Cover Collector – August Browns

Design by Ryan Morrissey

I don’t know about you guys, but I love a good album art collage. One of the first things I do every Friday is head over to tapmusic.net and render a 4x4 chart of the albums I listened to most over the past week. At the end of each month, I do the same thing with a 5x5 that recaps my previous 30 days of listening. By the time December rolls around, I look forward to recapping the last twelve months with a gigantic 10x10 grid in an unwieldy encapsulation of the 100 albums that defined my year. 

Is it a little self-aggrandizing? Sure, but it’s also a fun way to see a quick snapshot of what my last week, month, or year has sounded like. At its best, this practice has led to fun conversations and solid recommendations going back and forth with friends as we bond over specific albums. Sometimes it’s that shared love over a deep pull from years gone by, other times it’s just noticing trends with a recent fave that seems like an unshakable presence week in and week out. At the very least, I suppose it’s satisfying to see a bunch of records that I feel an affinity toward lined up and embodying a specific stretch of my life. 

At some point near the tail end of last year, I conceived of a more communal way to bring this love of album collage to life. Because, sure, getting a live readout of your listening history is cool, but this is also about album art, an essential part of the experience and something us music nerds can fixate on just as much as the songs that sit beneath the cover. As such, I’m excited to welcome you to the seventh edition of Cover Collector: a monthly installation where the Swim Team discusses some of our favorite albums based on album color. For August, we’re writing about beautiful browns.


Ministry – ΚΕΦΑΛΗΞΘ

Sire Records

Ministry’s fifth studio album, alternatively titled Psalm 69 so you don’t have to decode or pronounce the original Crowleyan scribe, is the last in the band’s foundational trilogy of industrial metalworks and miraculously granted them mainstream success. Following 1988’s The Land Of Rape And Honey and 1989’s The Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Taste (aka the heaviest album of all time), Al Jourgensen continued to push the envelope for rock and electronic music with this 1992 release that spawned timeless genre anthems like “N.W.O.” and “Just One Fix.” The record landed just four days before the band spent the rest of the Summer on the second-ever Lollapalooza tour, where they utterly crumbled stages across America, highlighting many of the unrelenting and aurally taxing compositions they had just unleashed upon the public. Its crown jewel, “Jesus Built My Hotrod,” has always been my favorite Ministry song, from the intro featuring Gibby Haynes of Butthole Surfers to the real-hotrod-speed thrashing throughout. Ministry’s return for 1996’s Filth Pig was long-awaited after the mania of Psalm 69, and while I love it for its specific harshness, it was a clear departure point from the classic records that preceded it. Psalm 69 is necessary listening from the nineties, a time when even the most extreme music on the planet could end up on a major label.

— Logan Archer Mounts


Hel Toro – Gimmick

Self-released

If you’re surprised I’m not writing about Pile, don’t worry, I sort of still am. Hel Toro is Rick Maguire’s early-aughts project, released just before Pile. It’s noisy rock and roll, lyrically cutting, with pentatonic glimmers throughout that hint at the distinct style already present in Rick’s writing. Released in 2007, Gimmick is the band’s second album, coming four years after their debut, Tabula Rasa. Ragey and brash, I consider Gimmick the perfect soundtrack to watch the zenith of late summer slowly wilt and sag towards the ochre-tinged earth. The opening track “Holes Up” grabs the listener by the collar and yanks them in, screaming lyrics straight to their face: “I don’t wanna watch you draw it out, cause I’m not that good of an artist!” Brown paper album artwork and a splatter of scribbled handwriting across the front perfectly relay the grimily textural undercurrents of this sophomore release. 

– Britta Joseph


billy woods – Aethiopes

Backwoodz Studioz

Since its April 2022 release, billy woods’ Aethiopes has been a cold comfort to my summers, especially my Augusts. I can’t pinpoint why, exactly. Maybe the timbral palette of Preservation’s beats provides the right soundtrack to the month’s sense memories: the brassy, aberrant synths of “No Hard Feelings” pierce the ear like a noon sun hits the eye, the pinging rides and dusty acoustic strings of “The Doldrums” sizzle like heat haze above pavement. Or maybe the seamless, live-mix style transitions throughout the LP mimic how days blend together in the thick fog of a late-summer malaise. 

But in revisiting the record this August for Cover Collector, another possibility stands out as I run back woods’ verse on “Christine,” in particular. Here, the producer’s sparse, eerie production also lends fitting support to the MC’s lyrical vignettes, which connect a series of haunted narratives around and in cars as weird, liminal spaces. What I find to be a more fitting image than the 1957 Plymouth Fury nodded to in the track title, though, emerges with the vocal reuse of The Wailers’ “Mr. Brown.” In the source track, a Lee Perry plate that was passed over as the instrumental for “Duppy Conqueror,” Bob Marley recounts a folktale where a ghost driving a three-wheeled coffin rides around Jamaica in search of a ‘Mr. Brown,’ unnerving folks from Mandeville to Sligoville. woods repeats the borrowed line thrice, like an incantation: but is this a curse or protection charm? I can hear it both ways, and that emotional ambivalence reads like an echo of the close-cropped Rembrandt painting that serves as the album cover.

– J. P. Cupps


Bill Callahan – What a Night!

Self-Released

Outside of Yo La Tengo, Bill Callahan might be the ideal model for a career in indie rock. The dude has been making music for almost four decades, documenting phases of his life through his plainspoken baritone voice and poetic lyrics, first as Smog and then under his own name. What a Night! is a 90-minute live album that sees an artist at the peak of his powers. The lineup features just Callahan on guitar and vocals, with his compatriot Jim White on drums. Together, these two craft entire worlds, whether it’s the 11-minute odyssey of “Riding for the Feeling,” the swaggering, chunky groove of “Cowboy,” or the rendition of “Coyotes” that spills out to nine minutes. It’s like witchcraft the way these two are able to conjure massive swells of emotion from such simple ingredients. It’s modest and cosmic, but just feels like a staggering achievement to take in. The setlist is a no-miss greatest hits that shows exactly why Callahan has been able to cultivate such a long and illustrious career. He’s a craftsman, and this record is like a finely furnished piece of upholstery – an oak armchair you can sink into that doesn’t creak or shift an iota. A sturdy entity that justifies its own existence in the most self-evident way. 

– Taylor Grimes


Oso Oso – basking in the glow

Triple Crown Records

As per a Billboard interview with Oso Oso’s founder and frontman, Jade Lilitri, the thesis of basking in the glow is, “taking in the good things, just accepting what comes with life.” Operating in an unabashed laissez-faire manner has always been the Long Island unit’s cut– all while effortlessly creating the kind of music that many bands spend their entire careers chasing. basking in the glow, released two years after the acclaimed sophomore LP, the yunahon mixtape, had immense shoes to fill. Lilitri, obviously undeterred by this, managed to level up with his 2019 release, which was also the project’s first on legendary label Triple Crown Records. 

At a time when emo as a genre had entered a definitive lull, basking in the glow proved that some bands in this scene were not condemned to the lightning-in-a-bottle effect of their first or second LP releases. While Oso Oso’s music toes the line between emo, pop-punk, and indie, it blends seamlessly to create infectious hooks where every song could legitimately be a single. basking in the glow is undoubtedly a love record at its core, with what could be interpreted as religious undertones woven throughout. This is probably most evident on “a morning song,” where Lilitri flippantly admits, “living on my knees, praying blessings crashed into me.” 

Whether it’s basking in the glow of faith, a thriving relationship, or the incandescent bulbs of a busted H&R Block marquee, Oso Oso confirms there is meaning to be found in whatever life throws at you.

– Brandon Cortez


Dikembe – Chicago Bowls 

Death Protector Collective

If you don’t already know, Chicago Bowls is an emo-DIY classic. In 2011, Dikembe made their debut with a digital-only EP, featuring song titles spoofing player names from the ‘95-’96 Chicago Bulls, one of the strongest NBA Finals teams in the history of the league. The track names are “Scottie Spliffen,” “Luc Bongley,” “Michael Jordank,” and “Tony Kukush.” Making your song titles portmanteaus of weed and sports celebrities is a strong choice, but one perfectly suited for such a strong EP. It opens and closes with a conversation from the coming-of-age sitcom Freaks and Geeks in which Jason Segel’s character is showing off his ornate drum set to the show’s main character, Lindsay Weir. He ends by imploring her to “find her [own] big, gigantic drum kit.” I’m writing this about a decade and a half removed from the EP’s release, and I feel like the world is much more complicated now. The fact that two primary components of the album look backward suggests Dikembe knows that feeling too.

About a year after the EP, the band released their first full-length album, Broad Shoulders. To give you an idea of what they were up against in 2012, here are a few other albums that came out that year: Floral Green by Title Fight, Sports by Modern Baseball, American Radass by Dads, Colourmeinkindness by Basement, Just Married by Glocca Morra, Colors by Sports, and Grow Up, Dude by You Blew It! In a year of heavy hitters, Dikembe not only holds their own but stands out as a band that was ahead of the curve, putting together an all-star lineup of tracks that epitomize the genre in under ten minutes.

– Braden Allmond

Janet Jackson – janet.

