Number 2 by HebbaJebba isn’t just an album—it’s a musical manifesto for anyone who thinks real music still matters. The band’s latest creation doesn’t just sit quietly on the shelf begging for a casual listen. Oh no. This thing kicks the door open, plops itself down on your favorite chair, and demands your full attention for a glorious, uninterrupted 42 minutes. That’s right, people—put the TikToks and tweets on hold; HebbaJebba’s got something to say.
BANDCAMP: https://hebbajebba.bandcamp.com/album/number-2
Now, let me just say, these guys—Paul Gordhamer (drums and some pipes), Tom Carlon (bass and backing sass), Ted Hajnasiewicz (lead vocals and strings), Mark Ganje (handling the “good guitars”), and Brendan Ober (Mr. Everything Else)—know how to build an album that feels alive. Mastered by Ty Tabor at Alien Beans Studio, the sound on Number 2 is lush but not overproduced, raw but not messy, like finding a perfectly ripe avocado at the grocery store. It’s a thing of beauty.
Let’s talk about the music. “Swagger” opens the album, and yeah, it lives up to the name. This track struts in with a riff so bold it might as well come with a warning label: “May cause uncontrollable head-bobbing.” Hajnasiewicz’s vocals drip with attitude, daring you to not feel cooler just listening to it. Then there’s “Wings of a Dove,” which is a total curveball. Dreamy, haunting, and drenched in atmosphere, it’s the kind of track that makes you pause and think, “Wait, when did I get all these feelings?” It’s HebbaJebba at their most introspective, showing they’ve got layers—like an onion, but, you know, less stinky.
But here’s where the real magic of Number 2 lies: it feels like a cohesive journey. The band’s commitment to the long-player format shines through. There’s no filler here, no “skip track” moments. Even “I’m Tired,” co-written with Matthew French, hits like a weary sigh at the end of a long day—a sigh you actually want to hear. The interplay of exhaustion and hope in that song is so relatable it’s almost spooky.
That said, not everything lands perfectly. At times, the album’s dedication to its DIY vibe can feel just a little too homespun. There are moments where you wish they’d polished a lyric or tightened a solo. But then again, that’s kind of the charm, isn’t it? HebbaJebba isn’t trying to be perfect—they’re trying to be real. And boy, do they succeed.
Oh, and let’s not forget the accompanying book. Part lyric sheet, part reflective journal, it’s a love letter to the days when liner notes were sacred. It’s a bold move in the age of playlists and shuffle buttons, but HebbaJebba isn’t here to conform. They’re here to remind us what it feels like to listen.
So, take the plunge. Put on Number 2, crack open that book, and let HebbaJebba take you on a ride. It’s not just an album—it’s an experience. And trust me, it’s worth every second.
Claire Uebelacker