“It Still Rings Completely True” — Rob Bonfiglio on The Over Under.


Rob Bonfiglio’s The Over Under has been out for a while now. I liked it immediately, but after listening to it for a few months, it has become one of those go-to records I return to when I need to recalibrate or reset. It’s the kind of album that reveals more of itself with time.

What makes it particularly striking is how personal it feels: Bonfiglio wrote, recorded and mixed the record largely on his own, following the songs that carried the most weight and trusting his instincts along the way. Months after its release, he remains remarkably close to the album and proud of how faithfully it captures what he wanted to say.

We spoke about the vulnerability of “Need You Know,” the sharper edge of “More Pure Than Gold,” the decision to make the record mostly by himself, and why connecting with listeners ultimately matters more than recognition.

How does The Over Under feel to you now that it has been out for a while and you’ve had some distance from making it?

I felt from the beginning that this record reached a lot deeper than my previous releases. I went into the recording process with maybe 20 or so tunes, and it became clear which ones carried the most gravity.

My recording and mixing process happened concurrently. I’d go on a hike or a drive and listen back to a day’s work to determine where to go next. It all added up to literally thousands of listens.

Even after completing the album, I can still listen through from beginning to end and feel a sense of cohesion. I can honestly say there are very few things I’d have done differently with this album. It still rings completely true to me. I’m really proud of the way it turned out.

“Need You Know” feels like the emotional heart of the album to me. It’s a beautiful, very vulnerable song. Do you remember where that song came from, and did you know while writing it that it could become such a special song on the record?

Thank you so much. “Vulnerable” is a great descriptive. My writing cycles happen in waves and usually bear five or six or more songs at a time. This came out of one of those batches. I don’t recall the initial inspiration beyond the riff that repeats throughout, which always had a Fleetwood Mac-ish vibe to me.

I do recall being satisfied with the simplicity of the form. The lyrics happened pretty quickly and seemed to really get to the point of how I was feeling.


“More Pure Than Gold” feels like the musical and lyrical opposite of “Need You Know” — it’s sharp, angry and quite political. What was your state of mind when you wrote that song? Was it something that came more from the heart, or more from the head?

Without expressly saying so, I think the sentiment of this song is pretty obvious. I like to think all good songs come from the heart, with the head to guide them along. Much of the lyrical content of this song came out in a free flow, and much still stands true, unfortunately.

You made The Over Under largely on your own, even though you have friends and family around you who are, to put it mildly, pop royalty and could probably have helped you make the record. What made you want to do this one by yourself?

I’m a textbook introvert. I really considered doing this album with a larger ensemble of players, but one thing led to another and I just ended up doing it all myself. It was easier to get from point A to point B quickly, and things just sort of snowballed from there. All creative decisions started and ended in my head.

That said, I did have a little help from my daughter Lola on “Blame This” and a great pedal steel player named Xandy Chelmis on “Fade Away.”

I’ve read some really nice reactions and reviews of The Over Under, and I’m sure you have too. Recognition must be nice, especially after putting so much of yourself into a record. Or is there something else that matters more to you when you look at how the album has been received?

I’m incredibly grateful for the kind words and genuine reactions to this record. Yes, recognition is important for sure, but maybe less so for the ego nudge and more for the acknowledgement of being able to share something that resonates on a human level.

Jason Mazzotta: Poor Man’s Time Travel

Jason Mazzotta makes the kind of pop music that feels immediately familiar and subtly strange at the same time. Warm, melodic and carefully constructed, yet with something pleasantly weird — and occasionally slightly unsettling — lurking beneath the surface. On his new album Jason To Jason, his roots in the golden age of ’60s and ’70s pop are unmistakable, but those familiar sounds are bent into something distinctly his own.

Jason To Jason is far from an exercise in nostalgia. Mazzotta seems less interested in recreating the past than in seeing where it might lead him — into his own peculiar pop universe, where obscure songwriters become international hits, Shindig! magazine inspires a song, and The Monkees might still be looking for something trippy for Micky to sing in episode eleven.

We spoke with Mazzotta about making Jason To Jason, the accidental origin of its title, his love of classic pop production, Number Four in Norway, and making music for the future with its roots firmly planted in the past.

Jason To Jason feels like a very personal record. How did the album come about, and when did you realize you had the beginnings of an album rather than just a collection of songs?

At the start, I was living in California, and the first session happened while visiting family in Connecticut. It was just a few songs with Brian Marchese on drums at Scott Amore’s InnerSpace Soundlabs, and then overdubs at my place. I ended up moving back east, and Brian and I popped back over to Scott’s more frequently. Once there were five or six numbers taking shape, it felt like we were making an album. Some of the songs certainly have personal references, but I also have Brill Building tendencies and can get into a mindset where The Monkees are looking for a trippy song for Micky to sing in episode eleven.

There’s obviously something playful about the title Jason To Jason. What’s behind it? Was the title there from the beginning, or did it come to you once the album had taken shape?

The title entered the picture during mixing. My nephew, George, who was about two and a half at the time, is responsible. He’s fascinated by vinyl records and is a Bowie fan. One day he was riffing on Station To Station and made a rhyme that stuck. Up until then, there were a few contenders that didn’t feel right. Jason Mazzotta is Number Four in Norway was one. There was another idea involving a “sandwich,” but I can’t remember now.

The album has a very distinctive ’60s/’70s pop character — the melodies, harmonies, arrangements and production all feel like they come from that world. Is that sound something that comes naturally to you, or do you consciously go looking for it when you make a record?

