Heart Sweats: A Swim Into The Sound Valentine’s Day Mixtape

Rip open that box of chocolates, pour that red wine, and grab some chalky heart-shaped candies, ‘cause we’ve got a lovey-dovey Valentine’s Day roundup for all you hopeless romantics out there. In celebration of the most amorous holiday, we asked the Swim Team about their most memorable music moment tied to their love life–it could be something that made their heart melt, something that made them cringe with embarrassment, or a song that played during a confession of love that they’ll never forget. Regardless, we wanted to hear about those moments when the music stuck an irreversible chord with their heart. 

Here’s a playlist of each song as a little Valentine’s Day mixtape from The Swim Team to you. I strongly encourage you to listen along as you read and enjoy the happy-accident tonal whiplash in the sequencing. We hope you have a love-filled Valentine’s Day, please have an extra chocolate-covered strawberry in our honor ❤️


Death Cab for Cutie – “Passenger Seat”

The road from Southern Illinois University to Missouri Baptist University is about 40 minutes. Maybe 35 when you speed down the highways in your Ford Focus. It was a route I became deeply familiar with in 2008. My now-husband was studying to be an engineer, and I was getting a communications degree I had no clue what to do with. We’d spend hours together watching stupid comedies in his dorm room before I would sneak out to try to make it back before the 10 PM Baptist curfew. I spent those autumn trips diving into albums, but the one I always came back to was Death Cab for Cutie’s Transatlanticism. I would queue up the title track as I started the drive, but I always slowed my car down the second it turned to “Passenger Seat.” As if obeying the song, I would roll the windows down and watch the deer of the campus fields look up at my headlights before returning to their indifferent grazing. The smell of crisp autumn leaves and bummed American Spirits would flood my car as I made my way through the empty streets. Then, once the song was over, I would hit repeat. 

Death Cab would come to play a big part in those early months of our relationship. He even asked me out with a ticket to their Narrow Stairs show, and if he judged me for crying throughout the set, he never showed it. This year will mark our 14th year of marriage, and with that comes 14 years of changes, most of which are good. We’re wildly different people than we were our freshman year in college. Yet the second I hear those opening piano keys, I’m back on the road in my busted Focus, smiling as the leaves fall down around the deer of the field. 

– Lindsay Fickas


Less Than Jake – “The Rest of My Life” 

When I was in middle school, I had a big crush on one of my neighbors. We’d hang out a lot, but things never really took a romantic turn. Whenever anything happened that reinforced the fact that we’d likely never be a couple—be it her getting a new boyfriend or saying that she wasn’t interested in hanging on a particular day—I’d go into my room and blast this song on loop while fantasizing about moving to a different neighborhood where there was a neighbor who loved me back. I would never have admitted this back then—both because it’s very pathetic and because my appreciation of “The Rest of My Life” ran counter to my stance that Less Than Jake were traitors for abandoning ska to make milquetoast pop-punk—but now I’m ready to tell the truth. Also, for the record, I don’t think I ever actually believed what I was saying about Less Than Jake being traitors for their stylistic shifts; it’s just the sort of thing that’s fun to say when you’re 13 (though I was hyped when GNV FLA came out and they brought the horns back). 

– Josh Ejnes 


Talking Heads – “This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)” 

In the summer of 2014, I lived in Richmond, Virginia. My wife and I had been married for almost 3 years, and we had just moved away from Denver in order to reinvent our lives in a new city. We lived in Richmond’s Church Hill neighborhood, and I was making 26 thousand dollars a year working for a non-profit. We had no money, no friends (because we were in a new city), and no real idea about the future and what shape it would take. Spotify had recently gotten a real hold on me, and I was rediscovering my love of making playlists. One playlist I made that summer was just 60 minutes of different covers of “This Must Be The Place.” I remember us dancing around our small apartment, trying desperately to figure out how to execute the logistics of “sing into my mouth.” I don’t know, man. Every year with Kate, I think I understand that song more and work to be in love that way even more deeply. Will you love me till my heart stops? Love me till I’m dead. Eyes that light up, eyes look through you. Cover up the blank spots, hit me on the head.

– Ben Sooy


Ezra Furman – “I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend”

Perhaps it’s a bit obvious to use this song to ask out a girl, but I’ve never been one to catch subtlety, so when I got a message from my future wife with this song in it, I, of course, still had to be sure she was saying what I thought she was. Unfamiliar with Ezra Furman, a transgender woman making punk that falls between Laura Jane Grace and PUP, I quickly looked up the lyrics to the song. After all, you don’t want to accidentally miss that the third verse could be sarcastic and mean the opposite of what it appears on its face. Thankfully, I found no such thing and quickly said yes as I read the lyrics, “That’s right, little old me, I want to be your girlfriend and blow your mind each night when you come home.” Subtle, it was not. Having gotten caught up in the energy of the moment, I didn’t actually listen to the song and wouldn’t for weeks. Less than a year later, I married the girl. I’m happy to call myself a fan of Ezra Furman’s now, with this song being particularly heartwarming as a moment I can share with my wife every time it comes up on a playlist or album listen. 

