Burn Your Hits: Tony Schoenberg

I recently listened, for the first time in literally 45 years, to the rock album Alive II by KISS. There was a time in my life (between ages 8 and 10) when I believed KISS was the greatest rock band on earth, the only one whose existence mattered. There were times a bit later in life when, during those exceedingly rare moments when I thought about KISS, I brushed them off as loathsome peddlers of schlock who were maybe the worst band in the history of rock music (that would have been in my 20s). Now, substantially older and less prone to sweeping pronouncements, I feel comfortable saying that KISS was neither the best rock band ever (I know, I’m really going out on a limb there), nor the worst band ever. What it most definitely was – at least during its initial burst of fame in the mid 1970s – was a band of its time.

This was confirmed by my recent relistening to Alive II, the album I exalted above all others during my childhood love affair with KISS. Alive II is, first and foremost, a live album, that most 1970s of things. Second, it is a double album, another 1970s relic. And the music is the kind of arena-ready hard rock, full of cartoonish sexual bravado and swagger, that was rampant in the 1970s and that now sounds ridiculous, if not offensive. And, lest we forget, they wore makeup and costumes and had comic book personas! But if you can put aside the childishness of it all, KISS in the mid-1970s was a pretty darn good hard rock band, with catchy rock hooks, strong musicianship, great energy, and more New York Dolls influence in their sound than you might expect. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that my musical sensibilities as a child weren’t as terrible as I had feared. (Either that or my childhood infatuation with the band has reasserted itself on my middle-aged psyche and blinded me to reality.)

Which brings me back to this list. For at least a decade now, music writers have been proclaiming the death of the album. They make these proclamations despite the fact that rock and pop artists still release new albums every single day. Those same music writers, every single year, put out lists of the year’s best albums. Ergo, it is factually false that the album is dead, and writers who say as much are engaged in a form of cognitive dissonance. While it is undoubtedly true that what the album is and what it signifies as a cultural and musical concept has changed quite dramatically, albums are certainly not dead.

Good for me, because I have always been, first and foremost, a consumer of albums. As a child and teenager, I bought only albums, never singles. And even in today’s streaming world, I almost always listen to entire albums. In fact, my prior guest lists often read like album reviews. So this year, rather than list my favorite songs of the year, I’m listing my favorite albums. In no particular order:

Sharp Pins, Balloon, Balloon, Balloon: Sharp Pins was one of my favorite discoveries this year. Writers tend to compare the band (which is really the project of one Kai Slater, who somehow is only 21 years old) to Guided By Voices, and no doubt that influence is very apparent on some of their songs (even more so on its 2023 album, Turtle Rock). The bigger influence here, however, is the Beatles. What’s cool to me is that Sharp Pins takes its cues not (like many previous indie bands) from the power pop and psychedelia of the Revolver-Sgt. Pepper’s-era Beatles but, rather, from the straight-up Beatlemania sounds of a few years earlier. Indeed, some songs on this album sound like they could have been outtakes from With the Beatles or A Hard Day’s Night. And Mr. Slater nails it. His reinvention of British Invasion songcraft and style is nothing less than breathtaking.

Sharp Pins, Radio DDR: Same as above, but I also hear other influences on this album, particularly Big Star. Which is a very good thing.

Horsegirl, Phonetics On and On: I totally dug how this band sounded with big distorted guitars on Versions of Modern Performance, but I think I enjoy the clean-guitar sound on this album even more. If anything, it does more to illuminate their great vocal interplay. To me, it sounds like an evolution, and a very good one at that. On the other hand, it throws a serious wrench into my theory that the 1990s indie band they most resemble is Black Tambourine. But that’s a small price to pay for a great album. Especially one with a killer lead off track (“Where’d You Go?”).

Geese, Getting Killed: This is the album that made everyone lose their shit in 2025, and for good reason. It’s seriously dope. I find it difficult to pinpoint exactly what is so compelling about this album. Clearly, Cameron Winter’s singular vocals have a lot to do with it. But his vocals were singular on prior Geese albums, yet those albums were not this compelling. I’m going to quote what my brother said to me about the album, because it’s as good an explanation as any: “It’s like my subconscious has been recorded. How did they do that?”

Snocaps, Snocaps: Hurray for supergroups! They’re all the rage again. But unlike the bloated garbage otherwise known as the supergroups of the 1960s and 1970s and 1980s and 1990s, supergroups in the 2020s are awesome. I tend to like the poppier Allison songs a bit more than the twangier Katie songs, but having them together in one band (with gorgeous MJ Lenderman guitar work) elevates both.

