MJ Lenderman: Manning Fireworks

So chill, bro. That’s how the kids talk these days, right? Because as an practically ancient person listening to a 25 year old make alt-country music, I feel as though I’m an imposter. The dude with the skateboard over my shoulder who saw Jane’s Addiction on the Nothing’s Shocking tour. The Replacements on the Pleased to Meet Me tour. In other words, my perspective on this not-particularly-young-person-sounding music is not that of a contemporary to one MJ Lenderman. Despite my old ears, there is something relentlessly catchy about Manning Fireworks. The warmth of old-school country mixed with the off-kilter suburban slacker swag of Pavement’s Central Valley Cali sound.

All of which comes together for this young North Carolinian guitarist’s fourth solo album. Doing the math: 25 years old, four albums… He’s what they used to call a savant, or a wunderkind, I guess. A guitarist by trade, playing guitar as a member of the band Wednesday, as well as contributing to music with Waxahatchee, among others. A talented kid. A talented man. He definitely peppers his songs with fun little turns of phrase and wordplay that jumps out at you from the lyrics that to my untrained ears just sound like a young person trying to find his way through being a young dummy. And Catholicism. It has that suburban nightmare feel, but also is rooted in the country themes of drinking and lost love. And loneliness and isolation. Always the loneliness with this generation!

I know this sounds like a real bummer of an album, but it’s not. Thematically it’s certainly not about partying with your best buds on a Saturday night while the DJ spins and the girls woo-hoo. Or whatever modern country and pop music is about. And it’s not as depressing and/or haunting as an equally high, creaky-voiced Jason Molina and his latter-day Songs: Ohia songbook, but he is certainly an evolution of that genre of dusty troubadour. But with certainly more sunniness than the darkness that Molina always seemed to inhabit — and ultimately descend into. No, these are pop songs. not dirges. Songs for the living, not the dead. But just a bit aimless and unfailingly directionless. Which, despite the incredible feat Lenderman has pulled off at his tender age, is exactly the type of album young indie artists should be making.

Ultimately Manning Fireworks is just an enjoyable-ass album. And after Hipster Jr. exposed me to some of that Zack Bryan nonsense, it makes me appreciate this music even that much more. No cliches about the small town and the dog and whatever else invades every modern day country song. No pandering is what I’m trying to say. Just a good record that survives many multiples of listens without ever getting tiresome. Top 10 for 2024, no doubt.