Hey there, readers and guests! The July 2024 playlist is here (I thought about trying to get it done last week, but I had a few things to wrap up around the end of the month and August 6th isn’t that late), and it’s an instant classic, I can tell. A ton of new music is down below–almost everything here is from this year, although there are a couple of exceptions for a recently-departed indie pop icon, an excellent undersung band I saw live recently, and a newly-reissued lost 90s shoegaze group. Read on to find out what I mean by those!
Teenage Tom Petties, Christina’s Trip, and Adam Finchler all have more than one song on this playlist (two apiece).
Here is where you can listen to the playlist on various streaming services: Spotify, Tidal (missing a song), BNDCMPR (missing three songs). Be sure to check out previous playlist posts if you’ve enjoyed this one, or visit the site directory. If you’d like to support Rosy Overdrive, you can share this (or another) post, or donate here.
“Hold on to the Dream, Dreamer”, Strange Magic
From Slightest of Hands (2024, Mama Mañana)
An underappreciated member of the current power pop revival, one can’t say that Albuquerque, New Mexico’s Javier Romero hasn’t been busy as of late. Arising from a self-imposed mission to write, record, and mix one song a week for all of 2022, the following year saw the release of four different albums from his project Strange Magic. Admittedly, these slipped by me–but not to worry, as Romero put together a cassette of twenty-two highlights from these records called Slightest of Hands that came out in May. There’s a lot of good stuff on it, but “Hold on to the Dream, Dreamer” hits hard and immediately–it’s the perfect mix of distorted, darkly-clouded guitars and delicately melodic vocals. The instrumental surges in the song’s refrain, but we can hear Romero just well enough.
“Lucky”, The Dahlmanns
From Lucky (2024, Snap)
Hey, check out this cool new guitar pop band I just stumbled upon! Well, “new” probably isn’t the right word for The Dahlmanns, as the Scandinavian group have been around since at least the beginning of the 2010s. They’ve put out a couple of albums, but the bulk of their releases have been singles and short EPs–which also describes the record that caused me to discover them, the three-song Lucky. The record contains two covers as B-sides (their take on Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ “A Thing About You” is excellent), but the original A-side and title track is my favorite. It’s just pitch perfect power pop/indie pop from the get-go, starting with choppy power chords, adding in an ascending jangle, and the chorus sounds weary but strong enough to stand up against the energy The Dahlmanns (a pseudonymous group; there’s supposedly five of them on this EP) give the rest of the track.
“I Got Previous”, Teenage Tom Petties
From Teenage Tom Petties (2024, Repeating Cloud/Safe Suburban Home)
The third Teenage Tom Petties album in as many years (and second self-titled one) is almost entirely bedroom-recorded alone by Tom Brown, but it’s got the attitude to match last year’s full-band Hotbox Daydreams. Opening track “I Got Previous” is a massive-sounding power pop/slacker rock anthem (yes, it’s worth of the A-word) that balances instant mythmaking (the title phrase, which I suspect will enter my lexicon as soon as I figure out how to incorporate it), nods to the trailblazers (“I got a plan, though / I’m Evan Dando”, as well as The Blue Album just in the song’s whole vibe), and self-effacement (the humble delivery of “Hey Jeanine / Yeah, it’s me / Tom from ‘93”, as well as the use of “clusterfuck” and “liquid lunch” as personal descriptors)–all over a wobbly but effective wall of guitars. Read more about Teenage Tom Petties here.
“Patrick”, Adam Finchler
From The Room (2024, Window Sill)
Musically, “Patrick” is one of the absolutely friendliest and most immediate moments on The Room–it’s an incredibly potent guitar pop song that finds Adam Finchler fully embracing peppy indie pop. Lyrically, “Patrick” is a cypher–Finchler studies the titular character with an obsessive voice, with every line almost revealing something (“Patrick, everybody loves you / Patrick, no one doesn’t like you … / Patrick, every little movement / Patrick, you create a universe / Patrick, you’re a cosmic dancer”), up until Finchler reaches the conclusion that sounds uneasily fantastic in light of all that’s come before it (“I wish I could be just like you / I could own your ugliness”). Read more about The Room here.
