Tag: review

Sound Advice: 18.Sept.2025

by KevinLeave a Comment on Sound Advice: 18.Sept.2025

The flood of great records continues! Today we’re taking a quick look at the latest from BRNDA, Grant Pavol, Water From Your Eyes, and Die Spitz.

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 BRNDA, Die Spitz, and more!

The boilerplate intro:

Every year, I celebrate all the great music we’ve been gifted while worrying that next year will see the other shoe drop. I first did that in December 2020 and have been proven wrong every month since. Not only are there a ton of releases steadily coming out, but it also transcends genre or any other artificial guardrail we try 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!

BRNDA – Total Pain

Emerging from the D.C. music scene sometime around 2011 or 2012, BRNDA has spent over a decade honing a sound that blends post-punk urgency, twee charm, and occasional nervous energy into something uniquely their own. Their latest record, Total Pain, balances moments of melancholy with bursts of off-kilter humor, producing a listening experience that feels both optimistic and restless.

From the opening moments of Peach Pit, Leah Gage, Dave Lesser, Mark McInermey, and Nick Stavely set a tone reminiscent of Dry Cleaning, pairing post-punk guitars with a detached vocal delivery. Lyrically, the album is sharp, sardonic, and often self-aware. I mean, with lines like “And again and again and again and again and you’re really not making any new friends” and “And you spend and you spend and pretend and pretend that they care that you’re reading August Wilson’s Fences,” what else can you say?

Tracks like Books Are Bad showcase a strolling bass line and vocal stylings that might evoke Chris Frantz for listeners of a certain age, while Burn the Zoo continues the album’s rambling, improvisational mood. MT Eyes offers a lighter, twee-infused interlude, recalling the charm of Tullycraft, while Everyone Chicago hits with angular riffs, urgent energy, and—yes—a flute, adding an unexpected flourish I absolutely did not have on my bingo card.

Go for Gold leans into playful absurdity with squeaks, squonks, and nonsensical lyrics like “Who’s gonna break the code? Do your knuckle worst / Breakfast of mushroom champions eat first / Who’s gonna cut my carbon? Who’s gonna cut my steak?” Yet beneath the humor, the album is suffused with subtle sadness. As the band notes, “We didn’t need to call the album Total Pain… but pain infuses the album.”

The record’s energy bounces between nervous, melodic post-punk and playful experimentation. Parquet Courts comparisons aren’t far off, but BRNDA distinguishes itself by taking turns on vocals that shine brightest when Leah Gage takes the lead, particularly on tracks like Cool Night. Themes of life’s anxieties, domestic chaos, and paranoia weave throughout, creating a record that to my ear feels both intimate and unhinged. Apropos of nothing, I read in an interview that Gage and Lesser are parents of a toddler. Having been there/done that, the frazzled mindset of this record makes sense.

Standout moments like Blenderman exemplify this duality: the repeated line “I could (feelin’ lucky) win or time could beat me / I could (feelin’ lucky) win” captures hope tempered by existential uncertainty. The album closes with the delicious chaos of My Mother, a tense, slightly bonkers meditation on the modern family.

For fans of Sweeping Promises, Dry Cleaning, and Cola. Bandcamp also suggested Gaadge, which, to be honest, isn’t a bad call, either. (Bandcamp link)

Grant Pavol- Save Some Time (EP)

A little bit Krautrock, a little bit Yo La Tengo, with a dusting of twang across the top. This EP is enjoyable from start to finish. Save Some Time is a record Pavol describes as “an adult reassessment of youthful insecurity, carrying the weight of big emotions with a steady hand.” It’s also described as a bit like the Velvet Underground at their most Cale-Forward, which is fair. (Bandcamp link)

Die Spitz- Something to Consume

One thing you should know about me is that I’m a grammar nerd. Words matter. Definitions matter. And I suppose whether or not you consider a record an EP matters where you draw the line. Is it at four tracks? 6? I mention this because everything I’ve seen online refers to this record as the band’s debut. That might make for easy copy, but it ignores 2022 EP The Revenge of Evangeline and 2023’s 7-song release, Teeth.

