through—1:43—the sonic palette is stripped down and drum-forward) but so is the chorus, which offers us a hazier variant the second time we hear it (2:10).

Heavy Heart is a quartet from London. Released in January, “Bed Bug” was the first single the band put out since an experiment they ran in 2016 in which they wrote, recorded, and released one new song each month for the entire year; the results were then gathered into one full-length album in 2017, entitled Keepsake. You can check out all the band’s recordings and purchase them at Bandcamp. They also now have a brand-new single, “Dowsabel,” which you can listen to there or on SoundCloud.

Some kind of solitude (Eclectic Playlist Series 6.03 – March 2019)

Each month I feel inclined to introduce the new playlist with yet another harangue about the benefit of diversity in music (and everywhere else!). I do try to resist the urge; the exhortation after all is to show, not tell. So, putting aside all my cultural and socio-political theorizing (executive summary: diversity is beneficial!) here we are, yet again: a 20-song playlist featuring music from six different decades of rock’n’roll, incorporating a good variety of genres and sub-genres, this time including classic rock, new wave pop, art punk, rocksteady, jazz fusion, singer/songwriter music, R&B, and various stripes of alternative and/or indie rock. You know: the usual suspects.

If you just happen to be arriving at one of these playlists for the first time, you might want to check out the landing page for the whole series, here, which not only explains a little of the underlying intention, but offers up a link to all previous EPS mixes, of which there are 62 now, including the new one below.

A few notes:

* Revisiting the wonderful “Somerville” from the Pernice Brothers convinces me I really need to investigate Joe Pernice’s back catalog–with which, I admit, I’m entirely unfamiliar. So much music!

* I suppose I couldn’t give Jules Shear the only word on the disintegration of his relationship with Aimee Mann back in the day. That’s apparently what “If She Knew What She Wants” was about, which was featured here last month. Mann in turn wrote pretty much a whole album about the break-up: ‘Til Tuesday’s last release, the quite excellent Everything’s Different Now. Featured here is the final track, and hardly the only one about Mr. Shear.

* Jenny Lewis is doing a fine Stevie Nicks imitation all of a sudden.

* According to reliable accounts, “Hey Bulldog” was the last song recorded by the Beatles as an honest-to-goodness group, with all contributing in the studio at the same time. And, as luck would have it, there was actually a film crew on the spot. For a good time, check it out on YouTube–this was them as they actually recorded it, not staged after the fact.

* Portishead seem to exist in their own separate musical world. Their last album, released in 2008, still sounds as if we haven’t caught up to what they’re doing.

* Ellen Foley had a bit of a moment in the late ’70s into the mid-’80s, not least because she was going out with Mick Jones of the Clash for some of that time. So: do you have any idea what the Clash did after recording Sandinista!? They played as Foley’s back-up band on Spirit of St. Louis. All four of them. What’s more, Strummer and Jones co-wrote six of the album’s 12 songs (including the extravagantly titled “The Death of the Psychoanalyst of Salvador Dali”). The LP has kind of gotten lost over the years, probably because it didn’t make much of an impact at the time in the first place–but it’s a fascinating and often entertaining artifact. In the end, Foley ended up better known either for dueting with Meat Loaf on the rococo classic “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” (that’s her: “What’s it gonna be, boy?”) or for being in the cast of the hit comedy Night Court for a couple of years in the mid-’80s. She has at long resurfaced as a musician in the 2010s, releasing an album called About Time in 2014, and doing some touring since then.

Full playlist below the widget.

