SUMMER BARS, PT II | 2025-08-24

Don’t say we didn’t try. Because we did. We nearly made it through the month of August, which in many a Gregorian calendar traditions sort of equates with summer’s melancholic swan song days. And yet this past Friday 22nd, that’s the one that tipped the scale: on said day, Dominic Fike, Earl Sweatshirt, Kid Cudi, and Ghostface Killah all released more or less highly anticipated new music into the world. All at once. Moreover, tenured wordsmith-turned-academic professor Lupe Fiasco dropped a long awaiting anniversary EP deluxe celebrating last year’s riveting Samurai. Abi & Alan, Erykah Badu and The Alchemist’s long-rumored collab joint, is also supposedly coming out next week. These follow as many as TEN other carefully selected, must-listen, unmissable, greatest hit rap albums released during this year of the Lord 2025’s hottest season. Boy, oh boy. Everything but the kitchen sink. Part journaling exploit, part platforming, here’s Summer Bars, part II—let’s start pouring drinks.

For starters, this sophomore instalment of the series no one really asked for ups the records ante significantly compared to last year’s eight scrutinized projects. Assuming the purists will forgive us for it, including both Kaytranada’s AIN’T NO DAMN WAY! as well as the aforementioned Abi & Alan in this year’s count tally outright doubles 2024’s total amount—boosting it to sixteen signature hip-hop exploits all released between late May and late August. Boom. That’s a genre overrepresentation if we’ve ever seen one. For reference, our annual Albums of the Year feature compiles (give or take) our twenty favorite records of the previous 365 days; how on earth are we supposed to do the full twelve months justice, when just a few of them hand us over 75% of all suitable entries? At once? Not to mention that editorially, we’ve never really fancied ourselves a strictly hip-hop outlet. And yet, once again, this year’s summer avalanche was a rhythmic might we were simply powerless to deny.

And it’s not like we couldn’t have listed twenty of these. Just a selected handful notable rap exploit omissions spanning the same time period include none other than McKinley Dixon’s auteur hit Magic, Alive!, Boldy James’s umpteenth trustworthy and reliable Nicholas Craven-produced joint Late to My Own Funeral, as well as Nas’s Mass Appeal’s resuscitating “Legend Has It” initial series offerings by Slick Rick (VICTORY) and Raekwon (The Emperor’s New Clothes). Add to that The Coldest Profession, the exquisitely distilled meeting of the rap minds between DJ Premier & Roc Marciano recently unveiled. For Christ’s sake, at the time of writing this we haven’t even had the chance to bump Ghostface’s legendary sophomore Clientele instalment—speaking of Mass Appeal—or the Cudder’s alleged true pop foray on Free (yes, Chance the Rapper’s STAR LINE is that good…).

Before we go any further with this, let us get all of our ducks in a row by allowing us to chronologically list all noteworthy summer bars as they have been opened up for biz hitherto:

  • 30th May: Rome Streetz & Conductor Williams – Trainspotting
  • 6th June: Lil WayneTha Carter IV
  • 27th June: Kevin Abstract/BlushBlush
  • 11th July: ClipseLet God Sort ‘Em Out
  • 11th July: Open Mike Eagle – Neighborhood Gods Unlimited
  • 21st July: Tyler, the CreatorDON’T TAP THE GLASS
  • 25th July: Freddie Gibbs & The AlchemistAlfredo 2
  • 25th July: JIDGod Does Like Ugly
  • 15th August: Chance the Rapper – STAR LINE
  • 15th August: KaytranadaAIN’T NO DAMN WAY!
  • 22nd August: Dominic FikeRocket
  • 22nd August: Earl SweatshirtLive Laugh Love
  • 22nd August: Ghostface Killah – Supreme Clientele 2
  • 22nd August: Lupe FiascoSamurai DX (EP)
  • 22nd August: Kid CudiFree
  • 29th August: Erykah Badu & The Alchemist – Abi & Alan

A few interesting patterns stand out at first glance. One, there is a bit of a sequel common thread in the batch, with Tha Carter IV, Alfredo 2, the aforementioned Supreme Clientele 2, as well as Samurai DX all following in the footsteps of storied predecessors as part of a creative series. Two, one can detect a few producer-rapper pairings in there, as well: Trainspotting, Let God Sort ‘Em Out, Alfredo 2, and the upcoming Abi & Alan all build on the artistic cohesion that emerges when a single studio consigliere oversees an rapper’s whole body of work, front to back. Relatedly, we also have the ever-so-busy and prolific The Alchemist and the pride of Naples, Florida, Dominic Fike appearing on multiple oeuvres in here (Fike is one half of Geezer, who in turn is part of Blush). Additionally, there exists a fistful artists piercing the space-time-continuum through last year: Ghostface, Lupe, and Kaytranada all prominently featured to varying degrees in 2024’s Summer Bars edition. Further, through a more miscellaneous analytical prism, this sophomore instalment even sports a debut effort—the gargantuan and versatile Kevin Abstract-led Blush self titled—as well as three long awaited comeback records, with Clipse’s perfect Let God Sort ‘Em Out being their first in sixteen years, the catchy return to form STAR LINE coming six years after Chance’s epic flop The Big Day, and of course Erykah Badu expected to drop her first full body of work in fifteen long years.

What an incredible savory and flavorsome bunch, ladies and gentlemen. As editorial heuristic, allow us to point your attention in the direction of five, just five, truly exceptional projects in the pack spanning the full three-month spectrum. We know that today’s record industry output saturation all too often leads to a form of choice-paralysis that is encumbering most listeners. Therefore, if you’re only going to sample five albums outta this list of sixteen (!), start with Blush, thank you very much. The record is a messily ambitious new curatorial venture for 29-year old American rapper, singer, and producer Kevin Abstract. Of our top five, it might be the least accessible and more patience-testing, but trust us, its rewards reap exponentially and with every new playback. After founding, skyrocketing, and then dismantling the iconic and watershedding boy band BROCKHAMPTON during the 2010s and early into this decade, the Dr Dre-inspired tastemaker mostly focused on a mixed bag of solo exploits. Blush formally counts as his fifth solo LP, but de facto the record sees him helm the eponymous multi-disciplinary Houston-based collective in a grand curatorial role. With no fixed membership, and a fluid creative chassis, Blush drafted a few dozens collaborators in total, on a high rotational basis and spanning engineering, production, and performing duties—not unlike BROCKHAMTPON, in fact.

Naturally, this led to a ginormously varied and eclectic batch of nineteen tracks, clocking in at almost fifty minutes of experimental material coasting through nearly all sub styles and cultures of modern hip-hop. It features folks like Quadeca, former BROCKHAMTPON members Kiko Merley, Ameer Vann, Romil Hemnani, Jabari, as well as true blue rap staples such as Danny Brown, JPEGMafia, and the aforementioned Dominic Fike. The collection of cuts is a sonic roller coaster snaking through blistering highs and crushing lows, yet one that sounds like nothing else this summer and therefore very much a singular entry in the lot, with plenty of inherent replay value. Meanwhile, the first of our three July picks is Clipse’s Let God Sort ‘Em Out. We’ll spare you the gratuitous re-hashing of why it’s so many people’s (rap) album of the year (if not decade) so far by redirecting you to our fully dedicated featured piece here. In short, Pharrell Williams’s beats throughout the tape confirm that the Neptunes co-founder still is the best sonic tapestry upon which the fraternity duo can maximize their unrivaled chemistry and spitting abilities. Please, please, please don’t let this one slip by you.

This past Friday 22nd August might’ve copped the most notable rap releases at once this summer, but its younger relative 25th July certainly had the two best ones come out in tandem. Pretty much exactly one month ago to this day, mobster rap-producer duo Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist as well as rap’s jittery prodigal son JID dropped their respective studio projects to wide fan and critical acclaim. The former, Alfredo 2, appearing somewhat unexpectedly, it builds on the strengths and potentials of its 2020 pandemic-defying debut chapter, by weaving Japanese yakuza iconography and aesthetics in lieu of Italian mafioso undertones into their tried and true coke rap blend. Pound for pound, it stands up to Alfredo and although it riskily comes with four additional cuts and fifteen more minutes of runtime, it never feels unfocused or superfluous. A formidable masterclass in modern day gansta rap that doesn’t come at the expense of sticky melodies or idiosyncratic beat choices. This slaps so much.

On the other hand, with the might God Does Like Ugly Atlanta-native rapper and singer JID finally put an end to years-long speculations amongst fans and press as to what he might be following up his 2022 magnum opus The Forever Story with. We now have the answer, and we’re pleased to report that it is an overwhelmingly satisfactory one: the American MC’s fourth studio album is an uncompromising, tenacious, and gritty listen. It dares to lean into softer and more melodic R&B and Neo-soul sensibilities toward its middle section, and with the surgical addition of guests such as Westside Gunn, Clipse, Vince Staples, EarthGang, and Ty Dolla $ign, it simultaneously doubles as both a record for the clubs and a record for the streets. Don’t let terminally online trolls fool you—this is exactly what JID should’ve given us, and anyone telling you it’s underwhelming or subpar is insincere. They’re lying to you. As far as offering a smorgasbord of rap nuances, palettes, and shades, no album has beaten this one yet this year.

