Tag: pop

Sound Advice: 29.Aug.2025

by KevinLeave a Comment on 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:

Kerala Dust- An Echo of Love

TAKAAT- Is Noise, Vol. 1

Marissa Nadler- New Radiations

Pulp- More

Alien Boy- You Wanna Fade?

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?

You’re Never Alone In The Twilight Zone

by KevinLeave a Comment on 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.

📻📻📻

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…

📻📻📻

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.

📻📻📻

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.

📻📻📻

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.

📻📻📻

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:

  1. 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

A Good Thing Takes on…Godflesh

by KevinLeave a Comment on A Good Thing Takes on…Godflesh

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.

Producer David Z explains:

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 out The 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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

Was Blind Man’s Zoo the Last “Real” 10,000 Maniacs Record?

by KevinLeave a Comment on Was Blind Man’s Zoo the Last “Real” 10,000 Maniacs Record?

The Best Record of 1989: Day 52: #35 10,000 Maniacs, Blind Man’s Zoo vs. #94 Michael Penn, March

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from 10,000 Maniacs and Michael Penn

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—

I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ve always associated 10,000 Maniacs’ very specific, very literate sound with universities. And not just any university, but somewhere like Dartmouth (sorry, Hurricane fans). It’s a sound that, to me, has always felt more at home on a campus with a vibrant field hockey program than on the Billboard charts.

The short version of these earlier records is this: a bit of well-styled jangle pop coupled with Natalie Merchant’s gorgeous voice and thoughtful lyrics. That’s the upshot. The downside is that these often leave you feeling like you’re being lectured to. Merchant can come across like that neighbor who’s usually pretty cool, but will also tut-tut you for not composting enough or not having one of those “In This House We Believe…” signs1. Nice enough and well-intentioned, but it can wear thin.

Cueing this up, I wondered if I’d been remembering them in too harsh a light. After all, “These Are the Days” is a song I associate with travel and adventure, thanks to reading Jeff Greenwald’s “The Size of the World.” Maybe I’d been wrong?

The opening track, “Eat For Two,” is about teen pregnancy, so well, no. But that slick, made-for-radio formula is as delicious as I remember it.

Speaking of which, this is the last record that could be classified as janlge pop, and even here, it’s a stretch in places. This is really the jumping-off point for the more refined pop style of Our Time in Eden and everything that came after.

“Trouble Me” is a fine, if unremarkable, bit of ear candy, and I’m starting to wonder (again) if I’m being too harsh on the band. Those doubts vaporize pretty quickly with “You Happy Puppet.” Musically, it’s right up my alley. It’s polished with the sort of sunny grooves I buy in bulk.

And then I make the mistake of pulling up the lyrics, and well:

How did they teach you to be just a happy puppet dancing on a string?
How did you learn everything that comes along with slavish funnery?
Tell me something, if the world is so insane,
Is it making you sane again to let another man tug at the thread that pulls up your nodding head?

Same story with “Headstrong”…

…and “Poison in the Well”…

(sigh).

Stylistically, it is a great transitional record that does well to tie the two on either side of it together. With the benefit of hindsight, the signs are also all there that 10,000 Maniacs is increasingly becoming a Natalie Merchant backing band. Our Time In Eden would seal the deal, even if the timelines don’t match up perfectly.

A couple of songs feel like they go out of their way to be inoffensive (in the same way that same neighbor might start every criticism with something like “I feel like…”, but overall it’s not enough to sink the record. That title goes to the preachy and overbearing lyrics. Blind Man’s Zoo is a solid effort, but one best consumed in small doses.

I’ll be honest here: here’s everything I know about Michael Penn: His brother is Sean Penn (RIP Chris Penn). He’s married to Aimee Mann, and No Myth was inescapable when it came out. That’s it. He was almost a predecessor to Duncan Sheik, if you remember. All signs point to him being an artist I’d be more familiar with, but here we are.

