No Expectations

No Expectations 153: Indu

Josh Terry — Thu, 23 Jul 2026 13:59:16 GMT

No Expectations 153 (cover image by Zack James)

No Expectations hits inboxes on Thursdays at 9am cst. Reader mailbag email: Noexpectationsnewsletter@gmail.com. Daily Chicagoan, the local news newsletter I produce at my day job with WTTW News (PBS Chicago), can be found here.

Headline song: Greg Freeman, “Indu”

Thanks for being here. This week had its highs and lows. The nadir didn’t come when the World Cup ended, although that was a bummer. It hit when a thick blanket of wildfire smoke from Canada and Minnesota engulfed Chicago and other parts of the country, driving the Air Quality Index to unprecedented levels. At its worst, it hit 660 here (and here I thought the June 2023 wildfires were bad at 220!). Even if you were outside for just a minute and were donning a KN95 mask, you could feel the smog burrow into your lungs, and the smell lingered for longer than it should’ve. As much as it was physically dangerous, it was also emotionally deflating.

Fortunately, it cleared enough Friday and Saturday so you could comfortably go outside. I saw a short but excellent festival set from a recent newsletter favorite and attended a wedding of two good buds, who packed a beloved concert venue with their thriving community of friends. It was a perfect two days. Though I never want to get used to this sort of air pollution and not being able to breathe while walking around my own neighborhood, the week’s gross weather made the weekend sweeter.

The three records recommended below were a great salve. They’re all easygoing and instantly likeable, but interesting and knotty in all the right ways. If it’s all clear where you are, I’d recommend taking these albums on a stroll.

Also, this week’s playlist is a good one. It kicks off with Greg Freeman’s “Indu,” the lead single from his new John Congleton-produced LP All Set The Bone. I’ve been championing the now-Chicago-based artist’s music since the very beginning of No Expectations, and it’s truly so sick to see how he’s grown as a songwriter since his first record, 2022’s I Looked Out. Through writing about him and getting to know him over the past few years, I’ve been introduced to so many great artists from his home of Burlington, VT that have made running this newsletter so rewarding: Lily Seabird, Dari Bay, Robber Robber, Vega, Charlie Hill, Paper Castles, Greaseface, etc. Mark its release date of October 2 in your calendars, because somehow he’s outdone himself with this new batch of songs. Alltimer album incoming.

Here’s the spiel for new subscribers: Each week, you get a wildcard main essay (often new album recommendations), a 15-song playlist, as well as updates on what I’m listening to, watching, and reading. Sometimes you’ll get an interview with an artist I love, and other times it’ll be a deep dive into one band’s discography. Since I’m a Chicago-based writer, this newsletter is very Midwest-focused. So, if you live in this city too, you’ll also receive a curated roundup of upcoming local shows to check out.

Here’s where I politely ask for money: This newsletter is something I write in my spare time after work. It does not have a paywall and won’t for the foreseeable future due to the generosity of my readers. I am not in the business of gatekeeping. If you have the means and like what you read, I’d encourage you to sign up for a paid subscription. If your budget is tight, telling a friend about a band you found out about here is just as good. You can also post about No Expectations and say nice things. That works too. It’s still $5 a month—the cost of one Old Style plus tip at Rainbo Club. Every bit helps, keeps this project going, and allows it to stay paywall-free. It’s rough out there, so it means the world you’re reading and supporting this writing project.

Three Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Kevin Copeland, Only Love Songs

Whenever Vermont/NYC artist Kevin Copeland is listed as a producer on an album, chances are it’s going to be a No Expectations favorite. His credits include Hannah Frances’ Keeper of the Shepherd and Nested In Tangles, Lamplight’s Lamplight, and Lily Seabird’s Trash Mountain, all of which easily made the newsletter’s year-end lists. When he’s not behind the boards for other artists, he’s making music with his band Big Net. Though he enlists his bandmates, Only Love Songs is his proper solo debut. It’s 11 songs of punchy and twangy pop-rock alongside several cuts of quietly winsome folk. Like the records he’s worked on, this LP sounds spectacular, but it’s Copeland’s lyrics that truly shine. He manages to be at the exact midpoint of conversationally funny and sweetly earnest, like on the single “Hotel Bar,” when he sings, “I was down at the hotel bar/ Trying to clear out my mind/ I like to think that I’m suffering/ But I know I’m doing just fine.” Elsewhere, on the Steve Earle-evoking “That’s All Over Now,” a muscular Americana riff buoys lines like, “Well, I have wasted half of my life / watching TV and saying goodbye / but that’s all over now.” He’s reverse Jeff Tweedy’d here; being a respected producer who turns into a commendable country-and-rock-tinged pop songwriter, rather than vice versa.

RIYL: Wilco, Foxwarren, Elliott Smith

Swapmeet, Mount Zero

It’s rare to come across a debut record that’s overwhelmingly hook-laden and fully-formed but never glossy or saccharine. Adelaide, Australia’s Swapmeet pass this rubric with flying colors on Mount Zero by translating the anthemic choruses and explosive fuzz of '90s alt-rock with the hushed intimacy of bedroom pop. Sure, this is well-trodden territory, but this quartet manages to write songs sturdy and memorable enough to set them apart. Their secret weapon comes in the dual vocals between Venus O’Broin and Jack Medlyn, who both lend a distinct melodic sensibility to each of the nine infectious and explosive songs here. On O’Broin’s songs, they reach for soaring, room-filling catharsis like the kinetic singles “I Know!” and “Halfway.” Medlyn’s songs tend to be more subdued and sinewy. “Seeds” starts soft but then morphs into snotty punk guitar jams while “Bonny” evokes the hushed nerviness of Pinback and The Sea & Cake. It’s the clear standout “Sand” where both singers’ voices best merge: a duet that highlights all the strengths of their astoundingly mature and tasteful brand of indie rock.

RIYL: Slow Pulp, The Bel Air Lip Bombs, Feeble Little Horse

Tommy Goodroad, Goddammit

Chicago’s history as a hotbed of country is well documented. Before the Grand Ole Opry show, the city’s own National Barn Dance was the premier radio program highlighting this music, and it thrived for decades. We’re also the home of John Prine, the Old Town School of Folk Music, Bloodshot Records, which helped birth alt-country in the ‘90s, and a thriving recent scene that includes rising acts like Tobacco City, Glass-Beagle, Orillia, Andrew Sa, Reilly Downes, and more. (A much more thorough overview can be found in Mark Guarino’s excellent 2023 book Country & Midwestern: Chicago in the History of Country Music and the Folk Revival.) One listen to roots-rocker Tommy Goodroad’s debut LP, Goddammit, and it’s clear the local crooner has done his homework: not just for his home’s own musical traditions but the many movements and decades-long left-turns in the genre. Throughout these 11 rowdy and rollicking songs, you’ll hear melodies and arrangements that evoke ‘70s and ‘90s pop country, ‘80s outlaw country, and contemporary indie twang. He enlists Amos Pitsch (who’s in the great Wisconsin bar band Dusk) to produce the LP, which gives it a crunchy grit. On the title track, Goodroad showcases his folksy charm with lines like “Sometimes you just gotta cuss and moan like a bitter old wreck / 'Cause just when things start looking up, turns out to be a crick in your neck” while pedal steel player Peter Briggs shines on the barn-burner “Burden Avenue.” The great country music newsletter Don’t Rock the Inbox called this “Warm weather beer-drinkin' music — in the Ratboys school of Midwest indie x Southern rock x country,” and I can’t come up with a better sell than that.

RIYL: Dusk, JP Harris, Chico States

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 153 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

1. Greg Freeman, “Indu”
2. Ultra Lights, “Diamond Dreams”
3. Kiwi jr., “Photos Of The Reenactment”
4. Swapmeet, “Seeds”
5. Squirrel Flower, “Not Me”
6. Kevin Copeland, “Hotel Bar”*
7. Lily Seabird, “Portal to the Past”
8. Tommy Goodroad, “Burden Avenue”
9. Chris Acker, “Overdrafted”
10. Jake Xerxes Fussell, “Rock Island Line”
11. Julia Jacklin, “I Wish”
12. Hollow Hand, “Here Are The Tulips”
13. Jon McKiel, “Rosemary”
14. Curbside Lambsear, “Man The Door”
15. Standing On The Corner, “Mr. Postman, Wait!”

* = Not on Spotify

Gig recap: Slippers at West Fest (7/17)

Every week, I curate the local concert listings for my day job at WTTW News. I don’t include every big show happening, but I choose the ones I’d attend if I could. (Sometimes my selections aren’t very PBS-coded, but according to my bosses, that’s ok!) That week, I scoured the bands playing West Fest, and hoped to see Slippers, the LA indie pop band behind Slippers 08, one of my favorite records of the year so far. I already knew they were going to be nearby, opening up for headliners Hunx and His Punx at a sold-out Empty Bottle show on Thursday, but I didn’t see them anywhere on the actual festival lineup. That changed Friday morning thanks to a last-minute lineup change, so around 5 p.m. I brought a few friends to see the three-piece in action. The set was 40 minutes of crystalline twee-pop bliss, complete with oddball stage banter, a surprise downpour, and a perfect rendition of my Song of the Year contender “Wants For Everyone.” They’re the real deal.

What I watched:

Infinite Football (directed by Corneliu Porumboiu, streaming on MUBI)

Like Radu Jude, the director behind Do Not Expect Too Much from the End of the World, Corneliu Porumboiu is a major figure in Romanian New Wave. In 2018, he released an odd, bewildering, and honestly affecting 70-minute documentary about his brother’s friend, who’s long had an idea to change and improve the game of soccer. His quest to develop a new sport came from an injury he sustained in his teenage years, and it’s an obsession he’s maintained in adulthood as a joyless Romanian government bureaucrat. This is not a film that will be compelling to most people. It’s a dry watch: think How to with John Wilson without the visual gags or Nathan For You sans obvious jokes. But a lot is going on here: the hope that this global sport inspires, the existential dread of a man past his prime, the needless and confusing rules mirroring post-Soviet life in the Balkans, the disappointment of living to your full potential, and many other things that I kept thinking about hours after the credits rolled. I loved it, but I feel like this will be a divisive recommendation.

What I read:

Speedboat (by Renata Adler)

Renata Adler was a longtime reporter and staff for The New Yorker and a film critic for The New York Times in the late ‘60s. While I’ve read several of her essays and reviews, I realized I hadn’t gotten her two novels, 1976’s Speedboat and 1983’s Pitch Dark, until I encountered a scathing recent book review (targeting a writer I like a lot, for what it’s worth!) that called said writer, “The Renata Adler of looking at your phone.” Listen, there are worse ways to discover the fiction work of a great author, and I’m happy I took the time to sit with her debut, Speedboat. Though it’s 50 years old, it’s bracingly contemporary: almost a proto-Twitter novel. Rather than a linear narrative, it’s a collection of vignettes, observations, party diaries, and scattered thoughts from a young journalist named Jen. You’re not here for propulsive plot, but to luxuriate in the writing. It’s ambient and evocative prose, and there’s a section about criticism that will stick with me for a long time. Because of its experimental structure, it’s not for everyone, but I’d recommend it solely to see how folks on the timeline shamelessly rip Adler off.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 152: Lasagna

Josh Terry — Thu, 16 Jul 2026 13:59:31 GMT

No Expectations 152 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Babehoven, “Lasagna”

Thanks for being here. Last week, The Atlantic published a cover story by Rose Horowitch headlined “The End of Reading Is Here.” It cites research showing the number of Americans who read a book or even an article on any given day has declined by 40% in the past two decades, that just 16% say they read for pleasure, and that these declines are happening “across age groups, gender, and education levels.” It’s a sobering and strikingly well-written piece, but it was almost 9,000 words, so I watched a short front-facing camera video on TikTok summarizing the main points. Just kidding. I got through it in one sitting, and you should too at this link.

At one point, the writer interviews Leah Price, a historian of reading at Rutgers University, who says, “[Reading’s] becoming a kind of niche hobby, like stamp collecting or growing orchids.” As someone who runs an email newsletter about independent music, I know a thing or two about niche hobbies. If you’re reading this blog (or any publication), your relationship to the written word is already healthier, or at least more hyper-specific, than the median. I’m preaching to the choir here, I know, but reading has been such an essential, magical, and useful force in my life I can’t imagine where I’d be without it.

As a kid, I loved reading, and I’m lucky I was taught to do so. Whenever we’d visit my grandparents, that meant we’d take a trip to the bookstore. Sure, often those excursions came with ice cream or a hot dog, but we’d always end up at a Barnes & Noble or local store. Eventually, I grew out of Star Wars books and A Series of Unfortunate Events (my accidental introduction to the Magnetic Fields) and went for Kurt Vonnegut, Flannery O’Connor, Ernest Hemingway, Mary Shelley, Gabriel García Márquez, Dave Eggers, Michael Chabon, Ralph Ellison, and others. I didn’t know at the time how formative those experiences would be, but today I couldn’t be more grateful.

Like music and movies, which Roger Ebert called “a machine that generates empathy,” books are a vital way to enrich your own curiosity, experience another perspective, and find a tangible connection with another human being. When you read, you train your attention, witness how someone thinks over long periods of time, learn something new, and realize that whatever distinctions there are between people—borders, class, ethnicity, age, gender, or religion—we are more alike than we are different. This impulse is what you should nurture, and it’s what makes life worth living.

When I come across statistics like, “Last year, 57 percent of Americans placed a bet” (as opposed to the 38 percent in 2022 who read a novel or short story), it’s easy to despair. Another one is a doozy: “Americans legally bet $166.94 billion on sports in 2025.” On paper that’s a lot, but it’s even more mind-boggling when you find out that, in America, just $8.9 billion was spent on movie tickets, $11.5 billion on recorded music, $60.3 billion on all non-sports live entertainment, $44 billion on live sports, and $33 billion on recreational books. Gambling on sports (remember: just sports and just legal bets) eclipses all of these things combined.

I don’t particularly enjoy thinking about what those numbers say about our society, but I do know there are ways to rebel, even if it means just setting aside time with a book. The Atlantic story gives several anecdotes of college students despairing at dense classroom reading or using ChatGPT to “translate” the “Old English” of Anthony Burgess’s 1962 novel A Clockwork Orange into more digestible language. While it’s easy to poke fun at younger generations, I don’t think it’s their fault: they were born into an era that values convenience over context, clicks over concentration, and content over the canonical works.

I’m not sure it’s hopeless. When I started a career writing about music, my reading habits shifted from novels and history to music criticism and artist biographies. I thought it’d help my work, and it often did, but my discipline and appetite for literature became stagnant. I’d spend more time on Twitter and figured the online album reviews, reported features, and profiles I’d devour were good enough. Whenever I’d pick up a book, it’d be a struggle between the page and the phone. Only by forcing myself to unplug from the Internet and re-expand my horizons did the spark come back. Reading more novels and nonfiction (that weren’t related to music) made my prose tighter, my curiosity returned, and I’m going through more books than I ever have. If my chronically-online self could get back into it, you can too.

There’s one unassailable fact from that Atlantic story, and it’s when she writes, “The more you read, the easier it is to read, and the more you’re rewarded with new understanding. Eventually the process is more pleasurable than it is challenging.”

One quick thing: Since No Expectations’ very beginning, , who runs the always delightful newsletter Hear Hear, has been one of its biggest supporters. I got to meet him in May, and he’s a sweet dude. At that hang, he told me about Encore, a website he made that he’s calling the “Letterboxd for concerts.” You can log shows you’ve attended, see what others are going to, and follow people like me. (On a lazy Sunday, I went through the archive and tried to remember as much as I could: I still need to fix some things like removing shows I didn’t end up making or adding shows outside my regular rotation of venues). It’s still in invite-only beta, so expect some kinks to be worked out, but he’s given No Expectations readers a “skip the line” link to check it out for yourself. This isn’t an ad: I just like Adam and hope this cool idea works out.

Four Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Mary in the Junkyard, Role Model Hermit

London has been fertile ground for indie rock experimentation. From the chaotic proggy virtuosity of Black Midi and its resulting solo spin-off projects, the art school folky exuberance of the gone-too-soon Tapir!, and the slow-core and jazz-inflected rock of Still House Plants, you can find artists there carving their own lane in vastly different ways. Though Mary in the Junkyard are undoubtedly the most pop-forward of the bands listed above, their off-the-wall approach to percussion, doggedly chameleonic approach to genre, and the one-of-one charisma of vocalist Clari Freeman-Taylor set them apart. Her voice is sharp, personality-filled, and able to contort around the labyrinthian rhythms that bassist and violist Saya Barbaglia and drummer David Addison concoct. “Blood” is propulsive, with the tinny fuzz of a winding guitar riff and Freeman-Taylor intoning, “I won’t let you down / If you let me in / You can forget about / All the pain babe.” Elsewhere, woozy strings and a brooding energy pervade throughout “New Muscles” and spectral folk provides a backdrop for “Candelabra.” It’s a dynamic debut that, as it traverses uncharted territory, still feels wholly cohesive thanks to the real chemistry between this trio.

RIYL: The New Eves, Porridge Radio, Lily Seabird

Nixon Boyd, Every Time We Turn A Corner

Since 2007, Nixon Boyd has been known as the lead guitarist for the beloved (and underrated) Canadian indie rock band Hollerado. After almost twenty years, he’s finally stepping out on his own with an understated but supremely catchy and tasteful debut, Every Time We Turn A Corner. While there is a bounty of hooks, there aren’t the frantic power chords, swaggering or bombastic choruses of his main band. Instead, there’s a lighter touch: pared-back pop, hushed folk, delicately bouncy grooves, and a clear, painstaking dedication to his craft. “Trouble of Your Own” is airtight pop-rock, with a George Harrison-evoking slide solo and a shuffling folk rhythm. You’ll hear why some writers have given him Elliott Smith comparisons on songs like “Blindfolded,” but there’s a brightness and an ease that’s fully Boyd’s. The press materials mention how a lost hard drive forced him to start from scratch. While I’m sure that was a harrowing setback at the time, there’s very little I’d change in this humble gem of a record.

RIYL: Greg Mendez, Whitney, Stephen Steinbrink

proun, Maybe Luck

When I first mentioned Austin, Texas proun a few years back in this newsletter, it was by including their song “Exit the Room” in a weekly playlist. At that point, it was the solo project of songwriter Jamie Weed, but now, it’s a full-fledged collaborative band with bassist Dante Zatto and drummer Alex Peterson joining the fold. Their debut, Maybe Luck, benefits from the more expansive, adventurous, and muscular sound that comes from three friends working together and jamming. Throughout the 10 patient but often pummeling songs here, there are shades of ‘90s alt-rock, 2010s emo, and more recent pedal-tinged bedroom folk, but it all hits like a breath of fresh air. The title track is aided by a serpentine, chiming guitar riff while the standout “Stumped” begins as plaintive slowcore before short-circuiting into an explosive jam. Weed excels at catharsis throughout, whether it’s quiet emotions or ones begging for a primal scream.

RIYL: Youbet, Foxing, Lomelda

Ultra Lights, Pleasure’s All Yours

John Robinson has been an Atlanta-based indie rock lifer who’s played in various bands for the better part of two decades. Now 42, he’s seen trends come and go and cycle back again. For his new musical outlet Ultra Lights, he’s dissected rock to its most basic, primal, and pleasurable parts. He draws as much from the Strokes as he does Oasis, Wire, and his Georgia compatriots Omni. The singles, the stomping post-punk of “Good Enough” and the raw, anthemic “Bad Feeling,” might be two of the best rock songs I’ve heard all year: endlessly infectious, energetic, and armed with a wealth of sonic reference points to impress any crate-digging fan. The latter of those tunes came about when Robinson and his wife and bandmate Leela Hoehn saw Lifeguard play and were shocked at how good they were being that young. “It’s over for me,” Robinson remembered thinking, in a retelling to Stereogum. As much as I love the youthful noise-rock trio from my city, I’ll be revisiting Robinson’s undeniable songs just as much, if not more.

RIYL: Kiwi Jr, Pavement, Eddy Current Suppression Ring

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 152 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

1. Babehoven, “Lasagna”
2. Kevin Copeland & The Big Net, “All Over Now”*
3. Ultra Lights, “Good Enough”
4. Nixon Boyd, “Trouble of Your Own”
5. Eliksa, “Only A Matter Of Time”
6. Sharp Pins, “Saturday Sun”
7. Ty Segall, “Black Paint”
8. mary in the junkyard, “Blood”
9. Sam and Louise Sullivan, “Love & Devotion”
10. Elizabeth Moen, “Renaissance Man”
11. proun, “Stumped”
12. Starcleaner Reunion, “Never Odd or Even”
13. HOTT MT, “Golden Record”
14. Anthony Calonico, “Whispers”
15. Luluc, “Dopamine Slot Machine”

* = Not on Spotify.

Gig recap: Blue Earth Sound at Top Note Theatre (7/9)

Blue Earth Sound is the jazz project kickstarted by NE-HI and Spun Out’s James Weir, who’s been one of my best friends for the past decade. We bonded, not just over basketball, but over a love for old soul, funk, jazz, and house records. So it was not a shock to see a lifelong rocker start a new project this vibey, atmospheric, and groove-minded. On the heels of his latest release, The St. Louis Sessions, Weir took his band to the haunted top floor of Metro Chicago for two intimate gigs Thursday night. (The space is called the Top Note Theatre, and it’s where Guns N’ Roses rehearsed and wrote much of Use Your Illusion, which is surprisingly not why it’s haunted). I loved the set, especially their cover of the Meters’“Loving You Is on My Mind.” It’s always great to see your buds rip it during a gig, and I’m happy I got another chance to witness an underused part of an iconic venue.

Gig recap: Deeper, Dehd, Joe Glass, Hurray For the Riff Raff, TV Buddha, Margo Price at Square Roots Fest (7/10-11)

If there’s one thing about Chicago, it’s that we take the neighborhood street festival very seriously. No matter where you are in the city during the summer, chances are there will be a well-curated music fest featuring some of your favorite artists happening blocks away. On Friday, I went with a few friends to Lincoln Square to see local heroes Deeper and Dehd. The next day, I took a couple different buds back to see newsletter favorites like Joe Glass, Hurray For the Riff Raff, TV Buddha, and Margo Price. Deeper played a couple new tunes, Joe Glass made a very convincing Paul Westerberg during his cover of “Left of the Dial,” Hurray For the Riff Raff did a surprise rendition of Joan Osborne’s “One of Us,” and a Margo Price gig meant that I got to see my favorite guitarist, Friend of the Newsletter Sean Thompson, in action. A magical way to spend a weekend.

What I watched:

U.S. Against the World: Four Years with the Men’s National Soccer Team (HBO)

One genre I’m an absolute sucker for is the “behind-the-scenes sports documentary.” Yes, it’s often inessential, cookie-cutter, and too manicured by the teams themselves and their army of PR professionals, but I don’t care. I’ll watch it all. So, it’s no surprise that I really enjoyed HBO’s five-part look into the locker room of the United States’ men’s national soccer team. It tracks the four years between the 2022 Qatar World Cup and the 2026 North American World Cup (where, spoilers, the USMNT got booted in the Round of 16). I started this to hype myself up before the Belgium game, and it was solid enough that I happily continued following their unceremonious 4-1 loss.

What I read:

Lives of the Saints (by Nancy Lemann)

In 1985, the New Orleans-raised writer Nancy Lemann published a slim but transportive novel called Lives of the Saints. It followed a woman returning home from college out east and finding herself back in the old money milieu of the Emerald City. Though it wasn’t a smash success upon release, it found a second life after it went out of print. This year, it was reissued thanks to New York Review Books with an introductory essay from Geoff Dyer. Now, the 70-year-old Lemann is enjoying a much-deserved revival thanks to the book’s lyrical grace, meditative use of repetition, and its ability to find humanity in dysfunction. Lemann is at home as a clear-eyed outsider observing a party happening around her. She’s never cold or distant, but so immersed that her insight into her characters is both pinpoint perceptive and emotionally searing. At just 144 pages, you won’t want it to end. Like its setting, it’s old, out of time, yet still relevant.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 151: Bad Feeling

Josh Terry — Thu, 09 Jul 2026 13:59:07 GMT

No Expectations 151 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Ultra Lights, “Bad Feeling”

Thanks for being here. It’s been as close as you can get to an alltimer summer here in Chicago. Most weekends have been fully packed with shows, friends, dinners, and lately, the 2026 World Cup. I’m having a blast. Over the past few days, I watched a few games surrounded by buds and strangers. I witnessed those around me curse out the ref in multiple languages, sit in communal anxiety taking in the on-field drama, and hug everyone (or gasp in despair) at every goal. As much as I’m bummed that some of my favorite squads are knocked out, I don’t want it to end.

While this quadrennial soccer competition has captured my attention for weeks now, I’ve still managed to carve out time to find some stellar records to highlight here. Discovery can be tough when you’re busy, but it’s always worth setting aside an hour or two a day to slow down and take things in.

I’ve long had this fantasy of being able to stop the clock so I can catch up on new music, make it through a stack of books, and finally make a sizable dent in my film watchlist. Whenever I read a great novel or listen to a stellar LP, it’ll lead me to find something more to add to the queue. The same goes for movies. I’ll never be able to hear, read, or watch everything worthwhile, and that’s OK. Life is meant to be lived, but art helps enrich it. So, even if your “list of things to check out” is getting overwhelming, making space to experience something with an open mind is never a bad idea.

Five Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Dari Bay, Surprise Wish

Burlington’s Zack James is probably the artist that’s been featured most in No Expectations. And it’s not just that his bands, Dari Bay and Robber Robber, are longtime favorites: Every time you visit this newsletter, you’ll see the logo he designed as well as the weekly cover images he makes for each installment. While he’s integral to this blog’s success and a friend, I’ve been a fan for longer and remain so.

James’ latest LP, Surprise Wish, is a compulsively hooky and concise dose of slacker-tinged power pop. It scraps the breezy twang of 2023’s The Longest Day of the Year for punchy fuzzed-out rockers that make room for rhythmic left turns and moments of atmospheric beauty. Beyond his work in his main musical projects, he’s an in-demand drummer for touring acts like Unknown Mortal Orchestra and Porches, and you can see why in the playful percussion work of the folky opener “Finder” and the outro on the single “Chevy.” Elsewhere, “The Joke” is searing power chords and boasts lines like, “What does it mean that I’m in on the joke, but I’m not the one laughing / The song is over, but no one is clapping.” Though he mines a palette of bedroom pop, ‘90s indie, and Weezer-evoking alt-rock, it’s done with a tastefulness and inventiveness that’s fully his own. Just take one listen to standout “We’re All Gonna Be Okay” and let the chiming riffs wash over you as James sings, “I’ve really gotta remind myself that / Sometimes we feel so small, but it’s alright / We’re gonna be okay.” The real deal!

RIYL: Graham Hunt, Porches, Alex G

La Sécurité, Bingo!

Montreal’s La Sécurité simultaneously evoke the synthy bombast of 2000s dance punk, the frantic intensity of egg punk, and the knottiness of 2010s art-rock, all while having an absolute blast on their sophomore LP Bingo! It’s an unrelenting half-hour of spitfire bass lines, clanging guitars, buzzsaw synths, and club-ready catharsis. Of the 10 songs here, all could bring the house down live in no small part thanks to the charismatic and acerbic performance of lead singer Éliane Viens-Synnott. She contorts her voice around the snaking and spiky arrangements. Whether she’s talk-singing, putting on a snotty affect, or crooning in French, it’s always electric. While each track is a banger, the single “Detour” might be the best entry point: a zany and danceable tour-de-force that’s one of the most infectious tunes of the year.

RIYL: Snõõper, Water From Your Eyes, Fake Fruit

Laceles, dreamsicle

Chicago trio Laceles write noisy and grungy rock songs with their own internal logic. When you expect the slow-building tension in one of the nine songs on the Bandcamp-only dreamscicle to unfold and resolve, the band violently careens in a totally different direction. This volatility makes this LP a thrilling listen: pummeling instrumental passages, brutal riffs, anxious yelps, and brief moments of sweet melodic pop from vocalist Lydia Billie. Even on the most straightforward numbers, like the anthemic “On Her,” there’s a menacing aura in both the gnarled guitars and the haunting harmonies between Billie and bassist Marlowe Shacory. There's an ‘80s no-wave thump to the dirgelike “Doctor Zapple” and sparkling jams on “Everything Is Every1.” Equally confounding and bursting with life, there’s not a locally made album from this year that’s more fun to untangle.

RIYL: Babes In Toyland, Sonic Youth, PJ Harvey

palefire, full heart, big empty eyes

My favorite recent source for music discovery has to be The Ugly Hug, a Chicago-based blog that’s been a tireless champion for independent artists and DIY communities around the country for the past three years. The latest LP they’ve tipped me on is palefire’s Bandcamp-only full heart, big empty eyes. It’s the debut effort from Denton, Texas songwriter and bandleader Jaqui Torres, a devoted student of K Records twee pop who also happens to be a classically trained cellist. This is a winning combo throughout these winsome, wide-eyed, and excellent indie pop songs. There’s ample fuzz and jangle on the highlight “sweet as a yankee” while “my peace (you so surround me)” is pockmarked by subtle synths and a lullaby melody. Though much of the material could be described as delicate, Torres’ melodic lightness and dexterous songwriting are astoundingly sturdy.

RIYL: The Sundays, Wendy Eisenberg, Elliott Smith

Smirk, Speculative Fiction

There are some records where you sit down for a full listen, but you hear a particular song for the first time, and you have to run it back. That happened twice with me and Smirk’s third album, Speculative Fiction, on “Victimry” and “Going Off to Die.” Those two tracks are everything I’d want in a punk tune: propulsive energy, driving, nervy riffs, and explosive choruses, all delivered by a commanding vocalist. Smirk frontman Nick Vicario nails it throughout these 13 songs. He trades some of the throwback punk references of his early oeuvre for raw, no-frills immediacy and melody-forward writing. Sure, you’ll definitely hear shades of the Stooges, Joy Division, or MC5, but Vicario’s hard-hitting and deliriously catchy brand of punk will stick with you.

RIYL: Protomartyr, Shame, Stuck

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 151 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Dari Bay, “Background”
Smirk, “Victimry”
Adult DVD, “Cowboy On Aisle Three”
La Sécurité, “Detour”
PUP, “If This Is It”
Wishy, “All The Rage”
Ultra Lights, “Bad Feeling”
Bondo, “Zuma”
Graham Hunt, “Riverboat Blues”
Sofia Wolfson, “Kid”
Jack Brereton, “L.A.”
Sadurn, “whole thing”
Slow Pulp, “Not for Nothing”
1000 Rabbits, “White Horse”
Gash, “good and bad”

Gig recap: Porches at Logan Square Arts Fest (6/26)

I’ve always loved Porches’ music. Few songwriters in that world have been ahead of the curve and not content to stay in the same lane as much as Aaron Maine. His latest release, MASK, is a nine-song mixtape that’s gnarled, rough, and wholly compelling—a complete 180 turn from his glossy and often synthy breakthrough albums like 2016’s Pool and 2018’s The House. He headlined the Friday of Logan Square Arts Fest. I’d attend anyway, but his band featured Zack James of Dari Bay, Robber Robber, and Unknown Mortal Orchestra as his drummer. That day was also James’ record release for Surprise Wish—even though he wouldn’t be playing any of his own, I had to support the homie. It was lovely to be outside and hear these songs. I’m shocked they made their aftershow across town with a 10:30 p.m. start time following their 9 p.m. festival set. True pros.

Gig recap: Bertha: Grateful Drag, Yoko and the Oh No’s at Gallagher Way (6/27)

In 2023, Tennessee’s Republican Gov. Bill Lee signed a state law that banned drag performances (alongside other forms of so-called “adult cabaret”) from public property or anywhere minors might be present. In a state where its arguably most famous resident, Dolly Parton, has said, “If I hadn’t been a girl, I’d have been a drag queen,” the legislation caused massive uproar, especially in its artist community. That year, a collection of Nashville musicians decided to create a drag-themed cover band of the Grateful Dead. Since their first show at Dee’s in Madison, which raised thousands for local charities, they’ve become a touring powerhouse. My friend stumbled upon four tickets for their Chicago gig outside Wrigley Field during Pride weekend, and I couldn’t have had a better time. It might have been the most joyful and fun celebration of this band’s catalog I’ve seen yet.

Gig recap: Widowspeak, Neu Blume at Schubas (6/28)

If I had to choose a band that feels like the platonic ideal of my tastes, it’s either Bonny Doon or Neu Blume. They make the kind of conversational and inviting folk rock that can be breezy, rocking, and emotionally devastating all at once. Both bands have a lot in common. They share a Detroit home and band members: Neu Blume co-songwriter Colson Miller has played bass in Bonny Doon since 2022, and when I saw Neu Blume perform a couple weeks ago at Schubas, Bonny Doon’s co-frontman Bill Lennox sat in with them on guitar. It was a perfect show. While Let It Win was a clear standout last year, the band’s set featured mostly new tunes off a as-yet-unannounced LP. I was floored by most everything I heard: the then-unfamiliar-to-me tracks were so stellar that I could still hum them days after only hearing them once.

