SOMETHING OLD

Nancy Wilson + Cannonball Adderley - Never Will I Marry

1962

Anthony Perkins played the lead role of Gideon Briggs in Frank Loesser's 1960 musical Greenwillows. Perkins brought Never Will I Marry to the stage in a dramatic ballad, a mournful relinquishment of any hope that Briggs will be able to commit to the love he craves due to a family "curse" of wanderlust.
Shortly after, jazz singer Nancy Wilson and saxophonist Cannonball Adderley took the tune in a new direction, one I personally find worlds more compelling. Aside from the smooth and dynamic voice of Wilson, Adderley's rich sax tone, and that overall magnetic jazz swing, it's the newly female narrator that puts a bold twist on it. In the early 60s, a man who chose to be a bachelor in favor of wandering is not regarded nearly the same way as a woman declaring independence. 
This song struck me after reading Thomas Hardy's Jude The Obscure, a new favorite novel of mine. There is a quote from the book that reads, "people go on marrying because they can't resist natural forces, although many of them may know perfectly well that they are possibly buying a month's pleasure with a life's discomfort." Its tragically-fated protagonists Jude Fawley and Sue Bridehead are cousins belonging to a fairly similar family curse as the one of Briggs in Greenwillows. They have both been told by their elders throughout their life to never marry, because the marriages notoriously end poorly. So, with that in mind and other emotions concerning progressive passion, they pursue their love and begin a family without marrying. That decision scandalized 1890s readers to the point of allegedly ending Hardy's career entirely. 
SOMETHING NEW

The Lemon Twigs - Fire and Gold

May 8th, 2026
The Lemon Twigs have been called a Long Island band since their first album ten years ago when they were teenagers. I often see them still regarded as such, though I'm quite sure they have relocated to the city and we need to accept that this island is not cool.
Anyway, I have been a fan for most of those ten years, and am pleased to present Look For Your Mind!, their latest project. The two D'Addario brothers swap lead vocals on every other song, how diplomatic! Here's a standout track from Brian on side one: Fire and Gold. It opens with bright, open chords as we progress into a 60s inspired pop serenade. It's a song about never being too far from the one you love, even if everything else shifts in and out of certainty and positivity, as they so often do. The title comparison of "ire and gold" is later mimicked with "blue and grey" and "paradise and pain," the latter of which is followed by what will die will be born again.

Then toward the end, it employs flanger, which is when an effects pedal splits an audio signal in two and creates delays and modulation to get a sort of space-like, psychedelic sound. I think they used it just the right amount for it to add to the song's dreaminess without being excessive, though I did discover in my adolescence how much I love it in large quantities through songs like
Open My Eyes by Nazz and Al Kooper & Stephen Stills' version of You Don't Love Me.
This record and their last have caught some accusations of pastiche, but I continue to believe that these guys are as musically innovative as they are deeply inspired by a period of music that moves me just as powerfully.
SOMETHING BORROWED

Françoise Hardy - La Rue des cœurs perdus (Ricky Nelson)
1968
Ricky Nelson's soft face, bright blue eyes, and an ozone-depleting pompadour hairstyle fit right into the late 50s rock and roll look, shared by Elvis and Bobby Vee. They were rocking and a-rolling and guaranteed to have a hair comb to prove it. My love for rock music is indebted to this era but it is, frankly, not my favorite.
The third track on Nelson's 1959 Ricky Sings Again album is Believe What You Say, an almost ridiculously stereotypical song of the era. It's moved by a fast-paced shuffle and lyrics all about "going steady" and making sure his "pretty baby" knows that they're gonna "rock till [they] can't rock no more."

Alright. Yep, it's definitely 1959 on my record player. But then, the needle moves onto the next song. It's Lonesome Town, a haunting, stripped down ballad that evokes imagery of a broken down cowboy at a bar in a dusty ghost town. It's a pretty huge shift, and one I think Nelson's voice was built adeptly for.
Nearly a decade later, my beloved chanteuse Françoise Hardy covered it in French. It's less haunting, replacing deep-voiced backing harmonies and acoustic guitar with blooming strings and piano, but still stunningly beautiful. 
SOMETHING... BEATIFIC

Elvis Costello & The Attractions - The Beat

1978
Eighteen years ago, a user on songmeanings.com, matter-of-factly commented "this song is definitely about a clergyman sexually abusing a child" regarding this song. That doesn't make me feel great about dancing to it 20x a day for the past week and half. It's not my fault that Elvis Costello is as extraordinarily good at tackling societal issues as he is making electrifying music. The fact that other users suggest the lyrics may actually be more in line with nazism or masturbation makes me think I should take this time to deeply analyze the lyrics. But I'm not going to. 
I titled today's category as beatific as a play on the title, but also because it arouses immense beatitude within me. It enters my ears like a euphoric drug, bringing a lethargic energy level to bouncing off the walls and lifting a neutral mood to exalted joy. I have, unsurprisingly, decided it is my absolute favorite of all of Costello's impressive creative output.
The energy is immediately up as it begins with electric guitar and bass, snare-heavy drums, and sort of baseball game organ-esque keys. Costello is remarkable at creating truly interesting melodies and singing his equally interesting lyrics in unique way with the melody — almost against it. Around 1:12, each line in the verse ends in a rapid succession of three syllables (you do to me / the enemy / befriending me). Listen closely to the keys at this point, because they're playing in a similar way to the vocal delivery, but slightly different, to the point that you think they might clash with Costello, but they never do. I wish I could hum it to explain rather than write, but hopefully you hear what I mean. 
There are a lot of moments like this, where Costello finds any way he can to manipulate his lyrical delivery to fit into the rhythm in an original and unexpected way. I also just find the way he manipulates his voice in general to be profoundly satisfying. The bridge, beginning at 2:23, is my favorite part of the song. I'm just going to list every detail I love about this section:
~2:40 - The way he very quickly sings "thinkin' about your..."
~2:42 - The lyric I don't wanna be your lover / I just wanna be your victim (which may very well support the sexual abuse theory, but it reminds me of Bob Dylan's I wanna be your lover, baby, I don't wanna be your boss).
~2:49 - The tiny squeak his voice makes before he says "I just wanna be your victim"
~2:57 - The way he delivers the lyric "at all"
~3:05 - The powerful dragging out of "a call"

Having a favorite section of a song when you're already clinically insane about every second of it is kind of worthy of institutionalization, but c'est la vie. 
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