All signs also point to him taking himself too seriously, but I don’t get that impression when I listen to the first few tracks. The ride takes us through a few folk-y ballads and a couple of up-tempo numbers. It’s all well done, but I’m not getting a particularly strong sense of FOMO here. It’s fine that I’ve waited 36(ish) years to hear this…

…and then we get to the closer, “Evenfall,” and man, talk about ending on a high note! This is a rollicking good time, with barrel piano and an ornate section that’ll have you moving in your chair. Now that’s how you close an album! Where was this in ’89?!

My vote: I have a feeling a lot of people are in the same boat as me here (10,000 Maniacs aren’t bad, have only heard the one song by Penn). I will vote mainly on name recognition and Merchant’s voice. I’m still in the bottom third of the rankings in this challenge, and the first rule of getting out of a hole is to stop digging. My bracket pick and vote will both be for Blind Man’s Zoo.

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—

Camper Van Beethoven’s Key Lime Pie Record Is the Story of a Nation Crumbling Under Reagonomics

by KevinLeave a Comment on Camper Van Beethoven’s Key Lime Pie Record Is the Story of a Nation Crumbling Under Reagonomics

The Best Record of 1989 Day 51: #30 Camper Van Beethoven, Key Lime Pie vs. #99 Ice-T, The Iceberg/Freedom of Speech… Just Watch What You Say!

I am incredibly photogenic.

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from Camper Van Beethoven and Ice-T

Growing up, one of the guys on my block lived in a house with a basement. You have to understand that this was relatively unusual in Oregon. You also need to know that it had its own entry, separate from the rest of the house, which, of course, meant it was the default place for all of us to hang out.

All well and good, except that my friend also played guitar. Yeah, that guy. We all know one. Worse, he’d often play it to impress girls on the rare occasion they stopped by. This is how I first heard Camper Van Beethoven’s cover of “Pictures of Matchstick Men.” Not a strong start, but for better or worse, this was the band for me growing up.

This record was also the sound of Camper Van Beethoven growing up—not gracefully, exactly, but white-knuckling it through the end of the 80s like the rest of us. If Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart was the band getting serious, Key Lime Pie is them getting mean; not in a cruel way, but with the kind of sardonic clarity that only comes after you’ve watched the Reaganomics tear apart the American Dream brick by brick.

By 1989, the band was peeling away their own layers. Jonathan Segel was gone. David Lowery had taken the wheel, and the group’s weirdness started to harden into something leaner and a bit darker. The violin remained, but now it ached. The jokes hadn’t vanished, but now, they came with shadows instead of a wink and a nudge. Irony no longer softened the blow; it was the hammer delivering it.

But that’s what makes this record the gem it is. Say what you will about this style shift, but Key Lime Pie is an honest, beautiful, and impossibly human album. The songs aren’t necessarily sad in the normal sense—they’re quietly devastating. It may take a few years and the benefit of hindsight to realize.

Listening feels like looking directly into the souls of people on edge, or even standing at the edge. It can be humbling, and it’s quite a counter to the demanding style of patriotism that was so in vogue.

Musically, Key Lime Pie is a masterclass in restraint. It’s still unmistakably them—strange little chord changes, unexpected melodic sidequests, and eerie violins—but it’s more grounded. Michael Urbano’s drumming is the most conventional thing on the whole record, giving the songs the structure they need. Pedal steel threads through tracks, especially on “Borderline” (my personal favorite) and “Sweethearts.”

And before I forget, the run from “Sweethearts” through “Borderline” is one of the strongest 4-track runs going.

The band sounds tighter, but not sanitized. They’ve ditched the genre-hopping of earlier albums and focused the chaos into something more purposeful. There’s Americana here, but it’s postmodern Americana.

Lyrically, Lowery is at his best here. There’s less snark, more ache. “Sweethearts” paints Ronald Reagan as a puppet for state-sponsored violence and capitalism, but it’s delivered with enough subtlety that you almost miss it.

“When I Win the Lottery” may be the best song ever written about bitterness as a survival strategy. It’s funny, but not ha-ha funny. It’s incredible line-level writing from the POV of someone like the guy at the end of your local bar; the one who’s seen some things.

