A Few Underrated 2025 Albums You Should Check Out

Volume 11 | January 2026: Sam & I tackle some of the records we missed last year.

Good morning! 

Today Sam Colt and I are each sharing a few more of our favorite 2025 records…ones that might’ve been overlooked or deserve more time in the spotlight. 

We are so back.

Welcome to the latest installment of our (not so) new series! For those of you who may have missed previous editions, here’s a bit of context:

In this monthly series, Sam Colt and I will each share our picks for artists and/or titles that haven’t received their due. You’ll recognize Sam’s name from our On Repeat and Friends Best of Series, and also our Top 100 of all-time series last fall. These posts will adopt the latter’s format; I will make my case for my three picks and my reaction to Sam’s. Sam’s page will do the reverse. 

In the inaugural post, we noted that successive editions would narrow things down slightly. Maybe a specific genre…maybe a specific era…maybe a specific…well, who knows! 


“There never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do” is a great line from an admittedly heavy song by Jim Croce (and, as it turns out, a prescient one in his case). When it comes to records, it never feels like I have enough time to listen to all the ones I want to, to write up the ones I hope people will love, etc. Real life is really good at getting in the way of the things we want to do. This is obviously a great problem to have, but still…

As noted before, I’ve taken some steps to remedy that. I left quite a few records on the table this past year, and come December, I’d like to be able to tell you that things went differently in 2026. We’ll see how it goes.

But it’s not just me that’s been wrestling with this. My partner in crime, Sam Colt, is in the same boat, and for our first installment of the year, we figured we’d at least try to fix that by shining a light on a few releases that either got by us or we ran out of time on.

When you’re done here, remember to check out Sam’s take at This Is a Newsletter!

This Is a Newsletter!Observational humor, philosophical musings, cultural analysis. Recovering ad copywriter that’s touching grass and taking the grillpill. Is life hell on earth? Yeah, of course. But is it also chill? It’s pretty chill.By Sam Colt

Let’s get to it!

KA—


The Tubs- Cotton Crown

The home screen of my phone is blank. I have every app tucked into a folder titled “Kitchen Sink.” This is good for helping with endless scroll, but bad for things like remembering I have the Bandcamp app. It also means I forget that I happen to own great records like The Tub’s Cotton Crown. This is one of those records you play, then wonder why you don’t play it more often.

Cotton Crown is a simple record. It does exactly what it says on the tin. And the tin says things like “great up-tempo rock with a lead singer who sounds like he could be Richard Thompson’s son.” If you haven’t heard Owen Williams yet, give this a listen, then play something from Shoot Out the Lights. It’s uncanny.

That alone is worth the price of admission, but Thompson is also a fantastic songwriter. On Cotton Crown, the lyrical themes are pretty dark, but this isn’t a nine-song dirge. The words might be a downer, but that is more than offset by the band’s consistently upbeat, uptempo sound. 

I mean, if you’re gonna sing a verse like:

Yeah I’m not myself
Haven’t been him for weeks
Been deranged
Been such a freak

—from “Freak Mode,” having a little jangle behind it helps it all go down. And that’s essentially the formula for the band’s sophomore outing (no slump here!). Bummer lyrics and a sunny sound. It’s a great pairing and makes for a record that, more than most, I wish I’d spent more time with these last few months. Hopefully, this is a preview of what’s to come.

Sam’s Pick and My Take: The Necks- Disquiet

Here I am once again saying that I don’t care what Dril thinks; you do, in fact, have to hand it to Sam once in a while. He has once again put a record on my radar that I never would’ve seen in a million years. I went in cold, knowing only three things: the band name, the title, and that there were four tracks. 

In my head, this added up to a punk/hardcore EP, and, well, let’s just say that was (very) wide of the mark. Jumping straight from Cotton Crown to this didn’t help. My first clue was when I saw the opening track was just under an hour.

Then there’s this from their Bandcamp page:

With music so open, there are profound opportunities to choose: what to focus on, whether to focus at all, etc. Disquiet takes this further: there is no particular listening order prescribed. There is no “Disc 1, Disc 2, Disc 3.” The music itself seems to stretch time, and this presentation challenges ideas of sequencing. The Necks, one may argue, are a mode of discovery as much as they are a band.

That’s… a lot. Distilled down, this is an ambient record, but not the sort that pops up when you Google “cure for insomnia.” It’s chill enough to play in the background while doing something else (translation: not distracting), but interesting enough that I found myself going back and listening to parts more than once. It’s cliché to describe a record as challenging, or one that asks as much of the listener as they do of the artist, but when it fits, it fits. And you’ve got to hand it to The Necks: this is an incredible record.