I try to live in the present and like a lot of contemporary music, but I certainly love ’60s and ’70s record production. And there’s shorthand when recording with others when you can reference The Beatles, The Stones, The Temptations, The Kinks, Nilsson, ABBA, Elton, etc. Might be more subconscious that I lean this way? Not sure. But making music for the future that has roots in the past is a kind of poor man’s time travel.

Number Four in Norway immediately caught my attention. Is the story behind the song a real story, and is the songwriter at the centre of it actually you? Yes or no — and if it isn’t, why was this a story you wanted to tell anyway?

Yes, I’m the obscure songwriter at the center of the story. They say writing songs about songs is lazy, but how often do songs reference themselves as becoming international hits? However, I don’t advise listeners to track the logic.

I first became aware of Jason To Jason through the review in Shindig! magazine, and then I heard May Song, where you sing about how much you like the magazine. What is it about Shindig! that resonates with you, and did you ever imagine you’d end up writing a song about loving a music magazine?

I’m a longtime Shindig! reader, but I remember seeing an issue for the first time at a train station. I couldn’t believe my luck that a magazine aligned so much with my taste and musical curiosity — it was almost like a mirage, seeing the cover on the rack. I just love their sensibility, the great features about acts that I love, and their commitment to spotlighting new or new-to-me music. I don’t know how unusual it is to write about a music magazine. Have you heard Robert Wyatt’s “Soup Song”? Now that’s subject matter to strive for.



Too Much Is the Point: The Cowboys on Captain Easy’s Downfall



There’s a glorious sense of excess running through Captain Easy’s Downfall, the new album by The Cowboys. Across 19 songs, the band brings together the extravagance of glam, the sharp melodic instincts of power pop and the restless experimentation of adventurous indie pop. It’s playful, unpredictable and occasionally chaotic, but beneath all that excess lies an impressive attention to melody, atmosphere and detail.

We spoke with The Cowboys’ Keith Harman about the band’s return, the creative process behind Captain Easy’s Downfall, embracing “too much,” and what might come next.

The Cowboys and Captain Easy’s Downfall

The Cowboys are a new band to me, so I’d love to start by going back a little. You’ve been doing this since 2013 — what has brought the band from where you started to where you are now with Captain Easy’s Downfall? And do you feel that you’re reaching a new audience with this record? I’m discovering The Cowboys through this album, and I’m wondering if you’re noticing that the record is opening the door to new listeners for you as well.

The chief element that has carried the band all these years is a combination of our friendship and my inability to stop writing songs. We never achieved any great success in our journey, so there is no demand or multi-album contract to fulfill. I wrote a large number of songs in a year or two and just asked the band if they felt it was time to get back together. They said yes, so we started working on a new album.

I wouldn’t say this new record has really opened any new doors or garnered many new listeners. I haven’t noticed that. But I think we are all very proud of this record and the work we were able to accomplish.

The creative process

When you started working on Captain Easy’s Downfall, was the excess itself part of the goal — 19 songs, all those layers, the unexpected turns and disruptions — or did it simply become a creative flow that kept giving you new ideas and you just kept following it? Or was it closer to the culmination of the sound the band has developed over the years?

It was definitely my goal to have an album of these more layered, technicolor songs. I didn’t expect the album to be 19 songs, and I didn’t anticipate Mark’s (guitarist, producer) long-gestating production being a part of the workflow. He kept adding and tinkering to great effect; he obsessed over the production.

As for the writing of the album, I was in a very good creative headspace at that time. I was tapping into a good flow and kept adding songs to the recording schedule. It was a nice experience.

Was there ever a moment when you thought, “Okay, this is too much,” or was “too much” actually the point?

There was definitely a point of “this is too much,” but that happens on almost every album. It was the point. There are moments on this record that can put me in a giggle fit. Just the music and arrangements, not even the lyrics.

When I listen to the album, I hear this kind of unique creative chaos — all these ideas, unexpected turns and disruptions — but at the same time, I hear an incredible amount of care underneath it. The sound, the atmosphere, the melodies and especially the lyrics all feel very deliberate. For me, that combination is actually what makes the album so exciting and ultimately such a great record. Was that something you were conscious of while making it — finding that balance between unique creative chaos and care? Or does the term “unique creative chaos” not resonate with you at all?

Unique creative chaos definitely resonates with me. It was always my goal to get there, but even on some of the wackier songs on this record (“Donzell’s Crystal Ball” or “Michelle Fleischmann,” for example), I followed my muse in regard to the writing and arrangement and never looked back.

Looking ahead

And finally, what does the rest of the year look like for The Cowboys? Are you hoping to take Captain Easy’s Downfall on the road, or are there already new ideas and projects taking shape?

We did a short tour of the American Midwest and East Coast in the summer of 2026 in support of Captain Easy’s Downfall, and it was a good time. I would like to do more touring next year, but it’s hard as the band is so spread out across different cities. I keep threatening a European tour, but it’s proven very difficult to make happen.

As for new recordings, it doesn’t seem likely that anything will happen anytime soon. I’ve got an album written that’s not very “Cowboys”-appropriate, and I’m trying to figure out what to do with it. The wish from the band seems to be not to recreate the creative approach of Captain Easy’s Downfall for whatever happens next. So it’s a mystery what happens next, even for me.

Radio Days: Still Chasing the Perfect Chorus


For more than two decades, Milan’s Radio Days have remained devoted to the timeless pleasures of Power Pop: sharp melodies, ringing guitars, big harmonies and choruses that refuse to leave your head. With their fifth album, Off The Record, arriving on September 4, the band sound as energized as ever, connecting their love of ’60s melody and late-’70s Power Pop with the renewed enthusiasm surrounding the genre today.

