No Expectations 104: It Will Get Worse
New albums from Lily Seabird, Hataalii, and Will Johnson. Plus, gig reports on Astrid Sonne and Lucky Cloud as well as an essay on nurturing your interests in weird and chaotic times.
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: Lifeguard, “It Will Get Worse”
Thanks for being here. It’s been a solid week full of friends and live music. I’m getting back into a regular rhythm of going to shows again. It’s been a blast. While I can’t hit my totals of four or five gigs in a week like I could in my early twenties, every time I’m at a venue is still the most fun thing I can do for myself. I’m so grateful to live in a city like Chicago with its packed gig calendars and dozens of independent venues.
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 (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.
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.
Curiosity Is a Lifeline
As part of my day job running Daily Chicagoan, the local journalism newsletter for PBS Chicago (WTTW News), I write a regular history feature called “Back in the Day.” It’s a short, sub-200-word blurb about a weird or notable thing from the city’s past. I always have a great time compiling it because my home boasts so many off-the-beaten-path events and characters that make it such a vital part of America. That said, because 2020 was five years ago, many of the recent entries have been about the pandemic: here's when the first case hit Illinois, the day music venues and restaurants closed, and what happened after stay-at-home orders went into effect. It’s not a particularly fun time to look back on but it still so clearly informs what’s happening today. For more reasons than one, I’ve been thinking a lot about that year lately.
A half-decade later, we’re still living in weird and chaotic times. Even without an infectious and deadly disease threatening the entire globe, there’s still a sense that massive upheaval is just around the corner. That anxiety makes it difficult to focus, take care of yourself, and allow yourself the joy of nurturing your interests. In March 2020, I worked for VICE where I covered under-the-radar acts for their music vertical. When things started shutting down and it became clear that COVID-19 was a world-altering pandemic, I’d joke, “I can’t believe I have to go write about indie rock tomorrow.” Instead of covering new music because album cycles were all delayed, my gig pivoted to reporting on the lasting effects this pandemic would have on working musicians, independent venues, and the entire industry.
It was exhausting and depressing work. I’d constantly talk to folks who lost their livelihoods and hear from epidemiologists about all that would need to happen for live music to return. While I was lucky that I had a job, could shelter in place with my girlfriend, and didn’t lose any immediate family members to the virus, it was still an awful first few months. My worries about the state of the world and that I’d lose my writing gig made me throw myself into the work, which only led to burnout. The burnout then became a string of noxious and irritable moods which ballooned into losing my passion for the things I loved most. Without my social circle and going to regular shows, I didn’t seek out new music and my reading habits fell off. Early on, I just drank beer and watched Frasier and King of the Hill reruns when I wasn’t on the clock.
Wallowing became boring. I wasn’t doing myself or my loved ones any favors by being perpetually bummed. It took a lot of walks, self-reflection, and skipping the tall boy four-packs for water and rest but eventually, the spark came back. Music sounded great again, I picked up a book, watched more stimulating things than admittedly great sitcoms, and decided to be more intentional about how I spent my time. What else was there to do? I realized that neglecting my curiosity and interests because of horrific forces outside of my control was self-defeating and only led to further despair. Rediscovering what made me who I am helped me feel more like myself. It was hard work to get over that hump but all good things take effort.
I don’t need to explain the many ways that being alive in this particular moment in history is stressful and uncertain. You can just open your phone to either one news outlet or social media platform for that. This is why not just having but maintaining and nurturing your curiosity and interests are so important. When you live in overwhelming times, the things that are bigger than you and make you feel alive are what will get you through them. It’s definitely a balance: I am not saying that the solution to what ails us is to burrow into your hobbies, make art, and ignore the outside world. People can hold two thoughts at the same time. They can be an informed citizen and a curious patron of the arts with passions that give them meaning and fulfillment. It’s not an either/or. In fact, you can’t have one without the other.
This week Will Leitch, in his essential newsletter, talked about his love for film and my favorite Roger Ebert quote. "Movies are a central driver of how I see the world; Roger Ebert famously called movies ‘a machine that generates empathy,’ and that’s how I’ve always approached them," he says. "They’re a way to escape, sure, but they’re also a way to be transported: An opportunity to see the world through someone else’s eyes, to visit a place you’d never be able to go otherwise, to learn about a life outside your own … and maybe learn a little bit about yourself along the way." Music has been that for me. It’s not just fodder for a career writing about it but it’s the starting point for most of my long-term friendships, interviewing artists from all walks of life has made me a more thoughtful and understanding person, and going to shows constantly has made me kinder, more open to new experiences, and grounded as a person. Hearing a great lyric can not only be an affirmation of your own life, it can change your perspective and add grace. Discovering a record you’ve never heard before that’s unlike anything you’ve heard can reorient your brain.
