"FINALLY ALONE" MAC DEMARCO (2019)

There’s a lingering wanderlust in Mac DeMarco’s songs, and there’s nothing really subtle about it. It’s part of the Mac charm, really. While Salad Days may be his crowning achievement, one of my favorite albums is Five Easy Hot Dogs from 2023. It’s when Mac packed up and got in his ‘94 Land Cruiser to drive solo across America, recording whatever came to mind. This led to a delicious collection of instrumentals where Mac’s personality and storytelling transcend lyrics and make their way into his musical compositions. I play the album and it’s like I’m looking at sketches from a travel journal.

Rewind a few years back to 2019 and we find more travel-inspired songs on the light and humorous Here Comes The Cowboy album, most notably “Finally Alone”. Cruising along from the get-go on a peppy bass line, I’m suddenly on the journey as if Mac just grabbed me off the train platform and pulled me on board. And, of course, I don’t want to get off this train. The lyrics draw me in the way most of Mac’s songs do. With an intuitive feel for going beneath the surface while simultaneously not taking itself too seriously. That formula works well on “Finally Alone”.

The power of the song might be this: there’s an undeniable sense of relief in those lyrics that I think introverts and extroverts alike can relate to. And before you know it, two minutes and change into this journey, it’s over. Mac, I wouldn’t mind if you grab me off the train platform for another go.

“SICK OF THE CITY, LOCKED IN WITH ALL THE PRETTY PEOPLE. YOU NEED A VACATION. SOMEWHERE THAT NO ONE EVER WOULD DREAM TO GO. SOMEWHERE MUNDANE, HOP ON THE TRAIN, SEE WHERE IT GOES.”

"CASPIAN TIGER" BEIRUT (2025)

Zach Condon once explained that his band name Beirut is a reference to a place of conflict where different cultures clash. This may be the very reason why I periodically go back to Beirut’s catalog. Rather than being in the mood for a particular music genre, it could be the clash of indie pop moments and various world music influences has its momentary appeal and is just the thing I need.

In anticipation of Beirut’s next album release, Condon released two singles: “Guericke’s Unicorn” and “Caspian Tiger”. The former unabashedly leans into the pop sensibilities of the band with its trance-like synth bed. But “Caspian Tiger” takes a divergent path down a stripped down exploration of classical elements.

The lone piano notes create a sense of loneliness and despair. It seems doomed from the start. But the piano isn’t alone. It’s quietly surrounded by vocal harmonies and instrumentation that, to my untrained ear, sound like a melodica, accordion and an acoustic guitar or mandolin. These elements create a sense of buoyancy, creating a surprising glimmer of hope. There are themes here that are unmistakably Beirut. But the one aspect that really shines on “Caspian Tiger” is Condon’s delicate lead vocals where he achieves a delicate balance of quiet and powerful, floating effortlessly into falsetto. Absolutely stunning.

“YOU’RE ALSO DYING. YOU’RE ALSO SAFE.”

"CASIMIR PULASKI DAY" SUFJAN STEVENS (2005)

For the month of November, I’ll be selecting songs in conjunction with the music Twitter challenge: #WelcomeToTheOccupation.

Sufjan Stevens’ state project is like Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia. It’s an unfinished masterpiece where we can only look to the individual elements of the greater vision in Sufjan's head for our own inspiration. We found that most prominently on the Illinois album, a collection of songs and clever musical interludes — with “Casimir Pulaski Day” right smack in the middle.

Sufjan has never been shy to explore Christian spirituality in his songs, which added a depth to Illinois. He made it far more than just an album about a state. On “Casimir Pulaski Day”, we hear references to bible study group prayers paired with Sufjan’s signature instrumentation. Evoking a Wes Anderson vibe, he made the banjo and the trumpet the stars — sucking out percussion entirely. Like many Sufjan Stevens’ acoustic recordings, it sounds like it’s being played in your living room.

“Tuesday night at the Bible study, we lift our hands and pray over your body. But nothing ever happens.”