“My Toxic Friend”, The Reds, Pinks & Purples
From My Toxic Friend (2024, Burundi Cloud)
You have to listen to all of it. All the “normal” LPs, all the Bandcamp-only albums, the covers EPs, the one-off singles, the self-recorded, self-released outtakes. Because with Glenn Donaldson, you just never know. In mid-July, Donaldson released a two-song single under his Reds Pinks & Purples alias, and the A-side of it might just be my favorite song he’s ever done. At the very least, it’s some of the best power pop-adjacent writing the San Francisco “sadcore” singer-songwriter has ever pulled off–Donaldson’s no stranger to soaring electric guitars, to be sure, but it’s still exhilarating and just a bit surprising when “My Toxic Friend” really just goes for it in the chorus. Maybe Donaldson has to make “My Toxic Friend” sound like this, as a way of exorcising the rough relationship alluded to in the song’s title. The lyrics are blunt, but you know what Donaldson means by them (if you don’t, I envy you).
“Any Good Thing”, Virginity
From Bad Jazz (2024, Smartpunk)
Daytona Beach’s Virginity are the latest Florida band competing in the power pop-pop punk-emo sweepstakes to come to my attention, on the occasion of their third album, Bad Jazz. Their Bandcamp page says that they’re “just trying to be Superdrag”, and they also covered Superdrag’s “I’m Expanding My Mind” back in 2020, practically begging me to use that band instead of Weezer as their major 90s power pop sonic touchpoint. Well, I’m sidestepping that debate a bit, as the song I liked most from Bad Jazz, “Any Good Thing”, takes a step away from the alt-rock wall-of-sound guitars and steps into the world of jangly college rock. That guitar intro is incredibly blissful, and it’s a short but eventful walk from there to the chorus, where Virginity really embrace their power pop side–both in the construction of it, and in the refrain (“I could talk myself out of almost any good thing”, repeat ad nauseam).
“Scooter Blues”, Johnny Blue Skies
From Passage Du Desir (2024, High Top Mountain)
Alright, Sturgill Simpson, you’ve won me back. Not that he’d ever “lost” me–his bluegrass albums and The Ballad of Dood & Juanita were perfectly fine with limited replay value in my book–but Passage Du Desir is pretty clearly his best work in this decade, if not his greatest front-to-back LP overall as of yet. Simpson–sorry, “Johnny Blue Skies”, which he’s calling himself to remind us that he’s a very special guy–sounds revitalized and relaxed throughout Passage Du Desir, and nowhere is that more apparent than “Scooter Blues”, the album’s lynchpin. From the opening lyrics (“I’ve been feeling like a piece of rice paper / Think I’ll move to an island and turn into vapor”) onward, it’s a powerful piece of smooth country-rock manifesting–Simpson doesn’t even need to state the obvious like he does in the refrain (“When people say, ‘Are you him?’ I’ll say, ‘Not anymore’”), but he sounds so great doing it that I don’t mind.
“I’ll Take It”, Christina’s Trip
From Forever After (2024, Cherub Dream)
Forever After is the most pop-forward record I’ve heard from Cherub Dream Records yet–led by Christina Busler’s clear vocals, the album’s eight songs float pop melodies towards the listener wistfully but confidently. The guitars are loud but not overly distorted or blanketing, recalling underappreciated 90s indie rock groups like The Spinanes and Velocity Girl and even early guitar-based dream pop, while the band’s lo-fi, off-the-cuff attitude evokes prime K Records. The second half of the record might be the best half–at the very least, that’s where you’ll find “I’ll Take It”, the song that, despite being a bit of a departure from the rest of the album, was the one that hooked me initially. It’s a showstopper–a searing four-chord ballad that’s breathtaking in its blunt discomfort–and it will leave you with an emotional hangover of sorts. Read more about Forever After here.
“Cuttin’ My Hair”, Charlie Overman
From Charlie Overman (2024)
Lately I’ve been finding myself impressed with the self-titled debut album from Charlie Overman, a country singer-songwriter from Lexington, Kentucky. Charlie Overman is pretty much exactly what I want in an Appalachian country record these days–in touch with tradition but not wedded to it, incredibly catchy, funny, and with plenty of fiddle and banjo. “Cuttin’ My Hair”, my favorite song on the album (closely followed by “Canada Thistle”, which just missed this playlist), is Overman’s best attempt at proving his bluegrass bona fides. Overman’s train of thought is gripping as always on this one, jumping from reminiscing about being stoned by the university to “doing tattoos after art school” to imagining a life as a “rock and roll star”. I believe this is the “longhair bluegrass” that Robbie Fulks sang about.
