Released as a limited vinyl edition on Grapefruit Records on 6/23/2023. Please order the physical LP directly from their label website or Bandcamp page:

grapefruit1.bandcamp.com/album/maybe-tomorrow

Maybe, Tomorrow marks Methe’s first lyrical-based LP since 2011’s Calendar Work (Grapefruit). In the decade after Calendar Work, Methe focused on instrumental albums with Citizen Electrical (a string and electronics duo with Megan Siebe), Rake Kash, and experimental quartet Naturaliste, which recorded its 2021 Temporary Presence LP in a Shanghai, China, music shop in 2019. Methe also has contributed keyboards to records by Dennis Callaci, Simon Joyner, Refrigerator and Brian Crook of the Renderers.

Maybe, Tomorrow trades the lush, acoustic instrumentation of Calendar Work for all electric gear. Minor chords, discordant organ washes and detuned synthesizer stabs punctuate the songs. Violin arrangements are processed with vintage samplers.

Methe loosely wrote Maybe, Tomorrow before fleshing it out in 2021 with recording and mix engineer Ben Brodin at Hand Branch Studio in Omaha. Many of the lyrics were inspired by personal events, as well as the age-old songwriter themes of mortality and religion. Lyrically, Methe takes a more naturalistic approach than usual:


Opening track “Street Leaf” borders on a dirge but with the eulogy delivered in the first person by a narrator whose disconnect with reality leads to the stark realization that their existence was a “fiction of a fiction.”

“Electric” is all youthful revisionist history, a person living “on the edges of a song that treats the echo like a drum.”
“Exploding Ink” could be about purveyors of societal doom like novelists Emile Zola or Theodore Dreiser, singer-songwriters who extract lyrical content from their neighbor’s hardships, biblical prophets or all of the above

“Hours” chronicles an evening of non-linear sorrow, time traveling with someone afflicted with dementia.

The broken characters of “Ice Machine” enter a bar “with temptation in the right eye and blackout in the left” and find themselves frozen in the coils with fellow patrons. That churning track segues into the pulverizing industrial instrumental “Frigidaire.”

One of the ugliest sounding songs Methe has ever put down to tape, “Frigidaire” casts a crude 9-minute shadow over side two.

Maybe, Tomorrow ends with a flicker of beauty and hope, neatly encapsulated in the album closer “Tomorrow.” The track features resurrected and revised lyrics from a 2010 7-inch, and features hypnotic vibraphone from engineer Ben Brodin.