The Commute 2021: Q2 (1/3)
Featuring albums from: Demi Lovato, SUNDAYS, Genesis Owusu, Brockhampton, Taylor Swift, Pink Sweat$, Eric Church, Adeem The Artist, Elori Saxl, Porter Robinson, Giveon and Thomas Rhett.
March/April
Dancing With The Devil… The Art of Starting Over by Demi Lovato
Best Songs: “ICU (Madison’s Lullaby)”, “The Kind of Lover I Am”, “The Art of Starting Over”, “The Way You Don’t Look At Me”, “Anyone”
Content Warning: Substance abuse, near-death experience
I vividly remember the sheer terror in my gut as I watched updates come out on Demi Lovato’s overdose back in 2018. It’s always scary to think an artist you’ve grown up with or have been aware of for years might die within the following hours, but it was especially scary when it happened to Demi because it almost felt inevitable. It wasn’t long ago they announced that they relapsed after their six-year sobriety, and so soon after the desperate cry for help on “Sober”, it was clear that Demi wasn’t doing well. It’s a genuine miracle that Demi managed to survive and release this album after all. Honestly, any squabbles I have with it feel so minuscule because I’m mostly just happy this album exists. That Demi found themselves in a better place, more comfortable in their own skin, and finding the passion to make music again and tell their story of recovery.
A lot of critics have had this preface with their reviews of this album while following it up with the admittance that they didn’t like the album, but I’m willing to defend this album somewhat. Mostly because a lot of my issues with the album have very little to do with Demi themselves. Sure, they’re still a bit prone to oversinging and showing off their pipes just for the sake of showing off, but they’re at least better at controlling it as opposed to its abuse on Tell Me You Love Me. They’re more willing to hold themselves back a bit and let the grooves shine just as much as they do. Plus, they sound so alive singing about finding a better path in life that I found it really easy to like the album as a whole. After the heaviness of the album’s first arc, it was nice for the following arc to be mostly focused on satisfaction and being happy where they are. Especially when it comes to their sexuality on a song like “The Kind of Lover I Am”. I’ve watched them struggle to open up about their obvious queerness for years, so to finally hear them open up about it and be proud about who they are makes me really happy to hear. Honestly, this would probably be a genuinely great personal pop album on the level of Thank U, Next had the production worked a lot more often.
That sucks to say because there are moments where it gets close to genuine greatness. But for whatever reason, no one ever knows how to produce for Demi or utilize their strengths in a way that flatters them. Demi found a new manager in Scooter Braun, and honestly, you can kind of tell. For an album meant to be personal and reflective of Demi’s story, it feels just a little too calculated. Few too many songs that try to bring in extra star power or aim for a sound that’s not very flattering to Demi’s more loose, raw vocals. It’s very telling to me that the current single for the album is “Met Him Last Night”, the worst song on the album that only exists because they desperately need a hit, and radio loves Ariana Grande. But I don’t think Demi is aiming for crossover appeal. They can have some loose, fun songs here and there, but the album as a whole is a personal journey, and the fact that the label chose to push the easy Ariana Grande feature as opposed to the title track or “That’s The Kind of Lover I Am” which play better in the summer (especially with Pride Month coming not long after this album’s release), it tells me that their producers and their label are still trying to market Demi as a pop radio-friendly star. There’s a good chance that “Met Him Last Night” won’t even do as well as their feature on All Time Low’s “Monsters”. Probably because “Monsters” takes advantage of Demi’s pop rock past and pairs their furious vocals against production that’s actually willing to bite and roar as hard as them.
I guess my feelings on this album are overall kind of mixed, but it gave me a lot to think about. I do still like it quite a bit, and I’m sure their fanbase ate it up with ease. Good for them! I hope they enjoy it.
Inner Coasts by SUNDAYS
Best Songs: “All We Have Is Time”, “Take Me Home”, “Weightless Feathers”, “Shadow Dress”, “Song For The Times”, “Drifter”
This band always seems to sneak up on me. I usually like what I hear on the first listen, but I don’t think they’re going to be among my favorites of the year until the second listen. Though maybe in this instance what changed my mind a bit was the warmer weather. As we transition into the summer, SUNDAYS’ reliable folk sounds are an easy favorite of mine to listen to when I’m outside and feeling relaxed. Their 2019 album Wiaca proved to be one of the most resonant albums of its year, and while I think Inner Coasts doesn’t quite live up to that album’s subtle brilliance, it’s still a lot of the same sounds and themes that I fell in love with back on Wiaca. Songs of distant, melancholic loneliness that sound like falling leaves, gently settling on the ground. A lot of emotions and thoughts, but expressed in a quiet, unassuming way. This album is a lot less whimsical than the best moments of Wiaca, but it makes up for how much more powerful its quieter moments are. It feels like a continuous process of emotions regarding past loves and how it affects the art you create. When you create a muse, how do they see you when you reveal yourself so much in your art? How does that affect your relationship? Most importantly, how reliable is SUNDAYS as the narrator when it’s possible we will never get the full story? After all, the truth is just a paraphrase. Some interesting musings throughout the album that gave me a lot to ruminate on. It’s grown on me considerably since the first listen, and by the end of the year, I expect to love it just as much as I love Wiaca. If I’m feeling bold, maybe more.
