For a casual Zeppelin fan, it can be far too easy to get stuck on a heavy rotation of albums I through IV with a little Physical Graffiti and Houses of the Holy thrown in for good measure. And it can be far too easy to overlook those last three albums. But as Jack Black exclaimed at the band’s Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction, sitting our asses down for the Zeppathon (listening to all 9 studio albums straight through) is more than just required listening, it’s a pilgrimage. That’s what I set out to do, finally, which caused me to stumble upon the percussion gem, “Bonzo’s Montreux”. I suspect I’m not the only one who was excessively late to the party.
Could it be the drum solo of all drum solos? There are certainly more technically impressive solos out there—Rush’s Neil Peart has composed dozens that surpass the track we’re discussing when it comes to both technicality and complexity. But that’s not why we love Bonzo’s drumming. It’s always been about the unrelenting force. No one banged the drums louder and harder than him. In many ways, “Bonzo’s Montreux” is John Bonham’s final heartbeats. Recorded in all its thunderous glory for fans to remember him by and recall what we love most about his unmatched approach.
”Bonzo’s Montreux” gives us a fascinating glimpse of what was going on in John Bonham’s heart and mind beyond straight ahead hard rock and blues. Every roll, every hit, every fill flashes a more experimental side. Listening to it now, I wonder if this is the path he and Led Zeppelin would have headed down had he hung around longer on this planet.
"PATROL ACROBATIQUE" THE FEARLESS FLYERS (2022)
There’s always that one track that feels like a switch getting flipped — the kind that doesn’t ask how you’re feeling, it just changes it. For me lately, that’s “Patrol Acrobatique” by The Fearless Flyers. A coworker mentioned the band, and from there I found this track — which we ended up using in a video project. It clicked immediately. Some songs just work with motion, pacing, rhythm — this is one of them.
The Fearless Flyers have carved out a really compelling lane with their instrumental-heavy approach across their EPs. No vocals, no filler — just tight, deliberate musicianship that lets each part breathe while still locking into something cohesive. “Patrol Acrobatique,” off Fearless Flyers III, is a perfect example of that formula firing on all cylinders.
Side note I can’t quite shake: the EP run from I through IV… that has to be at least a subtle nod to Zeppelin, right? Feels intentional. If it is, extra points.
Back to the track — the funk here is undeniable. Not just present, but alive in every layer. The guitars, the bass, the drums — each one pulling its weight, but also clearly having a blast doing it. There’s a looseness that never sacrifices precision. And the bass… man. I keep coming back to it. There’s a confidence and clarity in the lines that makes you want to rewind sections just to hear how it moves again. And the guitar work deserves its flowers too. Technically sharp, no question, but what really stands out is the playfulness. It doesn’t feel like it’s trying to impress you — it just does, almost accidentally, because it’s having so much fun.
More than anything, “Patrol Acrobatique” is a “ready, set, go” kind of track. The kind you throw on when you need to snap out of a funk, shake off a mood, or just reset your energy. No overthinking, no buildup — just tap play and let it do its thing. Sometimes that’s all I need.
"A LOVE INTERNATIONAL" KHRUANGBIN (2024)
If there were a frequent-listener punch card for Khruangbin, mine would’ve been embarrassingly blank until recently. I was late to the party. At a concert for another band last year, their name came up and my friends were stunned I didn’t know them. You would absolutely love them, they said.
They were right.
I started where most newbies do — with Con Todo El Mundo. And it clicked immediately — the groove, the restraint, the way the basslines feel like they’re walking beside you. It was immersive without being overwhelming, global without trying too hard.
Hunkered down in an NYC winter — gray skies, yellow snow and all, “A Love International” transports me immediately somewhere warmer, sunlit, unhurried. A monochrome mood. Like most Khruangbin tracks, the instruments do the storytelling. The guitar feels like it’s singing to me — bending and gliding like vocal cords. The bass and drums doing their thing almost hypnotically. It’s a vibe.
What I appreciate most about Khruangbin is their refusal to stay in one lane. Thai funk, soul, surf rock, dub — they’re all mingling together like longtime acquaintances. A trio from Texas creating music that feels borderless. Today “A Love International” is my escape hatch.
"PORCELAIN" MOBY (1999)
For the next 30 days, I’ll be taking the #AprilAcrossAmerica challenge, picking one song a day as I make my way across the country and across genres at the same time.
