#od one of my favorite characters of all time is like 90% certainly dead

[01tsubomi]

1) bmc is playing in japan

look at this. what? why did this happen and how did i not know about it until today??? 

2) coincidentally i just received an email confirmation that my purchase of a ticket to be more chill japan was successful 

[recordsandrambling]

2018: A Year in Musical Review

As another year comes to a close, so does another year of great music. My five favorites from the year were chosen because of how much they spoke to me on a personal level, as well as my distinction of each as artistically worthy of merit compared to the rest of 2018′s releases. As such, there is definitely a more opinionated focus this year rather than in previous years where I tried to single out more broadly important records. 

Without further ado, I present what I believe to be the five best albums of 2018. 

5. Breaking English - Rafiq Bhatia

Rafiq Bhatia is a guitarist and composer best known for his work in the electronica group Son Lux. He steps away from the electronica approach to put forth an experimental album that’s hard to pin down to one genre. 

Though very much a guitar-driven album, the 30-year-old songwriter fills the rest of the air on his debut full-length for Anti-Records with glitchy soundscapes of jazzy drums, squelching electronics, and soaring Middle Eastern-inspired string sections. Bhatia is able to conjure up such an emotional power in these songs that it would be almost overkill to include vocals--in fact, the one instance of singing on the whole record is on the title track, and it takes a backseat to the lead guitar lick that fronts the arrangement. Breaking English proves that a songwriter doesn’t need to rely on lyrics to convey strong feelings if they find their voice in their instrument. 

Key Tracks: Hoods Up, Breaking English, Perihelion I - I Tried to Scream

4. Mark Kozelek - Mark Kozelek

Mark Kozelek’s self-titled record proves the exact opposite point Breaking English does--great songs don’t need intricate arrangements to leave lasting impressions. Kozelek is in the third iteration of his long career, first as guitarist/singer of slowcore giants Red House Painters, then as sad crooning folk singer with Sun Kil Moon, and now as a rambling storyteller across multiple albums either solo, with a collaborator, or still as Sun Kil Moon. This particular release finds a melancholy-as-ever Mark recording guitar loops in hotels across his travels in the US and playing them out for upwards of 12 minutes as he sing-talks stories from his youth, gripes with the modern world, and funny everyday interactions with other people. It’s a daunting project, reaching 90 minutes in length over just 11 songs, but its dreamy and beautiful soundscapes hide nuggets of relatable realism across its dozens of sheets of lyrics that an intensive listener will dig up and savor.

I came to appreciate just how funny much of this album truly is after seeing Mark live in Philadelphia earlier this year. He manages to supply moments of absurd silliness like the chanting of “diarrhea” in the background of highlight The Mark Kozelek Museum along with humurous observations such as the back-and-forth between him and a barista who doesn’t recognize Mark despite Sun Kil Moon playing in the background of the coffeeshop on Weed Whacker. Kozelek himself even laughs on record after the umpteenth rhyme of “overanalyzing” on My Love For You Is Undying. 

Give this one a listen, even if just for the experience. 

Key Tracks: The Mark Kozelek Museum, Weed Whacker, My Love For You Is Undying

3. God’s Favorite Customer - Father John Misty

Singer-songwriter Josh Tillman returns for his second album is as many years, abandoning the grandiose critiques on modern society of 2017′s Pure Comedy in favor of much more personal tunes that were born out of a six-week stint of alcoholism and depression spent in a New York hotel. 

God’s Favorite Customer is a deeply reflective folk-rock album, touching on drunken conversations with hotel attendants on Mr. Tillman, dealing with outside criticism during times of serious personal turmoil on Hangout at the Gallows, and even reciting terrified pleas from his wife to quit his destructive behavior on Please Don’t Die. As usual, Tillman’s sharp, witty lyricism soften the emotional blows a bit, while his soulful voice and knack for melody make his pain extremely catchy. 

However, this is the most direct and vulnerable Tillman has ever appeared on an album, allowing two tracks to strip away the larger-than-life instrumentation to showcase simplistic voice-and-piano balladry on The Palace and The Songwriter. This newfound versatility shows that the enigmatic character of Father John Misty has many more tricks up his sleeve to grace future releases. 

Key Tracks: Mr. Tillman, Hangout at the Gallows, Please Don’t Die

2. Year of the Snitch - Death Grips

Just when I thought the genre-bending experimental trio couldn’t push their sound any further, Death Grips found a way to combine the bravado and flair of hip-hop with fist-pumping dance rhythms and the raw strength of heavy rock, all the while somehow still managing to have it sound cohesive. Year of the Snitch plays out like a rave held at a warped circus thanks to the outlandish production of Andy Morin and the sputtering drumming of Zach Hill. Vocalist Ride acts as the ringmaster to centralize the shitshow, shouting oblique references to demons and satanic urges at the top of his lungs into your horrified and confused face. 

Thematically, this record is deeply connected to two entities: Charles Manson and the Rolling Stones. Death Grips utilized Manson quotes and references on previous albums directly, whereas Year of the Snitch keeps the influence one person removed. The “snitch” in the album’s title is Linda Kasbian, the key witness who testified against Manson. She is referred to multiple times in the album. On the song Hahaha, Ride roars “69′s and the bitches shout,” referring to her age and the act of testifying. Another is the more pointed song title Linda’s In Custody. 

