April 20, 2024

Swim Into The Sound's Favorite Stoner Rock Songs

April 20, 2024/ Taylor Grimes

4/20 is a dumb holiday. It’s not even a holiday — it’s an excuse for teenagers and college kids to spend the day stoned and making dumb jokes while consuming an inhuman amount of Little Debbie snack cakes, Arnold Palmer, and Wendy’s… At least, that’s how I’ve spent my fair share of April 20ths.

Sure, it’s fun to have a weed-based holiday, especially as the drug becomes more widely accepted both societally and legally. While the federal government still classifies marijuana as a Schedule I drug, public notion has taken a hard turn the other way over the last decade. As of April 20th, 2023, exactly 38 states, three territories, and the District of Columbia all allow for the medical use of cannabis products, while recreational marijuana is currently legal in 24 states — almost half the country.

And yet, something doesn’t feel quite right.

While it’s been affirming to watch public opinion shift on marijuana, I can’t help but feel like it’s a bit of a hollow victory. Yeah, it’s great that I can go and buy edibles from a drive-thru window in Denver. Sure, it’s sick that I can walk into a cafe in Chicago and buy a weed-infused lemonade. Of course, it’s awesome that I can visit New York and stop at a place called “Granny Za’s” and spend $10 on the most wack pre-roll I’ve ever smoked. It’s all there, and yet, there’s an elephant in the room in the form of our nation’s prison system.

In reality, what this day should be about is abolition. We should continue to use 4/20 as a day to celebrate weed — I don’t want to take that away from anyone — but we should also use this as a day to talk about the unjust drug laws in this country and the ways that our government has wielded policies that acutely target people of color and those living below the poverty line, all for something that doesn’t harm anyone.

For every sleek new dispensary that pops up in one of these newly decriminalized states, there are dozens, if not hundreds of people who have been locked up and held away from society for possessing things that you now can buy from the gas station around the corner.

I’m not even talking about just weed; harder drugs are part of this conversation, too. I know I’m not the most qualified person to speak on this, but I just want to make my position clear: fuck every prison, fuck every cop, and free everyone whose lives have been ruined by our unjust prison system. Fuck Richard Nixon, fuck the war on drugs, and fuck you if you don’t have any compassion for people struggling with substances.

For a more articulate and decidedly less vulgar articulation on these topics, I recommend everyone read Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Davis. It’s available, in full, as a PDF here, so you really have no excuse not to sit down and read about the incredibly prejudiced system we’ve all come to accept as part of our societal fabric. Once you notice it, you can’t stop. A better future is possible, but if we’re going to work towards that collective future, it begins with understanding what we’re up against.

To pivot back to music and back to this blog’s usually scheduled silliness, today we have a fun roundup celebrating Stoner Rock. Yes, Stoner Rock: the least serious, most embarrassing, and also most badass genre of music ever. It seems like the most appropriate way for us to celebrate the music, the culture, and where those two things intersect. Now, I only hope my team of writers understand the assignment.

Kyuss – “One Inch Man”

I was (unfortunately) predisposed to love stoner rock from the jump. Once I discovered Paranoid in middle school, my fate was sealed. By the time I had gotten into Queens of the Stone Age in my early teenage years, there was no going back. Then-current groups like The Sword and Wolfmother set the stage for me to dig into older bands like Sleep, Fu Manchu, Asteroid, and Truckfighters.

My first real stoner rock phase came in college, ironically after I had consciously decided to stop smoking weed. I wound my way back through Josh Homme’s discography through the early days of Queens, past the meandering collaboration of The Desert Sessions, and all the way to Kyuss. In that band, I found albums full of the grooviest riffs and nastiest, most lip-curling guitar tones I had ever heard. While I enjoyed each of the band’s albums about equally, something kept drawing me back to … And The Circus Leaves Town. While “Hurricane” kicks the record off with some head-bobbing drums and sputtery guitar, “One Inch Man” gradually revealed itself to me as my Kyuss song. The three-minute track begins with a guitar lick I can only categorize as peak. The drums kick in, and almost instantly, everything clicks into place. It’s a grungy and cocky track that could easily soundtrack a smoke sesh, but also feels active and upright enough that you could strut down the street and feel like the coolest person alive with this blaring in your headphones.

Taylor Grimes - @GeorgeTaylorG

Clutch – “Big News”

As the resident Swim Into The Sound edgeman (which I have not confirmed but have yet to be corrected), you may think I am the least qualified to talk about stoner rock. However, as a young hesher, I discovered music in this genre before I even knew what to call it. “Freya” by The Sword being featured on Guitar Hero II was the first stone, if I may, and then came Clutch. I had first seen them as a featured artist on Viva La Bam, but my first time connecting with their music was when I heard “Electric Worry” on Comcast’s MusicChoice TV. When their next album, Strange Cousins From The West, was released in 2009, I bought the CD at Borders and told the cashier it was “blues metal.” He said that didn’t sound very crazy, as we all know, most rock music is rooted in the blues, and Robert Johnson supposedly selling his soul to the devil is about as metal as it gets.

From then on, I became obsessed with the thick guitar tones and slow pace of doom, sludge, and stoner metal. Before I made it to the eighth grade, I was regularly listening to Crowbar, Eyehategod, and Karma To Burn. I started my first stoner metal-influenced band in high school, and then another one in college. Sadly, both of them were very short-lived, but my love for the riff persisted. For fifteen years now, Clutch has always been my favorite band of the style. They are absolutely the perfect American rock band to me. Unbeatable drum grooves from Jean-Paul Gastier, locked-in basslines from Dan Maines, all-time tasteful riffage from Tim Sult, and iconic lyrics and vocals from Neil Fallon. Clutch is on tour this year for the 30th anniversary of their debut album Transnational Speedway League: Anthems, Anecdotes And Undeniable Truths — what I believe to actually be the best DC hardcore record of the ‘90s. That album preceded their landmark 1995 self-titled LP, bridging the gap between their dirgy, riff-based hardcore and the oddball stoner rock they’d come to perfect. Many songs from the album are still Clutch live staples to this day, like the epic interstellar cruise anthem “Spacegrass,” and my personal favorites, the one-two opening punches of “Big News I” and “Big News II.” Everything about this suite remains exciting to me no matter how many times I listen to it. One thing I love about Cutch is that I have zero fucking idea what Neil Fallon is singing about half the time. He is a storyteller in every sense of the word, and with the exception of their earliest tracks, I’m not certain he reflects on his own experiences much in his lyrics (or he’s extremely talented at masking them with fictional characters or deep-cut historical references).

“Big News I” begins the story of an old, raucous pirate ship on its way down with “Dutchmen on the mizzen mast, six harpies are singing to the lee” and “fifteen men on a dead man’s chest, yo ho ho and a bottle of rye.” Musically, it’s got everything Clutch are experts at: a funky ass drum line, a killer bass lead, fuzz-toned guitars over the bass lead, and the expressive vocal style that only Neil Fallon can do. The way it moves between the swirling verses and aggressive choruses is dynamite, and when it transitions to the bit more aggressive second chapter, it’s absolutely seamless. “Big News II” comes in like a boat-busting iceberg, with the entire band kicking everything up a few notches. The line “fortune tellers make a killing nowadays” returns from “Part I,” and the way Neil screams it has made me want it as a tattoo for years. I mean, really, what other band could make shouting “A SAILOR’S LIFE FOR MEEEEEE!!!!!!” sound that badass? I’ve seen Clutch seven times, and I finally got to see them do these tracks at their most recent Chicago show. As an added bonus, they weaved in the fan hit “Cypress Grove” in the middle of the sequence, which made it all the more special. They are the absolute masters of their craft, from their very first 7” to 2022’s knockout LP Sunrise On Slaughter Beach. Okay, I’m gonna continue to not smoke weed and dial up my playlist of Bong, Bongripper, Bongzilla, and Weedeater.

Logan Archer Mounts - @VERTICALCOFFIN

Editor’s Note: Hell yeah to Clutch, but might need to cut this down a bit though, you have the longest entry, and you don’t even smoke weed.

Keith Jarrett - “Eyes of the Heart (Pt. 1 & 2)”

The last 4/20 I celebrated in earnest was 7 years ago. I flew from Evanston, IL, to Middletown, CT, to play a weekender all across Wesleyan with my old emo band. For the four of us, this meant an excuse to imbibe recklessly. (On our first night in town, someone procured a keg for our show at an off-campus art gallery, and we got so drunk our drummer Zach passed out behind the kit mid-set.) To cap off the run, the night after our last gig, we divvied up some mushrooms scrounged from dresser drawers and turned off all the lights; as the resident jazz guy, I was tasked to “play something crazy.” I threw on Keith Jarrett’s Eyes of the Heart, which had been getting some burn in my headphones during stoned evening walks, and we let our enhanced imaginations draw shapes on the dark ceilings. Released on ECM as Jarrett was splitting time between their forward-looking ambient-adjacent jazz and relatively more traditional be-bop stylings on Impulse!, Eyes of the Heart received mixed reviews from critics. It may not hit the astral heights of The Köln Concert or Bremen/Lausanne, but it’s nigh-perfect stoner jazz. Jarrett’s wonky percussion experiments are reverent but still goofy, and the band is killer: Dewey Redman on tenor, Charlie Haden on bass, Paul Motian on drums. Haden’s loping bass riff grounds the band’s forays into more spiritual territory before they drop, leaving Jarrett to the improvisations that characterized his work on ECM in the 70s. Unfortunately for our burgeoning buzz, someone’s sober-ish roommate decided to noodle along to the music on an acoustic guitar, Tallest Man on Earth-style; we tried to stare daggers at him, but I’d be surprised if anybody pulled off more than perplexed anguish. Within a year, I’d mostly give up weed for good. Legalize it, free anybody locked up for it, then let them get the first crack at making money off of it. For what it’s worth, I still roll one hell of a joint.

Jason Sloan - @slaysonjones

Editor’s Note: Stoner Rock—ROCK—as in “rock and roll music,” not jazz. Come on.

Washed Out – “Paracosm”

This song sounds like flowers, man. What instruments do you know that sound like flowers? I heard this for the first time at the tender age of 14 and soon discovered that songs could be long, intricate, and serene. Somehow, in the first three seconds, I knew this was meant to be enjoyed as an experience, so I laid down on my basement’s rougher-than-shag carpet, put my noise-canceling headphones to full volume, closed my eyes, and just tried to breathe. At the time, I had no concept of drugs, but that didn’t stop me from trying to compare this experience with the stoner kids at lunch. I basically still don’t know what it means to get or be high, but I have to imagine the power scaling is something like this. With one cheeky puff, you instantly know the number of the nearest pizza place. Two bold quaffs, you can befriend anyone in a ten-mile radius wearing a tie-dye shirt, but you can only talk about Sublime for some reason. Finally, after three perhaps quite labored inhales of noisome smoke, I’m absolutely certain the imbiber is conferred the awesome ability to turn four-letter words into words of infinite length, one prime example being *ahem* “Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude…”

Braden Allmond — @BradenAllmond

Editor’s Note: When it comes to weed, you get it. When it comes to this assignment, however, you don’t.

