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bangtanblurbs · 3 years ago

Text

autumn leaves

song: autumn leaves by BTS

first experience: my first listen of autumn leaves was when HYYH pt. 2 released. thanksgiving had just ended -- it was 2015. i was well into my fourth year of undergraduate studies and going through both a rough patch in some respects but also in others -- hitting my stride. i remember my first listen through of HYYH pt. 2 was in my tiny dorm room, perched on my bed, avoiding the responsibility of studying for my final exams. autumn leaves followed skit in the tracklisting, and before skit came baepsae. talk about whiplash... my emotions were all over the place. immediately i was taken by the unique backbeat and the beautiful blend of devastating vocals with emotional raps. for me, autumn leaves was immediately a favorite of mine from the album -- following closely behind butterfly. i can confidently say today though that the song is one of my top ten bangtan songs of all time. something about the sound, the lyrics, and the emotions i can hear in their voices makes it one of the most powerful rap ballads in the bangtan repertoire. i can remember distinctly i came to this revelation around christmas of 2015 as i continued to loop HYYH pt. 2 and really feel each beat and sound within the individual tracks.

at this time i was going through a period of great change in my life - and autumn leaves is the perfect song for change. it’s a song about losing a love but also about feeling as if you are losing a piece of yourself. there are many ways to interpret the song outside of just being another sad love song -- that is something that struck me. the lyrics speak to several facets of what happens when you give pieces of yourself to others, or when you reach crossroads in your life. finding this song at this particular moment in my life was like finding energy and light at a time of extreme darkness. it was healing. soothing.

feelings: i have too many. as always. autumn leaves is special to me because when i listen to it i’m reminded of both the place i was in when the sound found me, but also more recent development in my life that continue to relate to the song. when i first heard autumn leaves, i’d recently ended a relationship i’d been far too invested in despite knowing it was going to be a dead end - for about three years. i felt like i was at a point in my life where i needed to figure out who the hell i was without the one i’d loved. it’s funny though - i was happy to be free of that relationship, to be free of him, the pressures he’d put upon me. what do dead leaves mean if not a new spring right around the corner? perhaps i was feeling lost, but in my mind it was only temporary -- the dead must fall away to bring forward the spring.

that being said, i did mourn. not in the way you might think, but in the way that one mourns for lost time, lost identity. so often we, as women, give up our identities when we are in relationships. we allow others to define us in terms of those that we are in relationships with. i’ve realized this now that i’m older -- now that i’m more at peace with my bisexuality -- the notion that our patriarchal society defines us in terms of the men within our lives rather than our own talents and identities. this particular blog isn’t a space for my feelings on that topic though -- what i will say is that autumn leaves comforted me. perhaps i felt that i was at a point where my leaves were dying -- but does that mean the tree is dead? absolutely not. spring would come. my life would be reborn with a new focus taking over.

this being said -- i’ve always been one of those people that holds onto the past. i always wanted to be solid, non-changing, someone with convictions that they carried along from life. i think this stems from experiencing the death of a close friend while i was very young. i cherished the memories associated with her to the point where i didn’t want to lose the person i was when i knew her. so that’s always complicated change for me -- made the moments where the last leaves fell from the autumn trees that much harder. sure, spring was on its way, but what did that mean? would i lose the memories and the moments when my leaves where at their brilliance the previous season? or would i still carry those with me? what if i needed to correct course and completely rewrite who i was over the past -- would that mean losing who i was when i was loved by those i valued in the past? of course not -- but for some reason the more emotional sides of me didn’t see things in such a fluid way. lost was more profound when i was younger because it was also accompanied with these fears over the loss of my identity.

as i’ve gotten older i’ve realized that identity can have staying power whilst also being something that is fluid. transmuting something doesn’t mean destroying or overwriting it. it means building upon the base and modifying it so that things are more brilliant. the me that existed before and during my long-term relationship was the same me i’d carry into the future, but with many more improvements for my own wellbeing and ability to express myself. for me, autumn leaves is just that. whilst on the surface it may convey the emotions of a breakup -- it also simply conveys the feelings that we get when we progress from one period of life to another. we leave parts of ourselves behind in order to improve. does that mean we are fundamentally changed? absolutely not. it means that we have learned from the past -- that we have made progress. in the same way that trees grow and change over the years. perhaps they look differently (taller, greener in hue? more branches?) but they still provide us with lushness and shade.

personal connection: perhaps i’ve jumped ahead... i’ve already delved into this in the feelings section. that being said... i hope that my story can bring comfort to someone else. or perhaps help you all think about the ways in which bangtan songs can promote healing in your own lives.

since my initial experience with the song i’ve had many other moments where i’ve turned to autumn leaves for comfort. i didn’t just leave it in the past -- it’s come with me as i’ve gotten older and moved into new spaces in my life. particularly i quite literally moved and started a huge new chapter in my life. and on this, autumn leaves has been a song i frequently find myself searching for. there’s a line in the song that resonates with me -- it’s in the bridge: “i hold on to these faded memories / is this greed? / i try to look back on these lost seasons / i try to turn back”

initially i’d been excited for my big move from atlanta to washington dc. i thought it’d be the moment where i finally showed people back home that i wasn’t a failure, that all the pride i’d held in myself and my intellectual accomplishments was valid... but partnered with that came the intensive homesickness, the feeling of being an alien. i wasn’t really welcome here in dc. i still don’t feel welcome, but that’s a story for another day - another song. the reality is though, i moved just as the seasons turned to fall. it felt like my old life was falling away, i was bidding adieu my old life -- the community that had raised me since i was eighteen -- it was all gone. i was scared, terrified my friends wouldn’t keep in touch, afraid i’d have to change who i was to experience success (mask my accent, dye my hair, use the language of the elites)... while it’s not a breakup in the way the autumn leaves reads, i felt like i was having to plead with myself not to let go of who i was just for the sake of being accepted here, or for the sake of making my day to day life easier. the beat of the song brought me comfort as i walked to school, where i received the fake smiles of professors and classmates... i pleaded with myself -- to never let the parts of me that had gotten me to where i was fall away... to always let those dead leaves be the fertilizer for who i was becoming, for the me that would deliver myself closer to my dreams.

even now -- i listen to autumn leaves and think about what i’m going to carry forward as the seasons change and we begin to work our way into a new normal in this pandemic. what parts of me will remain? what relationships will i keep? what *should* fall away, and what will i beg to keep around rather it’s healthy or not? i’m not sure. but closing my eyes and listening to the steady sound of autumn leaves brings me nothing but comfort.

song breakdown

musically: autumn leaves is one of the most iconic songs from the HYYH era. the beat is iconic, the mix of vocal line and rap line from verse to chorus is completely seamless, it’s almost like a ballad rap (so iconic of the HYYH era, with songs like love is not over). the asian style beats, and synth... the sounds of the song are flawless from start to finish. the underlying beat of the song is so smooth, it feels almost like constant crashing waves, the ebb and flow of the beat with a few accents to highlight the emotional pick-ups of the verses.

now -- it was controversial at the time -- many claim that autumn leaves samples beats from deadroses by blackbear. rather that’s true or not, i don’t know. but i find that listening to both songs back to back, they’re speaking to a lot of similar themes but with their own distinct sound and messages. there’s something about the genius of the back beat mixed with the emotionally charged rapping that sets autumn leaves apart -- also the use of vocal line is completely distinct and adds to the emotion in the sound.

vocally: i don’t have as much to say about the vocals in this song. they’re beautiful, with vocal providing honey belts throughout the choruses, which sound more like a repeated bridge. we also see the slower, more emotionally accented rap style from each of rapline. the integration of the vocals and rap are iconically HYYH and BTS. we see the raps pick up, and slow down providing for pre-choruses to build into the beautiful vocal ballad ranges.

autumn leaves performed live -- it’s something incredible. something i’m thankful i was able to experience. bangtan obviously never disappoint, but you can really hear the emotions in their voice with autumn leaves. the perfect adlibs, the changing rap paces, the roughness of rapline’s lower registers... it delivers the sadder themes of the song perfectly.

lyrically: time for a DEEP dive yet again. autumn leaves is about change, the loss of a love. of course meanings can be layered, it can be about change, but on the very surface its a song about loss of love because of changes over time.