– Noëlle Midnight


Car Seat Headrest – “Beach-Life-In-Death” Live at the Royale in Boston

On this day in 2019, I was staring at Will Toledo.

In the second semester of my sophomore year of college, I was fresh off a breakup when my friend threw out that we should see Car Seat Headrest when they came through Boston. It was an immediate ‘yes’ for three reasons: I love my friend and would do whatever with them, Car Seat Headrest was the most important band to me in college, and I needed to hear “Beach-Life-In-Death” live. The show was on Valentine’s Day. I don’t remember much of the show, honestly. I remember the opener sucked, I remember a crowd surfer dropping directly into my friend’s arms, and I remember piles of college kids smoking Golds outside. But what I remember most fondly is waiting for “Beach-Life-In-Death.” I think it’s still my favorite song, but back then, it felt so big and so meaningful (it still does, so I guess that’s why it’s still my favorite). Which brings me back to the beginning of this. On this day in 2019, I was staring at Will Toledo, washed in a pink glow, with my friend, screaming the lyrics to my favorite song together. Love is so beautiful. 

– Caro Alt


Sufjan Stevens – “Decatur, or, Round of Applause for Your Stepmother!”

For someone who has largely built their life around music, I can’t make a playlist to save my life. I rarely listen to songs outside the context of albums, and if someone passes me the aux cable, Lord have mercy on the hapless souls trapped in the car with me: the vibes will be chaotic. If I were a wedding DJ, I’d have people bolting for the fire exits.

My wife Ellie learned this the summer of our first year dating. I flew out to visit her at her family’s place in Minnesota, and we decided to take a day trip to Duluth. We set out before sunrise, and since she was driving, she tasked me with music duties, requesting “peaceful early morning vibes,” which started out okay! Indie folk à la Gregory Alan Isakov, Iron & Wine, The Head and the Heart, First Aid Kit, coffee shop core (non-derogatory). And then I queued up a little ditty from Illinois by Sufjan Stevens: “Decatur, Or, Round of Applause for Your Stepmother!” In my mind, this was a perfect song for a Midwest road trip, but Ellie burst out laughing as soon as she heard that perky banjo and accordion cutting through the predawn tranquility. It’s an obvious misstep in retrospect, as we went from sweet whispery love songs to goofy rhymes about chickenmobiles and making amends with your stepmom. In any case, the vibes were totally off the rails from there; I unearthed our collaborative playlist on Spotify, and somehow, we ended up at “Guilty Cubicles,” a moody post-rock instrumental from Broken Social Scene’s debut.

This began a tradition of sabotaging drives by dropping “Decatur” in the middle of completely incompatible queues (it’s sort of my version of Rickrolling, specifically for my wife). Eight years later, it’s a sweet way to remember one of my favorite days with Ellie, just driving up the North Shore, sharing our favorite songs, and stopping at every lighthouse we could find.

– Nick Webber


Insane Clown Posse – “The Nedan Game” 

TikTok has transformed my girlfriend into a Juggalette, which means she has pushed all her chips in on the court jesters of horrorcore, the Insane Clown Posse. How did this happen, you say? The culprit lies in the freshly painted face that goes by the username @carissadid. Carissa is a sight to behold as she metamorphosizes from human into clown while rapping seamlessly to a different ICP song in each video. I’m afraid a spell has been cast abound my girlfriend, as she has watched far too many of her posts and is past saving at this point. I fear one day I may be ambushed in my sleep with Violent J’s face paint on me or, even worse, Shaggy 2 Dope’s. 

The Neden Game,” which is my girlfriend’s favorite ICP song, is a crude humor spoof of the show The Dating Game. The track plays over in my head repeatedly like I’m trapped in some kind of vulgar clown P.O.W. camp that would have had Bozo turn in his red nose and oversized shoes. The song sounds like it would play at frat parties in between keg stands for degenerates. If you see me at this year's Gathering of the Juggalos festival, I have been held against my will in a Liam Neeson Taken-type situation. If this happens, please, someone call the F.B.I.

– David Williams


The Sidekicks – “A Short Dance” + “Don’t Feel Like Dancing”

For a relationship that’s more or less founded on a shared love of music, I find it odd that my girlfriend and I don’t have “a song.” There is no single piece of music that we can point to as “ours,” on the contrary, it’s more like we have the opposite problem: there have been far too many songs that feel like connective tissue throughout our three years together. I suppose when faced with hundreds of possible songs, dozens of back-and-forth playlists, and a seemingly unending spool of bands we’ve bonded over, it becomes hard to pare it down to just one entry. 

