Post-Trash Facebook Post-Trash Twitter

Friko - "Something Worth Waiting For" | Album Review

Jess Makler (unslump.substack.com)

Friko’s latest record is a searing reflection on the never-ending nature of life’s mysteries. The Chicago band finds hope in constant motion, fighting through uncertainty to chase contentment while battling the ambiguous nature of the unknown. 

Out on ATO Records, the follow-up to Where we’ve been, Where we go from here continues the band’s evolution and contagious friendship. Nico Kapetan and Bailey Minzenberger have the acute ability to synthesize complex feelings and disappointments into poetry that seeps into your soul. Nostalgic and emotional, rich string arrangements complement Kapetan’s raw, unabashed vocal style. 

Recorded in two weeks under the guidance of producer John Congleton, the album echoes flavors of The Killers, Ezra Furman and Porridge Radio, with moments that build and shatter. The band focuses on themes of transportation, using trains, vans, and hot air balloons as inserts for listlessness and wandering confusion. 

Opening track “Guess” immediately defines the stakes of the album, introducing the listener to Friko’s signature all-encompassing sound. “Don't make me guess / If that's a cry or a laugh … Cause there's hardly enough in this world / To make us happy,” sings Kapetan. “Still Around” summons a Thom Yorke spirit, and “Choo Choo” literally chugs as Minzenberger hits the tambourine with a reckless vigor. “Chili dog, Philly steak, feelin' it in my gut / 'Cause Pepto, it don't do it strong enough!”

Lead single “Seven Degrees” brings this album to its peak. A slow burn in harmony and arrangement, Kapetan seems to be weeping into the microphone, the power in his voice heart wrenching as he muses on the six degrees of separation theory. The track is unfiltered, swept up from a different time and dressed in a Billy Joel-adjacent earnestness.

Friko’s latest is a well-worn photo on the mantle—it’s a true study in the powers of indie rock. Something Worth Waiting For is a bittersweet reflection on movement, and a reminder that even if you’re down, you’re never out.