#and a second chorus (this time about the wikipedia page for people who died from laughing too hard)

[magentagalaxies]

oh this song i'm writing absolutely outs me as someone whose music writing was influenced by will wood jfc

[not-saying-revolution-but]

on the artistry of Loïc Nottet's "Mr/Mme"

We open to a cobbled, deserted Brussels intersection. The title appears in old-timey yellow against the grayscale. A white-clad Loïc Nottet enters as a piano teases the opening, and it starts.

I have a lot of emotions about "Mr/Mme," the last track on Nottet's second studio album (Sillygomania) and, to my knowledge, his first song fully en français. "Mr/Mme" dropped in April of 2020, which was still near the start of the pandemic in Europe and North America. I, for one, did not anticipate what the next year would hold. And yet when this song appeared in Spotify’s suggestions (as the algorithm knows my weakness for Nottet's vocal range and off-pop sound), it touched a nerve that has pulsed for the last 12 months.

To be clear, I'm not going to present any new revelations about this song. Nottet is indisputably a phenomenal artist, "Mr/Mme" is a perfect example of his skill, and that's that on that. I'm more interested in the raw emotions that this song explores and how the piece indicates a radical departure from Nottet's previous body of work. Or does it?

Born in 1996, Loïc Nottet is a Belgian singer/songwriter/dancer who made a name for himself on The Voice Belgique and ESC 2015. You can look up his Wikipedia page if you like. His first album, "Selfocracy," is entirely in English and handles themes of bullying, selfishness, the corruptibility of society, and related. I don't know what the Belgian and French reviewers said, but the album was fairly well received in the English-speaking places I inhabit. The songs are punchy and get stuck in your head. The lyrics feel clever but maybe a little strained. A Youtube star dropping his first studio album.

And then "Mr/Mme" came out. Nottet greets his audience with a "bonsoir Monsieur, Madame / aujourd'hui, j'te dis tout" (good evening sir, madame / today, I'll tell you everything). He proceeds to do just that. Nottet describes a living hell, a world that "m'étrangle, m'écrase et me brûle" (strangles me, crushes me, and burns me). The ensuing musical monologue swivels from individual anguish to a broader critique of humanity, described as nothing but a bully without love. Those who cannot afford morphine are refused the moon. Children turn into monsters and the rest of us pay rent.

About halfway through the song (which lacks a chorus), Nottet tells the listener how alone he feels while walking the glorious road to fame. He copes by drinking, poking fun at his youth, and grappling in the darkness for any sense of meaning (he's in his 20s after all). Despite living out his childhood dreams, Nottet admits to his own unhappiness.

While Nottet sings all of this, alternating between confessional and belting tones, the camera tracks his wanderings through the streets of Brussels. It looks utterly empty until we see another figure walking past. They look over their shoulder as they pass this strange young man who sings, skips, and spreads his arms in the way of music videos. With a bitter twinge of irony, his oversized white dress shirt has "enjoy yourself" written on the breast pocket.

Nottet takes us down the narrow, shuttered, and graffitied alleyways that spread out from La Grand-Place. He carefully avoids the Baroque square, though, taking rapid turns just when you think you're nearing it. The camera follows in its shaky way. The crowds increase as the song swells, now showing other young people in their sparkling little groups. Nottet breaks through, and everything stops as he sings "je n'sais plus qui je suis, j'suis perdu" (I no longer know who I am, I am lost).

And finally, finally. We reach La Grand-Place, and the lyrics shift. Nottet tells us how he feels when he’s on stage, which is far from the horrific picture he just described:

Car j'écris quand j'me plante

Et je ris quand je danse

Et je vis quand je chante

Et pour tout ça, j'te dis :

Merci

(Because I write when I mess up, and I laugh when I dance, and I live when I sing. And for all of that, I say to you: Thank you.)

