Petersens take on Caledonia classic

New version: The Petersens performing Caledonia in a YouTube video. From left are Katie Petersen, Emmett Franz, Julieanne Petersen, Ellen Haygood and Matt Petersen. Obscured is Karen Peterson

A refreshing version of the classic folk ballad Caledonia has been delivered by The Petersens, a bluegrass family band from the United States who I previously wrote about in this 2020 post.

While it's near impossible to better the original sung by the song's composer Dougie MacLean, this cover has an elegance of its own thanks to the waifish quality of Julianne Petersen's vocals.

The youngest member of the band combines singing duties with mandolin playing, wrapping the song in her signature delicate and fragile voice, hinting at the ethereal and bringing her own dimensions to the track.

A gem within the The Petersens, she often delivers strikingly beautiful interpretations of well-known tracks such as Coldplay's The Scientist, Sting's Fields of Gold, and The Cranberries' Dreams - the latter a wonderful tilt of the hat to the late Doleres O'Riordan. The natural vocal inflections of O'Riordan and Julianne Petersen are closely aligned.

Caledonia, which dates from 1977, is MacLean's much-loved ode to his native country, Scotland. It has found favour not only in Scotland but amongst the other Celtic nations, notably Ireland. The Petersens have an affinity for Irish and Scottish tunes and chose to record the song to celebrate St Patrick's Day. They'd originally encountered it being played at gatherings while touring in Ireland.

As a unit The Petersens have delightful chemistry and formidable musicianship, combining the sound of fiddle, guitar, mandolin, banjo, double bass and dobro, with five prominent, confident and distinctive vocal styles.

Backing vocals on Caledonia come from Julianne Petersen's sister Ellen Haygood and Emmett Franz. All the core singing members could have brought the track alive in different ways. Matt Petersen has a ranging voice, while the aforementioned Franz continues to emerge as a solid, thoughtful singing talent.

Banjo player Haygood, the middle Petersen sister, once appeared on the TV contest show American Idol, and has a melodic and a wide-ranging vocal style.

The Petersens' musical leader is Katie Petersen, who gifts an adorably grounded presence to the band. A versatile fiddle player, she possesses the most faultless and agile singing of all. However, on Caledonia she concentrates fully on her fiddle.

I would be remiss not to mention final core playing member Karen Petersen, who provides a solid beat on the double bass.

Caledonia showcases the lilting joy of Julianne Petersen's voice and leaves one wondering how perfect it would be if The Petersens one day end up as special guests at Dougie MacLean's own Shades of Perthshire Amber festival.

Here is the official YouTube video of The Petersens performing Caledonia:

The Waterboys' conceptual take on Hopper

Touring again: Mike Scott, left, leads The Waterboys onstage during the opening night of their 2025 tour.

It promised to be a show with an unusual concept, and so it proved as The Waterboys opened their 2025 tour before a near-capacity audience at Basingstoke's Anvil venue.

Amongst those on stage was Mike Scott, the band's founding and sole ever-present member. It is said that since forming in 1983, The Waterboys have had more personnel than any other group, with the tally of past and present members now hovering north of seventy. The current five-piece unit have been together for a good number of years and it showed in the tightness of their performance. 

A Pagan Place, the titular song of the group's 1984 second album, was their opening gambit as they ignited the evening with a string of back catalogue gems. A powerful rendition of Glastonbury Song soon followed as they hit their stride. Album track How Long Will I Love You - a cover of which was a major hit for Ellie Golding - proved to be another audience pleaser.

As the evening unfolded it became clear the set was divided into three phases. The opening and closing featured career highlights, while the middle section delved into songs from the newly released and somewhat concept album Life, Death and Dennis Hopper. This celebration of the late actor echoes the treatment given to WB Yeats in 2011, when the band paid homage to the Irish poet with an album and tour.

So why now Hopper? Scott explained that the actor's life and career was tightly interwoven with cultural turning points in the second half of the twentieth century - from appearing alongside James Dean in Rebel Without A Cause and Giant, to directing and co-starring in the counter-culture movie Easy Rider. Also, it allowed a dive into a rich tapestry of Americana including Hopper's friendship with pop culture artist Andy Warhol, and his eight-day marriage to Michelle Phillips, of The Mamas & Papas. One of the night's songs was a ballad to Ms Phillips.

The Hopper section of the concert featured contributions from Barney Fletcher, the youthful guest backing singer who appears on the Sun Records-released album and adds strikingly unusual - and somewhat otherworldly - vocals. Also augmenting the core line-up on a few songs was support act Zervas & Pepper. 

Among the Hopper album tracks played were Hopper's On Top (Genius), Golf They Say, Andy (A Guy Like You) and the best of the new crop of tunes I Don't Know How I Made It.

A towering back screen behind the band was occasionally illuminated with video clips and photographs of Hopper, adding to the conceptual mood. One video showed Steve Earle singing Kansas, the album's opening track co-written by Earle and Scott.

Other notable guests on the album include Bruce Springsteen and Fiona Apple. Springsteen's contribution was on the song Ten Years Gone, which was played during the evening - alas, without an appearance by The Boss.

When the Hopper segment ended it was followed by further tunes from The Waterboys' past, with a clear leaning in to the 1985 album This Is The Sea, possibly to mark its 40th anniversary, but maybe also as a tip of the hat to former band member Karl Wallinger who died last year. That album's Scott-Wallinger composition Don't Bang The Drum, along with Medicine Bow, The Whole of the Moon, and The Pan Within were all performed. On the latter, the duelling keyboards of Brother Paul (Brown) and James Hallawell provided one of the evening's memorable moments.

Having already played the band's most famous tune The Whole of the Moon, it was the group's other signature song, Fisherman's Blues, that rounded off the encore to leave the audience happy as they departed.

In Basingstoke, on the opening night of a lengthy tour with many sold out gigs ahead, The Waterboys showed how they are continuing to push frontiers on their musical journey.

End of the evening: The Waterboys react to the cheers of the audience at the Anvil in Basingstoke

Karl Wallenger's masterful musical journey

Outstanding talent: Karl Wallenger on stage with The Waterboys in Leicester on October 11, 1985. This was his penultimate appearance with the group in the UK before he left to form his own band World Party.

Karl Wallenger, a remarkable musician and a standout talent of the past 40 years, has died at 66.

As an early member of The Waterboys he was part of the trio - alongside founder Mike Scott and Anthony Thistlewaite - responsible for the band's epic opus This is The Sea. The 1985 album contained the ageless The Whole of The Moon.