Virgin Records

In 1993, there was a case to be made that Janet Jackson would be the most talented Jackson from then on. This wouldn’t even have been a hot take at the time. Janet’s big brother Michael was entering a turbulent point in his career. The King of Pop was being dethroned as his personal life was brought under a fiery, scorching-hot microscope, combined with the public perception that his 1991 album Dangerous didn’t live up to the standard of his previous work. (Let me go on record that I personally love Dangerous – the New Jack Swing first half of that record still hits like Mike Tyson in his prime.) But you have to give credit where credit is due; little sis Janet proved to the entire world she’s a bona fide star, and the music she made on janet. is the exact reason why. If you said Janet is the most talented Jackson, you wouldn’t even have sounded like an ESPN talking head blowhard just saying things for clickbait. 

The early nineties were the time when Janet leaped out of the ginormous shadow left by her big brother. The music on janet. is a career-defining blend of neo-soul mixed with a touch of new jack swing, and just the right amount of house music. This was groundbreaking, superbly done, and incredibly horny. From the provocative album cover, steamy lyrics, and sensual music videos, Janet was taking the reins of her sexuality and entering adulthood. Looking past the horniness of it all, the album had mega hits: “That’s the Way Love Goes” was a chart-topping banger; “Any Time, Any Place” was an instant classic that hip-hop artists have sampled out the wazoo; “Because of Love” will have your body doing moves you didn’t even know you were capable of. This record not only set her apart from her own blood, but established Janet as the mood board for future generations of R&B artists. 

– David Williams


King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard – Omnium Gatherum

KGLW

Omnium Gatherum is an odd bird. It's the kind of album that opens with a 20-minute sprawling environmentalist jam session before moving into… synth-pop? hip-hop? thrash metal? krautrock? bossa nova? Yeah, it's a lot to fit into one album, which is part of why this ends up being Gizz's longest album to date. Not designed as a cohesive album, it’s meant to be heard as a collection of ideas that didn't fit anywhere else. Omnium Gatherum challenges and excites by constantly taking turns that feel exciting and novel without ever slipping into being disorienting or off-putting. 

As is common for King Gizzard, the lyrics are about environmentalism, though there are some detours into less dour fare, such as in the Beastie Boys-inspired “Sadie Sorceress,” where multi-instrumentalist and singer Ambrose Kenny-Smith dons his alter ego, The Shrimpomaniac, and raps about an elderly witch. Or the easy-going “Persistence,” where frontman Stu Mackenzie uses the language of cars and motorsports to coyly talk about sex. Of course, it wouldn't be a true King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard record without at least one song about some horror with a thirst for blood, and we get that in “Predator X,” a thrash metal ripper that pays homage to Meshuggah as we see the band fully leaning into palm-muted chugging guitars in complex time signatures.

Ultimately, Omnium Gatherum comes across as a sampler platter that any newcomer to Gizz's work can approach, giving them a smorgasbord of options as they decide what flavor of Gizz they want more of. The fact that it’s also the source of many of the band’s most popular tracks is just proof of the power of Gizz.

– Noëlle Midnight


Farewell Continental – ¡Hey, Hey Pioneers!

Paper + Plastick

There’s nothing quite like the surprise and elation when you find out one of your favorite bands has a side project you knew nothing about. Whether you’re a fan of alternative side projects such as The Postal Service (Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie), The Prize Fighter Inferno (Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria), or City and Colour (Dallas Green of Alexisonfire), learning about your favorite artists’ expanded universes always felt like a reward in the fledgling days of the internet. My love for Motion City Soundtrack is deep and well-documented at this point, but I spend significantly less time singing the praises of singer Justin Courtney Pierre’s short-lived second band, Farewell Continental.

JCP put together ¡Hey, Hey Pioneers! in between the release of Motion City Soundtrack’s fourth and fifth albums, and his desire to create something different really shines across this oddball one-off. Back-to-back tracks “The Greatest of All Time (How You Feelin’ Now?)” and “Dagger, Dagger: Terror, Terror” are my go-to pulls from this album and succinctly showcase everything I love about the unfortunately standalone LP. You still get JCP’s unmistakable vocals and inherent knack for pop rock, but the addition of Kari Gray’s vocals, grittier textures, and experimental melodies creates this seductively unique quality that I love to revisit every now and again, particularly as we shift into the “-ber months.” 

– Ciara Rhiannon


Jackson Browne – For Everyman

Asylum

Taking this one literally and writing about a Brown(e) album. Widely speaking, Jackson Browne is an underrated figure in the 70s music lexicon, and one of the greatest singer-songwriters of all time. Though he started by writing hit songs for others, he quickly carved himself a niche in the Laurel Canyon folk rock scene. Browne wrote the Eagles’ “Take It Easy” and Nico’s “These Days,” among others, both of which appear on his second album For Everyman.

Browne had barely graduated high school in the late 1960s when he joined the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, left to live and make music in Greenwich Village, and then returned to Laurel Canyon, all in the span of a few years. His youth never impeded his acumen as a songwriter, and For Everyman is perhaps his songwriter-iest. His self-titled debut album contains one of his biggest hits, and his fifth album, Running On Empty, is his most famous, but For Everyman contains his most breathtaking lyrics.

Many successful musicians get to write their own lore—to the victor go the spoils, etc. Some of it may be true, some of it may be artificially enhanced. The way Jackson Browne always tells it, he wrote “These Days” when he was 15 years old. I refuse to be skeptical of that, because it actually greatly enhances my appreciation of the song to think a 15-year-old boy wrote the lyrics “don’t confront me with my failures, I had not forgotten them.”

He may not have had the flash of Don Henley, or the mystique of Nico, but Jackson Browne’s For Everyman proves he could always write any of them under the table.

– Caleb Doyle


Ms. Lauryn Hill – The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

Ruffhouse Records

Brown is the worn surface of a classroom desk; brown is back-to-school autumn; brown is the backdrop for a student who sits down and realizes how much they still have yet to learn. Thematically, it’s where The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill begins: the iconic album art shows Ms. Lauryn Hill’s face etched into a wooden desk, and the first track is a teacher’s roll call. What follows is a generational run of songs making melodic and emotional sense of life’s headiest lessons.

Miseducation weaves a cohesive, but far from tidy, narrative about a young woman baring her soul to lovers, navigating fame, choosing motherhood, and reconciling her roots. If any of the above sounds trite, it’s only because of the countless imitators Hill herself spawned with the release of this fundamental work. Set to timeless grooves, inimitable rap/vocal interchanges, and impossibly catchy choruses, Ms. Lauryn Hill’s songs remain the blueprint for the everywoman-philosopher journey.

Hit play on this revered record and school is in session.

– Katie Hayes


R.A.P Ferreira – bob's son: R.A.P. Ferreira in the garden level cafe of the scallops hotel

Ruby Yacht

It’s impossible to talk about Bob’s Son without specifying who the whole album was written about in the first place. The “Bob” in question is Bob Kaufman, a significant Black poet commonly associated with the Beat Generation (and, depending on who you ask, the person who came up with the name) as well as a style of art known as Afro-Surrealism. His poetry, like a lot of his Beat peers, was heavily informed by the jazz that coated the streets of the United States in the 20th century- so much so that he practiced the jazz concept of spontaneous composition for his own work, often scribbling poems on napkins and the margins of the day’s paper and leaving them there for others to discover. 

R.A.P Ferreira, formerly known as Milo and occasionally as scallops hotel, continues the tradition of Afro-Surrealism in his own music. Although he started in the nerdcore subgenre early on, Ferreira has reinvented himself artistically. Long gone are the references to niche internet communities, video games, and the feeling of being an outsider in hobbies that are predominantly white. Bob’s Son, like the man who inspired it, is instead full of knotted flows and rhymes packed with references to jazz, poetry, and the Black experience. The last song is the most direct nod to Bob one could do– it’s not a song at all, but rather a reading of one of Kaufman’s most famous poems of all time, the “Abomunist Manifesto,” a surreal, tongue-in-cheek series of declarations of a fictional belief system that mocks both capitalist and communist philosophy. 

If the admiration for Bob Kaufman doesn’t come through enough on the album, perhaps the whole reveal of the album back in 2021 will. To roll out the release, Ferreira created a virtual reality cafe (which, unfortunately, the web link has died) that is not far off from the old-school spots that Kaufman frequented in his day, shouting poetry from atop tables and scribbling spontaneous poems on whatever he had at hand. Bob’s Son plays softly in its entirety from the speakers of a boombox in the cafe. It’s a wonderful love letter not only to the man himself, but also to the affirmation in his poem “Dolorous Echo” that was true all along:

“When I die / I won’t stay / Dead.”

– Nick Sackett


Coheed and Cambria – Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV, Volume Two: No World for Tomorrow

Columbia Records

Sequels are difficult to pull off, regardless of what medium you’re talking about, but landing a great follow-up to a perfect album is absolutely a rarity in the music industry. Sequels always seem to be plagued by personnel shake-ups, unsuccessful risks, and downright bad luck, but fortunately Coheed and Cambria were still able to make something special with the sequel to their third album, No World For Tomorrow. “Sequel to the third album” sounds like a weird way to say their fourth album, but in the sci-fi opera world of Coheed, believe me, it makes sense. Despite the name consistently being shortened, No World For Tomorrow thematically and musically serves as the second volume of the band’s Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV series, making for a connected pair of records.

