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For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing.
The playlist below is some of what I’ve had in heavy rotation. This week, it is again overindexed on new (like, brand new) releases from the likes of OSEES, San Gabriel, and Field Hospitals—always a good thing! There are also a couple of faves from
Overlooked outside of Canada, The Tragically Hip is worth a second listen
Good morning!
Today Graham Strong’s taking the wheel and is talking about The Tragically Hip’s Up to Here.
Today we’re lucky to have friend of On Repeat RecordsGraham Strongsharing his thoughts on The Tragically Hip’s album, Up to Here. If you’re not already familiar with his work, Graham is the man behind To Write With Wild Abandon, where he helps writers overcome obstacles and emphasizes having fun along the way. It’s a never miss newsletter, and his work is well worth your time! When you’re done here, please check it out!
Today, Graham’s making his case for why Up to Here deserves to be in the running for Best Record of 1989. I’m happy to have him; this is a band that for whatever reason has always been a bit of a blind spot for me. One of these days, I’ll do a deep dive into their discography and see what I know I’ve been missing. In the meantime, I’m happy to have an expert fan weigh in!
And with that, I’ll get out of the way…
KA—
How would I describe The Tragically Hip?
Imagine a band that can grab you like Elvis, Bruce Springsteen’s power and patriotism, Paul Simon’s poetic lyrics, and the Rolling Stones’ straight, thumping rock songs that beg to be turned up to 11.
“Oh, that’s over-hyping them,” you might say. But I’d reply no, that’s exactly how fans might describe The Tragically Hip. Let me explain why.
Unless you grew up in Canada when The Tragically Hip first started playing, it’s hard to understand the full impact of this band. It baffles me that, except for a few pockets around the world, people outside of Canada don’t seem to get the Hip. It’s like the Beatles showed up in New York one August evening after taking over the world, and everyone in summery Central Park just stood there and stared, unable to make heads or tails…
My sense from the comment sections of On Repeat Records is that the readers here are more open to things that are different. So I’ll tell you why I think the Hip’s debut full-length album, Up to Here, released on September 5, 1989, deserves to be on the list of the best albums of that year – and why you should give them a listen.
A short bio: The Tragically Hip formed in 1984 in Kingston, Ontario, about three hours east of Toronto. The line-up from left to right on the Up to Here album cover: Gord Downie, singer, lyricist, and frontman; Gord Sinclair, bass and back-up vocals; Johnny Fay, drums; Rob Baker, lead guitar; and Paul Langlois, rhythm guitar and back-up vocals. They started as one of those hard-working bar bands who showed up no matter how far the drive through the night, playing throughout southern Ontario before touring across Canada and into the States and Europe.
After a successful EP, the band recorded Up to Here at Ardent Studios in Memphis. Until this point, the Hip hadn’t broken out, even in Canada. But four singles from the album changed that: the sometimes soft, sometimes loud “Blow at High Dough” (great album opener), the straight-out rocking “New Orleans is Sinking” (my favourite song of all time), the bluesy “Boots or Hearts”, and the Canadiana ballad, “38 Years Old.”
The Rolling Stones comparison from above is apt for this album. Many of the songs are hard-edged, bluesy rockers. You’d be forgiven if you mistook the opening to “Trickle Down” as a Stones song.
But the important thing – and what makes this album so important – is that the proto-DNA of what would become the Hip is already percolating underneath the familiar rock beats. As all good bands do, they would mature as songwriters, but this album laid a solid foundation. For example, even Stones-y “Trickle Down” features chord changes that are undeniably Hip. And that’s not all – the lyrics, the tight-but-loose playing style, the social commentary, the Canadianess… It’s all there in those first vinyl grooves.
Ah yes, and there’s their so-called Achilles’ heel – being too Canadian for international markets. That comment always bugged me. Here’s the thing: you don’t have to get the Canadian references to enjoy the songs. Many Canadians didn’t even get them until they were pointed out. They’re just… lyrics.
But, great lyrics. Wow, what a poet Gord Downie was! Like the rest of the album, his lyrics on Up to Here are proto, but the story in “38 Years Old” – imagined from a real jailbreak near Kingston – has incredible impact in just 275 words, eight of which are repeated five times. That takes talent.
Here’s another example from “Opiated”, the last track on the album:
He bought two-fifths of lead-free gasoline. Said, “The bottle is dusty, but my engine is clean.” He bought a nice blue suit with the money he could find. If his bride didn’t like it, St. Peter wouldn’t mind.
Nothing earth-shattering. And at least one line pulls from another song – The Grateful Dead’s “Brown-Eyed Woman.” But for the debut album of a straight-rocking band? None too shabby, either. Makes Robert Frost’s snowy woods look like a stroll through the park.