Haram by Armand Hammer & The Alchemist
Best Songs: “Roaches Don’t Fly”, “Falling Out The Sky” ft. Earl Sweatshirt, “Black Sunlight” ft. KALYANA, “Chicharones” ft. Quelle Chris, “Scaffolds”, “Peppertree”, “God’s Feet”, “Wishing Bad” ft. Curly Castro & Amani
Content Warning: The cover art depicts a gruesome image of two decapitated pig heads. Approach at your own risk.
I initially didn’t plan on covering this album. Mostly because I wasn’t sure what I could say about it. I have a weird relationship with Armand Hammer, in that as someone who listens to music as a hobby, they’re not the kind of band that’s made for me. I’m not black, I’ve never experienced black discrimination, nor am I all that extreme on the political spectrum. Plus, I tend to prefer music that’s more direct in its themes and narrative. But I still tune into what Armand Hammer has to say because I really admire them. Both as artists and as activists. It’s hard to get away with music that “shocks” people nowadays, but that’s only if you’re looking at the broad definitions of “shock” meaning offensive or inappropriate. Armand Hammer’s brand of “shock” is speaking truth to power in a way that makes the consumer feel uncomfortable. Calling out not just the brutality of systemic racism and black death, but describing it in graphic detail and daring the listener to do something about it. To just lie there and let it happen as if it should be tolerated or seen as “part of the system”. Polo G can’t describe that level of detail because otherwise, he’d alienate his fanbase who want to see the pain and suffering but don’t want it to get too real. Lil Baby and Lil Durk know firsthand the violence and systemic issues that have traumatized them, but they have to paint themselves as leaders in a revolution to people who will never know the full extent of their inner torment. Hell, the cover art alone is a strong example of Armand Hammer’s shock value. Two decapitated pig heads, in all of their gruesome, bloody glory. It’s an incredibly sickening image.
I say all this with the utterly baffling fact that Haram is by far their most successful album to date. “Falling out the Sky” with Earl Sweatshirt is their first song to cross one million plays on Spotify. I guess I can’t be too surprised, as Armand Hammer have been critical darlings for years now. But still, one million plays on Spotify? This didn’t just get to critics, this got to parts of the general public. That’s wild to me, especially as Haram in particular is an album that plays with the concept of “accessibility”. Sure, the cover is likely going to turn some people off, but the production is a lot more accessible than previous albums. Part of why Shrines didn’t click with me enough to make my albums list is because I felt the production was just too dreary and dull to really make the album’s commentary land. It was good dreary and dull production, but again, I’m not that kind of listener. I like melodies and hooks and atmosphere. This is something Haram is able to pull off a lot better, thanks to additional production from The Alchemist, who is quickly rising the ranks as one of my all-time favorite producers. This time the production is… pleasant. There’s an increase of strings and woodwinds in the grimy percussion and occasional glimpses of jazz rhythms behind the otherwise pretty textures. It’s their least alienating production to date, which is probably why it ended up attracting people outside of their usual fanbase.
But it’s still strange to me when the album’s lyrics are so uninviting. Not that they’re hostile or anything, but it’s the kind of thing where if you really put the effort to read the lyrics and dissect them, it’s a challenge to understand what it all means. billy woods and ELUCID are aware of this too. A lot of the album focuses on their own come up and legacy within a system that’s built to destroy them. For as much as they reject the idea of selling out, it’s difficult to find the success and recognition they want without playing with the system that works against them. Being able to pull off black success even when that means playing to white sensibilities or pleasing the right people. It’s a tough line to cross, and among the album’s abstract rhymes and stories of loss, righteousness, and success, it feels like these are all internal monologues we can never truly understand. Or worse, we’re not supposed to. In a way, it feels like Armand Hammer don’t want you to listen to this if you won’t engage with it. Even with The Alchemist giving them a more accessible sound, there are moments on this album that can be really brutal like “Wishing Bad”, “Peppertree” and “Chicharones”. “Roaches Don’t Fly” ends on a pretty potent lyric telling the listener, “You don’t gotta be here if you don’t wanna”. If their musings and blunt extremism is too much for you, they won’t blame you for leaving. It’s not so much resentment as it is knowing where their place in hip-hop is, and how their success isn’t meant to be this widespread. But what can you do when that success is tied to that anti-black system? There’s never an easy answer, and I’m not even sure how many of these themes I even got right. Then again, maybe there is no easy answer. There’s not supposed to be. There’s a lot of room to grow from here, just depends on where it leads us.
