Shopping Cart is an album with a double bottom, where Carter Brady transports us to an era when music was defined by guitar and voice—not by a race for likes or whatever trends are in play. This New York-based independent musician, with nearly fanatical attention to detail, revives the spirit of the ’90s with its slightly hazy, almost dreamlike atmosphere and raw guitar energy.

Echoes of bands like Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, and even early Beck are woven through every track, yet Shopping Cart doesn’t mimic them directly. Instead, it uses them as a tuning fork to bring listeners into Brady’s own groove.

photo by Alexa Jae

From the very first track, you can almost smell the old vinyl and hear the guitar slide roughly across the sound—neither smooth nor polished. It’s even a bit frustrating, as if Carter Brady deliberately denies you that “perfect” sound. I get it—there’s not an ounce of chance here. Every imperfection is a piece of his philosophy. What he cares about is that you remember what it’s like to truly listen to music, not just analyze it.

And know that Shopping Cart and its songs are like small rooms where Carter has placed old armchairs, a bit dusty, with worn-out armrests. You sit down and realize: this feels more like reconnecting with something that’s nearly vanished. That’s its magic—it gives the feeling of a private conversation, filled with memories, understanding, and a gentle nostalgia for a time when music was truly felt, not just consumed as a business product.

From the first chords of We’re Talking—sharp, dense, yet filled with a light nostalgia—you immediately sense he isn’t here to play nice. Groovy guitars, a confident beat, vocals melting into the sound—all come together with effortless energy. It’s a meticulously crafted atmosphere where every sound seems to know its place.

Instead picks up the baton and takes us into deeper waters. Here, the ‘90s are unmistakable—not a rehash of clichés, but subtle hints. Brady has tapped into the essence of that era, only to carve out his own sound. The guitars are rhythmic, the vocals almost delayed, creating a feeling of a slowed-down memory slowly unfolding through textured arrangements.

Late Night Temptations brings a touch of lightness, even a pop-rock tenderness, but doesn’t lose its spark. The guitars fill the space, powerful drums drive the beat, and together they create that nostalgic undertone that latches onto the subconscious.

photo by Alexa Jae

So Late builds on this vibe—Carter’s vocals come through with a grunge edge, styled but without parodying the ‘90s. Instead, his energy sparks, with powerful guitars bursting forth with untamed force and groove, like a wildfire. This track practically demands a place in every playlist; it’s impossible to ignore.

Then comes Lost In This World, breaking expectations—a smooth shift into something more modern, blending pop-rock with experimental elements. Carter seems to pull us into a slow drift, wrapping us in dreamy guitars and sensitive vocals.

Returning to the ‘90s with Go Home, Carter shifts tone again—this track brings a touch of melancholy lyricism, with guitars front and center. The sound is dense and rich, as if you’re momentarily transported to the heart of a club gig, where the only thing that matters is the sound filling everything around.

And then Invincible takes the stage, and the atmosphere changes once again—light and airy but with a depth brought by Lori Goldston’s cello (the touring cellist for Nirvana). It’s one of the most emotionally charged songs on the album, slow and smooth, as if the album is giving us a breather, drawing us deeper into itself.

Suppressed feels like a conversation with himself. Carter plays every instrument, weaving himself into the sounds, creating a personal space where one can simply pause and be still. The final track, How Come It Happens?, is the closing chord where indie guitars and pop vocals lift the sound to a modern level, echoing the grunge era’s waves.

Carter Brady is a curious phenomenon. He’s like the guy from down the block who steps onto the stage with his guitar, just doing what he knows best, as if he’s not trying to impress anyone but himself. Maybe he isn’t trying to impress anyone at all. You put on Shopping Cart, and instead of the expected chase for trends or another playlist placement, you get an honest, almost homey conversation.

Shopping Cart is an album that doesn’t try to be liked, and that’s precisely what makes it work. Carter Brady isn’t chasing approval, he stays true to himself, even if it makes him a bit “uncomfortable” for the mainstream.

*This review was made possible by SubmitHub