#DJ HARAM

[caltropspress]

DEBRIEFING: 5 August 2023 | Brooklyn, NY | The Nursery at Public Records

Armand Hammer’s We Buy Diabetic Test Strips Pop Up Party, featuring Fatboi Sharif, Cavalier, and DJ Haram

On the helix approaching the Lincoln Tunnel I saw a Virginia plate that read PHUNKE—its occupants seemed anything but, but who am I to judge? Not since I saw EGO DETH on a Volkswagen Kombi in the artificial light of the Holland while driving in to see woods’ Church release show at Baby’s All Right in early June have I taken a license plate as a sign. Fred Moten writes that “the sign works its terrible magic precisely from within a radical non-isolation,” but it’s a bit too early in the everyday struggle for theory, wouldn’t you agree? What I’m focused on is the WE BUY DIABETIC TEST STRIPS signs plastered over walls and poles. A sight as common in NYC as POST NO BILLS and CA$H FOR CAR$. We close our eyes to these signs, oblivious to their ubiquity. We’ve become blind to them. But I saw the sign with “Armand Hammer” appended to it, and it opened up my eyes. Life is demanding without understanding. So I overstand the signs and signals sent through wires and cables when I dial 1-877-ARM-N-HMR. I focus. I fixate. I study Alexander Richter’s photograph from the forthcoming album of a lamppost covered in taped and torn flyers. The edges fray and flicker in city winds. Looks like the tendons and flesh rotting from the bones of Death in Hans Baldung Griend’s Der Tod und das Mädchen (1517) painting. Looks like some real litter-ature. Gathering on August 5th, just six days shy of hip-hop’s much-heralded 50th anniversary, I think of hip-hop flyers of the past, specifically Kool Herc’s Back to School Jam at 1520 Sedgwick. But MC Debbie D—a flyerologist of the highest order—tells us that the index card flyer is a phony, a fake, a fugazi replica, a forgery. Fifty years into this thing and we’re still searching for authentic experiences. Fifty people at a rap show and one’s an informant. I’m here to inform on what felt—brain to bone—like an authentic experience.

3PM in the sun. I lined up with the other RSVPs (the show was free, in every sense of the word) outside the venue. Summer summer summertime. Fresh Prince via Juice shit. The temp on my dash read 90°. Kids walked down Butler Street mantled with beach towels from the Douglass and DeGraw Pool. Spotted lanternflies dive-bombed my legs. Thank god I lotioned my pale neck. When the powers-that-be finally allowed us entry, the musk of maryjane and malignant body odor was thick. Now I knew (it hit me in the fucking face) what that PHUNKE license plate was all about. “Funk,” from the French dialectal funkière: “to blow smoke on.” I’m not complaining, though—it was a communal fumigation. We were funky technicians, one and all.

“The Nursery” that Public Records has built falls somewhere between greenhouse and Zen garden. The square space is essentially an urban enclosure where pine and plane trees and fresh lumber create a private performance patio, a paradise just beyond the concertina wire, as woods might say. The stage is bedecked with potted cacti, while I spied A. Richter across the way with his Fujifilm GA645Zi amongst the bamboo stalks. ELUCID’s green Champion mesh football jersey (the Bo Jackson jersey in the laundry, apparently) matched the soundsystem monitors, and I found what little shade there was to be had and huddled close to the soundman’s booth, a shed of glass. I almost managed to forget I was cordoned off by beige shipping containers. 

It wasn’t long before I was entertaining the idea of going full Fatboi Sharif, i.e., shirtless. Sharif himself only made it through half his set before shedding his garb—there wasn’t even a hospital gown in sight. The heat was on as soon as he came out to Can Ox’s “Scream Phoenix”—rising from flames. El-P’s Phillip Glass sample could’ve easily made a Sharif beat (we’re only talking a single generation removal, really). Sharif made quick work of some of his most recent altered realities. “Static Vision” included a call [I ain’t scared!] and response [Motherfucker, I ain’t scared!]. He ran through “Phantasm,” “Dimethyltryptamine,” “Designer Drugs,” “Think Pieces,” and “The Christening” like a buxom blonde through an abandoned building, revving chainsaw in pursuit. At times, his speech slurred into a makeshift Swahili (word to This Heat). It was strange to see Sharif in daylight, sunstruck, as I’m so used to seeing him in blood-flooded cellars or Joseph Conrad’s heart of darkness environs, like he alludes to on “Dimethyltryptamine.” He barreled through ventricles, riding shotgun in Sir Menelik’s Space Cadillac. DJ Boogaveli (who hypes up Sharif like it’s a pep rally at Springwood High) shouted about family at the start of “The Christening,” which sounded sincere compared to the tone Sharif takes on Decay—there the family must be of the Manson or Duggar milieu. He finished the track acapella, exhausting the last of his energy, only to reinvigorate and reanimate for a rioting rendition of “Smithsonian.”

I’ve yet to invest the necessary time into Cavalier’s work, though I know him from his association with Quelle Chris. With an album coming down the pike from Backwoodz, I found myself in the lucky position of witnessing his set incapable of discerning old material from new. He took centerstage, acting as his own hype-man and DJ (though he did high-five the invisible “DJ Light-skin” at one point), and his kineticism was immediately apparent. His floral button-down danced over his body as he rapped vitally. I felt vivisected by his exhortations and incisive observations. Keep in mind, my age prohibits me from becoming enthralled by any performer whose work I’m unfamiliar with—a sort of neuropathy of the soul. But he had me open and endeared by the time he implored, Put the tiger balm on it, put the tiger balm. As you wish, Cav. I lathered my chest.

“Y’all believe in magic? No? That’s okay.” Cav said it so quickly that he didn’t give anyone a chance to answer, but he assumed correctly, I think. Still, I was smitten by his conjurations—he made me a believer (no small task). “King me,” he rapped, “I’m trying to make it all across the board.” And, by the end of it, he had the entire crowd shouting “KING ME” back at him without a problem. MAKE SOME BLOODCLOT NOISE! he growled, and we didn’t need to be asked twice. IT’S VIBRATIONAL, AIN’T IT? With a seemingly innocuous phrase he was able to summon the spirit of the crowd. Over the course of his 25-minute set, I heard him rhyme epiglottis, brag of spitting a verse while performing cunnilingus, give a lesson on homophones, and regale us with stories of winking at cops in Whole Foods. “From the Tree of Life I smoke foliage,” he said, and the trees Betty Smith saw grow in Brooklyn circulated through his lungs. “We need to bring back weed spots—it’s not nostalgia.” Though he did rap nostalgically at times, letting us know he was born in BK, went to school not far from where we stood, and though he’s representing the 504 now, Brooklyn born-and-raised ossified his being into bone.

THIS IS CHURCH, YA FEEL ME? And I did feel him. I spent the week culling quotes about improvisation from Amiri Baraka’s Black Music (1967) for another self-assignment (I don’t work for anyone, son), and highlighted this passage: “...to go back in any historical (or emotional) line of ascent in Black music leads us inevitably to religion, i.e., spirit worship. This phenomenon is always at the root in Black art, the worship of spirit—or at least the summoning of or by such force.” [Peace to Kehinde Alonge—always at the ready with choicest recommendations.] Cavalier danced upon the altar and rapped his sermon relentlessly, tirelessly. I was raised up on tippy-toes, enthralled by the force of his spirit. THIS AIN’T JAZZ?! he asked. WHAT THE FUCK THEY TALKIN’ ABOUT MAN? I don’t know who’s doing that sort of talking, but they’d be hard-pressed to say such a thing in this public gathering. “Brooklyn, this is how it feels—all of us together: this is how it feels.” I believed in Cavalier’s magic by the end of his set. I was charmed by his satchel of High John de Conqueror. Let me know where to Venmo my tithe. 

