music🦖rex #36
100 albums from 2021
Hello everyone, welcome to a special edition of music🦖rex and the last of my year-end lists! I spent most of December and January catching up with some 2021 albums that I missed and/or haven’t listened to in a while. I wanted to give each enough time to sit with me to properly come up with an end-of-the-year ranking. It was really difficult! There are so many more albums which I haven’t heard, or given enough time. In the end, this list is a snapshot of where I stand at this point in time. Even if the ranking is very much subject to change, I hope that you still check these out (and even those outside of the top 10, which you will find in the playlist) because plenty of high-quality albums came out last year! Those who say otherwise just don’t know where to look.
10. Heaven’s Just a Flight - Caroline Kingsbury
One moment, you’re entering a long and dark tunnel. The next, you’re coming out to a boulevard filled with neon lights, passion, and nostalgia. That’s how the first two tracks of Heaven’s Just a Flight set the tone for the rest of the album. The production is reminiscent of old 80s film soundtracks, neither missing a beat nor failing to reach grandiosity. The brightly-lit avenues are not without their dark sidestreets; Kingsbury doesn’t shy away from writing darker and more somber themes to contrast the extravagant production that envelops the words. However, the powerful amalgamation of production, lyrics, and Kingsbury’s commanding voice gives this album immense staying power. Just by looking at the artwork, I can already hear the album behind it - a glorious all-around package.
9. No Place - Danielle Durack
No Place is an album that is drenched in emotional heartache, but also self-awareness. Danielle Durack writes songs about relationships that didn’t work out, mostly from an introspective point of view. On “There Goes My Heart”, she explains to us how she’s coping: “But despite all my longing, I'm still seeing clearly / The first time in years I can actually put myself first / And the hurting is teaching me something / I'm sure, oh, I'm sure.” Each song gives you a hard glimpse into an event on her emotional journey. It’s like listening to a friend tell stories about what they’ve gone through, complete with their own personal assessment of where that led them. Because you were there for them, it feels reassuring to know that they’ll also be there for you—and that’s what listening to No Place is for me.
8. Draw Down the Moon - Foxing
Foxing makes music that I feel the world needs to hear. Ever since I first listened to them on 2018’s Nearer My God, I’ve been drawn towards their dark and compelling sound. When the first single for Draw Down the Moon was released, it felt like they were going in the same direction. “Speak With the Dead” contains that same compelling catharsis spread over a 7-minute adventure. But when the other singles and eventually, the rest of the album came out, the sound turned out to be much brighter and more arena-friendly. On paper, it looks like a move that shouldn’t turn out well, but Draw Down the Moon defies this expectation to the greatest extent. Each song is an earworm, and listening to each one feels as important as ever. Foxing can make songs about crippling debt (”Go Down Together”) and homesickness (”Bialystok”) catchy enough to sing and jump your heart out to. Not everyone will get it, but I’m really happy I did.
7. SUP - Super American
On their bandcamp, Super American sum up SUP with this mantra - “life is a goddamn incredible miracle, so why do we have to feel so scared and shitty all the time?” SUP boasts a 25.5 minute runtime, and fills each moment with the catchiest hooks and blissful pop punk. This is one of the albums that I could play over and over again, with each listen feeling as fresh as the last. If you asked me a year ago, I wouldn’t have predicted that the lyrics to my favorite songs of an album would be, “hashtag no regrets” and “how big is your brain?” It may come off as funny, but it’s used in a way that brings your guard down, leading you into a shared vulnerability—to face your fears and appreciate life with one other.
6. The Dance - NATL PARK SRVC
Even the friend who recommended this album to me doesn’t remember how he found it. With only 465 monthly listeners on Spotify, listening to NATL PARK SRVC feels like finding the first block of diamonds in Minecraft. They don’t even have a profile on Genius! But the music they make feels on par with that of Ra Ra Riot, or maybe even the distant Broken Social Scene extended universe. The horns and strings behind tracks like my favorite, “The Deadline”, or “The Sharks”, showcase the masterful production of the album. It’s incredibly consistent track-to-track, and immersive in its sound and momentum. If you want to appreciate something most people have never even heard of, look no further.
5. Illusory Walls - The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die
For The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die (TWIABP), the band’s mantra is their name. Across their past work, they have told stories and poetry interpreting this in many ways. With each new release comes new ideas, new art, and new sonic horizons. Illusory Walls can be divided into two parts: the first 35 minutes comprised of 9 songs, and the last 35 minutes comprised of 2 songs.