A music paper article that year stirred my interest in the up-coming but relatively little-known group. The writer commented on the possibility that Scott and Wallenger might be the Lennon-McCartney of the 1980s. I bought This is The Sea and the single The Whole of The Moon. 

Despite The Whole of The Moon becoming a radio staple and regarded as one of the defining tracks of the decade, on its initial release it stalled at No.25 in the UK charts. This was possibly due to the group's refusal to mime to the track on Top of The Pops. (The song became a major success when re-released in 1991 after it was used on a TV advert).

In October 1985, I forked out £2.50 to see the group at Leicester Polytechnic. I wasn't disappointed. The energy and musicianship was unquestionable. The venue was jumping and I'd taken along my first SLR camera to capture the scene, holding it aloft - like the crazy photographer in Apocalypse Now - to take ambient-lit shots above the heads of the jostling, swaying audience.

On stage were Scott, Thistlewaite (Leicestershire-born, so a local lad) and Wallenger. They were augmented by fiddle player Steve Wickham who, alongside Scott, became a mainstay of the group for most of the subsequent four decades. Wallenger certainly looked the part wearing coloured Lennon-esque grandad glasses. His backing vocals and keyboard talent were clear; listen to the latter stages of The Whole of The Moon to appreciate the impact his synth bass has on the crescendoing classic.

But even in the excitement of that gig Wallenger seemed distracted in the moment, in a way that the others in the group weren't. Although not known at the time, it was to be his last but one UK appearance with The Waterboys. He departed the group before the tour concluded.

The reason for the split, reportedly, was Wallenger's realisation that his musical ambition would bring him into conflict with the group's leader Scott. So much then for that hint at a Lennon-McCartney styled partnership. But would Scott and Wallenger fade without the input of the other, or would one emerge as the leading talent? 

Initially, I kept my eyes on both, buying Wallenger's first post-Waterboys record, the single Ship of Fools. It was a stunner. He'd formed the group World Party (incidentally, the same name as a song on the album This is The Sea). Ship of Fools was a poppy but poignant lament at the state of the world; a song that rings as true today as it did in the mid-80s.

It became apparent that Wallenger had a striking ability to craft meaningful lyrics and pare them with winningly harmonious pop music; music that leant towards joyfulness. That was the case with the track Put the Message in the Box, a song I defy anyone to listen to and not feel their mood lift.

As things turned out, I tracked the musical output of The Waterboys more closely than World Party. In the wake of losing Wallenger, The Waterboys' musical direction shifted to create the folk-orientated masterpiece albums Fisherman's Blues and Room To Roam. Experimentation with other sounds and genres have kept them sounding fresh to this day.

Meanwhile, Wallenger's musical furrow with World Party brought a string of successful albums and a top 20 single. He also worked with Sinead O'Conner. A cover version of the Wallenger-penned She's The One was taken to number one by Robbie Williams.

In 2001, Wallenger suffered a brain aneurysm. However, he returned to making music and performing five years later.

The collaboration of Wallenger and Scott on two Waterboys albums gave a tantalising glimpse of what might have been had they formed a lasting working partnership. However, their separate paths mean we have two distinct and very rich musical careers to enjoy.

Reacting to the passing of Wallenger, Scott posted the following on X: "Travel well my old friend. You are one of the finest musicians I've ever known."

A masterpiece of music: Joshua Tree

Masterpiece: Joshua Tree was a career defining album for U2

Across my collection of music, which stretches to a few hundred singles and albums, there is only one item by U2. But it is also a recording that I constantly return to. It is the most satisfyingly complete album of the past 40 years.

Joshua Tree was released in 1987, and I was drawn to it through familiarity of its radio-friendly hit songs, With or Without You, I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, and Where The Streets Have No Name.

The record became part of my life that year and the next, when it was one of three cassettes I carried in my backpack as I set off for a one-year adventure in Australia (the other two cassettes were Suzanne Vega's Solitude Standing, and Robyn Hitchcock's Fegmania).

And so Joshua Tree burnt a place in my psyche as it was played in heavy rotation on my Sony Walkman.

Now, some 35 years on, it continues to be the post-1985 album I can most enjoyably listen to all the way through. Experiencing it through quality headphones allows the music to best work its lulling magic.

Of its 11 tracks the only one I'm ever tempted to skip is Bullet The Blue Sky, which is weaker than the ten shining gems around it.

This masterpiece album has a continuity of atmosphere, musical prowess and songwriting excellence that elevates it above almost anything else that has come and gone in the past four decades of popular music.

U2 deserve full praise for this career defining peak. There was also an important role for the late Kirsty MacColl, who although uncredited on the album, chose the running order that the songs appear in, sculpting the record's faultless flowing musical path.

Joshua Tree captures a moment in time, a mid/late 1980s mood undimmed by the passage of time.

There is only one U2 appearance in my collection, but through Joshua Tree it is a starring one.

Norah Jones connects in disconnected times

Norah Jones: Lifting spirits in uncertain times

There is a calm feeling of connectedness when watching Norah Jones' video updates on YouTube.

In what appears to be her home, she sits alone and plays her songs, with her immediate audience no more than a self-operated camera.

Like most of us, she is handling this world where we are disconnected from all that we previously knew and took for granted.

Yet even in separation, we can connect. Norah does so by playing songs, some that have been suggested to her online, others chosen by herself.

At the end of an evening I unwind listening to her solo versions and feeling empathy with the solace she finds herself in, we find ourselves in, and where she manages to connect in a creative and unconditional way. She is one of many artists who have found a way to share their talents freely with the world in these uncertain times. It is one of the positives that has come out of the pandemic experience.

Her version of Sunrise, one of her earliest songs, I particularly like.

Also, a video of four songs I'd previously never heard before is a favourite way to end the evening before turning in. The songs begin with the poignant You Are Not Alone, followed by Until The End, Don't Know What It Means, and What a Difference a Day Makes. Her voice and musicianship is a treat, and even when she finds herself at a loss to play a tricky or half-forgotten part, she shows her human fallibility in good nature.

Thank you, and keep lifting our spirts, Norah.

VIDEO:Norah Jones sings four songs on November 12, 2020

The Petersens family band together

Lockdown uplift: The Petersens have been producing musical
 moments to delight a growing following on YouTube

Whatever else might be going on at YouTube, one thing's for sure - the algorithms are getting smarter and more refined. How else would I have come across a stunningly impressive family unit playing a delightful bluegrass-styled version of John Denver's Take Me Home, Country Roads.

As I have mentioned in a previous post, the popular video site is now one of the best conduits for music discovery - old or new. And so it proved again as I whittled away an evening jumping from song to song and dreaming of future days when coronavirus restrictions are done and it is possible to once more venture to live shows.

