Well, I hope everyone in the United States had a wonderful Labor Day Weekend (and to those outside of it, I hope you had a nice one, too). I’m sorry I didn’t have the Rosy Overdrive August 2024 playlist ready for you to blast with your relatives and friends as you enjoyed the nice or bad weather, but it’s here now to soundtrack the rest of your week! And it’s a great one, featuring a bunch of great new music.
Supermilk, Jr. Juggernaut, and Hell Beach have two songs on this playlist each.
Here is where you can listen to the playlist on various streaming services: Spotify, Tidal, BNDCMPR. 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.
“Come Break My Heart”, Jr. Juggernaut
From Another Big Explosion (2024, Mindpower/Nickel Eye)
Jr. Juggernau are a Los Angeles-based alt-rock/power-punk trio who’ve clearly worn out their CDs of Sugar’s Copper Blue. There’s nothing on Another Big Explosion that could be described as “slacker” or halfhearted, from Mike Williamson’s 110% all-the-time vocals to the Modern Rock Radio-ready hooks to the cranked-up, heavy-duty alt-rock sheen of the music. There’s a Bob Mouldian “pop music as endurance test” element to Another Big Explosion–the ten songs are almost all in the four-to-five minute range, and they’re roaring at full blast pretty much the entire time. It’s a key ingredient in making the album feel like a towering mountain, but Jr. Juggernaut summit it nonetheless, from the triumphant yet chilly all-in opening of “Come Break My Heart” onwards. Read more about Another Big Explosion here.
“First Time”, Oceanator
From Everything Is Love and Death (2024, Polyvinyl)
I really liked Oceanator’s sophomore album, 2022’s Nothing’s Ever Fine, even as it emphasized the moody and insular sides of bandleader Elise Okusami’s writing. Their follow-up, the Will Yip-produced Everything Is Love and Death, lets loose with a distinct but fiery mix of emo, power pop, and even grunge-y 90s alt-rock. Opening track “First Time” pulls no punches–Okusami’s occasional tendency to favor big, bursting chord progressions pays off big time here, as the band pound through an undeniably huge power pop starting blast that should get everyone’s full attention trained on Everything Is Love and Death. Read more about Everything Is Love and Death here.
“The Arrival of the Graf Zeppelin”, The Ekphrastics
From Make Your Own Snowboard (2024, Harriet)
“Always remember where you were on this date / October 16th, 1928 / The arrival of the Graf Zeppelin”. With only a passing familiarity with longtime indie pop musician Frank Boscoe’s previous work, I was immediately drawn in by his latest album as leader of The Ekphrastics, a fantastic exercise in storytelling with laid-back, folk-y indie pop as the fruitful vessel. “The Arrival of the Graf Zeppelin” is the perfect distillation of Boscoe’s writing on Make Your Own Snowboard–musically, it’s smart and catchy (I hear a bit of Lou Reed in this one), and lyrically it shines a light on Boscoe’s greatest strength. That is, he’d rather pull out semi-lost artifacts from history to meditate upon than lean on what we already know and understand to be common reference points–and it works because of his sincere, unpretentious approach to it all. Read more about Make Your Own Snowboard here.
“Oops!”, Little Hag
From Now That’s What I Call Little Hag (2024, Bar None)
Just a superb pop song, this one. New Jersey’s Little Hag (a five-piece led by singer-songwriter Avery Mandeville) has been around since the late 2010s, and their third album, Now That’s What I Call Little Hag, suggests that they can pull off several different styles of indie rock and pop–but “Oops!” hooked me in a way that their previous work hadn’t. How could it not grab me, with lyrics like “If I don’t get attention things are gonna get ugly / Look at me and love me and then don’t ever look back”? Mandeville gives this song the whirlwind of a performance that it deserves, staring dead-eyed through the song’s frenetic, warped pop-rock with gale force winds swirling around the eye of the storm (“I wanted to feel something / Oops, all nothing”). My attention is firmly fixed on Little Hag–although, from the sounds of it, things have already gotten pretty ugly.
