June 13, 2025

Swim Into The Sound Turns Ten

June 13, 2025/ The Swim Team

As of today, Friday, June 13th, 2025, Swim Into The Sound is officially TEN years old! Since I just waxed poetic about the site for our 500th post a month ago, I’ll try to keep this short and sweet.

After going back and forth for a while debating how to best commemorate this birthday, I decided it’d be fun to ask the Swim Team what their favorite album of the last ten years was. We’re counting everything from 2015 to 2025, and because I’m a real dork with it, we’re also only counting the window that this blog has existed: from June 2015 to June 2025—the last ten years to the day. I’ve organized everyone's answers in chronological order (Thank you, Lillian), and we’ve got some fun stats at the end for the Heads (Thank you, Braden), so keep reading after the roundup.

Before we get to the proceedings, I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for being here; thank you for reading, sharing, writing, and supporting this little website. It means the world to me, and I am continually ecstatic to have this outlet to talk about the music that I enjoy and believe in. I think all the people you’re about to read would say the same thing. Thanks for ten years, and thank you for caring. As always, I hope you find something here to love.

Please enjoy this journey through the past ten years guided by your trusty Swim Team.

One Direction – Made in the A.M.

Released November 13, 2015

One Direction hated being in One Direction by the end of it, and in 2015, they broke up. They actually never formally did this, but they released Made in the A.M., which is the closest they could get to ending things. One Direction songs aren’t vapid, but they are vague, leaning into the searing Bo Burnham analysis, “I love your eyes and their blueish, brownish, greenish color” at their weakest. There’s always some love that they want but can’t have. Made in the A.M., however, feels uncomfortable in that structure. Songwriter and appointed Cheeky One, Louis Tomlinson, used that framework to craft a goodbye rather than their usual popstar mystique. Finality underscores songs like “Love You Goodbye,” “History,” and “Walking in the Wind,” becoming bittersweet letters to fans rather than their usual tortured, lovesick songs.

The whole album sounds Un-Direction as well, with a rounder, synthier, stomp pop sound, something that matched their contemporaries rather than their discography. I love Made in the A.M. for that weirdness, even that title —a begrudging nod to the fact that all this was recorded in the grueling early hours of the morning on their tour bus as they traversed the world without Zayn Malik. And then that was just it. A couple live performances, a lackluster rollout, no tour, and a promise that the band would come back once they were off a needed hiatus. Now, 10 years later, the band won’t and can’t come back, but in the words of One Direction’s final song, “A.M.,” it’s okay because “I'm always gonna look for your face,” and as a forever Directioner, I really will always look for them.
– Caro Alt

Aesop Rock – The Impossible Kid

Released April 29, 2016

After much intensive deliberation, I feel confident that Long Island rapper Aesop Rock’s seventh album, The Impossible Kid, probably holds the most emotional weight to me of the thousands of albums I’ve heard since June of 2015. Originally my #3 record of the year after its release, it’s a proof of concept that tastes change and grow stronger over the years, and an album you listen to a handful of times in a 365-day span doesn’t have to be confined to that timeline.

Aesop Rock has been my favorite rapper since 2012’s Skelethon, and when The Impossible Kid dropped four years later, I was out of college and living on my own, making the first real transition to conscious adulthood. While much of Aesop Rock’s lyricism is abstract and conceptual, this album is his most directly personal across his discography, referencing multiple stories from his childhood and tributes to longtime friends and family. Particularly the song “Blood Sandwich,” the second verse of which Aes raps about his older brother being denied tickets to see Ministry, deeply affected me. Hearing two of my musical loves intersect in this way resonated with me, as I had gone through a similar experience when I was younger.

Whether he’s criticizing the ins and outs of the rap world (‘Dorks’) or boasting about his cat (‘Kirby’), Aesop Rock shines on The Impossible Kid in a way that is so specific to this album only. From a technical standpoint, it almost feels like he’s still trying to one-up himself, like on 2023’s head-spinningly impressive Integrated Tech Solutions, and even his just-released Black Hole Superette. But to me, there isn’t a rap album that speaks more to nerdy, introspective, and emotional youths than The Impossible Kid.
– Logan Archer Mounts

The Hotelier – Goodness

Released May 27, 2016

In 2016, I worked my first full-time job as a residence director at a private college on Long Island. I didn’t live far from my alma mater, so I was in this liminal space of young adulthood, where many friends were still at school while I worked a day job taking care of people just like them. It was a year of transition. I was shedding relationships, beliefs, and happiness.

My constant was music. The LI emo scene was instrumental for me. I had left all of my childhood friends in the city to make new ones at college. We moshed to easycore, pop-punk, post-hardcore, and what is now called “mall emo.” Being away from old friends, I grew perpendicular to them and my younger self. I became way too into my head. I needed to get out of it and touch grass.

Goodness came out just over a year after I graduated college. I felt ennui on Long Island, in my job, in my relationships. I couldn’t envision a life for myself there; Brooklyn, changed but still mine, beckoned me. I quit my job over some bullshit miscommunication about my dog, and didn’t look back.

The Hotelier kept me company on that final drive back to my parents’ house. With Franklin the pug in shotgun and my life packed into the backseat and trunk of my Civic, I yelled “I don’t know if I know love no more” to “Piano Player” while I sped down the Southern State Parkway. I embraced agnosticism on “Two Deliverances,” meditated on “Sun,” and considered death on “Opening Mail for My Grandmother.” I mourned a forever-lost love on “You in this Light.” I felt that chapter of my life close on “End of Reel.”

Revisiting Goodness now, I bloom in gratitude for that time, for this album, and for my life.
– Joe Wasserman

Touché Amoré – Stage Four

Released September 16, 2016

It was brutally hot the day my grandpa died. I had driven to his house to say goodbye, knowing that this would be the last time. I clasped his fragile hand and smiled through the tears that burned like fire in my eyes, trying to memorize every painful detail of those moments. Afterwards, I dragged myself out to my car in a haze, sliding into what felt like an oven as I gingerly closed the door. The silence was deafening, and I couldn’t bear to sit with it. The only album I wanted to listen to was one that had already carried me through years of pain and grief – Touché Amoré’s Stage Four. The album is both sonically and topically heavy, tackling the loss of frontman Jeremy Bolm’s mother to cancer. My grandpa died from cancer as well, and as I watched him suffer and wither over the course of a year, I returned again and again to Stage Four. I found myself taking comfort from Jeremy’s words as my heart screamed that I, too, knew this pain. Dense and beautiful, each song soars to massive emotional heights and crashes into frantic, melodic choruses as brutally honest lyrics about grief thread through the entire record. I was fractured like glass on that hot September afternoon, but Stage Four pieced me back together.
– Britta Joseph

Bon Iver – 22, A Million

Released September 30, 2016

I was not thriving when 22, A Million dropped in September of 2016. I was living in a townhouse packed too-full of college dudes and scrambling to maintain a relationship that was winding down to its inevitable end. My undiagnosed scrupulosity (religious OCD) had reached a fever pitch, and I was functioning at peak neurosis, all atoms vibrating and neon.

I don’t know if any record has affected me so viscerally on a first listen. It might be over soon. God, I hope so. The new songs were beautifully damaged, everything pushed into the red, held together with desperation and scotch tape, as fragile as I was. While Vernon’s voice and the indie-folk-mad-scientist production were the first things to grab me, the occult symbolism and numerology proved genuinely unsettling; having grown up in a fundamentalist Christian sect, becoming obsessed with an album that quite literally takes you to hell and back was functionally my own bizarre, self-administered form of exposure therapy. I think 22, A Million is possibly one of the most influential records of the past decade, but I’m writing about it because it feels like it was made just for me. At the risk of overspiritualizing, its existence feels damn near providential. Well it harms me, it harms me, it harms me, I'll let it in.
– Nick Webber

Black Marble – It’s Immaterial

Released October 14, 2016

I sometimes accidentally Pavlov myself into enjoying things. Half a decade ago, I had one too many jumbo margs, promptly threw up on the sidewalk, then trudged three long blocks home. When I fell on my bed, I thought, “You know what would really help these spins? Some electronica from New York.” I don’t listen to electronica or anything adjacent. At least I didn’t use to. I fell asleep, and in my drunkenness, I looped the album and immediately lost my phone behind my bed. I was too uncoordinated to stop it from playing for eleven full hours (surprisingly, I wasn’t too drunk to plug my phone in beforehand). I woke up a changed man, with a newfound distaste for tequila and a burgeoning love for a genre I never paid much attention to before.

These tracks have been with me for most of graduate school, and I have memories—good and bad—for each. I listened to “Frisk” 27 times in a row, mid-Covid, figuring out a single statistical mechanics question. Black Marble conjures full cities and surrounding landscapes, using understated vocalizations that seep into and become part of their masterful, bass-forward, fully synthetic creations. Through years and mile-high waves of self-doubt, It’s Immaterial is the buoy that has kept me afloat.
– Braden Allmond

The Menzingers – After the Party

Released February 3, 2017

When I think about records that have had a profound impact on me over the last decade, the fifth studio album, After the Party, by American punk rock band The Menzingers always finds its way around the top of the running every single time. Introduced to me during our junior year of college by my best bud and all-around punk enthusiast, Avery, I was immediately arrested by The Menzingers’ effortless song structures, candid lyricism, Irish-Catholic sensibilities, and the way the band unapologetically exudes “Americana.” After the Party tackles the daunting themes of growing beyond your reckless years, facing a new decade of adulthood, and reconciling with the most regrettable aspects of yourself – delivering it all in a way that kicks my ass upon every subsequent listen, but always manages to keep me coming back for another round. As I stare down the barrel of thirty-years old just a month from now, I find myself coming back to the repetitious line “Where are we gonna go now that our twenties are over?” from the album’s opening track “Tellin' Lies.” I’ve never been more uneasy about entering a new stage of my life than I am now at the edge of my twenties, but I’m also holding on to this comforting notion that the party ain’t over. Even though ultimately deciding on my “favorite” album of the past ten years feels impossible, I can’t think of another album that so accurately represents those years, nor feels more ubiquitous across them than After the Party.
– Ciara Rhiannon

SZA – Ctrl

Released June 9, 2017

Ctrl came out on my last day of high school. SZA’s full-length debut is now regarded as one of the most important releases of the 2010s, and it is certainly one of the most important releases of my 2015–2025. While a lot of albums from my teens exist in one fixed point of my memory, Ctrl has wiggled its way into every moment of change I’ve found myself in since its release. It played in my headphones on my flight to college, on my walk to my first class. It played at a consistent, low hum that emanated from my bottom bunk. I’ve screamed the words to “Prom” in mid-summer euphoria, windows down, sun out, ocean in my hair, driving a little too fast over the bridge. I’ve had pensive, tearful sunset walks to “20 Something,” wondering if I was ever gonna get my shit together. SZA has a way of making the most specific of situations feel universal, of summing up a generation's worth of anxieties into a few sparse lines (“Fearing not growing up / Keeping me up at night / Am I doing enough / Feels like I’m wasting time” couldn’t sum up my existential worries better). I mean, “Normal Girl”???? It’s like SZA ascended from the heavens and blessed girls everywhere with the soundtrack of their early adulthood.
– Cassidy Sollazzo

Manchester Orchestra – A Black Mile To The Surface

*Loma Vista Recordings and Favorite Gentlemen*

Released July 21, 2017

I sometimes get emotional thinking about all the people in my life who have loved me, who have cared for me when I was difficult to love or self-destructive. I’ve made it so hard on so many people, but I’ve been loved deeply. I especially appreciate this because we live in a culture that seems to communicate that love is earned. If you’re convenient, if you keep the scales balanced, don’t take more than you give. If someone can use you or extract something from you, then you’ll be loved. But I’ve been given so much grace. What the fuck.

