Tag: Indie Pop

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Best albums of 2025: Albums #10 through #6

Hello again!

The calendar has rolled over to December 1st and that, to me, means that the countdown to Christmas and the end of the year begins in earnest. It used to be an unwritten rule that this was the date that Christmas songs started being trumpeted in the stores and decorations were brought out and trees put up at home and at the office, etc, but that date has been steadily pushed forward over the years. And now it seems the Hallmark movies start on November 1st pretty much on cue and the Christmas decorations and chocolates appear in stores as soon as the Halloween candies are put away, and in some cases (Hello, Costco), even beforehand. I remember a Far Side cartoon from many years ago that I am reminded of every Autumn, that features a gobsmacked person at the door to give out Halloween candy and finds there none other than Santa Claus himself.

I could rant about things like this all day, more so the grumpier I get with age, but that’s not what this particular blog is about, so let’s get back to the music. Yes, December 1st also is a great day to publish the post that starts counting down my top ten favourite albums of the year in earnest. So that’s exactly what I’m doing: starting it all today with albums #10 through #6. (If you missed my post from last Monday, I invite you to backtrack and check out some of the other great albums that just missed the cut.) Then, I plan to share my favourite five over the next few weeks, one a day, sprinkled in with other posts, hopefully getting them all in and finishing on schedule on New Year’s Eve.

With all the excellent releases in 2025, I am sure I missed out on one or two, so as we go through my own ten favourite albums, I welcome your comments and thoughts and perhaps even your own top ten favourites in the comments spaces provided.

Let’s do this.

#10 Snocaps “Snocaps”

We start this top ten countdown with an album I would have never expected to be here a few months ago. Surprise announced and released on the same day back on Halloween, “Snocaps” is the self-titled debut album* by a sort of supergroup led by twin sisters Allison (Swearin’) and Katie (Waxahatchee) Crutchfield and rounded out by current “it” musician MJ Lenderman and producer Brad Cook. I’d been a fan of the work of both Crutchfield sisters since I came across them close to a decade ago, but lesser so of late, given Allison’s break from music and Katie’s move away from the sound that first drew me to her and towards a more folk singer/songwriter feel. Happily, together, their sound feels like a return to form for me, each sister taking turns at the microphone and having each other’s back throughout. You can almost hear the sisterly ribbing and laughter that must’ve occurred during the recording sessions. It is music for music’s sake.

#9 Nation Of Language “Dance called memory”

I got into the Brooklyn based synth pop trio back in 2020 with the release of their debut, falling hard for “On division st.“, a standout single from the album. I’ve been following them ever since, with each successive album, I keep waiting for the ball to drop. A band with heavy leanings to the past, plucked straight out of a 1980s John Hughes film soundtrack, you might think that they might hit a wall eventually, run out of ideas, but the opposite keeps happening. And now, with their fourth long player and first to be released on indie powerhouse Sub Pop records, they might have recorded their best yet. “Dance called memory” is aptly named, continuing their sound blend of retro and fresh music to dance to and to remember and to make new memories to.

#8 Robert Ascroft “Echo still remains”

Of course, an album this cinematic and moody and atmospheric would be made by a photographer, director, and producer. Robert Ascroft has now added recording artist to his list of accomplishments but he hasn’t done it alone. For his debut album, “Echo still remains”, he enlisted a host of collaborators that range from Ruth Radelet (Chromatics) to Christopher Owens (Girls) and from Britta Phillips (Luna) to Zumi Rosow (Black Lips). Each song is an adventure reflected in raindrops glistening on the windshield of a car hurtling down a deserted highway in the dead of night. The colour palette is David Lynch. The finish is dream pop and psychedelic and far too cool for school. It is instantly replayable.

#7 Doves “Constellations for the lonely”

“Constellations for the lonely” is the sixth studio by Manchester trio Doves and the second since reforming after an eight year hiatus. Much like their previous work, the album is dark in the feels and big on atmospherics but the group was purposeful here in evoking an apocalyptic world. It was inspired by the lows the group was experiencing in the wake of the release of their previous album, 2020’s “The universal want“, frontman Jimi Goodwin’s mental health struggles and the need to cancel the promotional tour. But rather than tearing them apart, Doves persevered and grew stronger, themes reflected in this new album and indeed, there is more sharing of vocal duties across it than on previous outings. Despite all the darkness, there is hope and a renewed sense of the group as one.

