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On their debut album
No Gasoline, Chicago band
Widemouth arrives with a mesmerizing document of coming of age, rooted in the band’s deep friendship and chemistry. “There’s a lot of anger and fear in these songs…a lot of heartbreak, grief, and stories from childhood; the patient exploration of old pain that’s a cornerstone of sobriety. But at the core of it all is friendship,” they explain. “Not just writing
about friendship, although there is a lot of that. But more so that the album itself is an act of friendship, empathy, and community. We write these songs together, so all of the pain we’re expressing is shared.”
No Gasoline captures the essence of what it means to be a friend, and acts as a compelling introduction to a Midwestern band-to-watch.
Widemouth is led by songwriters, vocalists, and guitarists
Mak Carnahan (she/her) and
Jamie Eder (he/him), alongside drummer
Lily Mitchell (they/them) and bassist
Pat Pilch (he/him), who joined in December 2025 (former bassist
Levi Saltzman co-wrote and performs on
No Gasoline). The band began when Carnahan and Eder started playing
Paul Simon and
Big Thief covers in the basement of a Northwestern University dorm in the summer of 2023. The yin and yang dynamic between the duo serves as the cornerstone of the band’s immersive, intimate, and cathartic sound. Carnahan is steady and grounded, preserving the emotional center of each song, while Eder is a fearless risk taker, a wellspring of unfiltered ideas. “If the words are important, Mak will make sure the arrangement doesn’t overtake that. I think that’s become a vital part of our sound,” Mitchell says. “Jamie is a loose cannon, in the best way possible. He wants to try any and all crazy ideas.”
Co-produced by
Jack Henry (
Friko,
Free Range,
hemlock) and
Sam Genualdi,
No Gasoline was recorded entirely live in a rural Indiana barn turned “bare-bones but extremely cozy” studio, and the finished product reflects these rustic, warmhearted surroundings. “The six of us drove down from Chicago on a rainy day, into the woods, and made a record,” says Eder. “Over five days, we tracked the songs live as a band, including live vocals. We just tried to play 'em the way we do at shows. More often than not, the first or second take was the best.”
No Gasoline was informed in part by Carnahan’s artistic upbringing–her mother is an actor and director, her father a writer and producer, and her maternal grandparents worked in the arts as well–and Eder’s classic jazz background, but most significantly by their shared love of modern indie rock giants like
Wednesday and
Waxahatchee, and legends like
Gillian Welch. Following the release of their auspicious 2024 EP
Well (which caught the attention of Rolling Stone, landing on their ‘Songs You Need to Know’ roundup),
No Gasoline finds the band leveled up and locked in, with a sharper bite and clearer vision. “These songs feel a little dirtier, a little less self-conscious, with a little more swagger,” they explain. “They feel more like the work of a band, vs. the work of two singer-songwriters.”
The album’s 13 songs are steeped in family, memory, love, loss, and warmth. Its cover art is a photo of Carnahan’s great grandmother
Norma Trumbly, who was Osage and lived on a reservation, with her horse and pet raccoon. And the project is dedicated to one of her closest loved ones,
Moon Blauner, whom she lost to cancer during the making of
No Gasoline. “Moon was like a second mom to me–she was at the hospital the day I was born and when she saw me, she said:
‘I’m gonna call her Mak and she’s gonna be a musician.’ I attribute much of who I am to her, and I miss her more every day,” Carnahan shares. “Making this record while she was slipping away was very intense, but it also was really the only thing that made me feel better. I felt like I was doing something, not just being scared for her and angry.” As “The Water” developed, Carnahan realized she had written the delicate, heartfelt song about Moon:
“the pins in your hair / finding heaven / standing in the driveway / storm in the air...standing in the front door / looking for the Moon.”
On album standouts "Raincoat" and "No Gasoline," the band explores the growing pains of early adulthood with striking emotional resonance. The former–a song about the dissociation Carnahan felt returning home from college–showcases her and Eder's evocative harmonies atop a warm yet sparse acoustic arrangement that slowly builds with banjo, steel guitar and percussion. The album's melancholic, autumnal title track ends with a swell of haunting group vocals, and examines the youthful folly of ignoring problems until they become unavoidable. One of the record’s heaviest and most candid moments, "Hotel Pool," is about the fear of being controlled by your past, and finds Carnahan stretching her vocals to a point of freeing release. "By the time we get to the final slow-down, it always feels like I’ve let go of something I didn’t need," Eder notes.
Through intricate, cozy arrangements, thoughtful lyricism, and the chemistry and collaboration of friendship, Widemouth have found their collective voice on
No Gasoline. “It is really vulnerable to be in a band with other people–putting your ideas out there and trying to let go of ego while also fighting for the ones you believe in. I have learned that I can trust them with my insecurities and ideas,” Carnahan says. “I hope people hear this album and want to go hug their friends, hug their family, and be grateful for the stuff around them. Most of these songs in one way or another are about love–romantic, platonic, familial, all of it. I want people to plug into the love that's around them.”