Cory Hanson is the frontman with spaced-out desert-psych-rockers Wand. He’s also, in a kind of parallel musical universe, a solo artist with a penchant for melodic, country-tinged classic rock. There’s nothing wrong with having two careers – and Hanson manages to be equally adept in both guises – but where things might get a bit confusing is the fact that the band backing him on I Love People is identical to the band that made the last Wand album, 2024’s Vertigo. While this shouldn’t have any impact on how we enjoy Hanson’s craft, it might perhaps leave us with a new-found appreciation of his and his cohorts’ adaptive talents. It can’t be easy locking into a completely different sonic identity with the same set of guys.
But Hanson and co. make it seem like the most natural thing in the world. I Love People feels much more like a continuation of 2023’s Western Cum than like a Wand album. It relies less on overt surrealism than Western Cum, but conjures up similar dusty roads and shimmering horizons. Opener, Bird on a Swing, is rolling country-rock, full of descending piano chords, the occasional cosmic guitar lick, plumes of violin. But the main thing here is how Hanson’s voice deals deftly with his sweet, summery and sometimes sad melodies. Here, more than on previous releases, the emphasis moves slightly away from the guitar sound and towards what Hanson has to say, and how he says it.
Joker has a Steely Dan-like maturity – particularly when the sax part hits – but with the added pathos that country-adjacent music always manages to invoke. Hanson has a rare combination: clever arrangements and emotional heft. It’s a talent he’s not ashamed to show off here. The title track is a blast of country soul built on a scaffold of robust horns. It’s like late Silver Jews tossed in a salad bowl with Gram Parsons and Dead Flowers-era Stones, dressed with just a hint of Laurel Canyon lustre. And it’s not just the production that brings to mind LA’s golden age: Texas Weather’s humour and lightness of touch help it stay just the right side of the Eagles and while I Don’t Believe You might seem at first like a throwaway piano ballad, its melodic heart shares space with Carole King and Jackson Browne.
In fact, these piano ballads form the album’s heart: an ode to Lou Reed skirts absurdity and poignancy with a deft touch, while a wandering sax takes a walk on the wild side. Bad Miracles is a slow burner that dresses existential dread in stately chords and a fiery guitar solo that appears from nowhere and vanishes just as abruptly. Hanson even finds space for a nostalgic, string-laden Christmas number, Santa Claus is Coming Back to Town.
Final Frontier juxtaposes visceral lyrical imagery with gentle, spacious acoustic guitar that brings to mind Dylan’s evocative Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid soundtrack. Old Policeman is an unexpectedly tender, quietly brutal character study with an almost nursery rhyme-like simplicity, while closer, On the Rocks, for all of its downbeat poetry, is a strangely exhilarating concoction of Nashville twang, West Coast melodicism and Big Star power-pop swagger. It might sound to the casual listener like Hanson is taking it easy, but nailing this many different styles and bringing them together into one cohesive set of songs is tough to pull off. I Love People achieves its goals thanks to Hanson’s surefooted songwriting, which weaves the disparate elements into a vivid, unapologetically American tapestry. He recognises that particular elements of American musical history are intrinsically tied to specific landscapes and moods, which his songs then tap into with an unnerving, almost magical precision.
I Love People (July 25th, 2025) Drag City
Bandcamp: https://coryhanson.bandcamp.com/album/i-love-people
Cory Hanson 2025 Tour Dates
July 29 – San Francisco, CA @ Kilowatt
July 30 – Arcata, CA @ The Miniplex
July 31 – Aug. 3 – Happy Valley, OR @ Pickathon
Aug. 3 – Seattle, WA @ Black Lodge
Aug. 5 – Boise, ID @ Neurolux
Aug. 6 – Reno, NV @ Holland Project
Aug. 7- Pacific Grove, CA @ Pop & Hiss
Aug. 8 – Los Angeles, CA @ Zebulon