Driving is tedium. Red light, green light, stop and go, moving like molasses down roads that, just a few years back, featured little traffic. Some days, while on the go, I listen to forthcoming releases, but that’s dependent on the file formats provided by publicists and whether all the pertinent metadata is present; other days, I blast into the past via old favorites or SiriusXM—the ’70s, ‘60s and old-school soul channels more often than not, these days, but occasionally the Springsteen, Beatles and Elvis ones, too, with occasional jaunts to Willie’s Roadhouse and Outlaw Country. Yesterday being Friday, however, meant Apple Music’s weekly New Music Mix was available; for those unfamiliar with it, it’s an algorithm-driven playlist of 25 songs that uses past plays to predict potential new likes.
My history with Apple Music dates to January 2016, with it providing much of my on-the-go listening while, at home, it’s been part of a mix that includes the free version of the Vox app, which I use for purchased or provided music files, as well as CDs and the oldest of old-school solutions, vinyl. Much of my listening time is spent outside of the Apple Music ecosystem, in other words; it’s why I suspect that the New Music Mix is typically more miss than hit for me—I’m lucky if four songs stick. I tend to skip a lot, as a result, usually running through the playlist in less than 25 minutes.
As Diane as my witness, I’m merciless.
A few years ago, while introducing her to the lilting sounds of Lillian Leadbetter’s State of Romance, Diane observed that my tastes have become more arty through the decades. That’s true. I don’t want the same-old, same-old. I thirst sounds such as Jalen Ngonda’s “Just as Long as We’re Together,” the first song out of the New Music Mix’s gate. It’s deemed retro by some, neo by others, and either/or is fine by me. It sounds fresh yet possesses an old soul. Lady Wray, who first unleashed her silky talents on Missy Elliott’s Supa Dupa Fly in 1998 maintains the vibe with “Best for Us,” a song that conjures Sylvia in style (though not substance), while Icelandic singer-songwriter Arny Margret’s folky “Took the Train ‘til the End” somehow sounds both wistful and blissful. All three were songs I wanted to hear again, and that reaction continued with the fourth, Violette Rain’s “Starshine.” It radiates a subtle heat amidst her gorgeous vocals, which seemingly ride the sun’s rays up and down from the sky.
JM Stevens’ “Pales in Comparison,” from his stellar Wishes on a River Bridge album, is a folk-flavored delight that, to my ears, conjures Neil Young circa Harvest Moon. (The inclusion of tracks that Apple Music knows I’ve heard annoys me to an extent, but when it’s a song as strong as Stevens’, all is forgiven.) The playlist paired it with “True Believer” from Jason Isbell’s much-acclaimed recent solo acoustic album, Foxes in the Snow; it’s a savage riposte aimed at an ex that doesn’t hit home for me, though I’m sure it will with others. The latest salvo from Brown Horse, “Dog Rose,” is fuzzed-up country-rock at its best, confirming my months-old decision to pre-order their forthcoming album on Bandcamp.
Of late, as indicated by my reviews, I’ve been living up to Diane’s observation and indulging in more avant-garde sounds. One result is that the ambient jazz instrumental “Arpy” from Gregory Uhlmann, Josh Johnson and Sam Wilkes—a weird segue from Brown Horse, perhaps, but one that worked well in the car and now, here at my desk. Soothing and soulful, it reminds me in spots of one of my favorite Van Morrison albums, Inarticulate Speech of the Heart. The track that follows, the 11-minute track “Understated” from you, infinite (aka This Will Destroy You’s Jeremy Galindo and Raymond Brown) takes me back to the mid-1980s, when friends and I enhanced our late nights with albums by Tangerine Dream, Jean-Michel Jarre and Michael OIdfield. (Yes, I ran with an eclectic crowd.)
Basia Bulet’s “The Moon,” up next, positively shimmers. She’s a folk-flavored singer-songwriter from Canada who plays the autoharp; she’s been releasing EPs and albums since 2005, but is new to me. The song and others that I’ve since sampled remind me somewhat of Rumer circa Seasons of My Soul. Gems, all. Pocket Money’s “Dunno,” for its part, conjures the shimmering power pop that attracted many ears in the late 1990s; they’re a young New Zealand band I plan to check out in the days ahead.
Twelve songs in comes the first skip: “I.Y.W.M.” by Boutique Feelings, which is classified as “alternative hip-hop”; let’s just say it’s not my taste and move on to Flora From Kansas, whose “Wait for You” is a minor-key delight. I’m not sure I’d revisit it, but it kept me from clicking “next.” The same is true of the next indie-pop song on the docket, “Diagnosis” from Perth-based duo Scratching. (My hunch is both will appeal to those 40 or so years younger than me.) Wooze’s “Hot City Cool Night,” on the other hand, is a throwback to the 1980s with ample amounts of the New Radicals thrown in for good measure.
Alexander Biggs’ “all the bruises” is a folky tune that beget a second listen from me last night, as did Ebba Asman’s soulful “Did I Go?” She’s a Swedish jazz trombonist with a delectable voice. Lucette’s smoky “Too Soon for Sorry,” which follows, is more mainstream but no less mesmerizing, equal parts dream pop and alt.rock. The Velveteers’ “Fix Me” continues with the cool-girl vibe, while Zack Klein’s cinematic “Battery Lane” is a sepia-toned dose of retro pop-rock. Cryogeyser’s “Mountain,” which features Wednesday, is another throwback to sounds long ago; I doubt I’ll follow up with it, however. Sharon Van Etten’s “Indio,” on the other hand, is a tasty treat that’s already accrued a few plays from me via her recent album; it reminds me of the dream-inducing tunes that topped the modern rock charts in the 1990s—a good thing!
Yesterday, John Glacier’s “Don’t Cover Me” proved to be the second skip of the playlist. I just listened to it in full and, really, don’t understand how or why Apple Music would assume it fits my tastes. Like Pocket Money, Nik Brinkman hails from New Zealand; his “Where Are You Now?” is reminiscent of Oasis in spots, which means I’ll soon be checking out its album home, World Within. The playlist closes with Hamilton Leithauser’s “Burn the Boats,” which channels the Talking Heads he’s turned my ears before, though not enough for me to fully investigate his music. This song, though it held my attention, doesn’t change that.
So there you have it: a 25 song-strong playlist that only featured two skips, a few not-for-me moments plus a handful of tracks that led me to add their album-homes to my library for further investigation.
To experience the playlist for yourself, click here. (The images below are just that, images.)
The Old Grey Cat 
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