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In Conversation: Gelli Haha
It’s time to take a rocket ride to the Gelliverse
Good morning!
We’re in for a treat today; Gelli Haha stops by to talk about her latest record Switcheroo, how it came to be, and what’s coming next.
There’s a particular kind of pop record that doesn’t wait to be invited in—it knocks down your door and dares you to keep up. Switcheroo, the debut LP from Gelli Haha (aka Angel Abaya), doesn’t waste time being performatively cool. It’s too busy being genius. Equal parts sugar rush, fever dream, and circus act, this kind of album turns overthinking into a punchline and escapism into high art.
Gelli Haha (pronounced “jelly”) has built a chaotic wonderland, aka the “Gelliverse,” where the synths are steady, beats alternate between hiccup-y and booming, and every note feels hand-drawn in crayon and glitter glue (and slightly outside the lines). Imagine your favorite dream pop band grabbing a copy of The B-52s’ Whammy! on the way to the launch pad, taking off, and crash-landing in an electroclash warehouse party in the coolest part of the galaxy.
That said, Switcheroo isn’t just wacky for wackiness’ sake. There’s a wry intelligence to it all, a real structure hiding beneath the glitz. Tracks like “Tiramisu” make you laugh…and then realize you’ve been singing along. “Spit” will remind you of all those hot, sweaty nights at the club back in the day. “Bounce House” is purpose-built for the pop charts. Seriously, why is this not climbing the Hot 100 already?! Even the deliberately juvenile “Piss Artist” glows with confidence and (per Bandcamp) revels in tequila-fueled storytelling about an infamous party moment (involving a jar — don’t ask, just dance). Fair enough! Another artist might’ve buried it as a skit. Gelli Haha put it right in the middle of the album. Meanwhile, tracks like “Dynamite” chug along at just the right pace/BPM.
The record saves the best for last. “Pluto is not a planet; it’s a restaurant” (this writer’s favorite track on the record) takes all of the above and puts it in a blender, pouring out grandiose synths, pulsing beats, and a cathedral sound that will make you feel like you’re floating untethered in space.
Maybe it’s just me, but here’s something liberating about how this album refuses to care what you think. It’s not just theatrical—it’s maximalist identity performance with zero fucks given apologies. Gelli Haha isn’t aiming for relatability; she’s too busy being a pop gremlin, and tbh, that rules. The whole project feels like a rejection of our (collective) obsession with being “real,” that’s often ripping through the usual music discourse channels. Instead, she turns her persona into a playground—and lets you run wild with it.
Switcheroo is weird, hilarious, and absolutely unhinged—and it might be the most fun I’ve had with a record all year. Listening makes joy feel like a radical act- a rare treat in the current era. Once you’re in the Gelliverse, you may never want to leave. I certainly don’t.
I recently had a chance to chat with her via email. In our wide-ranging discussion, we talked about how the concept for Switcheroo came to pass, what she hopes listeners will take away from it, and what’s coming next. Our chat has only been lightly edited for grammar and flow.
KA—
For those that might not know, can you walk us through the backstory of how this project came together?
Gelli Haha is a project born out of curiosity. I wanted to create something that was fun and moved people physically and emotionally—fun music to dance to, something mystical and enchanting, and silly. A couple of years ago, I started working with Sean Guerin of De Lux, wrote dozens of demos, and then created a live performance art world to accompany the project.
On Bandcamp, a supporter described the records as “…like Kate Bush meets Suburban Lawns, and it is pretty good!” Is that an accurate take?
It’s subjective, but I like those artists. Kate Bush was a top influence for the project. I’ve not listened to Suburban Lawns much, though. There’s more of an experimental, electronic flavor to the record as well that goes beyond these artists.
Switcheroo has been described as an “exercise in letting go, an inside joke turned theatrical spectacle.” Say more please.
In order to make the record, I had to let go of some old tendencies of mine. I can be a bit of a perfectionist and want people to take me seriously. This record sounds very free because I had to become very free to make it. We wanted the project to feel like something everyone is in on, like the audience is involved somehow. And it’s all just really goofy. When we perform, we have mini trampolines and dolphin balloons and boxing matches and snakes in a can.
Listening to the record, I can hear everything from Italodisco to the B-52s and back again. Are there any artists who had a particular influence on the sound here?
I’m a big fan of Björk, Animal Collective, of Montreal…and lots of obscure late 70s/early 80s records that Sean showed me. But I also grew up listening to pop radio and MTV, going to musicals, and being in a choir and orchestra, so there’s a lot of influence coming from everywhere.
What’s the songwriting process look like? What generally comes first, the music/beats or the lyrics?
I made about 45 demos, each a minute or so long. Sean and I picked which ones we liked the most and expanded upon them together. Vocals and lyrics followed suit. Sometimes, they came quickly, and other times, we had to search a little bit.