Up to Here made the Hip instant rock stars. The album went Platinum with 100,000 units sold in the first six months (hey, we have a tenth of the US population) and Diamond within 10 years (1,000,000 records). They won a Juno, the equivalent of a Grammy in Canada, for “Most Promising Artist” in 1990.
They certainly lived up to the award. The Tragically Hip’s popularity exploded in the 1990s. The band released 12 more studio albums in their career (10 reached Platinum or higher) and they made an appearance on SNL in 1995.
But their live shows were where they really rocked. Probably the best Hip concert I saw was at Grandma’s Sports Bar in Duluth, Minnesota, with 997 raving fans from Thunder Bay, Ontario, and three or four locals wondering what the hell was going on… The Tragically Hip remained a bar band in spirit to the end.
And that’s what Up to Here is: a great bar-band album that is solid in its own right, but also a glimpse of the amazing things to come.
Gord Downie died in 2017 from a rare form of brain cancer, gutting millions of fans. Just like Elvis’ death did, just as John Lennon’s. Except for a couple of special one-offs, the band doesn’t have the heart to play with a new singer à la Queen or Journey. I don’t blame them.
Their music, of course, is still there for the listening. Spotify now has a preview button that will give you a good taste of the album, if you want to zip through tracks. But if you’re looking to sample full songs, I’d go with the singles in the order they appear on the album: “Blow at High Dough,” “New Orleans is Sinking,” “38 Years Old,” and “Boots or Hearts.” There’s not a bad song here, but those may be the most approachable for the first-time listener.
Oh, and one more thing. Crank your headphones to 11. Like I say, the songs are begging for it.
Graham Strong is a freelance writer and die-hard Hip fan. He writes about the common pitfalls and fears writers face, and how to overcome them on his Substack site, To Write with Wild Abandon.
Kevin here again:
Thanks to Graham for his time and for sharing his thoughts on The Tragically Hip, and to you for being here.
My vote: Today’s matchup sees The Hip taking on the much higher-seeded Seeds of Love by Tears for Fears. My bracket pick was a straight play for the higher seed (and the record I’d actually heard.) As for my vote today? I’m on the fence, but leaning toward underdog; Graham’s made a pretty compelling case for Up To Here. It’s great album- turns out I really have been missing out!
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
The Best Record of 1989, Day 59: #27 Fine Young Cannibals, The Raw and the Cooked vs. #102 Godflesh, Streetcleaner
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Fine Young Cannibals and Godflesh
Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write some of these up.
I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.
KA—
Fine Young Cannibals, The Raw and the Cooked
Going into this review, my biggest question was, “Is it any good?” I knew the ubiquitous “She Drives Me Crazy” and “Good Thing.” I also vaguely remembered “I’m Not Satisfied” and “Baby Don’t Look Back” and vaguely recalled liking them.
My biggest question afterward was, How do you classify this record? And why had I not bothered with it all these years? Okay, that’s two questions, but both fair ones. Honestly, I have zero idea how to classify this album. There’s ska, Motown-era influence, a Buzzcocks cover, and everything in between.
FWIW, that cover was featured in the movie Something Wild, and a few other tracks were featured in other films. Even the band name was taken from a movie title.
Fine Young Cannibals — which included former members of The Beat, Andy Cox and David Steele, and vocalist Roland Gift — weren’t exactly straight out of central casting when it came to hit makers, but here we are. Steele and Cox had already cracked the chart code before with tracks like “Mirror in the Bathroom” and “Save It for Later,” but it turns out what would be their biggest hit almost didn’t happen.
The Cannibals—Roland, Andy and David—sent me songs through email for a few weeks and we decided on a list.”
One song was titled “She’s My Baby,” which David Z loved. The band, however, appeared less than enthused: “When they said it was rubbish and they wanted to throw it away, I told them I wouldn’t want to work with them unless we did that song,” Z said, “They reworked the lyrics and came up with ‘She Drives Me Crazy.’ Everyone I know could feel that way—and has.”
Lucky for us, it was released. With that sharp snare hit, a stripped-down arrangement, and Roland Gift’s now-iconic falsetto, we got the sort of right song at the right time that comes along about every 10 years or so.
The much more straightforward “Don’t Look Back” peaked at #11, while the fifth and final single, “I’m Not Satisfied,” only reached an anemic #90. Shame, really, as it deserves to be heard by a much wider audience.
This would (more or less) mark the end of the line for the band; they split up a few years later before recording a follow-up LP. But before that, we got the Raw and the Cooked- a record that is, well, a good thing (sorrynotsorry)
Don’t be me: If you haven’t checked outThe Raw and the Cooked yet, do yourself a favor and give it a listen. Albums that nail that perfect mix of art and pop, old school and new school, don’t come around too often.