Greg Freeman, Burnover: Another great discovery for me in 2025 was this guy, Greg Freeman. He’s based in Burlington, the largest city in Vermont. The population of Burlington as of the 2020 census was 44,743. The city’s most famous exports are Bernie Sanders (who was mayor in the 1980s), Ben & Jerry’s, and Phish. I’m not sure why I mention those things, other than that it may explain the rusted-out small town feel evoked by Freeman’s slightly twangy, guitar-forward indie rock songs. Maybe it’s also why he sounds to me like some weird melange of the Meat Puppets, Wilco and Neil Young, artists with origins in Tempe, Belleville and Winnipeg – places that, like Burlington, you would never confuse with New York or Los Angeles. But never mind that – this guy’s a first-rate songwriter, and his lyrics are as good as his hooks.

Wednesday, Bleeds: On my guest list two years ago, I said the following about Wednesday: “I didn’t love their 2023 album Rat Saw God as much as everyone else on earth, which I think is because I find Karly Hartzman's vocals a bit off-putting, which is compounded by the fact that they are buried so low in the mix that they are sometimes hard to hear (which is no doubt a deliberate aesthetic choice).” I’m pleased to report that Wednesday read my 2023 guest list and took my advice. Because, on Bleeds, Hartzman’s vocals are not only higher in the mix, but she’s clearly put work into her singing over the past two years. In fact, her singing is downright great here. I think this is Wednesday’s best album to date. While the sound is still rooted in distorted guitars and 1990s indie rock aesthetics, there’s more sonic and stylistic variety than on prior releases, and it totally works. I thought the last album was very good; I think this one is great. It also has the funniest couplet I’ve heard in a song in a long time: “We watched a Phish concert and Human Centipede / Two things I now wish I had never seen.”

Tony Molina, On This Day: If you’re the kind of person who would enjoy spending 23 minutes of your life listening to 21 beautiful and fleeting songs that channel the most gorgeous and lyrical pop, rock and folk music of the 1960s, then this album is for you.

Thursday, December 19, 2024

GL.24.08: Tony Schoenberg

100 Songs: Aaron Bergstrom

GL.24.01: Ilana Bergstrom

GL.24.02: Isabel Vermaak

GL.24.03: Megan Swidler

GL.24.04: Curt Trnka

GL.24.05: Erik Kristjanson

GL.24.06: Caseysimone Ballestas

GL.24.07: Nora Tang

GL.24.08: TONY SCHOENBERG

GL.24.09: Ben Evangelista

GL.24.10: Kevin Wyckoff

GL.24.11: Jem Stirling

GL.24.12: Dillon North

***

2024 Song List

In no particular order:

The Hard Quartet - “Rio’s Song” and “Our Hometown Boy”

I’d like to personally thank boygenius for making supergroups cool again. And with that, I’d like to talk about The Hard Quartet, a band whose Wikipedia page begins, “The Hard Quartet is an indie rock supergroup formed in May 2023.” The members of The Hard Quartet are Stephen Malkmus, Matt Sweeney, Jim White, and Emmett Kelly. We all know who Stephen Malkmus is. But if you’re like me, you probably don’t know the others. As it turns out, their indie rock bona fides are formidable. Matt Sweeney has collaborated with Billy Corgan (in another “supergroup,” Zwan), Dave Grohl, Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Cat Power, Johnny Cash, Josh Homme, Andrew W.K. and The Chicks, and he made his name in the 1990s fronting Chavez, a band I fondly recall from its excellent contribution to the Schoolhouse Rock! Rocks album. Kelly has collaborated with Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Angel Olsen and Ty Segall and is the leader of The Cairo Gang, as well as being the founder or co-founder of an absurd number of other more obscure bands. Last but not least, Jim White is the longtime drummer of The Dirty Three and has collaborated with the likes of PJ Harvey, Courtney Barnett, Kurt Vile, Bonnie “Prince” Billy and Smog. In other words, these are serious musicians who have had long, varied and successful careers, even if they are not household names.

And it turns out that’s important. While I worship at the altar of Stephen Malkmus and love many of his songs on The Hard Quartet’s album (and a good two thirds of the songs are his), the album’s highlights for me are by Sweeney and Kelly. Sweeney’s “Rio’s Song” is a gorgeous indie rock tune filled with catchy hooks, poetic lyrics (in tribute to the late actor Rio Hackford), infectious guitar parts – there are three amazing guitarists in this band! - and killer drums (Jim White is sort of like an indie rock Neil Peart). And Kelly’s “Our Hometown Boy” is nothing less than the greatest Byrds song of all time.

