The Albums that Defined Our College Years

Siri, play “Pomp and Circumstance.”

Written by Afterglow’s graduating members
Illustrated by Paige Giordano

As we say goodbye to Afterglow’s graduating members, we asked them to reflect on the music that soundtracked the past few years of their lives. 

Golden Hour by Kacey Musgraves

Me and a friend at Kacey’s Stubbs show.

It’s hard to pick just one album to sum up my time at UT, mostly because I’ve been here for 45 years. My first thought was Dangerous Woman, which I listened to on repeat while packing up my freshman year dorm and was one of the first albums I truly stanned (I’d recently come out and was excited to lean in). Then I thought maybe Reputation, because few things have shook me quite as much as “Look What You Made Me Do” did upon first listen, and I’ll never forget the satisfaction of successfully converting some of my closest friends into Swifties. On the other hand, So Sad So Sexy was the soundtrack to countless subway rides and rooftop sits when I lived in New York for a summer, and hearing “hard rain” will always bring a rush of tears to my eyes when I think about how much I loved that time and the friends I spent it with. Stranger In The Alps was a source of reassurance when I felt isolated during the fall of my fifth and final year, and again when I truly *was* isolated this spring.

If I had to pick just one, though, I’d go with Golden Hour, which best captures that conflicting, kind of sad, but ultimately warm feeling I get when I think back on the past few years. The first time I heard the album, I was on hour five of an all-nighter at Bennu, and it was a desperately needed boost of serotonin. It’s been a comfort record for me ever since, serving as the score to solitary morning walks, evenings with friends, and nights spent reflecting on weird, bad dates that felt like the end of the world in the moment. When I saw Kacey live at Stubb’s, my favorite venue in Austin, she started her set with “Slow Burn.” It made me cry for a reason I couldn’t quite pinpoint at the time. After five years and four majors, “I’m gonna do it my way, it’ll be alright / if we burn it down and it takes all night / it’s a slow burn” resonates even more.

— Nick Gonzales, Social Media Editor

The Altar by Banks

Me, one of my best friends, and my mom (AKA my lifelong concert buddy) at Banks’ ACL Late Night Show.

When I first stepped foot on the UT Austin campus as a student, I was a mechanical engineering student. I had no direction in life, but I harbored a cautious optimism that college was going to be a new start for me. That was terrifying, both as someone with anxiety and as a libra. In September of my freshman year, hardly a month after my first day of classes, Banks released The Altar. I played the album on repeat when I did anything — for months, I didn’t listen to anything else. Many of the songs on the album take me back to specific moments in college, reminding me of who I used to be and how glad I am that I’ve changed —  whether I was forcing myself to work out in between classes (yes, I sprinted on a treadmill to the somber “To the Hilt”) or staying up till 3am to finish a paper due for my 9am class, pushing myself through extreme fatigue with dance breaks to “F--k with Myself.”

And most notably, I sought comfort in the album through my major-switching crisis — I’m a journalism major now. The transition was pretty rough for me, and I’ve experienced a number of rough moments over the past four years, but listening to “Gemini Feed” and “Poltergeist” still sparks that same excitement in me that it did on my first listen. Any time I needed to be grounded, I put on The Altar and feel remarkably connected to the world around me. I enjoy the album in phases now — I drift to other music constantly, as most music fans do, but every time I come back to it I find a new favorite track. It feels like it’s growing with me, and I’m finding new things to love about it every time I return to it.

— Minnah Zaheer, Managing Editor

Ctrl by SZA

Me and the incredible friend who introduced me to SZA.

My SZA saga began during a 2017 summer following my freshman year at UT. It was a time filled with Calculus II and medical shadowing that made the days merge into each other. But it was also a time when a friend had introduced me to SZA’s Ctrl. Originally, I wasn’t a fan of what she shared, but with time and repeated listens, I grew to love a majority of the album. Whether with empowering anthems or tracks that were windows into youthful vulnerability, I admired how SZA created a work that sonically glistened while tackling insecurity. Collectively, Ctrl made me feel like SZA was attempting to create an individualized space as she lived in a world of introspection; I felt I was trying to do the same when finishing my first year of college while under a shroud of uncertainty. I had no clue what I was doing or why I was doing it, but SZA’s tracks normalized that reality.

Ctrl was an album that filled in the gaps of free time, made my bland days sweeter, and gave me comfort in the unknown. For the next two years, SZA became my top artist while Ctrl and its sounds carried me through both good and bad experiences. And now, as I finish up my last semester amid a global pandemic and a tumultuous job market, I’m looking back at the music which composed my past. I’m entering a SZA renaissance — a SZAnaisaance, if you will — where Ctrl is coming back into my life and giving me a healthy dose of auditory nostalgia.

— Sandeep Bhakta, Staff Writer 

I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning by Bright Eyes

Me at Zilker Park during my sophomore year.

One of my favorite things to do during college was leave college. Sure, going out with friends relieves stress, but there’s no better feeling than ignoring the work piling up just to go sit outside and do nothing at all. Any park within 50 mile radius provided my escape, and nothing pairs better with escapism and Central Texas hiking trails than Bright Eyes’ I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning. In high school, I thought this album was too angsty, but in college, it became my go-to for short road trips to Pedernales State Park and waiting at the Whataburger drive thru after hiking at Bull Creek all day.

Behind all its angst and Conner Oberst’s existentialism, there is an irresistible emotional exuberance to this album that makes you feel like something great is about to happen. “Train Underwater”’s reminder to “just let some time pass / and in the morning you’ll wake feeling new” coupled with “Another Travelin’ Song”’s uptempo encouragement to just keep barreling forward into change helped me let go of the “what ifs” in life and find peace in the uncertainty of the future. And while this album might not be joyful, the continuous, cathartic cycle of Oberst’s laments on the past giving way to hopeful new beginnings promises that optimism is always worth it, even from your lowest point.

