Radiohead - Live 2025.12.09 Uber Arena, Berlin, Germany

This was night two of a four-show series at a cursed venue. Since the first two nights last week in Copenhagen were canceled due to Yorke’s throat infection, I was a bit concerned how this would play out. It’s also their first tour in seven years, and there’s been no indication of new recordings. With plenty of solo and side projects, it hasn’t been clear that Radiohead would ever be a functional unit again. Sometimes you have to take the opportunities when you get them.

The band performed on a circular stage in the middle of the pit, initially surrounded by projection screens. After two songs, the screens lifted above the stage to reveal the band, accompanied by an additional percussionist, Chris Vatalaro. I almost couldn’t tell that nine years had passed since the last time I saw them, and the setlist was fairly similar. In fact, they played the same set as two shows prior in Copenhagen, merely substituting “How to Disappear Completely” in place of “Like Spinning Plates”. They’ve made a pattern of alternating between two sets with minor variations as they go along. (Naturally, someone has made a spreadsheet.)

It’s hard to judge whether I got the better or worse variant. “Nude”, “Pyramid Song”, and “Exit Music” were great, even if Colin’s fuzz bass could’ve been more present on the lattermost, but I got the weaker Bends songs. (I would’ve loved “Planet Telex” or “Just”!) If I have a real complaint, it’s just that there was a certain predictability to the song selection. I suppose asking for b-sides or unreleased songs like I got in 2012 would be too much to ask, but, like, why’d they take “Subterranean Homesick Blues”, “Climbing Up the Walls”, and “Nice Dream” out of rotation? What about any of the songs unearthed for the OK Computer or Kid A Mnesia reissues? They didn’t even really play any songs with room for chance or improvisation, like “Everything in Its Right Place”. I was hoping for some curveballs, a little more risk.

That said, they have so many great songs that they can play two sets full of bangers and safely ignore the obscurities. I finally got to see “Let Down”, albeit in a tamer arrangement that somehow lacked some of its usual uplifting energy. “Airbag”, “You and Whose Army?”, and “No Surprises” are always welcome. “Sit Down. Stand Up.”, “Optimistic”, and “How to Disappear Completely” were slightly less obvious choices that I enjoyed, although Jonny screwing up the drum machine threw the first for a loop. “There There” was a strong closing number.

But the mix, at least where I was sitting, was surprisingly bad. The bass was terribly boomy, which turned the mids into mush. The higher-powered, heavier songs like “Ful Stop”, “The Bends”, and “Bodysnatchers” were a mess, and the vocals were rendered inaudible for those. For the quieter songs, the balance was better, and those songs tended to work better. Yorke’s voice was in great form despite the recent cancellations, and I always love Ed’s (and Phil’s!) backing vocals. I was hoping for more analog synth, but Jonny just used it to control a drum machine. Regardless, it’s still cool to watch him run between so many different instruments, particularly the lovely ondes Martenot.

My other complaint was even more situational: I was happy to have a seat, but my section unusually stayed seated for the most part, and for once I really wanted to dance. My position in the venue was such that I mostly just saw Colin’s back as he locked his gaze with the drummers, which also threw me out of the experience a bit. At least Thom came around to the back for some of the acoustic numbers.

Despite the distractions, I was still captivated and sang along with just about every song. The band kept up a brisk pace, blasting through 25 songs with hardly a pause. They hardly spoke to the crowd, but then again, they rarely do say much. Their songs tend to speak for themselves. It struck me during the show just how bitingly critical and politically powerful so many of their songs are. While one can criticize the finer points of the individual members’ politics, how could anyone doubt which side they stand on? Song after song harkened back to past outrages while presciently describing those of the present day.

Maybe I came into the show with too high of expectations. The first two times I saw them in St. Louis were some of the best concerts I’ve seen, and it’s hard to match that. The circumstances did not align to give me another transcendent experience. I wish I’d been able to see and hear the band in more ideal conditions, and I wish I could’ve moved my body more freely. Oh well. I still had a blast.

