#its on my kevin playlist and it reminds me of how he grew up on the ravens until he found solace with the foxes

[amityillustration]

My opinion will not be lenient My opinion, it's real convenient Our words are loud, but now I'm talking action We don't get enough love? Well, they get a fraction They say "How could he go if he's got everything?" I'll mourn for a kid, but won't cry for a king

[neatokat]

Neato’s Favorite September Tracks!!

Howdy all, starting a new thing with my monthly favorites playlist where I share my favorite tracks for the month! I think it’ll be cool to compare the changes from month to month so it’s mostly for me, but I love sharing music so posting here if you care to listen. This month I have about 13 tracks that I’ll rank from least to most favorite :)

Here’s a link to my favorite tracks playlist and another to my September 2021 playlist if you care to listen :D

13) Figure It Out by A-Wall

I found this song from looking into the artist who wrote Loverboy, which was a popular TikTok sound on my fyp for a good bit this month. My favorite TikToks from that trend were the ones with animals and other sweet things happening to people and here’s my favorite one if you care to watch :). When I was looking into the artist I found this song and I thought the vibe was really chill,, perfect for my walks to school early in the morning. The lyrics however aren’t as chill and I feel like that is representative of myself, as I tend to appear calm and collected on the surface level even though I may be really stressed and anxious internally. (Still makes it perfect for my morning walks though as my first class is psychological statistics and it’s a really hard class lmao).

12) Festival Grrrl by Ivy Mono

I actually first came across this song in the recommended songs list of my August 2021 playlist. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the song then and usually skipped it if I happened to run through my entire August playlist and it was playing recommended songs. However, as it kept coming up, I grew to like it more ( that’s the mere exposure effect at play boys 😎). I ended up adding it when it was recommended for my September playlist.

11) Yarn by McCafferty

I love me a good angry song and I earlier in the month I had added Beachboy by the same artist. However, I was kind of bored with all the music I had on my playlist at the time because it was a bit of a repeat of last month. I like to hear a variety of things so I ended up going through each artist I had in the playlist to see if they had any other good songs. I came across this song along with a couple of others. It’s not as angry as Beachboy, but I did like it’s general vibe (mostly the guitar and drums in bsckground). Very catchy song 👍

10) WasteUrTime by Kevin Walkman

I’m pretty sure I added this song through the recommended list on my September playlist. Overall it’s just a really funky song that makes my head go brrrrrrrrr with the backtrack and with every “time/mind”. I absolutely love this song.

9) Keep Two-Stepping by Pretoria

This song has a really chill vibe,, I love to listen to it if I’m feeling anxious or to wind down before I go to sleep. I’m listening to it right now and it’s making me a bit sleepy (I can’t tell if I accidentally conditioned that response or I’m just tired lmao). Sometimes when I listen to this song I think about the really sweet candle guy, and I hope he’s doing okay (we still talk every so often but he’s stressed with a new job so I try not to bug him). Good song 👍

8) Turtleneck Sweater by marinelli

This was another song I found in my September recommended. When I first came across it I looped it for about a day straight. Another really chill song, and I love to listen to it on the bus home.

7) Missing Poster by Budman.

I actually found this one song on TikTok, and though thinking too hard about the general theme of the song makes me uncomfortable sometimes it’s just really catchy and gets stuck in my head all the time. Still a good song 👍

6) Sunkissed by khai dreams

This is the #1 most popular track by khai dreams right now and for good reason. It’s such a lovely song (pun intended). Whenever I listen to this song I’m reminded of the time I was singing this on the elevator and the doors opened suddenly and two girls walked in on me. Hella embarrassing lmao. It also makes me think of this one girl who helps to take care of the cats that live under one of the buildings near my Tuesday/Thursday classes. She’s really sweet and I enjoy the little time I get to spend with her between my classes those days.