The evening was drawing to a close and I decided to listen to Denver's classic, only for YouTube to suggest I first check out The Petersens' 2020 version. The who?

I took a chance and clicked on the video - and within seconds was blown away.

The Petersens are a family band. On stage they consist of three sisters, a brother, their mother, and a close friend. They play originals and cover versions with the genres of country music and bluegrass well represented, but also a sprinkling of pop and even an Irish jig.

It is stripped-back acoustics played on a less common set of instruments  The ensemble features a fiddle, double bass, mandolin, guitar, banjo and dobro. Okay, perhaps not so unusual for a group with bluegrass roots, but certainly a departure on tunes such as Fields of Gold, The Scientist, Bohemian Rhapsody and You're Still The One.

Now, back to the Take Me Home, Country Roads video. The lead vocals were handled by Katie Petersen, the eldest of the siblings. There was a pitch-perfect opening, later accompanied by backing from sister Julianne and brother Matt, and it just got better and better. 

The quartet of siblings each play an instrument, and the arrangements are completed by the double bass of mother Karen, and stylish dobro from Emmett Franz.

On this song and in other videos The Petersens achieve a refreshing melodious and harmonic sound. There is youthful energy and a depth of feeling, a reminder of the joy of live music.

The band ventured onto YouTube only last year. It was a fortuitous decision as they have expanded their reach and brought joy to tens of thousands with songs, videos and live streams during this year's extensive lockdowns.

The backstory to the band is this: the Petersens moved around a lot as dad was a member of the air force. Looking for ways to keep the family bonded, they attended a bluegrass festival and saw other families playing together - the shared musical endeavour a focus and agent for solid 'togetherness'. The Petersens, who are now based in Branson, Missouri, decided to do the same.

Singing duties are shared around, with the Petersen siblings prominent. Katie, Ellen and Matt, and dobro player Emmett are strong and tuneful. Youngest sibling Julianne has a gentler style that at times features an unusual but delightful inflection in her vocal register. In fleeting moments, such as on Fields of Gold, it is reminiscent of the late Dolores O'Riordan.

The lack of electrified or amplified instrumentation adds to the sweet pleasure of the music. All six members are competent players of their chosen instruments. Above all a tight bond and a glow of happiness surrounds the band, reflected in their infectious smiles.

In these testing times The Petersens are a wonderful example of how uplifting music can be for the spirit. The Petersens have a website at https://www.petersenband.com/

Video of The Petersens performing Take Me Home, Country Roads:

Video of The Petersens performing Fields of Gold:

Virtual stars: Go-Go's still got the beat

Still got the beat: The Go-Go's performed 'virtually' one of their 
hits from the early 1980s on The Today Show last week

They were one of the seminal US bands of the early to mid-1980s, and broke ground as an all-women group who wrote their own songs, played their own instruments and had massive commercial success.

The Go-Go's star shone bright and furious for a few years in the first half of the '80s, but the band has continued to regroup throughout the past four decades, and their early hits have remained memorable and fresh.

The full classic line-up returned two years ago when bassist Kathy Valentine resumed her role after a five-year absence.

And not even the Covid-19 pandemic has been able to keep them down. They've managed to perform songs "virtually" by hooking up online from their homes and gardens - and the results are a masterclass in rocking pop that transcends the passage of four decades.

Some would argue The Go-Go's contribution to popular music has been overlooked. It's certainly a mystery why they've not been inducted into the Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame. 

At their best it was always been about catchy, upbeat songs played in a rocking style. Last week, they performed a virtual version of We Got The Beat on The Today Show in the US. 

How many other groups, who had their heyday almost 40 years ago, can knock out performances like this even when the band members are miles apart? You go Go-Go's.

VIDEO: The Go-Go's perform We Got The Beat virtually on The Today Show

A taxi ride with The Stranglers' Dave Greenfield

Dave Greenfield: at the heart of The Stranglers' sound
(Photograph by Stranglers French Forum)

Thirty-four summers ago, Dave Greenfield climbed into the back of a former London taxi for a short ride to a disused quarry lake in Cambridgeshire. The man at the heart of The Stranglers' sound carried a shoulder travel bag - an ever-present accessory, the contents of which followers of the band have forever guessed at.

It was a tight squeeze in the taxi. Greenfield rested his enigmatic bag on his lap. I gazed at the bag and wondered if perhaps it contained one of his many pet rats, the rodent synonymous with the band since their debut album Rattus Norvegicus nine years earlier.

But no question was asked. What else was a teenager, awed by the presence and aura of mystique of the musical mistro to do? Besides, there was work at hand to build and test a bathtub boat, an enterprise led by fellow Stranglers member Jean-Jacques Burnel. That pursuit would culminate at the World Bathtub Racing Championships in the south of France later that summer. That was why I was there. Greenfield, who lived nearby, had put in a surprise appearance to observe and lend support.

The taxi ride lasted only a couple of minutes, and then we piled out and set to work on the Ravenlunatic bathtub boat. Greenfield watched from the grassy bank.

I thought back to that day when, a week ago, news broke that Greenfield had died at 71, having contracted Covid-19 while in hospital. A few months earlier he had completed a tour of Australia and New Zealand with The Stranglers.

He was the keyboard player and an occasional vocalist. Along with Hugh Cornwell, Jet Black, and the aforementioned Burnel, he made up the classic original line-up of The Stranglers that was responsible for memorable hits in the Seventies and Eighties, such as No More Heroes, Peaches, Strange Little Girl, Always the Sun, and Golden Brown. Indeed, it was Greenfield who was central in creating the latter. He had continually offered up the waltztime tune at rehearsals only for it to be rejected, until the day came that it was used as the framework for the No.2 chart hit that was the band's greatest success.

Greenfield's distinctive keyboard playing and the sound of Burnel's bass are arguably the defining motif of the band through their career that now spans 46 years.

A year before the taxi ride, The Stranglers played a concert at the Music Hall in Utrecht, Netherlands. In the hours leading up to the concert, I stood at the entrance to the locked venue, listening to the band's soundcheck echo through the empty corridors and halls within. An instrumental run-through of the track Let Me Down Easy - a touching lament on life and death - was haunting and beautiful that early evening, accentuating the keyboard skills of Greenfield.

The Stranglers' music has been part of my life for more than 42 years. I've seen them more than 20 times in concert, across four decades. My first piece of printed journalism was a concert review of their Brixton Academy show in 1989, which helped land me a newspaper staff job the following year.

