Top ten most disappointing albums of 2020

It’s easy to spot a bad album — with music so devoid of effort, or so enamored with how great it is that it forgets to be good at all, or so earnest that it falls into parody — that it’s hardly fun to pick one out. Most of us will never bother getting all the way through these albums, as the first five or ten minutes renders them completely un-listenable, and anyway, there’s nothing interesting or worth saying about a truly awful record, and the less time spent acknowledging its existence, the better.

In fact, there are worse things out there in the music world, one of those things being an album you really set your heart on loving, heard wonderful things about, or were hyped into a preconceived notion of what you were going to get only to be dead wrong. These disappointments linger far after they have stunned, leaving wounds that sting weeks later because they force us to fundamentally alter the way we have expected a new favorite to sound, or relied upon on an old standby to come through. It might be the way it signals a shift in that artist’s career, foreshadows the end, or hammers the final nail in a coffin you can no longer make excuses for. In the best-case scenario, these might just be growers, or albums that require a different mindset or life stage than the one you’re in. In the worst-case, they are just dead ends in and of themselves, catastrophically and forever irredeemable.

Here are ten albums that dashed my hopes the most this year, listed in chronological order. Will any of these be growers? Only time can tell.

Sakurako Ohara: Passion
(2020.02.05)

Sakurako Ohara’s career started out strong, with two solid albums of casual, mid-tempo J-pop jams in 2015 and 2016. In 2018, she released a slightly less solid, but still enjoyable album that has been followed up by this completely unenthusiastic, limp set of pop standards. With a greatest hits collection that seems to have drawn a line over the inspirational half of her music career, it’s hard to muster any enthusiasm for what looks to be a slow decline into formulaic obscurity.

LOONA: [#]
(2020.02.05)

[#] was the first comeback from one of the best K-pop roll outs in recent memory. The prolonged, dramatic reveal of members through solo singles and social media hype culminated in two mini-albums, and one collection that successfully illustrated and topped years of mystery, talent, and anticipation. But [#], and to a lesser extent, it’s sister EP [12:00], has the girl group following in the footsteps of many go-big-or-go-home groups choosing to compete directly with BLACKPINK rather than their own back catalog. Generic BLACKPINK is as boring as it sounds when ten other groups are trying the same thing, and robbed this group of the unique narrative arc we all deserved.

Sam Sparro: Boombox Eternal
(2020.02.21)

Boombox Eternal, sold as a love letter to 90’s new jack swing, missed a prime opportunity to be at the forefront of an as yet unexplored genre to rely on word of mouth rather than delivery. Weak hooks and lack of direction bog down this record with hints of what could have been, never delivering on its tantalizing promise. I wasn’t expecting Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, but when Hangin’ Tough-NKOTB surpasses your best intentions, it might be time to regroup. This could have been so good, and I hope this isn’t the last we’ve seen of the genre’s resurrection here in the West.

Red Velvet-IRENE & SEULGI: MONSTER
(2020.07.06)

My soft spot for SM Entertainment leads me to make a lot of excuses for the label’s choices, including questionable decisions regarding prime girl groups like f(x), or who gets awarded solo EPs, but even I can’t spin MONSTER into anything more than a musical placeholder, one that in the hindsight of emerging drama, throws the future of Red Velvet into even starker question. It would be a real shame if this the final impression we get of one of the best and most reliable things SM had going in many years.

Ayaka Sasaki: A-rin Assort
(2020.07.08)

Momoiro Clover Z-member Ayaka Sasaki is one of the first of the famed idol group to go solo, and expectations were big for a project lead by one of Japan’s most innovative and interesting idol groups. Unfortunately, A-rin Assort relies on torpid idol maxims for the bulk of its run time, never daring to lift the lid off of a human personality to reveal an iota of the person behind the persona. It’s idol oblivion done to death, rendering the point of a solo verklempt: from production to melody, there’s nothing here that wouldn’t be better served in the hands of Team Momoclo.

Summer Walker: Life on Earth EP
(2020.07.10)

At the beginning of the year, I couldn’t get enough of the type of slow, 90’s R&B-pop that was making the rounds from Kehlani to Tink’s Hopeless Romantic, to Summer Walker’s own full-length debut. Half a year removed, and several dozen more of these EPs and albums later, my warmth for the genre has cooled considerably. Perhaps it’s just timing that is working against Walker’s follow-up, but it takes more than B-side-quality material to stand out in one of the year’s now most over-exposed styles.

