American Songwriter's Best Albums of 2021

“Right then, I’m ready,” Adele says quietly at the close of *30*’s opening track, “Strangers By Nature.” It feels like a moment of gentle—but firm—self-encouragement. This album is something that clearly required a few deep breaths for Tottenham’s most celebrated export. “There were moments when I was writing these songs, and even when I was mixing them and stuff like that, where I was like, ‘Maybe I don\'t need to put this album out,’” she tells Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. “Like, ‘Maybe I should write another.’ Just because music is my therapy. I\'m never going into the studio to be like, ‘Right, I need another hit.’ It\'s not like that for me. When something is more powerful and overwhelming \[to\] me, I like to go to a studio, because it\'s normally a basement and there\'s no fucking windows and no reception, so no one can get ahold of me. So I\'m basically running away. And no one would\'ve known I\'d written that record. Maybe I just had to get it out of my system.” But, almost two years after much of it was completed, Adele did release *30*. And remarkably, considering the world has been using her back catalog to channel its rawest emotions since 2008, this is easily Adele’s most vulnerable record. It concerns itself with Big Things Only—crippling guilt over her 2019 divorce, motherhood, daring to date as one of the world’s most famous people, falling in love—capturing perfectly the wobbly resolve of a broken heart in repair. Its songs often feel sentimental in a way that’s unusually warm and inviting, very California, and crucially: *earned*. “The album is for my son, for Angelo,” she says. “I knew I had to tell his story in a song because it was very clear he was feeling it, even though I thought I was doing a very good job of being like, ‘Everything’s fine.’ But I also knew I wasn’t being as present. I was just so consumed by so many different feelings. And he plucked up the courage to very articulately say to me, ‘You’re basically a ghost. You might as well not be here.’ What kind of poet is that? For him to be little and say ‘I can’t see you’ to my face broke my heart.” This is also Adele’s most confident album sonically. She fancied paying tribute to Judy Garland with Swedish composer Ludwig Göransson (“Strangers By Nature”), so she did. “I’d watched the Judy Garland biopic,” she says. “And I remember thinking, ‘Why did everyone stop writing such incredible melodies and cadences and harmonies?’” She felt comfortable working heartbreaking bedside chats with her young son and a voice memo documenting her own fragile mental state into her music on “My Little Love.” “While I was writing it, I just remember thinking of any child that’s been through divorce or any person that has been though a divorce themselves, or anyone that wants to leave a relationship and never will,” she says. “I thought about all of them, because my divorce really humanized my parents for me.” The album does not steep in sorrow and regret, however: There’s a Max Martin blockbuster with a whistled chorus (“Can I Get It”), a twinkling interlude sampling iconic jazz pianist Erroll Garner (“All Night Parking”), and the fruits of a new creative partnership with Dean Josiah Cover—aka Michael Kiwanuka, Sault, and Little Simz producer Inflo. “The minute I realized he \[Inflo\] was from North London, I wouldn’t stop talking to him,” she says. “We got no work done. It was only a couple of months after I’d left my marriage, and we got on so well, but he could feel that something was wrong. He knew that something dark was happening in me. I just opened up. I was dying for someone to ask me how I was.” One of the Inflo tracks, “Hold On,” is the album’s centerpiece. Rolling through self-loathing (“I swear to god, I am such a mess/The harder that I try, I regress”) into instantly quotable revelations (“Sometimes loneliness is the only rest we get”) before reaching show-stopping defiance (“Let time be patient, let pain be gracious/Love will soon come, if you just hold on”), the song accesses something like final-form Adele. It’s a rainbow of emotions, it’s got a choir (“I got my friends to come and sing,” she tells Apple Music), and she hits notes we’ll all only dare tackle in cars, solo. “I definitely lost hope a number of times that I’d ever find my joy again,” she says. “I remember I didn’t barely laugh for about a year. But I didn’t realize I was making progress until I wrote ‘Hold On’ and listened to it back. Later, I was like, ‘Oh, fuck, I’ve really learned a lot. I’ve really come a long way.’” So, after all this, is Adele happy that *30* found its way to the world? “It really helped me, this album,” she says. “I really think that some of the songs on this album could really help people, really change people’s lives. A song like ‘Hold On’ could actually save a few lives.” It’s also an album she feels could support fellow artists. “I think it’s an important record for them to hear,” she says. “The ones that I feel are being encouraged not to value their own art, and that everything should be massive and everything should be ‘get it while you can’… I just wanted to remind them that you don’t need to be in everyone’s faces all the time. And also, you can really write from your stomach, if you want.”

A lot changed for Amythyst Kiah between the 2013 release of her debut album *Dig* and the making of *Wary + Strange*. The singer, songwriter, and instrumentalist gained significant notoriety as part of the roots music supergroup Our Native Daughters, with whom she earned a Grammy nomination (Best American Roots Song) for the song “Black Myself,” on which Kiah was the sole songwriter. Kiah reprises that powerful track here, though she does so in a way truer to her own personal musical sensibilities by fusing her love for both old-time music, which she studied at East Tennessee State University, and indie rock. *Wary + Strange* finds a rich middle ground between these seemingly disparate genres, primarily via the strength of Kiah’s songwriting and singing, the latter of which deserves just as much celebration as her masterful guitar playing, as well as studio assists from producer Tony Berg (Phoebe Bridgers, Andrew Bird).

“This whole album is in questions,” Jack Antonoff tells Apple Music about the meaning behind *Take the Sadness Out of Saturday Night*, his third album as Bleachers. “I kept going back to these really dark stories that somehow spin you around and you\'re in this character, and you don\'t know why this hope exists. I was trying to access that part of myself.” The much-in-demand singer-songwriter and producer—whose credits in the past year alone include work with Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey, Lorde, and St. Vincent—is awash in joy and optimism as he lets things fall into place on these 10 tracks, trading the synth-pop glitz of his previous albums for sweeping, sax-tinged anthems and intimate acoustic confessionals. Antonoff wrote the songs in bits and pieces over the course of four years, though it wasn\'t until early 2020 that he began to record the album—mostly live in a studio with his touring bandmates. “I\'m always writing, and then at some point, an album will form or it won\'t—and when it starts to form, that\'s when I chase it,” he says. “It\'s a window into how I hear music. I don\'t craft records to be instant. I don\'t craft records to be growers. I just craft what I hear and feel in myself.” Here, he tells us the story behind every song on the album. **“91”** “The song, much like a poem, which Zadie Smith helped me write, functions where every lyric is tied to every verse but from a different angle. In the first verse, there’s this child version that can\'t understand what\'s happening. And you only recognize that you\'re here, but you\'re not, through the anxiety of your mother. In the second verse, it\'s a little bit more about anger. You\'re recognizing this part of yourself that you don\'t like through someone else, which is a pretty intense way of understanding it. If you have a feeling that\'s pretty harsh about someone else, there\'s a good chance it\'s really about you. And then, in the third verse, you finally get this unearned hope, and this lightness of actually having all the magic of being alive.” **“Chinatown” (feat. Bruce Springsteen)** “A lot of the music that I love to play sits in that place where it\'s doing two things: There\'s a literal and emotional thing that\'s coming from the same concept. It is going from New York over the George Washington Bridge into New Jersey. Literally and sonically, the song does that. The music sounds a little bit New York-y in the beginning, and then it gets more innate and hopeful and becomes more New Jersey and more suburban. It feels like going home.” **“How Dare You Want More”** “‘How Dare You Want More’ is this feeling I was seeing with friends and family. Everyone\'s going through this big struggle to have more, to ask for more, and to be in control of their life. I saw it was producing so much shame in other people, and therefore, really just myself. Why is it so hard? And I\'m not talking about more square footage. I\'m not talking about more money. I\'m talking about more of who you are so you can not have that strange feeling that keeps you up at night or makes you feel all fucked up in the morning, or makes you not grab at the things you want. It\'s a question that, if you keep asking yourself over and over and over again, can start to sound silly. And that\'s a good thing, because it is silly. It was a hallmark of the album, trying to move past this shame.” **“Big Life”** “It\'s a sibling track to ‘Secret Life.’ It\'s, in the most real and non-cynical way, falling so in love where you want to have a big life. You want to have all the experiences, and you want to take them with you on all these crazy journeys. And ‘Secret Life’ was the opposite, when you want to close every door. It\'s a pretty romantic concept to me. But the song is all about posing these wants. In a funny, funny way, I think it\'s the most vulnerable song on the album, even though it might not come off as it because the music is so confident.” **“Secret Life” (feat. Lana Del Rey)** “I do this thing a few times in the album where you have a feeling and you look at it from two polar-opposite positions. ‘Big Life’ is this ‘let me go out there, let me get burned, and let the world knock me over because I\'m trying to find love,’ right? I want a secret life where you and I can get bored out of our minds. It\'s not a chase. It\'s not running out there to prove something. It\'s a very optimistic song, which is basically when the chemicals wear off and you\'re really in it with someone. At first, maybe I thought it would be a duet with Lana where it could be conversational, but then I realized that if I just put some reverb on her voice and have her kind of crest over the second verse and the chorus, she\'s more like a dream of this person I\'m talking to.” **“Stop Making This Hurt”** “This one is a sibling song to ‘How Dare You Want More.’ ‘Stop Making This Hurt’ is just sort of a more petulant, pissed-off version. There\'s all this joy and hope about the next phase of your life. But then there\'s all this frustration about ‘I can\'t get through this doorway. Whatever I\'m carrying does not let me through.’ I was able to access this rage by talking about other people: my dad, my friends and their kids, the world, and a whole new generation of people that are inheriting so much crap. But at the end of the day, I\'m right in that struggle with all of them.” **“Don’t Go Dark”** “I\'d never written a song like this. It\'s not \'I love you.\' It\'s not \'I hate you.\' It\'s \'you\'ve got to get off my back. You\'ve got to let me go.\' I can\'t be me for new people who I\'m trying to love if I\'m holding your darkness. I can hold you and I can hold our past and all these things, but it can\'t happen. That\'s why the song is so tense. It feels like this plea and this release. I just didn\'t know what else to do besides write that song. It\'s probably the angriest song I\'ve ever written.” **“45”** “There\'s these pieces of us that, to the world, are gone. They\'re not gone—the people we love see them. When you meet someone new, or someone has been in your life for a while, they\'re bringing these pieces that, even if you know this person, you don\'t know and can learn to love them. It\'s exonerating. I can walk back into it in one second, even though no one else can see it.” **“Strange Behavior”** “I wrote the song a long time ago. I wanted to put it on the album because it’s the only song I\'ve ever written in the past that feels like it\'s still in the future for me. And at the time when I wrote it, I made it really loud and bombastic. I think I was a little bit afraid of it. I wanted to reapproach it with the confidence and vulnerability of how I feel now.” **“What’d I Do With All This Faith?”** “It\'s in many ways the most important song in the album, because the past two Bleachers albums I\'ve closed with this idea of being ready to move on. It\'s a literal lyric I\'ve put in the titles. They\'re these sort of ending pieces. And what I really came to is, that\'s it. I don\'t have God. I don\'t have a sureness about certain things in my personal life that I wish I did. But for some reason I\'m spilling over with faith, and I don\'t even know where to put it. That is the biggest question of the album: What do I do with all this faith?”

