Welcome back to Melissa Recommends Music, and happy belated Valentine’s to all the lovers out there, single, taken, or anywhere in between <3
Four weeks have flown by since LR1, and in that time I’ve added around 100 songs to my “latest” playlist. While that more or less checks out with my typical listening habits, I can attribute a lot of those songs to my coming down with covid (for the first time ever!) last month. I spent a big chunk of my isolation period listening to music—specifically, investigating albums that I’d thus far neglected to explore beyond the few songs I already knew off of them. Saint Etienne’s Foxbase Alpha, The Clientele’s Strange Geometry, and 800 Cherries’ Romantico were all highlights, and all made it on to today’s installment of LR. Albums that didn’t make the cut but that are worth a mention include SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE‘s Hypnic Jerks, The Breeders’ Last Splash, Free Cake For Every Creature’s The Bluest Star, and Lil Yachty’s Let’s Start Here.
It was definitely a challenge to whittle 100 songs down to 10 for today’s newsletter, one I anticipate I’ll face every month… but that’s part of the fun. Read on for some more notes on my selections, including a tangential history of iconic ‘60s Brazilian music show Jovem Guarda and a passionate ode to The Clientele, and happy listening!
Track Listing
“Hotel In My Hometown” - G.Smith
“Girl VII” - Saint Etienne
“Olha Eu Aqui Oh! Oh! Oh!…” - Evinha
“Chaser” - Piero Umiliani
“Can’t Get Over You With You” - ML Buch
“PRESSED” - Dean Blunt, TYSON
“4ngelNumb3rzzz - Tropical Gatekeeping Remix” - Team Mekano
“2 Shy” - Happy Birthday
“K” - The Clientele
“frozen” - 800 Cherries
1. “Hotel In My Hometown” by G. Smith
Pop and gritty electronica meet on this track from L.A.-based G. Smith, who released a handful of singles and EPs between 2017 and 2021. Among those, “Hotel In My Hometown” stands out as the most forward-looking to me. Released in 2020, the track’s production feels at home in the electronic landscape of 2023, thanks to its dynamic percussion, synths and vocal processing; meanwhile, the rest of G. Smith’s discography already feels a little bit dated to me, derivative of mid-2010s Charli or Sky Ferreira. Their music still holds up today, achieving a level of freshness that I think G. Smith arrives at with “Hotel In My Hometown.” And let’s be honest: looping an electric guitar over a breakbeat is a surefire way to catch my attention.
2. “Girl VII” by Saint Etienne
Saint Etienne first won me over with the unbeatable “Nothing Can Stop Us,” still my favorite song off of their 1991 debut Foxbase Alpha, but “Girl VII” stood out on my first complete listening of the record for its dexterity. Disparate elements weave in and out of this track in an expert display of subtle yet effective layering: bongo drums, a twangy acoustic guitar, and a rigid marching band-style-snare don’t read as particularly harmonious on paper, but “Girl VII” makes a convincing argument for their compatibility. It’s the slick vocals and minimal house rhythm that hold these more unexpected components together, infusing the whole track with a certain chic “je ne sais quois” that permeates the entire album.
There’s a logical progression to this song that peaks with the “Vogue”-esque spoken word listing of places, the names shedding their meaning as the vocalist, Sarah Cracknell, rattles them off until they’re just sounds, instrumentals that come to a satisfying conclusion with “Buffalo—” and that terrific pause for effect. When “Carrie’s got a boyfriend” fades in, signaling the beginning of the end, the phrase is sped up and looped to achieve a similar instrumental quality reinforced by a synth that picks up where she left off.
Successfully fusing club elements with sunny pop sensibilities, “Girl VII” is a great example of what makes this whole album so compelling. Just the tiniest bit twee while still retaining a refined underground edge, it puts the UK trio’s attention to detail and knack for ingenuity on display.