Andy Hull has this ability to write songs about people who are ugly and hopeless, but you end up caring for them and identifying with them and wishing them well. You end up growing eyes to see the lonely and broken people around you. The folks that seem to get pushed out from the middle of the circle. This is the sort of album that makes me think maybe we can all learn to grasp Each Other and grasp God and grasp Love and actually make sure that none of us go it alone.
– Ben Sooy

Amen Dunes – Freedom

Released March 30th, 2018

Freedom is my favorite album of the last decade because, no matter how many times I listen to it, there’s always something new that I haven’t considered or noticed. It’s an elusive album for me. I can never quite put my finger on what's really going on with it. Is it a mystical bent on classic rock? Maybe it’s a long-lost adult contemporary album from the turn of the millennium, a dark and beautiful companion that might slide into a radio rotation filled with David Gray and Dido. Whatever it is, Damon McMahon gets it the most correct when on “Blue Rose” he sings, “We play religious music, I don’t think you’d understand, man.” He’s right, trying to wrap your mind around this music isn’t the point. It’s not present in our realm for the sake of classification and dissection; it’s here for experiencing and feeling. If your senses have not been graced by Freedom, then I suggest giving it a go on your next road trip, preferably a summer one, bonus points if it’s along the coast. That’s where you’ll sink into its essence.
– Connor Fitzpatrick

Parquet Courts – Wide Awake!

Released May 18, 2018

Although released in 2018, I didn’t get around to Wide Awake! until 2020. Global pandemic, lockdown, nationwide protests over police killings. You remember. In the early days, it was a time to escape the rhythms of modernity and sublimate myself into the couch, subsisting on government checks, homemade mai tais, and Mario Maker 2. It’s there in my complacent crysallis that this album came like a nasty right hook to the spirit.

Dense with aphorisms both didactic and daring (“Travel where you are, tourism is sin” from “Tenderness,” or “What is an up-and-coming neighborhood and where is it coming from?” from “Violence”), the record, and its title track, serve as a clarion call to move and embrace and rage and shake loose the complacency. The record sounds like Parquet Courts, but their collaboration with Danger Mouse pushed their “Sonic Youth by way of Pavement” sound to new heights, yielding such joys as the 70s dance rhythms of “Wide Awake” or the pristine, soaring hopefulness of “Freebird II.” Part political polemic, part personal wound-bearing, each track on Wide Awake!, from its opening screed (the Tom Brady-hating collectivists’ handbook “Total Football”), to its closing track (the drunken bar singalong anthem “Tenderness”) the album is an anathema for alienation, a record that proves more and more valuable as time goes on. We don’t need any more televised killings or a global pandemic to shake ourselves awake. We’ve got all the tools here.
– Joshua Sullivan

KIDS SEE GHOSTS – KIDS SEE GHOSTS

Released June 8, 2018

In a lot of ways, KIDS SEE GHOSTS was the last hurrah of an era. Still years out from Kanye West torpedoing his career down the toilet, the 2018 “Wyoming Sessions” that brought sudden turbo-charged energy to the hip-hop genre with five weekly records from GOOD Music artists, including the legendary Queensbridge MC Nas, and even this group representing the friendship between Kid Cudi and Kanye. I reminisce about this time period fondly.

Cudi and West have a cosmic spirit within them that rises to the surface on each song throughout. They both bring out the best in each other, much like legendary actors Robert De Niro and Al Pacino do in the crime thriller Heat. KIDS SEE GHOSTS is only seven songs, clocking in at 23 minutes with 0% body fat. Together, they produce a psychedelic blend of pure, unabashed artistry at its finest. “Reborn” is a spiritual masterpiece of two guys standing at different crossroads in their own lives. West tapped into a realness and heart with his lyrics, but Cudi steals the show, sounding like he’s found the peace that has escaped him for his entire life. The “Keep Moving Forward” lyric could have been a mantra Cudi used during his own dark days. This song is something I listened to almost religiously, and have applied this phrase to my own life to this day. Tough times don’t last forever; there’s always hope on the horizon if we keep moving forward.
– David Williams

Gouge Away – Burnt Sugar

Released September 28, 2018

Gouge Away’s sophomore album, Burnt Sugar, is the sound of drifting bodiless through a life. It is the only album I can listen to when I feel like no matter how much I scream or cry or beg nothing will change, like when I can’t bear to get out of bed in the morning but have to get up because I’m out of sick days at work after I’ve used them all up on the countless depression addled exhausted mornings before this one, like when I’m a ghost, because no other album makes me feel less alone. This album sounds suffocating, like a hand around your neck as Christina Michelle screams of the ways she tries to stay grounded. If you need an album to keep you company, I’d suggest a whiff of Burnt Sugar.
– Lillian Weber

The Happy Children – Same Dif

Released June 18, 2019

Aside from some ambient essentials and recent Beatles reissues, this semi-obscure album (if you didn’t live in Minneapolis in 2018) has filled my headphones more than any other over the past decade. A decade of scrobbling doesn’t lie. The Happy Children were usually a trio, founded in the late 2010s by Caleb Wright and Mitchell Seymour. The group bubbled up with a mix of damaged art rock and the washed-out electronics that Wright would bring to his future production work. Their parting gift was a compulsively listenable, dynamic octet of songs, mapping the beginnings of dozens of paths not taken.

Same Dif remains a small miracle of experimental pop and marvelous weirdo rock about loving your friends, released at the crest of a surging wave of Minneapolis DIY music. For some strange streaming reason, the piano-pop closing track, “Bubblegum,” has 25 times more streams than the banger single with a video. It’s a pinball machine of a record, full of oddly hued lightbulbs, chiming jingles, and generous sound design; refreshing in how baffling it feels for the songs to get stuck in your head for days. The Happy Children ended just in time, precisely when they meant to, with a marvelous swan song.
– aly eleanor

Purple Mountains – Purple Mountains

Released July 19, 2019

David Berman’s Purple Mountains is the authentic account of a man with nothing more to lose. There is a lot of pain found throughout the album with songs like “All My Happiness is Gone” and “Darkness and Cold” providing little to no hope or comfort. Berman’s songwriting on Purple Mountains is vulnerable, unflinching, and blunt—the most straightforward and least obtuse lyrics of his career. There’s little room for interpretation with lines like "the end of all wanting / is all I’ve been wanting" in album opener “That’s Just the Way That I Feel.” Thankfully, Berman’s opus is full of his signature humor and astute observations to balance out the ever-present sadness.

Self-loathing is often met with incredible self-depricating wit: "If no one's fond of fucking me, / maybe no one's fucking fond of me" Berman states on "Maybe I'm the Only One for Me.” Punchlines and comedic scenes regularly couple moments of despair. “I nearly lost my genitalia / to an anthill in Des Moine” is a really funny thing to say shortly after saying “this kind of hurting won’t heal.” This needed comedic relief on the bummer numbers takes a break when Berman pivots toward the mundane. Scenes of snow falling or grief-stricken recollections of his mother are treated sincerely, resulting in perhaps his most serene and beautiful recordings.

The loss of love, God, and spirit permeate Purple Mountains, but penultimate track “Storyline Fever” (a top 5 Berman song, if you ask me) gives us a glimmer of optimism that makes the album worthy of repeat listening: “you got to find a way to make it work / 'cause defeat is where your demons lurk.”
– Russ Finn

Walter Mitty And His Makeshift Orchestra – Puddles of Alligators

Released September 6, 2019

When I was first introduced to Walter Mitty and His Makeshift Orchestra, I had largely outgrown my hardcore/mall emo phase and was going through my indie fuckboy college era. That said, my frame of reference for “indie” was relatively narrow, mostly guided by whatever my Tumblr feed was currently obsessed with: Mac DeMarco, The 1975, Arctic Monkeys – not necessarily “indie” in the traditional sense, but I took the feed as bond. You can only imagine how my world was changed when I learned of DIY culture through Walter’s music, how everyday people were making art while working jobs or going to school, playing shows at houses and garages, printing shirts in their backyards. I’m blessed to have been introduced to DIY culture with Walter’s music, which I still listen to over a decade later. Puddles of Alligators is a collection of B-sides and loosies, some of which are staples with the Walter heads, while others made their debut with this release (the backyard performance of “Mellow” went platinum on my YouTube, years before this collection dropped). Even in a collection of loosies, Walter’s sharp songwriting and rhythmic guitar shine bright. And knowing that it’s just a bunch of buddies making music together, without a studio or contract forcing them to, makes it nothing short of magical.
– Nickolas Sackett

Charli xcx – how i’m feeling now

Released May 15, 2020

At the end of 2019 and the start of 2020, I graduated from college, married my forever wife, and started my first big-boy job, all in the span of four weeks. I was working as a design engineer for a small company in a small Texas town outside of Austin. I was fresh on the scene and eager to please, which meant that once I was able to work from home, I was working all the time. I don’t remember exactly when I first listened to how i’m feeling now, but I do remember the shift that happened to me once I did. Before Charli, my go-to focus music was Frank Ocean’s Blonde and the soundtrack to Prince Avalanche. how i’m feeling now became a companion during the early mornings alone at the office, playing catch-up, and throughout the nights working from home while my wife was on a night shift. Charli’s familiar pop music sensibilities stuck me in the glue trap for the ripping saw-blade production to leave my eyes darting side to side, trying to trace its path. My After Charli Period has been filled with the PC Music universe, a massive amount of Whole Lotta Red, months of hard bop and free jazz, and whatever is playing on NTS Radio. This album is important to me because it marks a shift in my brain – a shift in how I see and value music. What was once a single-sided experience of sound waves hitting me now has the ability to be a two-way street. I realized that someone has to be wriggling around in that glue trap for the songs to really have impact.
– Kirby Kluth

Slaughter Beach, Dog – At the Moonbase

Released December 24, 2020

I’ve always loved the way that training lineage is tracked in Brazilian jiu-jitsu, providing a family tree of student/teacher relationships that directly connect modern practitioners like Mikey Musumeci to Carlos Gracie and the sport’s creation. Although Gracie passed away before Musumeci was born, we can examine this lineage and see how his impact was still felt through osmosis, with the knowledge the old master passed on to his students working its way down the line to those pursuing the sport today. Rock music doesn’t feature this same kind of rigid hierarchy, but I think it’s at its best when you can discern a similar sense of history from it. This is why At the Moonbase is such a special record; it’s the place where Slaughter Beach, Dog’s sound transcends the current moment and connects with the legacy of all the great singer-songwriters who came before it.

There are some more obvious sonic connections here—for example the way the spoken word delivery on tracks like “Do You Understand (What Has Happened to You)” and “Song for Oscar’s” bring to mind the work of Craig Finn—but even beyond that, the storytelling throughout the record calls back to the tradition of artists like Harry Chapin and Jim Croce (not to mention there is literally a song called “Van Morrison”). The album serves as a continuation of a bardic style that for so long has been a bedrock of popular music, doing so with a fresh sound pushed forward by Jake Ewald’s incredible arrangements. “A Modern Lay” is a masterclass in songwriting. “My Girl” does so much with so little. Not one bad song on the record. Thank you Slaughter Beach, Dog.
– Josh Ejnes

Porter Robinson – Nurture

Released April 23, 2021

Sometimes a record comes along at the right place and the right time, setting off a chain reaction that completely shifts how you view music and the world around you. It was the spring of 2021, and the northeast weather was starting to loosen its cold grip. I had just received the first dose of the COVID vaccine, and I began to see some of my friends in person again for the first time in over a year. Coming from someone who listened almost exclusively to heavier music at the time, the soundtrack of my reintroduction to the world came from a sonically unexpected place: a glitch pop album.

I consider Nurture to be a landmark record in my journey not just as a music listener but also as a human being. I found myself moved by Porter’s lyrical articulations of feeling alive for the first time and holding what you love close to your heart amidst a comforting blanket of electronics. It shifted my brain from a sizably individualistic worldview to a more communal mindset, guiding me to fully appreciate and support the people in my life that made me who I am. The record encouraged me to seek out more versions of this glitchy yet exciting style of music, leading me down the road of alternative music and eventually landing me into a more well-rounded musical palette. I feel indebted to this album for making me a better person and giving me the confidence to confront my fears head-on.