Godflesh, Streetcleaner
Oh, hey, sludgy riffs and ghoulish vocals labeled as “post metal.” Fun! Man, what a letdown after listening to FYC. I hope whoever nominated this got the help they needed.
Okay, that’s maybe a bit unfair. I can appreciate the way they blend metal and industrial genres here, and they’ve done well to paint a dystopian hellscape, but this feels like something a SWAT team would play on a loop to coax a suspect out of a house. Hard pass.
My vote: Ever fallen in love with a record you hadn’t heard in a while? You can never have too much of a good thing. I’m not gonna look back when I vote for FYC.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
The Best Record of 1989, Day 58: #59 Blake Babies, Earwig vs. #70 Red Hot Chili Peppers, Mother’s Milk
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Blake babies and Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write some of these up.
I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.
KA—
Blake Babies, Earwig
At some point, I think everyone finds a band that they regard almost as a best-kept secret—something that no one else knows about, a sort of sonic archaeology from a dig only you were. Blake Babies was one of those bands for me.
None of this matches reality, of course. The Blake Babies had a respectable following and plenty of solid reviews. Juliana Hatfield got more than her share of the limelight, but things like announcing she was still a virgin and the whole is she/isn’t she? drama with Evan Dando chummed the waters of a predatory press. It was all a distraction, and it was unfair.
Meanwhile, there was the music. And there was Earwig. The short version here is that this is the best kind of jangle. It’s a light (but not dizty) easy-breezy type of vibe. The sort of thing you might listen to on the way to a day on the beach. Depending on your taste, that either means five stars or maybe 1. No need to bury the lede here; it’s the former for me.
If you’re looking for a little more of a descriptor, opener “Cesspool” will shed some light on things. It’s the sort of straightforward, catchy vibe that runs throughout the record.
With its abrupt shift about halfway through, “You Don’t Give Up” might be the exception here. Ditto “Loose” with its chunkier chords. “Lament” is another highlight.
You could argue that most of the songs sound similar, but again, if you like that sort of thing, it’s just a bumper crop of what you love. If you don’t, you should probably just skip this record; Life’s too short.
The record isn’t polished or overproduced, which only adds to its charm. This band never struck me as being quirky just for the sake of doing so.. That sound (both specific to the band and in a larger sense) reminds me of a lot of other records made in that same era. It has always struck me as a very informal affair, like something made in a seaside cottage with the windows all open. You can almost hear the salty air coming through the speakers. And it makes it all the better.
Red Hot Chili Peppers, Mother’s Milk
Growing up, there was a clear dividing line amongst RHCP fans. That line, drawn in bright red with a fat Sharpie, was right after ’87’s The Uplift Mofo Party Plan, with tribal identity associated with one end of the discography or the other. Music fandom is atavistic as it is, but it seemed particularly so with this band and this specific part of the world. Half the crowd wanted to cling to the early stuff, and the other found their on-ramp with records like Mothers Milk. You can often find some from #teamearlydays by their tattoos. If they have one of the Peppers’ logo, you’ll know.
If those first few records represent a sonic what might have been, Mother’s Milk finally shows what the band can do. It’s more cohesive than the first records. There’s a little more thought and a little less bawdiness. The cover of Stevie Wonder’s “Higher Ground” gets a lot of deserved praise, but for me, this new era is best exemplified by opener “Good Time Boys.” It’s still always a good time for a good time, but it’s more defined, more fleshed out.
The keyword here is “a little.” There’s still some frivolity (“Sexy Mexican maid”), but the band is also wiser, having by now endured some things. I don’t see a world where “Knock Me Down” comes along any earlier in the band’s timeline. More than anything else, it bridges the gap between the sort of frat boy stuff of Mofo & Freakey Styley into the more mainstream sound that would come next with breakout record Blood Sugar Sex Magick. It’s a record that rightfully belongs on either side of that imaginary line.
My vote: I’m happy to see Blake Babies made the cut. Does the relatively high seeding mean others felt the same way as I did? Guess we’ll see. My bracket pick for RHCP rode high on the wave of name recognition, but I owould’t be mad to see Earwig move through to the next round,
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
The Best Record of 1989, Day 57: #6 Nirvana, Bleach vs. #123 The Rolling Stones, Steel Wheels.
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Nirvana and The Rolling Stones
Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write some of these up.
I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.
KA—
Note: Today’s piece draws heavily from anarticle I wrote in April of last year marking the anniversary of Kurt Cobain’s passing.
Nirvana, Bleach
It’s weird to find myself at an age where I can start a story with “I remember when” without irony.
Nirvana and Kurt Cobain are no exception. I recall with razor-sharp clarity how hearing ‘Negative Creep’ live off “their upcoming record” felt like a kick to the head. It was amazing, and everyone in the crowd that night knew we were at the starting line of something special.
