"DEAR CATASTROPHE WAITRESS" BELLE & SEBASTIAN (2003)

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

Belle & Sebastian has made a career out of crafting volumes and volumes of character-based stories with a folk, 60’s-inspired flair. So leave it to Belle & Sebastian to write an eccentric letter to an eccentric character. The album of the same name had more well-known B&S staples like “Piazza, New York Catcher” and “If She Wants Me”. But “Dear Catastrophe Waitress” rises above them all.

“Dear Catastrophe Waitress” just does its own thing. Characteristic of the album as a whole, the song feels more polished and produced than previous B&S recordings. This title track is like a jovial slice of old Hollywood, incorporating musical embellishments such as horns and synth strings. While the unusual time signature and melody are what we expect from the band, the instrumental choices weren’t their standard fare.

“You'll soon be leaving this town to the clowns who worship no one but themselves.”

"SUCH GREAT HEIGHTS" THE POSTAL SERVICE (2003)

As an eighties kid, synth pop has been pumping in my blood ever since that first day I turned on my MTV. There’s some debate as to who’s considered a synth pop band and who isn’t. For this September Music Twitter challenge – #SynthPopSeptember – I’m focusing more on what’s considered synth pop, not who. The songs I’m featuring on Mental Jukebox this month aren’t solely composed of synthesizers. There may be drums, bass, and dare I say, electric guitars. But each of these songs were picked because the synthesizer is core to its being.

The Postal Service got its name from the way in which they collaborated from different parts of the country, sending each other tapes with early music sketches and ideas. It might not be the best way to collaborate, but it worked wonders here. Led by Death Cab’s Ben Gibbard, The Postal Service only gathered together for one album. But Give Up was a strong showing – and the undisputed anthem is the single, “Such Great Heights”.

With both Death Cab For Cutie and The Postal Service, Gibbard’s songs have often felt calculated, pensive, yet strangely liberating at the same time. “Such Great Heights” feels like a ticking bomb that could go off at any moment. The smatterings of synth notes and electronic percussion feed into this, but Gibbard’s unusually earnest vocals only create more urgency on the track. “Such Great Heights” takes us to the pinnacle and back.

“And I have to speculate That God Himself did make Us into corresponding shapes Like puzzle pieces from the clay.”

"KIDS" MGMT (2007)

As an eighties kid, synth pop has been pumping in my blood ever since that first day I turned on my MTV. There’s some debate as to who’s considered a synth pop band and who isn’t. For this September Music Twitter challenge – #SynthPopSeptember – I’m focusing more on what’s considered synth pop, not who. The songs I’m featuring on Mental Jukebox this month aren’t solely composed of synthesizers. There may be drums, bass, and dare I say, electric guitars. But each of these songs were picked because the synthesizer is core to its being.

While synth pop’s hey day is indisputably the eighties, the genre has enjoyed multiple resurgences, including the mid-2000s when bands found new ways to create melodic pop hooks using synthesizers. Some bands rocked a little harder like LCD Soundsystem. Others went more experimental like Grizzly Bear and Animal Collective. Still, others kept the focus on infectious pop melodies, like Phoenix and MGMT. In 2007, there was no song more emblematic of this era than “Kids”.

It seemed like “Kids” was everywhere, becoming an anthem at parties and clubs with its signature synth hook. I still remember the power of that song, especially when it was delivered on giant club speakers. The single came in with an air of carefree optimism at the start of the recession. It was like an escape. Listening back to it now, I’m reminded of the power of music – its ability to change the dynamic and the mood of the room in an instant.

“Take only what you need from it.”

"SEASONS (WAITING ON YOU)" FUTURE ISLANDS (2014)

As an eighties kid, synth pop has been pumping in my blood ever since that first day I turned on my MTV. There’s some debate as to who’s considered a synth pop band and who isn’t. For this September Music Twitter challenge – #SynthPopSeptember – I’m focusing more on what’s considered synth pop, not who. The songs I’m featuring on Mental Jukebox this month aren’t solely composed of synthesizers. There may be drums, bass, and dare I say, electric guitars. But each of these songs were picked because the synthesizer is core to its being.

