Stars Hollow – Kind of Hoping | Album Review

Self-Released

Being a DIY band is difficult. Being a DIY emo band is somehow even harder. Despite the razor-thin margins, countless hours spent cooped up in a van, and a career-stalling pandemic, Stars Hollow have managed to make it over a decade by creating a distinct blend of post-hardcore and Midwest emo that combines meaty screams, twinkly guitar parts, and emotionally crushing lyrics. The group’s latest effort, Kind of Hoping, is also their last: a fully realized and completely self-released record that is riffy, loud, and deeply introspective. It is a true swan song, as after this weekend the band will have played their final show and will be put to rest. Even if this weren’t the case, each track of this record drips with a sense of finality that asks you to look at the life you’ve lived and decide if it was the one you wanted.

Throughout their discography, Stars Hollow have consistently written around themes of loss, struggling to find acceptance, and the cyclical nature of trauma. That’s no different on Kind of Hoping, a 35-minute album meant to take you through the kind of mental health episode where you feel like you are falling, just hoping that someone will be there to catch you. By the time you reach the final track, you have been asked to reflect on the nature of your very existence in a way that inspires growth and makes you feel like, even if nobody is there, that you can catch yourself. 

Photo by Anthony Scanga

To put Kind of Hoping into the broader context of Stars Hollow’s entire discography, this record doesn’t necessarily feel like a new era for the band, but rather the culmination of something they’ve been building since their first EP. It all began with Tyler Stodghill, the group’s singer, lead guitarist, and our primary point of view as the audience. The project began as a three-piece but was a rotating cast for the first couple of years before eventually settling in with Andrew Ferren on drums and Em Bussanmas on bass and backing vocals. However, when it came to creating this final album, it became necessary to add a fourth member, and Louie Barlaw (Tiny Voices, Endswell) joined the band to add additional depth to the guitar parts. 

On the band’s debut, I’m Really Not That Upset About It, the trio were blending bouncy emo riffs with raw screamed vocals. This expanded into an even more Midwest emo sound on 2018’s Happy Again, with Stodghill’s vocals sounding much cleaner and more refined. That EP also served as something of a breakthrough for the band as they honed in on powerful hooks that immediately sounded like they were destined to be screamed back by a bunch of folks in a sweaty moshpit in someone’s basement. 

Things really started to blow up for the band with “Tadpole” in 2019, a loud and heartfelt song about wanting to change. Stars Hollow has always been penning strong, deeply emotional lyrics, but this was the first time you could hear the sound of community behind each word, and that came to life as the band toured relentlessly, including a jaunt across the country with fellow emo band Origami Angel. All of this came before their first record, I Want To Live My Life, dropped in 2021 right in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic. This release window meant the band never got to properly tour on this LP they’d been writing for years.

Three years later, Stars Hollow picked themselves up and dusted themselves off with In the Flower Bed, an EP which showed another side of the band with songs like the title track, which eschews screams entirely as the band sings about trying to move on from the past and understand that they are worthy of the space that they take up. It was In The Flower Bed that finally helped me accept my non-binary identity and know that I am allowed to be who I am – that I can kill who I was to become something new. I identified with the record so much that I took the line “I want to kill who I was back then” and made it the title of my poetry chapbook. It changed my life and made me jump at the chance to cover their last record, Kind Of Hoping.

Stars Hollow has always meant a lot to me because I can consistently listen to any song in their discography and find some part of myself reflected. I hear songs like “Catch Me” or “Flip Phone” and relate to their messages of hope in the face of pain and loneliness. “Catch Me” is incredibly relatable for anybody who has always reached out for others, yet never had someone willing to grab them as they fell. The instrumentation adds to this feeling as it begins with Stodghill wailing through some distorted guitar static that adds a sort of underwater sound to each word. It eventually opens up into emo-fueled twinkles and bouncy riffs that would have even the most tame concertgoers ready to grab the mic and scream their heart out.

Flip Phone” recognizes that pain is a privilege and the fact that any of us feel anything is a cornerstone of humanity. The track starts a little slower, building from a single repeating guitar riff into a bouncy drum pattern that lies under one of the few sections of vocals on this record that aren’t screamed. This song explores the idea of having gone through trauma and pain and wanting to reach out to anybody near you while simultaneously being afraid of actually accepting hope and love. Lyrics like “I can’t stand it, I can’t handle the things you could do to me” highlight that when you give yourself to anybody, you are putting yourself in the palm of their hand where one squeeze would shatter you into little glass pieces. Yet despite that, you still need to love, and this song ends with maybe the most powerful lyrics on the entire album as it fades out with “I’m just like you / All and nothing / I am searching / For all in nothing.” There is something distinctly human about accepting that you have to continually drop your shield and open yourself to pain in order to finally break the cycle that you’re stuck in.

Four tracks into the record, lead single “Casper” begins a run that departs from the post-hardcore influences, leaning instead into a Turnover-inspired dark shoegazey sound. The song is named after Stodghill’s cat, who sadly passed away before this song was released. Everybody at some point in their life believed it would be so much easier if you could just live the life of your pet–this song is for those people who just want to get away from the pain of existence. On the Beers With The Bands podcast, Stodghill described it as a “coworker song” that anybody could enjoy as it departs from the traditional Stars Hollow post-hardcore screams. 

With this album, Stars Hollow have created a space where it’s okay to struggle and, in doing so, remind you that you aren’t alone in your feelings. The song “Play Pretend” begins through my headphones, and I am back again sitting in my childhood bedroom practicing my smile so nobody looks past it to see the lack of light in my eyes. This song is also a bit of a departure from Stars Hollow’s traditional sound as it leans more pop-punk but is still reminiscent of Armor For Sleep and other post-hardcore bands. It carries more clean vocals than other tracks and has a high-pitched guitar playing throughout the entire song, almost like a siren that gives a strong sense of urgency, amplified by the steady drumbeat pounded out by Andrew Ferren.

A similar emotion hits me during “Blue Heron,” and I realize that I have been trying so hard for so long to, as the lyrics put it, “make the best of broken wings.” I think we all want to be better, to wake up every day and feel like we are where we are meant to be, and that feeling is omnipresent across the album. Stars Hollow asks you to look at your life and make the best of it, not in spite of the parts that suck, but because of them. This is one of the louder tracks on Kind of Hoping, and it has a plodding guitar that makes the meaty screams from both Stodghill and Em Bussanmas stand tall despite the soundwall around them. It is a perfect moshpit song that will have emo kids around the world dancing, especially with its pauses toward the end that feel like you’re being punched in the brain as the band expertly punctuates explosions of sound and screams with silence for a nice little beatdown passage to close things out. 

The third song that departs from that post-hardcore style is “Taunt,” which leans heavily into a more emo sound. Even when the song opens up, it remains gentle and sounds exactly like the feeling of depression. For me, “Taunt” is the eye of the storm, which fits perfectly as the midpoint of Kind of Hoping

Entering the final stretch of the album, “Ult” begins with a spoken part that wouldn’t feel out of place in a La Dispute song before it explodes into a wall of sound that threatens to drown out the wails of both Stodghill and Bussanmas. This song sticks out to me because I am a “survivor,” and I have always felt so unattached to the word even though, by definition, it's true. I feel like I am stuck carrying around baggage that nobody cares to learn about. Nobody looks at me and sees the past, and it leads me to being consistently invalidated for my experiences, and it means so much to hear that I am not the only person on earth who feels like this.

