Matt Fisher was the second artist I discovered using my Yutori Scout AI agent (here was the first: https://www.unsignedsongs.com/p/midmajor-major-label-sound-major). Interestingly, I first stumbled onto an older iteration of Matt’s music through a previous project called Matt Fisher and the Telephone Junkies:

I loved the songs on that profile and was disappointed to learn the band had dissolved. As Matt later told me, “A band is like a marriage between multiple people.” Lord knows a marriage to one person is hard enough.

I was delighted to discover Matt had launched a newer project:

The Piney Pickers, a more Americana-rooted collection of songs, slightly country leaning, but every bit as enjoyable as his earlier work. The Piney Pickers, active since roughly December 2025, take their name as a hat tip to the Pine Barrens region of Southern New Jersey, where Matt grew up. I’m told “Piney” is the sort of mildly derogatory nickname locals might use to tease someone from that area.

Matt Fisher is a guitarist and songwriter with a surprisingly storied musical history. One of his earliest major appearances came at age 17 on MTV’s Made, performing with one of his first bands, The SlyCaps, which he modestly describes as “a confusing blend of funk, rock and a bit of ska.”

You can still hear those early recordings here:

I had the privilege of interviewing Matt by phone, and after spending time with his catalog, one influence becomes impossible to ignore: Elvis Costello. That isn’t a criticism or a knockoff comparison. Matt has his own identity entirely. But you cannot hear songs from his Smile Mafia or Telephone Junkies era without occasionally catching the Elvis Costello DNA in his phrasing and vocal sensibility.

Matt readily acknowledges the influence:

“Everything I do is influenced by Elvis Costello and the Beatles.”

The Beatles influence may surprise listeners less familiar with their deeper catalog, particularly their country and Americana leanings. Doubt the Beatles had a country vein? Listen to “Two Of Us” from Let It Be. How is that not a country song?

Matt told me he always viewed country music as something for “old people.”

Then he laughed at himself:

“Now that I am an ‘old person….’ Alright… I had a gig where we played a more classic country setup. My voice sounded pretty good over that kind of music. Even Elvis Costello made a country album.”

The turning point came through his friend Josh Werner, whom Matt credits as something of a country music guru. Werner brought Matt to a bluegrass festival, an experience that changed his perspective entirely.

Matt described being stunned not only by the musicians onstage, but by the audience. The people attending were shredding just as hard as the players performing. The whole thing was humbling and exciting in equal measure.

Later, playing country gigs with Josh Werner near his hometown pushed Matt further toward the sound that would eventually become The Piney Pickers.

According to Matt:

“It’s a little bit more ‘America’ style than my previous bands. What I like about the word ‘Americana’ is it’s a little bit more expansive. The Beatles were very country oriented. They even covered Buck Owens’s ‘Act Naturally.’”

Matt also pointed me toward another example: acclaimed mandolin player and bluegrass virtuoso Chris Thile has argued that “I’ve Just Seen a Face” is essentially a bluegrass song. Once you hear it through that lens, it’s hard to unhear.

And then there’s Elvis Costello. Matt noted that Costello’s country album, and particularly his cover of “A Good Year for the Roses,” helped open his ears to hear differently the country and roots music that had always been around him.

Suddenly, The Piney Pickers make a little more sense.

Before The Piney Pickers, Matt launched Smile Mafia in the early 2020s, an alt-rock project whose recordings later carried over into Matt Fisher and the Telephone Junkies. One standout track from that period is “Shooting Daggers,” showcasing not only Matt’s vocals but some genuinely impressive guitar work:

Later came Matt Fisher and the Telephone Junkies. One track I particularly like from that project:

Jessica Jessica

“Jessica Jessica” opens with a gorgeous, memorable, slightly intimidating guitar riff that stresses me out simply imagining playing it while simultaneously singing. Lyrically, Matt croons:

“Jessica Jessica dance with me easy. We don’t need no troubled hearts…”

Listen once and the melody hangs around for days, which is exactly what great songs are supposed to do. Elegant, gentle, and unmistakably his.

Matt is such an accomplished guitarist that I suspect his songwriting often begins with the instrument itself. Some writers start with lyrics. Others build both simultaneously. My impression is that Matt’s command of guitar opens melodic doors many songwriters simply never discover.