“Poison Mind”, Hell Beach
From BEACHWORLD (2024, Uncle Style/Bad Time)
Dan Gorman of The Discover Tab was hyping this one up–er, sorry, I mean I found this album completely on my own and loved it. I associate Bad Time Records with ska punk, but Hell Beach’s BEACHWORLD is all snotty, hooky, golden-age pop punk from none other than Manchester, New Hampshire. This is one of the albums where I could’ve thrown a dart and hit a song good enough to be on this playlist, but the one that drew me in–“Poison Mind”–was the one I went with (well, the first one, at least–read on!) this time. “Poison Mind” isn’t the quickest song on BEACHWORLD, but it more than makes up for it with a nonstop power pop hook parade delivered with a punk-fluent flair. It’s a winning song about being fucked up, but at least it’s honest about it (“I’d like to attribute this to drugs that I did in high school / It’s not true”).
“Robot Talk”, Supermilk
From High Precision Ghosts (2024, Specialist Subject)
Jake Popyura has been leading Supermilk for a while now (since 2017, and really kicking into gear when his old band, Doe, broke up at the end of last decade), but it’s the London band’s third album, High Precision Ghosts, that has found the quartet truly making themselves known as a contender for the best band whose name starts with “Super-” currently going. Supermilk has morphed from a solo project to a proper band, and it’s the contributions of Em Foster, Charlie Jamison, and Jason Cavalier that really take “Robot Talk” to the next level. Rich Mandell of ME REX and Happy Accidents pops up on keys on this one, but his work as a producer on the album might be more key–despite being clearly the work of a raw and kickass rock band, the metallic sheen, tight rhythms, and Popyura’s stuttering vocals all contribute to the offbeat vibe worthy of a song with “robot” in its title.
“Kick in the Shin”, Edie McKenna
From For Edie (2024, Devil Town Tapes)
“Kick in the Shin” was Edie McKenna’s first solo single, originally released last year and reappearing on her debut EP For Edie in “remastered” form–and it’s a hurricane of a first impression. Musically, the lethal pop chord progression and alt-country bent make it reminiscent of her band, Modern Nun, but the incredibly blunt and personal lyrics, excoriating a terrible parental figure (“For what it’s worth, I think your pictures looked like shit / And you charged way too much for it”), certainly help make it an “Edie McKenna song” (I don’t know how to say this delicately, but if I ever fucked up so badly that somebody wrote something like the chorus of “Kick in the Shin” about me, I don’t think I’d be able to continue on as a person). Read more about For Edie here.
“Enemy”, Chandelier
From Chandelier (2024)
The instrumentals on Chandelier’s self-titled debut are crystal clear, mid-tempo post-punk/noise rock, while vocalist Karl Green is an underground punk oddball in the vein of Al Johnson or Daniel Higgs who sing-speaks rhythmically, form-fitting himself to the rest of the band. The most surprising moment on Chandelier is easily “Enemy”, in which the group pull off a legitimate dance-punk song by shifting their sound up just a little bit. In the song’s chorus, Green stutters his way through declaring war on time, an explicit proclamation borne out by the rest of Chandelier, a record that suggests infinite diverging possibilities in its practice of imperfect, slightly-altered repetition. Read more about Chandelier here.
“Lace Monitor”, Dominic Angelella
From God Loves a Scammer (2024, Dumb Solitaire)
God Loves a Scammer, the fifth LP from Philadelphia fixture Dominic Angelella, is a refreshingly timeless-sounding record, one that balances a predilection for offbeat, attention-grabbing songwriting from its frontperson with a casual, laid-back vibe from its players (who’ve played with everyone from Boygenius to Illuminati Hotties). One of my favorite songs on the album is “Lace Monitor”, which keeps things deceptively simple as it sketches a path to suave, steady insanity in the lyrics. For me personally, I’m always happy to hear large lizards mentioned in music, and Angelella plays around with the word “monitor” while singing about recharging one’s cold blood and surveillance. Read more about God Loves a Scammer here.
