Thursday, March 5, 2026

My 233 Personal Favorite Albums (pt 6/6)

People. We've reached the end. My personal favorite albums. The very top of this proverbial mountain of a list.
I don't think I'll write a long intro, as all these albums will get their own hearty share of Internet Ink.
Thanks for reading!

Some albums in this background made the list.

40
Modest Mouse
The Lonesome Crowded West
I've spent many hours driving the desolate highways of the Mountain West. Especially in my more isolated years. It's hard to say whether the views are ugly or beautiful. The "high desert," if you will. You see a lot of barbed-wire fences. Meandering cattle and lost coyotes. You can always see snowcapped mountains in the distance. You hear the wind beat against your car and see a storm incoming overhead. You stop for gas and a meal in an small abandoned town. That's where this album takes me. And I go there a lot.

39
Modest Mouse
The Moon & Antarctica
This album will always take me back to summer 2013. It was a fun time. I don't think anyone's ever called this album "fun." "Paper Thin Walls," maybe. But some summer nights are spent alone. I remember my friends and I drove up the mountains to watch a meteor shower in the middle of the night. We cozied up with some blankets on a big rock next to a lake. I felt it mandatory to step aside for 10 minutes to play "The Stars Are Projectors" on my mp3 player as I stargazed on my own. Both the moon and Antarctica seem impossibly distant from the world I've known around me. I just honestly believe we need to visit those places sometimes. 

38
Madvillain
Madvillainy
Would you believe me if I told you this album was love at first listen? It felt like I had every word memorized by my second listen. Not a lot of rap on this list, but Madivillainy always reminds me of my spring semesters at USU. Perhaps something I always played alongside The Avalanches' Since I Left You. Overloaded samples that make you feel like you're getting attacked by Saturday morning cartoon characters. And I assure you: Nothing could have prepared me for my first time hearing DOOM's voice.  

37
Jens Lekman
Night Falls Over Kortedala
I met Jens in 2022. He did a show in SLC. Anyways... This album about relationships reminds me of my absence thereof. "And I remember every kiss like my first kiss..." Jens is a fragile dude who's sensitive about his run-ins with the ladies. He'd probably be too depressed for the music industry if he wasn't freaking hilarious. Love all the stories on this album. Love all the samples. Takes me back to my favorite semester of college, and all the minor romantic interests who would seemingly enter and exit my life in the bat of an eye.

36
Sufjan Stevens
Carrie & Lowell
This album always made sense to me, but I really didn't foresee it staying in my life. One of my favorite songwriters came out with their most stripped-down folk album yet. I listened to it a lot while I worked in the mountains that summer at Redfish Lake. Then I dropped it for like 2 years. But then I wanted that "mountain summer" feeling back. And my favorite songs kept hitting me deeper. This album makes me want to drive to someplace with pine trees and have a good cry. Sufjan is probably my #1 favorite songwriter now. 

35
Elliott Smith
Either/Or
I've never been to Portland. I've lived in California, Idaho, British Columbia... I'm a stranger to Oregon. But there was a winter in Logan UT where we were getting some dense fog in the mornings and nights. I listened to this album daily. The tape recorder *click* that kicks off the album stands as an iconic moment for me. This album is perfect for driving in the fog. Which I assume is common weather in Portland. Either/Or is also an excellent autumn album. But I remember that January fog, kicking off my year of Elliott Smith becoming one of my all-time favorite artists.

34
Destroyer
Kaputt
One of the lesser-mentioned products of chronic mental illness is something I'll simply refer to as "haze." Not just living out your days in a state of brain fog, but trying to either review your past or envision your future through a thick sheen of haze. Kaputt is an album that works both for your strong moments of clarity and your faded periods of haze. I don't think it was trying to sound futuristic, but I believe this album will always sound good. Crazy to think the artist who gave us Streethawk and Rubies could outdo himself, but I think he did it here. I remember listening to the title track on repeat after Donald Trump won the 2016 election, and believing it to be strangely prophetic.

33
Broken Social Scene
You Forgot It in People
So, like... 2000s indie rock is probably my personal favorite genre. This list has more of that to come. I was introduced to it as a teenager in 2007. Hearing this album for my first time as a college kid blew my mind. I found the originators. I felt like I had heard all these songs before. Maybe I had? I couldn't really tell. But I was in my 20s, and taken back to age 17. I got to see them live a couple years ago, and the concert experience held true the band's naturally communal ethos. They want every person to be involved with their music as possible. It's a beautiful thing.

