Continuing the theme from the previous post — and frankly the bulk of the year, for that matter — I thought it was time to share some more songs from the hit and miss roller coaster we’ve been on and ride into the weekend with a few more songs under our belts. For whatever reason the overarching pattern of this year has seemed to be moments of excellence and joy quickly tempered by those of mediocrity and frustration. (Some might merely call this “life” or “adulthood,” but I suspect an international conspiracy I’ve not yet managed to unravel instead — STAY TUNED for groundbreaking developments as I manage to unearth them…)
It’s held in everything from my professional and personal lives (relentless ridiculousness at work countered by momentary innovations and wins, an ongoing bounty of delights in my beloved city by the lake juxtaposed with COVID decimation and myriad other maladies) to my musical meanderings and most things in between. It’s been so pervasive it applies both between and within these categories — lousy day at work balanced by an amazing show or meal that night. Hellacious week shadowed by a heavenly weekend. Crummy song/album or two quickly followed by a couple winners. It’s been like this the entire year, with the past few weeks being perfect examples. Increasingly atrocious work weeks attacked afterwards by some amazing off hours adventures — shows by Jeselnik, Bargatze, and the Hives, along with a visit from one of my favorite humans. Outstanding show by MMJ last night preceding what will almost certainly be the worst work week yet.
The music by and large has been mostly the same — we highlighted a handful of examples last post from some long-time favorites and I’ve found several more since, each testing the old adage of whether the glass is half full or half empty. As always I strive to focus on the former (am I not Bobby Sunshine?) and we’ll keep those efforts up here with seven sets of selections to super-size your weekend. We’ll start with the ones that test that adage the most before sliding into those more obviously overflowing examples, with the first being another pair of underwhelming albums from old faves.
The first comes from Parquet Courts frontman Andrew Savage who recently released his second solo album, Several Songs about Fire. It’s been two years since his last Courts album (2021’s Sympathy for Life, which landed at #14 on my year end list) and close to six since his solo debut (2017’s Thawing Dawn) and unfortunately this one mirrors more of the latter than the former.
Savage and his band are always an eclectic (and often amazing) listen — there’s the more straight ahead punk/indie songs of the flagship entity and the noisier, more experimental work of their alter ego Parkay Quarts, while his solo effort showed a more subtle, at times country vibe that added an interesting element to their/his repertoire. He leans into the latter here, giving just a couple tracks whose pace surpasses a lazy lope, and those end up being the ones that work best. Too often tracks meander without ever taking off (if these are songs about fire, they’re flicks on a lighter instead of sustained flames), but these two work really well. Check out “Elvis in the Army” and “David’s Dead” here:
Next comes the latest from NY/LA duo The Kills, back with their sixth album, God Games. It’s their first in nearly seven years (2017’s Ash and Ice) and unfortunately it deepens the slide begun there — that one had some solid tracks, but didn’t land on my year end list, breaking the streak of their previous three — yielding their most underwhelming album yet. For a duo known for its irresistible allure (they ooze cool, like my English aunt does gin fumes) and their taut marriage of slinky, slightly dangerous sounding songs, they’ve for some reason rendered the latter almost entirely impotent here. They’ve achieved this by largely stripping away half of their signature sound — Jamie Hince’s primal, fiery guitar — and instead given us an album of slower, at times almost sedated songs.
Similar to Savage’s the best tracks are the ones that most closely channel their “classic” sound. (I’m not looking to penalize artists for broadening their sound and trying something new. Not all experiments end up successes, though, and this unfortunately erases most of the things I love about this band.) Allison Mosshart’s vocals still occasionally exude a sensuality that could stir the sensibilities of even the most steadfast of curmudgeons, but without the punctuation of Hince’s guitar (or a beat that rises above the resting heart rate of a blue whale) the songs mostly fall flat, hitting with the force of a spitball out of a soggy straw. Two in particular rise above, the opening “New York” and “103,” both of which are worth a listen. Give em a spin here:
We’ll start making the move to more solid footing with some mixed outings from some newcomers and a trio of former #Fridayfreshness champs from the sister site. The first is the latest from Toronto band Zeus, back with their fourth album, Credo. It’s their first in nearly a decade (Classic Zeus came out in 2014) and as alluded to before it’s a mixed bag of an album.