3. “Olha Eu Aqui Oh! Oh! Oh!…” by Evinha
Highlights on this catchy, sashaying song include the piano underlaying the chorus and the funny little synths that bop in and out of this track from Evinha, a severely underrated artist with the sweetest clear-cut voice. She released this song at the age of 23 in 1974, thirteen years after achieving some fame in Brazil as the youngest of a three-piece teeny-bopper group called Trio Esperança. Comprised of herself and two of her siblings, Mário and Regina, Trio Esperança came about in reaction to a teen singing act called The Golden Boys. In fact, The Golden Boys were comprised of Evinha’s other, older siblings, who made it big performing in a four-piece with a close friend, Waldir. Three years after The Golden Boys found fame singing American doo-wop and rock ‘n’ roll, Trio Esperança formed, chasing the success of their older siblings.
Immediately signed to major record label Odeon, Trio Esperança’s first hit single, a Portuguese cover of Sue Thompson’s “Sad Movies (Make Me Cry)” was an instant bestseller. It was a common practice in the ‘60s for Brazilian artists to perform Portuguese covers of popular American songs, catering to an audience tuned into radio waves and TV shows carrying imported American hits.
Eventually, both The Golden Boys and Trio Esperança landed on the highly influential music program Jovem Guarda, which has such an interesting origin story that I’ll indulge my impulse for tangential music lore to share it with you.
Brazil banned live coverage of soccer games in 1965, after game day footage accidentally exposed an important government official in the stands with his secret lover. With a huge gap in scheduling for primetime television, Jovem Guarda came about initially as a temporary solution to that need. What was meant to last for only a month instead launched a cultural revolution among Brazil’s youth, remaining on air for three years and popularizing a specific, very ‘60s (think Beatlemania) aesthetic and musical style. Led by hosts Erasmos Carlos, Roberto Carlos (no relation), and Wanderléa—all musicians themselves—Jovem Guarda eventually gave way to tropicália in the late ‘60s, coming to be regarded as trite and dated.
(The YouTube video I linked includes a clip of The Golden Boys singing “Pensando Nela,” a Portuguese cover of “Bus Stop” by The Hollies, at 02:32 :))
Shoutout to my friend Phillipe for showing me this song! He just put out a great review of Liv.e’s newest album that you should definitely check out.
4. “Chaser” by Piero Umiliani
This concise instrumental is deceptively easy listening; it took some exposure to it before I noticed just how layered it is. Every element in this song is doing its own crazy thing and yet it all somehow comes together seamlessly. Give me momentum (drums), give me dynamism (piano), give me the sustained notes of a high-pitched synth holding it all aloft! Thank you Piero Umiliani, Italian composer extraordinaire (who also composed “Mah Nà Mah Nà,” popularized by The Muppets).
5. “Can’t Get Over You With You” by ML Buch
This song makes me feel like I’m at a cyber underwater prom night, but that might be because of its similarity to Super Mario 64’s Jolly Roger Bay/Dire, Dire Docks soundtrack. Fantastic drama on the synths in the refrain too. I heard this track on a great radio show called “Crooked Bay” on KPISS FM — highly recommend their mixes!
6. “PRESSED” by Dean Blunt, TYSON
This is the latest single from the prolific Dean Blunt, an artist so steeped in lore that I don’t think I could do his bio justice as a casual fan. Here, he employs characteristically gorgeous and cut up string arrangements underneath haunting vocals from fellow Londoner TYSON, emulating a track he put out with Tirzah a couple months ago under his other pseudonym, Babyfather.
7. “4ngelNumb3rzzz - Tropical Gatekeeping Remix” by Team Mekano
Chaotic and so catchy, this breakcore gem from Ukrainian five-piece Team Mekano is meant to be blasted, not least so you can sing along to the nightcored version of Akon’s ubiquitous “Don’t Matter.” Adding to the silliness are cartoon sound effects that achieve the same recall effect as the Akon sample, and that I can only identify as the “boing,” “blastoff,” “tiptoe,” and “banana peel slip” sound effects (did I miss any? LMK in the comments ;)). The DJ behind this track is DJ Mekkeño, who also contributed the similarly catchy “10,000 NFT Screenshots per Second - Terminally Online Remix” to the collective’s latest album. Catch me literally vibrating to this on the subway.