I asked what themes show up repeatedly in his writing.

“I’m pretty narrow — themes tended to be more about the fear of what’s ahead, when I was younger at least. And now that I’m older, they’re more about the fear of what’s behind me… and the fear of what’s ahead. My songwriting attempts to help me learn more about my feelings and the thoughts in my head — my wicked mind. Mental health is becoming a bigger theme.”

Then he offered perhaps the wisest thing said during our conversation:

“Even the things that are legitimately scary that we should be worried about are not improved by panicking about them.”

That philosophy bleeds into his newest material.

I asked which song from The Piney Pickers was his personal favorite.

“My Wicked Mind …is the first song I ever self-recorded where I played all the instruments. That song isn’t really ‘a band.’ It’s mostly me playing everything. Though my friend Joshua played pedal steel on it. My Wicked Mind is the one that turned out much better than I expected.”

The Piney Pickers also give Matt something increasingly rare: freedom.

“As much as I love having a band, I can show up alone and get these songs across.”

To hear what he means, watch the solo performance pinned atop the band’s Instagram profile:

“It’s just me and a guitar.”

“What I like about this genre, it’s about the song. Not necessarily about how the band looks.”

Longtime Matt Fisher listeners need not worry: The Piney Pickers still feature Matt’s lead guitar solos. And thankfully so, because the man can absolutely shred. The solos serve the songs in the most elegant way, arriving exactly when the music calls for them, and never a moment sooner.

Then, with another dose of self-awareness:

“I’m getting too old to play that loud anymore.”

Matt is married and has two dependents: a dog named Dele (pronounced like the deli sandwich), named after a Tottenham Hotspur player, and a cat named Piglet.

Check out The Piney Pickers. Though the project has released only six songs, they’ve already built an Instagram following of roughly 2,777 followers, remarkable for a band barely six months into releasing music.

My favorite track?

“What Ever Happened To Me.”

It’s a coming-of-age song for anyone who has crossed the strange border between adolescence and adulthood:

“Put on the Beatles and cry myself to sleep

Cause I’ll never wake up in 1963

Getting nostalgic for when I was 17

Back in the days when I knew everything”

CHORUS:

“How did I get this way?

Is the way things are going to be?

Is this the way things will stay?

Whatever happened to me?”

You can check it out on Spotify:

And a live version that really showcases the Beatles-esque chord movement underneath the song:

I discovered Matt Fisher through an AI scout. But after digging through decades of projects, bands, reinventions, and influences, what struck me most is this: some musicians simply keep writing because they have to. Matt Fisher sounds like one of those people. And we should all be thankful songwriters like him still exist.

It’s rare that I hear a new band and immediately connect with their songs, sound and singer’s voice. What makes this one even more remarkable is that I discovered them completely by accident. I recently subscribed to an AI tool called Yutori Scouts and turned it into a full-time digital A&R scout (note, this is different than Yutori.com which appears to be a new offering focused on fully autonomous task execution and follow-through, different URL, different offering). Think of it like a much smarter, more proactive version of Google Alerts. I trained it to continuously search the web for newer unsigned bands making melodic, hook-driven, radio-friendly rock in the spirit of artists like Goo Goo Dolls, Matchbox Twenty, Keane, The Killers, Snow Patrol, Foo Fighters, Third Eye Blind, Jellyfish, Dirty Honey, and Nothing But Thieves.

I specifically asked it to prioritize:

• strong vocals

• memorable choruses

• traditional guitar/bass/drums arrangements

• emotionally mature songwriting

• verse/chorus song structures

• melodic, accessible rock songs that still feel current

I told it to ignore anything overly experimental, shoegaze, scream-heavy, EDM-driven, or drenched in lo-fi haze. I wanted real songs, real hooks, real bands. Then I pointed it toward the places unsigned artists actually live: Bandcamp, SoundCloud, TikTok, Spotify, YouTube, indie blogs, college radio charts, and distributor ecosystems like DistroKid and TuneCore.

So far it has uncovered a number of interesting musical acts, but so far, two stand out: midmajor (they spell their name in all lower case letters), and Matt Fisher and the Telephone Junkies. Both artists are excellent, but today I’m writing about Mid Major. More on Matt Fisher in the next post.

