albums i listened to all the way through

posted this week and every week (8)

Mar 23, 2025

*For the week of March 16th-March 22nd, 2025*

Back in December, I wrote an essay entitled “Five Books That Discovered Me” and discussed five monumental pieces of non-fiction that found me in my time of need. In that piece, I quoted this passage from Kate Bolick’s book, Spinster.

“I’ve always known that a book will find you when you need to be found...”

Well—I feel that way about albums now too.

Obviously, we all know the feeling of associating certain albums with certain moments or times in our lives. That’s true and important but not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about the albums that find you in your time of need, be it completely randomly or in the form of a well-intentioned recommendation from a friend. These albums arrive just when they are needed, to push, to inspire, to comfort, and what have you.

I started thinking about this idea last week while editing my most recent Substack essay. I realized Fiona Apple’s Tidal came to me at just the right time—when I was finally ready to confront the past and process the unprocessed. I’d just moved to New York. I was working in a temp job I didn’t particularly like with shitty hours and zero challenge. I started reading literary fiction at my desk just to feel something. I turned very moody and started dressing like I was in a Donna Tartt novel. I started writing Gilmore Girls fanfiction without an ounce of irony. (Well—I still do this and won’t apologize for it.)

Listening to Tidal the first few times, I remember feeling seen, more than any other person or thing had ever made me feel. I felt more understood by that album than by any man I’d ever met, including the one I was dating.

I wasn’t just impressed. I wasn’t simply moved. I was hooked.

Something similar happened to me the Summer of 2020, but we already know that story. In each of these distinct periods of my life, I found albums that set my soul on fire. I could not let them go. I just had to listen to them over and over and over again.

It happened to me again this past week. Twice.

Thanks to a recommendation from my good friend Cat, I finally took it upon myself to give Japanese Breakfast’s 2021 masterpiece, Jubilee, a thoughtful listen. I’ve always been just a half-fan of Japanese Breakfast. By that, I mean, I love what I’ve heard, but haven’t taken the time to do a deep dive.

Boy, am I glad Cat told me to listen to Jubilee. I’ll save my full album reaction for another day, but let’s just say I listened to Jubilee at least five times this past week. The poetics. The bass lines. The synths. So, so great.

I really needed to hear that album this past week, so thank you, Cat.

As for the second album, my long-time favorites, Men I Trust, took it upon themselves to release one of the most stunning and atmospheric records I’ve ever heard this past Wednesday. If you know their work, that’s not exactly a surprise. They are masterful musicians and storytellers. Men I Trust holds one of the most inspired spaces in my heart—they found me. Back in 2018, I randomly came across Men I Trust on YouTube—a diamond in the rough found in a non-stop playing playlist, seemingly just a trick of the algorithm. I fell in love intensely. They have all the right elements—poetic lyrics, atmospheric synths, and thicc-ass bass lines.

It’s a shame, really, I’ve only seen them perform once. It was at Terminal 5. (If you’ve never seen a show at Terminal 5, do yourself a favor and don’t. It’s seriously a bad time, okay?) Their newest album Equus Asinus is a slight departure from their jazzier, upbeat sound. It’s softer. It’s hypnotizing, like getting lost in a blizzard.

Let’s just say I think the universe decided to bless me this week when this album came out the same time I started a new sleeping pill. Insomnia, who?

It’s incredible how the solid sound of bass can lull you into a sleep so deep you almost miss your stop on the train. I jotted down the following bits in my notes on my first listen—

"This is “dreamy, I want to go to sleepy” lofi bedroom pop at its finest.”
“Bass line go boom boom, but in a sweet way :)”
“I want to fall into this album like it’s a queen bed covered in fresh linen sheets and European-sized pillows.”
“Men I Trust songs should be the ones they use in twinkly music boxes with ballerinas that spin ‘round and ‘round.”
“Men I Trust songs make me want to snooze the alarm over and over again.”

Yes. Even in my energized, weekend state, I stand by those statements. True shit.

Thanks to Cat, JustSomeMustard, Thomas Morra, and Jared Smith for your incredible recommendations!

Here are the albums I listened to all the way through this past week: