i am a writer (sometimes)

💁‍♀️😉

7x1, ten years later

3. Blood Bunny – chloe moriondo 
This might just be a perfect album. Like, objectively. There isn’t a single thing wrong with it. From its weird Cartoon Network cover art to the subdued overindulgence (no, they don’t cancel each other out, there’s an “over” here over here) of the vocals, it all works. It’s like chloe moriondo’s voice was genetically engineered to sing in that early aughts indie band overstated diction. Somehow, it’s not annoying when she does it. In fact, her distinguished voice is the only reason why I know I’m not listening to Soccer Mommy. It is also why her screaming is such a treat. For instance, in Vapor, she spends the whole song pretty much shouting the title word, but – like vapor – it doesn’t hurt when it brushes against you. It feels like someone has come dangerously close to scratching nails on a chalkboard, and then laughed at you for believing they might do it. Thank you, lo-fi. 
When you have a good vocalist and the right instruments, you don’t really need good lyrics – they simply become meaningful through the cadence. Most people don’t even pay attention to the lyrics. Nonetheless, that did not stop moriondo from having fantastic lines throughout the album – brevity is effortlessly achieved as she manages to say the most in the fewest words possible (“you’re the reason I dye my hair blue”, “don’t know if I hate you or if I wanna date you”, “And I can tell that you’re just bluffing, trying to sing along”). 
Where was the Paramore Renaissance when I was a teenager? They were in hiatus for the entirety of my high school experience. In so many ways, Blood Bunny is actually the more accomplished version of another album on this list: Olivia Rodrigo’s SOUR. Not that I don’t love SOUR, but this is more eclectic and polished and has the better song about getting one’s driver’s license (“I finally got my license / I think I’m gonna drive this time / Was just going through a crisis / Only took a couple years, it’s fine” from Rly Don’t Care). Also, chloe moriondo openly shouts out Paramore and Hayley Williams in most hilarious song of this album, which is about how her SO’s bad music taste (“We’re hanging out again, I’m wondering what I came here for / When I could be at home with my headphones and Paramore”, “And Hayley just gets me / the way you never did”). 
Best Song: Favorite Band is everything to me right now. 
Skip: *whispers* I don’t think there are any skips here
Best Lyrics: The chorus of Favorite Band, “I wish I liked you as much as I like my favorite band / It’s not your fault, it’s mine / I’m just a kid, like Simple Plan”
She really used “Simple Plan” and “favorite band” in the same sentence. That is the gutsiest thing I have ever seen anyone do in my life. Braver than any US marine.

