My Most Anticipated Albums of Fall 2021

We’re entering the final quarter of the year, and, spoiler alert: most of your favorite blogs already have their album of the year selected. Not me, though. I have some favorites, obviously, but when I think about my Album Of The Year 2021, it’s still anyone’s game in my mind. 

On some level, it’s easy to get swept up in end-of-the-year festivities and opt-out of the constant swirl of new music, so I wanted to give a little preemptive roundup of all the records still to be released this year that I’m excited about. These albums range in scope from heavy hitters of the indie world like My Morning Jacket and Snail Mail to up-and-coming acts that everyone should be tracking like Snarls and Illuminati Hotties. In other words, I hope you find something new here, or at the very least something to be excited about, because there’s still lots of 2021 left. 

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Explosions In The Sky - Big Bend (An Original Soundtrack or Public Television) (October 1st)
The post-rock stalwarts are back with another soundtrack, this time for a new nature documentary from PBS titled Big Bend: The Wild Frontier of Texas. As someone who has spent their summer hiking the mountains of Colorado, I look forward to this record soundtracking my last few hikes of the season before things turn too wintery. 

Hovvdy - True Love (October 1st)
Simply put, Hovvdy are masters of fall music. Their last record, Heavy Lifter, was an inventive indie rock album that perfectly captures the languid, slow-paced feeling of the season. It’s moody, vibey, inward, and perfect for late nights as the weather gets colder. The four singles released thus far have been absolutely stunning, so I can’t wait to see what the whole album sounds like. 

illuminati hotties - Let Me Do One More (October 1st)
Pool-hopping season may be over, but that fact won’t crush the indomitable spirit of Sarah Tudzin. The “tenderpunk” pioneer is back with another album-length collection of vivacious songs that I expect will counteract the dark days of autumn. 

The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die - Illusory Walls (October 8th)
The fourth-wave emo figureheads return with an epic collection of tracks grappling with a society in decay. Whether taking on a proggy post-hardcore tone or more of an open-ended Broken Social Scene approach, this record is shaping up to be something career-defining. 

Kevin Morby - ​​A Night At The Little Los Angeles (October 8th)
2020’s Sundowner was a flawless fall record. Now, Kevin Morby looks to recreate that success by revisiting the album with a pack of 4​-​Track demos recorded for the project. Hopefully an even more stripped-down version of the record, I look forward to hearing songs like “Campfire” in an even more intimate environment. 

Virginity - PopMortem (October 15th)
Each year, Florida rockers Virginity outdo themselves. 2019’s With Time is a personable emo record with hooks for days. 2020’s Death to the Party upped the ante with even more ferocious performances and relatable lyrics. Based on this trend, PopMortem is set to be the band’s new gold standard. 

My Morning Jacket - My Morning Jacket (October 22nd)
The first new My Morning Jacket LP in-earnest since 2015’s The Waterfall, the group’s eponymous release is set to be a monument to their two-decade-plus career as some of the most wholesome alt-rockers in the music scene. 

Trace Mountains - House of Confusion (October 22nd)
Over the course of his last two albums, Trace Mountains has evolved from bedroom country-light into fully-fledged indie rock. Dave Benton may not have the audience I feel he deserves, but watching his sound, production, and musical ideas evolve over the last few years has been immensely rewarding. His newest album is said to be a darker, earthier counterpart to last year’s Lost In the Country.

Spirit Was - Heaven’s Just a Cloud (October 22nd)
In his newest solo project, the ex-LVL UP member combines hearty folk sounds with Sunbather-level black metal. This album is probably the one thing I’m most excited about in the rest of 2021 due sheerly to its potential to be uniquely “my shit.” 

Every Time I Die - Radical (October 22nd)
Every Time I Die is back, and it’s time to punch something. Crafting some of the most finely produced metal I’ve heard in ages, Radical looks to be an assemblage of bottled-up rage that’s been mounting for the last few years. A single cathartic outpouring that’s long overdue. 

Parquet Courts  - Sympathy for Life (October 22nd)
Parquet Courts seem to have let their last album do the talking. In the time since 2018’s Wide Awake, we’ve seen fascism, racism, inequality, and death all on a steady rise; all things the band predicted on that sixth album. Where they will go next is anyone’s guess, but I’d wager we will look back on Sympathy for Life in a few year’s time in awe of how prescient it was. 

