March Albums of the Month
Our picks for the first month of (kinda) spring
Shelter – Alice Phoebe Lou
gentle, warm, romantic
As the weather gets warmer this month, I have found myself frequently choosing Alice Phoebe Lou’s Shelter as my walking companion. Shelter is a soothing ballad of self love and discovery. It’s a guide to enjoying one’s own company and the slower moments of life. I have recently realized I need to learn to be content with being alone in order to have healthier relationships with others, and this album has helped in guiding me through that. One of my favorite songs of all time, “Halo,” explores the joys and wonders of being alone, and the realization that “sometimes you gotta find that sense of mission for yourself.” Despite the growing stress of midterms, Shelter reminds me to slow down, take care of myself, and enjoy the sunshine. –Zoe Stern
Breath from Another – Esthero
ethereal, contemplative, swanky
So, for Winter Term, I went solo traveling around NYC, just kinda observing arthouse movie theaters and their programming. It was honestly a super meditative and reflective trip, which I loved. Running around a city by yourself for two weeks is honestly one of the best feelings in the world. On one of my off nights, I went out to dinner in Bushwick with a family friend (shoutout Gates!) who has been in the club/bar scene in the city for years and is one of the coolest people I know. I was yapping about how much I love trip-hop, but I always struggle finding gems of albums. As a trip-hop connoisseur himself, he suggested Breath from Another from this artist Esthero, whom I had never heard of. In the Uber on the way home I listened to it, and it literally blew my mind! It has been almost all that I’ve listened to for the last two/three months. Esthero’s vocals are insane, and it’s one of the best mixed albums I’ve ever heard. It perfectly mixes in the hip-hop aspects of the genre. It’s been perfect for getting back into the college rhythm, whether that be as study music or even a pre-game soundtrack. Literally just the most universal album ever. –Charley Burns
Twin Fantasy (Face to Face) – Car Seat Headrest
poetic, life-sized, cerebral
Three years ago, as a junior in high school, I wrote a terrible personal essay about Twin Fantasy (used here to refer collectively to 2011’s Mirror to Mirror and 2018’s Face to Face). This month, I’ve been working on a less terrible, less personal (but still kind of personal) essay on the subject. So I’ve been listening to and thinking about Twin Fantasy a lot, but especially Face to Face. Face to Face encapsulates how it feels to look back on the most intense experiences of your formative years — and the creative work fueled by those experiences — from a more grounded perspective. In its reflection on a fraught, lovelorn adolescence, Face to Face masterfully creates a certain timelessness, one that doesn’t deny the weight of the past but makes a point of looking toward the future and embracing its ambiguity. Mirror to Mirror was frontman Will Toledo trying desperately to fit his life into this neat narrative with a tragic conclusion; Face to Face is accepting the grief of not the conclusion to that narrative, but of the realization that his life never had a clear-cut plot in the first place. I could (and do, sporadically) write at length about every track, but here, I want to highlight the new appreciation I’ve gained for “Famous Prophets (Stars).” I won’t get into all the details — this is already a little long for an AotM writeup — but I’ll leave us with my favorite line: “And when the mirror breaks / I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” –Sloane DiBari
The Argument – Fugazi
interrogative, sharp, fiery
It’s hard to find an album to soundtrack that period in March where it’s 65 degrees one day and 33 the next, but I’m convinced that Fugazi’s final studio album is perfect for it. A radical departure from the thrashing and convulsing nature of their most famous work, The Argument is meditative, melodic, and beautifully arranged (Cellos? Piano? Two drum kits? From the guys who used to be hardcore punk royalty in Minor Threat and Rites of Spring? The fuck?) However, this record might have the greatest political and social conviction of any Fugazi record, examining issues of gentrification (“Cashout”), liberty (“The Kill”), and the ethics of punk itself (the incredible closing track). Ian MacKaye and Guy Picciotto’s vocals are no less seething and critical in their late 30s than when they were teenagers, and their vocal chemistry is fantastic. The guitar interplay on this record goes between silky and warm one minute, icy and thrashing the next. The cold atmosphere of the album is a display of anger, but mature anger; uncertainty confronted with nuanced thought. There are many times I walk through campus at night accompanied only by this album, and I seldom get bored. –Owen Neaman
Kaputt – Destroyer
mesmerizing, dreamlike, melodic
I was first introduced to Destroyer’s 2011 album Kaputt by another blog member this September (shoutout Sloane!), and was immediately struck by how the lyrics float over the gorgeous, textured instrumentals. Jazz, pop, and rock blend seamlessly into a haze of synth and trumpets that feels at once glossy and grimy. Kaputt is at times described as yacht-pop-like, but though I’m also reminded of sailing when I listen – the music has a sort of lulling wavelike feel to it – the ocean I’m reminded of is less that of yachts and more of the coastline at dusk, foggy and mesmerizingly vast. “Bay of Pigs (Detail),” the album’s final song, probably influenced me here, since its lyrics describe the ocean in a number of ways, all of which convey more of the ocean’s limitless nature and hidden depths than the feelings of sailing on a sunny day. This month, I’ve listened to “Bay of Pigs (Detail)” so much I think I have it entirely memorized, no small feat for a song that’s 11 minutes long. Like all the songs on this album, it is a totally transporting piece of music, and very hard to describe in any way that does it justice. Kaputt is rhythmic, full of movement, but also almost seems to hover in the air. It’s grounded in and completely divorced from physical place. It’s hazy and clear as day. It’s in the desert, the city, on a ship. At the opera and the pier. I don’t know. You just have to listen. –Natasha Dracobly
