The Current presents

Snail Mail and Soccer Mommy

with Brennan Wedl

Doors 6:00 p.m. | Show 6:30 p.m. | All Ages

INFORMATION | TICKETS

Snail Mail

On Ricochet, her third album as Snail Mail, Lindsey Jordan returns to assert herself as a generational songwriter, clear-eyed and honest as ever. Time has passed, but she remains a sensitive soul, and here her incisive introspection is tethered to newly expansive and hypnotic melodies and ornate string arrangements. While writing Ricochet, Jordan found herself fixating on concerns she’d previously pushed out of her mind, namely death and what happens after. These 11 songs are colored by the anxiety of watching life slip through your fingers, as well as the vulnerability of loving deeply rather than frenetically. Ultimately, Ricochet is an album about realizing—and accepting—that the world still turns no matter what is going on in your tiny life.

Ricochet is the first Snail Mail album in five years, and a lot has happened in the interim. Before touring 2021’s Valentine around the world, Jordan had surgery for vocal polyps. She underwent intensive speech therapy and emerged as a more confident vocalist—on Ricochet, Jordan wields newfound control over her voice, ironically enough for an album about uncertainty. She made her acting debut in Jane Schoenbrun’s indie horror I Saw the TV Glow, playing a Buffy-esque heroine with psychic powers. She moved out of New York, floated around for a bit, and landed in the area around Greensboro, North Carolina. She’s 26 and has a fluffy white puffball of a dog, whom she holds up to the night sky so she can see the stars.

All the while, Jordan was working on new music. She tried to write quickly— “which obviously didn’t work” —but with intention, aiming not to leave any material on the cutting room floor. “I've never done this before, but I wrote all of the instrumentals and vocal melodies on the piano or guitar, and then I filled in the lyrics all at once over a year,” Jordan says. “It takes me a lot more time and consideration to make great melodies than it does trying to connect things lyrically, so I gave myself more time to do the one.”

When it came time to record the songs bouncing around in her head, Jordan turned to a friend, Aron Kobayashi Ritch, the bassist and producer of the fuzzy indie rock band Momma. In winter 2025, they made Ricochet at North Carolina’s Fidelitorium Recordings, owned by R.E.M. producer Mitch Easter, and the Nightfly and Studio G in Brooklyn. Jordan describes the process as refreshing, trusting, and comfortable. “I felt like an equal voice,” she says. “He was as interested in my decisions as I was in his.”

Soccer Mommy

Sophie Allison has always written candidly about her life, making Soccer Mommy one of indie rock’s most interesting and beloved artists of the last decade. Allison has used Soccer Mommy’s songs as a vehicle to sort through the thoughts and encounters that inevitably come with the reality of growing up. After all, Soccer Mommy began as a bedroom-to-Bandcamp exercise with teenage Allison posting her plaintive songs as demos. Over the years, though, she has often enhanced that sound, using the endless production possibilities, newly at her fingertips, to outstrip singer-songwriter stereotypes. The records would start with songwriting’s kernels of truth, and she would then imagine all the unexpected shapes they could take. Every Soccer Mommy record has felt like a surprise.

On Soccer Mommy’s fourth album, the tender but resolute Evergreen, Allison is again writing about her life. But that life’s different these days: Since making her previous album, 2022’s Sometimes, Forever, Allison experienced a profound and also very personal loss. New songs emerged from that change, unflinching and sometimes even funny reflections on what she was feeling. (Speaking of funny, this is a Soccer Mommy album, so there’s an ode to Allison’s purple-haired wife in the game Stardew Valley, too.) These songs were, once again, Allison’s way to sort through life, to ground herself. She wanted them to sound that way, too, to feel as true to the demos—raw and relatable, unvarnished and honest—as possible. The songwriting would again lead where the production would follow. Nothing overindulgent, everything real.

Brennan Wedl

Brennan Wedl documents those dizzying years spent in the world of ‘twenty-something’. Her radically unvarnished accounts detail an expansive universe that interweaves the everyday with scenes that might include catholic church camps, various awakenings, one-night stands, or collapsed ‘forever’ relationships. The result? An eminently relatable catalog of moments when profound realizations arrive unexpectedly.

While she has been steadily releasing poignant dispatches as a solo artist since 2012, in 2024 she took a striking step forward with a new series of singles. These recordings capture Wedl at her most unbounded and creatively impulsive; delivering sweetly lilting country one minute, and crashing rock the next, ringing out with jangling brightness at times and introspective in hushed acoustic guitar picking elsewhere.

This impulsiveness is something that Wedl wrestles with daily. Much of her material is indirectly inspired by her quest to live simply after the realization that she couldn’t live the life she wanted when drugs and alcohol were involved. However, in a move that is definitive of her approach, she explodes this specific experience into an allegory of life at large. Central is her tug of war between moderation and hedonism. A battle that she may, in any instant, apply to intoxicants, relationships, spirituality, sexual liberty, and beyond. The bubbling undercurrent throughout is a commitment to find comfort in restraint.

Wedl’s knack for encapsulating the moment has been apparent since the success of the queercore band Dazey & The Scouts she co-founded in 2015. The four-piece had a viral resurgence in 2020 as a new audience found themselves drawn to the group’s unapologetic message, and online lore of their sole album.

With a pivotal self-titled debut album due next year, Brennan Wedl proves that she remains viscerally attached to her emotional core and an acutely gifted narrator of life’s highs and lows.