I posted the following to Facebook last month—I think it’s a good fit for this blog as well.

I recently listened to Devon Gilfillian’s excellent 2020 re-recording of Marvin Gaye’s legendary 1971 album What’s Going On. It’s one reminder of how much we still live in the United States of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. Political texts from that era like MLK’s Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community? remain cutting edge in their prescriptions for society’s problems. The political and social upheavals of that time were very much an unfinished revolution.

From What’s Going On, I was particularly moved by the track “Save The Children” with its simple and straightforward message that includes the lines, “Who really cares, who’s willing to try/To save a world that’s destined to die.” Considering today’s ecological crises, this bleak sentiment seems truer than ever. But I think Gaye intends “destined” to be read as hyperbole. What’s Going On strikes me as more hopeful than grim.

Most of us care about the planet and about each other. The world can be rescued and we ought to try.

The following was written in 2021 and published here for the first time.

Obviously begins with the exciting possibilities of a potential romance on the track “Hypotheticals.” Later, a relationship’s flame burns out in the wrenching “Anymore.” Lake Street Dive draw on a variety of genres including pop, rock, R&B, and soul. Different songs have different sounds (a relationship’s beginnings on “Hypotheticals” sounds different than its endings on “Anymore”), but they are not so different as to make the album seem disjointed, and lead singer Rachael Price provides an anchor.

A sequence of three songs—“Being a Woman,” “Making Do,” and “Nobody’s Stopping You Now”—explore the personal as political and the political as personal. In these songs, thematic and sonic power build on each other to stunning effect. On “Being a Woman” (about gender inequality) and “Making Do” (about climate change and other collapses that will worsen over time), the lyrics are simple, straightforward, and poignant. While there is nothing thematically cheerful about these two songs, “Nothing’s Stopping You Now” (about the opportunity to break out of gender norms) is clearly optimistic.

I had been meaning to dig into the Lake Street Dive catalogue for years, but this is the first full album that I’ve listened to. It’s (obviously) left me hungry for more.

The following was written in 2021 and published here for the first time.

Perhaps there is something inherently melodramatic about breakup songs, but Olivia Rodrigo’s debut album Sour is also notably balanced. “déjà vu” and “good 4 u”—both excellent tracks—are angry and sarcastic, but “traitor” opts for a sadder tone of devastation. On “happier,” Rodrigo seems mostly genuine in wishing her ex happiness in his new relationship, the song hinging on the clever line, “I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier.” The blockbuster single “drivers license” is a slow burn, earning its moments of highest intensity—and its place as one of our era’s standout pop songs. “drivers license” is an ambivalent breakup song; despite her feeling of abandonment, Rodrigo is sorry that her friends will never know her ex like she did. But the song’s greatest strength is its relatability for many—it feels like what it feels like to be a late teenager disappointed in the suburbs.

Sour also achieves a successful musical balance, adeptly drawing on different shades from the palette of pop and rock to match each track’s subtly different mood. The album’s poignant closing song, “hope ur ok,” looks ahead with hope for two friends going through struggles. While in some ways a thematic departure, it is of a piece with the rest of the album in its attempt to come to terms with the difficulties of growing up. And on this final track, Rodrigo wishes her friends the best in charting a path forward. Sour is a strikingly well-conceived and well-executed debut—and you don’t even have to know anything about whatever drama there may be on the set of High School Musical: The Musical: The Series.

Three years to the day since our last post, Music, Etc. has returned! First, a trio of posts dipping back to the past. The following was written in 2021 and published here for the first time.

When I was having a plethora of problems this spring, the release of the singles “Safe Passage” and “Church Girl” by Laura Mvula seemed like a bit of a godsend. Mvula strives to “find a way to safe passage” in that standout track and, in “Church Girl,” asks “how can you dance with the devil on your back?” I knew that I couldn’t but thought the music might help me give the devil the slip. 

