BEST AND WORST NEW TRACKS OF THE WEEK 08/04/2015: D.R.A.M, Tame Impala, Between The Buried And Me and more...

Eaten through all your Easter eggs already? Why not sweeten up your evening by listening to some of these new tunes. Avoid the last track though. It’ll leave a sour taste in your mouth.

THE BEST:

'Excessive' - D.R.A.M

D.R.A.M’s dreamy lyrics about money and bitches are made relatable by the fact that the Virginia hip hop artist doesn’t try to paint them as a reality. That being said, such as lifestyle is probably in his grasp if he continues to turn out these solid tracks. Even if you’re not feeling the lyrics, the wavy beat is definitely worth lending your ear to. Fans of his sound should check out his 2014 trap/latin banger ‘Cha Cha’.

'Cause I’m A Man' - Tame Impala

Kevin Parker sings about being a man. A manwoman? Take your pick. Either way Aussie indie rockers, Tame Impala, have me psyched with their new psychedelic sound. This might be a very /mu/ thing to say, but the groovy bass and plodding beat are almost vaporwave. 

'Memory Palace' - Between The Buried And Me

At first a metalcore band, BTBAM have slowly transformed over the years into a prog metal group, and now they’ve finally ended up as a pumped-up version of Dream Theater. The noodling and melodrama here is a bit over the top, but I can’t say I didn’t dig most of the riffs and the crazy na na na bit in the middle reminded me of something awesome Devin Townsend might do. A sense of humour is always welcome in prog. Nobody likes soulless guitar wankery.

'Helios' - Darius ft. Wayne Snow

French producer, Darius, drops this hypnotic r&b ballad featuring guest vocalist, Wayne Snow. If you could hear moonlight it would sound like this chord progression.

'Puppet' – Of Embla

It’s time to crack open the Martini. This smoky ballad from Swedish artist, Of Embla, could be the theme to a Bond movie. Apparently, Greece are playing it on commercial radio. The UK airwaves need to get their act together and follow suit.

THE WORST:

'Fresh Out' - French Montana

Overall, about as fresh as green bread. 

Review of 'The Powers That B' by Death Grips

The Californian experimental hip hoppers continue to push sonic boundaries on their supposedly final album, but is it an explosive enough ending to make up for their unpredictable and action-packed career?

When friends, family members and random elderly strangers in the street ask me why I like Death Grips, my response is usually something illogical and vague like ‘because they’re nuts’. The truth is, I’m not entirely sure myself as to why I love Death Grips. Their music is largely unmusical. Vocalist MC Ride sounds like a hobo whose stubbed his toe and even with a lyric sheet, it’s hard to make out whether he’s spurting out dense poetry or simply nonsense.

'I'm epiphanic amnesia! I'm in Jimmy Page's castle! I'm off the planet!' - MC Ride

In many ways, it is simply the mystery of not understanding Death Grips that is the appeal – that and the fact that their raw aggression is so primal and thrilling.

Last year, scrawled apathetically on the back of a napkin as is their style, the band announced their breakup, stating: ‘We are now at our best and so Death Grips is over’. Assuming it’s not just another publicity stunt, The Powers that B is the group’s final album.

Essentially it’s two records disguised as a double album. The first half, N****s on the Moon, was released before the band’s breakup and I rambled briefly about it on this blog. Having listened to it a few times, I’ve grown to appreciate it. It’s the band’s most proggy album yet, consisting of complex songs with changing time signatures, interspersed with random chopped-up Bjork vocals. MC Ride’s voice meanwhile is at its most clearest, whilst his lyrics are some of his most impenetrable: ‘melanin pewter cellophane/ arms as long as their legs/ even the greys can’t/ voila’.

The second part of The Powers that B was released a couple weeks ago and is titled Jenny Death. Unlike its counterpart, there’s less progginess, less word salad and less chopped-up Bjork vocals. In fact, the glitchy Bjork vocals have been traded in completely for a new motif – guitars. Many of the songs contain distorted hardcore punk riffs – namely ‘Turned Off’ and ‘Why a Bitch Got A Lie’. Whilst N****s on the Moon is the band’s proggiest release, Jenny Death can be viewed as their most punky.  