Stars Hollow doesn’t give you answers but rather closes the album with questions on “Over.” I’m not sure if the band knew this would be their final release when they were recording it, but, regardless, this track has a strong sense of finality to it. The music is slower and more intentional than almost all the rest of the record. Throughout the closing track, listeners are asked to think about how they have lived their life. The most impactful questions for me are in the second verse when Stodgehill asks, “If you could feel the things you never felt / if you could guarantee you’d still be held / what would it change about the way / you hold your weight?” This song, like all things, inevitably ends after all the lyrics pass. The instrumental plays out until that too fades and you are left with nothing other than the sound of your own breathing. 

Photo by Anthony Scanga

After all the reflection this album asks of you, it is worth asking if you are on the path to becoming who you want to be. Even though all my bad decisions and tough moments play “over and over and over again” in my head, I don't regret my mistakes and the pain that I have felt because it led me to this moment telling you about some songs I love. This album makes me want to be a better version of myself and gives me a hope I always fear that I will lose. 

Coming into this review, I had a lot on my mind and have since moved halfway across the country on my own. I was struggling to make changes and accept that some things must be temporary. A lot of that feeling went away when I sat in my living room and listened to this record for the first time. I finally felt seen for the first time in a long time. 

This band’s final act is going to inspire a generation of artists to pick up a guitar and start exploring their feelings on a notepad. Even if those people never play a show or record a piece of music, that exploration is inherently good. The fact that this band was able to survive as long as they have while the members led full lives is an incredible act of fortitude and goes to show that you can have a life in music without making it your entire life. 

Stars Hollow now must go into the same flowerbed that they once sang about as their time comes to an end–however, from the corpse will grow gorgeous flowers that will remain for future generations. The lessons and memories will forever be etched into the same dirt in which they are buried.


Ben Parker is a writer, poet, and student affairs administrator located in Colorado. They have been a minor niche internet celebrity, performed with multiple of their favorite bands, and been lucky to have made friends across the country.

Stars Hollow – In the Flower Bed | EP Review

Acrobat Unstable Records

Emo has come a long way in the three years since Stars Hollow's last release. Whatever phase of emo we’re in these days—5th wave, post-emo, whatever—Stars Hollow is back for more existential jams and tasty riffs with their third EP, In the Flower Bed.

In general, the genre we’ve come to sometimes ironically call “emo” has come a long way since this photo.

All but two of the bands featured in this photo have largely faded into the ether, for some reasons worse than others. That speaks volumes about the volatile nature of this genre as a whole. After their first full-length LP in 2021, the future of Stars Hollow was up in the air. Too fresh off a global pandemic to properly tour, the trio spent the intervening years working on their careers, pursuing higher education, and discovering themselves. Letting their body of work speak for itself, the band reformed three years later, ready to take another swing at it. Leaning back on the short form of their earlier releases, the group has reemerged with a collection of songs that pick right back up where they left off. 

From the introductory first track, the Iowa-based trio kicks off the EP as if they never left, jumping right back into the exact type of morbid lyricism we've come to love from the band. Continuing the grotesquely dark themes found in the rest of the Stars Hollow discography, vocalist Tyler Stodghill beckons, “I’m laying out / the clothes I’ll be buried in.” The EP’s minute-long commencement sets the stage for the themes of rejuvenation found throughout the following four tracks.

If I were to boil Stars Hollow down to just a few things, it'd be 1) twinkly-ass emo riffs, 2) a penchant for the above-mentioned dark lyricism, and 3) punctual tracks. The band’s latest EP features five songs, only one of which is over two and a half minutes. This is something that I love from music in general, no matter the artist. My internet-fried Gen Z brain can’t withstand tracks longer than four minutes, and Stars Hollow almost always deliver on this front. With In The Flower Bed, the band manages to pack meaningful lyrics and crowd-swirling riffs into two-minute windows that keep everything feeling effective, emotive, and impactful.

Despite its 10-minute run time, the band is able to get across their message loud and clear. Crafted as a concept EP about the complicated relationship we hold with our past selves, the tacks seem to swap back and forth between Stoghill’s “who I was back then” and himself in present day. Hindsight is always 20/20, and it’s difficult not to be frustrated with your past self when looking back and all the mistakes are in plain sight. This EP challenges that notion by shifting it into a positive one. Rather than throwing out who he once was, Stoghill is burying it out back and watching it grow. 

The band also delivers on their signature twinkly emo sound throughout the EP. For example, track two, “Thorns,” starts with a bouncy intro akin to what we hear on their 2019 single, “Tadpole.” It’s patently Stars Hollow and a warm way to welcome fans back into the band’s world. 

Twinkle shredding is all well and good, but that’s also not all we find on the EP. Track four, ”Sickening,” finds the band at their heaviest since their debut EP, I’m Really Not That Upset About It. On this song, Stars Hollow enters their Sempiternal era, ending the track on a breakdown paired with a glitched-out scream that feels very 2013 metalcore in the best way. The track also features some of the darkest lyricism on an already dread-filled EP, with Stodghill at one point shouting, “It hurts to not tell you / I want to crack my fucking skull / on pavement.” The group follows up on that heaviness with one of their softest tracks ever, in the form of their closing title track, “In the Flower Bed.” This juxtaposition makes for a quaint ending to the release that also recounts the overall themes of the EP. 

In the Flower Bed places the listener out in the garden, with many of the tracks about burying what once was yet still valuing that person, place, or time in the past for what they contributed. Throughout these five songs, there are various times where Stodghill mentions killing who he was back then, a sentiment listeners are encouraged to take as literally or figuratively as they want. However, the album lands softly in the end, wrapping up with the line, “sinking slowly / never lonely / in the flower bed.” 

Despite its sometimes graphic lyricism, In The Flower Bed fosters a space of growth, optimism, and reconciliation. Just because something is emo doesn’t mean it has to be hopeless. As the band walks us through these anguished sentiments, brutal lyrics, and knotty riffs, this EP is ultimately about burying your past self to forge a better future. Sometimes, you have to work through the dark stuff to reach the fresh start that’s waiting on the other side. 

The final track ends fittingly with a soft callback to the band's 2018 EP, Happy Again. Echoes of the band’s older lyrics float around the listener, with some distant, younger version of Stodghill singing, “I’m the not same / I’ll be happy again.” For just a moment, these two selves exist simultaneously, briefly acknowledging one another before the song fades to black, leaving us in the flower bed, present day, with nothing but boundless options before us. 


Brandon Cortez is a writer/musician residing in El Paso, Texas, with his girlfriend and two cats. When not playing in shitty local emo bands, you can find him grinding Elden Ring on his second cup of cold brew. Find him on Twitter @numetalrev.

Swim Into The Sound's 15 Favorite Albums of 2021

I hate to always start these with a gloomy intro paragraph, but I’ll be real; 2021 has been hard. In some ways, harder than 2020. While many of us spent last year hunkered down and reeling from a global pandemic, this year has been far more undefinable. We’re nearing a million dead from COVID here in the US, and the government response has essentially boiled down to a shrug. At least last year, it felt like we were all in this together. 

For me, 2021 has been a year of breakups, burnouts, and overall bummers. As we sit on the brink of another outbreak with collective “pandemic fatigue,” I’m beginning to think that we’re never getting out of this. It seems that, when faced with two options, most people will opt for the one that helps them and them alone. Either that or people are so far down their individualistic rabbit holes that they can’t see the forest for the trees. It’s been a debilitating and demoralizing season, but I’m still here, and so are you. 