MJ Lenderman “On My Knees”

I suppose it was predictable that my favorite albums of 2024 would include two by 1990s guitar-centric indie rockers (The Hard Quartet and Grandaddy) and another by a young artist who is heavily influenced by 1990s guitar-centric indie rockers (MJ Lenderman). 1990s guitar-centric indie rock is my musical comfort food, and I nearly always read that part of the menu first. But, whatevs, Lenderman is a friggin great songwriter and guitarist, a fact that at this point has been acknowledged by virtually every music publication on earth. The standout song for me on Lenderman’s excellent 2024 album, Manning Fireworks, is “On My Knees.” The song goes all-in on 1970s Neil Youngesque heavy guitar aesthetics (which, as far as aesthetic choices go, is tops in my book), accompanied by Lenderman’s characteristically funny and sad song-poetry.

Kendrick Lamar - “Luther”

In 2024, Kendrick Lamar reminded us, once again, of his indisputable greatness. In May, he had a massive hit with the insanely infectious diss track, “Not Like Us,” which eviscerated the hopelessly outgunned Drake. Then in November he dropped yet another great album on the world, the west coast tinged GNX. As usual, the album shows off Lamar’s mastery of all that he does. One of those things is to chill into a slow groove and seduce us with his strangely captivating monotone singing voice. Another is to build a track around a tasty and unexpected sample of an almost-forgotten song from a prior era. He does both things on this track, a sultry and soulful duet with SZA built around a sample of the Luther Vandross-Cheryl Lynn cover of the Marvin Gaye-Tammi Terrell song, “If This World Were Mine.” The song gets bonus points for its smart placement as the third track on GNX, providing a needed respite after the intensity and anger of “Wacced Out Murals” and “Squabble Up,” both of which were contenders for inclusion on this list.

Rosie Tucker - “Gil Scott Albatross”

And not just because of the amazing song title. This song rocks, something Rosie does a lot on their new album, – and it turns out that rocking is great for Rosie’s prolifically hook-filled tunes. The lyrics on this one are characteristically witty but with extra bite, leaning into their rage and despair at the current state of world affairs but answering it with the reassurance that love is the answer (as it always is).

Grandaddy - “Cabin In My Mind”

This song is like stepping into a warm bubble bath. And I fucking love warm bubble baths!

Bad Moves “Let the Rats Inherit The Earth”

I patiently waited four years for Bad Moves to release this album, and, boy, was it worth the wait. It has all the elements I fell in love with when I first heard the band in 2020 – overlapping boy-girl vocals; half-yelled choruses; catchy hooks; punky guitar; huge energy; and fierce political commitment in the face of an overwhelmingly fucked-up world. I could have picked any number of songs on the album, but I landed on this particular one because it encapsulates all of the aforementioned elements I love about the band. But, goddamnit kids, don’t make me wait another four years to hear the next one!

Vampire Weekend - “Ice Cream Piano”

They’re just showing off here. But who gives a fuck, it’s a spectacular opening track that earns the indulgence. If I were a music writer, I might say the song is the sound of a bacchanal on a runaway train hurling towards the void. And I might then say something like this: Whether the void in question is personal, political or something else, I don’t know. And I don’t care.

Billie Eilish - “The Diner”

One thing I love about the current state of pop music is that a massive pop star can write hit songs that remind me of Kurt Weill and Tom Waits.

Brittany Howard - “What Now”

The first definition that came up when I googled the word “powerhouse” is “a person or thing of great energy, strength, or power.” Brittany Howard’s 2024 album What Now is a powerhouse. When I first listened to it, I actually didn’t know that she had been the leader of Alabama Shakes (I know that seems implausible, but just take my word for it). Learning this fact blew my mind, because I never fully understood all the fuss about Alabama Shakes. This, however, is something else entirely, and I totally get the fuss around it. It’s an explosive and gorgeous piece of work, bursting at the seams with soul, rock, psychedelia, funk and probably a dozen other musical genres that my mind is too feeble to identify. It frequently sounds futuristic, but it has plenty of retro vibes to keep it grounded. And throughout, Brittany Howard’s vocals slay with enormous range and power. To top it off, the playing and production are top fucking notch. The title track is a particular standout, a straight up nasty dose of electric funk rock.