TLDR: If you knew me before Nurture, no you didn’t.
– Samuel Leon

Wednesday – Twin Plagues

Released August 13, 2021

Even though this prompt was my own damn idea, I had the hardest time whittling down to decide what album was truly my favorite of the last decade. At times, I found myself waffling between Psyhopomp, New Hell, and a slew of emo bullshit (complimentary). Ultimately, I wound up pulling Wednesday’s sweltering third album, Twin Plagues. I’ve written at length about my love for this record as well as this band, and it’s been an affirming thrill to watch this crop of North Carolina artists rise to worldwide indie rock prominence over the last few years. While I have love for everything that came afterwards, Twin Plagues will forever hold a special place in my heart as an album that helped me through a dark time and inspired me to find the strength to pull myself out of it. The true testament is that I can listen to the record today and not be dragged back into those depths. I still get swept up in the shoegaze crush of the opening title track. I still am mesmerized by the seesaw riff in “Handsome Man.” I still think “How Can You Live” is one a goddamn miracle of a song. Much like Sufjan’s Michigan pointed me to Detroit years before, when I found myself moving to North Carolina in 2023, I looked to Twin Plagues as a sort of affirmation that I was heading in the right direction. After two beautiful years in this state, it turns out I wasn’t wrong.
– Taylor Grimes

Alvvays – Blue Rev

Released October 7, 2022

I’ve been listening to power pop and indie rock for longer than I’ve known what either was. R.E.M. was the first band I ever knew the name of, and from that point on, I was raised on a steady diet of ’80s and ’90s alternative courtesy of my Gen X parents. I’d hazard a guess that the masterminds in Alvvays had a similar upbringing because Blue Rev plays like a crash course in the sound of the first twenty years of my life. The guitars alternate between a supercharged fuzz and the vibrant jangle that I fell in love with as a child in the backseat of a beat up Honda Civic. Every synthesizer feels handpicked to evoke a specific memory in my mind. Oh you like shoegaze? Hit play and you’re immediately hit with “Pharmacist.” Maybe you’re a lifelong new waver - that’s okay, “Very Online Guy” and “Velveteen” have you covered. If the R.E.M. shout perked your ears up, crank “After the Earthquake” up to max volume and then wonder why you’re still reading this instead of bouncing off your own walls.

All that would mean dirt though if it weren’t for Molly Rankin’s constant towing the line between wry wit and genuine pathos as both a singer and songwriter. In true power pop tradition, she’s able to wring both a laugh and a tear from her listeners, sometimes even with one twist of a phrase. On Blue Rev, she invokes heroes that range from Tom Verlaine to Belinda Carlisle to weave 14 perfect vignettes of loneliness, longing, and waiting. As someone who was entering their third decade far too used to disappointment, wasting time waiting for life to start, hearing an album I’d been anticipating for almost half a decade knock it out of the park was a near revelation. I’ve changed a lot in the two years since Blue Rev’s release, and my taste with me, but if I ever do reach back, it’s likely with Alvvays: all my favorite records and the boy I was rolled into one 38 minute package that ends with a dare: “Now that you’re around, take another shot.”
– Wes Cochran

Arm’s Length – Never Before Seen, Never Again Found

Released October 28th, 2022

This one grew on me in ways that growth is painful, yet cardinal. Akin to when you’re forced to accept that someone will never be the same as they once were, putting down your suffering dog, the bone-stretching growing pains while lying in your middle school bed at 3 AM. It feels like I’ve ached through a great deal of that sort of growing in recent years, in that same sense: that growth is often painful, yet essential.

What they don’t tell you about entering your mid to late twenties is the heap of emotional weight you suddenly bear as your frontal lobe fully develops, plopping all your demons and skeletons front and center for you to deal with amidst the rest of your shiny new adult responsibilities. Never Before Seen, Never Again Found found me tangled in uncomfortable growth, and even though it’s an emotionally painful listen, it’s completely necessary. The album is vulnerable in every way that I hope to be, airing out tumult with grief, religion, and identity. Arm’s Length crafted an all-timer in this one– a modern day Home, Like No Place Is There– with not a single skippable track in sight. This is the type of album that you put on at your lowest; to go blow-for-blow with your dread. It’s strange that we tend to listen to sad music when we’re sad. Perhaps we need to simmer in the sorrow and wallow in the bad luck before we can rise and ask ourselves, “Is it just my luck?”
– Brandon Cortez

Basque – Pain Without Hope Of Healing

Released March 22, 2024

When compiling a list like this, I am stressed. My favorite albums, even my favorite favorite albums, are often a moving target. Like a sequestered pond hosting a slew of migratory birds, the songs I become most passionate about are subject to climate, to season, to temperature. One flock leaves as soon as June hits 98°, another to arrive when a fall sunset triggers a wistful memory. So even though the last ten years have hosted an almost uncountable number of classic, iconic, and incredible albums, I am beholden to my obsession of the past year; this flight of fancy that has consumed me fully. And perhaps next year I’ll think myself insane for believing it, but the final Basque album is effectively perfect from start to finish. An unreal meditation on the agony of self-loathing, the album's lyrical despondency would feel too much if every performance on it weren’t a pitch-perfect match. With vocals that howl and shriek in perfect tempo, guitars turn on a dime while bouncing and wailing, a bass that hammers like knuckles to plaster, and what has to be one of the greatest drum performances ever put to record in this genre. Pain Without Hope of Healing is easily one of the finest screamo records of the last decade.
– Elias Amini

Swim Into The Stats

Hello, and welcome to the nerdy part after the article where we talk about STATISTICS. Think of this like the scene that plays after the credits–a fun little bonus for the real heads that want to stick around. This is a spiritual successor to something we published at the end of last year called “Swim Into The Stats.” While that article focused almost exclusively on 2024 in review, we are now shifting to look at the entirety of this blog’s run over the last decade. Thanks to Braden Allmond for wrangling all this data and rendering these spiffy charts; it’s a trip to see this website’s history condensed in such a visual way.

First, here are all the articles we've published over the last decade, displayed as a noodlepoint scatter plot with a different color for each year. It’s cool to see this rise (more or less) year after year as I began to take the site more seriously and also feature more contributors. It's also interesting to see my life in the gaps, such as moving across the country in the fall of 2023 or absconding from all responsibility in July 2024.

This git-style plot shows a grey box for every day in the last decade, and a blue box for every day Swim posted. It makes sense that Friday is usually spoken for, given that’s when new music releases and we like to be of the moment whenever possible. You can also see my commitment over the last couple years to not really post anything on the weekends.

Focusing just on 2025 for a bit, it feels like we’re moving at a pretty steady clip. Most of these are reviews, which makes sense, but I like seeing the interviews, features, and roundups strategically scattered throughout.

Examining the number of unique authors in this bar chart is probably the easiest way to illustrate how collaborative this site has become. Sure, it’s still me running this thing, editing and wrangling reviews, but it’s all the beautiful, lovely people above (and throughout our ten years) that have brought a wealth of voices, perspectives, and tastes to the forefront.

Finally, let’s end with some dessert. This delicious pie chart shows a breakdown of total articles by year. It’s wild to see 2024 taking up over a quarter, but other than that (and a slender 2015 and 2016 as we got off the ground), everything else feels pretty evenly split.

Finally…

There ya have it. Ten years of albums from our esteemed Swim Team, some retrospective charts to show off our growth, and a whole lotta gratitude on my part. I’ll just say it again, especially if you made it this far, but thank you for being here. I love music, and running this website is just something that makes sense to my brain. I gotta get this adoration out somewhere, and the fact that anyone reads this regularly, contributes, or cares in any way is a little bit brain-breaking to me.

Whether you’ve been reading for years or are totally new, thank you for being here, and thank you for helping us get here. Here’s to Ten Years of Swim.

June 11, 2025

Community, Solidarity, and Good Fucking Music: Liberation Weekend Recap

June 11, 2025/ Taylor Grimes

Any music festival that starts with a wall of death and a band smashing a guitar is cool as fuck in my book. Any festival where the lineup is comprised of mostly trans and queer musicians is powerful and inspiring. Any festival where the proceeds are going to a good cause and the event revolves around more than just getting shit-faced with your friends while loud music plays… well, that’s about as radical an act you can take part in as a music fan.

Liberation Weekend is a brand new music festival in Washington, D.C., billed as “two days of music and arts for trans liberty.” The festival was organized by punk band Ekko Astral and trans rights advocacy collective Gender Liberation Movement. The festival began as a kernel of an idea that frontwoman Jael Holzman had in the wake of last year’s election and materialized as a sort of Pitchfork Fest for trans rights, with all proceeds going to the Gender Liberation Movement. Featuring a knockout lineup of Certified Swim Favorites™ like Home Is Where, Greg Freeman, Bartees Strange, and Pop Music Fever Dream, the fest took place across two days on Friday, May 30th and Saturday, May 31st at famed D.C. venue Black Cat with afters at the tri-level DC9 Nightclub.

Long story short, Liberation Weekend was two days of incredible music, infectious energy, and communal support. I was on-site (alongside esteemed member of the Swim Team, Caro Alt) from start to finish, taking in a collective 20 hours of music, 22 different sets, and an infinite number of fits, smiling faces, and jumbo slices. We captured at least a little bit of every set on Instagram, preserved forever as a Highlight for your viewing pleasure, but also nabbed some pics on our trusty digi cam. Read on to see what the inaugural version of the festival was like.

Day 0: Solid State Books presents Niko Stratis' "The Dad Rock That Made Me A Woman"

On Thursday, May 29th, before a single note of music was played, Black Cat hosted a reading and Q&A with Niko Stratis that served something of an unofficial kickoff to Liberation Weekend. Stratis’ recently released book, The Dad Rock That Made Me A Woman, is one of my favorites that I’ve read in a long while and felt so immediately revelatory that a handful of the Swim Team writers decided to start a book club just so we could all talk about it.

An absolute masterwork in music writing, the book is a memoir-in-essays on transness, labor, music, and self-realization. Each chapter of the book is centered around a specific “dad rock” song, with Niko using songs by Wilco, The Replacements, Sheryl Crow, and more as jumping-off points to discuss transitioning and her eventual journey to sobriety. Throughout the book, I found myself awestruck by how well Stratis jumps back and forth between more traditional music writing and vivid personal stories, often dovetailing the two with an energy that enraptured and inspired me.

After Niko read a bit from her essay about The Wallflowers’ “One Headlight,” she and emcee Rax King (a D.C. local) played a round of “Dad Rock or Not,” which is precisely what it sounds like, as the pair ran through a series of bands for Stratis to determine whether they classify as dad rock or not. This laddered up to a key point within the book outlining the difference between a “father” and a “dad,” with Niko ultimately surmising that “A dad is somebody you remember.”

The night’s discussions also included a tangent on chips and bagels, thoughts on identity through labor, a condemnation of “coolness,” and advice from Niko that “if you’re going to get tattoos, some of them have to be stupid.” Stratis also had some trenchant analogies about how coming out as trans doesn’t fix everything, explaining it as being more like a circuit breaker where nothing’s labeled. On some level, it’s nice to have a fresh start, but you still have to put in the work to figure out what everything does and who you are trying to be. My favorite quote of the night came when Niko was discussing how to discover new music and said, “If you’re ever at a record store and there’s a guy working there who looks too stoned to be alive, ask him what he’s listening to, ‘cause it’s gonna be good.”

Day 1: Emo Music, Smashed Guitars, and a Flood Warning

It’s a muggy Friday in DC, and I arrive at Black Cat an hour before doors to bask in the pre-show calm. The lights are low, and the black and white tile floor is already cast in swirling green laser lights. To the left is a bar hawking a combo of whiskey and Narragansett Lager; to the right is a bank of pinball machines ranging from licensed tables like The Big Lebowski and Johnny Mnemonic to classics like Centaur and The Machine: Bride of Pin-Bot. Also to the right were tables for the Gender Liberation Movement, Transa, and the Trans Music Archive.

