CD Odyssey Disc 1971: The Bangles

What about the album before a band breaks big – can that album be good? In the case of this next band, the answer is yes.

But before we get there, as this is review #1971, here are three great records from the year 1971 for those interested in unrelated things that somehow seem related…

• The Who, “Who’s Next” (Disc 204)
• Led Zeppelin, “IV” (Disc 342)
• Alice Cooper, “Love It to Death” (Disc 604)

Disc 1971 is…All Over the Place

Artist: The Bangles

Year of Release: 1984

What’s up with the Cover? The band hangs out in what might charitably be called a “warehouse style apartment” and what might uncharitably be called simply a warehouse.

Whatever the case they’ve taken over, even having brought in what I presume to be one of those couches that lazy people leave on the side of the road.

Most such furniture just end up on a landfill, but this couch caught the attention of the Bangles. So too did a steel chair, which seems to have attracted the affection of singer and guitarist Susanna Hoffs, who is – literally - sitting pretty.

Particularly observant readers will note that, like Gaston, the Bangles use antlers in all of their decorating.

How I Came To Know It: I discovered the Bangles the way most of the world did, through their 1986 album “Different Light”. This was me digging backwards in their collection years later.

How It Stacks Up: I have two of the Bangles five albums. They are both solid and equal but different. However, this section is not designed for equivocators, so I’ll reluctantly take a stand and put “All Over the Place” in second place.

Ratings: 3 stars

Before they walked like an Egyptian, and before they lamented Mondays, the Bangles were an obscure American pop band trying to make it big. “All Over the Place” never hit top 40 in North America, but that’s more of an indictment of the fickle nature of hit making in pop music, than anything negative about the record. In fact, this record is sneaky good, and my only regret is that teenage me had to wait several decades to discover it.

A band’s first record can sometimes be disjointed as they explore just what ‘sound’ they are going to settle on. While it’s true that “All Over the Place” is a bit, well, all over the place, that’s part of its charm. The record blends eighties radio pop with New Wave and several earlier influences that felt like fifties and sixties pop somewhere between Buddy Holly and the Shangri-Las, with maybe a bit of late sixties psychedelia thrown in for good measure.

The New Wave element reveals itself in songs that jump the beat and infuse the record with a restless energy. Notable in this regard is “James,” which has a lively guitar lick and Hoffs’ vocals at their most playful.

While Hoffs is the person we think of as the Bangles lead singer, there are actually several talented singers in the band, and on their first record they each get their turn. Alongside Hoffs we have sisters Vicki (lead guitar) and Debbi (drums) Peterson taking their turns. Bands with even one strong vocalist aren’t easy to find, and the Bangles have three that can hold their own. This also allows a lot of great harmonies. The variety helps give the record range, although Hoffs vocals are the most distinctive and duskiest.

“Dover Beach” is Hoffs at her best, lilting her way through a late sixties inspired trip, accompanied by Vicki Peterson channeling her inner George Harrison on guitar. The influences on “All Over the Place” aren’t hard to place, but they are applied joyfully and with skill.

The band also has a unique ability to find just the right cover songs for their sound. On this record there are two, the best of which is “Going Down to Liverpool.” Is this version better than the Katrina &the Waves original? Reader it is not, but it is ever bit its equal, and that’s saying something.

The record is full of furiously played three-minute ditties, and is all over in just thirty minutes, well before it ever has a chance to settle down into itself. This is a positive, however, as that restless joyful energy is a big part of the Bangles’ allure. While there are places where the collection of songs lacks an overall focus at the “album” scale, that also kind of fits the overall vibe, making it easy to forgive.

Best tracks: Hero Takes a Fall, James, Dover Beach, Going Down to Liverpool

CD Odyssey Disc 1969: Lana Del Rey

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey. As we’ll be doing for the next 50 or so reviews, here’s a few records I recommend from the year corresponding to the review number.

• Townes Van Zandt, “Our Mother the Mountain” (Disc 236)
• The Beatles, “Abbey Road (Disc 441)
• Leonard Cohen, “Songs from a Room” (Disc 536)

On to a record that I missed upon its release eleven years ago, much to my chagrin now…

Disc 1969 is…Honeymoon

Artist: Lana Del Rey

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? If this is a honeymoon it looks like Lana is out on her own for this part of it. Maybe her partner wasn’t keen on taking the StarLine Cruise and slept in, or maybe they decided to take in a baseball game.

This may sound bad, but I’ve been happily married for a very long time, and there’s nothing wrong with a short stint at different events – gives you something to talk about when you meet up later.

How I Came To Know It: I came late to Lana Del Rey, not giving her more than a passing thought until around 2021. Since then I’ve been devouring her new records and going into her back catalogue with equal zeal. “Honeymoon” was the latter experience.

How It Stacks Up: I have six of Lana Del Rey’s nine studio albums. I don’t know them well enough to definitively rank them, but I was pretty damned impressed with “Honeymoon” and I’m placing it second.

Ratings: 4 stars

Lana Del Rey has a haunting voice that is like sunshine on a cold day, and on “Honeymoon” she pairs her instrument with a set of immersive, moody pop songs that cast a spell that gets more intense on each listen. It left me shaking my head at myself that I’d taken so long to come around to her sound.

Part of this slow seduction is the nature of Del Rey’s music. She sings in a high head voice that creates an otherworldly pop-Goth, drawing you siren-like to her music. These songs aren’t immediate bangers. There’s nary a guitar riff, not even a strum, and the result is a kind of background hum that doesn’t immediately draw your notice. You need to settle down and properly listen before this record will properly reach down inside of you.