"PULASKI AT NIGHT" ANDREW BIRD (2013)

A great title track is par for the course when it comes to great albums. If the title track doesn’t cut it, what does that say about the album itself? This month, the Mental Jukebox will be playing some of my favorite title tracks – inspired by @NicolaB_73’s music Twitter challenge, #TopTitleTracks.

Some of the most powerful songs we have are the ones written about the songwriter’s hometown. The majority of songs take on an authenticity and a personal meaning that go far beyond the stereotypes and expectedness. It’s those elements or raw and real that seap into a song’s bones, like John Mellencamp’s “Small Town”, Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Californication”, Billy Joel’s “New York State of Mind”, and the list goes on. This takes me to Andrew Bird’s title track off I Want To See Pulaski At Night.

I’ve seen Bird perform this a handful of times at various venues—from Terminal 5 to Brooklyn Steel. What strikes me most about the song is its versatility. It was the beautiful violin arrangements that won me over at first. While I’ve seen both full string performances and stripped-down versions, later I came to realize it’s Bird’s love letter lyrics to his hometown of Chicago and the melody that it dances along to that I love most about “Pulaski At Night”.

“I PAINT YOU A PICTURE OF PULASKI AT NIGHT. COME BACK TO CHICAGO. CITY OF, CITY OF LIGHT.”

"HELPLESSNESS BLUES" FLEET FOXES (2011)

A great title track is par for the course when it comes to great albums. If the title track doesn’t cut it, what does that say about the album itself? This month, the Mental Jukebox will be playing some of my favorite title tracks – inspired by @NicolaB_73’s music Twitter challenge, #TopTitleTracks.

Some bands have that ability to transport us back to another era. With the Fleet Foxes, I feel like I’m in Woodstock, laying on the lawn and getting lost in the fantastic harmonies of CSNY. This is not a slight to the band that they make me think of another band. The songwriting, melodies and vocals are all still entirely Fleet Foxes. Just listen to “Helplessness Blues” to hear all the proof you need.

The album, as a whole, is considered to be one of the finest folk records of the 21st century. It has appeared on many “best of 2011” lists and has even earned a Grammy nomination. While I don’t pay much attention to these types of accolades, I think it’s relevant here because of the type of music we’re talking about. Helplessness Blues helped bring this brand of folk music back to the forefront.

“I don't need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you.”

"WHITE WINTER HYMNAL" FLEET FOXES (2008)

The moment a song is born, the world is different. It’s now a part of our lives. We sing it in the shower. We dance to it at our wedding. We get pumped with it. We break up to it. We memorize it. We try to forget it. We rediscover it. This month, I’m joining Arron Wright’s Twitter music challenge: ##Popiversary2. Because why the hell not. Songs deserve their own anniversaries, too.

Year: 2008

By no means is Fleet Foxes on the same level as CSN&Y. CSN&Y are music legends, the kind that maybe come around once every 20 years or so if we’re lucky. But Fleet Foxes isn’t that far behind. What Fleet Foxes pulled off in the 21st century is impressive. They put power harmonies center stage once again. And they did it with a folk-inspired sound that’s earthy and natural, a far cry from post-punk, dream pop or any of the key genres of their contemporaries. “White Winter Hymnal” remains one of my go-to Fleet Foxes tracks.

Like many Fleet Foxes songs, “White Winter Hymnal” shimmers with a cascade of echoing melodies from the mountains. The song is sung in rounds, a traditional form of singing that seemed to be given a new lease on life through the ban'd’s trademark harmonies where each vocal part comes in round after round. This approach has a way of sweeping me up and away, regardless of circumstance. And the words overdelivered. They felt more like classic literature than song lyrics, leading me to believe the character Michael was an allegory for something far greater.

“I WAS FOLLOWING THE PACK. ALL SWALLOWED IN THEIR COATS WITH SCARVES OF RED TIED 'ROUND THEIR THROATS.”