8. “2 Shy” by Happy Birthday
Kyle Thomas of King Tuff leads this short-lived 2010 project that unfortunately shares a Spotify page with the innumerable versions of “Happy Birthday” the song. I recommend checking their page out just so you can peruse the amount of albums dedicated to versions of “Happy Birthday” (including but not limited to “8 Birthday Fun Singalong,” “8 The Top Birthday,” “8 Happy Birthday One And All,” and “12 Birthday For A Friend”).
In all seriousness, this song sounds classically power pop to me. Clean the mix up a bit and replace Kyle Thomas’ voice with Alex Chilton’s and you have a Big Star sleeper hit right there. A couple summers ago I had a power pop phase where, after discovering Big Star and Shoes, I tried to determine what exactly differentiated power pop with punk with pop rock. The answer? Not a whole lot.
9. “K” by The Clientele
Oh boy oh boy. (I think from this point on I’ll have to feature at least one song that makes me say “oh boy” in every newsletter. Maybe I’ll make a playlist of “oh boy” songs…) Strange Geometry is not the most listened-to album by The Clientele by any means, but it’s the one that captured my heart. A lot of it reminds me of The Beatles, which makes me feel like I finally “get it” when it comes to the chokehold that so many older music writers insist the foursome had on pretty much everyone that came after them.
I’ve dabbled in The Clientele for a few years now, starting with the iconic “Reflections After Jane” and skipping through to “Since K Got Over Me,” which was the soundtrack to my first heartbreak. When I finally got around to listening to Strange Geometry last month, I was pleasantly surprised to see “Since K Got Over Me” occupying the important opening slot. It made it feel like I’d been preparing to listen to the whole album for years. I was also intrigued to see “K” just three songs down the tracklist, the mysterious initial beckoning to me, especially since I spent so long relating to K getting over me. Who was this K? What more could I learn about them, and perhaps about myself?
Greeted by ambient sounds and radio static (itself somehow rhythmic), I was forced, I felt, to wait for the song to start. My attention waned… “K” didn’t stick out to me on my first listen. It was only later, in another quiet moment, that it clicked for me. That opening ambience that I initially ignored was really a space to breathe, an invitation for reflection, altogether a crucial element in setting the tone for what reads to me as a narrative turning point on the album. Over the plucked strings of two guitars, entwined and antique-sounding, Alasdair MacLean sings his lyrics the way a bard might recite a tale, so gorgeous I have to share them.
Back into that falling night
The birches and the silhouettes
The haunted plain
Sweet Lord, here I am againYou flower through my nails and skin
Moving like the sunlight in the alleyways
But in this life
We won't meet again
SWOON! As we move beyond the initial angst that kicks off this album, “K” emerges as a lush, aching moment of transition, the juncture between resistance and acceptance. This song is not about “K” so much as the memory of K, the singer’s relationship to them, and as listeners, our relationships to our own K’s. It’s telling that my attachment to this song came about at another moment of heartbreak in my life, but I’d like to think that it also signals growth — at least, growth relative to my former clinging to "K“‘s angsty parallel. If “Since K Got Over Me” is a wail, “K” is a sigh: of regret, of relief, of release.
10. “frozen” by 800 Cherries
Bringing the playlist to a close is a wistful track from Tokyo-based 800 Cherries, whose 1999 album Romantico is simply a pleasure to listen to. Lots of people on the internet describe their sound as “innocent” and “dreamy” and “joyful,” but my favorite descriptor was “tiny.” Their tiny, carefree electronic pop belies a depth that never overwhelms but merely holds us afloat — this track is probably the closest we get to “sad” on the whole album. But instead of plain old sad, it’s pensive and plaintive and a little forlorn. “la pa ti ta” will forever be my favorite, but “frozen” has its own tiny charm.
We made it to the end! Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed it. Some questions for you: What was your favorite track on the playlist? Do you have a heartbreak song? Do you think The Beatles are overrated? Let me know in the comments!
The next newsletter is DFGAS2, and it goes out in two weeks. Hope I see you back here then :)
this g. smith really getting me through tuesday morning at the office !! xx
K lyrics truly so beautiful 🤧