-Listen to the album here

-Read the lyrics here

NEW! UNOPENED! INTERESTING!

The title is ironic considering this album seems to contain some of the oldest and most familiar feelings known to mankind, albeit from a brighter and breezier perspective than usual. Compared to Left Behind and the silvery sea, which seemed the limited, controlled domain of a godlike protagonist, NEW! UNOPENED! INTERESTING! is the wider, hazier and more wondrous homeland of a mortal (because of course the world is bigger and more exciting for a mere mortal than for a god).

The presence of the supernatural and profound is not gone, however. We merely view it with more detachment and less focus, through the multicolored lens of earthly loves and struggles.

I do believe that NEW! UNOPENED! INTERESTING! is populated by at least a pair of quiet gods. This impression begins with DOPAMINE.

From the very first time I listened to DOPAMINE, the main image I had in mind was the birth of Aphrodite. (This is probably the best depiction that fits my impression of the song). We are borne into the album on rollicking ocean waves of blue and purple (a fitting transit from the last album), and the singer proceeds, with straightforward joy, to utter a sort of jubilant hymn in the goddess’s praise.

In AZURE the singer shuffles forward self-consciously, with a constant peripheral vision, singing boldly of the web of yearning and self-sabotage that envelops everyone within his view. I say self-sabotage specifically because of the lines “HOW THEY FEEL THIS WAY/

IT’S A FORCE THEY CAN’T EXPLAIN/MAKES THEM CARE SO MUCH ‘BOUT PEOPLE WHO DON’T EVEN KNOW THEIR NAMES”, a line that whether intentionally or not, aptly describes the dangers of parasocialism

The whole song seems propelled by this angst about names, this desire to be known and the unbearable pressure of knowing and wondering if one is known.

THIRD RANK somehow feels to me like the first Important song of the album, the concrete that lays the foundation for its entire ethos. We have cut from the idyllic entrance scene of DOPAMINE and the explosive confusion of AZURE into the everyday, ordinary angst of….. Unrequited love. (At least, I don’t know how else to interpret the lyrics). The song rattles with the heady adrenaline that comes from dealing with love, the quiver in one’s stomach from uncertainty, hope, and resentment unpleasantly mixed together. With the addition of more instrumentals (around 1:20) it settles firmly into the esoteric haunted mind that is signature for Allred.

WILL YOU BE MY MIRROR??!!? seems to be a continuation of the previous song’s angst, dumbed down from a descriptive story into frustrated questions, with the singer longing for the subject to see his love for her in his face as if seeing herself in a mirror.

(The song could be about something else—struggles with self more generally—but the “get you out of my mind” line seems to tie it solidly to the theme of love).

IT WILL MOVE seems to pick up and carry forward the themes of AZURE—self-sabotage, self-confidence, distraction, indulgence— it is an eerie warning of some kind of evil, perhaps judgment, to come. But what is the it that is prophesied? Is it like that one slime mold that infects ants and controls their movements? Some kind of ancient slinking demon, that creeps upon those who ignore their own darkness by glutting themselves with distraction…. But all according to the decree of God? How frightening, when judgment does not fall like a flash from above, but rather possesses one gradually from the inside!

WONDERBUG is an aptly placed interlude, a wordless tumble down crags of emotion.

I hope it is not too harsh to say that despite the pleasant beginning, MIXED FOODS is, overall, an affront to the ears (intentionally, I’m sure). It gives the impression, which was very prevalent in Left Behind as well and indeed all Allred’s music, of someone so, in a sense, objectified, constantly assailed by all sorts of strange forces, and filled with strange tortured visions as a result—

“...The human spirit is shown as modified by its relations with force, as swept away, blinded, by the very force it imagined it could handle, as deformed by the weight of the force it submits to…To define force—it is that x that turns anybody who is subjected to it into a thing. Exercised to the limit, it makes man into a thing in the most literal sense: it makes a corpse out of him. ..

(I invite the reader here to revisit the lyrics of Left Behind and the strangely flesh-oriented (not to mention violent) language throughout).

...How much more varied in its processes…is the other force, the force that does not kill, i.e. that does not kill just yet…From its first property…flows another…the ability to turn a human being into a thing while he is still alive. He is alive; he has a soul; and yet—he is a thing. An extraordinary entity this—a thing that has a soul. And as for the soul, what an extraordinary house it finds itself in! Who can say what it costs it, moment by moment, to accommodate itself to this residence, how much writhing and bending, folding and pleating are required of it?”

—Simone Weil, “The Iliad, or, The Poem of Force,” translated by Mary McCarthy

This writhing, bending, folding, and pleating is, in my opinion, something somehow always subtly woven into the fabric of Allred’s music, especially in songs like this one.

As a final note, MIXED FOODS also feels oddly political, with mentions of Tylenol scares and taking firearms, which gives it the same peripheral view as AZURE.

SCALDINGHOTSUGAR is pleasant enough, trancelike, obviously giving the singer a needed break after the last song as we can tell from his labored breathing.

In the THE SOFT END we meet the second or at least final god, the gentle guardian of the cloud, whom our protagonist has the opportunity to meet face to face and recounts with affection and nostalgia—not the cheap, aestheticized kind, but the homely dignity that hangs about fables and any stories told by old men to children. Even this god, like all the gods of this story, is not completely happy, and like the child in the tale cannot find the words to express himself. It seems though that whatever needed to be shared between the two of them, was, even if it shall remain a secret to us, the audience.