jin and jungkook start out the song beautifully. the lyrics lead in directly addressing the theme: “fall like those dry leaves / just falling without strength, my love.” indicating that the song is like a letter - it’s a message to a love. the speaker is comparing their situation to a dead leaf, useless... time has run out... time to leave and fade away... something new to come a replace. falling without strength, it seems as if the speaker is saying they’ve got no more fight in them anymore, they’ve given up and realized continuing the fight is futile. it’s time to just let everything fall away, fade into black. “your heart just goes far away / i can’t catch you / i can’t catch you anymore, anymore / i can’t hold onto you, yeah” as much as the speaker would like to hold onto the moment they are in, hold onto the person they’re with... they can’t anymore. the other person is too far away. time has led to them drifting further apart, their relationship falling away like a dead leaf.

yoongi starts off the first rap, leading in with heavy emotions and continuing the story, and theme of a tree moving into fall. “those fallen leaves that look so insecure / seem like they’re looking at us.” the leaves have already fallen off the tree now, they’re dead on the ground -- peering back up at the speaker and their partner. i interpret this as the leaves are looking back at something they used to be a part of, something familiar to them, just as leaves are a part of our lives, trees spectating our lives as we live. these leaves were a part of their lives -- and now they’re gone, a piece is dead now. “if i touch your hand, even if it’s all at once / it seems like it’ll all become crumbs” -- this line illustrates again the analogy that the leaves are like the speaker’s significant other, someone that might just crumble away like it was never even there before, like a dream, it’s that distant. “i only looked / with the autumn wind” the seasons have changed, it’s that time, it’s been that time, and now the wind is a force that finally pushing the leaf off the tree, finally pushing the relationship or moment of life to end. “your words and expressions that become cold at some point / i can see that our relationship is fading / an empty relationship like the autumn sky” this line directly refers to the relationship like the seasons -- there was a spring, beautiful and blooming, love blossomed. and in summer it burned. but as time went on, the clouds went away and the rain stopped (the autumn sky doesn’t bring the spring showers to nurture the relationship anymore) and the fire consumed everything, burning it out and leaving nothing. “an ambiguous difference compared to before / today of all days, the much quieter night” there’s nothing left -- there no more crackle of the fire burning, no more love. it’s empty, and gone. but nobody knew when it became this way or why, it just did. “one lead left clinging to a branch / it’s shattering, i see the end.” there’s something hanging on -- perhaps it’s just the memory -- perhaps it’s just the part of them that is afraid of change, that wishes they could stay in the warmth. but even so, it’s beginning to crumble, it’s beginning the process to fall away. “dead leaves becoming dried / the silence inside your aloof heart / please don’t leave me / please don’t leave me, crumbling dead leaves” from dead to dried, the emphasis is made that at some point things have moved past ending or that they have been done for quite some time and for them to now also be dried. that being said they’re dried, not gone, the memories exist the emotions have left their place. someday the marks of this relationship will impact and provide the basis for another with someone else -- for better or worse.

then, we reach the bridge-like chorus. it’s simple in lyrics despite emotion packed in tone. “i want the you that meets my eyes / i want the you that wants me again” this line indicates that the partner in this situation has walked away and had decided not to even acknowledge the speaker. to pretend they don’t exist, to remove them from their life -- perhaps to not even keep them as a memory. “please don’t leave me / please don’t fall / never never fall / don’t go far away” the speaker begins to beg, holding onto the last few minutes of whatever they believe is left of the relationship. the begging of “don’t fall” is at odds with the previous verse about a leaf already fallen -- perhaps the chorus is coming from a more desperate state, or a moment before the inevitable happened (the season changed, the leaves fell).

the post chorus brings in jin and continues with the same lament - the same desperate begging. “baby you, girl i can’t let you go / baby you, girl i can’t give up on you” the speaker is determined to hold onto the moment before the final fall. they are unwilling to let it all go -- hanging on to the last moments but also to the memories it seems. “like those falling dry leaves / this love, like dry leaves / never never fall / it’s fading.” at this point the chorus has progressed to where the leaves are fading and falling -- morphing into something that is no longer a leaf anymore. what is the speaker holding onto any more? just as memories too fade -- is there anything even left?

the next verse brings in namjoon, it plays off of the themes and tones in yoongi’s verse. it begins with the leaves already having fallen. there’s no more grasping onto what was, it’s much more about moving on and the ways the memory frames our ability to go forward. “like all the dry leaves fall / like all the things i thought would last forever are leaving / you are my fifth season” the speaker couldn’t imagine this happening -- a fifth season, there is no such thing. the leaves have fallen, despite him never imagining that it would occur, he’s dumbstruck. there’s a level of naivety here -- speaking to the things they thought would last forever -- which harkens back to the entire HYYH era theme. youth. learning growth. namjoon is speaking to new steps in life happening after finding out that what was familiar and comfortable is gone, and will not return as he is stepping into a fifth season and uncharted territory. “even if i try to see you, i can’t look / you’re still green to me / even if the heart doesn’t move, it moves by itself / lingering feelings hung out piece by piece like laundry” namjoon is charging here that he’s placing more emphasis on the past and the memories he holds rather than wanting to confront the reality that the other person has changed. they’re still green - young, fresh, healthy... he can’t help but still be in love because he cannot confront the fact that the other person has in fact changed. and at the same time all of this change and loss has made him raw, he cannot conceal his feelings even when doing mundane day to day things... his emotions hung out for all to see. “only crimson memories fall / from above me / even if my branch doesn’t shake / they constantly fall” the colors have changed from green to crimson, he is forgetting the hard times -- the memories that are rotten. the other memories, even if he keeps trying to hang onto them, they’re also going - being tainted by the dark and unhappy reality of things begin done. “right, my love must fall / in order to rise” he realizes, he need to cut the baggage, cut his false belief that things are still good, so that he can start a new season and try again. embrace his youth once again and heal. “even when you’re near, my two eyes / are far away, it’s happening / i’m being thrown away like this / inside my memories, i become young again” he emphasizes again that he cannot confront the reality of loss of this other person but realizes that it’s completely out of his control - he is the one being thrown. but he knows he can retreat to whatever space he needs to in order to cope or heal, he can hide inside his youth in his mind. he can stay there until he heals and can emerge once again.

the chorus the repeats again, but this time it moves into the beautifully delivered bridge by taehyung. he begins with his low and smooth range “why can’t i give up on you yet / i hold on to these faded memories” which calls directly to namjoon’s verse. the seasons are changing, but he cannot let go of the past. things are fading but they remain his refuge. “is this greed? / i try to look back on these lost seasons / i try to turn back” he begins to realize that there’s an element to these emotions that might be toxic, that he wants but he knows he cannot have what he wants, or that he wants too much. he wishes he could retreat back to the summer, or the spring. turn back time and hide in those brighter moments.

the final verse is beautifully delivered with hoseok’s unique style. he offers an unexpected conclusion to the hopelessness of yoongi’s verse and the denial and dismissal in namjoon’s. “burn them brightly, woosh / it was all beautiful, right, our path / but they’ve all faded” hoseok remembers fondly the memories, reflects positively on the way that things had been going... but he recognizes that that path exists no more -- those leaves are dead and gone. he uses the word “burn” which is often what happens with dead leaves, they’re burning brightly those memories -- like they’re seared into his mind and heart. they’ll never leave his essence. “dry leaves come down like tears / the wind blows and everything grows apart all day” this line beautifully captures the mourning process and the confusion that follows -- the learning to unlearn and untangle your life from another person’s. to move away from something that was so permanent in your life and mind. “the rain is falling and you’re shattering / until the very last leaf, you you you” the weather references in this verse are fitting for the theme of seasons but they also take control away from the speaker - make reference to the fact that even as they speaker would like to, he cannot control his emotions just like he cannot control the situation and relationship coming to an end. the very last leaf -- he tried to hold on, he waited till the end, but finally the hope is gone.

the chorus repeats with some additional lines bracketing it by taehyung. ultimately the song leaves us with a feeling of being unsettled as things came to an ended. time passed by and things changed -- and end was inevitable. memories are what is left to hold onto. seasons change, just like we grow up or change. things in our lives will run their course, especially relationships. we learn from them, and even if we don’t want them to -- they leave scars... no matter how much we plead. but the reality is, we can retreat to whatever place in our mind or memory that we need to in order to repair ourselves to try again.

performance: the main video that is available online for autumn leaves is a performance from HYYH on tour. i cannot pinpoint the location of the filming, but it is the same as it was when i saw BTS live in 2016 in macau for HYYH the epilogue on tour. you can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UrM53Y9hHV0&ab_channel=lestwins1524

the performance is very much understated but beautiful. vocals and raps are delivered with more emotion than was captured in the recorded version. members do not perform any choreographed dances, but lights and graphics highlight each member as they come into focus to deliver their portion of the song. it’s beautiful and it’s just what was needed to portray the emotion and depth of the themes in autumn leaves.

in my own personal experience, seeing this song performed live was incredibly profound. the entire arena was silent. all eyes on bangtan and listening for each of the incredibly raw verses to be peformed. the crisp emotion laden in the vocal line choruses. the song is beautiful. it’s somber and mature. it exemplifies the drama of the HYYH era -- with lyrical and performance genius that is unparalleled. i’ve uploaded to this post my horrible video but i hope you enjoy ~~

tl;dr: autumn leaves might seem like another breakup song, but there’s more to it. it beautifully emphasizes the power of memory, time passage, and the desire to hold onto past versions of themselves. which for many listeners is far more profound than just a breakup -- there’s so many times when we need to leave behind moments in our lives, friends, family members... and while we want to hold onto something that is familiar, we can’t. they’re leaving, we are moving on... seasons come and go no matter how much we wish they’d just stay constant. dead leaves fall away, even when we’d wish the summer and spring would stay, they can’t. life is cyclical in nature. which harkens us back to the themes in spring day as well. the sun will always come out, the seasons will change... but we have to confront the fact that sometimes we will experience pain, loss, and change.

