No Expectations 111: The Joke
Six new albums worth your time. Plus, another cool milestone for this newsletter.
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: Dari Bay, “The Joke”
Thanks for being here. I’m honestly floored by the response that the newsletter’s 40 Best Albums of 2025 So Far post received. Whenever I publish a list at No Expectations, it always does well, but that pales in comparison to the hundreds of sign-ups, dozens of new paid subscribers, pageviews, and likes that this midyear roundup got. It’s the most popular entry in newsletter history by far. Unreal! I hope you all found a record to buy or a gig to attend when one of these acts visits your city. It means the world to me that you’re here and giving this blog a chance.
I started this writing project in 2022 as a recently laid-off music journalist with the hopes that it’d give me something to do. If it’d allow me to casually update my friends, professional acquaintances, and random Twitter followers on what I’m currently listening to and interested in, then great! Now, there are over 7,500 people here. While that number is occasionally super stressful for me, it’s mostly just really cool. What a sick milestone! I’m so grateful that almost three years into this, more curious readers than I could’ve imagined want to hear about independent, under-the-radar artists making worthwhile music.
Whenever I think about how I discovered my favorite acts, it’s never been spoon-fed from an algorithm. Instead, it’s usually because a loved one or someone whose taste I trust told me to check it out. Or, it’s because I got out of the house, went to a local venue, and had my brain rewired by a band I knew nothing about. No matter what you listen to, the music is always a product of not just one artist’s tastes and life experiences but of their local communities and arts scenes. I’ve been writing about music since 2012, and the one thing that remains true is that the best stuff is always on the fringes. I’m grateful No Expectations can help with your digging.
If you’re one of the 1000 or so folks who are new to No Expectations, here’s a short explainer of what you signed up for. 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 at the bottom of every newsletter.
As always, you can sign up for a paid subscription or tell a friend about a band you read about here. 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 I’m grateful you’re still reading and supporting this writing project.
A quick announcement:
On Tuesday, my friend Brian A. Anderson published Loud and Clear: The Grateful Dead’s Wall of Sound and the Quest for Audio Perfection. It’s fantastic and worth reading even if you’re not a Deadhead. For folks in the Chicago area, I’m interviewing Brian this evening at the Gman Tavern. Dead Inside DJs. Details here. It should be a packed room, so get there early.
6 Albums Worth Your Time This Week
The Bug Club, Very Human Features
Welsh duo the Bug Club have been churning out raucous and hook-laden oddball garage rock tunes at a breathless pace over the past few years. Each release has combined deceptively simple pop melodies with straight-out-of-the-garage ramshackle energy (I included their 47-track LP Rare Birds: Hour of Songs in the 2023 No Expectations best-of list and dug their Sub Pop debut, On the Intricate Inner Workings of the System). Their latest, Very Human Features, finds the group streamlining what makes them such a charming and fascinating band: the choruses are catchier, their jokes are funnier without relying on filler skits, and their songs are tightly wound and well-constructed. The magic of this band is how, underneath the facade of low-stakes slacker-pop, they’re songwriting savants who can write tunes so infectious they burrow into your consciousness. Just take the wistful “Jealous Boy,” the self-lacerating humor of “Full Grown Man,” or the ebullient vocal interplay between Sam Willmett and Tilly Harris, and you’ll find artists jumping leaps and bounds over their peers without seeming to try hard at all.
Daughter of Swords, Alex
I first heard about Mountain Man via a few viral Myspace-era recordings of original folk tunes that were self-consciously retro doses of dusty Appalachian Americana. They were sparse but pretty, anchored by the pristine harmonies of their three songwriters, Amelia Meath, Molly Sarlé, and Alex Sauser-Monnig. While I liked that band fine back then, their subsequent solo careers have been much more interesting: Meath fronts Sylvan Esso, Sarlé put out a good LP under her own name in 2019, and Sauser-Monnig started a band called Daughter of Swords (not to mention a 2022 collaborative full-length with Meath as The A’s). Alex, the sophomore effort from Daughter of Swords, is leaps and bounds my favorite full-length in the Mountain Man musical universe. Here, Sauser-Monnig is at their most playful, writing kinetic, off-kilter, and thrilling pop tunes that evoke the Talking Heads, Finom, and Sheryl Crow in inventive ways. As a lyricist, Sauser-Monnig is conversational and perceptive, able to add biting satire into a bubbly pop tune like “Money Hits.” Songs like “Strange” have an undeniable groove and “Hard On” is just a blast. There are moments where it feels like it’s funneling 2000s adult contemporary through the end of the world, finding the warped, frazzled edges.
