Wednesday

A song by WEDNESDAY is like a quilt. A short story collection, a blur of memories, a patchwork quilt of portraits of the American South that captures disparate moments and yet somehow makes sense as a whole. Karly Hartzman, the songwriter, singer, guitarist and director of the project, is a story collector as well as a storyteller: a keen observer of people and witty remarks. "Rat Saw God," the Asheville quintet's new and best album (out April 2023 on Dead Oceans / Secretly / Cargo), is ekphrastic, but equally autobiographical and, above all, very insightful.

"Rat Saw God" is an album about a bike ride through a Greensboro suburb while listening to MY BLOODY VALENTINE on your iPod Nano for the first time. Passing a creek running through the neighborhood littered with broken glass bottles and condoms. A front yard full of broken and rusted car parts, a lonely and dilapidated house reclaimed by climbing plants. The way the South vibrates with vibrancy in summer and into fall, the sound of high school football games from afar, the halo effect of lights polluting the darkness. Not bright enough to make out anything in front of you, but right in that part of the pitch black void, you can - somehow - see everything.

After selling out their show at Berlin's Schokoladen (May 27) within days of going on pre-sale, Wednesday will be back in Berlin this fall, presented by Rolling Stone, MusikBlog and ByteFM.

"Wednesday make rock music to which Tom Petty rises." (Zeit Online)