#bangtan #bts #lyrics #analysis #army #autumn leaves #bts army #hyyh #most beautiful part of life

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thesinglesjukebox · 6 years ago

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PALE WAVES - EIGHTEEN

[6.40]

After one 1975 tour, one Jukebox appearance, about seventy-million singles, and, at last, one album, here's "Eighteen"...

Edward Okulicz: This is the one. This is what Charli XCX should have been by combining guitars with gothy obesssions. This song takes all the great things about a murderer's row of good songs and just one-ups them in every way -- two that come to mind are "Clarity" by Zedd and "Heaven Sent" by Killing Heidi, but the list could stretch on for paragraphs. Songs with anthemic qualities that are a little bit doomed at the same time and don't care about that and don't regret one thing. The lyrics to the chorus describe a first love, but as I've got older I've learned that these ideas don't stop being true, and in fact get even more so. Falling in love doesn't change; some of us are lucky enough to get better at it over time, but every time you have that moment where you see someone for the first time, or you see someone in a new way for the first time, it's a revelation, and that's the same whether you're 18 or 28 or 38 or 118. Heather Baron-Gracie is singing the life I wanted at 18 and still want two decades on. The performance is a masterpiece of tension and timing and pop hooks and guitar crunch, but on top of that, it's just a perfect piece of pop songwriting. [10]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: The verses brim with a romanticism that peaks early on: a declaration from Heather Baron-Gracie that she can "finally see in color." The arpeggiating synths and reverberating drums conjure up a dreamlike state that her vocal melody cuts through: a representation of one's thoughts as they transition from "is this happening?" to "this is happening." That she doesn't repeat the melody in the second verse is heartwarming. This absence acknowledges the ecstasy of that honeymoon stage while allowing the ensuing parts of the relationship to feel just as meaningful; the second verse is still dreamlike, still intimate, still life-affirming. The chorus finds the fog clearing, almost blindsiding one with how direct the singing and instrumentation is. Here, Baron-Gracie provides a diaristic recounting of how much her lover means to her, sounding like Avril Lavigne during this endearing confessional. Hearing her profess that she "poured [her] heart out, spilled all [her] truth" makes one want to do the same. The pop-punk spirit of that chorus may scream teenager, but "Eighteen" understands that the people we cherish from those times -- or any time -- stick with us for eternity. [7]

Alex Clifton: "Eighteen" sounds like a lost Killers track full of youthful ebullience. Some songs remind you of being young and have you lost in thought of what that was once like; others put you back directly in the moment, bringing forth vivid sense memories you thought you'd lost. For me, "Eighteen" is the latter, throwing me back to a time when every day felt like a new kind of heartbreak while losing myself in whatever new song I'd found. It's a good kind of ache to remember that kind of youthfulness. I'm never going to be that girl again, but she'll live on in both my memory and in songs like this; in the end, that's all I can ask for. [7]

Thomas Inskeep: Throbbing rock with a Moroder-esque pulse that explodes into Paramore-colored rainbows on the chorus. If I was, in fact, 18, I'd probably be way into this. Since I'm almost 48, I'm just moderately into this. [6]

Juan F. Carruyo: Received nostalgia isn't what it once was. This sounds like third-rate Paramore. [2]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: This is an unholy fusion of Body Talk Robyn, Speak Now Taylor Swift, and Days Are Gone HAIM with all of the interesting edges or imperfections shaved off, leaving the most deeply radical centrist indie pop record I've heard in a long while. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: I continue to dislike "Call Your Girlfriend" on lyrical grounds, but it's still very obvious how crucial the melodic lift on "that you just met somebody new" or "the only way your heart will mend" or "and then you let her down easy" (Robyn has about six per song) is to the chorus, and how flat a similar chorus would sound if it didn't have one. [6]

Nortey Dowuona: Rattling synth arpeggios lift from the ground as searing guitar swings, and then is swept in a big, goofy hug by the limber, devastating drums. The bass silently bridges the gap alongside Heather Baron-Gracie, and both watch the guitar and drums race on ahead, then swing back as Heather rides it on the way to the beginning of her first relationship. [8]

Alfred Soto: For once dampening the synths for a sugar rush of guitars and harmonies, "Eighteen" takes Tegan and Sara into Undertones territory. Like good pop punk, it distills matters to essentials: "I finally felt like I feel for the first time" -- boom. [7]

Josh Love: Pale Waves present a fabulously goth visual aesthetic but their music is closer to brighter synthpop practitioners like Tegan and Sara or Carly Rae (even Chvrches is moodier). "Eighteen" itself engages in a similar bait and switch; at first blush it seems clearly like a rueful lament -- "I was just 18 when I met you/Poured my heart out, spilled all my truth." Yet the lyrics never deliver the expected betrayal or breakup, and so we're surprisingly left with either a love that's still thriving or one that can be looked back upon without bitterness or regret. [7]

Claire Biddles: Pale Waves' debut single (and my Amnesty pick for 2017!) "There's a Honey" was a big ol' perfect ten -- dually a mission statement for their teen-dream goth aesthetic and a self-contained delight. Each single since then (and there have been a lot, thanks to the over-eager contemporary rollout process) has felt like a watered-down version of that initial sharp hit; same shiny Cure-esque guitar waves, same vocal inflections, same song structure, but less magic. "Eighteen" is no exception to the tried-and-very-tested Pale Waves formula. Being a descendent of such crystallised pop perfection means it retains some sparkle. There's a couple of lovely moments -- the couplet "We sat on the corner kissing each other/Felt like I could finally see in colour" is cute -- but overall the lyrics are a little clunky ("Finally felt like I could feel for the first time," yikes) and the transition between sections is too sudden, too formulaic. They've definitely got something but I'd love to see more variety on the second album. [5]

Jonathan Bradley: Pale Waves makes glistening, tear-struck synth-pop that aches like MUNA and quivers like Matt Healy. Even that alone is not nothing -- good bands have survived on finding one sound and doing it well -- and "Eighteen" has more than that. Moments of Heather Baron-Gracie's narrative detail catch on adolescent crisis: "The city depresses me, but you try to be everything I need/We sat on the corner kissing each other," is drifting emotionalism worthy of a YA novel or a teen movie voiceover. Her tones curl like cellophane: gaudy, thin, and brilliant. That this band is capable of sharper hooks and more potently melodic tracks speaks well for "Eighteen"; even when their inspiration is meanly apportioned, it still shines so bright. [7]

Maxwell Cavaseno: As Dirty Hit distressingly grows into a factory of 1975-soundalike music, Pale Waves were merciful enough to grant us a reprieve from that and to give us their single which sounds the least like The 1975! It's unfortunately marked by Heather Baron-Gracie giving one of her worst vocal performances yet, a continuous grating whine and a mix that feels like an amorphously sleek pop-punk drive to earnestness paired with inane, cheesy lyrics. But at the same time, given the fact that the band has been in a subtle danger of falling victim to perception of simply being a vehicle of extra ideas from their label's cash cow, you have to commend the them for deviating just slightly enough from that mold. Should we be so lucky, maybe they'll get even bolder with time and find an identity that may stand parallel, or even superior. [3]

Nicholas Donohoue: On the level of "Eighteen" being a universal anthemic love song I'm not moved, but I fully see the person who would love this and I have no reason not to be happy for them. [5]

Will Rivitz: This song is the Biggest goddamn Mood I've heard all year. Starting off the song -- and My Mind Makes Noises as a whole -- with the line "This city depresses me"? Big Mood. Doing that over an uncompromisingly triumphant major-key instrumental that only gets louder and more expansive from there? Bigger Mood. Encapsulating the entire scope of young love in a fifteen-second chunk, in which "I finally felt like I could feel for the first time" somehow loses all semblance of cliché thanks to a delivery that teeters on the brink of euphoria before the bridge pushes it over to the other side? Biggest Mood. This is the last twelve lines of "The Fish" mixed with Gerard Way mixed with Carly Rae Jepsen, and I do not make that last comparison lightly. Even if "Give Yourself A Try" had lyrics that fit its sonic tone instead of Matty Healy's too-wise-for-you clunkers, it still wouldn't pack nearly the thunderbolt as this, and I gave that a [10] too, so... [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Pale Waves #pop #writing #music review #music

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najatheangel · 4 years ago

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hello! Is it okay to request a written ship for the NCT units? If not feel free to delete this! Thank you so much!

