"ALISON" SLOWDIVE (1993)

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

I was a latecomer to the genius of Slowdive. It wasn’t until the pandemic that their music suddenly resonated with me. Like life at the time – with everyone in my family Zooming in our apartment – the music of Slowdive often feels like layers on top of each other, co-mingling and melding. The music suddenly made sense to me. I understand now why people often say Slowdive songs feel like an escape. I get that same reaction every time I hear their music, including “Alison” off the band’s second album, Souvlaki.

The soaring, swirling feedback-fueled guitar parts are what draws me in. But it’s Halstead’s lyrics that keep me there in that space of utter detachment from the rest of the world. The feeling mirrors Halstead’s own escape to Wales following his breakup with Goswell. Which reminds me of a quality I’ve long admired in music – where the songwriter’s emotions become our own. It’s what makes “Alison” autobiographical in its own unconventional way.

“And the sailors, they strike poses. TV covered walls, and so slowly With your talking and your pills, Your messed up life still thrills me.”

"FALLING ASHES" SLOWDIVE (2017)

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: 2017

The eponymously-titled album was the band’s first studio output in over 20 years. It’s highly unusual for a band to come back to record like that after such a lengthy hiatus. It’s even more unusual for a band to arrive in such spectactular form as Slowdive did in 2017, like not a single day passed since 1995’s Pygmalion. Their most recent studio album not only held up, it became my favorite Slowdive record. A big part of that is due to the strength of the final track, “Falling Ashes”.

What’s great about “Falling Ashes” is that it doesn’t depend on distortion and pedal effects to create the atmosphere. There’s an overwhelming expansiveness to the whole album where Slowdive uses some of their tried-and-true techniques, but “Falling Ashes” shows us a maturation to the band yet this is still undeniably Slowdive in every way. Impossibly beautiful. Unflinchingly contemplative. Utterly immersive.

“Love of my life, GRACE of my night.”

"FALLING ASHES" SLOWDIVE (2017)

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

The eponymously-titled album was the band’s first studio output in over 20 years. It’s highly unusual for a band to come back to record like that after such a lengthy hiatus. It’s even more unusual for a band to arrive in such spectactular form as Slowdive did in 2017, like not a single day passed since 1995’s Pygmalion. Their most recent studio album not only held up, it became my favorite Slowdive record. A big part of that is due to the strength of the final track, “Falling Ashes”.

What’s great about “Falling Ashes” is that it doesn’t depend on distortion and pedal effects to create the atmosphere. There’s an overwhelming expansiveness to the whole album where Slowdive uses some of their tried-and-true techniques, but “Falling Ashes” shows us a maturation to the band yet this is still undeniably Slowdive in every way. Impossibly beautiful. Unflinchingly contemplative. Utterly immersive.

“Love of my life, GRACE of my night.”

"TELL" THE RADIO DEPT. (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

Putting The Radio Dept.’s first two full-length albums side by side – Lesser Matters and Pet Grief – I have trouble saying which one I like better. They are quite different from each other. The band’s debut album has more guitars, more of that characteristics shoegaze distortion and fuzz, and more variations. But the remarkable consistency between the tracks on their sophomore release is Pet Grief’s biggest strength and it’s what makes it such a great listen from beginning to end in one sitting. Just as critical to the overall sound as the early tracks are the ones that bring up the rear of the record, including “Tell”.

That dream pop essence is captured so poignantly in those high synthesizer single notes that seem to soar wistfully and tragically at the same time. As with many of the other tracks on Pet Grief, the synthesizers are king here and the guitar plays a secondary role, complementing the atmosphere and textures defined on the keys. The “Tell” is perfect for slow, lazy afternoons. Perfect for rainy days. Just perfect, in general.

“Will you keep this up, As long as you can if I don't make it stop?”