The heat index had my vision tunneling. When Armand Hammer stepped on stage, sounds were moving in reverse, and the Class-A dynamite duo took us back (way back) in time, when ELUCID was in “fifth grade in [his] dad jeans” and he “played Game Boy in the backseat.” woods, with his first words of the afternoon, said he “rather be codependent than co-defendants.” This must’ve been “Landlines,” the lead-off from the new album, seeing as how they shouted-out JPEGMAFIA, ELUCID rapped “leave a message after the beep,” and a dial tone toned between verses. It was off the hook, as they say.

They seemed to be following the official We Buy Diabetic Test Strips tracklist, because next up was “Woke Up and Asked Siri How I’m Gonna Die” (a song with a title so long that it must’ve come from the magnum mind of ELUCID). She replied, she replied, she replied�� they repeated, but I didn’t quite catch what that chatbotbitch said. woods refashioned a line from “Remorseless” with “Life’s a blip, I’m swimming under the radar.” Life’s a blip and then you die, that’s why we puff lye. Further deepening the uncanny valley, their third offering to the musty masses included “fake trees in the Apple Store.” I’m sensing something about the excesses of tech after a cursory listen to these WBDTS tracks, the detritus and pollution it produces. To quote my damn self, something in line with “...a cell tower with evergreen branches: / …a drone with seagull feathers.” ELUCID revived “a double portion of protection for [him] and [his] niggas,” explaining he’s “trying to only say what’s necessary.” By any means, sir. 

Cavalier was welcomed back to the stage for “I Keep A Mirror in My Pocket,” another new joint with Preservation on production. We the audience felt, collectively, like we were in the belly of the beast—those shipping container walls (a real Season 2 of The Wire sensation)—as Cav chorused and signified about the Big Bad Wolf. A cautionary tale, indeed. I can see clearly how Cavalier fits within the Backwoodz cadre. 

The content of the next number left no question of its title. “Niggardly (Blocked Call),” if I was asked to predict, will be the cynosure of the new album. (Yeah, you heard me right dog, I said cynosure.) Produced by August Fanon (who was in the place to be—a rare appearance from an elusive mastermind who would humbly demur if you called him such, I’m supposing), the song has an R0 = 15 infectious hook: “Admittedly niggardly, I won’t even give these niggas bad energy.” woods, what with his penchant for scales and measurements, boils everything “down to the last red cent.” How does he do it? Well, MY HEART PUMP KETAMINE, he yells. We find woods in one of his ruthless, no Vaseline moods: “I eat knowing I’m starving my enemies.” Revenge is like the sweetest joy next to spending time with your kids, and woods picked up where his verse from “As the Crow Flies” left off. He closed his eyes and rapped to the rafters and the sky:

I write when my baby’s asleep, I sit in the room, in the dark, I listen to him breathe, I walk him to school and then the park,  Hold they little hands while we cross the street, I think about my brother who is long gone, And this is all he ever dreamed.

ELUCID and woods repeated admittedly niggardly back-and-forth at the end, delighted with the wordplay. 

They kept riding the August Fanon beatwork like Thomas Sankara in the Renault 5 as the killer chords from “Smile Lines” crept in. The crowd response was screw-faced sneers and shouted lyrics. One youngblood knew the song front to back, beginning to end—ELUCID acknowledged him from the stage: “Peace to the homie out there—he knew every word, man.” I watched the dude beam from the compliment. Even after writing profusely—profusely (fuck Caltrops and his non-existent editor, here comes the predator…)—about woods and ELUCID, I still can’t memorize their lines. Chalk it up to some neurological incapacity that arrived in my 30s. I envy those who commit songs like “Smile Lines” and “Smith + Cross” to memory. My not-so-supple gray matter just can’t cut it anymore.

My expectations for We Buy Diabetic Test Strips were upended by the tracks they debuted. I’d speculated an abrasive noise event; a Sheet Metal Music for the new millennium we’ll never reach; a kind of Schoolly D “P.S.K.” FML swagger. There’s certainly elements of that, just not as much as I was anticipating. (And who knows what noise the as-yet-unheard tracks might bring.) I assumed the shared space with Soul Glo over the past several years, the screechings zapped through the receiver on the toll-free number, and their recent appearance on Shapednoise’s Absurd Matter would be an indication of the Shape of Rap to Come. Speaking of which, woods sludged through his verse from “Family” before DJ Haram’s scrapyard percussion ushered in “Trauma Mic.” 

Haram was at the helm for the entirety of Armand Hammer’s set, and she reveled and felt every ounce of her own beat. The buzzsaw sounds were like Baraka’s description of Don Ayler’s trumpet: “long blasts…in profound black technicolor.” ELUCID’s traumatized mic draped over his shoulder for the opening anvil strikes. He needed his hands free to clap in rhythm. The gesture was reminiscent, again, of Baraka’s analysis of the saxophone held by Albert Ayler (the elder Ayler), “a howling spirit summoner tied around the ‘mad’ Black man’s neck.”

The “Trauma Mic” video had me thinking on thematics of refuse and rubbish—you best protect your dreck. I thought back to the garbology Aesop sifted through, where I saw Bakunin’s barricades in the city streets and revisited the actions of The Motherfuckers in the late ’60s—they stood in solidarity with striking sanitation workers and dumped garbage at the doorstep of Lincoln Center. Armand Hammer—outfitted as scrappers, pitching barrels and coiling skeins of copper wire—are of the same spirit. They propose a cultural exchange of garbage for garbage.

woods bodied “No Hard Feelings” and was joined by damn-near the entire crowd. Had it sounding like a tenant revolt as we all screamed, LIKE THEY STEALING! The Aethiopes track equals, if not outright overtakes, “Asylum” and “Remorseless” as most affecting in the past year’s blitz of performances. 

ELUCID stood on the precipice, at the edge of the stage, as he rapped through “Barbarians.” He went swimming into the crowd with his free arm, astro-spiritually. The refrain of “Who the fuck are you?” evolved from the accusatory tone heard on Rome to an existential “Who the fuck am I?” ELUCID and woods bandied the question between them like two college kids in the dorms at 2AM, faded as fidduck. The “intelligent fist” of woods and the “mysticism” of ELUCID (to use an equation Baraka applied to Milford Graves and Sonny Murray) working together to produce a manic mix. They kept the marriage going through “Mangosteen” before turning to the heliocentric worlds they invented in collaboration with the Alchemist on Haram. “Black Sunlight” and “Falling Out the Sky” had me thinking of Baraka (again!): “It only takes two to start a group. If the two are maturely strong, and have a oneness, then the others will feel it and touch their own sound, voice, or whatever.”

ELUCID’s last solo number was “Spellling,” and by then he was spent but still perseverating in the dopest way possible. “This is a physical experience,” ELUCID said as the song began, asking the soundman to turn the volume up higher. IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII been spelling, he spoketh [an ever ever elongated I and a shot-to-the-dome of “been”]. The I Told Bessie opener became what Baraka calls “an antiphonal rhythmic chant-poem-moan.” ELUCID’s voice was ragged by this point, a metallic scrape as he shouted about being “your momma’s favorite, since about ’88, ’89.” The down in “just got to heaven and I can’t sit down” was made malleable in how he twisted it around in his mouth. Split tongue heavy lifting.

He had nothing left when the alarming squeal whistle warp of “Stonefruit” started to play. But the audience assisted, screaming with him I REALLY CAME IN ON A CYCLONE as his voice gave out. woods jumped in early when it was his turn, which proved a moment of levity. To err is human, and woods—despite the adoration he’s been receiving—is endearingly human. That humanity is probably why so many of Armand Hammer’s fans have become zealous collectors, showing up at the venue with cardboard boxes full of vinyl, willing to wait patiently for woods and ELUCID to write their names in metallic Sharpies on these their prized possessions. “First Armand Hammer show in the states in a while,” woods said at one point. “Small flex,” ELUCID noted, chuckling. But they brought it home on Saturday. It was “As the Crow Flies” made manifest. woods brought all the Backwoodz family on stage at the conclusion of their set. The family atmosphere afforded by the 3PM start time was embellished by the sight of children on shoulders. It had the feel of a triumphant affair. It’s winning, it’s winning, it’s winning…

Peace to the conversations that were had with Alex Richter, Willie Green, Max Heath, and Sharif.