No World For Tomorrow follows much of Coheed’s typical formula – the foreboding and melancholic intro track, the genre-hopping singles, the epic ending suite – yet feels like such a special beast even amongst their first four iconic albums. Taylor Hawkins of Foo Fighters filled in on drums after the original (and now current) Coheed drummer, Josh Eppard, was booted from the band, making for a unique lineup. The band really leaned into their 80s rock influences in tracks like “The Hound (of Blood and Rank)” and “The End Complete V: On The Brink” as well. Conceptually, No World For Tomorrow depicts the literal end of the world and, given the personnel changes and the band’s overall approach to the songs, that ethereal, foreign atmosphere continues to earn its place in Coheed’s discography. 

– Ciara Rhiannon


Linkin Park – Meteora

Warner Records Inc.

Linkin Park’s Meteora is the most #BionicleCore album ever. What is #BionicleCore? It’s anything I was listening to during my peak “playing with Bionicles years,” duh. This also includes bands like P.O.D., Hoobastank, and Incubus. Now that I've given you a frame of reference for what ten-year-old me was up to when Meteora came out, let’s dig in. This was a big album for me. I’m pretty sure this is the first time in my life I was ever waiting on bated breath for a new band’s second album. I had no idea what a “sophomore slump” was, and evidently neither did Linkin Park, because Meteora fucking whips. I mean, c’mon, “Faint,” “Somewhere I Belong,” “Breaking The Habit,” and “Numb” are on this thing. Most bands would kill to have four songs like that in their entire career, let alone a single record. I don’t play with Bionicles anymore, which admittedly sucks, and I still love this album, but I’ll never be able to love it the way that little boy did.

RIP Chester

– Connor Fitzpatrick


Talking Kind – It Did Bring Me Down

Lauren Records

Look, I’m gonna have to level with ya: I’ve written about It Did Bring Me Down before. The first (and so far only) solo album from Pat Graham was my favorite record of 2023, but I’ll take any excuse to extol its virtues, even if just for its brownish-yellow truck-adorned album cover. This LP came out at an absolutely pivotal time in my life, and my love affair with it started simply enough. One listen through, and a song like “Damn Shame” immediately leaps out with a melody so timeless that I often find myself humming it absentmindedly. There are fast, fun tracks like “Brand New Face” and the goofy automotive love song “My Truck,” which butt up against absolute gut-wrenchers like “Trader” and “Small.” Just masterful sequencing, incredibly funny and earnest songwriting, and the whole thing ends with a song-length ode to folk musician Greg Mendez

I still listen to this album a few times a month; it’s guaranteed to put me in a good mood and take me back to that important point in my life when I made a massive leap for someone I love. To have that bottled up in 27 minutes of music is nothing short of a miracle, and if you give this album a chance, I hope you find even a fraction of the spark that it's given me. 

– Taylor Grimes


Honorable Mentions

Hey, we can’t write about every album with this color, so here’s a list of some more that we feel like we should mention.

  • Autopsy - Shitfun

  • Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Lift Yr. Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven

  • Nine Inch Nails - The Downward Spiral

  • Ethel Cain - Willoughby Tucker, I'll Always Love You

  • Primus - Brown Album

  • Shift - Spacesuit

  • Bruce Springsteen - Darkness On the Edge Of Town

  • Weedeater - God Luck And Good Speed

  • Downhaul - How to Begin

  • Pedro The Lion - Control

  • Soccer Mommy - Clean

  • Remember Sports - The Refrigerator

  • Joyce Manor - I Used To Go To This Bar

  • Wilco - Being There

  • Alex G - Trick

  • Sluice - Companion

  • Ween - 12 Golden Country Greats

  • Ethel Cain - Peacher’s Daughter

  • Van Morrison - Moondance

  • Oso Oso - The Yunahon Mixtape

  • Foo Fighters - Foo Fighters

  • Led Zeppelin - Zeppelin III 

  • Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young - Deja Vu


Collect some more Covers:

January Blues

February Reds

March Yellows

April Greens

May Purples

July Rainbows

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

Rip open that box of chocolates, pour out some red wine, and grab a handful of 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 world’s most amorous holiday, we asked the Swim Team what love songs are hitting them particularly hard right now. Much like last year’s edition, the result is a beautiful and wide-ranging mixtape from the Swim Team directly to you. 


Alien Boy – “Seventeen”

Get Better Records

Falling in love is stupid. It’s one of the most senseless things you can throw yourself into, but that’s how it has to be. Love is going to embarrass you, humble you, and terrify you; it's going to make you act crazy and hurt in ways you never thought possible… It’s also the best thing in the world. Before there can be love, there must be that weird liminal period where you’re not sure what’s going on within yourself or with this person. You’re not sure if this feeling is one-sided or just something you’re thinking too much about and building up in your head. Most people call this the “crush” stage, and it can be just as exhilarating as it is disastrous.

That feeling of a new relationship, of fresh, dumb, pure emotional adoration is captured perfectly in “Seventeen” by Alien Boy. It’s a song embodying the feeling of adolescent love, the type of love that takes over your body and abducts your mind. The bouncy guitar jangle acts as the heartbeat while the bass and drums add a propulsive, restless energy like a leg you can’t stop bouncing. Every waking moment, you’re consumed with this sense of possibility; all the imagined realities and possible futures. You need reckless abandon. You need to let it out, or you’re gonna implode. You’ve gotta love like you’ve never loved someone before. It’s all or nothing.

– Taylor Grimes


Brahm – “I will find you”

Self-Released

Screamo is not typically the place you look to for romantic love songs. Despondent longing, sure, plenty of examples there, but espousals of deep care and adulation not rooted in agony can be a bit hard to come by. Which is really a shame. A genre as complex and passionate as this owes itself to have at least a few tracks that explore love in its connective tenderness. This is why when Brahm released “I will find you,” I was very quickly moved to tears. Here, so much of what makes this music powerful was being channeled into a grand exultation of the relationship between the singer and his now-fiancée, concentrated into an incantational promise: “I will find you / In every lifetime / Just like we / Were always meant to.” Screamed, repeated, driven up into a crescendo: “I will find you” is one of the few screamo songs that feels truly pure in its love while claiming and owning all the sonic intensity one can expect from a legendary band like Brahm. Tender, subtle, gentle, then explosive. Though few in number, screamo love songs are immense and absolutely worth weeping over on our most saccharine of holidays.

– Elias Amini


The Meters – “Mardi Gras Mambo”

Warner Records

Every few years, like this year, Valentine’s Day coincides with the final round of Mardi Gras festivities. It always kind of irritated me when that happened. Mardi Gras is such an insular holiday with days upon days of nonstop partying and local antics, while Valentine’s Day’s appearance always felt like it was abruptly intruding—a pink and red reality check while I’m dealing with purple, green, and gold. I have softened on this position over time and have personally compromised by including Mardi Gras songs amongst my pantheon of the greatest love songs. When measuring how much love I feel towards my favorite Mardi Gras songs, I think I love The Meters’ cover of “Mardi Gras Mambo” the most. Quite frankly, the little funky keys part at the beginning is one of the most beautiful things put to wax and best enjoyed with a daiquiri in hand. It's an old song, somewhere around 70 years old, meaning that it’s been played for generations of New Orleanians like me. This means that everyone knows it, everyone sings it, and everyone does the same little dance to it while standing on the streets. Love is in everything, and love is everywhere, but love is especially in the Mardi Gras mambooooo down in New Orleans.

– Caro Alt


ManDancing – “I Really Like You (Carly Rae Jepsen cover)”

Something Merry

Sometimes people joke about Carly Rae Jepsen being the queen of emo, except I’m not joking. In 2015, she blessed the world with an instant-classic pop album, Emotion, absolutely overflowing with timeless desire, courageous sincerity, and selfless love. Three short years later, Something Merry and 15 talented artists orchestrated a cover album, with all proceeds donated to Immigration Equality.
EMO-TION redirects the original album’s skyscraper-high pop sensibilities into intimate articulations for any occasion. In their cover of “I Really Like You,” ManDancing takes the already perfectly unsure, desperate, brave lyrics and fills them with bated breath, yearning, and a passion literally begging to be met. The guest vocals from Em Noll in the chorus mirror lead singer Steve Kelly’s feelings, not knowing if falling so fast is a good idea, and not really caring. 

I met my partner at a rock concert, and after our second date, 72 hours later, I said to her, “I think we’re in trouble.” What began as innocently getting to know each other quickly spiraled into a long-distance relationship spanning the Atlantic Ocean. These days, our distance only spans Iowa, and even then, we’re lucky enough to see each other almost every month. This song reminds me of when we met, let go of everything, and fell for each other. 

ManDancing, king of this single; Carly Rae Jepsen, queen of emo music; Annie Watson, queen of my heart.

– Braden Allmond


Oso Oso – “skippy”

Self-released

This just in: love is just liking everything about a person?

I like how you’re a little messy when you’re in your comfortable spaces–like how you leave your socks by my bed, yet you’re so put-together everywhere else. I like how you know that I can be a bit of a fuck-up sometimes, but you see who I am on the inside and, even more so, who I’m trying to be on the outside. I like the songs you show me, even when I don’t like the genre. But I like them because you showed them to me. I like how every melody of every song I hear is a sunny-bright hook, like literally every line of music and lyrics in “skippy” by Oso Oso. With you in the world, every song is catchier, every bite tastes better.