Day 4: Fairfield County, CT
My early experience with Moby’s music consisted of devouring “techno” CD compilations and attending the occasional rave. These middle-of-the-night dance parties were fueled by Moby’s electronic vision. They were fun times. But it wasn’t until Moby released Play that I appreciated not just how his music made me move, but how it made me feel. From the first moment I heard Play, I just thought it was one the finest, fullest albums ever recorded, from top to bottom – rewriting elements of soul, funk, gospel and classical, just to name a few of the genres. “Porcelain” is one of the standouts from this breakthrough album.
This is the one track I always want to hear first. Delicate. Gorgeous. Soulful. Not rave Moby. This was a totally different side we hadn’t heard before. And it almost didn’t make it onto the album. Moby’s manager had to convince him this song was more than just “average”. Moby reluctantly agreed to include it. Thank God. Unlike many of the other tracks on Play, “Porcelain” relies mainly on its original synth compositions, not samples. There are still samples, but it’s Moby’s angelic keyboard wanderings and symphony-like chords that steal the show every single time.
“IN MY DREAMS I'M DYING ALL THE TIME. THEN I WAKE IT'S KALEIDOSCOPIC MIND. I NEVER MEANT TO HURT YOU. I NEVER MEANT TO LIE.”
"PEARL'S GIRL" UNDERWORLD (1996)
Electronic albums play a huge role in my fascination with music. For me, synthesizers and drum machines aren’t better or worse than live drums and guitars. They’re just different. They make music much more imaginative for me. I think Nick Rhodes’ synth parts on those early Duran Duran albums were some of my first loves. Shimmery one moment, jarring the next. Rhodes’ keyboard flourishes changed the complexion of every song. This month, I’m featuring my Top 15 electronic albums along with one featured track.
Album: The Saint Soundtrack (1996)
There may not be another soundtrack with as unified a vision as The Saint’s. The album was nearly all-electronic by design, featuring Orbital, Moby, The Chemical Brothers as well as lesser electronic-inclined artists like David Bowie and Duncan Sheik. The album, as a whole, jacks up its collection of musical notes on steroids. I’ve already paid homage to Bowie’s “Dead Man Walking” in an earlier post on Mental Jukebox, so this time I’ll go with the frenetic, relentless “Pearl’s Girl” from electronic masters Underworld.
“Pearl’s Girl” comes at you in attack mode, swarming your ears from every angle like a helicopter raid. It even sounds like a fleet of helicopters are hovering over the track from beginning to end. The drums are like machine guns, loading and reloading and unleashing, while the samples take over like brainwashing devices. Ever have one of those days where you just need to let it all out? Turning up “Pearl’s Girl” at full blast might help with that.
"SO FLUTE" ST. GERMAIN (2000)
Electronic albums play a huge role in my fascination with music. For me, synthesizers and drum machines aren’t better or worse than live drums and guitars. They’re just different. They make music much more imaginative for me. I think Nick Rhodes’ synth parts on those early Duran Duran albums were some of my first loves. Shimmery one moment, jarring the next. Rhodes’ keyboard flourishes changed the complexion of every song. This month, I’m featuring my Top 15 electronic albums along with one featured track.
Album: Tourist (2000)
I don’t know how I first stumbled upon St. Germain. It was probably a friend who introduced me, although it sounds like music that could’ve easily seeped through the speakers at a cafe or at a Uniqlo. Maybe I should hate it because of that, but I can’t deny how fascinating I find his music to be. Its heart is electronic, but its soul is analog – comprised of brass, woodwinds and not your typical percussion elements. I love all of Tourist, but “So Flute” is still my favorite track to this day.
Outside of the orchestra woodwind section, you have to go way back to find anything that uses the flute as memorably as “So Flute”. Like Jethro Tull / Genesis / Peter Gabriel-way back. Hearing this track 20 years after it was recorded, I’m amazed at how well it holds up. The best compliment I can give “So Flute” is that it feels like it could’ve been recorded this year. That’s how timeless it is. Back in 2000, St. Germain made people who had no previous interest in flutes start to see the possibilities. Myself included.