Sufjan Stevens – “Fourth of July”

Getting stoned can be a bit of a mixed bag for the highly anxious like myself. At the very best, I’m closing my eyes and gleefully reliving all the best moments of my life, such as my favorite concerts. At the very worst, I’m crying on the couch and thinking about how everyone I love is capable of dying at any time. Most times, I’m marrying the two extremes by watching the Carrie and Lowell concert film and getting really worried about Sufjan Stevens.

While Carrie and Lowell is far down the list of Sufjan’s most stoner-friendly music, it still encompasses everything my experience with edibles has been: sort of religious and mostly a bummer. If I had to choose a single song to be my 4/20 anthem, it would be his live version of “Fourth of July,” where he builds on the line “we’re all going to die” for several minutes. Or maybe it’s several hours. By that point of my whooping 5 mgs, it’s really all the same.

Lindsay Fickas - @lindsayfickas

Editor’s Note: I love Sufjan as much as the next guy, but stoner rock? Come on, let’s be real.

Corey Feldman – “Go 4 It”

When smoking weed, you want to be transported to another galaxy, a place far, far away, not knowing what’s real or imitation. No one deserves to be your tour guide more than Corey Feldman and his techno classic “Go 4 It.” He should be the final boss in any weed excursion. The song itself is pure mayhem, with a Michael Myers-esque synth intro jump scaring you into a Skillrex-created-if-he-was-deaf dubstep beat. Still, the cherry on top is that the “Grand Marshall of Ganja” himself, Snoop Dogg, makes an appearance, most likely mailing in his verse via carrier pigeon. You must watch Corey Feldman’s epic Today Show performance, which will encompass all your senses and take you to a state of ecstasy like none other. He gyrates, twerks and is dressed as if Assassin’s Creed just joined a motorcycle gang. But, buyer beware, the Feldster is only for weed experts; you are one step away from entering heaven or trying to escape the depths of hell.

David Williams - @davidmwill89

Editor’s Note: What the hell is thiiiiiis?

David Crosby – “Traction in the Rain”

I’m the first to say I’m no aficionado on the niches and intricacies of proper ‘stoner rock.’ But I’m also the first to say that I’m a bit of an aficionado of ‘60s and ‘70s rock, where the ‘stoner’ part of it all was just implied. Aside from (or because of?) the fact that I have a somewhat parasocial relationship with the late-’60s Laurel Canyon scene, my ‘stoner’ self seems to always want to vibe out to jangly guitars and all things Americana. I smoke to try to relieve (suppress?) anxiety, and this era of music—anything from The Stone Poneys to Strawberry Alarm Clock—is what I’ve found that does it for me. So sue me.

Not to mention that it feels a little sacrilegious not to acknowledge the grandfather of all things stoner and rock on a day like 4/20. David Crosby’s If I Could Only Remember My Name is the quintessential stoner album, a full-body experience that is one of the most necessary 4/20 listens I can think of. On “Traction in the Rain,” Crosby’s vocals are just the right amount of haunting, with Laura Allen’s autoharp flashing against his almost whiny intonation. On those days when I’m feeling run down by the grind, I turn to Crosby, singing “Hard to find a way / To get through another city day / Without thinking about / Getting out,” and I know he’s got me. With glitters of vocals and acoustic from partner in crime Graham Nash, Crosby is at his most vulnerable on an already personally exposing album; wondering where time has gone while also attempting to look ahead.

So this 4/20, I recommend you sit down, light a Croz-approved joint, maybe look at a sunset, and take a minute to reflect.

Cassidy Sollazzo - @cassidynicolee_

Editor’s Note: David Crosby would wilt if he ever heard real stoner rock. Let’s step it up.

Tears for Fears – “Mad World”

Upon one of my first investigations into the world of what the guy at the bodega insists is called “zaza,” I found myself in tears. The culprit wasn’t the totemic pilgrimage of Sleep’s Dopesmoker or some blissed-out desert riffs, but a pop song. All of my research indicated that this weed stuff was supposed to help you relax, man, especially when you were listening to the dulcet tones of England’s finest duo, Tears for Fears.

The first verse of their 1983 hit “Mad World” set the scene for me to succumb in stoned sadness — “All around me are familiar faces / Worn-out places, worn-out faces.” Holy shit, that’s a bummer! The grindset has distorted every smiling face into heavy, tired grimness. Only four lines later, our narrator is ready to “drown his sorrow,” praying for “no tomorrow.” It’s been a while since Sunday school, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be praying for that.

However, the chorus is what really gets your goat and makes it weep. By the time Curt Smith sings the immortal lyrics, “And I find it kind of funny / I find it kind of sad / The dreams in which I’m dying / Are the best I’ve ever had,” my cheeks bore a greater resemblance to Niagara Falls than to someone’s face. How could a dream of shuffling off this mortal coil like a pair of geriatrics on the ship’s deck be better than any other? I can’t imagine Smith has had too many fond dreams if those are at the top of the oneirology pile.

In two slight verses and a hell of a refrain, the band lives up to their name: these are definitely Tears caused by my Fears. It is a testament to the song’s potency that it catalyzed immediate journalistic action. I raced downstairs, looking like a human Coldplay song, to inform my roommates of the music’s tragedy. Uncertain but in agreement, they nodded and affirmed that the song “was a downer” and that they “like the version in Donnie Darko more.”

If you measure a song’s stoner rock-ness by how much emotion it can elicit, “Mad World” is the greatest stoner rock song of all time.

Aly Muilenburg - @purityolympics

Editor’s Note: I see you trying to work some logic in with that last line, but it’s not working for me, this still ain’t stoner rock.

Caveman – “Shut You Down”

I learned I'm not a stoner at a Phosphorescent show in 2014. Phosphorescent is an indie folk act from Huntsville, Alabama, primarily helmed by singer Matthew Houk. They were supporting their album Muchacho at the time. I was really captivated by their song "Terror in the Canyons" and wanted to go see them when they came to Columbus, Ohio, but I couldn't talk any of my friends into coming with me, so I chose to go alone.

Reader, I did not succeed in seeing Phosphorescent on that evening in 2014. That is why my contribution to this article is not listed under “Phosphorescent - ‘Terror in the Canyons.’” Instead, I took an edible gifted to me by a bagboy with a penchant for floral maxi skirts at that den of excess and debauchery known as Whole Foods Market, where I worked at the time, and freaked the fuck out.

I did, however, see their opener, Caveman: nicely dressed white guys who make what I call “bathwater music.” Bathwater music consists of a lot of disparate subgenres that were popping off in the early 2010s: chillwave, dreampop, witch house, vaporwave, a lot of stuff mislabeled as shoegaze, lo-fi beats you can study to. Music that sounds like warm water washing over you. Guitars that sound like they’re coming from the bathroom down the hall with the shower running. Lyrics that… kind of make sense… but are more interested in creating an atmosphere than telling a story.

They opened with “Shut You Down,” from their second, self-titled album. The first note they struck my vision went kind of sepia tone (was I dosed by this bagboy? Did I live some Go Ask Alice bullshit? unclear), and that is a good way to describe the quality of this song. It’s nostalgic, but didn’t really sound like anything from a bygone era in 2014. It’s sad but calm and non-confrontational. The vocals are quiet and plaintive. It’s really the perfect kind of music for someone who’s so high he thinks he’s going to die, or be arrested, or both, and that’s why I stayed for their whole set. I did bolt as soon as they were done though. Sorry Phosphorescent; what could have been…

Brad Walker - @bradurdaynightlive

Editor’s Note: I don’t know what this is, but it ain’t stoker rock. Take this shit back to the cave, man.

Binaural Beats - Marijuana High |THC Beat| Purple Haze Digital Drug

*We’ve evolved past the need for labels*

Okay enough of that brick weed music that these Salvia-sucking posers are rambling about. You want the dank shit? That Ricky Stanicky-icky? Then take a lungbusting hit of Binaural Beats - Marijuana High |THC Beat| *Purple Haze* Digital Drug. Look, anyone can smoke THC-P Moon Rocks, get a headache, and throw on some Tame Impala – but real heads know that the best Stoner Rock is a series of 420 HZ frequencies that make your brain think that it smoked weed. Because the only thing cooler than smoking weed is smoking digital weed through your ears. So don’t vacuum your carpet for several months, then sit on the floor, close your blinds, and blast this shit so loud that the neighbors get a contact high. Become ungovernable/very difficult to get a hold of when your family reaches out to you. (Pro Tip: while THC binaural beats are safe on their own, they can be a gateway to more destructive hertz. Make sure you check your binaurals for any Fentanyl frequencies).

Joshua Sullivan - @brotherheavenz

Editor’s Note: This is fucked up.

Counting Crows – “Accidentally In Love (as featured on the Shrek 2 Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)”

When I was asked to come up with my favorite Stoner Rock piece of music for 4/20 I was a bit puzzled. As someone who has basically no knowledge of the genre, I thought to myself, “Is it a specific genre? Or is it simply any music to get stoned to?” Amid my confusion, I made the very wise choice of taking to Spotify and scrolling through playlist after playlist, both created by Spotify and users with various titles, including the words “Stoner Rock.” As I was doing my research, I noticed that the song “Accidentally In Love” by Counting Crows was featured on one of these playlists, which begged the question, “Is the Shrek 2 Soundtrack considered Stoner Rock?” The thing to know about me, dear reader, is that I absolutely adore Shrek 2, along with its perfectly curated list of accompanying songs for the film. It is quite literally the film of a generation and its soundtrack is simply one of many aspects that solidify it in the upper echelon of family-oriented animated media. I mean, what’s not to love about Shrek 2? It was a staggering artistic improvement from the original, and its animation still holds up to this day! Not to mention, you have an uproarious cast of voice talent, including the incomparable Tony Banderas! What other movie are you going to find a trumpeted version of the Hawaii Five-0 theme song as well as a stirring cover of “Holding Out For A Hero”? There’s no other movie like that! And the soundtrack version is done by Frou Frou, are you kidding me?? I love Imogen Heap so much, and many people only know her from that meme from the OC, but like I’m telling you, what a discography. That album that “Hide and Seek” is on is just flawless! And she inspired Ariana Grande? Incredible. Anyway, I wasn’t huge on Shrek 3 and never really watched Shrek 4, it just didn’t really appeal to me, you know? Anyway, I can’t remember what I was saying, but I need to take a break from writing so I can watch Shrek 2.

Ciara Rhiannon - @rhiannon_comma

Editor’s Note: Look, I love Shrek 2 (and its soundtrack) as much as the next 30-year-old, but just because some stoner added it to a playlist on Spotify does not mean it’s eligible for this roundup.

