Wild Pink Bring New Muscularity to The Independent For Two Sold-Out Shows

Photo Credit: Fire Talk Records

During the early days of Wild Pink, the heartland rock band won a loyal following for making music both devastatingly earnest and exceedingly delicate. Led by the soft cooing of chief songwriter (and sole permanent member) John Ross, the group created worlds of fragile beauty, imbued by quiescent synths and plaintive piano pieces. 

As such, Wild Pink studio albums were drenched in somnambulant atmospherics and wistful, gossamer thin assemblies. The hushed nature of the songs and their multilayered production methods, however, made it difficult for Ross and company to faithfully replicate that sound in a live setting. And with the band touring increasingly more behind a steady output of great albums, being able to authentically transfer the sounds of the studio onto the stage took on greater importance for Ross.

The result of that redirected philosophy was last year’s majestically weighty album, “Dulling the Horns.” Easily the heaviest record in the band’s oeuvre, “Dulling the Horns” finds Wild Pink exploring chugging guitar riffs, feedback-laden dissonance and cascades of metallic sonic manipulations. Wild Pink might have once moved like a lithe featherweight, but now the band has bulked up into the heavyweight division, and audiences are hearing the fully realized sounds of a group embracing its muscularity.

“I think ‘Dulling the Horns’ came from me feeling kind of frustrated with how I was doing some of the songs live,” said Ross. “There was some studio stuff that just didn’t translate—certainly my vocal delivery didn’t sound the same. I just wanted this album to feel fun—to have the record sound just like the live show. We haven’t really done that much before.”

On February 17 and 18, Wild Pink will bring that newfound heft to The Independent, where they will open for acclaimed singer-songwriter MJ Lenderman (it’s a lineup that truly deserves the title of dream billing.)

Ross and Wild Pink provided a glimpse into this bigger, denser approach with 2022’s “ILYSM,” a sprawling and adventurous album that delved into an array of industrial-leaning directions while topping out at the one-hour mark. But nothing on that release approaches the immensity of songs like “Cloud or Mountain” or “Disintegrate,” two standouts tracks from “Dulling the Horns” that act as sturdy exemplars of the album.

“Cloud or Mountain” starts off innocently enough with a string of brisk guitar strums, but at the 10-second mark the song collapses on itself, as those brief lilting moments are crushed by a wave of crunchy distortion. Much in the same vein is “Disintegrate,” which is marked by stomping kickdrums, thick basslines and grunge guitar aesthetics (also, saxophones!) On the latter song, Ross pushes his vocals into a new register, evoking an urgency and desperation not often heard in other Wild Pink tunes. He said that track was inspired by “Save it for Later,” a jaunty number by new wave legends the English Beat.

“’Disintegrate’ is definitely one of my favorite songs on the album,” said Ross. “Again, it was about just having fun making a song. I really wanted to embrace that approach for the album.”

That feeling of levity is noticed throughout “Dulling the Horns,” a reaction of sorts to the stern and serious undertones of “ILYSM.” A confrontation with his 2022 cancer diagnosis, “ILYSM” was understandably anguished thematically and lyrically (Ross is now cancer-free and healthy.) 

“Dulling the Horns” is more relaxed and jocular, evidenced by songs like the “Eating the Egg Whole,” a skittering, quick-moving piece that references late 90s sports arcana, including commentary on Michael Jordan’s iconic wardrobe choices.

Ironically, Lenderman wrote a similarly wry ode to His Airness back in 2022, when he penned the “Hangover Game,” a hilariously conspiratorial take on Jordan’s heroic “Flu Game” in the 1997 NBA Finals.

“You know, I told him I had not heard his song yet when I wrote ‘Eating the Egg Whole’—I swear that was just a coincidence,” said Ross. “That said, I’m sure we’re going to have plenty of conversations about 90s NBA basketball.”

Jordan is among a number of famous (and infamous) persons that populate “Dulling the Horns,” with Ross also name-checking David Koresh, Lefty Ruggiero and the death cult Heaven’s Gate. Ross said there was no grand narrative tying everyone together (an idea that Jordan would likely appreciate, given the sordid reputations of the others.)

“Sometimes songs make more sense after the fact,” said Ross. “I don’t really know why those people and names popped up in my brain. It’s just really fun to write about other people, to kind of turn attention away from yourself for a moment.”

That sense of seeking joy is consistently cited by Ross when describing the entire infrastructure of “Dulling the Horns”—from the cheeky, impish tales that account for the lyrical output of the album, to the blown-out sound that makes for a raucous, rocking live show. Based on the euphoric reaction to the album—it was lauded by critics and named best rock record of the year by Paste Magazine—Ross’ blissful instincts have paid off.

After surviving such an intense health scare, it’s no surprise that Ross is eager to embrace a lighter, more easy going attitude—a feeling that can be easily transferable to the crowds assembled at Wild Pink shows, now that the band has a more honed formula for bringing their music to the masses.  

“I feel very fucking lucky—like I dodged a bullet,” said Ross. “I didn’t have to do chemo or anything dramatic like that. It really inspired me to appreciate what I have—to keep my output high and really make music that’s fun to listen to. I’ve made challenging records. Now I’m here for the fun ones.”

Show Details:
Wild Pink with MJ Lenderman and the Wind
Where: The Independent 
When: 8 p.m., Monday, February 17 and Tuesday, February 18
Tickets: Sold Out!

Will Oldham Fittingly Brings Tales of Grace to Show at Grace Cathedral

Photo Credit: David Kasnic

Tucked quietly near the end of “The Purple Bird,”—the latest album from folk-rock troubadour Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, aka Will Oldham—is an austere, finger-picked cover song of the 1980 gospel standard, “Is My Living in Vain,” originally recorded by The Clark Sisters.

A hushed and devastating testament to the power of the righteous struggle, the track acts as a serene call to stay strong despite all life’s challenges, and serves as a centerpiece of “The Purple Bird.” 

Prior to his graceful cover song, Oldham populates the album with his typical collection of absurdist characters and vignettes, ridiculing and lambasting the hypocrisy and selfishness prevalent in so many elements of our society while painting a portrait of a modern day culture that is both hilarious and horrifying.

And while the album has plenty of earnest moments, none quite touch the plaintive beauty of “Is My Living in Vain,” with Oldham delivering the chorus in a defiantly triumphant tone, stating eloquently, “No, of course not/It's not all in vain.”