Onto our chief pick. Trust us, we did not have Chance the Rapper dropping our favorite rap album of the year by end of Summer on our bingo card at the beginning of 2025. And yet, after a somewhat loose and disjointed promo runway that stretches back to standout number “The Highs & The Lows” getting released as many as three years ago—and with the thinly veiled benefit of letting the record sit for a full week—STAR LINE has emerged as an undeniable hip-hop force this year. Granted, it’s certainly not the most fun LP of Summer Bars (that credit probably goes to Tyler’s DON’T TAP THE GLASS, or AIN’T NO DAMN WAY!), nor is it the most cerebral or socially-conscious one (checkout Trainspotting or OME’s Neighborhood Gods Unlimited to scratch that itch). Nonetheless, Chano’s sophomore studio LP sounds like the most complete, wholesome, and integrated, and one we can’t seem to put down. We keep coming back to it; interestingly to find out different things every time. On it, the Chicago-native isn’t afraid to lean into his double edged earnestness to deliver some of the most convinced, impassioned, and believable 16s of the year. We know y’all busy, but if you’re reading this as a hip-hop tourist and are keen to just sample one of these sixteen albums, make it this one. It’s accessible, and a wonderful window into what authentic rap can be in this day and age.

What an incredibly generous offering of bars to choose from this summer. As far as hip-hop is concerned, we don’t seem to remember a similarly stacked one in recent memory. Not to mention, the world is still waiting for Joey Bada$$, J Cole, A$AP Rocky (lol), and Baby Keem to make their move and tack onto the pot of gold drops this year. I know some of you will always take 2024’s ultimate rap beef showdown over something like this any day that ends in ‘y’, but we love it. When the volume business is this good, we might just feel like we aren’t as screwed as most say. What are y’all talking about—we now have Let God Sort ‘Em Out?!

We’d like to thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this and we hope to feel your interest again next time.

AV

DOMINIC IS FINE | 2023-07-10

Dominic Fike is fine. He is fine with being back in his hometown of Naples, FL, after Hollywood didn’t need a reason to make him think he looked bigger than he was. He is fine with not pretending his newest album Sunburn isn’t anything other than a scattered collection of old loose tracks. He is fine with having made it out of the dirt, the hardship, and the struggle—rags to riches, felony conviction included. He is fine with survival’s guilt. Where Kendrick Lamar famously pained himself to explain “How Much a Dollar Cost“, Fike’s rebuttal stops at the otherworldly hive mind of “How Much Is Weed?“. He is fine with being a prodigal lonewolf amidst a tragically golden generation—he’s fine even with BROCKHAMPTON being no more.

Proudly and defiantly an anti-concept album, Sunburn is the 27-year old American singer-songwriter and actor’s second major label project, after instigating a cut through bidding war amongst several record companies from behind the cold confines of his penitentiary cell during the latter end of the last decade—with Columbia Records emerging victorious in 2018. So unlike his 2020 genre-mashing debut What Could Possibly Go Wrong, his latest is a warm, fun, and summer-winking compilation of disparate material, stemming from pretty much the same writing sessions as its predecessor. The lightness and effortlessness with which Fike almost dismisses his current excitement amidst Sunburn‘s promotional run, is refreshing at the very least.

Counterintuitively, that is part of what makes this beach mixtape so good. While some might still file it as a byproduct of cool cold-bloodedness, the former SoundCloud rap sensation’s indifference toward stoking fabricated enthusiasm by over-marketing the 15-cut LP actually makes way for the music to speak for itself. It’s not like one could forcibly blame Dominic, either. Almost every record on the Jim-E Stack-assisted sophomore outing dates back to about three years ago. At least a few of them have been floating around the deep Fike lore and ether since 2021, in either live or teaser form. And to think that the eclectic and sticky third lead single “Mona Lisa” wasn’t even written with the album in mind (initially previewing as OST crown jewel as part of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse).

There’s an evident sense of appeasement and resolve in watching the former jailbird and victim of class feudalism speak and carry himself today—frankly, that’s something all of us can count as a dub. Fike exhumes a kind of seasonality and weariness that betrays both his young age and spotless babyface, one that only someone whose adolescence was stripped away by crime, addiction, and poverty-stricken milieus could possibly sport. Much like so many other burdened by similar disenfranchisement, Dominic turned to music for salvation. Owing to such a coping mechanism, he’s now proudly and nonchalantly wearing some of those late Nineties/early Noughties creative influences on his tattooed sleeves.

Thusly, it shouldn’t come as a blistering surprise that tasteful and breezy “Think Fast” at number three on the record sees a loud and loaded co-sign from none other than Weezer‘s Rivers Cuomo—with a true blue interpolation of the Los Angeles pop punk giants’ “Undone — The Sweater Song“, no less. Or that the elusive and catchiest number on Sunburn, “Frisky“, somehow succeeds at pouring out evident echoes of early 00s Black Eyed Peas mixed with Red Hot Chili Peppers. Meanwhile, the overrated and overproduced sensual pop of Justin Timberlake is an undeniable inspiration on “Bodies” halfway through the mixtape. Yet again, fourth lead single teasing the full release “Mama’s Boy” betrays ephemeral Strokes fingerprints all over its instrumental canvas. Get the point?

Dominic Fike is fine with staying true to himself, and not cracking under the ostracizing major label pressure of unnecessarily sugarcoating something that for him, truly, is passé. He is fine with some of his stans’ para-social behavior, stretching as far as digging up a whole other album‘s worth of unreleased material online. He is fine with understanding the subtle and nuanced specifics of latter day capitalism’s diminishing returns, letting the spate of irresistible hooks on the title track and “Dark” speak on his behalf instead. He is fine with reverting home and providing for his mother and siblings, now that he’s a multi-millionaire with a lot more music in the can. Music he’s actually psyched to talk about.

Perhaps Fike’s most telling and poetic middle finger to retrograde major circuit antics has got to be the way he (mis)handled the inclusion of groovy funk-rap standout “Mona Lisa” into Sunburn. Originally released as a standalone single attached to the theatric release of the eponymous blockbuster movie in early June, the cut was also naturally made available as part of the deluxe version of Metro Boomin’s watertight Presents Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse soundtrack album. At least this was the case for about a month. That is, on release day (7th July), the number inexplicably disappeared from Metro Boomin’s OST tracklist (although astute bloodhounds might still dig up idle versions with it on Spotify), only to mysteriously pop up on the 15-track version of Fike’s latest LP again—notably missing from his original 14-track issue.

While adding, removing, and switching individual tracks around on varying iterations of album sequences is nothing new per se in the modern streaming age, alas, one can’t but smile in schadenfreude at the thought of spree of Columbia record executives’ headaches and the wealth of eyebrows raised as Fike urged them to reinstate the track on his own solo project—probably invoking some right of first refusal last minute. One that scrambled lawyers had to hastily retrofit amidst consulting and negotiating with a plethora of sub labels, all contracted by Spider-Man soundtrack’s curator Republic Records. And we all know Sony Music Entertainment (Columbia) and Universal Music Group (Republic) aren’t exactly best friends. Yeah well, Dominic Fike is fine with all of that.

We’d like to thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this and we hope to feel your interest again next time.

AV

THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2022 IS BACKLOADED | 2022-11-17

Any calendar year’s fourth quarter act invariably sprouts summational thinking on the part of music pundits the world over, thrusting them into cynically whittled down crop of best (and worst…) of new music as if their life depended on it. As it turns out, 2022 appears to be making said faux-editorialized process ever so slightly more difficult, by virtue of above-average quality drops peppered throughout the last two eligible months of October and November. We’d go as far as to claim that the current one might be the most backloaded revolution around the sun in semi-recent memory—potentially of the last decade. This essay sets out to highlight a round up of but a few of the miscellaneous late-into-the-year releases standing to corroborate and qualify such advanced hypothesis. And to think it’s doing so without exhibiting other potential heavyweight honourable mentions worthy of making the cut, such as the intelligently composed and astutely assembled The Car by the Arctic Monkeys, Freddie Gibbs‘s aspirational glam rap opera $oul $old $eparately, and Canadian treasure Neil Young‘s self-effacing fifteenth studio album with Crazy Horse, World Record. Or even Taylor Swift’s open-hearted confessional Midnights, rounding up with Nas’ latter-day-high King’s Disease, attained via his third cold-blooded single-handed trilogy instalment.

