I used to listen to Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots by The Flaming Lips pretty often when I was a young hipster kid with a record player. The vinyl was bubble-gum pink, the theme really feels like it should be a Studio Ghibli movie: too much weight placed on the shoulders of a strong yet vulnerable protagonist, slightly otherworldly, cute tropes turned on their head (like, “she’s strong, she’s got this!”).

Nirvana’s In Utero feels like a series of meditations on reluctant parenthood by a depressed/suicidal person. I can’t imagine how Frances feels when she turns on the radio and hears Pennyroyal Tea or Rape Me. The poor thing is even named after a mental health tragedy.

Bowie gave us a perfect death album in Blackstar.