In a world where musician and influencer, singer and celebrity seem to be interchangeable terms, where many consider TV talent show wannabees as musical icons, where making music is more about gaining followers than leaving a legacy, it is easy to be shocked, pleasantly, when the real deal comes into view. Sarah Burton is the real deal. With hundreds of shows, tons of songs and five albums, not to mention three broken-down minivans, under her belt, she embodies the modern troubadour and 64 Magic Queens is a shockingly good album.

A neat blend of country cool and garage rock groove, she mixes accessibility with attitude and melody with more muscular moves. She takes in grungy grit but balances it with sweet 60’s nostalgia, themes her songs with notions hope over adversity, silver linings and better times, not easy to do when COVID hit her hard, and runs along the musical spectrum that takes her between pop and a hard place.

And if you don’t think that I Hate Goodbyes is the best song you have heard since The Bangles called it a day, the epitome of swagger and sweetness, infectiousness and authenticity, then I’m sorry, I don’t think we can be friends.


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Musician, scribbler, historian, gnostic, seeker of enlightenment, asker of the wrong questions, delver into the lost archives, fugitive from the law of averages, blogger, quantum spanner, left footed traveller, music journalist, zenarchist, freelance writer, reviewer and gemini. People have woken up to worse.

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