A subdued and unsuspecting mid-October Friday saw the return of exquisite Mississippi-hailing singer/songwriter Cory Branan, who with his latest 11-track exploit When I Go I Ghost fiercely put an end to a five year mouthwatering musical drought, dating back to his last studio body of work: 2017’s mixed bag Adios. Unlike his previous, his newest record is a superlative exercise in no frills alt country and then some—flirting equally exuberantly with blue collar heartland rock (particularly on lead single “When In Rome, When In Memphis“, but also on “Room 101” and “Come On If You Wanna Come”), heavy garage rock (“When I Leave Here”), as well as lightweight power pop (“One Happy New Year”). It might be stating the plain as far as the Branan-initiated are concerned, but one of the sharpest traits that sets him apart from the dime-a-dozen pack of mainstream-adjacent country exponents is his refined lyrical sensibility, exhuming a supremely distilled ability to sound both emotionally relatable and eruditely unrivalled at the same time.

When I Go I Ghost is no exception in how it launders and delivers witty quotables and earnest diaristic entries alike—all set to carefully curated rootsy sonic backdrops, relying primarily on Branan’s still criminally underrated guitar playing, as well as sparsely interwoven keys of all strands. Frankly, each of the eleven records sequenced on the project could warrant at the very minimum one sampled litmus test, yet we’ll limit the textual road show to just a few here. Start with “O Charlene“‘s sudden lightheartedness of surrender, which might be one of the most unexplored themes in rock music—especially by men: “Cause the birds are still singing and the sun still burns / Swing low, diminishing returns / And I’m finally done with all my trying to get it right / I drink a flat Coca Cola in the cold sunlight“). Meanwhile, “That Look I Lost“‘s romantic ambivalence, doubling as one of the stickiest refrains on the album, makes for an all too familiar internal struggle to those fighting back their natural ageing inertia: “And I’ll spend the rest of my life / Dying to find / That look I lost, that look I lost / Dying to find that look I lost in her eye“.

Another unassuming dark horse eruptively claiming high altitude spots on many a year-end lists in 2022 has got to be The Loneliest Time, 36-year-old Canadian singer Carly Rae Jepsen’s sixth studio album. On our part, we did our best by warning Interweb argonauts about CRJ’s impending pop doom ahead of time, but boy did the feast not disappoint. Hitting the shelves one week after Branan on 21st October, the Interscope-corralled set of synth-pop galore aptly packs thirteen anthemic vignettes of prima facie alienated melancholic catchiness. Case in point, third promo single leading up to the full release, “Talking to Yourself“, culling the immediate resonance and impact of few other modern pop cuts. Everything from its slick and glossy production to the undeniably familiar verse-pre-chorus-bridge-chorus leitmotiv is bona fide song crafting perfection. In the same breath, “Joshua Tree“, at number two on the tracklist, dabbles as much in pop rock instrumentation as in synthetic pop incantation, only to fold before the melted cheese stickiness of its refrain: “I need it (Da, da-da-da-da-da) / I feel it (Da, da-da-da-da-da) / I see it (Da, da-da-da-da-da) / I know it (Da, da-da-da-da-da) / I own it (Da, da-da-da-da-da) / I show it (Da, da-da-da-da-da)”.

Jepsen—who on The Loneliest Time enjoyed studio co-signs from behind-the-scenes songwriting royalties Rostam Batmanglij and Alex Hope, as well as her longtime collaborator Tavish Crowe—is the type of music creator who can disguise a quasi-interlude into one of the strongest takeaway from a premiere body of work (“Sideways“), in spite (or precisely because of) sugary and borderline cringeworthy verses such as “One more cutе disaster / Said, ‘I love you’ twice / Bеfore you could even answer / It’s hard here in paradise“. Contemporaneously, the Grammy-nominated artist is one to sequence absolute album standout “Bad Thing Twice” as late as number ten on the record’s D-side, willingly entering into the risk of leaking potential listenership along the way before delivering a masterclass in Dua Lipa-like heartbreak slapper material. Sonically and thematically, The Loneliest Time is such a resiliently robust collection of songs; one’d be hard-pressed to spot a lull moment or snoozer on this thing (perhaps “So Nice” on an antonymic day?). Even its pocket of digital-only bonus tracks is worth sticking around for.

Surely, the heaviest name to drop on this year’s backload is Bruce Springsteen‘s, whose 21st studio album Only The Strong Survive sees him interpreting custom solo renditions of fifteen classic soul exploits. Stemming from the storied and iconic back-catalogues of Motown, Gamble & Huff, Stax, and similar fixtures, these recordings double as The Boss’s second collection of covers to date (following the Grammy-winning We Shall Overcome in 2006). By his own admission, the handpicked selection of evergreen R&B tunes enabled the 73-year old “to make an album where I just sang. […] I’ve taken my inspiration from Levi Stubbs, David Ruffin, Jimmy Ruffin, the Iceman Jerry Butler, Diana Ross, Dobie Gray, and Scott Walker, among many others.” Further elaborating on the revisited creative concept through a dedicated announcement clip, the OG New Jerseyan declared: “I’ve tried to do justice to them all—and to the fabulous writers of this glorious music. My goal is for the modern audience to experience its beauty and joy, just as I have since I first heard it. I hope you love listening to it as much as I loved making it.”

As far as the lead up to the full release on 11th November was concerned, the initial electric sprawl and edginess of “Do I Love You (Indeed I Do)“, originally written and performed by Frank Wilson in 1965, gave way to the beloved Commodores classic “Nightshift“—easily one of the album’s pièces de résistance, and an improbable rendition for the heartland rocker to hop on if there ever was one. It’s arguably on this track, more than any other in this retro crop, that Springsteen reached a vocal apex insofar as how clear, tight-commanded, and ebullient his windpipes sound. The watertight and sturdy “Don’t Play That Song” served as the final advance preview for the project, turning a bona fide chart-topper originally authored by Ahmet Ertegun and Betty Nelson (later popularized by Aretha Franklin in 1970) into a carefree brass fest set to Bruce’s cheeky yet wholly believable croonerisms. Elsewhere on the record, “When She Was My Girl“, “Turn Back the Hands of Time“, and “I Forgot To Be Your Lover” stand as further unmissable highlights—decisively turning Only The Strong Survive into an unavoidable candidate in any AOTY race.

At long last, on 17th November trailblazing and envelope-pushing LA boyband BROCKHAMPTON found good riddance of its interior demons by demystifying unreasonable longevity expectations for a coming-of-age group of a dozen through the purge of their swan-song, The Family. Just about making this year’s consideration’s cut, this is the Kevin Abstract-led group’s seventh and final album in six years. It follows their 2021 bloated mixed bag ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE, and rides on the sappy coattails of their hiatus announcement at the beginning of this year. In keeping with the San Marcos, Texas-gestated collective’s unhinged explicitness, lead feline single “Big Pussy” came through from out of left field with a sprawling and out-of-control free jazz instrumental hold, shape-shifting into patch-worked tape-montage wizardry, only to feature the sole Abstract on the mic—much like on the rest of the project—dishing out inflammatory 16s about finessing unfulfilled record deals (“The label needed thirty-five minutes of music“) and the wedges of fandom (“The show is over ni**a, please stop harassing me / Stop asking me, it’s bad enough for me to deal with this tragedy / On my own“).

You guessed it: The Family packs a blitzkrieg 17 records into, well, 35 minutes of runtime—mind you, with as many as ten joints in the bag not even reaching the two minute mark. Everything but the kitchen sink notwithstanding, the off-the-wall raison d’être that has permeated the collective’s MO since its inception seems to take a time-out breather on the subdued and soulful “The Ending“. Dropped just a handful days before release date as conclusive project teaser, the intermezzo is less a fully-fledged single than a semantic coda sermon to BROCKHAMPTON‘s erratic conduct. Sequenced as penultimate offering on the tracklist, sandwiched between the raucous bareness of “My American Life” and their eponymous coda’s blistering prowess, such a concluding triptych makes for a momentous and poignant finishing. Before it, baked somewhere in there is another candid half-hour of heart-on-sleeve primordial soup of boundless hip-hop virtuosity, albeit Abstract-only. At any rate, it’s the last exhibit of a tail end of album drops amounting to as much as any other year top 10’s worth of material, coming to fruition in the last two months of the year alone—if a rising tide lifts all boats…

We’d like to thank you sincerely or taking the time to read this and we hope to feel your interest again next time.

AV

CORY BRANAN

WHEN I GO I GHOST

2022, Blue Elan Records

https://www.corybranan.com

CARLY RAE JEPSEN

THE LONELIEST TIME

2022, Interscope Records

https://www.carlyraemusic.com

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN

ONLY THE STRONG SURVIVE

2022, Columbia Records

https://brucespringsteen.net

BROCKHAMPTON

THE FAMILY

2022, RCA Records

https://www.brckhmptn.com

ALEX REVIEWS MUSIC (ARM): ALBUMS OF THE YEAR 2021 | 2021-12-22

RYAN ADAMSWEDNESDAYS & BIG COLORS (PAXAM RECORD COMPANY)

BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.
BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.

PAUL MCCARTNEY — MCCARTNEY III & IMAGINED (CAPITOL RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE.
BUY IT HERE.