Eliza Niemi, Progress Bakery
When Eliza Niemi started writing her sophomore album, she was subletting an apartment down the street from a cafe called Progress Bakery. The sign outside was half-fallen off, reading as ‘Gress Bakery,’ which delighted the Toronto songwriter and cellist so much she named the LP after it. Over 15 tracks that cover a lean 35 minutes, Niemi packs in wry jokes, meticulously detailed lyrical descriptions (“Put on my Tampax-pearl-blue shirt (iridescent),” she sings on “DM BF”), and relaxed yet lush arrangements. While there are standout songs like the groovy and patient “Dusty” as well as the acoustic opener “Do U FM?,” this is an immersive LP that’s best experienced as a whole. It’s remarkably eclectic: there are cello-led interludes like “PM Basement” and DIY-punk detours like “Wildcat.” Few new songwriters are as clever and full of heart as Niemi, who on Progress Bakery captures the feeling of thinking up something profound and funny over a morning coffee.
Lifeguard, Ripped and Torn
Alongside acts like Friko, Horsegirl, and Free Range, Lifeguard has led the charge of Chicago’s youth indie rock scene. The trio of Kai Slater (whose other band is Sharp Pins), Asher Case, and Isaac Lowenstein formed as freshmen in high school (in 2019) and make raucous, squall-heavy art-rock that boasts clanging riffs and dual-lead vocals from Slater and Case. After a string of EPs released on Chicago label Born Yesterday Records and now Matador, their full-length debut keeps the band’s unpredictable edge while leaning into anthemic hooks and inviting melodies. It’s a winning combo throughout Ripped and Torn, which was produced by No Age’s Randy Randall and features a crate-diggers’ worth of references ranging from This Heat to Rites of Spring and Swell Maps. There’s a palpable griminess to songs like “How to Say Deisar,” while “It Will Get Worse” threads the needle between power-pop and punk with ample urgency. Though the LP is a wild ride from start to finish, it’s just as commendable how the members of Lifeguard have built a thriving local community of zines, house shows, and tangible excitement for outre music.
Pry, Wrapped in Plastic
Brooklyn duo Pry thrives on extremes. In any given song on their explosive debut, Wrapped in Plastic, they oscillate from muted, subdued haze to soaring and frantic guitar atmospherics. Members Amara Bush and Simeon Beardsley trade lead vocal duties throughout what’s one of the better shoegaze-adjacent albums of 2025. “Tether You” is roaringly confrontational, while the sparkling opener “Heaven” is doused in fluttering synths before it careens into an intense, zipping guitar solo. The title track bursts with a staggering loud wall-of-feedback before unfolding into something undeniably pretty as Bush sings the chorus. It’s dynamic, visceral, and meant to be blasted as loud as possible.
Sam Blasucci, ALL BLUE
Sam Blasucci’s career has taken a lot of left turns. Early on, the California songwriter was known for singing Grateful Dead tunes with the excellent cover band Grateful Shred and conjuring up blissful Americana harmonies as one-half of Mapache. Lately, his solo efforts have veered into tasteful and sophisticated piano-led pop. His 2023 debut, Off My Stars, boasted earnest and transcendent covers of The Cranberries and Dido, while 2024’s Real Life Thing traversed glam-rock and Prince-inspired pop. ALL BLUE, Blasucci’s latest, might be understated, but it’s his most cohesive and masterful effort yet. Every song is impenetrably sturdy and effortlessly accessible, anchored by his fantastic and airy croon. Songs like “DON’T SPEAK” bounce with a trudging bassline while “NIITAKA PEAR” hits twilit bliss thanks to gorgeous co-vocals from guest Laena Myers. While the tracklist excels on midtempo stunners, tracks like “PASSIONATELY BAD” add flirtatious energy and pace. Blasucci might have my favorite voice in rock’n’roll right now, and I can’t wait to see where he goes next.
