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.

MooseCreek Park – Hope This Clears Things Up | Album Review

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Thumbs Up Records

Nothing makes me feel older than reflecting on the fact that the youth of today will likely never experience summers standing in the blistering heat at Warped Tour, inhaling clouds of dust while waiting to catch your favorite band rip a 15-minute set sandwiched between acts like Motionless in White and Reel Big Fish. For me, those months spent between semesters will forever be soundtracked by the fast-paced, angry pop-punk that took over the 2010s. That point in time is exactly where I’m taken to when listening to MooseCreek Park’s debut LP Hope This Clears Things Up.

Much like those Warped Tour acts of old, the Long Island-based emo band dons angst, resentment, nostalgic yearning, and self-loathing like nobody’s business. This release is a dream for those pop-punk kids turned emo as MooseCreek Park has mastered the composition of energetic yet introspective tracks. Most notably, this is showcased on "Pieces," one of the album’s three singles, and a song that had me enthralled on first listen. This track finds MooseCreek Park’s songwriting at its most polished—matching twinkly guitar riffs and a punchy chorus with relentlessly honest vocals that aren’t afraid to hit every beat of self-doubt.

These wildly catchy choruses are found on nearly every track throughout the release making for hardly any downtime. The following song, “Soggy Bacon,” continues this trend with a breakdown-like intro that transitions seamlessly into a wonderfully crafted verse. The lyrics on this track start to build out the album's themes, giving the listener an idea of where everything is heading. After the defeated lyrics found on “Pieces,” we’re hit with candid lines like, “Hiding that I’m jealous, that I’m angry, that I’m insecure. I’ll try for you.”

Before the instrumental break of “183 Days,” we’re given my personal favorite off the release, “What’s for Dinner,” which caps off the first half of the LP. It’s a more mellowed-out track, led steadily by a noodly guitar riff paired with drums that fuel the track just enough without spilling over. The song culminates in a breakdown towards the end, as vocalist/guitarist Vinny Cederna shouts, “Why can’t I stand your voice? Seasons change, but natures don’t.”

The back half of the album kicks off with “Ok Dylan,” another single whose fast-paced nature calls for finger-pointing and stage dives. The track even goes as far as to incorporate nautically themed gang vocals before dissolving into a slower-paced bridge. It’s then in “Drowning” where themes tie back to “Soggy Bacon” with the line, “You said you’re not willing to make changes for me.” For Cederna, the LP seems to be as much about self-reflection and processing emotions as it is a bridge-burning letter to those who've wronged him.

The second half of the album plays on similar beats, save for the significant shift in tone on track 10, “A Letter to Myself.” Trudged along by solemn chords, this song finds MooseCreek Park at their lowest, though the band knows better than to end their debut on a soft note; “Matchbox” caps off HTCTU with a twinkly-as-hell, nostalgia-filled track. The band uses the finality of this song to touch on the regretful tone that is sprinkled throughout the release, singing, “Holding onto last July, memories are all I’ve got.” And would it really be a modern emo release if there weren’t some form of screaming on the LP? MooseCreek Park covers all their bases with this closer, wrapping the album by pouring out all their remaining energy with shouted vocals over some insane tapping riffage.

After hearing the three singles that MCP put out in the lead-up to this album, I knew they were cooking up something special. They’ve managed to capture both the essence of angsty, finger-pointy pop-punk of the 2010s while maintaining the 5th wave emo noodles. Releasing the album via Thumbs Up Records, which proclaims itself as “Home of the Riff Mafia,” MCP is surrounded by good company. If there were an XXL Freshman Class of emo, MooseCreek Park would undoubtedly make the cut. 

Brandon Cortez is a writer/musician residing in El Paso, Texas, with his girlfriend and two cats. When not playing in shitty local emo bands, you can find him grinding Tears of the Kingdom on his second cup of cold brew. Find him on Twitter @numetalrev.

The Best of Q2 2023

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Even though we’re halfway through, 2023 has been a hard year to define. As news cycles speed up, discourse spins out, and “content” mounts faster than anyone can realistically engage with it, staying up-to-date on new music can feel overwhelming. That’s where we come in. 

Our team of passionate freaks writers are the types of people to comb through new releases every Friday in search of their next obsession. We have playlists and last.fm charts and Topsters and rankings. We have albums we love that we want you to love too, and that’s what this article is for. Just as we did back in April, we will round up our favorite albums and EPs of the last few months so you can see what we’ve been obsessing over lately. Hope you find something new to obsess over.

billy woods, Kenny Segal - Maps

Backwoodz Studioz

To describe billy woods’s quasi-concept album as “all over the place” might initially come off as an insult, but I mean it in the most complimentary and, on some levels, literal way possible. Part-travel diary, part-anthropological exploration, Maps just might be woods’s most accessible yet ambitious work to date. “No Reservations, walked in like Bourdain,” he boasts on “The Layover,” shouting out the late celebrity chef and documentarian and nodding to how both Bourdain and woods himself view travel as an immersive practice. In the same track, woods’ trip to California isn’t a vacation– it’s a chance to convene with the past, complete with lyrical dues paid to both LL Cool J and the Black Panther Party. “Babylon By Bus” rolls out personal and world history on one long, non-linear timeline, deftly hopping from the 2011 NBA Championship to the Russian Revolution to 9/11 to the passing of woods’ grandmother. “Year Zero” pulls back the spatial and temporal lens even further, chronicling the dawn of man to the decay of the present in just a few bars (“Apes stood and walked into the future / March of progress end hunchbacked in front the computer / Sooner or later it’s gon’ be two unrelated active shooters / Same place, same time, great minds”). While the vastness of woods’ pen game on Maps is pretty sublime, some of his most striking moments are when he gets down to the small-scale specificities, particularly on the record’s back half– “NYC Tapwater” is the bittersweet comedown from life on tour, the comforts of his home city are inextricable from the past traumas it bears witness to and constantly under the threat of being paved over by the continuous march of gentrification; on “As The Crow Flies,” the homecoming narrative concludes with a scene of woods and his son, a reckoning with the responsibilities of fatherhood and the tandem joys and fears that come with it (“I’m at the park with the baby on the swings / When it hits me crazy, anything at all could happen to him”). billy woods can fit a whole world into a record, and it’s a blessing that we get to watch it spin.

