The Bollard Bulletin for Aug. 17, 2026

“The love you need is around / in your own damn hometown,” Kate Sullivan-Jones and Galen Richmond of Gum Parker sing on “The Love You Need,” an obscure song by a largely forgotten Portland indie-rock group from 20 years ago called Diamond Sharp. That line could be the motto of Maine Covers Maine, a compilation released this month by local label Mutants of the East. It’s 28 tracks by Maine musical artists covering other Maine bands and singer-songwriters, past and present, and it’s tremendously fun — like 28 love notes passed around a classroom, followed by a concert in the auditorium during which all the notes are played.

The proof is in the concept. Very few of the acts here are known beyond the borders of the Pine Tree State, but with music this good, who the hell cares? Around here, we take care of our own, supporting local bands through word of mouth (and indie publications like this one), one five- or ten-dollar bill at the door at a time. Nobody gets rich, but everyone eats*, and the enthusiasm of local fans and friends is generally enough to keep playing.

Delights and discoveries abound on this comp, their proportion reflective of each listener’s familiarity with the scene. Here’s my list…

Delights

• Veteran metal trio Ogre covering punk legends Big Meat Hammer’s “Retro Music Sucks,” from a recent gig at The Apohadion, I believe. Love the blasphemous Hendrix bit during the solo, too!

• Snake Lips and Little Oso trading tributes, the former getting more melodic than usual with “Metaphorical Ohio,” the latter getting louder than ever with “Melt the Sun.”

• Crystal Canyon’s version of Phantom Buffalo’s “Mrs. Connelly” and Upper Narrows’ take on Metal Feathers’ “Tough” — two of my favorite indie rock songs covered by two fave acts.

• Ada Bonnevie’s moodily beautiful rumination on Theodore Treehouse’s banjo-picked rave-up “Two Hearts.” Like the aforementioned Diamond Sharp song, it assures me I’m not the only music nerd around here who still remembers and listens to that stuff, and it’s gratifying to know this collection will be turning more people on to great one-off records like Mercury: Closest to the Sun, from which Bonnevie’s selection was chosen.

• Toby McAllister doing Skösh’s “Tall Grass.” It was only last week that I heard Skösh’s countrified “Tall Grass” and was impressed by this funk group’s musical range. Being impressed by McAllister’s singing happens all the time.

Discoveries

• Naythen Wilson. WTF? First we hear Wilson belting out Lisa/Liza’s elegiac “Back on the Eastern Shore” for seven-plus minutes. What a song and what a voice! Then Jojo Picone (origin unknown) covers Wilson’s gorgeous “Seraphim, 1965.” Again, both song and vocals are astounding. Cool. I’ll just visit Wilson’s Bandcamp page and dig into some past releases… Wait, there’s like 200 or more albums here, but luckily one’s a “Best of” compilation covering 2018 to 2024. I’ll start there. But hold on again — there are 135 tracks on it. Fuck me. Guess I’ll catch up with y’all in about three years…

• Million of Energy doing “Dirtbiker” by Buddusky. Mercifully, neither band I now must hear more of has an extensive discography.

• The Amoebas’ high-octane take on Jud Strunk’s 1972 folk classic “Daisy a Day,” as perfect and sad a song as was ever written.

• “Sunbeam,” by Sawdust, a late-’60s psych-rock band from Lewiston, covered by Mr. Vinegar, a project of Maine musician and researcher Thomas Bennett. How satisfying is it to hear a group like Sawdust rediscovered and appreciated again? Very, very satisfying.

• Nicholas Burgess’ wacky electro version of “Italian” by The Wicked Good Band. It’s about the sandwich, and provides a fitting coda to this compilation.

Delights & Discoveries

• Wayne Werewolf & The Howlers (whom I’ve never heard of) covering a garage-rock stomper by another legendary local punk band, The Pontiffs, called “Death Lookin’ Monster Girl.” Kip Brown is surely smiling from the skies.

• Psych-rocker Jeff Beam tripping out on the opening track, “Aquamarine,” by Laminated Cat, a group that either played Slainte two decades ago or I hallucinated that like an AI. Regardless, a really cool song.

• Intricate Mouse Work resurrecting “Shards of Pornography” by The Cambiata, a band whose experimentalism, complex orchestrations and go-for-broke vocals (courtesy of Chris Moulton) make them almost un-coverable. The Mousers nail this one and then some.

• Greenbriar’s “Ballad of the Perpetual Frontiersman,” a song by the old Geno’s metal collective Swamp Witch Revival that I either never heard or forgot due to beer and pot.

*A quick but beautiful aside here. My pal Neal Jocher, a veteran of several grungy Portland rock groups, recently told me an anecdote about Chris Godin, proprietor of Granny’s Burritos, who was tragically murdered in his apartment building three years ago. In the mid-1990s, when Chris started his fledgling business, he’d park his burrito cart outside Granny Killam’s Industrial Drinkhouse on Market Street in the Old Port — a music venue that later became The Big Easy. Late one night, broke and hungry as usual, Neal and a couple bandmates saw Chris outside. He asked them if they wanted burritos and they told him where they were at. Without missing a beat, Chris wrapped up fatties for all of them, no charge. He knew, Neal explained, that they were in a band.