Upset's Best Albums of 2018

Having vaulted to new heights with 2015’s *Blurryface*, followed by nearly two solid years of touring, twenty one pilots were in need of a break. Recorded primarily in the band’s Columbus, Ohio, studio during a yearlong public silence, their fifth album *Trench* picks up where the band left off in both sound and subject, exploring rugged emotional terrain in a style by turns cathartic and cryptic. If *Blurryface* was, as Tyler Joseph told Beats 1 host Zane Lowe, a “mirror” for his insecurities, *Trench* is a place where he could go to regain control—or, as he puts it on the tender, album-closing “Leave the City”: “But this year/though I’m far from home/In trench I’m not alone.” What continues to resonate is Joseph’s ability to turn his personal pain into shared experience, his inner dialogue into public art. “Surrounded and up against a wall,” he sings on the disco-ish “My Blood,” “I’ll shred ’em all and go with you.” Whoever he might be talking to (his fans, his wife, his friends), you get the sense the words double as a promise to himself. “I never would have turned to music if I didn’t feel like I need to change or cope with something,” he told Beats 1. “I was perfectly fine before music, and then something happened where I just felt a buildup of some sort. I didn’t know how to decompress that and to have an outlet for it—I was forced to learn how to play the piano.”

Despite our best efforts, there are some things we just can’t outrun. Everything catches up to us in the end, no matter what we do to hide from it. It’s a reality that Petal’s Kiley Lotz examines on Magic Gone, the band’s latest full-length album on Run For Cover. Recorded over the course of a month at Studio 4 in Conshohocken, PA, Magic Gone is a bitingly honest look at adulthood, accountability, responsibility, and mental health and the difficulties that go along with each of them. “I was a closeted queer person struggling with chronic mental health disorders,” says Lotz of the three year period that inspired the album. “There comes a moment where all the paranoia, anxiety and pain become too much and you realize the structure you built to survive is no longer is going to serve you. I had to make some very big life changes to make sure I didn’t die. It was not easy taking that level control over my life after spending many years worrying about upsetting others and being the best and most successful person I could be.” That’s not to say that the last few years have only been negative for Lotz - there were a lot of great moments, too. She moved from New York City to Philadelphia, changed her focus from acting and theatre to music, toured with Julien Baker, Slingshot Dakota, and Kevin Devine, and chose to come out and live openly as queer, which she looks back on as one of the most beneficial decisions she’s ever made. “Coming out was the beginning of a long and continuing process of self actualization, of taking a hard look at myself and the problems I had and how I could fix them,” says Lotz. Still, the highs of her rapidly changing life weren’t able to outweigh the lows, and in early 2017, Lotz found herself hitting a breaking point. Her mental health was rapidly declining, and after a relapse of suicidality, she made the difficult decision to prioritize her health above all else and move back to her hometown to enter intensive treatment for her major depressive and panic disorders. It was that duality - the valley between the positives and negatives of life that she’d experienced - that inspired Magic Gone and its two halves. Side A, titled Tightrope Walker, features songs Lotz wrote before entering treatment, while Side B, Miracle Clinger, is comprised of songs she wrote in recovery. “I think those two parts of me are what kept me alive,” Lotz explains. “I became so skilled at the act of getting through every day that I trusted that ability, but knew if I slipped I could face a bad end. Still, I couldn’t help but have faith in myself and people and God and that things could be better, even though I felt so lost and hopeless.” The culmination of it all is an album that showcases Lotz’ prowess as both a vocalist and a songwriter, drawing equal influence from ‘70s powerhouses like Queen and Nina Simone as it does modern vocalists like Solange, Margaret Glaspy and Mitski. Producer Will Yip distills Lotz down to her purest form, lending an unprecedented rawness to her sound. Themes of duality even make their way into the album’s instrumentation, specifically in Lotz’ decision to include church organ on the album; playing organ was a huge part of her life growing up, and to this day the sound of it inspires both comfort and fear in her. Track by track, the singer transforms her vulnerability from a curse into a tool with which to examine both where she went wrong and where she went right in her struggle for survival. Lotz offers a lesson for each of us on having the courage to face our demons and make the best choices for ourselves. “Really feeling what it’s like to be completely heart broken, instead of just pushing it down so deeply, allowed me to see the true strength in vulnerability. That acknowledging pain, struggle, loss and heart break, is strong. That being out is strong. That being ill takes strength all it’s own.”

