“I was, by no means, good friends with her but we were certainly more than acquaintances,” says Mark Waldoch of Milwaukee-based indie rock band THE HALLELUJAH WARD about fellow artist, the late Mimi Parker of the band Low. “I was a longtime fan.” Their new single “Nobody’s Ghost” stands as a tribute to Parker whose music and memory moved him to pen a song for her. Taken from their upcoming album Everybody Swoons (release date: May 30, 2025 via Foreign Leisure Records), the track is a mournful waltz, its grief and sorrow bleeds through Waldoch’s plaintive vocals. “I went to her funeral with Josh [Modell, co-founder of Foreign Leisure Records]. Some lyrics were inspired by that experience.”
Part of a recurring theme throughout the record, “Nobody’s Ghost” is a plaintive reminder of mortality and the fragility of life. “I guess it’s just a song about what we are when we’re gone and what grief is or what it can mean,” he explains.
While the subject matter is doleful, Waldoch balances out the sorrow with adulation for the impact Parker had, offering the lyrics “You garden the grief back into the ground / but what the hell did you do with all the love you have found?”
“Nobody’s Ghost” is the follow-up single to “Your Uncertain Shadow,” which itself was a memorial for the late Scott Hutchison of Frightened Rabbit. “I never knew Scott Hutchison,” he says. “His passing was just the impetus of the beginning of the song. His death hit me at a particularly tough time and I was actually able to channel that into some music… the artist’s cliche.”
But Everybody Swoons isn’t a mournful record. Its somber topics are often balanced out with vibrant indie rock and indie pop, with hints of the music that inspired him, such as The Cure, Siouxsie & the Banshees, the Smiths, R.E.M., the Velvet Underground, and Love and Rockets. Joined with drummer Dan Didier (The Promise Ring, Maritime) and bassist Paul Hancock (Testa Rosa), The Hallelujah Ward embraces its influences with gusto, creating a mix that is potent and familiar without being derivative. “Social Grace” (“My idea of a rom-com in modern indie-rock form in just under 5 minutes”) is pure disaffected bliss– the kind that would make Morrissey and Jarvis Cocker proud. The driving “Manageable Oblivion” chimes with a propulsive muscular rhythm section that highlights Waldoch’s lyrics, describing “a modern person’s disillusionment at the world living in a one-horse town.” The album closer “Back of the Line” is a defiant rebuttal for those who don’t reciprocate. “You never used to rely on your pride to bag a good time / You never used to refrain from my good name / My unused years you may decline / But then you get to the back of the line.” It’s the perfect album ender for such an emotionally cathartic release.
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Rey Roldan
