Ivory by Omar Apollo
by Lana Fleischli
You know those albums that you don’t realize have a long-lasting impact on you– until you do realize have a long-lasting impact on you? For me, one of those albums is Ivory by Omar Apollo. It came out April 8th, 2022. I remember listening to it the day it came out in an uber on my way to a funeral. I had listened to some of Apollo’s music in the past, but I didn’t know too much about him. I remember liking the album, and specifically the shock I felt when I heard “Tamagotchi” for the first time. It felt so wildly different from the rest of the album. At first I couldn’t even tell if I liked the song, but I kept thinking about it, and playing it for my friends– seeing what their reaction was to this song.
A couple of weeks later, I went to Coachella and saw Omar Apollo play. At this point, “Tamagotchi” had been playing on my Spotify nonstop. Seeing him live verified how much I liked his music.
“Tamagotchi” became a staple song for my friend group in high school, and over time, so did the rest of Ivory. That summer, my friend and I listened to some of the more upbeat songs on the album daily. It became part of our routine every time we saw each other to listen to “No Good Reason” or “Go Away.” And as our senior year of high school rolled around, so did the deluxe version of Ivory, Ivory (Marfil). Those four extra songs struck something within me.
After Ivory (Marfil) came out, I started listening to more of the sad songs on the album intently. “Archetype” and “Personally” have always hit very intensely for me. They are like two sides of a story. If “Archetype” is about longing for that one person, and thinking that there will never be anyone who can better match you than that, then “Personally” is about putting yourself first and stepping back when a relationship isn’t working. Omar Apollo talks about heartache in a way that stings. You can’t tell if you want to sing along or just cry. (I have done both with “Evergreen”).
I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about “Evergreen.” It is the most popular song off the album. The reason for which is simple: Omar Apollo captures longing, heartbreak, and insecurity in a vulnerable and beautiful way. He doesn’t sugarcoat or make metaphors about it. He writes it as it is. It’s not for everybody– many people love a deeper meaning– but I love how Apollo can write things as they are, and still make it into a heartbreaking ballad. It is a real skill to write this way, sans fluff, knowing that the person will likely hear this and know it’s about them, and still be brutally honest with yourself and the rest of the world. It could have gone so many ways, luckily for Apollo, “Evergreen” became a song that resonated with listeners everywhere.
Anyway, after high school, Ivory stopped being on repeat for me, but every once in a while, I would randomly stumble upon it again– even just to hear one song– and then I’d move on. Omar Apollo released another album, God Said No, in 2024. After I listened to it, I went back to Ivory. Thus the cycle continues. Each time I have come back to listen to Ivory, I go to a different song, which is unusual for me. With albums I go back to, I often go back to the main song that got me hooked in the first place, but not with this album. Each time I have gone back to Ivory, the reasoning could be totally different, and even though three years isn’t that long, a lot has changed for me since April of 2022, and so has the way I interact with Ivory.
At 17, the way I listened to this album was different than how I now listen to it at 20. The meanings change, but the depth of the music has remained the same. I’m writing this now because three days ago, I decided to re-listen to Ivory (Marfil) on a whim (again). As I sang along to the songs, I noticed how the songs made me feel now, and how they made me feel then. When I awoke this morning, I realized that I haven’t given Ivory the flowers it so deserves. So that’s what I’m doing now.