I’m an INFJ, my Hogwarts house is ravenclaw. I’m spiritual, passionate, sensual and astrology as well as tarot are one of my biggest passions. I’m also very creative and love to draw, paint, write, sing, etc. I’m sensitive, caring and empathetic, I attract all kind of people (even the ones I don’t want to). My career is really really important to me (being successful at it that is), I like to be independent (especially financially) and work hard, but I’m also diplomatic and really desire to form a team/union with my partner. I have my values set straight, I’m idealistic and know what I want, I like to have fun, talk, be goofy and laugh (memes = life) and see the magic and beauty in life (a bit fairy like) but at the same time I’m deep and very serious about my morals and boundaries (I’m either a paradox or the best of both worlds asdfghjkl jk jk). I’m very trusting, loyal and forgiving when it comes to the people I consider family. I’m also very nature obsessed and rlly rlly love animals!!! people might call me weird or eccentric because of what I like and sometimes because of the way I dress but personally I think I’m fairly normal 😅 Btw, if you take astrology into consideration these are my personal planets; cancer sun, Scorpio moon, Virgo rising, cancer mercury, Leo Venus, libra Mars!! Sorry for spamming, take care!

Hello cutie anon, thanks so much for requesting and telling me about yourself. We suprisingly have a lot of similarities hehe. No worries for spamming, it’s all good. Here’s your ship lovely...😉

From NCT 127, I ship you with...Taeyong

Positive Side: You both would build the perfect relationship and empire together. Although your hogwart houses are different, they can still unite and work together pretty well. I might be wrong, but Taeyong honestly gives me hufflepuff vibes and as a hufflepuff myself, you can tell Taeyong works hard to get what he wants and loyalty is his number one thing when it comes to building any relationship with someone whether romantic or platonic just like you. He also appreciate your creativity and how you establish your talent for singing, drawing, all that would make him encourage you to share your work for everyone to see, even if the pieces were incomplete just sharing your process alone made him proud. He would even try to get sm to incorporate your designs for Nct 127’s next album cover and merch. Outside of your careers, your both very adorable and goofy together playing animal crossing together, sending each other the funniest memes and buying each other 20+ stuffed animals. When he’s off on tour or trace doing promotions, he trusts you to watch the dorm keeping his room clean, tidying up the house and let’s you spend the night with him when he comes back from work. The 127 squad would lovee how much you cater to Taeyong and help him get through his tough phases as the mother of 23 members, leader of 127 and performing month after month barely getting any breaks.

Negative Side: Most days, the forecast is sunny between you two. Other days, they can get gloomy. As mentioned earlier, Taeyong is the kind of man that’s very sweet, patient and strong, but sometimes his mental state is not in the best state. With him being a cancer, they not only can get emotionally sensitive because of how much stress, pain and suffering he holds inside from his job, the media and the pressure of keeping that perfect idol image. Whenever you offer to help him or ask him if there’s anything you can do, he would push you away so he wouldn’t feel like a burden to you and don’t want to come across being weak infront of you.

But...: He’s also someone just like you that needs time to himself, but also needs that affection and support from his loved one. Your one of the people that can give him that reassurance he needs and reminds him every day that he has to pull himself together for his fans, members and family. When he has his bad days, you make sure to sing his favorite song to him while caressing his head and giving him tiny soft pepper kisses on his face which lights his world up everytime. When your having your bad days, he’s the first to run to you and hug you tight letting you scream, cry of rant until you’ve released all those emotions outside your body.

I miss taeyongie so much. Get better soon my angel😭😭💚💚

From Nct Dream, I ship you with...Renjun

Positive Side: Another life partner in the long run. I’m seriously getting soul mate energy here. First of all, your similarities, hobbies and passions match to a tea. Renjun would want someone that would understand how much his job as a idol means the world to him and the fact that your one of the people that wanted to get close to him as a person instead of getting close to him for the fame. He’s also every empathetic just like you when it comes to you trying to achieve your goals independently and your morals he would be gentleman and wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with. While he’s still young, he would love have his fun with you by relaxing by painting heart sculptures in his room and exchanging them to keep on your selfs for memories. When your out, most of the time he drags you along with the dreamies to thier crazy adventures, but you don’t mind being chaotic with them. Renjun also seems like someone who doesn’t care about apperance that much so he wouldn’t feel ashamed at all having you beside him on red carpet. The thing that he loved the most about you was how passion and your bright personality that makes everyone in the room face light up. Just like Taeyong, we would want someone that he can trust with his secrets, problems and personal belongings which he can depend on you for that. Overall this relationship can last a lifetime whether friendship or romantic, the bond is unbreakable.

Negative Side: When you both started dating, it was hard to balance your work life’s and relationship. Obviously that’s going to happen because of your schedules, it was hard to stay consistent in the relationship. For example, you both used to text or facetime everyday, but then that turned to once a week when a big event is coming up. Another example is when you both have to cancel dates on weekends, because of work or family emergencies. This almost led to you breaking up at some point and it was frustrating to deal with. This is when he starts being hard on himself because he wishes he can be with you all the time, but he knows he can’t do that.

But...: Once you guys have decided to meet up one more time to have a what you call a couple intervention, you both decide to stay together and stay in contact every chance you can because you both love each other too much to let each other go. After that heart to heart moment with Renjun, the dreamies was so happy when you two walked out of his room together screaming, cheering and crying. They loved how you two compliment each other and would be devastated if you both broke up so to celebrate everyone had a karaoke night and sleepover at the dorm. Way V members even crashed the party and was happy for the beautiful couple reuniting. The night ended when you and renjun shared the most romantic beautiful kiss under the moonlight on the rooftop.

Okay but this Renjun thooo be fine asf under red lighting. 👀❤️❤️

From Way V, I ship you with...Ten

Positive Side: Two creative minds that fall in love. When Ten first meet you, he loves the way you sing, laugh when he tells you jokes, cried when you missed him and how you get excited every time you see polar bears at the zoo. He took note of all of your facial expressions, what you liked what you didn’t like, he wanted to to discover every side of you. What led him to completely fall for you was your family oriented traits. The way you know how to properly take care of people around you, your ability to give good advice to someone who’s going through a tough time and how successful you can be as a strong independent woman. As far as talents, your both on the same area as far as singing and drawing. I can imagine ten trying to teach you his choreography so you both one day can perform together on stage. He would be teasing you if you would mess up in between, but would get shy and blush over how cute you are making your little mistakes. Once the day come, sm allowed you and Ten to release a single together called Waiting for love which describes your relationship together, but the fans didn’t know that ;) Overall you two would be the perfect business partners and lovers together which everyone would support.

Negative Side: The fact that you two are so similar, it can sometimes be hard to handle. You both have high expectations of each other and it’s rare that you have arguments. Once the other person made a mistake, it’s hard to find that trust or recover from the disappointment. The mistakes that usually happen are if someone hides an accomplishment from the other person or when they’re not spending enough time with them. It’s small issues like that effects the dynamic of the relationship.

But...: Your both very forgiving and have faith in each other. Your both easily persuaded by each other’s presence alone so the arguments don’t drag out too long. It’s back to the normal routine where you to live your fantasy married life together cuddling with Leon, Bella and Louis. “Honey let’s go to the art gallery together and then buy some slushies!” You walk up to him tapping the top of his nose. “Yes baby I’m on my way. Let me take care of these idiots first.” Glaring at baby yang yang and Lucas who’s laughing at his cute voice. He proceeds to run after them leaving you giggling adorabley watching them.

