It’s an album about growth, nostalgia, and the quiet chaos of becoming. It feels as though it belongs on the soundtrack of a coming-of-age film, one that you wish had been made for you.
Zucker stitches the adrenaline and ache of growing up into a single, flowing arc with writing so sharp it hurts, with production so seamless it feels inevitable.
The opening track, ‘hometown’ arrives with an ambient swell that feels like an inhale, as though Zucker is taking a breath before he reveals what he’s about to say. A calming guitar carries the start, but it’s not long before a steady, pulsing drum kicks in.
The track confronts the lingering guilt of moving away from loved ones, picturing their voices turning sharp with blame and bitterness (“Bet it feels nice / Turning your back on your whole damn life”, “Look at you now / A little too good for your old hometown”). The line “watching the world turn around” knowingly repeats itself, just before the song dissolves into the next without pause. That ease of movement becomes the album’s signature; each song feels like the next scene in the story.
‘i don’t know you’ rides on a steady beat: warm and familiar, like the long conversation that finally makes you feel reconnected to someone you thought you were losing. In the final minute, the song is filled with distant, distorted conversation and an electric guitar.
Then, comes ‘surprise!’, which aches with tenderness - hugging both your inner child and your past self. An acoustic guitar carries you through the track, along with lyrics that feel like much-needed reassurance. It’s the kind of song you ached to have as a teenager, when you needed someone to put your feelings into words.
On ‘simple things’ crisp drums and a bittersweet undercurrent pull you into Zucker’s “New Jersey state of mind”. ‘time zones’ follows, like a morning alarm going off, as though you’ve been running after something, or someone, and then it suddenly ends like you’ve been jolted mid-dream.
Seasonal imagery grounds the record. ‘what i almost had’ sparkles like a slightly folky, pointillist painting, shifting from spring into summer and yearning, before the closing winter sounds freeze it over.
Later, ‘splinter’ brings the listener into autumn, carried by a warm yet cold piano, one that unsettles just enough to remind you that change is rarely gentle, yet comforts you enough to know it’s going to be okay.
By the time ‘garden state’ arrives, Zucker’s references to growth (both literal and emotional) bloom into the heart of the record. Echoes of nostalgia flow through the lyrics ("I’m glad that I’ve grown away from home”) as the bridge builds.
‘navy blue’ feels cinematic, with hypnotic keys and crisp percussion framing the intoxication of falling in love. ‘natural disaster’ swells into a hurricane of sound before crashing into silence, while ‘pretty fucking tight’ shifts gears into a raw, angsty release; its shouted ending leaving you wondering whether he’s saying “tight” or “fight.”
The closing stretch leading up to ‘garden state’ is Zucker at his most intimate. ‘letting go’ is painfully optimistic as it punches you in the gut while whispering reassurance. ‘all i want’ plays like vows, tender enough to soundtrack a wedding in a film.
And finally, a cover of The Postal Service’s ‘Such Great Heights’ closes the album with a soft fade into birdsong, a garden’s natural chorus, returning the listener to where the cycle began.
Zucker’s ‘Garden State’ is an album of seasons, of holding on, moving forward, and of pain that’s indistinguishable from growth.
It beautifully harnesses the duality of something feeling both familiar and foreign. It feels like a soundtrack to a movie you’ll never see but somehow already lived through: seamless, captivating and achingly human. It’s an album you wish you had when you were younger; one that reminds you it’s never too late to come of age again.
Anna Louise Jones
Image: ‘Garden State’ Official Album Cover
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