The full Pink Noise album was released in July, with songs addressing love, politics, and hope. Influenced by the music of the ‘80s, the album highlights Mvula’s strength as a composer as well as her vocal talent and versatility. Album opener “Safe Passage” is followed by the explosive “Conditional.” “What Matters,” a duet with Simon Neil, uses synths to set a calm romantic mood. On the blistering “Remedy,” Mvula addresses deadly white supremacy, asking “how many more must die before the remedy?” 

Album closer “Before The Dawn” begins and ends with Fleet Foxes-style harmonies but sounds thoroughly ‘80s in the middle. Mvula thrillingly sings, “I been praying on the inside/for a sign on the outside/don’t doubt for too long/it’s the darkest before the dawn.” Her search for safe passage feels realized.

Stylistically era-spanning, Future Nostalgia is an appropriate title for this highly danceable pop album. The brilliant “Don’t Start Now” sounds very contemporary, although there are some throwback disco elements as well (Wikipedia describes the track as “nu-disco”), and it’s probably not a coincidence that the lyric “Aren’t you the guy who tried to hurt me with the word goodbye?” mirrors Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” (“Weren’t you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?”). Warm synths, sharp percussion, and Dua Lipa’s urgent vocals animate “Cool”, a song-of-the-summer contender. I think I can detect some Carly Rae Jepson influence on “Cool,” while “Physical” is Gaga-esq. But make no mistake: Lipa is a unique artist, and the combination of multiple eras and influences creates an original sound. I suppose “Don’t Start Now” and “Cool” are my standouts, but each track brings something to the table, and Future Nostalgia gels together as a whole. So, throw on the album, dance with your friends on Zoom, and create some nostalgia for the future.

For parts of 2017 and ’18, I hosted a music program called Crossroads on WECI, my college’s radio station. One of the shows I enjoyed the most was Beatle-themed, taking a few tracks from Abbey Road and Let It Be as “points of departure” for selections from the solo work of former Beatles. I haven’t listened to the complete solo Beatles catalog so I can’t claim that this is the “definitive” best hour, even by my own subjective standards. However, I hope this gives a flavor of John, Paul, George, and Ringo’s individual accomplishments.

1. Across the Universe—The Beatles—Let It Be
2. Golden Slumbers—The Beatles—Abbey Road
3. Carry That Weight—The Beatles—Abbey Road
4. The Long and Winding Road—The Beatles—Let It Be
5. Run of the Mill—George Harrison—All Things Must Pass
6. Art of Dying—George Harrison—All Things Must Pass
7. Imagine—John Lennon—Imagine
8. Gimme Some Truth—John Lennon—Imagine
9. Watching the Wheels—John Lennon—Double Fantasy
10. Maybe I’m Amazed—Paul McCartney—McCartney
11. Hope of Deliverance—Paul McCartney—Off the Ground
12. Too Much Rain—Paul McCartney—Chaos and Creation in the Backyard
13. Time—Ringo Starr—Y Not
14. Everyone Wins—Ringo Starr—Y Not
15. Stuck Inside a Cloud—George Harrison—Brainwashed
16. Marwa Blues—George Harrison—Brainwashed
17. The End—The Beatles—Abbey Road

There was a period of time as a kid that I effectively refused to listen to anything but Elton John. This obsession began upon hearing the compilation Greatest Hits: 1970-2002 and led to purchasing CDs of John’s classic albums from the 1970s, such as Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and Don’t Shoot Me I’m Only the Piano Player. I also picked up Peachtree Road around the time of its release in 2004 and listened to snippets of 2006’s The Captain and the Kid on the music sampling device at my local Barnes and Noble. For me, these later albums formed a key part of the Elton John canon, a distinct but equal contribution as the music from his early-mid ‘70s heyday. Here, I’ll take a look back at those two albums, as well as 2001’s Songs from the West Coast, which completes the set of Elton John studio albums from the 2000s. 