“Hey, St. Peter” – Flash and the Pan (Flash and the Pan, 1978)
“Future Me Hates Me” – The Beths (Future Me Hates Me, 2018)
“It Ain’t No Big Thing” – The Radiants (single, 1965)
“The Disappointed” – XTC (Nonsuch, 1992)
“Torchlight” – Ellen Foley (with Mick Jones) (Spirit of St. Louis, 1981)
“Somerville” – The Pernice Brothers (Live a Little, 2006)
“Twelve Thirty (Young Girls are Coming to the Canyon) – The Mamas & The Papas
(The Papas & The Mamas, 1968)
“Ask the Angels” – Patti Smith Group (Radio Ethiopia, 1976)
“The Man Who Played God” – Danger Mouse & Sparklehorse (feat. Suzanne Vega)
(Dark Night of the Soul, 2010)
“Cinnamon Girl” – Prince (Musicology, 2004)
“Right By Your Side” – Eurythmics (Touch, 1983)
“Baby Why” – The Cables (single, 1968)
“On The Inside” – Rosanne Cash (Interiors, 1990)
“Red Bull & Hennessy – Jenny Lewis (On the Line, 2019)
“Lovely Day” – Bill Withers (Menagerie, 1978)
“Magic Doors” – Portishead (Third, 2008)
“Pretend We Live Forever” – Chelan (Equal Under Pressure, 2015)
“Hey Bulldog” – The Beatles (Yellow Submarine, 1969)
“How Can You Give Up?” – ‘Til Tuesday (Everything’s Different Now, 1988)
“Beauty and the Beast” – Wayne Shorter (Native Dancer, 1974)

Free and legal MP3: Sharon Van Etten (forceful, introspective rock’n’roll)

A heavy beat offsets a desultory piano line, synthesizers at once ferocious and distant blaze around the edges, guitars eventually squonk onto the scene, all while Van Etten sings poetically of longing, nostalgia, and destiny.

“Seventeen” – Sharon Van Etten

Rock’n’roll evolves, shifts, mutates—and persists. Anyone who doubts this need only listen to “Seventeen,” which performs the magic trick of weaving a classic-sounding song out of strands and blocks of sounds and textures that never quite existed in music’s “classic rock” heyday. A heavy beat offsets a desultory piano line, synthesizers at once ferocious and distant blaze around the edges, guitars eventually squonk onto the scene, all while Van Etten sings poetically of longing, nostalgia, and destiny—lyrics at once concrete and slippery, a deft interweaving of adult and teen-aged introspection that as a listener you intuit more than comprehend. The song rumbles and, eventually, roars. A master of subtle melodic gestures, Van Etten along the way crafts a chorus that slays with muted glory.

Some commentators hear Bruce Springsteen in the anthemic energy of this song, and while I get the comparison, leaving it at that diminishes Van Etten’s accomplishment. She’s no knock-off. The entire album in fact strikes my ear as a brilliant example of how to be a 21st-century rock’n’roller—taking the bones of archetypal rock music (“Seventeen” has a backbeat; you can’t lose it) and then planting your own individual 2019 self, with all its accumulated know-how and influences, right into the heart of it. Since we last heard from SVE (2014’s Are We There), she has become an actor, a film composer, a mother, and a graduate student in psychology. Which is just to say that she has quite a formidable self to align with one type of creative expression or another. When it came time to record a new album, she opted for a producer, John Congleton, known for synth-pop stylings, and arrived at the studio inspired by the dark, reverberant music of Portishead and Nick Cave. Something arresting was bound to come of all of this, and it did in the form of the enigmatic but majestic Remind Me Tomorrow, which was released in January on Jagjaguwar Records. That’s where you’ll find “Seventeen.”

Van Etten feels like an old friend by now because of the Eclectic Playlist Series, but this is only the second time she’s had a download featured here; if you missed “Serpents” back in 2011, you’re in luck: the free and legal MP3 is still available. Meanwhile, you can listen to Remind Me Tomorrow, and then buy it, on Bandcamp, where it is available digitally, on CD, or on vinyl. And in case you missed it, another song from the album, the brilliant “No One’s Easy To Love,” closes out (and provides the title for) this past month’s playlist, here.

MP3 via KEXP.

Free and legal MP3: Papercuts (buoyant wistfulness)

“How To Quit Smoking” – Papercuts

Opening with a brisk, dynamic, and hummable instrumental riff, “How To Quit Smoking” advances quickly from there into a verse so confidently melodic as to recall some lovely, imaginative amalgam of Belle & Sebastian and The Smiths. Papercuts’ master mind Jason Quever sings with the barest hint of a British accent that he actually doesn’t have and a baked-in wistfulness augmented by vocals that are mixed down into the center of the rhythm section. He sounds to me like someone singing on a budding spring day about how he actually misses the autumn.

