Dear Reader,
As the crypto world turns, I had the best long weekend completely offline being a real person and had the bright idea to do something a little OT but actually the most ON topic: write about music! Big shoutout to WILLOW for prompting this week’s blog post, which is a celebration of three albums in particular that I have been living with heavily for the past weeks. Here’s what else I’ve been up to:
Getting ready to co-host a park hang for the ages with @Melknee! If you’re in New York, catch us outside at Play No Games this weekend!
Dropping my own work with my gaycoinz amigetas on Zora!
Celebrating the Take Up Space zine launch by ordering a copy — SO GOOD!
Without further ado, let’s get into Three Albums That Make Me Believe in Music Again.
First, I think we’ve been blessed with an unusual number of good albums in the past year or so, so let me give an honorable mention shoutout to Ariana Grande, Reneè Rapp, Beyonce, Troye Sivan, and Empress Of (and Shygirl too if we’re counting EPs!). Let me also say that it’s no surprise that at least two of the albums below come from artists who are queer women; of course they are trailblazing and shining hard.
What the three of these artists below have in common is a strong sense of self that transcends trends, and a deep love for the music over all that shines through in their work. They’re also all Gen Z! And their music is VERY different from each other’s (she’s an eclectic girly) while finding mainstream appeal. Here are Three Albums That Make Me Believe in Music Again.
The great Carly Rae Jepsen once coined the phrase Music to Clean Your House To, the working title for what later became her pop classic, Dedicated. She said, in making that album, she was aspiring to create music suitable for that activity as it tends to hold up. It’s an interesting metric that has stuck with me ever since, and it has helped me narrow down to one of my defining traits of a great album: so versatile that you can both clean your house to it or stare out the window of an airplane during takeoff to it, both of which I’ve done with Heaven Knows.
Heaven Knows sits lovingly in that place for me as an album for any kind of weather, and that also reveals more of itself with repeat listens (another one of my great album traits!). The Billboard Women in Music Producer of the Year for 2024 PinkPantheress released her full-length debut album in the fall of 2023, and it surprised a lot of people, including me. I had come to know PinkPantheress as an expert crafter of bops, but Heaven Knows stands out as much for its songwriting as it does for its ear candy melodies and intricate production. Fave “Ophelia” follows the tragic story of the Shakespearean character of the same name mixed artfully with a modern perspective while seemingly innocently sung tracks like “Mosquito,” “Blue,” and “Feel Complete” take fresh introspective turns around topics like the sudden onrush of global fame & funds, the quiet ways we envy and long for acceptance from others, and making the difficult decision to end a relationship with someone you’ve been holding up for so long.
As far as PinkPantheress the person goes, there is an authenticity and humility to her that resonates with me deeply. It is kind of a miracle that she has remained herself through her sudden rise to fame. You just know there were industry people itching to turn her into an easily marketable and conventionally pretty/hot Tate McRae of sorts, but PinkPantheress has remained so steadfastly herself as a person and as an artist, and that’s why this is just the beginning of great things for her. (Check out her first single of the year, “Turn it up,” which just dropped and pays homage via a dreamy Selena sample.)
This one came out of left field in the best way. It also feels like a major example of Spotify deciding to push someone heavily via their radio, which I usually find offensive, but with Chappell, they actually did some good. Between opening for Olivia Rodrigo and picking up new converts by the day since a couple years back with bold singles like “Naked in Manhattan,” Chappell is such an intoxicating breath of fresh air.
If you’re gay and listen to music, you probably heard “Red Wine Supernova” at some point in late 2023. It stood out in so many ways, from the incredible vocal performance (“who IS this?” - me), to the blending of acoustic guitar with electro pop production, to one of the catchiest, most iconic hooks I’ve heard in SOME time. From there, you probably started picking up some plays on “Pink Pony Club,” an anthemic celebration of a song and of queer culture sure to make your heart swell when you shout along to the massive chorus (best experienced with others!). It also comes with a hint of the more vulnerable songwriting Chappell is capable of in its piano-laden intro: “Oh, Santa Monica / I swear it’s calling me.”
Jumping into the album from there, you’ll find plenty more upbeat and sparkly tracks (including one that delightfully toes the line on sinister in “My Kink Is Karma”), but my favorite thing about the album as a work is how strong the ballads are in counterbalance to its dance-floor bangers. “Casual” is an angsty instant queer classic for everyone who’s ever been led on while “Coffee” brings you back to those lingering feelings for someone you really don’t need to see anymore, and “Picture You” presents one of my favorite moments on the album in its gorgeous, lulling bridge. With the success of follow-up single “Good Luck, Babe,” the sky is the limit for Chappell.
Again, this album prompted me to write this post in the first place; it’s a brilliant reminder of the power of music, and the power of standing your own ground in your art. By the way, in empathogen, you are looking at the current number one Contemporary Jazz Album in the country (via Billboard).
WILLOW’s musical career has been a little all over the place in the best way. Her last album, <COPINGMECHANISM>, which is full of gems, is the most punk rock shit I’ve heard in some time. Her voice is a huge and undeniable emotive force, and to hear it soar and scream in the context of pop rock of any kind is so satisfying. So you can imagine what it sounds like when WILLOW turns around and drops a multi-genre triumph (yes, heavily jazzy, but also much more than that) a couple years later in empathogen.
At just 23, it seems to me that WILLOW is just beginning to come into her musical own and on her own terms. This album feels at parts like Esperanza Spalding, at others, like Tori Amos (really!), and then St. Vincent pops up for a feature that I must say results in a better song than anything on her own recent album. What’s new for me this time around is a stronger connection to the lyrics, which feel like new age exploration of the self without overdoing it.
The album is best experienced as a whole but standout tracks include the groovy and addictive “false self,” “symptom of life,” “the fear is not real,” and “run!”
As her Tiny Desk shows, WILLOW is a MUSICIAN to the highest degree. Combined with her ambition to be a true great, I have a feeling this album will be turning a lot more heads as the year goes on in a music industry where WILLOW is sorely needed.
xo C
celia inside