Ellie Goulding: Brightest Blue
(2020.07.17)

These are the last breaths I can muster over an artist once destined for mega-pop-music fame. Something tragic seems to have happened between the Max Martin-heavy Delirium of 2015, and the singles, collabs, and questionable turns of direction that has lead us to Brightest Blue, an album where more attention and detail seems to have been put into the physical packaging than the music itself. Even Joseph Kearns can’t raise this sunk ship.

Dua Lipa: Club Future Nostalgia
(2020.08.28)

Remix albums can bring old material into fresh light, or they can be self-indulgent marketing tools. I’m inclined toward the latter on this remixed take on the insta-classic Future Nostalgia, produced by The Blessed Madonna. The “club” portion of the title promises nothing already gained on the original, while the kitchen-sink mash-ups seem less curated than desperately frantic, relying less on a genuine vibe than on name-checks as impressive as Gen Hoshino, Jacques Lu Cont, and Madonna herself, and obscure, hip-crowd-approved samples designed less for dancing than status building. This could have been an actual nostalgia-inducing nod to 90s club music in the same aesthetic as Dua Lipa’s entire look in this promotional era, but for anything resembling music you an actually dance to, I’ll take the original.

Katy Perry: Smile
(2020.08.28)

It’s no surprise that the hype around Katy Perry this year has focused more on the 15th anniversary of Teenage Dream and the birth of her first child than on her first album in three years. As one of the biggest pop stars of her time, thanks in no small part to the success of Teenage Dream, it is vertigo-inducing to see how far and how fast Perry has lost the musical thread. I wouldn’t call Smile a horrible album, but it lacks almost everything I look for in an album from a pop superstar, not least of which is genuine enthusiasm for her material. I’m not sure where Perry intends to go after Witness, and then something as bemusing as this hodgepodge of unremarkable songs, but it would have to be near supernatural to get this career kicking again.

TXT(TOMORROW x TOGETHER): minisode1: Blue Hour
(2020.10.26)

TXT(TOMORROW x TOGETHER) had one of the best debuts of the year in 2019, and a serviceable follow-up in the very BTS-like third part of their Dream Chapter. Hopefully, this bewilderingly dull “minisode” is just that, a mere tiny, ever brief blip on the K-pop radar, and not a sign that the group is a one-trick pony, incapable of doing anything more than methodically adding the same kind of fuel to a fire that’s slowly losing its distinctive, incandescent glow.

Top ten debut albums of 2019

After the dumpster-fires that keep erupting around news of K-pop trainees, from grueling schedules to crash-diets to the lack of resources for mental health care, I am continually surprised (and, shamefully, grateful) that anyone still chooses to sign contracts and put themselves through the ringer for a chance at fame and fortune. After all, where would we all be without entertainment companies continuing to debut groups, with rookies taking on the burden of sometimes broken systems to hone an incredible array of talents, with artists continually mixing and matching influences past and present to create new music we’re all just blessed to hear?

We’ve had both disappointing and promising K-pop debuts this year, from the stale tropical and electro house drops that dominated lead singles, to yet another company hoping to hit on the same supernatural alchemy that generated hometown heroes Girls’ Generation and overseas warriors like BTS. On that front we had groups like Cherry Bullet, repping for the Red Velvet-lovers and TXT (TOMORROW x TOGETHER), the latter who in their youthful ear-worms released not one, but two enchantingly sweet takes on pop, channeling all the BTS-but-twice-as-earnest charm they could muster, with a similar look and vibe, too, as if spawned from the very rib of their big brothers (both groups are under Big Hit Entertainment). And it was nice being swept away by the joyful ambition of a group like ARIAZ, whose Grand Opera proved that the staple girl-group sound still has the ability to work new melodies into the same old bottles. I’m not sure any of these groups, from BVNDIT to Purple Beck to Bz-Boys, will have any staying power (especially the last two), but they deliver on everything K-pop promised back in 2009, when the future was a bright horizon promising fresh sounds you’d never heard before in beautiful, unblemished packages. Listening to something like “Drama” or “Dream Line,” you can almost believe that’s how it all turned out.

