The Albums That Defined Our College Years: Class of 2021

From Frank Sinatra to Solange, here’s what helped our graduating members through both the monumental and mundane of collegiate life.

Written by Afterglow’s graduating members

Illustrated by Darrina Green

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.

Nothing But The Best by Frank Sinatra

Me along my journey of learning how to take a proper self-portrait in 2020. (We’re getting there!)

Four years and many lifetimes ago, I came to UT after dreaming about becoming a student here nearly my entire life. My plan was to become a doctor of audiology while still pursuing my love of arts on the side. And I did that. I’ve had the opportunity to star in stage shows at UT, direct plays, manage art galleries, and take hundreds, if not thousands of photos for many campus events and organizations — Afterglow being one of them.

As I dragged on through my degree plan, I found my love of art starting to match my interest in audiology and other, more practical career plans. Along with this, my taste in music started shifting… I started to enjoy listening to my golden oldies just as much and even more than I enjoyed listening to my alternative and punk favorites from back in high school. Now, I’m not much of an album person, I’m more of a ‘pick and choose my top few tracks from here and there’ type of individual. However, one of the few artists that’s remained consistent for me through these entire four years is good ol’ Frank Sinatra, with Nothing But The Best offering most of my favorite tracks from him all in one place. It’s the perfect music for my late nights studying, roommate road trips, and for days lounging around by the pool (which I wish I could’ve had more of).

I don’t know all of what the future holds for me — if I’ll be a doctor, or someone slumming it while trying to pursue their passions. But I’m forever grateful for the opportunities Afterglow has offered me in exploring my taste in music and art — hopefully I may have many more after this. 

 — Rudi Noelle Klarmann, Staff Photographer

Currents by Tame Impala

Me posing in front of the rainbow exhibit at the Blanton, my favorite spot on campus. Photo courtesy of Casey Tang.

When I was in high school, my aunt introduced me to Tame Impala. The first album that I listened to was Currents. At the time, I had no idea that the record would define my years at UT, but I have a specific memory attached to the opening track, “Let It Happen.” In Fall 2019, I was promoted from photographer to photo editor at Afterglow. The infamous Austin City Limits festival offered the publication photo passes, and I was asked if I wanted to shoot the festival. I was nervous, but I knew that I could not pass up on the opportunity. 

Despite the second Friday of ACL being cold and gloomy, I was able to watch Madison Beer, King Princess, and Lil Uzi Vert all before Tame Impala closed the festival. They were my dream act to shoot. A security guard covering the event let me know that the photo pit would be open to everyone, so I got in line as early as I could. Being in the photo pit that night felt like a dream. The band opened up their set with “Let It Happen,” and at one point I had to put my camera down to just soak in the moment. I sang and danced along, sharing looks of disbelief with the other photographers in the pit. I truly had the best day of my life. 

Another significant track from Currents is “Yes I’m Changing,” which reminds me of my first love whom I met while at UT. We listened to the album together often, and the song still gives me a sense of peace and optimism. Other tracks that I come back to over and over again are the iconic “The Less I Know The Better,” the soothing “Past Life,” and upbeat “Disciples.” Overall, Currents was the soundtrack to my most formative, heartbreaking, and beautiful years yet. 

— Gabriela Ruiz, Photo Editor

Be the Cowboy by Mitski

Me (center) with my best friends Selome (left) and Annie (right) during my 20th birthday bash! The very next day, I directed my first short film — also cowboy-themed — with them and my boyfriend Dylan as cast and crew.

The ‘dance-while-you-cry’ trope has dominated my entire college career, and Mitski has consistently been at the center of the chaos. One of the greatest moments of my life was during my cowboy-themed 20th birthday party, when we blared the disco triumph of “Nobody” as I blew out the candles atop a gloriously decorated cake. Picture this: a room full of best friends dressed in their finest Western regalia, begging, pleading for one good movie kiss. It was just perfect. To this day, relics of that night are still strewn about my apartment — from rows of twinkling gold stars, to bedazzled felt cowboy hats.