WEEZER — OK HUMAN & VAN WEEZER (ATLANTIC RECORDING CORP)

BUY IT HERE.
BUY IT HERE.

JOHN THE GHOST — I ONLY WANT TO LIVE ONCE (8123)

BUY IT HERE.

KINGS OF LEON — WHEN YOU SEE YOURSELF (RCA RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.

GENESIS OWUSUSMILING WITH NO TEETH (HOUSE ANXIETY)

BUY IT HERE.

BROCKHAMPTON — ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE (RCA RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.

J. COLE — THE OFF-SEASON (DREAMVILLE)

BUY IT HERE.

TYLER, THE CREATOR — CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST (COLUMBIA RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.

BLEACHERS — TAKE THE SADNESS OUT OF SATURDAY NIGHT (RCA RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE.

THE KILLERS — PRESSURE MACHINE (ISLAND RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.

TURNSTILE — GLOW ON (ROADRUNNER RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE.

KANYE WEST — DONDA (DEF JAM RECORDINGS)

BUY IT HERE.

ANGELS & AIRWAVESLIFEFORMS (RISE RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.

THIRD EYE BLIND — OUR BANDE APART (MEGACOLLIDER RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE.

SAM FENDER — SEVENTEEN GOING UNDER (POLYDOR RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.

EVERY TIME I DIE — RADICAL (EPITAPH RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.

THE WAR ON DRUGS — I DON’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE (ATLANTIC RECORDING)

BUY IT HERE. READ THE ARM REVIEW HERE.

ABBA — VOYAGE (POLAR MUSIC)

BUY IT HERE.

MAKAYA MCCRAVEN — DECIPHERING THE MESSAGE (BLUE NOTE RECORDS)

BUY IT HERE.

I’d like to thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this and I hope to feel your interest again next time. And happy holidays this time around.

AV

ALEX REVIEWS MUSIC (ARM): BROCKHAMPTON – ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE | 2021-04-10

We ain’t taking new BROCKHAMPTON projects lightly around here. After losing a whole year like the rest of us in 2020—causing them to fail to maintain their once-per-year LP issuing cadence for the first time since their 2016 All American Trash mixtape—the famed and celebrated pop-rap collective saw fit to unveil the first teaser to their alleged penultimate album ever as a boy band ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE toward the end of March, before unleashing the full body of work shortly thereafter on 9th April. Previewed by the manic and ferocious synthetic thrust of the rad Danny Brown-assisted “BUZZCUT“, the thirteen-chaptered sixth studio effort from the Texas-formed hip-hop group came into existence not without a certain degree of friction, huffing and panting as the culmination of a deranged and straining juncture for most of its members. Some of them spiralled into ravaging existentialism, some took time off to decompress and regroup, others lost family members to suicide, and most simply tried to do the right thing and combated an era-defining public health crisis.

Just to get some of the housekeeping and formalities out of the way here—this thing clocks in at about 45 minutes and change, is out as part of the band’s ongoing multi-year contractual obligation to Sony Music’s RCA Records, and comes co-signed, if not endorsed, by pretty much a who’s who of the hip-hop Mount Rushmore, starting with Wu-Tang Clan’s own RZA and super producer Rick Rubin. It’s sprawling and brimming with eclectic featured guests too, something of a first for BROCKHAMPTON, at least to the extent found here on a proper full length outside of sandboxing focus grouped contexts (such as last years’ pirated livestreamed Technical Difficulties mixtapes). On the newest project, a string of external vocal duties are provided by both A-list mainstream prima donnas (A$AP Rocky, Shawn Mendes, Charlie Wilson), as well as underground up-and-coming acts which one can only assume were pretty much A&R’d by Kevin Abstract and co. themselves (SoGone SoFlexy, Baird, Ryan Beatty). When considering both official tracklisted spots as well as uncredited contributions, no single record amongst the thirteen here is entirely devoid of fingerprints external to the core boy band collective’s.

The piercing and cutthroat aforementioned lead single finds Abstract in rare wordsmithing form, spitting fuming bars like his life depended on them, whilst enveloping prohibitive pockets other MCs would rather keep at arms’ length from: “Truth prevails, this is real, miss my brother / I love my mother, drove all the way to Cali’ just to check up on me / Made her go home, felt the virus / Web of life is my weave, false dreams stripped by silence“. Affording an expensive but ever so trustworthy Danny Brown feature, ornate with eccentric experimentalism coupled with exquisite velvet glove production, allows the Los Angeles-based posse to translate this joint into easily one of the standouts on the whole album right out of the gate. Moreover, its expansive and anti-climactic outro seamlessly fades into JPEGMAFIA’s low-key fly stanzas on the following G-funk “CHAIN ON“, not before alighting at a soft, glossy, and chanty refrain courtesy again of group leader Abstract.

Sequenced at number three on the tracklist one finds the carefree and summery alt-pop inklings of “COUNT ON ME“, doubling as the LP’s second single and—regrettably—tripling as one of the more lukewarm lulls on the whole project. Rocky’s lifeless uncredited intro and verse might just be uncredited for a reason, and while the Ryan Beatty and Shawn Mendes combo pairing crooning the “It’ll be okay, no matter what thеy say about us / It’ll be okay, no matter what they say about us / I know that it’ll bе okay / You ain’t even need no money, you can count on me” chorus is a certainly catchy formula, it’s also pretty much the only redeeming quality this tired radio edit has got going for itself. Counterintuitively, the following “BANKROLL“, with its intricate and busy textured beat and (properly credited) A$AP Mob indulgence does not seem to be able to invert the one-dimensional leitmotif kicked off by “COUNT ON ME”, falling short on nearly all accounts, sounding like a hodgepodge of lacklustre cutting room floor material from the group’s GINGER and iridescence studio sessions.

Fortunately, ROADRUNNER picks up quality steam and lifts off again on its (vinyl’d) B-side with one of its title tracks. “THE LIGHT” at number five is a revelatory, stark, and bare portray spat by both JOBA and Kevin Abstract set to distorted guitars and zany organ samples, interplayed by a singular foreboding and swift chorus, acting as central statement of intent for the whole entire record’s concept underpinning: “For the record, I can fly / Around the world, absorbing light / Something’s missin’ deep inside / The light“. Speaking of table centrepieces, the following six-minute epic “WINDOWS” might just stand as the boy band’s best and most grandiose roll call-meets-victory lap display by virtually all key members to date, sporting gnarly and captivating verses, bridges, and refrains one after another from, in chronological order, Video Store (Abstract and lead producer Romil Hemnani’s media company) signee and fellow Corpus Christi MC SoGoneSoFlexy, Merlyn Wood, Matt Champion, Jabari Manwa, Dom McLennon, JOBA, Kevin Abstract, and bearface.

Believe it or not, some of the most memorable moments on this thing are yet to be dissected though: “OLD NEWS” opening a hypothetical vinyl’s side C at number eight is lifted from true blue classic BROCKHAMPTON playbook MO, showcasing everything from saccharine R&B knacks, sing-along-y refrains, heartfelt and uncompromising bars from Champion, Wood, JOBA, as well as obscure talent Baird, all the way to bona fide clever producer tags worked in for prosperity (“BLEACH“, anyone?). The glamorous and sensual Charlie Wilson-assisted ballad “I’LL TAKE YOU ON“, together with bearface’s modern hymn solo gospel “DEAR LORD“, ensure some proper and much needed soulful respite is spruced atop of the otherwise musically eventful thirteen-cut tracklist, whilst the JOBA-Champion duet atop of an irresistible “WHAT’S THE OCCASION?” alternative indie beat comes across like one of the band’s most off-kilter and compelling songwriting in a while, completed by a sure fan favourite melancholic refrain (“A million little pieces all add up to nothin’ lately / Swim within my bedsheets, it’s somethin’ like a celebration / What’s the occasion? / What’s the occasion?“) as well as gorgeous Beatles-esque arrangement. Yes, you read that right.

Similarly, one could not sing enough praise about the two superlative back-to-back cuts “WHEN I BALL” and “DON’T SHOOT UP THE PARTY” on the record’s back end for switching up gears yet again—their inventive, refined, and catchy demeanour is pure sonic feast to behold. What’s even more remarkable about these two numbers is that they both manage to miraculously still leave a decisive creative impact after having undergone the evident enduring legacy from the wealth of quality material preceding them on ROADRUNNER. Yet, the award for absolute and utmost show-stopping, scene-stealing, heads-turning apex undoubtedly goes to curtain closer “THE LIGHT, PT II“. This stripped down, deconstructed, and larger-than-life helping houses what has got to be one of the most candid, bare, and brutally honest heart-on-sleeve set of verses any BROCKHAMPTON member ever put down to wax in the group’s discography. The following album closing account from JOBA, aside from being impeccably executed, acts as ultimate exhibit to life’s herculean and stoic defiance, particularly when guided by the light machine. It’s reported here in closing and in its bowing out entirety:

When that hammer pulled back, did you think of me?

