My Favorite Albums of 2016

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2016 has been an unforgettable year. For art, for politics, for life. There are now so many avenues for music that it’s easy for things to slip through the cracks. I’m still trying to dig through my own mountainous backlog of music, podcasts, movies, and games. In a year of uncertainty, darkness, and constant change, these albums brought bright rays of hope and beauty into my life.

Before I get into my top ten, I’d like to name a few honorable mentions. These are ten albums (in no particular order) that I found incredible, yet didn’t quite make it into my top ten.

Obviously, I would recommend these albums (and the following ten) to anyone, but for one reason or another, these ten were all edged out by other releases this year. Now that I’ve named the runner-ups, let’s get into the good stuff, starting with number ten.

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10 - Francis and the Lights - Farewell, Starlight!

Francis and the Lights is the project (solo act?) of the futuristically-named Francis Farewell Starlite. After surprising the world with his Bon-Iver-esque feature on Chance The Rapper’s “Summer Friends” earlier in the year, Francis released his debut album Farewell, Starlite! in late September. The album is “fall music” perfected, offering a wide array of spacey, introverted, jagged electronic sounds that all inspire the listener to look inward and absorb the world around them. The record shifts from dancey Michael Jackson impersonations on “I Want You to Shake” to somber reflection on “My City’s Gone” within a matter of minutes. Clocking in at a little over 30 minutes, Farewell, Starlite! is a pointed ode to Peter Gabriel wrapped in a neutral-colored turtleneck.

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9 - M83 - Junk

Anything following M83’s critical darling and ambitious double album Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming was bound to be divisive and over-analyzed. In the face of following up that artistic achievement with their seventh studio album, M83 decided to fully lean into 80’s nostalgia and unbridled cheese. If the space muppets and Play-Doh cheeseburger on the cover weren’t enough indication, this album has its foot firmly planted in two very different realms. After opening with the accessible but veiled “Do It, Try It” the band immediately launches into “Go!” an absolute monster of guitar wankery and anthemic drums.

Several songs later, the record goes fully off kilter with “Moon Crystal” a song that sounds like it was ripped straight out an 80’s NBC interstitial alerting you that a new episode of Alf was up next. Junk as earnest as it is cheesy, it’s genuine about its love for corniness. I appreciate whenever an artist embraces both ends of a spectrum like that, especially following something as “artistic” as Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming.

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8 - Dance Gavin Dance - Mothership

All these years later, there’s still a shell of angry metalcore kid left somewhere in me, and Dance Gavin Dance is living proof of that. After being mostly disappointed with the band’s previous effort Instant Gratification, I took a gamble on Mothership because it happened to release at a time when I had an extra $10 lying around. Their newest record represents a return to the band’s earlier darker sound without losing any of the humor, heaviness, or musicianship they’ve developed over the course of their decade-plus career. In fact, tracks like “Inspire the Liars” and “Man Of The Year” represent new artistic peaks for the band as every member seems to be exploring the bounds of their respective instruments.

Mothership manages to bring the band into interesting new (even catchy) territories while still retaining what made them special in the first place. Tillian’s lung-collapsing scream on “Inspire the Liars” is one of the most impressive things I’ve ever heard in the genre, and single-handedly turned me back into a believer.

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7 - Modern Baseball - Holy Ghost

In a year of bands releasing follow-ups to albums I loved, I was most nervous about Modern Baseball’s Holy Ghost. The band’s previous album You’re Gonna Miss It All was an absolute revelation at the time it released in 2014 and represented an uplifting shift in the somewhat-stale realm of pop-punk. Their newest release may not be as catchy, immediate, or narrative as their last, but upon each listen Holy Ghost slowly reveals more of its layers to you.

Split into two halves between the band’s dual frontmen, Side A addresses death and loss while Side B deals with Brendan Lukens’ ongoing struggle with depression. Heavy stuff for such a relatively upbeat half-hour, but the band manages to pack all that and more within a tight record that is eager to reveal its purpose to those willing to listen.

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6 - Young Thug - Slime Season 3

After being propelled to the forefront of the underground hip-hop scene in 2015 with critical darling Barter 6, nearly 100 Young Thug tracks were leaked and released onto the digital winds of the Internet. The Slime Season series of mixtapes served as a way for Young Thug to (graciously) finalize a majority of those half-finished leaked songs. Slime Season 3 is the final installation in this series and represents the death of this period in Thug’s career.