Photos credit:  Rory Simms

AH setlist:

1.  Landlines 2.  Woke Up and Asked Siri How I’m Gonna Die 3.  [???] 4.  I Keep A Mirror In My Pocket 5.  Niggardly (Blocked Call) 6.  Smile Lines 7.  Family 8.  Trauma Mic 9.  No Hard Feelings 10.  [???] 11.  Barbarians 12.  Mangosteen 13.  Black Sunlight 14.  Falling Out the Sky 15.  Spellling  16. Stonefruit

[sinceileftyoublog]

Pitchfork Music Festival 2023: 5 Can’t-miss Non-headliner Sets

700 Bliss

BY JORDAN MAINZER

After four long years, yours truly finally returns to Pitchfork Music Festival. While the pandemic cancelled 2020′s iteration, contributor Daniel Palella filled in for 2021, and we entirely missed 2022 (I got married!), four years lacking Chicago’s most laid-back, yet forward thinking festival proved to be too many. While I can’t wait to see The Smile, Big Thief, and Bon Iver, I’d be remiss not to recommend these 5 can’t-miss non-headliner sets.

Trevor Powers of Youth Lagoon; Photo by Tyler T. Williams

FRIDAY

Youth Lagoon, 4:15 PM, Green Stage

Last month, Trevor Powers released Heaven Is a Junkyard (Fat Possum) his first Youth Lagoon music since 2015′s Savage Hills Ballroom. If earlier, beloved Youth Lagoon records were miniature epics that embraced a sort of hazy nostalgia, Heaven Is a Junkyard is more subdued, soulful, and limited in scope. It’s also Powers’ most focused and best record, the deepest he’s dived into a world. In 2021, Powers lost his voice as a result of a horrific reaction to an over-the-counter medication, eventually losing 30 pounds and, temporarily, his ability to speak. As a result of the unfortunate circumstances, he went into a deep depression, but thankfully decided to focus his energy on Idaho, and ultimately, his songwriting and the return of Youth Lagoon. Heaven Is a Junkyard could be difficult to listen to, with images of blood-stained clothes and drug addicts sleeping outside on mattresses. It’s not because of Powers’ embrace of his surroundings. “Heaven is a junkyard / And it’s my home,” he sings on “The Sling”. His clear sense of empathy for the downtrodden shapes his familial perspectives, too, thankful for brotherly love, even if disguised as roughhousing, on “Prizefighter” and “Trapeze Artist”. And Heaven Is a Junkyard is musically adventurous, too, from the looped drums, handclaps, and cello of “Mercury” to the ghostly synth arpeggios of “Helicopter Toy” and disintegrating ambient instrumental interlude “Lux Radio Theatre”, which wouldn’t sound out of place on a Boards of Canada album. Live, expect to hear much of Heaven Is a Junkyard along with cuts from the first two Youth Lagoon albums.

SATURDAY

700 BLISS, 2:30 PM, Green Stage

One of our favorite albums of last year was the sophomore LP from 700 BLISS, the venerable duo of poet/musician Camae Ayewa (aka Moor Mother) and DJ Haram. Nothing To Declare, their first record for Hyperdub, traverses genres (techno, noise, ambient) and moods (serious and political, facetious and sarcastic). Get there early on Saturday for some heady words and beats in the sun!

SUNDAY

JPEGMAFIA, 4:15 PM, Green Stage

In 2019, rapper JPEGMAFIA gave the most energetic set at Pitchfork. This year should be no different: Since then, he released one of our favorite albums of that year mere months later, a very good follow-up two years after that, and this year, a collaborative album with his favorite rapper, Danny Brown. He’s called the new one, SCARING THE HOES (Awal), a “practice album,” made with the SP-404--no Pro Tools--after learning it for a year. It certainly has that loose quality you’d think, alongside the exact amount of chaos you’d expect from the debut full-length join-up from these two. Of course, Peggy finds kinship in the deep cuts and the underground, from the underappreciated Bun B to old soul and funk, Japanese pop, and gospel. The samples and production are inspired. At the same time, Peggy knows he’s your favorite Twitter follow’s favorite rapper, so the title itself, referring to something a Very Online Man would say who thinks his taste is too esoteric for women, is tongue-in-cheek. “How the fuck we supposed to make money of this shit?” Peggy asks on the title track. “You wanna be an MC? What the fuck you think, it’s 1993?” The only thing better than effortless tempo changes, switches on a dime from maximalism to dreamy instrumentation, is self-awareness of his own idiosyncrasies. Bonus points for “God Loves You”, which juxtaposes a guttural, spirited gospel sample with the filthiest lyrics on the album.

Sarah Tudzin of illuminati hotties; Photo by Seannie Bryan

illuminati hotties, 5:15, Blue Stage

It’s been a big past few years for Sarah Tudzin, the frontperson of LA indie rock band illuminati hotties. Their 2021 record Let Me Do One More (Hopeless) was released to acclaim, one of our favorites of that year. She contributed a remix to the deluxe addition of the latest Stars album as well as production to a few songs on boygenius’ the record. Best, she’s apparently finishing up her next record. Perhaps the first taste of it is “Truck”, released yesterday ahead of the band’s Pitchfork performance and tour with boygenius. It’s a slice of gentle, lilting Americana, a song about chasing your dreams versus learning to live with reality. Expect to hear it during the band’s set at Pitchfork, along with some rambunctious, hilarious back catalog jammers.

Kelela, 7:25 PM, Red Stage

The brilliant R&B artist’s second studio album, Raven (Warp), is a culmination of a period of reflection following her debut album six years prior, Take Me Apart. Despite electronic dance music’s Black and queer origins, Kelela’s feeling restrained within the music world as it exists today, within its white, male hegemonic power structure. She’s keeping on anyway, and on Raven, she delivers a brilliantly paced back and forth between club jams and slow burns, beat-heavy tracks and ambient expressions. There are plenty of songs about relationships and the dissolution thereof, but Kelela can control what she can control: her artistic voice. “Through all the labor / A raven is reborn / They tried to break her / There’s nothing here to mourn,” she declares on the pulsating, zooming title track, as the instrumentation gradually and masterfully builds with sprinkles of piano and dramatic strings. And on standout “Contact”, Kelela captures a night out, from the come-up to the club or party itself. It’s a dance song that could have dominated the charts in an alternate 90′s universe. One thing’s for sure: It’ll be a highlight at this year’s festival.

[radiophd]

dj haram -- no funeral

[maquina-semiotica]

DJ Haram, "Interlude"

[jacobwren]

Armand Hammer - Trauma Mic feat. Pink Siifu

[vip-art]

(via Not Your Habib Active T-Shirt by Link64zelda)

[shineemoon]

ONEW•JONGHYUN•KEY•MINHO•TAEMIN… '15th Anniversary' SHINee's 'RACE'

Since the debut in 2008, SHINee has been considered a role model for many K-pop artists as both a group and solo artists. Not only did all the members release solo albums, but they also have a solid career in various fields such as entertainment, acting, musicals, and fashion. SHINee, who has been developing personal skills not only through the team but also through solo activities, announced that they will reunite to mark the 15th anniversary of their debut this year. While high expectations are being placed on the synergy that 'Complete SHINee' will show, we looked back at SHINee's brilliant solo career.

