Alright, it’s a little later than normal, but the Rosy Overdrive September 2024 playlist is here! You’re going to find a ton of great new music on it, trust me–some of it from bands I’ve written about on the blog before, some from new faces, but all quality. That’s the Rosy Overdrive guarantee!
Best Bets, Guidon Bear, Downhaul, and Mister Data have multiple songs on this playlist (two apiece).
Here is where you can listen to the playlist on various streaming services: Spotify, Tidal (each missing a song), BNDCMPR (missing three). 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.
“Pillory Parade”, Best Bets
From The Hollow Husk of Feeling (2024, Meritorio/Melted Ice Cream)
I want to be clear: I fucking love this song. All the threads from Best Bets’ The Hollow Husk of Feeling come to a head here–huge power pop hooks, withering lyrical invective, post-ironic showmanship, pop punk snottiness, garage rock fuzz. “Pillory Parade” hits the sweet spot that maybe only the Teenage Tom Petties are also achieving in 2024. This would’ve killed on 120 Minutes; imagine these Kiwi power-punk-poppers running around accompanied by these apocalyptic lyrics that are just as serious/cutting as you want them to be. If the exhilaration of The Hollow Husk of Feeling feels drawn from frantically attempting to outrun something, the wind at its back for forty minutes blows all the same. Read more about The Hollow Husk of Feeling here.
“TV Screen”, Guidon Bear
From Internal Systems (2024, Antiquated Future)
Olympia indie pop duo Guidon Bear (Mary Water and Pat Maley, both of Little Red Car Wreck) began to incorporate a bit more synth/electronic elements on their 2022 record Unravel, and this side of the band blossoms fully on Internal Systems. The buzzing and chiming synths added by Maley to these songs fit perfectly alongside their guitar-based indie rock sound–it doesn’t reduce Guidon Bear’s “old” style so much as add to it, and it’s no less devoted to enhancing Water’s incredible songwriting. The record’s six-minute opening track “TV Screen” is a half-asleep jumble of images glimpsed on the titular object (as well as one’s phone), fiction and reality blurring much like watching videos on Instagram tends to do, the simple synth backgrounds soundtracking Waters’ train of thought and guitars only showing up on the sparingly-used chorus–it’s maybe the best song I’ve heard all year. Read more about Internal Systems here.
“College Jeopardy”, Upstairs
From Be Seeing You (2024, Obscure Pharaoh)
Upstairs are a quintet of art pop/rock mad scientists from Cincinnati and Chicago who’ve recently put out their excellent sophomore album, Be Seeing You. Their latest record alternatively embraces electronics, strings, and “rock” instrumentation across its dozen tracks, veering into several ditches but also using “pop music” as a jumpscare tactic (in the form of swooning, swelling indie folk rock or relatively humble piano-pop). “College Jeopardy” is the catchiest thing on Be Seeing You to my ears; I just haven’t been able to shake that refrain ever since I’ve heard it. Whichever member of Upstairs is on lead vocals here really gives it their all–it’s not Rosy Overdrive favorite Jon Massey, although I’m fairly certain I hear him joining in on that monster jangly/power pop chorus, and he might be the one mumbling the spoken-word bridge that sounds like Bent Shapes if they liked Stereolab a little too much. Read more about Be Seeing You here.
“Silver Sword”, Ex Pilots
From Motel Cable (2024, Smoking Room)
On Ex Pilots’ Motel Cable, the Pittsburgh sextet do what they do best–kick out fifteen songs and thirty-seven minutes of hook-laden, shoegaze-informed indie rock shot through with a sense of Robert Pollard-esque propulsive melancholy that’s equally present on the loud, punk-y rave-ups and the record’s more pensive moments. There’s plenty of highlights from the fidgety, punchy side of the band, where it seems like the group can’t help from throwing moments of noise and aggression in the middle of perfect guitar pop. The absolutely wild “Silver Sword” is my favorite song in this vein–the guitars seem like they’re just not on the same page as Ethan Oliva’s vocals, but that doesn’t slow the track down at all. It’s a song that makes me want to go crazy and hurt myself and others (yes, I’m proud of that meme, I wasn’t going to pass up another opportunity to use it again). Read more about Motel Cable here.