With 8 tracks stretched over 28 minutes, there was no room for error, no space for filler, and no time to waste. As a result, SS3 represents Thug at his most ferocious, lively, and spry. Hopping onto beats and careening over them like a car without brakes, this tape represents boundless creativity, energy, and excitement as he looked forward to his next phase in music. Slime Season 3 is perhaps the best sample platter of his arsenal of sounds, from his careless screams on “Drippin’” to his tender “Worth It” Thug jumps between different deliveries with ease and elegance. The tape is an absolute blast to listen to, and unfortunately, that’s something that music sometimes forgets to do.

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5 - Angel Olsen - My Woman

My Woman represented a defiant shift away from Angel Olsen’s previous role as an airy female folk guitarist and toward a grounded, psychedelic, indie rocker. Opening with the upbeat and clear “Intern” the album reveals its intention and purpose, then collapses losing all physical strength halfway through. The album’s third song “Shut Up Kiss Me” features a monstrous drum beat and an unwavering Angel Olsen on vocals as every instrument rapidly builds up to its dramatic crescendo. 

By the second half of the record, the party is over and the remaining four tracks have only enough energy left for spaced-out thoughts and introspection. “Sister” and “Woman” are both seven-minute epics with atmospheric builds that offer ruminations on what it means to be a woman in 2016.

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4 - Chance the Rapper - Coloring Book

When I think back on 2016, it’s likely this album is what will first come to mind. Following his 2013 underground hit Acid Rap Chance the Rapper has slowly been building his Rolodex working with everyone from Skrillex to Quavo and honing his skills in the process. In 2015 he swung his weight around and helped release a surprise album for free on iTunes which is an achievement on its own. In early 2016 he dropped one of the most talked-about verses on “Ultralight Beam,” the opening track to Kanye West’s newest record. The gospel-influenced verse represented a symbolic passing of the torch to the new school of Chicago rap and quickly propelled Chance to an entirely new level of mainstream exposure.

After the unparalleled success of his guest feature at the beginning of the year, Chance segued that momentum to his third mixtape Coloring Book. Inspired primarily by the birth of his daughter, Coloring Book goes from bouncy middle finger rap on “No Problem” to relationship woes on “Same Drugs” before turning away from all of that towards his family on “Blessings (Reprise)Coloring Book represents an uncompromisingly bright, optimistic, and exuberant album in the face of a world that seemingly gets darker every day.

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3 - Radiohead - A Moon Shaped Pool

Released on Mother’s Day, Radiohead’s first album in 5 years served as a universal gift of beauty and glimmering light to the world. Aided by the Johnny Greenwood’s newfound orchestral skills, this record sees Radiohead revisiting a plethora of previously unreleased gems, now fully-realized and set in stone in a single gorgeous album.

Sonically, the album is vague and formless. It wasn’t until about ten listens that individual tracks even became apparent to me. The album bleeds together in a beautiful and interesting way that makes it feel like one complete piece. It’s one journey that needs every part to work. The individual tracks are still there, but they’re a part of something bigger.

The album’s final song “True Love Waits” is a haunting reflection of love lost, unrequited, and broken. It’s a solitary piece of sadness that the band sends the listener back into the world with. After fifty minutes of foggy, string-laden beauty, it serves as one final reminder that the world is still the world. You can only escape that reality for so long.

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2 - Kanye West - The Life of Pablo

As if there was any doubt after my recent Kanye-exaltation/defense, Kanye West’s controversial The Life of Pablo was a shoe-in for my top 10. Part of the joy of this album came from its rocky release painstakingly depicted here. The communal misery, speculation, uncertainty, coping, and conspiracy theories were a joy to be a part of, and led to some of the most joy-filled moments of my 20-year-long Internet career. More recently, the obsessive fan-created remix The Life of Paul has offered a fresh perspective on the beauty that lies at the album’s core. Even more recently, Kanye’s admission to the hospital following constant touring presents itself as a telling narrative on the media, mental illness, and the creators we hold so dear.

The album itself is a schizophrenic jumbled mess that jumps between dozens of sounds within its jam-packed 20 tracks. It’s a testament to the time we live in, and our scattered perspectives in 2016. Every track on TLOP (including the interludes) has sentimental value for me. Every single one of them. The album single-handedly gave us Desiigner, elevated Chance the Rapper, and spawned one of my favorite memes of the year. Additionally, Kanye’s strategy of “updating” the album after its release sparked discussions on what an “album” is in a streaming world. It’s been a pop cultural gift.

