The Trail Remains Unseen by Paul Thomas Saunders

It's the quiet ones you have to watch. Leeds-born Paul Thomas Saunders starts many of his songs with barely a whisper, a ghostly presence behind bewitching, electronica-filtered instrumentation, but as his songs unravel they pack the kind of emotional heat more celebrated voices have long since exhausted. He seems a suitably shy and retiring character too from what I've read of his interviews. The first track of his immersive EP, Descartes Highlands, The Trail Remains Unseen, is an exquisitely airy paean to youth and snapshots of memory, wrapped in sadness for what has past but intrigued by the possibilities of the future. Five minutes of utter sanctuary with Saunders' warm and aching voice leading you through the trees. There's no need for him to shout. We can do that for him.

The Trail Remains Unseen by Paul Thomas Saunders - listen on Spotify here.

I Belong In Your Arms - Chairlift

If you have an affection for the Fleetwood Mac albums of the 80s, there's a good chance you will already know this song. Brooklyn duo Chairlift specialise in re-configuring that slick AOR sound into something fresh and future-proof, producer Patrick Wimberly already mastering pure electronic pop two albums in. I Belong In Your Arms is their moment of unashamed romanticism, airily wafting a chorus that is forever soundtracking a soft focus, New York-set rom-com starring Ally Sheedy. Which is pretty much as good it gets in my book.

I Belong In Your Arms by Chairlift - listen on Spotify here.

From: Something (2012)

Stranger by Dead Mellotron

Born of their shoegaze-obsessive club night at The Social in London, record label Sonic Cathedral has already released plenty of intriguing material but Dead Mellotron's new album Glitter might be the best yet. Ditching the showy complexity of some post-rock, Dead Mellotron go straight for the heart. Straightforwardly soaring riffs and unfussy atmospherics dominate, especially on the opening Stranger, a sun-drenched climb to a spacey comedown on the other side. With John Frazier's vocals barely audible, it's a little like Explosions In The Sky without the guitar frippery, a record to get lost in with just enough melodic directness to stir the senses when needed. Proving, as ever, that keeping it simple is often the best policy.

Stranger by Dead Mellotron - listen on Spotify here.

From: Glitter (2012)

This One's Different by Howler

Witnessing a band on an obvious ascent to stardom can be a pretty breathtaking thing. The confidence, the ambition, the pursuit of rock and roll dreams about to come to glorious fruition. But most exciting of all is the realisation that their music has struck a chord so sweetly that it's impossible for others not to feel the same way. Seeing Howler in a small venue last night was the first time I recall that sense of anticipation since The Strokes in 2001. Songs straining at the leash to be heard by the masses, a band so immaculately attuned to each other's movements that it looks unerringly effortless. Of course The Strokes are a good reference point as This One's Different attests - fuzzed-out guitars, arrow-sharp melodies, a seductive insouciance - but Howler are a little more ragged, in obvious thrall to Seattle as well as New York and not quite as predestined to magazine covers.   All of which makes them more lovable but no less effective when it comes to indie dancefloor thrills. Ones to watch in other words.

This One's Different by Howler - listen on Spotify here.

From: America Give Up (2012)

Sure Shot by Beastie Boys

It's always a shock when someone you admire dies but reading a tweet about Adam Yauch's death on Friday night was real jolt. As lots of people have said since, something about the vitality and devilish delight in the Beasties' music makes it almost impossible not to think of the three of them B-boying their way around the 5 Boroughs forever more. And so to my favourite Beasties track. Of course there are tonnes to choose from but this is the one that I will forever associate with great nights out with mates, leaping around dirty dancefloors, and probably the first time I realised that hip hop wasn't all guns, drugs and Vanilla Ice. In the hands of the Beastie Boys it could be goofy, fun and still impossibly cool. More than anything theirs is a sound that makes you feel ten feet tall, an attitude and groove that you can't leave without a smile on your face.

Sure Shot by Beastie Boys - listen on Spotify here.