– Grace Robins-Somerville


Bully – Lucky For You

Sub Pop Records

Based solely on 2020’s SUGAREGG, I already knew I’d love whatever Bully did next. What I didn’t expect was a raucous half-hour of pitch-perfect 2000s alt-rock featuring some of the most energetic hooks I’ve heard all year. First, she reeled me in with a Soccer Mommy-assisted lead single, then she hit us with the sunny “Days Move Slow” and followed that with the fuckup anthem “Hard to Love.” One by one, each single surpassed the previous, all culminating in Lucky For You, an album that captures the boundless exuberance of the last day of school. Much like Momma, PONY, or Charly Bliss, Bully’s Alicia Bognanno doesn’t shy away from a realistic portrayal of herself. She’s kind of a loser, she has fucked up, and she owns all that. Turns out putting that kind of honesty to fuzzy power chords and raspy choruses makes them feel all the more triumphant. 

– Taylor Grimes


Clearbody – Bend Into a Blur

Self-Released

If you were to distill my love for shoegaze into just a handful of styles, you’d likely wind up with the collection of five songs that make up Bend Into a Blur. You’ve got clear love for giants of the genre like Hum and Nothing alongside screamy doom shit and high-energy bops, all of which work into the genre from different angles for a release that’s succinct and singular. Tracks like “This Can’t Leave Us” sink their hooks into you by building up to their title in the most anguishing but beautiful ways; meanwhile, “Cordelia” feels tailor-made for windows-down summer drives and late-nite smoke sessions alike. For a genre that can so easily feel stale and repetitious, Clearbody manage to make the “gaze” suffix feel exciting, diverse, and exploratory. 

– Taylor Grimes

Read our review of “Cordelia” here.


Cory Hanson – Western Cum

Drag City Inc.

Let’s get it out of the way up top: Western Cum is a very funny name. The title for Cory Hanson’s third album is a signal flare that he doesn’t take this too seriously, but the music tells a different story. Hanson’s latest record follows a similar format to 2021’s Pale Horse Rider (one of our favorites of that year), featuring a batch of a half-dozen barn burners and one 10-minute psychedelic expedition placed at the penultimate spot on the tracklist. Western Cum also sees Hanson cranking up the Zeppelin worship tenfold for classic rock songs that range in scale from that of a housefly to a haunted ghost ship. As these desert mirages materialize and pass by the listener, it’s hard not to get swept up in the majesty of it all.

– Taylor Grimes


Easy Beach – Easy Beach

We’re Trying Records & Sleepy Clown Records

To some degree, people are right to groan about emo music. You’re right to roll your eyes at silly song titles, formulaic tapping, and uninspired singing, but at the same time, you gotta hand it to ‘em when people in this genre do something right, and Easy Beach’s self-titled record is emo done right. For an album that dropped on 4/20 and has song titles like “Elliott Spliff” and “Everbong,” it might seem easy to assume Easy Beach is “weedmo,” but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Easy Beach may be an emo band, and they may even smoke weed, but their music is actually closer to groups like Ovlov, LVL UP, or Truth Club than Mom Jeans and Prince Daddy. In just 23 minutes, this band constructs a thrashy style of punk rock that pummels you like a brick to the face… if being pummelled by a brick to the face was somehow catchy. There’s still a little bit of emo guitar tapping, but overall, this band seems much more concerned with making shreddy punk music fit for diving headfirst into the pit. Easy Beach is jam-packed with rambunctious energy and shout-along bangers with a well-placed interlude or two to help you catch your breath. If sweat isn’t dripping from your pores by the time the rapturous horns of “Sleep” roll around, then you’re listening wrong. 

– Taylor Grimes


EXIT ELECTRONICS – BELIEVE ANYTHING, BELIEVE EVERYTHING

Avalanche

Okay, so teeeeechnically, this album was released about a week before our Q1 list went up. But I didn’t hear it until the beginning of June, so I’m including it here. I wanted to give a full-length review on the new Godflesh album PURGE (which rips), but the time didn’t work in my favor. Instead, I’m here to shout out the new EXIT ELECTRONICS album, one of the many monikers and side projects of Godflesh mastermind Justin K. Broadrick. BELIEVE ANYTHING is 45 minutes of obnoxious, distorted, bass-heavy music that is so in my lane, it’s surprising I didn’t hear it until after I recorded my last album of similar material. Broadrick has been an electronic and industrial maestro since the late ‘80s between Godflesh, Techno Animal, and Jesu, just to name a few. This is easily some of the most advanced and intense music he’s ever done; it’s like a burned CD of 128kbps Limewire MP3s skipping in the player of a 2003 Pontiac Sunfire. I assure you that’s a compliment.

— Logan Archer Mounts


Feeble Little Horse – Girl with Fish

Saddle Creek

The first time I listened to Girl with Fish was idyllic… not necessarily befitting to the music, but memorable nonetheless. It had been a bright summer day here in Portland, but by the evening, a batch of clouds had rolled in, making for a broody, overcast mood that marked the end to a weeks-long period of perfectly sunny weather. It was about 8:30 and still bright out despite the grey clouds now populating the sky. I decided to go for a walk to expend the rest of my energy and enjoy the last little bit of light we had left. By the time I had reached a nearby park, the clouds had started to spit ever so lightly, raining just enough to feel a cooling droplet every few seconds but not enough to need a jacket or an umbrella. I looked at my phone and realized it was just past 9 pm, meaning all the Friday new releases were now available to listen to here on the west coast. I navigated straight to Feeble Little Horse’s artist page and pressed play on their sophomore LP, which I had been anticipating for the better part of the year. As I walked around this park and nearby neighborhoods soundtracked by the off-kilter rock tunes, I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of rain on hot pavement, a sense I hadn’t experienced much in my previous home of Denver. As the freaky, horny, warbly songs played out, I found myself firmly in the present. I didn’t know what was coming next in this album or my life, and for 26 minutes and 6 seconds, I found that incredibly freeing.