As with most other years, music was a shining bright spot in my life that helped me through each and every day. Whether consoling, comforting, or just helping me forget about the outside world for a few minutes, there were plenty of albums this year that I found peace in. These albums have been my oasis. The safe space that allowed me to weather the storm and make sense of it all. They’ve soundtracked moments of joyous exhilaration and crushing loss. No matter what they sound like, these are the albums that have helped me through a very dark, very long, very hard year. 

Despite how dour I sound and how paralyzed I feel, I am thankful to be here and grateful that I get to experience works of art such as these. Here are my 15 favorite albums of the year. 


15 | Wild Pink - A Billion Little Lights

Royal Mountain Records

For the better part of the last decade, Wild Pink have been carefully fleshing out their own corner of the musical world with loving brushstrokes. Sometimes those brushstrokes would be long, vibrant streaks like 2018’s Yolk in the Fur, and other times they would be shorter dispatches like an EP here, or a random Taylor Swift cover there. Throughout 2021, the heartland indie rockers seemed hellbent on adding more onto their canvas than ever before. Released in February, A Billion Little Lights is a searching album that conjures the awe-inspiring feelings of a drive through America’s heartland. The sun shines down upon you as you feel the wind in your hair and take in the vast expanse before you. The amber-coated fields of grain contrast the cloudless blue skies, and you feel at home, even though you’re hundreds of miles away from everything you’ve ever known. That’s what listening to A Billion Little Lights is like. Supported throughout the year by a tour, an EP, some covers, a live album, and capped off by an excellent single, there has never been a better or more rewarding year to live within the world crafted by John Ross & co.


14 | The Antlers - Green To Gold

Anti-

Some albums capture the frigid landscape of winter. Others embody the celebratory warmth of summer. While I love those types of albums, I’ve never heard a record capture the transition between seasons quite like Green To Gold. With dreamy lounge piano, vibrant steel guitar, and expansive instrumental stretches, The Antlers’ sixth studio album (and first in seven years) sees the band at a transitionary period too. Conceived and written almost entirely in the morning hours, the band’s latest is, as lead singer Peter Silberman puts it, “the first album I’ve made that has no eeriness in it.” He went on to elaborate, “I set out to make Sunday morning music.” Despite this aversion to darkness, everything about Green To Gold, from its title to the songs contained within it, is about the liminal spaces of life. And when you really think about it, aren’t those in-between moments are more compelling anyway? It’s easy to paint life with binaries, but the truth is more often somewhere in the middle. What’s really telling of who you are as a person is what you do to swing out of those periods and move between them. What do you do when you don’t know what to do? For The Antlers, the answer lies within this record. 

Just as Green To Gold soundtracked our world’s unthawing, the recently-released Losing Light captures our yearly withdrawal. Slower, darker, and released at the perfect time in the depths of November, the EP is a worthy addendum to the band’s latest record that makes it feel like a living, breathing piece of art. 


13 | Good Sleepy - everysinglelittlebit

No Sleep Records

everysinglelittlebit begins like a dream. As the album’s introductory track unfolds, it feels as if you’re making your way through a dense, moss-covered forest. Thick fog fills the air, carrying disembodied voices that swirl around the outer reaches of your perception, and suddenly everything drops out at once with “suffokate.” It’s like one of those trapping pits where hunters cover the opening in branches and leaves. You set foot onto it, shift your weight, and suddenly find yourself in a freefall. The song hits you like a punch to the gut, combining jittery guitarwork with a tight rhythm section and weighty shout-along vocals. Despite this bombastic sequencing, the tracklist does a good job of giving the listener a chance to catch their breath every once in a while, only to sap it away with the next track. Good Sleepy spend the duration of their debut album grappling with overwrought emotions, complicated relationships, and the idea of emotional self-sustainability. The instrumentals are tight and punchy, settling in at a middle ground somewhere between Stars Hollow and Ogbert The Nerd. The end result is an album with the nervous energy of speeding down the highway while chugging a Red Bull on your way to a basement gig. I know with everysinglelittlebit of myself that we’ll all be back there soon.


12 | Alien Boy - Don’t Know What I Am

Get Better Records

Don’t Know What I Am plays out like the soundtrack to a long-lost ​​mid-90s coming-of-age teen comedy. I’m not even talking about that made-for-TV trash, I’m talking top-of-the-line teen dramedies like Heathers and 10 Things I Hate About You. The kind of movies that culminate in a house party and always know when to bust out a peppy pop-punk tune. I suppose that would make “The Way I Feel” the scene-setting opening credits song that would play as we swoop into some bustling high school and meet our main characters. Throughout the record, the Portland rockers do an excellent job of introducing themselves to the audience, guiding them along this emotional journey, and pulling on our heartstrings with expertly-crafted hooks fit for 90s alt radio. The instrumentals are dripping in fuzzy shoegaze feedback that borrows equal parts from power pop and emo. Best listened to loud af, Don’t Know What I Am tackles topics of self-discovery, partnership, and queerness. More than anything, this record sounds like unrepentant love. It sounds like teenage adoration. It sounds like finding someone who loves you for who you are. This is the way things should have always been and should always be. It’s love the way you always wanted. 


11 | Lucy Dacus - Home Video

Matador Records

Home Video hurts to listen to. Not just because it’s a collection of raw feelings and confessional songs, but because it was released as my relationship was crumbling in real-time. I usually try to not inject too much of my personal life on here (much less in an AOTY countdown), but this album’s pain feels intertwined with my own. The songs of unfit pairings, longing, and heartbreak mirror the feelings I’ve experienced this year. Home Video is a hard album to listen to, but even still, I can’t deny its mastery. This record delivers everything I loved about 2018’s Historian and makes it even more approachable. There are still killer guitar solos, anthemic choruses, and aching balladry, but Dacus seems even more sure of herself. These pleasant qualities help dislodge these songs from the hurt. This record may still be hard for me to listen to, but a few years down the line, I can’t wait to revisit this release from a new perspective and ride alongside in Dacus’ passenger seat, taking in the world.


10 | Stars Hollow - I Want to Live My Life

Acrobat Unstable Records

Like most emo records, the debut album from Stars Hollow sees our narrator coming face to face with their faults. The key difference between I Want to Live My Life and most other emo records is that we actually accompany our hero on their journey towards self-betterment. While other releases of this genre lament not being able to get the girl or dig yourself out of a rut, I Want to Live My Life rolls up its sleeves and actually does the hard work. This means is that the listener experiences every phase of this journey as the band works their way from merely maintaining to striving to achieve something more. It’s a beautiful and true human experience captured in a compelling 25-minute run time.

Read our full review of I Want to Live my Life here.


9 | Fiddlehead - Between the Richness

Run For Cover Records

While Springtime & Blind was an album mired in death, Between the Richness is an album about life. Specifically, about the things that define a life. Inspired by lead singer Patrick Flynn’s experience as a recent father, the album uses his newfound perspective to unflinchingly capture the things that define us early on. Childhood friendships, mentors, conflicting emotions, growing apart, and academic expectations are all topics that inform the songs here. This all builds to an album-length collage that mirrors the building blocks most of us are comprised of.

After many, many, many repeated listens of Between the Richness, there’s one thing that always sticks in my mind. After all the dust has settled; after the EE Cummings poem, the Latin passages, and the obituary readings, one lyric always rattles around in my brain for hours on end; “How do I say goodbye?” Like many other lines on the album, it’s belted in a near-scream by Flynn, but is swaddled in a melody that can get stuck in your head for hours… and therein lies the beauty of Fiddlehead. Complicated articulations of even more complicated feelings delivered in a cathartic way that not only makes sense but makes you want to join in.


