Broken Record – Nothing Moves Me | Album Review

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Really Rad Records

“What do you do / When the void fills you? /
A steady flow of vacant thoughts / The sum of which is nil.”

The internal Swim Into The Sound upcoming release doc listed Broken Record’s Nothing Moves Me as “Sunny Day Real Estate + The Cure = Stadium emo.” Despite being an English teacher, this equation made immediate sense and piqued my curiosity.

I feel the need to express that this is not going to be a typical review. It’s not that this album’s music is not worth talking about in the stereotypical “awesome #toanz, dude” manner (the #toanz are indeed awesome, dude). As a music listener, however, I am drawn first toward how all of the instruments and vocals sound in concert with one another. Nothing Moves Me showcases lyrics that, funnily enough, move me and push me as both a music fan and critic.  

For some more context, I am a person who struggles with depression. Right around when I received the press stream of Nothing Moves Me, I was prescribed Lexapro. At first, it felt like a godsend. Spring and then summer wore on, and my partner confirmed something I had suspected: the prescription muted me and my world. Everything felt evenly mediocre. After a while, everything feeling mediocre starts to suck. I would rather experience the ups and downs.

It was during this period of medication that I played Nothing Moves Me over and over again. Regardless of my personal state, this is certifiably catchy emo. There are hooks on hooks and beautiful harmonies in every track, especially in singles “Weightless,” “Blueprinting,” and “See It Through.” These three songs buoy the record's first half with exciting second-wave emo sounds, the intro to “See It Through” almost sounds like it's referencing Taking Back Sunday’s “Cute Without the ‘E’ (Cut From the Team).”

Beyond hooks, the band excels with track sequencing. “Weightless” opens up into a spacey bridge that seamlessly meanders into “Round 2,” the epic six-plus-minute track. As a Jimmy-Eat-World-album-closer nerd, singer-guitarist Lauren Beecher, guitarist Matt Dunne, bassist Corey Fruin, and drummer Nick Danes are appealing directly to me. (Dear Broken Record: please explore this anthemic, slowcore-leaning sound more on your next release.)

What impresses me most, though, is the use of production and composition to enhance those hooks. Opener “Nothing Moves Me” begins with driving a dirty, driving bass line that trickles into a tight song with a contrasting, clean, right-panned arpeggiated guitar. The first song on the album showcases just how great a band Broken Record are; the following 32 minutes are a cherry on top.

“What about the lyrics, Joe?” is what you should be asking right now.

Now weaning myself off Lexapro, Nothing Moves Me hits differently. The reverb-rich and chorus-laden production makes the album sound underwater, which is how I feel when I am in the throes of a rough depressive period. Then there is the album’s cover, which features a skeleton sitting in the shade rather than the sun. Hell, the title is Nothing Moves Me. All this context pushed me to engage more deeply with the lyrics, and the epiphany was confirmed: this is an album about depression. The songs are not necessarily hiding this message; my world was just too grayed out to see it. The theme of depression permeates every track, but personal favorites include “Runner’s Digest” (“But I can’t fake / away the shame / I’m sick of empty hope / and consolation prizes”) and “Vacuum Tube Supplies” (the whole dang song).

Broken Record’s Nothing Moves Me is an important album not only for the upstart Colorado band but for all listeners, those contending with mental health issues or not. The sophomore effort solidifies Broken Record as incumbent torchbearers for both the genre, and for those wrestling with a void inside themselves, myself included. While it is one thing to create an incredible piece of art like Nothing Moves Me, it is another thing entirely to speak to and validate a population of people typically misunderstood for their behaviors and attitudes. Broken Record make doing both look easy.

Joe Wasserman lives with his partner and their dogs in Brooklyn. When he’s not listening to music, he plays bass in bands, writes stories, and releases music as After School Special. You can find him on Twitter at @a_cuppajoe.

Dim Wizard – X-Games Mode | Single Review

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Self-Released

I cannot tell you the last time it was that I picked up a skateboard and popped an ollie or landed a shuvit. Now that I’m 30 and it truly means nothing to me, my memory wanes as to whether I actually landed a kickflip like I bragged to some attractive women in college. Not to kill my ego, but I probably didn’t. That being said, I would’ve burned a hole in the flash memory of my iPod Nano listening to Dim Wizard’s “X-Games Mode” on repeat while slamming the deck into my shins.