Prog and punk are essentially ying and yang musically – one celebrating depth and complexity, the other celebrating rawness and simplicity. Consequently, the two halves of The Powers That B don’t feel very cohesive as a whole. Maybe it was Death Grips’ intention to show how schizophrenic they can be stylistically. Personally, I feel I’m tempted to listen to one at a time rather than both as a whole, suggesting they should be two separate albums.

The album is certainly their most extreme work to date by all definitions of the word, which is something Death Grips have always tried to achieve with each release and hence would imply that this is a suitable finale to their career. The title track, ‘The Powers that B’, is their loudest and most abrasive banger since the opener to Government Plates.  ‘On GP’ meanwhile is their most depressive, containing some explicitly suicidal lyrics and ending rather powerfully on the line: ‘I’d be a liar if I sat here claiming I’d exit in a minute/ but I can’t say I wouldn’t have my limits.’. This itself is a heavy statement to end the band’s career on, and is further explored in the closing instrumental proceeding it entitled ‘Death Grips 2.0’. This closing track is the group’s fastest and most sinister sounding track so far and the ‘2.0’ in the title helps to end the album with an air of mystery – are Death Grips going to one day reform as more advanced version of themselves? Or have they reached their ‘limits’.

Most of these standout moments happen in the second half, Jenny Death, which leaves the first half, N****s on the Moon, feeling a bit redundant as part of the climax. That being said, the first half is still enjoyable and flows better than Jenny Death. The topic of sex is also explored more deeply on N****s on the Moon than any previous release, with tracks like ‘Fuck me out’ and the hilariously titled ‘Have a Sad Cum’ painting it as a depressive subject. It has always been Death Grips mission to turn hip hop clichés on their head, and this itself seems like an attack on sexual braggadocio. Arguably, Jenny Death contains the most blatant example – ‘Pss Pss’ being a charming trap-flavoured number about pissing on a girl’s face.

Overall, The Powers That B succeeds at doing what all Death Grips albums have done before it – it raises more questions than answers. Death Grips could never give us an explosive ending as this would require destroying the air of mystery that is so essential to their appeal. They’d have to reveal some major plot twist – ‘Death Grips were One Direction in disguise all along’ or something along those lines. Sadly, I don’t think the band have anything nearly as impressive to reveal, no dark hidden secrets, no grand plot to overthrow the music industry. However, I do believe there is more to their music than simply spontaneous noise for the sake of being noisy, and the desire to decipher this is what makes Death Grips so engaging. 

★★★★☆

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Review of 'The Day Is My Enemy' by The Prodigy

It’s time to test those subwoofers and annoy your conservative elderly neighbours. UK rave veterans The Prodigy are back and they’re not about to go all ambient on us any time soon. In fact, this might just be the group’s loudest and most aggressive album to date. Sadly, it’s also their most forgettable.

Let’s get one thing clear first - this album is forgettable by Prodigy standards. The Day is My Enemy doesn’t contain any cheap house beats. There are no airhorn-loaded trap numbers. Compared to most EDM artists out there, these guys are still clearly attempting to be innovative and in some ways succedding. The percussion rhythms for one are reliably creative, the key ingredient in many of the group’s prior bangers such as ‘Spitfire’ and ‘Firestarter’. The beats on 'Rebel Radio' and 'Medicine' made me want to move and brandish glowsticks and rip my shirt off.

ME RAVING HARD TO THE BEATS ON THIS ALBUM

Hence, the issue with this album clearly lies elsewhere. Personally, I see the band's forgettability (if such a word exists) as being largely down to the texture of this album.

The synth tones deployed on this album are abrasive, but they’re simply not fresh. They’re essentially the same synth tones that were being used on Invaders Must Die. In fact, they’re the same synth tones that Pendulum were playing with a decade ago.

