Alex G – Headlights

On the cover of Headlights, a child knight raises a sword to a full moon glowing through a cloud-cluttered night sky. It’s unclear whether it’s a pre-emptive gesture of battle, or a cry of victory. Looking to the heavens is something Alex Giannascoli has been doing a lot recently. In 2022, he gave what could be up there a name and asked for intervention – for the animals, and for himself. Now, he looks upwards again, for a sign, for the spiritual, the celestial, the extraterrestrial, reaching and yearning for what’s above and beyond.

As Giannascoli drills deeper into a refinement of his sound, rarely deviating from expectations, it’s these thematic differences, and the slight twisting of his now familiar songwriting, that continue to surprise. Afterlife is completely undeniable. That Alex G chord played on a mandolin, those airy bagpipe-like keys – channeling The Waterboys and breathing Celtic flourishes (see the accordion on June Guitar too) into anthems was not on the Alex G bingo card. Petition to have Afterlife replace Loch Lomond at Scottish weddings.

Headlights is the first Alex G album released on a major label. The paradox is that, for an artist like Alex G, that is a kind of disruption – as long as it doesn’t disrupt his art into an unwelcome smoothness. Alex G is long past being a representative for DIY bedroom recording; he’s far too big for that. But any worries should be dispelled by Headlights in the form of the only worthy barometer of whether Alex G is sticking to his guns: how many silly voices has he included here? Well, there’s Far and Wide, a kind of wistful serenade from the bough of a ship by Kermit the Frog (a Muppets movie with Alex G as the only human? Take my money!), or the pitch-shifted hyperpop of Bounce Boy.

Giannascoli continues to ring genuine emotion from strange affectations and modulation to change his singing voice. It makes when he sings pretty (Oranges) hit even harder. There are also two instances of a child choir, actual or imagined, which places Headlights in conversation with Knock Knock, Bill Callahan’s record as Smog, another collection of songs about a man on the lookout for what’s next (both albums also contain art depicting a single figure against the darkest blue of night). On the penultimate track, they sing: 'Is it still you in there? Could you love me anyway?' If these are questions about Alex G’s out of step place as a majors-backed artist with a massive following, the answer is yes.

Most surprising is how hopeful Headlights is. Giannascoli often steps into character in his songs, but on God Save the Animals, the line between Alexander Giannascoli and Alex G was blurrier than ever. He’s still attracted to down-and-outs (though nowhere does he ponder whether he’s a 'bad man' who has 'done a couple bad things'), but even they see a way out. On Beam Me Up, a struggling jock – who is 'on the rocks, threading needles' – vows to 'put that football way up in the sky', a Hail Mary for eternity. Like a UFO whisking you off on its rocket ship, salvation seems a universe away – but it could happen.

Listen to: Afterlife, Louisiana, Headlights