Down In The Woods by Richard Hawley

Few artists of recent years have a body of work as consistently spine-tingling as Richard Hawley. Far from being a man out of his time, with his 50s obsessions and Roy Orbison croon, the former Longpig and Pulp acolyte seems to have set the bar for others, inspiring the songwriting of his peers and his apprentices alike (see The Last Shadow Puppets and Alex Turner's questionable quiff). He could be forgiven for resting on his laurels and making an(other) brilliant album of whiskey-filtered ballads to his beloved Sheffield, all of which makes his new album Standing At The Sky's Edge even more invigorating. Angry, loud and downright lascivious in places, the first song to stand out on initial listens is this one, a call to arms to reject the trappings of urban life and get down and dirty in the sticks. Amid buzz-saw guitars and squealing feedback, Hawley keeps his cool but a bead of sweat can be on that bequiffed forehead. Bracing stuff.

Down In The Woods by Richard Hawley - listen to The Guardian's stream here.

From: Standing At The Sky's Edge - out on Monday 7th May

Dirty Paws by Of Monsters And Men

It's time to escape to the country, retreat back to nature, "A new start, try the simple life" as Damon Albarn put it on Country House. A move that Icelandic dreamers Of Monsters And Men would be well-placed to soundtrack. Having already garnered the tag "the new Arcade Fire" in the States, their widescreen folk certainly   bears out some comparisons - foot-stomping heartiness, tub-thumping exultation - but Dirty Paws reminds me more of the gorgeous interlacing vocals of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, songwriting that lives in its own space and time, seemingly unconcerned with the modern world. If you're inclined to flee urban life for a few minutes, this is the perfect departure point.

Dirty Paw by Of Monsters And Men - listen on Spotify here.

From: My Head Is An Animal - 2012

Ace by The Big Sleep

On this day of Armageddon weather, a song which sounds distinctly elemental, something that was made to be played amid a howling gale. The Big Sleep are a Brooklyn duo in thrall to the interesting edges of rock music but capable of pulling those strands into three enthralling minutes. Touching on a palette of post-rock and shoegaze with singer Sonya Balchandani's swooping vocals, Ace is ultimately a power-chord blizzard, throwing itself ever further into the tumult but showing enough restraint to sound genuinely effortless. A tricky thing to pull off in a Force Nine gale.

Ace by The Big Sleep - listen on Spotify here.

From: Nature Experiments (2012)

April's playlist

Here's a wee Spotify playlist of all the songs featured in April. Enjoy!

Play the April playlist

Another Sunny Day by Belle and Sebastian

When you look at 2012's TV poster girl for 'alternative', Zooey Deschanel's 'kooky' lead in New Girl, the accusations of twee filed against Belle and Sebastian in the 90s seem pretty daft. Of course their songs live in their own singular universe, something their devoted fanbase delights in, largely informed by their educated, arty Glaswegian upbringings, but their songwriting has often been darker than they've been given credit for. Eloquently dealing with rape, mental illness and sexuality over the course of their many albums, their songs aren't all fleets of childhood nostalgia and Motown pastiche. Another Sunny Day, from 2006's The Life Pursuit, ticks all the classic B&S boxes - hummable melody, immaculate 60s harmonies, requisite teenage yearning - but lyrically its tale of doomed young love is cut through with a sadness which belies its sunny disposition. Heartbreaking but comfortingly wistful, like an old love letter, my money would be on it soundtracking an episode of New Girl very soon.

Another Sunny Day by Belle and Sebastian - listen on Spotify here.

Drifting In And Out by Porcelain Raft

The morning after the night before. Through the fug and recriminations you emerge into the sun and for a minute, everything is OK. A little surge of serotonin before the poison in your bloodstream takes hold. Porcelain Raft, aka globe-trotting producer Mauro Remiddi, makes an excellent soundtrack for these peculiarly ecstatic moments, perfectly encapsulated in the blissed-out shoegaze of Drifting In And Out, a beautifully indistinct blur of warmth and peace that washes over you and departs before you can even really remember how it went. But for those three minutes you'll be drowned in it, unable to function without it. For a brief time you won't even care about the monumental hangover that's about to hit.

