The wind off the lake tried to rip my headphones out three times before DISPATCH even finished "Letter to Lady J." February on the Lakefront Trail, nobody out here but me and some guy training for Boston who lapped me twice. I stayed anyway, pressed play again, tried to figure out what this playlist was doing.
Here's what I know about running playlists: they lie to you. They promise structure, progression, some kind of narrative arc from couch to finish line. Most deliver exactly that—boring, predictable, the musical equivalent of a training plan you'll abandon by Week 3. THE LOCAL does something different. It promises a bar at the end, which is the only honest motivation for running I've ever encountered.
Track one is DISPATCH doing their neo-hippie jam thing, all earnest and sprawling. Bronze Radio Return follows with "Pocket Knife," indie-pop that still has dirt under its fingernails. You're barely warmed up and already this thing is genre-hopping like it's got commitment issues. Then Swingin' Utters slam in with "Tell Them Told You So" and suddenly we're in Fat Wreck Chords territory, which—let me tell you—is not where I expected to be after a DISPATCH opener. It's like showing up for a first date at a coffee shop and ending up at a basement punk show. Did I sign up for this? No. Am I staying? Obviously.
The middle stretch is where THE LOCAL stops apologizing for itself. King Tuff's "Headbanger" is garage-psych swagger, Made Violent brings post-hardcore teeth, and then—this is the move that either works or ruins everything—Iron Horse drops a bluegrass cover of Modest Mouse's "Ocean Breathes Salty." Pickin' On Series taking Isaac Brock to the mountains. It shouldn't work. The fact that it does says something about running, or playlists, or maybe just my declining standards for coherence.
But here's the thing: around mile two, when your brain starts that familiar loop of why-am-I-doing-this, the chaos becomes the point. WATERS hits with "Molly Is A Babe," The Marked Men deliver power-pop-punk perfection on "Fix My Brain," and Greg Puciato (yeah, the Dillinger Escape Plan guy doing solo work) crushes "Down When I'm Not" with the kind of intensity that makes your legs remember they're capable of more than shuffling. You're not running to structure. You're running to the bar, and the music is just drunk enough to get you there.
The Wall Breaker is track nine, "Down When I'm Not." This is where Greg Puciato—who spent years making the most technically insane hardcore ever recorded—strips it down to just voice, guitar, and this raw, desperate energy that sounds like every bad decision you've ever made catching up at once. It hits right when you need it: two-thirds through, legs screaming, finish line close enough to hurt. Puciato's not offering motivation-poster bullshit. He's offering company in the suffering, which is the only thing that actually helps.
Then Deer Tick closes with "Let's All Go To The Bar," and if that's not the most honest finish line anthem ever written, I don't know what is. John McCauley sounds like he's been running from something his entire life and just decided to stop and drink about it instead. That's the playlist. That's the whole philosophy. You ran. You survived. Someone's buying.
Top 5 tracks that have no business being running music but work anyway: 1) "Ocean Breathes Salty" bluegrass cover—Isaac Brock meets Appalachia, makes you forget you hate uphills. 2) "Letter to Lady J"—seven-minute jam band opener, all warm-up lie, perfect for denial. 3) "Molly Is A Babe"—sounds like summer, tastes like beer, somehow provides propulsion. 4) "Down When I'm Not"—Greg Puciato's existential crisis as fuel. 5) "Let's All Go To The Bar"—drunk alt-country as finish line reward. Honorable mention: "Fix My Brain" for being exactly what you need when you need it.
I finished three miles. The guy training for Boston finished seven. We both ended up at the same place—cold, tired, wondering why we do this. The difference is THE LOCAL gave me an answer: because there's a bar at the end. Sometimes that's enough.
