Sun Ra and the Arkestra — Sound of Joy (recorded 1956, released in this form 1968)
Song for the Here and Now: “Witness”—Thin Lear (2026)
I have known Matt for a little less than one year, though I have yet to meet him in real life. I knew him through Losing My Opinion, the podcast that he co-hosts with his friend Thomas. On the recommendation of my friend Chris, a frequent guest on Losing My Opinion, I appeared as a guest on the show last summer.
In addition to their podcast, Matt and Thomas are both indie singer/songwriter/musicians who record and perform under the monikers Thin Lear (Matt) and Niagara Moon (Thomas). Matt will be releasing a new Thin Lear album, Many Disappeared, on April 24, so I’m happy to highlight his new single from the album, “Witness” as today’s Song for the Here and Now.
Thin Lear creates beautifully arranged songs with lyrics that often tell stories that are sad and often a little strange. “Witness” is a prime example, in which the singer recounts a haunting childhood memory — a summer day long ago when he and his friend discovered a dying cat in the road — and connects it to a later encounter with mortality, which leads him back to a mature understanding of his moment with the cat. It’s a complex story and it’s Matt’s own, but his conclusion — “now I feel the strangest love, it hurts like hell/Sittin’ there inside my chest like a sentinel” — is universal to all who have witnessed the death of a loved one.
“Witness” is not the cheeriest song, but it’s a necessary song that is lovingly realized by Thin Lear. I am looking forward to hearing all of Many Disappeared when it is released next month.
Finally, I just want to note that Matt and I seem destined to stroll through a cemetery together someday.
Daily Record: Sound of Joy — Sun Ra and the Arkestra (recorded 1956, released 1968)
Donna and I watched a double feature of PBS’ American Masters documentaries last night. Both were about complex human beings who happened to be visionary artists: painter Edward Hopper and jazz composer/pianist/band leader Sun Ra. I might have more to say about the juxtaposition of those documentaries and their subject elsewhere but one result of watching them was a desire to add a Sun Ra album to my collection.
I knew I could count on a visit to Forever Changes, my friend Shawn’s record store in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania, to help me discover a good introductory record by Sonny Blount, a.k.a. Sun Ra. Sound of Joy, recorded in 1956 but not released until 1968, fit the bill nicely.
I’m not totally unaware with Sun Ra’s music. in fact, for years, I did own a two-CD collection of songs that Sun Ra had recorded and released as 45 r.p.m. singles. I don’t have that after my great CD purge of late 2023, but I’m still fascinated by the fact that one of the most avant-garde musicians of the 20th century routinely released music on singles, a format that for decades represented this transitory nature of pop music.
While much of Sun Ra’s music is wildly avant-garde, Sound of Joy finds him and his Arkestra mostly coloring within the lines of late 1950’s jazz. There are certainly some elements of strangeness at play — a few tracks have the exotica feel that was being popularized by Les Baxter and Martin Denny at the time, and Sun Ra plays a little bit of electric piano now an again — but this is generally an accessible and enjoyable introduction to Sun Ra’s work. He’s not flying out among the space ways at this point, but he’s clearly on the runway to do so.
At some point, I’d like to add an example of Sun Ra’s more far-out work to my collection. But for now, Sound of Joy will indeed provide me with joyful listening experiences.