Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.
For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!
When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
I swim in an ocean of acronyms at work. It’s not quite its own language, but it’s close — like Scouse meets COBOL (or something). There is a shared language among carriers. But it’s different enough that when DL and NW merged, corp. comm issued us cheat sheets so we’d know what our new colleagues were saying. Every industry, group, etc. has its own argot, it’s own inside baseball talk — and don’t get me started on inside baseball about… baseball. Mostly, it’s just linguistically easier. A picture is worth 10,000 words, but an acronym or two are worth at least a handful, right?
I thought we were good, and then I came across this over on Futility Closet:
Just a bit of trivia: In the New South Wales railway system, the telegraph code RYZY meant:
Vehicle No ….. may be worked forward to ….. behind the brakevan of a suitable goods train during daylight provided locomotive branch certifies fit to travel. If the damaged vehicle is fitted with automatic coupling it must only be worked forward behind a brakevan also fitted with automatic coupling by connecting the automatic couplers on each vehicle but, if fitted with ordinary drawgear, it must be screw coupled. Westinghouse brake to be in use throughout train and on damaged vehicle. Guard to be given written instructions to carefully watch vehicle en route.
This reduced a 90-word message to four letters.
Oof.
I’m aware of the irony of using a lot of words to talk about acronyms and snapshots, but what I’m getting to is this: these playlists are a snapshot of my week — of where I’ve been, or at least where my mind’s wandered. Belly of the Whale? The cover art took me back to the Oregon coast and family vacations as a kid-the cover art is of a shipwreck you can climb on and around. The Strokes? They’re part of the Best of ’01 bracket coming up — as are R.E.M. (not this record, of course) and Life Without Buildings. Res should’ve been in, but didn’t get the votes needed. That’s probably worth its own story.
Wall of Voodoo pops into my head every so often for no reason — and I may or may not have watched their US Festival performance while procrastinating at work this past week. There are plenty of lookbacks, but also plenty of looking forward, with brand-new tracks from Spencer Hoffman, Vegas Water Taxi, and Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever. And the idea that the latter have a new record on the way is exciting. Frfr. YKWIM?
KA—
On to the music…
A few of you have asked whether I sequence these as an album or mixtape. The answer is always “yes.” In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…
This week, Side A is tracks 1-12 (ends with The Outfield), with Side B being 13-27
Today we’re taking a look at the latest from at the latest from David Forman.
The boilerplate intro: Every year, I celebrate all the great music we’ve been gifted while worrying that next year will see the other shoe drop. I first did that in December 2020 and have been proven wrong every month since. Not only are there a ton of releases steadily coming out, but it also transcends genre or any other artificial guardrail we try to put up.
In other words, a ton of good stuff is still coming out, and there’s something for everyone. It’s almost overwhelming— but in all the best ways. These are another batch that caught my attention recently.
Hard to believe that it’s 2026 already, but here we are. Luckily for us, the records keep coming. Below are a few quick field reports from right between the sound machine.
Let’s get into it!
David Forman- Who You Been Talking To
Anytime I think of LA, I think of all the people that haven’t quite made it yet; the people whose story we don’t yet know. The waitress who’s in the biz, but that really just means a couple of IMDB credits as an extra. The disillusioned film major working a shitty office job, hoping for a better tomorrow. The hotel clerk working nights who’s got a screenplay that’s perfect- it just needs to get in front of the right eyes.
The second in the two-record deal Forman signed in 1976, Who You Been Talking To was recorded at the Sound Factory on Selma Avenue in Hollywood over two weeks in late summer 1977 (just days after Elvis Presley’s death) and engineered by Dave Hassinger, who had worked with the Rolling Stones and Frank Sinatra. Despite the extraordinary musicianship and Forman’s remarkable vocal performances, Arista Records head Clive Davis chose not to release the album, claiming he didn’t hear a radio hit, instead offering to return it to Forman to shop elsewhere. Devastated, Forman declined, and the tapes went into storage for nearly fifty years.
