Bwog’s been busy this semester. As history tells it, Bwog has music taste! It’s up to you all to decide whether it’s good or bad.

Chancey Stefanos

1989 (Taylor’s Version), Taylor Swift

This has undoubtedly been the year of Taylor Swift, and while I know some of us might be tired of hearing about her, I will never be. 

1989 has been my favorite album for almost ten years, and when I found out the rerecorded version would be released during my first semester of college (in New York!), I took it extremely personally. When I first heard 1989 in 2014, I, like many, immediately made my dad illegally download it from YouTube onto my iPod Touch. The following summer, I went to New York for the first time, and as I touched down at LaGuardia, I had “Welcome To New York” blasting in my ears. Sure, it sounds very cliche, but that trip made me fall in love with this city. Ever since then, I had this insane dream of moving to NYC, and this year, I finally fulfilled that dream. So, not only is Swift back in her 1989 era, but this time, so am I. Some of my favorite songs sound even better (“I Wish You Would” enthusiasts, please find me), and the vault tracks are incredible and just the kind of pop perfection I’ve been craving. Exploring this amazing city while blasting a new version of the NYC-coded songs I’ve loved for my entire teenage life is an out-of-body experience and makes this album undoubtedly representative of my first semester of college. 

Emma Burris

Roman Candle, Elliott Smith 

Editor’s note: Trigger warning in paragraph two for violence and death.

I’ve been a huge Elliott Smith fan since high school. He was my top artist of last year and stands as my 6th most-listened-to artist of all time. However, although he’s one of my favorite musicians, I still haven’t listened to all his albums. Partly because of stagnant laziness, partly because of a melancholy that since he died in 2003, his discography is finite. With artists I enjoy who have passed away, I prefer to savor their albums, spreading them out over time so it feels like there’s still some newness left. 

This semester I finally listened to Roman Candle for the first time. I love Elliott Smith’s haunting lyrics, captivating melodies, and folksy instrumentals. Roman Candle retains these elements, yes—but as Smith’s debut album, it has a level of rawness and simplicity that has especially touched me. “Condor Ave” is the standout of this album, a song he wrote when he was 17 about a woman who gets in a fight with her boyfriend and drives away, where she falls asleep at the wheel, killing herself and a drunk homeless man in a car crash. Every single time I listen to this song I get chills all throughout my body. I sincerely think this may be one of the greatest songs ever written. The lyrics are so beautiful that it would be futile for me to emphasize one line over the others, except for a lyric derived from my brain—“I wish that God had never been discovered”—having misunderstood one of Smith’s lyrics. Although Smith didn’t write “God” there, I think about that lyric at least once a week. 

Two more standouts from this album are “No Name #1” and “No Name #3.”  “No Name #1” is a perfect example of Smith’s guitar technique, which is paired with his crooning voice, singing to himself about how he doesn’t belong at the party he’s at. “No Name #3,” featured in Good Will Hunting, can be described as one of the most peaceful songs ever written. Some other songs I enjoy from Roman Candle are “Last Call” and “Roman Candle,” songs that somehow portray anger as a softness. Overall, Roman Candle is one of the most beautiful albums I’ve ever heard. It embodies such pure humanness to the extent where I feel that if we had to send one album to extraterrestrial life to embody Earth, this would be it. Please listen to it—not only is it only 30 minutes long, but it will change you. 

Gina Brown

Turn On the Bright Lights, Interpol

This album was with me through thick and thin. From many late nights in the Brooks Study Lounge to evenings where I’d laboriously layer on eye makeup before a night out, Interpol was with me. I even got a nice video message from them through my Spotify wrapped! Interpol is the perfect NYC band—not just because they’re from NYC, but because when I listen to them, I feel transported to some bar in the East Village wearing my little black dress and some Docs. Interpol is for the morning after, when I wake up with smudgy eyes after forgetting to take off my makeup and have to rouse myself out of bed and into the world at large.