Nottet’s figure paints a bright absence on the darkened Grand-Place. The song is officially over but Nottet launches into a series of ethereal "oohs" that transcend this mortal realm. He now shows off his dancing and spreads himself open as the "oohs" reach their highest pitch. Nottet looks like a broken bird, splayed open in La Grand-Place and suspended by his rib cage. The video ends with a few more leg kicks and spins before Nottet wanders out of frame. Everything was done in one take.

So what makes this song and music video so special? Is it not another artsy, indie production about a young singer struggling with fame?

I say to that nay. In "Mr/Mme," Nottet uses his extraordinary voice to access an emotion that is often trivialized. “A young man makes it big and then feels lonely, so what,” we could say. “Life is hard.” This is both true and not. Nottet's struggles are different from most of ours, but he speaks in terms that feel familiar. How many of us realize too late that success isn’t all it’s cracked up to be? "Mr/Mme" holds extremes that more often coexist than contradict in real life, including "humanity is fucked and we should burn everything to the ground" and "there are moments when life is worth living." I know of few other songs that capture both emotions in such a poignant way.

Moreover, the video is carefully done. Directed by Hugo Jouxtel, it seems almost self-conscious about its artsy look. The passersby may be hired extras, I don't know, but they react organically. It's almost embarrassing to see them hastily cross the street and give the singer funny looks. There’s a bit of self-recognition through the other, if you will, particularly if you’ve ever had a breakdown in public (hands, anyone? just me?). It is one thing to sing about feeling alone and quite another to be alone amid the crowds of La Grand-Place. La Grand-Place, a tourist attraction with very few things to do. A place that is good for milling about, snapping a picture, and then hurrying on with your life, oblivious.

Besides the video being aesthetically pleasing, it feels real. Nottet cannot step beyond the gated storefronts as he laments. Sometimes the camera captures an unflattering angle as he tilts up his chin in anguish. It's pretty but gritty. Like the song. Like fame. Like life.

The view from my chair is this: "Mr/Mme" signals a new moment of maturity for an artist who (I am convinced) will one day be known worldwide. It acknowledges the darker threads present in "Selfocracy" (the darkness inside us, the ever-watching “million eyes”) but strips it all down to the bare essentials. The song is honest. And for a popular artist like Nottet, who has already proven himself many times over, honesty might be the rarest thing.

*All translations are from yours truly. Any errors are, of course, my own.

[vernonfielding]

Can I get a witness

Story No. 8 of my Season 7 Countdown Project. Thank you to @fezzle for the prompt!!

Summary: “Wow, someone read her Wikipedia page.” “No, Jake, I wrote it.”

Amy begs Jake for details about the Honorable Laverne Holt. Takes place at the end of Your Honor. (Read on AO3.)

Jake’s not sure how he managed to go 35 years without knowing that claustrophobia is a real and terrible thing and not some made up word that other people use when they want to sound dramatic. (Other people who aren’t his amazing girlfriend. Amy hates enclosed spaces, and he always believed that hate is real, but let’s be honest – he kind of thought it was a control-freak thing. Now he knows she was correct to fear imminent asphyxiation.)

But this is the second time in a week that he’s been stuck in a tiny room with walls that are definitely closing in like something straight out of freakin’ Indiana Jones and an air vent that is absolutely sealed shut because it’s obvious he’s not getting enough oxygen and that’s why he’s gasping and his head is spinning and there are weird sparks dancing at the corner of his vision.

Holt and Laverne are still talking and maybe they’re saying something to him now, he’s not really sure (his eyes are still squeezed shut to avoid listening to them – it made sense at the time). Jake is just about to ask Holt to break out a slide rule and calculate how much air is left in the interrogation room – because there are three people in here now, damnit, and surely that’s at least two too many – when the door suddenly shoves open and Jake opens his eyes and there’s Amy, hesitating at the threshold, eyes gone wide as she takes in the occupants.

“Oh! Sorry, I thought this was empty, I’ll just-” And she goes to close the door again.

Their chorus of “No!” ricochets off the walls. Jake literally dives for the door and pulls it wide open. He’s panting, which is making it difficult to take in deep breaths of the sweet, sweet bullpen air outside this tiny asphyxia chamber.

