PINEGROVE

Line-up: As elaborated on below, the key members of the group are Evan Stephens Hall (vocals, guitar), Zack Levine (drums) and Sam Skinner (guitar, keyboards and production duties throughout). A rough summary of other frequent members includes Nick Levine (guitar and lap steel 2010-2020), Adan Carlo Feliciano (bass, 2010-2017), Nandi Rose Plunkett (keyboards and synthesizer 2010-2017; she'd continue to contribute to studio recordings but stepped away from being a full-time member in order to focus on her solo music under Half Waif), Josh Marré (guitar and lap steel, 2016-2022), David Mitchell (bass, 2016-2017) and Megan Benavente (bass, 2017-2023). I'm not going to list any line-up shifts in the reviews given the fluidity of it all but you can refer back to this paragraph to get an idea who was in at any given time if it's of interest; the profile photo is of the final pre-hiatus line-up.

The 2010s saw the rise of what I (and no one else really) like to call "cosy indie". Thanks to both the rise of Bandcamp as a valid distribution system for bedroom artists and the advancement in home recording technology so that the said bedrooms could function as a reasonably good studio, there was a sudden influx of independent bands and singer/songwriters (and the collectives in the blurred line in-between) with a distinctly homegrown sound. They weren't hi-fi but neither did they have any of the usual lo-fi trappings, the music was often decidedly mid-tempo with plenty of inspiration from folk and americana as well as the great indie forefathers of the 2000s, and the overall tone and sound was intimate and personal without becoming confessional. These bands were, well, cosy - you could imagine them huddled up together in a cabin somewhere, playing their sweet songs that came straight from their heart and who would sound like they were immediate close friends to the listener. I lap that stuff up, and as this site grows there will be plenty of it presented in various sections around this place (especially if I ever start featuring digital-only acts). But the act that paved the way to the rest - and the one closest to my heart - were Pinegrove.

Pinegrove, like many of these groups, were more of a collective. The core of the group is Evan Stephens Hall, the lead voice and sole songwriter whose voice, writing and visual direction (he's painted all the band's covers and is in charge of the very distinguishable iconography) guided the band; together with him, the mainstays from the start were drummer Zack Levine and guitarist/keyboard player and producer Sam Skinner. The rest of the band was largely made out of whoever in their friends circle was available to tour at any given time, with people coming and going in various lengths throughout the journey. Perhaps because of the relative instability of what the backing band was like at any given time, Pinegrove's music stayed more or less the same throughout their initial run of albums - the production values tightened somewhat over time and the later albums hint at more ambitious steps to branch out in small doses, but we're safely in the "cosy indie" territory throughout. Some might call that monotonous, but the reason why Pinegrove never got repetitive lies in Hall's songwriting. His sense of melody, his ability to turn small brushes into impactful strokes and both the earnestness of his lyrics and the deeply friendly (the best way I can describe it!) delivery all make Pinegrove's music so immediately captivating, each and every time around. I fell in love with them at first sight when I first dug into Everything So Far and Cardinal and found song after song of something that felt like it spoke right into my ears with a level of trust and care, and it turned them into one of those bands I'd try to mention to everyone who would listen (not realising that I was already a latecomer to the hype train at that stage). Each album since has repeated the same effect, even if slightly varying results and in different ways - and they do in fact differ from one another with each having its own distinct personality, even if it doesn't strike obvious at once (especially for untrained ears) - it might just be at more of a micro-level and identifiable only in the ears of those who had already fallen in love, but it's there. That relative simplicity though - no grand changes, no epic statements - does form a large part of band's magic too as well. There's a special charm to homeliness and, again, we're heading right into why "cosy indie" hits a homerun for me.

What sealed the deal between Pinegrove and myself was how they completely incidentally became part of my life. They had no idea about it, but their release schedule ended up coinciding with big moments in my own story and so they found themselves imprinting into those moments. The way they deeply connected with the times and places of my life around their releases resulted in the band's growth from a cosy shoulder I enjoyed leaning against to a musical friend that was there during major events, cheering me on in their own way. I have very vivid associations tied to their albums and I may indulge in those personal snapshots as I review through the records - it would only be fair, really, because that forms such a key part why they have a page on this site to begin with. It has cemented Pinegrove's status as one of the key acts of the 2010s for me.