We caught up with Radio Days singer, guitarist and songwriter Dario Persi to talk about the making of Off The Record, how he knows when a song is really working, the band’s upcoming touring plans and why, after more than twenty years, the search for the perfect Power Pop song continues.

You’ve been making Power Pop for more than two decades now, and the sound you love is rooted very much in the late ’70s and early ’80s. What is it about that particular sound that has kept you inspired for so many years? Has your idea of what makes great Power Pop changed over time?

It’s true, time flies when you’re having fun! Haha!

Joking aside, we’ve always loved this music, and even though there have been some stylistic differences from record to record, we’ve kept playing it because it’s the music we love and the music we would want to listen to ourselves.

I think that, fundamentally, Power Pop is all about the songs. Without great songs, you can’t really go anywhere. So, for us, it’s about having a great, catchy but intelligent melody, some beautiful ’60s-style harmonies, and the energy and attitude of the late ’70s. That combination still feels perfect to us today.

How did Off The Record actually begin? At what point do you realize that you have enough new material to start thinking, “Okay, this is going to be a new Radio Days album”?

It was actually quite a planned and structured process. In mid-2023, we finished the tour for Rave On!, our previous album, and decided to take a break from touring to focus on writing a new record.

It took us about a year and a half, between writing the songs — which I mainly do at home with an acoustic guitar — and arranging them, which we do all together in our rehearsal room.

We wrote around 20 new songs and recorded pre-production demos of all of them. Then we selected 15 to officially record in the studio.

From those 15, we eventually chose the 10 that would make it onto Off The Record. The other five will be B-sides for some of the singles or will be released in the future!

Off The Record is coming out soon. When is the release date, and what are your plans for the rest of the year? Are there concerts, touring or other Radio Days activities we can look forward to?

Yes, we’re almost there! Our final single, “Another Lonely Night,” will be released on August 21st, and then Off The Record will be out on September 4th.

We already have a few shows booked in Italy, and at the end of October and beginning of November we’ll be doing a 10-date tour in Spain. We’ll be announcing those dates in the next few days.

After that, we’re working on a tour of Japan for April/May 2027 — exactly ten years after our first time in the Land of the Rising Sun!

“Flying High” sounds like the ultimate Power Pop song to me — immediate, melodic and incredibly catchy. When you write a song, how do you know when you’ve got something really special? Is there a moment when you realize, “This one is better than the rest”?

Thanks, I’m really glad you like it! It was actually the first song out of the 20 or so that we wrote for Off The Record.

Usually, I can tell pretty quickly if something is working when I come up with a good chorus or a good verse. I record it right away and send it to the others, and if they don’t shoot it down and everyone likes it, then I know we’ve got something!

It’s a strange process. Sometimes I can’t come up with anything for months, and other times I manage to write two or three good songs in a single week. It really depends on my mental state, my mood, my motivation… It’s not easy to figure out!

There seems to be a renewed interest in catchy, melodic guitar Pop at the moment, with bands like The Lemon Twigs, Mod Lang and others attracting a lot of attention. Do you feel that this new enthusiasm for Power Pop and ’70s-inspired Pop has reached Italy as well? And do you feel part of a new wave, or do you see Radio Days as continuing something you’ve been doing all along?

It’s great to see these younger bands getting into the genre. The Lemon Twigs have changed quite a bit compared to their early days and have become more Power Pop and ’60s-influenced, and I absolutely loved that change. Mod Lang have also made a fantastic record.

There has never really been a big scene for this kind of music in Italy, but I’ve definitely noticed more people becoming interested in it over the last few years.

I’d say we’re probably too old to be part of this new wave, haha! But we’re also really happy to see a bit more interest in a genre that we’ve been carrying on for so many years. I think it’s good for everyone.

Scott Gagner on Sweet Tooth, Pop Music and Finding the Bright Side

With Sweet Tooth, Minneapolis songwriter Scott Gagner has delivered one of this summer’s most infectious pop albums. Across ten concise songs, he combines sunshine pop, power pop and psychedelia into a collection overflowing with irresistible melodies, rich harmonies and colorful arrangements. But beneath its candy-coated surface lies a clear message: choosing joy can be a powerful response to an increasingly troubled world.

We caught up with Scott to talk about the philosophy behind Sweet Tooth, the artists who inspired the album, how it came together in the studio, and whether, after releasing so many records, making a new album can still surprise him.

On Sweet Tooth, pleasure almost feels like an act of resistance. Do you think making joyful pop music in times like these can be an act of defiance? 

Indeed. Any act of creation is an act of good. If that creation can spread a little joy, positivity, and hope — when all evidence points to the contrary — then you are doing a tiny part to redress the balance. People have been bombarded by more than enough misery these days — we certainly got our share in Minnesota this past January. It somehow felt like the most radical and generous thing I could do was make Sweet Tooth an uplifting, earworm-rich pop record. 

You’ve said it would have been easy to make an album full of sad ballads. Why did you consciously choose not to? Was there a specific moment or event that inspired you to make a record filled with color, energy and hope? 

Truth be told, I love writing sad ballads. Maybe it’s the Ron Sexsmith fan in me. But I wrote so many that they started piling up in one corner of the studio. After a few months, they started to smell funny. Meanwhile, in the opposite corner, a pile of bright, shiny, candy-coated pop songs started piling up. They smelled sweet and delicious. Then I wrote “Sugar Rush.” That song seemed to embody everything that the “pop pile” was going for. In fact, it declared itself so strongly, that I decided to change the title of the album from “Technicolor Eyes” (a phrase from leadoff track “Beyond the Blue”) to “Sweet Tooth.”