Smiling With No Teeth by Genesis Owusu
Best Songs: “Don’t Need You”, “Another Black Dog”, “Drown” ft. Kirin J Callihan, “Whip Cracker”, “Black Dogs!”, “No Looking Back”, “Centrefold”, “Easy”, “I Don’t See Colour”, “Gold Chains”
I’ve never really subscribed to the idea of the “monogenre”. It’s the idea that genre is dead and that artists have the freedom to make whatever art they want without confining themselves into one label. Which is appealing on paper, but the truth is genre is a lot more than just the way art is marketed. Every genre has its own sound, style, and appeal, and to a lot of people that matters a lot more than whether or not that appeals to a wider audience. Plus, what I feel a lot of the conversation misunderstands is that artists blend genres together out of love for the genres they take inspiration from, not as an act of defiance against them.
Genesis Owusu’s Smiling With No Teeth is an excellent example of this. It’s hard to categorize this album as any one genre. You could argue it’s some form of neo-funk or neo-soul, but there are enough elements of pop, rap, jazz, gospel, and even rock elements that make it hard to really pin down what sound it’s trying to achieve. But that’s by no means a bad thing! Owusu clearly has a deep love of every sound and style on display. No one song sounds the same as the other, and each hook and groove is so infectious alongside Genesis Owusu’s lovable energy that you’re guaranteed to love at least one song in this selection. This album is unpredictable in the best possible way. Once you get through one song, you’re excited to hear the next and find out where it takes you. On a purely musical level, this is a brilliant use of genre-blending that shows a lot of love and admiration for the medium it borrows from. It’s not a cynical attempt to find mass appeal.
It’s a surprisingly righteous album too. One that’s more internally political than outwardly political as he confronts his identity and what that means for him and his future. The two black dogs motif that repeatedly comes back throughout the album is a manifestation of his complacency in racial injustice as a black man. One dog smiles through the pain and tries to distract himself from the bleakness for the sake of his own mental health. The other dog is the more blunt and righteous dog that wants to make a difference and fight against his oppression. You can kind of hear that in the way the two halves of the album shift. The first half is a lot more tongue in cheek while the second half goes for something angrier and more confrontational. What I love is that neither dog is particularly in the right, which is also why the two dogs clash with each other so often in Owusu’s mind. It’s the moral dilemma of choosing when to stand up for yourself and when to take care of yourself, and quite frankly neither dog is doing Owusu any favors. Sure, the first dog may be fun and keeping Owusu from spiraling, but every time that wall chips away, he’s ever closer to reaching a breaking point. And though the second dog is right to stand up for himself and fight for what’s right, it’s also the dog that will likely get him killed if authorities decide to use that anger against him. Even the ending has that complicated clash. “No Looking Back” would have been the optimistic, peaceful way to end the album, but “Bye Bye” brings a lot of those demons back, implying that even when he thinks he’s figured everything out, he’ll never truly shake off either of those black dogs. Not as long as that injustice affects him and everyone he loves.
ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE by Brockhampton
Best Songs: “WHAT’S THE OCCASION?”, “COUNT ON ME”, “THE LIGHT”, “THE LIGHT PT. II”, “BUZZCUT” ft. Danny Brown, “I’LL TAKE YOU ON” ft. Charlie Wilson, “DON’T SHOOT UP THE PARTY”
Content Warning: references to suicide and depression
I graduated college earlier in May, which makes Brockhampton dropping an album around that time really fitting to me. After all, I got into Brockhampton at the very start of college when SATURATION II dropped. I didn’t quite get into the first one, but the second one was definitely the start of me getting into the band’s unique bangers and sadboi anthems. Brockhampton albums are always kind of weird though. Especially in the SATURATION trilogy, a lot of the songs worked better on their own rather than as part of a full project. I revisit these songs all the time, but the albums themselves always felt like glorified compilations with the occasional dud breaking up the momentum of the album. It’s why something like iridescence made my albums list, while GINGER didn’t.