Brava Spectre - “The Lioness Eye Tamed My Open Palm”

Noise rock and stoner rock are the same thing, right? Anyway, I popped an edible before sitting down to write this, and I think it’ll probably kick in at some point in the next hour or so, ‘tis the season and all. Anyway, Brava Spectre were a band from New London, Connecticut, inspired by the likes of Arab on Radar, Free Jazz, and The Mars Volta (amongst a plethora of others). They burned incredibly bright and hot before sputtering out as the band dissolved and morphed into other projects, most notably the addition of guitarist Stephen K. Buttery to The World Is A Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid To Die’s permanent lineup. Brava Spectre’s debut album, The Hands, The Water, The Hands That Occupy the Water, has a super trippy name, and when you say it out loud, it kind of tastes like colorful grainy monochrome, but the music is abrasive, controlled to the point of spiraling out and snapping, containing some borderline haunting melodies as well as some of the most evil riffs you will ever hear. “The Lioness Eye Tamed My Open Palm” is a fucking crazy title, man, like I wonder if these guys, oh holy shit, I wonder if the music is changing my molecular structure in some way, I mean, I’ve heard of vibrational patterns that can cause cells to react in different ways including cell regeneration or duplication. That reminds me of the single electron theory, I mean, what if our complex cell structure is actually fundamentally made up of a single electron that we all share and I think that's kind of beautiful, too, even if it's like really spooky.

Elias - @letsgetpivotal

Editors Note: This was supposed to be like 300 words, but they wrote 1900, so I deleted the majority of it since they started rambling about the holographic universe or some weird shit like that.

April 01, 2024

The Best of Q1 2024

April 01, 2024/ Taylor Grimes

Today means something different to everybody. To some, April 1 is a fun day for goofs and gags; to others, it’s just another day we have to pay rent. To obsessive music writers, today marks the official beginning of “Q2” 2024. I know that makes me sound like a business bro or some hotshot market analyst, but I’ve found increasing validity in breaking up the year into four even chunks like this. Not only does this cadence make me more mindful of the passage of time, but it also acts as the perfect vantage point to look back and take stock of what has happened over the last few months.

Whenever I talk to people, even the biggest music nerds, a common sentiment is the feeling that it’s harder than ever to “keep up” with new music. I agree, but I also think that feeling means you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Every week is an avalanche of new music, and it can be overwhelming to keep up with. Throw in the constant stream of new singles, music videos, tour announcements, splits, interviews, podcasts, and month-long album rollouts, and it’s no wonder why fandom can start to turn back on itself and feel like a job.

I’m of the mind that if you’re feeling that pressure, you need to reframe your relationship with music. New music will always be there, and you can’t possibly listen to everything. We here at Swim Into The Sound are passionate music geeks. We love sifting through press releases and keeping track of album cycles. We make playlists and try our hardest to check out new music each Friday. Sometimes, we take a month off, but it always comes back to our obsession and love for music in (hopefully) equal measure.

What follows is a collection of our staff’s favorite albums from the first three months of 2024. Each writer has selected one release that they’ve been gravitating towards, all in the hopes that you will find something new to love or check out. Thanks to a massive influx of new writers, our team, and our taste has never been so diverse. You’ll see everything here, from throat-shredding heavy metal to laid-back lounge fare, twinkling emo, and pastoral indie rock. Go check these records out, save a few, and check them out in your own time. No matter how well you’re staying “up” on the new stuff, we hope you find something here to adore as much as we have.

Cheekface – It’s Sorted

As a Cheekface superfan, It's Sorted is not exactly the album I wanted… It's better than that. I think I wanted them to keep making the same irreverent indie rock album that made me fall in love with them (Emphatically No.) over and over again until it stopped hitting the same. Cult followings of indie artists can be a bit like stubborn children who don't know what's good for them. Instead, Cheekface gave me new things I didn't know I wanted: shiny pop productions to go with the big pop hooks, big vocal stacks, Metallica worship, a surprisingly vulnerable acoustic(ish) moment, and, "wait a minute, did you just trick me into liking ska?" Believe it or not, It's Sorted is the band's most cohesive record yet. The songs explore themes of identity in a country where we are often defined by our jobs (or something like that). While the production often takes wild creative liberties in different directions, it is always with purpose that serves the song (producers of songwriters, take note). The qualities that make Cheekface Cheekface are alive and well on It's Sorted. If anything, they are flexing (Mandy Tannen's basslines really are their largest muscle, haha) that Cheekface has gotten even better at being themselves. Ever since I found out that frontman Greg Katz has a degree in philosophy, I have been joking that Cheekface is like a modern Socrates. The band never really tells you what they think explicitly, but their lyrics will make YOU think, whether you like it or not. And I do.

Katie McTigue - @pacingmusic

Read our review of It’s Sorted here.

Faye Webster – Underdressed at the Symphony

After a stint of TikTok virality that seemed to be handpicked by the Algorithm Gods themselves, part of me wondered if a Faye Webster pivot was on the horizon. I was painfully aware of the primarily teenaged crowd watching the show through their phone screens at Webster’s Brooklyn Steel show last October and was curious if there was a part of Webster (or the Business Folk backing her) that wanted to lean into this demo to take advantage of the moment. Luckily for us, that’s not the way things rolled out.

Webster’s Underdressed at the Symphony sees a seasoned jazz pop veteran lean into the niches that make her great—trance-like jazz interludes and conversationally quippy lyrics—while also widening her sound through heavy synth leans, vocoders, and lyrical repetition. The record is a collection of songs about losing yourself (“Wanna Quit All the Time”), finding yourself (“Feeling Good Today”), and what happens in the in-between (“eBay Purchase History”). Webster paints a picture of her ever-changing state of mind while simultaneously leaving listeners enough room to fill in the blanks for themselves through vague enough lyrics and uncrowded instrumentation. Webster’s lyrics feel like you’re a fly on the wall of her internal monologue: half are things she’d say out loud, and half are thoughts she keeps to herself (two of my favorite lines being “And I’m looking at you talk like okay / Your eyes are so pretty by the way” on “eBay Purchase History” and “I’m feeling good today / I ate before noon / I think that’s pretty good for me” on “Feeling Good Today”). Webster packs this record with things that shouldn’t go together but do: cutesy-bop interludes, jammy synth loops, full-blown orchestras, existential crises, a Lil Yachty feature, and that classic almost-Hawaiian guitar tone we all know and love. Truly something for everyone from the reluctant queen of mellow pop.

Cassidy Sollazzo - @cassidynicolee_

Flesh Tape – Flesh Tape

Flesh Tape’s self-titled record was the first thing that I bought on Bandcamp in 2024, and it’s endured as my favorite release of the year so far. It’s great, noisy guitar rock music that makes me wish I owned bigger speakers. Since this cassette came through in the mail, I’ve been listening to it front to back nearly nonstop while playing Madden, letting the massive wall of distorted guitars take me away as I throw interception after interception. I have some stuff from Nothing and Hotline TNT in a similar rotation, and I think Flesh Tape fully stands next to them as a band in that lane. In particular, the back half of this record is incredibly strong, with “Catalytic Converter” and “Sunny” landing as my two standout tracks.

Josh Ejnes - @JoshEjnes

Friko – Where we’ve been, where we go from here

Recently on Twitter dot com, I saw Jordan Walsh say that the new Friko album, Where we’ve been, where we go from here, would fit seamlessly with the early 2000s Saddle Creek catalog. As I’ve listened to this album over and over and over, I haven’t been able to get that comparison out of my head. The Chicago band’s frontman, Niko Kapetan, channels all the best parts of a young Conor Oberst’s urgency, loquacity, and recklessly wobbly vocals. At the same time, drummer Bailey Minzenberger drives the songs forward with fervor and no shortage of delightfully messy cymbals. Clever time signature changes keep tracks like “Crimson to Chrome” and “Get Numb To It!” fresh where so many folky-emo bands have stumbled into monotony, and the lullaby-like “For Ella” and “Until I’m With You Again” follow haunting piano melodies down to the band’s tender core. While Friko forge a sound undeniably all their own, strands of my youth’s bygone styles have tied this comforting, chaotic record up as my favorite so far this year.

Katie Wojciechowski - @ktewoj

Read our review of Where we’ve been, where we go from here here.

From Flowers to Flies – We Built This Machine

It’s only natural to occasionally wonder where the people you went to school with ended up. I often think back to my time attending my alma mater, Sonoma State University, and the people I walked the halls of our music building with fondly. To my surprise, earlier this year, I discovered that three of those classmates, along with another friend, started a band together and released one of the most engaging and complex records I have heard thus far in 2024. Across every second of its uninhibited 45-minute runtime, listeners can expect prog-rock sensibilities, improvisational brass solos, scream vocals, variations of the Dies irae (to my absolute delight), and so much more. When a handful of incredibly skilled, dedicated music majors get together in a studio, the end result is, unsurprisingly, one of the most versatile and detailed rock-fusion records you’ll ever hear. Jam-packed with subtle references to their countless influences and overlapping eras of music, We Built This Machine stands as a brooding, genre-fluid experience from the heavy-hitting newcomers to the DIY music scene, From Flower to Flies.

Ciara Rhiannon - @rhiannon_comma

glass beach – plastic death

plastic death is a summer album. Who cares that it was released in January? This is the perfect soundtrack for a June evening, driven with the windows down while blasting this beautifully rambunctious album. The opening track, “coelacanth,” has my heart as it features a wonderful piano accompaniment, but the following tracks, “rare animal” and “commatose” are equally compelling. glass beach has done a fantastic job of expanding upon their previous album’s sound by pushing their technical and creative abilities, challenging the listener as they lead you through an hour of rhythmically complex and harmonically lush music. Whether you enjoy post-punk, shoegaze, fifth-wave emo, or an even more niche internet genre, plastic death offers all that and so much more.

Britta Joseph - @brittajoes

Read our review of plastic death here.

girlsnails – california kickball

In a year of highly anticipated releases, the debut LP by girlsnails stood highest among them. After stumbling across their 2019 self-titled EP last spring, I was immediately enraptured and impatiently awaited what was next from the Surrey/Vancouver, BC band. Delivering equal parts math rock and emo, the album leans into those genres but also plays loosely at their edges. The vocal work and albums’ mathier moments feel like a cross between Laufey’s stylistic jazz melodies and the more technical pieces of the American Football discography. With papercut penmanship, the band embraces a confessional diary-style lyricism that veers gently into abstraction more than once as the earnest pangs of regret peal in almost crystalline purity. Whether it's the tumbling finger dynamics and clear, lilting vocals on “ramune” or the immense instrumental builds and vocals runs on “say square,” california kickball is a run of just quality, occasionally anthemic, and frequently beautiful, jazzy, mathy emo that’s just as technically impressive as it is pleasant. For long walks where you can see your breath or half cloudy days spent lying in the grass, girlsnails has you covered.