The latest collaboration from Bad Moves’ David Combs and illuminati hotties’ Sarah Tudzin features garage power-popper Mike Krol and Ratboys’ Julia Steiner on vocals. Distorted and compressed to a chaotic hell, “X-Games Mode'' is just plain fun. Combs and Tudzin’s earworm songwriting and musicianship are complemented by Krol and Steiner’s cool deliveries to create a track that evokes nostalgia while also feeling new. Because of that, “X-Games Mode” immediately feels timeless in the best way.

Although my skating days are well behind me, the single’s catchy chiptune elements and swirling guitar riffs make for the perfect soundtrack to play Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater (or, for a true X-Games mode, Skate) with your friends. If we play at your house, I’ll bring the forties.

Joe Wasserman lives with his partner and their dogs in Brooklyn. When he’s not listening to music, he plays bass in bands, writes stories, and releases music as After School Special. You can find him on Twitter at @a_cuppajoe.

Hater's Delight – July 2023

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This July has been the longest, sweatiest, shittiest month of the year so far. Let’s hear it for unending heat, unbreathable air, and unforgivable takes from every fuckwit with a phone screen! The sooner this month’s over, the better; let’s send it out the door with a kick in the pants in the form of this month’s Hater’s Delight.

If you’re just now joining us for the first time, Hater’s Delight is a monthly micro-review column brought to you by our team of Swim Into The Sound writers and a guest or two. This is a space where we can vent about the things online and in music that have gotten under our skin this past month. Each writer gets a paragraph to bitch about their chosen topic, then once we expel the Haterade from our systems, we all go back to loving music and enjoying art. Speaking of which, if you’re more in the mood for some positivity, here’s a playlist of all this month’s new releases that I enjoyed (or at least found notable) to help you keep up on everything that’s happened in July.

Spotify UI

Oh, Spotify. I don’t like your artist payouts, and I don’t like your pivot to video. I don’t like your alt-right podcasts, and I don’t like your SEO slop. There’s a virtually endless list of things I dislike about the world’s most ubiquitous music streaming platform, yet I use it every day. Don’t get me wrong, I still have my physical media and a hefty MP3 library, so I am not beholden to Spotify, but I use it because it is synonymous. Because Spotify is some people’s sole way to interact with music, I think it’s worth analyzing, criticizing, and discussing. Earlier this year, I wrote about artists clogging Spotify up with single bloat, but now Spotify is inflicting this visual repetition on itself. On the desktop version of Spotify, the company recently introduced “Now Playing View,” which replaces the “Friend Activity” panel on the far-right side of the screen. Now the space is absorbed by a larger version of the album art, a song title, the artist name, bio, merch, tour dates, and what’s next in the queue. If that sounds like a lot, it’s because it is! Half of it is redundant information to what is already displayed on the bottom left, and the rest of it is pretty useless to the average listener. I presume this is a way to elevate ticket sales and promote merch, both of which Spotify gets a kickback on, but do we really need all of this info on screen? Especially when you’re paving over my literal friends and family, you better replace that with something just as compelling. While you can still click the “Friend Activity” button to return to the old view, the “Now Playing View” returns each time you click on a new song, so it might as well be there for good. This is all on top of recent changes to the sidebar, playlist organization, and various other changes, all of which make Spotify worse for the wear. 

Taylor Grimes – @GeorgeTaylorG


Apple Music v. Spotify: Dawn of Bullshit

 I’m self-aware enough to say that I am an Apple fanboy. It wasn’t on purpose; it just kind of happened, like how I got into the Mission: Impossible movies because my sister likes them, and I want to make her happy. This past week, I purchased an Apple Watch after years of thinking it wasn’t for me. I found enough reasons (i.e., easy access to a timer for teaching, the fitness tracker, and… a watch) to justify the cheapest finance option. Because I am in the minority and sip the Apple Juice (patent pending), I find it frustrating when anyone links music to Spotify as the default. Call me lazy, but I’m sick of searching on Apple Music for something that’s immediately available at Spotify users’ thumbs.