Be the Cowboy manifested itself into my life in ways big and small: It was the first review I ever wrote for Afterglow in the Fall 2018, signifying the start of one of the most treasured eras of my life. It was my go-to during my time in Los Angeles, where my dreams finally seemed within reach. It called back to me in 2021, as I attempted to reexamine my own Asian American identity during a time of unrest for our community. It also soundtracked the first time I fell in love. Over the years, Mitski’s mantra of fully embracing yourself has become synonymous with my desire to master the art of emotional immediacy, wherein I could finally celebrate my deepest vulnerabilities with stark humor — and my grossest failures with total honesty.

As I wrap up my senior year and third semester as Editor-in-Chief of Afterglow, I look at the beautiful mess we made in stride. There’s so much to be proud of and a lot to look forward to — and I feel like an utter wreck trying to navigate the vast unknown of my future. But then I remember how Mitski created her magnum opus under a fully-fledged persona of an Asian woman in control. At the end of the day, it all comes back to the business of being the cowboy. 

— Zoe Judilla, Editor-in-Chief of Digital

Losing by Bully 

After seeing Bully live my freshman year, going to shows became my favorite activity. Here I am helping prop up L7’s Donita Sparks (I’m center right) at Mohawk, 2019. Perhaps my finest punk rock moment. Photo courtesy of John Leach.

If we’re being honest, I’ve spent more time in the last four years listening to Interpol’s moody Turn On The Bright Lights while pulling all-nighters than I have listening to Bully’s Losing. But the latter album reminds me of the “fun” part of college, which, for me, has revolved around going to shows. Growing up in small town Fort Worth, I wasn’t exactly plugged into the underground, so I only got to experience live music when a big enough name would persuade my mother to drive me to Dallas. But at the end of my first semester at UT, I, a kid fresh out of their ‘90s grunge phase, discovered Bully — a modern punk band signed to the notorious label, Sub Pop Records. Naturally, I was obsessed. Moving to the ‘Live Music Capital’ paid off: The band had an upcoming show at Emo’s, and an in-store performance at Waterloo. I dragged my only friend with a semblance of a similar music taste down to the record store and stood mere feet away from Alicia Bognanno as she performed an acoustic set and signed LPs. I was too shy to approach her. Later, we rode the bus across town (we were freshmen, after all) for the real gig. It was probably the most I’d left campus all semester. 

While wholesome looking back — we ended the night at Kerbey with midnight hot chocolate before returning to our dorms — the experience was groundbreaking for my young self. Halfway through the set, my friend (the cooler of our duo) left to attend another show at Barracuda. Her phone was broken at the time, so I called her a Lyft myself and prayed she’d be safe alone. We ended up walking back to Kinsolving all the way from Red River. I never imagined doing any of these things, most of all being alone at a concert. That evening gave me a lot of confidence, though, and the next year, going to shows by myself became my brand (waiting outside Mohawk for hours before punk shows because minors couldn’t come in until doors grew to define my sophomore year). I’ve always been a bit of a loner, but while traversing across Austin that evening, I learned an important lesson: it’s impossible to feel lonely in a pit of sweaty, screaming bodies, all united by the same song. 

— Carys Anderson, Editor-In-Chief of Print 

Isolation by Kali Uchis

Me (center) having a collective human experience at my first ever ACL Festival in 2019.

Once, many years ago, I was approached with the incredibly loaded question: “Do you listen to Kali Uchis?” Struck by my fear of being out of the know (hello, Gemini speaking) and giving someone else the upperhand in music taste, I simply scoffed and said, “Yeah, of course.” So it was at the end of my high school career that I began listening to the Colombian consentida purely out of spite. 

Now I know what you’re thinking, and yes — it’s incredibly superficial. If it’s of any consolation, I’d like to think I’ve matured since then. What started out as a need to be cool quickly transformed into a fanatical lifestyle. Vacillating between sentimentality and badassery, Kali Uchis’ records perfectly encompassed the messy journey that’s been coming into my own womanhood. Released a year into my college experience, Isolation has forever marked its place in my music rotation. Picking and choosing songs depending on my mood (re: Gemini), the LP managed to capture the rainbow of emotions that was my teenage angst. 