If you had to narrow it down, what’s one thing you hope someone will get out of listening to Switcheroo?
A laugh.
What’s next? Any shows? Touring? What’s the back half of 2025 look like?
We have some fun things in the works for later this year to be announced!
Last one, just for fun; I bump into you as you’re walking out of the record store. What records are you carrying?
Tom Tom Club by Tom Tom Club, Philharmony by Haruomi Hosono, and Oops!…I Did It Again by Britney Spears.
Listen:
Gelli Haha | Switcheroo (2025)
Click the record to listen on the platform of your choice.
Switcheroo out now. You can grab your copy here.
You can also connect with her via her Website or on Instagram.
Thank you to Gelli Haha for her time, and thank you for being here.
Kevin—
Discussion: What’re You Listening To?
Good morning and Happy Labor Day to those of you reading in the U.S.!
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 upgraded their subscriptions this past week. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help! Thank you!
When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
On to the music:
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 has again been more of a balance between new tracks and old faves, with a local favorite thrown in for good measure.
2025 might be a hot mess, but not where new music is concerned.
Other sources: Qobuz | YouTube Music
*Note I expect to add Apple Music to the menu here soon. Look for that in the next week or two.
Now it’s your turn.
What caught your ear this week? Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to?
Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!
Sound Advice: 29.Aug.2025
The flood of great records continues! Today we’re taking a quick look at the latest from Superchunk, The Cavernous, and Case Oats (and more!)
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 Superchunk, The Cavernous, Case Oats, and more!
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.
A lot of recent releases landed on my radar all at once, and I want to shine a light on them before too much more time passes. Not quite an 88 lines about 44 records kind of deal, but close. More of a clearing the decks, if you will.
Let’s get into it!
Superchunk – Sounds From the Key of Yikes
When I was a teenager, I was a holy terror behind the wheel. It was hammer down all the time from a kid who could barely see over the steering wheel. Tracks like Superchunk’s “Precision Auto” were the perfect soundtrack. Mac McCaughan had some shit to get off his chest, and I was there for it. Albums like ’93’s On the Mouth were the perfect record for where I was at the time.
Flash forward to 2025: I drive a wagon, and while I’m not quite at the stage where I call out every sign I pass, it’s close. Not being able to see very well doesn’t help.
Mac McCaughan, on the other hand, sees things perfectly. As he’s racked up the miles—er, years—his writing (and the band’s sound) has taken on a much more reflective tone. He’s still railing against a lot of the issues of the day, but there’s more perspective—the kind that can only be earned by the years (see also: Mould, Bob).
Talking about 2022’s Wild Loneliness, I noted that “Wild Loneliness finds the band in a more contemplative place. Lead singer Mac McCaughan isn’t railing so much as he’s reflecting.”
On this release, he’s somewhere in the middle.
With Jon Wurster having left and Laura Ballance no longer touring with the band, Superchunk have a real Ship of Theseus thing starting to happen. Yes, I know Ballance still plays on the records themselves, but still.
Fear not; the tone has softened, but only a little, and the band continues the trajectory started with 2018’s What a Time to Be Alive. It’s overtly political, but not annoyingly so, and when things are couched in power-pop goodness, the medicine goes down easy.
Opener “Is It Making You Feel Something” starts the record off strong with all the fizzy pop and chunky power chords we’ve come to expect. Say what you will, but for my money, guitarist Jim Wilbur is this band’s secret sauce.
“Bruised Lung” keeps things moving right along, and so do the next couple of tracks. McCaughan is optimistic, but there’s lament creeping in—almost like he’s forcing a smile as resistance. Our generation is quite good at performative nonchalance, and when he sings:
I’m trying to care less
I’m trying to care less
Don’t make me remember
What I can’t forget
I’m trying to care less, yeah
I’m not sure if he’s being serious or sardonic. Is this a political rant about the current state of play, or an updated version of Driveway to Driveway?
If you like mid-discography Superchunk, you’ll find plenty here to dig. What you see is what you get; no one’s trying to make a concept record. If you’re all in on the early stuff, you might find the edges a little too sanded off, but odds are good you’ve thought that for a while now. It’s easy to get consumed by (waves hands all around), and while fully checking out isn’t an option, trying to care less is sage advice.