– Taylor Grimes


Frog Legs – It’s Been a Hard Year

Rabbit Snail Records

I’ve been listening to punk rock for a really, really, really long time. So long, in fact, that I have kind of a complex relationship to it– although punk is great, I often can’t find myself reaching for my Misfits records when it comes time to kick back with a beer and decompress. It’s just too… one-note these days. The novelty of sonic rebellion has long worn off, and only the truly time-tested punk music can make it through to my daily rotation of knotty emo-core, crusty d-beat and hardcore, stripped-back folk music, densely arranged power pop, and soaring jam-band indebted indie rock. All that changed two years ago when I was introduced to Frog Legs, a band of folk-punk rookies with bright eyes and big attitudes led by singer/bassist/songwriter Nano Siegert-Wilkinson. 

Their first EP was straight-up folk punk in the best way– sugary sweet punk rippers played with acoustic instruments at blistering tempos. On It’s Been a Hard Year, though, her ambitions spread beyond the realm of traditional folk-punk and bloom into enormous Springsteen singalong C-sections (“Motorcycle!”), lackadaisical power pop jams (“The Worst McDonalds Ever (Pts. 1 & 2)”), propulsive and neurotic rock (“Fear and Loathing in South Oakland”), and even tender bluegrass ballads (“Livestock” and “Moth Song”). Despite these musical departures from the raspy acoustic punk we’ve all come to know and meme, it’s impossible to forget that this is a Folk Punk Album. Every song oozes directionless rage and exhaustion via grisly and misanthropic metaphor (“It will bleed me til I'm dry / make a leather coach bag out of my hide”) or an unflinching, almost impolite directness (“Sometimes bad things happen just because”). It’s an emotionally arresting piece of art that will define the genre for years and might even succeed at Siegert-Wilkinson’s oft-stated goal of “bringing folk punk back to Pittsburgh, baby.” 

– Mikey Montoni


Frozen Soul – Glacial Domination

Century Media

Remember that one time Texas got too cold? Fort Worth’s iciest band, Frozen Soul, makes sure you’ll never forget. Glacial Domination is an avalanche-caliber crushing death metal LP that stays frozen on repeat. With features from Dying Fetus’ John Gallagher, Trivium’s Matt Heafy, and electro-metal duo GosT, the band delivers one anthemic, bicep-flexing, frost-biting track after another. This group may as well have called themselves something like Cold Thrower or Snowbituary.

— Logan Archer Mounts


Greg Mendez – Greg Mendez

For about a month, I listened to Greg Mendez’s self-titled record and couldn’t shake the phrase “Diet Alex G.” That’s a misnomer for a couple of reasons, sure Mendez’s voice sounds shockingly similar at times, but “diet” implies that it’s somehow lesser. In reality, Greg Mendez is a precious and careful folk album that weaves together nine deeply intricate tales into a compact 23-minute package. Standing shoulder to shoulder with the new albums from Ther and Infinity Crush, Mendez has created an honest and truly beautiful album that has rightfully placed him at the forefront of an already bustling Philadelphia music scene. With songs as brilliant as “Maria” in his holster, it’s only a matter of time before he ascends the rungs of the indie rock world into a strata all his own.

– Taylor Grimes


HMLTD – The Worm

Lucky Number

England hits another post-punk home run with the latest album from HMLTD (fka Happy Meal Ltd., ceased and desisted for obvious reasons). The Worm is an experimental, imperialistic, sci-fi concept record that begs one question: “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” At least, in this case, the worm is taking over an apocalyptic London like the plague, and the album tells the story of the townspeople’s experiences. It’s a danceable, oddball record that showcases the band at their strongest. Fans of Black Country New Road, King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizard, or Squid should be sure to take note of this one. And not just because lizards and squids are in the worm family (follow-up: I do not know this to be true).

— Logan Archer Mounts


Home Is Where – the whaler

There are a ton of dumb, memey ways one could talk about the whaler. From the 9/11 song to the Neutral Milk Hotel worship and possible Weezer homage, this record sometimes feels tailor-made to set up RYM weirdos to craft their most pithy one-liners, and yet… the whaler persists. The sophomore album from fifth-wave emo’s resident folk punk freaks is wildly inventive, sprawling, and probing in a way that makes it impossible to summarize in a single paragraph. Essentially a loose concept album about “getting used to things getting worse,” each song flows into the next while still retaining a circular life of its own. Each song is staggeringly diverse in instrumentation and inspiration, seamlessly incorporating sounds from midwest emo and folk to alt-country and post-hardcore. The lyrics are both urgent and poetic, begging the listener not just to scream along, but to really listen and understand. Even as things get worse, we can thank Home Is Where for being here and creating art that makes things just a little better. 

– Taylor Grimes


Hot Mulligan – Why Would I Watch

Wax Bodega

Yes, Hot Mulligan are yelpy, yes, they’re emo as fuck, and yes, they have songs with names like “Cock Party 2 (Better Than The First).” It’s almost like they’re challenging you not to take them seriously. Despite the seemingly infinite number of marks against them, the Michigan-based Post-Emo band makes music that exceeds any surface-level turn-offs. Following an excellent 2020 release that deflated like so many of the albums from that year, they kept the momentum (and spirits) up with a series of acoustic releases, EPs, covers, and one-off singles, but Why Would I Watch is the first proper full-length from the band in three years, and it’s a front-to-back ripper. I’ll save you any more song titles, but the band’s fourth LP is song after song of frantic outpourings, complete with intricate guitar work, group singalongs, and relatable lamentations. 

– Taylor Grimes


Indigo De Souza – All of This Will End

Saddle Creek

Indigo De Souza is a force of nature. The Asheville-based singer-songwriter is a confluence of immensely relatable sentiments, catchy choruses, and feelings that sweep through each song like a hurricane. Whether she’s reinforcing the importance of nature, venting about a shitty partner, or reflecting on the knowledge that comes with age, Indigo De Souza manages to make it all fit seamlessly within her vibrant, technicolor umbrella. There are crunchy shoegaze riffs, boppy dance numbers, and touches of twang that make each song feel distinct from the others surrounding it. One of those albums where any track feels like it could have served as a single, and I’m left to marvel at how many great ideas can be packed into one LP. 