“I’m Gonna Sleep”, Spiral Island
From Evacuation’s Out (2024)
I really like this song about skipping out on a friend’s show to get a good night’s sleep. Not that I relate to it personally or anything. Anyway, Madison, Wisconsin’s Nick Davies plays in Gentle Brontosaurus with Huan-Hua Chye of Miscellaneous Owl and also makes music on his own as Spiral Island. Evacuation’s Out appears to be the third Spiral Island LP, and it’s an intriguing listen–the project seems to be where Davies can explore more dance and electronic influences, and it pays off when he combines them with power pop in “I’m Gonna Sleep”. There’s plenty of bad Autotuned pop punk in the world, but “I’m Gonna Sleep” is the furthest thing from it–as infectious as it is, I’m convinced I would love it even if it didn’t contain lines like “I’m gonna sleep and it’s gonna be / The highlight of my week” and another one about not wanting to feel “jetlagged without a vacation”.
“Desperate Days”, Chime School
From The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel (2024, Slumberland)
The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel is only really “mellow” compared to the last Chime School album‘s nonstop jolt of jangle pop electricity, but it does nonetheless find a few moments of musical subtlety in the midst of its jangling barrage. Some of the deepest moments on The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel are in the middle of the shiniest pop songs–the best one on the album, “Desperate Days”, marries pep with sole member Andy Pastalaniec’s whip-smart social commentary, walking the streets of San Francisco all-too-vividly aware of what’s going on around him (“All the color’s gone away / From streets of houses painted gray / Cuz that’s what the markets say / In a couple of years they’ll wash away”). Read more about The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel here.
“California Highway 99”, The Softies
From The Bed I Made (2024, Lost Sound Tapes/Father/Daughter)
The Bed I Made is a reminder of why The Softies specifically have endured, even as their music is deliberately less immediate than most of Rose Melberg and Jen Sbragia’s other projects. When the duo sing together and play the guitars together, they don’t need any additional accompaniment–these songs don’t seek the spotlight, but neither do they shrink from the light shone upon them. As always, “pop music” supports The Softies through these moments–just listen to “California Highway 99”, which is probably the most musically “immediate” song on the record. While Melberg and Sbragia lean into the minimalism elsewhere on the album, this immortal car-as-escape song is one that makes us question just how The Softies can do so much with just guitars and vocals. Read more about The Bed I Made here.
“The Weaver”, Norm Archer
From Verb (2024, Panda Koala)
Everything great about Norm Archer (the mostly-solo project of Portsmouth, England’s Will Pearce) appears on Verb–huge power pop anthems, Guided by Voices-esque arena pop rock, relaxed, 60s-esque jangly guitar pop, and multi-part prog-pop workouts all abound. Those who are looking for the latter should dive into the album’s twin ten-minute closing tracks, but the instant-gratification side of Verb fits a bit better on this playlist. “The Weaver” is one such song, a piece of no-holds-barred power pop candy that’s aggressively catchy in its backing “whoooos”, Pearce’s dramatic vocal take, and of course a ton of melodic guitars. Read more about Verb here.
“Dylan Goes Electric”, Biz Turkey
From Biz Turkey (2024, Third Uncle)
If you like the less jammy side of Built to Spill and the more guitar-based music of Grandaddy, I’ve got great news for you with regards to what Biz Turkey sounds like. Biz Turkey captures the moment where the basement indie rock of the 90s started transforming into something larger and more aware of the concept of “the outdoors”. Vocalist Graham Wood sounds lost but still alert in the midst of these wandering instrumentals–every musician on any given track sounds like they’re following something different, but they’re all so in tune with each other that the puzzle pieces fit nonetheless. “Dylan Goes Electric” is a compelling first song–it captures pretty much everything I mentioned earlier, and together it gives the feeling that we’ve just stepped aboard a sinking ship. Read more about Biz Turkey here.
