Friko’s Young Voices and Gorgeous Cardinal Songs

While in my 2024 roundup I noted that it felt, on the whole, as if the year had a bit less to offer than the one prior, I’m more than willing to admit that some gems will always elude my notice despite my efforts to the contrary.  One such treasure is Where we’ve been, Where we go from here – which when it finally got my attention in February of 2025 retroactively shot up to near the very top of my ‘24 favorites list, right beside the likes of Adrianne Lenker and Fontaines DC.  The nine-song record, its cover adorned with a cardinal, released in February of 2024 via ATO Records – it’s the brainchild of a young band from Chicago, formed from the core duo of Niko Kapetan and Bailey Minzenberger, who have only gone and released one of the most impressive debut LPs of the decade.

There’s a lot of names of other bands you’ll hear when talking about Friko, and for good reason – they’re a band with a wealth of sonic touchstones and inspirations, but they’re no mere imitators; in fact, they’ve assembled in one record something of a caliber that has taken some of their forebears multiple albums to hone. You’ll hear Arcade Fire in their stomping rhythm section and ensemble choruses, and maybe a bit of OK Computer-era Thom Yorke in Kapetan’s wavering vocal on tracks like ‘Where We’ve Been’ – but the most apt comparison is actually to the equally-youthful Black Country, New Road. The Chicago act stands as something of an American counterpart to that band, like a weird cousin that split off during some multiversal timeline shenanigans between the two distinct eras of BCNR – Friko is capable of evoking heartbreak and moroseness as well as anything from Ants from Up There, but deft at crafting huge chamber-rock bangers like ‘Up Song’.  And that band has taken notice as well, tapping them to open a pair of dates – including Chicago – in mid-May.

At the Boston-area stop of their headlining tour, singer Kapetan admits from the beginning of the night that his voice is shot – but promises the Cambridge audience to do his best regardless. While its mezzanine is closed-off for the night, the floor of the Sinclair is packed full by the time they’ve taken the stage, and the attentive crowd clearly knows they’re witnessing the early days of something special, judging by their readiness to sing along word-for-word with the band’s massive, group-vocal-driven compositions.  Where we’ve been… is absolutely the sort of wordy album you’ll play over and over, more lines committing themselves to memory each time.  This is especially true of ‘Crimson to Chrome’, whose cascading hook tumbles forth interlocked with the three guitars – two six-strings and a bass – an intricate little passage that will worm its way into your ear for days.

Their set is also dotted with songs yet to be released, including ‘Dirty Diamond’, which reminds of Wolf Parade’s ‘I’ll Believe in Anything’ in its cadence.  Following on from there, the apex of the shoegazy ‘Statues’ and the delicate nature of ‘Cardinal’ start to really strain Kapetan’s voice – yet, despite it all, he hits the highest notes of the latter song perfectly before a room truly silent with reverence (and just an appropriately-sized dab of concern). But with that pairing concluded, the hard part is over, the crowd eager to help out with the singalongs that follow in ‘Where We’ve Been’ and ‘Get Numb to It!’.  The former is the record-opener, and the thing that made me snap my head up straight and immediately queue the rest of the album on my phone.  Its quiet build has a perfectly-portioned cocktail of sadness and semi-opaque imagery:

And your teeth hurt more than,
Than thе day before it's
Time to get another job
Four feet between a wall and window
Will make your wife a widow
So throw your arms around me

– ‘Where We’ve Been’

There’s mention of a train carrying a pillow, “a life of only errands” – it bristles with the rawness of unspecified beauties and tragedies. The way Friko can transform even the most dour sentiment into a moving, singalong chorus is something that can never be replicated by mimicry – it’s the kind of thing that has to be infused with total sincerity, else it will ring hollow; it has to be earned.  There’s been space in every generation for bands willing to really wear their giant hearts at the very end of their sleeves, and Friko is surely one such outfit.  Just listen to ‘Get Numb to It!’ if you need proof – it’s a song about self-sabotage with no clear way out, but they morph it into something that sounds like it should be playing over a warmly-lit, soft-focused scene in a coming of age movie where the protagonist and friends ride a carousel as a fading grasp at their waning childhood; close-cropped shots of faces looking up, lights twinkling in dilated eyes. Or something like that, who’s to say?

In the interest of saving Kapetan’s voice, the band opts to trim their set just a bit, as well as skip the encore break, and moves to close with a new song called ‘Dear Bicycle’, which Kapetan says is meant to be the last song on the next record.  Like ‘Cardinal’, which closed Where we’ve been… it too is a quieter affair with him on piano, entrancing the crowd with voice and keys under the cone shape of the spotlight.  Squeezing my way through the back row to get a better view, it’s hard to imagine Friko will ever play a venue this small again – they’re on the threshold of something, or perhaps in the act of tumbling over it – into a world they’ve rightly inherited.

Friko’s central- and western-US touring continues in April and May; find show info at their website here.