Today is one of those Random Weekend days that aligns with a special occasion, giving me the opportunity to spin the dial and hope for an appropriate or hilariously inappropriate match of song and event.
In this case, today marks two such special occasions. One is Fathers Day, and the other is the 19th birthday of my older daughter, Sophia.
The 2011 album Josh Rouse and the Long Vacations somehow slipped entirely past my radar. Not to the point that I don’t own it (obviously I do, because it showed up on a Random iTunes Weekend) but, given that Rouse is one of my favorite artists, it’s bizarre that it’s completely new to me.
This album came out during Rouse’s Mediterranean phase, when he was living in Spain and dabbling in world music. His previous album, 2010’s El Turista, consisted almost entirely of songs sung in Spanish. So maybe I mistakenly thought this one was more of the same.
The four-year wait for new music from Lorde is finally over with the release of a new single, the title song from upcoming album Solar Power.
Lorde’s sophomore effort, 2017’s Melodrama, was an art-pop masterpiece, angsty and dramatic in all the best ways.
That album paved the way for Billie Eilish, whose extraordinary success has sucked up a lot of the musical air previously breathed by Lorde. You also hear echoes of it in some of Olivia Rodrigo’s songs. The emergence of those two stars since Lorde last recorded means she is now the third most popular Gen Z pop star.
I was a big Eminem fan through his first three albums. The Slim Shady LP, The Marshall Mathers LP and The Eminem Show are all classic examples of his writing and rapping skills forming a perfect marriage with his subject matter.
That subject matter weaved between his personal demons and the societal impact of his work, and he had provocative things to say about both.
Liz Phair is an artist I had no expectation of hearing from in 2021. It’s been 11 years since her last release, the half-assed, grab-bag double album Funstyle, and 16 years since her last serious release, 2005’s forgotten (and forgettable) Somebody’s Miracle.
Before that came 2003’s Liz Phair, which earned her a minor hit in ‘Why Can’t I?’ but also the derision of fans who accused her of selling out by teaming up with pop hitmakers. When you looked past the glossy production, and the whiplash effect of seeing an indie trailblazer in such a different context, that album wasn’t half-bad.
Meet Me In Montauk 