Thus, this is but one pit stop in a densely populated field: the one-two punch of “A Short Dance” and “Don’t Feel Like Dancing” by The Sidekicks. Starting with the 48-second prelude, “A Short Dance,” is how so many relationships start: trepidatious and unsure–a nervous and unshakable energy as you psych yourself up for the big moment. You can imagine all the possible futures just as quickly as you can picture the stinging rejection. Either way, you find the courage to accept your fate and approach this person, ready for any outcome. 

In comes “Don’t Feel Like Dancing,” a joyous explosion of love and adoration. Over sun-splotched major chords, Steve Ciolek explains how nothing in life (not dancing, not flowers, not even ridiculing dudes!) is as sweet as when you’re experiencing them with your person. Avoid the pit of nostalgia! Sip that mimosa! Fucking boogie! You can make excuses all you want; you’re gonna get pulled onto the dance floor no matter what.

– Taylor Grimes


Pup Punk – “My Real Girlfriend”

The first thing my now-partner ever said to me was, “Hey, nice shirt!” The second thing she ever said to me was a suicide pass. Pointing at her sister, she said, “Do you think we’re twins?” I correctly answered, “No?” and it’s been a love story ever since.

In the first 18 months of knowing her, we had 20 in-person days together. We met while I was briefly in Minnesota for a conference, but otherwise, I was studying abroad in France. We hit it off immediately, sending each other a playlist less than 24 hours after meeting (mine to her, hers to me) and dooming ourselves to a year and a half of extra-long distance FaceTime calls.

Nowadays, we’re much closer—just a short 8-hour drive away or 4 hours of airport and plane time! While we were on different continents, telling our friends about each other felt very much like this song: “She’s a model, you don’t know her // She lives in Minnesota where it’s colder // I’m in love and you’re not // My real girlfriend’s really hot.” The catch is she is really real—I swear! We have pictures together!

I look back on that time when we were so far apart and wonder how we ever did it. Ultimately, what made it possible, and what makes our relationship so strong, is complementary knowledge of pop-punk and emo music. That, and a strong foundation of mutual respect and shared love for all forms of music and humor or whatever.

– Braden Allmond


David Gray – “Please Forgive Me” 

“We don’t have A Song, do we??” I had to text Emily.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t think we do??? I’m ashamed..” she replied.

Surprising, and ironic, because so much of what we love about each other started with our taste in music. Hers isn’t exactly like mine, nor vice versa. But we love many of the same things, and we’ve opened each others’ worlds to new and different music. I now know about Modest Mouse’s deeper cuts, and she now knows whether ’91 or ’84 was a better year for the Grateful Dead (it’s ’91).

It’s a new relationship, though moving very quickly (we’ll be roommates in May!), and it has been built on vulnerability and honesty. Communication has been the number one factor in the initial success and comfort of our relationship. For two people who haven’t had the most luck in the past, this feels like our first adult relationship. We both feel totally at peace and have the liberty to speak our minds and lay bare our vulnerabilities.

“I will ALWAYS think of you sending me ‘Please Forgive Me’ by David Gray but idk if it’s *our* song. Just one of the first moments I remember being like oh shit, I’m so cooked,” she said.

“Please Forgive Me” is a song about falling deeply in love with someone fast and having to ask their forgiveness because you’re acting like an absolute freak. And that’s just perfect for us.

“Feels like lightning running through my veins / every time I look at you.”

– Caleb Doyle


Alanis Morissette – “You Oughta Know”

There are pros and cons to every romantic entanglement. With this one in particular, the pros were that he had fantastic music taste and was very funny, while the cons were that he refused to sing karaoke and was cheating on me. While we were together, he was in a Jagged Little Pill phase, and for a few weeks, we’d blast it every time we drove in his car. He, karaoke-averse, was always taunting me, a karaoke devotee, with a potential pick—“Okay, I think I’d actually do this one”—and “You Oughta Know” was his latest false promise. “I’d go up to a guy with a girl and sing ‘and are you thinking of me when you f— her” in his face as a bit,” he’d joke, flipping his hair. 

Well, you mess with the cat, you get the claws, I think to myself in the karaoke bar a few months ago in Brooklyn, stepping up to finally lay his alleged pick in its grave. “And every time I scratch my nails down someone else’s back, I hope you feel it,” I yelp to the room full of starry-eyed lesbians. Karaoke’s supposed to be light, and perhaps a little too much real rage seeped into my performance, but I think Alanis would understand. I hope he can’t hear her without feeling like shit, and I hope he’s thinking of me when….nvm.

– Katie Hayes


Antarctigo Vespucci– “Impossible to Place” 

My relationship with Claire is full of false starts. We kept matching on Tinder for years as I reset my account, and finally went on two good dates at the start of our junior year in film school, which resulted in me ghosting her and dating another girl for a month. 

