
Netflix has a great series charting the rise and fall of Medellín drug lord Pablo Escobar: Narcos. While a bit light on the political and economic contexts that gave rise to the drug cartels, the show is sustained by great writing and acting. The music is also spot on. The series’ opening theme, “Tuyo,” written and performed by Rodrigo Amarante, captures a stereotypical latin jazz feel that nonetheless manages to sound fresh and alluring, like a modern João Gilberto. In an interview, Amarante claimed he wanted the song to sound like something Escobar’s mother might listen to. My only complaint is the song’s length – just a minute and 29 seconds in this version.
The search for the Narcos’ theme invariably led to an exploration of Rodrigo Amarante’s other material. Turns out, though “Tuyo” is sung in Spanish, Amarante is from Brazil, and so records in Portuguese for that market. Confusingly, his first band in Brazil actually had a Spanish name: Los Hermanos. Their biggest hit was the 1999 single, “Anna Júlia,” written and sung by the group’s other main songwriter, Marcelo Camelo. The song became so popular it was eventually covered in other languages, including one in English by Jim Capaldi and featuring George Harrison on lead guitar. The Harrison link was not a mistake – the song has a great early 1960s British beat group feel, with killer background vocal ‘whoa, whoa’s. While Capaldi manages a credible cover, the original is better.
Amarante’s career has moved in a number of directions. While Los Hermanos was on tour with the British group, the Strokes, Amarante and the Strokes drummer Fabrizio Moretti decided to form a side-project supergroup with multi-instrumentalist Bikini Shapiro: Little Joy. “Brand New Start” is from their debut album in 2007, a rollicking, pleasant tune, with a host of 1950s and 1960s influences and a great horn section.
Rodrigo Amarante released a solo album, Cavalo, in 2014 that continues to mine a minimalist, hipster, Brazilian jazz/folk vein, with a subtly catchy number, “Tardei.”
There is no particular theme to this post’s trio of songs, though each selection has a distinct sound that sets it apart. Starting with some Canadian content, Ontario native Matthew Barber typically runs the gamut of breathy guitar folk to straight up bar room rock and roll, but on “Blue Forever” it is the hypnotic piano hook that drives the song, later aided by some understated, echo-y electric guitar.
Simple Kid is the moniker for Irish multi-instrumentalist/producer Ciarán McFeely. After making some waves with his punk band, The Young Offenders, McFeely stripped things down to a solo project, initially recorded on a home multi-track cassette recorder. “Staring at the Sun,” from his 2004 album 1, kicks off with a distinctive guitar hook, with the rest of the song channeling a great Beck-like vibe. Sadly, after his equally interesting 2007 album 2, Simple Kid largely disappeared.
New Zealand’s Strange Babes round things out with a blissful, retro-sixties pop gem, “Come Back Around,” featuring chime-y guitars and killer organ fill that follows the chorus. They are not going to win any awards for lip-synching but the video here shows a band that is reverent without being derivative of the poprock psychedelic scene.






I discovered Ike Reilly just this last year, a week after he had appeared at the Drake Hotel in Toronto in support of his latest album Born on Fire. What an opportunity missed! But Reilly is not new on the scene, with recordings as far back as 2001, and performing career stretching back to the late 1980s. Imagine Bruce Springsteen meets hip hop, but by someone who could really pull it off. That guy is Ike Reilly. His material has all the great rock and roll vibes accompanied by an effortless alternating talk/singing style. Like Springsteen, Reilly gives voice to the sense of hopelessness and desolation facing working class communities in the face of catastrophic job losses and a general lack of political leadership. And like Bruce, he manages to capture the vignettes that make a life: the broken promises, the failed adventures, the unfulfilled potential.
From the three albums attributed to just Ike Reilly (there are three more with his backing band The Ike Reilly Assassination) I count at least nine must-listen tracks, though I feature a few less here. From his most recent Born on Fire “Am I Still the One For You” and “Underneath the Moon” are both great songs, but “Two Weeks-a-Work – One Night-a-Love” has a great groove and carries on Reilly’s strong career focus on work and the lack thereof.
2009’s Hard Luck Stories showcases the struggle for meaningful work on a host of songs but “Good Work” nicely captures the dilemma facing today’s youth who, despite partying together, will see some move effortlessly from privilege to opportunity while others struggle for whatever they can get. From the same record, “Girls in the Backroom” has a raucus sing-a-long quality masking some pretty desperate behaviour.
Winding back to 2001 and what can only be considered a minor masterpiece, Reilly’s Salesmen and Racists is a no-holds-barred critique of America’s class society but remains a remarkably tuneful indictment. “My Wasted Friends,” “Duty Free” and “Hip Hop Thighs” have hooks galore and a lot for the thoughtful listener to consider after the melodies fade.