Out of everyone, I ship you with...Taeyong

Thanks so much for requesting lovely anon and I appreciate your patience. Have a nice day/night. 🌷🌷

#submission #kpop ships #written ships #nct 127 ships #nct dream ships #way v ships #way v #ten #nct dream #renjun #nct 127 #Taeyong

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contessabrewer · 7 years ago

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Hurricanes: It's Personal

No reporter wants to cry over a story, much less, cry publicly. But I’ve done it, recently. Three hurricanes in less than a month have given me more than enough opportunity. I felt myself getting emotional when the top executive for Crowley shipping in Puerto Rico began crying in his interview with me, so incredibly frustrated over the logjam of life-saving supplies stuck at his terminal in the Port of San Juan, with no drivers, no diesel, a shortage of passable roads to move essential goods to the suffering families who needed them most. I felt incredible anxiety riding along with my photographer, Victor Calderin, as we drove across the length of the island and finally began to look for his sister. He didn’t know whether she was alive. No one in the family had heard from her. Hurricane Maria had devastated the landscape. Lush mountainsides were now barren and brown. Street signs no longer stood. We stopped four times for Victor to ask directions to his childhood home. Finally, he exclaimed, “There it is! I see it.” We’ll pulled the Jeep into the driveway, outside a locked gate, and Victor yelled for his sister. We waited. A few seconds of silence seemed to last agonizing minutes. And finally we heard her, “I’m coming.” I cried as she unlocked the gate and embraced her brother. But we left her and Puerto Rico with no power, little running water and disaster, though not insurmountable, a far cry from the situation in Houston or Irma. When I arrived in Houston- I was astonished at the flooding. It took my team hours to find a way past flooded highways into downtown. And my first day reporting was filled with stories that were hard to comprehend. Two minutes away from my live shot for CNBC, I waited, watching a stream of people crowd through the doors at the George R. Brown Convention Center in Houston. Three days after Hurricane Harvey made landfall, the resident population at the mega-shelter downtown was skyrocketing. Lines of volunteers made the chaos at the door seem even more overwhelming. My eye was drawn to two children, boys with bright-red curly hair, about seven years old. Twins. As the mom of twin boys myself, I always watch with curiosity the way other twins interact with each other. These children were accompanied by a woman, presumably their mother, carrying a big bag of clothing. I watched as one of the twins gazed around this noisy, crowded place and his face just crumpled and he began crying. So did I. My photographer watched and said, “Keep it together. Take a deep breath.” So I did. I kept the tears from spilling but felt only a tenuous grasp on my composure. Carl Quintanilla introduced me from the studio and I said only one sentence before my voice broke. I stepped to the side of the camera - directed my photographer to show the scene at the door and tried to explain what I’d seen, why I was reacting so emotionally. But I had to take long pauses, because my voice was quaking and the tears were close to spilling. I made it through the live shot but felt deep chagrin at succumbing to my feelings. My theory is that reporters are there to document reality- to capture stories at a certain moment in time and allow viewers to feel whatever the story sparks in them. But as standard practice, we ignore what the story sparks in us, in part, because our feelings are not the story. In part we ignore our inner turmoil because we have a job to do- more live shots, more interviews, more broll. And even at the end of the day, typically, there’s an early call the next day and fresh assignments. And yet - sometimes the story is so big, even veteran journalists become emotional. That morning, before the incident with the twins and the near-crying on tv, I met a family who had come into the convention center in the wee hours of the morning. They’d been rescued from their home in the outer suburbs of Houston, ridden several hours in the back of a box truck and were soaked to the bone, including the little children. That morning before I came so close to breaking down, I interviewed an 18-year-old woman with four children, all younger than three. She recounted her harrowing tale of water rising… escaping to the attic, being rescued by helicopter. But there was only enough room for her, her one-year-old-son, a seven-month old nephew, two-year-old nephew with a heart condition and a three-year-old niece. So this teenager wrapped her arms around all four children and rode in a swinging helicopter basket to safety and a crowded convention center. She left behind all the other adults in her family, in an attic, with a power saw. As three children slept, I took the baby in my arms and the young woman borrowed a cell phone from other evacuees, hoping to make contact with loved ones. That morning, before I felt myself at the breaking point, I met a man wandering outside the convention center. He told me he was looking for his sister-in-law and her four children. He would take them from the convention center back to his home, to safety. Half an hour later, I noticed little twin toddlers- and their mother who was trying to wrangle two slightly older children too. She was wearing an expression I know all too well. Frustration on the edge of a despair, the sheerest veneer of control. “Can I help you?” I asked. “I’m the mom of twins too.” “Yes, please.” She answered, “My ride’s here but trying to get them outside is like herding cats.” I took the twins each by a hand and she followed with a bag of clothes and the two other children, while a shelter volunteer reprimanded me for leaving the media pen. I ignored the reprimand and walked outside the convention center. Her “ride” was the same man I’d been talking to before. Perhaps it’s not surprising that my own feelings had surfaced. My own heart is first-and-foremost a mother’s heart. I want to solve problems, mend boo-boos and generally fix things. In daily life - I’m a fighter, not a flee-er and frequently intervene in other people’s problems on the streets of New York City. And yet - this was more. Ten thousand people packed into one shelter - each one of them with a story to tell… some with near death experiences, many of them, now homeless. That day ended with a ride-along in antique military vehicles through flooded neighborhoods where I saw homes that looked as though they should’ve been condemned as uninhabitable decades ago. For people who live in that kind of poverty, a flood of this magnitude is a life-altering event. Actually, even for people with means and resources, a flood is a life-altering event. Late that night, when I finally made it back to the safety and comfort of my downtown hotel, I FaceTimed my husband and began telling him about my day. I began sobbing. And so did my husband. And something clicked. I lost my own home in Hurricane Sandy in 2012, which wasn’t even an hurricane when it made landfall. I was anchoring on NBC New York as the storm surge washed through my neighborhood and filled my apartment with five feet of water. While I was on the air for hours-long shifts that week, my husband trekked to Lower Manhattan and didn’t return for 18 hours. When he rejoined me at the midtown hotel serving as our own shelter from the storm, he put his face in his hands and cried. “Everything is gone, Contessa. Everything.” I said what so many people say after natural disasters, “It’s just stuff. We can replace it.” “No…” my husband countered, “All the stuff in those bins… letters from your great-grandfather and your childhood dolls. All your photo albums. They all got ruined.” Five days after the storm hit, I was finally able to visit my apartment. My furniture was piled in a trash heap on the street outside. Inside, the water was gone, but the muck remained. It was overwhelming and discouraging. I did a story on my neighborhood - and included my own loss. As I recorded a standup about what the flooding- the irreplaceable momentos now in a trash heap- I began to say “It’s just stuff…” But I choked up and fought back tears. Because losing your stuff, stuff you think is important, losing your home which represents safety and privacy and the intimacy of family hurts. It’s traumatic and emotional and scary, even if you have resources, a support network and a safety net to help you recover. It took us 16 months to return to our apartment - another year before it stopped being a construction zone. We fought with the insurance company, got pregnant and delivered twins and redesigned our apartment to accommodate babies. Apparently- we’re not over the trauma. I was back from Houston for less than a week before I left for Florida for coverage of Hurricane Irma. My mom and three uncles all live in Florida. Uncle Bob operates a wildlife refuge at the edge of the Everglades. It was decimated in Hurricane Andrew and, watching the track of Irma, I worried about the animals, but especially about my uncle and his very ill wife. At the height of the storm, in a hot, humid hotel with no electricity - I got texts through to check on them. Safe - but with significant property damage. I saw it first hand when I stopped to check in on them on my way to the Florida Keys. Rising rivers forced flooded my Uncle Joe’s neighborhood days after the storm passed- and he refused to evacuate and leave an elderly neighbor and the neighbor’s cats alone. Driving through the Florida Keys was haunting… so much devastation in a place where so many people have made happy memories. Restaurants, hotels, marinas, RV parks, private homes, boats, businesses - wiped out. Cell phones, electricity, sanitation, running water, the basics we all take for granted had taken a big hit on the island chain. Monroe County Sheriff’s deputies manned checkpoints to keep evacuees away from their homes, where the infrastructure couldn’t yet support an onslaught of returning residents. When I talked to them, I mentioned my cousin, Misty, only six months older than me. She was a Monroe County deputy when she was killed in a car crash on Highway 1, on the job, in 2010. The deputy at the checkpoint, reached out to pat my shoulder and tell me, his sergeant knew my cousin well and had taken her death particularly hard. He told me where to look for her highway memorial, to come back to the checkpoint tomorrow and maybe I could get through to Key West to do my job. Just outside Key West- on Stock Island, we stood before a home that had been peeled apart my Irma’s winds. The roof and exterior walls were gone, exposing the kitchen, like a television or movie set. As my photographer tried to get enough cellular bandwidth to set up a liveshot - a man approached me with an aggressive posture and his teal shirt unbuttoned to his beer belly. “Who do you work for?” He demanded. My cap was emblazoned with my employer’s name. “You should not be here. You should not be shooting this. You people are going to make it look like -this- is all of Key West. This is NOT the story!” He was invading my personal space. And I explained that I had seen the roads cleared in Key West… the people sitting on Duval Street enjoying a beer. But this family no longer had a home. “It’s one individual example!” “No sir. It’s up and down throughout the Florida Keys and all over south Florida. There are thousands of families with hurricane damage.” He pulled out his cell phone to begin recording me, and I turned to walk back to my news truck. Just then a woman approached and told me in Spanish, the destroyed home I was standing near was hers… that she’d lost everything, including clothes and shoes. She asked, did I know how to contact FEMA. “Oh great!” Yelled the aggressive man. “Now you really have your story.” No sympathy. No expression of human kindness. Just concern that I might disseminate what he considered fake news. He continued recording me as I flagged down police officers and asked them to help the devastated woman standing with me. “Fake news” has become a commonplace accusation. In that darkened hotel lobby during Hurricane Irma, I overheard two men discussing the news coverage of the storm. “I saw it on CNN,” one insisted. “Well, CNN. That’s fake news” the other countered, with no obvious sign of humor or sarcasm. A Gallup poll conducted last December, after the presidential election, asked respondents “Rate the honesty and ethical standards of people in these different fields”— and then listed the usual nurses, doctors, insurance salespeople, lawyers, car salesmen. 41% of respondents ranked journalists’ honesty and ethical standards as low or very low. Bankers and lawyers scored better. Members of Congress, as a profession, scored worse. And yet- those who ranked journalists’ ethics as very high or high has remained fairly steady over the past decades. Perhaps it’s because some Americans truly believe that we cannot have a functioning democracy without a free press. Perhaps it’s because some Americans have a deep love of current events, of the stories reporters bring them from around the globe and around the corner. Perhaps it’s because some Americans know personally a reporter, know the heartbreak and the drama that reporters encounter on the job. Those experiences enrich journalists, bringing a complexity to our coverage that we rarely explain to our viewers, listeners or readers. Interviewing parents who have lost a child has always been gut-wrenching to me. But now, I too have lost a child, a son who was born too early. That colors my view of bereavement and loss. Being unemployed myself has influenced the way I see the struggle for jobs, adding to my understanding, for instance, why laid-off workers in coal country wouldn’t go through job retraining and switch careers. And, yes, losing my home has affected the way I perceive natural disasters that wipe away entire landscapes. Years ago, when I first began at MSNBC, our nation was engaged in the Iraq war and patriotism was running high. Everyday on our programs we would profile a service member and talk about where that person was stationed. One day, our rundown included the story of a member of the armed forces who was killed in battle. The script included a letter the man had written to his unborn child. In preparing for my newscast, I’d read the script and the letter several times, welling up with tears each time. I thought I was fine. And yet, when it came time to present the story, I choked up again, my voice breaking. I struggled through long pauses before finishing. After the show, I got a call that our editor-in-chief wanted to see me in his office. I was terrified of the scolding I would get for allowing my emotions to cloud the objective presentation of the story. Jerry Nachman, who the New York Times described an old-style newshound in its obituary of the legendary news editor, sat me down and said, I know you probably feel bad about choking up on the air. Don’t. Today you showed our audience a journalist with heart. You’re young. You’re going to cover a lot of stories. Don’t ever lose your heart.