“If anyone is questioning by the time they get to the 11th song on this album, how the hell does anyone keep their optimism, that track provides the answer,” said Oldham. “It’s because that optimism is born out of necessity. There is almost no other choice.” 

On Saturday, Oldham will bring those tunes to San Francisco, playing a Folk Yeah-produced show at the Grace Cathedral Church—a strangely fitting venue for an album anchored by beguilingly hopeful undertones.

Produced in Nashville, “The Purple Bird” contains all the classic elements of a record made by Oldham, who has recorded under a myriad of monikers, including the Palace Brothers, Palace Music, Superwolf and his own name. The album is filled with quirky Americana adjacent and gospel-tinged elements, bolstered at all times by Oldham’s soulful, quavering vocals and his unique characterizations of modern day life.

Never an overtly political songwriter, Oldham takes a more direct approach on “The Purple Bird,” writing painful laments on environmentalism (“Downstream”) while devilishly skewering the nation’s obsessions with firearms (“Guns Are For Cowards.”) The latter tune is a jaunty, lilting jig with shockingly direct lyrics (“Who would you shoot in the face?/Who would you shoot in the brain?”), offering a bracing juxtaposition for the strange acceptance we have for gun violence.

“There are some people who like to fight for something, and some people who just like to fight,” said Oldham. “There seems to be a significant portion of our population of our country that is just bred to fight. They’re the fighter ants of our colony.”

While “The Purple Bird” is filled with weighty themes, it’s still an Oldham production, so there are plenty of impish, ribald tunes, evoking the rapscallion nature of 70s outlaw country tunes. “The Water’s Fine” is a banjo-powered ode to the wonders of washing away your worries in the local swimming hole, while “Tonight With The Dogs I’m Sleeping,” is an uproarious recollection of drinking too much and having hell to pay from your old lady. 

With its familiar mantras (“Never liked sleeping out in the yard/But crawling up the stairs is too damn hard”) “Tonight With the Dogs I’m Sleeping,” feels like a lost B-side from a dusty cowboy bar single.

“There were four of us just sitting around the kitchen table and that song kind of just started happening,” said Oldham. “I mean, nobody spoke aloud the name Hank Williams, but we were all thinking it. Everyone was probably, consciously or subconsciously, aware that we were expanding upon the concept that Hank had tackled so well with ‘Moving on Over.’”

Although his twangy voice and his comfort with traditional American instruments (fiddles, slide guitars, mandolins) would make Oldham a natural for the Nashville scene where “The Purple Bird” was created, he’s never been one for conformity. A true outsider, Oldham grew up in the punk environs of Louisville (he’s childhood friends with the members of the legendary post-rockers Slint), and has always zigged and zagged throughout his career, departing from certain sounds, concepts and approaches right when listeners might have him pegged.

In many ways, “The Purple Bird,” is the latest example of that slippery nature. In these ridiculous times, when the baseline assumption is that music should reflect an angry and wrathful reaction to oligarchy, cruelty and bigotry, Oldham has created an album asking for grace. “The Purple Bird” is not an apologist tract for any of today’s loathsome behavior, but it does imply a somber plea for unity.

That sentiment is best captured in the understated beauty of the album’s opening track, “Turned to Dust (Rolling On),” an irony-free paean to the notion that our similarities are stronger than our differences. In that track, Oldham sings “If we rely on love to lift us higher/Things'll be all right for you and me.” 

It is simple and schmaltzy and saccharine and also undeniably true. When Oldham delivers that line, it really feels like has no option but to believe in that kind of beauty.

Show Details: 
Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy with David Ferguson
Where: Grace Cathedral Church 
When: 8 p.m., Saturday, February 8 
Tickets: $58, available here.

Lucky–the latest brainchild of musicians Andrew St. James and Peter Kegler–to play at the Independent on January 11

The Lucky Horseshoe is not a glamorous place. 

A dive located in Bernal Heights—one of San Francisco’s less glitzier neighborhoods—the bar is a nondescript joint where locals can stop by for a few beers and a couple rounds of pool. The lighting is nice and dim, the drinks are reasonably priced, and the crowds are manageable. There is a small stage where you might hear a cover band playing David Bowie tunes or an old-timer riffing out the blues.

And on any given night, you might find Andrew St. James and Peter Kegler ponied up to the bar, nursing a beer and having a chat. The unassuming, yeoman nature of the Lucky Horseshoe makes for an ideal locale for the two veteran San Francisco musicians, which is why it’s no surprise that they opted to name their latest project—Lucky—after the venerable institution. 

Both have put in plenty of hours grinding it out as a working musician. While St. James still hasn’t reached 30 years of age, he’s been plying the trade nearly half his life, starting off as a teenage wunderkind recording under his own name while also performing in outfits like Juan Wayne, Fast Times and the French Cassettes. Similarly, Kegler has a lengthy resume of artistic ventures, playing with bands such as Half Stack, Babewatch and Share.

As a result, the pair have a unique view into the itinerant nature that’s inherent with being a working musician—the joy of playing raucous late-night gigs with your best friends in strange cities and the subsequent hangovers and uncertainties of the day after. That restlessness and wayfaring energy is captured gloriously in Lucky’s first collection of songs—a seven-song album that is due to be released in early 2025. 

“When Andrew and I became buddies and started working on this project, we were both going through some transitional times, which is kind of natural for what we do,” said Kegler. “It was almost like a molting phase—this shedding of layers. There were a lot of changes happening to both of us, and I think that’s clearly reflected in the music.

On January 11, Lucky will play those tunes of modern day drifters at the Independent as part of a support gig for the French Cassettes (St. James will be playing double duty that night.)

While both are stalwarts of the local music scene, Kegler and St. James didn’t actually become acquainted with each other until the tail end of 2022. St. James, who has been running a regular music booking residency for years under his Fast Times moniker, enlisted Half Stack for a gig at the Rickshaw Stop. He and Kegler hit it off while at the show and after a few drinks, committed to playing with one another in the future.

“Andrew can probably attest to this as well, but I’ve had that same conversation a million times before with other musicians,” said Kegler. “Like, ‘oh dude, I love your band, we should make music together,’ but then nothing ever happens. But this was the real thing—I think that’s a testament to how aligned we are on our approach to music.”

Prior to committing in earnest to collaborating together, the two had plenty of written material already in the works, which they brought collectively to the partnership. And despite existing in some forms before the band, the songs on Lucky’s debut album feel remarkably cohesive and natural—a testament to St. James and Kegler’s creative chemistry.