I don’t know that anyone will claim this as their new favorite record by the band, but it’s got a lot of what’s helped them make it to elder statesman status, and with just the right blend of angry and sanguine, it’s the right record for right now. (Bandcamp link)
Case Oats- Last Missouri Exit
I have this daydream that I’ll retire early from my job, hit the Midwest backroads, and restart my quest for the four calendar cafe. I did this a lot in my early 20s, coming close a couple of times, but never hit the jackpot. This time around, I’d find it- just as imagined; a clean, well-lit place, populated with locals sitting in the same spots their families have for generations. Where everyone knows your name (except for me, obvs), and the coffee is strong enough to stand a spoon up in. The menus are one-sided single laminate sheets, and the aroma of the freshly baked pie is seared into the slightly cracked vinyl booths. You can see over the diner counter back into the kitchen where a radio is perched up on a shelf (antenna pointed just so), and you’ll hear something like Case Oats’ “In a Bungalow” coming through the tinny speakers. It will be exactly what I’ve been looking for, and it will be fantastic.
I never really know what I’m looking for when it comes to alt-country or Americana. As both a fan of sad dad bands and a music writer, saying I’m mostly looking for a vibe might not be the best approach, but that’s what happens. Albums in this lane either have that vibe (see above) or they don’t. Last Missouri Exit checks all the boxes. Casey Walker’s plaintive vocals feel authentic in a way that’s becoming increasingly rare. When she’s singing about life and lives lived, you feel it. Supporting her is a lot of talent, including Spencer Tweedy. It takes a lot of work to sound this unpolished, but they make light work of it.
Last Missouri Exit doesn’t stray too far from the plan here. Like those one-page menus, the tracks are simple and to the point (not derogatory). No one will describe this album as pushing boundaries—and it never tries to. This is a record that feels as lived-in as those booths. And it, too, is fantastic. (Bandcamp link)
The Cavernous – Please Hold
The (literal) pitch: It’s a lo-fi, trip-hop–leaning album accessible only by calling a North American toll-free number. The record blends ambient textures, eerie downtempo, and cryptic operator messages into something equal parts surreal and existential. Lead single “Guile” is streaming now.
Okay, so the idea that you would need to call a 1-800 number to hear a record seemed too clever by half… but also really intriguing. Sort of like taking Cindy Lee’s Geocities–only release to the next level.
In an era of hours-long hold times, sadistic phone trees, and AI chatbots, the idea of willfully calling a line to literally listen to a treatise on hold times seems like an incredible self-own. And it would be… except for one thing: the record is really good. Not even sure I can call it a record, but whatever it is, it kept me fully engaged. The lo-fi beats and loops felt comforting, like I was finally being let in on a joke, only to then be jolted back to reality by the “just a little too loud” spoken word updates that are on all the routine calls we suffer through. I have to assume those are there to ensure we don’t fall asleep, right?
There are downtempo beats and washed-out synths for days. Even the sounds like Microsoft’s hold music, which usually make me reflexively angry, only made me chuckle here.
“It started as a joke about hold music,” says frontman Rob McLaren. “Then it became a meditation on death.”
I’m not sure I can describe it any better than that. Want to experience it for yourself? Call 1-877-420-9159. It might be the only time you’ll be happy to be “on hold” for 45 minutes.
Also awesome:
Marissa Nadler- New Radiations
The Symptones-Ricardo Papaya (EP)
Various- Eccentric Modern Soul (shout out to the Wax Museum for this one!)
As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on these records! Did I get it right, or am I way off the mark?
A Few Underrated Soundtracks Worth Checking Out
Volume 8 | August 2025: Sam & I go to the movies
Good morning!
Today Sam Colt and I are each sharing a few of our favorite soundtracks…ones that might’ve been overlooked or deserve more time in the spotlight.
Welcome to the eighth 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 series last 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!
In college, I took a 200 level film course as an elective. The syllabus covered several of the usual suspects ( Citizen Kane, Cabaret), and a few I never saw coming. All well and good, and I got far more out of the class than I assumed I would going in. Turns out I didn’t know very much at all about technique and cinematography.
But what I do know is records. And what really stuck with me were the soundtracks and film scores from each of the films. The way sound sets up & supports a scene is something I tend to focus on a lot. Case in point; if asked, I could maybe give you a rough outline of Cabaret’s plot. Ask me to sing a few bars of Willkommen, and we’re in luck.
And then there are soundtracks. To Live and Die In LA is a fun movie (and one of my faves), but it’d be nothing without it’s soundtrack. If you’re Gen X, Singles is iconic; but again, its the music that takes a good movie and makes it great. And that doesn’t even touch on all the John Hughes movies, and the soundtracks they gifted us. Don’t You Forget About Me? We couldn’t even if we wanted to.
This month, Sam and I are sharing a few picks that for whatever reason might’ve been overlooked. Some far outshined the movies they’re attached to, others might’ve been lost to time. Either way, we think they warrant a second chance.
Grab your popcorn, turn your phone off, and enjoy!
When you’re done here, remember to check out Sam’s take at This Is a Newsletter!
Let’s get to it!
