On the Stereo: The Hard Quartet, The Jesus Lizard, Nada Surf, The Smile

Catching up with a host of 1990s survivors, plus touching base with Keith Urban

The Hard Quartet—The Hard Quartet [2024]

It's too bad Stephen Malkmus already used the title Traditional Techniques back in 2020 because it suits the eponymous debut by the Hard Quartet, a pseudo-supergroup comprised of Malkmus, Matt Sweeney, Jim White, and Emmett Kelly. The Hard Quartet is resolutely a rock record, one created with little more than vocals, two guitars, bass, and drums—the same instrumentation that's been at the heart of rock since the 1960s. As musicians of a certain age, the four members of the Hard Quartet show little interest in bending or breaking that template, adhering to its structure because it yields both comfort and power. That duality is the key to The Hard Quartet: its winding explorations and barbed hooks feel familiar and fresh, a byproduct of this collective shares points of reference and an intertwined history yet have never before played in this particular permutation. Echoes of indie-rock past can be heard throughout The Hard Quartet, a fact the band subverts with misdirection—"Rio's Song" is sung by Sweeny and unfolds like a renegade B-side from Wowee Zowee—and playfulness. The tough stance in their moniker isn't necessarily a feint—there are plenty of guitar squalls and rhythmic urgency—yet the group is so comfortable in their skin that they proceed at a relaxed gait, relishing the sounds they find on their journey. The Hard Quartet doesn't follow a straight path. It wanders and drifts, sometimes returning to the main path, usually following a detour to its picturesque end. They might not be roaming through undiscovered territory but the journey is a pleasure all the same. 

The Jesus Lizard—Rack [2024]

Rack, the first album from the Jesus Lizard in over a quarter century, isn't as unhinged as the group's slashing, visceral records from the 1990s but that doesn't mean the album doesn't sound potent. Embracing their status as middle-aged misanthropes, the Jesus Lizard adheres to the ethos they etched out on Touch and Go without attempting to replicate the gnarled nastiness of their early collaborations with Steve Albini. The production belies its era—it's a bit punchy, a bit clean—but that suits a band that punctuates their assault with expansive flair. Lead singer David Yow remains a wonder, alternately riding the waves of noise and acting like a ringleader. 

Nada Surf—Moon Mirror [2024]

Yet another group of '90s survivors, Nada Surf gravitated toward the alternative mainstream, coming within spitting distance of the American Top 40 with "Popular" in 1996. Like many guitar groups who saw a brief glimmer of success, they never managed to revisit such chart heights. Unlike some of their peers, they buckled down to the hard work of being a band: settling into independent status, touring regularly, and recording steadily. Moon Mirror, the band's tenth album, reflects this work aesthetic by delivering eleven well-crafted songs that place as much emphasis on melody as atmosphere. Nada Surf adheres to the distinctly '90s blend of fuzzed-out guitars and blissed-out melodies yet there's not a glimmer of nostalgia here due to the band's commitment; it sounds as if they still thrill to how the parts fit together. The pop smarts of vocalist/guitarist Matthew Caws give the sheer rush of sound definition and tenderness, a combination that makes Moon Mirror an unusually satisfying guitar-pop album. 

The Smile—Cutouts [2024]

By the time Radiohead unofficially bowed out with A Moon Shaped Pool, I had reached the point of exhaustion with the band; I admired the album but grew tired of dedicating serious thought to untangling their meaning. Maybe this fatigue is why the Smile—a trio comprised of Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood, plus drummer Tom Skinner—didn't even register on my radar when they released A Light for Attracting Attention back in 2022 (the pandemic and parenting newborns also could've been a factor). I caught up with the band earlier this year when Wall of Eyes appeared and found myself surprised by how much I enjoyed the record. The same can be said of Cutouts, a swiftly-released sequel whose title implies that it's a bunch of leftovers from Wall of Eyes. What I like about these two records is their ease and mess. Ideas flow freely, the atmosphere doesn't feel austere, the electronic elements don't seem overheated, and, especially, the dextrous drumming of Skinner gives the band a lively, unpredictable pulse. All of this is accentuated on the quite casual Cutouts, where the lovely quasi-bossa nova stylings of "Tiptoe" are countered by the tightly-wound riffing of "The Slip." I can't claim that this is as tight and purposeful as a Radiohead record but that's probably why I enjoy it. 

Keith Urban—HIGH [2024]

There's a phenomenon among big-budget albums where the computerized construction results in an all-purpose, amorphous glassy sheen. HIGH, the twelfth album from Keith Urban, falls prey to this curse. It's bright, shiny, optimistic, and "eclectic," blending elements from numerous styles and eras. Urban always has drawn equally from rock, country, and rock, so this cross-genre fusion should come easily to him. And, occasionally, it does: "Laughin' All the Way to the Drank" shows some punch and humor while "Dodge in a Silverado" is a stately ballad owing a considerable debt to Paul McCartney. Usually, HIGH is so intent on being everything to everyone that it winds up being anonymous.