Okay, rant over.

My elevator pitch for this Austin-based quartet has always been simple: Die Spitz is the Gen Z equivalent of L7. To be clear, that’s meant as high praise. They’re fast, loud, and have something to say— and exactly zero Fs to give. Ava Schrobilgen, Chloe De St. Aubin, Eleanor Livingston, and Kate Halter also happen to be talented musicians. 2023’s record was centered around “Hair of Dog,” one of my favorite tracks of the year, and the EP quickly found its way onto my Best of 2023 list. It set the stage for Something to Consume. Almost a rough draft, if you will. That’s not to say that this record has the edges sanded off- it absolutely doesn’t- but it’s clear that the group has worked to evolve from those early beginnings.

The first notes of opener “Pop Punk Anthem (Sorry For The Delay)” tell listeners in no uncertain terms that this ride is different. It’s almost radio-friendly. Almost. Ditto follow-up “Voir Dire.” If you have a hard rock station in your local market, don’t be surprised to hear the latter on the air at some point. Any concerns that the band might’ve lost its edge (whatever that means) are erased with “Throw Yourself to the Sword” and its piledriver riff. “Sound to No One” balances heaviness with ethereal vocals. “RIDING WITH MY GIRLS” is all gas and no brakes and purpose-built for getting the pit going.

Like L7 before them, Die Spitz’s sound is fueled by rage at the injustice(s) around them. The targets may have changed, the ferocity has not. In an era where terms like “punk” are co-opted into aesthetics, Die Spitz makes it all refreshingly honest again. The album takes the best parts of Teeth and levels up. In a word? Something to Comsume is extraordinary. (Bandcamp link)

Water From Your Eyes- It’s a Beautiful Place

Water From Your Eyes has been bending guitars into shapes you wouldn’t think possible for nearly a decade. The Brooklyn-by-way-of-Chicago duo of Rachel Brown and Nate Amos has built a catalog where the instrument is less an anchor and more a medium. Their live shows are notorious for stretching the songs until they blur into the unrecognizable. I suppose that’s fitting; this band thrives on the idea that the analog and digital worlds don’t need to agree—they just need to collide.

It’s a Beautiful Place opens with “One Small Step,” a blurry half-minute prelude that quickly gives way to “Life Signs,” and we’re off to the races. The song staggers and surges, with all kinds of time signatures

“Nights In Armor” charges further onward with a killer groove, Brown’s voice slicing through the circular bassline with a line that doubles as both invitation and dare: “I just want to fight you ’cause I’m tired.” It’s disarmingly simple, yet lands hard. Then comes “Born 2,” a warped cousin of a Weezer anthem fed through a psychedelic filter. Amos’s guitar churns in heavy downstrokes while Brown hovers just above accessibility.

The interludes scattered across the record serve as a chance to catch your breath and get your bearings.

“Spaceship” takes a break from gravity and order, the guitars dissolving into backward swells and percussion that lands like meteors. Next up is “Playing Classics,” a highlight built on club-ready synths and a deadpan vocal. It’s funny, strange, and incredibly addictive. If you’re in the market for an earrowm, start here.

Elsewhere, “Blood on the Dollar” trades distortion for restraint, Amos’s country-tinged guitar floating beneath Brown’s more reflective delivery. But even here, the band resists simplicity, adding textures that complicate what could have been an easy folk-rock closer. The title track and final instrumental tie everything together nicely, ending the record similarly to how it started.

Across It’s a Beautiful Place, Brown and Amos ricochet between maximalist noise, crooked pop structures, and ambience, every song a shot at testing the elasticity of sound. This record asks you to commit multiple listens before making any judgment calls—not because it’s elusive (okay, it is a little), but because it keeps giving more each time. (Bandcamp link)

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on these records! Did I get it right, or am I way off the mark?

