Columbus Ohio Music

We could have easily titled this column ‘Making Sense of It All: The Kyle Sowashes and the Enduring Power of Indie Rock Honesty,’ because the band’s new record not only showcases their musical growth but also highlights how their plainspoken sincerity continues to resonate in a genre often crowded with irony and affectation.

Independent rock has long thrived on the margins—small rooms, frayed gear, and bands that carve out meaning from the ordinary. Few groups embody this spirit as honestly and as energetically as The Kyle Sowashes, the long-running Columbus, Ohio outfit centered around singer, guitarist, and songwriter Kyle Sowash. Their terrific new record, Start Making Sense, feels both like a culmination of years of steady work and a refreshed sense of purpose. It is an album that sounds lived-in yet ambitious, familiar yet surprisingly expansive.

Like so many of their releases, it is driven by a collaborative band spirit, anchored by Sowash’s unmistakable songwriting voice. But on Start Making Sense, the musicians around him play an especially notable role. This is not merely a collection of songs written by a single songwriter—it is a group effort in the best sense, marked by thoughtful arrangements, spirited performances, and a chemistry that can only develop after years of making music together. The result is a record that feels warm, wry, cathartic, and deeply human.

A Band Made of People, Not Parts

The Kyle Sowashes have always been a band that foregrounds musicianship over mythology. No one is placed on a pedestal; every member shapes the sound. On Start Making Sense, the interplay among the musicians is central to what makes the record feel so alive.

At the center, of course, is Kyle Sowash, the principal songwriter, guitarist, and narrator of the band’s emotional landscape. His style has always blended self-deprecation with sincerity, humor with frustration, resignation with hope. He writes songs the way people talk when they’ve stopped trying to impress anyone. That honesty, paired with a gift for sticky melodies and driving chord progressions, continues to anchor the band.

But the supporting cast expands and elevates the material. The rhythm section, always a strength for the group, is especially tight on this release. The basslines give songs bounce and propulsion, while the drumming adds both momentum and nuance—capable of big-room punch but also subtle shifts in tone that mirror Sowash’s lyrical turns. Together they give the album its shape: urgent when needed, contemplative when the songs pull inward.

The guitar arrangements, too, show a band deeply comfortable playing with space. There are moments of noisy celebration, fuzzed-out riffs, and guitar lines that nod to 90s indie rock and power pop without ever feeling derivative. But there is also restraint when the songs call for it—arpeggiated lines, single-note phrases, and open-chord patterns that accent Sowash’s vocal pacing. The band understands when to push and when to stay out of the way, and that mutual sensitivity is one of the record’s quiet triumphs.

All of this makes Start Making Sense feel less like a front-person project and more like a snapshot of a genuine musical community. The band members are collaborators—not session players—and the record reflects that shared vision.

Sound: An Indie Rock Dial Tuned Just Right

The defining pleasure of listening to The Kyle Sowashes is the feeling that the band knows exactly who they are and that they approach their sound not as a limitation but as an expressive engine. Start Making Sense follows this tradition, delivering songs that are rooted in classic indie rock but refreshed through craft, energy, and emotional clarity.

The album’s guitar-forward sound recalls the big-hearted crunch of bands like Superchunk, The Weakerthans, early Guided by Voices, and 90s midwestern basement rock. But The Kyle Sowashes are not imitators. Their tone is warmer, their pacing more deliberate, their hooks more conversational. They capture what it feels like to be a functional adult who still carries adolescent anxieties; what it feels like to want to grow but not always know how.

The production strikes a careful balance. It is clean enough to reveal the band’s tight musicianship but raw enough to preserve the lived-in charm that defines their identity. The vocals are present but never over-polished; the guitars are textured but not overly layered; the drums have a live-room feel that makes even the more introspective songs sound communal.

This approach is particularly effective because Sowash’s songwriting thrives on immediacy. These songs feel like they were meant to be played in small rooms full of people who understand what it’s like to try, fail, and try again. The sonic palette—guitars that jangle and buzz, drums that sprint and shuffle, bass that grounds and guides—mirrors the emotional palette of the songs themselves.

What the Lyrics Reveal: Vulnerability Without Pretension

What has always separated Kyle Sowash from many of his indie rock peers is his ability to write lyrics that feel like real conversations. He avoids metaphors that spin out into abstraction and instead leans on the everyday: the tension between optimism and exhaustion, the mundane rhythms of adulthood, the stubborn persistence of doubt.