Before the day began in earnest, Ekko Astral frontwoman Jael Holzman took the stage to introduce the festival and explain its inception. “Months ago, we had a dream to raise money for trans people instead of against them,” she explained to applause from the already half-full room. Holzman went on to introduce the first band of the first-ever Liberation Weekend…

Pop Music Fever Dream

Taylor Ruckle holding shards of Tim's smashed guitar

A brilliantly chaotic no-wave band from Brooklyn, Pop Music Fever Dream kicked off Liberation Weekend with lamentations and bad vibes in the best possible way. Guitarist and lead singer Tim Seeberger wailed into the mic as bassist Carmen Castillo glared into the crowd, the attendees already throwing themselves into each other, an instant reminder that, after all, D.C.’s hardcore scene helped invent slam dancing. The fact that there was moshing for their first song signaled a strong start to the proceedings. At one point, Seeberger unfurled the mic cable and wandered to the back of the room, parting the crowd for a wall of death. “The fight doesn’t stop tonight, but i in t’s fun to celebrate,” they explained in between songs. After 30 minutes of primal howls crawling around the stage, PMFD ended the set by smashing a guitar, with shards of the sunburst Jaguar flying into the rapt audience. Helluva way to start things off. Read Lillian Webber’s interview with Pop Music Fever Dream here.

Greg Freeman

Next up was Greg Freeman, a Vermont-based alt-country indie rocker whose 2022 debut, I Looked Out, has been a staple of my musical diet over the last few years. Freeman was playing a solo set, just him, a guitar, and a harmonica, giving effortless folk hero energy as he played through hits from his first LP as well as his upcoming sophomore effort, Burnover. Earlier that same day, he released “Curtain,” a piano-packed barroom brawler that the audience was lucky enough to see in a raw, stripped-down form. Singing through clenched teeth, songs like “Come and Change My Body” took on a feeling of renewed meaning in a room full of people expressing their gender in a genuine and free way. Read Taylor’s write-up of “Curtains” here.

Pretty Bitter

After the no-wave freakout of PMFD and the earnest folk stylings of Greg Freeman, D.C.’s own Pretty Bitter swept to the stage, bringing big dance party energy. Running through older material as well as songs from their upcoming Tiny Engines debut, Pleaser, the five-piece strutted their stuff with confidence and momentum that got the crowd grooving in turn. Frontperson Mel Bleker commandeered the mic while Kira Campbell shredded guitar solos and Ekko Astral’s Miri Tyler and Liam Hughes held down the bass and synth, respectively. Behind them, drummer Jason Haze battered his kit, twirled his sticks, and stood up to hammer his loudest solos. To quote my friend Jacqueline Codiga, “The drummer doesn’t have one song where he needs to be doing all that, but I’m glad he is.” The whole set felt like dancing around your room on a random weeknight after finding out your crush likes you back. Luckily, we only have to wait till July to hear the band’s sophomore album.

The Ophelias

Not to say the bands before this weren’t getting fits off, but when The Ophelias took the stage in floor-length floral dresses, white platform heels, and long, flowing hair, it was clear a new bar had been set. Reveling in the beauty of their recently released Spring Grove, the Cincy five-piece enraptured the crowd with a set of lush, violin-framed indie rock. Addressing the world at large, then the thrust of the festival, lead vocalist Spencer Peppet laid out, “This shit sucks… but this is cool,” which was met with applause from the ravenous audience.

Pinkshift

I’ve been lucky enough to catch Pinkshift a couple of times over the last few years, and each time, I swear they get faster, tighter, and even more ferocious than the last. The Baltimore punk band brought immediate anger and urgency to their almost-hometown set, condemning white supremacy before ripping into “ONE NATION,” a song that got the entire front of the room jumping. Leader singer Ashrita Kumar is a force of nature, thrashing across the stage while their voice vaults from heavy growls to soaring high notes. The band and crowd fed off each other’s energy as vicious circle pits seemed to fuel the band’s bone-snapping nu-metal-esque breakdowns. Read Taylor’s write-up on Pinkshift’s breakthrough “i’m gonna tell my therapist on you” here.

Vinyl Raffle + Raquel Willis of Gender Liberation Movement

Before Night One headliners Home Is Where took the stage, Jael and Miri handed out the first batch of raffled vinyl courtesy of Topshelf Records, including the likes of Weatherday, Really From, plus some exclusive test presses. One by one, winners were called up to the stage to collect their wax, then the pair handed the stage over to Raquel Willis of Gender Liberation Movement, who had some choice words to say on the whole affair. “Even if you had a hard day, a hard week, a hard life… bitch you are here.” She went on to explain how apt this pairing is, stating, “It makes perfect sense that this festival centers around punk rock. Music and creation and punk [have] always been ours.” Willis continued with inspiring vamping about how we have to show up for everybody, shouting out the queer freaks and the gender fuckers. She ended on a simple note, stating to the packed crowd, “We deserve liberation forever.”

Home Is Where

In the months leading up to Liberation Weekend, there was one band everyone in D.C. was talking about. Conversations about tickets and lineups circled around one thing — “I mean, Home is Where is headlining.” When the Floridian emo group dropped I Became Birds in 2021, the album was an immediate shock to the system–rickety, electrifying, and invigorating for its entire 19-minute runtime. Two years later, the group followed it up with the even more full-throated the whaler, a tense, loving, and grotesque record about getting used to things getting worse. This year, the group pushed out even further with Hunting Season, a country-fried take on their sound that doubles as a love letter to their home state after members were forced to relocate in the wake of increasingly aggressive anti-trans legislation. Read Wes Cochran’s review of Hunting Season here.

Donning Dylan-like sunglasses and rocking the second harmonica of the night, lead singer Bea MacDonald explained these stakes outright to the packed audience, “Tilley and I had to leave Florida, and we’re homesick.” The group played through high points of their recent LP, including “migration patterns,” “milk & diesel,” and “shenandoah,” all of which were met with a thrashing crowd that emphatically screamed along to every word. I felt second-hand euphoria hearing “Oh, what a strange salvation / bong water transubstantiation” live. In one of the funnier bits of stage patter, Bea introed, “This might be the closest to the Capitol Building that you’re allowed to sing these words” before throwing to “the scientific classification of stingrays.”

Upon completing their set, the crowd was still ravenous for more, spurring a genuine encore from the group that saw Bea and Tilley take the stage, just the two of them, for a stripped-down rendition of “roll tide” off Hunting Season. It was a joyous way to end the first leg of the day, but not the whole day, because there were still afters, so off to DC9 we went.

Interstitial Migration

Situationally, Black Cat sits in the middle of 14th Street, a relic of a different time in D.C.’s music geography that’s now locked in by a couple of fratty bars, a beer garden that doesn’t sell hard ciders, and a Brooklinen. However, up five blocks and through a couple of neighborhoods, DC9 stands in a long line of bars and clubs, catty corner to the historic 9:30 Club and its subsidiary, The Atlantis. Groups of festival-goers walked on the red brick sidewalks from one venue to the next as the sky threatened to open again. Everyone was replaying what happened during Home is Where’s whirlwind set while keeping up a brisk pace to make it to Perennial.
– Caro Alt

Perennial

Because Home Is Where went a little over and it took a while to say goodbye to all our friends at Black Cat, we showed up a few songs into Perennial’s set, but the Connecticut modernist punk trio had already whipped the room into a frenzy. We walked in during the raucous “Up-tight,” which the group blows out into a call-and-response jam, walking into the crowd as vocalists Chelsey and Chad alternate lyrics “in the middle of the night / oh yeah, alright, up-tight.” The trio worked the refrain down to a whisper, and the crowd was more than happy to oblige, chanting along to every word until the group brought the guitars back out and turned things into an all-out punk party. Dressed in matching horizontal striped shirts, Perennial’s set was contagious and pure rock and fuckin’ roll.

ZORA

Introduced as “the transsexual menace,” ZORA took the stage as an indietronica duo with live drums and braggadocious hip-hop bars. After shouting out her hometown of Minneapolis, Minnesota, ZORA led a chant of “Fuck Target” after the company rolled back its DEI initiatives earlier this year and pulled their support for local pride events. Playing plenty of songs off her recent Get Better Records releases Z D A Y and BELLAdonna, ZORA offered a fun palate cleanser to the otherwise rock-heavy aftershow.

Um, Jennifer?

I was lucky enough to catch Um, Jennifer? a week prior, playing The Mercury Lounge with Eph See and Deadbeat Girl, so I was fortunate in that I knew what to expect. That is to say, a triumphant set of rock music helmed by Eli Scarpati and Fig Regan, who playfully trade deliveries between vibrant shades of indie rock. While Eli brings a buoyant, classic rock approach to his songs, Fig impresses with slightly headier songwriting that at times feels like a mix between Black Country, New Road and under-appreciated defunct Detroit prog-punk band Mover Shaker. Together, the pair is backed by Grayson Ellis (of Twinflame) on drums and Carmen Castillo (of Pop Music Fever Dream) on bass. Together, the four churned out effortlessly charismatic pop-rock bangers to a ravenous 1 am crowd.

With a recently released self-titled full-length behind them, the group rocked through a set of songs that spoke directly to transition and gender dysphoria/euphoria. Highlights included the Blondie-coded “Went On T” and “Old Grimes,” a surfy number with a soaring chorus about listening to Grimes before she did all that other stuff. There were times when Eli was flying across the stage, jumping from the bass drum, shirtless, performing with such zeal that I was reminded of a young Bruce Springsteen. Even the on-album interlude “Jennifer’s Dungeon” took on a cathartic new life when performed live, with the entire crowd finding release in the repeated wail of “I shaved my face for you, baby!” The night ended with “Cut Me Open,” a jumpy rocker that has been one of my favorite songs of the year for two years running. Read Brad Walker’s review of The Girl Class EP here.

Interlude: Merch Booths, Organizing, and Wishlists

By the time we emerged from DC9 a little after 2 in the morning, we were met with an absolute deluge of rain. We checked the weather app to learn that D.C. was experiencing both a flood and a tornado warning, almost as if Mother Nature was just as fired up from the eight hours of music we had just taken in. We ran through the streets and piled into a Lyft back to our digs in Adams Morgan, then proceeded to saty up until 4 am, wired from the day’s events.

This midpoint seems like a good spot to show off some of the beautiful merch and organizations that were tabling the fest. There was a little something for everyone: cool shirts and CDs, smut and stickers, zines, narcan, test strips, and DIY hormone guides, the sense of community stemming from the fest was reflected even in these booths.

While I’m breaking timeline chronology, I’d also like to use this space to discuss my personal wishlist for a potential second iteration of Liberation Weekend. First off, my mind goes to Jeff Rosenstock and PUP, two bands that Ekko is about to tour with this fall that seem like prime headliner suspects for an event like this. I also think Mannequin Pussy and Lambrini Girls would bring a hard-nosed punk edge that the festival seems to bend toward. Because I’m a Portland Boy, I also have to rep Alien Boy, whose loud-ass guitar rock tackles something universal in the queer experience. Just to round things out with some emo music, I think Snowing, Ogbert The Nerd, Swiss Army Wife, or See Through Person could all provide prime mid-day sets that would keep the energy high. Okay, enough daydreaming, back to reality.

Day 2: Local Legends, TRANSA Showcase, and Ekko Fucking Astral

Miri Tyler

Day two of Liberation Weekend started with Miri Tyler kicking off the Locals set at DC9. You can’t talk about DIY music in D.C. without bringing up Miri Tyler. Not only did she play in three sets across the 22-set weekend (all different instruments, I may add: bass for Pretty Bitter, drums for Ekko Astral, and guitar/vocals for her own set), but outside of the festival, you can find her at practically every gig and show. The first time I saw Tyler wasn’t actually onstage, but opening the mosh pit at a Bacchae show several years back – her love of music and D.C. is infectious, and the crowd she was playing to at 2:30 pm was giving her that love right back.

