Rufus Wainwright has been an artist that I have admired from afar for many year. I say afar, because while I have always appreciated him as an artist, I have not always cared for his art. That all changes for me with Out Of The Game, Wainwright's most straightforward effort to date. For almost two months now, I have been relishing every song on this album. Sounding like someone who's been spending time listening to classic mid-70's pop-rock albums by artists like Billy Joel, Wainwright has crafted a collection of timeless pop songs that are just so good. This is one of my favorite albums of the year so far.
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What I love about music is its power to transport me. Sometimes it’s unexpected, sometimes it’s exactly where I want to be. A single melody can unlock memories I didn’t realize I still carried, while certain chords or lyrics take me to another time or place. Some songs feel like home, offering shelter, while others deliver me to an unknown place or space, stirring emotions I can’t quite name. In this way, music isn’t just sound—it’s a sonic subway, delivering me to a station of refuge or one I never knew existed.
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