“County Lines”, Share
From Have One (2024, Forged Artifacts)
Share is a new band made up of three Bay Area indie rock veterans, giving Jeff Day, Peter Kegler, and Dylan Allard a place to bring all their ideas to the table as “creative equals”. The three-headed composition is perhaps why Have One is such an odd-sounding record–it’s a repository for all sorts of rock and roll explorations, from garage rock to post-punk to psychedelic alt-country. “County Lines”, as one might be able to gather from its title, is on the country rock side of the spectrum, but it’s quite purposeful in its twang–it’s a piece of four-point-five-minute windows-down ecstasy that pulls together enough “power pop” for the entire record. Read more about Have One here.
“Sick Sweet”, Wishy
From Triple Seven (2024, Winspear)
Even as Wishy embrace louder guitars and longer song lengths on their first full length, it’s somehow even more of an effective pop record than last year’s debut EP, Paradise. Any trepidation about Wishy’s continued success one might have is immediately put to rest by Triple Seven’s opening track “Sick Sweet”, in which the band absolutely knock “maximalist first statement” out of the park. It’s one part distorted, punk-y power pop (this is a band that’s played shows with Dazy and Guided by Voices recently, after all), but there’s a huge Mellon Collie-like grandiosity to the track as well (there’s just a hint of “Tonight, Tonight”-like swelling strings underneath the noise, and one needs a Corganesque confidence to sing “You’re like an afterlife and I really wanna die tonight,” as a chorus like co-bandleader Kevin Krauter does). Read more about Triple Seven here.
“Pink Smoke”, Quivers
From Oyster Cuts (2024, Merge)
On their third album of original material, Melbourne’s Quivers are dogged pursuers of perfect guitar pop–their mix of college rock, C86, power pop, and new wave is as shined up and sparkly in its presentation as Sam Nicholson and Bella Quinlan’s vocals are intimate and distinct. Oyster Cuts stubbornly declines to embrace anonymity–it doesn’t hide the fact that it was made by Australian lifers who love The Chills and Pavement, nor does it stop at that surface-level descriptor. Early highlight “Pink Smoke” recalls the more low-key, laid-back side of Aussie guitar pop, but when Quivers sing “People go together ‘til they’re intertwined” as a unit, it feels huge and ambitious nonetheless. Read more about Oyster Cuts here.
“I Can’t Make You”, Sailor Down
From Maybe We Should Call It a Night (2024, Relief Map)
Sailor Down’s second EP, Maybe We Should Call It a Night, is its first as a proper quartet, and it’s pleasing to hear that the group already have a distinct sound down as a unit on the record. The EP’s six songs pull together 90s Midwest emo, no-frills indie rock, and the more melancholic sides of twee and indie pop for a nostalgic, accessible, but hardly surface-level record. “I Can’t Make You” kicks off this era of Sailor Down with emo-y indie rock’s version of a pop anthem–Chloe Deeley’s vocals (joined by bassist Kevin McGrath and guitarist Ben Husk’s, too) hug a simple pop melody and lean heavily into earnestness, and the chorus sounds on the brink of falling apart in the best way possible. It’s hardly the mightiest moment on Maybe We Should Call It a Night, but I would argue its 90s-indie-rock looseness is a large part of its appeal. Read more about Maybe We Should Call It a Night here.
“Clowning Around”, Energy Slime
From Planet Perfect (2024, We Are Time)
To some degree, Planet Perfect sounds like giving a couple of 80s pop wizards the keys to the recording studio and letting them cook–with the lack of excess or obviously dated production choices being the primary timestamp suggesting otherwise. Jay Arner and Jessica Delisle are offbeat (psychedelia, prog-rock, and synth-funk shade these ten songs) but never not “pop’, leading to a a home-recorded synthpop album that isn’t at all constrained by the circumstances of its creation, doling out maximalist yet streamlined arrangements with a steady but playful hand. The synth-led power pop of “Clowning Around” combines that robotic main riff with propulsive verses and an almost prog-pop chorus–it shouldn’t be on paper, but it’s one of the most immediately accessible songs on Planet Perfect. Read more about Planet Perfect here.