On Start Making Sense, the lyrics feel particularly pointed. There is a thematic thread running through the record about wanting to take stock of one’s life, wanting to be better (or at least different), but also feeling the tug of old habits or long-held insecurities. This tension animates the album emotionally.

Sowash wrestles with questions familiar to anyone who has lived long enough to feel the weight of their own decisions:

Am I becoming the person I hoped to be?
Am I letting people down without realizing it?
Is it too late to make meaningful changes?
Why does clarity arrive when I am least prepared for it?

And yet, the writing never lapses into self-pity. Sowash has a rare talent for pairing difficult emotions with flashes of humor or casual understatement. His delivery—half earnest, half exasperated—adds to this effect. Even in the most introspective moments, he trusts his audience. He doesn’t sermonize or hide behind dense metaphor. He simply tells the truth as he sees it.

The Album as a Whole: Why Start Making Sense Works

The strength of the record lies not just in its individual songs but in its overall narrative arc. Start Making Sense feels like a journey, not in a conceptual or theatrical sense, but in the emotional progression from beginning to end.

The early tracks tend to have a forward-thrusting, energetic urgency—songs filled with questions, doubts, and attempts to find clarity. As the album unfolds, the pacing shifts: there are moments of introspection, acceptance, humor, resignation, and renewed commitment.

By the final songs, the album arrives somewhere quieter and more grounded. The narrator has not solved everything—far from it—but there is a sense of movement, of incremental progress. And that sense is arguably more meaningful than any dramatic revelation would be.

This emotional pacing mirrors the band’s musical pacing. The guitars pull back when the lyrics sink deeper; the rhythm section tightens when the narrator feels unsettled; the arrangements widen when Sowash leans into hopeful refrains. The band listens to the songs, and the songs reward that attention.

Why They Matter Now

There is something profoundly refreshing about hearing a band like The Kyle Sowashes release a record like Start Making Sense in 2025. In a music culture where so many albums are shaped by algorithms, trends, or online personas, this record feels defiantly human. It is made by musicians who value craft, community, and honesty over spectacle.

Moreover, the themes of Start Making Sense—struggle, ambivalence, small victories, persistent hope—resonate in a cultural moment marked by fatigue and uncertainty. Many listeners will hear echoes of their own lives in the record: the feeling of trying to recalibrate when everything seems slightly off; the desire to “start making sense” of things that once felt straightforward.

The album does not promise transformation or transcendence. Instead, it offers companionship—a reminder that confusion and self-questioning are universal, and that music can help make sense of things even when life does not.

A Career Highlight and a Quiet Triumph

Start Making Sense stands as one of The Kyle Sowashes’ most affecting and best-crafted albums. It blends the energy of earlier records with a deeper emotional palette; it shows a band confident in its identity yet open to growth. The musicianship is sharp, the lyrics are resonant, and the sound manages to be both comfortingly familiar and subtly evolved.

It is not merely a strong indie rock record—it is a document of adulthood, of persistence, of reassessment, of trying again. In its modesty, it finds profundity; in its humor, it finds catharsis; in its unvarnished honesty, it finds connection. For longtime fans, Start Making Sense will feel like a natural and satisfying next chapter. For new listeners, it offers a compelling introduction to a band that has quietly built one of the most sincere bodies of work in Midwestern indie rock. And for everyone, it offers something increasingly rare: a rock album that makes you feel less alone.

Amidst the echoing corridors of indie rock, there lies a trove of hidden gems that, despite their immense talent, have managed to elude the mainstream spotlight. Smug Brothers, a band hailing from both Dayton and Columbus, Ohio, has been one of these underappreciated treasures for over two decades. Their latest release, “In The Book of Bad Ideas,” is a testament to their unyielding passion and unwavering commitment to their craft. In this album, they’ve harnessed the raw power of indie rock ‘n’ roll, crafting gritty and honest music that resonates with anyone who has a heartbeat.

“In The Book of Bad Ideas” is not a record that pleads for your attention; it demands it. The record saunters into the room with a vibe that is warm, welcoming, and inviting. The album opens with the sweet swirling, jangly track “Lullaby.” Right from the first note, you’re thrust into a world of jangly guitars and unapologetic vocals — the song is a slide of authenticity. There’s a sense of urgency and swing in this song that sets the tone for the entire album.

Frontman, guitarist, and songwriter, Kyle Melton, is a gifted storyteller who possesses a voice that simultaneously conveys vulnerability and strength. As he sings it’s evident that the lyrics come from a place of honesty, making it easy for the listener to connect with the music on a personal level even when clever wordplay might hide the destination. Sometimes the fun elliptical mystery is more compelling than an obvious statement.