The whole album walks the line between love and futility, beauty and decay, hope and despair—nihilism. This is a portrait of a broken America song by characters who’ve watched the American Dream collapse under its own weight.

It’s a record about America, sure. But more than that, it’s about people navigating what America does to you. People leaving, people drinking, people stuck in laundromats or backwater towns with only Swap Shop or gospel on the radio. People literally and figuratively stuck on the side of the road. Still, it’s the most empathetic album they ever made (we can use that, too). It doesn’t punch down; instead, it meets its characters where they are.

Despite my less-than-auspicious onramp to the band, this album has never really left my rotation. Very rarely do I play it and not find something new.

You can call it alt-rock, Americana (maybe), or whatever you want—it’s eclectic enough that pretty much anything will fit. But again, it’s just one of the most human records of the year. That sort of thing never goes out of style. It’s always relevant.

Gather ‘round, kids: It’s time to tell you the story of who Fin Tutuola used to be.

Shame that an entire generation only knows Ice-T from his portrayal of a cop on Law & Order. How odd it is to remember that the same guy now flashing a badge used to flout—and run afoul of—the law. This is, after all, a guy who was also almost arrested in Georgia for the high crime of swearing onstage. Such was the climate at the time. It’s all enough to catch a case of the vapors.

In 1989, Ice-T was still a rapper who put hot girls and guns on his covers. He sang songs about power, and how it started “with P like p***sy.” He swore. A lot.

Meanwhile, the Parents Music Resource Center was busy being busybodies and decided that someone should think of the children! Think Maude Flanders but with Congress’s ear. Ice-T made the perfect target. He rapped about all the things supposedly tearing this country apart, and he was popular.

Ice=T wasn’t about to give an inch, and if you were to condense a review of The Iceberg/Freedom of Speech…Just Watch What You Say down to a line or two, it’s that he made a whole-ass record doing just that. It was a baker’s dozen worth of tracks, and all of them were a raised middle finger to anyone with the audacity to decide what was best for anyone.

You can have your endless reruns of Law & Order SVU; I prefer this version of Ice-T.

My vote: Ice-T fought hard against Tipper Gore and co., but he’s no match for David Lowery. It’s Key Lime Pie all day for me.

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—

Hey Buddy, Come Anytime

by KevinLeave a Comment on Hey Buddy, Come Anytime

The Best Record of 1989: Day 49: #3 De La Soul, 3 Feet High and Rising vs. #126 Hoodoo Gurus, Magnum Cum Louder

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a quick look at records from De La Soul and Hoodoo Gurus

I should be mad at De La Soul—or at least annoyed. I have a particular distaste for the skits that litter so many hip-hop records, which can be traced back to the band’s 1989 record, 3 Feet High and Rising. That said, while those were often used as filler on other releases, they have a certain charm on this record. I’m still not sold on the idea, but they’re at least tolerable. If nothing else, they’re not distracting from the overall product.

Okay, so that’s the bad part out of the way. Now let’s talk about the good. We can talk about Prince Paul’s touch and how he helped sculpt this into something nothing like what we’d heard before. This and Paul’s Boutique ushered in a new era of layering samples like a collage. Now, instead of an MC and a breakbeat, we had soundscapes. Both of these records influenced countless crews that followed. Why one was a hit out of the blocks and took years to get its due is worth its own discussion.

We can talk about the stylings of Posdnous and Trugoy’s flow and the insistence on bringing concepts like peace and harmony back into the collective discussion. Maybe carve out some time to remember how fun “Me, Myself, and I” felt when it dropped. Posse cuts were de rigueur then, and “Buddy” is one of the best. All of those things are true, and each of them matters.

In our Top 100 series, Sam had this slotted in at #77.

My take then was:

Looking back through admittedly fuzzy memory, in the mid-to-late 80s, everyone I knew had three hip-hop records: Beastie Boys’ License To Ill, Run DMC’s Raising Hell, and this. Only one has a Steely Dan sample, and only one sounds as good now as it did then. “This,” of course, would be 3 Feet High and Rising. It’s the summer of love with some 808, and I’m here for it.

I still am.

