Opinion: the rise of lower-case song titles

In the past year or so I’ve noticed a common theme among recent album releases. Artists don’t feel so grammatically restricted in their track listings. Instead, many artists are adopting this haphazard combination of lower case and upper case song and album titles. But what does it all mean? What does it add to the song or impact of the overall album? There has to be some purpose for it, and I will be investigating this weird phenomenon.

I noticed my first lower case usage in the title of Post Malone’s 2018 release beerbongs & bentleys and as I write that my computer is begging me to correct it to capital letters. Surprisingly the tracks are capitalized as usual -except for the single rockstar – so how can we make sense of this? I guess my English Lit grad brain is a little triggered by it, but I suppose there’s no concrete rule that forces you to use the appropriate grammar. I guess it’s an unspoken rule we’re all taught to follow. I’m intrigued by the use of it as an addition to the music, it gives a softer edge to the title and therefore a softer edge to the song. In Malone’s case, there’s an excellent use of alliteration in the title, and I guess there’s something about ‘Beerbongs’ being a little too formal as opposed to ‘beerbongs.’ Perhaps a little rebellious as well.

I can’t forget the obvious ‘aesthetic’ appeal of having lower cases all over your album. Let’s look at Ariana Grande’s latest albums Sweetener and thank u, next where each track is either all lower case or upper case. This gives a playful element to her style; there’s an attitude to ‘u’ like it’s a quick text to an ex that won’t quit bothering you. It’s also encompassed Taylor Swift’s surprise quarantine LP folklore where every song adopts the lowercase look. There’s not a lot written about this phenomenon which has taken over recent releases, and I can’t tell whether that’s because it’s an apparent stylistic decision. However, I can’t help but think it’s got to be more than that, Swift’s new album is filled with heart-wrenching poetic stories and soft vocals that are centred over provided an emotional listening experience. What accompanies is gentle visuals of her parading around a deep wood, childlike and hopeful, so the natural pairing of this would be lowercase letters.

An article posted by Quartz in 2019 takes the unconventional formatting on music to be “a manifestation of artists growing up in the texting and social media era.” and I guess I agree. Yet, I do believe that’s a bit of a generalization and leads to recent news about how young people are intimidated by traditional punctuation. To me, that comes across as trying to paint young people as somehow incompetent because they could be so intimidated by standard grammar. Instead, what I think the article shows is that young people are interpreting language differently, and standard punctuation or traditional grammar usage holds an entirely different meaning. Like Quartz implies, this is where a rise of instant messaging, streaming, and social media play a part. When the primary form of communication is non-verbal, every capital or full stop counts. Everything used has a meaning and a purpose in the modern age, so when artists decide to title their album and tracks in a cluster of capitals and lower case, there’s a narrative behind that.

There’s a consideration of how it will appear listed on Spotify, or shared on a fan’s social media platform. I have to say that I do like the aesthetic of it, it feels modern and fitting for the age of streaming and the decline of physical records (can you name the last time you bought a CD?) It’s a trend that’s dominating pop music at the moment, but who knows; it could be the new normal across all styles.

First Exposure: Hypersonic Missiles by Sam Fender

I feel like I say this before every ‘First Exposure’ post, but I genuinely am late to the party with this one. Sam Fender came through with his debut album ‘Hypersonic Missiles’ in September 2019 after a steady growth of popularity since 2017.

<https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hypersonic-Missiles-Sam-Fender/dp/B07MG9JPDS>

I first heard of Sam Fender after the drop of his single ‘Dead Boys’ in 2018. The quite ground-breaking track dealt with a mostly unspoken issue. Speaking on the track, Fender explains “It’s [the song] raised an conversation and I realised how much of a present issue it is.” Moving from this, Fender has only gotten more accessible and even during a global pandemic, he trial-blazes as one of the first artists to play a “socially distant” gig.

I thought it was about time that I give his debut work a worthy listen to see what the hype is about. What is clear is Fender’s love for Bruce Springsteen, you only have to google both musicians to see the covers he’s done of The Boss. Listening to this album, Fender has channelled the working-class narrative that Springsteen does so well but making it modern. The whole of ‘White Privilege’ is a dig at the state of 21st Century Great Britain, and I’ve got to love the line “Don’t wanna hear about Brexit, them old c***ts fucked up our exit.”

I would describe this ability as being channelled with angry hope. There’s a real roller coaster of tempo flowing throughout, we begin the quick ascent through tracks like ‘Hypersonic Missiles’ and ‘Borders’ to then mellow out for ‘Dead Boys’ and ‘You’re Not The Only One’ to once again start picking up again for The Cure inspired ‘That Sound.’

It’s certainly not a boring album; Fender has compiled an impressive tracklist that provides so much variety and odes to musicians that came before him. When Fender refers to this album as “mirroring a lot of the stuff that I was listening to when I was a teenager…” and these references are apparent.