– Taylor Grimes

Read our review of All of This Will End here. 


Innerlove. – Roscoe

Refresh Records

While everyone else was listening to, thinking about, commentating on, and participating in the “Pinegrove Shuffle,” I was listening to Roscoe. Much like Quinn Cicala and Ground Swell, Innerlove is a band directly descended from the Emo Kid to Alt-Country Pipeline. Underneath the twang and scent of alcohol, There’s an apparent reverence for the lineage of country music built atop a sturdy understanding of indie rock fundamentals. Every once in a while, a little bit of emo sensibility peeks through, and in that way, it’s a beautiful intersection of where I find my tastes midway through 2023.  

– Taylor Grimes


Jess Williamson – Time Ain’t Accidental

Mexican Summer

If you’ve ever been to Far West Texas, you’ll get why Time Ain’t Accidental is Marfa-coded: steel guitar and highway motifs scream “Wild West,” while Williamson’s coy voice and eclectic percussion choices keep these songs distinctly artsy. However, unlike many Angelenos who descend upon the quintessential artsy Wild West town, Williamson is originally from Texas, and she successfully cashes in on that authenticity in her most country-tinged offering to date. In Time Ain’t Accidental, she documents her extensive time living and loving in Marfa, telling the concurrent stories of an old love (like in “Stampede”) and a new one (like in the title track). Alongside thrilling tales of a poolside rendezvous and driving through a desert storm, she lays lyrical flowers on the grave of a former longtime love. It’s quite the feat, paying tribute to both relationships without one discrediting the other, but Williamson accomplishes it with grace. She reckons with the ruthless fallout of modern dating without ever losing her grip on love’s timeless potential, wide as the Texas sky. Out in Marfa, everything—the brutal and the beautiful—comes to light if you linger long enough.

– Katie Wojciechowski


Kara Jackson – Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love?

September

Kara Jackson may or may not be the singer-songwriter that the world asked for in the year of our Lord 2023, but there’s no doubt she’s the one we need. Her earthy contralto voice weaves a spell over meandering chords until all of a sudden, the whole thing is basically jazz, and you’d hardly noticed—like the album’s second track, “no fun/party.” While I’d never say her music “sounds like” Joni Mitchell, Mitchell is the only fair, clear comparison I can think to make in terms of a jazz influence on what are essentially folk songs. Why Does The Earth… doesn’t waste a note, from the spare, unnerving “curtains” to the orchestral, heartbreaking title track that wrestles with the impossible question of loss. Some of Jackson’s songs, like “dickhead blues,” move a little slow, but stay with them; every track on this album offers unexpected gems in the form of vocal feats, twisting melodies, and razor-sharp wit. I honestly cannot believe this is her debut album!

– Katie Wojciechowski


Kerosene Heights – ​​Southeast of Somewhere

No Sleep Records

On paper, there’s nothing extravagant about the debut album from Kerosene Heights; there’s no deep theme, intricate concept, or overarching message. Instead, what you get is a collection of 11 rippers that gnash, gnarl, and shred through waves of emo insecurities with a propulsive pop-punk energy. The record starts off with a half-speed crabcore bob, but ignites when lead singer Chance Smith barks, “1, 2, 3, GO!” in a moment that’s sure to summon a pit at every Kerosene Heights show until the end of time. Over the course of the record’s 35-minute runtime, we come to learn that Smith is their own worst enemy as they recount previous instances where they jumped too fast into romance, ruined someone’s birthday, or generally acted like a selfish dick. As the lyrics so eloquently put it on the second song, “I am the worst thing to happen to me.” While that all might sound like a bummer, what’s remarkable is how catchy Kerosene Heights manages to make these confessionals sound. The band’s peppy instrumentals keep the energy level from ever dipping below that of a sugar-free Red Bull. A fast, fun, and boisterous release that I keep coming back to like a bowl of candy.

– Taylor Grimes


Lana Del Rey - Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd?

Interscope

Lana Del Rey seemingly has no interest in normalcy, subtlety, or doing anything in a way that isn’t larger-than-life. Because of that, artists like her are a dying breed (as she puts it herself on “Sweet”: “I’m a different kind of woman / if you want some basic bitch, go to the Beverly Center and find her”). The sprawl, the filler tracks, the seemingly out-of-place lyrics that already feel dated by the time the record comes out– these are all things that you come to expect with each Lana album release cycle (and that’s not even mentioning the decade-plus fixation on her controversial career arc that has a nasty habit of overshadowing coverage of her actual music). Sometimes she’ll swing and miss, but the swings are always big. On Ocean Blvd., she’s knocked it out of the park. It’s her best work since 2019’s Normal Fucking Rockwell!, perhaps her best work, period. “A&W” alone feels like a monumental feat, an artist staring herself down and confronting her persona and the woman behind it– Where do tragic rock stars go when (thankfully) the 27 Club won’t have them? What happens to the Lolitas who get to live past thirty? Musically, “A&W” feels like the lovechild of “Hard Feelings/Loveless” by Lorde, “Nights” by Frank Ocean, and “Poor Places” by Wilco. Over its six-minute runtime, the slow-building piano ballad that time-lapses through the Three Faces of Eve culminates in a beat switch that transforms the track into a trap banger with a bratty, double-dutch hook and a mic drop-worthy kiss-off: “Your mom called, I told her you’re fucking up big time.” Grand, communal singalongs like “The Grants,” “Let The Light In,” and “Margaret” invite those nearest and dearest to Lana to sing about love in all its forms– romantic, platonic, familial –while whispery, introspective cuts like “Candy Necklace,” “Kintsugi,” and “Fishtail” show her at her most vulnerable and intimate. My personal pick for song of the summer, “Peppers,” is a stock “the sun is out, my man and I are hot as fuck, and we can’t keep our hands off each other” Lana song, and the way it seamlessly merges a trip-hoppy Tommy Genesis hook into a sample from “Wipeout” (over fourth-wall-breaking studio chatter that introduces said sample) is a stroke of genius. In short: the bitch is back and better than ever. 

