What's Happening?!?!

Y'know, readers, I'm often accosted in city thoroughfares by humble citizens, much like your good selves, anxious to learn what's spinning on the turntable in the FMF© Conversation Pit Of Sound. Farq, they whine, genuflecting to kiss the hem of my garment, what discs would you currently recommend from today's seething musical marketplace? As a service to them, and to you, I'll be regularly running this regular feature regularly at regular intervals on a regular basis. Unless I forget or get bored.

Steeleye Span - Estd. 1969 A stunning follow-up to the invigorating Dodgy Bastards album from 2016. Mind-blowingly lovely, thrilling music from a band I'm shamefully late to appreciate. Want wah-wah guitar? Want achingly beautiful arrangements of trad. arrs.? Of course you do.

Bruce Springsteen - Western Stars I haven't been emotionally moved by a Springsteen album since The Wild The Innocent And The E-Street Shuffle. There's been a few damn good albums since then, a couple great, but nothing that transported me in the same way, until now. I listen to this in the dark, and it's as potent as listening to The Wild ... all those decades ago. Don't care about the reviews. Don't care about the influences. Don't care about anything except where this astonishing album takes me. Thanks to the magic of mp3, I have edited out Sleepy Joe's Café, a likeable enough song that probably works live but is an unconvincing mood-lifter here. Where The Wild ... was a young man's album, Western Stars is the country for old men, scarred by experience. From the boardwalk and the boulevard to chasing wild horses, Springsteen keeps the dream alive, and bless him for it.

Dadrock makes me wet!

Doobie Brothers Live From The Beacon Theatre I know, I know, the Doobies have never been cool, and there's not that many left of the original band, and yadda yadda. Again - color me don't care. This set is a one rockin' good time. And rollin'. The two classic album iconic album classics they cover sound like a greatest hits show, beginning to end, and the new arrangements add a dynamite big band swing. The old guys still sing like young men, and Bill Payne gets wheeled on for keys, and if this doesn't get you lurching around punching the air and getting sad looks from your wife, then, gee whillickers, I just don't know what will.

Primal Scream - More Light I fell out with the Primals when they got all shouty with Xtrmntr (whtvr) like some old bum-fight hobo you're trying to back away from. Here, they dialed back the bludgeoning and get subtle on our asses in a way they hadn't managed since, ooh, Echo Dek? Varied, thoughtful, detailed, and while the songs may not have what melodic force they could muster back in the old days, there's enough going on to repay repeat listenings. And some of it rocks out, dudes.