In September 2001, a three-day Stranglers Convention was held, with the band and many of their supporters taking over Pontins Leisure Centre at Brean Down, Somerset, for a weekend of live shows, quizzes, Q&As, and a five-a-side football contest.
On the first evening, my best pal Rob and I walked into the campus restaurant/bar, The Queen Victoria, and saw Greenfield sitting at a table near the door. Much has been written about his approachable nature, and that evening he was happily engaged in a group conversation around drinks with some fans. We decided to head elsewhere where we later renewed our "bathtub race team" friendship with Burnel. We'd hoped to speak with Greenfield on the way out, but by then he had gone.

Beyond those two brief moments - in the taxi, and at Pontins - my memories of Greenfield are all from the many shows I attended - including the London Roundhouse in 2007 when Greenfield's keyboards malfunctioned, causing the band to restart four times - including a complete relaunch of the gig that was at that stage more than half-an-hour into the set.

Greenfield shone on so many of The Stranglers' finest work, memorably on Down in the Sewer, Genetix, Waltzinblack and their cover of Walk on By.

The Stranglers' career can be sliced into three distinct eras, defined by the coming and going of lead singers Cornwell, Paul Roberts and incumbent Baz Warne. Each era came with its own idiosyncrasies, nostalgia and memories. But through them all Greenfield, Burnel and Black were the group's mainstays. Ill health forced Black to step away from all touring about five years ago.

Life can be said to be like a taxi ride. We are passengers, getting on and off at different points, not too sure where it started or where it is going. But the things we love, the friends, the music, the experiences; they are all part of the ride.
A quote attributed to John Lennon goes: "I'm not afraid of death because I don't believe in it. It's just getting out of one car, and into another."

Dave Greenfield has now left the taxi.
Fond adieu, Dave. Fly straight.

Online video tribute to Dave Greenfield (music Golden Brown):

Music from the '80s still rules at airports

That 1980s vibe: Hollywood-Burbank 'Bob Hope' Airport is among
the airports where music from the Eighties holds sway

At airports I tend to notice the background music (or muzak) that is being piped through the sound system. Increasingly, those ambient sounds are songs from the 1980s, with perhaps the odd one or two from the decades either side of the Eighties.

So what gives? Why does music from the 1980s hold sway in airport departure terminals. What is it about that era that continues to see its songs given preference in such settings?

It could be that many of the people passing through the terminal will identify with the music they personally experienced earlier in their lives. But that theory only holds true for so many travellers, there are plenty of others using the airports who belong to a generation untouched by the Eighties.

I say it has to do with the clarity, simplicity and feel-good combination of the songs. That is what those providing the background music are seeking to provide travellers -  unobtrusive tunes that float around on the periphery of most people's hearing. In addition, for some folk the songs will bring a touch of reminiscence for times past and happy memories.

As a lover of music I enjoy tuning-in to any background melodies. At airports I have particularly noticed the 1980s musical playlists at Hollywood-Burbank 'Bob Hope' Airport, JFK International Airport in New York, and Boston Logan International Airport.

It's not only airports; shopping malls are another venue that often delve into the tunes from the Eighties. What does this say about music? Were the 1980s truly the peak years for timeless, enjoyable mood and ear-friendly music?

Who knows, but I like it.

Ballad from Haim has timeless quality

Modern classic: Alana Haim takes centre stage for the final verse of the
song Halleljuh, flanked by her older sisters Danielle and Este

If there's one song from 2019 that will be remembered long after the curtain falls on New Year's Eve, it must surely be the newly-released lilting ballad from Haim.

Alana Haim begins the third and final verse of Hallelujah with these poignant words: "I had a best friend but she has come to pass, one I wish I could see now."

It is a song that evokes the style of Simon & Garfunkel, and Fleetwood Mac. However, it carries a charm and resonance of its own and the hallmarks of the timeless classic it is likely to become.

Musically, the stripped-down song is mostly confined to the acoustic guitar picking of Danielle Haim, who also does the largest portion of the singing, although the third and eldest of the Haim sisters, Este, delivers the second verse.

It is the blend of clean harmonies, clear voices and acoustic treatment that so effectively creates this moving ballad. Alana's heartfelt lyrics and the mood of the song are unencumbered by any distractions.

I'll say no more about the song, because it is something that will hold different meanings for each listener, and it springs from a personal story from Alana's life, which she has shared on social media. I have included a link and a copy of the story - in her own words - at the bottom of this blog post.

However, I recommend that before delving into the song's background you listen to it fresh, and let your own thoughts be moved by the mood and sentiments.

Enjoy also this remarkable video, made by talented and multi-Oscar nominated filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson. I love the closing scene where Danielle walks from the cinema, with Este in the ticket sales box, and Alana fixes the signage above.

The video for Haim's Hallelujah:


Below is the tweet from Haim (pronounced HY-im), written by Alana, and including her telling of the background to the song and the loss of her best friend.

As I previously mentioned, the song has such graceful power I recommend listening to it first, and possibly many times over, before reading on to learn the genesis of the lyrics in Alana's own words.

We have a song called hallelujah coming out on Monday. It’s a song about family, love, loss, and being thankful for it all. It’s hard to talk about my verse in the song but I wanted to open up about it so here i go... pic.twitter.com/0KqdNx7syq

— HAIM (@HAIMtheband) November 16, 2019

For ease of reading, here are Alana's words from the twitter images:

It’s a song about family, love, loss, and being thankful for it all. It’s hard to talk about my verse in the song but I wanted to open up about it so here i go…
I went through a really dark time when I was 20. I woke up on a hazy October morning to find out that my best friend, Sammi Kane Kraft, had passed away in a tragic car accident. It was a loss that changed my life forever.
Sammi was my everything, and coming to terms with the fact that she wasn’t here, that I couldn’t call her, I couldn’t hug her, I would never see her bright smile and sparkling eyes ever again broke me.
It’s strange but I started thinking about all the milestones in my life that she would never be a part of – like us wanting to celebrate our 21st birthdays in Vegas, or planning all the festivals we wanted to go to around the world, or knowing that when I walk down the aisle at some point she won’t be standing next to me as my maid of honor.
I had always wanted to pay tribute to her in some way and I could never put how important she was into words. It felt like there were no words in the dictionary to encapsulate how special she was. Losing her put a lot of things in to perspective for me. I was so lucky to have my sisters at this time in my life.
There was a point where they didn’t know what to do or say or how to help and them just being there as a shoulder to cry on or as an ear to talk to got me to slowly recover. I’m not the same, I’ll never be the same. The me before took love, friends and family for granted. Now there won’t be a day that goes by where I don’t tell everyone I love how special they are to me.
Though I miss her everyday I know she’s still here sending me little messages, little signs everywhere I go. I always look up and go I hear ya Sammi Sam! Love love love love love you too

No need to cuss, Del Rey's album elevates

Supersized: Lana Del Rey appears as a giant in the video for Doin' Time.
The video is part homage to Attack of the 50ft Woman.