Drifting In And Out by Porcelain Raft - listen on Spotify here.

Forget You All The Time by Cloud Nothings

Cleveland-born Dylan Baldi (that's Cleveland Ohio), may only have been 18 when he wrote this - from Cloud Nothings' 2011 debut album - but his sense of melody and the mechanics of human relations were already pretty well-attuned. A satisfyingly lo-fi, sludgy production (this is essentially a CD-R recorded in his parents' basement), Forget You All The Time is an exhilarating, punky stab in the heart, a man only convincing himself that he's over her. Impeccably scuzzy pop.

Forget You All The Time by Cloud Nothings - listen on Spotify here.

From: Cloud Nothings (2011)

This Must Be Where It Ends by Brett Anderson

A couple of months old but still worthy of mention, Mr Anderson's fourth solo album, Black Rainbows, came on the back of the long-awaited Suede reformation and it seems like the idea of getting back to his alma mata had a restorative effect on his own work. The wonderful single Brittle Heart would be an obvious choice of highlight but I'm going to plump for this, a typically brooding, rain-blown swoon, full of the usual Anderson tics - faded glamour, doomed romance, mistresses in Mercedes - but a song whose backdrop is positively post-rock, soft-loud guitars and rolling bass and drums taking their own sweet time. While it can't help but itch towards the 'EPIC' button, Brett hasn't sounded this good since The Wild Ones. It seems that the bosom of his old band is a healthy place for him to be.

This Must Be Where It Ends by Brett Anderson - listen on Spotify here.

Blue by The Verve

From the days before they became a definite article, Blue is their finest moment to my ears, a swirling rush of sound,  propelled by the kind of gargantuan groove they sadly lacked in later years, Ashcroft's vocals low enough in the mix to evoke the idea that it was recorded in the middle of an almighty storm (fitting for a song from Storm In Heaven). "Let's steal a car and listen to stars" intones Dickie amid the din. Three minutes of sky-scraping confidence and youthful hedonism that has been rarely been bettered.

Blue by The Verve - listen on Spotify here.

Disparate Youth by Santigold

Four years is a long time in pop music. But proving that she's lost none of her electro-pop nous, Santigold's comeback single Disparate Youth picks up where cracking debut album Santogold left off. Tight, syncopated beats, tasty bass and a new-found sheen suggests she's been listening to the likes of Grimes and Class Actress in her time off. New album Master Of My Make-Believe should be a blast. As Santigold knows, sometimes taking your time is the best way to leap forward.

Disparate Youth by Santigold - listen on Spotify here.

From: Master Of My Make-Believe - out 23rd April

Tumble Down by Terry Malts

Perfection can be overrated. Sometimes it's the wrong turns and the rough edges that make life interesting. A conclusion reached by members of San Fran Smiths-fanatics Magic Bullets, who decided to take a break from making shimmery indie pop songs and formed Terry Malts to explore something more earthy and direct. Tumble Down is an excellent advert for their manifesto of simple, dirty rock 'n' roll. Firstly it sounds like it was recorded down a mine shaft, such is its ramshackle clattering, but with Corey Cunningham's guitar occasionally bursting through the mix with a few tearing riffs and Phil Benson crooning somewhere in the mid-distance. It's like Surfer Blood if they'd spent all of their cash on cheap speed and been kicked out of their nice studio. And how can that not be a good thing?

Tumble Down by Terry Malts - listen on Spotify here.