As hinted throughout with the use of the past tense (and that operation year range with a finite end), Pinegrove officially went on hiatus in 2023, simply citing that they felt like it was the right time as people moved on to different parts of their lives and careers. The statement was worded so that they've kept the option open to return when it suits them again, but I personally wouldn't be surprised if it was a discreet full chapter closure given some of the members had already began to move to different projects. No drama was involved and the statement was followed by a few formal goodbye performances, and so Pinegrove finished with the same gentle grace that they were so characterised by throughout their entire run. Hall did a couple of ad hoc solo concerts in 2024 and played a number of new songs, and so I'd expect to hear something about a new project from him sometime in the future - and once that happens, they'll likely find their way in this page. While we're waiting for that, the short but strong Pinegrove discography is there waiting to be re-discovered over and over again.

For what it's worth, the band have also released a bunch of live albums through Bandcamp. I'm not going to bother going through them all as I'll quickly run out of things to say, and hence Amperland, NY (the only one to get a physical release) gets to represent that aspect of the discography on its tod.

Main chronology:

• 2015: Everything So Far
• 2016: Cardinal
• 2018: Skylight
• 2020: Marigold
• 2021: Amperland, NY
• 2022: 11:11

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Main Chronology

EVERYTHING SO FAR

1) New Friends; 2) Angelina; Mixtape Two EP (2014): 3) Problems; 4) Need; 5) Overthrown; 6) Size of the Moon; 7) Need 2; & EP (2013): 8) Namesake; 9) V; 10) &; 11) Unison; Meridian (2012): 12) Palisade; 13) The Metronome; 14) Mather Knoll; 15) Over My Shoulder; 16) Peeling Off the Bark; 17) Morningtime; 18) Recycling; 19) Sunday Mixtape One EP (2010): 20) On Jet Lag; 21) Days; 22) [untitled hidden track]

All the original pre-signing material under one set of covers; this is what put their foot through the door and even after all the albums, it's still just as essential.

Before getting signed on a label, Pinegrove were busy bees in Bandcamp, releasing multiple EPs and one full album independently across their first couple of years. Those early releases were what the band made their early buzz with and established the fanbase that would shoot them further, and so unlike so many other bands' early demo (or "demo", given that has so little meaning in the modern age) stages, Pinegrove's first set of recordings have a firm place in the canon. The band already put these together as a self-released compilation in 2014, which made it easy for the good folks at Run for Cover to simply reissue it as the group's first official release on the label, with a few tweaks in tow. Everything So Far is the chronicle of the band's beginnings - and it slots really comfortably into the wider continuum.

That's because Pinegrove came into this world incredibly fully-formed. In fact, to the point that I was genuinely surprised when I realised this compilation flows in a reverse-chronological order, because the Mixtape Two and & EPs have a more minimalistic and intimate, vaguely slowcore-adjacent sound to them which to my ears sounds a lot like a new band's first careful strokes at putting songs together. The Mixtape Two songs in particular are all very short as well, almost sketch-like with their economical verse-chorus-little-else structures, more about setting mood than really hooking in with melody which songs like the almost a cappella "Overthrown" (just Hall and textural guitar chords, with a flickering banjo somewhere in between) and the perky burst of energy "Problems" demonstrate beautifully. The only exception is "Size of the Moon" which in its early rendition here is still a little too timid to explode like its later re-recording would, but the hypnotic hooks and dynamics are already strongly present. Contrast these with the oldest songs which finish the compilation, the laidback drawl of "On Jet Lag" that keeps gently bubbling until it suddenly boils over and the epic finale singalong of "Days", both of which sound remarkably confident for the first public songs of a new act - they actually turn out to give the CD a really strong conclusion that befits the end of a long journey. Everything So Far is strong throughout but the development you can hear through its running order is curiously lopsided, but it arguably works better as a listening experience as the more pared-down songs slowly grow into bigger giants.

