No Expectations 135: Hedgesitting

New albums from Liz Cooper, Mod Lang, Remember Sports, and more. Plus, Park Chan-wook's 'No Other Choice' and Édouard Louis' 'The End of Eddy.'

No Expectations 135 (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.

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Headline song: Cola, “Hedgesitting”

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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.

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.

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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

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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

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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 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

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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

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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”

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.