The story of David Forman’s Who You Been Talking To is the stuff of just such a screenplay. It’s the sort of story we love: an artist delivers their debut to incredible acclaim, only to record a follow-up at exactly the wrong time. The label refuses to release it, and said artist falls into obscurity, known still only to a few people who have copies of the first record.
Enter a music listening club- in this case, journalist Joe Hagan, photographer Tim Davis, and museum curator Joel Smith (Disclosure: Hagan offered to send me a copy of the album to listen to, which I accepted.). Smith happens upon the record in a cutout bin and falls in love with it. He shares it with the group, who all follow suit, and a minor obsession is born. Through a little detective work, they figure out Forman lives nearby and invite him to lunch. Forman plays them the (then) unreleased record, and a campaign to get it out into the world is launched.
Hagan had sent me links to the liner notes and a Bandcamp link ahead of time, but I decided to go into it cold (literally, as it was -18 when I first played it). My first surface-level impression was one of surprise; this is a really well-done record, with a murderer’s row of session musicians, including Ry Cooder, Jim Keltner, David Lindley, Fred Tackett, Tim Drummond, and Flaco Jimenez.
And while I get that Arista might not’ve wanted to go in this direction, I’m surprised they didn’t at least hold onto it and ship it later. I mean, Kudos to Clive Davis for offering it back to Forman, but still… this strikes me as a rare mistake by the man.
My second impression is that Forman reminds me of Randy Newman. Like, a lot. Especially his vocal stylings on tracks like “Thirty Dollars.” That’s certainly not a bad thing, but it’s a theme I couldn’t shake as the record went on.
The title track kicks things off and sets the tone; it’s a sultry groove, and once it landed in my ears, it stayed there for the rest of the day. “A Train Lady” is a bit of infectious soul that reminds me of sounds from the Grand Strand on the opposite coast. Maybe I just have beaches on my mind. Either way, it’s a ride I’m grabbing a ticket for.
Things slow down with the ballad “Painted in a Corner,” before a bit of a mistake with “Let It Go Now.” A pleading number, it feels like the stereotypical track they threw everything at (falsetto included). The money shot, as it were. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, I guess.
But just like one bad scene doesn’t take down a whole movie, we’re quickly back on track with “Midnight Mambo,” one of this writer’s favorites on the record. This represents a sharp shift to late-50s/60s pop melodies (right down to the obligatory sax solo). I spent a lot of time thinking about who might be best to cover it, and what their versions might sound like. My two faves were Jimmy Buffett and Dean Martin (suspension of disbelief is, of course, required here).
If “Midnight Mambo” dips a toe into the ‘50s/’60s, “What is so Wonderful” does a cannonball into the deep end, with its doo-wop and backup singers. Penultimate “Losing” is a dark track best suited for the backside of the clock. Not my cup of tea, but that’s a me issue. Maybe it was one Davis couldn’t get past, and that helped drive his decision to pass? We’ll never know. Either way, “Now That I Found You” kicks the tempo back up and ends things on a high note.
Fifty (ish) years is a long time to wait for a sequel. I talk a lot about records finding you at the right time, and this was a textbook example. I love that the universe aligned so that the right group of people found this at the right time and were able to share it with the world. Talk about a storybook ending.
Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.
For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!
When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
As some of you know, I spent much of last week on a much-needed escape south of the border. It’s good not to have an agenda or an infinite scroll for a to-do list. It’s even better not have to wear pants. And for my money, nothing clears your mind or hits the mental reset better than just watching the ocean for hours on end. Sometimes I wonder if that makes me like Puddy when he “raw dogged” a flight back from India, but then I remember that I’m too old to care (shrugs).
At the end of our trip, a storm rolled through (translation: some light rain with heavy wind), sending wave after wave of sargassum algae to roll ashore. This, of course, is an occupational hazard for anyone traveling where the water’s warm, and I’m grateful it happened at the back end of our trip, not at the front.
I watched as one man, armed only with a pitchfork, worked tirelessly to move it from one pile to another. Soon, he was joined by 3-4 others, but this didn’t make it any less Sisyphean. I couldn’t help but see it as a metaphor for the nonstop waves of slop we’re subjected to. In the freelance editing work I do, I see it everywhere.
