Album Review: Old by Starflyer 59 (2003)
If you’re into that dreamy, shoegaze-meets-indie-rock vibe with a side of existential pondering, then Old by Starflyer 59 is your jam. Released in 2003 under Crossroads of America and Tooth & Nail Records, this album feels like cruising down an empty highway at night—equal parts melancholy and mesmerizing. It’s got layers of fuzzed-out guitars, hazy vocals courtesy of Jason Martin, and rhythms that just kinda float along, like they don’t have anywhere better to be.
One track that sticks out is “New Wife, New Life.” It’s not exactly what you’d expect from the title—it ain’t some cheesy wedding anthem. Instead, it's more like a sonic postcard about change and moving on. The guitar work here is lush but understated, letting Martin’s voice take center stage as he delivers lines that feel both personal and universal. You can almost picture someone packing up their stuff, leaving old memories behind, and stepping into something unknown. It’s bittersweet without being sappy, which is kinda Starflyer 59’s whole deal.
Then there’s “First Heart Attack,” which hits different for obvious reasons. The lyrics are raw and punchy, capturing that moment when life throws you a curveball so hard you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Aaron Sprinkle’s production gives the song this gritty edge while still keeping it polished enough to keep your attention. Plus, the drumming by F. Lenz adds this steady heartbeat-like pulse that makes the whole thing feel alive. It’s one of those tracks where you think, “Man, I’ve been there,” even if you haven’t had a literal heart attack (hopefully).
What’s wild about Old is how it manages to sound nostalgic and fresh all at once. Sure, it came out two decades ago, but listening to it now feels like rediscovering an old mixtape you forgot you made. Tracks like “Underneath” and “The Lights On” weave these atmospheric textures that stick with you long after the music stops. And let’s give props to R. Swift on keyboards—those subtle synths add depth without hogging the spotlight.
But honestly? This album isn’t trying to blow your mind with flashy tricks or over-the-top solos. It’s content to simmer in its own quiet intensity, like a conversation you have with yourself late at night when no one else is around. Maybe that’s why it works so well—it doesn’t try too hard.
Fun fact: Did you notice how Brandon Ebel gets credited twice, once as Executive Producer and again as Executive-Producer? Like, dude couldn’t decide between hyphens or spaces. Kinda funny, right? Anyway, Old might not be perfect, but maybe that’s the point. Sometimes imperfection leaves room for beauty—or at least a really great soundtrack for staring out car windows.