“Anton Lavey”, Awful Din
From Sunday Gentlemen (2024, We’re Trying)
For whatever reason, I always get Anton Lavey and Timothy McVeigh confused–so I was definitely confused by the title of the lead-off song from Awful Din’s latest EP at first. I’m on the same page as them now, and I’m definitely on board with the Brooklyn quartet’s oddly catchy emo-punk ambivalent tribute to the founder of the Church of Satan. There are two equally potent hooks here, the grandeur of the first half of the hook (“Taming lions and Marilyn Monroe / You’re so apocryphal”) and the quiet-loud stopping and starting of the second half that gives the EP its name. “Anton Lavey” the song doesn’t hesitate to go in on the titular figure (“Are you worshipping power or worshipping Pan? / Can you innovate or just regurgitate Rand? / …. / There’s no conviction in what you’re about / There’s always a way out”), but is the rejection of Lavey just continuing the thread of what he championed? Eh, whatever, sounds great.
“Infinite Possibilities”, Happy Accidents
From Edit Undo (2024, Alcopop!)
Musical duo (and real-life couple) Rich Mandell and Phoebe Cross have been known to me for a while as the rhythm section of ME REX, one of the best bands currently going “across the pond”, but the two of them have been making music together as Happy Accidents for a decade. I admit that I hadn’t checked out Happy Accidents before now, but the lead single from their most recent, upcoming record Edit Undo got my attention immediately. “Infinite Possibilities” is a slow-moving, snaking pop song that soaks up every second of its four-minute runtime. Mandell’s casual-sounding vocals surprisingly kick things up a notch for a “slacker” but still moving chorus (Cross, behind the drumkit, joins him briefly but memorably in the refrain), and the lyrics slowly but agreeably give into paranoia and dread when it comes to the titular limitlessness (“Infinitely catching colds / Infinitely breathing mold”).
“Busy Bold Sounds”, Lonnie Walker
From Easy Easy Easy Easy (2024, Sleepy Cat)
Raleigh, North Carolina’s Lonnie Walker follow in the tradition of the more sprawling side of southern garage rock on Easy Easy Easy Easy, taking scenic routes and augmenting their barebones rock and roll setup with extended jams and hot, humid psychedelia to match the frantic energy of frontperson Brian Corum’s writing and performance. Several songs on Easy Easy Easy Easy cross the five-minute barrier–like “Busy Bold Sounds”, a triumphant piece of garage-y power pop that sounds effortless and doesn’t drag for a moment. The fist-pumping chorus and the jangly, shimmering guitars that immediately follow it are both so pleasing that Lonnie Walker can repeat them for as long as they want and I don’t think they’d ever lose their respective charms. Read more about Easy Easy Easy Easy here.
“Ya Don’t Think?”, Bryn Battani
From Guest Room (2024)
“I don’t think your parents would like me much / They’re in the business of keeping their son / And I’m a distraction,” great stuff from Minneapolis’ Bryn Battani, here. There’s a lot that goes into the lead-off track of her latest EP, Guest Room–there’s a kind of whimsical 2000s alt-pop attitude to the construction and delivery, there’s some 2010s “indie folk” whistling and violin, while at other moments the song takes a rootsier/“Americana”-tinged shape. In the wrong hands, this combination would suck, but Battani has an excellent song on her hands with “Ya Don’t Think?”, a track that pulls off lightheaded and deep, oversharing but still keeping some things close to the vest, and dodging between the various genres without sounding contrived.
“Sinker”, Downhaul
From How to Begin (2024, Self Aware/Landland)
Rosy Overdrive has been a booster of all things Downhaul ever since their last LP, 2021’s PROOF, so it’s no surprise that I’m heavily anticipating their upcoming third album, How to Begin (and their first for Self Aware Records, a Coastal South pairing that just makes too much sense). There are two songs from the album out already–my favorite of the two is lead single “Sinker”, which I knew was a classic pretty much from the moment I heard it. The notes for the album indicate that Downhaul attempted to make something more streamlined and accessible after the experimental emo/post-rock touches of PROOF and last year’s Squall EP, and “Sinker” is certainly a success in that regard. Singer Gordon Phillips sounds right at home on the song’s rambling alt-country instrumental, gliding across a sharp two-minute pop song that doesn’t lose any of Phillips’ keen, attention-grabbing writing regardless.