"EL PICO" RATATAT (2004)
Electronic albums play a huge role in my fascination with music. For me, synthesizers and drum machines aren’t better or worse than live drums and guitars. They’re just different. They make music much more imaginative for me. I think Nick Rhodes’ synth parts on those early Duran Duran albums were some of my first loves. Shimmery one moment, jarring the next. Rhodes’ keyboard flourishes changed the complexion of every song. This month, I’m featuring my Top 15 electronic albums along with one featured track. #15ElectronicLPs
Album: Ratatat (2004)
The world of Ratatat is a lot like video games. I’m not much of a gamer, but something about the music from this Brooklyn duo reminds me of the prodding and pacing and occasional explosiveness inside video game worlds. The music even sounds pixelated, like blips, beats and bits of animation that form together to create something mesmerizing. One of my favorite instrumental albums of all time, Ratatat’s self-titled debut album was an instant favorite of mind – and “El Pico” is still a track I turn to again and again.
Speaking of video games, “El Pico” seems almost perfect as a video game soundtrack. The progression from the instrumental “verse” section to the instrumental “chorus” section captures the rewarding feeling of slugging it out and earning one’s way to a battle with the boss. Ratatat accomplishes this feat with drum machines and synthesizers. Electronic bands have come and gone. But to this day, there’s nothing else that sounds like Ratatat, and likely there never will be.
"TO THE BIN MY FRIEND, TONIGHT WE VACATE THE EARTH" MOGWAI (2021)
Great album openers get the listeners to keep on listening. They can do this in any number of ways. Some openers set the tone by easing us in. Others jump right in and blow our minds from the very beginning. A great album opener isn’t an easy thing to create. More than a great song, it’s all about the sequence. Track 1 has to be the perfect starter. This month, I’m highlighting my favorites. #AlbumOpeningSongs
And now we come up on a renowned band that I discovered only recently. I wish I took the advice of music fans earlier and gave these talented guys a shot earlier. The music of Mogwai has certainly taken up residency in my regular rotation and it has filled a void that other bands couldn’t with its post-rock inspired, mostly instrumental approach. This is music I can rock out to and zone out to simultaneously. As The Love Continues is one of my favorite albums of theirs. Mesmerizing, almost cathartic. The opener “To The Bin My Friend, Tonight We Vacate The Earth” feels like a baptism.
The track washes over me every time I listen to it. It kicks off with the song title’s words spoken, continuing the band’s penchant for eccentric track titles. “To The Bin” then proceeds to wash away the monotony with a flood of hypnotizing synthesizer parts, taking the banality out of the most dull moment or day. This opening track brings the promise of something momentous happening. And like many of Mogwai’s compositions, it proves that all of this is possible and even facilitated by the fact that there isn’t a single lyric uttered.
"CRIPS" RATATAT (2004)
For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.
Day 18
The debut album from Ratatat was like a rabbit hole for me. A journey to discover a new electronic expression where guitars are still relevant. They are almost computerized for the better. And rhythms are highly infectious, yet super simple. And the tracks are largely all instrumental. That was the Ratatat formula. Over the years, that formula has largely stayed intact from the start. It all began with an unexpected debut album – and “Crips” was one of the key tracks.
It all starts and ends with the synth work. On “Crips”, the synth chords and riffs are simultaneously mesmerizing and invigorating. I always felt like the song was ushering me into some kind of new dimension with a different space and time. At the 2:30 mark, the distinctive bass line takes things over and ushers the listener back from the new dimension into reality. It’s a short, memorable, unexpected trip that you never have to plan for.
"AXEL F" HAROLD FALTERMEYER (1984)
After spending an entire month looking back at the 80’s, I realized one thing. I need more. Luckily, a couple of fellow music fans on Twitter came up with the brilliant idea to highlight #30DaysOf80sMovieSongs during the month of April. I couldn’t resist at the opportunity to keep going, to keep listening, and to keep celebrating the decade that has meant more to me than any other from a musical standpoint. Each day I’m playing a different soundtrack favorite on the Mental Jukebox.
Movie: Beverly Hills Cop
Growing up playing piano, I studied all the legends. Bach. Beethoven. Chopin. Liszt. Mozart. The list goes on. But as a kid, all I really ever wanted was some Axel F. I played the upright piano reluctantly. But I played my Casiotone with passion and fervor. Learning how to play the main keyboard sequence from “Axel F” on this instrument was like a rite of passage. I felt like I could hang with Faltermeyer. Of course, that’s a delusion. Harold Faltermeyer is a bit of a legend himself, crafting some of the most memorable movie soundtracks like Beverly Hills Cop and Top Gun.