Jack Rado

Lightfoot!, Gordon Lightfoot

Columbia University in the City of New York has done strange things to my brain chemistry, and the strangest is that I got really into Gordon Lightfoot this semester—Gordon Lightfoot, whose most famous song is about a shipwreck that killed 29 people. His 1966 album Lightfoot! (exclamation point included free of charge) is significantly less depressing. It’s a collection of pared-back folk songs, just acoustic guitar and upright bass, that deal with themes of heartbreak and the beauty of nature. Pretty standard mid-century folk stuff. But his performance is otherworldly: he has this beautiful vibrato that doesn’t descend into unsubtle Chita Rivera territory, and his voice is deep and soothing without being creepy or overwrought. Probably my favorite song is “Changes,” a cover of an old Phil Ochs ballad. The lyrics are wonderfully twee—”Trapped within the circle time parade,” “Dream about the pictures that I play”—and the guitar backing is sort of bouncy and wistful and sleepy all at the same time. Perfect music for a fall walk in Riverside Park.

Jessica Tsang

Home Video, Lucy Dacus

I swear that this album fully changed the trajectory of my life. Every single song is so beautifully written and sends back shockwaves of nostalgia into my brain and has truly gotten me through what I would say was a very rough semester. I saw “Please Stay” live this semester and I could not stop sobbing. Lucy Dacus the lyrical genius you are. “Partner in Crime” is my shower song and I feel bad for all my suitemates because they hear that song on repeat. I love Home Video to an absurd degree and it truly shaped the course of my semester. The album feels like the perfect mix of melancholy, nostaligia, bliss, and heartache that make for a perfect, if not genius, album. It sounds like what my semester felt like and every single song is a masterpiece.

Alison Hog

Melodrama, Lorde

This semester I’ve found myself in a puzzling state of yearning—wanting to move forward while being afraid of leaving the past, and even the present, behind. Melodrama by Lorde encapsulates through its heartfelt lyrics, sung in a raspy mellow voice, and electrifying music the feelings of anxiety, confusion, melancholy, and thrill—all at once. While I might be six years too late, something I attribute to my lack of knowledge and interest in pop culture, all of it still resonates deeply, proving that Melodrama is and will remain a timeless album. Songs like “Green Light” (“Cause honey I’ll come get my things, but I can’t let go”), “Sober” (“We pretend that we just don’t care / But we care”), and “Sober II” (“Lights are on and they’ve gone home, but who am I?”) leave me wanting to scream, dance, and cry. While all tracks are masterpieces, there is one that truly stands out: “Perfect Places.” Captivated by its magnetic rhythm and vivid lyrics, this song is the reason why I decided to give Melodrama a shot in the first place. I am no longer 19 and most certainly not on fire; I am 20 and looking instead for something I am unsure of, hoping there is something bigger, greater, more exciting waiting just around the corner. This semester I’ve spent countless static days and graceless nights trying to find perfect places to feel alive in. But right there, at the end of the journey, in a cathartic closing to an emotional album, Lorde assures you and me that everything will turn out alright. What the fuck are perfect places anyway?

Tal Bloom

Unreal Unearth, Hozier

Ohhh, Andrew. Andrew, Andrew, Andrew. You really woke up and decided to shatter me. “Do you know I could break beneath the weight / Of goodness, love, I still carry for you?” YES MR. HOZIER, I did know. This album is actual perfection—musically, lyrically, instrumentally—AND it follows the nine circles of Hell. We love a concept album. This album has truly shaped my semester, from sobbing to it walking through Riverside, to sobbing to it at the concert. This album is genuinely so beautiful, from its stories to its lyrics to its genres. With no further ado, I have decided I must map my semester onto this album. It’s what Andrew would have wanted.

Descent to Hell: “De Selby Part 1 & 2”: I got to campus in August to be an orientation leader. Boom, the freshmen gave me COVID. Descent to Hell, check!