Right after ending that interim relationship, I was out to dinner with my friends and scrolled on Instagram to see a photo of Claire. My spirit floated at the sight of her gentle smile, her beautiful black hair, and those sparkling eyes behind her tortoiseshell glasses, and I knew I wanted to rest my head against her leg forever. Two days later, we were on a kinda-first-kinda-third date for coffee. She viewed it as a revenge date, a chance to rub it in my face that she’d gotten picked for our film school's elite Spring Break trip to LA, but it ended with us cuddled up on my twin-size bed, showing her Star Wars for the first time. On the way from coffee, we stopped in my apartment's mailroom to pick up my copy of Love in the Time of Email, Antarctigo Vespucci’s sophomore record. As we watched Star Wars, I murmured the chorus of Antarctigo Vespucci LP1 highlight, “Impossible to Place,” Chris Farren’s soft plea to his wife to “stay, stay around me / for the evening.” Claire asked what I was singing, and so, for the first of hundreds of times, we listened to the song together. 

If you asked me what I feel for Claire, I would sputter and stammer that she’s my best friend, that she’s the person who makes me laugh the most, and that she has a mind I adore. But none of those words really captures the feeling. 

When she left the morning after our first/third date, I posted a Snapchat story of me holding up Love in the Time of Email with the caption, “If she doesn’t make you feel like an Antarctigo Vespucci song, she isn’t the one.” When Claire asked if that was about her, I lied and said it was a general statement. But the truth is that “Impossible to Place,” with those layers of angelic vocals on the bridge, Jeff Rosenstock’s lackadaisical chiming guitar riff, and the longing in Chris Farren’s voice, is the only place I’ve been able to pin down the pure essence of what feels like to love Claire. 

– Lillian Weber


KISS – “I Was Made For Lovin’ You”

I have talked about KISS way too many times for an indie/emo-leaning blog, and I thank Taylor for letting me get in my zone once again here. It is the biggest cultural phenomenon that I am the most in love with, so it finds its way into all aspects of my life, including the romantic ones. But I won’t be talking about “Bang Bang You,” “Take It Off,” or “Let’s Put The X In Sex.” The story goes that Paul Stanley wrote “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” and brought it to Gene Simmons, with Stanley singing the dark and sensual verses and sticking Simmons with the “do do do do do do do do do” chorus backing vocals. It’s a divisive song among the KISS Army; some fans love and embrace it, as it was a number-one charting hit in multiple countries (but only as high as 50 in the States). Some fans disown its disco flavor, the Dynasty album it came from, and nearly everything that followed for the next 40 years. It was teased in the fantastic Detroit Rock City film, released in 1999 and taking place in 1978, where a character named Christine, played by Natasha Lyonne, notes, “[It’s] so big right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if KISS made a fuckin’ disco song.”

I saw KISS for the first time in 2017 and took my then nine-months girlfriend, despite her previous disdain for the band due to an annoying Ace Frehley obsessive from her high school. From one night, she was a convert, if maybe initially just being considerate to my obsession. And she’s done just that for the last eight years, standing by my side through every phase and fixation, listening to my diatribes about how Gene tried to reunite The Beatles on his 1978 solo album, and how Paul was clearly lipsynching on the End Of The Road tour, but I suppose it’s better than him sounding like shit. I saw KISS six more times on that tour between 2019 and 2023, and she patiently accompanied me to half of them. We spent my 27th birthday in Las Vegas at the KISSWorld exhibit and mini golf course at the Rio Hotel & Casino. Truly, we’ve shared so many bands, songs, and musical moments in our relationship that it feels unfair to focus on only my dumb one. Music is the foundation that brought us together in the first place, from a year of Tumblr DMs about Hostage Calm and Japandroids to finally meeting at Riot Fest 2016. But she’s my Dr. Love, she’s hotter than Hell, and she’s my rock and my roll, all nite, all the way. I was made for lovin’ her. Do do do do do do do do do.

– Logan Archer Mounts


Amber Run – “I Found”

“Do you like him?”

My best friend Kris and I were sitting in my grad school apartment, cross-legged on my bed. She had just asked me the above question, and I, though embarrassed, admitted that I did, in fact, have feelings for the boy in question. I mean, Kris didn’t even need to ask; it was more that I just needed to admit to my crush aloud. (Everybody could tell. It was really, really obvious.)

A few weeks later, I handed my crush a letter scribbled on notebook paper. I was way too nervous to try to confess out loud, so I let this missive do the talking for me. You can imagine the beaming joy that washed over me when he admitted his mutual feelings. We were already close friends, but neither of us had ever talked about the obvious chemistry and bond that we had. 