Hélène Barbier-Panorama

As noted above, at the end of the year, I wrote about what to expect going forward. One of the things I highlighted was work I didn’t quite get to in 2025, and records that, for whatever reason, I didn’t feature here. I avowed that I would change that in 2026 and even tentatively titled the series “Records I Left on the Table,” suggesting we could workshop the title. What’s not up for debate is that this is one of the records I had in mind (and was playing) when I typed that first draft. There were admittedly some time constraints—it was released in mid-November (see also: De La Soul).

The TL;DR is that this is sui generis no wave. But there’s so much more. With Panorama, Barbier has built a quixotic little universe that pulls you in right from the start. Perhaps nowhere is that more evident than on “Milquetoast,” a track that feels like something Björk might’ve written if she were from Montreal.

Throughout the record, the sound dances around with flourishes like little whirling dervishes. Sometimes it’s very twee; at others, it’s intense. It’s a little off balance, sometimes erratic, and delightfully peculiar in a way that only someone like Barbier could pull off. The result is a record that keeps you coming back for more.

Sam’s Pick and My Take: Sudan Archives- The BPM

Longtime readers may recall that I’m not a fan of trap or anything “glitch,” but I love house music—Detroit and Chicago varieties doubly so. The BPM hits all four. There’s no shortage of four-on-the-floor here (I read that she used a Roland SP-404). I’ll take all of that you’ve got!

But there are also family-sized doses of Auto-Tune, which isn’t awesome. That said, the production here is on point. The lyrics touch on substantive topics (a rarity in this genre), making much of this sound like a dancefloor confessional rather than the usual frivolous—or purely hedonic—words we’re used to hearing boom from speakers. None of that sucks, and it all adds up to a pleasant overall experience.


Say She She- Cut & Rewind

Say She She’s third album, Cut & Rewind, really deserves more attention. From beginning to end, it’s their best work so far—pure fun with sharp observations, and every track grooves as much as the message it carries.

The New York City trio—Piya Malik, Sabrina Cunningham, and Nya Gazelle Brown—draw from ’70s soul, disco, and funk, but it never feels like pastiche.

The album opens with “Possibilities,” an early showcase for the three voices. Individually, they are incredible; together, they become a force, riding along on a wave of funk. “Under the Sun” follows as an anthem of solidarity. “Little Kisses” slows things down for a second and lets us catch our breath. On “Make It Known,” Say She She stretches into more contemporary territory, showing us that they’re not above covering some new ground. More than anything, whether it’s new wave, disco, or pop, they make it look easy.

Part of the album’s magic comes from the band’s recording approach. Apparently, each song was written and recorded the same day, with only three instrumental takes and the best one making the cut. Given how polished the record sounds, I have to wonder if that was true. The sound hitting your ears and the words that just hit your eyes are hard to reconcile.

Cut & Rewind is a timely reminder that music can be both joyous and political, and boy, could we use some of that right now! Say She She are locked in, drop some killer grooves, and deliver a record that’s right on time for these times.

Sam’s Pick and My Take: De La Soul- Cabin in the Sky

Last month seems like ten years ago, but just a few short weeks ago, we were waist-deep in AOTY season. For my part, I kicked things off with a “Noteworthy Releases” piece where I noted, “…Cabin in the Sky came out less than four weeks ago—and IMO, it’s some of the best work they’ve ever put out.” Not only do I stand by that, but I would also contend that had it come out earlier—even in, say, September or October—it would’ve made my top 10. I just hadn’t had enough time to absorb it all. In fact, I’m still not sure I’m there.

On paper, this is supposed to be a eulogy for Dave Jolicoeur, aka Trugoy, aka Plug 2, but you’d never know. It would’ve been easy, I suppose, to drop a sad record—one where every bar oozed grief. No one would’ve blamed them, and sales would’ve likely been steady. That’s not De La’s style, and they certainly weren’t about to start now. Instead, we get something more akin to a celebration or a procession you’d see in New Orleans. Or, in their own words 37 years ago: “Style is surely our own thing. Not the false disguise of showbiz.”


That’s a wrap! What are your thoughts on these records? Do you own any of them? Share your thoughts in the comments! Rants, raves, and spicy takes are all welcome. And if you have any ideas on future themes, please share those as well! Don’t forget to check out Sam’s thoughts over at This Is a Newsletter!

Thanks for being here, 

Kevin—

Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.

For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.

As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!

When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:

Each week, I try to come at this with a certain theme—or at least a nominal throughline—running through it. Sometimes that really does only go as far as “what I’ve been listening to.” There’s no deeper meaning here, no message I want people to pick up—just a snapshot of the week that was for a suburban dad living on Hoth in flyover country. Some real Occam’s Razor stuff, to be sure. And sometimes that escape or respite is just what we need—if only for a few minutes at a time.