The band has three different songwriters — multi-instrumentalists Neil Quin, Mike O’Brien, and Carlin Nicholson — and those disparate voices/influences lead to a somewhat incoherent feel as they bounce from style to style. There’s an 80s era Dire Straits and the Cars vibe to some tracks, while others have more modern echoes of bands like Cold War Kids and War on Drugs. None of those are bad on their own, it just prevents things from gelling quite as strongly overall — perhaps if there were a few less voices/styles vying for attention it would seem less jarring. That said there are still several solid tracks that’ve been getting stuck in my head and are worth sharing — here’s a mini EP with three of my faves: “Air I Walk,” Kickin’ up the Dust,” and “Candy:”
Next up comes Nashville’s Natural Child, back with their seventh album, Be M’guest. (Their last, self-titled album came out in 2020.) As I noted on the ‘Gram during their coronation, these guys mix rock, country, and blues styles in their songs and there’s everything from swampy ZZ Top and Skynyrd elements to flickers of forebears like Jimmy Buffet and Chuck Berry on the album. For some reason the variety coheres a bit better here than on Zeus’ album (maybe because the influences are cousins instead of mere cohabitants), but the Southern-inspired songs are my faves.
Tracks like the Skynyrd-flecked “Mexican Adderall” or the ZZ-esque “Check the Mirror”/”Lost and Found” are all great, with most of them showcasing some ripsh#$ little runs by guitarist Seth Murray that’re sure to get the pulse/fist pumping. Don’t sleep on the one that won on the sister site either, “Tell Me I’m Wrong.” A fun, light album good for getting you in a groove — give the tunes a taste here:
Speaking of ripsh#$ riffs — Boston’s Palehound. Otherwise known as frontwoman/guitarist Ellen Kempner, bassist Larz Brogan, and drummer Zoe Brecher, they’re the last of the former #freshness champs, back with their recently released fourth album, Eye on the Bat. (Their third, Black Friday, came out in 2019.) This one brings to mind 90s era acts like Liz Phair and Tracy Bonham with its confessional lyrics and toughness (alongside some of the aforementioned grungy guitars).
Kempner toggles between a delicate coo and a slightly more ferocious wail with her delivery and her guitar playing definitely throws off some sparks. (The rhythm section of Brogan and Brecher isn’t too shabby either…) I really dig some of the melodies, too — similar to the last two there’s a trio of faves to note here as well. Check out the killer triple play (which hit 2-3-4 on the album) of “Independence Day,” “The Clutch,” and the title track here:
We’ll close with another duo, this time a pair of Spots spillovers and new finds, the first of which is South Carolina’s SUSTO. Primarily the product of singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist Justin Osborne (who’s since been backed by a medley of supporting musicians) the band is back with their fifth album, My Entire Life. They last released an album less than two years ago (2021’s Time in the Sun), but they’re back for more with another dozen songs here and it’s a mostly solid bunch.
This one kept coming on after I’d listen to other albums, constantly hitting me with one song or another, and after the fourth or fifth time I decided to see why the Spots was being so forceful with its recommendations. (Maybe this is part of that international conspiracy I mentioned at the top? — I’m adding it to the flow chart. We’ll get to the bottom of this yet!) Writ large this one’s got a nice feel good vibe that reminds me a bit of Mt Joy/Caamp/Oliver Hazard, and while sometimes things veer a bit too close towards Christian rock for my taste, there’s more than enough for secular heathens such as I to enjoy. Check out three of my faves — “Mt Caroline,” “Hyperbolic Jesus,” and “Cowboys” here:
Last but not least is another album full of good tunes, the self-titled fourth release from Athens, Georgia’s New Madrid. It’s a bit of an older album — it came out nearly two years ago — but similar to SUSTO’s it slipped in after listening to one of my other albums and immediately grabbed my ear. (Unlike the aforementioned this one only came on once, but that single listen was enough to drive me straight to the album and I’ve been obsessively listening to it ever since.)
It’s a really good album — it reminds me a bit of Vundabar and the Shins at times — and there are loads of good tunes filling its forty minutes. Opening “I Want It” and “Are You the Wind” have an effervescent energy and pace, while back half tracks like “I Tried to Wait” add some heft with its gonzo sax freakout and muscular riff. Three of many faves include “It’s OK (2 Cry),” “Queen for a Day,” and “Q&A” — give each of em a listen here:
We’ll close with some reading material, walking us through some recent anniversaries of some classic albums. First up is the 30 year (holy fu#$, how is that possible) anniversary of the Smashing Pumpkins’ monster breakthrough Siamese Dream. The article does a good job highlighting both the importance of the album, as well as the issues frontman Billy Corgan causes fans (then and now). He’s undeniably been the driving force behind the band since the beginning (although I’ll argue drummer Jimmy Chamberlin might be the most important), a fact that’s done almost as much damage as good, particularly in recent years — the right-wing conspiracy theories, marrying someone he himself joked seemed young enough to be his daughter (in his own wedding speech!), and just misunderstanding what made albums like this so special and beloved.