After that day, we would spend hours together in a rickety car (borrowed from a generous friend), driving through the Florida dunes at night. We talked about anything and everything and would hit the Whataburger drive-thru for fries and malts afterward. It was a glorious and happy season. On those drives, we would take turns picking music to listen to, and one of my favorites was the gorgeous and moving “I Found” by Amber Run. The lyrics describe finding love “where it wasn’t supposed to be / Right in front of me.” It fits our relationship so perfectly, and I still smile whenever I put it on. My favorite version of this song is their Mahogany Session, which features the London Contemporary Voices. It’s recorded a cappella in a cathedral, and the melancholy beauty of this song is captured so perfectly. 

We found love right in front of us and kept it - this May marks our seventh year of marriage.

– Britta Joseph


The Beatles – “I Will”

Forgive me for writing more about the Beatles in the year of our Lord Paul twenty twenty-five. The world may be exhausted from ceaselessly hearing about how good these four fuckers were as a band, but fortunately for my last.fm scrobbles, I’m far from exhausted. “I Will,” despite being slightly buried towards the tail end of The White Album’s first disc, is far from a deep cut. It’s my favorite Beatles ballad (there’s no need to get started on other qualifiers) and also the second half of my favorite Beatles sequencing choice. Immediately following a lowdown bluesy number about, um, mid-highway exhibitionism is one of the sweetest love songs ever laid to tape.

It bears a simple conceit. “Love you whenever we’re together, love you when we’re apart.” Well, yeah, that’s what love already is. Most songwriters wouldn’t get credit for laying out obvious facts with a pleased grin plastered on their Liverpudlian face. In McCartney’s words, facts are utterly ignorable. He merely caught a glimpse of the song’s subject — that was enough for a galactic force of love to obliterate him. The simplicity is necessary. Sometimes, you’re so smitten that even the most glaring truths need to be reiterated; sometimes, it’s all that grounds you. The plainspokenness of the song is cradled by softly strummed intervals and a capella vocals sneaking into the bass register. The love depicted is unadorned with instrumentation to match.

Before I even met my partner, I would sing this song nonstop. Queuing up the 2018 White Album mix in full aside, “I Will” played in my daydreams and trickled from the clouds. When I was singing it, my voice belonged to the song and to whomever might one day hear me. In the absence of a lover’s song to fill the air, I was unconsciously hellbent on providing the air with an ample supply of music. At least the oxygen and I could enjoy it together. After falling in love, the song didn’t leave my mind, but it doesn’t occupy the air nearly as often. There is someone else’s song. The constant dawning of romance is null and void. It never really mattered; I will always feel the same. Sing it loud so I can hear you.

– Aly Eleanor

Pitchfork Music Festival 2024 Recap

As far as music festivals go, Pitchfork tends to be one of the better ones. It may not be as gargantuan as Lollapalooza, as buzzy as Coachella, or as tapped-in as Rolling Loud, but you know what Pitchfork has that most other festivals don’t? Identity. 

For better or worse, Pitchfork is a festival designed around one of the world’s most influential music publications and the particular tastes of its readers. Since this festival is centered around such a longstanding entity, the lineup tends to be more curated and intentional than other festivals which often fall into the trap of trying to be everything to everyone. Sure, it’s easy to look at lineups for bigger festivals and imagine how cool it would be to see Megan The Stallion, Deftones, Ethel Cain, and blink-182 in the same place, but in practice, it’s sweaty, messy, overpriced, and you rarely get to “see” many of those artists in a genuine way. 

In contrast, Chicago’s Union Park also translates to a near-perfect festival layout, converting its 13.5 acres of grassy fields and tree-lined borders into wide-open spectacles and tucked-away stages that each feel like distinct areas. There’s ample room for the festival’s three main stages, food vendors, beer tents, merch stations, record stores, local artists, companies handing out free tchotchkes, and a smaller side stage dedicated to artist interviews. It can get pretty packed, but it’s never that hard to traverse, and you can generally get a pretty great view of any artist’s set, especially if you plan ahead a little bit. 

Location aside, the “indie”-leaning lineup of Pitchfork feels like it typically strikes a nice balance between up-and-coming bands, recent breakthroughs, and more enduring legacy acts of all genres. This year, the top-level headliners closing out each day were Black Pumas, Jamie xx, and Alanis Morissette. Directly beneath them, you had artists like Jai Paul, 100 gecs, Carly Rae Jepsen, and MUNA, all legendary projects to a very specific type of person. I personally was excited for Saturday’s shoegaze gambit, where the schedule flowed from Hotline TNT to Feeble Little Horse and Wednesday, each stacked one after the other like the promoters took a page directly from my Spotify Wrapped. 