“Slow Shove”, Bird Language
From Chasing Echos (2024)
Bird Language is a quintet from Boston made up of a few longtime local indie rockers; their first album, 625 Days, showed up in 2022, and the four-song Chasing Echos EP is their first record since then. The group’s Bandcamp page describes their sound as “ambient pop rock”, a descriptor that I imagine could mean a variety of different things to different people. To Bird Language, it apparently means “sounds like Matthew Sweet”–or, at least, that’s what the EP’s lead-off track, “Slow Shove”, recalls to me. It’s a great pop song regardless, mind you–it’s a mid-tempo, well-orchestrated power pop track with a bit of maximalist 1970s AOR energy to it, too. About two-thirds of the way through “Slow Shove”, it shifts entirely, picking up the tempo and drama for a big finish. It’s effectively two ideas grafted together, but Bird Language pull it off seamlessly.
“McRib”, Miss Bones
From Grey Lady (2023)
“McRib” is the best song I’ve heard about being trans in a long time. Okay, okay, let’s back up for a second. Miss Bones is the project of June Isenhart, who plays in The Michael Character along with Lonesome Joan’s Amanda Lozada, and Miss Bones and Lonesome Joan recently did a string of shows together I was fortunate enough to catch. “McRib” blew me away when I saw it, both in Miss Bones’ incredibly electric, spirited version of the track at the show and in the lyrics (the refrain begins with “I’m breaking back into the garden / I’m taking back what I was promised”, and lands the titular metaphor from that starting point). The recorded version is a little slower and more like dreamy folk-pop (compared to a more power pop reading live), but either way it’s great and powerful stuff.
“Permanent Repeat”, Macseal
From Permanent Repeat (2024, Counter Intuitive)
Back when Yeah, No, I Know came out in 2017, Farmingdale, New York’s Macseal was a clear-cut fourth-wave emo group, but they’d been hinting at a sonic expansion ever since 2019’s Super Enthusiast. While Ryan Bartlett and Cole Szilagyi still sound like “emo vocalists”, it’s more than fair to say that Macseal has straight-up transformed at this point–their latest record, Permanent Repeat, immerses itself in the worlds of power pop, polished pop punk, and even widescreen “heartland” indie rock across its eleven tracks. The title track is both a clear example of this and something of a subversion–the band barrels through “Permanent Repeat” for nearly three minutes before tacking the full version of the refrain (the catchiest single moment on the entire album) on at the end, upending any sort of traditional pop structure. Read more about Permanent Repeat here.
“Just Like Eddie”, Love Fiend
From Handle with Care (2024, In the Red)
Hey, Love Fiend–Ric Ocasek called, he said “Let the good times roll”. It’s probably unfair to reduce Love Fiend to a modern-day Cars tribute act (not that that’s a bad thing to be), given that the delivery of the band’s lead singer makes them sound closer to that than they actually are, but their In the Red debut, Handle with Care, is some excellent 80s power pop regardless. My favorite song on the Los Angeles quintet’s latest is “Just Like Eddie”, a saxophone-powered rock and roll anthem that’s pretty undeniable to anybody who’s open to the kind of thing I’ve described in these past few sentences. As the band say in the chorus: “Don’t stop, let it rock”. That’s so true, Love Fiend!
“Life Is Funny”, The Dreaded Laramie
From Princess Feedback (2024, Smartpunk)
On their first album, Princess Feedback, Nashville’s The Dreaded Laramie are power pop/pop punk mercenaries, zeroing in on the mainstream side of 90s alt-rock revival and blowing it up to eleven. As huge and polished-sounding as its inner contents are messy and uncomfortable, frontperson M.C. Cunningham delivers gut-spiller after gut-spiller throughout the album, largely focused around a breakup but leaping all over the place. As fun as “Life Is Funny” is to listen to, it’s a wildly unhealthy quasi-relationship described therein, the messaging and connecting continuing even after Cunningham’s been left feeling ego-bruised and “humiliated” by the person in question. Read more about Princess Feedback here.