Elias Amini - @letsgetpivotal

Glitterer – Rationale

I’m a little shocked to say that Glitterer’s third record, Rationale, is my favorite of the year so far, given I was never a Title Fight girlie. These songs sucker-punch punks with pop perfection. My favorite track, “No One There,” smuggles one of the best hooks of the year under the guise of a vocal cord-straining shout of the title. Not only are the songs catchy as hell, but the hooks are full of probing questions about how best to exist around each other. From the incredible one-two of “There I was again / making everything about me in the end,” which opens the album, to the life-affirming “this is what I’m supposed to do / nothing else I know is true / ‘cause passion is arbitrary” on “The Same Ordinary.” If you’re craving pit-stirring shout-alongs, Glitterer has you covered.

Lillian Weber - @Lilymweber

Gulfer – Third Wind

I’m starting to get the sense that emo music isn’t the coolest genre in the world. It's embarrassing, unsustainable, and not a label that many bands lean into or wear with pride. When I first discovered Gulfer back in 2018, Dog Bless quickly became a formative math rock release, an album that also felt like it capped off an era of emo in a way that is really only visible in retrospect. One pandemic later, Gulfer has released a self-titled record, a split, and a handful of sparkling singles that all built out the Montréal group’s precise sound. Turns out that was also the proper amount of time to marinate and mutate into something that pushes far beyond the restrictive realms of emo or math rock. Third Wind is a spectacular indie rock album that sees a band exploring the bounds of their influences to create something wholly unique in a space where that sort of exploration is not always well-received or rewarded. There’s so much to love here: the immaculate poppy sensibility of “Clean,” the autotuned articulation of the climate crisis on “Cherry Seed,” the hardcore outpouring of “Too Slow,” and the hypnotic repetition throughout “No Brainer.” How about the way lead singer Joe Therriault plays with his word choice on “Prove,” stretching the song's title out, lilting back and forth on the “oooooo” until it becomes completely unrecognizable. This is all backed by unparalleled instrumentation that, yes, has a background in emo and math rock, but also feels indebted to shoegaze and indie rock in a way that makes it feel far more than the sum of its parts. A new act for a band who already proved themselves to be some of the greatest to ever do it.

Taylor Grimes - @GeorgeTaylorG

Read our review of Third Wind here.

Hannah Frances – Keeper of the Shepherd

Hannah Flores has been releasing emotionally naked folk records for over half a decade, reckoning with the loss of her father across five projects, but her latest feels like a reintroduction. On Keeper of the Shepherd, Frances doesn’t grab your attention so much as she takes your face in both hands and holds your head to hers. Take the opening track “Bronwyn,” where a full rock band crackles and coils around her multi-tracked howls in an all-consuming whirlwind that calls to mind the best of fellow full-voiced powerhouses such as Weyes Blood or even Joni Mitchell. Repeated Christian imagery throughout the deceptively jaunty title track and “Vacant Intimacies” captures how truly distant the love of God can feel beside the fresh absence of someone whose love was tangible. Yet each of these seven songs comes with a personal revelation on how to live not just with loss but how to live as your own person. There’s a tendency in art to mythologize suffering, but Keeper of the Shepherd is a document of healing and moving forward. Hannah Frances knows that the most beautiful art often comes from a place of clarity and confidence that suffering cannot support, which is why on “Haunted Landscape, Echoing Cave,” even as she mirrors the climax of its bookend, she simply declares, “I am leaving.” We’d all be wise to follow her.

Wes Cochran - @ohcompassion

Knifeplay – Pearlty (2024 Remaster)

Knifeplay’s uniquely raw and emotional shoegaze is the perfect soundscape for quiet days inside, long car rides in dreary weather, and abrupt moments of self-understanding. Pearlty originally came out in March of 2019, only about 1,800 short days ago. In that time, Knifeplay has accomplished the difficult feats of releasing their 2nd full-length album, getting signed to a label, and remastering an already amazing album. The timing of the remaster is a bit poignant to me because I started graduate school around the time Pearlty came out. The album is so heavy with emotion that it could drown me if I let it. It’s sonically in the sweetest spot of ambient and active. My personal favorite songs to get lost in are “Suffer” and “Lemonhead,” both of which are just long enough to fully re-contemplate dropping out of school for the nth time. Pearlty’s remaster has given me some new perspective on my “life timeline” and has soothed months of accumulated burnout. It is a beautiful product of a band’s attention to the details of their craft, and for me personally, it is a signpost that says, “Five years down, you’re almost there.”

Braden Allmond - @BradenAllmond

Tapir! – The Pilgrim, Their God and the King of My Decrepit Mountain

Somewhere in the confluence of centuries of myth and folk music is Tapir! (exclamation point required). After unfolding over the past couple of years, the London six-piece strives heavenward on The Pilgrim, Their God and the King of My Decrepit Mountain, their debut record presented as a three-act musical quest. The first two “acts,” released in 2023, fell under my radar, so I encountered the LP in continuity, not piecemeal — I encourage you to do the same. Not because Tapir!’s pastoral anthems can’t stand on their own, but because of the feeling that flows in as the final chord of the 7-minute closer “Mountain Song” rings out. The band recognizes the subservience of narrative to composition and allows the orchestration to speak for itself. Lore and lyrics capture equal aspects of the story being told; the group is wise enough to opt for balance over proggy density. As they swim through seas of sound and summit the grassy knoll, the listener is guided every step of the way by a comforting presence, ephemeral and silent. Get lost in the fantastic, knowing Tapir! will help you safely return from your travels.

Aly Muilenburg - @purityolympics

Read our review of The Pilgrim, Their God and the King of My Decrepit Mountain here.

Theophonos – Ashes In The Huron River

Absolute societal degenerate type shit. Years-long diet of sewer rats type shit. Prison stabbing blood loss type shit. Seedy cult ritual docuseries type shit. Black tar cartwheel type shit. Scanners-level cranial burst type shit. Sludge-flooded dungeon type shit. Crime scene photo developer type shit. Wearing the skin of your enemies type shit. Kool-Aid Man Kamikaze piloting himself into the walls of the factory that made him type shit. Convicted criminal pump-up playlist type shit. Thinking about car bombing the DMV type shit. Nightmarish boss battle type shit. Hydroplaning into Hell type shit. Boot-stamping every proud boy in the tri-state area type shit. Laser removing a tattoo you got to cover up the scar of an unconventional piercing type shit.

Logan Archer Mounts - @VERTICALCOFFIN

Waxahatchee – Tigers Blood

The sixth album from Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield, Tigers Blood, brings the singer/songwriter’s country sensibilities to the forefront. While it's not the first Waxahatchee record to draw upon Crutchfield’s Southern upbringing, the feeling is omnipresent throughout this album. Deep into her career, Crutchfield’s songwriting continues to get better and better. In addition to the wildly catchy singles, Tigers Blood is full of great tracks, one after the other. Additionally, Crutchfield’s phenomenal voice is aided throughout the album by the recurring presence of MJ Lenderman on guitar and backing vocals. We may only be a quarter of the way through the year, but Tigers Blood has set the bar high for 2024.

Nick Miller - @nickmiller4321

Yard Act – Where’s My Utopia?

Everyone I know had a shit winter. Whether you’ve got SAD or are just sad, the lonely months seem to hit deep this year. All winter, I was grabbing for fuzzy comforts like Greg Mendez, Nirvanna The Band The Show, or the “Hell Naw” dog. I was trying to shake the doldrums, but nothing could get ‘em loose – until I listened to Yard Act’s riotous, effusive, and nimble new record. Plenty of punk-adjacent bands have made their dance records in the past few years (Turnover and Parquet Courts being the ones to commit the hardest), but nothing has been as wide-open, voracious, and filled with pure joy as this record. It’s the celebration of reinvention, an ode to the bloom. It’s filled to the brim with danceable hooks – like the chorus of “Dream Job,” which sounds like a sample from an iconic disco song that doesn’t exist, or the earwormy, ever-descending chorus of “Petroleum” – because, as spelled out in lead single “We Make Hits,” “We’re all gonna sink. And we just wanna have some fun before we’re sunk.” Where’s My Utopia? answers its titular question with a shapeshifting joy-spreader of an album. It’s an intellectual, physical, and emotional utopia that can only be found on the dance floor. An invitation to shake the doldrums while we still can.

Joshua Sullivan - @brotherheavenz

December 27, 2023

Swim Into The Sound's 10 Favorite Albums of 2023

December 27, 2023/ Taylor Grimes

2023 was a year of long-simmering change for me and, I imagine, many other people. This year, I moved across the country, turned 30, moved again, fell deeper in love, made noticeable strides in my physical and mental health, met a ton of new friends, and listened to a ton of new music. Now that I find myself at the tail end of the year, I can genuinely say that I changed and re-shaped my life more than I ever thought possible in a 365-day window. Not only that, but I find myself excited for whatever comes next.

I’m a creature of habit, so this is all very frightening to be so unmoored yet so fulfilled. Ultimately, habits are just coping mechanisms: little things we do to make our lives easier or simpler or faster. So, while it’s been a little scary to feel disconnected from so many routines I’ve built up over the course of three decades, sometimes what you really need is to wipe the slate clean and build something new from scratch. While I still consider myself a creature of habit, I’m also a creature of tradition, which is far more fun.

This has long been my favorite time of the year, a season full of traditions big and small. Of celebrations inside and out there. Of gifts and gestures both for strangers and the ones you love. As a big, dumb music nerd, one of my favorite long-standing traditions is the concept of “list season.”

Sure, I’ve complained about it in previous years, but there’s something so fun and celebratory about reaching the end of the year and seeing everyone share Topsters and notes app lists and last.fm charts and little blurbs about albums they liked this year. Even though these things are often numbered or ordered in some way, I find it to be a meaningful practice that’s less about competition and more about community.

This is the season when we all look back, reflect, and elevate the art that connected with us most throughout the year, all in hopes that it might connect with someone else. “Here are the things that I loved. What did you love?” It’s an exchange in the best way possible because everyone involved wins. We get to bond over this mutual appreciation for art, you can turn people onto your favorite releases, discover new music yourself, and support artists, all in the same month-long celebration.

I’ve already written about my favorite songs of the year, a list that also exists in both condensed and chronological playlist forms. Additionally, our staff shared their favorite albums of the year in an expansive round-up that also touches on the growth the blog has seen this year. Swim Into The Sound has never had a year as consistently great as 2023, and if you’re reading this, you’re to thank for that. Thanks for caring, thanks for exploring, and thanks for supporting in any way you can.

You probably don’t need me to tell you, but 2023 was also a year of mass instability. It’s a frustrating, helpless, and scary time to be alive, but in the best moments, everything feels worth it. Being here with all of you, at the same time as all of this art, even just for a little while, is an absolute blessing. What follows are ten of my favorite albums of the year, I hope you find something to love in them the way I have.

