No Expectations 146: Wild World
Five stellar albums I should have written about in 2025. Plus, “Blue Heron” and a 15-song playlist of new-to-me tracks from last year.
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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.
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.
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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:
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