Blowin’ Up

Kiwi Jr. — 2026

“Four albums in, Kiwi Jr. have turned their nervous jangle into something bigger, cleaner, and surprisingly heartfelt.”

Four albums in, Kiwi Jr. have stopped pretending they might trip over their own feet. Blowin’ Up is the sound of an indie guitar band finally acting like it belongs onstage with the best of them, which for a group that made its name on slacker shrugs feels important. Their last record, Chopper (2022), was their third album in three years and their second for Sub Pop. I think that grind finally caught up with them, because for the first time they sounded a little flat. Four years later, the Toronto band headed to Detroit’s High Bias studios with Graham Walsh at the board and Nicolas Vernhes cleaning up the mix, and you can hear the time away pay off. The jangle that used to sound like it was cut in one take now rings out bright and stacked, guitars braiding around each other with a confidence the band used to hold at arm’s length. Blowin’ Up is the cleanest recording they have ever made, hooks shoved up front instead of buried under fuzz. Jeremy Gaudet still sings like he is reading you the news, unbothered and a little amused by the whole thing. Meanwhile, the power pop has moved right to the front, giving these songs an immediate punch that earlier Kiwi Jr. records sometimes tried to hide.

What also makes it stick is the writing. Gaudet crams these ten songs with clerical dread, border runs, and half remembered trivia and leaves you wanting to hear more. The tongue in cheek moments land because he never leans on them, tossing off lines about fingerprints at a crime scene or a heart stranded on a hard drive in the same flat deadpan he uses for everything else. There is some maturity creeping in too, and it plays to the band’s strengths. On the first track “Photos Of The Reenactment,” Gaudet sings “I say nothing good ever happens after midnight / You say nothing good ever happens here at all.” I love that reality check. I also like the slower almost ballad “New Jade Rabbit” when he delivers the line “I wish that you could see / Through my eyes when you all look at me.” What I keep coming back for is how much heart leaks out from under every track, right down to the engaging five minute plus closer “Landscape With Limousine.” A band that built earlier albums on pretending not to care has quietly decided that caring is worth it.