Once you’re there, you can appreciate the ghostly, eerily sensual quality of the record. These sequences are like an art film romance, sexy and disconcerting at the same time. If you like your pop music mysterious and a little dangerous, then “Honeymoon” will suit you well.

The title track leads the record off with a starkly beautiful couple of bars of violin – or maybe a synthesizer mimicking a violin. It is hard to tell, and that straddling of the artificial and the deeply emotional is what gives “Honeymoon” a portion of its magic. The song is almost six minutes long, unfurling at a languorous pace, but by the time it is in full flight you’re sorry it has to end so soon.

Like a lot of the songs on the record, the unnamed object of Del Rey’s affections is dangerous, distant and hard to understand. Del Rey paints this dark character with splashes of imagery, tinted by the narrator’s ardor. Best lines:

“There are violets in your eyes
There are guns that blaze around you
There are roses in between my thighs
And fire that surrounds you”

Sexy stuff. Del Rey doubles down on this dangerous desire vibe throughout the record, following up the opener with the sultry sway of “Music to Watch Boys To” another crooner that shows off Del Rey’s high head voice as she sings a call and response of “I like you a lot” and “so I do what you want” leaving you the listener to wonder just what sacrifices are being made in the name of desire. And on it carries through the record, spinning you inward into the depths of human longing.

Later on the record, relationships sour. Tracks like “High by the Beach” are just as deeply introspective, but now they are about creating some distance from destructive influences. The song’s refrain seems to suggest that sometimes you don’t need to get out of your head, so much as you need to get deeper inside of it.

The final track of the record is a cover of the Animals’/Nina Simone’s “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood.” Del Rey does a fine job of it and given all the edgy characters she’s inhabited through the record, it feels a bit on the nose, and not necessary after all the high-quality originals. It’s good but there’s knowing nod to the listener that isn’t necessary. The record operates better in an air of mystery.

However, this is a minor quibble, and by the time you get to this point of the record you are well and truly under Del Rey’s spell. Maybe you need a bit of a landmark pop cover to come back from it, even, and in this regard even its somewhat awkward inclusion serves a purpose.

Best tracks: Honeymoon, Music to Watch Boys To, God Knows I Tried, High By the Beach, Freak, Art Deco, Salvatore

CD Odyssey Disc 1965: Lera Lynn

This next album review doesn’t have a concert component, but I did see this artist live eleven years ago in Nashville. You can read all about it back at Disc 792.

Disc 1965 is…Resistor

Artist: Lera Lynn

Year of Release: 2016

What’s up with the Cover? Angles and shapes, yo! Also Lera’s disembodied head in a circle.

I’m not sure what this cover is going for, but apart from an exploration of rudimentary geometry, it does not land it.

How I Came To Know It: By 2016 I was already three albums deep with Lera, so this was just me buying her latest release and hoping for the best.

How It Stacks Up: I have seven Lera Lynn albums, which I feel is a lot. Of those, I put “Resistor” in at #4, so right in the middle.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Resistor” finds Lera Lynn doubling down on the same “mood music to be murdered to” kind of vibe that worked for her so well on her 2014 record “The Avenues” as well as her contributions to the second season of “True Detective”. It’s a warm and sultry soak in cigarette smoke and whiskey neat.

Sounds alluring – but it doesn’t come easy. “Resistor” is a headphones album – better when you can immerse yourself in it without distraction. As driving albums go it is a forgettable bit of background hum, but if you give it your full attention without the roar of the engine competing with the low notes and it is instantly so much better.

These songs are lounge personified, and while there is a wall of sound quality to it, Lynn’s vocals have an ability to travel through without ever breaking the broader mood.

The opening track, “Shape Shifter” is a bit of a banger, up tempo and with the snap of a snare drum and syncopation that won’t show itself much for the rest of the record. This song is the one tune that throws its hip into the street and invites you to give the rest of the record a chance. It’s a wise opening choice, but don’t expect more of the same, as the remainder of the record will instead retreat into the deeper swells of sound.

These are songs that take their time, and if you’re in a hurry it is going to irritate you. Lynn’s purpose is not to show you vocal gymnastics, nor to hop from one musical concept to another. She’s here for the slow burn, the late-night confessions that come only after the second bottle of wine gets opened.

Lynn’s early records are much more country in style, and through the mist and mystery of her more urbanized self you can still pick out a western twang, particularly on songs like “For the Last Time” and “Slow Motion Countdown”.

The subtle reverberation of “Slow Motion Countdown” features the many and varied dangers of the night: the rattlesnake in the midnight desert out back, and the distant stare from a lover in the booth across from you, both cold-blooded and dangerous. It’s a song about fading love, but more than that, it is a song about the untethered danger of what comes next.

There are places where the whole thing is so atmospheric it almost collapses under the weight of its own coolness, and not every song has the bones to hold the groove on its own. Just a touch more balance toward that earlier twang would have been welcome, but Lynn won’t go back to simpler times any more than the complex and alluring characters she sings about.

In the end “Resistor” is a slow dance of a record that can go a couple of different ways. Awkward and a bit distant if you are only willing to put your hands on its hips and avoid eye contact; evocative and tactile when you embrace it close against you, and surrender to its perilous charms.

Best tracks: Shape Shifter, Cut + Burn, Run the Night, For the Last Time, Slow Motion Countdown

CD Odyssey Disc 1960: Bleached

Today we explore the bittersweet experience of what is likely a band’s last album. Technically this band is still active, but it has been seven years since their last full LP so hope is getting slim. Nevertheless, let’s live in the moment, where that moment is 2019.

