What made albums notable in 2021? Music that connects people.
Although music fans may have been deprived of attending concerts for a while, they’re reaping an unexpected benefit: Many artists used the unplanned downtime to compose new material.
Since March of last year, some musicians have been inspired to look outward and write about the collective human experience.
Why We Wrote This
How did a pandemic year affect new music? Standout albums from 2021 have forged a heart-to-heart connection that’s lifted up artists and listeners alike.
Others haven’t directly addressed the pandemic on new albums, but the period of confinement amplified their yearning for connection.
On many of 2021’s standout releases, it felt as if artists and listeners were reaching out to each other to share loss and love. The Monitor’s list of notable music ranges from the folksy offerings of duo Alison Krauss and Robert Plant to the Jimi Hendrix-like sound of African guitarist and activist Mdou Moctar.
In 2021, musicians emerged from pandemic hibernation in studios, basements, and bedrooms. Scrambling to mount tours, artists snapped up calendar dates at reopened music venues like land during the gold rush.
Although music fans may have been deprived of attending concerts during lockdown, they’re reaping an unexpected benefit: Many musicians used the unplanned downtime to compose new material. Since March of last year, some artists have been inspired to look outward and write about the collective human experience. Other musicians haven’t directly addressed the pandemic on new albums, but the period of confinement amplified their yearning for connection. On many of 2021’s best releases, it felt as if artists and listeners were reaching out to each other to share loss and love.
When the pandemic upended Sting’s plans, for example, the songwriter resolved to go into the studio each day at 10 a.m. (For a rock star, that’s an unearthly hour to punch the clock.) He wrote “The Bridge,” his best album in years. Its captivating flagship single, “Rushing Water,” is about people in transition. Sting recently told Billboard that the connective thread running through the album was that “all the characters were looking for a bridge to the future that was somewhere different, somewhere safer, somewhere happier. And I think the whole planet is looking for a bridge at the moment. I am. Everyone is.”
Why We Wrote This
How did a pandemic year affect new music? Standout albums from 2021 have forged a heart-to-heart connection that’s lifted up artists and listeners alike.
Singer-songwriter Nick Cave discovered that, sometimes, one person has to build a bridge by extending a helping hand. On his website, he shares the back story of befriending a painter and sculptor named Thomas Houseago in late 2019. Soon after, Mr. Cave explains, Mr. Houseago had a breakdown and “could no longer find it in himself to make art.”
It was the start of the pandemic and, like many songwriters, Mr. Cave was struggling to write lyrics. His head was filled with “dread and uncertainty.” So he made a deal with his friend: Paint me a picture and I’ll write you a song.
“I felt that this challenge might give him the impetus to create something – I have found that sometimes it can be helpful to remove oneself from the creative process, and do work in the service of others,” Mr. Cave wrote. “I personally felt I could write a song for my friend Thomas, even if I couldn’t write one for myself.”
The arrangement broke the creative stasis in both men. Mr. Cave says Mr. Houseago’s outpouring of paintings is a testament to the “miraculous healing power of art.” Mr. Cave’s consequent 2021 album, created with longtime collaborator Warren Ellis, utilizes electronic instruments and chamber orchestration to chiaroscuro effect. “Carnage” is occasionally as dark as the singer’s suits. His barking baritone can veer from menace to playfully profane wit. But mostly the songs are tender and gentle with lyrics that locate compassion and beauty in a broken world.
The fifth studio album by The War on Drugs is also about bridging disconnection. On “I Don’t Live Here Anymore,” the songs are often about restless, blue-collar loners who yearn to return home to find redemption and love. The production harks back to the 1980s – touchstones include Don Henley and Phil Collins – but oblique guitar lines offer an earthy counterbalance to the lush keyboards. These are songs that gallop like Pegasus until they take flight. Case in point: The title track, built on a steady backbeat you could set a metronome to, has an ascending chorus sung by vocalists Jess Wolfe and Holly Laessig of the group Lucius. Adam Granduciel, frontman for The War on Drugs, told the Seattle public radio station KEXP in October that the pandemic influenced the tenor of his songs.
“There was a concept of trying to make something that felt good, you know, as hard as it was,” he said, later adding, “Musically, it was always about trying to make it pretty uplifting.”
Mdou Moctar’s “Afrique Victime” bridges Western and African music. When the guitarist from Niger was unable to tour during the pandemic, he invited his American bassist and producer, Mikey Coltun, to join him in his nation’s capital. They filmed a documentary about the dangers of playing live music in the country for fear of reprisals by the Islamist militant group Boko Haram. “Afrique Victime” is rooted in Tuareg desert blues with its trancelike repetition in hand-clapped rhythms and call-and-response vocals sung in Tamasheq. But Mr. Moctar breaks from traditional sounds with the ferocious attack of his feedback-soaked guitar. His spiraling guitar arpeggios have been compared to those of Jimi Hendrix. Mr. Moctar doesn’t just sing about issues such as women’s rights, he takes action.
“Every time I’ve managed to do an album, I build a well,” he told Dazed in May. “Access to water is an ongoing problem in Niger, so at the moment I’m travelling around villages and trying to assist people. I want to see how women are living locally, to facilitate improvements in healthcare and shift to becoming a father figure in my family.”
Just before the pandemic, two old friends from both sides of the Atlantic reached out to each other. British rocker Robert Plant and American singer Alison Krauss convened in Nashville, Tennessee, to record “Raise the Roof,” the follow-up to their 2007 blockbuster, “Raising Sand.” The pair’s Americana sound is rooted in country and bluegrass and New Orleans rhythm and blues. But this time, the collection of cover versions includes two folk songs – “Go Your Way” by Anne Briggs and “It Don’t Bother Me” by the late Bert Jansch – from Mr. Plant’s home country. Sometimes the duo both sing lead. At other times, one singer steps to the fore while the other sings backup. Ms. Krauss delivers a standout aching vocal on a brooding reinvention of the Everly Brothers song “The Price of Love.” “High and Lonesome,” the album’s sole original composition, showcases Mr. Plant’s deft rhythmic phrasing. The duo’s vocal blend is sheer alchemy. “Raise the Roof” is the rare sequel that’s at least equal to, if not better than, its predecessor.
When Adele released the biggest-selling album of 2021, it felt as if she needed us as much as we needed her. “30” is the long-awaited successor to her earlier albums “19,” “21,” and “25.” It’s a divorce record. The heartbreak piano ballad “Easy on Me,” which has more than 370 million streams on Spotify as of the beginning of December, probably boosted tissue sales. “My Little Love” includes candid audio of Adele sobbing and talking to her young son about the split. It’s a relief when the next track, “Cry Your Heart Out,” changes
pace with a skip in its step and doo-wop female backing vocals. On the glossy R&B stomper “Oh My God,” she gets giddy about a new romance, her voice bobbing and weaving in between the beat.
The return of the beloved British singer offers comfort to listeners at the end of what has been, for many, a difficult year. Similarly, Adele was overcome with emotion at the audience’s response in a recent live televised concert in the United Kingdom. “30” exemplified how 2021’s best music forged a heart-to-heart connection that lifted up artists and listeners alike.