Since their formation in 2001, mewithoutYou have become a standard-bearer for their genre (whatever genre that may be). Across six full-length albums and a handful of EPs, the Philadelphia band—alternately labeled experimental punk, post-hardcore, indie rock, etc.—have long put a premium on progression, never anchoring themselves to a single sound and instead gracefully wandering across stylistic lines. It’s that same spirit that informed the band’s upcoming seventh album [Untitled], their second for Run For Cover Records, as well as its accompanying EP [untitled]. “It’s a perennial question within the band of how far to push out into the unknown,” says vocalist Aaron Weiss. “Of course it's nice to do something new, but to what extent, and to what end?” For [Untitled] novelty came naturally. Weiss had become a husband and father and relocated to Idaho, where a makeshift home studio rig and MIDI keyboard facilitated lo-fi, synthetic experimentation. Meanwhile in Philadelphia, guitarists Mike Weiss (Aaron’s brother) and Brandon Beaver stockpiled ideas ahead of the recording session with producer Will Yip. And the addition of Dominic Angelella—who took up bass duties while Greg Jehanian was on sabbatical (he’s since returned to the band)—gave drummer Rickie Mazzotta the chance to spread out and explore a new sonic palette. The result is two works of tragicomic beauty, the likes of which only mewithoutYou could create. What begat this wealth of material was not just the band’s distance, which allowed its members to write freely, but personal and social matters that forced Weiss to explore himself in a more granular way. “I thought I was going to write a record about the 'rising political tide,' but that didn’t happen,” he says. Relational turmoil, including certain tensions within the band, were a more immediate catalyst for creativity, as outside forces pushed Weiss to look inward and focus on the things he could change about himself. “Whenever I pointed a finger 'out there,' I tried to pull it back and ask, ‘What does this say about me that I'm having this reaction?’” There was no shortage of material in this self-examination, as Weiss hints at a prolonged, intensely bizarre psychological journey that accompanied the songwriting. When pressed for more detail, he's uncharacteristically guarded. "I'm usually pretty transparent about what inspired a given project, but that's not gonna work this time." The lyrics on [Untitled] are still deeply poetic, and the themes are familiar—e.g., mysticism, metamorphosis, mental illness—but, moreso than recent mewithoutYou albums, are built on Weiss’ lived experiences. He describes his attempts to "go into greater depths of whatever I am and face what's there—however petty, incoherent or humiliating—and emerge with some reason for hope, a reason for joy regardless. To have that be the takeaway, to stare down my deepest misery and sickness and then find a positive resolution, that’s at least part of what I'm going for.” It’s noticeable in tracks like “Julia,” “Flee, Thou Matadors!," and "Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore," as mewithoutYou transmute their most primal urges and "non-drug-induced hallucinations" into expansive, all-consuming compositions that feel outright celebratory by the end. While Weiss may appear to be at the center of the journey on [Untitled] and [untitled], his bandmates trace similar paths forward. Beaver and Mike Weiss craft rich, intricate guitar melodies and psychedelic panoramas that quake deep inside the listener's chest, while songs like “Wendy & Betsy," "Cities of the Plain," and “Winter Solstice” find the band at its most chaotic, meditative, and pop-oriented, respectively. This expansiveness can likewise be felt in the rhythm section, as Angelella and Mazzotta guide the albums through a dizzying array of landscapes, anchoring the explosive moments and giving the ambient sections a propulsive heft. With [Untitled] and [untitled], mewithoutYou have created a body of work that is heartbreaking, surreal, and downright revelatory, but still mighty fun. Its scope can be detected in the music as well as Weiss’ words, as he solemnly plumbs the depths of his soul without losing a certain lighthearted optimism. “I guess I need to hit rock bottom and experience some kind of quasi-trauma. It tends to sharpen my senses and strip away what's superfluous and leave me with a more bare bones, crystalline understanding of where I’m at,” he explains. "It also helps my otherwise impoverished sense of humor. After all, it's a pretty silly thing we're doing." Their finest work to date, [Untitled] and [untitled] secure the band's position as a pacesetter in the world of thoughtful, aggressive music.

On their fifth album—their first since frontman Austin Carlile’s departure—California’s Of Mice & Men push full steam ahead. Stepping into Carlile\'s shoes is bassist Aaron Pauley, on both clean *and* screamed vocals. *Defy*’s grunge-influenced melodies and (occasionally) dipping tempos breathe diversity and digestibility into the formidable metalcore mix. While the titular track and “Unbreakable” sing of strength and perseverance, “On the Inside” and “Warzone” reveal painful truths. Sandwiched in the middle comes an audacious album highlight: a roaring rendition of Pink Floyd’s classic “Money.” With *Defy*, Of Mice & Men not only prevail—they raise the bar.