Disc 1960 is…Don’t You Think You’ve Had Enough

Artist: Bleached

Year of Release: 2019

What’s up with the Cover? The ladies of Bleached looking sassy and dangerous. Likely ready for a party, although as this record explores, partying doesn’t always end well…

How I Came To Know It: I was already a Bleached fan through their first two albums. This was just me exploring their latest offering.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Bleached albums, which is all of them. Of those, “Don’t You Think You’ve Had Enough” comes in at #2, with a surprise nudging of “Ride Your Heart” in the process.

And since this is the final album in my collection here’s a recap:

1. Welcome the Worms: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1218)
2. Don’t You Think You’ve Had Enough: 3 stars (reviewed right here)
3. Ride Your Heart: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 971)

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

“Don’t You Think You’ve Had Enough” sees sisters Jennifer and Jessica Clavin departing from their earlier fuzzy pop/punk sound toward a cleaner more pop-forward production. It isn’t bad, it’s just evolution. Bands are allowed to do that. If you miss the grittier sound of their previous two records, I have good news for you – both remain available and recorded.

The new sound has them much more aligned to Canadian band the Beaches. Like the Beaches’ Jordan Miller, Jennifer Clavin has a natural rock vocal, not as rich and deep as Miller, but featuring the same combination of rock star and playful pop icon. It had me thinking that the two bands would make a very good 1-2 punch on tour.

Bleached retains their traditional base of garage punk and Go-Gos/Shangri-Las fun on “Don’t You Think…” but also branch out into new territory. On previous reviews I noted their obvious love for Blondie, and that is again evident here, but it is more the later disco-adjacent Blondie. “Hard to Kill” in particular had me thinking of “Heart of Glass”. It isn’t a copy, just an homage, and they take the basic rolling disco rhythm in new directions that results in one of the better songs on the record.

Like a lot of the songs on “Don’t You Think You’ve Had Enough”, “Hard to Kill” explores unhealthy choices and struggles with sobriety in a way that feels on the surface like a party song, but on a closer listen reveals a darkness. There’s a price to be paid when you party this hard, and the record is a retrospective of excess and – not infrequently – regret.

We get a lot more of this as the record progresses, with most of the typical outcomes from an unhealthy relationship with drugs and/or alcohol: bad relationships, betrayed friends, calls to 911, and the inevitable apologies that are part of recovery. It’s been done many times by many rock and rollers before, but that doesn’t take anything away from Bleached, who approach the topic with unabashed honesty and a healthy dose of uncertainty of what comes next.

The album features plenty of pop record tricks, like hand claps and whistles all of which have been deployed on various records throughout the years for one reason: it works. True to form, these little flourishes add colour and texture to songs that aren’t complicated in construction and lend themselves to different treatments. There were a couple of places where one too many tricks and instrumental shifts had me feeling fidgety, but mostly I liked it even when it went too far.

Bleached have a natural ability to write a pop hook, and I admire that they add in elements of doo wop, disco and punk wherever they damned well feel to make it more interesting. There was a part of me that kept thinking other Bleached fans might balk at the adjustments, but I had no problem with the evolution of their sound. It didn’t make their sound any more innovative –likely it made it less so – but it generated a lot of novel approaches to songs that, in their bones, are just solid pop hits that deserve to show off a little.

Best tracks: Hard to Kill, I Get What I Need, Somebody Dial 911, Rebound City, Valley to LA

CD Odyssey Disc 1958: Katy Kirby

Blue Raspberry is one of my favourite “drink” flavours but I always feel that raspberry gets short-changed on the use of red, which is reserved for strawberry (light red) and cherry (dark red). This record has very little to do with drink flavours, but I just had to get that off my chest.

Disc 1958 is…Blue Raspberry

Artist: Katy Kirby

Year of Release: 2024

What’s up with the Cover? Katy (assuming the brunette is Katy) and another person engage in some sort of embrace. Maybe they’re wrestling, maybe Katy is rescuing them from drowning or maybe it is a more amorous adventure. Whether it is sport, a rescue or sex, based on the sun-dappled water it looks like the weather is cooperating. Way easier to do all those things when the waves aren’t too big.

How I Came To Know It: I was already a fan of Kirby having encountered her through her 2021 debut, “Cool Dry Place” (reviewed back at Disc 1726). When I saw she had a new album out a couple of years ago I checked it out and liked what I heard.

How It Stacks Up: Kirby only has two full length records, and if you’re following along you’ll know that I have both of them. Of the two I enjoyed “Blue Raspberry” slightly more, so it is…#1.

Ratings: 4 stars

Katy Kirby has a languid style to her brand of indie pop that leaves you feeling relaxed and ready to see the world in a fresh and unhurried way. This is a record to both relax you musically, while throwing in just enough unexpected imagery that your mind is active and searching for the next line. Also, it’s very sexy.

Kirby’s high sweet vocals shows a lot of range in songs that are all sweet and introspective, but surprisingly variable in how they approach a melody. This record keeps your groove engaged throughout,

The opening track, “Redemption Arc” is even a bit off-brand, sung in her lower register, with a lurching minor key lilt that had me favourably comparing the approach to “Bachelor No. 2” era Aimee Mann. Unlike early Mann, Kirby is a bit more romantic than fatalist, and “Redemption Arc” is an apology song that is more focused on the comfort of making up than the apology itself. You get the sense that all is forgiven without any words spoken, but the words are welcomed all the same.

