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Some artists just keep coming back around with intriguing new work that continues to develop their oeuvre. Today’s artists couldn’t be farther apart stylistically but man do they reliably deliver their goods.
Don’t tell my husband but I think I’m in a relationship with Tamar Berk. Maybe we’re just gal pals. Thing is, five albums in and Tamar is still sidling up to me, whispering secrets, sharing the darkest parts of her emotional universe. Always against a musical backdrop that makes everything feel like I’m caught in an 1980s John Hughes movie. Not that I’m looking to get out – I am loving it here. As Berk says in her presser, ocd is a ‘fuzzed-out, reverb-heavy swirl’ all about ‘anxiety, obsessions, fears, memories, dreams’ that falls ‘somewhere between indie pop-rock and a fever dream.’ Dream on Tamar, I say. Opening cut “stay close by” sets the scene with its buzzy drone, overlaid with Berk’s ethereal vocal. Title track “ocd” lightens the tone sonically, letting a variety of keyboards lull the mood before launching a striking chorus. Then comes the first of the many should-be hit singles from the album, “you ruined this city for me.” This is the kind of song Berk excels at, a flowing rush of melody that gathers you up in its release of energy. Another hit-maker is “there are benefits to mixed emotions” with its hypnotic spooky vibe. “i had a dream i was lost in an auditorium” also sounds like chart material to me with its reworked girl group feel. This one’s an auditorium sing-along number, for sure. Of course, “indiesleaze 2005” sounds like radio pleaser too. It can’t be a Tamar Berk album without a few gut-wrenching ballads and ocd doesn’t disappoint. “any given weeknight” and “my turn will come” fit the bill, the latter offering up an REM “Night Swimming” emotional gut punch. Personal fave? “i’m in the day after” is so 1980s-pop gorgeous with its killer, larger-than-life synth shots. I’ve spent years comparing Berk to the likes of Debbie Harry, Aimee Mann or Suzanne Vega but on ocd Berk drills down into her own unique sound. It’s also probably the most consistent sounding record she’s made, capturing a specific vibe that resonates out of all the songs despite their differences. ocd is definitely another winner for Berk. But don’t tell my husband.
Another Eytan Mirsky album, another chance to track his every false move emotionally. He’s a guy seemingly always falling in love but somehow mostly falling flat. The confessions here are typically draped in self-deprecation but a few exhibit a strikingly tender sincerity. Stylistically All Over the Map definitely is. This record’s got soul and country, plenty of horns and cool organ runs, and oh so much heart. Things kick off with “Did What I Came to Do” with its low-key Motown vibe. I can practically see those Solid Gold dancers swaying throughout. Then come some signature Mirsky tougue-in-cheek self-critique tunes. “Apologize in Advance” puts some rockabilly guitar up front on a track that would not be out of place on a Buck Owens or Nick Lowe LP. “Inside Job” combines a Springsteen-worthy horn/organ section with a song seemingly haunted by Graham Parker. But then things get serious on “Almost Didn’t Cry,” a real straight-up country tear-jerker. The LP features a few out-of-the-ordinary efforts like “If I Could Only Draw” and “My Little Tricycle.” “Fooling Exactly Nobody” dials in a bit of New Jersey soul vamp while “If You’re So Smart” offers up a country romp critique. “Two Piece Puzzle” has the drama and cleverisms I’d associate with Elvis Costello. I was totally disarmed by the sweet accordion colouring the Nick Lowe-ish “The Satisfaction.” The album also has a should-be hit single in the stylistic outlier “Lost You in the Jet Stream,” a track that is more straight-up poprock than anything else here, definitely the AM radio ready single with some killer organ work. The album closes with “Give Me a Sign,” a moving paean to loss, where the organ and horn adornment add something special. Trust me, you’re definitely gonna want to follow Eytan All Over the Map with this release.
Who says emotional problems can’t be entertaining? Not these artists. Say hello to Tamar Berk and Eytan Mirsky at their hotlinked internet locales to keep this conversation going.
Photo ‘Found Kodachome slide’ courtesy Thomas Hawk Flikr collection.
