Alex G – ‘Headlights’ review: still weird and wonderful as ever

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Alex G, photo by Chris Maggio

Alex G’s signing to RCA Records in January 2024 felt momentous: after 14 years, Bandcamp’s brightest boy had thrown in with a major label. Fans marvelled at how he’d gone from basement shows to an opening slot for the Foo Fighters, and perhaps some fretted: was one of American indie’s most idiosyncratic singer-songwriters, gulp, selling out? We now have our answer in ‘Headlights’, a rich reward for the Alex Giannascoli faithful: his 10th album is no less bizarre than what’s come before, nor the melodies less beautiful.

Its creator, bless him, is also no better at giving interviews. But, as has been the case for most Alex G albums, the backstory hardly matters. You can read between the lines for a smattering of biographical detail if you like. The RCA signing gives the anxiety on ‘Real Thing’ a little bite: “Hoping I can make it through to April / On whatever’s left of all this label cash / No, I never thought I was the real thing / There were certain tests I thought I would pass.” The “sun”/“son” pun on the joyous single ‘Afterlife’ hits harder when you know that Giannascoli is the father of a two-year-old.

These little references give some recognisable shape to the surreal, shadowy world of this record. “I’m gonna put that rocket way up in the sky” on ‘Beam Me Up’ could be a nod to his 2017 album, where he made his first overt foray into folk and country. But it’s hard to ignore the resonances of that lyric – and “Missions or abductions” and “We’ll put the rifle on ’em / Way out in the rubble” – while reading headlines about ICE raids, space capitalism and American warmongering. Over a cascading key motif that sounds like you’re falling down a never-ending rabbit hole, Giannascoli paints a sombre portrait of the violent American dream/grind.

There’s always been a compelling queasiness in Alex G’s music, and on ‘Headlights’, death stalks his abnormal America. The album starts, on the beautifully Tracy Chapman-esque ‘June Guitar’, with our narrator swinging from a noose. He unlocks a new character for ‘Far And Wide’, singing big-mouthed and wide-eyed like an ingénue in a Broadway production. When he proclaims, over shrill strings, that he’s found the place to rest his weary bones, it sounds like he’s ready for the big sleep.

One could take the tastefully judicious instrumental additions, like the accordion solo on ‘June Guitar’ and the mandolin on ‘Afterlife’ (not to mention the pristine production by Giannascoli and Jacob Portrait) as obvious badges of a major label debut. But we’ve been in the high-fidelity Alex G era for a while; 2022’s ‘God Save The Animals’ was his first album to involve recording studios. Standing apart from the more typical Alex G fare like ‘Spinning’ and ‘Bounce Boy’ are moments of unpredictability (such as the single synth blast on the title track) – and breathtaking ambition. Revving motorcycles herald a tremendous transition on ‘Louisiana’, where Giannascoli’s voice, treated so it’s grainy and tinny, swims into booming, arena-ready drums. It sounds magnificent.

In 2019, Alex G shut the door on the seamy ‘House Of Sugar’ by ending its tracklist with a live recording. And on ‘Headlights’ he shows us out of its strange world and into the warmth of a full band performance in Philadelphia’s Logan Hotel. Between rock’n’roll clichés about being on the road and not letting you go, Giannascoli outlines a universal conundrum about bad choices. It’s a simple-seeming barroom stomper with a touch of timeless pathos. Would you expect any less from Alex G?