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circlesandsoundwaves · 7 years ago

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The Time I Cried at an Avett Brothers Show: by Tara Velarde

Words and photo by Tara Velarde, musician.

My older brother introduced me to The Avett Brothers sometime around 2008, when I was about 17 years old. He was really in to the band, and my other siblings and I jumped in on the fun. They had just released Emotionalism, and we spent many car rides jamming out to “Die, Die, Die”, “Paranoia in B-Flat Major”, “Will You Return?”, and many others. We often went to watch an open mic at a coffee shop in nearby McMinnville, OR called Cornerstone, and when two of my brothers and I finally mustered up the courage to sign up to perform in our very first open mic, we chose “Swept Away” from their album Mignonette. To this day we all agree it was probably the worst performance of our lives - I for one forgot nearly all of the chords and many of the words as we chunked our way through the tune that we had whipped up only hours before. Still, it’s a fond memory, if for nothing else simply because I can say that this band was with me from the very beginning. The Avett Brothers are still one of the most important bands to me of all time, but the journey to get there has been years long.

A real turning point in my life came on September 6th, 2014. Having seen the band once before, I bought myself and two of my younger siblings tickets to go see them when they came to the pastoral Edgefield outside of Portland, comprised of one big sloping lawn that ends in a large stage nestled among the trees. While I had already been a fan for a good six years, there was something magical about this night that caused a change in me. At the time, I had just graduated with a BA in Music Education and was making my way into the educational scene as a choral director - I wrote and performed my own songs, but pursuing that as a career was sort of a back-burner hope that I had nursed in secret. When I saw Scott and Seth take the stage (we were, as fans like to say, “Scott-side” for this performance), I was struck at how incredibly human they were. Just two ordinary guys, singing their hearts out, standing there that day as the product of ten years of relentless hard work. Their music was powerful, their thoughts deep, their voices wild, and here they were, a very successful band. I thought to myself, “I can do that.” And from that day on I have shifted the gears of my life and dedicated myself to pursuing my music as my career path.

Fast-forward to the summer of 2015. My younger sister Cally had been with me at the Edgefield show, and in the aftermath we had turned into true Avett fanatics. I bought us tickets to two of the three nights that The Avett Brothers were playing at Red Rocks, and we had saved all our money to make the road trip. It was our big adventure that summer. We wrote Avett lyrics on the windows of my car, packed up my tent and some cooking supplies, and camped our way from Portland to Denver to see the shows. One of the hallowed lyrics on display, from the song “Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise”, was our all-time favorite: “decide what to be, and go be it.” This was the quintessential inspirational quote, the one that gave us permission and courage to pursue what we loved, and damn those that said we shouldn’t. We blasted this song and many others through Idaho farmland, Utah desert, and Colorado mountaintops along the way.

The day of the concert came, and we applied makeup in the campground bathroom, donned our Avett shirts, and entered the geological landmark known as the Red Rocks Amphitheater. My phone was about to die, so I brought my iPad for pictures and videos. Lake Street Dive opened the night with a killer set to get us dancing, but by the end there was a thunderstorm rolling in. The rain picked up, and lightning flashed here and there. They announced from the stage that everyone was to go down to the underground gift shops below the stage to wait out the storm, so everyone hurried off of the tiered benches and crammed into the rooms below. We waited for nearly an hour before it was pronounced safe to return and continue with the concert. The moment we had been waiting for.

The Avett Brothers did not disappoint. They dove into their set and we danced and sang along at the top of our lungs. At about the third song, I reached down to my purse to grab my iPad and get a shot of the action. I was confused when I found no iPad. I looked deeper into my purse, around on the ground, asked Cally if she had it. It was not there. Worried and exasperated, I thought we must have left it down below in the gift shop. I told my sister that I was going to look for it and would be right back. I ran down and frantically looked through the gift shops. When it wasn’t there, I went up to the large platform at the top of the amphitheater to look around and ask the attendants. No one had seen it. I was on the edge of the platform farthest from the amphitheater when I heard the heavy drums and whirling organ of “Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise” begin. No, I thought to myself, this can’t be happening. From a distance came the words that we had traveled so far to hear - “When nothing is owed, deserved, or expected / And your life doesn’t change by the man that’s elected / When you’re loved by someone, you’re never rejected / Decide what to be, and go be it.”

With tears in my eyes I ran across and grasped onto the rails at the very top of the theater - ahead of me was a valley of seats, full of bodies, lights, and color, and at the very bottom, almost indistinguishable in the distance, The Avett Brothers crashed out my favorite song. Somewhere in the mass was my little sister, wondering where I was and equally devastated that I had missed it.

I finished the song from up top, and returned to find her. We cried. We hugged. And we committed to the rest of the show with total abandon, mining every ounce of joy as we sang and danced along, as lightning continued to split the sky above the lights of Denver in the distance.