Unrivaled ‘VOICE’ Onew. Onew, who sang many drama OSTs and collaboration songs, released his first solo album ‘VOICE’ in December 2018, which was filled with his own lyrical music, once again proving his warm tone and outstanding singing ability. He solidified his position as a unique vocalist by presenting a fresh and refreshing charm with ‘DICE’ and a healing song that comforts the listeners with his first regular album ‘Circle’ Last March, he held his solo concerts in Korea and Japan, thrilling his global fans with a high-quality performance that combines colorful music, performance, and scent production. He also played the role of Haram in the musical 'Midnight Sun' and received favorable reviews for his delicate portrayal of his shy character. Unchanging team's ‘BASE’ Jonghyun Jonghyun, who was recognized for his solid skills early on with his refreshing vocals, has released his first solo album ‘BASE’, his first collection 'Story Op.1', his first full-length album 'She Is', his second collection 'Story Op.2' and his second full-length album 'Poet | Artist', the albums that show a wide spectrum of music have received enthusiastic responses from music fans. In addition, he participated in the lyrics and composition of various songs that cross genres, such as his solo album songs, SHINee's hit songs 'Juliette' and 'View', Taemin's 'Pretty Boy', and EXO's 'PLAYBOY'. For about three years from 2014, he communicated with listeners every night as a radio DJ and gave warm comfort, and he was active in various fields such as publishing the novel “Skeleton Flower: Things That Have Released and Set Free”.

Always new ‘FACE’ Key Key is showing off his versatility in music, entertainment, fashion, etc. to the extent that he is called 'all-around cheat key'. He opened wide the door as a solo artist with his first full-length album 'FACE', and with the so-called 'retro trilogy' leading to his first mini-album 'BAD LOVE', his 2nd full-length album 'Gasoline' and repackage 'Killer', he presented music and performances with a unique charm that can be heard. In addition, Key is displaying an excellent sense of entertainment in popular entertainment programs such as tvN's 'Amazing Saturday' and MBC's 'I Live Alone'. Accordingly, it was realized that he was receiving high public attention by winning the Male Excellence Award in the variety category at the '2022 MBC Broadcasting Entertainment Awards', and winning the '2022 Brand Customer Loyalty Awards' and the '2022 Brand of the Year Awards' for two consecutive years in the entertainment idol male category. Challenges with passion ‘CHASE’ Minho Minho, a 'passionate character' in the music industry, has played a prominent role in various entertainment shows, including sports variety programs since his debut, combining his superior physique, passion that burns like a flame, wit and sense. He also showed his smooth hosting skills as an entertainment MC, including various award ceremonies and the original TVing ‘Webtoon Singer’. In addition, Minho showed a variety of performances across the spectrum through dramas such as tvN's ‘The Most Beautiful Goodbye’ and Netflix series ‘The Fabulous’, as well as movies 'Inrang' and ‘Jangsari: Forgotten Heroes’. In December last year, he released his first mini-album ‘CHASE’ filled with hip-hop and R&B genres with his own emotions, filling the last puzzle piece of SHINee's solo album. K-pop ‘ACE’ Taemin Taemin announced his solo debut as the first member of SHINee with his first mini-album ‘ACE’ in 2014. With the hit songs ‘MOVE’ and ‘WANT’, he caused the so-called ‘Move’ and 'WANT' syndrome and won awards in the album and best dance performance solo categories at various awards ceremonies. In addition, Taemin is loved by fans all over the world for his excellent vocals and powerful performance skills, as he has various modifiers such as 'Yeoksolnam (all-time solo male singer)' and 'Taemdol (Taemin is also a role model)'. He has established himself as an irrefutable "ACE" of K-pop by proving his powerful global power by successfully completing his first arena tour 17 times in six cities across Japan in 2019.

SHINee is set to release a new full-length album to mark the 15th anniversary of their debut this year. (Source: xportsnews)

[schismusic]

THE DISCOGRAPHY PRINCIPLE, Episode 6: Kraftwerk - or, Electro-Shock for President

I've actually been sitting on this one for a really long time. It's hard to think of anything meaningful to add in the presence of History itself.

TIME Magazine had this cute cover out on February 8th, 1993 — a guy sits on his computer, his left eye is prosthetic and the cables from the CRT screen swerve and swirl towards a purple spiral in the background. Big title in the middle, CYBERPUNK, and right under there a small blurb that reads like an amateur Steam developer trying to make his generic-ass game set in twenty-seventy-something appealing to you. It's mesmerizing to think that the early 1990s were still a time where you could legitimately hope for a cyberpunk utopia without hearing your own personal Seinfeld laugh track in your head. Of course this devolved into one of the foundational bits of reading in my teenage years: Ondarock's biographic pieces about specific artists and bands. Eddy Cilìa — one of the deans of Italian music criticism — wrote one about Kraftwerk that at one point says the following (translated to English by yours truly):

"… if Kraftwerk's music is still to this day all bent forward, lyrics and visual concepts still taste more like modern antiques than they do modernity. Theirs is a vision of the future hailing from a past when it was possible to imagine prosperous and tidy days to come, with squeaky-clean cities, immense green spaces, eight-lane highways overruled by giant electronic brains. Before the petrol wars and microchips. Before Blade Runner. Before cyberpunk. Before we realized we were fucked. Those who know that unforgettable William Gibson short story, The Gernsback Continuum (off of Burning Chrome) will understand."

Cue the BBC using Kraftwerk's Musique Non Stop and Electric Café to soundtrack William Gibson reading some of the bleakest bits off of Count Zero (I'm gonna link the program here, but unfortunately the bits where the tracks play have been muted, so there's that). I don't even find it infuriating or distracting or inappropriate, even: at this point cyberpunk as an aesthetic is modern antique, whereas cyberpunk as a collection of themes wildly oscillates between the hopelessly romantical and the unfortunately timely. Both of these things very aptly describe Kraftwerk's Electric Café, the last record with the classic lineup of Hütter, Schneider, Bartos, Flür. Electric Cafè, or Techno Pop for either irredeemable zoomers or the unlucky few who worked with the band from 1982 to 1986, sounds like someone trying really hard to be relevant: Sex Object is like one degree of separation away from Depeche Mode, minus the inherent sexiness of Depeche Mode — as retroactively superimposed as it may be — and as such laughable, and not in a good way. Basically the entirety of side one (perhaps even The Telephone Call, if Computer Love didn't already exist) would go stupid hard if it had come out on, for instance, in The Man-Machine era. Unfortunately the record feels too thematically unsound to work the way a Kraftwerk record usually works, mostly because for the first time ever the band seem to take the concept with actual seriousness.

So many people focus on the supposed future-proof nature of Kraftwerk which in retrospect kind of feels a bit laughable — it's like when some of these YouTube guys allow the possibility that the work of a band like Boards of Canada "still sounds fresh". It's good, obviously, but can we really close our eyes and pretend like no one ever considers making intentionally warbly sounding electronic music in the year of our Lord two-thousand-and-twenty-four, where people are falling head over heels for the new Oneohtrix Point Never record? Kraftwerk is dated, because Gary Numan and John Foxx and Depeche Mode and Afrika Bambaataa and the Soul-Sonic Force and Cybotron and Model 500 and Aphex Twin and Autechre and Deadmau5 and Avicii and Skrillex and NERO and Caterina Barbieri and DJ Haram and Suzi Analog and so many others exist and have, in their own way, dated. That is exactly what makes Kraftwerk the greatest. Their studio production mostly wears its age with confidence: sure, if you want to be terrible to it you could argue it sounds like a bunch of Apple IIe terminals desperately fighting for their life in the bathroom after a night out at Taco Bell, but that would fundamentally miss the core point which is that they very clearly fucking knew that this was going to happen. And even their lyrical optimism is much darker than most give them credit for. Like, seriously, stop and think for a moment: science fiction in the 1970s was all about aliens, everywhere. Isaac fucking Asimov, robot dude par excellence, wrote a book about aliens for the first and, if memory serves, only time in the year 1972, and then never again. The highway was a gleefully old fashioned concept to be excited about, and so was the train — more so than the highway, actually. They hopped back onto the zeitgeist with Computer World, but again, it was minimal, barren, and the lyrics used to bite. The German version of the title track, for instance, loves to remind the listener that "Interpol und Deutsche Bank, FBI und Scotland Yard, Finanzamt und das BKA haben unsere Daten da" — they have our data there!