– Grace Robins-Somerville


Militarie Gun – Life Under the Gun

Loma Vista Recordings

Ooh ooh! (There’s no other way I could have started this write-up.) I am so happy Life Under the Gun clocks in at just over 27 minutes; I was able to listen to the album on repeat enough times to identify it as one of my favorite releases of 2023 so far. Ian Shelton (of Regional Justice Center and the podcast I Don’t Care If This Ruins My Life with Drug Church’s/Self-Defense Family’s Patrick Kindlon) grazes hardcore like a poorly aimed bullet knicks the skin. Despite Life Under the Gun’s sonic lightness, its heavy themes of honesty, lethargy, and pressure are explored through the lens of hook-ridden guitar pop. After a few mix EPs (and the perennial banger “Pressure Cooker” with co-conspirator DAZY) under the Militarie Gun moniker, Shelton reveals his knack for songwriting extends to crafting a tight album that contains depth beyond catchy songs.

– Joe Wasserman


Miya Folick – ROACH

Nettwerk Records

I fell in love with Folick’s songwriting a couple of years ago when I first paid close attention to her lyrics on the 2015 track “Talking With Strangers” in reference to a potential friendship:

And half of my brain was totally afraid
That she’d hate me, never want to see me again
And half of my brain was equally afraid
That she’d like me, wanna be my friend

It felt, and still feels, so resonant with my own experience of trying to figure out myself and other people. Her introspections on ROACH pull at the same old threads of identity, meaning, and love, but now we find her an even more whole, interesting human with almost a decade more life experience backing her musings. On most of the album’s songs, Folick’s delicate, yearning voice takes center stage in layered harmonies over feather-light beats and eclectic synths. On “Get Out of My House” and “Shortstop,” she explores the optimistic side of leaving love that no longer serves her, while “Nothing To See” and “Cockroach” alchemize angst into catharsis. My favorite moments, though, are still the ones where she tackles something big. My two favorite tracks, “Oh God” and “Cartoon Clouds,” seem diametrically opposed, but I see them as a bit of a call-and-response—the former asking, only semi-ironically, if perhaps God could provide the meaning her chaotic life needs. The latter answers that same inner void with the simple, grounded conclusion, “Doesn’t it feel good to feel good?”

– Katie Wojciechowski


Nourished by Time – Erotic Probiotic 2

Scenic Route Records

Did you hear? Disco is back, regarded more highly than ever. Unfortunately, it’s also been sanded down at the edges, a mere shell of its former bombast. Elsewhere, shards of the most recalcitrant strands of tasteless late-aughts radio rock are being fashioned into a Frankenstein’s monster of futuristic pop (your mileage may vary). The re-evaluation will not be televised; it will be served up on your Discover Weekly or your For You page. For those seeking a third way, a retro-futurist middle ground between the mawkishly tasteful and pure abrasion, look no further than Erotic Probiotic 2, a sleek dance-pop album with the melodic sensibility of Houston rap’s warbling hooks at the turn of the century. “Daddy” is a winking inversion of heartbreak and “grindset” mentality, while “Rain Water Promise” marries vaporous synths and skittering 80s drums. This is club music for the introverts, emo for the club kids. It’s vulnerable, funky, lush, and, above all, too weird to fade entirely into the background.

– Jason Sloan


Superviolet – Infinite Spring

Lame-O Records

Confession time: I was never a Sidekicks Guy. Maybe I was just a few years too young, maybe if I’d listened to more Iron Chic in high school I would have gotten there, but regardless, I showed up late to the party. Luckily through a string of excellent singles, Lame-O co-sign, and persistent Orgcore gf, I found myself eagerly anticipating Steve Ciolek’s new project Superviolet. Slightly folksier, a little prettier, and much more mature, Infinite Spring feels like a best-case scenario for what happens when you age out of a certain music scene. These songs are loving and naturalistic, concerned with memories, feelings, and human connection above all else. Songs like “Overrater” and “Blue Bower” bring the power pop energy, while tracks like “Good Ghost” and “Wave Back” manage to be some of the most touching and life-affirming pieces of music I’ve heard all year. A beautiful album that showcases an effortless artistic evolution into something entirely its own.

— Taylor Grimes


ther – a horrid whisper echoes in a palace of endless joy

Self-Released

A quietly familiar feeling bubbles up after spending just under 30 minutes listening to a horrid whisper echoes in a palace of endless joy, the second album from Philadelphia’s Heather Jones, a.k.a. ther. Perhaps an emboldened hope, a bit of dread, mixed in with the terrifying wonder of each passing day. Jones writes elegantly and broadly about the mundane, the personal, and the ethereal, shaping into an approximation of life itself. Album opener “1 kid” sets the stage for the diorama of memories and music that ensues. A lyric like “How strange to be born in a time like now / When everybody’s freaking out” grasps at a perpetual absurdity, stretched over every decade and sinking in whenever you find yourself listening. Jones’ questioning lies unanswered; silence is left to speak. There’s no way to wrap your head around the strangeness — it simply always is. a horrid whisper is reminiscent of the various works of Phil Elverum while approaching similar themes in wholly distinct ways. “big papi lassos the moon” sifts through the uncertainty of passing days and the relentless forward motion of time. It starts with David Ortiz and lands on the ambient hope of finding peace within the cosmic complications of life. Pedal steel, cello, and baritone saxophone swirl around pensive guitar melodies yet never swallow the central focus on Jones’ vocals and lyrics. ther has found a place of spectral, overwhelming beauty on a horrid whisper; a place that can’t be understood but still feels like home.

– Wes Muilenburg


Water Damage - 2 Songs 

12XU

Water Damage kind of feels like the perfect name for a band that employs a lot of warped and warbly sounds in their recordings. Austin’s self-proclaimed “drone supergroup” returns for their second album, 2 Songs, and it’s not just a clever name. We’re given two album-side-length bangers that sit between kraut-, noise-, and psych-rock in their near-20-minute runtimes. Comprised of members from Black Eyes, Shit And Shine, and Swans, the band’s lo-fi journeys are as hypnotic as they are haunting, immersive as they are antagonistic, with the two “reels” being titled ‘Fuck This’ and ‘Fuck That.’ Easily one of the most exciting newer bands I’ve discovered this year.

