If that whole “acting” thing doesn’t work out for Finn Wolfhard, star of Stranger Things and director of recent slasher-comedy Hell of a Summer, then maybe he should give this whole “music” thing a fair shot. The kid’s got the credentials: two years providing lead vocals and rhythm guitar for the Canadian indie rock quartet Calpurnia, defunct as of 2019, five years as one half of the Aubreys (formed with Calpurnia’s erstwhile drummer Malcolm Craig), and now, a few tender days as a solo act via his new record, Happy Birthday, a lo-fi, distortion-happy chunk of garage band joy.
There’s a sense of self-amusement to the record; should Mike Wheeler leave behind the Upside Down and Hawkins, Indiana, he’ll sustain himself through college with mixtapes comprising bands that seem to inform its sound, like Nirvana, Descendants, and Green Day, with a bit of the Beatles as seasoning for good measure. It’s possible that Wolfhard made Happy Birthday with the same justification in mind that other creative types make for their craft, be it beer, or movies, or music: he produced the kind of album he likes to listen to, molded by his personal influences but given its final shape by his point of view. This is easygoing work that’s unimpeachably fun to listen to, and deceptive in its straightforwardness—a combination of “impressive accomplishment” and “good times.”
A shred of that identity is nestled in the conception. Wolfhard put it to himself to bang out 50 songs by the end of 2022, a labor he succeeded in and from which he curated Happy Birthday’s slim nine track structure; you’d imagine the resultant music to be fundamentally uneven given Wolfhard’s specific self-imposed constraint, but whether he’s in full on pop-rock mode or embracing contemplation on folksier tracks, the entire record remains of a piece. 2025 is a year where Wolfhard is determined to find himself as an artist, if you accept making a summer camp horror film as a legitimate step toward personal discovery. (Note: You should.) Hell of a Summer is slightly less integral to that journey only because it isn’t “about” him the way that Happy Birthday is about him: It’s the Finn Wolfhard show.
A display of ego from Wolfhard, though, is scarcely egotistical at all. He’s much too nice to be a narcissist. Happy Birthday humbly ambles along, telling stories rooted to his personal neuroses at varied MPHs: “Crown,” “Eat,” and “Objection!” rock, while “You,” “Everytown There’s A Darling,” and “Trailers After Dark” reflect, though truth to tell, he doesn’t need to slow things down for a moment to ponder. He’s conscious enough of his emotions to articulate them even at lively rhythms, like on “Crown,” which frankly reads like anti-ego. “I still have a lisp / I still have some fans / But I never thought I’d dream of you,” he chirps on the first verse, before asking—politely!—if he can wear a fancy-pants headdress. How nice! Most monarchs don’t even bother with the question. They just assume the answer is “yes.” Not Wolfhard, he’s the democratic sort.
Whether “Crown” is about his screen career writ large or about, perhaps, a lifelong rocky relationship with popularity, the track’s anxiousness clangs pleasingly against its upbeat tempo. It’s one of his unfailing qualities as a young man: positivity even when asking the hard questions we don’t ask ourselves. “And what did I do / To make me hate you so much?” he wonders on “Objection!,” breaking hard from the traditional formula clung to by so many sad, dejected white boys who do with heartbreak and disappointment the only thing that can be done: write crummy guitar-forward emo music and blame it on the other person. Wolfhard’s mordant question cuts with a serrated edge; people rarely think in terms of their own choices in the context of songs like “Objection!”
Maybe “Eat” should’ve come after “Objection!” in Happy Birthday’s tracklist; on this, the album’s liveliest bop, Wolfhard talks about passion in a holding pattern. “Back and forth / Switching hate to desire,” he sings, then segues into a classic chorus of “oohs” to the clap of snare drums and a pluck of his guitar. Then again, unpacking one’s conflicted wants and fears follows no logic. It’s a sentimental process. In its own way, after all, Happy Birthday is a sentimental album, and a remarkable demonstration of Finn Wolfhard’s laid-back, instinctive approach to songwriting.
Bostonian culture journalist Andy Crump covers the movies, beer, music, and being a dad for way too many outlets, perhaps even yours. He has contributed to Paste since 2013. You can find his collected work at “his personal blog.” He’s composed of roughly 65% craft beer.
