HebbaJebba’s Number 2 is the kind of record that feels like it’s been made for people who still believe in the concept of “album-as-art.” In a time when the concept of the album is often reduced to a mere playlist, HebbaJebba is one of the few bands actively pushing against that trend—reminding us that music is meant to be consumed as a whole. With their second full-length release, they’ve stripped down their sound and attitude to create something that feels oddly timeless, yet totally of the moment.
FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/HebbaJebba
The album comes alongside a book, an artful little extra that encourages listeners to engage with the music in a more tactile way. It’s a bold move, in a world where attention spans are fractured by TikTok snippets and algorithmically-driven recommendations. But Number 2 isn’t concerned with chasing virality—it’s about carving out space for reflection, both personal and musical. “The act of stopping time IS special,” the band writes in the book, urging fans to slow down and really be with the music. And honestly, it works. For 42 minutes, you’re transported back to a time when music was something to be immersed in, not just heard.
At its core, Number 2 is an exploration of indie rock as it exists in 2024: raw, honest, and unfiltered. The album’s opener, “Rock and Roll Band,” feels like a shout-out to the underdog fans who love music without the need for a polished, curated persona. With lyrics like, “I wanna be you, but also, I kinda hate you,” the track channels that unique blend of adoration and alienation that comes with being part of the indie music community. The vibe is playful, yet bittersweet—a perfect tone setter for what follows.
Then we get into “Swagger,” which gives us a smoother, ‘90s alt-rock kind of energy. Imagine if Beck’s Odelay had a moment with early Foo Fighters—grunge energy meets indie swagger. The guitar solo here is a standout, recalling the time when guitar solos actually mattered in indie rock. And it doesn’t stop there; HebbaJebba’s range is what really begins to shine on this record.
“(PF)” is one of the album’s defining moments. It begins with a gentle, almost wistful guitar intro before slowly building into an instrumental explosion. There’s a sense of introspection that builds and builds until it culminates in this brilliant wall of sound, making it feel almost cinematic. When lead vocalist Ted Hajnasiewicz belts out, it feels like a declaration of independence. The whole track is drenched in that feeling of growth and personal reinvention—something that’s become a hallmark of the indie scene in recent years.
From there, the album shifts into its more meditative space. “Down to the Wire” is a propulsive rocker about the frustrations of modern life and trying to keep up, anchored by Tom Carlon’s taut basslines and a groove that won’t quit. There’s an urgency here that feels current, a reflection of the perpetual motion we all seem to be stuck in. But the band’s ability to pivot without losing momentum is one of their greatest strengths. “It’s Fine” is a departure—more introspective, more vocal-driven. It’s sad, but in a beautiful way.
The band’s evolution as storytellers is apparent in tracks like “What Do You Want Me to Say?” and “Wings of a Dove.” The former is a mix of country-rock and self-doubt, its rhythmic shifts showing a level of sophistication that wasn’t present on their debut. The latter is a sprawling, textured piece, invoking the kind of emotive atmosphere that’s become synonymous with bands that are held in regard as indie titans today. It’s here that you realize HebbaJebba is no longer a band just playing songs—they’re creating emotional landscapes.
Number 2
Listen to Number 2 on Spotify · Album · HebbaJebba · 2024 · 10 songs
As the album winds down, “I’m Tired” feels like the emotional climax. It’s a track that could easily fall into melodrama, but the band’s restraint keeps it grounded. The final track, “Change My Heart,” is a nearly eight-minute slow-burn that brings everything full circle. Beginning with the sound of cars honking and birds chirping on top of an acoustic guitar, it builds in layers, not with urgency, but with intention. The birds returning at the end feels like a release—a letting go of the tension that’s been building throughout the record. It’s an oddly poetic way to end an album that asks you to stop and listen.
HebbaJebba may have started out as another indie band with a love for fuzz and catchy hooks, but with Number 2, they’ve proven that they’re ready to push the boundaries of their sound. The album is a testament to the power of patience in music, a rare thing in a world that’s increasingly short on it. The real question is: Where do they go from here? If this album is any indication, HebbaJebba is on the cusp of something even bigger, and they’ve got the indie scene’s attention.
Clay Burton