This is an edition of the newsletter Pulling Weeds With Chris Black, in which the columnist weighs in on hot topics in culture. Sign up here to get it in your inbox every Thursday.

I absolutely loved Smith Westerns. Their second album, Dye It Blonde, is a Pitchfork Era classic that still holds up. That band had a public split, and a great new band emerged: Whitney. Their third album, Small Talk, comes out next week, but it feels timeless, like it’s always existed—the sound drifts between classic Americana, soul, and 1970s soft rock, all draped in a hazy, pastoral warmth. It is effortlessly listenable.

Whitney’s guitarist Max Kakacek and drummer-vocalist Julien Ehrlich are best friends. They live together, record together, and tour together. I spoke to them from their shared home studio in Chicago about returning to form, bad reviews, finding a musical idea that sustains you, and being confronted with metrics.

Julien Ehrlich: Definitely the latter. It’s funny —we basically sent ourselves down a path of extremes. When we made the second record, we weren’t succumbing to pressure or anything, but a lot of people were like, “Do it again,” because the first record did pretty well. The second record was so challenging to make because we didn’t allow ourselves to paint with different colors. But I love the second record for that reason. It’s a bit meta. You can kind of hear the struggle. There’s some beauty in it. But since we made the second record that way, I don’t think we would’ve made another Whitney record unless we completely shifted on the third record. This being the fourth record, we got the shift out of our system. We weren’t being calculated to return, but it felt like we were free to make whatever we wanted for the first time.

Max Kakacek: That’s one of the reasons that I love the new Geese. It checks neither of those boxes. It’s such a great record, but it doesn’t have pedal steel. It’s funny that you bring that up. I’m not trying to hate, but the issue with pedal steel is that people will lean on it and forget to write a great song. It makes you go numb.

You guys have been around for a long time, and you see how these trends come back around. Smith Westerns was a time, and Whitney was a time. But Whitney is a time again.

Kakacek: I do remember having conversations at the end of Smith Westerns when Whitney was starting, and I was talking to some other Chicago musicians. They were like, “What are you working on?” I was like, “I think me and Julien are starting a country band.” And they were like, “What the fuck are you talking about?” And this was in 2012, 2013. So “indie rock,” big quotes there, was a completely different thing.

Here we are. You guys have been professional musicians for a really long time. Was it touch-and-go for a little bit?

Kakacek: I don’t think we ever had that. The last record —just the critical and commercial reception of the previous record —was pretty negative. The same way I had that conversation with my friend, like, “What are you doing?” But being musicians who have been in it for so long, you have points where critical and commercial success are harder to come by. That’s part of the ebb and flow of this industry. So it’s getting your stripes. It was scary and new territory for us, but it also felt like we earned something. Now we’re like, “Okay, let’s get back to work.”

Obviously, they tell you, “Oh, you can’t pay attention to that shit,” and it’s like, “Yeah, no shit, but I’m a human being.” I get shit on every day for what I say on our podcast, How Long Gone, and I don’t really care—but that’s not my art. Is there a method to compartmentalize it in your brain, where you take that in and don’t let it affect the output moving forward?

Ehrlich: The method is continuing to make music and finding a musical idea that actually sustains you.

You have to trust yourself.

Ehrlich: It literally makes you high, and then you forget about whatever the fuck happened with your last record.

Kakacek: It’s also about finding a way to have pure fun writing again. With some of this, it was about going back to a 4-track cassette to start writing a song. That’s how the band started, and it’s a lot of fun. You don’t have to focus on fidelity. It sounds charming right away, so you just get to create without thinking about what it means in a grander sense. It’s play. Whereas if you get in your head like, “We need to make a reaction to this album,” then you’re not playing enough to enjoy what you’re doing.

What is your take on the music business in 2025? Is it that much worse than it was in the buzz band era, or is it the same?

Kakacek: It’s hard to say. Now you’re confronted with a lot more metrics, so it’s easier to find a case that’s worse. It’s easier to point to social media and be like, “This is why it’s worse.” But the business is probably close to the same. The artist’s interface with reality is a little more apparent.

I don’t want data.

Kakacek: I read Liz Pelly’s book, and it was fascinating. The Spotify For Artists page is basically a second business —that’s a really sneaky one. That whole structure has really caused a lot of disillusionment.

Kakacek: I’ve spoken with people who share the same opinion. They’re like, “Well, I have a family and a house because of Spotify.”

Ehrlich: I started drumming when I was, like, two. I always sang backup. I’m so fluent with drumming that adding singing on top just wasn’t hard.

It’s always about getting the mic in the right place. That is a real task for the tech. It feels like a different device from a regular mic stand.

Ehrlich: Yeah, well, you’ve got to get a long goose neck and you need to make sure it has structural integrity, you know?

This motherfucker is talking about structural integrity.

Kakacek: We have sandbags on the rider.

Ehrlich: Also, you can’t be on a hollow stage because that shit will start rocking.

Is there a top-five list of drummers who sing?

Ehrlich: Anderson .Paak is the only one people seem to remember in modern day.

Really? I’ll put this on the record: I’d much rather listen to Whitney than Anderson .Paak.

Ehrlich: In Australia, someone in between songs asked, “Are you better than Anderson .Paak?”