Headliner Widowspeak were phenomenal. One thing I missed in my blurb of their latest record last month is how Robert Earl Thomas is such a cut above most indie rock guitarists. His tone is unbelievable, and while he’s not flashy, he’s an undeniable and tasteful shredder. Every riff and every solo were in service of the song. There are few gigs I’d make after attending concerts two nights in a row, but this was an ideal way to cap off a back-to-back-to-back.

Gig recap: Soft Surface, Magical Powers, Toddo at Empty Bottle (7/2)

I don’t think I made a list at the time, but my absolute favorite album of 2017 was Cende’s #1 Hit Single. It was the first and only LP from the Cameron Wisch-fronted Brooklyn outfit (which was named after what a Descendents t-shirt looks like under an unbuttoned flannel shirt), but it’s such an unassailable and efficient compilation of frantic power pop that I revisit it regularly to this day. Since that one-and-done project, Wisch has stayed busy. He’s played in bands like Porches, Ra Ra Riot, and Frankie Cosmos but now drums for Petey USA and splits time fronting two new bands between Dust Star and Soft Surface. The latter, which treads similar territory of blistering punk and ebullient pop melodies, headlined a free Thursday show at the Empty Bottle. His band featured local players like Options Seth Engel, Patter and the Knees’ Wilson Brehmer, and Moontype and the Deals’ Joe Suikhonen. It ripped: a ferocious and tight sub-40 minute gig.

What made the night extra special was running into Jonah Yoshonis, the Grand Rapids songwriter behind No Expectations favorites Perren. I’d never met the guy before, but it turns out he was playing drums with openers Magical Powers. Like Yoshonis, they’re from my hometown, and they were excellent. An atmospheric and mathy set of emo-tinged indie rock. It was yet another perfect night at the Empty Bottle.

What I watched:

Widow’s Bay (Apple TV+)

What’s great about Widow’s Bay is that it’s exactly what I want in a TV show. It’s smart, but it’s not trying to be prestige TV. It’s compulsively watchable and fun, but it’s not grating or schlocky. Starring Matthew Rhys as the in-over-his-head mayor of a haunted town, this horror comedy seamlessly blends genres with referential scares (homages to Jaws, The Shining, Halloween, Psycho, and Twin Peaks abound) and a cast of comedic character actors (way more King of the Hill regulars than you’d expect) to bring jokes that actually land. While it never transcends the classics it pays tribute to (and it shouldn’t!), it’s a breezy 30-ish minute monster-of-the-week series that hearkens back to an era when TV felt like TV. Sometimes a premise like “the town’s haunted” is more than enough for a solid show.

What I read:

The Time of Cherries (by Montserrat Roig)

Montserrat Roig’s novel The Time of Cherries was published in Spain over a year after the 1975 death of dictator Francisco Franco, who brutally ruled the country from 1939 until he succumbed to heart failure at 82. It became a classic of Barcelona literature during her homeland’s la Transición to democracy but was only translated into English and released stateside in 2024. I devoured it in a weekend. The book follows Natàlia, a Catalan woman now approaching 40, who returns home to Barcelona after more than a dozen years abroad living in England and France. She left after the 1962 Franco-led execution of leftist politician Julián Grimau and came home as anarchist Salvador Puig Antich died the same way in 1974. Though no one knows it just yet, the country is on the brink of change, but the devastation of Franco’s rule and loss of the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War weighs heavily on every character. What’s striking about this slim but potent book is how Roig navigates these cultural, familial, and personal scars—ones caused by repressive violence, censorship, and stifling fascism—with grace, optimism, and resilience. Her narrative weaves in and out of time with flashbacks and nonlinear jumps. But no matter what, Roig’s prose is stunning, and translator Julia Sanches renders it beautifully.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 150: Touch Grass

Josh Terry — Thu, 02 Jul 2026 13:59:04 GMT

No Expectations 150 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Major Murphy, “Touch Grass”

Thanks for being here.

This week, the newsletter crossed the 10,000 subscriber mark. That’s a ridiculous number. I’m grateful and amazed that so many people have supported this writing project. When I started No Expectations in Dec. 2022, I figured the best-case scenario was that I could eventually get 1,000 people to sign up. Now, in just three and a half years, running this blog has brought me so much joy it’s hard to quantify. I honestly can’t imagine what my life would’ve looked like without it.

This little indie rock website is directly responsible for me getting hired at the best full-time job I’ve ever had: producing the newsletters for WTTW News (PBS Chicago). It’s allowed me to search for and find so much amazing music. I’m reading more, too, and I’ve made so many friends from just writing about independent artists making worthwhile and stellar albums. There are so many great writers, excellent publications, and must-read newsletters that you could support instead, so I’m especially thankful for every email signup, every nice thing someone said to me via social media or at a show, and every generous person who’s chosen the paid tier.

As much as it’s gauche to care about subscriber totals, it’s good to celebrate a W sometimes. Thanks to everyone who’s made No Expectations a sustainable and fun endeavor. There’s an audience for organic music discovery outside of the streaming service algorithms and the bigger, well-funded outlets. When AI slop abounds, it turns out people want to hear interesting and under-the-radar human-made tunes. I’m still floored that I get to do this every week and that this newsletter is still growing.

The July 4th Playlist For Grilling and Chilling

It’s the 4th of July on Saturday, and I have a three-day weekend on deck. Even though Chicago’s in the middle of a heat wave, you’ll find me on a bud’s rooftop drinking beers and hopefully grilling hot dogs one of those days. No Expectations typically celebrates holidays with a massive playlist of old favorites: an eclectic mix of songs from decades past. But this year, because it’s the newsletter’s 150th regular installment, I figured I’d compile a breezy collection of songs I’ve covered in this blog since 2022. If you’re a newer subscriber, think of this as a “No Expectations Greatest Hits.” If you’ve been reading since the very beginning, you’ll hear a handful of tracks I haven’t written about or featured in any of the weekly mixes. Enjoy the weekend. I’ll be back next week with a packed edition full of LP, movie, and book recommendations.

The No Expectations 150 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Dusk, “Pissing In A Wishing Well”
Angela Autumn, “Mountain Stream”
Dari Bay, “Walk On Down”
Sam and Louise Sullivan, “Down on Love”
Billie Marten, “Feeling”
Erin Rae, “True Love’s Face”
Good Looks, “If It’s Gone”
Lawn, “Down”
Alex G, “Runner”
Florry, “First it was a movie, then it was a book”
Wednesday, “Phish Pepsi”
Way Dynamic, “People Settle Down”
Silver Synthetic, “Cool Blue Night”
Sierra Ferrell, “Dollar Bill Bar”
Hannah Cohen, “Summer Sweat”
Eliza Niemi, “DM BF”
Good Morning, “A Telephone Rings”
hemlock, “Hyde Park”
Foxwarren, “Deadhead”
Greg Freeman, “Gone (Can Mean a Lot of Things)”
Mildred, “Fleet Week”
Lily Seabird, “Sweepstake”
Golden Apples, “Waiting For A Cloud”
Superviolet, “Locket”
LAKE J, “Wild Wind”
Brad Goodall, “River Water”
GENA, “Circlesz”
Gia Margaret, “Good Friend”
Liz Cooper, “Sorry (That I Love You)”
Styrofoam Winos, “Next Thing”
Waxahatchee, “Crowbar”
Bonny Doon, “Maybe Today”
Ratboys, “The World, So Madly”
Whitney, “In the Saddle”
villagerrr, “Barn Burnerrr”
Tyler Ballgame, “I Believe In Love”
Mapache, “Rainbow Song”
Real Companion, “New Moon Ave.”
Neu Blume, “Power”
Red PK, “Red”
Graham Hunt, “Speeding Towards A Wall”
Soft Surface, “What Love Is (feat. Frankie Cosmos)”
Golomb, “Other Side of the Earth”
Minor Moon, “I Could See It Coming”
Video Age, “Away From The Castle”
Divino Niño, “Drive”
Bad Bunny, “BAILE INoLVIDABLE”
Sword II, “Sugarcane”
Uwade, “Harmattan”
Tobacco City, “America”
Tasha, “Summer”
Shoulderbird, “Rocket”
Fine Food Market, “Wild World”
Widowspeak, “If You Change”
Closebye, “Hammer of My Own”
Star Moles, “Overdog”
Big Thief, “Spud Infinity”
Cory Hanson, “Driving Through Heaven”
Major Murphy, “Touch Grass”
Luluc, “Rewarding Melody”

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 149: On Your Side

Josh Terry — Thu, 25 Jun 2026 13:59:57 GMT

No Expectations 149 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Dari Bay, “On Your Side”

Thanks for being here. Every week, I try to siphon off one day to do absolutely nothing. Usually, it’s Sundays, but not always. Whenever it is, I’ll have no plans, won’t leave the house, and I’ll devote my time to books, watching sports, listening to records, and thinking about what I’m going to publish in this newsletter.

It’s a necessary move. Writing is a very solitary job, but my personality is more geared towards “hanging out all the time” and “drinking beers on a patio with buds.” Left to my own devices, I’d probably never make a deadline. I have to force myself to sit still, to listen intently, to read uninterrupted and undistracted, and to write. As much as I’d prefer to be at a show or a bar, it’s good for me, and I’ve really grown to cherish this time alone. It’s a solid ritual to unplug and reset.

It’s good to slow down sometimes, and I’m grateful for when I can carve out time to relax. This past weekend, I did just that, and I felt like I listened to more music than ever. You’ll notice that the recommended records below are pretty chill. That’s definitely on purpose, but these albums are as exciting and excellent as they are gentle.

Four Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Diles que no me maten, Escrito en agua

Mexico City quintet Diles que no me maten (“Tell them not to kill me” in English) is a shapeshifting experimental collective that traverses post-rock, jazz, krautrock, neo-classical, and psych-rock throughout their beguiling catalog. Keen on patient, slow-burning arrangements, droning repetition, and liberal use of horns and woodwinds, their songs capture improvisation at its most revelatory. On their fourth LP, Escrito en agua (“Written in Water”), their quiet and immersive approach to songwriting results in an audacious full-length of left-field stunners. It opens with a funeral march, all wailing horns and a turgid rhythm, before the next track, “Hiriku,” unlocks into an austere alt-rock groove. Where that tune is the most straightforward of the bunch, the surprising, classification-eschewing rest of the tracklist is no less thrilling. The instrumental interludes feel like a score plucked from the Golden Age of Hollywood, while cutting-edge lyrical numbers like “Perquisidor” and “Jardín” are somehow never out of place. Few albums have seamlessly packed so many ideas into 36 minutes as this one.

RIYL: Black Country New Road, Racing Mount Pleasant, Still House Plants

Haylie Davis, Wandering Star

Sonoma County, California’s Haylie Davis proudly wears her musical heroes on her sleeve. You’ll hear the pristine ‘70s songwriting of Laurel Canyon and country heroes like Emmylou Harris, Linda Ronstadt, Carole King, and Karen Carpenter all throughout her lush folk-rock songs. “My influences are very clear, but I wouldn’t say I’m consciously trying to mimic or recreate anything,” Davis told Rolling Stone this year. “My songs are more out of my control than you’d think they are. I purely feel like a messenger.” One listen to her debut LP, Wandering Star, and it’s clear she transcends pastiche into something endlessly listenable and fully her own. The effervescent lead single “Golden Age” is breezy and propulsive, while the piano-led “Born to Be Blue” is smoky and melancholic. Davis is at her best when she ups the tempo and energy, like on the pastoral “Give Me a Rainbow” or the woozy twang of “Young Man.” But even on the ballads, it’s obvious that she’s a versatile, undeniable talent on this charming collection of timeless Americana.

RIYL: Mikaela Davis, Sylvie, Linda Ronstadt

Shabason & Krgovich, Four Days in June

The first time I heard the Toronto jazz artist Joseph Shabason was on Destroyer’s Kaputt. As a session musician, he gave the songs a smooth, endlessly lush sheen that references ‘80s sophisti-pop, yacht rock, and jazz at its most loungey. He’s since taken this sensibility, warping it and tweaking it, to an astoundingly prolific and collaborative solo career. All of it is worthwhile, especially his work with Vancouver vocalist and songwriter Nicholas Krgovich, whose warm, whispered croon is the perfect vessel for Shabason’s atmospheric compositions. Since their 2020 album Philadelphia (named after the Neil Young song they cover), the two have found ways to imbue subtle, soothing sounds with big emotions. Their latest musical partnership, the sundapped and resplendent Four Days in June, is their most meditative and galvanizing yet. Where their past team-ups have featured jazzier orchestration or pops of breathy synths and electronics, here they use an organic, folk-rock palate. There’s hushed electric guitar, brushed drums, understated pedal steel, pockets of wispy flute, and even banjo and fiddle (courtesy of Sam Amidon). While it’s the most accessible route this duo has taken with their songs, it’s also the most potent. Take the Dorothea Paas duet “Dry Corner” (a cover of a tune by Palberta’s Anina Ivry-Block) or the verdant and blossoming opener “Begin Again” that luxuriates in its seven-minute runtime, and you’ll just scratch the surface of what these impossibly gorgeous tracks have to offer.

RIYL: Minor Moon, Arthur Russell, The Blue Nile

Styrofoam Winos, Any River

Nashville trio Styrofoam Winos make lived-in and unpredictable folk rock that’s slightly psychedelic but always inviting. These conversational and welcoming qualities are in small part due to the camaraderie between members Lou Turner, Joe Kenkel, and Trevor Nikrant, who met while working at a now-demolished Midtown cafe. Their obvious friendship is infectious: you can hear it in their songs, and you can see why bands like MJ Lenderman and the Wind, Will Oldham, Friendship, and Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse band all sing their praises and take them on tour. (They’ve all played in the Roadhouse Band, too.) Any River, the band’s third album, highlights all three members (they not only share lead vocals throughout, but they also trade instruments) and their simpatico songwriting skills. Nikrant shines on both the falsetto harmonies of “BBQ” and the easygoing “New Friend,” which boasts the line, “There I go again / Making grocery lists with a fountain pen.” Elsewhere, Turner takes over the swirling and raucous “Pearls,” while the ebullient closer “Gettin’ Down” is a communal celebration of making art. On that track, when they all sing, “Be your own Elvis,” you’ll want to follow their lead.

RIYL: Ryan Davis & The Roadhouse Band, Neu Blume, Color Green

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 149 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Swapmeet, “Halfway”
Dari Bay, “On Your Side”
Wild Pink, “Box Store”
Styrofoam Winos, “BBQ”
Kiwi jr., “Pure Michigan”
The Laughing Chimes, “Behind Your Blue Fields”
Diles que no me maten, “Hiriku”
Shannon Lay, “Past The Veil”
Cole Berggren, “On My Side”
Haylie Davis, “Golden Age”
This Is Lorelei, “Billy Came Back”
Shabason & Krgovich, “Midday Sun”
Starcleaner Reunion, “Weather Instrument”
Green-House, “Farewell, Little Island”
Tierra Whack, “EARWAX”

What I watched:

Saipan (directed by Glenn Leyburn and Lisa Barros D’Sa)

The 2002 World Cup was initially a rocky one for the Republic of Ireland’s national soccer team. Before the tournament kicked off in Japan and South Korea, the Football Association of Ireland booked the team to train at Saipan. It’s a minuscule island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean that’s arguably best known for being where the Enola Gay lifted off before becoming the first aircraft to drop an atomic bomb and killing over 100,000 people in Hiroshima. When the squad arrived, they found that there wasn’t a usable football pitch to train on, the hotels were dilapidated, and they didn’t even have soccer balls. Saipan, an artful 2025 dramedy, documents this “Fyre Festival but soccer” debacle with electric performances from Steve Coogan, who plays the manager Mick McCarthy, and Éanna Hardwicke, who soars as the cantankerous captain Roy Keane. I loved this film a lot more than I thought I would. It boasts maybe the most evocative cinematography in a sports movie I’ve ever seen.

What I read:

The Taste of Sugar (by Marisel Vera)

At the beginning of the year, I set out to read more history, historical fiction, and books by Chicago authors. Marisel Vera’s novel The Taste of Sugar checks the latter two boxes. Here, the Humboldt Park-born author charts the tragic and harrowing story of a Puerto Rican couple navigating the turbulent times plaguing their home in the late 19th century. She tracks the Island from its 1898 U.S. invasion and annexation during the Spanish-American War, the 1899 San Ciríaco hurricane, and the migration of thousands of Borinqueño laborers to Hawaii’s sugar plantations following the disaster. It’s sweeping and stark history, and Vera enlivens the narrative with experimental flourishes of letters, secondary texts, and Spanish sentences. Simultaneously heart-wrenching, transportive, and lucid, it’s a sobering and gorgeous read. While I had some issues with the pacing and the way the two main protagonists are fleshed out, it’s worth it for the necessary, underdiscussed history alone.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 148: Blowin’ Up

Josh Terry — Thu, 18 Jun 2026 13:58:59 GMT

No Expectations 148 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Kiwi jr., “Blowin’ Up”

Thanks for being here. I’m floored by the response to “The 40 Best Albums of 2026 (So Far)” midyear roundup. It’s awesome to hear from readers, new and old, about their favorite discoveries and the LPs that resonated with them. Music rules, man. I’m so grateful to those who shared it and those who decided to sign up. These lists are how No Expectations grows, so thanks again to every new subscriber and to everyone generous enough to choose the paid tier.

While the reaction was pretty much unanimously positive, some folks on social media were skeptical of the list because they hadn’t heard of any of the artists featured. That’s understandable, but highlighting under-the-radar, independent artists that should be covered elsewhere is why this newsletter exists in the first place. This is literally the whole point! I tend to view “Best of Lists” more as an opportunity for discovery than as a way to have my own taste validated. If I published a roundup and you already knew every record mentioned, that’s not very fun.

This year will be my fourteenth covering music. I’ve spent most of that time at outlets like VICE, the A.V. Club, and RedEye Chicago championing artists who are making what I find to be vital, excellent records. And I’ve gotten pretty good at finding acts doing that who are operating on the fringes and nurturing their local music communities. The key is to keep an open ear, stay curious, and allow yourself to be surprised and disarmed by new music. By uncoupling your listening habits from the streaming service algorithm and the hype cycle, you can make so many amazing discoveries.

Another reason I like making lists is that it gives me a break. I wasn’t going to recommend 80 albums one week and return the next with several more, so I spent the time going to a wedding of dear friends in Milwaukee (God’s country for real) and hanging out with other buds in Chicago. With no deadline, I also decided to listen to as much as possible without feeling like I needed to write about it or come up with a novel angle. Of course, I ended up finding more LPs than I can get to this week, but I’m confident 2026 will bring so much more excellent music than any one newsletter can cover.

Also, there’s a really good playlist this week that flows quite well. Before I write any of these newsletters, I make sure the 15-song mix is a seamless listen front-to-back. (It’s why I tense up when people tell me they put it on shuffle.) This go around, I kept wanting to revisit it: the thing passed the “car test,” the “neighborhood walk test,” and the “procrastinating making the newsletter deadline test.” A good sign!

Five Albums Worth Your Time This Week

BASIC, BASIC

BASIC, the instrumental supergroup between guitarist Chris Forsyth, Tortoise bassist Douglas McCombs, and percussionist Mikel Patrick Avery, is an outlet for three seasoned, improvisational musicians to stretch out jams and find revelation in repetition. In September 2025, the three decamped to Electrical Audio in Chicago to flesh out their sophomore album BASIC. Forsyth mentions in the press materials that they “invented 60% of this record on the spot at Electrical,” and that lived-in chemistry exudes throughout the seven sprawling and taut tracks here. “Brutalist With Filligree” could be twice its length thanks to its sticky and spellbinding rhythm, while swirling electronics and pastoral guitars make “Index of Memories” dreamlike. BASIC closes with arguably its most audacious statement: “Union Pool Melody,” a live-recorded improv jam, elongates past the nine-minute mark, but it’s enthralling even as it patiently builds into uncharted territory.

RIYL: Winged Wheel, Bitchin’ Bajas, Sonic Youth

Casual Technicians, Well Once There Was A King

Nathan Baumgartner, Boone Howard, and Tyler Keene all met playing shows in various projects throughout the 2010s in Portland. While Keene moved to New Jersey and Baumgartner decamped to the Oregon coast, the three still collaborate as Casual Technicians. Every year, they meet in person to record an album together, bringing their own songs and hanging out in the same space. Their sophomore effort reflects this well-worn camaraderie. Well Once There Was A King is lowkey but eclectic and exploratory folk-rock. It crams 24 off-kilter tracks into less than an hour, mining Beach Boys harmonies, Stephin Merritt’s stripped-back adventurousness, and a gleeful approach to genre experimentation. While that sounds like a lot to take in on paper (oh, it’s also a concept record), the record has a relaxed and inviting feel thanks to the charming and inventive songwriting of this trio. “Heathen Ways” is old-timey country, “The Golden Rule” is zipping indie rock, while “I’ve Lost Control of the Ending” is mournful pop. Sure, sometimes the densely packed tracklist can feel sketch-like, but there are so many transcendent moments of outsider pop throughout that make the journey wholly rewarding.

RIYL: Loving, Monde UFO, Magnetic Fields

Slippers, Slippers 08

Madeline Babuka Black, the Atlanta-raised and Los Angeles-based animator and songwriter, first came up with the idea to start Slippers when she was a full-time nanny. She was surrounded by kids and remembered when she was at that age, she had discovered indie rock by watching The Powerpuff Girls. So why not write simple songs that were so infectious that even a child could love them? Though there is a bubblegum sweetness and an undeniable catchiness to these jangly pop songs, Babuka Black is such a gifted writer that it never seems cloying or overly silly. Slippers 08, Slippers’ latest record, is as playful as it is excellent. It’s a relentlessly-paced and efficient dose of power pop. Lead single “Wants For Everyone” has a Strokes-like propulsion, but is kept grounded by Babuka Black's cascading, technicolor melodies. There’s ebullient Beatles worship on the standout “Castaways” and yearning on “Sunday Morning,” when she sings, “I’ll take up another mindless hobby / Like aromatherapy or booze / It’s not you / I get down by the weight of things.” While many artists mine similar wells of timeless rock’n’roll, few make it seem as effortless as Babuka Black.

RIYL: Sharp Pins, The Apples in Stereo, my girlfriend calling this band “Better Coast”

Tara Clerkin Trio, Somewhere Good

Tara Clerkin Trio hail from Bristol, U.K., the home of trip-hop and downtempo pioneers Massive Attack and Portishead. While you hear shades of that lineage on their masterful new album Somewhere Good, especially on the soulful and sublime single “Lazy Daisy,” these eight wonky and stunning songs eschew classification. They draw from rock as much as jazz and classical, peppering pops of squishy synths, wailing horns, and skittering drums into the arrangements. Texturally rich and melodically beguiling, the tracklist bubbles and breathes, seamlessly morphing from instrumental to more traditional pop structures. (Though the balance leans more toward the esoteric, mesmerizing, and confounding). On the slow-burning, steady groove of the evocative title track, Clerkin sings, “You're leaping fields / I'm falling leaves / You're busy streets / I'm moving feet.” The song is only one of three on the LP with lyrics, but Somewhere Good is so verdant, surprising, and hypnotic that you’ll barely notice.

RIYL: Carla dal Forno, Smerz, Still House Plants

Widowspeak, Roses

Since 2011, New York duo Widowspeak has thrived on hazy and gorgeous indie pop that constantly elicits comparisons to Mazzy Star thanks to the melancholic, crystalline croon of frontwoman Molly Hamilton. Throughout their seven LPs, they’ve bounced around from jangle pop to mellow psych, and haunting post-punk, all while keeping a firm anchor in lush atmospherics and shimmering pop. Roses, their latest and best album yet, is far less concerned with transportive mood-setting (there’s a reason their own press materials refer to the duo as a “Lynchian Roadhouse band”) than airtight and soaring pop writing. Each of these 10 songs is imbued with brightness and woozy Americana instrumental flourishes. Though the duo explored country influences on their 2015 full-length All Yours, here the twangy genre signifiers are crisper and more centered in the mix. Lead single “If You Change” boasts such a pristine hook that it wouldn’t feel out of place on 2000s adult contemporary radio. Still, it’s so intentional and tasteful that it never feels sugary. On opener “The Hook,” there’s Tom Petty-evoking openness thanks to Robert Earl Thomas’ warm and sturdy riffs, while there’s a surf rock pep to “Soft Cover.” This is a band that’s excelled at guazy, wistful indie pop and is only getting better.

RIYL: Mikaela Davis, Tom Petty, Jess Williamson

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 148 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Kiwi jr., “Blowin’ Up”
Mallory Hawk, “Caretaker”
Slow Pulp, “Better Man”
L’Rain, “soulless cycle”
Lily Seabird, “Election Day”
Swapmeet, “2 C U”
Sofia Wolfson, “Obviously”
Julia Jacklin, “Get Away From Me (I Think I’ll Love You Soon)”
Squirrel Flower, “Reelin”
Widowspeak, “The Hook”
BASIC, “Brutalist With Filigree”
Tara Clerkin Trio, “Lazy Daisy”
Pool Holograph - Melody Cage
Slippers, “Castaways”
Casual Technicians, “Higher Power”

What I watched:

Carlos (directed by Olivier Assayas)

I’m nowhere near being a completist on Olivier Assayas’ films. What I’ve seen so far has been smart, sometimes satirical, and personal dramas about making art and working in cinema (Irma Vep, Clouds of Sils Maria, etc). My first exposure to his political thrillers (like Wasp Network, The Wizard of the Kremlin, and Demonlover) came with watching his three-part TV miniseries Carlos, which tracks decades of the real-life ‘70s terrorist, Ilich Ramírez Sánchez. Better known as “Carlos the Jackal,” Ramírez Sánchez was a Venezuelan national who in 1975 held an entire OPEC delegation hostage as part of the Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP). Played by an electric Édgar Ramírez, Carlos is womanizing, reckless, violent, and narcissistic, and Assayas’ direction is seeping with tension and harrowing depictions of brutality. It’s an immersive look at the turbulent state of ‘70s geopolitics and armed conflict, complete with era-appropriate costuming and set design. Despite its near six-hour runtime, this was a thrilling series that never lagged.

What I read:

The Age of Football: The Global Game in the Twenty-first Century (by David Goldblatt)

I kicked off 2026 by devouring David Goldblatt’s absurdly detailed, ambitious, and comprehensive 1000+ page The Ball Is Round: A Global History of Soccer. Even though I was on a break from writing this newsletter in January, it still took me almost a month to finish. With the World Cup fast approaching, I wanted to tackle his 2019 follow-up, The Age of Football: The Global Game in the Twenty-first Century, before the tournament began. With this one coming in around 600 pages, I managed to breeze through it by comparison. (Kidding: it still took me a couple of weeks). I truly believe that if you watch this sport closely enough, you’ll learn a lot about history, politics, immigration, and power just through osmosis. (The circumstances and execution surrounding this World Cup are a particularly good primer in present-day global affairs.) In fact, this is the thesis of Goldblatt’s book: that class war, inequality, corruption, hope, and beauty all play out simultaneously in the sport. His continent-by-continent approach was staggering, and the trajectory of the beautiful game since 2000 has directly mirrored the world’s. While not as hopeful as his first sweeping history, you’ll still come away informed and with a greater appreciation for soccer’s ubiquity through history and struggle.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

The 40 Best Albums of 2026 So Far

Josh Terry — Thu, 04 Jun 2026 14:01:59 GMT

No Expectations. (cover image by Zack James)

Note to subscribers: It’s an unusually long newsletter this week. You’ll have to click a button to read the whole thing if you’re using email. Sorry!

My favorite annual post at No Expectations has always been the Midyear Best Of roundup. It’s a chance for me to reflect and take a snapshot of 2026 so far. (It’s also less pressure than the exhaustive EOY list.) I’ll re-listen to everything I already wrote about and remember what made me love these albums in the first place. I’ll put on a new record and be transported to where I first checked it out: how it boosted my mood and got me out of a bad day. I’ll hear an LP and think of my best friend from home loving it too and texting me about every pre-release single. I’ll recall catching a show by a new-to-me band that blew me away. I’ll think back to drinking beers with a bud and showing them why I was so excited about a particular full-length. I can’t tell you how much fun it was to revisit everything.

I’ve been writing about music for a long time now: 14 years. While the majority have been for publications like VICE, RedEye Chicago, the A.V. Club, and more, the four most rewarding of those have been with this newsletter. This writing project has allowed me to search deeper, trust my tastes, and find off-the-beaten-path music. I don’t have to convince an editor that something’s worth covering. I don’t have to care about an artist’s streaming numbers, social media followers, or nebulous hype: I just have to like the songs. Below, I’ve included artists I’ve loved my entire career, others I recommended years ago on this website, and several more are recent discoveries. I think it’s a pretty eclectic mix: you’ll find folk from Western Canada, spiritual jazz from a Brazilian living in Italy, Manchester dance-punk, and of course, indie rock from my home in Chicago. That’s just a small smattering of what’s on offer here.

My only real rubric for these sorts of things is “Did I love it?” I’m a 34-year-old living in Chicago running this blog, which means that I can’t get around to everything. Sure, you won’t see many more acclaimed and notable LPs that are rounding out the bigger outlets’ lists, but you will hopefully find something to dig into and cherish for the rest of 2026 and beyond. I launched No Expectations to champion what I think other music websites should highlight, and in doing so, I’ve realized even more how edifying it is to look at music locally, to seek out what’s on the fringes. You can pay hundreds of dollars to see the biggest names pack stadiums, or you could spend $20 at your local, independent, and small venue and maybe discover the future of music from the talented acts playing there.

You’ll notice that there are 40 albums blurbed, but below all of that, there are another 40 LPs listed at the very bottom. So far in 2026, I wrote about 66 full-lengths. I still highly recommend all of them. Because I listened to and loved more than that, the most seasoned subscriber will likely find a few more releases to dig into. Also, it goes without saying, but if your favorite thing from 2026 isn’t featured here, there’s still a chance I write about it later in the year (or it’s just not all that good).

This newsletter is still a one-man operation. That means that it’s reader-funded and supported. I write this thing in my spare time after work. It’s unpaywalled and stays that way thanks to the generosity of my readers. If you discover a new favorite band here, please buy their record or a ticket to a show. If you have money left over, I’d encourage you to sign up for a paid subscription. It’s $5 a month, which in my neighborhood is the cost of an Old Style tallboy plus tip. If your budget is tight, please don’t pay for this. Instead, tell a bud. I still believe the best music writing feels like talking to a friend, and if you have one who likes these sorts of tunes, share this list with them. You can also post about it on social media: I’m not online there as much as I used to be, but compliments from internet strangers on Instagram, Reddit, Bluesky, Twitter, Facebook, Xanga, Livejournal, the Ultimate Guitar forums, and the Jack Anontoff fan Discord server are always welcome.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar is here this week. If you want a playlist featuring selections from each album blurbed, here are links to Apple Music, Spotify, and Tidal. (Please note that a few of these albums are Bandcamp-only.) Also, because there’s a lot to dig into here, there’s no newsletter next week, but No Expectations will return 6/18.

Here’s the spiel for new subscribers: Each week, you get a wildcard main essay (often new album recommendations), a 15-song playlist, as well as updates on what I’m listening to, watching, and reading. Sometimes you’ll get an interview with an artist I love, and other times it’ll be a deep dive into one band’s discography or 7,000 words on the Grateful Dead. Since I’m a Chicago-based writer, this newsletter is very Midwest-focused. So, if you live in this city too, you’ll also receive a curated roundup of upcoming local shows to check out at the bottom of every regular newsletter.

Abbey Blackwell

Dream a Day

Abbey Blackwell is a Seattle-based artist who, over the past few years, was a founding member of La Luz and worked as a touring bassist for Alvvays. (If you caught any of the Blue Rev tour, you’ve seen her play.) Her solo work is more understated, but it soars with overwhelming grace. Her latest LP, the Bandcamp-only Dream a Day, is the best album of 2026 that you can’t find on streaming services. Blackwell’s voice, rich, lush, and full of character, anchors these verdant folk songs. “Rise and Set” is sparse but intentional, quietly building with pops of lap steel, dreamlike guitars, and drums. As a bandleader, she knows when to swell and when to pull back. Take “The Voice,” which finds her singing, “Looking over my shoulder at the view / Feeling older as the days go tripping through.” It starts off like a Labi Siffre song, but as the band subtly comes into the mix, it becomes something grander. Few of her peers can get the small details right as well as she can, which makes for a jaw-dropping record of revelatory little moments.

