HEY I THINK YOU’D LIKE THIS
Hayden Pedigo – I’ll Be
Waving As You Drive Away (2025)
[18/05/2026]
I have noticed lately that I am a waver. I don’t nod;
I don’t smile and pour out a charming “hey.”
I spot the person. I wait till they see me.
I release the spring that shoots my left arm into the air.
My smile pulled to either side of my face.
Left side manned by excitement and
right side by complete momentary lack of self-awareness.
Grin in place, the wave takes over my arm from the elbow up.
No shaky wrist business.
All in the elbow, baby.]
I remember all your greetings took place with a similar childish enthusiasm.
I am absolutely sure you would love this.
It is profoundly lush and bright and the way
he chooses to play guitar is beyond belief.
I appreciate how it feels approachable without being reductive or played out.
I feel it is very intimate and sensitive
without being too pouty (?)
When I first heard this,
I was the first few hours in on a long car ride.
Sharing a car with strangers, Yoggs had sent me this and told me how good it was.
I suggested a listen, sure that it would fit perfectly with the setting sun surrounding us.
There is something about joining a car ride
from my city to the capital
that is inevitably linked to the beginning of summer, for me.
The journey and the album title had me thinking about rituals
and the silent way they are established in our lives.
We never spoke of this;
we never shook hands or even recognised it ever happened.
However, in our shared time,
one full of goodbyes and dropping-off-at-bus stops/stations/ports etc.,
it felt sacred that I could rely on looking over my shoulder,
post-goodbye, and you would be waiting there,
in case I turned around, just to wave at me.
I did my best to stand my ground whenever you would be leaving,
to offer you the same send off.
The unspoken certainty of this was charming
and said a big deal about the way gestures set the tone of reality,
sometimes more so than what we choose
to verbally state and/or acknowledge.
As we both gnawed away at each other’s feelings
with a relentless need to pick apart words and meaning,
I find it comforting to retreat in memories
to reveal any sort of undeniable consistency.
I am thankful that we did this.
(Except that one time the skies had opened and
I couldn’t exactly blame you for choosing not to drown just to prove a point.
A choice I wish you had returned to
in other aspects of our time together.)
Funnily enough, the album is solely instrumental too, no words stated.
The guitar is at the forefront,
even though synths, violin, piano, lap steel, bass
all appear to enrich the sound and orchestration in wonderful ways.
They feel like shadows to a shape, offering definition and clarity.
An entity of its own, in a sense,
but hard to separate from the original body.
Of course, it wouldn’t be the same without them,
however the sound and the composition of the acoustic guitar on its own is enormous
and could have easily, lazily maybe, been the entire album.
I feel that all the songs are indeed in the acoustic guitar
but I am glad the record chooses to be more nuanced.
The instrumentation is decor to the guitar,
ambience serving the song,
confident enough to not push to feature individual “roles” for each instrument.
Needless to say, this does not compromise their integral role to the record for a second.
The subtle piano in “All The Way Across,” the violins in “Houndstooth,”
all of the instruments lending their timbre to the gorgeous hooks on “Hermes.”
It just wouldn’t be as good without them.
I am fond of this kind of writing.
In “Long Pond Lily,”
the change of pace and calculated adding of bass
is already a pleasant surprise,
the moment those phaser-drenched electric guitars kick it,
I am caught.
I think it is a terrific start to an album.
The entire album is sentimental, in a hopeful way.
It lends its calm and some residue of fortitude to keep going.
It has a lot of motion for something stated to be in a position of stillness.
The observant ghost to someone’s driving away.
There must be light in letting go.