In many ways, “Black Parade,” the surprise single Beyoncé released on the night of Juneteenth, is a consistent extension of Homecoming and auxiliary projects EVERYTHING IS LOVE (2018) and The Lion King: The Gift (2019), where celebrating Blackness and Black sounds were main concerns. But, here, everything is better. Her vocal is an elastic, shapeshifting thing that deftly switches between different flows and melodies. Her music is swelling, polyrhythmic, and lovely, anchored somewhere between the HBCU marching band tradition of Homecoming and the thrilling diasporic sounds of The Gift. Her words are sharp and vibrant and continue to tell stories of community, self-love, spirituality and powerfully affirm that the color of her skin is the source of her worth.
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“Black Parade” by Beyoncé
Flamagra by Flying Lotus: Review
Flying Lotus lays serious claim to one of the greatest musicians of the 2010s, and you could reasonably argue that any of his albums are his magnum opus: the glitchy Los Angeles released before the new decade, the psychedelic journey through digitized space of Cosmogramma, You’re Dead! seemed to update 70s’ jazz fusion into the modern era. (I’m team Cosmogramma, personally.) On records like these, he showed that different genres could, not just live side-by-side with one another, but very easily be blended together; I think about the seemingly non-jokey scat-intro of “Do the Astral Plane” as the best example. Also, as grand-nephew of Alice Coltrane, his glitchy beats have gotten jazzier over-time, from enlisting Ravi Coltrane (John Coltrane’s son) on Cosmogramma to the venerable Herbie Hancock on You’re Dead!. It’s all gotten to the point where he defies easy genre capsulation. And that’s without mentioning his other projects, from mentoring Thundercat (he helps produce much of Thundercat’s discography) to his Odd Future-influenced alter-ego Captain Murphy to loose beats here and there, including the opening track to Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly. As far as I’m concerned, Flying Lotus’ hyper-digital realizations of J Dilla soul and Madlib’s wonky beats was one of the best ideas anyone’s had this decade.
Father of the Bride by Vampire Weekend
Vampire Weekend are a tuneful band with rhythms that trace back to Paul Simon and Peter Gabriel’s albums of 1986, themselves tracing back to different genres within African music, and I found their first two records easily likable for those reasons. Their third record, Modern Vampires of the City, felt way more than just ‘likable’, and even back then I remember thinking the leap from the humbler Contra to MVotC felt comparable to Radiohead’s leap from The Bends to OK Computer. More electronic flourishes, from pitch-shifted vocals (“Diane Young”) to electronic drums (“Bicycle”) helped distinguish songs, but even better was the unexpected shifts within songs, like the climax of “Hannah Hunt” or the Rolling Stones-referencing bridge of “Ya Hey.” Their lyrics got headier too, with Hannah Hunt tearing the New York Times to pieces or “I hummed the Dies Irae as you played the Hallelujah,” which, in combination with the cover, reminded me of the uncertainties explored by Simon and Garfunkel on Bookends. I eagerly waited for their next release. (more…)
CrasH Talk by ScHoolboy Q
After the breakthrough of Section.80, 2012 was definitely the year of the Black Hippy crew, with the excellent releases of Ab-Soul’s Control System, Kendrick Lamar’s good kid, m.A.A.d. city and ScHoolboy Q’s Habits & Contradictions. Each rapper was so different in voice, flow and subject matter that it was fun for me to conceptualize them: Jay Rock as the gangsta, Ab-Soul as the intellectual, Kendrick Lamar as speaker for generation Y (or maybe just “human motherfucking being over dope-ass instrumentation”) and ScHoolboy Q as party animal. As the decade progressed, some of these have dropped off, especially in the case of Ab-Soul who failed to capitalize on the heady wordplay demonstrated on songs like “Terrorist Threats” or “ILLuminate” or even the (ahem) soulful “The Book of Soul.” Meanwhile, Jay Rock has yet to deliver a full-length that demands attention all the way through. ScHoolboy Q, who I would’ve argued was potentially the least interesting of these four from a rapping perspective back in 2014, has only proven himself again and again. 2014’s Oxymoron, his major record debut, had a lot of songs that were a (successful) bid to go big: “Collard Greens,” “What They Want,” “Hell of a Night,” “Man of the Year,” but it also had some of his most interesting beats (ie. “Studio,” the sex joint that’s way too dark to function as such) and rapping yet (ie. “Prescription / Oxymoron”). (more…)
Remember When: you listened to music standing still
At one of the first shows I ever attended unaccompanied by an adult, Warped Tour in Cleveland, I found myself at a rousing Motion City Soundtrack performance. The energy of their performance reached a fever pitch, and the crowd began moshing. As one of my introductory experiences to live music, Warped Tour demonstrated to me that one of live music’s key elements involves audience response. If the crowd expresses discontent, the show resonates with it. One of the (seemingly) clear indicators of such discontent is a stationary crowd, unable to be persuaded to even sway to the sound.