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Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

by KevinLeave a Comment on 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:

I want to ditch the algorithm!

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, we again overindex new tracks, with a couple of old faves balancing things out. We start with community fave Water From Your Eyes before kicking into high gear with a 1-2 punch of Bob Mould & Die Spitz. From there, we’ve got the latest from our friend,

The Ririverse, and we end Side 1 with the latest from a longtime DC area band.

Side two kicks off with a track from a record I once deemed the #4 record of all time, before taking a trip to Pittsburgh to hear some Gaadge. I’m not on Threads anymore, but before I left, I was lucky to meet a couple of you and find Palm Ghosts. Their latest is here. Here’s to silver linings.

I know I keep saying it, but it’s true: 2025 might be a hot mess, but not when it comes to new music.

Other sources: Qobuz | YouTube Music | Apple 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!


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Sound Advice: 12.Sept.2025

by KevinLeave a Comment on Sound Advice: 12.Sept.2025

The flood of great records continues! Today we’re taking a quick look at the latest from Ivy, Dar Williams, Lail Arad, 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 Ivy, Dar Williams, Maia Sharp, and more!

The boilerplate intro:

Every year, I celebrate all the great music we’ve been gifted while worrying that next year will see the other shoe drop. I first did that in December 2020 and have been proven wrong every month since. Not only are there a ton of releases steadily coming out, but it also transcends genre or any other artificial guardrail we try 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!

Ivy- Traces of You

Here are reunions, there are comebacks, and then there’s whatever Ivy just did.

Five years after losing creative engine Adam Schlesinger, and seemingly out of nowhere, Ivy is back with Traces of You.

The last time we heard new material from them was All Hours, a synth-forward pivot that left many fans blinking in confusion. Traces of You, by contrast, feels like Ivy returning to the house they built in the late ’90s and early 2000s.

What’s remarkable—at least to me—is that Schlesinger is everywhere. The band stitched his work back into the mix using fragments and demos tracked between 1995 and 2012. The result isn’t eerie or gimmicky. I’ve always disliked things like hologram performances, and wondered if this might feel similar. It doesn’t. Whatever they’ve done feels organic—authentic, not synthetic.

Dominique Durand still sounds like she’s whispering secrets from the other side of the door, while Andy Chase and longtime collaborator Bruce Driscoll know exactly how to frame that haze and shimmer.

Traces of You fits seamlessly into Ivy’s golden-era lineage. “The Midnight Hour” and “Say You Will” could easily sit on In the Clear, all velvet melancholy and zero wasted motion. “Heartbreak” flirts with bossa nova. “Lose It All” luxuriates in its own pace. And “Hate That It’s True” might be the most emotionally direct song they’ve ever recorded.

This record didn’t have to exist. No one expected it, and maybe that’s why it lands so powerfully. Traces of You feels like a gift, and it’s easily among their finest work. It’s a dreamy, deliberate, impossibly cool farewell…or perhaps just another pause. Either way, we’re lucky to have it.

Dar Williams-Hummingbird Highway

Though known for folk music, Williams knows her way around other genres. On her 13th release, she wastes no time doing just that. Put Coins On His Eyes is classic bluegrass. Tu Sais Le Printemps is a fun bit of bossa nova that will transport you to 1960s Paris, which makes for, as Williams puts it, “a light, flirty song amidst many gloomy news stories.” I’d submit that it’s just the sort of thing we can use right now.

The Way I Go is an uptempo track that will remind listeners of early Mary Chapin Carpenter work. I Want To See the Bright Lights Tonight is an excellent take on the Richard Thompson classic, kicking everything up just enough to get you moving. Maryland, Maryland is both a love letter to her home state and a call to action.

The styles are disparate, yet matched by Williams’ knack for crafting intricate narratives with rich storytelling that give you plenty to contemplate without weighing you down. Like any recipe, adding the wrong ingredient or the wrong amount can end in disaster. On Hummingbird Highway, all of these elements blend together to make a cohesive, compelling whole.

