• If x then happiness. Find x. Simple algebra. What is the one thing you want for life or for the moment? How do you get it? That’s the problem. I can think about some times in my life when I thought everything was coming together only for it all to fall apart. There was this awesome housing situation in college until my roommate called to say that he wasn’t coming back next year. Or establishing the “dream team” at two of my schools. Spoiler alert: it never lasts, and new drama comes up to make the dream team more of a nightmare. If only I had that promotion. If only I bought X.  If only that person was available. X-Y= happiness. But what happens when it doesn’t happen? What happens when the exact opposite happens. You don’t get the promotion. Maybe you get fired. They get married rather than breaking up. The relationship turns abusive or maybe hidden infidelity. What happens next? That’s what this synth-pop single by Years & Years deals with.  

    I DREAMED OF A LIFE SO BIG AND TALL. Robert Burns wrote in “To a Mouse“: “Best laid schemes o[f] mice an[d] men [go oft awry].” Years & Years is a group I’ve gotten into gradually. I found Alexander’s usage of religious imagery in much of the band’s songs interesting. Themes of longing for connection, gender/queerness, and ritual permeate around the sounds of synths and a grooving beat. Olly Alexander certainly isn’t the first openly gay musician to hit the radio, but most singers don’t use same-sex pronouns in their music as do Years & Years. What I’ve found when listening to the band is that it takes a while for their songs to hit me, but when they do each song becomes a transformative experience both musically and lyrically. Today’s song seems to be about parents’ divorce, but it could also be about falling in love with someone in a relationship waiting for the other relationship to end.

    WEAKNESS WON’T BE YOUR SAVIOR. I used to be a disappointment prepper, maybe I still am. I figure if I think that the worst case could happen, I’ll be satisfied with whatever outcome happens if it’s not the worst thing, and somehow I’ll be prepared to deal with the worst case if it does happen. I was a chronic worrier when I was a kid. When I was in kindergarten, my dad’s truck caught on fire. The truck stalled in the driveway after my dad delivered firewood to a customer. My dad, sister, and I sat for a few seconds in the truck. My dad later said that he was puzzled why the truck had died but I just thought we were sitting waiting to go in the house like we would do sometimes. Then we started to see ash coming form the hood. My dad yelled at us, “Get out!” He grabbed my sister and I didn’t bother opening my heavy door. I was out the door right behind my dad. Next thing I knew, the flames grew and my dad was spraying the open hood with our garden hose. He eventually sold the truck, but I started to have a fear of old trucks and fire after that day. The fire safety videos at school kept me awake very late many nights, particularly in the winter. Would a stray log roll out of the stove? Could I be sure that the electrical wiring was done right in the house? And every type of natural or unnatural disaster I learned about I added to my prayer list–my handover to God to watch over me and my family when I couldn’t be in control. I don’t know when I grew out of this. I don’t remember my prayer list from ten years or after being a list of “save me from ….” I think started to learn that I couldn’t control everything and that sometimes you are just a victim no matter what precautions you take. But still, I catastrophize events in my personal life. “I’m  pretty sure that _____ might happen. If it does, I will need to do ____.” But I’m trying to fight that instinct and just let things happen. Whatever happens, “The future will be rearranged.”

    Read “Up in Flames” by Olly Alexander on Genius.

  •  Every song on Charlie Puth’s third record, Charlie, deals with heartbreak and rejection. “Smells Like Me” is no exception. The idea of the song, Puth revealed on Twitter, is that the song is “about when you think of the person you were with for so long having sex with someone new but with they’re wearing clothes that smell like you still while they….” It’s a song about passive-aggressive revenge, a hope that even though the romance is over, the two are still biologically linked for a time. The speaker of the song hopes that the scent he left on his former lover distracts her, though she’s moved on. Rather than pontificate on this theme more, I’d like to introduce my Heartbreak Mix to Apple Music. These break-up songs might hit just right during one of those wrong times. Cheer up!

