TIFT MERRITT Sugar (One Riot) LOOK AROUND AND IT IS EASY to find some well-meaning or well-remunerated type telling us how what we need to build – in ourselves, in society, in our sporting team – is resilience, that somewhat forced addendum to the self-help catalogue that too often boils down to the claim that not being crushed is a win, still walking is some kind of reward. I get it, and it is not to be sniffed at to come out of a relationship or a job or a life-changing m

Pseudo Echo, hirsutes you sir. By Stuart Spence Here we have the next instalment in What Comes To Mind, an alternative series in the Wind Back Wednesday space, based on the work of the brilliant photographer Stuart Spence. Each time, he will dig out a photo from his archives going back almost 50 years and challenge me to respond with what comes to mind when I look at that image. It might be serious or ridiculous, personal or historical but it will be inspired by a photo I’ve

IT WAS, IN ONE SENSE, an accident of timing – not least because it was meant to happen a week earlier but misunderstanding or misadventure had put the kybosh on that first attempt at conversation – that the death of Clive Davis, a giant of mixed reputation but rare name recognition for a record company executive, coincided with this call to Taj Mahal who has a new album out called, appropriately enough, Time. But in truth, for Mahal – whose real name is Henry Saint Clair Fred

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I SUSPECTED WHAT THIS PACKAGE was as I felt its contents, and the alarm bells were ringing when I turned it over to see that the sender, via my old friend and current emptier of his attic/basement/wherever he hoards, John, was allegedly “Bearnest Zuel of 40 years ago”. Oh shit. Opening it I pulled out a bundle of paper-clipped pages, the top page looking almost sepia – jeez, I’m not that old am I? - but in fact merely a thick brown notebook sheet next to mostly white ones. A

He's sure that it must be easier for boys from the city. The artist intermittently known as Bob Evans, when not called Kevin Mitchell, has announced a 20th anniversary tour (and of course anniversary edition vinyl!) in September and October to mark his “second” album Suburban Songbook, a collection of fine pop music that also won an ARIA. If you’re wondering why “second” is so identified you may be one of the few Australians of a certain musical inclination not aware that Mit

LENKA Good Days (Skipalong Records) THERE’S A LIGHTNESS of mood in Lenka Kripac’s new album which is not a reflection of the topics as such – though a title like Good Days isn’t hiding that light under a bushel and even the label’s name, Skipalong Records, is kicking up its heels – but of intent. Everything about it has the feel of a record made to celebrate being able to make a record like this. Now that may sound circular, but well before the end – an end that arrives not

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Being a fan of music has always been “a really lovely feeling of kinship" for Sarah Cracknell of Saint Etienne. GOOD GOD, THAT’S NOT supposed to happen! Sarah Cracknell is non-music-industry punctual (“I know. I am, I can’t help it. I hate being late.”), reassuring even when plans are thrown out the window (“Oh dear, I’m scared now. No, I’ll cope.”) and has the kind of laugh that warms. A good human from a band, Saint Etienne, no one has ever knowingly said a bad word about.