Pinegrove's 2015 collection gathers twenty tracks that map the Montclair band's early identity: warm guitar figures, Evan Stephens Hall's conversational vocal delivery, and a knack for turning small observations into something weightier. The sound sits between indie rock's DIY looseness and alt-country's plainspoken melodies, with enough space in the arrangements that you notice the drum patterns and the way a second guitar line doubles back on itself.
Songs like "Angelina" and "Size of the Moon" show the group working out their balance of introspection and momentum. Some tracks lean spare, almost skeletal. Others build to a fuller band sound without ever tipping into bombast. The sequencing is generous, perhaps too much so: twenty songs means some ideas feel like sketches rather than finished statements. But that sprawl also captures a band figuring out what it wants to say and how to say it, which has its own appeal if you're drawn to process over polish.
For people who came to Pinegrove through later records, this offers context. For newcomers, it's a lot to take in at once, but the best moments justify the length.