As Williams notes, “As I’ve gotten older, I feel more comfortable holding a lot of different threads in my hand to create more complicated patterns. Time has given me a better ability to hold a bunch of colors and temperaments and see what happens, where they become interesting new stories and also where I need to stop and untangle the themes and characters. It’s daunting, and I’ve learned that, you know, daunting is fine, just keep going.” Amen.

Maia Sharp- Tomboy

Maia Sharp has always written with a steady hand—and written tracks for plenty of others. Tomboy, her newest record, sharpens that instinct into something leaner, tougher, and oddly freer. Sharp shows her cards with the title: this album is about stance, and owning space you might have been told not to take up.

The production is stripped down here. Guitars cut nice, clean lines, and the drums are in the backseat. There are some horns, but they, too, are in a supporting role. Sharp’s warm, husky voice carries the weight. There’s a steadiness to it, a real old soul vibe.

She’s not going it alone, though; plenty of people are along for the ride, including Terri Clark, who joins her on “Asking for a Friend,” one of the highlights on the record.

What stands out is how unforced these songs feel. You don’t get the sense of Sharp chasing relevance, clicks, or bending toward trends. Instead, Tomboy is fueled by direct melodies, emotions, and stakes. The writing is as tight as ever, less about clever turns and more about saying what matters.

It’s the kind of album that sneaks up on you (or did for me, anyway). One listen sets the mood; give it a couple of listens, and things start to pop out at you.

In the end, Tomboy is Sharp playing to her strengths.

Also awesome:

JF Robitaille & Lail Arad- Wild Moves:

One of the coolest things Substack used to do was host workshops for writers. These meet & greets were not only informative—you always came away having learned something—but also genuinely fun. Part of the charm was the surprise; you never knew who you’d be paired with. At one of these sessions, I was lucky enough to be put in a cohort with

Lail Arad. She’s been making fantastic music for a long time, as has her partner Robitaille. Now, with Wild Moves, they’ve joined forces, and the result is a delight from start to finish. The record opens with Swim Toward Your Troubles, a track whose infectious refrain will have you singing along in no time. It only gets better from there.

Bleary Eyed- Easy:

You want some shoegaze? You got it! On their latest record, Philly’s Bleary Eyed bring it all; sludgy guitar, ethereal vocals, and just enough pop to keep you coming back for more. Somewhere Kevin Shields is looking on and smiling. (Huge shoutout to

josh terry for getting this on my radar!)

Tullycraft-Shoot the Point:

Good news for twee pop fans! Tullycraft is back with Shoot the Point, their first release since 2019’s The Railway Prince Hotel. This is a newer band for me, and if I’m honest, my capacity for twee is negligible. But in a case like this, it’s easy to get swept away on a wave of infectious hooks, back-and-forth vocals between Sean Tollefson and Jenny Mears, and tambourines… so many tambourines. A seriously enjoyable record from a band that doesn’t take itself too seriously.

Also: I’m callin’ it now: “Jeanine’s Up Again and Blaring Faith by The Cure” is the wildest song title that’ll grace this page in 2025.

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on these records! Did I get it right, or am I way off the mark?

Leave a comment

Sound Advice: 05.Sept.2025

by KevinLeave a Comment on Sound Advice: 05.Sept.2025

The flood of great records continues! Today we’re taking a quick look at the latest from The Beths, Suede, Smut, 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 The Beths, Jens Kuross, Smut, and more!

The boilerplate intro:

Every year, I celebrate all the great music we’ve been gifted while worrying that next year will see the other shoe drop. I first did that in December 2020 and have been proven wrong every month since. Not only are there a ton of releases steadily coming out, but it also transcends genre or any other artificial guardrail we try 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!

The Beths- Straight Line Was a Lie

As someone now squarely in middle age, I sometimes question writing about new, hip bands. Should a suburban dad be writing about whatever the kids like? I dunno. What I do know is that I like The Beths. I liked Expert in a Dying Field and love this latest release.

