As has happened with countless indie artists before him, All Set the Bone marks the moment Vermont musician Greg Freeman has fully come into his own. Upon finishing his critically acclaimed sophomore record Burnover (2025), Freeman had an epiphany about which direction his music should take; something came as a surprise because he thought the process would have taken considerably longer.
The next record came together in the Southwest, thousands of miles away from the Burlington indie scene he helped cultivate. While the band recorded with a No Overthinking sign affixed to the door, spontaneity must have been part of the magic because Freeman and company deliver what feels like a singular statement, albeit one that comes across as overly pessimistic. Amidst compositions that are regularly intense and stylistically varied, it feels like Freeman has entered a new phase, one that will usher in another generation of indie rock devotees in its wake.
From the outset, All Set the Bone comes across as surprisingly political, with Freeman moving beyond storytelling to narrate our grim reality. Opener “Cahokia”, named after the indigenous archaeological site across the Mississippi River from St. Louis, delivers a vicious opening statement: “Time to join the world you fucked up / Time to wake your girls and boys up / Silences that rise to heaven / Will define which hell we live in.”
Despite the call to action, an overwhelming sense of dread weighs down the themes. In “Culture”, Freeman acknowledges that “no analogy proves sufficient” when considering “the course of inhuman events”. That song ends with a bold pronouncement: “No culture and no more rock and roll.” His outlook feels anti-everything to the point of nihilism. In this scenario, we’re scared to miss out, but nothing is coming our way (“Decade”) or—with death imminent and heaven no longer a possibility—our erasure from history (“Next to Nothing”).
From that vantage point, All Set the Bone recalls Okkervil River‘s foreboding, elegiac masterpiece Black Sheep Boy, which fixated on the grim reality one cannot escape. “Loser’s Prize” could be mistaken for Will Sheff at his most rollicking and familiar, with a ripping solo and a glimmer of piano sprinkled on top. Yet it’s the plodding “Marooned” that feels most in line. The epic track reaches its logical breaking point with the battering of instruments, before it contorts into another movement that eventually reconnects back to the beginning.
Never one to shy away from dissonance, Greg Freeman leans into the device at times to startling effect. “Culture” clatters along like Califone, “Untitled 10” uses math rock to tunnel into another substratum, and “Hail Mary” devolves into a premeditated mess. Listeners may feel disoriented by the intense and varied onslaught, with the cacophony sometimes deafening, but repeated listens reveal the versatility of noise in Freeman’s craft.
Much has been made about Freeman shedding influences and finally sounding like himself. I would argue that references are still there; they are just more nuanced, varied, and synthesized into his sound. Modest Mouse and Songs: Ohia are still present, but so are Fugazi, Unwound, Elvis Costello, and Pavement, among others. He seamlessly transitions from moments of discord to pop, in particular standouts “Indu” and “Decade”, the latter adorned with horns and ragtime piano, without disrupting the overall flow or track sequencing.
Setting Freeman’s influences aside, listeners are encouraged to celebrate what makes him one of a kind. This includes his atypical voice, original imagery (e.g., “Turn on the radio / The service here is crap / Hear the Christian hearts clank around / Like lobsters in a trap”), and unpolished charm. These are just some of the facets that make Greg Freeman’s latest effort so demanding and ultimately captivating. Like Geese‘s Getting Killed last year, All Set the Bone proves to be a contender for album of the year, while simultaneously offering a rare glimpse into the genre’s future.