The record launches into Kirby’s more familiar high head voice on “Cubic Zirconia” which also oozes with a relaxed romanticism that permeates the record. Not content to rely on the record’s catchiest melody and a delightful birdsong phrasing, Kirby throws in some top-tier imagery. Best stanza:

“Face framed by hoodie like an oyster in a shell
And your eyes are rolling at me as a pair of angry pearls
You're the prettiest mermaid in the souvenir shop
But if you're coming home this late
You know you'd better be drunk”

Not something typically wished for, but there is a strong current of sexy that flows through this record that makes even a drunken homecoming feel like a fairy tale. Readers please note: this outcome is rarely the case and only works for the absolutely prettiest mermaids. If you're a merman, just forget about it entirely. Take off your shoes quietly in the hall and sleep on the couch.

But I digress.

“Wait Listen” has a song construction that is reminiscent of Leonard Cohen, both in terms of how the song builds the story as well as the mix of the tender and the bawdy poetry of a memorable hook up.

That ribbon of lyrical sexuality twists like a ribbon through the entirety of “Blue Raspberry” taking a record that could fall into its own introspection and instead making each song a sensual confession.

Kirby re-examines imagery used in earlier songs throughout the record, trying concepts out from different angles like the facets of the fake diamonds she references early on. She will return to the image of the cubic zirconia on “Salt Crystal” along with pearls (now in the mouth not the eyes), and the erotic nature of a well-placed bite (earlier featured in the amorous adventures of “Wait Listen”). Then, as your mind skips along with the sweetness of the melody, Kirby pulls it all together in a golden hour moment with:

“The rhinestones on your baseball cap reminding me of when
The salt left crystal on the sunset of your sunburned skin”

The best part of it all is that with its slow and relaxed style, this clever construction of image upon image slips into your mind slowly, like a cool summer breeze through an open window – invisible but alive on your skin.

Some albums hit you hard and early, but “Blue Raspberry” is a slow build that steals inside of you with a quiet beauty. It might take a few listens to catch everything that’s going on, but it’s worth the effort.

Best tracks: Redemption Arc, Cubic Zirconia, Wait Listen, Salt Crystal

CD Odyssey Disc 1956: The Monks

I’m fresh off an eventful long weekend that had a little bit of everything. There was even a power failure through most of Labour Day Monday. Growing up I experienced many a power failure, often in the winter and lasting several days. Given this, a few hours without TV on a sunny holiday Monday was no problem at all. I just caught up on some reading and set some time aside for a full and undivided listen to this next record.

Disc 1956 is…Suspended Animation

Artist: The Monks

Year of Release: 1981

What’s up with the Cover? The Monks only have two albums and both feature covers with women dressed up as nuns and showing a lot of leg.

Here we have a 'nun' apparently awakening from cryo-sleep (the “suspended animation” alluded to in the album title). Looks like she’s arrived at her destination based on the space station in the porthole window. We don't know how many light years have passed in her journey across space but fear not: simple black pumps never go out of style.

How I Came To Know It: I like the Monks’ first record “Bad Habits” and through that discovered they’d done a second. However, “Suspended Animation” was devilishly hard to find, suffering from low album sales and – I suspect - a limited release.

Eventually I found it on a double album set with both records and a whole bunch of bonus material called, “No Shame: The Complete Recordings”. That compilation’s album art is just the band standing around looking like early eighties mods.

Choosing between that and the long-limbed space traveler depicted on the original was a no-brainer.

How It Stacks Up: I have two Monks albums, which is all of them. Of the two “Suspended Animation” is the lesser record, so #2.

Ratings: 2 stars

Listening to “Suspended Animation” had me thinking that the Monks were a bunch of slackers. Very talented slackers. Their follow up to their much better debut record, the Monks seem prepared to dabble in various musical ideas like a bunch of cheeky dilettantes. Sometimes it works, sometimes it don’t.

The style of the record is mostly a New Wave/post punk feel that was of its time back at the turn from the seventies to the eighties. A bit Joe Jackson, a bit the Clash at the poppier end of their range, but mostly just a bunch of experienced English musicians taking the piss.

Like the Clash, there is a reggae influence on the record in places, and the Monks also seem determined to try to land some funky bass lines and guitar licks. It would work better if the songs weren’t so uniformly at the front of the beat. That’s the New Wave in them, and they consistently refuse to sit down in the pocket.

So you get songs like “Don’t Want No Reds” that could have been a semi-serious song about Cold War angst but instead feels like a funhouse vision of looming nuclear winter. The haste of the beat makes you think that the reds they are avoiding could just as easily be pharmaceuticals as Communist agents.

From there they uncork a wide array of topics, most of which more than live up to the compilation’s title of “No Shame”. Scheming evangelicals, BDSM enthusiasts, and eating disorders are just a few of the themes you will encounter. There’s a good chance if you listen to this record something will offend you but I’m not going to predict what, as it is a target-rich environment.

This being a “complete recordings” situation the original record’s 12 tracks are ‘augmented’ by eight bonus tracks, pushing the playing time to an unwieldy and tiring 75 minutes. I’d like to say they should have just cut all that content, but the truth is some of it is pretty solid, notably “Cybernetic Sister” which has the easy groove blended with what I think is someone exhorting the virtues of a sex-bot.

Through it all, the Monks know how to write a catchy pop hook. I imagine they take a bit of perverse pride in combining sing-a-long quality to lyrics that would likely get you kicked out of the local karaoke bar.

