Algernon Cadwallader could have come back as a nostalgia act, playing their old songs at festivals and basement reunions. Instead, they returned with Trying Not to Have a Thought, a record that proves they still have something urgent to say. Where some veteran emo bands have leaned toward clean, polished production in their second life (looking at you, American Football), Algernon doubled down on rawness and spontaneity. The guitars twinkle and clash, the vocals push into harshness without being tuned or sanded down, and the record feels alive in a way that only Algernon can deliver.

“Hawk” was the perfect choice to open. It bridges the gap between their classic sound and the maturity found across the new album. From there the band stretches into new territory. “What’s Mine,” a six-minute centerpiece, gives the music space to build section by section, showing a patience and restraint that wasn’t as present in their early work. “noitanitsarcorP” sits mostly on one chord, its meditative weight recalling Goodness era Hotelier, especially the track “Sun.” Even when the pace slows, as on “Koyaanisqatsi,” the writing shines. This stretch of tracks may lack the frantic urgency of Parrot Flies or Some Kind of Cadwallader, but it reveals growth and a willingness to let the songs breathe.

The title track is a gradual burner, built on repetition of lines like “I’m talking over myself again” and “I know I’m lost and I know it’s always in the last place.” By the time Helmis delivers “I’m trying not to get caught in the backwash of an artificial world constructed by blood sucking mother fuckers,” the band has elevated simple phrases into rallying cries. “You’ve Always Been Here” pushes further into patience, with verses sitting on a single chord and exploding into classic Algernon bursts. It feels like a dialogue between eras, the basement-show band of 2011 reimagined through older and wiser eyes.

“Revelation 420” begins as chaos, harsh vocals over loose rhythmic time, before resolving into something beautiful. The guitars are busy but never clash, each line complementing the other. Lyrically the record is heavier than anything Algernon has released before. “History is a record and it’s never an accident when you find out what no one ever told you,” Helmis sings, before skewering hollow nationalism with “I hate the USA, in particular our performative holidays.” That blunt honesty connects directly to “Attn MOVE,” a powerful song about the 1985 MOVE bombing in Philadelphia, one of the most horrific tragedies in the city’s history. In his Pitchfork interview with Ian Cohen, Helmis explained that the event has been buried in history more than it should be, and that the band wanted to use their platform to make younger fans aware of it. The line “Some black clouds never go away, just hover in place” hangs heavy before the band locks into one of their most emotional jams.

Still, Algernon never forget who they are. “Million Dollars” recalls their classic scrappy energy, with shouted verses and wry talk-singing about what money can and cannot do. And the closer, “World of Difference,” ends the record on the band’s most cutting lyric: “Do we need permission to exist or do we just need to afford it.” It is a question that captures the urgency of Trying Not to Have a Thought as a whole.

As good as this record is, for me it doesn’t quite reach the same heights as Parrot Flies. That album’s raw urgency still feels unmatched. But Trying Not to Have a Thought doesn’t need to beat their past to matter. It shows a band willing to evolve, willing to let songs breathe, and willing to speak directly to the world around them. That alone makes it one of the most vital rock records of 2025.

8.7/10

Written by Bryan Williams