32
Radiohead
OK Computer
A LOT TO SAY. I loved this when I bought the CD during my 1 semester at junior college. But this is another case of myself not realizing just how good an album is. Perhaps I dock it down a few spots because it reminds me of my confounding mental descent at the time. But like... I've now listened to a ton of 90s albums in my life. And this might be the most futuristic album of my lifetime. Plus, on a personal level, its themes sum up the things I would grow up to think about everyday. Prolonged experience of working menial jobs has slowly turned my soul's growth from stagnation to deterioration. The album includes vague political sentiments that point out how this unique dread will only worsen as capitalist globalism surges on. 1997, folks. And of course, the semi-ironic positivity in the album booklet has always left me uncomfortable. "We hope you are OK." The LDS Jesus Christ statue. It all hits. Also: "Climbing Up the Walls" is one of the most underrated songs of all time.

31
Beck
Odelay
We now switch from appreciating objectively respected art to... well, Beck. When I was 17, Beck was my GOAT. When I got Odelay, I believed I finally found the pinnacle of truly artistic music. When I got Sea Change for my 17th birthday, I believed I found the pinnacle of truly sad music. Odelay is definitely the better album with the longer shelf life. I try to convince myself that it's too "slacker," or amateurish, or blatantly rips off The Beastie Boys. But I still love this thing. It's a springtime album from an important part of my life. And I love the album booklet art.

30
Kendrick Lamar
To Pimp a Butterfly
I just got really excited about writing this. This album could have been outside my top 50. My trifecta of perfect 2015 albums (Kendrick Lamar, Sufjan Stevens, Father John Misty) could be ranked in any order. But spring is just around the corner, and my heart remembered a time where I felt this album to be my #1. I always considered this a dark album that sounds great on a sunny day. But also easily gave into the hype of believing this to be the greatest album of my generation. Perhaps my younger-self's views on "greatness" actually soured its reputation for me. But it was fun, man. What a time to be alive. 

29
TV on the Radio
Return to Cookie Mountain
I was an avid Rolling Stone reader when I was 16. Their fresh list of the best albums of 2006 convinced me to purchase 4 CDs: Bob Dylan, Modern Times. John Mayer, Continuum. Red Hot Chili Peppers, Stadium Arcadium. TV on the Radio, Return to Cookie Mountain. Perhaps none of these albums are alike. But my sheltered teenage brain trying to crack the code behind TV on the Radio changed my life. I didn't understand it at the time, yet I genuinely loved it. I slowly got into Pitchfork recommendations because of this album. But years later, nothing really sounds like Cookie Mountain. Even within the band's own discography, this stands out between their grimy lo-fi releases and their stadium-sized polished stuff. This album's still a puzzle to this day.

28
Lauryn Hill
The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill
In Rolling Stone's most recent rendition of their "great albums of all time" list, this album sits at #10. I disagreed when I saw that. That has to be too high, right? Yet here I am ranking it way up at #28 among my life's personal favorites. I have a memory tied to this album with every season except fall. 10 years ago, I actually performed "Doo Wop (That Thing)" with just my voice and my acoustic guitar, in front of hundreds of people. More recent memories include listens while driving around on a sunny day with the windows down. And "Nothing Even Matters" is a contender for my favorite love song ever. Not to mention all the touching skits... A younger Lauryn is absent from school on the one day these children learn about "LOVE." How do you not relate to that?

27
Yo La Tengo
I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One
Yo La Tengo makes love songs. To be honest, not many topics beyond that. There was this one girl, I recall listening to this album before asking her to go out with me. And I recall returning to this album after she broke up with me. At 68 minutes, the album felt longer than the relationship's actual existence. I had this on heavy rotation for months, as this is both a winter and spring album for me. I've listened to this as I've walked through snowfall, as well as breezes blowing around white blossoms. An important album for my emotionally heavy evenings as a college student.

26
Joni Mitchell
Blue
There are many different brands of depression. Here, Joni tries to touch base on all of them. Oddly enough, some songs on Blue make me feel "green." But as advertised, most of it makes me feel "blue." I've grown to define of "blue" as--for lack of better vocabulary: Absolutely depressed out of your fucking mind. Joni goes back-and-forth between straightforward folk singer to rambling jazz pianist with disturbingly natural ease. By the time you get to "The Last Time I Saw Richard," you have aged 10 years. And it's not fun. But the experience is mandatory.


