In the age of Spotify playlists and Pandora radio, do albums still matter? There are plenty of statistics that suggest they don’t, at least not culturally as they once did. Yet, musicians still talk about their music primarily in terms of albums (aka records or LPs). Watch an interview with Adele or Kanye, and you will hear them talk about the stories and ideas behind their new ‘record.’
There are a lot of ways of listening to music, but it’s difficult to argue musicians don’t intend their work to be heard as a whole, cohesive experience, complete with an intentionally ordered list of songs and visual artwork in the form of the packaging. (Though the amount of artistic freedom musicians exercise over the track list and artwork of their albums may vary greatly.) If artists view their art this way, why shouldn’t we consume it this way?
I understand the appeal of playlists and the radio. In the vast ocean of Spotify, they are essential pathways to finding new music. They allow us to bookmark favorite songs and new finds. There are also plenty of times when a hit song is stuck on an otherwise mediocre album. However, it is possible, even probable, that we miss great musical moments when we take our favorite songs out of the context of an entire album. Good artists reward listeners by writing great songs and organizing them in a way that flows well.
The case for the album really only applies to certain readers (those who want the most out of music) and certain artists (those who create albums with an intentional flow, variety and aesthetic). Here’s how I know: I listened to 110 newly released albums this year. I found that there is a seemingly endless supply of musicians who make records that reward listeners for sticking around for 30 to 60 minutes.
One album I found myself revisiting almost weekly was “Light Upon the Lake” by Whitney. It’s the musical equivalent of raspberry sorbet: light and simple, colorful and sweet-tart. The songs tell stories, but the audial texture of the record crafts a journey in itself. The first song, “No Woman,” begins with the melancholic lines, “I left drinking on the city train / to spend some time on the road,” accompanied by pensive guitar strumming and the occasional trumpet. By the finale, singer Julian Ehrlich repeats optimistically in strained falsetto, “I’ll follow you!” backed by a growing tantara. It’s the perfect album to blast with the windows down on a sunny day.
And there were others–109 others. Here are the ten albums, the top 9 percent, that made the biggest impression on me this year. They are the albums that worked on me from beginning to end, in or out of order, playing in the background or under the magnifying glass of my undivided attention (in an estimated order of preference):
“Light Upon the Lake” by Whitney; “Coloring Book” by Chance the Rapper; “Blonde” by Frank Ocean; “Masterpiece” by Big Thief; “22, A Million” by Bon Iver; “Singing Saw” by Kevin Morby; “You Want It Darker” by Leonard Cohen; “I Had a Dream That You Were Mine” by Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam; “Cardinal” by Pinegrove; and “Next Thing” by Frankie Cosmos.
By Garrett Moore, Staff writer
