Last April, Chicago-based Disaster Kid retreated to a Wisconsin cabin and recorded half a dozen songs in just five days. From that session emerges the reflective Rare Bird EP, humbly billed as “a collection of notices and observations” by vocalist/guitarist/songwriter Seamus Kreitzer. A significant departure from the pop-rock sound of 2020’s Gutterball album, Rare Bird is equal parts shimmering and breezy as it is poignant and longing.
Traces of Neil Young, Wilco, and R.E.M. can be found in these 20 minutes, but there’s a clear uniformity among the six songs. Disaster Kid bills itself as “nostalgia rock,” and this mostly melancholy EP sonically and lyrically sounds like an attempt to simultaneously reconnect with, recontextualize, and run away from the past. Even the cover evokes that sense of intentional uncertainty and inconsistency, with the band standing in the woods, each member’s face obscured by a colored dot and running the gamut from friendly to closed-off body language. A member in the forefront stands out in head-to-toe blue while another member’s pants effectively camouflage into the bare ground.
The EP opens with its most decisive track, the twangy, jangly “Interstate Runner,” destined to earn a place as the soundtrack to an indie film road scene in the next five years if it doesn’t inspire a movie in itself. “I’m a constellation / You can name a star / Then I would be remembered by / Wherever you are,” Kreitzer muses. Though the chorus could use a little more variety beyond the repeated declaration, “I’m just your interstate runner,” it will no doubt serve as a powerful mantra concertgoers can yell in unison.
“Tow” is a sparser, aching ballad that falls south of two minutes. It paints a vague yet matter-of-fact picture of abandonment, giving listeners enough context to satisfy and enough curiosity to linger in our minds long after it’s over.
I have a soft spot for spoken word songs like R.E.M.’s “Belong” and essentially the entire discographies of Cake and Soul Coughing, and the title track of Rare Bird is a great addition to the genre. Some listeners find these sorts of tracks offputting, and for those who fall into that category, the song concludes with a pleasingly dissonant guitar solo that should make the preceding three-and-a-half minutes worthwhile.
“Temples” is perhaps the heaviest rocker on the EP and, surprisingly, the track that grabbed me the least. It’s not bad, but it’s not very memorable either. The backing vocal callbacks (“No shit!”) are a throwback to early 2000s emo and a reminder of why that sort of music resonated with me less than it did my high school peers. (Then again, two decades later, I guess it does fall under the “nostalgia rock” umbrella. Wait a minute, you’re telling me Mark Hoppus is 53?!)
On the opposite side of the spectrum, the pining country ballad “Don’t Wait Up for Me” is exactly the sort of track my classic rock-loving teenage music snob self would have immediately rejected but now I find irresistible. If you can listen to a song like this in the background, you’re a stronger man than I. It’s the song I keep turning back to each time I finish a full play of the EP and every time I feel compelled to look out the window and just…be. Thankfully, the gentle closing cut “Wine/Weapon” can take me back to earth while still offering a thoughtful and worthy conclusion to a strong listening experience.
There will be no better way to enjoy that experience than when Kreitzer and bandmates Max Berg, Connor Criswell, and Mason Stahl celebrate the release of Rare Bird with a show at Schubas (3159 N Southport Ave) on Friday, March 28 at 8pm (18+, tickets are $15 and on sale now).