10 | Slow Pulp – Yard

In many ways, Yard is Slow Pulp’s actual debut album. After a string of awesome EPs and one-off singles, 2020’s Moveys was tragically kneecapped by the pandemic. While some (like myself) still found the time to love that record, it couldn’t have released at a worse time for a young band on the brink of a promising ascent. That’s why it felt so good to see Yard roll out to exponential praise and hype, earning the band the kind of accolades, tours, and acknowledgments they deserved all along. Beginning with a string of absolutely knockout singles (hard-charging “Cramps,” the semi-charmed singalong “Doubt,” and the scintillating summer anthem “Slugs”) one by one, the band introduced themselves to the masses and gave people a reason to care about what they were building towards. The whole collection of songs is just as phenomenal: 30 minutes of ultra-catchy indie rock perfection, where each cut stands alone as a triumphant declaration. Yard is proof that perseverance pays off.

9 | Horse Rider – Real Melody

There are a ton of bands I could compare Horse Rider to: waveform, Alex G, Soccer Mommy, hell, even fellow horse band Horse Jumper of Love. While I make all those comparisons positively, at the end of the day, they do a disservice to just how awesome, original, and downright catchy Horse Rider’s music is. Sure, hints and suggestions of those bands can be heard wafting through the group’s style of slicked-back slacker rock, but throw a dart at any song off Real Melody, and you’re guaranteed to hear a would-be radio rock hit in a more just alternate dimension. The opener, “Goldeen,” sparkles to life while adding an essential contribution to the longstanding tradition of Pokémo. A couple of tracks later, the band presents “Hollow,” where they rock back and forth on the song’s title as lead singer Lamberth Carsey sings, “When you’re hollow,” and repeats it until the phrase burrows itself into your brain. The whole record is full of short, simplistic turns of phrase swaddled in immaculate melodies and killer riffs, making for an intoxicating blend of emo, nu-gaze, slowcore, and 90s worship. Bonus points for having what’s probably the single coolest album cover of the year.

8 | Superviolet – Infinite Spring

Infinite Spring is a cosmic reset of epic proportions. For one thing, it’s Steve Ciolek’s first album following the dissolution of his previous band, The Sidekicks, but within the music too, we hear tales of people who are either coping with or actively embracing change. The record begins with angels falling to Earth and ends with a sort of cataclysmic leveling. The jaw-dropping closing track starts with acoustic fingerpicking but gradually builds to pounding drums, a soaring guitar solo, a big sing-along group chant, and wordless autotuned vocalizations. Everything that happens in between those points is just life. Long-distance relationships, fake people, real emotions, and what it feels like to lose someone forever. It’s heartbreaking, catchy, and all incredibly written. Even with a new band and a new name, Steve Ciolek excels in portraying these slice-of-life stories about people who have always been there and will always be there, shining through like a spring day that never ends.

7 | saturdays at your place – always cloudy

Some people are militant about what can go on an album of the year list. Common sense would dictate that “album of the year” means shorter-form releases like EPs and splits are excluded, but is that how anyone listens to music? Do you separate your love for a 20-minute collection of music and hold it differently than you would a 40-minute collection of music? Can you not enjoy one more than the other for entirely different reasons? Enough leading questions. always cloudy may be an EP on paper, but it contains the arc, heft, and impact of any other “full-length” collection of songs released this year, and it does so in just 19 minutes.

The EP kicks off with “future,” a time-traveling introduction that quickly builds into an explosive little dance instrumental. From there, “fetch” gallops directly into “tarot cards,” the band’s biggest hit and one of my favorite songs of the year. The back half of the EP continues to explore different moods and tempos within the band’s style, all mounting to “eat me alive,” the leave-it-all-on-the-floor closer that feels like the band wringing out every last ounce of energy they have into their performance. It leaves you breathless, almost as if you’re watching the band from the pit, covered in sweat and beer under the multi-colored lights. As an EP that was dropped in January, I feel lucky to have spent all year with these songs, and November’s split with Shoplifter and Summerbruise was just the cherry on top. If this is what the future of emo looks like, we’re in safe hands.

6 | Bully – Lucky for You

Another artist with a pandemic redemption story, Bully’s 2020 release, SUGAREGG, was yet another case of an excellent record that was unfairly swallowed up by the time suck of global catastrophe. That album was a fun, refreshing pump-up full of brash pop-punk, but this year’s Lucky For You takes everything to the next level. Alicia Bognanno has been honing her brand of Nashville-born punk rock for a decade, and on her fourth LP, she manages to reach the absolute pinnacle. Lucky For You is a whirlwind of life, loss, and love. As I’ve talked about before, the whole thing has strong last-day-of-school energy, springing to action with a brash and carefree energy. That’s a relief since the album deals with some pretty heavy topics. Primarily inspired by the loss of Bognanno’s beloved dog Mezzi, the album centers around the idea of companionship and navigating a world where change is often thrust upon you.

From the scream-along singles like “Days Move Slow” and “Hard to Love” to the Soccer Mommy-assisted “Lose You,” these songs are a reminder that sometimes the best way to roll with the punches is my leaning into them with a stiff upper lip and breezy optimism. Kill ‘em with a smile, right? Alternatively, the closing one-two punch of “Ms. America” and “All This Noise” lay the spectrum out in full, touching on women’s rights, climate change, and our media’s endless cycle of disaster. The world is a harsh, unfair place with systems in place designed specifically to grind us down and keep us there, but with Bognanno shouting in my ear, I feel like we might actually have a fighting chance.

5 | Ratboys – The Window

2023 was the year of the rat. Okay, technically it wasn’t, but it definitely was the year of the Ratboys. The Chicago rockers have been kicking up dust and serving up twang for over a decade, coming to perfect a style of music that has only recently seemed to gain traction with a wider audience. This boon is primarily due to the TikTok-fueled popularity of bands like Pinegrove and Slaughter Beach Dog, combined with the coolness of heavier/artsier counterparts like Wednesday and Squirrel Flower. All the while, Ratboys have been painting their own distinct corner of this landscape with broad, vibrant strokes. On The Window, Ratboys come together for the first time as a four-piece to explore every possible speed, style, and variation of their Chigagoan spin on wagon wheel rock. First, the band loosens up their limbs and makes some noise, then proceeds to vault from joyous exclamations (“It’s Alive!”) to heartfelt declarations of love (“The Window” and “I Want You”), all performed and sequenced to flow like a stream. It’s so beautiful and natural you don’t even question it. These explorations are tethered by crystal clear production courtesy of Chris Walla. The Window is a capital-R record, an LP meant to be held, listened to attentively, and taken in deeply. Ratboys are masters of their domain, and we’re lucky to reside within it.

4 | Phony – Heater

Is it on the nose to name your 21-minute pop-punk record “Heater”? It’s bold at the very least, but thankfully, Neil Berthier has the songs to back it up. I talk about it much more extensively in my review, but the sheer velocity of this record can’t be understated. It’s non-stop forward momentum cut in half by one solitary interlude. The LP rockets forward with the kind of self-assured coolness found on Bleed American or Nothing Feels Good, evoking a sort of emo/pop-punk hybrid that feels anything but derivative. Perhaps it’s Berthier’s voice, which can hit a throat-shredding bark or recoil into a sheepish emo whine, depending on what the song calls for. Maybe it’s the instrumentals which spring forward and shoot by like flashes from another life. Blink at any point during your listen, and you might miss one of the incredible riffs or Neil’s disaffected (but astute) observations. With each song hovering around the two-minute mark, it’s easy to find yourself on the album’s extraordinary Weezer-esque closing track thinking, “It’s over already?” The brilliance of Heater comes not just from the brevity, but from how much Berthier is able to pack into these tracks. There’s not a wasted word, strum, or beat in these songs, and the result is a chemically perfect pop-punk record.

3 | Hotline TNT – Cartwheel

The sophomore album from Hotline TNT has a lot going for it: a string of excellent EPs and records preceding it, an iconic, memeable album cover, a Wednesday co-sign, and the backing of Jack White’s Third Man Records. Perhaps most importantly, this album has songs. Here’s the recipe for the ideal Cartwheel listening experience: First, make sure you have half an hour to yourself, then start the album from the top, and play it LOUD as you can possibly stomach. From its first moments, Cartwheel casts a shoegaze spell on the listener with jangly guitar strums that evoke the 90s dreaminess of Lush and the playful innovation of TAGABOW in equal measure. The band settles into a series of songs that morph and change from one to the next, but all fit together seamlessly. In a way, I’ve found it hard to write anything articulate or insightful about Cartwheel beyond just some variation of “it rocks” over and over again. It is truly an album that is best experienced, loud, live, and in one shot. There’s been much to do over the state of shoegaze in 2023, and as a fan of the genre, even I’ll admit a lot of these modern bands sound like AI-generated heaviness created by the most swaggless posers of all time, but Hotline TNT are the real deal, and the proof is right here.

2 | Wednesday – Rat Saw God

If you were to ask me to imagine an album at the intersection of country music and shoegaze, Rat Saw God is how I hope it would sound. The fifth album from Wednesday is a near-perfect melding of these two genres that actually have more in common than one might initially think. Turns out that the dejected heaviness of shoegaze and the forlorn nature of country make for great bedfellows.

Back in 2021, Twin Plagues knocked me on my ass, simultaneously comforting me and telling me to toughen up at a time when I desperately needed both of those things. The record captivated me and beckoned me deeper into Wednesday’s universe of southern fried shoegaze. Through this journey, I discovered MJ Lenderman, Drop of Sun Studios, Alex Farrar, and the band’s impressive scene of peers/touring partners. So, with a couple years of hardcore nerding out under my belt, it’s safe to say that Rat Saw God was my most anticipated record of the year, and it almost unilaterally lived up to the hype.

The seeds of Rat were first planted in 2022 with “Bull Believer,” the album’s titanic 8-minute lead single, which should only be described with words like “scorching,” “seismic,” and “apocalyptic.” Already a classic within the band’s catalog, “Bull Believer” has become a staple closer of the band’s live sets and is the type of song only Wednesday could make. It was smart to let fans sit with that 8-minute behemoth for a few months because once 2023 started, the Wednesday train was approaching full speed.

One by one, the band dropped one fantastic single after another, all leading up to the album’s April release date. “Chosen to Deserve” brought the poppy singalong side of the band’s sound to life while the lyrics painted a picture of a semi-reformed dirtbag southern girl, an under-represented audience in music, to say the least. “Bath County” packs biblical imagery, a drug overdose, a trip to Dollywood, and a Drive-By Truckers namedrop in between a bit of clever sloganeering as bandleader Karly Hartzman bemoans, “Every daughter of God has a little bad luck sometimes.” The singles continued with “Quarry” and “TV in the Gas Pump,” each paired with inventive music videos that further fleshed out the visual side of Wednesday’s homespun world.

This all happened alongside handmade merch, a worldwide tour, monthly video dairies, contributions to compilations, and a 30-minute documentary by the band’s friend, Zach Romeo. Suffice it to say there was no shortage of Wednesday-related entertainment to keep fans satisfied, and I was here for all of it. Not only was Rat Saw God a knockout album from a band I already adored, but it was finally netting this band the kind of support and adoration they’d long deserved.

As I mentioned in the intro, I moved twice this year, and in a sort of cosmic coincidence, one of those moves brought me to North Carolina, a state I’d never once considered living in until this year. Back in 2018, I made a similar life-altering move to Detroit, and as funny as it sounds, the music of Sufjan Stevens was there, convincing me that was where I was meant to be. Now, a similar thing has happened to me with Wednesday. To find myself in this unfamiliar part of the country with my longstanding love for this artist as my sole touchpoint. It felt like something was always pulling me out there, and Wednesday’s music was just the tip of the iceberg.

Earlier this year, I was reading John Darnielle’s excellent Devil House, and at one point, he penned the phrase “Freeway detritus eternal,” which I couldn’t get out of my head. If I were to boil down the essence of Wednesday to three words, it might be those. On this record, we hear salt of the earth tales of people living life the best way they know how. The highways stretch on for miles and pass by burnt-out fast food restaurants, dilapidated roadside attractions, and commercial parking lots all the same. There’s no value judgment passed on these places or their inhabitants, merely an attempt to portray them in an accurate and empathetic light in order to share their stories with a wider audience. All you have to do is hit play on the album, inhale the stench of hot, rotten grass, grab another beer from the cooler, and kick back as the fuzzy riffs roll over you.

1 | Talking Kind – It Did Bring Me Down

There are only about 27 minutes of music on the debut record from Talking Kind. That’s a grand total of 1,634 seconds, and I love every single one of them. I’ve spent the last four months absolutely absorbed in It Did Bring Me Down. I’ve sung along to the chorus of “Damn Shame” while making a hearty Sunday breakfast. I’ve ruminated on spaghetti and death while memorizing every detail of “Pretty Flowers.” I’ve shared a clandestine smoke with my girlfriend on her balcony while blasting “Trader,” only to rock out a moment later headbanging along to “My Truck.” These are just a few glimpses into the beautiful moments I’ve experienced with this album. These tracks have embedded themselves deep in my psyche, offering the perfect balance of funny witticisms, harsh realities, and impeccable memories. Let’s wind it back just a half step.

Talking Kind is the (mostly) solo project of Pat Graham. You might know him from his work in the fourth-wave underdogs Spraynard or Lame-O y'allternative band Big Nothing, but neither project is required homework for Talking Kind. The way I’ve been explaining this album to friends, colleagues, or really anyone who will listen is to imagine a cross between MJ Lenderman, Slaughter Beach Dog, and Barenaked Ladies. A friend of mine suggested I add The Weakerthans to that mix, but to me, that triad of artists offers the perfect indication of what kind of music you’re going to get with It Did Bring Me Down.

Just take the album’s opening track, where Graham utilizes a guest feature from Radiator Hospital and The Goodbye Party to explain the band's name. Or take “Never Bored,” a cautionary tale about what can happen when the dirtbag lifestyle catches up with you. There’s power-pop perfection on songs like “Brand New Face,” which is followed by one of the year's best love songs, then a crushingly sad lo-fi cover of a Radioactivity song. Elsewhere you have an unforgettable, star-making melody on “Damn Shame” and a track that name-checks fellow Philly musician Greg Mendez for a funny little closer to the year’s best album.

There’s no grand narrative, complicated lore, or months-long music-video-based rollout to keep track of with this record, just a collection of eleven stellar songs that all speak for themselves. It’s felt like literal magic to have been making memories to these songs for the last four months, and I can’t wait to see what other moments they go on to soundtrack in the future. It Did Bring Me Down is plainspoken, clever, empathetic, freewheeling, and kindhearted, all things I hope to be. What better thing to have as my humanistic North Star than my favorite album of the year?

December 12, 2023

Swim Into The Sound's Staff Favorites of 2023

December 12, 2023/ Taylor Grimes

I won’t beat around the bush too much, but before we get into our staff’s favorite records of 2023, I’d just like to take a moment to brag about them and what an awesome year we’ve had.

Back in January, I put out a call for new writers and the response was greater than I ever could have hoped for. A couple dozen people reached out to me, and about half of them went on to become regular contributors over the course of 2023. Reviews, premieres, single write-ups, interviews and more all flowed from the minds of these incredible writers, all of whom are doing this purely for the love of the music.

Aside from those more traditional bits of music writing, we also established a regular monthly column called Haters Delight, which took this blog in a more timely, goofy, and gripey (but still good-natured) direction that fell outside our usual perview. While I was a little nervous about wading into such negative waters at first, I soon discovered that pretty much everyone loves a communal bitch sesh.

These writers also helped widen the scope of this blog and the music we cover. Through expansive quarterly roundups (including the one you’re about to read), they honed raw passion into thoughtful write-ups, making the case for artists that I typically wouldn’t be able to speak eloquently on or even know to cover. Who would have guessed that bringing in a talented slew of people also meant a wealth of new passion and perspectives?

At the time of writing, we’ve published 69 articles this year (nice), amounting to a little over 100k words total. About half of those have been penned by our talented team of guest writers, and I think that goes to show just how much these people have helped make Swim Into The Sound feel like a real music blog, not just some dork typing about emo music into his Macbook.

When we published our first-ever Staff Favorites roundup back in 2021, I talked about how lucky I felt to have this talented team of writers at my back, and now that feeling is amplified tenfold. I couldn’t be more proud of this team or their work; they make me want to be a better, more well-rounded music writer. Scroll down to read about their favorite albums of this year, then go follow them on social media, and support all of their projects. Each and every person in this article is talented beyond belief with taste to match, I have no doubt you’ll come away from this with a list of incredible new music to check out.

Without further adieu, here are Swim Into The Sound’s Staff Favorites of 2023.

Nickolas Sackett | Greg Mendez – Greg Mendez

When I was younger, my childhood home was often blanketed by the background hum of a random radio station or TV show. I didn't have a strong concept of actors or fiction yet, so there were times when I would fall into the conversations of Law & Order or Sex and the City and believe I was listening in on real people out there somewhere. The songs on Greg Mendez remind me of that (perceived) window I thought I was stealing looks through as a child– stolen glimpses into a world far away from my own, hushed confessions and painful stories told in a whisper from behind a lit cigarette in an alley. And yet, despite how bleak these stories can unravel, their mere existence reminds you that although all of this can be quite painful and terrible, there's still so much beauty to be found.

Other Highlights:

Indigo de Souza - All of This Will End (review)
Field Medic - Lightisgonept2
André 3000 - New Blue Sun
Taylor Swift - 1989 (Taylor’s Version)
100 Gecs - 10,000 Gecs
Olivia Rodrigo - Guts
billy woods & Kenny Segal - Maps
Chuquimamani-Condori - DJ E
Earl Sweatshirt & The Alchemist - VOIR DIRE
Jungle - Volcano
The Drums - Jonny
Hotline TNT - Cartwheel

Joe Wasserman | phoneswithchords, Ben Sooy – phoneswithBen

I’m not sure I believe in love at first sight. Frankly, I don’t give the notion much thought. I do, however, believe in AOTY at first listen. That moment for me this year was when I first heard “If Time,” the lead single off phoneswithBen, the collaborative album by phoneswithchords and Ben Sooy of Denver rock band A Place for Owls. There is not much more that I can say about this record than what I already have on my Substack. I’m in love with its sounds and melodies, the way it speaks to me about my anxieties and worries, and the way it makes me feel comforted and okay. Before listening to this album, I felt alone with age and time. When I listen to it, all I can think about is the warmth that surrounds me.

In alphabetical order, here are five more albums that spoke to me this year:

Broken Record - Nothing Moves Me: I can’t wait for the 10-year anniversary of this album just so I can produce a podcast doing a deep dive on everything that went into it. I have so much to say about it.
Go Home - Bug: This album haunts me with its beauty and storytelling. Like stories reread and films revisited, Bug is timeless.
Hurry - Don’t Look Back: I love power pop as much as I love emo, and Hurry continues to hone the platonic ideal of Power Pop© with this record. I never want him to stop making music.
Plain Speak - Calamity: This album doesn’t make me feel like a teen or college student again; I would hate that. It does, however, recall all those big feelings of yesteryear. Even though my prediction earlier this year was wrong, Calamity remains inimitable.
superviolet - Infinite Spring: “Big Songbirds Don’t Cry” is a perfectly written song. The way Steve Ciolek plays with the motifs of colors, emotions, birds, and mores is just so fun.

Nick Webber | Vagabonds – The Pasture & The Willow

I’m very bad at picking favorites, but The Pasture & The Willow is the album that has snuck up on me the most this year, and I love a grower. The record begins with “Sungazer,” a mantra: “It won’t happen like you think.” There’s something ominous and mystical in the atmosphere, like a prophecy. As foretold, the song blooms from hushed slowcore to shoegazey/yelly post-hardcore in barely 3 minutes, an anthem for grief prolonged and an apt prologue for the fevered, contemplative vision to follow.

The album’s title evokes something literary and bucolic, and the lyrics are often painting impressionistically: pastoral scenes, trees that weep, just noticing the beauty of simple things. Interspersed are these earnest, personal vignettes of everyday life; “The Checkout Line” describes a breakdown at work, where the backroom becomes a sanctuary for the grieving grocery clerk. The infinite crashes into the ordinary.

There’s also joy in the fullest, most mysterious sense: the peaceful reassurance of waking up next to someone you love, the hope for a future out from under the thumb of the forces that conspire against your flourishing, perseverance in the pain and uncertainty. It won’t be like this forever; visions of settling down somewhere quiet in the country, longing for rest. “The peace comes to visit / But never to stay.”

The Pasture & The Willow is gentle in its heaviness, wrapped in some of my favorite guitar work of the year. I found myself reaching for it when I felt weary, anxious, or reflective. It’s the one thing that felt good to listen to when I was driving to the hospital last week (everything is fine now). It’s equal parts calm and cathartic; I’m still caught off guard at how massive the arrangements get. And at the center of it all is this preoccupation with connection. Can we cut through the curtains that separate us from each other (and me from myself) and climb on through?

Elizabeth Handgun | Water From Your Eyes – Everyone’s Crushed

Goofy yet profound, experimental and artistic yet grounded, Water From Your Eyes delivered one of the greatest albums of 2023 and possibly all time. The musicianship! The humor! The daring to go where few musicians have ventured before! It’s all there on Everyone’s Crushed. From the flurried and chaotic lead single, “Barley,” through “14,” which is mellow and shot through with longing, to the thumpy, punky closer, “Buy My Product,” the album delivers a bewildering yet beautiful tour through the minds of Rachel Brown and Nate Amos. The album also gets more interesting with each consecutive listening, rewarding close attention and an open mind. The whole project is strange and remarkable but with a little current of tender jokiness running throughout. I’m crushed!