From: Killing Time (2012)

Bavarian #1 (Say You Will) by Miike Snow

It's probably a little unfair to label Miike Snow as one-hit wonders, but 2009's Animal was the highlight of an otherwise messy, underwhelming debut album. Thankfully their second LP, last month's Happy To You, is much better, a skewed pop record full of skittering beats and tunes that take off in strange directions. In fact it's no surprise to discover that pre-Miike Snow the duo worked with Madonna and Britney (Toxic is one of theirs, after which they could surely retire happy). The best of the new songs is this one, Bavarian #1 (Say You Will), which rolls in on military drums and an insistent, cranium-wrecking little melody, a breathless momentum making it one of freshest things I've heard this year. The vocals bear a passing resemblance to that Gotye song that got to Number One but to these ears, the sense of carefully constructed abandon recalls Peter Gabriel in his heyday. If you're not still singing it this time tomorrow, you've probably been listening to Toxic.

Bavarian #1 (Say You Will)  - listen on Spotify here.

From: Happy To You (2012)

Box Of Stones by Benjamin Francis Leftwich

The slow, creeping influence of  Bon Iver is beginning to take hold. From Skinny Love being performed on Britain's Got Talent (albeit in the form of Birdy's breathy take), to numerous acoustic-brandishing singer-songwriters working out how they can match a back story which involves backwoods cabins and mononucleosis, the quiet ones are on the rise. York-born Benjamin Francis Leftwich is one such troubled soul but on the evidence of Box Of Stones, may just be able to move out of Bon's quivering shadow. A delicate sigh of a song, its wispy melody, softly-strung vocals and misty lyrics conjure a familiar bleak-but-beautiful landscape but ultimately it's a uniquely English take on wilderness melancholy. One suspects Mr Iver would approve.

Box Of Stones by Benjamin Francis Leftwich - listen on Spotify here.

Once I Was Pretty by The Mary Onettes

Swedish pop clearly has pedigree. Abba, Robyn, Roxette. Must be something to do with that midwinter darkness and shimmery summer light. Extremes bring out the best in that time-honoured musical contradiction of joyous melody / heartbreaking lyrics. The Mary Onettes hail from the small town of Jonkoping and have clearly spent month upon winter month hunkering down with their Cure, Bunnymen and Roses records. The result is this lovely piece of dreamy synth and strings indie, a rumination on true love and getting older and, rather like one-album wonders, British band The Upper Room, more than the sum of its obvious 80s influences. A song specifically designed to get you through the night.

Once I Was Pretty by The Mary Onettes - listen on Spotify here.

From: Islands (2010)

Insomniac by Echobelly

Nostalgia can be a lovely thing in small doses. As this tune appeared out of nowhere on a Spotify shuffle adventure the other day, I was suddenly back in 1994, had wonky teeth, still fancied the girl down the road and was wearing a coat that I thought made me look like Liam Gallagher but was undoubtedly more Frank Gallagher. Plus ca change. And boy, is it of its time. Jangly guitars, feisty frontwoman and a tale of cocaine-clouded nights on the town and y'know, the comedown and stuff. So far, so mid-90s indie. But Insomniac is certainly a cut above most of the minor league Britpop dross. It's got a blockbuster of a chorus, gloriously chunky major chords and a preternatually bright-eyed vocal from Sonya Madan. One to play to the young 'uns when she inevitably turns up in the Never Mind The Buzzcocks identity parade...

Insomniac by Echobelly - listen on Spotify here.

From: Everyone's Got One (1994)

I And Love And You by The Avett Brothers

Checking out a photo of The Avett Brothers this morning, I was a little perturbed to find them staring into the middle distance wearing Stetsons. Yes, they are definitely country and there is definitely something of the corn-fried cod-philosophy of the worst country and western in their lyrics but c'mon lads I thought, there's no need to signpost it. Dodgy hats aside and waistcoats aside, this is a sumptuous song, the title track from their 2010 major label debut. Apparently they were a bit punky in their early days but there's no sign of that here. Just pure pastoral beauty, a gently insistent chorus and a wreck of a man heading into the big city to find salvation. Perfect for late night ruminations or late afternoon daydreaming.

I And Love And You by The Avett Brothers - listen on Spotify here.