— Logan Archer Mounts


Wednesday – Rat Saw God

Part of me feels like I barely need to sing the praises of Wednesday. The North Carolina band has spent the past few years rapidly climbing the ranks of indie rock with increasingly prolific interviews, reviews, and sold-out shows, gaining an army of fans along the way. Part of me also feels like I already said my piece on this band’s body of work with my massive Countrygaze essay from last November. Despite how much has been written about this band and their latest album, Rat Saw God is a five-star knockout of shoegaze epics, dirtbag love songs, and deep south morality tales that all coalesce into a hot and hazy collection of songs that sound unlike any other band. 

– Taylor Grimes


Worry Club – All Frogs Go To Heaven

Self-released

For the longest time, I kept spinning All Frogs Go To Heaven just trying to figure out how I would even define this music. Emo? Dance? Surf? There’s a little bit of screaming on some songs, while others lean into a boppy HUNNY style of music that would have popped off on Tumblr in 2017. No matter the case, this release grabs you right out of the gate with a two-note riff that gets you in the groove and keeps you (willingly) suspended there for the remaining five tracks. Eventually, I realized the closest thing I could compare Worry Club to is Oso Oso: sunny and lightweight indie rock songs with the occasional drop of emo. Where Worry Club differs is how quickly they rev up to a full-speed throttle and how well they pair a melody with the rapid, robotic guitarwork. Ultimately, Worry Club are in a lane all their own where allowing yourself to be emotional is just as important as dancing through the pain.

– Taylor Grimes

Pool Kids – Pool Kids // POOL | Split Review

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Pool Kids // POOL Split Cover Art

Skeletal Lightning

On the heels of the dizzying success of their 2022 self-titled release, Pool Kids’ newest project is a collaboration with…themselves. The Pool Kids // POOL split sees the Floridians playing off their own extremes, with three decidedly hardcore tracks under the alter ego “POOL,” which serve as foil to side one’s signature twinkly emo sounds. Has this ever been done before? Has a band issued a split with a different iteration of themselves as the second band? Amidst a music industry fraught with stale money grabs, THIS is the kind of fun, fresh thing we need here in the dismal, dreary Year of our Lord 2023. 

The EP starts with the only truly new Pool Kids track, “No Stranger.” Maybe I just have Cocteau Twins on the brain, but the singing here seems like it’s shrouded just a layer or two more than it has been in the band’s past work, delivered in a dreamy haze by vocalist Christine Goodwyne. The song’s urgency builds to a shoegazey bridge, brought back down to earth by the final bass and guitar notes ping-ponging gently off each other. What captured my heart in this song is the pop urgency of the melodies—it’s a subtle but compelling departure from the meandering American-Football-esque constructions of their previous album. However, the sounds of emo and pop-punk roots persist in the layered instruments and Goodwyne’s lyrical phrasing. Is this my new favorite Pool Kids song? Feels crazy to say, but maybe!

The second track is an alternate, slowed-down version of “Talk Too Much,” one of Pool Kids’ 2022 bangers. This reimagined version capitalizes on deliberate softness, paring back the original’s chugging guitars and turning down the dial on the vocals. It’s not necessarily quiet, though; atmospheric keys wrap Goodwyne’s voice in droning layers. The drums in the last portion of the song take me straight to Death Cab For Cutie’s “Grapevine Fires,” perhaps suggesting a throughline of indie pop that tethers some of the band’s songwriting to other disparate influences.

The twinkly guitars make a brief comeback in the third track, a pseudo-acoustic version of the 2022 album single “Arm’s Length.” Andy Anaya’s electric guitar pops in with riffs on the first couple of verses, reminding us who we’re listening to (Pool Kids), and then cedes to a melee of acoustic guitars, sparse drum machines, and even an accordion (I think??!?!). The restrained quality of Goodwyne’s voice gives the song’s lyrics a new dimension: the minimum wage complaint of verse two sounds more despairing than frustrated, for instance. And, of course, the relatable first verse—

I'm in a group chat
With twenty-one goddamn people
I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not
My phone crashes thirty-seven times a day

Where these lyrics once came across as tongue-in-cheek, it’s astonishing how goddamn lonely they suddenly sound when cast in a soft, twilight glow at this new tempo. It’s a gently haunting end to the Pool Kids side of the split.

Then, the twinkles fade, and the mosh pit opens. Yes, it’s a little bit of whiplash, but what did you want, the same old predictable EP that’s half singles you’ve already heard? Get off your ass and RAGE! (This pep talk is as much for myself as it is for the reader, as I am old and somewhat sleepy.)

Without warning, the first POOL track begins with crashing hardcore guitars that lead into a beautifully thrash-worthy breakdown, complete with brutal shrieks and pounding double bass drums–the whole nine yards. At only a minute and 19 seconds, “Cleansing” is a brief and brutal whirlwind, and the funny thing is that it absolutely makes sense in the context of Pool Kids’ technical precision. Guitars? Check. Drums? Check. See, not so different from a Pool Kids song!

For a bit of a history lesson, the mission statement for POOL was first laid out in an emojipasta April Fools tweet back in 2019:

The band put a corresponding two-song single on Bandcamp and even a batch of 7” flexi discs, with the proceeds going to marine research on red tide. Hilariously, Paramore’s Hayley Williams happened to shout out Pool Kids—a career-boosting milestone—that same day, meaning many new fans’ confusing first encounter with Pool Kids was actually the April Fools’ tweet. The band cleared the air the next day with a Twitter thread and promised more POOL shenanigans in the future since it was clearly such a hit.

Making good on their April 1 promise to wreak annihilation, the fiery “Inside A Wall” opens with a breakneck tempo, only to slow down to a heavy chug halfway through. Again, POOL keep it short, with the song clocking in at a slim 1:28. It’s absolutely insane how deftly these guys are picking up an entirely different genre for a couple of songs. 

The final track, “Death Sentence,” feels like the guttural icing on the cake of POOL’s side of the split. Multiple tempo changes wrangle the song into three acts, a quick, yet face-melting saga. Fuck, this would be fun live, wouldn’t it?