“Voyeur/Liverwalk”, Wavers
From Wavers (2024, Musical Fanzine)
An excellent debut record from earlier this year that I want to make sure you didn’t miss is the self-titled first cassette EP from Olympia quartet Wavers. In under ten minutes, the four of them (vocalist Rosie, guitarist Josh, bassist Jake, and drummer Charlie) sketch out their sound–a little bit of emo, some 90s indie rock, lo-fi indie pop, and even a bit of punk attitude in between the cracks. The EP’s lead single and my favorite song on the record is “Voyeur/Liverwalk”, which just barely crosses the two-minute mark in order to deliver an unlikely Pacific Northwest guitar pop anthem in its aimless, late-night wandering. The pop music of Wavers is delicate and wobbly but quite powerful regardless of its trappings; I’m eager to hear their debut full-length, which I’ve heard rumors could be out sometime next year. Read more about Wavers here.
“YCBTT”, Downhaul
From How to Begin (2024, Self Aware/Landland Colportage)
My favorite moment on How to Begin, the third album from Richmond rock band Downhaul, comes about a minute into the song “YCBTT”. The entire track is impressive, of course–Andrew Seymour’s skipping drumbeat and Robbie Ludvigsen’s classic rock opening riff are perfect out of the gate, singer Gordon Phillips’ distinctive long-steady-gut-punch is in vintage form, and when he trades off lead vocals with Seymour for a few lines, it’s an inspired, unorthodox decision. The moment I’m thinking of happens after that, though, in what I guess is the pre-chorus–Phillips grinds the song to a halt with a whammy of a realization (“Well I guess I just thought / About you more than you thought about me”) and Seymour answers by beginning a bright, almost cartoon-like percussive roll. Phillips rattles off hyper-specific, esoteric lines that are nonetheless quite evocative (“But the branch cracked like rock candy / And the devil is left-handed / Came down in a panic to / To the place we both were planted”), sidestepping the music without breaking eye contact. It’s emblematic of the slick movie-musical that is How to Begin. Read more about How to Begin here.
“Glad You’re Doing Well”, The Meeks
From People Don’t Talk (2024, The Butter)
This is a brilliant song. The Meeks are a power pop band from Brooklyn or something, whatever–let’s talk about “Glad You’re Doing Well”, a real gem hidden in the second half of their sophomore album People Don’t Talk. As simple as “Glad You’re Doing Well” is in terms of instrumentation, there’s a ton of stuff going on in the song–it starts with the rhythm section tapping along to Michael Donovan’s engrossing vocals, the guitars eventually start trickling in, Donovan hits a Jason Lytle-like quiver with the word “clarify”, and then eventually there’s a big pop chorus, too. And then the song grinds to a start (Donovan hand-waving and chiding “guys, guys, guys”) and does the entire trick again, to no less great effect. It sounds like if The Weakerthans were obsessed with writing the perfect pop song or something (not that Donovan’s lyrics, a scattered relationship-disintegration thing, aren’t great, too).
“Crash”, Hey I’m Outside
From Hey I’m Outside (2024, Archival Workshop)
Although it’s still home-recorded, Hey I’m Outside’s self-titled debut album is the band’s most polished work yet, and the meandering country rock sound hinted at in their earlier EPs blossoms and takes full control on the LP. Both Patrick McPherson as a vocalist and the band as players sound like relaxed storytellers throughout Hey I’m Outside, an earnest but not overly-sentimental mix of folk, country, and rock. The upbeat country-folk of “Crash”, my favorite song on the album, may start with a literal accident, but it shrugs off the mess to run away gleefully to the tune of what I believe is guest musician Timothy McPherson’s dobro. Read more about Hey I’m Outside here.
“Pigsville”, Waco Brothers
From Wacoworld (1999, Bloodshot)
“How did a random Waco Brothers song from 1999 end up on this playlist?” you might ask. Well, blame Ted Leo. I saw him and The Pharmacists play Shake the Sheets in its entirety recently (great album, by the way), and afterwards he covered this song solo with just his electric guitar. I hadn’t heard the song before (I’ve listened to a few Waco Brothers albums in my day, sure, but not this one, I don’t think) and was blown away, and sought out the original version not long after the show. It wasn’t just Leo’s performance–the Wacos’ version is just as great, a brooding but huge-sounding folk-punk-rock anthem that still sounds jaw-dropping to me. The verses are the setup and the chorus the huge payoff–other bands would try to come up with something more than the single line Jon Langford repeats over and over again in the refrain, but that’s where “Pigsville” turns into something wild and immortal.
