Patience, Moonbeam
Great Grandpa’s Patience, Moonbeam is the kind of album that takes a minute to click, but once it does, it really sticks. It’s got that slow-burn, sit-with-it kind of energy—way more mellow than Four of Arrows, but not in a bad way. It leans into this folkier, stripped-back sound, trading out some of their fuzzier moments for soft fingerpicking and pedal steel. It’s not necessarily better or worse than their last record—just different. And at times, that’s both a strength and a weakness.
The opener, Never Rest, sets the tone right away—delicate, almost lullaby-like, with these eerie strings creeping in like secondhand anxiety. It’s beautiful, but I kept waiting for that moment where they’d really go for it, and it just…never quite came. And I won’t lie, that bummed me out at first. Four of Arrows felt so big and cathartic, but here, they’re way more restrained. That’s not to say the record doesn’t have its heavier moments—tracks like Doom hit with this grungy, existential weight, with these deep, murky guitars pulling everything downward before it finally cracks open.
That’s kind of what makes this album special, though—it’s all about subtlety. Al Menne’s voice is still the centerpiece, and they sound incredible weaving through these dusty violin lines on Junior. But what’s really interesting is how they mess with textures. Like on Ladybug, they throw together these random little details—banjos, weird vocal snippets, even some acid-house synths—and somehow it all just works. Even when it shouldn’t.
That being said, Patience, Moonbeam isn’t perfect. Some tracks feel like they don’t totally fit—like Ephemera, which goes full trip-hop for some reason, or the title track, which is basically just a weird, mumbled interlude. And yeah, there are moments where the album feels kind of disjointed. But honestly, that might just be part of the whole thing. The band has literally been all over the place since their last record, and you can kind of feel that in the music.
Lyrically, they balance these poetic, abstract moments with super mundane ones—like running into an old friend’s mom at Sam’s Club (Top Gun). And somehow, that ends up being one of the most emotional moments on the album. Great Grandpa has this way of making everyday life feel kind of profound, like how time just keeps moving whether you’re ready for it or not. The closer, Kid, takes that idea even further—it was written after Pat and Carrie lost their first pregnancy, and it just hurts in this really quiet, raw way.
I don’t know if Patience, Moonbeam will go down as their best album, but it’s definitely their most vulnerable. It takes its time, it’s messy in places, but it’s also real. And sometimes, that’s better than perfection.
GREAT GRANDPA - PATIENCE, MOONBEAM
RATING - 8/10
FAVORITE TRACK - N/A
GENRE - Alt/Indie, Folk