“Um,” Amy says, and neatly sidesteps so Jake can escape. He stops just outside the room and closes his eyes and spreads his arms wide, chest expanding to make more space for his lungs to fill with oxygen.

“Thank you, Detective,” Holt says. Jake glances over in time to see Amy making a face like a (very cute) fish, mouth opening and closing wordlessly as Holt escorts his mother out of the interrogation room.

“Sir,” Jake says, because he loves Amy so much, “I don’t think Detective Santiago has met your mother.”

Holt scowls at him – he’s been remarkably, and scarily, emotive since Laverne showed up at the precinct – but it’s a brief thing and then he’s smoothly turning back to Amy, even as Laverne steps past her son and reaches out a hand.

“Laverne Holt,” she says.

“Oh, I know,” Amy says.

Jake swears her whole body is vibrating, like she’s barely holding her very molecules together right now. For a second he’s afraid she’s going to admit to stanning Laverne online but then Amy seems to get some small hold on herself and she throws her shoulders back as she pumps Laverne’s hand.

“I mean, I’m aware of your incredible career, your honor,” Amy says. “You’re an inspiration.”

“Thank you, that is very kind of you to say,” Laverne says. Jake notices that she doesn’t tell Amy to call her by her first name. He’s pleased and disappointed (though much more the former – look, they’re super competitive, it’s their thing).

“Thank you for saying that was a kind thing to say,” Amy says.

That’s when Jake intervenes, taking his beautiful, insane, super intense girlfriend by the arm and pulling her away.

“And thank all of us for fresh air, wide open spaces and Goldfish crackers,” Jake says. “Come on, I’m starving.”

+++

In the breakroom, Amy grabs the Goldfish bag out of Jake’s hand and establishes ground rules: one cracker for every detail about Holt and Holt’s mother.

“Does the detail have to be about both of them?” Jake says.

Amy glances up, thinks it over. “No. Either is acceptable. But it must be something you learned because you were hanging out with them. God, I can’t believe you got to hang out with Judge Holt. What does she smell like?”

“Old library books, Pledge, and a little bit like Christmas trees,” Jake says.

Amy hands him a cracker. “Pledge, like the wood cleaner?”

Jake nods and says, “For her gavel, I guess?”

“What does she call Holt?”

“Raymond,” Jake says, and grabs another cracker.

“Did you see any baby photos? Class pictures? Prom photos? Oh my god, were there any photos of him in a speedo?”

Jake stares. “That is a very weird thing to ask, and no. No speedo.”

“He was on the diving team!” Amy says.

“He was?”

“He told us about it during the morning briefing like two weeks ago, Jake.”

“I do not remember that,” Jake says.

“So, no photos?”

“Oh, there were photos,” Jake says. Amy leans over the table toward him, one hand buried in the Goldfish bag. “Tiny Holt. Tiny bowtie. Tiny slide rule.”

“Oh my god,” Amy says. She absently drops five crackers in front of him.

“And there was macaroni art,” Jake says. “An infographic about education spending in the Johnson era.”

He’s never been more grateful for his amazing ability to recall information that he doesn’t understand or care about than right now, when Amy bends half over the table and places both hands on his face and kisses him hard, lips smacking against his.

“Tiny Holt made macaroni PowerPoint,” Amy says, still so close he can feel her breath on his chin. “I love him.”

“It’s weird when you say that while your hands are on my cheeks,” Jake says.

“Oh, sorry,” Amy says, and backs away. Her own cheeks are flushed.

“It’s cool, just thought I should note it’s also weird,” Jake says, cheerily.

Amy rolls her eyes a little and then passes the entire Goldfish bag across the table. She rests her chin in one hand and says, “Tell me more.”

So Jake tells her everything: He describes the art on the walls of the living room and the “regular” room that was filled entirely with books. He admits he never got to see Holt’s childhood bedroom, but he got Holt to say “kowabunga, Mother,” which is almost better, they both agree.

