The Crux (Deluxe) by Djo // Album Review
The newly expanded version of Djo's The Crux is more than just a regular deluxe album. As a whole, these additional twelve songs give so much more insight into the journey he took while writing this album and all of the different directions he could've taken with it narratively. The Crux (Deluxe) is more so a companion project of songs that were written during the same creative period as the rest of The Crux, but didn't make the initial cut. That said, they don't feel like leftovers. Each track is truly like a natural expansion of the time in his life that inspired this music, and collectively, they feel like a culmination of some of the more unhinged parts of himself that he had to work through to arrive at the final version of The Crux. From working through the early aftermath and heartache of a breakup, to navigating some of the darker parts of fame, virality and newfound pressures of the music industry that he experienced when making this album throughout 2024, he delves into some of his deepest thoughts with unflinching honesty and vulnerability. Both parts of The Crux take the listener on such a beautiful journey of rediscovery and experimentation with so many different sounds and influences being merged throughout.
Djo is the musical pseudonym for actor Joe Keery, who is best known for his work in Stranger Things. He first released music under Djo (pronounced the same as his first name) in 2019 with his debut album, Twenty Twenty. The decision to create under a stage name allowed him to separate his acting career from his music, encouraging listeners to approach his projects without any preconceived notions or expectations. His first two albums, Twenty Twenty and DECIDE, were mostly made at home alongside his close friend and frequent collaborator Adam Thein. Together, they crafted deeply personal records that were bold, experimental and introspective. With the creation of The Crux, they decided to largely take a more analog approach by working almost exclusively in professional studio, with the iconic Electric Lady Studios in New York City serving as the backdrop of all 24 tracks that collectively make up The Crux.
"Music has always been a way for me to wrestle with things going on in my own life and speak them into the universe so I can listen back and try to make sense of them," Joe wrote in an Instagram caption alongside the surprise release of the deluxe album. "It's not so much a double album but an expansion of the world of The Crux that stands on its own as a unique body of work, and lemme tell ya it was fun to get back in the saddle and finish these off with my friends. To go back to Electric Lady and see these through was a real highlight of the year full of highlights."
The deluxe songs off of the album largely serve as sort of a prelude to the rest of the standard version. Even the sequencing of the new twelve songs being positioned before the standard version of the album on streaming services feels symbolic of the way it was intended to be listened to. Along with the progression of the album cover as well, signaling the transition from the darkness and desolation of the night, to the bright, bustling city street in the daytime. The Crux follows Joe dealing with a lot of change in his life; coming off of the end of a long-term relationship, moving to a new city, and facing major career changes. As much as the music symbolized the end for many chapters in his life, it also really embraced all that was to come in a beautiful and hopeful way. With it overall being a breakup album, he definitely took a very sweet and wholesome approach with so much of it. The overarching theme of not wanting to look back in anger at those that may have wronged you, instead embracing and celebrating the family and friends that have been with you through it all is at the heart of everything on The Crux. Songs like "Back on You" and "Lonesome Is A State of Mind" are just two moments on the standard album that best represent that healed mindset that so much of the album was written from.
But to get to that point of wanting to move forward with grace, he had to work through a lot of other emotions that were more representative of that inner turmoil he was facing in the process of making the album. It's rare for an artist to release an album that is as incredible and detailed in terms of storytelling as The Crux is in the first place, but for him to do it all over again with the unexpected release of the deluxe version, that by all accounts feels like another full-length album set in the same universe as the original, is a testament to how singular Joe and his collaborators are in their artistry.
"T. Rex Is Loud" was originally written during the sessions for his sophomore album DECIDE, but as the opening track of the deluxe edition, it seems to have been reshaped sonically to better fit the atmosphere of The Crux. As an opener, it's a powerful introduction to this universe, immediately pulling listeners into its energy. The song is inspired by the band T. Rex and its guitarist Marc Bolan. A central theme of this album's recording process for Joe was reconnecting with the rock influences of his teenage years, returning back to the music he grew up with and still finds solace in. That pursuit culminates here in a really powerful way, as it feels like an embrace of those formative sounds. "Hey, it's been too long, nice to hear you," he sings in the opening lines. "What a song? And, man, it's worth the wait, please turn me up, I need this my way."
