LATCHKEY KIDS
Year of Summers
(Pathetic Pinky Promise)
Add date: 4.21.2026
Release date: 4.24.2026
Latchkey Kids’ Year of Summers is a modern Greek tragedy about growing up and falling out of love in New Jersey. Anaïs Mitchell’s Hadestown—a parting gift from lead vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Hanny Ramadan’s ex—served as the soundtrack for his heartbreak and the inspiration for anthems like “Orpheus,” “Everywhere at Once,” and “Athena.” Like any great epic, Year of Summers wouldn’t exist without a call to adventure; for Ramadan, this meant sneaking out of his parents’ South Jersey home to go to DIY shows and grassroots protests. The son of Lebanese Muslim immigrants, Ramadan found a home in his fellow misfits in the New Brunswick DIY scene and the queer artist circles he ran in at Rutgers University. While attending Rutgers, he met his bandmates, guitarist Joey Grzybowski and drummer Cyle Morris. The three made a name for themselves as Latchkey Kids, playing the same basement circuit that birthed Jersey punk legends like Thursday and Screaming Females. After being scattered to their respective homes during COVID lockdown, Latchkey Kids reconvened in Philadelphia to put together their 2022 debut LP, the week you ran away, an emo coming-of-age concept record about an Arab-American family rocked by an unexpected teen pregnancy.
Co-produced by Kyle Pulley (Jay Som, Alex G, Frances Quinlan, Hop Along), Year of Summers takes the narrative focus and voracious punk catharsis kickstarted on the week you ran away and expands it to the most anthemic heights of emo, pop-punk, and garage rock. It’s in some ways a spiritual successor to fourth wave emo cult classics like Modern Baseball’s Holy Ghost and The Menzingers’ On The Impossible Past; opener “Orpheus”—a breakup anthem whose wounded howling just begs to be screamed along with—features guest vocals from The Menzingers’ vocalist Tom May, and the chorus of “Apocalyptic Skies” sounds like Ramadan and co taking the “American muscle car” from “Good Things” for a joyride and blasting My Chemical Romance out its open windows. “Apocalyptic Skies” is a complex and thrilling account of seeking proximity to American assimilation in emo and pop-punk while admitting “but we never recognized ourselves in it.” As a first-generation Lebanese-American artist working in a genre heavily associated with whiteness and suburbia, Ramadan’s lyrics explore what it means to be a different kind of outsider in a scene made up of outsiders. Ramadan’s relationship to his family, his culture, and his music was further complicated by his father’s short and tragic battle with cancer that prompted Ramadan’s return to his childhood home in South Jersey. Tracks like “Cower” and “Venus” are empathetic and unflinching examinations of a parent becoming human in his child’s eyes, anger and adoration making up a nuanced portrait of a complex father figure.
Amidst the grief and heartbreak—whether personal, political, or both—that makes up the bulk of Year of Summers, are shining moments of joy found in community and belonging, and reminders that these things are both unguaranteed and wholly necessary. Sometimes this comes from the momentary release of screaming along at a house show or showing up in solidarity for those who need it. Latchkey Kids know that the pop-punk escapism can only get you so far—in real life, summers aren’t endless and you can only “get out of this town” for so long until you’ve gotta go back. Year of Summers subverts the fantasy. It faces fearsome realities head-on and refuses to look away, and Latchkey Kids’ heart-rending rock ‘n roll is all the more compelling for it.
Photo credit: Scott Troyan & Dana Ramadan