“Toynbee Tiles”, The Paint Splats
From Amusing Ourselves to Death (2024, Magnaphone)
A power pop song about the Toynbee tiles, huh? Hey, sure, why not. First off, if you’re unfamiliar, it’s a fun Wikipedia rabbit hole do go down, and Dayton, Ohio sextet The Paint Splats use them to make an excellent album closer. I’d recommend listening to Amusing Ourselves to Death in its entirety if “Toynbee Tiles” does it for you, but regardless, this hook-laden tribute to “[riding] the bus to Philadelphia” to “stand on the sacred tile” is a winner. There are a few songs on this playlist about escaping or going on impromptu trips/vacations; perhaps that says something about where I’m at mentally. Either way, Brandon Berry and Rachel Rosen deliver a charming duet about trying to locate a newly-dropped tile and coming away empty-handed. Maybe the real Toynbee tiles were the friends we made along the way?
“Big Wave Surfer”, Slacker Key
(2024)
Regular Rosy Overdrive readers will recognize Portland’s Sam Greenspan as one of the two vocalists in the excellent power pop trio Stoner Control, who’ve released two great records during this blog’s lifespan. Greenspan has a new solo project called Slacker Key, which originated after Greenspan spent two years doing “clinical fieldwork” on the Hawaiian island of Kauai and witnessed the tradition of slack-key guitar. The cleverly-named Slacker Key has two songs out so far, and while I’m not going to pretend that the introduction of slack-key has dramatically shifted Greenspan’s songwriting and playing away from his signature power pop/slacker rock, anything that sparks inspiration for something like “Big Wave Surfer” is a-okay in my book. It’s a charming and none-too-serious exploration of the culture clash implicitly depicted in the project (“I lied when I said I could surf / I lied about being a big wave surfer”).
“Doors Wide Open”, Feeling Figures
From Everything Around You (2024, K/Perennial)
Everything Around You is the second full-length to come from Montreal indie rockers Feeling Figures, but it was actually recorded before their debut release, last year’s Migration Magic. It’s a deeper and more deliberate version of Feeling Figures on this one–the jams are heavier and jammier, the pop songs more polished and poppy, and the garage punk moments come with a bit more of an audible snarl. “Doors Wide Open” is an easy early highlight, bringing vamping indie-pop-punk bounding right through that unobstructed barn gate, the band breathing incredible life into a song that feels like it contains much more than its sub-two-minute runtime ought to allow. Read more about Everything Around You here.
“Master of Time”, Styrofoam Winos
From Real Time (2024, Sophomore Lounge)
On their long-awaited sophomore album, Nashville supergroup Styrofoam Winos don’t sound particularly hurried. It’s not like “laid-back country rock” is new territory for Lou Turner, Trevor Nikrant, and Joe Kenkel, but the way that they do it here–effortlessly passing the torch between the three of them, creating a singular vibe across these ten songs–is a palpable leap. On one of the best songs on the record, “Master of Time”, the Winos embrace their relaxed relationship to this eternal element to great effect. Nikrant’s delicate but deft talk-singing is perhaps the most “Lambchop-esque” moment on Real Time, although 1990s Kurt Wagner didn’t have two more of him backing himself up like Nikrant does with Turner and Kenkel. Read more about Real Time here.
“Mercury Girl”, Chime School
From Tales of a Kitchen Porter: A Tribute to Cleaners from Venus (2024, Dandy Boy)
Tales of a Kitchen Porter is lovely both in concept and execution: Dandy Boy Records having fifteen modern indie pop bands record songs from across the discography of The Cleaners from Venus and releasing them via a vinyl record and a “special edition” extra 7″. Given the amount of head Cleaner Martin Newell’s DNA that can be found in the current jangle/guitar pop renaissance, it’s not surprising that a lot of these covers are fairly faithful–but there’s plenty new to enjoy here, too. Chime School’s version of “Mercury Girl” was always going to take the cake for me, though–perhaps my favorite of the San Francisco power pop practitioners taking on one of the best Cleaners songs, and turning it into a more upbeat jangle pop tune but without losing the delicate core of the track? Well, there’s a reason I said it was “better than sex” when I wrote about the compilation. Read more about Tales of a Kitchen Porter: A Tribute to Cleaners from Venus here.
“Transporter Room 3”, Mister Data
From Missing the Metaphor (2024, Little Lifeforms)
Austin’s Mister Data keep it simple on “Transporter Room 3”, perhaps the best song on their brilliant new EP Missing the Metaphor. In the track, Austin Sepulvado’s guitar and vocals sit largely unadorned while unspooling a genuinely affecting and powerful modern folk song about organized labor, ancestral pride, and belief in a shared humanity that extends beyond one’s own lifespan. Oh, and it’s about Star Trek, too–the whole thing is based on a minor plot point from an episode of Deep Space Nine (look, the band is called Mister Data, there’s no getting around it). This is one of the ones where me describing it just isn’t going to adequately do it justice; you don’t have to know anything about Ferengi in order to appreciate “Transporter Room 3”. Read more about Missing the Metaphor here.
