Joni Mitchell | Down to You

“Joni Mitchell’s sixth album was a change of gear, coming deep from within the ME decade, its romantic entanglements dissolving to reveal a deeper search within, but far from being solipsistic Mitchell’s rumination strikes a universal chord … Post-Woodstock, the hippy dream was in crisis,” (The Quietus). “Progressive political hopes were dashed with 1972’s George McGovern electoral loss to incumbent Nixon. Mitchell (said) that this was ‘an especially lonely time’ with nothing feeling likely to last … New songs explored the struggle between love and freedom, set against a decadent backdrop, another illusion for her sharp-eyed and warm-hearted compositions to see through.

They required more expansive musical settings. Tom Scott, who would also play on Carole King’s wonderful single ‘Jazzman’, told Mojo that the self-taught Mitchell was ‘intuitively sophisticated.’ Since childhood, she’d favoured unorthodoxy, singing descant in the choir, playing her hurdy-gurdy backwards. Favouring open tunings, she produced what David Crosby called ‘weird chords’ or as she says ‘chords of inquiry’ ripped from her inner core. Rock players couldn’t follow them.

‘Down To You’ is Court and Spark’s cornerstone and one of the great songs of the 1970s. There’s a Buddhist view of transience comparing new lovers with new fashions, both being an ever-changing succession of veils that cover a core of loneliness … There’s no judgement here and life lessons come in a state of grace, from its easeful rhymes to its dazzling orchestral interlude with Mitchell’s headstrong piano working through Scott’s panorama of woodwind, horns and strings … Scott and Mitchell scooped a Grammy for this eye-watering showstopper … Court and Spark received rave reviews in both Rolling Stone and NYT, who hailed Mitchell as the ‘premier explorer’ of ‘not love songs but songs about love.’ By March it was at #2 in the US, going double platinum. November’s Miles Of Aisles live album hit the same peak and a Time cover that month sealed her cultural impact … The NYT review noted how Mitchell ‘can turn her experiences into truths that touch everyone.'”

After an unsettled intro, the verse enters at 0:33 in D major with a definitive statement about constant change. At 1:19, a rubato section in D minor delves into lightweight moonlit romance. A short interlude, built around Mitchell’s “chords of inquiry,” leads to the dawn of the next verse, which returns to a relatively uncomplicated D major. More shifts in tonality follow, second only in prominence to the shifting textural wonders of Scott’s arrangement for piano and small chamber orchestra.

Madison Cunningham | Take Two

“(Madison) Cunningham has been described as the musician’s musician …” (Here Comes the Song). “We prefer to be more inclusive and regard her as the discerning listener’s musician … the Californian achieves an almost classical sophistication in beautiful ballads such as ‘Shore,’ the Joni-esque ‘Take Two‘ and ‘My Full Name‘ (on 2025’s Ace). The young Madison was experimenting with open tunings before she discovered Joni Mitchell; secular sounds took time to woo her away from the constrictions of megachurch worship music.

… Her approach to melody is fearlessly innovative, the candour of her lyrics unflinching … At 29, Cunningham has survived a period of turbulence – married young, divorced young – normally experienced by people much older than her. Instead of retreating, she turned the ordeal into a meditation on the difference between happiness and contentment. ‘Happiness is hollow and shiny, contentment is rooted and rich and doesn’t deny sadness or joy,’ she told Leo Sidran on his Third Story podcast. ‘We want to numb pain away and that just means you numb everything else too. Contentment isn’t afraid of the feeling of pain … I’m learning how to be alone and to not feel loneliness. Those don’t have to be the same thing.’”

Joni-esque isn’t an adjective to be applied lightly. But given the broad harmonic vocabulary, the shifting instrumental textures, and cutting lyrics on offer here, it seems fitting. Beginning in A minor, “Take Two” progresses through two verses before a more strongly textured C minor verse falls into place at 1:41. At 2:26, there’s a return to the original key.

Toad the Wet Sprocket | Starting Now

“By 2019, it was evident that there would be a new Toad the Wet Sprocket album,” (American Songwriter). “As frontman Glen Phillips was toiling with what he thought was new solo material, something wasn’t sticking. What he had was a Toad record. ‘We’d taken a long break from recording together,’ says Phillips, ‘and it felt like we had the right songs and the right energy again.’

As he was pulling together Starting Now, Phillips was also coping with bigger life changes, the end of his 23-year marriage, and his kids leaving home, all shifts he says transformed his relationship to songwriting … He adds, ‘For me, it’s much more a matter of like, I am trying to find my way in the wilderness, and I need all the help I can get, so the songs are my own bread crumbs for the things that I know to be true but often forget, and in that realm, it’s about leaning towards hope.’”