Clearly the griminess of these synth tones plays a large part in the aggressiveness of this album, but overall the moments that truly stand out on this record are the moments in which these abrasive synth tones take a break. Such moments include the 8-bit Nintendo-esque keys on ‘Wild Frontier’, the rave stabs on ‘Destroy’ and the driving guitar on ‘Invisible Sun’. Here, The Prodigy expand the sonic palette. Sadly, these moments are too few and far between, resulting in the remainder of the album feeling very samey.

Lyrics prove to also be a problem on The Day Is My Enemy. Whilst I can’t say I look for much introspection from The Prodigy, hooks such as ‘nasty nasty!’ and ‘Ibiiiza!’ do feel uninspired, especially when compared to the edginess of a past hook like ‘Smack my bitch up’ or ‘Take me to the hospital’.

‘Ibiza’ arguably redeems itself when it is revealed that the track is a jab at many current EDM artists’ live shows that involve plugging a USB stick into a laptop and waving their arms around for a bit. Here, The Prodigy prove their relevance in today’s music scene – they’re still the best live band in EDM.

It’s just a shame that as an album band, the same can no longer be said. 

★★★☆☆

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BEST AND WORST NEW TRACKS OF THE WEEK 01/04/2015: Lapalux, Janelle Monae, My Morning Jacket and more...

Nothing too macho or hardcore this week. A lot of my favourite tracks this week are smooth, classy numbers you’re likely here down your local wine bar. Music for wearing a Burgundy smoking jacket to.

THE BEST:

'Spring (Among the Living)' - My Morning Jacket

Speaking of jackets, US rock band My Morning Jacket have a new track out – a seasonal ode to Spring accompanied by psychedelic visuals of Yosemite’s Vernal Fall (the group’s upcoming album is set to be titled ‘The Waterfall’). It’s a sprightly piece with some vaguely Southern-flavoured vocals and steadily evolving guitars that weave in and out of one another.

'Not Like Here' - Mar

With its synth swells and seductive male vocals, ‘Not Like Here’ sets itself up to be a slowjam for serenading the ladies to. But then in comes the pitch-shifted vocals followed by a surprise spacey synth-bass breakdown. Now even I want to make babies with Mar.

'Young Black Mind' - Dolphin

I don’t feature many jazz songs on this blog because it’s not really my forte, but this new track from Baltimore artist Dolphin about his mother’s influence on his life is sentimental and beautiful enough that any music listener can appreciate it. Impressively, the dude is a one-man band, singing and performing all instruments on the track as well as producing it.

'Puzzle' - Lapalux

UK electronic artist Lapalux is starting to sound a lot like Flying Lotus, which is a good thing so long as he doesn’t end up completely hi-jacking the producer’s sound in the future. British singer, Andreya Triyana, provides some sweet soul amongst the sparkly chords. Listen here at Soundcloud.

THE WORST:

'Pilates' - Donmonique

This chick tries to rhyme Honda with Sunday and the result is ‘Honday’. That’s unforgivable.

'Yoga' - Janelle Monae & Jidenna

I’m a huge fan of Janelle Monae but this naughty ass-shaking anthem just isn’t for me. ‘Bend over. Let me see you do that Yoga’. I love how coincidentally the worst tracks this week are named 'Pilates' and 'Yoga'.

Review of 'I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside' by Earl Sweatshirt

This album title speaks to me. Sadly, Earl’s monotone often sleepy vocal delivery doesn’t. Admittedly, there does seem to be a newfound grit in the Odd Future rapper’s voice on some tracks such as ‘Mantra’. However, there are other points where he gets so lethargic I’m surprised he doesn’t nod off mid-verse (the backend of ‘Grief’ being a prime example).

Fortunately, Earl’s engaging rhymes and oddball imagery have always made up for his lazy flow, and this record sees him continuing this with humorous examples such as ‘fifties in my pocket falling out like fucking baby teeth’. I would have liked to have seen a few more individual song themes on this album, which Earl seems to have sadly scrapped in the pursuit of rawness. In fact, Earl has stripped away a lot of things on this record including the number of guest stars and any signs of a hook. The record is all bars and beats – which will please a few hip hop purists I’m sure. A lot of the songs feel very stream-of-consciousness, Earl rambling whatever depressed thoughts enter his head. It makes the record freer and more intimate, but without any hooks or song themes to tie it all together, it can also feel a bit unfocused and aimless at points, a beat change being the only thing separating one track from the next.