There’s a lot to love about midmajor. Their sound is big without being overproduced. No bloated walls of synths. No impossible studio-only guitar stacks. Just a real rock band making real records that I suspect sound just as good live as they do on Spotify — and I mean that as a massive compliment. Too many bands today can’t reproduce their own recordings on a stage.

midmajor keeps it simple: guitars, bass, drums, hooks. The singer has a ripping tenor voice with just enough character in the delivery to make you lean in. My favorite track, “I’m Not Right,” hooked me immediately with its opening line: “You can be honest with me, I know I’m not right…” That’s how you open a song. Vulnerable, direct, memorable.

The video for “I’m Not Right” was filmed at the Melrose Billiard Parlor in Nashville after the band put out a call for extras on Instagram. It’s first-rate. Whatever they spent on it was money well spent because it perfectly captures the band’s sound, personality, and energy.

But as much as I liked the official video, it was their genius “Microsoft PowerPoint” lyric videos that absolutely killed me – KILLED ME! Whoever came up with the idea of presenting a rock song like a painfully corporate office presentation deserves a raise. The second I saw it, I thought: “Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” It’s clever, funny, weirdly relatable, and completely memorable. Honestly, you haven’t fully experienced midmajor until you’ve watched one of their PowerPoint-style lyric videos, so here’s a link:

And if you’re not laughing when the signature guitar riff hits and the screen flashes the phonetic masterpiece “BANANENEOUW,” I honestly can’t help you. You may simply be immune to joy. Avoid comedy clubs. You’ll hate them.

What makes it even better is that this kind of genuinely clever humor is showing up inside a song that’s actually pretty heavy lyrically. That contrast is part of what makes the whole thing work so well:

“I’m sorry for what I said when I was drunk. When I was broke
Cause nobody tells you poverty can weigh like it’s a joke
(screaming at the top of his lungs – shrieking almost:) It aint no joke!!!!!!!!!!!!”
(From their song, “Feeling Nothing Life”)

midmajor has all the pieces: talented musicians, a memorable lead singer, a rock-solid drummer (damn, can this guy lay down a foundation!), a bass player who understands how to support a song instead of stepping on it, and a lead guitarist who knows how to decorate a track without overwhelming it.

What impressed me most is that every member seems to play exactly what each song calls for, and nothing more. No showboating. No self-indulgent parts. Everything serves the song. That level of restraint and discipline is rare in younger bands. If these guys aren’t doing session work in Nashville, they probably should be. What a phenomenal collection of musicians. What great songs.

I hope midmajor keep going. Too many great bands come out swinging, only to get financially steamrolled by the modern streaming economy. Streaming pays artists roughly $0.0033 per stream— and a lot of genuinely talented bands never recover their recording and marketing costs long enough to build a real career.

midmajor deserves a big career. A long career. They’re making the kind of smart, melodic, well-played rock music that should still have a massive audience. I hope we hear a lot more from them. And in my own small way, I’m happy to send a few more listeners their direction.

P.S. You won’t find articles on this Substack that are critical of bands, musicians, or songs. Airline executives? Yes. Hate-em. But bands, and musicians, songwriters and people who try to eek out a living making art? No. Never. If you find a band or artist on UnSignedSongs.com, it’s because I love what they do, and I’m writing about them in an effort to share the joy of discovery. The world has enough people crapping on us. I won’t be one of them. I’ll crap on airlines and insurance companies all day. But not the bands or artists I feature on this Substack.

(First, to any of my Baptist friends: I apologize in advance for the profanity. Believe me when I say it was necessary and the truth of my feelings don’t come across with lesser words)

When Uber began in NYC, they were a black car hailing service. They didn’t start out as the ubiquitous car hailing service that eviscerated the taxi industry, but that was always their aim. In their earliest investor decks, they talked about how awful the typical taxi experience was for most people. The cars were filthy, the drivers were disinterested in their passengers, often chatting away on their phone, barely acknowledging their passengers. Don’t believe me? Here’s a link to their original investor presentation they used to raise $200,000!

https://www.failory.com/pitch-deck/uber

Often (at least in my personal experience), they would take the longest, most circuitous route to a destination in an effort to overcharge their passenger. Hell, they’d never see the same passenger twice, so who cared? Have a complaint about your driver? Feel you were overcharged? File a complaint with a government agency called the “Taxi Commission.” Maybe you’d even hear back! If ever there was an industry that “had it coming,” an industry that deserved to be disrupted and reduced to rubble, it was the taxi industry.