RIYL: Norma Tanega, Vashti Bunyan, Andy Shauf

Bandcamp

Brad Goodall

Hometown

I first met Huntington, West Virginia’s Brad Goodall almost a decade ago, when he was playing keys in the fantastic, underrated indie rock band Ona. In 2022, he showcased both his whip-smart humor and virtuosic instrumental talent on his first solo LP, Made in America. Where that record boasted outrageously funny, character-driven tales of male desperation and insecurity that would make Donald Fagen blush, his new one is an emotional 180-degree turn. On its follow-up, he trades acerbic jokes for heartfelt introspection, while never losing his step for timeless piano-driven songwriting. Goodall was born and raised in West Virginia, but left for stints in New York City and North Carolina before coming back to join a band with his childhood friends. True to its title, Hometown grapples with the complicated but fond feelings of returning to where you grew up. “We Made It” deals with the highs and lows of spending your twenties in a touring band, opener “Proximity” with finding love, and “River Water” the tiny revelations that come from spending time alone outside. These nine songs are such a graceful and winsome listen, in no small part due to Goodall’s knack for sophisticated pop melodies, his diligent study of the songwriting greats, and his inarguable charm.

RIYL: Bruce Hornsby, Warren Zevon, Leon Russell

Bandcamp

Charlotte Cornfield

Hurts Like Hell

Canadian folk artist Charlotte Cornfield’s songs have long had an “in the room” feel to them: not just from the organic, live-sounding recordings but from the way her lyrics are so perceptive and piercing that they feel like she’s letting you in on a secret. Hurts Like Hell, her sixth LP, is her most confident and lived-in release yet: likely because it’s Cornfield’s first full-length since becoming a mother in 2023. There are slice-of-life observations throughout, a sample line on the stunning “Long Game” goes thusly, “We were all listening to Neil Young / You said your favourite record was Zuma / I always took you and your sense of humour / To end with your hand in mine.” Her voice, which strains and dances over the melody in unexpected ways, is the album’s strongest asset. She harmonizes with Feist on single “Living With It,” snarls on the rocker “Lucky,” and imbues lines like “I never reach out and you never call / Another season in the city, another reason for it to pour” on “Number” with powerful emotion. Few records this year feel as inviting.

RIYL: Feist, Neil Young, artists whose government name could be a made-up stage moniker but isn’t

Bandcamp

Cola

Cost of Living Adjustment

I have been writing Tim Darcy’s music since 2014, when he was making sublime and memorable post-punk with his old band, Ought. (I probably played “Beautiful Blue Sky” 200 times in 2015 alone). In 2020, Darcy and Ought bassist Ben Stidworthy formed Cola with Toronto drummer Evan Cartwright, putting out two consistently good LPs with Fire Talk Records. While I’ve enjoyed everything so far, their latest and third LP, Cost of Living Adjustment, hit me like a ton of bricks. For just a trio, this is a pummelling art-rock record. They can lock into a delectable groove easily and stretch it out without wasting a second. “Hedgesitting” is nearly five minutes of undulating rhythms, buzzsaw guitars, and Darcy’s icy, chameolonic melodies. Another track, “Haveluck Country,” is jaunty and wonky, but it’s held together by Stidworthy’s dexterous, trudging, and sturdy basslines. I’m expecting this or the magnificently nervy Stuck LP to claim the title for my favorite post-punk album of 2026.

RIYL: Stuck, Protomartyr, Parquet Courts

Bandcamp

Dry Cleaning

Secret Love

South London post-punk outfit Dry Cleaning released 2026’s first universally acclaimed LP with their third effort, Secret Love. While it took me a while to fully wrap my head around the immersive and ingenious art rock that the band achieves on this record, it’s the one I revisited most to start the year. Recorded in spurts between Jeff Tweedy’s The Loft in Chicago, as well as studios in Dublin and the Loire Valley with producer Cate Le Bon, this is an LP that excels at brooding world-building, wry humor, and genuinely surprising instrumental flourishes. Bandleader Florence Shaw oscillates between a laconic spoken word delivery and electrifying singing. On the funny and sarcastic “My Soul / Half Pint,” she takes on the gender disparity in domestic labor as she intones, “I feel resentment in my soul / Maybe it’s time for men to clean for like, five hundred years.” Elsewhere, the righteous and haunting “Blood” tackles witnessing horrors on the phone, drone warfare, and desensitization. When it truly shines is when the band indulges their poppiest sensibilities, like on the twangy and buoyant “The Cute Things.” This is a record that becomes more worthwhile as you allow yourself to get on its wavelength.

RIYL: Cate Le Bon, Life Without Buildings, Porridge Radio

Bandcamp

Friko

Something Worth Waiting For

Friko’s songs are feverishly energetic and totally alive. It’s music that’s boisterous and galvanizing, full of big artistic swings and bigger emotions. That’s true on their breakout 2024 debut LP, Where We’ve Been, Where We Go from Here. But their latest, Something Worth Waiting For, is their most forceful statement yet. Recorded with John Congleton, it’s an LP where they’re really going for it and pull it off: hearkening back to an era where rock music had drama, emotional stakes, and ample flair. It’s no shock that frontman Niko Kapetan grew up idolizing David Bowie. Songs like “Choo Choo” are frantic and explosive, with surging guitar chords and Kapetan yelping, “Pile up interstate and we’re in a rush/ Driving on state-to-state like we’re on the run.” Kapetan and his bandmates, drummer Bailey Minzenberger, bassist David Fuller, and guitarist Korgan Robb, excel at the slow build and the towering crescendo throughout these nine ripping songs. Take “Alice,” which is gleaming and plaintive up until its soaring final minute, where Kapetan solidifies himself as one of the genre’s most dynamic and thrilling vocalists.

RIYL: David Bowie, Geese, Modest Mouse

Bandcamp

Hazel City

goblynmarkytt

Clay Frankel, the Chicago-based songwriter best known for his bands Twin Peaks and Grapetooth, has been exploring intimate and openhearted folk music since 2023 under the moniker Hazel City. It’s been a surprisingly low-key direction for him, combining his proclivity for memorable melodies with his capacity for gutpunch emotions. With goblynmarkytt, he follows up his debut, Old Friend, with a much more lush and collaborative full-length. The first voice you hear on opener “Bat” isn’t Frankel’s, it’s Free Range’s Sofia Jensen. Throughout the LP, other guest singers like Squirrel Flower’s Ella Williams, Angeleyes’ Emily Neale, and Lileana Moore appear throughout the tracklist, harmonizing with Frankel or taking lead vocal duties entirely. The writing, especially on songs like “Fifteen,” is some of the rawest of Frankel’s oeuvre, and the dreamlike “Cotton” might be his most beautiful song yet. While it rarely rises above a whisper, it leaves a lasting impression.

RIYL: Chicago, Midwestern vulnerability, Andy Shauf

Bandcamp

i26connector

Even if you think we’re at “peak indie rock bands with a pedal steel player,” let alone “peak indie rock bands with a pedal steel player from Asheville, North Carolina,” I’m here to tell you that i26connector are more than worth your time. Their self-titled full-length is one of my favorite debuts of 2026, an all-around airtight and efficient collection of casual lyrics, booming riffs, and wailing twang. Composed of members of other Western NC bands like Tombstone Poetry, Idle County, Headringer, and Seven and a Half Giraffe, the seven songs on i26connector manage to be genuinely fresh and exciting entries in a crowded genre. Where the first couple minutes of opener “Spirit Manger” seem like effective and tempestuous indie-twang, it quickly dissolves into blazing punk for its final 40 seconds. On “i26connector,” Caelan Burris sings, “They tore down my buddy’s house / To build the I-26 Connector / And I don’t think they gave him much money / Or time to make arrangements,” which is a hell of a way to kick off a song. The tone on this record can oscillate between barroom chats and apocalyptic brooding, but no matter what, it’s always thrilling thanks to Burris’ clear-eyed lyrics and pedal steel player Will Elliott’s silky leads. Shoutout to the essential North Carolina blog New Commute for the initial rec.

RIYL: Actually good pedal steel playing, Greg Freeman, Magnolia Electric Co., songs titled after the band name

Bandcamp

Jana Horn

Jana Horn is a talented and itinerate folk singer who’s quietly built a sturdy catalog of understated and excavating songs. An Austin native, she’s had stints in Virginia as an MFA candidate in fiction before ending up in Brooklyn, where she released her third LP, Jana Horn. Her most minimalist effort to date, it’s also her most stirring and lucid. Sharing the easygoing grace of her Texas to NYC compatriot Katy Kirby, Horn demonstrates a scalpel-like attention to detail in her sparse, evocative lyrics and a thoughtfulness that lends gravitas to her dreamy, unhurried arrangements. The gradual momentum in a standout like “Unused,” where Horn’s voice glides over plaintive keys and shuffling drums, is gorgeous. The same goes for “All in bet,” where she sings, “Without all, what is left? / I’m honestly asking.” This is music for introspection, for long walks home after a weird night, and accepting life’s changes you can’t control.

RIYL: Saying a lot in as few words as possible, getting out of Texas, subtle pianos, and ample acoustic guitars

Bandcamp

Joe Glass

Snakewards

Joe Glass plays bass in Lifeguard frontman Kai Slater’s power-pop project Sharp Pins. While his relentlessly fun sophomore LP Snakewards channels a similar well of Nuggets, mod, and ‘90s indie rock exuberance, the Rockford, Illinois, and Chicago-based tunesmith has been churning out earworm rippers long before he joined his endlessly prolific bandmate. His debut, 2022’s Slither, showcases his penchant for an airtight hook across a dozen slightly twangy ramschackle rockers. (A record that would have been a No Expectations favorite had I heard it upon release). On his follow-up, however, that winning formula gets a tweak with more ramped-up energy that evokes the ebullience of Elephant 6 and deliriously fuzzed-out guitars.” Opener “Dust on Your Halo” opens with a blast of noise that sounds like the intro to “You Only Get What You Give,” only to dissolve into squalling riffs. “New Pose” is all fervid punk swagger while a bluesy thump bolsters “Oscar’s Midnight Ride,” but the record really shines when Glass leans into his unassailable pop sensibilities. Though every song is catchy, on tracks like the standout “Man Lost His Diamond,” he reaches jangly transcendence. The whole thing rules. It’s such a thrill to hear younger generations of local rock talent channel this music.

RIYL: Hallogallo, The Empty Bottle, a Chicago Handshake

Bandcamp

John Andrews & the Yawns

STREETSWEEPER

Despite their name, the New York-based John Andrews & the Yawns don’t make sleepy music. Sure, you could call it mellow, cozy, or even dreamy, but there’s enough unassailable craft in these finely-written songs to keep you enthralled throughout the nine tracks on their fifth LP, STREETSWEEPER. The album gets its title from Andrews’ part-time job with the New York City Parks Department, and with its hockey imagery on the cover and in its accompanying music videos, it’s easy to imagine skating to these easygoing songs. His voice is amiable and inviting. Even if he’s singing sad songs, you can picture a sly smile on his face just from his delivery. “The Last Word,” the jauntiest rocker on the record, picks up the pace with Andrews singing, “don’t always have to get the last word in / over and over and over / again and again and again / oh no.” Songs like “What’s Good?” take on the quality of a lullaby with lines like “Make it up as I go” over wobbly arpeggios. While Andrews gets assists here from members of Cut Worms, Luke Temple, and Star Moles, it’s his colloquial affability that carries this quietly staggering album.

RIYL: Loving, Major Murphy, Liam Kazar, that “Old Time Hawkey” social media account that pops up on my feed because I follow the Detroit Red Wings

Bandcamp

Kevin Morby

Little Wide Open

Kevin Morby’s longevity as one of indie rock’s foremost bards can be explained by his wide-eyed curiosity, his fascination with America and its songwriting traditions, his ceaseless kindness, and his diligent work in finding the mystical in the Midwest. The Kansas City musician might be the artist I’ve interviewed most, and whether it’s just chatting about baseball or introducing him to Jeff Buckley’s music, I’ve admired both his generosity and his openness, which translates perfectly to his astounding folk-rock oeuvre. He’s rightfully earned his army of marquee supporters, from Nathaniel Rateliff to Mavis Staples and the National’s Aaron Dessner, who produces Morby’s eighth and best studio album, Little Wide Open. What makes him a special writer is how he’s able to tap into the profound, like on past songs “Beautiful Strangers” or “A Coat of Butterflies,” but here, these near-spiritual stakes wrap around each of its 13 tracks. With a runtime around the hour mark, this is Morby’s biggest swing yet. The opener is bravely titled “Badlands” but earns its moniker. Joy permeates throughout the bouncy single “Javelin” while an encircling guitar riff gives “100,000” some road-ready psychedelia. Lucinda Williams shows up to duet on the highlight “Natural Disaster,” lending gravitas and wisdom to a tune already swimming in it. If these pristine, bucolic songs don’t comfort and challenge you, then nothing in his catalog will.

RIYL: Bob Dylan’s New Morning and Desire, Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove, the Midwest

Bandcamp

kitship

am i a rock?

In 2023, Minneapolis songwriter Amaya Peña moved to Chicago and quickly found a home in the city’s music community. Where their solo material veers on understated guitar-based folk, they’ve played with the indie rock group Starcharm (fka Soft & Dumb) on drums and have collaborated with acts like Memory Card, Sharp Pins, and TV Buddha. They also appear on the new RED XEROX compilation that documents the best of the Chicago youth DIY movement from 2020-2025. Earlier this spring, Peña dropped am i a rock?, an eight-song LP of effortlessly satisfying acoustic singer-songwriter and lowkey indie rock fare. Peña’s voice is soothing and commanding, but it’s the way they can write a melody so immediately memorable that carries the release. From the shocking tempo changes and primitive flute in opener “song for avi,” to the childhood nostalgia that imbues the earworm twee of “i wish to be like you,” this is a record full of subtle, exemplary moments. Recorded with Sharp Pins and Lifeguard’s Kai Slater (who appears in a duet on “i’ve got a secret”), it’s lo-fi but not decidedly retro, choosing to instead center a truly imaginative and welcome voice in the burgeoning and vibrant scene.

RIYL: Norma Tanega, Horsegirl, Frankie Cosmos

Bandcamp

Liz Cooper

New Day

Great albums aren’t just collections of really good songs. They should also boast eclectic tunes that are commendable in drastically different ways, but cohesive enough to live comfortably as a singular body of work. Liz Cooper’s latest LP, New Day, passes this rubric with flying colors. It’s the first full-length in five years for the now-Vermont-based artist, and it feels like a reinvention. Across 10 incontestable tracks, it’s a masterclass in endearing hooks and vibrant, slyly psychedelic arrangements that she co-produced with Dan Molad. As a frontperson and bandleader, Cooper is fierce and charismatic, with personality-filled yet affecting writing. Two of its singles, “IDFK” and “Sorry (That I Love You),” transform melancholy into wistful pop bliss, with the latter featuring lines like, “Do you think about me? / I think I’m better now, I hope you’re better now,” On the haunting string-laden “Changes, she channels Radiohead, but on the punchy “Boy Toy” and closer “Baby Steps,” you’ll hear shades of Feist. Few records this year are as charming and impressive as Cooper’s breakthrough.

RIYL: Broken Social Scene, Crumb, doing your best work a decade into your career

Bandcamp

Mandy, Indiana

URGH

Mandy, Indiana’s songs somewhere between club music at its most caustic and noise rock at its most danceable. The Manchester-thrives on percussion first chaos: each song contains rhythms so dense and disorienting that it’s hypnotic. On URGH, their second LP and first with Sacred Bones Records, they add even more scorching intensity, harsh electronics, and off-kilter drumming to an already winning formula. On the single and live staple “Magazine,” skittering, jackhammer beats dissolve into a squall as Valentine Caulfield shouts in French. “Cursive” features frenzied, boiling synths while “Sicko!” gets an assist from rapper Billy Woods. Beyond that guest appearance, the only time you’ll hear English lyrics comes in the snarling, righteous closer “I’ll Ask Her,” which is a torrid and lucid take on sexual violence that turns rage into catharsis. Inventive, raw, and unrelenting, I bet I’ll revisit this throughout the year.

RIYL: Percussion as lead instrument, music that makes you want to run through a wall

Bandcamp

Marta Del Grandi

Dream Life

Dream Life, the latest LP from the rising Italian auteur Marta Del Grandi, is as playful as it is inventive. It’s 10 tracks of off-kilter and unfussy indie pop that, while deceptively simple on first listen, reveals new joyful wrinkles the more you dig into it. Her voice is bright and welcoming as she sings of climate anxiety on the rollicking funk of “Antarctica,” but delicate and wistful on the title track. “Gold Mine” broadcasts her deftness at left-field arrangements while the folksy “Alpha Centauri” culminates in purifying harmonies. Woodwinds, horns, and squiggly synths pockmark the compositions, imbuing life-affirming color to the entire LP. You can hear shades of Kate Bush, the ambitious vocal harmonies of Finom, and the avant-garde experimentalism of Laurie Anderson here. It’s an absolute delight, front-to-back.

RIYL: Núria Graham, Dirty Projectors, Talking Heads

Bandcamp

Mildred

Fenceline

Oakland’s Mildred started with four friends listening to Silver Jews records, drinking beers, and slowly writing breezy and affecting folk rock songs whenever the quartet was all in the same city. Yes, this definitely is an origin story that I can get behind, but the band’s debut, Fenceline, is one of the most clearly in my wheelhouse records I’ve heard in a very long time. Though each member is involved in the songwriting process, guitarists Henry Easton Koehler and Jack Schrott, along with bassist Matt Palmquist, share vocal duties and harmonies throughout. Throughout the record, their voices oscillate between a laconic, Bill Callahan-style and a full-throated delivery that evokes Pacific Northwest folkies like Damien Jurado or Robin Pecknold. Simultaneously conversational and perceptive, the lyrics can careen from hyper-specific to evocative and absurdist (a sample line on the opener goes, “And the leaves on the ground were UPS brown”). On the marvelous title track, Easton Koehler triangulates the difference between J.J. Cale’s “Magnolia” and Bobby Charles’ “I Must Be in a Good Place Now” with loping, melancholic chords and lines like, “And I’m adopting a highway, yea / Just to try things my way / Going to paint the median blue / Plant all your favorite flowers too.” Peppier numbers like “Fish Sticks” and “Fleet Week” add needed energy to the laid-back tilt of the record. While sure, there’s a song here called “Mumblecore Melody,” but this really feels like a hangout album: lived-in, pleasant, and wholly edifying.

RIYL: J.J. Cale, Bobby Charles, Bonny Doon

Bandcamp

Momoko Gill

Momoko

Momoko Gill has been a fixture of London’s sprawling jazz community, mostly as one of its most in-demand drummers and collaborators. She’s guested with Alabaster DePlume and Tirzah, but in 2025, she put out Clay, a co-release with the acclaimed DJ Matthew Herbert. She teams up again with Herbert for Momoko, her proper solo debut. It’s 11 tracks of breezy soul, sinuous jazz, and occasionally, staticky electronics and brooding strings that evoke the cutting-edge Copenhagen left-field pop scene. Gill is an unmissable singer, with a warm and welcoming croon that dances over these lush arrangements. A descending piano chord progression enlivens the melancholic “2close2farr” while a looping cascade of violins gives the haunting “Anyway, I’m Drowning” its propulsive core. On the slow-burning banger “No Others,” a plucky bass line and a ricocheting percussion section lend it ample complexity. She manages to tread an exceptional tightrope here: making songs that are so appealing you could confidently show anyone, but unpredictable enough to impress the most seasoned listener.

RIYL: Astrid Sonne, Tirzah, NTS Radio

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My New Band Believe

Whenever I come across an acclaimed band that I don’t love, I usually write it off as “not for me” and forget about it. With Black Midi, the disbanded English experimental rock group, their music was so interesting and audacious that I kept thinking I was an idiot for not fully connecting with it. I may try again (along with the singer Geordie Greep’s solo LP), because of the astounding inventiveness of bassist and co-vocalist Cameron Picton’s My New Band Believe. While it’s just as chock-full of ideas as his prior group, My New Band Believe contains drama, an arc, and a profound emotional resonance that make it an instant favorite of 2026. Songs flow from one to the next, and with only one album cut as a pre-release single, this LP is best experienced in a front-to-back listen. Picton, who enlists the U.K. rock collective Caroline as his studio band, uses almost entirely acoustic instruments on the record, but they’re all performed with maximalist flair and feverish energy. The arrangements, both nostalgic and alien, evoke musical theater, British folk, jazz, and prog. From the sweet domesticity of a track “Love Story” to the opener “Target Practice” with its menacing “Don’t cry / you deserve this,” this album somehow both sits out of time and at the cutting edge.

RIYL: Van Dyke Parks, Destroyer, Bert & John (1966)

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Nashpaints

Everyone Good Is Called Molly

When the Irish musician Finn Carraher McDonald isn’t collaborating with his countrymen Princ€ss and Maria Somerville, he’s making music as Nashpaints. It’s a ghostly pop solo project that first released an LP in 2020, and now has followed it up with the glittering and beguiling Everyone Good Is Called Molly. It’s a deliberate and expansive album that comes to life via an undistracted headphones listen: you’ll be enveloped by the aqueous, hazy textures in the production and enthralled by the wealth of references from ‘60s girl groups, to ‘80s dream pop, ‘90s shoegaze, and the contemporary Copenhagen experimental-pop scene. Standouts like “Stretching” feature delicate arpeggios and cavernous reverb, “Boyfriend First” balloons near the seven-minute mark with gnarly, fuzzed-out guitars, and “Desire” features a crystalline, chiming chord progression that feels like the Velvet Underground fed through a music box. Like Cindy Lee’s Diamond Jubilee, this is a deeply nostalgic record that pines for something that doesn’t exist. Alien and alive, it’s a captivating and confounding full-length.

RIYL: Escho, Cindy Lee, buying records on Boomkat

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Natalie Jane Hill

Hopeful Woman

This is an instant album of the year contender. Natalie Jane Hill is a Texas-raised, Western North Carolina-based songwriter who made an impossibly lush, confident, and stunning album in Hopeful Woman. Earlier this year, I was floored when I saw her perform most of the songs totally solo, opening up for Friendship. But on record, the arrangements get a verdant and earthy full-band treatment, and it’s even more awe-inspiring. The cosmic, simmering single “Never Left Me” is hazy with wailing pedal steel and galloping acoustic strums, while the introspective “Colors” gets twinkling pianos and resplendent strings. Hill’s voice is full, expressive, and piercing when it needs to be, especially when she sings lines as devastating as this from “Blue Is the Color of My Sun:” “And the hardest part of the day / Isn’t when you look away / It’s when you’re right there.” Throughout, every note, arrangement flourish, and lyric is intentional and near-flawless. It’s a record that is overwhelmingly gorgeous on first impression and masterful on each subsequent listen.

RIYL: Sandy Denny, Karen Dalton, timeless songwriting

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National Photo Committee

Red Hot Photo Committee

At the very beginning of the year, I was sent a link to an unlisted YouTube video that contained the Chicago band Red Hot Photo Committee’s debut album, Red Hot Photo Committee. Even though it was an unmastered upload, I was instantly hooked. It was raucous country-tinged bar rock fronted by a gravelly and acerbic frontman, aided by spidery pedal steel. Sure, that’s more than a well-trodden genre at this point, but these eight winding tunes are refreshingly caustic, combustible, and carefree. That early link was pulled offline within a week, but now the LP has been mastered and officially released at the beginning of the month. It’s even better than I remember. Frontman Maxwell Bottner has a resounding baritone and a chatty delivery as he sings about daily anxieties on “It’s Hard.” Following an intro of thundering chords and crashes of drums, he sings, “It’s hard to be living / it’s hard to be alive / It’s hard times coming / and they’re coming all the time.” Bottner and his bandmates allow the songs to stretch out—only one track clocks in under four minutes. The 11 and a half minute “Gizzard” is an epic suite of moody verses and muscular guitar jams, while the white-hot “Adelaide” kicks into an even higher gear in its final third with a blistering sax solo from local shredder Curt Oren. One listen to any tune here, and you’ll know that this Chicago group puts on a wild and life-affirming live set.

RIYL: Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band, if Slanted and Enchanted-era Pavement had a pedal steel, Dusk

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Nilza Costa

Cantigas

Few artists can traverse musical borders as seamlessly as Nilza Costa. Born in Salvador, the capital city of the Brazilian state of Bahia, she comes from a Yoruba family and has lived in Bologna, Italy, since 2006. In her hypnotic and commanding music that draws from jazz, samba, jùjú, and funk, she combines the musical traditions of all her homes into something singular and breathtaking. Her latest album, Cantigas, finds her singing in Yoruba, Kimbundu, and Brazilian Portuguese. Each song is imbued with a unifying spiritual gravitas and an almost prayer-like devotion to repetition and groove. Backed by a crew of Italian backing players, Costa’s voice soars on tracks like the shapeshifting, heavenly “Ogum suite,” and the smoldering “Logunede.” But on the lovely “Oxumare,” she glides over a smooth, near-loungey composition. This is a jaw-dropping record that had me transfixed from the first listen.

RIYL: Afro-Brazilian folk traditions, percussion-forward arrangements, jazz

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Ora Cogan

Hard Hearted Woman

British Columbia’s Ora Cogan has made spectral folk music that’s melded drone, experimental, and psychedelia over the past two decades. Where her earlier oeuvre leaned cavernous and haunting, her latest material is a more refined approach to songwriting that never loses a bit of her all-consuming risk-taking. Hard Hearted Woman, Cogan’s latest LP and first for Sacred Bones, mines dusky country and smoky soul for her most triumphant full-length yet. There’s an elegance to her melodic sensibility, which levitates over this jam-minded, exploratory, and ‘70s-inflected compositions. Where opener “Honey” incorporates bluesy riffage and airy choruses, “Division” is twilit drama with foreboding bass and spooky backing harmonies. For all the majestic and atmosphere-minded flourishes and multifaceted grooves, this is an LP that keeps its heart closer to timeless songwriting. As a bandleader, Cogan’s right at home commanding the woozy and rustic “Love You Better,” especially as she croons, “Oh, the words that you say / Pierce like stars in my mind / Warm, and cruel, cold, and kind.” It’s a tune that could’ve come out 50 years ago, but feels just as relevant and essential now.

RIYL: Mikaela Davis, Julie Byrne, Marissa Nadler

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Otto Benson

Peanut

Otto Benson is a New York-based artist who, until New Year’s Eve, had only released glitchy and bubbly electronic music under a variety of monikers. But Peanut, his latest full-length, is a pretty but austere collection of guitar-based folk. Across 10 mesmerizing tracks, it centers Benson’s subtle, bassy croon, which evokes Arthur Russell, Ted Lucas, and Porches. While the mix rarely rises above a whisper, the LP is a reliably engaging listen with Benson’s knack for undeniable melodies. Songs like “Red and Neon” and “Raisin” are so immediately hummable, it’s striking. Shimmering pedal steel from Henry Munson and lead guitars from Sean Quinn add color to songs like the mournful “Drive Away,” as Benson adds humor to the melancholy with lines like, “Buried in the snow in my underwear / Someone made voodoo dolls with my hair.” While it’s refreshing to hear an adventurous electronic artist try a more analog palette, it’s even more rewarding to hear someone so gifted at this new lane.

RIYL: Selling your turntables and buying guitars, Arthur Russell, reinventions

Bandcamp

Pearla

Song Room

The Brooklyn via New Jersey songwriter Nicole Rodriguez makes introspective, cloudlike, and spellbinding folk-pop as Pearla. Her arrangements are spare but luxuriant, with enveloping omnichord, delicate acoustic guitar strums, and subtle drums. Her latest and sophomore effort, Song Room, is her most dynamic and searching full-length. Songs like “Be Around,” with its steady bass line and hair-raising harmonies, inject volume and texture to what could’ve been an understated affair. “You Didn’t Do Anything Wrong, You Just Broke My Heart” is mournful, neon-lit Americana, while a warm blanket of fuzz dissolves into the sensational acoustic number “Sky Is White.” These are songs that you can burrow into, elegantly rendered and chock-full of earned emotional resonance.

RIYL: Margaux, Katy Kirby, Advance Base

Bandcamp

Ratboys

Singin’ to an Empty Chair

Ratboys might be Chicago’s easiest band to root for. I’ve been writing about them for over a decade, and witnessing them refine and expand their anthemic and sturdy brand of indie rock has been such a joy. Where the shift from their 2015 debut, AOID, to this year’s masterful Singin’ to an Empty Chair is striking, each record in between has been a measured but tangible evolution. They’ve done everything right and should be a model for similarly-minded groups looking for longevity and intra-band chemistry over blowing up quickly. After over a decade, this record feels like a true breakthrough moment for the quartet, thanks to the riveting earworms that make up its 11 tracks. With production from Chris Walla (Death Cab for Cutie), these songs sound massive from the lilting twang on “The World, So Madly” and the hectic shredding of the six-minute “Light Night Mountains All That.” As a frontperson, Friend of the Newsletter Julia Steiner is electric. She’s a warm singer and an earnest lyricist, who coos, “Will you look me in the eye / And promise that you’ll stay with me / ‘Til the sand meets the sky?” on the song-of-the-year contender “What’s Right.” This is how indie rock should be.

RIYL: Open-hearted indie rock, friendship, Wild Pink

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Resavoir

Themes For Dreams

Will Miller has been a good Friend of the Newsletter for over a decade. The Chicago-based trumpeter, producer, and composer was a touring member of Whitney for a while and started Resavoir, which, in a live setting, morphs between a solo outlet, rotating band, and full-blown orchestra. Themes For Dreams is Miller’s first self-released LP and first project with an ultra-specific goal in mind: making music to set in motion a perfect night’s sleep. The 13 tracks here are more interesting than sleepy, but they’re calming and cooperative doses of enveloping ambient jazz. He enlists guests like Marta Sofia Honer and Jeremiah Chiu, as well as Macie Stewart, Molly Rife, and Matt Gold. It’s my favorite project he’s done yet, something that I’ve been revisiting nearly constantly since he first sent it over in late 2025. There are warm tones of a Hohner pianet, immersive sounds of Miller’s EVI (an electronic valve instrument that feels tailor-made for his melodic sensibility), and, of course, his soaring trumpet leads. Sure, this is me being a homer for my bud, but I’ve been a fan for longer than I’ve been a friend. I’m really proud of him. There are some truly mesmerizing songs here.

RIYL: A good night’s sleep, calming jazz, springtime in Chicago

Bandcamp

Robber Robber

Two Wheels Move the Soul

Robber Robber, alongside their Vermont compatriots Greg Freeman and Lily Seabird, might be the band I’ve written about most in this newsletter. Its drummer, Zack James (Dari Bay), even made No Expectations’ logo and designed the weekly cover images. They are all now dear buds, but even if they weren’t, I would be fully in the tank for this quartet’s cyclonic and innovative brand of post-punk. Opener “The Sound It Made” instantly bursts with a shrieking riff, skittering breakbeats, sinister bass bombs, and bandleader Nina Cates intoning, “Nice ice block, runs hot, give a little, take a lot / Lean a little closer for a moment, moment, stop.” It’s a record that excels on the collision between the volatile unpredictability of its rhythm section and Cates’ sticky, earworm hooks. Single “Talkback” takes Meet Me in the Bathroom-era alt-rock swagger to 2026, while the chiming percussion of “Avalanche Sound Effect” is genuinely hypnotizing. For a band with such a unique and distinctive sound in a crowded genre, Two Wheels Move the Soul is a remarkably diverse record. “Imprint” is wistful slowcore, “Watch For Infection” is icy and nervy punk, and “New Year’s Eve” is bouncy, funky, and more than a little poppy. Yes, I might be biased, but this is the best indie rock record of 2026 so far.

RIYL: The magical music community of Burlington, Vermont, the future of indie rock, Fire Talk Records

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Spoils

Mile Wide Inch Deep

Spoils, a quartet from Cincinnati, Ohio, make indie rock that’s so anthemic and immediate it’s a shock that Mile Wide Inch Deep is only their debut album. Many of the tracks here date back five or six years ago, and the band has honed their lived-in chemistry and songwriting chops across a few EPs and countless gigs. These seven airtight songs hearken back to an era of aughts alt-rock when artists made their sound as arena-filling and massive as possible. With big riffs and bigger hooks, you’ll hear shades of the Pixies (“1000”), find melodies with a swirling intensity (closer “Dark Miller”), and get impossibly infectious choruses stuck in your head (“Brain Damage”). This is no-frills rock music: professional, but not too polished, catchy, but not sugary. I kept checking to make sure they weren’t secretly signed to some big label, but this is just a talented Midwestern band doing the damn thing better than most.