The entirety of The Crux feels like his way of turning back to the music that shaped him at a young age and hoping it will help guide him now and give him a sense of direction in this transitional period of his life. The chorus is such a celebratory homage, "T. Rex is loud, Bolan figured it out, ten to seven. I hear that sound, my feet leavin’ the ground, I'm in heaven" and ends the track with the vulnerable plea of "please tell me that things get easier".
The album then moves into "Love Can't Break the Spell", which is a vulnerable moment of Joe trying to process the final breaking point of the relationship that is at the core of this album. "We had such a pretty thing, life was on a string, why, when you look back do you look past the bad? I know I do, I think you do, hard not to do," he sings in the fourth verse. He goes through all of the layers of sadness, anger and feelings of betrayal through this song, but also acknowledging that he was able to come out on the other side of this heartache too.
"I'm better without you no more, took some time to realize and get right out the door," he sings in the chorus. "So, see ya later, live and be well, I salute the time we had, but love can't break the spell". The sentiment of telling someone you once loved, someone that used to be such a huge part of your life but isn't any longer, to "live and be well" is truly as beautiful as it is heartbreaking. It can also be applied to so many different situations and relationships in life. It reminds me of "Fly" in that way - the act of choosing not to look back in anger, but instead to move on and wish someone well despite how it ended, is such a powerful perspective to write from.
His persistence to work through all of the heavy, sometimes conflicting, emotions that came with this relationship ending runs through the majority of the 24 songs that collectively make up The Crux. On the deluxe edition, songs like "Carry The Name" and "It's Over" mirror much of the same sentiments expressed in the first part of the album. Not wanting to hold any grudges, instead taking the lessons learned from the experience and trying to move forward, is at the heart of many of these tracks.
"Is it all the same?" becomes a recurring question he asks himself throughout both halves of the record, first on the opener "Lonesome Is A State of Mind", and later on "Carry The Name", threading itself through the emotional fabric of the album. "Try not to blame, carry the name," he sings in the chorus, his voice layered over an acoustic, 70s-inspired arrangement that feels both nostalgic and raw. "And rejection's a new way to new love," reframes this heartbreak not as a dead end, but as a path forward. "It's Over" similarly marks the end of this chapter of his life, still grappling with the weight of loss, but also the acceptance that it's time to finally let go. The pain isn't resolved entirely, as he continues to open up about throughout the rest of The Crux, but it does offer some sense of closure in the way that he is acknowledging that healing is less about forgetting and more about carrying with you the lessons learned. "It's Over" also features a voicemail from an unnamed woman toward the end, which is reminiscent of "Cherry" by Harry Styles. It brings the emotions he's been exploring to the forefront in a raw, immediate way, offering another perspective that deepens the intimacy of the record.
Alongside the heartfelt, emotional moments of The Crux (Deluxe), there's also a distinct edge and grit running through many of these songs that reveals another side of Djo and the influences he draws from artistically. The deluxe feels a lot more experimental and unfiltered, with flashes of humor woven throughout. His lyricism here is sharp and clever, yet simultaneously thought‑provoking, balancing wit with genuine introspection. It's built on the same restless energy that fueled a track like "Basic Being Basic", except this time he fully goes there with it.
"Mr. Mountebank" is one of the highlights of the deluxe for that reason. He goes fully Djo XCX on it, diving into a wild and abrasive hyperpop sound that's completely different from anything he's made before. It offers a sharp commentary on fame and virality, especially in the wake of his music receiving more attention than ever after the organic success of "End of Beginning" in early 2024, right at the time he was making this record. There's a clear tension between staying true to your art and resisting the pressure to sell out for a quick cash grab, a conflict that resonates not only with him as a musician, but also with his massive success as an actor as well.
"Long game class acts never fail," is a lyric that really stands out as being representative of Djo's ethos as an artist and the intent he has behind the work he puts out. "Wait your turn, the gift's the time it takes," he later sings. He shares his unflinchingly honest perspective and takes an unhinged approach to both the writing and performance, with so many genuinely funny and memorable lyrics throughout.
The production is also chaotic in the best way. It is very maximalist, but beneath the noise lies a surprising amount of depth too. Every lyric feels intentional, even when delivered with humor or absurdity. That balance between the outrageous and the profound is what makes "Mr. Mountebank" one of the most compelling songs of his career.