Sonically, Tyler’s project is jangly and a bit groovy – the song “Land of the Loaded Gun” boasts a phenomenal bassline, held down by Kira Campbell, which acts as the song’s center of gravity, much like a Yo La Tengo song. During the set, the trio played a new song with a fucked-up groove, then transitioned into an older track with more of an emo beat. Tyler wears her heart on her sleeve, and that earnestness is what this festival thrives on.
– Caro Alt

Fun aside. Just a short beat after Miri’s set ended, one of the vendors from the back of DC9 shouted, “If anyone wants gay porn, I have some!” Then amending their proclamation with “Trans porn!” What a beautiful festival.

Berra

I always find it kind of embarrassing when there’s a local act I haven’t seen three times yet, let alone haven’t seen once, but I had never seen Berra live until this weekend. Under the blue lights of DC9’s corner-set stage, Berra’s Roba Djalleta stood in the spotlight and began her dreamy set. The weekend happened to line up with the release of the band’s latest EP, Lover’s Virginia, which came out the previous Friday, meaning there was a plethora to celebrate. The crowd bounced along to poppier songs like “Guys” and swayed to misty tracks like “For Not You.” Djalleta’s velvety voice and the shiny band oscillated between the emo stylings of the Midwest and bedroom pop contemporaries like Beach Bunny. All together, it was a starry set, and I hope to catch Berra again soon. If any D.C. bookers are reading this, book Berra.
– Caro Alt

Massie

Right as Massie kicked their set off with an Interpol-ass riff, Kira Campbell came over my shoulder and whispered, “This band is about to melt faces,” and damn was she right. You know in cartoons when a band plays so loud that the amps start smoking and the volume dial pops off? That’s Massie. The group is a thrashy power-pop project shared between guitarist Emily Yaremchuk and drummer Sam Collings. Collings’ drums sit at the heartbeat of the band, thumping through Yaremchuk’s feedback and fuzz. Sonically, they lean into a bit of gaze and get a little Gladie. No matter what or where I see them – a library, a basketball game, or at DC9 – they always feel like someone lit a firework and threw it into the air.
– Caro Alt

Pinky Lemon

You can’t help but feel electric when Pinky Lemon performs. About as synonymous with The D.C. DIY Sound as anyone can get, Pinky Lemon normally sprawls across the stage with five members; however, for this set, they opted for a stripped-down version of their synthgaze. The last time I saw Pinky Lemon live, they were participating in a tournament called Mosh Madness, in which local bands soundtracked a series of 3-on-3 basketball games made up of local musicians. Their ominous yet dancy sound reverberated around the auditorium then as it did at DC9. While the setting was incredibly different for Liberation Weekend, the performance was just as in-your-face; they even covered “Love Buzz” with Miri Tyler. This set was definitely Pinky Heaven, not Hell.
– Caro Alt

Faith/Void

Back at Black Cat, I walked into Faith/Void’s set right as the NY rock trio were ripping into a cover of Mclusky’s “Day Of The Deadringers,” which brought me back to life. Their whole set was proper shouty down-and-dirty punk goodness with an undercurrent of jilted Gen X energy. The band’s bio on Instagram reads, “suckin dongs and smokin bongs,” and I’m happy to report that’s the exact kind of energy you can expect from a Faith/Void set.

Big Girl

After reading Katie’s write-up on Big Girl earlier this year, I thought I knew what to expect from the red-hued indie rockers, but turns out taking in this band’s show firsthand is something else entirely. The set began with all four members putting their hands together, then bandleader Kaitlin Pelkey proceeded to lie on the ground and writhe, slowly coming to life as the rest of the band gradually cranked up a swell of noise. Dressed in red tights and a sheer red top wrapped in a protective suit jacket, Pelkey is the ideal frontperson, equal parts iconic, theatrical, intimidating, and captivating. After shredding for one song as a four-piece, Pelkey shed their guitar and began to strut the stage, vamping, tambourine in hand while promising that select members of the audience were going to get that “biiiiiiig promotion,” lulling us in with the promise of “healthcare” and “everything we ever wanted.” The group proceeded to play through a selection of songs off their recently released DYE EP, and within minutes of their set ending, I was already looking forward to the next time I would be blessed enough to catch Big Girl again. Read Katie Hayes’ profile on Big Girl here.

Ted Leo

Ted Leo is a staple in D.C. music in the same way that St. Stephens is a staple of D.C. DIY venues, in the way that Smash! Records is a staple in D.C. record shops and the way that Fugazi is a staple in knowing what D.C. post-hardcore is in the first place (come on, it was gonna get mentioned at some point). Last year, Ted Leo (and his Pharmacists) took Ekko Astral on tour to celebrate the 20th anniversary of his anti-war power pop album, Shake the Sheets; now he’s returning to support the Gender Liberation Movement. While he was Pharmacist-less, he still brought the house down with his stripped-down punk songs and blood-hungry bite. If everything went according to plan, this weekend was already set to be historic for D.C. punk music, and Ted Leo’s presence tied the whole thing to the city’s storied lineage.
– Caro Alt

Editor’s Note: At this point, the battery on my camera died, so the rest of these photos are just from my iPhone, sorry.

Downtown Boys

One of the weekend’s most forceful sets, Downtown Boys brought raging punky vocals with a message to Black Cat’s stage. Led by Victoria Ruiz’s compelling, compassionate wail, the group ripped and raged through crowd favorites off Full Communism and Cost of Living, interspersing their set by reading letters from Palestinians and reminding the audience that we need to “do this collectively.” There were crowd-churning two-step drum beats, skank-worthy sax solos, and, in a telling move of solidarity, the mic was pointed into the crowd for the first time all weekend as fans screamed the band’s words right back to them.

Speedy Ortiz

Kicking their set off with immediate distortion and a heavy-as-shit guitar riff, Massachusetts indie rockers Speedy Ortiz brought their indelible pop-rock tunes to Liberation Weekend in style. If The Ophelias got the superlative for Best Dressed of Day One, Speedy Ortiz had it on lock for the second day. Bandleader Sadie Dupuis was rocking a sparkly rainbow dress with a hem like confetti, singing into a bright pink and blue Fisher-Price-looking mic while playing a green guitar with a tiger-stripe pickguard. Talk about fuckin’ style. At one point, in celebration of Gemini season, Sadie invited Ted Leo and members of Downtown Boys back on stage for a round of tequila shots. To close out their set, the group played “Brace Thee” off their most recent LP, Rabbit Rabbit, and brought the house down as bassist Audrey Zee Whitesides screamed the repeating final line “I’m fine!” sounding anything but.

After Speedy Ortiz’s set, it was time for the Transa Showcase featuring artists from last year’s staggering TRANSA compilation. Organized by the music production non-profit Red Hot, the compilation is an eight-part spiritual journey across 46 songs that brings together over 100 artists with a focus on some of the most daring, imaginative, and exciting trans and non-binary musicians working today.

Bartees Strange

While he’s mostly known for sturdy and eclectic indie rock, Bartees Strange’s solo set found the artist with nothing more than an acoustic guitar and a setlist written on his hand. It was a more solemn affair than the day had been up to this point; it only took a couple of songs for Bartees to transfix the entire room with his killer voice. He played through heaters like “Sober” and “Baltimore” off his recent LP but also dipped back into fan favorites like “Heavy Heart,” “Mustang,” and “Boomer.” With a tasteful amount of reverb on his guitar, the set was an absolute showcase for the breathtaking quality of his voice, even when his songs are stripped of all ornamentation and flashiness. At one point, after discussing how important it is to show up for friends, Strange remarked on the festival, “Jael hit me up about this festival, and I was like ‘yeah if you can do it,’ and look what happens when people come together and try something new.”

Asher White

Asher White was easily one of my biggest surprises of the weekend, a classic case of going in totally blind and coming out an instant fan. Part emo noodling, part indie rock dance party, Asher White is a band that truly contains multitudes. At one point, the group wound from a gentle, finger-plucked slow number to a sludgy stoner rock passage, then into a jumpy pop-punk blast, and finally slowed things down again. There were tight instrumental passages, fun vocals, and some of the best stage banter I’d heard all fest. At one point, White lobbed a softball over home plate, asking the crowd, “Anyone here transgender?” which was met with unanimous applause and cheers. At another point, she explained, “This is my first time in DC, and I think it’s skewed me because I’ve only talked to trans people.” Any band that can have this much fun on stage while rocking this hard is ace in my book.

L'Rain

After the hometown heroics of Bartees Strange and the rambunctiously high-energy Asher White, L’Rain opted to close the weekend out on a beautiful reflection. For half an hour, L’Rain sat alone onstage, equipped with just a mic and soundboard, and mixed a drone sound using archival samples from the NYC Trans Oral History Project. The set slowed the room down and magnetically pulled people towards the stage to hear the stories over the speakers. The crowd that had been frantically moshing just minutes ago was now sitting quietly, surrounding L’Rain as she crafted a spiral of sounds, dialogue, and looped noises. Some audiences treated the set as a meditation, closing their eyes and opening themselves up to the music on a deeper level. Looking around, some groups were deep in conversation, while others were engrossed in listening or wrapped up in each other's embrace. It was a beautiful scene.

Occasionally, L’Rain would lift the mic to her mouth just to breathe or hum lightly, adding her own element of live humanity to the soundscape. Even though I was watching most of the set from the side of the stage, it was unclear whether L’Rain was even vocalizing every time she brought the mic to her mouth. At one point, she seemed to raise the mic up and just smiled into it. Again, I couldn’t make out whether she was actively adding something new to the ambient swirl, but maybe capturing that smile in the moment was enough.

Pure Adult

The floor of the second story of DC9 shakes. While it’s not noticeable for every set, if the crowd starts moving fast enough, the whole room will start to move too. Over the years, I’ve typically felt the shake towards the end of the night in the final thrashes of the crowd as artists play their biggest hits. Pure Adult’s unruly set got the floor swaying in seconds. The room’s pink and blue lights have shifted to a sinister red as the night rapidly turned into a sweaty, jumpy moshfest. Frontman Jeremy Snyder seemed to take infinite glee in this reception, conducting the crowd like a demonic Paul Giamatti – complete with a grey mop of hair, beautiful stache, and a sport jacket – as he gesticulated, fist-pumped, and shouted repetitions into the crowd. Occasionally, he’d pass vocal duty off to keyboardist Bianca Abarca, who would throw the crowd into an even further rage with pit-spurring hardcore vocals. Behind them, the rhythm section was held together with a tribal thrumming, always providing a reliable groove for the group to fall back on. The entire set was hedonistic and hammy, with many beautiful moments where the entire crowd was moving as one, yelping in joy. The stage was set for Ekko Astral.

Ekko Astral & Friends

On the ground, the topic of Ekko Astral’s set was hotly discussed throughout the weekend. There were rumors about special guests, predictions for the set list, and anecdotes about the last time people had seen the band. The countdown had been on since the moment the festival was announced.

The final seconds ticked down, and Ekko Astral emerged from the crowd–frontwoman Jael Holzman on bass, Liam Hughes plugging in his guitar, and Miri Tyler settling behind the drums. There was a deep breath, and then the band launched their set into orbit with a cover of SOPHIE’s “JUST LIKE WE NEVER SAID GOODBYE.”

The pandemic is often cited by D.C. locals as a changing point in the city’s rock scene. Bands broke up, venues closed, and people left. When shows started again, there was a kind of rebirth and a longing for closeness. This is where Ekko Astral comes in. For years, Ekko was kind of D.C.’s best-kept secret: a band with a cult following and wild live shows that people always wanted to see again. Following the release of pink balloons last year, D.C.’s music community was finally blown open, with Ekko at the helm. Read Lillian Weber’s review of pink balloons here.