RIYL: Momma, Indigo De Souza, Slow Pulp

Bandcamp

Star Moles

Highway To Hell

Star Moles, the folk-pop project of New Hampshire native and Philadelphia resident Emily Moales, finds a true spark in casual approaches. Her last LP, one of 2025’s best, was called Snack Monster and was tracked largely via a Tascam recorder. A minute into her phenomenal follow-up, Highway to Hell, Moales catches herself singing a wrong lyric, pauses briefly, and mutters something on the mic, and corrects course. It doesn’t detract from the song, a soaring ‘70s-inspired opener that’s cheekily called “The End.” Rather, it adds intimacy and charm: the two winning qualities make this one of the year’s clear standout albums. She’s perceptive and funny on songs like “Time,” which kicks off with a line like “Sometimes I think I’m making a friend when I see a smiling face / but then it comes to an end / They get whisked away.” On “Overdog,” she’s singing as if she’s simultaneously letting you in on an inside joke and allowing you to read her diary,” when she says, “I need you like I need a hole in my head / I need a hole in my head / How else could I sing?” For the low-key facade these songs are wrapped in, Moales makes songs that sound timeless and effortless. A sneaky stunner of an LP with a whimsy and theatricality that’s enchanting.

RIYL: Harry Nilsson, playful piano, Fiona Apple, loose and breezy writing

Bandcamp

Stuck

Optimizer

With releases titled Change Is Bad, Content To Make You Feel Good, and Freak Frequency, Chicago band Stuck have long transformed anxieties surrounding the tech-aided degradation of daily life into caustic and abrasive punk music. Their latest, Optimizer, manages to be their most lucid and rousing take on this subject, as well as their most undeniable, adventurous, and melodic collection of songs. Frontman Greg Obis targets “one quick trick” manosphere influencers on the scorching “Instakill,” where he yelps in a spitfire verse, “Cutting sugar, exercising / reading, writing, organizing / mindful habits, minimizing / judgy thoughts and criticizing” and intones, “you can change your life / for a limited time.” His writing tends to focus on people trying to do good, but are trapped under the weight of impossible goals or under the thrall of nefarious actors. On the clanging “Deadlift,” he sings, “I never feel so alone / when the weight hits the floor.” It’s consistently stirring and anthemic, with ample post-punk iciness and the occasional nervy detour into DEVO-esque freneticism. Obis is a Friend of the Newsletter who I’ve known since he’s been in bands like Clearance and Yeesh, and he also runs Chicago Mastering Service and has mastered countless releases by No Expectations favorites like MJ Lenderman, Deeper, Ducks Ltd., and Moontype. His contributions to independent music in this city alone are incalculable, but this, alongside his bandmates David Algrim and Tim Green, is his best work yet.

RIYL: Meat Wave, Protomartyr, Deeper, Squid

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Sunday Mourners

A-Rhythm Absolute

Curation Records is the California label behind some stellar LPs by Pacific Range, Silver Synthentic, and Sean Thompson’s Weird Ears. Where much of their roster can be described as “excellent, jam-minded rock that’s indebted to the Grateful Dead,” Los Angeles quartet Sunday Mourners take more cues from C86, Flying Nun Records, and Pavement. It’s a tried-and-true formula that’s given a dose of needed energy and verve on the band’s latest LP, A-Rhythm Absolute. 10 tracks of blistering jangle and jumpy post-punk, the band also adds in some Meet Me in the Bathroom swagger into these herky-jerky anthems. It’s recorded with such a piercing intensity that it’s obvious this is a locked-in live band. Tracks like “Biograph” are searing and wonky, while “Darling,” despite stretching out for over 12 minutes, is compelling and tumultuous throughout. Despite the onslaught of clanging riffs and frenetic arrangements, frontman Quinn A. Robinson has a Sharp Pins-level knack for an infectious hook (“Love Observations”) but a scathing wit to boot. On opener “Careers in Acting,” he snarls over buzzsaw guitars, “Don’t make it big on the internet / It won’t help you / Gonna take up careers in acting / It won’t help you.” The whole thing rules.

RIYL: Kiwi Jr., Gang of Four, Television

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Thomas Dollbaum

Birds of Paradise

In November 2023, the New Orleans songwriter Thomas Dollbaum enlisted his friends, bassist Nick Corson (The Convenience, Lawn), guitarist Josh Halper, and drummer Jake Lenderman to record an album just outside of Oxford, Mississippi. Where all three of his bandmates are newsletter favorites and have their own first-rate musical endeavors, Dollbaum stands apart on the resulting LP, Birds of Paradise, with his keen, poignant writing and songs that teeter from roaring Americana to tender folk. Dollbaum’s biggest asset is his voice, a rangy and raspy baritone that conjures comparisons to David Bazan. (He also has a piercing falsetto that’s not dissimilar to Damien Jurado.) There’s both homey, golden-hour twang and a sense of urgency on songs like “Dozen Roses,” which also features a Lenderman-provided guitar solo. Elsewhere, “Pulverize” features jaw-dropping harmonies while “Coyote” contains some of my favorite lyrics of the year as Dollbaum sings, “Sitting with you on your rooftop you’re high and drunk / You’re ready to jump but you just fly away / And as you rose, you glimmered with gold before you burned out / Bet you’d set this house on fire just to watch it burn down.” Dollbaum’s been sitting on this record for years, but it sounds just as vital now as it did nearly three years ago when four buds decamped for a week to producer Clay Jones’ studio to hash it out.

RIYL: MJ Lenderman, Josh Halper, The Convenience

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Trinity Ace

Learning to Be a Cowboy on the Horse That Broke My Arm

Trinity Ace’s Learning to Be a Cowboy on the Horse That Broke My Arm is billed as an EP. While it is just six songs, it’s a far meatier and more interesting listen than most full-lengths released this year. (It’s also 41 minutes: much longer than the majority of albums I cover here). Whatever you call it, it’s obvious that this Bay Area songwriter is a one-of-one talent the minute you hear her sing. She boasts a layered and expressive voice that coos, wails, and glides over these six patient and often explosive tracks. There are shades of Elephant 6-exuberance (On Avery Island-era Neutral Milk Hotel) and 2000s baroque indie here (Beirut), but Ace is too singular an artist to conjure up a crude comparison. Take “Talisman,” which unfolds over seven minutes. While it initially feels like a dirge, it unfolds spectacularly into a cavalcade of strings, piano, and harmonies. Elsewhere, “Algae Bloom” is orchestral and brooding: a masterclass in tension and dynamics. Whatever she puts out next will be my most anticipated release of that year. Holy moly.

RIYL: Greg Freeman, Fiona Apple, Black Country New Road

Bandcamp

Tyler Ballgame

For The First Time, Again

For The First Time, Again is such a relentlessly likable debut record that it forced me to confront some of my own ill-considered knee-jerk reactions. Like books by their cover, I know you shouldn’t judge a musical act by its artist name, but I still do. (In his defense, he was born Tyler Perry, which probably explains why he’s going by a nom de plume.) I also tend to get suspicious when I see artists, who’ve yet to release their first album, mentioned everywhere: either in the press, on festival bookings, on social media, or on streaming apps. (To be fair, I probably just noticed it because his name is Tyler Ballgame.) A Rhode Island native who dropped out of Berklee, he found initial success with his powerful, rangy, and sometimes operatic voice at Los Angeles open mics. Now armed with an immaculate falsetto, a commanding charisma with a flair for vocal theatrics, and tasteful arrangements that translate a warm ‘70s-indebted palette, his first album is a joy. Where he’s garnered comparisons to Roy Orbison, Elvis Presley, and at least two Beatles, his dynamism as a frontman and singer carries the material from never falling into pastiche. Sure, it’s purposefully retro and mines a familiar well of American musical traditions, but songs like the boisterious “Matter of Taste” are incredibly galvanizing. “Got a New Car” floats like a dream while “I Know” highlights his versatility in nailing downtempo balladry. Produced by Jonathan Rado, a master of guiding artists into making classic sounds uniquely their own, this is a full-length that will disarm you.

RIYL: Classic crooning, really belting it out, music you can send to your parents

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Ulrika Spacek

EXPO

Formed in Reading and based in London, Ulrika Spacek makes art-rock that gleefully and tastefully blurs the lines between psychedelic, post-punk, and electronic music. Their last effort, Compact Trauma, was one of 2023’s clear-cut standouts, and their latest, EXPO, is sure to continue the streak in 2026. Darting and dizzying percussion, along with a brooding, angular riff, buoy the sparkling single “Picto” while breathy pops of synth illuminate the hazy “Weights & Measures.” Whether there are glitchy digital textures or live organic instrumentation, it all sounds pristine and intentional throughout these 11 songs. For all the freewheeling experimentation, there’s a graspable pop core here throughout, especially on the smoky and hooky “Build a Box and Break It.” Few bands since Stereolab and Sonic Youth are making songs as heady and intricately woven as Ulrika Spacek.

RIYL: The bleep-bloop Radiohead songs, Squid, Sonic Youth

Bandcamp

Victoryland

My Heart Is A Room With No Cameras In It

My Heart Is A Room With No Cameras In It is a tough record to pin down. Throughout its 10 vibrant and volatile art-rock songs, there’s so much going on, it’s staggering. The references stack up, and familiar sounds turned alien are relentless throughout the tracklist. There aren’t many clues in the Brooklyn-based artist Julian McCamman’s earlier oeuvre. He released his first LP as Victoryland in 2024, but that was a fairly straightforward collection of energetic, lo-fi indie rock songs. His old band, Blood, which disbanded two years ago, found him as a sideman guitarist. But his label debut feels like both a reinvention and an undeniable introduction to one of the most idiosyncratic and inventive voices in indie rock. “Keep Me Around” is bursting with energy, even as it unfolds into a warped funhouse version of Coldplay balladry. “I got god” is dance-punk turned space rock, while zipping, sampled strings turn closer “I’ll Show You Mine” into frantic folk-rock bliss. This is an LP that’ll keep you guessing, but will have you enthralled throughout.

RIYL: 2000s indie, late 90s radio rock, finding your voice after starting your own thing

Bandcamp

Villagerrr

Carousel

Columbus, Ohio’s Villagerrr has been a No Expectations favorite since March 2023, when main songwriter Mark Allen Scott was quietly releasing soft and devastating self-recorded folk songs. Since then, he’s been able to translate that searching, bedroom-made vulnerability into a full-band setting. Now that the live quintet has been solidified after tours with Friends of the Newsletter like Lily Seabird and Ratboys, their latest LP, Carousel, is their most extravagantly rendered, sweepingly emotional, and excellent yet. Singles like “Locket” are pockmarked with whirling fuzz and overwhelmingly winsome harmonies, while “Crystal Ball” enters territory that could even be called shoegaze. However, the expansive near-eight-minute “Virginia” has all the hallmarks of what makes this band spectacular: dazed twang, a bashful, lackadaisical groove, and hushed but potent melodies from Scott as he sings, “When you’re alone and you’re drifting off like you’re out to sea / How in the world do you tell yourself what’s real and what’s fake?” No band is better at crafting Midwestern lullabies that will make you feel less alone.

RIYL: Teethe, Lily Seabird, Greg Mendez

Bandcamp

youbet

While both members of Brooklyn’s youbet have worked as music instructors (frontperson Nick Llobet was the School of Rock teacher whose student was Dominic DiGesu of Geese), the duo’s latest self-titled LP is such an innovative and surprising take on indie and alternative rock that it’ll inspire a younger generation of artists who weren’t their literal pupils. Listening to youbet, you’ll hear the pummeling swagger of grunge and the wonky riffage of recent bands like Ovlov, but it’s performed in such a distinctive way that it feels totally one-of-one. Side A barrels out of the gate with combustible and unpredictable rockers: “See Thru” and “Receive” are frantic and searing, while “Fertile Eyes” is bouncy and propulsive. As it gets to its final tracks, it’s apparent this band isn’t content to solely shred. “Nadia” is marked by circular, fingerpicked acoustic guitars, woozy organ elevates “Embryonic,” while closer “Bad Choice” exudes simmering, slowcore moodiness. Whenever someone claims that rock music is stale and derivative, show them this LP.

RIYL: The Smashing Pumpkins, Sword II, Warehouse

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40 More Stellar LPs From 2026 Worth Your Time

Accessory, Dust // Age of Peace, Ode to Life // beaming, horseshoe // Beck Zegans, Engraving of Armor // Brown Horse, Total Dive // Carla dal Forno, Confession // Courtney Marie Andrews, Valentine // Daffodil-11, Daffodil-11 // Dagmar Zuniga, in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music // Dialup Ghost, Donkey Howdy // Doll Spirit Vessel, Bow // Double Extra Large, Other People // Ellie O’Neill, Time of Fallow // Feeble Little Horse, bitknot // Feller, Sound Colored Penny // Gawshock, Leaves to the Sun // Gia Margaret, Singing // Gladie, No Need To Be Lonely // Greaseface, Brick & Mortar // Hiding Places, The Secret To Good Living // Jackie West, Silent Century // Jeff Parker & ETA IVtet, Happy Today // Jo Passed, Away // Lala Lala, Heaven 2 // Mod Lang, Borrowed Time // Neurosis, An Undying Love for a Burning World // Pileup, Leave the Light On // Red PK, Horse Like Me // Remember Sports, The Refrigerator // Sean Thompson’s Weird Ears, Inner Principle // Shaking Hand, Shaking Hand // Shep Treasure, Blanket // Sluice, Companion // Sofia Kourtesis, DJ-Kicks: Sofia Kourtesis // Spencer Cullum, Spencer Cullum’s Coin Collection 3 // Spencer Hoffman, Cherry Picker // Symbol Soup, Stepping on the Same Rakes // Tomeka Reid, dance! skip! hop! // Touch Girl Apple Blossom, Graceful // vega, beacon, how blue // Wendy Eisenberg, Wendy Eisenberg // Winged Wheel, Desert So Green

No Expectations 147: Chevy

Josh Terry — Thu, 21 May 2026 14:01:20 GMT

No Expectations 147 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Dari Bay, “Chevy”

Thanks for being here. Chicago’s Twin Peaks returned to the stage for the first time in six years this past week for nine consecutive sold-out shows at Thalia Hall. They played completely different setlists and had totally different openers each night, with no day-off breaks. By the time this newsletter runs, I’ll have attended three, and I’m going again on Friday. It’s been the time of my life.

If there’s one band that encapsulated my twenties, it’s this one. (I probably saw them play at least 30 times throughout that decade.) I first heard about them before I even considered going into music journalism. In 2012, I was living in Rogers Park studying at Loyola, and I was a regular at a cozy, hippie-adjacent neighborhood spot for juice, sandwiches, and buffalo burgers called the Heartland Cafe. The place was owned by Twin Peaks’ singer/guitarist Cadien Lake James’ dad, and when I first encountered the band, I thought, “Oh, I recognize these guys from hanging around the Heartland.” When their debut 19-minute cassette Sunken came out in 2012 (which was sequenced in the exact order of their early show setlists), I dug it, but I didn’t totally buy in until I saw them live. Their sets felt like the future: raucous, alive, and anthemic.

When I finally wrote about them, reviewing their sophomore LP Wild Onion for the A.V. Club in 2014, I realized how much tighter, artful, and craft-oriented they were compared to their garage rock peers in Chicago and elsewhere. This wasn’t just chaotic energy and swaggering riffs, but incredible and eclectic songs, written with obvious care from three stellar songwriters. In 2016, I interviewed them for RedEye Chicago. We went to the Montrose Saloon, drank a couple of beers, and talked about their new album, Down in Heaven, which was another staggering level-up that featured a new member, the multi-instrumentalist Colin Croom. It’s been 10 years, and the piece is now wiped from the internet, but I remember the conversation being effortless: deep and insightful, but still pretty funny too.

After that article was published, we became buds. I’d see them around at pretty much every show that summer, and discovered a shared intense obsession over the Cubs and Bulls with bassist Jack Dolan. By the fall, they invited me on a short tour to write a story detailing daily life on the road. While my editors at the Tribune rightfully didn’t want to pay for a week of me hanging out in various cities with a band I liked, they did foot the bill for a couple of them and a Megabus ticket back home. Another cover story came out of it. Later, I’d appear for a brief moment (with a much shorter haircut) in their music video for “Wanted You.” On New Year’s Eve, they DJ’d my party at GMan Tavern that year with Whitney, Knox Fortune, NE-HI, and Finom. After that, I just wanted to be a friend: I abstained from writing about them until they hired me to do the bio/liner notes for their 2019 LP, Lookout Low. (Which, to date, is my sleeper favorite alongside my true alltimer, Sweet ‘17 Singles).

It’s hard to distill a decade-plus of friendship in a newsletter intro, but seeing these shows overwhelmed me. It brought me back to that specific, early twenties feeling where everything seemed possible. When you’re 24, and you find your people and realize that the thing you love most could become a career, the world feels boundless. By the time you’re in your thirties, things can change, but hearing these songs live for the first time in almost seven years transported me back to that zone of relentless optimism. I’d probably feel the same way witnessing songs as good as “Getting Better,” “Butterfly,” “Tossing Tears,” and “Keep It Together” even if I didn’t know these guys personally.

During the pandemic_, Twin Peaks took their first extended break since they were literal teenagers. Since 2020, the number one question I’ve gotten besides “When are you getting a real job?” is “When are Twin Peaks reuniting?” (Even when I knew, I never told!) Sure, as a fan, I missed seeing them play regularly, but as a friend, I’m happy they took time off. A handful of the guys got engaged and married, a few pursued different careers, one got sober, some released solo records, others toured with other bands like Waxahatchee, Kevin Morby, Whitney, and MJ Lenderman, and everyone grew up. When you figure out what you’re good at in your twenties (or, in their case, much younger), there’s a drive to keep making things, keep honing your craft, and keep pushing it. Especially with art, the arrow can’t go up forever. Something’s gotta give. Your path shouldn’t be linear; you can try new things, take a breather, recalibrate, and return to it when the vibe is right.

That’s exactly what they did, and these shows have been the best they’ve ever sounded. What’s really inspiring is that they put on this whole reunion themselves: they have no manager, no booking agent, and no PR anymore. They enlisted only their friends and trusted peers to make merch, conduct a live stream for two of the concerts, perform live projection art throughout the set, and round out the live band. You can do things on your own terms, and it will end up better than ever. Sure, this showcases Chicago’s musical camaraderie, but it’s more a reflection of the band’s members: A wildly collaborative, welcoming, and kind group of people who, even after a six-year hiatus, put on the best rock show in the country. I’m so proud of them.

Note: I’m taking next week off to compile albums, catch up on releases I missed, and relisten to what I’ve already recommended for the 2026 No Expectations midyear list. I was on a good streak here (it’s my first absence since January), but with the upcoming holiday, I’d rather give myself the space to make sure I’m getting it right.

Three Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Age of Peace, Ode to Life

Cincinnati musician Micah Wu and Angie Willcutt make up half of the highly recommended and rising punk outfit Artificial Go, but together, they make spectral and cosmic folk pop as Age of Peace. Here, they eschew the frantic, herky-jerky intensity of their main band for verdant, simple, somewhat spooky songs that evoke the essence of ‘60s flower power folk. On their debut Ode to Life, eight songs are packed into a lean and spellbinding 23 minutes. Despite its rudimentary two-chord progression, the opener “For I Am Life Now” is wholly enveloping thanks to Willcutt’s wispy but full-throated vocals. While it rarely amps up beyond an ambling pace (the exception is the bluesy “Dead Alligator”), it’s never a slow listen. “Rainy Days” is cavernous and enchanting, while the spritely “Northern Trees” finds Willcutt singing, “I’m a hopeless romantic for the world around me / Take my hands to touch the northern trees / Send my kisses to the clouds above me.” This is a record that will make you want to touch grass.

RIYL: Jefferson Airplane, Bobby, Jessica Pratt

Cola, Cost of Living Adjustment

I have been writing Tim Darcy’s music since 2014, when he was making sublime and memorable post-punk with his old band, Ought. (I probably played “Beautiful Blue Sky” 200 times in 2015 alone). In 2020, Darcy and Ought bassist Ben Stidworthy formed Cola with Toronto drummer Evan Cartwright, putting out two consistently good LPs with Fire Talk Records. While I’ve enjoyed everything so far, their latest and third LP, Cost of Living Adjustment, hit me like a ton of bricks. For just a trio, this is an immersive and pummelling art-rock record. They can lock into a delectable groove effortlessly and stretch it out without wasting a second. “Hedgesitting” is nearly five minutes of undulating rhythms, buzzsaw guitars, and Darcy’s icy, chameolonic melodies. Elsewhere, “Haveluck Country” is jaunty and wonky, but is held together thanks to Stidworthy’s dexterous, trudging, and sturdy basslines. I’m expecting this or the magnificently nervy Stuck LP to claim the title for my favorite post-punk album of 2026.

RIYL: Stuck, Protomartyr, Parquet Courts

Trinity Ace, Learning to Be a Cowboy on the Horse That Broke My Arm

Trinity Ace’s Learning to Be a Cowboy on the Horse That Broke My Arm is billed as an EP. While it is just six songs, it’s a far meatier and more rewarding listen than most full-lengths released this year. (It’s also 41 minutes: much longer than the majority of albums I cover here). Whatever you call it, it’s obvious that this Bay Area songwriter is a one-of-one talent the minute you hear her sing. She boasts a rich and expressive voice that coos, wails, and glides over these six patient and often explosive tracks. There are shades of Elephant 6-exuberance (On Avery Island-era Neutral Milk Hotel) and 2000s baroque indie here (Beirut), but Ace is too singular an artist to conjure up a crude comparison. Take “Talisman,” which unfolds over seven minutes. While it initially feels like a dirge, it unfolds spectacularly into a cavalcade of strings, piano, and harmonies. Elsewhere, “Algae Bloom” is orchestral and brooding: a masterclass in tension and dynamics. Whatever she puts out next will be my most anticipated release of that year. Holy moly.

RIYL: Greg Freeman, Fiona Apple, Black Country New Road

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 147 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Age of Peace, “For I Am Life Now”
Trinity Ace, “Talisman”
Dari Bay, “Chevy”
Widowspeak, “Soft Cover”
proun, “Coloring Pages”
Cola, “Third Double”
Touch Girl Apple Blossom, “Vacation”
Slippers, “Wasted Tonight”
Mallory Hawk, “Revolver”
Thomas Dollbaum, “Pulverize”
Renny Conti, “Mona Lisa”
Kevin Morby, “Badlands”
The Bures Band, “Avon Valley”
Lowertown, “Mice Protection”
Villagerrr, “Virginia” (feat. Hotspit)

Gig recap: Robber Robber, Golomb, Starcharm at Schubas (5/13)

I try not to think about music as some competition. When I run a newsletter Best Of list, the LPs are always in alphabetical order rather than ranked. This is on purpose and will stay this way. My order would change daily, and I think, “I like this and you probably would too if you listened to it,” is a much more compelling argument than “this album is 12 numbers better than this other album I recommended.” That said, gun-to-my-head, Burlington’s Robber Robber have my favorite full-length of 2026 in Two Wheels Move the Soul, and Columbus’ Golomb put out the 2025 record I’ve revisited most this year. They shared a bill last week at Schubas, with Chicago’s Starcharm, and I couldn’t have had a better time. With regular drummer (and No Expectations’ graphic designer) Zack James on tour with Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Joe Taurone, who plays with Bruiser & Bicycle and Laveda, filled in. He ruled, and so did the openers’ phenomenally tight opening sets. I saw Golomb last in January, and I was awed then, but they’ve ramped it up spectacularly in just a few months.

Gig recap: Twin Peaks, NE-HI, Neptune’s Core, and V.V. Lightbody at Thalia Hall (5/14, 5/17, and 5/19)

There are a few things that have been really striking about this Twin Peaks Thalia Hall run. The first is how each show had a distinct flavor and was excellent in different ways: Thursday’s opening set was cathartic and airtight, Sunday’s was rowdy and nostalgic (they encored with all 19-minutes of Sunken, in order) and Tuesday’s was a slow burn, chill and exploratory until Jeff Tweedy guested for an encore of Faces’ “Glad and Sorry,” and his own Wilco tune “Spiders (Kidsmoke).” My weeklong joke has been that Twin Peaks is a jam band (Cadien was the first person who earnestly tried to get me into the Dead a decade ago), but with different setlists every night, a Grateful Dead “I Know You Rider” cover and a “China Cat Sunflower” tease in an “Blue Coupe” jam, a massive residency at one venue, and a closing Friday show with two-sets and no opener? I don’t think I’m kidding anymore!

The other awesome thing about this run is the openers. Next to Peaks, NE-HI were the first Chicago band roughly my age that I truly loved. Amazingly, I never wrote about them (we became fast friends), but to this date, they were the band whose breakup I took hardest. They disbanded in 2018—Jason Balla pursued his other projects, Dehd and Accessory, while Mikey Wells and James Weir started Spun Out (the latter two are now behind MV Wells and Blue Earth Sound, respectively). I could not have been more overjoyed to see them onstage for the first time since August 2018. Even though these guys are all in their mid-thirties, the energy was just as palpable as it was at the Empty Bottle in 2014. Each clanging riff, each onstage pogoing jump from the band’s members, and each singalong chorus made me so happy. There might not be a better two-LP run in Chicago indie rock history than 2014’s NE-HI and 2017’s Offers.

Beyond NE-HI, the rest of the opening slots highlighted both the band’s history and the future. On Friday, you had the young Matador band Lifeguard, Saturday was Peaks’ peers Pool Holograph, Sunday was an even younger local group Neptune’s Core, and Monday was newsletter favorite Free Range (who was also part of Peaks’ live band, a backing singer alongside Tuesday opener V.V. Lightbody, Sima Cunningham, and, for the latter shows, Macie Stewart). After Lightbody’s amazing set (with a five-piece band this time) on Tuesday, Finn Wolfhard opened on Wednesday, and Post Animal rounds out the initial eight-night run tonight. It’s both a celebration, a passing of the torch, and nine straight nights of amazing music.

The last observation is how much of a community this band built during this initial run. Even with more than a six-year break, people showed up in droves. I was surrounded by friends the entire weekend: I took my childhood best friend from Michigan on night one, a new bud, , the writer behind the great Hear Hear newsletter, graciously brought me to Sunday, and my girlfriend will close out the residency with me. I’ll look back on this run grateful for the music, but equally thankful for many relationships I made thanks to this band.

What I watched:

The Drama (directed by Kristoffer Borgli)

Kristoffer Borgli thrives in outrageousness. So far, the L.A.-based Norwegian filmmaker has oscillated between body horror absurdism (2022’s Sick of Myself) and collective unconscious surrealism (2023’s Dream Scenario), but he always imbues the material with a piercing, pitch-black satirical point of view. He’s a provocateur to be sure, but the outlandish situations depicted in his films never grate thanks to his airtight screenplays and electric casts. 2026’s The Drama might be his most realistic film, but it’s no less ridiculous a premise. An engaged young couple in Boston (Robert Pattinson and Zendaya) play a game of “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” days before they’re due to wed with their maid of honor and best man. The bride’s confession is truly shocking and throws the whole planned matrimony up in the air. True to any Borgli movie, there’s an increasingly escalating series of bad decisions, mishaps, and revelations that are as unexpected as they are cringeworthy. It’s a thrill to watch, and it’s maybe one of the most surprisingly romantic comedies I’ve seen in a long time.

What I read:

Transcription (by Ben Lerner)

When I picked up Ben Lerner’s latest and shortest novel, Transcription, I did not care that the reviews weren’t as effusive as you’d expect for a writer this acclaimed. With an oeuvre that boasts newsletter favorites like Leaving Atocha Station, 10:04, and The Topeka School, Lerner’s earned the right to be appointment reading no matter what the critics say. I wanted dazzling and cerebral prose from one of the greatest working authors, and that’s what I got over 144 pages in this slim book. Its protagonist is a writer tasked by a prominent magazine with interviewing his college mentor, an influential nonagenarian academic at Brown. On the way to the interview, the hero breaks his phone and decides to go through with the conversation anyway. It’s a premise that is frankly my nightmare (and why I always bring two recording devices no matter what), but I was really floored by the third section of the book, which shifts perspectives gracefully and produces some striking and humane observations on parenting. If you’re new to his work, maybe start with 10:04 or Leaving Atocha Station, but if you’re already familiar, this is more than worth picking up.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 146: Wild World

Josh Terry — Thu, 14 May 2026 14:03:59 GMT

No Expectations 146 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Fine Food Market, “Wild World”

Thanks for being here. My schedule is about to get pretty hectic. Fortunately, it’s not really work-related but all fun things. On Wednesday, I’ll be seeing newsletter favorites Robber Robber, Golomb, and Starcharm at Schubas. The following day, it’s the Twin Peaks and NE-HI reunion show at Thalia Hall. Friday is a dear bud’s birthday party, and hopefully, I'll manage to squeeze in an afternoon in-store performance from a band I dig and a drink with my childhood best friend, who, out of all weekends, chose this one to be in town. That’s just the next three days. While it’s stressful to type it all out like this, I’m looking forward to everything.

With this jam-packed calendar, I decided to switch things up and write about the music I’ve listened to for fun this year. No Expectations is typically focused on new tunes, but that doesn’t mean I only check out what’s released in a given calendar year. Album cycles aren’t real, and good music is good music no matter when it’s put out. A killer Grateful Dead gig from 1976 is just as stellar today as it was then, and a classic album can feel just as essential in 2026. So, an excellent under-the-radar LP that came out in 2025 should be worth your time now, too.

Music publications and fans can have short attention spans. It’s much easier to focus on breaking news, the recent trends, and the ephemeral online discourse. I’m guilty of this as well, but I can also admit it’s an unhealthy way to consume art. As a corrective, it’s nice to find something that resonates that’s not the present-day product of a PR campaign, a marketing push, or even a tour. At the beginning of the year, I started a running tally of “LPs I wished I had written about when they came out.” The list is now so long that I’ll probably never get around to writing about everything there, but these five full-lengths, all from 2025, are awesome. They’re vital listens today and will likely remain so years from now.

Note: I’m expecting to publish next week, but given everything that’s on my docket, there’s a small chance I'll hold off until 5/21 to rest and start work on the 2026 Midyear Best Of list.

Five Albums From 2025 That Are Worth Your Time Now

Candelabro, Deseo, Carne y Voluntad

At the beginning of the year, a friend texted me a link to Deseo, Carne y Voluntad, the sophomore album from Santiago, Chile’s Candelabro, and I was immediately floored. Thanks to bands like Caroline and Black Country, New Road, the sprawling orchestral version of indie rock is en vogue. Still, this septet stands out for its urgency and inventiveness, which enlivens the 14 adventurous songs here. Spiraling trumpets, cascading guitars, and feverish gang vocals pockmark each track, creating an atmosphere for pure maximalist catharsis throughout. Despite its gargantuan, nearly 80-minute runtime (nearly half of its tracklist stretches out over six minutes), it rarely lags. With touchstones of emo, post-rock, baroque folk, jazz, and indie rock at its most anthemic, this is an enthralling, hypnotic, and undeniable statement that makes you wish more bands went this big on their albums.

RIYL: Racing Mount Pleasant, Black Country New Road, The Mars Volta

Gabe ‘Nandez and Preservation, Sortilège

Early in my career as a music journalist, I was arguably better known for my writing on hip-hop than indie rock. It’s a formative genre that still means the world to me. Now, listening to a record as astounding as Sortilège, from New York MC Gabe ‘Nandez and producer Preservation, I realize I’ve been neglecting that part of my tastes in this newsletter. Across 14 tracks of crate-digging, globetrotting, and innovative beats, and ‘Nandez’s cool, raspy, and monotone delivery, it’s everything I want in a rap LP. Single “Shadowstep” is anchored by pulsating chimes and muddy, programmed drums, while “Bascinet” features foreboding twinkling piano. The guest features also shine: billy woods assists on “War” while Ze Nkoma Mpaga Ni Ngoko lends an electrifying verse in French on “Nom De Guerre.” Cerebral and captivating throughout, you’ll find shades of the no-frills experimentalism perfected by MF Doom and Ka, but the alchemy they find here is distinctly their own.

RIYL: Ka, MF Doom, Gang Starr

Mold Gold, I’m Sorry I Dropped You As a Baby

Mere Harrach is a St. Louis-based cellist and DIY lifer who plays in the post-punk outfit Piracy and has their own folk solo songwriting outlet in Mold Gold. Back in November, they released I’m Sorry I Dropped You As a Baby, a low-key collection of genuinely surprising and off-kilter folk-pop. The songs, which are all buoyed by Harrach’s idiosyncratic melodic sensibility, can feature mournful strings, skittering electronics, and moody synths. But no matter what, they always feel unique and wholly exciting. From the warped harmonies in “Yellow” to the sing-song eeriness of “Mississippi Kite,” and the pops of digital beats, airy keys, and acoustic guitar that pepper “Vulture,” it’s clear very few of Harrach’s peers are as one-of-one as they are. Special thanks to my friends at the Ugly Hug, my favorite site for music discovery, for the recommendation a few months ago.

