Not in the mood for you

Andy Jans-Brown & Cameron Spike-Porter present “Not in the mood for you”

Monday June 8, 2026.

‘Not in the Mood for You’ is the fourth single from Andy Jans-Brown’s forthcoming

album Airport Departure Lounge.

Some calls you let ring out. Some go to voicemail. Not every call deserves an answer.

‘Not in the Mood for You’ is a buoyant, bittersweet indie pop-rock song about the

moment the heart finally stops flinching. It’s a break-up song, but not a wounded

one. This is the morning-after clarity; the point where the bruise has faded into

something you can carry, maybe even something you’re quietly grateful for.

Built around a chiming hook and an irresistibly forward-moving groove, the track

opens with an image as modern as it is melancholic: “A picture of you on my phone

is calling.” From there it drifts through a year of small hauntings; sleepwalking,

pitta-patta rain on a tin roof, earworms in echoes, and the strange sky-blue calm

that arrives when grief has finally been outwalked.

“And though that mess was full of beauty and colour, I could not take it any longer,

or I was a goner.”

Where earlier singles from Airport Departure Lounge lingered in the fluorescent

hum of emotional limbo, ‘Not in the Mood for You’ is the moment the passenger

finally stands when their gate is called. It’s the quiet decision to move forward and

stop answering the calls of the past. To stop explaining. To choose silence not as

absence, but as solid ground.

Because sometimes the message still arrives; just not where the sender imagined.

The song also carries the broader spirit of the album in its pocket. Airport

Departure Lounge began life as a break-up record of a different kind: a love letter

to a country, to a dream, and a reckoning with what’s become of both. While ‘Not

in the Mood for You’ feels deeply personal, that double meaning quietly hums

beneath the surface; the ache of losing someone or something you once couldn’t

imagine living without, alongside the dawning relief of finally choosing yourself.

“I’ve got a new tattoo, inspired by you, but your name’s not upon it.”

It’s the line that captures the song’s emotional centre: gratitude for what shaped

you, paired with a refusal to carry what no longer fits. Jans-Brown sings, “Love can

never be contained or chained up. And light will always leave its shadow upon me.”

Musically, the track is gentler than its predecessors. Still propulsive and

unmistakably radio-friendly, it channels the wry indie-pop sensibility of The Shins

and the wistful drift of Wilco, making space for something softer, understated,

bittersweet, and slightly detached. Cameron Spike-Porter’s cinematic guitar

layering threads brightness and charm through every hook, while Grant Gerathy’s

drums propel the song forward like a traveller striding toward the departure gate.

And fittingly, it ends not with heartbreak or revenge, but with a beautifully

ordinary act of moving on:

“Your call has gone through to my newfound silence.”