No moment in their set showcases this momentum more than their second song of the night, “TRANSDEMIC, BABY,” off their EP Quartz, which they performed with Sophie Fisher, a local activist. At this point, the crowd was well into hours of slamming into each other, but Jael, aware of the band’s rowdy live shows and even rowdier fanbase (dubbed the Mascara Moshpit), took a moment to remind everyone in the packed room to protect each other and pick people up if they fall. Once the crowd agreed, the band tore into “baethoven” and “uwu type beat,” with the audience singing the entire first verse of baethoven.

While the rock music is cool, support for others was the true theme of the set — a celebration of the profound love for their community that Ekko Astral feels. This is where the fun really begins: the special guest-packed “Oops! All Covers” set. With each song, Jael announced a new guest, shared a story about how they contributed to the festival, and dove into perfect covers of beloved songs, both new and old. Maggie from Tetchy and Em Rainey joined the stage for a room-leveling rendition of Mannequin Pussy’s “Loud Bark.” Tilley Kormony from Home is Where jumped on the guitar for Hanny Ramadan from Latchkey Kids’ roaring covers of “Dancing In The Dark” and “Constant Headache.” After a long “Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo” chant from the crowd, fest organizer Jo Morgan hopped on stage for a version of “Helter Skelter,” complete with Miri yelling, “I GOT BLISTERS ON MY FINGERS!” And finally, Ted Leo and Roba Djalleta reappeared for a hypnotic cover of “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac.

From there, Ekko debuted a couple of goosebump-inducing new songs, along with a rousing version of “On Brand” featuring Kait from Big Girl and a fittingly vitriolic chant of “FUCK ELON MUSK. They brought the temperature back down with a cover of Yeah Yeah Yeah’s “Maps,” then Mel from Pretty Bitter tagged in for a joyous version of Metric’s “Combat Baby.”

As if all this wasn’t enough, the set also included a surprise appearance from Bad Moves, who were introduced as “The Beatles of D.C.” Members David Combs and Katie Park joined Ekko onstage for “Hallelujah,” which the band introduced as a song about “how the state has no place policing gender identity.” They followed up with “Cool Generator,” and man, if you haven’t heard a crowd sing along to “Cool Generator,” you’re missing out. And I mean missing out. Bad Moves is ending this summer.

The night and festival ended in a fittingly cataclysmic way, with “i90,” the seismic slow-burn closer from pink balloons. The group leaned into the riff, cranking the distortion and playing it sludgy as fuck, all climaxing with a molten guitar solo from Liam. The set ended with Liam, Mel, Jo, and Miri arm-in-arm as Jael sang the song’s final lines, surrounded by friends and smiling. Joy.

Liberation Forever

When all was said and done, the first-ever Liberation Weekend left me astonished, inspired, hopeful, and energized. On a practical level, I was amazed by how efficiently everything ran, both at Black Cat and with two venues at play. On a more existential level, it felt affirming to be in such a supportive space where people were free to be their authentic selves and make it crystal-fucking-clear what they stand for. This support manifested in everything from pit etiquette and resources at the merch tables to explicit calls for trans liberation in the face of a government that is actively working against the existence of the people filling this venue and standing on its stage. To that end, the band has since announced that Liberation Weekend raised over $30,000 (and counting), proving that all of this energy and effort and organization was more than worth it.

Even as I walked around Black Cat, taking notes and snapping pictures, the energy in the room was palpable. Everyone was happy to be there, surrounded by community and taking in art made by people that reflected something about their own humanity. As an outsider to the D.C. scene, I felt welcomed, as if some of the transitive power of this event had rubbed off on me, and I know I’m not alone. I spoke with at least a few crowd members who remarked that they were excited to go home and make music, work on film or art projects, and troll Facebook Marketplace for a used pedal steel guitar. Part of that is just what it feels like to attend a good music festival, but also a testament to the type of space that Liberation Weekend cultivated.

At one point, I found myself talking to Nikolai Mather, a DJ, reporter, and man-about-town who had driven up from North Carolina with another friend just for the festival. One of the first things he remarked to me was, “I’d never seen an all-trans pit before.” I remembered observing a similar thing early on in Day One as I sat perched off to the side, sipping my beer, jotting notes, and taking in the crowd as everyone wrapped themselves up in Pop Music Fever Dream’s performance. The crowd of mostly trans and queer people was unlike any music festival I’ve ever been a part of, and that’s what makes Liberation Weekend so fucking cool. This was a fest by trans and queer people for trans and queer people in support of trans and queer people. It’s a reminder that there are more of us than them and that community is salvation.

In that same conversation with Nikolai, he casually dropped this gem when talking about trans people creating art, “It’s always been the heart of who we are. Art is the thing that allows us to create ourselves. You have to create something to prove them wrong.” I’ll be damned if I couldn’t say it better than that.

June 06, 2025

Re-Entering The Void: Interviewing With Sails Ahead On Their Debut Album’s First Anniversary

June 06, 2025/ Ciara Rhiannon

I’ve been fortunate enough to know New Jersey post-hardcore band With Sails Ahead over the past several years, ever since I found them in 2021 through their single “In Fear and Loathing.” It’s difficult to put into words the effect this band has had on me, but the lyrics “No act of god can save me,” which I have tattooed on my right wrist, do a lot of heavy lifting there. Over the past four years, With Sails Ahead has let me in on their creative process, welcomed me as both a friend and a fan, and even invited me to tour with them last December as part of the Rock Star Energy Tour. I've watched their catalog grow across multiple EPs and singles, culminating in their debut LP, Infinite Void, released in April 2024. The past year has been a whirlwind for the band, between touring and playing local shows, marketing their first record, and most recently adding their new drummer, Deirdre O’Connor, to the group.

To celebrate their first LP turning one year old in April, I had the pleasure of speaking with singer Sierra Binondo, bassist Jaime Martinez, and guitarist Joe Warner-Reyes about Infinite Void’s first anniversary and the process behind bringing their debut album into the world.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

SWIM: Thanks for coming, guys. It was really fun talking with pulses. and figuring out how I want to do all this. I'm trying to do really casual conversations with this series, and it just so happens that these first two also coincide with anniversaries.

Before we jump in, what is everybody listening to right now?

JOE: I got nothing good. I mean it's the same old.

SWIM: Closure? [Laughs]

JOE: Closure In Moscow. [Laughs]

SIERRA: I love them. I could stand to listen to them more. I loved the Audiotree, it blew my mind.

JAIME: That's one of the best Audiotrees for sure.

I've been listening to a lot of the Snooze record. I really enjoy it, just really visceral math rock. The guitar tones are really punchy in a very cool way. I'm on my K-pop fix again. That’s all I’m listening to in the car.

SWIM: Sierra’s a bad influence.

[All laugh]

SIERRA: I looked at my [Spotify] Wrapped last year, and it was like 75% K-pop. I'm like, “Oh my god, I need to listen to more music!” And what's happening is that it ends up being half K-pop still, because of my gym playlist, but then the other half, I've been really branching out into a lot of different stuff. I've been going back to a lot of 90s pop lately. Janet Jackson and Christina Aguilera. Also the new Snooze record. I recently went through and listened to Kero Kero Bonito ‘cause I was like, “Wow, I could really stand to know more of their discography.” Louie Zong is an artist I love who does music across whatever genres he wants, basically. He's very prolific.

SWIM: Yeah, something I was talking to Kevin and pulses. about was how most people aren't listening to five albums a day and constantly churning through new music. Most people are breaking down one or maybe two new releases a week, and then just going back to old favorites or only listening to music a couple of times a week, but not regularly. It's something I give myself a hard time about, but realistically, I do a lot of my music listening in the shower. Being able to have that moment where I'm not doing anything else and have a good half hour to listen to something. It's hard to do a lot of dedicated listening for sure.

SIERRA: Absolutely. I don't listen to podcasts anymore because I don't commute to work. When I'm working at a desk, I struggle to listen intently to anything. It’s gotta be like lo-fi or instrumental video game music. I won't be able to fully enjoy what's happening. I remember when the new Coheed album came out, I really enjoyed it, but most of my listening was at my work desk, and I could not describe that album to you with a gun to my head.

SWIM: One of my colleagues at Swim was talking about how good the new Japanese Breakfast album was and I could assume that it would fit the vibe of a cafe, so I threw it on today while I was working and it was the same thing where I'm registering some cool things, but obviously not doing very conscious listening. I kind of cheat that way; if something is a little bit more palatable or slower or accessible, I'll throw it on at work when I have an opening shift or I'm the only one working and can control the music.

SWIM: Infinite Void is celebrating its one-year anniversary this month. How are y’all feeling about that?

JAIME: I honestly can't believe it's been a year already. And Joe has Twizzlers to celebrate the one-year anniversary. Infinite Twizzlers. [Laughs]

JOE: I love chewing on plastic.

SIERRA: When you think about it, plastic is in everything we consume.

SWIM: Twizzlers are macroplastics.

[All laugh]

SIERRA: Ahh, it’s so weird. Weird is the principal feeling for me. I'm glad we released it when we did, ‘cause it felt like we had most of the year to push this album. I don't know what it is, but when the calendar year flips and it's a new year, I do compartmentalize and pack away anything I experienced in 2024 and leave it there. It also feels like it wasn't enough time, you know what I mean? Album cycles have changed so much. That was also a chapter of our lives. So, it's weird to say that's a year away now. Like, “Oh my god, when did we jump out of that?” I never really wanted to, but time just happens.

SWIM: Yeah, absolutely. When I asked pulses. about Speak It Into Existence turning five, David was so serious, like “Fastest five years of my life.” It's just a fucking vacuum. Post-COVID, even one year just compresses way down. I don't feel like Infinite Void came out a year ago. That’s insane.

JAIME: In a lot of ways, the album cycle still seems fresh to me, even though it has been a year.

SWIM: Album cycles never end.

SIERRA: They just stack.

JOE: I'm ready to start promoting Infinite Void. That’s what it feels like.

[All laugh]

SWIM: Give everybody a year to kind of feel it out by themselves, and now I really wanna push this record.

SIERRA: I am so stoked to announce we're now promoting our record.

JOE: I feel like I still have motivation to do stuff, you know? The tabs are coming out soon. Having just done that makes it kind of fresh. I want to record videos for all of the songs. It still feels fresh, even though it's a year old.

JAIME: And also for us to start playing some of our other songs that we have yet to play live from the record. There's plenty of stuff that we still have yet to debut live. That'll be a lot of fun to switch things up and get people to hear some of the tunes that maybe people haven't heard as much as “Darting Eyes” or “Swear Words.”

SWIM: Absolutely. I forgot, have you guys debuted “Peach Tea (Obituary)” yet, or are you doing it on this next tour?

JAIME: We did play it in Brooklyn in November, I believe. So that was the first time we played it, but we haven't played it since.

SWIM: Cool. You can save it for a tour that I can attend, and I'll be so happy. You got the t-shirt and that's fine.

Are there songs that, a year later, have flipped for you or sound new to you?

JOE: Playing “Catastrophe” live is super cool, because there are certain things on the recording that, because of how it was mixed, it's not like how it sounds live. It's cool to hear it live and have it be different from how it sounds on the recording.

SWIM: One of the great things about listening to music live is the way that the band or the artist is interpreting it, and it'll never be the exact same, hopefully, as it is on the recorded version.

SIERRA: I guess I shouldn't be surprised that everyone loves hearing “what if i fall,” everyone loves that one. And because of how much it’s been demanded, I don't love it less, but I'm like, “What about all the other stuff on the album? Do you guys not like this stuff? You just want this one?” [Laughs]

SWIM: Right. You have the singles that obviously people are more aware of, and then you have the immediately popular ones. So that leaves a small chunk of songs that you're like, ‘Well, what about these guys?’ [Laughs]

SIERRA: Yeah, exactly. I was really hoping people would take to “Oblivion,” ‘cause that's a direction I would like to explore some more. I mean the world’s our oyster, we're going to do a lot of stuff, but I thought people would be into that one because it's more thrashy and darker.