RIYL: Star Moles, Lomelda, Prewn

Silvana Estrada, Vendrán Suaves Lluvias

Silvana Estrada is a Mexican singer-songwriter who hails from Coatepec, Veracruz. She specializes in rich, verdant, and graceful folk, which earned her a Best New Artist win in the 2022 Latin Grammys. I somehow missed her sophomore album Vendrán Suaves Lluvias (“Soft Rains Will Come”) upon its release last fall, but have revisited it regularly in recent months. Uniformly timeless and stunning, Estrada’s second full-length evokes acts like the Costa Rican-Mexican singer Chavela Vargas, the Canadian icon Joni Mitchell, and the enduring English songwriter Vashti Bunyan. “Dime” is a soaring, patient look at a failing relationship, while “Un Rayo de Luz” is impossibly lush, with circling classical guitars and swells of strings. Whether there’s a language barrier or not, letting these songs wash over you will be rewarding regardless.

RIYL: Joni Mitchell, Chavela Vargas, Hannah Frances

Wide Orbit, Introducing... Wide Orbit

Early last month, I watched a March Madness Final Four game at the neighborhood bar with some friends. There weren’t many people there: just some dudes playing pool and a small handful of regulars. We ended up chatting with one of the guys, who turned out to be Ryan Tuohy, the songwriter behind Chicago’s Wide Orbit. If you’re a music journalist, it’s not uncommon to meet musicians at a dive, but it is rare to come across a record that’s so up-your-alley so organically. Introducing... Wide Orbit combines loose rambunctiousness with a keen ear for classic ‘60s garage rock, jangle-pop, and ‘70s country rock. On this record, Tuohy, who formed the band when he was a student at Illinois State University, leads a group of six musicians who exude obvious chemistry and a knack for left turns. Standout songs like “Soil” and “Cough Drop (That’ll Cure My Cold Forever)” are both woozy and hooky, eschewing the straightforward rock structure for something groovier and surprising. Elsewhere, “Centipedes” and “Full of Feathers” are both doses of galvanizing bar rock ebullience. Sometimes taking an afternoon trip to the bar results in a new favorite band.

RIYL: Twin Peaks, Florry, Deer Tick

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 146 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Dendrons, “Indiana”
Candelabro, “Domingo de ramos”
Laveda, “Cellphone”
Paper Jam, “This and That”
Emily Yacina, “Meteor”
Wide Orbit, “Soil”
memory card, “Consuming Spirits”*
Charlie Johnston, “Ear to the Shell”*
Some Images of Paradise, “angel fossil”
The Guppies, “Kimba”
Mold Gold, “Vulture”*
Post Office Winter, “Their Whole World in a Single Teaspoon”
Gabe ‘Nandez and Preservation, “Shadowstep”
Silvana Estrada, “Dime”
Fine Food Market, “Wild World”

* = Charlie Johnston, memory card, and Mold Gold are not on Spotify.

Gig recap: Liz Cooper, V.V. Lightbody at Empty Bottle (5/7)

Liz Cooper’s New Day is one of my absolute favorite albums of 2026. It’s a spectacular listen front-to-back, but two singles, “IDFK” and “Sorry (That I Love You),” feel like future singalong karaoke classics: perfect pop songs with attitude, charm, and staggering hooks. When the now-Vermont-based songwriter announced a show down the street from me at the Empty Bottle with longtime Friend of the Newsletter V.V. Lightbody, there was no way I’d miss it. The gig lived up to my sky-high expectations: Cooper’s headlining set was far more rocking than anticipated, and Lightbody played several phenomenal new tunes off an as-yet-unannounced new LP. I can’t wait till I can talk more about what V.V. has in store. She might be Chicago’s best-kept secret, but that’ll change the minute folks hear these songs in their proper recorded form.

Gig recap: Melody’s Echo Chamber, Strange Lot at Thalia Hall (5/11)

My girlfriend and I share very similar musical tastes. While we agree on most things, our sweet spots tend to diverge. Where I lean more toward Neil Young there, she’s more Broadcast and Levitation Fest-adjacent psych rock. All the way back in October, she put the first Melody’s Echo Chamber Chicago show since 2012 on my calendar. While I remember loving Melody Prochet’s self-titled debut album 14 years ago, I came into Monday’s Thalia Hall show largely unfamiliar with her catalog. It didn’t matter because Prochet, alongside a band that included Dungen’s Reine Fiske, put on a spectacular performance. Her set was heavy on material from her 2012 LP, so I recognized more than I expected, but I adored everything they played. Special shoutout to Austin’s Strange Lot, which opened the show. They had exactly what I wanted in a new-to-me first slot of the night: serpentine grooves, menacing riffs, and icy post-punk vocals with tangible choruses.

What I watched:

Blue Heron (directed by Sophy Romvari)

Whenever I’m going to the theater with friends and end up choosing the film, it’s always impossibly sad. In the past few years, my closest buds have watched My Father’s Shadow, A Real Pain, and The Zone of Interest with me. It’s not that any of those movies aren’t amazing, it’s more that you’re emotionally taxed by the time you’re grabbing dinner and drinks afterwards. So, while I heard nothing but raves about Sophy Romvari’s piercingly personal first feature Blue Heron, I knew that it’d probably be best to head to the Gene Siskel Film Center solo. The film, which draws from the Canadian director’s own experiences, follows a Hungarian immigrant family who relocate to Vancouver Island in the 1990s. At first, it seems like an idyllic scene, but darkness, tension, and dread surround the oldest of three siblings. Romvari’s filmmaking is lyrical, transportive, and totally evocative: few movies have effectively captured the subtleties of a ‘90s childhood better than this one. There’s a truly inventive risk Romvari takes in telling this story in its final third, but she more than pulls it off. You’ll come away from this deeply feeling for every character, and newfound appreciation for one of cinema’s freshest voices.

What I read:

The Parisian (by Isabella Hammad)

Last year, I devoured both nonfiction history and contemporary fiction, but in 2026, I’ve gravitated towards historical fiction. Few of my recent forays into the genre have been as rewarding as immersing myself in Isabella Hammad’s rich, sprawling, and affecting debut novel, The Parisian. When it came out in 2019, Hammad, a British-Palestinian author, was somehow still in her 20s. It’s an awe-inspiring work, and not just for a first novel from a twenty-something. It spans three decades of the life of Midhat Kamal, a Nablus-born man who is sent by his successful merchant father to study medicine in Montpellier, France. Over the course of its sweeping but patient narrative set in France and interwar Palestine from roughly 1919-1936, Midhat becomes a man torn between two poles. He’s stuck between the cosmopolitan, European lifestyle and where he grew up; the responsibility of his new family or nurturing a lost love in France; his conflict-averse attitude, and the revolutionary fervor of his peers. What’s arguably more electric than the tormented interiority of its hero is how Hammad deftly moves through the history of Palestine as it moves from empire to empire, from Ottoman to British control. It’s clear from the gut-wrenching story and lived-in fine details that Hammad mines her family’s histories for this magnificent book.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 145: Fenceline

Josh Terry — Thu, 07 May 2026 14:01:42 GMT

No Expectations 145 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Mildred, “Fenceline”

Thanks for being here. In 2013, I had just graduated from college and lived around the corner from Cunneen’s Bar, a cozy neighborhood dive in Rogers Park. It’s a cash-only spot where you could split a pitcher of Sierra Nevada pale ale with a friend for $6 each. (I’m not sure what the prices are now, and I don’t want to know). Back then, the crowd consisted mostly of middle-aged locals who had strong opinions about the Mayor and Loyola grad students, who were mostly there for the cheap drinks and the low-key atmosphere. It still exists, and I’m guessing it’s still pretty much the same. There’s a Mayor Daley clock above the cash register, a pool table, and even a phone booth in the back. I love the place.

My former neighbor, Bill, bartended on Thursdays. Every week, he’d dip into the extensive vinyl collection behind the bar and play the same records. If he spun a Neko Case LP, that was your cue that it was almost closing time. Well before that, around 10 p.m., he’d play Bruce Springsteen’s Darkness on the Edge of Town. Until that point, I’d never done a full deep dive and only knew the Boss’ hits (“Dancin’ in the Dark,” “Born to Run,” “Born in the U.S.A.,” and that “Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town” cover). But hearing songs like “The Promised Land,” “Badlands,” and “Prove It All Night” every week, I realized there was no better time to have a Bruce phase than to be an underemployed 21-year-old aspiring music journalist.

That summer, I immersed myself in his catalog. I listened to everything front-to-back, from his first record, 1973’s Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J., to 2012’s Wrecking Ball. Sure, my momentum tapered off a bit after 1987’s Tunnel of Love, but I was totally enthralled. Springsteen’s songs are rock music at its most galvanizing, redemptive, and earnest. His musical universe is one of wide-eyed, blue-collar Americana: fast cars, late-night diners, ham & cheese sandwiches, loving your folks, and skipping town with your high school sweetheart. It’s a world where even if the underdog doesn’t win in the end, they’re understood and heard.

Despite my summer of Bruce, and revisiting the first few records frequently to date (“Rosalita” is probably my alltimer tune: the platonic ideal of what the Boss is all about), I still hadn’t seen him live. Until now. Last Wednesday, I went to the United Center with my good friend David Anthony. He’s a great writer and person who mostly covers punk, hardcore, and metal, but is also a major Bruce fanatic. We had talked about him taking me to my first show over a decade ago, and I’m so glad it finally got to happen.

Everything you’ve heard about a Springsteen concert is correct. It’s a totally communal, marathon set of optimism, anthems, and catharsis. At 76, he puts on a hell of a gig and so clearly gives it his all. I’d say something about seeing the legends while they’re still around, but it’s obvious Bruce has a lot more left in the tank. Still, you should go to a gig as soon as possible: you’ll feel like you’ve always been a part of it.

Some cool things: If you’re here because Friend of the Newsletter Julia Steiner of Ratboys mentioned No Expectations in an interview with Yasi Salek, thanks for signing up. Also cool: I was a guest on a podcast this week: AMDG: A Jesuit Podcast. It was an absolute delight. Mike Laskey was a perfect interviewer, and we went deep on music discovery, criticism, culture, my time at Loyola, as well as the surprising Jesuit connections in my family. I loved this conversation, and I can’t thank Mike enough for such a thoughtful chat.

Four Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Brad Goodall, Hometown

I first met Huntington, West Virginia’s Brad Goodall almost a decade ago, when he was playing keys in the fantastic, underrated indie rock band Ona. In 2022, he showcased both his whip-smart humor and virtuosic instrumental talent on his first solo LP, Made in America. Where that record boasted outrageously funny, character-driven tales of male desperation and insecurity that would make Donald Fagen blush, his new one is an emotional 180-degree turn. On the just-released follow-up, he trades acerbic jokes for heartfelt introspection, while never losing his step for timeless piano-driven songwriting. Goodall was born and raised in West Virginia, but left for stints in New York City and North Carolina before coming back to join a band with his childhood friends. True to its title, Hometown grapples with the complicated but fond feelings of returning to where you grew up. “We Made It” deals with the highs and lows of spending your twenties in a touring band, opener “Proximity” with finding love, and “River Water” the tiny revelations that come from spending time alone outside. These nine songs are such a graceful and gorgeous listen, thanks to Goodall’s knack for effortless, sophisticated pop melodies, his diligent study of the songwriting greats, and his undeniable charm.

RIYL: Bruce Hornsby, Warren Zevon, Leon Russell

Mildred, Fenceline

Oakland’s Mildred started with four friends listening to Silver Jews records, drinking beers, and slowly writing breezy and affecting folk rock songs whenever the quartet was all in the same city. Yes, this definitely is an origin story that I can get behind, but the band’s debut, Fenceline, is one of the most clearly in my wheelhouse records I’ve heard in a very long time. Though each member is involved in the songwriting process, guitarists Henry Easton Koehler and Jack Schrott, along with bassist Matt Palmquist, share vocal duties and harmonies throughout. Throughout the record, their voices oscillate between a laconic, Bill Callahan-style and an expressive delivery that evokes Pacific Northwest folkies like Damien Jurado or Robin Pecknold. Simultaneously conversational and perceptive, the lyrics can careen from hyper-specific to evocative and absurdist (a sample line on the opener goes, “And the leaves on the ground were UPS brown”). On the stunning title track, Easton Koehler triangulates the difference between J.J. Cale’s “Magnolia” and Bobby Charles’ “I Must Be in a Good Place Now” with loping, melancholic chords and lines like, “And I’m adopting a highway, yea / Just to try things my way / Going to paint the median blue / Plant all your favorite flowers too.” Peppier numbers like “Fish Sticks” and “Fleet Week” add needed energy to the laid-back tilt of the record. While sure, there’s a song here called “Mumblecore Melody,” but this really feels like a hangout album: lived-in, inviting, and wholly rewarding.

RIYL: J.J. Cale, Bobby Charles, Bonny Doon

Pearla, Song Room

The Brooklyn via New Jersey songwriter Nicole Rodriguez makes introspective, cloudlike, and captivating folk-pop as Pearla. Her arrangements are sparse but rich, thanks to an enveloping omnichord, delicate acoustic guitar strums, and subtle drums. Her latest and sophomore effort, Song Room, is her most dynamic and searching full-length. Songs like “Be Around,” with its steady bass line and explosive harmonies, inject volume and rich texture to what could’ve been an understated affair. “You Didn’t Do Anything Wrong, You Just Broke My Heart” is mournful, neon-lit Americana, while a warm blanket of fuzz dissolves into the stunning, acoustic number “Sky Is White.” These are songs that you can burrow into, elegantly rendered and chock-full of earned emotional resonance.

RIYL: Margaux, Katy Kirby, Advance Base

youbet, youbet

While both members of Brooklyn’s youbet have worked as music instructors (frontperson Nick Llobet was the School of Rock teacher whose student was Dominic DiGesu of Geese), the duo’s latest self-titled LP is such an innovative and surprising take on indie and alternative rock that it’ll inspire a younger generation of artists who weren’t their literal pupils. Listening to youbet, you’ll hear the pummeling swagger of grunge and the wonky riffage of recent bands like Ovlov, but it’s performed in such a distinctive way that it feels totally one-of-one. Side A barrels out of the gate with combustible and unpredictable rockers: “See Thru” and “Receive” are frantic and searing, while “Fertile Eyes” is bouncy and propulsive. As it gets to its final tracks, it’s apparent this band isn’t content to solely shred. “Nadia” is marked by circular, fingerpicked acoustic guitars, woozy organ anchors “Embryonic,” while closer “Bad Choice” exudes simmering, slowcore moodiness. Whenever someone claims that rock music is stale and derivative, show them this LP.

RIYL: The Smashing Pumpkins, Sword II, Warehouse

The No Expectations 145 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

i26connector, “Spirit Manger”
Gash, “Movie”
Cola, “Haveluck Country”
youbet, “Fertile Eyes”
knitting, “Here Comes”
Pope, “Song Two”
Jonathan Personne, “Rêve américain”
Hannah Cohen, “Golden Chain”
Mikaela Davis, “Mizmoon”
Samba Jean-Baptiste, “Swan Song (feat. Alana Markel)”
Pearla, “Be Around”
Luluc, “Rewarding Melody”
The Fruit Trees, “Unknown”
Mildred, “Fenceline”
Brad Goodall, “Hometown”

Gig recap: Bruce Springsteen at United Center (4/29)

Several things crystallized for me during my first Bruce Springsteen concert. The first is that the Boss sings about an idealized America: he believes in the goodness of people, the forward momentum of progress, and an unfailing hope that it’ll all work out. His catalog is rife with tales of the downtrodden and down-on-their-luck finding the silver lining and grabbing hold of it. It’s an ethos where if you don’t buy in completely, it won’t work. That said, it is very easy to get on board when you are surrounded by 18,000 people who have devoted most of their lives to following this songwriter on tour. It’s infectious and hopeful stuff. Another observation is that Bruce is the kind of performer so capable that, if you didn’t like a recorded tune (let’s say something from 2014’s High Hopes), you’ll likely love it when you hear the live rendition. You can come into a Bruce show wanting to hear one particular song, and you’ll come out of it forgetting that it wasn’t played. While I knew I wouldn’t get a “Rosalita (Come Out Tonight),” I did shed a tear during “The Promised Land.” Also, shoutout to Illinois legend Tom Morello for guesting on 12 of the 27 songs on the setlist. He truly understood the assignment of sitting in with the E Street Band. I get it. I’m bummed it took me so long to finally see him live, but I’m hooked now.

Gig recap: Pearla, Josh Halper, Max Subar at Color Club (4/30)

Josh Halper has been a good friend for the past few years. He’s one of my funniest buds: naturally hilarious and always kind. We first met when he was living in Nashville and bonded over a love for the Grateful Dead. Now he’s in Brooklyn, and I’ve seen him rip a few Chicago gigs as a dexterous guitarist for acts like Tommy Prine and Teddy & The Rough Riders. However, last Thursday was the first time I’ve seen him perform his own music. If you haven’t yet, check out last year’s Schlmiel, which was a newsletter-recommended LP. He only played one tune off that record, and saved the rest of his solo acoustic for unreleased songs from an unannounced album. Pearla’s headlining set was phenomenal, too, which also featured Halper as an auxiliary guitarist. Even with the stripped-down setup (two guitars and one omnichord), the tracks from Song Room came alive. Special shoutout to local opener Max Subar, who will announce his own solo full-length in the next couple of weeks. Color Club might be the best venue for an acoustic show in the entire city.

What I watched:

Under the Sun (directed by Vitaly Mansky)

Under the Sun was supposed to be a propaganda film. The North Korean government allowed the Ukrainian-born Russian filmmaker Vitaly Mansky to follow a Pyongyang-based family over three visits across a calendar year, but scrapped the production before they could finish. (Apparently, they found out the filmmakers had smuggled out unapproved footage and had hired a “sound assistant” fluent in Korean to keep an eye on their handlers). So, this movie is a documentary about the making of a would-be heavily-scripted, regime-run documentary. The family’s young daughter Zin-Mi is an elementary school student who is about to become a member of the Children’s Union: a government-mandated youth group. Her parents are shown working jobs that, thanks to title cards, they aren’t actually employed at. The film starts out matter-of-factly, and eventually, it abruptly cuts to show the government censors trying to steer the footage. Even when they depict the staged scenes as intended, the artifice and tension are obvious (the darting eyes, fidgeting hands, and unbearable anxiousness of its subjects are unambiguous tells). Transportive and terrifying, it’s a stark portrayal of totalitarianism and a rare look into an oppressive and secretive nation.

What I read:

Distant Star (by Roberto Bolaño)

Over the holidays, I read Roberto Bolaño’s Nazi Literature in the Americas, a fiction anthology of short biographies profiling imaginary fascist authors in all their mediocrities, self-delusion, and failed artistic endeavors. (This one I had to download on Kindle: I didn’t want to have to defend myself in public, saying, “No, don’t worry! It’s fiction! It’s satire! It’s actually anti-Nazi!”) The closing chapter, the most haunting and violent one, was expanded into a 1996 novella called Distant Star that was recently repressed last month with a new introduction from newsletter favorite novelist Ben Lerner. It follows a young Chilean poet who realizes that one of the writers who attended the same readings and meetings was secretly a high-up fascist following the 1973 CIA-backed coup of Salvador Allende. It’s a horrific, gut-wrenching story, but Bolaño’s impossibly vibrant prose makes it compulsively readable and alive with humanity. My goal is to become a Bolaño completist by the end of the year.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 144: Other Side

Josh Terry — Thu, 30 Apr 2026 14:04:26 GMT

No Expectations 144 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Rosali, “Other Side”

Thanks for being here. It’s good to be back. I’m happy to report that vacations work. I spent five full days in Arizona reading books, hanging with my girlfriend’s family, and driving around the desert. Though I came back to 1800 unread emails and my day job on Friday, I returned basically refreshed and stress-free. When I was in my twenties working as a freelance writer, I rarely took time off. I felt then that I couldn’t afford it: I worried I’d miss out on assignments, and come home with no money and more stress. But honestly, not giving myself a break those years only led to a cycle of burnout, anxiety, and prose of diminishing quality. You gotta relax!

When I logged out of work last Friday, a bud driving from California back to their home in Vermont needed a place to crash for a couple of days and rolled up to Chicago. We ended up going to four shows in 48 hours (including three on Saturday), hit some bars I had yet to show them, and hung out with a multitude of my friends here. It was an alltimer weekend. Had I been stressed out about deadlines, I wouldn’t have considered attempting to attend a trio of gigs in one night. That said, I’m so glad we went for it. We timed out the night perfectly across three venues. Somehow, we didn’t miss a single song from a headliner. If you’re a 20-something reading this blog, that sorta accomplishment might sound like a regular Friday, but you gotta remember I’m 34. Let me enjoy this.

The good vibes from both my vacation and my weekend kept me on cloud nine. Even though I’m seeing Bruce Springsteen on Wednesday and only had a day or two to write this newsletter, publishing a new No Expectations was a no-brainer. If you’re on edge and overwhelmed, I’d recommend using some PTO, going somewhere new, and giving yourself a breather. You’ll come back and realize whatever you were stressing about is probably not that big of a deal. You might even feel better.

Here’s the spiel for new subscribers: Each week, you get a wildcard main essay (often new album recommendations), a 15-song playlist, as well as updates on what I’m listening to, watching, and reading. Sometimes you’ll get an interview with an artist I love, and other times it’ll be a deep dive into one band’s discography. Since I’m a Chicago-based writer, this newsletter is very Midwest-focused. So, if you live in this city too, you’ll also receive a curated roundup of upcoming local shows to check out.

Four Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Carla dal Forno, Confession

At first listen, Carla dal Forno’s latest LP, Confession, appears to be a cozy, winsome, and breezy collection of sparse dream pop. The melodies are wistful, the arrangements minimal and buoyant, but on deeper inspection, there’s an unmistakable menace permeating. An Australian songwriter who went solo after stints in various post-punk bands, dal Forno’s lyrics paint a stark portrait of desperate loneliness, intoxicating obsession, and a palpable sense of dread. She coos on the chorus of opener “Going Out,” “You will belong to me soon / You will belong to me there’s no other way,” while on the title track, she sings, “The more you stay away from me, I want to see you all of the time.” She thrives at the intersection of vulnerable and haunting, like on the dreamy domesticity of “Under the Covers,” where she sings, “And we both know that we’re in luck, ‘cause not much changes / and that’s what we both want.” The many off-kilter charms of Confession lie in the tension of how dal Forno excels at both effortless pop and eerie iciness.

RIYL: Broadcast, Dry Cleaning, Twin Peaks (the show)

Double Extra Large, Other People

Chicago’s Double Extra Large is a band that originally formed downstate Illinois as the songwriting project of Charlie O’Neill, but soon evolved into a full collaborative group featuring Gabe Bostick (touring drummer for newsletter favorite Sleeper’s Bell), bassist Billy Goode, and guitarist Jack Fahey. Other People is their second album, a searing dose of spidery, guitar-driven indie rock that boasts dual vocals (between O’Neill and Bostick) and muscular riffs (that wouldn’t feel out of place on an LP released by Matador in the ‘90s or Exploding In Sound during the ‘10s). These nine combustible songs oscillate between jangly and anthemic. The blistering opener “Live Laugh Love” closes with a dizzying buzzsaw of octave chords, while “Getting There” is sparkling and pretty. For a certain fan of sturdy, winding, and unpredictable indie rock, this record will scratch an itch and make you want to see this band live ASAP.

RIYL: Hum, Built to Spill, Failure

Gawshock, Leaves to the Sun

There’s a tic you’ll notice in some people who write about music. Let’s say an artist wrote an album after a breakup and retreated to a Midwestern cabin in the middle of February to record. Chances are, the critic reviewing will say something, “it’s a perfect winter album.” No shit, man! While sure, Huntsville, Alabama’s Gawshock released their latest LP, Leaves to the Sun, in the middle of April, but there really is a springlike quality to these effervescent and intimate folk rock songs. Just listen to the opening riff of the title and tell me you’re not imagining a sunrise unveiling freshly bloomed flowers and lush greens. Songwriter David Broome shines in evocative and emotional compositions throughout these 11 songs, even though most never rise above a chill whisper. The warm synths and booming drums that pockmark “Grown Up” evoke Grandaddy, while the bouncy strumming and bubbly harmonies of “What Do You Dream About?” are pure yearning. While this is an undeniable lowkey record, it never feels low stakes.

RIYL: Pinback, Sparklehorse, Villagerrr

Gia Margaret, Singing

In 2018, Chicago songwriter Gia Margaret released a stunning debut full-length of sweeping, patient, and hazy songwriting called There’s Always Glimmer. The songs were washed in subtle electronics, delicate piano, and folk textures: all anchored by her serene, breathy, and dynamic voice. The following year, while touring that record, she came down with an illness that left her unable to sing. She pivoted: gravitating towards instrumental synthesizer music on 2020’s Mia Gargaret and organic keys on 2023’s Romantic Piano as she regained her voice, squirreling away lyrics and arrangements for when she fully recovered. That latter record led to a breakthrough, the TikTok-viral “Hinoki Wood,” but seven years after her vocal injury, Margaret is back with her first sung LP, Singing. It’s a triumphant return, full of grace, and a sprightliness to its 12 lush songs. There’s melancholy on opener “Everyone Around Me Dancing,” but an easygoing buoyancy on “Good Friend” (which closes with a Gregorian chant). “Phenomenon” is dusky downtempo electronica where she sings, “open up to me / like I am no stranger” while the aqueous and twinkling “Cellular Reverse” features backing harmonies from David Bazan. Singing is a testament to the slow burn: both musically and in its genesis. When you’re not worrying about timelines, but gradually tinkering away at your craft, you’ll likely come out with your most free and balletic work yet.

RIYL: Julie Byrne, Frou Frou, Cassandra Jenkins

The No Expectations 144 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Double Extra Large, “Live Laugh Love”
MORN, “The Standard Model”
Bondo, “Strummer”
Rosali, “Other Side”
Gawshock, “Leaves to the Sun”
Swapmeet, “Sand”
Styrofoam Winos, “Next Thing”
Lowertown, “Worst Friend”
Widowspeak, “No Driver”
villagerrr, “Carousel”
Aldous Harding, H. Hawkline “Venus in the Zinnia”
Carla dal Forno, “Under the Covers
Gia Margaret, “Phenomenon”
Brad Goodall, “We Made It”
Golomb, “Staring [Bliss Mix]” (ft. Laraaji)

Gig recap: Times New Viking, TV Buddha at Empty Bottle (4/24)

I have no clue why the Columbus band Times New Viking totally flew under my radar growing up. I’ve joked that when you’re raised in Michigan, there’s a de facto firewall on all pop culture from Ohio (in my case, Guided By Voices was a college discovery). I must’ve assumed that with a band name like that from the aughts, the music would be more twee and more folky (see: The Morning Benders, I’m From Barcelona, Noah and the Whale). While I’d later find out I was totally wrong (they make noisy, lo-fi, and relentless infectious indie rock that was dubbed “shitgaze” over 20 years ago), I never really dove in. That changed last Friday, when my friend arrived in Chicago and told me to buy a ticket to their show at the Empty Bottle and learn what I’ve been missing. After disbanding 14 years ago, Times New Viking are back playing frenetic and deliriously fun sets. When they first hit the stage, I realized that I had spent years hyping up so many bands who are direct rip-offs of this visionary midwestern group.

Gig recap: Gelli Haha at Schubas (4/25)

Gelli Haha’s Funny Music wasn’t just my favorite pop album of 2025 but also a clear AOTY contender in all genres. The art-pop project of Los Angeles-based songwriter Angel Abaya boasts immersive, playful, and nostalgic visuals, obvious charm and kooky humor, but also songs that are as catchy as they are inventive. It wouldn’t work if these tracks didn’t absolutely soar. She played her first Chicago show with two gigs at the small Lakeview Schubas. We caught the early one, and it was 45 minutes of pure joy. Her set was choreographed to the second, her dancers and band all costumed and delightful, and her voice nailed each towering falsetto and wail. There were props: trampolines (they were far more graceful than Phish, for what it’s worth), inflatables (dolphin-shaped, which made me hope that they brought enough on tour), pig masks (frightening), confetti (which worked in a tiny venue), and hula hoops (during the encore). I was grinning ear-to-ear the entire time. She’s clearly a star-in-the-making, but no matter what happens with her career, I’ll be talking about this show for the rest of my life.

Gig recap: Friko at Metro (4/25)

After the circus-like explosion of whimsy from the Gelli Haha show, my crew of five people had 20 minutes to trek across the neighborhood, find parking, and make it to Metro for Friend of the Newsletter Friko’s record release show. We got there with five minutes to spare and caught a commanding, electric show from the Chicago indie rock four-piece. I’m already a massive supporter of the group, but seeing this performance was awe-inspiring. They are already true rockstars who write big songs that will galvanize bigger and bigger rooms for years to come. There were no duds in the setlist, but I got goosebumps during the timeless “Alice” and the hysterically frantic rendition of “Choo Choo.” Also, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen the Metro that jam-packed and totally sold out.

Gig recap: Accessory at Empty Bottle (4/25)

There aren’t many artists I associate with the Empty Bottle more than Jason Balla. I spent my twenties watching him play there with bands like NE-HI and Dehd, and chances are, if he wasn’t performing that night, I’d see him at the gig anyway. On Saturday, he started his record release show for his new Accessory album Dust around 11 p.m. (We made it from Lakeview to Ukrainian Village just as he got onstage). It was a short set but a potent one. He brought a four-piece band that included keyboardist Ben Taylor as well as Deeper’s Nic Gohl and Shiraz Bhatti, who added an edge to the guazy, moody songs that appear on the record. It’s always a joy to see Balla and his bandmates live, and I’m thrilled the next one for me will be witnessing Balla lead NE-HI in their reunion to open up for Twin Peaks’ own reunion shows next month.

What I watched:

Give Me Liberty (directed by Kirill Mikhanovsky)

I’ve been doing something I call “Letterboxd Roulette.” I’ll log on to the film-centric social media site, look at my 2500+ movie watchlist, get overwhelmed by the plethora of options, and press shuffle. That’s how I ended up with Kirill Mikhanovsky’s chaotic and compassionate 2019 feature Give Me Liberty. While I don’t recall who recommended it to me first, I did know that it was a Sundance and Cannes favorite that won the Independent Spirit John Cassavetes Award that year. It’s a nervy, humane miracle of an indie movie that draws directly from Mikhanovsky’s life. Like the director at one time, the protagonist (an electric Chris Galust) is a young Russian immigrant living in Milwaukee who works as a medical driver transporting the elderly and disabled across town. In the movie, Galust’s Vic faces a series of increasingly comical and stressful obstacles that make him late picking up his clients: working-class and underserved people who depend on him. Throughout nearly two hours, it’s a Safdie-esque exercise in lived-in tension, but much funnier and alive. While I could quibble about some of its more experimental editing, especially in the final third, I loved this movie and want everyone to see it.

What I read:

Animal Dreams (by Barbara Kingsolver)

Before my trip to Metro Phoenix, I googled “Best Arizona Books,” and came across a listicle from Tucson Weekly that placed Barbara Kingsolver’s 1990 novel Animal Dreams at the very top. I know she’s beloved, but I’ve never read any of her works. While 1998’s The Poisonwood Bible has been recommended to me by nearly every mom I’ve ever met, it’s remained “on the list.” Also, I knew her 2022 bestseller, Demon Copperhead, was a retelling of David Copperfield, also a blind spot, so I never got around to that one either. But Animal Dreams, a quiet, gentle, and moving family drama, was a good entry point. It follows a listless woman returning to her hometown in Arizona in the 1980s. She has a medical degree, but never became a doctor. Fresh off a breakup, she’s still figuring it out. Her sister has moved to Nicaragua to help Sandinista farmers who are under siege from CIA-funded Contra guerrillas, and her dad, a respected local doctor, has just been diagnosed with Alzheimers. Meditative but simmering in dread and lingering trauma, it’s a good book to read on vacation.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 143: Something Worth Waiting For

Josh Terry — Thu, 23 Apr 2026 14:03:17 GMT

Friko, from left: Bailey Minzenberger, Korgan Robb, David Fuller, and Niko Kapetan (photo by Adam Powell)

Headline song: Friko, “Something Worth Waiting For”

Thanks for being here. If you’re reading this on Thursday, I’m currently on the final day of an Arizona vacation. I’ve hopefully made it through a book or two, gone out to some nice dinners, drank some beers by a pool, and relaxed enough to feel refreshed when I have to go back to work tomorrow. I’m writing this on Wednesday, April 15, so I have no idea if that’s the case. Maybe I missed my flight. Maybe I got food poisoning. Maybe I tripped during a desert hike and landed on a cactus. Either way, this No Expectations is scheduled out, and I’m staying off my phone to decompress.

