Sometimes my mood swings across a pretty wide of arc of the poprock-o-sphere, from harshly loud to hush-like precious. Today our mood swinging extends to folk pop, sunshine psychedelia, guitar distortion, and emo drone. Let’s get moody.

The cover of Cloud Souvenirs has Chris Staples walking somewhere. Behind him a neat boxy house on stilts holds up a pale blue sky. My gut sense says it’s morning and he’s just a guy out with his thoughts, humming a tune. Listening to Cloud Souvenirs is like deciding to join that stroll, with light and breeze reflected in the textured variety of inventive, hypnotic sounds. Just listen to how the quiet vocals and acoustic guitar work of opening cut “Nasty Habit” draws you in to something very intimate, only to slowly open things up with electric piano and guitar and synth motifs that add space and a different resonance. In a way, every song on the record sort of does the same thing, balancing simplicity with complexity like a folk pop Steely Dan. In “Take Your Time” Staples embeds one of his classic killer guitar licks but envelops it in a meditative yet hooky tune. For a straight-up folkie elan “Souvenirs” delivers gut-wrenching small-town melancholia while, alternatively, “Do Whatever I Want” quickens the record’s pulse with its buoyant 1960s English pop sheen. “Burnout Together” is a standout track here, a gorgeous tune rich in nuance yet seemingly masquerading as something simple. Or I could single out “Dreams Come True” with its New Orleans horn section and a stripped-down piano melody framing a simple message. Then again, album closer “I Want to Get Lost” has the dissonant ennui of David Sylvian in Brilliant Trees mode, and so few people can pull that off. Staples has been honing his textured folk pop sound for some time now, over five previous solo releases. But with Cloud Souvenirs he may just have perfected it.

On Life and Life Only Brighton UK’s The Heavy Heavy offer up the unlikely marriage of sixties psychedelia and sunshine pop. One minute it’s all bluesy electric guitar and Hammond B3 organ, the next we’re awash in tight Mamas and Papas vocal harmonies. And that’s all just in the opening track “All My Dreams.” From there the bluesy shade of this record is notable, leaning in a pop gospel direction on “Go Down River” or with a more boogie riff driving “Man of the Hills.” “Miles and Miles” is the LPs clear should-be hit single, flashing a blast of hooky lead guitar like an aural tractor beam, reeling you in. The juxtaposed variety of songs here is striking. There’s the beautifully slow hippy groove that defines “Sleeping on Grassy Ground” contrasting the very Mamas and Papas sunshine pop glow of “Why Don’t You Call?” All this was a pretty impressive collection when it came out as an six-song EP in 2022 but now it’s been expanded to a full LP with five more tunes. And the extras are no mere rough demos or cast-off b-sides. The covers – of Father John Misty’s “Real Love Baby” and Jonathan Wilson’s “Desert Raven – are inspired re-workings. Though the show-stopper addition is the breathtaking reimagining of David Crosby’s psych-folk masterpiece “Guinnevere.” The album denouement is pretty good too, an acoustic rendition of “Go Down River” that infuses the track with a very different spirit.

This summer I’ve found myself returning to Grant Lindberg’s recent Future Ghost LP again and again. There’s something comforting about the wall-of-hazy, distorted guitars and vocals that swathe just about everything here. Opening tracks “All the Time” and “My Dear” hit the Matthew Sweet and Weezer marks pretty hard but over the record as a whole I can hear a kinship with loads of more contemporary acts. Bands like Ruler, Invisible Rays, Taking Meds, and Jet Black Tulips are all over Lindberg’s kind of chunky, droney rhythm guitar work and dissonant vocals. In terms of listenability, Future Ghost is a total play kind of record, there’s no filler here. But if I were to single out a few tunes I’d vote “Anything But You” as the should-be hit with the Sugar Ray-ish “Every Now and Then” a close second. There are a few surprises too, like the subtle McCartney-isms animating “Lost On You.” And Lindberg closes the record with the killer Matthew Sweet-meets-Mike Viola drenched “There Isn’t Time.” Trust me on this one, if you spend time with Future Ghost it will come back to haunt you (but in a good way).

Washington D.C. band Cal Rifkin fall somewhere on the emo spectrum of power pop. They cite all the usual suspects as influences – Matthew Sweet, Teenage Fanclub, Sloan – but their own sound is somehow both dialled down and dialled up. In the end, the combination of cranked guitars and low-key vocals coats their new EP Better Luck Next Year with an alluring vibe. “Down South” kicks things off with big chords and breathy vocals, only to add an extra guitar riff 25 seconds in that is positively addictive. Then comes “Break My Heart,” the obvious hit single. When the chorus hits, the hook is drop dead good. “I Know I Can’t Stay” has a Fountains of Wayne kind of suburban loner intimacy. Title track “Better Luck Next Year” changes things up with a groove that grabs you and won’t let go. It’s sorta western, sorta not. The final cut “Skater Vidz” is just a lovely lilting tune in a Real Estate/Teenage Fanclub register. You can just add Better Luck Next Year to your summer playlist, it’s a faultless EP. And while you wait for a debut long-player from the band you can always double back and check out their previous self-titled extended play.

I hope you’ve found a mood here you can dig or maybe even a few different moods. Click on the hyperlinked names if you’d like to swing a bit more.

Top photo courtesy JD Hancock Flikr collection.