Katie Crutchfield, under the name Waxahatchee, made an album during a snowstorm last winter. She dedicated it “to anyone who had woke up and realized their identity is blurry, has had to clumsily get to know themselves, has hit a bottom, has felt self-deprecating and vagrant, and to anyone who has ridden out a shitstorm.”
She called it American Weekend. She means “American Weekend” in the same wide way that Kurt Cobain means “Teen Spirit,” less social construct than natural phenomenon. This is a lo-fi masterpiece in the league of Lou Barlow and the Softies. We should consider it a descendent of Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska, or else temper it no lower than Essential Listening.