  • When I was a Christian teenager, a book started circulating in my church youth group. Joshua Harris wrote about youth with wisdom and authority that seemed logical and categorical for every situation to the young women who read I Kissed Dating Goodbye. The book’s thesis argued that dating was a worldly alternative to the more purposeful Christian concept of courtship. Dating fueled erotic passions, which must be saved for a heterosexual marriage. Dating is casual, even preteens dates. Courtship was about vetting a marriage partner and would happen in the late teen years or early adulthood. 


    YOU THINK I’M PRETTY WITHOUT ANY MAKEUP ONJosh Harris’s I Kissed Dating Goodbye was part of a movement I’ve written about a lot: purity culture. How much this movement influenced young Katy Hudson, a pastor’s daughter in Southern California, touring with a slew of Christian rockers on the heels of her debut, self-titled album, I can only speculate what went through the 17-year-old star’s head as she walked arm-in-arm with boyfriend Matt Thiessen, the frontman of Christian music’s answer to Blink-182, Relient K. On Christian radio, Rebecca St. James’ “Wait for Me” became an abstinence anthem. Millions of teens attended True Love Waits rallies and pledged their virginity until marriage, sealing their commitment with purity rings. Katy Hudson’s Christian music career was short-lived and something of CCM folklore. The album is no longer in print, and the record label Red Hill Records, a pop subsidiary of Pamplin Records, went out of business later that year. Unlike some of her future younger peers who were influenced by purity culture–Selena Gomez, the Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato–Hudson wasn’t around in Christian music long enough to make a memorable statement about purity culture.

    LET’S GO ALL THE WAY TONIGHTHudson reemerged in 2008 as Katy Perry, taking her mothers’ maiden name as her stage name. Perry told The Guardian in 2017, “I created this wonderful character called Katy Perry that I very much am, and can step into all the time, but I created that character out of protection . . .  I was scared that if you saw me, Katheryn Hudson . . . you’d be like, ‘that’s not glamorous.’” The new curated persona Katy Perry was a party girl in her mid-20s. She “kissed a girl and . . . liked it,” a song which flouted Christian views on homosexuality, much to the chagrin to her parents. Following her 2008 rebranded debut, One of the Boys, Perry released Teenage Dream in 2010. The album was partially inspired by the singer’s falling in love with and marriage to comedian Russell Brand. While One of the Boys is a quirky album with moments of sexuality, Teenage Dream is a much more sexual album, even featuring Perry in the nude on the album cover, lying on a cloud, provocatively obscured for the censors. There have been sex albums before and after Teenage Dream, many of which had no context with purity culture. But Teenage Dream feels like it has a forbidden longing–years of repression and rebellion summating into the speaker saying “I might get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans.” And yet, the song “Teenage Dream,” sounds very much like the sexual fantasy of  teenagers thinking about their first night with a sexual partner, whether in the confines of marriage or just a loving relationship. With so much “smut” being released post-Teenage Dream, it’s interesting to look back at the album and remember how influential it was on pop music today and how it was probably constructed by evangelical purity culture. Doesn’t that make the forbidden fruit taste sweeter?

  • In 1988, Tracy Chapman‘s first single “Fast Car” rose to Number 6 on Billboard‘s Hot 100. Her performance at Wembley Stadium in Nelson Mandela’s 7oth birthday tribute helped to kick-start the singer’s career. At the time Mandela was still serving time in prison, and the tribute concert gave a strong message to world against South African apartheid. Chapman produced a string of hits in the late ’80s and early ’90s, but she is best known for today’s song, “Fast Car.” Last year, “Fast Car” took another ride on Billboard’s Hot 100, this time all the way to number 2. But this time, Luke Combs, a country singer with no previous pop crossover hits was the song’s driver. Combs’ cover of “Fast Car” was just one of the massive country songs of last year. In fact, it was another country hit, Morgan Wallen’s “Last Night,” that kept “Fast Car” from sliding into the top spot.