Personally, I think Earl’s last effort Doris had more standout moments, due to the fact that tracks like ‘Sunday’ and ‘Chum’ had individual stories and messages behind them, instead of being a mass of melancholy thoughts. Hooks have never been Earl’s thing, although Doris had a few to give the songs direction such as the ‘Like its nothing cos it’s nothing bitch’ refrain on ‘Hive’.  

Maybe Earl could improve in these areas, although I feel the greater rawness on this record may be where the rapper feels more comfortable. In the end, it’s the self-produced beats that really save this record, and will have me returning. Consisting of lo-fi percussion and melancholy jazzy chord progressions, Earl’s attempt at rawness really pays off here. The atmosphere is beautifully bleak, every instrumental blanketed in grey clouds. No-one does moody quite like the Odd Future crew. 

★★★☆☆

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BEST AND WORST NEW TRACKS OF THE WEEK 25/03/2015: FKA Twigs, Blur, Chic and more...'

If music blogging was my full time job and I didn't have to sell my body and brew moonshine to make extra money on the side, I'd probably still not have time for the crazy amount of material that's been dropping recently. Hyped albums from indie big names such as Sufjan Stevens, Earl Sweatshirt, Death Grips and Kendrick Lamar have had me so distracted, I've barely had time to check out new tracks. However, for you my loyal readers, I've managed to find that time, and here are the results.

THE BEST:

'Glass & Patron' - FKA Twigs

I’m never sure whether to be attracted to Twigs or terrified of her. This disturbing music video has helped resolve things somewhat. CHICKS GIVING BIRTH TO RAINBOW RIBBONS IS SUCH A TURN ON.

As for her music, well, it’s weirder and arty-fartier than anything she’s attempted before, and that’s saying something. Personally, I’m loving it. The suspense is beautiful as always. It’s not very danceable, although that certainly doesn’t seem to put off the voguing performers in the music video.

'There Are Too Many of Us' - Blur

Britpop troupers, Blur, deliver this ode to overpopulation to the accompaniment of a slowburning melancholy chord progression. Admittedly, it could do with a better hook. Is it overoptimistic to expect another ‘Park Life’?

 ‘Sushi Noir’ – Dead recipe

The description on this Californian duo's Bandcamp page says it all: ‘Music about pronouncing your favorite word wrong. The soundtrack to your cult induction ceremony. Songs for babies in the womb on laughing gas. Songs to dribble a basketball to. For when you come home to a decapitated pig head on your doorstep. Glossolalia. From the deepest point in the ocean. Blue Mondays ask your hand.’  

'Nubian' - Leks Rivers

Remember when r&b wasn’t a dirty word? This London singer/producer takes us back to that time with a velvety instrumental and a soulful voice that’s sensual enough to turn lesbians straight and straight men gay.  

'I’ll Be There'  - Chic

Part of me knows the current disco revival isn’t doing much for the evolution of music, but part of me also doesn’t care because let’s face it disco is awesome. Maybe we’ll be reviving dubstep in thirty years. In any case, Chic are back and sounding just as funky as they were in the 70s.

THE WORST:

Time of Our Lives' – Pitbull & Ne-Yo

Club music has now reached a new low lyrically, convincing young people that it's okay to fritter away your hard earnt cash in an overpriced club every weekend even if you can't pay your rent #ThugLife #YOLO #carpediem #HowToGetEvicted

Review of 'To Pimp A Butterfly' by Kendrick Lamar

The first time I heard the grammy-winning single ‘I’, the song’s positive message immediately clicked with me, but my alt-loving hipster side was apprehensive. Was Kendrick about to go all radio-friendly? Was he going to sell out?

Thankfully, no. In fact, To Pimp A Butterfly couldn’t be less radio-friendly if it tried. Set to a backdrop of complex and jazzy Thundercat-and-Flylo-produced beats, Kendrick mindfucks the listener (mindfuck is now a verb), spinning an intricate web of lyrical metaphors and clever contradictions, rapping in flows that vary from loose spoken word (‘For Free’) to verses so tight and bouncy they rival Big KRIT (‘Alright’).