The final two bonus tracks, “Space Noises” and “Electric Shivers” remove all doubt about who the Monks are mocking. It’s everyone, and with these two instrumentals of weird special effects sounds their final victim is, in fact, the listener.

Sitting confused at the end of the long listening journey, and with the echoes of weird computer trills and metallic clangs bouncing in my head, I was not quite sure what to think. It is the musical equivalent of a Jimmy Carr concert; the catchy phrasing draws you in, you laugh at some parts and wince at others, and the next day you can’t even talk about what you heard in mixed company.

Was it all just performance art in the end? Probably yes.

Best tracks: Don’t Want No Reds, Suspended Animation, King Dong and from the bonus tracks: Cybernetic Sister

CD Odyssey Disc 1947: The Head and the Heart

I usually review an album on Saturday but I’m getting an early start on this one so that I can remove it from my car, my MP3 player, and my life.

Disc 1947 is…Aperture

Artist: The Head and the Heart

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? Indistinct silhouettes in the fading light. This cover has very little to recommend it, which is not unlike my experience with this record.

How I Came To Know It: I first heard Head and the Heart in 2010 when they released their eponymous debut. I liked that record quite a bit, and over the years it’s afterglow has caused me to give their new releases a chance. Sometimes I like them, more often I don’t. I gave “Aperture” half a listen to and figured was good enough to buy.

How It Stacks Up: The Head and the Heart have six studio albums and I own three of them. Of those three, “Aperture” comes in at #3.

Ratings: 2 stars

“Aperture” is a perfectly pleasant 45 minutes of your life, as long as you don’t expect too much and don’t listen too hard. Since that’s not at all how I approach music, my experience was somewhere south of pleasant.

It’s my own fault. I explore a lot of new music in a year, and while an album gets my full and undivided attention when I review it, my first listen can sometimes find me distracted, with the music a bit in the background, as I wait for it to grab my attention. “Aperture” never grabbed my attention, but it felt consistently OK, and I figured it would grow on me.

Instead, this record revealed itself to be a surface beauty only. That girl at the bar that at a glance you want to talk to until you, you know, actually talk to her.

The record is easy early, with vocals that have a lovely tone that is smooth and rich, with production to match. However, it is all a bit too produced – too much smooth and not enough rich. The effect feels a bit “singing competition” for me, losing much of the edge of their 2010 release. They are without one of the cofounders these days (Josiah Johnson). This could be part of the challenge, but having only dabbled off and on with the Head and the Heart over the years, I don’t feel sufficiently informed to say.

Beyond this, there were two things that set me off in the wrong direction: the structure of the songs and the lyrics. Those are two pretty big things, and no amount of smooth production or silky vocals was going to fix it.

First, the song structures, which have lost the band’s indie creativity and just feel like any generic song you’re likely to hear on pop radio. It took me to a bad headspace of being out later in the evening at a music festival, where some “next new thing” band has drunken concert goers chanting along to deliberately constructed “singalong” chorus moments. And not the good “Frank Turner” singalong that draws you out with poetic inspiration, but more the manipulative kind based on a catchy rhythm and little else.

I like festivals, but that moment where the experience switches from being about the music and becomes about being there and taking photos of yourself to prove it (usually around 7-8 p.m.) is my least favourite window. It just feels like the soul of the show empties out, and realizing my feet hurt and, unable to face another Sunday evening port-a-potty, I turn and go. Behind me I imagine some stock anthem pop to keep the masses entertained and drinking, but before the headliner takes the stage. That’s this record.

The lyrics were my other challenge, with song after song being a cobbling together of cliché imagery and generalities. Probably lots of music I like has this problem, but all I can say is here is where I noticed it. “Nothing left to lose”, “someone’s gonna break your heart again/that’s just proof that you’re alive”, “I’m gonna tell you straight from the heart” and on it goes.

Not the only place you’ll encounter these shortcuts but combined with very “by the book” music you get the impression of a band taking exactly zero artistic chances. By the time the final song (“Aperture”) sang out these fateful lines:

“You get tired of hearing “it is what it is”
You’ll never rise above it”

I was thinking my own cliché in response – ‘I couldn’t agree more’.

There are bright spots here and there. The songs may be unimaginative but they’re not jarring or outright terrible. “Cop Car” is a little gem of a tune about getting arrested that captures some of the band’s early magic.

But there aren’t enough of these moments and mostly I was bored, and ready to leave early. And so here’s a Friday evening review where I’m doing just that.

Best tracks: Beg Steal or Borrow, Cop Car

CD Odyssey Disc 1943: Sunflower Bean

Welcome to the weekend, dear readers! I have a few chores to run today and when that is done it’ll be time for some much-needed relaxation and decompressing with my lovely partner.

Before any chores, however, we must honour the hierarchy of needs, CD Odyssey style. It’s similar to Maslow’s but music comes first and so…a review before brunch.

Disc 1943 is…Mortal Primetime

Artist: Sunflower Bean

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? Just another night hanging out with Sunflower Bean playing Vampire: Masquerade. And if every few months someone doesn’t come home from a session, who’s to question it?

Lead singer Julia Cumming has gone from blonde to black hair for her deep dive into Gothic mystery. Regardless of hair colour, sign me up for the next gaming session. Leave my phone at home and don’t tell anyone where I am? Whatever you say, Julia!