From Tim Burton’s classics like *Pee-wee’s Big Adventure* and *The Nightmare Before Christmas* to *The Simpsons*, Danny Elfman’s world-class scores have become indelible elements of some of the most beloved movies and TV shows of the past three decades. In preparing for a career-spanning live performance at the 2020 Coachella festival, Elfman began working on a set that would combine his film work with reimagined versions of songs from his old band, LA New Wave pioneers Oingo Boingo, and new chamber pop compositions written for a live rock band. When the festival was canceled due to the global pandemic, Elfman continued writing through lockdown and ended up with two albums’ worth of material, which he duly recorded with assistance from Robin Finck (Nine Inch Nails, Guns N’ Roses), Josh Freese (Weezer, Devo), Stu Brooks (Lady Gaga, Dub Trio), and renowned guitarist Nili Brosh. The result is *Big Mess*, his first solo album since 1984 and a collection of material unlike anything Elfman has previously created. “This came out of the shitstorm that was 2020,” he tells Apple Music. “I was feeling frustrated from every side, but particularly from what I was seeing in society. I haven’t seen the country so divided since the Vietnam War.” In channeling that frustration, Elfman combined symphony orchestration with traditional rock band elements to write some of the heaviest and most chaotic music of his career. “The songs were all coming out in pairs,” he says. “Heavy and fast and crazy, and then light—like each one was a reaction to the other. It felt like I was developing two different albums, hence the title. I became more and more aware of the fact that I have two very functional dysfunctional writers living inside me, and they don’t like each other.” Below, he discusses some of the key tracks from *Big Mess*. **“Sorry”** “This was my first song for *Big Mess*. It started as a concept piece about combining an orchestra and rock band in a way I’d been thinking about for a while. It ended up as an explosion of frustration and pent-up anger.” **“True”** “This song was a new thing for me, writing from such a personal place. It wasn\'t something I set out to do—it just happened. And it was also the song where I was finding a new voice for this album, because I clearly can’t sing as high as I used to. ‘True’ was the song where I was finding myself able to sing in a way that I couldn’t do 30 years ago. I was surprised by how dark it came out, but that’s where I was at in 2020 when I wrote it.” **“In Time”** “This is another personal song, reflecting on the passage of time and the end of everything. I don’t want to overexplain the lyrics, other than to say that the idea of finality was floating around in my mind and just kind of came to the surface in this song. It’s something that artists have been obsessed with for years. If you look at a Titian painting from the Renaissance, it’s about the transient, momentary thing that this life is.” **“Dance With the Lemurs”** “This is another personal reflection on my life and the process of aging. That sounds grim, but I feel like it’s a light song at the same time. I was surprised that I wrote about that topic—it feels like something I wouldn’t normally let out. At first, it felt too personal to even put out. I thought maybe I was going to just release the fun, fast stuff and keep songs like this in my own archives. But eventually I figured I should put it out.” **“Happy”** “I wanted to have a bit of fun creating a song that began like a bubbly pop song and slowly degraded into a subversive, nasty rant. At the beginning, the song pulls in one direction, and by the end you’re going, ‘What is this place I was lured into?’ It was kind of designed to be a little bit of a trap, like, ‘Come on in, it’s a nice safe place.’ And by the end, it’s really despicable.” **“Just a Human”** “This song is kind of a counterpoint to ‘Kick Me’—again, the songs were written in pairs. It’s part of the schizophrenic cacophony I was feeling during lockdown in 2020, when anger, frustration, and pure ridiculous absurdity were mixing all together in my mind.” **“Devil Take Away”** “This was totally off the cuff and just pure fun for me. I decided to just pick up the guitar, let it run amok, come up with improvised lyrics, and then not try to fix it. It was more of a really fun exercise more than anything else. I wrote this one after ‘Everybody Loves You,’ which is really elaborate, and I’m talking about God and my place on the planet. After that, I wanted to do something where no thought goes into it and I don’t go back and reshape it, which is typically how I write. So this was just pure improvisational mayhem.” **“Native Intelligence”** “This was a tricky one. I was still obsessed with ways of combining the orchestra strings and the band, and this was the song I was most pleased with in that exploration. I was also reflecting my feelings about the political moment of living in America in 2020.” **“Kick Me”** “Nothing is more fun for me than poking a stick in the eye of celebrity mentality and the unique love-hate relationship celebrities often have with their fans. People become celebrities for the most peculiar reasons, and we live in a time where one can be an enormous celebrity without even having any particular talent. The concept of celebrity and the relationship between celebrities and the public—this weird interdependency—has always fascinated me. I find it to be constantly humorous.” **“Insects”** “I had so much fun reworking this old Oingo Boingo song, I just had to include it.”

“I really wanted to make a whole cohesive project,” Genesis Owusu tells Apple Music of his debut album. “I wanted to make something akin to *To Pimp a Butterfly* and *Food and Liquor* and all the awesome concept albums that I grew up listening to.” The Ghanaian Australian artist named Kofi Owusu-Ansah’s debut LP is a powerful concept album that tackles depression and racism in equal measure, characterized here as two black dogs. “‘Black dog’ is a known euphemism for depression, but I’ve also been called a black dog as a racial slur. So I thought it was an interesting, all-encompassing term for what I wanted to talk about.” The music itself is vibrant and boundaryless, with elements of soul, hip-hop, post-punk, pop, and beyond, showcasing not only Genesis Owusu’s remarkable talent and creativity, but the influence of each band member he worked with to write and record, including Kirin J Callinan on guitar, Touch Sensitive (Michael Di Francesco) on bass, Julian Sudek on drums, and Andrew Klippel on keys—all of whom brought their backgrounds and influences to the table. “The album’s eclectic sound is a reflection of all of us as human beings, and also their interpretation of me from their own musical backgrounds,” he says. *Smiling With No Teeth* is split into two thematic halves, each focusing on one of the two black dogs. Owusu-Ansah talks through the entire concept in the track-by-track breakdown below. **On the Move!** “Up to this point in my career, I feel like I\'ve been categorized as ‘the funk guy,’ but a lot of those songs were created within the same two-week span. After those two weeks I was on to other stuff, but because the process of releasing music is so slow, that perception lingered about. So I wanted the intro to shatter that as soon as you press play. It’s explosive. You know something is coming.” **The Other Black Dog** “This song introduces the internal black dog character. Instrumentally, it feels like a movie chase scene. The internal black dog is chasing me through cracks and alleys, trying to be everywhere at once, reaching out, trying to engulf and embrace me. It was a very intentional, conceptual choice to have these songs sound upbeat, dancy, and sexy. But it\'s all a facade, it\'s all a fake smile when you really delve into it.” **Centrefold** “It’s told from the perspective of the black dog, as a sort of distorted love song from the place of an abuser. It doesn\'t respect you at all. It wants to consume you and use you for its own pleasure. And it manifests itself in this distorted love song that sounds groovy and sexy and alluring.” **Waitin’ on Ya** “It’s a sister track to ‘Centrefold.’ The through line has the same story.” **Don\'t Need You** “It’s back from the Genesis Owusu perspective, where the black dog has tried to lure you in, but you reach a point where you realize you can live without it. You don\'t need it, you can break free of those chains. It’s like an independence anthem: You’re breaking free from its clutches for the first time.” **Drown (feat. Kirin J Callinan)** “It continues on from ‘Don\'t Need You,’ analyzing the relationship from a more detached aspect, where you\'re realizing the black dog’s mannerisms. You can separate yourself from it so you\'re two individual beings. You can realize it’s a part of you that you have to let go. You are not your depression. You can make changes and separate yourself. Which leads to the chorus line, ‘You\'ve got to let me drown.’” **Gold Chains** “As an artist, I feel like I\'m just starting to turn some heads and break out, but I\'ve been touring and playing for years. Going from city to city in a van. Playing to no one. But so many people are like, ‘Oh, you\'re a rapper, right? Where\'s your gold chain? How much money do you have?’ So the song plays into the perception versus the reality—‘It looks so gold, but it can feel so cold in these chains.’ The music industry can exacerbate mental health issues and stuff like that, when you\'re overworked or commodified. Instead of an artist creating a product, you become the product.” **Smiling With No Teeth** “This is the center point. It’s encompassing the themes of the album from the narrator’s perspective rather than the black dog. It’s an intermission between Act One and Act Two.” **I Don\'t See Colour** “So much of Act One had honey and sweetness and upbeat tracks, but now we rip all that away. It showcases the personality of the next black dog, which is much more direct and brutal. They\'ve faced the brunt of racism and there’s no more sugarcoating. The extremely minimal instrumental is intentional, so you can completely focus on the lyrics, which are much more scathing. Being a Black person in white society and having to experience the brunt of racism, I\'m often also expected to be the bigger person and the educator. So this arc is validating the emotions and the venting that should be allowed. It’s therapeutic when you\'re faced with those circumstances.” **Black Dogs!** “It was produced by Matt Corby. This one and ‘Easy’ were the only two not produced by the band. It’s a straight-to-the-point song encompassing a day in the life of me, or just any Black person in Australia. It’s not that I\'m getting abused by police every day, but it\'s all the little microaggressions. Sonically speaking, it plays into how I feel every day, going into white spaces and feeling a bit paranoid.” **Whip Cracker** “It’s the ‘I\'ve had enough’ moment. The lyrics—‘Spit up on your grave/Hope my thoughts behave/We\'re so depraved’—play into the bogeymen that people want to see, but obviously as a satirical guise. And then it goes into bigots of all facets, essentially saying enough is enough, times have changed, it\'s over. And musically speaking, halfway through, it just explodes into this funk-rock section. It was very ‘What would Prince do?’” **Easy** “This one was produced by Harvey Sutherland. I was in Melbourne with him doing sessions, and I\'d just gone to the Invasion Day protest, so it was sparked from that. It’s about the relationship between Indigenous or native communities or just people of color, and the colonized country they\'re living in. One partner—the person of color—is fighting their way through a relationship with the very abusive partner that says they care about them and that they\'ll do things for them, but it\'s all lip service.” **A Song About Fishing** “This song started out as a jokey freestyle in the studio, but it turned into this weird parable about perseverance in dire circumstances. I feel like these last three songs are like Act Three of the album. They’re about both of the black dogs. Even though the circumstances seem so dire in the realms of depression and racism, I’m still getting up every day, trying my best and going to this lake where I can never catch any fish, but hoping that one day I\'ll snag something.” **No Looking Back** “It’s a pop ballad about how I\'ve gone through this journey and now I\'m finally ready to put these things behind me, enter a new phase of my life, and be a bigger and better person. It\'s like the transcendental conclusion of the album. And it\'s kind of a mantra: There’s no looking back. Like we\'ve gone through this and we\'re done, we\'re ready to move on.” **Bye Bye** “‘No Looking Back’ was going to be the final track of the album. It was going to end on a very positive note, but it was too much of a Hollywood ending for me. It felt unrealistic. I\'ve learnt a lot throughout my journey, but there’s no point where you can dust your hands off and be like, okay, racism over, depression over. So with ‘Bye Bye,’ the themes are crawling back to you. It signifies that this is an ongoing journey I\'m going to have to face. I had to be clear and real about it.”

