No Expectations 100

What I've learned from writing weekly music newsletters since December 2022. Plus, five new LPs worth your time.

Mar 06, 2025

a close up of a wall with a lot of bubbles on it — Photo by Milin John on Unsplash

No Expectations hits inboxes on Thursdays at 9am cst. Reader mailbag email: Noexpectationsnewsletter@gmail.com. The newsletter I produce at my day job with WTTW News (PBS Chicago) can be found here.

Thanks for being here and letting me take a short break from the newsletter last Thursday. I’ll blame the absence on several things: a family member was in the hospital (it’s all good now), I had a busier than expected workload at the day job (it honestly ended up being no big deal), and I wasn’t thrilled with the new releases that came out that week (to be honest, I probably just didn’t listen enough). Sometimes it takes some extra digging to find the truly worthwhile albums, especially early in the year. Because of that, I’d rather hold off on publishing just to publish so I can spend time finding the true standouts.

In the last newsletter, I wrote that I probably wouldn’t do anything major to mark that it’s No Expectations 100 (counting bonus newsletters, mid-year, and EOY roundups, the 100th newsletter happened quite a bit ago). That’s still true! Still, I thought it’d be nice to take a step back and reflect on the last nearly two and a half years of publishing this weekly music and culture blog. I promise it’s not as self-indulgent as that sounds. Below that essay, you’ll also find some great albums in the “What I listened to” section. Don’t sleep on that Echolalia LP.

If you’re new to No Expectations, here’s a short explainer of what you signed up for. Each week, you get a wildcard main essay, a new 15-song playlist, as well as updates on what I’m listening to, watching, and reading. 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 weekly roundup of upcoming local shows to check out.

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 scrappy writing project.

No Expectations After 100+ Newsletters

Over the past few days, I’ve drafted and deleted at least four versions of this essay looking back at writing 100+ newsletters here. While I love reading “Writing About Writing” from other writers, actually writing about writing makes me want to barf. When others do it, it’s illuminating and bravely pulls back the curtain on the creative process and work. When I try it out, I find it corny and self-congratulatory. Despite the voice in my head yelling “Who cares? Get to the indie rock,” being earnest and reflective isn’t a bad thing. Starting No Expectations in December 2022 was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. It allowed me to fall in love with writing for fun again, it helped me become a more voracious listener, and it even got me a full-time job (writing newsletters for WTTW News). The fact that it’s still growing and still seems to resonate is unbelievable to me but incredibly sick. Along with the great work so many others are doing on their own self-started newsletters and blogs, it’s clear there’s an audience that wants to discover excellent independent artists from people, not algorithms.

When I first thought to launch a newsletter in 2022, I was months removed from a gutting layoff at a job that promised to be the more stable alternative to a traditional journalism gig (it was definitely not). Writing about music had been my career since 2012, and I missed having an outlet to champion the bands I loved beyond the occasional freelance outlet. I had enough free time to write about 60 of my favorite LPs from that year. After publishing it, I hit 500 subscribers in the first 24 hours. With paid sign-ups, that one post netted me more money than any freelance assignment from a real publication in my decade of music journalism. I kept at it, publishing a newsletter each week, and I realized how rewarding it was to write on your terms, chase your interests freely, and add a weekly practice of writing. Now, No Expectations has around 6300 total subscribers with roughly 5% of those on the paid tier (which is not terrible for a newsletter without a paywall).

To have an idea go from “might as well try it and see what happens” to a years-long reader-supported project is validating, but it’s also taught me so much about writing, listening, and working. When I was freelancing or staffed at a music publication, there were so many artists that I’d wanted to write about but couldn’t due to time, shifting editorial strategies, or worries from higher-ups that a piece about an under-the-radar act wouldn’t get enough clicks. I was also sick of the discourse, writing about something just because people are talking about it online, and wanted to have a place where I could just write about whatever I was interested in. Launching No Expectations, I gave myself the freedom to do just that. The weekly schedule made me think deeper about what I wanted to cover. Instead of just “oh this sounds cool,” I was forced to think, “Why do I like this album? Is this actually interesting? How can I convince a total stranger it’s worth their time?” When I started writing about music, I wanted to channel the vibe of telling a friend why they’d like an artist. I found out about my favorite bands because someone I love or a writer I trust told me about them, not because it was fed to me on a streaming service.