This newsletter marks the return, after nearly a year, of No Expectations’ Taste Profile interview series, where I ask an artist I admire about three formative pieces of pop culture in their life and three more recent ones. You’ll also get a playlist (solidified on 4/15, so don’t expect any very new tunes), and a handful of recommendations. I plan to be back publishing the following week, but my schedule might get too hectic. As soon as I return from my trip, I’m hosting a friend in Chicago for the weekend and then seeing Bruce Springsteen for the very first time on Wednesday. There is a slim but real chance I will skip a week so I can go longer on my inaugural experience catching the Boss live.

Taste Profile: Friko’s Niko Kapetan

Friko’s songs are feverishly energetic and totally alive. It’s music that’s boisterous and galvanizing, full of big artistic swings and bigger emotions. I covered the Chicago quartet in the second-ever No Expectations in 2022, where I wrote, “Indie rock lately can feel insular and claustrophobic, but Friko isn’t afraid to make it feel huge, cathartic, and totally earnest.” That was true then, and even more so on their breakout 2024 debut LP, Where We’ve Been, Where We Go from Here. But their latest, Something Worth Waiting For, out Friday via ATO Records, is their most forceful statement yet.

Recorded with John Congleton, it’s an LP where they're really going for it and pull it off: hearkening back to an era where rock music had drama, emotional stakes, and ample flair. It’s no shock that frontman Niko Kapetan grew up idolizing David Bowie. Songs like “Choo Choo” are frantic and explosive, with surging guitar chords and Kapetan yelping, “Pile up interstate and we're in a rush/ Driving on state-to-state like we're on the run.” Kapetan and his bandmates, drummer Bailey Minzenberger, bassist David Fuller, and guitarist Korgan Robb, excel at the slow build and the towering crescendo throughout these nine ripping songs. Take “Alice,” which is twinkling and plaintive up until its soaring final minute, where Kapetan solidifies himself as one of the genre’s most dynamic and thrilling vocalists.

While I love Friko for being one of the city’s most exciting bands in a long time, they’re also basically my neighbors. Kapetan lives in the neighborhood, and the band’s practice space is steps from my apartment. Though it’d be clear from their live show that this is a locked-in group, I can tell you they rehearse a ton. If I’m walking to grab a coffee, there’s more than a 50-50 chance I’ll run into them outside. They’re also some of the nicest people making music here (a high bar), so it was a real no-brainer to interview Kapetan for the return of the newsletter’s Taste Profile series. Like his bandmates, Kapetan is charismatic and kind, and his three formative and three recent picks were all things I loved. Read on below for the full interview, and be sure to pick up the new album on Bandcamp.

Formative sport: Soccer

When I saw you at the Empty Bottle last week, we were talking about sports, and I had no idea you were going to choose soccer as one of your picks. Did you play growing up?

I played a bunch as a kid. My family is a classic Greek immigrant family. They owned a dry cleaning business, and they all played for our Greek church’s soccer team. My dad, who’s a big Tottenham Hotspurs fan, even played in college, so there was a lot of pressure around that growing up.

I played center back because I was always the biggest kid. I grew fast and then stayed there. Playing so much growing up informed the intensity that I put towards music. I never think of music as a sport, but there is an element of physical and mental endurance, especially on tour. You need to be able to push on even when it’s bad.

You guys were really going after it on the road with this last record. There were times I wouldn’t see you guys around the neighborhood for months. How did you handle being away for so long?

You’d be on tour opening for a band for two months, get a week’s break, and then have to go to Europe, do three weeks there, and then go to Asia for a few shows. That’s basically three months straight. You have to deal with performing, as well as the travel and time changes. But to be honest, it was great. If a band doesn’t actually all love each other, it’s gonna fall apart quickly, or you just stop talking to each other outside the stage. Every day you have to talk about something. It’s just how it is.

Beyond the physicality of soccer, it’s also the most team-based major sport. You could have the best player in the world, but you might not win a championship unless everyone is on the same page.

Especially with soccer, there’s a bigger emphasis on the team aspect than most sports. It’s also a very smart sport too. As a player, you constantly have to make a triangle to facilitate passing and movement. It’s the same thing on the road, but it’s more of a triangle of compassion, communication, and thinking about each other.

Formative album: Frank Ocean’s Blonde

It is insane to me that this album is turning 10 years old in August. What was going on in your life 10 years ago when you first heard it?

I was 16, and that was a time when I started listening to stuff other than classic rock or records that my dad put me on to. But when I first heard Blonde, I didn’t get it. A couple of years later, I heard “White Ferrari,” and it hit me like a rock. It basically just got me thinking about writing music, and how you could just do it in a way that’s completely outside of the idea of writing a classic song. Because up to that point, I really only tried to write songs like Bowie or the Beatles. In high school, my only go-to was the pop structure, but that record did something that resonated with me in every way: lyrically, melodically. The weird esoteric scope of it was amazing.

10 years ago, I was 24, and it was honestly such a good time to be hearing that record. I had already been covering music for a while, and that album had so many surprising production choices, unorthodox song structures, and his voice, it goes without saying, is unbelievable throughout.

That’s the tying force with all of this: how powerful his voice is. A once-in-a-generation type of talent. He introduced me to so many types of music: all hip-hop, rap, and R&B. When you grow up with a dad who is showing you the Smiths and the Cure, music I still love, getting into all this new music is such a joy. With the lyrics, you see how words work together in rap better than any other type of music. You won’t get that in like 99% of indie music. I love when singers put words together in a way that’s outside that realm of what you’d expect. It’s a different thing, but that’s sort of why I love Isaac Brock and early Modest Mouse. He had this weird, rhythmic style.

Very recently, I started really thinking about lyrics and writing them in a way where I feel comfortable in my own voice. I used to write lyrics because I had a melody and a chord progression, needed to write around that. I still do that sometimes, but now it’s very exciting to put lyrics first.

Formative album: Phillip Glass’ Glassworks

Glassworks is a record that I discovered in adulthood. How did you first hear it?

I was really into Illinoise, the Sufjan Stevens record, and he directly referenced Phillip Glass as an influence. The same goes for Blood Orange, who actually did an interview with Glass, which was super cool. I used to listen to Glassworks a lot in college. I went to Columbia College for one semester, and it was one of the worst few months of my life. I only made, maybe, one friend, and I used to go to Buckingham Fountain by the lake and listen to Glassworks. I’d stare at the lake or the Congress Hotel. I don’t know if it hit the same part of my brain that Blonde did, but it was a similar idea, where it was completely different than what I normally listen to. It had this quality of him being the pop artist of classical music. He just found his way into modern music, because I think he was just ahead of his time in seeing classical music as something that could have a pattern, as pop music does.

A few days ago, I saw that solo piano set you did at the Empty Bottle. I didn’t know you’d pick this album for the interview, but I could totally hear the influence in your playing.

Oh yeah. “Certainty” on our album is a complete rip of a Glass polyrhythm.

Recent book: Kurt Vonnegut’s The Sirens of Titan (1959)

If you were to turn the tables and interview me, Vonnegut would be a major contender for formative author, but I haven’t read him since maybe college.

Vonnegut’s books are so quick and easy to read. With Sirens of Titan, it just came to me at a time right before the last record was going to come out. Around then, I was feeling pretty lost, but I just read that, and it was such a beautiful story. It felt like he was making such a big statement, but in an almost goofy way at times. Along with Vonnegut, some of my favorite authors are Haruki Murakami and Ray Bradbury: both of them have a really graceful, beautiful way of writing. Vonnegut is just really likable, and I feel like my heart can just easily feel it as I’m reading him. I remember finishing Sirens of Titan and thinking that it just hit me at the perfect time in my life. You know, with some songs, sometimes they find you right when you need them the most. They might not be the most perfect thing, but when you get it at the right time, it will always be more special, no matter what.

There are certain moments in this book where he’ll just drop an incredible line: something that’s so beautiful I’ll think, “Oh my God, I want to write a song around that.” I think my favorite is when he says, “Luck is the way the wind swirls and the dust settles eons after God has passed by.”

Recent artist: Bill Callahan

Are you talking about Bill Callahan’s later solo stuff or Smog?

It’s mostly been Bill Callahan solo stuff for me recently. Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle, especially, and a few of his other records. I love the way that he can speak over a song. He’s the master at writing a devastating line that’s right next to something hilarious. On his latest record, which I loved, one of the songs is called “Pathol O.G.,” and it starts with the lines, “You know, I’ve been writing songs / And singing them for nigh on thirty years / I like it / I love it!” He just does stuff that I would never think to say in a song.

I’m not surprised that you like Bill Callahan, but he is sort of the polar opposite of how you go about singing and performing. He’s droll, monotone, and usually talks-sings, but you throw your voice around and imbue every line with emotion.

I think I love it so much because of that. It’s a “the grass is greener on the other side” thing, but maybe I can still pull some of that grass over to my side someday.

Recent show: ⁠Game of Thrones

By this, you mean the original series and not the new remakes, right?

The original, which I didn’t watch until this past month. My girlfriend and I are on season six now.

Holy shit, man. I watched it live and had to wait every year.

My girlfriend and I were sick a couple of weeks ago. Some stomach virus, but we were out of it, so we’d make it through eight or nine episodes a day. Before that, everybody in the band, Korgan, Bailey, and Jackson, our sound person, all loved it, so they had been hyping it all tour. We watched it, and it was so worth it. It’s so well written.

I hate being sick, but sometimes there is nothing better than being forced to do nothing. Are you a big TV person?

Not really, but my alltimer is Arrested Development. That’s the show I’ve watched and rewatched the most. If I were a comedy writer, I’d just study that series. Other than that, when I’m on tour, my band and I don’t really watch shows or movies. When we get to a hotel, if we have time, we’ll put on Deal or No Deal on YouTube—just brain-dead stuff to decompress.

The No Expectations 143 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Bobbie, “Cloud Vision”
World News, “Sidestep
Dry Cleaning, “Sliced by a Fingernail”
Lifeguard, “Appetite”
Deer Tick, “Mary Singletary”
Kevin Morby, “Die Young”
Sluice, “Torpor”
Trinity Ace, “Martyr”
Stephen Becker, “Careless”
Brown Horse, “Hares”
Zoh Amba, “Another Time”
Wendy Eisenberg, “Another Lifetime Floats Away”
Pearla, “Imagine Your Face”
Accessory, “Sunshine”
Blue Earth Sound, “Chartreuse”

Accessory, Dust

A couple of years ago, I was at Sleeping Village for the Cosmic Country Showcase, an excellent music, comedy, and variety show where local and national artists cover classic songs and play originals. That night, Jason Balla was a guest, and he sang a really lovely rendition of Arthur Russell’s “I Couldn’t Say It to Your Face.” I’ve known Balla for a decade, and I’m used to seeing him pogo across the stage and ripping clanging riffs in bands like Dehd and NE-HI, but this performance showed Balla’s softer side. Since 2018, his solo project Accessory has explored these more melancholy, midtempo lo-fi sounds, mostly through performances that could be just Balla onstage alone or with a sprawling, eight or nine-piece band dubbed Accessory XXL. Dust, Accessory’s sophomore album, is moody, hazy, and much more crisp and immersive than his earlier fare (Balla co-produced the LP with Whitney’s Ziyad Asar). “World of Pain” is warmer than its title suggests, with lush keys and mournful saxophone, while the single “Safeword” is a punchy dose of atmospheric rock music. This is a meditative and woozy record, with more than enough layers to peel back upon each successive listen.

RIYL: Arthur Russell, Cindy Lee, Hazel City

Brown Horse, Total Dive

U.K. bands have been fascinated with Americana for at least the past 60+ years. But where the Beatles and the Rolling Stones took cues from Howlin’ Wolf, Fats Domino, and Chuck Berry, Norwich’s Brown Horse finds its inspiration in the brooding and twangy guitar rock of Magnolia Electric Co., Neil Young, and Purple Mountains. Their sophomore record, All the Right Weaknesses, was a 2025 newsletter favorite, and their follow-up, Total Dive, expands their snarling countryfied rock into knottier and more expansive territory. Single “Wreck” is carried by a simmering fuzzy riff that eventually builds into a boil where guitar solos and pedal steel wails snake around each other. Elsewhere, the near-six-minute “Hares” is a masterclass in the slow build. Elegiac and powerful, it trudges along with gorgeous lines like, “I hear it and I see / That time on earth is worthwhile / And there’s nowhere else to go.” With muscular and rustic arrangements brimming with feeling, you’ll feel it too.

RIYL: Greg Freeman, Magnolia Electric Co., Gillian Welch and David Rawlings

What I watched:

Nirvanna The Band The Show The Movie (directed by Matt Johnson)

Last month, I finally got around to watching the web series and eventual Viceland show Nirvanna The Band The Show from Canadian filmmakers Matt Johnson and Jay McCarrol. It’s an uproarious comedy about two hapless Torontonians who are aspiring musicians trying to secure a gig playing the tiny downtown bar/restaurant, the Rivoli. Instead of simply calling the venue and asking, they come up with increasingly ill-advised and foolish plans to get a booking. Though the series has been off the air since 2017, they’ve returned this year with a feature film that might be the movie that’s made me laugh the most in a decade. It’s genius. There are lines, meta bits, and throwaway jokes that are so good that I can rattle off a dozen of them even after one viewing. It’s already burrowed its way into my brain forever. You’ll find it funny even if you’ve never seen the web series or show, but I’d recommend seeking those out first so you have some context before you dive into the best comedy of 2026.

What I read:

Bonsai (by Alejandro Zambra)

Around the beginning of the year, a Friend of the Newsletter texted me the link to a sprawling and inventive indie rock record by a band from Santiago, Chile. (I’ll be writing about it in a future “2025 Albums I Missed” roundup, likely publishing mid-May). It was good timing as I was then going through a major Roberto Bolaño reading phase and had just watched a spectacular three-part documentary called The Battle For Chile about the 1973 CIA-backed coup against Salvador Allende that installed dictator Augusto Pinochet. When I mentioned all this, he recommended checking out the Chilean writer Alejandro Zambra. In January, I did just that, starting with his 2006 novella Bonsai, which was translated into English in 2022. The story follows an ill-fated high school romance between Julio and Emilia, which burned brightly due to a shared love of literature. It’s no spoiler to mention that death and memory permeate the story as the opening paragraph features this line, “In the end she dies and he is alone, although really he had been alone for some years before her death.” But the way Zambra plays with the story, adds heady, meta-fictional layers to the narrative, and packs in so much metaphor and meaning in such a slim package is astounding. When I texted my friend that I finished it in a day, he replied, “Oh, that’s awesome, but I meant Zambra’s other book, The Chilean Poet.” Months later, that other one is still on the list.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 142: Wants For Everyone

Josh Terry — Thu, 16 Apr 2026 14:01:32 GMT

No Expectations 142 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Slippers, “Wants For Everyone”

Thanks for being here. On Saturday, I’m going to Arizona for a few days with my girlfriend and her family to hang out by a pool, read books, and see a few friends who live out there. The trip couldn’t have been scheduled at a better time. If there’s one thing I thought this week, it’s “Oh my god, I need a vacation.” Maybe it’s the fact that I knew I’d be going out of town, but I’m perilously close to being totally fried. I’m not quite there yet, but I am looking forward to having the most stressful decision of my day be something like, “Sonoran hot dog or frybread for lunch?” Or, better yet, “Wren House Brewing Co. or Gracie’s Tax Bar for drinks later?”

Even though I’m out of the office and won’t be bringing a laptop, there is a new and full No Expectations scheduled for next Thursday. Not only does it mark the return of the newsletter’s Taste Profile interview series, but it will also feature a new playlist, as well as LP, movie, and book recommendations. In a less busy week, I might’ve conjured up some novel, measured, and convincing take on the discourse surrounding Geese, but with a few days of relaxation on the horizon, I’m not doing that to myself (or, you, the reader). So, I’ll keep the rest of this short. See you next time.

4 Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Daffodil-11, Daffodil-11

I write a lot about a group of artists from Burlington, VT (Greg Freeman, Lily Seabird, Dari Bay, and Robber Robber), but that small city punches above its weight musically with other pockets of bands, too. Take Daffodil-11, another Vermont four-piece whose subtly groove-minded and adventurous indie pop soars on their just-released debut LP. These nine songs evoke 2010s dream-pop, early aughts adult contemporary, and more contemporary mid-tempo guitar rock with effortlessly breezy melodies and subtle electronics. The punchy “Don’t Pretend” features distorted but ebullient harmonies. There are funky, atmospheric guitars on opener “Back Pocket,” and winsome, dreamy folk on highlight “I’ve Been Alone.” They have a knack for adding real depth and playfulness to music that you’d otherwise dismiss as “too chill.” These songs are so inviting that they’ll burrow into your head faster than you’d expect. Shoutout Friend of the Newsletter and Vermonter Kevin Bloom (The Dead Shakers) for posting about them. Instagram stories are still the best way to discover music on social media.

RIYL: Wild Nothing, Counting Crows, Mild High Club

My New Band Believe, My New Band Believe

Whenever I come across an acclaimed band that I don’t love, I usually write it off as “not for me” and forget about it. With Black Midi, the disbanded English experimental rock group, their music was so interesting and audacious that I kept thinking I was an idiot for not fully connecting with it. I may try again (along with the singer Geordie Greep’s solo LP), because of the astounding inventiveness of bassist and co-vocalist Cameron Picton’s My New Band Believe. While it’s just as chock-full of ideas as his prior group, My New Band Believe contains drama, an arc, and a striking emotional resonance that make it an instant favorite of 2026. Songs flow from one to the next, and with only one album cut as a pre-release single, this LP is best experienced in a front-to-back listen. Picton, who enlists the U.K. rock collective Caroline as his studio band, uses almost entirely acoustic, organic instruments on the record, but they’re all performed with maximalist flair and feverish energy. The arrangements, both nostalgic and alien, evoke musical theater, British folk, jazz, and prog. From the sweet domesticity of a track “Love Story” to the opener “Target Practice” with its menacing “Don’t cry / you deserve this,” this album somehow both sits out of time and at the cutting edge.

RIYL: Van Dyke Parks, Destroyer, Bert & John (1966)

National Photo Committee, Red Hot Photo Committee

At the very beginning of the year, I was sent a link to an unlisted YouTube video that contained the Chicago band Red Hot Photo Committee’s debut album, Red Hot Photo Committee. Even though it was an unmastered upload, I was instantly hooked. It was raucous country-tinged bar rock fronted by a gravelly and acerbic frontman, aided by spidery pedal steel. Sure, that’s more than a well-trodden genre at this point, but these eight winding tunes are refreshingly caustic, combustible, and carefree. That early link was pulled offline within a week, but now the LP has been mastered and officially released at the beginning of the month. It’s even better than I remember. Frontman Maxwell Bottner boasts a booming baritone and a conversational delivery as he sings about daily anxieties on “It’s Hard.” Following an intro of thundering chords and crashes of drums, he sings, “It’s hard to be living / it’s hard to be alive / It’s hard times coming / and they’re coming all the time.” Bottner and his bandmates allow the songs to stretch out—only one track clocks in under four minutes. On the 11 and a half minute “Gizzard,” is an epic suite of moody verses and full-throated guitar jams, while the searing and frantic “Adelaide” kicks into an even higher gear in its final third with a blistering sax solo from local shredder Curt Oren. One listen to any tune here, and you’ll know that this Chicago group puts on a galvanizing, wild, and life-affirming live set.

RIYL: Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band, if Slanted and Enchanted-era Pavement had a pedal steel, Dusk

Spoils, Mile Wide Inch Deep

Spoils, a quartet from Cincinnati, Ohio, make indie rock that’s so anthemic and immediate it’s a shock that Mile Wide Inch Deep is only their debut album. Many of the tracks here date back five or six years ago, and the band has honed their lived-in chemistry and songwriting chops across a few EPs and countless gigs. These seven songs are so airtight, they hearken back to an era of aughts alt-rock when artists made their sound as arena-filling and massive as possible. With big riffs and bigger hooks, you’ll hear shades of the Pixies (“1000”), find melodies with a swirling intensity (closer “Dark Miller”), and get impossibly infectious choruses stuck in your head (“Brain Damage”). This is no-frills rock music: professional, but not too polished, catchy, but not sugary. I kept checking to make sure they weren’t secretly signed to some big label, but this is just a talented Midwestern band doing the damn thing better than most.

RIYL: Momma, Indigo De Souza, Slow Pulp

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 142 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Spoils, “Brain Damage”
youbet, “Undefined”
Slippers, “Wants For Everyone”
proun, “Miracles”
Daffodil-11, “I’ve Been Alone”
Mei Semones, “Kurage” (ft. Don Semones)
My New Band Believe, “In the Blink of an Eye”
Nara’s Room, “Lizzie mcguire”
beaming, “Stuck (here)”
Crazier, “Bye Bye”
Ben Auld, “From Now On”
TV Star, “Out Of My Bag”
National Photo Committee, “It’s Hard”
Brown Horse, “Total Dive”
Tasha, “Summer”

Gig recap: Lily Seabird, Minor Moon at Hideout (4/11)

Just two months ago, Lily Seabird played a show in Chicago at Schubas, opening for Dean Johnson with a set entirely composed of brand new songs from a still-unannounced record. (A month ago, she dropped the sprawling and cathartic rocker “Demon In Me,” which gives a solid hint at her new direction with this material). Where that February gig was Seabird entirely solo, this headliner at the Hideout featured a full and new four-piece band for the Burlington, VT, songwriter. To round out her quartet, she brought former Dari Bay drummer Daniel Snyder, Mikaela Davis and Southern Star bassist Shane McCarthy, as well as the Wormdogs’ guitarist Rick Soszynski. Throughout, Seabird played searing lead guitar, leading her band into sinuous, pummeling jams that brought a newfound edge to her already impeccable live set. I’ve seen Seabird countless times and in so many different iterations, but this is the hardest I’ve ever seen her rock and the best I’ve ever seen her. Get ready for Lily’s shredder era.

Friends of the Newsletter Minor Moon kicked off the night to celebrate the release of their excellent new live LP, Live at Thawed Out. During their set, Lily turned to me and said, “This is my favorite Chicago band,” and it’s hard to argue with that. If you’re ever lucky enough to see them live, buy a ticket: you will be floored.

What I watched:

My Undesirable Friends: Part I - Last Air in Moscow (directed by Julia Lotkev)

In 2021, two young Russian journalists were designated by their government as “foreign agents” due to their reporting that documented the Putin regime’s abuses, failures, and pervasive corruption. This meant that if they didn’t routinely fill out arduous paperwork, disclose their status with every social media post, article, television appearance, and public statement with a mandatory disclaimer, they could lose their careers, face fines, and endure strict prison sentences. Instead of wallowing in despair, these two reporters started a defiant and funny podcast called “Hi, You’re a Foreign Agent.” The New York Times covered their story in 2021, which led director Julia Lotkev, a Russian-American filmmaker behind tense narrative films like The Loneliest Planet and Day Night Day Night, to travel to Moscow and document their daily lives with an iPhone. The five-and-a-half-hour documentary My Undesirable Friends: Part I - Last Air in Moscow follows several journalists designated as “foreign agents” in the lead-up to the Russian-Ukrainian war of 2022. In addition to the two women who started a podcast, Loktev immerses herself in the lives of other subjects who are TV and print journalists. By the end of the first part of this documentary, all of them are forced to flee the country due to the political repression and draconian laws of their government. It’s a towering achievement of political filmmaking that highlights the bravery of these journalists and the importance of opposition and alternative media. But it’s also a human portrait of how, even across the world and facing horrific situations, people are more alike than they are different. Sure, these journalists are brave and commendable, but they’re also normal people who laugh with their friends, love Harry Potter, and are doing their best despite impossible circumstances. Harrowing and urgent, there’s a line that’ll stick with me for a long time: “In Nazi Germany, people also sat and waited and hoped things would be OK.” It’s worth getting a MUBI subscription for this film alone.

What I read:

Orbital (by Samantha Harvey)

Since 2000, people have been living in space. The International Space Station launched as a gesture of global goodwill: a joint venture between the United States, Russia, and several other countries. They’ve been running experiments, charting the human body’s resilience out of the Earth’s atmosphere, and conducting enough research to eventually launch deep space missions. It’s going to be decommissioned in 2030 and deorbited in 2031, which is another symbolic grace note to the recent collapse of the post-Cold War liberal order. Samantha Harvey’s Booker Prize-winning novel Orbital takes place on the ISS, but it’s more of a meditative nature novel than a plot-driven sci-fi. (As with my taste in movies, I do not care in the slightest if there’s propulsive action in fiction: give me a beautiful sentence, insight into the human condition, something to think about long after I’ve put this thing down, etc!) It spans one full 24-hour day on the orbiting structure, which amounts to roughly 16 full rotations around the Earth. She homes in on the interior lives of the six astronauts and cosmonauts as they rotate around the globe, do their daily tasks, and ponder the world they’ve departed. It’s a deliberately patient read: there aren’t aliens, massive technical dysfunctions, or interpersonal drama between the crew. Instead, Harvey brings philosophical revelations, perceptive musings, and graceful prose to what only a few hundred people in history have experienced. While I wouldn’t have picked this up without the Artemis II NASA mission being in the news, I’m glad I did, and I’m glad they made it home safe.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 141: We're Gonna Be Okay

Josh Terry — Thu, 09 Apr 2026 14:02:38 GMT

No Expectations 141 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Dari Bay, “We’re Gonna Be Okay”

Thanks for being here. Last Wednesday, I got out of work to bring my 11-year-old cousin, along with his grandparents, to his first-ever Major League Baseball game at Wrigley Field. They all flew in from Virginia for it. While it was a bit frosty with temps in the high thirties, at least it didn’t rain. Plus, the Cubs won, and everyone had a blast. No matter the weather, it’s nearly impossible to have a bad time at a ballgame.

I hadn’t seen my cousin since he was maybe six years old. He’s always been a sweet kid, but hanging with him all day last week was so awesome. He’s much cooler than I was at that age. He loves baseball and plays as a power-hitting first baseman who, amazingly, is already 5’6. He’s a great listener (which is rare for Terrys: we’re notorious for talking over each other), can solve a Rubik’s Cube in 90 seconds, and even chose AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” as his walk-up song. You could tell he was overjoyed to see the Cubs in person, to figure out his favorite player, and to take in the sounds and sights of the stadium.

Sure, there are a lot of things happening in the world that warrant being stressed out about. There’s no need to list it all out here. But it’s good to cling to and savor the things that give you hope. I’ve probably been to maybe a hundred Major League Baseball games, but seeing it through my cousin’s eyes made it feel like it was the first time, too. Sharing what you love and witnessing it resonate with someone else is really what it’s all about. Shoutout his grandpa (my uncle) for the tickets and the excuse to use some PTO.

Another needed dose of optimism came on Sunday. That night, I attended a stacked, seven-act bill at the Empty Bottle commemorating the release of Red Xerox: Chicago Youth Beat 2020-2025. It’s a compilation documenting a generation of local indie rock bands making absolutely vital music. While I’ve covered a handful of these artists before in the newsletter (Free Range, Friko, etc), several were new to me. This is a music community started by folks who are mostly 10-15 years younger than I am, and it’s far more exciting than the local scenes I was immersing myself in at that age. (I don’t know why, but everything was garage rock here in 2010). Watching the eclectic and unmistakable talent on display at this showcase was really inspiring. It made me even more grateful to live in a city that can nurture, develop, and support so much independent music.

4 Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Abbey Blackwell, Dream a Day

Abbey Blackwell is a Seattle-based artist who, over the past few years, has worked as a touring bassist for bands like La Luz and Alvvays. (If you caught any of the Blue Rev tour, you saw Blackwell play.) Her solo work is more understated, but it soars with overwhelming grace and catharsis. Her latest LP, the Bandcamp-only Dream a Day, is the best album of 2026 that you can’t find on streaming services. Blackwell’s voice—rich, lush, and full of character—anchors these songs of verdant, organic folk. “Rise and Set” is sparse but intentional, quietly building with pops of lap steel, dreamlike guitars, and drums. As a bandleader, Blackwell knows when to swell and when to pull back. Take “The Voice,” which finds her singing, “Looking over my shoulder at the view / Feeling older as the days go tripping through.” It starts off like a Labi Siffre song, but as the band subtly comes into the mix, it becomes something grander. Few of Blackwell’s peers can get the small details right as well as she can, which makes for a jaw-dropping record of revelatory little moments.

RIYL: Norma Tanega, Vashti Bunyan, Andy Shauf

Hiding Places, The Secret To Good Living

Hiding Places is a Brooklyn band that originally formed in North Carolina as that state’s bountiful music community was on the ascent. Unlike their home state peers, they eschew the intersection of twang and shoegaze for something totally their own. On their debut record, The Secret To Good Living, which was released via the great Texas label Keeled Scales, they combine brutal, pounding riffs with dual lead vocals and patiently pastoral arrangements. Led by songwriters Audrey Keelin and Nicholas Byrne, the two trade off singing duties throughout the 10 expansive tracks here. On “One Hand,” Keelin’s dynamic voice operates somewhere between foreboding and pained over a simmering, tense composition, while on “Holy Roller,” they commandingly sing, “I’m a holy roller / I move too much / If the floor is burning. I climb up.” The true magic of Hiding Places is how they’re able to stretch out a song and luxuriate in feeling, like on the whispery, slow-burning title track. This is a record for quiet emotion and massive guitars.

RIYL: Yo La Tengo, Horse Jumper of Love, Slow Pulp

John Andrews & the Yawns, STREETSWEEPER

Despite their name, the New York-based John Andrews & the Yawns don’t make sleepy music. Sure, you could call it mellow, cozy, or even dreamy, but there’s enough unassailable craft in these finely-written songs to keep you enthralled throughout the nine tracks on their fifth LP, STREETSWEEPER. The album gets its title from Andrews’ part-time job with the New York City Parks Department, and with its hockey imagery on the cover and in its accompanying music videos, it’s easy to imagine skating to these easygoing songs. Andrew’s voice is amiable and inviting. Even if he’s singing sad songs, you can picture a sly smile on his face just from his delivery. “The Last Word,” the jauntiest rocker on the record, picks up the pace with Andrews singing, “don’t always have to get the last word in / over and over and over / again and again and again / oh no.” Elsewhere, songs like “What’s Good?” take on the quality of a twinkling lullaby with Andrews cooing lines like “Make it up as I go” over woozy arpeggios. While Andrews gets assists here from members of Cut Worms, Luke Temple, and Star Moles, it’s his conversational charm that carries this quietly staggering album.

RIYL: Loving, Major Murphy, Liam Kazar, that “Old Time Hawkey” social media account that pops up on my feed because I follow the Detroit Red Wings

Robber Robber, Two Wheels Move the Soul

Robber Robber, alongside their Vermont compatriots Greg Freeman and Lily Seabird, might be the band I’ve written about most in this newsletter. Its drummer, Zack James (Dari Bay), even made No Expectations’ logo and designed the weekly cover images. They are all now dear buds, but even if they weren’t, I would be fully in the tank for this quartet’s explosive and innovative brand of post-punk. Opener “The Sound It Made” instantly bursts with a shrieking riff, skittering breakbeats, sinister bass bombs, and bandleader Nina Cates intoning, “Nice ice block, runs hot, give a little, take a lot / Lean a little closer for a moment, moment, stop.” It’s a record that excels on the collision between the volatile unpredictability of its rhythm section and Cates’ sticky, earworm hooks. Single “Talkback” takes Meet Me in the Bathroom-era alt-rock swagger to 2026, while the chiming percussion of “Avalanche Sound Effect” is genuinely hypnotizing. For a band with such a unique and distinctive sound in a crowded genre, Two Wheels Move the Soul is a remarkably diverse record. “Imprint” is wistful slowcore, “Watch For Infection” is icy and nervy punk, and “New Year’s Eve” is bouncy, funky, and more than a little poppy. Yes, I might be biased, but this is the best indie rock record of 2026 so far.