How I Came To Know It: I have been a fan since discovering this band through their second album, “Twentytwo in Blue” and have been following their career ever since. “Mortal Primetime” is just me doing that.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Sunflower Bean records. I was very much prepared to give “Mortal Primetime” top spot but I see I scored “Twentytwo in Blue” at 4/5. Although it’s close, I’m going to honour that decision of yesteryear. That puts “Mortal Primetime” at #2, but still easily displacing the relatively disappointing “Headful of Sugar”.

Here’s the full recap in case you are inspired to a deeper dive:

1. Twentytwo in Blue: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1230)
2. Mortal Primetime: 3 stars (reviewed right here)
3. Headful of Sugar: 3 stars (reviewed at Disc 1605)

Ratings: 3 stars but almost 4

“Mortal Primetime” is a record that straddles the line between mainstream pop and indie rock. These are two well-worn roads, and while Sunflower Bean don’t take any major chances, the record shows a band that has evolved their influences into something that belongs intrinsically to them.

Like all Sunflower Bean records, “Mortal Primetime” rides on the under-appreciated star power of lead singer Julia Cumming. Cumming has charisma to spare, and it translates into her singing voice, which is confident, emotive, and sweet with just the right amount of mist around the edges to give the record the Gothic feel it is going for.

Take note, however: if you are expecting Gothic at the Evanescence or Type O Negative, please lower your expectations and put the black lipstick away. This is more Gothic lite, with the twee observations and pop sensibilities of Rilo Kiley, mixed with the pale and wan undercurrent of an Emily Bronte novel.

Also like a Rilo Kiley album, there are a couple of songs where Julia takes a step back for a secondary singer – in this case guitarist Nick Kivlen. Like a Blake Sennett song on a Rilo Kiley album makes you pine for Jenny Lewis, when Kivlen came on I found myself immediately fidgeting while I waited for Cumming’s return. One of Kivlen’s songs – “Please Rewind” – is particularly saccharine. That phrase should be buried alongside all the VHS tapes from Blockbuster.

Fortunately, Cumming more than compensates, delivering her best vocal performance to date. The record’s opener, “Champagne Taste” has a fist-pumping anthem quality to it, and Cumming is flirty but tough in her vocal delivery. Kivlen’s guitars on this song are also top-notch (more on this later).

The band then shows their stylistic range on “Nothing Romantic”. Here Cumming’s voice is sweet, light and tinged with sadness as she sings the chorus of:

“There’s nothing romantic in being alone
I don’t wanna be the last lonely soul
Sitting at the bar drinking alone
Waiting for God to take me home”

I heard heavy overtones of Jarmusch’s 2013 vampire movie, “Only Lovers Left Alive”. Maybe that’s just me getting influenced by the cover, but that was my connection. Yours may be more mundane or personal such as a heartbreak of the more human kind (the album’s title is “Mortal Primetime”, after all). Whatever your reaction, Cumming’s evocative vocals express a human (or inhuman) longing that will get into your bloodstream.

And despite the shade I earlier threw on some of the Kivlen vocals, he is a talented guitar player with a lot of range. He can drop a rock-ready riff, a pop trill that tucks in as a perfect partner to Cumming’s vocals, and even bluesy tones when that’s needed. On “There’s a Part I Can’t Get Back” Kivlen is at his best, dropping some tones on the axe that are downright Buck Dharma adjacent. Long time readers will know this is high praise.

Overall, “Mortal Primetime” is a record that shows positive growth for the band, and a deeper understanding of what kind of music they want to make. It has less full-on pop bangers than “Twentytwo in Blue” but is arguably the more well-rounded record. A true return to form from a band that looks like they have plenty of creative juice left in the tank.

Best tracks: Champagne Taste, Nothing Romantic, I Knew Love, Take Out Your Insides, There’s a Part I Can’t Get Back

CD Odyssey Disc 1942: Miya Folick

Welcome back, readers. This past weekend I spent my Sunday at the Vancouver Folk Festival which was a delightful musical journey enjoyed in the company of good friends. Plus thousands of people I didn’t know, of course.

The highlight of the show was Anna Tivel, who I heartily recommend to any lovers of folk music out there. Great live, with a lyrical storytelling quality that exists both within her music and the stories she tells in between.

It was also great to see Ken Pomeroy (for the first time) and Tami Nielson (for the second) and just generally enjoy a day of music and companionship.

On to the review…

Disc 1942 is…Erotica Veronica

Artist: Miya Folick

Year of Release: 2025

What’s up with the Cover? A dirt-covered Miya Folick, dressed only in her underwear, strikes an awkward pose.

Is this the morning after a bad night out, or has Folick dug her way out of some shallow grave?

Either way, she seems to be emerging from some kind of harrowing experience and I hope she’s OK. Unless she’s a zombie. Then it isn’t that I don’t wish that she’s OK, but I will just do so at a distance. Safety first!

How I Came To Know It: I became a fan in 2018 when I heard her “Premonitions” record and I’ve been a fan since. This was just me buying her latest release.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Miya Folick records, and of those three one must be last. That one is “Erotica Veronica”.

As this is the final (for now) Miya Folick record currently in my collection, here’s a recap:

1. ROACH: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1687)
2. Premonitions: 4 stars (reviewed at Disc 1608)
3. Erotica Veronica: 3 stars (reviewed right here)

Ratings: 3 stars

Folick writes thoughtful indie pop music, in a genre that is sort of a slow-jam low key lounge kind of style. It isn’t a style that typically catches my attention but her songwriting is top notch and her melodies are both catchy and unexpected.

Her third record, “Erotica Veronica,” is all those things, although the overall quality of the songs here are a step down from her previous two efforts. Not bad by any stretch, but less powerful overall.

