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.

Wednesday and Hotline TNT: Indie Rock's Newest Mega Powers

In the late 80s, the World Wrestling Federation was looking for global domination, so they dreamed big and made a team-up for the ages. Like a child playing with action figures, the WWF took their two biggest attractions, Hulk Hogan and Macho Man Randy Savage, and paired them together, forming a colossal duo known as the Mega Powers. Fast forward to today, and a new mega powers has launched, but instead of parading down the aisle lathered up in baby oil only dressed in the tightest of skivvies, these mega powers take the stage in flannels, vintage rugby shirts, and distressed clothing. On tour, two of the hottest indie rock bands, Wednesday and Hotline TNT, went scorched earth all over the greater United States for a triumphant seventeen tour dates. 

Both bands were coming off landmark 2023 releases, making this tour feel like an extended victory lap. Wednesday, best described as the sonic intersection of The Smashing Pumpkins and Drive-By Truckers, released their fifth studio album, Rat Saw God back in April. Together, the ten tracks on Rat made for a swampy countrygaze record that wound up near the top of pretty much every publication’s end-of-the-year list. Then, in November, Hotline TNT offered up shoegaze with a pop perspective on their ground-shattering sophomore record, Cartwheel, released on Third Man Records and packed to the brim with crushing riffs and catchy hooks. I knew I had to see these songs for myself, so I took the pilgrimage from Chicago down to Miami to witness the spectacle of distorted, blown-out guitars and lap steel with my own two eyes. It was a windy mid-60-degree February night where most of the country would dream of weather like this, but for a city as warm and vibrant as Miami, looking around at the locals, you thought you might have been teleported to the North Pole. 

Photo by David Williams

The stage was set for good old-fashioned rock n roll, only with a tropical twist. The background of the stage was lined with fish scales in all kinds of neon greens, oranges, and yellows, with tiki hut straw coming down from the top of the ceiling. Essentially, it's as if the concert was set in the movie Cocktail; I wouldn't have been shocked if I had seen a Tom Cruise wearing a Hawaiian shirt while slinging ice-cold Mojitos to over-served patrons at the bar. 

We’re lucky to live at a moment in time where people can witness face-melting performances in an intimate setting by bands who feel destined for superstardom. In a perfect world, Wednesday's Rat Saw God should have been nominated for Rock Album of the Year at the Grammys, and Hotline TNT's Cartwheel should have got the band nominated for Best New Artist. Karly Hartzman, frontwoman of Wednesday, known for turning the dredge of everyday living into veering country rock anthems, is a star in the making. Will Anderson, the brains and brawn behind Hotline TNT, crashes with a tidal of distorted guitars that plummet down on you in waves. 

Photo by David Williams

Anderson is a towering presence on stage, standing at 6 foot 5, sporting bleached blonde hair with a green spider web design as if he was caught in the crossfire while Peter Parker was fighting a supervillain. He brought out a small militia of guitarists with him that continuously pummeled the audience in droves of catchy riffs. At one point in the show, Anderson, a consummate showman, peers into the crowd to say, “The first person that does a cartwheel gets 15% at the merch table.” What a guy! After a few failed attempts from fans, one kid finally hit the cartwheel with grace and balance, like something you would have seen in the Summer Olympics. Sure enough, a man of his word, Anderson points to the merch booth and nods his head in approval. The kid got his discount.

One of Anderson's best qualities is creating music that needs to be played at brute-force volume. Think Macaulay Culkin from Michael Jackson's "Black Or White" video blasting his dad into orbit. The live experience only enhances each song, where you can feel the fury of distorted guitars almost lifting you off your feet. Hotline TNT opens the set with “Protocol,” which teases you for a good minute of lead in guitars before kicking into high gear with drowned-out riffs. By their third song, the pop-influenced 90s alt-rock hit “I Thought You’d Change,” you’d never want the show to end. 

Photo by David Williams

From there, Wednesday tags in with a vicious rendition of "Hot Rotten Grass Smell," Hartzman comes out in a checkered picnic pattern dress with black lipstick and Doc Martens. The outfit looks as if Laura Ingalls Wilder had a goth phase. She carries a bright and bubbly demeanor on stage. Her personality is paired with a refined coolness, generating an IT- Factor that not too many artists have today. Guitarist MJ Lenderman, who has a rapidly ascending solo career of his own with his 2022 alt-country classic Boat Songs, has also begun to reach a cult-like status. I spoke to an older gentleman with a long white Duck Dynasty-length beard who drove 2 hours from West Palm Beach just to see Lenderman play guitar. That just goes to show you the cross-generational talent potential this band possesses. 

While Hotline TNT's emotional core lies in the overpowering guitars, Wednesday's heart lies within Hartzman's songwriting. She has a knack for making the ordinary feel downright transcendent. The vivid pictures she paints with her lyrics are so clear it feels like we have known the characters within these songs for years. The fans feel a special connection with her as she turns everyday life into rock anthems. She can make the most mundane objects like candy bars on Halloween or blasting bottle rockets enthralling. So by the time the last verse in "Quarry" hits, the whole crowd sings along to Mandy and her boyfriend getting arrested when cops discover cocaine in the drywall. The set ends with the grungy 8-minute-long "Bull Believer," which sees Karly reaching down deep to belt out blood-curdling screams, seemingly letting loose of the pain she accumulated throughout her life. The audience is more than happy to reciprocate by going bat-shit crazy themselves letting loose guttural wails until the entire crowd becomes a teaming mass of noise. It was a cathartic experience.