Together with Glenn Frey’s “The Heat Is On” and The Pointer Sisters’ “Neutron Dance”, Harold Faltermeyer’s “Axel F” formed a formidable soundtrack triumvirate. And the latter was a rarity. Movie soundtrack instrumentals don’t normally become radio darlings, but this one was played everywhere. It hasn’t aged so gracefully. (Those keyboard riffs were 80’s to the core). But it’s a track that carries with it so much nostalgia and free spirit that it’s no wonder it got as far as it did without a single lyric.
"THE SUN SMELLS TOO LOUD" MOGWAI (2008)
Each day in December, I’ll be reflecting back on a song from the 2000’s. The decade saw the return of post-punk and the popularization of folk music, all while some of music’s biggest acts gained their indie footing. Thankfully, it’s a period that I can look back at fondly without cringing. #31DaysOf2000sSongs
One of the more intriguing artists of our time is Mogwai, a band that is completely in its element concocting atmospheric instrumental tracks where the guitars, keyboard, drums and bass seem to be delivering unspoken lyrics to the listener. Without vocals on the majority of its catalog, Mogwai is a prime example of addition by subtraction. While I’m not the biggest fan, few can disagree that the band has found an interesting niche and expanded the possibilities of indie rock. “The Sun Smells Too Loud”, in particular, is probably one of my favorite tracks of theirs.
Some Mogwai song titles seem to fit the instrumentation of the music so well. However, I can’t really make any sense of this one. That said, “The Sun Smells Too Loud” is like a celebration of the senses. The shoegazy veneer exudes through that signature distorted guitar hook, while the post-rock soul of the song cuts through with the complimentary timbres of the synthesizer. The rolling tom hits are the distinguishing percussion persona of the song. All this to say, “The Sun Smells Too Loud” feels like a mind-expanding exploration of the self every time I hear it.
"LEAVE THAT THING ALONE" RUSH (1993)
Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.
While Counterparts represented a return to the guitar-heavy side of Rush, some of the songs contain reminders of the power guitar riff era of “Working Man” and the band’s first album. But one track, in particular, showed a new side to Rush. “Leave That Thing Alone” helped bring up the rear on the album and ushered in an evolved sound as one of their best instrumentals in several years.
“YYZ” and “La Villa Stangiato” still stand the test of time as two of Rush’s best instrumentals, and two of their best songs period. But I don’t think “Leave That Thing Alone” is that far behind them. Like a classic jazz recording, Lee, Peart and Lifeson all take turns in the spotlight. But for the most part, it’s Lifeson’s multiple riffs that assert the most presence, echoing Counterparts’ heavy emphasis on guitars. Hats off to Peart for being one of rock’s most talented lyricists, but tracks like “Leave That Thing Alone” make me wonder why Rush hasn’t composed and recorded more instrumentals.
"MEDITATION VI" SUFJAN STEVENS (2021)
Pick four songs from any band and you can tell a lot about their sound. This summer, I’m featuring #RockBlocks, four picks from bands across various genres. They might be wildly different from each other, but what binds them together is the fact that they’re all a part of my life soundtrack.
Out of the pandemic came Sufjan Stevens’ most prolific recording era. Everything that has happened in the world, in many ways, left him speechless, which led to a comprehensive instrumental project. Convocations is 49 tracks long, representing the five stages of grief. There’s a lot to sink your teeth into there – and a lot to reflect on. But the Meditation series is my favorite because it suited the ambient music approach so well — and I’m especially drawn to “Meditation VI”.
Without any vocals and lyrics, “Meditation VI” and the entire Convocations project takes out one of Sufjan's strengths: storytelling. But in doing so, he invites the listener to explore his emotions — and helps us to examine our own. Like a space-age hymn, “Meditation VI” ushers us into the presence of something far greater than ourselves. It’s the kind of recording that feels like it needs a visual to accompany it. And then we realize that the whole point is Sufjan is inviting his listeners to discover that image on their own.
"ALONE IN KYOTO" AIR (2003)
Exceptional soundtracks can make good movies great. They can also take on a life of their own, becoming a greater highlight than their respective films. In this series, I’m selecting some of my favorite soundtrack songs. While quite a few are well-known recordings, I’m also including a few that have flown under the radar over the years.