Cultural impact aside, the music is some of the most honest, atmospheric, and self-aware that West has ever made. With topics ranging from prescription drug abuse to the birth of his second child, TLOP is a monument not only to Kanye, but to 2016 as a whole. Upon first listen it doesn’t feel like an album, more of a scattered playlist of tracks that could be put in any order and still work. I’d argue that’s the point. While Kanye’s previous releases have all had specific sounds and “points” to them, TLOP is utterly pointless, and maybe that’s the point.

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1 - Frank Ocean - Blonde

Following a four-year silence and years of delays, Frank Ocean emerged from his undisclosed monastery with a bizarre stair-building social experiment. After finessing his way out of his record deal with that visual album he released Blonde the very next day. It wasn’t what fans were expecting, or wanted, but it’s what they got. Blonde is Frank Ocean’s immortal monument.

Sometimes only offering fragments of ideas in between skits, poetry, and social commentary, Blonde is an album that was meant to last. Every word of this album was planned. Every sound, every keystroke, and off-kilter delivery were meant to be. It’s a finely-crafted piece of beauty, and I can’t think of a single thing that could make it better.

Midway through the album on the unsuspecting track “Self Control” Ocean gradually fades to silence as he repeats “I, I, I, know you gotta leave, leave, leave. Take down some summer time. Give it up just for tonight, night, night” and it’s one of the most beautiful, whole, and perfect things I’ve ever heard put to song.

It’s crazy to say since I honestly wasn’t a fan of channel ORANGE, but I bought into the hype of this album and checked it out in a spur-of-the-moment decision. Upon first listen, the album sort of bleeds together as one amorphous dreamy piece, but upon re-listens, different moments peek out and reveal themselves.

On a personal note, Blonde is inextricably tied to the Summer. As I wrapped up my final ties with school, internships, and countless different safety nets, this album represents the start of my new life. As I listened and re-listened to this album I also devoured Stranger Things (twice) and spent a week endlessly hiking around a riverside loop while on vacation at my personal heaven on earth Sunriver, Oregon. It was a dreamy, other-worldly state, and one that now comes over me every time I press play on this album.

Blonde is a deeply personal album. It’s deeply personal to me, but more importantly, it’s deeply personal to Frank Ocean. It’s an out-of-body experience. It feels like I’m listening to a piece of Frank Ocean’s soul. It feels like a person encased in amber and etched into the grooves of vinyl. It’s absolutely incredible, breathtaking and unlike anything else in 2016.

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The Great Swell

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In lieu of completing one of the half-written, obsessively-researched, and semi-thought-out blog posts in my Google Drive, I’m opting to post a spur-of-the-moment write-up on Kanye West.

Ever since 2005 and his massively off-script “George Bush doesn’t care about black people” Kanye has been the subject of countless controversies. From 2009’s infamous “I’mma let you finish” to his “YOU AIN’T GOT THE ANSWERS” outburst, there has been no shortage of discussions, memes, or attention surrounding Kanye West. His 2012 relationship and eventual marriage to Kim Kardashian brought him exponentially more media attention and cemented him as one of the most watched (and hated) men in America.

I believe that Kanye West is an unbridled force for good in this universe.

Kanye is controversial, sure, but is that enough reason to hate him? You know what else happened in 2005? He appeared on Oprah and debuted a song dedicated to his mother. You know what else happened in 2009? His mother passed. (Just to bring it full circle, he played this heartbreaking version of that Oprah song after her passing). Kanye isn’t the monster that the media likes to paint him as. People blindly hate Kanye because they only see the unscripted viral moments and pass judgment with those videos as their sole evidence. They know his attachment to the Kardashians (another source of unfounded hatred) and end up disliking him with zero research.

Kanye isn’t a monster. He’s manic.

Kanye has openly talked about Lexapro in songs and even quietly released a song called “I Feel Like That” which is the most open, frank, and honest discussion of mental health that I’ve ever heard in a song.

Do you feel tempered outbursts, that you cannot control?

Feeling lonely, even when you are with people, feeling blocked.

Feeling blue, sad, feeling disinterested in things, feeling fearful.

Are your feelings easily hurt?

Feeling that people are unfriendly, or do you feel like people dislike you?

I feel like that

I feel like that

I feel like that

I feel like that all the time

This weekend Kanye controversy reached a fever pitch as he found himself at the center of a series of increasingly bad decisions. We were watching him spiral out of control on a national stage in real time. I was driven to write this because the public at large handled his actions with as much tact as you would expect.

