The anatomy of an MJ record might go something like this: warped pedal steels and skuzzed out guitar; crackin' a cold one with some buds; a voice reminiscent of the high-lonesome warble of a choirboy.
A rumination on the limits of control, collaboration, and fate, the song is an apt meditation for a band whose resurgence came about through a mix of luck, artistry, and then clear-eyed energy.
Written by Giannascoli and recorded across various locations in Philadelphia and New York, the album was co-produced alongside his longtime collaborator Jacob Portrait.