In the '90s, Stephin Merritt was so productive that at one point, he had four different bands going (the Magnetic Fields, the 6ths, the Future Bible Heroes and the Gothic Archies) and he was still churning out songs faster than they could get onto CDs. A blasé but devastating kiss-off to an ex who's run off to Hollywood to sell out, set to a lo-fi collection of synths and rhythm boxes that sound like they're decaying as they play, "Rot in the Sun" is primal Merritt from the period well before his gradual conversion into his generation's Irving Berlin. The song's only release came on the b-side of a fairly rare Merge 7" that predates the 6ths' first album by over a year. The a-side is an early version of "Heaven In A Black Leather Jacket" with the Bats' Robert Scott on lead vocals. The main oddity of this song is the fact that it's one of the rare occasions when Stephin Merritt drops his normal deadpan vocal style: on the tart, bitchy first verse in particular, he sounds genuinely pissed off at someone for perhaps the only time in his career.

-Srewart Mason

For years, this was the most mysterious record I owned. I bought this single at Ralph's Records in Lubbock, Texas the summer before my senior year in high school, simply because it was on Factory Records, at the time a label I bought on faith. There are no copyright dates, and no names on this single's lovely, minimalist sleeve, except for the art designer. (Designer Mark Farrow does deserve props; even when Peter Saville wasn't in charge, Factory had absolutely the best graphic design of the '80s.) It's only been in the last few years, since the development of the impressively thorough Factory discographies available online, that I've learned anything at all about the participants, and even then, it's not much: it was released in July 1984, it was produced by Stephen Morris and Gillian Gilbert of New Order (the credit reads "A Bemusic Production," which was the semi-anonymous credit that New Order members took when working on outside projects), and...well, actually, that's it. There is literally no other information available on this single or its 1985 followup "Better." I've come to suspect that this is an early solo experiment by Morris and Gilbert, with Gilbert as the appealingly artless lead singer, although this brand of summery, swirling indie pop has little in common with New Order's dancefloor experiments of this era. Instead, think of the underrated Fall offshoot the Adult Net, whose Brix Smith worked this same intersection of indie jangle and glossy synth for the latter half of the '80s.

-Stewart Mason

I first heard Rick Rock on the Mondo Montage LP with the song "Buddha Buddha" which is a great song in itself. Later came More Mondo with the great Rick Rock tune "Button (Love Is No Sentimental Journey)." With those two songs I was a fan. Both "Buddha Buddha" and "Button" later appeared on the Parthenon Huxley LP Sunny Nights on Columbia Records. At a local record show I ran across "THE" Rick Rock single. Side A is "Buddha Buddha" and Side B is "Sputnik." Clocking in at a mere 2:10 "Sputnik" is a great bit of Cold War Power Pop.

In April 2005 I had a chance to play with P Hux (Rick Rock) and showed him my 45. He played "Sputnik" that night in my honor (and gave me a t-shirt). For all things relating to P Hux go here.

-Michael Slawter

A short-lived trio starring Archie Moore from Velocity Girl on guitar and Pam Berry (from seemingly every other cool Washington D.C. indie band of the '90s) on vocals, Glo-Worm managed a brief run of simple acoustic singles that were eventually gathered on the compilation Glimmer. Unfortunately, the version of "Wishing Well" on Glimmer is a re-recording that buries the airy simplicity of the barely 90-second original in an onslaught of overdubbed guitar parts, at least one of which is wincingly out of tune. Humbug. There were lots of these neo-Young Marble Giants duos and trios in the mid-'90s, all releasing equally precious miniatures of a sort that you either love or hate. Personally, I almost always love them. My wife, on the other hand, tends to refer to them as "Stewart's wispy-little-girl-singers."

-Stewart Mason

Well, you know, how can you go wrong with Sarah Records? The thing is, although the popular imagination holds that there was a specific "Sarah sound," there were many records on the label that didn't fit that category. This one, on the other hand, totally does. It's like purified Essence of Sarah in just over three minutes. The final song on Blueboy's fourth 7" EP, "Stephanie" is nothing more than Keith Girdler's helium-toned, whispery vocal and Paul Stewart's gentle acoustic guitar, with a brief, quiet string flourish at the very end, yet it's as melodically substantial and memorable as anything else the label ever released.

-Stewart Mason

Several years ago at a party the discussion of great obscure 80's songs on the radio popped up. Several people tossed out names like Wire Train or Red Rockers. Scoff, that's child's play! I quickly spouted "Anybody remember that song about Albert Einstein's illegitimate son?" You know, Glass Moon's "Simon"?

Hailing from Raleigh, NC; Glass Moon was led by the great Dave Adams. Dave later had some success as producer of the Connells "Darker Days" as well as his sole solo album in '86 called "Dancing in My Sleep". Along with "Simon," Growing Up In The Dark has a fab version of the Hollies' "On A Carousel."

The first S/T album and Growing Up In The Dark are available on Renaissance Records. Thanks to Jeremy Morris for turning me onto this reissue.

-Michael Slawter