Alex Izenberg & The Exiles

I’m always a sucker for something that’s just doused in the decadence of the ‘70s, hell I’ve made two playlists that celebrate artists that nail that particular aesthetic. Alex Izenberg’s been chasing the Formica slink of the decade for quite some time, coming as close as ever on his last album, but with Alex Izenberg & The Exiles, he’s finally found a true comfort in the mahogany mannerisms of the Nixon years. With JJ as a guiding star, Izenberg wraps his sandpaper and scotch delivery around lush arrangements, riding the diesel chug of rhythm through strings n’ sax, and even a touch of steel this time around. As background harmonies curl through the studio smoke, Izenberg delivers song after song that feel perfectly reclined, poured through the speakers with a malt finish.

Paired with indie power producer Phil Ek (Built To Spill, The Shins, Fleet Foxes) Izenberg fleshes out his pop vision. The confessional songs gain a velour aura, landing somewhere between Lee Hazlewood, Harry Nilsson, and Drugdealer. I’m Not Here was a high watermark, but he vaults it with The Exiles, succeeding in making a record that feels timeless, a collection that feels like its been ingrained in public consciousness all along. It’s hard to walk the line between homage and imitation, but Alex Izenberg & The Exiles is a masterful example of the former, draped in reverence for its influences and aiming to join them in infamy.