The Compton artist’s last record, Good Kid M.A.A.D City, saw him showing off his storytelling skills, delivering the tale of a young man trying to make his way in the world whilst dealing with girl problems, peer pressure from his homies and an impatient dad who really wanted his Dominoes pizza. This time K-dot puts on his mortarboard and exchanges the storytelling for poetry. Running through the entire album is a single poem that Kendrick slowly reveals between tracks. This poem centres around the exchange of ignorant arrogance and insecurity for positive self-love and confidence – a theme that runs through the entire record.

Alas, Kendrick also proves himself to be a philosopher. The first tracks all deal with ignorant arrogance and insecurity. There are tracks like ‘Wesley’s Theory’ about using women for sex and tracks like ‘U’, a bitter and uncomfortable serving of self-loathing. Later, we get tracks which represent finding oneself and reaching enlightenment – ‘I’ being the most prominent one. Race also plays a key theme throughout the record – Kendrick giving us the beautiful hook ‘complexion don’t mean a thing’, the angry attack on racial violence and black hypocrisy ‘The Blacker the Berry’ and an eye-opening description of why it’s acceptable for the  black community to use the word ‘n***a’ as it derives from the old Ethipian word ‘negus’ meaning king.

This all ties in with the main theme of self-love – as well as promoting that we all take pride in ourselves, Kendrick is also promoting black pride throughout this record. Not the ignorant white-hating kind that we sadly have all come to associate black pride with either, but a more positive cultural embrace.

Clearly, there’s a lot of seriousness and depth on this record. However, unlike some rappers who can sometimes take things to preachy extremes, Kendrick knows how to keep his music philosophical but still fun. One of his party-tricks used on this album is his talent for method acting. Instead of preaching his messages from the perspective of himself, he often uses characters to portray his viewpoints. ‘U’ sees him playing a drunken depressive, whilst ‘The Blacker the Berry’ sees him portraying a frustrated hypocritical black militant.

In each case, Kendrick goes the extra mile adopting not just the persona but the tone of voice of that particular character. ‘The Blacker The Berry’ sees him spitting his bars out more angrily than Ice Cube, whilst ‘U’ sees him sobbing into the mic like a broken man. This makes his music both more emotive and entertaining than your usual monotone emcee. In fact, Kendrick barely ever uses the same voice twice on this record, constantly shifting his pitch and intonation from one song to the next in a schizophrenic fashion.

On my first listen, some the whacky voices did strike me as slightly over-theatrical/annoying particularly the ‘This dick ain’t freeee’ part in ‘For Free’ and the ‘boo boo’ parts in ‘Hood Politics’. Repeat listens have made me loosen up and appreciate the humour in these parts, a humour that’s needed to counterbalance the profound solemnity of other parts of the album. The creativity of these multiple voices is also impressive.

This is after all a very creative album and Kendrick takes every chance to throw a new idea out there that hasn’t been done before. The slowly-revealed poem running through the record is one of the most ingenious of these ideas, but the real piece de resistance comes in the form of the twist at the end of the record. The listener realises the whole time that Kendrick has been reciting this poem to surprise guest star, Tupac Shakur. Adding to his talents as rapper, storyteller, poet, philosopher and method actor, Kendrick proves at this point that he is also a psychic medium, inviting the listener into an interview between him and the deceased rap legend.  

Clearly, Kendrick is aware that he is an influential figure, but by featuring this interview he is also showing us that he too has people who inspire him. It ties in with the idea of positive self-love – as much as it is important to respect oneself, it’s also important to respect other people, no matter how successful you are. Unlike the Madonnas and Kanyes of this world that see themselves as the second coming of Christ, Kendrick realises his influence on the world but still sees himself as a human being and this is what makes him and this album all the more likable.

‘If I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us. But I don’t know, I’m no mortal man, maybe I’m just another n***a.’

★★★★★

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