SWIM: Well, that's why you attached it to “Y.E.R. (Your Eternal Ring),” right? You were like, “What if it plays into ‘Oblivion?’ Oops.” [Laughs]

I think it's a banger. I mean, obviously, I think the whole record is a banger, but I think “Oblivion” is definitely an underrated one for sure.

SIERRA: Thank you. What I was really delighted by was that we sequenced the album in a way where the more mellowed-out songs were in the middle, and there was an intermission. I don't have to explain it to you, but this weird corner of music we're in has certain preferences, and they don't like it when you stray too far outside the box. I love that the record is so varied. I love that it has different moods. So, we were like, “All right, let's smack it in the middle and see what happens,” and a lot of people love those songs, like “Peach Tea” and “Picture Perfect Pixels.” I was waiting to see how people reacted, but I was very pleased with that, and it surprised me in a way. I was confident, but also like, “I don't understand the common listener anymore – and then everyone also jives. Awesome.”

SWM: The kids are alright.

SWIM: Obviously, it was your first record, a lot went into it. Sierra, you’ve mentioned in the past that it was a lot of stress, and it consumed your whole life until it was released. What did you learn from Infinite Void that you can apply to new releases and LP two?

JAIME: For this next batch of recordings, whether it be LP two or something else, it's just going to be a more refined approach to what we did for Infinite Void. We've recorded with each other for quite a long time, so we know how we work together. I'd like to think that the process will just continue to be more streamlined. We know what to prepare for a little better.

JOE: Going into the new batch of songs, I think, regardless of how Infinite Void turned out, we just wanna do what we want and play what we love. Not let song plays or numbers affect what we want to do. We're just going to do what we love and do what we feel like.

SIERRA: To Jaime’s point, a lot of the songs that went on Infinite Void were not jammed in real life before we recorded them. It was straight from Guitar Pro to the session, and we learned a huge lesson. Maybe there's a way to do that where you don't run into what we ran into. We discovered that things took up the same space in the stereo field, or there were phase issues with certain riffs, things of that nature. So, we are trying to ensure that we incorporate everything in real life before tracking it, just to make sure if there’s anything we want to take out. Things that we could improve while we have the chance, before committing to them on recording.

To Joe’s point, a lot of these songs are the best shit we've ever written and I did feel insane when we dropped this record and everyone just kind of turned over a new page the following week. This is what people are talking about when they say that no one’s attention span is there anymore. We had some plans to promote in the weeks following, but we were on tour!

JAIME: Literally the week after.

SIERRA: That was the first time we've ever toured a record. I just felt insane, because we had very high hopes for this record. I don't like to send demos or anything to anybody anymore, because I just don't want to hear anything in the interim where it's like, ‘Oh, the recording is done, but you can't change anything now that this person has had this lukewarm response.’ The thing was, a lot of people we know didn’t have lukewarm responses, so we were like, “Maybe we have something here. People keep telling us.” I did not set realistic expectations, but I also burned myself out trying to promote this record.

Something I learned that I will take with me is that no matter who you are, you have everybody's attention for a week. If you are strategic enough, you can expand that to three weeks. I've watched amazing records get brushed over in the last five years, and the reality is that people are just going to move on. It’s a law of nature at this point. I wish that I didn't drive myself so insane. I would probably be more strategic in that. Hit it really fucking hard and plan for three weeks of bullshit spamming people with and then just disappear. It doesn't matter, and in a way, saying that is kind of freeing.

SWIM: There's a beauty in relinquishing that pressure and responsibility. That’s the thing with the digital age and all of us having all recorded music at our fingertips all the time. That, along with the idea that something is considered outdated even if it's only a year old. If someone found Infinite Void now there would be some motherfucker out there saying, “Oh, it's from last year? Why are you listening to that?” The kinds of people who are only listening to what’s new, which is insane to me. Especially because, like you were saying, Sierra, I've been going back to a lot of 90s and early 00s stuff, and it's still there. It's still good. They're still going to make money off of it if I actually buy it. You guys can still reach people, and people will still be finding the record.

There's so much pressure to hang on to that initial attention span and get those jingly keys as long as possible for people, but now more than ever, there is freedom in letting people move on, and trusting that they'll come back to it. I do it all the time. There's something to be said about celebrating something when it's being released, being excited about it, being proud of it, getting that well-deserved attention for however long you can, but it's still out. People can still listen to it. You guys are still jamming those songs, obviously. You'll still attract new people all the time who find it.

SIERRA: Yeah, that’s true

SWIM: Is there anything that you guys didn't get around to on Infinite Void, or are you starting from scratch material-wise on the next release?

JOE: More sonic textures. More ambiance. Different sounds, production styles. Incorporating elements from different genres. Production specifically – including synths, percussion, different elements like that. I want to add vibraphone to a song. Stuff that would obviously have to be recreated with a plugin, but still.

SWIM: Speaking of percussion, you guys just got a new drummer, which is super exciting. How's it been bringing Dee into the fold?

SIERRA: She has been ready since frame one. Really, we just tell her what to learn.

JAIME: I've been just amazed since day one that we jammed with her. She knew all the tunes, and maybe there were very tiny notes, maybe a few things, but I was all for it. I was ready to just give her the drummer job right then and there.

SIERRA: We've known her for years. Joe's known her the longest out of all of us. I mean, Ciara you know her from American Stereo, right? She was in a metal band before that, too. It's one of those things where we had another drummer for so long that we didn't know who would've possibly been interested. She was like, “Yeah, I always thought it would've been cool to play with you guys, I had to jump at the opportunity,” and she really is the best person for the job. She has experience playing multiple different genres of music. Math rock, metal, and punk. All these areas that our music sort of touches. She's very creative. I love the way she plays the “Catastrophe” outro live. I'm very excited for people to see that at shows, because she puts her own spin on it.

JAIME: People are in for a treat when we play catastrophe live with Dee. It's going to be sick.

SIERRA: She learned everything so fast. It's crazy.

SWIM: That's awesome. I think a lot of the time, when people think about the identity of a band, maybe they think about the front person. That is, if the front person leaves or changes, it's either the end of the band or a huge change. But when a bassist or drummer changes, people don't register it the same. I think with you guys and Dee, it's very exciting to see how she's going to interpret the material she didn't write and put her own spin on it. This is a new era for you guys. You are such an instrumental band and every piece of With Sails Ahead, especially on Infinite Void, fucking hits, so I'm excited to hear what Dee does with it and how she puts her own identity on it, too.

JAIME: In a way, that'll help breathe some new life into the Infinite Void tunes as well.

SWIM: Absolutely. Well, thank you guys for hanging out and chatting about Infinite Void! Do you have any last thoughts on the album turning one? About the album in general? Anything you guys want to plug?

JAIME: Well, for me, all I can say is that ever since I started to pick up the bass and wanted to be in a band, the first thing I ever wanted to do was be on a full-length record. So, Infinite Void was the dream right there. This record will always have that space in my heart. I'll never forget this record.

JOE: Infinite Void was the first album I produced in full. It was a really cool experience, and I learned a lot. I'm excited for the future and being able to apply what I learned from Infinite Void to the next step.

SIERRA: I'm not even exaggerating when I say that releasing Infinite Void to me was bigger than my high school and college graduations. I’ve always dreamt of releasing a full-length album, and when you dream of that as a kid, you can't really predict what that's going to look like. I had the best possible first album experience of my life because of my bandmates. We felt so embarrassed for so long, ‘cause it was taking forever, but even though Infinite Void was a small moment for a lot of people, it was a massive chapter of my life, because it wasn't just everything that happened to each of us while we were making the record and all the things that the record is written about. We took our time with it. We actually got to enjoy the album writing process.

This is the case with a lot of things in life; you can't enjoy the slow burn. Everything is go, go, go. Fast turnaround. How quickly can you make a new song and stay relevant? Of course, you don't have to play the game. I have to remind myself of this often. I fucking fell off of making TikTok videos. I've fallen off on a lot of things, 'cause I learned that the world's still going to turn and I need to just breathe. Infinite Void is never going to leave me, ‘cause I learned so much. So much of it stays with me, but part of me is ready to move on to the next thing. I hope people still find it all the time and I want to give it its flowers as much as I can while we're not promoting some other bullshit.

[All laugh]

SWIM: Totally. Well, thank you all again so much for doing this! Love y’all so much and I’m excited to see what’s next for the band!

Ciara Rhiannon (she/her) is a pathological music lover writing out of a nebulous location somewhere in the Pacific Northwest within close proximity of her two cats. She consistently appears on most socials as @rhiannon_comma, and you can read more of her musical musings over at rhiannoncomma.substack.com.

May 30, 2025

Keep – Almost Static | Album Review

May 30, 2025/ Samuel Leon

Recently, I’ve made a resolution to get out of my apartment and go see more movies. It's been a drought so far this year, with my second-to-last entry being A Minecraft Movie, during which an eight-year-old screamed “CHICKEN JOCKEY” directly into my left ear. Beyond that, last week’s viewing of The Weeknd’s Hurry Up Tomorrow left much to be desired in terms of storytelling, character development, and overall positivity in a moviegoing experience. The only bright spot has been watching the latest season of Black Mirror with my roommate, which certainly isn’t providing the “magic” that Nicole Kidman touts at AMC. These episodes, which may as well be movies with how long some of them are, feel beyond dystopian, more akin to a pale imitation of reality, which is even more terrifying.

This dread has begun to infiltrate my listening habits; whenever I end up breaking out my speakers, I've been bumping a lot of heavier, more anguish-filled music across all genres. That new Deafheaven record may be quite charming in its execution, but certainly not in its subject matter. This must've been part of the reason why I felt a gravitation towards Keep when I heard their newest record, Almost Static, was coming out soon, why I didn’t hesitate to give it a listen, and more importantly, how I remembered the band’s ease towards cultivating a dark atmospheric texture from the moment you press play.

The Virginia-based group has become a vital player in this current wave of heavier, distorted guitar-centric music, commonly falling under the now all-encompassing moniker of shoegaze. Their sound feels quite adjacent to contemporaries such as Gleemer, Downward, and the now shoegaze-synonymous heavyweight julie, along with some of the more crushing grunge aspects that have evolved in the wake of this renaissance, akin to work from bands like Soul Blind, Bleed, and a new favorite of mine, Present. My history with Keep dates back to 2023, when they released their full-length record, Happy In Here. Tracks such as “Dasani Daydream” and “Start to Wonder” immediately stood out to me through their simultaneous senses of excitement and dread, thanks to the ghastly guitar tones and textures, but also due to the spine-tingling album cover depicting a spiky lime-green toothbrush in the interior of someone’s mouth from the perspective of a uvula. Maybe that’s what people with the cilantro gene feel whenever they put the coriander plant in their mouth. Regardless, I never have a great time looking at the record’s cover, and maybe that’s the point. In comparison, the miniatures that make up the cover of Almost Static feel like they came straight out of the opening scene of Inland Empire, thanks to the cataclysmic destruction depicted by the miniature plastic and metallic structures.

To get this out of the way, calling Almost Static strictly a shoegaze album would be doing the record a disservice. Most, if not all, of the songs on this album can be attributed to certain strains of alternative rock, but they don't feel particularly indebted to genre heavyweights like my bloody valentine or Slowdive. That’s not to say you won’t get those beautiful yet dismal walls of sound. In fact, you get them right off the bat with opener “Fun Facts,” a track with lyrics bringing together some of the darker aspects of the quartet’s songwriting style, sitting in between hazy guitars and otherworldly keyboards. The following “Smile Down (Into Nothing)” amplifies the unease even further, with almost unintelligible vocals serving as the chorus. For the Glare heads reading this right now, this is the exact song I will point you to, as the guitar tones feel quite reminiscent of their work on Sunset Funeral.