RIYL: The magical music community of Burlington, Vermont, the future of indie rock, Fire Talk Records

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 141 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Dari Bay, “We’re Gonna Be Okay”
Robber Robber, “Avalanche Sound Effect”
This House is Creaking, “There’s a Stench in the Air”
Spoils, “Red Roof”
Friko, “Still Around”
Cass McCombs, “Seeing The Elephant”
Baby Cool, “Everything”
John Andrews & the Yawns, “The Last Word”
Hiding Places, “The Secret To Good Living”
Hand Habits, “Good Person”
Greg Mendez, “Gentle Love”
Thomas Dollbaum, “Coyote”
Trinity Ace, “Algae Bloom”
Gia Margaret, “Alive Inside”
Sean Thompson’s Weird Ears, “Whitethorn Rose”

Gig recap: Red Xerox Release Show: Niko Kapetan, Free Range, P.Noid, Uniflora, Current Union TM, Kitship and TV Buddha at Empty Bottle (4/5)

I started writing at 20 when I was an intern for the A.V. Club in 2012, and throughout my twenties, I developed a beat covering rising Chicago artists. With thriving scenes here in indie rock and hip-hop, the whole decade felt totally alive and full of endless possibilities. There was really no better time and no better place to be a 23-year-old whose job was to cover local music. I had the energy to go to shows five times a week, I got to know a lot of the bands, and I witnessed so much stellar live music and heard endless amazing records. It really felt like a community: an inviting and exciting era for supporting hometown independent talent. Covering it all for years was probably the most fun I’ve ever had—apart from this newsletter.

As venues opened their doors again following vaccines and mask mandates, I realized there was a new crop of bands I had no idea about. They seemingly came out of nowhere, got signed to great labels, were releasing impossibly cool and interesting music, and were several years younger than me. These weren’t acts that I was ground floor covering: it was a new thing, totally separate from the communities I spent my twenties documenting. It honestly rules, and this development has me more excited about the future of Chicago music than I’ve ever been. This is how it’s supposed to go: the music you grew up with will soon be eclipsed by younger people doing it better.

Red Xerox, a vinyl release compiled by musician, zinemaker, and connector Eli Schmitt, charts this burgeoning and vital scene across 12 tracks, with each by a different band. To celebrate the LP, seven of the acts featured took the Empty Bottle stage on Easter Sunday. Newsletter favorites Niko Kapetan (of the band Friko) and Free Range kicked things off with spectacular solo sets. Kapetan’s voice, even with just a keyboard and acoustic, is just as powerful and urgent as ever. The same goes for Free Range’s Sofia Jensen. Next up was the P. Noid, a new-to-me but excellent two-piece punk band.

The following three acts blew me away. Uniflora, the youngest group of the bunch (they’re high school seniors), played a ripping set of kinetic, groove-based indie rock. They’re just a trio but boast a massive sound with careening riffs, a pummeling rhythm section, and punky harmonies. Following them was Current Union TM, a band that evolved from an excellent sibling duo called Twin Coast. Their set featured cavernous, dense jams, skronking saxophone, ample cowbell, and jolting energy that evoked Sonic Youth at its most funky and psychedelic. It was indie rock at its most primal and undeniable. Though I’m at risk of overselling it, they sounded like the future. The last act I caught was Newsletter favorite Kitship, who led a six-piece band to play songs off their latest LP, am i a rock? It left me stunned and charmed.

Chicago’s great for its (relatively) cheap rent, its multitude of independent venues, its resilient ecosystem of zines and DIY press covering this music, and its ever-evolving and ever-inspiring collection of young artists. This is the first generation of bands to have grown up with access to all recorded music via streaming and the internet. It’s incredible to see what they’ve already done, and it’s so exciting to imagine what the next one will do.

* Listen, it was Easter Sunday, and I had work in the morning. I left a little after 11 p.m., before headliner TV Buddha performed (a band I love and have seen before).

What I watched:

Caught by the Tides (directed by Jia Zhangke)

I recently read a 2025 piece in the New York Review of Books about the Chinese director Jia Zhangke, who’s spent the last three decades depicting his country’s many transitions with gorgeous feature films that use non-actors, documentary techniques, and unorthodox approaches. His latest film, Caught By the Tides, which was released in the States in 2025, was shot over twenty years. He used material he had shot for previous films, rearranged the footage to form a coherent story, and filmed new scenes to round it out. Imagine a much more out-of-the-box and impressionistic Boyhood. Jia captures Chinese history as it unfolds: its 2001 winning bid for the Olympics, how rising water levels from the Three Gorges Dam displaced residents in 2006, and the COVID-19 pandemic. Due to the piecemeal, improvised nature of its assemblage, the plot can feel a little light, but taking in these stunning visuals and evocative cinematography is just as rewarding as an air-tight narrative.

What I read:

The Man in the High Castle (by Philip K. Dick)

Philip K. Dick is the Chicago-born science fiction author whose novels and short stories have been adapted into films like Blade Runner, Total Recall, Minority Report, A Scanner Darkly, and more. I’ve seen all these movies and love them, but I’ve never dedicated time to make it through his oeuvre. To remedy this, I started with Dick’s 1962 novel The Man in the High Castle, a heady alternate history where President Roosevelt is assassinated in 1933, the Axis powers win World War II, and America is divided up into three sections: the West ruled by Imperial Japanese forces, a neutral zone in the Rockies, and the East run by Nazis. (I vaguely remember liking the Amazon Prime Video series adaptation and Rufus Sewell’s acting in particular, but I don’t recall it being four seasons). Compared to the sprawling TV show, Dick’s novel is more self-contained. Despite provocative world-building and political intrigue, the book is much better at fleshing out the interior lives of its characters. Despite multiple detours about the I Ching and antiques, Dick’s electric prose and the book’s wild head-spinning ending make me want to devour his entire bibliography.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 140: Swimming

Josh Terry — Thu, 02 Apr 2026 14:00:28 GMT

No Expectations 140 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Villagerrr, “Swimming”

Thanks for being here. I promise I didn’t set out to do this, but last week I read enough articles, newsletter essays, and social media posts about journalists using AI in the writing process to last me a lifetime. First was a Substack entry from a screenwriter that popped up on my feed titled “Everyone Is Lying” (about not using AI), then came the WIRED piece “Meet the Tech Reporters Using AI to Help Write and Edit Their Stories,” and finally a Wall Street Journal profile headlined “An AI Upheaval Is Coming for Media. This Journalist Is Already All In.” On sites like Twitter, established writers, such as a well-known libertarian Washington Post columnist, chimed in and admitted to using LLMs to do “grunt work,” like fact-checking, conducting research, and “sharpen[ing] podcast interview questions.” (For what it’s worth, some of these applications appear to violate her employer’s own ethics policy).

Each of these pieces gave me a slightly nauseous feeling, equivalent to having five cups of coffee, realizing it’s 2 p.m. and I’ve forgotten to have lunch. For instance, this tech writer with a newsletter uses a voice-to-text service and “transmits his ideas to an AI agent, then lets it write his first draft.” He’s quoted in WIRED saying, “I feel like I’m cheating in a way that feels amazing,” he says. “I never did this because I liked being a writer. I like reporting, learning new things, having an edge, and telling people things that will make them feel smart six months from now.” Oh, brother.

In the Wall Street Journal, a staffer for Fortune, which is a site I’ve freelanced for, says he “uploads press releases or analyst notes into AI tools and prompts them to spit out articles that he can edit and publish quickly.” He’s quoted here: “I know that this won’t be seen as some people’s idea of journalism, but I’ve always seen myself as kind of a nobody from nowhere who scrapped and clawed to get into this industry and find solutions to problems.” Sure, he’s compiled over 600 bylines since July with AI’s help and apparently accounts for a sizable number of Fortune’s traffic, but does delegating the actual task of writing, thinking, and editing to a chatbot really amount to “scraping and clawing” in this line of work?

I’m not bringing this up to talk shit (OK, maybe a little) but to ask where the reader factors in these marquee journalists’ “productivity hacks.” If you’re like me, you click on an article to learn something, gain a fresh perspective, or understand a complicated issue in a new way. As someone who’s chosen to make writing a career, I want to give whoever’s reading those very things and would like to assume my peers feel the same. Yes, writing is a lot of work, thinking of something to publish every week is hard, and organizing your thoughts into something coherent is often a chore. Boo hoo! If you really want to do it, the arduous process, the necessary edits, and the constant re-evaluations of your work are the point. There are other careers where you can flex different muscles if not.

No Expectations is a small but growing blog because, for better and worse, it’s the direct reflection of one 34-year-old writer in Chicago’s opinions, tastes, neuroses, and decade-plus worth of experience as a culture critic and journalist. While there are obviously more polished prose stylists and better-funded websites out there, this newsletter maintains a readership because it has a distinct point of view. I highlight artists that most other outlets aren’t covering because I’m interested in off-the-beaten-path, hyper-local music. After all, I started this project because I felt that the songs being fed to me by algorithmic streaming services were homogenous and, frankly, pretty shitty. I’d ruin what makes this thing work if I decided to entrust the fun part (the research, the listening, the writing, the brainstorming) to some AI agent, which is worth reminding, cannot review a record or experience art the way a human would.

Sure, there are acceptable, albeit ultra-specific, uses of this technology in the journalistic process. My investigative reporter friends use it to analyze massive datasets they obtained via Freedom of Information Act requests, and most interview transcription services are AI-based (still, you gotta painstakingly double check and edit: the number of times I’ve seen “indie rock” transcribed as “in Iraq” is too many to count). But, speaking personally here, outsourcing my outlook, my finicky musical preferences, and my work to a machine would feel like a death. If you’re a writer looking to save time, cutting corners enough will eventually not just force you to ask, “What am I even doing here?” but your readers, too.

Here’s where I politely ask for money: This newsletter is something I write in my spare time after work. It does not have a paywall and won’t for the foreseeable future due to the generosity of my readers. I am not in the business of gatekeeping. If you have the means and like what you read, I’d encourage you to sign up for a paid subscription. If your budget is tight, telling a friend about a band you found out about here is just as good. You can also post about No Expectations on social media and say nice things. That works too. It’s still $5 a month—the cost of one Old Style plus tip at Rainbo Club. Every bit helps, keeps this project going, and allows it to stay paywall-free. It’s rough out there, so it means the world you’re reading and supporting this writing project.

4 Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Charlotte Cornfield, Hurts Like Hell

Canadian folk artist Charlotte Cornfield’s songs have long had an “in the room” feel to them: not just from the organic, live-sounding recordings but from the way her lyrics are so perceptive and piercing that they feel like she’s letting you in on a secret. Hurts Like Hell, her sixth LP, is her most confident and lived-in release yet: likely thanks to this being Cornfield’s first full-length since becoming a mother in 2023. There are slice-of-life observations throughout, a sample line on the stunning “Long Game” goes thusly, “We were all listening to Neil Young / You said your favourite record was Zuma / I always took you and your sense of humour / To end with your hand in mine.” Her voice, expressive, straining, and dancing over the melody in unexpected ways is the album’s strongest asset. She harmonizes with Feist on single “Living With It,” snarls on the rocker “Lucky,” and imbues lines like “I never reach out and you never call / Another season in the city, another reason for it to pour” on “Number” with striking emotion. Few records this year feel as effortlessly inviting.

RIYL: Feist, Neil Young, artists whose government name could be a made-up stage moniker but isn’t

Sluice, Companion

Sluice’s 2023 LP Radial Gate was a masterful and conversational folk-rock record that felt like drinking a beer while floating on a river with your friends. Frontman Justin Morris still excels at quiet and profound revelations on the follow-up Companion, whether it’s from watching The Wire for the first time (“Beadie”) or going on tour to sell merch for Angel Olsen (“Vegas”). This is a sophomore record that surpasses the quality of the debut, while being weirder and more interior. Songs dissolve into several seconds of ambient room noise, a whole track is field recorded water, and there’s even a nine-minute vocoder-assisted tune that’s a one-sided conversation with god. It’s all intentional and compelling, even at its most out there. Still, there are breezy and resonant moments galore, like the pastoral single “Zillow” and the ripping closer “Vegas,” which references Wilco’s “Kamera,” getting on Pitchfork, and Led Zeppelin’s “Moby Dick.” For all the pop culture references, the real theme is a reverence for the weird, tiny, and daily miracles of being alive.

RIYL: Bill Callahan, “Joe Pera Talks With You,” going on tour and selling merch for your friends’ band

Shep Treasure, Blanket

Sabrina Nichols makes hazy, immersive, and meditative folk rock as Shep Treasure. In February, the Rochester, New York native (who’s also a frequent collaborator of Joyer) released Blanket, an LP that matches each second of gorgeousness with something eerie, wonky, and slightly askew. It’s a genuinely thrilling and sometimes haunting combination, especially on the near-eight-minute “Omnipotent,” and hypnotizing, droning opener “Dove.” Where much of the album settles into an enveloping and patient midtempo zone, Nichols thrives when there’s an uptick of pace. “Fired and Expelled” takes guitar fuzz and Stereolab-evoking synth to peaks of moody bliss, while “Orchard Beach City Island” and “Cold Air” boast air-tight hooks, searing riffs, and alt-rock swagger. This one might take a minute to fully unfold for you, but it’s well-worth untangling the knots.

RIYL: Horse Jumper of Love, Blonde Redhead, Fiona Apple

Stuck, Optimizer

With releases titled Change Is Bad, Content To Make You Feel Good, and Freak Frequency, Chicago band Stuck have long transformed anxieties surrounding the tech-aided degradation of daily life into caustic and abrasive punk music. Their latest, Optimizer, manages to be their most lucid and compelling take on this rich subject, as well as their most undeniable, adventurous, and melodic collection of songs. Frontman Greg Obis targets “one quick trick” manosphere influencers on the scorching “Instakill,” where he yelps in a spitfire verse, “Cutting sugar, exercising / reading, writing, organizing / mindful habits, minimizing / judgy thoughts and criticizing” and intones, “you can change your life / for a limited time.” His writing tends to focus on people trying to do good, but are trapped under the weight of impossible goals or captivated by nefarious actors. On the clanging “Deadlift,” he sings, “I never feel so alone / when the weight hits the floor.” It’s consistently galvanizing and anthemic, with ample post-punk iciness and the occasional nervy detour into DEVO-esque freneticism. Obis is a Friend of the Newsletter who I’ve known since he’s been in bands like Clearance and Yeesh, and he also runs Chicago Mastering Service and has mastered countless releases by No Expectations favorites like MJ Lenderman, Deeper, Ducks Ltd. and Moontype. His contributions to independent music in this city alone are incalculable but this, alongside his bandmates David Algrim and Tim Green, is his best work yet.

RIYL: Meat Wave, Protomartyr, Deeper, Squid

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 140 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

Lifeguard, “Ultra Violence”
Stuck, “Net Negative”
Robber Robber, “New Year’s Eve”
Gladie, “Lucky For Another”
Sluice, “Vegas”
Charlotte Cornfield, “Lucky”
villagerrr, “Swimming”
Shep Treasure, “Fired and Expelled”
Johanna Samuels, “White Limousine”
Gr8 Dogs, “The Gates of New Jersey”
Stephen Becker, “Bad Idea”
Ben Auld, “Red Bandana”
Gawshock, “What Do You Dream About?”
Squirrel Flower, “Wheels” (feat. Babehoven & Billie Marten)
Fcukers, “Feel The Real”

What I watched:

Nirvanna the Band the Show (Season 1, purchased via Prime Video)

I am at least 10 years late on this (almost 20 if you count the webseries), but I’m finally crossing off Nirvanna the Band the Show from my list. I have no real excuse for this delay (I literally worked for VICE as this TV adaptation of the original webseries was airing on VICELAND) except for the fact that I didn’t think I’d love it as much as I do. With Nirvanna: the Band the Show the Movie hitting theaters and now streaming, I decided to finally give the television series a shot (it is a little funny to treat a show so silly and absurdist like homework, as if I wouldn’t get the gist from the film had I not understood the lore). It follows two, oafish, earnest, and outrageous Toronto friends in their late-twenties and early-thirties who desperately want to play a show at the Rivoli, a small restaurant and bar with a venue in the back. (For a Chicago equivalent, this is basically the Beat Kitchen). They don’t really practice or have actual songs, but they devise increasingly elaborate and ill-advised schemes to get a booking there. While I love Matt Johnson’s film work (Blackberry, The Dirties), it’s great to see such a ramshackle and hilarious series from him. I’m stoked to tackle the movie next.

What I read:

The Man with the Golden Arm (by Nelson Algren)

Few writers are as synonymous with Chicago as Nelson Algren, who, while born in Michigan, was raised on the South Side of the city by Swedish and German-Jewish immigrant parents. In college, I read his influential and spectacular prose-poem Chicago: City on the Make and revisited it in 2023, but until now, I never got around to his most well-known novel The Man with the Golden Arm, which won the first-ever National Book Award in 1950. (For years, I assumed it was about boxing). It follows a down-on-his-luck card dealer and World War II vet who’s addicted to morphine as he lives and drinks on the northwest side. It all took place blocks from where I live now, and I’ve read that the fictional Tug & Maul Bar that serves as a setting was inspired by my regular dive, Rainbo Club. Algren’s a hell of a stylist and deeply attuned to the suffering, occasionally hopeless aspirations, and unquestionable resilience of underdogs. It’s a gutting, human, and brutal read that’ll stick with me for a long time.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 139: Pearls

Josh Terry — Thu, 26 Mar 2026 14:03:15 GMT

No Expectations 139 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Styrofoam Winos, “Pearls”

Thanks for being here. If you’ve visited me in any apartment I’ve lived in over the last 15 years, you’ve probably noticed a few magazines lying on a coffee table or piled up in a crate under a desk. I grew up as a loyal subscriber to Spin, Paste, Alternative Press, and Guitar World (which introduced me to some terrible nu-metal bands in the early 2000s), and I’ve nurtured my love for the medium in adulthood. Where the first thing I used to do waking up was aimlessly scroll on my phone and gradually piss myself off, now I make my way through a magazine article. It’s a healthier ritual that’s honestly become one of the best parts of my day.

When so much of my life is dictated by algorithms or my own internet habits, it’s a simple joy to pick up something physical that was written, organized, and designed by people. There are no personalized feeds and nothing to click, just a collection of curated stories and images with a beginning and an end. With a monthly or quarterly publication schedule, these outlets have little incentive to focus on ephemeral clickbait. Instead, they commission mostly evergreen, in-depth pieces where you learn something more than you would from skimming a news story on your phone. It’s also a way to train your attention. There are no pop-up notifications with a physical product, and the more you read, the more you feel totally focused and present.

Sure, there have been years where weekly New Yorker deliveries have led to clutter at the spot (I have since switched to the iPad edition: the Apple News app allows me to also keep tabs on Bloomberg Businessweek, The New Republic, Billboard, and Rolling Stone). Still, there’s something comforting about being surrounded by physical media. It’s always there to pick up when you’re feeling overly stimulated and need to unwind. Right now, you’ll find scattered around my place two different magazines on tennis (Racquet and Open), a soccer outlet (Mundial), issues of the political journal the Baffler, as well as vital new music publications like Antics and So Young. In fact, one of the artists featured in the album roundup below came directly from So Young.

4 Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Ellie O’Neill, Time of Fallow

Before Ireland’s Ellie O’Neill was a recording artist, she was a rising youth Gaelic football player. While she later pursued a music degree at university, switching her academic focus to literature ignited her passion for songwriting. Time of Fallow, O’Neill’s debut, is immersive and transportive folk music. Throughout the tracklist, her calming and rich alto is a perfect vessel for these bracingly personal lyrics. Where much of the LP is an exercise in tasteful and austere minimalism, the more ornate compositions soar like on “Little Sister,” a serpentine and knotty dose of pastoral rock. Single “Anna with the Silver Arrow” showcases her ability to give nearly biblical stakes to a queer love story, while coos of falsetto harmonies give tracks like “Aconite” tangible grace and propulsion. Like her fellow countryman Dove Ellis, O’Neill has a talent that’s undeniable and often overwhelming.

RIYL: Irish music that isn’t a post-punk band, Hannah Frances, Haley Heynderickx

i26connector, i26connector

Even if you think we’re at “peak indie rock bands with a pedal steel player,” let alone “peak indie rock bands with a pedal steel player from Asheville, North Carolina,” I’m here to tell you that i26connector are more than worth your time. Their self-titled full-length is one of my favorite debuts of 2026, an all-around airtight and efficient collection of conversational lyrics, booming riffs, and wailing twang. Composed of members of other Western NC bands like Tombstone Poetry, Idle County, Headringer, and Seven and a Half Giraffe, the seven songs on i26connector manage to be genuinely fresh and exciting entries in a crowded genre. Where the first couple of minutes of opener “Spirit Manger” seem like effective and explosive indie-twang, it quickly dissolves into searing punk for its final 40 seconds. On “i26connector,” Caelan Burris sings, “They tore down my buddy’s house / To build the I-26 Connector / And I don't think they gave him much money / Or time to make arrangements,” which is a hell of a way to kick off a song. The tone on this record can oscillate between barroom chats and apocalyptic brooding, but no matter what, it’s always thrilling thanks to Burris’ clear-eyed lyrics and pedal steel player Will Elliott’s silky leads. Shoutout to the essential North Carolina blog New Commute for the initial rec.

RIYL: Actually good pedal steel playing, Greg Freeman, Magnolia Electric Co., songs titled after the band name

kitship, am i a rock?

In 2023, Minneapolis songwriter Amaya Peña moved to Chicago and quickly found a home in the city’s music community. Where their solo material veers on understated guitar-based folk, they’ve joined the indie rock group Starcharm (fka Soft & Dumb) on drums and have collaborated with acts like Memory Card, Sharp Pins, and TV Buddha. They also appear on the just-released RED XEROX compilation that documents the best of the Chicago youth DIY movement from 2020-2025. Earlier this month, Peña dropped am i a rock?, an eight-song LP of effortlessly compelling acoustic singer-songwriter and lowkey indie rock fare. Peña’s voice is soothing and commanding, but it’s the way they can write a melody so immediately memorable that carries the release. From the frantic tempo changes and primitive flute in opener “song for avi,” to the childhood nostalgia that imbues the earworm twee of “i wish to be like you” with charm, this is a record full of subtle, stellar moments. Recorded with Sharp Pins and Lifeguard’s Kai Slater (who appears in a duet on “i’ve got a secret”), it’s lo-fi but not decidedly retro, choosing to instead center a truly imaginative and welcome voice in the burgeoning and vibrant scene.

RIYL: Norma Tanega, Horsegirl, Frankie Cosmos

Red PK, Horse Like Me

Andy PK, aka Chicago’s Red PK, has been one of the city’s most prolific collaborators over the past few years. I’ve recently seen them play in the live bands of Squirrel Flower, Free Range, hemlock, and Tobacco City on either pedal steel or guitar, and checking Instagram this past week, I see that they’re now also a touring member of Ratboys. Ever since I caught them play an acoustic show at Color Club in 2023, I’ve realized that they’re a formidable solo artist too, and their excellent debut LP Horse Like Me is proof. Recorded with Chicago’s Seth Engel (Options), there’s an early-afternoon pep to these songs. Even in the most introspective and vulnerable numbers, PK and their band add needed grooves, bursts of riff-induced energy, and well-worn chemistry into each arrangement. The sub-two-minute “Red” makes every second count with crunchy chords and woozy falsetto, while opener “Get Down” is basically a perfect-no-notes version of emo-tinged countrified rock. These songs are so inviting and the instrumental flourishes so gorgeous that it’s a strikingly cozy and comforting record. Any casual observer of the local music community here knows PK’s an astoundingly tasteful shredder, whether on guitar or pedal steel, but Horse Like Me shows that they’re just as deft as a writer.

RIYL: That first Pinegrove record, the Chicago music community, and, again, actually good pedal steel playing

The No Expectations 139 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify* // Tidal

Styrofoam Winos, “Pearls”
Brennan Wedl, “Six O’Clock News (feat. Waxahatchee)”
i26connector, “I-26 Connector”
Red PK, “Red”
oldstar, “Whiskey”
memory card, “Hurricane”
Keta Ester, “Singer of the Rock Song”
The Clearwater Swimmers, “Radio Flyer”
Jacob Ungerleider, “Everything You Can”
Accessory, “This Is Not Your Life (Static)”
Tenderness, “We’ll Always Have Paris 1919”
Ellie O’Neill, “Little Sister”
nat tracks, “Lost Signals”
Gelli Haha, “Klouds Will Carry Me To Sleep”
Brad Goodall, “River Water”

* = “Radio Flyer” by the Clearwater Swimmers and “Hurricane” by Memory Card are not on Spotify

What I watched:

Jury Duty Presents: Company Retreat (Prime Video)

The main conceit behind Jury Duty is, “What would happen if an average person were put in the middle of a scripted sitcom and didn’t know they were in one?” Part Candid Camera, part Truman Show, and part The Office, the first season thrived thanks to the amiable, go-with-the-flow, and kind nature of its real-life normal guy subject, Ronald Gladden. His obvious goodness allowed the cast to shine, and the season is one of my favorite pieces of TV comedy this decade. This season leaves the courtroom for a company on its annual retreat. They enlist a Nashville temp worker (an equally likable and friendly Anthony Norman) to work at a (fictional) California hot sauce business called Rockin’ Grandma’s Hot Sauce. Norman is told that a documentary crew is following the corporation as their longtime owner is retiring and giving the business to his son, a clearly Chet Hanks-inspired man named Dougie (Alex Bonifer). It’s amazing that they managed to pull it off again, that they found a subject equally perfect to be the unwitting main character, and that the jokes in Season 2 are just as solid as that miracle of a debut season.

What I read:

Panic at the Pump: The Energy Crisis and the Transformation of American Politics in the 1970s (by Meg Jacobs)

I tend to read in cycles. I’ll first go for a fun nonfiction book: usually something related to sports or music. Next, I’ll do a not-so-fun nonfiction book. Whether it’s history, political theory, or reported journalism, it’s usually about How We Got Here in 2026. Finally, I’ll switch it up with a novel, which can be fun or not-really-all-that-fun depending on the topic. While I enjoyed reading it and learned a lot, Panic at the Pump: The Energy Crisis and the Transformation of American Politics in the 1970s, from Princeton historian Meg Jacobs, falls in the second camp. It’s an exhaustive and often frustrating account of the twin oil shocks of that decade, the crises of 1973 during Nixon’s administration and 1979 during Carter’s. I picked this book up because, well, you know… Jacobs gets deep into the details of the decade’s policy debates, congressional gridlock, and how calls for energy reform and alternative sources of fuel were no match for the nation’s appetite for lower gas prices. While I can’t wholeheartedly endorse this to every No Expectations reader (“Want 400 pages of ‘70s energy debate minutiae? No lessons are learned for our leaders today!”), I can say it’s an illuminating read in 2026.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 138: Pieces

Josh Terry — Thu, 19 Mar 2026 14:02:00 GMT

No Expectations 138 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Robber Robber, “Pieces”

Thanks for being here. This week felt like it flew by. I was so busy that whenever I’d check the clock, I’d be amazed that it was already so late in the day. Much of my time was spent highlighting my coworkers’ stellar reporting covering Tuesday’s Illinois primaries for the WTTW News Daily Chicagoan newsletter, and the rest found me dreading a potential jury duty summons on Wednesday. Fortunately, I was only on standby; my name wasn’t called, and I didn’t have to head downtown at 9 a.m. to perform a civic duty. I’m also not sure that “I have to finish writing an email newsletter about indie rock by tomorrow morning” would’ve flown as an excuse in court.

Even though my schedule’s been hectic, I still managed to find more great new albums than I had time to write about. While there are a handful of others I plan to highlight next Thursday, these four LPs were especially welcome escapes whenever I had a free moment. If you’re also having a too-packed week, I’d recommend taking a breather with any of them.

4 Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Dialup Ghost, Donkey Howdy

Nashville indie rock band Dialup Ghost’s May You Live Forever in Cowboy Heaven was my favorite 2024 album that I discovered in 2025. I wrote then that it sounded like, “Built to Spill meets Elephant 6 meets Florry.” Donkey Howdy, the band’s latest album, is looser and less frantic than its predecessors. Still, it’s more fully formed. It’s an LP that actively rebels against its hometown music scene’s cosplay cowboys (“Music City Mockingbird”), and how the city prices out musicians from living there comfortably (“Bigger Household”). The pedal steels and fiddles that populated the band’s earlier oeuvre are gone in favor of fuzzed-out riffs and synths. Here, the band sounds relaxed while writing the best songs of their career. “Yer The Only One on My Mind” features verses set on Valentine’s Day 2020: “We canvassed for Bernie on the south side of town / It was apparent we weren’t wanted around.” It’s personality-filled, off-kilter indie rock that’s as galvanizing as it is relatable. Released in full exclusively on Bandcamp (four singles are streaming), this is a rock band at the peak of their powers doing things their own way.

RIYL: Living in Nashville and hating it, songs that are funny but not jokey, working class anthems in 2026

Resavoir, Themes For Dreams

Will Miller has been a good Friend of the Newsletter for over a decade. The Chicago-based trumpeter, producer, and composer was a touring member of Whitney for a while and started Resavoir, which, in a live setting, morphs between a solo outlet, rotating band, and full-blown orchestra. Themes For Dreams is Miller’s first self-released LP and first project with an ultra-specific goal in mind: making music to set in motion a perfect night’s sleep. The 13 tracks here are more interesting than sleepy, but they’re calming and collaborative doses of enveloping ambient jazz. He enlists guests like Marta Sofia Honer and Jeremiah Chiu, as well as Macie Stewart, Molly Rife, and Matt Gold. It’s my favorite project he’s done yet, something that I’ve been revisiting nearly constantly since he first sent it over in late 2025. There are warm tones of a Hohner pianet, immersive sounds of Miller’s EVI (an electronic valve instrument that feels tailor-made for his melodic sensibility), and, of course, his soaring trumpet leads. Sure, this is me being a homer for my bud, but I’ve been a fan for longer than I’ve been a friend. I’m really proud of him. There are some truly mesmerizing songs here.

RIYL: A good night’s sleep, calming jazz, springtime in Chicago

Spencer Hoffman, Cherry Picker

Spencer Hoffman is a Los Angeles via Sacramento songwriter who released a debut LP in 2024 called Apple Core and now follows it up with one called Cherry Picker. While it’s unclear if he’s doing a Sufjan-style “50 States Project” for fruit, it is obvious that these buoyant, bittersweet folk-rock tracks are winners. The lush opening title track is a patiently building stunner. Hoffman’s voice slowly glides over acoustic guitars and subtle pianos before the arrangement eventually explodes into orchestral catharsis. The harmonies as he sings, “Light will blind / Relieve you of your mind,” are genuinely goosebump-inducing. The rest of the LP manages to live up to its thunderously beautiful start, with the breezy “Dandelions” and the mournful, eight-minute “Lotus Eater.” Hoffman’s voice is bright and conversational, and his ear for a timeless melody is truly impressive. It’s a record that somehow captures the bliss of starting a relationship and the gutpunch of its end.

RIYL: Damien Jurado, Labi Siffre, Sylvie

vega, beacon, how blue

In 2024, Burlington, Vermont’s Molly Meehan released an excellent LP of gentle indie rock songs as vega called trust me, i’m trying. (She’s also in the newsletter recommended group Sheepskin). Her new record, beacon, how blue, wields a softer touch. The nine gorgeous, openhearted tracks here are melancholic but unfold with a palpable lightness and grace. Standouts like “cow country” are marked by woozy twang, while the delicate but commanding “one more swim” is dreamy and waltz-like. Meehan’s voice is expressive and inviting, and as a bandleader, she has a knack for arrangements that are ornate but never fussy. Take “guardian angel,” which boasts subtle clarinet and finds Meehan singing, “Try to be grateful for what comes / Even if it’s not what you wanted.” On her Bandcamp page, Meehan’s artist description reads “music for sofites.” While that’s certainly true here, few albums this year are as quietly compelling.

RIYL: Hannah Frances, Andy Shauf, Sadurn

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 138 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify* // Tidal

Horse Lords, “Brain of the Firm”
Robber Robber, “Pieces”
Lily Seabird, “Demon in Me”
Brown Horse, “Wreck”
Kevin Morby, “Die Young”
vega, “cow country”
Dialup Ghost, “Bigger Household”
Spencer Hoffman, “Dandelions”
Andrew Sa, “Lavender Cowboy” (feat. HC McEntire)
Arima Ederra, “Took The Long Way Home”
Mei Semones, “Tooth Fairy” (feat. John Roseboro)
Wendy Eisenberg, “Vanity Paradox”
Sam Blasucci, “EVENING STORM”
My New Band Believe, “Love Story”
Resavoir, “Memories of Dreams”

* = vega’s “cow country” is not on Spotify

What I watched:

Sisu (directed by Jalmari Helander)

With Sisu, an action-packed 2022 movie about an ex-Finnish soldier turned gold miner who gets his treasure stolen by Nazis in 1944 Northern Lapland and fights to get it back, you know exactly what you’re signing up for. It’s John Wick meets Mad Max: Fury Road meets Inglorious Basterds. You are not watching this to learn about the human condition: you want to see some fascists get torn apart by a burly Nordic man. However light it is on pathos and character-building, it makes up for it with a bunch of stylized fight sequences, increasingly gruesome deaths, and a cute dog (who, spoiler, stays alive throughout the movie). It’s a blast, and future comfort watch, but my major complaint is that most of the dialogue is in English. I get that Lionsgate wanted this film to reach a wider audience, but they could’ve easily allowed most of their actors to speak in their mother tongues, especially because the dialogue was so sparse. While I doubt the recently-released sequel will be my next watch, it’s definitely on the list.

