Ben Kweller, “Cover the Mirrors”

Dedicated to his late son, the former grunge-pop wunderkind crafts something both touching and infectious as it moves through the stages of grief like landmarks on an epic summer tour.
Reviews

Ben Kweller, Cover the Mirrors

Dedicated to his late son, the former grunge-pop wunderkind crafts something both touching and infectious as it moves through the stages of grief like landmarks on an epic summer tour.

Words: Kyle Lemmon

June 10, 2025

Ben Kweller
Cover the Mirrors
NOISE CO.
ABOVE THE CURRENT

Can a mystically profound album about the crippling grief of losing your teenage son also be a hummable record made for your next road trip? Only the former grunge-pop wunderkind Ben Kweller could answer that improbable question with an album that’s both touching and infectious in its pop simplicity. The story behind Cover the Mirrors is an unspeakable tragedy which Kweller’s family is still reeling from. It's an album about the past haunting you, as departed loved ones spur you on from beyond to complete that story, song, or painting sitting in the corner of your room collecting dust.

Cover the Mirrors starts with the sounds of rewinding tape and a long, deep inhalation. Opener “Going Insane” sets the tone for the record as Kweller sings about grief while on the road, and continues the playful-yet-pained wordplay from his early solo piano-rock era. Singing in his wavering Neil Young–like style, the words appear nonsensical at first, as he rhymes “rattlesnake” with “carrot cake.” It’s slowly revealed over the course of the song that Kweller is trying to get back that songwriting spark that once fueled him and still connects him to his lost son, who was also a budding songwriter. These songs are lighthearted and show their feathers, but can morph in a blink to be as heavy as sledgehammers. Elsewhere, Kweller picks at the scab of feeling exhausted by talking about the same incident over and over with “Park Harvey Fire Drill,” where the lyrics take on a different meaning over the rambling acoustic track. 

You can imagine each of these songs were salves for Kweller as he strummed his guitar or plunked away on his late son Dorian’s piano, trying to find the chords, trying to find the words. And thankfully Kweller is not alone. His friends help him on this epic grief road trip. The album was recorded at NoiseCo Studio in Dripping Springs, Texas, with Kweller bandmates Christopher Mintz-Plasse (yes, McLovin’) on bass and Ryan Dean on drums. The 12-song LP features guest performances by fellow indie rockers Waxahatchee (“Dollar Store”) and MJ Lenderman (“Oh Dorian”). The track “Depression” marks a reemergence of Jason Schwartzman’s mid-aughts musical project Coconut Records, and the track “Killer Bee” features psychedelic rockers The Flaming Lips.

The rock bombast of 2020’s Circuit Boredom and 2012’s Go Fly a Kite pop up on “Optimystic” and “Save Yourself,” and the windswept Texas roots most visibly showcased on 2009’s Changing Horses return on “Brakes” as well as on the best road trip song on the record, closer “Oh Dorian.” The latter is the sound of a father reaching out to his son, seeking connection and looking forward to hanging out with his best friend for one last jam sesh. Kweller sings over an acoustic guitar and barroom piano while Lenderman lends support on guitar: “Watch him glow and radiate when he walks through the door / Understands what you say because he’s been there before / This is a record that blinks through the multitudes of mourning like a well-oiled touring band.” 

The album’s third track “Trapped” is a particularly interesting composition, as Dorian wrote the first version and the chorus melody, but was unable to finish before he died. His father aims to continue Dorian’s musical journey even beyond this record. Cover the Mirrors was released on what would’ve been Dorian’s 19th birthday, and the city of Dripping Springs allowed Dorian to be buried in the backyard of his family’s ranch with his skateboards watching over him. Mileage may vary on your own road trip through grief, but this record will open up some wounds and let the sunshine in. The next time you visit the gravesite of a loved one, use this as the soundtrack. I know I’ll be blasting Cover the Mirrors from California to New Hampshire, mom.