Songs from the West Coast (2001)

Released before Elton John rocketed into my consciousness, this album is new to me. As the title suggests, Elton John and lyricist Bernie Taupin alchemize their personal American west; John’s characteristic smoothness is spiked with southwest seasoning. “I Want Love” and “This Train Don’t Stop There Anymore,” which were released as singles, are perfectly executed pop songs. But even these tracks are gritty, country-influenced and pessimistic. John is “shot full of holes” and wants “a love that don’t mean a thing.” On “This Train,” Taupin plays a clever trick, alluding to the heartstring-tugging melodies that he and John created over the years:

All the things I’ve said in songs/All the purple prose you bought from me/Reality’s just black and white/The sentimental things I’d write/Never meant that much to me

Lyric via Genius

Much of the rest of the album is stimulatingly off-kilter. From the rhythmic, and very early-00s sounding “Dark Diamond” to the blues-based “The Wasteland,” there’s a distinct element in just about every track. Some are imperfect, but that’s a result of experimentation, and the imperfection makes the album feel like an album. Also not to be missed are the epics “Mansfield” and “Ballad of the Boy in the Red Shoes.” 

Peachtree Road (2004)

On Peachtree Road, Elton John provides a brilliant example of a vocalist modifying their style to match shifts in their range. There are no falsetto la, la, la, la, las here; instead, John’s deep, rich lower register is the star. This time, John and Taupin conjure a version of the American south. Soul music is the predominant influence, although country still plays a role, especially on the excellent “Turn the Lights Out When You Leave.” The success of and problems with utilizing southern imagery are illustrated on “Porch Swing in Tupelo.” It’s an evocative, well-written track, but it is also, frankly, reactionary:

And this place don’t change/Some places move slow/I’m just rocking myself on this porch swing in Tupelo/I got nothing to do ‘cept hang in the breeze/Ghosts of the old south are all around me”  

Lyric via Apple Music

A papering over of oppressive histories is part of the package deal in evoking the myths of the American south and west, and it is the problematic element of John and Taupin’s outsider Americanism.

Peachtree Road is less stylistically diverse than Songs from the West Coast, instead setting an atmosphere diffused throughout the album by John’s vocals backed by guitars, orchestration, choruses, and, of course, piano. Two of the most affecting tracks are the love songs “My Elusive Drug” and “I Can’t Keep This from You.” Although the search for love remains, the album’s central message is one of earned contentment.

The Captain and the Kid (2006)

There’s a brilliant section of lyric in “Postcards from Richard Nixon,” the song that kicks off the album, in which Bernie Taupin seems to be cramming in as many California references as he can fit:

Our heroes led us by the hand/Through Brian Wilson’s promised land/Where Disney’s God and he commands/Both mice and men to stay

Lyric via Apple Music

That’s happy enough, but there’s a dark side, too:

Richard Nixon’s on his knees/He’s sent so many overseas/He’d like to know if you and me could help him in some way/A little camouflage and glue/To mask the evil that men do/A small diversion caused by two

Stylistically modified based on Apple Music’s lyrics

John and Taupin are, of course, the diversion, making “Postcards” a fascinating reframing of the songwriters’ own past. A feature of this album is limited production; John’s piano is the instrumental driving force, as showcased on the rollicking “Just Like Noah’s Ark.” “The Bridge” was the first track that captured my attention years ago, and it remains poignant, if melodramatic. The title track alludes to the 1975 Elton John album Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirty Cowboy. John is Captain (Fantastic); Taupin is The Kid/Brown Dirt Cowboy. Is the track self-indulgent? Sure. But it’s also catchy, comfortable, and well-written. 

As a whole, the 2000s section of the Elton John catalogue can be characterized as south-western geographically, backward-looking thematically, and innovative stylistically, incorporating new elements and setting new moods. Take a listen.