BIRTHER. The protagonist’s love is still lost and he seeks to push her back, make her recede in his mind, covering over the emptiness left with blazing lights and colors. The vocals clamber uncertainly over the rest of the song as he is propelled forward, pushed all too abruptly back into gritty reality—there is only so much time left for mental breakdowns, this is his last song before he must face the world again, his last chance to remember himself, and her, before he is subjected to whole new sets of forces.

~~~

I haven’t found the same sort of storyline that I sought in the last few albums. NEW! UNOPENED! INTERESTING! is less an epic drama and more, as its title suggests, a package of hymns, diatribes, and short stories, a catalogue of tensions— between lover and loved, earth and heaven, self and conscience (somehow— I don’t know where I’m getting all of this but it feels right—). It is punchy and bright and although I probably like it the least out of Allred’s three albums so far, it feels like a step in the right direction. Most of all, it is easy to empathize with, as if every song was a journal entry secretly written in the hope someone might read it. I hope the protagonist of “BIRTHER” knows there are indeed many “rows of sticky people who feel the same way.”

Favorite lyrical moments list 😎:

-”I found that my spirituals were doused in red”

-All the lyrics to AZURE (so sassy)

-”friction shines on your face/blushing bright”

-”neon white cyanide/that crushing new normality/haunts my mind”

-”that world of possibility/springs into summer/glued to the street/bone dry and lean/shining at seventeen”

-”how many equations will it take/to see the common variable?/how many obscenities will it take/to get you out of my mind?”

-”it was cold then/but now it burns inside your spinal cord”

-All of THE SOFT END of course

-All the lyrics to BIRTHER but especially ”horses crying from the gutter”—goshdarnit that image goes hard for some reason

Indie

What is “indie,” anyways? Short for independent—but that’s wonderfully vague. I associate the term with an uncanny blend of self-consciousness with carelessness—music that knows it’s not the mainstream, but knows it’s good. Looking through my own “indie” playlist brings to mind street lamps and Polaroids, combat boots and late night drives, or conversely, bikes and dandelions in fields with woven picnic baskets and strawberry-patterned blankets. Indie music—even as it evokes strong feelings of nostalgia, or longing, or happiness— tends to have a sort of lethargy to it, the desire to curl up in a shady bedroom and feel nothing about everything. It has nothing to say for itself, it just exists, with bitten nails and flannel. It is a romanticization of romanticization.

Christian

(TobyMac, dc Talk, Newsboys, for King & Country, Terrian, Hollyn, Jars of Clay)

I’m skeptical of Christian and/or worship music as an industry, even as a genre, for reasons I’m not sure how to articulate yet. I share the complaint of many that it’s, for the most part, too bland and artificial to befit its subject.

But there’s some music that works all right: music facing the dangerous truth that to make something truly to the glory of God, the art must be embraced as if for its own sake, sending out a voice all its own. It’s not to be wielded gingerly, a bare vehicle for a raw imitation of devotion.

I still hesitate to call even good Christian music that I enjoy—TobyMac is the best example— “worship.” That term should be reserved to refer to chants and hymns, which TobyMac’s music is definitely not. But if music is a means of communing with fellow souls, as I believe, TobyMac is like a friendly extroverted older guy at your church who just wants to tell you all about his love for Jesus and how he’s seen God working in his life. Good Christian music of this kind is, I think, most like a testimony, a sharing of stories. And you can dance along, you can celebrate that person’s joy.

Jazz

What if sometimes order, routine, the established structures could gently dissolve, in a sense, and for a peaceful or maybe impassioned while, music could be ruled by an individual cultivated sensibility, a heart under its white shirt and tux lovingly exploring time? Not that it’s all self-determined— a jazz musician could create his own story or retell an old one, the same standards passed from mouth to saxophone to keys, feeling itself shaped a hundred different ways. I have yet to really dig into this genre, I confess. A musical tradition founded on complexity and improvisation is scary. There are whole worlds built on sensibilities I can’t comprehend. But when a jazz recording or performance falls in perfect order upon my ear, despite being birthed that very moment, then one knows there must be some chord of common reason running through each human soul.

Various Classical

“Classical” music the way we often use the term really refers to music of about four eras, Baroque, Classical, Romantic, and Contemporary… none of which I’ve investigated enough to single out. The variety within “classical music” is overwhelming— and so is the variety within each work. Modern music can feel so shallow and scared compared to classical music. Classical music is audacious and voluptuous. It sets up whole dramas, thousand-detailed, demanding one’s whole attention. Modern songs work outside of time, packing and layering several emotions together until a whole new feeling is formed, packaged into three or four minutes. Classical music (much of it) works within the excruciating grind of real time, clearly distinguishing emotions as it moves from one to the next, forcing them to be keenly felt. This is not always easily bearable.

Dramatic Female Vocalists

(AURORA, Caroline Polachek, Birdy, Grimes, Björk, Imogen Heap)

Women are inherently homemakers. We will make a home for ourselves if we have no one else to make it for. And we will guard and keep it protectively, for women are also inherently people of passion, passion that is everything to us even if it hurts us. What a privilege, then, to be invited into the cosmos another woman has made through music, to let her passion enter my bloodstream and pump through the chambers of my own heart. Caroline Polachek said it well: “desire, I want to turn into you.”

All the better if this music contains fantasy, eccentricity, absurdity. You quickly remember, listening, that ordinary life is the weirdest experience of all. Music that doesn’t catch you off guard with its passion or specificity or newness is the most unrealistic to your average experiences.

Angsty Male Bands

(Twenty One Pilots, half•alive, COIN, U2, Coldplay, BTS, Sunset Rollercoaster, HYUKOH, Supertramp, Steely Dan, Kansas, Genesis)

Certain voices call out to you like you always knew them.

Sometimes it’s because you grew up occasionally hearing them on the radio—Bono’s rasp over sun-dappled guitars or Chris Martin’s voice falling like water over those annoyingly irresistible piano riffs—and always felt enchanted from a distance. Not so much the distance of a peasant glimpsing castle walls and wondering what it’s like to live and move within those halls, but more (so I imagine) like a traveler, a soldier in foreign lands perhaps, seeing a picture of his hometown that he left so long ago.

Sometimes it’s because those voices, and the instrumentals they floated above, helped form your music taste—Dad’s CDs, hoarded on high shelves in the living room: Supertramp’s anthology album Retrospectacle, Steely Dan’s Aja, Kansas’ Leftoverture, Styx’ The Grand Illusion, Jars of Clay self-titled, U2’s The Joshua Tree, Genesis’ Invisible Touch and We Can’t Dance and Abacab— albums filled with cynicism and longing and history and dogged musical exploration and insistent taste.

Sometimes it’s because, being the oddball revolutionary boyband they are (BTS), those voices—watercolor vocals, charcoal raps—spread before you a canvas upon which to paint your own music taste—having spilled upon it light shades in a multitude of styles, they invite you to take your own brush and fill in the details.

Sometimes it’s because—whether it’s Tyler Joseph or Josh Taylor—they took all the deepest desires you had or ever thought to have and translated them into fresh, yearning sound.

And sometimes—in the case of Sunset Rollercoaster and HYUKOH—it’s just because Spotify recommended them both and then you found they had a really good album together and you found you enjoy all their songs even when they’re just playing in the background and when you need something chill, light, or even devastatingly-soul-splittingly-beautiful, they can just be trusted to provide it, no questions asked.

Certain voices—whether those millions or only thousands have heard—are the voices of kinship, even reaching across a void.

K-Pop

(BTS, Mamamoo, TXT, NewJeans, Red Velvet)

Really, what do you do with a product so obviously overpriced and overproduced, a force so obviously trying to persuade you to blindly hand over your soul and consume?? Probably the wisest thing is to run away in the first place, but thirteen-year-old me didn’t know the dangers when she first searched for “BTS” on YouTube, “wondering what all the fuss was about.” Thankfully BTS have actual artistry shining through the idol facade, and thankfully the Kpop machine has not yet ground me up within its jaws into a mindless worshipper. Hopefully it never will. For here’s the thing—having such a regimented and consumer-driven industry raises interesting questions about art—who should get the credit for good art? What should be the standards for good art? Are idols artists? How do idols who want to be artists reconcile this with their idol identity? Is what makes art “good” the technique of the creator, the motivation for making it, the presentation by others, its success in the public? Nestled among the cheesy lyrics, fake visuals, manufactured energy, and hypocritical themes of self-empowerment, could real beauty be found?

Celtic

Ah, Celtic music… for me, it always seems to say, “Ah, yes, there was a story about this once long ago… there was a contour of a hill by the sea, there was a certain field… there was a man who felt a certain way, and thought to confide it to his instrument. There was a woman who knew a tale, and let it wriggle into the air in the form of a song. There may have been fae, selkies, kings, who-knows-what involved, but there was certainly heartbreak, and anger, and death, and young love in the mix of it all. But by now, oh, by now, all the old things have been distilled and transmuted into these simple tunes. Nothing special, these tunes—they’ll only stir up a longing in your heart stronger than any other you’ve had, for something you’re not sure exists.”

I don’t think it would be worth anyone’s time for me to try to summarize these survey answers, respond to them, or draw any definite conclusions from them. I will definitely keep them in mind as I myself continue to think and write about music. But for this post, I just wanted to share some highlights of the survey with you.

For this 9-question survey, I got 26 responses, including my own. I’m including 10 or so of the responses for each question here, so you can see the varieties of ideas and personalities throughout my friends and family. (A few of my own answers might be in there too. ;)). I hope this post stimulates your own thinking about and appreciation of music!

1. How would you define music?

Music is a "heart" language, expressing and moving the heart.

I'm gonna go Greek Philosopher on this one: Ratios in Motion.

Sound humanly organized and agreed upon as "music" by many people.

Poetry, stories, emotions, events, intents, all wrapped up in the format of sound.

The purposefully designed joining of melody and rhythm, and often also harmony, emitted by instruments or the human voice.

Wow, um that is difficult. uh. sound that sounds nice? and has like a pattern thingy to it i guess

...the ineffable language of the dynamics of the transcendent, specifically, the members of the Trinity. An audible tracing on the underside. ??

A medium of communication having the playing of musical instruments.

Melodies with story, evokes an emotional response.

Art which can only be fully experienced through sound. Ie, poetry would not automatically be music, but a recording in which some element of the delivery is part of the [artwork] would enter the realm of music.

2. Off the top of your head, what would you say makes music good?

Good musicians. ;) Music is good when it has been thoughtfully and carefully composed, revealing a measure of depth no matter how simple it might be. If you mean a 'good thing to have in this world,' I would say because it can touch the soul thru the ears.

Music which contains something to gift to the listener or to be discovered by the listener.

Music that evokes emotion or you constantly think about it.

harmonies, cohesion, variety.

That, like beautiful visual art, the purposeful creation of it shows the creativity of God in whose image the composer or non-composing musician was made. It also provides considerable pleasure and intellectual stimulation, which is good until the listener idolizes music for those things.

Truth (mainly for lyrical pieces), Beauty (placement & relationship of respective notes, sounds, etc.) , and Goodness (perhaps the emotions of the song/the song is supposed to evoke)

good interesting pretty lyrics, and intricate details and cool sounding things within the instrumental part of it.

Effectively conveying an emotion, attitude, or atmosphere - moving the listener to think or feel differently. The best music does so through harmony, creativity, and narrative.

If it's a sea shanty or similar to a sea shanty or sung by an Irish, Scottish, or British singer.

Good use of the "rules" of music as well as real emotion by the performers

Uniqueness from other music as well as a more put together sound.

It must STICK in musicians' minds and hearts -- in their "internal sound system", or, their "mind's ear". It should have the power to win, to convert, to own and be owned.

3. Is the “goodness” of music objective (according to a universal standard), subjective (according to personal taste), a combination, or something else (i.e. does it depend upon culture or era?)

A combination of those factors.

All of the above. While I believe God had some very specific reasons for gifting us with music to create and enjoy, I find the complexities of our worldly reality too vast to come up with a definitive, objective opinion on a singular goodness.

I think that music is both objective (one feels pressured to like a song or people keep saying a song is good, to the point where the person agrees that it is a good song) and subjective.

Subjective.

It's objective in that it is contained in the music itself, but subjective in the sense that people will have varying experiences, and that one piece of music cannot be compared to another reliably. A good parallel is humans- they can have objective merits, but not neccesarily to the point of being able to call one human "objectively better" than another.

Some aspects of music must be held to a universal standard determine its goodness, because true goodness is objective. For example, if the verses of an otherwise good song express values contrary to Biblical truth, it cannot be good unless the lyrics are either altered or removed. Musical performance is more difficult to evaluate objectively because it is hard to determine if the musician is playing to the best of his ability. Music can often be judged objectively by its adherence to notation and note scale used. Some exception to this must (in my subjective opinion) be made for musical expression such as tempo fluctuations, instrumentation and tonality. Of course, much of music should be viewed subjectively. The slightest difference in technique can thoroughly alter the emotional effect on the listener. Musical taste is also naturally subjective. Whether the goodness of music is evaluated objectively or subjectively is dependent on the type of goodness in question. Ooof, that was a lot of words.

The ''goodness'' according to a universal standard is much different than according to a personal standard. For example: Taylor Swift, by a universal standard is good because her music is easy to love; ''goodness'' according to a personal standard is just whatever really sinks it's teeth into your gut I suppose. And depending on a cultural standard is something entirely different and incomparable.

Objective, in the end. I judge it by its spiritual fruit. What effect does it have on the listener? Does it make her more awake? to what? Does it desensitise? Or does is sensitize (if that is a word). Does it overtake a person? How? Where does it take her? What kind of power does it have over her? What do she hide of herself inside it?

It's as objective as a book or story, or again, poems. There can doubtless be many good books, stories, and poems, but how the reader interprets them, how they make the reader feel, and whether the reader enjoys them is all subjective. Similar, no - the same thing with music. Music can be objectively good while being displeasing to some or perhaps many.

4. How important is emotional impact to the quality of music? (Could it be considered the most important thing about music?)

If the purpose is to express the heart (spirit/emotion), and possibly share the experience with others (in creation, performance and audition), then the quality of music is directly linked to its effectiveness in the task of conveying and eliciting emotion. And it can be evaluated based on it and may be considered the most important thing about it. This is why music is an "art" form.

Emotional impact is probably the main reason people play and listen to music. That alone makes it a very important attribute of music. The fact that music is used as worship not only by humans but also by angels almost certainly makes this the most important quality of music, since worship requires the emotions.

Very important! I think that without emotion one cannot connect with the artist or understand the whole reason the song was made. We need emotion in songs because emotion is part of what it means to be human. And without emotion in music, it’s just bland.

I think it could be considered the most important thing... I suppose yes, because whether for better or worse the impact is what really reflects in the liking. I do, however, think it is not entirely a necessity all the time.

Music without emotion is like an ocean without water.

It is the most important aspect of music

not very

Depends on what the music is trying to convey. For example isolation and coldness could be viewed as a lack of emotion, but being able to convey those things articulately is a very powerful artistic ability.

I think it is very important, and yes, probably the most important. Similar to visual art, the emotions that are invoked, no matter how subtle or strong, will be present in the listener in addition to the 'obvious' impact thru any words that might be included.

I believe it really elevates music, however music without it can still be just as good with good sound, good lyrics, or good imagery and such.

5. What is your favorite type(s) of music, and why (if you can answer why)

My go-to music is purely based off of my mood, but generally my most listened to genres are hip-hop, rnb, rock and pop. I don't believe I have a true favorite genre of music, I just listen to whatever music emits the emotion or vibe I want to feel.

Alternative, indie, underground. Which are the genres that don't actually say anything about the music itself lol, just that it's personal rather than corporate, so to speak.

Piano contemporary, swing, 60’s-70’s songs with story, and of course sprinkling in some rock and roll now and then. Worship to lift the heart and spirit.

Uplifting music, genre isn't super important but I care a lot about the lyrics being good (especially deep and with symbolism. This is why U2 and TØP are my favorites)

Most music published before 1900, much music published during 1900-1940, and relatively little that was created primarily for commercial or political reasons. Much music composed after 1950 seems to have quite different objectives and character from earlier music. For example, could (or would) Mozart have composed 12-tone music? Were Stockhausen's intentions worlds apart from Bach's? Also, I prefer music that does not depend on just one particular performer or group, as seems to be characteristic of much pop.

Pop, punk, rock, mostly because it has a unique sound, but also because it is unapologetically what it is.

Solo piano music. It's at my finger tips. Speaks my language.

I have highest kind of regard for Classical music-- or the kind of music that is written because it has to be written for its own sake. It is written because the composer is given the gift of it, and responds to the call. This is opposed-- in my mind-- to writing for commercial gain, or to feed the record industry (most pop music) I recognize that composers rely on patronage-- but that is *so that* they can write music for its own sake. But folk music also exists similarly for its own sake ?

What has come to be known as progressive rock, which we referred to as classical rock while is was being produced. Not 'classic', but classical because it drew strongly from classical music, along with R&B and everything else. For me, it's all about the sounds being generated that bring my ears pleasure, almost never about the actual lyrics. The complexity and variance of the sounds as the song shifts thru its movements.

sea shanties or folk music

Baroque, especially Vivaldi. I think the reason why I like Vivaldi is because of the kaleidoscopic counterpoint, emotional quality and driving continuo line. The authentic baroque sound has little vibrato, a clear sound because it’s often chamber music, and a diffused, raw tone from gut strings. Tonality and looser tempi in baroque music gives it more opportunities for musical expression.

ethereal indie, it makes my brain happy with the harmonies (ie the album depression cherry by beach house)

6. What is the best work of music you know (by whatever standard you choose)

I don't think I have one. I think pieces with key changes are spectacular. But no definitive work.

Bach, Matthäus Passion BWV 244 (by most of my musical standards)

This is, of course, ever changing, but right now I think it's "Vienna(in Memoriam)'' by "The Army, The Navy". It just reminds me of my bestest friend (eek!<33333) and it's also sad and relatable and I ADORE the colors ugh yes.

This varies with time. When I was a kid, it was Beethoven's Fifth, but in college, it was Shostakovich's Fifth. On Monday it might be Bernstein's Overture to Candide, and on Tuesday it might be a simple folk melody or hymn tune, or a Bach chorale.

Rachmaninov's second piano concerto

Difficult, but probably A Sort of Homecoming by U2

Either Kid A or In the Aeroplane over the Sea. They're each good for such reasons that comparison between the two is pretty meaningless so I'll just list both.

It’s SO hard to answer this because of the abundance of good music, but I think I’d have to say Eleanor Rigby by Cody Fry.

KANSAS, cuz it's the best ever.

A couple of Bach pieces!

Money by Pink Floyd

Prelude by Nobuo Uematsu for the Final Fantasy series is an extremely simple, but very elegant piece.

that is a very difficult question that i cannot answer bc my favorite song changes very often

7. What makes a good musician?

A musician who can bring the best out of a certain genre, but at the same time have the creative passion to venture into other genres. A musician who is not only excellent in the music he is comfortable making, but also adventurous and not repetitive.

Ability, sensitivity, diligence and love for the music

Their accent (preferably Irish, Scottish or British)

Orin O'brien (a famous bassist) says that ''If there is something in life you enjoy more than playing the bass, then do it'' which sounds a bit harsh of course, but it's a good representation of the dedication and interest you must have. That is, beyond anything else, what's really important.

A care for the diligence of practicing, a lack of impatience, chronological snobbery, and self-centeredness, and an apparent (to themselves) mental connection to music originating from at least a handful of different, unrelated minds, meaning, multiple composers or multiple genres.

One that can make pleasing melodies, heartfelt lyrics and emotions through their songs, and have expertise in the composition of a song.

A musician needs to play a purposeful interpretation of whatever he is playing. Otherwise, he is a technician only. It is preferable that he follow the composer’s wishes in how the piece should be played so that the intent of the music is not lost. A good musician not only excels at the technical aspect of playing, but can feel and convey the emotional qualities in music as well.

Someone who is comfortable with their music and isn't trying to make music to meet anyone else's standards but their own.

Commitment, discipline, someone whose parents made her practice. A good sense of pitch, of rhythm, of phrasing. Emotional depth. Then the ability to transfer what is in the heart through the body.

The ability to invoke and in a way "play" the listener's emotions and feelings.

8. What makes a musical genius?

Having an extraordinary command of the music medium to express the heart.

One definition: membership in the set of composers, performers, and conductors who are already widely recognized as musical geniuses. Also, those who, to a great extent, share the characteristics of the greats.

The transmutation of one's own self into music - dissolution of the musician's physicality and the precipitation of the musician's own emotions into the ears of the listeners.

This usually refers to compositional genius, since it's hard to call a musician a genius unless they display that genius through writing their own music. Geniuses become so by having and displaying unusually creative solutions to difficult problems. This is achieved by having near-total mastery over a subject. (In effect, understanding the subject to such a level as to be able to bend it to your will.)

if the sounds they make, make dopamine release in my brain.

Someone who is highly innovative in the composition of music.

Anyone to whom understanding or participation of music is natural, quickly grasped, and typically one who wields this intelligence to make good music

Being able to play with your instrument and sound wonderful doing do. I saw this one violinist recently who I was just absolutely enthralled by, because she and her violin seemed to just be the best of friends... she sung and the violin did too and it was just so magical.

Someone who is given much, much more than the others.... The parts of their mind and body move together in a more fluid, automatic way. There is an uncanny kind of coordination. Every thing moves together and so the whole thing goes faster, higher, like a rocket!

Someone who is able to (normally without much effort) make musical masterpieces/impressive music

a person who relates to themselves and people in the world around them, putting true soul and their entire being into their music

9. For fun: what's your favorite piece of music you recently discovered? :)

For this question I thought it easier to provide a playlist, with almost everyone’s answers.

Thanks for reading, everyone! My summer is pretty hectic but I hope to get out some consistent weekend posts this summer. A lot of big changes are coming for me and I’m excited to see how that will affect my writing and creativity. God bless and enjoy the last few days of June! <3

Why is this significant? Well, I’ve been a listener of (some) K-pop for a while now, but I’ve always had mixed feelings about Blackpink, the most well-known K-pop girl group who debuted into stardom in 2016. The group has four members—Jennie, Lisa, Rosé, and Jisoo—and a perhaps controversial reputation.

It’d be hard to say everything there is to say about Blackpink, and I’m really not an expert. But to me, they’ve always seemed like the lonely, tragic, perhaps misunderstood queens of K-pop, reluctantly ruling a cold world of flashy, but sparse and repetitive songs. Blackpink’s main persona revolves around self, around being the stars with unflappable attitude, inexorable appeal, who make their own rules and don’t care what anyone thinks. Nearly all their (few) title tracks embody this attitude. It’s a highly appealing attitude to our culture, which explains their popularity. But total self-reliance and constant self-glorification are, to me, sad, shallow doctrines that I think should be neither respected nor cultivated. Which explains while I’ve always had a distaste for Blackpink. On top of that, the music itself has its highly appealing moments, but is for the most part, simplistic and disappointingly homogenous for such a popular group. They’re notorious for their slim discography and songs that all follow nearly identical structures. There’s just… not much substance there, not much to prove their high-winded claims about themselves.

But that is the nature of the idol industry. None of this, as far as I know, is the fault of the members themselves, but of the producers and writers and company executives who control their image and concept. But as of December 2023, the Blackpink members cut ties with their company, YG Entertainment, in regards to their solo endeavours, which means each member now has the chance to grow as an artist in her own, independent way.

Jennie has long been considered the face of the group, the most famous and controversial member, and her persona has arguably been the epitome of this unflappable, powerful, cannot-be-contained ethos that Blackpink puts across. And even though I’ve never considered myself a Blackpink fan, she’s the member that has always had the most fascination for me. Something about her is irresistible—her face is doll-like, compact with a round mouth and perfect features, and her expressions when performing often seem forced, a shield, savage and stereotyped—but her adorable smile clashes with her performative expressions, fizzling her aura down into something mysterious and bittersweet.

So, I ended up listening to the album, Ruby, and it impressed me. It feels interesting and well-rounded, and it left me with a curious kind of compassion. But how could it do so? Especially an album with elements I tend to avoid— swearing, some blatant sensuality, and the usual blown-up Blackpink persona.

First it’s worth explaining some things about Jennie. As Mera’s video “Jennie: The ‘Villain’ of Kpop” explains, Jennie has undergone many controversies as an idol, many of which garnered criticisms that she was her company’s favored “princess” who was “lazy” and thought she could “get away with anything.” We can’t know Jennie’s heart, but it’s likely that many of these criticisms, or at least their extent, were unjustified, and having that in mind increases one’s sympathy for her. Jennie is a global star, both a literal idol for many people and a villain to look down on for others. This makes it all the more interesting to see what, as a solo artist, she’s going to say.

It’s also worth pointing out that in the K-pop industry, everything is a product, including the idols themselves. K-pop idols aren’t necessarily shown as their authentic selves, but are made to seem as perfect as possible to give their listeners something to admire and obsess over.

So let’s jump into the album. The songs in Ruby fall into two general categories: songs about Jennie herself and her self-proclaimed identity, and songs about her relationships with others, both romantic and otherwise. I’ll consider the songs in the Jennie category first and then in the love category.

First things first we get a rather uncategorizable track: “Intro: JANE with FKJ.” A tender track charming us into a receptive mood, to be ready for what comes next, and preparing us for musical flirtatiousness as well as the lyrical weight we expected.

The Jennie songs

The album gets going with “like JENNIE.” This song is everything I would have expected from a Blackpink member. Jennie celebrates her own celebrity status and proudly proclaims her own individuality. “Who else got ‘em obsessed like JENNIE?/Haters, they don’t really like JENNIE/’Cause they could never, ever be JENNIE.”

