B-Side Guys

Completion brings perspective. Spencer Sanders’ full Almanac arrives a year after Volume 1 established his voice as essential chronicler of queer experience in the American West. The additional seven tracks don’t just extend the original—they transform it into hour-long exploration of identity reconstruction after religious deconstruction, creating complete emotional weather system that lives up to the album’s meteorological conceit.

The original eight tracks maintain their power within the expanded context. “Rust” still opens with unflinching betrayal examination, while “Golden Age” no longer functions as conclusion but rather as pivot point toward deeper terrain. This recontextualization demonstrates Sanders’ compositional intelligence—he built Volume 1 to stand alone while knowing exactly where the additional material would lead.

“The Cost” arrives as one of the new additions, examining what gets sacrificed in the process of becoming authentic. The track acknowledges that claiming queer identity after Mormon upbringing involves losses that can’t be minimized or dismissed—relationships, community belonging, the comfort of certainty. Sanders doesn’t flinch from documenting these genuine costs while insisting they’re worth paying.

“Bird Song,” featuring The Penny Candies, provides collaborative moment that expands the album’s sonic palette. The addition of outside voices creates community feeling that counters the isolation themes running through earlier tracks, suggesting that rebuilding identity involves finding new circles of belonging.

The title track “Almanac” serves as the collection’s conceptual anchor, making explicit what Volume 1 suggested through metaphor. Sanders positions himself as both weather reporter and historian simultaneously, documenting emotional climate patterns while acknowledging the socio-political forces that shape personal experience. The track demonstrates how effective artists can make abstract concepts tangible through specific imagery and emotional honesty.

“Song of the Morning” introduces fresh perspective after Volume 1’s established themes. Where earlier tracks examined loss and reconstruction, this song explores tentative hope without demanding resolution. Sanders understands that healing isn’t linear—morning arrives whether we’re ready or not, bringing both possibility and the weight of another day to navigate.

“The Ghost” ventures into haunting territory, examining how past selves persist even after transformation. For someone navigating both queerness and ex-Mormon identity, ghosts become particularly resonant metaphor—the person you were raised to be doesn’t disappear just because you’ve claimed authentic identity. Sanders treats this complexity with nuance that avoids both nostalgia and bitter rejection.

“Healing” addresses the album’s central paradox directly. The track explores codependency and bipolar disorder management without reducing either to simple problems with simple solutions. Sanders’ willingness to examine mental health struggles alongside identity questions creates more complete picture of actual lived experience rather than compartmentalized issues.

Closing track “The Last Page” provides appropriate conclusion for collection that spans personal almanac’s full cycle. The title suggests both ending and the potential for new volumes, honoring what’s been documented while acknowledging that weather patterns continue beyond any single observation period.

The expanded runtime—full hour compared to Volume 1’s thirty-three minutes—requires sustained engagement that pays dividends for attentive listeners. Sanders has created work dense enough to reward repeated listening while maintaining accessibility that prevents alienating casual audiences.

Dean Miller and Landon Alley’s production throughout maintains the balance established on Volume 1, creating sonic landscapes that serve the material without overwhelming it. The Nashville session musicians—including JT Bates, Steve Nathan, Troy Lancaster, and others—provide professional foundation that allows Sanders’ piano-led storytelling to shine.

The genre-blending approach Sanders describes—chamber pop, Americana, folk rock—emerges organically from his diverse influences rather than calculated market positioning. References to Cody Fry, Jeff Lynne, Noah Kahan, Lana Del Rey, FINNEAS, and Joe Walsh suggest artist absorbing varied approaches to melody, production, and emotional communication while developing distinctive voice.

Sanders’ background trajectory—Boston to Carmel-by-the-Sea to Utah—provides geographic foundation that enriches without limiting the material. His Utah base adds particular dimension given the state’s complex relationship with LGBTQ+ identity and Mormon cultural dominance. Creating openly queer art from that location requires courage that informs the work’s emotional authenticity.

The recognition as Utah’s Best Artist at the QSalt Lake Fabby Awards reflects both artistic achievement and cultural significance within regional queer community. Sanders has created work that serves both personal expression and communal function, music that helps others navigate similar storms.

The album’s central paradox—”love doesn’t last, but what doesn’t last is worth loving”—provides philosophical framework that prevents the collection from collapsing into either cynicism or false hope. Sanders acknowledges impermanence while insisting on value, creating space for genuine engagement with life’s difficulties without demanding impossible permanence.

His stated influences from musical theater and poetry serve the songwriting well. The theatrical background shows in his narrative construction and emotional pacing, while poetic training appears in lyrical precision that rewards close attention. The combination creates songs that function on multiple levels—immediate emotional impact and deeper meaning revealed through repeated engagement.

The decision to release as two volumes rather than single sprawling album demonstrates strategic thinking about audience attention and artistic pacing. Volume 1 established foundation and earned critical recognition that prepares listeners for Volume 2’s additions. The year between releases allowed the original material to find audiences while building anticipation for completion.

Most importantly, Almanac succeeds because Sanders treats complex identity questions and mental health struggles with appropriate nuance while maintaining emotional accessibility. Rather than reducing queerness, religious deconstruction, or bipolar disorder to simple narratives, he creates space for examining how these experiences intersect and complicate each other.

The upcoming West Coast tour suggests Sanders’ confidence in these songs’ ability to translate to live performance. Material this personal requires particular courage to share in rooms full of strangers, but the album’s balance of specificity and universality should allow audiences to find their own experiences reflected.

Almanac establishes Spencer Sanders as artist capable of sustained creative development while maintaining the authenticity that makes his work essential. The collection provides both personal documentation and communal resource, creating maps that help others navigate similar weather patterns while honoring the unique particulars of his own journey.