You were the one that taught me how to be

Look at me now in all my glory

Overcame a lot, that’s a different story

Abandoned by the life-giver, lookin’ back at my life different

Deep cuts in the dusk of the final gasp, before your life flashed

What happens when you die? Does it fade black?

I sense you in my skin and the trucker cap

Missed it when we laughed

Didn’t trust my intuition when I saw the cracks

I’m sorry, all I ever want to do is make you proud

Fleetin’ moments, always found a way around the frown

Set aside the pain to celebrate the now

Couldn’t kick me out the house, I was fucked up

Nothing to prove without doubt, if I’m man enough

What’s the use? I could use you, ’cause I’m scared as fuck

Tuck me in, always young enough to feel loved

And share some, are you lookin’ down?

And a child reachin’ out, brittle bone, crying now

The past does not define you

The past does not define you

The burden was too much

Couldn’t save you from yourself when you’d self-destruct

Couldn’t save me from myself when I pushed my luck

To tell the truth, I am just like you

Left it all in the pistol that you used

Always be a little man, following your footsteps

Even though I’m mad, even though you’re gone

You live on, and the day I have kids

And tell ’em ’bout Grandpa and how great he is

And the grandkids’ grandkids

You’ll never meet if it weren’t for you

I wouldn’t be, neither would they

It’s safe to say I’ll find a way out the darkness

The way you left ‘Ma hits me the hardest

What a shame, things change in the blink of an eye

Fade away, fast break to the depths in the sky

Impermanence turned permanent with a nine

That’s life, that’s life

I’d like to thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this and I hope to feel your interest again next time.

AV

BROCKHAMPTON

ROADRUNNER: NEW LIGHT, NEW MACHINE

2021, RCA Records

https://www.brckhmptn.com

ALEX REVIEWS MUSIC (ARM): ALBUMS OF THE YEAR 2019 | 2019-12-18

KA_AB KEVIN ABSTRACT – ARIZONA BABY (RCA RECORDS)

Buy it here. Read the ARM review here.

tyler-the-creator-igor-1250x1200 TYLER, THE CREATOR – IGOR (COLUMBIA RECORDS)

Buy it here. Read the ARM review here.

BruceSpringsteen_WS BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN – WESTERN STARS (COLUMBIA RECORDS)

Buy it here. Read the ARM review here.

Freddie-Gibbs-and-Madlib-Bandana-1561475407-640x640 FREDDIE GIBBS & MADLIB – BANDANA (RCA RECORDS)

Buy it here.

BH_Ginger BROCKHAMPTON – GINGER (RCA RECORDS)

Buy it here. Read the ARM review here.

SamFender_HypersonicMissiles SAM FENDER – HYPERSONIC MISSILES (POLYDOR RECORDS)

Buy it here.

Sandy Alex G_House (SANDY) ALEX G – HOUSE OF SUGAR (DOMINO RECORDING CO)

Buy it here. Read the ARM review here.

blink-182_NINE BLINK-182 – NINE (COLUMBIA RECORDS)

Buy it here.

third-eye-blind-screamer THIRD EYE BLIND – SCREAMER (MEGA COLLIDER RECORDS)

Buy it here. Read the ARM review here.

JEW_Surviving JIMMY EAT WORLD – SURVIVING (RCA RECORDS)

Buy it here. Read the ARM review here.

I’d like to thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this and I hope to feel your interest again next time. And happy holidays this time around.

AV

ALEX REVIEWS MUSIC (ARM): BROCKHAMPTON – GINGER | 2019-08-24

Godspeed to us all, now blessed and adorned with the fifth studio album in less than three calendar years from self-imposed best boy band since One Direction, the all-American BROCKHAMPTON. It should not come as a surprise to any of you at this point that the dozen people-strong Los Angeles-based posse has been responsible for one of the most creative and exciting artistic journey in the past few years, at least as far as the mainstream commercial realm is concerned. After having sandboxed, doctored, and perfected a near-immaculate transcendental rap trilogy debut spree with their experimental Saturation series throughout 2017—mind you, to put this into perspective, that translates into almost 50 new recordings produced and released within less than twelve months—, the hip-hop collective de-briefed and re-grouped for a minute, allowing itself a breather before coming out with the UK-conceived somber-epic iridescence under rebooted identity and spirit last year.

Not only that, but in the midst of two years filled with writing, touring, promo, co-signs, and features, BROCKHAMPTON’s de-facto leader and creative beacon Kevin Abstract even found time to drop a full LP on his own, coming in the shape of the powerful and therapeutic ARIZONA BABY and dating a mere three months prior to this newest full-band one. Kevin Abstract is arguably a good place to start for GINGER, the group’s latest full length outing that just hit the shelves (GINGER is also their second under the imposing RCA/Sony Music-multi-million deal inked off the back of their blistering Saturation campaign). Abstract’s silent leadership and uncompromising holistic creative vision has always been the brightest North Start for the boy band, whether each individual member likes it or not. Granted, individual MCs such as Dom McLennon or producer-rapper JOBA might have grown faster and more intensely than the group’s frontman per sé over the course of their still-infant discography. However, it’s Kevin’s subtle and refined pen-game, coupled with his immense socio-cultural baggage, that has always acted as necessary catalyst for every new BROCKHAMPTON chapter to date.

Be it his unpredictable, versatile, yet outspoken artistic demeanour, his subdued boy band charisma, or simply his heightened vocation for carrying through with his calling, Kevin Abstract and the whole entire BROCKHAMPTON raison d’être are but two sides of the same, shiny coin. Howbeit, perhaps counter-intuitively, his all-encompassing influence and pep-talk energy appears to have taken somewhat of a backseat on GINGER, at least at a surface level. Sure, his inaugural verse on the album’s flagship first lead single, the structure-less and fluid “I BEEN BORN AGAIN” (unveiled on 31st July), weighs much heavier than just a symbolic ribbon-cutting to the new record cycle. Still, already from the following teasers dropped in anticipation to the full release—from the corky and carnivalesque “IF YOU PRAY RIGHT” (7th August) to the sensationally eclectic “BOY BYE“—his presence appears to be more episodic and marginal, albeit intense nonetheless. On the other hand, it’s gifted rapper and lyricist Dom McLennon who actually comes through with some his more convinced, complex, and technical deliveries on all the album singles. Case in point, his flow on “IF YOU PRAY RIGHT”: “I got spirits in my heart that make my mind move like it’s water / Flow into the moment and avoid the melodrama / Gotta breathe for a second, can’t believe anybody still testing / My whole team is a force to be reckoned with / Operating like specialists / One‚ to the two, to the who are you?“.

Rewinding back to track one, the beautiful and enchanting opening acoustic ballad “NO HALO“, revealed a few days before the release of GINGER, enjoys virtually every composing element of BROCKHAMPTON truly come into their own, displaying unprecedented amounts of executional touch, lyrical valence, emotional merit, and idyllic sonic architecture. As a side note, and just to trace it back to Kevin Abstract’s drive again, it would not be too far off to assume that its crushing reverberated tremolo acoustic guitar and general underlying tune sprouted during the leader’s studio writing sessions for his last solo effort (see “Crumble“). This song sees the welcome return of special guests Ryan Beatty—an old acquaintance of the Kevin and the group, as well as a quasi-member of the collective—and 88rising-lendee Deb Never, who provides her angelic pitch to the song’s celestial refrain. Clocking in at about four minutes and a half, this existential serenade undoubtedly represents one of the record’s key and most important moments, incidentally chosen as the curtain opener by the band.

Interestingly enough, and pretty much in accordance to some of the points outed above, GINGER as whole is BROCKHAMPTON’s shortest album to date, both in terms of track listing (twelve cuts) and run time (45 minutes). Unlike all of their previous efforts, there are no real skits or interludes on this thing, either. This LP witnesses the boy band clearly learning how to hone and refine their compositional virtues over time, resorting to more poignant and necessary statements, decluttering much of what would’ve inevitably come along even a mere six months ago. A prime example of this is the Ryan Beatty-assisted “SUGAR” at number two, a bona fide wholesome R&B/pop song in which both Dom McLennon and Matt Champion spit out standout verses, respectively:

I move mountains on my own, don’t need nobody help Change your mind when I change my life, better start believing in myself / And we all out lookin’ for, lookin’ for God so we never see it in ourself / Shit, divine intervention move in stealth“;

Yeah, back on Vincent with the braces on / Used to slide out the back without the neighbors knowin’ / Pose for the picture with the pearly whites / Dead lens zoomin’ in, catching all my strikes“.

Another such moment is found on track number ten “BIG BOY“, a Kevin Abstract and JOBA-dominated feast of dark and grim soundscapes enveloped in show-stopping and radically catchy bars from each of them. The latter has hardly ever sounded so self-assured and convicted, only to be conveying some of his most personal and delicate sentences ever. Yet with all that being said, the one track that has been causing a wealth of commotion around the BROCKHAMPTON community amidst the release frenzy is undoubtedly “DEARLY DEPARTED“. And rightfully so. Part tune where core OG MCs Kevin Abstract, Matt Champion, and Dom McLennon reinstate their shared lyrical throne, part liberating and cathartic stream of consciousness aimed at cleansing a filthy yet unequivocal past, the song’s superior larger-than-life production and pristinely lush instrumentation make for a joint that is both powerful and gorgeous to the ears.

