Review by Erin Christie
Wunderhorse’s “sophomore slump”-evading Midas is a record that immediately drew me in. As with frontman Jacob Slater’s monumental project debut, Cub (2022), this long-awaited second album — crafted alongside his touring bandmates, now permanent Wunderhorse lineup fixtures — similarly places a stamp on the former Dead Pretties bandleader’s emotionally evocative word-smithing, packing an emotional KO that lulls you into a heart-pumping yet cerebral hypnosis. The record’s storytelling, combined with Slater’s versatile, sentiment-laden vocal stylings, creates a deeply affecting experience, one that you’d be remiss to skip out on. Even lead single “Midas” kicks off the record with the crack of a whip; it’s a no-holds-barred, self-aware reintroduction to the project unlike any of their previous material that says “we’re not playing around.”
Even if you’re consuming the album solely based on its cover, Midas’ title bears a heavy load regarding this aforementioned world-building. It evokes imagery of the king of yore’s gold-tinged touch, bestowed upon him by Dionysius, with which he is initially thrilled but soon realizes is a curse — “Be careful what you wish for,” as the saying goes. It would make sense that the royal Midas himself and the double-edged sword that is ‘reward’ would be on Slater’s mind while working on this new album in the wake of the avalanching success of Wunderhorse’s debut. Against a backdrop of cacophonous guitar interplay and beefy, smattering drums, the record is thusly weaved with an existential throughline: a respect for the past, an attempted understanding of the present, and a fearful yet grounded acceptance of the future. This bold and earnest songwriting approach, as seen here and on Slater’s solo material, is perhaps what makes Wunderhorse’s output resonate so deeply with me, hitting my chest like a speed train.
I was coincidentally in London (Wunderhorse’s neck of the woods) for work when Midas’ third single “Silver” was unveiled over the summer. A stranger to the city at the time, I spent a handful of nights walking back to the apartment I was sharing with my coworkers in Battersea with the track’s cooing plea, “hush now, baby, don’t you cry,” reverberating in my skull. Those London strolls evoked a similar feeling to that which I encountered in the wake of Cub’s release in 2022, a time that initiated Slater’s emergence as a writer born from the hallows of turbulent personal experience, composing songs in the context of growing older, adapting to change, and learning difficult lessons in the process. In 2022, I had moved to New York and was experiencing a handful of growing pains myself, leading me to find solace in the record’s tender, yet abrasive quality and honest portrayal of personal reckoning. To this day, inclusions such as “Girl Behind the Glass" and “Purple” decorate my commutes to Manhattan for work and back to downtown Bushwick for a variety of shows at low-ceiling, dimly-lit venues, adding a sense of cinematic contemplation to the journey. Midas achieves a similar result, touching on my own inner dialog re: imposter syndrome, self-doubt, and doom, telling me that I’m not alone and serving as another safe-bet for soundtracking my times staring out the subway window into blackness.
Shortly following Midas’ full release later in the year, I found myself at one of said dimly-lit shows, this time to see Wunderhorse themselves at a sold-out-in-minutes show at Union Pool in Williamsburg. That evening, the crowd sloshed against the knee-height stage, praying before the altar forged by the foursome. Onstage, Slater adorned sunglasses, his enthused head-bobbing throughout the set forcing said headwear into quiet calamity atop his nose bridge. Performed live, Midas’ infectious throughline of tsunami-like sonic mayhem, intercut with honest reflections on life, kept the crowd in a state of understandable levitation. The night’s energy was levied, too, by the live debut of the record’s most sonically somber inclusion, “Superman,” where Slater strips things down with a pensive and soaring musicality, akin to Wunderhorse’s beginnings with Cub.
Above all, in attempting to condense my thoughts on Midas into a handful of coherent paragraphs while also listening to it, I encountered a rare scenario in which I was unable to evade writer’s block for a good chunk of time – not because I wasn’t sure what to say, but because I was continually getting distracted by how truly ensnaring the music is in itself. This speaks to the fact that this is a record that demands your attention and refuses to release it; it’s active and emotive listening material, at the expense of one’s ability to multitask while taking it all in (and in this case, it’s a good thing). More than just rivaling tourmates Fontaines D.C.’s highly anticipated Romance (released a week prior), Midas establishes Wunderhorse as a heavyweight in 2024’s alternative music circuit, and sticks them at the top of the replay pile in my book.
Favorite Tracks: Rain, Emily, Silver
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