On the music side, we see it in the anonymous tracks that are slotted into our playlists, or “suggested” to us by an equally anonymous algorithm. These tracks are utterly forgettable; empty calories designed to briefly pacify a passive listener. It’s a lot, and it’s easy to become disheartened and disillusioned. To think that no one is still fighting the good fight. The good news is that it’s not true. There are people every day who come together and make records by their own hand and mind for us to enjoy (for my fellow synth pop/EDM peeps, if it first came from someone’s brain before hitting a sequencer, I’m counting it). It’s amazing, and an potent antidote to the waves of shit all around us.
Like my man with the pitchfork, they’re fighting an uphill battle but on the right side of cultural history.
KA—
A couple of quick notes:
There’s some new to me stuff from Junior League, Thomas Duxbury, and Atomic Tom here. Look for some words on them soon. “Little Light” is the latest from Santa Fe’s Maybe So and is on our pal Kiley Larsen ‘s Mama Mañana Records— another guy fighting the good fight. New Order’s Technique turned 37 this week, and well, you had to know this was coming. I was also at the Hard Rock in Rockford Illinois this week for a comedy show, and never in a million years would I have predicted hearing Bob Weir and The Dead as the before and after music. Rock & Roll weirdness is undefeated.
A few of you have asked whether I sequence these as an album or mixtape. The answer is always “yes.” In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…
This week, Side A is tracks 1-12 (ends with New Order’s “Run”), with Side B being 13-27
Some thoughts on on sea lions, bumper stickers, and the situational application of Constitutional rights.
Note: Shorter one this week. I’ve been chasing the sun and purposefully doing a whole lot of nothing. I typed this out poolside after seeing the one too manyieth faux patriots walk by. I’m writing this on my phone. There’s gonna be typos.
Last fall, my sons and I took the long way back to Portland by going up the Oregon coast. If you’re familiar with the route, you know the views are incredible. You also might know that there is a place called Sea Lion Caves along the way where you can, well, watch sea lions do whatever it is that they do.
And if you’re, “ahem,” old enough to remember, you may recall that they used to give out large quasi-bumper stickers. These were on heavy card stock and instead of adhesive had wire on the ends that you used to attach them to your bumper- and by “you,” I mean parking lot employees who did this while you were inside (You will also have to be old enough to remember life before unibody styles for this to work).
You could take these on/off as you saw fit.
This was also the era when the phrase “I may not agree with what you’re saying, but I’ll defend to the death your right to say it” was common. Those bumper stickers only came with adhesive. And why wouldn’t they? It’s easy to commit to. The Bill of Rights applies to everyone and isn’t selective. In fact, it’s most important when dealing with something you disagree with or find contemptible. Everyone knows the “rights” part. It’s the responsibilities part that people often conveniently forget. That’s all of them, by the way; 1A, 2A, 4A, and so on…
Alex Pretti was lawfully exercising all 3 when he was murdered by an agent of the state.
Being on social the last few days, it’s clear that people have either willfully ignored those rights or are so brainwashed that they’ll rationalize the actions of ICE for the lulz. The same people who were so tightly clinging to their right to carry a long gun into the nearest CVS are now willing to cast it aside for their ‘side.” A class of Connecticut 2nd graders only made them dig in their heels. But a guy in a blue state? Sure, why not?
The trolls use quotes like those paper bumper stickers—rights for me, but not for thee. Something to be adhered to or removed on a whim, depending on the narrative. It’s all performative. These cowards and enablers are on the wrong side of history and must be regarded with the utmost contempt.
When they type “FAFO” with a laughing emoji, do they really mean it, or are they under the spell of all the ICE sizzle reels our timelines have been flooded with? Would they say that if his friends and family were in the room? I’d like to think not, but in 2026 I’m also not sure.
I wish I could say Alex Pretti’s murder at the hands of the state was the final act. It won’t be. There’ll be more, and there’ll be video for us all to see too many times. But I also know that when ordinary people come together, extraordinary things happen. And it won’t be from online trolls who selectively decide when rights apply and when they don’t. It’ll be from ordinary people—people who would literally rather be doing anything else.