8 | Mannequin Pussy - Perfect

Epitaph

Punk music was never meant to be indulgent, and no release this year proved that more than Mannequin Pussy’s Perfect. A compact collection of five songs weighing in at a collective 14-minute runtime, this might be (pardon my pun) the perfect punk album… or at the very least, the best distillation of Mannequin Pussy’s range of sounds. “Control” is the ultra-relatable lead single, “Perfect” is the burn-it-all-down punk cut, and “To Lose You” is the soaring lovelorn middle child. Beyond that trifecta, “Pigs Is Pigs” is a bass-led hardcore sucker-punch with a vital message immediately contrasted with “Darling,” the EPs solitary closing ballad. Perfect is a full range of emotions captured in a rapid-fire montage of rage, love, injustice, hate, loneliness, and adoration. There’s simply nothing more you could ask for. 


7 | Cory Hanson - Pale Horse Rider

Drag City Inc

In my mind, Pale Horse Rider is a concept album. It’s a record about a cowboy riding an undead skeletal horse to the psychedelic depths of hell. The reason isn’t entirely clear, but odds are he’s going to rescue the girl from a hulking demonic behemoth. It’s like a Robert Rodriguez film, but way more laid back. Or maybe Evil Dead if the characters cracked a few less jokes. It’s Dante’s Inferno in a western setting. 

The title track is an early tent poll that plays out like the would-be movie’s title card. From there, we wind from the desert-like desolation of “Necklace” to the epic battle portrayed as a guitar solo on “Another Story From the Center of the Earth.” Even the celebratory moments like “Limited Hangout” are carried out after acknowledging how arduous the journey has been. “Sometimes it's so hard not to feel like a corpse Dragging a soul on two broken wheels / I have often felt the edges of my body trying to escape,” Hanson bemoans before picking up a drink. It’s a nice little moment of lightness that still acknowledges the dark reality we often find ourselves in.

With Hanson as our ferryman, he guides us through the voyage with crystalline pedal steel, rumbling cowboy drums, and jangly campfire acoustic guitar. Despite the macabre theme and overall mood, the release closes out with a sunny disposition on “Pigs,” which plays out like the final credits after we’ve clawed our way back to the surface of the earth. In true old west fashion, the album leaves you ready for another pulpy expedition, but not before celebrating with a stiff drink.


6 | Jail Socks - Coming Down

Counter Intuitive Records

When I listen to Coming Down, I hear Jail Socks, but I also hear my childhood. I hear my first collection of CDs like Sum 41, Good Charlotte, and Simple Plan. I hear candy-coated pop-rock with immaculate hooks and catchy choruses that mask a more profound layer of emotions lying just beneath the surface. Essentially an album about the comedown of youth, the band’s debut album builds off the foundation laid out in their 2019 EP and draws influence from 90s alt-rockers like Third Eye Blind and Jimmy Eat World. From outright rippers like “Peace of Mind” and “Point Point Pleasant” to more pensive moments found on “Pale Blue Light” and “More Than This,” the band explores a dazzling range of early-20-something lamentations on this record. Already my most-listened-to album of 2021, I know that Coming Down will be an album I’ll return to for many years to come. 

Read our full review of Coming Down here.


5 | The World Is A Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die - Illusory Walls

Epitaph

An 80-minute post-emo, post-hardcore, post-rock album about the social, moral, and ideological rot of late-stage capitalism? AND it’s all passed through a conceptual Dark Souls filter? I am in. There’s simply no amount of hyperbole I could pack into this introduction that would do Illusory Walls justice, so I’ll just say that this was one of the most impactful first listens I’ve had with an album in years. The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die are perhaps best known for being forebears of the 2010s Emo Revival. Famous for their long name and even longer list of band members, everything about Illusory Walls seems counter to their previous work. It’s a darker, fiercer, and more focused album that was conceived amongst the group’s (now core) five members. 

While the singles range from a mixture of The Anniversary and Broken Social Scene on “Queen Sophie For President” and heavy metal riffage on “Invading the World of the Guilty as a Spirit of Vengeance,” the group rounds out distant corners of their universe on songs like “We Saw Birds Through the Hole in the Ceiling” and “Your Brain is a Rubbermaid.” The cherry on top of this album comes with the one-two punch of its closing tracks. Both the 16-minute “Infinite Josh” and the 20-minute “Fewer Afraid” are absolutely jaw-dropping tracks that are guaranteed to inflict goosebumps upon any listeners who might take them in with an open heart. While “Infinite Josh” is built around a post-rock build and steadfast bassline, “Fewer Afraid” is a career highlight manifesto complete with a spoken-word passage and philosophical sentiments. The latter of these two songs evoked an actual joy-filled scream from me upon first listen when the band broke out into an interpolation of my favorite song of theirs from nearly a decade earlier. 

Over the course of this album’s final 36 minutes, the group touches on topics like death, the passage of time, religion, and the desire to make the world a better place. It’s inspiring, cosmically-affirming, and downright staggering. In one of the record’s most profound lines, friend of the band Sarah Cowell sings,

You cry at the news, I just turn it off
They say there's nothing we can do and it never stops
You believe in a god watching over
I think the world's fucked up and brutal
Senseless violence with no guiding light
I can't live like this, but I'm not ready to die

Even if you aren’t a fan of this band or emo as a whole, Illusory Walls is a boundless work that shatters nearly every preconceived notion one might have about the possibilities of this genre—an extraordinary feat of the medium.


4 | Japanese Breakfast - Jubilee

Dead Oceans

Michelle Zauner has had a hard couple of years. After the dissolution of her previous band and the death of her mother, Zauner coped the best way musicians know how: by creating. She recoiled into grief over the series of several Bandcamp EPs, culminating in 2016’s phenomenal Psychopomp. She processed her loss in the outer reaches of space with 2017’s Soft Sounds From Another Planet and then took a few years to explore her creative whims. She recorded some covers, did some collabs, and even wrote a damn book. This is all to say that Zauner has kept busy, and after plumbing the depths of sorrow for nigh on five years, she has earned herself a bit of joy. Enter Jubilee

Japanese Breakfast’s aptly-titled third album finds Zauner basking in vibrant colors, biting into a sweet persimmon, and allowing herself a cautious bit of happiness. “Paprika” sifts through the rubble, eventually uncovering a triumphant parade of love. This leads directly into “Be Sweet,” which is a downright untouchable anthem that deserves nothing less than to be sung at the top of your lungs while bouncing around in pure revelry. This is not to say Jubilee is all good vibes; the album’s happiness is also tempered with plenty of realism and darkness found in songs like “Posing In Bondage” and “Savage Good Boy.” Just as there will always be loneliness and shitty men even in life’s best moments, Jubilee acknowledges the presence of good alongside the bad. It’s a complete spectrum of emotions that all cement in the epic six-minute slow-burn closer “Posing For Cars.” Michelle Zauner will not be defined by her grief nor her happiness. She is a complete human with a planet’s worth of emotions contained within. Jubilee is merely Zauner’s attempt at capturing that ever-shifting mix of feelings. It’s a rush.


3 | Turnstile - Glow On

Roadrunner Records Inc.

Before Turnstile even announced Glow On, the band’s four-song Turnstile Love Connection had already made its way onto my album of the year shortlist. On Turnstile’s third studio album, the band builds off their summer sample platter (and excellent visualization) into an expanded world of pink cloud hardcore punk. One spin of the album’s opening call to action, and it’s easy to see the appeal; muscular guitar riffs, exhilarating instrumentals, and catchy scream-along lyrics are all things the group has mastered now over a decade into their career. 