A while back there used to be this great blog on this site called One Week One Band where they once did a week fully dedicated to Kraftwerk which explains most of the shit I would be going on in this post, and does so in a much more interesting and accurate way than I could ever; obviously so, since I'm writing at 3:20am because I had a really rough Tuesday night which fucked up my sleep schedule into unrecognizability. Anyway yeah I'm not even going to try to actually get into the lyrics, mostly because I never really gave a shit, minus the funny bits about meeting Iggy Pop and David Bowie from station to station back to Düsseldorf city and that bit about how they want to fuck an up-and-coming starlet (Big Black really upped the sleaziness factor in their cover, actually making it sound more like Kraftwerk's backstage activities — at least according to Wolfgang Flür — than Kraftwerk's recorded output); the short version is that it's simply insane to me that nobody ever bothered thinking "goddamn, this is simply too shiny and chrome and polite to be serious, and how the fuck am I supposed to take the robot disguise seriously, maybe they're taking the piss somewhat?", which is extremely egregious given the very nerdy humor on constant display in their lyrics and song titles — Antenna, for instance, reads like a dirty poem on a trade school's toilet stall, and I don't think I have to add anything to Ohm Sweet Ohm. But what do you know: as some of you might have guessed I like nerdy humor that makes no sense and fails catastrophically at conveying any sense of zest and class and sexiness, because Kraftwerk never meant to be fucking sexy. They wanted to make volksmusik, i.e. a literal German translation of popular music. They succeeded.

In case you're wondering, my favourite Kraftwerk record changes depending which one I've listened to the most recently, but gun to my head I would probably say Trans Europe Express. I spent a lot of time listening more or less exclusively to the German language versions of some of these records, and it's weird using the English titles for me, but ultimately it makes more sense. If it is to be volksmusik, in this day and age, it has to be musik of all volk, and as such of all folks, and statistically speaking there are more people speaking English than German — at least in my personal social circle. Anyway, the thing about TEE could be this: the beauty of it is that it has everything in itself, but the real kicker is that none of that is made explicit to the fullest. All of the sequenced hopping synthpop, the melancholy melodies of New Romantic, the drive and danceability of hip hop, a certain sense of coldness that post-punk as a whole would make its own — see Ian Curtis's obsession with this particular record (and, on a slightly different note, how the surviving members of New Order would go on to sample Uranium, which if you ask me might rank as one of the hardest interlude tracks on any record ever) — are here but in very throwaway forms, i.e. they do not make the case for themselves. In the moment of their conception, they must have been seen as ad-hoc arrangement tactics, perhaps even as a holistic compositional approach: they are not their own justification, nobody woke up and said "I am going to make a whole record about this here technique", as testimonied by the change in mission statement right in the middle of the making. The band had been recording trains to see if they could use the inherent rhythm in their motion to make something danceable, but they realized it didn't work because they'd have to be sped up to unrecognizability; so, they dropped the field recording/tape loop idea and recreated the groove in the studio with conventional drums. On the other hand, cue John Foxx turning into a Ballardian neon-lit dandy for his solo debut, extrapolating on TEE's sounds to better delineate a colder, more anthropic, more impersonal, more atonal and (why not?) perhaps more violent European landscape.

Sure one might argue that their reference landmarks are predominantly European, predominantly focused on the classical era of music (1600s-1800s, very roughly), predominantly if not entirely diatonic, but their opus very clearly works — it very clearly has worked, over and over again — as a potentially ever-expandable theoretical framework. Their minimalism became the empty spaces it left open, the boxes it didn't tick. As much inspiration as Kraftwerk drew from funk, a slight increase of the funk coefficient on the part of black artists in the United States invented techno, hip-hop, electro. Kraftwerk didn't, themselves, change the face of contemporary popular music, they "simply" allowed other people to reshape contemporary popular music a hundred times over. It feels like a miracle to listen to this music in the current day and age.

[djregular]

What's Good is live for the final Bandcamp Friday of the year, and it's chock-a-block with good stuff. New joints from andrew, VEYLS, Peter Gabriel, KNOWER, Rakaa, Mars Kumari, Chelsea Wolfe, Roy Rutto, DJ Haram, Elzhi & Oh No, and much more!

Have a few of my faves as a taster, then get over to the blog to check out the whole plate, with playlists!

[sinceileftyoublog]

SILY's Top Albums of 2023

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Another year of settling into "the new normal" in the music world, for better or for worse, still brought us great records. The underground NYC hip hop scene burst with creativity. Rock and Roll Hall of Famers reinvented old songs. Stalwarts of experimental music, contemporary jazz, and modern-day blues released their career bests. Even archivists had their day. Below are 16 great albums released last year and 6 more honorable mentions no less worthy of inclusion--I just didn't have time to write about them.

Armand Hammer - We Buy Diabetic Test Strips (Fat Possum)

It's all in the title: on their sixth album, billy woods and E L U C I D navigate through a society where not only is shit that should be free, expensive, but a secondhand market encourages hustlers to make a profit. Amidst capitalist corruption and individualism, the threat of an AI takeover and close calls getting caught with drugs, both emcees face the bleakness while occasionally imagining a better world. As always, the victories are small, but mighty: good weed ("Woke Up And Asked Siri How I'm Gonna Die"), morally righteous laundromat owners ("When It Doesn't Start With A Kiss"), the freedom to bask in schadenfreude ("Niggardly (Blocked Call)"). And yes, it takes a lot for two slow lurching wordsmiths to rise above production from the likes of JPEGMAFIA, DJ Haram, and EL-P, always-inspired samples ranging from E-40 to Sun Ra and Japanese rock band Ghost, and features from Pink Siifu, Junglepussy, and Moor Mother. But they deftly connect the dots from centuries ago to now, presenting societal dysfunction as a core component of our country and world. "George Washington's heart a frozen river, boy / Opps in the backwoods, slave teeth in the mouth when he say ni**a," woods raps, as if to shock you out of complacency and make you numb to the horrors at the same time.

Arooj Aftab, Vijay Iyer, & Shahzad Ismaily - Love In Exile (Verve)

It's hard to believe that Love In Exile, the first collaboration between singer Arooj Aftab, legendary jazz pianist Vijay Iyer, and multi-instrumentalist Shahzad Ismaily, was recorded live with minimal overdubs. Then again, it's clear there's something special brewing within the trio, who first performed together in 2018. That is, the way in which each performer enters and exits and weaves within another is as natural as it is stunning. On Love In Exile, Aftab sings in Urdu--the sound of her words mattering just as much if not more than their meaning--and Iyer plays piano and electronics, Ismaily bass and Moog. The result is an interplay between beauty and dissonance, minimalism and swells of noise, intimacy and grandiosity. Iyer's piano seems like it's increasingly sure of itself on opener "To Remain/To Return" as Aftab's smoky voice resembles a soulful, mournful reed. Ismaily's bass is slow-lurching and rounded throughout, the steady presence that only so much ripples on songs like "Eye of the Endless" as Aftab and Iyer provide contrast in timbre. Love In Exile is the type of album born out of a moment; yet, it gives seemingly endless pathways in which to get lost.