Sometimes smart guys skip grad school and make records instead. It seldom leads to tenure, of any kind, but can you put a price on piece of mind? Well, if they’d become academics you probably could – but that misses the point. Which is that I selfishly appreciate that these bright tuneful dudes forwent cushy jobs to provide me with all this great music. Thanks guys! Seriously though, when you combine smart, multi-layered lyrics with catchy hooks, you’ve got something pretty special. Our quartet of smart guy poprockers do that and more!
Warning: there’s some serious Canadian content in this post. Though not too serious, if Hamilton’s B.A. Johnston is anything to go by. With album titles like Stairway to Hamilton, Shit Sucks, and The Skid is Hot Tonight you can pretty much see where this is going. Punville. Even Johnston’s name is a joke – derived from a teen nickname where Christian Johnston became ‘Bored Again’ Christian, or B.A. for short. Johnston’s work is so Canadian working class but his protagonists are not Springteen-esque heroes, they’re just ordinary folks. And despite the humour, Johnston shows a twisted kind of respect for this subjects. Stylistically, the music exudes Canadian icon Stompin’ Tom on acid, with some Jonathan Richman earnest sincerity, and a bit of Ben Vaughn goof. Here I’m just going to focus on his poppier numbers. Like “I Miss that 90’s Hash” or “I Need Donair Sauce” – both tunes have subtle hooks and a bit more polish that Johnston’s usual fare. “Orangeville” channels a lumpen Johnny Cash while “Straight Outta Cobden” is B.A.-typical low-key, with hooky backup vocals in the chorus. “I Love It When You Dress Up” has a sweet ambling country tempo and a refreshing lack of humour. “Fort McMurray” captures the narrowed class horizons for most working people. “Couch Potato” is like B.A.’s philosophy crammed into 90 seconds. With 13 albums since 2000, there’s a lot more B.A. to discover and he’s worth the slide by.
Hapless is the word to describe Eytan Mirsky’s public musical persona. But awkward and desperate would run a close second and third. Yet far from being a downer, Mirsky constantly lightens the mood with a dry wit and dark cynicism worthy of Nick Lowe or Elvis Costello. Over the course of seven albums his rock and roll has been consistently tuneful, full of sly hooks and loads of clever verbal innuendo. The basic raw material is all there in the 1996 debut album title, Songs About Girls (and Other Painful Subjects), particularly on cuts like “Smart Enough” and “Beautiful Inside.” Or check out the Joe Jackson-esque swing of “What Do I Do?” and “Either Way” from 1999’s Get Ready for Eytan! Then there’s his 2001 masterpiece, the hilarious Was It Something I Said?, an album of wall to wall killer cuts. I’ll just draw your attention to “Can I Get Any Lower?” and the very hooky “Sluts.” But hey, drop the needle anywhere on this record and you come up with something great. I could keep going like this through every album. Instead I just want to highlight Mirsky’s great use of pop culture references and humour on tracks like “Watching Dawson’s Creek” (from 2016’s Funny Money), “Share If You Agree” and “Lingerie Pillow Fight” (both from the fantastic new 2019 LP If Not Now … Later.” Honourable mention: don’t miss the Paul Collins-esque “She’s Looking Better” from 2004’s Everyone’s Having Fun Tonight! Mirsky also does a lot of Facebook 
I got to check out Blair Packham when he opened for the Northern Pikes recently in Toronto. Who’s Blair Packham? I didn’t know. But after loving his clever, hilarious and hooky blue-eyed soul performance I went looking. Turns out he had a some Canadian hit singles (like “Last of the Red Hot Fools”) with his 1980s band, The Jitters. Since their breakup in 1991, he’s released only three solo albums. But what great LPs they are! Packham offers up hooky poprock numbers with intelligent wordplay and heartfelt ballads, delivered by a pop-soul voice that falls somewhere into the sweet spot between Huey Lewis and Paul Carrack. Cases in point “Weird to You” and the title track from 2000’s Everything That’s Good. If the band sound familiar on Packham’s 2004 release, Could’ve Been King, they should – it’s Canada woefully underappreciated poprock geniuses The Odds. They provide some topnotch playing for Packham’s killer tunes like “Come Undone,” Somebody Else” and the touching “Little Fish.” I love the lyrics on “Could’ve Been King” – ‘didn’t like the hours, the wretched excess, the abuse of power …’ But Packham really hits it out of the park with “One Hit Wonder,” which is simultaneously one of the most honest renderings of the liabilities of being a one-hit-wonder while still incredibly respectful to the artist that has it. And the song has an infectious handclapping, singalong chorus! The record ends with “Last,” a song that’s all about, well, being last. Thirteen years later Packham returned with 2017’s Unpopular Pop and it was worth the wait for the hooky, single-ish “You (Yeah, You)” and the Costello-vibing “Other Side.”