Months ago, I saw someone online describe the album as “pop-punk,” and I have become obsessed with that descriptor. Glow On isn’t pop-punk in the frosted tips Sum 41 sense of the term but in a much more literal interpretation of those two words. This is hardcore punk music made in a poppy, approachable way. This is radio rock that can deadlift hundreds of pounds and throw up a 6-minute mile no problem. If this album doesn’t want to make you take flight, then quite frankly, nothing will.


2 | Wednesday - Twin Plagues

Orindal Records

How many of us have experienced Twin Plagues over the last year? The loss of a family member and the loss of a job. A life-threatening accident and a breakup. Bad news following already bad news. Sometimes these things just overlap, and when they do, they compound, making each feel worse in the process. Add a climate crisis, political regression, and a pandemic on top of it, and you’ll find that one section of your brain has been passively worrying for the last two years, if not longer.

Twin Plagues is an album full of these dual-wielding worries, contrasted against midwest mundanities. NFL teams, burned-down fast food buildings, high school acid trips, family photos, and dead pets are brought up and passed by like a roadside attraction that nobody wants to stop the car for. While nondescript on paper, these observations are rendered beautifully within the album, set to an instrumental backdrop that ranges from fuzzed-out shoegaze to wistful slide guitar.

This record captures these overlapping plagues and offers a surprising amount of compassion to the emotionally rung-out listener. It’s the sound of multiple major life events converging on you at once, all while the world outside continues to spin onward. It’s the sound of catastrophe happening while you find yourself caught in the eye of the storm. 

That said, there’s still escape and comfort to be found here. Twin Plagues may not offer a solution, but in a way, it offers something better; solidarity. It provides the knowledge that you are not alone. It quells your mind with the fact that there are other people out there experiencing the same thing, and, despite how it may seem, we are stronger together than anything the world can throw at us individually. And if you’ve made it this far? If you’ve weathered those Twin Plagues or you doubt that you have the strength to do so, then look no further than the affirmative first words of the album: you are fearless


1 | Home is Where - I Became Birds

Knifepunch Records

If I were to describe I Became Birds with one word, it would be electrifying. There are tons of things you can compare Home Is Where to: Neutral Milk Hotel, Bob Dylan, and your favorite local punk band, just to name a few. But simply put, this band is unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. As a collection of songs, I Became Birds is all of those sounds and influences packed into a magnificent 19 minutes that strikes my soul like a bolt of lightning. With poetic and visceral lyrics that capture the trans experience, these songs tackle important and seldom-discussed topics like body dysmorphia and self-discovery in inventive and affirming ways. The band also touches on rustic backcountry sentiments, the desire to pet puppies, and presidential assassinations throughout the album’s blistering fast runtime. 

Back in March, I described the release as a rickety roller coaster, and I stand by that. Every time I give this record a listen, I half expect it to collapse under the weight of itself. This is even reflected in the band’s live performances as lead singer Bea MacDonald leaps, screams, shouts, wails, and collapses as the songs unfold. The guitars sway, tap, and shred with a fiery passion, floating just above the propulsive rhythm section, which alternates between gently guiding the songs forward and putting the pedal to the metal, forcing them into a careening full-tilt. Throw in some harmonica, synth, horns, violin, group chants, and a singing saw, and you have an honest, revelatory, and elating experience that also makes for the best album of 2021.

The Best of May 2021

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Easily the most stacked month of 2021 thus far, May saw oodles of emo, heaping helpings of punk, and even a few fantastic folk releases. Of course, we also threw in some blues and metalcore for good measure, plus an actual grunge album to top it all off.


Stars Hollow - I Want to Live My Life

Acrobat Unstable

Acrobat Unstable

The Iowa emo trio moves from licking their wounds on Happy Again and arrested development on “Tadpole” to active progress on their debut album. Capturing equal parts self-discovery, self-destruction, and self-improvement, I Want to Live My Life is one person’s journey from passive complacency to active betterment. This story is soundtracked by tappy guitar licks, emotive screams, and killer drum fills. As the listener stitches together the threads connecting each song, putting the pieces together results in one of the most satisfying emo experiences this year. 

Read our full review of I Want to Life My Life here.


NATL PARK SRVC - The Dance

Self-released

Self-released

The Dance sounds like mid-aughts “classic” indie rock in the best way possible. Seven members deep, complete with a horn section and occasional strings, NATL PARK SRVC sounds like they could have opened for Arcade Fire or Broken Social Scene at the peak of those band’s respective Pitchfork-fueled successes. The Dance feels like a hidden gem you’d stumble across in a record store circa-2003 and would obsess over for years. It sounds like the cassette you’d find in the car of your best friend’s cooler older brother and would have an immediate respect for based on that association alone. This is a high-flying, highly-polished indie rock album that arrives to us fully formed. While the record comes with familiar trappings, it feels like NATL PARK SRVC have already carved out their own corner of the world in just 48 minutes and 7 seconds. 


The Black Keys - Delta Kream

Nonesuch Records

Nonesuch Records

I’ve been a fan of The Black Keys for as long as they’ve been around. In retrospect, picturing myself as a pre-teen listening to Junior Kimbrough covers and songs like “Grown So Ugly” is objectively hilarious but made all the sense in the world as an accompaniment to my rabid White Stripes fandom. Watching the band evolve from sleazy, sloppy garage rock into a poppier and poppier version of themselves has been one of the great displeasures of my music listening career. That said, I don’t begrudge the band for chasing success, even if it means becoming synonymous with car commercial music in the process. 

On Delta Kream, The Black Keys genuinely get back to their roots with 11 covers of blues greats ranging from R. L. Burnside to John Lee Hooker. This record captures my favorite version of the band; it’s the one that I first fell in love with and one that I never thought we’d see again. The guitar tone is muddy, the vocals are mumbled, and the songs feel like they have space to breathe. This album is a direct contrast to 2019’s “Let’s Rock”, which feels like a collection of blues-rock songs that were bitten by a radioactive Subaru Outback. Delta Kream may not get a sold-out tour or million-dollar placements in commercials, but I’m glad it exists, and I know I’m not alone. 


Smol Data - Inconvenience Store

Open Door Records

Open Door Records

As explained by the band themselves on Twitter, Inconvenience Store is a collection of songs about the “insane little art community you made the center of your universe as a teenager.” More specifically, the album is about aging out of that community and trying to figure out where the hell you’re supposed to go next. That’s a pretty universal experience every music-adjacent creative feels growing up, and the songs reflect that universality whether it’s through the poppy hums of “Salaried (Bankruptcy Eve)” or the ska-flavored “Bitch Store.” The record stakes out a space that melds the personable, eccentric indie-pop of Illuminati Hotties with the wholistic world-building of Glass Beach, and that is a Venn diagram I can one-hundred percent get behind. 


Just Friends - JF Crew, Vol. 2

Pure Noise Records

Pure Noise Records

Just Friends is serotonin in audio form. Just Friends is pure adrenaline packed with a punch of love, acceptance, and good vibes. Following an excellent three-pack of songs from earlier this year, the band is back with another stack of fun-loving funk-rock tunes. Opening track “Sizzle” is a 100-mile-per-hour banger that sees lead singers Sam Kless and Brianda "Brond" Goyos Leon vivaciously trading bars. As Brond delivers a series of spitfire boasts with Sam as her hypeman, the song eventually breaks down into a stank-face-inducing stoner rock riff. The grooviness doesn’t stop there because this opener gives way to a Lil B remix and a fantastic No Doubt cover in the proceeding tracks. Three songs, no misses. With this EP, Just Friends once again prove that they are a reliable supplier of feel-good ass-shakin’ tunes… as if there was ever any doubt.