    I GOT A JOB THAT PAYS ALL OUR BILLS. Last year, one of the albums I listened to most was Tracy Chapman’s self-titled debut album. The album is quite musically diverse with folk and pop, even an A cappella storytelling track, the tragic “Behind the Wall.” Years before I got into Chapman’s music, I remember reading either Malcolm Gladwell or Chuck Klosterman talking about how the singer’s genre-bending worked against her in terms of longevity as an artist. I wish I could find the quote—it’s probably on my dead Kindle. Sadly, American music audiences expected certain musical styles from people of color. In a 1988 Rolling Stone interview, Chapman discussed with writer Steve Pond her musical influences and whether or not she embraced being a folk singer, a genre most associated with white singer-songwriters. She said:

            I think what comes to people’s minds is the Anglo-American   

            tradition of the folk singer, and they don’t think about the black

            roots of folk music. So in that sense, no, I don’t. My influences and     

            my background are different. In some ways, it’s a combination of

            the black and white folk traditions.

    Even today, music is still somewhat segregated, though there are now a few mainstream Country singers of color. “Fast Car” has been covered many times, but Luke Combs’ version was the force that brought the song back to the chart. 


    SPEED SO FAST, IT FELT LIKE I WAS DRUNK. Last year, Country music seemed to be the mouthpiece of a vocal conservative population. Last year, four country songs topped Billboard’s Hot 100. Only 1975 had more country songs top the list, five total. All of the four country songs or the artists performing those songs to top the Hot 100 were controversial, ranging from Zach Bryan’s verbal harassment of a police officer and arrest to Jason Aldean’s minefield of racist gaslighting encoded in “Try That in a Small Town.” Combs’ “Fast Car” wasn’t a number-one hit, nor was it enshrined with controversy. It did spark some interesting conversations brought to light by the Black Opry, a website dedicated to raising awareness of black artists in Country music. However, Chapman herself has endorsed Combs’ cover and even performed with him in a touching moment at the 2024 Grammys. Chapman, as the sole writer of “Fast Car,” made an estimated $500,000 last year alone from her classic. Chapman is an enigmatic artist who has avoided the spotlight and rarely interprets her own songs. An endorsement and a performance seem to be the highest approval the reclusive singer-songwriter could give. When I first heard Luke Combs’ version of “Fast Car,” I thought it made sense that the song would be a Country hit, though as I listened to Combs singing Chapman’s lyrics, I wondered how a white male could insert himself into the song’s narrative. Who is the speaker? Who is the listener? Chapman’s version parallels the speaker’s lover with her “old man” whom the speaker “quit school” to take care of, though presumably leaves for a better life with a lover who “sees more of the bar than [that person’s] kids.” New York Times Popcast critic Jon Caramanica interviewed former Rolling Stone writer Steve Pond who gave his reaction to Combs’ version: “It’s a great song, and he knows it. That’s why he doesn’t do anything with it. . . . Is there a reason for his version to exist? Not really. . .  But it turns out the reason for it to exist is that moment at the Grammys.” I ask the question too. The song has been covered hundreds of times; why the Combs’ version? Why not the Boyce Avenue version? The Combs’ version seemed to hit at just the right time to resonate with the overworked and the underpaid. Will Chapman’s prophetic words of “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution” resonate next?

    Grammys Performance:


  • In 1946 George Orwell wrote in an essay titled “Politics and the English Language“: “In our age, there is no such thing as ‘keeping out of politics.’ All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred, and schizophrenia.” In my lifetime, there seemed to be a time when we could be ambivalent toward the democratic process. We could sit in our homes on election day in good faith that the majority want the right thing or even stew in our own cynicism that the two candidates were different faces to the same policy. But look at how choice has been effaced. 