I’ve said it before, but real change won’t come from social media or cable news. It will start in wood-paneled community centers in small towns most of us have never heard of. In church basements and union halls…On the main drags of Midwest suburbs, places like the Twin Cities, and tucked away corners of San Diego. From people armed with cardboard signs and the sheer audacity to still care.
The soundtrack to revolution isn’t just protest tracks from Bruce Springsteen and Billy Bragg; it’s the hand of someone hitting the horn in solidarity with their fellow Americans, and a whistle to protect those willing to risk it all just to join us.
The people who believe in democracy, humanity, and the grand experiment that is America don’t shape-shift. Those values are adhered to our souls. There will be accountability at some point. Until then, do what you can, where you can. Know your rights. Know your neighbors. Ask for help. Be of help.
Volume 11 | January 2026: Sam & I tackle some of the records we missed last year.
Good morning!
Today Sam Colt and I are each sharing a few more of our favorite 2025 records…ones that might’ve been overlooked or deserve more time in the spotlight.
We are so back.
Welcome to the latest installment of our (not so) new series! For those of you who may have missed previous editions, here’s a bit of context:
In this monthly series, Sam Colt and I will each share our picks for artists and/or titles that haven’t received their due. You’ll recognize Sam’s name from our On Repeat and Friends Best of Series, and also our Top 100 of all-time serieslast fall. These posts will adopt the latter’s format; I will make my case for my three picks and my reaction to Sam’s. Sam’s page will do the reverse.
In the inaugural post, we noted that successive editions would narrow things down slightly. Maybe a specific genre…maybe a specific era…maybe a specific…well, who knows!
“There never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do” is a great line from an admittedly heavy song by Jim Croce (and, as it turns out, a prescient one in his case). When it comes to records, it never feels like I have enough time to listen to all the ones I want to, to write up the ones I hope people will love, etc. Real life is really good at getting in the way of the things we want to do. This is obviously a great problem to have, but still…
As noted before, I’ve taken some steps to remedy that. I left quite a few records on the table this past year, and come December, I’d like to be able to tell you that things went differently in 2026. We’ll see how it goes.
But it’s not just me that’s been wrestling with this. My partner in crime, Sam Colt, is in the same boat, and for our first installment of the year, we figured we’d at least try to fix that by shining a light on a few releases that either got by us or we ran out of time on.
When you’re done here, remember to check out Sam’s take at This Is a Newsletter!
The home screen of my phone is blank. I have every app tucked into a folder titled “Kitchen Sink.” This is good for helping with endless scroll, but bad for things like remembering I have the Bandcamp app. It also means I forget that I happen to own great records like The Tub’s Cotton Crown. This is one of those records you play, then wonder why you don’t play it more often.
Cotton Crown is a simple record. It does exactly what it says on the tin. And the tin says things like “great up-tempo rock with a lead singer who sounds like he could be Richard Thompson’s son.” If you haven’t heard Owen Williams yet, give this a listen, then play something from Shoot Out the Lights. It’s uncanny.
That alone is worth the price of admission, but Thompson is also a fantastic songwriter. On Cotton Crown, the lyrical themes are pretty dark, but this isn’t a nine-song dirge. The words might be a downer, but that is more than offset by the band’s consistently upbeat, uptempo sound.
I mean, if you’re gonna sing a verse like:
Yeah I’m not myself Haven’t been him for weeks Been deranged Been such a freak
—from “Freak Mode,” having a little jangle behind it helps it all go down. And that’s essentially the formula for the band’s sophomore outing (no slump here!). Bummer lyrics and a sunny sound. It’s a great pairing and makes for a record that, more than most, I wish I’d spent more time with these last few months. Hopefully, this is a preview of what’s to come.
Sam’s Pick and My Take: The Necks- Disquiet
Here I am once again saying that I don’t care what Dril thinks; you do, in fact, have to hand it to Sam once in a while. He has once again put a record on my radar that I never would’ve seen in a million years. I went in cold, knowing only three things: the band name, the title, and that there were four tracks.
