15.
Robyn, ‘Body Talk,’ 2010
Robyn’s knack for writing songs that made you want to dance and cry at the same time was already well-established before 2010. Five years after founding her own label and securing the artistic freedom she never had as a bubblegum-pop teen icon, the Swedish singer announced an ambitious plan to release three mini-albums in one year, recording and touring simultaneously to fund her efforts. The gamble paid off: Body Talk, the compilation of those releases, distills love, loneliness, and dancefloor euphoria into electro-pop perfection. Its legacy transcends just being a stellar record: Body Talk is the mark of a singular artist claiming her future. Body Talk reintroduces Robyn as a woman with complexities to celebrate: she’s a hyper-optimized fembot rebelling against societal expectations; she’s a globetrotting badass you should know not to fuck with; she’s indestructible. This theme is epitomized by songs like Fembot, where she declares, “Fembots have feelings too,” underscoring the duality of being both machine and human. In Body Talk, Robyn touches on empowerment and self-realization, blurring the lines between vulnerability and strength. The album navigates personal freedom, as reflected in songs like Indestructible, where Robyn declares resilience amidst emotional upheaval. In Don’t Fucking Tell Me What to Do, Robyn delivers a list of modern societal pressures with a biting wit, encapsulating the stressors of everyday life. In contrast, Dancing on My Own stands out as a powerful anthem of loneliness and heartache, capturing the emotional turmoil of watching someone move on with another partner. Call Your Girlfriend lays claim to a lover while respecting their ex, tackling the complexities of relationships with a tender honesty.
Musically, Body Talk achieves a dynamic fusion of genres, incorporating elements of dancehall, electro-pop, and synth-pop. The album’s composition is characterized by its infectious beats and ethereal synths, creating soundscapes that are both futuristic and nostalgic. The production, primarily handled by Klas Åhlund, is meticulous and vibrant, ensuring each track possesses a unique sonic identity while contributing to a cohesive album experience. Tracks such as Indestructible showcase Robyn’s ability to marry emotional depth with dancefloor energy. The song features a propulsive 4/4 beat intertwined with an arpeggiated synth line, underscoring Robyn’s lyrical resolve to love fiercely despite past heartbreak. Call Your Girlfriend exemplifies Robyn’s knack for blending melancholy with euphoria. The track’s anthemic chorus and driving beat reflect the album’s overarching theme of dancing through emotional pain. Moreover, the production choices, such as tight drum loops and soaring synths, reinforce the emotive weight of Robyn’s vocals. The album’s 15 songs surge forward with pulsating four-to-the-floor breakdowns, disco sparkles, and glitchy techno earworms, with Robyn firmly declaring, “I’m gonna love you like I am indestructible.”
So far away, but still so near
The lights go on, the music dies
But you don’t see me standing here
I just came to say goodbye
I’m in the corner, watchin’ you kiss her
I’m right over here, why can’t you see me?
I’m giving it my all
But I’m not the girl you’re takin’ home
I keep dancing on my own
14.
SZA, ‘Ctrl,’ 2017
SZA’s debut studio album, Ctrl, is a coming-of-age narrative that encapsulates the struggles and triumphs of finding oneself in a world rife with expectations. This alternative R&B and neo-soul album seamlessly integrates elements of hip-hop, pop, electronic, and indie, offering a refreshing take on contemporary music. At the heart of Ctrl is the concept of control – or the lack thereof. SZA navigates themes of growth, infidelity, loneliness, insecurity, and self-love, framing them within the broader societal expectations placed on women, particularly in regard to perfection and sexual monogamy, and reflects on the oftentimes tumultuous journey of self-acceptance. The opening lines, delivered by SZA’s mother, introduce the fear of losing control, a theme echoed throughout the album. SZA challenges preconceived norms about femininity, questioning the necessity to remain perfect and submissive in relationships. Songs like Supermodel and Normal Girl delve into feelings of inadequacy and desire for validation, offering a candid glimpse into SZA’s psyche. On the woozy Doves in the Wind, SZA sings about Forrest Gump—not a figure running through her mind like Frank Ocean—but the kind of guy who sees women as more than just their bodies and who “deserve the whole box of chocolates.” Amidst these overarching themes, SZA touches on body image, emotional health, and sexual freedom. The inclusion of voicemail messages from her mother serves as a narrative thread, guiding listeners through the complexities of SZA’s introspective journey. Her lyrics are intimate and conversational, often resembling diary entries more than traditional songwriting. The vivid, emotive language provides a raw exploration of her personal experiences and internal conflicts.