The first half is led by the boisterous lead single, “Queen Sophie for President”, which allows us to dive headfirst into the depths of the album, where heavier and darker sounds are more prevalent. This half can stand well on its own, and would be a good album in itself. But it’s the last 2 songs that turn Illusory Walls from a good album into a great and possibly transcendental one. We begin with “Infinite Josh”, a 15-minute long heavyweight, the gist of which can be seen in these next 2 sets of lyrics: "Our dreams get drowned in a river of present needs / The years float by like fallen leaves,” and “At least it's life, at least for a while / It's a delicate dance.” On “Infinite Josh”, we see our lives flash before us; the way we need to balance everything while having to compromise with some of our greatest dreams. It’s here where TWIABP makes us feel really seen, if only to lead us into the behemoth of an album closer, the almost 20-minute long “Fewer Afraid”. It begins with spoken word and a few verses that touch on how terrible a place the world can be. But when the song reaches the 12-minute mark, the tone begins to shift, and at 13-minutes, you hear these words - “It seems the last forty minutes were spent leading up to this.”
”You cry at the news, I just turn it off / They say there's nothing we can do and it never stops
You believe in a god watching over / I think the world's fucked up and brutal /
Senseless violence with no guiding light / I can't live like this, but I'm not ready to die”
This is my favorite part of the entire album: despite all these terrible things going on in the world, we do our best to reconcile that with living with and for one another. This back and forth goes on for a while until TWIABP closes it out with the most poignant words of life-affirming reassurance after all our collective realizations.
“The world is a beautiful place, but we have to make it that way
Whenever you find home, we'll make it more than just a shelter
If everyone belongs there, it will hold us all together
If you're afraid to die, then so am I”
4. GRACEFUL RAGE - Harmony Woods
I was immediately drawn to GRACEFUL RAGE on my first listen. It is a powerful record of processing past trauma, where the anger in each song is often accompanied by a step forwards. On the opener, “Good Luck Rd.”, frontwoman Sofia Verbilla sings, “I’m tired of being led to bеlieve / Things aren’t what thеy seem / When they’re standing / Right in front of me.” But then she pairs these lines with, “You may not realize it yet / But I wish you the best / Yeah, everything’s fucked / Good luck.” The songs on the latter half of GRACEFUL RAGE unleash more fury towards the abhorrent and misogynistic male figures in her life (”Holding You to You”, “God’s Gift to Women”), where she makes us feel her seething rage. True to the album’s title, she processes the anger with grace, while channeling the energy into building herself back up again. The music that accompanies it is just as balanced in its intensity and volume—a great display of emo/indie rock. By the album’s end, she sings, “I’ve learned how to live without your judgment and shame / Can’t believe there was a time where I thought I lost something / Left my molted layers and uncovered my wings / I’m in love with myself now / Can you say the same?” And she finally lets it all go with, “I can’t forgive you.” And she doesn’t have to.
3. The Idyll Opus (I-VI) - Adjy
Like many great stories, The Idyll Opus (I-VI) begins in the middle. The opening track is even called “In Medias Res (Between Longing and Mystery)” and it feels like the perfect track to plunge us into the world that they have created. This is one of the longer albums that I listened to last year, clocking in at a 97-minute runtime. It’s just as long as a movie, but believe me, it feels like one too. The storytelling is intertwined in both lyrics and music; even if you don’t know what’s going on in terms of lyrical detail, you’ll feel the story’s peaks and troughs through the glorious blends of sounds. It’s clearest to me on my favorite segment of the album, “Where June Meets July: VII. The Cicada's Song, Pt. I and Pt. II”— I can almost feel the cicadas start to dance around elegantly in a cinematic forest. Honestly, I haven’t even begun to try unraveling the narratives behind the words, but I can’t stop myself from coming back. 97 minutes seem long on paper, but once you start the album, the experience just takes you away in a flash. After first listening to this album in July 2021, I’m still left breathless and speechless. Its richness in all aspects is something you have to experience for yourself.
2. Blood Bunny - chloe moriondo
Chloe Moriondo was only a teenager when she first became famous. Growing up under public scrutiny in the modern age can be emotionally tough, and she puts it all in song and lyrics on Blood Bunny. Here, we see an artist really grow from making YouTube covers to making some of the most relatable and unique pop music to come out of 2021. My first encounter with Moriondo and Blood Bunny was from the 2020 single “GIRL ON TV”, a radio-friendly and light pop-punk track that got stuck in my head for a while. So when the full album came out, I was surprised to see a lot more morbid elements and heavier instrumentation used throughout the tracklist (”I Eat Boys”, “Bodybag”). It was when I was able to take in the album as a whole and give it a few repeat listens that I realized how good it sounded.