He tells Amy about Holt’s disagreement with his mother over George Kenderson (“Henderson?” Amy says. “Kenderson,” Jake says. They both make faces.) and about their promises to be 5 percent more physically affectionate. Jake tells her that Laverne was sad after her husband died, and that she didn’t want Holt to know so she never talked about it, and he really appreciates it when Amy takes his hand and squeezes his fingers.

He tells her that Holt and his mom hugged in the end, even though he doesn’t know that for sure and they said they didn’t.

“But it felt like a hugging moment,” he says.

+++

Later that day, Jake texts Laverne and invites her to brunch. She says yes and requests that he bring Detective Santiago. Amy says it’s the best thing that’s happened to her all year, and Jake’s not even mad about it.

End Notes:

Title is from Oakland Nights (Bash Brothers).

I feel like so many missing scene fics could/should be written about Amy and Jake recapping after the events of an episode. Hm. Maybe that’s another project someday.

[emotionallaborunion]

Self-betrayal in “Prowl Great Cain”

"This is a song about a guy who betrayed a guy, and he feels bad about it because they didn't kill the guy that he betrayed. If he had killed the guy, he probably would be able to just not think about it so much. Like, if it was movies, then maybe he would be haunted by it and wake up in the middle of the night. But realistically speaking, out of sight, out of mind, it would have been better if the guy had died in prison under the horrible torture that he handed him over to.... It takes place in Cambodia after it is no longer Democratic Kampuchea." -- John Darnielle, 2011-04-06 - Mercy Lounge - Nashville, TN

"Autogenocide is 'the mass killing by a government or regime of a section of its own people'. The term was coined in the latter half of the 1970s to describe the actions of the Khmer Rouge government of Cambodia, to distinguish such acts from the genocide of groups considered 'other' by a government, such as the killing of Jews and people of Slavic origin by Nazi Germany." -- Wikipedia article, "Cambodian genocide"

"We push shame away as fast as we can, covering it with more tolerable states of being." -- Patricia DeYoung, Understanding and Treating Chronic Shame

"Prowl Great Cain" by the Mountain Goats sets the Old Testament story of Cain and Abel in the context of Cambodia in 1979. The second line in the chorus, "Prowl through empty fields, great Cain" ties together the story of Cain, the farmer who was condemned by God to wander the Earth, never to be able to grow crops again, with the Khmer Rouge Killing Fields. The first line, more cryptically, declares "I feel guilty, but I can't feel ashamed."

Who's the "I" in the song? I think it's Cain himself, or the character meant to be the 1979 Cambodian stand-in for him. The Cain character in the song is the person who betrayed their brother, or someone else close to him: "Wonder if you'll ever get the chance to ask me why I turned you in." So Cain addresses himself in the chorus, "Prowl through empty fields, great Cain". (The alternative is that that's the voice of God telling Cain to "prowl through empty fields", but it's not God who feels guilt or shame, and I don't think the chorus would switch perspectives in the middle.) I'll call the narrator in this song "Cain", since we don't have another name for him.

Cain doesn't need to prove to himself that he has no reason to be ashamed, which is what "I feel guilty, but I can't feel ashamed" would probably mean if he was saying it to anybody else. In the privacy of his own head, he's merely observing his own experience: he can't feel ashamed. But if he feels guilty, he must know he's done something wrong. It's easier to live with guilt than shame, but to be unable to feel shame is to be missing a section from the range of emotions it's possible a person to experience. In its own way, that's a hard way to live.

An editor of the "Prowl Great Cain" page on the Mountain Goats wiki wrote, by way of explaining the song's title and chorus, "God cursed Cain so he could grow no crops, leaving him to wander. God also marked him so that if anyone were to harm him, that person would be paid back sevenfold, ensuring that he would live the rest of his natural life in a cursed exile."

I like the interpretation here of God's marking of Cain as a condemnation of Cain into loneliness and isolation. If people think they will be punished severely for hurting you, they're not likely to get to know you at all; they're more likely to avoid you, since hurting someone you're in a close relationship with is inevitable. Cain's mark only protects him from bodily harm -- not from enforced solitude and its accompanying emotional harm.