“Missing the Metaphor”, Mister Data
From Missing the Metaphor (2024, Little Lifeforms)
The aforementioned “Transporter Room 3” bleeds into Missing the Metaphor’s title track, a rude awakening after the previous song’s interstellar utopianism. Probably the catchiest song on the EP, “Missing the Metaphor” is a just-as-beautiful portrait of the indignity of it all–scraping by in a dreadful job in order to pay the bills and “keep [one’s] dog alive”. We all want “Missing the Metaphor” to be an uplifting “quit your shitty job” anthem, and there’s enough in that chorus to give us something to hang onto, but it doesn’t exactly lend itself just to that reading. This limbo is given a beautiful and, yes, dignified depiction by Mister Data nonetheless, though. Oh, and it’s probably the best song ever to include the phrase “ecclesiastical evermore”. Read more about Missing the Metaphor here.
“Hooks”, The Blackburns
From The Blackburns (2024, Sell the Heart)
The Blackburns aren’t interested if you don’t have a hook. “They’ve got these songs that if you listen, it’s like trying to read a book / All I know when I hear ‘em though is that they got no hook,” they memorably declare in “Hooks”, the opening song to their self-titled debut album. Thankfully, the Philadelphia-based songwriting duo of Nick Palmer and Joel Tannenbaum practice what they preach on The Blackburns, particularly in that opening track. The chorus trends towards 90s radio-rock–hardly a bad thing, especially when paired with Lynna Stancao’s keyboard playing and some ace vocal trade-offs in the verses. It all makes sense for a band that claims the Angus soundtrack as an inspiration.
“Radio King (Stereo)”, Curling
From Radio King/Mallow (Stereo) (2024, Royal Oakie)
Berkeley/Tokyo duo Curling made one of my favorite albums of last year with No Guitar, an exhilarating mix of power pop, math rock, and prog-pop made with a studio rat attitude (rattitude?). However, the album that initially got Curling on my radar was the previous one, 2018’s Definitely Band, which contained plenty of the hallmarks that populated the eventual follow-up, too. For the album’s sixth anniversary, Curling have looked back and put out stereo mixes of two songs from Definitely Band, “Radio King” and “Mallow”, on their new label Royal Oakie. These new reimaginings “from the ground up” sound great, particularly the emotional 60s pop tapestry of “Radio King”; I wouldn’t expect less from a band that named this song after the snare drum they used on the original recording.
“I Used to Feel Different”, MAITA
From Want (2024, Fluff & Gravy)
Portland singer-songwriter Maria Maita-Keppeler and her eponymous project MAITA got a bit of attention for 2022’s Kill Rock Stars-released I Just Want to Be Wild for You. MAITA’s proper follow-up, Want, seems to have flown under the radar a bit (at least it did for me), but it’s my favorite of Maita-Keppeler’s works yet. There’s plenty to recommend among Want’s dozen tracks, but single “I Used to Feel Different” is practically crying out for playlist/mixtape representation. It’s guitar-based indie pop at its most streamlined and maximally-effective, with Maita-Keppeler’s voice, the confidently chugging guitar lines, and the smartly-deployed synths all serving to deliver hooks.
“Boulder Toss”, HEDGE
From Better Days (2024, Midnight Werewolf/Bloated Kat)
Ah, I love a good all-in Bob Mould-style aggressive power-pop-punk record, don’t you? Statistically speaking, you probably do, and you’ll probably want to give the debut album from Worcester, Massachusetts’ HEDGE a spin if so. Better Days rushes through eleven fully-developed pop songs in twenty minutes–the title track nearly became my pick, but “Boulder Toss” sets such a high bar opening the record that it became the one that made the cut here. The verses are where HEDGE do some Lemonheads-esque revved-up alt-rock and the chorus is the punk barnburner, but both sections of the track are equally catchy–they’re burning through hooks like there’s no tomorrow on Better Days, and there’s no arguing with the finished product.