Thursday, December 28, 2023

GL.23.10: Tony Schoenberg

100 SONGS: Aaron Bergstrom

GL.23.01: Ilana Bergstrom

GL.23.02: Curt Trnka

GL.23.03: Marisa Plaice

GL.23.04: Isabel Vermaak

GL.23.05: Raffa Pantaleo

GL.23.06: Erik Kristjanson

GL.23.07: Lukas Brooks

GL.23.08: Jem Stirling

GL.23.09: Max Einstein

GL.23.10: TONY SCHOENBERG

GL.23.11: Gina Uriarte

GL.23.12: Ryan Joyce

GL.23.13: Desa Warner

***

As is my usual practice, I limited myself to one track per artist. Unlike in past years, I did not limit myself to ten songs. I included only songs released in 2023, with the exception of the Lana Del Rey tune, which was released in December 2022 but was the title track to a 2023 album. This is in no particular order.

The Tubs – “Wretched Lie”

Did you ever ask yourself the following question: What if the Smiths and early REM had a love child and put Paul Weller on vocals? Me too. Fortunately, we now know the answer. It would sound exactly like The Tubs. Which is to say, it would sound great. “Wretched Lie” is the final track on The Tubs’ 2023 debut album, and it’s the album’s highlight for me, an infectious piece of retro ear candy that sounds like it could have been excavated from the vaults of MTV’s 120 Minutes.

boygenius – “$20”

Several months ago, Aaron, Carl Anderson and I began an email discussion – which continues to this day – on the pressing question of which Beatles the members of boygenius represent within their band. That is to say, who is the John of the band, who is the Paul of the band, who is the George of the band … you get the idea. Aaron and Carl were somewhat insistent that Phoebe and Lucy had to be John and Paul (not necessarily in that order) based on their songwriting chops, and Julien must be George given that she is the standout guitarist in the band. But I could never get on board with that, mainly because several of my favorite songs on the record are Julien-penned, most notably the scorching opener, “$20.” How could I relegate her to the third-best songwriter when she’s writing my favorite songs? This email discussion now seems oddly prescient following boygenius’ recent appearance on SNL, in which they donned Beatles attire and used Beatles typeface on their drum kit. But that performance unfortunately did nothing to answer this weighty philosophical question, which remains unresolved to this day.

JPEGMAFIA + Danny Brown – “Orange Juice Jones”

I love hip hop that sounds unhinged and crazy. Ergo, I love Danny Brown. He found a kindred spirit in eccentric producer/rapper JPEGMAFIA, and this album may be Brown’s most frenzied effort to date (which is saying a lot). This particular track – whose name evokes 80s one-hit-wonder Oran “Juice” Jones - helps keep the album grounded (if that’s possible), as it’s a slower number built around a gorgeous sample of a mid-70s Michael Jackson tune called “Dear Michael.” The lyrics, however, are filled with characteristically far-out and disturbing imagery mostly revolving around bad drug trips (e.g., ”I can't feel my face off these narcotics”). Brown released yet another album a few weeks ago that purportedly is a more introspective and mature work in which he soberly reflects on his chequered and drug-fueled past. If that marks the end of the drug-addled journey that has been his body of work to date, thanks for the memories Danny! It’s been one helluva ride.

Lana Del Rey – “Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Blvd.”

I felt that Lana Del Rey perfected her unique brand of L.A. doomed romantic torch song poetry on Norman Fucking Rockwell. But the highlights on her latest album, Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Blvd, are the equal of anything on that album. I especially like the title track, a quintessential Lana Del Rey number in which she repeatedly tells her audience (presumably a real or imagined lover) “don’t forget me” before pleading with him (in the chorus, no less) to “Open me up, tell me you like it, Fuck me to death, love me until I love myself.” As usual, she stares straight into the abyss of anxious attachment and allows her pain to inhabit the very specific geography of Los Angeles. This track gets bonus points for turning me onto a gorgeous Harry Nillson heartbreaker called, “Don’t Forget Me,” which Del Rey explicitly name drops in the final verse.

Olivia Rodrigo – “bad idea right?”

How the hell is a 20-year-old former child actress on Disney shows this good? It boggles the mind. I could have picked four or five different songs from Guts for this list. I settled on “bad idea right?”, a super catchy rock song that’s really funny and totally relatable, even to a 53 year old man.

Water From Your Eyes – “Barley”

This is the only band I can think of other than Deerhoof that sounds avant-garde and experimental while simultaneously being accessible and catchy. The song “Barley” demonstrates this dichotomy. It’s a speeding cacophony of swirling sounds yet it’s oddly and undeniably tuneful.

