Islands in the Stream: 12/18/24

"A Long Way to Go," The Optic Nerve
See, this is what I mean when I say reviews of new songs and albums may not be as important in the streaming era, and we should open ourselves up to covering stuff from the past, be it distant or recent, that deserves to be discovered. The Optic Nerve were a sort of R.E.M.-adjacent pack of Rickenbacker-lovin' garage rockers — but unlike those other guys, they never caught on with a major label, and their beautifully ragged music remains largely unknown. "A Long Way to Go" was released in 1993 as part of the band's Forever and a Day LP, but it could have been recorded yesterday or 60 years ago.

"Don't Feed the Fears," Trey Hughes & the Daydreamers
I am generally in favor of song titles that double as excellent advice, and I am also generally in favor of pop-rock songs that sort of float along and envelop you in a warm fog of kindness and empathy and things like that. "Don't Feed the Fears" checks all those boxes, so I'm including it here; it's pretty simple, really. I hope these guys find their way to a larger audience someday soon.

"Comfy!," superflirt
Here's another floaty pop song — one of those cuts that adds a little vinegar to the pillow-soft vocals by periodically entwining them with a (tastefully mixed) wall of buzzing guitars. You've heard this type of vaguely cinematic midtempo fare before, and probably heard it more times than you can count, but there's a lot to be said for it when it's done well. It's done well here.

"Never End," Jim Camacho
You've most likely never heard of him, but Jim Camacho is a rock 'n' roll lifer — his discography goes back to the late '80s with his band the Goods, whose claims to fame include being produced by Tom Dowd and having Marilyn Manson open for them. After the band split up in the late '90s, Camacho embarked on a solo career that includes a series of albums as well as numerous film/TV song placements — and the instantly hummable "Never End," which was released a few months ago. This is a very A+B=C production, one where all the tabs fit into all the slots exactly as you'd expect, but there are plenty of times when that's an indication of strong songcraft rather than a lack of imagination, and this strikes me as one of those times.

"Born Strangers," The Montvales
In the post-Lumineers/Mumford era, I feel like the sound of a banjo has become a sort of audio trigger for some folks, especially when it's accompanied by high lonesome harmonies. I can understand that point of view even if I don't exactly share it, so I'm doing the compassionate thing here and giving you a heads up: If you've gotten to the point where you simply cannot stand the sound of so-called Americana, then "Born Strangers" and the Montvales are not for you. For the rest of us, this is the sort of finely crafted mason jar music that usually hits the spot.

"Look for Trouble," Joe Crookston
I don't know much about Joe Crookston, but based on "Look for Trouble," I feel like it's safe to assume he's the type of singer-songwriter who tends toward tasteful folk arrangements and extremely earnest lyrics that urge the listener to look for the good in all things. It's very easy to be cynical about this sort of thing, and I've certainly been guilty of that in the past. Not today, though; this is one lovely little song.

"Human Frailty," One True Pairing
One more gently folky number for the latte-sipping granola munchers in the audience. This one sounds, I think, a little like what you might hear if Peter Gabriel was singing with, I dunno, John Gorka or someone like that, but they were in the next room and the song was kind of muffled through the wall. I offer up a lot of compliments here that don't necessarily come across as compliments, and I fear I've just given another one.

"Swan," FØR
Lord have mercy. I compile the songs I pick for these posts over time, and the result I always hope for is that we'll end up with an eclectic bunch of music; the downside of letting the song titles and artist names sit for an extended period is that by the time I get around to writing, I no longer recall anything about them, and as a result, I occasionally find myself writing about a long string of selections that are cut from basically the same cloth. All of which is to say that FØR is a French folk artist who claims Damien Rice as one of his major influences, and this is turning out to be an extremely acoustic edition of this column. This song sure is pretty, though!

"The Nap," Rickshaw Derby
This is getting ridiculous. I sure hope you're all in a folky mood as you're reading this, because the goddamn algorithm sure was. "The Nap" sounds to me like what you might hear if Iron & Wine was ever interested in giving the listener something that sounded like Sam Beam had ever seen the sunlight or had a truly happy day, which is definitely an endorsement. Double-tracked vocals and tasteful instrumentation can smother as easily as they can uplift; I think they do the latter here.

"Nice Walrus," Yesness featuring Kishi Bashi
Is there any such thing as a nice walrus? I'll send Jack Hanna an email to ask him. In the meantime, this is a tasty chunk of instrumental rock that reminds me of the type of thing John Paul Jones got up to with his Zooma and Thunderthief solo LPs — a dash of orchestral drama sprinkled on top of a rock arrangement that works up a sweat without ever getting so aggressive that you can't have the song playing in the background during polite conversation. (You can also turn it way up, of course, which is what I'd recommend.)

"Dumb Rain," Ulla and Ultrafog
We close out with another very gentle number — this one hailing from the Eno-inspired end of the "basically ambient" continuum. Reminds me a little of the record Eno made with Fred Again.. a little while ago, although I suppose it's a tad less melodic than the songs on that album. Not exactly "mood music," but still a pretty solid choice if you're looking for something to keep you company while you're trying to focus.