What’s impressive is how powerful Fender’s voice comes across, especially on the chorus of ‘Call Me Lover’ where he gives me Hozier vibes with his belting baritone. I would recommend this album 100%, the songs are straightforward and impactful, and I’ve found myself adding tracks like ‘Will We Talk?’ and ‘Saturday’ to my playlists.

First Exposure: Magdalene by FKA Twigs

FKA Twigs is a name that I’ve heard floating around for a while and the cover of her first album LP1, released 2014, dominated indie instagram and tumblr. Now after noticing the buzzing excitement for her latest album MAGDALENE, released late 2019, I wanted to begin to understand what makes Tahliah Barnett so enchanting.

<https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/fka-twigs-magdalene/>

After seeing the music video for ‘cellophane’ where Barnett provides an emotional award-nominated performance, I became interested in learning more about her latest project. I would argue that knowing only ‘cellophane’ sets you up for a false impression for the LP. I was expecting the rest of the songs to have that same melancholy enchantment but what comes before this closing track is a whirlwind of strong vocals and impressive production that comes before.

MAGDALENE arrives at a time where FKA Twigs has publicly dealt with a break up from actor Robert Pattinson and undergoing surgery to remove fibriod growths from her uterus. Knowing this backdrop and the mindset that Twigs must have been in, MAGDALENE comes fueled by pain and recovery. The LP begins with ‘thousand eyes,’ an anxious ballad surrounding the price of being in the public eye. The image of waking ‘a thousand eyes’ is daunting, and Twigs heightens this through the growing thump of bass and lyrical repetition that works as an evoking chant to drift us off into the next track. Next is ‘home with you,’ exploring the fragile balance between looking after yourself and being there for your loved ones. Barnett morphs her voice into short breaths of raspy tones that echo over. The first track to mention Mary Magdalene who would “never have let her loved ones down”, Magdalene being quite a polarising figure in religious history; sometimes known as being a prostitute and then a celebrate nun or passive helpmeet. Barnett explains that Magdalene represents just one of the many women in history expected to provide so much ’emotional labour’ to everyone. Through the whispers of the verses, we come to a Kate Bush-esque vocal pitch that makes the track feel like we are experiencing two different points of view. The track even seems to reference Bush with, “I’d be running down the hill.” closing on that modern struggle of constantly questioning how people are feeling around you.

Next is the most sonically impressive on the album, ‘sad day’, where heavy synth beats repeat throughout to help build up emotion. There’s no denying that Barnett’s vocal manipulation really adds to the overall feel of this track. It’s quite easy to link her lyrics to her breakup where she stated to NME (about heartbreak): ” I never thought that my body could stop working to the point that I couldn’t express myself physically in the ways that I have always loved and found so much solace in.” Yet, the lyrics are never pointing the blame on someone else, Barnett openly confesses to the areas that she fails in, “You’re running, I tried to make it work before, You’re running, I made you sad before.” I enjoy the experimentation in ‘sad day’ it’s one of my favourites from this album.

‘Holy Terrain’ is a surprising entry on the LP, featuring rapper Future (the only feature on the album) the production is chaotic on this track, making you feel swept up in a storm. I’m not sure if I like the rapper feature, it doesn’t seem like something required. Next is the self-titled track ‘mary magdalene’ beginning with wind chimes and delving into that religious and historical influence of women detailing “a woman’s time to embrace, she must put herself first.”

Pitchfork, who rated this LP a 9.4, applaud the “virility and self-preservation” of ‘fallen alien’ where Barnett shows her feisty fighting side through haunting production and frictive vocals. A definite highlight on this album for its explosion into high pitched chorus making me feel like I’m heading into a battle. The tempo lessens dramatically on ‘mirrored heart’ where Barnett slurs through the words over a drunken beat. Yet, the volume is continually extending and retracting like waves crashing a shoreline; it’s really great to experience through waves.

As we approach the end of the LP, a melancholy tone sets in and the confidence that have dripped it way through a lot of the album is bled dry. ‘mirrored heart’ repeats the lyrics “and for the lovers who found a mirrored hear, they just remind me I’m without you.” Transitioning into the floaty light of ‘daybed’ where Barnett lists her surroundings and emotions to reflect the loss she feels for her partner. A bleak description of a lonely day spent watching daytime TV and desperately trying to feel something.

As we know, ‘cellophane’ closes this album, a ballad of cries and sorrowful piano. There’s a reason why everyone still discusses this track, Barnett stretches her vocals to a Björk-like symphony. We are then abruptly cut off, and the record goes silent, leaving us with emptiness and reflection on this sonic journey which I believe is purposeful. Barnett has mimicked a desperate feeling of holding onto a memory/feeling that has passed, “all wrapped in cellophane.”

I must admit there were moments of confusion when visiting this album the first time. The album confused me, and I couldn’t entirely invest all my energy into it. However, once I stopped being lazy and distracted, I could really feel how powerful FKA Twigs presence is in the music industry. There’s no denying a true appreciation for her sound and visuals. We know to be grateful that Barnett has allowed us into this open diary of vulnerability.