KA—
Various Artists- The Saint
My first roommate was a huge fan of Val Kilmer—we’d call him a “stan” today, but back in the mid-90s this just meant watching whatever film he happened to be in, sometimes more than once (okay, like a lot more than once). I also happened to really like the original TV show, so when The Saint came out it was pretty much a lock that I’d be there to see it. The movie is… okay. I mean, Kilmer’s good and Elizabeth Shue costarred, but no one does Simon Templar the way Roger Moore does. This is another case where the soundtrack outshines the film it’s supposed to be supporting.
The record overindexes on EDM, with tracks from Moby, Daft Punk, The Chemical Brothers, and more. Orbital does a bang-up job reworking the original theme. You can also find Sneaker Pimps’ “6 Underground” here, a track that is far and away the biggest hit of the lot. Duncan Sheik’s here as well, and his “In the Absence of the Sun” proves there’s more to him than just “Barely Breathing.” Like any Music From the Motion Picture, there’s bound to be some filler, and a couple of tracks here are less than stellar (looking at you, Duran Duran)—but in their defense, they at least fit the vibe of the film. That said, this works much better as a record per se than as part of the movie.
The whole thing screams “90s sound,” but when it’s packed with bangers from start to finish, who cares?
Sam’s pick and my take: Various Artists- Baby Driver
Sam shared his picks first, and seeing this made me say “f**k!” at my screen. Not because I was mad at him; rather, I was mad at myself for not having thought of this one. This soundtrack is one of my faves. I mean, it starts with the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and just heats up from there. Jonathan Richman, The Damned, and Martha & The Vandellas? All in one place? Are you kidding me?! Yes please. I just wish I’d grabbed it first.
(punches air)
Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross: Challengers (Original Score)
One of the things about being a parent they don’t tell you is the weird side quests you’ll find yourself on. I have no idea how tennis is played. I mean, I get the general idea, but no clue on the scoring or terminology. My player trajectory consists of a few lackadaisical games played over beers at my first apartment. But there I was last week, watching my son’s girlfriend play in a high school match. I was a little lost, but it was a great night and I’m glad we went.
Likewise, I have no idea when Trent Reznor moved into soundtrack work, but I’m glad he did.
My Nine Inch Nails trajectory starts and peaks at the same spot—the beginning. Pretty Hate Machine is a masterpiece, and Reznor set the bar impossibly high. The rest of their discography ranges from “1–2 killer tracks, but I’ll pass on the rest” to “I didn’t listen to it.” YMMV.
So I was a little surprised when I saw him starting to work with artists like Fever Ray on their Radical Romantics record. I also have no idea when the duo moved into the soundtrack realm, but I’m glad they did. Challengers is a tennis movie—at least nominally. I can’t comment on the film, ’cause I haven’t seen it. But I’d like to think the soundtrack at least follows the plot arc—beginning, peak, denouement. Sure sounds like it does, anyway.
What I liked best about Pretty Hate Machine is what I like best about Challengers—the tracks sound like they belong more on a dance floor than in a dungeon. It’s unmistakably Reznor and Ross, but these are tunes that make you want to move as opposed to evoking images of an angle grinder or whatever fever dream Fever Ray is having.
Sam’s pick and my take: Master of None
I’d never heard of this show (if this sounds like a recurrent theme, trust your gut) before Sam suggested this soundtrack. Pulling it up on the platform we all love to hate, I was surprised to see it had over 7,500 saves… and then I looked at the songs themselves. Joy Division? You know I’m already sold. New Edition… Lou Reed… The Cure… it just keeps going.
I’m mindful this is an extremely narcissistic take, but this is the sort of list that feels like it was made just for me. Should I be watching this? Wouldn’t be the first time I watched a show for the music. If you’re a fan, weigh in below—I’m curious to hear your thoughts.
Various Artists- The Wild Life
Oh hey, an ’80s movie with Lea Thompson and Eric Stoltz? That’s interesting news (rolls eyes). Actually, this is a movie best forgotten. It’s also got a Penn and a Quaid (as in Chris and Randy). So yeah…
But we’re not here to talk about the film, we’re here to talk about the soundtrack. And if ever there were a case of the soundtrack outshining and outlasting the film, this is it, and follows the lead of Streets of Fire (which came out a few months earlier).
The Wild Life is from the same finishing school that gave us such Oscar contenders as Hot Dog…The Movie, and Zapped—mildly tawdry, some action scenes, a couple of A (or B) list talent, and a thin veneer of a plotline to ostensibly tie it all together. Yeah, sure.
In the same way that The Saint embodies late ’90s EDM, The Wild Life’s roster is a snapshot of the mid-’80s; but here’s the twist: with the exception of Bananarama (the title track) and Eddie Van Halen, these aren’t people you’d usually associate with the big screen. In ’84, Andy Summers was still doing big things with The Police, not solo work. Ditto Peter Case, who might be known more for tracks like this from his time in The Plimsouls—or this one later covered by Blondie.