To me this song seems to rely on the characteristic qualities of a Kpop idol to make the case for her high status: “Who wanna rock with JENNIE/Keep your hair done, nails done like JENNIE.” The most noticeable things about idols and movie stars is their perfect appearance. And yet… it’s not just natural beauty that makes them shine, but good styling and strict hygiene. Having hair and nails done probably isn’t an integral quality to who Jennie really is, yet she cites it as a quality to be recognized for. And so this song seems to be glorifying the idol version of Jennie more than her real self.

The contrast between Jennie’s idol self and real self was brought to my attention by the review of Ruby by YouTuber choujimi. He says,

Jennie acknowledges the idol part of her artistic identity, carries a reverence for it still, despite how much being an idol tends to sting her… these are songs with meanings that belong to her only but are also constructed in hopes of allowing other people to relate to the feelings and ideas expressed, to begin to understand that there is someone who exists behind the idol who is Jennie. But the stage-like imagery of the album seems to infer that the idol version of Jennie is still very much at play, but has been repurposed to allow Jennie the person to express herself with no inhibitions.”

Throughout his review he contrasts the idol Jennie versus the real Jennie as they appear throughout the album. The album is definitely a sort of self-manifesto, a declaration of identity: the name “Ruby” comes up from a nickname, Jennie Ruby Jane, that Jennie came up with for herself in an effort to make her own identity. I think that in this song, Jennie is showing that she is not completely forsaking her idol image, the image of pride and power, but still proudly applies it to herself.

“Like JENNIE” celebrated and encouraged people’s idolization of Jennie—in“with the IE (way up)” she addresses the negative attention idols get. It’s a song about ignoring what people say about you, the frustration of being targeted by haters, the contrasting critiques sent her way, and the futility of spending one’s time on hating a celebrity. This song is less musically interesting than the others—it’s all attitude and casual disgust.

“ExtraL (feat. Doechii)” picks itself up and shakes off the criticisms from “with the IE (way up),” focusing again on a confidence based off possessions, accomplishments, and one’s own determination. It’s essentially a feminist anthem, encouraging women to make their own rules and run the show. I don’t particularly empathize with this song, but it has some moments I admire artistically, such as the refrain: “do my ladies run this, ladies run this?”, Doechii’s wordplay and rhyme, and most of all the chorus: “Riding round’ foreign cars/Top down, staring at the stars,” which keeps getting stuck in my head. At this point, the pace of the song slows and gels together, reinforcing that Jennie and Doechii’s version of feminism isn’t just about hustle but also about enjoying the leisure that’s a result of it.

This song is still focusing on Jennie, on the privilege and pride of her idol status, but it also extends it to others, namely other working women who don’t let men stand in their way.

“Mantra” continues the women empowerment theme more vividly, painting a picture of the ideal, untouchable party girl:

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This that pretty girl mantra, 
This that flaunt ya,
Just touched down in LA,
Pretty girls don't do drama, 'less we wanna
It'll be depending on the day

This song feels more lighthearted but still musically complex. A particular element of this album’s music that I love is Jennie’s use of lush harmonies in the background, which shine here. The catchy trumpety synths, wiggly bass, dancey beat, and harmonies, and occasional lacing of wistfulness, make an outwardly simple and almost silly song feel profound. It’s an unrealistic song, but still has a full-fledged personality of its own, as if Jennie is saying that the impossible idol image generated by the industry is a reality in her case. That she embodies the ideal.

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This that pretty girl mantra, she's that stunna,
Everyone know that she is me.

Could this be true? Are the real self and the idol self one, in Jennie? Or am I just making stuff up out of melodies? Let’s see what happens in “ZEN.” She’s said in an interview that this is the song that helped her realize what she was really doing with the album. This song focuses in on her sense of self and her conviction that no one can change her essential self, that she has herself to depend on.

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Nobody gon' move my soul, gon' move my aura, my matter
Nobody gon' move my light, gon' touch my glow, my matter
Nobody gon', all this power make 'em scatter

As choujimi points out in his video, Jennie reinforces this inner stability in the midst of an instrumental that crackles, sways back and forth dangerously, churns up the ground, zooms in and out, embodying the forces that Jennie is up against. It’s a song for a fantasy war hero, drawing on strong images—fire, chains, bloom, rain. In this song Jennie finally acknowledges her sense of self as coming from beyond her affluent, privileged idol status,— “Money can’t buy sixth sense,” “Money cannot buy no real friends.” She came by those things just by being herself. But she also acknowledges that her struggles have helped made her who she is: “Thick skin layered like chains on chains on chains/Wear the pressure on my neck and rings/Rain, midnight bloom/In the dark, I grew.”

Finally, at the end of this song, an interesting phrase resounds: “Can’t be two of one.” I think this Jennie stating clearly that she doesn’t have separate identities within herself, only one. That her powerful idol self is her real self.

Jennie continues taking time to focus on her own self. “Damn Right (feat. Childish Gambino & Kali Uchis)” is about celebrating one’s accomplishments specifically, while “F.T.S.” is one of those “follow your heart and be free of anything holding you back” songs, pulled off with a softness and sensitivity that adds delicious musical variety to the album. And “Filter” is yet another comment on self-image, where Jennie proclaims “I love me more with no filter.” She really, really wants us to know: her idol beauty is real. Her real self and her idol self are one.

We wrap up the Jennie songs with “Starlight.” “Starlight” is in the top two most vulnerable songs on the album (the other one is yet to come). It comes the closest to cracking my theory of Jennie’s unification with her idol self, for in this song, soft but insistent, she confesses the difference between her true self and what others see in her.

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You said you see the starlight in me
What about the black mystery?
What about the moments you don't see?
It's way deeper than what you think
...
I was just a white, white, white lie, lie.

I see “Starlight” as a thread of doubt, a lifeline to another, more probable reality that might be, where the real Jennie and the perceived Jennie are not in fact one. It’s an open space where she can face her true self, the conflicts within herself, the contrast between starlight and the dark of the night sky. This might be my favorite song on the album.

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I just wanna make my mama prouder
When the stupid thoughts started getting louder
Said, "B*tch, chill out," and took a cold shower
Like we gon' levitate
Gon' levitate to the 808
I gravitate to the real, not fake

Thus I believe Ruby is primarily about Jennie’s ownership of her idol image and insistence that the perfection attributed to idols is something she possesses in reality. You can almost see it in the album cover—A larger-than-life Jennie looks down upon a smaller one, but both are identical, merely different iterations of the same person. But Jennie also takes the opportunity to expand on this image of herself by exploring her relationships with others.

The love songs

We see this first in the third song on the album, “start a war.” It’s a song that doesn’t draw too much attention to itself— it starts and ends quickly, and has the same biting tone as Jennie’s usual persona expects—but it’s one of the tracks that hits hardest for me, and I love that Jennie put it so early in the album. Because this song is about sticking with a loved one, even in hard times, about a revered relationship that matters deeply to the singer.

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I'm not sayin' we don't have problems
Know that we could both be on one
But if somebody try to start some
I'm gon' try for you
I'll fight for you, go off for you
I'll start a war
...
'Cause love, it hold responsibility
Hold you down, you hold me down

Jennie is still an idol, still fierce and powerful, but now we know that she applies this same fierceness to her relationships with others. She is not defined only by herself.

The next song is “Handlebars (ft. Dua Lipa).” Here we see that Jennie isn’t only here to talk about love within friendship, but also the experience of falling in love—and the way she describes it in this album is as overwhelming, intoxicating as alcohol, adding another layer to her image as Jennie; she’s not perfectly unbreakable, not in matters of love.

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I don't ever think twice
And baby, that's why
I trip and fall in love just like a Tuesday drunk
I always go all in, all in, all in
Over the handlebars, hittin' the ground so hard

Jennie’s unstoppableness might make her impressive to the world, but it also makes her foolish in love.

This is another song I love. Jennie and Dua Lipa’s voices mingle just right, and the song’s steady pace lets the melodies arch perfectly over the dark piano and bass. The song feels heavy, like falling, but sweet, like love.

In “Love Hangover (feat. Dominic Fike),” sandwiched between “Mantra” and “ZEN,” we get a break from the self-empowerment but a continuation of the lightheartedness and humor sprouted up in “Mantra.” Her love relationship from “Handlebars”, has gone somewhat sour, but she still can’t help returning to her lover over and over despite the bad effects.

I’ve listened to this song… perhaps far too many times. It’s so gently, subversively catchy—and the HARMONIES—

The relationship arc gets its last word, for now, in “Seoul City,” though really, this song is not so much a statement but a mood. The lyrics give brief insights into her relationship, in which her lover now seems to have complete power over her: “He says my attitude out of control/Tell me what to do, Mr. General,” but the story is heard as if through a haze. The chorus of the song centers on and mirrors Seoul: “In Seoul City/I see your soul.” The instrumental has an eerie, distinctive voice, as if the city itself is trying to reach into Jennie’s relationship and tell her that there’s something wrong, while simultaneously clouding her judgment in her devolving relationship with its own cloudy charm. The music video for this song is definitely worth checking out. It shows the mood I mean.

So, last but not least… how does this album end? Not with a flashy song reinforcing her self-image, but with “twin,” a hammock under the night sky knit of guitar chords and harmonies, crowded with specific images, recollections, longings—a folk song for a friend. All of Jennie’s focus is on this friend: the old times, their divide, her love for that friend that continues still, their helpless hope to “make make things right when they get older.”

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We was fighting and colliding, man, I just couldn't stay
And I keep your name so, so, so tightly to my heartbeat
Guess I lost you, and you lost me, but I put fuel to your flame
I didn't leave ya, I still see ya,
When I'm bumping Ashanti, yeah, on a beach, yeah

“Twin” closing the album feels like a bridge going forward. It’s a promise that Jennie isn’t just here to write about herself. Jennie’s world may be a perfect idol world, but she’s let others into it, friends and lovers who might break her heart, but whom she’ll cling to relentlessly anyways. She may have found her inner peace, her “Zen,” but as long as there are others in her life, her story isn’t over.

So why do I care?

Why do I care about Ruby? Even after all this writing, I’m not sure, but I guess there’s something magical about seeing an individual slip out of her former restraints—in this case, her life and work within Blackpink—and form her own artistic regime, while still building on and drawing from her pre-existing image. There’s something very human about that. Moving on and staying the same at the same time. And it gives me hope that as she continues her solo career, she’ll be able to gracefully maintain her current image or change it, depending on what direction she wants to take.

And I definitely love seeing Jennie’s artistry let loose. Throughout the first part of “twin” Jennie repeats the line, “Feels like I’m writing a letter, but I’m writing a song,” over and over, as if reflecting on the strange act of creation. You can see in this album how Jennie steps into the role of artist with so much passion. I mentioned earlier how “F.T.S.” is one of those “follow your heart and be free” songs, which, again, is not a sentiment I usually respect. But in light of Jennie’s new artistic freedom, I appreciate it, for I imagine that the solo work Jennie provides to the world will be of more value than the work she did for YG Entertainment, in virtue of its authenticity. “Following one’s heart” is not right in all things, but I think art often proves an exception.

And in this album, in sharp contrast to Blackpink’s songs, you can see nuanced emotions, storytelling, and passion for the art of music shining through—in the fact that it’s not just lyrically heavy, but musically well-rounded and interesting, with varying paces, influences, flavors, vocal styles, each song a detailed and complex world of its own. This is especially evident in songs like “Intro: Jane” and “Seoul City,” where the mood of the music attracts even more interest than the lyrics. In reconciling her real self and her idol self, Jennie is also embracing herself as an artist, as someone who simply loves music.

A while ago I posted about their debut album Now, Not Yet by half•alive, and now their third full-length album Persona has been out for some time. So I thought I might as well talk about it.

Persona is 32 minutes long, with 10 full songs. Three singles were released before the album: “Sophie’s House,” “Automatic,” and “Songs.” The lead single accompanying the album appears to be “All My Love (Imperative).” The album was teased with the appearance of two mysterious human-sized puppets, Sonny and Cher, who feature on the album cover and in the “Automatic” music video. I’m not sure what the deal is with Sonny and Cher and to be honest, I haven’t really tried to find out. For this review, I’ll just talk about how the album stands with me in this moment.

Half•alive’s songs have been heading the same direction since Now, Not Yet—less spare, less cerebral, and less fresh. The sound of Conditions of a Punk, interim single “Subliminal” and everything on this album is fuller, a little more “mainstream” to my mind, and less introspective. The music now flows into a world beyond the singer’s own mind; these are songs to dance to, to wave your hands in the air to, songs about the prayerful deliberation or the delightful spontaneity of connecting with other people and songs about the teeth-clenchingly painful adrenaline of existing as a social creature (listen to “Nobody” to see what I mean). Half•alive’s debut EP 3 was close, dark, and uncertain, but there’s been an opening up since then. Half•alive’s whole discography is a character arc.

“Sophie’s House” is an example of that. I wasn’t immediately hooked on it. The sparkliness and the shouty chorus definitely feel like half•alive, but a new version that’s less interested in artistic experimentation and more in emotional expression. But both modes of creating are valid and good.

What’s more, this song’s nostalgic reflections on past times and impatient yearnings for the future (or at least, discontent with the present) well encapsulate my current situation, having just graduated high school. Though it’s still a little too idealized to be believable— “Resting your head on my shoulder/Ten of pile in the van/Driving the road to nowhere/Time and time again.”

But it’s a strong, fresh continuation of half•alive’s aesthetic, especially as it so clearly builds on “Summerland”—both mention dancing, long drives, lots of friends, but “Summerland” is hazy and wistful, a fantasy of the future, while “Sophie’s House” is a bright but also more sober reflection on the past.

This album definitely feels like half•alive’s most energetic album so far, with more songs to bang your head and scream to. The next track “Automatic” is a good example of this. I don’t really understand what this song is about, but I can’t get enough of it. It’s a song to turn to full volume and jump around your room to when you’re feeling anyway at all and need to get it out of your veins somehow. Watery synths and prechorus rhythms reel you in carefully to the simple but startling chorus. Waves of guitar drip over heavy, dry drums. The noisy guitar solo ends the song in a pleasant craze. Yet it still has that half•alive poise and restraint, especially with the cryptic lyrics.

“People” feels like a solid combination of moods from both Now, Not Yet and Conditions of a Punk—it’s more mainstream-sounding, like Conditions of a Punk, but has some delicious jazzy, crunchy synth moments in the second verse and bridge. Half•alive seem to be continually honing their skill of adding unexpected light and dimension to every song.

All the same, I both love and hate this song, because it perfectly captures the mood of the scenario described in the lyrics: that of watching strangers out of your car window, wondering what their lives are like, reflecting on the strange fact that they are humans just like you and yet your paths will likely never cross, hearts never meet. I love it because it captures this feeling, and therefore does its job well. I hate it because I sort of hate that feeling. I can perfectly imagine the smell of gas and the rough cloth of the car seat and the sun blaring through the window—and these can only remind me of the tiredness from a long day on the highway. Not to mention that watching all the different people drive past makes your heart restless after a while. Empathy is lovely, but also exhausting.

“Bleed It Out” says everything pretty straightforwardly in its lyrics: “Bleed it out/Give me all you got/Even if it hurts/Don’t hold it back… Spill your authenticity, I’m listening, believe it.” If you are an introverted, empathetic, creative soul yourself, you can nearly always trust artists like half•alive to have the same deep desire for authenticity you do, and this band has no qualms in expressing it.

“Long Drive,” which, not unexpectedly, is an ode to the calming powers of long drives, feels to me like a tiresome bundle of some of half•alive’s most stubborn tendencies, some themselves tiresome: the idealization of driving, reflections on the necessity of clearing one’s head (which was more compellingly covered in “Back Around”), female features who sound nice enough but leave you feeling that some potential was wasted in that collaboration. But the unraveling saxophone at the end is nice. It’s not a bad song.

“Lie, Lie” presses again on half•alive’s recurrent themes of denial and internal: “You lie, you lie, you lie/You’re losing all control/You try to hide the signs/That something’s wrong.” It does so in a more straightforward and to me less musically interesting fashion than they have in years past in songs like “What’s Wrong” or “TrusT,” but again, new straightforwardness seems to be the thrust of their music as it progresses, and though I don’t choose to turn on this song often, it would be pleasant enough for, say, a drive. I imagine it would be satisfying, too, for the writer to express this overarching theme in a succinct, obvious fashion for once.

When listening to the album “Lie, Lie” spills into “All My Love (Imperative)” rather suddenly, which is fitting for a song that seems to be about spilling easily and joyfully into God. “All My Love” is bright and sweet and easy to dance to and all it really needs to be.

“The Point” is the kind of unabashed song I have a weakness for. There’s often a most catchy song on a certain album that I’ll end up replaying over and over again even if it’s not the one with the most depth - this is that one, for me. But really what’s not to love? The aggressive beginning, the bouncy chorus, and the gentle second verse sliding back into the bouncy chorus, and the predictable but just as delightful bridge—this is a song that knows itself, an organism of its own. And the lyrics are tasty, in sound, rhythm and meaning…

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Forever's feeling out of balance
Like fighting never-ending patterns you can't win
...
Earning money just to have it
Keeping busy is a habit I can't kick
...
Go on forever-ever trying to be
Something way better, better than just being
What's the point?

“Songs,” (unlike some of the other songs on this album), is sentimental without bordering on annoying. Josh Taylor and Jordana’s voices are already pleasant together, but it’s the instrumentals that really lift this song above the flat realm of just-another-song-on-an-album into a little world of its own: swishy drums, charming piano, and the husky sax that dominates the song with its own presence like a favorite teacher walking into a room.

“Thank You” feels like a soft folk lullaby. I often skip it, but it instantly calms me down. It brings the album to a pleasant resting spot that primes one’s curiosity for what comes next.

And I can’t help be curious for what comes next, because as I’ve intimated throughout, Persona feels like a distillation and summary of their previous themes, put into the most obvious and accessible terms: nostalgia, struggle with people, struggle with oneself, seeking God, questioning one’s lifestyle. Now, Not Yet introduced these themes enigmatically and abstractly, with heavy poetry and complex instrumentals. Give Me Your Shoulders, Pt. 1 felt like a selection of very tightly curated songs, each a potent mood, a variant of love. Conditions of a Punk made these songs the root of an explosion of emotion, with new songs stretched thin in all directions over a range of emotions and relationships. And Persona is, as I said, a summary, all the themes that came before dressed in a more straightforward musical and lyrical style. So really, there’s no saying what might come next. Maybe they’ll lean heavily into this new sound, but with new themes. Maybe they’ll keep the same themes, and shift their sound once again. Maybe it won’t be something quite definable.

Half•alive faces soul-struggles directly and do not fear to show the struggle, and this is what makes them an artist to love and be loved by for as long as they continue to explore and create. Even though I do not enjoy this album as wholly and enthusiastically as I do some of their others, I can see their creativity working, developing, and that is worth just as much.

With that being said, I hope you enjoy this review, and check out the album— though I would warn you that you should only listen to it if you are ready for something unconventional that will probably make you uncomfortable, in its music, mood, lyrical style, and content. But if you have a taste for the weird and the anguished and the eccentric, it’s worth checking out. Anyways, here’s the album itself for your enjoyment, and the lyric transcription for reference so you can better understand my review.

the silvery sea

In my review of Left Behind I developed a theory of the “main character” within the album: a character struggling with a darker version of himself who had influence over his mind. In the last song, “Everyday,” I believed that this character was presented as a sort of supernatural hero, travelling through a world of great immensity, who at last conquered this darker self, and stripping away the “smiling face” of hypocrisy caused by their union, and therefore, presumably, discovering freedom from that time on, “leaving behind” that former self. But it is not to be assumed that healing from these events - the time lived under the dark self’s sway, as well as the painful separation - could happen easily or without pain of its own - especially considering that, now that the darker self is out of the way, other selves - separate selves - must be faced. And that is what, operating under this purely speculative theory I’ve cooked up, this album is about. For even as the rain has washed away the blood of the evil self in “Everyday,” there are still greater waters to contend with… (and even rain eventually evaporates, rises, falls and washes back into the sea… so the darkness won’t yet be gone forever).

In “the silvery sea” the main character is the same, and he is just as much a hero as ever. In fact I would say he’s a king. But he is a lonely king, who in this whole vast world we have seen has only the sea for his domain, and his struggles are between himself, his loved ones, and God.

Why would I say he’s a king? Maybe there isn’t much to support it, besides the tone of a couple of the tracks, namely “start over” and “blood so bright.” But just like last time, the singer, the Voice, the character so charges the album with his presence that every sound, every layer of the music is so plainly either his own feelings exuding from his own self - out of his body and into the silvery sea - or it is some kind of force coming up against him, that he is directly concerned with. The whole album feels like a great amount of pressure all driving against a single point, which is him. And he seems quite alone. And so it is only natural to imagine this character as someone notable, someone easy to romanticize, upon whom there is a great deal of pressure, someone who due to their unordinary life must often feel lonely - such as a king. Besides, most myths and fantasy tales are more concerned with the dealings of royalty than with the lives of mere commonfolk, and this album feels inescapably fantastical.

TRACK-SPECIFIC THOUGHTS:

1. ripples

I had rather expected, from the title, to get a feeling of immersion, and that is what we get here right from the start. The piano at the beginning sounds so lonely and whimsical, reinforcing my imaginations of a fantasy king, and then after a perfectly timed buildup we meet the king himself and his own tortured, or perhaps just tired, description of his situation.

The lyrics are difficult to put a definite interpretation on, but they do a good job of harkening to several future songs - joining hands, sheets, flesh.

2. start over

The beat in “start over” sounds bracing, marchlike, fitting for a sort of royal procession. You can imagine the venerable king coming smilingly down the street and the sunshine sparkling on the waves not far away. There’s both hope and pleading very strongly distilled in this song, partially due to the hymn-like feeling of “let’s all just start over.” By the end of the song even as it gets stranger and scratchier it continues to sound like the music of a parade but from far away.

And what does the king hope to accomplish from this procession? What is he asking from his people? It’s pretty clear from the lyrics - a chance to start over, to prove himself again after the time spent in darkness. But he might already be in distress again as his hopes keep popping and turning into slime…

3. taste

“The Main-Deep” by James Stephens

The long, rolling
Steady-pouring,
Deep-trenchéd
Green billow:

The wide-topped,
Unbroken,
Green-glacid,
Slow-sliding,

Cold-flushing,
On--on--on--
Chill-rushing,
Hush-hushing,

Hush-hushing…

The king escapes from words for a while to stare at the sea.

4. burn the bridge

It’s difficult to get much out of the lyrics besides the mood throughout most of these songs: the fact that something is wrong. But it is plain enough that here the king expresses his desperate and even sensual struggle with the divine. And the song’s title is fitting - it does feel long, and smoldering, like smoke slowly accumulating, and it does feel like a bridge from the initial brighter, clearer songs to the deeper ones through the rest of the album.

5. the silvery sea

“But his heart was in a constant, turbulent riot. The most grotesque and fantastic conceits haunted him in his bed at night. A universe of ineffable gaudiness spun itself out in his brain while the clock ticked on the wash-stand and the moon soaked with wet light his tangled clothes upon the floor.” -The Great Gatsby

On my first reading the lyrics initially called to mind a mother, though on rereading I believe this is supposed to be romantic. This is a song that could be pulled out of the album and make just as much sense on its own as it's ever going to make, and it does make sense for me, though I couldn’t explain how - it tugs at my soul in a way none of these other songs do. The feelings it presents are familiar. Even though I couldn’t track down the exact meaning of each lyric, I feel I understand it as a whole, - and that’s more important.

This is the song supporting my notion that the king is lonely, and that his troubles are not only with the divine but with those around him.

6. bend or break

“You say that you are close, is close the closest star? You just feel twice as far; you just feel twice as far.” -Fake You Out by Twenty One Pilots

This song is pretty clearly about struggles with God, and actually seems to take us out of the fantasy realm to set us in gritty reality for a while. But the last stanza - though it begins as real - returns seamlessly into our larger story. Objects become personified, walls of fire appear, and the typical poison face appears - and I cannot help but remember the face that was ripped off in “Everyday,” which I claimed symbolized the singer’s “darker self.” The only curious thing is: is God still the “you” who is running away? Would He do that?

7. fussy baby

This track feels confident and driven compared to the more angsty tracks before it - almost valiant in the midst of conflict, like a king should be, only breaking down in the middle with the obscured vocals. I do not know what the meaning of the title might be. Perhaps a young royal has been newly born to the queen, and the king must valiantly face the accompanying trials. Or perhaps the king feels like a fussy baby himself, being now reborn from those earlier days. Or perhaps it means nothing at all.

8. stew (boil)

Along with “fussy baby” this feels like a moment of normalcy, a span of empty-headedness, and I imagine the king going about his daily activities perhaps feeling a little better - since this track, while not entirely happy, sounds similarly to the feel of a mind waking up and slowly shedding, or at least withstanding, the remnants of illness that still cling to it - the off-beat, scratchy pitches being those insistent scars, the wrinkling synths being the healthily flowing juices of the mind finally finding their way, the heavy-fisted beats being that fierce mental control attempting to shoot away all those evil remnants. From the way they fade out at the end, it seems the battle ended without a clear victory, leaving the mental conflict still somewhat unresolved.

9. blood so bright

This is the track that introduced to me the idea of the king, because who else has the authority to demand heads? And the head, clearly, is referring the dark self of the previous album. The king has begun to doubt that he has really shaken him off. And yet he has a strange kind of glee too. From the imagery of trampling towers, padded boots, and vehicles I cannot help but imagine the king engaged in some kind of war, perhaps a war in which he feels he will die - “it’s my final day alive.” As for the “they” that is referred to, within my theory I choose to believe that these are not characters central to the story, but some unknown party of people (perhaps soldiers in the war) the king had some responsibility to which has caused him yet another internal conflict.

10. heavenly hype train

“There was only a purple streak in the sky, cutting through a field of crimson and leading, like an extension of the highway, into the descending dusk…She saw the streak as a vast swinging bridge extending upward from the earth through a field of living fire. Upon it a vast horde of souls were rumbling toward heaven.” -from Revelation by Flannery O’Conner

