A funny thing happened on my way to answer an email last night: Yahoo! informed me that it’s implementing a new storage limit on free accounts and that mine—which I’ve used since February 1997—was at or near the 20GB cutoff. Incoming messages would bounce back unless I deleted a ton of stuff or, if not, paid for additional space. I’m nickel-and-dimed enough as it is, thanks, so for the next hour-plus I sorted through the more than 150,000+ unopened emails cluttering my inbox, deleting and deleting and deleting until, after emptying the trash, I discovered I’d excised every single email, both opened and unopened, from 2025. Doh!
Along the way, I clicked play on Can We Go Back, the debut EP from the Swedish group Pink Butter, which consists of guitarist Oskar Bettinsoli, keyboardist Björn Lehnert, bassist Malte Bergman, and drummer John Bjurström. The press release explains their process: “We made our songs by simply playing together live in the studio, giving as much of ourselves as possible to the music. In an age where digital perfection is easy to achieve, we chose to embrace the human side of music. It’s about capturing the raw energy of the moment—just like the jazz records we love—but infused with the modern collaboration and vibe of today’s hip-hop and soul. It’s a balance between the timelessness of improvisation and the innovation of contemporary music.”
Joining them are Jermaine Holmes, who’s played with D’Angelo’s live band; rapper T3 (from Slum Village); singer Joanné Nugas, who’s recently been cast in the lead role of the Max Martin musical “& Julia”; alternative R&B artist Venus Anon; and soul singer-songwriter Elma. They each wrote the lyrics for their respective songs, so it’s a true collaborative endeavor.
In short, the EP is slinky soul at its finest, reminding me a bit of the Stone Foundation’s work with guest artists. As evidenced by “Alright,” however, Pink Butter’s is a smoother R&B variant, with Nugas’ captivating vocal gliding atop the melody as if a thin cirrus cloud one moment and puffy cumulus cloud the next. Just mesmerizing. The same is true of the lead-off track, which features Holmes, and “U,” which finds Holmes paired with Anon. The closing “Lost My Mind,” which features Elma up front, is a hypnotic free fall into the darkness: “This world has worn me out/I think I lost my mind.” Who hasn’t felt that way at some point this year? I certainly did last night.
The Old Grey Cat 