When Pool Kids’ self-titled album knocked it out of the park last year, their meteoric success had a lot of people—including the band themselves—curious about what was next. How would they manage to keep such a trademark twinkly emo sound fresh? Philosophically, the answer lies within this split. Chop up the formula: subtly, gracefully, wildly, imaginatively.

In a recent interview, guitarist Andy Anaya beamed confidence at what lay in store in the near future: “We’re just really excited about what’s coming up for us.” The conversation progressed to what the next step looks like: “‘Now, we just want to create something that endures,’ says Andy, with Christine adding, ‘I guess we’re shooting for longevity.’”

I can’t see into the future, so I can’t speak to Pool Kids’ longevity yet. But if we’re talking industry impact, if we’re talking ingenuity, if we’re talking icon behavior (three things that lend themselves to longevity), this split reaffirms that Pool Kids are knocking it out of the park.

Katie Wojciechowski is a music writer and karaoke superstar in Austin, Texas. She is from there, but between 2010 and now, also lived in Lubbock, TX, Portland, OR, and a camper. Her life is a movie in which her bearded dragon Pancake is the star. You can check out her Substack here. She’s writing a book about growing up alongside her favorite band, Paramore.

Hater's Delight – June 2023

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After an unexpected month off, the Swim Into The Sound team is back with another edition of Hater’s Delight, and we’re absolutely bubbling over with bad vibes. 

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 June.

We’re halfway through the year, so let’s get straight to it and leave it all on the field. After all, maybe the back half of 2023 will be better… but I doubt it. 

Don’t Delete Your Songs!!

I started playing in bands during the MySpace era, so I may be especially sensitive to this, but I hate when bands intentionally scrub their early recordings from the internet after releasing a new album. I get it; you want to appear like a brand new band, clean up your online presence and try to make it easy for a new fan to get into. Or maybe you feel embarrassed of those early records; perhaps you’ve outgrown those songs… But I liked those early recordings!! I want to hear your progression as an artist!! 

This brings up a thought that doesn’t feel controversial to me, but clearly, everyone might not agree with; once you make a song and put it out in the wild, it no longer belongs to you. It’s everybody’s, especially anybody with an emotional connection to it. 

A possible alternative to scrubbing your songs off the internet: maybe rebrand your band. A great example of this is the band Now, Now. I like listening to those early Now, Now Every Children records, partially because it’s wild to see a great band grow in change over 15 years. Either way, I want your early records back!! You don’t even have to put them on Spotify, just put them somewhere. I am too scared to pirate music and want to pay you money; please, do me this kindness. I’m not the only one who feels this way.

Ben Sooy – @bensooy


Smith Vs. Smiths

Beatles or Stones? Van Halen or Van Hagar? Blue Album or Pinkerton? There are some age-old debates among music enthusiasts that never get old and are pretty fun to dive into. But let’s please, please, please be done with The Cure versus The Smiths. The two alternative cornerstones are so different and influential in their own right, it’s not fair to compare. For people who hate Morrissey outright, it’s not worth breaching the conversation. But let’s look at the hard facts: The Smiths’ catalog only spans four studio albums, two compilations, and one live album across four years. The Cure have been an active band since 1978, are currently on a massive summer tour, and have released twice the output of The Smiths in proper albums alone. The Smiths, while brilliant and innovative, pretty much stuck to one sound on every song. The Cure have experimented, with some varied results, more than a few times on albums like Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me and Wild Mood Swings. It’s perfectly okay to have a musical preference for one or the other, and it’s important to recognize both of their places in rock history. But neither are “better” than the other, there’s too much different about them.

Logan Archer Mounts – @VERTICALCOFFIN


Defending Your Fave From “Normies”

Call it gatekeeping, call it superiority complex, call it whatever you want, but some fans just plain suck. Last week, a photo of Bad Bunny and Kendall Jenner record shopping went semi-viral. That picture was innocuous enough, but what got me was a quote tweet that simply commanded, “ummmm put that down.” I zoomed in on the image to see that the second-youngest Jenner was holding a vinyl copy of Phoebe Bridgers’ debut album Stranger In The Alps. Man. Funny enough, some people in the comments were quick to point out that Kendall Jenner had posted Boygenius on her Instagram story back in 2018; about as OG of a fan of that band as you can be. I know the original tweet can be written off as a joke, but it still bugs me when people try to exclude someone they view as "unworthy" to be part of their fandom or invalidate someone else's enjoyment of an artist they supposedly love. At this point, Phoebe Bridgers is closer to a pop star than anything, you can’t be revolted when popular people like her popular music. Comparing your love for an artist to someone else’s (or thinking that your adoration is more “legitimate”) is a recipe for disaster. Give me a break, and let people enjoy “Scott Street” in peace.

Taylor Grimes – @GeorgeTaylorG


TV Shows About Great Musicians, Minus Great Music

A few months back, I saw someone tweet something along the lines of “Stevie Nicks walked so Daisy Jones could run.” I’m sorry, STEVIE NICKS WALKED??? So Wattpad Stevie Nicks could RUN????? Look, I get that replicating the magic of what is widely considered one of the greatest bands of all time is a tall order, but if you’re gonna make a show about a band that’s supposed to be a fictional analog to Fleetwood Mac, you gotta at least make the songs good. This doesn’t even sound like if you bought Fleetwood Mac from SHEIN, it sounds like if you bought your uncle’s friend’s Fleetwood Mac cover band from SHEIN. Not to mention the fact that this show’s costume designer seems to have raided Urban Outfitters’ 2015 Coachella collection for the characters’ “70s” looks, or that half the cast has a terminal case of Instagram Face.

