Categories
Albums

Best albums of 2025: Honourable mentions

I know most people are not a fan of Mondays, given that it’s the start of a new work week and all that that entails, but I like the idea of new starts and all of the potential they bring. And what better day than a Monday to start a new series… and one that celebrates another year of great music at that.

Yes, indeed, it is that time again.

And though I’m not one to want to wish the days away, I gotta say I won’t be sad to kiss 2025 goodbye. It’s been, for the most part, an uneventful year, but also one that I won’t ever forget. I’ve spent the lion’s share of it in recovery mode. Health concerns that I don’t really want to get too deep into here but ones that, at many times this year, have had me worried that I’d never fully recover from. I am only now just returning to work after a long period away and that in itself is its own challenge.

All this to say, there were but a few bright spots to point out from 2025. I can include all the precious time I was able to spend with my lovely wife as one, of course, and all the quality time whiled away listening to great music as another. Yes, I devoted as much time as I could spinning records and exploring new music and old favourites on the streaming sites on the old Internet. The pure joy of music was almost as much a part of my recovery as the balance of rest and calm and fresh air.

So, yeah, by my quick glance at the calendar, I see we’ve got just over five weeks left of 2025 and my plan is to share, interspersed with my regular blog programming, some of my favourite albums that the year has offered. I’m starting today with some honourable mentions, albums that didn’t quite crack my top ten but that are definitely worth your time, and I’ll be back soon with a start to the countdown of my ten faves. Enjoy.


bdrmm “Microtonic”:  Hull, England based outfit imbues electronic dreams into their shoegaze arsenal for their third outing with brilliant results.
Check out: John on the ceiling

Ezra Furman “Goodbye small head”:  Always raw and immediate, the American singer/songwriter’s 10th album is filled with personal tales that at the same time feel quite universal.
Check out: Grand mal

Just Mustard “We were just here”:  The Irish quintet’s third album smacks equal parts of the haunting goth of Cranes and the noisy experimentation of Sonic Youth.
Check out: We were just here

Amy Millan “I went to find you”:  The Stars’ co-frontwoman’s* third solo album moves away from the folk/country of her first two releases and into an indie pop sound that feels like a warm comforter on a cold Canadian winter morning.
Check out: The overpass

Pale Blue Eyes “New place”: More beautiful and danceable dream pop ecstasy from the trio originally from Sheffield, songs that feel blissfully eternal.
Check out: Scrolling

Sloan “Based on the best seller”: The Canadian alt-rock icons doing what they do best on their fourteenth studio LP – just keeping on keeping on bringing the rock.
Check out: Dream destroyer

The Veils “Asphodels”: The latest by Finn Andrews’ musical vehicle is typically dramatic and epic, and worthy of another David Lynch soundtrack.
Check out: The ladder


*Whose last name I learned this year that I’ve been mispronouncing for two decades.

I’ll be back very soon with albums #10 through #6 for my Best albums of 2025 list. In the meantime, you can check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

Categories
Vinyl

Vinyl love: The Clientele “Strange geometry”

(Vinyl Love is a series of posts that quite simply lists, describes, and displays the pieces in my growing vinyl collection. You can bet that each record was given a spin during the drafting of each corresponding post.)

Artist: The Clientele
Album Title: Strange geometry
Year released: 2005
Year reissued: 2016
Details: standard black

The skinny: More Clientele vinyl hitting my turntable this week, this one a warm and long overdue reacquaintance. “Strange geometry” was their third album, released in 2005, and would be the first of a litany new Clientele albums that would be hotly anticipated by yours truly the moment they were announced. It was only a slight letdown from the perfection of “The violet hour“, veering ever so slightly into pop territory, only very, very slightly mind you, but this didn’t keep me from eating the album up at all. Indeed, it wasn’t long before I was in love with its every detail. This particular piece has the distinction of being the first Clientele record to become part of my collection. I purchased the 2016 Merge reissue pretty much as soon as it went up for pre-order on Amazon for a very reasonable price in the $25 range.

Standout track: “Since K got over me”

Categories
Tunes

100 best covers: #32 Black Box Recorder “Seasons in the sun”

<< #33    |    #31 >>

Well, I learned something new when writing this post. Before sitting down to draft it and indeed, when putting together this list, many moons ago, I was thinking that Terry Jacks was the originator of this song and I had an idea that the flavour of this post would be highly nostalgic, given that his version was one of my father’s faves. However, as I was tracking down the videos below for this post and doing a bit of fact checking, I realized that the origins of “Seasons in the sun” were just a tad more complicated.

Originating as a French language song titled “Le moribund” (“The dying man”), it was recorded and released back in 1961 by Belgian chanteur Jacques Brel for his fifth album, “Marieke”. I was quite surprised listening to it for the first time that though the pacing and melody was similar to the version I knew, it sounded quite different, was much darker, and it wasn’t just the language either. It had a staccato rhythm, amped by strings and horns, and the voice of Jacques Brel hovering heavenly above it all, weaving the persona of a dying man addressing from his deathbed a number of acquaintances, including a good friend, a priest, and… his wife’s lover.

“Le moribund” was translated and rewritten by California poet and singer/songwriter Rod McKuen in 1963* and he gave his version the title with which I was more familiar. And though his version was substantially different in terms of the title and word choices, it was still quite similar thematically.

Canadian singer/songwriter Terry Jacks then took McKuen’s words and used them as a springboard in the early 70s, taking the narrative even further away from the original, rewriting nearly half the words, and entirely removing the element of the cheating wife, leaving the impression of a life unfinished, no closure, just unhappiness at the passing. His version of the song was originally intended for The Beach Boys** but he ended up recording his own rendition in 1974 and it became a world wide sensation.

Despite the heartbreak of the content, his “Seasons in the Sun” was very much in the vein of the Beach Boys sound, focusing intently on the sunshine of the title, and of course, it had that unforgettable dreamy guitar riff at the beginning of each verse. And yeah, I know the song has been critically derided over the years and has been called out as one of the worst songs ever recorded, but it appealed to my sappy teenaged self, one of the songs that I adopted from my parents’ car playlists before I struck out on my own musically.

Fast forward twenty five years or so and I was just getting into the latest Luke Haines project, Black Box Recorder, at the recommendation of my good friend Tim, who also got me into The Auteurs. They recorded a cover of “Seasons in the sun” based on the Terry Jacks version*** during the sessions for their debut, 1998’s “England made me”. Theirs is a heavy and heavenly bass line, juxtaposed against Sara Nixey’s soft as cotton touch on vocals and the odd synth flourish, and yeah, they included a nod to that instantly recognizable riff. By the end, Luke Haines has joined the mix, singing backup and adding raunchy guitars and feedback, ripping the band aid off of some of the innocence of the Terry Jacks version, bringing the angst and darkness back, as if channeling Jacques Brel.

As much as the original appeals, as does what Brel does with his words, and as much as I loved the Terry Jacks version as a teen, I’m going to go with Black Box Recorder here.

Cover:

Original (in French):

Terry Jacks version:

*Part of his translation project to bring Brel’s work to the English speaking masses.

**They recorded a version in 1971 but weren’t happy with it. The recording eventually saw the light on one of the many box sets that were released many years later.

***They adjusted the first person narrative lyrics to a female voice to account for the fact that Sara was singing.

For the rest of the 100 best covers list, click here.