Ed Harcourt - "Something to Live For". A song of tenderness and love, one that is scratchy sad and blooming glad. It's about the beating heart that terrifies and excites, the scary tremble of new love, the fear of a dawn after which it will all be over. Everything breaks, Harcourt knows, but maybe this won't! Maybe! His voice is worn out, but he tries his best as his organ breathes; as his organ dies. It's a sweet thing that he needs to sing now; he needs to pump the pedal and say the words while they're hanging so clear (like cut-out felt hearts) in his mind. From the upcoming Strangers, which is the best thing he's done.

Richard Thompson - "1952 Vincent Black Lightning". A (the?) classic Thompson track - his bleating full voice and the astounding play of fingers on acoustic guitar. They're vocals that shake you with every phrase, that demand to be loved or loathed, cheered on or rejected outright. He sings like a puppet preacher, an off-key shepherd who tells the best stories on the island. He sings with lilt and pride. The Mountain Goats before The Mountain Goats - a song of death, love and a motorcycle.

The Pitchfork review of the Arcade Fire's Funeral is not very good - disengaged, worked over, - but Moore's right when he writes that the album evokes "childlike mystification, but also the impending coldness of maturity." He's also right that it's a 9.7. You should buy it.