With his instinctual approach to music, Alex Giannascoli’s songs never end up sounding quite the same. Some are marked by a wistful sentimentality, like forgotten scriptures framed by solemn guitars; in others, he’s euphorically screeching atop a fuzzed-out soundscape, the vibrant haze swallowing his ambiguous lyrics. Alex G freely creates the kind of stuff his gut tells him, making for albums that feel simultaneously heartfelt, wacky, silly, and luminous.
It’s difficult to imagine this kind of artist shacking up with a major label, but that’s exactly what Giannascoli did in 2024 after signing with RCA Records. Headlights is his first release with RCA, one that many fans have waited for with bated breath. After all the beautiful anarchy of his last nine LPs, there were concerns: Is this the one where Alex G sells out? Giannascoli is aware of the fears. As he sings in the hypnotic “Beam Me Up”: “Some things I do for love, some things I do for money.” The question, then, is what category Headlights falls into.
Thankfully, the answer seems to be the former. The record is just as thoughtfully made as the rest of Alex G’s catalogue, but with an entire orchestra behind him. In his capable hands, bellowing accordions are layered atop fuzzed-out guitars, and eccentric pairings feel like effortless fusions. In other words, the support Giannascoli got from his label boosts his sound for the better. Some of the songs are perfectly fleshed out, and the album is at a higher fidelity than his previous efforts. Other tracks retain that DIY rawness, imperfections and all, but what would an Alex G record be without a couple of head-scratchers? Plus, while other projects have had a heavy, ambiguous lean, Headlights is full of personal anecdotes and meshes the idyllic, old country twang of Rocket with the solemn warmth of Beach Music. Alex G has stepped into another caliber of rock, and he’s taking his transition seriously.
Take, for example, the battle of opposing dispositions in the wistful opener “June Guitar”: A cymbal twinkles gently at the start, ushering in ethereal synths and a cohort of acoustic guitars. Bass, keyboard, and bongos wash over Giannascoli’s warm vocals, as he yearns after happier days with the “red head” no longer living life beside him. “Love ain’t for the young anyhow / Something that you learn from fallin’ down / Don’t make me,” he sings, the accordion soon carrying away his fears of ever having to love again. If the accordion wasn’t enough of a happy surprise, a mandolin introduces the upbeat “Afterlife,” a welcome switch from the bittersweetness of the first two songs. The narrative here is empowering at heart—an ode to the life you start living after realizing you’ve only got one—and the instrumentals add a sparkly sheen on top. “When the light came / big and bright / I began another life,” Giannascoli sings, the childlike imagery framed by organelle. He’s “not an angel,” but he’s freer than he once was, now living “In between / Heaven and the TV screen.”
Things start to get a little dicey on “Spinning,” a track that is just as overwhelming as its title. Rife with driving guitars and odd string lines, heavy electronics, and electric guitars, it’s the most ramshackle effort on the album thus far, despite all its varied textures. The slowcore track “Louisiana” features a similar interplay of distorted guitars and searing vocals. Alex G’s signature high-vocal effects are a throughline, while the volume of the instrumentals ebbs and intensifies. “Louisiana wild and free, the only one who wanted me,” he sings. But it falls just short of connection. While the slacker-rock energy lulls you into a satisfying stupor, the looped instrumentals get tired fast.
Headlights picks up speed once more with the energy and fuzzed-out sounds of “Bounce Boy,” a song that makes you grit your teeth with its scratchy hyper-processedness. Melodic guitars ground the piece, making for a balanced fusion of experimental noise and structure. The album slides into a country realm, with twangy guitars and spoons setting the foundation for the playful “Oranges,” which is just as vibrant as its title. “Wash in the river with the one I love / every good thing with a little bad luck,” Giannascoli sings, peaceful and idyllic. The pastoral vibes conclude with “Far and Wide,” a song I initially assumed had a featured vocalist—but no: It’s Alex G trading his warm tones and high-pitched effects for a broken, spoken sound. “I’ve searched far and wide for a place like this, now I can close my eyes,” he sings, his tender lyrics and vocals giving the song a similar vibe to Kermit the Frog’s “Rainbow Connection.” Complete with a children’s chorus and an orchestra, it trips into sea shanty territory. “Is It Still You In There,” an oddly affecting ballad built on eccentric piano, has a similar sound. “Is there nothing left between the world and you?” the children sing, as light percussion bolsters the delicate piano lines, bringing a bluesy tilt to the off-kilter chords.
While the rest of the album was written, played, and recorded by Alex G alone, with help from producer Jacob Portrait, “Logan Hotel (Live)” was recorded with his touring band: guitarist Sam Acchione, bassist John Heywood, and drummer Tom Kelly. With their backing, Alex G takes a look at the life of a traveling musician: “I’ve been on the road for a long time. I’m about to lose my mind. Once you get the feeling you got two lives, well now you got to pick a side,” he sings, as the collaborative energy builds. Alex G stepped away from a DIY sound and into loftier spaces with his last album, 2022’s God Save the Animals. Three years later, Headlights makes the argument that his confidence has never been greater. These songs sound like they were created with love for every version of Alex G: past, present, and future.