    A BEAUTIFUL WAITRESS WHO JUST COULDN’T MAKE IT. The third record by Irish pop-rock band Kodaline titled Politics of Living isn’t an overt political statement, but more of a casual jab at 2018 zeitgeist. Cynical reviewers panned the record as Kodaline’s attempt to enter the U.S. market. The album’s production and song structures do suffer a bit from the “Coldplay effect,” a term that has many definitions that ultimately mean a band imitating Coldplay to the point where their music is indistinguishable from other bands. However, Politics of Living is a bit of a move to the band redefining their sound as their sophomore record Coming Up For Air received the band’s worst reviews, holding a Metacritic rating of 3.9 out of 10. Although the band’s first record In a Perfect World also received mixed reviews, their sound was arguably less derivative. Rather than stepping back into comfortable territory, though, the band pushes forward with EDM and Gospel-inspired tracks. The result is better than the last time, but autotune seems to kill much of the personality in lead singer Steve Garrigan‘s voice.  

    I DON’T KNOW IF IT’S WORTH IT. The fourth promotional single from the record prior to Politics of Living‘s release in September of 2018, “Worth It” is also the fourth track on the record. The band tweeted about the song, how it was originally more of a rock song, and the band decided to pass on it. Producer Jonny Coffer, however, reworked the song, making it fit into the third album’s style. The song is partially inspired by a song by Kygo that featured Kodaline, “Raging.” The anthemic “Worth It,” is a musical contradiction in that most anthemic rock has a positive, definite message. Garrigan, though, brings the energy of an anthem and EDM drop leaving the listener with a question, “Is it worth it?” And Garrigan answers, “I don’t know.” Kodaline’s music is never bleak, but Garrigan also doesn’t shy away from addressing his struggles with mental health in the band’s music. Heck, Chris Martin spent a whole breakup album (Ghost Stories) making their listeners feel better. Listening to Coldplay, OneRepublic, or Imagine Dragons is uplifting. We don’t have to think; we just receive our encouragement like a feel good church service. Kodaline delivers the anthem, but leaves us with a question rather than an answer. 

    Read the lyrics on Genius.


  • Thinking back on when I started my blog back in 2021 feels like a fever dream. In South Korea, social distancing measures were in full effect. Daily Covid infections dramatically started to rise just before Christmas, and it seemed like I’d be wearing a mask until my ears fell off. In 2020, I had spent so much time at home, not really accomplishing much, and in 2021 I wanted to start a new project and stick to it. That project was my blog NewYearsDayProject. Now in the fourth year of the project, posting every day and writing almost every day, it’s hard to remember the thrill of when a new song came out. Now a new song is a stressful choice: do I write about it right away to try to be relevant? If I write about it, I have to push back the song I’ve got planned in my queue. 


    THIS PAIN IS LIKE HAVING A FLU. In 2021, IU released her fifth studio album, Lilac. The album coincided with the coming of spring and her 29th birthday (in Korean age, though the system was abolished last year). IU planned to release an album on which she composed the majority of the songs. She composed the lyrics for 8 of the 10 tracks, though, of the melodies, she only co-wrote 2 of the 10 tracks. Her decision to cut the songs that she wrote by herself was that she wanted Lilac to be a “blockbuster” rather than an “independent film.” The three singles from Lilac feel like pop anthems rather than singer-songwriter ballads for which IU is most famous. The promotional single, “Flu,” today’s song, also has a big pop song structure, with IU’s soprano vocals staying at the upper end of her range before dramatically falling. The instrumentation is light with bird sounds and IU’s vocals filling out the mix. It’s a rhythmic song with a punctuating base.

    I FEEL LIKE I’VE BEEN COMPLETELY DEFEATED. I thought “Flu” was an interesting choice of an album cut, especially during the height of the pandemic. The 2020-2021 flu season was surprisingly absent, although health experts had speculated that the flu and COVID may have competed for patients. That didn’t happen that season, though it happened in subsequent years with a weakened COVID-19 virus. While IU didn’t shoot a full video for “Flu,” only a teaser, in which the singer appears with chapped lips and makeup looking a mess like she has come down with something.  The song may not literally be about getting sick; falling in love seems to be the extended metaphor, complete with denial. It’s a bit upbeat for a song about getting sick. It’s more about being distracted by love rather than being powerless in bed. So as flu season draws to an end for the winter and allergy season is beginning, remember to get enough rest, take your vitamins, and don’t let your heart be too easily distracted. 