Listening to Sweet Tooth, I hear touches of sunshine pop, power pop and psychedelia. Were there specific artists or records that inspired you while writing and recording the album, or did those influences emerge naturally? 

My daughter is a fellow Beatles freak like me, so that’s what we listen to in the car on the way to her swim practices. After witnessing an absolutely incendiary show in Minneapolis, I’ve been on an extended Guided by Voices kick. It certainly helps that they keep putting out incredible records every year. Other recent favorites include Mike Viola, Super Furry Animals (plus solo Gruff Rhys), Father John Misty, and Aimee Mann. For the more synth-based songs (“Purple Heart” and “Where Do We Go From Here”), I was influenced by some Norwegian Disco that my brother turned me on to (Todd Terje, Lindstrom), pre-1982 Devo, and Tubeway Army. I love the juxtaposition of live human drums with robotic synth arpeggios.

Can you walk me through the making of Sweet Tooth? How did you choose the musicians, the studio and the producer, and how much of the album’s sound was already mapped out before you started recording?

All the songs began in my home studio, often originating with a title phrase, and then brought to life while strumming my favorite nylon-string guitar. By the end of the initial writing day, I’ll have a pretty fleshed-out demo, including drums, bass, guitars, piano, synths, and vocals. That exact demo remains the basic foundation for what you hear on the final album, and I simply replace any instruments that need improving along the way. That way I can retain plenty of the initial inspiration and excitement of the demo. In the case of this album, I wanted to use my incredible rhythm section of Tim Zhorne (drums) and Sam Graber (bass) playing together. I also wanted to try a studio in Minneapolis called The Library. The owner/engineer, Matt Patrick, has created an incredible space — all the walls are lined with books for acoustic dampening. We replaced all the drum and bass tracks in one marathon day. I then took an additional studio day to replace some guitars that needed improving. Then I continued to polish at my home studio, overdubbing any final touches, and adding additional players, including Aaron McCabe on trumpet and Rachel Hunter on backing vocals. 


You’ve released quite a few records over the years. Does putting out a new album still bring surprises, either in the reviews or in the reactions from listeners? Were there any responses to Sweet Tooth that really stayed with you?

I’ve been pleased with the reactions thus far. The word “irresistable” has popped up in a few reviews, which is what I was going for. After all the bad news that has swirled around us in recent years, it seems like people were ready for something upbeat, positive, and hopeful. 

The Goods: Finding Hope in Goodbye Summertime

The Goods return this September with Goodbye Summertime, the follow-up to Don’t Spoil The Fun, one of my favorite albums of last year. Released by Dandy Boy Records, the new record builds on everything that made its predecessor so memorable: instantly gratifying guitar pop packed with irresistible melodies, but with an emotional depth that reveals itself the closer you listen. Much of that comes from Rob Good’s lyrics, which are remarkably honest, direct, and unafraid to be vulnerable.

Ahead of the album’s September release, I spoke with Rob Good about the emotions behind Goodbye Summertime, writing some of its most personal songs, and what lies ahead for The Goods.

Goodbye Summertime is such a melancholy album title to me. Was that the state of mind you were in when you wrote these songs, or is it more the atmosphere you wanted to convey?

It’s a melancholy album, really. It does have a lot to do with the state of mind I was in when writing it. A lot of the album is about change, and although change can be good it can also be painful, and you can mourn the loss of what you had to leave behind to get to a better place. But saying “goodbye” to something also means saying “hello” to something new, so it may be tinged with some sadness but there’s optimism in there too. To me, the title Goodbye Summertime captures those bittersweet feelings.

“Wing” is a song I keep coming back to, especially because of the lyrics and the line about asking someone to take you under their wing. It feels very vulnerable. Was that your intention when you wrote it?

“Wing” is definitely me at a vulnerable moment. The lyrics are very direct and honest. Sometimes in my writing I’m just trying to express a feeling that’s difficult to put into words, but in this case I was being more autobiographical. A lot of the songs on this record were written really quickly, in heightened emotional states, and then recorded right away. This is one of those songs. I don’t know about the intention because “Wing” just kind of spilled out – I think I needed to write it at that moment.

On parts of “Ginger Rose” you sing noticeably higher than usual. As a listener, that has a huge emotional impact on me—not just because it sounds beautiful. Were you deliberately trying to add an extra emotional dimension, or did the melody simply lead you there and require you to sing in that higher register?

When I’m writing, I just try to follow the melody where it wants to go. I don’t think I necessarily set out to write a song where I sang in falsetto, but as I was feeling my way through the chords it just seemed to take me there. I can remember around the time of writing “Ginger Rose” I was obsessed with several songs that featured a falsetto vocal – “Here There and Everywhere” is an obvious touchstone, but also “Tell Me Have You Seen Her” by the Chi-Lites and “How Deep Is Your Love” by the Bee Gees – so that influence must have crept in. I do love a falsetto vocal, and it was fun to explore that part of my voice.

“Waiting” feels quite different from the rest of the album. It’s just you and your guitar, I assume. Because it’s so brief, it feels more like a short story than a full novel—to use a slightly clumsy comparison. What made it such an important piece of the album as a whole?