“What If I Like It?”, Pacing
From Pretty Filthy (Covers) (2024)
Here’s a rough timeline of events: in January 2015, the off-Broadway musical Pretty Filthy–featuring lyrics and music written by the late Michael Friedman–debuted, with content based on the adult film industry and drawn from interviews from people in the field. Around 2018 or 2019, Katie McTigue of the band Pacing became obsessed with Pretty Filthy to the point of proselytizing to co-workers about “the porn musical”. Now jump to 2024, where McTigue, emboldened by the strides she’s made as a musician and arranger in Pacing (including releasing one of the best albums of last year), decides to record a covers EP, and she’s got the perfect song to open it up. The whole EP is great (seriously, I came this close to putting it in Pressing Concerns), but Pacing’s take on “What If I Like It?” from the previously-discussed musical is just something else. McTigue does the “theatrical” part with her voice (eventually singing over a few versions of herself), and the “Pacing-esque” folk-pop instrumental (there’s some nice bass on this one) is a winning combination. I like it even more than Pacing’s shockingly intimate take on “Stacy’s Mom”!
“Oh No! I Forgot My Chill Pill”, Addicus
From Addicus (2024, Acid Punk/Leave It at That)
Addicus are a new-ish band from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula with a penchant for 2010s-style scrappy indie pop punk and even a bit of emo mixed in, too. Addicus is a strong introduction to the band, evoking groups like Remember Sports, Chumped, and Camp Cope but with their own nervous, melancholic stamp on the songwriting. The best song on Addicus is the first one–“Oh No! I Forgot My Chill Pill” is just about perfect, an unhinged, sugary pop punk tune that would’ve been right at home on Remember Sports’ Sunchokes or All of Something, with lead vocalist Lex laying out an engrossing mess in the lyrics before summing it all up with “I guess it’s just my normal mood swings”. Read more about Addicus here.
“Cloud or Mountain”, Wild Pink
From Dulling the Horns (2024, Fire Talk)
My favorite Wild Pink album is still their self-titled debut. John Ross and friends have gone further and further away from my “kind” of music since then, but I’ll always give their records a listen because something always blows me away on them. Dulling the Horns might actually be my favorite of theirs since Wild Pink–teaming up with Justin Pizzoferrato to capture a live-in-studio sound will do that, yes. The more stripped-down, blustery country-rock sound of this record is a great fit for them, but Ross hasn’t simplified his writing down to match–look at my favorite song on the record, “Cloud or Mountain”, which shifts from a roaring folk-rock anthem to a more mid-tempo heartland rock exploration and eventually building to a big, all-hands-on-deck finish. I love the sauntering title track, too, but the ambitious-but-cathartic nature of this track makes it one of Wild Pink’s best songs ever–no qualifier there.
“Blue Flame”, Downhaul
From How to Begin (2024, Self Aware/Landland Colportage)
“Blue Flame” is the track that opens Downhaul’s How to Begin, and like the other song of theirs on this playlist, it also has a moment about a minute into the song that blows me away. It’s when the band slips into power chords and steady percussion to launch Gordon Phillips’ most memorable line of the song (“California funeral – it oughta be raining, shouldn’t it?”) streaming through the air. The trick of “Blue Flame”, though, is that it eats its cake and has it too–it leans into automatically-pleasing moments like that, but it’s so much more than them, with Phillips’ elemental writing doing the less-obvious but arguably even more important work of shading the song and situating us for Downhaul’s latest show. Read more about How to Begin here.
“Mystery”, Rose Melberg
From Things We Tried to Hide (Selected Songs, 1993-2023) (2024, Antiquated Future/Two Plum Press)
Portland-based Antiquated Future Records has a series of cassettes called “Selected Songs” where they compile music from across an artist’s career in one cassette tape–Rose Melberg, an indie pop legend with a sprawling discography stretched across several projects, is a great subject for this kind of project. I’m mostly only familiar with Melberg’s more well-known work, so finding a bunch of great lesser-known recordings on Things We Tried to Hide has been very rewarding–for example, I didn’t know I needed to hear Melberg cover “Mystery” by the Wipers, but her solo version is one of my favorites on the entire compilation. It’s originally from a twenty-two song covers collection from 2012 (also featuring Melberg’s takes on The Clean, Thin Lizzy, and Sebadoh, among others), so now I have yet another Rose Melberg album I’m keen to listen to. Not streaming; listen on Bandcamp. Read more about Things We Tried to Hide (Selected Songs, 1993-2023) here.
“Union Bust”, Neato
From Future Stunts (2024)
Do you like bands that sound like Pavement with a bit of a louder garage rock-y edge? If so, you might want to queue up the latest EP from Burlington, Vermont quartet Neato. And even if charged-up slacker rock isn’t your thing, you still might be swayed by the crunchy power pop of my favorite song on Future Stunts, “Union Bust”. The debut EP from Ayden Flanigan (guitar) Lily Kulp, (drums) Mason Kosman (guitar), and Adam Morenberg (bass) is a blast, and nowhere is that more apparent than the 2.5 minute jolt of “Union Bust”, a jumble of guitars and hooks. Malkmus had his Stone Temple Pilots-as-elegant bachelors, Neato give us the random Fontaines D.C. namedrop in the midst of this scurrying rocker.