First Circle: Limbo, “First Time”: Back in this lovely, hellish school that is Barnumbia, some part of me indeed “must have died.” And “came alive?” Oh, transitions. Oh, Barnumbia. But also “These days I think I owe my life / To flowers that were left here by my mother.” Hellooooooo.

Second Circle: Lust, “I’Carrion” & “Francesca”: “I do not have wings, love, I never will.” I indeed don’t have wings. Also, I do fear hurricanes. Otherwise, super factually accurate.

Third Circle: Gluttony, “Eat Your Young”: I did not eat any children this semester. That is all.

Fourth Circle: Greed, “Damage Gets Done”: I must confess, this is the only song I skip on this album. But damage indeed got done this semester.

Fifth Circle: Wrath, “Who We Are”: This song is really sad. “So much of our lives / is just carving through the dark / to get so far.” I believe Hozier wrote this song about walking home from JJ’s Library at 3 am. Stumbling through the dark, trying to get “so far” by writing “essays.” 

Sixth Circle: Heresy, “All Things End” & “Son of Nyx”: All things do indeed end. This semester (thank god), is coming to an end. The percussion in this song really slays. But also, I have issues with endings. And closure. 

Seventh Circle: Violence ‘‘To Someone from a Warm Climate” & “Butchered Tongue”: I have circulation issues, and am always freezing. I think this is what Hozier was getting at with “You’d shake for minutes there and move your legs.” I appreciate the visibility. “Butchered Tongue”—beautiful, beautiful song.

Eighth Circle: Fraud, “Abstract (psychopomp)” & “Anything But”: “Abstract (psychopomp)”—I actually am going to cry. This might be the most heart-wrenching song on the album; he is literally guiding a dying animal into the afterlife. “Its eye still glistening / The cold wet of your nose.” Bawling. On the other hand, “Anything But” feels like skipping through a field of flowers. “Yeaaahhhhhaaaaheyyyy” goes in my personal top five Hozier outbursts. “I want to be soft as a single stone in a rainstick.” Please.

Ninth Circle: Treachery, “Unknown / Nth”: I only have two things to say. 1. Please listen to this song at 2:54. 2. “Sha la la.”

Ascent, “First Light”: Shoutout ascension. Shoutout hope.

Riley Stacy

Sling, Clairo

Clairo’s sophomore album has been the soundtrack of my semester as a result of one very specific walk I took in October as I was starting to settle into Columbia and New York. The beginning of my semester sucked—I had a horrible time adjusting, I had convinced myself that I’d made the wrong choice in deciding on a college, and I was ready to go home by night one. On a random evening in October, I made myself go on a walk with no destination and the intent of not stopping until I felt better. I walked up and down West End, in Riverside, and across to Columbus as the sun was setting and had a very intense “Holy shit, I live in New York” moment. The whole time, I was listening to Sling, effectively making it the soundtrack of my semester from there on out. 

At its heart, I think Sling is about growing up and becoming more aware of yourself, those around you, and your environment. The very first line of the first track on the album is “I’m stepping inside a universe designed against my own beliefs” (“Bambi”), which perfectly illustrates my initial discomfort being here. In following tracks like “Zinnias” (“I could wake up with a baby in a sling just a couple doors down from Abigail, my sister, man, and her ring”), “Harbor” (“Know myself better than I have in years, I don’t know why I have to defend what I feel”), and “Blouse” (“If touch could make them hear, then touch me now”), Clairo explores thoughts and feelings about motherhood, being a woman, and getting to know yourself. This angle is so incredibly Barnard that it makes me a little sick.

The pièce de résistance of this album to me, though, is “Reaper.” This song is genuinely the most heartbreaking but realistic conversation about motherhood, why people become mothers, and the immense pressure women feel to “be a provider, too.” Beyond the actual lyrics, I think this song might be the most musically beautiful on the album. I also have a vivid memory of walking down West End on that random October evening and listening to it while watching the setting sun reflect beautifully on the street. It’s deeply tied into that pivotal moment in my big life transition. 

