MJ Lenderman knows the shape you're in
MJ Lenderman knows the shape you're in
Asheville, North Carolina's finest releases "Manning Fireworks"
MJ Lenderman is the new king of indie rock. The news comes with bonafides from the Ringer, the New York Times, and Stereogum, among others. Ahead of its release, Lenderman’s fourth album, Manning Fireworks, was plastered across social media networks of a specific dude.
This dude is a bearded dad who is leaning into an Adam Sandler-like fashion sense. He is not giving a “hoot bout nothin’ ‘cept this here cold beer on a late summer’s day.” He delivered that line like Hank Hill of King of the Hill. Musically, the dude likes a guitar solo but isn’t ready to commit to seeing Phish at the Sphere in Vegas. The dude would say he’s a man of taste and culture. Culture like NBA League Pass and name-dropping knowledge of ‘90s stars like baseball’s Larry Walker who was the cover star of the Nintendo 64 video game, All-Star Baseball ‘99.
If this dude isn’t a dad, he’s a good uncle. He’s still trying to keep up with “kids these days.” Notice his effort when he jokes with office colleagues: “Hey, you ever heard of that band Smashing Pumpkins?” He attempts a giggle that comes out like a half-snort, half-grunt. Everyone moves on with their day. No one remembers the joke.
Lenderman captures this lonely, well-intentioned character on Manning Fireworks songs like “You Don’t Know the Shape I’m In” and “Rudolph.” That the former song’s title is also a callback to The Band’s “The Shape I’m In” is a bonus. The final track is titled “Bark at the Moon,” and it sounds nothing like the Ozzy Osbourne song that preceded it. Another bonus: Lenderman’s “Moon” ends with some righteously heavy/ambient guitar feedback.
“Phish would never,” the dude jokes, before acknowledging that he’s never really listened to Phish. However, he knows “they’re not my thing.”
As good as Lenderman’s songs are, he benefits from excellent timing. There is radio silence on the topic of new material from the dude’s favorite groups The War on Drugs, The National, and Deftones (it’s complicated). This lull has provided enough space for the arrival of a hip, new cat. Lenderman’s mix of Southern fiddle, punch-drunk slang, and tube amplifiers hits a sweet spot of Tom Petty-like classic rock vibes. It doesn’t hurt that Lenderman’s vocal delivery is a touch more enthusiastic than Pavement’s Stephen Malkmus, an absolute icon among the dudes.
Rock music in 2024 doesn’t have to reinvent the wheel. It won’t. Speakin’ as a child of the ‘90s, the dude knows that. At his age, the dude just wants a little respect and not too much distortion on that guitar solo. Give him that and you’ll get more of what makes Lenderman intriguing to people outside this crowd of dudes: the lyrics about clarinets doing a lonely duck walk before you hear those clarinets; or the scene where someone’s punching holes in the hotel wall while yelling, “All you had to do was be nice to me”; or the image of a deleted scene featuring a blackout-drunk Lightning McQueen from Cars.
“He’s funny,” the dude says about Lenderman’s lyrics before sipping the last of that there beer that was too damn expensive, but it’s a little toasty out, and the dude always likes a beverage on Sundays during the game. You didn’t ask for any of these details. Dude just spewed them out, like some clogged garbage disposal in reverse.
Lenderman’s smart enough to know this audience and how to respond: You acknowledge the dude with a chuckle, tip your beverage in his direction, then leave the dude be so you can go back to being so stupidly self-aware that you will become the dude in approximately 10 years. The exchange is nearly a Tim Robinson sketch with the amounts of cringe, self-absorption, and self-despair. Lenderman summarizes it best on “Joker Lips”: “Please don’t laugh, only half of what I said was a joke. … All I really wanna see is see you need me.”