Arthur Russell - Picture of Bunny Rabbit (Audika)

Throughout Picture of Bunny Rabbit, Arthur Russell’s voice is as much of an instrument as his bowed cello, fading in and out on “Not Checking Up”, “Telling No On”, and “Very Reason”. The mysterious aura of Russell comes from both not knowing what’s out there and, on the music we do know exists, being unable to tell what he’s saying or what instruments he’s using. A rubbery whooshing pervades “The Boy With a Smile” and “In The Light of a Miracle”. The 8-minute title track sees dissonant cello disintegrating in real time, unfurling like tape over feedback squalls to the point where it sounds like a MIDI version of a guitar solo. At the same time, Russell always knew when to surface. The harmonica on “The Boy With a Smile” creates a rootsy tactility, the controlled chaos of his string playing yielding free percussion. Russell’s vocals rapidly shuffle on “In The Light of a Miracle”, though they’re as clear as ever, contrasting his sticky cello, plainly borrowing rhythms from Indian classical music.

Read the rest of our review here.

billy woods & Kenny Segal - Maps (BackwoodzStudioz)

The prolific billy woods’ second album with beat mastermind Kenny Segal is centered around touring, inspired by the idea that the road–or the lack of home–is, in itself, home. On Maps, places where people reside are as constantly changing as the landscapes that pass as you’re on the highway. It’s the perfect fodder for woods’ neuroses and pessimism, the low thoughts that occur when you have too much time on your hands but still can’t make sense of your surroundings. He’s constantly searching for stimuli–weed, food, drinks–to distract himself from the human condition. Like the titular “Houdini”, Woods escapes, even if temporarily.

Read the rest of our review of Maps here.

Bob Dylan - Shadow Kingdom (Columbia)

It wasn't just Taylor Swift rerecording their own catalog in 2023. As part of the soundtrack to Alma Har'el's 2021 film Shadow Kingdom: The Early Songs of Bob Dylan, the Bard himself gave us his new versions of old tracks, mostly his Dylan's 60s heyday, save for a new instrumental. Notably, it's his Dylan's record with a band with no drums or percussion, and it's a mystery who played on it, as there are no official credits. It's also his first album of new studio recordings since 2020 opus Rough and Rowdy Ways, so naturally, he leads off with a reflective "When I Paint My Masterpiece". In general, his arrangements are more gentle, from the swirling harmonicas and trailing strums of "Queen Jane Aproximately" to the bluesy, tempo-changing "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight". "Tombstone Blues" comes across like a spooky tale, slowed down, as opposed to the ramshackle stream of consciousness of the original, while the eerie and mournful "What Was It You Wanted" is a revelatory adaptation of the late 80's classic. And "Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues" shuffles along with a calypso groove, almost as if it's a tribute to the late Jimmy Buffett. He may not be doing it to regain the rights to his own songs, but on Shadow Kingdom, Dylan asserts that there's value in revisiting old friends.

Drive-By Truckers - The Complete Dirty South (New West)

The Complete Dirty South is us an opportunity to listen with 2023 ears to a 2004 album that’s truer than ever. The rich still get away with doing illegal things (“Where the Devil Don’t Stay”), increasingly intense weather patterns still devastate the poorest of communities (“Tornadoes”), and government austerity policies still force people to work longer hours, for lower pay (the incendiary “Putting People on the Moon”.) When Patterson Hood sings, “Motherfucker in the White House said a change was comin’ round / But I’m workin’ at the Walmart, Mary Alice in the ground,” it’s the much more realistic, downtrodden version of “Meet the new boss, same as the old boss,” a sharpshooting lyricist’s analysis of the devastating consequences of incrementalism, let alone inaction.

Read our preview of two Drive-By Truckers solo shows from December.

GOLD DIME - No More Blue Skies (No-Gold)

With No More Blue Skies, Andrya Ambro, the former half of No Wave-inspired Brooklyn indie rock duo Talk Normal has delivered the most distilled statement of her artistry to date. Combining her classical training and ethnomusicological studies as a drummer with the hammering intensity of her live performance, the album is a examination of contrast, an exercise in presenting ambiguous questions and smashing them to see if any answers lie within.

Read our review of GOLD DIME's career-best.

jaimie branch - Fly or Die Fly or Die Fly or Die (​(​world war​)​) (International Anthem)

Though the late trumpeter and composer jaimie branch’s third album Fly or Die Fly or Die Fly or Die ((world war)) is a final statement, it’s even more effective as an eternal one. It begins with keyboards that sound like church organs, an eerily somber sonic manifestation of irrevocability. As Chad Taylor’s rolling drums enter, branch gives us one of her trademark trumpet blares, as if to announce, “I’m here.” She wasn’t one to spend much more time announcing her presence, though–the track segues into an Afro-Latin style jam, clacking percussion and horns in line with Lester St. Louis’ nervy bowed cello. ((world war)) from then on spends most of its runtime just the way branch liked it, in a groove, with some breaks along the way to remind us of the urgency of the moment.

Read our review of Fly or Die Fly or Die Fly or Die ((world war)).

Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit - Weathervanes (Southeastern/Thirty Tigers)

Over the past few years, Jason Isbell’s had a lot of time to think. Pandemic and lockdown-induced isolation made us all spend a bit more time between our ears, and for Isbell, it was his experience on set for Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon that yielded even more alone time. These spaces in between catalyzed the creation of Weathervanes. Like Isbell’s best records, Weathervanes tackles many areas of life, from getting older and grappling with regret and depression to existing in an increasingly fraught and vulnerable world. What makes it succeed most is the extent to which he relied on his collaborators to make it, purportedly inspired by watching none other than Scorsese seek out the opinions of others while filming Flower Moon.

Read our preview of Isbell & the 400 Unit's show in Joliet last March.

JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown - Scaring the Hoes (AWAL)

JPEGMAFIA's called SCARING THE HOES a “practice album,” made with the SP-404–no Pro Tools–after learning it for a year. It certainly has that loose quality you’d think, alongside the exact amount of chaos you’d expect from the debut full-length join-up from him and Danny Brown. Of course, Peggy finds kinship in the deep cuts and the underground, from the underappreciated Bun B to old soul and funk, Japanese pop, and gospel. The samples and production are inspired. At the same time, Peggy knows he’s your favorite Twitter follow’s favorite rapper, so the title itself, referring to something a Very Online Man would say who thinks his taste is too esoteric for women, is tongue-in-cheek. “How the fuck we supposed to make money of this shit?” Peggy asks on the title track. “You wanna be an MC? What the fuck you think, it’s 1993?” The only thing better than effortless tempo changes, switches on a dime from maximalism to dreamy instrumentation, is self-awareness of his own idiosyncrasies. Bonus points for “God Loves You”, which juxtaposes a guttural, spirited gospel sample with the filthiest lyrics on the album.

Read our preview of Pitchfork Music Festival 2023, containing JPEGMAFIA, here.

Matana Roberts - Coin Coin Chapter Five: In The Garden... (Constellation)

On the 5th of their 12 planned Coin Coin albums, saxophone master Matana Roberts tells the story of an ancestor who died after complications from a self-inflicted abortion. Though it's a tragic story, Roberts reclaims the narrative and casts it as part of a wider tale of institutional racism, sexism, and classism. Songs with spoken word are interspersed throughout instrumental expressions of sounds as tangible as tin whistle and as abstract as synth, structures at times free and at times delving even into rock, let alone jazz bops. Each detail of story included is clearly intentional, meant to paint a picture of Roberts' ancestor while portraying their story as not unique. Roberts' spoken word--closer to voice acting, even--is incredible, as they repeat in varying levels of genuineness, "Well, they didn't know I was electric, alive, spirited, fired and free / My spirit overshadowing, my dreams to bombastic / My eyes too sparkling, my laughter too true." Their saxophone is expressive, yet mournful, providing motifs of lamentation and hope at once. On the penultimate "for they do not know", Roberts layers and repeats the album's main refrain, "My name is your name, our name is their name / We are named / We remember, they forget," as if to emphasize the prevalence of their ancestor's story throughout history. And closer "...ain't i...your mystery is our history" juxtaposes Western and African traditions, pointedly demonstrating that the evils brought upon their ancestor are rooted in colonialism and Western hegemony rather than a standalone calamity.

