Genre(s): Folk punk, singer-songwriter, alt-country
Label: Ernest Jenning Record Co.
Released: January 17, 2025
There are a few “downsides” to diving through the torrent of new music, searching for hidden gems. The most obvious is that you can’t catch everything. The sooner you accept that, the more you enjoy what you do take in. And fill in the gaps whenever possible — music reviews, online discourse, whatever.
But another I’ve felt is that, in the search for that special jus, the albums that hit are often a soundtrack of that time. For better or worse, depending on where your life is.
It’s because of that latter feeling that pushed me away from writing about music for years. I lacked the tools to understand why. Anything can become a relic when you don’t know how to process, let alone untangle, a dense knot of emotion and address the root causes. One imbued with a minefield of painful memories. Over time, you run out of space and either have to start throwing some away or address the fact that you’ve gathered quite a bit of baggage.
Fortunately, I’ve been on a therapy journey for the last four years, leading to a spring cleaning of sorts. There’s space to process, but I still don’t get too attached to records right away. It’s better to let them breathe and not be defined by their specific point in time. Just to be safe.
crazy arms by Olympia, WA folk punk band Pigeon Pit goes against the grain with how timeless it feels. Like countless albums, I completely missed it upon release. But I got pulled in by the right recommendation at the right time: Nina Corcoran’s excellent review for Pitchfork. Since listening to it at the end of January, it has become (and has remained) my most listened-to record for the year.
It didn’t take long for front-woman Lomes Oleander to reach out through my headphones after I hit play for the time. 30 seconds, to be exact. There’s a lyric in the opener (“bad advice”) that made me laugh the way AJJ does with their witty yet painful songs: “You said “just find what you love and do it / You’ll never work a day in your life” / So I did what I loved and I got fired.” Relatable! Little did I know that scratched an itch in my brain. I was hooked.
With each listen, Oleander’s voice reminds me of the common comparisons — Laura Jane Grace and Gordon Gano (Violent Femmes) — as much as Christian Holden (The Hotelier) and Don McLean at points. It’s a sort of raw emotional release valve. Backing her is a talented group that sounds as ready for a rowdy party as they are a funeral dirge. Not to say there are many moments to sit and be somber; with 12 songs in 35 minutes, there’s much ground to cover. But their expertise makes the album feel lived in, which is fitting since they recorded it live while crammed in a friend’s basement.
It was the mid-record trio of “stone song”, “dear johnny”, and “bronco” that cemented my love for crazy arms. You know, that run of songs that transforms your interest from a simple “I like this song” to “Oh wow, I can’t stop listening to this.” I still can’t listen to the LP without hearing all three in sequence.
“stone song” starts intimate and builds to a cathartic, folksy breakdown towards the end, then reverts to an even more delicate state. Oleander softens her vocal edges, with a performance that makes the song a clear standout. “dear johnny” is a flat-out bop that makes the most of every second. Oleander is all but racing to get her words out before the short track concludes. Then “bronco” mellows the tempo yet brings some of the most satisfying moments in the record. There’s a catchy chorus, chaotic verses, and an electric pitch shift and instrumental breaks in the bridge. It’s pure festival bait in the best ways.
This leads into the closing third of the record, which sets the whole apart from other folk punk albums in my eyes. “hot shower winter morning” takes you to a tranquil forest, blending beautiful instrumental progression with calming bird sounds. “keys to the city” is alt-rocky in its singer-songwriter approach, right down to that “baby, yeah” early on. It’s a refreshing sonic cleanser. Then “joesphine county blues” goes pure honky tonk, making you want to dance and stomp around to the banjo and violin. “run your pockets” wraps everything up with that Don McLean-esque vocal performance — the softest on the record. The vocal harmonies and Oleander’s melodies are marvelous, especially in the chorus.
I do find that “tide pools” and “maddy’s song” risk monotony to break up key points on the record. But I can’t deny Oleander’s claim that the latter is made “unique and devastating” by banjoist/singer Maddy Bun taking the lead vocal reins. They may not be my favorites, but both tracks feel made for dedicated fans to scream every line back live.
crazy arms has followed me around a lot this year. From the bitter colds of January to surprising spring warmth and near-freezing rains in February. It’s also whisked me to cabins in the Smoky Mountains, where my family used to gather in the summer months. Or to my old apartment in Burlington, Vermont, where a past relationship started to break at the seams. Each time, it reminds me of best friends for simple reasons, like a familiar voice or the energy of a basement show.
In years past, I would have recoiled and shelved the record. Maybe come back to it later, maybe not. But now? I can press play and go wherever the band takes me next.
Listen + Purchase crazy arms
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