Overall, the album is incredibly sonically interesting and an incredible, cohesive body of work (which makes me love it even more as a classically-trained musician.) I am grateful to have had it on repeat this semester.

Rory Collins

Preacher’s Daughter, Ethel Cain

Oh I have so much to say about this album. Anything released by Hayden I know will be good music, but the storytelling behind these songs and the concept of the album is like nothing I have ever seen before. It truly encapsulated my first semester at college, all the way down to the gritty cannibalism (I did not partake in such an activity, I do mean this metaphorically). Allow me to explain song-by-song how this album affected me:

“Family Tree (Intro)”: Oh HELLLO the preacher speaking at the beginning? Pure gold. “These crosses all over my body / Remind me who I used to be” What a beautiful way to describe the hell that is NSOP and entering college! You don’t know who you are or who these other people are either! Yes, I still mourn who I used to be. But I especially did during that period of time.

“American Teenager”: Self-explanatory. America is so fucked. And I am just a teenage girl.

“A House in Nebraska”: Okay back to my homesickness from the first month of school. “I feel so alone, so alone out here.” How veryyy college! I was PRAYING for that house in Nebraska! Or, in my case, suburban Massachusetts. “And we still call home that house in Nebraska,” but now we also call home that little dorm room in NYC! We pull through!

“Western Nights”: Not going to lie, I don’t listen to this song as much as others on the album. The song itself also depicts an abusive relationship, so I don’t feel it’s appropriate to relate to the Barnumbia experience. That’s all!

“Family Tree”: A much darker version of “Family Tree (Intro),” and gorgeous at that. “I’m just a child but I’m not above violence,” oh yeah same. That’s so how I feel when I see some of the work assigned to me this semester, because once again I am just a teenage girl; why should I have to write a 10 page essay?

“Hard Times”: No, not by Paramore. Much sadder. “Nine going on eighteen” ??!?!??!?!?!??! Are you kidding. Are you kidding. How I feel every day. Why am I not still a child running around jumping in leaf piles and hanging out with my mommy. Like are you joking. Oh my god. So good.

“Thoroughfare”: HIIII best song on the album! This nine-minute ballad about a drive through the West is the best thing to have ever graced this earth. How does this have to do with my semester? Ummm because it’s the perfect subway ride song. Nine minutes? I can listen to the whole thing when I’m coming back from doctor’s appointments at the 168th St. station. And the lyricism? Perfect. The story? Oh don’t get me started. It also reminds me so much of the movie Bones and All—unrelated but a fantastic film. I just love this song.

“Gibson Girl”: When Ethel said, “And if you hate me / Please don’t tell me,” I agreed. Don’t. I am too sensitive for that.

“Ptolemaea”: Just…the guttural scream. All of us during finals week. Literally.

“August Underground”: Beautiful acoustic song! Very calming but a bit eery—so good to listen to when you want to get your work done fast. Otherwise, who knows what might be coming after you.

“Televangelism”: Basically the same as above, just a lovely instrumental song. I love an album with an instrumental break.

“Sun Bleached Flies”: Sun. Bleached. Flies. Oh my goodness this SONG. This is what lyricism IS. Like I cannot describe enough how AHHH this song is! I want to scream it’s so good. I also feel that it wraps up the album in the way I am wrapping up the semester—a little depressed and burnt out but still going and with love in my heart!

“Strangers”: And we end the album back with the preacher from the beginning. The story of the album goes that the character of Ethel Cain has now died, and has been cannibalized by her lover. She calls out the last lines, “Mama just know that I love you / And I’ll see you when you get here.” And then the album ends, just as my semester ends with me feeling like I have been chewed up and spit out by my academics, but at least I get to see my mom in two days! I apologize for the sad vibe of this album and its reliability, but sometimes that’s just how life goes. I promise I actually do love it here and loved this semester, but this album really was there for me when I was down. Because at least I wasn’t getting eaten alive in the West, I was just writing a billion papers in New York.