Robert Finley - Black Bayou (Easy Eye Sound)

Seven years into his improbable comeback, Robert Finley views his role as a singer and entertainer as twofold: meeting the audience at the heart while simultaneously giving them advice, telling them the barebones truth when other authority figures won’t. On Black Bayou, he reckons with ideas of homesickness and loneliness, lust and love, selflessness and salvation. Buoyed by longtime collaborator Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys, Finley wrote all of the songs in the studio, and his familiarity with his supporting cast of musicians resulted in songs that were both efficiently recorded and emotionally acute. Kenny Brown’s guitar winces with longing on “Livin’ Out A Suitcase” as Finley’s tired of traveling. On “Waste Of Time”, a song that sees Finley taking pride in rural living even if it means missing out on opportunities provided by cities, the buzz-saw guitars and Jeffrey Clemens’ clattering percussion yield a perfect maximalism to go along with Finley’s claims that, yes, there’s still a lot to digest right outside your doorstep.

Read our interview with Finley about Black Bayou here.

Sunny War - Anarchist Gospel (New West)

Sunny War battles self-destruction throughout Anarchist Gospel; in the lead-up to its release, she spoke about her music representing a battle between that side of herself and the one trying to make things better. On “New Day”, she uses the language of addiction to wax on love, hurt, and obsession: “Believing in magic can be tragic / I’m love’s junkie, I’m love’s addict.” One of the record’s true standouts is “I Got No Fight”, where pained guitars and screaming organs exemplify Sunny’s desire for the days to end, depression that buzzes like a fly in her ear. On the gorgeous country tune “His Love”, she sings of an unhealthy relationship, “His love fades, my love grows,” and the timbres of her voice and the instruments similarly diverge, her lurking deep vocal register contrasting the spryness of the backing vocals, guitars, and pattering drums.

Read our review of Anarchist Gospel.

Various Artists - Tell Everybody! (21st Century Juke Joint Blues From Easy Eye Sound) (Easy Eye Sound)

For the better part of the past decade, Dan Auerbach's Easy Eye Sound recording studio and record label has showcased some of the best in contemporary blues music, from various regions across the country and spanning sub-genres. Tell Everybody!, the label's latest compilation, makes the case that a current crop of songwriters, vocalists, and instrumentalists are making essential wartime-style juke joint blues numbers. It's comprised of alternate versions of songs from past Easy Eye Sound albums (Jimmy "Duck" Holmes' version of "Catfish Blues", Leo Bud Welch's glistening "Don't Let the Devil Ride"), posthumously released offerings from idiosyncratic legends like James Gang/Pacific Gas & Electric/All Saved Freak Band guitarist Glenn Schwartz, and strong statements from up and comers like Detroit Dobro-drummer duo Moonrisers, Chicago's Gabe Carter, and Kentucky picker Nat Myers. Auerbach even finds room for new songs from himself and The Black Keys, who sound better than they have in years by embracing the drippy psychedelia of their early material on "No Lovin'". And performing the title track (and baring teeth on the cover) is Robert Finley, whose daughter Christy Johnson delivers smooth gospel backing vocals to contrast Auerbach and Kenny Brown's searing guitars, the multi-generational sound of past, present, and future.

Wednesday - Rat Saw God (Dead Oceans)

“Hot Rotten Grass Smell”, the opening track to Wednesday's incredible Rat Saw God, immediately juxtaposes country guitars with shoegaze squall. Songwriter/vocalist/guitarist Karly Hartzman references Smog’s “The Well” before turning inward to a bleak vision: “Your closet froze after you left / Except the people who took your shirts / Closed off your door with yellow tape / Saw myself dead at the end of a staircase.” The song ends with a sudden cut to field recordings of peepers. Heartbreak, anxiety, life, death, both the natural environment and the concrete depression of the South. It’s all there for Hartzman’s poetry, and no moment is too small or too ordinary for worship.

Read our review of Rat Saw God.

Willie Nelson - I Don't Know A Thing About Love: The Songs of Harlan Howard (Legacy)

Part of me thinks living legend Willie Nelson would rather continue paying tribute to his forebears than do anything else. The late Harlan Howard essentially gave Nelson his first break after hearing some original tunes, signing him to the Pamper publishing imprint in the early 60's. Of course, last year, Nelson would go on to celebrate a 90th birthday and be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, while Howard, who passed away in 2002, is still mostly known behind the scenes, writing songs that would become immortalized by Buck Owens, Waylon Jennings, Ray Charles, and Brenda Lee. So leave it to Nelson to present Howard's best songs, with minimal arrangements, to emphasize the brilliance of his songwriting, the devastating simplicity of lines like "I'm about as helpless as a leaf in a gale." Nelson leads a stellar backing band through blues stomps ("Excuse Me (I Think I've Got A Heartache)", a screaming version of "Busted") and plaintive and empathetic waltzes ("Life Turned Her That Way"), exemplifying a three chords and the truth philosophy appropriate for all moods and experiences.

Honorable Mentions:

Bob Dylan - The Bootleg Series, Vol. 17: Fragments - Time Out Of Mind Sessions 1996-1997 (Columbia/Legacy)

The Clientele - I Am Not There Anymore (Merge)

Daniel Bachman - When The Roses Come Again (Three Lobed)

Danny Brown - Quaranta (Warp)

Gazelle Twin - Black Dog (Invada)

Lonnie Holley - Oh Me Oh My (Jagjaguwar)

[dustedmagazine]

Andrew Forell 2023 End of Year

Robert Forster, photo by Stephen Booth

2023 buzzed by in a whirl of too much work and music. So many records and so many missed. I kept going down rabbit holes of genre and artists, chasing and never quite hauling in all the things I wanted to, or felt I should, listen to. In the end, music being so difficult to rank, here, in alphabetical order are the records I spent most time with a bunch of others I’ve been recommending to anyone who would listen.

The Feelies – Some Kinda Love (Bar/None)

2023 has been a good year for guitar music.  New albums from Teenage Tom Petties, The Reds, Pinks and Purples, The Drin, The Tubs and The Murder Capital have been on high rotation here. So why a 2018 live tribute to a band who broke up in 1973 by a group in their fifth decade? First, these are songs are from The Velvet Underground, and second, simply, The Feelies. Joined by Richard Barone and Joey Maestro from The Bongos, they rip through a set that features the “hits” and some lesser-known songs with affection but not awe. Glenn Mercer and Bill Million’s guitars thrum in the style we are accustomed to, while Stanley Demeski, Dave Weckerman and Brenda Sauter provide rhythmic support which adds a dynamic swing to songs like “There She Goes Again,” “Head Held High” and “I’m Waiting For the Man.”  Some Kinda Love is a pure dopamine hit of great songs played by a brilliant band. Joy and fun in equal measure.

Robert Forster – The Candle and the Flame (Tapete)

On The Candle and the Flame Robert Forster produces some of the most emotionally direct and effecting songs of his career. Recorded in the shadow of his wife, Karen Bäumer’s diagnosis of, and treatment for ovarian cancer, Forster writes with grace about family, friendship, love and the past. The only song written in direct response to the illness “She’s A Fighter” contains only six words but the propulsive tension of the music expresses everything Forster doesn’t attempt to say. It’s an extraordinarily powerful performance, a cathartic blast, and for me, one of the songs of the year. “Tender Years,, “The Roads” and “When I Was A Young Man”  are also up there. As I said in my review “few (songwriters) imbue the quotidian joys of domestic life and the power of memory with such poetry.”