Angel Du$t - Yak: A Collection of Truck Songs (October 22nd)
Once a hardcore band, now just a band, Angel Du$t aren’t afraid to challenge preconceived notions. Throughout their eight-year career, the supergroup has evolved from Turnstile-indebted hardcore to wildly inventive indie rock. It’s a pivot so flawless that even the most coked-up hardcore bro will have a hard time denying it. Get ready to dance your rage out.

The War on Drugs - I Don’t Live Here Anymore (October 29th)
The modern heartland rock kings return with their newest collection of songs. Seemingly continuing the somber approach of 2017’s A Deeper Understanding, Adam Granduciel and company seem to be crafting a record designed to soundtrack the indigo-colored sunsets and amber-tinted afternoons of late fall. 

Minus the Bear - Farewell (October 29th)
My favorite band from high school (one I saw live half-a-dozen times before I could even drive) is releasing a career-spanning live album. Captured on the band’s final tour in 2018, I simply cannot wait to revisit my final two hours spent with the band as they hit all my favorite songs from a decade-spanning career—a true gift. 

Save Face - Another Kill For the Highlight Reel (October 29th)
New Jersey-based shredders Save Face are unleashing their newest collection of songs on the world this fall. Fittingly releasing in the days before Halloween, the Skeleton-adorned and blood-encrusted record is likely the closest thing we will get to a new My Chemical Romance album, so drink it up, get spooky, and rock out. 

Snail Mail - Valentine (November 5th)
The long-awaited follow-up to 2016’s Lush is almost upon us. Initially heralded as a teenage savant, Lindsey Jordan was poised to be the “next voice” of indie rock music. She’s spent the intervening half-decade touring, discovering herself, and enjoying the final stretch of her teenage years. Valentine will likely be a synthesis of all those experiences and emotions. It will also likely be the soundtrack to your crush’s Instagram Stories for years to come. 

Radiohead - Kid A Mnesia (November 9th)
Sorry, but I love Radiohead. A box set of Kid A and Amnesiac is necessary. It may not be my favorite era of the band, but many people look back on this period of Radiohead as their best. Much like OKNOTOK, I’m eager to hear the songs left off the records and experience an overindulgent celebration of all the demos and recordings that missed the cut on these landmark alternative albums. 

Delta Sleep - Spring Island (November 12th)
A mathy combination of TTNG and Minus the Bear, Delta Sleep look at the world through a naturalistic lens and then filter those observations through prog-tinted indie rock. The band’s first album in three years, Spring Island, is building off the rubble of Ghost Cities into something more organic and awe-inspired. 

Snarls - What About Flowers? (November 12th)
If there were any justice in this world, Snarls would have been the biggest band of all time by the end of 2020. At the beginning of the ill-fated year, the group released Burst, a stunning collection of songs that felt primed for the mainstream… then the rest of the year happened. Rather than get dragged down, the group rallied and recorded What About Flowers?, an EP designed to reignite the spark that they’ve been patiently waiting on for nearly two years. With any luck, by this time next year, they will have the listenership they have always deserved. 

Courtney Barnett - Things Take Time, Take Time (November 12th)
The iconic Australian rocker returns from the shadows of 2018’s Tell Me How You Really Feel with an album that sounds more deliberately laid-back and easy-going. An excellent reminder to take things at your own pace and that good things will come in time. 

Ovlov - Buds (November 19th)
The Connecticut shoegazers are back with their first record since 2018’s Tru. While members have dropped other projects under the names Stove, Pet Fox, and Smile Machine, the group has announced their reformation in earnest with “Land of Steve-O,” a stunning signal of the album to come.

My 200 Favorite Songs of All Time

At the end of last year, this site rounded the corner on 150 total articles published. Once I hit that milestone, it immediately felt as if my 200th article loomed right around the corner. I had started to post more regularly than ever before, and running this website felt like a relatively healthy hobby to commit to during a global pandemic. At the onset of this year, I also made a resolution to post at least one article a week throughout 2021, and I’m proud to say I’ve kept that up all year, more or less. 

Also around this same time, I hatched a grand idea for my 200th article on this site to be a ranking of my top 200 songs of all time. I wanted to do full-paragraph write-ups for each song, articulating exactly what I loved about them on both a personal and musical level. I tried to start that piece a few times over the last year, but the idea was simply too overwhelming for me even to begin to genuinely chip away at.

