The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
Every Tuesday, the Sounding Board is a space for a short-ish review of a recent-ish release and conversations about new-to-you music. We’ll get things started with a write-up about a newer, likely under-heard album, and invite you to share your music musings in the comments.
Plenty of bands, including some very good ones, peak with their debut album.1 With the release of Maybe Not Tonight, Lime Garden is officially not one of them.2
Like Lime Garden’s likeable 2024 debut, the Brighton-formed quartet’s second long-player is a 10-song dispatch of sometimes moody, usually dance-y indie rock that bears the influence of music that either did or could have scored an iPod commercial in the Apple device’s heyday, sprinkled with a scintilla of hyper pop fairy dust. However, Maybe Not Tonight is an improved execution of that formula in nearly every way.
To borrow some modifiers from a couple of trailblazing robots who feel like a precedent for some of Lime Garden’s most dance club-friendly moments: It’s a harder, better, faster, stronger album. It’s clearer, more confident, catchier and more emotive, too.
There are stronger tracks than “All Bad Parts” on Maybe Not Tonight — “Downtown Lover” is breezy power pop perfection that should grace playlists for years to come, for example — but the former track best epitomizes the band’s omnidirectional level-up. “All Bad Parts” could pass for a scuffed-up Sucker-era Charli xcx single, and it’s full, immediate and performative in a way that didn’t seem to be within Lime Garden’s grasp just two years ago.
The song’s chorus is an earworm, but the verses really sparkle. Over bouncing bass that could vibrate club walls, vocalist Chloe Howard coos seemingly sincere sentiments of adoration that she punctuates with noises of bemused disgust, as if Howard is repulsed by her own feelings.3 It’s a savvy choice that avoids feeling studied because Howard sells it, and the rest of the band sounds great. It cuts through enough treacle that Lime Garden can wax romantic and pine away without sacrificing too many cool-kid points. It also hints toward a path to long-term success in a way that is missing from songs like “23,” which features an electric “bow-ow-ow” sound that feels ripped from “Atomic Dog” or ’70s Joe Walsh, or the abrasive-to-gentle sonic sine wave of Maybe Not Tonight’s undulating title track.
If the pivot to poptimism never comes, that’s fine, too. Lime Garden is in exceptional form as is. Maybe Not Tonight is just barely too slight in runtime and intensity to merit serious album-of-the-year consideration, but it doesn’t miss the mark by much, and it’s consistently a joy while it’s playing. Like the album’s motion-blurred cover, Maybe Not Tonight freezes and depicts young adulthood in all of its scuzzy, mostly amusing chaos. That’s a good time when it’s set to groovy, electro-tinged rock.
About the writer
Ben Hohenstatt
Ben Hohenstatt is an Alaska-based dog owner who moonlights as a music writer and photographer.
For more information, consult your local library or with parental permission visit his website.
Tags for this article
More articles by Ben Hohenstatt
The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
The Sounding Board
A weekly column where New Music Tuesdays live on. Conversation is encouraged in the comments.
Department of
Conversation
What did we watch?
The Kids In The Hall, Season Five, Episode Fifteen
“Ooh, a Cyclops.”
“I always stick my head in the freezer to stay awake!”
“Woulda ya get out already, I don’t have any straws! … This job’s getting worse.”
“Is this it?”
[farting]
“No, that’s not it.”
“He seems to be having some di-fikkulty getting the salt.”
“Could be worse. Coulda used to be smart.”
“And those were the guys.”
“I call my mom collect! She doesn’t care! She knows I’m Brucio!”
“I went with a man who had a sign that said ‘taxi’.”
“Yes, I’m very lucky that I’ve always looked thirty-five.”
“I meant to think that part.”
“This is a good plan.”
“Maybe, Fran, coz of your horsely features, you’re being ridden by banshees.”
“I like my humour more physical. You know, jumping around, falling down on fruit.”
“Fran, dear, you are Italian!”
Slow Horses, “Penny for Your Thoughts” and “Returns”
We learn more about what’s going on with Frank Harkness (as comprehensively spoiled as I am, I already know what’s going on with Frank Harkness, but it’s still cool to watch the info come in), and even get to see his steely assassin/cult leader/bad father presence shaken by the imminent thread of a painful, bloody death: there’s a nice punch-counterpunch moment when he smugly points out that he knows they’re not going to dismember him alive in their hotel room because it’s awfully loud work, and the prince says that’s why he’s also completely reserved the floors above and below them. And speaking of unexpected competence, Whelan actually sort of manages a play here! The fundamental tension between him and Taverner is competence vs. incompetence, in the main–Whelan’s not so much a reformer devoted to transparency as a guy who has no idea what to do with a spy agency besides, let alone after, “open the books, a thing people seem to want”–but there are still some interesting tensions in Taverner impatiently talking about how if all this comes out, they’ll look like the baddies. Funny how that works.