Barreling to my local Tower Records in a car whose steering wheel I couldn’t see over to get Nevermind? Yep. That too.
They played great music, no doubt. But their relatability was magnetic. Come for the music, stay for the down-to-earthiness. Krist Novoselic always struck me as the proverbial older brother of my friends. The one who was either an upperclassman in HS, or went to Reed. An itinerant presence, but one that always came with a smile and cool records.
Cobain was something else. I think what made Cobain so relatable was the feeling that he was one of us. Aberdeen Washington isn’t that close to where I grew up, but people tend to generalize the entire Pacific Northwest as where they’re from.
Different license plates be damned; he was one of us.
…and two things struck me instantly. The first was: oh, wow, I know this guy. He wasn’t some sort of rock-and-roll space alien—he was actually like a lot of the stoners I went to high school with.
Reading that 30+ years later hit me the same way ‘Negative Creep’ did all those years ago. I “knew” that guy, too. In a lot of ways, I was that guy.
Back to the record:
Before Geffen, Smart Studios, Courtney Love, or even Dave Grohl, there was Bleach. Nevermind’s time stamp marks the group as a ’90s band, and it’s close, but the reality is they were tearing the roof off of clubs and upstaging headliners well before that. My words above weren’t meant to be hyperbolic; we really did feel like we were witnessing something amazing. A lot of bands back in the day were awesome, but not like this. Even in the early days, Nirvana was extraordinary.
This was even before picking up their music at Tower Records. They were on Sub Pop, and I have no idea about any distribution deals, but I can tell you I picked up my copy of Bleach (on cassette, thankyouverymuch) at a place called Locals Only Records in Beaverton. That wasn’t false advertising; they only sold music by artists from the Pacific Northwest. Aberdeen counts.
If Nevermind is mentioned in the same breath as Pearl Jam, Bleach deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as (relatively) lesser-known Seattle bands like Tad and the Melvins. It’s heavier, with sludgy riffs and a chugging rhythm section (Chad Canning and Dale Crover were on drums here).
“Negative Creep” is like standing in front of a blast furnace, and for my money, it is still one of the best tracks they ever put on tape. “Love Buzz” puts a fantastic spin on the Shocking Blue track and, dare I say, bests it. Opener “Blew” is a maelstrom.
Kurt Cobain gets an early chance to show off his songwriting here. Tracks like “Floyd the Barber” lean toward the absurd, but he truly shines on “About a Girl.” It turns out he’s got some chops. It was not always the easiest thing to hear behind the wall of fuzzed-out stoner rock we were getting, but it was there, just waiting for us.
Cobain’s untimely death and the band’s relatively short lifespan mean that they are often lionized (see also Joy Division). That’s fine. I think it’s safe to say that Nevermind changed the world—it’s a record that rearranged plenty of minds. But that momentum starts with Bleach. “Negative Creep” walked so that “Smells Like Teen Spirit” could run. I’m just glad I was there to see it.
The Rolling Stones, Steel Wheels
If you ever want to get the prototypical “music guy” (and they’re almost always guys) to launch into a stemwinder about how music today sucks, say something mildly negative about the Stones…or say something like Undercover has a couple of good songs. Or just leave ’em out of your Top 100 albums altogether. Trust me; it’s like moths to a flame. Just give your inbox a heads up about what’s comin’.
So, at the risk of taking a swing at that hornet’s nest, I’ll say this: Steel Wheels is an incredibly mediocre record. It’s home to one of their best tracks (“Mixed Emotions“) and forgettable tracks like “Hold on to Your Hat.” It also has an “Almost Hear You Sigh,” which is somewhere in the middle. A serviceable enough ballad, but one weighed down by too many coats of polish. I’m sure in ’89 some people wore out this cassingle during a break up or whatever, but are we sure this is the same band that put out tracks like “Gimme Shelter?’
Steel Wheels served as a reunion record of sorts, with Keith Richards and Mick Jagger burying the hatchet and laying some tracks down. That’s all well and good—it ensured another 30+ years of tours where they played the hits—but it would’ve been nice to see something novel come out of this reconciliation.
My vote: Look, I get why people have an affinity for the Rolling Stones. We tend to latch onto bands we first heard in our youth. I feel the same way about Nirvana- it would be hypocritical of me to say anything otherwise. That said, the Stones’ records of yore are not the same ones they released mid-career. The edges have been sanded off. There’s not a lot of ‘there” there. It’s commercially viable, but also the stuff of commercials. Bleach is a record whose edges are impossible to wear down. Love it or hate it, it’s one of the first green shoots of what was to come. And what was to come was incredible. My bracket pick and vote will both be going for Nirvana.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Steve Reich and Concrete Blonde
Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write some of these up.
I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.