On their second LP, Greta Van Fleet continues to bow at the altar of classic rock with a heavy dose of blues-soaked riffs and transcendent imagery. “Life’s the story of ascending to the stars as one,” vocalist Josh Kiszka sings with his gravelly tenor on “Heat Above,” an optimistic call-to-arms that soars high with flourishes of acoustic guitar and Hammond organ. But when they’re not pleading for divine unity, the Kiszka brothers—alongside drummer Danny Wagner—embrace stomping, self-empowering anthems (“My Way, Soon”), majestic hard rock with medieval motifs (“Age of Machine”), and pompous power ballads (“Tears of Rain”). Less urgent and more ambitious than 2018’s *Anthem of the Peaceful Army*, it’s an album that pushes ahead with technical prowess and lots of attitude. On the epic nine-minute closer “The Weight of Dreams,” the band ascends to the pearly gates as they proudly worship the almighty Zep: “Heaven sent us here to meet the hallowed shore/To claim the wealth that we had sold.”

When IDLES released their third album, *Ultra Mono*, in September 2020, singer Joe Talbot told Apple Music that it was focused on being present and, he said, “accepting who you are in that moment.” On the Bristol band’s fourth record, which arrived 14 months later, that perspective turns sharply back to the past as Talbot examines his struggles with addiction. “I started therapy and it was the first time I really started to compartmentalize the last 20 years, starting with my mum’s alcoholism and then learning to take accountability for what I’d done, all the bad decisions I’d made,” he tells Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. “But also where these bad decisions came from—as a forgiveness thing but way more as a responsibility thing. Two years sober, all that stuff, and I came out and it was just fluid, we \[Talbot and guitarist Mark Bowen\] both just wrote it and it was beautiful.” Talbot is unshrinkingly honest in his self-examination. Opener “MTT 420 RR” considers mortality via visceral reflections on a driving incident that the singer was fortunate to escape alive, before his experiences with the consuming cycle of addiction cut through the pneumatic riffs of “The Wheel.” There’s hope here, too. During soul-powered centerpiece “The Beachland Ballroom,” Talbot is as impassioned as ever and newly melodic (“It was a conversation we had, I wanted to start singing”). It’s a song where he’s on his knees but he can discern some light. “The plurality of it is that perspective of *CRAWLER*, the title,” he says. “Recovery isn’t just a beautiful thing, you have to go through a lot of processes that are ugly and you’ve got to look at yourself and go, ‘Yeah, you were not a good person to these people, you did this.’ That’s where the beauty comes from—afterwards you have a wider perspective of where you are. And also from other people’s perspectives, you see these things, you see people recovering or completely enthralled in addiction, and it’s all different angles. We wanted to create a picture of recovery and hope but from ugly and beautiful angles. You’re on your knees, some people are begging, some people are working, praying, whatever it is—you’ve got to get through it.” *CRAWLER* may be IDLES’ most introspective work to date, but their social and political focus remains sharp enough on the tightly coiled “The New Sensation” to skewer Conservative MP Rishi Sunak’s suggestion that some people, including artists and musicians, should abandon their careers and retrain in a post-pandemic world. With its rage and wit, its bleakness and hope, and its diversions from the band’s post-punk foundations into ominous electronica (“MTT 420 RR”), glitchy psych textures (“Progress”), and motorik rhythms butting up against free jazz (“Meds”), *CRAWLER* upholds Talbot’s earliest aims for the band. In 2009, he resolved to create something with substance and impact—an antidote to the bands he’d watched in Bristol and London. “They looked beautiful but bored,” he says. “They were clothes hangers, models. I was so sick of paying money to see bored people. Like, ‘What are you doing? Where’s the love?’ I was at a place where I needed an outlet, and luckily I found four brothers who saved my life. And the rest is IDLES.”

