Wednesday’s Bleeds Shows a Band Leveling Up in Every Direction

Bleeds, the sixth album from Wednesday, isn’t a reinvention, but it’s a refinement that is sharper, heavier, and somehow more vulnerable at the same time. It’s the sound of a band knowing exactly what they do best and digs in deeper.

Karly Hartzman’s songwriting has always carried a mix of heartbreak and humor, and on Bleeds it feels stripped of any pretense. These songs don’t reach for beauty, they somehow stumble into it. The images come fast and real: half-lit porches, late-night drives, bad habits you swear you’ve broken but never really do. They've been doing this on their previous records, but on 2023's Rat Saw God, they completely refined the process and in turn made an all-time classic.

The album opens with a miasma of guitar with “Reality TV Argument Bleeds”. As they start to build, they then chug, and finally crest and caterwaul. There’s noise, but it’s purposeful, more like pressure building than chaos exploding.

The band behind her sounds incredible here. Hartzman, along with bassist, Ethan Baechtold, drummer, Alan Miller, guitarist MJ Lenderman, and pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis have created a sound all in their own. The guitars cut but never overwhelm. Lap steel glides in perfect moments. Everything feels lived-in and slightly frayed around the edges. “Townies” is a twangy loper that is a snapshot of what you’d exactly think.

“Wound Up Here (By Holdin On)” sets the tone. It’s a weary kind of resilience, the kind that comes from surviving rather than winning. “Elderberry Wine” is a showstopper. It leans softer but still aches, and “Pick Up That Knife” hits with a messy mix of rage and release. Each track builds its own world, but they all orbit the same feeling — trying to keep it together when everything around you is bleeding out.

What’s different this time is how deliberate it all feels. The pacing is perfect. The quiet moments have weight, and the loud ones crash through like they’ve been waiting for their turn. Even the sequencing feels thoughtful, pulling you through a story without spelling it out. By the time “Gary’s II” rolls around to close it, the album feels less like a set of songs and more like a conversation — between the band, between the listener, maybe even between versions of yourself you don’t talk to that often.

What sticks with you isn’t the noise or the riffs — it’s the humanity. The way Hartzman sings like she’s sitting next to you, trying to figure it all out in real time. It’s messy and raw, but that’s the whole point. Bleeds doesn’t try to patch the wound. It just stares at it and says, “Yeah, that’s what it feels like.” It’s another extraordinary leap from one of the best bands making music today.

Bleeds is out now on Dead Oceans.