“It’s Over”, Surrealistic Pillhead
From Surrealistic Pillhead (2024, Future Shock)
I’ve had this song on the playlist for a while now, and it still confuses me a bit. Surrealistic Pillhead are a new band from Philadelphia featuring a few notable musicians (guitarist Ian Corrigan plays in Star Party, bassist Hart Seely in Sheer Mag), and their debut EP is out via legendary Cincinnati garage rock imprint Future Shock. That being said, I’m not quite sure how to describe “It’s Over”, my favorite song from the EP. Its instrumental is certainly poppy (from the opening melodic guitar line onward), while vocalist Greg Cordera is a rambling speak-singer in the verses and a psych-punker in the chorus. There’s a classic garage rock rousing aspect to the refrain–but the loitering that Surrealistic Pillhead do in the verses in between choruses is pretty entertaining, too.
“Darker Now”, Spirit Night
From Time Won’t Tell (2024)
Almost exactly one year after the release of Bury the Dead (one of my favorite LPs of 2023), Spirit Night’s Dylan Balliett has announced his impending fifth album under the name, Time Won’t Tell. After tackling some heady subject matter about his roots in small town eastern panhandle West Virginia on Bury the Dead, Time Won’t Tell (recorded with Miserable chillers’ Miguel Gallego on bass and Rozwell Kid’s Jordan Hudkins on drums) seems like a chance for Balliett to make a breezier jangly power pop album. “Darker Now”, the record’s lead single, is compellingly playful, from its Flying Nun-esque keyboards to its guitar accents (“Jazzmaster noodles” is how Balliett describes them) to the classic handclaps. It’s also about depression, obviously–the lyrics do their best to fight off the seemingly insurmountable darkness at the edge of the hidden bay.
“Satin Doll”, The Chills
From Kaleidoscope World (1986, Flying Nun/Creation)
What is there to say about Martin Phillipps? Unlike Chris Knox or (to a degree) David Kilgour, Phillipps’ genius was always front and center in his writing, the most clearly “pop” of the Dunedin greats. Phillipps’ personal struggles meant that there aren’t as many records of his compared to his contemporaries, but all of them from 1987’s Brave Words to 2021’s Scatterbrain are sharp indie pop albums anyone with a passing interest in the genre would do well to check out. I’m sure I’m not the only one whose favorite Chills release is the Kaleidoscope World compilation–obviously the title track and “Pink Frost” are classics, I’ve always been partial to “Doledrums”, but “Satin Doll” is the one that stuck out to me when I put it on the morning I learned of Phillipps’ passing. Its half-awake chamber pop sound was one of the Chills’ most beloved modes, and they excelled at it again and again–as messy as the song’s desk is, there’s never any doubt that it’s going to come up to the podium and nail the chorus.
“Dumb Enough”, Teenage Tom Petties
From Teenage Tom Petties (2024, Repeating Cloud/Safe Suburban Home)
The latest Teenage Tom Petties album has enough bangers on it that it’s understandable to get overwhelmed by it all. Tom Brown has sequenced it pretty well, though–the first half balances lighter fare like “Tuff Top” and “This Autumn Body” with what might the record’s centerpiece, “Dumb Enough”. The electricity of this one is palpable pretty much from the get-go, and it wastes no time in establishing itself as a straight-up Superdrag/Rentals torpedo of a track that would easily be the best thing on the record if there wasn’t also a lot of other very good songs on it. It made this playlist over “Night Nurse” and “Handstands for You Love” and “Hawaiian Air”, true, but really that just means it sounded slightly better than those ones at the moment I had to decide between them. Hard to choose anything else when you get to that chorus, though. Read more about Teenage Tom Petties here.
“Playthings”, Christina’s Trip
From Forever After (2024, Cherub Dream)
I’ve already touched on “I’ll Take It”, a breathtaking selection from Christina’s Trip’s Forever After that’s my personal favorite from the album. The only way to follow something like that up is to change tack completely, and Christina’s Trip launch into my second favorite song on the record, “Playthings”, immediately afterwards. The band embrace lo-fi indie punk and American twee in ways they hadn’t previously in the record’s more stately, restrained dream pop/noise pop beginnings on “Playthings”, to pretty undeniable results, and Christina Busler is really on one here (“Are we born to be our parent’s playthings? / To be bought and sold and fucked,” absolutely blistering delivery here). Read more about Forever After here.
