Half Stack - Wings of Love (2020) Hi-Res

Highways, cars, guitars, bars, place names…anyone who is even passingly familiar with American rock music knows these topics well as the outlets and refuges of guitar guys who are trying to find themselves, lose themselves, or just feel alright. But what happens when getting in the old Camaro and driving down the highway with no destination in mind just doesn’t quite do it anymore? On their new album Wings of Love, Oakland’s Half Stack tackle the anxieties, tough choices, and regret that can accompany what at a shallow glance seems to be a careless twenty-something California drifterhood.

Half Stack’s cowboy indie is heartfelt and simple, ambling yet tight, with an earnest and (at least sonically) carefree quality that feels distinctly West Coast. Wings of Love is a crisp half-hour, and each of the ten tracks here is a perfect slice of bittersweet Americana. Nearly every song features highways or trains, and the often tongue-in-cheek simplicity in the lyrics (like rhyming “beers,” “fears,” and “years” in “Bonnie”) is absolutely charming. The wry observations and almost-epiphanies drawled out while just clinging to the tune often recall Bay Area neighbors Sonny and the Sunsets.

The tunes and quips here bring an easy grin, but listening closely reveals themes that are more minor-key. The track that really sums it up is “Tommy Sweet,” which details the confusion after assessing your life and not being thrilled with what you find: “I stayed out West, hedged all my bets, but I don’t feel fun anymore,” sings frontman Peter Kegler, “When I was young, I felt it all. Now I’d like to let some things go. Take some time, find a reason to grow.” Much of Wings of Love deals with feeling a need to grow up without really knowing what that means and trying to do what’s right but always falling a little short, all while discovering that marathoning beers at the corner watering hole or sleeping it off doesn’t help like it used to.

All of that isn’t to say that there isn’t still some joy to be found in hitting the highway, especially with a sweetheart in the passenger seat or a way out of a tired routine at the end of the road. There’s no ambiguity in the quintessentially-California single “Laguna Seca,” and if you’ve been lucky enough to drive that gorgeous stretch of Highway One south of Santa Cruz mentioned in the song, it’s easy to see why you could forget about all the bullshit that usually occupies your mind as you speed past the cliffs.