Four decades on, the band’s third release sounds as new as it did on Day 1.
Today we’re taking a quick look at New order’s Low Life LP as it turns 40.
If you’ve been here more than a day or two, you know my love for this band. Various people have described it as “rabid,” “partisan,” and “a lot.” I can’t argue with any of those, nor would I want to. I’m old enough to still reflexively sneer at the term “fanboy,” but when the shoe fits…
At any rate, this isn’t the first time the band has grabbed some column inches here, and it won’t be the last. Indeed, some of the first writing I ever did online (not counting shitposting in aviation forums) was on the band. Along the way, we’ve covered their underrated tracks, force-ranked each closing track of the first ten records, and twice made the case why they should be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Expect a third around this time next year.
TL; DR- I love this band and I love this record.
The Transmissions podcast (correctly) described the band as one that changed the world. Twice. I just described them as one I shamelessly love. This first ran as part of a piece I wrote for Matty C’s What AM I Making newsletter, where I talked about their first four records.
Low Life is the third of that lot, and 40 years on, it is still one of their best. To my ear, it sounds as relevant now as it did on day 1. What do you think?
KA—
I had a giant poster of this record cover for years, and I was well past the “unframed poster” age when it finally came down. It survived more moves than many other supposedly more important possessions. (and more than a few relationships, jobs, etc.). New Order—or rather their graphic designer Peter Saville—also habitually released records with beautiful covers. Every release was a marriage of sight and sound. Saville wasn’t picky, either; he was at home tapping into Bauhaus or Constructivist influences as much as he was classic art. In this case, we got the first—and to date, only— cover to feature pictures of themselves on the cover.
Low Life first hit my ears early in junior high. I’m now pushing fifty, and still play it quite often. The idea that I now have a kid the same age I was when I first found this is mind-bending and probably a story for later.
The album is tight from A1 to B4, with almost no missteps. The punchy “Love Vigilantes” kicks things off, and the listener immediately knows things will be different. First, the lyrics are a narrative (the lyrics finally tell a story! Stay for the surprise at the end!). The frantic “Sunrise” features one of Hook’s most propulsive bass lines–really, Hook’s bass playing is solid across the entire record– and the tandem of Morris & Gilbert adds a pop layer to everything.
Low Life marks the spot where the band finally decided to include singles on their records, though they were often heavily remixed. The first single was the glorious “The Perfect Kiss” (this author’s favorite song, not just on the record but of all time). The only thing wrong here is that they used the 5-minute version, not the epic 9-minute 12″ single. The record’s last track, “Face Up,” starts moody before shapeshifting into a very poppy track with Sumner practically yelling, “Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you!”
I don’t know who he was singing about, but I still don’t like them.
This is also their first record that feels like a record with an overtly intentional progression and lyrics that aren’t intentionally vague. It’s meant to be consumed in whole. Words are used to tell actual stories here–at least in a few places.
The result? A blindingly good record
As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on these records! Did I get it right, or am I way off the mark?
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.
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When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
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, we’ve got sounds from Santa Fe to the South Coast. Sounds from close to home and tracks from a Million Miles Away.
Now it’s your turn.
What caught your ear this week? Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to?
Today we’re reaching into the crate and dusting off this classic from Warren Zevon.
Maybe it’s just my timeline, but Warren Zevon seems to be having a moment on here recently. As much as I kvetched about this year’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame nominees , I was happy to see him get in via their “Musical influence” category. A side door’s still a door, right?
As a fan, I’ll put it another way. Recently I visited the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY. Walking among the plaques, I found Gil Hodges, player with the 1955 World Series champion Brooklyn Dodgers and manager for the 1969 World Series champion New York Mets. Did I think to myself, “yeah, but he made it via the Veterans’ Committee (actually, by that time, the Golden Days Committee)”? Absolutely not. I thought, “that’s right, Gil fucking Hodges, Hall of Famer.”
Zevon encountered some pitfalls along the way—some self-inflicted, many due to the vagaries of pop culture—but there’s no question he deserves a spot in the hall.
