LR6
Featuring Ted Lucas, Los Darts, and a rocksteady cover of a soul classic.
Welcome back to Melissa Recommends Music! I’ve spent far too long sitting on this newsletter, so today I’m excited to finally bring you another Latest Roundup, featuring ten of my most liked and most listened-to songs of the past few weeks.
Despite the length of time that I gave myself to write this newsletter, I found myself struggling to form coherent thoughts. It might be that the vacation mentality of summer sapped me of the capacity for critical thought, or the scorching heat and humidity of the last few weeks brought on an unshakable lethargy, or reading The Idiot by Elif Batuman made everything feel a little bit absurd and a little bit meaningless. It was probably all of the above, but in any case, please excuse the ramblings ahead, which were only somewhat remedied by my discovery that Substack supports footnotes(!). That said, I’m actually very excited to share the playlist itself, one of my favorites so far, so I hope the music speaks for itself.
Read on for folktronica, some New Wave lore, and a palate cleanser of sorts.
Track Listing
“It’s All Is” - Robert Stillman
“Melancholy Man” - The Wake
“Now That I Know” - Ted Lucas
“Nothing Takes the Place of You” - Prince Buster
“El Despertar” - Los Darts
“Seismic” - Mid-Air Thief
“Freak” - feeble little horse
“Parasite” - Melody English
“Mr. Rabbit” - Paul Westerberg
“Red Sleeping Beauty” - McCarthy
1. “It’s All Is” by Robert Stillman
This jazzy instrumental from American composer and instrumentalist Robert Stillman has been in my rotation for a few months, but it never quite fit into a playlist until now. Functionally, it’s like a reset button for my mood. A palate cleanser, if you will, in that it washes away any lingering mental or emotional clutter and reestablishes a baseline listening environment for me. I knew right off the bat that I wanted it to be the opener for the playlist.
There’s a lot of things I like about “It’s All Is,” perhaps the biggest being its steady, loping pace. But also, the way it starts in the middle of the sound of a crashing cymbal; or how the melody is mirrored between the piano and the jumble of horns and woodwinds; and of course, the flurry of instrumentals that stutter and run into each other periodically, finally grinding to a halt in a whorl of huffing and puffing, as if the instruments are all dazed and out of breath.
This song is also attached to a very specific memory for me: walking to the subway from Prospect Park on a temperate late-March evening, strolling through the brownstones and feeling capital-S Spring for the first time that season. “It’s All Is” introduced this year’s spring to me like a lightbulb going off over my head, with a satisfying click that could only happen in that specific context: sun going down on a balmy day after an afternoon in the park with friends, long shadows signaling not the shortening of days but the lengthening of them, taking my time heading home alone in one of those moods where I look forward to the hour commute just so I can listen to music on the train.
And of course, the name — what could it mean? It almost makes sense, but not quite… a little bit silly and a little bit profound. Just like the song itself.
2. “Melancholy Man” by The Wake
LR5 featured a prominent mention of The Wake, but no song by them. I just couldn’t find a place for them in that playlist. But “Melancholy Man” makes perfect sense to me as the follow-up to “It’s All Is.”
I’m very fond of this song, similar to the way that maybe you loved that one special plushie as a kid. It brings me a sense of joy and comfort; I wish I could hug it and squeeze it like I could a plushie, but at least I can carry it around with me everywhere. I listened to it almost on repeat for a whole month before I realized it was 7 minutes long, a fact that I found shocking — it never felt long enough for me. That bouncy bass, that summery guitar, those sustained synths… chef’s kiss. And in a fun little Easter egg, it “samples” lyrics from Don McLean’s song “Vincent” in the last chorus:
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you
The Wake formed in Glasgow in 1981, fronted by former Altered Images guitarist Gerard “Caesar” McInulty and backed by Steven Allen, his sister Carolyn, and a revolving list of bassists. That included Bobby Gillespie, who would go on to join The Jesus and Mary Chain. Their first single caught the attention of New Order’s manager, who signed them to Factory Records, and a later hit single (“Talk About the Past”) featured Vini Reilly of the Durutti Column. In short, they were deeply involved in the UK New Wave scene.
3. “Now That I Know” by Ted Lucas
After doing my research, I can safely say that Ted Lucas is one of those peripheral legends of rock: a working musician who appeared in-concert or on recordings for huge names like Yes, The Eagles and Black Sabbath, yet never quite got his own time in the limelight. He was a fixture in the Detroit music scene of the ‘60s and ‘70s, and while Motown was based there he was their “exotic string specialist” (lol), playing on albums by The Temptations, The Supremes, Stevie Wonder, etc.
“Now That I Know” is off his self-titled 1975 debut, which features artwork by Stanley Mouse that was originally meant for Jimi Hendrix. Spotify auto-shuffle introduced me to this song, which I think would fit perfectly on the soundtrack to Juno or a Wes Anderson movie. Also, Ted Lucas’ voice here really reminds me of “Clean Elvis” by Dan Reeder.
4. “Nothing Takes the Place of You” by Prince Buster
At first, something about this song really reminded me of Sam Cooke. Come to find out, it’s actually a cover of Toussaint McCall’s 1967 soul hit. I think it’s the way the melody is structured, the chord progressions and also the lyrics, that come together to sound quintessentially like soul, even beneath that buoyant rocksteady rhythm that Prince Buster introduces. If anyone with knowledge of music theory wants to offer some insight here, I humbly direct you to the comments section.