4. Ashlyn – ASHE Following in Halsey and Lady Gaga’s footsteps, Ashe has decided to use her real name in a title. While this makes sense for the ones above, who did it pretty far along in their careers to signal a gear towards “authenticity”, (Gaga’s ill-fated Joanne and Halsey’s marvelous Ashley) this is Ashe’s debut album – that is, if you don’t consider the two EPs she put out in 2019, Moral of the Story: Chapters 1 & 2, an album in disguise, which I absolutely do. They have the same title! You could argue that they are only eight songs long, but how long does an album have to be these days? I’m just confused as to what constitutes an album for Ashe (and everyone else), that’s all. Is it a chapbook or a short story collection? And, if there are two chapbooks under the same title but divided into chapters one and two, aren’t they part of a collection?
In any case, Ashlyn steals its predecessor’s title track. That’s right, Moral of the Story is in this album, even though it is a two-year-old song that has its own album (fine, two EP’s) titled after it. And not only is it here, but there are two versions of it, one featuring Niall Horan, who was always the least annoying member of One Direction. The other feature on the album is Billie Eilish’s brother FINNEAS. I wonder who’s next, Joshua Basset? Lance Bass? I’m sorry, I’ve been seduced by cruelty – it’s not my fault: here I am trying to say nice things and all I do is nitpick. My talents for insult and compliment are unbalanced – I blame my parents. If I don’t have anything bad to say, I don’t say anything at all, which is why most of these critiques will probably just be me listing whatever’s wrong with each album, and the one with the shortest list wins. For instance, Ashlyn is not as good as Rabbit Hole or Moral of the Story, despite the recycled content. However (and here I am employing so much effort), it is in itself a fun album with solid tracks. 
There are not a single bad song here, in fact. Whereas song order is a bit confusing and all over the place (Ryne’s Song between Serial Monogamist and Kansas is… interesting? I guess we needed some contrast), there’s always shuffle (even though Adele tried ruining it). Also, the two tracks listed above, Serial Monogamist and Kansas, are an altogether sonic landslide. 
You know how, when you show your grandparents any “current” music, they say it sounds like The Beatles? My grandmother said that about both SR-71’s Right Now and Wannabe by the Spice Girls. But Ashe? The Beatles influence is legitimate, as well as that of classic jazz. You see, the most fascinating thing about Rabbit Hole was the level of reference it carried: We Get High is a reformulation of When I Get Low I Get High, and Someone to Lose pays homage to Strawberry Fields. With reference, nevertheless, comes reverence – and the less blatantly deferential Ashlyn could mean Ashe is hearing different choirs in her head. Not that I find originality that important, or that this album is some avant-garde item. It’s still got a 60’s/70’s vibe to it. Old-school vocalist that she is, Ashe brings both jazz vocal tricks and Beatles influence into her music, just in a subtler, less winky-wink way. But yeah, you can definitely hear the Lennon / McCartney version of this. Like if Magical Mystery Tour were made today. Of course, then today’s music scene would be completely different, but you get it. Taylor and I’m Fine are extra Beatles-infused. Not to sound like a grandma, but this album really is a full-on jam session. 
Best Song: Moral of the Story will be a classic some day, but it must be disqualified due to its previous links to other albums. Serial Monogamist is the winner. 
Skip: Always did not get a like from me, so I assume it doesn’t song great. 
Best lyrics: I cannot get over the moment in Moral of the Story when her mother and her lawyer ask her “where did you find this guy?”. Let’s just cite it as the Niall duet version so it won’t be disqualified.

5. Death of a Cheerleader – Pom Pom Squad
This is your perfect lazy summer afternoon album. It is cutting lyricism sung in the calmest of manners, and the underlying tension of a rock ballad without the theatrics. Heavily influenced by the greats, like Courtney Barnett and Soccer Mommy, this album takes me straight back to summer 2017 at a bus stop discovering artists like Lisa Prank, Allison Crutchfield, and Hop Along. At the same time, it could’ve come out in 2003. There’s this dreamy, breathy, beautiful summer girl who wears her cheerleader uniform during vacation, singing about sapphic romance and drunk voicemails. Maybe 1993. Spoiler alert, she does die, but only figuratively. It makes it extra spooky – less camp and more high genre horrorcore, if you will. This album is what Jennifer’s Body should have been, in a perfect world, where it’s more of a hang-out session with a demon than Amanda Seyfried trying to stop Meghan Fox from killing people. This album is Amanda Seyfried helping Meghan Fox and being the supportive friend she should have been. And just like that, an ancient wrong has been corrected. 
In Death of a Cheerleader, Pom Pom Squad manages to create the same atmosphere in every uniquely crafted song, each paying homage to a version of punk tradition and the mythical American cheerleader. I, for one, have only ever seen them in movies. 
Best Song: Drunk Voicemail is an all-around Masterpiece (take that, Big Thief, sometimes naming a song Masterpiece doesn’t make it a masterpiece)
Skip: Sound check? 
Best lyrics: Berkeley never gets old – he might be a cliché, but he pointed out a flaw in the human condition that we haven’t been able to fix. “You’re only alive when there’s somebody there”. Also, what a great diss.

