1) Grandaddy, “Blu Wav” / “You’re Going to Be Fine and I’m Going to Hell” and “Watercooler,” which mark the fourth and fifth tracks on the new Grandaddy record, feel as though they were written just for me. Friendship and regret, cosmic inside jokes and tiny spaces for hope to live between each breath—all set to crooning indie rock and endless synth fields; this is the best of what Jason Lytle and his crew do.
And after not doing it, at least on tape, for seven years, it’s so good to be experiencing Grandaddy at their best, and to tease out the implications of what they mean for and to each of us.
2) Frontier Ruckus, “On the Northline” / Speaking of bands returning after lengthy layoffs, the new one from these Michigan lads yields so many needed moments of delight and reflection. Nearly every song had me saying “Oh, this is the best track” until the next one came along. Songwriter Matthew Milia remains the poet laureate of disaffected suburban kids, but is so much more here: a husband, a father, an old soul finally catching up to himself, and writing from inside all those experiences.
3) The music of Glass Beams / This Australian collective gathers influence from founding member Rajan Silva’s Indian heritage, and from the beautiful cultural collision heard in the music of artists like George Harrison and Ravi Shankar, to craft some of the coolest, most exquisite funk in the musical atmosphere.
4) Jeremiah Chiu, “In Electric Time” / On this fall 2023 record, the L.A.-based composer and sound artist creates pocket symphonies from instruments housed in his hometown’s Vintage Synthesizer Museum. The colors, overtones and resonances Chiu accesses are nothing short of sublime.
5) Katie Manning, “How to Be Pure” and “After Reminiscing with a Friend about 90s Purity Culture, I Make a Found Poem from Snow Blower Instructions” for The Point / I count myself fortunate to be alive at the same time Katie Manning writes poems. Her work here and elsewhere braces and consoles, makes you laugh to keep from crying—then makes space for you to cry anyway. These two pieces reclaim slivers of what purity culture stole in a voice that’s distinctly, wholly Manning’s.