“I like to use the inspiration from the past and combine it with the things that are in the present to create the future,” Jon Batiste says about *WE ARE*, a collection of autobiographical sketches that explore pivotal moments from his life and how they connect with his lineage. “We\'re finally at a point where we\'re starting to untangle the way that my grandparents, and even my parents, experienced America. It feels like the culmination in the coming of age of what many generations have built, fought for, and poured into.” The Louisiana-born pianist, composer, and bandleader/musical director of Stay Human, the house band for *The Late Show With Stephen Colbert*, came up with the blueprint for the album during a six-day period from his dressing room at the Ed Sullivan Theater alongside singer-songwriter Autumn Rowe. But it took him eight months of bringing in the right collaborators to help meld his narrative with classic and modern styles of R&B, jazz, gospel, soul, and hip-hop into a body-shaking celebration. “As heavy as these themes are, the overall message of the album is love, joy, and community,” Batiste says. “That, and also the power of social revolution, in the sense of what we have to do in the culture to make room for everybody to be able to fully be who they are.” Here, Batiste guides us through his life journey. **WE ARE** “‘WE ARE’ is the overture of the album. I wanted to have the marching band from my high school on this record, because it\'s a historically Black high school that has a lot of legendary alumni. I was in that high school band and I graduated from that school. It also features three of four generations of my family. My grandfather and my nephews are all on this track. It was a really special one because it goes from Southern marching band culture to gospel to what I call \'horror disco,\' all within the span of four minutes.” **TELL THE TRUTH** “We recorded it at the legendary Sound City recording studios \[in Los Angeles\]. All of us were in the same room at the same time, and it was done in one take. James Gadson, who plays the drums, played with Bill Withers and on all the classic records with the Jackson 5. He\'s a living legend who still plays like he was in his prime. It’s about the advice that my dad told me when I was 17 years old, when I left New Orleans to move to New York and go to Juilliard to start my career. He told me to stay true to who I am, no matter what you\'re looking for, no matter what you\'re looking to do.” **CRY** “The loss of innocence is something that is not quantifiable. It\'s oftentimes something that we can\'t fully understand until generations later. The decisions we make collectively sometimes seep into our consciousness or our subconscious mind. And we don\'t know why we have this weight on our shoulders. You could be living your life every day, and then one day, you just feel this overwhelming weight—and you don\'t understand where it comes from. I think that, collectively, we all felt that in this past year with the pandemic and all the social unrest.” **I NEED YOU** “It’s the same message as ‘CRY,’ but it’s the opposite. ‘I NEED YOU’ is Black social music mixed in with a pop song. It’s like if you took the music that Little Richard or James Brown, or my father and uncles, would play in the Chitlin’ Circuit in the 1940s. The type of dance like the jitterbug and the Lindy hop you would see in Harlem. You mix that with contemporary pop and hip-hop and that\'s what you would get with this song.\" **WHATCHUTALKINBOUT** “I had a vision of the way you come through this career as you become more and more successful—especially as a Black entertainer in America. It’s like going through a video game, where in every level you beat, you get to the next level and the boss is harder. I imagined myself jumping into the TV and running through different levels of a video game. You get to this point in the song where there\'s this 16-bit interlude, and I called my boy Pomo to help me craft this to have more pandemonium. I don\'t even believe in genres, but I will call it \'punk video game jazz rock.\'” **BOY HOOD** “It’s not just a song about growing up; the sound of it feels like what it felt like. We went to the studio with Jahaan Sweet. I remember him when he was 18 and he moved to New York from Florida. Now he’s producing for Drake, Kehlani, and all these people. He called me up and he was like, ‘Man, you’re the only one I know up here.’ We used to rap and make beats in the dorm room. I knew that he could help me to channel the feeling of what it’s like to live in the South.” **MOVEMENT 11’** “‘BOY HOOD,’ ‘MOVEMENT,’ and ‘ADULTHOOD’ is the spine of the record. Those three songs are a literal representation of my coming of age. When you get to ‘BOY HOOD,’ I\'m telling you literally what it was like. And then ‘MOVEMENT 11\'’ is my growth into an adult when I moved to New York at 17 to go to Juilliard.” **ADULTHOOD** “The transition from ‘MOVEMENT’ is this rich, multilayered classical-esque kind of thing where, all of a sudden, you just mature. The first half of the album has all of these different things going on in terms of just the universal and communal. And then on the second half, it goes into this place of just the internal and personal. That’s like how it is when you’re young and you got fire; you’re figuring out who you are and you’re looking at the world around you. And people give you advice, and you hear all these things about the past. You’re trying to reconcile it all. Then, all of a sudden, you\'re an adult. **MAVIS** “Mavis \[Staples\] is fantastic. I was talking to her during the pandemic, and she was dropping all of these gems on the phone. I wanted to really capture that and share it with people because I felt privileged to be able to be her friend and to collaborate with her over the years, to really learn from her. She said the words that are on the song and I said to her, ‘Can you say that one more time and let me record?’ It was one of those things that you can’t plan, because if you try to plan it, it won’t be the same.” **FREEDOM** “If you think about movies back in the day, you wouldn’t show a Black man with a white woman, or you wouldn\'t show a Black relationship, or you wouldn\'t show a woman in a certain role. That is our sexuality and how people are represented. That\'s what people like James Brown, or when we saw Elvis with the twist in the hips, did. They were unlocking something in people that they were trying to hold in. These people became beacons of freedom, and you look at the way they move and the way that they express who they are onstage. That becomes the way that you want to be in life.” **SHOW ME THE WAY** “This is a beautiful song to play when you’re cruising in the car with someone you care about. Or just cruising by yourself and doing your thing. It’s a homage to the many different culture creators who inspire me. I’ve been doing Zoom sessions with my friend Zadie Smith, who is a writer and sings on this record. We’ll do these virtual jam sessions and have real conversations about the music we want to listen to. So it’s really a homage to all the great Black musicians, and also great creators of all races, that have inspired us.” **SING** “‘Sing’ is the closing-credits song of this thing, because the album is like a movie. It\'s meant to be listened to like that. You\'ve had this journey and this experience. When you don\'t have words to say and you feel overwhelmed with emotion, just sing. You really have experienced the power of that through the course of that movie.” **UNTIL** “This is a moment of celebration, but it’s also undetermined. What are we going to do? Who are we? Until this or that happens, it’s all a question. That’s how I wanted to end the album, because if you go back to the beginning in a loop it’ll keep feeding you. It’s constructed to be cyclical.”

It\'s no surprise Joy Oladokun cites Tracy Chapman as an influence. Armed with a guitar and an achingly beautiful voice, she\'s cut from the same mold, capable of telling stories with clear-eyed appraisal and unflinching vulnerability. “To see a Black queer woman take the instrument of the standard Americana dude and make it her own and tell her story was maybe the most inspiring thing that could have happened to me,” Oladokun told Apple Music\'s Ebro Darden in Februrary 2021. Now, *in defense of my own happiness*, Oladokun\'s major-label debut, cements her place within a lineage of folk singer-songwriters documenting the complexities of the human experience. The album opens with “someone that i used to be,” a contemplative ode to growth and evolution that she approaches with a level of gentleness often reserved for others but rarely the self. “Having trouble giving grace to every one of my mistakes,” she admits in the opening verse, only to later find at least a bit of it: “Looking at the face inside the mirror with kinder eyes.” It\'s this sentiment that underscores the songs here. She\'s able to muster the strength to be fragile and imperfect, content to not know all the answers—to be a work in progress. Oscillating between facing inward and outward, Oladokun balances confession with observation, though never losing her sense of mercy for herself and others. Single “Bigger Man,” a wrenching duet with Maren Morris, illuminates the grit and patience required to subsist in the face of inequality. “I\'ve turned sticks and stones to an olive branch, I\'ve made a full house from a shitty hand,” she sings on the anthemic hook, “yet here I am, still gotta be bigger than the bigger man.” Oladokun is measured in her singing; she opts, instead, to let her lyrics do much of the emoting. But in moments when she does open up her voice—on songs like “if you got a problem” and “jordan”—the versatility of her artistry is made plain as the vocal traditions of gospel and soul come into dialogue with her Americana and folk. It culminates on the string ballad “breathe again,” as she prays for respite from the world and for the “faith to bend.” As much a monument to her experiences as a declaration of release from them, *in defense of my own happiness* musically reveals Oladokun as both the root and the branch, but it\'s the permission she grants herself to grow freely (and, by extension, her listeners as well) that is ultimately transcendent.

“I think that there is always reward in choosing to be the most vulnerable,” Kacey Musgraves tells Apple Music. “I have to remind myself that that\'s one of the strongest things you can do, is to be witness to being vulnerable. So I’m just trying to lean into that, and all the emotions that come with that. The whole point of it is human connection.” With 2018’s crossover breakthrough *Golden Hour*, Musgraves guided listeners through a Technicolor vision of falling in love, documenting the early stages of a romantic relationship and the blissed-out, dreamy feelings that often come with them. But the rose-colored glasses are off on *star-crossed*, which chronicles the eventual dissolution of that same relationship and the ensuing fallout. Presented as a tragedy in three acts, *star-crossed* moves through sadness, anger, and, eventually, hopeful redemption, with Musgraves and collaborators Daniel Tashian and Ian Fitchuk broadening the already spacey soundscape of *Golden Hour* into something truly deserving of the descriptors “lush” and “cinematic.” (To boot, the album releases in tandem with an accompanying film.) Below, Musgraves shares insight into several of *star-crossed*’s key tracks. **“star-crossed”** \"\[Guided psychedelic trips\] are incredible. At the beginning of this year, I was like, \'I want the chance to transform my trauma into something else, and I want to give myself that opportunity, even if it\'s painful.\' And man, it was completely life-changing in so many ways, but it also triggered this whole big bang of not only the album title, but the song \'star-crossed,\' the concept, me looking into the structure of tragedies themselves as an art form throughout time. It brought me closer to myself, the living thread that moves through all living things, to my creativity, the muse.\" **“if this was a movie..”** \"I remember being in the house, things had just completely fallen apart in the relationship. And I remember thinking, \'Man, if this was a movie, it wouldn\'t be like this at all.\' Like, I\'d hear his car, he\'d be running up the stairs and grabbing my face and say we\'re being stupid and we\'d just go back to normal. And it\'s just not like that. I think I can be an idealist, like an optimist in relationships, but I also love logic. I do well with someone who can also recognize common sense and logic, and doesn\'t get, like, lost in like these lofty emotions.\" **“camera roll”** \"I thought I was fine. I was on an upswing of confidence. I\'m feeling good about these life changes, where I\'m at; I made the right decision and we\'re moving forward. And then, in a moment of, I don\'t know, I guess boredom and weakness, I found myself just way back in the camera roll, just one night alone in my bedroom. Now I\'m back in 2018, now I\'m in 2017. And what\'s crazy is that we never take pictures of the bad times. There\'s no documentation of the fight that you had where, I don\'t know, you just pushed it a little too far.\" **“hookup scene”** \"So it was actually on Thanksgiving Day, and I had been let down by someone who was going to come visit me. And it was kind of my first few steps into exploring being a single 30-something-year-old person, after a marriage and after a huge point in my career, more notoriety. It was a really naked place. We live in this hookup culture; I\'m for it. I\'m for whatever makes you feel happy, as long as it\'s safe, doesn\'t hurt other people, fine. But I\'ve just never experienced that, the dating app culture and all that. It was a little shocking. And it made me just think that we all have flaws.\" **“gracias a la vida”** \"It was written by Violeta Parra, and I just think it\'s kind of astounding that she wrote that song. It was on her last release, and then she committed suicide. And this was basically, in a sense, her suicide note to the world, saying, \'Thank you, life. You have given me so much. You\'ve given me the beautiful and the terrible, and that has made up my song.\' Then you have Mercedes Sosa, who rerecords the song. Rereleases it. It finds new life. And then here I am. I\'m this random Texan girl. I\'m in Nashville. I\'m out in outer space. I\'m on a mushroom trip. And this song finds me in that state and inspires me to record it. It keeps reaching through time and living on, and I wanted to apply that sonically to the song, too.\"

