Chasing Fridays: Cigarettes for Breakfast, Nicolas Jaar, Mojave 3, more

I spent a lot of time this week thinking about the utility of music criticism in the present day. That's something I already spend a lot of brain power mulling over, but I was especially fixated on it this week while I contemplated whether or not I should publish one of the below reviews. When I committed to regularly posting on Chasing Sundays almost one year ago, it was right after I had quit my job at a major music publication where I felt my critical voice – my taste, my judgment, what I believe a piece of music says or doesn't say about the context it exists in – was being undervalued. The neutering of the opinionated, nuanced music critic is an industry-wide problem, not something that was unique to the place where I was employed. But one of the principles I founded this blog on was that real, unfiltered music criticism still matters. That not only is unbiased writing paramount to a healthy critical discourse, but that knowing when a critic loves, likes, dislikes, or hates something is what makes their perspective worth reading.

Even when I'm writing with a jokey tone, I take what I publish on this blog very seriously. I put a lot of consideration into how I frame my opinions on the music I cover, and I go out of my way to cover music that I like and dislike, because I think doing so is necessary to establishing my credibility. The praise I bestow upon one record carries no weight if there aren't any stakes. If my readers expect that everything I post on here is going to be positive, then why even bother reading what I have to say? You're better off just listening to a playlist at that point. My goal with this site is to foster the sort of trust with my readers where, even if they disagree vehemently with what I'm saying, they can at least know that what I'm saying is real. That I'm not afraid to speak my mind if I dislike something that everyone else seems to enjoy. That if I go to bat for a band, it's because I honestly think they deserve to be heard. What the musicians are like as people or who their label is or how much money they're paying their publicist has no bearing on how I write about their music here.

In the age of Spotify payola and stan bases wielding influence over what gets covered (and how it's covered) in the click-driven music press, that's not a common approach. I'm a little old-school in that sense, and I always appreciate hearing from my readers who take my less-than-positive praise in good faith. Who come to me specifically because I'm willing to weigh in on something whether I believe it's good or bad. That's what I did with this week's Chasing Fridays column and that's what I'll continue to do every week going forward, even if it earns me some flack in my IG dms. As always, I couldn't keep this site running without the support from my subscribers who toss me $5/month, which gives you access to the paywalled segment of Chasing Fridays, and other premium portions throughout the site. To everyone who contributes, I'm sincerely grateful. Especially those who'll continue supporting me even though they disagree with what you're about to read down below 😃

Cigarettes for Breakfast - Slow Motion

Didn't we do this already? Didn't we already live through a decade (the 2000s) of suitable yet uninventive My Bloody Valentine worship? ​Didn't we already decide that LSD and the Search For God and Fleeting Joys would get a pass for it because, at that time, we were just happy to take what we could get? Back then, we weren't living through the most prolific period in shoegaze history. A time when a gazillion active bands are rearranging the genre's puzzle pieces into wacky,​ exciting, inventive, and yes, sometimes ugly, new configurations. In 2007, there was so little shoegaze happening that pastiche actually served a necessary function. In 2025, what purpose does blatant regurgitation of the most regurgitated band in shoegaze actually serve?

I'm flummoxed that Cigarettes for Breakfast's new album, Slow Motion, appears to be the most celebrated shoegaze release of 2025 ​​so far. Every shoegaze lover on my feed is singing its praises, with some even calling it better than the new Whirr record (a telling sign of where the wind is shifting). In some respects, I can understand why luxuriously produced trad-gaze has a built-in audience. Speaking purely about its production and sonic density, Slow Motion is an impressive feat. In hardcore, we use the word "pro-core" to describe music that's transparently trying to appeal to a sleeker, more casual hardcore ear. This is pro-gaze. I'm by no means opposed to shoegaze that sounds labored over and expensive, but here, I'm using "pro-gaze" to delineate between Cigarettes for Breakfast's bland conformity and the bevy of fresher, weirder, cooler young shoegaze bands who are justifying the genre's ongoing buzz.

Several things about Cigarettes for Breakfast – who, again, seem poised for genuine popularity, so I don't feel like I'm punching down here, just administering some basic quality control – make me groan. First off: terrible band name. Second off: ​painfully uninspired cover art. Third off: I hope these guys are lawyered up, because Kevin Shields and Co. could probably sue (isfine...heh) for some of the MBV colonization that's going on here. The first song's opening snare cracks are an un-subtle ode to "Only Shallow," which would be forgivable homage in isolation. However, Slow Motion's title track doesn't just wink at "Soon," it literally affixes the damn-near exact chord progression to its glide guitar surge and baggy beat. I actually had to check the song title on my phone the first time I heard it​ to make sure it wasn't a cover. ​​​

