Let me preface this post by telling you that I don’t hate all follow-up albums — just the majority of them, and the process they promote. So many are uninspired, vain attempts at recreating the initial success, or sustaining the buzz that an artist has gotten.
That being said, follow-up albums don’t just tend to suck — most of them are doomed to do it. Consider this scenario:
You and a bunch of friends work on a project together, and make something original that blows everyone’s mind away… Or at least gets them talking.
Sounds great! Whoever saw the project (a client, a teacher, your parents) loves it, and the accolades just keep coming in. Why shouldn’t you repeat the process and make another one?
The answer is simple:
Repetitive situations drive repetitive work.
Think about it. If you don’t take the time to learn, grow, and ultimately find new influences/ideas, your next project is likely going to be a rehash of the first one. And how will that keep up your reputation as a team (or band) that “makes something original and blows everyone’s mind away”?
Simply, it won’t. There are a couple of ways to avoid this, though:
Option 1: Find “someone else”
Wolf Parade (among many other bands) did this, and for anyone who’s been lucky enough to hear their new material (only at live shows, folks) can attest to how powerful this can be. Many of the members have been exploring their creativity with side projects: Sunset Rubdown, The Handsome Furs, and Swan Lake have not only been great in their own right, but have pushed Wolf Parade’s sound even further. You can also get a similar “someone else” effect by adding — or removing — some people from the band’s lineup. Just try not to keep everything you do creatively restricted to the same people — otherwise, you won’t be exposed to anyone else’s views or ideas.
Option 2: Find “somewhere else”
I love Sufjan Stevens‘ musical project: to make an album for each of the American States. Not only is it incredibly ambitious, but it drives an original sound: if you’ve ever listened to Greetings From Michigan The Great Lake State and Come On, Feel The Illinoise back to back, you’ll notice two things. First, Sufjan is an incredibly talented songwriter and composer. Second, though, the albums, both great in their own right, just feel different.
Option 3: Take your time (but not too much time)
This one is probably the trickiest to follow “to the letter.” How much time is enough? My answer is: a band shouldn’t let external influences dictate how soon they need to come out with new material. John Darnielle’s streak of recent releases, all within a year or so of each other, haven’t really suffered. Contrarily, there were 3 years between Jens Lekman’s most recent release and the original one before it (2005’s Oh You’re So Silent, Jens was a re-release of earlier and live material). So long as a band isn’t stifling its creativity by forcing new work out prematurely, and similarly isn’t sitting around lazily just waiting for the inspiration to come, that should be long enough to promote some great artistry.
And now, for fun, a list:
Some follow-ups I’ve loved:
- Sufjan Stevens‘ Come On, Feel The Illinoise
- Jens Lekman’s Night Falls Over Kortedala
- The Mountain Goats‘ Heretic Pride
- Generally anything done in the Beatles’ later career.
Some follow-ups I’ve hated:

April 8, 2008 at 7:30 am |
Man wasn’t More Fish more of a collection of B-sides and leftovers rather than a follow-up proper?
And as for In Our Bedroom… most of the songs were ‘enh’ to me but Take Me to the Riot and the title track were both the sweet hotness and if you disagree you’re crazy.
April 8, 2008 at 12:12 pm |
From the places I’ve looked at, I can’t find anything confirming or denying the “More Fish as B-sides” theory. If it is or it isn’t, though, his career wouldn’t have suffered had he not released it — perhaps it would have been even a little bit better.
And yes, I do agree, there are a couple of great tracks on In Our Bedroom. I realize only now that my post about the “Artistry of an Album” should have come before this, if only to make it clear that a couple of good tracks don’t make/save an album.
On most crappy albums, there is, admittedly, a good/impressive track or two. Thanks for pointing that out, Alex!