25
Bruce Springsteen
Born to Run
Let's talk about romanticism. I bought this CD when I was in 8th grade. I recall listening to it on a school bus as our class took our middle school graduation trip along the coast of Monterey Bay. This music was always beautiful and bombastic to me. But I almost hate how the lyrics aren't mysterious to me anymore. When Bruce says "suicide machines," he's just referring to cars. Learning that spoiled everything. Young adult life is so hard to take in. The emotions are too big to handle. Even events like driving a car full of friends to do stupid stuff feels like an action-packed, life-or-death adventure. Your job is hell. Every kiss is heaven. "Screen door slams, Mary's dress waves" might be the greatest opening line ever. So what are Bruce's closing lines here? "HAUAUAUAUAUAUHHHHH!!!"

24
Marvin Gaye
What's Going On
There's a special time and place for this album. For me, that time is a cold snowy night. As for the place? This album takes me lots of places. Each movement of this R&B opus transitions you to a new place. Maybe it's the gates of heaven. Maybe it's inner city Detroit. I will say... I fell in love with album in my late 20s. I've come to see it as a spiritual companion to Pet Sounds (more on that later). Perhaps too cathartic and transcendent to casually discuss. This is soul.

23
Kanye West
My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
This album was released on my 20th birthday. Where was I? Serving an LDS mission in North Vancouver BC. I recall this being a terrible day for me, soundtrack'd by Josh Groban's "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear." I came home from my mission in 2012 to see my favorite rapper released this album that received a perfect score from both Rolling Stone and Pitchfork. I tried the whole album, and didn't get it (full rap albums weren't my thing yet). But I always loved "POWER." It's as though I started out recognizing the genius of this song, and that steadily branched out to every song on this album. No exaggeration: There is no other album like this. Ever. It's the only rap album that reminds me of Led Zeppelin or something. There's rap music "before and after" this album, as far as I'm concerned. It's undeniably commercial, yet genuinely progressive and obscure. And I was there for it. Well, kinda.

22
The Smiths
The Queen Is Dead
I mentioned Jeff Buckley's Grace becoming a huge album for me when I first started taking antipsychotics. The Queen Is Dead hit me at that same time. It was December, and the weather seemed to always be either rain or snow. The world looked green and felt chilly, like England. This album managed to stick around for months, then years to come. Not just winter. At 36 minutes, I can listen to this any time. It's a casual listen, just as much as it is an emotional heavyweight. Every song sounds like a single to me. Each moment is anticipatory. I find it not nearly as depressive as it is triumphant.

21
The Clash
London Calling
Ugh... These are getting long. I love this album so freaking much. This is meant to be played as loud as possible. Each song is punchy and topical. It's full of charisma and energy. No other album better captures the elation of rock 'n' roll. And to think punk rock was supposed to be a sign that rock was dead. I've recently recaptured my emotional connection with this record. Not like I've ever cried in my car to "The Right Profile," or kissed a girl while "Koka-Kola" was playing. It's just that I believe all the anger and joy expressed on this album is justified. "Revolution" seems just as much a political outcry as it is an open invitation to personal liberation. This is what punk rock was made for.

20
Paul Simon
Graceland
There's a specific stretch of months from my younger life that feels both magical and incomplete. I'm of course referring to the tail end of my senior year of high school. Seemed like I spent that spring almost entirely outside. And this 80s CD my dad had owned finally clicked with me. It was relatively the only time of my life I ever felt I was a free human being. I was listening a rich white man stealing African music to complain about his divorce. But that man was Paul Simon, and he knows how to write songs. He sounded reborn. And I felt that. It helped that I'd go onto work that summer at Redfish Lake with a bunch of people who shared a love for this album. There's a lot of life here.

19
Weezer
Weezer (Blue Album)
This ranking looks too high. But this lives at the crossroads between much of my favorite music. I suppose there was a specific time in my life where Pinkerton hit harder. But I'm always drawn to The Beach Boys influence on here. There's a long list of 90s indie rock bands I prefer over Weezer. Built to Spill carries the emotional element. Guided By Voices are my go-to power pop band. I just think there's something perfectly sentimental about Blue Album. 10 songs. The guitars are chunky, the production is clean. There's a songwriting simplicity on this album which they never captured again. I learned to play these songs on guitar. The lyrical content actually sounds genuine here; the boyish nerdiness, the storytelling, the self-conscious confusion with the ladies... This ranking doesn't look too high at all. 