With the rise of smartphones and tighter performance spaces, a motionless audience has become more and more the norm. For many performances, this stillness dampens the mood and forces acts to rouse them. I once saw Little Simz years ago restart her entrance at the Echo because the crowd failed to match her energy. I personally love to move, and live music provides an excellent outlet for such activity. Seeing a crowd remain still while an artist pours their soul out usually makes for a boring, if awkward, situation.
Furthermore, standing idly to music feels a bit unnatural – iPods allowed us to play music while we work, work out, cook, clean, commute, literally any activity. Music, for a long time now, feels like something meant to enhance action, be it dancing, work, or travel. But at a Hop Along and Soccer Mommy performance at LA’s El Rey Theatre last night, I remembered the pleasures of idle listening. (more…)
Let’s Try the After Vol. 2 by Broken Social Scene
As a Canadian, and specifically, as a Canadian that was in university during indie rock’s last gasp (2009-2012, the years of Animal Collective, Phoenix and M83, among others), Broken Social Scene was pretty much everywhere. And what’s particularly interesting about Broken Social Scene is that their early work, from K.C. Accidental’s debut album through breakthrough You Forgot It In People, is that they sounded unique despite co-founder Kevin Drew’s rather non-descript voice. They are, of course, a collective, and their early music sounded like that: You Forgot It In People contained post-rock climaxes (“KC Accidental”), touching ballads (“Lover’s Spit,” “I’m Still Your Fag”), anthemic rock songs (“Almost Crimes,” “Cause = Time”), and the indescribable “Anthems For a Seventeen Year-Old Girl,” the most unlikely of songs to act as an album centerpiece or would come to remain their most treasured song. I like their self-titled album quite a bit, but what made You Forgot It In People special in the indie market got traded for a more stream-lined approach, with more ‘proper’ songs and less instrumentals, and they sounded less like a collective and more like Kevin Drew and friends, and this continued through to Forgiveness Rock Record. (more…)
Remember When: Pop Music Felt Simpler And Happier
I go to tons of concerts and understand that most tend to veer on the positive side. An act fulfilling their musical dreams in front of a crowd who loves them for it – there are few other experiences which feel so communally enjoyable. As with everything, some do this better than others, and singer Jess Glynne did so at LA’s Wiltern Theatre. Admittedly, when a friend invited me along to the show, I worried she wouldn’t be all that thrilling.
When it comes to Jess Glynne, the material is positive and extremely accessible. Her song titles make their meanings more than obvious, and their gospel qualities ensure that they will bang but not necessarily bite. She’s not known for expansive choreography and a Justice-style laser light show never seemed like an option either. Instead of focusing on her better qualities such as her voice or honesty, I concerned myself with possible shortcomings. I soon learned what a miscalculation I had made. I love an intricate, thought-provoking performance a la FKA Twigs as much as the next person, but sometimes it refreshes the soul to watch a bit of no-nonsense, feel-good music. (more…)
A Long Red Hot Los Angeles Summer Night by Blu & Oh No
Like many other traditionalists, Blu is guilty of being born in the wrong decade, although perhaps ‘traditionalist’ sells the underground rapper short. To wit, 2011’s NoYork! was one of the most exciting left-turns in hip-hop this decade, finding Blu rapping over glitchy beats from Flying Lotus and Knxwledge. In a way, NoYork! predicted Mac Miller’s Watching Movies with the Sound Off or Flying Lotus’ alter-ego Captain Murphy’s Duality, to say nothing that four years later, Kendrick Lamar would hook up with those producers on To Pimp a Butterfly. No, Blu’s biggest fault is his defiance: after creating his own Blueprint on breakthrough Below the Heavens, his discography has been almost impossible to follow, with feints (the Madlib-produced UCLA that Madlib denies being involved in), and jabs when they should’ve been uppercuts (releasing proper follow-up Give Me My Flowers While I Can Sell Them unmastered on bandcamp or leaking NoYork! himself). (more…)
The Black Album by Weezer
So, I mean, this album isn’t dark. Like at all. There is a histrionic song about cake. And it starts with “doo doo doo doo’s”. It has almost the exact same riff as “Beautiful” by Moby, a song I almost guarantee you have never heard. The song is called “Piece of Cake” and it’s about a specific woman’s ability to break Rivers’ heart and drugs inability to change that. It’s also about the popular soft drink Sprite, or something. Its many things, but it isn’t dark. (more…)
The Teal Album by Weezer
Do you think Rivers even knows if he is joking anymore? Must have been around the time he wore a cowboy hat on the cover of his record or maybe when he let Dwight Schrute name his new album? I don’t know, but he is so steeped in irony that he probably thinks this paragraph is a compliment. (more…)