Between them, artists on the Historic New Jersey record label — which, despite its name, is headquartered in South Philadelphia — have released dozens of full-length albums and EPs since the start of the decade.
That’s a whole lot of indie music in a wide range of styles coming out of a South Philly basement studio, all demonstrating an old-school dedication to craft that prizes first-class songwriting above all else.
And it’s all being created by a small group of close friends who moved to Philadelphia as adults. They all contribute to one another’s records and play in one another’s bands.
The Historic NJ collective core consists of just five musicians, four of whom gathered in their subterranean studio for an interview on a recent summer day.
Emily Moales records as Star Moles — a self-described “sci-fi DIY Wi-Fi band.” She has a new album with a cheeky title that nods to AC/DC called Highway To Hell. It’s one of the most acclaimed releases of the year.
Kevin Basko is super prolific as Rubber Band Gun, and is the label’s founder and producer. He also teams with his housemate Moales in the brash Hot Machine, which he compares to Gorillaz, “like a fake band, something we can have a little more fun with.”
And siblings Sam and Louise Sullivan are a folk-pop duo whose third album, Love & Devotion, released this week. It moved pop culture magazine Paste to call them “the next great family band.”
Drummer and comedian Jem Seidel, who keeps the Historic NJ beat in the studio and onstage, is the fifth core member of the collective.
‘The song comes first’
Moales, 27, is a New Hampshire native who started making music with Basko — a Berklee College of Music grad who has toured as a member of indie band Foxygen — after they met online in 2017.
Basko, 34, grew up in Monmouth County in Central Jersey, where he came up with the Historic NJ moniker.
He was intrigued by Moales’ imaginative ‘70s style folk rock. “She reminded me of Stevie Nicks,” he says and admits he initially clicked on her Twitter profile because she used a Barbra Streisand photo as her profile picture.
“There was an instant sense that we were on the same page,” Moales recalls. It took only a week to record their first work together, the Star Moles album Camelot, in 2018. Two weeks before the pandemic began in 2020, Moales and Basko moved to Philly, a city where he had made friends while working as a touring musician.
The Sullivans grew up in Portland, Ore., and New York, raised by music loving parents who schooled them in Woody Guthrie, Richard and Linda Thompson, and traditional Irish music.
Sam Sullivan, 35, who lives in Germantown, moved to Philly in 2016 to take a job teaching English literature at Germantown Friends School, where he still works. His sister, 30, followed a few years later and has also taught at GFS, but is now focused on music and her ceramics business.
In 2022, Basko messaged the Sullivans on Instagram after seeing a video of the siblings performing in a West Philly backyard. They soon joined the Historic NJ song-making family.
“We all share a philosophy, you know?” said Moales, who’s worked retail and food service jobs since moving to the city, including at sustainable general store Good Buy Supply. “All of us here, we’re just truly songwriters at heart. We hold the song as holy, above everything.”
“The vibe comes later,” Basko said. “The song comes first.”
Once assembled, the Historic NJ crew began quietly — and quickly — making music under the radar.
The Sullivans’ debut album Papier Mâché, which includes “Holy Philly,” an ode to their adopted hometown, came out in 2023. Star Moles’ Snack Monster, inspired by Andreas Capellanus’ 12th-century treatise Rules of Courtly Love, was released last year.
Basko makes music at a dizzying pace. The multi-instrumentalist who cites Todd Rundgren as a “musician producer” role model has a staggering 84 releases available on his Bandcamp page. Listeners are truthfully advised: “There’s something here for everyone.”
He’s also made music for TV shows like Walker and Superman & Lois. And he welcomes clients like Brooklyn violinist Marji Shemanski, who was due in for a session later the day of the interview.
People are getting hip
“There’s all this great stuff happening, with people getting hip to what we’ve been doing, said Basko, speaking while sitting cross-legged in front of a control board with a custom made big red button that he presses to start recording sessions with dramatic flair.
Jones, his pint-size Boston terrier, sits in his lap. The carpeted room is full of old-school analog recording equipment, with a kitschy guitar-shaped lamp illuminating posters from three Muppets movies.
“But there’s no greater feeling when a second ago we didn’t have it, and a minute later, we do. Prince talks about that. People don’t know what they’re missing when they don’t have that experience of creation,” Basko said.
People are definitely getting hip to Historic NJ. Highway To Hell is a unanimous best-of-2026 pick by taste-making sites like Stereogum and Brooklyn Vegan. The album, which came out in February, will be rereleased by a larger, yet-to-be-announced indie label this fall.
“Emily’s leading the pack in terms of pure industry success,” said Basko. “I keep making the joke that she’s falling into the volcano in a ceremonial way, into an industry that isn’t always kind. It’s like [Indiana Jones and the] Temple of Doom.”
The spotlight is also shining on the Sullivans, who have sung together all their lives.
“Our dad really loved music,” Louise Sullivan said. “He wanted his family to play music. They would give us a song to learn and we would sing it at the end of dinner.”
“Like Pete Seeger songs, or the Watersons, or ‘Here We Come A-wassailing,’” said Sam.
“Or Kirsty MacColl,” added Louise. “Sam would play mandolin and I would sing.”
Sam Sullivan calls himself “a failed poet.” He had never written songs before moving to Philadelphia. But while planning to work on graphic arts projects, he played guitar instead and started putting words to music.
“Sam is one of the most brilliant songwriters I’ve ever heard,” said Basko. “I’ve been trying to be a songwriter my whole life. So for Sam to be just ‘Oh I started just a few years ago’ is mind-boggling.”
“I’m not really a musician,” said Sam Sullivan.
Last year, Jeff Tweedy of Wilco put the Sullivans’ album Sweet Enough on his 10 best list, calling it “really beautiful, well-crafted folk-pop” with “guitar parts I find really fun to learn.”
That led to a high profile gig at Wilco’s Solid Sound Festival in North Adams, Mass., last month, which turned into a coming-out party for the collective.
The Sullivans played a stripped-down set inside Mass MoCA, the contemporary art museum where the festival is held, as well as a crowd pleasing outdoor show, backed by their Historic NJ compadres.
“It went great,” said Louise Sullivan. “We rocked our little hearts out,” her brother added.
An elusive band
Opportunities to see the Historic NJ groups perform live are scarce. In May, the whole crew banded together and played a two hour show at Johnny Brenda’s.
Star Moles’ last solo show was on Friday, opening for Hannah Cohen at 118 North in Wayne. And the Sullivans have one gig that requires a road trip: opening for Iron & Wine in Lowell, Mass., on Aug. 7.
The siblings would love to become a touring band, but will have to wait, probably till next year when Sam has the summer off from teaching.
Meantime, there’s music to be made.
On a whiteboard in the Historic NJ studio, Basko and Moales worked out the track listing for the next Rubber Band Gun album, due next month. And Sam Sullivan was working up songs for another release with his sister, which they hope to release by year’s end.
“We want to play shows,” said Louise Sullivan. “But you have to make music to play shows, and I feel like that’s the thing we love to do.”
Everyone nods in agreement.
“We want to make the next thing already. That’s what’s invigorating. That’s what’s going to last.”