18
Radiohead
Kid A
Got this album sometime close to my 18th birthday. It's a mandatory listen in November and December. Reminds me of nights where it's dark and snowy outside. And I'm in my room with the space heater on, getting ready for my performance of Ebenezer Scrooge in the JHS production of A Christmas Carol. I didn't understand electronic music, but I was acquainted with isolation. This album was dark, but I also found something warm about it. Maybe I'm just thinking of the keyboard tone on the opening track... But yeah, I remember getting weird feelings in my stomach listening to this. The alien music playing from the stereo, and the human being listening from his bedside.

17
Beach House
Teen Dream
Huh. This is the third consecutive album on this list with a 10-song tracklist. This is important. On Teen Dream, I've always considered it important. Not too many words are sung here, only adding more sentimental weight to each word. I suppose there were hundreds of other "washed out" indie pop albums like this released around 2010. But Victoria Legrand's vocal performance is soulful and commanding. She doesn't sing like this anymore. But none of the lazy indie kids ever did it like this. This is my ideal dream pop album. Love the guitars, love the lo-fi aesthetic, love the instrumental/percussion choices. Above all else: I love the songs.

16
Frank Ocean
Blonde
This album was released the week I began my final semester of college. I had been waiting on this release for 4 years. I didn't think it would sound like this at all. Some proponents of the debut single "Nikes" had me thinking this album would suck. But I loved it. But by the end of the semester, I concluded this was even better than Channel Orange. I grinded full-speed ahead to successfully finish college with no future plans whatsoever. There was a dread lingering alongside my drive. Perhaps such is the Millennial experience. This album was my soundtrack to that. I had no idea it would quickly be considered a classic among Gen Z. But forget the influence. Throwing hints of vulnerability amid stoner nonsense might be my favorite brand of songwriting. And Frank already had that gift anyway. "We gonna see the future first."

15
Nick Drake
Pink Moon
Folk music ruined my life. I think Boring White Guy Music was already my favorite genre by the time I bought this album. Perhaps in another time of my life, I would have been drawn to the life and raw beauty of these minimalist songs. But instead, I found it totally bleak. And this tiny little folk album stood at the forefront of my mental decline at age 19. I guess I can feel some joy as I hear the opening chords to "Pink Moon," but only to get my guts emptied by track 2. "Now I'm weaker than the palest blue. Oh so weak, in this need for you." Jesus H. Christ.

14
The Flaming Lips
The Soft Bulletin
Oddly enough, I purchased this album around the same time of my life as Pink Moon. Although the emotion of this album is expressed from the exact opposite angle. This sounds utterly mind-blowing. To the point that I'm not sure how it's not the 100% consensus pick for best album of 1999. I listen to this every time I test out new headphones. Aside from that, ya got all these crazy existential themes on here. Of course I found this depressing when I was 19. But now, "depressing" isn't the right word for it. It's heavy. I lie awake at night to this thing. It seems like even my smallest struggles feel like "life or death" scenarios. If it's gettin' heavy, I can at least be accompanied by some cool-ass tunes.

13
Animal Collective
Merriweather Post Pavilion
I'll start off by saying: I only knew of this album's existence because it was Pitchfork-approved. I knew a couple of singles from it before heading to Redfish Lake for the summer in 2009. I met a lot of hipster types up there, and I ripped this CD from a friend. It absolutely blew my 18 year-old mind. From the very beginning of the opening track. I played this album all summer, and it became this grandiose, psychedelic, optimistic, emotive soundtrack to my mountain explorations. Easy for you to imagine, I'm sure. I think this album changed my outlook on some "life" stuff. Romance. Positivity. Self. Adventure. Family. Studio recording techniques. It's like I'm still trying to piece these things together. This music and my scenery just made every "life" thing feel so big. 