Friday 11/18 - Kanye sparked a new wave of controversy with a “pro-Trump” rant at an Inglewood concert. The media (and general public) ran with the headline of “Kanye Supports Trump” when in reality his words were much more bipartisan:

West elaborated throughout the show. He stated that while he admired Trump’s debating style – saying that it was “genius” because it “worked” – his true reason for backing the Republican was that his win would inspire racists to reveal themselves. “This is the beginning,” West said, according to one attendee, adding: “Neither candidate would fix racism in this country.

Saturday 11/19 - After several turbulent weeks of publicly fighting, Kanye reunited with frequent collaborator Kid Cudi for a concert in Sacramento. After three songs, the concert was abruptly stopped and concluded with another more jumbled out lash of a rant. The show was less than 25 minutes.

Sunday 11/20 - Kanye inexplicably flooded his Instagram with grainy photos from a vintage Margiela lookbook, making posts minutes (or sometimes seconds) apart. By the end of the night, Kanye announced that he was canceling the remainder of the concert dates on his tour and issuing refunds to ticket holders (including Saturday’s botched show).

I started this post at 9:23 AM on Monday the 21st. It is now 1:20 AM on Tuesday, and within the last few hours Kanye West was taken to the UCLA Medical Center and hospitalized “for his own health and safety.”

Kanye is surrounded by stress. Kim Kardashian’s robbery in October made the possibility of losing his wife a frightening reality. His recent fights with close friends Kid Cudi and Jay-Z have worn on him. The pressure from constant touring and travel has cracked his surface. He’s sleep deprived, exhausted, and had literal public breakdowns within the last 48 hours.

I started writing this before his admission to the hospital, and I still see people making jokes about the recent news online, all because the media told them it was okay and South Park gave them ammunition 7 years ago.

Kanye West is publicly dealing with mental health issues, and for a country that claims to care about that issue any time there’s a hot new shooting, America sure seems content to sit back and write this off “because it’s Kanye.” Because people only seen the bad stuff they assume he’s a thuggish, rude, arrogant asshole. He may be some of those things, but he’s also more than that.

Personal history aside, he’s made some of the best music of the past decade. He’s set trends in music, fashion, and culture that are unparalleled by any nearly any artist outside of The Beatles. His art is beautiful, and it lights a flame in me that I rarely feel at any other time. It’s what pulled me up and inspired me to write this post. It’s what’s keeping me awake long after I should have gone to sleep. It’s what gives me a great swelling sensation that inspires me to create.

But my point is that Kanye is a person. Because of how the media, the internet, and popular culture work, he’s often painted in an unfair light. He’s dealing with real issues (especially right now) and he deserves a little compassion. It’s the least you could give. I’m not asking you to pray for him, or buy his discography, or even stop making fun of him. God know’s I’ll be right there creating memes with the rest of the fans when this is all over, but now’s not the time. This is a genuine issue of mental health, and in all this darkness, I’d love it if we as a culture could respect that. Kanye brings so much light and beauty into this world, I’d love it if just one person understood that after reading this.

West’s semi-recent outburst on Ellen is indicative of his recent behavior. In the midst of this year’s #OscarsSoWhite controversy West threw himself into a typically-off-script diatribe about a variety of topics ranging from race to the media. Though he doesn’t say it well, the 8-minute video is filled with some valid points, even if they are scatterbrained as fuck.

At 3:01 in the video, a particularly sentient Kanye addresses the in-studio audience directly:

You know, people never write: ‘Kanye’s pissing everybody off.’ They try to position that through the media in some way that I’m like —- whatever. Whatever your friends might say. You know – ‘I saw Kanye.’ ‘How was he? Did he … (do anything crazy)?’

I care about people. I care about – My dad lived in homeless shelters less than five years ago. My mom was the first black female chair of the English department at Chicago State University. I was raised to do something, to make a difference.”

He soon went on to discuss the human race as a whole:

We got 100 years here. We’re one race, the human race, one civilization. We’re a blip in the existence of the universe, and we constantly try to pull each other down. Not doing things to help each other. That’s my point. I’m shaking talking about it. I know it’s daytime TV, but I feel I can make a difference while I’m here. I feel that I can make things better through my skill set. Through my skills – I’m an artist.”

He’s literally pleading with the audience to hear his words. The Ellen crowd are women who know Kanye primarily through the above-mentioned controversies and People Magazine covers that solely discuss how bad of a father he is. He’s talking directly to that audience and asking them to place that put all that aside for a second and listen.

