A catchy tune, a quotable lyric, a rhythmic beat. To make a song that sits in someone’s soul takes surprisingly little work, and the dreaded title of “the singles artist” has followed more pop stars than there are ants in a colony. But the album, that collection of tracks that represents a complete vision, this sonic storytelling is what separates the good from the great.
At least, that is what we tell ourselves as the singles flop and the tour gets cancelled.
But no matter how hard artists try, sometimes they simply…don’t exist. And I’m not talking about lost LPs and unreleased albums. This is not a call for the ‘Original Doll’ to be released from the vaults (although I wouldn’t be opposed to that, Britney!), but rather a statement of fact. An album can be released, promoted, bought, sold, reviewed, and catalogued, and still not be real. Sometimes they simply aren’t there.
Albums that don’t matter
The most common albums that don’t exist are the ones that don’t matter. The ones that only get made to fulfil a contract and house the big singles. Katy Perry’s 2013 record ‘Prism’ comes to mind. Debuting at number one on the Billboard 200, and hosting two number one singles, this feels like it should be an important album. In theory, this was the triumph of Pop Star Perry, a statement that she was three albums into world domination. The singles, to this day, feel like a vital part of her cultural capital, even as it wanes and shrivels. ‘Dark Horse’ in particular stands out as representative of mid-2010s music transitioning to the moodier side of trap inspired pop.
But what is ‘Prism’ culturally?
Sometimes, the albums themselves do not matter, and in this case, Prism feels distinctly separate from the singles that came off of it. Front loaded with the hits, the back half is a collection of saccharine songs with a vague religious edge, ending with an explicit Christian anthem that was later performed at the Grammys. But in a year that saw some incredibly high highs and some devastatingly low lows, Katy Perry’s victory lap feels…empty.
Because the album would have done what it did regardless of what songs surrounded the hits. And because of that, it’s unsurprisingly that what is there is essentially nothing. There’s nobody coming to seek out ‘This Moment’, the Benny Blanco produced track that, like many songs, sounds like a poor attempt at Robyn with bland and passionless lyrics about “all we have is this moment”. You’re struck by how little personality Katy Perry can project when her heart isn’t in it. And it clearly wasn’t in it.
Maroon 5 is equally, if not more, guilty of making albums for album’s sake. This is a band that has theoretically dominated the 2010s pop and rock scenes with hit after hit after hit. In practice, I double a single person could name an album from them that isn’t ‘Songs About Jane’. At best, the more online of us might remember that one was titled after the “red pill” without knowledge of the alt-right’s affection for that term. Maybe. If so, just know that’s the one that features SZA and Cardi B.
The albums themselves don’t matter. They house hits, promote tours, and give everyone an excuse to make money. Do you think passion led to a song where Adam Levine does his best Jason Derulo impression –in falsetto– while singing with Julia Michaels?
Albums that disappear
In tandem, there’s also albums that, for a brief moment, do exist. The fireworks of music, that burn bright and then burn out. For this, we look to the reigning power couple of music – The Carters.
Beyonce Giselle Renaissance Knowles-Carter and Jay Z have the combined star power that a surprise drop of their album mid-tour with a powerhouse single that features a music video shot in the same place as the Mona Lisa should have destroyed the charts. Two years following ‘Lemonade’, Beyonce was arguably the most famous woman in the Western world, and her husband was clearly the topic of that conversation. But the album, titled ‘Everything Is Love’, just fizzled out of the conversation.
I’d make a joke about everything being ambivalence, but I actually quite like and respect the artists in question.
It's not a question of taste, or quality, or even over exposure. The reason why it disappeared isn’t relevant. The issue is that stardom did not equal staying power. ‘Apesh*t’ was a Migos knock off that faded into obscurity faster than Farrah from Destiny’s Child. And it’s not the only album related to Beyonce to have done that.
Hi, Drake!
‘Honestly, Nevermind’ was Drake getting to house music first, and it’s also an album so unimpressible by his standards that he released a big collaboration album 6 months later to wash away the stink. Like ‘Everything Is Love’, it was everywhere for a minute, and then gone. Its name is the punchline, although the Canadian rapper himself isn’t in on it.
