The 18 Greatest Waxahatchee Songs Ranked
Ahead of the release of their hotly-anticipated comeback next month, I take a critical look at the best songs released by Katie Crutchfield and her band to date
#18 La Loose
Something of an outlier in the Waxahatchee discography, “La Loose” is a bubbly indie-rock tune that showcases a poptimist-embrace of instantly infectious melodies. The lyrics may trace the same themes that animate so many Crutchfield songs - troubled relationships, trying and failing to tame an overactive mind - but the bubbly guitars and wordless “ooh”s, provide a lightweight counterpoint to the many heavier tunes in the band’s catalogue.
#17 Rose, 1956
Grief has a way of solidifying disparate details into haunting, lifelong memories. On “Rose, 1956”, a reflection on a Grandmother’s death, Crutchfield lingers on a Christmas Eve hangover, the passing trains, and most painfully, the short sharp breaths of her Grandmother in her final weeks. This unsettling lo-fi rocker covers the span of a lifetime - from a marriage at 15 years old, up to the point of death. It’s a jarring contrast, from which we can find no escape - “no stitch of shade”, as Crutchfield sings.
#16 Grass Stain
One of American Weekend’s most iconic tunes, "Grass Stain” captures the youthful recklessness, self-destruction, and dissatisfaction that would go on to define so many Crutchfield hits - as she avoids confronting the crumbling nature of a relationship and attempts to “drink until I’m happy”.
#15 Lively
A spiritual cousin to “Swan Dive”, “Lively” documents a toxic relationship of two people spiralling towards “separate bottoms”. However, a hospital scare softens the edges of anger - the end result being less furious and more yearnful for a simpler time. “I’m longing for my youth / You were lively then, too”, mourns Crutchfield.
#14 Never Been Wrong
On 2017’s Out In The Storm, Waxahatchee stretched her rock stylings to their nosiest, most visceral forms. By all accounts, the album and the resulting tour also pushed Crutchfield to her limits, inspiring newfound sobriety and the pivot to the soothing sounds of St. Cloud. Unsurprisingly, the intensity of “Never Been Wrong” is unparalleled in Waxahatchee’s catalogue - as she wonders over blown out guitars if she’s “happy or manic?”
#13 Peace and Quiet
Searing anger doesn’t get in the way of clarity on “Peace and Quiet”, it heightens it. “You can’t run, you can’t hide, you’re a giant / You defend all the damage you caused”, lambasts Crutchfield, before turning her reflections inward: “If I muster the strength to afflict you, I won’t feel any better at all”.
#12 No Question
“No Question” is gloriously unsubtle - pounding stadium-sized guitars and drums pounce the very second the song begins, and Crutchfield’s repeated cries of “I can’t get away” and “it never ends” conjures a visceral sense of desperation before she flips the narrative - ending the song with repetitions of “it sets you free”. Make no doubt, this is indie-rock at its most cathartic
#11 Arkadelphia
On “Arkadelphia”, Crutchfield “drive[s] out far” to find closure regarding a close friend who struggled with addiction. Seemingly pleasant memories take on a dark hue (“When we were kids, free as the air / With a violence craving to turn up somewhere”) and death’s shadow looms (“If you get real close to the ending / I hope you know I did what I could”). But unlike on the following “Ruby Falls”, recovery triumphs - “we’ll weigh what’s good and get real old”, sings Crutchfield, a wave of calm washing over the song.
#10 Brother Bryan
Grief warps our memories, our perception of self - and of the world at large. On “Brother Bryan”, a lo-fi tribute to a friend lost to a drug overdose, Crutchfield remembers the first time she met Bryan (“I said to you on the night that we met, ‘I am not well’”) and mourns youthful perceptions of invincibility. Crutchfield’s lyrics stand among her most poetic and devastating (“My sister’s eyes flood like rivers of wine in your absence”). “In this place, I think about you”, repeats Crutchfield in the song’s outro, hovering around closure but not quite reaching it.
#9 Right Back To It
On her latest comeback, Crutchfield comes right back to the sound she mastered on Saint Cloud - a warm helping of indie-country, this time assisted by masterful guitarist MJ Lenderman. Crutchfield, “blunter than a bullseye”, details the reality of being a restless soul, before finding comfort in a long-standing relationship.
#8 Sparks Fly
On “Sparks Fly”, distance makes the heart grow fonder - “When I called last night, you felt so far” sings Crutchfield, who finds herself astray and alone in Berlin drinking “‘til the sun comes up”. More so than any other song on Out in the Storm, “Sparks Fly” lays the groundwork for the songs of homecoming that would make up Saint Cloud three years later, as she declares, “I’ll go back South, I’ll leave it all behind / See myself clearly for the first time”.
#7 Can’t Do Much
Given how many Waxahatchee songs chronicle toxic relationships and restlessness at large, “Can’t Do Much” stands out as a spectacular outlier in Crutchfield’s catalogue, as she shrugs off her uneasiness and embraces love (“Love you that much anyhow / Can’t do much about it now”).
#6 Be Good
Although this 2012 cut has been somewhat overshadowed by Emily Kinney’s cover of it on The Walking Dead, the original remains unbeatable (well… actually, Waxahatchee’s live performance of the song for NPR, might just be better). Everything about the song - it’s vibrant, fuzzy, rambunctious lo-fi sound (a la Liz Phair’s Girlysound tapes), Crutchfield’s sing-speak delivery, and the blasé dismissal of personal failings that epitomizes youthful self-assurance - evokes heady nostalgia and simpler days of overcrowded, overloud, beer-soaked gigs.
#5 Lilacs
“Lilacs” traces alternate emotional extremes - one minute “feeling nothing”, and the other getting “so angry” about things not yet happened. The song’s ultimate message, however, is one of self-acceptance and clarity - “I’ll fill myself back up like I used to do”, assures Crutchfield.
#4 Ruby Falls
On “Ruby Falls”, Crutchfield returns to the story of “Brother Bryan”. Utterly deconstructing the romanticized narratives of the tragic, troubled soul, she opines, “It ain’t your fault, it’s just a shame / To fall without aim”. Sounding more at peace than she did six years previous on “Brother Bryan”, Crutchfield finds grace and comfort in memories and an enduring connection to the deceased (“you know you got a friend in me / I’m an angler married to the sea”).
#3 Bathtub
Of all of Waxahatchee’s songs, “Bathtub” might be the most self-lacerating, beginning with the admission “take my word for it, I’m not worth it” and going on to chart being a toxic partner, singing “I tell you not to love me / But I still kiss you when I want to”. In the end, however, there’s no escaping the truth, as Crutchfield admits she will be forced to confront the truth “in the morning / In the bathtub”.
#2 Swan Dive
The most iconic of Waxahatchee’s down-and-out indie-rockers wraps despair around a continuous repetition of the same four chords. Vignettes of despair and dreams of “loveless marriage and regret” play out across 3 minutes, and the titular metaphor remains one of Crutchfield’s starkest and most affecting to date (“a swan dive to the hard asphalt”). Amidst this bleak landscape, however, she lays the seeds of hope that would grow into the revelation that was Saint Cloud, manifesting, “I will grow out of all the empty bottles in my closet”.
#1 Fire
In interviews leading up to the release of Saint Cloud, Katie Crutchfield spoke about her fears surrounding how her newfound sobriety would impact her songwriting. “Fire” proved that it only served to take her craft to masterful new heights - with a “wiser and slow and attuned”, Crutchfield reflecting on the “tainted” nature of past places, her own limitations and aspirations. “Fire”, then, is a revelation.