Outroduction is a fitting title for The New Amsterdams’ final album because Matt Pryor always intended for it to be exactly that: an ending. By this point, Pryor was increasingly splitting his attention between his solo career and The Get Up Kids, leaving The New Amsterdams behind as the side project that had gradually grown into something much more substantial. Rather than forcing the band into another conventional album cycle, Outroduction closes the book with a collection that feels appropriately reflective. It is less a definitive statement than a final gathering of songs from a project that had accumulated a decade’s worth of ideas.
That history is also what makes Outroduction such an unusual listen. This is essentially a collection of B-sides and previously unreleased recordings assembled from sessions spanning roughly 10 years, with much of the material recorded in Pryor’s hometown of Lawrence, Kansas. There is no single recording period imposing a uniform identity on the album, and that lack of cohesion is immediately noticeable. Yet the material shares enough of Pryor’s musical DNA to keep the record from feeling completely scattered. Warm, organic textures dominate, with acoustic rhythm guitars serving as the foundation while pedal steel, harmonica, organ and piano gradually expand the arrangements.
The instrumental opener “Guitarkansas” establishes that atmosphere beautifully. It is arguably the most country-leaning recording Pryor ever made, built around rolling percussion and delicate pedal steel that gives the song an almost weightless sense of movement. There is something cinematic about it without becoming overly polished, capturing the sensation of driving down a Midwestern highway on a warm afternoon with nowhere particularly urgent to be. More importantly, it works as a sonic prelude for everything that follows. The song introduces the record’s sense of place before Pryor ever sings a word.
“Dear Lover” immediately builds on that foundation. Pryor has recorded the song both as a solo artist and with the full New Amsterdams lineup, but this version benefits from the added depth of the band. A driving piano melody gives the arrangement momentum while the country inflections of “Guitarkansas” are carried into a more recognizable strain of indie pop. Pryor’s nasal vocals are warm and direct, giving the song an unguarded quality as he explores the vulnerability that comes with romantic commitment. It is easy to understand why the song feels like a lost centerpiece from the Killed or Cured era. This is precisely the kind of emotionally straightforward, melodically strong material that could have anchored that album.
“Your Look Gave You Away” is perhaps the album’s most somber moment, though its musical backdrop initially suggests something lighter. An upbeat, midtempo folk-rock guitar riff carries Pryor through a song about nonverbal cues and emotional exposure, focusing on the way someone’s body language can reveal what they desperately want to conceal. The tension between the relatively buoyant instrumentation and the emotional subject matter gives the song its pull. More than that, it demonstrates the natural chemistry Pryor had with the New Amsterdams. Even when the songs originated as outtakes, there is rarely a sense that the musicians are simply filling space behind a singer-songwriter.
Pryor’s vocal performance is one of the album’s understated strengths. He alternates between confident, almost bombastic wailing and quiet whispers depending on what each song requires, allowing his voice to become another part of the arrangement rather than simply sitting on top of it. The acoustic and electric guitars remain the album’s bedrock, with the electric guitars generally clean and chiming while ambient textures slowly build around them. Pedal steel, harmonica, organ and acoustic piano broaden the palette without overwhelming the intimacy. These are melodies that Pryor could never have comfortably folded into The Get Up Kids, even if the idea that his solo material exists solely because it did not fit that band can sometimes be overstated.
The lyrics reinforce that sense of separation. Outroduction is preoccupied with aging, quiet domesticity and wanderlust, relationship friction and a sincere romanticism that feels increasingly distant from the youthful urgency of The Get Up Kids. Pryor is not writing exclusively about dramatic heartbreak or youthful alienation anymore. There is an awareness of ordinary life creeping into the songs, with commitment, emotional fatigue and the desire to escape existing alongside genuine affection. That balance gives the album a melancholy quality without making it overwhelmingly bleak. Pryor’s songwriting remains remarkably sharp, proving that a song’s status as a B-side says very little about the effort put into writing it.
The problem is that the album’s history eventually catches up with it. Because these recordings come from different periods and sessions, the structures and production styles vary considerably. One song may be a stripped-down acoustic performance while another suddenly introduces a much fuller multi-instrumental arrangement. There is no natural progression between these extremes, and the sequencing sometimes makes Outroduction feel less like a complete album than a carefully curated archive. That is not necessarily a fatal flaw, but it does limit how deeply the record can settle into a singular mood.
“Too Many of a Good Thing,” also recorded during the Killed or Cured sessions, illustrates the other side of that equation. While “Dear Lover” sounds like an obvious omission from that album, it is easier to understand why this track was left behind. The distinction is important because Outroduction does not magically transform every discarded song into a hidden classic. Some material sounds like it belongs here because it enriches the New Amsterdams’ world, while other songs feel like they are here primarily because there was finally a place to put them. The collection’s unevenness is therefore both its defining characteristic and its biggest weakness.
Still, there is something fitting about ending The New Amsterdams this way. A project built around Pryor’s desire to explore quieter and more personal songwriting ultimately concludes with a record that feels lived-in rather than grandiose. Outroduction does not attempt to manufacture a dramatic farewell or pretend these songs were all recorded with a single ending in mind. Instead, it captures different versions of Pryor’s songwriting across a decade and allows them to sit beside one another. The result is imperfect but sincere, with enough warmth, atmosphere and memorable songwriting to make the rough edges feel like part of the story.
As a final statement, Outroduction is more successful as a portrait of The New Amsterdams than as a perfectly constructed album. Its strongest songs demonstrate just how much Pryor could accomplish when he stepped outside the constraints of The Get Up Kids, while its weaker moments reveal the limitations of assembling a decade’s worth of leftovers into a cohesive whole. There are no signs of phoning it in, though. Even when the sequencing falters or the production shifts abruptly, Pryor’s commitment to melody and honest songwriting remains intact. For a project that became much bigger than it was originally expected to be, Outroduction provides a fittingly understated goodbye: melancholy, warm, imperfect and genuinely human.
For Fans Of:
- The Weakerthans — Reconstruction Site
- Pedro the Lion — Control
- The Promise Ring — Wood/Water