His band – which also consists of guitarist Sam Halliday and bassist Kevin Baird — is a momentous blend of youthful optimism, sensible frustration that these ground-breaking, click your heels days are rare and often spaced out wider than the arrival of the next Haley’s Comet viewing. It’s a kind of music that let’s us get to those triggers that we often forget about – the ones that feel as if they’re so arbitrary and so fickle. They are filled with an abnormal buoyancy – moments of concern and doubt that are leveraged against some great optimism. Trimble writes of the randomness of nights, the ways that they unfold or bust, shattering or looping the magical mystery, depending on the turns. He writes of those unplanned encounters in a way that makes you yearn to be young again. He gets us to that place that place where we encounter the newness of a person and see it as the most exhilarating possibility imaginable, something we’re willing to forsake sleep and sanity for. He sings, “Just keep talking on/Tell me your favorite things/Tell me your favorite things,” putting an emphasis on the intellectual fevers that stem from one of those chance encounters with someone you immediately fancy and who you sense feels the exact same way as you do. He goes on singing, “She spoke words that would melt in your hands,” and he savors that melting.  

Something Good Can Work – Two Doors Cinema Club