Iceboy Violet – Not a Dream But a Controlled Explosion (Fixed Abode)

On their self-produced album Not a Dream But A Controlled Explosion Iceboy Violet mixes rap, grime and swathes of liminal ambience into an emotionally purgative chronicle of identity, desire and fantasy which flows with a dreamlike intensity. Over deep pulses of sub-bass, taiko influenced percussion and concrete noise, their voice shifts in and out of focus, here a background whisper, there an urgent Northern accented boom. The music, like the vocals, is in constant flux, slipping between hard club beats and eerie ambience. At just 17 minutes, the eight tracks here stay with you for far longer.

The Inward Circles – Before We Lie Down in Darknesse (Stone Corbel Press)

Scottish composer Richard Skelton manipulates a six second fragment of Baroque recorder music taken from the run-out groove of a battered 50-year-old vinyl recording into haunted soundscapes that to tap into something primordial and elemental within layers built like geological strata. This is music to lose yourself in. Obsidian and glacial, Skelton’s work captures and preserves trace elements of melody and rhythm so imperceptible that you feel as much as hear them. Before We Lie Down in Darkness is a beautiful, timeless voyage andhas often eased me from insomniac anxiety to sleep in the last few months.

King Vision Ultra – Shook World (hosted by Algiers)

Using musical stems from Algiers’ Shook, found sound and collaborations with artists including ELUCID, Matana Roberts, DJ Haram, Dis Fig and Bigg Jus, King Vision Ultra’s self-styled mixtape is a companion piece and conversation with its source rather than a remix. A shifting  sound collage that explores and interrogates race, class, gentrification, violence, love and community, Shook World digs into the core of New York City. Recordings of subway announcements, overheard conversations and confrontations lend a bracing realism and more than once Shook World  has merged with the noise and incident of daily trips on the 1 train. A brilliant, often disorientating and abrasive sound portrait of NYC from some of its most interesting musicians.

Kofi Flexxx – Flowers in the Dark (Native Rebel)

Native Rebel founder Shabaka Hutchings has been in the vanguard of the English jazz scene with his bands Sons of Kemet, Shabaka & The Ancestors and The Comet Is Coming and as a cross-genre collaborator with artists on three continents. Posited as a “creative principle” rather than a band, Kofi Flexxx, Hutchings acts as guide and producer. Flowers in the Dark is anchored by pianist Alex Hawkins, flautist Ross Harris and a dynamite rhythm section of bassist Daisy George and drummer Jas Kayser. Backing guest vocalists including rappers billy woods and ELUCID, singers Siyabonga Mthembu from South Africa and Tamil born Ganavye and poet Anthony Joseph on album highlight “By Now (Accused of Magic)”, the quartet provide a fulcrum that draws together the strands of black music into sinuous unity. The instrumental tracks  are equally good. “It Was All a Dream” has the rhythmic power of Sons Of Kemet with Hawkins’ percussive piano and George’s bass bounding along ahead of a wall of horns and Harris flying above them while managing to find a gritty rasp the bottom end of the flute. “Fire” is a bluesy spiritual jazz with George and Harris both prominent. An album that exemplifies Hutchings’ holistic approach to music.

Seablite – Lemon Lights (Mt St Mtn)

San Francisco band Seablite’s second album Lemon Lights delves deeper into their love for 1990s English sounds. The quartet of vocalist/guitarist Lauren Matsui, vocalist/bassist Galine Tumasyan (bass), guitarist Jen Mundy and drummer Andy Pastalaniec channel the lush end of 1990s British indie. Ride guitarist Mark Gardener mastered Lemon Lights and the result is an album of shoegaze adjacent songs which incorporate the jangling sound of Seablite’s Bay Area contemporaries. It’s a deeply satisfying combination elevated by vocal harmonies, serpentine bass lines and Pastalaniec’s driving percussion. Lead single “Melancholy Molly” has the rollicking rhythm of Ride’s “Leave Them All Behind” overlaid with Matsui and Tumasyan’s lush harmonies and the twin guitars sparking from the mix. The sound is dense but melodic, allowing the guitars to chime and shimmer than rather fuzz and the  melancholic edge to tracks like “Pot of Boiling Water” and the dreamy closer “Orbiting My Sleep” make Lemon Lights resonate.

Sinaïve – Répétition (Antimatière)

When Sinaïve released Répétition in April, I had a cursory listen, filed it away and promptly forgot about it for several weeks. My mistake. On second listen, their combination of Gallic cool, psychedelic pyrotechnics, VU drone and the distant echoes of Ye-Ye and the French underground was irresistible. The Strasbourg trio - Calvin Keller on vocals/guitar/keys, Alicia Lovich drums /vocals/organ and bassist Alaoui O - make a wholly satisfying racket. On the 11 plus minutes of “Citadelle/Bis Repetita”, Sinaïve ride Lovich’s robotic rockabilly beat and Alaoui’s throbbing bass though a suite that sounds among other things like “Ghost Rider”, “Sister Ray” and Love at their wiggiest before Keller’s freight train riffs entangle themselves as if on a lock groove. It’s a terrific piece of sonic détournement. “Les Diaboliques” finds Keller crooning over a squalling guitar and molasses bass line before guest singer Raphaëlle Albane enters, an earthbound angel amidst the feedback. Albane appears again on “Cela ne Fait que Commencer” to close the album duetting with Keller over a quiet pulsing beat, organ and strummed guitar.

99Letters – Makafushigi (Disciples)

Osaka producer Takahiro Kinoshita’s Makafushigi (Mystery Tape)is built on samples of the instruments and vocal styles used in Japanese Imperial Court music. As 99Letters, Kinoshita fuses these ancient sounds with modern electronic music in ways that are as malevolent as the demons of mythology and as sinister as the organized crime and ultranationalism in contemporary Japan. The tracks on Makafushigi are washed in a seamy mix of grit and clamor, a grim, grimy world of back alleys, dingy bars and low-tech manufacturing. On discovering this I went on to a deep dive into 99Letters’ back catalogue and emerged when Kinoshita put out his most recent album Zigoku on Phantom Limb in November. He is the artist I’ve been most thrilled to discover this year.

The Others:

Algiers – Shook (Matador

Armand Hammer – We Buy Diabetic Test Strips (Fat Possum)

jaimie branch – Fly or Die Fly or Die Fly or Die ((world war)) (International Anthem)

John Coltrane with Eric Dolphy – Evenings At the Village Gate (Impulse)

Comet Gain – The Misfit Jukebox (Tapete)

The Drin – Today My Friend You Drunk The Venom (Drunken Sailor)

Euglossine – Bug Planet is the Current Timeline (Hausu Mountain)

Asher Gamedze – Turbulence and Pulse (international Anthem)

Gods Gift – Turn All the Lights Out (Play Loud!)

Laurel Halo – Atlas (Awe)

The Reverend Michael Kristen Hayter – SAVED! (Perpetual Flame Ministries)

Irreversible Entanglements – Protect Your Light (Impulse)

Life Strike – Peak Dystopia (Bobo Integral)

Kevin Richard Martin – Black (Intercranial)

OXBOW – Love’s Holiday (Ipecac)

Purelink – Signs (Peak Oil)

Quicksails – Surface (Hausu Mountain)

Rainy Miller x Space Africa – A Grissaille Wedding (Fixed Abode)

Speaker Music – Techxodus (Planet Mu)

Strategy – Graffiti in Space (Constellation Tatsu)

The Tubs – Dead Meat (Trouble In Mind)

billy woods & Kenny Segal – Maps (Backwoodz Studioz)

99Letters – Zigoku (Phantom Limb)

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DJ Haram - Bushnell Meditation

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bir müzik isterim fazlası haram

niye sürekli benden müzik istiyorsunuz arkadaşlar dj miyim ben aç spotifyi

[maquina-semiotica]

DJ Haram, "Interlude" #NowPlaying

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700 Bliss from Brooklyn NY is a duo made up of DJ Haram and Moor Mother. Rewriting the rules of hip hop and electronic music with forward thinking. The Radioland Stage Day 5 SS