KA—
More than once during this series, I have hit the keyboard with no idea what I’m going to type out. Maybe I don’t know the record…maybe I’m agnostic toward the band…whatever the reason, there’s not a clear/cut direction mapped out ahead of time.
For me, that’s part of the fun. Can I make this work? Can I sculpt these random thoughts into something both entertaining and informative for anyone on the other side of the screen? We’ll find out before too long, but I’ll tell you this for free: if any record’s gonna pressure test that ability, Steve Reich’s Different Trains is it. I’d never heard of either him or the record. Because I’m a chaos agent, I like to be spontaneous, so I decided to go cold without doing any research first. If you are familiar with this record, you’ve probably already sussed out the ending by now and can skip ahead to my thoughts on Concrete Blonde. For everyone else, let’s see where this ride takes us…
Pulling it up, I see it’s Steve Reich and Kronos Quartet. I only vaguely know the latter name, and if pressed to name a single piece of work by them, I would fail. This clearly is something not in my wheelhouse, either now or in 1989. But it’s also seeded relatively high, so I’m hoping that it’ll be interesting even if it isn’t something appealing to me. Mostly, I just want something tangible or an interesting angle.
The short version is this: there are three songs, er, “movements,” and the intensity ramps up with each successive track. There are voice snippets here, each growing ever shorter until they simply become notes in the work(s) themselves. There are also on-brand sounds such as steam trains, whistles, brakes, etc. It all makes for work that leaves the listener disoriented. It’s pretty intense—and I like me some intense. Once I learned the backstory, it became even more so.
Reich, as it turns out, was a child of divorce. His parents split early, and he spent a lot of time riding the rails across the country between his mom’s new home in LA and his dad’s in New York. Later, it would dawn on him that at the same time he was criss-crossing the US, other kids his same age were riding trains with much uglier destinations; Auschwitz, Dachau, etc. A real case of “there but for the grace of God, go I.” The voices we hear on the record are from his governess, a porter on the trains Reich regularly rode, and three holocaust survivors. Different Trains is intense before you know the backstory. It becomes downright harrowing once you do.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately- how where/when you ‘re born is the structure to your life’s story. I’ve been viewing it through the eyes of a middle-aged dad who spends a lot of time wondering how he got here (and where his glasses are). But at the same time, how fortunate a hand I was dealt. I was the right age at the right time to be one of the first to see more than one band that would change the world (more on that tomorrow!). My parents’ decision to buy a home where they did meant proximity to kids who would also be music nerds, and of course, the wonder that is Oregon1. Mt. Hood? Way good.
And so too is this record. I don’t have the technical savvy to discuss the specific elements of the record (the cello is nice, I guess?), but I can definitely vouch for this being a ride that’ll leave you more than a little shaken. It’s one you don’t easily forget. In 2025, “Never forget” seems more imperative than ever.
Please don’t be the one with Joey on it Please don’t be the one with Joey on it Please don’t be the one with Joey on it
~Me, pulling this record up to play
My not-at-all-subjective take on Concrete Blonde going in was this: I don’t like “Joey.” Like, at all. I love “Still In Hollywood.” Like, unequivocally. “Bloodletting” (the song) is cool in a sort of sleazy way. Everything else is up for grabs.
About four tracks in, I feel a strange sensation come over me. Do I…do I like this record? Yes, yes I do. Time to tear up my old thoughts on the band, and at a minimum, carve out an exemption for this record.
So “Joey wouldn’t” come for another year (yay!), and in the meantime, we get a gritty, just sleazy enough record packed to the gills with chunky riffs and Johnette Napolitano’s voice. There are some who’ll tell you she can’t quite stay on key. Doesn’t matter. The sheer force of these pipes is something to behold. And the list of people who sing worse is a mile long. More importantly, it feels purpose-built to match the music here. It’s something you hear in impossibly hot clubs with low ceilings and bathrooms that qualify as Superfund sites. It’s delicious. Put together, the record feels perfect to soundtrack the side of LA tour buses that don’t take you through. The world of dive bars, out-of-this-world Mexican food that never gets Instagrammed, and the sorts of unforgettable characters that make for great song lyrics.
My vote: I would love to say that Steve Reich’s record is now hopelessly quaint. An anachronistic recording of an event that could never possibly happen again, but we’d both know I was lying. At age 36, its lessons have more urgency now than they did when it was released. A record doesn’t have to be in your wheelhouse to tell a riveting, necessary story, and this one does.
Going the other way, Concrete Blonde delivers a snapshot of a very specific vision of Los Angeles that most people either never see or that has been lost to time and/or the clouding of memories. In this version, the beer is cheap, adventure plentiful, and things are just dangerous enough to get interesting. And that’s my kinda town. My vote’s for Concrete Blonde (not having “Joey” on the record also helps).
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
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.
As always, thank you to those who have upgraded your subscriptions this past week. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts all help as well! Thank you!