Most of all, I like the way that it could only be you and that you knew it before I did. I might be late to our party, but I’m grateful and lucky to go with you on my arm.

– Joe Wasserman


Touché Amoré – “Come Heroine”

Epitaph Records

I’ve never been one for love songs. I often find them saccharine, bogged down by cliche emotion and sticky with reductive lyrics that I’m sure I’ve heard elsewhere. I’ve been in love with my husband for nearly a decade, and it’s nearly impossible to find a song that accurately captures the enduring and torrential force of that kind of love, yet Touché Amoré manages to do just that in “Come Heroine.” The song crashes forward like an avalanche, rushing headlong into a crashing ocean of honest declaration: “You brought me in / You took to me / And reversed the atrophy / Did so unknowingly / Now I’m undone.” I’ve repeated this raw confession countless times, the rhythm of my heart counting the syllables. Love has disarmed me, shown me my weaknesses, and simultaneously strengthened me. “When I swore I’d seen everything / I saw you.” And even after a decade, seeing my husband every morning feels like the first time I realized I was in love with him. Even when the day comes that I finally have seen everything, I know it will still pale in comparison to him. Maybe I am one for love songs after all. 

– Britta Joseph


The Smashing Pumpkins – “Stand Inside Your Love”

Virgin Records

What does it actually mean to actually stand inside someone’s love? The hell if I know, but what I do know is that in the Y2K era Billy Corgan still had his fastball when it came to writing pop songs. “Stand Inside Your Love” is a shining example of this. It’s catchy as all get out, the lyrics are simple and easy to remember, I mean, I don’t know what else to tell you, it’s just a groovy listening experience. Those classic Pumpkins' new wave guitar textures still hit like an anvil to the heart to this day. It’s one of those love songs that still has some oomph when listening. Do yourself a favor and play this for your partner for Valentine’s or cruising around town on date night. You can thank me later. If they love the song, tell them that David sent you. If not, lose my number.

For extra credit, if you’re into the vaudeville subgenre, this song’s music video will scratch every itch you could ever imagine. 

– David Williams


Kings of Leon – “Find Me”

RCA

My partner and I have been together for almost a decade, which means there are a lot of songs to choose from that have been cornerstones to our relationship. I’d been finding it difficult to choose the best one to write about this year, and I suppose it took the pressing deadline of this article’s publish date to bless me with the source. Kings of Leon have unabashedly been one of my favorite bands since I was in grade school, despite their more recent material falling a bit flat for me. But it’s actually a song from their 2016 album WALLS that comes up quite a lot in our musical lexicon with one another, a song that finds the Followill family doing their best Interpol impression, of all bands. “Find Me” is without a doubt the best piece of music the band has released in the last ten years, an upbeat rocker that doesn’t mute Caleb’s signature voice like their other latest singles do. The chorus, which is largely anchored by the question “How did you find me?”, is an effervescent feeling we share and echoes the gratitude we carry that we found each other at all. In the second verse, Caleb pleads, “Take me away, follow me into the wild with a twisted smile, I can’t escape. And now I got you by my side, all my life, day after day.”

The WALLS Tour was one of the first concerts we ever went to together, and the jolt we got when they played “Find Me” kept us going throughout the rest of the 2+ hour set. I am gushingly lucky to have found my one, even if the “how” of it all doesn’t have a definitive answer. Although, it may be hard sometimes to find each other at Costco.

– Logan Archer Mounts


Angel Olsen – “Spring”

Jagjaguwar

“Don’t take it for granted, love when you have it,” is a line that has felt like a mantra ever since my first listen to this track on Angel Olsen’s 2019 album, All Mirrors. Sometimes the songs most indicative of love are the ones that describe the spaces in between it, the moments longing for it, and the times when it’s found, even if its presence only exists in a brief moment. “Spring” is downtempo enough to soundtrack a slow dance, but as the keys and orchestral production swell, it’s easy to get lost inside of due to its musical syntax and structure. It’s the auditory equivalent to the head rush of a kiss; it overtakes you but brings you back down from it gently. Even as Olsen reflects on others who may have found “it,” her optimism reaches the song’s ultimate peak of vulnerability as she plainly asks for it: “So give me some heaven just for a while, make me eternal here in your smile.”

– Helen Howard


MUNA – “Kind Of Girl”

Saddest Factory Records

Valentine’s Day can be hard when you’re single. I spent most of my twenties in a committed relationship, and now I can’t remember the last Valentine’s Day I celebrated that lined up with me being in a romantic relationship. However, even if you’re not romantically entangled on February 14th this year or any year, what’s most important is your perspective. I’ve been in and out of relationships quite a bit since my last major relationship broke off, and when any of those relationships have fizzled out, I found myself clinging to negative self-talk as I often do. “Kind Of Girl,” off of MUNA’s self-titled record, is a song I cling to when I need a reminder that it’s more important than anything to treat myself with grace and accept my flaws as human. Despite their catalog being full of sad queer girl music, this track takes a softer approach to sitting with your emotions. I’m the kind of girl who feels her emotions so intensely, both when falling in and out of love, or even in the presence of the slightest crush. A connection can simply run its course, yet I have to tell myself all the ways I should’ve done things differently and that I’m better off avoiding further entanglements. I’m glad I have MUNA to remind me in those moments that I need to love myself harder. I need to be gentle with the kind of girl I am, maybe lean into one of my many hobbies, and keep my heart open to the next person who wants to connect with me – and this time, let them. 

– Ciara Rhiannon

Swim Into The Sound’s 15 Favorite Albums of 2024

This year frightened me. Too often, it felt like things could turn on a dime at any moment. I’m talking about that sudden, drop-in-your-stomach type of worsening that is both abrupt and disorienting. There were also moments where it felt like everything was gliding along effortlessly: complete bliss, total contentment, and unadulterated happiness, if only for a short bit. 2024 was a year of bouncing around, saying “yes,” and trying to follow my gut. Quite often, it led me to some beautiful moments. 

This year contained some of my greatest personal strides, painful lows, and profound revelations. I experienced strife in my career (both internal and external) for the first time in like a half-decade. Over the course of 2024, this job wound up contorting my heart and warping my brain in really painful ways. It was uniquely distressing, but I’m free now and on to better things, which is all that matters. On a more light-hearted note, I also kept a mustache all year, so that felt like a real marker in my life. This year, I saw Sufjan on Broadway and got to take in Niagra Falls with my own two eyes. I saw 36 immaculate concerts and listened to a ton of incredible music. Oh, I also made a documentary with my buddy about a sick-ass band. That was pretty rad. 

I don’t want to blather too much, but I do want to speak genuinely. I have felt more love and support this year than ever before in my life. Love from people who follow or write for this blog, love from friends and colleagues, love from people out on the street just passing by. I think it’s important to feel that love, recognize it, and spread it around as much as you can. I got fatter and happier and hairier and sillier and closer to who I want to be as a person. In those moments where I fell catastrophically short, I tried to take them as lessons of who not to be. I’ve felt an immense amount of appreciation, growth, and progress this year, and that’s only because I’ve allowed myself to open up and feel it. It’s really scary, but I swear it’s worth it. 

Anyway, let’s talk about music. 

This year, more than any other, the title of this article feels like a misnomer. In previous iterations, I’ve questioned what this publication’s “album of the year” truly means, but now that we have a sizeable team of writers, each with their own favorites, it’s evident that “Swim Into The Sound’s 15 Favorite Albums of 2024” is really just “Taylor’s 15 Favorite Albums of 2024.” In other words, this is a hyper-subjective list because it’s all from one point of view. 

As I sat down to list out my favorite albums of the year, there was a clear tendency to lean toward the genres that seem to be my “beat,” meaning emo, punk, shoegaze, and indie rock. I listened to a ton of music this year, but I won’t pretend I listened to everything. As such, this won’t be the most diverse AOTY list you’ve seen all season (it contains albums from Gleemer, Gulfer, and Glitterer), but it will be the most singular because it’s all from the mind of one weird guy typing this into his soon-to-be-revoked work laptop from his childhood bedroom. These are the albums that stuck with me all year and made a difference. In some cases, they’re weeks-old releases that have already connected to something deeper. Regardless of how long they’ve been in my life, these are pieces of art that I’ve found refuge and understanding in–collections of songs that make me feel seen and heard; it only makes sense to hold them up so others can hear them as well.  

To circle back to the beginning of this intro, it feels like we (collectively) have experienced several Events™ this year that have acted as drop-of-the-hat paradigm shifts. From presidential elections and assassination attempts to an avalanche of regressive policies, “natural” disasters, and forever wars that turn into forever genocides, there’s a lot to be upset about. With the rise in fascism, racism, and every type of phobia in the book, I think there’s been a lot of forced introspection, admission, and reconciliation over what’s happened in the last 360-some-odd days. I’m sure you had a few moments like that in your own life, and I’m sure that we’ll have many more in the coming year. To that end, at the onset of 2025, I’d love to be more explicit about where we stand: trans rights, free Palestine, healthcare + clean water for all, and defund the fucking police. 

I want Swim to be a safe space for writers, artists, fans, and people to discuss things they love. To that end, let’s get the fuck into it and talk about the music that has soundtracked my year. As always, I hope you find something here to love because, at the end of the day, that’s all we got. 


