Concept Albums, Distilled
why the whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and also why I need to get a record player
My rock star dad first introduced me to the concept of a concept album when I was in elementary school, and I remember feeling convinced every album had to be a concept album in order to be good.
Concept albums made an album seem a lot more like an art form, like there was more thought put into creating a complete work than just trying to make a few hits. “Well, is it a concept album?” I’d ask anyone who recommended a new album. The answer was usually no. I’d wave my hand in dismissal. “Meh.” Why listen to a run-of-the-mill album when it can be a whole concept?
There’s no hard-and-fast definition of a concept album. It ranges from songs loosely tied together by one mood or theme (e.g. dealing with a breakup, like Ariana Grande’s Thank U Next), to the ridiculously elaborate musical-like storylines with alter-ego characters and world-building that rivals Star Wars.
I personally think a concept album should at least have a clear narrative arc, taking you on a journey when you listen to it from start to finish. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy, but it also can’t just be a Christmas compilation album.
The first concept albums as we think of them today were rock albums released in the 60s and 70s: Pink Floyd’s The Wall, The Who’s Tommy, David Bowie’s The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, Frank Zappa’s Joe’s Garage, Styx’s Kilroy Was Here. These are the classic rock operas with dramatic tales of antiheroes and pinball wizards and apocalyptic disasters, some of which even came with their own feature films. (Side note: I can name at least four albums that involve the storyline of a government outlawing music. Musicians love this theme).
By the time middle school rolled around, I loved listening to the classics, but I wanted to discover some new material. The problem was, the classics set the bar pretty high for a good concept. How would I find contemporary artists who were still creating stories as ambitious as, say, a character who becomes disillusioned with the corrupt society of his time and reluctantly becomes involved with a revolutionary group as an assassin of political leaders? (Listen to Queensrÿche’s Operation: Mindcrime).
At this point, I was in the post-record store, pre-Spotify heyday of iTunes, where you could buy single tracks instead of listening to an entire album start to finish. It was a dark time. Everyone was focused on Rihanna’s “Umbrella” (ella-ella-ay-ay-ay). For a while it seemed hard to find any full albums worth listening to from start to finish, with a true story to tell.
But I was in luck, because the early-aughts saw a renaissance of great concept albums that bravely battled the popularity of the one-hit wonders on the iTunes chart. Better yet, they spanned genres, from punk rock, to hip hop, to electronic dance.
A brief timeline of my favorite concept albums in order of discovery:
The first one that really made an impression on me was My Chemical Romance’s The Black Parade (2006). The music video for “Welcome to the Black Parade” (aka the Bohemian Rhapsody of the 2000s) was the most phenomenally over-the-top creation I’d ever seen: The band in their emo marching band outfits as The Black Parade Band, screaming their lungs out on a parade float. It’s remembered fondly by everyone who was in their pre-teens and needed someone like MCR to tell them it’s okay to feel angry and dramatic.
Said one recent YouTube comment on the video: “The people that dislike this song should get a COVID test done, because one of the major symptoms is no taste.”
Then there was Lupe Fiasco’s The Cool (2007), in which a drug dealer is murdered and comes back as a zombie. Way more interesting of a plot than other hip-hop records of the time.
There was Kid Cudi’s Man on the Moon (2009), which is Pink Floyd’s The Wall for my generation.
Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs (2010), which could possibly be the reason I have a fear of living in suburbs to this day. There was this whole song about being stuck in the suburban sprawl:
'Cause on the surface the city lights shine
They're calling at me, come and find your kind
Sometimes I wonder if the world's so small
That we can never get away from the sprawl
Living in the sprawl
Dead shopping malls rise like mountains beyond mountains…
Daft Punk’s Discovery was released in 2001, but I didn’t fully appreciate it as a concept until I realized they had released an accompanying animated feature film called Interstella 5555: The 5tory of the 5ecret 5tar 5ystem, which uses the entire album as the soundtrack.
And then of course there’s Muse, which can’t seem to create an album without it being a concept album and I love them for it.
Today it feels like there are more concept albums than ever, and I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that there are new visual mediums to work with and streaming platforms to watch. Beyoncé is now known for her visual concept albums like Lemonade, which I first watched on YouTube. Muse created an entire film that seamlessly combined a classic sci-fi movie plot with live concert footage for Simulation Theory, available on Amazon Prime.
And the most interesting trend of all: Vinyl sales are on the rise, and digital sales are declining. We can watch and listen to music for free (or a subscription), but we are also still buying and appreciating albums the way they are meant to be appreciated: As a record.
Even in an era of disposable music that doesn’t live in physical copies, artists are still creating brilliant concept albums, and fans are still listening.
I still appreciate a regular old album. Not everything has to be a grand concept with a sci-fi feature film. I’ve listened to Panic! At the Disco’s A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out a gazillion times, and the only common theme is that most of the song titles are inside jokes. I also very much enjoy every Britney Spears single ever released.
But in the same way art museums display collections, and fashion designers create themed runway shows, there’s something about a bigger story and a unified theme that’s just so much more fun.
Got any good recommendations?
Deeper reading:
34th Street: The Rise of the Concept Album: How the concept album is thriving in the age of the single
Pitchfork: Vinyl Record Sales Increased Almost 30% in 2020, RIAA Says
Hop take: Beer of the week
Joyride Double Bogey Dortmunder Lager
Yesterday we went fly fishing, and it turned out to be a beautiful day. Much like skiing, the best part of fishing was grabbing beer afterwards. We stopped at Trailhead Taphouse in Golden and Chris ordered the Dortmunder because it sounded German. The bet paid off: It was crisp and refreshing, but more flavorful than you would expect from a light lager.
A Dortmunder is a style of lager. Here’s a good description from Hop Culture: “Slightly maltier and a deeper gold than the Pilsners brewed in nearby Pils, the Dortmunder was a lager made for 19th century German industrial workers. High levels of sulfate in the region’s water gave the beer a distinct sulfur flavor that balanced with the bitterness from the hops. Named after its city of origin, Dortmund, the Dortmunder lager was never less than 5 percent ABV: light enough to quench a coal miner’s thirst, but hearty enough to reward him for a long day of manual labor.”
Sounds like the perfect beer after a hard day’s work fishing.
It’s a rainy day here, which makes it easier to hit pause and do some writing. Therefore, you got a newsletter! I’ll see you soon for the next one, rain or shine.
Cheers,
Alex
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