The Devil Wears Prada - ZII

Solid State Records

Solid State Records

Back in 2010, The Devil Wears Prada were riding high. They had just released (arguably) the best album of their career one year prior, then they dropped a zombie-themed EP at the undeniable height of the early-aughts zombie zeitgeist. Aside from being a collection of six fantastic songs, in retrospect, it’s impressive how well the band was able to strike while the iron was hot. The Walking Dead was just revving up on TV, the video game world was inundated with games like Left 4 Dead and Call Of Duty, and films like Zombieland were doing gangbusters at the box office. Over the next decade, the band became a little shakier. They got heavier and darker with Dead Throne in 2011, they lost a founding member in 2012, and then released the middling 8:18 in 2013. The group seemed to be righting the ship in 2015 with Space EP, a similarly committed concept EP about the dangers lurking in the sci-fi corners of space. One year later, they delivered the massively underrated Transit Blues in 2016, then released the somehow even more underrated The Act in 2019. With ZII, the band is signaling that they’ve finally returned to the heights they achieved over a decade ago. 

The Devil Wears Prada may have undergone lineup changes and indulged in new sounds that didn’t always pay off, but now they are venturing back into the zombie world they began to flesh out back in 2010, and this time it’s not a gimmick. The band is able to pick up right where they left off on the first Zombie EP as if the intervening years happened in the blink of an eye. The band sounds as sharp, and the screams sound as ferocious as they did a decade ago. The lyrics faithfully stick close to the horror theme but still leave room for compelling narratives and bits of songwriting to occur without being overshadowed by a sense of novelty. For those who have been “tuning out” of the metalcore scene for the last few years, this EP is an appeal directly to you. For most fans, it was clear that the band was achieving new artistic heights with their last full-length, but this EP is an affirmation. It’s a signal to grab your old metalcore tee out of the closet and break it out one last time for 2010’s sake. 


Mannequin Pussy - Perfect

Epitaph Records

Epitaph Records

Mannequin Pussy are masters of the punk craft, and with each release, the band’s skills have only sharpened. The group’s newest EP, Perfect, is a five-song master class in the punk genre. The emotions have become more fierce but also more controlled. The choruses have become catchier but don’t forfeit their deep-rooted rage. Every type of Mannequin Pussy song is represented here. “Control” hones in the poppier chorus-driven side of the band’s spectrum, “Perfect” is the fast, thrashy punk song, and “To Lose You” is the mid-tempo rocker that pulls at your heartstrings ever so slightly. While each track is fantastic in its own right, the two biggest surprises come at the tail end of the release.

Pigs Is Pigs” sees Missy handing vocal duties over to bassist Colins "Bear" Regisford for a Turnstile-esque track that tackles police brutality. Based on Ellis Parker Butler’s short story of the same name, “Pigs Is Pigs” encapsulates an all-cops-are-bad-narrative by illustrating how bureaucratic, systematic violence by the cops will never truly end by weeding out the “bad apples” and calling it a day. Bear uses this short story as an analogy for the dire need to defund the police as well as the ideology and policy set during the days of slave patrolling which formed the force from the inside out. As policing has become more assertive, expansive, and militaristic, the techniques have become more violent, punitive, and discriminatory, leading to extreme cycles of violence and death. Furthermore, as the rules behind policing become more violent and fascist, the general public has continued to fear the cops and act within privileged safety nets. On this song, Bear reminds the listener that these rules ascribed to us are only disguised as “right” to hide the violence and injustice behind them. This challenges all of us to decide what is actually right. Is the pervasive narrative good for your community and humanity, or are you just listening to what you’re being told? Mannequin Pussy tells us to pick a side: fear or fight. 

Closing track “Darling” is a soft-spoken confessional ballad with an electronic beat, understated guitar, and even delicate bells which carry the release out. Over its 14 minutes, Perfect sees hardened punk perfection slowly unraveling to reveal a tender core. Closing out a rager of an EP with a muted love song follows the sentimental theme found on the closing track of 2019’s Patience, and it is as poignant as it is lovely. 


Fiddlehead - Between the Richness

Run For Cover Records

Run For Cover Records

When Fiddlehead dropped their debut album back in 2018, I went in completely blind. I hadn’t heard the band’s ep from three years prior; I wasn’t even familiar with the member’s other projects, Have Heart or Basement. Nevertheless, I checked the record out solely because Springtime and Blind was being put out on Run For Cover, and that was a label I trusted implicitly. My trust paid off, and that album became my favorite of 2018

After a brief pitstop in 2019, Fiddlehead is back with another 25 minutes of careening and grief-ridden post-hardcore. While Springtime and Blind saw lead singer Patrick Flynn reckoning with his father’s death, Between the Richness is a markedly more optimistic record about centering yourself and finding peace in between the ambivalent chaos of life. While Between The Richness may be more uplifting, that doesn’t mean the band has made a complete sonic shift. Luckily, this record bears the same throat-shredding bellows as the group’s previous work. The choruses are sticky and primed for anthemic sing-alongs in a crowd full of sweaty strangers. Richness is life-affirming rock music that comes from a deep and genuine place. Being able to venture into this world for 25 minutes at a time is an absolute miracle. 


Bachelor - Doomin’ Sun

Polyvinyl Records

Polyvinyl Records

My first listen of Doomin’ Sun happened in a cabin on a farm tucked far up in the mountains of Colorado. This first listen came at the tail end of a long day spent hiking, taking in the natural world, and feeling appreciative of the love I’m able to share with my partner. It turns out that was the perfect way to first experience the collaborative album from the minds behind Jay Som and Palehound. Doomin’ Sun is an album made for porch beers and long drives through the mountains at sunset with the person that matters most to you. It’s laid-back, easy-going, and emotionally forthright. I look forward to this record soundtracking many more sun-drenched memories over the coming months and years. 


Downhaul - Proof

Refresh Records

Refresh Records

Much like the debut album from Stars Hollow, Proof is a record about personal growth as measured through one person. Throughout its ten songs, we watch our narrator work his way from hollow connections to genuine betterment. However, unlike most albums centered around this topic, Proof recognizes that the most challenging part of personal progress isn’t always growth itself, but admitting you need it in the first place. Proof is an album about wrestling with the almost imperceptible seismic shift that happens once you fully own up to the weight of your existence in every form.

Read our full review of Proof here.


The Give & Take - Great Pause

Knifepunch Records

Knifepunch Records

After a five-year hiatus, Expert Timing drummer Gibran Colbert revives The Give & Take to deliver a collection of five excellent songs about uncomfortably growing into the first real adult phase of your life. These songs focus in on physical manifestations of adulthood like a gifted briefcase that has fallen into disuse. They also pan out to address more universal issues like religion, isolation, and mental health. Colbert describes the band as “twinkle country” with inclusive, positive vibes, and the release reflects that, even in its moments of vulnerability. Songs like “Settled” possess an easy-breezy porch swing sway, despite the topic of not quite being where you want to be. The release finds peace in what might make others uncomfortable, all leading up to the last two tracks, which form an emotionally resonant one-two punch that gives this EP the heft of a full-length album. 


Gulfer, Charmer - Split

Topshelf Records, No Sleep Records, Royal Mountain Records

Topshelf Records, No Sleep Records, Royal Mountain Records

Ever since I heard the first chaotic yelps of Dog Bless, I knew there was something special about Gulfer. They were an emo band that knew how to mix humor and levity with the usual overwrought sentiments of the genre. Their instrumentation was tight, their vocals stuck, and they were on a legendary emo label to boot. Oppositely, Charmer’s self-titled record was a slow-burn that worked its way up from standard emo fare to an album I’d consider “perfect,” even if only within the bounds of the genre. Charmer had choruses for days, and the band’s songs never overstayed their welcome. Sprinkle both of these releases with well-placed instrumentals, short run times, and excellent production, and you have two modern emo classics. 