12
LCD Soundsystem
Sound of Silver
I can't forget what this album meant to me when I was a high school senior. I remember dancing along to it in my room and realizing that I don't own any music like this. Then of course you have what's probably The Greatest Back-to-Back of All Time with "Someone Great" and "All My Friends" in the middle of it all. But it's harder to recapture how songs like "North American Scum" and "Watch the Tapes" felt at the time. Can't tell whether it's just me or society as a whole who's become desensitized to the LCD sound. I assure you: No one was doing it like LCD in the 2000s. Important developmental album for me as I was now a young adult, still in high school, with lots of friends. 

11
The Strokes
Is This It
The opening lines say it all: "Can't you see I'm trying? I don't even like it." It's a sentiment I connected with at age 17. And I just now realize that these lines have defined my entire adult life. Recognizing personal issues as a teen is important, and yet somehow, they get worse. But I went to a couple prom nights in high school. I believe both times, I arrived home around midnight, and put this album on in my room as I undressed from my rented tux. It was the most connection I felt all night. "I'm so tired of trying to have fun." Julian Casablancas never said that, but he could have. To top things off, I learned how to play these songs on guitar. The Strokes have somehow become one of the most overrated bands of all time. But I remember being a fan on a personal level. "I'm working / so I won't have to try / so hard." That's forever, man.

10
R.E.M.
Automatic for the People
I said Beck was my GOAT when I was 17. On that note, 90s alt-rock was my favorite genre. And R.E.M. was the band. I bought a few albums of theirs during this time. I can't deny that Automatic was my favorite. Each track is a masterclass in songwriting. I already knew a few of its songs beforehand, yet the whole listen was surprising to me. Love the use of organ on here. I bought it in the summer while on a family vacation, camping by the beach in Watsonville CA. I'll always associate this album with the ocean, and summer. The album booklet photos confirm this is the proper setting. And I suppose I thought about death a lot when I was a teen. This album discusses that topic, with the back-to-back of "New Orleans Instrumental No. 5" and "Sweetness Follows" as the heart and soul of it all. 

9
Arcade Fire
Funeral
My theory is that Broken Social Scene created the archetypal sound of 2000s indie. Then Arcade Fire took that sound and made it accessible to kids. It even has those cheerleader chants on "Neighborhood #2" that make for a questionable artistic choice. "Come on Alex! You can do it!" Anyways. My love for this album peaked the summer I was 22 years old. At this point of my life, the words "passion" and "anxiety" were basically interchangeable. Made me feel like running as fast as I could through the summer night air. And that's something about this album that gets misunderstood. Funeral really wasn't the corniest thing in the world. It was youthful. And therefor kinda stupid. But it was sincere. They totally bought into what they were doing. And I needed that. 

8
My Bloody Valentine
Loveless
There have been times of my life where everything around me feels dreamlike. In college, there were times I experienced this in a positive way. That's how I'd define Loveless. I've never watched any anime in my life, but I assume there's some girly anime character who always looks to the sky everywhere she walks and smiles with little stars around her face. I'm a 35 year-old man, and that's how Loveless makes me feel. "To Here Knows When" is my favorite song on here. I just remember summer 2013 turning into fall, and the new semester meant I was meeting a bunch of new girls. I didn't really see any future in seriously pursuing any of them. But I was constantly crushin'. And that's the magic of Loveless.

7
Kendrick Lamar
good kid, m.A.A.d city
This had be in my top 10. When I was 23, this became arguably the most overplayed album in my lifetime. I had every word and every musical moment memorized. I never felt this way about a rap album before. It just fit in so perfectly with the rest of my favorite music from the early 2010s. It even samples a song from Teen Dream. It's not like my life has ever been like Kendrick's (although I remember going to Food 4 Less when I was a kid), but his storytelling makes you feel like you're spending a day in his shoes. It's cinematic, it's personal, it's cool. If you saw me walking around USU campus with headphones on, there was no need to ask. You already knew who I was listening to. 

6
Stevie Wonder
Songs in the Key of Life
Sometime around my 25th birthday, I felt a genuine change of heart. This album was the sound of that. Just hearing the opening notes sung on "Love's in Need of Love Today" still has the power to make me crumble. The concepts of love and life on this album are some of the most important lessons you'll ever learn. Stevie doesn't talk about life like everything's sunny and happy, but he makes a point to sermonize that we can never possibly overstate the power of love in each individual person. Outside these messages, this has some of the most futuristic sounds I've ever heard. I went years thinking that "Isn't She Lovely" was some standard synthesizer hit from the mid-80s. Nope. It's from 1976. So now these stories of love and life have this new mind-blowing element to them. He supposedly made these songs after having his first child. The joy is real. And maybe joy can be real for me, too. 

