Your Life is Not Going to Change Because of a New Band
One of the double edged swords of lifelong music fandom is always wanting to hear something new, something that blows you away, something that changes your life in the way that bands did when you were like 20 years old. Maybe it’s the same, and for the same reasons as why it’s hard to make friends when you’re middle aged; you’ve seen it all before, you don’t have time to sort through the good and the bad, you are fine with what/who you already know.
I can’t speak as well to new friendships, but when it comes to new music, I know that it’s mostly it’s finding watered down versions of bands you already know and like. And then sometimes it happens that you find something good and new and you’re ready to give it another try. For me, a couple of recent examples are Chicago’s Lifeguard or Pittsburgh’s feeble little horse. They each found a way to walk that magical line between familiarity and doing something new, each within indie rock’s restrictions.
First, Lifeguard. Its Dressed in Trenches came across my ears via SiriusXM and I was drawn to the droning/spiraling guitar, long dynamic builds, and off-center rhythms. This is a record that sounds like a band playing within eyesight of each other, bouncing ideas and sounds and jagged riffs around, tight enough with changes but rambling enough to feel spontaneous. No surprise that it was recorded at Electrical Audio in Chicago, but plenty surprising that this is music made by teenagers still in high school. Something that makes me think about Squirrel Bait and how that band of teenagers went on to change the possibilities of underground sounds. Probably getting ahead of myself on that, but Lifeguard’s post-punk fits alongside Unwound, the Jesus Lizard, and the lowest low-end of Sonic Youth.
I’m easily influenced sometimes: feeble little horse’s deconstructed shoegaze noise had enough of an effect on me that I went chasing lofi noise guitar sounds and pedals for my own music. This band was getting so much hype that right before its sophomore record Girl With Fish came out, they shut everything down — canceled their tour, posted a long note on social media thanking each person on their team — for mental health reasons.
So listening to them has that added weight of guilt that perhaps it was so good that it crushed them under the weight of expectations. It’s controlled chaos and My Bloody Valentine-style chopped up feedback and guitars played like keyboard with bassist/vocalist Lydia Slocum at the center of the storm. Debts are owed to shoegazers like the Swirlies and Lilys, but are paid in full.