How many bands sing and play with all their soul? How many bands put everything they have into the music because it’s all they got and it’s all they live for? Probably not many. Future Islands is one of them. They’re proof that synthesizers still have soul. Proof that you don’t have to act like or look like a rock band to make some noise in this industry. And if you absolutely love what you do, you can make people love it, too. “Seasons” is strangely contagious and utterly ambitious. Hands down, one of the best songs from the last 10 years – and it all starts with the lyrics.

Future Islands’ performance of “Seasons” on the David Letterman show was probably one of the best musical performances on a late night talk show in history. You could feel the passion for the music. And if there’s no passion then really what’s the point? The synth notes glide in and out like they’re pressing buttons on our soul. Meanwhile, I can’t say enough about Samuel Herring’s vocals on this one. There’s just nothing else like it.

“Seasons change, and I tried hard just to soften you. The seasons change, but I've grown tired of tryin' to change for you.”

"PET GRIEF" THE RADIO DEPT. (2006)

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.

If you don’t know The Radio Dept., think Pet Shop Boys meets Cocteau Twins. Icy synth riffs go hand in hand with the dream pop world created on Pet Grief. Is it too polished? Possibly. But it’s that sense of gliding with the music that gives the record its edge. It’s an ambient record where one song bleeds seamlessly into the next. I had to table it at first when I was first introduced to them. The Radio Dept. didn’t rock hard enough for me. But eventually my openness to dream pop emerged, starting with the title track.

“Pet Grief” doesn’t rock to be sure, it rolls. This is the pace and stance of the entire album where the title track serves as a microcosm of the greater world that The Radio Dept. creates inside our heads. The Pet Shop Boys’ influence on the band is uncanny with the various synth parts all reminiscent of Chris Lowe’s canon. Johan Duncanson’s vocals seem almost despondent, which works well on this track whether he meant it or not.

“I'll shut my mouth for you. Anything you want me to.”

"ALWAYS A RELIEF" THE RADIO DEPT. (2006)

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: 2006

When I was first introduced to The Radio Dept., I realized that all the other music that I was listening to at the time was characterized by bold, angular guitar riffs. Most of it probably had some association with post-punk revival. So when I first heard the Lesser Matters and Pet Grief albums, it felt like a soft landing into a new world. Less mind-numbing than the shoegaze pioneers, The Radio Dept.’s brand of dream pop seemed perfect for lazy music discovery days or the kind of thing you’d put on in the background for ordinary days. I could’ve picked any song off of Pet Grief to highlight, but I’ll go with the exceptional closing track “Always a Relief”.

The tones on the opening drum sequence are a warm welcome, feeling reminiscent of the opening drumbeat in Joy Division’s “Disorder”. “Always a Relief” then slips into its gorgeous minor guitar chords, with. progressions that are almost as resistant to movement as one might be lying in bed on a rainy day. Like many Radio Dept. songs, the lyrics aren’t extensive, and the instrumentation isn’t exactly the most versatile display of the band’s abilities. “Always a Relief” is like a mood piece. A perfect ending to an album full of similarly dreamy moments.

“IT FEELS LIKE OUR TIME HAS GONE TO WASTE.”

"VCR" THE XX (2009)

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: 2009

The XX created a world where minimal instrumentation, nearly comatose vocals and pregnant pauses came together beautifully. A case where certainly the whole is great than the sum of its parts. The debut album was something that had to be listened to from beginning to end. It was a new musical expression that needed time to truly sink in. “Intro” and “Crystalised” are the more recognizable and ambitious tracks. So I’ll go with a less obvious pick: “VCR”.

“VCR” is about dreaming of big moments while living in these seemingly insignificant ones, like watching VCR tapes. The song meanders with the sleepy vocals where Romy and Oliver take turns. The super simple guitar line miraculously works. Everything on a superficial level may appear to be underwhelming. But the song is transcendent. Any other band plays it, and you might dismiss it. But this is all part of what The XX was trying to accomplish in space. Less is more.

