"If only songwriting improved with age the way practical skills do," muses Mother Mother frontman Ryan Guldemond. "It's hard not to look back and think your earlier work was better or that there was something in the air you could channel more purely thanks to innocence and naïvety."
If anyone knows a thing or two about the power of early naïvety, it's Guldemond, who in recent years has seen his band's earliest work embraced by a younger generation, with 2007's Touch Up and 2008's O My Heart becoming huge hits on TikTok, making Mother Mother far more popular than they were when those albums were new.
The Vancouver group have continued to have success by explicitly tapping into their early energy: their 2022 song "Hayloft II" has earned a whopping 303.8 million streams on Spotify (as of this writing), meaning that the sequel is more than halfway to catching up to the success of the original "Hayloft."
Their new album, out on Friday (June 6) through Warner Music Canada, is called Nostalgia — a sentiment that proves relevant when Guldemond picked his five favourite songs from Mother Mother's catalogue. "I'm sure there's some nostalgia — pun intended — biasing my answers," he admits, noting that his choices are based on "how emotionally hard the songs hit me, as well as their compositional depth and complexity."
5. "To Regret"
Nostalgia (2025)
This is the closing track on our new album, Nostalgia. It's sung by my sister, Molly, and it's very important to me that we have a "Molly song" on every record. Sometimes we don't, because one doesn't come, and with Nostalgia, it was looking that way. We were almost done mixing the record when, on Christmas Eve, I was at home and heard an industrial loop coming from the train tracks and shipping yard next to my apartment. I grabbed a guitar and wrote "To Regret" against the loop in a matter of minutes.
The song reflects the deep melancholy I feel during the Yuletide — a time when I can't help but look back and indulge in regret and revision. That energy is always so strong, and I'm really grateful it came through in a song. It's neat when songs appear like that, born from the environment and a strong mood. It's like they're in the room and all you have to do is notice them. And of course, Molly sang it beautifully.
4. "Alone and Sublime"
Very Good Bad Thing (2014)
I went on a bad date the night this song was written. We both got drunk and had a terrible time. When I got home, alone, I picked up the guitar, hit record on my phone, and just kind of spewed a long, mostly very bad, 30-minute improv. Much later, while going through my old voice notes, I found this tangent and had completely forgotten about it. I could tell I was drunk, and if it wasn't kind of fascinating to hear yourself express from that place, I wouldn't have listened to the whole thing. But at the very end, 30 minutes deep, emerged the small kernel that would become "Alone and Sublime" — a song that humbly and honestly challenges the virtues of romantic partnership as a superior life model. An appropriate theme to be born from a bad date. One of the most gratifying things in life is when great songs come out of not-so-great experiences.
3. "Happy"
The Sticks (2012)
I'm totally a bridge man. But if a song is lacking one, I become a verse man. All that to say, I'm not really a chorus man, and "Happy" doesn't really have a chorus. It's pretty linear; it just flows, part after part, and I love that about it. This song also contains one of my favourite Mother Mother lyrics: "Nothing makes me happy about getting off / Reaching for the saddest little cloth."
My father is my favourite wordsmith and speaker — it's like paisleys fly out of his mouth when he talks, which is actually how he describes it. I've always been in awe of his command of language, and it's had a big influence on how I speak and write. When I wrote that lyric, the first thing I thought was, "Ah, I bet Dad will like this line." And when I shared the song with him, unprompted, he pointed that lyric out. That was very gratifying.
2. "Ghosting"
O My Heart (2008)
This song took years to write. That shouldn't necessarily influence why I think it's superior, but it does. I remember being patient because I knew it was special and shouldn't be rushed. I sat with just the wordless intro for at least a year. Sometimes one chord tells you everything you need to know about having a great song at your fingertips. The whole Halloween analogy felt like a lyrical triumph, and I love that you have to wait for that part. It's a post-chorus that comes after the second chorus and is arguably the hookiest part of the song. Delaying it might seem like a poor songwriting choice, but the anticipation it creates is really satisfying. Knowing something you want is coming later and having to wait is a good feeling.
This song also has one of my favourite Mother Mother bridges. As I said, I'm a bridge man — I think bridges are beautiful opportunities to liberate and contradict the song. I took a long time crafting this one and figuring out how to access the key change via a modulating harp-scale is something I'll always be proud of.
1. "Neighbour"
Mother (2005) / Touch Up (2008)
I love the clever lyrics and bold arrangement of this song. "I got a tin can with a string through" is still one of my favourite lines. I feel a deep wistfulness when I hear it, contemplating voyeurism — not just of other people (in this case, one's neighbour), but of a better life; a life you can't seem to access yourself. It's about hiding, watching, coveting. The jazzy chords, flourishes and key changes are a direct byproduct of my time in jazz school. I remember playing the main guitar riff to myself before a rehearsal in the "jazz fusion" ensemble. The instructor noticed and said, "Just put some words over that and you've got yourself a pop song." I don't think it was meant as a compliment, but I took it that way. If someone as erudite and virtuosic as my instructor took notice, it affirmed the riff's potency for me.