"I saved my own skin, but I live to fight, I live to fight another day." The price Cain paid for "saving his own skin" is not shame (which he isn't feeling), nor is it guilt (he just justified his action by reference to his need to survive), but rather, isolation.

Especially since the song suggests the person Cain betrayed is still alive, in a sense, he really betrayed himself. The other person survived, but Cain is left to live with the guilt of having chosen to turn his friend in for certain torture and probably death, a guilt that is independent of the betrayed person's actual fate. Even if you haven't lived during a genocide, you may have had the experience of having to make hard choices in order to survive. And those choices, too, often involve sacrificing pieces of ourselves.

"The soldiers who carried out the executions were mostly young men or women from peasant families." -- Wikipedia article, "Khmer Rouge Killing Fields"

About 25% of the people of Cambodia were murdered under Pol Pot's regime during the 1970s. There were, presumably, many people who had to make the choice that the narrator of "Prowl Great Cain" made: to betray their own friends or relatives in order to save their own lives. Choosing between death and intolerable guilt is not an enviable choice to be faced with. Since this is a Mountain Goats song, it takes the perspective of the person who chose to survive, suspending moral judgment.

How does it feel to be both the betrayer and the betrayed, to be complicit with genocide -- something that violates every moral value you have -- in order to save yourself and to, perhaps, be of service to someone else once you're in a place of safety?

"Since You are banishing me today from the soil, and I must hide myself from Your presence and become a restless wanderer on the earth, whoever finds me will kill me." -- Genesis 4:14 (Holman Christian Standard Bible)

In Genesis 4, Cain hid himself from God's presence; in "Prowl Great Cain", the narrator hides ("Rummage through the gutted storehouse now / And lick the sweat from my brow") from further violence, and survives to see "the trucks roll out this morning", maybe referring to the retreat of the Khmer Rouge army following the Vietnamese invasion of Phnom Penh in 1979. Whether they fear God's judgment, or the violence of the Khmer Rouge, neither character reveals any internal judgment. But wouldn't you feel ashamed if you killed your own brother?

"The ground is cursed because of you. You will eat from it by means of painful labor all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. You will eat bread by the sweat of your brow until you return to the ground, since you were taken from it. For you are dust, and you will return to dust." -- Genesis 3:17-19 (Holman Christian Standard Bible)

I don't know if "lick the sweat from my brow" references this passage as well, but it seems fitting; like his father before him, Cain has to eat by the sweat of his own brow ("lick the sweat from my brow" is, I'm assuming, an imperative addressed to himself), but he must bear the additional hardship of not being able to cultivate the earth, instead having to scavenge for food.

All of this evades the question of who, exactly, the Cain in "Prowl Great Cain" betrayed. The quote from JD says "what is the Cain figure I want who has betrayed his brother?" But that's outside the text, and within the text, the only thing suggesting at the relationship between the "I" and the "you" in the song is the use of the name "Cain". The song doesn't tell us much about the identity of the "you"; we have to guess. The story ends with: "Sometimes a great wave of forgetfulness rises up and blesses me / And other times the sickness howls and I despair of any remedy." If Cain is haunted by the memory of the person he betrayed, wouldn't the "And other times..." line mention that person? It's not a "sickness" to miss someone who is gone, whether or not you did them harm. Guilt as a result of doing something you know to be wrong is a normal emotional reaction, not a "sickness". That's what makes me look further.

To side with someone, a person or an institution, who means you harm is to betray a part of yourself. In the extreme, that can mean destroying -- or at least disowning or dissociating from -- part of yourself. This is something that people tend to do when they're in a situation of captivity and ongoing violence: if you can escape from violence, you do that. When you can't escape from an abuser or captor, siding with them is a way to survive: when you're at somebody's mercy, resistance is not necessarily the way to preserve your life. But coming out of it alive doesn't mean coming out of it whole.