Queens of the Stone Age – “Emotion Sickness”

Wikipedia offers this definition of “hard rock”: “Hard rock is a form of loud, aggressive rock music. The electric guitar is often emphasized, used with distortion and other effects, both as a rhythm instrument using repetitive riffs with a varying degree of complexity, and as a solo lead instrument. Drumming characteristically focuses on driving rhythms, strong bass drum and a backbeat on snare, sometimes using cymbals for emphasis. The bass guitar works in conjunction with the drums, occasionally playing riffs, but usually providing a backing for the rhythm and lead guitars. Vocals are often growling, raspy, or involve screaming or wailing, sometimes in a high range, or even falsetto voice.” I sometimes wonder if Josh Homme sold his soul to the devil at the crossroads, because he seems to be the first human to have cracked the code on how to create smart, catchy, groovy music that is undeniably, unapologetically “hard rock.” At this point, I think you can make the case that Queens of the Stone Age is the best hard rock band ever. Certainly no other band that fits the foregoing definition has made consistently great albums for as long (25 years and running) as QOTSA. And they’ve done it once again in 2023 with In Times New Roman. “Emotion Sickness” is a highlight of the album, a quintessential QOTSA song built around an infectious riff-based groove, with hooks that are catchy as-all-hell but still sound like hard rock, and that modulates into falsetto vocals at all the right times. And they do it all in an utterly non-cheesy way. Long live QOTSA!

Sufjan Stevens – “So You Are Tired”

Yet another haunting, mysterious and outrageously beautiful song from the singular Mr. Stevens.

Caroline Polachek – “Welcome to my Island”

I’m a sucker for a great opening track. By which I mean a big, powerful, catchy - maybe even slightly bombastic - tour-de-force of a song that gets your blood pumping and heart thumping at the start of an album. E.g., “Baba O’Riley”; “Search and Destroy”; “Blitzkrieg Bop”; “Smells Like Teen Spirit”; “The Nights of Wine and Roses.” “Welcome to My Island” is the Polachek version of a great opening track. She uncharacteristically tones down her more overtly off-kilter flourishes and pumps up the volume, pace and energy. And, man, does it work. I find myself physically unable to resist this song, and I sincerely hope she’s not kidding when she sing-speaks “you ain’t leaving.”

Chappell Roan – “Picture You”

It’s been a long road, but deep diving into Aaron’s list each year has slowly chipped away at the indie rock snobbery in which my mind embedded itself as a twentysomething college student sometime around 1991. The end result is this: In 2023, I totally dug Chappell Roan’s debut album, The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess. This is unabashed pop and dance music. And yet I think it’s great. It doesn’t hurt that Ms. Roan is a talented songwriter with a knack for crafting strong hooks and clever lyrics. She’s also really funny and takes obvious joy in being deliberately naughty, which makes it all the more fun. I mean, the first line in the chorus of the song “Casual” is: “Knee deep in the passenger seat and you’re eating me out. Is it casual now?” In “Red Wine Supernova” she gleefully sings, “You like magic? I got a wand and a rabbit!” The song “My Kink is Karma” is about getting off on seeing her ex’s life get totally fucked up after their break up. But the song that really caught my attention is “Picture You.” It’s like nothing else on the album. Indeed, it’s a country torch ballad in the style of Patsy Cline (or, more recently, perhaps Angel Olsen). And it's a really good country torch ballad, filled with beautiful and aching melodies, lyrics about longing and desire, and sung in a voice that is both sultry and vulnerable. It’s unlike any other song I heard in 2023.

Dim Wizard – “Ride the Vibe”

Because I can't resist catchy, guitar-forward indie rock.

Bully – "Days Move Slow"

Because I can't resist catchy, guitar-forward indie rock.

Wednesday – “Bath County”

I didn’t love their 2023 album Rat Saw God as much as everyone else on earth, which I think is because I find Karly Hartzman's vocals a bit off-putting, which is compounded by the fact that they are buried so low in the mix that they are sometimes hard to hear (which is no doubt a deliberate aesthetic choice). But I can't deny the extraordinary overall sound of this album, particularly the fantastic guitars, along with the many really good tunes. Including this one, a dark and beautiful song with impressionistic lyrics about small town life that builds to a disturbing and powerful crescendo.

Noname – “Oblivion”

A few weeks ago I received a text from my brother that asked, “You ever listen to Noname?” I responded that I had not. He said, “Check her out. She’s real good.” I took his advice, and he was right. She’s real good. I like how she blends the poetic, the personal and the political. I like the jazzy, slightly off-kilter sonic palette. I like her distinctive phrasing. And on this particular track, I like the apocalyptic yet absurdly catchy chorus, accompanied by wild-ass lines like: “I'm that bitch, you sound like cat piss on popcorn.”

Remi Wolf – “Prescription”

This track is an absolute powerhouse of funky soul pop.