“Seine”, Majesty Crush
From Butterflies Don’t Go Away (2024, Numero Group)
Like (I’m guessing) many others, my first exposure to 90s shoegaze group Majesty Crush was via Third Man Records’ 2020 Southeast of Saturn compilation, a document of Detroit’s “buzzy, thriving space-rock scene”. Their song “No. 1 Fan” led off that album, and I’ve been waiting for Majesty Crush’s out-of-print discography to get reissued in full since then. Numero Group finally did it with Butterflies Don’t Go Away, pulling together their lone full length plus EPs and singles–my favorite song on it (other than “No. 1 Fan”, which is hard to beat) is one of their final recordings, “Seine”. Originally from 1994’s Sans Muscles EP, “Seine” is a beast, with Hobey Echlin’s bass absolutely slicing through the mix and nicely complimenting David Stroughter’s dark but compelling lyrics and delivery.
“Humdinger”, Brother of Monday
From Humdinger (2024, Wilbur & Moore)
Mastered by longtime Robert Pollard collaborator Todd Tobias, Humdinger captures the basement melancholy of pre-Propeller Guided by Voices in the songwriting of Newark, Delaware’s Peter Bothum, aka Brother of Monday. On his second album under the name, his hooks and guitars push against their lo-fi recording but never in a way that makes it feel anything but the appropriate vehicle for the material. In particular, the just guitar-and-vocals recording of the title track captures the pastoral urgency of some of Pollard’s most intimate Suitcase offerings–it evokes the same feeling of something that, upon being “incomplete”, has actually stumbled onto an even more powerful piece of art. Read more about Humdinger here.
“Wanted”, Noun
From Wanted/Consumed (2024, Muffler)
Screaming Females may be dead and disbanded (bowing out with last year’s excellent Desire Pathway and this spring’s companion EP Clover), but the good news is that their former frontperson, Marissa Paternoster, isn’t going anywhere. The last EP from her Noun project, In the Shade, was one of my favorites of 2021, and after a quieter solo album released under her own name, she’s picked up the Noun moniker to get back to heavy rock and rolling. Now joined by drummer Phillip Price, “Wanted” leads off a fiery two-song Noun single, an absolute wrecking ball that burns brighter than anything Screaming Females had done in the years before their break-up. It’s vintage Paternoster, recalling brute force rock music from the 70s with her own distinct stamp on it–loud, catchy, and angry.
“Sleepless”, Pack Rat
From Life’s a Trap (2024, Hosehead/Drunken Sailor)
Vancouver’s Patrick McEachnie plays in the band Chain Whip, but in 2021 he released a solo album under the name Pack Rat called Glad to Be Forgotten. In the following years, Pack Rat has become a full-on quartet of its own featuring members of Bratboy and Corner Boys, and the evolution is quite apparent on their second LP, Life’s a Trap. Indebted to vintage garage and punk rock, Life’s a Trap is an easily digestible hook-fest; my favorite song is a zippy single going steady called “Sleepless” that’s sung by someone other than McEachnie (it could be anyone–guitarist Bella Bebe, bassist Ripley McEachnie, and drummer Tony Dallas all have vocal credits on the record). The vocals are game to skip along with the music, the motormouth delivery matching the theme of the song (“I don’t know what to do / I wanna go, I wanna be alone”).
“Glide”, Stay Mad
From Buddy (2024, Candlepin)
Trying to keep abreast of the plethora of releases that have come out recently via Candlepin Records, one album that caught my ears was Buddy, the debut solo album from Mic Adams. Most notably the drummer for Cincinnati indie rock group The Ophelias, the first record from Stay Mad is a brief but impressive collection of lo-fi rock, bedroom pop, and indie fuzz that fits well on Candlepin’s roster. My favorite song on Buddy is probably mid-record ballad “Glide”, a starry, jangly tune whose lo-fi sheen doesn’t dampen its wistful beauty. It’s a highlight from a rewarding record that suggests Adams should step out from behind the kit more often.
“Happy Hour”, The Drolls
From The Drolls/Gentlemen Rogues Split (2024, Snappy Little Numbers)
I’d heard of Austin’s Gentlemen Rogues before listening to their split single with Seattle’s The Drolls, but it was the new-to-me band who really impressed me with their two tracks on the record. A trio featuring Julie D from Guest Directors and Chinchilla and Denny Bartlett and Josh Rubin from Sicko, this split follows an LP in 2022 and a 7” in 2023. “Happy Hour” is a two-minute power-pop-punk anthem that’s over before one knows it, but not before bashing out a multitude of pop hooks and all-hopped-up energy along the way. Their other track, “Burned Out”, is a bit more of a traditional power pop tune (and it’s quite good at it, too), but the sugar rush/pogo-bait of “Happy Hour” is the one that really hooked me.