Getz/Gilberto – Stan Getz and João Gilberto feat. Antônio Carlos Jobim
whimsical, calming, groovy
In 2022, this album introduced me to the wonderful world of traditional bossa nova. So much so that I bought the physical record. But I don’t own a record player, so my love for this album got lost under the sea of jazz music that I have discovered since then. But the other day, the sticky tack that I used to hang the record failed me, and I watched the disc plummet to the floor. I thought to myself, “wow, that record is totally fucked,” but that moment inspired me to revisit Getz/Gilberto. As the weather gets warmer, this album is perfect for a morning stroll to class as the sun beats down on your face. But it's also great for a long study session in Mudd, a post-co-op party wind down, or just sitting on Wilder Bowl with friends. –Ebun Lawore
bootleg (+) – Isyti
mysterious, electrifying, terminally online
March feels like it's going by in a flash. Between the impending doom of midterms and a schedule jam-packed with concerts and recitals (I’d like) to go to, I feel like I’m being dragged along a railroad track like an NPC in Red Dead Redemption 2. I’ve had a really hard time choosing my album of the month: honorable mentions go to Milton Nascimento and Lô Borges’ timeless Clube da Esquina and Bladee’s (probable) masterpiece Exeter. However, only one album could properly embody the rush of March: Isyti’s 2022 hard trance debut bootleg (+). Originally uploaded to YouTube as a bootleg compilation of Isyti singles, internet-based label Dismiss Yourself gave it an official release shortly afterwards. bootleg (+) was instantly dated: the AI-generated cover art that might’ve been novel in 2022 comes off as poor taste today, and the album’s repackaged retro dance aesthetic can feel disingenuous. While I could write an entire essay defending the cover art as a product of its time that constructively engages with both the “goopy” aesthetics of early AI art and the trend of nostalgic 2000s video game and dance pastiche, this is not the place to do it. It's intriguing and a little funny that an album from less than 3 years ago can feel so dated, but it doesn’t matter when the tracks are banging. Every song on bootleg (+) follows the same stylistic formula: pounding hardcore kicks, clattering percussion, and warm, grainy leads. If the album feels one-note, it’s not really a problem, as bootleg (+) goes by in a concise 22 minutes, a collection of tiny trance tunes for the Soundcloud era. Recommended for power walking to your 9 a.m. class, writing an entire essay on the day it's due, or running up and down the secret Wilder staircase. –Benjamin Rosielle
The Sacrificial Code – Kali Malone
somber, meditative, minimalist
Ambient music isn’t something I was familiar with at all, but this winter I found myself playing Grouper’s Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill and Ethel Cain’s latest album Perverts on repeat, and my interest was piqued. Exploring the genre has been a fun challenge. Since my ears are so used to constant, fast-paced stimulation, I found myself needing to really focus on my listening in order to get as much out of it as I could. My favorite recent ambient discovery is the organ drone album The Sacrificial Code by Kali Malone. The overlapping textures of the organs are mesmerizing and all encompassing. There’s enough movement to keep me from getting truly bored, which made it a great album for an ambient beginner like me. I felt like attentive listening was really rewarded here, such as in “Rose Wreath Crown (for cw)” where meditative and somber foundations slowly build to clear high notes that feel like rays of sunlight piercing through clouds. There’s a great sense of tension and release throughout the whole album. I like to put this on while I’m at work or studying, it kind of makes me feel like a monk. Other organ albums I’ve been into lately are Ceremony by Anna von Hausswolff and Cantus, Descant, by Sarah Davachi. Still, Sacrificial Code might be my favorite of the bunch, with its careful restraint and resonant melodies. –Fern Slater
Hounds of Love – Kate Bush
mystical, entrancing, yearning
Upon my discovery of my middle school iPod, I’ve been revisiting some albums my mom uploaded onto it at my impressionable young age of 12, hoping to instill a pretentious taste in me. My mom is a diehard Kate Bush fan; as a child, I woke up to Bush’s captivating voice most weekends, The Dreaming blasting from my mom’s stereo. I have found Bush’s 1985 album Hounds of Love creates the perfect soundtrack for my early morning walks to work. With each day feeling closer to spring yet followed by a new bout of snow, Bush’s mesmerizing voice, light and high, has prepped me for skipping through what I hope to soon be blooming fields. In contrast, the heavy intense strings and keys accompanying her vocals on most tracks keeps me feeling grounded and warm, shielded against the cruel Ohio winds. The audio clip beginnings to the songs “Waking the Witch” and “Hello Earth” put me on edge with the same haste that “The Big Sky” and “And Dream of Sheep” have me dancing. Overall, I cannot get enough of this album and the listening experience is only enhanced through my crappy old earbuds that give me a little shock when I hit play. This is truly a no skip album, with each track delivering unforgettable sound and vocals to give a grown man chills. –Rhys Hals