I understand why Spotify has a chokehold on streaming music. Sometimes I wish I subscribed just to experience its superior social aspects and playlisting. Yet, for all of the reasons that Taylor listed above, I still find the company’s actions and policies toward artists deplorable and solely a necessary evil in our current brand of capitalism. :sips Apple Juice: Whenever I share music online, I send a Bandcamp link to support the artist directly. If recipients do not wish to support, then at least the stream is immediately available to Spotify and Apple Music users alike. (Either way, I’m ridiculed for sending Bandcamp or Apple Music links because they’re not Spotify.) Although I’m happy at how Bandcamp has grown, it still does not feel like the default, agnostic streaming service that anyone can use immediately and remains a niche for independent labels and smaller musicians. Perhaps someday, it or another streaming service/online music storefront will be the norm, but that day feels far away. Regardless of which you use, M.A.R.T.H.A. remains: Music Algorithms Revile Trying to Help Artists. 

Joe Wasserman – @a_cuppajoe


“I am the one you love to hate.”

In a very meta paragraph here, I’m giving my hate to the haters. Code Orange has been pushing heavy music boundaries their entire career. Their left-of-center approach to hardcore and metal has been celebrated by freaks and questioned by cowards on every album. In 2017, they began incorporating more elements of alternative and industrial music on their album Forever, with songs like “Bleeding Into The Blur” and “Ugly” packed with soaring choruses fit for rock arenas. The most stubborn members of the hardcore community turned up their noses and turned their backs on the band, but they always seem to reappear whenever the band has new music to promote just to give their two cents. Online comments surrounding their latest single, “Take Shape,” are filled with sentiments like “This band fell off” and “Code Orange still sucks.” The first statement is confusing, considering their last album, Underneath, was the biggest of their career, released on March 13, 2020, and helped spawn the livestream music era. It also got them onto 2021 support tours for Korn and Slipknot, undeniably two of the country’s biggest metal acts. Redarding the second point, if Code Orange’s new music isn’t for you, that’s fine. There are a million homogenous California beatdown bands’ demos for you to choose from, only for you to forget about when the next ones come out after those, and so on and so on. But Code Orange is clearly doing something unique; they always have been (cue astronaut meme). It is palpable how much effort and energy they put into this music if you really listen to it. I mean, they got fucking Billy Corgan to sing the bridge on “Take Shape.” Not any bullshit band can do that; only a 1000% dedicated band gets that kind of co-sign. And Code Orange is absolutely deserving of it.

Logan Archer Mounts – @VERTICALCOFFIN


Three Chords and Some Bullshit

A lot of people on the internet are talking about Jason Aldean’s new song “Try That in a Small Town,” calling it racist, White Nationalist propaganda that stokes and cultivates an ever-widening division between rural American conservatives and… everyone else in the country. Honestly, I’m just astounded anyone can hear it at all, given that it is composed entirely of dog whistles. Now, I personally agree that this song is probably racist, but bad-faith actors note how there is nothing particularly racist about the song’s lyrical content, so I won’t try to tackle that. Here’s what I will say instead:

Jason Aldean lives in the city–my city. We both are transplants in Nashville, sporting cowboy hats and making country music (I write my own songs, though). But get this, I’m from a small town of 600 people, while he is from Macon, Georgia–population: 153,095. He’s not afraid of the city. He’s only ever lived in the city. He’s nothing but a right-wing grifter. Aldean knows his fans are bootlickers who are afraid of everything Fox News tells them to be afraid of. He’s a phony who would never want to actually live in the country. But he knows what he’s doing, and it’s given him a #1 country song. The song sucks though, and anyone with an ounce of integrity knows the song sucks. Three chords and some bullshit. I’ll say though–if this song keeps Aldean’s fearful fans at his bar on Broadway and away from all the other parts of Nashville, I reckon it’s doing some good.