The record opens with a familiar ring, landing squarely in that Beths sweet spot: catchy enough to feel like it’s been rattling around your brain for years, but just weird and self-aware enough to ever get filed under “power pop.” But from there, things get… sketchier. Elizabeth Stokes has been candid about her recent health struggles. That shadow looms large here— not a downer per se, but in the gravity of song titles like “No Joy” and “Mother, Pray For Me,” and in the slower, more introspective undercurrent that runs through the record.

In the press release, Stokes noted, “I was kind of dealing with a new brain…it was like my instincts were just a little different. They weren’t as panicky.” She also mentioned that many of these tracks were written using a Remington typewriter, which IMO is fantastic. Hammering those keys daily for a month resulted in about 10 pages worth of material, much of which ultimately found its way here.

Still, this isn’t a total pivot. The Beths can still rip. “No Joy” is a sharp track, and “Metal” and “Best Laid Plans” punch through the clouds with bright, hyper-melodic jangle, the latter even flirting with some Day-Glo 80s new wave shimmer. “Roundabout” (no, not that “Roundabout”) feels like a lost gem from a late-night college radio set. As for “Take?” I’m not saying I listened to it 3x in a row on the drive home the other day, but I’m not not sayin’ it, either.

No lie: Look for this to be on a lot of AOTY lists come December/January. (Bandcamp Link)

Suede- Antidepressants

Suede’s tenth studio album is like a lightning bolt. Their first new music since 2022’s Autofiction feels less like a continuation and more like an aftershock—proof that this band, after nearly forty years in the game, has no interest in setting the autopilot and coasting along..

The record opens with “Disintegrate,” which feels like a rollercoaster drop into chaos. It’s loud, frayed, and hella angsty. That sets the tone for everything that follows: songs designed less as comfort food and more as jolts to our already overloaded nervous systems.

“If Autofiction was our punk record, Antidepressants is our post-punk record…It’s about the tensions of modern life, the paranoia, the anxiety, the neurosis. We are all striving for connection in a disconnected world. This was the feel I wanted the songs to have. The album is called Antidepressants. This is broken music for broken people.”

Suede frontman Brett Andersen

I first thought that “Disintegrate” would be the record’s feature track…and then track 2 started. “Dancing with the Europeans” is bombastic, theatrical, and over the top in all the best ways, and I’m 100% here for it. 

“Criminal Ways” reminds me of early Smiths (maybe “How Soon is Now?”) and is glorious and trashy in equal measure. Andersen is in full voice here, with the band swirling around him with the urgency of people who know time is short. This is Suede mining the same sounds that made them a force in the first place—only now with the added benefit of perspective. 

“Trance State” sounds like something that could have just as easily come from Republic-era New Order. I know, I know. I can see you shaking your head from here. But give it a listen—especially the bass line—and tell me it’s not reminiscent of Hooky’s work. Regardless, it’s an awesome track. 

Back to my original point, what’s most striking to me is how much Antidepressants refuse to “settle.” The lyrics are heavy with dread and dissonance and are particularly relevant in this moment when everything seems particularly fraught. 

Coasting would’ve been easy—and I don’t think anyone would’ve blamed them. Instead, they’ve doubled down on urgency and almost dare people not to pay attention. I know I’ve (over)used that word here plenty, but listening to the record, it’s the theme I keep coming back to.

Ten albums in, Suede sounds like a band running out of time but unwilling to slow down. The ultimate winner in all this? Us. The world might be coming apart at the seams, but at least we can say we were around to see some of Suede’s best work. (Suede’s website)

