Today, shaggy-haired Philly guitarist Alex G announced his second album for Domino, Rocket, and it’s a doozy. His first for the label, 2015’s Beach Music, was an uneven affair, and not necessarily an ideal place to start with his massive discography throughout this decade (much of which remains unofficially released, if readily accessible on YouTube). His earliest recordings, simply sung with acoustic guitar backing, can bleed together upon initial listens. But highlights emerge, especially songs with particularly poignant lyrics. Like Elliott Smith, whom those early recordings recall, Alex G seemed to tire of his own warped take on a coffeehouse sound, eventually adopting a full band (and more) for his more recent albums. One song on Rocket is essentially hardcore punk, another basically country.
In what was a surprise but perhaps shouldn’t have been, Alex showed up on Frank Ocean’s Blonde last year. Why did this underground star catch the ear of one of music’s biggest stars? Alex shares the love of a sweet and sour song with Ocean, and though Alex’s music skews towards indie rock where Ocean goes R&B, there’s an undeniable similarity to the often indistinguishable way they sing about love and sadness. It’s not difficult to imagine Alex G songs being blasted from John Cusack’s boombox in Say Anything. It’s also not difficult to imagine him playing John Cusack, either. Dude’s kinda dreamy.
His large, diverse body of work is what makes him an exciting artist to get into, but it’s also what makes it such a pain to figure out where to start. Below, find eight highlights from throughout his career, each as good a place as any other to dive in.
“You Are Great”
Clocking in under two minutes, this unreleased track crystallizes Alex’s early magic: extremely basic rhyming, doubled vocals, charmingly cruddy recording, and some shaken sleigh bells for added vibe. It’s an apology note and a love letter in one, and it’s quite beautiful.
“Change”
With its squeaking strings and sinister strumming, “Change”—off his 2012 cassette Trick—bears a strong resemblance to Elliott Smith. Written at the end of Alex’s teenage years, the extremely vague “I don’t like how things change” lyric pretty much embodies everything scary about getting older (a feeling that doesn’t ever stop, it turns out).
“Kicker”
A rough album with bratty moments, Beach Music’s attempted innovations often fell a bit flat. Alex’s experimental inclinations are often what make individual songs special, but they didn’t work as the music’s driving force. The best song from Beach Music turned out to be the most traditional: “Kicker,” an electric upgrade to his basic rock framework, grooves deeply. The vocal recording is also excellent, with Alex’s staccato cadence adding an extra percussive edge.
“Adam”
This 2013 song seemingly about bullying, off a split 7” with R.L. Kelly, adds piano to the mix. Accompanied by deep tom hits, “Adam” initially skews dramatic until muted, amateur shredding gives way to an organ squeal. Maybe it’s unclear how all these elements cohere, but that’s part of the song’s appeal: all the things Alex tries over the course of many albums are smushed into another under two-minute track.
“Be Kind”
The only recording of this song appears to be a low-quality YouTube video of Alex performing it in a stairwell on acoustic guitar; amazingly, it has more than 100,000 views. Though the comments section would have you believe this is peak Alex G, what makes the clip striking is that it captures just how fertile his brain is. Akin to prolific peers like Frankie Cosmos, Alex tosses off solid track after solid track in a way that makes them almost expendable. Perhaps that’s partially attributable to a youthful attitude of focusing on the immediate, a constant desire for newness fostered through iPhone recordings and the like. Whatever the reason for his excess of material, Alex’s got so much good stuff that even the chaff is worth checking out.
“After UR Gone”
Really any song from 2014’s DSU could be on here. The album’s opener “After UR Gone” opens with a squeal of noise and closes with a pretty wicked guitar solo. In between, its mid-pace shuffle is propelled by drums that sound like wood being chopped. The album marked the first time a body of Alex G’s songs truly gelled. The recording is still lo-fi, so some of the more ambitious moments may pass by without drawing as much attention as they deserve.
“Nintendo 64”
Another unreleased track, “Nintendo 64” shows how powerful a take on suburban malaise Alex G can have. “My brother told me he’s gonna kill himself tonight/With a whole bottle of Prozac or a shiny kitchen knife/He said that when he’s dead I’ll have his Nintendo 64/And I can play it all night long sitting on the basement floor.” The high/low stakes seem like a real Raymond Carver take on teen sadness, which makes it an even more curious spot for some standout humming.
“Sandy”
In hindsight, listening to the exactitude of the guitar picking on this 2011 track feels like a young player striving for perfection, like peeking on the early figure drawings of an abstract master. “I just wanna grow up,” Alex repeats through the song’s ending. He did.