Infinite Playlist #9




1. The Cardigans – “First Band on the Moon” (1996)

Every now and then, I get an itch to dig into the careers of one-hit wonders. Given that one of my all-time favorite bands (Devo) is theoretically one, I am willing to believe that some are even better than their radio reputation has you believe. In the case of The Cardigans, it’s a curious affair because while I have felt like I’ve outgrown the charm of “Lovefool,” there is something about their sound that kept dragging me back. They had the elements of a good pop-rock band from the infectious vocals to the subversive melancholy hidden under the upbeat hooks. For all I know, The Cardigans were a hidden gem waiting to be discovered, underappreciated by the drudging of time.

Throughout “First Band on the Moon,” I became entranced by what they were doing. As one can expect from their big hit, they are bound to surprise you from track to track. Stories of doomed romances and isolation quickly became dance-ready jams that showed the complexities of a depressed person projecting a false optimism to the world around them. Whereas I could argue it sometimes came across as a novelty, I still think the orchestration on every song is toe-tapping. There is something in the water in Sweden where even the dourest exports have this biting humor to them. It encourages you to listen closer, to notice that “Lovefool” is less a generic love song and more the cries of a desperate person.

There’s still room to argue whether they’re a band that endears beyond their breakthrough album. Even then, I buy the potential for them to be so much more. Much like Kero Kero Bonito in recent years, there is something that seems childish on the surface but hides an almost therapeutic maturity. It’s even there on their strangely joyful and jazzy cover of Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man,” which feels primed for the modernized “slow cover song” trope in trailers. Beyond that, this is a record that is full of innovation and bliss, capturing the potential for 90s pop-rock that isn’t as cynical as grunge or as aggressive as nu-metal. It’s something more innocent than that. It’s just plain fun.



2. Japanese Breakfast – “Soft Sounds From Another Planet” (2017)

There has been some part of me curious to check out Japanese Breakfast since 2022. I was in an English class and we were assigned to read an excerpt from “Crying in H-Mart.” Not only was it enjoyable, but it led to a discussion between the teacher and a few students about how the singer was “everywhere.” It’s true that “Jubilee” was a fairly recent release, but even then her work had escaped me. As someone who enjoyed a good dose of bedroom pop, I felt self-conscious as time went on that I hadn’t checked out her work. I deified her work, believing that I was missing out.

As I worked through her catalog in early 2024, I discovered that while it would take a while to like all her work, “Soft Sounds From Another Planet” was a runaway favorite. Maybe it’s just the order listened in, but I found every orchestration to be well-designed with some of her most poignant lyrics. Her introspection accompanies a welcomed experimentation that shows her building a soundscape that elevates into real emotions. Sometimes I found myself wanting to close my eyes and just be immersed in the atmosphere, allowing for a mix of joy and anxiety to collide in provocative ways. 

Ultimately, this album leaves me with a great sense of her potential as an artist. Her cosmic themes are transcendent and make you feel like a being wandering through space. It makes the loneliness feel more real and the fleeting moments of connection even stronger. What helps it stand out is how everything feels the strongest it can be, embodying a human yearning that exists within all of us. I may not love her other work as much as others, but I can only hope as I give them a few more spins that her world continues to open up and reveal something even more beautiful. I don’t exactly think she’s as “everywhere” as my classmate once had me believe, but I’m glad she’s around here. 



3. Various Artists – “How to Dance in Ohio” (2024)

So far in 2024, there hasn’t been a musical that I’ve been as curious to check out as How to Dance in Ohio. While I was a bit tepid on their Macy’s Day Parade performance, I was sold on the promise that it would be a musical about autistic characters played entirely by autistic actors. The novelty was enough to give me hope that it would be amazing, following in the wake of Kimberly Akimbo’s equally neurodivergent view of the world. For months, I had my fingers crossed, hoping that the cast recording would deliver something encouraging. Even if the show had closed by the time of this publication, I hoped it would be a show worth rooting for and hopefully lead to a revival or tour.

