Birds Of Paradise

Thomas Dollbaum — 2026

“Thomas Dollbaum writes about survival, small towns, and hard miles with the clarity of someone who’s lived every word.”

I would guess most people still don’t know Thomas Dollbaum has been quietly building a reputation as one of indie rock’s sharpest storytellers. The Tampa raised, New Orleans based songwriter cut these ten songs live in four days at Dial Back Sound in Mississippi with a backing band that includes Jake (MJ) Lenderman on drums and harmonies, Nick Corson on bass, and Josh Halper on guitar. This type of process for me always adds excitement for an album because I think you can hear the spark. Birds Of Paradise has just that as you can hear the looseness of guys playing in the same room without much interruption. The album lands somewhere between dusty barroom rock and plainspoken folk, with the kind of weathered twang that perfectly fits the temperature. You believe every word as Dollbaum takes you along for a front seat ride through the album’s 10 tracks.

What really hooks me is how his writing finds a deeper story about the passage of time and resilience. He writes about Florida with affection for the people but no illusions about the trap they’re stuck in. On “King’s Landing” he imagines a getaway through Cops reruns, hoping the bad guy steals a small plane and flies “off to the everglades, build us a home out of water and snakes.” That’s the whole record in three lines: when there’s nothing else, survival and imagination start to look like the same thing. Like many records MJ Lenderman has touched lately, Birds Of Paradise is better for his presence. His harmonies, backing vocals and playing help elevate an already good album into something you immediately want to replay.

“Coyote” opens with a killer image, a coyote prowling the yard looking for the family cat, and rides a pensive low slung groove while Lenderman mirrors the chorus with the kind of harmony that sneaks up on you. You will want to sing along almost instantly. “Dozen Roses” is the rocker that’ll pull people in, a warm foot tapping number where Lenderman peels off a ragged guitar solo and Dollbaum drops the album’s saddest line, “When you were a kid the whole world felt like a lonesome ocean.” “Pulverize” is the dark horse single on the record, all nervous forward motion until Dollbaum is just screaming “it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s FINE” like a guy trying to convince himself. And “Rabbits” has a real Tom Petty vibe with its open-road delivery which honestly feels like the lane Dollbaum has been carving out all along.

The MJ Lenderman comparison is unavoidable and earned, but Dollbaum is doing something a touch more literary, closer to Bill Callahan’s habit of letting a single image carry a whole song. The David Berman shadow hangs over the writing too, particularly in how Dollbaum can deliver a devastating line without raising his voice, which is why Purple Mountains fans should check this album out. Greg Freeman feels like a newer singer/songwriter peer in the way his band kicks up track after track without losing the melody. You can also go back to John Prine’s catalog or even several Jason Isbell tracks because Dollbaum has proven here that he belongs in that conversation about songwriters who treat regular people like they’re worth the camera time.

I think this is the album where Dollbaum starts being a name to know. Ten songs in, you feel like you’ve ridden shotgun across half of Florida and you’re not quite sure you want to get out of the car.