Folick’s vocals remain strong, and she has a whisper to her voice that augments the sweetness of her pop delivery, without overwhelming it. That bit of whisper is what gives all her songs – even the ones I liked less – a magnetic quality as she pushes and pulls you through various emotional states, often within a single song.

The record begins with “Erotica”, which has a twee sort of fairytale quality to it, setting a dreamy tone that echoes through the record. This song is deeply romantic overall, but there’s a distance to it (maybe it’s the echo in the production) that made me feel slightly distant from the vibe Folick is trying to establish.

Arrangement-wise, the record is standard pop fare, with guitar, piano and some string flourishes where called for. There is one unfortunate moment of extended jazz flute on “Felicity” that I could live without, but otherwise I had no serious complaint.

There is also a lean into the drum machine in a couple places (notably, again, on “Felicity”) where I would have preferred a more organic touch. However, that is a part of the soundscape of “Erotica Veronica” and I realized if I spent too much time second guessing the guy on the keyboard/synth I’d be missing out on a lot of thoughtful music.

“Fist” was more my speed, and I’m sure the “good ole regular” guitar strum didn’t hurt in this regard. I also like the way this song can shift from a skip-in-the-step sprung phrasing, combined with long sweeping flourishes that naturally flow into a flourish that feels a bit like ocean waves crashing into the shore. Folick songs like “Fist” go through a lot of movements in the short time available to a pop song.

While the record is solidly indie pop there are undertones of smooth R&B at work. This creates a tension with the folksy narrative quality of the lyrics, like a dance song that never quite lifts you past sway-mode. There’s nothing wrong with sway-mode but living in that crossover area of styles can be both innovative and dangerous. It isn’t that Folick falters while navigating that tricky space, but most songs lacked the edge of previous work. The intense yearning and vulnerability in her voice still won me over, but I admit some of that yearning was an echo from her previous efforts.

And for this reason, despite the favourable three-star rating, and no serious criticism (other than the one bit of jazz flute), I was left wanting just a little more.

Best tracks: Fist, This Time Around, Prism of Light

CD Odyssey Disc 1940: Olivia Rodrigo

When I was young I didn’t trust anything I perceived as being too popular. I missed out on a lot of good music as a result. Frankly, I still do,.

This next artist is monster popular to a degree rarely seen on the Odyssey, but I’ve managed to get past this. Talent has that effect.

Disc 1940 is… …Guts

Artist: Olivia Rodrigo

Year of Release: 2023

What’s up with the Cover? The arrestingly pretty Olivia Rodrigo flashes us a vampish glance.

Does she, as the album title suggests, have guts? Why yes, all over her hand in fact in the form of her jewelry and – spoiler alert – all over this record in the form of her songs.

How I Came To Know It: A friend put me onto Rodrigo’s debut record. This one was me just buying her latest, having been previously hooked.

How It Stacks Up: I have three Olivia Rodrigo albums, which is all of them. They are all good, and it is hard to pick a favourite, but I’m going to pick “Guts” as mine. At least for now.

Ratings: 4 stars but almost 5

It would be hard to predict Olivia Rodrigo would immediately top the brilliance of 2021’s “Sour” but here she is on record #2, topping it. On “Guts” we see an artist growing before our eyes, with edgier songs, more range of production and theme and a pop-perfect voice that is bigger and more badass than ever.

Some artists are “old souls” but there is also greatness in an artist that is just unapologetically and perfectly situated in their own age, and their own place. They’re comparable to nothing other than their own immediate experience, with a magnetism that pulls the listener inexorably into their orbit. This is the universe that Olivia Rodrigo invites us into.

On “Sour” we encountered a teenage Rodrigo, exploring coming of age, and on “Guts” we are treated to a woman leaving her teens, blossoming into the beauty and majesty of the world with all its marvels and devils.

Before I go any further, I am compelled to note that more than half the songs on this record are straight up A+ bangers as well. There’s no need to explore the inner depths of the adult world without having some effervescent sing-a-long action while you do it. Enjoy!

The opener, “All-American Bitch” is an excellent example, a song that bounces between a folksy guitar pluck and a crunchy B section of thump and crash that had me imagining Avril Lavigne at her peak.

“All-American Bitch” is also an early signal that “Guts” is a masterclass of production and arrangement. The song showcases Rodrigo’s sweet pop vocals, also shows she can rock out, and leaves the listener reveling in the repeated shifts between styles. The first time you hear it, it surprises you, and every time thereafter you have the delicious anticipation of expecting them. The more you listen, the more fun it gets. That’s pop at its best.

“Bad Idea, Right?” is an example of Rodrigo taking on more mature themes. In this case – a booty call she knows is a bad idea, but makes anyway. The song is playful and joyful, but it’s also a cautionary tale.

“Vampire” comes next. Just like the structure of an individual pop song, the album knows to put the best song tastefully in third place. Far enough in to leave you anticipatory every time you drop the needle, near enough that you don’t have time to start fidgeting about it.

Whoever “Vampire” is about (and theories abound) it is a master class in pacing, melodic structure, lyrical brilliance and a stunning showcase of every corner of Rodrigo’s vocals. You’ll hear power, phrasing, and sweetness, all wrapped in a churning undercurrent of regret and anger. You will also be compelled to sing along every time you hear this. When you do, please sing the real lyrics – with all the curse words – and not the irritating radio sanitized version. Fortunately only the “real” version is on the record.