From: I And Love And You (2010)

Every Time I Say It by Ideals

Remember the early Noughties? It seemed not a day went by without another exciting, glamorously disheveled guitar band crash landed on the front page of the NME ready to steal hearts. And some of them were actually really good. That golden age of chart-crashing, interesting indie might have past but there are still some plectrum-loving gems to be found on the peripheries, London four-piece Ideals being one of them. Every Time I Say It, from last year's Let You Anger Leave You EP, is an exquisite indie pop song, a little like Interpol with the serotonin levels turned up just a notch, or The Stills. Strokes-lite guitar gloss and a cracking chorus of doe-eyed devotion in the face of stonewall emotional reticence, it deserves the audience it probably would have garnered in 2003.

Every Time I Say It by Ideals - listen on Spotify here.

From: Let Your Anger Leave You EP (2011)

March playlist

Here's a wee Spotify playlist of all the songs featured in March. Enjoy!

Click here for the March playlist

Mr Brown by Bob Marley

Sun is shining, time to crack out some easy-going reggae right? Well, almost. Mr Brown is, like pretty much everything Marley recorded, a primary colours, sun-dappled groove, guaranteed to put a smile on your face, but in many ways this is closer to the Lee Scratch Perry school of reggae - in fact it's no surprise to find that he's the producer. It doesn't quite summon the spirits to burn down your studio, but the maniacal laughter, heavy bass and bizarre imagery reveal something darker than Marley's normal oeuvre. Is it a Jamaican ghost story? Is it a cautionary tale about heroin? It's mysterious subject matter coupled with its soul-gone-dub blast puts it a cut above Bob's mainstream hits. Best served with a slight chill.

Mr Brown by Bob Marley - listen on Spotify here.

From: Bob Marley and Friends (2007)

Simple Song by The Shins

Every season needs an anthem - a song you will associate with a certain time and place until the day you die - and I've already earmarked Simple Song for Spring / Summer 2012. The lead single off The Shins' long-awaited longplayer Port Of Morrow, it takes the 80s power-pop template that Noah And The Whale dabbled with on last year's Last Night On Earth and pushes the melody-factor skyward. It's joyously radio-friendly, sunny-of-chorus and showcases James Mercer's typically idiosyncratic way with a lovesick lyric. A big-hearted bid for the big time.

Simple Song by The Shins - listen on Spotify here.

From: Port Of Morrow (2012)

I Could Be A Saint by Emma Pollock

Continuing yesterday's Scottish theme, here's a sumptuous pop song from one of indie's true heroines. In her former role as vocalist and co-songwriter with The Delgados, Pollock was the dreamy voice behind many a granite-edged symphonic beauty. I Could Be A Saint is from her second solo album but could easily have slipped from a Delgados album - although it's a degree or two more strident than her former band, a defiant kiss-off to a useless lover  - "How you gonna break my heart? When you've never even made my day?" - and replete a chorus that swoons and sweeps in all the right places. Bitterness has rarely sounded so sugar sweet.

I Could Be A Saint by Emma Pollock - listen on Spotify here.

From: The Law Of Large Numbers (2010)

Life In A Scotch Sittingroom #2 Episode 11 by Ivor Cutler

In search of summer songs to play in our mini-heatwave, I came across this curiosity from the 1970s. Ivor Cutler was a Scottish poet and songwriter who found fame late in life. Loved by John Peel, The Beatles (he stars in Magical Mystery Tour) and the brilliant Neil Innes (Monty Python, The Rutles etc), his finest work seems to be Life In A Scotch Sittingroom #2, an affectionately satirical take on his childhood in the slums of Glasgow. Episode 11 tells the story of Ivor and his unfortunate siblings being dragged out into the countryside for a walk, Ivor's mock-Burns poetry hypnotically delivered over woozy instrumentation. It's strange atmosphere recalls the lulling, mid-summer drowsiness of Elbow's Lippy Kids, whilst conjuring images of a place and time that feels so separate from the chaotic world we live in, it's pretty much a guaranteed four minutes of calm. A little pool of tranquility from the tenements.

Life In A Scotch Sittingroom #2, Episode 11 by Ivor Cutler - listen on Spotify here.