But there are others. Am I in favor of murdering insurance executives in broad daylight? No. Full stop. Luigi Mangione isn’t a hero – he’s a piece of shit. Violence is out.

Do I understand the anger people feel toward that industry? Hell yes. It’s earned. Does the health insurance industry deserve a real reckoning? Absolutely. The kind that comes from competition, transparency, and losing customers—an Uber-level disruption that strips the power, not lives. Would anyone cry if executives were out of jobs, their stock options dust, forced to compete for work like everyone else? Probably not.

But there’s one industry that’s even worse. Worse than taxis, worse than health insurance. An industry so hated that when it finally gets disrupted—routes gone, margins crushed, leadership out—there won’t be a tear shed. Any guesses?

The airline industry.

Fμck the airline industry to death. If ever there was an industry that deserved to be disrupted, that deserved a full-on, lubed up to the elbow, fist up its ass, it’s the airline industry. No other industry treats its customers with more contempt. No other industry can fail repeatedly, can suffer full-on bankruptcies due to hijackings, weather, terrorism, and have no rainy day fund to save their own asses like the airline industry. No other industry has gone to Congress, hat in hand, more often, and gotten bailed out more often than the airline industry – with our money! Your elected politicians give away our money to an industry who can’t be bothered to maintain their own reserve fund, despite knowing they will fail once every 10-years or so!

They treat us, passengers, with contempt. We are subhuman. Our personal space, comfort, our time — they don’t give a flying (no pun) fμck: * Seats don’t lean back like they used to? Fμck you, sit upright like cargo while we cram in another row and charge you more for it.

• * There’s barely any legroom anymore? Fμck you, wedge your knees into the seat in front of you so we can pack the plane tighter.

• You want to sit next to your own family? Fμck you, pay up or watch your kid sit next to a stranger.

• You thought buying a ticket meant you had a seat? Fμck you, we sold it twice, now beg at the gate for a voucher.

• Your flight got canceled? Fμck you, sleep on the floor and figure out your own way home.

• You think checking a bag is included? Fμck you, that’s a privilege now, open your wallet.

• You thought your miles were worth something? Fμck you, we gutted their value overnight.

• You want your money back for a canceled flight? Fμck you, take a credit with an expiration date.

• Want to change your ticket? Fμck you. Non-refundable.

• Want a refundable ticket? Fμck you! Four-times as much!

• You want to talk to a real person for help? Fμck you, scream into a bot or rot on hold.

• Your luggage didn’t show up? Fμck you, suck it, we’ll toss you pennies for your stuff and call it even.

• Clean planes? Fμck you – we now offer you bed bug bites and you have to litigate against us to get compensated for your suffering:

https://www.cbsnews.com/atlanta/news/delta-klm-lawsuit-bed-bug-infestigation-flight-serbia-atlanta-airport/

There’s a shoulder-length veterinary glove — the kind used by vets and farmers to reach deep inside large animals like cows for rectal exams or calving — thick plastic that runs all the way up to a grown man’s shoulder. And there’s a bucket of lube sitting right next to it, ready to coat that glove, just waiting for the airline industry to bend over.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CfZiAiYNcI8

I don’t know how it will come to pass. I don’t know what innovator or invention finally breaks it. But it won’t be another airline pretending to be slightly better. It’ll be something that goes around you entirely. Maybe it’s a network of bullet trains, underground (Hey Elon! @boringcompany?) or above ground, ripping city to city at 200 miles an hour. Maybe it’s trains floating on magnets, silent, fast, on time, every time (ever been to Japan?). Maybe it’s point-to-point vertical launch aircraft that never touch your miserable hubs. Maybe it’s private terminals where you walk in and you’re on the plane in ten minutes. Maybe it’s something none of us see yet. Teleportation? It doesn’t matter. It just has to work. It just has to treat people like human beings instead of cargo.