Zooming in a bit: on Saturday, I mentioned that the Best Record of 2001 bracket would kick off soon (are you in?). There’s a couple of tracks here from records on the initial ballot (Colin Hay, The Dirtbombs, and Semisonic), a few brand-new tracks from old faves (New Pornographers, Snail Mail, Kim Gordon), and a new spin on an old favorite, with The Beaches taking on a song everyone raised on MTV will remember (h/t to Dan Pal for getting it on my radar!).

We’re also rewatching Mad Men, which led me to finally find a Decemberists song I liked. Funny how that works. Saving the best for last, we’ve also got a new one from our pal Lancelot Schaubert.

In other words, a world surrounded by sound, with tracks coming from all corners. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

KA—

On to the music…

Other sources: Qobuz | YouTube Music | Apple Music

Now it’s your turn.

Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!

P.S. A few of you have asked whether I sequence these as an album or mixtape. The answer is always “yes.” In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…

This week, Side A is tracks 1-14, with Side B being 15-27

Sound Advice: 22. January. 2026

Today we’re taking a quick look at some garage punk from both the Best Coast and No Coast, some no wave from Down Under, and bit of hip hop from Nottingham.

Longtime readers may recall that I reviewed 100 new (to me) records last year. Because I’m a glutton for punishment love music, I’m doing it again this year. This is the latest in the series.


Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at the latest from Dry Cleaning, Sleaford Mods, Perfect Buzz and Wristwatch.

The boilerplate intro: Every year, I celebrate all the great music we’ve been gifted while worrying that next year will see the other shoe drop. I first did that in December 2020 and have been proven wrong every month since. Not only are there a ton of releases steadily coming out, but it also transcends genre or any other artificial guardrail we try to put up.

In other words, a ton of good stuff is still coming out, and there’s something for everyone. It’s almost overwhelming— but in all the best ways. These are another batch that caught my attention recently.

Hard to believe that it’s 2026 already, but here we are. Luckily for us, the records keep coming. Below are a few quick field reports from right between the sound machine.

Let’s get into it!


Wristwatch- III

Album art courtesy of Wristwatch

The pitch: After a 3-year layoff, Madison’s Wristwatch kicks the door in and delivers a blistering dose of garage punk.

If nothing else, the title of the band’s third album is on the nose. Know what else is on the nose? Just how well they nail down these songs. I had some knowledge of the band (translation: I knew a couple of tracks) and liked what I heard, but had never experienced a full record. Listening through the first few, it’s clear I’d been missing out. The previous records were recorded and mixed at frontman Bobby Hussy’s house. For III, the band brought in producer Beau Sorenson (Bob Mould, Superchunk) to engineer and mix the sessions. The result? Everything is leveled up (no pun intended).

III is a record that starts at 3k RPMs and never lets up. Coming apart at the seams is an occupational hazard of playing this brand of high-voltage music. That never happens here. Hussy is as theatrical as ever, but never too far gone. Ben Deidrich’s guitar work runs the gamut from bruising chords to angular riffs and back again. The rhythm section of Tyler Spatz (Geoff Palmer) and Eric Hartz (The Flavor That Kills) keeps everything in the pocket and keeps everything from spiraling off into terminal velocity.

When I do a first listen, I like to try to take note of what might be a feature track. This time around, I couldn’t narrow it down. Opener “Screwed” gives an early taste of what we’re about to get into. “Hints” does the best job of showcasing each of the four players and drives deep into post-punk territory. But really, all of ’em rip. It’s magnificent. And just the thing for right now. I’ve been listening to this on my pre-dawn commute this week, and it’s almost made me forget the subzero temps on the other side of the windshield. Get in.

The RIYL roster includes some of the usual suspects: Buzzcocks, New Bomb Turks, and to my ear, maybe even a bit of the Supersuckers.

Listen/buy via Bandcamp


Dry Cleaning- Secret Love

Album art courtesy of 4AD Records

In 2021, Dry Cleaning’s New Long Leg felt new and exciting — just the sort of thing needed to shrug off the lingering malaise of the pandemic. Florence Shaw’s writing and deadpan vocals felt like a “brand refresh” for The Fall. It might’ve been a case of putting a new spin on an old formula, but it worked. And it worked well enough that New Long Leg was my record of the year.

That year, I wrote in part:

The English post-punk band knocked it out of the park with their debut album…The musings/vocals mix well with the layered, dense soundscapes she’s talking over (but not overtaking). Dry Cleaning reminds me a bit of King Missle, except Shaw’s talking about things like lanyards and helicopters, and not detachable…organs…

In other words, Mark E. Smith and John S. Hall walked so Dry Cleaning could run.

But given the brand of music they were making, how far could they go? If I’m honest, I didn’t really want to find out. If New Long Leg was a revelation, Stumpwork was… not. And in a crowded field, it wasn’t hard to overlook it.

The nudge I need came from our pals at 3Albums6OldGuys who went in with the same reservations I had.

They brought two concerns to the table, both of which I’d been wondering about.

