Craig Wedren has undoubtedly had a busy summer between re-releasing an expanded version of his 2024 solo LP The Dream Dreaming, prepping for his reunion tour with the formative DC post-hardcore outfit Shudder to Think, and, on a very different emotional wavelength, providing the score for his old friends and collaborators David Wain and Ken Marino’s new absurdist sex comedy Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass. Not that this is anything new: Wedren has maintained a steady workflow over the past five years or so, both as a solo artist and for his film and TV work—most notable of which being his soundtrack work for Yellowjackets alongside Anna Waronker. Somewhere in there he also evidently finds the time to curate and compose music for psychedelic therapy sessions.
Yet somehow in the midst of all that Wedren has also kept up to date on new music, as is made abundantly clear via the playlist he threw together for us which features several periods of his work alongside a choice cut from the new Charli XCX record, the latest single from electro-rap futurist 2hollis, and a selection from the trendy new release by Arthur Russell collaborator Nirosta Steel. And that’s just the first three songs from his playlist he dubs “an incomplete list of songs that have captured my (admittedly fragmented) attention this summer of 2026,” which also dives into older classics from Russell himself, The Shangri-Las, Psychic TV, Alice Coltrane, and more.
Ahead of Shudder’s warm-up dates next month in Philly, NYC, Pomona, and LA, you can find Wedren’s selections below along with a detailed breakdown for each pick.
Charli XCX, “No One Lasts Forever”
I’ve been honking annoyingly about Charli since Pop 2 rearranged my molecules way back whenever that was [2017], and she continues to inspire and delight. I’m a fan of her messier, more experimental records, and this is that. Pop. Art. With the added bonus of David Cronenberg opining about death in a kind of early–Steve Reich tape loop phasing experiment for the entire second half of the song. Somehow it all feels like young longing, though, heart-not-head music.
2hollis, “Hurt”
As far as I’m concerned 2hollis is the best producer (in the electronic/pop sense, where production, arranging, and songwriting are all kind of one thing) making music right now. My mouth waters when I listen to his best stuff, and I’m like, “Damn, I wish I’d thought of that—how’d you do that?” There usually aren’t that many elements in his tracks, but it somehow feels like the most maximal body music just because what’s there gets pulled and stretched and worked like taffy. This one takes elements of house piano and Miami bass and just shatters it on the wall. Don’t get thrown by the slightly awkward rapping at the top; this song goes to the moon and back. Like with hardcore or noise, the fatigue can be real after a few songs, but it’s such a thrilling high while it lasts.
Nirosta Steele, “Boss Trix (Benny’s Song)”
I don’t know when this song was made, but I think it’s, like, 40 years old and it’s so much better than most of the steamy, vibe-y summer disco wallpaper that’s been emanating from the fusty indie quadrant of late. It’s almost like a template for that music, but feels more authentic and genuinely strange to me. The surprise of the summer.
Arthur Russell, Open Vocal Phrases Where Songs Come in and Out
This is a full album, not a single song, but it feels like a single gesture. Arthur Russell is a desert-island artist for me. Virtually all of his music is excellent, and a lot of it is legit transcendent. He covers a vast amount of territory, style-wise, but for me it’s his meditative, playful, poetic cello-vocal-delay jams (see: World of Echo) that speak to my soul and feel most original, inspiring, and nourishing. So imagine my delight when this archival live recording was released last year. Another perfect planet in my favorite galaxy. Ineffable.
Amy Miles & Craig Wedren, “Free Los Angeles”
After Shudder to Think hit pause in the late-’90s I wanted to break the art-punk straitjacket that we’d woven for ourselves and make some sugary pop music to cleanse the palate. I’d been nursing a concept about an artist named “Throbian”—part pop idol, part porn star—whose music would be made from the detritus of new wave, post-punk, disco, and bubblegum (this was before the ’80s revival, and felt verboten and also superfun at the time). I started sampling my favorite records from the late-’70s and early-’80s and rearranging them into mobiles of songs, as if the progressive pop tendencies of the early ‘80s had never given way to boring hair metal and grunge, but jumped right to Warp Records’ heyday. “Free Los Angeles” was the first of these experiments, and led to the formation of my beloved band Baby, whose members included one of my besties, Amy Miles. Cut to 2025, when I was in the middle of composing score and songs for Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass. The movie is, among other things, a paean to LA, and Amy’s voice is the through line for all of the original songs in the film. It seemed like a perfect opportunity to revisit and update “Free Los Angeles” with a more 2026 chassis, especially now that pop music has basically turned into what I was dreaming of way back in the ’90s. (See: Charli XCX and 2hollis, above!)
