On the Stereo: Lone Justice, Soccer Mommy, Pixies

Plus Amyl & the Sniffers embrace their cartoonishness, Midland relaxes while Paul Cauthen indulges, Oak Ridge Boys love their mama.

Lone Justice—Viva Lone Justice [2024; 1993-2024]

One of the great unsung bands, Lone Justice arrived either too early or too late to make a lasting impression. Their eponymous debut appeared in 1985, smack dab in the glory days of heartland rock but long before Americana became an institution. Saddled with a slickness endemic to the 1980s, Lone Justice didn't do justice to the band's muscle, something that can't be said of Viva Lone Justice, a record that stands as something of an epitaph to the group. Grounded in recordings made during the pre-production of Maria McKee's excellent 1993 album You Gotta Sin To Get Saved, Viva Lone Justice finds the singer reteaming with guitarist Ryan Hedgecock, bassist Marvin Etzioni, and drummer Don Heffington—a significant reunion, since only McKee and Hedgecock managed to make it to Shelter, the band's second album. None of these songs made the cut on You Gotta Sin To Get Saved and it's not entirely clear if they were intended to be on a finished album: there's a bunch of covers, for one, plus the entire thing feels disheveled, as if the group just stumbled into the studio and played whatever came into their heads. This is very much a good thing. Rawness is what is missing from Lone Justice records so it's pretty thrilling to hear them barrel through "Teenage Kicks" with a sneer worthy of the Undertones and figure out how to turn MC5's "Sister Anne" into a roadhouse blues. These recordings have been slightly sweetened with overdubs but Viva Lone Justice never feels overcooked: like Omnivore's previous Lone Justice releases, it appears to capture the band at full flight. 

Soccer Mommy—Evergreen [2024]

Four albums into her career, Soccer Mommy—the stage name of singer/songwriter Sophie Allison—has staked out sonic territory adjacent to '90s revivalists. A delicate, airy singer, Allison is drawn to a sweetness that shape-shifts like shoegaze yet on Evergreen she doesn't surrender to overwhelming volume or succumb to atmosphere, motions she threatened to do on Sometimes, Forever, her previous album. Sometimes, Forever seemed to float endlessly but Evergreen is sharper: the angles are distinct, the melodies direct, the vocals pushed to the forefront. Allison hasn't forgotten the textural adventures of her past which lends Evergreen an appealingly woozy quality: "Salt in the Wound" sways under the weight of its keening riff and sighed hooks, "Abigail" rushes forth on a cascade of interwoven keyboards and guitars. Allison lets the clouds lift on occasion—"Driver" barrels forth on its heavy indie strums, "Anchor" skips through its cascading chords—but what lingers in the subconscious is how Soccer Mommy dresses her barbed, empathetic songs in sounds that give the album the resonance of a dream that's half-remembered. 

Pixies—The Night the Zombies Came [2024]

Like Doggerel before it—which I reviewed way back when for Pitchfork—The Night The Zombies Came feels like a Frank Black album, not a Pixies record. Blame this on a band that is firmly in middle age. Like Paulie Cicero in Goodfellas, Pixies move slowly because they don't have to move for anybody: