When you feel like you need to open by defending the song you’re writing about you should also be able to defend your presumption.

“Things Have Changed” contains no horsemen, snakes, erasers, vampires, express mentions of Boston, inferences of Philadelphia, or asses. It will not cause a ten six year old to ask what “promiscuous” means, and although it features full-bodied, style-practiced singing, DJ Premier did not produce it.

Despite being deficient in any of the time-honoured staples of good music, this song does come from a unique talent. Which is ironic. David Myles sounds like three artists you already know: Paul Simon, Nick Drake, James Taylor.

Guess what though. That’s trendy right now. It’s the hidden, subconscious, Oedipus trend. It’s the reason why the Islands’ and Jens Lekman’s interesting records were exalted. They sounded old, sort of, reminding the twenty-something internet-inquisitive of either “Graceland” or “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover,” except with raps, or production that sounded like rap. Paul Simon is a great artist who wrote “Late in the Evening” which is why “Paul Simon” is a great song by the Russian Futurists.

Myles plays real instruments, like old Paul Simon. He plays guitar, like James Taylor. Sometimes he sings like Nick Drake. His vocal “stylings” are probably wholly unintentional and the result of hearing Pink Moon or Graceland too much when he was 8. You can envision his parents’ record collection by hearing it filtered through his songwriting. Either that or he was a sophisticated Grade 2 when I was memorizing the words to “Piledriver” by the WWF Allstars.

Now, the song. Which means the horns. Myles plays trumpet, and does so very well. He’s recently played trumpet for Buck 65 over the course of a lot of studio sessions in Halifax that I’m dying to hear, which sort of makes me hate Myles, but I will be objective. Where “Things Have Changed” is a very basic, bluesy, safe-for-television-because-it’s-all-in-the-way-he-sings-it mid-paced guitar and keys bar-fogger, the horns somehow simultaneously add a slight, “special” 80’s gloss while making the song fully seriously poignant, like the human oxymoron that is Sade. The result is some kind of distilled parent-pop beauty of downer. And given that if your parents listened to lots of Paul Simon and James Taylor, you’re probably in your mid-to-late twenties and doing your best to deny the fact that something like this has a place in your listening diet (he says “we used to joke about getting married…”). Just saying, it might be better to listen alone, so you can enjoy your past-future-nostalgia without, like, justification pretense. Whatever that is.

Also: if you see Myles on tour, ask him about the time he opened for the Rascalz. As a beatboxer.

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