I like that comparison! “Waiting” was just a song-fragment that was rattling around in my head, and that seemed to be all that it wanted to be. I think it’s okay for songs to be short. Sometimes you just have a snippet of a melody and it somehow feels complete – like if it were any longer it would somehow lose something. Tony Molina is obviously the master of this. I also love Pink Flag by Wire and of course “Your Majesty” at the end of Abbey Road. Not that I was explicitly thinking about any of that when I wrote “Waiting,” but I’ve just always found that short songs can be really impactful and beautiful. As far as its importance on the record, over the course of an album I feel like the little moments are just as important as the big swings, and “Waiting” is just one of those little moments.

When is Goodbye Summertime being released, and what do the next few months look like for The Goods?

Goodbye Summertime comes out on September 16, and our record release show is on September 11 at Little Hill in El Cerrito, CA. Then, starting September 24 we’re heading out for a European tour with Joel Cusumano. We’re currently looking at visiting Germany, Spain, France, Belgium, and the UK, and maybe a couple other places too.

Paul Collins on 60 Minutes of Power Pop: From the Stage to the Screen

On Sunday, April 6, 2025, Paul Collins played at the new dBs here in Utrecht. He had promised “60 Minutes of Power Pop” beforehand, and that’s exactly what we got: in a blistering one-two-three-go rhythm, he blasted through nearly all the classics from the first two The Beat albums, along with a handful of gems from The Nerves. Collins was the undisputed King of Power Pop, urging his much younger backing band on with infectious energy, never letting the pace drop for a second.

Next to me, I saw my two sons, aged 21 and almost 23, watching it all with big smiles. During “Hanging on the Telephone,” a spontaneous family dance broke out, and for a moment, we found ourselves in Power Pop heaven.

What an amazing night!

That Utrecht show was just one stop on a unique tour in which Collins performed with different backing bands. The entire adventure has now been captured in a wonderful documentary, following the tour from rehearsals to performances around the world.

I spoke with Paul about how the film came together, what it was like working with so many different musicians, and why the project has already been attracting attention from film festivals. He also shared some exciting news about an upcoming release celebrating the 50th anniversary of The Nerves.

How did the idea for the movie come about?

Paul Collins: I was in Mallorca after I did that show for Paco, and one morning I said to myself, “I really want to document this. I want to let everyone know that I did it.”

I thought it was a tremendous undertaking, and I really surprised myself with how well it turned out.

I’d collected clips that people had posted about the different shows, so I thought I would use those as the basis for putting everything together. One of the clips was done by the filmmaker Tom Fleming, and it was of a very high quality. So when I got in touch with him, I thought I’d ask, “Do you want to help me make this into a film?” His immediate answer was yes, and I’m so glad that he did, because I think it turned out great.

60 Minutes of Power Pop is such a great concept. Did the idea come together all at once, or did it evolve over time?

Paul Collins: Yes, it all came together at the same time.

I was thinking about how I could improve the shows, which is something you’re always doing. How can I make it better? How can I get people to come out?

And it just came to me in a flash. Why don’t I just do the best songs by The Beat and The Nerves? There are so many, and that would be non-stop power pop!

Just one great song after another.

So that was the inspiration for everything. Once I had that, everything else just snowballed.

In the film we see you performing with a number of different backing bands, and it all seems to come together effortlessly. I imagine organizing that must have been quite a challenge. How did you make it work?

Paul Collins: I surprised myself with how easily it fell into place, although I knew each time I was taking a tremendous gamble that it might not work out.

I vetted the bands as best I could. Toyozo I knew from Japan, and I knew he was serious about this music. I had total faith that he would come up with two guys of the same caliber, and they were amazing. We really could have done it after one rehearsal. After the first rehearsal, I said, “Wow, it’s done.” But we did the second one just to be on the safe side.

It was more or less the same thing with every band. The Manikins, again, I vetted them. I saw that they were touring, and they were from Switzerland. The Swiss are famous for being very meticulous. Once again, when I showed up, they had everything locked down, and it was really amazing. I gave myself a number of days in their hometown. They put me up in a very nice place, so I got to hang out there. We had a buffer in case there were any problems, but we really didn’t need it.

It just kind of went on like that. The guys in France, The Sutles, were the same way. I did two rehearsals with them, and we were really ready to rock. We were supposed to do more shows, but unfortunately two of them got canceled. One of the clubs closed—those kinds of screw-ups.

I loved playing with them. I was really hoping we could do more shows, and hopefully we will in the future.

The same thing happened with the guys in California. That was another case where a club owner sent me a video of them doing “Working Too Hard,” and I got in touch with them. They immediately said yes, and I went out there. Again, I had a buffer. I think I was there for almost ten days, just hanging out with them.

That was really a lot of fun. I stayed with Dustin and his family, got to know his wife and his kid, and we did it Long Beach style.

We had time to do a couple of rehearsals, but basically I didn’t do more than two rehearsals with any of these bands, including the guys in Mallorca. We’re old friends.

The film is currently being booked for several film festivals, and there already seems to be a lot of enthusiasm from festival programmers. Why do you think it has struck such a chord with them?

Paul Collins: Well, it’s been a real eye-opening experience submitting to festivals because of the way they go about things. You have to submit, and then you have to wait a long time before you find out whether you’re even in.

So far, we’ve been lucky. We’ve been accepted in Los Angeles, Berlin, Paris, and, most recently, Tokyo, and we’re hoping for more.

We’ve also submitted to Barcelona, the Woodstock Festival here in New York, and the Long Beach Festival, so hopefully we’ll get some more acceptances.