Bad Sam Chapman meets a brutal end on the way to retrieve his flight fund. He practically ages before our eyes in these episodes, going from capably weary to a man in a blinding panic over a past deed coming to light–a past deed where he’d really be paying for David Cartwright, since he didn’t even know what he was turning over to Harkness–and then falling to grim, repetitive violence that does feel really sickening. I like how often flight funds come up, also, and it’s interesting that David had one, too, not just Lamb and Bad Sam. No matter how polished they are or how high they rise, none of the experienced spies ultimately expect the organization to take care of them. If none of our younger characters have one, it’s because 1) they’re slow horses who haven’t thought all this through, especially since they didn’t grow up during the Cold War, and 2) they have Lamb.
Love that train station chase scene.
River making a cool getaway and then immediately falling through a flimsy roof into a bunch of tires is now iconic to me. Second funniest thing in this set of episodes is Louisa having to go super-huffy to shake off a Dog’s unneeded assistance after trying and failing to lure Flyte away from Catherine’s flat.
Elementary, “Dirty Laundry” – A hotel manager is found in a washing machine, and after a couple of twists and turns, Holmes figures out that she and her husband were actually deep cover Russian spies. At first it seems the killer is her daughter, distraught over discovering the truth, but it’s not Sherlock but Joan who doggedly gets to the truth. Thus we inch ever closer to having her become a detective, but at episode’s end she is still denying this and has lined up her next job. At this point, the balance between case of the week and the slowly unfolding arc is strong. The plot here, BTW, is inspired by a 2010 case involving actual Russian deep cover spies who lived in the US for years. If that sounds familiar, it’s because that case also inspired The Americans, which was in development when this one aired.
Frasier, “Kenny on the Couch” – Station manager Kenny’s divorce is final, and he’s a mess. Frasier agrees to help him, and finds he has really missed having a practice. So much so that when Martin convinces Kenny what he really needs is to just have some fun, Frasier resents Martin’s interference. To some degree by the numbers, with the sort of “Martin can’t really tell Frasier that he appreciates his son’s talents” story we got a lot in the early years, but pretty well done. And there is a B plot where Niles and Daphne study yoga, and Niles tries too hard to keep up. Alan Cumming is the yogi and has a lot of fun.
Let’s Start A Cult – Showed to ANOTHER friend! Just a fun movie, nothing new to say except I suspect my friend who grew up in a cult would actually not find this particularly offensive. It gets some laughs out of the weird/dumb religious beliefs William made up and still gets why people join cults to find belonging and a sense of family. “Bust soft” is an extremely funny phrase.
What did we listen to?
Cards Speak
Second episode, much more philosophical; I’m intrigued by Andrew Lichtenberger’s Zen ideas on luck and metaphysics, and both he and Nath base these ideas on religious and philosophical feelings, but they’re also something with a bit of science behind them. If any of my obsessions are really just a hobby, it’s modern psychology, and I’ve read a few different studies that show, if I recall correctly, cortisol spikes that come with investing yourself too emotionally in the outcome of a task whereas approaching them with a more measured mindset tends to lead to a happier approach. ‘Intrinsic motivation’ is the term, as opposed to the external motivation of, say, money (as Nath points out), and ‘flow’ is the technical term for the good state to be in. Actually it occurs to me there’s resonance between Nath’s current poker experiences and my getting back into playing TF2, with the proviso that I’ve never been as good at video games (let alone TF2) as Nath has ever been at poker. Actually, at the moment, I’m playing the best I ever have.
My favourite part of Nath’s podcasts is when the player o’ the week describes how they got into the game, but I have less to say about that kind of thing, with a pattern of three (if you count Nath). Close second here was the two walking about wrapping up and then Lichtenberger bringing up that he saw an alien. I was packing up to go to D&D and had my phone playing it through its speakers as I listened to this, so I jerked my head comedically fast over to my phone when that happened. I also enjoyed Nath’s new phrase, ‘Pascal’s Labor Camp”.
”The Pretender”, The Foo Fighters
Style and Form
This is fairly straightforward, even by Foo Fighters standards – a rock song with all the bits you expect. I’m specifically looking at it because it’s one of the few I actually really like, in spite of that – Dave Grohl is a virtuoso musician but a mediocre songwriter, a combination I find really interesting. His insecurity about Kurt Cobain makes sense (apparently he wrote a lot of songs while Cobain was alive but never shared them), both in the sense of him, uh, not being as good as Cobain and in his influence being all over Grohl’s songs.
Melody and Harmony
One trick this song does is ‘reveal’ at the end that the chorus and verses are actually built on the same chord progression. I wonder if this is something like the infamous Truck Driver’s Gear Change i.e. when a song finishes with repetition of the chorus pushed up a half-step, something casual music fans tend to love (Stevie Wonder’s “I Just Called To Say I Love You” is a big one, which does it twice!) but irritates serious composers and fans. I know this layering works on me enjoying the song.