Soon after that quote, he goes on to earnestly talk about how he wants to lower the cost of his shoes so they’re more accessible to kids in inner-cities. Not for money, but because he wants to end bullying. Because where he’s from having a shitty pair of shoes is an indicator that you’re poor, and that’s good enough reason as any to beat the shit out of somebody. Sentiments like that are sprinkled throughout the video, yet every media site on the internet wrote this up as “Kanye West Goes Crazy on Ellen” and ran with the big takeaway quote “sorry for the realness daytime TV.” It’s frustrating to watch a clip like that (in which he’s trying so hard) be met with cries of “crazy!”

Kanye has a huge ego. Kanye is controversial. Kanye says things off-cuff and can hardly get a coherent thought out when he’s worked up enough. That’s all true. Does that make him an asshole?

As I write this, Kanye is sitting in a hospital in LA after being rushed there for medical treatment. The legacy he leaves will be monumental, but I’m worried that too many people won’t see that until he’s gone. All I’m asking is to be subjective. Listen to him. He may be hard to understand but listen. Give him a fair shot because there are two sides to every story, and more often than not, the negative one is the side that ends up being printed.

Let’s make efforts towards destigmatizing mental health. Let’s help each other and listen.

Kanye is a husband and a father.

Kanye loves God.

Kanye loves his mom.

Kanye is a person and he fucks up.

Give him a break.

Shame, Shame, Shame

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I’m going to pretend for a moment that I have dedicated readers or a following of any sort on here and say that I’m sorry. While I adored my last Taylor Swift-related post I didn’t mean for it to be my last. I never meant to take a month-long break, but it just sort of happened.

I’ve been working on a bunch of cool projects (which are all in various stages of completion) and working a freelance gig while I search for a job (all while still working my old retail gig on the weekends.) It’s a lot, to say the least, and I feel bad that this blog has fallen by the wayside.

I’ve got about 20 half-written articles and posts that I’m really stoked on, but I just haven’t found the time to carry them across the finish line. Some of them are now horribly outdated (song of the summer anyone?) but I’m still going to make an effort to post here more regularly, especially with the holidays upon us and all the traditions that brings.

So if you care, sorry. I’m still here cooking up cool stuff and writing a lot, but just not as much on this blog. I will have some stuff soon, but at this point, it’s more about time than anything else.

Love ya

Taylor Swift, Musical Expectations, and Pre-workout Traditions

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I’m a fucking weirdo. This blog (for better or worse) is a place for me to dissect my taste and the bizarre associations that my mind has created over 23 years. This particular post covers a quirk so weird that I can just say it straight-faced and it will be hilarious: I listen to Taylor Swift before I hit the gym. Yup.

As previously discussed, I am a creature of habit, and now Taylor Swift is as seasonal as pumpkin pie. What initially started as a morbidly ironic interest slowly morphed into genuine love which has now mutated into a nostalgic tradition that I’m as embarrassed by as I am perplexed. A second recurring theme I’m discovering through writing here is me thinking that I’m too cool or hardcore for whatever is currently popular. I first heard of Taylor Swift in 2009 as “Love Story” was capturing the hearts and minds of teenage girls and emotionally-stunned women across the nation. I dismissed the song as pop trash, shook my head and went back to whatever inaccessible metal I was listening to at the time.

Aside from my unwavering dismissal of all pop music during this period, I also disliked the fact that this particular song lived in such a gray area between pop and country. It was a milquetoast bastardization of two genres that I actively hated. Why I wasted so much mental energy on this type of negativity is beyond me, but I’ll retroactively chalk it up to aimless teenage frustration. What I didn’t know in 2012 was that Taylor Swift’s Red represented her first direct movement towards pure pop music and away from her country(ish) roots.

I, like the rest of the general populace, was first exposed to Swift’s “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” in the fall of 2012 as the song rapidly reached saturation point. I first heard the track through the hilarious Who Charted Podcast in which two comedians discuss the most popular music and movies of the past week. As the hosts ramped up to throw to the song my skin started to crawl. I knew what was coming, and I knew I wasn’t going to like it. I braced myself for the worst… then the song started. I loved it. I went in with my cochlear-guard up and ended up being disarmed by the song almost immediately.