Reading the song literally, Cain turns in his brother to save his own life. We don't know whether he sends him in to be jailed or executed: from history, we can guess the latter. "I wonder if you'll ever get the chance to ask me why I turned you in" suggests Cain thinks his brother might still be alive; on the other hand, the second verse's "Thought I'd seen a ghost up on the boulevard, between the broken bits" suggests death (who would the ghost be if not "you")? But perhaps the ghost is wishful thinking: "It's hard to tell gifts of the spirit from clever counterfeits."

Reading more figuratively: If you experience shame you can't escape from, putting the shamed part of yourself in jail (cutting yourself off from it) saves you from feeling shame, while perhaps leaving you with guilt about killing off a part of yourself.

Moreover, if your attempt at killing part of yourself fails, you've damaged yourself and still have to live with a part of yourself that feels shame, disowned or dissociated as it might be: to force a part of yourself to live "in a cursed exile", unable to connect with other people or even the conscious part of your own mind, is worse than if you'd done nothing. "I can't feel ashamed" doesn't mean there's no shame, only that it's not being consciously felt. You can feel guilty about what you've done to yourself to survive, but you protect yourself from the less tolerable emotion, shame -- or so you think.

When the "great wave of forgetfulness" comes, Cain can ignore or silence the shamed part of himself that lives on in exile -- but that forgetfulness only visits him "sometimes". The "sickness" that howls at other times is the wounded but still living version of himself that continues to carry the shame he can't feel; that's why he recognizes its calls as only a "sickness", because he expects it not to be there at all. He thinks he sees the ghost up on the boulevard because it would ease his mind to have some proof that his shamed self is gone for good. He knows he didn't really see the ghost, because he knows it's still alive and howling. He knows this because, at least "now and then", he feels "the prickings of his conscience", which is to say, the imperative to connect with the exiled part of himself. It's not likely to stop, so while at the end of the song, he's free from the violence that precipitated this self-destructive act, he's not free from the burden of guilt over who he has become in order to survive that violence.

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 13th January 2019

Don’t expect these to come out on a specific day in the week, just expect them to come, alright? For what I suppose is the second season, I’m not pressuring myself to get them out always on a Wednesday or a Sunday, just any day possible, okay? I introduced this concept today because, yes, this is kind of late and yes, this week is tiring and for all I care, doesn’t exist. Let’s go.

Top 10

“Sweet but Psycho” by Ava Max is still at the top spot for what I think is either its third or fourth week at the top. It might even be fifth, I don’t know. Okay song, I’m surprised it’s gotten this big though.

Ariana Grande also isn’t moving since last week at the runner-up spot with “thank u, next”.

Up a spot from last week, however, is “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart” by Mark Ronson and Miley Cyrus.

Speaking of great songs succeeding, also up a single spot is “Wow.” by Post Malone, now at number-four, right next to his other song, in fact.

Yup, the current US Hot 100 #1 (and one of the best in God knows how long) is down two spots to number-five in the UK, and it’s “Sunflower” by Post Malone and Swae Lee, from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.

Remember when Dave and Fredo debuted at #1, and it was just a really perplexing moment for me? Well, the dude’s done it again, as his new track with Headie One (who doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page, mind you), “18HUNNA”, has debuted at number-six. I’m assuming this is Headie One’s first anything, but I know this is Dave’s fifth top 40 hit and second top 10 hit over here, and to be fair, I’m actually starting to really like Dave, so I hope this is good, and I’m happy for the guy.

Oh, and in stark contrast, the absolutely dreadful James Arthur, with Anne-Marie on their cover of “Rewrite the Stars”, up a spot to number-seven.

A six-space gain for George Ezra at number-eight as “Hold My Girl” becomes his fifth top 10 hit.

Speaking of ballads that have grown on me, “Lost Without You” by Freya Ridings is also up three positions to number-nine.

Finally, “Without Me” by Halsey is up a space to #10. Cool, I guess.

Climbers

“Play” by Jax Jones and Years & Years is up eight spots off the debut to #11, “One Kiss” by Calvin Harris and Dua Lipa has end-of-year boosts to thank for its delayed 15-spot gain to #22, and that’s it. We might as well try and get the Returning Entries out of the way right now as well. I’m planning to experiment more with structure so see stuff like this being out of order coming.