I’ve only attended one other Pitchfork Music Festival in 2022, so I was eager to return and see what’s changed in the last couple of years. Going in, I was interested in how Pitchfork’s recent fusing with GQ under Condé Nast would impact the vibe, if at all. Truthfully, I wasn’t planning on  until Swim Into The Sound’s own David Williams approached me with a behind-the-scenes photo pass, and I didn’t want to miss out on that opportunity. Below, you’ll find thoughts from me, David, and Logan Archer Mounts on the weekend, along with David’s photography, all shot on 35mm film for maximum coolness. 


Day 1

My group ambled into Union Park at 1 pm on the dot, right as the first band was ramping up. The fields were empty, the sun was out, and all the vendors were at the ready with beer and hot dogs. It’s always fun to see festival grounds like this before they get trampled in and filled out by the crowds; there’s a sense of boundless possibilities knowing that three full days of live music await you. Black Duck prattled through a jazzy improvised set that felt like a nice way to roll into the day with relaxed vibes. Angry Blackmen were true to their name, bringing an aggro hip-hop energy that felt like it properly set the festivities off before ML Buch took us to gazy dreamland.

Rosali was one of the first acts on the lineup that I was actively excited for; her album from earlier this year is excellent and has one of the most striking covers of 2024. Exactly as I had hoped, Rosali brought the homespun southern rock vibes, with her backing band locked in for a couple of inspiring jams, including a particularly rousing version of “My Kind.” The group closed their set with “Rewind,” an absolutely undeniable song that was joyful to watch unfold live on stage after being obsessed with it since January.

After a quick lunch break (aka paying $20 for a chicken wrap), I caught slices of Billy Woods, Amen Dunes, and Sudan Archives, each of whom had their own commanding presence. Billy Woods and Kenny Segal kept the crowd on their toes with off-kilter beats and urgent lyricism while Sudan Archives strutted through a solo set of hip-hop-infused R&B, pulling out her violin at key moments and shredding a melody before sheathing it and returning to vocal duties. 

Back in May, we published a review of Amen Dunes' most recent album, which I quite enjoyed but leaned in a reserved, ambient direction. I was surprised to see him playing with a full band and playing such “band” type songs. Their whole set was super fun, oscillating between a DIIV-like grooviness and slightly more upbeat numbers that sounded almost like Future Islands.

Yaeji graced the Red Stage with a theatrical performance shelving out hit after electronic hit during the tail end of day one. Dressed in Shaq-sized cargo shorts and a black tank top, Yaeji moved and grooved through the summer sun with ease. Her blend of R&B, techno, and synth-pop had everyone’s attention the moment she started her set. The crowd erupted when one of her biggest hit songs, “Raingurl,” bled through the speakers, sparking an impromptu dance-off among the fans.
– David Williams

Yaeji to 100 gecs was a pretty lateral move, but definitely brought the Friday Energy that we needed and helped make it feel like the party was really starting in earnest. I watched about half of the 100 gecs set and realized I barely knew their latest album. I still enjoyed seeing “stupid horse” live and will admit that I got full-body goosebumps during the chorus of “Hollywood Baby,” but the set could only feel so “big” given that it was just two people playing songs off a computer. It's still cool to see 100 gecs live after following them for so long, but I’m not sure their set quite hit it home for me. 

I didn’t watch all of Jai Paul’s set, but I did walk by Red Stage just to see the man in the flesh with my own two eyes. I had places to be, specifically catching Jeff Rosenstock’s set over on the blue stage, which was exactly as energetic, shouty, and boisterous as any Jeff Rosenstock set I’ve ever witnessed. The crowd was jumpin, Jeff crowd-surfed while playing sax, and I ate a Chicago dog while taking it all in, a great way to cap off day one. 

I left before Black Pumas started playing both because I didn’t care to catch their set but also because I was headed over to Subterranean to catch Hotline TNT’s aftershow, which was more like a pre-show since they were playing the next day. I watched the opening band, Graham Hunt, from the upper-level balcony, and then I was able to make it right up front for Hotline’s set, which was a swirling delight of hypnotic riffs and loud-ass guitars. I was beyond tired at the end of day one, but it was worth it to see a band like that play an entire set from less than ten feet away.

Day 2

Chicago’s own Lifeguard kicked off day two with the sort of youthful energy only achievable by a group of kids still approaching their twenties. At various points, the trio shifted around from a traditional lineup of guitar, drums, and bass to drums and two guitars, all rendered in an impressive and jagged post-punk style. The lead singer, Kai Slater, was on crutches, so he played the entire set seated, but with that loss of mobility came the opportunity to use one of his crutches during a solo, which was a helluva way to start things off as we sipped on our free coffee.

I caught parts of L’Rain and Kara Jackson before Saturday’s shoegaze onslaught. L’Rain brought the dreamy vibes with lots of slow post-rock builds, mellow beats, and gorgeous vocals layered on top of everything. I only caught a song or two from Kara Jackson, but they were jaw-droppingly beautiful. At one point, she interpolated SZA’s “Love Galore,” and the crowd let out a “Woo!” of recognition. 