Russ Finn – @russfinn


Message to Snail Mail

Snail Mail recently posted an Instagram Story claiming that we must “bring back hating on things”... Miss Mail, I couldn't agree more! For starters, I hate your attitude; I hate that you posted a pretty gracious Pitchfork profile of you years after it happened and called the writer a “huge cunt;” I hate how rude you were when you played Chicago on tour with JPEGmafia and Turnstile last October, snapping at your guitar tech, snapping at the sound guy, snapping at the audience saying “fuck all of this;” I hate that you posted yourself on Instagram posing with a handgun in rural Nevada–Lindsey, you went to private school in Baltimore! My culture is not your costume! But most of all, I think if you’re going to behave like a snotty little irresponsible rockstar, you should at least make music that is good enough to justify that behavior. Because I hate, hate, Snail Mail’s music, not just the most recent record, but all of it, from the goopy insubstantial beginnings to the limp and insipid present, and have no reason to revisit or reconsider unless you undergo rapid character development. Being kind isn’t a rockstar characteristic, but it is cool in its own way. Try it; you might like it. Godspeed!

Elizabeth – @OneFeIISwoop


What’s more important? Your own self-importance or the audience's? (Or "How I learned to hate Miranda Lambert")

I'm very happy to have the opportunity to "go off" this month, but when rattlin' my noggin for what I wanted to write about, I thought of everything I could possibly hate. However, for some reason, the same stupid bullshit continued coming up in every space in my life. People were talking about it at work. My server was talking about it at the restaurant. My mom even asked me about it. By "it," I'm begrudgingly referring to the moment country pop star Miranda Lambert stopped her show in Las Vegas because a group of women in her VIP section started taking a group photo—seemingly a completely unimportant and uninteresting moment in pop music. Unfortunately, parents and grandparents across the corn fields of Ohio (Where I happen to be) took this as a sign of her love for genuine human connection, or as I see it, her hatred of it. I don't have any strong feelings toward pop music in general, and I usually disregard any "news" involving such people. This time was different because of how inescapable it was. Everyone had an opinion. Some of which were kissing her (cowboy) boots. 

Aloe Weetman – @aloe_wise


We Will Not Be Rehabilitating Everyone’s Taste For Buckcherry

We’ve been going through an odd resurgence of late. The Will Yip-core edge of every modern punk adjacent band's new release has whet the appetite for 90s grunge/alt-rock sonics and aesthetics. This was inevitable, hell I’d even say understandable as the internet cycles through everything that has come before, as well as people and bands having been unabashed with their inspirations and even deep fondness for everything from Nu metal to Creed in recent years. Has it become a bit rote and tired? Sure. All this I can abide, even though I feel like I’ve been hearing the same album in slightly different fonts all year, but sometimes that's how the green screen background music video rolls. However, we can’t simply roll over and let this spirited go at revisionist history convince both newer music fans and older heads alike that they can feel good about enjoying Buckcherry. Buckcherry is awful. And not in the fun Nickelbacky it’s-kind-of-bad-but-it’s-actually-a-banger type of way. Buckcherry is just downright dog tripe. How far are we willing to fall here? Buckcherry’s primary claim to fame is their boring and repetitive single “Crazy Bitch.” This misogynistic and deeply questionable regaling of sexual coercion isn’t just dog water as a piece of art but also has a dodgy history featuring a minor in their sexually explicit behind-the-scenes short showing the making of the music video. How this band is still around isn’t baffling to me, but seeing the slow creep of rewritten love and acknowledgment of grunge and alt-rock bands like Staind and Creed, leads me to believe we’re only a viral trend away from Ed Hardy hats and Affliction jeans worming their way back into the public zeitgeist. I am begging everyone to just bedazzle their own headwear and denim, and please leave this withered, sunbleached garbage lost to the sepia-tinted wastelands of 2000s hard rock.

Elias Amini – @letsgetpivotal

Josaleigh Pollett – In The Garden, By The Weeds | Album Review

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Self-Released

Pop music is limitless. It’s how Phoebe Bridgers can open Taylor Swift concerts or how Slash can revamp a Demi Lovato song. Somewhere at the center of that limitless energy is where In The Garden, By The Weeds exists. Josaleigh Pollett’s third album is an emotional and experimental pop record that could be aligned anywhere from Hop Along to HAIM.

