Zane Vickery is no stranger to bearing his soul in song. Over the past few years, the indie singer-songwriter has steadily carved a unique lane with his introspective ambient rock and poetic musings on pain, doubt, faith, grieving, and healing. But Interloper, his 2024 full-length album, hits on a different level. This is likely because it was born, in part, out of a near-death experience. Following a harrowing car accident that could've easily taken his life, Vickery found himself forced into reflection, recovery, and ultimately, a radical honesty. That honesty permeates every room of this ambitious project. The result? A sprawling, emotionally spring-loaded album that is both a lament and a lifeline.

Musically, Interloper is an indie rock tapestry woven with post-rock textures, warm analog tones, ambient swells, and raw vocal deliveries. There's an undercurrent of '90s/'00s alt-rock riffs for fans of the era. Vickery isn't chasing trends; he builds soundscapes that reflect the emotional valleys and peaks he's navigating. Tracks like the slow-burning "Interloper," and the driving guitar-based "Whatever Light We Have," showcase a patience and restraint that rewards the listener willing to sit in the tension. "Hydrangea" pulses with cinematic grandeur, while "Y.D.W.M.A." (You Don't Want Me Anymore) delivers its heartbreak with a fist-up chugging guitar punk ethos. You can almost feel the road rash of experience baked into the reverberating guitars and minimal piano lines, giving the entire album a lived-in authenticity rarely captured this well.

Lyrically, this is Vickery's most vulnerable work yet. He doesn't hide behind metaphor or filter. The aching admission addressed to his earthly dad in "Honest" is crushing. On it, he broods, "I'm not angry, though I have every right to be/and I can't change things/but that doesn't change that I'm stuck looking at your face in the mirror/your reflection on repeat/Tell me, Father, can you hear me." Additional heart-rending grief is directed at God in "The Grateful & Grieving," "Well, people say the most confusing things/Like I was too good for God to take me/Well, tell me, would you dare to dream my dreams/And feel the smoke and flames that wake me/I can't recall how to care who really died, who was spared/Is mercy still leading me/Why does my miracle make my finger want to pull/a trigger back to where I ought to be."

Zane bares his soul with an almost uncomfortable yet infinitely relatable passion. Like the shepherd boy David in the fields, Vickery is not afraid to scream his hurt and doubt at the starry night. And yet, amid the sadness, there's a holy ache -- an undercurrent of hope. "Sad Dads Club" balances this line expertly with a near jaunty tune contrasted with lyrics like, "Sad Dad's a little overstimulated/Outworked and outperformed/He's stuck and badly under-medicated/Unsure, unlike before/He feels a tad bit angry." Later, he sings hopefully, "Be confident of this/That He who begins/Good works will see them through." You can almost feel him singing a truth he's yet to believe fully, a practice every believer should emulate. Vickery shares compassionate solidarity, speaking for a demographic of quietly hurting men who rarely find themselves named in music. Late album highlight "Hymns for the Heavy & Hopeful" feels like a benediction for the broken, gently offering the listener the space to feel everything and still not lose faith. The lyrical courage on display on Interloper sets Vickery apart; he writes like someone who knows the cost of pretending and has opted out entirely.

However, at over an hour in length, and clocking in at seventeen tracks, Interloper occasionally risks listener fatigue. While there are no skips here, each song holds weight in its own right. But the sheer volume may test even the most engaged audience. This will not be a short or easy ride. This isn't background music or a casual Sunday listen. These songs are meant to be absorbed, wrestled with, and revisited. In that sense, it's more akin to reading a confessional memoir than spinning a pop record. But for those who accept the invitation, Interloper is a deep well, one that may not give up its full treasure on the first listen, but grows richer with each return. It also has the feel of an album that will remain relevant for years to come.

Ultimately, Interloper is a daring, soul-baring work that manages to be deeply personal and universally relatable. It's the kind of album that doesn't just tell you how he's feeling; it makes you feel it, too. By the time the final notes ring out, the listener is left not just with a glimpse into Zane's journey, but with a mirror reflecting their own pain and questions. And hopefully, like Zane, we bring all of it to Jesus -- the one who weeps with us, heals us, and gives us songs to sing on the way.

- Review date: 8/23/25, written by Josh Balogh of Jesusfreakhideout.com

 

 Record Label: None
 Album length: 17 tracks: 73 minutes
 Street Date: August 23, 2024
 Buy It: Amazon Music

1. Interloper (3:04)
2. Whatever Light We Have (4:27)
3. The Grateful & Grieving (6:00)
4. Demimonde (feat. Frances Reid Twomey) (4:55)
5. Greenhouse (4:13)
6. Mockingbird (5:11)
7. Honest (6:01)
8. The Best You Could (3:31)
9. The Weight (4:59)
10. Sad Dads Club (3:17)
11. Y.D.W.M.A (4:09)
12. Big Things Coming (4:41)
13. Breathe & Affirm (3:47)
14. The Gallery (4:25)
15. Hydrangea (4:55)
16. Hymn For The Heavy & Hopeful (4:26)
17. Michael Thomas (0:59)