Happy Sunday, bibliophiles! I hope this week has treated you well.
This week: apologies for the whiplash lineup, but if your shuffle hasn’t whooped you with Julien Baker and Caroline Polachek back to back, have you even lived?
Enjoy this week’s songs!
SUNDAY SONGS: 12/1/24
2024 was such a powerhouse year of fantastic albums that I’ve found myself wondering how 2025 could possibly measure up. Of course, the future’s unwritten, to quote Phoebe Bridgers, but if the upcoming solo Tunde Adebimpe album and this are anything to go by, it’s gonna be another fantastic year of music. Or at least a fantastic February, now that we have new Horsegirl on the horizon! Their second album, Phonetics On & On (if there was ever a more Horsegirl album title) comes out on Valentine’s Day next year, so I’m officially spoken for, thank you very much. It’s produced by none other than Cate Le Bon (!!!), and no matter how utterly pretentious I sound for getting excited about Horsegirl being produced by Cate Le Bon, oh my gooooooood (nobody got that), I remain excited after finally listening to some of Le Bon’s weirder solo albums and knowing the magic she worked with Wilco on Cousin back in 2023.
Horsegirl have always been an artsy bunch, taking inspiration from everyone from Brian Eno to Built to Spill, but “2468” reminds me of their picks from their episode of What’s In My Bag?—specifically their last one, The Feelies’ Crazy Rhythms. Penelope Lowenstein described a moment on that episode where she was supposed to be doing homework in Spanish class and was listening to The Feelies instead and felt like “the coolest person in the world.” I’ve always respected The Feelies, but they just make me anxious. Props to them for having their music so sanded down that there’s no wrinkles whatsoever, but it feels like the point after you’ve enjoyed your coffee and the caffeine jitters start to set in, but you have to stay put in your seat. They feel itchy, weirdly. Like something’s trapped in the music and is clawing to get out, but The Feelies just won’t let it. Good for them, man, but the nervous energy transfers very easily. “2468” is proof that Horsegirl’s uptight needle is quivering in the direction of The Feelies, but for all of their toy-solider precision, I don’t think they could ever be that itchily nervous. All of the lyrics are spoken deadpan, in some sort of no-man’s-land between nursery rhymes and marching orders, complete with a little “da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da” in case it gets too strict. With the band decked out in their best Wes Anderson fits, they shuffle and paddy-cake around as their well-oiled machine skips along. They may be taking after their uptight forefathers, but they’ve left themselves plenty of leeway to jump around—and those artsy leaps are what make me the most excited for what the future holds for Horsegirl.
…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:
Early Riser – Jasper Fforde – delightfully odd in both concept and writing.
“When the Sun Hits” – Slowdive
Dread it…run from it…shoegaze always arrives on this blog.
I guess I was too mired in Spiritualized (and a sprinkling of Beach House) to get into Slowdive sooner, but it was always at the back of my mind, even when I’d never listened to it yet. I’d seen them floating around in the same musical circles that I listened to, not to mention my awesome honors English teacher from high school wearing a Slowdive shirt out of nowhere for band shirt day during spirit week. (My high school’s English department happened to be very shoegazey. I bumped into that same teacher at a Spiritualized concert in my senior year.) I should’ve hitched a ride on the bandwagon after Soccer Mommy covered “Dagger” last year, but here we are. Look, I know “When The Sun Hits” is their most popular song, and I’m a poser, yada yada yada, but LORD, this is beautiful.
For me, what separates shoegaze is its ability to create an atmosphere. J. Spaceman is the undisputed king (in my mind) in that regard, with his ability to create cosmically lived-in music that sounds all at once intimately personal and wide enough to swallow the world whole. “When The Sun Hits” stirs up that same feeling; the production is nothing short of cavernous, capturing the dappled reflections of water on the walls of a cave and the stringy sunlight shyly peering in. Both the vocals of Neil Halstead and Rachel Goswell take a blinding backseat to the mounting ocean of sound that reduces all else to a wavering echo. Slowdive were one of many alternative bands inspired by David Bowie’s Berlin trilogy, citing Low and Lodger as key influences, but funnily enough, I discovered this song through this inspired mashup of this track and David Bowie’s “Heroes.” I’d be surprised if that missing album didn’t creep in there, given how seamlessly the chorus of “When The Sun Hits” glides into Bowie’s opening chords. Having the first line of the pre-chorus be “It matters where you are” is a choice that defines the song’s experience: when you’re in the midst of experiencing it for the first time, all else seems to fall away. You can’t help but be pulled into the undertow, to be in the present, just to experience this song. That’s shoegaze.
…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:
The Heart of the World (The Isles of the Gods, #2) – Amie Kaufman – “Sweet thing, I watch you/Burn so fast, it scares me/Mind games, don’t leave me/Come so far, don’t lose me…”
If you’re able, consider supporting this album, TRANSA, a compilation album featuring over 100 artists organized by the Red Hot Organization to bring awareness to trans rights! The album features Jeff Tweedy, Adrianne Lenker, Bill Callahan, André 3000, Perfume Genius, and so many more amongst its ranks, with both original songs and covers ranging from Kate Bush to SOPHIE.
