Shredded Sun
On March 27, Chicago natives Shredded Sun will release “Never Odd or Even,” the latest record in their catalogue of post-punk machinations native to the mid-eighties but living in 2026. Local music literature has described their collection as everything including trash-pop, scorching alt-rock, fuzz-rock and shoegaze. While each of those genre categorizations by many of our city’s most creative journalists is fairly accurate, it shifts from song to song across the entirety of a subtly prolific discography.
Shredded Sun’s members—Nick Ammerman on guitar/vocals, Sarah Ammerman on bass/vocals and Ben Bilow on drums—have been making music in Chicago for a long time. Their previous project, Fake Fictions, released its first album in 2005, and had a reputation for tearing up Chicago’s underground scene. Shredded Sun is very much a studio-first project, with occasional live performances dotting the calendars of local venues like the Hideout, but an almost holy devotion by the Ammermans and Bilow to DIY recording. As Shredded Sun, they have released “Land Lines” (2016), “Let It Collapse” (2015), “Hanging Beach B/w Lock Mess Memory” (2015), “SOS Phantoms” (2021), “Translucent Eyes” (2023), “Each Dot and Each Line” (2023), “Wilding” (2024) and now, “Never Odd or Even” (2026). They are crazy productive, and across the many genre categories they could potentially fit, I estimate they are likely ambivalent to such designations.
When “Never Odd or Even” landed on my fake desk, I was excited. Before I go further, I will state clearly: This is a good album. At times, it is thoroughly excellent. I lost myself, pleasantly, for moments listening to this work—particularly during track six “The Moment.” Initially, I found myself desiring more from the first two tracks, “Hotel Meridian” and “Life After.” These are DIY pop-rock tracks for sure, which, purely from personal taste, are not entirely in my bag. However, upon getting to track three, “Blank Tape,” it started to click for me. The lo-fi, surfer-shoegaze flavor of that track tickles an itch that often needs scratching as our city emerges from another March coated in snow. “Cruel Streak” follows, and it is here where “Never Odd or Even” really begins to shine. It’s an authoritative, indie-rock track—something that would fit perfectly in a skate video (or as a soundtrack to skate to). Sarah Ammerman’s vocals are excellent in this song. The sharp, yearning emotion of her voice connects to the up-and-down indie flow seamlessly.
Shredded Sun’s “Never Odd or Even” album cover
I ticked track five, “Skyscraper,” as another favorite. At this juncture, Shredded Sun takes us into “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” land. This feels like a song that could only be written in Chicago, about Chicago, by people from Chicago. Both Ammermans feature vocally on this one. (Nick) Ammerman sings an addicting chorus: “But I never want to leave/ the city/ again. There’s no such thing as nature/ it’s all agriculture/ but I never want to leave/ the city/ again.” Which is followed by (Sarah) Ammerman singing “Check the map and you will see/ there’s too much open space/ don’t stand so far away/ tell it to my face.” The combination of self-effacing irony, ambivalent reflection, spun upon a classic indie-rock format, comes together to create a song that smiles sadly at you while welcoming you in. This song alone made me proud to write about music; to listen to Chicago music; to listen to and write about Chicago music.
Lyrically, the album is at its most advanced during “The Moment,” which follows “Skyscraper.” Sung by Sarah Ammerman in what is decidedly a post-punk, slow-moving indie ballad, it is a notable departure from the first five songs (and indeed the following five) on the eleven-song album. Shortly after the intro, there’s a section on this track that is seductively melancholic and addictively haunting: “Wait for stars to align/ for someone to send me a sign/ there’s safety in inaction/ it feels comforting to box myself in/ there’s talk, there’s talk, there’s talk/ then there’s real livin’.” My word, isn’t that just real, messy, confusing and painful life catalogued in a few short lines? It’s brilliant to articulate something so asymmetric in so few words. As Ammerman continues, her poetic gifts further coalesce, and the piece gets stronger with each stroke.
Nick Ammerman features vocally on the seventh track in “Midas,” which returns to the faster-moving, rock-or-pop genre from the beginning of the album, only now, because I’ve been cracked in half by “The Moment,” not only am I here for it—but I require something upbeat and am able to embrace it. The album continues as a pop-or-rock (if everyone else can invent genre designations, so can I) exercise until song ten, “Puzzle House.” Here we are met with something a bit more experimental, a bit less clear, a bit more avant-garde indie. I marked this track as a favorite, but I’m not entirely sure how to describe it, so you’ll just have to listen. The final track is “Acer,” faster-moving and triumphant, something that can be squarely designated as an indie-rock song.
I so thoroughly enjoyed tracks three through eleven that I couldn’t help but give “Hotel Meridian” and “Life After” another listen, and they clicked for me. They may not be in line with my personal preferences, but who the hell cares? The Ammermans and Ben Bilow made a bona fide DIY indie album that you cannot categorize, and that might be the very best part about it. It is legit, impressive work, and something we, as a collection of Chicago music fans, should be proud to celebrate. Hopefully, the reclusive recording project will schedule a show soon (nothing on the docket at this stage), but in either case, listen to this album—especially “The Moment” and “Skyscraper.” It is an excellent addition to Chicago’s storied catalog of independent music.
