Oh, Anberlin.

One of the bands that I’ve seen live an embarrassing amount of times. One of the bands that forever reminds me that you can take the girl out of the suburbs, but you can’t take the suburbs out of the girl. One of those bands that feels like it really shouldn’t exist—like if you blended up Fall Out Boy with a Christian Youth Pastor.

All the parts alone add up to nothing. The lyrics don’t always make sense, grammatically. The sound doesn’t always go anywhere new. And yet, Anberlin was an amazing band.

One of the fun consequences of driving a literal grandma car that only plays audio CDs is that I’ve been digging deep into my collection from high school and college.

Cities is one of those albums.

I still remember when Cities was released. It was the year I turned 21, and I was sharing an apartment with 3 friends. I had my own room, and papered the wall with magazine cutouts. Anberlin had caught my ear with “Glass to the Arson,” and I’d heard they were releasing an album soon.

Even from the first listen, I knew I was listening to something special. Cities isn’t a concept album, but it takes you on a journey. Each song leads perfectly into the next—bookended by an intro and an exit—in a way that weaves a really great spell. There’s a mix of yell-at-the-top-of-your-lungs choruses with completely incomprehensible verses (I still can’t figure some of the words out, even after 12 years).

I’ve been listening to Cities in my car this week, and it brings back so many memories. My college crush. Warped tour. Driving at night to visit my best friend. Going to the weirdest concert I’ve ever attended, one of Anberlin’s last, full of people who never go to shows. The week I listened to “Pray Tell” on repeat during grad school.

I’m glad that Anberlin exists. I’m glad that Cities exists.

And I’m especially glad that Cities sounds just as good in 2019 as it did in 2007.