At the end of the day, Taylor Swift is just pop music. Her job is to make something catchy that’s inoffensive and immediately appealing. So why did I like this when I was so against her music before? I think it all came down to expectations. Time and time again I’ve been disappointed by albums that I’ve mentally hyped up for months. I’ve also ended up absolutely adoring releases that I’ve gone into expecting way less after seeing negative reactions online. It just goes to show how much preconceived ideas, negativity, and the Internet in general can infect art. On one hand, it’s hard to not have expectations about something you’re looking forward to, but on the other hand, if your bar is too low or too high you risk being way off base and coming out disappointed.

At any rate, I went into this Taylor Swift song expecting a shiny plate of pop dog shit but ended up becoming absolutely hooked. The crisp opening note made me perk up. The half-reversed guitar riff made me listen even harder. Then Swift entered delivering a saccharine (but biting) line in a half-sung valley girl voice. Behind all this, a steady drum beat was carrying the song forward with an unstoppable momentum. A bouncy bass enters just before Swift sings the pre-chorus, and then the beat explodes as the song’s soaring chorus begins. After the second sarcasm-laden verse about her indie music elitist ex-boyfriend, the second chorus starts, and everything comes together instrumentally as Swift belts the title of the song out at the top of her lungs. By the third chorus, a subtle banjo enters the mix and Swift’s double tracked vocals begin interacting with each other while still echoing the same sentiment. “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” is a near-perfect shining example of the euphoric highs that pop music can achieve. Beyond that, it’s also a middle finger pointed directly at shitty exes, hopeless relationships, and pointless fights. It’s cathartic.

Later on in the same year, Swift released “I Knew You Were Trouble” as a follow-up single, and (it’s embarrassing to say, but) that song completely dismantled any other remaining reservations I had about Swift and pop music in general. It’s a very “2012 song” in that it’s loosely dubstep influenced with a wavy electronic sound and a beat drop near the end of the chorus. But this is the song that made me realize pop didn’t have to be (and couldn’t be) placed in the box that I’d previously created in my head. I’ve already discussed my love for 2006 pop music, but Taylor Swift (combined with the frank pop music discussion on Who Charted) gave me a newfound appreciation for the genre. Up until this point, pop music had never been something I’d actively searched out, but Swift single-handedly changed that.

I’m not quite sure how it first started, but one day I just happened to be listening to “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” on the way to the gym and discovered that I had subconsciously memorized every word. Whoops. The only time I felt comfortable flexing this embarrassingly extensive knowledge was in the privacy of my car. I could sing. I could sing as loud as I wanted and let muscle memory carry me and my car towards the gym. Immediately after, I followed that song up with Weezer’s “El Scorcho” presumably to check that my previous musical taste remained intact.

From there I simply reinforced my own tradition. I listened to “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” chased with “El Scorcho” for weeks upon weeks. Aside from knowing all the words to both songs, something about the (not-so-subtle) middle finger Swift was pointing towards her ex in that song drove me. The song was bouncy and light enough to pump me up, but still bitter and resentful enough to motivate me.

I’d start to interchange “Back Together” with “Trouble” after a few months, but I ended up burning myself out on both songs sometime around the beginning of 2013. I moved onto other songs because I realized it was actually helpful to make a song or two my pre-gym soundtrack since it got me into an irreversible mindset that could only be satiated by hours of cardio.

But from that point on I paid attention to Swift. Her fifth album and full-pop crossover 1989, her collaboration with Kendrick Lamar, Ryan Adam’s unironic cover of 1989, and Father John Misty’s (wholly ironic) Lou Reed covers all made their way onto a dark (but happy) pop corner of my phone. Swift has since gone on to reveal herself as the pop-music equivalent of the popular girl who acts nice in person then talks shit behind your back. This recent feud with Kanye West and camp Kardashian combined with her breadcrumb trail of exes and her feuds with other pop artists all seem to confirm the hypothesis that Swift is a snake and a liar who is likely playing the “America’s Sweetheart” card for album sales… but sometimes you have to separate an artist from their art.

I’m a fan of Swift because she’s made some incredibly catchy and well-produced pop songs. When you say “pop music” in 2016, it’s likely that 9/10 people would say “Taylor Swift” and I think that is motherfucking impressive. The two songs that sparked this, (like many others) are irrevocably tied to the fall/winter season and now serve as massive heaps of nostalgia fuel for me. I’ll still bust out that old pre-workout playlist to get me pumped up every fall, and Swift has become another in a long list of fucking weird bizarre traditions I’ve created for myself that make zero sense on their own. Whether a thirteen-year-old boy obsessively watching VH1, or a 20-something singing Taylor Swift to his steering wheel on the way to the gym, I’m a fucking weirdo. But hey, Taylor Swift: thanks for all the burned calories.