Here’s the setlist:
01. 2 + 2 = 5
02. Airbag
03. Jigsaw Falling into Place
04. All I Need
05. Ful Stop
06. Nude
07. Reckoner
08. The Bends
09. Separator
10. Pyramid Song
11. You and Whose Army?
12. Sit Down. Stand Up.
13. Myxomatosis
14. No Surprises
15. Optimistic
16. Bodysnatchers
17. Exit Music (for a Film)
18. Street Spirit (Fade Out)

Encore:
19. Let Down
20. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
21. Idioteque
22. Present Tense
23. How to Disappear Completely
24. Paranoid Android
25. There There

Score: B

P.S. Thanks to Mirah!

P.P.S. Kraftwerk played at the Music Hall next door on the same night!

Agitation Free - Live 2025.12.01 Kesselhaus, Berlin, Germany

Agitation Free were one of the premier kosmische or “krautrock” bands of the early 70s, but they never quite reached the same levels of acclaim as some of their contemporaneous peers. (I’ve complained about their absence from the canon more than once.) They were creative, explorative, and skilled such that they made three classic albums with varying levels of experimentation. They might not have pioneered entirely new genres like Can, Neu!, or Kraftwerk, but they reached beyond the standard progressive rock of their time and made a series of mostly instrumental, psychedelic jams of the highest class. They also launched the careers of Christoph Franke (who left for Tangerine Dream), Ax Genrich (who left for Guru Guru), composer Michael Hoenig, and Lutz “Lüül” Graf-Ulbrich, who subsequently played with Ash Ra Tempel, Nico, and 17 Hippies. After breaking up in 1974, they reformed sporadically, releasing two new studio albums in 1999 and 2023, neither of which quite reached their original heights.

After missing some prior opportunities, I wasn’t gonna miss this one. The remaining original-era band members are not young. Guitarist Lüül and drummer Burghard Rausch are the only two left after Gustl Lütjens died, Michael Günther departed, and Michael Hoenig opted to stop touring. Lütjens and Hoenig still contributed to the last album, Momentum, but the live band now features guitarist Axel Heilhecker (from the Food Band) and jazz keyboardist Tim Sund. Bassist Daniel Cordes (who also played with 17 Hippies) has been with the band since 2013.

Although Lüül was positioned in the center of the stage, was the only one to address the crowd, and is the closest thing to a leader of the band, I was surprised how many of the guitar solos and melodies he left to Heilhecker, even on the older songs. Lüül often stuck to purely rhythmic parts, although he also played some joint lead parts and used an ebow on a few songs. Heilhecker played quite well, but his style is quite flashy and lacked some of the subtlety and expressiveness that graced their best work. Sund and Cordes both filled their roles with skill, but neither stood out as much as I might’ve hoped. Sund preferred the digital synth sound of his Korg Kronos rack, which I found a bit too mechanical. I rather enjoyed the warmth of his analog setup when he deigned to use it.

The weakest link was unfortunately Rausch. He might’ve been the one to drum on all their albums, but he had a bit of trouble keeping up. To be fair, he played at a fairly high intensity for the whole set. I can easily forgive losing a stick once or twice, but I was disappointed when they didn’t all hit the big drop of “Rücksturz”, which I attributed to Rausch. That took away a lot of the energy from one of their strongest, heaviest jams.

They played the entirety of Momentum, two cuts from 1999’s River of Return, three tracks from their debut Malesch (1972), and their signature song “Laila” from 2nd (1973). All of the early songs were excellent, and most of the newer ones were good, even if some of them didn’t capture the same psychedelic charm. I liked that all of the songs, old and new, were not set in stone, but rather served as springboards for exploration and discovery. I could see the members regularly exchanging looks and signals with one another. I loved the communication I could both see and hear in how they traded parts.

Agitation Free might not be at the top of their game, but they’re still quite good. They’re all still talented musicians, and I appreciate that they’re still going and putting out new music. I even preferred the live experience to the studio versions of the new songs, and they did justice to their old songs. Their lights and projections helped keep things interesting, too. I wish they varied their setlists more, but I don’t blame them for sticking to a standard they can use as a springboard.

Here’s what I remember of the setlist:
01. Nouveau son
02. Lilac
03. Levant
04. You Play for Us Today
05. In Da Jungl
06. Ala Tul
07. Nightwatch
08. Nomads
09. Shibuya Nights
10. Laila
11. Momentum
12. Rücksturz

Encore:
13. 2 Part 2

Score: B

Thanks to Mirah!