To date, the only showing we’ve had in a movie theater was in Los Angeles. A bunch of my friends went, Tom Fleming went, and Softjaw went too. It was great. They saw it on the big screen, and everybody loved it.

That’s the caveat, though, because getting accepted into a festival doesn’t always mean your film gets screened. They can only show a certain number of films.

So the second tier is finding out whether they’re actually going to show your film, and we’re still waiting to hear about that from some of these festivals.

At a certain point, we’ll just turn it over to our own platforms and let everybody see it.

We have a two-year license to do that, and we will.

Looking back at the past few years—the touring, the recording, and now the film—what keeps you inspired and gives you the energy to keep going full throttle?

Paul Collins: That’s the easy part. What keeps me going is that I love it.

This last show, The Best of The Nerves and The Beat, is also coupled with the fact that Third Man Records is releasing the 50th anniversary edition of The Nerves on October 8, which they’ll be announcing soon. It’s a double album with all those great songs.

We included some of the Breakaways songs along with the Nerves songs—everything from the vintage 1974 to 1978 period. We found the source tapes, and most of it is studio material, so the sound is incredible. It’s a great document of the work that Jack Lee, Peter Case, and I did.

So it’s a great impetus to go out there and perform this stuff.

The last show I did here in New York was my best show in New York in many, many years. We played TV Eye, it was sold out, and the audience was just fantastic. There were people like yourself with their kids, people on first dates, young kids, older kids—kids my age. We’re all kids.

So it’s a very nice situation now. The people who follow this kind of music, and the people who follow my music, are great. It’s just wonderful. Without sounding corny, it’s a loving crowd, and I really enjoy it. It gives me a tremendous amount of satisfaction to be able to do it, and I’m happy with the place I’m in now.

I’m able to do what I do, and I have no trouble surviving these days, so it’s all good.

Distant Collaborations, Close Connections: Exploring Trademark Issues

Trademark Issues is a long-distance band composed of Gary Hornseth and Mitch Armbruster. Despite their successful collaboration, they’ve only spoken directly twice. However, they’ve been creating great music together for quite some time. Their fifth album, Change This Face, kicks off with the aptly titled and irresistibly catchy track “Welcome To Album Five,” which is sure to be the funniest opening song you’ll hear this week. The album features eleven clever pop songs that draw comparisons to The Posies and evoke the pleasantly rattling style of The Front Bottoms. As they continue to evolve, their music only gets better. It’s time for a more comprehensive introduction.


You can find ‘Looking the Other Way’ showcased on the Best Power Pop of 2024 Spotify Playlist.


Could you share the journey of bringing this record to life? How did all the pieces come together to create the final product?

We’re a long-distance band in every way, living in Minnesota and North Carolina, 1,200 miles apart. We met at an arts event in Boston in 2019 and started collaborating through messaging and file sharing. This led to our first album in 2020, and we’ve since released one album a year, always on the anniversary of the first one — the last Friday in July. We’ve only spoken directly twice — once when we met and once as guests on a podcast.

“Change This Face” came together much like our other albums. Most of our songs start as unfinished fragments that one of us has lying around. Some are recent, while others are many years old. We send these fragments to each other, and the receiver turns the idea into a full song. Sometimes it resembles the original intention, and sometimes it takes off in an entirely new direction. Then we work together on the final steps — trading backing vocals, guitar accents, edits, or mixing suggestions. Sometimes one of us gets stuck trying to come up with a solo or a bass track and just throws it over to the other guy to try.

It’s an unusual way of collaborating, but it always results in something neither of us would have come up with on our own. It’s a 1+1=3 thing.

The decision to seek opinions on your new songs is intriguing. When did you realize that external perspectives could contribute to your creative process?

We suppose every artist at every level has misgivings about sharing their work. We sure do. Our song “Absolute Green” on our new LP is about that — the hesitation, self-doubt, and vulnerability that comes with hitting “send” to ship .wav files and artwork off to the distributor.

But five albums in, we’re so grateful for how supportive and constructive people are out there. The benefits of inviting opinions far outweigh the occasional sting.

Success can take on different meanings as time goes on. When envisioning success for this new record, what does that picture look like now?

For us, every new release feels a little like a ticket to an unknown play. We can never predict what will happen with it, but every time something cool and unexpected seems to pop up.

Our songs have ended up in independent films, we’ve had a song profiled on a talk show on the third largest radio network in Spain, we hear our songs backing social media videos internationally, we sell a few CDs and shirts to people we’ve never met, we get a few nice reviews, and we make new connections and friends around the world. And we get asked by cool people like you to do fun things like this!

Success in terms of big sales and large streaming figures will probably never be our thing, and that’s OK. We like being our version of a band and all the colorful stuff that comes with it. And we like to think that we’re growing and refining our sound with every album.

Lyrics often carry profound meaning. Are there particular lines you hope listeners will always remember from your songs? If so, what’s the significance?

We both write a lot for our day jobs and enjoy the challenge of using words in this different way. We’ve always loved lyricists who delight in wordplay and wit — like Neil Hannon, Paul Heaton, Andy Partridge, Kirsty MacColl, Stephin Merritt, both of the They Might Be Giants guys, the Lucksmiths guys, and many others.

If we write a line that makes someone stop in their tracks for a second, or one that elicits a wry smile, that’s a win in our book. It’s genuinely one of the most rewarding things when someone tells us a lyric has connected with them in some way. It reminds us to tell the same to others.

Among the compliments you’ve received, is there one that remains etched in your memory? If so, what made it particularly unforgettable?

