Talulah’s Tape

Indie pop used to be so much scrappier: full of guitar fuzz, played by musicians whose passion generally superseded their skill. It was punk for people who couldn’t wear studs, down to the amateurish art, deeply direct lyrics, and underground cassette trading networks—a scene where the north stars were early Rough Trade 7"s and the Television Personalities instead of, say, Fleetwood Mac. And while all genres change with time, Good Flying Birds’ Talulah’s Tape is a nice reminder that there is still something to be found in those imperfect origins.

Like St. Louis’ Soup Activists and Chicago’s Answering Machine, Good Flying Birds are the type of guitar pop band that cherishes the low fidelity of a four-track recording and knows that the line between egg punk and DIY pop is a lot thinner than it appears. Originally known as Talulah God (a nod to Amelia Fletcher’s first band, Talulah Gosh) before changing to their new moniker (a reference to Guided by Voices), Good Flying Birds are ostensibly the solo project of Kellen Baker, who wrote, played, and performed 95 percent of Talulah’s Tape from 2020-2024. This makes Talulah’s Tape, first released as a cassette this past January, simultaneously an introduction and greatest hits collection—a smorgasbord of whatever ideas Baker found most interesting at a given moment.

Invoking the indie-pop classics sets the band up for the herculean task of trying to match its idols hook for hook, yet Good Flying Birds get strikingly close. The girl/boy harmonies of “I Will Find” sound ripped from a forgotten Heavenly song. Bandmate Susie Slaughter’s vocal parts are the perfect icing to every track she’s on. “Fall Away” and “Eric’s Eyes” trigger the same rush as the earliest songs from the Radio Dept.: the ramshackle drumming, muffled vocals, and distortion form a thick blanket of wistfulness and lost innocence. Even when the volume and reverb crank up on “Golfball” or closer “Last Straw,” where the band channels the Wedding Present or Teenage Fanclub, Baker always prioritizes sickly, sunshine-sweet melodies.

Like a Nerds Gummy Cluster, Talulah’s Tape has a sugary crunch that conceals something even sweeter at its core. “Wallace” is jammed with so much staccato riffage and infectious energy you’d never guess it’s a breakup song. “While we speed down the highway/In your car even after we split up/I knew you’d be true to yourself and you’d go far,” Baker sings, letting the sting of young love and heartache serve as the eternal kindling for perfect pop. An occasional interstitial sound collage, à la Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, tempers the sugar high, but these wind up feeling like distractions from the album’s sincerity. Talulah’s Tape is a document of a band in an embryonic state, having recently coalesced into a proper five-piece; influences, like hearts, are worn on sleeves. But Baker’s ear for scruffy, old-fashioned indie pop already feels secure.