I have seen The Avett Brothers two times since then, once in Oregon and once in Washington, I have gotten my song on more than one occasion. It’s always been fulfilling, and always brings me to tears. I did get my iPad back - I had evidently left it on the ground as we were all rushed off our seats, and a nice guy had picked it up, and later shipped it to me. The song “Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise” means more to me now than ever - acknowledge your dreams, give them power, work hard, and hold on to wherever the adventure takes you. I will continue to bring this song with me as I adventure.

#the time i cried at a show #feature #tara velarde #the avett brothers #avett brothers #music #music blog

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david-gonzo · 7 years ago

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Favorite Albums of 2017

Even though I still listened to a ton of metal this year as always, my top ten best albums list is a little different for me. A lot of more low key, eclectic stuff…especially compared to last year’s list that was dominated by metal and hip hop. Part of it is just what I listened to and the mix of what was released. Part of it could just be that I needed to find more chill moments of solace in the shit show of current events 2017 was. A lot of great headphone music in this list. I had a very hard time keeping it down to 10. Vattnet’s new sound with their s/t album came so close but didn’t quite make it.

Moses Sumney – Aromanticism

This is soul music. Not really R&B, very minimalist at times, carried almost entirely by Moses soaring upper register and falsettos. Emotionally therapeutic in a devastating sort of way. If I had to say only one album was the best of the year, this would be it.

Bjork – Utopia

Like all of Bjork’s later albums, headphones are the way to go. You need to get close and intimate to really hear and appreciate everything that’s going on. A very organic sounding album, filled with the wind…voice, flutes, bird calls, etc. Not exactly upbeat, but still, it makes me feel hopeful and happy.

Pallbearer – Heartless

Arguably their best album to date, this still young band has found the sweet spot of soaring Rush/Sabbath vocals, crushing doom riffs and great catchy melodies. This one got a LOT of spins from me this year. Easily my favorite pure rock/metal album of the year.

Zola Jesus – Okovi

She stepped up her game big time with this album, beautiful songs, even the slightly depressing ones dealing with suicide. A lot of the sounds remind of Bjork in a good way…she’s working in the same vein but still doing her own thing. Powerful vocals over string/electronic arrangements. I like this album more every time I put it on.

Open Mike Eagle – Body Brick Kids Still Daydream

Best hip hop album of the year for me. His flow is super low key and off kilter, yet still catchy as hell. The beats are somewhat lo fi and all seem to start off a little of balance, but then once you get your sea legs within the song they just work.

Mountain Goats – Goths

The Goats are one of my new favorite bands, great folk rock with superb clever songwriting. Great storytelling and there’s always a line or two that make me chuckle. This album is all about the 80’s goth scene, which even though I know little about the subject, love this album regardless.

Mac Demarco – This Old Dog

Maybe one of the most upbeat breakup albums ever. The production on this is a lot better than on his previous albums (even though I loved the sound of Salad Years so much) but it is still in the lo fi garage/yacht rock category. His songwriting is more mature and improved as well, but still with a clever humorous edge. Very catchy and fun to sing along to, this is just great good mood chill music.

Blanck Mass- World Eater

Made by one half of the Fuck Buttons, this electronic noise album is fucking heavy. There’s plenty of great soothing stuff to start to zone out to before the levels of sounds start adding on and before you know it you’re in the middle of an intense banger of a track. Great for long car trips or just cranking up on headphones at work.

Zeal and Ardor – Devil is Fine

Zeal and Ardor combine African American spirituals, blues, and black metal in such an essential way that scratches an itch I never knew existed before. Surprisingly catchy, very heavy and just odd. I can’t honestly say that this is one of the best albums on my list, but it could easily be my favorite. Its mere existence brings me joy.

The Hearers – 5 Seasons

Coming 6 years after their previous album, I was long awaiting this album from one of my favorite bands and it didn’t disappoint. It’s still psychedelic country rock slow jams like most of their other work. But still inventive and interesting. Production is top notch, this doesn’t sound like the work of a “part time/semi local” band. Another album that will continue to age like fine wine and get better with each listen. The fact that I got to hear a few of these songs in a rare live show a few weeks after this album drops was extra bonus points.

Honorable mentions/almost made the top 10 cut: Vattnet – Vattnet, Taake – Kong Vinter, St. Vincent – Masseducation, Freddy Gibbs – You Only Live 2wice, Big K.R.I.T. – 4ever is a Long Time, Couch Slut – Contempt, King Gizzard and Lizard Wizard – Flying Microtonal Banana, Ulver – The Assassination of Julius Cesar.

#2017albums #best of the year 2017

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flanneljammies · 7 years ago

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2017 Top 20

20. Vous Autres - Trente Pièces d'Argent Ominous French metallions playing blackened post-metal. The glacial pace makes the emotional turmoil of the throat-shredding vocals even more harrowing. Slow and low baby. (self-released | Bandcamp)

19. Au Champ Des Morts - Dans La Joie Atmospheric black metal that touches on more than just post-rock and shoegaze. A mastery of dynamics and arrangement allows these Frenchmen to dabble in doom, noise rock, hardcore, and straight-up rock and roll. They also choose to fuck with the established vocal conventions, eschewing throat-shredding shrieking on occasion and slipping into solemnly intoned chants or a sort of hardcore bark. It's desperate and melancholy and yet often strangely uplifting. (Debemur Morti | Bandcamp)

18. Do Make Say Think - Stubborn Persistent Illusions Post-rock stalwarts return to form, making me almost forget about their last several lackluster records. More muscular and bombastic then they've ever been, DMST also seems to be gingerly testing the waters of math-rock. There are still the gorgeous passages of lilting, pastoral beauty, but never at the expense of emotionally wrenching melody. It's no Enemy Airship, but it's a good'un. (Constellation | Bandcamp)

17. Only The Bones - Death And His Brother Sleep This Chicago band describes itself (with tongue planted firmly in cheek one supposes) as "post-Fugazi." They're not far off the mark. Members of Swan King, Snow Burial, and This Computer Kills churn out jagged Dischord-style post-punk hooks that veer off into psych and metal territory occasionally. It's economical, concise, and packs one hell of a wallop. (self-released | Bandcamp)

16. Maximum Busy Muscle - Maximum Busy Muscle Expansive double-drummer noiserock from Athens GA. Unlike most bands trafficking in the post-Touch & Go world, MBM dispenses with vocals entirely and go completely instrumental. But this isn't some namby-pamby post-rock record. This is a tough-as-nails excursion into a maelstrom. The razor-sharp musicianship teases out swaggering noiserock, post-hardcore, and mathrock. But when the band opens up a bit and lets your catch your breath, there's also some sort of weird psychedelic thing going on that I can't quite put my finger on. It's an exhilarating and engrossing roller coaster. (self-released | Bandcamp)

15. Gnod - Just Say No To The Psycho Right-wing Capitalist Fascist Industrial Death Machine Anarchist drone punk from the UK. Apparently the band has been around for the better part of a decade and their recorded output has dabbled in all sorts of styles. I'm just getting hip to them now and really have only listened to this record. It's got the singleminded motorik of krautrock and the shambolic flip off of early Fall. Gnod manages to wring every last morsel of tone, meaning, and dynamics out of a single riff and still keep me on the edge of my seat. These muscular and ominous mantra-like songs underscore the modern dread summed up in the title. Crucial. (Rocket | Bandcamp)

14. Breag Naofa - II Seattle's Breag Naofa continue their forced march of crushing devastation. Their blackened post-doom is suffocating and yet somehow still sounds like it's about to take flight. Amid the pulverizing riffs and throat-shredding vocals, ugly and twisted melodies emerge from the gloom with just enough hook to ensnare you and pull you struggling and gasping to the surface. This is an epic, sprawling indictment. Subject yourself. (Halo Of Flies | Bandcamp)

13. Ex Eye - Ex Eye Saxophonist Colin Stetson leads this arty post-everything collective. If you're looking some nice jazz sax here, you'll be sorely disappointed. But if you're looking for damaged post-rock colliding with extreme metal, you've come to the right place. Ex Eye often reminds me of Maserati without any of that band's restraint and a whole lot more blown-out noisy layers. At other points I'm reminded of weirdo metal like, say, Liturgy but way blacker (both in style and mood) and chaotic. Stetson's sax blends with electronics and guitars so that it's often hard to tell what's going on and who's playing what. This is a stunning, immersive debut. An heir, perhaps, to John Zorn’s crown? (Relapse | Bandcamp)