Albums like these are, more often than not, the norm for pop stars. Rarely do artists have more than two albums that actively contribute to the canon. Some may further their legacy, but more often than not, an album only really matters in the context of a star’s career. Who amongst the general public could point of Janet Jackson’s ‘Damita Jo’ from a line up, or tell you which singles are housed on Usher’s ‘Here I Stand’?
Unlike albums that don’t matter, these albums do have the expectation of quality to them. ‘Prism’ could and did get away with being bad, because nobody expected anything more or less. ‘Everything Is Love’ came loaded with anticipation, and thus the failure to capture attention feels more climatic. These are the albums that may not succeed in the long term. Momentum will not carry them, and thus they almost always sink. But worse that sinking, some just evaporate when they hit the water.
Not everyone has a masterpiece in them every time.
Albums that inspire delusion
The final type of album that does not exist is the fictional album. Not literally fictional, but the album that inspires pre-emptive obsession and analysis. They outpace their quality and drown in positive reviews before they even hit the Target shelves.
Justin Timberlake’s ‘The 20/20 Experience’ is the oeuvre example of an album that, regardless of quality, was a masterpiece before release. Unlike an Album that does not matter, which will be a commercial hit regardless, this is the type of album that is mythologised in the lead up to the release. The quality is evident because the artist themselves is too important not to be great.
It doesn’t matter, in Timberlake’s case, that both big singles from the first release of the album are kind of drivel. ‘Suit & Tie’ is awash in a type of confidence and sleaze that he was being quickly outpaced by Bruno Mars for in pop. ‘Mirrors’ is mom-pop radio fodder that probably made your aunt cry at a wedding in 2014.
If so, I’m happy for Denise.
But for all these albums are hyped, the impact is short lived. They’re not necessarily fireworks, and more bonfires. Everyone is excited to attend, they tell themselves it’s the best thing they’ve experienced, and then a week few weeks later they’re deleting the pictures on their phone to make room for something that actually matters. In Timberlake’s case, that was just the continued dominance of ‘Unorthodox Jukebox’.
Lorde’s entire career seems to have been built off of this same principle. It’s not her fault, but the ultimate result was an album in ‘Solar Power’ that was critically hyped before its own release – to underwhelming returns. Commercially and sonically underwhelming, it couldn’t live up to the hype.
The ass-eating of Kanye West has resulted in endless bullshit and terrifyingly loyal fan base he has acquired (much like that of peer Nicki Minaj) has only resulted in the music getting less and less accessible. Also, often worse. But even when it isn’t getting worse, the hype too often outpaces the music, and when they underperform, it fucks with their heads. Fake outpacing success.
The key difference between the Albums that disappear and those Albums that inspire delusion, is how they are treated by both artist and public. On one hand, you have albums that fizzle out. Everyone moves on, accepts the loss, and nobody is too embarrassed. The first week sales are enough for the stans, the singles likely do fine, and nothing comes of it. But by comparison, these critically hyped monstrosities often don’t fade out, but play at a low volume in the background of some disaster we watch unfold. Fans throw hissy fits, critics are bewildered that they were “fooled”, and nobody stops to ask if the music itself matters.
These are the albums that motivate discourse that doesn’t need the record itself to exist. They’re important touchstones in theory, but artistically do little to deserve the attention. The album itself does not exist past their moment.
Keep your albums
So, if these albums don’t exist, why do I care?
I love pop music and pop culture, and this experience is fascinating in how repeatedly relevant it is. Pop is always ephemeral. Looking at the upcoming roster, and what has already made it out for 2023, there’s plenty of albums that won’t exist, or already don’t. Sam Smith’s ‘Gloria’ comes to mind as one that immediately faded from memory the day it dropped.
That isn’t to say they don’t matter. If one of my examples got you through a hard time, or a great night, so be it. But culturally, most of what is put out fades away, and that is the honest truth. They may sparkle for a moment, but the impact is as ephemeral as a cloud.
Listen or don’t, your Spotify Wrapped means nothing to me!
.