Justin Bieber’s Changes begins with three spacious, understated tracks that settle the listener in. You might imagine yourself in a mood-lit lounge surrounded by Bieber’s disembodied voice. The atmospheric effect is reflected in the title of the first track, “All Around Me.” Then the shades are lifted and sunlight hits with “Intentions,” which features Quavo. As I wrote in a previous post, Bieber is smooth, Quavo fits in well, and, I should add, the track is quite effective both as a single and as part of the album. “Yummy” follows—it’s a good track, although it’s hard to get past the hypnotic repetition of “yummy, yum/That yummy, yummy…” (All lyrics via Apple Music)

I’m less enthusiastic about the series of tracks that make up the album’s third quarter. Although similar to the first three tracks in their understatement, they are less effective, despite contributions by artists like Post Malone and Travis Scott. 

However, most extraordinary about Changes is the succession of lean tracks that make up the latter portion of the album, beginning with the title track. Against an acoustic guitar backing, Bieber sings, “Though I’m going through changes/Don’t mean that I’ll change.” My favorite track on the album is the joyful “Confirmation.” With synth orchestration and a simple piano loop, Bieber affirms,

All you ever really want/All you ever really need is at home/We got the rest/Got the rest, got the rest of our lives

“That’s What Love Is” features a fingerpicking acoustic guitar and urgent vocals including the exaltation, “God bless your maker.” “At Least For Now” is a satisfying sendoff—though Changes isn’t quite done. A remix of “Yummy” with Summer Walker, which is better than the original, returns the listener to the lounge where they began and caps the album. 

I was familiar with two tracks—“Still Into You” and “Ain’t it Fun”— from Paramore’s 2013 self-titled album before listening to the whole thing recently. Both are excellent, and it’s more than worthwhile to give the complete album a listen. 

Paramore has a rocky beginning, with “Fast in My Car” and the musically not-very-interesting “Now.” But the album quickly settles in. “Grow Up” features a punchy, succinct hook and an interesting bridge that serves as a counterpoint. “Daydreaming” is a standout track built on the dream of leaving home. “I wanna get out and build my own home/On a street where reality is not much different from dreams I’ve had” (All lyrics via Apple Music).

“Interlude: Moving On” is the first of three interludes that feature a ukulele. Next is “Ain’t it Fun”— lyrically pessimistic but musically invigorating, the song is united thematically and sonically by a sense of defiance. “You’re not the big fish in the pond no more/You are what they’re feeding on.”

Forming the emotional crest of the album are the tracks “Part II” and “Last Hope,” both standouts. “Part II” is a cry in the dark that employs the soft-loud technique to great effect. “Where once was blazin’ light/Now there’s a tiny spark.”

“Last Hope” begins: “I don’t even know myself at all/I thought I would be happy, by now.” But it reaches a hopeful chorus, providing resolution to the dilemma of “Part II”: “It’s just a spark/But, it’s enough, to keep me goin’.”

Out of the whirlwind, the listener reaches “Still Into You,” whose uncomplication feels thoroughly deserved. “I should be over all the butterflies…”

“Anklebiters” is a satisfying straightforward pop-punk song, while the anthemic chorus on “Proof” is irresistible. The ballad “Hate To See Your Heart Break” provides a change of pace, highlighting Paramore’s versatility. “(One of Those) Crazy Girls” uses syncopation to heighten tension for this melodrama. “Be Alone” is a homebody anthem that has suddenly become rather appropriate.

Paramore’s closer, “Future,” begins stripped-down but switches mid-way to a hard-rock sound with drums and screaming electric guitars. “So, I’m writing the future/I’m leavin’ a key here/Somethin’ won’t always be missing.”

It’s a great song for the first five minutes but doesn’t require the fade-out and fade-back-in that brings the track to nearly eight minutes. 

The tension between hope and despair, home and away, moving forward and looking back—these are the themes that animate much of rock music. But, on Paramore, Paramore’s take is one of the most enjoyable. 

Conjuring both the sensation of loss and the general groundlessness of life, Beck captures something special here. Highlights include “Uneventful Days,” a dramatization of boredom, the joyful “Die Waiting” (with Sky Ferreira), and the sublime “Stratosphere.” However, the album is most satisfying when taken together as a whole. An exploration of liminality, Hyperspace is an adventure worth taking.