Writing each week is a lot of work. As much as I’m prone to procrastination and idle time, I realized it’s impossible to keep up with this newsletter if I’m just idly scrolling on social media. Having a never-ending and recurring deadline made me actively seek out new music, new movies, new books, and new writing to stay creatively energized. Some weeks this work was the last thing I wanted to do, but more often, I found myself inspired by devouring so much great art. With generative AI and algorithms reaching an alarming ubiquity, actually searching out new music and exciting communities is far more rewarding than the digital convenience hawked by incurious snake oil salesmen. Like everything, it’s a balance. Sometimes I just want to kill some time on the internet or watch something mindless to unwind. Despite that, having a public outlet where I talk how I’m spending my time and the art I’m consuming has been good for me: both for my mental health and for not embarrassing myself in front of No Expectations’ readers.

Don’t get me wrong: This is just a music newsletter and it’s not that deep. If you’ve read the news, you’ll know that there are countless more important things to focus your attention on. That said, I know that immersing yourself in your local music community is an important and nourishing experience, supporting independent artists is always a good thing, thinking deeper about the art you love, and eschewing the soulless, dehumanizing tech and music industry forces that serve up slop is crucial, especially now. When a reader tells me that they’ve checked out a show or bought a record, when a band says they felt understood from a blurb, when a writer said they started their own thing after reading this newsletter or when a label worker says they signed an artist because they read about them on No Expectations, I realize that whatever self-defeating impulse I have to think that this project is inconsequential is wrong. The small things do matter. Being an earnest and loud champion of the art you love does make a difference.

Like a lot of my friends and maybe you too, I’ve been watching the Apple TV+ show Severance, which is basically a more artful Lost for the Email Job Generation. If you haven’t seen it, the central conceit is that in this fictional world there’s a neurological procedure that can sever your consciousness. You can go to work and your “innie” will be the one working instead. After your shift, your “outie” or, really, “you” can live your life without the emotional baggage and stress of work. One scene from this season has stayed with me. An “innie” character named Dylan G. has an opportunity to meet his real-life wife—the reasons are tough to get into without spoiling the show and ultimately not important for this newsletter. She explains to him that in the physical world, the “outie” Dylan “hasn’t quite found his thing yet.” He’s gone through a woodworking phase, he brewed craft beer in his garage, and is now taking scuba lessons but nothing’s stuck.

In that scene, “innie” Dylan takes this to mean that the IRL version of himself is a fuck-up. While that might be true—your mileage may vary—I still identified with that feeling of aimlessness, of throwing things against the wall and figuring out what sticks. But I don’t think what “outie” Dylan is going through is a sign of some failing. That journey, searching for something that truly resonates and inspires you, is pretty much what makes you human. I’m lucky that I arguably found my “thing” decades ago with music. It’s been the one constant in my life. What started as a childhood fascination with songs that sounded cool and made me feel good rippled out into a ceaseless curiosity about the world. I love it even more now but sometimes I still feel like I’m flailing around. The more I learn about music and the more I immerse myself in it, the more I realize how little I know and how much more there is to explore. To me, that’s exciting.

Thanks for sticking with No Expectations over the years. The kind, thoughtful, and curious people who generously support this project make me want to constantly improve and keep doing this project for as long as possible. Life is other people and I’m so thankful you’re opening these emails and reading. Your attention is not taken for granted. While times are uncertain and generally pretty scary, they can’t kill art or your passion for it as bad as things might get. I’m grateful that I get to write this thing and I’m excited for the next 100 newsletters.

What I listened to:

The No Expectations 100 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal

1. Laurie Torres, "Lisière"
2. Polite, "Analysis Paralysis"
3. Colin Miller, "Cadillac"
4. Free Range, "Storm"
5. Saya Gray, "EXHAUST THE TOPIC"
6. DARKSIDE, "S.N.C"
7. Eiko Ishibashi, "October"
8. Cici Arthur, "Damaged Goods"
9. Echolalia, "Never Cry"
10. Lily Seabird, "It was like you were coming to wake us back up"
11. Sunny War, "No One Calls Me Baby"
12. Super Infinity, "Fields of Plenty"
13. Hovvdy, "Shooting Star"
14. HORSEBATH, "In The Shade"
15. Jo Schornikow, "Upstream"

Cici Arthur, Way Through

Cici Arthur isn’t a person but a trio of the Canadian experimental and jazz musicians Joseph Shabason, Chris A. Cummings, and Thom Gill. Way Through is a calming and hypnotic collection of ornate and melancholic chamber pop songs. There are collaborations from vocalists Nicholas Krgovich and Dorothea Paas, drummer Phil Melanson (Andy Shauf) and a 30-piece orchestra led by Owen Pallett to combine for an LP with so many knotty and mesmerizing details that it demands a deep headphones listen.

