THE THERMALS, “RETURNING TO THE FOLD”

THE THERMALS, “RETURNING TO THE FOLD”

decisions today, and listening to The Thermals’ “Returning To The Fold” feels as urgent and present as when the song was released. Hutch Harris’ lyrics twist in knots over blind faith and deception, with lines like “I regret leaving my soul/I forgot I needed it to feel” and “But I still have faith/If I ever had faith/Wait for me, wait for me” tracing the deep divide between the narrator’s beliefs and the reality he’s in. The track, a brief aside from the album’s story of escaping a fascist faux-Christian America, sounds like a blueprint that garage rock’s been building off over the past fifteen years: pulsing rhythm guitar, cymbal-heavy drums, and soaring, half-shouted vocals draped over top. It’s well worth a revisit, for the compassion and verve that The Thermals bring to their music and for the all-too-relevant commentary it contains.

Want to hear us talk about this song? Check out episode #100 of our podcast at hlycrp.com.

DEFAULT AMERICAN, “THE LIFE OF ME”

DEFAULT AMERICAN, “THE LIFE OF ME”

The faint hum of feedback bookends Default American’s “The Life Of Me,” an unanswered sound that’s there if you’re looking for it throughout the song. It’s an apt metaphor for a song about addiction: the hum is ever-present, and ready to either take over or fade into the background at a moment’s notice. The track charts a similarly twisty road to recovery, as lyrics describe leaving rehab and feeling that “the thought of being sober was one I could not afford.” Default American builds the back-and-forth over acoustic strums and full band crescendos, lucidly tracking the pressures that lead to dependence and the tumult of trying to get clean.

Want to hear us talk about this song? Check out episode #100 of our podcast at hlycrp.com.

Here it: https://defaultamerican.bandcamp.com/album/the-life-of-me-single

LA PALMA, “OHIO”

LA PALMA, “OHIO”

La Palma’s “Ohio” finds intimacy in earnest, contemplative lyrics over lo-fi acoustic picks and strums. The best bedroom pop feels like gazing into a jewel box the artist created, and Chris Walker’s lyrics walk the line between sentiment and sentimentality with ease. As the song considers the simple desire to see a loved one before declaring “I know we’ll be okay,” the track blossoms into a fragile finger-picked bridge, with the repeated refrain “Ohayo gozaimasu/Old Ohio is gone” carrying us into silence. It’s a gorgeous exit to a reassuring song in this time of uncertainty and disconnect.

Want to hear us talk about this song? Check out episode #100 of our podcast at hlycrp.com.

Hear it: https://lapalmamusic.bandcamp.com/track/ohio