Right up top, Pollett delivers one of the year’s best album openers in the form of “YKWIM” (“you know what I mean”), a song that begins with glitchy acoustic guitars and a clear lead vocal. But it’s not straightforward for long, with Pollet’s voice on the track’s namesake lyric pitched down abruptly. Crisp Boygenius-style harmonies follow in the pre-chorus leading into an unexpected but badass guitar passage. It’s one of the most compositionally layered songs of the lot, and shows the listener everything Pollett is capable of throughout the album. “I want to cry in the arms of somebody who knows me,” they passionately refrain.

“Empty Things” showcases Pollett’s best Postal Service nod, with the Ben Gibbard-esque phrasing down pat over the minimal electronic backing track. It’s elevated even further by Bly Wallentine’s instrumental contributions, notably the woodwinds that come in after the first chorus. This is one of the very few featured players on the album, as In The Garden was put together almost entirely by Pollett and bandmate/producer Jordan Watko. The duo weave their way through nine tracks that sound like they could have been crafted by an entire indie rock orchestra. Despite how instrumentally dense each song is, the singular vision makes this feel like something only an extremely imaginative singer-songwriter could calculate.

Lead single “The Nothing Answered Back” seems to have many of elements of indie greats embedded in its DNA. I hear nods to Shearwater, Austin’s baroque-folk-rock outfit that took an electronic turn on 2016’s Jet Plane And Oxbow. The sparse, cryptic synth-string section in the chorus recalls “Dilaudid” by The Mountain Goats, a track similarly powerful due to its vocals-and-violins juxtaposition. Owen Pallett, former Mountain Goats and Arcade Fire collaborator, is also a master of the style throughout his solo catalog, and that definitely sounds like a reference point here. “The Nothing Answered Back” is not the most obvious or pop-centric track here, so it’s a bold first cut to release, but it puts forth the entire album's boldness without shying away, and it totally works.

Pollett knows their way around a true blue ballad, creating tracks that are both raw and tender throughout the entire LP. The mostly acoustic “Not Easy, Not Forever” is a prime example, with Pollett keeping their vocals reserved to ensure the lyrics are at the forefront. “I only feel present when I am alone. It’s starting to make me lonely. Can’t get enough sleep when it’s all I do. Why get out of bed in the morning?” they open, a sentiment I know is shared among many people.

The song also has the album’s second mention of a “garden” as a thematic centerpiece, following “cinderblocks.” That track was released last year without being tied to an album rollout, but wound up prophetically giving this record its name. “Everybody thinks they know a fix for what we’ve seen. Take this picture, ain’t she lovely? In the garden, by the weeds.” Gardens, much like the self, need consistent care and treatment, and everyone’s got a few weeds in them that don’t make the garden any less appealing. Between the fuzzed-out vocal harmonies and the swelling production, it’s one of my favorite tracks on the album. It’s easy to hear a parallel to some of the softer moments on Lucy Dacus’ last album Home Video, but I consider it a testament to Pollett’s craft that they’re able to exist in that same space without trying to usurp or replicate it.

Bly Wallentine returns on “Earthquake Song,” this time on pump organ, adding a unique flavor to the track. When Pollett and Watko need to bring an extra player in, it feels like a meticulous choice to lock in just the right addition. This song actually has the largest personnel on the entire album, being rounded out by guest vocalists Nicole Canaan and Aisling. With that in mind, it would be assumed to be the “biggest” sounding track here. That distinction still goes to “YKWIM,” but “Earthquake Song” is a close second.

The big songs and well-placed features don’t end there, but fully culminate with the album’s triumphant closer, “July.” Ryan Shreeve provides the only live drums on the album, and they’re well-placed to cap In The Garden off alongside the synth-heavy instrumental. We also get the final lamentations on the garden theme: “I’m pulling up weeds, and I planted a tree. But it feels like my heart shape has changed. And I know that things won’t be the same. I drink enough water, and I let myself cry. Do you think that’s all right? I hope that’s all right.” Pollett recognizes there are some things about the self that can’t be changed, and it certainly is all right.

