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May 16, 2025 Web Exclusive By Mark Moody

The Dan Wriggins-fronted ensemble Friendship is back for their fifth album and second since signing with Merge. Ever adjacent to his compadres at Dear Life Records, Jon Samuels (MJ Lenderman), Peter Gill (2nd Grade), and Michael Cormier (Hour) are the players that flesh out the sound on Caveman Wakes Up. And flesh it out they do. When the band fully gels on songs like the latter half of “Wildwood in January,” “Resident Evil,” and “Tree of Heaven,” the album reaches its most elevated moments.

“Tree of Heaven” brilliantly encapsulates the isolated feeling of being outside of church on a Sunday morning. “I will always recall, voices of the choir, breaching the walls,” Wriggins intones while the band provides a martial stomp interlaced with an atonal violin line. The sense of living outside of the word is palpable in those moments. “Resident Evil” is the standout track, with guitars that poke and prod at the melody, à la Neil Young’s Crazy Horse, and intermittently give way to short bursts of feedback. “Never dreamed I’d end up here, never dreamed what I would do to stay alive,” emotes an appropriate level of dread in lockstep with the song’s instrumentation. Whether “who’s that shithead in my living room, playing Resident Evil?” has any intent at humor or not it makes for a compelling punch line.

Wriggins’ unvarnished baritone can take some getting used to. Like an urbanized James McMurtry, Wriggins’ vocals carry a boomy gravitas such that every line is fully heard. Many of his songs find the common man wrestling with the crush of the mundane. So lines like “felt the beating heart of God, laying down a roll of sod,” on the draggy “All Over the World” land bluntly. Likewise, “Free Association” and the following “Hollow Skulls” deal in the drudgery of the day to day. “I used to have someone, she would get home from work, we’d put something on, and complain about work,” goes “Free Association.” The doubling down on “work” makes its own joyless point. But even if misery loves company, like the bar in the song, some of these tracks make for a rough place to hang out through repeated listens.

Better is the bass heavy bop of “Love Vape,” where Wriggins’ imagery of the real life Philly smoke shop breathes life into the song. “They still give you plastic bags, and the rolling shutters covered in tags,” he sings over a brighter melody. Similar to songs off of 2022’s Love the Stranger, like “St. Bonaventure” and “Chomp Chomp,” the messages may be serious, but the music provides for a dose of respite. In part, Caveman Wakes Up comes down to how you like your cup of reality served. Black and bitter or with a dash of restraint. (www.friendshipphl.bandcamp.com)

Author rating: 6.5/10