Soltero @ Trixtrr on December 5

Next Soltero show: December 5 at Trixtrr with Halfsilks! Doors at 8, we play at 9, Halfsilks at 10. DM for address (near Schlesi).

And I'll be singing with my choir tomorrow at V36!

Nation of Language / Westerman - Live 2025.11.21 Columbiahalle, Berlin, Germany

I’ve loved Nation of Language since their first album, but for various reasons relating to the pandemic and my health, I wasn’t able to see them live until now. I’m sad it took four album cycles to make it happen!

Westerman opened the show. He was joined by one backing musician, Daniel McIntyre, who handled backing tracks, synths, and some guitar. Westerman himself played electric or acoustic guitar on most songs and of course sang. His songs felt a bit sparse, and they rarely trascended their singer-songwriter trappings. The highlight was a song where Daniel played with some sort of ebow-like sustain on his guitar for a really cool and noisy swell effect. Their final number was the only one with an actual drum machine beat, which injected some much needed juice into the song. Otherwise I found them to be rather plainly in the middle of the road with little to hold my attention. The cocaine vibes weren’t helping.

[Nation of Language.]

Nation of Language were thankfully another story. They had the benefit of a better light show on top of the stack of synths and a great bassist, and Ian Richard Devaney’s voice was in top form. They opened with the opener of their new album Dance Called Memory, “Can’t Face Another One”, and while it’s obviously an emotionally heavy song and not their most upbeat musically, it still already burst with life and energy compared to Westerman’s set. They ultimately played half of the new album, all of which worked well on stage. I loved the My Bloody Valentine-style glide guitar on “I’m Not Ready for the Change”, although I missed the Cocteau Twins-style guitar of “Now That You’re Gone”. They also played half of their last album, Strange Disciple (2023), and while I find it their weakest album so far, the live renditions were just as good as the rest.

They also played a handful songs from their first two albums, some of which (“September Again”, “Across That Fine Line”) worked like classic synthpop anthems. Just about every song was a winner. Aidan Noell’s programming and synths carried most of the weight, but I loved the pulsing drive of Alex MacKay’s Peter Hook-style, chorus-laden bass. Devaney’s occasional guitar was usually just a bit of extra texture, although on occasion (like “In Your Head”) he let loose with a louder storm of noise, and he also occasionally drifted over to the synth rack and added a part alongside Noell. The biggest (or perhaps only) surprise came during the encore when Noell came to the center of the stage to perform “Sharevari”, a Number of Names cover that she recorded (with LCD Soundsystem’s Nancy Whang) for a single in 2022. Devaney and MacKay operated the synths and offered backing chorus vocals. That made for quite a change of mood into a more straight techno direction. I wouldn’t have enjoyed a full set of that, but for one song it was a welcome addition.

I’ve always accused Nation of Language of drawing heavily upon their forebears like OMD and New Order, and while I like that they’ve brought some new influences to their latest album, their live set still stays pretty true to the mold. I can’t even complain, though, because I love what they do, and they brought such a consistent and solid version of it to the show. The grooves were great and they brought a great energy to the parts that weren’t programmed. The crowd was dancing the whole time, myself included. It was a lot of fun!

Here’s the setlist (with help from here):
01. Can’t Face Another One
02. Sole Obsession
03. Rush & Fever
04. I’m Not Ready for the Change
05. Under the Water
06. September Again
07. On Division St
08. Wounds of Love
09. A New Goodbye
10. Across That Fine Line
11. Inept Apollo
12. Stumbling Still
13. In Your Head

Encore:
14. Spare Me the Decision
15. Sharevari [A Number of Names cover]
16. Weak in Your Light
17. The Wall & I

Scores:
Westerman: C-
Nation of Language: A-
Dance Called Memory: B+

Thanks to Mirah!

Trans Music Feels

Once upon a time I used Twitter, and a lot of my ideas that I never developed into articles or reviews ended up as a pithy line or two in the form of a tweet. (I mean, it’s not like I write a lot of essays, but there are a few here.) When Twitter fully descended into a hellscape, I moved to Mastodon. And while I post even less there, I was still sad when the first instance I signed up for announced it was shutting down this year. I’m now over at tech.lgbt, but my old toots will soon be gone forever. For the most part, I don’t care. But there was one series of toots I made that I want to collect and keep alive here.