I lucked my way into a group of avowed music nerds in school. Finding and sharing new (or at least new to us) music became our raison d’être. This is how Hoodoo Gurus’ Magnum Cum Louder first got onto my radar.

I don’t recall this becoming an obsession with any of us, but instead falling into the “it’s got a couple of great songs” purgatory. Those lucky few wound up circulating on mixtapes, with the rest of the tracks confined to the dustbin of history.

If you’re of a certain age, you know the deal; you bought a record on the strength of a good song over two, and hoped for the best with regard to the rest of the album. In this case, I wouldn’t have felt bad being out $8.99 or whatever the list price was, but I was also happy with just having a copy.

In Magnum Cum Louder’s case, that one good song is “Come Anytime.” About a minute in, I realized I was playing it loud and singing along at equal volume (note: If we happened to have been sharing the ordeal yesterday afternoon, I’m sorry you had to hear that).

It’s as good as ever. The hook…the sing-along chorus…all of it. It does well to set the stage for what’s to come. The next couple of tracks (“Another World,” “Axegrinder”) are also pretty good, even if they don’t quite meet that same high bar. They’re nice enough, but feel like a small step down. Get to about track six and realize it’s more of the same. It’s a nice “same,” —” Shadow Me” and “All the Way” in particular— but a same nonetheless.

Magnum Cum Louder is, of course, a play on the term Magnum cum laude, which is a fancy way of adding a “better than average” rider to a degree or diploma. It seems aspirational here, especially when stacked up against the rest of the discography.

A few tweaks here and there might’ve earned it a legit shot at that distinction.

My vote: 3 Feet High and Rising changed the game. Magnum Cum Louder barely caused a ripple in my suburban friend group. It’d be a much tougher call if we were going on the strength of “Come Anytime” alone, but we’re not.

It’s the D.A.I.S.Y. Age for the win.

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—

FTA: A Quick Look At The B52s’ ‘Cosmic Thing’ Album

by KevinLeave a Comment on FTA: A Quick Look At The B52s’ ‘Cosmic Thing’ Album

Hurry up and bring your jukebox money!

Good Morning!

As part of the Best Record of 1989 challenge, we’re taking another look at The B52’s Cosmic Thing. This originally ran in June of last year, and has only been lightly edited for today.

Tomorrow marks 35 years since The B52s released Cosmic Thing, their fifth full-length studio album1 and the first made without founding member Ricky Wilson.

After an incredible three-record run, the B-52s had carved out a place as cult favorites and the perfect soundtrack for any party—out of bounds or not. However, tragedy struck the band when Wilson passed away. The remaining members finished the fourth album but didn’t tour to promote it or really do much with it at all.

We would go to radio stations basically to beg them to play the song. Even the record company thought it was too weird. I thought it was the most accessible thing we had done.

The B52s’ Fred Schneider

The album signals a shift in the group’s style. Wilson’s death was a shock to the system. The quirky lyrics and party band mood were still there, as was the big hair. But this record pivoted to more sophisticated sounds and heavier grooves. It was met with lukewarm critical reviews and low commercial sales and is often overlooked in discussions about the band. If anything, it’s very much a record occupying a liminal space in the band’s discography and marks the boundary between Ricky’s records and the ones that came afterward.

After Wilson’s death, no one would’ve blamed the B52s for calling it quits. Indeed, they almost did. Raw with grief, the band pushed on and released 1986’s Bouncing Off the Satellites, a record that even today has never quite washed off the ash of loss it was covered in. It’s a record from a party band who felt like doing anything but.

Camp and a good time were two of their calling cards, all packaged in lovely new wave sound. Those were largely absent on Bouncing, leaving fans wondering what—if anything— was next.

Like the band, I found this record in a liminal space in my own life. In the fallout after my dad’s passing, my mom and I somehow found ourselves at K-Mart, of all places. Turns out that even in the throes of grief, you need things like potting soil. On that trip, I got a scooter and a copy of this on cassette. I don’t remember asking for either. In hindsight, I think as a recent widow, my mom just wasn’t sure what to do, and maybe throwing some gifts at it all would help. The scooter lasted a matter of months. The cassette is upstairs somewhere as I type this.