From: Jammy Smears (1976)

Ruby by Cheap Girls

Never having been to Michigan, I sadly have no idea what it's like, but in my head it's a city of dark blues bars populated by tattoo-emblazoned brawlers, bourbon-soaked women and bands like Cheap Girls slogging their guts and hearts out every night on tiny stages for three blind men and a dog. And that view is pretty much solely based on this song. Thankfully not a cover of the Kaiser Chiefs' rather turgid hit, but a song that topples over with melody, staggers over its drums and vomits out another guitar line just when you least expect it. On a par with other brilliantly down-trodden American bar bands like The Hold Steady and The Gaslight Anthem, it pretty much demands repeated listens. As Paul Simon rightly sang, Michigan seems like a dream to me now.

Ruby by Cheap Girls - listen on Spotify here.

From: Giant Orange (2012)

Muask by Trisco (Eddie Halliwell Remix)

It's time for everyone to report to the dance floor. Now my expertise in dance music is rather like my knowledge of art. I don't know a lot but I know what I like. And when this came on in the office the other day it was like we'd temporarily shifted our sterile London office to an Iberian club with pogo dancers, glowsticks and a gigantic glitterball. Smiles and head nodding all round. If dance music is about escapism then this certainly does the trick over six minutes of propulsive techno which hits a heightened groove just at the moment you think it's falling away. Indeed, it's a masterclass of delayed dance floor satisfaction. Turn it up loud and get your colleagues in the mood for a messy night out.

Musak by Trisco (Eddie Halliwell Remix) - listen on Spotify here.

From: Musak (2011)

Cadillac by Andrew W.K.

For anyone familiar with Andrew WK's debut I Get Wet, his 2009 album 55 Cadillac was a bit of a jolt. Gone (well, almost gone) was the party-hard 80s rock posturing, replaced by improvised piano interludes in tribute to his favourite car. The title track is its finest example, a night time cruise of delicate major chords which plunges back into some pleasing soft-rock riffage at its destination. A spiritual cousin of Richard Hawley's Lowedges, it's a quiet rumination on the freedom of the road and the dangerous beauty of a machine that can kill pretty youth. A vintage slice of modern Americana. 

Cadillac by Andrew W.K. - listen on Spotify here.

From: 55 Cadillac (2009)

The Night by School Of Seven Bells

Feeling a bit of a chill? Lights flickering all of a sudden? That would probably by the icy presence of School Of Seven Bells whose new album Ghostory is an ever-so-slightly ridiculous concept LP, based around a "young girl called Lafaye and the ghosts in her life". Well let's put that nonsense to one side for a moment and enjoy the rather wondrous album opener, The Night. Glacial, sensual and anything but dead in the water, its propulsive slinkiness is as compelling as the sweet, sweeping vocals of Alejandra Deheza, a woman who could make a shopping list sound dreamy. Things that go bump in the night have rarely sounded this enticing.

The Night by School Of Seven Bells - listen on Spotify here.

From: Ghostory (2012)

Let Her Go by Sissy And The Blisters

I'm a big fan of songs that don't overstay their welcome. If you can say all you need to in two minutes 44 seconds (as Guildford four-piece Sissy And The Blisters do here), then I'm all for it. Don't go widdling on for ten minutes about how rubbish your life is unless you're Jason Pierce (see my Spiritualized post from last week) or Bob Dylan. Raucous, garage rock 'n' roll of the highest order, Let Her Go sounds like a lost Clash single fronted by Ian Curtis, intent on battering you around the head before leaving you in a mess on the dance floor at about two minutes 30. Pretty much everything you need from a pop song about having to split up with someone because all you wanted to do is go out and get drunk. It's economy, stupid.

Let Her Go by Sissy And The Blisters - listen on Spotify here.