For my money, it’s an honor long overdue for the man responsible for writing the best opening line in rock history, and it’s worth taking another look at what I consider his best record.
I still wonder if I shoulda slotted it in higher up the chart.
KA—
The real question isn’t whether or not Warren Zevon is a fantastic songwriter. It’s whether or not he sees himself in the characters he writes about or whether he’s in on the joke. This record is home to his biggest hit, “Werewolves of London,” and one of the greatest songs ever (“Lawyers Guns and Money.”) The former often gets him lumped in with one-hit wonders and on Halloween playlists. Shame, really- did Bobby “Boris” Pickett name-check Trader Vics or have Fleetwood Mac’s rhythm section backing him up on “Monster Mash?” I think not.
The latter is a great example of why so many people keep coming back for more. If you ever want to write a great opening line, write out, “I went home with the waitress/ the way I always do,” and stick it to the side of your computer. Good luck. This is the sort of lyric you could base an entire novel on. Maybe that’s what Carl Hiaasen did.
The title track is field trip through any number of psychoses. “Nighttime in the Switching Yard” is Zevon’s attempt at a bit of funk, and it works well. Turns out he can get down with the best of ‘em. “Accidentally Like a Martyr” closes out the first side. I’ll be damned if I know what that means, but it does well to show his more serious, romantic side. It can’t all be wild adventures and cages with bones.
I mentioned Fleetwood Mac earlier, but the rest of the roster reads like a who’s who of the late ’70s SoCal scene; Linda Ronstadt and Jennifer Warnes sing backup on “Excitable Boy.” JD Souther makes an appearance. Waddy Wachtel is on here, because of course he is. There’s at least one Pocaro brother in the mix.
Zevon would go on to make many records after with various levels of commercial and critical success, but for my money, nothing afterward quite captures the same lightning in a bottle as this album does.
Thanks for being here,
Kevin—
Have any thoughts on this record? Do you own a copy? Where would you place it in his discography? Sound off below!
The flood of great records continues! Today we’re taking a quick look at the latest from The Tisburys, Mekons, and Silvis.
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 listening to the latest from The Tisburys, Mekons, and Silvis.
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 and put up—
In other words, a ton of good stuff is coming out, and there’s something for everyone. It’s almost overwhelming— but in all the best ways. Below is another batch that caught my attention recently.
Let’s get into it!
The Tisburys- A Still Life Revisited
There was a time—even in the recent years— when Twitter had a few redeeming qualities. Sure, you still had to wade through AI slop, Temu ads, and tech bro weirdness, but the reward was connecting with people like Tisburys frontman Tyler Asay, and in turn the band’s fantastic Exile on Main Street, a record I described as
“… an album with a seriously well-put-together sound. The tracks are well-balanced, blending Americana, Power Pop, and just the right amount of jangle.
It’s meant as a love letter to Philly, but it feels like it could mean just as much to anyone, anywhere.”
Hard to believe it’s been roughly three years since that record’s release, but here we are. And here The Tisburys are with A Still Life Revisited. The band’s sound has evolved with each release, and this latest iteration shows them hitting on all cylinders.
With it’s rollicking piano and anthemic chorus, lead single “The Anniversaries” is a bit of sonic comfort food. But before we get there, we get to first pass through fantastic tracks like “Painted Eyes” with just enough horns, and the delightful, sensible pop of “Elephant Hotel” (this writer’s favorite track on the record), before ending on a strong note with “Here Comes The Lonesome Dove.”
If Exile felt like an homage to ‘90s college rock (it did), Still Life feels like a reflection on running full speed into the wall that is adulthood. The band might be growing up, but so is their style, with more harmonies and a fuller sound. They’re also not afraid to explore new ground (see: the dancefloor-ready “Wildfire”). The guitars are brighter, and the horns are more prominent (yes, please!). Asay might be singing about time marching on, but he refuses to sound down about it.