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“I lived in a house across the pond from Keith [Strickland], and I’d canoe over to his house…he played me a couple of things, and then we all got together. We said, ‘This is for us, for our healing, and this is for Ricky.’ It was kind of miraculous that we came back together.”

Kate Pierson

Flash forward 3 years, life is better, though trying to navigate high school in the late 80s was, um, something. Meanwhile, at the urging of Keith Strickland, the group decided to give it another go. You never really know what you’ll get with the B52s (this band gave us everything from ‘Private Idaho’ to ‘Quiche Lorraine,’ after all), and the tracks on Cosmic Thing were no exception. Camp and quirk were out, traded for a much more polished, full sound. New wave was swapped for pop. Much of that was down to the production combo of Niles Rodgers and Don Was, with the legendary Chic guitarist giving the record plenty of funk and Was adding touches of pop magic throughout.

Sound aside, the record also marks a departure from the band’s vocal stylings. Whereas before, they’d done a lot of call-and-response-type stuff or had either Cindy Wilson or Kate Pierson singing alone, this time, the producers had them singing together on tracks like ‘Channel Z,’ ‘Cosmic Thing,’ and ‘Deadbeat Club.’ And by together I mean so closely in tune that listeners would be excused for thinking it was one wonderful voice.

If Bouncing Off the Satellites’ sound signaled the start of the transition, Cosmic Thing represented a clean break.

The lead single, ‘Channel Z,’ with its thumping bass, is infectious and reminds one of ‘Mesopotamia.’ It was purpose-built to be a dancefloor filler. Nevertheless, it fizzled on the charts, not even breaking into the Hot 100.

The title track did a little better, quelling some fears, but it would be the third single that changed everything.

That single the band had such a hard time selling to radio stations?

It was ‘Love Shack.’

The song took its sweet time to work its way up the charts, taking 2.5 months to work all the way up to #3 on the Hot 100 before starting its reentry back to earth. But it’s also never really left the airwaves and can still be heard fairly regularly today.

If there was any question that this was a comeback record, ‘Roam’ erased those doubts. The follow-up to ‘Love Shack’ also made it all the way to the third spot in early 1990 and helped the record peak at #4.

‘Deadbeat Club’ was the last of the singles and made it to #30.  It’s also the most wistful track on the album—which, after a decade together, probably makes sense—and if forced to choose, is the one track that’s out of place here. That’s not to say it’s bad—it’s not—but it’s different. Even the best of party bands is entitled to a little reminiscence.

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35 years on, it would be easy to call Cosmic Thing a statement record, and one that marked not only the band’s comeback but their ascent into pop stardom. That’s not quite how it played out, however. Cindy Wilson left in 1990 to focus on her family. The band, now a trio, released 1992’s Good Stuff, only to be met with mediocre sales and middling reviews. Wilson would eventually return, and the band would return to the studio…8 years later. In 2006, they began work on what would become 2008’s Funhouse. It had two singles make the dance charts but is largely forgotten otherwise.

So, where does that leave Cosmic Thing in the grand scheme of things?

It most certainly is a comeback record, and it made clear in no uncertain terms that the band was back (they are literally doing a final run of shows as I write this). Perhaps more importantly, on this record, the band sounds like they’re back to enjoying themselves again.

1989 was as good of a time as any for the band to take some risk and break some new ground. Cosmic Thing is a record that is a little introspective, a bit autobiographical, and a lot of fun.

Effie, Madge, and Mabel would approve.

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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 albums by The B52s? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Thanks for being here,

Kevin—

Jungle Brothers’ ‘Done By the Forces of Nature’ takes on a force of nature

by KevinLeave a Comment on Jungle Brothers’ ‘Done By the Forces of Nature’ takes on a force of nature

The Best Record of 1989: Day 44: #90 Roy Orbison, Mystery Girl vs. #39 Jungle brothers, Done By the Forces of Nature

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Roy Orbison and Jungle Brothers

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—

Let’s talk about Jungle Brothers’ second album. Done by the Forces of Nature isn’t just their best—it’s their crowning achievement. IMO, it’s conscious rap’s finest hour.