⭐️ | CarpoolMy Life In Subtitles

SideOneDummy Records

I want to start this off with an album that feels like it’s on a secret third plane of AOTY existence: My Life in Subtitles by Carpool. This is a loud-ass, real-ass rock album. I’m talking guitar solos, vocal acrobatics, infectious moshpit choruses, piano balladry, the whole package. This album has shaped my year more than any other after spending all of 2024 with it and spending three days on the road with the band in an attempt to capture their amazing live show. It resulted in a 17-minute documentary and accompanying two-part essay. It’s all very DIY and scrappy from my heart, and it was infinitely fulfilling to create. I want to do more stuff like it. 

If you want to know what record was truly indispensable for me this year, it was My Life in Subtitles. The rest of this is a numbered list, but Carpool had to start it off. In my Google Doc, it’s actually denoted with a “★” bullet point rather than a number, so if those 8k words linked above aren’t enough, I hope that star tells the rest of the story. 

Read our full review of My Life In Subtitles here.


15 | GleemerEnd of the Nail

Other People Records

Even though it’s only a couple of weeks old, the new record from Gleemer has utterly floored me. The band has been iterating on a particular strain of shoegaze for three albums, plus a couple of EPs and adjacent projects, but pivot to something with distinct character here. On End of the Nail, the Denver group sound nothing but authentic. As you would expect from a cover like this, these are dark and frustrated songs that openly grapple with feelings of dissatisfaction and pain. There are still moments of dreamy shoegaze distortion, but there’s also a grungy emo edge that pairs well with Nick Manske’s cool-guy deliveries. This record sounds like your brain throwing itself against the walls of your skull, thrashing around until it either reaches a conclusion or tires itself out. There are individual phrases and riffs that land like punches in a back alley fight, but it all coalesces into an immensely satisfying listen. 


14 | Glitterer Rationale

ANTI-

How much can a band realistically fit into 21 minutes? When it comes to Glitterer, it turns out quite a lot. Rationale takes the once-solo project of Ned Russin and transforms it into a collaborative full-band effort where all the pieces gel together in a swirl of bass, keys, and disaffected bellows. Just like his tenure in Title Fight, Russin utilizes his signature shout and melancholy strum to evoke a powerful reaction from his audience, but this time, his creations are honed into finely pointed tracks that often hover around the one-minute mark. From the reclusive abandon of “I Want To Be Invisible” to the synthy strut of “Plastic” and the utterly heartbroken “No One There,” it’s astounding how much catchy relatability Glitterer is able to fit into these one-minute slices. Occasionally, they might leave you wanting more or waiting for a resolution, but after a while, you realize that’s preferable to overstaying your welcome. 


13 | see through personevery way of living

Klepto Phase

For a good few years, see through person had exactly six songs to their name. Throughout chariot and sun, the trio fleshed out their own thrashy brand of emo punk built on jittery guitar slashing and Robin Mikan’s passionate wail. The songs were immediate, electrifying, and constantly circling around some deeper truth. On every way of living, that truth comes to bear with a record about self-discovery and trying to experience every way of living you possibly can.

While this process includes everything from moving across the country to experiencing fallout in your old friend groups, the most interesting moments on the record are the ones where Mikan writes openly about her exploration of gender identity and subsequent transition. We’re placed right there alongside her as family members use dead names and awkward small talk devolves into feeling out of place. This is all scored with jagged, ever-shifting instrumentals. Between Robin’s Fall of Troy-level heroics, you’ll hear Nikolas Kulpanowski’s bodyslamming bass and the bouncy dodgeball snare of Ethan Thomas. These are restless songs that exude an awkward, compelling, anxious energy. While see through person are tied to the emo music scene, their debut leans far more into mathy post-hardcore than anything else, an apt way to capture the frustration and elation that comes when you look inward and honestly ask yourself who you are. There’s a lot of feeling unheard, silencing yourself, and lonely reflection, but the band harnesses everything into these outpourings that are pure catharsis to hear. The inscription, written in emphatic all-caps, at the bottom of the album’s Bandcamp page summarizes things far better than I ever could, reading: “IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FULL OF JOY. EVERY WAY OF LIVING.” 


12 | Heart to GoldFree Help

Memory Music

With soaring vocals, glimmering guitars, and a beefy rhythm section, Free Help is a pitch-perfect punk rock album. Press play on any of these ten songs, and you’re guaranteed to hear something hard-hitting, fist-balling, and filled with forward momentum. Outside the sturdy instrumental work, there’s an impressive economy of writing at play here: choruses where seven words are stretched across two bars, and it all works beautifully. There’s frustration and anguish, commitment and confidence, powerful strides, and meager progress. This is music for when you’re surrounded, overwhelmed, and backed into a corner. Shout it out.

Read our full review of Free Help here.


11 | Ben QuadEphemera

Pure Noise Records

Sometimes, I question where else there is to go for Ben Quad. The Oklahoma group’s debut was my favorite emo album of 2022 in a way that seems hard to top, yet they’ve seemingly spent every moment since then on the fast track toward world domination. The band spent 2024 ripping sold-out gigs on multiple nationwide tours, all while covering peers and fourth-wave forefathers alike. By the fall, Ben Quad signed to Pure Noise Records and released Ephemera, venturing into the world of screamo with effortless mastery. It’s not like this post-hardcore pivot was too much of a surprise. It turns out 2022’s “You’re Part of It” wasn’t just a Piebald-referencing one-off; it was merely the first entry in a larger vent session that appears to have been a long time coming. With a list of influences that range from Underoath and Norma Jean to Youth Novel and William Bonney, there’s no question that these four know their shit, synthesizing two decades of metalcore and skramz into a cathartic five-song collection to help listeners air out every ounce of anger and frustration they feel towards the people that hold us down. There’s no more waiting for things to fall apart; it’s time for action, and Ben Quad is ready to soundtrack every motion. 


10 | Bedbugpack your bags the sun is growing

Disposable America

Anyone who has driven across the country can attest to how monotonous it can be. Hours upon hours of shooting straight down the highway with expanses on either side punctuated by gas stations and rest stops. While that’s often a repetitive experience, it can also be meditative and downright sublime. There are grandiose moments of beauty where the highway seems to stretch out to infinity and you feel connected to everything. That sense of wanderlust is precisely what the first full-band album from Bedbug aims to capture. Pivoting from their humble bedroom pop origins to something that more resembles Modest Mouse with midwest emo riffs, pack your bags the sun is growing is a sprawling release that looks off into the horizon, ever-searching for that glint of heaven. The crazy part is they actually manage to embody it on at least a few occasions.  

Read our full review of pack your bags the sun is growing here.


9 | This Is LoreleiBox for Buddy, Box for Star

Double Double Whammy

Box for Buddy, Box for Star twangs to life with “Angel’s Eye,” a saloon-ready duet between an alien and a cowboy who fall in love in which bandleader Nate Amos sings both parts. An ambitious concept, but merely the opening salvo for a project like This Is Lorelei. Throughout the rest of the record, there are alarm clock wake-up noises, autotuned Steely Dan namedrops, music box breakups, and earnest Elliott Smith homage, all amounting to one of the most inventive, fun, and free-wheeling records I’ve heard all year. Despite the impressively diverse range of instrumentation and ideas, these are pop songs designed to be immediately enjoyed and endlessly returned to. After a string of numbered EPs and one-off singles, Box for Buddy, Box for Star arrives fully formed with a spirit of boundless exploration. This one’s for the losers, for the reformed stoners and ex-burnouts who realize there’s still more life to live. It’s affirming in the way all great music should be.

Read our interview with Nate Amos here.


8 | Ben SeretanAllora

Tiny Engines

Just to establish the backstory: Allora was recorded in Italy back in 2019. Ben Seretan, flanked by Nico Hedley and Dan Knishkowy, ripped through the LP in three sweaty summer days, creating a piece that’s endlessly reaching out for the divine. The whole thing starts with “New Air,” an 8-minute expedition that opens with a guitar solo before a lyrical refrain that repeats and circulates until it takes on a meditative quality. It prattles forward like a song by Wilco or Yo La Tengo, settling into a groove and gradually building to something hypnotic and transcendental. Beyond that, there’s post-rock ramble, synthy spirals, dust-caked exaltations, and modern hymnwork. The whole thing is explosive and expansive, with one powerful movement after another. 

In the excellent album bio by Caleb Cordes of Sinai Vessel, he explains that there was a period of time when Allora was simply known as Ben Seretan’s “insane Italy record.” While that’s a funny way to pitch an album, the more apt articulation is found in its name: Allora being an expressive Venetian catchall that translates to “at that time.” While Cordes lays out what “that time” meant to the people creating this album, it’s impossible not to think about the infinite times that lay ahead: all of the people who will pick this record up and discover it in the coming years, all the times over the past months I’ve ventured into Allora and found something different within its walls. No matter when or where you come to this record, I can assure you that it’s ready to meet you in the present until ‘this time’ becomes ‘that time.’