Starting at 2:45, Hotline TNT rocked reliably, fusing together into one giant mass of riffage, and even broke out a few songs that they hadn’t played the night before. The crowd was consistently swaying and head-bobbing but didn’t seem to erupt into the same type of chaos I had witnessed at Subterranean, presumably because people were saving their energy for the rest of the weekend.

Feeble Little Horse were wild to see in concert after feeling like they were on the brink of breaking up after an untimely hiatus right as they dropped their second album. It was still too close to Black Country, New Road’s shakeup, and fans were bummed but understanding as we wished the band the best and hoped for their eventual return. Seeing a song like “Chores” live was an experience; there are so many janky little beats and knotty twists in their songs, it was impressive to see them break that all out live. At one point between songs, the guitarist stepped up to the mic and said, “These are songs from an album Pitchfork gave a seven,” which got a laugh from the crowd before he continued incredulously, “We’re like, ‘why are we here?’ Why do they want us?”

At one point, we were halfway through Feeble Little Horse’s set, and I was glimpsing over my shoulder to see Wednesday sound-checking on the Green Stage and felt like I was in my own personal slice of heaven. To be sandwiched between these two bands I’ve been listening to obsessively for years was almost too much for my brain and brain to compute. 

Shortly after that, Wednesday ripped through a scorching set of career-spanning material, rolling through songs from all three of their albums, plus a Drive-By Truckers song thrown in for good measure. They played a few new songs and lightly teased their upcoming album in an interview directly after the set, with Karly stating she’s even more proud of this batch of songs than their last but promising it very much feels like a continuation of Rat Saw God. Of course, the North Carolinians ended their set with the titanic “Bull Believer,” allowing the audience a chance to air out any anger and frustrations they might have had at that moment, either with life or just the state of the world. It was cathartic, it was twangy, it was beautiful.

De La Soul’s set was a celebration for hip-hop, and as DJ Maseo yelled over the microphone, “40 years of friendship!” Legendary rap group gave the crowd exactly what was advertised with a nostalgic trip down memory lane, performing their biggest hits, “Potholes in My Lawn,” and my personal favorite, “Me, Myself and I,” courtesy of the film Good Burger. Surprise guests Talib Kweli and Pharoahe Monche kept the crowd jumping nonstop. Posdnuos made it a point to tell the fans in attendance that it was his duty to bring it for them every night. De La Soul lived up to that reputation tenfold.
– David Williams

Between sets, I got to chat with MJ Lenderman and capture his portrait in 35mm film, which I like because the photos look cleaner and more classic. Film is timeless; there's a reason why movies today still look better shot in 35mm instead of digital. The portraits of him and the band give a vintage feel that, if you didn’t know better, you might not know if the photo was taken yesterday or 30 years ago. Lenderman's reputation of having an everyman demeanor was right on the mark as he couldn't have been a more gracious and friendly guy as he put up with my silly questions like "Who's your all-time favorite wrestler?" (Rey Mysterio and Mick Foley) or "What ‘dumb hat’ were you singing about that drew so much ire in "Taste Just Like It Costs?" (A golf visor). Truly a hat so hideous that it’s worthy to be sung about with such disgust. 
– David Williams

After screaming it out to Wednesday and catching Karly Hartzman’s post-set interview, it was time for a pulled-pork sandwich and Bratmobile, who brought hearty doses of Pacific Northwest riot grrrl energy. After that vent session, it was time to get a good spot for The Queen, aka Carly Rae Jepsen. We scootched up as close as we could comfortably get while still having ample room to dance and jump around for a solid hour as Carly jumped from one sugary confection to the next. I had seen her back in 2019, and this set was just as elating and life-affirming as the one I saw five years ago. 

Day 3

Day three started a little slower (because I’m in my thirties, and three days of music festing was beginning to take a toll), so we headed over to Union Park an hour or two after doors to catch glimpses of Joana Sternberg, Maxo, and Nala Sinephro.

I took a chance on Nala Sinephro from a friend’s recommendation as “a killer ambient artist,” which was enough to sell me. Although at my first Pitchfork Fest back in 2011, I caught ambient titan Tim Hecker on the Blue Stage, who played right around the golden hour while other, louder acts played on the mainstages, and I can’t say it was the perfect setting. Sinephro was much more than just drones, though; her band ran through spaced-out jazz and rhythmic electronic music as Sinephro alternated between harp and keyboards. It was a beautiful way to ease into day three, and I’m anxiously awaiting her new album in September.
– Logan Archer Mounts

Model/Actriz frontman Cole Haden started the band’s set by coming out, applying lipstick, then walking across the stage and posing with a purse before grabbing the mic. That was about all I saw before catching MUNA and Mannequin Pussy interviews on the side stage, which was a much chiller (and much needed) way to start the day on a relaxed note. 