Art and the Freedom to be Weird

I’m pretty lenient when it comes to art. I’ve always hated the debate over art “is” because I truly believe there’s beauty in everything, and trying to constitute what is and isn’t art just leads to shitty semantic debates. Even some low-effort installation created in irony to make you question “is this art?” still has a point to it. Art is made by people that need to get something out of themselves. Sometimes it’s music, sometimes it’s a 20-foot sculpture. It’s not always pretty, but it’s a way for us to speak a different language and express the inexpressible.

Aside from music, writing, and the occasional video game, my free time is mostly spent mindlessly scrolling through reddit. A few weeks ago I stumbled across a link to an AV Club article that brought back a flood of nostalgic emotions. The article in question breaks down this specific kernel of nostalgia far better than I ever could, and as much as I’d love to talk about this book, I wouldn’t be able to add much on to what’s already written here. This article stirred something in me that made me question my taste in regards to art. Not music, not movies, not the written word, but Art with a capital ‘A’

I don’t often talk about visual art on here because I feel like I don’t have the vocabulary for it. I know what I like, but I never really questioned why I like it. When I say that I’m “lenient” in regards to art I mean that I’m not picky, and that’s another reason why I don’t talk about art; I kinda like it all. I don’t have a very discerning taste because I feel like I can (almost) always find the beauty in art. What I’ve come to realize is that while I enjoy all art passively, what I actively enjoy is fucked up.

The reason this article struck a chord with me is because it connected some dots in my mind and brought back a flood of memories that helped me remember a string of bizarre things I was exposed to as a child. It brought me back to a formative time in my childhood and helped me remember a series of massively impactful experiences that changed my artistic taste and lingered with me for the rest of my life.

1 - Lane Smith

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The inspiration for this post was also, fittingly, one of my first memorable exposures to a unique art style. Again, the write-up above does a more articulate job of analytically breaking down Smith’s style, but more importantly, it served as the catalyst which helped me realize that two of my favorite books in elementary school were illustrated by the same person: Lane Smith. As a child, I read The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales, andThe True Story of the Three Little Pigs ad nauseum. Both of these books are categorized as “postmodern children’s books” which skew and satirize traditional children’s fairy tales. If you have any doubt about where my overbearing skepticism and incessant irreverence come from, make no mistake the seeds were first planted here. Smith’s dadaist take on these stories is absolutely incredible. Filled with abnormally long tounges, contorted caricatures, and general fuckedupedness, these books helped me look at the world differently.

Seeing something as simple as a cow drawn in such a foreign style made me realize how different other people’s perspectives and interpretations could be. To see so many concepts that I was already familiar with (both visually and storywise) made me realize that not only were these bizarre interpretations valid, but they still worked. I still recognized this duck as a duck even though it didn’t take a “traditional” form that I was familiar with. These unique illustrations combined with the meta post-modern writing style were a door-opening combination for an elementary school-aged Taylor. There was no turning back.

2 - Stephen Gammell

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Jesus Christ. If there was any indication that I had a fucked up start, it was first evident here. While I certainly loved Stinky Cheese Man, and The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, later on in elementary school I was forced to read more “substantive” books (i.e. smaller text) so I looked for something with a cool cover (how else are you supposed to pick reading material at seven?) As I sifted through the contents of my Elementary school’s shelves like a shitty, snot-nosed seven-year-old record collector I stumbled across something that stopped me in my tracks and made my hair stand on end: Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. Illustrated by  Stephen Gammell, these books were (and still are) absolutely chilling. The short stories ranged from rewritten classics to modern urban legends, and while the written contents of the book were amazing, the real draw for me at the time was the art. A simple google image search returns a myriad of illustrations that I can only describe as unsafe for children. I don’t know how or why this book was allowed in an elementary school library, but I have a feeling that’s something that wouldn’t be allowed in 2016.

This was my first time realizing that art could be weird. Not that I’d had massive exposure to high art as a seven-year-old, but it felt like the first time I was looking at something completely unique. It was like viewing the world through a whole new (disturbed) lense. It scared me, but in a good way. It looked cool. It looked otherworldly. I wanted more.