For my own purposes I think the “you” in this song has three different parties attached to it. In the second two stanzas the king is addressing the dark self from before. He has realized - as he indicated in the first stanza - that he has not, in fact, gotten rid of him. The “poison face” is back with him, and this time he can look in its eyes, feel its temptations. In the fourth stanza I can’t help but think he is addressing the divine, describing the pains the dark self/poison face is inflicting on him. And in the fifth stanza he is addressing the world, at large, describing the process of realizing that you can never really get rid of the faces you’ve had, the other people you’ve been. The voices you heard will return, your mind will lose its healthy fluid and be dry again.

And yet - even despite his struggles - the king now has hope, unless he is being sarcastic, that harmony will be restored in the end.

It’s a surprisingly relaxed song for such an essential realization, as if it’s all happening through a daze.

11. new glory

Yet still he is not sure - after war, after illness, at the time of death, will he be able to face God? Will he remain petrified, will he crush out and ignore the Lord’s knowledge of him, or will be able to acknowledge that light he detests, the light he saw in that “she” who sang him prayers? Will he ever see heaven, that new glory, or remain insistently as dust, “coffin wrapped around his ears”?

THOUGHTS ON FORM: (addressed to the author)

I feel more inclined to “critique” than I did with Left Behind, now that I have a greater acquaintance with your style. The album feels more homogenous than the last one, with each song being less distinct from the others (by and large) - but there also seems to be more variety at the same time. Having both at once is probably due to the fact that there’s just more of it in the first place. The silvery sea also feels more “typical” than Left Behind, i.e. there are more musically “normal” moments and techniques - I’m not sure I could name any specifically, but “start over,” “silvery sea,” and “blood so bright” are examples of what I mean. The lyrical style is also a lot more straightforward, specifically on “bend or break,” which is perhaps your only song so far with an obvious meaning. But I would also say in general, reading over your transcription of the lyrics, that they feel more mature and heartfelt than in “Left Behind.” Even aside from any extra context, I am impressed by the depth of feeling and breadth of imagery, and the consistency of personal style. It feels like you are writing things you truly want to say. Again, “bend or break” is the best example of this. The last stanza is enough to send me into ecstasy - “Trees and fireworks kissed your forehead” - excuse me?? Not to mention “severed noises” and “gravel and concrete controlled my focus” and (moving onto other songs) holy spears of sky and Bible-black spiders and star-filled skies synthesizing, not to mention the entirety of “the silvery sea” - oh, the mood, the images formed by the bed and wind and birds and sea, it’s impeccable. If you wrote poetry separate from music, I would read it.

Musically if I were to ask for anything it would be the same request as I had for Left Behind; more vocal variation, or honestly, just a difference in how it’s processed. “The silvery sea” is one example where the instruments seem to want to break free, flying like spray through the air and all that, but the vocals (the effects on them, not the singing itself) keep it sort of pinned down, and can even feel incoherent with the rest of it. Changing that might not do much except to make it sound more “normal,” but can’t that also just be another word for “accessible”? So it’s something to consider. And variety is always nice to have. Whatever happened at 2:47 in “heavenly hype train,” for example… that slight moment of more lightness, more dimension… I could use more of that. I would love more of that.

CONCLUDING THOUGHTS:

As far as I can tell this is really well done all around, and it makes me all the more excited for what you’ll do in the future. When I asked Ella [a friend of ours] for her thoughts she said the ordering of the songs was superb, and I agree with her. It feels very complete and coherent. My personal favorite songs are “start over,” “the silvery sea,” and “stew (boil),” but especially “the silvery sea.” Also about “the silvery sea:” above I seemed to have some sort of complaint with the vocals, and I left it in since it was my genuine impression at that point, but having listened to it more I love it just the way it is. That’s a song I’ll probably revisit many times. And I must say it reminded me somehow of Aeroplane Over the Sea - what I remember of it anyways.

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So here are some mini-reviews of albums I enjoy. They may get more and more nonsensical and sentimental as they go on, and perhaps I’ll regret this in the morning… :)

1. Private - Speedometer

This feels like being driven into another dimension, but one not too different from our own— only a train ride away. The service is good. The driver is confident and peaceable. There’s no need to talk, especially as Yoshie Nakano croons along in the background,* her tones so heartbreakingly immaculate.

*She is featured on the second song, Private Roots.

2. Serene Reminder - The Fur.

What could more accurately describe this album than the concept, “home?” A home to come back to in the afternoon, with puffy beige coats laid over chairs and an empty ramen container on the counter and a handmade decoration over the sink. The sun comes through the window and glints on the dusty TV - a more interesting sight than if the TV was on, screen alight and moving. It’s not the time for that. Let’s sit at home and drink tea and hug each other and let ourselves feel sad, or even happy.

3. Art Angels - Grimes

It seems the insane princess has locked you away in her castle - perhaps she’s the real prisoner who just wants a friend? But for all her insanity and darkness, she has a lot of joy and honesty, and wide and varied views to be seen from her castle walls - are those new kinds of colors in the air? New species of beast and bird cavorting below, all possessed by an inescapable human countenance? So sensitive, so wise, yet so naive…

4. Debut - Björk

There’s more going on here than I know how to analyze— and I always feel that way with Björk, like I’m peeking into a world I don’t really belong to, attending a party for a friend of a friend. But I like the energy of this album. It’s thin and fiery like the fluid in my stomach when I’m nervous.

5. Aja - Steely Dan

I owe this one to my Dad. Only recently did I find out it’s considered one of the finest, smoothest jazz/rock fusion albums ever, not just one of Dad’s “cool CDs.” And it makes sense — a steady pace you can immerse yourself in, that dry dark blue voice, the lyrics that don’t make much sense but perfectly embody that gnawing, trying-to-hold-it-together overgrown teenage masculinity we can all instinctually recognize— rather how I imagined Odysseus, really.*

*According to Genius Lyrics, the 5th track “Home At Last” is inspired by the story of Odysseus.

6. Woodland - The Paper Kites

Annoyingly perfect (especially the first and last song), exactly what it promises to be, from its album cover and track titles: sun filling the air around guitar strings, darkness by the sea, unconquerable love, and a lot I don’t understand, but that’s folk music. I’ve wanted to write about it for ages, but I realize, it speaks for itself…

7. December - George Winston

My old math teacher always played this in class, so now I always associate it with completion, with order and thought, sets and relations, blank white paper and the pivoting of rulers, turning of pages. But apart from all that, it flutters with emotions so delicate, what are you to do in response except to feel? Not all music is really pure emotions, but this could be said to be…

8. Arc of a Diver - Steve Winwood

No, not much to see here, or maybe it’s just late and I’m getting tired, but really, does one have to think all the time? Sometimes you need a melody to lean back into, that won’t let go and won’t ask too many questions.

9. 28 Reasons - Seulgi

Could this be K-pop in its best form? Spooky and bright all at once? Each song with its own distinct snap?

I don’t know who hurt Seulgi - or who she hurt, rather - but I am pulling up my chair, ready for the story that brews like a storm over the city.

10. Now, Not Yet - half•alive

It’s easy to hear this album and think, “handle with care” — so fragile the singer feels as he pours out his heart, so delicate each song, like handfuls of colored feathers. But there’s a definite confidence in it too, a “come on, try me.” The speaker behind Now, Not Yet knows who he is or at least who he’s becoming.

11. Straight Ahead - Amy Grant

Can there be any greater earthly power than Amy Grant’s voice?? It’s a strange question to ask in such a context, but is she indeed an Olympian goddess, who mercifully contains her power within her voice rather than let it flood forth in its full glory to break upon the world???

And when you consider the tight, delectable melodies on each song - celestial as it feels, this album is just as much as simple, sturdy, and filling as bread and cheese, a faithful provision for the journey.

12. Good Monsters - Jars of Clay

I will happily live in this space, of absolute faith but confusion in every other part of life — of black pipes and brown fur overlaid with sickly gold, of the same feeling Fahrenheit 451 evokes perfectly bound up with every connotation of Christianity and church. And “Dead Man (Carry Me)” can carry me to the grave, because I could happily leave it on repeat forever.

This was a bit of a silly/self-indulgent post, but perhaps you found something to pique your interest. And it’s nice to write about music again.

I didn’t enjoy piano lessons for a long time, but I practiced every day so that I would be allowed to play Minecraft afterwards. By seventh grade, I liked and even loved playing piano, but practicing could still feel like a chore. By ninth grade, I was frustrated by the way I was taught—learning pieces from piano books until I could play it well once and then quickly moving on, without the time to review and memorize that I desired—and I asked to stop lessons and take my musical life into my own hands. But since a week in the summer after tenth grade, where I practiced nonstop during a visit to my grandparents’ house and suddenly lost all my energy, I’ve barely practiced or learned any new pieces on my dear instrument. Most of my musical engagement has been in choir or in halfhearted attempts to pick up the guitar.

With piano, as with art, I have long struggled with possible perceptions of myself compared to others. Most of my other piano-playing peers seemed to possess piano-playing as yet another attribute of their “coolness,” or sociability, or whatever quality it is that I have agonized over the lack of in myself. They could either sit down and improvise whatever they wanted, or the songs they knew sounded cool and “popular.” I really only knew classical pieces, I couldn’t play by ear for the life of me, and I didn’t have much memorized in the first place. I could play piano, but it didn’t feel like a tool I could really wield in society to get other’s attention, to make them realize, “ah, that’s Anna, yes, that’s who she is. She plays piano.” No, it was just another half-skill like my stories and my art and my humor and everything else I had. This is all in speaking of my elementary-and-middle-school self, of course, though I will never be totally done with those struggles.

But I must remind myself—and I wish I could tell my younger self this—that playing piano doesn’t have to be worthwhile because of what it does for you in the jostle and bustle of the grade school social sphere. Playing piano can be worthwhile in the settings where I, myself, have always felt most comfortable: in the private setting of my home, where my playing is a pleasure purely to me and my family, or in the formal setting of the recital, where I perform for a quietly assembled audience whose sensibilities are already prepared.

There is nothing else like it: a world made only of black, white, and wood, and your own hands, your own ordinary everyday hands, pressing bars of black and white and making beauty. You are just sitting like you would sit down to eat breakfast, but you are making beauty, and the kinds of beauty you can make are endless. As far as I’ve noticed, nothing is much different between your mind playing piano and doing any other activity. You can still wander off inside and think about other things. But playing piano is a unique little corner to sit and think in, in the space between notes and pages and the sunlight and shadows falling on the page.

One of my favorite little spaces to sit in, as you might expect from the title of the post, is Claude Debussy’s little piece “La fille aux cheveux de lin,” or, “The Girl with the Flaxen Hair.”

I have a CD set of Debussy’s complete piano music, and the liner notes say that his compositional style is “often described as ‘impressionist',’ a cliché that the composer himself detested.” Whatever the composer’s own thoughts on the matter, I can see how that would be a fitting term, because like an Impressionist painter, Debussy’s piano music takes bits and pieces and rather than combining them together places them next to each other, one leading into the next. The result is a movement through different emotions, paces, states of mind in each piece, often with unexpected turns. I find Debussy’s piano music irresistibly beautiful for this. It is like sitting alone in a dim room with only one’s thoughts, dreamy sort of thoughts without any practicality to them, and consistently discovering new insights, new smatters of hope or sadness, that feel unexpected but arise perfectly from whatever came before. And yet the trance is never broken. Despite all the differing moods, there is but one lovely moment, and every bit of the train of thought belongs there and can never be taken out of it without losing some of its exciting beauty. The reverie may be sad, happy, or both, but it is deliciously deep and sentimental regardless. And sometimes that’s just what you need.

I played “La fille aux cheveux de lin” for my final piano recital in ninth grade, alongside “Charlie Brown Theme” by Vince Guaraldi (not “Linus and Lucy”) and a few Romanian Folk Dances by Bartók. It is the only calm, melancholy piece of the bunch, a perfect contrast to the other bright, charismatic songs. Memorizing it for the recital was a delight, and if I remember correctly, I played it at the recital without a hitch. So being the only Debussy song to have passed under my fingertips, it is very precious to me.

The piece starts with a lone D-flat that I love to hold out exaggeratedly and then falls into a rippling rhythm, rolling gently up and down. All the “turns” in this song, the unexpected transitions and enhancements, feel like lowerings, groundings, landing places, like returning a child to the ground after holding them, or releases, like flower petals let loose on a gentle breeze. There is maybe one moment of really excited tension, like happiness and desperation at the same time (around measure 21 if you are really inquisitive and have the sheet music), but the piece is usually very light and spare, almost frivolously so.

I remember playing this song in front of my crush once, and since I myself am blonde (and the moment felt rather romantic already) I hoped, vaguely, to be in some sense “the girl with the flaxen hair” for him— that is, if he ever encountered the piece again, I hoped he’d think of me. Unfortunately I feel far from the tranquil, graceful spirit of that piece most of the time and so I’m probably not the best match. But I feel quite sure that I will never get any closer to that ideal girl with the flaxen hair as long as I keep thinking about it.

Self-consciousness is often a ruiner of ideals. Pieces as beautiful as these are not as easy to express one’s delight in nowadays. It feels strange to be struck by profound beauty when so much of our culture is focused on the edgy or sarcastic. But as long as I am the one at the piano I can tuck myself away in the beauty of this piece and not worry about looking stupid or vulnerable. I am not only enjoying the piece, I am playing it. For a moment, it is mine, my world.

Thank you for reading, everyone! If you want to listen to a recording of this piece, there are plenty on YouTube, but I particularly like this one. It’s not too fast :)

Also… it has come to my attention that today, February 18th, is the one year anniversary of Conception! (Not of its anniversary on Substack, but as a blog at all). Consider this post an anniversary special, dedicated to everyone who’s been reading along. I’m so grateful for you :) And I only have bigger plans to come.

Much love,

-Anna

The main elements of Twenty One Pilot’s music are Josh Dun’s drums, Tyler Joseph’s somewhat gravelly tenor rap and vocals, occasional ukulele, and a strong keyboard presence - whether synths or piano. This album in particular is hard to describe because there are few natural sensations I can compare it to - it's a self-contained, electronic world of abstract poetry flowing out from a deep inner well of emotion. My best comparison is that it’s like being bathed in tears and neon colors and shadows (and that could be applied to many of their other songs as well).

The reason why it’s so contained and abstract is because it’s deeply concerned with the self and the mind. The singer1 is fraught with trying to resolve the mysterious chasm within himself - wringing his hands over his anxiety, his selfishness, his hypocrisy. At the same time he is desperately trying to seek God and only getting the vaguest glimpses, like staring up at a dark cloud with the white sun flaring out only at the edges. This is very much a fall and winter album, I think - when nature dies and a troubled mind becomes more active.

I only just realized as I sat down to write this that this album inhabits the same part of my brain as Madeleine L’Engle’s book A Wrinkle In Time. Glancing back at the book, this makes more sense than I thought. In my imagination, Camazotz (the planet Meg, Calvin, and Charles Wallace visit to find Mr. Murry) is a cold, mechanical world, similar to the electronic sound of Vessel. And in Wrinkle In Time, as in Vessel, a principal problem is the brain all by itself, disconnected from love, controlling everything by its tyrannous rhythm.

She knew that her own puny little brain was no match for this great, bodiless, pulsing, writhing mass on the round dais. She shuddered as she looked at IT. In the lab at school there was a human brain preserved in formaldehyde, and the seniors preparing for college had to take it out and look at it and study it. Meg had felt that when the day came she would never be able to endure it. But now she thought that if only she had a dissecting knife she would slash at IT, cutting ruthlessly through cerebrum, cerebellum. 
          -A Wrinkle In Time, p. 195

I begin to assemble what weapons I can find
'Cause sometimes to stay alive, you gotta kill your mind
          -"Migraine"

And the line “I kinda like it when I make you cry” from “Semi-Automatic” seems like a sentiment the possessed Charles Wallace would share.

So the comparison does make sense. Both the singer in Vessel and the world of Camazotz are under the strict rule of a mind other than God’s, and for that reason, they are tyrannized.

I’m not going to discuss every track on this album - but here are my favorite ones.

• Ode to Sleep (track 1). This song switches from dark and aggressive, to upbeat, to pleading and sparkling, somehow bittersweet. The transitions are smooth, despite these sharp contrasts. According to Genius, Tyler Joseph has said of this song, “The reason why this is the first song on the album is that I feel like it kind of prepares the listener for the rest of the album, it almost puts them through a boot camp of what to expect… Which is don’t expect anything!” And sonically “Ode to Sleep” certainly does do that, taking all the dark and bright moods of the album and separating them out. (By “dark and bright” I don’t mean “sad and happy.” Almost every song on this record is sad at heart, but some are still upbeat on the outside). Lyrically - well, there’s a lot crammed into the lyrics, as you can see on Genius, but some of the most interesting bits are the biblical references. In verse one Tyler asks, “I’m pleading “Please, oh please!” on my knees repeatedly asking/Why it’s got to be like this, is this living free?” and the phrase “living free” has always reminded me of Bible verses about freedom, such as “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36) and “For you were called to freedom, brothers” (Galatians 5:13). The most obvious reference is that of Peter’s denial of Jesus in verse 2 (which again mentions freedom): “I’m not free, I asked forgiveness three times/Same amount that I denied, I three-time MVP’d this crime/I’m afraid to tell you who I adore/won’t tell you who I’m singing towards.” I’ll let you ponder that for yourself. So there you go. I wouldn’t often listen to this song by itself, but it really does set the tone for the album.

• Holding Onto You (track 2). I think I’ll talk about this one last.

• Migraine (track 3). (I’m going to try to be more brief than my Ode to Sleep description from now on). This is another of the most notable songs on the album, where the singer gives the most explicit explanation of what’s going on his head. It’s actually quite catchy, for also being …..heartbreaking. “Am I the only one I know, oh/Waging my wars behind my face and above my throat?”

• House of Gold (track 4). I have had mixed feelings about this song for a long time. It is the only happy song on Vessel, a …ukulele anthem… about…. Tyler’s mother? It’s singable, youthful, loving, lighthearted (not that Tyler himself sounds happy, but the instrumentals do), and offputtingly quirky. “She asked me son, when I grow old/Will you buy me a house of gold?/And when your father turns to stone/Will you take care of me?/I will make you queen of everything you see/I’ll put you on the map, I’ll cure you of disease.” I suppose Tyler’s care for his mother is a refreshing break from his toil of inner anguish, while also setting a very good example for all sons! Some more great life philosophy is found in the second verse: “And since we know that dreams are dead/And life turns plans upon their head/I will plan to be a bum/So I just might become someone.”

• Fake You Out (track 9). When I say this album sounds electronic, cold, and cerebral, this is the song I mean. And yet it feels electronic and cerebral in the most desperate way, shimmering with beauty despite the isolation of the sound and the lyrics, similar to a galaxy or a star - which of course I think of, since the latter is referenced in the pre-chorus: “You say that you are close, is close the closest star?/You just feel twice as far, you just feel twice as far.”

• Trees (track 10). The singer has been struggling with God throughout the whole album, undeniably, with noisy poetry and pained metaphors, but here the plea becomes most simple. Still intense, but a bit more tired. Maybe more “prayerful,” the way we usually think of that. “I know where You stand/Silent in the trees/And that’s where I am/Why won’t You speak/Where I happen to be?”

• Holding Onto You. So this is my favorite on Vessel - my favorite song ever, in fact, if I had to choose one. And I have to put it last, because often, for me in life, this is where I come down to. Hearing the opening chords is like coming down to earth after an unwieldy flight, and the impact hurts a little bit, but there’s relief, ultimately. This song is expansive, multi-textured, four minutes long with two bridges, though it still goes way too fast. I could say more about the lyrics - how they beautifully tie together the struggle with one’s mind, the beauty of faith, and the importance for humans of making art (one of TØP’s less obvious themes, and one of my favorite things to think about, ever) - but in poetry-nerd fashion I want to point out the assonance (repeated vowel sounds) in the chorus, because due to this song assonance is my favorite poetic device;

  Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

  You are surrounding, all of my surroundings,
  Sounding down the mountain range of my left-side brain
  You are surrounding, all of my surroundings, 
  Twisting the kaleidescope behind both of my eyes.

  So yeah, that’s definitely poetry.

So there’s a bare summary of what I like about this album, hopefully enough to make you listen to it and appreciate it. I like Vessel2 because, similarly to Madeleine L’Engle’s books, it shows size as relative, the self as a battleground, humans as responsible, and God as bigger than we can imagine, with the most important conflict of all being that between His love and our darkness. Or that’s how I interpret it, anyway.

I first heard Caroline Polachek’s cover of “Spring is Coming With a Strawberry in the Mouth” on my sister’s Spotify on a long drive, and on returning home and listening to it again, it became another one of my heart-songs… thoughts may feel cerebral, as if they really are passing through my skull, but songs, songs never do… When I say a song is “stuck in my head” often it’s really more stuck in my soul, or in my heart rather - somewhere between the sternum and the stomach. This happens often to me with songs, to the point that I have a playlist titled “all past + present favorites” with 521 songs currently (and it’s probably not yet complete). 

This Polachek song is especially close to my heart because it reminds me that I am in love. It digs up all those bright, fresh feelings that time can bury as if under leaves: that feeling of sweet delight that requires nothing - the counterpart to and blessed reprieve from the usual desperation of desire. It is something dangerously close to the feeling of pure fulfillment, though of course like any youthful euphoria on this earth’s crust, it won’t last. “Spring is Coming” is rose-pink, dancing and trembling. “Oo-oos” fly off the stage of my mind, bouncing off the ceiling of the auditorium. (I appreciate the fact that each vocalization is not the same - there’s light nuance in the repetition). Buildings and cities transition with streaks of yellow light into pastoral gardens aburst with roses, whose quiet refinement make room for the heart-etherealizing passion of the singer - or perhaps I should say the listener, since to be completely honest I don’t know the original meaning of this song. That’s one of the mysterious things about music - how by ricocheting around in my heart long enough, a song becomes my own, and I and the singer (and the writer and the composer and all the musicians involved, if they’re different people) become one in my imagination, and my intent becomes theirs. Objective intent of the original artist gives way to how I subjectively interpret the song, having translated it through my own current emotions and experiences.

And as a result of this translation, the song comes to possess my very heart and bones. It becomes the soundtrack that, for a moment, defines my reality, not through its words necessarily, though they retain their own meaning, but through its sound and expression, which align themselves perfectly to my spirit - whatever can be found there at the time. I may be aware of the words’ meanings but they’re not what’s important to me, at least not in the most immersive and expansive songs - songs that are like a place I come back to, the same environs but with the same invitation for me to bring something new of my own - songs whose effect are “more than a feeling.” Boston understood. I don’t know what the music in that song was about, but it was the soundtrack for the songwriter’s distress as he “sees Marianne walk away.” And yet the sad love story feels incongruous with the warm ecstasy of the song, just as I absorb and adapt to music regardless of the intended meaning behind it.

Who can explain this lack of congruity? Is it a failure of the artists to produce an emotion that matches their message? Or is it a reflection on me? Put more thoroughly, is it a failure to integrate content with style, as Schaeffer requires? Or are there emotions and attitudes so powerful within myself that the presence of any music at all, regardless of its intent, will draw out those attitudes? Whichever it is, I can’t say I mind the inconsistency. It allows me to enjoy music without feeling beholden to the worldview that is being intellectually expressed.

This music will not fade - March 2024

I lie on my bed and listen
To a new song as it’s becoming a friend,
And when I leave my bed later in the day
And it still hums through my head, then I know
This music will not fade, but will stay - 
Snuggled up under my sternum,
Caught like gauze in my ribcage,
Singing in my intestines,
Gathered between my knuckles,
Pumping through my wrists,
Settling in my hair,
Smeared on my fingertips,
Piping perpetually with soft but potent breath
In my neck
Or the soles of my feet - 
Where like a forgotten mole or scar
It will always be there,
Waiting to be found again.

A harmonica is easy to carry. Take it out of your hip pocket, knock it against your palm to shake out the dirt and pocket fuzz and bits of tobacco. Now it’s ready. You can do anything with a harmonica: thin reedy single tone, or chords, or melody with rhythm chords. You can mold the music with curved hands, making it wail and cry like bagpipes, making it full and round like an organ, making it as sharp and bitter as the reedpipes of the hills. And you can play and put it back in your pocket. It is always with you, always in your pocket. And as you play, you learn new tricks, new ways to mold the tone with your hands, to pinch the tone with your lips, and no one teaches you. You feel around - sometimes alone in the shade at noon, sometimes in the tent door after supper when the women are washing up. Your foot taps gently on the ground. Your eyebrows rise and fall in rhythm. And if you lose it or break it, why, it’s no great loss. You can buy another for a quarter.

…

These three in the evening, harmonica and fiddle and guitar. Playing a reel and tapping out the tune, and the big deep strings of the guitar beating like a heart, and the harmonica’s sharp chords and the skirl and squeal of the fiddle. People have to move close. They can’t help it. “Chicken Reel” now, and the feet tap and a young lean buck takes three quick steps, and his arms hang limp. The square closes up and the dancing starts, feet on the bare ground, beating dull, strike with your hands. Hands ‘round and swing. Hair falls down, and panting breaths. Lean to the side now.

-The Grapes of Wrath, Chapter 23

So I do have a favorite genre, even though it’s not one I talk about a lot. I don’t listen to it much, either, if I’m being honest. I only know a handful of full albums that fit within this category, and only a handful of names important to the genre. But this music is visceral enough, universal enough, and old enough that all that doesn’t matter. The genre is Celtic music.

I grew up with a handful of Celtic CDs around the house and car - a compliation CD called Legends of the Scottish Fiddle, a couple of Bonnie Rideout albums, and the album Grey Havens by our friends Roughly Hewn. When I got a bit older I found Alisdair Fraser’s albums Highlander’s Farewell and The Road North in hidden corners of our car and played them over and over, with inextinguishable delight.

To give some examples, I well remember listening to Fraser’s “Jig Runrig/The Ramnee Ceilidh” whilst lying on my bed in 7th grade and feeling the most “in love” I ever had. I still can’t listen to Highlander’s Farewell without my insides dissolving into a thousand drops of joy. “Tommy’s Tarbukas”, from another of Fraser’s albums, is one of those songs I have insisted on playing over and over and over and over and over and over in the car, without breaks or apology.

Fortunately, I’ve been able to interact with Celtic music beyond just listening. Every year our school hosts a Ceili, or traditional Irish dance, where Roughly Hewn (my choir teacher’s band) plays. Anyone can dance with anyone else - grandmas with little kids, giggling middle schoolers with each other, high schoolers (of whom there aren’t many, usually) with anyone else who’s willing, husbands with wives. Along the side of the hall we dance in, tables are loaded with cookies. When I was little, Ceilis seemed the epitome of romance and excitement. Now that I’m older and have done more dances, the night goes by fast, I’m used to holding others’ hands, and most of the drama is gone.