While we’re on the topic of TV shows about musicians that feel lightyears removed from the reality of the music industry, Max’s The Idol makes Daisy Jones & The Six look like the fucking Sopranos. The brainchild of the ~twisted minds~ of Sam Levinson and Abel “The Weeknd” Tesfaye has been rife with controversy from the start, from alleged workers’ rights violations to accusations that the show’s content is misogynistic and exploitative. However, the show’s greatest sin seems to lie in its inability to pinpoint exactly what kind of musical stardom they’re trying to represent, and when they fail to do that, whatever critiques they might have of celebrity culture or the music business just kind of free fall without anywhere to land. Who is Jocelyn supposed to be? Throughout the show, she’s presented as a sort of Britney Spears stand-in (in ways that are, frankly, pretty insulting to Britney), but she’s a Gen-Z (or young Millennial) popstar coming up in a post-Britney landscape. She’s billed as a world-famous, boundary-pushing bad girl, but er the song that’s supposed to save her career (titled “World-Class Sinner”) sounds like something you’d stumble upon about five songs deep into Spotify’s algorithmically-generated radio that plays automatically at the end of a Dua Lipa album. Also, as many others have pointed out, what the fuck kind of pop diva mononym is Jocelyn? Apologies to all the Jocelyns out there, but Jocelyn is the name of the girl who restocks perfumes at the Victoria's Secret PINK store in the mall. It’s not the kind of first-name-only-name you’d see lit up Madonna/Rihanna/Beyonce-style for a sold-out stadium show. Moreover, The Idol seems to suck all the fun and opulence out of its portrayals of Hollywood debauchery. The sex scenes are boring. The drug montages are boring. They even managed to make an extravagant Rodeo Drive shopping spree look about as fun and sexy as a consumer report on the five o’clock news.

For now, I think I’ll stick to the Refused and Wilco needle drops in FX’s The Bear.

Grace Robins-Somerville – @grace_roso


Austin’s “Hot Girls Have IBS” Billboard

There is a billboard in East Austin—and yes, I’m aware that it exists in a few other places, but the Austin one is the one I’ve seen with my own eyes AND seen tweets about—that says, “Hot girls have IBS.” The aesthetic is vaguely retro-Microsoft Paint-Y2K, emulating a meme style made popular in the past few years by accounts like @dollarstoremakeup. I’ve seen MULTIPLE people, not just Austinites, post/repost this billboard with great amusement. 

Here’s the thing: ~relatable~ jokes about IBS? Not my cup of meme tea, but whatever. This aesthetic? Again, I think it’s a bit played out, but am I a full-on hater? No. It’s the fact that corporations are harnessing those things to create a successful viral ad campaign that smart, funny people are falling for—TALKING ABOUT, unsponsored, online. Have some fucking self-respect, people! You’re giving this bullshit wellness company exactly what they want: free promotion. It’s giving cringe millennial that doesn’t realize they’re being advertised to. But, of course, the primary target of my hate in this situation is the supplement company. A scourge upon my East Austin journeys, the internet, and, I would assume, bank accounts of the women this kind of advertising is apparently working on so well.

Katie Wojciechowski – @ktewoj


Respecting Others at the Gig 

Although this post is titled “Hater’s Delight,” this is much less me “hating” on these people as it is me calling out these clowns who go to shows and act stupid. One would assume it’s common sense that just because you are at a punk/hardcore show, it does not give you free rein to grab and touch whomever or whatever you’d like. Just over the past month, there have been two notable instances of this happening.

The first one that popped on my radar was a tweet by @hate5six on June 5th. In the post, he attached a video portraying a member of the crowd coming onto the stage and grabbing his camera. In true 300 style, hate5six uses this opportunity to Spartan kick the concert-goer off the stage, as he is 100% right to do. As stated in his tweet, “Play stupid games like having main character syndrome, win stupid prizes.” Despite the usual Twitter discourse that this situation stirred, I think most sane people can agree that you should not touch anybody’s property without consent. 

Speaking of consent, the second instance of cringe buffoonery happened at Heart Attack Man’s Denver concert on June 24th. The band's frontman Eric Egan took to Twitter after the show to apologize for losing his cool after someone went on stage and forcefully attempted to kiss him. Rightfully upset about this, Eric used the mic stand to defend himself. People with little concern for others’ space or property deserve their assed kicked with zero remorse. These same people then act shocked when there are repercussions to their immature actions. In conclusion, having main character syndrome at the gig = likely getting rocked in some way, shape, or form. 

Brandon Cortez – @numetalrev


Terrible Stage Banter

“WHAT THE FUCK IS UP, PITCHFORK?” is followed by the softest acoustic performance I’ve ever heard. It’s the fifth artist of the day to start their set with that tired six-word refrain. At the risk of sounding like a square, let’s talk about the terrible stage banter of indie artists. If you write incredibly interesting, creative, and thoughtful music, please, for the love of the English language, stop opening your set like you’re band 3 of 7 at a Denny’s All-American-High School-Mosh-Fest.

We get it; you’re “edgy.” Congrats. If you actually want to go against the grain, say something different to introduce your set. Allow your stage banter to be as interesting as your music. Have a catchphrase. Make a joke. Tell everyone you’re U2. Make up a fake band name. Just stop starting your festival set with that cliché, profanity-laced rhetorical question.

Here are a few intro lines I’ve heard/used at shows with some success. Feel free to steal one:

  • “How’s everyone’s pandemic going?”

  • “Good evening. My name is [your name here], what’s your name? (play loud guitar part as the crowd confusingly answers at the same time).”

  • “Are you ready for some soft rock?!?” (to the tune of Hank William’s Monday Night Football song)

  • “We’re all going to die.”

 Jack Droppers - @jackdroppers


Left Behind

In 2010, my middle school theater teacher shared her theory for why Taylor Swift was becoming so popular. She told us that Taylor’s voice was light, easy, and refreshing compared to the bombastic voices of pop stars in the 2000s. I might be the only person from that class who remembers our teacher saying that, and I remember it because that was the first time I had ever been prompted to think about music beyond “I like” or “I don’t like.” Also, I remember what my teacher said that day because I still cannot understand why I am unable to breathe in the same fresh air (Taylor Swift) that others around me seem to be luxuriating in. I am a person who likes to love things, and during this month, I have become increasingly bothered by my inability to love Taylor Swift. What made sense to be seen as refreshing in 2010 has long since felt tired and unchanging to me. Her songs have too many words in them – my friend Rose said this, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it because she put words to what I feel every time I listen to Ms. Swift’s work. The Eras Tour has been a tough time for me, mainly because I cannot join in on the fun.

Kirby Kluth – @kirbykluth