The opening EPs are good - though & is the least exciting run of songs on this 74-minute trek - but the undeniable star of the show is Meridian, the unofficial debut album. If the first half of the comp was a hushed affair that really highlighted a sense of closeness between the listener and the songs, Meridian is downright explosive. There's loud crescendos, pummeling drums, muscular guitars and spotlight-stealing vocal moments - all in a relative, bedroom-indie kind of manner of course, but still showcasing a proudly and ambitiously confident young group with a fierce set of songs. The band would go on to play a number of these songs throughout their live career and no wonder, because they're so neatly put together that they can slot in perfectly with the later, more nuanced and expansive material. This is particularly shown off in the beguiling, growing tension and subsequent sharp stab of a release of "The Metronome" is not just the best song here but can happily go head-to-toe with many of their later greats, a fiercely gripping three minutes and twenty songs full of yearning and anguish that proudly acts as the compilation's centrepiece. Elsewhere Pinegrove show their playful side with "Over My Shoulder" that for a brief moment steers very close to a playfully frolicing dance groove before course-correcting into an equally lightweight and joyful rock-out, while "Mather Knoll" moves between various tempos and moods while decorating all of them with lush layers of guitar melodies and vocals. One of Meridian's key features are those vocal parts as it features a prominent use of Nandi Rose Plinkett's backing harmonies throughout its eight songs, and they are such a great pairing with Hall's lead vocals that you can earnestly call them key part to the appeal of these songs: the euphoric "Peeling Off the Bark" with its anthemic backing vocal harmonies and double-sung vocals of the hazy, swirling "Morningtime" make particularly powerful use of them. They make you wish they'd be part of the band's sound going forward, and I'm not surprised if some would rank Meridian as one of Pinegrove's best releases on the back of those alone. Whilst everything surrounding them is worth the visit anyway, the Meridian section is the heart of this collection and its most essential part - practically mandatory to hear if you find yourself falling in love with the band.

In the beginning of Everything So Far are its newest songs, thrown on top of the Run for Cover issue of the album as an additional treat. Both "New Friends" and "Angelina" would get recycled for later releases ("Angelina" here is a little bit slower than the final Skylight version, and I'm pretty sure "New Friends" is the exact same recording that would end up in Cardinal) and placing them right in the front is an easy gateway for people who come to this after they've heard the later albums. They also work as a summary of the path taken throughout the other twenty songs and bridge it towards the next steps: the dynamics meet the textural arrangements, the intimacy meets the downright giddy outbursts of relatable emotion, the intricate melodycraft meets the snappier songwriting of the first few albums. But though they are arguably the closest to where Pinegrove would go next, they don't overshadow anything that follows them in this compilation. The greatest aspect of Everything So Far is how consistently good it - even when it sometimes threatens to veer into a little bit too much of the same thing over the course of its long length, the next twist to the usual proceedings or your next favourite song is always just around the corner. This is a lot more than just a collection of all the early material for eager fans, the songs here are a key part of Pinegrove's back catalogue and make for an effective, if a little stuffed, "shadow" album in their own right.

Physically: My issue is the 2017 digipak CD reissue, with a booklet featuring an introduction by Hall and all the lyrics. The lyrics are nicely divided into their own pages for each release, with the respective cover art adjacent to them - though cramming the words to all the eight songs on Meridian into a single page does mean they're written in an illegibly tiny font.

[Reviewed: 17/04/2025]

CARDINAL  

1) Old Friends; 2) Cadmium; 3) Then Again; 4) Aphasia; 5) Visiting; 6) Waveform; 7) Size of the Moon; 8) New Friends

Warm, cosy, full of heart and anthemic - a pintsized summary of Pinegrove

Cardinal is outwardly a very humble wider introduction for Pinegrove, as their proper label debut. Minimal presentation, no great leap in production aesthetics from the Bandcamp releases, only eight songs and scant 30 minutes in length. But that's quietly a pretty confident and ballsy move. There's no room to hide for a still-new band such as this, every single song has to be a killer pick worthy of your big premier - and retaining the sonic aesthetics is not only a sign that they aren't eager to ditch their signature 'mid-fi' sound even as they get a (bit of a) budget behind them, but it also tells that they see absolutely no reason to mess with what is already perfect for them. Cardinal acts small but in reality it's a bit of a statement piece, which despite its tiny stature steps into the room with some real presence.