In my eyes, ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE is the best of both worlds. It has individual songs you can come back to again and again to fall in love with, but the album as a whole works incredibly well! It’s not just a fun, emotional journey to go through, but an opportunity to look into the band’s headspace and wade through the darkest period of their lives. iridescence felt more like the general detachment the band had as they transition into the mainstream and lose an essential member in the process. ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE is more of an internal battle. Learning how to define themselves apart from the SATURATION era and focusing more on the idea of a collective rather than each individual member. The first thing you’ll notice on this album is that the members themselves appear way more scattered and sparsely than before. Merlyn and Dom show up a little less often, Matt Champion is given a few more verses this time around, Jabari joins the front row and offers a couple of sung hooks, and now Brockhampton is allowing features to be included in the group or outright take over entire songs. I was kind of mixed about this at first, but then again, it is good to remind ourselves that Kevin, Matt, Dom, Merlyn, JOBA, and bearface aren’t the only members of Brockhampton. They have producers and art directors as well, and they are all just as important as the lead rappers. Honestly, on this album, it works to its advantage. Not only do the producers get to experiment a little bit more in how they implement each member and how the songs are structured, but it sets the focus on the more important themes of the album, mainly from JOBA.
Tragically, between this and GINGER, JOBA’s father committed suicide in his apartment, and that death and lingering questions of legacy and being at the end of the road is all over this album. Even when you get the straightforward party songs, there’s a lingering sense of danger in the atmosphere that gives you the impression that things are just a little bit unstable. Which is probably why their slower, ballad-like songs are a lot more in unison. It’s as if the band is giving itself a collective group hug. That’s essentially what “DEAR LORD” in particular feels like, where bearface takes the lead and essentially prays for JOBA to get through the grief of his father’s death safely. It’s especially powerful when you remember both of them have opened up about their own suicidal thoughts on previous albums. JOBA is the heart of the album, and why it’s easily Brockhampton’s best album. It’s nice to hear Kevin put some more firepower in his bars, but JOBA shows up on most of the album, whether it’s to share his own grief or be the lingering voice within all the members of the album. He has the best hooks, the best verses, and the two installments of “THE LIGHT” are among Brockhampton’s most emotionally potent and beautiful moments on the album, especially when “the light” can either be the bridge between life and death… or simply learning to move on and carry what you learned from those before you.
Fearless (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift
Best Songs on Fearless: “Love Story”, “White Horse”, “Hey Stephen”, “Fearless”, “The Way I Loved You”, “Fifteen”, “The Best Day”
Best Songs on From The Vault: “Mr. Perfectly Fine”, “Jump Then Fall”, “Forever & Always (Piano Version)”, “We Were Happy”, “Don’t You”
It’s kind of weird to call this one of my favorite albums of the year when none of it is actually new. Then again, Taylor Swift’s album re-recordings are a different case than other re-recordings. There’s a whole history behind the ownership of Taylor Swift’s masters and how she got completely screwed over by her old label. The main gist of it is Taylor is re-recording her old albums and giving them modern glow-ups because she’s now at a high enough status that she could take back her masters and still get millions of fans to fall in love with her music all over again. That’s kind of cool, to be honest. I know it’s popular to assume Taylor Swift is this privileged, mean girl-type celebrity, but in recent years she’s shown a level of humanity beneath her that, whether or not it’s manufactured, has led to her music feeling that much more personal and resonant with audiences even decades after albums like this release. Especially now that Taylor Swift is entering a point in her career where she’s close to moving on from the mainstream and doing her own thing, it’s the perfect time to look back at the album that cemented her as one of the biggest pop artists of all-time.
Listening to Fearless again, alongside some bonus tracks from the vault that hadn’t been officially released before, gave me a lot to think about in regards to how we view romantic melodrama when it’s given to us in certain styles and indications of “growth”. Going from evermore, an album with themes of alcoholism, bittersweet reunions, settling down and the rediscovery of long-forgotten feelings of the past, to Fearless, which is basic high school melodrama in its lyricism. It’s an interesting reminder of how we got to albums like evermore and folklore in the first place. Realistically, these albums aren’t that much different from each other. They all go through the same motions of falling in and out of love and reflecting on these relationships, whether they were for the better or for the worse. But while folklore and evermore were through the lens of sophistication and a long life lived, Fearless is much more in the moment. The song “Fifteen” alone shows how adolescent Taylor’s writing really is if she’s already nostalgic for something that, at the time, only happened four years ago.
But I don’t think the writing is any worse for it. In fact, with the benefit of hindsight and hearing these songs all over again with a fresh coat of paint, I say it’s only gotten better with time. Taylor Swift knew how to capture the raw, monumental feeling of falling in love for the first time that, when you’re a teenager, absolutely rings true to you. That meant she also captured the heavy sadness of heartbreak. Being smart enough to know it’s not the end of the world, but still feeling every single piece of your heart crumble to dust. I appreciate that it takes itself so seriously because while we love to laugh at our past selves and how bad we were at love, it’s also those moments of happiness and heartbreak that changed how we view relationships as we grew up. Maybe that first person you dated or fell in love with didn’t work out. You know now that you’ve moved on and either found better people or learned not to screw up something good you have with someone new. That doesn’t erase what you felt in that relationship though. Whether you thought they were the one or not. It’s good to remember that and humble ourselves because we were all teenagers who made dumb decisions out of love or desperation. I think Taylor knew that when re-recording this album. It feels like she’s reliving all of those old emotions all over again. Feeling the jealousy and desperation on “You Belong With Me”, the cinematic romanticism on “Love Story”, the hurt and broken anger on “White Horse”, the flighty joy of being in love with that cute boy on “Hey Stephen”, and more. None of it is all that relevant to Taylor now that she’s found someone to settle down with and complete her, but those past feelings are still real and are special in her heart. That’s something I think we should all strive for.