“WATCH THINGS ON VCRS WITH ME AND TALK ABOUT BIG LOVE. I THINK WE'RE SUPERSTARS. YOU SAY YOU THINK WE ARE THE BEST THING. BUT YOU, YOU JUST KNOW. YOU JUST DO.”

"SEYMOUR STEIN" BELLE & SEBASTIAN (1998)

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

Movie: High Fidelity

I have unreasonably high expectations for movie soundtracks — and those expectations are even higher when the movie is about music. So when High Fidelity came out in theaters, I wanted something epic. Nick Hornby’s book is one of my all-time favorite reads, mostly because it truly captured the obsessive, and often ridiculous passion we have for music. While the movie soundtrack left a lot to be desired, “Seymour Stein” was one of the few bright spots in my mind.

The Belle & Sebastian classic wasn’t even officially on the soundtrack album, but it appeared in the movie and there’s even a reference to the new Belle & Sebastian single written into the script. “Seymour Stein” is probably one of my favorite B&S songs because of that sleepy, melodic, retro vibe. It’s not something I’d listen to in large doses, but it’s a reminder of that interesting little niche that B&S has carved for itself in the music world that no one else can claim.

“Half a world away. Ticket for a plane. Record company man, I won't be coming to dinner.”

"NIGHT TIME" THE XX (2009)

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

Well, I’m going from one music act with minimalist tendencies to another – this time playing The XX on Mental Jukebox. That debut album is always worth listening to from beginning to end in one sitting. It creates a mood that’s best if it sits with you for a while, and it has the depth to pull it off. Not to take away from “Crystalised” and “Intro”, as they are great tracks themselves, but these more well-known songs are not my favorites. The back half of the record holds up strong – and the mysterious “Night Time” is one of the highlights.

“Night Time” is as esoteric as it is atmospheric. The guitar chords are that much more powerful out in space on this track. The bareness in between notes is what makes the song. There is nowhere to hide. But then at the 2:20 mark, things pick up with Romy’s more urgent guitar playing and that irresistable sliding bass line from Oliver. That mid-tempo shift might just be my favorite part of the song. But that’s the thing with “Night Time”. Next time I play it, I’ll probably find another favorite part to obsess over.

“I walk out in stormy weather. Hope my words keep us together.”

"ISLANDS" THE XX (2009)

Electronic albums play a huge role in my fascination with music. For me, synthesizers and drum machines aren’t better or worse than live drums and guitars. They’re just different. They make music much more imaginative for me. I think Nick Rhodes’ synth parts on those early Duran Duran albums were some of my first loves. Shimmery one moment, jarring the next. Rhodes’ keyboard flourishes changed the complexion of every song. This month, I’m featuring my Top 15 electronic albums along with one featured track.

Album: XX (2009)

In 2009, the XX’s debut album was released, introducing a sound that seemed to fill a clear void. The music was minimalist in every way. Almost shockingly minimalist. Sparse in instrumentation, the melodies thrived in space. XX mastered pregnant pauses and the power of stripped-down riffs and notes. And the album cover reflected back this stark simplicity. Looking back at the album release, “Intro” was probably their most well-known song. It was the track that caught my attention, but “Islands” was the track that made me a believer.

“Islands” is an unassuming track that reeled me in with its simple groove and quiet strength. It was never a threat to be over-produced. There’s a tremendous confidence in how it was composed, clearing the way for Romy Croft and Oliver Sim to deliver the vocals. Like lovers lying in bed whispering sweet nothings, “Islands” had an unexpected vocal approach, treating it like words between two lovers who have sworn loyalty. They’re singing to each other, not to us. The guitar and synth interludes remind us that skill and complexity aren’t everything. Sometimes, the best musical arrangements place an equal emphasis on instrumentation and space. “Islands” is all the proof you need.