  •  

    I’m taking a break from writing this week and just delivering playlists. I don’t have any parasocial commentary on NewJeans. I don’t know much about this group of teenagers and feel too old to relate to it. Their massive 2023 hit “Super Shy” gained critical acclaim around the world and was shortlisted by many critics as a favorite song of the year. Instead, today, we’re looking at the big songs from the last two years and songs that might be big this year. 

    NewJeans has not yet released a song in 2024. Their output in 2023 was impressive. But I thought I would go back to where it all started in posting my Spotify edition of 2024+, with their song “Attention. The 2022 song fits my requirements for songs released within the past two years. The Apple Music edition will come later.  I will also reveal my favorite song from last year at the post’s end!
    1. “Nothing More” by Anberlin. I was iffy on the latest Anberlin EP, Convinced. I still haven’t covered one of the songs. It was certainly interesting. Almost every song was heavier than most of their discography. It also contained the lead single “Lacerate,” which featured lead vocals by guitarist Christian McAlhaney with Stephen Christian only singing backup, blending in with McAlhaney and producer Chad Carruthers who screams in the chores. But that’s a post for another day. The song of the year is the last song on the EP. “Nothing More.” It starts as a synth-driven Anchor & Braille-sounding track. It’s a love song; presumably, Stephen is writing to his wife Julia. “Are you convinced?” seems like a follow-up to 2014’s “Atonement,” the song that Stephen convinced his audience that Anberlin is back together. But then there was the announcement in October that Stephen would be stepping down as touring frontman indefinitely, replaced by Memphis Mayfire singer Matty Mullins. “Nothing More” brings back the classic 6+ minute closer Anberlin is known for. The track builds on its synth foundation. Multiple singers join Stephen on the bridge. The lyrics of the song end receding into a mellow jam session–mood music, almost worshipful. First, a 1975-style saxophone solo plays as the band jams for nearly two minutes before dropping out to a tranquil ocean sound with the “worship” keyboard playing a few more chords. The EP finishes with nearly two minutes of waves lapping on the shore. It’s only a shame that Anberlin didn’t have a more cohesive work for this beautiful song to conclude. I admire Anberlin for taking the risks rather than making their formula album, but I would much rather have had a full Anberlin album with the experiments they put on their two EPs, a few classic-sounding tracks to tie the experiments together, and beautiful songs like “Nothing More” to finish the record. But for all of Convinced’s flaws, the EP ends flawlessly. “Nothing More” concludes my search for the best song of last year because after hearing it, I quite literally thought nothing more could be better than this song. The return of my favorite band, a new sound, and a saxophone!
  • I’m not sick now, but I thought it was a good time to make an Apple Music version of my Sick playlist for the days I don’t want to do anything but stay in bed. Whether it’s lovesick or sick-sick or just sick of your job, I hope that this playlist will give you the strength to get through whatever you need to do. Enjoy it with tea or chicken soup. Get a little extra rest and soon you’ll be back on your feet! Until then just listen to music in bed.
     

  • It was a rainy summer break during my Freshman year of college. I was still driving my ’91 Toyota Corolla, and that was the summer that I binged the first three Copeland albums. It started with 2003’s Beneath Medicine Treethe indie/rock concept album about love and loss. About a month later I bought, 2005’s In Motionwhich was a little more musically diverse. The next year’s Eat, Sleep, Repeatwas closer to musical theater than rock. Each Copeland album had its own unique mood. Today’s song, “Coffee,” comes from Beneath Medicine Tree, which is the most immature of the Copeland albums. Lyricist and singer Aaron Marsh was fine-tuning his craft at writing sappy love songs, and this album’s lyrics tended to be a little too over the top. The song “Coffee” appears as track 9, with a story as cliche as they get–two small-town kids falling in love while talking all night at the diner. The brief brush drum solo toward the end sounds just like coffee shop music. Today, I wanted to share my coffee playlist of mostly mellow tracks to sit with your daily grind. 