“Starting Now,” the mid-tempo track from the 2021 album of the same name, begins in C# minor. An instrumental bridge (1:54 – 2:17) pivots subtly towards its end, leading to a shift up into D# minor at 2:18 as the next verse begins.

Bruce Hornsby | What the Hell Happened

“Relevancy is an ambition that countless artists strive for, yet so few actually achieve,” (Glide Magazine). “Iconic pianist Bruce Hornsby can proudly count himself among those fortunate few. With a storied musical career that has spanned (50) years, the Williamsburg, VA native continues to be a prominent influence on many modern artists – from Spike Lee to Bon Iver – that seemingly encompasses nearly all aspects and genres of the music industry.

Starting in 1974 … he formed the Grateful Dead cover band Bobby Hi-Test and the Octane Kids with his older brother Bobby Hornsby … By 1980, Bruce and his younger brother John Hornsby moved to Los Angeles, where they spent the next three years writing songs together for 20th Century Fox. In 1986, Bruce, along with his newly-formed backing band The Range, released the multi-platinum album The Way It Is for RCA Records. It was that album’s eponymous chart-topping title track that propelled the group towards receiving their first Grammy Award, for Best New Artist, in 1987.”

Since then, Hornsby has continued to perform extensively — with his band The Noisemakers, touring solo, and supporing the Grateful Dead on keys and vocals. His writing style hasn’t really pivoted away from the pop-friendly sound of his days with The Range; it might be more accurate to say that his musical palette has expanded exponentially. A wonderful example of Hornsby’s relentless eclecticism is “What the Hell Happened” from 2004’s Halcyon Days. “Self-deprecating humor has always been a hallmark of Bruce’s lyrics, and the polytonal ‘What The Hell Happened’ might be his greatest example … (a) Randy Newman-esque piece.”

The tune’s intro and verse are built around Eb minor, but not without plenty of ear-bending alterations. At 0:39, the chorus shifts to Gb lydian. 0:56 brings a seams-hidden change to F major for an extended instrumental break, driven by Hornsby’s rock-solid stride technique and fluid right hand runs. At 2:41, we return to Gb lydian until near the end, when Eb minor makes another appearance. The tune’s overall feel might bring to mind one of Randy Newman’s sepia-toned tales, but the harmonic vocabulary is miles beyond — to borrow the title from another track on the album, very “Circus on the Moon.”

Gabriel Kahane | Limping Waltz

“Gabriel Kahane is a singer/songwriter, pianist, composer, and musical polymath equally at home in classical, theater, jazz, and adult pop settings,” (Qobuz). “He has written large-scale orchestral works, piano sonatas, string quartets, and song cycles as well as intimate singer/songwriter fare, and has collaborated with everyone from Elvis Costello and Rufus Wainwright to the Kronos Quartet and the Los Angeles Philharmonic. He first came to national attention in 2006 for his playful Craigslistlieder, which set personal ads to theatrical piano accompaniment (he would later take on celebrity tweets.)”

Kahane has gone on to work with artists such as Pekka Kuusisto, Andrew Bird, Chris Thile, his father pianist Jeffrey Kahane, Sufjan Stevens, Sam Amidon, Aiofe O’Donovan, and ensembles including the American Composers Orchestra, the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra, Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, Kansas City Symphony, Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, the string quartet Brooklyn Rider, and the Aspen Music Festival. He’s served as the Oregon Symphony’s Creative Chair.

According to the notes he includes with this Instagram post from earlier today, Kahane’s “Limping Waltz” has yet to be formally released. It begins with a verse with a subtly but constantly shifting harmonic backdrop. Instagram doesn’t provide timeslates, but the tune’s chorus, starting with the lyric “But hey kid,” and running through “listen, it’s urgent,” provides a comparatively peaceful respite in a straightforward B major before the unsettled verse returns.

NOTE: we’re getting reports that this post won’t play predictably. Very, odd. Please search on Instagram for Gabriel Kahane’s January 22 post. It makes us really appreciate the relative ease of working with Youtube. Our apologies!

Jonatha Brooke | Landmine

“Jonatha Brooke started off as one half of The Story, with Jennifer Kimball,” (Tuesday Morning 3 a.m.) “The duo made lovely, complex acoustic pop music, but the best songs were Brooke’s, so it was no surprise that when she went solo with Plumb, she made a perfect pop record … It was her fourth album, 10 Cent Wings, however, that truly established her as a formidable songwriting voice. It’s one of those records on which each song, as it’s playing, is your favorite. It takes retrospection to find a standout track.