PINK PLANET by Pink Sweat$
Best Songs: “Low”, “Magic”, “At My Worst” ft. Kehlani, “Heaven”, “Beautiful Life”, “Paradise”, “17”, “PINK FAMILY”, “Icy”, “So Sweet”, “PINK MONEY”
It’s always the most simple albums that are the hardest to talk about. I could go into detail about the albums above, their themes, what they do right, their place in an artist’s discography, and everything. Meanwhile, this R&B pop album consisting of mostly makeout jams doesn’t require that depth, yet I like it more than almost every other album on this list. It’s very much an “it works for you or it doesn’t” type album. If you’re really into this brand of slick, polished R&B that doesn’t do much to innovate, but wears its heart on its sleeve, you’ll absolutely adore this album. The atmosphere is rich and dreamy, every song blessed with a liquid groove over Pink Sweat$’ gentle coo as you just let the album’s vibes take you away on a fluffy pink cloud. Escaping into a safe world where all your worries disappear. The only thing that matters is you and your muse cuddled up together and just experiencing each other’s love in your own quiet, comfortable way. You don’t have to think too hard about this album. You just put it on during a nice summer day or leave it on during a makeout session with a cute somebody and it’ll do the rest. That’s all it needs to do and executes it so perfectly that I wouldn’t have this album any other way. There is a bit of a shift near the end of the album that goes for something more dance-centric, but once you settle into it that shift actually works really well!
Heart & Soul by Eric Church
Best Songs on Heart: “Heart On Fire”, “Russian Roulette”, “Heart of the Night”, “Crazyland”, “Love Shine Down”, “Stick That In Your Country Song”, “People Break”
Best Songs on Soul: “Hell of a View”, “Lynyrd Skynyrd Jones”, “Bright Side Girl”, “Rock & Roll Found Me”, “Break It Kinda Guy”, “Where I Wanna Be”, “Look Good and You Know It”
Best Songs on &: “Doing Life With Me”, “Through My Ray-Bans”, “Kiss Her Goodbye”, “Mad Man”, “Do Side”, “Lone Wolf”
There’s been a lot of talk surrounding Eric Church’s ambitious triple album and its bizarre marketing plan. From the lead single being by far the least accessible song of the collection (and one of the most out of place now that we have the full picture) to one of the albums not even being available to the general public, to the surprising success of “Hell Of A View”, Eric Church’s biggest hit since “Give Me Back My Hometown” (or “Does To Me” with Luke Combs if you want to be picky) and the mere idea of a country artist making three full albums created from a series of homemade recordings. Eric Church says that Heart & Soul is meant to be a love letter to his fans, delivering on the kind of music his fans love while still dabbling in a bit of experimentation. This album wasn’t made to be marketed, which is probably why the label had a lot of trouble trying to promote this thing. It’s kind of a miracle that “Hell Of A View” became such a big hit after all. I think this rollout ended up making some people feel a bit on the fence about these albums, especially since for the most part none of these songs push the envelope or even stand among Eric Church’s absolute best material. Sure, the songs here are excellent, but there’s nothing better than “Record Year”, or “Springsteen”, or even “Desperate Man”. And most people have only heard Heart and Soul while skipping out on & intimidated by the paywall. Again, weird release strategy that I don’t think paid off as well as Eric Church wanted it to.