A Mekons record in 2025? I can’t think of a more timely release. If you’re a fan of the band, it will not surprise you in the least that they’re not happy with the state of the world and have some thoughts about it. In a time of presidents floating Papacy trial balloons and measles on a comeback tour, current members Jon Langford, Sally Timms, Tom Greenhalgh, Dave Trumfio, Susie Honeyman, Rico Bell, Steve Goulding, and Lu Edmonds have gifted us an antidote. Will it surprise you to hear that the tracklist contains tiles like a “War Economy,” “Private Defense Contractor,” and “Sad and Sad and Sad?” Probably not. Nor will it shock that their particular blend of styles are on full display here. It’s leftist punk stylings with a steady beat, “War Economy” and “Mudcrawlers” in particular. Seen through her lens of historic British imperialism, it’s a record only Mekons could’ve made. The band is on tour and will return to the States starting in July. Catch ‘em if you can.
One of the things that amuses me most about living in flyover country are the chronic debates about which states count as part of the Midwest and which ones don’t. Should Ohio count? Indiana? And in what universe does Missouri make the cut?
What does this have to do with anything? Not much other than I like to spotlight Midwest bands, and Silvis is from Columbus. On their latest, A Tendency to Seek Distraction, the trio of Luke and Matt Johnson and Nick Allen delivers another dose of catchy melodic guitar pop. Opener “Do I Need It?” was featured on Monday’s playlist, and sets the tone and expectations early. This is gonna be a record full of smart hooks, smarter lyrics, and plenty of oohs and ahhs.
“This album is about the push and pull between distraction and clarity—how we sometimes run from our realities but eventually find meaning in the chaos,” says Luke, Silvis’s frontman. “We wanted to create something that feels distantly familiar, real, and emotionally resonant.”
Tracks like “Avert Your Eyes” take a bit of a harder tone with crunchier riffs, while “Who I Am” shifts toward the more gentle, but neither strays too far from the blueprint. This is a good thing. The closest RIYL line I can draw is to Saint Paul’s’ Hippo Campus. This is also a good thing.
Minnesota? Definitely in the Midwest. A Tendency to Seek Distraction? Definitely a record you should have on your radar.
Today we’re listening to “Sluttering (May 4th)” by Jawbreaker. Yes May 4th is a day for Star Wars (and Dave Brubeck!) memes, but it is also Sluttering Day— half celebration, half inside joke enjoyed by Jawbreaker fans the world over. Below is the original post from the early days of On Repeat Records. It has since become one of several annual traditions here. Enjoy!
KA—
This isn’t the first I’ve written about Jawbreaker, and it likely won’t be the last. The challenge for me isn’t picking songs by the band I want to share; it’s making sure that I don’t do it every week.
It’s pretty safe to say that everyone has at least one band that completely rearranged your mind the first time their sound met your ears. Jawbreaker is one of those for me, and in fact, I can remember excitedly picking up each of their 1st three records.
But it was also the early-mid 90s, and people were still drawing extremely Talmudic definitions of what constituted “selling out” or not. Jawbreaker happened to sign to DGC and release “Dear You” at exactly the wrong time, and the blowback was swift—and wholly unfair.
If “Sluttering” is the tale of someone being done wrong (it is), Dear You is the story of a band being turned on by its fans (also yes). For years, it was a dividing line amongst a fan base otherwise monolithic in their love for everything the band put out.
I didn’t buy this record right away. In fact, I waited some time before picking up the CD, and even then it was at a pawn shop in one of Portland’s suburbs. What a waste. The record is different from the previous three but no less excellent.
A garbage shot of the start of an amazing show. Photo by me.
In the fallout, the band split up. They reunited for 2017’s Riot Fest, and I consider that show one of the best I’ve ever been to.
And for all the thrashing and wailing about “Dear You?” The setlist had quite a few tracks off the album, and the crowd never missed a beat.
More:
“The word ‘sluttering’ means a kind of drunk muttering,” he added. “I actually defined it once as ‘pontification under duress.’ There was an angry love triangle and then an elaborate revenge plot designed to incur maximum humiliation. It succeeded horribly and I wound up in the hospital in Concord.”
The Madison band is back and sounding better than ever.
The Flavor That Kills. Photo credit: Catherine Cahoon
Good Morning!