Isa RingswaldEgan

Milk & Kisses, Cocteau Twins

A very good album. Nice classic Cocteau Twins floatiness, that sort of blurry with a clear center sound, almost like you’re listening to the way a candle flame looks, with the blurry clarity of the fire and the dark wick center. It’s an underrated album of theirs I think. As much as I do absolutely love Heaven or Las Vegas and Blue Bell Knoll, they have such a massive discography with so much good stuff to appreciate, Victorialand being another favorite. I think since it was their last, they were such experienced musicians by that point and had really solidified their sound which you can absolutely hear in the whole album. They’re one of those bands that I’ve realized I think are way more famous than they actually are, probably because my dad listens to them, so I’ve been listening to their stuff pretty much since birth. To me they are as popular as Taylor Swift. Milk and Kisses is an incredibly versatile album, you can seriously listen to it in pretty much any context both those which need background and dedicated listening. Standouts for me are “Serpentskirt,” “Violaine,” and “Calfskin,” because, and I really don’t know how to say this in a better way…they sound nice? The first three notes of “Serpentskirt” are so nice and reverberate-y, and they all just sound like a mix of emotions that I can’t find words for. I guess all Cocteau Twins music is like that, and in many ways it’s sort of nice to feel and hear and think about things that haven’t been discussed at enough of a length to have been named yet. “Tishbite” is also really good. I’ve been nursing this album this semester possibly because I feel it’s one of their nonsensical ones—there’s not much to make out in the way of lyrics—so it’s really good for both active listening and ambient music, unlike Heaven or Las Vegas that has enough intelligible lyrics that it is best actively listened to. Anyways, love Milk and Kisses, love the Cocteau Twins, loving life right now. Go give it a listen.

Viviana Pereyó

The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We, Mitski

Mitski’s newest album, with its title being inspired by a joke she once made about state road signs and the famous “My Love Mine All Mine” being created while she was singing to her groceries, holding the bags on her way home from the supermarket, is what she describes as her most “American” album. “Bug Like an Angel,” the first song released on the album, tells the story of an alcoholic who looks up at a fly at the bottom of their drinking glass as they raise the cup to the sky—mistaking it for an angel instead. Throughout the album, Mitski uses a variety of metaphors and narratives filled with the good and the bad and everything that exists between the cracks of love—love for a partner, for music, for a friend, for the self, for the mind, for the soul, or the absence of it. In “The Deal,” she trades away her soul which she represents as a songbird, calling back to her struggle as a musical artist and her simultaneous need for it in her song “Working For the Knife” from her previous album Laurel Hell. In “My Love Mine All Mine,” she reflects on how because of the materiality of everything around her, the one thing she can always keep with her is her love. While reflecting on the song on her YouTube channel, she says, “To love is the best thing I ever did in my life, better than any song I’ve ever written, better than any achievement by far, to love is truly the best and most beautiful thing I ever did.” Despite the album’s release being early in the semester, with 101 plays “My Love Mine All Mine” was one play away from being my top song of the year. This album helped me reflect on the love in my life, messy and overflowing as it is, and have it be something that brings me comfort instead of embarrassment. To have so much love and care for everything around you is something beautiful, something that is always yours, even as it spills onto other people.

Lucia Towne

The Good Witch, Maisie Peters

Starting my sophomore year off with some messy female rage. Released on June 23 of this year, The Good Witch is Peters’ second studio album. Prior to this I had only heard a few of her major hits and liked them okay. But this album and its multitudes have been blasting through my headphones since September. The Good Witch, as an album, is a masterclass on sticking to the theme! Every song deals with the scattered anger and hurt that comes with being a young woman. She oscillates between the belief that she is an unbeatable entity and just pure insecurity. So real, Maisie! I mean, in “Coming of Age” she sings her confidence with, “Baby, I am The Iliad, of course you couldn’t read me.” Then, in the very next song on the album, “Watch,” she does a full 180, saying, “Nobody actually happy and healthy has ever felt so desperate to prove it”. Although The Good Witch is full of heartbreak, insecurity, and confusion, it never feels final. Part of the album’s power is in the thought that each of those emotions are fleeting, but that doesn’t take away from their weight. Ephemerality is the theme and both Maisie and I are sticking to it, at least for a semester.

