Song Recommendations: 12/18/25

"Heat Death," Pressure Wheel
"Heat Death" sounds to me like the best song Robby Takac never wrote for the Goo Goo Dolls — a fat-free, fist-pumping rocker that might have been recorded somewhere during the period between Superstar Car Wash and A Boy Named Goo. There's a river of mid-'90s energy running off this thing, and while I recognize that kind of vibe isn't hard to find these days, Pressure Wheel doesn't sound like they're being ironic or self-conscious about it; this isn't pastiche, it's more like a time machine. It's also a really well-written tune. Looking forward to hearing more from these guys.

"Outro," Young Mister
Young Mister is one of those bands that's really just one guy you've never heard of — although this particular guy, Steven Fiore, boasts an impressively eclectic resume that includes collaborations with Art Garfunkel and Ryan Cabrera. (So there's the missing spot on the Venn diagram no one ever drew!) "Outro" is a little inside baseball — he seems mostly to be making music about making music here — but the loping melody and fuzz-flecked arrangement are so unassumingly appealing that it's easy enough to bob along even if you've never contemplated the inside of a recording studio.

"The Past," Quetzal featuring David Hidalgo
I'm not sure I've ever really had a chance to talk about this in this space, but I am a huge sucker for the sound of David Hidalgo's voice. Within or without Los Lobos, the honey-coated soulful sound of his vocals is pointless to resist — especially when he's on the melancholy side of the spectrum, as he is in this number from his recent album-length collaboration with Quetzal. Memory and Return pulls pages from the history of east L.A., a subject Hidalgo's intimately acquainted with; on the warmly nostalgic "The Past," he leads us down memory's tightrope, acknowledging the pull of nostalgia while wondering whether our recollections honestly reflect the steps we've taken to get where we are. Absolutely one of my favorite songs of the year.

"Sell You Some," Beast Beast
I don't know a thing about these guys other than that they appear to be Swedish. Their stupidly/coolly unsearchable band name turns up little more than a little-trafficked Instagram page, so I have no colorful facts or background information to offer you; all I can say is that I've been taken in by this song's slinky energy, like someone agreeing to buy a watch from a guy wearing a trenchcoat.

"20teens," Blessing Jolie
This recommendation comes via hat tip from longtime Friend of Jefitoblog Bruce Warren, who deemed "20teens" his "Gotta Hear Song of the Moment" a couple of weeks ago. I'll tell you what I told him — Blessing Jolie sounds like a young Joan Armatrading to me, which is a distinct compliment (and also something I find myself saying far more often lately than I ever would have suspected).

"Creeper," Fluung
An essentially instrumental rocker whose badass bass and driving drums keep things speeding along before the grinding guitar kicks in. Is that enough alliteration for you? Bonus points for the mostly off-mic screaming that pops up every now and then. A fine soundtrack for hitting the treadmill, speeding while you're pissed off, or polishing off a rage room.

"Double Dutch," Liquid Mike
Speaking of strong mid-to-late '90s vibes, here's "Double Dutch," which cheerfully makes next to no sense while rocking your lame ass in a very '90s kind of way. What I'm saying here is that Liquid Mike sounds like the secret best garage band in the world — all classic rock chords and power pop 'tude, with enough hooks and high harmonies to distract from the fact that lines like "Out of touch out of towner / Buying fruit just to watch it turn browner" feel like they were selected solely because they scan well.

"Rhythmic Rhodes," Stephen Vitiello • Brendan Canty • Hahn Rowe
If you recognize the name of former Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty here, you'll likely enter "Rhythmic Rhodes" with a certain set of eardrum-rattling expectations; if you recognize the name of prolific jazz player Hahn Rowe, you'll have an entirely different set. Bring them both together with punk guitarist-turned-soundscape-builder Stephen Vitiello, and what do you get? In the case of "Rhythmic Rhodes," a dreamy, drone-y swirl of sound that starts out feeling like it has no particular place to go before building into a subtly tense work that wouldn't sound out of place in a Wim Wenders film. The type of thing you could easily put on repeat for an hour.

"Mr. Revival (Duet Version)," Your Smith featuring Michael McDonald
Those of you who know of the great fondness I have in my heart for Michael McDonald may have been surprised by the lack of attention I afforded the record he released with the Doobie Brothers earlier this year. I was a little surprised myself, but the truth is that — as I've written previously — the reunions fans clamor loudest for are usually the ones that don't really have a prayer of delivering on expectations. Did I want to hear McD make new music with the Doobies? Absolutely, but more importantly, I wanted to feel the way I felt the first time I heard "Here to Love You" or "What a Fool Believes," and ain't nothing making that happen in 2025. That new Doobies record is competent, but it lacks a spark.

I do not say all of this to lay the groundwork for an argument suggesting that the recently released "duet version" of Your Smith's "Mr. Revival" is loaded with spark; really, it's a nice song, no more and no less. But it does utilize McD's unmistakeable vocals in a more energetic and inspired way than anything I remember hearing on that Doobies album, and it's also pretty catchy, so here you go.

"OK," Getdown Services
When Friend of Jefitoblog Alana Chase commented on a recent post by recommending this group as a potential source of "very strange grit," I was immediately intrigued — and then when I saw that the second track on their recently released Crumbs 2 album is titled "Vomit, Piss and Shit," I figured I was in for some very strange grit indeed. Writing all this before handing you over to the rather smooth and easily melodic "OK" is what's known as wrongfooting, but only a little; this song might sound like something you'd hear while watching Molly Ringwald make out with Andrew McCarthy 40 years ago, but it doesn't tell the whole story of the record, much of which is stranger and grittier than what you hear here.