While both are Bay Area natives—St. James grew up in San Francisco and Kegler is from Orinda—there is a decidedly bucolic feel to the Lucky songs. St. James has an inherent twang that imbues his songs with a countryish vibe—more Bakersfield bard than Haight street hippie—and Kegler’s plainspoken approach has a similarly high-desert plains appeal.

Their album kicks off with Kegler taking the lead on “Falling Through,” a whirling, lilting jaunt about underachievement and disappointment that sounds like Merle Haggard injected with a high voltage shot of the Pixies. It sets the tone for a collection of songs that map out the highs and lows of relationships, the tenuous nature of being a creative person and the general volatility of post-pandemic life.

“Traveler” is a gorgeous, urgent Americana tune, with St. James extolling the virtues of wide-eyed wonder—a paean to the joy and discovery of not knowing what the next day will bring. Similarly, “Friends” is a gloriously raucous ode to hellcat living—a collection of blurry barroom memories and booze-soaked backstage reveries, with St. James highlighting the song by stating the obvious—“Believe it or not/I don’t think we’re too well/as far as minds go.”

“The lyrics in ‘Friends,’ are mostly me just writing things that I literally witnessed,” said St. James. “There is a lot of hassle in this kind of lifestyle, but there is also so much to celebrate. That song is about remembering what this is all about and that’s the people. Like, it's all about the people you do this with, and the people do you this for. This is a people job, and I love that.”

But the album isn’t simply an unflinching exultation to excess—far from it. Following the one-two roar of “Traveler” and “Friends,” is Kegler’s austere “Lines,” a beautiful ballad that captures the headaches and heartbreak that inevitably comes with a nomadic life—a mournful elegy about lost time and missed opportunities. In a related vein is “Colder,” a lamentation about dishonesty, shame and taking things for granted, made all the more sorrowful by St. James’ cracked delivery. It recalls the haunted majesty of Magnolia Electric Company’s Jason Molina (a noted inspiration for the album.)

The songs are rife with references to motion—whether it's barreling down highways, navigating city streets or feeling forlorn on the back of a bus. Those extracts are literal—so much of a musician’s life is in transit—as well as figurative—apt metaphors and analogies to relate a general feeling of disquiet.

“This is kind of the reality of our life,” said St. James. “Peter has had a lot of projects he’s worked on; I’ve had a ton of projects. You’re always finishing one thing and starting another thing. There is always an end and then a beginning—a changing of circumstance or focus. I’m sure, subconsciously, that bleeds into how we both write our songs.”

With that in mind, St. James and Kegler both seem realistically grounded but cautiously optimistic about the future of Lucky. They’re exploring label options for the release of their album (which is still untitled) and are committed to playing more shows in the future. They’re discussing the possibility of releasing a single following their gig at the Independent while also exploring other options to promote the project. 

Until then, the duo will continue to catalog and collect the moments that make their music so worthwhile—those twilit times in an empty bar or the epiphanic moments when the sun shines through on a California coastal highway. 

“We started this thing off just writing songs together and they were kind of an amalgamation of our styles,” said Kegler. “We didn’t have a lot of conversations about the future of the band at first, but I think we both believe in this project. This is a real band—this is a real thing. And we’re looking forward to seeing what happens next.”

Show Details: 
Lucky with French Cassettes and Tino Drima
Where: The Independent
When: 9 p.m., Saturday, January 11
Tickets: $20 plus fees, available here.

Broken Dreams Club Best Local Albums of 2024

We are incredibly blessed to have such a vibrant music scene here in San Francisco. Here were my favorite albums from local acts in 2024 (in alphabetical order.)

April Magazine – Wesley’s Convertible Tape for the South: Languorous and soporific, the songs of April Magazine unfold humbly, slowly emerging from a hiss of lo-fi environs to reveal something eerily beautiful. On this latest collection from Peter Hurley and company, April Magazine sound ghostly and insouciant—like if Suicide was beguilingly hopeful. It makes for an unstoppable collage of atmospheric echoes.

Al Harper – The Analemma Observation League: A luminescent collection of Laurel Canyon style rock songs, the “Analemma Observation League” is an engaging and fruitful journey through the California heartland. Bolstered by buoyant, shimmering keyboards and Harper’s confident delivery, the songs feel like throwbacks to the polished studio albums of the 70s, evoking everything from Fleetwood Mac to Dolly Parton to Kate Bush. 

Chime School – The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel: From the Broken Dreams Club archive: “‘The Boy Who Ran The Paisley Hotel’ features plenty of Pastalaniec’s penchant for buoyant earworm masterpieces, with singles such as “Give Your Heart Away” and “Wandering Song” feeling like lost B-sides to the debut album. There are familiar touchpoints for the record—80s UK rockers East Village and Glaswegian legends Teenage Fanclub, for example—but tracks such as “The End” and, in particular, album closer, “Points of Light,” offer a tantalizing new direction for Chime School, one imbued with melancholy and jagged dissonance.”

Cindy—Swan Lake: From the Broken Dreams Club archive: “No band has done more to draw attention to San Francisco’s nascent “fog pop” scene than Cindy, the brainchild of singer-songwriter Karina Gill. Characterized by hushed vocals, unhurried, ambling tempos and proudly lo-fi recording techniques, Cindy’s songs evoke that vivid, dusky moment when one first wakes up, still half-immersed in a dream.” 

Flowertown – Tourist Language: A combination of Tony Jay’s Michael Ramos and Cindy’s Karina Gill, Flowertown is unsurprisingly hushed and enigmatic. Like a whispered conversation overheard outside a bar on a drizzly, quiet night, “Tourist Language” hints at something deeper without revealing too much.

Tony Jay – Knife is But a Dream: Tony Jay’s Michael Ramos likes to dress up in Kiss clothing, but there is nothing theatrical or pyrotechnic about his outfit’s shadowy, lo-fi aesthetic. Like April Magazine and Cindy, Ramos strips down songs to their bare elements—skeletal outlines that resonate all the more because of their austere bareness.

Sad Eyed Beatniks – Ten Brocades: The founder of Paisley Shirt Records, the highly influential local label home to numerous bands on this list, Kevin Linn also fronts the Sad Eyed Beatniks. On “Ten Brocades,” Linn and company once again embrace the demo-style recording approach that’s so pervasive in the San Francisco scene, exploring elements of psych, garage rock and post-punk through a fuzzy, squalling lens. 