"FOURTH OF JULY" SUFJAN STEVENS (2015)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

In my mind, there may not be a more contemplative album on life and death than Sufjan Stevens’ Carrie & Lowell and there may not ever be one in the future. The theme. The lyrics. The melodies. The production. Everything is working together so poignantly to help us know Sufjan’s mother and her second husband. It’s their life and their memories presented track by track like we’re flipping through an old photo album – and midway we stumble upon “Fourth of July”.

The ethereal quality in the song feels like the foggy cloud that we can’t shed from these moments even if we tried. It seems to be more beneficial to embrace the cloud – and even use it as a new lens from which to remember the moment even after it passes. To close out the song, Sufjan repeats one line “We’re all gonna die” several times as if it’s the only thing his family learned. But I would argue that the making of “Fourth of July” and the entire Carrie & Lowell album taught him much, much more about his family and himself.

“The hospital asked should the body be cast
Before I say goodbye, my star in the sky.”

"IMITOSIS" ANDREW BIRD (2007)

This month, I’m jumping into the #APlaceInTheSong challenge from @JukeboxJohnny2. Great songs have that special ability to describe places in a way that makes us feel like we’re right there. Each day, I’ll pick a track that I think accomplishes that feat.

Music can be quite a remarkable thing to enjoy solo, but I think it’s best when experienced with like-minded fans. My wife and I don’t have a ton of common music interests, but Andrew Bird – among a few other artists – is someone we both agree on. Almost every time he performs in New York City, we make it a date night. For that reason alone, I think I’ve enjoyed his shows even more than I typically would. Bird’s catalog is quite extensive, but thankfully he still plays “Imitosis” from his 2007 album Armchair Apocrypha.

“Imitosis” is, in many ways, a very typical Andrew Bird song in that it’s very atypical. His instrumentation is always daring, bringing in different types for different songs. Here he breaks out the Glockenspiel, which adds a light accent that’s perfect for the track. Moreover, the rhythm seems more influenced by Argentine tango than Americana folk, making the track a playful one. In the live setting, the song really comes alive. I just hope Bird keeps on playing it.

“Tell me doctor, can you quantify The reason why?”

"PRETTY GIRL FROM RALEIGH" THE AVETT BROTHERS (2003)

For the next 30 days, I’ll be taking the #AprilAcrossAmerica challenge, picking one song a day as I make my way across the country and across genres at the same time.

Day 13: Raleigh, NC

Seems so rock ‘n roll to write a song about a girl. “Layla”, “Roseanne”, “Amanda”, “Roxanne”, “Michelle”, “Maggie May”, “Sweet Jane”, the list goes on and on and on. Most of these songs obviously focus on the girl and the persona. Which is what makes The Avett Brothers ongoing “Pretty Girl…” series so unique. These are nameless girls. The songs are largely focused on the stories and the place that the girls come from. As I head south on the journey, it seemed as good a time as ever to pay a visit with The Avett Brothers.

“Pretty Girl From Raleigh”. Who is she anyway? Just a local girl? College student? Budding tech guru? Does it even matter? The song isn’t about her. It’s about the memories that were forged between her and the lucky, selfish man. One thing’s certain. The Avett Brothers love pretty girls. And they’ve been able to pass along these anecdotes rather well with their crossover appeal – from bluegrass to folk to indie rock audiences.

“Who sold you this anger? I suspect it was your friends. Or was it a stranger Convincing you that this was the end.”

"CONCERNING THE UFO SIGHTING NEAR HIGHLAND, ILLINOIS" SUFJAN STEVENS (2005)

For the next 30 days, I’ll be taking the #AprilAcrossAmerica challenge, picking one song a day as I make my way across the country and across genres at the same time.

Day 10: Highland, IL

Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois album is one of my favorite records from the 2000’s. Combining Stevens’ unique storytelling ability, orchestral musicality, vulnerable exploration of Christian themes and the promise of a state project (which turned out to be a joke), Illinois had this sense of gravity and boldness that’s missing on so many albums of that era. It wasn’t trying to be great. It just was. A perfect example is the understated and subtle opener, “Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois”.