5) Choker by Beach Goons

I found this song through the candle guy. Whenever we were first getting to know each other, he would ask me about my island picks (if you had to pick one [fill in the blank] to take to an abandoned island, what would you chose?). To his dismay, I’m pretty indifferent to everything, so when he asked what album I would choose as my island pick, I said I didn’t have one lmao. His island pick is called Hoodratscumbags and despite the sort of off-putting name it’s actually a really good album and I couldn’t recommend it more. They give off a really cool San Diego vibe and honestly all their music slaps. This song is another one by them, and it’s my favorite one by far. Its the kind of song you want to jump and headbang to, and I can’t help but tap my foot whenever I’m listening to it in public.

4) Fairhaven Station by tanner.

This was yet another song I found in my recommended for my September playlist. Just like Turtleneck Sweater, the first day I heard it I looped it for about a day straight. It’s a really good traveling song and a fun one to walk to across campus between classes.

3) Was It Something I Said by MyKey ft. Cavetown

This yet another song I found in the recommended section for my September playlist. I saw that Cavetown was a featuring artist on the song and I was sold. The fakeout at beginning of the song is absolutely fantastic and the backtrack of this song is literally so pleasing to the ear that I could probably listen to it on loop for days on end and I still wouldn’t be tired of it.

2) OhNo! by Kevin Walkman and Mickey Darling

Yet another song I found in my recommended for September (can you tell this is my main method of finding new music lmao). I love a good upbeat song as much as the next guy. In addition to the song just being a good vibe in general I absolutely love the cover art. One of my favorite songs ever just by vibe alone 👍

1) Mawce by Everybody’s Worried About Owen

This is another song I found through TikTok, and honestly it’s one of my favorite trends to go through LGBT+ TikTok. If you scroll through the sound you’ll find people lipsyncing to the line “so I’ll give myself a name, something stupid and pretentious like moss spelled with a C” while showing off their own chosen names and sharing where they pulled inspiration for their name. It’s overall just a silly and wholesome trend and I can’t help but smile when one comes up on my fyp. This trend actually inspired me to actually pick out my own name, something I had been too scared to do before because I didn’t know how to find a name that meant something to me. After seeing how other people came up with their own names (their favorite childhood tv shows and movies, something inspired from nature, video game characters, etc.) I realized it didn’t have to be serious if I didn’t want it to

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Spencer Cullum

Spencer Cullum is a Nashville-based, London-born pedal steel player and guitarist. Cullum is co-founder of instrumental group Steelism and a member of Miranda Lambert’s band. His latest album as Spencer Cullum’s Coin Collection, explores the classic folk of 1960s Britain and the motoric drive of 1970s krautrock in a gentle, glancing way that hardly features pedal steel at all. In her review, Jennifer Kelly observed that, “This self-titled sounds like a long lost, 1960s British folk album, stuffed in the racks behind the Pentangle, Fairport, Donovan and Incredible String Band discs, so that no one noticed it until now.”

Gong — “I Never Glid Before” (Live 1973)

The roots of electronic prog folk that encapsulates unbelievable musicianship and free form jazz. I first discovered their record Angel Egg when I was in my teens and it always felt like anything was possible, musically. It is easy to pin Gong’s approach as silly and ‘out there,’ but you try starting a band, making it look like a cult, arranging the most complex music and then trying to market it. Now where do I get one of those wizard hats?

Kevin Ayers — “May I”

Kevin Ayers is a big part of my new record, someone recently said his music and band reminded them of an English Velvet Underground, I can see that. It’s artistic and expressive to where it keeps its naïve beauty. Now where do I get one of those beautiful tartan flat caps that the accordion player is sporting?

Icebreaker play Eno/Lanois (feat. BJ Cole) — “Deep Blue Day (Apollo)”

I think this is the open window to where the pedal steel guitar can be taken. I’ve always treated the steel guitar as an instrument that can be treated as ‘orchestral.’ Never getting in the way but adding to a texture that lifts a piece of music and makes something panoramic.