But that’s the marketing side of things. On the music side of things, I was loving every song leading up to these albums. I even caved in and got myself a Church Choir membership to get some vinyl deals plus be able to listen to & beyond its two singles. Spoiler alert, & is the best project in the trilogy and essential listening for any Eric Church fan. I hope Eric Church does eventually release this album to streaming (going to assume it happens sometime in the fall since that’s when the vinyl pre-orders start shipping) because it ties the two albums together in a way that feels really gratifying and rewarding. I think I like the burning passion on Heart a little more than Soul’s breezy satisfaction, but they both still have plenty of songs that capture the spirit of Eric Church’s best work. Songs like “Heart On Fire”, “Break It Kinda Guy”, “Stick That In Your Country Song” and “Look Good And You Know It” have the firepower and wicked personality that put Eric Church on the map while “Russian Roulette”, “Hell Of a View”, “People Break”, and “Bright Side Girl” have the contemplation and stewing of feelings that make up Eric Church’s strongest material. But the real core of the album lies within its more unifying moments. Songs like “Through My Ray-Bans”, “Love Shine Down”, “Where I Wanna Be”, “Doing Life With Me”, “Lynyrd Skynyrd Jones”, “Crazyland”, and the rest of the & EP have a sense of love and support from the communities they’re a part of and find refuge in the little moments of their lives. This can range from their love of music, their shared trauma, and isolation from society, or even something as simple as having someone you love beside you and feeling fulfilled about the choices that led you here. It’s very feel-good, comforting music that I find incredibly easy to come back to. I don’t expect it to be the best. I’m just glad to have these songs in my life. I got both Heart and Soul on vinyl with & having been pre-ordered for later this year. Spinning both albums on vinyl and hearing the love and care put into these simple, but beautiful songs made me appreciate them more and more. And you know what? Maybe these songs can stand up to Eric Church’s best. I just needed to open myself up and let them in.
& is currently unavailable to the public, but you can listen to the album by becoming a member of the Church Choir.
Cast Iron Pansexual by Adeem The Artist
Best Songs: “Fervent For The Hunger”, “I Never Came Out”, “Apartment”, “Reclaim My Name”, “Womyn Who Bartend”, “I Wish You Would’ve Been A Cowboy”
I referenced in my Morgan Wallen thinkpiece that I have a weird position as a country music fan. Not only am I a person of color who hasn’t lived in the Southern roots of the genre, but I’m also a queer person enjoying a genre that is, for the most part, very straight. As such, I end up really gravitating towards country artists within the queer spectrum. Namely, because that experience of isolation and uncertainty regarding identity and your place in the world is something I can directly relate to. It gives me a reason to continue enjoying a genre that on the outset shouldn’t appeal much to me. So obviously, when I was recommended a queer country album from a non-binary artist exploring their identity and learning to embrace their dysphoria, I knew I had to hear it the first chance I got.
The weird thing is, I think Cast Iron Pansexual took a while to fully click with me. I knew it was spectacular, but I guess it hadn’t hit that resonance with me quite yet on the first listen. Maybe it’s also a factor that music is coming out at a more rapid pace, so it might’ve been lost in the shuffle to hear new music. It took revisiting the album and letting it sit with me more where I felt like I truly got it. Adeem The Artist simultaneously has their shit figured out and doesn’t at the same time. The album starts with an immediate admittance of their queerness and experience with love, but their gender identity is the one that begins to build throughout the album. I remember being taken aback by “Fervent For the Hunger” for not just being an excellent song, but for the frequent callbacks to a dream where Adeem sees a vision of God as a woman holding a basket of treats, only to realize that vision of the woman is Adeem themselves. Projecting the image they wish they could have and feeling the “hunger” to have what she has. You even see this projection to embrace their womanhood in “Apartment”, which on the surface is a pretty basic love song about being in love with a straight man, but Adeem’s questions of if this man would love them more if they were a cis woman kind of taps into Adeem’s dysphoria regarding not just their identity, but their relationships. Wondering how different things would be if they were born a woman and had a different figure or expectation from those who don’t know their identity. “Apartment” in particular hit pretty hard for me, as my insecurity as a male-born non-binary lesbian makes me doubt whether any of the people I date would prefer me with a female body.
It makes the ending of the album especially powerful, as Adeem contemplates the nature of shame and how they wish they would turn that shame into pride and take back the years lost to their dysphoria and oppression. Try to reclaim their old name and turn it into something you could celebrate instead of treating it with disgust. But there’s a quiet acknowledgment that you can’t really change the past, but rather, embrace the present. You still got time left. Best embrace your newfound identity and make the most of it to make up for those lost years.
The Blue of Distance by Elori Saxl
Best Songs: Blue, Memory of Blue, The Blue of Distance, Waves I-III
This is a weird one for me. I’ve been peaking into ambient works a bit more often this year than previous years, and they don’t give me as much to say. To be fair, I don’t think you need to say much when it comes to ambient music. A lot of it speaks for itself. But this one gave me a very different feeling. I felt kind of detached listening to it. It lulls itself into a repetition that’s almost mind-numbing. It takes so much time building up its atmosphere only to reach an uncertain mood. The music is as nostalgic as it is alien. Like, you think you know what it’s supposed to be, but there’s something slightly off in the sounds and tones that swarm your ears. It’s hard to really explain, but between the long runtimes of the individual songs and the shifty interludes depicting the sounds of waves, what’s supposed to be a melancholic memory feels more like a looming threat. Elori Saxl says that the album is split into two halves. One representing the happiest days of her life, reminiscing on an incredible summer, the other trying to remember that summer in the dead of winter, where the memories become distorted and at points unreliable. It kind of adds to the hidden horror of this album. Realizing that experiencing bliss in the moment means that looking back once it’s all over loses the luster that made the memory so special. So instead you’re forced to recreate that happiness yourself, even if it doesn’t align with what really happened and how you really felt. It certainly makes sense. The production being so strange in its depiction of euphoria does make it sound less joyous than is typically expected. Then again, memories are hazy, and it’s the thesis to this album’s strange relationship with its own concept. It’s interesting enough that I’ve kept thinking about this album since I heard it, even if I haven’t gone back to it much at all. Guess that only drives home the message, doesn’t it?