Google says there was an actual UFO sighting in Highland five years before this song was released. Whether you believe that or not, “Concerning the UFO” is probably Sufjan Stevens at the height of his state project. The song welcomes you into the moment. One of the most imaginative vignettes on the Illinois album, there’s a quiet wonder to every musical layer—vocals, piano, flute, recorder. Play it outside at night and the music might be just enough to help you imagine the sighting.

“INCARNATION, THREE STARS DELIVERING SIGNS AND DUSTING FROM THEIR EYES.”

"EVERY AGE" JOSE GONZALEZ (2015)

This month, I’m looking back at movies and tv shows to rediscover songs that graced the screen. The scenes and the music are inseparable. They’re engrained in our heads and our hearts. And they’re proof that the best music we have doesn’t exist in isolation. It attaches itself to a moment or an experience. #SceneSongs

TV Series: Parenthood

One of the most underrated guitar players and one of the most understated songwriters of our time, Jose Gonzalez is one of my go-to’s whenever I want something chill. Over the last several years, my wife and I have made date nights out of his shows whenever he’s in town. “Every Age” is one of his simplest, but most reflective songs. When life moves too fast, it’s good to have a song like “Every Age” reminding us to slow the hell down, take a deep breath and stay grounded with a larger perspective. This is also a key strength of the television series Parenthood.

The song “Every Age” appears in the second to last episode of the final season of Parenthood. In the momentous scene, Amber gives birth to a baby – and she’s surrounded by family spanning four generations. It’s absolutely the right scene with the right song. Together, the picture and the music create a sense of wonderment where life seems to happen so quickly, yet simultaneously feels frozen in time.

“TAKE THIS MIND, TAKE THIS PEN. TAKE THIS DREAM OF A BETTER LAND. TAKE YOUR TIME, BUILD A HOME. BUILD A PLACE WHERE WE ALL CAN BELONG.”

“TRANSCONTINENTAL, 1:30 A.M.” VIENNA TENG (2006)

I started Mental Jukebox nearly three years ago at the beginning of the pandemic. During this time, I’ve discovered new music, rediscovered old favorites and I’ve met passionate music fans around the world. And when things opened up, I kept on blogging. This month, the jukebox goes deeper. The term “deep cut” has multiple meanings. It can refer to lesser known album tracks from well-known artists. It can also refer to tracks from lesser known artists. This month, I’ll be featuring both types. #DeepCutsFeb

A friend introduced me to the music of Vienna Teng several years ago by way of the album Waking Hour and the piano-heavy song “Gravity” in particular. I didn’t need any convincing that there was talent here in her understated presence. With Vienna, it felt very much felt like a friend was writing and performing these songs. There was nothing hyped about her music, which points to the strength and pure talent embodied in her songwriting. My stance remained unchanged when Dreaming Through The Noise was released, which contains my deep cut pick for today, “Transcontinental, 1:30 a.m.”.

The best songs are the ones that invite us to be a part of their story. The great ones make us feel like we’ve transported to another place. “Transcontinental, 1:30 a.m.” accomplishes this. Vienna may have written it to be about trying to make a long-distance relationship work. But every single time I play it, without fail, I’m brought to a quiet and empty airport terminal that turns into a dark, smokey jazz club in the dead of night. And I don’t want to leave.

“I know we're transcontinental, 1:30 a.m. and there's not even a wire. Just a whispering in air. I know we're transcontinental, 1:30 a.m. but I'm here.”

"BLUE BUCKET OF GOLD" SUFJAN STEVENS (2015)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

There are many great Sufjan Stevens albums – and great they are for different reasons. But the ones I keep coming back to are the albums that are focused more on the simple songwriting and melodies than instrumental experimentation. Seven Swans does this. The famed Illinoise album does, too. My third favorite album on the simpler side of the spectrum within Sufjans’ catalog is Carrie & Lowell – an intensely personal album full of anecdotes and confessions as if they’re told from an old friend. Every track is a minimalistic songwriting wonder, including the closer “Blue Bucket Of Gold”.