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For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing.
The playlist below is some of what I’ve had in heavy rotation. This week found me again listening to a ton of new (like, brand new) releases from the likes of Cyan Pools, Dar Williams, and Great Comet. Always a good thing! 2025 might be a hot mess, but not where new music is concerned.
The singer stops by to talk about her new album, the inspiration behind it, and what being pulled onstage to sing with a soul legend was like.
Photo: Lila Wolfe
Good morning!
We’re in for a treat today; soul singer Morgan James stops by to chat!
If you’re taking on AC/DC, Stone Temple Pilots, and Metallica, you need your A-game. With Soul Remains the Same, Morgan James delivers, backed by the quiet defiance that’s fueled her career for over a decade.
This record is way more than just a covers album; it’s a declarative statement.
James reshapes the tracks on Soul Remains the Same by standing her ground, not distancing herself or making rote copies. These versions are “faithful” only in that they respect the bones; after that, all bets are off.
Honestly, I had some questions, but it’s a good thing. She knows what these songs mean to all of us (she’s a fan too), and what they mean now, in her hands.
Vocally, James sounds assured. This is someone who spontaneously swapped verses with Chaka Khan, after all. There’s no trace of studio polish (or autotune) papering anything over. She’s giving 110% here; the result is full-range soul, restraint when needed, power when it’s called for. Her background in theater and classical music explains the discipline, but emotion rules this release. There is a fine line between putting one’s stamp on something and staining it. Morgan is aware of this and keeps it in mind. She doesn’t copy anything here; instead, she completely reinterprets everything. Nor is she trying to out-sing the originals-she doesn’t have to. She’s giving them new life while honoring where they came from.
“I don’t try to change something to be clever. I don’t want to change something that’s already great…But sometimes I’ll hear a song and think to myself, This would be amazing with horns, or what would this sound like with a choir or a B3?”
James has built her career off the beaten path—first at Juilliard, then Broadway, and now releasing records independently. Some artists release cover albums as placeholders or as a cash grab. This isn’t one of those times. James takes a bigger gamble here: she puts herself into every verse. These aren’t tribute tracks or glorified karaoke—they’re testimonials.
As I listened, I’d think, “This sounds familiar,” only to remember that it was a song I’d heard countless times before. That’s perhaps the best thing I can say about Soul Remains the Same; James’ take is so novel that you forget you’re listening to her perform one of your favorites. Instead of comparing versions, you’re too caught up in how good these are.
“In making this album, I fell in love with these songs all over again,” said James. “Even iconic songs you’ve known your whole life take on a completely new meaning when seen and heard through the eyes and voice of a woman. This may not be a musical space people would envision me entering into—but I hope fans will listen with fresh ears and find new meaning and power in this music, just as I have.”
I know this is starting to read like a presser, so I’ll stop here. But consider me sold. Soul Remains the Same is a fantastic record well worth your time.
I recently had a chance to speak with James via email. We covered everything from the song that “had” to be on the record to licensing tracks. Our conversation has been lightly edited for clarity and flow.
Congrats on the new record! Can you quickly walk us through your backstory for those who might not know?
Thank you so much!! So my new album is called Soul Remains The Same, and I like to describe it as: It’s as though Aretha Franklin went into the studio with AC/DC. It’s heavy, masculine tunes from the ‘80s and ‘90s, iconic rock songs through a soul lens. But it’s all the classic soul sounds that I am known for and that I love so much—the songwriting is just from a different era.
You’ve previously recreated entire single albums, such as Jeff Buckley’s Grace. Why take things in a more collective direction this time?
Between my original music albums and my periods of writing songs, I like to exercise my creativity in other ways. And what better than to draw inspiration from the great artists and songwriters around me. The reason I covered complete albums in the past, such as Grace, the White Album, or Joni Mitchell’s Blue, is because I wanted to step inside a whole body of work. And I think that really teaches you so much about the mind of an artist and the process of making an album, from start to finish.
For this album, I really wanted to focus on a period of time that was united by certain themes and a very specific sound, and it was a period of tunes written by and for men— where sometimes the soaring melodies are slightly obscured by the (really cool!) but heavy production style. I wondered what would happen if you stripped some of that away and replaced it with horns, a Wurlitzer, or layers of feminine vocal choirs. I hoped that it would really bring these songs into a light.
Of the tracks on Soul Remains the Same, do you have a particular favorite, or one that just “had” to be on the record?
I have fallen in love with every single one—even more than I already did, listening to them as a teen!
I KNEW I had to have ‘The Day I Tried to Live’ by Soundgarden. I think Chris Cornell is one of the greatest singers of all time, and his songs are so virtuosic and dramatic—I wanted to pay tribute to him, for sure. I also knew I wanted to rep Living Colour, as well, with ‘Cult of Personality.’ And that song has never been more relevant.