Nurture by Porter Robinson
Best Songs: “Look At The Sky”, “Something Comforting”, “Musician”, “Blossom”, “dullscythe”, “Wind Tempos”, “Mother”, “do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do”, “Trying To Feel Alive”, “Mirror”, “Sweet Time”, “Get Your Wish”
It’s always a weird experience when you get into an artist’s work “late”. What I mean is when an artist has already created their magnum opus, but you end up gravitating more towards their newer projects because they’re the ones that convince you they’re an artist worth exploring. So the albums you’re supposed to consider the classics kind of lose their weight because you already knew what they were capable of. For many, that first project was the one that caught them by surprise. The one that captured their hearts and blew them away, opening the doors to developing their taste in music or discovering a new favorite that changes their lives forever. But for some… you get it, you know where the love comes from, but it’s not quite your favorite thing in the world.
That’s happened to me multiple times, most notably with The Avalanches. Obviously, Since I Left You was a classic, but I ended up loving Wildflower the most even after all these years. It was the first and most recent album I heard from them and as such holds a lot of nostalgic love for me in a way that Since I Left You never did. The exact same thing happened with Porter Robinson. His proper debut album, Worlds, is hailed by a lot of my friends as not only one of the greatest albums of all time but one so formative to their taste in music and even themselves as people. The thing is, I definitely understand why! It’s got some towering moments and I imagine the live show that came with it adds a whole different experience to the album that can’t be matched anywhere else, but it just didn’t have that same impact for me. I’m not much of a concert person to begin with and I never got into Porter Robinson when he broke through, so I felt a lot of the album’s magic just never resonated with me as much as my friends. Which probably meant Nurture was going to be the one to hit me the most.
Somehow, I was caught off guard. Based on the lead-off singles, I knew I was going to like this a lot. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for how much I would love this. Nurture serves a very different purpose than Worlds. While the latter is more centered on the spectacle and show of Porter Robinson’s music, the former is a little shyer. As if all of its spectacle lies within itself, anxious about sharing that spectacle with the world. This album was seven years in the making, and it’s hyperaware of how long the wait has been. So much so that, though the album has the same whimsy and emotional power as Worlds, it feels slightly more unsure of itself. Occasionally stopping itself to lie in its quieter moments, where the emotion comes from isolation and fragmentation rather than getting people out of seats. You can tell the pandemic affected this album, even if only a little bit. Without the proper festival setting to let the songs live as much as they did on Worlds, the album is forced to focus on itself. The paranoia and insecurity at the heart of all these songs is almost overwhelming. As if the electronic textures and sounds are sharp daggers digging into Porter’s mind. His voice goes back and forth between his regular singing voice and a pitched-up version of himself. I like to imagine these two voices as separate personalities of the same train of thought, each dealing with the same problem and simply aching for some semblance of understanding. All of it built around the making of this very album and living up to the expectations people have for it. Wondering if even trying to make an album as good as Worlds is even worth it.
The image I see when listening to this album is similar to the cover art. Being alone, in a large green field and an expansive blue sky. Alone with your thoughts, except those thoughts take the form of immense powers and explosive impulses. Whether you use those powers for good or evil… that’s up to you. It’s the power in that emotion that makes Nurture such a phenomenal album. Not only is the scale immense and beautiful, but Porter’s sincerity is so intense and whimsical that you find yourself experiencing the same emotions he’s going through. Feeling every cry for help and lingering doubt in your mind. It’s putting yourself in the shoes of an artist and their work, and the ways it can love you as much as crush you. At times it can get overwhelming, but the album’s quieter moments keep you on the ground. Reminding you to take a deep breath, and take that next step. Just face your fears and become your own hero.