"Is the big life lucky? Yeah, is that what you want? Are the crusts cut, buddy? Complain? Yeah, things are too hard?" he asks in the second verse, skewering entitlement and privilege with biting sarcasm. Lines like "Does the gold spoon do it the same or was silver enough? Can a brick wall listen because I’ve heard the chap chuff? It's too much" push it even further, blurring the line between comedy and critique. One of the wildest lyrics on the bridge is, "In a way, who's the cuck? If I watch a good thing getting fucked? Washed out glory hole, piss pot feeling like a jelly roll". His commitment to fully going there, leaning into bold, self‑aware satire that's hilarious on the surface yet deeply critical of the absurdities of fame as well.
He delves further into his thoughts on fame and the weight of other people's expectations on "They Don't Know What's Right". It is reminiscent of "Link", in that it's a playful rejection of feeling boxed in in his life, but now taking it even further and leaning into it with even more theatricality. "I'm just a joker? Well I'd rather be a joker than you," he sings. "I just don't care like they think I do!" Sonically, the track even flirts with a slight country and classic rock edge. The delivery is funny, exaggerated, and full of his personality, making it one of the most lively performances on the record.
"Grime Of The World" continues to carry that same edge and sharp cultural commentary. "Greed, in the name of the green is the grime of the world", he sings in the chorus. It's a track that takes a few listens to fully unpack the weight of the verses especially, which are again layered with satire and societal critiques. "Man's basic, I mean it, he's vacant, gone fishin'," he sings in the first verse. "Eve needs a replacement, how did he get so confident?" He's calling out system greed and the failures of patriarchal power structures, now asking "girls will you please take the wheel? 'Cause we're out of control". Sonically, the track pulls from the sounds of his debut Twenty Twenty and even some of the psychedelic grit of his work with Post Animal, grounded in a sound that is familiar yet fresh.
Djo continues to carry some of that same influence through on "Try Me", taking an even lighter, more playful turn. It's one of the most fun songs on the deluxe, almost reminiscent of "Gap Tooth Smile" in its flirty energy, while still holding onto the edge and attitude that runs through songs like "Mr. Mountebank" and "Grime of the World".
He shifts from cultural critique to something more personal, trying to convince a girl to let him love her. The delivery is cheeky and confident, paired with irresistibly catchy instrumentation and a deeper vocal register that adds weight to the playful lyrics. "You look back to this moment, conception of a rock and roll star," he sings in the second verse. "King's got a little thing for Queens, I'm searchin' for the great white whale, I'll be your co-star captain, trust me, I can fill your sails". By the outro, the refrain becomes more insistent. He sings, "Is he gonna love you like I would? You told me yourself that he didn't love you, that he didn't care, that he didn't notice, he wasn't there...Try me!" It's such a fun and bold song, fully allowing his charisma and humor shine through.
"Purgatory Silverstar" is another shining moment of the deluxe and a highlight of Djo's discography. The song's title and concept is so creative, with the track taking several twists and turns throughout. It's divided into three distinct sections that builds toward an explosive second half. It begins slowly, with a delicate delivery that immediately sets a reflective tone. "I knew a girl, she knocked at my door. Head in the clouds, feet off the floor, I knew a girl, she brought me life, back when the girl was mine," he sings in the opening lines, grappling with the end of a relationship and the feeling of being trapped in the same cycle of mourning something that no longer exists, while also feeling haunted by the sense that so much time was wasted. "It feels like a big waste of time, I don't seem to mind," he sings.
The second verse culminates into the song's core themes, tying together the emotional weight of The Crux as a whole. "This is Purgatory Silverstar, only me, myself, and radio," he sings. "Deep space, dеad weight, body-breaking lonelinеss". The way he depicts the raw isolation and emptiness he felt in the wake of this loss is devastatingly honest. It's a song that not only mourns the end of a relationship and the heartache that came along with it, but also acts a confrontation of the silence and introspection that follows a major life change like that.