A song for the dead of night, “Blue Bucket Of Gold” resides in the quiet, in the darkness. Sufjan sings like he’s speaking softly on the other end of the phone – and every single word is visceral. It is achingly honest, vulnerable and intimate, framed by the artist’s unique chord structures emanating from an echoey, chilling synthesizer. The synth sounds swirl solo for the last minute and a half, like the remnants of the words uttered. A perfect track choice to wind down Carrie & Lowell.

“Search for things to extol. Friend, the fables delight me. My blue bucket of gold. Lord, touch me with lightning.”

"ETHIO INVENTION NO. 2" ANDREW BIRD (2013)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

The celestial presence of I Want To See Pulaski At Night makes it my favorite Andrew Bird album. But it’s worth stating, I don’t think there’s even one weak album in his entire catalog. His folky foray into beautifully crafted string arrangements, whistle refrains and wry lyrical explorations never gets old for me. From this album, “Pulaski At Night” is the track that has the most awareness and appearance on Bird’s live set lists. But the closer – “Ethio Invention No. 2” is just as much a thing of beauty.

As the song descends on your earbuds or speakers, I feel simultaneously lifted up into the ether when I hear it. As I mentioned before, there’s a celestial aspect to the entire album. With this closing track, in particular, Bird introduces us to a new galaxy of wonderment. It’s like he was holding out on us the entire album until this last track comes on. The plucks are like flickering stars and the violin interludes are like dazzling comets darting every which way. The track is a journey you take with your mind’s eye, not just your ears.

"OPEN BOOK" JOSE GONZALEZ (2015)

You can get off to a fast start. You can sustain your opener with the main course, not filler. But can you end on a high note? Sometimes I wonder if recording a strong closer is the most difficult thing to pull off when it comes to album rock. When it comes to the cream of the crop in music, I can think of more strong openers than strong closers. Nonetheless, I still have my favorites which I’ll be featuring on Mental Jukebox all month.

In the hectic pace of daily life, the music of Jose Gonzalez has been a source of respite for me. Whether it’s putting on one his albums or going to a show, his music is best appreciated in silence and wonder. A reminder to slow down, process everything that’s around me, and everything that has led up to this moment. Vestiges & Claws is an album full of reflective, coming-of-age songs. The track “Open Book” is placed delicately in the final track position like a punctuation mark.

Across his body of work, the intricate guitar musings of Jose Gonzalez remains one of his strong suits. The finger picking is a marvel to behold – something designed for the listener to get lost in. “Open Book” is simultaneously an open book and a mysterious sign. After listening to it, I wonder for a moment if I’m a bit older and wiser than before. And, in many ways, this is something to expect when listening to just about any other song of his.

“I feel just like an open book, Exposing myself in this neighborhood. Talking to people as if I'd knew them well. Thinking that everyone has come through different kinds of hell.”

"ALL THE TREES OF THE FIELD WILL CLAP THEIR HANDS" SUFJAN STEVENS (2004)

Great album openers get the listeners to keep on listening. They can do this in any number of ways. Some openers set the tone by easing us in. Others jump right in and blow our minds from the very beginning. A great album opener isn’t an easy thing to create. More than a great song, it’s all about the sequence. Track 1 has to be the perfect starter. This month, I’m highlighting my favorites. #AlbumOpeningSongs

Seven Swans isn’t just one of my favorite Sufjan Stevens albums (up there with Illinois and Carrie & Lowell), it’s one of my favorite albums period. It’s hard to come across another recording that’s as reflective, spiritual, melodic and deeply personal. As the opener, “All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands” became an altar call for a new, pioneering musical expression.