And when it hits, when people finally have a clean way out, nobody is going to hesitate. Not one person is going to cling to their miles, their status, their little plastic card. They’re gone. And when the executives are sitting there watching it unravel, watching their stock bleed out and their options turn to dust, there won’t be sympathy. There won’t be patience. There won’t be understanding. Because fμck you. You built this. You earned this. And people are just waiting for the day they can walk away and not look back.And just to remind people of what shitbags you are, in your hearts, just to punctuate the moment of your demise, I bring back an oldie but a goodie. A song that defined the term “protest song.”

Years ago, long before all the airlines uniformly sucked donkey dick collectively, airlines still maintained the patina of respectability. It was a facade, of course. They hated their customers then as they do now, and every so often, they’d peek out from behind the curtain of their disdain for their customers and remind us of how badly they sucked. And it took a songwriter to give them some comeuppance.

This song was written by a Canadian songwriter, Dave Carroll, in 2009. After traveling to a concert and watching the United Airlines ground crews literally throwing his guitars around on the tarmac, breaking his $3,500 Taylor guitar (and presumably his band’s other instruments) at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport, and getting no help whatsoever from the airline (as remains a typical customer service experience to this day), he wrote a song and it went viral. United Airlines decided it would help him, only after the song went viral and embarrassed their airline to the point that it might affect their stock price. The moment was such a cultural touchstone it earned its own Wikipedia entry:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Breaks_Guitars#:~:text=%22United%20Breaks%20Guitars%22%20is%20a%20protest%20song,hit%20upon%20its%20release%20in%20July%202009

The song was so good, and the story so relatable, it exploded—30 million views on YouTube, another million-plus streams on Spotify. It didn’t just get attention, it stuck. It took a working musician and put him on the map in a way no label, no marketing plan ever could. And yeah, that song probably still closes his set. Not as a novelty—but because everyone in the room knows exactly what it feels like: everybody’s been fμck ed by an airline. It’s a right of passage? Travel by air? You’ve been fμck ed.

Would that kind of traction happen if he wrote his song about a bad meal at a restaurant? A hopelessly miserable brand of lawnmower? Of course not. It hit because everyone’s been fμcked by an airline. Everyone’s felt that mix of helplessness and rage when there’s nobody to fix it, nobody accountable, and nowhere else turn to. That’s why it spread. Not because it was clever. Because it was true. Because airlines suck, legitimately. Assertively.

And the industry keeps pushing it. Worse seats, worse service, more fees, less accountability. They act like you’ve got no options, and for now, they’re mostly right. You’re funneled through the same airports, the same systems, the same indifferent machine that knows you’ll be back because you have to be.

Doesn’t matter what it is. It just has to be better. And once it exists, people are gone. No loyalty. No hesitation. No nostalgia for miles or status.

And when that day comes—when the numbers drop, the routes shrink, the whole thing starts to crack—don’t expect sympathy. Don’t expect anyone to call it unfair. You built this system. You trained people to hate you. You earned every bit of it.

So yeah. For your viewing pleasure—and maybe a preview of what it looks like when one small piece of that frustration finally boiled over—here’s “United Breaks Guitars” by Canadian singer-songwriter Dave Carroll:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YGc4zOqozo

Thank you, Dave Carroll, for putting voice to our pain. God Bless your songwriting talents. I know you’re a Canadian so you probably won’t like all my swearing. But my vitriol and curses are as authentic as your lyrics. Fist up the ass for all airline executives.

Mark Mulch’s Song on YouTube: You’re Done Breakin’ My Heart.

Part of me hates reviewing an artist’s older material, because artists change. They find a new lane. Sometimes they leave the old one on purpose. That’s exactly what’s happening with Mark Mulch right now. He’s firmly planting his flag in the Trop Rock world, a lane that’s been wide open ever since Jimmy Buffett abruptly exited the planet and left everyone wondering who, if anyone, could credibly step in. Mark might be that guy. He’s a real candidate for the job, and he’s doing the work to earn it.

But for the purposes of this review, I’m going backwards.