The production on Ctrl is an eclectic mix that defies traditional R&B boundaries. The analog recording process lends the album a warm, organic feel, with unplugging and re-plugging of wires to capture desired sounds. Influences from artists like Lauryn Hill and Björk are palpable, yet SZA creates a unique sonic landscape that blurs genre lines. In Ctrl, She takes R&B to unexpected places, with composition so eccentric it becomes inimitable. The use of call-and-response elements, particularly in tracks such as Wavy featuring James Fauntleroy, showcases SZA’s innovative approach to music composition. Her strategic use of minimalistic arrangements highlights the powerful emotionality of her vocals. The album’s production is characterized by its lo-fi aesthetic and subtle instrumentation, providing a lush, dreamlike backdrop that complements SZA’s silvery vocals. Tracks like Supermodel feature sparse guitar riffs, while songs such as Garden (Say It Like Dat) and Broken Clocks incorporate smooth, sumptuous beats that enhance the emotive quality of SZA’s voice. This sonic tapestry that blends simplicity and complexity allows the intricate nuances of her storytelling to shine through.
How you ain’t say you was movin’ forward?
Honesty hurts when you’re gettin’ older
I gotta say I’ll miss the way you need me, yeah
Why you ain’t say you was gettin’ bored?
Why you ain’t say I was fallin’ short?
How you lead me out so far away?
13.
Taylor Swift, ‘Red,’ 2012
I can’t decide if it’s a choice, getting swept away
I hear the sound of my own voice, asking you to stay
And all we are is skin and bone, trained to get along
Forever going with the flow, but you’re frictionTwo headlights shine through the sleepless night
And I will get you, and get you alone
Your name has echoed through my mind
And I just think you should, think you should know
That nothing safe is worth the drive
And I would follow you, follow you home
You know she’s trouble when she walks in. Red marks Taylor Swift’s transition from country roots (self-titled, Fearless, and Speak Now) to the broader landscape of pop and rock, standing as a defining moment in her musical evolution. Red is principally recognized as a “breakup album,” where Taylor Swift candidly explores the complexities of love, heartbreak, and self-discovery. Swift herself described it as her “true breakup album,” distinctively enveloped in the painful yet cathartic aftermath of intense relationships. Red is essentially a portrait of a young woman eager to feel everything on her way to the top. Its songs are self-aware enough to be funny and guileless enough to be honest, capturing the temptation of risk-taking, the rush of memory and disappointment, and the transformative power of grown-up romantic love felt for the first time. Swift herself described these feelings as intense and overwhelming, with “nothing beige” about them.
On the album’s opener State of Grace, guitars chime like sonar, as if trying to measure the diameter of Swift’s feelings: the early blushes of a relationship, when you seem to recognize something in someone else that you’re not certain anyone else has seen. The album employs colors to underscore its themes, with the titular track Red utilizing red to signify passionate, yet fleeting love. Colors like blue and grey symbolize melancholy and loneliness, demonstrating Swift’s penchant for vivid imagery. “But moving on from him is impossible / When I still see it all in my head / In burning red,” she sings, denoting the intensity of love and heartbreak. In All Too Well, Swift showcases her ability to delve into vivid imagery and intricate emotional narratives, expanding upon themes of memory and loss with profound depth. This chromatic storytelling offers listeners an articulate glimpse into the overpowering emotions triggered by love and loss.
