Womp Whack Thunder

I’ve been hooked on Whiskey Myers ever since I stumbled across Broken Window Serenade. That song is sad as hell—like, “sit in your truck at midnight and wonder where it all went wrong” sad. But weirdly, that’s why I love it. Sad songs make me happy. Don’t ask me to explain the science of it—it just works.

So when I heard they dropped a new album called Whomp Whack Thunder (which, let’s be real, sounds like the name of a cartoon caveman’s finishing move), I had to check it out.

This new album? It’s got all the grit and heart you expect. Some songs roar like a Harley on the highway, others sneak in and hit you in the gut when you’re least ready. That’s the beauty of Whiskey Myers—they can make you headbang and cry within the same 40 minutes.

Whiskey Myers, at the top of my playlist because they can make sadness feel like a good time. Like, “Yeah my heart’s broken, but dang this guitar solo is a banger.”

Broken Window Serenade & Sad Songs That Make Me Happy

I want to circle back to Broken Window Serenade, because it shows what the band can do at its most affecting moment. There’s real emotional rawness—an ache in the lyrics, in the instrumentation, in the pauses between. That kind of song makes me happy not because it’s uplifting in a conventional sense, but because it’s honest. It acknowledges hurts, sadness, maybe regrets—but it also says, “Here’s where I’ve been.” And that authenticity swells into something cathartic.

I was listening to a guy talk last night about how when he hears the voices of God he hears it through music. I agree and this album is no different. Every time I listen to their sad songs, I feel better. Maybe it’s because they’re so raw and honest. Maybe it’s because they remind me I’m not the only one who’s been kicked around by life. Or maybe it’s just because Cody Cannon’s voice sounds like he chews gravel for breakfast.

Pancho.

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