Dry Cleaning is, at least from a listener’s perspective (my sense is they probably don’t give a rat’s ass), a band confronting two issues: (1) they’ve really only had a singular sound, so for how long can they keep doing the same thing?; and (2) other bands have now gotten more attention with that sound, and because of those other bands (rather than them), the sound seems a bit played out. So, do they keep going, a la Guided by Voices, and just say “f it; this is who we are and what we do” and keep churning out more of the same, or do they change it up?

Things kick off with “Hit My Head All Day,” which at 6 minutes and change might be about 3 minutes and change too long for a Dry Cleaning song. But just a few seconds in, you start hearing other elements and stylistic shifts. Nothing major, just enough to think that maybe they’ve gone with mixing things up. Maybe the formula’s not as rigid as we thought?

“Cruise Ship Designer” has a bit of call-and-response, with Shaw serving a bit of an anchor while her bandmates do their thing. At 2:30, it’s the perfect length. The title track feels almost… warm? Ditto “The Cute Things.”

And are there horns here? Am I listening to the right record here?!

Dear reader, it sure sounds like it, and I am.

The band brought in Cate Le Bon to produce. Le Bon’s no stranger to this lane of no wave and art pop, and does well to bring Shaw out of her shell. Insouciance is great, but only for a few tracks. Same with bandmates Tom Dowse (guitar), Lewis Maynard (bass), and Nick Buxton (drums). Shaw is still the sun they orbit around, but overall, Secret Love finds them operating more as a band than on previous records.

So yeah… a lot of leaning into familiar territory here, but also hints of evolution. Sometimes the signal’s faint, and sometimes it’s 5×5. That said, they save the loudest transmission for the end. Album closer “Joy” is, well, a joy. I’m always a sucker for a jangly guitar, but add Florence Shaw again actually singing in places, and now we’re cooking with gas. It’s all relative, but relatively speaking, it’s a sea change and a refreshing one at that. If the other elements throughout the record (e.g., brass, background choruses, etc.) were a hint, this is indisputable evidence.

Consider me cautiously optimistic.

Listen/buy via Bandcamp


Also awesome:

Perfect Buzz- Happy Trails (EP): PDX garage/punk scene vet Petey’s (Pure Country Gold, Suicide Notes) latest project is Perfect Buzz. Happy Trails blends first-wave punk, power pop, and psych in a way that can only come out of the 503. I’ll take all of this ya got! On a side note, in their Bandcamp pic, one is wearing a Dead Moon hat, which made me irrationally happy. Incredible.

Sleaford Mods- The Demise of Planet X: One of the things I miss the most about Twitter is having a feed full of cool/interesting people. That itself was a gift. Occasionally, something like “Kebab Spider” showed up on your TL and blew your mind. It was the perfect record at the perfect time. Those days are gone, but Sleaford Mods are still at it and have delivered what might be their best work yet. The Demise of Planet X is again the perfect record for right now. Surveying the land, they pull no punches and give no Fs. At this point, that’s table stakes for the band.

In danger of becoming a one-trick pony (see also: Dry Cleaning), the duo of Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn long ago figured out that stretching the boundaries made sense. There are guest spots (Aldous Harding, Sue Tompkins, etc.), which we’ve come to expect. What I wasn’t ready for is how varied the sound itself is. Make no mistake: it’s still looping and relentless, but we’re a long way from Fearn holding up a tape recorder in the background. The end result is infectious.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on these records! Did I get it right, or am I way off the mark?

Leave a comment

Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.

For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.

As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!

When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:

Last week, my wife and I decided to walk up to our local high school to watch the boys’ basketball team. As we walked in, we were met with the usual sort of mild chaos these events bring. This was made worse by the fact that the school is trying to realign the kids/parents/visitors/home sections. On paper, this makes sense—they want the student section behind the bench as a sort of sixth man. I get it. That the new layout was only sorta explained and almost totally ignored is on brand. There are, of course, much, much worse things to deal with.

As we found a place to sit, I was struck with two conflicting thoughts: 1) man, I’m glad we don’t have to deal with this anymore, and 2) how lucky we are that we still get to do this.

There was a time when that was all very much in question. In 2020, we were steeped in the world of player-parenting. I’ve noted it before, but there was a years-long stretch where my car never didn’t have a pair of cleats in it (It smelled exactly they way you’re imagining it did). Losing that sports lifeline cut deeper than a lot of the other things that vanished. Again, not the biggest thing to worry about during a global pandemic, but it sure felt like it. It felt like a dark tunnel with no way out.

Then came light. A pinpoint at first, but my first inkling that it wasn’t another oncoming train came in the form of seeing people posting clips of Wilco’s “Shot in the Arm” on their social media feeds. Help was on the way in the form of a vaccine. It was, well, the boost we needed to bounce back.

