The Single Life: New Tunes This Week From Wilco, Grizzly Bear, Saatsuma & More

Yes, the pop music. Songs about cars and girls, love and lust, rock and rolling all night, and such. But as various parts of the world go batshit mental, remember music can be a little more than that. No, this doesn’t mean your Prophets Of Rage and such are going to lead to a new American government by next Thursday, but maybe we just need songs to make everyone just take a breath and think through the important stuff. Jeff Tweedy reflecting on his dad’s recent death while looking at flames in the streets lead to a unexpected new Wilco release. All Lives, You Say? (dBpm) works on Tweedy Senior’s more-than-reasonable philosophy that “If you know better, you can do better”. This is delivered by this superlative band in an almost old-style country-ish ramble, with proceeds going to hopefully making their currently well-broken country a better place. 

Others come at things somewhat more abstractly. Grizzly Bear’s return from a five-year hiatus continues with Mourning Sound (RCA). Apparently, there’s a celebration of feminism and its progress in the song’s typically idiosyncratic wanderings, as pop culture bonus points are accrued if you recognise that’s Clemence Poesy – that’s Fleur from various of the Harry Potter fillums, if unaware – as the featured lip-synch artiste herein. It’s up to you if the tune’s message is enhanced or a little obscured by the spanking of some very unattractive male behinds, and the utilisation of breast-mounted lasers to suppress opposition in a manner that may make this clip a little NSFW, perhaps depending on your employer. 

Conversely, some artist may become a little more orthodox as their career unfurls. The now solo-billed Ariel Pink, while still happily revelling in his eccentricities seems a little more sincere as Feels Like Heaven (Mexican Summer) rolls on, with a polite nod to The Psychedelic Furs in its tone, and a polite nod to The Cure in its title. You wait for pisstake to kick in, or maybe the tongue is simply in the cheek to begin with, even when the beepy synth solo hiccups its way into the odd rickety beast this is. 

Not relying on any such artifice – or at least not appearing to – Saatsuma continue their releases of quality with Crescent (Independent). Memphis Kelly’s vocals shiver and ponder, elemental rather than trying for some forced ‘sexiness’, or what purports to be. Cesar Rodrigues’ synth beds are neither oppressively moody nor needlessly jaunty. All up it just seems so assuredly put together it all just works to make something that is increasingly of world class and worthy of wider notice. 

Elsewhere, this indie music thing is a serious business. CREO, with a big approach and sound belying their indie status have an obvious aim in their business plan – the business of getting a song on Triple J. That’s not a criticism, it’s an absolutely acceptable aim and hope for Subtitles For X, Y, Z (Independent). Thus, they come on with music that is widescreen in its vision - maybe some Gang Of Youths in its emotionalism, with just a touch of The Killers in the middle eight. If your tastes are toward the mainstream of the alternative, press play. 

Similarly, there’s still a list of ingredients that can make you a critical darling for the UK music press that still has some cachet and influence when they don’t get caught up in their own importance. Currently lionised over there, Wolf Alice have a new song titled Beautifully Unconventional (Dirty Hit), and that title is almost a product description for the market they’re courting – by accident or design. They are just fashionably scruffy enough. There are rough bits among the gentle. Even their politics are on point as they champion that other beautiful loser, Jeremy Corbyn. London 2017 is maybe not that dissimilar to London 1997 - or London 1977 for that matter.

But in the timeless wide brown land of the Australian festival circuit, Ash Grunwald does what he does effortlessly. You Ain’t My Problem Anymore (Delta Groove) is absolutely good old “Well, fuck you!” blues as a former object of affection is given the kiss off and the piss off. In its chain-gang handclaps and twang this is absolute the stuff of stomping around the campfire before deciding if you can bothered wandering back to the carpark to get that other slab out of the rented campervan. 

Banff is more about bedroom synth storytelling, with Act Of Misacting (We Are Golden) having a nice tension to it, allowing you to see both sides of the argument and the soul in the machine. If others on this page are looking for that airplay on the national youth network, or to soundtrack a car commercial or football highlights package of whichever code you favour, the artist formerly known as part of Little Casino seems to be making music for its own sake, with a quality and style almost guaranteeing a goodly rotation on various community radio stations to which some of you most probably listen.