REVIEW: HebbaJebba — Number 2 (LP)
With their second album, Number 2, HebbaJebba doesn’t just embrace their indie rock roots — they double down, delivering a record that brims with scrappy charm, emotional resonance, and the kind of self-aware wit that makes the genre tick. If their 2021 self-titled debut was a band figuring out their sound, Number 2 is HebbaJebba stepping into their identity with confidence. They’re still having fun, but they’re also digging deeper.
The album opens with “Rock and Roll Band,” a playful and meta track that feels tailor-made for live shows. It’s a song about the complicated relationship between fans and the bands they idolize, a topic rarely tackled with this much humor. “I wanna be you, but also, I kinda hate you,” the lyrics seem to say, capturing the push-pull of fandom. The rollicking energy is infectious, setting a tone for an album that balances exuberance with introspection.
“Swagger” follows, easing into a more laid-back vibe with its ’90s alt-rock DNA. Think early Gin Blossoms with a modern edge. Mark Ganje’s guitar solo elevates the track, giving it a rich texture that lingers long after the final chord. This contrast of upbeat and mellow continues with “(PF),” a standout track that starts delicately and crescendos into an instrumental explosion. It’s here that HebbaJebba’s indie rock pedigree shines brightest — this could easily sit alongside deep cuts from The War on Drugs or The Shins. The refrain, “I’m not the animal you thought you knew,” hints at themes of reinvention, a sentiment that feels fitting for a sophomore effort.
The middle of the album sees HebbaJebba leaning into their narrative strengths. “Down to the Wire” grooves with a riff-driven pulse, a track that embodies the rush and anxiety of trying to keep up. There’s a sense of controlled chaos here, with Tom Carlon’s basslines anchoring the track while the guitars play with abandon. “It’s Fine” slows the pace but ups the emotional ante. The harmonies — delivered with a resigned melancholy — are haunting. The repeated line, “I’m fine, it’s fine, we’re all fine,” hits hard, especially in today’s culture of masked emotions. It’s indie rock therapy, in the best way.
Where the album stumbles slightly is in “I’m a Weed,” a breakup song brimming with energy but lacking some of the subtlety found in other tracks. The relentless pace feels almost too breathless, though fans of raw, punchy alt-rock in the vein of early Weezer or The Get Up Kids will find plenty to love. “What Do You Want Me to Say?” redeems the album’s momentum with a compelling blend of country-rock swagger and emotional vulnerability. The rhythmic shifts in the chorus are an unexpected treat, showing HebbaJebba’s willingness to experiment.
As the album moves into its final third, HebbaJebba hits a creative stride. “Wings of a Dove” is a shimmering masterpiece, with Brendan Ober’s layered instrumentation evoking the atmospheric stylings of Death Cab for Cutie. This is HebbaJebba at their most introspective, and it’s a moment of pure magic. “I’m Tired” takes a more straightforward rock approach, tackling the frustrations of a failing relationship with refreshing honesty.
The closing track, “Change My Heart,” is where HebbaJebba truly stretches their legs. At seven and a half minutes, it’s an ambitious closer that pays off in spades. Opening with ambient city sounds and acoustic guitar, the song builds gradually, layering in each band member’s contributions. It’s a slow burn that never loses its grip, fading out with birdsong and leaving listeners with a sense of reflection.
Number 2 isn’t just a step forward for HebbaJebba — it’s a leap. The band takes the best parts of their indie rock lineage and makes them their own, crafting songs that are as fun as they are meaningful. Sure, there are moments where the energy feels slightly unchecked, but that’s part of the charm. HebbaJebba feels alive, unfiltered, and unafraid to experiment. For a band that thrives on the indie rock ethos, Number 2 is a triumph — and a sign that even better things are on the horizon.
Colin Jordan
