a nostalgic journey through love, loss, and the quiet beauty of holding on

old is new by the muster point project feels like an open road at sunset. worn-in but endless, where nostalgia hums beside reinvention. thirteen songs trace the complicated dance of human connection: the love we keep, the mistakes we repeat, the small hopes that outlive us. after years of quietly crafting, kevin franco returns with a record that feels both beautifully homemade and also cinematic. indie rock’s heart beating beneath americana skies.

born between calgary and santiago, the album holds the tension of two worlds – cold light and warm dust. there’s grit and grace here, held together by darryll mcfadyen’s luminous production (belle & sebastian, simple minds) and a cast of studio players who bring muscle to franco’s storytelling. the result glows with a classic spirit, like a mixtape passed between decades.

stuck in transit kicks things off with a grin and a grimace. a straight to the point garage rock story that spirals into fate and flirtation. it’s cinematic in miniature, words by novelist geoff moore, guitars jangling like passing trains. you lose and you gain slows the pulse, a tender cover of john bottomley’s 1995 song, letting space and silence carry the heartbreak. it’s one of those rare covers that feels like it’s adding something to the memory, not just mimicking.

then comes believe in yourself, the album’s beating heart. written for franco’s partner after a cancer diagnosis, it melts between eras – a dreamy 50s-style interlude before snapping back into present tense, like a life briefly flashing its reel of tenderness and fear. it’s honestly stunning.

you are my breeze is as literal as it is luminous: a love song to cycling, lifted by slide guitar and salt air. few tracks capture motion so naturally – the feeling of coasting through sunlight with nothing chasing you. ur 2 gud turns insecurity into texture, a surprising peruvian double flute haunting the edges like a ghost of devotion. two lovers circle each other, both trying to earn what’s already theirs. it’s hyponotic and we love it.

brand new day bursts through like sunlight after rain – bright, melodic, and hard-won. franco wraps his reflections on hardship in pure pop rock shimmer, a reminder that optimism isn’t naive when you’ve lived through the storm. forgotify hits where it hurts for musicians: a folk-rock anthem about streaming obscurity, chance, and the eternal house edge. every song’s a bet, every upload a hope. it’s wry, self-aware, and quietly anthemic – a gambler’s hymn for the digital age, and one of our favourites from the record.

Vinyl listeners get three quarters, a brief instrumental heartbeat in 3/4 time – the pause before the flip.

Side two starts with tell it to the night, a radiant pop rock confessional born from a child whispering bedtime secrets to the dark. it shimmers with background vocals and sterling laws’ impeccable drumming (olivia rodrigo, chappell roan). darlin’ blasts forward, part hard rock, part proto-punk, all charm. it’s a nashville fever dream – waitress smiles, progressive twists, and just enough swagger to keep you guessing.

looked good on paper follows with a touch of sly restraint, ebbing and flowing through indie rock’s emotional tide. sparks fade, illusions linger, but the melody refuses to quit. i can only cry lampoons the country archetype – broken truck, lost dog, runaway wife – but with affection rather than parody. it’s clever, catchy, and too self-aware not to love.

into the closing couple of songs, greener grass leans into americana shimmer, mandolin guiding a weary protagonist toward grace. it’s about learning that escape gets harder with age – and that staying put might be its own kind of rebellion.

alone again closes the main sequence, a folk rock elegy about betrayal and aftermath, the last cigarette of a heist gone wrong. on vinyl, the end of the album song drifts quietly away – a small, knowing fade-out, like a smile you only notice when it’s gone.

it’s worth noting that old is new also carries a family touch. the album’s striking design was created by franco’s daughter, isabella franco, whose inner sleeve artwork for the vinyl edition feels like the perfect visual echo of the music: warm, reflective, and full of heart.

in the end, old is new lives up to its name – not by chasing trends, but by trusting the bones of a good song. it’s a solid, stunning record that believes in melody, honesty, and the simple act of keeping the fire lit.

thank u for making this muster point project 🚲