One thing I noticed throughout the night was the pure camaraderie among the bands. When Hotline TNT was performing, Karly Hartzman was off to the side, hooting and hollering to every song. She looked like a proud soccer mom watching her kids score the winning goal. During their set, Anderson kept glancing over, motioning for her to come on stage until, at last, his persistence paid off. Worlds collide for the Hotline TNT’s closer as Hartzman struts on stage to assist in singing a masterclass in shoegaze rock, "Had 2 Try." At one point, while Anderson was hammering on the whammy bar and testing the limits of his guitar’s strength, Hartzman leaned down to untie one of his New Balance 550s. It's refreshing to see such absolute fun being had on stage while you can also feel the joy and passion of the performance. This tour feels like a triumphant moment shared by two of America's most captivating indie rock bands. The night ended up being a championship-level victory, and they didn't even need to hit someone over the head with a steel chair. 


David is a content mercenary based in Chicago. He's also a freelance writer specializing in music, movies, and culture. His hidden talents are his mid-range jump shot and the ability to always be able to tell when someone is uncomfortable at a party. You can find him scrolling away on Instagram @davidmwill89, Twitter @Cobretti24, or Medium @davidmwms.

Swim Into The Sound's 10 Favorite Albums of 2023

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 PulpYard

Anti

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 RiderReal Melody

Chillwavve Records

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 | SupervioletInfinite Spring

Lame-O Records

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 placealways cloudy

No Sleep Records

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 | BullyLucky for You

Sub Pop Records

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 | RatboysThe Window

Topshelf Records

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 | PhonyHeater

Counter Intuitive Records

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 TNTCartwheel

Third Man Records

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 | WednesdayRat Saw God

Dead Oceans

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 KindIt Did Bring Me Down

Lauren Records

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?

Hotline TNT – Cartwheel | Album Review

Third Man Records

I was 20 years old when I first found out about Weed… The band, not the substance.

I used to hang out at the record store where I currently work when- one day, a used copy of Running Back by Weed came in. When Dollhands (now Clearbody) put out our first EP, the label that pressed tapes for us compared our music to Weed, but I thought it was just a joke and not an actual band. As soon as this record was staring me in the face, I knew I had to buy it without a second thought. Sure enough, I got home, threw Running Back on my record player, and it changed my outlook on music forever. I had never heard anything like this collection of songs; I had found my first holy grail of a record. 

I think Will Anderson understands that feeling more than most people in bands do. Hotline TNT did an Audiotree Far Out back in 2019, this was my first exposure to the group. Having already spent countless hours with Weed’s KEXP session, I quickly realized that this was Will’s new band, and needless to say, I was an instant fan. The first thing I did after watching that Audiotree was open up Spotify and type in Hotline TNT- to my surprise, nothing showed up. I then searched YouTube and found out that the only way to get these songs was to download them through a Mediafire link in the description of Fireman’s Carry. Back then, the only way to hear Hotline TNT was through YouTube, vinyl, or this janky Mediafire link. I grew up torrenting on Limewire, so this wasn’t a foreign process to me, in fact, it felt special like I was the only person that had this on their phone. 

All this to say, I’ve been closely watching the metamorphosis of this band, and Cartwheel feels like a victory lap after the longest possible NASCAR race of all time. The band is firing on all cylinders here, and with a bare-bones 33-minute runtime, not a moment is wasted. This record blends the perfect mix of cool style, cuteness, and loud-ass fuckin guitars. The textures of guitar tone are unlike anything I’ve heard in any other album, 100 other bands could try all the studio wizardry in the world and not achieve sounds like these. At its core, the tone sounds like it’s being built with an acoustic guitar, but it’s fuzzed out to the max. I especially love the color the 12-string adds on “Stump,” the record’s heartfelt closer. 

Cartwheel starts with the first two singles, “Protocol” and “I Thought You’d Change.” I was lucky enough to first hear “Protocol” last year when I saw Hotline open for Snail Mail and Momma. The song blew my mind then, and it somehow still does every time I hear it. My favorite track on the record is “Spot Me 100,” the way Will starts the song with “Squad car, caught you on the Autobahn” really does something for me. The lyrics are buried underneath all the layers of guitar, as God intended, but when one slips through the wall, it sticks with you for the rest of the runtime.

When you break down all the songs on this record, it’s the old man’s definition of Shoegaze, simply pop songs that are played deafeningly loud. Personally, I love how skewed the meaning of shoegaze has become; the genre can truly be whatever the artist (or the listener) wants it to be. Some people will call this a lo-fi record, maybe even just a rock record, but to me, this is the closest anyone has gotten to making our generation’s Loveless. Cartwheel is easily my favorite record that’s come out this year, even the interlude track is a contender for one of the best songs this year. 

After being a fan for so long, this LP exceeded my already high expectations. Cartwheel is a career-defining album for Hotline TNT. I love seeing this band win, I love it whenever I go to their Spotify page and see those monthlies go up. They’ve been grinding for years at this point and have been playing the game their way, and it’s really inspiring for someone like me to see that you can do it YOUR way. Being in a band is hard work, it took me the better part of two years to write songs for my band’s last release, so I can hear all the love and hard work that went into Cartwheel. I often think about how we’ll view records 20 years down the road; the process of putting out an album is so quick, and sometimes it feels like people forget about music a week after its release, but this is not one of those records. Even though it’s only a few weeks old at this point, it’s clear that Cartwheel will easily be a touchstone of this era of music.


My name is Eric Smeal, and I play in a band called Clearbody. We put out a record called Bend Into a Blur earlier this year, and I’m very proud of it. We play shows and tour sometimes, but right now, I’m just out here living life, writing our next record, working my day job, taking photos, etc. My handle everywhere is @amplifierwrship, thanks for reading!