Ian Dury and the Blockheads (feat. Wilko Johnson) — “Blockheads”

Essex’s Finest! Ian Dury was a force of nature. I’ve always been sometimes a little embarrassed of my thick Essex accent and stigma that surrounds Essex (especially Romford) and then I put on Ian Dury and realize its best to not give a fuck about that and be proud of your roots and manipulate them to your advantage.

Dr. Feelgood — “Roxette”

Sticking with my roots. Canvey Island down the road from where I was born (and where my father grew up) is some of the deepest British blues I’ve heard...THE THAMES DELTA!! Something in that Essex water! Or maybe it was all those jellied Eels they were eating.

John Martyn — “Couldn’t Love You More”

It’s really hard to watch this as you can see a man battling his demons. To see how John Martyn was so reckless and wild but to sound so fragile and beautiful. Solid Air was a gateway into my obsession with English Folk music. It’s a must!

Joni Mitchell — “In France they Kiss on Main Street”

I looked this video up and also found lots of bass player YouTube videos of them playing the Jaco parts to it. YES, its utter jazz nerd fusion music but its Joni at the helm which makes it one of the most beautiful evolving records made. I’ve been re-discovering late 70s /80s Joni Mitchell and even the songs that are slightly on the cusp of being self-absorbed they always have a way of being pulled back to make the listener feel they are relatable. Her 1985 record Dog Eat Dog has been a regular on the turn-table.

Pentangle — “Wedding Dress”

Tis winter time which obviously means that it’s Pentangle listening season. Some beautiful banjo playing from Bert Jansch which you rarely see him play. This era Pentangle is from the Reflection album which has been seeing a lot of playtime at my house.

Elyse Weinberg (with Neil Young) — “Houses”

My wife recently showed me this song (always ahead of the curve), and due to me living under a rock it seems to play a lot on every hip Netflix show or when I’m grabbing coffee at a local coffee shop it’s subconsciously playing on their playlist. I love the idea of a deep cut 70s folk song coming to life and being circulated around the world.

Ivor Cutler — “Pickle Your Knees”

I honestly cannot give you a short paragraph about Ivor Cutler. But why is there not a monument statue of him in Scotland, I don’t know, as he is a god amongst the poets and comedians or the 21st Century. ENJOY... and then listen to his back catalogue.

[harangularspectacular]

Favourite Music This Year

It’s hard to know where to start writing about this year. I was sure it would be less complicated than the year before, but it feels like nothing is slowing down any time soon. The amount of content being generated online keeps growing exponentially, and the way it is perceived within its separate contexts grows increasingly complex. While this feels a little overwhelming at times, it’s also an exciting cultural phenomenon to witness as the pop music genre splinters and fragments, rendered obsolete by personalised playlists on streaming platforms and artists’ abilities to self-publish online.

This year also seemed to involve a dramatic swing in both music and its criticism towards emphasising the significance of contexts, as the testimonies of survivors who spoke out about their experiences in the entertainment industries highlighted the nexus between personal and political discourses. As a result, albums from many established pop acts seemed largely irrelevant, rendered obsolete for at least the time being by their lack of direct engagement with marginalised or disempowered perspectives; the most exciting music this year was first and foremost a tool for social protest or commentary.

While my approach to making this list remains as subjective and personal as it has always been, my decisions in choosing which songs to write about this year in particular is informed by not only what resonated with me, but also the music that felt inextricably linked to this moment in time. I hope that I am successful in communicating the meanings I have invested in these songs, and that this can in some way contribute to a greater understanding, appreciation, and enjoyment of the work. Mostly though, I’m just trying to make sense of my connection to them, and by extension, the world around me, in the only way that I know how.

Feist - A Man Is Not His Song

I’m not sure there was a more relevant song written this year, or how a song with this concept hadn’t been written earlier. Canadian singer-songwriter Leslie Feist penned these lyrics well before a large amount of men in the public eye were revealed to be predators, although A Man Is Not His Song seems to encapsulate the complicated response that audiences, including myself, have since felt with regards to how to consider or engage with the accused men’s bodies of work. While my personal preferences and taste make some artists relatively easy to dismiss in light of their highly-publicised acts of violence and abuse, the works of critically-respected artists like Woody Allen, Kevin Spacey and Dustin Hoffman have been influential in shaping my perspective of the world, and are much harder for me to disentangle myself from, if that is indeed necessary. Navigating how to engage with their art now involves asking a series of critical questions that I’d previously had the luxury of ignoring; questions about reading and power, questions about content versus context.