5
Bob Dylan
Blood on the Tracks
I tend to give songs with life lessons the backseat to music with more pertinent topics. Like girls making you sad. I worked at Redfish Lake for 3 summers. 2009 was developmentally significant., 2012 was a nightmare. 2015 was kinda spiritual. That's when I fell in love with Blood on the Tracks. I knew this album was about Bob's divorce, but I wondered if this is also when he started to go Christian. I think there were times when I read the Bible while listening to this album. So much 70s folk music was influenced by 60s Bob, although a lot of it turned out corny. So here, it's like Bob tried making an album that sounded like the people trying to sound like him. And "corny" is not the word for this. There's something about this album that always stings my soul. Some moments in life make you laugh until you cry. This album makes me cry until I smile. 

4
Pavement
Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain
We're back in high school folks. Senior year. I bought Crooked Rain at a record store in Boise while on a February 2009 field trip to Boise State University with like 8 theatre students. I had a life-changing acting experience at an audition workshop with my buddy Vinny. And we found the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile in a mall parking lot. All while we began rehearsals for our JHS production of Guys & Dolls. The memories already came pre-installed. I listened to this album every day during spring break, accompanied by a bike ride around town. And that's what this album reminds me of the most. Springtime bike rides all over Jerome. I felt free. Pavement is actually from the town where I grew up: Stockton CA. This album made me imagine what it would have been like if I was a senior in Stockton. Would I spend time riding my bike through my neighborhood? Would I have gotten into Pavement? Probably neither. But in real life, I got to fall in love with small-scale educational theatre, and cruised all the dinky streets of Jerome. And maybe I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. 

3
The Beach Boys
Pet Sounds
I bought Pet Sounds when I was 15. Our family just moved to Idaho. We still only used dial-up internet, so most of my music tastes came from what I could scope out on the radio. I was raised with a couple Beach Boys greatest hits comps. And I must admit, I didn't understand why Pet Sounds was considered one of the greatest albums of all time. A couple songs made me sad. The hit songs were pretty good. So how did this eventually become a classic for me? With each year of my life, it's apparent to me that this is how I think about music. When I listen to any music from the last 60 years, and how I want each instrument to sound, Pet Sounds is my textbook. I think of late summer nights alone, walking in the dark past all the trees in my neighborhood. I can smell everything. There's a boyish sadness and sentimentality within. The world is heavy and light all at once. And everything feels like Pet Sounds. Also: "I Just Wasn't Made for These Times" is the greatest song of all time. 

2
Sufjan Stevens
Illinois
Here's another album I ripped from my hipster friends during Redfish summer 2009. Of course, Sufjan's extravagant approach to folk music matched the epic mountain scenery. But this album hits just as hard when I'm walking through a park, or lying awake at night. I can't believe how gorgeous this album sounds. I've played it so much, I forgot that all this music sounds totally quirky to most people. To me, it's a spiritual experience. It's made for spring and summer nights, spent outside. The way Sufjan mentions God on here is profound. Almost as though there's an unsettled trauma woven in the words. It's up to us to decide just how much each songs means to the artist. The album can sound either grandiose or folksy, but the songs all hold the same power. Also: "Come On! Feel the Illinoise!" is the greatest song of all time.

1
Wilco
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
The people who know me best came into this list knowing this would be my #1. While all these albums have memories associated with specific seasons of my life, I recall Yankee Hotel Foxtrot being on my heavy rotation for like 18 straight months. I suppose it's good for either a casual listen or a big fat emotional experience. But it's still hard for me not to feel something substantial when "Poor Places" builds up. Probably my favorite penultimate album track ever. But this album was extremely easy for me to get into, when I was 17. I mentioned my love for Beck's Odelay and Sea Change earlier. This was kinda like a mix of both of those; tying depressing songs with some upbeat alt-rock features. This album sounds good at the ocean, in the mountains, in the city, in your own bedroom, in your car... Also, every song is insanely quotable. "You have to learn how to die, if you wanna be alive." "Our love is all of God's money." "I am an American aquarium drinker." I wrote about this album for a couple college classes, but I think I'm coming back to my original reasons for loving it. It works for teens and adults alike. You just have to show up ready to be in the moment. "Every moment's a little bit later."

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