In my head, this added up to a punk/hardcore EP, and, well, let’s just say that was (very) wide of the mark. Jumping straight from Cotton Crown to this didn’t help. My first clue was when I saw the opening track was just under an hour.
Then there’s this from their Bandcamp page:
With music so open, there are profound opportunities to choose: what to focus on, whether to focus at all, etc. Disquiet takes this further: there is no particular listening order prescribed. There is no “Disc 1, Disc 2, Disc 3.” The music itself seems to stretch time, and this presentation challenges ideas of sequencing. The Necks, one may argue, are a mode of discovery as much as they are a band.
That’s… a lot. Distilled down, this is an ambient record, but not the sort that pops up when you Google “cure for insomnia.” It’s chill enough to play in the background while doing something else (translation: not distracting), but interesting enough that I found myself going back and listening to parts more than once. It’s cliché to describe a record as challenging, or one that asks as much of the listener as they do of the artist, but when it fits, it fits. And you’ve got to hand it to The Necks: this is an incredible record.
Hélène Barbier-Panorama
As noted above, at the end of the year, I wrote about what to expect going forward. One of the things I highlighted was work I didn’t quite get to in 2025, and records that, for whatever reason, I didn’t feature here. I avowed that I would change that in 2026 and even tentatively titled the series “Records I Left on the Table,” suggesting we could workshop the title. What’s not up for debate is that this is one of the records I had in mind (and was playing) when I typed that first draft. There were admittedly some time constraints—it was released in mid-November (see also: De La Soul).
The TL;DR is that this is sui generis no wave. But there’s so much more. With Panorama, Barbier has built a quixotic little universe that pulls you in right from the start. Perhaps nowhere is that more evident than on “Milquetoast,” a track that feels like something Björk might’ve written if she were from Montreal.
Throughout the record, the sound dances around with flourishes like little whirling dervishes. Sometimes it’s very twee; at others, it’s intense. It’s a little off balance, sometimes erratic, and delightfully peculiar in a way that only someone like Barbier could pull off. The result is a record that keeps you coming back for more.
Sam’s Pick and My Take: Sudan Archives- TheBPM
Longtime readers may recall that I’m not a fan of trap or anything “glitch,” but I love house music—Detroit and Chicago varieties doubly so. The BPM hits all four. There’s no shortage of four-on-the-floor here (I read that she used a Roland SP-404). I’ll take all of that you’ve got!
But there are also family-sized doses of Auto-Tune, which isn’t awesome. That said, the production here is on point. The lyrics touch on substantive topics (a rarity in this genre), making much of this sound like a dancefloor confessional rather than the usual frivolous—or purely hedonic—words we’re used to hearing boom from speakers. None of that sucks, and it all adds up to a pleasant overall experience.
Say She She- Cut & Rewind
Say She She’s third album, Cut & Rewind, really deserves more attention. From beginning to end, it’s their best work so far—pure fun with sharp observations, and every track grooves as much as the message it carries.
The New York City trio—Piya Malik, Sabrina Cunningham, and Nya Gazelle Brown—draw from ’70s soul, disco, and funk, but it never feels like pastiche.
The album opens with “Possibilities,” an early showcase for the three voices. Individually, they are incredible; together, they become a force, riding along on a wave of funk. “Under the Sun” follows as an anthem of solidarity. “Little Kisses” slows things down for a second and lets us catch our breath. On “Make It Known,” Say She She stretches into more contemporary territory, showing us that they’re not above covering some new ground. More than anything, whether it’s new wave, disco, or pop, they make it look easy.
Part of the album’s magic comes from the band’s recording approach. Apparently, each song was written and recorded the same day, with only three instrumental takes and the best one making the cut. Given how polished the record sounds, I have to wonder if that was true. The sound hitting your ears and the words that just hit your eyes are hard to reconcile.
Cut & Rewind is a timely reminder that music can be both joyous and political, and boy, could we use some of that right now! Say She She are locked in, drop some killer grooves, and deliver a record that’s right on time for these times.