Feist doesn’t necessarily try to resolve this situation with a definitive answer that suggests privileging one side of the dichotomy over the other. Instead, she does something that feels more human, acknowledging the desire that we all have to sing along, to believe in the biographical fallacy, that an artist’s work is a true representation of their character and is the standard by which they should be evaluated, for better or for worse. It’s a song that elegantly addresses the spectacle of our own loss of innocence in a complex manner that doesn’t deny the agency of the artist or the audience, emphasising the idea that ignorance has never seemed so simultaneously blissful and problematic.

Alex Cameron- True Lies / Kirin J. Callinan - Bravado

In a year dominated by discussions about men abusing their power and privilege, Sydney musicians Kirin J. Callinan and Alex Cameron were some of the few male artists willing to engage with the issue in a manner that encouraged an empathetic recognition of the problem and sought to address the root cause, rather than offer a quick and dismissive condemnation of the behaviour that is ultimately symptomatic of larger scale problems; instead of engaging in the elaborate misdirection and diversion tactics used to scapegoat other celebrities and signal their own virtues, Callinan and Cameron’s music acknowledges the problematic parts of masculinity and identifies it within themselves, albeit through exaggerated characterisations of their own personalities.

Not only does a song like True Lies by Cameron depict the disturbingly adrift perspective of a man navigating twenty-first-century romance, but it also explores the very human characteristic of preferring a beautiful lie over the ugly truth. “Well it’s hard being a liar,” Cameron sings over some midwestern guitars in the opening lyrics, “I don’t know who’s supposed to be on my mind.” It’s certainly not a noble dilemma, but the struggle he faces is one that is communicated with a sincere insincerity, as if he’s delivering his own private soliloquy. The culmination of these thoughts arrives during the final verse, where the narrator acknowledges that the woman he’s been messaging on the Internet might not indeed be who she claims. However, he remains so compelled by the fantasy that he’s willing to invest in it despite this potentially troubling revelation; it’s a situation that will obviously not end well for anyone involved, and we sense that his character recognises this, but does not possess the moral strength to make the right decision.

In a time when the damage done by those in power and those seeking power seems driven by a similar vacillating feeling of subconscious free-fall, willingly void of all self-knowledge or acceptance, True Lies then serves as a refreshing and challenging reminder that the emotions being used to justify these behaviours are real, and that their insidious nature must be addressed in order to shatter the illusion of actions that lack consequences; instead of presenting the temptation of the fantasy as an excuse for why men shouldn’t be held accountable, Cameron highlights the agency of the men involved in buying into the fallacy of their own innocence. What’s miraculous is the levity with which Cameron communicates this idea, aided in part by his reference to Nigerian scam artists, but also by the cheesy eighties production and saxophone flourishes.

While guilt, fear, and shame are some of the most motivating human emotions and can result in much-needed social change, as someone who grew up in the church, I’m also keenly aware of how extrinsic these motivations are, and therefore how important it is to encourage the self-knowledge needed to recognise the true nature of one’s intentions and understand their problematic constitution; if fear of hellfire is all that is keeping someone’s behaviour in line, they are not a reformed individual.

