Friko – Something Worth Waiting For

Chicago’s Friko seemed to burst out of nowhere with 2024’s Where we’ve been, Where we go from here, a startlingly accomplished debut album that we crowned our third best of the year. Although they were a duo at the time, Where we’ve been… sounded huge and fully realised, which, coupled with their passion for bombastic choruses and baroque embellishments, evoked memories of Arcade Fire’s Funeral, arguably the last indie rock debut that seemed to herald the arrival of a new juggernaut in the genre.

Consequently, Something Worth Waiting For feels like a pretty bold title, given the elevated expectations around its release. It exudes a certain confidence, which, after such a slam dunk of a debut, I suppose Friko have earned, even if it risks setting them up for a fall. Having grabbed an early promo, I’ve been able to immerse myself in its charms for longer than I customarily would for a regular review, and I’m glad I did. My initial impression, one of excitement and awe, has given way to a more tempered response. Something Worth Waiting For is a very good follow-up, but it is not without its flaws.

Now a quartet, it’s no surprise that Friko sound bigger, louder, and bolder this time out. Something Worth Waiting For’s maximalist skew is surely amplified by the band’s decision to work with in-demand producer John Congleton, who has many strengths but isn’t exactly renowned for his nuanced use of negative space.

The thrilling opening salvo of “Guess” and “Still Around” is visceral and immediate—all frantic release and absolutely no build whatsoever. Niko Kapetan sounds like a man possessed, his quivering voice recalling the likes of Conor Oberst, Win Butler and Spencer Krug. At times, Kapetan’s vocal work is exhilarating, but there are moments when it feels more forced, like he is challenging us to accept him as an indie rock icon. Something Worth Waiting For walks a fine line in this respect, and I can imagine Kapetan’s vocals dividing listeners in the same way Cameron Winter’s idiosyncratic warble does.

On a song-by-song basis, the run from “Choo Choo” to “Something Worth Waiting For” is remarkably strong, but taken as a whole it feels frustratingly breathless. By the time the more introspective closer “Dear Bicycle” arrives, it seems long overdue, exactly the kind of contemplative number that could have added character and disrupted the freneticism of Something Worth Waiting For’s relentless middle third.

The wonderful single “Seven Degrees” deserves a specific mention for being a soaring, gently psychedelic take on late ’60s/early ’70s folk rock. The Beatles are an obvious reference point, but I’m hearing shades of ELO’s technicolour pop as well as Olivia Tremor Control’s majestic psychedelia. It’s Friko’s strongest moment and a surefire standout on a record that arguably tries to cram in too many of them.

Ultimately, Something Worth Waiting For is an album of good songs with some sequencing and balance issues. Its problems have nothing to do with quality in the traditional sense, but Friko will need to temper some of their maximalist tendencies if they want to seize the indie rock throne.

Something Worth Waiting For is out now via ATO Records.