“SPEND MY NIGHTS AND DAYS BEFORE SEARCHING THE WORLD FOR WHAT'S RIGHT HERE.”

"INTRO" THE XX (2009)

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

I believe that the word “cinematic” is one of the greatest compliments we can give to a creative expression outside of film. The word denotes visual presence and an aesthetic quality beyond the obvious or expected. It’s not a word to be used lightly. In fact, the word itself carries with it much weight particularly in non-visual creative formats like music. “Intro”, the album opener from The XX’s debut album is that kind of a song. Cinematic from the first to the last note.

Here we have one of the greatest instrumentals of the 21st century. Written by The XX, who were pretty much just kids at the time. Deliberately simple. Monochromatic in its sound. Yet, the song evokes so much beyond the music. This was the song that set the tone for one of the strongest debut albums of the 2000s. I never heard anything like it before. “Intro” was a powerful introduction to a band that mastered minimalism. Delivering a cinematic approach with its clean, stripped down musicality.

"VCR" THE XX (2009)

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 24

The XX created a world where minimal instrumentation, nearly comatose vocals and pregnant pauses came together beautifully. A case where certainly the whole is great than the sum of its parts. The debut album was something that had to be listened to from beginning to end. It was a new musical expression that needed time to truly sink in. “Intro” and “Crystalised” are the more recognizable and ambitious tracks. So I’ll go with a less obvious pick: “VCR”.

“VCR” is about dreaming of big moments while living in these seemingly insignificant ones, like watching VCR tapes. The song meanders with the sleepy vocals where Romy and Oliver take turns. The super simple guitar line miraculously works. Everything on a superficial level may appear to be underwhelming. But the song is transcendent. Any other band plays it, and you might dismiss it. But this is all part of what The XX was trying to accomplish in space. Less is more.

“Watch things on VCRs with me and talk about big love. I think we're superstars. You say you think we are the best thing. But you, you just know. You just do.”

"THE BODY IS A BLADE" JAPANESE BREAKFAST (2017)

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 2

The songs of Soft Sounds From Another Planet are like a bridge from despair to joy. It’s the necessary mourning of death and loss that make joy and hope even possible one day. I love these songs. “Diving Woman”, “Till Death”, “Boyish”, “Road Head” and this one. As Japanese Breakfast suddenly became a hot band nearly overnight last year, I was lucky to catch them live at Brooklyn Steel where they played “The Body Is A Blade”. They say your pain is more meaningful if it becomes the experience that enables you to be there for someone who goes through something similarly painful. I think that’s what Michelle Zauner was doing when she wrote these lyrics.

“Try your best to slowly withdraw. Your body is a blade that moves while your brain is writhing. Knuckled under pain, you mourn but your blood is flowing.”

"WISE UP" AIMEE MANN (1999)

This month, the Mental Jukebox revisits the movie soundtracks of the nineties. The music I’m highlighting are some of my personal favorites. In many cases, the movies themselves were huge for me as well. But the focus will still be on the music – as always. Let’s bring on the throwback classics, the grunge, the gangsta rap, and the indie gems. #31DaysOf90sMovieSongs

Movie: Magnolia

Magnolia is one of those rare gems that benefits from a brilliant album. But the movie didn’t inspire the music. P.T. Anderson clarified that Aimee Mann’s songs actually inspired the film. It’s about the rhythm and sounds of life – where the feeling of isolation is excruciating and unavoidable. The frog scene may be the most iconic moment, but, for me, the most memorable scene was the ensemble performance of “Wise Up”, when each cast member took turns singing the song. What would’ve been a disaster move in another movie just made perfect sense in Magnolia. It just worked. And it wouldn’t have been possible if Aimee Mann didn’t write and record such an incredible song.