In light of this, Bravado stands as one the best pop songs this year. It’s retrograde at a time when the term is synonymous with pop music as the genre, like traditional masculinity, loses its meaning; it’s broad; it’s blue; and it features a guitar solo that sounds like a flying saucer. The song is the final track from the eponymous record, firmly establishing it as a concept album about fractured identities. Indeed, after nine songs that flirt with satirical representations of masculinity and celebrity, Bravado encapsulates Callinan’s whole artistic persona in one four-minute song as the layers of irony and offensive posturing drop away to reveal a vulnerable, lonely, and insecure character at the heart of the spectacle. Callinan might be singing about feeling like an embattled figure, but his character is one who has the humility to believe he deserves what he’s receiving, recognises that his struggles are of his own making, and is trying to change. Finally, Bravado poses the question of how then to change in a world where the established and traditional ideas about masculinity seem tied to longstanding beliefs about redemption through divine absolution; in short, it’s a prayer for non-believers.

Stella Donnelly - Boys Will Be Boys

My readings of the previous songs involved some level of extrapolation to form the interpretations that I’ve prescribed them. However, Boys Will Be Boys by Perth-based singer-songwriter Stella Donnelly requires no intellectualising to achieve its relevance. It’s a direct confrontation of the victim-blaming mentality that’s impossible to be misunderstood, made all the more personal by her use of second-person pronouns to implicate the listener and establish additional culpability on a broad, systemic scale. “Your father told you that you’re innocent,” she sings at one point, highlighting the diffusion of responsibility and moral disengagement that spans generations. The song has been described as a quiet threat, but there’s nothing about the ache in Donnelly’s voice during the chorus that feels quiet to me. I first heard this song on a Saturday morning in spring while my neighbours were mowing their lawns, and the final verse sent shivers up my spine; in what might seem like the strangest compliment I could give this song, it feels like a lawnmower in the best possible sense. 

[chorusfm]

Third Eye Blind’s self-titled is simultaneously one of the most joyful albums I’ve ever heard and one of the most heartbreaking. The first half of the record is stacked with infectiously catchy pop-rock songs—most of which became hit singles. The latter half is more jagged and mid-tempo, with songs that sound noticeably darker and more subdued. Half the songs wouldn’t sound out of place on a summertime party playlist. The other half are songs that ache with such profound loneliness that listening to them with a group of people almost seems sacrilegious. And, as is the trademark of frontman Stephen Jenkins, even some of the songs that sound happy are actually crushing.

Third Eye Blind is a much more complex record than I thought it was when I first heard it, and I’d reckon that something similar holds true for most people. Frankly, early on, it was easy to hear Third Eye Blind’s music as little more than catchy radio rock. In the summer of 1997, “Semi-Charmed Life” rode the infectiousness of its “doo doo doo” hook to the number one slot on Billboard’s Mainstream Top 40 chart. At six years old, I thought it was the catchiest song I’d ever heard. At 26 years old, I still think it’s the catchiest song I’ve ever heard. There might not be a single song that makes me think more of summertime than that one.

As a kid, I loved Third Eye Blind because they sounded like summer. I didn’t have my own CD player at the time, but I would borrow my brother’s portable player just so I could jam this album. The singles—“Semi-Charmed Life,” “Graduate,” “How’s It Going to Be,” “Losing a Whole Year,” and “Jumper” (as well as the tempo-hopping non-single “Narcolepsy”)—were gigantic, melodic songs that my six-year-old brain latched onto eagerly. An interesting thing, though, was that I never went past track six. By the time “Thanks a Lot” came on, I’d gotten what I wanted out of my Third Eye Blind spins. I’m sure I heard the back half of the record a few times, when my brother was playing it on his boom box or when it was spinning in the car CD player, but I never got there of my own accord.

Seven years after the album’s release, I finally delved into the treasures hiding near the back of Third Eye Blind. On the recommendation of a Counting Crows forum user, I actively listened to “Motorcycle Drive By” for probably the first time ever. It floored me. I couldn’t believe I’d spent so long pretending this band was nothing more than their hits when they had a deep cut this good sitting in the penultimate slot of their debut album. That discovery encouraged me to revisit the record (and Third Eye Blind’s discography as a whole), and I quickly fell in love with the tracks that surrounded “Motorcycle”: the dreamy “I Want You”; the raucously catchy “London”; the agonizing “The Background”; and the late-night beauty that was “God of Wine.”