What better way then to announce your new coming than with "Old Friends", which takes no time to become a classic album one/track one. Simple though the mid-tempo alt-country adjacent plodder (and I use that term affectionately) is in its arrangement, it's arresting - using a few tactically selected brushstrokes to paint a vivid picture that sneakily grips you by the guts. Part of it is down to Hall's earnest but poignant writing, simple lines such as "saw Leah on the bus a few months ago / saw some old friends at her funeral" and "I should call my parents when I think of them / should tell my friends when I love them" immediately creating scenes of places and emotions that resonate on a deeply human level. The other part is down to the melodies that decorate those lines and all the others, the little build-ups and breakdowns, the underlining of the storm inside your own brain through the ebbs and flows of the music. It's a deceptively straightforward song but it honestly doesn't need any further decorations or more complex musical expressions to drill down to the heart of what matters - and that's Pinegrove to a T, really.

To cut to the chase, Cardinal really is all hits from top to bottom as well. The album is a logical continuation from the early material not just in its sound but also the style, with these eight songs acting as a cross section of the range of moods and tones through the pre-signed material. What is more markedly different is how you can hear just how much bolder the band's performance across Cardinal is. That's more the result of Hall and co simply getting more confident with their craft, but it adds to the impression Cardinal leaves behind, where each song is played like it's the one that deserves to leave a lasting impression on you. You can really hear it on "Then Again" which is the perkiest song on the record, gently teasing into power pop territory as the ragtag crew sound so comfortable in their own skin that they're able to just let go and have fun. It's also really clear in "Size of the Moon", one of the two previously released songs across Cardinal. You could perhaps judge the group slightly by including familiar material when it's such a short tracklist to begin with, but the version of "Size of the Moon" here is the dramatic centerpiece the song always threatened to be, but which in its original EP version was just a bit too meek to pop out. Now it blasts out with all the fieriness and unfurling passion that it can contain, its tension-building tom rolls now bursting into a roaring chorus the size of an actual moon, Hall delivering his most impassioned vocals to date. It's a powerful moment, waiting to capture to the listener unawares.

Each of the rest slots in fabulously. Despite the fairly average song lengths and relatively stripped down arrangements (which genuinely come alive in a wholly different way through some good headphones), an awful lot turns out to happen in these songs. Sudden crescendos and burst of muscle mark the moments where "Cadmium" and "Aphasia" mark themselves onto the map (though the former has stronger melodies, the contrast between the lazy Sunday drawl of the verses and the rest in the latter is more impactful), "Visiting" stuffs its scant three minutes with multiple tonal shifts and matching musical switch-ups that leave dweebs like me reaching for the prog moniker, and "Waveform" moves from its spacious ambient americana textures into a grand communal singalong you could imagine embracing a stranger in shared appreciation to. "New Friends" was haphazardly shoved in as a brand new bonus cut on Everything So Far and appears here unchanged, bookending the album perfectly - obviously through the references to "Old Friends" in both the title and the lyrics, but in comparison to its mild-mannered brother it breaks out in rapturously joyful abandon with its shimmering guitars and brisk-footed pace. At the end of the record it sounds like a celebration that they've completed this milestone and you can practically see the band bowing down beaming with pride once the song sits back down and the album ends.

Thanks to its small size it's tempting to call Cardinal Pinegrove condensed - but besides the forced pun, it's also a little bit true. To some degree it's a bit of an ur-example of what Pinegrove's strengths are - the honest emotional connection, the superficially simple but slyly complicated arrangements, the down-to-earth down-at-home comfort of it all and the anthems that grow out of that fertile soil. Maybe it is admittedly also the fact that it came first for many, including myself who'd be wandering around the big city with this playing through the headphones in repeat in that excitement of new discovery, but the fact that Pinegrove never massively moved away from this either certainly keeps it retained in that position. But here's the final proof of its qualities: though I've repeatedly mention how petite this album is, it's one of the few of its like in my collection that doesn't feel like it's selling the experience short. It's eight songs and 30 minutes because that's all it needs to tell a complete story, and though I'd love to spend even more time with it, it doesn't leave anything unsaid behind it. Cardinal is about as confident and convincing as you could make your big stage debut and it does so with no other tricks than simply with a rock solid set of songs performed with heart and soul.