A cursory google search of Prince Buster will tell you that he transformed Jamaican music and introduced the first ska beat to the world, pioneering that genre and its offshoot, rocksteady. This cover came out in the same year as the original, and between the two I prefer this version. Where McCall’s is full of drama and despair, Prince Buster’s is understated and straightforward, which I find more convincing. The original feels like it exists in a single moment of painful remembrance, like McCall is sitting at the rainy window he’s singing about and wallowing in his heartbreak; meanwhile, Prince Buster’s simple delivery and slightly sped up, though still unhurried, tempo paint a picture of the kind of grief that you find yourself living with day after day. It’s the theatrics of fresh heartbreak vs. the quiet acceptance of longterm heartache.
5. “El Despertar” by Los Darts
I love the strong, elegant piano that kicks off this song. In my mind it’s emerged as a sort of ringmaster, hooking your attention at the introduction, then fading into the background to make room for the variety show ahead, all while pulling the strings from behind the curtain.
Because this song is truly like a variety show. There are layers of different elements, from the harmonies to the xylophone to the drum set, electric guitar, various pieces of percussion, etc. etc. but despite their disparity, they come together seamlessly. You can hear the Beatles influence in the vocals, and the instrumentals are a really masterful blend of genres, from bossa nova to rock to cha-cha-cha… it’s a perfect example of good fusion: never muddy, always revelatory, and so much fun.
“El Despertar” was the last single from Venezuelan pop-rock group Los Darts before their dissolution in 1974. This version is from a compilation album of Venezuelan “hidden gems” originally released between 1966 and 1978, put together by El Dragón Criollo and DJ El Palmas. The liner notes for the album, which you can read on Bandcamp, have some great insights into the era.
6. “Seismic” by Mid-Air Thief
We’re approaching math rock territory with this one, and I’m not sorry. That finger-picking riff that bookends the song is simply exhilarating, and something about it conjures up very specific images for me… clear water winking in the sunlight and rushing over smooth rocks in a shallow stream; or being in the passenger seat of a car speeding down the highway and looking not out at the rolling flat green fields, but down at blurred pavement rushing beneath tires. So specific, but I think what connects them is the speed, the rushing and the sun. And of course, the riff.
“Seismic” is off of Mid-Air Thief’s debut album, Gongjoong Doduk, which came out in 2015. A Korean indie artist known as “enigmatic” for his aversion to the press, Mid-Air Thief really blew up in 2018 with his second album, Crumbling, which (to his displeasure) won the Best Dance & Electronic Music Album at the 2019 Korean Music Awards. However, I think a more accurate description of his sound would be folktronica, which kept popping up in my Googling.1
My one complaint about this song is how loud it gets in the chorus. It’s never fun to have to adjust volume levels throughout a song, but I appreciate the effect he was going for (crescendo) and more specifically, that one barking dog that appears in the chorus.
7. “Freak” by feeble little horse
My friend Ryan played this song in the car one day and I was immediately smitten. You guys know I love a shredding fuzzy guitar, even more so with some reverb2 on it. The cadence of “I can pick it up if you play nicely” is supremely satisfying over the electric.
“Freak” opens feeble little horse’s sophomore album, Girl with Fish, which came out in June. They’re from Pittsburgh, and if this song is any indication think I need to listen to more of their music.
8. “Parasite” by Melody English
Melody English is a NYC-based artist and one-half of Test Subjects, whom I saw play Baby’s All Right earlier last month with an astonishing and delightful amount of props. All of this song is great to me, but especially the bridge — that chord progression is fabulous.
9. “Mr. Rabbit” by Paul Westerberg
The main riff of this song from Replacements frontman Paul Westerberg always gets me. Like my discovery of “Freak,” I heard this when my friend Ben played it in the car for us (hi Ben) and my ears instantly perked up.
As we’ve known since LR1, I’m a huge fan of the Replacements. That said, I’ve never explored Paul Westerberg’s solo stuff — in fact, his voice on this recording sounds distinctly different from his Replacements-era songs. The nursery rhyme-type lyrics are also a departure from his Replacements days, and I’m tempted to believe that this song is actually a nursery rhyme that he interpreted, partly because Wikipedia lists it as “‘Mr. Rabbit’ (Traditional)” with a link to the page for “traditional folk music.”
This comes off Westerberg’s fourth solo album, Stereo, which he recorded in his basement.
10. “Red Sleeping Beauty” by McCarthy
Our sendoff today is not a peaceful one but an energizing one. The drums on this track from McCarthy particularly remind me of that Black Tambourine song I talked about in LR5, “For Ex-Lovers Only,” not just for the way they sound but also for the way they make me feel (buzzy and caffeinated).
McCarthy were a British five-piece active from 1985-1990 who used their music as a vehicle for great indie pop and Marxist ideologies — their name is a cheeky reference to American McCarthyism. After splitting up in 1990, two of the members, partners Malcolm Eden and Laetitia Sadier, went on to form Stereolab.
Thank you for reading today’s newsletter! As always, if you care to share your thoughts, reactions, suggestions, etc. I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
The next newsletter goes out in two or probably three weeks, and it’ll likely be another LR to accommodate all the new music I listened to while taking forever to write this one. See you then!
I’ve said this before but I love discovering genres… especially when they’re portmanteaus. At the end of the day they’re really quite arbitrary, but that’s part of the fun.
Not sure if this is the technically correct term for what’s going on with the guitar? If you know, please educate me.
anotha newsletter filled with gems and great writing, i love the wake song btw