I’m reviewing his song, “You’re Done Breakin’ My Heart.” And yes, I know that’s unfair. Artists don’t love being judged on yesterday when they’re busy building tomorrow. But I can’t help which songs grab me by the collar, sit me down, and refuse to let go. Some songs just hit whatever nerve they hit, and this one does it every single time.

Mark is a New Jersey native who’s been based in Nashville for the past 19 years, and he’s not some newcomer figuring it out in real time. He’s been songwriting professionally for more than two decades, back when the songwriting pits were still gladiatorial and you earned respect the hard way. He did. He’s a John Lennon Songwriting Contest winner, an overall finalist in the country category, and a writer with real major label receipts, including the title track “Welcome to the Block Party” on Priscilla Block’s Universal Records debut. Hell, he recently wrote with the rock band Saving Abel. And a producer I know and trust told me Mark slayed.

His song “Steal You Away” didn’t just get cut. It went nuclear. Featured in the film Country Strong, then recorded by the Randy Rogers Band, it sat at number one on Texas Country Radio for seven straight weeks. That does not happen by accident. That happens when a song connects deeply and repeatedly.

He’s had film and TV placements, national advertising uses, songs on hold with major artists, and enough near misses to either break you or harden you. Mark clearly chose the second option. These days he’s writing, recording, touring, and building real momentum in the Trop Rock lane with global radio airplay that actually matters.

All of that is true. All of that counts.

And yet, when I hear “You’re Done Breakin’ My Heart,” I don’t hear Trop Rock. I hear straight ahead Southern rock songwriting. Clear emotion. No gimmicks. No wink at the audience. Just a song that knows exactly what it is and doesn’t apologize for it. That’s the Mark Mulch that gets me every time.

So let’s talk about the track.

Released in 2022, right in the middle of Covid if you recall, Mark opens the first verse with a moment we’ve all lived. The phone lights up. A number you recognize. A name you deleted for a reason.

“See your number on my phone

No name cause I moved on

Six months since you’ve been gone

And here we go again…”

A good songwriter knows the first two lines have to hook the listener. A great songwriter knows he has to own the listener’s heart and mind by the first half of the first verse. Mission accomplished. What I love about this track is how universal it is. Everyone has been through a breakup, maybe a toxic one, where the ex-gf calls and tries to rekindle the feelings or hook you back in. In this song, Mark shuts it down hard by the chorus.

You’re done breakin’ my heart.

Just when I think I’m doing fine,

You try to crawl back in my life,

I won’t let you in.

For those with advanced songwriting chops, pay attention to the structure. Mark rhymes the first three lines of each verse with a clean A, A, A rhyme. The fourth line feels like an X, a line that appears to float free. But when verse two arrives, he does it again. Another A, A, A. Then he quietly rhymes the final word of line four with the previous verse’s line four, tying “you in” back to “again.” It feels effortless, which is the whole point.

“Seems this happens all the time

Just when I think I’m doing fine

Try to crawl back in my life

But I won’t let you in.”

By the first chorus, he delivers the payoff. I’ve done the work. Stay the hell out.

“You’re done breakin’ my heart

I’ve worked too hard to go back to the start

You can’t hurt me from wherever you are

Cause you’re done breakin’ my heart.”

In some of Mark’s songs, the chorus melody stays close to the verse or even rides the same chord changes. Plenty of great songs do that. But as a listener, I prefer a chorus that earns its own airspace. A new melody. A new progression. A true lift. That’s what happens here. The chorus hits differently. It feels like a payoff.

Another songwriter might have framed this as “please don’t break my heart again” or “I won’t let you break my heart again.” Mark doesn’t ask. He instructs. The title itself is a line in the sand: you’re done. Full stop. That already says everything that needs to be said. Stop. It’s over.

But then he adds “breakin’ my heart,” and that’s where the song gets interesting. Those words are almost gratuitous. He’s already shut the door. The verdict has been delivered. And yet he tacks on the reason, not to soften the blow, but to underline it. It’s as if he’s saying, you know exactly what you did, and I’m not letting you pretend otherwise. Strangely, in writing that line- the song’s title that way, Mark revealed both masculinity and toughness, and simultaneously, vulnerability.