The Paisley Underground is well represented here (speaking of things that don’t get enough due). In addition to Case, The Three O’Clock are here as well. And there’s a Go-Go track, because why not? (Spoiler: it’s not Belinda Carlisle or Jane Wiedlin.)
Sam’s pick and my take: Various Artists- Pulp Fiction
If you ever want to see how old someone is, play a few bars of Stealers Wheel’s “Stuck in the Middle With You,” and see what happens. If they reflexively start dancing like Mr. Blonde in Reservoir Dogs, that’s a tell. Same story with playing Naughty by Nature’s “Hip Hop Hurray” (waves arms). And if you’re of a certain age, you know how this trifecta rounds out: play a few bars of Chuck Berry’s “Never Can Tell” and see what moves are busted.
In the streaming era, we can have everything, anywhere, all at once. On one hand, that’s phenomenal. But by design, that also means audiences are irreparably atomized. Appointment viewing is something your parents carry on wistfully about as they scroll Facebook looking at style memes (and using their index fingers to do it).
A lot of people have seen Pulp Fiction, but not nearly enough. It would be disingenuous to call the film underrated. It is absolutely appropriate to describe the soundtrack that way. Say what you will about Quentin Tarantino’s style, but he knows what he wants out of a film and knows who to tap to get it—in this case, Karyn Rachtman, who did both Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction (and worked on Reality Bites at the same time). Whether she uses Dick Dale’s “Misirlou” or knows just when to work in a Maria McKee song, Rachtman is masterful at soundtracking his vision—and we’re all the better because of it.
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!
Thanks for being here,
Kevin—
Discussion: What’re You Listening To?
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 upgraded their subscriptions this past week. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help! Thank you!
When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
On to the music:
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 has been more of a balance between new tracks and old faves. That said, a TON of great new records came out this past Friday, so who knows what next week’ll look like?
2025 might be a hot mess, but not where new music is concerned.
Other sources: Qobuz | YouTube Music
Now it’s your turn.
What caught your ear this week? Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to?
Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!
Announcement: An Album of the Month Event You Should Check Out
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.
Cover art courtesy of IRS Records
Good Morning!
Today we’re talking about The English Beat’s Special beat Service, 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), which is coming up on Sunday.
To be clear, all credit goes to Terry Barr and Scott Fountain, who facilitate the meetings, and Jessica Lee McMillan, this month’s host. These three 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 our core tenets is sharing music. That obviously involves writing about it, but also talking about it together. We do that monthly here.
This Sunday, August 24th, 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 login 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!), we host 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, the 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 Jessica Lee McMillan, a poet, writer, and teacher based in Vancouver, B.C. Her work has been featured in dozens of publications. You can see more of her writing here or on her website.
Cool! So, what are we talking about?
Jessica has chosen ‘Special Beat Service’ by The English Beat..
From her article explaining her pick:
I am still grateful for the third wave, which brought The Specials back into rotation at clubs. I was only a few years old when the Beat emerged, and I had records and cassettes of General Public and Fine Young Cannibals. But I have to thank that third wave for making its way into the goth community here in Vancouver, where — of all places — I first learned to skank to Madness in my late teens.
Musical influences can travel anywhere — like language — and while we want to respect its origins, genre — like language — is a living thing that evolves and migrates.
Special Beat Service is the album you intentionally pull out several times a year. It is a rock. It is a place to return.
That’s why I have chosen it for the album of the month.
Musical adventure, exploring new sounds, and sharing great music with great people make these discussions a joy.
Join us and see for yourself.
Listen:
The Beat | Special Beat Service (1982)
(Click the record to listen on your platform of choice)
I’m in! How can I join?
Here ya go:
When: Sunday, August 24th: 4 PM Eastern/ 8 PM GMT
Where: Join Zoom Meeting
Thanks for being here (and there!),
Kevin—
You’re Never Alone In The Twilight Zone
From the archive: A quick look at Pere Ubu’s groundbreaking Cloudland album.
Good Morning!
Today as Round 1 of the Best Record of 1989 tourney wraps up, we’re taking a quick look at Pere Ubu’s Cloudland. This was originally published in May of last year to mark the record turning 35.
Most record collectors have a holy grail: the one record they hope to find above all others. For years, mine was Pere Ubu’s 1989 album, Cloudland.
I’d first found the record not too long after it came out. In the late 80s, CDs were still a novelty, but someone at our city library decided to go “all in” on them (thank you, whoever you are). It was delightfully eclectic as a place trying to be something for everyone. You truly never knew what you might find and rarely came out with exactly what you’d gone in looking for.