Shudder to Think, “Playback”
“Playback” is the first song I wrote for the new Shudder record. I was scoring a sitcom when I got a new Marshall amplifier plug-in, which I would keep active as I was making music for this very mainstream show. Whenever I needed a change of scenery, I’d play my Goldtop Les Paul (the one I used in Shudder) through the Marshall plug-in and the riffs would just pour out. Then I’d get back to the plink-plonk pizzicato score. Kind of a perfect balance of extremes. This was the song where I was like, “Maaaybe we could make a new record…?” Cut to…
MADJB, “Higher and Higher”
When Theodore Shapiro and I wrote this song at the turn of the century, we couldn’t stop laughing about how our creative peak might be a joke song. It also opened up a whole side-career for me of making songs for movies and shows that you think are real, and are sure you know from somewhere, but upon deeper inspection turn out to be parodies that aim to beat the very songs they’re parodying in a non-ironic way, just by being great songs in and of themselves (hopefully). Thank you, Teddy, and happy 25th anniversary, Wet Hot! This is technically a cover of the original song, performed by me and Middle Aged Dad Jam Band, a love-bomb of a cover band plus comedy bits helmed by forever-pals Ken Marino and David Wain.
Robyn, “Dopamine”
Does Robyn make you cry? Yeah, me neither (especially not when I’m listening to “Because It’s in the Music”). “Dopamine” is from Robyn’s latest record, and it’s wonderful—just shut up and put it on. Thank you, Robyn, I love you, Robyn.
Aldous Harding, “Riding That Symbol”
Aldous Harding is one of my favorite #1 space queens. The album Designer came out somewhere around COVID, and my family and I listened to it so much—it’s embedded in our DNA. It’s possible that her new album Train on the Island is even better, but there’s a lot more going on these days than during lockdown, when one could really sink into and commune with an album in its entirety (not to wax nostalgic about that weird era). That said, this is one of the songs off of the new one where I was like, “Damn, how she do that.” Intimate but other, accessible but totally idiosyncratic. Witch of many voices. I love that she uses the whole voice, and slips in and out of what feel like different characters that all live inside her, but not in an off-putting or overly theatrical way.
Psychic TV, “Just Drifting”
The album Dreams Less Sweet by Psychic TV is one of the most important records to me and still informs music that I make on the daily, especially the score for Yellowjackets (shoutout to Anna Waronker, co-composer—you should listen to her music, too, if you know what’s good for you). I’d always assumed that was their first album, but recently found out about Force the Hand of Chance, which begins with this gem. I like Genesis P-Orridge’s singer-songwriter side (in addition to the evil, gnarly, transcendent stuff, obviously)—melodic and simple on the surface, but always a little unsettling.
The Shangri-Las, “He Cried”
I had somehow slept on the greatness of The Shangri-Las (beyond the big hits), and by extension the unique brilliance of their producer/songwriter/arranger Shadow Morton—but holy cow, what a treat to discover. Somehow the unresolved melody when they sing “he cried” followed by the blasé spoken-word group echo kind of encapsulates the sliiightly unsettling-but-always-dramatic and above all hooky AF appeal of their music. It feels dark to me, but also transcendent. I may be spotting a pattern here in my taste…
Depeche Mode, “Something to Do”
This is the first song off of my favorite DM album, Some Great Reward, with which I have great, passionate, 15-year-old associations. I’d forgotten about it until a few months ago when it came on the “radio.” On the last day of recording the new Shudder to Think record we did a quick-’n’-dirty cover of it, which is on the new Who Sent You EP. It speaks not only to being young and bored in a post-industrial English town, but also to being young and bored in Cleveland, where I was raised.
Alice Coltrane, “Transcendence”
This isn’t just a summer song; this one is perennial. I curate and compose music for psychedelic therapy sessions, and “Transcendence” is often the ecstatic peak of the journey. For me, it’s a holy, visceral thing that reminds me of how in Kabbalah, Hebrew letters aren’t just symbols that form representations of things (as is the case with most languages), but powerful, divine things unto themselves. This song isn’t just a vessel or sacrament, it is the Thing itself.
Craig Wedren, “SOLOPIANO1”
This is my first installment in a series of original pieces I intend to make for Kanopy, a ketamine clinic run by dear pals. This one’s a portal, meant to settle and ease you in—then the fun begins.
