Song Recommendations: 9/24/25

"No Shit," Lester Bowie's Brass Fantasy
This song was released in 1986, which makes it rather elderly for a Song Recommendations pick, but fuck it — listening to it has made me real happy lately, I doubt most of you are even aware of its existence, and I believe it was recommended to me by one of my longtime pals at Something Else!, which gives me a perfect excuse to link out to them here. No shit!

"The Drop," The Bones of J.R. Jones
Well, this is just nasty in the best way. There's something terribly appealing about a band that sounds like it's better than the equipment being used to capture its performance, if you know what I mean, and that's the vibe I get here — just a seething groove that sounds like it might have been recorded using toy microphones and a console that was kicked down a flight of stairs. Roll the Bones.

"10 Feet Tall," Current Swell
Songs that look back on the singer's youth are absolutely nothing new, but here's one that treats the looking back as something other than an excuse to get mopey and nostalgic; instead, it celebrates the optimism of that bygone era while acknowledging — without sadness or judgment — that it was based in a certain amount of feckless ignorance. A refreshing change. Also, this song is catchy as hell.

"Gotta Give the People," Tomar and the FCs
There's a lot going wrong in the world today, people. I'm not going to lie to you; we're facing a long list of serious problems that feels like it's getting longer by the day. I certainly don't have all the answers, but consider this: Wouldn't this crazy old planet be a better place if we had more funk bands showing us how to get on the good foot and stay there?

"Misswanderer," Animal, Surrender!
For this album, Animal, Surrender! expanded its usual sonic palette (eight-string bass and drums) to include the mighty hum of the pipe organ. The group falls under the post-rock umbrella, but the end result here is more Bill Frisell than Explosions in the Sky — emotionally evocative, but resolutely intimate.

"Leaving You," Your Smith
If you're old enough to remember the period between, say, 1994 and 2005, "Leaving You" will probably remind you of any number of female singer-songwriters who blended sunny yet slightly melancholic vibes with solid pop songcraft. The cynical take, I guess, might be that Your Smith could slipstream into the nostalgic wake left by the new Lilith Fair documentary. The superior take, I'd argue, is that this type of thing never really deserved to fall out of fashion.

"Deadly," Social Cinema
There's a sort of artsy early '80s swagger to "Deadly" that I appreciate. Having heard the rest of Social Cinema's upcoming Don't Get Lost LP, I feel duty-bound to report that this track is kind of an outlier within its track listing, but that isn't a knock on the record; if you enjoy "Deadly" — and I think you will — you should make a point of hearing the rest when it drops on 10/2.

"Let It Hiss," the Barr Brothers
Welcome back to the Barr Brothers, who evidently dealt with a bunch of deep, dark personal issues between albums — to the point that there was some question as to whether there'd even be a Barr Brothers going forward. I don't always like their stuff as much as I feel like I ought to, but "Let It Hiss" suggests a duo whose time off has had a restorative effect on their mojo.

"So Far So," Shiner
"So Far So" definitely carries with it a palpable whiff of "guys who have chain wallets and think 3 Doors Down are great," but I think it's tempered by an understanding of U2-style sweep that a lot of the potatohead bands who dwell in this sonic universe never really developed. I mean, actually, I can almost imagine Bono singing this song 20 years ago, which is probably the only testament it needs.

"Requiem For The 25th St Train Trestle (Your Rose How It Grows)," Truculent
A song title like this one calls to mind visions of caped weirdos banging away on multi-necked guitars and stacks of synths while Jon Anderson chirps about yogic texts. Well, prepare to be surprised, because it's actually the exact opposite — just one truly ordinary-looking dude doing his best Leo Kottke impression in the middle of some truly lovely-looking woods. I am often in the mood for just this sort of thing, and Truculent comes correct with it. Amen.

"Somewhat Burdensome," Claire Rousay
Here's another instrumental, albeit one that's fairly far removed from the stuff Truculent is doing. Claire Rousay's "Somewhat Burdensome" is more the type of thing that almost but not quite calls to mind what might happen if the members of the Blue Nile got together late one night to record something, except Paul Buchanan didn't feel like singing. It is, in other words, beautiful in a way that makes sadness feel like the most perfect emotion anyone has ever felt.

"No One's Forgiven," Flight to London
We've long since reached the point where the era of '80s nostalgia has grown longer than the '80s themselves, and the onslaught of artists who lean on various sounds of the decade in order to communicate their influences shows no signs of letting up anytime soon, if ever. Relatively few of those artists, however, have the good sense to poach Phil Collins' '80s drum sound — or to spend the money on a music video that deliberately evokes Genesis' "Land of Confusion" clip. Now, there's still an argument to be made that "No One's Forgiven" is pretty middle of the road stuff, and I wouldn't die fighting on that hill. Still, I think this does a decent job of doing just about everything it sets out to do.

"This Is Why," ALA.NI
ALA.NI's new album is called Sunshine Music, and that's a pretty appropriate title for an appealingly breezy collection, but it could just as easily have been called Parisian Street Cafe music, and one listen to "This Is Why" will tell you why. This is the type of song that's liable to leave you with a hankering for a baguette and cup of black coffee.

"Baby," Atmosphere
Atmosphere's new Jestures joint has a cute overarching concept — 26 tracks, each one starting with a successive letter of the alphabet — but there's nothing cute about the record's soul-searching music, which consistently gives the lie to the idea that hip-hop is a young MC's game and it's nigh impossible for middle-aged rappers to come up with compelling things to say. I've had Jestures on repeat for much of the week, and I wouldn't call any song skippable; if I had to pick, however, I'd say "Baby" is the closest thing to a hit single.

"open," cktrl
We close out with a cut from another album I've had on repeat all week: cktrl's spirit, an absolutely, unrelentingly lovely series of sax-led musical meditations. Start to finish, it's one of the most beautiful works I've had the privilege of coming across in a very long time, and I hope it moves you the way it's moved me.