When I was feeling melancholy, the serpentine “Gotta Get Up (Interlude)” would play on repeat for days on end. When I needed to hike from Belo to Speedway in ten minutes I would play the peppy “In My Dreams.” I even unironically played “Miami” on a spring break trip as we drove down Calle Ocho (because I just had to, that’s why). Then came May 2019, when I was christened in the pit of the Revention Music Center as Kali Uchis and Jorja Smith sang their siren songs. There is no better way to describe her Houston performance: it was a spiritual awakening for the collective. I saw my soul ascend into the venue’s catwalk as Kali Uchis covered Don Omar’s “Pobre Diabla,” her voice reaching the lowest register I’ve ever heard her sing. For a whole year I played this Youtube video on repeat while we waited for her to formally release “i want war (BUT I NEED PEACE)” from her To Feel Alive EP. 

Though my introduction to Kali Uchis stemmed from a disingenuous place, her music has book-ended the chapters of my life since then. Each song in her discography is a snapshot of my time in college. Outside of my growing love for Kali, I’ve experienced changes unimaginable — no longer feigning music interest is one of them. (And I've stopped hanging out with Virgos for the most part.)

— Samantha Paradiso, Managing Editor

Crack-Up by Fleet Foxes

Me, indulging my little film photography hobby. 

For me, college was a joyful wreck — one that proved again and again that fate loves laughing at my plans. After dropping out my first semester, I re-entered college as a Rhetoric and Writing major in the Spring 2018 — both because I was determined to feel like a “real” writer and because I felt under-qualified for any other discipline (impostor syndrome, amiright?). I did well enough those first couple years, though every week felt like choreographing a dance in the center of a tornado. I bent studying around work shifts, org meetings around studying, and sleep around all of the above. With every day moving at warp speed, it felt like one misstep would send me spiraling, but I managed. Then, at the start of junior year, I broke off a relationship I’d clung to for years. It was ultimately the best decision, saving me from future harm, but at the time it tore apart my friend group and left me ungrounded. Ironically, Crack-Up held me together.

A long-time Fleet Foxes fan, I stumbled into Crack-Up, their 2017 release, after exhausting Helplessness Blues. On the surface, the album is jumbled, full of flickering horns and thumping folk-rock beats cut with moments of total silence; it’s best described as “experimental folk.” Throughout 2019, I listened to Crack-Up non-stop: “On Another Ocean” followed me as I stepped over broken concrete in West Campus, feeling lost. Taking lunch break in my car, I’d blare “I’m All that I Need” for a pick-me-up. It’s an album with a complete arc, venturing from despair to restoration. In “Crack-Up,” the final song, Robin Pecknold sings, “Oh, will you wait? / You, alive.” Though strained, his voice is unwavering and hopeful, like he’s witnessing the outline of a horizon. It was exactly what I needed to hear as I built myself anew.  

— Kateri David, Staff Writer

Joy As An Act of Resistance by IDLES

Me getting absolutely demolished at the front of IDLES’ set, ACL 2019 (photo courtesy of Chad Wadsworth), and something a tad bit more flattering to be remembered by.

Coming in as a finance major with… opinions... on capitalism and bookended by a global pandemic, UT has been a relentless f-cking experience. Being a college student is unquestionably advertised as the ‘most fun four years in peoples’ lives,’ but I think we all know that it’s not quite that rosy. Between some brutal classes, generally demoralizing world events, and the last 12 months of social isolation, having fun has been getting harder and harder — but that hasn’t stopped us. 

So to me, nothing more aptly describes my college experience than IDLES’ 2018 album Joy As An Act of Resistance. The band’s lyrical take-downs of toxic masculinity, racism, and the institution of hate in general are all fine and dandy, but the band packages their foot-stomping, unifying messages behind their most important quality: fun. The album is. Just. Fun. Manic guitar riffs, thundering drums, relentless bass, and absurd one-liners just lift my mood and energy every single time, without fail. Song titles like “Never Fight A Man With A Perm,” references to “Dirty Dancing” (1987), lyrics like “I’m like Stone Cold Steve Austin / I put homophobes in coffins,” spelling out the word “great” letter by letter as loud as possible in the chorus of the appropriately named “Great,” “Gram Rock” being a song about two dudes attending a funeral high on cocaine ... I could go on and on. 