Hyperbole? Maybe. But I’ve listened to a ton of albums over the years, and I can’t think of one this consistent from front to back—fifteen tracks, and not a single dud in the mix. No filler. No skits. No middling nonsense. Just bangers. It never gets boring. It never stalls out. It’s sonically rich and wide-ranging. Even the cover reminds me of a happier era.

Picking a pull track here is tough. If pushed, I’d go with “Sunshine” and the infectious “What U Waitin’ For?”. If you’re old enough to remember house parties, this’ll take you right back to being squished into the front room with everyone. And of course, this being made when it was, there’s a group track, featuring Q-Tip, Monie Love, Queen Latifah, and De La Soul. It’s pretty much the full roster of the Native Tongues crew just vibing.

The production is textbook; especially with regards to sampling. Sure, you’ll recognize the samples, but they’re chopped, layered, and flipped into something new. And is that a sample of Junior’s “Mama Used to Say” on “Days 2 Come?” You better believe it. Magic. This was back when producers were alchemists, not just playlist DJs with a loop pack and a laptop. The sample of People’s Choice’s “Do It Any Way You Wanna” on “What U Waitin’ For?” is (chef’s kiss). On a sidenote, this is also fuels Public Enemy’s equally fantastic “Shake Your Booty.”

Sound-wise, you’ve got a sizeable dose of funk, jazz, and—less common at the time—Afrobeat, which fits well with the album’s Afrocentric vibe. But here’s the deal: it never gets preachy or self-righteous. None of that aggressive posturing some so-called “conscious” acts fell into that just got exhausting after a few tracks. Jungle Brothers recognize that rest is resistance. It’s okay to cut loose once in a while! It’s grounded and positive in a way often missing in modern rap.

This is the record people are thinking of when they talk about conscious, alternative hip-hop. It’s the blueprint, but somehow, still underappreciated. Maybe even forgotten in some circles? I’m sure some of that is down to its (relative) unavailability, which is a shame.

If you’ve never heard it, fix that immediately (you can find it on YouTube). If you have—listen again. It’s even better than you remember.

Until now, the only track I’d heard from Roy Orbison’s Mystery Girl was the hit “You Got It,” which seemed everywhere back in the day. With his operatic voice, Orbison has always seemed out of place in the world of rock. That’s not to say his voice is not stunning, only that he’s a square peg trying to fit in a round hole. He’s unique; I’ll give him that.

Mystery Girl was a comeback record in every sense of the word. After 10 years and a run of not-so-great releases, he put out what would be one of his best records. Unfortunately, it would also be the last one recorded while he was alive. Released posthumously, it was finished just a month or so before he passed away.

At the risk of being crass, if you’re going out on a high note, this is the way to do it. I’m not all that familiar with Orbison’s body of work, but taken in isolation, Mystery Girl works. An armada of talent put this together, including (at least) Jeff Lynne, Tom Petty, and the more famous half of U2. Bono and The Edge wrote “She’s A Mystery to Me” for Orbsion, and Bono produced the song.

With a roster like this, there’s always a risk of an album coming across as disjointed, but listening, I’m surprised at how consistent it sounds. There’s no shortage of sheen here—it’s a Jeff Lynne record, after all—but it doesn’t detract from things. The horns on songs like “The Only One” give it a nice Memphis sound.

Overall, it feels like the epitome of an Orbison record. Too bad he never got to see everyone enjoying it.

My vote: Orbison went out on a high note, but Done By The Forces of Nature is a force of nature. By bracket pick and vote are going to Jungle Brothers.

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.

The Best Record of 1989: Day 40

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 40

#47 Kristy MacColl, Kite vs. #82 Gang Starr, No More Mr. Nice Guy

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Kristy MacColl and Gang Starr.

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing 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.