“I feel like I\'ve been pretty much saying what I\'m thinking my whole life,” Lainey Wilson tells Apple Music about the credo that also serves as the title of her first full-length album. “My parents wanted to put a dang muzzle on me a time or two, really.” *Sayin\' What I\'m Thinkin\'* may be a debut, but the collection of songs sounds like the work of a far more seasoned artist. True to its title, the 12-song LP finds Wilson putting all her cards on the table as she writes clever, no-holds-barred country songs in the tradition of Miranda Lambert and Gretchen Wilson, with a little pop sass and Southern-rock grit thrown in for good measure. Opener \"Neon Diamonds\" is a fresh spin on looking for love, while \"Pipe\" encourages listeners to let their freak flags fly. Wilson knows her way around a party anthem, but she can get vulnerable, too, like on the unexpectedly heartfelt \"Keeping Bars in Business\" and the closing title track. Below, Wilson shares how each of the tracks on *Sayin\' What I\'m Thinkin\'* came to be. **Neon Diamonds** \"We were bound and determined that day to write a fun song for the girls, really. The first line of the song is \'My left hand ain\'t interested in nothing but a drink in it.\' It\'s just one of those songs that I feel like girls will put on when they\'re getting ready to get back out there and go have a good time when the bars are open.\" **Sunday Best** \"I had the song, and I wrote it with Brice Long and Shane Minor—those are literally two of the countriest dudes I know in Nashville. Actually, that day, we had written it as \'drinking in my Sunday dress.\' I loved the song, but it was still not connecting to me for some reason. Then I realized the reason is because I don\'t wear dresses. Last minute, I was like, \'Well, how about we change it to Sunday best?\' It\'s telling a story about how everybody deals with heartbreak different. Some people cry about it, some people drink about it, some people pray about it, or all of the above.\" **Things a Man Oughta Know** \"I wrote the song with Jason Nix and Jonathan Singleton. Jason had come into Big Machine that day with this idea called \'Things a Man Oughta Know.\' We sat there and we were drinking a pot of coffee that morning, and we were just talking about all the things that we thought a man ought to know. So this song really is, it\'s about having good character. It\'s about discernment, and it\'s about having the courage to do the right thing. Bottom line, it\'s about treating people the way that you want to be treated. I\'m not saying that you\'re not a man if you don\'t know how to change a tire, even though you probably should figure that out.\" **Small Town, Girl** \"I sat there for a few hours and I just aired out all my dirty laundry, and sometimes I think that\'s what you got to do to get a good song. Really, the song is just coming from a perspective of me confronting an old hussy. I hope she\'s reading this, too.\" **LA** \"When I moved \[to Nashville\] from Baskin, Louisiana, about 10 years ago, I was living here in my camper trailer. Everywhere I\'d go, I\'d open my mouth to speak and meet people, and literally the first thing that would come out of their mouth was, \'Where in the world are you from?\' I\'d tell them LA. I was talking about Louisiana, and they were thinking I was talking about Hollywood.\" **Dirty Looks** \"This song is really just telling a story about a blue-collar couple, and I know a thing or two about blue-collar people. I come from a farming community where people take extreme pride in working hard and making a good living for their family. This song really just draws a vivid picture of your everyday blue-collar couple going to grab a beer after the man\'s been busting his ass at work all day long. In my opinion, it don\'t get much sexier than that: dirty looks.\" **Pipe** \"If I could describe \'Pipe\' in three words, I would say it\'s my redneck rulebook. Words to live by. I walked into Luke Dick\'s studio. He has a garage set up behind his house. And I had never met him either. This was the first time we wrote. He was smoking a pipe just right there in the middle of his studio, just lighting that thing up. I was like, \'What is this man doing?\' but like, \'This is my kind of people. He don\'t give two shits what I think. It\'s kind of awesome.\' In my head, I was just sitting there looking at him like, \'He is unapologetically himself, and I love it.\' I was thinking, \'Well, put a little bit of that in your pipe and smoke it.\' I actually said it out loud to him. I said, \'Have you written that?\' He said, \'No, but that\'s what we\'re writing today.\'\" **Keeping Bars in Business** \"I was on tour with Morgan Wallen and HARDY, and we were out in Denver. My dog—her name was Puddin\', she was a little Boston terrier—she was staying with my parents back home in Louisiana because I was going to be on the road for a few months. Long story short, it\'s a real sad story, but they had to put her down when I was on the road. Losing her was, to be honest with you, probably harder than losing some family members, because they are family. Whether you\'re celebrating or whether your heart\'s breaking, at the end of the day, we\'re all keeping bars in business, with an exception of 2020.\" **Straight Up Sideways** \"Right when I thought that you could run out of ways of saying, \'Let\'s get drunk,\' or \'Let\'s turn it up,\' Jason Nix, Reid Isbell, and Dan Alley, literally, it just came out of them. I\'m going to quote the chorus right here: \'Tip them back until you can\'t walk, cut loose like a chainsaw, plastered like a drywall, hammered like an old bent nail, jacked up like a four-by, buzzed as a bug light, long gone as last night, loaded like a buckshot shell. There\'s more than one way to get straight-up sideways.\' There\'s no countrier way to say, \'Let\'s get a little drunk tonight.\'\" **WWDD** \"I wrote this with Michael Heeney and Casey Beathard, and those boys, they knew how much I love Dolly Parton and how much I look up to her. I feel like if more people were a little bit like Dolly, the world would be a much better place. She just has been a huge influence of mine in all parts of my life. When I\'m going through things in life and I don\'t really know how to handle them, I just ask myself, \'What would Dolly do?\'\" **Rolling Stone** \"\'Rolling Stone,\' when I really break it down, it really just tells a story about wanting something so bad in life and not letting anything or anybody stand in your way. I\'m from a town of 300 people. That was literally the only thing I knew. And I\'ve always wanted to be in Nashville. But I knew that that meant that I was going to have to let go of certain things and certain people in my life. I was dating my high school sweetheart, just the same good ol\' boy, for years. He didn\'t realize it at the time, but he was holding me back a little bit. So I bought a camper trailer, I drove it to Nashville, and I wrote this song. It just kind of tells that story.\" **Sayin’ What I’m Thinkin’** \"There comes a point where you finally realize you\'re going to be stuck in the same exact place for a very long time if you don\'t hurry up and do something about it. Breaking somebody\'s heart, it\'s terrible. Sometimes it hurts just as bad breaking somebody\'s as yours. It hurts just as bad getting yours hurt. But yeah, \'Sayin\' What I\'m Thinkin\'\' is just about letting those walls down and just cutting to it.\"

When Leon Bridges set out to make his third album, he wanted it to be different this time around. “We felt like the only way to unlock a unique sound was to create this immersive experience and find a place that was aesthetically inspiring,” he tells Apple Music. He landed on Gold-Diggers in East Hollywood, a three-in-one bar, hotel, and recording studio that allowed the Texas-bred singer to tap into his sound the way he hears it in his head, free from the expectations of others. “It definitely felt the most liberating to me,” he says of the process. “I was just able to be myself and let go of any inhibitions and create without any boundaries.” The songs born of those sessions—produced by Ricky Reed and Nate Mercereau—became *Gold-Diggers Sound* and some of Bridges’ most refined work. He rose to fame through his ’50s and ’60s soul stylings, but the R&B contained within this album situates its nostalgia in a more modern context, bridging ’80s and ’90s R&B with lush, jazz-inspired live instrumentation. His writing coupled with his voice has long been the centerpiece, but hearing both in this context is to experience them anew. “When you look at *Gold-Diggers Sound*, a lot of these songs were derived from improvisational jams,” Bridges says. “Back to the basics of musicians in a room and creating music from the ground up.” Here he walks through each song on the album. **“Born Again”** “‘Born Again’ is a song that transpired out of the pandemic. Pretty much everything on *Gold-Diggers Sound* was born within the Gold-Diggers space, but this is one that happened after the fact. Basically, Ricky Reed was doing this livestream series where he would produce a song live. He sent me an instrumental, and he wanted me to write something to it and send it in the next day, so I was stressing out like crazy because I just couldn\'t think of what to write about. I woke up that morning and the song came to me. I wanted to make it parallel to the concept of spiritual newness within a gospel context or within the Bible, but I take that concept and just talk about how I felt during the pandemic and how the pandemic was very healing for me. I felt like this song was a great opener for the album, and it totally sets the mood.” **“Motorbike”** “The instrumental of ‘Motorbike’ was already something that my friend Nate Mercereau was working on, and it resonated with me, and everyone else during the session just kind of slept on it. I went out to Puerto Rico for my 30th birthday, and I was able to spend that time with some of my best friends, and there was just so much camaraderie and love in that moment. I wanted to take that feeling of just living in the moment and escaping with someone you love, and so that\'s kind of what \'Motorbike\' is.” **“Steam”** “This is almost reminiscent of a Talking Heads kind of thing. \'Steam\' is one of the first songs that we worked on for this album. It\'s like a vibe of being at the party and the party gets cut short, and you want to prolong the hang, and so the best thing to do is just bring it on back to the hotel for the after-party.” **“Why Don’t You Touch Me”** “Shout-out to the undefeated, badass songwriter Kaydence. This was a tune that we worked on remotely during the pandemic and just felt like it was a cool angle to write about love diminishing in a relationship from a man\'s perspective. And just the crippling feeling of being physically close to someone but emotionally distant. It\'s an angle that you don\'t really hear often from a man\'s perspective, and so that\'s kind of the inspiration behind that.” **“Magnolias”** “I immediately was pigeonholed after my first album, and the more I continue to create, I want to be honest about the music that inspires me. I love the juxtaposition of that beautiful acoustic guitar with the more trap, modern R&B thing. My mother always used to encourage me to write a song about this magnolia tree that was in her backyard. And so I kind of took that and shaped the lyrics around it. In my head, as far as the chorus, it felt like this is how Sade would sing it in terms of that melody. That probably doesn\'t make sense, but it made sense in my head at the time.” **“Gold-Diggers (Junior’s Fanfare)”** “Shout-out to Ricky Reed for curating some really awesome horn players. I mean, you got Josh Johnson and Keyon Harrold, and with the inception of this album, I wanted to do a progressive sound but also keep it rooted with some organic elements. And so I felt it was important to have jazz interwoven throughout all of this album. It\'s a really awesome interlude, and it\'s something that you don\'t really hear a lot within the R&B space.” **“Details”** “‘Details’ is about learning to appreciate the small things. It\'s the little details that paint the big picture.” **“Sho Nuff”** “For ‘Sho Nuff,’ I wanted to take a page out of Houston culture. I love when you look at artists like UGK—I love the fact that those guys incorporated soul music within their songs. And so that guitar part is definitely reminiscent of that. I wanted to have this very minimalistic, soulful guitar and juxtapose that with a sexy vibe.” **“Sweeter”** “Throughout my career, I\'ve always been scrutinized for not making political music, and I\'ve kind of sat with that for a long time. I just didn\'t want to half-ass it. So this is a moment where Terrace Martin jumped off a session with these crazy chords. And for me, the chords or whatever\'s happening in the music always dictates what the song is about. As soon as he started playing that, I knew immediately this was the moment for \'Sweeter.\' We wrote this prior to the situation of George Floyd, but it\'s reflective of the perpetual narrative of Black men dying at the hands of police. We had been sitting on this song for a while, and I was planning to release a tune with my friend Lucky Daye and we kind of put that on the back burner. But after George Floyd, I was totally compelled to just put this out in the world in hopes it would serve as the beacon of light and hope.” **“Don’t Worry”** “‘Don\'t Worry’ is kind of a stream of thoughts to myself, reminiscing about a past lover and who she\'s currently with. Shout-out to my friend Ink, who is the singer-songwriter from Atlanta, and she embodies this country-hood type of vibe. Her energy is so infectious. I mean, she literally walks into the studio every day with cowboy boots and a cowboy hat and then just like brings this really awesome energy to the music—that\'s kind of how \'Don\'t Worry\' came about.” **“Blue Mesas”** “This whole album encapsulates the multifaceted aspects of life. It\'s not serious all the time, but sometimes there are those moments that capture the struggle, and that\'s what it was for me. \'Blue Mesas\' just talks about the moment when I transitioned into fame, and it was honestly hard for me. When you take an insecure person and put them in the limelight, some people can tend to fold or thrive. I\'m grateful that I had great people around me to help me get through those struggles. \'Blue Mesas\' is just like that feeling of the solitude and weight that comes with having a little notoriety and still feeling isolated—even in the midst of people that love you.”