#6 Miki Berenyi Trio “Tripla”

The Miki Berenyi Trio was formed by Oliver Cherer, Kevin McKillop, and the band’s namesake, Miki Berenyi, when their previous band Piroshka stalled after only two albums**. This new group originally started out playing Lush covers as part of Berenyi’s book tour, enlisting the services of a drum machine because Piroshka/Lush drummer Justin Welch was busy touring with Jesus and Mary Chain. This lineup necessitated a change in name and style and though it’s Berenyi’s name at the forefront, the trio is really the key, as evidenced by the title of this debut album. Although they continue to be mainly a dream pop outfit, dance elements have kicked in along with the drum machine and we’ve also seen an increase in synth washes and effects for a more intense sound all around. I really like where this is going and can’t wait to hear more.

*And perhaps last album as well?

**In my opinion, great albums, both of them.

Stay tuned for album #5 on this list. In the meantime, you can check out my Best Albums page here if you’re interested in my other favourite albums lists.

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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.

Categories
Tunes

Best tunes of 2003: #9 Belle & Sebastian “Dear catastrophe waitress”

<< #10    |    #8 >>

“Dear. Catastrophe. Waitress.”

Back when I first moved to Ottawa, I was employed at a call center taking calls for a utility company that I will not name here. It was unionized and pretty good pay and I was often able to pick up extra shifts to pay down my student debt. And if they hadn’t closed up shop in 2006, I might even still be working there today.

My coworkers were good people and management understood that taking calls was a tough job so they were often looking for ways to improve office morale. They held plenty of social events, encouraged fun, theme days in the office, and offered prizes for keeping call times low, call quality high, and for perfect attendance. While I was rarely in the top for call times and my quality was middling at best, I never missed work days, which meant collecting a hundred dollar gift card at the store of my choice for perfect attendance once a year. Of course, my store of choice back then tended to be HMV Canada, which allowed me to score a handful of CDs. The second year I got my gift card, my trove of purchases included the newly released sixth album by Belle and Sebastian, “Dear Catastrophe Waitress”.

I had been a fan of the Glaswegian twee pop collective for a few years by then, having been introduced to them by a friend in my final year of university. I had taken quickly to their first three albums, all of which had been released in just as quick a succession in the last few years of the 90s. And it was really on the backs of those that I bought the compact disc. I hadn’t taken as hastily to their fourth record, “Fold your hands child, you walk like a peasant”, though I’ve since grown to appreciate it, and the same went for 2002’s “Storytelling”, which was sort of the soundtrack to the 2001 Todd Solondz film of the same name*. Happily, I found “Dear Catastrophe Waitress” a complete shift in gears and a revitalization of Belle and Sebastian’s sound. There was tons to like and pick through and I spent a lot of time doing so**.

“I’m sorry that you seem to have the weight of the world over you
I cherish your smile
There’s a word of peace on your lips
Say it, and with tenderness I’ll cherish”

“Dear Catastrophe Waitress” is now one of my favourite albums by Belle and Sebastian and the title track is easily my favourite on the album. Track two is just over two minutes in length but it’s a frenetic two minutes. Like an ill run, short-staffed restaurant at lunch time, slammed by ornery and ignorant tourists. After two repetitions of the title, frontman Stuart Murdoch launches hard into an ode to the under-appreciated waitress. Meanwhile, the drums are non-stop and the symphony of horns and strings are all ramped up in keeping up, a cacophony of cartoon sounds, the coyote and roadrunner conspiring together.

By the end, we are all left breathless and sad. But ready to start it all over again.

*Which I also didn’t really like and unlike the previous album, I still don’t really like this one.

**I even picked up a novel from the library by Brendan Halpin, an author I had never heard of, a few years after the album’s release, simply because it borrowed the album’s title for its own. (It was an enjoyable read.)

For the rest of the Best tunes of 2003 list, click here.