From: The Let Her Go EP (2011)

To The Sky by Maps

As refreshing as a shimmery March morning, To The Sky is the perfect pick-me-up for a stultifying March afternoon. Sculpted from the clouds by one-man electro-shoe-gazer James Chapman, a.k.a. Maps, it's from his debut album, the wonderful We Can Create, which was nominated for the Mercury Music Prize back in the days when the Klaxons were being all shouty, bleepy and generally annoying. They might have carried off the award but this four minutes of sky-scraping dream pop lives longer in the memory. A briefly-lost classic.

To The Sky by Maps - listen on Spotify here.

From: We Can Create (2007)

Anyway That You Want Me by Spiritualized

Friday should be party tune day shouldn't it? Well, how about a seven minute chemically-stimulated ode to unrequited lust, first recorded by rattling 60s popsters The Troggs (them who did Wild Thing), here reimagined  in the addled but brilliant mind of Jason Pierce as an orchestral suite aiming for the stars. You might not hear it down Ritzys at Happy Hour but there's a similar sense of ecstatic teen longing that lingers beneath the strings and drones. This was Spiritualized's first single way back in 1990 when the world was baggy-shaped and pilled to the heavens and I can only imagine this sounded like it had been beamed from another planet. As us converts count down the days to their new album Sweet Heart, Sweet Light, it's a compelling reminder of what a very special band they are.

Anyway That You Want Me by Spiritualized - listen on Spotify here.

From: The Complete Works of Spitualized Vol 1 (2003)

Publish My Love by Rogue Wave

I owe this one to an ex girlfriend who raved about it many years ago after Lauren Laverne played it on her XFM Breakfast Show (before the Alex Zane salad days of commercial indie radio), and she was bloody right. It's an absolute cracker. Oddly distinct from the rest of Rogue Wave's idiosyncratic back catalogue, its soaring, cloud-bursting guitars are up there with the Roses' Ten Storey Love Song, which it always reminds me of - a kind of Californian cousin with a shimmery sun-baked glow. God only knows what the chorus, "You could never publish my love", actually means - is she planning some Mills and Boon bonk-a-thon novel? Is his love so unremittingly perverted it could never be put into print? Who knows. A mysterious message from a mysterious band but this is pretty much the sound of falling in love for the first time, times ten. A nice keepsake from an otherwise wonky relationship.

Publish My Love by Rogue Wave - listen on Spotify here.

From: Descended Like Vultures (2005)

Hold On by Alabama Shakes

Clearly a musician's background shouldn't matter a jot when rating their output (requisite punk posh boy Joe Strummer is often rolled out as an example and here he is again - poor Joe), but when your drummer used to check radiation leaks at a nuclear power plant and your incredible singer used to be a postwoman, then it does tend to make your thrilling rock 'n' roll 'n' blues rather more authentic. And so it is with Alabama Shakes. Firstly they are actually from Alabama and not Surrey, which helps. And secondly Hold On is a rollicking, yearning blast of southern-fried faith in oneself ("Bless my heart, bless my soul, I didn't think I'd make it to 22 years old"), coupled with rolling, sunshine-speckled Americana riffs. An afternoon wake up call from the other side of the tracks.

Hold On by Alabama Shakes - listen on Spotify here.

Amoureuse by Kiki Dee

That towering national treasure, Jarvis Cocker, played this on his 6 Music radio show a while ago and I had to sit down for a minute it was that good. Poor Kiki Dee will be forever remembered, of course, for Don't Go Breaking My Heart with Elton John - great pop song and everything but it barely scratches the surface of Kiki's talents - lest we forget she was signed to Motown and this song shows you why. A cover of a song written by French artist Veronique Sanson (no, me neither), it's a devastating account of the aftermath of a girl losing her virginity to some unfeeling cove. Beautiful vocals, whooshing brass and strings and a knock out of a chorus ("I should have told him, I'd do anything if I could hold him"), it's fragile white-girl soul at its finest. A real heart breaker.

Amoureuse by Kiki Dee - listen on Spotify here.