“All of My Love”, Oso Oso
From Life Till Bones (2024, Yunahon)
Oh, wow, the new Oso Oso album is very sugary. Not that I’ve got a problem with that–I’m happy enough that Jade Lilitri and crew (on this record, Eddy Rodriguez, Jordan Krimston, and Billy Mannino) are back just two years after the sneakily brilliant Sore Thumb, and while Life Till Bones might not top that album, it’s quite good for what it is. And what it is is Oso Oso completing the emo-to-power-pop transformation (just like likeminded Long Island group Macseal just did), pulling off gleeful pop rock treasure troves like “All of My Love” with no strings attached. There’s handclaps, soaring guitars, lyrics about love–you’d be forgiven for missing what the song’s actually about (“I’m not trying to say that a moment can’t survive / But I can’t give you all of my love all of my life”) in the barrage.
“Sweat”, Supermilk
From High Precision Ghosts (2024, Specialist Subject)
Most of the lyrics of “Sweat” by Supermilk are just the line “Sweat gets in my eyes” repeated over and over again. Hearing Jake Popyura give everything he’s got to that single line so many times over top of a soaring, high-flying British rock-and-roll instrumental starts to become meditative, hymn-like after a while. It’s a three-minute tune, and it’s not until nearly two minutes into it that Popyura offers up a couple of other lines: “Onomatopoeia / Living off the fear / Sleeping at the wheel / Is it everything you’ve asked for?” Supermilk aren’t really a “post-punk” band, but it’s hard to describe the groove of “Sweat” as anything else as it careens into this differently-worded bridge. And then the sweat gets in his eyes again. Sweat gets in my eyes. Sweat gets in my eyes. Gets in my, gets in my.
“Hammer of My Own”, Closebye
From Hammer of My Own (2024)
Produced by bandmember Ian Salazar, Hammer of My Own introduces a clear early-90s alt-dance-pop influence into New York indie folk quintet Closebye’s sound, but it’s not a departure from their previous style so much as an addition. If anything, the band are even more committed to making wistful, acoustic-guitar-based folk-and-soft rock on their sophomore album, too. The record’s title track, coming near the end of the record, is one of the brightest and most immediate examples of Closebye’s new sound–it’s an incredibly bright, maximalist cloud-breaking art-pop anthem with more than a bit of mid-90s, psych-dance “oasis pop” in it, but not so wild that its relatively humble verses don’t fit alongside the folkier moments on Hammer of My Own. Read more about Hammer of My Own here.
“Gory Days”, Hell Beach
From BEACHWORLD (2024, Uncle Style)
The line between this one and “The Fool” was so thin for the second Hell Beach song on this playlist, but I think it was the delivery of “2000 Dodge Avenger” in the first verse that got “Gory Days” the nod. Every bit as catchy as “Poison Mind”, with a truly accursed subject matter–being a teenager. It’s just as honest as “Poison Mind”, too–“It was no fun / Being young sucked” goes the refrain, and the verses provide examples by dint of crashing the aforementioned Dodge Avenger into an electric generator and getting “the living shit” kicked out of one’s self by a football player. Also, this is not really relevant to this song, but I really get a kick out of a band from New Hampshire riding the “beach” motif like Hell Beach seem to be doing. I’ve never been up there, but is “hell beach” really an accurate phrase for what goes on on its eighteen-mile shoreline?
“Ponies”, Fake Fruit
From Mucho Mistrust (2024, Carpark)
If you liked the garage-y take on post-punk revival of Fake Fruit’s 2021 self-titled debut album, there’s plenty of that to go around on the Oakland group’s follow-up, Mucho Mistrust. However, my favorite moments on this record come near its end–specifically, the final four tracks, where Fake Fruit take a step out of their comfort zone and try some different styles of indie rock and indie pop. “Ponies” is a bittersweet-sounding guitar pop tune–it sounds vaguely Australian to me, I’m not sure why. It’s an almost-sleepy song at first, drifting in and out of some thoughts about betting at the racetrack, but eventually launches into a fuzz-rock chorus (but Hannah D’Amato’s vocals still sound weary, dragging the melodies out).