How To Socialise & Make Friends anchors on the cycles of life, loss, and growth through resilience, and those moments of finding and being yourself. The title track and “Animal and Real” celebrate the joys of being an independent unit and knowing who you are without any influencing external factors, while “Anna” and “Sagan-Indiana” speak to the love you feel towards friends – the women who shape you and work together to find strength in numbers. “The Face of God” is a raw account of sexual assault and the feelings of isolation that follow, and album closer “I’ve Got You” showcases vocalist and guitarist Georgia Maq solo, singing of her late father’s battle with cancer and their close friendship that prevails, even in death. Throughout the nine songs on How To Socialise & Make Friends, it becomes clear that if their 2016 self-titled debut was the flame, this is Camp Cope rising from the ashes, stronger and more focused than ever. Camp Cope – Maq (vocals/guitar), Kelly-Dawn Hellmrich (bass) and Sarah Thompson (drums) – have become a force in music since forming in 2015. Their Australian Music Prize-shortlisted debut saw critical acclaim from all corners, including Pitchfork (8.0, “effusive, empathic, and emphatic”), Noisey (‘Best Albums of 2016’), Brooklyn Vegan (“one of the most promising debuts from a young new band this year”), and DIY (“it’s rare to find a band with the sheer songwriting ability and integrity of Camp Cope”), among others. They sold out two shows at Sydney Opera House as part of Vivid LIVE 2017, headlined Melbourne’s Weekender Fest 2017, and toured the US for the first time earlier this year, playing through 13 states with Worriers.

Gouge Away are a hardcore punk band from Fort Lauderdale, Florida. “Burnt Sugar” is their latest album, mixed and mastered by Jack Shirley (Deafheaven, Oathbreaker) and produced by Jeremy Bolm of Touche Amore. With “Burnt Sugar” Gouge Away dive into personal and social political subject matter without getting the bends on their way back to surface. Carrying an emotional vulnerability and honesty that few bands own in today’s music world.

Recorded with Grammy Award-winning producer/engineer Carlos De La Garza (Paramore, Jimmy Eat World), Chrome Neon Jesus combines dreamy vocals with distorted guitars and massive dynamics. Throughout the album, bassist/vocalist Kamtin Mohager, guitarist/vocalist Marshall Gallagher, and drummer Anthony Salazar explore emotional terrain that Gallagher describes as “realiz[ing] the world is bigger, brighter and more terrifying then you ever imagined.”

Lindsey Jordan’s voice rises and falls with electricity throughout Lush, her debut album as Snail Mail, spinning with bold excitement and new beginnings at every turn. Throughout Lush, Jordan’s clear and powerful voice, acute sense of pacing, and razor-sharp writing cut through the chaos and messiness of growing up: the passing trends, the awkward house parties, the sick-to-your-stomach crushes and the heart wrenching breakups. Jordan’s most masterful skill is in crafting tension, working with muted melodrama that builds and never quite breaks, stretching out over moody rockers and soft-burning hooks, making for visceral slow-releases that stick under the skin. Lush feels at times like an emotional rollercoaster, only fitting for Jordan’s explosive, dynamic personality. Growing up in Baltimore suburb Ellicot City, Jordan began her classical guitar training at age five, and a decade later wrote her first audacious songs as Snail Mail. Around that time, Jordan started frequenting local shows in Baltimore, where she formed close friendships within the local scene, the impetus for her to form a band. By the time she was sixteen, she had already released her debut EP, Habit, on local punk label Sister Polygon Records. In the time that’s elapsed since Habit, Jordan has graduated high school, toured the country, opened for the likes of Girlpool and Waxahatchee as well as selling out her own headline shows, and participated in a round-table discussion for the New York Timesabout women in punk -- giving her time to reflect and refine her songwriting process by using tempered pacings and alternate tunings to create a jawdropping debut both thoughtful and cathartic. Recorded with producer Jake Aron and engineer Johnny Schenke, with contributions from touring bandmates drummer Ray Brown and bassist Alex Bass as well, Lush sounds cinematic, yet still perfectly homemade.

Sydney band Hellions’ fourth LP is ostensibly a concept album about life\'s peaks and troughs. “Odyssey” tackles the egocentricity of modern culture, while the title track delivers a moving message of hope, despite its touching on tragedies such as the 2016 Orlando nightclub shooting. Two elaborate, vaudeville-styled interludes—“(Theatre Of)” and “(Blueberry)”—lend an air of theatricality as the quartet embellish their punk roots with elements as diverse as funk (“Get Up!”), rock opera (“Odyssey”), nu-metal, and hip-hop (“Harsh Light”).