2026 is off to an equally heavy start. I don’t know how we’ll know if/when we’ve turned a corner, but seeing “creative” uses of songs from Frozen being used in Minneapolis gives me the same sort of cautious optimism I felt six years ago.

This week, that Wilco song is here. So too are brand-new tracks from Autoleisureland (former members of The Kane Gang), Odd Marshall, Girl Scout, and Memorials. Minneapolis is well represented (how could they not be?!), as are a couple of old standbys. My eyes are wide open and my shoulder very much dropped, but how lucky we are to still get to do this. Let’s work to keep it that way.

On to the music…

KA–

Other sources: Qobuz | YouTube Music | Apple Music

Note: Qobuz is missing a couple this week. Apple is missing Autoleisureland.Now it’s your turn.

Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!

P.S. A few of you have asked if I sequence these as if they’re an album or mixtape. The answer is always “yes.” In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…

This week, Side A is tracks 1-13, with Side B being 14-27.

P.P.S What song defined 2025 for you? Tell me about it here. Thank you to everyone who has responded so far. Please keep ‘em comin’!

Leave a comment

Announcement: An Album of the Month Event You Should Check Out

We’ve got a great host and a killer record, all set to go. All we need now is you! Here’s how to join the fun.

Album art courtesy of Reprise Records

Today we’re talking about Neil Young’s Everybody Knows This is Nowhere, and well, how you can talk about the band with other like minded people.

Note: As some of you know, we host an album discussion (via Zoom) each month, and this month’s is on Sunday. To be clear, all credit goes to 

Terry Barr who facilitates the meetings. He is also taking the reins as this month’s host.

As you’ll see below, these are low-key affairs; all are welcome! If you want to share some thoughts, that’s awesome. Wanna just sit back & listen? That’s cool, too.

Either way, it’d be better with you there.

KA —

It’s that time again; it’s time for our monthly album discussion!

One of our core tenets is sharing music. That obviously involves writing about it, but also talking about it together. We do that monthly here.

Today, January 18th, is that day.

Below is my boilerplate explanation of these discussions and the value you’ll get from joining us. Under that are both the record being discussed and the meeting login details.

  • Don’t know the record? Doesn’t matter.
  • Not comfortable speaking in public? Me either. And you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Heck, you don’t even have to turn your camera on. It’s a safe space, but you control what you share.
  • Ultimately, you’re part of the community; we want you to be a part of this, too.

So check out the “rules” below, and then plan to dial in.

What is this?

For new readers (hi everyone!), we host an online discussion every month.

Here’s how it works:

  • A writer (more on that in a second) picks a record to discuss and writes a brief piece about their choice and the meeting details.
  • At the meeting, they discuss why they picked it, offer a bit of a backstory/context, and whatever else they’d like to share.
  • Everyone else on the call can share their own “hot take,” related story, or anything else you think is relevant.
  • At the end of the meeting, the next month’s writer volunteers (or is chosen), and the process repeats itself.

NOTE FOR INTROVERTS: If you’d prefer to sit in and listen, that is 110% okay. Keep your video off…stay muted…it’s up to you. It’s a safe place; you can participate as much/as little as you’d like.

Press enter or click to view image in full size

This month’s host:

This month’s host is longtime member of The Riff community 

Terry Barr. Terry has been a pillar of this community since almost Day 1, and being able to still get a “first look” at his writing is one of the perks of my job here as editor. His work has been published in multiple journals and magazines. He’s also written (at least) four fantastic books.

Cool! So, what are we talking about?

Terry has chosen Everybody Knows This is Nowhere by Neil Young.

From his article explaining his pick:

Maybe the singer/songwriter/rock savant who captures the lonely and the wandering best is my longtime, personal rock god, Neil Young. Anyone who’s read me for these years knows that in my “everywhere” no other artists have hit me as hard as Young has, so much so that whenever I put one of his earliest albums on the turntable, I see everything of the first time I ever heard it clearly, again, and maybe more clearly now.

That many of us don’t always understand what he’s writing and singing about doesn’t matter. My favorite novels, while I’ve studied them so hard that I do get their meaning or at least some of it, are the initially inscrutable ones. What do you or I really think Faulkner “means” in Absalom, Absalom! or Zadie Smith in White Teeth?

Sometimes I hope that we never quite find the meaning because then we might quit reading or listening, or we might cease to wonder exactly what or who a “cowgirl in the sand” is.

Musical adventure, exploring new sounds, and sharing great music with great people make these discussions a joy.

Join us and see for yourself.

Listen:

Neil Young | Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere (1969)

(Click the record to listen on your platform of choice)

I’m in! How can I join?

Here ya go:

When: Sunday, January 18th: 4 PM Eastern/ 9PM GMT
Where: Join Zoom meeting
ID: 85437235002
Passcode: tPCu#.b4

Thanks for being here (and there!),

Kevin —

For The Record- 17. January. 2026

Some thoughts on The Grateful Dead, grateful Ducks, and one’s shifting musical tastes.