I bring up music because this is an indie rock newsletter but obviously, your thing doesn’t have to be going to shows, supporting independent artists, and discovering cool new records. It can be anything! You probably have a multitude of interests like I do like film, literature, history, and sports. Hell, even a great sandwich has turned things around for me at certain points in my life. What’s important in hard times is not succumbing to doom-scrolling and nihilism. You can keep your righteous outrage and still find the things that make you feel like yourself. Once you do that, nurture it and share that joy with other people. It’ll sometimes feel daunting but you have to live.
What I listened to:
The No Expectations 104 Playlist: Apple Music // Spotify // Tidal
1. Paper Castles, "Content Creator"
2. Lifeguard, "It Will Get Worse"
3. Home Is Where, "migration patterns"
4. Glass-Beagle, "Train Song"
5. Mei Semones, "Zarigani"
6. Lily Seabird, "Arrow"
7. Carmen Perry, "Readjust"
8. Blue Cactus, "Bite My Tongue" (feat. Brit Taylor)
9. Esther Rose, "The Clown"
10. Will Johnson, "All Dragged Out"
11. Uwade, "Harmattan"
12. Toledo, "Tall Kids"
13. Hotline TNT, "Julia's War"
14. Bnny, "By My Side"
15. Resavoir, Matt Gold, "Canopy“
Lily Seabird, Trash Mountain
Soon after I started No Expectations in 2022, I wrote about several Burlington, Vermont-based artists like Greg Freeman, Lily Seabird, Dari Bay, and Robber Robber. Alongside North Carolina and Chicago, that city is home to one of the most exciting indie rock scenes in the nation. I’ve gotten to know these musicians through this newsletter and through hosting them when they play shows in Chicago. They’re great folks and witnessing their artistic growth has been such a joy. They’ve exposed me to so much great music written by their Burlington peers and tourmates (which I’ve written about extensively here) that it’s funny I’ve never stepped foot in Vermont. Since my first blurb on Lily Seabird, she’s released two phenomenal LPs 2024’s Alas, and Trash Mountain, her most confident effort to date which came out on Friday. The title of the LP refers to a compound of apartments near a decommissioned landfill where she lives with other musicians and creatives. Written mostly while on tour or coming home from extensive time on the road, the songs have a big-hearted warmth and deal with finding home, connection, and belonging amid life’s chaos. Where her earlier efforts came together over the course of a full year, Seabird knocked this one out in just a few months. It’s a testament to an artist trusting their gut and coming out with their best work yet. I’m so proud of her. You’re going to love it.
Will Johnson, Diamond City
Will Johnson is a songwriter’s songwriter who’s spent decades melding indie rock and Americana with the influential southern rock band Centro-Matic and through his own solo recordings. (Not to omit his many other projects including South San Gabriel, a collaborative LP with the late Jason Molina, bands with Friend of the Newsletter David Bazan, and his current work touring with Jason Isbell’s 400 Unit). His catalog is diverse but consistently thoughtful and excellent but his 10th solo effort Diamond City marks a late-career renaissance. These nine laid back and gorgeous tunes were repurposed four-track demos recorded at Johnson’s home studio that mixing engineer Britton Beisenherz brought to life at his Ramble Creek studio. The palette here is simultaneously lived-in and lush with Johnson’s evocative lyrics and weary voice taking center stage above subtly fuzzy guitars and steady drum machine clicks. “All Dragged Out” and “Sylvarena” highlight the way Johnson can write an effortlessly substantial hook while the haunting title track and the pastoral instrumental closer are a document of his masterful atmospherics. This is patient music from a songwriter at his best. While immediately impressive, it demands close listening and repeat plays.
