No Expectations 145: Fenceline
Recommended new albums from Mildred, Pearla, Brad Goodall, and more. Plus, seeing Bruce Springsteen for the first time.
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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.
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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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.
I had a Bolano Year when my kids were little. The only books I've ever read on a phone. Black background, white letters. 2666 one swipe at a time was a trip. His work is a gift.
Still a lot of time left in the year, but as of today, youbet's album is my favorite of 2026