tenmonthsummer – midwestern haikus

Self-released

tenmonthsummer might be one of the vital up-and-coming emo bands working right now. It helps that they have a good sense of humor and a charming frontperson in Nishat Ahmed, but they also seem to be building their body of work with vision and longevity in mind. In my estimation, the Chicago band is approaching the genre the “right” way by putting out a bunch of splits and EPs before jumping to anything more sizable. This is the sweet spot for emo bands: things are still new and exciting as the group fleshes out their sound, but they still have space to experiment and take half steps in different sonic directions with smaller, bite-sized projects. 

The lakeshore emo band first came onto my radar at the end of 2024 with the release of fate lines, a Pokemon-referencing EP (always a good sign) that offers five undeniable tracks and comes complete with a sick Gameboy-branded physical edition. From that point on, I feel like I have seen a tenmonthsummer shirt at virtually every emo show I’ve been to in the Midwest, even if the band wasn’t a part of the lineup. 

I truly love the clip at which this band has been releasing stuff. Last year, they did a three-way split with fellow Chicago bands Valatie and Background Character and also organized a compilation of Turnover covers with all proceeds going toward HRT accessibility and affordability. Just a few months ago, they released your name is my ocean, a five-track EP that contained some of the band’s most overt, political, and confessional tracks to date. Everything sounded better, and the band seemed more confident, with memorable instrumental moments stacked up against even better choruses, occasionally sprinkled with horns and spoken-word passages. 

All of this would have been impressive on its own, but last week they went and dropped midwestern haikus on us: a six-song acoustic EP with lots to chew on. The opening title track is a banjo-emo banger that unfurls in the exact same way as Ben Quad’s “What Fer?” but presents itself as a spoken-word love letter to Ahmed’s parents, friends, city, and his own artistic practice, questioning how far he can take it all. This is delivered as a hyper-earnest, hyper-compelling poem that one Instagram commenter summed up as “La Dispute post therapy type beat.” Hell yeah.

The following track, “listening to kerosene heights makes me want to be a better person,” is a direct nod to tenmonthsummer’s peers, Southeast emo-punx Kerosene Heights, specifically their song “Perfect Timing.” tenmo borrows some lyrics and the melody from that song and uses them as a jumping-off point for the current speaker’s self-improvement. It’s really beautiful and inspiring, a sort of “fifth wave squared” where even this album from a few years ago can become canonized, crystallized, and spun off into something new and exciting. I think more bands should experiment with this, even if it’s just a writing exercise, because, as tenmonthsummer reason, art is a conversation and we still deserve flowers while we’re alive.

Similar themes of growth, yearning, and connection are found on the back half of the EP, with the final track being a simple (but beautiful) full-circle repetition of “Can I bloom?” a lovely sentiment that, as the band themselves explain, is only a question that you can answer.