What I read:

The Sense of an Ending (by Julian Barnes)

When someone recommends a book, movie, or album to me, I’ll sometimes get around to it right away, and other times it’ll take me nearly 15 years. The other week, I was clearing up space on my laptop, and I found an old notes file from college titled “Recommended books 2012.” Julian Barnes’ Man Booker prize-winning The Sense of an Ending was on it, and while I don’t remember who told me to check it out, I finally did this month. It’s a slim novel at 163 pages, but it’s not a particularly light read. (It’s about the fallibility of memory, self-delusion, lost friendships, and death). It follows Tony Webster, a retired British man who struggles to look back on his childhood and college years. There’s even a twist ending that’s legitimately shocking, something that’s hard to do in such a short book. While it was adapted into a 2017 movie starring Jim Broadbent and Charlotte Rampling, I have no interest in seeing how the narrator’s unreliable memories translate to the screen (even though I enjoyed the book).

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 137: Good Friend

Josh Terry — Thu, 12 Mar 2026 14:03:05 GMT

No Expectations 137 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Gia Margaret, “Good Friend”

Thanks for being here. Maybe the number one question I get from readers (besides “can you write about my band?”) is “how do you manage to consume so much media every week?” The simplest answer is that this is how I’ve always spent my free time. I like listening to new music, watching movies, and reading books. In fact, I love it so much that I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to finagle a career out of writing about my interests. This is who I am. I can be many things, but I am never bored.

Having this newsletter keeps me honest. I purposely formatted it to include weekly sections about movies and books, along with new LP recommendations, to force me to be more on top of things. Self-imposed deadlines really work. If it’s a Monday evening and I realize I haven’t finished a book or checked out a new movie, I’ll devote time to get that done before I write a No Expectations post on Tuesdays. This is also a way I procrastinate writing while still feeling productive.

This week was a bit of a struggle. While I immediately knew what new albums I was going to write about, every other interest was subsumed by watching tennis. When my friends asked me how my week was going, I had trouble coming up with anything better than “Great! I watched a ton of tennis.” I skipped all movie viewing this week in favor of the Tennis Channel’s broadcast of the Indian Wells Open, where 128 ATP and 128 WTA players head to the Coachella Valley for a two-week-long tournament. It’s arguably the second-most prestigious American competition in the sport, and I’ve been locked in. Even when I wasn’t glued to my couch taking in the matches, I finished two, albeit very short, books on the sport.

Don’t worry, No Expectations is still a blog about new, independent artists. I appreciate your patience here: you sign up for a newsletter to read about indie rock, and you get several weeks of unsolicited thoughts on sports. While I promise there will be less of that in this newsletter going forward, sometimes it’s nice to fully dive into a totally different rabbit hole.

4 Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Dagmar Zuniga, in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music

In January last year, the Brooklyn-based artist and NTS Radio curator Dagmar Zuniga uploaded a collection of home-recorded folk songs to Bandcamp and YouTube. It quietly gained an audience, catching the attention of Mount Eerie’s Phil Everum, who took her on tour in 2025 and re-released it to vinyl and streaming last week. At 14 tracks and just a notch over the half-hour mark, in filth your mystery is kingdom / far smile peasant in yellow music is sketchlike as it is immersive, ghostly as it is beautiful, and as unorthodox as it is memorable. While it maintains a delicate whisper throughout its runtime, it never fails to be beguiling and engaging. “Plenty For All The Masses” keeps a propulsive acoustic strum anchoring spectral, loping harmonies while “Photograph the Hard Way” boasts muted synths and a metronomic beat. Few LPs from either last year or this one are as effortless at building an idiosyncratic world that always feels welcoming. While I’m embarrassed that I missed an opportunity to write about it upon its initial release, I’m grateful it’s got a second life in 2026.

RIYL: A music box that’s also haunted, Mount Eerie, Jessica Pratt

Doll Spirit Vessel, Bow

Philadelphia’s Doll Spirit Vessel thrive on making indie rock that’s genuinely unpredictable and interesting. Led by songwriter Kati Malison, whose voice can instantly contort from a throaty snarl to a feathery coo, the band shows tangible range on their sophomore LP, Bow. There are freak-folk dirges (“Gushers”), string-laden stunners (“Godless”), blistering alt-rockers (“Maryland”), and nervy post-punk stompers (“Ordinary Distance”) featured throughout these 10 songs. The energetic tunes are all performed with a galvanizing vigor, while the softer ones receive a patient, thoughtful touch. The winding, cathartic penultimate track “Dumptruck” is the best of the bunch, though. It’s such an immediate gutpunch that you can tell this band is absolutely electric live.

RIYL: Hop Along, Wednesday, Mothers

Natalie Jane Hill, Hopeful Woman

This is an instant album of the year contender. Natalie Jane Hill is a Texas-raised, Western North Carolina-based songwriter who made an impossibly lush, confident, and stunning album in Hopeful Woman. Earlier this year, I was floored when I saw her perform most of the songs totally solo, opening up for Friendship. But on record, the arrangements get a verdant and earthy full-band treatment, and it’s even more awe-inspiring. The cosmic, simmering single “Never Left Me” is hazy with wailing pedal steel and galloping acoustic strums, while the introspective “Colors” gets twinkling pianos and resplendent strings. Hill’s voice is rich, expressive, and piercing when it needs to be, especially when she sings lines as devastating as this from “Blue Is the Color of My Sun:” “And the hardest part of the day / Isn’t when you look away / It’s when you’re right there.” Throughout, every note, arrangement flourish, and lyric is intentional and near-flawless. It’s a record that is overwhelmingly gorgeous on first impression and masterful on each subsequent listen.

RIYL: Sandy Denny, Karen Dalton, timeless songwriting

Symbol Soup, Stepping on the Same Rakes

If you’re ever in a musical rut, one way to discover new-to-you acts is to look at one of your favorite artists’ tour schedules and check out the local openers on that run. Sure, sometimes you’ll think “wow, that’s a weird booking,” but more often than not you’ll find something to really dig into. Symbol Soup, the folk-rock project of the U.K.’s Michael Rea, opened for Lily Seabird last year in London. Even though I was a continent away, seeing the poster on social media made me check out his music. He just put out a new LP earlier in March called Stepping on the Same Rakes, and it’s a charming and conversational batch of understated earworms. Rea excels at an ambling, unhurried pace, like on the woozy and dreamy instrumental “Conversations Halt” and the moody “Rakes.” But the true joys of the record come when he raises the decibels like on the soaring single “Miniatures” and the eight-minute title track “Cardinal,” which features a welcome explosive riff. Operating at the intersection of intimate and inviting, Rea’s breezy melodies will stick with ya.

RIYL: Renny Conti, Villagerr, Pinback

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 137 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

i26connector, “Cut My Hair”
Doll Spirit Vessel, “Dumptruck”
Gia Margaret, “Good Friend”
Symbol Soup, “Miniatures”
GOON, “Atrium”
youbet, “Receive”
Morgan Nagler, “Hurt”
Dutch Interior, “Go Fuck Yourself”
Angelo De Augustine, “Mirror Mirror”
Thomas Dollbaum, “Dozen Roses”
Cass McCombs, Chris Cohen, “Steel Reserve”
Spencer Cullum, “Jackie Paints”
Lowertown, “Big Thumb”
Natalie Jane Hill, “Blue is the Color of My Sun”
Dagmar Zuniga, “Plenty For All The Masses”

Gig recap: The Dead Bolts, Good Looks at Metro Chicago (3/7)

Before Texas’ Good Looks released their debut album Bummer Year in 2022, I took them out for pizza when they played their first Chicago show at Cole’s. We’ve been close buds ever since, so much so that I make a point to clear my schedule whenever they’re in town. On Saturday, they opened for the rising Chicago alt-rockers the Dead Bolts at Metro, playing a ripping set that included a handful of new tunes. Though I was unfamiliar with the headliners going into it, they put on a fun show: purveyors of raucous, no-frills anthems that evoke Fontaines D.C., Local Natives, and early Kings of Leon. With members from Beverly and Oak Lawn, the gig atmosphere felt like a rowdy South Side high school reunion. I also heard from some Friends of the Newsletter who bartended that night that the crowd punched above their weight class in terms of drink sales. A stellar night of easy-to-root-for rock music.

What I watched:

The 2026 Indian Wells Open (streamed via Tennis Channel)

Few things this year have captured my attention and imagination more acutely than tennis. The latest tournament has been the 2026 Indian Wells Open. It’s like March Madness in the sense that the games start at 1 p.m. my time and usually end around midnight. There are ample upsets, thrilling contests, and a lot of drama. I’ve been locked in from round one to, by the time this newsletter runs, the quarterfinals. Most of the sports I love are team-based. While there’s individual flair and talent in soccer and basketball, it’s all in the service of the unit. Even in NASCAR, something I unironically love, a bad pit stop can ruin a driver’s best-ever run.

With singles tennis, it’s just two people facing off on the court. Sure, it’s a battle of talent, tactics, and training, but it’s also character and temperament. “A person’s tennis game begins with his nature and background and comes out through his motor mechanisms into shot patterns and characteristics of play,” wrote John McPhee in his 1969 classic New Yorker cover stories turned book, Levels of the Game. “If he is deliberate, he is a deliberate tennis player; and if he is flamboyant, his game probably is, too.” Almost six decades later, this is still true: Alcaraz and Sinner couldn’t be more different, and that reflects in their games.

Watching this year’s tournament, I’ve fallen in love with the playing of rising Brazilian star João Fonseca, who lost to Jannik Sinner on Tuesday in a riotous match that featured two sets of tiebreak tennis. His forehand is unreal, and I bet he will be a top 10 player by the end of 2026. I’ve also been impressed by American Learner Tien, who himself faces Sinner today, and Colombian women’s player Camila Osorio, who upset Americans Sloane Stephens and Iva Jovic before falling to Naomi Osaka in three sets. If you watch the sport’s biggest stars, it’s transcendent, but it’s just as fun to witness a young player rise through the rankings.

What I read:

Levels of the Game (by John McPhee)*

In 1969, New Yorker writer John McPhee published two cover stories for the magazine that served as a two-part profile of 1968 U.S. Open semifinalists Arthur Ashe and Clark Graebner. His piece documents the thrilling four-set match as well as the two competitors’ disparate backgrounds and dispositions. McPhee’s prose is engaging whether he’s talking about the on-court action or the sociopolitical contexts at play between Ashe, a Black player who growing up in Jim Crow Virginia could not compete against white players, and Graebner, a straight-laced Republican from Ohio who was also a paper salesman before turning pro. There’s a reason this is considered one of the major classics of sportswriting.

*The other tennis book I finished this week is Racquet: The Book, a collection of essays and articles that originally ran in Racquet Magazine. I enjoyed it a lot, but won’t write about it here since I think that’s enough tennis at No Expectations (for now).

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 136: Choo Choo

Josh Terry — Thu, 05 Mar 2026 15:02:06 GMT

No Expectations 136 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Friko, “Choo Choo”

Thanks for being here. I went to two shows last week, and both brought me to Lakeview’s GMan Tavern. It’s not an exaggeration to say that I spent my twenties at this bar. Though it’s been years since I lived in a neighborhood where it’s a convenient walk or bus ride away, it’s still one of my favorite places in the world. Being back Thursday and Saturday reminded me how much that place meant to me and how it was the setting of so many good memories in my life. There’s a reason it keeps getting named “Best Neighborhood Bar” in the Chicago Reader’s annual Best of Chicago poll.

My first visit was right after I turned 21. At the time, I was entering a writing career, and most of my college friends had either gone to grad school or moved back home. I was lonely and underemployed, but this was the first place where the door guy remembered me, and the bartenders knew my drink order immediately. Right off the bat, I felt welcomed and comfortable. So, it became a second home. I celebrated each new journalism job there, mourned each subsequent layoff, and got to know all the staff and regulars, many of whom are still close friends. For a few years, I hosted and booked an annual New Year’s Eve party, where I got bands to DJ a free event to raise money for a neighborhood food pantry (it’s been a decade, but the 2016 lineup of Finom, NE-HI, Twin Peaks, Knox Fortune, and Whitney will forever be one of the most fun nights of my life). As it’s steps from Wrigley Field, it’s also where I partied when the Cubs won the World Series. I also remain in the fantasy football league my GMan friends started in 2014.

Now, for any young people here, I wouldn’t necessarily recommend going to a bar as much as I did at that age. I definitely should’ve read more books and saved more money, but being a regular was absolutely formative for me. As long as you tip well, don’t cause problems, and are kind and respectful, a neighborhood dive can become an oasis. GMan’s owned by the guy behind the iconic venue Metro and staffed mostly by musicians, so I got to meet so many artists just sitting on a corner barstool: members of the Replacements, Rage Against the Machine, Alkaline Trio, house music legends, not to mention actors, athletes, comedians, and journalists. The Lawrence Arms’ Brendan Kelly was even my weekday bartender for several years, and through osmosis, I developed a near encyclopedic knowledge of Chicago punk. They even let me use their back room for interviews, including one where I made Ryley Walker listen to Leonard Cohen for the first time.

Though only one bartender and one door guy are still working there since my first visit in 2012, it’s remained largely unchanged despite all the new faces. Sure, there’s a cocktail menu now, and the pool tables in the back (where they filmed some of The Color of Money) were taken out to become a concert venue, but the same regulars are there watching Jeopardy every evening, and it’s still a full house after a Metro show or a Cubs game. On Saturday, I ran into a bunch of old buds—each of us making a return to the same corner of the bar where we’d congregate throughout the 2010s. While I’m not really a weekly regular at any bar these days, it was nice to remember how a place can feel like a community and how things can still feel the same even when everything’s changed. Also nice? Still realizing I get “the regular’s discount.”

3 Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Lala Lala, Heaven 2

Lala Lala’s Lillie West spent her formative years and first few albums living in Chicago. I’ve seen her play countless times, totally solo or with a full band, in several states and two countries, and each performance has been electric. Over the past half-decade, though, she’s left Chicago for stints in Taos, Iceland, and now Los Angeles. Though I miss running into her around the city, I’m grateful that she’s putting out her best work yet with the lush and immersive Heaven 2. Released via Sub Pop and produced by Jay Som’s Melina Duterte, she fully dives into the mesmeric electronic palette she’s been perfecting since 2021’s I Want the Door To Open. Songs like opener “Car Anymore” boast ping-ponging keyboard stabs, and on “Anywave,” searing blasts of distortion merge with bubbly synths. However gauzy the arrangements get, it’s always hypnotic, especially paired with West’s ability to make gutting emotional revelations sound conversational. The title track opens with the lines, “Heaven is a moment / Hell is a life / I'm forever broken / Neck against the knife,” but it still somehow sounds inviting. West thrives at a memorable chorus, and you won’t find a better one than on the single “Does This Go Faster?” For all the dreamlike melancholy here, it obvious West is having a blast making music again.

RIYL: M83, Grapetooth, New Order

Pileup, Leave the Light On

With a name like Pileup, you’d expect an onslaught of noise, controlled chaos, and a copious amount of pummeling riffs. That’s all there in spades on the Portland indie rock band’s sophomore LP Leave the Light On, but there’s also a graceful, often beautiful pop-minded core throughout the tracklist. Standout single “Lightning” bursts open with wailing lead guitars, but also delicately plucked banjo, before main songwriter Nathan Urbach coos, “I shouldn’t stand out in the open / I saw you up against the ocean in a dream.” This is shoegaze at its most transportive and introspective, especially on the winsome “Going Away.” This is a band that operates on extremes. There’s the plaintive folk of “Willow Leaves,” dirgelike slowcore of “Turning,” and a raging 6-minute guitar freakout in “No Pyre, No Rememberance” all populating the back half of Side B. It all works seamlessly.

RIYL: Shoegaze that doesn’t suck, riffs that rip, and melodies with a soft core

Star Moles, Highway To Hell

Star Moles, the folk-pop project of New Hampshire native and Philadelphia resident Emily Moales, finds a true spark in casual approaches. Her last LP, one of 2025’s best, was called Snack Monster and was tracked largely via a Tascam recorder. A minute into her stellar follow-up, Highway to Hell, Moales catches herself singing a wrong lyric, pauses briefly, and mutters something on the mic, and corrects course. It doesn’t detract from the song, a soaring ‘70s-inspired opener that’s cheekily called “The End.” Rather, it adds intimacy and charm: the two winning qualities make this one of the year’s clear standout albums. She’s perceptive and funny on songs like “Time,” which kicks off with a line like “Sometimes I think I’m making a friend when I see a smiling face / but then it comes to an end / They get whisked away.” Elsewhere on “Overdog,” she’s singing as if she’s simultaneously letting you in on an inside joke and allowing you to read her diary,” when she says, “I need you like I need a hole in my head / I need a hole in my head / How else could I sing?” For the low-key facade these songs are wrapped in, Moales makes songs that sound timeless and effortless. A sneaky stunner of an LP with a whimsy and theatricality that’s infectious.

RIYL: Harry Nilsson, playful piano, Fiona Apple, loose and breezy writing

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 136 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify* // Tidal

1. Friko, “Choo Choo”
2. villagerrr, “Locket”
3. Pileup, “Lightning”
4. Swapmeet, “I Know!”
5. Accessory, “Safeword”
6. Ken Park, “Nosebleed”
7. Sluice, “Zillow”
8. Buck Meek, “Soul Feeling”
9. The Clearwater Swimmers, “Engine”
10. Lala Lala, “Even Mountains Erode”
11. Greg Mendez, “I Wanna Feel Pretty”
12. vega, “out there”
13. Hiding Places, “One Hand”
14. Jackie West, “New Moon”
15. Star Moles, “Real Magic”

*Note: vega’s “out there” is not on Spotify

**Second note: I need to apologize for last week’s Spotify playlist. I no longer use the service, but I still port over the weekly mixes there using a web app. 95% of the time it works great, but not last Thursday. I usually check to make sure the tracklist is all set, but I didn’t last week, so listeners got a track by the ‘80s metal outfit Extreme instead of Mod Lang, who have removed their music from Spotify. Readers also heard a Deerhunter song, “Desire Lines,” in there too, instead of Nashpaints’ “Desire”, but that honestly worked. It’s a good thing I double checked this go around, because you would’ve had to listen to “Out There” from The Hunchback of Notre Dame soundtrack instead of the single of the same name by vega.

Gig recap: Cash Langdon, Glass-Beagle, Joe Glass at Gman Tavern (2/26)

A three-band bill with two Chicago acts opening, and all three are newsletter favorites? Also, it’s at the bar I’ve been to most in my life? Sometimes the universe gives you a sign to go see a stellar rock show on a Thursday night. After releasing the No Expectations-approved Dogs this time last year, I managed to catch Birmingham’s Cash Langdon live at the now-shuttered venue The Fallen Log. It rocked, but when he booked a return date later at GMan, he had to cancel the gig due to illness. It all worked out because Glass-Beagle, one of Chicago’s foremost bands combining gnarly riffs with ample twang, joined him alongside recent favorite and Sharp Pins member Joe Glass. All in all, it was the best way to start a weekend. Each band here is the real deal.

Gig recap: Margo Price, Logan Ledger at Metro Chicago (2/28)

Margo Price’s Hard Headed Woman was a 2025 favorite, and one LP that I’ve revisited a lot this year. She boasts an easy charisma and an even more natural knack for dynamic melodies and personality-filled lyrics. For whatever reason, while I’ve followed her career for years, last Saturday was the first time I had a chance to see her live. I had a better reason to attend than ever now that her band includes Friend of the Newsletter Sean Thompson (of Sean Thompson’s Weird Ears and Shrunken Elvis) on lead guitar. It’s a gig that he’s had for about a year, and if you’ve seen any live footage from social media or gotten lucky enough to attend a show, you’ll know my guy is nailing it. Never content to stay in one mode, scale, or style, the 18-song set boasted great covers (Blaze Foley, George Jones, Bob Dylan, Waylon Jennings, etc) alongside roaring renditions of her biggest songs: just a blast all-around, an efficient 80-minute gig of straight heat. I’m fully on the Margo train now, and I can happily report that a new Sean Thompson’s Weird Ears LP is arriving very soon.

What I watched:

The Pitt (HBO Max)

The older I get, the less interested I am in TV. “It gets good after the fourth episode? Wow, man, I gotta check that out.” While nine times out of 10 I’d prefer to watch a movie, HBO Max’s hospital drama The Pitt is a notable exception. It rules. It’s well-acted and well-written, smart enough where you learn something, but soapy enough to be compulsively bingeable. It’s tense and often gory thanks to its emergency room setting, but oddly comforting in no small part from regular onscreen depictions of kindness, compassion, and treating patients with dignity. Every doctor and nurse is likable (except for the medical student named Ogilvie), the claustrophobic and kinetic camerawork is gripping, and the episodes breeze by even when it reaches the hour mark. When I first saw a trailer for it before the first season, I thought, “There’s no way I’m going to watch this.” I’m glad I got over that knee-jerk reaction.

What I read:

String Theory: David Foster Wallace on Tennis (by David Foster Wallace)

I’ve been watching more tennis than usual this year. I realized my cable plan gives me access to the Tennis Channel’s app, which allows me to stream basically every non-Grand Slam WTA and ATP match. Beyond this sport being the one I played most growing up and one of my favorites to witness on TV, I honestly just love having something on during the day while I work. Another great thing about tennis is that it produces the best sports writing ever. This year, I’ve read Giri Nathan’s Changeover, about the rivalry between Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner, and I’m currently revisiting John McPhee’s classic Levels of the Game, about the 1968 U.S. Open semifinal between Arthur Ashe and Clark Graebner. But last week, I finally got around to a slim essay collection that’s been wasting away on my shelf: String Theory: David Foster Wallace on Tennis. Now, I had already read two of the five pieces compiled here: one on DFW’s childhood as a competitive and regionally ranked junior tennis player, and the other is his masterful New York Times profile of Roger Federer from 2006. Both are alltimers and both were a blast to reread. The new-to-me articles covered a bad memoir by former pro Tracy Austin, a scene report during the qualifiers at the 1995 Canadian Open, and an examination of the commercialization of the U.S. Open, where DFW complains about paying $3.50 for a hot dog. All were bangers. It’s been a long time since I last read his work, but it was a joy to rediscover why I loved it so much and still do.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.

No Expectations 135: Hedgesitting

Josh Terry — Thu, 26 Feb 2026 15:02:26 GMT

No Expectations 135 (cover image by Zack James)

Headline song: Cola, “Hedgesitting”

Thanks for being here. If there’s one thing I can guarantee at No Expectations, it’s that if I recommend a new LP here, it’s because I genuinely enjoy it and think you will too. I won’t cover albums if my take is “pretty cool, I guess.” Nor will I rave about LPs that other critics are effusive about if I’m not fully in agreement. There’s a lot of just OK music out there, and that’s fine! I write this newsletter for fun. There’s no need to fill a quota, and there’s no point if I’m telling you to check out something that I’m only so-so on.

Anyone can write about music, and if you want to do it too, it’s probably because you’re confident in your tastes. That was me when I applied for my first music journalism gig. But when I somehow got the internship and actually had to write every day, I realized I was just another 20-year-old who liked music. (“Oh, a liberal arts undergrad in 2012 likes Tame Impala’s Lonerism? Holy shit, man! You should totally be a critic.”) Sure, I may have known more than some of my peers, but I was totally out of my depth compared to those who had already made music journalism a career. My favorite records suddenly felt like pedestrian picks, and my insights seemed obvious. Don’t even get me started on the state of my prose back then.

That I recognized this immediately is probably the best explanation for why I’m still doing it 15 years later. This is a discipline where you’re always learning, constantly interrogating your opinions, and listening to so much music you had no idea about. You’re also reading everything you can, figuring out what works and what doesn’t. Had I failed to understand that early, I would’ve quit and done something else within months.

For a writer starting out, this was a necessary and humbling revelation. It also made me think that if I didn’t love a record that was receiving critical acclaim, I was simply too stupid to fully “get it.” If something earned, say, a Best New Music at Pitchfork, I’d painstakingly try to see what the writer saw in it. Even if it repulsed me on first listen, I’d force myself understand why others loved it and convince myself it was worthwhile. These listening exercises allowed me to discover some amazing music I wouldn’t have given a chance otherwise. Sometimes you need to escape your comfort zone to find the real gems. Over time, however, I eventually figured out that some writers just have different, sometimes worse, tastes. It’s legal!

This week, I read reviews from some of my favorite critics praising a handful of new releases that I figured would be perfect fits for No Expectations. Their blurbs made the full-lengths sound exactly like the kind of thing I’d cover here, but when I listened to them, they didn’t click. One I even actively hated. Throughout the week, I kept trying, but they still didn’t work for me. While I won’t name what didn’t make the cut (paying subscribers can DM me, though), I will say that internally pinpointing why I skipped those releases was just as fun as finding the four records below I truly loved. Music journalism would be in an even more dire place if everyone’s preferences magically aligned.

4 Albums Worth Your Time This Week

Liz Cooper, New Day

Great albums aren’t just collections of really good songs. They should also boast eclectic tunes that are stellar in drastically different ways, but cohesive enough to live comfortably as a singular body of work. Liz Cooper’s latest LP, New Day, passes this rubric with flying colors. It’s the first full-length in five years for the now-Vermont-based artist, and it feels like a reinvention. Across 10 undeniable tracks, it’s a masterclass in infectious hooks and vibrant, slyly psychedelic arrangements that she co-produced with Dan Molad. As a frontperson and bandleader, Cooper is explosive and charismatic, with personality-filled yet affecting writing. Two of its singles, “IDFK” and “Sorry (That I Love You),” transform melancholy into wistful pop bliss, with the latter featuring lines like, “Do you think about me? / I think I’m better now, I hope you’re better now,” Elsewhere, she channels Radiohead on the haunting string-laden, “Changes, and Feist on the cathartic “Boy Toy” and closer “Baby Steps.” Few records this year are as charming and impressive as Cooper’s breakthrough.

RIYL: Broken Social Scene, Crumb, doing your best work a decade into your career

Mod Lang, Borrowed Time

Power-pop has always thrived in the Midwest, but lately, a younger generation of bands here has carried the torch of Big Star, the dBs, and Teenage Fanclub better than most. Chicago boasts Sharp Pins and Joe Glass, and Good Flying Birds are from Indiana, but Detroit has Mod Lang. This quartet just released a scorcher debut of unfussy '60s-inspired rock’n’roll in Borrowed Time. Thing thing rips. Throughout the LP’s 10 tracks, pristine sing-along earworm choruses are matched by its rousing, propulsive, and crunchy jangle-pop riffs. Guitarists Antonio Keka and Alex Belfie share vocal duties, harmonizing with tangible precision on the single “TV Star” and the opener “What I Can’t Have.” Other tunes like “Those Words” add some Byrds-like breeziness, while “In the Morning” is a solid take on folksy balladry. By writing such sturdy and memorable pop songs, they avoid the kitschy trap that lesser groups fall into when making such self-consciously throwback music. This is the real deal, and I can’t wait to see it live.

RIYL: Sharp Pins, bands named after Big Star songs, the Beatles

Nashpaints, Everyone Good Is Called Molly

When the Irish musician Finn Carraher McDonald isn’t collaborating with his countrymen Princ€ss and Maria Somerville, he’s making music as Nashpaints. It’s a ghostly pop solo project that first released an LP in 2020, and now has followed it up with the gorgeous and beguiling Everyone Good Is Called Molly. It’s a patient and expansive album that comes to life via an undistracted headphones listen: you’ll be enveloped by the aqueous, hazy textures in the production and enthralled by the rich wealth of references from ‘60s girl groups, to ‘80s dream pop, ‘90s shoegaze, and the contemporary Copenhagen experimental-pop scene. Standouts like “Stretching” feature delicate arpeggios and cavernous reverb, “Boyfriend First” balloons near the seven-minute mark thanks to gnarly, fuzzed-out guitars, and “Desire” is anchored by a crystalline, chiming chord progression that feels like the Velvet Underground fed through a music box. Like Cindy Lee’s Diamond Jubilee, this is a deeply nostalgic record that pines for something that doesn’t exist. Alien and alive, it’s a mesmerizing and confounding full-length.

RIYL: Escho, Cindy Lee, buying records on Boomkat

Remember Sports, The Refrigerator

Last year, Remember Sports’ Carmen Perry collaborated with Friendship and Hour’s Michael Comier O’Leary on a fantastic solo album called Eyes Like a Mirror, focusing on her conversational lyrics, earthy instrumentation, and effortless pop-songwriting. Though her main band hasn’t released a record since 2021, they sound invigorated on February’s The Refrigerator, their best-yet release. Perry’s an expert at finding the intersection of anthemic and intimate, especially on the rollicking opener “Across the Line.” It’s a banger channeling late ‘90s pop rock with ample twang, and finds Perry singing, “Dried flowers spelling out for me, how? / You were just another face in the crowd.” While it’s a palette well mined by acts like Ratboys and Waxahatchee, Remember Sports carve out their own lane handily through these dozen tracks. “Bug” hearkens back to their early days as a punk band, while “Roadkill” is soft and sweet, showcasing their decade-plus evolution. There’s not a bad song here, a perfect example of a longtime band growing together and bettering themselves.

RIYL: Ratboys, all eras of Waxahatchee, Gladie

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 135 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

1. Cola, “Hedgesitting”
2. Stuck, “Deadlift”
3. My New Band Believe, “Numerology”
4. Dialup Ghost, “Sunny Boy”
5. Liz Cooper, “Sorry (That I Love You)”
6. Remember Sports, “Across The Line”
7. Mikaela Davis, “(Looking Through) Rose Colored Glasses” (feat. Madison Cunningham)
8. Wendy Eisenberg, “Old Myth Dying”
9. Dean Johnson, “The Rapture”
10. Mod Lang, “Those Words”
11. Star Moles, “Time”
12. Tasha, “Little Sparrow”
13. Nashpaints, “Desire”
14. Alabaster Deplume, “It’s Only Now Once (Elbit Systems Windowpane)”
15. Yaya Bey, “Blue”

Gig recap: Margaux, Lucky Cloud at Hideout (2/20)

When I heard Margaux’s debut EP in 2019, I was floored. She put out a newsletter favorite LP with Inside the Marble in 2024 and I can’t wait to hear what releases next. While I’ve seen her perform in bands like Katy Kirby, Closebye, and Dougie Poole and play her own music solo in 2025, last Friday was my first time witnessing the full band experience. For a headlining set at Hideout, the now Philly-based songwriter brought bassist Conor Kenahan and drummer Zeb Stern to form her trio. It was a stunning, lovely set made even better by Friend of the Newsletter Chet Zenor of Lucky Cloud opening things up with a solo show. Both acts on the bill are exceptionally talented and two of the easiest people to root for in the industry. A perfect way to start a weekend.

What I watched:

No Other Choice (directed by Park Chan-wook)

Few directors are as stylistically inventive as Korea’s Park Chan-wook. From the simmering thriller of Decision to Leave, the tonally subversive DMZ drama Joint Security Area, and now that pitch-black gig economy satire No Other Choice, he’s an auteur at playing with the form and his audience’s expectations. This film begins with an idyllic family whose patriarch has devoted decades to a paper company that soon lays him off, as well as his team. He promises to find a new job within three months and fails. Faced with foreclosure, humiliation, and financial ruin, he turns to, uh, unconventional means to finally get hired. It’s a sometimes unbearably tense and cringe-inducing watch that totally nails the landing. Horrific as it is hilarious, no one’s doing it quite like Park Chan-wook.

What I read:

The End of Eddy (by Édouard Louis)

The French writer Édouard Louis first published his debut novel, a semi-autobiographical roman à clef called The End of Eddy, in 2014. It became a sensation in his home country, selling hundreds of thousands of copies before it was translated into English in 2017. It’s been on my list since then, and I finally got around to it this month. It follows Eddy Bellegueule, a child growing up poor and gay in a working-class suburb during the aughts. His father, a factory worker prone to drinking and violence, gets injured on the job. His mother quietly and not-so-quietly fumes at her situation. His classmates relentlessly bully him for being different. Where that sounds like an oppressively brutal read, Louis finds heart, insight, and healing in the most dire and depressing moments depicted in the novel. It’s a stunner of a book, one that eschews coming-of-age happy endings for something more complicated and human.

The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:

The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.