This one is propelled by a classic backbeat as well, but note what a different vibe we get compared to the Van Etten song which came before it this month. Despite Quever’s gentle presence the song bounds forward with a determination reinforced every time the opening riff cycles back through. There’s an extra songwriting trick in here that, to my ear, adds to the song’s pluck: the way that in most of the verses, the third lyrical line picks up without any rhythmic space from the second line—listen at 0:36 for an example (the second line ends with the words “on the ceiling,” the third begins with “Read a book,” directly on the next beat, in the same measure). This is a small gesture that you’re probably not intended to notice, but it’s a wonderful flow-enhancer in just the right place.

Quever has been recording as Papercuts since 2004, including one record for Sub Pop in 2011. Long based in San Francisco, he recently moved to Los Angeles. His latest album is Parallel Universe Blues, on which “How To Quit Smoking” is the third track. It was released on Slumberland Records in October 2018. You can listen to the whole thing on Bandcamp, and then buy it there in your preferred format (digital, CD, vinyl). Papercuts has been featured on Fingertips twice previously, in 2011 and 2014. The MP3 this time comes courtesy of The Current.

(Note that MP3s from The Current are available in files that are 128kbps, which is below the iTunes standard of 192kbps, not to mention the higher-def standard of 320kbps. I personally don’t hear much difference on standard-quality equipment but if you are into high-end sound you’ll probably notice something. In any case I always encourage you to download the MP3 for the purposes of getting to know a song via a few listens; if you like it I still urge you to buy the music. It’s the right thing to do.)

Free and legal MP3: Talkboy

Sparkly, melodic indie rock

“Someone Else For You” – Talkboy

With its sparkly veneer and heavy undercurrent, “Someone Else For You” is two minutes and twenty-eight seconds of uprushing melody and impressive craft. Time is saved from the get-go: the song launches with no introduction, which feels like walking into a movie that’s already started. Momentum continues via a verse that essentially fakes right and goes left—the way the first line ends, with the words “into the city” (0:02), leads the ear to expect a similar pause at the end of the next line (0:05-:06). But, instead, the melody flows through an unexpected chord change, on the words “things to say” (0:08), before resolving back in a place that satisfies musically even as the lyrics suggest conflict, referring to words that “always came out wrong” (0:11). Best of all, look where we are now: just 12 seconds in, already treated to an eight-measure verse melody and lyrical intrigue before most songs have emerged from their opening vamps.

And why not? When you have a lead singer with Katie Heap’s rich tones and easy assurance, there’s no point in delaying her entry. The second verse runs through the same territory but now with a wash of wordless backing vocals layered below. The chorus arrives with an extra bashing of drums at 0:25; with its repeating, descending conclusion, it’s more concise melodically than the verse. This provides a clearing for the guitars to emerge from the background, surging first below the lyrics (0:32) and then out into the open at 0:38. The song now carries a heaviness one might not have anticipated from the head-bobbing opening.

Deft touches dot the rest of the song, from the head-clearing acoustic blip at 0:52, to the quiet iteration of the chorus the second time through (1:07), the feedback-y bridge (1:25), and, maybe best of all, Heap’s effortless octave leap at 1:47, after which she finishes the song in her impressive upper register.

Talkboy is a six-person band from Leeds. “Someone Else For You” is their third single, released earlier this month. You can download this one, as usual, from the above link, and then check the other songs out over on SoundCloud.

Just say you tried (Eclectic Playlist Series 6.02 – Feb. 2019)

Did you like me associate “Wild is the Wind” with the late, great Mr. Bowie? He does astonish, with his version on Station to Station. But it was my friend George, from over at Between Two Islands, who alerted me a few years ago to the fact that the song is an old one–from a 1957 movie of the same name–and was originally sung by none other than Johnny Mathis. I should have known this but then again one can’t know everything when it comes to music (unless you’re George). The song, which was nominated for an Oscar in 1958, was composed by the Russian-born composer Dmitri Tiomkin, who specialized in scores for American Westerns. The lyricist was Ned Washington, perhaps best known for penning the words to “When You Wish Upon a Star” and–who knew?–“Town Without Pity.” (The rabbit hole of forgotten songwriters and their work is deep and compelling.) Bowie by the way was inspired by Nina Simone’s version, which she recorded live in 1959, and then on a studio album in 1966. It isn’t necessarily the easiest thing to mix Johnny Mathis into a playlist that also includes Björk, Taj Mahal, and Warren Zevon but that’s my job–easing out into Jane Siberry’s majestic “The Valley” certainly gave it a smooth landing.