When It’s All Said and Done… Take Time by Giveon
Best Songs: “Heartbreak Anniversary”, “This Ain’t Love”, “Like I Want You”, “Stuck On You”, “Vanish”, “Still Your Best”, “World We Created”, “All To Me”
Something strange happened when I listened to this album. I dunno if I was having a bad day, or if one of my moods hit just in time, but I got really… sad. Like, REALLY sad. Like I was going through a breakup or was reminded of an ex for whom I wish things ended better for us. It might’ve just been an isolated incident, but I still think it speaks to how fucking GOOD Giveon is at this whole “heartbreak” thing. He has such a strange voice that perfectly captures the mix of infatuation and desperation that colors these songs. He’s an incredible singer, one who can keep the poise and refinement while still allowing himself to be deeply messy. When It’s All Said And Done… Take Care wallows in its misery a bit… a lot, but it’s never to a toxic or infantile level. If anything, it feels like Giveon and his ex-partners are on equal playing ground with him. He may be hurt by their actions and where he thinks the relationship went wrong, but you can tell he never allows himself to resent those exes completely. There’s always enough room where his love for them stops him from getting more accusatory or outright mean. He doubts the love that they may have brought to him, but maybe there’s a reason Giveon is still so distraught over how things ended.
In a way, this album is a coping album. Not looking for any answers or clarity in its misery, though they’ll try to convince themselves otherwise, but still wanting all that grief bubbling inside of them to leak somehow. Still wanting it out there, whether she’s listening or not. Giveon is desperate for closure and a chance to make it all right, even though he knows it might never happen. It’s funny. This guy was put on the map thanks to his feature on Drake’s “Chicago Freestyle”. But in one compilation that technically isn’t even from this year, Giveon has already surpassed Drake in terms of artists in their feelings about an ex. Drake has always been too venomous for the sympathy to pull through, and he doesn’t have that crooning voice to convince you that maybe he’s the one that got away after all. I doubt Giveon will ever be bigger than Drake, but “Heartbreak Anniversary” has a very strong chance of becoming my song of the year, hit or otherwise. So he has the edge in my heart.
Country Again (Side A) by Thomas Rhett
Best Songs: “Ya Heard”, “Blame It On The Backroad”, “Country Again”, “Want It Again”, “Heaven Right Now”, “To The Guys That Date My Girls”, “Growing Up”
I came to the odd realization in May that Thomas Rhett is arguably the most important artist in my life. Not my favorite obviously, but I’ve had a fascination with him for so long that I can’t help but tune in whenever he rolls out a new album. He’s the reason I got into music criticism after all, and years later he’d make one of my favorite songs of all time in “Marry Me”. For as frustrating as his attempts to be a pop star in a country landscape can be, I think there’s enough promise and inspiration in Thomas Rhett’s starry eyes that has kept me coming back. That said, I didn’t care much for Center Point Road, and I worried it was going to spark the moment Thomas Rhett became complacent in making “Die A Happy Man” several times over.
But the rollout for Country Again, implied to only be half the experience, surprised me. Thomas Rhett’s lead single was “What’s Your Country Song”, an enjoyable if generic song celebrating small-town culture and how music entrenches itself in our lifestyles. It made sense as a Nashville single, but then the next two singles came out, and they were shockingly traditional in their production. And once Thomas Rhett released his second radio single, a traditionally produced country song about rediscovering his roots in Nashville and falling back in love with the small-town lifestyle that he grew up with. It was at that moment I realized absolutely none of Thomas Rhett’s singles thus far had tried to go for pop. Turns out “country again” really did mean pulling back the production to make something more grounded and traditional, shadowing the way he reconnected to his roots when going into quarantine.
What I love about Country Again is that it’s not overly pretentious about its rediscovered love of tradition. On the title track, Thomas Rhett still admits that he loves California and the flash of the city, but it just felt good to come back to something more humble and nostalgic. Plus, the production is a huge step up from Rhett’s previous albums. I know it sounds like I have a bias against pop production compared to “real” country production, but the truth is, I always felt Thomas Rhett was far more convincing in this lane than when he tries to be Nashville’s Bruno Mars. Especially when he never had the proper producers to make actual pop music and instead settled for a cheap imitation. All I’m saying is, there’s a reason Thomas Rhett’s one genuine pop crossover was an acoustic ballad that could easily be passed off as an Ed Sheeran-esque pop song. Thomas Rhett’s voice sounds great over the waning pedal steel and warm guitar textures. There are some programmed drums, but they rarely feel like they override the authenticity of the album. Plus, even if the songs aren’t produced like pop songs anymore, that doesn’t mean you can’t find that pop appeal on songs like “Blame It On The Backroad”, a song that slaps way harder than it deserves to.
That said I do think this is only barely better than Life Changes. It’s more consistent and better produced, but you can tell the album runs out of ideas pretty quickly and starts devolving into checklist lyrics a little too often. Eric Church is referenced twice on the album, and in more ways than one, that’s not an accident. Still, there’s enough improvement here that I’m willing to call this his best album. It’s worth hearing, especially the closing song “Ya Heard”, one of the best songs Thomas Rhett has ever made.