October 18, 2026
Watermelon Man by Herbie Hancock. On Head Hunters, 1973
Herbie Hancock's funky fusion reinterpretation of his own jazz standard. In case the opening melodic flute-like beer bottle blowing interjected by the occasional yelp wasn’t enough of an indicator, this thing rocks. Builds up its beat instrument by instrument (more songs should do this!), anchored by drummer Harvey Mason’s confident groove. Keeps enough of Hancock’s original melody intact to be somewhat recognisable, with more than enough twists, turns, and backflips to be something wildly new. Essentially the song of Theseus.
October 17, 2026
Fragments of Time (feat. Todd Edwards) by Daft Punk. On Random Access Memories, 2013
I’d have to suddenly grow an extra limb to mildly recreate the shock I experienced finding out that this is one of the less streamed songs on Random Access Memories. Seriously, it’s just such a pleasant, easy listen. It feels like cruising down a beachside road in a summer sunset, windows down with a cool breeze. The ear-tickling guitar embellishments and digital beeps and boops are great, but the talkbox solo is what really does it for me. Let’s bring back talkbox solos.
October 16, 2026
Married With Children by Oasis. On Definitely Maybe, 1994
A refreshing glass of cold water after gorging on Definitely Maybe’s non-stop walls of distorted guitar riffs (complimentary). Clean, stripped back production that sends the album out on a laid-back note. Cheeky lyrics with a good bit of humour. Is this a love song? Is Noel Gallagher a bit of a prick for writing that about his at-the-time girlfriend? Maybe. But there’s an undeniable relatability in how it captures the love that transcends petty surface-level grievances. Maybe this is a love song! But notice how I said “at-the-time” girlfriend?
October 15, 2026
Big Time Sensuality by Björk. On Debut, 1993
At first I was like, huh. Then I was like, okay. Maybe next time I’ll be like, yeah. Some time after that I’ll be like, hell yeah! Felt a bit like swallowing gum on the first listen, with Bjork’s spontaneous-feeling vocalisations and somewhat a-rhythmic approach to rhythm making it tricky to digest. But it’s like Funkadelic said. Free your mind and your ass will follow. Succumb to the groove and the bounce, and you have a banger on your hands.
October 14, 2026
Terrapin by Clairo. On Charm, 2024.
If there’s ever been a song that perfectly captures a vocalist floating effortlessly over an instrumental track, this is it. Clairo’s aspirate vocals speak of friendship and love in charming (get it) non-sequiturs, gliding above Leon Michel’s luxurious production. She expertly navigates through majestic piano flourishes and minimalist drum fills without once losing her footing, making for some of the most downright enchanting listening material in recent years.
October 13, 2026
Spectacular by Graham Coxon. On Happiness in Magazines, 2004.
Buzzes with the frantic energy of Blur’s angstier work, with Coxon and his six-string making the most of the solo spotlight. The playing is highly technical without compromising raw energy, creating the perfect accompaniment to his dynamic, delightfully discordant vocal performance with that undeniable twinge of Britishness (you ah sum-ing quite spec-tac-yew-luaah)
October 12, 2026
Superstition by Stevie Wonder. On Talking Book, 1972.
Arguably the most impressive achievement in human artistry since the pyramids of Giza. Electrifying from the first snare hit. Neck-pain-inducingly-head-bangingly-foot-stompingly funky. Clavinet riffs for centuries. Impossible to get enough of. The work of a once-in-a-trillion-years craftsman.