“The President’s Colonoscopy”, Adam Finchler
From The Room (2024, Window Sill)
“You are the president, I’m your colonoscope / We show the people how to take good care / I am swimming in your bile, I’ll be here for awhile / Just looking for the polyp in the world”. Swear to god, this song is really, really good. The Room, the first solo record from Adam Finchler in a dozen years, is irreverent, wide-ranging, and fairly unpredictable–it’s one of the most striking and unique-sounding albums I’ve heard this year. I’ve come to accept that the penultimate song on the album, “The President’s Colonoscopy”, actually might be my favorite one on the record, somehow. The schmaltzy keyboard (both in terms of tone and playing style) fits the “public service announcement” nature of the track. I don’t really know why and how it all works, but somehow when the band joins Finchler as he reaches that final stanza, it’s oddly cathartic. Read more about The Room here.
“I Want a Life”, Mid-Range Jumper
(2024)
Once again, Rosy Overdrive finds itself in the relatively rare position of writing about a band’s debut single. This time around, it’s Austin, Texas’ Mid-Range Jumper, a trio of singer-songwriters (Andrés Garcia, Jonah Brown, and Paulo Zambarano) who’ve previously played in bands like Quiet Light, sleep well., and Eli Josef. Although I’m not really familiar with any of their previous work, the first song from Mid-Range Jumper places the trio in the world of fuzzed-up alt-country. “I Want a Life” has a little bit of emo-adjacent earnestness to it, like if Conor Oberst was from Texas, and the song’s rich, mid-tempo verses are just dynamic enough that the chorus can get away with doing little more than repeating the title line longingly. It’s a good start!
“Tortilla Chip Bag Song”, Pacing
(2024)
There’s that cliche that people say about singers: “I could listen to them sing the phone book”. I’d say that if this applies to anybody singing these days, it’d be Pacing’s Katie McTeague. When people say that, they mean that the vocalist in question has a really great singing voice, which is certainly true for McTeague, but when I say it, it’s more like “she’d somehow find the most interesting and compelling part of the phone book to sing and have us all on the edges of our seats while singing about various plumbers and electricians”. Anyway, this song is called “Tortilla Chip Bag Song”, and its lyrics are the back of a bag of Las Fortunitas Tortilla Chips. In Pacing’s hands, the bag’s spiel is turned into a peppy, minimal folk-pop hit single, McTeague gamely explaining to us how to microwave chips taken from the freezer (“where they maintain their freshness and flavor indefinitely”) and reminding us to reseal the bag “each time [we] enjoy the chips”. Maybe we’re not supposed to dissect writing like this, so I don’t know if the Las Fortunitas Tortilla Chips bag has an especially memorable essay attached to it, but “Tortilla Chip Bag Song” certainly makes it feel like it.
“Prove Me Wrong”, Jimrat
From Jimrat (2024, Who Is)
I don’t know who Jimrat is. I heard about them through an incomprehensible email that sent me to an even more incomprehensible website (Are these photos of the band? No one can say for sure). They seem to be from Boston and have put out music through Denizen Records and Who Is Records (which might be their own label). Their latest record is a self-titled three-song EP with shades of lo-fi bedroom pop, nu-shoegaze, and various other experimental, noisy kinds of pop and rock music. My favorite track on Jimrat is “Prove Me Wrong”, an offbeat fuzz-pop song that sounds like it features either two lead vocalists or one doing a vocally-manipulated duet with themself. Either way, “Prove Me Wrong” is hypnotic and transfixing to me, so I’ll do my best to try to follow whatever Jimrat is.
“Yr Well”, Manners Manners
From I Held Their Eyes, I Kissed Them All (2024, 20/20)
I Held Their Eyes, I Kissed Them All, the debut album from Baltimore’s Manners Manners, is the work of indie rock veterans who are still wide-eyed pop believers. The vocals on single and highlight “Yr Well” stay on top of the backing music, but the roaring, dramatic indie rock of that song is the closest that Manners Manners come to crashing onshore–aided by three members of the band $100 Girlfriend on guitar, synthesizer, and vocals, the band thunders through an overwhelming instrumental that only grows and grows. Nonetheless, the chorus comes through clearly: “I have been to your well, and it only flows backwards, upside-down, and to itself”. With the gale force winds of the music behind it, the song’s central rebuke is made all the more strong by its intangibility and opacity. Read more about I Held Their Eyes, I Kissed Them All here.