The Smug Brothers have cultivated a sound that’s refreshingly rebellious within the sonics of an indie rock attack — imagine Guided By Voices with a hint of R.E.M., a pinch of Swearing at Motorists at a lo-fi house on the corner. Tracks like “Pattern Caveat” and “Mistaken for Stars” are indie anthems, amplified by the band’s masterful use of distortion and reverb. Guitarists Kyle Melton and Scott Trimble churn out a jangle pattern riff after riff with an infectious intensity that keeps a loose enjoyment. Their synergy is evident, and they create a wall of sound that engulfs the listener.

The rhythm section, comprised of bassist Kyle Sowash and Dayton music legend, drummer Don Thrasher, is the heartbeat of the album. The band’s relentless energy is anchored by their solid groove, which is particularly prominent in tracks like “Mistaken for Stars,” “Let Me Know When It’s Yes,” “Since the First Time I Heard You Laugh” and “Sudden Berlin.” They are the backbone upon which the edifice of Smug Brothers’ sound stands. The percussion, in particular, jumps out on this record set against the chiming, shimmering guitar cadences over which Melton sings with restrained passion — always vulnerable, confident, and reflective.

While the Smug Brothers are unapologetically rocking out, there’s a depth to their music that elevates them above mere noise-makers. The band demonstrates significant emotional depth and nuance across the album’s 15 tracks. “An Age in an Instant,” a melancholic ballad, showcases the band’s ability to slow down and embrace vulnerability without a sneer or nod to fiction. Nothing is pretense, everything matters. The lyrics convey a sense of introspection and longing, accompanied by beautifully understated guitar work that allows Melton’s voice to take center stage. The song works because of the high-intensity songs that come before it, especially “Enceladus Lexicon.”

“In The Book of Bad Ideas” is not just an album about decision-making whether it’s personal choices or the ideas of others. It’s also a meditation on the human condition. In tracks like “Nights in Other Worlds,” the band grapples with themes of regret and longing, painting a poignant picture of the emotional complexities of life. These introspective moments are the yin to the album’s shimmering yang.

One of the most captivating aspects of “In The Book of Bad Ideas” is how it manages to feel both contemporary and nostalgic simultaneously. It’s as if the band has dusted off classic rock’s blueprint and breathed new life into it. You can hear shades of influences from the likes of The Replacements, Guided By Voices, The Beatles, Swearing at Motorists, The Smiths, and even glimpses of the punk sensibility of The Clash. But Smug Brothers don’t merely replicate; they reinterpret, adding their own unique spin.

“Paradise Farms” — the last song on the record — is a standout track that exemplifies this fusion of old and new. The song feels like an homage to rock ‘n’ roll itself lyrically and musically. The song serves as both a tribute and a mission statement. It’s an invitation to rediscover the pure, real, unfiltered spirit of rock music, and the Smug Brothers make a compelling case that the past informs and shapes the present but does not dominate new ideas.

“In The Book of Bad Ideas” is not just a triumph of songwriting and performance but also of production. The album was expertly mixed by Melton, himself, whose experience as a prolific songwriter, guitarist, and singer allows him to bring a wealth of knowledge to the project. Melton has crafted a sonic landscape that’s powerful, vulnerable, and nuanced, allowing the subtleties of each instrument and Melton’s own vocals to shine brightly.

“In The Book of Bad Ideas” is more than an album; it’s a musical odyssey. From the indie rock anthems to the introspective ballads, this record takes you on a rollercoaster ride of emotions. It’s an album that can accompany you during moments of rebellion and introspection, making it an ideal soundtrack for life’s myriad experiences. While Smug Brothers may not be a household name, their music is a testament to the enduring power of indie rock. “In The Book of Bad Ideas” is the culmination of their years of dedication and a reminder that sometimes, the most authentic and heartfelt music can be found off the beaten path.

“In The Book of Bad Ideas” is a testament to the enduring spirit of rock ‘n’ roll. The Smug Brothers have crafted an album that’s equal parts rebellion and introspection, all while paying homage to the roots of the genre. This album isn’t just a collection of songs; it’s a powerful statement that demands to be heard.

In a world saturated with music that often feels manufactured, the Smug Brothers’ authenticity and passion shine through. Their willingness to embrace vulnerability and channel raw energy through a jangle-shimmering prism makes “In The Book of Bad Ideas” a remarkable achievement. So, take a journey with Smug Brothers and immerse yourself in their world. You won’t be disappointed. This album is, quite simply, the book of great ideas.