Happy Monday, folks! I’m off on Spring Break, somewhere in Ohio as we speak, but the content mills wait for no one. Therefore, I’ve prepared this in the past for the future! Ain’t the internet great sometimes? Here’s your playlist.
- Florence + the Machine, “Queen of Peace”: Florence (and the Machine, natch) show they started out strong and anthematic, their signature sound already in place from the very beginning.
- The Wild Feathers, “Help Me Out”: The latest in the long list of “songs I heard in a store and though sounded good.” That particular track list hasn’t failed me yet.
- Brian Fallon, “Proof of Life”: When I die, I want this song played at my funeral. “As long as you know how I loved you/That will be the proof of life when I am gone” is just one of those lines that you wish you’d written yourself, but you’re also kinda glad someone else wrote it because now you get to sit back and just appreciate it.
- David Gray, “Mr. Bennett”: I dunno quite what I think of the new David Gray album yet. It feels…underdone, I guess. Unfinished. This is one of the songs I’ve liked the most so far, but even it doesn’t really reach me the way some of his older stuff does.
- Hurray for the Riff Raff, “Snake Plant (The Past Is Still Alive) (Live)”: I do enjoy hearing how songs transform in a live setting, even if they don’t change much. This one feels more powerful here, more energetic, and I can dig that.
- The Wallflowers, “Here He Comes (Confessions of a Drunken Marionette)”: Went through a Wallflowers run earlier in the month. Rebel, Sweetheart, remains a favorite, and this song is pretty great.
- Tracy Bonham, “Mother Mother”: The Wife hates this song. No idea why. It seems like the PJ Harvey-esque sort of thing that she’d love, but it just rubs her the wrong way for whatever reason. I think it slaps.
- The Black Crowes, “Hard To Handle”: You can’t go wrong covering Otis Redding.
- Lapdog, “I Don’t Mind”: I’m glad that Toad the Wet Sprocket started working together and recording again, but I do wish we’d gotten more Lapdog albums along the way. They were different enough from Toad and I loved their vibe.
- Leo Sayer, “More Than I Can Say”: It’s ’70s soft rock at its yachtiest. Sometimes you just need some ’70s Velveeta.