The raunchy and industrial “ST PERCY“, as well as piano-confessional curtain closer “VICTOR ROBERTS“, add to the proud list of these next-generation BROCKHAMPTON cuts whose production, songwriting, and delivery shine through in evolved form, and where the messaging is more succinct and to the point, where a certain sense of musical structure prevails over sheer off-the-wall lab experimentation. Notwithstanding this, GINGER is not free of fat that could have been cut or even flat out snoozers. Such are the UK-grime rapper on-the-rise slowthai-guested “HEAVEN BELONGS TO YOU“, a track that unfortunately sticks out like a sore thumb lending no additional ounce of rhyme nor reason to the overall picture. Meanwhile, the half-baked self-titled joint, drown in pitch distortion and autotune as it is, makes for what sounds like a forgettable and flavourless indie-pop number. Penultimate song “LOVE ME FOR LIFE” can’t really stick its landing either, providing little more than monotone beat and flow on top of a thoroughly off-putting verse from member rapper Merlyn Wood.

All things considered, BROCKHAMPTON’s fifth official body of work is a less catchy, less immediate, and less poppy affair than any of its predecessors. Perhaps it’s because it gestated throughout the course of a critical semi-hiatus during which members broke out and re-settled as separate-joint units. It is also the group’s shortest statement to date, and one that generally is less sticky, out-there and in your face, for better or worse. Yet, with this one, most rappers and producers within the BROCKHAMPTON pantheon truly started to gain both access and dwelling rights to their true elevated creative element, cranking out songs that are amongst the band’s best and most maturely sincere. On here, pure initial traces of timeless boy band-level pop songwriting are also finally starting to emerge, suggesting an overall refinement of their authorship skills now yielding riper, more self-aware, and enduring results. In spite of what anyone else had you believe with their Saturation saga or even iridescence, GINGER is BROCKHAMPTON’s real coming-of-age record.

I’d like to thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this and I hope to feel your interest again next time.

AV

BROCKHAMPTON

GINGER

2019, Question Everything Inc./RCA Records

http://www.brckhmptn.com

BH_Ginger

ALEX REVIEWS MUSIC (ARM): DOMINIC FIKE – PHONE NUMBERS | 2019-07-07

School, radio shows, TV programmes, and so much more are easily out for summer by now. However, as we all know very well, music and other forms of conspicuous cultural media production and consumption never miss a beat, rising up instead to pull out all the stops in times of abundant times to kill on the part of unaware audiences. New music Fridays know no holidays, if you know what I mean. So needless to say, the initial portion of this year’s warmest season did not go shy in cranking out new creative manufacture to keep us and our moms all entertained. Hence why, this latest ARM instalment found itself forced to come to fruition by way of a hybridised approach, milk-shaking various existing content staples together, such as ARM itself, APIT, and pinches of musical loose odds and ends too.

To cut a long introduction short, despite this very piece being filed under the ever-so-familiar ARM feature section indeed (see above), it actually represents kind of a novelty, an editorial debut of sorts. For the first time after 45 — yes, I counted — individual ARM instalments spread over multiple years, going over either full albums or EPs, this new Dominic Fike short review will instead focus on a single track only. Consider it a precedent, ladies and gentlemen. And, I won’t be afraid to use it in the future. Shocker, I know. Regardless, before we delve into the artistic merits and flaws of this new Kenny Beats-produced song “Phone Numbers“, I just wanted to take this occasion to blatantly implore you, on my bruised knees, to please please give the new Freddie Gibbs & Madlib joint Bandana a listen. Several looped listens, actually. The replay value of this thing is off the charts. Mind you, whether this wholly gratifies you or not, at this point I shall constrain my critical judgement to this tweet alone. Also, if you feel like checking out season three of Stranger Things, which just dropped mere days ago, go ahead and do that too. It’s a hectic and layered third set of episodes. That Bandana album though.

At this point you might have heard or read about 23-year old Florida-born rapper Dominic Fike in-between the lines of previous pieces on this online real estate property, or anywhere else on the Interweb for that matter. However, generally speaking, little is still to be encountered about the somehow elusive rapper/singer-songwriter, who’s already managed to squeeze jail time, drug abuse, a dysfunctional family background, and a multi-million bidding war among major labels under his existential belt. His indie rock-flirting debut project Don’t Forget About Me, Demos — a swirling and hooky 6-track EP that received the re-mastering/re-releasing treatment with Sony Music/Columbia Records shortly after they successfully courted him — is in fact the sole official trace of a music industry pedigree of sorts for the Naples-native, virtually shelved on streaming services alongside a few standalone singles that started to emerge since the month of June this year. That’s where things start to get interesting for us.

First, on the 7th day of said month, it was the hollow, pensive, and sullen “Açaí Bowl“, a slightly distorted autotune crooner aided by gentle guitar arpeggio fingering, navigating through evidently sensual chanted melodies (“She said ‘I dressed in your favorite / I bought two bottles of red / Unless you made reservations / Oh look, you thought all ahead'”) as well as concrete MC-like rap bars (“And when they locked me up, she never listened to her friend / They told her “move on” movin’ on (Mhm) / And now she tells that same bitch ”My shoes Prada / My boo bought ’em, I do love him‘”). Revealed on the same day, side-B to said single was the lo-fi neo-soul number “Rollerblades“, a 2-minute and change fuzzy, laid-back deconstruction of R&B sounds and aesthetics that wouldn’t have been out of place on Frank Ocean’s Blonde. Or actually maybe on its cutting room floor.

This takes us to a few days ago, Friday 5th July, when the BROCKHAMPTON-affiliate saw fit to unveil his third single in the now full-throttling series. The fun and groovy tongue-in-cheek reprimand “Phone Numbers”, which he seems to have confirmed serves as yet another taster in anticipation to his still unannounced debut full-length effort later in the year, sports a borderline tropical-dancehall vibe, embodying a 4/4 slapping beat and what sounds like a zany ukulele strumming moulding the main melodic lane throughout: “Why you not here with me? / Can you break bread with me? / Why you switch phone numbers like clothes? / Why you can’t answer me? (Yeah) / ‘Cause I got more coming“. While not the longest in runtime,  this one definitely feels like the more structured and robust verse-chorus-verse-bridge boilerplate out of all the standalone tunes dropped hitherto, thanks arguably to super mega trendy producer royalty Kenny Beats doctoring the sound architecture on here.

As a follow up to these one-offs, it now seems more than legit to expect a fuller, more cohesive body of work sooner rather than later from the “3 Nights“-sensation, not least judging by the amount of unofficial and unreleased material that appears to be making waves around the web, including the raunchier underground gansgta hip-hop brand he started off in Florida with before moving off to shinier pastures new in Los Angeles. Also, if the stripped down Rain of Shine — the recent stream-of-consciousness impromptu Paris livestream he uploaded to his YouTube channel — is of any indication, then it’s signalling a clear pivoting towards beginning to re-populate the artist’s digital footprint with careful content pills apt to his new redux-ed persona.

Don’t get me wrong here, in spite of the slightly underwhelming and unfinished state of the material we got our hands on so far, we are indeed dealing with a raw and unrefined piece of artistic talent, capable of mastering a wide range of genres, instruments, and vocal interpretations dutifully puzzle-pieced together in service of clear pop sensibilities. After all, record labels might be cringeworthy and shallow, but they’re not stupid. With that being said, pretty much every element of his musical production is still quite all over the place, from his songwriting to even the slightest notion of a coherent sound apparatus. Yet, the various scatter-plotted pieces of gifted evidence we’ve gotten so far echo more and more promising by the drop. Furthermore, let us not forget the qualitative heights he managed to achieve for what he provided on BROCKHAMPTON’s leader Kevin Abstract recent ARIZONA BABY, a project on which he outshone any other collaborator. Come to think of it, we might indeed be witnessing the gradual unravelling of a caterpillar becoming butterfly just before our very eyes.

I’d like to thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this and I hope to feel your interest again next time.

AV

DOMINIC FIKE

PHONE NUMBERS

2019, Columbia Records

https://dominicfike.com

DominicFike_Phone#

ALEX REVIEWS MUSIC (ARM): TYLER, THE CREATOR – IGOR | 2019-05-26

Provocateur. Jackass. Instigator. Fashion designer. Clown. Cockroach-eater. Enfant terrible. Cheese Danishes lover. Homophobic. Lead odd futurist. Artiste. Prodigal son. Wolf Haley. Misogynist. Influencer. DJ Stank Daddy. Bastard. (Scum fuck) Flower boy. Garçon. Mr Lonely. Gimmick. Fraud. UK and Australia land limits outlaw. Auteur. Punk. Eastern European name adorer. IGOR.