Echolalia, Echolalia

Echolalia is a group of Nashville musicians who decamped to a studio in an ancient abbey on the U.K.’s Isle of Wight to record a wonderfully collaborative and exploratory album. “[Band founder] Jordan [Lehring] had this idea - the four songwriters would have three songs and we'd work together to make a record of it,” said Echolalia member Spencer Cullum (Rich Ruth, Miranda Lambert, Shrunken Elvis) in the press release. Songwriters Lehring, alongside Cullum, Andrew Combs, and Dominic Billett, all provide eclectic but cohesive songs that make Echolalia the sleeper album of the year so far. There are shades of Radiohead-inspired atmospherics, Nilsson pop-psychedelia, woozy Americana, and boisterous pub rock across these 12-tracks, and there’s not a dull moment throughout.

Laurie Torres, Après coup

Philip Sherburne, the great music critic and writer behind the essential newsletter Futurism Restated, wrote of Laurie Torres’ splendid new piano LP Après coup that it “offers precisely the kind of respite that’s needed when you just can’t stand doomscrolling anymore.” He’s absolutely right: the 11 tracks from Montreal composer are dreamlike, self-contained little worlds that you’d want to spend as much time in as possible. These patient and vibrant improvisational pieces will gently rewire your brain and allow you to take a step back and unclench. Complete with subtle synths and captivating field recording samples, it’s just beautiful stuff here.

Saya Gray, Saya

The adventurous and idiosyncratic pop that Saya Gray pulls off on her new LP Saya marks the Japanese-Canadian songwriter as one of the year’s most exciting genre collagists. She combines glitchy trip-hop, infectious alt-rock, contemplative folk, and hooky alt-pop throughout its 10 immaculate songs. My favorite moments include the explosive final third of “Exhaust the Topic” and the acoustic guitar riff that opens “Shell (of a Man).” It’s a genuinely delightful release that deserves the significant hype it’s already received. Full of charm, surprises, and observant lyrics that match Gray’s polymathic composing talent.

Sunny War, Armageddon In A Summer Dress

In 2023, I included Sunny War’s Anarchist Gospel in No Expectations Best Albums of 2023 writing that it boasted “a winning blend of roots, gospel, blues, and country that brings nearly apocalyptic stakes to the dissolution of a breakup.” Her follow-up Armageddon In A Summer Dress scraps some of the more obvious genre signifiers for something more kinetic that reflects her singular talent. Still, like her last LP, the new one thrives on collaborations including standout tracks that feature Valerie June and Tré Burt. Another true highlight is the undeniable closer “Debbie Downer.”

What I watched:

Nickel Boys

Despite some nonsense (the Emilia Perez wins, for one), the Oscars didn’t suck this year thanks to films like Flow, The Brutalist, No Other Land, Anora, and The Substance taking home awards. The most notable omission was a shutout for RaMell Ross’ gutwrenching, innovative, and jaw-dropping adaption of Colson Whitehead’s The Nickel Boys. Filmed from a first-person perspective, the novel camera-style and character-led POV never feels like a gimmick. Phenomenal direction, astounding acting, and essential storytelling. It might be the best movie of 2024.

What I read:

Naomi Klein, Doppelganger

There’s a Josh Terry who’s a self-styled TikTok philosopher and life coach. Another reviews movies in Utah. Don’t forget the Josh Terry, who’s a professional wrestler or the one who hosts a right-wing podcast. There’s even a guy with my name who manages bands like Mayday Parade and works in music. Besides a couple of cases of mistaken identity (One example: I got death threats meant for the movie reviewer—he gave the animated kids movie Sing a two out of four rating), I haven’t really been confused for the myriad other Josh Terrys around the world. This is not the case for Naomi Klein, the leftist writer behind No Logo and The Shock Doctrine, who has been oft-confused for the feminist-author-turned-right-wing-conspiracy theorist Naomi Wolf. Klein’s books have been incredibly formative for me—(yes, I picked up No Logo in high school because I heard Radiohead was inspired by it while writing Kid A). Her latest, Doppelganger, uses how people confuse her for Wolf as a way to enter the rabbit hole of online misinformation, conspiracies, and the era of unreality it feels like we’re living in. It’s fantastic and terrifying.

Omar El-Akkad, One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This

If you love your country but ignore its history and brush off its policies that cause harm, it’s not patriotism but idolatry. To protest and critique something is to love what it might become. Uncomfortable conversations and ugly truths are necessary to reckon with what it means to be alive in 2025. Novelist Omar El Akkad lucidly captures this sentiment in his sobering nonfiction debut One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This. Written during the war in Gaza, El Akkad grapples with his own history from being born in Egypt to being raised in Qatar to settling down in Canada and eventually Portland, Oregon and the destructrive, brutal actions of their respective governments. A needed and provocative perspective.

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 every Wednesday.