But still. To attend a Ceili - or to attend my school’s more formal Protocol event, featuring similar contra dancing - must be one of the most treasured privileges of my life so far. There are not many greater joys than to weave and bob in coordination, either with perfect rhythm or wild dashes of unprofessionality, both elegant and cheerfully ingenuous, to music that, with string and drum, soars with the utmost distillation of human emotion.

Music, driving, and daydreaming form an A+ combination. One of my earliest realizations of this? Listening to The Goat Rodeo Sessions on an evening drive to Portland. The sun was setting, and I had just been reading Rudyard Kipling’s Just So Stories. The music - so full of change, nuance, and mystery, sometimes soaring and sometimes simmering - the exotic mix of bluegrass and classical - turned the purple shapes across the horizon into animals like the ones I’d been reading about. Chasing each other across the orange sky, slowly shifting, becoming an unexpected fusion of elements. Through my child’s mind, the music and the tangy colors of the sky were somehow telling the same story.

Everyone agrees that the most fun songs in choir are the African ones. Songs like Akekho Ofana.

There are three good memories attached to this song, from the 2022-2023 school year (a very good year for me overall).

One was practicing with our choir director’s friend, a man packed with precision and energy. If anyone can get us to get our head in the game, it’s him. I remember one day we were in the pavilion in the front of our school, performing Akekho for him. And the main problem, per usual, was energy. Too many people were just standing still and repeating the words, as if that could match the beat or the message at all.

So to get us moving, he had us scatter and exchange handshakes, high fives, fist bumps, as we sang.

Ephesians 5:19 says to “address one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs.” That was what we did. And there’s really nothing like circling around in the open air, greeting others with a song about Jesus on your lips.

Another memory - was it the same day? I don’t remember. But we were outside in the pavilion again, singing Akekho in our choir formation, facing the cars coming in to drop off their kids for the day. It was a sunny day, and some of the children might have given us confused looks - the performance wasn’t planned or anything. But what does it matter when you’re dancing and singing in morning light?

And the final memory takes place on our Hawaii trip, that most excellent of trips - a memory we all treasure. We were staying in a tiny, idyllic hostel - all cobblestones and succulents and worn plastic chairs - and had crammed into its tiny kitchen one evening for rehearsal. Thus ensued the most energetic rendition of Akekho we maybe ever performed - everyone crammed up against counters or dancing in the middle, singing at the top of our lungs. My voice was shot afterwards.

There’s really nothing to compare to giving your all in music. One of my number one dreams (and perhaps unattainable, this side of glory) is to sing that song with all the same people just as we did that night in that kitchen, with enough energy to break those walls down.

If heaven really is eternal singing… I don’t think I’ll mind.

Listening to good music feels like being taken up into the stars where you can see the whole world and just being held there to see it all, and then learning there's a fifty-fifty chance it'll all fade away in the next instant. And you'll either return home, or fade with it, or end up somewhere else, beyond all the stars….

“Now, not yet” is a familiar phrase among Christian circles, used to describe the tension we live in between the initial arrival of God’s kingdom through Jesus and its fulfillment in his second coming. It’s one of those phrases that can start to feel cheesy and outworn. So wouldn’t it be cool if a young indie band used it as the title for their lively, introspective debut album?

In this article I’ll evaluate the album of said name by the band half-alive, and to do so I will use Francis Schaeffer’s standards of judging art as a Christian, from his book Art and the Bible. He lists four standards: 1) technical excellence, 2) validity, 3) intellectual content, and 4) the integration of content and vehicle. Technical excellence measures the skill of the artist, taking into consideration his use of the elements of art and principles of design. Validity is whether an artist is honest to himself and his worldview. Schaeffer asserts that if art is made solely for money or for the approval of others, it does not have validity. Measuring intellectual content, for a Christian, means comparing the worldview expressed in the artwork to a worldview based on Scripture. This can be judged completely objectively whether or not the artist is a Christian. And the fourth standard, integration of content and vehicle, asks whether the artist uses forms and elements in a way that matches his message. Schaeffer uses the example of T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland,” which uses broken, haphazard language to describe a broken, haphazard world.

Judged by these standards, Now, Not Yet rates highly in all four categories, although it should be admitted that, lacking a more detailed explanation of the standards from Schaeffer, this evaluation is very much based on my personal interpretation and experience with the album. In this article I will first consider the album’s technical excellence, to set the context, and then consider validity, integration of content and vehicle, and intellectual content after having summarized the album’s themes.

To start off, I think that Now, Not Yet could be rated reasonably high as far as technical excellence. Schaeffer does not provide rules for how to measure this standard, except for mentioning the elements of visual art, but considering a few principles of design will do. For the most part, Now, Not Yet has a cohesive sound, with both balance and variety. Vocals and instruments have an equal weight in each song. Background vocals and synth riffs interweave, while the main vocal line, percussion, and keyboards are all clear and soulful. The result feels complex and lush. In mood the album varies from dancey to slow and gentle, but is ultimately hopeful with a bittersweet undertone - and this matches the lyrical themes of the album, as we’ll see soon. One potential weak spot of the album is tracks 9 and 10, “ice cold” and “Rest,” which are less abstract and complex than the other songs, but they don’t seriously detract from the glory of the whole.

Before talking about the other standards, I’d like to walk us through the progression of the album, so that we can see its lyrics, music, and structure as a unified whole. Let us consider Now, Not Yet a mostly one-sided, multilayered conversation where the singer is trying to work out who he is and how to view his life, and only clearly fixes his answer at the very end. The album begins by exploring the idea of self-acceptance in “ok ok?”, a textured song with complex rhythms and vocals, and “RUNAWAY”, which is uptight and catchy. “Maybe” takes this idea of acceptance and shifts it into having hope for one’s future, despite the frustrating patterns of the past. “Still feel” describes the tension of feeling alienated and grounded, dead and alive, all at once. “TrusT” begins to sound more desperate as it laments the struggle of faith. “Arrow” applies the theme of tension to a struggle to stay “in the moment.” Then we’re suddenly met with an odd, but straightforward piano-and-vocal pattern in the song “Pure Gold.” The lyrics describe a mysterious beauty - rare as gold, yet overabundant, overwhelming but recognizable: “Wrapped up in pure gold, tenfold/Oh Lord, I know it’s the beauty You hold.” In the next songs, “ice cold” and “Rest,” the singer seems more confident in himself and offers a positive outlook on life to others, while in “BREAKFAST” he gains the courage to break down and express vulnerability. For a moment the song features the opening riff from “Pure Gold,” hinting that his new vulnerability is somehow haunted - or blessed? - by the flickers of beauty he encountered earlier. But the real expression of what this album is trying to say comes in the final and longest track, “creature.” This song puts all the themes from earlier - hope, tension of death and life, self-acceptance - into the context of living as God’s creation, made to be perfect, suffering from fallenness, but waiting to be redeemed: “I know I’m made of clay that’s worn/Blinded by imperfect form/But I will trust the artist molding me/I am creation, both haunted and holy.” It is also only in this song that the singer mentions Jesus by name: “Humanity is not alone/When Jesus Christ sits on the throne.” The song sounds triumphant but also exploratory and still somewhat desperate, like the journey has only just started. The end of the song doesn’t even resolve, but flickers out mysteriously. Maybe the singer was overwhelmed with emotion, or maybe we’re now left to continue his train of thought on our own.

So how does this unfolding conversation hold up under the standards of validity and integration of content and vehicle? Validity is hard to measure when one doesn’t know the artist personally, but the theme of inner tension aligns with half-alive’s already-established image - they’ve stated in interviews that their name refers to the tension in each person between life and death, dark and light, spirit and flesh. What about content and vehicle - does the style match the message? I would argue so - the songs pulse with processed synths over an acoustic foundation, and this evokes the idea of the mind and spirit enfleshed as described in “creature.” The unexpected rhythms in “ok ok?”, “Pure Gold,” and “creature” evoke tension just as much as the lyrics. And the composition feels the least experimental on the songs that have the most straightforward, grounded things to say: “ice cold” and “Rest.”

And maybe most pressing for a Christian, how does this album’s content fit within a Christian worldview? Ultimately, Now, Not Yet is a subtle and highly personal apologetic - every tension the singer struggles with throughout the album finds its resolution, or at least hope of resolution, in God as his creator and redeemer. Some Christians may wonder, however - was it cowardly of the songwriters to wait until the final track to mention Jesus explicitly? Are songs like “ok ok?” that encourage “being yourself” just pandering to worldly themes and desires? Well, in context, no, because this self-acceptance is part of the realization that one is created and redeemed by God. This is why considering an album as a whole is such a valuable thing to do. Perhaps the slow build and sudden reveal of this album is an effective way to deliver the message of the gospel. The ordinary unbelieving person could listen along, initially appreciating the album’s more generic themes, then gaining interest in the singer’s strange bittersweet hopefulness, and then coming to the bemused realization with the final song, that it’s faith - that excruciating but hope-giving force - that underpins this whole journey.

I shall leave you with a twofold encouragement: first, listen to this album. Give it a try, and see if it offers an accurate expression of the tension we all live in, every day, between life and death, spirit and flesh. And secondly, take Schaeffer’s standards of judgment with you, apply them to the works of art you encounter, and see what insights you find. Much wisdom and hope can be found when we examine ourselves in the light of our identity as God’s creatures. 

I have faith that the world I’m in/Will be redeemed to its place again/But there’s a weight that I can’t contain/So tell me why I feel this way -“TrusT”

As I’ve been commenting in post after post, “real life” is coming closer and closer, every day… not that college life is totally “real life,” but it’s a step forward. And I’ve been thinking about how, if writing is going to be one of my main occupations in my life (which I hope it is), I need to be working towards that as much as possible. Looking at my current writing projects now - my novelistic aspirations, my poetry, my literary or philosophical ramblings and my reflections specifically about music - I don’t know which projects are going to “carry through” and make up the core of my writing-based contributions to the world (assuming any of them make a splash at some level). In other words, I don’t know which kind of writing I’ll “major in,” if any, throughout my career. (Though to be honest I hope it’s the novels). But I’d better work away a little at each of them, to be ready for any circumstance.

ALL THIS TO SAY…. I decided to come up with some music-writing Goals. They are technically tentative, and it may be a very long time before I get to all of them, but they are goals. When I feel the urge to write about music, I will have some sort of structure. I can see what goal is next to accomplish. These Goals are based off the more broad category of Interests, or Areas to Explore (capitalizing is fun and makes me feel old-fashioned), which are listed below. So here you go, I’m being completely transparent with you - you know what to expect.

First Category: Philosophical Questions

These are broad questions I wonder about that I may attempt to answer in my writing. In my post Music's Mystery I had a set of four topics that I found most interesting at the time, which were objectivity in evaluating music, role of music, definition of music, and the effect of accessibility of music. My questions now have slightly evolved out of those topics. They are:

1. What are the standards by which we (Christians in particular) ought to evaluate music?

2. What is Gen Z’s experience with music compared to past generations?

3. What distinguishes music (in its effect especially) from other art forms?

4. How does the media within which we receive music affect our relationship with it?

Next Category: Areas of Interest/Exploration

These are the topics that currently spark my interest, in order of the magnitude of said spark.

Genres

• Anything I already listen to

• K-pop

• CCM

• bedroom pop/indie

• new bluegrass

• piano music written for students

  Goal: write a piece or pieces (most likely a series) about at least one of these.

Artists

• Aurora

• half-alive

• Jacob Collier

• Twenty One Pilots

• U2

• Mamamoo

• Coldplay

• Amy Grant

• TobyMac

• Vulfpeck

• Owl City

  Goal: write about at least four of these. Write about the personal, subjective significance to me of at least two of them, and write more objectively about at least two of them (try to define their cultural significance).

Themes/Concepts

• Mental conflict

• Social dynamics

• Spiritual life

• Youth

• Fantasy and sci-fi

• Character studies

• Social/political ideas

• Nostalgia

• Christian theology and biblical ideas

• Seasons and nature

• Friendship

• Euphoric love

  Goal: get or find at least 5 new songs or albums containing these themes and write about them.

Albums

• Anything new I find interesting

• All Aurora albums

• All of half-alive’s albums

• Jars of Clay (self-titled)

• Twenty One Pilots’ early albums

• Good Kid 4 by Good Kid

• We Can’t Dance by Genesis

• Mamamoo’s 4 Seasons project

• Holy Rebellion by Hollyn

• All Blackpink albums

• Untourable Album by Men I Trust

• Uncanny Valley by Coin

• Trespass by Genesis

  Goal: write a piece each for at least 5 albums.

Other

• the state of music criticism today, especially on the internet

  Goal: I’m not sure.

Final Category: Other General Ideas

Community-related projects:

• Poll results (a while ago I sent out a poll asking people some questions about music, and I never wrote anything about the results. I do hope to do that).

• Interviews (I’d be up for interviewing people about the role of music in their lives, if anyone’s interested!)

Other series ideas:

• Memoir-style reflections on the music I think has shaped my music taste.

Well I think this was a rather self-indulgent post. I mainly needed a way to organize my thoughts. But hopefully having this public will keep me accountable. I also hope that if any of you, my readers, have suggestions or ideas for what I should listen to and/or write about, you will let me know. In fact, I really, really, really hope you do that :)

You can’t hold me, when I get to feelin’ this way/It’s all over, I’m inside that music that’s playin’ - “Spanish Dancer” by Steve Winwood

    I’ve enjoyed Birdy’s music many times over the last few years, by myself or with friends. This British singer came to fame by winning a singing contest, Open Mic UK, at age twelve and then releasing a platinum single - a cover of “Skinny Love” by Bon Iver - at age fifteen. She has five albums so far: a self-titled album of covers, Fire Within, Beautiful Lies, Young Heart, and Portraits. She also has various covers, songs on the soundtracks of The Fault In Our Stars, The Hunger Games, Brave, and Netflix’s Persuasion, and collaborations with various other artists, too many to list for now.  What I most enjoy about her is her elegant, full voice, which paired with her classic beauty and dark-themed music videos makes her seem like a protagonist from an old-fashioned British novel. She’s a very fit companion for dreamy, bookwormish teenage girls. And what I recently realized is how her album Young Heart is a particularly good companion for any romantic, anxious, determined, introverted, artistic young lover shortly to face the adventure and ordeal of entering adulthood. Like me. 

Young Heart, released in 2021, has been my favorite album of hers ever since I discovered her. Compared to her albums both before and after, it’s gentle and authentic, very melancholy in overall tone, flavored by soft piano and guitar. It’s 16 tracks, and despite the cohesiveness of tone every one has something unique to offer. 

A few days ago when listening to this album, I was already in a special mood. It was rainy and cloudy that day, despite being July, and this injected me with a certain emotion I’ve experienced annually for years and which I simply call “the fall feeling,” although it usually occurs in late summer. There's no way to explain this emotion except to describe its symptoms - a clear head, excitement for the future, nostalgia for the past, and an element of romance to what I'm doing, which is usually something pure and wholesome in itself. All of these combine into a kind of compressed passion that takes into account all my dreams for the future and the good things from the past and makes me feel like a character from a movie about to step into the next stage of the story. I could try to describe this emotion in a hundred different ways and still not quite hit the mark. It wouldn't be itself if I could describe it. But anyways, I think the reason why I associate this feeling with fall is because for me that's when life seems to begin. There's school, obviously, the main activity of my life thus far, which I do usually enjoy - but I like to point out that my life also literally began in fall, because my birthday is in October. And from there fall flows seamlessly into the holiday season, the rich, pulsing, heart and beginning and end of the year.

           I have even more reason to experience this concern with past and future now. This next school year is the last one before I head out into the world of college and try to make a life for myself. Over the last month, I've been planning college visits and trying to establish good habits. The future is most of what takes up my brain.

            So that's the context of my renewed appreciation for Young Heart. I was listening to it on this cloudy July day, heart filled with this "fall feeling" and head filled with thoughts about the future. And bits of it intertwined with my own thoughts in ways they hadn't before.

           To share the beauty of this album, I'm just going to briefly discuss each track and what stood out to me. I encourage you, though, to wait for a rainy day, settle down, close your eyes, and let her emotions unfold - or listen to it while baking, as I like to.

1. The Witching Hour - Intro. This little intro is 50 seconds long, and the best piano piece to be described as "rippling" I have ever heard. It's serene, mysterious, and very gently intense.

2. Voyager. Although it's one of my favorite songs on this album, for a long time I felt I didn't understand the singer's situation.

Clouds move like paint
Changing in the sky
If the wind is on my side
I might leave tonight
I hate to disappoint you, but I've always been this way
And I know you need me here, but I know that I won't stay

No, I won't wait for you, I'm already gone
Like moonlight leaves with the dawn
I won't wait for you, the night's too long
I'm a voyager, and I voyage on
I'm a voyager, and I voyage on

Why would she be so willing to leave the person she loves behind?? What could necessitate such a separation? What kind of excuse is "I'm a voyager?" 

Now that I'm going through the process of choosing colleges far away from home and realizing I don't know how that will affect my relationships, but knowing it's still necessary for my growth - now I'm beginning to understand. 

3. Loneliness This is the first song I ever discovered from Birdy. According to Genius, Birdy has described it as "a love song to loneliness." Of course, it's not a straightforward love song - her struggle with loneliness is evident. 

My mind has been so loud, with no way to break out
With nowhere to be still
It's time to cut these ties, and watch our shadows fly
Let the dark flood in
Your hold has kept my heart in chains
For so long I've waited for it to break

Something in the air's got me feeling you're here again
And I was missing the dark without you near again
Watching the clock hand fall asleep on us
Oh, I've been losing my mind in these sweet dreams of loneliness

4. The Otherside Endlessly adventurous - a promise of forever love and encouragement for someone who's going through a hard time. In this song, there is assurance of recovery even if the relationship fails - "I'll see you on the other side."

Autumn days, the doors you face
They're never gone, you never cry
But if your bridge ever falls, if it does
If it does, I'll catch you, babe
I will
Autumn fires that blaze and burn
The shadow days, the red, the brown
They let you fall, they let you down
Let you down, that's the way I am

We could be weightless
Like birds in the night
Wherever we go
Set thе world on fire
We could be thе darkness
Breaking across the sky
If I lose you on the borderline
I'll see you on the other side

5. Surrender I didn't like this song very much at first. It felt slow and overly sentimental and plunky. But when I sat back and let the lyrics sink in, I realized it was a perfect tribute to the desperate desire for rest and love, numbed as it is by the plodding, aching business of life. I'll put all the lyrics here for you to read.

Strange, this wilderness inside
The heart drifts from hot to cold
You think it can't make up its mind
And suddenly it's always known
Suddenly it's always known

And if I could reach the northern lights
Maybe then I'd understand it all
Sometimes I try so hard to fight
When all I want to do is fall
Into the night
Into your arms
Surrender
Ooh-ooh

Delays on the District Line
Looking at pictures on my phone
I said I didn't miss you, but I lied
Told myself I let you go
Told myself I let you go

This song also follows perfectly from the story that began in "Voyager" as the singer travels away on a train, still wishing for her love.

6. Nobody Knows Me Like You Do Here I can say with confidence that I really don't like this song! Because I don't like songs that make me sad and don't have enough fancy instrumental trappings to make up for it!! This song is like a magic potion, a delicious tea that fills your heart and mind unapologetically with grief, but with a flavor so lovely it feels wrong not to finish it. The song's vividness is in its specificity - it easily creates a shadowed, tragic picture in the mind's eye.

Last night was the third time I've watched you leave
And though it's been five months, was like no time had been
Fought my tears in the dark as you drove away from me
'Cause nobody knows me like you do

You arrived in the evening light outside on the green
And I swore I'd be fine 'til I realized that you still love me
To see you standing there, I just felt relieved
'Cause nobody knows me like you do

And dark are my days now that I face them on my own
So long are the nights now that I'm sleeping here alone
And after all of this time, it's still just as hard to see you go
'Cause nobody knows me
Nobody knows me like you do

...

And I know that I decided we had different lives to lead
Not sure what it was I thought I'd found once I was free
But without you beside me, all I can see
Is that nobody knows me like you do

7. River Song Here the existential anguish from Surrender breaks through in a different fashion as Birdy personifies a river and asks for its wisdom. Its lack of humanity adds new weight to her question, "Do you understand how strange it is to be alive?" That's the kind of question we might feel foolish asking another human, and yet that is also the condition of each of us: trying to figure out why we are here and asking these questions at all. 

Time
Another season turns the page
Living in a kind of dark age
Could you light the way?
Life
Does the feeling ever die?
Can you understand how strange it is
To be alive?

Seen centuries come and go, is the future like the past?
Do we shine a temporary glow, or are we built to last?
Do you ever feel at times like it's all too fast?

8. Second Hand News This song adds a new brightness and sharpness to the album. It's another song grounded in the story of this breaking relationship, and highlighting the singer's desire to just get back to her love. She's desperate for him to understand who she truly is. 

You can take the things they say
As the bitter truth
Don't throw it all away
On second hand news

'Cause if I just let go
If my heart could choose
I would burn these bridges I've built
And find my way back to you
No, don't throw it all away
On second hand news

And as always the most heart-wrenching lyrics are those that put us in concrete reality: 

Crying silent tears in the next-door room
'Cause everybody's here but you
So I wrote you out this message
But I stopped myself from sending it off

The kind of thing I would do.

9. Deepest Lonely Another song about kinship with loneliness - with a stormier feel. This reminds me of the struggle to stay happy, productive, and focused on what I need to do - or of trying and failing to get to sleep. 

Oh, my deepest lonely
Why don't we waste another day
Starin' out my window in the mornin' rain?
Oh, my deepest lonely
They never listen anyway
In the witchin' hour, while the city sleeps, we're wide awake

10. Lighthouse A light, exciting, perfect love song, despite the sad lyrics. Its sweetness and lightness - shown through rollicking guitar and serenading strings - is refreshing after the previous chunk of heavy, sad songs. 

And when these stars rise and fall
And I can't find my way home
Will you be my lighthouse?
When I call out your name, show me the way
Will you be my lighthouse?
Will you shine out? Show me the way

11. Chopin Waltz in A Minor - Interlude ...She makes it sound so easy. 

But really, this was a good choice for an interlude. The Witching Hour was mystical - this feels domestic and refined. The album and Birdy's very persona veer between both. 

12. Evergreen. A central theme of this song is privacy, so I'll describe it tritely on surface level. A pastoral romantic fantasy - a tribute to infatuation - a flawlessly folksy love song. 

Nobody knows, my love
How long we've been this way
And ever if it rains, my love
Oh, there'll be hurricanes
And rivers will come rushing through the gates
But know that we'll land somewhere
Know that we'll have somewhere
'Til it all evaporates

There's a world out there
That would keep us apart
Let's stay here where
We're safe in the dark

13. Little Blue Another song about the consequences of losing love: desperately holding on to the sadness, or "little blue" as she calls it, because the memories are still so dear. I can't decide if this song feels endless or far too short. 

Little Blue finds me again
Creeps over my heart
Like a shadow on the hills
Little blue, you have me again
Breathless in the dark
Like trodden daffodils
Little Blue reminds me of the love I had that's gone
Little Blue, in you is where those memories live on
Don't leave too soon
Please, keep me close to you
Little Blue

14. Celestial Dancers This - this is a song I've listened to dozens of times, possibly my favorite from the album. In fact, this song most perfectly matches the "fall feeling" I described earlier. You'll have to listen to yourself to see - the piano, intricate ornamentations, wide-open vocals, harmonies, steady, bright, drums. And another reason I like this song is its subject. According to Genius, Birdy said, "This song is quite a spiritual song for me. When I’m writing—and I’ve felt this since I was little—I do feel a connection to something. This is about asking that force, or whatever it is, questions and hoping for answers." The singer covers the idea of one's calling and then looks up at the heavens for answers even as she is also lifted up into orbit, into a dance among the stars. I interpret this as how we catch glimpses of God when we create, because we are both imitating Him and also playing the part he gave us in the intricate dance of the world.

Some run wild
Trying to find a calling
Some give up too soon
For a fear of falling
Others never try
And don't know what they're missing
In the end
We arrive at the beginning

Here we are
Just floating with the moon and stars
Just waiting for something, a little spark
I don't know what it is, but when it comes
Mmm, I'll know it when it comes

Lost my head
In the heat of the summer
The sun burned red
In the heavens above us
Turned to the sky
Looking for answers
And I saw no reply
Only celestial dancers

15. New Moon I mentioned earlier how I've been trying to "establish good habits." This is a recurring theme of my life - constantly trying to fix myself and make myself more focused and productive and secure. The struggle is more vehement now that soon, my time for childlike play will be up and I'll have to start "adulting." This song perfectly encapsulates the (perhaps foolish) feeling of hope and determination to get over these habits. On this last listen, it pierced my heart deeper than ever before. 

Lately, I've been sliding back into my old ways
Giving all my precious time to rainy days
All the doors that were closed, they won't be anymore

'Cause tonight there's a new moon
Tonight there's a new moon
It'll fall into place
Tonight there's a new moon
Tonight there's a new moon
And it's all gonna change

16. Young Heart Finally the album winds to a close in this six-minute track. This song has the same things to say as Voyager, but it says them even more strongly, with hard-hitting mellow beginning and a chilling prechorus. The bridge takes on a gospel feel as the singer reflects on the crux of the matter: she's practically debilitated without her love, but knows she still has to leave. Nevertheless she resolves that her love for him will not falter. 

I have to say goodbye for now
It doesn't mean that I don't love you anymore
I'm still a young heart
There's so much I don't know
And I'm changing

And it's been on my mind some time
I found a way to never let it show
But it was too hard
I'm just a young heart
It's time that I let go

...

Told myself I was fine, I could keep holding on
Woah-ooh
Oh, I've tried, but there's nowhere to hide anymore
I can't stay where we are
I want to stay where we are

Goodbye, my love, no crying
Let's not leave each other like this
'Cause even though our hearts are breaking
And through everything that's changing
I'll keep on loving you, ooh-ooh
Loving you
Oh, I'll keep on loving you, ooh-ooh
Loving you
Oh, I'll keep on loving you

Here's the playlist of songs I discuss so you can follow along: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4YfPYDQidHk6-IavO3mceMtuQ5JDFgSL