One of the most interesting things in music this year, previously only hinted at in bits and pieces, has been the mainstream emergence of the late 90’s and early 00’s aesthetic. It’s been done before (actually, as with any recent trend, I can almost always confidently say f(x) did it first), but with the 20th anniversary of Y2K looming, we’ve gotten two albums that solidified their dedication to the Western girl-group boom that gave us such gems as Dream’s “He Loves You Not” and “Hit Me Baby One More Time“-Britney Spears in LIZ’s super fun Planet Y2K and Slayyyter’s eponymous mixtape, the latter whose vocals embrace the same uncanny coo that Max Martin coaxed out of the young Spears, taken to its more gratuitous ends. The former boasts hyper-pop like the ooey-gooey-cheewy “Bubblegum,” Dream-esque “Intuition,” and Ace of Base-lite “Lost U 2 The Boys.” It’s one big celebration of and homage to kitsch Millennium, an early 00’s Kylie Minogue-music video brought to life, with all the glorious, nostalgic elements safely intact. Slayyyter fast-forwards a few years to the MySpace-era, but is no less dedicated to authenticity — it’s more sleazy, more skeptical of what happens when you’ve grown up on a steady diet of plastic backpacks, Von Dutch hats, leaked sex videos, and a wall of carefully curated glitter .gifs. They provide the same time-machine experience, but two very different perspectives, and it’s hard not to find a guilty pleasure in both, and hope to see more from these promising curistas.

J-pop is usually a genre that doesn’t get much representation in this category: it’s harder to get a sense of promise from a genre that has trouble generating hype without making you meet it halfway, and the more time passes, the more difficult the hard sell is. And then there are the logistics. Here are two prime examples of groups that caught my eye in 2019: the first, BBHF, who released two EPs this year (the second one, Family, being the one that piqued my interest when it hit the Oricon top 50), but they are, unfortunately, an old band under a new name, and don’t technically qualify. The second is another indie-rock group, GENIE HIGH, who released their debut studio album GENIE HIGH STORY at the tail-end of November. I was under the impression that they were operating under the obvious influences of Gesu no Kiwami Otome., before learning that Enon Kawatani, the front man of Gesu is actually in this band. Of course! It has all of the Kawatani hallmarks: dandy, ragtime pianos, thin, peppy drums, and vocals that have been coached into constant falsetto icecapades. GENIE HIGH STORY is incredibly fun, interlaced with quirky bits and skits that propel the album along at a crisp speed, and though it is largely inconsequential, it is remarkable for a debut album. Then again, Kawatani is a veteran at this point, and its similarity to Gesu makes it seems like cheating to land in this category. I mean, is SuperM a true debut group for that matter either? I make exceptions, but at the busiest time of the year, I don’t have time to play around with these kinds of logistics. In the end, these lists are as inconsequential as this album will be to the history of J-rock, and in the same sense of amusement, and anticipation of more from this group, I’ll allow it.

The debuts wrap up with two outstanding angles: two metal albums from musicians who, with the power of studio wizardry, turn their one-man acts into the sonic equivalents of group therapy. Discovering that Sermon’s Birth of the Marvellous and Ethereal Darkness’s Smoke and Shadows were essentially the products of a single mind was quite lovely: neither of these albums are seamless at hiding the flaws inherent in attempting to be their own islands, but they are achievements nonetheless, and as debuts, they promise future improvement with a little extra experience and resources at their disposable. Now contrast this with the technical proficiency of a group like Paladin: any band would be lucky to release Ascension as a second or third album, but these guys pulled off a nearly-flawless debut. In some ways this could be a handicap, as it will be hard to top this thrilling mix of thrash and power metal. But I look forward to the attempt and encourage everyone to keep an eye on this group.

Keep an eye on all of these people: the excitement of debut albums is the herald of new voices, new sounds, of getting to be a part of an artist’s journey from day one. They’re all at different stages of their evolution on that day, but Summer Walker, Mabel, Runaway June, and all the artists who didn’t quite make this list, have one thing in common: the ability to blow you away, now or in the future.

Summer Walker: Over It // GENIE HIGH: GENIE HIGH STORY

Ethereal Darkness: Smoke and Shadows // Sermon: Birth of the Marvellous

ARIAZ: Grand Opera // Slayyyter: Slayyyter

TXT: THE DREAM CHAPTER: STAR // LIZ: Planet Y2K

Paladin: Ascension // Sigrid: Sucker Punch

Honorable Mentions

Cherry Bullet: Let’s Play Cherry Bullet
Mabel: High Expectations
Felivers: Felivers
Runaway June: Blue Roses
Dreamchaser: Heart