It’s interesting that some of the most beautiful songs we know are also some of the most sad songs we know. “Wise Up” is one of them. There are many great Aimee Mann songs on the soundtrack, but what made this one unique was how Mann spanned a range of emotions in a single vocal performance, going from fragile to assured, hopeless to fearless, all within three and a half minutes. While “Wise Up” wasn’t written specifically for Magnolia, it seemed to perfectly convey the condition of each of the characters in the film so well, making it one of my favorite soundtracks of all time.

“You're sure there's a cure. And you have finally found it.”

"SHEILA TAKE A BOW" THE SMITHS (1987)

It’s time to get back to my favorite decade. For the month of March, I’ll be looking back at some of my favorite jams from the 80s. These songs often came to me via MTV or the radio. NYC-area stations WDRE, WPLJ, WNEW, K-ROCK and Z100 introduced me to everything from irresistible pop confections to under-the-radar post-punk anthems. I would not be who I am today if it weren’t for the 80s. It was the decade when I discovered music can be a truly powerful thing. #31DaysOf80sSongs

One of my favorite rock bands of the 80’s, The Smiths were a short-lived phenomenon akin to a romantic fling. It was amazing while it lasted. It went by so fast, but the days were packed. In about a five-year period, the band produced four studio albums, a live album and a couple of compilations. Louder Than Bombs, in particular, was a favorite of mine, one that I remember often playing late into the night. It pulled together a series of disparate Smiths singles and their b-sides that didn’t appear on any of their studio albums. On a record where every track was a standout, some of those b-sides were a-side worthy. But today, I’m playing the Smiths anthem “Sheila Take A Bow” on the Mental Jukebox.

I picked this Smiths track because on top of being a great track it carries the added significance of being the last song that the band performed live. It’s the swan song and, although unintentional, it also has a sense of urgency to it. Marr’s guitar hooks soar high and hover low. Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce play one their more ambitious songs together. And Morrissey penned a lyrical masterpiece. “Boot the grime of this world in the crotch, dear. And don't go home tonight. Come out and find the one that you love and who loves you.” It’s as if the band knew all along this would be their last performance and that they would have to make every second of it count. As Sheila took her bow, Morrissey, Marr, Joyce and Rourke would take one final one as well.

“Boot the grime of this world in the crotch, dear.”

"ALWAYS A RELIEF" THE RADIO DEPT. (2006)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

When I was first introduced to The Radio Dept., I realized that all the other music that I was listening to at the time was characterized by bold, brash guitar riffs and hard edges. Most of it probably had some association with post-punk revival. So when I first heard the Lesser Matters and Pet Grief albums, it felt like a soft landing into a new world. Less mind-numbing than the shoegaze pioneers, The Radio Dept.’s brand of dream pop seemed perfect for lazy music discovery days or the kind of thing you’d put on in the background for ordinary days. I could’ve picked any song off of Pet Grief to highlight, but I’ll go with the exceptional closing track “Always a Relief”.

The tones on the opening drum sequence are a warm welcome, feeling reminiscent of the opening drumbeat in Joy Division’s “Disorder”. “Always a Relief” then slips into its gorgeous minor guitar chords, with. progressions that are almost as resistant to movement as one might be lying in bed on a rainy day. Like many Radio Dept. songs, the lyrics aren’t extensive, and the instrumentation isn’t exactly the most versatile display of the band’s abilities. “Always a Relief” is like a mood piece. A perfect ending to an album full of similarly dreamy moments.

“It feels like our time has gone to waste.”

"COSMIC LOVE" FLORENCE + THE MACHINE (2009)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

When Florence first came onto the scene her sound was so incredibly polished, confident and distinct it felt like she had already been at it for years. Just look at Lungs, probably one of the greatest debut records of all time, greatness that most artists hope to achieve even just once in their career. For me, that greatness all starts with Florence’s voice. No one else sounds like her. She cites Kate Bush, Stevie Nicks and Siouxsie Sioux as influences, but she has her own unique sound. She sings like a siren, howling with this incredible ferocity one moment and singing laser-sharp falsetto interludes effortlessly in another. There isn’t a mediocre track on Lungs, but one of the strongest, in my opinion, is “Cosmic Love”.