Maxwell Lurken Tvrdik

Next of Cat, 1000s of Cats

Released on August 20 of this year, Next of Cat made it to 6th on my 2023 most-listened-to albums with 29 plays in just about two months. I don’t speak Japanese, but I do know great music, and this is an unmissable album. I implore you to give it a chance, if not for me, then for the wonderful artists behind the album. Spare just 30 minutes of your time, regardless of what languages you speak. I often dreamed of my own return home while listening to 帰り道, anticipating the change of pace and relations through the emotions of the song. Early in the semester, in my darkest times of loss, I turned to 消えない家 and 友達 to both reminisce and celebrate the life of someone I miss very dearly. さくら tells a story of sakura and strawberries that anyone would be lucky to be a part of, and you can with the use of your imagination! The album’s final song breaks my heart every time I hear it, leaving me wishing for opportunity and hope in the face of great frustration. You may not have heard of 1000s of Cats before today, but now that you have, make sure to give them a mindful listen. A passionate confluence of rock and punk synonymous with the presence of thousands of cats: warm, concentrated, and masterful. Every song features a magnificent guitar riff and drum line that makes you want to dance even when there are tears pouring from your eyes.

Sam Mezrich

Hounds of Love, Kate Bush

We first saw this album’s popularity skyrocket with the release of Stranger Things 4. Honestly, not the best season of the show (they can never top season 3, hot take). However, the inclusion of “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)” as a thematic song throughout the season changed my high school junior brain forever. Since then, it has amassed over a million streams, every one deserved. Starting my freshman year of college was terrifying, and I turned to Kate to save me, just as she saved Max from Vecna. One of the standout tracks on the album is the titular track, “Hounds of Love.” Hearing Kate Bush bark in my ears is always a great experience. My personal favorite track is “Jig of Life,” a prime example of the violin element that appears throughout the album. Other standout tracks include “Cloudbusting” (“I just know that something good is gonna happen!”) and of course “Running Up That Hill.” The last 20 seconds of that song are the best, and I wish I could just listen to those 20 seconds over and over again. A big reason this album defined my semester was the emphasis on sleep that it carries. From “And Dream Of Sheep” (“Let me sleep / And dream of sheep”) (something that did not happen for me very often) to “Waking The Witch” (a song that features like 20 different people telling you to wake up), Hounds of Love captures the brutal sleep-wake cycle that we are trapped in as humans, and more specifically, as college students. Featuring some incredible and truly weird songs, Hounds of Love leaves no emotion uncaptured.

Honorable Mentions:

Emma Burris: In Rainbows, Radiohead; The Will to Death, John Frusciante; Dowland: Complete Lute Works, Vol. 1, John Dowland played by Paul O’Dette; Slowdive’s entire discography.

Gina Brown: Can’t Buy A Thrill, Steely Dan; Mishima, Philip Glass; RACE, Alex G.

Jack Rado: Twin Fantasy, Car Seat Headrest; Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2023 Broadway Cast Recording).

Jessica Tsang: The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess, Chappell Roan; In the End It Always Does, The Japanese House.

Alison Hog: 1989 (Taylor’s Version), Taylor Swift.

Isa RingswaldEgan: Mezzanine, Massive Attack; Unreal Unearth, Hozier; Hive Mind, The Internet.

Maxwell Lurken Tvrdik: Irresistible Bliss, Soul Coughing; P-POP-HIGH SCHOOL, Peelander-Z; Watermelon Summer; Annabelle Chairlegs.

Sam Mezrich: Pure Heroine, Lorde.

Sophie Conrad: Piggy, Peter McPoland.

Grace Novarr: The Rise and Fall of a Midwestern Princess, Chappell Roan.

Cover Photo via Bwog Staffer Ara Kim.