Derek Nielsen’s Best Albums of 2021

As a child of the ’90s myself, I am bound to the notion that the decade most detrimental to my personal development didn’t officially start until 1991.  Ergo, the year 1990 was still officially part of the ’80s. This is not a hot take. These are the rules, according to the standard Gregorian calendar.

This notion is clearly reflected in the music that was released that year. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, REM, My Bloody Valentine,  even Red Hot Chili Peppers all dropped their era-defining releases in 1991, thus turning the tides of the entire music industry forever after. Sonically, these albums are inarguably the ones we associate with this (admittedly biased) wonderful moment in history, and will forever remain crystallized in the hearts of a jaded and irony-poisoned generation.

The point I’m circling around to is that we can officially leave 2020 in the previous decade. That shitty year that contained 366 days of waking nightmare is ancient history. And while I could try and speculate on how the pandemic affected artists and the industry as a whole, I’m so fucking bored talking about that. That conversation is busted. Talking to musicians about how the pandemic affected them is like dissecting a frog in biology class—nobody learns anything, and the frog dies.

Twenty-twenty-one is the beginning of this new decade and we are now officially one year deep into the roaring ’20s, so act accordingly folks. Be safe. Be healthy. But most important of all, be yourselves. Be the most authentic, fearless, cringe, painful version of yourself. In the immortal words of Rancid, life won’t wait. 

Honorable Mentions

Drug Church- Tawny (Pure Noise Records)

Illuminati Hotties – Let Me Do One More (Hopeless Records Inc)

Smolder Glow- Smolder Glow – (Stereovine Records)

EPs/ Singles/Reissues

Spiritual Cramp – Here Comes More Bad News (Self-released)World Smasher – Big Head (Forever Never Ends Records) 

Slow Pulp – Shadow (Winspear) 

Propagandhi – Today’s Empires, Tomorrow’s Ashes (Fat Wreck Chords)

LPs

1. Cloud Nothings – The Shadow I Remember (Carpark Records)

   Cloud Nothings are damn good at writing songs. Their earworm melodies are always delivered with the scrappy energy of early Blink-182- if Blink-182 were art majors and grew up shoveling snow during the winter. The Shadow I Remember doesn’t do anything to reinvent the wheel. It simply hits that sweet spot between their aggressive early releases and the piano-driven introspection of Life Without Sound; a perfect middle-ground for us burnt out, elder millennials still struggling (and failing) to navigate adulthood.

2. Gojira- Fortitude – (Roadrunner Records) 

   Gojira are one of the few metal bands out there that actually scared me the first time I heard them, and I think I figured out why. Upon my millionth viewing of Home Alone this Christmas, the scene where Kevin goes down into the basement scared the crap of me as a kid, especially when the furnace comes alive and growls at Kevin. Subconsciously that growl has always haunted me and Duplantier still has the ability to channel childhood terror in a way that hits different than anyone else in the metal genre.

3. The Chisel – Retaliation – (La Vida Es Un Mus Discos)
   Having a figure of authority demand I go listen to a new album is a good way to get me into a band. Now comfortably in my 30s, I don’t get as much these days, so when my editor reprimanded me every time she put on Retaliation, and I would ask naively who is this? She would look at me the same way the older high school kids would look at me when they would play Weezer or The Violent Femmes. Rightfully so, this record is an earnest dose of hardcore punk with oi! semenants. I blame this album for making my car dashboard covered in spit marks from shouting along.

4. Deafheaven – Infinite Granite (Sargent House Records)

   Are they shoegaze? Are they metal? Where are the blast-beats? If you’re still asking these questions about Deafheaven in 2021, then you are missing the point. Yes, the path from heavy music to shoegaze has been well-paved to the point of cliche. But when that first chorus on the album’s opening song “Shellstar” hits, it becomes glaringly obvious—this is what Deafheaven is supposed to sound like. While their previous releases might be heavier,  Infinite Granite is the first album where they feel truly massive—like a supernova exploding across the universe.

5. Amyl and the Sniffers – Comfort To Me – (ATO Records, LLC)

   This band rules. While I appreciate deep and introspective lyrics as much as the next music journalist, there’s something refreshing about a singer telling me exactly what they want with no room for discussion. Whether she’s telling you she’s hungry, pissed off or in love, vocalist Amy Taylor’s presence on Comfort To Me is so unencumbered, you’ll be able to feel the spit hit you in the face.

6. Turnstile – Glow On – (Roadrunner Records)
   It’s hard to think of an album that will end up defining 2021 as much as Glow On. Of course there are many other bands reshaping the hardcore genre in equally innovative ways, but nobody is making look as cool as Turnstile. Glow On occupies a volatile nexus of hardcore, hip-hop, skate culture, and visual art in a way that feels fluid and uncontrived. Listening to Glow On feels like arriving at the biggest party of the year, but the band emphasizes in the lyrics of the album’s pennultimate track “No Surprises”—You really gotta see it live to get it.

7. Idles –Crawler- (Partisan Records)

   I feel like I need a hot shower after I listen to this album, and this is a good thing. Like their previous releases, Crawler isn’t afraid to explore dark subject matter. But on songs like “When The Lights Come On” and “…The Beachland Ballroom,” the band matches vocalist Joe Talbot’s descent into the abyss. Crawler feels raw, unprocessed, and dangerous in a way that only punk rock can be.

8. Young Barons – Hella California (KMA Records)

   Surf rock is rad precisely because of its silliness.  For some, the genre conjures up images of dads in Hawaiian shirts covering Ventures tunes at your local craft beer fest. If that turns you off, that’s your trip homie, not mine.

   But the raddest shit is when some new jacks show up on the surf scene, crank their amps like they’re fucking Pennywise, and shred classics surf songs like they’re hotwiring and committing felony theft.And thus, we have The Young Barons. Based out the San Francisco Bay Area, the barely-post-adolescent trio’s debut album Hella California features nine covers that are probably older than their parents. Have these songs all been covered a thousand times before? Hell yeah, they have! Does it sound like they give a fuck? Naw bro! Get pitted.

9. Every Time I Die – Radical (Epitaph Records)

   Step aside rookies, this is how you hardcore. I don’t know how to describe this record in a way that won’t do it a disservice. This album fucks. It’s frenzied, violent, and completely unpredictable—but also incredibly vulnerable and honest. The third track on the record, entitled “Planet Shit,”  might be the most cathartically angry song I’ve heard all year, with a bridge centered around three simple words: “Fuck. You. Die.” Emphasis on die.

   Despite entering their fourth decade as a band, Every Time I Die are still angrier and lighter on their feet than bands half their age.

10. The War On Drugs – I Don’t Live Here Anymore (Atlantic Records)

    I know I framed this list around bands that are defining the sound of new era, and then put a blatantly retro-sounding band as number one, but you know what? Fuck it. Sure the band’s name is not great. Sure there’s a ton of nostalgia bait in their music. Sure singer/songwriter Adam Granduciel is leaning so far into Tom Petty-land, even Mad Hatter is telling him to calm down.  These are all valid(ish) criticisms.And yet, this band transcends all that bullshit. This album sounds absolutely huge, like there are dozens of instruments stacked into the sky—and yet, not a single note sounds random or out of place. Every guitar riff, every synth patch, every breath taken is purposeful and delivered with intent. It’s been said that the War On Drugs’ biggest fans are people who have experienced profound grief at some point in their life. I won’t go into my own personal experiences, but I also can’t name one person who hasn’t experienced trauma, grief, or profound sadness in the last few years. But we’re in a new era now, and even though it hurts to let go, in the words of Granduciel himself, “Sometimes forwards is the only way back.”