They’d put a lot of effort into procuring them but not nearly as much into keeping them organized, settling instead for a brittle system of roughly sorting by genre and hoping for the best. It was all a wonderful mess purpose-built for happy accidents.
One of those collisions was my onramp to the band.
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I would ride my bike there (Haro freestyle, thankyouverymuch) and spend hours flipping through the titles, picking not just names I knew but ones that looked, well, interesting. I’m sure there was an official limit on how many titles you could have checked out at once, but I usually defaulted to about 7-8, as that’s how many could fit in those heavy-duty plastic bags they gave you.
It was always easy to check this CD out. As much as I’d like to frame myself as some sort of tastemaker or just ahead of my time, the reality was that word traveled slowly from Cleveland. And the people who may have known them from work like “30 Seconds Over Tokyo” or their Dub Housing record were probably not hanging out in suburban Portland libraries.
This record has proven hard to find in subsequent years for a bunch of reasons. If I’m honest, had I known how many years I’d ultimately spend looking for this record, I might’ve just kept it, said I lost it and paid the fine. Nevertheless…
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It’s reductive to call the band avant-garde, but the band has done more to define the genre than most. Their sound combined elements of kraut rock, art, flurries of guitar, and frontman Dave Thomas’ odd yelps and yowls. Thomas’s vocals also ricochet between spoken word, a warbling, and actual singing, and the result is a mix of what we recognize as the structure of normal songs and wild sonic field trips. Along the way, Pere Ubu has created a sound that is often dissonant but always original.
You don’t listen to a Pere Ubu record; you experience it.
In 1987, after a several-year hiatus, the band reformed with what would be one of a bazillion lineup iterations and released The Tenement Year—a record with one foot firmly in the traditional realm of the band’s anarchic sound and the other edging toward a more palatable—if not quite radio-friendly—world.
If The Tenement Year represented dipping a toe into the world of Pop, Cloudland was a cannonball into the deep end of the pool. Stephen Hague (Pet Shop Boys, New Order, among others) was behind the boards and took everything the band had done to that point and proudly ignored it. Gone were the usual weapons-grade chaos, tangents, and noise. Instead, he helped corral the band’s usual wanderings into something much more cohesive and melodious. Experimentation was out, and flirting with formulas was in.
In other words, Hague helped Pere Ubu make something no one saw coming—a bona fide pop record.
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There are plenty of high water marks here. Through any other lens, “Race the Sun” and “Ice Cream Truck” would be boilerplate tracks, but Pere Ubu is nothing if not subversive, and the band puts their own odd magical touch on them almost in spite of themselves.
“Waiting For Mary” is the closest they’ve come yet to a hit, cracking the Modern Rock Tracks top 10. “Bus Called Happiness” is arguably the most pop song the band has ever—or will ever—create. It’s also this writer’s favorite and drove much of the multi-year quest to hunt this record down.
That’s not to say Hague finished the job. If Side A is as radio-friendly as it gets (certainly college radio, anyway), Side B assures fans that not all has been forgotten. There are plenty of odd loops and experimentation here on tracks like “Nevada” and “Monday Night,” maintaining a line to the rest of the band’s catalog.
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I wasn’t looking for Cloudland when I walked into my local record shop a couple of years ago—in fact, I rarely know what I’m looking for when I go in. And even when I do, I usually either toss that list, come up with something totally different, or both.
But the universe has a funny way of gifting you things when you least expect them. In much the same accidental way I came across their CD all those many years ago, I came across a vinyl copy, misfiled under the wrong letter.
Again, Pere Ubu can be an acquired taste. A friend and I saw them open for Pixies not too long after this came out. Going in, I’d bet we were 2 of only a handful of people eager to see them. Post-show, I doubt that number went up much. Their records can be hard to find, and even if/when you do, they are often inaccessible and occasionally unlistenable. The release was out of print forever, and a reissue appears to be missing a couple of tracks—even trying to find listening links for this article has proven to be a challenge.
But when they’re on, they’re on, and with Cloudland, Pere Ubu made a masterpiece.
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What are your thoughts on this record? Do you have any favorite tracks or memories associated with it? Where does it land on your list of Pere Ubu albums? Share your thoughts in the comments!
Thanks for being here,
Kevin—
Some light housekeeping:
- Save the date! The date for this month’s Album of the Month Discussion will be on Sunday, the 24th, at 4 PM Eastern. This month’s discussion will be led by Vancouver-based Jessica Lee McMillan, whose previous presentation on Stereolab’s Dots and Loops was one for the ages. This time around, we’ll discuss Special Beat Service by The English Beat. These are always fun, but will be better with you there!