It wasn’t just how hard it rocked, it was how it balanced that with sweet, swirling subtler notes and sincere, vulnerable lyrics. (See Zeitgeist for what an album solely full of rawking Pumpkins sounds like.) For years I took it for granted how great this band was — Corgan went to the high school across town and the band was constantly on local radio before they blew up and dominated MTV — but albums like this remind you why they were never going to stay secret for long, the songs were simply too good. Take a listen to two of my faves, the thundering “Quiet” and the understated “Spaceboy” here:
Up next comes the other side of the coin and what should have been a monster band — NY’s The Rapture and the 20th anniversary of their masterful Echoes. The fact these guys didn’t become sustained superstars remains something of a headscratcher, though the article (as well as the fantastic Meet Me In The Bathroom, which is required reading for any fan of 00s indie music) do a good job giving a glimpse of why — bad timing of the album’s release, battling egos and oversized personalities, etc — which only makes it more unfortunate when you listen to this album.
This remains among my top five albums from that era and one of my overall faves — it still sizzles 20 years on, and that’s even if you ignore the irresistible juggernaut that is “House of Jealous Lovers.” (Which you can’t do, even for a silly hypothetical exercise — the track is that good.) Frontman Luke Jenner’s nasally, slightly deranged falsetto was the perfect foil to the rest of the band’s sledgehammer grooves — he’d draw you in on slower songs like “Open up Your Heart” and “Infatuation” and then soundtrack your screams as your brain broke down on jagged bangers like “The Coming of Spring” and “Heaven.” (He also stars in some of the funniest stories/has some of the best lines in Bathroom — yet another reason to read that fantastic book.)
The band mostly kept the groove going for their follow on Pieces Of The People We Love, but by the time they recorded their final album In the Grace of Your Love they were almost a completely different band — far more subdued and spiritual, with barely a glimpse of the punky dancefloor destroyers they used to be. (Still a good album — it landed at #8 on my 2011 list — just a completely different feel, like going to church Sunday morning instead of the club the night before.) Like I said, it still bums me out 20 years later, but we’ll always have this gem to hold onto — crank up the title track and the equally unstoppable “Sister Saviour” and remember why here:
Last but not least we’ll close the library with another 20th anniversary remembrance, this time for the beloved Kentucky quintet My Morning Jacket and their perennial classic It Still Moves. As the eight of you occasional readers are abundantly aware, this is one of my favorite bands — their albums often end up on my year end lists (their last two landed at #4 in 2021 and #10 the year before), I’ve ranked all their albums and even given a concentrated starter kit for which songs the uninitiated should listen to first. In short, I love them, and this album (as the article notes) remains the pinnacle for a great many fans. (Including me.)
I’ve enjoyed the odder, funkier moves they’ve made since (the outer space explorations of Jim (or Yim’s) cape era) as well as their frequent returns to the warm, pastoral elements so often in view here, but it’s this album’s masterful collection of the latter which remains the high point. Its songs remain a stalwart of the live shows, accounting for anywhere from 15-20% of their setlists even now, despite having released six studio albums since then. I had the distinct pleasure of seeing them perform the album in its entirety the other night and it was every bit as transcendent as it’s so often been over the past 20 years. (This is a band that knows how to nail mind-wreckingly uplifting live shows — they’re flat out one of the best performers out there — but even having seen them do it a dozen times or so over the years, this show was on a whole other level.) It’s almost impossible to pick a favorite, but here’s two I always come back to, the slowly building face melter “Run Thru” and the fall on the floor beauty “Steam Engine.” Give em (and then the entire album) a spin here:
Finally I’ll leave you with the speech from Tom Morello last weekend for Rage Against the Machine’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Morello was there on his own — not entirely unexpected for Zach to be absent (although he did induct Patti Smith in 2007), but I was somewhat surprised that Brad and Tim weren’t there. Nevertheless, the Rage guitarist delivered an outstanding speech, a call to arms every bit as undeniable as the band’s songs. If you aren’t moved to do something — start a band, run for office, protest (or stir up a SH#$load of trouble) — I don’t know what’s wrong with you. So do as the man says — crank up the Rage and go make this place something worth shouting about.
Until next time, amici… — BS