The progression itself is pretty straightforward; Grohl complicates it with a few sevenths, which feels like it softens the progression for me, as if we slide across different but ultimately similar emotions. The melody is simple and forceful, opening up towards the end of the progression; the overall effect is of someone defiantly moving through a vague, undefined but ultimately unhappy world. In the chorus, the narrator switches to floating above this world in a haze.
(Oddly, it’s the musical equivalent of the Gears of War games)
Arrangement
The musicianship is technically proficient but ultimately and unsuccessfully trying to hide that vagueness in the music, or at least make up for it – I do enjoy the way the rhythm guitar hammers down at regular points. Grohl’s voice sounds like it’s put through a filter – possibly double-tracked – which serves to make it sound even floatier.
Intro
This is a quieter version of the progression that will dominate the song that turns into the first verse immediately, with the drums beating us into the second half of the verse. This is definitely a part where Grohl’s instincts as a musician ‘save’ the song; I find myself thinking of the Beatles turning the tedium of “Octopus’s Garden” on paper into an extraordinary act of play.
Verse
These start out as quite insistent before opening up at the end; it starts out at a minor before shifting to F Major at the end, as if our hero has cheered up a little bit. At the end of the final repetition, the band shifts to give Grohl floatier music to, uh, float over.
Chorus
I enjoy how the drumming underlines the melody here, slowing down with him at the end. We also get a little beat to bring us back down to the verse, very reminiscent of the little beat in “Smells Like Teen Spirit” before “Way!”. The final set of choruses begins with a little reprise of the intro, which is very cool, and I do love the way the end of the song ‘reveals’ that the chorus and verses have had the same chords the entire time.
Bridge
This beats very insistently on the one A5, letting us build to hysteria as we demand the chord be resolved. Grohl has some fun with slower guitar parts here, flowing under insistence.
Outtro
This is effectively a very short reprise of the bridge, or more accurately the end of it – it’s very good craft that this isn’t even half the length of the bridge itself – just long enough to bring us a sense of closure.
Some Final Thoughts
Part of my dislike for The Foo Fighters is that they come off – and I realise the many layers of irony of what I’m about to say here – kind of pretentious to me. Outside his infidelity, Grohl seems like a perfectly nice dude, which actually makes his music sound even more like a pose. I realise all rock’n’roll is at least a bit of a pose and this is the appeal, but it makes the hardassed posing of the lyrics and music feel completely empty. It’s especially annoying when it comes to their lyrics; even a casual glance makes it feel like glamourising one’s own victimhood (which is always especially annoying with a man circling middle age).
That’s true even here, but I’m more comfortable getting into the spirit of things. The choices around the edges are just interesting enough to be fun. I’m often asked, ‘do you ever just watch something?’, and the answer is no; I need some kind of substance for something to be fun to me.
I’ve increasingly noticed when musicians don’t seem that well-read or aren’t working with tons of different ideas (call it the Sondheim Problem: are you an interesting person and thus a more interesting artist?) and this is likely a big contrast between Grohl and Cobain. Cobain liked weird stuff so he made more weird stuff.
Rodney Dangerfield’s I Don’t Get No Respect – I wanted a classic comedy album to work to yesterday and I got one. The stray very 1970 joke about gays in the East Village that will indeed make you pull at your collar aside, this is mainly Dangerfield at a peak. Gag after gag about being a loser that feels disciplined; the personal place this (maybe) comes from isn’t at the expense of the comedy, and he’s funny merely teeing up a laugh. “My car’s so broken down, Sundays, I take my family out for a push.”
Sabrina Carpenter’s Man’s Best Friend – Speaking of performativity! Totally opposite vocations and attitude to Dangerfield, but also arch and knowing, aware this is a schtick even if it comes from a real place. I’d describe Carpenter as campy and filthy, the rare heterosexual musician who knows how to wink at her audience. The narrator of these songs wants a responsible, good guy and mostly gets fuck-ups like in “Manchild”. I suspect she’s struck a chord with many women dealing with the same problem. Favorite is the very Prince-like “House Tour” which features a monster synth riff.
I keep staring at Blank Check on my feed and thinking, “boy three hours for that movie is a lot.” Nothing else I listen to comes close in length. And while The Laser Age is a lot more low key, a half hour on a movie seems so reasonable.
Speaking of which, the Laser Age episode about the 1976 King Kong movie was fun, and did a good job balancing “this movie isn’t very good” with “I loved this as a kid.” Interestingly, not one mention of what it’s like to watch a movie that ends with the Twin Towers at center stage, but I suspect that if you aren’t a New Yorker, you just don’t think about that.
Added a new podcast to my group, but for some reason I watch it on YouTube: Pull to Open, with journalists, one British and one American (both living in the US) watching every episode ever made of Doctor Who in random order. The discussions aren’t always good, but these guys know their Who, and are good at finding what to like in the bad episodes and in not taking anything too seriously.
Depends, as I watched Vampire in Brooklyn and the Towers were real noticeable in one sequence. (That and the famous recalled Spider-Man poster with them sticks out in my mind.)