Meeting Details:When: Sunday 24 Aug 2025 ⋅ 4pm — 6pm EST
Zoom Meeting Link:.
https://presby-edu.zoom.us/j/85339128617?pwd=MDfb510FCFXCayaFPNtatnLiUdEsey.1&jst=2
The Best Record of 1989, Day 62: #54 The Pogues, Peace and Love vs. #75 Nomeansno, Wrong
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a quick look at records from The Pogues and Nomeansno
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—
The Pogues, Peace and Love
By the time Peace and Love dropped in the summer of 1989, the end of The Pogues was near. This was the moment the Pogues started to fall apart—and not in the sexy, myth-making way we like watching on rock docs. It was more like the ugly slow-motion collapse that happens in real life.
Everyone knew it was coming, but me. I wouldn’t find the band for a couple more years.
On a stereotypical dreary fall night in the midwestern college town where I live, a friend dragged me out for a night on the town. We’re gonna end up at a house party, he promised. The kind that you hear about from a friend of a friend whose buddy might know someone who actually lived there. This was an era of my life best described as “good music and bad decisions,” so of course I said yes. The night was as promised. To this day, I’ve never found a stronger Long Island than those served at Amy’s Cafe in Madison, WI. If you know of one, let me know. Actually, maybe you shouldn’t. Lol.
At any rate, we wind up at this house where a cover band is playing. I don’t know it yet, but they’re ripping through covers of The Pogues. I mean, tear the roof off the place, good. Of course, we’re a long way from the internet, and Shazam was still a cartoon character (or the name of an ATM if you’re from Iowa), so I finally had to ask. I was also the last person to hear about the band (The Kissers) and who they were covering. This could have gone all kinds of wrong, but the girl I asked was all too excited to tell me all about both. The next day, I went to Borders (RIP) and grabbed a copy of their Waiting For Herb record.
But before all of that, there was peace and Love. The record was their fourth, and (with hindsight) the one where the wheels start coming off. You could hear it in Shane MacGowan’s voice, which had gone from a cute, kinda feral to ghostly mumbling through a megaphone. It was the sound of a man’s liver and central nervous system teaming up to sabotage his own genius. You could hear it in the songs, too.
And yet—and yet—somehow, Peace and Love isn’t the disaster it probably should be. Even with all of that as a backdrop, it holds up better than many post-peak albums from great bands. Shane might’ve been fading, but the rest of the band came out swinging. “Young Ned of the Hill” and “Gartloney Rats,” both feel brand new and 200 years old (not derogatory). Philip Chevron gave us “Lorelei,” which aches in all the right places and blends melodrama with power pop without falling apart at the seams. If nothing else, you can say this: Peace and Love was from a band that still had something left to say—if not to prove.
Musically, they pushed the envelope just enough. A surprisingly jazzy, noirish thing is happening on “Gridlock,” there’s some rockabilly, and even (check notes) calypso? It’s messy, sure, but it’s a good messy. The messy that only happens when a band still gives a f**k—even if their lead singer’s interests are elsewhere.
Peace and Love isn’t Rum, Sodomy & the Lash or If I Should Fall from Grace with God. It’s not even Waiting for Herb (my fave). It may not be their finest hour. But it is the moment when the rest of the Pogues stood up, picked up the slack, and kept the thing going, if only for a bit longer.
NoMeansno, Wrong
We ended last week with a trip to Canada, and kicked this week off with some Fugazi. So it only seems fitting that we’d wind up here with a band that reminds one of a Canadian version of the band. Wrong is a wild ride through some unhinged riffs, drum beats that make no sense on paper, and choruses that range from “pop punk” to “screamed at you.” The ingredients make for a tasty mix, albeit one that’s an acquired taste.
My vote: I banked on a dollop of name recognition and a dash of sentimental value, and voted for The Pogues.
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!
Check out the full bracket here.
Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.
As always, thanks for being here.
KA—
Some Records Change Your Life. This Band Changed the Way I Live.
The Best Record of 1989, Day 61: #11 Fugazi, 13 Songs vs. #118 Paul McCartney, Flowers in the Dirt.
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Fugazi and Paul McCartney
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.
Note: Today’s piece on Fugazi draws heavily from this one I wrote as part of our Top 100 Records series from last year. That article specifically discussed the Repeater LP, but if anything, my feeling for the band itself has only grown in the months since.
KA—
Fugazi, 13 Songs
Some records change your life, but rarely does a band come along that changes the way you live. Fugazi did both. In an era when selling out was still a four-letter word, the band did what they did best: they lived their lives on their terms. They could make a compelling case for why you should be on their team, but if you weren’t, that was okay, too. It was a big tent, and their live-and-let-live mindset was a far cry from the straight-edge kids who had teased those threads to their extreme and spent shows looking for drinks to knock out of people’s hands.