Listening to Third Eye Blind today is a surreal experience for me. Throughout the first half, I still hear my childhood—even if I’ve long since discovered the extra weight hiding in those songs. Where “Losing a Whole Year” was once a shout-along pump-up jam, I now hear the wistful sadness in Jenkins’ voice when he shouts “I remember you and me used to spend/The whole goddamn day in bed” at the very beginning of the song. Where “Semi-Charmed Life” used to be a carefree summer anthem, I now hear it as Jenkins intended it: a song about the allure and danger of crystal meth. And now, when I hear Jenkins scream that last “How’s it going to be/When you don’t know me anymore?” toward the end of track six, it makes me ache thinking about all the friends that aren’t friends anymore.

The second half of the record is a different experience for me. If tracks one through six are my childhood, then tracks 10 through 14 are my adolescence. Starting in the summer of 2004 and ending in the summer of 2009, it felt like this record was always there at the right time, to soundtrack a fitting moment. Unlike other records from the 1990s, which largely seemed content to stay in my past, this one kept cropping up and pushing its way back into my consciousness. Sometimes, it made the approach as an old friend. Other times, it felt like a grenade, tossed at my feet when I least expected it and offering no time for me to shield myself from the blast. That’s how it was in late July 2009, when we had to put my first dog to sleep after 14 happy years. One of the first songs that came up on my iPod the next day was “The Background,” and it positively wrecked me. That was my first experience with death, and I still can’t listen to Jenkins sing “The plans I make still have you in them” without choking up.

“Motorcycle Drive By” hurts in a different way. That song to me has always conveyed the most profound loneliness in the world. In 2004, when I first heard the song, I wasn’t sure if the loneliness it was describing was devastating or liberating. I didn’t get my answer until years later, as I drove away from a girl who I thought I loved on the day I realized that we were never going to be anything more than friends. On the way home, it started pouring and “Motorcycle Drive By” came up on my iPod. Every word of the song was fitting, but the final verse especially shook me to my core. “I go home to the coast, it starts to rain, I paddle out on the water alone/Taste the salt, taste the pain, I’m not thinking of you again/Summer dies, the swells rise, the sun goes down in my eyes/See this rolling wave, darkly coming to take me home/And I’ve never been so alone, and I’ve never been so alive.”

On that drive, I felt as lonely as I’d ever been, but I also felt this bizarre electricity coursing through my body—the electricity you feel when you suffer a crushing defeat but quickly realize that you’re going to be able to carry on regardless. 11+ years after the song had been written, I realized the truth about the loneliness at the heart of “Motorcycle Drive By.” It wasn’t wholly devastating and it wasn’t wholly liberating. Instead, it was a little bit of both, mixed into a cocktail of rain, memories, and regrets. When I’m driving alone in the summertime and it starts to pour, I still make a point of putting on “Motorcycle Drive By” and playing it loud enough to shake my soul. I do it because I love the song, but also because it reminds me of that epiphanic moment in my life where I finally grew up. I can count on one hand the songs that mean more to me.

These anecdotes help explain, I think, why this record became a cult classic. If you had asked critics in the late 90s to name bands that would still have passionate followings 20 years after the fact, they probably wouldn’t have said Third Eye Blind. But the songs Stephen Jenkins (and Kevin Cadogan) wrote on this record have continued to resonate with people, because beneath the pop confections of the melodies and production are brutally honest lyrics that convey universal human experiences in deeply felt ways. Everyone’s lost a friend, or seen how the years can turn someone from an intimate romantic partner into a stranger. Everyone’s felt the quiet numbness that hangs in the air after you lose a loved one. Everyone’s had a moment like mine, where their loneliness simultaneously felt like a grievous wound and a valuable piece of knowledge. 20 year later, Third Eye Blind remains a prescient album about the pains of growing up, set against a backdrop of melodies so euphoric that they make your heart beat a little faster. It’s a record that means more to most of us today than it did back then, simply because we can understand it better now.

Please consider supporting us so we can keep bringing you stories like this one.

◎