Today we’re listening to “Spin” by Madison WI band The Flavor That Kills
Over the last few years, our journey to find new music has taken us to some odd corners of the country. We’ve made stops in places as far afield as Bellingham, Washington; Bloomington, Indiana; Athens, Georgia; and Portland, Maine.
Today, we’re heading somewhere much closer to home: Madison, Wisconsin.
A year ago (literally yesterday), I shared the story of how Madison-based band The Flavor That Kills had me wandering around in circles looking for a treasure they’d buried. A code was listed in the liner notes of their Book Of Secrits (sic) record, and I was hell-bent on finding it. That didn’t pan out–turns out I’m terrible at geocaching–but I did find a new favorite local band.
And now they’re back.
If any band is appropriate for now, it’s The Flavor That Kills. They’re chaos agents who describe their sound as a “mix of rock, soul, melody, punk, and a dash of classic psychedelic sensibilities.” In other words, it’s the perfect soundtrack to the madness we’re currently living through. I described the music as an existential threat to any roof it’s played under. Their latest single is no exception and wastes no time getting to work.
Ahead of their fourth release, they’ve added a fifth member and more synthesizers. After splitting recording sessions between America’s Dairyland and Oakland, Thunderbird Lodge will be out later this year, but for now, we’re getting a taste with “Spin.”
Talking about the single, drummer Eric Hartz noted, “We didn’t really have a complete song when we recorded Spin.” We wrote a lot of that song while we were in the studio, which was a new experience for the band.”
They could have fooled me. Spin finds the band channeling all that frenetic energy with laser-like precision and shifting into another gear.
“Spin’s” recording process might have been new territory for the band, but delivering mind-blowing sound is not. This is another one that goes to 11. Your neighbors will thank you later.
Listen:
The Flavor That Kills | Spin (single), 2025
Click the record to listen via Bandcamp.
Cover art courtesy of Shortwave Records
As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this record!
We’ve got a great host and a killer record, all set to go. All we need now is you! Here’s how to join the fun.
Good Afternoon!
Today we’re talking The Velvet Underground’s White Light/White Heat, and well, how you can talk about the band with other like minded people.
Note: As some of you know, I’m one of the editors for an online music publication called The Riff. Each month we host an album discussion (via Zoom), and this month’s is coming up on Sunday.To be clear, all credit goes to Terry Barr who facilitates the meeting, and Scott Fountain this month’s host. These two are doing the heavy lifting.
As you’ll see below, these are low-key affairs; all are welcome! If you want to share some thoughts, that’s awesome. Wanna just sit back & listen? That’s cool, too.
Either way, it’d be better with you there.
KA—
It’s that time again; it’s time for our monthly album discussion!
One of The Riff’s core tenets is sharing music. That obviously involves writing about it, but also talking about it together. We do that monthly here.
This Sunday May 4th is that day.
Below is my boilerplate explanation of these discussions and the value you’ll get from joining us. Under that are both the record being discussed and the meeting log-in details.
Don’t know the record? Doesn’t matter.
Not comfortable speaking in public? Me either. And you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Heck, you don’t even have to turn your camera on. It’s a safe space, but you control what you share.
Ultimately, you’re part of the community; we want you to be a part of this, too.
So check out the “rules” below, and then plan to dial in.
What is this?
For new readers (hi everyone!), The Riff hosts an online discussion every month.
Here’s how it works:
A writer (more on that in a second) picks a record to discuss and writes a brief piece about their choice and the meeting details.
At the meeting, they discuss why they picked it, offer a bit of a backstory/context, and whatever else they’d like to share.
Everyone else on the call can share their own “hot take,” related story, or anything else you think is relevant.
At the end of the meeting, next month’s writer volunteers (or is chosen), and the process repeats itself.
NOTE FOR INTROVERTS: If you’d prefer to sit in and listen, that is 110% okay. Keep your video off…stay muted…it’s up to you. It’s a safe place; you can participate as much/as little as you’d like.
This month’s host:
This month’s host is a star contributor to The Riff and a friend of On Repeat Records. Scott Fountainis afantastic writer, and his expertise spans many genres. You can also find him here on Substack, where he recently planted his flag. If you’re unfamiliar with his work, I highly recommend it!
Cool! So, what are we talking about?
Scott has chosen The Velvet Underground’s White Light/White Heat.
I’m not sure if critics called it proto-punk in the 1990s, but during that time, I could identify that sense of evolution between late 1950s rock and late 1970s punk. Likewise, recognizing how different forms of rock share a common lineage with rhythm and blues, jazz, and country was always (and still is) fun to consider.
While songs from White Light / White Heat may not be as upbeat and have as much drive as other proto-punk songs from the 1960s, Lou Reed’s lyrics, amongst an orchestrated sea of noise and distortion, set a bar for topical songwriting involving sex, drugs, and violence.
Musical adventure, exploring new sounds, and sharing great music with great people make these discussions a joy.
Join us and see for yourself.
Listen:
(Click the record to listen on your platform of choice)
April 2025: Sam & I bring a few of our favorite side projects to the table
Good morning!
Today Sam Colt and I are each sharing a few of our favorite side projects.
Welcome to the fourth edition 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!
This month, we’re each making a case for a few musical side projects.
In the late 80s, R.E.M. were on their way up & Warren Zevon was searching for clear air. The band (sans Michael Stipe) was Zevon’s backing band on 1987’s Sentimental Hygiene, and finished the sessions early. So they did the most logical thing possible- and a side project spurred its own side project: The Hindu Love Gods.
That’s not totally accurate—Zevon and REM had played together before, but now they had a record of mainly covers in the can…where it sat for the next few years. It saw the light of day only after Zevon’s manager used it to sweeten the deal while shopping him around for a new contract.
No one in the R.E.M. camp knew it was coming and were a bit blindsided by it all, but fences were mended, and in short order the record ran its course. From my observer’s perch, the record leaves a couple of lasting legacies. First, it gave the world a fun cover of Prince’s “Raspberry Beret.” Second, for many people my age (Gen X), this was an on-ramp to Zevon’s work outside of “Werewolves of London.”
Sam’s pick and my take: Chaz Bundick Meets The Mattson 2 – Star Stuff
I had no idea who this was or the parent bands. I’d heard of (Bundick’s stage name) Toro Y Moi, but would be hard pressed to name a single song. The Mattson 2? Absolute blank. Cueing up Star Stuff, my first impression is that it feels like the soundtrack to a good trip. The kind where you just sort of sit there and watch the walls shapeshift. It sounds like an updated version of a blacklight poster. The second track, “A Search,” feels like more of a soulful strut, albeit it one you might do while chasing your spirit animal across the Mojave, with the gentle oohs and ahhs helping fill in the blanks.
One of the things I love about side projects is when you can almost taste how unfinished they are; when it sounds like people met up simply for the sake of doing so, bouncing ideas off of one another, and seeing where the session takes ’em. No GPS giving step-by-step directions; everything’s analog. No maps, just a compass. Everything’s improv. To my ear, Star Stuff embodies that.
Electronic-S/T
About 35 years ago, there was a brief—and weird—period in the cultural zeitgeist where we collectively decided we loved us a live-action/animation hybrid. “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” was a surprise hit, and in its wake came a few, um, less popular movies. Some are best forgotten, some were formulaic, and some, like “A Cool World,” were unlike anything else out at the time. And if you were one of the 35 people in the US who happened to have seen it, you’ll likely know what I’m talking about. You were among the few lucky people to have heard Electronic’s “Disappointed” over the theater speakers.
There is a long tradition of songs from soundtracks outshining the films that they’ve appeared in. Far more people have heard Dan Hartman’s “I Can Dream About You” than remember it’s from the movie “Streets of Fire.”
“When the Night Comes” was a huge hit for Joe Cocker and has had an infinitely longer shelf life than the movie it featured in. Bonus points if you can recall the title.1
This brings us back to A Cool World. The movie might’ve been utterly forgettable (sorry!), but the soundtrack felt purpose-built for a kid like me.