Don't go looking for wall-to-wall sweetness and light on Lana Del Rey's latest album, because you won't find it.

Yes, she is one of the most talented and significant singer-songwriters of her generation, and her star continues to rise with increasingly accomplished work. She's written and recorded achingly beautiful songs, some are on her latest release - one of the best albums of the year. And I will speak about these in a moment.

However, on first listening to Norman F***** Rockwell, which was released in September, I felt she'd overplayed the cussing. The title track is one of five from 14 that contain choice language. That's excessive in a world where the impact of f-bombs has been hugely diluted through overuse.

Is cussing a sign of the times? I was in an airport terminal bookstore recently and encountered multiple shelves of new releases featuring bold titles yelling things like "Get Your S*** Together" and "Stop F****** up in Life." As always, I studiously ignored them.

But back to Del Rey. On repeated listens I've come to enjoy all the tracks on NFR (as it was craftily titled in the store where I bought it). However, she would have been better served limiting the cuss-word impact. The track where the strong language works best is Hope is a Dangerous Thing for a Woman Like Me to Have - but I Have It, which includes a nod to Sylvia Plath. The mood and content is enhanced by the fearless expression of the lyrics.

Now for the other standout songs to which I alluded. The bulk are in the second-half of the album, although earlier on is Doin' Time, a rare cover version. It suits Del Rey's treatment, and presents her in a switched-up tempo and vocalisation that breaks away from much of the surrounding songs. An imaginative accompanying video for the song pays homage to the cult 1950s movie Attack of the 50ft Woman, and features a giant Del Rey walking through the streets of Los Angeles.

California is a song of relationship and longing, and an example of Del Rey's ability to evoke a sense of place and time, while The Next Best American Record is dreamy and timeless, with sound motifs that harken to the delightfully elegant Love from 2017's Lust for Life.

Another interesting song is Happiness is a Butterfly. You try to catch happiness, but like a butterfly it can elude.

But the best track of the album, that would be The Greatest. It has a haunting, melancholy appeal. The subdued feel nails the sentiments of lyrics such as: the culture is lit ... if this is it, I'm signing off ... the greatest loss of them all. The video for this track is also remarkable.

Norman F***** Rockwell is a new high point for Del Rey, with plenty to elevate the spirit. That said, I sense her best is yet to come.

Video of The Greatest:

Tiffany is on song revisiting '80s hit

Joy reflected: Tiffany has re-recorded  I Think We're Alone Now,
which was a worldwide hit for her as a teenager 32 years ago

From the slightly unruly hair, to the worn and ripped denim jacket, Tiffany blends in with those around her as she strolls through the sand and along the promenade at Venice Beach, California.

Passersby go about their business seemingly unaware that in their midst is the former teenage pop star who recorded one of the most recognisable songs of the 1980s.

It is more than 30 years since she first shone. Now she is back with a re-recording of her smash hit, I Think We're Alone Now. The accompanying video shows her walking around Venice Beach and other parts of Los Angeles, and in England singing at the recording studio of The Kinks' Ray Davies.

The song, a bubblegum pop hit in 1987, is instantly recognisable to the older generation and even to some who were born later and have come across it in other places, such as in the 2012 movie Ted.

I Think We're Alone Now was written by Ritchie Cordell and dates back to 1967, but Tiffany's cover version is its most successful iteration.

Tiffany was very much part of the spirit of the second half of the '80s, and with the new recording and video she continues to exude positive vibes. The feelings are the same, but her voice is stronger.

Denim was her signature clothing back in the '80s and the video recalls this, although pointedly exhibiting the passage of time as she no longer wears crisp, fresh denim, instead it is a faded jacket complete with rips and frayed collar.

Tiffany appears happy and  comfortable revisiting the song from her youth. It is almost like a statement to old friends who have travelled through those same years and decades: "How are you doing? Hasn't life been a blast!"

Not only does it reflect the passage of time, this new version proves how this simple song has staying power.

Video: Tiffany's 2019 version of I Think We're Alone Now

Tea towel immortality at a village hall far away

Down to earth: Dougie MacLean, on stage at
Clunie village hall (Photographs by Heather Brain)

You know you're doing well when they put one of your songs on a tea towel, Dougie MacLean told the audience. We and the other 80 or so souls who sat on the wooden foldaway chairs in the tiny village hall, had travelled through unlit countryside and foothills to reach the remote venue on a single-track road in deepest Perthshire.

Our reward was an evening of music and tales from MacLean, who happily mingled with the audience during the half-time interval when tea, coffee, biscuits and bowls of crisps were laid on for free. During the break, MacLean also shared "nips" from a large bottle of The Gael gin - named after another of his tunes - which included the musical notation of the composition on the inside of the label, where it was magnified through the bottle's glass and its rapidly diminishing contents.

Clunie village hall is more often used for "knit and natter" evenings than staging concerts - but there was a good reason why MacLean, who was awarded the OBE in 2011 for services to music and charity, had chosen such an out-of-the-way location to sing his songs.

Earlier we had waited outside for the doors to open. It had been a day of clear blue sky, but as the long dusk settled so the temperature slid to the chill expected in March among foothills leading to the southern fringe of Scotland's Cairngorms mountain range. The thinest reminder of day clung precariously above us, a deepening blue turning to night; while the countryside silhouetted against the remnants of dusky light was all but swallowed by darkness.

Family assist: the stage decorations were
prepared by MacLean's grandchildren

Scattered on one horizon were distant lights of a few homes and farms. The final calls of birds settling in their nests echoed in the still air. The arrival of darkness in this remote spot leaves an outsider slightly disorientated, but not so for a local. MacLean's life and the lives of his parents and grandparents are deeply entwined with this place and the surrounding landscape.

As we were to learn from anecdotes shared between songs, as a boy MacLean had lived in a small house next to the village hall, and it had featured in his youth. He now owns and lives in a former village school a few miles away, where he has his own recording studio. Earlier generations of his family had had been taught at the school.

The landscape that stretches out from the village hall resonates with stories and meaning for MacLean and his family, who have maintained strong ties to the locale. Indeed, members of MacLean's family, including his wife, son and grandchildren, all pitched in to prepare the stage for the evening show, operate the mixing desk, serve the refreshments and look after the small merchandise stall at the door. His mother, now in her eighties, was among the audience.

