Notes on Alex G's Headlights
Clean like kerosene
Alex G is my guy. He’s a lot of other people’s guy, too: his obfuscated lyrics and lack of pretension making him a perfect candidate for cult fandom. He’s not playing the game like MJ Lenderman or Phoebe Bridgers or other omnipresent indie rock darlings. We hear from him when there’s a new album and when Jane Schoenbrun releases a new film. I can’t speak to what’s going on with his massive streaming numbers and top songs because I have absolutely no idea. I’m starting to think of him as my generation’s Pavement, minus Malkmus’s prickliness. An off-kilter sound weird enough to drive away casual listeners; lyrics that don’t really matter; a talent for writing perfect pop hooks with a staunch refusal to indulge those instincts more than a couple times per album; the aforementioned disinterest in giving themselves over to the media.
While every new Alex G album is a major event for me, I struggled a bit with his Welcome to the Big Leagues albums, Rocket and House of Sugar—the BNM era, the Frank Ocean era—loving individual songs but feeling an overall inconsistency. God Save the Animals in 2022 righted the ship for me, finally knocking Beach Music off its long-held spot as my personal favorite. There were perfect bits of songwriting (“Runner,” “Miracles”), deep grooves and big beats, just an overall appealing production palette with a fun variety of memorable melodies. And now it’s Headlights time—new fatherhood adding an extra year to his usual release timeline. While I think I’m generally loving it, I also feel like there are some dead spots, so I want to go song by song and thoroughly interrogate the record.
Individual track scores at the end of each blurb.
1. “June Guitar”
Extremely pretty production (value neutral statement). His voice sounds a little coarse against the placid backdrop, and I love the pitched-up secondary voices. He knows how to layer in all these little elements to make a superficially simple song way more interesting. The song really hits its stride at the chorus and then there’s the Alex G hallmark of a synth (or some other instrument) entering midway though. A fitting opener; not a full meal, but the scene is set. [10]
2. “Real Thing”
The low-key, acoustic tone continues, with that classic Alex G “off”-ness. I wish I knew anything about music theory to know why the chords he’s playing so often feel slightly sinister. Once again, the little flourishes he throws in—flute?—are brilliant. I don’t know if I like hearing him sing phrases like “label cash” that are presumably pulled from his life, but I’ll live. A beautiful mellow cacophony of sounds to close it out. (“Mellow” might be a relative adjective: Hanako says she smashes the Next button the moment the the guitars screech. It’s like five seconds…) [9]
3. “Afterlife”
The song of the year and maybe even better than “Runner,” which was the song of its year. There’s a big beat here that’s missing from a lot of the album. Very fun lyrics to sing along even if you don’t know what they mean. The specific syllables he emphasizes in phrases like “Clean like kerosene” and “Not an angel, but I’m your man” prove his songwriting genius more than anything. And that “Sonnnnnn” is pure euphoria. Do I even need to point out that a new instrument enters for the second verse? It’s funny how he’s capable of writing these uncomplicatedly accessible pop bangers, but he only puts like one on each album. [10]
4. “Beam Me Up”
One of the unusual/essential aspects about Alex G is how many different voices he has, whether it’s via computerized filter or just manually pushing his voice into a different register. Would I be able to blindly identify him if he guested on someone else’s song? I’m not so sure. The voice on “Beam Me Up” isn’t my favorite—a little strained and nasally. It’s funny that he presents (seemingly) clear thoughts about art and money then immediately changes the topic to some football character. Not my favorite track, especially after the high of “Afterlife.” [7]
5. “Spinning”
The first real sonic departure for the album—a bigger, swirling atmosphere. The sinister chord progressions continue to loom large. It’s comforting to hear his voice slightly shrouded again. The chorus isn’t quite memorable enough to leave an impression, but it’s a cool song. [8]
6. “Louisiana”
Time for some weird shit. My mind goes to swamp… haunted house… Vocals are extremely distorted here. Probably not an essential Alex G song, but it’s the type of thing I’m glad he’s still trying. [7]
7. “Bounce Boy”
For a rock guy, he’s really good at these experimental forays. The beats might start to feel shallow if he made a whole electronic(ish) album, but as a headbanging palate cleanser, I love it. His best work in this vein is probably the second half of “No Bitterness” from God Save the Animals. From the opening notes here, you can really tell it’s a song called “Bounce Boy.” [10]
8. “Oranges”
Beautiful, plain and simple. An Alex G song you could play for anyone in your life. There’s an old-timey feel with lyrics like “Mama, come out and rescue me.” (I guess “Mama” is a common shortcut for setting a song in the warm past.) Between this and “June Guitar,” it seems like “Miracles” was a major jumping off point for this album. He makes it sound so easy. [10]
9. “Far and Wide”
Okay, I hate what he’s doing with his voice here; it feels like a prank. Too nasally! I guess you can’t experiment all the time and not miss every once in a while. The song does improve as it goes along, with a chorus of (nicer) voices and some sweeping strings. This would fit in on Beach Music—a supreme unease in the production. Not one I’m ever gonna single out. [6]
10. “Headlights”
Here’s the biggest mystery on the album. It’s the longest song by far, a slow and hazy sunset drive that has yet to reveal itself to me as more than a fairly pleasant mood piece. My mind goes to Strange Ranger’s Daymoon—a very Alex G album—with lyrics like “Flying down the interstate just to watch the colors run.” But amongst Headlights’ big swings and pop triumphs, it’s a little anonymous. The vocals blend in with the production and aside from a short burst of noise in the middle, it’s not super dynamic. Back-to-back with “Far and Wide,” the album is hitting a bit of a rut. [7]
11. “Is It Still You In There?”
Others have pointed out that this sounds like Vince Guaraldi’s Charlie Brown Christmas music and I can’t unhear it. Melancholic pianos and a ghostly choir. Kinda nothing, don’t need it, not unpleasant. Weird decisions here on Side B. [6]
12. “Logan Hotel (Live)”
Another hilarious juxtaposition of songs—along with “Bounce Boy”/”Oranges”—hard pivoting from depressed Christmas music to a hootenanny. The stark difference in production is a little distracting—this is the only Headlights song to feature his longtime touring band, and they recorded it live—but I can’t complain when the music is so fun. He approaches autobiography again here, but his singing is more natural and the phrasing goes down easier. It’s not groundbreaking stuff: touring for years makes you crazy, but it doesn’t need to be; it’s a simple song that’s mostly “na na na” wordless chorus and an extended outro to ease you out of the album. I can’t imagine him maintaining this energy for a whole album—it’s pastiche in the same way “Bounce Boy” is borrowing electronic textures—but he’s such an amazing songwriter that it’s not just convincing, it’s a blast. You can feel the joy in the room. An unusual ending to the album, but that’s the Alex G way. [10]
So where does that leave us? Probably in the realm of Very Good/Great; a notable step down from God Save the Animals and back to the Rocket/House of Sugar template of high highs and too many unremarkable songs to ignore. But it’s been almost two months and I’m still playing most of the album regularly, and that’s not true of basically anything these days. A worthy entry into an increasingly impressive discography.