In the late 80s, New Order frontman Bernard Sumner was restless. He had fallen in love with genres like Italo-disco and Acid House, and wanted to pivot the band in that direction. Internal creative conflicts were already threatening to rend the band asunder (those would all come in due time), and Sumner decided that maybe channeling all of this into a solo record might be the move…until he learned that he hated working alone…
Meanwhile, The Smiths’ Johnny Marr was in the middle of his own battles. His band was done, and by many accounts, he wasn’t trailing too far behind. He’d been biding his time as an axe man for hire but was looking for a creative outlet. He leaped when word reached him that Sumner was interested in testing the waters.
Pet Shop Boys’ Neil Tennant heard about the budding project through a Factory Records employee and decided he also wanted in.
The three quickly lined up some studio time and walked out with a newly minted single, “Getting Away With It,” which promptly became something of a hit. Of course, this meant the band had to create a full-length record.
They test drove early versions of a batch of tracks at an infamous live set. That ultimately led to their self-titled debut, two other LPs, and a compilation…and while the debut record is fantastic, “Disappointed” didn’t appear on it (or any of the band’s other original release versions). For a long time, you had to hunt for either the single or a copy of Songs from the Cool World to find it.
The side projects arising from New Order are legion, but all these years later, only Electronic had me riding my bike straight from the theater to Tower Records to try and find one of their LPs.
Sam’s pick and my take: Them Crooked Vultures – S/T
One of Sam’s superpowers is picking a band or record that makes me realize that, despite knowing the name, I’ve never heard a single song by them. The streak continues this month with Them Crooked Vultures. Like Electronic above, this is a side project and supergroup, this time featuring Josh Homme, John Paul Jones, and Dave Grohl. It took about three minutes for me to realize I’d been missing out.
Once in a while, I like a good scuzzy groove and a family-sized serving of riffs, and this record has both for days. Maybe more importantly, it doesn’t sound like anyone’s “home” band. The closest it comes is to Homme’s Queens of the Stone Age, and even that’s a short leap. It truly feels like a detour or side quest.
The Breeders- Pod
In the late 80s and early 90s, it felt like everyone was in at least a couple of bands. The lines between rosters blurred, and it all became a musical version of 6 Degrees of Separation. In many cases, you needed a scorecard to keep track at home. This was certainly the case for smaller bands and/or scenes, so it only made sense to happen at the (relatively) larger next tier.
In 1988, Throwing Muses’ Tanya Donnelly and Pixies’ Kim Deal shared a tour bill, but they also shared ideas in their downtime. Initially, they toyed with making a dance record, but ultimately thought better of it. Due to legal issues, they couldn’t share credit as principal songwriters. Deal took the credit for Pod, thinking that Donnelly would do so for whatever came next. In this case, what came next was a split,2 and Donnelly using those demos for yet another side project, Belly.
Most people are at least marginally familiar with Last Splash’s “Cannonball.” A few people will recognize “Divine Hammer.” But if pressed, I’m not sure many people could recognize “When I Was a Painter,” “Hellbound,” or “Iris.”
Pod is a messier record than the ones that came after it, and therein lies the appeal. Subsequent records have the edges sanded down somewhat, if not all the way. Pod walked so Last Splash could run.
On release, Pod was never going to escape the shadow of Pixies or even Throwing Muses, but it gave both women an outlet to do something different, to take things in a direction their main gigs wouldn’t allow. And really, isn’t that the point of a side project anyway? The Breeders—and Belly—both eventually found their rightful place in the spotlight.
Sam’s pick and my take: The Smile – Cutouts
I have to hand it to Sam; he’s gonna get me to like Radiohead or die trying, even if it means taking an angle like this. If you’ve been here a while, you know my love for the band is lacking. It’s also fair to say Sam is a massive fan. Sounds like the plot of a bad buddy cop film, but after managing to artfully dodge this record during 2024’s AOTY season, really it just means me now sitting down and intentionally trying to see what the fuss is. Short version: It’s not bad, which in this context equates to “pleasantly surprised.” “Zero Sum” even had me moving my chair a little bit. Still not my bag, but I now totally get why so many people loved this record.
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!
Kevin Sent 
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