Read our full review of Allora here.
Bonus points for having one of the sickest tie-dye shirts I’ve seen all year


7 | Merce LemonWatch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild

Darling records

After an eventful summer zipping from the West Coast to New York, Chicago, and Rochester, I spent a month at my parent’s house back in Oregon. Just about every day, I’d get off my aforementioned soul-contorting job, sit in the backyard, and stare at the sky while listening to Merce Lemon. Some days, I would read a book or indulge in a backyard beer; other times, I would just sit and listen and breathe. It became a centering ritual for me, guided by songs like “Backyard Lover” and “Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild,” which proved to be wellsprings of empathy and beauty at a time when I needed them most. As a full-length experience, Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild is naturalistic and gorgeous, penned during a period when Merce Lemon was living off the grid gardening, farming, and sleeping outside as she looked inward to ask herself what she really wanted. The resulting album approaches the world with a sort of folksy reverence that makes you appreciate every atom of your surroundings. There are lyrics of birds and blueberries and mountains that tickle the sky’s belly. It’s a big, beautiful world, fleshed out even further by a standalone single and split of Will Oldham covers, all of which collectively prove that wonder is an infinitely renewable resource and beauty is always there, hiding in plain sight, so long as you’re willing to look for it. 

Read our full review of Watch Me Drive Them Dogs Wild here.


6 | Oso Osolife till bones

Yunahon Entertainment LLC

The fifth full-length from Oso Oso is a compact and unfussy indie rock album about how life continues even after the unthinkable. It’s littered with truths from the very first line, “I love you, but life is a gun,” acknowledging the soaring highs and painful lows of day-to-day existence. Whether he’s relaying charming dirtbag anecdotes, meditating on the passage of time, or memorializing the loss of a loved one, Jade Lilitri manages to make everything sound buoyant, with an unshakable brightness shot through every beat. There are anti-love love songs going toe-to-toe with actual love songs, because you can’t have one without the other. After nine tracks of these naturally occurring rises and falls, album closer “other people’s stories” questions exactly what it is we’re all doing here: “other people's stories got me feeling bored / yea, other people's stories aren't like yours / look at all the people, looking at their phones / with how much time left? life till bones.” It’s a series of lines that directly address the uncomfortable truth lingering at the center of it all. Like every other Oso Oso track, Lilitri delivers it with a smirk and a riff before jettisoning off to whatever’s next, acknowledging the bad and holding onto the good while knowing that neither are permanent. 

Read our full review of life till bones here.


5 | Charli xcxBRAT

Atlantic

2024 was the year Charli xcx became inescapable. A fair bit of that is internet echo chamber, but as someone who’s followed the pop star since she was on the periphery of the charts a decade ago, it’s been surreal to watch her ascend the ranks of Spotify’s top 500 and fully establish herself as a household name. BRAT is more than just a collection of really good pop songs; it’s a genuine event-level album seeded by feverish singles, bolstered by hot girl music videos, and chased with a remix album that brought new definition to every track. There was a sold-out tour, countless magazine covers and interviews, plus a whole damn season shaped by the vernacular and attitude of Charli. There was a bottomless supply of hot looks, silly dances, and sleazy parties, each with their own dizzying ripples of discourse, but I suppose that’s how you know you’ve made it. This resulted in seven Grammy noms, a #1 album in the UK, and unparalleled cultural impact–one that feels increasingly remarkable in the ever-splitering landscape of 2024. The impressive part is that, despite how vast and multi-faceted its impact, BRAT still felt true to Charli. The record is catchy, dancy, exhilarating, cunty, fun, raw, tender, and honest. I guess that’s the true magic of pop stars: living an existence that’s larger than life which normal-ass people can still relate and aspire to, then make their own. 


4 | MJ Lenderman – Manning Fireworks 

ANTI-

At this point, I think even MJ Lenderman is sick of hearing about MJ Lenderman. I alone wrote like 3k words about his breakthrough Manning Fireworks, and this year was home to a bit of oversaturation for the Asheville rocker as he was subject to countless interviews, think pieces, magazine covers, profiles, and general writing. I’m reticent to add even another paragraph onto that tally with this blurb because sometimes it’s just not that deep. Lenderman makes hazy, funny, groovy indie rock that pulls inspiration from slacker greats of the 90s while simultaneously nodding to classic rock mainstays of the decades before that. MJ modernizes these influences and puts his own spin on things as he weaves tales of pathetic fuck-ups, dead-end wasters, and people who are too scared to try. It’s all delivered with a surprising amount of empathy and humor that makes these cautionary tales go down easier, plus a number of knockout riffs that make you want to hoot, holler, yelp, and wail. “She’s Leaving You”? Generational. “Joker Lips”? That’s a tasty lick. “Wristwatch”? I’ll never look at houseboats the same again. If I had one hot take to level at Manning Fireworks, it’s that the back half ventures into territory that doesn’t always land as hard for me, but even then, we have the masterful “Pianos” as a consolation. Despite all the hay that’s been made of Lenderman’s output this year, Manning Fireworks just plain rocks, and I’ve never had a bad time when I throw this record on. Lenderman is an artist who makes me hopeful for the future (both of music and in general) because I think his best work is still ahead of him.

Read our full review of Manning Fireworks here.


3 | Wild PinkDulling The Horns

Fire Talk

Dulling The Horns is a disorienting album about the impermanence and beauty of life. Its lyrics are a beautiful Rorschach Test of observations, phrases, and memories filtered through the eyes of bandleader John Ross. Recorded live in-studio, the album still retains the wide-set heartland rock lens found on previous Wild Pink releases, but cakes on layers of dirt and distortion that gives everything a much more compact, classic rock feel. The lyrics are abstract and difficult to parse, but that makes them all the more alluring as you attempt to peer into the album’s inner workings. 

Everything buzzes and crackles with an excitable energy that shakes off the darker expanses found throughout 2022’s ILYSM. Instead, Ross and co. opt to bask in the light that comes from a million miles away because, as he explains, “we get a little every day.” Whether they’re recounting sports esoterica or retelling the story of “Lefty” Ruggiero before throwing to a crunchy shoegaze riff, everything flows with a sort of dreamlike logic with its own internal reasoning. All the while, there are folksy truisms strewn throughout, helping ground things between incendiary guitar solos, pedal steel weeps, and disintegrating fuzz. Dulling The Horns feels like a car console CD destined to be sandwiched between Tom Petty and The War On Drugs as it sits primed for cross-country road trips and short jaunts all the same. As Ross poses questions like “How can there be / Really nothing in between / That big-ass moon and me?” he places the listener alongside him, prompting them to ask the same questions as they wait to get swept up in the next riff.

Read our full review of Dulling The Horns here.


2 | GulferThird Wind

Topshelf Records

Given their decade-plus discography of mathy punk, midwest mastery, and monumental splits, it’s tempting to call Gulfer an emo band, yet everything on their fourth LP points elsewhere. Aptly titled, Third Wind sees the band set off from a fresh crossroads as guitarist/vocalist Joseph Therriault takes on principal songwriting duty. There are still glimpses of the band’s previous stylings strewn throughout, but for the most part, these are poppy indie rock songs with Rube Goldberg-like math-rock guitar riffs. It’s proggy but simple, with choruses that still manage to stick in your head despite the ornate instrumentation. There are left-field decisions that make each song feel distinct, like the winding whammy bar riff on “Cherry Seed” or the pummeling breakdown of “Too Slow” that expends all of its energy halfway through the song. 

On tracks like “No Brainer,” the band hammers the same phrase over and over again as the instrumental rages around them, meanwhile, they take the exact opposite approach on songs like “Prove,” stretching the song’s title into an elongated “prooOOooOOooOOoo-ve” over some intricate guitar tapping that does my midwest emo heart good. There are love songs alongside reckonings of climate change and tales of exacting burnout-fueled revenge on an uncaring boss. It’s all assembled in a bleeding highlighter package of turquoise, yellow, green, and blue–an expired film strip that still manages to capture snapshots of absolute awe. 

A few months after the release of Third Wind, Gulfer announced they were calling it quits, but not before dropping LIGHTS OUT, a five-song collection that only serves to further emphasize how high of a level they were operating at. While they’ll be forever missed, there’s no denying thst Gulfer went out on a high note. Bands should be so lucky to have a last album as good as this.

Read our full review of Third Wind here.


1 | WaxahatcheeTigers Blood 

ANTI-

I’m not sure what Tigers Blood is about, but it’s stunning. The sixth record from Waxahatchee captures the beauty of life in sun-dappled snapshots like a shoebox full of old polaroids or a night spent reminiscing with a long-lost friend. This is all run through with an undercurrent of delight and despair that feels true to life, a reminder that, while these events have passed, we can still appreciate and honor them for what they were. The songs are lush and elaborate, framed by sturdy drums and bass, splotches of banjo and slide guitar, plus additional guitarwork and occasional background vocals courtesy of MJ Lenderman. Pretty as it all sounds, the album is about people whose fire burns out at midnight. It’s about people who are beaten down, broken up, and bored. It’s about modest ways of life and individuals who are perpetually “Right Back to It” in the most Sisyphean sense. 

Details come from allusions to the Bama heat and locks on doors that cost more than the beater parked out front. Much like 2020’s Saint Cloud, everything is still centered around Katie Crutchfield’s ironclad voice and poetic observations, but on this record, they take on a slightly more ragged alt-country tinge. Through the smoldering twang, a picture emerges of a humble, attainable lifestyle of living within your means, counting your blessings, and being thankful for what you have.