Hataałii, I’ll Be Around
The Arizona-raised Navajo songwriter Hataałii (hah-toth-lee) has been a newsletter favorite since 2023 when he released a fascinating and beguiling record called Singing Into Darkness. His excellent follow-up Waiting For a Sign also made the No Expectations 2024 EOY list where I wrote, “The 21-year-old crooner and songwriter is an unorthodox frontman: his baritone warbles meander and twist dramatically around these hazy songs. As a writer, he's somewhere between impressionistic and resolutely direct.” Now 22, he signed to a new label in Panther Mountain and has another beautiful and brooding collection with I’ll Be Around. It’s full of ornate, eerie Americana that soars on his dynamic and unpredictable voice. Songs like “Someone Else Has My Baby” thrive on heartbroken twang, the ramshackle rhythm that anchors “Let It Roll” eventually dissipates into elegiac beauty, and earnestness becomes euphoria on “When She Looks At Me.” Its stunning and mysterious songs wouldn’t feel out of place at the Twin Peaks Roadhouse bar.
Gig report: Astrid Sonne, Samba Jean-Baptiste at Empty Bottle (4/2)
Great Doubt from the London-based Danish artist, violist, and composer Astrid Sonne was one of 2024’s top five albums but I had to miss her the last time she was touring in Chicago. Last November, I bought tickets to her April Empty Bottle show and it’s been my most anticipated gig for the last five months. Instead of a full band, Sonne tours with cellist Emma Barnaby. The interplay between the two was stunning. Songs from the sub-30-minute Great Doubt benefited from extended string-based intros, elongated grooves, and glitchy sampler surprises. She transformed her material into something more mesmerizing and more danceable in concert.
Gig report: Lucky Cloud, Lake J at Schubas (4/5)
Whenever I recommend a record in this newsletter, it’ll always be an LP that gets my full-throated, unqualified endorsement. If an album is just fine, like most of them, I won’t cover it. Even with that high standard, sometimes seeing a band live makes me realize I undersold them in my review. This happened watching Chet Zenor’s songwriting project Lucky Cloud play his new album Foreground at Schubas last Saturday. It proved that a full-length I really liked is actually one of the year’s unequivocal bests. Though I’ve seen Zenor’s band play a few times, they were especially tight that night and the songs opened up to me in new and thrilling ways. Special shoutout to Friend of the Newsletter Cadien Lake James who performed a modular-synth and keys set featuring his Lake J songs that compiled one of last year’s favorites Dizzy.
What I watched:
Eyes on the Prize (streamed on Max)
A couple of months ago, the civil rights documentary series Eyes on the Prize III: We Who Believe in Freedom Cannot Rest 1977-2015 premiered on Max. The trailer looked excellent but I hadn’t seen the first two installments, which first aired on PBS in 1987 and then later 1990. Using a wealth of archival footage, interviews with the leaders, activists, and villains of the time, and a masterful sense of storytelling, the first season details the American Civil Rights Movement from 1954 to 1965 with unflinching thoroughness. Even if you’re already familiar with the history of the struggle, seeing it all laid out on film makes for an enraging watch. The pathetic violence and soulless brutality of the segregationists and their evil institutions are horrific as well as the vulgar rationalizations for their behavior. (That so many agreed to be interviewed decades later and seemed proud of their actions is infuriating). Still, seeing stories of solidarity, resilience, dogged organization, and a firm commitment to doing the right thing and fighting for freedom makes this hopeful. It’s these activists who embody the best of America. This is recent history. My parents were alive then and yours probably were too. A must-watch.
What I read:
American Bulk (by Emily Mester)
Every year after I post the annual No Expectations Best Of List, I take a few weeks off to rest and recharge from the newsletter. It’s always needed but the only drawback is that I don’t have a chance to write in real time about what I’m reading, watching, and listening to. So, because I’m still in the middle of a longer book this week, I’ll highlight the best thing I read over the holiday break: Emily Mester’s uproarious and perceptive essay collection American Bulk, which excavates consumeristic excess with wit, heart, and undeniably funny prose. This wide-ranging, autobiographical book jumps from Iowa to suburban Chicago to South Carolina, taking pointed shots and odes to Whole Foods, Costco, boarding school, Amazon Prime, and Ulta. Few books are laugh-out-loud funny but this is. Mester’s a brilliant stylist who thrives when she’s at her most personal, detailing her familial proclivity for hoarding and the generational traumas that led to an insatiable need for more things. It’s relentlessly human and hilarious. I’ll read anything Mester writes in the future.
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'm so excited about that Lifeguard single.
Beautiful essay, Josh! And I’ve got some music to catch up on, too.