The above are but a filtered bunch of the somewhat one-dimensional and reductive tags Mr Tyler Gregory Okonma, aka Tyler, The Creator, has been subject to pigeonholing with during his career as a solo artist and beyond. The 28-year old Ladera Heights-native rapper, singer-songwriter, and producer has been witnessing nothing short of a stunning chameleonic trajectory as it pertains to both his personal and artistic identity refinement, roughly chaptered alongside a before-and-after moment on this timeline, captured by his tenure at his now defunct trailblazing rap collective Odd Future. Post-OF Tyler, The Creator has then seen his creative itinerary alight at five distinct full LPs preceding his last, IGOR, pivoting and peaking at superiorly lavish Flower Boy station two years ago, an album that still haunts yours truly in the shape of a sacrilege for not having seized the occasion to fully unpack it and review when it came out.

However, pretty much all of the compartmentalising labels and tags thrown at him by both click-bait tabloid and woke media left and right, seem to miss the fact that Tyler is, actually, a fairly old-fashioned and nostalgic twenty-something post-Napster millennial, as much indebted to Roy Ayers and Pharrell Williams as to UK’s own Doves and Nigerian punk-rock. One only needs to pay a tad closer attention than the average to discover how the influential Los Angeleno MC’s cognitive scheme works by employment of rather old-school, anachronistic, and analogue architectures of thinking. Case in point; he still refers to his songs — or any song, really — by calling them by their track listing position, instead of their actual title, denoting a clear reliance on the album as a format and thought processing lens when it comes to music. Or, as a further supporting exhibit, just turn to the prevalent apparel leitmotiv expressed through his clothing brand GOLF, notably inspired by dated run-of-the-mill retro-outfits sported by “old dudes”, in his own words.

Considering the above melting potato salad of misconception, surface-level-judging, creative evolution, latent missteps, and uninhibited self-expression peppered throughout Tyler, The Creator’s multi-artistic career to date, the rather sudden arrival of his sixth studio project IGOR on Friday 17th May was arguably destined by design to be met with a combo of curiosity and excitement. Tyler’s camp managed to squeeze the entirety of the album’s promo and anticipation within two weeks and change, as the rapper’s social media accounts began teasing sonic sneak peaks of less then a minute in length, kicking off with scene-setting “IGOR’S THEME” on 1st May, delivering an hypnotic distorted synth attack chased chronologically by an edgy drum kit, additional layered keys, and the start of a refrain. Similarly formatted snippet clips followed in quick succession, first with the eerie and foreboding lo-fi of “WHAT’S GOOD“, then taking a left spin with the tasty and warm soul of “A BOY IS A GUN“, only to retract to another U-turn with the subsequent “NEW MAGIC WAND” teaser, another big, heavy, violent beat gelled together by a pitch-shifted spine and its quasi-industrial feel.

Unsurprisingly, as we’re dealing with Tyler — and in pure harmonic alignment with the nostalgia claims above —,  IGOR’s tasters ought not be considered as singles to the record in any way, shape, or form. While the former Odd Future honcho did in fact drop a full music video for his schmaltzy, sugary, and delicious tune “EARFQUAKE” on album release day — very much in the spirit of a lead flagship track statement for the whole record — he actually saw fit to publish so-called listening instructions for fans to heighten their proper engagement with the record as Tyler meant it to be. These include memos reminding listeners that “This is not Bastard. This is not Goblin. This is not Wolf. This is not Cherry Bomb. This is not Flower Boy. This is IGOR. Pronounced EEE-GORE.” and, most crucially, crossing Ts and dotting Is around pre-conceptions: “Dont (sic) go into this expecting a rap album. Dont (sic) go into this expecting any album. Just go, jump into it“.

Thus, in his defence, we can’t say we weren’t warned. And oh (flower) boy were those instructions predictively on point. This thing is as much a fuzzy R&B/funk soufflé as it rocks an abstract hip-hop flair, only if it were almost exclusively inspired by low-fidelity Neo-soul crooner-ish songwriting. I haven’t actually measured it so don’t quote me on that, but it’s probably safe to say that true blue MC bars don’t make up even half of IGOR’s total runtime of just about 40 minutes. Now, if Flower Boy were to be employed as some kind of MO trend indication in this sense, this shouldn’t struck as an inconceivable surprise. Notwithstanding this, IGOR isn’t simply a natural and evolutionary step forward in Tyler’s production, arrangement, and songwriting patterning. It’s more like a transverse 180· reboot, milk-shaking much of what he’s been (here’s looking at you, Wolf and Cherry Bomb), mixed with the holistically creative vision behind Flower Boy on steroids, and just a sea of pitch shifting effects. More than any of its predecessors, IGOR is a Tyler, The Creator statement of identity, intent, and emotion.

Counterintuitively, the project is in fact a mighty who’s-who concerto of features, collabs, and co-signs, yet its album art sleeve is here to heartily remind everyone that everything was written, arranged, and produced by the Tyler himself. Playboi Carti (“EARFQUAKE”), Lil Uzi Vert (“IGOR’S THEME”), Solange (“I THINK”, “A BOY IS A GUN”, “I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE”), Kanye West (“PUPPET”), Jerrod Carmichael (interludes MC and wisdom spreading impresario), Santigold (“NEW MAGIC WAND”, “PUPPET”), La Roux (“GONE, GONE/THANK YOU”), CeeLo Green (“GONE, GONE/THANK YOU”), Charlie Wilson (“EARFQUAKE”, “I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE”), Slowthai (“WHAT’S GOOD”), and Pharrell (“ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?”) are only a selected few among the helping hands Tyler reached out to for the execution of the project, however no single one was deemed deserving and functional enough for an actual track-level display credit in the eyes of our favourite garçon.

Following a line of thinking warranting a full and overarching body of work appraisal, rather than a track-by-track surgical dissection of its fragmental building blocks, IGOR comes across as a bona fide example of an artistic whole being so much more than the mere sum of its compositional parts. It’s no coincidence Tyler or anyone at Columbia Records didn’t feel like spraying outward a single cut months ahead of the full LP release to entice the audience while at the same time canvassing a fairly representative sonic picture of what the full collection of songs was going to be. That would’ve in fact been a fool’s errand, whether we or Tyler like it or not. For one, perhaps paradoxically, no single track is in fact strong enough to exist autonomously and self-referentially (although the serene, catchy, and come-undone-revealing “RUNNING OUT OF TIME” comes close to that), a notion that with 20/20 hindsight was predictably anticipated by Tyler’s out-of-the-box instructions for use above. Furthermore, on a more mixing/production level of analysis, virtually all track transitions are established by continuous fade in-and-outs, doctoring a unique and uninterrupted listening experience from beginning to end.

What’s more, and quite in juxtaposition to the self-indulgent mission statement of the record, on IGOR Tyler is seen wearing many of his most explicit artistic influences proudly and confidently on his sleeves, to an extent where at times one couldn’t be condemned for thinking that this project was more of a compilation joint, rather than a concept art piece where the source artist acts as the be-all and end-all of its full craftsmanship. Note how his somewhat unrequited love for R&B/Soul blossoms on songs such as the aforementioned “EARFQUAKE”, the confessional and loaded “A BOY IS A GUN”, and perhaps most predominantly on the inquisitive and climaxing album closer “ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?“. Kanye West, on his part, shows up both on wax (on vulnerably desperate number “PUPPET”) and as a conceptual reference point: indie-garage derivative track number three “I THINK“s main melodic chords progression sounds just like a “Stronger” cutting-room floor residual demo from 2007. Plus, lest we forget, this whole entire thing has got Pharrell Williams written all over it.

Lyrically, IGOR is recounting a tale arc made of romanticism, love, attraction, rejection, confidence, insecurity, resentment, identity, and acceptance, although it’s extremely hard to put one’s finger on what cut exactly expresses what feeling. Almost as if by careful engineering intent, it’s only with the full twelve tracks under one’s belt and inside one’s brain that the listener can begin to make heads or tails of the bird’s eye view narrative carved into this project’s ethos. When thinking back at specific emotions or cognitive landscapes perceived while sucking up its content, it’s rare that a single song off IGOR is truly capable of doing full justice to the specific feeling conveyed. There is almost a sense of performative uncertainty — or perhaps hesitation — to the scatterbrained itemised musical brushes encapsulated in the twelve distinct-yet-unified vectors that make up IGOR. This might support the evidence around the lack of a real lead single, or even a typical radio-friendly verse-chorus-bride songwriting structure. Instead, in order to funnel a kaleidoscopic, heterogeneous, and contradictory story, with IGOR Tyler was forced to resort back to the comfort of his artistic cognitive infrastructure more than ever, counting on only those few reference points he’s always been faithful to (hence why track number ten “GONE, GONE/THANK YOU” still has a two-songs-for-one structure, as with all his previous full-lengths).