In case you missed any from earlier this week:

Day 36: #34 Bonnie Raitt, Nick of Time vs. #95 The Field Mice, Snowball

Day 37: #15 Madonna, Like a Prayer vs. #114 Peter Murphy, Deep

Day 38: #50 Lyle Lovett, Lyle Lovett and his Large Band vs. EPMD, Unfinished Business

Day 39: #18 Kate Bush, The Sensual World vs. #111 The Wonder Stuff, Hup

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.

KA—

I first found Kristy MacColl, as I suspect many others have, through the “Fairytales of New York” song she did with The Pogues. Today, it seems the consensus pick for favorite Christmas song among hipsters. It’s one of those songs that’s somehow everyone’s favorite, that you’re just expected to like. I find it interminable. And for a long time, I used that as an excuse not to delve any further into her work. Silly me.

Other than that, all I really knew was that she did “They Don’t Know,” a lovely bit of sugary pop that was covered by Tracey Ullman. This is a small bit of trivia that has yet to come in handy. And did you know Tracey Ullman had her own show that featured recurring interstitial animation skits about a family named The Simpsons? I’m incredibly fun at parties and Bar Mitzvahs.

Back to Kite: MacColl was the daughter of folk singer Ewan MacColl, who, by most accounts, sounds like an asshole and may be why she steered her own career toward a poppier sound. Refusing to be pigeonhole (or molded) into whatever label execs thought a pop star should be, her career floundered a bit. She found a niche performing on other people’s records (see above) while still chugging along in her own career. Kite is her sophomore outing, released 8 years after 1981’s Desperate Characters (see above again). I should tell you now that I brought every preconceived notion I had to the party. I was expecting a record that alternated between dirges and folk songs.

And holy shit was I wrong! Sure, there are strains of folk here and there, but this record is …dare I say, jaunty? Opener “Innocence” was a delight and will be on a few playlists going forward. “Mother’s Ruin” slows the tempo, but is in no way a downer. There’s a Kinks cover (“Days”)!

Maybe more importantly, while it does concede that she’s good at singing other people’s work, often at the expense of her own, it also gives her a chance to showcase her own chops. MacColl can, in fact, write a helluva song.

There’s some overproduction here and there—then husband Steve Lillywhite was behind the boards, and I wonder if he was aiming to make this as accessible as possible (i.e., hoping to help his wife find commercial success). Not every edge has to always be sanded off, you know, but after a listen or two, I’ve decided that’s a feature, not a bug. I’m obviously late to the party, but Kite has proven to be a nice surprise.

Ask five people to name their favorite Gang Starr record, and you’ll get six opinions. Odds are also good that No More Mr. Nice Guy won’t be one of ‘em. It’s not that it’s a bad record, it’s that the others are soooo good. Dj Premier and Guru have rightfully earned a spot in any GOAT discussion, but in 1989, they still weren’t on the map. 

If nothing else, this record feels ”new,” like everyone‘s still new to the game and each other. They’re all feeling each other out and finding their levels. There’s a lot of first-day energy here, right down to the lyrics that feel kinda boilerplate.

Mark the 45 King is here, and his signature sound colors a couple of tracks. On the one hand, that‘s a good thing. On the other hand, it immediately took my mind to all the different tracks he was on at the time. Gang Starr’s unique style is what made them what they are. That’ll come in time, but it isn’t fully formed here.

I’m mindful that retroactively comparing this to their later records isn’t fair. Again, this is a solid record, especially for 1989—it’s just not on the level of what was to come.

Track picks: “Gotch U,” “2 Steps Ahead”

My vote: At the risk of undercutting literally every point I made above, my vote goes to Gang Starr. RIP Guru.

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 brackethere.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

The Best Record of 1989: Day 39

by KevinLeave a Comment on The Best Record of 1989: Day 39

#18 Kate Bush, The Sensual World vs. #111 The Wonder Stuff, Hup

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Kate Bush and The Wonder Stuff

Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing 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—

Oh, to be one of the people who first found Kate Bush through Stranger Things! I love that (seemingly) an entire generation was exposed to “Running Up That Hill.” That’s tempered somewhat by my fear that it’s as far as they went. As good as it is, even “just” checking out Hounds of Love leaves a lot on the table.