It was at the entrance to the hall, next to a selection of CDs and DVDs, where a few tea towels emblazened with the lyrics to Caledonia were to be found. Caledonia is a spirited and beautifully uplifting ode that some have suggested is a future national anthem. It wrestles with The Gael as MacLean's most successful composition. The latter is an instrumental, a version of which took off a few years after MacLean's original, when it was prominently featured in the movie soundtrack of The Last of the Mohicans.

Evening to remember: MacLean
met all the audience during the interval

During the first half of the evening, MacLean presented us with a trove of stories and songs from places near and far; from Clunie village hall to Alaska and Australia. His instruments included a didgeridoo, and fiddle, but mostly acoustic guitar. The Gael was played on fiddle, augmented by an instrumental backing track created by MacLean's son. After the refreshment break, MacLean scanned through the request notes he'd encouraged and played, among others, the haunting Broken Wings, and the moving This Love Will Carry.

MacLean has travelled the world and performed on stages large and small, but he has retained a down to earth approach. To see him on a tiny stage in an intimate and personal setting, and share a moment of his time at the interval break as he made a point of meeting every member of the audience, made it an evening to treasure.

Before we knew it, almost three hours had passed and it was time to leave. After we ventured from the village hall into the night, the songs and voice of MacLean, and the love he showed to all, carried us safely home.

Video: Dougie MacLean sings Caledonia at his studio.

Song discovery that was 'outta time'

Coincidental surprise: a scene from the video of Oasis' I'm Outta Time

It was something I wasn't expecting - an Oasis song and video from 11 years ago that I'd never encountered.

And the surprise had a layer of coincidence as the song's title, I'm Outta Time, is remarkably close to the title of my novel in progress, Alice Out Of Time.

The song is an outlier for Oasis,  if anything in their catalogue can be described as such. It was the band's penultimate single, and only their debut release peaked at a lower position in the UK charts. It is also one of only two Oasis hits penned by Liam Gallagher, rather than his brother Noel. Liam features in the video, alone.

It is a touching, almost heartbreaking ballad, that in hindsight foreshadows the final days of the band. A year after its release in 2008, Oasis were no more.

When I say I had not previously encountered the song or video, there is a caveat. It is true I'd never seen the video before, but it turns out I must have heard the song at least once. That was at Madison Square Gardens, in December 2008, at what was the seventh and last occasion I saw Oasis in concert.

I'd followed the band's career since their first success in 1994, going to concerts - including the Maine Road and Knebworth extravaganzas of 1996. When I left the UK in 2005, I owned five of their six studio albums. It was at this point I lost touch with their new music. I was no longer plugged in to mainstream TV and radio, and remained mostly unaware of the new songs that made up what was to be their final album, Dig Out Your Soul.

However, when they toured to promote that album in late 2008, I headed out on a cold, wintery evening in New York to hear again the great songs I knew from their back catalogue.

Work in progress: the Alice novel is now at the 'white cover working edition' stage

Last weekend, on discovering the video of I'm Outta Time, and wondering how such a gem had escaped my notice for 11 years, I did an online check of the setlist for that night in New York and discovered the song had been played, sandwiched between two of Oasis' bigger hits, The Importance of Being Idle, and Wonderwall.

It had been placed in the final quarter of the set, surrounded by the searing anthems that defined Oasis' success. As such, it had been lost to me on first hearing. But now, in isolation, the beauty of its understated nature was striking, as was the dreamy imagery of the video, with nature to the fore, including a signature motif from  Alice Out Of Time. As I continue work on the novel, which is at the "printed white cover edition" stage, I feel the song makes a fitting accompaniment.

Also, listen carefully and you will spot a sprinkling of micro-musical homages to The Beatles and John Lennon. There is a final surprise at the end. The video concludes with a record playing on a turntable, and the voice of Lennon. Asked if he missed England, having lived in New York for almost a decade, Lennon says: "As Churchill said, it's an Englishman's inalienable right to live where the hell he likes ... I said, what do you think, it's going to vanish? It's not going to be there when I get back?"
It is a poignant recording; two days later Lennon was shot outside his Manhattan apartment.

• The official video to Oasis' I'm Outta Time:

Video adds fresh spring to Harrison classic

Celebration of life: forty-four years after the song was recorded,
and 13 years after he died, an official video was made to accompany
George Harrison's What is Life. It captures the song's joy and freshness

When I came across the official video for George Harrison's What is Life, I was surprised and delighted; surprised because the 48-year-old track was never released as a single in the UK, therefore the existence of a video seemed unlikely, and delighted by the joy and freshness it exuded.

Harrison died in 2001. However, the video was made just four years ago. I'm sure it would have met with his approval. Before explaining how the video came to be made, here is some background on the jaunty track.

It was recorded around the time The Beatles broke up, and featured as the B-side of Harrison's first solo single My Sweet Lord, released in 1970 in the UK. It subsequently became a hit in its own right in many other countries in 1971 and went top ten in the US, making Harrison the first Beatle to achieve two top ten solo hits on the Billboard chart. It is a breezy, upbeat song about love and life that fits closely with the era of The Beatles and is dominated by a catchy chorus and masterful guitar-playing from Harrison and guest Eric Clapton.

While Harrison's version was never released as an A-side in the UK, a cover version by Olivia Newton-John made it into the UK top 20 in 1972.

So how did this video to accompany Harrison's song come to be made? In 2014, a retrospective of his solo music from his time with Apple Records was released. At the same time a competition was held for filmmakers to produce a promotional video to go with What is Life. Harrison's widow Olivia Harrison and son Dhani Harrison judged the entries and picked this video, directed by Brandon Moore, as the winner of the $5,000 first prize.

It was filmed in a neighbourhood of San Francisco. The carefree, youthful energy of the song is finely captured by two young ballet performers, Emma Rubinowitz and Esteban Hernandez. The dancing is not point-perfect, but that's why it feels so real and true to life as it celebrates free expression, imperfections-and-all, guided by joy. The transience of life and a tinge of otherworldliness are evoked as Rubinowitz twirls and bounds her way through rows upon rows of markers in the San Francisco National Cemetery as the lyrics ponder "what is my life?"

This visual imaging of a song that is almost half-a-century old adds to the appreciation of how well What is Life has stood the test of time. As to the question, what is life? Well, I can't say for sure, but if it's anything like the feeling of joy, verve and boundless possibilities that emanate from this video, I'll take it.