Returning Entries

Again, thanks to the year ending and the BRITs nominations being revealed, some of the biggest hits of last year have had increases in streaming and such, meaning “I’ll be There” by Jess Glynne is back at #40 and “2002” by Anne-Marie is back at #37. That’s all.

Fallers

Now we have a few more of these than we do climbers: “Baby Shark” by Pinkfong is down eight spaces to #14 – stay there or go away, I don’t care what you do, but whatever you do, don’t creep up to the top 10 again. Anyways, other than that, we have “Shotgun” by George Ezra down nine spots to #16, “Thursday” by Jess Glynne slowly falling down six spaces to #19, both “This is Me” by Keala Settle and “A Million Dreams” by P!nk from The Greatest Showman taking seven-position hits down to #23 and #24, “Promises” by Calvin Harris and Sam Smith down six spots, “Woman Like Me” by Little Mix featuring Nicki Minaj down 10 spaces and “Let You Love Me” by Rita Ora down six positions to #27, #28 and #29 respectively, “Happier” by Marshmello and Bastille sadly down nine to #35, and finally, “The Greatest Showman” by Hugh Jackman, Keala Settle, Zac Efron, Zendaya and The Greatest Showman Ensemble is down 13 spots to #38.

Dropouts

I’m going to order these from where they are on the charts this week, so, let’s just run through these because there’s a decent amount. “Money” by Cardi B is out from #35, “A Million Dreams” by Ziv Zaifman, Hugh Jackman and Michelle Williams is out from #30, “Body” from Loud Luxury and brando is out from #39, “Funky Friday” by Dave and Fredo is out from #38, “Girls Like You” by Maroon 5 featuring Cardi B is out from #34, and finally, “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran is out from #40.

Special Feature

This year, I’m going to talk about more non-charting songs, so I’ll rip off Spectrum Pulse like I’ve been doing for a full year or so now, and do something like his new Ideal Hit section. Instead of songs that he thinks should be hits, I’m just going to pick a song that I see has been getting a push and want to be a hit because it’s really freaking good. Let’s start with:

SHOUT-OUT #1 – “Voila” – N.E.R.D., Gucci Mane and Wale

“Alright, come on, let’s go”. Those words are somehow so effective in starting this borderline masterpiece off. I don’t even know how to express my absolute love and fascination for this song in words. While N.E.R.D.’s comeback album NO_ONE EVER REALLY DIES was good, it was inconsistent, although this is probably my favourite track from there, excluding perhaps “Don’t Don’t Do It!”, which, yes, is somehow even better than this. Listen, I’m not a massive fan of either Gucci Mane or Wale, in fact, I think Wale kind of sucks, honestly – but put Gucci Mane on an energetic new wave beat and I’ll marry you. His Southern drawl makes his performance on the relatively complex yet catchy hook seem effortless, and then the pitch-shifted Pharrell Williams sounds just great, almost as a stark contrast to Gucci though, as Gucci is lazy yet smooth, while Pharrell is so stiff and that works perfectly, as even when he goes on more interesting vocal runs, he’s robotic. The beat strips itself down to bass and drums for Pharrell’s sole verse in which he tries to motivate the listener, before a robotic pre-chorus, in which he makes himself sound so emotionless, but it’s on purpose because what it’s saying is that self-improvement like Gucci’s after prison isn’t perfect and isn’t magic. It slows down briefly for a smooth Pharrell bridge, but then it comes back to the insane, beautifully cluttered new wave jam, and I’m going to remove all pretence and just say, yeah, it’s a bop. It’s fun, and then Gucci’s last “different” is dragged on and repeated, because, guess what? The song comes back as something different, in this case, a tropical trap beat with steel pans and kicks drowning out Wale’s half-hearted, lazy flow, which works because it’s stream-of-consciousness delivery with such a clearly calculated, simple and concise verse. The whole song can be seen as a motivational jam or some kind of sarcastic parody of those songs, but either way you see it, it’s fantastic. I’ve seen this in Apple ads, I hope this becomes a smash, even though it probably won’t. It happened to “Lemon” with Rihanna so I can hope.