6. SOUR – Olivia Rodrigo
I must confess that I postponed listening to this album for months for two reasons. For starters, I am (so much) older than Olivia Rodrigo, and seeing people younger than me be successful irritates me. Because I’m so insecure I think / I might die before I drink blink. Then there was drivers license, which I simply cannot handle. Not only because I don’t have one (Olivia is also more successful than me in that department), but also because it sounds like she’s screaming into a toilet. So, I did get the wrong idea at first, as I think most people might have. 
Once I was exposed to brutal, though, it was over for me. You’re right, sis. It IS brutal out here. And I DID get déjà vu to early 2000s pop punk. Not so much that it would earn a lawsuit from Paramore, though. That was kind of embarrassing of them. 
I still wish Olivia Rodrigo were older though, because having this album at my disposal as a teenager would have changed my perception of mainstream pop music. Ideally, I could have mixed up some of my go-to Sum 41 and Green Day mixes with some female representation. 
My minor pickle is that most of the songs here are saying the exact same thing. I get that you’re upset that Whatshisface from Disney got a new girlfriend after only two weeks, but do we really need 8 out of the 11 songs on this album to be about it? That is 72% of your album, girl. 
Best Song: brutal (obviously)
Skip: driver’s license
Best lyrics: “I’m so sick of seventeen / Where’s MY fucking teenage dream?”

7. if i could make it go quiet – girl in red
When Spotify listed me my top genres of the year, one of them was Bubblegrunge. Having no idea what that was or why I apparently loved it, I googled it, and bingo (sorry, Bing), here were artists that I listen to all the time, including girl in red. In so many words, Bubblegrunge, or Bubblegrumge, as it should be called, is a softer version of grunge for people who find real grunge too demanding. If I could make it go quiet. 
But I think this is the most utterly disquiet album on this list. Like, Fernando Pessoa entry level of disquiet. Like Book of Disquiet, this album requires a certain atmosphere – otherwise, people might find the message too simplistic. But the songs are all independent movements in a symphony. Though they are detachable, they might as well never stop playing. [insert Ben Wyatt meme] It’s about the mental displacement. It’s not saying anything new about it (some rhymes are minimal effort, which is also interesting), but it is so stylish in saying it. There’s rap, there’s emo, there are elements of early 2010s rhythms concocted for the local mentally ill teen. It’s almost like 21 Pilots, if they were good. And bonus; she can sing.
So, play it louder. Don’t let it go quiet. This whole album is a state of mind that maybe only people who have been through serious mental illness can relate to. Lucky for girl in red, that’s the majority of humans nowadays. It is sonically, lyrically, obviously a snapshot of neuroatypical activity. The glitzy and hazy background plays like a choir singing outside the lines. Also, I just found out she is Norwegian, and no one does depression like the Baltics. Even her “I wanna get better” song is just a tiny bit disturbing – it’s when she sings the title lyrics. 
Best Song: Serotonin is everything and that is why I’m on Zoloft (is Zoloft serotonin? Nope. Sertraline)
Skip: it would feel like this. No singing. Get it?
Best Lyrics: “You stupid bitch, can’t you see? / The perfect one for you is me” (You Stupid Bitch)
I’m sorry, this is just too funny. New You Belong with Me just dropped.