Predictably, I first heard of TRANSA through Julien Baker, who covered Belle & Sebastian’s “Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying” with SOAK, Quinn Christopherson, and Calvin Lauber. Lauber, who also produced many of Julien Baker’s newer material as well as boygenius’ “Black Hole,” turns Belle & Sebastian’s melancholy, jangly yearning into an urgent spectacle, a sprint through the woods to a brighter future for all four minutes and 13 seconds. If there’s anything that Baker can always deliver on, it’s urgency—the urgency of trauma, the urgency of love. With the context of both Baker’s queer identity and the album’s overarching theme of the trans experience, “Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying” takes on a whole new light; “Oh, I’ll settle down with some old story/About a boy who’s just like me/Thought there was love in everything and everyone/You’re so naive” becomes the loss of innocence in the face of homophobia and transphobia and finding solace in fiction, and “Here on my own now after hours/Here on my own now on a bus/Think of it this way/You could either be successful or be us” feels like a vignette of someone on the run after being kicked out of their home. Even the title becomes a rallying cry of wishing to break free of the confines of prejudice that so many queer people know like the back of their hands. SOAK and Quinn Christopherson, both trans artists, trade verses and backing vocals with Baker, creating a harmony of solidarity that gives Belle & Sebastian’s original words an even more emotional meaning.
…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:
I Wish You All the Best – Mason Deaver – heartbreak, new love, and a desire for a new life.
Even with specific music categories being an illusion kept afloat by critics, I feel like what I’ve heard of Caroline Polachek aligns with my hazy definition of indie pop. It’s theoretically everything that should be popular, but like alternative or mainstream rock, it’s the label or the sensibilities that separates it. In the case of Caroline Polachek, she’s definitely too out there for the Top 40, but make no mistake: in the words of XTC, this is pop (yeah yeah, this is pop, yeah yeah, etc). The pop part is what prevents me from entirely getting into her music; as impressive as her vocal range is, it’s often too polished for me, and sometimes the isolated instrumentals feel like they could belong in a commercial. Not always my cup of tea.
But. But. I can’t not admire how weird she gets with it. I’m not seeing any other pop star willingly turn themselves into a chimera in their music videos, after all. And Polachek has more than a few excellent belts and screams in her. (Plus, she has my immediate respect for, after being called “this generation’s Kate Bush,” responding by saying that “SHE [Kate Bush] is this generation’s Kate Bush. Damn right.) “Dang” gets recommended to me in droves around every 6 months, and I can’t not be compelled by it. When I call it corporate, I mean it as a compliment—it feels like a strange distillation of disinterest and sanitized, company-wide messages saying something on the lines of “we’re all a family.” The intro of garbled vocals, followed by Polachek’s bored delivery of “Dang” feels like the pleas of low-level workers drowned out by an uncaring boss waving them off. “Aww, you don’t have enough to provide for your family? Dang. Get that spreadsheet on my desk by noon.” No wonder Polachek, in this live performance on The Late Show, is presenting an unconventional powerpoint, including but not limited to diagrams about “how many wolves are inside you” and a notes-app apology consisting of a paraphrased version of William Carlos Williams’ “This Is Just to Say.” (I’m wondering about the significance of replacing plums with grapes…maybe it’s not that deep?) Her music as a whole remains a bit too pop-polished for me, but I have nothing but respect for her unconventional spin on it—and her vocal range. The shriek beginning at 1:51? Autotune or not, either way, it’s enough to convince me that this is unedited:
good for you, Caroline…put those geese in their place
…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:
Machinehood – S.B. Divya – corporate disinterest and neglect, with a dose of S.B. Divya’s signature weirdness (and a Christopher Nolan-style thriller).
“A Country Dance” – Joanna Sternberg
I write this as a light snow is falling outside my window, and even though this song was released in August (as was the film it was written for, Between the Temples), it’s so distinctly placed in that period between autumn and winter for me, as far as the sound. “A Country Dance” has a gentle, intimate warmth to it that could only come from the embers of a fireplace in late November or mid-December. It lands on the opposite spectrum of The Shins’ “Black Wave,” which I spoke about around a year ago; seasonally, it’s at the same time, but “Black Wave” feels more like huddling around a fire, exposed to the elements. “A Country Dance” is comfortably cozy, without any notion of the snow biting at your cheeks. For me, good folk music gives you the feeling that you’ve just eaten a stomach-warming, rich holiday dinner—maybe some kind of stew or soup—and that warmth stays in your bones long after you’ve digested it.
I fully thought that “A Country Dance” was a cover—it sounds like it could’ve come out of the ’60s or ’70s, but this is a Sternberg original, and that timelessness is hard to capture—it feels very ’60s and Adrianne Lenker at the same time. (Their music teacher voice certainly contributes to that effect as well.) As the leaves fall off of the trees, this track feels like the perfect antidote to the coming chill—warm, tucked inside of a log cabin, half-asleep and wrapped in woolen blankets. Not every Joanna Sternberg song captures me, but “A Country Dance” honestly makes me feel like the Celestial Seasonings Sleepytime Bear, and that’s not something I’d say about just any song.
…AND A BOOK TO GO WITH IT:
Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow, #3) – Rainbow Rowell – Even if it is tumultuous in places, the quiet Christmas scenes here invoke this song.
Since this post consists entirely of songs, consider all of them to be today’s song.
That’s it for this week’s Book Review Tuesday! Have a wonderful rest of your day, and take care of yourselves!
The Bookish Mutant 