From there, Jessica Pratt brought some of the prettiest vibes of the whole fest, with everyone in the band sitting, so it really felt like an intimate, laid-back show you’d catch in a backyard or a beer garden. “I look like a pallbearer,” Jessica Pratt slyly says into the mic, dressed in all black, practically melting under the hot mid-July sun. Fortunately, that heat didn’t stop her from delivering an intimate set that the crowd enjoyed with a hushed tone during the full hour, giving Pratt the space to clear out for her brilliant storytelling and gorgeous melodies.
– David Williams

Mannequin Pussy started a few minutes late and dealt with a couple of technical difficulties, but they are true rock stars and ran through their scheduled set exactly as intended. Missy is probably one of the best front people in music right now, dancing, posing, and strutting across the stage without missing a growl. At one point, Missy asked all the boys in the audience to raise their hands because she “wanted to see what kind of fucked up dude would go to a Mannequin Pussy Show” then asked us all to scream “pussy” as loud as they could and simply replied “pathetic” when it wasn’t loud enough. She then asked the entire crowd to scream the same thing simultaneously because everything’s better together, right? They played all the hits off this year’s I Got Heaven and slammed all their one-minute punk tracks back-to-back toward the end of the setlist for a full-throttle injection of adrenaline that kept the pit in constant motion. Simply one of the best. 

How many opportunities do you get to see a hip-hop pioneer live in the flesh? Grandmaster Flash is hip-hop’s Lewis and Clark, so this was a must-see set if only to see the face of the man who helped lay the groundwork for an entire genre. Grandmaster Flash was on DJ duty, spinning the 1s and 2s, keeping everyone’s energy up under the humid heat. Getting to hear the beat to “White Lines” live, one of the greatest straightedge anthems ever, was an absolute treat. Only second to Flash dropping in “Sweet Home Alabama” and then immediately shouting “FUCK A STATE TROOPER!” At the Visit Austin Interview stage, I got genuinely emotional listening to Flash talk about the birth of sampling and his “quick mix theory,” how he used to buy two copies of one record, mark them up with crayon to count how many times a record revolved with one beat loop, and switching between turntables to create the endless pattern. Also, he invented the turntable slipmat with the help of his seamstress mother because there was too much traction on his early decks for him to be able to do his scratching and backmasking. An absolute legend.
– Logan Archer Mounts

I generally think of MUNA as something not for me, but I’ll admit, watching the band bounce around the stage (and off each other) as the sun set was a pretty picturesque music festival experience. The songs started to blend together a bit toward the end of the set, but you know I had to show up and throw down for “Silk Chiffon.”

Care to witness a show based solely on chillwave vibes? Then look no further to the psychedelic rock group Crumb. Their song "AMAMA" was a personal favorite of mine, where it feels like you just get strapped in and feel the grooves from the jump. Whenever you see them, just know that they will have you swaying back and forth like one of those inflatable tubes you spot at random gas stations. 
– David Williams 

Les Savy Fav is exactly the type of band I want to see more of at Pitchfork. I grew up on 2000s indie rock, and even though Les Savy Fav wasn’t my most listened-to band of the time, I had always hoped they would get back out there after their hiatus began in the early 2010s. After an exhilarating performance on Riot Fest weekend in 2021, the NYC group brought the same energy back to Pitchfork, now on the heels of their excellent new album OUI, LSF. Like Model/Actriz earlier in the day, singer Tim Harrington spent most of the set in the audience, beginning minutes before the first note was even played by riding a Lime scooter around the crowd, then straight down the center to the barricade before jumping onto the stage. Harrington was covered in glitter with a neon-dyed hair/beard combo and a shirt that read “I’M JUST HAPPY TO BE HERE,” which was removed a few songs into the performance to reveal the same message scrawled onto his stomach. Whether they were playing their ten-week-old songs or their ten-year-old songs, Les Savy Fav was an uncontrollable ball of energy for the duration of their 45 minutes, raucously closing out the Blue Stage for the weekend. 
– Logan Archer Mounts

Brittany Howard brought electronic-infused funk rock to the Red Stage on Sunday night, going deep into her seemingly endless bag of skills. She quarterbacked the entire set, using each instrument at various points and playing each one with the confidence and panache you would expect from someone of her caliber. She pulled off an effortless and joyous performance that felt like the perfect soundtrack as the sun wound down to night. 
– David Williams

Finally, the inimitable Alanis Morissette closed out Sunday with a set that pulled heavily from Jagged Little Pill in addition to tracks from her entire repertoire, sometimes only playing a verse and a chorus of a song as a transition between two others. It felt theatrical, with potential inspiration from her Jagged Little Pill musical that’s been running the last few years. She had the crowd wrapped around the hand in her pocket the entire time; her voice is still absolutely unreal, and watching her close out such a fantastic and full weekend was special.