Physically: So after all that gushing, this is a bit of a letdown! This comes in a pathetically thin gatefold with no booklet or lyrics, just the credits on the inside covers. It's simple and straightforward, but in this case that's a bit disappointing.

[Reviewed: 24/04/2025]

SKYLIGHT

1) Rings; 2) Portal; 3) Intrepid; 4) Paterson & Leo; 5) Angelina; 6) Thanksgiving; 7) Easy Enough; 8) Darkness; 9) Skylight; 10) Amulets; 11) Light On
CD2 (Skylight II): 1) Rings (Acoustic); 2) Portal (Acoustic); 3) Intrepid (Acoustic); 4) Paterson & Leo (Acoustic); 5) Angelina (Acoustic); 6) Thanksgiving (Acoustic); 7) Easy Enough (Acoustic); 8) Darkness (Acoustic); 9) Skylight (Acoustic); 10) Amulets (Acoustic); 11) Light On (Acoustic)

Trailing treats from the same place the last album left the band in, with a wider hit/miss ratio.

Skylight was intended to follow Cardinal on its heels, with its first single ("Intrepid") appearing in late 2017 shortly after the previous touring cycle had finished. What happened instead was a complete halt in operations, caused by a complicated personal situation that Hall had gotten involved in with an acquaintance of a band that he, self-admittedly, had been the cause of. This inadvertently ballooned up due to meddling from a third party agent who thought to seek personal fame on the back of the rising star of indie rock in the height of the #metoo movement, against the wishes of both Hall and the other involved individual but both of whom went along with it thinking it was the right way - only for every action taken to end up causing even further speculation on what had actually went down. Pitchfork ultimately brought as much detail into light as comfortable for everyone and in effect absolved Hall of any sins that people thought he might have committed, and with the blessing of the other individual Pinegrove resumed operations from where they left off. A good year after it was originally meant to have seen light Skylight finally came out, self-released by the band.

That break explains why Skylight is closer to being Cardinal 2 than it is a full new step forward for the band. A number of the songs had been a part of the band's live repertoire throughout the Cardinal tour and before, and two of the songs had already been recorded and released earlier ("Angelina" on Everything So Far, "Paterson & Leo" on a deluxe issue of Cardinal). Half of the songs only run for around two minutes or less (both "Thanksgiving" and "Amulets" are a minute long as the shortest of the bunch) and the album's style generally draws comparisons to some of the earlier EPs with their more compact, atmospheric songwriting. The album basically feels and acts like a quick addendum to or the second half of Cardinal, clearing more of the accrued backlog of existing material now that they were signed (emphasis on the "were signed" given the self-release) before considering how to evolve going forward.

When Skylight came out the reception was muted, both because of the situation of the preceding year but also because it just wasn't the kind of album that would break the awkward silence with an explosive comeback ethos. I was a little hit and miss with it then as well, and now that I've had all these years with it... I still feel the same way to some degree. There are parts of Skylight where the band are clearly clearing house as opposed to delivering their strongest new material. The myriad of short songs is one thing and some of them are closer to connecting tissue than independently standing material - "Thanksgiving" is a muted interlude, "Amulets" is primarily an intro to "Light On" - while "Portal" and "Easy Enough" sound like lesser versions of songs you can find on Cardinal. Even "Intrepid", the lead single though it was, never sounds quite comfortable in its own, shapeshifting skin as it goes up and down the dynamics in a manner that gives the impression that it should be exciting, but it never quite lands fully. Even when operating on a lesser gear Pinegrove are still thoroughly engaging and at least the short lengths mean that you don't spend much time wading in the less intriguing material, but the impression it leaves behind veers very close to Cardinal demos and offcuts from time to time.