The unique sound of “All the Trees” and the entire Seven Swans album is a musical paradox. It takes the banjo — an instrument typically used to accentuate energy, fast tempos and a sense of celebration — and turns it on his head. Sufjan used his slow, meandering banjo strums to create an aura of meditative reflection and slow down the tempo to a near halt. It’s not just about a spiritual experience. It’s a spiritual experience in itself. The banjo seems to capture murmurs straight from the heart.

““I am joining all my thoughts to you. And I'm preparing every part for you.”

"UPWARD OVER THE MOUNTAIN" IRON & WINE (2002)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 9

Production – or a lack of it – sometimes can be the defining statement of an album. Some of my favorite albums of well-known established artists are the ones that take a minimalist approach. Beck’s Sea Change. Sufjan Stevens’ Seven Swans. And, of course, Springsteen’s Nebraska. Iron & Wine’s debut album follows a similar path, recorded initially as a demo on a 4-track, and stayed that way all the way through the album release. If you ever need to be convinced that less is more, the song “Upward Over the Mountain” is all the proof you need.

The song is all Sam Beam. The melody and whispery vocals highly reminiscent of Sufjan Stevens. The rhythm acoustic guitar that seems like it was made for fireside singalongs. And the distinctive slide solo that appears midway through the song, injecting a bright, optimistic disposition over the song. “Upward Over the Mountain” is two parts assurance, one part wallow, somehow capturing just the right balance.

“So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten. Sons are like birds flying always over the mountain.”

"HOLOCENE" BON IVER (2011)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 2

Some of the best songs we have aren’t the ones we immerse ourselves in. They’re the ones we get immersed by. “Holocene” has always been that way for me. I feel overtaken by it every time I hear it. Does that even make any sense at all? I don’t know. I wish I could explain it better. But I feel like I’m simply no longer in control when I listen to those disparate acoustic guitar strums, ethereal falsetto murmur and swirling synth lines washing over me.

The lyrics and musicality are joined at the hip in “Holocene”. The union of these two elements is so strong that Justin Vernon’s stunning vocals feels like another atmospheric instrumental element being played on the track, not sung. Like much of Bon Iver’s catalog, it’s the kind of song that contains a greater power and exudes a deeper resonance when you play it in the middle of the night. “Holocene” just seems to feel at home when there are no other sounds to distract it, or us.

“Hulled far from the highway aisle. Jagged vacance, thick with ice. I could see for miles, miles, miles.”

"NANTES" BEIRUT (2007)

I generally gravitate to the music first before the lyrics. But as a writer, I still marvel at well-spun verses and choruses. This month, I’m joining the music Twitter community in #SeptSongLyricChallenge

Day 28

Few artists take me away like Beirut. I put on a Beirut album and immediately I’m swept away into another land and another time. Listening to a series of Beirut songs back to back is like flipping through a dusty pile of old postcards from distant places. Each track on The Flying Club Cup album evokes a different city or region in France. Nantes is a small port city off the Atlantic coast. When I listen to this track, I feel like I’m there. I’m transported to an outdoor cafe at night by the sea listening to a man drowning in his sorrows over a lost love.

“Well it's been a long time, long time now since I've seen you smile. And I'll gamble away my fright. And I'll gamble away my time. And in a year, a year or so this will slip into the sea.”

"SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER" SUFJAN STEVENS (2015)

I generally gravitate to the music first before the lyrics. But as a writer, I still marvel at well-spun verses and choruses. This month, I’m joining the music Twitter community in #SeptSongLyricChallenge

Day 24

Carrie & Lowell was a return to form for Sufjan. Not that the last couple of albums that preceded it were bad. But it seemed the artist was free from the need to experiment electronically and ready to return to a minimalist, folk-driven sound, perhaps most reminiscent of the stark simplicity of Seven Swans. By stripping away the instrumentation, all attention went to the lyrics throughout this deeply personal album about his recently deceased mother and step-father. “Should Have Known Better” feels like a late night of insomnia flipping through old photo albums that are equally treasured and torturous.

“I should have known better. To see what I could see. My black shroud holding down my feelings. A pillar for my enemies.”