~~~

6. Mothers and Fathers by Dom Fera

We found that everything we know
Was counting that the ground moves passionate and slow
We sung a couple honest parables of promise
Hearing words we all missed
That change how they all go
We chose a direction and we ran
We saw a way to bargain with everything we had
We sung a broken series of metaphors and theories
Screaming “Can you hear these?
Tell us we’re not mad”
Then the thunder and water was making us shout
“Guess we’re mothers and fathers, we’ll figure it out”
Stay in bed a bit more
We ain’t found some new shore
We froze in place like it was true
We knew the world had just changed but nothing on it moved
We sung our favorite questions that felt more like confessions
Dodging all the lessons
That we already knew
We fought the weather and the stars
We threatened every fortune that wasn’t in the cards
We sung about our gravestones, crossing different time-zones
People in our old phones
And not caring where they are
Then the thunder and water was making us shout
“Guess we’re mothers and fathers, we’ll figure it out”
Stay in bed a bit more
We ain’t found some new shore
And I, oh I’m trusting in an ancient thing
And I, I gotta be fine holding on a single string
Tied to everything
Tied to everything
We’ll mourn for everything we know
We’ll wonder if the sky moves passionate and slow
We’ll sing a song of leaving, laughing while we’re grieving
Happy to be breathing and certain that we’ll grow
Then thunder and water will make us all shout
“Guess we’re mothers and fathers, we’ll figure it out”
Stay in bed a bit more
We ain’t found some new shore
Oh no no oh

    Maybe it’s not so much love that’s expressed in this song as a wide-eyed acknowledgement and sympathy for what it means to be human and also to have lives to protect. It expresses the struggle of mortality: choosing trajectories, facing the limits of time and nature, making risks in a desperate dance with the future. It also focuses on the comfort and tension given to words:

We sung a broken series of metaphors and theories
Screaming “Can you hear these?
Tell us we’re not mad”
We sung our favorite questions that felt more like confessions
Dodging all the lessons
That we already knew

Throughout the song we see this “we,” which seems to be universal, singing in unison (both figuratively and literally) of their mistakes, heartaches, and resolutions.

This makes verse 5 all the more striking, where the singer becomes singular:

And I, oh I’m trusting in an ancient thing
And I, I gotta be fine holding on a single string
Tied to everything

The singer puts his hope in some “ancient thing” - given the title “Mothers and Fathers,” perhaps he means the pattern of life, love, birth, and death that has sustained humanity for all ages. Similarly, he holds onto a “single string” which is somehow connected to “everything” else - some person or principle that keeps him aligned with everything else in reality. This human is making his way not as a solitary individual, but as a member of the whole pulsing cosmos. If this song is about parenthood, as the title suggests, this interconnectedness is key to this endeavor of parenthood.

Pondering this brought to mind a similar idea I saw in the novel The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, where Ma consoles her pregnant daughter Rosasharn over the deathbed of her grandmother:

“When you’re young, Rosasharn, ever’thing that happens is a thing all by itself. It’s a lonely thing…You’re gonna have a baby, Rosasharn, and that’s sompin to you lonely and away. That’s gonna hurt you, an’ the hurt’ll be lonely hurt, an’ this here tent is alone in the worl’, Rosasharn…They’s a time of change, an’ when that comes, dyin’ is a piece of all dyin’, and bearin’ is a piece of all bearin’, an’ bearin’ an’ dyin’ is two pieces of the same thing. An’ then things ain’t lonely anymore” (Chapter XVIII).

7. Peace by Taylor Swift

Our coming-of-age has come and gone
Suddenly, this summer, it's clear
I never had the courage of my convictions
As long as danger is near
And it's just around the corner, darlin'
'Cause it lives in me
No, I could never give you peace
But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm
If your cascade, ocean wave blues come
All these people think love's for show
But I would die for you in secret
The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
Your integrity makes me seem small
You paint dreamscapes on the wall
I talk sh*t with my friends, it's like I'm wasting your honor
And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences
Sit with you in the trenches
Give you my wild, give you a child
Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other
Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother
Is it enough?
But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west
I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best
But the rain is always gonna come if you're standin' with me
But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm
If your cascade, ocean wave blues come
All these people think love's for show
But I would die for you in secret
The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Taylor Swift has buckets of love songs, but this is the one that got particularly stuck inside me. Part of the appeal is the musical arrangement: a high repeating drone, gentle guitar skirting around the melody, and erratically placed piano in the middle of the song. The mood is caught between calm, wistful, and hopeful - it’s both calm and tense, and the contrast somehow adds to the tension.

And the story here is also about tension. It is the way of being human that we can never give everything we want to to another. The speaker here loves the subject like family and is prepared to give her best, even to die for him in secret. At the same time, she insists - “I can never give you peace.” She would give him her “sunshine”, but the rain would “always” come nonetheless - she says that danger lives in her. No matter how much she gives, peace and safety will still be lacking, and we see in the second verse that even in comparing the two lovers’ character, she will still come up short. 

This song keeps asking the question, “If a relationship can’t provide peace, is it worth it?” Regardless of the answer, I think the singer’s willingness to even ask this question, and her admission of her limitations, further proves the love she has for this other person. She knows that by singing this song she could lose the relationship, but she sings it anyway. There is both honesty and love in this song, and the honesty adds to the love. 

8. Come What May by Taylor Armstrong and Sarah Juers

Even in an earthquake
Even in a hurricane
Even in a tidal wave
Iʼll stay
Even if a storm breaks
Even if the mountains shake
Even if thereʼs no rain
I wonʼt sway
Come what may
Iʼll love You 'til my dying day
Come what may
Iʼll love You 'til my dying day
Even if a flood came
Even if a famine took place
Even if thereʼs heartache
Iʼll say
Come what may
Iʼll love You 'til my dying day
Come what may
Iʼll love You 'til my dying day
Even in my old age
I wonʼt lose faith

This is an immensely calming, simple song, describing love that will persist through all the hardest circumstances. It appears to be addressed to God; at least, Genius Lyrics capitalizes the “You,” and the lyrics all describe hardships caused or allowed by God, which must then be suffered through. This is what makes the singer’s love count. 

But even though it makes less logical sense, I think that in spirit this song could also be from a parent towards a child. As well as the assurance of constant love, it has simple imagery, simple rhymes, and feels like the most soothing of lullabies.

~~~

Love could be
Saccharine
Jealous, flaming red,
Leaving you with dizzy dreams 
And groans upon your bed
Exploding all your guts in joy
Or freezing you in dread - 
But you could reach out to another
And fall into yourself instead,
Having not in mind her safety,
His dark fears, or her great pains,
Forgetting all their beauty
And sending out the spears of blame.
Could there be a surer way?

Love can seem
An electric dream,
But sometimes it could be
As small and steady as the rain
Dappling bare feet - 
Or large and close as a warm hillside
Or a deep, determined tree;
It can look like worried eyes,
Or putting pride to sleep.
It’s a placid pool; there’s a danger of
Just seeing your own face;
But once you’ve dared to truly care,
You’re in a hushed and steadier place.

~~~

And then I realized that I'm not sure it expresses all I was hoping to say - something about how emphasizing the emotional highs and lows of love (the way we do in modern music) makes songs more self-centered, and the value to be found in steady, toilsome love that looks at the other person and their needs, not at personal fulfillment, and how this love is both truer and more comforting. I hope you will let me know if the poem expressed that.

 For now, let’s move onto to the main substance of this post: a short list of songs I’ve found that explore love in this calmer, truer fashion, both romantic and not. These are songs that, listened to on a dim summer evening in my room, often evoke some kind of clinging pain that’s in the middle of longing and concern, mainly directed towards my friends. At the center of all types of love, I believe, not just romantic, is a emotion containing care, concern and wonder, and a desire not just for that person to be yours, but for them to be well. This emotion as a whole is lacking on most songs on the radio today, but I think I’ve found some strewn around in various places, so I want to share them with you.

 I’ll try to explain at times how the music, as well as the lyrics, gives the songs their effect, but I may run out of words to fully express it, so you’ll have to listen for yourself to really know what I mean. It seems a lot of my thoughts on this topic come down to not knowing what exactly to say, or how. 

This post is also be divided in half, so expect a part two hopefully coming soon.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4YfPYDQidHk6-IavO3mceMtuQ5JDFgSL Here are all the songs I will be talking about in this post!

1. Dusk by Alice Phoebe Lou

This is a delectable wisp of a song which, despite being romantic in its presentation, resonates with me just thinking about my friends whom I care for (and worry about). Using vocals processed to sound like forms cloaked in shadow, the singer begins

Oh she told me
She gets lonely
When the sky changes from day to night
That’s when her demons come, say “Hey”
Dusk is always harder for my baby.