“All You See Is Weather”, Fast Execution
From Menses Music (2024, Dandy Boy)
From the title on down, it’s not hard to gather that Oakland’s Fast Execution are drawing from classic riot grrl on their debut record Menses Music, although it’s firmly on the more polished and tuneful side of the subgenre–the trio make their brief but memorable first impression to the tune of garage rock, power pop, and West Coast pop punk. The second song on the record, “All You See Is Weather”, is incredibly catchy in a casual way–its hook is a distorted but quite pleasing guitar riff, suggesting a lighter version of the proto-grunge surf punk of one of their biggest stated influences, Wipers. Read more about Menses Music here.
“Dismantler”, Tulpa
From Dismantler (2024)
I’m not entirely sure how Dismantler, the debut EP from Leeds’ Tulpa, got on my radar. Looks like they’ve played shows with some bands I like (Lightheaded, 2nd Grade), and the token British member of the Rosy Overdrive Discord seems to have sung their praises–whatever it was, this is a very strong indie pop record. I could’ve gone with just about any of the EP’s six songs, but in the end the opening title track is too good to pass up. It eschews some of the noisier, almost shoegaze-y aspects of some of the later songs and locks into a slick, polished power pop groove–the vocalist (I don’t know their name, sorry) is key to the dreamy guitar pop track’s success, sounding like a more twee/indie pop Neko Case (so like early Neko Case, I guess, but more dream pop) in the song’s huge chorus.
“Another Space-Time”, Ferri-Chrome
From Under This Cherry Tree (2024)
Another quite good guitar pop band that wasn’t on my radar until now is Ferri-Chrome, a jangly/dreamy quartet from Tokyo who’ve put out three records (two LPs and and EP) since 2020. Their sophomore album, Under This Cherry Tree, really hits the sweet spot, with a singular melancholy underlining their writing as they move through power pop, dream pop, and alt-rock with undeniable skill. It’s probably not surprising that my favorite song on the album, “Another Space-Time”, is the song that leans into jangly guitars more than the rest of the record–the melodic guitar parts come out the door swinging, although the distortion and sweet but forceful vocals eventually rise to carry the song alongside them.
“Red Flowers”, Lindsay Reamer
From Natural Science (2024, Dear Life)
The lineup on Lindsay Reamer’s debut album, Natural Science, is a real who’s who of Philadelphia indie rock/country/folk, featuring members of Friendship, Hour, Ther, 2nd Grade, Thank You Thank You, and Florry, among others. Reamer, at the helm, leads her collaborators through an impressively-orchestrated, polished record that takes advantage of the tools at its disposal but still comes off as breezy and pop-forward. It’s one of the most “instant-gratification” alt-country records to come out of Dear Life Records in a while–but Reamer isn’t put into a box by that at all, gleefully hopping from upbeat country rock to dreamy, layered folk music throughout Natural Science. Early highlight “Red Flowers” feigns a slow start before launching into a jaunty but laid-back electric country tune, streamlined but substantial. Read more about Natural Science here.
“Re-Materialize”, Google Earth
From Street View (2024, Tiny Telephone)
I’m always happy to drop in and see what John Vanderslice is up to these days, even if it’s not always “my thing”. His latest project is called Google Earth, and their debut record (named Street View because of course it is) is an intriguing collaboration between Vanderslice and James Riotto (and Vanderslice’s wife, Maria, who wrote half of the album’s lyrics, with Riotto contributing the rest). Street View balances the truly wild electronic stuff Vanderslice has been into lately with a low-key pop side, and the minimal synth-ish pop-ish ballad “Re-Materialize” is my favorite thing he’s been involved with in a while. Even though he didn’t write the lyrics, the subject matter (about “standing on the brink”, described in fairly vivid detail) is in line with Vanderslice’s recent work, and the vocals, which go from casually spoke-sung to a sweeping chorus, recall his more formative records.