There’s not a dull moment, no matter the topic, no matter the moment — and I think that’s a vibe to live by. No matter how you find it, joy really has been an act of resistance against the increasingly pessimistic environment that surrounds us. Experiencing all kinds of music and writing/editing for Afterglow have been a huge part of my personal resistance and personal joy, and are the biggest reasons I’ve made it to the end of my time at UT intact.

The world really doesn’t want you to have fun. Do it anyway.

— Adithya Srinivas, Content Editor

How Will You Know If You Never Try by COIN

Me standing on Moody Bridge preparing to enter the real world or something like that.

I wasn’t initially accepted to UT and was actually a CAP student at UT Arlington for my lonely first year of college. It seemed as though nothing held importance or permanence since I’d likely transfer automatically into COLA at UT if I met the required GPA and credit hours needed. It was hard trying to navigate life in a place that didn’t feel like home, and it didn’t help that I wasn’t entirely in love with the major I applied to: Computer Science, although it did feel practical. I was tired of being alone, but gradually, I made friends who had similar interests (and music tastes) to mine. I clicked instantly with one friend in particular whom I spent nearly every waking moment with, since we lived just down the hall from one another. 

My friend group made frequent, late-night Taco Bell visits, because there wasn’t much else for a group of 18-year-olds to do. We’d cruise through the drive-thru, pick up our late night snacks, and head back to the garage of our dorm to eat, listen to music, and chat the night away. On one of those nights near the end of the year, the song “Hannah” by COIN came on shuffle. I can’t quite describe just how much the song and the vibe of it resonated with me. It was beautiful, and perfect, and absolutely spoke to me. The lyrics, “How will you know if you never try?” hit me in a place I wasn’t expecting, as I neared the end of freshman year, feeling like I didn’t know where I was going with a degree that I didn’t care about. As cheesy as it may sound, this record helped me realize that I couldn’t live my life without finding out what it would be like to pursue my passion for filmmaking. As a result, instead of pursuing CS, I applied and was accepted to the Radio-Television-Film program. Once I got into UT as an RTF major, I was able to share this album with (or rather, shove down the throats of) my new friends. I got the chance to see COIN in concert in October 2019 and it was honestly one of the best nights of my life. I get to see them again this November and I couldn’t be more excited. This album hit me somewhere deep as an 18-year-old, and it continues to now, as a 22-year-old graduating from college, and attempting to navigate the real world. 

— Sabrina Zahir, Multimedia Producer

I Don’t Run by Hinds

Me (right) and my best friend Tori (left), who introduced me to Hinds.

There’s not many bands that make me want to immediately get up and start dancing, but Hinds is one of those bands. I still remember the day this album came out; my friend Tori and I made plans to walk around Downtown Austin listening to it. Tori and I actually met back in 2016 at a Hinds SXSW showcase, and the band has been a part of the most transitional points of my life since. I listened to them as I was applying to, moving into, and now graduating college. I Don’t Run was released during my freshman year, and while I don’t listen to it as religiously as I did before, I still see it as the album that has guided me through all these years in school. The band is also a group of incredibly talented and powerful women that I look up to — their drive inspires me to push for my goals.

Listening to this album, I can’t help but feel joy and reminisce on everlasting memories of my college experiences. I remember screaming the lyrics of “Soberland” with Tori on multiple occasions, having the time of our lives. When she moved away from Austin at the end of 2018, I would listen to this album when I missed her. At one point, I had “Ma Nuit” on my sleep playlist, eventually becoming my most listened to song of 2018. From blowing off schoolwork to listen to the album, to driving towards a concert immediately after class, Hinds has become a large part of my college experience. Not to mention, I Don’t Run was one of the first records I bought when beginning my record collection. 

When I first started listening to Hinds I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, but I’ve finally found what I’m passionate about: music and photography. And similar to Hinds, Afterglow has offered me guidance in what I want to pursue as my career. It has been such a wild four years that I could have never predicted, but years that I will always treasure. As I depart this chapter of my life, I am so thankful for all that I learned from Hinds and from Afterglow alike.

— Tiffany Chung, Senior Staff Photographer

Pop 2 by Charli XCX

Me (right) preparing to enjoy a cold glass of almond milk with my dear friends Dylan Keesee (left) and Selome Hailu (center).