While the cover for Saint Cloud saw Crutchfield in a flowing blue dress perched atop a Ford with a truckbed full of roses, the cover for Tigers Blood sees her standing underneath a rusted-out neon sign. She’s wearing blue jeans and flannel over a red bikini top, plus a “KC” trucker hat that obscures her face as she stares down at the grass beneath her feet. The back cover of the vinyl focuses in on a snow cone, flush red with Tigers Blood dye–a simple pleasure in the final act of the good old days. A small consolation, but one we ought to indulge and find comfort in all the same.

Oso Oso – life till bones | Album Review

Yunahon Entertainment LLC

Oso Oso maestro Jade Liliti has spent the better part of a decade establishing himself as the purveyor of emo’s sunniest, most indelible hooks. The Hotelier’s Christian Holden–a longtime friend and tourmate–once compared him to Winnie the Pooh, so it’s a little jarring when his fifth record under the Oso Oso moniker begins with the bleak admission, “I love you but life is a gun.” That first song, “many ways,” is the kind of intro that Lilitri has never quite attempted before; it’s plaintive and embryonic, crackling with auxiliary piano and swells of feedback, segueing neatly into the jaunty “the country club.” A quick spoiler: the gun never goes off, but by the time lead single “all of my love” rolls around, it’s in possession of a woman named Annie, and she’s pointing it directly at him. I wouldn’t blame you if you were too busy grinning ear to ear at the Rembrandts-style handclaps to notice that the lyrics are actually about falling OUT of love; the ebullient chorus soothed Lilitri’s dog, too.

life till bones was never going to be a particularly cheery affair. Looming over the album’s ten tracks is the death of Tavish Maloney, Lilitri’s blood cousin, musical collaborator, and closest friend. He passed shortly after working with Lilitri on the tracking of sore thumb, which was subsequently released largely untouched, a monument to their lifelong friendship, frozen in amber. The songs on that record were freewheeling and often silly, soaked through with LSD and lined with weird experimental flourishes; brilliant but scattershot. With a few more years in the rearview, life till bones hones in on the aftermath.

The cavernous absence is most starkly addressed on the bloodletting “seesaw,” where Lilitri ruminates on the reality of losing a loved one. It’s a difficult listen, almost like a confessional we should not be privy to. The final refrain, wherein Lilitri cleverly splices the title in two, lays bare the aimlessness of moving forward: “The seesaw I saw balance in me / Now that balance is gone, I don’t know what I see.” A couple songs earlier, the more upbeat “stoke” takes a slightly more resolute path, striving to “try to find a way / to keep all that at bay.” Lilitri may be coughing up smoke but the flame is “stoked” and, given his predilection for stoner-patois, I’m inclined to read it as a double entendre; the fire isn’t merely alive, it’s excited. Our memories of the deceased can be painful but also inspiring, even invigorating; reminders of how to live as they lived and keep their best qualities alive with us.

So, where do we go from here? What do we do when forced to carry on after losing everything we hold dear? Lilitri would seem to argue that we pour love out into the universe, unyieldingly. To return to that radiant “all of my love” chorus, the relationship in that song dissolves because he “can’t give you all of [his] love,” the implication being that anything less than that would be a waste. In the Oso Oso vernacular, love has always been the ultimate force, the “one sick plan” to save Lilitri from his own demise. But life till bones is the most clearly he’s articulated the corollary: there is no half measure. Anything short of total, life-altering, starry-eyed devotion simply won’t do. On the shout-along “other people’s stories,” he mourns failed romance and refuses to settle until he can find something comparable: “I can’t fall in love if it’s not with you / Cause other people’s stories got me feeling bored.” When that true, transcendent love is attained, it’s almost a benevolent funhouse mirror that lets Lilitri see his best self in the eyes of another. Or, said another way on the buoyant “skippy,” “I like when I’m with you I make the good choice instead.”  

While life till bones might not be the most sonically ambitious Oso Oso album, it is certainly the most focused, almost iterative in its Frankenstein-style synthesis of Lilitri’s work to date. He nicks the snare-driven stomping groove from “dig” and speeds it up for “stoke”; he tactfully deploys sore thumb’s piano flourishes; he’s back singing of Annies and disasters around the bend; he upcycles an old demo into a beachy reverie. Often, when a songwriter’s repeated tics are visible enough to be articulated, it means they are spinning their wheels, but this is moreso the work of a master craftsman, a generational tunesmith confident enough to mine his own back catalog for inspiration. It certainly doesn’t hurt that this laser-focus is in service of some of the sharpest pop he’s ever penned, 29 straight minutes of minivan window-primed radio rock. Two of the songs were released in advance as singles, but for my money, there are easily five more that would have fit the bill.

The album takes its title from a line in the closer: “Look at all the people, looking at their phones / With how much time left? Life till bones.” It’s a pretty head-on confrontation of mortality, hidden at the end of a B-Side largely devoted to fawning love songs, and it’s indicative of what Lilitri does best. His phrases breeze by perfectly clipped, and the fleeting melancholy registers like an in-joke, a passing thought to be acknowledged but not dwelled on. Then—much like life, one might say–the album is over almost too soon. One day, we will all be reduced to bones. But it’s a funny thing about skeletons; when all the living flesh decays, they always look a bit like they’re smiling.


Jason Sloan is a guy from Brooklyn by way of Long Island. He posts mediocre jokes on Twitter and can be found occasionally rambling on his blog Tributary.

Summer BBQ Bangers Courtesy of Swim Into The Sound

The dog days of summer are officially here, which means for the next couple months, it’s time to make the most of the scorching temperatures and extensive sunlight; just don’t forget your sunscreen. The time is now to venture outdoors and embrace everything the summer has to offer, from outdoor festivals to walks around the park and ice cream excursions (save me a scoop of strawberry). 

Here at Swim HQ, we firmly believe the best part about summer is backyard barbecues with your friends and family. There’s something about that grill smell combined with the warm weather and people you love that brings the summer together better than the macaroni and cheese your favorite aunt cooks. There’s only one thing that separates an all-day rager from a total snooze fest. Can you guess what that is? No worries, I’ll just go ahead and tell you it’s all about the music

Music is the key component at any pool party, barbecue, or box social you have ever attended. The stakes get raised even higher during the summer because everything revolves around large gatherings of people outside trying to live their best lives in the heat. So, a perfectly curated playlist created by your own bare hands is the cherry on top of the sundae. 

There's no better feeling than seeing everyone bobbing their heads and strutting their stuff to songs you painstakingly sourced from your streaming services. Setting the party off with an immaculate playlist in America is the equivalent of being knighted in England. The only difference is that people across the pond get medals for their achievements. What laws must we pass to get trophies handed out to people who can turn a party out with their musical taste? Imagine showing up to a barbecue holding three trophies from your musical dalliances; talk about an icebreaker. 

I know what you're thinking: what makes for a good summer barbecue rock song? You can go a few different ways. The nostalgic approach is a surefire home run; go with a song everyone knows that brings back memories of yesteryear. Alternatively, uptempo pop-leaning rock is another genre that can't miss, music that is easy to digest while people are eating food that isn't so digestible. Lastly, if you want to show off your musical knowledge, sneak some underground bands into the playlist. What better feeling is there than seeing folks trying to Shazam the songs that you’re severing up off the queue? 

The only “BBQ don't” is to avoid any Nu Metal, and I say that from personal experience. Heed my warning: if you play even three Limp Bizkit songs, a gang of bros will magically appear like Beetlejuice, breaking glasses and stepping on furniture while wearing backward caps. Instant mood killer, trust me. 

Now that you know the rules of the game, it’s time to construct your playlist. Below, you will find some choice selects from our esteemed Swim Team. Feel free to use these songs as jumping-off points for your own backyard summer barbecue to set the vibes in the right direction and maybe even earn some bragging rights as a supreme music curator. 


Nickelback – “Photograph”

Roadrunner

I personally guarantee that more than 75% of BBQ attendees will pretend not to know the lyrics to this song, but I posit that Nickelback is the ultimate summertime guilty pleasure. Despite pushing 20, “Photograph” still sounds like just as much of a hit single as it did when it was first released. Plus, the song is the perfect conduit for classic BBQ conversations like ‘Remember when we went and did that thing at that place?’ and ‘Hey, what do you think Blank is up to these days?’ With the benefit of hindsight and time, these middle-school-joke songs have now become dad-rock classics. And even though it’s incredibly indulgent, the song is self-aware, reminding us that memories are meant to push us forward, not trap us in the past. Bonus points for giving a Canadian cultural export airtime at the USA’s birthday party.

Braden Allmond - @braden.allmond


Oso Oso – “all of my love”

Yunahon Entertainment

It’s important to have a song at your BBQ with some quick claps in it. Clap-clap-clap. There’s a good chance your get-together will be made up of people you’ve met at various stages of your life, some of whom don’t really know each other. Giving everyone a chance to clap together will do a lot to build comradery/save you the headache of an awkward party. Not everyone will know this song, but because it’s short and very good, you can probably get away with playing it like five or six times over the course of a few hours; once repetition three hits, people should get what’s going on, and from there, you’re all set. Everyone will be clapping together (clap-clap-clap), laughing, and sharing stories; it’ll just be a good time. Getting a bunch of people together can be stressful, let “all of my love” do some of the heavy lifting so you can focus on the grill.  