If you want to know what my dad was like, imaginethe Halt and Catch Fire cast member of your choosing towards the end of the series (okay, maybe not Boz). Clean cut. Rarely without a suit and (at one point) a pair of matching Audis in the driveway.

If you want to imagine what my uncle is like, picture the opposite. He was—and is—the prototypical Deadhead. Followed them on the road, had a VW bus, and even made a living designing/selling T-shirts.

If you want an idea of how obnoxious I could be in the mid-90s, just know that I had a “Thank You, Journey” sticker on my car. These, of course, were in response to the legions of “Thank You, Jerry” stickers that everyone had following Jerry Garcia’s death. That marked the end of an era for many people, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered. Sure, I understood the cultural ramifications, but this was a band I only knew of from afar… and from punchlines. It wasn’t for me… yet.

That we lost Bob Weir this week won’t be news to anyone here. I noted a few days ago that it was frankly refreshing to see my TL flooded with remembrances from all corners. I don’t know what it says about 2026 that mourning was a nice change, but here we are.

A lot of people also shared their experiences of the Dead, and of Weir. Almost without exception, those people have more ground to talk than I do. Nevertheless. Here’s a great example. Here’s another. And one more for good measure.

For most of my life, the Dead were a band I experienced secondhand. My uncle playing them in the hopes that this might finally be the time they land with me at home. Friends playing them as we all crammed into someone’s VW and made our way to the coast or Mt. Hood. Grainy Super 8 footage on TV shows. Once, when I was about 10, I tagged along on one of my dad’s business trips. On a rural highway somewhere on the Atlantic seaboard, we passed a car, and he nodded his head toward it, deadpanning, “Those’re Dead Heads.” Strange the way that sort of thing sticks with you. But yeah, not a lot of story to stick to the ribs here.

The next step was part of the glorious rite of passage for most Gen X kids—Columbia House. And one of those 12 free was ’87’s In the Dark. “Touch of Grey?” An all-timer. “Hell in a Bucket?” Not bad! “West L.A. Fadeaway,” same. You’d have never gotten me to admit it back then, but that slinky groove was fantastic. The rest I couldn’t describe if my life depended on it.

Within a year or two, my divorce from pop radio was finalized, and I cannonballed into the world of college radio. The Grateful Dead? Are you kidding me? Hard pass. Even if I was into ’em on principle, their brand of blues and Americana wasn’t in my wheelhouse…Yet. It was a nonstarter. The whole thing just seemed like a caricature. When I would see flashes of normalcy—Weir wearing Vaurnets or drummer Bill Kreutzmann wearing a sports jersey—these felt more like cracks in the fourth wall than anything else. If you want an idea of how my brain works, that last sentence is a good indicator.

It didn’t help that my high school was divided by sonic tribal identity, with very little crossover. Oil and water for sure. There were the occasional exceptions—turns out the possibility of getting high works great as an emulsifier—but by and large those red lines held. People super into the Dead were not the same people I was seeing at hardcore shows.

Flash forward a few years, and I find myself listening… and it’s not terrible? I never got to see the band play live, but they sure sound good at full blast as you’re barreling across the Mojave Desert, that much I can tell you. Maybe that’s all it took, but I was in. I can’t claim any sort of Deadhead status (or whatever). The best I can claim is a sort of fellow traveler status, and that’s probably good enough.

The records all grew on me. Distilled down, a lot of them work great as pop songs. I don’t mean that as a “hot take,” but it’s hard to ignore when viewed through a structural lens. Chris’s point above is well taken (and I love the typo- was it intentional? The internet never tells). They don’t ramble off into Neverland. There’s no 15-minute walkabouts—those were saved for the stadiums. Speaking of which, in my world, the live shows went from fodder for inside jokes between friends to half-serious conversations about the pros/cons of various shows.

When we’d get a loaner car with Sirius, I’d find myself turning the dial to channel 23 more often than not. Eighteen-year-old me wouldn’t have recognized that sentence. At all.

In 2026, we’re longing for community and IRL experiences. Dead Heads have been doing that for decades. No blue screens, and the only “content” being created was via a tape recorder.


Last October, I got to go home and see my beloved Oregon Ducks play. I was excited to see my family and be back in Autzen (it never rains there, you see). The promo tie-in was Dead-themed. Anytime I go home, it’s good for 10 points off my blood pressure, but being in the stands with my kids and family made it even more so. As they played various tracks, I thought, “This rules.” That’s absolutely something 18-year-old me would’ve recognized.

As “Althea” rang out, somebody mentioned it being their favorite, and I thought about what mine might be. “Althea’s” there, I ‘spose. “Friend of the Devil,” too. My lunchbox has a Shakedown Man sticker. “Touch of Grey” makes a good case. I know that’ll raise some hackles. “West L.A. Fadeaway” as well. No deep-cut picks this time—I still don’t know any.

