The first note of “Weightless” feels like the snap of a band-that-was finally allowing itself to settle. There’s a stillness here that’s more intentional than accidental, as though Pullman have recalibrated their clocks in anticipation of a long overdue reunion. The track arrives as the leading single from their new album III, due January 9 2026 via Western Vinyl.
Pullman first gathered in Chicago’s late-’90s post-rock fringes, with members including Ken “Bundy K.” Brown, Doug McCombs, Curtis Harvey and Chris Brokaw — all steeped in projects that emphasised texture, mood and instrumental depth. Their debut Turnstyles & Junkpiles (1998) and its follow-up Viewfinder (2001) built the group’s reputation for subtle, acoustic-driven instrumental work.
“Weightless” effectively picks up the thread after more than two decades. The guitars circle and overlap, voices absent, yet the piece brims with personality. Rather than rushing into big gestures, the track stays low, building its space slowly, observing more than proclaiming. The atmosphere is spacious and time-stretched, echoing Pullman’s old instincts but also acknowledging the weight of absence — a band returning, matured, measured.
Pullman are finding strength in that quiet rather than hiding behind it.
What stands out is how the track manages familiarity without repeating itself. Pullman’s signature acoustic interplay is still there, but this feels less about exploration than reflection. There’s a reflective calm in the recording, as though the band members are conversing with each other across years. The production is clean, the room felt rather than filled, and the silence between notes as meaningful as the notes themselves.
In the larger arc of the band’s career, this single signals both continuity and change. The early albums introduced Pullman as craftsmen of quiet landscapes; now “Weightless” suggests they are finding strength in that quiet rather than hiding behind it. The fact that this track leads into III indicates they aren’t simply revisiting their past—they’re letting what they learned sit beside them. From the lush ambient folk-instrumental of ‘98 to today’s stripped resilience, there’s a lineage and yet a new chapter.
For longtime listeners, “Weightless” may feel like meeting an old friend who has learned how to speak softly but with purpose. For newcomers, it offers a compelling introduction: this is music not about filling space but about inhabiting it. It may not shout, but it listens—and in that listening, there’s clarity, subtle drama, and the quiet thrill of arrival.