In The Garden, By The Weeds is a poignant indie popera with no emotional holds barred. Josaleigh Pollett lets their thoughts and feelings bloom on every song here, whether in self-reflection or self-deprecation. It’s all presented as one of the most honest and individualistic singer-songwriter albums of the year so far, and what should hopefully be seen as a career milestone for Pollett in the coming years.

This review is dedicated to Rudo. 

Logan Archer Mounts once almost got kicked out of Warped Tour for doing the Disturbed scream during a band’s acoustic set. He currently lives in Rolling Meadows, IL, but tells everyone he lives in Palatine.

This Year Almost Killed Me: The Hold Steady & The Mountain Goats, Live In Chicago

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“It was song number three on John’s last CD:
‘I’m gonna make it through this year if it kills me.’
And it almost killed me.

And song number four on that first D4:
‘You want the scars, but you don’t want the war.’
Now that’s just hardcore.
These kids are clever to the core”

Craig Finn wrote those lyrics in Brooklyn in 2005, and used them as the bridge for a song called “Girls Like Status.” It ended up as only a b-side from the 2006 album Boys And Girls In America. It was also the very first song I heard by The Hold Steady.

The first stanza references the chorus of “This Year,” the 2005 folk-rock anthem by The Mountain Goats, interpolated with The Hold Steady’s 2004 debut album title Almost Killed Me. Now longtime residents of North Carolina, but previously from everywhere else in the country, The Mountain Goats are known for their verbose storytelling and emotional vocal deliveries from singer and songwriter John Darnielle. The same could also be said for The Hold Steady, whose albums often feature throughlines of recurring characters. It’s not a surprise at all that fans of one could be fans of the other and that the two men are fans of each other.

D4 is the abbreviation for Minneapolis punk rockers Dillinger Four, longtime friends and fans of The Hold Steady and vice versa. Craig Finn takes some liberties with the original lyrics from their song “Portrait Of The Artist As A Fucking Asshole.” The exact lines read, “Do you love telling your war stories while hiding your scars?” But it wouldn’t be a Hold Steady song without at least one turn of phrase. Finn never actually says “Girls like status” in the song, but rather “Guys go for looks, girls go for status.”

I first discovered The Hold Steady and The Mountain Goats in middle school, and they gradually earned their places in my top ten bands of all time. Two brilliant, unique groups led by charismatic frontmen who have carved out their own indie rock sound separate from any other artist. I consider albums like Boys In Girls In America or The Mountain Goats’ 2002 divorce rock opera Tallahassee among my most important and loved records. Naturally, when it was announced they would be playing a few shows together, I knew I had to be there. I’m extremely lucky that two of those shows just happened to be in Chicago, where I’ve lived in or around my entire life. If all of that wasn’t exciting enough, Dillinger Four was asked to be the opening act for both nights.

The shows took place at The Salt Shed, a brand new, $50 million venue in Chicago’s near north side. It is quite literally a fully converted and remodeled version of the historic Morton Salt Shed, whose operations shut down in 2015. They officially opened for business last summer, but only hosted shows on the outside grounds stage next to the building itself. They finished the interior for a February 2023 opening and have had quite the roster of shows since, including Bush, Iggy Pop, and The Roots. The concrete hall inside can hold 3,500 showgoers between the standing room floor and the seated balconies. Not only that, but the outside grounds have food vendors all night long, and the building itself has a consignment shop (Umbrella Vintage) and a guitar gear dealer (Fret 12) attached to it that are both open during performances. It was in this former mineral warehouse that all three bands’ dedicated fanbases gathered to celebrate the combined decades of highly-loved music.

Dillinger Four (Mounts)

“On that first night…”

Dillinger Four kicked off the weekend at 8 pm on Friday night; the quartet crammed into stage left away from the other bands’ setup to make the post-set changeover as speedy as possible. They made use of their time and space quite well, burning through about 12 songs in their half-hour slot. I’d seen them once before, and I’m certainly not an expert on the catalog, but they sounded excellent on each track, busting out fan favorites like “Maximum Piss & Vinegar” and “Mosh For Jesus.” It was a perfect set to have sworn in the festivities, providing the first burst of energy needed for the rest of the show. Even Craig Finn was visible from the VIP balcony singing along to most of the set, just like a young diehard fan would.