Red is an album of disappearances, of things that have gone or are just about to go missing—lost relationships, old sounds, previous Taylor Swifts, each photographed just as they’re receding out of frame. Even on the album cover, Swift is partially disappeared, her downcast eyes swallowed by a lip of shadow falling from a wide-brimmed hat. Swift was trying to push her music outside of its traditional boundaries, to stray into the Interzone between pop and country. Collaborating with producers such as Max Martin, Shellback, Jeff Bhasker, and longtime collaborator Nathan Chapman, Swift experiments with diverse styles, blending acoustic and electronic elements to expand her sonic palette. In the Swift/Martin/Shellback collaboration track, We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, a chord thrums from an acoustic guitar which then turns inside out as it plays, as if caught in the neck of a vacuum. In I Knew You Were Trouble, synths scream behind Swift’s voice like mechanical saws. It was as if she had finally found a musical backdrop sharp as her lyrics—the lakes and backroads of Tennessee and Georgia disappear, replaced with formations of jagged crystal, a perfect environment for a song about falling in love with someone you know will hurt you and leave you feeling empty as a canyon.
Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it
I’d like to be my old self again
But I’m still trying to find it
After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own
Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone
But you keep my old scarf from that very first week
‘Cause it reminds you of innocence
And it smells like me
You can’t get rid of it
‘Cause you remember it all too well
12.
Beyoncé, ‘Beyoncé,’ 2013
Ain’t got no doctor or pill that can take the pain away
The pain’s inside and nobody frees you from your body
It’s the soul, it’s my soul that needs surgery
Plastic smiles and denial can only take you so far
Then you break when the fake facade leaves you in the dark
You’re left with shattered mirrors and the shards of a beautiful past
Beyoncé’s self-titled album, Beyoncé, is a masterclass in balancing personal introspection with bold thematic ventures, particularly into feminism and empowerment. The album dropped at midnight on a Thursday as a complete surprise and seemed to envelop all of the social media into the dawn hours while also revolutionizing how albums are conceived and released.
Notably, Beyoncé engages politically and socially more directly than her previous works. Released at a time when discussions of feminism penetrated mainstream dialogue, Beyoncé positions herself as both a participant and an influencer in these conversations. The album also navigates themes of love, sexuality, motherhood, the struggles and joys of fame, and self-discovery. Songs like Blue, featuring her daughter, provide a touching exploration of familial love, while tracks such as Drunk in Love and Partition are unabashedly sensual, reflecting both marital intimacy and female autonomy. The lyrics across Beyoncé are candid and reflective, moving away from her previous glossy pop anthems to more raw and explicit content. Tracks like Pretty Hurts, featuring the footage of Beyoncé on “Star Search” at a young age, and ***Flawless, sampling Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s 2012 TEDX talk, critique the pressure of perfection and beauty standards, resonating with listeners facing similar societal expectations. These tracks challenge superficial ideals while presenting an empowering narrative of self-worth. The album’s intimate self-exposure reaches a pinnacle in songs like Mine and Superpower, featuring artists such as Drake and Frank Ocean. Here, Beyoncé explores complex relationships, delivering lines with vulnerability yet maintaining her characteristic strength.
The sonic composition of Beyoncé is as diverse as its thematic palette, experimenting with an array of musical styles, evolving from her previous glossy pop anthems. The album deftly melds pop, R&B, soul, and elements of post-dubstep, electronic, and funk. Production techniques vary from the ethereal layers in Haunted to the minimalist, high-energy riffs in Partition. The album is steeped in heavy bass lines and ambient effects.The track No Angel toys with electronic influences, while others like Flawless bring in rap elements, underscoring Beyoncé’s quest to explore sounds that are edgy and impactful. Even in more traditional R&B settings, her compositions resist staleness, inviting listeners into her dynamic sonic landscape. Also, Beyoncé is a visual album: Each track is paired with a meticulously crafted music video, crucial to the album’s narrative depth. The visual narrative extends the album’s reach beyond audio, becoming an integral part of how the album is consumed and understood. Beyoncé is a cultural artifact that encapsulates the complexities of the modern woman as Beyoncé experiences them. Through its rich thematic content, innovative production techniques, and masterful compositions, the album not only redefined her career but also set a new standard in the music industry, confirming once more that Beyoncé is in a league of her own.