Silverware—One True Light: From the Broken Dreams Club archive: “One True Light” is humble, yet ethereal—grounded in a DIY ethos but also uplifted by Wagoner’s boundless talent and technical expertise. It is secular spiritual creation, an ambitious concept album of sorts that combines Wagoner’s varied influences—everything from the experimental noise bands she played in college to her formative years spent in the church. Flitting between art-rock, synth pop and indie-folk, the album recalls acts such as Indigo de Souza, Bat for Lashes and Chairlift (Caroline Polachek’s pre-breakthrough outfit.) It’s a powerful statement from a musician who draws just as comfortably from Sonic Youth as she does from hymns.”

The Umbrellas – Fairweather Friend: Coming off their stunning 2021 self-titled debut, the Umbrellas somehow manage to elevate their game for their sophomore release. The hooks are bigger, the melodies sunnier and the songs catchier. Like their Slumberland Records brethren, Chime School, the Umbrellas mine the janglepop and indie-twee influences of 90s Britain to come up with a formula that is undeniably effervescent and enjoyable.

Yea-Ming and the Rumors – I Can’t Have it All: This outfit on Dandy Boy Records makes clear, sparkly Americana pop concoctions with distinct underpinnings of wistful sadness. Led by Yea-Ming Chen, this latest album recalls acts like Camera Obscura and Rilo Kiley, flitting seamlessly between fragile, delicate moments and defiant, vibrant ones.

Broken Dreams Club 10 Best Songs of 2024

#10 Grandaddy – You’re Going to Be Fine, I’m Going to Hell: The bard of Modesto, Jason Lytle is never finer than on this gloriously self-deprecating, “You’re Going to Be Fine, I’m Going to Hell,” another example of his heartfelt, forlorn poetry belying his tough guy Central Valley exterior.

 #9 Porches – Music: What can I say, I’m a sucker for nostalgic ballads about the foolhardiness of loving rock n roll. Never change, Aaron Maine.

 #8 Been Stellar – Sweet: In which the youngsters from Been Stellar temporarily take a post-punk reprieve to indulge in a soaring Britpop number that would make Oasis proud.

 #7 Friko – Where We’ve Been: Few songs in the past decade have acted as a more appropriate album opener than this manifesto of an indie rock tune.

 #6 Cindy Lee – Government Cheque: A song ostensibly about living on the dole is transformed into a plaintive, haunting plea for desire and longing.

 #5 – MJ Lenderman – She’s Leaving You: Really, this could have been “Joker Lips” or “Wristwatch”—no one captures the existential angst of mundane living quite like Lenderman, who imbues a genuine sense of empathy into his lovable losers.

 #4 Christophe Owens – Do You Need a Friend: Owens channels the Beatles and his own past efforts with Girls on this orchestral tour-de-force about loneliness and heartache.

 #3 This is Lorelei – Dancing in the Club: Everyone who loves  this unstoppable piece of electronica can relate to Nate Amos’ defiant claim that he’s “a loser, always been.”

#2 Waxahatchee – Right Back To It: Almost a companion piece of “She’s Leaving You,” this snapshot of Southern-friend Americana is a glorious ode to the complexities of relationships.

 #1 This is Lorelei -- Where's Your Love Now: If he’s listening, The Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson would be proud of this cacophonous, lilting ballad of heartbreak, a treatise on rejection that doubles as Amos’ personal diary about his struggles with sobriety.

Broken Dreams Club 20 Best Albums of 2024

This was another great year for music! Some old faces returned to the scene and a cadre of new artists unveiled thrilling debuts, but 2024 belonged to one act in particular. Read more about the Broken Dreams Club Top 20 albums of the year: 

#20 Mount Eerie – Night Palace: Listening to Mount Eerie is like trekking through  a dark, wintry snowstorm. Waves of dissonance and distortion knife through somnambulant tunes, creating gusts of staticky inference that barely part ways for Phil Elverum’s quiet, spoken-word soliloquies. “Night Palace,” the latest release from the Pacific Northwest’s favorite songwriter, finds Elverum once again confronting life, death and everything in between. It is haunting, sad and scary, but—like the winter sun that eventually emerges after a blizzard—ultimately hopeful.

#19 Nilufer Yanya – My Method Actor: Yanya manages to pull off a tricky tightrope act on “My Method Actor”—she has created a mature, adult album that is neither boring nor saccharine. Channeling acts like Rhye and Sault—and above all, the legendary songstress Sade—Yanya writes shimmering, smooth love and breakup songs, adding enough wrinkles and nuances to update classic R&B sounds.

#18 Porches – Shirt: After positioning himself as a maven of icy, dispassionate synth pop with Porches albums like “Pool” and “The House”, Aaron Maine has steadily gone about unraveling that pristine persona. Ever eager to explore aggressive, unchecked sounds, Maine has reached a zenith with “Shirt,” a grungy, unhinged collection of headbanging rockers. Maine does manage to squeeze in a quiet, wistful piece among the blown-out sounds: album closer “Music,” a soft and poignant ode to the artform.

#17 Los Campesinos – All Hell: I did not have a triumphant comeback from Welsh indie rock heroes Los Campesinos on my bingo card for 2024, but here we are. The giddy, dancefloor-ready tunes that populated their early releases give way to weary, mordant reflections on mortality, middle class drudgery and corrupt politics on “All Hell,” the group’s first album in seven years. It might sound macabre, but Gareth David and company capture all those travails with an endearing sense of empathy—a lived-in and honest take from a band still surviving, nearly 20 years into their existence.

#16 Vince Staples – Dark Times: A quick peek through the archives will quickly reveal that Broken Dreams Club is not your go-to repository for hip-hop coverage, but I’ve always been a fan of this Los Angeles rapper, dating back to his thrillingly murky debut, “Summertime 06.” “Dark Times” captures much of that same aesthetic, with Staples reminiscing about past memories while confronting his current conditions, all to hazy, noir-ish beats

#15 Jessica Pratt – Here in the Pitch: You drink in this record like a dirty martini in an empty nightclub. These are songs for the shadows—for people at the far edge of the bar, just beyond the dim overhead lights. Pratt channels 60s pop melodies and adds her own dusky, woozy inflections, singing whiskey-soaked lullabies for the closing time patrons. 

#14 Ducks LTD—Harm’s Way: From the Broken Dreams Club archive: “McGreevy’s laconic, dry delivery and tales of urban ennui offer an intriguing contrast to the propulsive, upbeat backdrop of the band’s musical output—every song feels like an urgent race to nowhere in particular. That arresting tension is prevalent throughout “Harm’s Way,” which is replete with chugging, skittering songs littered with sardonic observations.”