Speaking of those shows, the band capped admission at $5 and insisted they be all-ages. I imagine that eventually paid off in the form of increased record sales, but they left a lot of money on the table then. Same with shying away from selling merch and staying on their homegrown Dischord label. Respect and street cred are all well and good, but they don’t pay the rent. But here’s the thing: that DIY ethic wasn’t just a gimmick for Fugazi; it was everything. When one of your songs has a chorus that screams, “You are not what you own,” selling t-shirts becomes a little tricky.
The band held themselves to a high ethical standard, and none of it would’ve mattered if the music wasn’t any good.
But about that record…
Before the postcards from Pedantry Place start filling my mailbox, yes, I know 13 Songs is technically the combo of Fugazi’s self-titled and Margin Walker EPs. So does almost everyone else reading this. You should also know that Margin Walker itself barely missed the cut to be in the tourney. A tourney that somehow has Godflesh and Cardiacs. In other words, I’m just happy this one’s here. No Fugazi would’ve been a real injustice.
At any rate, the short version is this: before they’d even released an LP proper (the incredible Repeater), they had already made a statement record (or two, really) that were then combined to make this, kicking off a decade-plus run of statement records and declarative statements.
If you know nothing else about this band, you likely know the bassline/intro to “Waiting Room.” By this point, it’s been in everything from viral clips of kids covering it at bandcamp to Metallica briefly playing it on stage during one of the “jamming” sessions they do at every show.
The record is also home to “Bulldog Front” and “Promises,” both blistering, both taking aim at something and taking no prisoners. Perhaps more than anything, Fugzai is best at demolishing someone or something (shitty friends, sexism, rampant consumerism), and doing it to one of the funkiest beats to NOT come from an 808.
It’s also worth mentioning that, as iconic as the “Waiting Room” bass line is, it’s not the only one of note here; “Bad Mouth” is another one. The chunky riffs on Margin Walker are infectious.
Who else but this band could get us to sing along to lines like:
Untraceable, untranslatable
I can’t explain all I ever wanted to do
Trajectory passing right through me
Threads my needle sends it right to you.
They can be preachy, sure, but it’s all for a good cause, and all set to a great sound. The music is softer than that of predecessor bands like Rites of Spring and Minor Threat, but if anything, the message is stronger. And it’s important to note that none of these records were promoted as usual- no merch, no guest hosting on 120 Minutes, etc. The entire thing was built on word of mouth, flyers on telephone poles, and blistering shows for the unheard of (even then) price of $5. This felt subversive in 1989. In 2025, it feels downright revolutionary. And in a lot of ways, it was.
On paper, Fugazi is still a band. In reality, they’ve been on hiatus for over twenty years now. Occasionally, a rumor pops up that they’ve again left money on the table by refusing to reunite to play a festival. Sometimes, there are even whispers that they’re getting back together. But nothing has come of it yet, and most of it is just white noise and/or wishful thinking.
Again, I’m going off memory, but I also recall the shows being played with just regular lights. Other than them coming up and going down, nothing changed throughout the setlist- no color, no nothing. The spotlight was on the music itself. Fugazi wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Paul McCartney, Flowers in the Dirt
My grandmother liked to go to the movies, and we had an informal deal; sometimes I got to pick, and sometimes she did. That s how we ended up seeing Breakin’2 in the theaters, but also how we wound up enduring “Give My Regards to Broadstreet,” whose soundtrack was, well, not well regarded. It gave us one “okay” hit (“No More Lonely Nights” and the rest of the film is probably best left forgotten. This is a long way of saying that the 80s were not McCartney’s best era.
Like a kid doing a great final project to salvage a grade after a term of sleeping through class, Flowers in the Dirt was a good—not great—record to end the decade. I don’t know if I’d consider it a comeback per se, but it’s close enough.
The most notable thing here is the collaboration with Elvis Costello. The two worked side by side in the studio, with some tracks ending up here and some going to Costello’s records (including “Veronica”). This pairing works better than I would ‘ve thought. I get that both are from Liverpool, travel in similar musical circles, etc. I guess I didn’t expect them to click the way they did. To me, Costello has always had just the right amount of cynicism, while McCartney has seemed sunny to a fault (I realize this doesn’t necessarily reflect reality, only my interpretations of their respective catalogs). In 2017, the record was re-released as a ‘special edition,’ and those bonus tracks/demos/outtakes are even better than the original. That doesn’t happen too often.
My vote: Shame that McCartney is up against one of my favorite records of all time here. Flowers in the Dirt was far more enjoyable than I’d expected—enough so that I did a quick search to see if any copies were “priced to move” on Discogs. The winner here also (I think?) will have a relatively easy next match, facing either The Pogues or Nomeansno in Round 2. That said, there are countless people whose lives were changed by The Beatles. Fugazi changed mine, and that’s who’ll be getting my vote today.
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!
Check out the full bracket here.
Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.
As always, thanks for being here.
KA—
Kevin Sent 