“I Know I Know”, Bad Moves
From Wearing Out the Refrain (2024, Don Giovanni)
“I Know I Know” is the shortest song on Bad Moves’ third album, Wearing Out the Refrain, clocking in at under two minutes–and it’s also one of the record’s best. “I Know I Know” has the unenviable task of following up “Hallelujah” (which was in an earlier one of these playlists and is on my shortlist for best song of the year); it takes the “just don’t look down” route straight ahead by speeding through one long, continuous hook that doesn’t allow for a moment’s peace before crossing the finish line. Bad Moves’ unique take on boisterous, rambunctious guitar pop music is always exhilarating on impact and leaves plenty to chew on after that initial rush–even on songs like “I Know I Know” that come crashing through breathlessly. Read more about Wearing Out the Refrain here.
“Heaven (Yet)”, Steve Slagg
From I Don’t Want to Get Adjusted to This World (2024)
The folk contingent of this blog’s readership will find a lot to like in I Don’t Want to Get Adjusted to This World, the third full-length from Chicago singer-songwriter Steve Slagg. Slagg plays in the band Mooner and has collaborated with Erin McKeown and members of Chaepter, but it’s a song from his recently-released solo record that really caught my ear. It’s one of the busier moments on a largely peaceful and pastoral-sounding record, swinging from straightforward folk-pop to orchestral chamber pop to a big psychedelic pop finish (Slagg mentions XTC as a touchpoint for this one, and it’s not not in line with Mummer as well as Andy Partridge’s most recent project, The 3 Clubmen). “Guys like us don’t go to Heaven yet / But I don’t wanna die in Provincetown,” Slagg declares, a fitting climax for a song that shoots for something grand.
“Pascal and Sabine”, Lost in Society
From The Distribution of Comfort (2024, Wiretap)
Sometimes a good song is just a good song. Lost in Society knows this–the Spotify bio for the New Jersey-based group simply reads “Rippers only.”, and their Bandcamp page identifies them only as a “3 piece punk band from Asbury Park, NJ”. It appears that, since 2012, the band has put out three albums and a handful of EPs, with the four-song The Distribution of Comfort becoming the latest addition to the latter category. The whole thing rocks (I wish I could’ve fit “Skeleton Painting” on here, too), but I’m giving a nod to the EP’s opening track, “Pascal and Sabine”, here. The song appears to be named after a French restaurant/brewery in their hometown–don’t know how it relates to the rest of the track, which is a classic, vintage-style melodic power-pop-punk banger that pulls out all the stops in terms of pure catchiness (the “IIIIII-” in the sweeping chorus, the zagging backing vocals, and, of course, plenty of power chords).
“Justice”, Big Ups
From Eighteen Hours of Static (2014, Dead Labour/Tough Love)
Big Ups’ debut album, Eighteen Hours of Static, came via Tough Love in the U.K. and Dead Labour in the U.S., the latter of which has reissued it for its tenth anniversary and has also put together a supplemental remix album called Eighteen Hours of Static (Hxπ Decoded), featuring a bunch of artists who were a part of the same movement. The original album still sounds monumentally fresh in its live-wire mixture of meaty noise rock, sinewy, claustrophobic 90s post-hardcore/post-rock, and Black Flag-like self-combusting punk rock–it’s the work of a quartet made up of exactly the right players at the right time. “Goes Black” ended up being the most well-known song from Eighteen Hours of Static, but in another world, the blistering, warped punk of “Justice” is Big Ups’ signature song–the way it scurries towards a surprising pop-punk progression as Joe Galarraga howls for justice is just so pleasing. Read more about Eighteen Hours of Static here.
“Three Dykes in a White Pacifica”, Allie
From Every Dog (2024, Anxiety Blanket/Snack Shack Tracks)
Well, well, well, if it isn’t another great folk rock song about traveling and exploring and transcendence and whatnot. This one comes to us via Detroit-originating, New York-based singer-songwriter and producer Allie Cuva, who goes by Allie for her musical exploits. Every Dog is only her second solo album, but Allie’s been busy over the past few years, collaborating with Quarter-Life Crisis, touring as the drummer for Cavetown, and co-hosting a production/songwriting-themed podcast with Sarah Tudzin of Illuminati Hotties (who co-released Every Dog on her Snack Shack Tracks label). Oh, right, “Three Dykes in a White Pacifica”–beautiful, gorgeous song of sweeping desert-folk and indie rock, exploring the Western United States in a way reminiscent of the more pop-friendly moments of Dear Nora.