Last year, both bands released excellent follow-ups to their respective landmark albums that flew (relatively) under the radar in emo circles. Now, they’re back, and they’ve teamed up for a split of two songs that see each band indulging in the best aspects of their respective styles. Gulfer jolts the listener with a jagged instrumental barrage on “Look,” while Charmer croons over guitar tapping on “Diamond (Sprinkler).” This split may only be two tracks, but it’s a team-up that feels tailor-made to me and every other emo out there in need of six minutes and 35 seconds of deep human connection.


Jimmy Montague - Casual Use

Chillwavve Records

Chillwavve Records

While the music world was focused on the middling new 70s-inspired St. Vincent album, Jimmy Montague surprise-released a 70s-indebted record of his own. While it’s easy to listen to Casual Use and hear the classic rock inspiration, it’s something that can sound great on paper but easily fail in execution. So how do I know that Casual Use is the real deal? Well, I sent it to my father, who came of age when this type of music was in its heyday. My dad’s review? “Very good tunes” that will “probably be a regular” on his playlists. That endorsement says more than I ever can. 


Palette Knife - Ponderosa Snake House and the Chamber Of Bullshit

Take This To Heart Records

Take This To Heart Records

Ponderosa Snake House and the Chamber Of Bullshit is an album whose DNA is composed of equal parts Studio Ghibli sentimentality and Vine-era internet humor. It’s a collection of 11 caring, cathartic, and catchy songs, all fueled by the satisfying effervescence of LaCroix. Ponderosa Snake is an exceptionally crafted emo release that ticks all the possible boxes that the genre offers. Tappy guitar parts? Check. Immaculate production? Check. Fun choruses punctuated by brutally honest verses? Double fucking check. 


Superbloom - Pollen

Self-released

Self-released

A grunge album released in 2021? It’s more likely than you think! The first song on Superbloom’s Pollen is titled “1994,” which is either incredibly apt or incredibly on-the-nose, depending on who you ask. Regardless, “1994” serves an important purpose of setting the listener’s expectations before they even click play. Upon entering the album, you’re met with a wall of sludgy guitar tone, and raspy mumbled vocals that sound about as close to Kurt Cobain as that AI-created Nirvana song from earlier this year. Taking all the best lessons from the Stone Temple Pilots and the Soundgarden’s of the world, Superbloom effortlessly blends together a wide swath of 90s sounds into one throwback release that speaks directly to my inner 90s kid. There are hooks worthy of a Nirvana song, guitar tones akin to a Smashing Pumpkins track, and self-loathing only bested by the aforementioned Stone Temple Pilots. Lead singer Dave Hoon has a voice that sits somewhere between Cobain and the nu-metal bands who took up the mantle of grunge in the early 2000s. 

With Totally 90s™ song titles like “Whatever” and others that nod to influential acts of the time like Built to Spill, it can sometimes feel like the band is merely cosplaying this era of music à la Greta Van Fleet. Even if that’s true, the songs end up coming off as more admiration than emulation. Pollen feels like a release from a bunch of 20-somethings who grew up spending hours with their Smashing Pumpkins CDs, and I respect that because, hey, me too. Pollen sounds like an album lost to time and only recently uncovered. It sounds like time traveling back to Portland in the 90s. It sounds like grunge. 


Quick Hits

BUG MOMENT - BUG - The 100 gecs-ification of bedroom rock is here, and I adore it. 

Pearl Jam - Deep - A gargantuan, too-big-for-any-normal human 5504 song collection of bootleg live recordings taken from 186 shows across Pearl Jam’s decade-spanning career. 

Angel Olsen - Song of the Lark and Other Far Memories - Angel Olsen closes out her current era with a collection of her last two records capped off with new songs and remixes.

St. Vincent - Daddy’s Home - After an exhausting album cycle, Annie Clark finally drops her woozy 70s-indebted record that attempts to recapture the grit of New York at its most mystical and drugged-out.

Pet Fox - More Than Anything  - A three-pack of poppy and impeccably put-together shoegaze tracks via Exploding In Sound records.

Fiver - Fiver With the Atlantic School of Spontaneous Composition - Spacious indie rock with a country tinge and Fiona Apple-like vocals.

Marble Teeth x Riddle - Split 7” - One of my favorite lyricists in the midwest teams up with a friend from his hometown in this lovely little four-track split. 

Weezer - Van Weezer - Initially intended to be released around the same time as last year’s ill-fated Hella Mega Tour, the newest LP from Weezer sees the band going full over-the-top 80s guitar-shredding in this album-length genre pastiche. 

SeeYouSpaceCowboy x If I Die First - A Sure Disaster - A short split (and fun video) from two of the bands bearing the torch of Rise Records-style Mallcore in 2021.

Skatune Network - Greetings from Ska Shores - The ever-prolific god of upstrokes drops a collection of Animal Crossing songs, all rendered in a sunny ska style.

Olivia Rodrigo - SOUR - If the plodding ballads from Phoebe Bridgers’ Punisher traded LA-Brain for the suburbs and then went to go karaoke Lorde songs. 

Good Sleepy - everysinglelittlebit - 30 minutes of cleanly produced, emotionally messy tap-heavy emo. An impressive debut.

Babe Rainbow - Changing Colours  - Sunny vibe-filled music primed for beachside hangouts, midday beers, and watching summer sunsets from the comfort of a lakeborne boat.

Missing Life - DEMO - A shoegazy four-song demo from one of the minds behind Mover Shaker that sits somewhere at the intersection of Slowdive and Snow Patrol.

Boyish - We’re all gonna die, but here’s my contribution - Beautifully emotive and inward bedroom indie that cuts straight to the heart of relationships.

A.G. Cook - Apple vs. 7G - An album from the hyperpop head of PC Music collecting remixed tracks from last year’s fantastic Apple and the seven-disc-long 7G.

Pomegranate Tea - Life Is Getting So _____. - Six emo songs with the potential to come to life in small basements and sweaty bars. 

Beatricks - Razzle Frazzle - A series of compelling bleeps, bloops, screams, and strums that make you feel like you’re about to set the world on fire. 

Hot Mulligan - i won’t reach out to you - Emo stalwarts Hot Mulligan release a short addendum to last year’s fantastic sophomore album you’ll be fine

.michael. - Secret Handshake - 100 cute and surprisingly well-crafted songs all written in five minutes or less. 

Green-House - Music for Living Spaces - Relaxing synthy songs designed to “hit that part of the brain that’s affected by the emotional state that you’re in when you perceive something as cute.”

Stars Hollow – I Want to Live My Life | Album Review

stars hollow - i want to live my life cover - hi-res

The message behind Stars Hollow’s breakthrough EP Happy Again was always sitting right there staring us in the face. “It’s not that you won’t be happy again, you just won’t be the same as you were before.” A poignant (and very emo) sentiment lying in plain sight for all to see. The words used to build this statement are scattered throughout the lyrics on Happy Again (and even contained within the tracklist) but don’t reveal themselves in earnest until the final song, where lead singer Tyler Stodghill cathartically belts them all out in sequence. This lyrical throughline acts as the conceptual cherry on top of an already fantastic midwest emo release and signaled early on that Stars Hollow were doing something more than your dime-a-dozen emo band.