“Everything I Touch”, Jr. Juggernaut
From Another Big Explosion (2024, Mindpower/Nickel Eye)
“Everything I Touch” was the lead single from Another Big Explosion, and while I think the entire record is overflowing with brilliant pop hooks, I do see why this one got the nod. Jr. Juggernaut train their cranked-out, power pop overdrive into the form of a beastly alt-rock could’ve-been-hit here. It packs a punch musically, of course, but it also benefits from the record’s secret weapon–that is, Williamson being able to tap into something primal and emotional to match the strength of the instrumentals. “Everything I touch turns black and blue,” is both constructed and delivered with the heft to match Jr. Juggernaut, the rock anthem machine, and is a perfect ambassador for Another Big Explosion, a record that would’ve been worth fishing out of the bargain bin thirty years ago and worth taking in as a whole now. Read more about Another Big Explosion here.
“Never Better”, Pretty Bitter
From Take Me Out (2024)
Pretty Bitter and Flowerbomb are a pair of like-minded Washington, D.C.-based indie rock groups–both of them have a sound that blends the more stripped-down side of “stately” 2000s indie rock with emo and just a hint of indie pop/power pop/pop punk. They’re natural partners for a collaborative/split EP (featuring two songs from each band and one credited to the both of them), and emo busybody Evan Weiss is a just-as-natural choice for co-producer. Pretty Bitter kick off Take Me Out with an instant hit in “Never Better”, an earnest, propulsive song whose gigantic emo-synth hook from Zack Berman hints at a way to tell the two bands apart (although Flowerbomb, perhaps emboldened by Pretty Bitter, try their own hand at synthesizers later with “I Always Knew”). Read more about Take Me Out here.
“Trapped in a Parking Garage”, Citric Dummies
From Trapped in a Parking Garage (2024, Feel It/Saalepower 2)
Bad news, everyone–the Citric Dummies are Trapped in a Parking Garage. Just a few months after the Minneapolis garage punks bravely took on their hometown heroes in Zen and the Arcade of Beating Your Ass, they’re back with another record, this time a four-song 7” assault that continues their steamrolling balance of raw rock aggression and an irreverent, charmingly goofy side. “I can’t be saved / I can’t go home” howls whichever Citric Dummy is on the mic, running around their concrete prison as the paranoia festers and grows over the song’s minute-forty-five runtime. Pay no attention to the frothing man with the giant orange cone, don’t make eye contact…
“Emotional Disguise”, Lesibu Grand
From Triggered (2024, Kill Rock Stars)
You can call Atlanta’s Lesibu Grand a “punk band”, and sonically and attitude-wise you wouldn’t be wrong, but it’s hardly an orthodox exercise in the genre with its equal love of new wave, power pop, and indie pop. There are plenty of punk throwbacks on Triggered, but I find myself being drawn to the other tenets of Lesibu Grand’s sound, where they get a bit subtler and less in-your-face. The melancholic, jangly indie pop of “Emotional Disguise” is one of the strongest moments on the entire record, even as one might need to be paying attention to catch it in between “showier” moments. It’s a K/Sarah Records-type song from a modern Kill Rock Stars band, and I’m here for it–some of Lesibu Grand’s best work is done on the periphery of their sound. Read more about Triggered here.
“Lonely Hearts Killers”, Greaser Phase
From Greaser Phase (2024, Shambotic)
On Greaser Phase, the New York band’s core duo (vocalist Jonny Couch and bassist/guitarist Benny Imbriani, assisted by Kevin Shea on drums) barrel through ten electric power pop songs in twenty-nine minutes, and the group’s barebones instrumental setup doesn’t stop Greaser Phase from incorporating early punk rock, mod, 60s pop rock, and even rockabilly into their pop music. There’s a certain pleasing immediacy to the record’s opening few songs that will undoubtedly particularly appeal to those of us who like their guitar pop short, strong, and sweet, particularly the first track–“Lonely Hearts Killers” is a brilliant opener, a power pop propeller in love with rock both classic and punk in a way that recalls the more bite-sized moments of Ted Leo and the Pharmacists. Read more about Greaser Phase here.