“Tunnel Song”, Pulsars
From Pulsars (1997, Almo/Tiny Global)
Newly reissued for its twenty-fifth anniversary, the only record from Chicago duo Pulsars remains a singular album, equal parts Cars-y new wave/synthpop homage and irreverent Windy CIty power pop–it doesn’t sound like the late 1990s, but it’s a product of the era. Dave Trumfio sings about robots, technology, and aliens in a way that updates the original 80s paranoia for the era of both slacker and geek rock. He’s pretty unpredictable, too–take early highlight “Tunnel Song”, for instance, which is a buzzing, absurdly catchy synthpop tune about various tunnels in the United States. “Tunnels can be dark or bright,” Trumfio explains–and, of course, Pittsburgh gets a prominent mention. Read more about Pulsars here.
“Locked and Left Behind”, Yon Loader
From Yon Loader (2024, Tiny Engines)
I first heard of New Zealand’s James Stutley via his longrunning duo Carb on Carb, but–mere months after the most recent Carb on Carb album–he’s now debuted a new project titled Yon Loader. Although Stutley is the creative head of Yon Loader, a “cast of rotating collaborators” help give the project’s self-titled debut record a full-sounding, chilly emo-y indie rock sheen. Released on Tiny Engines, Yon Loader is in line with a lot of the label’s discography, particularly the wistful journal entry-rock of Norway’s Flight Mode and their Scandinavian emo-rock associates. I don’t know who’s singing the lead vocals on “Locked and Left Behind”, the first song on Yon Loader, but they do a great job and are key to setting the stage for the entire record: matter-of-fact and melancholic, they sound strong enough to carry the polished, mid-tempo sad-rock instrumental up to the next level. Read more about Yon Loader here.
“XTC 1000”, Slippers
From So You Like Slippers? (2024, Lame-O)
Madeline BB lives in Los Angeles, but she also spent time with New York’s Yucky Duster and grew up in Atlanta. The Bandcamp page for her debut album as Slippers lays out an interesting array of Georgia music that inspired her–Atlanta garage rockers like the Black Lips and Balkans, Elephant 6 in nearby Athens, and (perhaps not as intuitively, but making a lot of sense) the music of Cartoon Network, particularly the Powerpuff Girls. So You Like Slippers? is a brief indie pop jolt, tossing off ten guitar pop gems in seventeen minutes, and my favorite of them is the opening track, “XTC 1000”. Even though it’s over in under two minutes, “XTC 1000” has enough time to add some offbeat touches to its offbeat power pop, particularly the drum-led introduction and stop-start new wave-y attitude (the title isn’t inaccurate, no).
“Ode”, The Gabys
From The Gabys (2024, Fruits & Flowers)
Though they may be across the globe in the United Kingdom, The Gabys fit very well among the quieter side of the current guitar pop revival happening in the San Francisco Bay Area, with the duo honing in on a similar ability to make timeless-sounding pop songs from the most basic of ingredients. Their third record and their second vinyl release, The Gabys (self-titled like their first two releases) has a few hallmarks–simple chord progressions delivered with as much feeling as possible, wispy, gazing-out-the-window dream pop-style vocals, unobtrusive drum machines, classic rock and roll slowed to a crawl. “Ode” opens the EP with The Gabys at their best, plugging away at a sub-two-minute song that features all the previously-mentioned aspects for their version of a pop hit. Read more about The Gabys here.
“Heaven”, Best Bets
From The Hollow Husk of Feeling (2024, Meritorio/Melted Ice Cream)
On most indie rock albums, “Heaven” would be the unquestioned best track–Best Bets are college rock carpenters here, hammering out every pop detail for four minutes and giving us an indie pop sensory overload. If you insist on a Flying Nun comparison for these New Zealanders, it kind of reminds me of The 3D’s at their most “anthemic”. Of course, The Hollow Husk of Feeling also just happens to have the song I chose to lead off this monthly playlist with amongst its tracks as well, so “Heaven” has some pretty steep competition. Nevertheless, “Heaven” has to get The Hollow Husk of Feeling’s apocalyptic party started, and in that task it is highly successful–things are now in full swing. Read more about The Hollow Husk of Feeling here.
