No one paid too much attention when Jake Lenderman recorded Boat Songs, his third album released under his initials, MJ Lenderman. Before he cut it, after all, he was a 20-year-old guitarist working at an ice cream shop in his mountain hometown of Asheville, North Carolina, getting away for self-booked tours of his own songs or with the band he'd recently joined, Wednesday, whenever possible.
But as the pandemic took hold just as he turned 21, Lenderman enjoyed the sudden luxury of free time. Every day, he would read, paint, and write; every night, he and his roommates, bandmates, and best friends would drink and jam in their catawampus rental home, singing whatever came to mind over their collective racket. Some of those lines stuck around the next morning, slowly becoming 2021's self-made Ghost of Your Guitar Solo and then 2022's Boat Songs. With its barbed little jokes, canny sports references, and gloriously ragged guitar solos, Boat Songs became one of that year's biggest breakthroughs. Suddenly, people were paying a lot of attention to what Jake Lenderman might make next.
The answer was Manning Fireworks, recorded at Asheville's Drop of Sun during breaks from the road. Coproduced with pal and frequent collaborator Alex Farrar, Lenderman plays nearly every instrument on his fourth full-length and ANTI- debut, a remarkable development in his story as an incredibly incisive singer-songwriter, whose propensity for humor always points to some uneasy, disorienting darkness. Written in the wake of Boat Songs' breakthrough, the record finds Lenderman meeting rising expectations with frank introspection. Yes, the punchlines are still here, as are the rusted-wire guitar solos that have made Lenderman a favorite for indie rock fans looking for an emerging guitar hero. But there's a new sincerity, too.
Perhaps it's a good moment, then, to tell you more about Lenderman, as a person. Though he is in fact a basketball zealot from North Carolina (and a former two guard who once dropped 10 threes in a game), MJ is not a reference to Michael Jordan. His name is actually Mark Jacob Lenderman. His parents are heads who were going to Bonnaroo when he was a baby and, as he admits, know more about modern music than he does. Guitar Hero changed his life, leading him to obsessions with Jimi Hendrix and The Smashing Pumpkins. He began recording himself on his mom's laptop in fifth grade after discovering My Morning Jacket's roughshod early works. The lyrics started to come when he was a teenager.
His songs find the intersection of wit and sadness, routing self-doubt, world weariness, and everyday anxieties through rusted-wire guitar solos and uncanny imagery. Lenderman simply offers everyday enthusiasms and troubles in unexpected ways, emerging as an incredibly incisive singer-songwriter whose propensity for humor always points to some uneasy, disorienting darkness. Lenderman is still sorting through the kinds of songs he wants to write and remembering they can go anywhere he wants—much like they did back at those late-night house jams, no matter who is now looking.