The Rolling Stones’ reference are also more overt. The album’s cover is an homage to the classic Stones logo and the song Black Paint is a clear attempt to update the rock classic Paint It Black. 

These ideas meld into the central theme of this album: fear. Death Grips has always played with darkness and death, but it is on Year of the Snitch where they face it head on. Ride paints portraits of his dead body getting feasted on by insects on Flies, chants “I’m always thinking finally” on the aforementioned Black Paint, and even titles the jazzy, spastic ode to suicide The Fear after his inner monologue while on the verge of jumping to his demise. 

More curiously, the mentioning of satanism, murder, suicide, darkness and fear parallels how blatantly self-referential this record is. The lead track is titled Death Grips is Online. Andrew Adamson, the director of Shrek, makes an appearance on a spoken word intro to Dilemma about how the trio has quite literally run into a dilemma in the middle of recording. Finally, they tack one more song onto the record after the supposed Outro, and name it Disappointed in preparation for the assumed critical response to the record. 

This dichotomy between fear and self-reference leads me to conclude that Death Grips recognize that their art will be better appreciated after their mortal existence. While they are certainly an experimental force in modern music, they aren’t viewed under the same era-defining lens that other critically-lauded artists are. Instead, the men of Death Grips are content to remain ever mysterious in the shadows of popular music, putting out album after album of mind-bending masterpiece until the music world realizes too late that the artist of their generation was hiding in the snarky corners of the dark web the whole time. 

Key Tracks: Black Paint, The Fear, Dilemma

1. Some Rap Songs - Earl Sweatshirt

Music critics lauded Earl Sweatshirt as a rap savant of sorts back in the early 2010s when he was just a teen, before his abrupt disappearance from Odd Future’s output spawned proclamations of “Free Earl” that could be heard from every corner of the internet. Upon returning to the spotlight in 2012 on OF posse-cut-turned-swan-song Oldie, it was apparent that the young lyrical phenom was no longer fitting in with the quirky, obnoxious LA group anymore. His debut album Doris tried to keep up appearances, but the introspection that always laid the foundation for his passages eventually came completely out on 2015′s appropriately named I Don’t Like Shit I Don’t Go Outside. Turned out that young shock rapper Earl was sent to a school for at-risk youth during his absence half a decade earlier, and it altered his perspective on the world around him. 

In 2018, three years after the world’s first introduction to his darker side, Earl gives us Some Rap Songs, a 25-minute fifteen track masterstroke of lo-fi hip-hop. Less angry and outspoken this time around, Earl instead finds himself professing morose reflections about the death of his father, the stresses of the spotlight, getting high to unsuccessfully fight depression, and how money has changed him and his friends. He gets some help from underground New York City rappers and producers to create a gritty soundscape not unlike the city they hail from.

It never feels like Earl is rapping above the music. He’s rapping with the music, forgoing big room reverb and instead burying his introspective lyrics beneath crackling soul samples in hopes of letting the production take the reins. Thanks to the short song lengths and seamless transitions, the album flows more like one whole piece rather than fifteen individual tracks. The popping vinyl records that make up the samples make the beats feel alive, a welcome contrast to the synthetic trap that underlines pop culture today. It’s this organic sound that reveals that Earl isn’t professing his grief at you. He’s sharing it with you, hoping to relate his experience to any listener going through similar troubles.

“Peace to every crease on your brain,” he spits on Veins. “Bend we don’t break, we not the bank,” he hopes out loud on The Bends. These aren’t just lyrics, they’re mantras he’s hoping will replace any leftover Free Earl’s that thrust him into the unforgiving limelight. 

The album hits its emotional peak over the final three tracks. Playing Possum overlays a powerful recording of his recently deceased father Keorapetse Kgositsile reciting his poem Anguish Longer Than Sorrow alongside a keynote speech performed by his mother, UCLA law professor Cheryl Harris. It’s a touching nod to where he came from, and upon discovering the root of his existence, it makes sense that he’s blossomed into the influential artist he is today. 

But then the sweet sentiment fades into the abrasive Peanut. Its claustrophobic beat projects the image of Earl stuck in an air conditioning unit, anxiously describing burying a father that felt like a stranger to him until only recently. At the end of its 74-second run time, he directly references the final cut with the last line on the album: “my Uncle Hugh.” It is within the upbeat jazz instrumental performed by his late father’s friend Hugh Masekela titled Riot! where I realize that even though Earl can’t get out of this pit of despair, he’s attempting to find hope within the one thing he finds solace in: music. 

Key Tracks: Veins, The Bends, Playing Possum

Thanks for reading, and Happy New Year!

--CHRIS

PS: Be the Cowboy is overrated as heck.

Honorable Mentions (in no particular order):

Veteran - Jpegmafia

POST- - Jeff Rosenstock

boygenius (EP) - boygenius

What Happens When I Try to Relax - Open Mike Eagle

Time ‘n’ Place - Kero Kero Bonito

iridescence - Brockhampton

ye - Kanye West

DAYTONA - Pusha T

Wide Awake! - Parquet Courts

Twin Fantasy - Car Seat Headrest