  • I’ve broken several traditions I’ve established with my blog. Many of my songs don’t feel like they fit in with a particular season. This year, I didn’t post U2‘s “New Year’s Day” on January 1.  But one tradition that lives on this year is celebrating Cities Day. On February 20, 2007, Anberlin released what many fans claim as their masterpiece, their third album Cities. Today, brush your forelocks aside, and let’s explore the album track-by-track! 

    1. (Début). For about a minute and a half, Anberlin introduces us to a dark world in an instrumental composed of city sound effects and noisy guitars. The song reminds me of Jerry Martin‘s Sim City 4 soundtrack. (Début) leads into “Godspeed.”

    2. “Godspeed” is a pretty jarring song to follow any track, but following yesterday’s sleepy song is especially going to give my listeners a slap in the face. “Godspeed” is a cautionary tale about the rock star lifestyle that has claimed the lives of the band’s heroes. 

    3. “Adelaide.” The transition from “Godspeed” to “Adelaide” is also a strange one. The song reminds me of the pop-punk choruses of bands like The All-American Rejects, whom Anberlin toured with from time to time. Cities was released in late February, and “Adelaide” always reminded me of a spring break anthem. The lyrics, singer Stephen Christian wrote about a tendency he had to become self-absorbed. The band also had a deep love for Australia, so “Adelaide” was a kind of tribute to the city.

    4. “A Whisper & a Clamour” is one of my favorite Anberlin songs. Lyrically, it’s not the most original on the record, but it seems to encapsulate the theme of the record–alienation during the most connected time in history–most succinctly. 
    5. “The Unwinding Cable Car.” While acoustic guitars could be heard on (Début) and brilliantly on “A Whisper & a Clamour,” “The Unwinding Cable Car” is the first time Anberlin wrote an acoustic ballad. It’s kind of a bulky song lyrically, but I believe it was the track that returned the band to Air1 because of the Christian themes in the song. 

    6. “There Is No Mathematics to Love and Loss.” This was the first storytelling song Anberlin attempted. They never played it live until their first farewell tour due to Stephen Christian’s dislike for the song.
    7. “Hello Alone” was one of Anberlin’s heaviest songs up until that point. Mixing the sound of sirens with a guitar, “Hello Alone” builds on the theme of being alone in a heavily populated place. It’s a dark song, but the last line tells us: “For the lesser known / I’m here and there’s hope.”

    8. “Alexithymia” is another slow point in the album. It’s an existential crisis in a song, and a bit anti-climactic after “Hello Alone,” though it serves as the hope of the album, “There’s more to living than being alive,” also the theme to Stephen Christian’s debut novel: Orphan Anything’s Memoirs of a Lesser Known.
    9. “Reclusion” was at one point my least favorite track on the record, but there’s still a lot to like about it. The reference to Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho, the shredding guitar solo, and the unapologetic introversion and frustration with other people make this song one of the most relatable tracks on the record.

    10. “Inevitable.” This is Anberlin’s prom/wedding song. It’s simple. It’s romantic. It features uncredited vocals by Copeland‘s Aaron Marsh. The drums at the end are pretty cool, particularly watching them being recorded on the bonus DVD.
    11. “Dismantle.Repair.” is one of Stephen Christian’s best-written songs. It details falling in love with someone and parting ways. I always thought of it as a spring song and a heavier Goo Goo Dolls song. I thought it could have been on Top 40 stations, except for the guitars which go hard, blaring as if it’s a competition. But that’s what I love about Cities is that it could be a pop record, but the band and producer Aaron Sprinkle make it as heavy as possible for the band in their genre. 

    12. (*Fin). Cities ends with the 8-minute epic (*Fin), a song in which Stephen Christian wrestles with his faith, making sense of stories in his past. I often feel that every song on the record has a city. “Godspeed” is New York, and “Adelaide” is the city in Australia. I think of “A Whisper & a Clamour” being in Paris. (*Fin) is the Dublin. Stephen channels Bono. Bono struggles with his faith throughout U2’s music, and (*Fin) is the song of doubt for Anberlin.”