3 - Gerald Scarfe

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In 1998 my family bought a beach house in Manzanita, Oregon. That log cabin was a magical place and it contains some of the happiest memories of my childhood. My family took a trip down to the beach nearly every weekend. It became an escape. One particular weekend I went alone, just me and my dad. My mother stayed home with my younger brother, so it was a father/son weekend… which probably would have meant more to me if I wasn’t still in elementary school. On this trip my dad let me watch Pink Floyd’s The Wall, a movie that I was apparently just on the verge of being able to handle. While I’m sure he meant well (he just wanted to share his music with me) The Wall fucking scarred me. It was R-rated, sure but I think (aside from wanting to show me my first R-rated movie) my dad forgot how dark the movie was. Everything from the masked schoolchildren, graphic violence, and obtuse depiction of sex scared the absolute shit out of me. Now that I think about it, this movie is probably the reason I’m so freaked out by gas masks. Just take a look at the IMDB Parents Guide to this thing… I was a kid who was too scared to watch this scene from Winnie the Pooh a few years earlier.

Aside from the minor emotional scarring, my biggest takeaway from The Wall were the film’s animated sequences. The movie covers a double album it switches between live action and animated for many of the songs. Probably because of my age, I paid more attention to the animated sequences thinking “hey it’s like a cartoon, cartoons can’t be scary!’ The animated segments of the movie drawn by Gerald Scarfe were in retrospect more surreal and depraved than the film’s live action counterparts. Most notably the film’s dark and horrifying depiction of war (in reaction to WWII) was seared into my mind. Similar to the above entries, Scarfe’s distinct style granted me a new perspective, in this case, it was a twisted perspective of morphing objects, violence, and sexual intimacy, but it was a new perspective nonetheless.

4 - Jonathan Gourley & Ralph Steadman

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On a more positive note, as I grew and developed into an adult with an only slightly-fucked up artistic taste I tended to lean towards abstract and disturbing artwork (who woulda thought?) In high school I discovered both rock band Portugal. The Man and writer Hunter S. Thompson both artists who utilize surrealist imagery to enhance their respective creations. Portugal. The Man uses lead singer John Gourley’s watercolored artwork as the cover and liner artwork to most of their records. Meanwhile, Hunter S. Thompson famously used Ralph Steadman’s artwork as a visual component to his books Fear and Loathing in Las Vegasand Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ‘72. These artists combined with things I’d find around the same time like Wednesday Wolf all represented a further development of the style I was drawn to as a child.

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Personal history obviously plays a major role in my taste, but emotion aside, I can’t really explain the psychological reason why I’m drawn to such a distorted art style. Maybe seeing the “scary” view of something makes the real world that much brighter. Maybe it’s just seeing these everyday concepts twisted and distorted to such a degree that they’re almost unrecognizable. Maybe I just like art that resembles drug use. I have no idea. But in looking back at all this, one thing is clear:

I have a fucked up taste. I’m lucky.

I don’t want to end this on a note of me masturbating to how great my own taste is, but I genuinely feel fortunate that I had the freedom and access to take this path. Being able to have a fucked up taste, or an off-kilter personality is a luxury that can only be afforded by growing up unafraid. If I had grown up in a harsher environment, I wouldn’t have had the freedom to explore “weird” stuff because I’d be too preoccupied with fending for myself and trying to be cool. I never had to deal with bullying, racism, discrimination, poverty, or violence, so I was able to flourish and be whoever I wanted to be. I’m grateful in that sense, but I’m also hopeful. I’m hopeful that I can culture the same environment for my children one day, and I’m hopeful that this path will keep me open. I don’t want to be one of those people that shits on art, or is “scared” by art… and not scared in the same way that I was when watching The Wall, but scared in the way Christians were afraid of heavy metal in the 80’s. I don’t want to be scared of the next thing, I want to embrace it. Even if it’s weird or confusing, I want to at least have some grip on art and pop culture as I grow older… but I know that’s impossible. You can only be “cool” for so long, but I think this “open” mentality can be eternal.

Remaining open to new experiences and weird fucked up shit can only open your mind. Sometimes you’re not ready for it. Sometimes it doesn’t make sense, and that’s fine, but sometimes it can click with you in a way you couldn’t even conceive of before. The times when you see something, or read something, or hear something and say “fuck, why didn’t I think of that?” or “shit, this exact sound is exactly what I needed to hear right now.” The times when you’re tapped into something greater than yourself, when you’re experiencing something on a spiritual level, when you feel connected to another creator. That’s what art is about. That’s what life is about.