Then the singer explains her answer: 

So I told her
Not to be afraid
That I’d think of her at that time of day

Then uses these thoughts as an excuse to reflect on her subject’s beauty:

So I think about when her eyes light up
The world, the whole wide world
And the world don’t matter 
When we’re looking at each other
Oh, she’s got this way of making you feel like
You’ve lived a thousand times and never gonna die
And she smiles illuminated by the strobe light
She smiles and everything will be alright

The singer’s love fluctuates between reflecting on the relationship they share and the unique beauty of her subject. The little details of the sky and the strobe light settles the scene so it doesn’t seem like our characters are just floating in a vacuum. This song captures a few fond phrases of affection, as light and lilting as dusk breezes, and makes them even more musically appealing with the syncopated keyboard, piano ornamentations, and clarinets.

2. Smithereens by Twenty One Pilots

This is a love song that TOP’s lead singer, Tyler Joseph, wrote for his wife Jenna. The lyrics are straightforward, with not too much to analyze: they express the singer’s willingness to step outside of his own introverted boundaries and give himself, his own body, completely for the sake of his love.

You know
I've always been collected, calm and chill
And you know
I never look for conflict for the thrill
But if I'm feeling
Someone stepping towards you, can't describe
Just what I'm feeling
For you, I'd go
Step to a dude much bigger than me
For you, I know
I would get messed up, weigh 153
For you
I would get beat to smithereens

The instrumental melodies float around contentedly like butterflies in a Disney movie, the gentle percussion holds the song steady and the bridge rings with boyish determination as he repeats, breaking the fourth wall a bit:

You know I had to do one
You know I had to do one
You know I had to do one on the record (For you)
You know I had to do one on the record for her like this 

3. The Graduate by The Arcadian Wild

This is a bluegrass-reminiscent song about growing up. It is not so much about the love of a specific relationship, but is about the love and empathy of a community.

At the beginning, the graduate - some youth entering adulthood - is simply being observed. The graduate is disillusioned from the grand dreams of the future he or she had when young. Suddenly trying to make their own way in the world, they discover their limitations, both within their heart and body.

When you were younger you dreamed of being tall
But you discovered growing up just leaves you feeling small
While you were sleeping everything changed at once
You woke in the morning, stepped into the stinging light of dawn
You are wandering through the wild
You are wondering if and when you’ll reach the other side
Weighed down by a heart of stone
Bound to a body of broken bones
Fragile and feeling alone
But the whole story hasn’t been told
When you were younger you saw all the world was yours
But you don’t have the same eyes and you cannot believe that anymore
You studied the pieces scattered around the room
Failing is fruitful, so long as we do not forget to move

Hope comes when the “you” turns to “we”:

We are wandering through the wild
We are wondering if and when we’ll reach the other side
Weighed down by our hearts of stone
Bound to these bodies of broken bones
We carry such similar loads
Turns out we are not alone
We could cling to comfort, content to run in place, frozen ‘cause we fear the cost
But how could we expect to find where we ought to go, unless we get a little lost?
We are wandering through the wild
We are wondering when, not if, we’ll reach the other side
We share a heart of gold
We are a body of broken bones
When were we ever alone?
Together we’ll make our way home 

The singers could be fellow graduates, or the graduate’s elders, who have experienced their own fears navigating life and are still learning as their life goes on. Either way, the lonely individuals have become one body finding their way together, comforting one another in hope.

4. My Blood by Twenty One Pilots

It’s easy to sing softly and warmly about forever being by your loved one’s side, but it’s a stronger and more desperate love that cries out in the midst of danger for the beloved to stay. 

It starts slow with ominous percussion and then gains light and momentum with synths that feel like they rub up against the fibers of my organs. Bass as determined as the singer keeps the song afloat. The lyrics, again, are pretty simple, but they’re made meaningful by the song’s sound and even the context of the album, Trench - an album which talks about darkness, death, doubt, and seeking escape. 

In this album I imagine that the two characters - likely brothers, as suggested by the music video - have already entered into darkness and conflict together and one calls out to the other, begging him not to leave, and also assuring him of his relentless loyalty.

When everyone you thought you knew
Deserts your fight, I'll go with you
You're facin' down a dark hall
I'll grab my light
And go with you, I'll go with you
...
Surrounded and up against a wall
I'll shred 'em all and go with you
When choices end, you must defend
I'll grab my bat
And go with you, I'll go with you
…
Stay with me, my blood, you don't need to run
Stay with me, no, you don't need to run
Stay with me, my blood, you don't need to run
If there comes a day
People posted up at the end of your driveway
They're callin' for your head and they're callin' for your name
I'll bomb down on 'em, I'm comin' through
Did they know I was grown with you?
If they're here to smoke, know I'll go with you
Just keep it outside, keep it outside, yeah
Stay with me, no, you don't need to run
…
(Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)
You don't need to run
…
If you find yourself in a lion's den
I'll jump right in and pull my pin
And go with you, I'll go with you
…
My blood, I'll go with you, yeah
Stay with me, no, you don't need to run
Stay with me, my blood, you don't need to run
…
Stay with me, no, you don't need to run
Stay with me, my blood

5. Seven by Taylor Swift

Before anything else I have to talk about the beautiful instrumentals of this song. In this song everything is rippling in and out of dark and light - the pillowy piano, the rollicking guitar, the background synths. Strings ground it and give it a classic feel, harmonies shimmer underneath the melody, glimpsed like stones under water. The vocals draw out hypnotically and transition with traditional Taylor-esque grace to pull us into the dizzy dreaminess of childhood. 

What all this does is set the stage for a plaintive love song for a childhood friend, and more broadly, the freedom of youth itself. The singer’s perspective changes from thinking of the past to reliving it by addressing her friend in the present tense. This expresses her enduring love for her friend bound up with her longing for the past.

She begins by remembering airy heights on a swing: 

Please picture me in the trees
I hit my peak at seven
Feet in the swing over the creek
I was too scared to jump in
But I, I was high in the sky
With Pennsylvania under me
Are there still beautiful things?

Then she reflects on her childhood friend, who enters the song so naturally that her presence is seamlessly woven with the singer’s general nostalgia:

Sweet tea in the summer
Cross your heart, won't tell no other
And though I can't recall your face
I still got love for you
Your braids like a pattern
Love you to the Moon and to Saturn
Passed down like folk songs
The love lasts so long

A little darkness enters the song when the singer, as a child, reflects on her friend’s family troubles, but innocently tries to resolve them with imaginary solutions.

And I've been meaning to tell you
I think your house is haunted
Your dad is always mad and that must be why
And I think you should come live with me
And we can be pirates
Then you won't have to cry
Or hide in the closet
And just like a folk song
Our love will be passed on

Looking back now, this must be still painful for the singer to process (and this makes sense given that many of Taylor’s other songs are about problematic men). At the same time she wishes for the days she could do as she liked and be untroubled. Ultimately, in a confusion across time and space, she wishes that her friend could join her and they could be free together, laughing and screaming and telling secrets once more.

Please picture me in the weeds
Before I learned civility
I used to scream ferociously
Any time I wanted
I, I
…
Pack your dolls and a sweater
We'll move to India forever
Passed down like folk songs
Our love lasts so long

~~~

More songs to come!

Here's my analysis of the lyrics on Left Behind! Again, this is entirely my own personal interpretation, and not necessarily what the artist intended.

You can read the lyrics here.

Lyrical Analysis of Left Behind by Theo Allred

Overall thoughts: The album centers around conflict which appears to be an inner conflict produced by introspection - I would characterize it as simply a general conflict with oneself, with an emphasis on morality (in Excuse and Airbreathing) and a general air of desperation or at least determination to head in some direction or another (in Rip Me Out, Perfect World, Everyday). The introspectiveness is heightened or perhaps confirmed by the amount of bizarre imagery, which must be either metaphorical or stream-of-consciousness and is most pronounced in Psycho No Cool. One of the most recurring (and understandable) images is body parts/fluids, including eyes, head, fingers, fingernails, throat, brain/mind, blood, saliva, spine, organs, ribcage. These images and the way they’re used adds a more graphic dimension to the sensory feel of the album that I mentioned above. Though this album seems very much about the mind and soul, that theme is completely inextricable from the physical aspects of existence.

Where I can understand them, the lyrics are vivid and straightforward enough to please my own poetic sensibilities (which isn’t always easy) - the only critique would be the length and phrasing of some of the lines in Excuse and Rip Me Out, which don’t fit perfectly into the music. I’m sure you’re aware of this, though, and could fix them if you wanted to. As they are, they at least add interest to the album (The character has little time to polish his style, he must focus on getting the point across). 

Track by Track:

Pathetic: The first lines here we get are pretty straightforward though their context isn’t clear. My first thought on hearing this was that “it’s so pathetic” could be referring to popular music today, since I knew the album would be experimental, a far cry from the common fare of the public (think The Outside by TØP). The muted “Well, luckily…” could even be seen as a confirmation of this, as if the songwriter is satisfied with his “unique” work. 

In light of the album’s themes, though, I would interpret these lyrics as a general dissatisfaction with oneself or with others, which then ties in well to “Excuse,” with its (less cynical) commentary on hypocrisy. It reminds me a bit of Ecclesiastes.. “There is nothing new under the sun.” 

As for the spoken statement at the end… if we conjectured that in this album the main character/speaker is battling a personified darkness/evilness within his own self (think Blurryface) (I’ll try to support this more later on), this statement could be an utterance of such a figure, expressing satisfaction with the distressed mental state of the main character, for lack of anything more specific. 

Excuse: Giving this song a quick listen, the premise seems straightforward: it’s about the hypocrisy evident in all of us, the excuses we all make, and based off the ending, our inherent flaws. 

But looking closer complicates this view! A new theme is introduced in the chorus: “Trying to understand why all roads lead to you/Let the world show me the truth/Discovery’s wonderful, even if it’s nothing new.” This notion of seeking truth is in the second chorus as well: “Let the world show me the truth/Discovery’s still painful, even if it’s nothing new,” right after he proclaims “who wants to be responsible for the truth?” The character is on some kind of intellectual journey towards an unidentified “you” and trusting in “the world” to show him the truth even though it seems no one wants to be responsible for it. The only way I can make sense of this is to point out that he is seeking a truth external to himself while refusing to act on the truth about himself (“Tell me I’m wrong and I probably won’t disagree/It’s all so I can be who I want to be”). I’m really not sure what the connection is, though. 

There’s another interesting line in the first verse: “As my mind tries to dissuade me so desperately/I’ll take it to the shed and shoot it with such glee.” If his mind represents his conscience, this could fit in with the hypocrisy theme, but his intention to kill his mind is also interesting considering he’s “trying to understand” and find “the truth” later on. (At this point I may be reading too much into it). 

Technique/writing:

-Starting the second chorus with “Everybody’s got an excuse” after “I’m looking for an excuse” is one of those great moments when the listener’s brain can fill in what’s coming, both because of the “excuse” mentioned in the first chorus and because “everybody’s got an excuse” is a straightforward/ordinary sounding phrase.

-About the ending: the buildup isn’t exactly eloquent, but once the mind has bypassed that these lines provoke genuine pondering

Other:

-Fun fact: originally misheard “my mind” as “mama” and was intrigued but confused

-I can’t help but point out that this song reminds me of “Holding Onto You,” firstly with the conflict between one and one’s mind and also with the presence of an ambiguous “you” being addressed in the chorus. 

Rip Me Out:

It would take too long, and be unfruitful, in my opinion, to try to interpret every one of these lyrics - for interpreted they must be, there is no way to explain them literally. Nor could I try to reconcile all the nuance there seems to be. First I’ll say that in general (this is more of a musical analysis): this song steadily narrows itself and pierces down, down into the depths of the character’s entire being without leaving anything untouched until falling into limp desperation in the bridge and then struggling to its feet like a tired monster afterwards - like Caliban from Shakespeare’s Tempest if it was his own self he was fighting against.

The strange activities detailed in the verses, with their intensity and physicality, have the feel of something from Dante’s Hell or Purgatory, or any self-abasing activity from a medieval text, but they seem less about punishment or penance and more about introspection: the thorough exploration and discovery of oneself which leads to abject dismay (in the chorus).

Also here’s a confession: I originally misheard “demise” as “deep mind” when hearing the Samuel-sung version of this song, and that mishearing carried over into the actual song, influencing my interpretation of it as “being trapped in one’s mind.” Now it seems it’s not just his mind the character’s trapped in, but his whole doomed self.

I don’t know what to do with the bridge, but if we go with my Blurryface-theory, this could be describing the character trying to destroy the dark parts of himself.

Favorite lines:

-”Pull out a chunk of red”

-“Let out a puff of every single fantasy in your head”

-”Wait until you can step outside the canyon of your eyes”

-”It’s such a lovely sight to finally grab some more loose ends”

Psycho No Cool:

Well, here’s a song that practically requires a glossary. These stream-of-consciousness lyrics are actually pretty fun to read and some of them seem strangely paired with the aggressiveness of the singing style. They ultimately describe repulsive imagery: “viral fingers cancerous sirloin” “soft and chewy poisonous freezing” but before that some of them are even pleasant: “everlasting afternoon sunbathe” or just fun: “creamy cheesecake compression shoegaze.” With mentions of morning and afternoon, bathtubs and doors, this almost evokes moving around the house engaging in daily routine, but is mainly consumed in dreamlike imagery. “As you grab your brain” is the most interesting lyric. It makes sense that it’s at the end, since the lyrics before that certainly aren’t very rationally ordered (as if by a mind/brain), but why was the character separated from their brain in the first place?

“Feeling nothing except ecstasy really just means feeling nothing” - also interesting that the most straightforward lyrics in the song are completely unintelligible. 

Airbreathing:

In substance, this song carries the same themes as “Excuse”. The character’s psyche has gone from dismay in Rip Me Out, to sedated confusion in Psycho No Cool, back to what we had in Excuse: straightforward statement of guilt, over bright piano motifs. Except that in this case the lyrics don’t get very far before being overtaken by something… else.

Given all its simplicity I want to say just how pleasing these lyrics are poetically, both with the rhymes: “day” and “way”, “find” and “justify” and “pride” and the repetition enforcing the very idea of “everyday.”

Perfect World:

My first question is, who is “he”????? Along with the soothing background melodies this song starts feeling like a lullaby, first preaching the absence, or confinement, of this mysterious “he” - whom I would interpret as the “darker self” character I’ve been theorizing about - and then describing… the character’s heart? Are we inside it? Is the character’s heart the one place we are free of the “darker self” or does this bloody imagery have another meaning?

In the next part of the song my mental image is overwhelmingly that of a massive cathedral. The strings mount ever up and up to sublime heights, sometimes bright as “light filters through” Gothic windows and sometimes discordant as if this is all being viewed in a nightmare, images blurring and overlapping. The singer stands in the middle of the cathedral and his voice is eclipsed by the blinding, rushing light into soft croonings.

Finally a challenging, almost crass pronouncement echoes through the hall, then sputters out. I still don’t know what to make of this. 

Everyday:

The mental image I get from this song is that of an epic hero, someone famed, feared, and supernaturally powerful - trees burn to light his way, “they” come out to play once he’s not there, and he “grabs onto the sky” and “flies away.” The song also includes images from earlier in the album: eyes (Pathetic), wounds (Rip Me Out), a brain which is apparently being handled (Psycho No Cool), and the command for some kind of violence to be inflicted on one’s face (Perfect World). This hero obviously epitomizes the same desperation shown in Rip Me Out, and so maybe this is just another perspective on the “main character.”

Whatever precisely is going on I don’t know, but it ends up with conflict again, and I’m going to theorize it’s between the “main character” and this “darker self” I’ve been conjecturing about: first we have “Get your hands off of my brain.” This suggests that the darker self has been maintaining influence over the main character’s brain, and it’s time for that to end. Then, “you disgust me with your smiling face.” This reminds me heavily of “Excuse” and “Airbreathing” where evil is covered up with excuses and with catchy melodies. It’s time for the hypocrisy to end, too. The last few lines of the whole album are violent and definitely memorable. “So take your fingernails, rip off my face. Pour the blood into the rain.” I’m not sure who’s speaking, or if there’s a difference at this point. But let’s assume that now, the darker self is finally admitting defeat. The hypocritical “smiling face” is being stripped away. 

You can listen to the album here! Part 2 of this review examines the lyrics.

Left Behind by Theo Allred

Overall thoughts: 

Soul of the album: This album seems to be inhabited by various characters and some kind of story lurking underneath it all. There’s the “you” who’s addressed, a “he” referenced in the last two tracks, and the vocal line, which I just think of as the Voice (your voice of course, but it takes on a very definite character the whole time). Many of the melodies that wander about the songs don’t seem to work together, giving the impression that this album is full of separate entities each intent on their own errand, but the Voice is very intent on all the personal and mental conflicts occuring within him and between the other characters. 

The Voice speaks not with the music but through it (like through a cracked glass), distinct, formidable, sassy, obviously violent, overbearing and almost patronizing, thrusting aside any vulnerability with its very outspokenness. It is like the Wizard of Oz hidden behind the curtain, embodying himself to Dorothy and her comrades as a huge, disconnected head and a booming voice. 

Musical things:

Many of the sounds you use are very sensory. I can almost feel them rubbing against my skin or inside my throat. I know you’re not looking for criticism, so you can ignore this, but as far as personal preference goes, I would initially have preferred less variety of instrumental sound within one album and actually more variety with the vocal tone (i.e. occasionally singing softly or gently). However my goal is not to make value statements, and as I thought about the overall impression of the album, those things I disliked may help to contribute to the feel of the conflicts + characters that I got from the album.

As far as favorites go, Psycho No Cool and Airbreathing aren’t doing much for me so far, but I enjoy all the other ones. Rip Me Out feels like the cleanest and also the most important. Everyday is a really good conclusion and Pathetic a really good opener. If one was to choose singles for the album I’d choose Excuse and Rip Me Out. 

Track by track: 

-Pathetic: I went on a walk on a dark spooky night (with some nice starlight, and also some aggressive ghostly fireflies), and a voice started yelling at me through a pipe deep in the ground.

-Excuse: Starts out refreshingly comprehensible after the last song. Has a lot of normal, pleasant elements: catchy piano riffs, drums (with a solo!!) and a normal melody with a fun-to-sing-to chorus and also a lyrical punchline. The weirdest part is of course the jarring noise on the chorus, which cloaks the singer’s voice in a haze. 

-Rip Me Out: Feels sharp and intriguing from the very beginning. The lyrics overall are a bit hard to hear, but they’ve got me interested (who is this with a “fleshy spine”, and what is its significance??).

Now, as it happens, a while ago Chuck actually sent me a clip of an earlier version of this where Samuel sang the chorus. Comparing them now, I noticed that Samuel’s version was somehow easier for me to connect to - the voice was clearer and the lack of instruments made room for those high subtle notes in the background (which for me somehow cinch the poignancy, if that is the right word, of it - I like small touches like that). In the final version I can hear the scratchy quality of the notes and the unhinged vocal style and I can observe, objectively, that the character is undergoing ravaging despair and desperation, but it didn’t touch me as much subjectively like the first one did - it didn’t make empathy flutter in my stomach. At first I thought this was a case for the first version being “better” - 

Then I realized that the more processed and obscured feel of the final version adheres with the technical theme of the chorus - a feeling of being trapped, wanting escape. So there’s straightforward emotional impact on one hand, and (possibly?) a more “correct” expression on the other. The latter also fits better with the character of the rest of the album.

The lyrics for this chorus are great, as well as the melody. “Spare me from what I once called mine…..” The general theme as far as I can tell from the chorus - being trapped in one’s head - reminds me of TØP’s Vessel, and that’s always a good thing for me…

-Low Key: I feel like I’m crouched in the savannah to observe wildlife. The song starts with a heartbeat - my own, or the heartbeat of some creature in the brush near me I don’t realize is there. One or two more sounds drop in and they are bugs whirring constantly in the grass around me. The melodies that appear each on a different instrument and then leave - that far-off warble, that husky percussive sound - are the souls of the wild animals that I see, viewed from a far distance. 

-Psycho No Cool:  Here the Voice has something to say but keeps getting crinkled away by static while precocious pianos keep repeating their dance. At the end an oddly comforting melody comes in out of nowhere. 

-Airbreathing: A reasonably coherent, catchy song (though still as tired and tortured as the Voice usually is) tries to start, but is quickly overtaken and corrupted by a parasite, a flying, buzzing virus (which doesn’t make sense, but what does in the world of this album?), specifically the kind that latches onto the host and alters its DNA so the host starts producing baby viruses, except that with this one, all the baby viruses are so different in color and size from one another that by the end, (listening to this the first time) I can’t remember what the mother virus was like, much less the original song.

-Discovery: Sounds like video game music for soaring above green hills and silent purple cliffs. Probably not soaring for fun, but scouting for something… the drums and screechy synth give a connotation of war. 

-Perfect World: Calming in the way Kid A is calming… “Watch the saliva move into place” is so absurd that I almost like it. 

-Everyday: This is the final battle and conclusion of whatever crazy relationships (between the voice, “you”, and “he,” and also apparently “they”) have been going on throughout the album. The thick, hazy arrangement and mention of trees, clouds, rain, climbing(?)/sky and plains finalizes for me the landscapes I’ve been visualizing throughout: we’re in a dripping forest near the cliffs in “Discovery” and the plains of “Low Key.”   At the end a helicopter flies away… so I suppose this is the part where someone gets “left behind?” 