How have the original artists reacted to your work? Have you received any feedback?
I haven’t heard feedback from them yet! I hope I do.
On a more technical note, how much of a hassle was the licensing process? Was securing the rights for any songs, particularly easy or hard?
Securing compulsory licenses is not difficult—you don’t need ‘permission’ to record a song that was already previously released. Unless it’s by Prince (IYKYK) 😉
Getting pulled onstage to sing with Chaka Khan had to be the thrill of a lifetime! What was going through your mind as you belted out “Sweet Thing” together?
I am still not over it! It was one of those true magical New York moments, completely unplanned. But like they say: stay ready so you don’t have to get ready! But I definitely blacked out hahaha.
If you could pick one track to play for someone who’s never heard your work, which would it be and why?
One track from this new album? That might be… ‘Better Man,’ because it has all the elements of what I love in a song and in one of MY arrangements. It has the instrumentation and background vocal arranging, and the dynamic range really takes you on a journey. If I were to choose a song of mine that I wrote, I would choose ‘Say The Words.’
Last one, just for fun; I bump into you as you walk out of the record store. What records are you carrying?
I am carrying the Duke Ellington Nutcracker, Aretha Franklin Unforgettable: a tribute to Dinah Washington, and Stevie Nicks Wild Heart.
Click the record to listen on the platform of your choice.
Soul Remains the Same is out today (8/8). You can grab your copyhere.
Click here to learn more about Morgan, grab copies of her records, and find her tour dates.
The Best Record of 1989: Day 54: #51 The Sugarcubes, Here Today, Tomorrow, Next Week! vs. #78 3rd Bass, The Cactus Album
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a quick look at records from The Sugarcubes and 3rd Bass.
Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write some of these up.
I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.
You know those clips on YouTube where they isolate the bassline from a hit song, or Michael McDonald’s voice from “Peg?” Imagine something like that, but where you could edit out an element.
Now, picture using the audio equivalent of Control + F to find/delete everything related to Einar Örn’s vocals from The Sugarcubes’ Here Today, Tomorrow Next Week! You’d have a contender for record of the year, with fans split over whether it or Life’s Too Good is their best. I like Stick Around For Joy, but let’s be real—I might be alone on that.
Here Today, Tomorrow, Next Week! should’ve been the album where The Sugarcubes leveled up by doubling down on what made Life’s Too Good so memorable. Instead, they ran with the one element that worked because it was restrained and put it front and center. Imagine being the producer and hearing, “More Einar everywhere!” Yeesh.
On Life’s Too Good, Einar appeared in just the right doses, playing something of a foil to Björk—it worked, because it was contained. Here, the leash is off, and his constant interruptions drag down nearly every track.
I don’t mean to pile on here, but at the same time I kind of do—especially since his trumpet playing is one of the things I like most about this record. Why couldn’t he have focused on that instead? What’s with wanting to be the North Atlantic version of Fred Schneider?
Meanwhile, Björk is in fine form, throwing herself into these songs with a fury that hints at her later solo career. You hear her pushing her limits. Just when you think, Yes! Yes!—Einar bursts in with more yelped nonsense, and all bets are off.
Musically, there’s a lean, angular energy, with tight, new wave-adjacent grooves and just enough pop sparkle to keep things moving. The horn sections shine, especially on songs like “Tidal Wave.” The rhythm section is locked in, pushing things forward nicely. It makes you want to like this record more than you do. Which again begs the question—why not steer Einar toward his strengths?
Back to YouTube: imagine you’ve erased Einar’s vocals and are listening to the improved version. The sound has evolved, and the grooves have more substance. It still tries to be a party record but is less about novelty and more about what the album could have been.
That’s the rub. The record succeeds in many areas: Björk shines, and the band delivers. So what happened? Did Einar have outsized sway, or did everyone agree? It feels self-sabotaging.
The other fault is that it drags on too long. It feels longer than Life’s Too Good, despite actually being shorter. Someone should’ve made the unilateral decision to cut “Hot Meat,” which feels like a Temu version of “Cold Sweat.”
Here Today…is a record that comes so close, but with Einar’s overwhelming presence, it ultimately misses the mark. Still, if you lean in close, you can hear real gold. Here Today, Tomorrow, Next Week! is the band at a crossroads, unsure of what to keep or cut.
Sometimes it works—but more often, it’s just exhausting.
For the third Bass, I had to phone a friend. I had a feeling that we liked a couple of tracks, but otherwise, we spent most of our time pointing and laughing at MC Serch and Pete Nice. Turns out my memory failed me (quelle surprise!). My buddy texted back within minutes, saying, “The Cactus Album is a Classic.”
Okay, so that’s sorted then.