Around 9 pm entered The Mountain Goats, easing into their first performance with “Liza Forever Minnelli,” a song that John Darnielle has noted as one of his favorites to perform live. Seeing him utilize it as the first tone-setter was nice, but something seemed to be a bit off. Whether he was having trouble hearing the rest of the band or figuring out which key the song was in for his guitar parts, it wasn’t totally clear where the disconnect was. Not the end of the world for being the opening moments of the set if he just needed a few extra moments to settle into the groove.

The Mountain Goats (Mounts)

From there, we heard tracks like “Incandescent Ruins” and the seven-minute epic “Hostages,” both from last year’s excellent Bleed Out. One thing was becoming clear with each selection that passed; this was a very atypical Mountain Goats show. Darnielle led the band through mostly slower, methodical tracks the entire time, rarely raising his voice to heights that fans are used to on more energetic cuts. After the already lengthy “Hostages,” they threw in “An Antidote For Strychnine,” which regularly breaches six minutes in the live setting. Even the widely regarded “Dance Music,” which clocks in at just under two minutes on 2005’s The Sunset Tree, was rearranged to a swing number twice the length of the original.

There were still exciting moments where the band rocked through a few of my absolute favorites songs; the finale of 2017’s Goths album “Abandoned Flesh,” the Scarface-referencing “The Diaz Brothers,” and the espionage-western “Waylon Jennings Live!” Darnielle and the Goats began their typical jazzy live intro to their most notable cut, “No Children,” leading the Shed in the nihilistic chorus: “I hope you die, I hope we both die.” It appeared they would follow it with the equally iconic “This Year,” but they were harshly called off stage for going over their time limit after only playing for 55 minutes. An unfortunately abrupt ending to a Mountain Goats performance, already a bit weighed down by the less-than-thrilling setlist.

The Hold Steady (Mounts)

If there’s one band that can restore all energy and power to a room, it’s The Hold Steady. They kicked off their night one show with “Constructive Summer,” one of their most-finger-pointable anthems from 2008’s Stay Positive. Craig Finn is a master at writing lasting mantras in his songs, “Constructive Summer” containing a handful, like “We’re gonna build something this summer” and “Raise a glass to Saint Joe Strummer, I think he might have been our only decent teacher.” It’s also another one of Finn’s songs where he references Dillinger Four, and the crowd shouted the lyric with all their might. “Me and my friends are like ‘Doublewhiskeycokenoice,’” the name of D4’s number one composition and penultimate song choice of their set.

I had assumed these shows would be co-headliners, with The Mountain Goats and The Hold Steady each playing roughly the same set length. Instead, The Hold Steady doubled the Goats exactly in the form of 25 songs that could have very well been a greatest hits set. And I don’t say that as a dig, it was unbelievable how many of their best tracks they played in succession. “The Swish,” “Sequestered In Memphis,” and “Chips Ahoy!” all made an appearance, and that’s just to name a few. It was also exciting to hear songs from 2021’s Open Door Policy and their brand new album The Price Of Progress, since the band hadn’t played Chicago since 2019’s Thrashing Thru The Passion was released.

It was a nonstop rock block the entire set, particularly the jaw-dropping marathon run of “Your Little Hoodrat Friend,” “Massive Nights,” “How A Resurrection Really Feels,” the encore of “Hornets! Hornets!,” “Stay Positive,” “Chicago Seemed Tired Last Night,” and their constant finale of “Killer Parties.” Whatever may have been left desired from The Mountain Goats’ set was remedied multiple times over during The Hold Steady, but at the end of the night, I was just excited to do it all again the next day.

“Then there’s the other part…”

Saturday night began about the same as Friday, with Dillinger Four’s opening set covering most of the same territory as the first time around. Just as fun and energetic, but if they did switch up the set at all, I didn’t notice. But The Mountain Goats left nothing up to chance, rearranging their setup slightly from the night before with drummer Jon Wurster more in the forefront. Not just visually, but musically as well on this night, helping the band charge through a much more intense show. They picked back up where they left off, opening with “This Year” right out of the gate, and it made the room explode. I’d seen them open with “No Children” once as well, and it was so special hearing each at the very start as opposed to the end. With almost no break, they kicked into “See America Right,” the lo-fi blues rocker from Tallahassee and a song that always sounds huge live.