It’s probably still too soon — or actually too late — to measure the impact of single tracks over the full body of work under scrutiny here, as it would admittedly and arguably be an exercise dead on arrival. The risk of not seeing the forest for the trees would be too high. But also, there is a suspicion lurking that Tyler knew it all along. That is, in the above mentioned listening instructions, he also writes: “As much as I would like to paint a picture and tell you my favourite moments, I would rather you form your own“. What better way to spill the beans upfront, revealing that there are in fact no such individual favourite moments, for this project is strictly meant to be digested as a whole unified and interoperable hodgepodge?

I’d like to thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this and I hope to feel your interest again next time.

AV

TYLER, THE CREATOR

IGOR

2019, Columbia Records

https://www.golfwang.com

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ALEX REVIEWS MUSIC (ARM): KEVIN ABSTRACT – ARIZONA BABY | 2019-04-27

Feed me anything stemming from the BROCKHAMPTON universe and I shall gravitate towards it like ducks to water. This predicament has held true pretty much ever since the Texan boy band stormed onto the global music scene in 2017 and began turning a lot of incredulous heads as it went on to release its magnum opus Saturation trilogy within the span of a little more than six months. The fact that this latest project baked out of the hip-hop collective’s factory is earmarked by its founder and leader Kevin Abstract does nothing but add substance and critical mass of intrigue to the whole shebang. This is partly because noblesse oblige, but arguably more so due to the rapper/singer-songwriter having had to deal with a past twelve calendar months full of exterior dismissals, periods of self-doubt, and indirect solitary confinement while the boy band fulfilled the cumbersome release cycle around their ambitious fourth studio effort iridescence. For those of you not in the know, let’s just say that Kevin’s contribution to BROCKHAMPTON as of late wasn’t exactly a spotless and wholesome embrace on the part of audience and critics, with the advancement of more or less aggravating accusations ranging from him having lost any faculty of adding real value to the group’s new music to head-on reprimands of acting as entitled prima donna choosing deliberately to dim away from the creative limelight of the artistic project.

Needless to say, Mr Abstract must have had more than a few things to get off his chest. Acting as the group’s prodigal son — and by unfortunate curse of it, its scapegoat — while at the same time elbowing its way to cut through the cultural discourse of a more often than not bigot and retrograde society as a young black queer millennial can’t ever be understated.  However, the above are not the only reasons worth justifying a fiery engagement by way of heightened enthusiasm with Kevin’s latest third studio LP ARIZONA BABY. For one, his last solo project American Boyfriend: A Suburban Love Story (2016) proved to be a sensationally pretty and beautifully crafted body of work, all the while carrying enhanced lyrical and thematic value captured with a maturity certainly not evident for someone who had barely turned twenty years of age. So, after the exploit of a lifetime experienced on the BROCKHAMPTON trajectory, including a groundbreaking major label deal with RCA Records earlier last year, an inevitable soaring curiosity ensued to accompany the anticipation around his follow-up. Thankfully, Kevin did not disappoint. For starters, it’s not like the Texas-native and autotune-aficionado ever even properly announced the arrival of ARIZONA BABY, rather opting for semi-official hints of random album art renditions, scattered spring dates, and improbable Lana Del Rey shoutouts.

Let us try and make some order of the unfolding of events here. Firstly, it wasn’t until the 8th April that we got unequivocal indications pointing at new music from the MC, as Kevin dropped a music video for what turned out to be the first taster ‘single’ off the new project, coming in the form of an anxious and grinding minute-and-half Outkast-inspired bouncer called “Big Wheels“. Then, a few days later on 11th April, the BROCKHAMPTON crooner saw fit to drop a three-track single format pretty much without evidentiary explanation, simply dubbed ARIZONA baby. The bundle included the aforementioned lead cut, the lavishly carnivalesque “Joy Ride“, and the tear-inducing singalong stunner “Georgia” (whose sticky and sappy refrain “I got Georgia on my mind, ain’t nobody left behind / It’s just me, my team, my weed, my baby’s Audi parked outside / Call my mom and let her know that everything is alright” will live on for years on end already sounding like a classic). A mere week after that, it was time for Ghettobaby the EP, featuring all three above mentioned records with the same track listing order and the addition of three more. His native Texas hometown namesake “Corpus Christi” at number four is a stripped down palm-muted guitar-led intimate reflection on his past, while the Ryan Beatty-assisted “Baby Boy” stands hands down as one of the high points on the whole project, more so than the confusingly dull hodgepodge “Mississippi” that rounds up the EP. On “Baby Boy”, everything from its groovy and rhythmic verse laments to the irresistibly enchanting chorus as well as the clever instrumentation choice (incl. climaxing larger-than-life synths and warm sax lines) make for one of Kevin’s most well-rounded and wholesome tracks to date.

So at this point we were serviced with a pseudo-single with three loosely collated cuts and an accompanying EP sporting said three songs and a bunch more. Meanwhile, to many’s relief and excitement, the Los Angeles-based MC started dropping hints that what we were bearing witness to was in fact a gradually phased roll out for what was in fact his complete third studio full-length ARIZONA BABY (flashbacks to Denzel, anyone?). And then, fiercely defying industry release protocol norms, on Thursday 25th April the LP eventually saw the light of day, revealing a 11-strong tracklist — including all six previously unveiled cuts, shockingly — and supplying a little more than half-hour runtime of material. Moreover, on release day, the Abstract camp unleashed a brand new lead single and associated music video for “Peach“, at number eight on the tracklist. The joint is a gentle reverb-soaked acoustic tale of empowering self-discovery (“I ain’t sign up for no bullshit / I told my baby that I’m bulletproof / Mans made me take two sips / All things I couldn’t do“), and the video sees Kevin teaming up with not only most of the BROCKHAMPTON crew, but also introducing the raw up-and-coming performing talent of Florida singer Dominic Fike to the large rap collective’s audience. On here Dominic is in charge of lending the song’s chorus a lovely and delicious motif that is surely going to gratify numerous fireside chants this coming summer (“I’ll be your baby doll and your bodyguard if you tell me to / I’ll try to make it all not as hard if you let me through“).

Now, after having sat with the full collection of songs for a while, let me say this whole thing comes across as an extremely versatile and layered concept, one that I can already predict will hold a wealth of replay value and unpacking carved into its DNA. On the one hand, this record displays Kevin’s pristine pop sensibilities like no other before, presenting some of the catchiest and strongest tunes he’s ever written. On the other hand,  too often one finds themselves wondering how on earth to make heads or tails for many of the songs, with power-pop super producer Jack Antonoff (of Bleachers fame) and BROCKHAMPTON’s very own Romil Hemnani’s mixing and sound architecture shamefully overwhelming the listener into self-indulgence. Unfortunately, some of the tune’s intentions fail to stick their landing, too. Take for instance track number seven “Use Me”, an effective gospel-channelling joint at first, only to transmute into a wishy-washy melting pot of doctored sounds that serve no real purpose other than withdrawing the track’s sense of direction from its promising start. Similarly, the ninth song on here “American Problem”, notwithstanding its personal, praiseworthy, and noble thematic commitment, drowns figuratively in auto-tuned pitch-manipulation leaving a lot to be desired on many fronts, though mainly compositionally and delivery-wise.

While ARIZONA BABY swaggerish curtain caller “Boyer” funnels pound for pound the BROCKHAMPTON’s Saturation era aesthetics playbook — with its quirky beat and frenetically glitchy flow — it’s moments like penultimate track “Crumble” that both elevate the full body of work on show here to heightened artistic horizons, and act as reminder that crafting potent emotional gems leveraging gnarly genre experimentation is precisely Kevin Abstract’s wheelhouse. This song has everything we’ve come to love about his raw and honest songwriting brilliancy, coupled with ingenious authoring design, pulling collabs and co-signs straight to wax from all heavyweights involved with this record. Case in point, Dominic Fike’s once again infectiously harmonious licks early on in the track, Jack Antonoff’s distantly spacious so-called ‘chorus’, and Ryan Beatty’s subtle second-voice additions to the bridge. Although it’s arguably the shaky reverberated acoustic guitar that lends the tune its heart-shattering delicacy, while simultaneously providing a bespoke sonic mantel to wrap up the intense sentimental energy of the song from cradle to grave.

Surprise surprise, this is Kevin Abstract’s most intimate and vulnerable record, outward-preaching and inward-internalising conceptions of empathy, compassion, emancipation, achieving an overall crisp sense of catharsis while doing it. The realisation that this comes in form of a motley melting pot of genres (rap, R&B, pop, jazz, indie-rock are all at home here), styles, sounds, and aesthetics, is secondary to the sublime principal mission statement of firing back at the world in the manner Kevin is known to do best: superior rite-of-passage songwriting.

I’d like to thank you sincerely for taking the time to read this and I hope to feel your interest again next time.

AV

KEVIN ABSTRACT

ARIZONA BABY

2019, Question Everything Inc / RCA Records

http://arizonababy.world

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