However, what I have done over the last year is create an iTunes playlist of all my favorite songs. I’ve been updating and scrutinizing this list with some level of regularity, so it feels like a relatively complete reflection of who I am in 2021. Obviously, I couldn’t quite find the time to write about all 200 tracks, but I realized that if I was going to have them all collected somewhere, I might as well make it somewhere public. 

This isn’t a traditional post where I wax poetic for thousands of words. Instead, I celebrate Swim Into The Sound’s 200th post in a manner that’s very un-like Swim Into The Sound. At the bottom of this article, you’ll find a Spotify playlist featuring 200 of my favorite songs of all time... Err, well, more like 198 of my favorite songs, because neither “Weak Man, Weak Boy” or “Waltz of the Sea Wolf” are on Spotify. This playlist is in “reverse chronological order,” with my favorite songs up top. While I’m listing asterisks, I’d also like to caution that this playlist gets decidedly less ranked as it goes on. 

If you’re interested in reading about some of these songs in more detail, I wrote about my fifteen favorites back in 2019 for the site’s 100th post. That article approaches the topic in a manner that’s more befitting of this blog; long adoration-filled paragraphs about pieces of music that are very near and dear to my heart.

Even though this post is not the ornate 200-song-long write-up I first envisioned, it’s is still a celebration. Two hundred articles is a monumental achievement in my mind because it just feels so big–each hundred does. I still remember naming my first document in Google Drive and using the format “001” because I thought I would never pass 1,000. It’s not like I’m close now, but I at least understand what that quantity feels like.

This is also a celebration because I genuinely believe in everything that gets posted here. I have poured unquantifiable hours into each of the 199 posts that proceeded this one. This blog may seem amateurish or overly earnest at times, but it’s genuine to me, and that’s what I care about most. 

So thank you for reading this. Thank you if you’ve ever read Swim Into The Sound before, and thank you even more if you read the site regularly. 

Thank you if you’ve contributed to the site as a guest writer, said something nice on social media, or worked with me in any capacity. It all adds up, and every single piece of support means the world to me.

Running this site is genuinely one of the highlights of my life, and I thank you for being a part of it.

Thank you for coming along, and thank you for caring. 

Greet Death – I Hate Everything | Single Review

New misanthropy anthem just dropped!

Michigan shoegazers Greet Death have returned with “I Hate Everything,” their first single since 2019’s New Hell. The track is more of a changeup than a curveball; gone are the soul-crushing of the guitars and bass of their previous songs, in their place are gently strummed acoustic chords and faint drum patterns. There’s still a sick guitar solo, but even it feels restrained in comparison to the soaring solos of songs like “You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done.”

When I listen to “I Hate Everything,” I can’t help but think of “Crush,” the penultimate song on New Hell. Both tracks have an almost pop-like quality while still featuring some of the band’s most dour lyrics. “Crush” is a tranquil little diddy propped up by a gorgeous slide guitar motif as Logan Gaval sings of a heartbreak that has him fantasizing “different ways [his] body could die.” Sonically, the song is soft and gentle, yet lyrically, the content is nothing short of arresting. It serves as a sort of palette cleanser for New Hell, priming the lister for the punishing ten-minute title track that comes in its wake. 

Much like “Crush,” “I Hate Everything” doesn’t need to be loud to make itself heard. Sam Boyhtari acts as the song’s storyteller, laying out the mundane existence of a functioning depressive. Boyhtari’s lyrics and delivery sound like Andy Shauf making a Songs: Ohia record; clear and conversational, but incredibly dark. He’s getting wasted on Thursdays, sitting in meetings, and taking pictures of dead birds on the street. It’s a sad and lonely life, but in many ways, it’s not too different from what a lot of people are going through. Being depressed doesn’t make someone unique, but everyone’s depression is unique to them. You can traverse through a seemingly normal life and still be in immense pain; it’s not an either-or situation.