The past four and a half years already feel impossibly distant. College has been in my rear-view mirror for a few months now; I stepped down from leading Afterglow last August and then graduated in December. Seclusion and Zoom calls supersede my time at UT, and it alarms me how quickly everything else fades into an intangible blur: snagging an open study spot in the CMA lobby, taking 4 a.m. refuge in the KVRX booth, dancing with my friends in cowboy hats. 

Music is my way of sifting images back to the surface, and Charli XCX’s Pop 2 reigns supreme in my subconscious. In an instant, I’m brought back to late nights and car rides spent laughing, trying to get my resistant friends into her music. (They eventually came around.) Pop 2 soundtracks my quiet moments too: clearing my head to “Track 10,” crying on a campus bench to “Lucky.” Charli masks similar loneliness with club beats, traversing technological disconnect with her malfunctioning “Femmebot” autotune. At its most extreme, the glitter-soaked distortion veers into the uncanny; primal wails become indecipherable from shrieking synths. Here, in the glitchy transcendence, I find comfort. Yet Charli seemingly offers a way through the isolation within the mixtape’s collaborative spirit. She surrounds herself with friends and like-minded visionaries: PC Music founder A.G. Cook, Caroline Polachek, Dorian Electra, CupcakKe, Mykki Blanco, SOPHIE, Tove Lo. All but two tracks have features. In the club banger “I Got It,” she relegates herself to just the titular three words, taking joy in watching her companions under the spotlight. 

Soon after Pop 2’s release, I wondered about the possibility of a new music publication on campus. It didn’t take long for me to rope Selome into my plans, and together we dreamed of a warm, inclusive space for students to grow. To my endless gratitude, our editors and staff trusted our ideas — uplifting them, transforming them, making them into something bigger and brighter. It has been a weird, thorny process to untangle myself from Afterglow after it defined such a big part of my identity for over two years. What’s made it easier is knowing I carry the connections forward with me. And Afterglow’s in good hands, ready to build those bonds for many more.

 “I’m better off alone,” Charli sings in “Backseat,” the last word sending her down an all too familiar spiral. By the song’s breakdown, Carly Rae Jepsen joins in, and their voices mingle, first in desperation and then in catharsis. Charli’s not alone, and neither am I. 

— Annie Lyons, Co-Founder

Donuts by J Dilla

Me doing it to them at graduation, taken just hours before publication.

As someone who is a huge fan of hip-hop production and loves to nerd-out about obscure sample usage, many times while reading about different producer’s inspirations and influences, it seemed like all roads traced back to J Dilla. Upon my first complete listen through the album, it was obvious why. The album is a sonic masterpiece, with supremely soulful samples chopped into infectious loops, somehow feeling rough and meticulous at the same time. Throughout my college experience, Donuts was one of the few albums I would always come back to. It was an album that I could turn on if I was going through a highly stressful time, knowing it would lessen my worries as my mind was submerged in its familiar loops. It was always the perfect reset.    

Dilla’s approach to music production was also creatively inspirational to me. All Dilla needed was an MPC loaded with the right samples and a few drum sounds to make his music. His tools were humble, and his music was oftentimes simple, but he completely mastered his craft and created undeniably important music that was greater than the sum of its parts. I often think about this philosophy of addition by subtraction in relation to my own creative pursuits. 

Long live Dilla, and long live Donuts!

— Mark Yoder, Audio Director

Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder

Two polaroids I took before my last semester of college.

Mr. Wonder and I have been together through both my good and bad times while at UT. Before moving to Austin, my mom and I would start our days blasting “Pastime Paradise” as loud as the speakers in the car would allow. I can still remember the dance routine we made up one morning on the way to school while being stuck in traffic for thirty minutes. I think that’s when my infatuation with Songs in the Key of Life manifested into a life-long relationship. During my first year of college, I would spend a substantial amount of time at the PCL working on assignments and projects between the hours of 4 p.m. and 3 a.m. I began making playlists for different times of the day to rectify the weird stares I received from the surrounding people that would hear the rap songs playing through my headphones at 1 a.m. But one night I put Songs in the Key of Life on shuffle and it became the only album I could play without judgement of others. Similar to the album, I’ve made my best creative work while playing it on repeat.      