“LA Vibes”, Shredded Sun
From Wilding (2024)
If you enjoyed Each Dot and Each Line and Translucent Eyes, the twin 2023 releases from Chicago’s Shredded Sun, you’ll be pleased to hear that the trio pick up right where they left off on their latest album, Wilding. Now, some of the tossed-off psych-garage energy of their last two records gives way to something just a little more deliberate and measured, but it’s not a huge departure, and highlights like “LA Vibes” recapture a lot of what makes Shredded Sun’s recent records so great. Guitarist Nick Ammerman, the more subtle of the band’s two vocalists, gets to do his best “Yo La Tengo but cool-sounding” loiter-drone-pop impression on this sun-drenched track, chugging smoothly, slickly, and deftly with assistance from drummer Ben Bilow and bassist Sarah Ammerman. Read more about Wilding here.
“Anaheim”, Alejandro
From Anaheim (2024, Good Eye)
Alejandro arose from the now-on-hiatus Brooklyn quartet Personal Space, known (by me, at least) for their unique mix of shining indie pop, languid soft rock, and relaxed but still sharp math rock. Personal Space frontperson Alex Silva and drummer Jesse Chevan joined with Charlie Hack (bass) and Justin Gonçalves (guitar) for Alejandro, and their first release is a low-key three-song EP called Anaheim. It’s hard to think of a better introduction to Alejandro than the EP’s opening title track, a gorgeous piece of guitar pop that eagerly serves the whirlwind, confusing story that Silva delivers in the song’s lyrics. Silva sounds surprisingly messy on “Anaheim”, allowing Alejandro to be straightforward in a way Personal Space tended to avoid. In the interest of presenting both sides, however, I should also present a more mixed review of the song that my co-worker gave to me: “He’s giving us way too much detail. I don’t need to know that he went to his cousin’s place”. Read more about Anaheim here.
“Animal Child”, Guidon Bear
From Internal Systems (2024, Antiquated Future)
I’ve hidden it near the end of this playlist, but “Animal Child” is one of the most beautiful and moving pieces of music I’ve heard this year (tied with a couple of other songs on Guidon Bear’s Internal Systems, yes). Mary Water and Pat Maley compliment each other with the skill of two long-term collaborators–Maley’s polished synths shade the folk rock/indie pop core of the track, and Water’s vocals and lyrics are the work of an empathetic, engrossing genius. Her depiction of a problematic but beloved figure is touching in its combination of hyper-specificity and universality, an unapologetic tribute to someone that doesn’t fit in with our “proper” world for better and for worse (“Go to your fake friends for nods and for smiles / Animal child”). Read more about Internal Systems here.
“On My Knees”, MJ Lenderman
From Manning Fireworks (2024, Anti-)
Sure, I’ll write about another song from the new MJ Lenderman album. Why not? It’s good! And “On My Knees”, the penultimate track on Manning Fireworks, isn’t just good, it’s positively great. I’ve had the pleasure of watching Mr. Lenderman explode in popularity in real time, and Manning Fireworks, the first album made with any kind of expectations for the singer-songwriter, feels like a transitional one for me (not a criticism, no). I see a few different paths that Lenderman could end up taking throughout Manning Fireworks, but let me make the case for “On My Knees” here. It’s what I would call a “slab” of rock music, rock-solid Drive-By Truckers-core southern rock that serves as a tapestry for Lenderman to rattle off some writing that’s more subtle and a little richer than a lot of the rest of the album. It’s a nice mix of stark simplicity and Lenderman “offbeatness”, with the most memorable lyric drops being just a bit too weird to be memeable (“Burdened by those wet dreams / Of people having fun”; “A bee’s nest nestled in a hole in the yard / Of Travolta’s bald head”).
“Ocean Imagery”, Wifey
From Just a Tease (2024, Mt Crushmore)
It took me a while to decide how I felt about Brooklyn theater kid power pop/pop punk group Wifey and their debut EP, Just a Tease. The high school torrent of “Mary Ann Leaves the Band” was a head turner, but I think “Ocean Imagery” is the one that convinced me of the brilliance of vocalist/songwriter Teddy Grey and their backing band of bassist Carly Kerr, guitarist Mickey Blurr, and drummer Harley Cox. “Ocean Imagery” is a power pop meltdown, bemoaning the personal and artistic regression caused by having a crush (“But you make me feel like I’ve turned fourteen again / Tripping over my words every time I hold a pen”). “I swear at one point I was lyrical,” Grey vows before finally giving into the siren’s song of the titular cliche as “Ocean Imagery”…washes ashore.
Rosy Overdrive 