8. Woman on the Internet – Orla Gartland
Imagine Imagine Dragons songs without all the elements that make them (***at times) obnoxious. By the way, the Imagine Dragons album that came out this year was actually good. I get why people hate them, but I personally have paid money to see them while people used me as a wall against which to make out. Anyway, I could hear an Imagine Dragons production of each one of these songs. I’m sorry, Orla Garland, if you’re reading this. Yes, laugh simpleton reader, laugh, but last year someone sent Z Berg one of these and I’m still not sure how she felt about it. She tweeted at me! Like, a nice thing, but what if she was being sarcastic? Anyway, Orla Garland, your album is better than the Imagine Dragons’ album. I’ve typed Imagine Dragons so many times now. Stopping immediately. 
Woman on the Internet is a claustrophobic keyboard screaming in all-caps. Sometimes, it is too much. But so is the world it so faithfully portrays. This album is not scared to tell us the hard truths – has there ever been a well-intentioned song ruder than You’re Not Special, Babe? It’s like getting slapped on the face, but then offered a cup of tea for our troubles. It’s just so confusing altogether, and that’s what makes it so damn special. Babe. 
And it doesn’t stop there. We’re told maybe we’re codependent, maybe we’re not as romantically mentally ill as we think we are, and also, we might be turning into our parents. Why do I keep returning to get slapped on the face? You listen to it and tell me. There are also some great vocal moments, particularly in Madison. 
Best Song: Zombie! is so much fun! I wish it had come out in 2014 so it could have been the iZombie theme song! I would have never skipped THAT intro!
Skip: I leave Left Behind behind. Although, I don’t mind Do You Mind? It makes my ears ticklish. 
Best Lyrics: The medicated energy of “All my heroes are more sad than me” in Pretending is unmatched, but the grammar of it is stressful, so it should go to Madison’s “Can I be or your daughter or your houseplant in the corner? / Then I’d be happier / Cause I’d never have to think for myself”. Not a single weak link in that.

9. Solar Power – Lorde 
People are mad at Solar Power (2021), because it is not Melodrama (2017), forgetting that, in 2017, they were mad at Melodrama for not being Pure Heroine (2014). Lorde’s music (apart from Royals) takes a while to ruminate. The singles didn’t do her any favours, either: the titular song is offensive to winter and moon stans alike, and Stoned at the Nail Salon seems like a song marketed at nail salons, which are sure to play it on a loop for the next ten years, then go back to it once it becomes vintage. At least that is how I’d do it if I managed a nail salon, which I never would, as I would be too scared of my clients claiming they contracted hepatitis from my utensils, and having to fight it out in court. Huge liability there (see what I did?). 
Did they think releasing the two worst songs on the album as singles would lower people’s expectations? When you spend this long without releasing an album (and your last album was one of the greatest of the decade), expectations will inevitably be high. I remember a tumblr post that went “when will lorde release a new album to guide me through my twenties” and that is too much responsibility for anyone. That is what both The Path and Leader of a New Regime is ultimately about – doing your own thing with Simone and Celine. Solar Power is not so much an escapist album, as it has been accused of being, but rather an album about escapism. Yes, sometimes it is over-the-top ridiculous, as in Mood Ring (which is obviously satire – come on, guys), yet sometimes it is an artistic requirement. Lorde sets the tone in the very first track: if you’re looking for a saviour, that’s not her. She won’t guide you through your twenties. She won’t take your pain for you; she has her own already. Plus, she’s ultra-rich and watching supermodels dance around the pharaoh’s tomb at the Met Gala. She may not be a royal and even feel out of place, but she does not have any student debt, either. And she doesn’t have to pretend she does (unlike comrade Taylor, whose I Bet You Think About Me is even more tone-deaf now than it would’ve been when it got cut from Red). 
In short, Lorde has just been doing her own thing, exploring nature and experiencing the pandemic in New Zealand, a country that basically eradicated Covid like five times. We can’t blame her for being on a different vibe from the rest of us. Besides, Mood Ring and Secrets from a Girl (Who’s Seen It All) are extraordinary songs already. Even if the rest of this album were total crap, they alone would still deem it essential. Maybe the understated production makes it underwhelming (I would blame Jack Antonoff, who released the worst bleachers album this year – it wasn’t bad, but was it incredible? Nope). If can’t tell me Solar Power is a bad album solely based on its misguided marketing strategies because that means you have been letting them frame your entire experience of it. I actually think the title song should have been Big Star – it would indicate the theme of the album, which is refusing to take responsibility for the aesthetics / be crushed by the expectation of a generation. Sure, it doesn’t have much to do with the song itself, which is crushing on its own. Still, it reaffirms what she’s been telling us all along: she’s not here to please people. 
Best Song: Secrets from a Girl (Who’s Seen it all) sounds like a late 90s alternative track that I wish I had grown up with, and it captures even that uncomfortable notion that you’re getting so old (couldn’t wait to turn fifteen / then you blink and it’s been ten years) that you’ve gotten over everything that seemed to matter the most. Now you’re just waiting for the moment you’ll start calling yourself a woman. Thank god Robyn is there to guide us. 
Skip: Solar Power, 100%. 
Best lyrics: Either “And all of the music you loved at sixteen / you’ll grow out of” (Stoned at the Nail Salon) or “I thought I was a genius / But now I’m twenty-two” (The Man with the Axe). It’s okay, Lorde. You are a genius. PS: I didn’t put the original cover because I’m afraid tumblr might flag it… sorry

