No Expectations 147: Chevy
Three nights of Twin Peaks’ reunion residency at Chicago’s Thalia Hall. Plus, three recommended releases from Age of Peace, Cola, and Trinity Ace.
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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.
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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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, Adam Offitzer, 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.
Lerner is a magician. His books are chock-full of surprise--the only reason to read a novel, in the end.