While Rodrigo has plenty of vitriol for those that have wronged her, it is also an unflinching look inward. “Bad Idea, Right?” shows that even the smartest girls get urges, and “Making the Bed” is a song about owning your shit. Becoming a star this massive at such a young age can’t be easy, but Rodrigo embraces the self-exploration of all of it – the change, the effect it has on you and in the end, the recognition that whether we are behaving at our best or our worst, it’s still our choice at each step of the journey.

On “Making the Bed” you can see a talented singer-songwriter who finds herself in a very big moment and is not only up for the challenge, but aware and confident enough to share a song about it.

A shout-out is in order for Rodrigo’s songwriting collaborator and album producer Dan Nigro. Nigro pulls every single pop album trick in the book on “Guts”. He skillfully navigates through shifts in different instrumentation: sometimes piano, sometimes guitar, sometimes percussion. Usually it’s a seamless progression of several movements, all blended seamlessly in a three-minute pop song. Making songs this catchy is not as easy as Nigro makes it sound.

My only regret is looking back to discover I put “Guts” at #10 on my Best Albums of 2023 list.

It should be higher.

Best tracks: All-American Bitch, Bad Idea Right?, Vampire, Lacy, Ballad of a Homeschooled Girl, Making the Bed, Get Him Back!

CD Odyssey Disc 1936: Queen Kwong

Happy Canada Day! I feel lucky every day to live in this vast and amazing country full of natural beauty, human opportunity and wonderful music.

As long-time readers will know I don’t favour artists based on country of origin, and I roll my reviews randomly, so even on Canada Day I don’t select a Canadian artist. Up next, a talented American singer/songwriter.

Disc 1936 is…Couples Only

Artist: Queen Kwong

Year of Release: 2022

What’s up with the Cover? Carre Kwong Callaway (aka Queen Kwong) holds a balloon. With her face partially obscured by the balloon it is hard to read her expression, but the balloon lets us know she may be thinking about a cat she loves. I, too, love cats.

I ordered this album through Bandcamp and this cover is personalized by Callaway, including both a signature and that balloon message (the actual cover just has a blank balloon – no words). This makes my album cover unique, which is kinda cool. Queen Kwong also sent me a sticker, so thanks for the personal touch!

On the back of the CD sleeve Kwong also added the message “Thank you for the support!” and a graphic of a cat exhorting me to “play it loud!”. You're welcome, and will do.

How I Came To Know It: My lovely, talented partner Sheila (of Ephemera fame) introduced me to Queen Kwong – thanks, Sheila!

How It Stacks Up: I have two Queen Kwong albums. I like them about equally and for slightly different reasons, but if forced to choose – which is literally what this section is doing – I put “Couples Only” in at #1.

This is not – as you may charge – cheating. Honestly re-assessing your position based on all that you know in the moment, and not relying on an artificial construct established from, say, a review you wrote on Canada Day 2026, is a fundamental principle of living an examined life. Ask Sartre or Camus and they’ll fill you in on the details.

Ratings: 3 stars

Queen Kwong is a talented singer-songwriter who explores the space between pop, rock and electronic music in creative and mentally stimulating ways. This space is a busy intersection of sound, however, and sometimes the traffic can get a bit congested if you’re a fan of sparse production like I am.

The record starts with a trio of what would end up being the best tracks, and also a good cross-section of the range to expect stylistically on the record.

“I Know Who You Are” is a mix of atmospheric reverb guitar and a funky synth beat. Kwong’s vocals are part singing/part spoken word with a bunch of overdub or at least a mic effect that mirrors it. This is music for underground after-hours lounges where men in tight shirts show off their tattooed pipes and women sit on old brocade couches and let their skirts ride up while pretending not to notice. It sounds, in a word, cool.

Lyrically, “I Know Who You Are” is also what you’d expect, with undercurrents of desire, betrayal and a whole lot of drama. Sit on that couch and introduce yourself at your peril, because you’re going to hear a lot of dirt about a lot of people you don’t know.

“EDMR ATM” follows this up, doubling down on the moody, sexy, and unsettling intersection of the opener. This song also doubles down on the grievance theme, with a refrain of “Gave up my baby and the homewrecker won.” Even without context this sounds like an awful experience all around. Fun random fact: On the first couple of listens I misheard the lyrics and thought Kwong was singing “gave up my baby and a whole rack of wine” which had me thinking that maybe the implied couple had been into wine and that this was a bone of contention during the breakup.

Rounding out the trifecta of the album’s great opener is “Sad Man” which has Kwong imagining an aging singer bemoaning their failure to make it big and having to playing shitty dive bars instead. This song showcases Kwong’s talent as a spoken word poet, with some of the strongest imagery and a clear delivery that imparts the weary exasperation of the titular character.

The latter half of the record plays off these early-established themes but lacks the same degree of focus things start with. The saturated production starts to edge into further degrees of experimentation, some of which lands and some of which feels unnecessarily diffuse.

Kudos, however, to late record highlight “On the Run” at Track 8, which brings in an early sixties crooner/doo wop beat that makes you want to sway with your girl at the Grad ’64 prom. It’s a song that’s just as full of heartache and pain of what comes before but has a romantic streak that the record needs in that moment.

The trio of songs that wrap the record following “On the Run” are not as strong, descending into the production soup, but stylistically similar enough to have me longing for what came before. Even in these moments where things get busy or a bit too “EDM-adjacent” for my personal taste, I still admired the architecture of the song. In the end, while this record isn’t typically what is in my wheelhouse, it still won me over.

Best tracks: I Know Who You Are, EDMR ATM, Sad Man, On the Run