I know my analysis of the song might feel like a lot, so I want to make it clear that I love “I Hate Everything.” I love Greet Death’s colossal sound, but what makes their music truly special is that it is so validating. Life really fucking sucks sometimes, and Greet Death get that. As of now, it’s unclear if this track is the precursor of a new album or if it’s just a one-off single, but either way, I’m excited to see the band tweaking their sound while also remaining true to the sound of their previous releases. Not only are they tinkering with their music, but with their lineup as well. “I Hate Everything” sees Jackie Kalmink entering the fold as the band’s bassist and recording/engineer of this song, officially turning Greet Death into a four-piece. I don’t think the band has completely abandoned their loud shoegaze sound, but it’s clear that even without crushing guitars, Greet Death will always be heavy.

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Connor lives in San Francisco with his partner and their cat and dog, Toni and Hachi. Connor is a student at San Francisco State University and is working toward becoming a community college professor. When he isn’t listening to music or writing about killer riffs, Connor is obsessing over coffee and sandwiches.

Follow him on Twitter or Instagram.

Big Vic – Girl, Buried | Album Review

My favorite albums and songs aren’t great just because of the random assemblage of lyrics and instrumentals they possess; they’re great because the artist is pursuing a specific vision. Sometimes the writing is so vivid that it places you right alongside the narrator. Other times the band’s instrumentation is so distinct that it fleshes out their own corner of the musical universe. Those are the pieces of music that stick with me and keep me coming back because they offer something more than just a simple collection of sounds.

Specifically, in regards to the album format, a well-crafted world can be an infinitely renewable resource. I relish escaping into the countryside of Saint Cloud. I love donning my imaginary leather jacket for Born To Run. I will never get tired of the power and confidence that I feel while listening to Yeezus. Each of these albums flesh out their own one-of-a-kind universe thanks to the unflinching commitment of their respective creators. In capturing their reality, these artists offer up something of themselves. They welcome the listener in and let us find comfort, or coolness, or confidence in the space that they’ve created. That is what keeps me coming back to an album over time because it’s bigger than a good hook or a killer solo; it’s a world all its own. 

As a whole, shoegaze is a genre that understands this commitment to world-building. Bands like Greet Death, Gleemer, and Clearbody are all chipping away at different visions of the same thing. While Greet Death describes their style as “Blackened Post-Alt-Country,” Gleemer takes a more relatable, poppy singalong approach, meanwhile Clearbody offers a punchy style of Grungegaze. These bands can exist alongside heavy-hitters like Deafheaven and Hum, as well as exciting up-and-comers like Dazy and Alien Boy. You get the point. There is enough room in this genre for a wealth of diverse sounds, even when most bands are playing within the same sandbox of fuzzy guitars, sludgy bass, and crashing cymbals. 

This genre is all-encompassing. There are sub-shades of shoegaze where the core mechanics are cross-hatched into other sounds, but by and large, the genre follows the same approach; pummel the listener with distortion and trepidatious lyrics. Turn it up as loud as possible for maximum effect. 

In a genre that seems to be constantly shifting and ever-expanding, the Ann Arbor-based shoegaze act Big Vic is finally ready to unveil themselves with Girl, Buried. While they’ve been an entity since early 2019, it’s clear the band has spent the last two years practicing, honing their skill, and fleshing out their vision. Girl, Buried is a transportive piece of music that warps the familiar sound of shoegaze into something ferocious, groovy, and totally unique.

Once the listener presses play on the opening track, “Dinky,” they have no choice but to sink into the album like a water bed. The record opens with a squeal of feedback, quickly followed by a snappy slice of rock riffage. Lead singer Victoria Rinaldi sounds borderline Kim Deal-esque, affecting a sort of disgruntled 90s intonation that allows the band to bring things down a touch before swinging back into the next shoegaze riff. As the band shifts from one section of the song to the next, it feels as if you’re watching Spider-Man swing from one skyscraper to another; it’s acrobatic, exhilarating, and it all flows in an effortless, naturalistic way. 

Track two, “Broken Car,” is a bit of a sunkissed shift in sound. The song sounds agreeable enough; you can practically see the breeze wafting through the trees while you take in the jangly indie rock. As the opening verse unfolds, the band shifts into this kind of spiky cadence where the instrumental comes in fits and starts that coincide with Rinaldi’s delivery, emphasizing each word in the process. After a couple of verses, it all fades into a sort of Cure-like build which itself winds back up to the starting point, resolving in a neo-psychedelia Jay Som riff.