Our favorite compliment is when someone we know is impressed by one of our songs without knowing it’s us and says with surprise, “Wait. This is you?” Family, in particular, can be tough to impress, so tricking them into a compliment can be the best way. :>)

And we love being compared to bands we love. We got a Posies comparison the other day, which will keep us going for the next month.

Studio moments often hold a touch of magic. Could you recount an instance that stands out as the most enchanting during your creative process?

We remind each other to embrace our constraints. You can’t really get more DIY than we are. We record separately in our homes (many of our vocals are recorded in parked cars; we like the sound). Our gear is simple and inexpensive. We’re neither virtuoso players nor especially adept producers. We only communicate through messaging and shared files. So, it helps to be open to welcoming the opportunities that constraints can create.

We love it when a mistake leads to something cool. For example, when we’ve accidentally nudged a harmony track during mixing and it threw it a few milliseconds off, it opened up a new sound for the better. Or when the gain on a vocal track was accidentally way too high and we liked the sound, so we kept it.

We care a lot about our final results and getting them to be the best they can be, but over the course of five albums, we’ve grown pretty comfortable with who we are.

Where do you see yourself situated within the broader landscape of the music industry? How do you perceive your unique role and contribution?

We’re glad and grateful to be a small particle in the big music universe. The wonderful reviewer Janglepophub recently described our records as “gloriously catchy and perfectly obtuse.” If that’s even a little bit true, and if some people enjoy what we do along the way, it’s about the best contribution we could hope to make.

The Junior League’s Sonic Evolution: Behind the Tracks of Their Latest Releases

The Junior League has just dropped a new EP, Nattering Nabobs, and their latest full-length album, Our Broadcast Day, is set for release on October 4. Joe Adragna has evolved his sound to be “more Gram, less The Knack,” offering a delightful treat for fans of twangy power pop and roots pop.


You can find ‘Skinny Tie’ showcased on the Best Power Pop of 2024 Spotify Playlist.


You released an EP and will release an entire album in October; did the inspiration just keep coming?

I had 15 or 16 songs going. I didn’t want to make the full-length album too long. In the past, I feel like my records have often been two or three songs too long. Sometimes, those extra songs aren’t quite as strong as the others and should have been left off. In this case, I wanted to keep the full length as concise as possible—although it’s still 10 songs!

How did you decide which song went on the album and which went on the EP?

I felt like “Skinny Tie” and “Nattering Nabobs” fit together musically but didn’t blend as well with the other songs on the full-length album, which is called Our Broadcast Day. I had a song I wrote late in the sessions for this called “Kinda Lost” that I liked and that would have fit on Our Broadcast Day. It was a toss-up between that one and “Two Ways To Go” as to what would be on the EP. In the end, I felt like “Two Ways To Go” fit the record better all around and served as a good opening track.

Your sound evolved, didn’t it? More Gram, less The Knack?

Hahaha, yeah—there are still tambourines and jangle elements, but this record is a bit more laid-back than parts of Bridge and Tunnel, or certainly Adventureland. It has more in common with Fall Back, maybe—but I think this is a much better record. Hopefully, I’m getting a little better at this!

“Skinny Tie” will immediately catch the eye of every power pop lover. What’s the story?

Well, I think it’s a funny song. I wrote it with every power pop cliché I could think of! Hahaha. It was inspired by some very “passionate” arguments I had seen or heard online about what is (or isn’t) power pop. I can see how those terms might make people feel boxed in if they let it.

Both releases are so solid. You knew you had a truckload of good songs when you started recording?
Thank you for saying that. I felt strong enough about the songs to release both the EP and the full-length. To be honest, though, I never know what I think of anything until it’s all over. I tried to be more selective this time—as I mentioned earlier, I’ve had one or two too many songs on some of my records. I might like a song, but it might not be the best song, if that makes sense. I think these are just right, he said hopefully!

From NYC to the Studio: Yours & Mine’s Story of Love, Loss, and Music

If The Posies are one of your favorite bands, I’m sure you’ll love New York’s Yours & Mine. They’re that good! After releasing an EP in 2017, they’re back with this hit that sounds both fresh and mature. It’s my summer 2024 album! And luckily, there’s plenty of summer left to enjoy it!

Greg talks about how ‘The Shadow You Cast’ came about.


You can find ‘Pushing up Daisies’ showcased on the Best Power Pop of 2024 Spotify Playlist.


Could you share the journey of bringing this record to life? How did all the pieces come together to create the final product?

This record has been a long time in the making. I wrote the majority of these songs between 2014 and 2018. I went through some ups and downs with a significant other during that time (which ultimately ended in breaking up and ending an engagement). Looking back, it’s all water under the bridge, but those songs serve as a well-documented timestamp in my life. I usually write my songs on acoustic guitar. If it sounds good on acoustic, it usually translates nicely to electric and full band arrangements.

As far as crafting the arrangements with the band and recording them, to make a long story short, life sometimes gets in the way (for better or for worse). Just trying to get by financially was probably one of the biggest factors (2018-2021). When you work a 40+ hour week, there’s just not a lot of time left to make music. Then came the pandemic, which pushed a huge pause button in everyone’s life. It really impacted the band because we all moved out of NYC. Kris (bass) moved to North Carolina, Dan (drums) moved to Rockland County, NY, across the Hudson River, and I moved way upstate. Lastly, my family welcomed two amazing children into our lives in 2021 and 2023. All that is to say, there has been a lot going on, and I’ve found pockets of time here and there to slowly chip away at writing and recording this record. We tracked the rhythm section (drums and bass) in 2018, and I soon began tracking the guitars and vocals. The more I tracked, the more frustrated I became with my own takes and sound. It really started to weigh on me… What I envisioned in my mind’s ear was not what I was hearing in the recordings. So I took a break from recording for a while, and that’s when life got busy. I’m thankful that Kris and Dan were supportive of me taking my time. Every now and then, they just gave me a gentle nudge to keep going.