Craig Finn & John Darnielle (Mounts)

They reprised “Hostages” and “Cadaver Sniffing Dog” from the night before, but other than those and “No Children” later on, there were no repeats. It was a night and day tonal shift, this set filled with fist-pumping folk-punk-rockers like “Heretic Pride” and “Up The Wolves.” This set also marked the first collaborative performance of the weekend, with Craig Finn joining the Goats to sing “Palmcorder Yajna,” easily one of the bands’ best hits. Finn delivered his vocals with as much gusto as ever, a clear expert of the track. They closed on another Darnielle-professed favorite, “Spent Gladiator 2,” where he sang most of the track from the barricade pit directly to the crowd. I’m still not sure if the two vastly different performances were intentional or not. As a longtime devotee, and one who has now officially seen The Mountain Goats more than any other band (14 times, brother), it is cool that I got to see the contrast. Maybe it would have been better for casual or even new fans if they spliced each night between fast and loud and slow and quiet, but I’m certain John Darnielle always knows what he’s doing.

If “Constructive Summer” is the second-best Hold Steady set opener, I know the best is “Stuck Between Stations.” But I’m biased, as it opens Boys And Girls In America, my favorite Hold Steady album. Another solid first batch of songs from the Minneapolis-turned-Brooklyn boys, including “Barfruit Blues,” “You Can Make Him Like You,” and “Stevie Nix.” As I expected, they made a few swaps from the newer material on Friday, only repeating “Sideways Skull” from The Price Of Progress. A crop of deep tracks this time around, too, including Mountain Goats saxophonist Matt Douglas joining the stage for “Banging Camp” and “Hostile, Mass.” The one-two punch of “Southtown Girls” and “Slapped Actress” before the encore break was a really special moment as well.

The guys go for looks” (Mounts)

I had only one huge dream for this weekend, one that could have been too obvious and avoided, but it felt necessary. I had heard The Hold Steady perform “Girls Like Status” only once before, at the end of their full album anniversary performance of Boys And Girls In America in 2016. But here they are, once again playing the song in Chicago, and the stars of the bridge lyrics are in the building and on the bill. So Craig Finn delivered the goods, ramping up to the bridge in the middle of the song talking about the specialness of these shows and all of the bands’ music. And what better way to cap off the weekend than having John Darnielle and Dillinger Four vocalist/bassist Patrick Costello sing their lifted lyrics themselves? Darnielle took the mic first, making the very clever adjustment of singing “Song number three on The Sunset Tree.” Then Costello sang verbatim to Finn’s original paraphrase, although ironically, D4 didn’t play “Portrait Of An Artist” in either of their weekend sets. It was an absolutely momentous, once-in-a-lifetime collaboration that perfectly encapsulated the love Finn has for both bands and the love the fans have for the entire roster.

It still wouldn’t be a Hold Steady show without the “Killer Parties” finale, and whereas Friday night I left before most of the guitar feedback and drum fills, Saturday night I stayed until the amps were cut and the house lights went up. I needed to. This year almost killed me. I needed to feel every last second before it was all officially over before I went back home, and I woke up at 6 am again Monday morning, went back to the warehouse, and let the corporate week burn me down again. “Work at the mill until you die, work at the mill, and then you die,” Finn exclaims in “Constructive Summer.” The Hold Steady is secretly great, working-class bar band music behind the sharp storytelling.

It was a crucial experience for me to be at these shows with friends, family, and fans alike. There’s a reason they call The Hold Steady fanbase The Unified Scene. The Mountain Goats have The Pagan Crew, unified perhaps more by bleak upbringings than last calls at local watering holes. If the Dillinger Four fanbase has a name, Craig Finn must be the fan club president, and I’m in for life now. I won’t forget this weekend. “I’m pretty sure we partied.”

Logan Archer Mounts once almost got kicked out of Warped Tour for doing the Disturbed scream during a band’s acoustic set. He currently lives in Rolling Meadows, IL, but tells everyone he lives in Palatine.