OPINION: The art of the outro

Editor's Note: The views and opinions expressed in this article do not reflect those of The Collegian.

Any good album tells a story. And if I’ve learned anything from my journalism classes this semester, it’s that the beginning and end of a story tell you what it’s really about. The ending should connect back to the beginning, creating a circular story arc. 

In music that ending is the outro. Outros are rarely the biggest hits; they’re intimate, reflective tracks where artists bare their souls to their fans, not the people shuffling through their top hits. Using some of the key tenets of storytelling, artists often save the rawest, most emotional, and most honest songs for the end. 

Khalid’s debut album, “American Teen,” begins with the sound of an alarm clock. One of the first albums I ever listened to in its entirety, it transports me to a day in my senior year of high school. The outro, “Angels,” is a gorgeous piano ballad. As it ends, the song slowly fades into that same alarm clock sound. The day starts over again. 

Kendrick Lamar does something similar on his 2017 Pulitzer-winning album, “DAMN.” In the outro, “DUCKWORTH.,” Kendrick tells the spellbinding story of his father and his mentor, Anthony “Top Dawg” Tiffith. At the end of the song, the entire album plays quickly in reverse before the first line of the title track is repeated: “So I was taking a walk the other day…” “DAMN.” takes us through Kendrick’s life, and this ending gives us the sensation of his life flashing before his eyes. By circling back to the beginning, the point of the story comes back into focus, and the end becomes all the more satisfying. 

A great outro gives musicians one last moment to tell you what their album’s really about and to get everything off their chest. After having our undivided attention for an hour, some artists desperately hold on to our attention, while others direct the last track toward their family, their friends, or even themselves instead of their fans.

 “So it Goes,” the final track on Mac Miller’s “Swimming,” is a perfect example of the former. After 12 songs and 53 minutes, Mac still has something to say; he reflects on his rise to fame, the consequences of his lifestyle, and his relationship with the public. “I’m still standing, sit down,” he tells us as synths grow louder and his voice grows quieter. He knows his time is up, but he’s not ready to let go. 

On the other hand, an outro can be a space for private, personal reflection. Frank Ocean’s outro to “Blonde,” “Futura Free,” is a song that doesn’t invite the listener to stay. “You could change this track now,” Frank says. By the fourth minute of the sprawling, beautiful 9-minute closer where Frank speaks to his mom and reflects on his old friendships, I feel like I’m interrupting something. Unlike Mac, Frank is ready for the end, and is happy to step down and out of the spotlight. “I’m just a guy, I’m not a god,” he tells us. As he closes out the album that would solidify him as a superstar, he brings himself back down to our level. 

Listening to albums is hard. By the middle of an hour-long record, it can become a slog. But the promise of an outro keeps me going; they round out the album and often turn out to be my favorite tracks. For me, good outros complete the listening experience, and make sitting through the whole album worth it. But if you’re short on time, take no shame in skipping to the last song. You won’t be disappointed. 

Contact writer Declan Devilbiss at declan.devilbiss@richmond.edu