“Face in the Moon”, X
From Smoke & Fiction (2024, Fat Possum)
I generally take band break-ups, especially ones packaged with a “final” album and tour, with a grain of salt, but it would make sense for X to bow out right about now. They aren’t getting any younger, and they’ve had a well-earned victory lap that actually added to their legacy in the form of a couple records that really did capture what the band had going during their classic era. It might be a bit early to lump Smoke & Fiction in with 2020’s Alphabetland in that department, but it sounds pretty good so far, both in terms of “X, the all-time punk rock group” and in terms of songs like “Face in the Moon”, where they slow it down and make a good case for themselves as the quintessential American rock band–no “punk” qualifier needed.
“Outlive You” (Steve Albini Mix), Friendship Commanders
From BILL (The Steve Albini Mixes) (2024, Trimming the Shield)
BILL was tracked live to tape by Steve Albini in late 2017 and eventually mixed by Friendship Commanders’ Jerry Roe, but the band held onto Albini’s original mixes and planned to release them at some point–Albini’s sudden and unexpected death became the impetus for the mixes to finally see the light of day. On BILL, Albini captured the moment in between the loose punk rock of Friendship Commanders’ debut and the heavy stoner rock they’d go on to make–these songs rush by in a blur, whirlwinds of crushing rhythm sections, loud guitars, and Buick Audra’s commanding, centered vocals. The punk-powered “Outlive You” sticks around just long enough to sear an impression into one’s brain–there’s a pop sensibility in its refrain, neither outshining nor being swallowed up by the instrumental might found elsewhere in the track. Read more about BILL (The Steve Albini Mixes) here.
“Pemulwuy”, 2070
From Rabies Shot $5 (2024, Free World Vessel)
Back in May, I wrote about the sophomore album from Los Angeles’ 2070, Stay in the Ranch. It’s a strong collection of fuzzed-out shoegaze and noise pop, so I was pleasantly surprised to see the band put out a second record of 2024, Rabies Shot $5, a mere four months later; even though it’s not a proper follow-up album (“Demos and songs that were left off” of their first two albums, per Bandcamp), there’s still plenty to enjoy here. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Rabies Shot $5 sounds looser and more casual than their noisier, more shoegaze-influenced proper records, letting 2070’s pop songwriting stick out a little more; opening track “Pemulwuy” is their version of 60s garage rock, a somewhat muddy but infectious mix of tambourines and ramshackle melodies.
“Worst Time”, Bats & Mice
From PS: Seriously (2024, Lovitt)
I don’t know too much about Bats & Mice–well, I do know that they’re from Chapel Hill, and that despite having ties to some of the most abrasive underground rock music I know of (Men’s Recovery Project, Rah Bras), their sound is of the more sensitive and arty indie rock variety. PS: Seriously has been in the works since the early 2010s (their last full length album, Believe It Mammals, came out all the way back in 2002), and it’s a bit all over the map sonically. My favorite song on the album is the last one, “Worst Time”, which is a simple melodic ballad with a bit of an edge to it, reminding me of the more tender moments on classic 90s indie rock albums from bands like Pavement and Archers of Loaf. There’s even some swooning synths that kick in as the song draws to a close!
“How Quaint”, Spring Silver
From Don’t You Think It’s Strange? (2024)
Even though it was recorded entirely by Maryland musician K Nkanza alone, Don’t You Think It’s Strange? actually sounds like the most “rock-band-focused” version of their project Spring Silver yet. Still recognizably themself, Nkanza takes on the difficult task of making lengthy (five-to-seven-minute), rumbling, but still pop-focused rock songs on Don’t You Think It’s Strange?, and sticks the landing right up up to the end of the record. “How Quaint” ends the album with a calamitous, industrial-bubblegum pop anthem that reminds me a bit of the art pop of the last Spring Silver record, but with the grandiosity of Don’t You Think It’s Strange? in tow as well–and to bring it all together, there’s a damaged but palpable emotional core to it, too (“How quaint of the beast / She wishes to be pure / She scrubs her matted fur / And holds herself, unsure”). It’s a good sign for Nkanza that they’ve already covered so much ground while hammering out a distinct style this early in their musical career. Read more about Don’t You Think It’s Strange? here.
Rosy Overdrive 