I’ve shared songs with the tag #TransMusicFeels that gave me some sort of emotional reaction relating to my transness. Most of these songs are by cis people, as there aren’t many trans musicians in the mainstream of the genres I like best. I don’t usually like it when cis people write or sing about us intentionally, but sometimes they get it right, or get close. Regardless, these songs resonate with me and help me make sense of my trans experience. Some were probably not written with any sort of gender consideration in mind at all, but I’ll read whatever I want into these songs. That’s my right, and besides, I believe that cis people can experience most of the same feelings we do, or at least something similar. But it is a prerequisite to be on the list that I have to actually like the song beyond just feeling seen or connecting with something in the lyrics.

So anyway, here are the songs, in the rough order they occurred to me:

• “Wishes” by Beach House. I doubt it was the intention, but I hear it anyway. This was the first song that clicked for me this way and it still makes me emotional every time.
• “Reservations” by Wilco. Again, I doubt it was intended.
• “Changes” by David Bowie. Of course.
• “Lady Stardust” by David Bowie. There are countless Bowie songs that could be here, but this one hits me the hardest. It brings me back to when I felt more non-binary. The pronouns are confusing, but that might just make it more delightful.
• “Transformer Man” by Neil Young, from the bizarre/prescient Trans (1982) album. I mean, the vocoder!
• “No G.D.M.” by Gina X. My sister ripped this song from vinyl and presciently put it on a mix CD that she gave me when I was about 18.
• “Born a Girl” by Manic Street Preachers.
• “Lose This Skin” by The Clash, written and sung by Tymon Dogg. A bit complicated but I can read it that way.
• “I Want to Break Free” by Queen.
• “Losing My Religion” by REM. I understand it to be about coming out and struggling to explain one’s sexual identity, but it applies just as well to gender identity. I prefer the IRS albums but it amuses me how popular this song is and that it seems to be widely misunderstood to be a statement about religion, which as far as I can tell, it is not.
• “It’s a Sin” by Pet Shop Boys. An absolute banger if there ever was one. I will never forget hearing this blasting down the hall while recovering from surgery on a hospital floor inhabited solely by trans people.
• “For Today I Am a Boy” by Anohni and the Johnsons.
• “Boys” by Bauhaus. I remember hearing this when I was 15 and feeling uncomfortably seen. Quite a statement for the b-side of their much more famous debut single!
• “Candy Says” by The Velvet Underground always hits me hard, even if I’m past the point now of making all the big decisions that cause endless revisions.
• “A Night Like This” by The Cure has been beloved to me ever since I first encountered it via The Smashing Pumpkins’ cover. I can relate to the mess of confusing and conflicting emotions in Robert Smith’s lyrics. The line “The way that you look at me now / Makes me wish I was you” certainly foreshadows “Why Can’t I Be You?”, which frankly is also super transy. I can read lots of Cure songs through a trans lens.
• “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. A lot of NIN songs hit me in powerful, confusing ways as a teenager. I obviously connected with Trent’s depression and frustrations with capitalism, but the sexual angst was harder to explain. Now it makes more sense.
• “I Want Your Love” by Chromatics. The one guest contribution I got. (Thanks Mirah!)
• “Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God)” by Kate Bush. I’m surprised I never mentioned before! I’ve loved it ever since I heard Placebo’s cover. (Chromatics also did a version.)

I’m definitely open to more suggestsions (here or on Mastodon), and I’ll keep posting them as I encounter them!

1000 Airplanes on the Roof - 2025.11.07 Neuköllner Oper, Berlin, Germany

Earlier this year, a friend took me to my first-ever opera (Richard Strauss’ Elektra at the Staatsoper Unter den Linden) and I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. When another friend suggested a trans-centric performance of a Philip Glass theatric composition at the Neuköllner Oper, my curiosity was piqued enough to take the chance. I’m glad I did.

[Sarah Bodle and Mara Snip on stage. (Press photo.)]

There’s a review in the taz that covers the details pretty well and I won’t repeat that here. What I don’t think they covered is how the performance comes across to a trans viewer. Director Paige Eakin Young and co-director/lead performer Mara Snip took this science-fiction work about alien or supernatural abduction and deftly reinterpreted it through a trans lens. As far as I can tell, the original text from David Henry Hwang already explicitly dealt with themes of personal confusion around one’s own inexplicable experiences and the societal disbelief and refusal of acknowledgement that accompany it. As the lead performer says more than once, “It is better to forget, it is pointless to remember. No one will believe you.” While the authors drew on popular accounts of UFO encounters, they also connected it to spiritual and drug-induced experiences as well as psychosis. In all of these situations, the subject becomes even more isolated as they realize that others will not take them seriously.

