“When I was young I’d listen to the radio, waiting for my favorite songs. When they played, I’d sing along. It made me smile…”
Forgive me—I’m waxing nostalgic today thanks to the 15-track delight that is Harriet’s Trying to Get the Feeling Again. If you’re unfamiliar with the one-name chanteuse, here’s a summary: She’s a British singer-songwriter whose velvet-plush hues conjure Karen Carpenter’s while her songs—covers and originals—channel the adult contemporary sound of everyone’s favorite decade, the 1970s. I stumbled upon her on Christmas Day of 2016—as wonderful a present as YouTube’s algorithm has ever given me. Fans of Rumer and Tori Holub will find much here to like and love.
Listening to her new album yesterday morn left me awash in what the Portuguese call “saudade”—a bittersweet yearning for days that will never be again and the people who populated them. The music pulled me to early Saturday evenings in the late 1970s, when the family often read through the Sunday newspaper in the living room while my dad’s radio—usually tuned to talk radio—played the hot hits of yesteryear (aka the oldies) to when, at the behest of friends, I first turned the radio dial to a Top 40 station.
Almost every song I heard made me smile.
Many of those songs still do—even ones that, by my mid-teens, I dismissed for failing the arbitrary “cool” test that my pals and I applied to most things. It wasn’t until my 40s, in fact, that I re-connected with my “uncool” side and picked up CDs by Olivia Newton-John, Donna Summer, the Bee Gees and even the Carpenters, not to mention a disco-flavored box set. It wasn’t just for the music, but the memories they evoked.
Trying to Get the Feeling Again is a thoroughly enjoyable outing that, for those of a certain vintage, is guaranteed to spark wistful longings for days long past. It’s sweet melancholy set to song. The classic Carpenters hit “Yesterday Once More,” which was kept from the top of the singles chart by Jim Croce’s “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown,” opens the sentimental journey, which includes affecting renditions of England Dan & John Ford Coley’s “I’d Really Love to See You Tonight, Bread’s “Make It With You,” and the Bee Gees’ “How Deep Is Your Love,” among other tracks. It’s akin to tuning in Philly’s go-to “adult contemporary” radio station in the late 1970s, WMGK-FM, for an hour.
What elevates the set far above nostalgic karaoke, however, is Harriet’s delivery. She doesn’t just sing the songs. She inhabits them. To that end, her two originals, “Mountain” and “Silent Disco,” flow from the speakers as if long-forgotten gems from the ‘70s. The former, which she wrote with John Bettis and Steve Anderson, speaks to following one’s dreams. “Silent Disco,” written with Anders Hansson, champions walking to the beat of one’s own drummer: “Think of all the time I’ve spent/Just trying to fit in/Not cool enough/Not bold enough to win.”
One of the odd things about growing older is witnessing latchkeys from my youth make unexpected comebacks. I’m thinking of vinyl and cassettes, primarily. There was a time, in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, when many of us sold off our collections and replaced them with shiny compact discs. CDs eventually gave way to downloads, of course, and then streaming—and then, out of the blue, vinyl and the cassettes re-entered the scene, with younger generations championing the tactile sensations they provide. Harriet’s embrace of the Great 1970s Songbook is the audio equivalent of that.
In short, Trying to Get the Feeling Again is a collection that’s sure to resonate with old fogies such as myself while also serving as an excellent introduction for younger generations to the many heartfelt treasures of their forebears.
(It can be purchased—on CD, not vinyl—via her website.)
The track list:
The Old Grey Cat 