Is it time for a Saddle Creek revival? Pinegrove thinks so. If you like your indie rock with a hint of twang, emo vocal-cord abuse, and Conor Oberst-worthy histrionics, this New Jersey group has the ideal record to quietly sob into your drink with. Songs like “Old Friends,” “Aphasia,” and “Waveform” tear at your heart with bleary-eyed tales of loss, betrayal, and regret. Play it for a friend who only listens to Wilco.
Pinegrove gave us something singular yet familiar, an album that breathes or, more accurately, sighs — as if it’s the most natural progression in the world. On Cardinal, Evan Stephens Hall applies basement DIY’s detail-oriented logorrhea to melancholy roots rock, artfully dissecting his quarter-life neuroses against a backdrop of banjo, pedal steel, and shimmering waves of electric guitar. The music expertly surges and soars in service of Hall’s every word, lending powerful emotional weight to his reflections on the value of personal connection. His complicated turns of phrase work surprisingly well as barroom sing-alongs, but moments of simple profundity like “I should call my parents when I think of them/ I should tell my friends when I love them” are what continually send tingles down the spine
The Fat Angel Sings 