SOMETHING OLD
Thin Lizzy - Running Back
1976
The Boys Are Back In Town. Sure. Fine, yes. That is a song by Thin Lizzy. A good song, even.
But my hope is always that it's not the song that defines the band. Their very first album from 1971 is full of hidden gems ranging broadly from Irish-themed folk to psychedelic rock, my favorite of which (Ray-Gun & Things Ain't Working Out Down at the Farm) have been played on the Dizzy Express in previous years.
But even on the well-known Jailbreak record which features a popular title track and of course, The Boys..., they were not a one-note generic rock band simply creating lyrical images of guys being dudes and/or breaking out of prison.
Perhaps the most beautiful song on the album is Running Back. It's a vulnerable heartbreak song about not being able to let go after a relationship has ended. That lingering feeling that the break was not final, because if given the chance, he'd run right back to it.
The song is driven by a simple keyboard part that I find infectious, especially accompanied by the clear emotion conveyed through Phil Lynott's voice.
This is only one of several truly melodic, gorgeous, soft-hearted songs the group released, so please do not let me see them in any "hard rock" etc lists that also mention bands like KISS.
Thin Lizzy - Running Back
1976
The Boys Are Back In Town. Sure. Fine, yes. That is a song by Thin Lizzy. A good song, even.
But my hope is always that it's not the song that defines the band. Their very first album from 1971 is full of hidden gems ranging broadly from Irish-themed folk to psychedelic rock, my favorite of which (Ray-Gun & Things Ain't Working Out Down at the Farm) have been played on the Dizzy Express in previous years.
But even on the well-known Jailbreak record which features a popular title track and of course, The Boys..., they were not a one-note generic rock band simply creating lyrical images of guys being dudes and/or breaking out of prison.
Perhaps the most beautiful song on the album is Running Back. It's a vulnerable heartbreak song about not being able to let go after a relationship has ended. That lingering feeling that the break was not final, because if given the chance, he'd run right back to it.
The song is driven by a simple keyboard part that I find infectious, especially accompanied by the clear emotion conveyed through Phil Lynott's voice.
This is only one of several truly melodic, gorgeous, soft-hearted songs the group released, so please do not let me see them in any "hard rock" etc lists that also mention bands like KISS.
SOMETHING NEW
Dry Cleaning - The Cute Things
January 9th, 2026
Dry Cleaning - The Cute Things
January 9th, 2026
Secret Love is the brand new third album from South London band Dry Cleaning. I don't always say where a band or artist is from, but sometimes it's relevant. Here, it is because of vocalist Florence Shaw's crystal clear accent in her primarily spoken-word style throughout the record.
The antepenultimate track, The Cute Things, may verge on "singing" the most on the album as opposed to spoken-word. I really love the melodies that come out of Shaw here, and the bass line also particularly shines. I'm also fond of a sound that I can't identify. Nick Buxton is credited on the track for "programming," electronically creating instrument-like sounds, so that's my best guess. It's a bit reminiscent of a pedal-steel but more vague than that.
The lyrics are elusive and fragmented as ever, but I particularly find these charming:
Sincere things you say make me want to laugh
And not in a good way, but it's ok
I get the impression the song is about loving someone in spite of their flaws, as Shaw appears to be mocking the person in the above lyric and says "you confuse me" in the preceding line. But the outro is presumably calling this person "a total work of art."
It says, to me: You completely and utterly perplex me. But I adore you.
The music video below provides absolutely zero additional context to aid in interpretation, by the way.
The antepenultimate track, The Cute Things, may verge on "singing" the most on the album as opposed to spoken-word. I really love the melodies that come out of Shaw here, and the bass line also particularly shines. I'm also fond of a sound that I can't identify. Nick Buxton is credited on the track for "programming," electronically creating instrument-like sounds, so that's my best guess. It's a bit reminiscent of a pedal-steel but more vague than that.
The lyrics are elusive and fragmented as ever, but I particularly find these charming:
Sincere things you say make me want to laugh
And not in a good way, but it's ok
I get the impression the song is about loving someone in spite of their flaws, as Shaw appears to be mocking the person in the above lyric and says "you confuse me" in the preceding line. But the outro is presumably calling this person "a total work of art."