Sam’s Pick and My Take: De La Soul- Cabin in the Sky
Last month seems like ten years ago, but just a few short weeks ago, we were waist-deep in AOTY season. For my part, I kicked things off with a “Noteworthy Releases” piece where I noted, “…Cabin in the Sky came out less than four weeks ago—and IMO, it’s some of the best work they’ve ever put out.” Not only do I stand by that, but I would also contend that had it come out earlier—even in, say, September or October—it would’ve made my top 10. I just hadn’t had enough time to absorb it all. In fact, I’m still not sure I’m there.
On paper, this is supposed to be a eulogy for Dave Jolicoeur, aka Trugoy, aka Plug 2, but you’d never know. It would’ve been easy, I suppose, to drop a sad record—one where every bar oozed grief. No one would’ve blamed them, and sales would’ve likely been steady. That’s not De La’s style, and they certainly weren’t about to start now. Instead, we get something more akin to a celebration or a procession you’d see in New Orleans. Or, in their own words 37 years ago: “Style is surely our own thing. Not the false disguise of showbiz.”
That’s a wrap! What are your thoughts on these records? Do you own any of them? Share your thoughts in the comments! Rants, raves, and spicy takes are all welcome. And if you have any ideas on future themes, please share those as well! Don’t forget to check out Sam’s thoughts over at This Is a Newsletter!
Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.
For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!
When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
Each week, I try to come at this with a certain theme—or at least a nominal throughline—running through it. Sometimes that really does only go as far as “what I’ve been listening to.” There’s no deeper meaning here, no message I want people to pick up—just a snapshot of the week that was for a suburban dad living on Hoth in flyover country. Some real Occam’s Razor stuff, to be sure. And sometimes that escape or respite is just what we need—if only for a few minutes at a time.
Zooming in a bit: on Saturday, I mentioned that the Best Record of 2001 bracket would kick off soon (are you in?). There’s a couple of tracks here from records on the initial ballot (Colin Hay, The Dirtbombs, and Semisonic), a few brand-new tracks from old faves (New Pornographers, Snail Mail, Kim Gordon), and a new spin on an old favorite, with The Beaches taking on a song everyone raised on MTV will remember (h/t to Dan Pal for getting it on my radar!).
We’re also rewatching Mad Men, which led me to finally find a Decemberists song I liked. Funny how that works. Saving the best for last, we’ve also got a new one from our pal Lancelot Schaubert.
In other words, a world surrounded by sound, with tracks coming from all corners. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!
P.S. A few of you have asked whether I sequence these as an album or mixtape. The answer is always “yes.” In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…
This week, Side A is tracks 1-14, with Side B being 15-27
Today we’re taking a quick look at some garage punk from both the Best Coast and No Coast, some no wave from Down Under, and bit of hip hop from Nottingham.
Longtime readers may recall that I reviewed 100 new (to me) records last year. Because I’m a glutton for punishment love music, I’m doing it again this year. This is the latest in the series.
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at the latest from Dry Cleaning, Sleaford Mods, Perfect Buzz and Wristwatch.
The boilerplate intro: Every year, I celebrate all the great music we’ve been gifted while worrying that next year will see the other shoe drop. I first did that in December 2020 and have been proven wrong every month since. Not only are there a ton of releases steadily coming out, but it also transcends genre or any other artificial guardrail we try to put up.
In other words, a ton of good stuff is still coming out, and there’s something for everyone. It’s almost overwhelming— but in all the best ways. These are another batch that caught my attention recently.
Hard to believe that it’s 2026 already, but here we are. Luckily for us, the records keep coming. Below are a few quick field reports from right between the sound machine.
Let’s get into it!
Wristwatch- III
Album art courtesy of Wristwatch
The pitch: After a 3-year layoff, Madison’s Wristwatch kicks the door in and delivers a blistering dose of garage punk.