Talking about that album in our Top 100 series last year, I noted:

What can I say about this record? I love that so many people have found it thanks to Stranger Things (at least, I hope they’ve gone past “Running Up That Hill”). It is an exquisite take on love, life, heartache, and death; it’s a synth record. It’s theater in the round. It’s an album with millions and millions of listens, and it feels like it was made for you and you alone. It’s got a song for the dance floor (“Running Up That Hill”), one for a quiet morning (“The Morning Fog”), and everything in between. Hounds of Love is anthemic. “The Big Sky” is over the top and as ostentatious as anything else you’ll see in this series. And I’m here for all of it.

I stand by all of that. The record is a must listen, and (IMO) should have a spot in any record collection. It’s Kate’s Pet Sounds, and in the same way that the Beach Boys were judged on everything that came after their landmark record, so too was Bush. Hounds of Love has a long shadow, and it’s easy to see why later work got lost in it.

The stylings on The Sensual World don’t exactly help. Hounds of Love is bold, anthemic pop. Its lyrics are full of dreams. Every track feels like an entire Broadway show packed into 4-5 minutes.

In other words, it’s everything The Sensual World is not. Don’t get tit Twitsed; I love this record, but it’s easy to see why someone whose onramp was the over-the-top pomp of, say, “The Big Sky” might feel put off by this record’s slower, romantic sounds. Artists have to be willing to pivot, and this feels like a record made by someone coming into their own, and less like a record sculpted by outside influences. There’s less spectacle and more intimacy (in every sense of the word). One needs only listen to the opening title track to see that.

If Hounds of Love is Bush breaking free of the cocoon, The Sensual World is her fully free and flying under her own power. This record has an elegance that we’d previously only seen sparks of. Depending on your preferences, the songs are either elegiac or affirming, and usually a bit of both. Songs like “Running Up That Hill” are a protest of male power, while this record is a celebration of female agency.

I don’t have a title in mind for “best record that came out after Pet Sounds that you should definitely listen to,” but if all you know of Bush is Hounds of Love, your next stop should be The Sensual World.

Around 1989, something strange happened. It felt like every band decided to pivot to a much more psychedelic sound—the Charlatans, Inspiral Carpets, you name it. The Wonder Stuff were no exception.

Hup, their follow-up to The Eight Legged Groove Machine, is full of swirling guitars and sounds that resemble those of other bands. If left out too long, everything blends into one blob, and the tracks become indistinct.

Luckily, the band takes care to avoid that here. While predecessor LP was sharp, quick, and to the point, Hup takes a longer route. To be clear, these are pop songs, but there’s more to them on this record. Also: Banjos and fiddles. Those aren’t usually found on an expressway.

If you‘re looking for a track with some oomph, “Them Big Oak Trees” has got you covered. It’s the standout track on the record. “Good Night Though” is a gut punch with its verse of

“Don’t play that awful song, she said
‘cause then we’ll know that the party has gone on too long.”
I said, “This stairway ain’t to heaven
This one’s to oblivion”

If anything, that should be the record’s closer and not at the halfway mark. I’m sure there’s some reason for sequencing it where they did, but I can’t see it. Makes the rest of the record feel like it was almost an after though— and it; ‘s anything but. “Gimme Some Truth” is another track worth double-clicking on.

If there’s a knock on the record, it comes in comparison to follow-up “Never Loved Elvis.” The latter is blatantly poppy and varied. You could make the argument that Hup is exactly what I described above- monotonous, similar from front to back. I’d instead argue that it ‘s focused. They knew the sound they wanted to make, went itno the studio, and came back out with exactly that.

Hup is the record that planted the band’s flag here in the States. The next LP would bring a modicum of fame, with the sublime “Caught in My Shadow” seeing some rotation on MTV and airplay. There are a handful of songs here that easily could’ve made their mark on listeners. Shame they never did. I’m guilty of using the term “underrated” like a comma when summing up records, but in this case, it fits.

My vote: Hup’s a good record, but The Sensual World is a great one. Kate Bush for the win.

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—