What a wonderfully twisted world is the land of Jim’s Big Ego! It’s a place where anything can be the subject of intelligent satire, from mixed tapes to loving zombies to math prof rock stars to impoverished gun owners. But unlike some sardonic songsters, Jim’s got a clear political position very much on the progressive side of things. It’s there clear and without irony on the wonderful “International” from 2008’s Free*. And that’s just another thing to like about JBE. Amidst all the fun and cleverness, there’s a point to the poking. I came to the band via their quasi-hit single, “The Ballad of Barry Allen,” a slick piece of melodic goodness from their 2003 release They’re Everywhere. I expected to find more but instead I found a guy (Jim Infantino) with a great range in songwriting and performance, sometimes bringing to mind a more poprock Robbie Fulks, or Kevin Devine vocally on occasion, or Peter Case in stretching from new wave to country to folky material. You can dig in anywhere and find something to enjoy, like “Concrete” from 1999’s Noplace Like Nowhere. Or you can check out his last LP, 2012’s Stay, a smart, funny commentary on cults, religion, zombie love, and money in politics (my faves here? The hooky “Chills” and “Earworm”). The catalogue must-listen is “Award Show” (on Free*) a spot on dismantling of the internalized self-hatred and self-indulgence of the genre. Sadly, there’s been no new JBE product for over a half decade. Let this entry act as a placard-waving demand for more JBE. JBE! JBE! Now, cue the water cannon …
Putting a famous name in your song title would seem to be a sure fire way to have a hit. Kim Carnes’ “Bette Davis Eyes” or Weezer’s “Buddy Holly” readily come to mind. But really, those are the exceptions. A quick search of the internet actually turns up a whole bevy of celebrity names on songs, mostly on the indie side of things, most of them album cuts. So why do bands do it? Homage? Satire? Or are they just as celebrity obsessed as everyone else? The French duo Please was formed and recorded a song with the sole explicit intent of getting a response from Paul McCartney – not that Paul appeared to notice! The range of material covered in this post gives us a bit of all these approaches, from hero worship, to ridicule, to little more than just mentioning the celebrity name.
What is it with guys and record collections? While I think things have changed a bit recently, coming of age in the 1980s the record store and music obsessions were predominantly male preserves. Nobody captured it better than Nick Hornby in the first chapter of High Fidelity, which opens with the male protagonist deciding for the umpteenth time to reorganize his record collection, this time in the order he purchased them. I remember looking up from the book thinking ‘somebody’s been watching me …’
So here are two songs that capture the traditional range of views about women and record collections. In one, the singer is delighted to find a girl with a serious record collection, noting she “blew me away, with her 45s, they’re all alphabetized …” But in the other, the narrator “did a quick inspection and found [her] ELO” and dumps her, directing her to “take your record collection and go.” In either case, the serious female record collector is either a surprise or unthinkable. Yet both songwriters are clearly mocking this sort of narrow thinking. 
Eytan Mirsky has a large body of hilarious, self-mocking poprock. One album features a pathetic looking Mirsky slouching in a chair as some girlfriend’s luggage is heading for the door – the album title? Was it Something I Said? On his song “Record Collection” (from Get Ready for Eytan!) the shallowness of his male narrator deciding to dump the girl he’s moved in with over some supposed musical indiscretions is both mocked and yet somehow also sadly believable. Meanwhile, producer extraordinaire Fernando Perdomo offers up two distinctly different versions of his charming “Girl with a Record Collection,” one leaning on a jangle poprock sound while the other exploits a more poppy arrangement.
Poprock Record 