NEW ARRIVALS

We have a lot of hip-hop and R&B today so let’s start with something that is decidedly neither of those things.

#33 – “Grace” – Lewis Capaldi

Lewis Capaldi’s a Scottish dude, and he released this song in September of last year, naturally becoming a smash hit in his home country. In the UK overall however, it’s been a sleeper hit and this is his first song to hit the top 40, so is it any good? Do I have any hope for Capaldi’s future work? I mean, it’s okay, I guess. It starts with subtle, light piano that is so bare that it feels Capaldi’s immediate anger and frustration is unwarranted, especially in the pre-chorus because I feel there isn’t any build-up to anything here. In fact, I’ve heard this before, I vividly remember hating it because of how abrupt everything was, and yup, I get why. This is aggravatingly slap-dash to me, and I know that you kind of have to be in today’s pop climate, but that’s America. This is Scotland, and it sounds like the dude who does the clean vocals for a Scottish post-hardcore band was told to water himself down over “Fight Song”. No, thanks.

#25 – “Options” – NSG featuring Tion Wayne

Okay, so first of all, who? Let’s see what I can gather from Wikipedia and other sources. NSG is the Northampton School for Girls, but they’re a group that is also part of the GRM Daily crowd, as we have at least one of these guys each week, and Tion Wayne I’m assuming is also from that general field of UK hip-hop, although he’s more of a Link Up TV than a GRM Daily, I guess. This is obviously the first top 40 hit for either artist, and I wish more of the reggae/grime stuff we get was like this. I like how it immediately scares you with that sharp, eerie piano line, with a vocal effect on one of these guys’ voice that is really effective considering it muffles him. The verses come in and we have conflicting piano melodies that actually complement each other, with NSG and Tion Wayne both bringing simple flows and fun deliveries. Sure, it’s nothing new, the content is all stuff we’ve seen before, and it’s probably way too long. Some of the NSG dudes are actually pretty decent singers, or at least ride on the beat well enough for me to not notice, like Kruddz, but the longest verse goes to Tion Wayne, and he kills it. I love how layered the track is, with all the strings and the claps coming together in the final chorus with keys that almost sound like trumpets blaring behind everything. It feels really triumphant and is pretty great in that regard. For people into this stuff, I recommend it.

#15 – “Undecided” – Chris Brown

Go away and take your illegal monkey with you, you abusing, detestable waste of time and money. Your song sucks, you can’t even sing anymore, and your production is always cheap and in this case, kind of tinny? You can’t rap, either, so don’t try. We’ve been putting up with you for a whole decade now and I’m sick of it, and I’m sick of you. I am not going to review your song. Fair enough? Fair enough.

#6 – “18HUNNA” – Headie One and Dave

No matter what I say, this song is definitely going to grow on me like most British rap I review on this show does. I do have to say, though, I understand why this one debuted so high, because Dave lazily rehashes his “Funky Friday” flow in his opening verse. This production feels like a cheap, trash type beat downloaded off of YouTube, with its shrill piano, synths and badly-mixed bass. Headie One is pretty awful on here, barely staying on beat and literally cutting himself off mid-line and mid-rhyme scheme to even attempt to keep steady through what is a way too long verse, although I respect the Pot Noodles reference, I guess. Yeah, no, this is gutter trash. I’m disappointed in 1-6 here, because the “Funky Friday” beat is great, although to be fair, that was co-produced by Dave. Get this out of my face.

Conclusion

What an awful week. There’s a reason I wanted to have an extra song that I could talk about positively, because this week was a constant fuel of garbage. Headie One and Dave get Worst of the Week for “18HUNNA”, with Dishonourable Mention going to human trash Chris Brown for “Undecided”. Best of the Week goes to that NSG and Tion Wayne song, I guess? Yeah, that’s a pretty dope song. See you next week, and let’s hope for “Voila”.