All of this will be instantly familiar to any trans person. I literally thought I was a space alien as I child; I didn’t know how else to make sense of how I felt. While I’m grateful not to have lost any relationships as a result of coming out, I still worry about how extended family members or friends I haven’t seen in years will react to my changes. I still get anxious that some fresh hell will be unleashed upon me every time I go to a new healthcare professional, or visit a government office, or cross a border. I live with it better than I did a few years ago when I last wrote at length about being trans in public, but everything I wrote there is still accurate, and the politics of both my home country and my country of residence leave me in a constant low-grade panic about my safety.

One of the lessons I’ve learned over the years is that it’s easier if I don’t talk about being trans with cis people I’m not especially close to. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that they don’t understand what I’m talking about, and it tends to make them uncomfortable. The conversation is a dead end. They can’t offer me much wisdom, nor can they respond with their own similar experiences. I mean, they probably could, but they’re too scared that any comparison might offend me. (It wouldn’t!) Of course, I’m talking here about the generally sympathetic people that I would even want to share anything about myself with, not the people that actively want me repressed, outcast, or dead!

So when Snip tells me about her childhood experiences of expressing nascent femininity and learning quickly that that would elicit swift, harsh judgment, I know that feeling. When she describes looking in a window and seeing her girlhood reflected, I’ve done the same. When her mom sent her a picture taken by her grandfather of her as a child in a gown and hair extensions, I remembered a picture a friend in college took and developed of me in my first skirt with my hair finally grown out. When Snip recounted wondering how a lover would react to her trans body, I can relate. When she stopped mid-sentence to ask if someone in the crowd said something, I know that anxiety. When she expressed disbelief that anyone would ever take her seriously as a performer, let alone as a human, well, I’ve been there too.

Snip invested a lot of herself in this performance, and it paid off. I can presumably say the same of Paige. If you’re looking for a dramatic representation of what trans life is like, it’s hard to imagine doing better than this. And on top of that, you get an excellent, otherworldly musical performance featuring some sort of wind synth instrument in addition to Roland keyboard synths and a variety of other woodwinds. Snip was excellent in the role, and I would be remiss not to mention Sarah Bodle’s sublime performance as some blend of alien, spirit, and sexual liberator. I really wonder what the cis people in the crowd thought; I worry that they got an entirely different, confusing, less emotionally moving performance. But maybe for once, this wasn't for them.

Score: A

 

Thanks to Mirah! 

The Chameleons / White Rose Transmission - Live 2025.10.31 Lido, Berlin, Germany

The Chameleons have been back for a few years now. And by “The Chameleons”, I mean singer/bassist Mark Burgess (who strangely is going just by “Vox” lately) and guitarist Reg Smithies. Drummer John Lever died in 2017 and guitarist Dave Fielding has been apparently uninterested in rejoining. ChameleonsVox, which initially included Lever in addition to Burgess, seems to have fluidly become the “real” thing just by getting Reg back in the fold.

I saw ChameleonsVox twice in Berlin before the pandemic in 2017 and 2019 and enjoyed both shows. The Chameleons have played here twice in the last two years, but I missed both. I was excited for this show, all the more so when I saw that White Rose Transmission would be opening. That band was originally a collaboration between Carlo van Putten of The Convent and Adrian Borland of The Sound, another magnificent oft-overlooked 80s band. Burgess had produced the first two Convent albums and performed on a couple WRT albums, so I was kinda hoping I might see something special. Alas, there were no guest appearances. It was just van Putton on lead vocals and Thomas Marcin on acoustic guitar and occasional backing vocals. They mostly performed songs written by Borland. Marcin’s style was dynamic and emotive, and with van Putton’s full voice, they had a sort of acoustic gothic vibe. I loved the EQ on the guitar. The bottom end sounded heavy and haunting. They made a lot out of their minimal arrangements.

[White Rose Transmission.]

