Much Ado About Album Sequencing
Occasionally, in the wild world of tunes, tones, and tempos, there comes a song that strikes the deepest parts of our souls. Many stars have to line up for that to happen. One of those majestic sky-babies made of ether and hot gas is a process that artists tend to put a lot of thought into. A process that people may not even fully pay attention to. They call it ‘Album Sequencing’.
This is a concept I briefly tuned up my timpani to as 2025 came to a close (using Givēon’s latest album as an example) but let’s dive into it a little more for curiosity’s sake. “Why do I feel a certain way when this song comes on?” “Is listening to heartbreak music supposed to make me feel better?” “That sounded off-key? Was it? Was it done on purpose? Why?”
Before all that… take this tiny disclaimer for the words & thoughts you’re reading:
I am but one genome in the cellular makeup of Pangea’s babies. These thoughts are of my own and representative of my perspective but maybe we see eye-to-eye somewhere. And I was in drumline/percussion my senior year of high school, lauded at graduation for my efforts as “most improved” + “rookie of the year” by the end of my brief (but fun) time there. So apply all this to everything you’re about to read in this compilation of words. Press play on the playlist above for full immersion and let’s feel some stuff together.
What is ‘Album Sequencing’, you ask? In basic English: crafting the order by which the songs play on a project/playlist/body of work. Whether it’s decided by the artist, the executive producer, the label, or a combination of the three, it’s that list of songs flowing in order from start to finish. Why does this matter? Well, think of it like scenes to a film. Think of it like chapters to a book. Think of it like colors to a painting. It’s a painstaking part of the experience that can elevate a body of work from good to great to a masterpiece. Or even do the opposite if a project is too disjointed.
When I brought this article idea up to a few TDN team members, Britt came through with a perfect example that she and her collaborators spoke of at a monthly event series she conducts. In an interview Erykah Badu had with The Fader, the conversation was brought up of how the first run of CDs for “Mama’s Gun” came with an apology note because she made last minute changes, so the tracklist in the physical lining didn’t match what the CD was playing. But what was so important that she HAD to make these changes? The original order would’ve had “Hey Sugah” as the intro then continuing from there + another song that was scrapped from the project entirely. That’s a different vibe. And to follow up “Baduizm”?? Eyes and ears are piqued.
Let’s recall the book analogy. The first chapter being “Booty” vs “Penitentiary Philosophy”? Then “Kiss Me On My Neck” vs “Didn’t Cha Know”? “Green Eyes” not being the final chapter and instead being in the middle of the book? Different worlds. If you take anything from this, it’s exactly this part of the game: if you flip an album on its head, you’re going to feel/hear it differently. Hence why it’s encouraged to hear an album in order on the first run through. Not jumping to a feature you see on track 7. Not throwing it on shuffle. But pressing play and listening to the project as intended.
Which brings us to the playlist above. The literal first note, first few seconds, are meant to disarm your nerves. The nostalgic undertone those rich drum hits bring. The peaceful groove that can best be described as easy-listening while taking a Southern stroll in nature. The breathy falsetto to start too? The brain we have is literally wired to find those appealing and even exciting. Like, I’m talking actual biology. To then go from “What About Me?” to “Miss My Baby” and even a step further to “Oscillate”, we live in that high vocal range and big moments from the instruments. There’s also a narrative being painted of coping with an uncertain relationship whom you still crave for regardless. All these things matter.
Sequencing can also be intentionally dissonant as much as it can be harmonious. Like going from “Punk Rocky” to “Chicago”, which may seem a bit of both at face value. You get upbeat Indie-Alternative Rock adjacent next to upbeat R&B vibes. But “Punk Rocky” nails the narrative of wanting to fall in love, real love, for who A$AP Rocky is, and how sometimes the jokes on you. Followed by “Chicago” in which Michael Jackson whispers about a tale in which he was unknowingly the sidepiece in a woman’s failing marriage. Similar themes, tempos are also similar, and both have extravagant highs in which the artist matches the beat’s peaks to war-cry through the pain.
It’s a science and at the same time a feeling. Maybe the next song calls back to lyrics in the previous one. Or maybe we hit similar drum patterns to establish a certain heartbeat in that particular section. Or maybe the project is intentionally split in half, whether to hold a sound or certain narrative. Or in our Hip-Hop world, multiple artists working on one project and just … literally splitting them, a la “SR3MM” or “Speakerboxxx/The Love Below”.
I could ramble on but I encourage you to explore this on your own! Ask an artist friend (we all know someone). Or even hit your favorite album up and dissect it a bit. What if track 8 was track 1? How does it sound if you made a playlist of it in order but without the songs you hate? How about only the songs you hate? How often do you even listen to an album from start to finish and not just a couple singles/faves? Did you notice one song fading out versus another cutting abruptly to the next?
Since you made it this far, here are some related videos of:
Hov talking about album sequencing
Tyler, The Creator waxing poetic about “Don’t Tap The Glass” and other stuff
Have fun!