Greta Van Fleet
– The Battle at Garden’s Gate
The Battle at Garden’s Gate is Greta Van Fleet’s attempt to step out of the Led Zeppelin cosplay closet and into their own ornate little cathedral of sound—and to their credit, they built it with ambition, not just incense and velvet. It’s longer, more expansive, more theatrical, and full of the kind of wide-eyed grandeur usually reserved for prog bands who read too much Tolkien. They’re reaching for the stars here, even if their boots are still sunk in classic rock mud.
Josh Kiszka belts every note like he’s trying to heal the sun. His voice—still pitched somewhere between Robert Plant and a wayward archangel—sails over arrangements packed with cinematic swells, acoustic interludes, string flourishes, and guitar solos that scream in cursive. You get the sense they were aiming for timeless. Sometimes they get it. Sometimes it’s more like a well-produced fever dream of every band your uncle ever played on vinyl at 3AM while explaining “what music used to mean.”
Lyrically, they’ve gone full mythic. Wars, faith, freedom, fate—it’s all here, dressed up in robes and glowing symbols. But instead of feeling pretentious, it often lands with a kind of sincere naiveté. They believe this stuff, or at least they play it like they do. And even when they overreach, it’s more interesting than staying safe. The Battle at Garden’s Gate isn’t about subtlety. It’s about big, loud, bleeding-heart rock music delivered with the unfiltered confidence of a band who still thinks they can change the world by hitting a high note.
Choice Tracks
Heat Above
Opens like the beginning of a holy rite, all organ haze and wide-open sky. Then the drums hit and you’re lifted straight into a hymn for the disillusioned. Josh’s falsetto is borderline operatic, and the band floats behind him like they’re playing on clouds made of vinyl.
Broken Bells
The closest they get to vulnerable, which in Greta terms means slowing down just enough to let the melancholy seep in. It builds like a sunrise, all patience and pain. The guitar solo doesn’t scream—it aches. A rare moment of restraint, and it lands hard.
My Way, Soon
One of the few barn burners here. Less mysticism, more “get in the van and drive.” The lyrics read like a mission statement, and the riff bounces like it’s been cooped up too long. A reminder that they can still boogie when they want to.
Stardust Chords
Maybe the most psychedelic they get on this one. The groove shuffles, the guitars swirl, and the whole thing feels like it’s wearing embroidered bell-bottoms. There’s something playful buried under all the haze.
The Weight of Dreams
The epic closer, clocking in at eight minutes of pure, sprawling excess. It’s packed with solos, tempo shifts, and enough bombast to power a stadium light show. It’s too much—and that’s kind of the point. They’re showing off, and they know it.
Greta Van Fleet may still wear their influences like vintage jackets, but The Battle at Garden’s Gate proves they’re learning how to tailor their own. It’s earnest, dramatic, a little ridiculous—and absolutely not boring.