It says, to me: You completely and utterly perplex me. But I adore you.
The music video below provides absolutely zero additional context to aid in interpretation, by the way.
SOMETHING BORROWED
The Music Machine - Cherry Cherry (Neil Diamond)
1966
Neil Diamond has been on my mind since watching Song Sung Blue, a movie not really about Neil Diamond. This feature is also not really about Neil Diamond. Sorry, Neil.
It's a lot less shocking to discover that Neil Diamond wrote The Monkees' I'm a Believer once you've heard Cherry Cherry. They two feel rhythmically very similar to me.
(Also super similar to The Romantics' What I Like About You, but that's neither here nor there).
Diamond's original Cherry Cherry has got three chords jubilantly strumming, a little keys, a little background singing to accompany Diamond's lead, and clapping.
Now, enter The Music Machine. It's the same year: 1966. The Music Machine have a hit single at this point, Talk Talk, which blends self-deprecating lyrics with a fuzz box and other experimental sounds. They're helping birth the sound of garage rock, and they bring that into Cherry Cherry.
Instead of starting with acoustic guitar, the rendition begins with tropical-sounding flute, complex drum patterns, and layered harmonies among the bandmates. Singer Sean Bonniwell immediately shows his vocal range, bringing a smooth voice to this that is distinctly different from Talk Talk.
The gorgeous singing and delicate flute juxtaposed with the fuzz tones make this exactly what the era of rock was about: experimentation.
The Music Machine - Cherry Cherry (Neil Diamond)
1966
Neil Diamond has been on my mind since watching Song Sung Blue, a movie not really about Neil Diamond. This feature is also not really about Neil Diamond. Sorry, Neil.
It's a lot less shocking to discover that Neil Diamond wrote The Monkees' I'm a Believer once you've heard Cherry Cherry. They two feel rhythmically very similar to me.
(Also super similar to The Romantics' What I Like About You, but that's neither here nor there).
Diamond's original Cherry Cherry has got three chords jubilantly strumming, a little keys, a little background singing to accompany Diamond's lead, and clapping.
Now, enter The Music Machine. It's the same year: 1966. The Music Machine have a hit single at this point, Talk Talk, which blends self-deprecating lyrics with a fuzz box and other experimental sounds. They're helping birth the sound of garage rock, and they bring that into Cherry Cherry.
Instead of starting with acoustic guitar, the rendition begins with tropical-sounding flute, complex drum patterns, and layered harmonies among the bandmates. Singer Sean Bonniwell immediately shows his vocal range, bringing a smooth voice to this that is distinctly different from Talk Talk.
The gorgeous singing and delicate flute juxtaposed with the fuzz tones make this exactly what the era of rock was about: experimentation.
SOMETHING... SCOTTISH
Nicola Benedetti + Brìghde Chaimbeul - Skye Boat Song
2025 (c. 1782)
Nicola Benedetti + Brìghde Chaimbeul - Skye Boat Song
2025 (c. 1782)
Cuachag nan Craobh (Cuckoo of the Tree) is a late 18th-century Gaelic song that was later adapted by Scots into Skye Boat Song. I have heard vocal versions of it before, most notably as the theme song to Outlander. It's a lovely song, but I was never really moved by it until I heard this arrangement.
This recording is so powerful, that it's hard to believe it's only a duet by violinist Nicola Benedetti and piper Brìghde Chaimbeul. The tradition of Scottish smallpipes, which Chaimbeul plays here, began in the 15th-century but declined significantly in usage and nearly became a lost art. They were revived in the 70s-80s by musicians Colin Ross and Hamish Moore, and have been brought to the spotlight in recent avant-garde music by Chaimbeul.
I'm not sure if there's something I can feel about the revival of this very old, nearly forgotten instrument so deep to the heart of Scotland, or if the country's history is embedded in this traditional music, or if Benedetti and Chaimbeul are simply wildly talented. My guess is that it's all three that cause me to feel incredibly moved by this rendition. Two women musically transporting us to their homeland, and letting us go with them. It seems to make the rest of the world go silent.