The thing is, despite these shortcomings Skylight is actually a good album overall and that's because even though some of it disappears in-between the lines, the songs that make up those lines themselves are downright excellent. For every pleasant but not particularly impressive part of the tracklist, there's a career all-timer. Some of these are the short songs: "Angelina" is an exciting firecracker that goes through an entire dynamic range in its minute and a half of hook barrage, and the quiet and contemplative "Paterson & Leo" glows with the solemn beauty you can find yourself in when wandering around your hometown late at night when everything has gone quiet, the subtly coiling melodies wrapping up to evoke a wistful sense of longing and unexpected happiness without even realising. "Rings" already opens up with a yearning sense of moving somewhere bolder as it tracks through its steady rhythm and constantly rising enthusiasm, but that scale is reached properly when "Darkness" appears. "Darkness" is the album's centrepiece anthem and builds up to a rousing soar in its bright and radiant first half before sinking deeper into contemplative waters for the second half but growing even grander emotionally - on an album that has a faint undercurrent of playing around with loud/quiet dynamics (in a cosy, cottage-y Pinegrove fashion), "Darkness" does it most resonantly and proudly stands as the bold giant at the heart of the album. Its counterpart is the serene and welcoming title track, which tells the listener to sit down for a little bit, take a deep breath and simply immerse themselves in what's around them. It's in my books Pinegrove's most beautiful song, downright meditative in its striking sense of intimate atmosphere and pastoral elegance. "Skylight" together with the country-tinged final send-off and singalong cheers of "Light On", which closes the album with a big americana-embracing hug that impossible not to warm up to, Skylight the album does hint a little bit towards some of the sonic ideas of the future, even if it doesn't make a big number about it.

Its lofty strengths don't change the fact that out of the four main albums (and in all honesty, we can include Meridian there too), Skylight is the least impressive one. Maybe it would've looked a little more favourable if it had been released near its older sibling as intended and it would resemble a nice little set of extra treats for the fans while waiting for the formal follow-up, but even then of course the material would've been the same. Unlike the other albums it doesn't feature a voice of its own, its disparate songs stuck in-between the old and the new. That's a long, pretentious way of saying that it's the album I'm least likely to place in the CD player when going for my regular Pinegrove hit - but as said, songs like "Darkness", "Skylight", "Angelina" and "Light On" belong in the hall of fame and almost carry the album alone on their backs. Out of the main discography it's the album I also feel least attached to on a personal level, though parts of it do vividly bring to mind my bedroom in the house I lived in at the time - albeit not quite to the same degree as Cardinal stirs those memories, and ain't that just the summary of this album? It's a little more of what you know and love from the previous album but with less oomph and buzz behind it, but it is to be said that a somewhat more all-over-the-place offering from a band who have been going from strength to strength so far still ends up being a pretty good one.

As a final word, there's also the second disc that warrants a brief mention at the very least. Perhaps to apologise for the long wait and for the material technically being quite old at this stage, the eventual release of Skylight came with a bonus disc simply titled Skylight II: in summary, it's Hall playing through the album solo with just an acoustic guitar. And that's basically it, and so how much you get out of it depends on how much worth you put in hearing the songs in a more stripped down environment where you can practically imagine Hall sitting a few meters away from you playing these songs. It's thoroughly pleasant and largely follows the main album in terms of where its strengths lie. A few songs are worth a specific mention though. "Darkness" somewhat flips its dynamics, where the first half is played relatively straight with its guitar strumming but where Hall then intensifies his vocals and playing for the second half - meaning that the formerly moodier finale of the song now sounds more bombastic and impassioned. "Light On" has all the country slide guitars and other tricks peeled off and in its core is a very traditionally Pinegrove-y song, and as such bears the most different results in direct comparison to the disc 1 equivalents. The highlight is, as it is on the main album, "Skylight" itself: now even quieter, sparser and more peaceful, and just as powerful in its emotional charge.

Physically: Simple gatefold design, with the two discs stored on opposite panels and with a simple lyrics booklet stuffed with one of them.

[Reviewed: 20/06/2025]