The Chameleons did not take long to hit the stage. They opened with the lead single of their new album Arctic Moon, “Where Are You?”, the best song they’ve put out since reforming. Their poetic politics are just as alive as ever. And while several of the songs in their set relate more to affairs of the heart, their socio-political side stood out the most. It’s amazing how brilliant songs like “Soul in Isolation” and “Swamp Thing” are still as relevant now as when they were written, and they rock. They ultimately played five of the seven songs from the new album, wisely skipping two of the more meandering tracks. “David Bowie Takes My Hand” wasn’t my favorite of the bunch, but Burgess said it was the Chameleons song that saved his life (providing no further explanation, other than that it helped him understand when fans tell him that this or that song saved theirs), which is certainly a way to hype a piece of art.

The setlist was a dream, including many of my favorites, even including “Paradiso”, which I’d specifically lamented not seeing when ChameleonsVox did their Strange Times (1986) set in 2019. In fact, it seemed like we got an especially long set, certainly longer than the shows I’d seen before and I think even longer than most other shows on the current tour so far. I’d wondered why they started so early, and it turns out it was probably that they wanted to play for nearly two hours before the local 10pm noise restrictions would go into effect. As is typical, several songs at the end of the show were extended considerably and included a number of teases of other classic rock songs.

[The Chameleons.]

It was great to see Reg playing these songs, and he was in good form. Truth be told, I preferred Dave’s parts, as they tend to be the more astral, sparkling, transcendent ones, but I always liked how they traded parts, and that dual-guitar interplay still defines the new songs. Stephen Rice played Dave’s parts note-for-note and proved himself just as skilled on guitar as he was on drums when I saw him at the 2019 show. Todd Demma’s drumming was great, and while Danny Ashberry mostly hid in the back to play relatively simple keyboard parts, he played acoustic guitar on the first half of “Feels Like the End of the World” (while a superfluous backing track played the string parts) and took Mark’s bass for the second half of “Second Skin” and all of “Don’t Fall”. Mark himself played the acoustic on “David Bowie Takes My Hand” while Ashberry played the bass part on his keyboard. While everyone played well and the show generally sounded great, the bass was oddly low in the mix. As a result, several times when I expected the beat to drop or the energy to kick up a notch, it didn’t really happen.

The Chameleons also released two EPs last year, although neither was especially notable. Of the songs that didn’t also appear on the album, they only played “The Fan and the Bellows”, which isn’t a new song. Tomorrow Remember Yesterday is five rerecordings of some of their earliest songs with slight updates, better production, and reduced tempos, but none are actual improvements over the originals. Where Are You? consists of another redone oldie, an early, alternate but similar version of the title track, and one other unremarkable, low-key new song.

It’s great to have them back at any rate, even if the difference between ChameleonsVox and The Chameleons seems to just be Reg. The new album is pretty good; it starts and ends strongly with their typical shimmering guitars and incisive lyrics, although too many of the songs go on way too long. I’m still happy to have it, and I’m happy that the band still feels alive and relevant. The crowd still skewed older, but there were plenty of people even younger than me. Mark appeared genuinely happy to still be doing it and grateful that we were still coming. If they continue to perform with this level of energy and their genre-defining sound, it won’t be hard to keep drawing a crowd.

Here’s the setlist:
01. Where Are You?
02. The Fan and the Bellows
03. Pleasure and Pain
04. Lady Strange
05. Perfume Garden
06. Looking Inwardly
07. Paradiso
08. In Answer
09. David Bowie Takes My Hand
10. Saviours Are a Dangerous Thing
11. Soul in Isolation [including teases of Buffalo Springfield‘s “For What It’s Worth”, The Doors’ “The End”, David Bowie‘s “Be My Wife”, The Beatles’ “Eleanor Rigby”, and The Smiths’ “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out”]
12. Swamp Thing [including a tease of The Beatles’ “Rain”]
13. Feels Like the End of the World

Encore:
14. Indiana
15. Monkeyland
16. Second Skin [including teases of The Beatles’ “Please Please Me” and Bowie’s “Be My Wife” (again)]
17. Don’t Fall [including teases of The Doors’ “Light My Fire”, Bowie’s “Rebel Rebel”, and something else I didn’t catch]

Scores:
White Rose Transmission: B
The Chameleons: A-
Arctic Moon: B-
Where Are You? EP: C+
Tomorrow Remember Yesterday EP: C