At 42, I like to think I’ve worn many hats. After my dad passed, I stepped up to run the family business with my brother. I care for my mom, play in a weekend band, write for this publication, and co-host a podcast. But part of me wonders if I’m hiding behind responsibilities. What about my failures? I’ve always dreamed of working in music production, becoming a professional photographer, or maybe screenwriting. But those dreams never materialized and likely never will. It’s like they were characters I tried to become. Without them, who am I?
That question hit me hard when listening to The Crux by Djo. Is Joe Keery asking the same thing about his life?
At 32 years old, he’s seemingly mastered two of his passions: acting and music. While most know him as Steve Harrington, the once-unlikable jock turned selfless hero on the Netflix series Stranger Things, Keery now makes waves in music. As the show nears its final season, his musical alter ego, Djo, has skyrocketed into the mainstream. His track, “End of The Beginning,” has not only gone viral, but it’s even cracked the top 25 on the Billboard Hot 100.
While the balance act between professions is far more common than it used to be, one has to wonder what it does to the identity of an artist. “I swear I’ve had this dinner before. I know I’ve heard that song. My future’s not what I thought. I think I thought it wrong.” Joe Keery casually mumbles these lines in the pre-chorus of album opener, “Lonesome Is A State of Mind.” On the surface, his delivery echoes that of Julian Casablancas, but for me, those words hit hard. It’s a personal connection, sure, but something deeply vulnerable in Keery’s voice feels more bittersweet than he lets on. That underlying sense of secret longing serves as a recurring motif woven through the entire project.
Even in the upbeat “Link,” Keery questions his accolades, albeit in an anthemic manner. The same could be said for “Basic Being Basic.” The song clearly takes digs at society’s obsession with body dismorphia and being popular. However, one could only reach that conclusion if they’ve experienced the glitz and glam long enough to see the cracks in the foundation.
Sonically speaking, The Crux wears its influences on its sleeve in both production and arrangements.
The album features subtle nods to The Cars, T-Rex, Fleetwood Mac, and Tame Impala. More obvious influences from The Beatles and The Strokes create a diverse musical mix. “Charlie’s Garden” echoes Sgt. Pepper, while the guitar solo in “Back On You” brings to mind Steely Dan. It’s clear that Keery’s musical taste is both eclectic and expansive. But despite these influences, nothing feels derivative or forced. Djo isn’t a vanity project for a bored actor but a genuine extension of an artist’s creativity.
The most powerful moments of the album come in its emotionally charged tracks. In “Fly,” the protagonist grapples with the allure of comfort in a toxic relationship. “Golden Line” soars as a ballad celebrating the beauty of unconditional love, be it from a parent, sibling, or partner. The emotion is amplified by a choir and Brian Wilson-inspired production. The title track ties it all together, blending ELO-style instrumentation with a sense of heartfelt resolution.
From a TV star and viral sensation to a successful indie artist, Joe Keery has worn a few hats himself.
The difference lies in how the songs come from someone who recognizes the burdens of identity, responsibility, and success. I was reminded of the questions I’ve often asked myself, principally, “Who am I beyond the roles I’ve taken on?” Right now, I’m paying my bills, but I no longer know what it means to own a business in this financial climate. What lies beyond the things I’ve failed to accomplish? My podcast is on an extended hiatus, and who knows how much longer people will read album reviews. Throughout The Crux, Keery opens up about the struggles, the longing, and the fleeting nature of dreams. He offers a raw, honest reflection that resonates with anyone who has ever wondered, “What’s next?”
The Crux isn’t just an album—it’s a snapshot of an artist embracing his complexity and searching for meaning. In that search, Keery has crafted a piece of art that speaks to the human condition. His songs remind us all that finding ourselves can often mean confronting our uncertainties and embracing both our triumphs and failures.
The Crux is currently available at djomusic.com