The best news is that in the pile of new shows, it’s definitely one that I come out a bigger fan of. While every show has one or two keepers, I have found a lot of recent comedy musicals a bit lacking in the catchy department, if just because I’m not sold on their characterizations. Here we at least get some of the most charming teen characters I have heard in a long time. The fact that we can learn a lot about characters through lengthy diatribes about Australia and animals shows me a gifted lyricist builds empathy through the unique way that autistic individuals interact with the world. Maybe it’s because I am autistic, but I was personally moved by how well these facts-listing numbers are orchestrated, making me anticipate the best moments of the show being less the actual dance and just a chance to see these characters in their natural habitats.

To provide one caveat, I do think that the narrative is ultimately too simple on the recording and makes me worried that this is a B-Side to The Prom. Even then, it’s a low-stakes musical about feeling good and encouraging people to be themselves. If taken on how much it made me smile, this show would be rated highly. A lot of these songs are destined to be some of my Broadway favorites by the end of the year. I do worry it’s probably become obscure by this time next year, but hopefully, I will be on the bandwagon keeping it alive. Maybe it’s not the most revolutionary story, but it’s a reminder of where theater can still go. Hopefully, this will lead to more neurodivergent tales of similar ambitions soon because it’s quite a thrill to see where these actors’ careers go from here.



4. Katy Kirby – “Blue Raspberry” (2024)

Last year, I approached the end of February with two of my favorite albums of the year. By January of 2024, I found my first real surprise. Katy Kirby is an artist whose work I am not too familiar with, and yet I found myself immediately drawn to her. She is a singer-songwriter singing of young love. Not only that, but it was a queer awakening as depicted on the album’s cover. I was intrigued enough to continue, finding myself discovering that “Blue Raspberry” was in fact one of the most in-the-pocket albums I have heard so far this year. I love an artist who is raw and honest, subverting expectations even through the storytelling style. She may not be all that surprising on the surface, but she has created one of the most enthralling listens.

On some level, I think that I tend to be a sucker for this type of bedroom pop. It’s not too dissimilar from the many Boygenius-adjacent albums where underneath the catchy hooks is a complicated sense of self. Kirby is biographical, looking back on a youth that was defined by growing up in a religious background and finding herself trying to break free of its allure. It’s one whose revelations are subtle, almost coming to the listener in hindsight as the final chords play. This is the allusion to where her life is heading in the years ahead while finding that excitement of first love and breaking free of a culture that doesn’t fulfill her wants. It’s bittersweet, but also anticipatory. 

I will be surprised if this album doesn’t rate highly by the time that December comes around. To me, it has always been enjoyable but has grown with each listen. There is a dive into these small moments that hide lyrics playing with the listener. Somewhere underneath is someone willing to be extroverted but also selective with information. Kirby is a performer who plays to the best of the heart on her sleeve technique and welcomes you in with a warm hug. She’s a friend who makes you care about her throughout 11 songs and feel nostalgic for experiences you may or may not have been around for. All in all, this is a great way to kick off 2024. I can only hope more albums are this good. 


5. P.J. Harvey – “White Chalk” (2007)

A few months ago, I found myself looking for a list of the “saddest” albums. I was just in a mood where I wanted to delve into some complicated feelings. The one that stood out on the list was “White Chalk.” It was far from my first P.J. Harvey album, but I was attracted to a mix of related information. For starters, it was divisive and nowhere near as accessible as her early masterpieces. Part of me had to discover what made it stand out in a catalog where Harvey had expressed heavy emotions constantly. 

I can’t say that this is her most intense album individually, but taking every song together, there’s a clear sadness that exists within its framework. It’s the story of a woman who is being abused by those around her. She feels trapped in her world and does everything to escape. The production is more opaque than usual, allowing for a meditative quality to bleed with the isolating lyrics as she finds a sinister payoff. It’s a journey that captures Harvey at her best, forcing the listener on a journey that may breed despair, but also provides a catharsis in recognizing how someone survives such a difficult experience.

For what it’s worth, I think it’s one of her most focused works that I’ve heard. She has always been about pushing boundaries and challenging expectations, but here it’s about delving into a singular vision that is unlike a lot of what she’s done. It requires patience and risk-taking that leads you into shocking corners of a woman’s mind. It’s the realization that looking for potential joy isn’t always that easy to come across. Sometimes it takes suffering and mistakes to find. I love this album and hope there are more gems off the beaten path to choose from.

Comments