Despite its title, Ratboys’ new album Singin’ to an Empty Chair is not defined by what’s missing. Rather, it’s the beginning of an important dialogue with a close loved one vocalist Julia Steiner finds herself estranged from. The music on the band’s sixth studio album – its first for New West Records – fills the space that person left behind with 11 songs showcasing Ratboys at the peak of their powers — twangy, effervescent, as confident as they’ve ever been, and perhaps more emotionally interrogative than ever before. The four-piece Chicago band followed up 2023’s highly acclaimed The Window by reconvening with co-producer Chris Walla to begin tracking at a rural Wisconsin cabin before taking the songs to Steve Albini’s famed Electrical Audio studios in Chicago and later to Rosebud Studio in Evanston, Illinois. The results veer from bubbly power-pop on “Anywhere” to irresistible post-country on “Penny in the Lake,” along with heart-piercing ballads like “Just Want You to Know the Truth” and an exhilarating detour into the extraterrestrial on “Light Night Mountains All That,” which Steiner dubs the band’s mammoth “wormhole jam.” Singin’ to an Empty Chair also marks the first Ratboys album written since Steiner began therapy, which the singer/lyricist credits for the clarity found across the album’s unflinching examinations of relationship and self. Fittingly, as the album begins by extending a hand into the void, it concludes with a scene of serenity – all while weaving candid honesty, humor, chaos, and whimsy along the way. “It's not all doom and gloom,” Steiner says. “The experience of making this record definitely gives me hope for whatever happens next.” /// Words by Patrick Hosken

In the past ten years, Conor Murphy the person and Smidley the band have come to exist beyond the mere creative overflow left unexplored in his work with Foxing. Through his own growth in and out of Smidley, though, art and life itself have entered into an ongoing cycle of redefinition. This redefinition isn’t a destination, but a new pathway paved by Murphy’s gratitude for and security in the artist, husband, and man that he’s become. Smidley’s third album, Murphy Horse, soundtracks this journey. “These songs summarize a year of confusion and doubt where the only thing I was actually sure of is that I married the love of my life,” Murphy explains. “Those two ideas were the basis for every song here.” Though doubt remains a recurring obstacle for Murphy, each Smidley song brings him back home to love. The doubt present in the dramatic and sparsely percussive opener “Corpse Flower,” melts away by the first hook of the quirky-yet-danceable “Capstone,” just before a breathy feature from Grammy award-winning singer/guitarist Lucy Dacus culminates in the duo proclaiming, “All this loving you has been the capstone of my life.” Murphy chides himself for being too career-driven and fantasizing about freedom from such earthly woes over a bittersweet melody on the album’s title track, his spiral repeatedly interrupted by his wife yelling “Hey!” throughout the song. The explosive and vibrant “Love In Every Direction,” sees Murphy lamenting this single-mindedness in the face of all he truly has over an effortlessly danceable indie pop composition that feels destined to create a series of massively emotional festival performances. All over Murphy Horse are recurring performances tinged with shoegaze, tropicalia, and 80’s rock influence that see Smidley extending beyond his earlier closely-sung, indie folk style. Murphy leans much more into Smidley as an ensemble. Though not a debut by any means, to Murphy, Murphy Horse certainly feels like one. The confusion and doubt are no longer debilitating because Murphy has the support he spent his whole life seeking. Everything and everyone can be repurposed.