Lake Street Dive make a splash

Lake Street Dive: An unusual musical combination that delights

When I stumbled across Lake Street Dive, I did not expect them to become my favourite music discovery of the year. Indeed, I'd only clicked onto their video because I was intrigued at the prospect of such a hodge-podge of musicians attempting A-ha's Take On Me.

Before I go on, rewind to last summer when I heard the strains of Lana Del Rey floating from a beach bar music system. I'd never heard of her and had to ask someone at the bar who the mystery singer was (as I detailed in this post). That was my introduction to Del Rey's fresh "real" music. Of course, I was many years late to the party, but Del Ray was my big personal music discovery of 2017.

So back to Lake Street Dive. I came across them not by listening to music at a beach bar, but through a more traditional route - on YouTube, the world's omnipresent portal for discovering music. 

The website uses data algorithms to suggest videos based on your history of viewing choices. For some reason, it decided that I'd enjoy Lake Street Dive's cover version of A-ha's Take On Me. I was going to ignore the offer, but the thumbnail picture on the video showed an unlikely combo on a tiny stage that I guessed was in a small town bar hosting an open-mic night.
My curiosity was piqued; what would Take On Me sound like when tackled by a nutty combination of a trumpeter, double bassist, female vocalist, and a drummer wearing a rock band-style bandana?

The video started and in the opening moments a tempo change on the drums did nothing to alter my belief this was a plucky amateur night at some bar.
But then the song took shape and my early suspicion that they were making it up as they went along, vanished. 

It was much more than a passable rendition. The soaring lead vocals of Rachael Price delivering more depth than the original. And while the band had a quirky choice of musical instruments, they all played with consummate ease and professional finesse. In this instance, they were also augmented by a guest keyboardist. The vocal harmonies were the icing on the cake. I was impressed but still thought it was simply an unusual bar band.

Music moment: Lake Street Dive perform Annie Lennox's
Walking on Broken Glass - a rendition that confirmed to me their talent

I decided to check for any other cover versions they had done and found their rendition of Annie Lennox's Walking On Broken Glass. Bridget Kearney's double bass playing was sublime, reaching notes I've never seen attempted by others on the instrument. Price added a new dimension to the song with her vocals, while the rest of the band was immaculate with harmonies and a group a cappella finale.

After hearing their version of The Kinks' Lola, I started searching the internet to see if they had an album of covers for sale. They didn't. But they had albums of original songs. The Brooklyn-based band has been enjoying growing national success in the US, particularly during the past six years, including Billboard chart action.

YouTube threw up a near two-hour songwriting masterclass the band gave to cohorts at Boston's New England Conservatory of Music, where they had met back in 2004. I hadn't intended to sit through the full two hours, but I did - drawn in by the subject matter, the clarity and articulation of their thoughts, and the truly democratic make-up of the band (they gave each other an equal share of the discussion). They explained some of the methods they use to compose and arrange songs.

In that video and in other online interviews, Lake Street Dive came alive as personalities - bold, inventive, and with a clear sense of fun. They are talented instrument players with a genuine love and deep knowledge of music styles. I took the plunge and listened to more of their originals, quickly favouring almost everything I heard. Use Me Up, Call Off Your Dogs, and this year's Good Kisser and I Can Change are now on my repeat playlist.

If you're looking for a fresh sound check out Lake Street Dive.

Respect to Lennon Bermuda singer Moniz

Energy and fun: Dennis Moniz at the 2012 recording and filming
of The Love Singers' version of All You Need Is Love.

Dennis Moniz, a featured singer on the Lennon Bermuda CD version of All You Need Is Love, has died at 66. He was one of the 11 named singers who shared lead vocal duties on the track; the ensemble was known as The Love Singers.

Mr Moniz was a well-known singer across Bermuda and performed with a number of groups, and at many venues during his long career. Tony Brannon, the organiser of the Lennon Bermuda project, referred to him as the Sammy Davis Jr of Bermuda.

Although I only had the briefest of encounters with Mr Moniz, I would say the 'Sammy Davis Jr' description was very apt. I met him when we were both doing chorus backing on The Love Singers' version of All You Need is Love, which was recorded in May 2012 ahead of the release of the Lennon Bermuda CD and the subsequent concert in September that year. The recording was done in a gallery room at Masterworks Museum of Bermuda Art, in the Botanical Gardens.

Infectious fun: Will Black, myself, Ronnie Lopes and Dennis Moniz
 during the filming of the All You Need is Love video

A video of the recording session was made under the supervision of director Lucinda Spurling, and it captures the effervescent energy and spirit of Mr Moniz. His smiling, jovial nature shone as brightly as his silky blue shirt. His presence, energy, and unusual headwear are my most abiding memory from that day. In the video, he is captured later singing a lead line as one of three singers sitting back to back - although he had switched to a white shirt that featured his name embroidered on the front. He had an infectious attitude of fun that lit up the room, and once experienced was hard to forget.

This year has seen the loss of two other Lennon Bermuda performers; Steve Easton, who sang Bless You, and international recording artist Roy Young, who appeared on stage with The Beatles during their Hamburg days, and sang Nowhere Man on Lennon Bermuda.

The joy all three gave to others through music lives on.

Here is The Love Singers video of All You Need is Love:

Love the song #5: When Heroes Go Down

Rock on: the minimalist, industrial-style setting for the video of
When Heroes Go Down perfectly reflected the tone of the song

It was difficult to restrict myself to a single song from Suzanne Vega's great catalogue to honour as the first to feature in this occasional 'Love the Song' series.

However, I've gone for one of her more unusual outings, When Heroes Go Down. It is probably the most out-and-out rocking number she has released. And at just under two minutes long, it is also one of the briefest slices of pop/rock.

It was the fourth and final single from the 99.9F album of 1992, which itself was a huge departure for Vega, breaking away from the folk-pop of her first three albums. The album featured industrial-sounding beats and percussion and some stark lyricism and vocals, and sent the American singer-songwriter into new territory. It was a bold step, and came two years after her famed song Tom's Diner had been sampled and repackaged by the British dance music duo DNA, sending it to the top of the charts.

The musical experimentation of 99.9F produced a host of memorable tracks, including the title song 99.9F, Blood Makes Noise, and In Liverpool.

What I love about When Heroes Go Down is its driving rock beat, the straightforward, powerful lyrics, Vega's assured vocals, and the way it manages to squeeze in a momentary change of pace, even in the rarified space of its 120 seconds entirety. In fact, my only complaint is that it is too short. I'd happily listen to another few minutes of this rocker.

Here is the official video for the song:

Tom Petty's many moments of brilliance

Modern classic: Tom Petty at Ventura Boulevard, San Fernando Valley, in
the 1989 video for Free Fallin'. The song mentioned many "Valley" locations

Tom Petty was one of the great modern singer songwriters of America. His output around the late 1980s and early 1990s was stunning, and it is this period that I most associate with his music.

Petty, 66, died in Santa Monica on Monday after a heart attack. Here are two personal vignettes relating to Petty and his music.

The catchy melodies and lyrics of his biggest hits, particularly the two I rate most highly, Learning to Fly and Free Fallin', were firmly etched in my mind by 1995 - the year I enrolled for a semester of study at a Los Angeles college in the San Fernando Valley.

The relevancy of that is Petty's own connection to "The Valley." For many years he lived in the neighbourhood of Encino, and some of his songs and videos show or reference places in the San Fernando Valley - the vast metropolitan sprawl that is separated from downtown Los Angeles by the Hollywood Hills.

On my twice daily route to college through the neighbourhood of Reseda, or anytime I travelled along Ventura Boulevard (which passed one block away from the college), I could not help but hear Free Fallin' playing my head. Reseda, Ventura Boulevard and nearby Mulholland are all mentioned in the song, which was only a few years old at that time. The song's lyrics created a degree of comforting familiarity with my immediate surroundings, even though I was 7,000 miles from home.

Watch for the UFO: Tom Petty in the classic video for Learning to Fly

Rewinding eight years to 1987, and an October evening just outside the city of Birmingham, England. I was at the National Exhibition Centre to see a sell-out concert at the immense indoor venue.

Of the three artists on the bill I was familiar with two; the headliner Bob Dylan and the opening act Roger McGuinn, the former lead singer and guitarist of The Byrds. Sandwiched between the two was a group I'd never heard of called Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. I was there to see Dylan. The fact that McGuinn was also on the bill was a bonus. And I figured if Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were touring with Dylan and had been given a higher billing than McGuinn, then they must be pretty good.

McGuinn was on form, although his short set barely allowed him time to play more than a few of the jangle pop hits that made The Byrds famous in the 1960s, one being a cover version of Dylan's Mr Tamborine Man. This contrasted with Dylan, who barely lit up the stage with his disconnected performance.

Which brings me to Petty. That evening I had no expectations and so the surprise turned out to be all the greater. He and his band gave a performance between McGuinn's set and Dylan's that turned out to be the most enjoyable of the night. The rock-pop songs soared with an energy that seemed to bounce off the walls. Petty was having the time of his life performing on the same stage as two of his musical idols, and he was doing all he could to share some of that zest and fun with everyone in the audience of 15,000 - and succeeding.

At the time, the songs I consider to be Petty's finest had yet to be recorded, but during the next few years he would release I Won't Back Down, featuring George Harrison and Ringo Starr (Starr was only in the the video), the aforementioned Learning to Fly and Free Fallin', and was a founding member of the supergroup The Traveling Wilburys, along with Dylan, Harrison, Roy Orbison and ELO's Jeff Lynne.

The Traveling Wilbury's two albums spawned hits such as Handle With Care and End of the Line. It is fitting that Petty became a founding member of that short-lived group filled with musical legends, because he came to the world of music first and foremost as a fan. Just before his eleventh birthday he shook hands with Elvis Presley, then two years later he watched the US television debut appearance of The Beatles, at which point he decided he wanted to pursue a career as a musician in a band. It wasn't until the late 1970s that Petty and the Heartbreakers secured a contract with a major record label, but they quickly rose to success and reached a creative pinnacle in the late 80s and early 90s.

Petty was on the cusp of his greatest success when I saw him in concert in 1987. In the years that immediately followed I watched out for his records, and that proved to be perfect timing to catch the richest treasures of his career. Many of his American rock-pop classics have endured for a quarter-century and will last much longer.

Farewell Mr Petty, and thank you for the music.

Below: The official videos for Free Fallin' and Learning to Fly.





Further reading: An interview with the girl from the Free Fallin' video (and what she is doing now), can be found on this blog

Lana Del Rey's 'Lust for Life'

Memorising songs: Lana Del Rey singing in the video for Love,
the opening track of her album Lust for Life

It is almost a decade since I last bought an album by an artist I'd never heard of before.

Towards the end of last month I purchased Lust for Life, by a singer whose name I had to double check.

I was sitting under a beach shade, interviewing an empath, when one of my ears tuned into the background music being played at the beach bar. I was focused on the interview, and what the empath had to say was fascinating - it resulted in an interesting article. But try as I might, the unusual song quietly playing in the background was also incessantly vying for a corner of my attention.

The tune was reminiscent of Radiohead's Creep, so much so that I thought it might be a cover version, yet the words were unfamiliar. There was a quality in the singing that drew me in. The song ended and I made a mental note to find out who it had been. After concluding my interview I strolled to the beach bar and asked about the track. The singer was Lana Del Rey - a name that meant nothing to me.

New music: Lana Del Rey on the cover of Lust for Life.

Living on an island and not being tuned into TV, radio or keeping up with many other cultural portals, I had to go and Google this mysterious (to me) singer. That's when I found out she was one of the most successful singers of the past five or six years.
Who knew? Everyone else, apparently.

The album playing at the beach was new and had only been released two weeks earlier. I found a video for the opening track on YouTube. Love was mesmorising, as was the video which had evident shades of M83's We Own the Sky. With my curiosity now further heightened, I bought Del Rey's Lust for Life.

With no previous exposure to her music I could only evaluate the album on what I found. I had no preconceived ideas; to me she was a new artist emerging from a void. The album is a refreshing and intriguing collection of songs and styles. The first three tracks, Love, Lust for Life, and 13 Beaches are standouts. The quality hardly slips, but as I got into the second half of the record the seam of gold broadened with ever more beautifully crafted and delivered songs, such as God Bless America - And All the Beautiful Women in It, Heroin, Change and Get Free (the song I heard at the beach).

Five of the tracks feature collaborations with the likes of Weeknd, A$AP Rocky, Playboi Carti, and Stevie Nicks. There is a mixture of styles and influences sprinkled in, particularly on the two tracks with A$AP Rocky. And then there is the timeless, poignant beauty of Tomorrow Never Came, a song co-written and performed with Sean Ono Lennon.

Del Rey's vocal delivery and lyricism is a refreshing break from usual. I'm thankful to have discovered Lust for Life. Someone remarked that empaths tune-in to the feelings and thoughts of the person they are speaking to. I'm not sure what the empath at the beach might have deduced as my attention was semi-diverted to the music drifting across the sand, but I suspect he might have wondered why he could sense so many musical notes dancing around my head.