Jens Kuross- Crooked Songs

Kuross’s story is a familiar one: singer-songwriter decamps to LA with bright eyes and hope for the future, only to be chewed up and spit out by the machine. Sick of being on the fringes eking out a living as a session musician, he returned to Idaho and returned to basics. In this case, that means an entire record of just his vocals and an electric piano. The kind of thing you listen to with a glass of whiskey while you dream of going off the grid and building a boat by hand in a garage somewhere. On paper, this sounds like a solid concept. To be fair, this isn’t really in my wheelhouse, but even with that aside, I couldn’t get past the muddled mix. I’m sure that was intentional and meant to give the whole thing some sort of mystery or whatever, but Kuross’s voice is already an acquired taste. Doing this in a much more straightforward manner would have really gone a long way. With only his voice and the piano, you can only go so many directions, and Crooked Songs quickly falls into the sameness trap. If you like this sort of thing, it’s a fun place to be. For most of us, though, this is music best consumed in small doses. A song here or there is plenty. (Bandcamp link)

Smut- Tomorrow Comes Crashing

A lot has happened since Smut released their previous record, 2022’s How the Light Felt. The record had a poignant, almost ethereal quality, informed by the death of singer Tay Roebuck’s sister. At the risk of being too clever by half, in many ways, the record felt like the low light of autumn (not derogatory).

In the meantime, the band has moved, Roebuck and band member Andie Min married, and the lineup has changed, with John Steiner and Aidan O’Connor joining on bass & drums. That rhythm section sets an excellent foundation for a louder, cleaner sound. Think less Saint Etienne or Sundays and more Hole. It’s as if they’ve realized that the amps actually go up to 10. Andrew Rogers and Sam Ruschman are both on guitar, and while their presence is certainly out front, the ferocity never overtakes the sound. They alternate between clean hooks and blast furnace power chords at the right time/pace. Roebuck’s voice is the secret weapon here. She’s equally at home singing in an almost lullaby to a full-throated scream and everything in between. It not only keeps the gutiars in check, it elevates them.

Writing about the band in 2023, I noted:

You’re out of luck if you’re looking for a heavier, sludgy sound. You’ve hit pay dirt if you like your indie rock jangly with bright, clean vocals. And if you like all of that tinged with a 90s influence? Well, you might have a new favorite record on your hands.

Tomorrow Comes Crashing has something for both camps. (Bandcamp link)

Also awesome:

Planet Smashers-On the Dancefloor: Solid ska out of Montreal. I run hot and cold with this genre. I love first wave stuff, but have no taste for the unserious stylings of bands like Reel Big Fish. Not everything needs to be a joke! Thankfully, the band’s 10th record is enjoyable. Neville Staple of The Specials makes an appearance here as well. Rad! (Bandcamp link)

Mo Lowda & The Humble- Tailing the Ghost: Fun fact: These guys headlined the first show I saw post-COVID, and it was worth the wait. At any rate, Tailing the Ghost is More of the soulful sound you’ve come to expect from these Philly-based groove merchants, with tracks like “Canary” leading the way. Looks like they’re on tour again. If they’re comin’ your way, make a plan to check ‘em out! (Shopify link)

Terminal Buildings- Belles of the Bucket:The second of a 1-2 punch of records released nearly simultaneously. While A Binful of Bells was a sprawling affair, this is much more compact, and the tunes are much more economical. Speaking with frontman Finlay via email, he described the record as “[taking] the cast-offs that were too punchy to fit in with the rest of that album. The songs were written and recorded on either side of a move back to my home city of Aberdeen, which is why it took so long.” This is a fantastic dose of straight-ahead lo-fi power pop. Imagine a slightly more wistful version of GBV, and you‘ve got the gist. Also worth noting that these records are priced at Pay What You Can, with all revenue going to charity. (Bandcamp link)

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on these records! Did I get it right, or am I way off the mark?

Thanks for being here,

Kevin—

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?

A Few Underrated Soundtracks Worth Checking Out

by KevinLeave a Comment on 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—

Announcement: An Album of the Month Event You Should Check Out

by KevinLeave a Comment on 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)

Album art courtesy of IRS Records

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

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

The Best Record of 1989, Day 62: #54 The Pogues, Peace and Love vs. #75 Nomeansno, Wrong

by KevinLeave a Comment on 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.

by KevinLeave a Comment on 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—