#13 Being Dead – Eels: These cheeky rockers had one of the best debut albums in recent memory with last year’s brilliant, “When Horses Would Run,” and their follow-up record is equally as engaging. Combining the restless ebullience of The Unicorns with the garage-rock scrappiness of contemporaries Dehd, Being Dead create chugging, propulsive indie pop nuggets that are perfect for the open roads of desert highways or the beer-stained environs of your local DIY club. The gang vocals of Falcon Bitch and Shmoofy (formerly Gumball—yep these are their nom de plumes) add a strange sense of gravity to their goofy tales of everyday oddballs.

#12 Japandroids – Fate & Alcohol: Every six or seven years, Japandroids emerge from their hibernation in Canada (or others part of the world) to bless us with glorious songs extolling the delight and delirium of drinking with your pals until you’re braindead. Sadly, that streak ends in 2024. The Vancouver duo have announced that this will be their last album and to add insult to injury, the band will not be touring behind their final opus. While Brian King and David Prowse have clearly grown apart over the years (a distance likely amplified by King’s newfound sobriety), the band still has a manic energy that cannot be replicated. While it doesn’t quite reach the heights of 2012’s landmark album, “Celebration Rock,” “Fate & Alcohol” is filled with spitfire anthems about love, loss and, of course, getting blitzed with your best friends. Japandroids will be missed.

#11 Parannoul – Sky Hundred: In 2003, Anthony Gonzalez of M83 set the bar for gauzy shoegaze standards with the release of masterpiece, “Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts,” but Parannoul has been steadfastly chasing that sound for the past five years. The South Korean musician—who somehow still remains anonymous—blends feedback laden guitar with lo-fi MIDI sounds–and on Sky Hundred he once again effortlessly melds the outputs to addle the listener on what’s coming from where—the sign of a true shoegaze practitioner. 

#10 Oso Oso—Life Till Bones: Is there any current artist more consistent than Jade Lilitri? Every Oso Oso album is guaranteed to contain a litany of lean, pop-adjacent punk tunes that are as catchy as they are thoughtful. Never afraid to wear his heart on sleeve, Lilitri adroitly recounts tales of suburban heartbreak, reimagining Ted Leo as a perpetually lovetorn romantic.  

#9 Hovvdy – Hovvdy: Unassuming is probably not a band’s first choice for a descriptor but few words better summarize the gorgeous low-key nature of Austin duo Hovvdy. The vocals never rise much above a whisper on the band’s latest, self-titled, effort, recalling the quiet profundity of artists like Elliott Smith and recent Alex G. Whether acoustic ballads or piano numbers, the songs of Hovvdy envelope you like a warm summer breeze—a reminder of the importance of serenity and peace in turbulent times. 

#8 Been Stellar – Scream From New York, NY: From the Broken Dreams Club archive: “Like their NYC forebears, Been Stellar are masters at creating atmospheric, lived-in moods— although their references are forgotten museums, vacant parks, grimy train stations and empty streets, as opposed to dank dive bars and seedy clubs. With their origin story and bristly, post-punk sound, the band inevitably carry comparisons to NYC royalty such as Interpol, the Walkmen, and the Strokes, but Slocum’s loquacious, rangy delivery hews more closely to Elias Bender Rønnenfelt of Danish rockers Iceage, and the group’s maximalist approach evokes the great Austin act …And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead.” 

#7 Christopher Owens—I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair: From the Broken Dreams Club archive: Owens first solo album in nine years is the gorgeously emotive “I Wanna Run Barefoot Through Your Hair.”  A stunning achievement, the new collection of songs draw upon all the candor and self-reflection that made Girls so great, while also charting an intriguing new path forward for Owens.

#6 Wild Pink—Dulling the Horns: Few artists have been more consistently captivating than Wild Pink’s John Ross. Starting in earnest with 2018’s gorgeous “Yolk in the Fur,” Ross’ recent run of albums has never felt out of step, and in “Dulling the Horns,” the Wild Pink team once again puts forth a poignant and compelling compendium of heartland rock. Sharing M.J. Lenderman’s love for 90s sports arcana, Ross manages to find existential angst in very curious places. The most muscular Wild Pink album yet (“Cloud or Mountain” and “Disintegrate” both feel IMMENSE), the album is still anchored by Ross’ cooing vocals—gentle placation in a storm of big sounds. 

#5 MJ Lenderman – Manning Fireworks: This is an album for everyone who has a houseboat at the Himbo Dome, rents a Ferrari and thinks they can do a better job than the Pope. Essentially, every sad sack and deadbeat dude who has just a little bit of redemption in them. Somehow, MJ Lenderman—at the precocious age of 25—is able to eloquently capture the pain and pathos of these lovable midlife losers. Coming off his 2022 masterpiece, “Boat Songs,” Lenderman somehow elevates his formula of laconic indie rock nuggets again on “Manning Fireworks.” It’s a perfect combination of Jason Molina, Drive By Truckers and Archers of Loaf— all amplified by Lenderman’s trademark heart and greasy grit.

#4 Waxahatchee – Tigers Blood: It wasn’t too long that Katie Crutchfield was rightly being feted as indie rock’s next best thing. Albums like “Cerulean Salt” showcased her peerless ability to match disarming words with crunchy guitar sounds. But she’s clearly found her footing embracing the Americana flavor of her Southern roots. A companion piece to her 2020 standout “Saint Cloud,” “Tiger’s Blood” builds upon the Southern Gothic mythos established by the record. Always a perennially gifted lyricist, Crutchfield outdoes herself on her latest album, deftly matching feelings of aimlessness with the rangy, vast settings of rural America on tracks like “Lone Star Lake” and the title track. And then there is her tour-de-force duet with MJ Lenderman, “Right Back To It,” a swampy, drawling testament to the twin natures of relationships—doubt and acceptance.

#3 This is Lorelei – Box for Buddy, Box For Star: Nate Amos is on one here. The brilliant multi-instrumentalist has shown his talents in the past as 1/2 of the delightfully offbeat art rock group Water From Your Eyes, but the latest effort from his solo moniker showcases new facets of his outrageous range. A dizzying range of genres are explored here, from beers-in-your-teary country waltzes (“Angel’s Eye”) to Elliott Smith-indebted ballads (“Two Legs”) to slacker rock anthems (“I’m All Fucked Up”) to glittery synth pop bangers (“Dancing in the Club.”) At the center is the towering breakup elegy, “Where’s Your Love Now,” a Beach Boys-meets-Magnetic Fields masterpiece that is the finest song of 2024.