Listening to the record, I’m surprised at how well it’s held up and the creativity of the samples used. I wasn’t expecting a Blood Sweat and Tears track sample here, but it’s also possible I memory-holed it like everything else. I did remember “Gas Face,” and it’s as fun now as it was then. Does 50-year-old me find the same appeal that teenage me did? Apparently, yes. Same story with “Steppin’ to the AM” (home of the sample mentioned above). Do two tracks a record make? No, but this was a nice enough way to soundtrack part of my shift at work.
My vote: Took the easy out here, and went with The Sugarcubes. For all its faults, this is still a Sugarcubes record and Björk’s on it. That’s some gravitational pull. Also, another example of the performative voting we’ve seen previously (and will see again).
Ask yourself: Who’s cooler: Bjork or MC Serch? Exactly.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
P.S. Tomorrow’s Match Up features #19 Neneh Cherry’s Raw Like Sushi taking on #110 Don Henley’s End of the Innocence.
One I’d never heard before now, and one I’m ambivalent (at best) towards. Decided to punt on this one and give myself a pass on writing it up. My bracket pick and vote will both be going to Neneh Cherry.
The Best Record of 1989 Day 53: #14 Jesus and Mary Chain, Automatic vs. #115 Kitchens of Distinction, Love is Hell
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Jesus and Mary Chain and Kitchens of Distinction
Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d occasionally write some of these up.
I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags and hot takes are welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.
KA—
The first of what would be many trips to Portland’s Pine Street Theater was marked by a beer bottle winged from the stage, whizzing inches from my head. It turned out fine; this became an anecdote I’ve shared many times. A ha-ha moment that was very close to having a very different ending.
The band playing? The Jesus and Mary Chain.
I don’t think people thought this record was a joke, but I do remember many people lamenting that it wasn’t another Psychocandy. The band also got some flak for using drum machines and synths (there’s no bass guitar on the record). You can argue for each of those points, but I think they were saying that the record might be too poppy for their taste.
Ultimately, though, Automatic gets a largely undeserved bad rap.
The album followed 1988’s Barbed Wire Kisses and would be followed by the ’92’s Honey’s Dead. In other words, you’ve got my favorite on one side and a solid outing on the other. But Automatic’s importance in the Jesus and the Mary Chain discography shouldn’t be questioned. LikeDarklands, it has been a sleeper that has risen in reputation as time passes.
The album was produced by the Reid brothers and recorded at Sam Therapy studios in West London. It would give us two hit singles: “Blues From a Gun” and “Head On,” the latter being the poppiest thing they ever made this side of “Sometimes, Always.” The album reached #11 on the UK album charts but only managed #105 on the US charts.
At the time of its release, the reception was lukewarm, but in some circles it was shit hot. “Head On” got a lot of airplay on the likes of MTV’s 120 Minutes, and no less than Pixies wound upcovering it. It also caught the eye of my then-girlfriend, which meant that I had a willing partner in crime to make the cross-town trek to Pine Street.
Possible hot take: If Barbed Wire Kisses was an homage to surf rock, Automatic was a nod to dance music writ large. “Blues From A Gun” has a swagger that’ll get your hips moving, “Head On” has one of the most glorious choruses of the year, and the druggy “Here Comes Alice” is all dark sugary goodness. None of these are dancefloor fillers in the traditional sense, but all make it hard to stay still.
The Jesus and Mary Chain never made the same record twice. Each has a unique style (or vibe) and sound, leading to some red lines being drawn among the fanbase. Some people liked the fuzzed-out/tripped out nature of Psychocandy. Others, the more accessible sheen of Darklands. Some loved the heavy gauged riffs of Barbed Wire Kisses. Automatic had a little something for all three camps.
What I think everyone could agree on was just how far upfront the drums and sequencers were compared with their other releases. The programmed bass gave the album a relentless pace and feel, as if it was daring all of us to keep up.
Automatic is a rock & roll record that tapped into what was going on around it—and the band—at the time. While I’m not entirely sure it understood the assignment, I’m positive it’s held up over the ensuing years.
Perhaps the biggest reason time has rehabbed its reputation is this: at its core, this is a (maybe the only?) JAMC record you can dance to.
Which is exactly what I was doing when that bottle flew by.
The nicest thing I can say about Kitchen’s of Distinction’s Love is Hell is that “Prize” is a great song. Really. I listened to it, like, 3 times in a row. That it took ‘til track 4 to get to it is a story for another day. I’m usually all in on dream pop, but this just didn’t anything for me. Maybe it’s a record that asks you to listen a couple of times before you get it? I dunno.
My vote: JAMC is one of my all-time favorite bands, which means Kitchens of Distinction never really had a chance. A record full of tracks like “Prize” might’ve given me a moment’s pause, but my bracket pick and vote were never really in doubt.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Kevin Sent 