Blood Bunny is Chloe Moriondo finding herself, and getting comfortable enough in her own skin to proclaim it to the world. On “Favorite Band”, she namedrops a few of her influences as tribute, while dissing someone’s lack of culture, “I wish I liked you as much as I like my favorite band” and even goes out of her way to say it at the end when the music has stopped, “I just don't really like your music taste and it's putting me off, it's making me feel weird, that's what this song is about.” This is my favorite song from the album because I could imagine myself doing the same. However, my favorite parts of the album are its last two songs. “Vapor” is a song full of yearning for companionship where she sings, “Just like vapor / We could be so sublime.” While I appreciated the play on words, I really liked how the production makes you feel like you’re dissolving (or at least trying to) into thin air because of how much you want to be with this person. But the album closes with “What If It Doesn’t End Well”, where she worries so much about causing a rift in a friendship or relationship that she holds so precious. The intensity of this emotion is communicated almost perfectly by the atmospheric guitars, and listening to the song feels like a great avenue to process any similar feelings of mine. To people like me who neither feel like an adult nor a teenager, the lyrics off of Blood Bunny still seem relatable as ever as we continue to feel somewhat lost in life. Hopefully, we find our way, just as Chloe Moriondo is finding hers.
1. Gami Gang - Origami Angel
I lost myself for quite a while in 2021. I felt like I was drowning in both internal and external stress, and felt that there was not enough time or energy to really figure out what to do about it. Thankfully, this was also the year where I really immersed myself in Origami Angel. Their 2019 album, Somewhere City, became my second most played album this year, since Gami Gang took the top spot.
2021 was the year I really got into pop-punk and emo. The jaunty jangling of the guitars and upbeat-yet-desolate nature of most songs just made it feel so easy for me to listen to them over and over again. At the crux of this personal discovery was Origami Angel’s skate punk layered with nostalgia, self-assuredness, and belonging. The cherry on top is that they unashamedly use puns in their song titles (”Noah Fence”, “Neutrogena Spektor”), make Pokémon references (”Mach Bike”), and insert snippets of cartoons, commentary, or whatever on the ends of some of their songs (”Möbius Chicken Strip”, “gg”). These keep things light despite the longing and struggle found in their lyrics. This is also embodied by my favorite track of the album, “Noah Fence”, where they tell a story about a Mormon who interrupts a couple’s time together. The annoyance suddenly turns into funny yet profound observation,
“They come knockin' at your doors / And that's exactly when they get you / They keep telling me 'bout heavеn / It sounds a lot like when I'm with you
And if I could write a book about you / Maybе they would see / Exactly why you mean the world to me.”
My second favorite song, “Neutrogena Spektor”, is a track blasting away at the insecurities that comes with appearance - “Wouldn't it be nice if I was easy on the eyes? / But honestly, I couldn't give a fuck and I feel fine.” The song then ends on a screamo note, with Ryland Heagy shouting at all of us, “But I don't care, it really doesn't matter to me!”
The puns, references, snippets, and humor surrounding each track—all of these are consistent with how Origami Angel view life, as Abby Jones put it in the opening lines of her review for the album on Pitchfork: “Life sucks. Origami Angel use this indisputable fact as justification not to take it so seriously.” This is exactly how I approach life, with humor and good faith despite how terrible things around me can be. Origami Angel was a constant reminder of that when I was floundering around, feeling lost.
Whenever I listen to Gami Gang or Somewhere City, I see a reflection of myself: fond of looking back towards the not so distant but much less adult past, and trying my best to not let that wonder and zest for life become too jaded. There’s too much to appreciate with where I am now, and there will always be things to look forward to despite how long and tiring a work week can get. I’m grateful to those who have been with me each step of the way, and to those who have managed to help me stay grounded. Hopefully, I can return the favor in one way or another. Here’s to taking on 2022, and all the new memories I hope to make.
It's Sunday night, so be sure to check out my weekly playlist below! If you haven't yet, I hope you could give it a follow 🧐
That's all for this week! I hope you like or come to appreciate any of the recs this week, and as always, feel free to send us your thoughts, experiences, or personal recommendations. If you've listened, please share with us your thoughts, feelings, or reactions—we would love to read about them.
Quick playlist links (I make... quite a few):
Shoutout to my production team, Marga and Denise, and Gica for the banner—thank you for all your help.