10 Years of Cardinal

2016 • RUN FOR COVER RECORDS • INDIE / EMO / ALT-COUNTRY

First, a personal story. In August 2017, I went on a first date. I knew that she and I shared much in common, but still desperate to ensure no gap in conversation, we swapped books beforehand. I gave her The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and she gave me The Secret History by Donna Tartt. Light stuff. Despite the literary set-up, our conversation drifted to music. “What is your favorite song right now?” I asked her. “‘Aphasia’ by Pinegrove,” she answered, “but not the album version. The Audiotree version.” That night, when I got home, I listened and was introduced to Pinegrove.

She and I have been married over six years now and are expecting our first child together in a couple months.

Thus, I engage with Pinegrove from a place of deep warmth and personal meaning. Conveniently for me, on Cardinal, that is also how founding member, frontperson, and primary songwriter Evan Stephens Hall approached interpersonal dynamics, social circles, and his parents.

Calling Cardinal–or Pinegrove music in general–“alt-country” does it a disservice, though it does twang and rock. That label is seemingly based on Hall’s northeastern drawl, occasional pedal steel, and not much else. A decade ago, though, their particular peculiarity got them round-peg-square-holed into the 2010s emo revival. In the years since, a number of artists have sprinkled a touch of twang into the genres from which they originated (see, for example, Home Is Where, Julian Baker and TORRES, Katie Gavin, and even Arm’s Length). Genre-hopping is not new now and was not new in 2016. With Cardinal, though, Pinegrove did not dabble. They used complexity to make something simple, setting themselves apart and enduring.

Cardinal also was a proper introduction to Hall’s lyrics, which sound like he had a Thesaurus handy. He casually drops “labyrinthian,” “iterate,” and “solipsistic” immediately on track one standout “Old Friends.” If you or I attempted this stunt, our amateurism would be glaringly obvious. Yet, anyone who has had moments of their lives soundtracked by Pinegrove knows in their bones that Hall is more than capable of deploying SAT vocabulary words to describe everyday experiences and feelings. Though verging on being pretentious and annoying, the sentiment is clear even if the word is unfamiliar because the word’s context conveys its meaning. This stylistic choice broadens the range between high-brow words and otherwise accessible songs, creating one class: Pinegrove listener.

The characteristics that made Cardinal a word-of-mouth sensation in 2016 are the same as those that keep it fresh in 2026. Thematically, “we’ve all been there” moments of social awkwardness or relational tension. Sonically, co-founding member Zack Levine’s off-kilter drumming paces each song just right, and the instrumentation still has a few tricks up its sleeves, even when you thought you knew the album front-to-back. Filled out with, at the time, Zack’s sibling Nick Levine, Sam Skinner, and Nandi Rose Plunkett (who also releases music as Half Waif), the band punctuated Hall’s casts-about for what even he seemed unsure of.

By giving voice to his own confusion and tension, Hall turned Cardinal into a sort of how-to manual on being in relationship with friends, family members, and other loved ones. Close your eyes, throw a dart, and you have solid odds of pegging a line that gets at that most basic push and pull: for example, “In a little while, I’ll go, unless you might wanna hang a while, then I won’t” on “Waveform,” or “How long will I wander by your side?” on “Visiting.” If, like me, you have spent the better part of a decade singing along, the songs are now well-worn, fitting like a pair of shoes that you just cannot get rid of. The confusion is now a safe place.

Pinegrove’s growth neither began nor ended with Cardinal. In 2023, their song “Need 2” (on their catch-all compilation Everything So Far) took off in a viral TikTok moment depicting a somber shuffle. They thus joined a lineage of artists who were previously unheralded in the mainstream but who found a new audience, such as SALES, Mitski, Mom Jeans., and others. A song taking on a life of its own and blasting into the stratosphere is not unique to Pinegrove, but the way it happened exemplified the next evolutionary step of internet fandoms giving songs a new life. This phenomenon has been happening since the MySpace and Tumblr days, it continues now through TikTok, and I just know some incomprehensible next step awaits.

When reflecting on Cardinal, and despite all these words, I still find myself trying to “say what it is,” but “it’s so impossible” (“Cadmium”) because “the truth is, I don’t know what” (“Visiting”). It need not be so confusing, though. The Scrabble score of the words aside, it really all comes down to: “I should call my parents when I think of them, should tell my friends when I love them” (“Old Friends”). Recently, I spent two hours of a Saturday morning on the phone with my mom, and I felt a ball of warmth in my chest for the rest of the day. I was grateful when she texted me later expressing a similar sentiment. Cardinal’s, and ultimately, Pinegrove’s thesis is right there. The rest of the album and Pinegrove’s career–even as they evolved into angsty political class observations–grew out of that foundation.

Pinegrove started as Hall and Levine, and the last official news from the band was when Levine left to focus on his new family with Plunkett. They have released no new music since 2022’s excellent 11:11. If that is the end of Pinegrove, then it is fitting. It is somewhat on their own terms, disingenuous attempts to bring them down and COVID be damned (my wife and I had a ticket to see them on tour supporting 11:11 in 2022, but when COVID ran through the band, they scrapped the rest of that tour. Levine’s departure followed shortly thereafter.). While I would not turn down what certainly would be excellent new music from them in the future, I also cannot help but feel satisfied if we never hear from them again. Leaving fans wanting more, as opposed to going out with a whimper, cements a legacy.

Think of it similarly to Stephen Curry, who is in the middle of yet another top-10 season, good enough to anchor a Finals-contending team, except the team around him is insufficient. If Steph were to retire at the end of this season, nobody would doubt for one moment whether he could offer more; that answer would decidedly be “yes.” He has already accomplished all the accolades necessary to be remembered as an all-time great. Leaving fans wanting more, as opposed to going out with a whimper, would cement his legacy.

Pinegrove’s legacy endures through kickass, confessional indie rock (see, for example, Ratboys’ new album, Singin’ to an Empty Chair). Though that arc did not begin with Cardinal on it, Pinegrove simply did it better than most.