Part of the decision to sideline the vocals is due to the nature of shoegaze music as a genre, but for Keep in particular, there’s the added responsibility of drums for vocalist Nick Yetka. There's a unique opportunity to let your vocals blend into the swirl of noise while you focus on the drums. Plus, that frees up all the other instruments to take on that added creative expression. You can hear the effects of this freedom in all the sonic elements at play in the album’s second single and closer, “Hurt a Fly,” which sees the band run across the finish line with washed-out vocals melding perfectly with heavier guitars once again. You can almost see the band members looking at their pedalboards while you listen to this song, as well as Yetka zeroing in on his drums while letting his voice run wild.

There’s also a sense of Keep’s signature sorrow coming from the track “New Jewelry,” with drummer and vocalist Nick Yetka screaming, “Cause if you see me, you should let me go” in the chorus, like the protagonist who realizes they have become more of the villain than the hero. Think something like [spoilers] Leonardo DiCaprio during the final act of Shutter Island. How do you take apart everything you think you know and reconstruct it in a clean and sensible manner? Can you tell I just watched Shutter Island a few days ago? For the first time, too!

Some of the more exciting moments on the record are when the band ventures out of the traditional confines of the shoegaze moniker. The track “Sodawater” kicks off with a sonic departure from the gloomy aspects that envelop the majority of the first side of the record. The guitars feel more whimsical than despondent, evoking the jangle-pop tones of groups like Wishy or Alvvays. The simple yet anthemic chorus of “I’m all right / I don’t mind” brings a rare feeling of relaxation to the record, making the song a personal highlight. “Bermuda” features eerie guitars that, to my ears, feel more indebted to the work of post-rock outfit HEALTH rather than a shoegaze band. Meanwhile, the vocals are light, reminiscent of something from a mid-2010s Turnover track. It's a fascinating mix of inspirations and sounds that make for one of the more unique tracks on this record.

The title track, “Almost Static,” feels like the darker, moodier, and more decipherable sibling of Nothing’s “Blue Line Baby.” Most of the song features a toned-down guitar passage with simpler drums, allowing for more clarity in Yetka’s voice. Even with things dialed back, the production choices make these instruments sound like they could fill up a warehouse, at least until they all come crashing down in the final leg of the track. The same could be said for “No Pulse,” which amps up the depth of the guitars with a groovy riff and drum pattern.

As the album nears its end and the final chords ring out from “Hurt A Fly,” there’s a sense of a journey completed, like the protagonist has reached where they’ve been trying to get all this time. The cinematic aspects of Almost Static stand out from a growing alternative rock landscape as a project that's greater than the sum of its parts. The band’s decisiveness towards cultivating that overall journey from the darkest parts to the light is a brilliant reminder of the power of a complete project and the care that goes into it. Don’t let that shoegaze moniker on the album fool you: Keep is beyond that simple classification.

Samuel Leon (they/he) is a Brooklyn-based performance photographer, playwright, and semi-retired performer. Sam writes plays about music but not musicals. Sam doesn’t like using the internet, but they will if they have to. If you are even remotely close to Brooklyn and want Sam to make you look cool on camera, hit them up on @sleonpics.

May 28, 2025

Home Is Where – Hunting Season | Album Review

May 28, 2025/ Wes Cochran

Until recently, Home Is Where’s bio across streaming services read simply, “our band could be yr neighborhood.” It was a fun play on a classic Minutemen line that gave an entire book on indie rock its title, but together with the band’s name, it always resonated more as a mission statement. This is hardly a surprise: both myself and all four members of the group are from Florida, and I cannot think of a rock band that has rendered the Southeastern United States with such pinpoint accuracy. Whenever I’m listening to the whaler, I can practically feel the August humidity pasting my shirt to my back while I mow my mother’s lawn at 9 am. The line “Grass scabs over cracks in your driveway” from “Sewn Together from the Membrane of the Great Sea Cucumber” could have been written while staring at my old carport torn up by tree roots.

That detail is just one example of lead singer and songwriter Bea MacDonald’s keen eye for the grotesque sutures holding 21st-century southern life together. Animal carcasses, the living dead, and brutally functional man-made structures dominate the imagery of the band’s first two records; part body horror and part post-apocalypse in their depictions of her home state. She’s acutely aware of the sins and contradictions foundational to certain subsets of the cultural landscape of America, but there’s an effort to understand in MacDonald’s writing that many would-be critics stop short of. Even as a trans woman alienated from her home by its government, there’s a warmth at war with the ugliness on display in her songs. That conflict is the beating heart of Hunting Season, guiding Home Is Where through their most winding, sensitive, and tangibly southern set of songs yet. Well, that and 13 different Elvis Presley impersonators’ lives flashing before their eyes as they die in the same massive car wreck.

If you’re confused on that last bit, don’t worry: Home Is Where have never been ones to let an outlandish concept interfere with their visceral emotional punch. “artificial grass” is the only track to name-drop the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll outright, but the focus is still on the pretender to the throne’s identity crisis and his dying revelation that “every king is a thief.” It’s also the only moment on the record where MacDonald’s scream is front and center, relying more than ever on her natural drawl to wring the emotion from these songs. For the majority of the record, guitarist Tilley Komorny trades emo tapping and fiery post-hardcore riffs for delicate pedal steel and fleet-fingered acoustic strumming. Even the electric tracks like lead single “migration patterns” have more in common with The Band or alt-country darlings Wednesday than they do with the band’s emo peers. This is by no means a betrayal of their scene: if anything, Hunting Season is the most themselves Home Is Where have ever been.

The album offsets all these new sounds with a slew of recurring motifs from throughout the band’s catalog. Opening track “reptile house” echoes the whaler in both its folk-heavy sound and gruesome imagery, with fatal car crashes and suburban decay standing in sharp relief to the natural order. MacDonald literally self-immolates in a haunting refrain before once again bemoaning Western civilization’s unwillingness to let things die. “The end of the world is taking forever” from “daytona 500” has been simplified to the passive, “Oh! The end goes on and on and on,” as the band plays her out. It’s not the cheeriest start, but MacDonald spends the record’s thirteen songs scanning the most hostile backroads and small towns for signs of happiness, however hard their surroundings try to snuff that joy out.

Throughout Hunting Season, MacDonald identifies with drifters wandering through scenes of an American dream melted like plastic in the sun. “milk & diesel” features a philosophical exchange on memory and meaninglessness between two of history’s most infamous traitors, Pat Garrett and Judas himself, while “mechanical bull” sees MacDonald share her own take on meeting the devil at a crossroads. Tales of cowboys and outlaws have long brought comfort or at least a sense of self to those in exile, and that holds true even a quarter of the way through the 21st century. Many across the country, including MacDonald and Komorny, have been forced to either live a lie or leave the states where they were born and raised thanks to increasingly aggressive anti-trans legislation. When the former sings, “No matter where you go, you’re still on the run” on “the wolf man,” it’s enough to make someone whose own migration was more intentional feel a sting of homesickness.

Only someone who truly loves Florida could describe the state in all its strange glory. Everything from discarded McDonald’s bags, fire & brimstone billboards, and a gorilla advertising a Harley Davidson sale litter the medians of the album’s highway. It seems absurd or alien on paper, but each one of these sights reminds me of the biannual 8-hour drives down I-75 my family would make to Tampa for holidays. MacDonald describes these scenes with the same detached mix of wonder and bewilderment as a ten-year-old child viewing them from a backseat window, but also the fondness of an adult who’s lived around them, left, and come back. “stand-up special” captures these bittersweet memories like mosquitoes in sap, with Bea’s voice backed up by Shannon Taylor of awakebutstillinbed as they get stuck within their own warped scenes of Americana. The band glides through the song’s folksy bounce, halting only to devastate at the end with the revelation, “I’ve been exploding my whole life!”

If anything keeps the record’s spirits high, though, it’s Home Is Where’s unified efforts as a band to make the most impassioned and close-to-home music of their lives. Both “stand-up special” and its sister track right before, “black metal mormon,” are such breezes to listen to that it’s hard for my face not to break into a soft smile while listening. The embrace of songs structured around a strong chorus leads to some of the sweetest melodies the band has offered yet. “shenandoah” is a gorgeous torch song and the most direct nod yet to the band’s longtime muse Bob Dylan, harmonica and all. Even a song as layered in its heartbreak as “milk & diesel” gives Komorny the space to rip a solo worthy of Neil Young himself. The most furious jam comes on “roll tide,” a steady, slow burn more than half the length of the band’s first album. It begins slow and sparse, gradually building into a wall of dissonant guitars, rolling drums, and wordless shouts before unraveling into vocal samples by the very end.

The track was also the most impenetrable on the record to me. Not due to its length or a lack of hooks - the humming of the titular phrase was one of the first things from the record to get properly lodged in my brain - but maybe because of just how much I’ve heard those words. I spent my middle and high school years in Alabama, and I can’t tell you how many hundreds of times I heard “roll tide!” spoken, spat out, or screamed by devout college football fans during that time. It was meant as a rallying cry, but I could only register it as an ominous sign of domination. That perspective made this penultimate track read more as a dirge, and to be quite honest, for as good as the song is, it bummed me out. It wasn’t until several listens in that the verses began to reshape it for me.

I saw how the wind blew through
The trees and the leaves and the fruit
Were not moved
Well, it dawns on me, it’s late enough
To call it morning; all we need
Is the light

These images paint a picture of perseverance and, if you dare, hope. In southern vernacular, ‘roll tide’ has outgrown its place as a sports team’s trademarked battle cry: it’s used to mean everything from “have a good day” to “keep carrying on.” So much so that during a recent visit with family, my partner, who grew up on the West Coast, was completely lost hearing it for the first time. I’m choosing to believe MacDonald has appropriated it further as a call of queer resilience in the places where it’s needed most and people understand it the least. If nothing else, this band got me to join in a chant of “roll tide” for the first time in my life, and that’s a miracle in and of itself.

For all the death, destruction, and bitter memories within, Hunting Season is not a record that wallows in defeat. Home Is Where identify resistance and community as the only ways forward, so we may as well all be from the same neighborhood. They kicked us out of the old one. To quote the coda that the band finally etched into wax in the final moments of the record: “Home Is Where forever.”

Wes Cochran is a Portland-based writer, worker, and listener. You can find them @wacochran on Instagram, via their email electricalmess@gmail.com, or navelgazing their way up and down South Portland.

Blog

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Aesop Rock – The Impossible Kid

The Hotelier – Goodness

Touché Amoré – Stage Four

Bon Iver – 22, A Million

Black Marble – It’s Immaterial

The Menzingers – After the Party

SZA – Ctrl

Manchester Orchestra – A Black Mile To The Surface

Amen Dunes – Freedom

Parquet Courts – Wide Awake!

KIDS SEE GHOSTS – KIDS SEE GHOSTS

Gouge Away – Burnt Sugar

The Happy Children – Same Dif

Purple Mountains – Purple Mountains

Walter Mitty And His Makeshift Orchestra – Puddles of Alligators

Charli xcx – how i’m feeling now

Slaughter Beach, Dog – At the Moonbase

Porter Robinson – Nurture

Wednesday – Twin Plagues

Alvvays – Blue Rev

Arm’s Length – Never Before Seen, Never Again Found

Basque – Pain Without Hope Of Healing

Swim Into The Stats

Finally…

Day 0: Solid State Books presents Niko Stratis' "The Dad Rock That Made Me A Woman"

Day 1: Emo Music, Smashed Guitars, and a Flood Warning

Pop Music Fever Dream

Greg Freeman

Pretty Bitter

The Ophelias

Pinkshift

Vinyl Raffle + Raquel Willis of Gender Liberation Movement

Home Is Where

Interstitial Migration

Perennial

ZORA

Um, Jennifer?

Interlude: Merch Booths, Organizing, and Wishlists

Day 2: Local Legends, TRANSA Showcase, and Ekko Fucking Astral

Miri Tyler

Berra

Massie

Pinky Lemon

Faith/Void

Big Girl

Ted Leo

Downtown Boys

Speedy Ortiz

Bartees Strange

Asher White

L'Rain

Pure Adult

Ekko Astral & Friends

Liberation Forever

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