Theatricality has long been a part of Panic! At the Disco’s DNA. But following a 10-week run playing entrepreneur Charlie Price in *Kinky Boots* on Broadway, Panic!’s lone full-time member, Brendon Urie, has infused his unique brand of emo-pop with renewed song-and-dance-man vigor. Each track feels humongous, swirling with strings and shiny horns and topped with Urie’s now theater-tested voice. “Say Amen (Saturday Night)” and “(Fuck A) Silver Lining” are on par with PATD’s most grandiose hits, while “High Hopes” and “Hey Look Ma, I Made It” take inspiration for their brassiness from Urie\'s mother (“Mama said, ‘It’s uphill for oddities/Stranger crusaders ain’t ever wannabes’” goes one memorable line). Even the piano-and-strings ballad “Dying in LA” radiates enough charisma to reach the top deck.

If there’s one constant woven throughout Death Cab’s ninth LP, it’s change. *Thank You for Today* is the Seattle outfit’s first without influential co-founder Chris Walla, and their first to feature longtime touring members Zac Rae and Dave Depper. “What was really important to us was making an album as a *band*,” bassist Nick Harmer tells Apple Music. “We embraced having the process evolve.” That injection of fresh perspective can be felt not just in its often-intrepid arrangements, but in frontman Ben Gibbard’s lyrics as well: On “Gold Rush”—which features a sample from Yoko Ono’s avant-garde 1971 song “Mind Train”—Gibbard looks around his gentrifying neighborhood and pleads amid cascading guitars, “Please don’t change/Stay the same.” On the piano-driven closer “60 & Punk,” he addresses a struggling personal hero with questions that sound increasingly introspective: “When you\'re looking in the mirror, do you see/The kid that you used to be?” Taken together, it’s an album that imbues their pensive, time-worn indie-rock with a sense of new possibilities. “I think we struck a really good balance between where we’ve been and what we’re good at and where we want to go,” Harmer says. “I hope people can hear that.”

Music for the weak. Comprised of vocalist Charlie Steen, guitarists Sean Coyle-Smith and Eddie Green, bassist Josh Finerty, and drummer Charlie Forbes, the London-based five-piece began as school boys. From the outset, Shame built the band up from a foundation of DIY ethos while citing Eddy Current Suppression Ring and The Fall among their biggest musical influences. Utilising both the grit and sincerity of that musical background, shame carved out a niche in the South London music scene and then barrelled fearlessly into the angular, thrashing post-punk that would go on to make up Songs of Praise, their Dead Oceans debut. From “Gold Hole,” a tongue-in-cheek take-down of rock narcissism, to lead single “Concrete” detailing the overwhelming moment of realising a relationship is doomed, to the frustrated “Tasteless” taking aim at the monotony of people droning through their day-to-day, Songs of Praise never pauses to catch its breath.

Trophy Eyes’ third album forsakes their hardcore past for a brighter mixture of punk, rock, and pop. For all the album\'s softer moments, however, frontman John Floreani’s reflections on his history of drug abuse and violence make for a harrowing lyrical ride. After moving from Australia to Texas, he found that the physical and mental solace of his new surroundings provided him with a greater perspective on his past. The confessions continue with themes of addiction and self-loathing (“More Like You”), suicide (“Something Bigger Than This”), and the passing of youth (“Autumn”), making *The American Dream* the most personal and solemn Trophy Eyes album yet.

“Take me to the darkness/Hang me out to dry,” implores Underoath vocalist Spencer Chamberlain over the chiming keys and propulsive beat of “Rapture,” a particularly infectious track from the band’s first album in eight years. Embracing their shadow selves after disbanding in 2013, *Erase Me* finds the Floridian post-hardcore outfit reemerging with a kinetic set of pulsing pop anthems (“Wake Me,” “In Motion”), torrid industrial grooves (“Hold Your Breath,” “On My Teeth”), and soaring power ballads (“Ihateit,” “I Gave Up”), each amplified by expertly wielded electronics.

What pushes Fall Out Boy after all these years is being open to change. *M A N I A* is filled with unexpected delights. “Young and Menace” drops steep breakdowns, vocal manipulation, huge drums, and an “Oops!... I Did It Again” interpolation into a confetti cannon. Even the most fervent fan won’t see “HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T” coming, with the guys locking into a tropical groove. “Champion” and “The Last of the Real Ones” are classic FOB: Patrick Stump’s proud, keening voice, catchy choruses, and heart and mind hurtling together toward the finish. Stump’s inner soul man comes out on “Heaven’s Gate” and “Wilson (Expensive Mistakes),” the latter blessed with the most perfect lyric: “I’ll stop wearing black when they make a darker color.” *M A N I A* is aptly titled, a riot of electronic pop and rock, color and conviction.