When I play it, I feel like I have left this universe. Florence + The Machine was one of the first acts to pioneer the use of the harp in rock — and on “Cosmic Love” the angelic stringed instrument delivers these gorgeous treble notes from the heavens. It’s enough to transport you. But Florence’s vocals took us even further, soaring and swirling its way through space. The music was otherworldly, the melody was divine and the lyrics were transcendent.

“I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map. And knew that somehow I could find my way back.”

"ISLANDS" THE XX (2009)

Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs

In 2009, the XX’s debut album was released, introducing a sound that seemed to fill a clear void. The music was minimalist in every way. Almost shockingly minimalist. Sparse in instrumentation, the melodies thrived in space. XX mastered pregnant pauses and the power of stripped-down riffs and notes. And the album cover reflected back this stark simplicity. Looking back at the album release, “Intro” was probably their most well-known song. It was the track that caught my attention, but “Islands” was the track that made me a believer.

“Islands” is an unassuming track that reeled me in with its simple groove and quiet strength. It was never a threat to be over-produced. There’s a tremendous confidence in how it was composed, clearing the way for Romy Croft and Oliver Sim to deliver the vocals. Like lovers lying in bed whispering sweet nothings, “Islands” had an unexpected vocal approach, treating it like words between two lovers who have sworn loyalty. They’re singing to each other, not to us. The guitar and synth interludes remind us that skill and complexity aren’t everything. Sometimes, the best musical arrangements place an equal emphasis on instrumentation and space. “Islands” is all the proof you need.

“Spend my nights and days before searching the world for what's right here.”

"EASE YOUR FEET IN THE SEA" BELLE & SEBASTIAN (1998)

Each day in November, I’m revisiting a song from the 90’s — a decade that was a sorta coming of age for me. In that span, I experienced high school, college and my time as a young single guy in New York City. It was a decade of ups and downs, and the music never stopped playing during that span. It was always there with me. #30DaysOf90sSongs

If I could step into a time machine to experience a heightened music experience, one of the stops I would make is Laurel Canyon in the 60’s. The notion of groundbreaking musicians going over to other groundbreaking musician’s homes to jam and write music together is much too hard to pass up. I would die to hear the Byrds, CSN&Y, Joni Mitchell and others on their lawns and in their living rooms. But without a time machine, I still have Belle & Sebastian. What I love most about their catalog is that throwback, 60’s Laurel Canyon vibe, which is all over The Boy With the Arab Strap and one of my favorite tracks from it: “Ease Your Feet in the Sea”.

Over the years, B&S has created a wonderful eccentric world filled with eccentric characters, like Lazy Line Painter Jane, Judy, Seymour Stein, Allie, Jill Pole and many others. But one of the most refreshing aspects of “Ease Your Feet in the Sea” is that it’s all about us. The carefree spirit of the song feels as if it’s guiding me to the shoreline with every listen. The song transports me there. The acoustic guitar nudges me along only to be given that final gentle push into the water by the dancing string arrangements.

“Take your shoes off, curl your toes. And I will frame this moment in time.”

"STEP OUT" JOSE GONZALEZ (2013)

Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty was an odd movie about an odd character that happened to have a pretty stellar soundtrack. “Step Out” came out as a single, and isn’t found on any of Jose Gonzalez’s full-length albums. It’s probably one of his most well-known songs, but in many ways it’s wildly different than most of his catalog.

For the most part, Jose Gonzalez’ music tends to exist in a slow, meandering tempo universe. His songs are reflective and atmospheric, often relying on his vocals, incredible acoustic guitar skills, and not much else. In “Step Out”, Gonzalez literally steps out of his comfort zone, revving up the RPMs and bringing in a much fuller sound. The high intensity isn’t built up, it exists from the very beginning — with more instrumentation, uncharacteristically loud percussion and full background vocals. It's a great song that happens to sound nothing like a Jose Gonzalez song.

“House on fire, leave it all behind you. Dark as night, let the lightning guide you.”