From: The Best Of Kiki Dee (2009)

Friend Crush by Friends

Almost daily now I wonder if I should just up sticks and move to Brooklyn such is the quality of new music which courses through the veins of that New York borough. Friends are another fine NYC export, and fit neatly into the slew of bands producing precision-cut electro pop that sounds like it was made by machines but still feels like it has the heart of a human behind it (see also Class Actress). Dreamy and impossibly glamorous, Friend Crush is all about making that hip person you find intimidating your mate (kind of stalker-ish but just go with it) and even if they don't stick with you, this song certainly will. You have been warned.

Friend Crush by Friends - listen on Spotify here.

PS The video's great too! Take a look here.

Leaving On The 5th by Voxhaul Broadcast

It's Friday night. You're in a strange city for a few more hours and you meet someone who knocks you sideways. You know you have to leave in the morning but for a few heady hours you can pretend you're not. Think Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy in Before Sunrise. This is the premise of the glorious three minutes that make up Leaving On The 5th by Voxhaul Broadcast, a band formed on the golden shores of Orange County (yes, I assume they live in a pool house, funded by a mysteriously benevolent family). A mix of sunny surf-rock and pop-production polish, it rattles along with an abandon perfectly suited to its subject matter. It's like Katy Perry with a good tune and a bit of soul. In other words, the perfect song for a Friday afternoon.

Leaving On The 5th by Voxhaul Broadcast - listen on Spotify here.

From: Timing Is Everything (2011)

I am The Lion King - Papa

The sun is shining (almost), the world is lightening and thawing for Spring and the finest soundtrack I've found so far this year is Papa's glistening, riff-laden I am The Lion King. Coming on like Modest Mouse's brilliant Float On, I am The Lion King oozes Californian insouciance (Papa are indeed Californian and are led by Girls drummer Darren Weiss), and romantic intent ("I want to give you my number..."), all blasted out in a strident Springsteen FM radio sheen. A shaft of sunlight in a dreary old week.

I Am The Lion King by Papa - listen on Spotify here.

PS - I've been told the St Lucia remix of this song is excellent. It doesn't seem to be on Spotify yet but hunt it down!

Genesis - Grimes

This has been rolling around my cranium for days now - it's one of those songs that has an insidious quality that makes you love it more with each listen. So Grimes is another deliciously dreamy electro outfit (actually a girl called Claire Boucher, someone who endearingly claims not to own a mobile phone), to file alongside the wonderful Tycho and M83. That incommunicado isolation seeps into Genesis (nowt to do with Phil Collins by the way), a song to get lost in, all built around an undulating, bass-y riff, crackly beats and ravishing vocals from la Boucher. Absorbing stuff for days when the phone doesn't ring.

Genesis by Grimes - listen on Spotify here.

From: Visions (2012)

The Sea - Exitmusic

Not content with being in the cast of hit US TV series Boardwalk Empire, Aleksa Palladino is also one half of brooding NYC duo Exitmusic. Alongside her wonderfully-monikered hubby, Devon Church, she provides the billowy vocals to their atmospheric, electronically-tinged squall. The Sea, as the title suggests, is a swelling mass of moroseness, cut from the same stormy clouds as Radiohead’s Hail To The Thief, perfectly befitting a day of leaden skies and furrowed brows. A comfortingly beautiful wave of misery.

The Sea by Exitmusic - listen on Spotify here.

From: From Silence (2011)

Don’t Cut It Off – Soft Swells

From the warm shores of California via the quaint town of Lewes near Brighton, this track from LA / Brooklyn duo Soft Swells gently unwraps its transatlantic birth over three gorgeous minutes of West Coast harmony and underplayed English indie. Produced by Dave Lynch (Ed Harcourt and the criminally underrated Clearlake) in the rolling Sussex countryside, Don’t Cut It Off will appeal to anyone who loves the bucolic fuzziness of Band Of Horses or the long forgotten Lowgold. All sun, shade and a nagging undertow of a guitar refrain, it builds to a strident, melody-flecked plea for time and understanding from a lover. Heart grabbing stuff.

Don't Cut It Off by Soft Swells - listen on Spotify here.

From: Soft Swells (2012)