MCA Records had no idea what to do with an album this good … 10 Cent Wings languished unpromoted, a common story with an increasingly common result: Brooke bailed on major labels all together. (in 2000) she followed Aimee Mann, another literate pop songwriter with a history of uncooperative record companies, into the realm of independent distribution … Despite how difficult it must have been to watch an album like 10 Cent Wings wither on the vine, Jonatha Brooke has delivered on her own confidence. She’s proven throughout her career that if one group of songs doesn’t bring her the recognition she deserves, she can always write more that are just as good. That’s something no label executive could ever do.”

“Landmine,” a doleful track from 1997’s 10 Cent Wings, begins in D minor. The chorus shifts to D major at 0:46. But not before travelling through a short pre-chorus in E minor (0:31 – 0:46) featuring little more than a tritone bass line (’nuff said) and vocal melody. Starting at 1:21, the pattern repeats. Even when chorus’ sunnier tonality arrives, the lyrics are still downcast:

Was it that you wanted that I didn’t understand
The boomerang of expectation’s back to bite the hand

And I give my love to you
And you / You walk away too soon

Gabriel Kahane | To Be American

Composer/singer/songwriter Gabriel Kahane’s “To Be American” is a track from his from his 2022 album, Magnificent Bird. “Kahane both mines and interrogates nostalgia in the song, which he wrote during the roiling, national tumult of October 2020,” (Nonesuch.com). “‘It’s fitting,’ he says, ‘that a song preoccupied with the past would feature musicians who are some of my oldest friends. This song, as much as any on the album, is a showcase of my musical community.’ The elegiac anthem features an all-star band of Andrew Bird, Caroline Shaw, Punch Brothers’ Chris Thile and Paul Kowert, and percussionist Ted Poor.

Magnificent Bird, Kahane’s fifth solo LP … chronicles the final month of a year spent off the internet … Kahane revels in the tension between quiet, domestic concerns, and the roiling chaos of a nation and planet in crisis … In October 2020, the final month of his tech sabbatical, Kahane set out to write a song every day. ‘I wanted to create an aural brain scan at the end of this experiment,’ he explains, ‘and to give myself permission to write about small things, rather than trying to distill the enormity of the moment into grand statements … My internet hiatus grew out of a belief that at root, our digital devices reinforce the fiction that convenience and efficiency have intrinsic value. That has implications with respect to climate crisis, to inequality, to our (in)ability to see ourselves in each other, to build the kinds of coalitions necessary to make a more just world. I wanted to leave it all behind not as a further expression of techno-pessimism, but rather in search of a positive alternative.’

… Hailed as ‘a stunning portrait of a singular moment in America’ by Rolling Stone, the album chronicled an 8,980-mile, off-the-grid railway journey in the aftermath of the 2016 presidential election. ‘I wanted unmediated interaction with strangers, so I took that trip without my phone. Somewhere in New Mexico, I remember thinking, Wow, this is really transformative. I should do this for more than thirteen days.’”

“To Be American” begins with an intro and verse in Bb major, but shifts up to C major at 0:26; at 0:39, there’s a return to the original key. More key changes follow throughout. For all of Kahane’s skill in creating inventive textures as a classical composer, as well as his second career walking a complex line between classical and pop-adjacent contemporary music, this video sheds light further downstage — on his melody lines and lyrics.

for Steven

A video overview of Kahane’s cross-country 2016 rail journey:

The High Llamas | Triads

“Under the direction of multi-instrumentalist, singer, songwriter, and arranger Sean O’Hagan, the High Llamas have developed a very specific sonic fingerprint — Baroque ’60s melodies, sweeping orchestral strings, and warmly bleeping vintage synths all co-mingled in smooth harmonies — that helped define the indie sound of the ’90s and has proven to be influential to quite a few artists in the decades that followed,” (TiVo/Qobuz). “The group released albums throughout the decade that balanced Steely Dan-styled soft rock songcraft (Gideon Gaye), circular arrangements (Hawaii), and trippy easy listening music (Cold and Bouncy) but never strayed far from O’Hagan’s original idiosyncratic template.