The final verse slows back down to acoustic instrumentation, with lyrics that feel like a callback to "Potion", particularly the chorus: "I'll try for all of my life just to find someone who leaves on the light for me". Now, in the outro of "Purgatory Silverstar", he reframes that longing with a deeper sense of accountability, "I took it for granted, all that you do, coming up empty‑handed in a patchwork of truth, so, for the rest of my life, I'll pay my dues". He is now taking the pain and turning it into a promise to himself to allow this to be an opportunity for growth. Wanting to take the lessons of that relationship and use them to lead toward a better future is really the central moral of The Crux. The metaphor of "a hundred oysters for a single pearl" captures this beautifully. It is an acknowledgement of the frustration of searching, the countless experiences that may feel fruitless, and the enduring hope that something rare and meaningful will eventually emerge. Reframing the heartbreak, regret and loneliness of this time of his life into a step toward the possibility of something positive waiting on the other side is deeply representative of the album's larger message.
"Who You Are" was written a year in hindsight following the breakup, and it stands as one of the most honest reflections on the passage of time. It captures both the clarity that distance can bring and the lingering feelings that refuse to fade. The song holds out hope that time will eventually heal all wounds, while acknowledging the reality that healing is often slower and more complicated than expected. "Now that a year has passed between us, now that it's clear, I see inside, hurt doesn't fade, it always lingers, try to forget? I've tried," he sings in the opening verse. "So will I ever know the story? Hard to unsee the final score, what does it mean to love somebody? Can't say I'm really sure".
The track connects back to "Lonesome Is A State of Mind", with many lyrics mirroring each other with the focus shifting toward independence as a path to rediscovery. In the chorus, he admits, "Thought I couldn't live without you, but I was wrong and eventually, the clock was always gonna stop, and through it all, now you know, who you are". It's a moment of acceptance despite the pain, where the heartbreak becomes a catalyst for growth.
By the outro, he reframes the journey with a sense of resilience, "So, I'll just keep movin' on, don't forget where you've come from, reinvention fails the people who hide pain". It's a powerful closing sentiment, suggesting that true healing comes not from erasing the past but from carrying the lessons forward with honesty and vulnerability.
In an album full of unexpected turns and influences, one of the most interesting creative choices comes on the second‑to‑last track, "Thich Nhat Hanh". Named after the Vietnamese Buddhist monk, author, teacher, and peace activist who is credited with bringing mindfulness practices to the West, the song reflects the deep inspiration Joe drew from his work during the creation of this record.
It is mostly an ambient, meditative instrumental piece, yet he does deliver a few striking lines that anchor the intent of this song. He sings, "Carry on, when the song's just out of focus, light will never die". It's a moment that feels both grounding and transcendent, offering a sense of peace that contrasts beautifully with the chaos and emotional turbulence explored elsewhere on The Crux.
The deluxe album ends with "Awake", but in many ways it also represents a beginning. Just based on the sequencing of the deluxe and standard albums, with "Awake" leading directly into "Lonesome Is A State Of Mind" and the album covers depicting a shift from darkness into light, the symbolism is profound. The two covers mirror the journey at the heart of The Crux. One shows him alone at night gazing through a hotel window onto an empty street; the other transforms that same scene into daylight, now filled with a cast of characters from all walks of life. That visual shift reflects the music's arc. He's finally awake, and then he steps into "Lonesome Is A State Of Mind", which is a sequence that feels like the most beautiful way to close this chapter and move forward from anything that once held him back.
Musically, "Awake" is a major slow burn, drawing inspiration from grungy 90s sounds reminiscent of Nirvana, a song like "Heart Shaped Box" comes to mind as a point of reference. At the same time, the track echoes the modern classic "I Know The End" by Phoebe Bridgers, especially in the way it begins understated and gradually builds into something massive, unexpected, and far beyond where it started. The guitar, the drums, the vocals - all of it is so stunning and powerful. The way he continually yells "I'm awake" with increasing urgency feels like the culmination of everything this record has been leading toward. "Awake" is the unlocking of a part of himself he's been trying to crack open the entire time. It's one of the most powerful songs he's ever made, it's a true masterpiece and a testament to the depth and variety he pulls from as an artist.
Thanks for reading! Check out my in-depth review of the standard edition of The Crux, along with my review of DECIDE + limited edition Record Store Day exclusive vinyl. Many more are linked below and coming soon always!
Photo Credit: Djo, AWAL, Piers Grenan, Neil Krug
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