Speaking of the team, I was wearing my “Grateful Ducks” sweatshirt when their season came to an inglorious end last Friday. My usual lucky shirt, too. But even that wasn’t enough to stop the mighty IU. I wonder what the Dead think of such things? Maybe at this point there’s nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile.

The next day on Bluesky, someone mentioned hearing the band during the Rams game, and that was how they learned of Weir’s passing. Reading their post was how I learned. The song? “West L.A. Fadeaway,” of course…

RIP Bob.

​As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

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In Conversation With: Winged Wheel

Members of the band stop by to discuss their latest record and what’s next.

Photo: Katy McElroy

Good morning!

We’re in for a treat today! Members of Winged Wheel—one of my fave discoveries of the last few years stop by to chat.


The pitch: An “experimental super-band” comprised of Whitney Johnson (Matchess, Circuit des Yeux), Cory Plump (Spray Paint, co-owner of the dream venue Tubby’s), Matthew J. Rolin (solo guitar wizard and half of the Powers/Rolin Duo), Steve Shelley (Sonic Youth), Lonnie Slack (Water Damage), and Fred Thomas (Idle Ray, Tyvek), Winged Wheel is a creatively and geographically scattered collective, with each player living in a different city and bringing their own unique element to the group’s interpersonal alchemy.

The first record (2022’s No Island) was a product of file trading, with each band member living in a different city and sending in their own part to be assembled later. The result: a record they describe as “accidentally really good” (my take: yes), with its high-voltage kosmische-meets-jam-band vibes. 2024’s Big Hotel was one of my sleeper picks for AOTY, with “Sleeptraining” easily one of my most-played tracks.


When I first heard a new record was inbound, I was excited. As each single rolled out, that excitement only grew. A few weeks ago, I mentioned that I was going to be obnoxious about it, but also wondered whether the record would live up to whatever bar I’d set in my head. Spoiler: it totally does. In last week’s Sound Advice column, I wrote “[where] intensity is still very much there, with layers of synths, walls of noise, and unfamiliar sounds. The band has mentioned trying to balance excitement and tension, and it shows. Things move a little slower here, and the hits come a little harder.”

I ended that piece by noting Desert So Green “is yet another evolution from a collective that has made that their stock-in-trade. It’s not always the easiest listen, but for those who make the effort, the payoff is enormous.”

Having listened to it a bunch since then, I’d only double down on that assessment.

I recently had a chance to chat with band members Fred Thomas and Matthew Rolin via email. In our wide-ranging discussion, we talked about the band’s origin story, the record, and what’s coming next. Our chat has only been lightly edited for grammar and flow.

KA—


Congrats on the new record! Can you walk us through the backstory of how this project came together?

Fred Thomas: It’s been a very unusual path! The easiest way to explain the band is as a series of unexpected outcomes. It started as a remote recording project when everyone was locked down heavy in 2020, and that unexpectedly resulted in a really interesting first album, 2022’s No Island. When shows started happening again, Cory asked Steve if he’d want to sit in with us. He said he’d be down, which was unexpected, and we all got together in person to record the jams and ideas that became 2024’s Big Hotel. I think after that recording session, none of us really expected to play live, but we quickly started touring and operating like a traditional band, even though we all live in different places and come together around the conceptual entity of Winged Wheel.


Big Hotel was the on-ramp for many people. What should they expect this time around?

FT: The only goal we had for making the new record was that it be completely different than the last. Where Big Hotel was cauterized together from hours of jams and searching, Desert So Green was collectively designed in the studio, with structure and composition playing a much larger role. It’s still the result of searching, but there’s a lot more group intention here.

Matthew Rolin: If Big Hotel was the on-ramp, then I would say Desert So Green is reaching a foreign, yet familiar, place. You’re not sure if you are close to the destination yet, but you’ve just stumbled across something that is interesting enough to stop and check out.

Desert So Green is described as an album that spends its duration struggling to balance a scale with excitement on one side and anxious tension on the other. Say more, please.

FT: Listening to the album, it might be difficult to pin down exactly how it makes you feel at any given moment. There are pretty parts, but they’re always a little bit shaky. There’s sections of peaceful drone, but fried undercurrents are always there, too. Nothing fully resolves, and it’s almost like the songs stubbornly don’t allow themselves to be just punky rippers or meditative zoners, or anything singular. Whatever dominant energy is present, its agitated foil is always nearby.

MR: That’s life (mine at least). As far as how it relates to the music, I take it as this ever-present undercurrent that gets under your skin. Even the prettiest songs on the album have some of what I’m talking about. Sometimes it’s drones, sometimes it’s sharp, unfamiliar noises, but they are always there to add to the song and maybe mess a little with expectations.