Logan Archer Mounts | Lydia Loveless – Nothing’s Gonna Stand In My Way Again

To be fair, I must admit this is my second favorite album of 2023. I am rolling out my entire list of 100 albums on my Instagram (@sleeps.with.angels, shameless plug), and I don’t want to show off my top pick just yet. But I have a trend that seems to ring true every year: my top spot is occupied by what I think is objectively the year’s greatest musical experience, and the runner-up album is usually what I listened to the most. My bootleg third-party app streaming stats for my Amazon Music account may say otherwise, but Lydia Loveless’ sixth studio album was a cornerstone soundtrack to my year. The only two times I’ve seen the Ohio-based, alt-country singer-songwriter were in 2023, and they were at the exact same venue just eight months apart. In March, she appeared for a pop-up acoustic set at the Empty Bottle in Chicago, coincidentally enough, my second favorite venue in the city. The show mainly contained new, never-before-played material from her upcoming album that had yet to be announce. I was thrilled to hear these tracks in such an intimate setting and couldn’t wait for the final product to be unveiled.

Nothing’s Gonna Stand… arrived in September, with Lydia returning to her Chicago label Bloodshot in conjunction with her own imprint Honey, You’re Gonna Be Late. It’s a concise, ten-song collection that showcases what Loveless does best: twangy guitar rock with unforgettable hooks and melodies. Besides the excellent singles “Sex and Money” and “Toothache,” the entire record is full of no-holds-barred honest pop, like the self-effacing “Poor Boy” or the wall-crumbling breakup anthem “French Restaurant.” The track “Ghost” features the album’s title in its chorus: “Now that I’m dead, nothing’s gonna stand in my way again.” You can bet I listened to that song over and over again as I was preparing to, and successfully did, quit my job. The spring of anticipation and the late summer of constant rotation led into the fall of presentation: I soon found myself at Loveless’ tour opener back at the Empty Bottle on Black Friday, this time with her full band and a record out in the world. I stood right up against the stage again as they burned through most of the tracklisting of Nothing’s Gonna Stand…, as well as fan favorites like “Head” and the return of the oft-requested “Wine Lips.” I got her to sign my concert scrapbook, including the setlists I was able to grab from the stage at each show, and thanked her for the brilliant record. So even though it didn’t take the coveted number one spot, on a personal level, I could not have gotten through this year without it. And for the first time all year, I truly feel like nothing’s gonna stand in my way again, thanks to Lydia Loveless.

If that sounds good to you, you may enjoy some of my other favorites I’ve selected:

Sincere Engineer - Cheap Grills (Chicago folk-pop-punk international touring sensation returns with her best and catchiest release yet.)
The Mountain Goats - Jenny From Thebes (John Darnielle’s prolific catalog expands with this theatrical sequel to the 2002 classic All Hail West Texas. In some ways, it’s sort of the anti-album to its lo-fi companion, but I think that’s what makes it one of the band’s best among their last handful of titles.)
Dave Hause - Drive It Like It’s Stolen (The Loved Ones’ frontman burns through ten songs in 28 minutes, a more compact, but just as fulfilling, version of the heartland punk he’s perfected over the years.)

Ben Sooy | Gia Margaret – Romantic Piano

Last night, I felt a panic attack approaching. Car trouble, money trouble, difficult day, underlying grief, and mental instability. I was trying to breathe deeply, get to sleep, and remember I’m okay. I’ve learned a few practices to help in a time like this. I can kneel down and put my face in the carpet, I can lay on my back and slow my breath, I can count all the things I’m grateful for, I can listen to music that helps center and calm me down.

When asked about her very good (mostly instrumental) 2023 album Romantic Piano, Gia Margaret said, “I wanted to make music that was useful.” This is music that is of great use to me, personally. There are sounds from the natural world, piano songs filled with longing and peacefulness, touched by melancholy. The squeak of a piano bench, the sound of cicadas at night. It’s useful the same way walking outside and being surprised by a thunderstorm is useful; I forget about my troubles, wrapped up for a few moments in something bigger than myself. This album improves my quality of life and my mental and spiritual health in ways I can’t begin to articulate. I think it would be helpful to you too.

Other 2023 favorites:

Nick Webber - All The Nothing I Know (A thoughtful and beautiful exploration of what it means to realize that you don't know anything about anything, but that's okay! Written and painstakingly self-recorded by universally beloved human Nick Webber.)
Josaleigh Pollett - In The Garden, By The Weeds (Josaleigh and her musical partner Jordan Watko created a masterpiece, one of my favorite records of the last ten years. Dark and lonely, hopeful, heartbreaking songs for when you feel insane and need a friend.)
Plain Speak - Calamity (Plain Speak writes and records the kind of songs I've always attempted to write and record. Earth-shatteringly good indie rock in the vein of your favorite Death Cab record.)
Broken Record - Nothing Moves Me (Denver emo band Broken Record was created in a lab to make the exact kind of music I like: emo made by people who obsessively listen to Jimmy Eat World, Sunny Day, and the Cure. I would die for Denver emo band Broken Record.)
Elliott Green - Everything I Lack (Crushingly good songs about addiction and heartbreak written by a very kind human being. If you like any of the boygenius crew, for the love of God, check out this record.)

Jason Sloan | Glia – Happens All the Time

Consider the wheel. Invented in Mesopotamia, or maybe Eastern Europe, or China, or perhaps in each location independently, the wheel was seismic upon impact, perfected almost as soon as it was conceived. Millennia of human ingenuity may have added component parts here or there, but the underlying technology has remained fundamentally unchanged. You’ve heard the one about wheels and reinvention.

The beauty lies therein—a well-made wheel is still a hell of an instrument. And on Happens All the Time, Glia fashions one hell of a wheel. While they may not be inventing new textures out of whole cloth the way Kevin Shields did way back when, Glia polishes up the familiar into 41 minutes of blissful shoegaze; the shuffling drums and psychedelic guitar crunch of “Tumble” alone are worth the price of admission. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it; just make sure you make it really fucking good.

An off-the-top list of old (new-to-me) songs that meant a lot this year:

Yard Act - “100% Endurance” (2021)
Silkworm - “Couldn’t You Wait” (1994)
Breakwater - “Five” (1995)
Hard Girls - “If They Never Find Out” (2012)
Gangsta Blac - “Down wit Clique” (1998)
Prefab Sprout - “Appetite” (1985)
Thurston Moore - “Benediction” (2011)
Red Red Meat - “Gauze” (1995)
Swervedriver - “Never Lose That Feeling/Never Learn” (1993)
Nicki Minaj x Cocteau Twins - “Heaven or Super Bass” (2021)

Connor Fitzpatrick | Lankum – False Lankum

Irish music reigned supreme in 2023, well, for me at least, seeing great albums from John Francis Flynn’s contemporary twist on folk standards to Lisa O’Neill’s orchestral storytelling to Øxn’s experimental doom. But among all these towering achievements, one album stands out as a titanic classic. That album is Lankum’s False Lankum.

The Dublin doom folk quartet’s fourth album feels like a masterpiece in the truest sense as it crystallizes the band's elements into a singular, haunting tome. Lankum infuses their Irish folk with drone music, creating an atmosphere that is as menacing as it is tranquil. The stories in these songs often feature characters who live hard and wretched lives, doomed for some sort of tragic death. “Go Dig My Grave” tells the tale of a woman who ends her own life after being spurned by the man she loves. Fun stuff, right? But it's the way the band brings these stories and characters to life that makes the album so enthralling. They're at their best when Radie Peat takes on the lead vocals backed by traditional instruments like uilleann pipes and bayans as she describes the lives of the meek who did not inherit the earth. False Lankum is a dense album that rewards those who return to it, and I intend on returning over and over so I can savor every minute of it.

Katie Wojciechowski | Bully – Lucky For You

I am trying to wrangle this blurb into something that’s not jarringly tragic. And honestly, it might be a futile effort. After all, Lucky For You is about a dead dog, about breakups, about the end of the world as we know it. When you lose your dog, your marriage, or your career, there’s grief, of course, and also, there is rage. A sensation that resonates with hoarse yelps, the slamming of cymbals, chugging, distorted electric guitar chords. With Lucky For You, Alicia Bognanno of Bully has turned the shards of grief and anger into grunge-pop melodies that are as unflinching as their subject matter deserves: she lost her beloved dog Mezzi last year, after more than a decade together. These songs are the sound of her attempts to process life’s stock-in-trade heartbreaks—romantic wounds, crippling self-doubt, and the horrors of living in America—without her best friend by her side.

There have been days this year when singing along to “Days Move Slow” in my car at the top of my lungs has felt like a conversation with a friend who understands: a friend who’s a step ahead of me, who’s cracked the code of alchemizing despair into melody. Even before I knew that “A Wonderful Life” was about a dead dog, I felt Bognanno’s warm, punchy words in my bones: “What a wonderful life / my heart’s breaking on the bathroom floor” quickly became the refrain, this last summer, for my own life falling apart in real-time.

Bognanno’s vocals have a retro quality, evoking charismatic pop-rock voices from the early 2000s, like Michelle Branch or Sheryl Crow in her louder moments. But she’s not content to cash in on basic pop blueprints: like its 2020 predecessor SUGAREGG, Lucky For You leans into distortion, thick bass riffs, and, at times, full-on yelling, like in the Bikini Kill-esque final track “All This Noise.” The last two songs of the album zoom out on the sociopolitical factors that tally among Bognanno’s sorrows: the latter torching the American government in a blaze of rage, the former, “Ms. America,” a soft, piercing reflection on the improbability of the dream of motherhood in a rotten country like ours, where there’s endless funding for weapons manufacturing and none for healthcare or schools or even clean water. I listened, a hundred times over, when she sings, “All I wanted was a daughter / try my best to raise her right / but the whole world’s caught on fire / and I don’t wanna teach a kid to fight.” All that we’ve lost this year, so many of us. All that 2023 unceremoniously stomped against the curb. I’ve watched it all slip through my fingers, and I’ve carried my dog’s old collar in my backpack when I’ve bounced between temporary homes, and I’ve listened to Bully like a prayer, knowing that despite how it sometimes feels, I’m never really alone.

My other favorites:

Black Belt Eagle Scout - The Land, The Water, The Sky
Paramore - This Is Why
Kara Jackson - Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love?
Hotline TNT - Cartwheel

Russ Finn | Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band – Dancing on the Edge

Leading his band State Champion, Ryan Davis crafted cinematic songs about bar bands and barflies, using impeccable vocabulary and wit like some sort of art-school-educated Hoosier John Prine. Since his last album with State Champion, 2018’s Send Flowers, Davis has spent a lot of time painting, drawing, and writing the seven songs found on my favorite album of 2023, Dancing on the Edge.