… O’Hagan’s debut solo album, High Llamas, was released in 1990, and the Beach Boys-inspired instrumentation (and general West Coast smoothness) of the record provided a glimpse at where things were headed. O’Hagan then formed the High Llamas as a vehicle to indulge his Baroque pop/Beach Boys/space age electronic interests, and released Santa Barbara in 1992 … “

“Triads” (from 1999’s Snowbug) features an increasingly intense intro based on alternating G major and F/G chords. Verse 1 begins with a syncopated melody driven by a light swing feel at 0:43. An interlude/chorus(?) built around G# minor with a prominent hook from the vibes, supported by low brass, is in effect from 1:13 – 1:51. Then we’re back to verse 2, again in G major. The two sections continue to alternate throughout, until the tune begins to gradually deconstruct itself in its final minute or two.

Many thanks to regular contributor Ari S. for yet another distinctive find, which she describes as “dripping with Bacharach influence.”

Jonatha Brooke | Glass Half Empty

“Jonatha Brooke is one of those artists whose name always sounds familiar … but whose music you may not be familiar with … though, frankly, you really should be,” (Popdose). “She’s a talented singer-songwriter who first got her career rolling in the early ’90s as a member of a duo called The Story, with collaborator Jennifer Kimball, but Brooke soon stood on her own two feet and has trotted out album after album … some on major labels, some on indies … to critical acclaim and a decidedly diehard following.”

In a 2001 interview, Brooke held forth on the seismic shift in the music industry brought set in motion by Napster and file sharing. She had a front-row seat to both the “before” and “after” cultures of this shift: “‘… it still breaks my heart that music has been so devalued and I think labels — especially the majors — are the worst culprits at not defending the value of art, of music. And because songs are the easiest, tiniest files to steal at this point, the cat’s out of the bag. But I think it comes down to no one being educated as to what really goes into doing what someone like me does … yeah, there are tons of opportunities and great ways to network and share stuff on the Internet, but it’s hard making a living … you have to seek out gazillions of other revenue streams because records just don’t sell the way they used to.'”

1997’s 10-Cent Wings, an early solo effort, was well reviewed: … essential, like taking a deep breath after witnessing something magnificent,” (Billboard). “Glass Half Empty,” a mid-tempo track, is quintessential Brooke: polished musicianship, unpredictable and rangy melodies, a rich harmonic vocabulary, and lyrics that are likely to feed an earworm for days on end. You could search for a frayed edge in Brooke’s songwriting, but instead you’re too engaged in the narrative, the mood, or the shifting textures to even start. The intro and verses are in A minor overall (with a shift in emphasis to C major at times); the chorus throws some grit in the gears, shifting to G minor (1:28). Next is a return to the lighter tread of the interlude and then the next verse at 1:50, both in A minor. The alternating pattern continues from there.

Aimee Mann | Knock It Off

Mental Illness (2017) is Aimee Mann’s quintessential statement, tempering the discord of life with elegant chamber folk,” (Pitchfork). ” … Mann doing an album called Mental Illness is a concept so fitting it took her a lifetime to find it. Having already delivered a new wave smash, scored an Academy Award nomination, recorded eight stylistically diverse solo records as well a fiesty collaboration with punk’s Ted Leo, Mann is rightfully pissed that she’s nevertheless pigeonholed as a dreary fabricator of slow, sad-sack songs. So she’s answered her critics with her slowest, sad-sack-iest album yet, one populated by ordinary people struggling against operatic levels of existential pain at odds with their humdrum lives.

Mann has long been an expert of articulating this tension. Originally written about her attraction to a woman on the down low, her 1985 ‘Til Tuesday single ‘Voices Carry’ found its defining shape when record company meddling forced Mann to recast it as a heterosexual melodrama that became a feminist anthem about overcoming male dominance. Yet no one would’ve predicted then that Mann would rank among the few new wave survivors who’d achieve both consistent sales and artistic credibility well into the 21st century … A rocker at heart if not always in practice, Mann has sometimes been muted but never mellow; her new wave training and constitutional angst haven’t allowed it. To prepare for her latest, she studied the gentle craftsmanship of Bread, Dan Fogelberg, and other unhip smoothies that punk tossed on the anti-establishment bonfire with Yes and ELP. Mental Illness is accordingly made of skeletal strings, coolly regulated commentary, and minimal drums. Juxtaposing elegant chamber folk against the discord of lives out of balance, it’s musically more delicate than even her soft rock models.”

After a start in Bb major overall, “Knock It Off” features a soft-spoken breezy bridge between 1:46 – 2:02, shifting us into Db major. Returning to Bb major for the balance of the tune, Mann decisively closes with a simple plagal cadence.