I can hear a few different artists that might’ve been an influence, and everyone here has an impressive CV. That said, were there any specific bands informing the sound?

FT: We’re all huge music listeners and absorbers, so specific influences would be next to impossible to list. That said, while we were making the record, we all noticed there were some accidental similarities to Slint’s Spiderland here and there. That wasn’t so much an intentional homage as something that showed up once the dust settled and was interesting to observe.

MR: Like what Fred said, we all listen to probably too much music, so it’s impossible to pin it even on a dozen bands/artists. That being said, this time I found our CAN-style approach to recording to be tightened up. For Big Hotel, we just hit record and let it rip. This time, various members contributed demos and ideas beforehand, so we had a skeleton to fill out while in the studio.


For anyone new to Winged Wheel, what’s the one thing you hope they walk away with?

FT: Each of our three records so far has had wildly different tonalities and sound worlds while remaining somewhat connected to a blurry type of grand vision. Desert So Green is the most restrained and layered Winged Wheel album yet, so it would be great if listeners could tune into some of the deeper waves and movement that happened in the recording this time around.

MR: I hope they can see how amazed we all are that this band even exists. We are all playing music that I don’t think anyone in the band would come up with alone. A true collaboration!


By the time people read this, you will be touring Europe. Besides Big Ears at the end of March, are there any plans for stateside shows?

FT: Things keep on coming up unexpectedly, so it’s very likely there will be more on the books soon. As of this moment, however, nothing is planned past Big Ears.


Last one, just for fun; I bump into you as you walk out of the record store. What records are you carrying?

FT: Each member of the band would be carrying a completely different selection, and it wouldn’t make even a shred of sense to anyone outside of the Winged Wheel bubble. There’d be some Cumbia records, some Bakersfield-style country, a Beatles rarities box set, some microtonal organ music, and probably a Velvet Underground bootleg as well.

MR: As someone who just moved several times in the last few years… I am carrying the money I just got from selling my entirely too large and too heavy record collection and walking straight to the chiropractor.


Listen:

Winged Wheel | Desert So Green (2026)

Right-click the record to listen via Bandcamp.

Desert so Green is out now via 12XU. You can grab your copy here.

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Thank you to Matthew & Fred for their time, and thank you for being here.

Kevin—

Discussion: What’re You Listening To?

Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.

For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.

As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!

When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:

I hope this finds you well is the ultimate cliché when it comes to openers. But no, really—how are you? How are you holding up? Life’s never easy. But 2026 has been an 12-day pressure test. It seems weird to put out playlists and write about records in a time like this, but also completely normal. One of the foundations of this nation has always been that tomorrow will be better. That aspiration found its way into every corner of life here. It’s hard to see that as an ongoing concern—and, anecdotally, a bit bewildering to realize that life goes on. I had that revelation driving home after dropping our car off at the shop. Oil changes and interval checks? Now?! Apparently so. More importantly, as bad as things are, nothing is a foregone conclusion. There is still so much we can do.

There’s zero historical context for any of the last couple of weeks, but we’ve always leaned into music when things get sketchy. Indeed, this nation’s entire history has been soundtracked; from fifes and drums during the Revolutionary War to Woody Guthrie, to RATM during the Bush Sr. era, and on to today. It also serves as both a respite and fuels resolve. It’s always seemed like anything’s possible when you’ve got something good playing.

This week, Dan Epstein touched on that using Curtis Mayfield as an example, highlighting his 1971 track “Keep On Keeping On,” writing:

Curtis went to his untimely grave believing that, for all of humanity’s myriad faults and fuckups and self-inflicted tragedies, we still have the potential to get our collective shit together. He also knew that no one was coming to save us, and that we’d have to do it ourselves and within our own communities before we could bring about any lasting and meaningful changes at the national or global level. But he damn well believed that it was still possible.

I do too, Curtis. Even after this past week.

Same here. I went with “Move On Up,” a track that to my ear feels both impossibly sunny and makes one feel like at the sky’s the limit. Besides Curtis, we’ve got some brand new blistering hot sounds from up here in Madison, a bit of shoegaze from the Second City (at least Bears fans have a little something to celebrate?), and the usual dose of sonic comfort food. There’s also a couple of Grateful Dead tracks in the mix. RIP Bob Weir.

And for anyone that feels helpless right now and wonders what they can do, there are plenty of options for every ability and every level of risk tolerance. The only non-starter is doing nothing.

KA—

P.S. A few of you have asked if I sequence these as if they’re an album or mixtape. The answer is always “yes.” In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…

This week, side A is tracks 1-12, with Side B being 13-27.

P.P.S What song defined 2025 for you? Tell me about it here. Thank you to everyone who has responded so far. Please keep ‘em comin’!

On to the music…

Other sources: Qobuz | YouTube Music | Apple Music

Now it’s your turn.

Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!

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