~~~

On a dark Friday afternoon some weeks ago I was scrolling through YouTube, looking for something interesting, when I was suddenly splashed by spray from a mighty waterfall - the waterfall being all of the greatest, most searing, most soul-embracing, heart-sundering music that’s ever been breathed, and the spray being Yebba. 

I first knew about Yebba because an artist I’m interested in, Jacob Collier, used a clip of her singing “Bridge Over Troubled Water” in his arrangement of that song. He also claimed that she was one of the “greatest vocalists who are living on this planet right now” - along with the other two features on the song, Tori Kelly and John Legend. With this in mind I eventually found Yebba’s individual performance, and listened to it a couple times in interest.

On that Friday I think I was listening to Jacob Collier when I thought, why not watch that clip again? I wasn’t sure if I liked it - her voice didn’t appeal to me when I heard Jacob’s version, especially put in the context of his rather swollen harmonies, but the performance was at least impressive. So I clicked on it for about the third time, a grainy, minute-long clip of an ordinary-looking woman sitting on a couch.

For the first time I realized how skillful she was. Yebba sang  unashamedly, with a husky voice precise on each note. She paused between phrases as if thinking what next to say, then let runs issue invisibly from her mouth as automatic as walking. I was put off at first by the quality she allowed into her voice - strained and croaky, spread vowels with notes thunking off the roof of her mouth. But as I’d learn, that was just the flavor of her singing. It wasn’t sour, but tangy like chewy pulled pork, hard on the mouth but ultimately filling. Overall, the power of her performance could not be denied. Every note was utterly effortless and utterly intentional. 

In the next clip I watched, she sang “Great Is Thy Faithfulness,” seemingly in some dingy bathroom. Singing as if learning it for the first time, she let deep tones, elaborate ornamentations, aggressive, almost bestial twang, mumbling, and vibrato all blend and flow, meanwhile tilting her head conversationally in all directions as if truly communing with the omnipresent God. Artistry beamed out of her like a halo, and I had to keep going. 

Now the algorithm led me to a performance of her song “My Mind” at SoFar Sounds. I would advise all spectators to quiet their hearts and curl up in their coziest blankets for this one. It is not a video to be taken lightly.

Here the mysterious Yebba is no longer lounging in some corner of the house singing to herself, but stands before us dressed up and unanonymous, a guitarist at her side. As he begins to play, the notes enclose our mental state and mellow our mood, readying us for the song, and within it, the story, that is to come. 

The lyrics are simple and straightforward. They are from the perspective of a woman who finds out her man has been cheating on her, and is ravaged with anguish as a result. During the chorus, she sings, “I’m about to lose my mind/I think about you all the time.” During the bridge, she asks “How could you do this to me?” and expresses a contradictory defiance, proclaiming “No way, no way, she won’t take you away from me/I sure won’t stay, but I’ll be damned if I ever leave.” The song’s biography on Genius Lyrics tries to explain: “While she knows she cannot live with her significant other’s betrayal, she refuses to let the other person win.” 

I’ve never been through an experience like the one detailed in this song, and here is where the power of the performance came in, what left me enflamed with wonder. Yebba’s performance cut through me to what fears and anguishes and ponderings I do have, about love and despair and femininity and mental unraveling, and with simple lyrics and a powerful voice knit a story between me and herself that I could “feel” perfectly. It was empathy that she created in me with that performance, empathy for whoever had undergone such an experience and for whom those lyrics would be true. 

It’s one thing for a song to cause emotion. All good songs do that, all the time, and the emotion might be bright and happy, or a deeper, darker emotion like the ones in “My Mind,” but this does not necessarily create empathy. What made this song empathetic was how it seemed to encapsulate the very pinnacle of emotion, and then communicate it directly to me, like a gift in a package or a message in a bottle. It accomplished this as well as simply causing emotion - sparking it in me with an accidental friction. To be made to feel a direct connection to a distinct person - not Yebba herself necessarily, but the character embodied in the song - has been a rare happening for me, not only in music but in reading as well. 

Although my specific reaction was partly incidental - as the performance seemed to get through to me just as I was at that moment - it had definite causes in Yebba’s techniques. The roughness of her voice contributes well to the ache of the song - she cuts off passages raw as if they’re a desperate sob - some runs sound like perfectly on-key groans. In a way I’m not sure how to explain, she’ll pull her voice into different registers and volumes for emphasis (for example, in “you say you love me but I know it’s a lie) - this is another thing that especially interested me, as I’ve taken interest lately in the different regions of the voice. Finally, she lets every facial expression and tilt of the head be consumed in the emotion, even accentuating her words with hand gestures.

Here we reach another thing that struck me about Yebba. During the performance, she appears consumed by the song in every way, and this is what communicates the song’s essence so strongly to the audience. Yet I don’t find myself assuming that she wrote the song based on any personal experience. Such a question seems quite irrelevant when listening to it, because the song so intrusively demands my empathy for whoever’s story might be. This seems like a paradox: how is the performance so natural, as if she’s truly expressing the song in every way she can, and yet it’s so much more than her? She leaves me utterly impressed with her skill as a singer, and yet the focus is not on her - she is not a spectacle. She is more like a prism shining through with light. She tells a larger story than herself. 

The writer Madeleine L’Engle says this of the creator: “The artist is a servant who is willing to be a birthgiver. In a very real sense the artist (male or female) should be like Mary who, when the angel told her that she was to bear the Messiah, was obedient to the command… I believe that each work of art, whether it is a work of great genius, or something very small, comes to the artist and says, ‘Here I am. Enflesh me. Give birth to me.’ And the artist either says, ‘My soul doth magnify the Lord,’ and willingly becomes the bearer of the work, or refuses; but the obedient response is not necessarily a conscious one, and not everyone has the humble, courageous obedience of Mary” (Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art 18). From my experience, this idea well applies to Yebba. She takes on the role of bringing into being something much greater than herself, an expression of a world of stories that then becomes a relevant story for the listener  - yet the performance is still flavored with her, just as children resemble their mothers, and would not have their unique being without them. 

By now I was thoroughly excited about Yebba, and went on to watch several more videos, which are all contained in the playlist I’m linking at the top. Each one impressed me further with her personality and skill. The Tiny Desk Concert performance of “Stand” especially reinforced my impression of the ease with which she sings - amidst instrumentals as colorful as a summer hike in the mountains, she seems to make light with her voice, commanding the song effortlessly. She sings each word like it’s special, as naturally as if she is made of music - no fear, no self-consciousness, only an inherent ability well-harnessed.

The last song I wanted to mention of hers is my personal favorite, the last song that I experienced on that day: October Sky. Yebba wrote this song about her mother, who committed suicide just a week or so after the “My Mind” performance, and as a result inspired multiple songs in Yebba’s discography from then on. This is another experience that I can’t relate to personally, and in this song the emotion of the story is indeed more subdued behind gentle lyrics and steady guitar which belie the story’s sadness and themes of instability. 

This track is not heartrending like “My Mind,” but equally valuable in its own way. It’s musically refreshing: it uses 12 different chords, melodies climbing up and down, one or two picking styles which add momentum to the song, and a different mood for each section of the song. Emotionally, it is technically mournful, but ends up being calming or energizing as the moment requires - a pretty tonic for apathy or wistfulness. I’ve let myself listen to this song many times over, (unlike “My Mind” which I’ve been scared to touch too often), and its quiet power hasn’t faded.

I’m not sure why Yebba isn’t more well known - maybe her discography is not yet extensive enough, or her style isn’t flashy enough for most of the public to take notice. She leaves me wondering what “gems” of musicianship are still left hidden from my sight, and specifically, what songs I will find that evoke the same empathy I was given from “My Mind,” or that ooze the same ease as “Stand” or “October Sky.” With all the multitude of music nowadays, especially if you’re trying to be a music connoisseur, it’s easy to go for what’s safe and easy to listen to, or easily comprehensible, but I must not forget that it’s the special power of art to bring us beyond what we already know, to connect us to stories we don’t yet know, to see the creative skill of God expressed in new ways through His creatures, such as through the unforced power and beauty of singers like Yebba. 

I really don’t know, but sometimes my own personal taste and enthusiasm compels me to make a claim as if I did. This is how I feel about the song “Next Semester” by Twenty One Pilots. If I had to describe my take on it quickly, I’d say it was "solid, perfect." I can’t really back that claim up, but right here, right now I’ll at least try to describe what I love about it. Specifically, I will be describing what makes this song a relatable narrative told vividly and with emotional complexity. 

Twenty One Pilots is a band well known to my generation. Comprised of singer Tyler Joseph and drummer Josh Dun, they've been making music since the mid-‘00s and are most easily classified as alternative rock, though plenty argue they don’t truly fit into one genre. As far as I can see, they’re most distinctive for their rap, drums, ukulele, and poetic lyrics. Their music expresses raw and dark emotion without restraint, but never veers into the resentful or vulgar. 

Another interesting feature of Twenty One Pilots is the storyline that began to emerge around their albums. I’m not an expert on the lore yet and I don’t plan to talk about it on this blog, but their albums from “Blurryface” to the present tie to a fascinating story with a dystopian setting and a mysterious protagonist named Clancy. I mention this because the song I’m going to discuss is from their forthcoming album, named Clancy, which will likely be their final album and is said to complete the storyline begun in Blurryface. 

“Next Semester”, released on March 27th, is the second song released from this album so far. The first single and first track of the album, “Overcompensate”, was enjoyable and will make a great intro track, but “Next Semester” is a completely solid song on its own, to my mind. Now let’s get into it properly.

(DISCLAIMER: I am not an expert at music theory or at identifying instruments so I will be describing this in creative and unofficial ways).

~~~

Jolting drums and bass start the song, a soft melody muttered over them. Soon the drums get their footing and the song has launched itself. Quickly we are surrounded by punky electric guitars, background vocals that give a sense of space and Tyler Joseph yelling out short phrases:

Stand up straight now
Can’t break down
Graduate now

These opening lyrics express straightforward desperation with memorable phrases and the added advantage of rhyme. “Graduate now” puts the song in the context of school and hits home especially for young people around my age who will soon be making their way out into the world.  

We transition into the next part of the verse with

I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be here

 - more direct simplicity with the drums shifting rhythm meanwhile to increase momentum. Next we get 

It’s a taste test
Of what I hate less

These lyrics are less ordinary than the others, bringing typical enigmatic Twenty One Pilots flavor, but it’s clear the singer of this song feels that the only choices he has to make - choices we’ll see in the chorus - are between hateful options. He must choose a lesser evil of all the evils that seem to surround him.

Can you die of anxiousness?
I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be here
What’s about to happen? What’s about to happen?

Before the chorus we get a reiteration of “I don’t want to be here” and two questions, one poignant and one, yelled, more disconcerting - “What’s about to happen?” - bringing us abruptly out of his self-reflection and into the present moment of the story. 

The stage is set for our character: Cracking under pressure, desperate for escape, and also… mysteriously… facing some event with terror and maybe anticipation. Now it's time for the chorus.

Without this chorus I wouldn’t have called this song perfect. It's by far my favorite part of the song. Musically and lyrically it draws us out of the frenzied verse into a subtle, still driving, climactic image distinctive enough to stay imprinted in the mind. Now we finally get to see the speaker’s current predicament.

I remember, I remember certain things
What I was wearing, the yellow dashes in the street
I prayed those lights would take me home
Then I heard, “Hey kid, get out of the road!”

According to the most common and most likely interpretations of this song, the speaker is attempting a way out from his troubles by standing in the road waiting for a car to run over him - death is what he's choosing. We aren’t told this outright but see what’s important to him in his mind - his clothes, irrationally, the yellow dashes, the headlights of the car, and the driver shouting at him. The guitars after the verse calm suddenly as he sings “I remember,” not telling us at first what he remembers but piquing our interest by easing into it. When he reaches “I prayed” the guitars have built up energy and the words are drawn out, each one emphasized, before the moment is suddenly broken by the concerned driver’s call - sung with Tyler Joseph’s typical crunchy-sounding scream.

The second verse jolts us back into the previous upbeat mood, this time describing the singer’s physical sensations and repeating his desperation from earlier in the song.

I don’t wanna be here, I don’t wanna be here

Can’t feel my legs
I might suffocate
There’s a pressure in my chest
I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be here
What’s about to happen? What’s about to happen?

These descriptions are more generic and almost add an element of humor with their possible hyperbole - this seems strange considering the subject matter, but the youthful exuberance of this song’s verses already bely its dark themes - and this is another common attribute of Twenty One Pilot’s songs, as acknowledged in “Not Today” from Blurryface. Musically the drums step back a bit to give variety and give Tyler’s voice some space. 

We are quickly carried on a wave of emotion back to the chorus to relive our central scene of the narrative. After the next chorus we receive a twist.

Now the plaintiveness that has been lurking underneath the surface is given breath with some melodic “ohhs”. They have a pulled-back intensity that lets the drums shine and gives the impression of a chorus surrounding our singer, supporting him with their words -  for along come some new lyrics, with a new message:

Can’t change what you’ve done
Start fresh next semester

“Can’t change what you’ve done” was unclear to me at first, but I think it must be referring to mistakes from the singer’s past that contributed to his anxiety and his wish to end his life. It’s an interesting parallel, too, to “Can’t break down” from earlier. And it is now, as the song steps back and lets itself take on a melancholy feel, that redemption comes - “start fresh next semester”. Here is our title, finally, and here is our hope. The singer accepts what he has done and is beginning to see he can move on.

We quickly plunge back into the chorus, our familiar central scene, with a new outlook on it this time - hopeful and accepting rather than terrified. This shift is also given justification through some new details we learn. The song returns to the plaintive “ohhs,” this time with Tyler screaming narration behind them:

And then he slowed down
And rolled down his window
And he said
“Can’t change what you’ve done
Start fresh next semester”

The new lyrics from before are now revealed to be the voice of the driver by whom the singer wished to be killed. It is he who offered this message of hope. I appreciate that this detail was added after the hopeful lyrics had already been introduced. It gives the impression of revelation so overwhelming that its substance is processed before the mundane circumstances of its being revealed. The message is so shocking that it outshines the messenger. 

So much has passed through the singer’s heart and brain already, but the song is not done. It’s time to cool off, for the adrenaline to fade. As the words “start fresh next semester” echo, the wild drums and rock guitars hush to be replaced by warm, close, ukulele chords. Tyler sings calmly, perhaps tiredly: 

It’s a taste test of what I hate less
I don’t want to be here
Start fresh with a new year.

(Oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh)

(Oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh)

Can’t change what you’ve done
Start fresh next semester.

Now the singer reprises lyrics from earlier in the song but also phrases the song’s themes anew with a simple rhyme: “I don’t want to be here/Start fresh with a new year.” Not all negative emotion has faded. Frustration still remains in the singer’s life, but he has been calmed by unexpected hope. He will not try to take his life again, because there’s always next semester.

~~~

If any friends or relations of mine wonder why I'm muttering "I remember" or "I don't want to be here" with frenzied angst under my breath - now you know. I haven't gone through all the same experiences as the character of this song, but with its storytelling, flavorful melodies and emphatic (but tasteful) beat, this song has captured affections to be one of my very top Twenty One Pilots songs (and therefore, one of my favorite songs ever). 

To revisit my thesis, I say this song is relatable for its use of common phrases and universal experiences, a narrative for its progression from despair to hope, brought about by specific events and characters, vivid for its lyrical details and passionate sound, and emotionally complex for its layering and progression of moods - frenzied, anxious, desperate, frightened, plaintive, calm, relieved, with hints of humor and theatrics. Is it perfect? I still don't know - but it has a complexity and a meaningfulness to it that can't be easily created or easily found.

I spoke in that last post about how I’ve always been one to surround myself with books. The same could be said for music. Coming from a musical family, going to a school that highly values music, and having musical friends has primed me for an interest in this essential aspect of culture. 

My relationship with music over the years is something I can perhaps discuss another time. For now the relevant point is how I’ve come to think about it. As my intellectual curiosity has augmented over time, music has become particularly fascinating. Its diversity - its impossibility to fully rationalize - its importance to culture and its pervasiveness in modern Western culture. Music is a puzzle to engage both the mind and emotions, and while its philosophical mysteries are not for everyone, its relevance is. 

Throughout my listening life and thinking life several main topics have sparked my curiosity. They are:

-Objectivity of music. Musical choice is mostly regarded as a question of personal taste nowadays. But something in me refuses to believe that all music is created equal - and I think most people, in their heart of hearts, would agree with this. After all, if Truth and Goodness are objective, why not Beauty? So my first question is, what determines the quality of music and how are we to find it? What are the different standards by which we can evaluate and discuss music? I’m open to there being many or broad answers to this question.

-Role of music. Music surrounds us in our present day - what is God’s purpose for music in our culture? What is its role traditionally, and has that role changed? Are we allowed to determine some of music’s role?

-Definition of music. What’s a good solid definition of music? This question is probably more easily answered than the others, but with all the different existing genres nowadays (rap for example), people still get hung up on it.

-Accessibility of music. This is related to the question about the role of music, and is specifically concerned with our present culture that has wide access to the internet. What is the effect of having so much music available to us? Does it at all degrade its value?

These are questions I expect to be pondering my entire life, perhaps without ever finding a definite answer. So what will I be doing here and now, on this blog? I have three directives planned:

-Analyzing music to explain why it has the effect it does. This will be both a self-reflective experience (why do I like the songs that I do?) and also an attempt to describe music creatively and objectively.

-Presenting music that has given me creative inspiration, as the ethos of this blog implies. 

-Sharing insights on the answers to my questions, if and as I find them. 

I will warn that my musical tastes are slightly eclectic and not necessarily sophisticated. I try to avoid any music that feels like it’s inundating my mind with immorality or unwholesome frivolity (I avoid explicit music as a general rule), but I let myself explore pretty freely within those boundaries - not that I always choose to engage this freedom. I haven’t found anyone whose tastes perfectly overlap with mine, so whatever music I write about might not be what you are used to.

I will also warn that although I know some basic music theory, and am a musician, I am not a technical expert, nor is music my main gift in life. I can’t navigate music the same way I can navigate writing and literature, but I can observe it as an awed spectator and grateful participant. I am very much an amateur - bearing in mind not just the connotation of possible ineptitude, but also the Latin root of the word, “amator”, meaning “lover.”

Who knows what I shall encounter in the big wide world of music? I am excited for this intellectual journey.

~~~

Claims to ponder:

It’s not a song till it touches your heart/ It’s not a song till it tears you apart/After what’s left of what’s right and what’s wrong,/Till it gets through to you,/It’s not a song. -From "It’s Not A Song" by Amy Grant

Music is a world within itself/With a language we all understand…. -From "Sir Duke" by Stevie Wonder