When a veteran band decides to self-title an album, it’s often a way to reintroduce themselves. After years apart—and eight LPs behind them—My Morning Jacket felt like the moment had arrived. “I’ve always loved that phenomenon,” frontman Jim James tells Apple Music. “I was so excited that we even got to make another record that I was like, ‘This is the time for our self-titled.’ With all the insanity in the world right now, I wanted to do something as simple as we possibly could. Just, ‘Here we are. We’re back.’” Finished days before the pandemic took hold in early 2020, *My Morning Jacket* finds the Kentucky rock outfit luxuriating in one another’s company, feeling out familiar grooves (“Never in the Real World,” “Complex”) while still allowing for wild adventures (“In Color”) and loose experiments (“The Devil’s in the Details”). The hiatus, James says, was not due to any interpersonal drama, but rather the toll that “getting ground up in the machinery of touring” had taken on his health. Being together again lent him a sense of perspective and gratitude that courses through every song. “We weren’t really sure what was going to happen, but we took the time to have it be just the five of us,” he says, “which, I think, was really important for us to be able to get together and be vulnerable and be willing to make mistakes and not be precious about things and just get back to the core of the band. I feel so thankful—it’s almost like another lifetime you got to live. No matter what happens tomorrow, here’s another album. We did another one.” Here, James takes us inside a few songs from the collection. **“Regularly Scheduled Programming”** “It just felt like a natural, funny way to start it off because we had been interrupted and it was like, ‘Now we’re back to your regularly scheduled programming.’ Some songs just have that intro thing to them that feels like a first song in the way it builds. I call it a ramp song, where it starts with nothing and goes all the way up. I had been thinking about it so much before the pandemic, about how much screens have taken a place in our life. Then, obviously, the pandemic hit and we became even more addicted.” **“Love Love Love”** “It came to me on a walk, the rhythm of it. I wanted it to be powerful and propulsive at the same time, to have this weird combination of power and a super-mellow, super-beautiful vocal thing in the choruses. Mainly, it’s from working on myself and going to therapy and realizing how mean I can be to myself. If we walked into a room and heard somebody saying the terrible things we say to ourselves to a friend, we’d get super pissed. The song is really about trying to find a way to love yourself, so you can be more present for other people.” **“In Color”** “I thought it would maybe just be a minute-long acoustic song, really simple, like a nursery rhyme. Then I had a dream where I got the main riff and needed it to be a part of this thing. We started incorporating it and improvising, but something wasn’t right about it, and our drummer Patrick \[Hallahan\] said, ‘Why don’t we just start it acoustic and then go into all this other stuff that we’re doing?’ That’s what I love about the art of learning the recording studio: You find all the parts that really have heart and passion and real magic in them, and if you know how to edit correctly, you weave it into this thing that hopefully feels all of one body.” **“Never in the Real World”** “That was one of my favorite moments on this record, a really fun one in the studio: Through playing it, you just get into these places that you never thought you would get into. It’s about struggling to feel like I belong in this world, feeling so lost so much of the time that I could only find some kind of magic through drugs and alcohol, through altered states. The daytime was often so unmanageable for me because the only way I could find that magic was at night. It’s holding a sacred place for that as well because I think that’s still something that I enjoy. At the same time, just feeling wildly out of balance and trying to deal with that, like I never found magic in the real world, in the way I was supposed to live. The way society tells you to live, what people do, doesn’t make any sense to me.” **“The Devil’s in the Details”** “I got this old Sears drum machine for ten bucks, and it has this really nice pulsating pattern. I would play with it at night, sing over it, and then I put it in a demo box for things that I was going to work on later. I thought I would just do it by myself, because it didn’t really seem like a band song. While we were making the record, one night we went to this weird, really beautiful light show at the Arboretum in LA. The whole time I was walking, ‘The Devil’s in the Details’ kept coming into my head over and over. I was like, ‘Shit, we need to do this tomorrow.’ I brought the drum machine with me, and we just let it go. I showed them the chords, and we just all started improvising to the drum machine, getting hypnotized as we played along.” **“Lucky To Be Alive”** “I’ve had lots of accidents on tour. I’ve been hospitalized, had back surgery and heart trouble. Everybody knows what it feels like to be sick at least, but when you’re super sick, you can get down in this pit where your life starts to feel meaningless or starts to feel too hard, and you start to question, ‘Why am I even here? What am I even doing?’ I feel like after I’d been in several of those, once I got out, there’s a resonance to just feeling lucky to be alive, to having a normal day where I can walk. When simple things are taken away from you, you don’t really realize their value. When I came back and recovered, I was like, ‘Try to remember this feeling of just being grateful to be alive in any capacity, just what a gift it is.’” **“I Never Could Get Enough”** “It’s really just a sweet love song, about that feeling of loving somebody—not being able to get enough of that feeling, feeling so loved and so loving towards somebody that it’s all you can think about and it’s all you want to do. It’s that feeling, if we’re lucky enough to feel it, and it’s such a strange thing to try to manage, because everybody knows that everything changes, and everything ebbs and flows, and nothing lasts forever. It’s just about trying to enjoy that while you have it.”

