Tony Molina

If there’s been one constant over the last decade, it’s been Tony Molina’s ability to lodge a hook in your head and dip away with a half-hatched smile. While the songwriter’s been at it much longer than 10 odd years, his solo wok has brought out the best in him; a captain of curios that bloom, blossom, and fade before you can even get your fingers around them. His latest is as maximalist as Molina gets, offering twenty one tries to pin him down, rather than the usual baker’s dozen. Don’t worry, even with the larger canvas, it’s still impossible to hem him in. The record was recorded by Tony and Alicia Vanden Heuvel (The Aislers Set) to 8 track ½” analog tape in their San Francisco home studio. Despite the homegrown roots, the record just might be his biggest sounding yet, draped in pop embellishments, and swerving through the signposts of the sixties like faded memories. The record trades in figments of the past, a patchwork feeling of familiarity that dances gently on the tip of the tongue.

Molina and Vanden Heuvel have perfected the slightly-delic stream of conscious approach here. There are no gaps in On This Day’s vision. It blurs between the breaths of a dream, jangling softly through baroques one minute, folk softness the next. It’s certainly no coincidence that this is the first full color cover from Molina’s solo run, the record is dipped in a Technicolor coating, whirled around through kaleidoscope cuttings, and bent ever so sweetly through the AM dial. It’s almost a disservice that the record was offered up in single slices prior to its release. Once On This Day is experienced whole, it’s hard to imagine any of the songs adrift from one another, a tapestry that’s got one eye on Abbey Road’s flip side and another on the airtime knitwork of John Peel’s early years. The sense that the past was prologue for this album is heavy. While one could hope this isn’t the culmination of Molina’s work, it’s certainly the most perfect version of his pop vision yet.

Support the artist. Buy it HERE.