If I break down the album itself, it has always accompanied my life in some way. If I’m focusing on work and need an instrumental, I listen to “Contusion.” Let’s say I had a hard day and just need some good vibes; I listen to the tracks “As” and “Summer Soft.” If I need a reminder of my support system and their loving embrace, my go-to’s are “Knocks Me Off My Feet” and “Sir Duke.” There’s a reason the album has been voted one of the top albums of all time in many polls — it gives the people soul, meaningful lyrics, and creative beats.     

Songs in the Key of Life has become my secret to success. 

— Darrina Green, Digital Design Editor

no tears left to cry by Ariana Grande

Selfie I took after I finished my last assignment.

Being involved with Afterglow has definitely given me better taste in music, and helped me branch out into new genres. I distinctly remember having Ariana Grande’s “no tears left to cry” get me through finals in Spring 2018. I remember walking back to Jester West with that blaring in my ears after finishing my Math exam, knowing I got an A. I’ve always been a fan of Ariana, but that song was something else, and I remember coming to Afterglow for staff photos that fall and talking about what songs off sweetener we liked. I remember laughing at someone's comment about using breathing in the mix of a few songs like “blazed” and “R.E.M.”

Fall 2019 I moved to Riverside, and my commute to school became a little longer. On the bus I would listen to Tinashe’s absolute masterpiece Songs For You. I had almost every song on that album saved to my playlist, and I still listen to it regularly today. I haven’t gone through a breakup to warrant my love for this album but you will still see me bumping to it like I have especially “Know Better” and “Perfect Crime.” There’s just something about it that’s just... chef’s kiss. 

My last year at college was dominated by Rina Sawayama’s debut album SAWAYAMA and Miley Cyrus’s Plastic Hearts. Both albums have heavy rock influences, especially Miley’s, and I think I just needed someone to sing their heart out to finish my degree strong. Songs like “Who’s Gonna Save U Now?,” “STFU,” and “Dynasty” from SAWAYAMA helped me with my stress by yelling them at the top of my lungs, similarly with “plastic hearts'' and “WTF Do I know” from Plastic Hearts… do you see a pattern? 

— Paige Giordano, Print Design Editor

A Seat at the Table by Solange

Me (left) taking very sober mirror selfies with my lovely friends Dylan Keesee (middle) and Annie Lyons (right) at The Last Good Party Before the Apocalypse.

Not one of my friends, especially my Afterglow friends, will be shocked to see that I’m writing about A Seat at the Table. It’s the album I would have chosen in my first days of college, and it’s the album I’m choosing in my last. It’s been a metronome of sorts for me over these years — I’ve put it on while writing, showering, cooking, crying, during asthma attacks, during road trips, during parties. It always steadies my heartbeat.

In the first half of college, my favorite songs on the album were “Mad” and “Don’t Touch My Hair.” I laugh thinking about that now, because I can see that I had a lot of anger I wasn’t noticing or letting myself process… except for when I listened to the album. When a boy treated me badly, I waited until the community bathroom of Kinsolving Dormitory was empty at 2 or 3 in the morning so I could sing (screech?) in the shower in private. Solange coos, “You-oooooooo got the right / To be mad.” More than once, I whispered back, “I do!” (My love for “Don’t Touch My Hair” is based very plainly on the fact that Solange herself made eye contact with me while singing it at her 2017 ACL performance. We shook our curls in unison.)

Since then, my favorites have rotated. “Rise” in my morning-person phases. “Don’t You Wait” during big transitions. “Junie” on good days and “Weary” on bad ones. But I have to admit, I don’t listen through A Seat at the Table every single day the way that I used to. I’m not even sure if I listen to it every week anymore. (Gasp! Definitely multiple times a month, though; let’s not get too crazy.) At the start of the pandemic, my world sort of went silent. I hardly listened to any music at all from March to May. In the year since, I’ve certainly found my way back, and my listening habits have changed. But fittingly, my most-played track from A Seat at the Table this year has been “Where Do We Go.” Solange asks, again and again, “Where do we go from here? / Do you know?” 

And I don’t. I’m leaving Afterglow and UT behind with only hazy ideas of what my future looks like. But Solange seems more interested in asking the right questions than looking for the right answers. So I’m trying to be that way, too. 

— Selome Hailu, Co-Founder