And that’s what makes the line work. It’s tough and unrepentant, but it’s also honest and vulnerable. He’s not pretending he wasn’t affected. In fact, the firmness of the delivery is the admission. You only draw a line that hard when something actually mattered. Holding that toughness and that vulnerability in the same breath is not easy. Mark pulls it off.

That’s what GREAT songwriting looks like. Saying more by saying less. And then, just for good measure, saying a little extra that makes it stick. Damn.

Mark Mulch is not just a gifted songwriter, he’s prolific, too. He’s been writing for years, and everything he writes is strong.You’re Done Breakin’ My Heart You can enjoy his extensive catalog of songs on Spotify, YouTube and from his own website: MarkMulchMusic.com

Listen to “You’re Done Breakin’ My Heart” on Spotify:

You may not like the kind of music I like. I may not like your music. But hopefully, if you’re here, it’s because we both like music. This Substack is as much for me as it for all of you: A place where I can keep lists and links to bands, artists and songs I like. To give you a sense of the bands that move me, here is a list of some artists that have shaped my tastes over the years (bolded bands/artists are particular favorites):

Bands with male lead singers: 10cc, Aerosmith, AOR, Ambrosia, Atlanta Rhythm Section, Bad English, Badfinger, Barns Courtney, Beach Weather, Benson Boone, Biffy Clyro, Billy Squier, Boston, Cam Cole, Chris Emray (from Vienna, Austria! song: “Heal”) Coldplay, David Mead, Deadeye Dick, Dean Lewis, Dirty Honey, Durry, Ed Sheeran, Electric Light Orchestra, Enuff Z’Nuff, Fleetwood Mac, Foo Fighters, Foster The People, Fountains of Wayne, Gerry Rafferty, Glass Animals, Goose, Goo Goo Dolls, Guster, Greta Van Fleet, half•alive, Jamiroquai, Jake Rose, Jelly Roll, Jellyfish, Jimmy Eat World, Jelly Roll, John Waite, Jon Brion, Journey, Joyful Wolf, Keane, Kiss, Lifehouse, Little River Band, Loverboy, Manchester Orchestra, Morgan Wallen, Matchbox Twenty, Matthew Sweet, Mother Mother, Muse, My Chemical Romance, New Medicine, Night Ranger, Nothing But Thieves, Pablo Cruise, Pearl Jam, Red Rider, Richard Marx, Rick Springfield, Ripley Alexander, Rival Sons, Sloan, Snow Patrol, Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots, Styx, Supertramp, Survivor, Switchfoot, TALK, The All-American Rejects, The Babys, The Darkness, The Daybreaks, The Eagles, The Fray, The Gaslight Anthem, The Get Up Kids, Tesla, The Killers, The Posies, The Script, The Spill Canvas, The Struts, Third Eye Blind, Theory Of A Deadman, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Tony Lucca, Train, Triumph, Twin Atlantic, U2, Uncle Kracker, Van Halen, Wayland, Weezer, Wig Wam, Wolfmother, Yellowcard, Young the Giant,

Bands/artists with female lead singers: Miley Cyrus, Heart, Blondie, Dua Lipa, BENEE, MotherMother, Lady Gaga, Adele, the bird and the bee, Cassette, Olivia Rodrigo, Lainey Wilson, Jain, Caroline Jones, GAYLE, more to be added.

Clearly, as an adult male (wow that sounded… clinical), I am drawn to male singers — but quite a few female artists rock my musical world, too. I will add more to this list shortly.

I spent the afternoon coming up with that list. It’s nowhere near complete. The bolded entries are particular favorites. And today I begin looking for and highlighting new bands that I feel are noteworthy, and consistent with these artists 0- undiscovered bands meaning: “Unsigned.”

Finding a new singer/band/artist is a little bit like discovering a unknown bottle of Cabernet — it feels special. Like you’ve found a treasure. I thought about naming this blog, undiscovered Treasures or just “Treasures” then I was reminded of the strip club in Las Vegas by the same name… ugh.. (lol). So, UnsignedSongs it is.

If you’re here now and want to hear a truly great song, representative of the hidden treasures I’m looking to find, listen to Chris Emray’s song, “Heal.”

If you like it, we’ll get along. If you don’t, you probably won’t like my musical taste, and I’ll wish you the best on your musical journey.