10. No Gods No Masters – Garbage You know Garbage – they’re the ones only happy when it rains. They were camp before Anna Wintour taught people what camp was. AND they’re still going strong twenty-six years after that song came out. Just like the X-Files, they have infinite lives – which makes sense given they were featured in that episode about the devil spawn. Must’ve cut some kind of deal. No Gods No Masters actually sounds a lot like the number one album on this list, Daddy’s Home. Most of these songs could be there – although Garbage’s album is, interestingly enough, the more serious one. I mean, they are tasking themselves with a theological examination of everything, while the most intense St. Vincent gets about something in her album is when she’s talking about someone being fake happy at the holiday party. Right away, they checklist a manifesto in The Men Who Rule the World. It’s noble and punk rock of them, and I know they were doing this before it was cool, but nowadays when someone writes a song against People in Power™, it immediately feels insincere. The Men Who Rule the World wasn’t even the best of Vaguely Leftist songs of 2021; that title goes to MARINA’s extremely catchy Purge the Poison. Some other tracks follow the coopting trend of pop (or, as we should be calling it, co-popting) that involves delivering filtered-down sociopolitical statements without actually going all the way and calling the problems by its names. Nevertheless, the apocalyptic motif of No Gods No Masters wouldn’t fit with the desaturated Poptimism (or what passes for it) of late. At its core, the album is asking one of the oldest questions in the book: Siri, why does God (if there is a god) allow suffering? And it does attempt to come up with hypotheses without actually choosing one. Not to mention it, they end the album in an existential shrug: a techno track called Time Will Destroy Everything, which I think should include the shrugging girl emoji. Even the titular track is dealing in some sort of defeatist existentialism, proclaiming we own our futures to ruin in the same ways we ruined our past. If that is not telling us Existentialism is a Humanism, I don’t know what else is. Yet the album is at its best when it focuses on the second part of its title. While we’re still crossing our fingers the first will show up (Waiting for God), we are flipping the bird at our masters (Flipping the Bird). The idea that we, too, are our own masters is explored early on in two top tracks, The Creeps and Uncomfortably Me. Though Garbage does proclaim “reality is a metaphor”, a religious view turned on its head to the downright count of one single head sabotaging itself. Maybe the need for god stems from the need of being perceived by anyone, but not someone (that loses its potential). Then you get a song like Starman, which is basically giving you a dreamy rundown of God’s plans, and telling you everything will work out together for the best. Best Song: Starman, maybe because its optimism paradoxically inspires a certain sceptical distance. Besides, it’s just a fun song all around. Skip: I really don’t need to listen to yet another version of Because the Night. Best lyrics: Okay, so in Starman, the chorus goes “There’s a Starman waiting in the sky / He wants to come and meet us / But he thinks he’d blow our minds / There’s a Starman waiting in the sky / He told us not to blow it / ‘Cause he knows it’s all worthwhile/ He told me “Let the children use it” / “Let the children lose it”/ “Let all the children boogie” Ah, yes, “Let the children boogie”. I remember that being one of the Ten Commandments.