It wasn’t until my wife and I moved to upstate NY in 2021 that I had the opportunity to build my own small recording studio. That’s when I finally had the time and space to reopen the sessions and begin to find the sound I was looking for. It took a few more years before I finally felt good about everything. I sent the sessions over to our bassist, Kris, who then mixed the record over the course of a month or two, then it was off to mastering… and here we are!

Success can take on different meanings as time goes on. When envisioning success for this new record, what does that picture look like now?

I’ve been in bands since I was 14, and my framing of “success” has changed significantly over the years. During my 20s, “success” became a numbers game. How many people bought/streamed our record? How many people came to our shows? How many reviews did we get? Those ‘number’ metrics can really consume you in a negative way. When I started Yours & Mine in 2015, I reframed “success” entirely. I’m lucky that I can make music independently with people that I love. If my only metric for “success” is that we can write, play, record, and distribute music, that’s all I can really ask for. Everything else is icing on the cake. You put your music out into the world and hope that it resonates with people. That’s a simplified answer; of course, there’s an effort put into networking and spreading the word via gigs, conversations, and social media. But at the end of the day, the success is in the music itself.

As an artist, the act of baring your emotions to the world is profound. Does this vulnerability come naturally to you, or is it a constant journey of finding comfort?

It really is a vulnerable process to write and release music. Oftentimes when I write, the lyrics come last. Melody and chords are crafted simultaneously, and I use mumbles as tentative lyrics. But once a particular lyric or phrase stands out, then I’m able to frame what the song will be about. My songs are not always autobiographical. Sometimes a story will emerge with fictional characters. “Wedding Vow” is perhaps the most vulnerable I’ve ever been. Many years ago, I was in a relationship, and we got engaged. As we were planning the wedding, we also happened to be growing apart. Our goals and future seemed to not align. Without going into detail here, we broke up and ended the engagement. I wrote that song while we were still together, and I remember thinking… There’s no way I can ever let this song see the light of day if we stay together. It turns out my instincts were correct, and maybe the songwriting process was a form of therapy for me to see it through and address some of those uncomfortable realizations! I think the sister song to “Wedding Vow” is “The Here & The Now,” which is my version of hoping it could work out (written around the same time). Even in that song, you can sense my uncertainty and doubt.

Defining a song’s completion can be elusive. How do you determine when a composition has reached its final, ready-to-record form?

I think that songs actually blossom in the recording studio! Usually, I think a song is ready once I have lyrics, melody, chords, and we’ve rehearsed the most basic arrangement of it as a band. We’re a trio, so that’s quite simple. Once those basic pieces are recorded (rhythm guitar, bass, drums, voice), that’s when you add the layers of more guitars, harmonies, and percussion. Next to the songwriting itself, I think the arrangement and exploration of layers in the studio is my favorite part of what we do. All that being said, I think when you press playback and listen to what you have recorded and you’re not yearning for anything else, that’s when it’s complete.

Lyrics often carry profound meaning. Are there particular lines you hope listeners will always remember from your songs? If so, what’s the significance?

I have a few favorite lyrics, for sure! Almost all of these songs have the common thread of uncertainty in a relationship and working through it (or out of it). It’s funny because these songs don’t have the same lyrical impact for me now (as someone who has moved on and is happily married with two children), but maybe someone is going through tough times in a relationship (or has before) and these lyrics resonate with them. I particularly like the wordplay in these:

I’m Not Ready to Go:
“It’s the time of night that some call day depending who you see
It’s about the time I made my way sleep”

Wedding Vow:
“Maybe your words are wasted on a wedding vow
Maybe those days are numbered for you anyhow
You find the loosest lips upon a sinking ship
You wanna tell her, but you don’t know how
Maybe your words are wasted on a wedding vow”

Shadow:
“Tell me what you’ve seen
With your eyes of green
Is it love, or is it jealousy that’s blind?”

Can you recall the last instance when you felt the immediate certainty of having penned a hit song?

It’s usually the songs that come quickly. I wrote “I’m Not Ready to Go” and “Wedding Vow” in an hour or less! The good ones just come off the top of your head (at least for me, personally).

In a hypothetical scenario where you could tour with two other bands, who would be your ideal companions and what synergies do you envision?

I’m a huge fan of PONY and Extra Arms. I absolutely love how both these bands blend pop, rock, and alternative (each in their own unique way). Both bands are also insanely good at creating hooks and catchy melodies. I haven’t met or interacted with either of them, but I’d love to be ‘band friends’ someday.

With the record completed and the music released, do you believe the pinnacle of enjoyment has been reached, or is this just the beginning of an exciting phase?

For me personally, the record is the timestamp. It’s the most accurate reflection of that collection of songs, so in a way, yes. Once the record is released, it feels like you’ve let it go (almost like a bird leaving the nest for the first time). I have many more songs in the vault, so now I’m already thinking about our next batch of tunes (which will probably come in the form of multiple EPs because consuming bite-sized music collections seems to be preferred in this day and age of streaming). Since the three of us live so far apart, we don’t have the opportunity to play live very often. We do have a string of shows lined up at the end of September that I’m very excited about!