If Olivia Rodrigo has a superpower, it’s that, at 18, she already understands that adolescence spares no one. The heartbreak, the humiliation, the vertiginous weight of every lonesome thought and outsized feeling—none of that really leaves us, and exploring it honestly almost always makes for good pop songs. “I grew up listening to country music,” the California-born singer-songwriter (also an experienced actor and current star of Disney+’s *High School Musical: The Musical: The Series*) tells Apple Music. “And I think it’s so impactful and emotional because of how specific it is, how it really paints pictures of scenarios. I feel like a song is so much more special when you can visualize and picture it, even smell and taste all of the stuff that the songwriter\'s going through.” To listen to Rodrigo’s debut full-length is to know—on a very deep and almost uncomfortably familiar level—exactly what she was going through when she wrote it at 17. Anchored by the now-ubiquitous breakup ballad ‘drivers license’—an often harrowing, closely studied lead single that already felt like a lock for song-of-the-year honors the second it arrived in January 2021—*SOUR* combines the personal and universal to often devastating effect, folding diary-like candor and autobiographical detail into performances that recall the millennial pop of Taylor Swift (“favorite crime”) just as readily as the ’90s alt-rock of Elastica (“brutal”) and Alanis Morissette (“good 4 u”). It has the sound and feel of an instant classic, a *Jagged Little Pill* for Gen Z. “All the feelings that I was feeling were so intense,” Rodrigo says. “I called the record *SOUR* because it was this really sour period of my life—I remember being so sad, and so insecure, and so angry. I felt all those things, and they\'re still very real, but I\'m definitely not going through that as acutely as I used to. It’s nice to go back and see what I was feeling, and be like, ‘It all turned out all right. You\'re okay now.’” A little older and a lot wiser, Rodrigo shares the wisdom she learned channeling all of that into one of the most memorable debut albums in ages. **Let Your Mind Wander** “I took an AP psychology class in high school my junior year, and they said that you\'re the most creative when you\'re doing some type of menial task, because half of your brain is occupied with something and the other half is just left to roam. I find that I come up with really good ideas when I\'m driving for that same reason. I actually wrote the first verse and some of the chorus of **‘enough for you’** going on a walk around my neighborhood; I got the idea for **‘good 4 u’** in the shower. I think taking time to be out of the studio and to live your life is as productive—if not more—than just sitting in a room with your guitar trying to write songs. While making *SOUR*, there was maybe three weeks where I spent like six, seven days a week of 13 hours in the studio. I actually remember feeling so creatively dry, and the songs I was making weren\'t very good. I think that\'s a true testament to how productive rest can be. There\'s only so much you can write about when you\'re in the studio all day, just listening to your own stuff.” **Trust Your Instincts** “Before I met my collaborator, producer—and cowriter in many instances—Dan Nigro, I would just write songs in my bedroom, completely by myself. So it was a little bit of a learning curve, figuring out how to collaborate with other people and stick up for your ideas and be open to other people\'s. Sometimes it takes you a little while to gain the confidence to really remember that your gut feelings are super valid and what makes you a special musician. I struggled for a while with writing upbeat songs just because I thought in my head that I should write about happiness or love if I wanted to write a song that people could dance to. And **‘brutal’** is actually one of my favorite songs on *SOUR*, but it almost didn\'t make it on the record. Everyone was like, ‘You make it the first \[track\], people might turn it off as soon as they hear it.’ I think it\'s a great introduction to the world of *SOUR*.” **It Doesn’t Have to Be Perfect** “I wrote this album when I was 17. There\'s sort of this feeling that goes along with putting out a record when you\'re that age, like, ‘Oh my god, this is not the best work that I\'ll ever be able to do. I could do better.’ So it was really important for me to learn that this album is a slice of my life and it doesn\'t have to be the best work that I\'ll ever do. Maybe my next record will be better, and maybe I\'ll grow. It\'s nice, I think, for listeners to go on that journey with songwriters and watch them refine their songwriting. It doesn\'t have to be perfect now—it’s the best that I can do when I\'m 17 years old, and that\'s enough and that\'s cool in its own right.” **Love What You Do** “I learned that I liked making songs a lot more than I like putting out songs, and that love of songwriting stayed the same for me throughout. I learned how to nurture it, instead of the, like, ‘Oh, I want to get a Top 40 hit!’-type thing. Honestly, when ‘drivers license’ came out, I was sort of worried that it was going to be the opposite and I was going to write all of my songs from the perspective of wanting it to chart. But I really just love writing songs, and I think that\'s a really cool position to be in.” **Find Your People** “I feel like the purpose of ‘yes’ people in your life is to make you feel secure. But whenever I\'m around people who think that everything I do is incredible, I feel so insecure for some reason; I think that everything is bad and they\'re just lying to me the whole time. So it\'s really awesome to have somebody who I really trust with me in the studio. That\'s Dan. He’ll tell me, ‘This is an amazing song. Let\'s do it.’ But I\'ll also play him a song that I really like and he’ll say, ‘You know what, I don\'t think this is your best song. I think you can write a better one.’ There\'s something so empowering and something so cool about that, about surrounding yourself with people who care enough about you to tell you when you can do better. Being a songwriter is sort of strange in that I feel like I\'ve written songs and said things, told people secrets through my songs that I don\'t even tell some people that I hang out with all the time. It\'s a sort of really super mega vulnerable thing to do. But then again, it\'s the people around me who really love me and care for me who gave me the confidence to sort of do that and show who I really am.” **You Really Never Know** “To me, ‘drivers license’ was never one of those songs that I would think: ‘It\'s a hit song.’ It\'s just a little slice of my heart, this really sad song. It was really cool for me to see evidence of how authenticity and vulnerability really connect with people. And everyone always says that, but you really never know. So many grown men will come up to me and be like, ‘Yo, I\'m happily married with three kids, but that song brought me back to my high school breakup.’ Which is so cool, to be able to affect not only people who are going through the same thing as you, but to bring them back to a time where they were going through the same thing as you are. That\'s just surreal, a songwriter\'s dream.”

The guitar legend throws a star-studded, cross-genre party.

Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak were already hard at work on what would become *An Evening With Silk Sonic* when the pandemic shut down live music in early 2020, but they weren’t going to let that stop them from delivering a concert experience to their fans. “All of a sudden, my shows get canceled, Andy\'s shows get canceled,” Mars told Ebro Darden during their R&B Now interview. “This fear of ‘we’ll never be able to play live again’ comes into play. And to take that away from guys like us, that\'s all we know. So we\'re thinking, all right, let\'s put an album together that sounds like a show.” It began with the project’s lead single, “Leave the Door Open,” a syrupy-sweet piece of retro soul that Mars considers something of a backbone for the project. After its completion, he and .Paak began building out the nine songs of *An Evening With Silk Sonic*, soliciting help, in the few instances where they needed it, from friends like Bootsy Collins, Thundercat, and even Kenneth “Babyface” Edmonds. Their access to HOF-worthy firepower notwithstanding, the pair always understood that their own combined musicality was the real draw. “We just wanted it to feel special,” Mars says. “Instead of trying to get too cute with the concept, it\'s like, what\'s more special than Anderson .Paak behind a drum set singing a song and me having his back when it\'s my turn, you know? And the band moving in the same direction? It was just like a musician\'s dream.” Below, the pair talk through some of the tracks that make *An Evening With Silk Sonic* an experience fans won’t soon forget. **“Leave the Door Open”** Bruno Mars: “Me and Andy come from the school of performing and playing live instruments. We wrote ‘Leave the Door Open’ and it was just one of those songs like, dang, I can’t believe we a part of this, and we don\'t know what it\'s gonna do, we don\'t care that it\'s a ballad or a whatever you wanna call it—to us, this just feels right and it\'s important. So no matter what, if it hit No. 1 or it didn\'t, me and Andy both know that that was the best we could do. And we were cool with that.” **“Fly as Me”** Anderson .Paak: “‘Fly as Me’ is a joint hook \[Mars\] had for a minute. He was trying to figure out some verses for it, trying to figure out the groove, and we spent some time on that.” Mars: “Andy goes behind the drum set one day and says, ‘The groove gotta be like this,’ and starts playing his groove. D’Mile is on the bass, I\'m on the guitar. After all the grooves we tried, I don\'t know what it is, there\'s something about someone in the studio, someone that you trust, saying, \'It\'s gotta be like this.’ And the groove you hear him playing, which is not an easy groove to play, was what he showed me and D. And we just followed suit.” **“After Last Night” (with Thundercat & Bootsy Collins)** Mars: “That one got a lot of Bootsy on it. And my boy Thundercat came in and blessed us. It’s just one of them songs—everything was built to be played live, so that song is one of those we can keep going for 10 minutes.” **“Smokin Out the Window”** Mars: “‘Smokin Out the Window’ was an idea we started four or five years ago on tour. It didn\'t sound nothing like how it does now, but we just had the idea. On \[.Paak’s\] birthday, I called him over. He was hysterical that night. After every take he was like, \'I\'m the king of R&B! I’m the best! Tell me I’m not the hottest in the game!\' We were going back and forth with the lines and who can make who laugh, and we end up finishing that song and he was like, \'I’m out, what we doing tomorrow?\'” **“Put On a Smile”** Mars: “I had a song that I played for Andy and I said, ‘What do you think about this?’ and he said, ‘It sucks.’ I start singing it again and he gets behind the drums and that\'s when the magic happens. So we come up with this hook and these chords and that\'s when we start cooking, when everything starts moving in the studio. The song\'s starting to sound real good now. I don’t wanna mess it up, so I call Babyface. I only call Face to know if I got something good, you know, ’cause he’ll tell me too, \'This is wack.\' For all of us to finish that record together, that was one of my favorite experiences on this album.” **“Skate”** Mars: “It\'s hard to be mad on some rollerskates. So really, that\'s kinda the essence of this album: If me and Andy were to host a party, what would that feel like? Summertime. Outside. Set up the congas and the drums and amplifiers, and what would that sound like? And this is what our best effort was: \'Skate.\'”