#2 Friko – Where We’ve Been, Where We Go Far From Here: From the Broken Dreams Club archive: “On the Chicago indie rock band’s glorious debut album, this year’s “Where We've Been, Where We Go from Here,” it’s impossible to get comfortable. Austere piano ballads are followed by breakneck post-punk thrashers. Kitchen-sink indie rock anthems sit side-by-side with humble guitar numbers and multi-suite baroque chamber pop epics give way to crashing, blown-out shoegaze pieces. It's a truly dizzying display of the band’s talents—one that shows an endlessly inventive approach to sonic structures while tracing a lyrical narrative that grapples with regret, memory and the ephemeral nature of passing time. Each song feels singular, yet part of a bold, cohesive  mission statement.”

#1 Cindy Lee – Diamond Jubilee: This is what it sounds like to capture the ghosts of 60s girl groups—a séance of the Crystals and the Supremes, refracted through the scratchy connection of a worn out FM radio tuner. These are songs to be heard from another room, a distant past—an entire lifetime ago. No record in the past decade has more unequivocally created a specific sense of atmosphere than this titanic triple album from the former lead singer of post-punk titans Women. Cindy Lee, the project of Patrick Flegel, incorporates elements of glam rock, power pop, doo-wop and indie, but all processed through an ethereal, phantasmic filter. There is an overwhelming sense of nostalgia on this album—but the cavernous, polar feel that accompanies each track makes that yearning feel all the more desperate and austere. Originally released solely through YouTube and a hilariously low tech GeoCities site, “Diamond Jubilee” plays out like a movie—a continuously cinematic and sweeping epic. Songs blend into another, bleeding from wounds pierced by Flegel’s masterful guitar playing and left weeping by their mournful wails. This is an album like no other—an alien, enlivening and thrilling testimony that proves music can still be an undefinable and glorious mystery.

Alicia Vanden Heuvel: A Bedrock of the Local Music Community

Few community ecosystems are as combustible and volatile as the ones surrounding local musicians.

Even during the best of times, before artistic endeavors had been commodified and marginalized by ravenous market forces, eking out a viable living as a full-time musician was a perilous act—an existence seemingly always threatened by an unscrupulous landlord or one unexpected illness. Cities that acted as magnets for creative types also inherently drew in other outside interests—ones with deeper pockets and different ideas for urban living—leading to ever-increasing rents and gentrification.

San Francisco has long been viewed as a test case for such conditions, yet despite the ever-changing nature of the city, it has continued to host engaging and vibrant musical scenes throughout its history (it’s really not even worth entertaining the tired, hackneyed statements arguing the opposite.)

To sustain something so powerful, yet also fragile, requires a communal spirit. These groupings do not survive on happenstance. They require dedicated, selfless and passionate advocates—people like Alicia Vanden Heuvel.

A lifelong musician who’s played starring and supporting roles in countless bands, Vanden Heuvel is also a producer, engineer and label owner—the rare someone who can provide insight about both esoteric recording techniques and the byzantine nature of the music business.

Since 2022, she has been managing Speakeasy Studios SF, a record label that caters to local artists. It bears the same name as the recording studio that she’s operated since 1996 (with a few breaks here and there.) The recording studio is donation-based for the musicians who work with Vanden Heuvel.

“I try to be very intentional with my work—I really admire the idea of being of service to others,” said Vanden Heuvel. “It’s a very challenging time right now, and I’m just trying to foster some sense of hope by helping out other musicians. I want to be able to help—to make things just a little bit better and easier for my community.”

Running a label and recording studio seems like the logical next step for Vanden Heuvel, who’s been involved in music for nearly her entire life. Growing up in the small town of Desert Hot Springs near the Mojave Desert, Vanden Heuvel was raised by a musical family. By the time she was in high school, she was eager to share her considerable keyboard skills with the nearby bands, but since many of them were of the stoner metal vein (think Kyuss), she didn’t quite match their needs. 

In 1992, she enrolled at UC-Santa Cruz, and quickly found a more like-minded group of compatriots, which included Becky Barron and Stephen Vesecky. Together, they formed Poundsign, a wistful, dreamily lo-fi pop group. That outfit attracted a dedicated cult following, and helped set the template for so much of the sound that Vanden Heuvel would explore in the future. Employing skills that she was honing at the time as part of her film school studies, Vanden Heuvel took on production responsibilities for the band—her first foray into the kind of studio roles that would be her trademark. Poundsign also afforded Vanden Heuvel a precocious insight into what dynamics are necessary to make a band work. 

“I feel like what I really studied in college was how to be in a band,” said Vanden Heuvel. “One year we toured the States in Stephen’s Volvo and the next year we went in my Ford Escort. “We would map out our tour based on wherever we were playing on college radio stations. We ended up playing with a lot of punk bands at that time, which was interesting, since we were a pop group. But it was an incredible experience to be doing that at such a young age.”

After graduating from college, Vanden Heuvel moved to San Francisco and linked up with AV Linton, a talented songwriter then playing in the noise group Henry’s Dress. With that act winding down, Linton suggested forming a new band with Vanden Heuvel, a group that eventually became The Aislers Set. 

Celebrated by luminaries such as British DJ John Peel, The Aislers Set acted as a staple of the legendary Oakland label Slumberland Records and evolved into a massively influential band. The group’s janglepop sound—shaped in large part by Linton and Vanden Heuvel’s’s production skills and multi-instrumental talents—still looms large in the San Francisco scene, with bands such as the Umbrellas and Chime School citing them as influences. 

With The Aislers Set going on hiatus in 2003, Vanden Heuvel continued to play in an array of different San Francisco bands (Dirty Ghosts, Brigid Dawson & the Mothers Network, and Magic Trick, to name a few) acting as a bedrock of an ever-evolving and shifting music community. She also opened the doors of her self-made studio located in the basement of her (rent-controlled) apartment, providing an oasis for bands looking for affordable technical insight and support. 

“I never wanted to charge anyone to use my studio,” said Vanden Heuvel, who mentioned that donations are always welcome, as they help with studio upkeep of the analog equipment. “I view this as an extension of my artwork. We usually have a conversation beforehand about how this is an artistic collaboration. It’s the same thing as painting a mural together.”