Josh Ejnes - @joshejnes


XTC – “Summer’s Cauldron”

Virgin Records

Almost 40 years later, I’m still not sure why you’d release an album like XTC’s Skylarking in October. Beyond the sounds of bees and heavy humidity that open “Summer’s Cauldron,” the British band’s Todd Rundgren-produced masterpiece is essential dog days music. It might evoke walking through a wooded clearing at sunrise after taking mushrooms more than grilling brats, but it welcomes a warm weather mindset no matter when or where you’re listening. You don’t have to be lying in an English countryside field to appreciate “Summer’s Cauldron” — in fact, it proves just as potent out on the porch, soaking up Minnesota’s eclectic summertime. XTC’s dappled psychedelic pop shouts for the sun to join in the party, even while Andy Partridge sings of drowning “under mats of flower lava.” This is also how I would want to go.

Aly Eleanor - @purityolympics


D’Angelo – “Spanish Joint”

Virgin Records

D'angelo's Voodoo is a hot, thick, sweaty, and bright delight for all five of your senses. The album is peak summer for me, largely due to my association of it with the Texas heat I was enduring when I first heard Voodoo, but also because of how perfectly the drums ooze along with D'Angelo's sighs and cries. “Spanish Joint” falls on the bright and hot side of my earlier sensory evaluation. The song bounces through plumes of charcoal smoke and screened doors with ease and is sure to have everyone within earshot head-bobbing along. “Spanish Joint” is the open-toe shoe that is sure to fit your summer backyard BBQ, and if it isn't, then please don't invite me.

Kirby Kluth - @kirbykluth


Switchfoot – “Meant to Live”

Sony BMG

The pineapple is fresh off the grill, the jackfruit shredded and coated in sauce, and spirits are high. Suddenly, you hear it: the riff. Despite the arena rock energy of “Meant to Live’s” opening, vocalist Jon Foreman finds space between the larger-than-life instrumentation to softly tell of someone who feels as though the world is passing him by before building into a raucous, infectious plea of a chorus as he longs for something greater than merely drifting through life. Going into the bridge, Switchfoot briefly pulls the song towards a softer dynamic space as Foreman pleads for “more than the wars of our fathers.”

I take this song as a reminder that there’s so much work to do if we want to ensure we’re not fighting our parents’ wars and passing them down to future generations. It’s a call to action in the face of multiple genocides, civil rights being rapidly stripped away in America, and an election that seems as though it’s destined to make both of these issues worse no matter the outcome. I also take it as an invitation to remember that within the community that’s built and reinforced through the summer BBQ, we have managed to find part of the “so much more” that Foreman cries out for. The riff comes back. You get a second sandwich. After all, “we were meant to live.”

Noëlle Midnight - @noellemidnight


AC/DC - “Shot Down in Flames”

Leidseplein Presse B.V.

When in doubt, the Godfathers of Summer Barbecue Rock will never steer you wrong. You want something familiar and catchy when at a barbecue or party, especially in the summer. Something that casual music fans can latch on to for dear life and will get everyone to start tapping their feet uncontrollably. AC/DC checks off more boxes than an election form. From the chunky riffs, up-tempo music, and absolutely filthy guitar solos, they will have your party cooking with gasoline. “Highway to Hell” is the obvious choice here, but it’s incredibly too expected; that song has been played a kajillion plus 1 times to death. Instead, go with a song from the same album, “Shot Down in Flames,” it’s just as energetic and rowdy also, you still get that same jolt of electricity as “Highway to Hell,” but it feels light a slight flex by picking a deeper cut.

The good thing about AC/DC is that they have generational music, and Bon Scott’s raspy/high-pitched vocals pack a knockout punch that will scratch every itch in any generation. So fear not, kids today would be crushing hard seltzers all day under the scorching sun to this song. Say you’re with an older crowd, though, it’s an instant light bulb moment for them to reminisce about listening to them for the first time or hearing about how AC/DC was their soundtrack for all the youthful shenanigans they got into. Were your Mee Maw and Pop Pop rebels back in the day? Who knows? Let’s find out by putting on “Shot Down in Flames” to see what happens.

David Williams - @davidmwill89


Chicago – “Saturday in the Park”

Columbia Records

Few records are worthy of making the cut for a summer BBQ playlist, but anything by Chicago is a non-negotiable add. Maybe my love for the band is driven by nostalgia or maybe it’s my unabashed love of wearing socks with my Birks. Either way, “Saturday in the Park” is a guaranteed success for the backyard bash you’re planning. Robert Lamm and Peter Cetera’s smooth harmonies, backed by chipper drums and warm brass, are impossibly catchy - before you know it, the whole party will be singing along: “Saturday in the park / I think it was the Fourth of July.” Hot dogs sizzle on the grill, the Miller Lites in the cooler are icy cold, and your new neighbors Tom and Barb just arrived with potato salad in tow. You’re wearing the “Kiss the Chef” apron that your brother-in-law gifted you for Christmas (you pretended to hate it, but secretly, you’ve been dying to bust that bad boy out). Like Robert said, it’s “a real celebration, waiting for us all.” Cheers!

Britta Joseph - @brittajoes


Petey – “I Tried to Draw a Straight Line”

Terrible

From his raspy voice to his NASCAR enthusiast aesthetic, Petey feels like he belongs at a barbecue with a Miller Lite in a koozie. You look at his vintage tees and beaten-up hats and can instantly smell the charcoal lingering. While all of his 2023 album, USA, is ideal for flipping hot dogs, “I Tried to Draw a Straight Line” is the quintessential grilling song. On the surface, it’s charming background music with a dancey beat to which people nod their heads without even noticing. The lyrics are a stream of consciousness you can easily hear being spoken over the sound of sizzling beef. “Yeah, I’ve been kind of angry since the Kings lost to the Lakers in the Western Conference Finals.” These seemingly banal thoughts are interrupted by moments of sheer panic. “Why you looking at me like that? Are you wishing that I was dead? Am I making you feel uncool? Is it something that I said?” Later, he spirals as he goes from talking about tricks he learned in his childhood to wondering whether he deserves to one day be a parent. This is a millennial barbeque at its finest: Nathan’s Ballpark Franks, Boca Burgers, and existential crises. If no one has volunteered yet, I’ll bring some tomato salad. 

Lindsay Fickas - @lindsayfickas


The Menzingers – “Bad Catholics”

Epitaph Records

It could be the religious background, the Irish heritage, growing up as a suburban white kid raised on rock and roll, or my penchant for consuming more alcohol than I should. Whatever the reason, The Menzingers are a band that have resonated with me deeply ever since my best friend showed me their song “Midwestern States” back in our early college days. Not only are they one of the best millennial American rock bands of our time, but there is something about their sound and identity that bleeds classic rock vibes, Americana, drinking too much, hanging out with your buds, and causing trouble. Given those qualifications, it would not be out-of-place to hear one of their more sunny, easy-going tracks blaring out of a waterproof speaker in a millennial dude’s backyard somewhere in Anytown, USA on a sweltering summer day. While just about any track off their 2017 record After the Party could fit the bill, “Bad Catholics” has been on my summer playlists since it first graced my ears. The straightforward riffs, steady pre-chorus, and sunny, danceable hooks create the best environment for cracking open a cold one in a beach chair that’s one light breeze away from breaking in half. Lyrics describing a church picnic and children running around with “orange soda mustaches” further elevate the spirit of the season in this banger that, once you hear it, is sure to make its way onto your own BBQ playlists this summer. 

Ciara Rhiannon - @rhiannon_comma


MJ Lenderman – “You Have Bought Yourself A Boat”

Dear Life Records

“It's plain to me to see / You have bought yourself a boat.” Never before in the history of music have the stakes of an artist’s entire vibe been captured so accurately and so succinctly with the opening line of a song. With a charming North Carolina drawl and plenty of breezy twang, MJ Lenderman has been a staple of my summertime playlists for a few years running now. In fact, my love affair with Lenderman’s particular style of southern slacker rock ignited on July 4th of 2022 as I kept Boat Songs on a constant rotation throughout my entire four-day weekend while hanging on the Oregon Coast with my family. I came out the other side half hungover, buzzed on burgers, and with a newfound zeal for all things MJ. In the time since then, my adoration for his personable, everyman aura has only grown, amplified with each subsequent single and live album. While you might have thought I’d go with a more grill-based MJ song, the bright, summertime breeze of “You Have Bought Yourself A Boat” feels like the ultimate summation of feel-good grillin’. I’ll see y’all at the cookout.

Taylor Grimes - @GeorgeTaylorG


Funkadelic – “Can You Get To That”

Westbound

When I started to brainstorm a perfect BBQ song for this prompt, my shortlist borrowed heavily from my dad’s music library (he’s the one who got me into The Hold Steady and Wilco and Steely Dan). But only one of those songs was one that my grill-enthusiast father once asked me to play at his funeral. That’s right, when my dad no longer has a life (or rather, when life no longer has him), he wants to go out to the bluesy psych rock grooves and shimmering harmonies of Funkadelic’s “Can You Get To That” (Bonus points if you also add Sleigh Bells’ “Rill Rill,” a track that brilliantly interpolates Fubkadelic’s timeless melody into  futuristic electropop Americana.) This backstory might seem morbid, but at this point, I’m used to having the kind of parents who have no qualms about dropping their funeral requests into casual conversation. We only have so much time on this earth, so why not use it to grill some burgers? While you’re at it, why not throw on all of Maggot Brain in its mind-bending entirety?

Grace Robins-Somerville - @grace_roso