“Salt” opens with a radiant synth which is quickly paired with a searching Souvlaki-style space riff. The lyrics are just brief flashes that hit you like a jab from a dark alley; they hardly linger long enough to do anything, but still manage to knock the wind out of you. Right as you start to get a grasp on the sentiment, the guitar morphs into a sludgy wall of stankface tone, and we’re swept up into a tornado of overbearing emotion.

Album highlight “Gun Girl” changes things up with a fist-balling rager that alternates between a muscular, soaring punk riff and jagged, unsettling instrumentals. These whiplash-inducing passages are accompanied by vitriolic monologues aimed at creepy guys. The sentiments all pile up at the end of the song and culminate in a disorienting horn outburst that keeps things deliciously off-kilter. Not only does “Gun Girl” inject energy into the tracklist at just the right time, but it also wonderfully captures the out-of-control feeling you get from just trying to keep up with your thoughts while the world around you moves at lightning speed. 

The shoegaze-tinged half-steps into other genres don’t stop there. “Kerrytown” possesses lush slide guitar, lackadaisical banjo plucks, and a laid-back temper that’s slow as molasses and easy as the rolling hills. It’s a woozy little country-tinged pitstop that offers a perfect landing stip necessary for the comedown of “Gun Girl.” And while it starts mild-mannered, “Kerrytown” still crescendos into a beautiful, searching guitar solo that’s downright transcendental. This bleeds effortlessly into “Interlude,” where a whirl of static spins over some more banjo plucks for a wordless two-minute prattle before the final one-two punch of our closing songs.

“Worms” opens like a horror movie; proggy bass, guitar, and drums all jostle the listener around before igniting into an Adebisi Shank-style of robot rock. After a few whisper-quiet verses, the song degrades in real-time, slowing down with each bar before a crushing doom riff sweeps the entire thing into an endless abyss.

Closing track “Anymore” opens with a rolling, arid post-rock stretch that sets the scene for a reserved vocal performance. As the first verse nears its natural breaking point, the band falls into a lumbering Greet Death riff. Not content to repeat the same tricks twice, the next passage sees the group speeding the track up and slowing back down, distorting time like a warped Dalí clock or a piece of Laffy Taffy. The final 50-second stretch takes a page straight out of Mannequin Pussy’s playbook and breaks out into a riff so distorted and blown out it feels like you’re witnessing the end of the world. You can practically feel the walls of the studio shaking as the band breaks through the confines of the record, igniting into a solar flare and hanging themselves upon the night sky.

And that’s Girl, Buried. For a band named “@​​diet_emo” on Twitter, Big Vic is much less diminutive and far less emo than that handle would lead you to believe. This is a record that takes up space. This is a record that has things to say. This is a record that’s in control of its own destiny. 

Aside from the broad swath of genres represented here from shoegaze and beyond, Girl, Buried is also an excellently sequenced album that walks the listener seamlessly from one emotion to the next. Whether the band is getting technical and progressive or shaking with vitriol, Big Vic does an excellent job of making it all feel continuous. 

As the cataclysmic events of the world outside continue to bury us alive every day, sometimes having a world in which you can escape is vital. Girl, Buried isn’t a distraction. This album is not a world in which those hard feelings and oppressive events don’t exist; it’s a world in which they do, and you’re strong enough to confront them. This record is all your own rage, sadness, anger, and helplessness reflected back at you. It’s the band saying, “We feel it too.”

As we try to un-bury ourselves each day, Big Vic offers a forthright album-length reminder that, if you’re feeling the pressure, at least there’s comfort in knowing you’re not alone.

Colleen Green – Cool | Album Review

Yet another installment in our series of “first impression” reviews, the following write-up was written and published in just one day based solely upon a few sequential listens of Colleen Green’s newest album.

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Like many other denizens of 2015, I was enamored by Colleen Green’s third album, I Want To Grow Up. The combination of bratty pop-punk, borderline-stoner rock, and genuine human insight felt completely revelatory to me at the time. Place these Insomniac-era Green Day riffs underneath an iconic cover, Descendents reference, and sunglasses-clad getup, and it felt like Green had the potential to be one of punk music’s next great visionaries. Then a year passed. Then another. Eventually, six years down the line, we finally have a proper follow-up to that breakthrough record, and it feels just as impressive as the release that Green first staked her name on. 

