Tim Heidecker Knows the Most Crucial Part of Succeeding as a Singer-Songwriter Is Being a Good Storyteller on His Phenomenal New Album, High School

Now on his fourth proper record, Heidecker moves forward by looking back.

Last summer, I posted about the insane amount of talent on the then-upcoming Neil Casal compilation, Highway Butterfly, when Brent Rademaker sent me his pick of the lot: Tim Heidecker.

It’s no small compliment, as Rademaker played with Casal in Beachwood Sparks and GospelbeacH, and is well entwined with many members of the music community featured on the tribute. “Tim Heidecker’s track is insanely good,” said Rademaker. “Like Warren Zevon on his debut LP.”

As a longtime fan of Heidecker’s work, I didn’t find this surprising.

Like so many others, Adult Swim introduced me to Heidecker through his work with Eric Wareheim on Tom Goes to the Mayor, their first show that was a preferred choice while passing the late-night ganja in college. The duo would, of course, go on to make Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!, an inspiration for an entire generation of surreal YouTubers and writers. Heidecker is still chugging away at a high level, whether through the Andy Kaufman-esque asshole he plays on On Cinema at the Cinema or hosting his morning show sendup Office Hours more straightforwardly.

For the last six years, though, Heidecker has released a steady stream of solid singer-songwriter albums, and his latest High School is the best yet. Heidecker was ahead of his time with “Work from Home” on In Glendale, his proper “serious” debut, and he hit again in the follow-up, What the Brokenhearted Do, but it was 2020’s Fear of Death that changed the game. Working with Natalie Mering (Weyes Blood), the record’s sense of dread fell perfectly in line with that first dark pandemic year.

So that Zevon comparison? High School fully earns it as Heidecker bounces between cringe-worthy teenage memories and worries about the current state of affairs (I also love the album cover art tribute to Zevon’s posthumous Preludes). On top of being an incredible performer and pop music genius, Zevon was first and foremost a great storyteller, which separates the legends from the coffee house drivel in the singer-songwriter category. This trajectory makes sense for Heidecker, who has spent the last few decades telling stories in a ten-minute format on television. Still, High School is different from everything that has come before it in its earnestness and craft.

“Buddy” kicks off the breezy ten-song set with reflections on that kid who was always fighting that uphill battle in their home life. We all knew them, whether they were a friend or the shunned weirdo, or maybe you were, in fact, “Buddy.” One way or another, Heidecker plants the seeds of relatability and allows them to grow throughout the record.

“Chillin’ in Alaska” dives into the headspace of early crushes, including their irrationality (She says she hasn’t been to the Lower 48, I’m thinking of askin’ her to come back with me, only after our first date) and the inevitability of someone else swooping in while you’re wrapped up in the “play it cool” worries (And it’s makin’ my mind wander back to yesterday, To another time and another place, When a cousin of mine took my girl away).

“Future Is Uncertain” is filled with thoughts we’ve all had the past handful of years but also hits differently on High School’s release this past Friday after the Supreme Court went ham on the rights of everyone in this country through a bunch of minority ruled decisions. “Get Back Down To Me” explores the welcomed idea that taking time for yourself isn’t selfishness and is, in fact, needed self-care.

Musically, “Punch In the Gut” is where Heidecker kicks it into that Zevon gear, spinning a yarn about a bullied kid who finds himself in the corner with no way out (When I went to the priest, And I pleaded please to intervene, He said, ‘No, it’s not my place, Let boys be boys, let ’em lose in disgrace’”).

As awesome as the first half of High School is, the final stretch is where the record seals the deal as one of the best of 2022. “Stupid Kid” is the all too relatable story of a fifteen-year-old Tim Heidecker watching Neil Young perform “Harvest Moon” and picking up a guitar because “Oh, it looks so easy that even a stupid kid like me could do it.” Waterbeds and pop culture fill “Sirens of Titan,” a glimpse into the life of Heidecker as a teenager in Pennsylvania, with one of my favorite verses of the year that demonstrates Heidecker’s gift of dealing a quip without delving into full-on funnyman territory:

“Kurt Vonnegut comin’ to town, speakin’ at the university, I was a little shit, a little right-wing, When he said he loved Clinton, I couldn’t help but disagree, I was fiscally conservative, until I got that college degree.”

“What Did We Do With Our Time?” is another brilliant look into the teenage boy’s mind, with time spent writing songs and hitting the thrift store for ironic t-shirts, before the album closes back in the present with the sunshine escapism of “Kern River.”

With High School, Heidecker has once again surrounded himself with high talent from the indie scene. Mostly recorded at Mac DeMarco’s home studio, it also features Eric D. Johnson of Fruit Bats, Drew Erickson, Jonathan Rado of Foxygen (who produced In Glendale), and a great feature from Kurt Vile on “Sirens of Titan.” But make no mistake, this isn’t Bruce Willis moonlighting as Bruno or Scarlett Johanson teaming up with Pete Yorn for a snooze-worthy vanity project. Heidecker has been at this forever, and High School separates the heartfelt songwriter from the bizarro comedian with phenomenal results.

I’ll take more of this from Tim Heidecker any day.

High School is available now on Spacebomb.

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Hear songs from Tim Heidecker’s ‘High School’ and so much more on the Good Ass Songs 2022 playlist! (For those that think music is dead, here are 227 songs that say otherwise… and it’s only June!)