“This record is very much an homage to the loved ones that I\'ve lost,” The Pretty Reckless vocalist/guitarist Taylor Momsen tells Apple Music about their fourth studio LP. “But it\'s also very much a reflection of my life written from a very personal and intimate perspective of where I was at and what I was going through.” In May 2017, the New York City four-piece was left stunned by the untimely death of Soundgarden frontman Chris Cornell while supporting the grunge pioneers on tour in Detroit, Michigan. Shaken by this tragic incident, Momsen, who considered Cornell a mentor and a friend, came to the conclusion that she was not in a good place and needed to take a step back and grieve privately. As she was coming to terms with what had happened, Momsen suffered another blow when she learned that the band’s longtime producer Kato Khandwala had died tragically in a motorcycle accident. At her wit’s end, Momsen fell into a spiral of depression and substance abuse. Momsen’s love of music is what started to pull her out of that dark place—starting with The Beatles, the first band she ever heard, and coming back around to Soundgarden when it brought her joy to listen to them again. She picked up her guitar and started to play. “I think that was the start of where I started to see a spark come back into my eye, a little bit of light,” Momsen says. “Clichéd as it may sound, music very literally saved my life. I had been repressing so much of myself, and everything that I was going through, that by the time I even attempted to creep that door open, the floodgates just poured out in this uncontrollable way.” Read on as Momsen takes us inside some of the album’s key tracks. **Death by Rock and Roll** “I think that it was very important for me that ‘Death by Rock and Roll’ is the opening song on the record. The first thing you hear when you push play is actually a recording of Kato\'s footsteps walking down the hallway of the House of Loud, the studio where we recorded our first album *Light Me Up*. I don\'t want to compliment myself, but it does sound like a rock ’n’ roll anthem and this battle about your life.” **Only Love Can Save Me Now (feat. Matt Cameron & Kim Thayil)** “When I finished it and we had done a rough sketch of it in the studio, as it was coming together, it had this Soundgarden-esque overtone to it. I just thought that Matt and Kim, being the incredible and unique musicians that they are, would add such a dimension to it that we weren\'t able to create ourselves. We flew to Seattle and recorded it at London Bridge Studios, which is where Soundgarden recorded *Louder Than Love* and Pearl Jam recorded *Ten* back in the day. I don\'t want to speak for them, but for me, it was this very, very beautiful full-circle moment of creating something new after all the hell.” **25** “I wrote it before turning 25, and we recorded it shortly after my birthday. I think that I was at a very low point in my life. But I was also at a very reflective point, as probably a lot of people are around a birthday. It’s a very autobiographical one in a lot of ways. When I finished writing it, I took a step back from it for a second. There was no one else in the room. I just went, ‘I think I might\'ve gotten better. I think this might be really good.’ Certainly it was a turning point for myself as a songwriter and also for myself as a person. It was me saying to myself, \'Taylor, you need to get your shit together.\' It\'s the first indication on the record that there is light at the end of this very dark tunnel.”

Ty Segall’s turn toward synths isn’t as dramatic a renovation as it sounds. If anything, the revelation of *Harmonizer* is that his writing is distinctive enough that you could recognize him in just about any costume: hooky, direct, and psychedelic, but with just enough of a hint of horror-movie eeriness to keep you unsettled. And as different as garage rock might seem from the minimal gleam of the music here (the loose and organic versus the mechanical and impassive), the connection lies in science-fictive questions of what makes us human in the first place: Our freedoms? Our routines? Our wildest impulses, or our ability to control them? The historical touchpoints remain familiar: T. Rex (“Pictures”), early King Crimson (“Whisper,” “Erased”), the queasy soundtracks of Italian giallo movies (“Ride”), mixed with both inspiration and historical precision. And if you miss the shredding, just remember that the hum of the fridge at night is plenty psychedelic if you listen deeply enough.

His first album in forever (two years)! Ty glides smoothly into a wild area with a synthtasm of production redesign, dialing up a wealth of new guitar and keyboard settings. A seething statement of emotional austerity, Harmonizer enraptures the ear, while enabling Ty to cut through dense undergrowth, making groove moves for the body, mind and soul.

There’s a handful of eyebrow-raising verses across Tyler, The Creator’s *CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST*—particularly those from 42 Dugg, Lil Uzi Vert, YoungBoy Never Broke Again, Pharrell, and Lil Wayne—but none of the aforementioned are as surprising as the ones Tyler delivers himself. The Los Angeles-hailing MC, and onetime nucleus of the culture-shifting Odd Future collective, made a name for himself as a preternaturally talented MC whose impeccable taste in streetwear and calls to “kill people, burn shit, fuck school” perfectly encapsulated the angst of his generation. But across *CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST*, the man once known as Wolf Haley is just a guy who likes to rock ice and collect stamps on his passport, who might whisper into your significant other’s ear while you’re in the restroom. In other words, a prototypical rapper. But in this case, an exceptionally great one. Tyler superfans will remember that the MC was notoriously peeved at his categoric inclusion—and eventual victory—in the 2020 Grammys’ Best Rap Album category for his pop-oriented *IGOR*. The focus here is very clearly hip-hop from the outset. Tyler made an aesthetic choice to frame *CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST* with interjections of shit-talking from DJ Drama, founder of one of 2000s rap’s most storied institutions, the Gangsta Grillz mixtape franchise. The vibes across the album are a disparate combination of sounds Tyler enjoys (and can make)—boom-bap revival (“CORSO,” “LUMBERJACK”), ’90s R&B (“WUSYANAME”), gentle soul samples as a backdrop for vivid lyricism in the Griselda mold (“SIR BAUDELAIRE,” “HOT WIND BLOWS”), and lovers rock (“I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE”). And then there’s “RUNITUP,” which features a crunk-style background chant, and “LEMONHEAD,” which has the energy of *Trap or Die*-era Jeezy. “WILSHIRE” is potentially best described as an epic poem. Giving the Grammy the benefit of the doubt, maybe they wanted to reward all the great rapping he’d done until that point. *CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST*, though, is a chance to see if they can recognize rap greatness once it has kicked their door in.

Get Well Soon, is our offering of love, hope, and healing for Dunesfolk of the past, present, and future.

After Yola signed with Dan Auerbach’s Easy Eye recordings and released *Walk Through Fire*, her genre-melding full-length debut that earned her four Grammy nominations (including a 2020 nod for Best New Artist), she found herself facing a stubborn foe: writer’s block. Her increasingly demanding career yielded accolades and an ever-growing fanbase that included artists like The Highwomen and director Baz Luhrmann, but she found herself struggling to write at the height of it. “I had ideas right the way through, from 2013, when I was learning to play guitar, through to when I first started doing shows in late 2015,” she tells Apple Music. “But I hadn\'t had a single idea from 2019 into the pandemic—just nothing. That level of being busy just completely poached my ability to write. I started deconstructing my process of how my brain likes to function when I\'m creating.” If she started humming a tune while straightening up the house, she wouldn\'t immediately try to interrogate it. She sought out stillness and space, a contrast to what she calls the “excessively conscious” state she often found herself in. “When that part of my brain was off, ideas would appear almost instantly,” she says. “I clearly had inspiration, but there were situations that stopped the ideas coming to the fore, stopped me being able to access them.” Eventually, Yola wrote her way out of writer’s block and into *Stand for Myself*, an album that meets the high standard she set with *Walk Through Fire* while drawing in new sounds (namely disco, which drives the groove of “Dancing Away in Tears”) and doubling down on vintage vibes (notably the ’70s soul of “Starlight”) and declarations of self-empowerment. New collaborators came along for the soulful journey, too: Joy Oladokun, Ruby Amanfu, and Natalie Hemby co-wrote songs for the album (as did Auerbach, who produced the album, along with *Walk Through Fire*), and Brandi Carlile lends her voice to “Be My Friend,” an all-too-timely celebration of allyship. Below, Yola talks through a few of the songs on the album and how they helped get her back on track. **“Barely Alive”** “The first song on the record, ‘Barely Alive,’ is co-written by Joy Oladokun. We were talking about what it\'s like to be Africans and isolated, and playing guitar, and singing songs, and being into a very broad spectrum of music—and growing up having to explain our existence, and ourselves. You are so often called on to minimize yourself. It can be that your life experience is uncomfortable to somebody and it\'s triggering their white fragility, so they\'re encouraging you to speak less on it, or better still, not at all, and to suffer in silence. If you can\'t speak on your life, then you can\'t address what\'s right and wrong with it. That\'s where the album jumps off from: It\'s a very concise narrative on my journey, from that place of being a doormat to having some agency over my own life.” **“Break the Bough”** “‘Break the Bough’ dates back to 2013, and was started on the evening of my mother\'s funeral. It doesn\'t sound like a song that was written on the horns of a funeral; it\'s a real party song. In that moment I realized that none of us are getting out of this thing called life alive, and so whatever we think we\'re doing with our lives, we better do a better job of it—just manifest the things that you want to manifest, and be the you that you most want to be. I\'d been in a writing block up until that point, and that sparked me to decide to learn to play guitar and inexorably start writing songs again—and that led me here.” **“Be My Friend”** “‘Be My Friend’ was one of the songs to arrive in my mind almost complete. That was a real moment, when I was able to come up with something that felt really real, really true, really about the time I was in, but also about my journey. It was as much about allyship \[as\] it was the idea of what I needed to get to this point in the first place. I thought it was important to call Brandi to sing with me: She\'d had the same conversation with me pertaining to queerness, and the pursuit of not being a token, and to manifest your most true self in your art so you don\'t feel like you\'re apologizing for yourself or hiding yourself in your art.” **“Stand for Myself”** “The song ‘Stand for Myself’ is the ultimate conclusion of a concept. It starts with referencing the \'Barely Alive\' version of myself: \'I understand why you\'re essentially burying your head in the sand: You want to feel nothing.\' But also, it can speak on people that are experiencing white fragility. It\'s like, I get it, it makes you feel uncomfortable. You don\'t want to have to feel empathy for people that aren\'t like you, because it feels like work. But then it\'s saying, \'I was like that, I was an absolute parrot, and I didn\'t have any sets of perspective of what I might stand to gain from not being such an anxious twonk.\' That\'s really where we get to: But I did do it, because I was left without choice. Now I feel like I\'m actually alive, and it\'s really great. You can have this, too, if you\'re actually willing to do the work—go and take the implicit test, find out what your biases are, work on them, feel things for other people that aren\'t clones of you—and that\'s really everything. When someone goes, \'Hey, this album should be called *Don\'t Mess With Yola!*,\' I\'m like, you\'ve missed the point of this record. It\'s not a *don\'t mess with*. It\'s not *I\'m a strong Black woman*. It\'s the deserving of softness and a measure of kindness and of support and friendship and love. And that\'s really all encapsulated in \'Stand for Myself.\'”