What I listened to:
The No Expectations 111 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal
1. Resavoir and Matt Gold, "Diversey Beach" (feat. Mei Semones)
2. Eliza Niemi, "Dusty"
3. Greg Freeman, "Curtain"
4. Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band, "Monte Carlo / No Limits"
5. Winter McQuinn, Feign Jima, Dylan Young, "Walkin' Through That Door"
6. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, "Sea of Doubt"
7. Daughter of Swords, "Hard On"
8. Water From Your Eyes, "Life Signs"
9. Dari Bay, "The Joke"
10. Pry, "Tether You"
11. Lifeguard, "Ripped + Torn"
12. The Bug Club, "How to Be a Confidante"
13. Sam Blasucci, "DON'T SPEAK"
14. Sister., "Honey"
15. Cass McCombs, "Peace"
Gig recap: Florry, Lily Seabird, Glass-Beagle at Schubas (6/12)
Listen, I wrote about both Florry and Lily Seabird in the recent midyear roundup. I love these bands so much, and I had a blast at Schubas. Seabird brought along a new lineup featuring guitarist Eric Soszynski, keyboardist Sam Atallah (he plays on Greg Freeman’s latest single “Curtain”), and Florry’s rhythm section. Out of over a dozen times seeing her play, this was her best live iteration yet. Florry’s set solidified them as the best rowdy bar band in America. Chicago’s Glass-Beagle opened things up with another stellar set of riff-heavy, countryfied rock, which makes me so stoked for whenever they cut a full-length album.
Gig recap: The Bug Club, Omni at Empty Bottle (6/17)
As you read above, I’m a big fan of the Bug Club. I’ve written about them a ton, but I’ve never seen them live. Every time I talk to a fellow head, they always tell me to catch one of their shows as soon as possible. Well, I’m so glad I did because their frantic energy, lovable charm, and impeccably crafted slacker-pop tunes translate perfectly in person. They also played for well over an hour and must’ve torn through at least 20 tracks.
Plus, one of my favorite post-punk bands, Atlanta’s Omni, made for a ripping opening set, too. Last year, I read frontman Philip Frobos’ novel Vague Enough to Satisfy, which was a relatable and breezy dose of tour and twenties-related malaise that transported me to the few times in my early twenties I hopped in the van with my friends. Another perfect night at the Empty Bottle.
What I watched:
Ken Burns: Jazz (PBS Passport)
I know I work for WTTW News (PBS Chicago), but I’ve been a fan of Ken Burns’ gargantuan and meditative documentaries long before I was employed in public media. Over the past week or two, I binged through Burns’ 19-hour, 2001 miniseries Jazz, which was excellent and comprehensive. The true star is trumpeter Wynton Marsalis, who appears in every episode as a passionate, eloquent, and engaging talking head. He ties up disparate threads, is an encyclopedia of knowledge, and an obvious figure to guide viewers through these musical movements.
In episode 8, Marsalis sums up an important part of what it means to love music. “When an art form is created, the question is how do you come to it, not how does it come to you,” he said. “Like, Beethoven’s music is not going to come to you. Picasso’s art won’t come to you, nor Shakespeare's. You have to go to it. And when you go to it, you get the benefits of it.” Searching for great art, learning about it, and experiencing it is work, but it’s enormously rewarding.
My only qualm with the series is that the first nine episodes cover everything up until 1961, and the shorter finale tracks the genre from ‘61 to 2001. Certain two-hour episodes in this series could expertly home in on a two-year timespan, and there’s no way to cram multiple decades of music into one 100-minute finale without feeling rushed. Still, it’s essential viewing from an allimer filmmaker.
What I read:
The Red Arrow (by William Brewer)
This might be my favorite new-to-me novel I’ve read all year. William Brewer crams so many fascinating ideas on writing, mental health, quantum physics, psychedlic mushrooms as therapy, and growing up in West Virginia into a relatively lean work of fiction, it’s staggering. With electric, disorientingly vivid prose, he somehow ties it all together. The book follows a writer who is deep in debt, a promising novelist who took a way too large advance for his debut and failed to turn in a draft. Now, he’s ghostwriting a memoir for a famous physicist to get out of his perilous financial hole with his publisher, but his subject has ghosted him. More than the narrative, which jumps back and forth in time with whirlwind ease, I found Brewer’s realistic depiction of depression, which he personifies as “The Mist,” as some of the most compelling and pummeling writing on the subject yet.
The Weekly Chicago Show Calendar:
The gig calendar lives on the WTTW News website now. You can also subscribe to the newsletter I produce there called Daily Chicagoan to get it in your inbox a day early.