This sentiment lying at the center of Happy Again came straight from Stodghill himself reading about grief while simultaneously processing his own. This revelation that comes at the end of the EP acts as a stand-in for the quarter-life realization that so many of us have following the wreckless, immortal years spent as a late-teenage/early-twenty-something. Whether it’s heartbreak, death, or something in between, eventually everyone arrives at their own understanding of the irreversible nature of life. Some actions can’t be undone, some things can’t be un-lost, and some relationships can’t be salvaged. Happy Again just happened to land extra hard for me because it arrived at a time in my life that I was experiencing this type of deep-cutting and irreversible loss for the first time. 

Happy Again is a whip-smart EP with a poetic throughline that manages to get its message across in less than 15-minutes. It’s a feat of the emo genre and topping it was going to be hard. The band followed this EP up with the one-off “Tadpole” in 2019 and rode waves of DIY success to nationwide tours with fellow fifth-wavers like Origami Angel and Niiice. Now, more than two years since their last song and six years into their career as a band, the group has unleashed their debut LP I Want to Live My Life, and it is jam-packed with emo riffage, poetic lyricism, and a conceptual throughline that rivals their groundbreaking EP. 

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Much like Happy Again, the concept at the center of I Want to Live My Life is sitting right there staring you in the face. This time, however, the words are only half the story. While the band hinted that the album had a concept like their prior releases, it’s clear that they weren’t going to tip their hand quite as easily this time. 

As I studied the tracklist for clues, I couldn’t help but notice how many of the song titles seemed related. “Through the Windshield.” and “Out the Sunroof.” Two references to cars. “Stuck to You.” and “Beside You.” Two songs referring to another person. There are also similarities in how the songs are stylized, with periods after almost every song title. Even the mid-album “...” is a punctuation-based song title much like “,” off Happy Again…  but what does it all mean?

When the listener hits play on I Want To Live My Life, they’re met with a sort of music box-like melody. Soon after this maudlin instrumental sets the tone, Stodghill enters with a delicate croon bemoaning, 

It’s like something’s in my closet
Laughing at me
I’ll learn to love it
Without it
I don’t think I could sleep
I wish that my comforts
were comforting to me
I want to live my life
but I’ll be here waiting…

That’s a lot to unpack, but before you can think twice about it, you’re swept up in a whirlwind of tappy emo instrumentation and screamed vocals mere seconds later. That effect is very much intentional because the preceding four songs hardly give you a second to breathe. There’s bouncy riffage and gut-wrenching screams on “Stuck to You.” There are heart-wrenching realizations “Until I Bleed Out.,” and self-destructive sentiments on “Out the Sunroof.

Lead single “With Weight.” possesses the most fun, energetic, and dynamic instrumental on the record paired with some of the most remorseful lyrics the band has ever penned. This makes the party-hat-adorned music video feel even more apt as we watch the trio run rampant in a retro skating rink sharing birthday cake, sneaking gulps from the slushie machine, and racking up points on arcade games. These lighthearted childlike antics contrast with the group’s sweat-covered, emotional performance under the rink’s glittering disco ball. As the instrumental rises and falls around Stodghill’s wails, these two opposing feelings combine to evoke warm childhood memories of birthday parties as well as the cold, modern-day realities of adulthood. The song acts as a reminder of a time when fiscal responsibilities and emotional conflict seemed far off. It’s also a call-to-arms for the listener to suspend their disbelief, even just for a minute or two, and recapture this innocent feeling despite the looming dread of a never-ending pile of responsibilities. 

The record’s second half begins with the aforementioned “...” featuring a gentle guitar line that allows the lyrics to set a scene:

I took a step back
When I saw the window cracked
I pulled it shut
And I went back to my room where
I think something’s in my closet
Laughing at me
It’s hard to love
but without it
I won’t fall asleep
I hope someday my comforts
Will be comforting
I’m not sure if life
Is meant to be waiting…

Here, the imagery of an open window sits alongside the familiar scene established in the record’s opening track. As the guitar plays out the same music box melody, we realize the meaning in some of the phrases has shifted. Then, similar to the intro track, the band sweeps in with a bounding instrumental that leaves little time to reflect on the lyrics or the exact changes from their first iteration.

Throughout the next three tracks, the band winds their way from everything as physical as blood-soaked car crashes to things as existential and haunting as cold sweat nightmares. This feels like a good time to point out that each of these songs is masterfully crafted. Whether it’s Stodghill’s emo tapping, Gavin Brown’s buoyant basslines and phenomenal low screams, or Andrew Ferren’s precise drumming, the trio never falters once in their respective contributions. 

These songs all wind their way to the record’s inevitable conclusion on “But Better.” By the time this closing track rolls around, only 20 minutes have passed. On paper, that feels like hardly feels like any time at all, but then you look back and realize the preceding 20 minutes were comprised of life-threatening accidents and existence-altering revelations. Hardly emotionally recharging events. The record’s final song opens with a delicately plucked guitar as Stodghill sets the scene once more. 

I let out a laugh
When I saw the window cracked
I pried it open
But you pulled me back inside
Said “Life’s not kind”
I want to try

These lines depict the album’s cover, revealing the full context of this scenario we’ve been watching unfold throughout the record. After a beat, Stodghill continues with a verse that mirrors the opening track’s lyrics:

There’s something in my closet
Laughing at me
I’ll never love it
Without it
I could fall asleep

Now setting up a clear inverse parallel, Stodghill works his way up to the album’s namesake, singing,

I want to live my life
But better
I’ll face everything
I want to live my life
But better...
I’m tired of waiting.

After this final freeing cry, the group strikes one more resonant chord and lets it ring out for as long as their instruments will allow. As the guitar and bass fade, the same music box that led us into the release now shepherds us off into silence. This twinkling childlike instrumental provides a nice bookend to the album despite how different the two sentiments sitting on either end of the tracklist are. Sure, they may look similar, but the meanings behind these words could not be more different.


What’s so different about wanting to live your life and wanting to live your life but better? The biggest difference is, in one, you’re merely surviving, but in the other, you are improving. In one, you’re living life for yourself, but in the other, you recognize there’s more than that. It’s one thing to live your life, but it’s another to want to live it better. Striving for improvement is a form of self-actualization, and that’s a far cry from remaining stagnant. 

Sometimes just wanting to live your life in the first place is already an uphill battle. Once you’ve reached the point of wanting to live your life, you are faced with a decision: do you maintain or improve? It’s like Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs; you have to work your way up the ladder in order to become the most fulfilled version of yourself. 

Wanting to maintain your life is fine; after all, why risk losing something you’ve fought so hard for? But wanting to live your life better is a mission. It’s admirable. It’s never-ending. There’s always something to be working toward and always something that you could be doing better. 

Wanting to live your life but better is hopeful. It’s the realization that you might be making it farther in life than you thought when you were seventeen. It’s the highest form of self-preservation. This is not just the mere animalistic instinct to stay alive, but a uniquely human desire to improve. 

Over the course of I Want To Live My Life, we hear one person’s journey between these two states. On the first song of the record, Stodghill hesitantly sings, “I want to live my life / But I’ll be here waiting.” In the final song, we hear the same person sing, “I want to live my life, but better. / I’m tired of waiting” with full conviction. What makes up the journey between those two points is everything that you hear in between. It’s the car crashes, the chipped teeth, and the concrete. It’s jealousy, regret, and doubt. It’s learning how to navigate life through a series of errors that Stodghill somehow manages to twist into lessons. The end result of all this suffering is a realization. At the end of all this is a reason to live.