— Kasey Clarke, Managing Editor

Make My Bed by King Princess

Here’s a picture from when I wondered if I was a beanie lesbian. I’m still not sure...

My first semester or so in Austin was spent diving headfirst into an identity that I had felt forced to water down in years prior. While this city is not actually the “queer haven” it claims to be for anyone that isn’t white, cisgender, rich, and corporate, the physical distance from my high school self and the proximity to kind and supporting queer friends gave me the space to explore what lesbianism meant to me. Was it frogs? DIY haircuts? Wheatsville’s bulk food section?

When King Princess released Make My Bed the summer after my freshman year, it was truly all I listened to for months. I was gay and in love and I wanted to yell about it! I forced my then-girlfriend to go with me to her show the following February so we could be gay together in public, surrounded by literally every queer girl in Austin. For a few hours, we existed in a sapphic sanctuary that I might only be able to recreate if I ever get back to Wheatsville’s bulk section.

The next time King Princess visited Austin, I was freshly single and spending an alarming amount of my time alone. I ended up going to the concert by myself which, besides an unfortunate half hour spent entertaining the startup bro standing next to me, was the perfect ending to a circle left open by a vague, “we’re still friends” breakup all-to-familiar to many queer girls. I felt part of a community, something that I didn’t experience fully when I was focused on the romance of it all. 

King Princess has and will make many mistakes during her career (the first of which being born into extreme wealth), but she stitched together two phases of my college experience that I thought were doomed to be separated by a very sad fissure, so we’ll forget for a second that her great grandparents owned Macy’s. 

— Kaci Pelias, Staff Writer

Shawn Mendes by Shawn Mendes

Me and Shawn at a meet and greet during his summer 2019 tour.

Shawn Mendes’ self-titled album was released on May 25, 2018, in the midst of my college experience. I was in between schools: transferring from community college to UT Austin that summer. This album then stuck with me throughout the next two school years. I would blast it through my car speakers as I drove from San Antonio to Austin while moving into my first apartment, on the bus from school to work, and in between classes. It was a coming-of-age collection, a time to experience and act like young adults. I had the opportunity to meet Shawn and see him live for the second time last summer. It will be a moment I’ll never forget. I’ll have these memories and music to reminisce over my time at UT.

— Erika Ramirez, Photographer

In Rainbows by Radiohead

Me at ACL 2016.

There is no album that exemplifies my college experience more than In Rainbows by Radiohead. In 2016, my freshman year, I went to ACL weekend 2 on October 7. I had no idea how much that night would mean to me all these years later as I stood in the crowd waiting for five hours to see my new favorite band: Radiohead. Although the album was almost 10 years old at that point, most of the songs they performed that night were from In Rainbows. Standing in the crowd and witnessing them play their magic live made me fall in love with their music at a time I needed music like that the most. It is still one of my favorite experiences of the last four years.

As my time at UT continued, I dove into their entire discography head first and Radiohead became a crucial part of my life. Whenever I struggled, their music made me feel grounded — especially In Rainbows. Something about the rawness of the lyrics paired with the warmth of the music spoke to me like no other piece of art has since. In Rainbows is a celebration of all of life, both its beauty and its ugliness, its light and its darkness, its triumphs and its pains. Throughout all of my college years this album spoke to me and inspired me both to create and appreciate my life more. When I started writing for Afterglow my junior year, the second article I ever wrote was about the penultimate song on In Rainbows and my favorite song of all time: “Jigsaw Falling Into Place.” I will always be so thankful that I was able to write about something that meant so much to me and share it with so many more people. As I finally reach the finish line, In Rainbows still means so much to me, if not more now. 

My college experience was not really what I expected it to be, especially my final semester, but In Rainbows tells me to accept and also find something worth celebrating in this weird reality. Life will always be a rollercoaster of laughter, tears, anger, frustration, joy, hardship, etc ⁠— but that is why it is beautiful. I know good times will come again, so I leave UT a stronger, more confident person than I was when I arrived. I owe a lot of that growth to Radiohead’s music, but especially In Rainbows. 

— Haley Kennis, Staff Writer

blkswn by Smino

Me at the first Afterglow Editorial Staff karaoke night in fall 2018.

It’s so hard for me to choose an album that defines my college years. I try my best to keep my music and memories separate so I’m not forced to go down a long road of nostalgia every time I hear a certain song. I thought I had successfully done that with blkswn, but I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that the nostalgia isn’t present because I haven’t finished that part of my life yet. The album came out my sophomore year, and it was so good that I had opinions for the first time. It sparked something creative in me and reignited a desire to talk about the music that I love. Luckily, I stumbled upon Afterglow and had the opportunity to showcase this spark in an application that landed me a role as a Content Editor.

blkswn helped me find my spot on campus and remained a constant throughout my remaining time at UT, growing with me as I became more confident in myself. In my mind, Smino’s album was an outlier from the sounds that were so prevalent at the time —  a symbol that it was okay to do my own thing and think my own thoughts (as cheesy and  cliche as that is). blkswn was there for me at my best (the inception of the MilkShot) and my worst (the death of my basil plant Matilda), but — most importantly — it led me to the most meaningful relationships I have today. So, if it wasn’t naturally going to become associated with my college years, I’m happy that I can forcefully attach my favorite album to my favorite, most defining memories.

— Dylan Keesee, Content Editor