If Joy Division = Mad Max (the original), then Savages = Imperator Furiosa. You can't really overthink it, people. Just hit play, let them melt your face off, and thank me later (probably after their second album drops). LA, you will be graced with their presence later this year. Don't miss it. 


Brittany Howard has the voice and stage presence of an earth-shaking blues goddess, even though she is a tiny 20-something babycat. I love really, really old blues and tend to shy away from anything too radio-ready, but it was love when I first heard the Alabama Shakes, owed 100% to her pipes. 

Watch the new video for Sound & Color below: 

“I don’t really know how to warm up,” she said, laughing. Maybe she was joking. Maybe not. (NYT)


-yé is a (mostly) French genre of sugary 1960s pop made completely out of magic and pure, unabashed girl. It was on regular rotation in our house long before Mad Men's Zou Bisou Bisou or that one scene in Moonrise Kingdom, and I distinctly remember how life-changing it was to go to my first Bardot A Go Go party in San Francisco many, many years ago.

If you're in the 415/510 (I refuse to acknowledge the new area code, sorry), I suggest you drop everything and RSVP to the next one. 


But Bardot is far from the only Brigitte that matters in music — vintage or not, Brigitte Fontaine's impossibly avant-garde Comme à la Radio remains one of the most powerful, exciting, erotically haunting albums I've ever heard, and it remains a beloved favorite. 

At some point in my very late teens and/or early 20s, my undying love for Sonic Youth dovetailed with this chanteuse, which I remind myself of every time I'm tempted to call myself a "late bloomer." 

"Nearly 30 years of age by the time of the release of her breakout third album, Fontaine was a world away from French pop music’s stables of Yé-Yé girls, hewing slightly closer to the brooding chanson of Jacques Brel." (He's another favorite of mine.)  
— Spin Magazine on Brigitte Fontaine est... folle! 


Tami Taylor, Rayna Jaymes. It doesn't matter, just give me Connie Britton playing the Southern mama of a teenage girl and I will watch it and love it forever and ever, amen. Nashville takes that and adds lots of sparkly stage outfits and serves up subtly feminist soap opera drama, and you know what else?

A lot of the songs are genuinely damn good. Which reminds me, there are a bunch of new ones I have yet to download on iTunes. LATER.