Review Summary: A deeply personal, tumultuous, and ultimately enthralling journey into the mind of someone suffering from emotional distress.
The musical stylings of twenty one pilots are somewhat of an enigma. The vocals flit back and forth between fast-paced raps and pop-punkish croons without warning; synths, pianos, and more conventional rock instruments are used interchangeably; and genres ranging from reggae to hip-hop to emo to industrial to folk all contribute in some way or another to their sound. To pull off a project that ambitious would be impressive, but even more so when you consider twenty one pilots is only composed of two people. And yet, somehow they make it work. This can be largely attributed to the fact that the album doesn’t even attempt to conform to a definable sound, preferring to just play whatever matches the cathartic musings of lyricist and vocalist Tyler Joseph at the time.
Twenty one pilots make this clear early on with one of the first lines heard on the album, contextualizing what’s to come when Joseph spits that this album is “just another attempt to make the voices stop.” And more than any of the eclectic sounds, it’s the lyrics and emotions expressed throughout that make it such a resounding success.
On this album Joseph’s anxiety, doubt, and fear are represented by a facet of his mind known as 'Blurryface.' And although this entity is referred to as a lyrical concept throughout the album, what’s more interesting is that 'Blurryface' actually has verses in the album signified by a deep drop in Joseph’s voice. Even though this character is only present on two tracks -- and I would have loved to hear him more -- it’s a fascinating way to personify emotions and helps bring the listener into Joseph’s world.
And what a world it is. “Blurryface” is a deeply personal album where, to help cope with his insecurities, Joseph put all of them on display. He speaks on his concerns that he might be going crazy, that everyone will hate his music, that the one person he’s let into his heart will tear him apart, and that he hasn’t been a good enough brother and son.
As someone who struggles with clinical anxiety, this album resonated with me in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. Even if my fears don’t align directly with Joseph’s, just hearing someone else intimately and eloquently describe what they’re going through, the uncertainties they face, the anxiety they harbor, was immensely gratifying.
This wasn’t by accident. At multiple points throughout the album Joseph refers to his listeners who suffer from emotional distress and makes it clear one of his goals on “Blurryface” was to reach those people.
This album wasn’t just gratifying because it allows the listener to feed off and share Joseph’s frightening mental experiences. The final track, “Goner,” played a big role in that gratification as well. After listening to 48 minutes of Joseph’s internal battle against the 'Blurryface' character, twenty one pilots finishes the album with a slow-burning track where Joseph, sounding broken and defeated, unconvincingly states he has two faces and “Blurry’s the one [he’s] not.” It would be a disheartening way to end the album, but about three-fourths of the way through, the song begins to pick up with Joseph repeating “Don’t let me be gone” before exploding into a cacophony of guitars and drums with Joseph screaming above it all, proving to everyone, and himself, he won’t give up. He’ll keep fighting his demons and his listeners can fight theirs too.
4.6/5
