Every Album I Love is a series where I attempt to write about every album that I love, or die trying. Sometimes I’ll explain why I love them, sometimes I’ll tell the stories behind how I fell in love with them, sometimes I’ll do both. Most importantly, I hope you love them too.

What does it mean for a band to be a side-project? The term has always seemed to be somewhat pejorative. The implication being that this song, this album, this band, is not to be taken as seriously as the members most important work. It’s just something that they are doing for a bit of fun, something ephemeral, not to be evaluated with seriousness.

Such is the lot of the side project band. If they’re lucky, and the individual members are famous enough, they might get referred to as a supergroup. On very rare occasions, the side project might surpass the original fame and become the main project. But in the main, the destiny of the side project is to be swiftly forgotten. Not forgotten by everyone though. For this is the story of the greatest side project of them all, Cadallaca.

Let’s go back to September 1998, a week after I had started at University. The year before I had discovered Sleater-Kinney, who had rapidly become one of my very favourite bands. I bought all of their albums (only three at the time), and was thirsty for more. I tried unsuccessfully to track down other albums that members of the band had been involved in (ironically Sleater-Kinney themselves started as a side project, with Corin having been in Heavens To Betsy and Carrie in Excuse 17 when they first formed), but they were tricky to find back in the days when we relied on record stores to have physical copies in stock, and obscure Riot Grrrl bands from the Pacific Northwest were not top of the priority list in my neck of the woods.

Fortunately another record was announced which might just fill the void between Sleater-Kinney releases, an album called Introducing Cadallaca from a band called Cadallaca, featuring Corin Tucker from Sleater-Kinney along with Sarah Dougher and sts from The Lookers. Not only were they a side project, but they formed at a party, which is about as side projecty as it gets, and my local record store in my new university town, whilst not planning to stock it, were happy to order a copy in for me.

I enjoyed the record, but can’t say I listened to it as much as any of the Sleater-Kinney albums at first. It could easily have been forgotten to me as it has been to so many others, but a funny thing happened. As time went on I found myself returning to it more and more, especially after Sleater-Kinney went on hiatus in 2006. I realised I was listening to it more than individual Sleater-Kinney album, more in fact than almost any album by anyone (with the possible exception of Pixies and the first Raincoats record).

It had become, slowly, one of my favourite records of all time. Why do I love it so much? Corin’s vocals are at their best, at times playful, at times yearning, combining perfectly with the Farfisa organ played by Dougher (I’ve always been a sucker for a good organ sound). Whilst you lose the intertwining vocals you get with Sleater-Kinney, the harmonies are delightful and more than make up for that. The songs are simple, direct and melodically perfect, and not a single second of a single song is wasted. Pocket Games is my current favourite, but at times it has been Two Beers Later and Firetrap and You’re My Only One. Really, it could be almost any track on the record.

Given that Sleater-Kinney released many of the most critically acclaimed albums of their time, it seems almost daft for me to say that I prefer the Cadallaca album to any of theirs, especially as I still love them too. Cadallaca aren’t even the best known Corin Tucker side project (that would be Filthy Friends, who might even qualify for supergroup status, as they feature members of R.E.M.). “The Cadallaca album is better than any Sleater-Kinney album” sounds like a hot take, but it’s not intended to be, it’s just how I feel.

I’m not sure I’ve ever even met anyone in real life who has actually heard the Cadallaca album, let alone loved it as much as I do (although I was pleased to find one person on BlueSky who is a fan, and reckons that John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats is one too (although this is unverified). That’s one of the great thing about music, though. They might have been a side project. They might have had little to no commercial success or critical acclaim. They might have been forgotten about by almost everyone, perhaps even the band themselves, who went on to release but one more EP before disbanding. But to at least one middle aged guy, who first heard the album 26 years ago, it is still bringing joy.