If nothing else, the title of the band’s third album is on the nose. Know what else is on the nose? Just how well they nail down these songs. I had some knowledge of the band (translation: I knew a couple of tracks) and liked what I heard, but had never experienced a full record. Listening through the first few, it’s clear I’d been missing out. The previous records were recorded and mixed at frontman Bobby Hussy’s house. For III, the band brought in producer Beau Sorenson (Bob Mould, Superchunk) to engineer and mix the sessions. The result? Everything is leveled up (no pun intended).
III is a record that starts at 3k RPMs and never lets up. Coming apart at the seams is an occupational hazard of playing this brand of high-voltage music. That never happens here. Hussy is as theatrical as ever, but never too far gone. Ben Deidrich’s guitar work runs the gamut from bruising chords to angular riffs and back again. The rhythm section of Tyler Spatz (Geoff Palmer) and Eric Hartz (The Flavor That Kills) keeps everything in the pocket and keeps everything from spiraling off into terminal velocity.
When I do a first listen, I like to try to take note of what might be a feature track. This time around, I couldn’t narrow it down. Opener “Screwed” gives an early taste of what we’re about to get into. “Hints” does the best job of showcasing each of the four players and drives deep into post-punk territory. But really, all of ’em rip. It’s magnificent. And just the thing for right now. I’ve been listening to this on my pre-dawn commute this week, and it’s almost made me forget the subzero temps on the other side of the windshield. Get in.
The RIYL roster includes some of the usual suspects: Buzzcocks, New Bomb Turks, and to my ear, maybe even a bit of the Supersuckers.
In 2021, Dry Cleaning’s New Long Leg felt new and exciting — just the sort of thing needed to shrug off the lingering malaise of the pandemic. Florence Shaw’s writing and deadpan vocals felt like a “brand refresh” for The Fall. It might’ve been a case of putting a new spin on an old formula, but it worked. And it worked well enough that New Long Leg was my record of the year.
That year, I wrote in part:
The English post-punk band knocked it out of the park with their debut album…The musings/vocals mix well with the layered, dense soundscapes she’s talking over (but not overtaking). Dry Cleaning reminds me a bit of King Missle, except Shaw’s talking about things like lanyards and helicopters, and not detachable…organs…
In other words, Mark E. Smith and John S. Hall walked so Dry Cleaning could run.
But given the brand of music they were making, how far could they go? If I’m honest, I didn’t really want to find out. If New Long Leg was a revelation, Stumpwork was… not. And in a crowded field, it wasn’t hard to overlook it.
The nudge I need came from our pals at 3Albums6OldGuys who went in with the same reservations I had.
Dry Cleaning is, at least from a listener’s perspective (my sense is they probably don’t give a rat’s ass), a band confronting two issues: (1) they’ve really only had a singular sound, so for how long can they keep doing the same thing?; and (2) other bands have now gotten more attention with that sound, and because of those other bands (rather than them), the sound seems a bit played out. So, do they keep going, a la Guided by Voices, and just say “f it; this is who we are and what we do” and keep churning out more of the same, or do they change it up?
Things kick off with “Hit My Head All Day,” which at 6 minutes and change might be about 3 minutes and change too long for a Dry Cleaning song. But just a few seconds in, you start hearing other elements and stylistic shifts. Nothing major, just enough to think that maybe they’ve gone with mixing things up. Maybe the formula’s not as rigid as we thought?
“Cruise Ship Designer” has a bit of call-and-response, with Shaw serving a bit of an anchor while her bandmates do their thing. At 2:30, it’s the perfect length. The title track feels almost… warm? Ditto “The Cute Things.”
And are there horns here? Am I listening to the right record here?!
Dear reader, it sure sounds like it, and I am.
The band brought in Cate Le Bon to produce. Le Bon’s no stranger to this lane of no wave and art pop, and does well to bring Shaw out of her shell. Insouciance is great, but only for a few tracks. Same with bandmates Tom Dowse (guitar), Lewis Maynard (bass), and Nick Buxton (drums). Shaw is still the sun they orbit around, but overall, Secret Love finds them operating more as a band than on previous records.