I honestly thought enough time had passed that I’d be “over” Colleen Green’s sound by now, but one song into Cool and I was immediately proven wrong. Just when I thought I was out, she pulled me back in. Leaning further into a sort of One Beat-era Sleater Kinny style of Pacific Northwest indie rock, Cool is a different album from Grow Up in the best way possible. The opening track “Somewhere Else” sets the tone (and pace) for the record perfectly with a rolling instrumental evocative of other spacious album openers like Japanese Breakfast’s “Diving Woman.” After roughly a minute of jazzy, open-ended riffage, Green saunters into frame talk-singing the first verse in a poetic cadence that makes you lean in further and further with each bar. Then the song drops out into a guitar solo before throwing back to another obfuscated verse fleshing out a one-sided relationship. To carry out the track, a series of hummed “oooooh’s” lead directly to a glitchy repetition of “Do you?” That phrase loops out into a whispered refutation of “he has someone else” which repeats until the song fades into silence—a pretty incredible range of ideas for a three-minute opener. 

The other singles,  “I Wanna Be a Dog” and “It’s Nice To Be Nice,” bring the listener up to speed on Green’s artistic ethos in 2021; biting, acerbic lyricism basking underneath the glow of a sunny feel-good instrumental. It’s a delicious contradiction that results in some of the sharpest and most exciting songwriting I’ve heard all year. In the former track, Green takes the same sentiment as the famous Stooges song and reinterpolates it as a lens through which to view, analyze, and critique her outlook on life as well as her interpersonal relationships. Much like “Heavy Petting” by Future Teens, it’s a track that fully commits to its pet-based analogy, resulting in a song that can be enjoyed on a different level with each re-listen. In the latter single, Green takes a breezy sailboat instrumental and works up to a chorus that acts as a reminder to be kind to both yourself and others. 

Even though “It’s Nice To Be Nice” comes halfway through the tracklist, the song acts as the self-proclaimed sentimental peak of the album. On the record’s Bandcamp page, it reads of the track, “[it’s] Green’s reminder to herself that you get what you give, so it’s important to try and be the best person you can—a hard-won but essential lesson in the emotional maturity that defines Cool.”

From that point on, the Cool winds from patriarchal Mitski sentiments on “How Much Should You Love a Husband?,” Powerplant-era Girlpool sounds on “I Believe In Love,” and a meditative instrumental closer on “Pressure to Cum.” Throughout the first half of the album, you’ll find surfy indie rock on “Posi Vibes” and Diet Cig-flavored critiques of the always-on social media world with “You Don’t Exist.” There are harrowing tales of emotional disconnect on “Highway” countered by shimmering bass-guided adoration on “Natural Chorus.” Simply put, there’s a dazzling range of sounds and ideas on this record that somehow all manage to congeal into one cohesive piece of art. Every drum beat, bass thump, guitar lick, and synth note are all filtered through Green’s UV-protectant sunglasses, and that makes Cool feel like a fantastically singular creation.

Throughout each track on the album, I’m amazed by Green’s restraint in song structure. Whether penning multi-layered critiques on things as big as the society in which we live or zooming in to write about things as specific and singular as herself, Green always manages to find time to fit those observations between razor-sharp choruses and spectacular guitar solos. Even with a fairly traditional 36 minute run time, it feels like each of these ten tracks have enough time to do exactly what they need. Because each song has enough space to breathe, this means everything feels urgent, but nothing feels rushed. 

This measured approach to song structure is easily my favorite thing about Cool. Some songs like “Someone Else” open with this sort of curtain-up instrumental level-set, while others like “Natural Chorus” sputter out into these listless musical ruminations. It makes Green’s presence on vocals even more impactful and makes each word land harder due simply to the contrast with their surrounding environment. The tracks essentially strike a perfect balance between poetic observations, memorable choruses, and awe-inspiring compositions. Cool is a fantastic example of letting the instrumental tell the story, and that’s an art form that often feels lost within the indie rock sphere where some bands are eager to paint over any white space in an arms race toward the next area-ready chorus. Green’s approach to music leads to this economy of words where the listener pays even closer attention to each verse just for a brief glimpse at what’s going on behind those iconic sunglasses.

Overall, Cool is a stunning release that effortlessly shakes off the slump of a six-year album gap in favor of something inventive, new, and authentic to Green as an artistic entity. It may have taken a while to get here, but much like the songs themselves, Cool is proof that sometimes you just need to move at your own pace.