The atypical country-rock structures and long-winded rambling found on Dancing on the Edge feel like the natural continuation of State Champion, even if it’s rebranded as a solo album. Davis’ time spent making visual art perhaps informs the striking imagery and minute details within his songs. His ability to effortlessly put the listener in a “piss-stop town,” a “shipyard plumber’s band,” or a “junk drawer heart” is unmatched. Beautiful lines like “there’s a blackened space between the back of my head and the back of my face” are found so frequently on Dancing on the Edge, it would be impossible to summarize all of the best lyrical moments in a short blurb. Instead, I suggest you listen to the opus “Flashes of Orange” and give the lyrics serious attention. For the literary-minded singer/songwriter fans out there, Ryan Davis & The Roadhouse Band’s Dancing on the Edge is an essential album and one of the best of 2023.

For what it’s worth, my second favorite album of 2023 is My Back Was a Bridge for You to Cross by ANOHNI and the Johnsons. Below are some releases from friends, acquaintances, and obscure corners of the internet I feel deserve more attention:

Spirit Furnace - Spirit Furnace EP
Heavy Quitters - Heavy Quitters
Riley Parker - Discover EP
Bailey Allen Baker - Grab a Bucket
Perfect Angel at Heaven - EP
Chief Broom - Hidden in Plain Sight
Taxiway - This is Permanent

December 06, 2023

Swim Into The Sound's 12 Favorite Songs of 2023

December 06, 2023/ Taylor Grimes

Our inevitable 2023 Album of the Year list is slow going, so as a writing exercise, I’m going to do some short little write-ups on a bunch of my favorite songs that came out this year. Believe it or not, in all my years running this blog, I’ve actually never done a roundup like this. I suppose I’ve always been daunted by other publications that can publish massive, genre-spanning 100-count lists of songs because they have an actual staff, but I am just one man. Instead, you get a hyper-biased recounting of my year through a dozen songs. I hope you love them as much as I do.

1 | Militarie Gun - “Do It Faster”

It’s hard to believe that “Do It Faster” has only been in my life for ten months. From the now-iconic “OOH OOH” to the rockin’ guitar riff and unforgettable chorus, everything about this song feels like it was created in a lab to appeal to me specifically. Aside from single-handedly revitalizing the word “stooge,” this song is a wonderful little encapsulation of where this style of hardcore sits in a post-GLOW ON world. “Do It Faster” is a poppy rock song with an instantly transferable energy tailor-made for windows-down scream-alongs, your dumbest thrashy dance moves, and the strongest finger-point you have.

2 | Talking Kind - “Damn Shame”

“It’s such a damn shame I wasn’t / damn shame I wasn’t listenin’.” Not only is that one of the best choruses of the year, it’s also what you will be saying to yourself in a few years time if you sleep on this Talking Kind record. The solo outing of Pat Graham (of Spaynard and Big Nothing), it’s easy to see why “Damn Shame” was the lead single for his new project. It only takes a couple of listens before you find yourself effortlessly singing along to these words. Only Graham can make regret sound so catchy.

3 | Bully - “Days Move Slow”

It’s been said before, but “Days Move Slow” sounds like it should be scoring the opening scene of a movie. In my head, I see Clockstoppers or Max Keeble's Big Move, the type of early 2000s kids comedy movie that could have only been made in the lead-up to the Iraq War. I see bleach blonde hair spiked to the heavens and a table full of breakfast food before our hero says something like, “Sorry Mom, I gotta jet, can’t miss the last day of school!” before grabbing his skateboard and running off to catch the bus. This song invigorates me in a way that very few ever have, and I’m more than content to live in that three-decade-old Nickelodeon-approved timewarp for two minutes and forty seconds with Alicia Bognanno as my guide.

4 | Wednesday - “Quarry”

As a certified Wednesday freak, picking my favorite song off Rat Saw God proved to be a challenge. The obvious choice might be the titanic eight-minute “Bull Believer” or the lap-steel-led “Formula One.” There’s also the ultra-singable “Bath County” or the all-too-relatable “Chosen to Deserve,” and while I adore all those songs, “Quarry” eventually revealed itself to me as the song off the Asheville denizens fifth full-length LP. This track really has it all: depressed small-town imagery and hyper-specific personal details, plus it all builds to a joyous, swaying shoegaze riff. “Quarry” also has a vehicle-filled music video that, much like everything else in the Wednesday Universe, showcases the band’s penchant for cute, creative, and endearing art. Wednesday forever.

5 | Greg Mendez - “Maria”

In less than two minutes, Greg Mendez managed to convert practically everyone from a curious listener into a ravenous fan. The second single to Mendez’s excellent self-titled record, “Maria,” offers a harrowing tale of drug use and self-destruction, but wraps it in a melody that somehow feels timeless, as if it’s always been here. The instrumental is modest, just a guitar and drums, allowing Mendez’s voice to take center stage, presenting him as the heir to both Elliot Smith and Alex G’s throne. A cautionary tale turned into an immaculate bit of songwriting and artistry.

6 | Ratboys - “It’s Alive!”

Channeling equal parts Rocky Mountain hiker and evil scientist, “It’s Alive!” is one of the most joyous songs of the year, a track that never fails to fill me up to the brim with optimism, hope, and light. Like the first warm day of spring, listening to the emphatic “It’s Alive!” is like stepping outside, feeling the sun's rays across your skin, looking up to a clear blue sky, and filling your lungs with a big puff of crisp air. In a way, this song channels a similar sense of naturalistic wonder as Ratboys’ own 2021 megahit, “Go Outside,” but swaps that song’s post-COVID anxiety with boundless optimism and happiness. A powerful feeling to have at the click of a button.

7 | Superviolet - “Overrater”

While I was late to the party with The Sidekicks, I was right on time for Steve Ciolek’s new project, Superviolet. As the lead single, “Overrater” had a lot on its shoulders: introduce the new band to mourning Sidekicks fans, get people geared up for the full record, and maybe even convert a few new fans in the process. As living proof of the third one, I can point to “Overrater” as the precise entry point for my fandom. The song begins with a pace-setting electronic beat but soon explodes to life in a fun-loving blast that feels like the music equivalent of breaking into a full sprint. Even as bullies surround us and insults fly, persistence prevails, allowing the listener to stride out the door with a fresh outlook and indomitable spirit.

8 | saturdays at your place - “tarot cards”

At the beginning of the year, I had no idea who saturdays at your place were. Despite living in Detroit for a couple of years and digging deep into the emo scene, I was unaware of the talent amassing across the state in Kalamazoo. saturdays materialized over the course of the pandemic, emerging with a nine-song record in 2021 and segued that release into a No Sleep signing as well as an impressively realized EP, which they dropped at the top of the year. Having since amassed over 2.5M plays on Spotify, “tarot cards” is an undeniable emo song, boasting a god-tier riff, cathartic group chant, and tried-and-true lyrics of being awkward at a party. No wonder why this track has been subject to TikTok trends and dumb memes alike; it has the sauce to become a generational Midwest Emo song like “Two Beers,” “Death Cup,” or “Cinco De Mayo Shit Show.” Before I get too ahead of myself with hyperbole, I’ll slow down and look forward to screaming along to “tarot cards” for many more concerts to come.

9 | Slow Pulp - “Cramps”

Yet another record that was hard to pick any one song from, the sophomore outing from Slow Pulp is chock-full of throwback indie rock that shines and shimmers like the light bouncing off a lake. While Yard was preceded by four absolutely immaculate singles, “Cramps” was the first out the gate and set an immediate high bar that signaled a level-up from 2020’s Moveys. Beginning with a powerful burst of drums, the band quickly locks into a shoegazy sway as lead vocalist Emily Massey sets the scene with snarling lyrics about wanting it all. The whole thing rockets forward for a sensible three minutes, complete with crunchy guitars, spry drumming, and a nifty little drop-out at the end to ease us down from the high-energy state.

10 | Caroline Polachek, Charli XCX, George Daniel - “Welcome To My Island (Remix)”

While you might be surprised to see a remix on this list, it only takes one listen to understand why I love this pumped-up, electrified version of a Caroline Polachek classic. Sure, I liked Desire a fair bit, but throw some spicy Charli XCX verses in the mix and put it all over a club-ready beat? I’m IN. I’ll also cop to having the biggest crush on Charli XCX, so hearing her spit one of the horniest verses of her entire career always gets my heart rate up just a little. Barring my personal affinity for curly-haired party girls, it’s also cute to hear Charli write these lines of wanting a “white dress, countryside, house, and kids” over an instrumental that her (now) fiancée has made. That’s true power couple shit, and I love it for both of them. Throw all of that on top of Caroline Polachek’s anthemic opener, and you have a recipe for success that will soundtrack car rides, gym visits, and amped-up pre-game playlists from now until the end of time.

11 | MJ Lenderman - “Rudolph”

Four drum hits and we’re off to the races. MJ Lenderman’s “Rudolph” kicks off like a celebratory firecracker with a swampy twang beat and the perfect amount of pedal steel. The first line goes on to confirm that, yes, this is indeed the Rudolph you’re thinking of. Lenderman bellows over his bandmates and his own fuzzed-out guitar, screaming of Lightning Mcqueen and making a self-referential call-back just a line or two later. Of course, there’s a sick guitar solo, and then they hit us with one more chorus because they’re professionals. They also give us that bouncy little four-note countdown one last time, and let me tell you, I can’t wait to break out my freakiest dance moves to that next time I see it live. “Rudolph” is a perfect between-album entry to the MJ Lenderman canon, ending up feeling like a victory lap for both Boat Songs and a celebration of his signing to Anti- Records. The only thing I love more than seeing dudes rock is seeing dudes win.

12 | Talking Kind - “Pretty Flowers”

First off, yeah, I know what you’re thinking, ‘another Talking Kind song on this list??’ To which I say YES, believe it, It Did Bring Me Down is that good. On the mid-album cut “Pretty Flowers,” the stakes are set immediately in plainspoken words: “I bought some pretty flowers / I was going to drive to your grave after work / Instead, I pulled over and cried and cried and cried.” Basically everything is on the table from the outset, all wrapped in a melody anyone could hum along to. The rest of the song grapples with mortality and loss as Pat Graham belts an MJ-like chorus of “I'm still working it out. Yeah, baaaaaby, I'm still just working it out.” A minute later, our hero still hasn’t found a compromise as Graham sings, “I don't think I'm ready / I don't think I care if I'm ever ready,” then interrupting his own rhyme as he sings “spaghetti” and holds the last note like a piece of putty. It’s an absurd, hilarious, and endearing little non-sequitur to end the verse on, which was, up to that point, a pretty forthright meditation on death. He hits us with one more chorus, allowing the listener to either laugh at his joke or croon along, making for a fun little musical choose-your-own-adventure. It’s a heartwarming moment packed into the exact middle of this 3-minute gem that makes me appreciate the craft of songwriting more than I ever have before.

Listen to a playlist of all these songs (plus some outtakes) above. Alternatively, if you want even more and would like to see all my favorite songs of the year in chronological order, check out this playlist.

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