Syd Straw was an artist I first found in college, taking special solace in her solo debut, Surprise. She wasn’t incredibly prolific, which seemed somehow apt. There was something about Surprise that made it seem like a rapid-fire follow-up simply wouldn’t be appropriate, as if it would lack respect for the specialness of what had been accomplished. Besides, there was a purely selfish benefit to Straw taking about seven years to get around to releasing her sophomore effort, 1996’s War and Peace. By the time it arrived, I was deep into my tenure in commercial radio, growing ever more enchanted with the astounding lack of creativity in the music I was charged with pumping out on the airwaves. Sound like Pearl Jam? We’ve got a place for you! Sound like just about anything else? Move along. Hearing a new album from Straw was like getting a note from a beloved old friend who’d almost slipped out my memory entirely, a note assuring me that everything was okay and the things I once loved in the world still existed. We didn’t play anything from War and Peace on the radio.

Of course, I didn’t need to play it on the radio. That’s what the home stereo was for. (There may have also been some chicanery with the radio station’s predetermined playlist during the occasional 4:00 a.m. hour, but I can neither deny nor verify that.) And mix tapes. Blessed, radio-replicating mix tapes. For a while, I tracked through just about everything on War and Peace in the process of making tapes for myself and others, but I found that I settled on a clear favorite track in time. “CBGB’s” used the legendary New York City club as the foundation of a story about the way that old romances, even glancing ones, can linger in the memory years later, more in terms of nostalgic curiosity than regret.

Just a couple years removed from college, that temptation to dwell in personal history was already igniting. Now it tugs at my sleeve like an anxious child. “CBGB’s” reminds me that it’s a common feeling, but also that it can be fairly benign. Straw doesn’t sound devastated by her recollections, even when she recounts a marriage that “ended in tragedy.” Looking back is just a form of respecting the totality of a life. Doing it in a cool, tuneful manner makes it all the better.

Syd Straw, “CBGB’s”

(Disclaimer: As with Surprise, it appears to me that War and Peace is out of print as a physical object of the sort that could be purchased from your favorite local, independently-owned record store in a way that provides due compensation to both the shop proprietor and the artist. This track is therefore shared here with the understanding and belief that its free distribution deprives no one of due compensation. Regardless, I will gladly remove it from the interweb if contacted by someone with due authority to make such a request making such a request.)