Over the years, Vanden Heuvel has lent her professional production skills to countless Bay Area artists, including Dawn Riding, Anna Hillburg, Yea-Ming and the Rumors, Andres Miguel Cervantes, The Telephone Numbers, Ryan Wong and Josiah Flores.

Since expanding those efforts to include the Speakeasy record label, Vanden Heuvel has moved beyond providing technical recording wizardry to receptive local artists. A bespoke operation, Speakeasy is a band-focused label that provides much needed one-on-one support for its roster, which includes many of the aforementioned names, in addition to acts like Jacob Aranda, the Lost Days and revered Bay Area pop master, Tony Molina, who is also Vanden Heuvell’s husband. 

As an industry veteran, Vanden Heuvel also educates her clients on complex business intricacies, urging them all to own their master recordings and to be aware of the various royalty groups they need to belong to in order to collect song payments. She’s also just a huge fan of music, and that dedication is not lost among her collaborators.

“Alicia's been a supporter of Galore since the beginning—just her presence in the front row singing along to our songs would be enough to encourage the hell out of us, because we're such a fan of her and her music,”  Ava Sayaka Rosen, guitarist and vocalist of local indie rock band Galore, who are set to release an album through Speakeasy next year. “To be able to work with her now on putting out a record is a revelation because of the way she guides us with full transparency and a true sense of care and collaboration through the process. She even demystified the 5 different royalty buckets using condiment bottles and saltshakers”

Ainsley Wagoner, who also plays in Galore in addition to recording solo work under the moniker of Silverware, offered similar sentiments.

“DIY music is such a grind, and those who have been at it for decades (like Alicia) can understandably get worn down,” said Wagoner. “But somehow, Alicia is incredibly positive and generous - alchemizing all her experience as a player, songwriter, engineer, and producer into supporting other people's projects whether it's as a band member, record label owner, fan, or mentor. She's the real deal, and there are very few who carry themselves with as much integrity, warmth, and love as she does.”

Despite all the joy it offers, music can be a slog for those who inhabit its professional universe, particularly in San Francisco. Fortunately, practitioners like Vanden Heuvel are around to help ease those burdens and ensure that everyone gets to revel in the wonders of the artform.

“I have been living here since the 90s and I have witnessed so many changes,” said Vanden Heuvel. “It’s important to recognize that it’s not easy to live here. I try to be as active as I can be to help people succeed in this city that I love. I don’t have all the answers, but I try to help where I can. And I still have so much hope for this place.”

Dave Benton of Trace Mountains Coming to Thee Parkside on December 7

Photo Credit: Sam Soard

Dave Benton has never shied away from summoning up his indie rock forebears.

As one of the primary songwriters for revered cult rock group LVL UP, Benton famously penned the couplet, “’I feel insane when you get in my bed’/Is something sweet that the Silver Jews said,” for the opening line of “I Feel Extra Natural,” one of the band’s most beloved songs. Along with acknowledging the obvious (that line is sweet), it was also a playful way of paying homage to the legends that helped shape the shaggy and accessible energy of the band.

A decade later and now recording under the moniker Trace Mountains, Benton still seeks the guidance and direction of his DIY predecessors. On “Won’t Go Home,” the defiant, mordant closing track on his outstanding 2024 album, “Into the Burning Blue,” Benton wails about his formative memories, blaring out “Like a curious kid/burning ants on the pavement/making out in the basement/when you first heard the Replacements/’Bastards of Young’ and ‘Androgynous’ helped you make it.” 

The stanza acts almost as a righteous motivational call to action—an inspirational marker aimed directly at his own heart and brain. 

“I had this real angsty teenager thing going on at the time I was writing that song,” said Benton. “I was back living at home and just feeling very moody at the time, not being nice to my parents. It was just like being a kid again, and so those memories of the Replacements just came flooding back to me. I was kind of talking to my old self there.”

The reason for Benton’s adolescent angst (and for his unexpected move back to his parents' New Jersey home) was the recent end of his eight-year relationship with his girlfriend. “Into the Burning Blue” candidly chronicles the dissolution of that relationship, pairing that painful breakup with the larger existential challenges adults in their 30s face as they struggle to navigate  inhospitable economic, social and political environments. 

On December 7, he’ll perform selections from his stirring new album at Thee Parkside, with support from Vermont-based songwriter Lily Seabird. It will be Trace Mountains first headlining show in San Francisco.

Always a candid, erudite songwriter with LVL UP, Benton has peeled back even more layers on “Into the Burning Blue,” a confessional album brimming with emotional vulnerability, earnest introspection and alarming honesty. Benton crafted the album as he was going through the breakup in real time, so many songs he had already written took on new meaning—whether intentionally or through subconscious osmosis.

“At first, I would try to block out everything when I was writing songs,” said Benton. “I was rationalizing to myself that certain songs weren’t really about the relationship—it was almost like I didn’t want to know what they were really about. Ultimately—and I know this is kind of an overused statement—the process felt pretty cathartic. It felt really good to share the demos with my friends. The songs expressed things I maybe wasn’t quite capable of saying in a conversation.”

On the new album, Benton matches those deeply personal sentiments with a distinct sonic aesthetic. Drawing inspiration from mid-era Bruce Springsteen, in particular his towering breakup album “Tunnel of Love,” Benton leaned into the shimmering synth sounds that defined that 80s. Many of the songs on “Into the Burning Blue” are backed by a thumping drum machine and are rich with atmospherics, evoking a profound, spectral quality. You can almost see Benton walking solitarily down the street at dusk with a light mist enveloping him, playing these songs forlornly in his head.

“Gone and Done,” a mournful elegy marked by a wailing slide guitar spitting through keyboards, is filled with the typical questions one faces in the wake of a breakup—“Where should I go/Yeah, I don’t even know.” On the sparse, austere “Cry Cry Cry,” Benton’s voice cracks and splinters, as he tries to assure himself that he’ll be fine over the tinkling of an acoustic guitar. Album highlight “Ponies” takes a different tack, as Benton processes his emotions through the gleaming shine of bright synths and shimmering electronica. 

While there is no doubt that “Into the Burning Blue” chronicles a relationship in its dissolution, the album also tackles larger, more universal issues. Like any empathetic, caring citizen of the world, Benton struggles to come to terms with a society that can be so cruel and callous. A lifelong musician—LVL UP formed when he was in college—he’s also been forced to deal with the economic uncertainties that unfortunately come hand-in-hand with artists whose craft has been commodified and marginalized by capitalistic forces. 