"Lift" is, well, lifting the stardust speckles and moaning glide-guitars of "To Here Knows When," and once again cutting it dangerously close to the identical chord progression of the source material. ​​​If it wasn't so obvious about its influence then I'd have an easier time appreciating the squiggles of reverse reverb ​that fracture the main riff like hairline pressure cracks on a windshield. The song "Goodbye" also apes the breathy huffs of "To Here Knows When," but here, the band add just enough of their own character – clean-ish vocals, a scalding layer of feedback – to at least ward off accusations of plagiarism. I'm not naïve enough to expect wholesale innovation from every working shoegaze band, and I love a good MBV nod when it's done well. These songs, however, strike me as far more than just humble offerings of respect to shoegaze's Olympians. There was way too much Loveless a/b-ing going down during Slow Motion's creation, and I find it difficult to see these tracks as anything more than competent tributes to a record that could never be beaten at its own game.

Not every song on Slow Motion rubs me the wrong way. "Solitaire" picks up its sprinty sullen-ness from Nothing's "Bent Nail," but incorporates a glide guitar motif that wobbles at the speed of a humming bird's wings, adding a quirky flicker of motion to its careening riff. "Numb the Pain" cuts a bit too close to Cole Smith's Deceiver voice during the verses, but the hook is catchy as hell and the lead lick that carries the melody to the song's conclusion is gorgeous. On songs like those, I can hear Cigarettes for Breakfast finding an identity of their own – one that lives somewhere in the liminal space between tru and nu-gaze. Unfortunately, not every venture beyond MBV's fiefdom is quite as fruitful. "Mesmerized" is saddled with hokey trem parts, a cloyingly saccharine vocal delivery, and facepalm-inducing lyrics ("mesmerized, by your eyes/voice from the sky") that read like a parody of shoegaze's most half-baked clichés.

We're living through a bountiful time for shoegaze. If this record was presented to me during a shoegaze dust bowl (2007, for instance), ​​​I'd drink it down happily. In 2025, Slow Motion feels like bringing a spray bottle to a water park. Sure, a spritz to the face is nice, but why wouldn't I just jump in the wave pool?

Glixen - Quiet Pleasures

Glixen are everything I want from a modern shoegaze band. I already articulated why I feel that way in my recent Stereogum profile, but I'll just reiterate here that Quiet Pleasures, their new EP, sets the bar for blending tru and nu gaze (that's classic textures/melodies with contemporary heaviness/style). The singles were great, but it's the instrumental closing song, "shut me down," that really sold me. It's not so much a wall, but a fortress, of guitars that has their strength tested by the quaking, battering-ram drums. There's so much sooty, granular texture in these tracks, and Aislinn Ritchie's pixie-goth murmurs nestle so effortlessly into the din of noise without ever feeling overpowered by it. No gimmicks, no cosplay, no cornball bullshit, Glixen know exactly who they are on Quiet Pleasures, and its chicly crushing sound has me excited for their future.

Nicolas Jaar - Piedras 1 and 2

I finally got around to listening to Nicolas Jaar's pair of 2024 albums this weekend, Piedras 1 and 2. I'm a huge Nicolas Jaar fan and I'm embarrassed that it took me so long to sit down and digest these. The first record is housey and tropical, with far more singing and summery pop flourishes than most of Jaar's previous joints. The house music he's released under his Against All Logic alias is some of my favorite music ever, but I wasn't vibing with the muggy club songs on Piedras 1. I much prefer the assortment of darker sounds of Piedras 2, which feels like an encapsulation of Jaar's entire career thus far. It's got the shadowy down-tempo of 2011's Space Is Only Noise, the arid ambience of 2020's Cenizas, and even the gritty industrial house of Against All Logic's 2017-2019. ​​The album's final suite ("SSS" 1, 2, and 3) is some of the best dance music he's ever made, and the way the whole record builds to that finale – beginning with some gorgeous trails of gloomy minimalism – is simply majestic. Jaar remains at the top of his game.

Holder - holder

I've been hooked on this EP from Western Mass metalcore newbies Holder. I think I gave it a cursory spin when it dropped on Ephyra last summer, but it was some recent live footage I saw on Instagram that convinced me to go back and hear what I missed. I'm pretty picky about my metalcore (no cleans, no gloss, no ambition beyond making hardcore kids windmill) and holder meets that criteria without sounding like a direct rehash of Ephyra's best bands (Balmora, Azshara, Nomad). Like Ted Williams and Kicked in the Head By A Horse, Holder strike a delicate balance between screamo angst and mosh-combat anger. The knuckle-beating breakdowns are threaded with noodlier, stormier screamo sections that give the tunes emotional dimension without impeding on their sense of urgency and utility in the live setting. Bonus points to Holder for scrounging up that priceless cover art, which feels destined to take on a life of its own outside of the band.

Subscribe to Chasing Sundays for $5/month to continue reading the final segment of each Chasing Fridays column, where I go in on an older record that I've recently been spending time with.

Mojave 3 - Ask Me Tomorrow