“Waiting for the Lizard”, Glass-Beagle
From Spring Sword Chatter (2024, G-B, Inc.)
Spring Sword Chatter is the debut EP from Glass-Beagle, a Chicago group led by vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Nathan Zurawski and also featuring drummer Mark Burjek, pedal steel player Michael Conway, and guitarist Jack Tekiela. Judging from their first record, Glass-Beagle’s sound can concisely be described as “folk-y alt-country psychedelic fuzz rock”, or something to that effect. Mainly what I know is that my favorite song on the record, “Waiting for the Lizard”, sounds fantastic. The song kicks off with a nice, big electric guitar riff, but it’s not so overwhelming that Conway’s pedal steel and Zurawski’s understated vocals aren’t able to get their moments in the spotlight, too. Glass-Beagle shamble triumphantly through “Waiting for the Lizard”, the first great song from a band I hope to hear more from.
“Handlebars”, Fuvk
From What Is the Purpose of Your Visit? (2024, Start-track)
It’s been a minute since I checked in on Austin’s Shirley Zhu and her project Fuvk, but she’s remained busy ever since I named Goodnight, Moon one of my favorite EPs of 2022. Just this year alone, she’s put out two EPs–the latter of which, What Is the Purpose of Your Visit?, is from where “Handlebars” comes. I would imagine that the title of the EP, its Bandcamp description (“corner taken quickly 2024”), and the opening lyrics of “Handlebars” ( “25’s off to a great start / Flipping over your handlebars / Sat with you in the ER”) are all related. At the very least, misfortune has led to another classic piece of folk-tinged indie pop/bedroom pop from Fuvk–Zhu hits a lot of her benchmarks (upfront, frank but melodic speak-singing, acoustic guitars melded seamlessly with electronic elements) in about eighty seconds, leading off another humble but welcome entry into the ever-expanding Fuvk discography.
“Evening Drive”, Bacchae
From Next Time (2024, Get Better)
On their second LP, Washington, D.C. punk band Bacchae more smoothly mesh together their post-punk, punk, and pop instincts together for frequently cathartic results. “Evening Drive”, a highlight of the second half of Next Time, is Bacchae’s version of a car song–it’s pop-friendly, with a propulsive beat and exciting guitar soloing, yes, but vocalist Katie McD (who’s spent the majority of Next Time balancing on the edge of nervousness and droll disdain) is still throwing out harrowing descriptions of sharks in the water and other isolation-evoking images. “Hey, maybe / We’ll wait and see / Delay the end / We’ll bide our time,” sings McD in the chorus. Combined with the backing music, the whole ordeal feels great–but then again, so does hitting the slots one more time. Read more about Next Time here.
“Down at the Casino”, Pat’s Alternative Bus Tour
From Virtual Virgins (2024)
Glasgow’s Andrew Paterson is a guitar pop veteran, and Virtual Virgins hardly disappoints on this front–the songs are based around breezy, acoustic, C86-influenced indie pop foundations and its leader’s conversational, heavily-Scottish-accented vocals. Paterson’s knack for storytelling and character-building helps the record stand out in a crowded scene, an aptitude that shines on “Down at the Casino”, one of the most polished pop moments on Virtual Virgins. The mid-record highlight is a song as deceptively bright and cheery as the machinery about which Paterson sings–“If it makes you feel better, we’re no longer enjoying ourselves”, he says, as the characters populating the song relinquish their savings to slots and online gambling apps. Read more about Virtual Virgins here.
“Heart Can’t Feel”, Castle Black
From The Highway at Night (2024)
It’s a good idea to stick with a record from beginning to end even if it isn’t grabbing you. Castle Black’s The Highway at Night wasn’t doing much for me, but because I let it play through, I got to the record’s final track, “Heart Can’t Feel”, which distills the band’s sound into a sharp power pop-new wave-punk package that works very well. After trying on a few different costumes on The Highway at Night, the New York duo of Leigh Celent and Joey Russo pull off a sharp, energetic closing track that wastes not a second of its three-minute runtime (from the in-the-thick-of-it opening lyric to the sharp rein-pulling of its closing).
Rosy Overdrive 