Random bits:

* The Tourists were a British band, most notable these years later for being the band in which Annie Lennox and Dave Stewart first met and played together. They were active from 1976 through late 1980. Eurythmics emerged in the Tourists’ aftermath, and released their debut album in 1981.

* I am not notably either a blues aficionado nor a Billie Holiday devotee, but Cassandra Wilson’s album of jazz standards associated with Holiday, 2015’s Coming Forth By Day, strikes my ear as monumentally good. Working with producer Nick Launay (known for his work with Nick Cave in particular but with dozens of impressive credits), Wilson imbues these old songs with smoky atmosphere at once quirky and incisive.

* Warren Zevon is celebrated mostly for his early (’70s) and later (’00s) work but the stuff in the middle, in retrospect, isn’t too shabby either. I have particular fondness for the title track to this 1991 album, as full of humor, chaos, and melody as any of his most memorable material.

* Sharon Van Etten’s new album, Remind Me Tomorrow, is pretty great, in part because she’s just pretty great in general. Did you read about how she’s studying to be a psychologist? In addition to her being a singer/songwriter, an actress, and a mom? I was already very impressed by her and now all the more so.

* The Cornelius Brothers & Sister Rose: two fantastic hit songs, and then a bunch of forgettable filler. How did this happen? Who knows. But now I’ve given you both of the good ones here, so their days populating the Eclectic Playlist Series are officially over.

* Speaking, earlier, of forgotten songwriters, or partially forgotten, or in any case under-appreciated, I give you Jules Shear, who has had a preternatural knack for pop-rock melodies. The Bangles made this one a hit a year after his version. Yup it’s very ’80s. And completely wonderful.

* Lastly: if you have somehow managed never to have seen the “Bachelorette” video, a classic directed by Michel Gondry, do yourself a favor and go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJnhaXwK86M. And this advice coming from a guy who never usually sees the video. What a sensational song this is, still.

Full playlist below the widget.

“O Lucky Man!” – Alan Price (“O Lucky Man!”: The Original Sountrack, 1973)
“So Good To Be Back Home Again” – The Tourists (Reality Effect, 1980)
“I Love You So Bad” – Ezra Furman (Transangelic Exodus, 2018)
“Treat Her Like a Lady” – Cornelius Brothers & Sister Rose (single, 1971)
“How Soon” – Martha Wainwright (Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole EP, 2005)
“Billie’s Blues” – Cassandra Wilson (Coming Forth By Day, 2015)
“Bachelorette” – Björk (Homogenic, 1997)
“She Loves to Be In Love” – Charlie (Lines, 1978)
“Horse and I” – Bat For Lashes (Fur and Gold, 2007)
“If She Knew What She Wants” – Jules Shear (The Eternal Return, 1983)
“Kiss of Life” – Sade (Love Deluxe, 1992)
“I Scare Myself” – Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks (Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks, 1969)
“The Mountain” – Dave Carter & Tracy Grammar (Tanglewood Tree, 2000)
“Mr. Bad Example” – Warren Zevon (Mr. Bad Example, 1991)
“Part Time Love” – Ann Peebles (Part Time Love, 1971)
“Last Wave” – They Might Be Giants (I Like Fun, 2018)
“Wild is the Wind” – Johnny Mathis (A Certain Smile, 1957)
“The Valley” – Jane Siberry (Bound By The Beauty, 1989)
“Take a Giant Step” – Taj Mahal (Giant Step, 1969)
“No One’s Easy to Love” – Sharon Van Etten (Remind Me Tomorrow, 2019)