So yeah… a lot of leaning into familiar territory here, but also hints of evolution. Sometimes the signal’s faint, and sometimes it’s 5×5. That said, they save the loudest transmission for the end. Album closer “Joy” is, well, a joy. I’m always a sucker for a jangly guitar, but add Florence Shaw again actually singing in places, and now we’re cooking with gas. It’s all relative, but relatively speaking, it’s a sea change and a refreshing one at that. If the other elements throughout the record (e.g., brass, background choruses, etc.) were a hint, this is indisputable evidence.
Perfect Buzz- Happy Trails (EP): PDX garage/punk scene vet Petey’s (Pure Country Gold, Suicide Notes) latest project is Perfect Buzz. Happy Trails blends first-wave punk, power pop, and psych in a way that can only come out of the 503. I’ll take all of this ya got! On a side note, in their Bandcamp pic, one is wearing a Dead Moon hat, which made me irrationally happy. Incredible.
Sleaford Mods- The Demise of Planet X: One of the things I miss the most about Twitter is having a feed full of cool/interesting people. That itself was a gift. Occasionally, something like “Kebab Spider” showed up on your TL and blew your mind. It was the perfect record at the perfect time. Those days are gone, but Sleaford Mods are still at it and have delivered what might be their best work yet. The Demise of Planet X is again the perfect record for right now. Surveying the land, they pull no punches and give no Fs. At this point, that’s table stakes for the band.
In danger of becoming a one-trick pony (see also: Dry Cleaning), the duo of Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn long ago figured out that stretching the boundaries made sense. There are guest spots (Aldous Harding, Sue Tompkins, etc.), which we’ve come to expect. What I wasn’t ready for is how varied the sound itself is. Make no mistake: it’s still looping and relentless, but we’re a long way from Fearn holding up a tape recorder in the background. The end result is infectious.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on these records! Did I get it right, or am I way off the mark?
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For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
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Last week, my wife and I decided to walk up to our local high school to watch the boys’ basketball team. As we walked in, we were met with the usual sort of mild chaos these events bring. This was made worse by the fact that the school is trying to realign the kids/parents/visitors/home sections. On paper, this makes sense—they want the student section behind the bench as a sort of sixth man. I get it. That the new layout was only sorta explained and almost totally ignored is on brand. There are, of course, much, much worse things to deal with.
As we found a place to sit, I was struck with two conflicting thoughts: 1) man, I’m glad we don’t have to deal with this anymore, and 2) how lucky we are that we still get to do this.
There was a time when that was all very much in question. In 2020, we were steeped in the world of player-parenting. I’ve noted it before, but there was a years-long stretch where my car never didn’t have a pair of cleats in it (It smelled exactly they way you’re imagining it did). Losing that sports lifeline cut deeper than a lot of the other things that vanished. Again, not the biggest thing to worry about during a global pandemic, but it sure felt like it. It felt like a dark tunnel with no way out.
Then came light. A pinpoint at first, but my first inkling that it wasn’t another oncoming train came in the form of seeing people posting clips of Wilco’s “Shot in the Arm” on their social media feeds. Help was on the way in the form of a vaccine. It was, well, the boost we needed to bounce back.
2026 is off to an equally heavy start. I don’t know how we’ll know if/when we’ve turned a corner, but seeing “creative” uses of songs from Frozen being used in Minneapolis gives me the same sort of cautious optimism I felt six years ago.
This week, that Wilco song is here. So too are brand-new tracks from Autoleisureland (former members of The Kane Gang), Odd Marshall, Girl Scout, and Memorials. Minneapolis is well represented (how could they not be?!), as are a couple of old standbys. My eyes are wide open and my shoulder very much dropped, but how lucky we are to still get to do this. Let’s work to keep it that way.
Note: Qobuz is missing a couple this week. Apple is missing Autoleisureland.Now it’s your turn.
Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!
P.S. A few of you have asked if I sequence these as if they’re an album or mixtape. The answer is always “yes.” In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…
This week, Side A is tracks 1-13, with Side B being 14-27.
P.P.S What song defined 2025 for you?Tell me about it here. Thank you to everyone who has responded so far. Please keep ‘em comin’!
Kevin Sent 
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