Sometimes, I wanna walk in your shoes
Do the type of things that I’ll never, ever do
I take one look in the mirror and I say to myself
“Baby girl, you can’t survive like this, no, no, no”
And I hate you for your lies and your covers
And I hate us for makin’ good love to each other
And I love makin’ you jealous, but don’t judge me
And I know that I’m bein’ hateful, but that ain’t nothing
That ain’t nothing
I’m just jealous, I’m just human
Don’t judge me
11.
Sufjan Stevens, ‘Carrie & Lowell,’ 2015
The hospital asked should the body be cast
Before I say goodbye, my star in the sky
Such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth
Do you find it all right, my dragonfly?Shall we look at the moon, my little loon
Why do you cry?
Make the most of your life, while it is rife
While it is light
Carrie & Lowell, the seventh studio album by American singer-songwriter Sufjan Stevens, marks a poignant return to his indie folk roots, diverging significantly from the electronic inclinations of his previous album, The Age of Adz (2010). The concept of Carrie & Lowell is founded on the tragic demise of Stevens’ mother, Carrie, in 2012. The album is named after her and Stevens’ stepfather, Lowell Brams, who played a vital role in Stevens’ upbringing and in the establishment of Asthmatic Kitty Records. As such, the album is an intensely personal exploration of Sufjan’s emotions, focusing predominantly on the darker and more somber aspects of his experience with loss and memory. Thematically, the album traverses through complicated emotions, mirroring the complexities of Stevens’ relationship with his mother, who struggled with addiction and mental health issues. The work touches on Stevens’ feelings of abandonment and reconciliation, the tangibility of grief, and the elusive nature of forgiveness. Carrie & Lowell spans like a meditation on silence, offering a reflective pause to introspect on life’s ephemeral nature.
The songs on Carrie & Lowell rarely take place in the present tense. Instead, Stevens blends his childhood and future, his fantasies and traumas, his loved ones and tormentors, into a record where unromantic confessions blend into the universal. Fourth of July emerges as the emotional fulcrum of the album, characterized by its dialogue between Stevens and an imagined spirit of his mother, posing questions that linger unresolved with the line “Did you get enough love, my little dove? / Why do you cry?”. In tracks like Death with Dignity, Stevens utilizes introspective lyrics to grapple with his tumultuous relationship with his mother and the pain of her absence. The song The Only Thing alludes to themes of self-harm and despair, showcasing Stevens’ struggle with deep-seated trauma while maintaining a serene composure. In Eugene and Should Have Known Better, Stevens’ vocals wade through themes of regret and acceptance. These songs juxtapose the meticulous nature of remembering against the tumultuous attempts to let go, underscoring the album’s reflective heart.
Carrie & Lowell is stripped down, featuring a sparse, acoustic-driven soundscape that ushers Stevens back to his folk origins, where he trades ostentation for austerity. The album’s composition is marked by tender guitar work and gentle harmonies, creating an intimate setting that foregrounds the emotion-laden lyrics. Produced by Stevens himself, with contributions from artists like Thomas Bartlett and Sean Carey, the production on Carrie & Lowell is stark and unobtrusive, keeping the focus firmly on the introspective nature of the music. The deliberate simplicity in arrangement accentuates the album’s melancholic tone, allowing Stevens’ poignant storytelling to resonate profoundly with the listener, reminiscent of earlier works like Seven Swans. This restrained approach contrasts significantly with the elaborate orchestration of his earlier works such as Illinois and reflects a mature, introspective phase in Stevens’ creative journey. Ultimately, Carrie & Lowell is more than just a mourning ode to Stevens’ past; it presents a universally relatable story, reflecting the enduring challenge of reconciling with one’s history while seeking peace in its fleeting shadows.
The only reason why I continue at all
Faith in reason, I wasted my life playing dumb
Signs and wonders, sea lion caves in the dark
Blind faith, God’s grace, nothing else left to impartDo I care if I survive this, bury the dead where they’re found
In a veil of great surprises, hold to my head till I drown
Should I tear my eyes out now, before I see too much?
Should I tear my arms out now, I wanna feel your touch