Those larger inquiries of identity and acceptance are tackled on the album’s titanic opening track, “In a Dream,” a motorikking, propulsive road-trip anthem. A catalog of observations collected during his various excursions across the country, the song is a sociological treatise—an endearing, heartfelt examination of how a country so fractured and hurt can possibly survive. 

In many ways, Benton’s own life is a riposte to those daunting visions. After enduring the heartbreak of breakup, Benton is now happily in a new relationship. When not out touring (he’ll be opening for jagged folk-rock superstar MJ Lenderman during a UK jaunt this spring), Benton splits his time between his partner’s place in Dallas and his home in New Jersey. He’s hoping for more solidity in the future, but his ability to move onward and upward bodes well for anyone dealing with the doldrums of personal and political depression.

“I’m still trying to figure out a lot of things—like I need to get an apartment and all that life stuff,” said Benton. “It’s a struggle out there for sure, being a musician. But even with all that going on, I still get to work with so many awesome people, who care about helping me make my music. And I still have so much fucking fun at my shows. There is nothing quite like that experience.”

A new year coming, a new relationship and a new album in tow. The future may still be in the offing for Benton, but he’s providing ample evidence that the burning blues don’t last forever.

Show Details:
Trace Mountains with Lily Seabird and Poppy Patica
Where: Thee Parkside
When: 8 p.m., Saturday, December 7
Tickets: $15, available here.

Ted Leo Marries the Political and the Personal

Leo, beloved veteran punk rocker, will be playing the Fillmore on Friday

There is no manual for writing a protest song.

Some of the most vibrant and timeless compositions in memory are overt, specific calls to action, ranging from anti-war screeds (“Fortunate Son”), polemics against racism and police brutality (“Fight the Power”) and condemnations of oppressions (“Know Your Rights.”)

Conversely, bands like Radiohead and Titus Andronicus have wrapped their calls to resistance in cryptic allegories and mythmaking, weaving recurring themes within the framework of universal struggles that can be interpreted differently by different people at different times. Bob Dylan’s most famous protest song is so tangled in metaphor and tortured symbolism that it feels as urgently malleable now as it did nearly 60 years ago.

While Ted Leo has never claimed to be Bob Dylan or Chuck D, the Rhode Island punk rocker has crafted an enduring legacy as a songwriter by flitting between the personal and political in his 30-plus years as a musician. Always fighting the good fight, Leo has decried colonialism, sexism, racism, corporate greed and nearly every other vice of modern life while also offering glimpses into his own particular struggles. 

An inventive and empathetic wordsmith, Leo has a knack for seemingly telling two stories at once—a broader cautionary tale against societal ills and a deeply internalized treatise of turmoil.

That formula is found throughout “Shake the Sheets,” the outstanding fourth album released by Ted Leo and the Pharmacists. To celebrate the 20th anniversary of that record, Leo and his longtime backing band are playing the album in full at all their tour stops, which includes a performance this Friday at the Fillmore.

Throughout the album, there are clear, conspicuous calls to action—galvanizing anthems designed to shake people out of their collective apathy. But running parallel to that narrative is a separate account of Leo coming to account with a debilitating eating disorder. 

“Me and Mia,” the dynamic opening track that serves as a manifesto for the album, captures that duality perfectly. With lines like “We went on, as we were on a mission/Latest in a grand tradition,” the song initially seems like it’s the latest standard-bearer for calling out systemic abuse. But Leo said there is much more to that track.

“Me and Mia is one of the more coded songs I’ve ever written, because it really is all about having this eating disorder,” said Leo. “It’s very specifically coded, so it’s one of those, ‘if you know, you know,’ things. It’s an acknowledgement of what people are going through without scolding or shaming them.”

Throughout the 11 songs of “Shake the Sheets,” Leo returns time and again to those corresponding motifs—one personal and one universal. For every point of condemnation against corruption and cruelty, Leo manages to interject a phrase or sentence endemic to his own travails. Although a gifted raconteur who can create scenes and storylines that feel fully-formed and multidimensional, Leo has never quite been able to break himself off completely from the tableaus contained in his work.

“I’ve gotten better at divorcing myself from the content, but I’m not one of those songwriters who can tell a great tale that is completely beyond their experience,” said Leo. “I can write these vignettes that are about a time and place with a narrator that isn’t me, but I’m still in there, somewhere.

That approach is not necessarily unique, but Leo has a special gift of lyrical dexterity that elevates him above so many others. “Shake The Sheets” is brimming with songs that serve multiple purposes. For example, the title track ends with this wistful soliloquy:

'Cause on and on, the tides will surely come 
And sure enough, they'll leave again as one 
But you and I, we will or won't be here 
And sure enough, the angels take their share, 
but where, I'm not so sure I think it's fair

It could be describing two forlorn lovers, class strivers revolting against injustice, companions both battling the same internal demons, or a removed observation on the ungraspable concept of mortality.  

“It’s never a 100 percent conscious decision when I’m writing,” said Leo. “But I try to capture the human condition under these systemic conditions. It’s less about describing a problem and more talking about living through these problems. Hopefully, by being more broad, you allow for that extrapolation—that continued application.”

The complementary nature of Leo’s songs is probably what makes the everyman punker so relatable. Leo has been making celebrated music for his entire life through numerous different creative endeavors, but he’s always been grounded and approachable in a way that feels utterly unique to the industry. His songs resonate so powerfully because he feels like one of us—even when he’s pouring his heart out about an entanglement that is completely unique to his own experience.

Few music lifers have aged as gracefully as Leo, who has taken a new approach to his craft after a lifetime of rough living on the road. For this latest tour with the Pharmacists, Leo is breaking up the long monotony of traveling by scheduling only weekend jaunts—a quirk that allows him to spend more time at home with his four-year-old child. 

“I’m in my 50s now,” said Leo. “We are not young anymore. This is about taking care of ourselves.”

Heartening for a veteran musician touring behind an album that’s two decades old, Leo has said he’s witnessed a surprising amount of youthful attendees at his “Shake the Sheets” shows. 

“Earlier this year, we were playing a street fest in Columbia, South Carolina, and we really had no idea what to expect,” said Leo. “But when we started, there was this tremendous energy among the kids who were there—they were singing along with every word and crowdsurfing and everything. It was amazing to experience.”

That show serves as another reminder of the widespread appeal of Ted Leo. Whatever tale he’s relating or mission he’s espousing, there will be an enrapt audience, waiting to hear more.

Show Details:

Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
Where: The Fillmore
When: 8 p.m., Friday, November 15
Tickets: $40.25, available here.