12. Amenra - Mass VI Slow-burn doom from Belgium. The album begins with air-raid-sirens-in-the-distance feedback before a gentle guitar strum emerges. After what seems like an eternity (but really is only four minutes), the sky comes crashing down with impossibly pummeling guitar and drums and a tortured high-pitched screech. Amenra takes their time in all things. If that riff needs to go on for eight minutes, then goddammit, that's how long it'll go. Vocalist Colin van Eeckhout’s new-found comfort with quiet-n-pretty clean vocals hasn't dulled their brutal edge at all. He's perfectly willing to bide his time for the next round of blood-curdling histrionics. Majestic and crushing, mournful and melancholy, Amenra continues their ascent. (Neurot | Bandcamp)

11. Bereft - Lands Madison's own Bereft knock it out of the park on their second record (and first for Prosthetic). The blackened post-metal of their earlier material is mostly gone here, instead replaced by soaring atmospheric doom. The quartet milk as much mileage as possible out of the interplay between the two vocalists (sometimes hoarse scream, sometimes plaintive incantation). The bruising slabs of down-tuned riffs threaten to swallow voices and strangle guitar melodies. In the end though it's these atmospheric elements and a deft sense melody that elevate Bereft over their low-n-slow brethren. (Prosthetic | Bandcamp)

10. Lardo - Sinking If I didn't tell you Lardo was from Chicago, I'm pretty sure you'd be able tell anyhow. Lardo plays slashing and angular noise rock that will sound familiar to anyone who's ever heard Shellac. Like that band, vocalist Nick Minor delivers matter-of-fact sarcasm about the banal. Musically, they're anchored by a bit-crushed, synthy guitar sound that, on paper, should become really annoying really fast. The fact that it doesn't is a testament to the razor-sharp and inventive playing and laconic songwriting. As stylistically indebted as it is, Sinking still manages to step out from under the shadows and forge its own identity. (Alliterative Accord | Bandcamp)

9. Brutus - Burst This slippery noiserock outfit from Belgium is fronted by a woman with some ungodly pipes -- in fact, I’m constantly bewildered by her power. The tightly wound post-hardcore compositions are ear worms drilling directly into your brain. Add to that a vocalist more powerful even than Julie Christmas and you've got honest-to-gosh, fist-in-the-air anthem material. Burst is spine-tingling in its soaring majesty. (Sargent House | Bandcamp)

8. Human Future - Flat Earth Blues Apparently this London post-hardcore band broke up this year, but they've left us with a compelling swan song. This is tough, grandiose, emotionally affecting stuff that gets under the skin. Sure, there are other bands working in this same general area (Less Art, Self Defense Family, La Dispute), but Human Future's take is decidedly more bombastically rock (rawk?) -- at turns muscular and atmospheric, replete with guitar solos and proggy, psychedelic spaciness. (Truthseeker Music | Bandcamp)

7. Rainer Maria - S/T Ten years after we last heard from them, OG emo kids Rainer Maria are back. And it's a refreshing return to form. This "comeback" record is tougher, louder, and noisier then they've been since their first record. Kaia Fischer's guitar lines are as inventive as ever and Caithlin De Marrais' vocals still channel both emotional turmoil and ennui. Maturity hasn't dulled their edge, if anything they've honed their craft in a way only seasoned musicians and road dogs can hope to do. The amped up aggression and forward propulsion of their new-found joy of playing together again is tempered by well-considered studio experimentation and atmosphere. This is no nostalgia act. This is thoughtful people making vital music. (Polyvinyl | Bandcamp)

6. The Kraken Quartet - Separate | Migrate A quartet of four percussionists might sound like a recipe for disaster, but throw in some electronics and some top-notch playing and compositions and it turns into a post-rock tour de force. This is the record Tortoise should have been making for the last ten years. Richly immersive and percussive (duh), Separate is modern jazz for the post-rock crowd. It's compelling and spellbinding and deserves a much wider audience than it’s likely to get. (Hand Drawn | Bandcamp)

5. Oxbow - Thin Black Duke After a ten-year hiatus, the shape-shifting, iconoclastic Oxbow is back. Eugene Robinson whispers, growls, spits, wails, moans, shouts, and proselytizes over noise-rock filtered through a vaudevillian film score. Sometimes it's muscular and angular and other times it's lush and spooky. It's always uncompromising and beguiling. By the end of the record you may wonder what you heard, but you'll listen again either way. It may feel mostly subdued, but there's real menace beneath the all the layers; like you're poking a rabid bear just coming out of hibernation -- a bit foggy, but intensely hungry and unwilling to take shit from anyone. (Hydra Head | Bandcamp)

4. Less Art - Strangled Light Emotional and arty noise-rock cum hardcore is certainly not what one would expect from members of Kowloon Walled City, Tigon, and Curl Up And Die, but here we are. While Less Art often recalls a kinder, gentler Botch, there's loads of mile-wide riffs and almost-calms that do indeed reference KWC. Mike Minnick's laconic, world weary, sing-speak vocals are the centerpiece, anchoring the serpentine arrangements. These songs heave and writhe, sometimes lashing out, sometimes turning to introspection -- but there's always desperation, anger, and resignation. Strangled Light is a ferocious and formidable debut from lifers who know exactly what they're doing. Here's hoping they tour. (Gilead Media | Bandcamp)

3. Vanum - Burning Arrow This version of black metal is probably trve enough for the kvlt kids, but there's more to it than that. Burning Arrow is triumphant and processional, uplifting despite its claustrophobic maelstrom of blast beats, tremolo picking, and throat torture. The majesty and melancholy take on a narrative quality pulling you along to the next twist in the road. It's hard to explain without resorting to some bullshit sword-vs-sorcery trope, but fuck it... Your're on a journey towards victory. On the battle field you raise your fist in the air, heart swelling as you watch your enemies vanquished. Powerful and uncompromising stuff. (Psychic Violence | Bandcamp)

2. Big|Brave - Ardor Lazy description: Nadja fronted by Bjork. That's not wrong but there are more layers. Glacially paced doom/drone with hiccupy little girl squeals? That's not exactly it either. Crushing, mantra-like riffs à la My Disco with sweet-yet-exotic female vocals à la Blonde Redhead? Hmmm... not quite. A swirling mass of Swans-like noise underpinning Julie Christmas? Fuck it. It's brilliant. (Southern Lord | Bandcamp)

1. Aviator - Loneliness Leaves The Light On For Me I'm a sucker for emotionally wrenching, angularly mathy post-hardcore. This Boston five piece will immediately call to mind La Dispute or mewithoutYou but they're definitely not plagiarists. Hoarse, world-weary vocals are propelled by razor sharp riffs that never fail to tug at my heart strings. It's catchy, frantic, smart, and propulsive. Makes me punch my fist in the air, want to get in the pit, and long for my youth. (No Sleep | Bandcamp)

Other Stuff Other stuff that didn’t make the list, but that I listened to a lot this year.

Breag Naofa - Cearo (self-released) Blackened post-doom from Seattle

BRZRKRZ - Fever Dream Kitchen (self-released) Electronic atmospheric beats for the lounge at the end of the unvierse

Buzzooko - Giza (Retrovox) Giddy Italian Jesus Lizard-worship.

Chavez - Cockfighters (Matador) The influential arty indie band releases a three-song single after 20 years of activity. But come on! Only three songs and no tour plans?!?

Goddamned Animals - My Second Cult Suicide (self-released) Noisy Portland post-hardcore straddling the line between These Arms Are Snakes and San Diego chaotic hardcore.

Heaven In Her Arms - White Halo (Moment Of Collapse) Japanese Envy worship with lots of guitar solos.

Lotus Ash - The Evening Redness (self-released) Doomy sludge or is it sludgy doom? From Milwaukee.

Loyalists - Ride the Trashheap of Sound (self-released) Weird and arty noise-rock from Oakland.

M. Martin - A Harvest of Ice (Rare Plant) Gothy and apocalyptic collection of songs from Coordinated Suicides main man.

Monotrope - Unifying Receiver (New Atlantis) Complex instrumental noisy math rock.

New Cowboy Builders - Used Future (self-released) Final recordings form the Welsh band that is equal parts Fall and Big Black.

Often The Thinker - Better Part of Vice (self-released) Superb 2016 release from this far-flung post-rock collective. Lush arrangements and stellar playing.

Sannhet - So Numb (Profound Lore) The NYC blackgaze band has succumbed to the dark side of shoegaze -- barely a blast beat to be found.

Throane - Plus Une Main A Mordre (Debemur Morti) Claustrophobic blackened doom from France.

Underhand - Roman Numeral One (self-released) Muscular instrumental post-rock from Chicago.

UT - δ γ ε β (Taxi Driver) Chaotic Italian noiserock. Equal parts Blood Brothers and Slint.

Wailin’ Storms - Sick City (Antena Krzyku) Gothy noiserock from Durham NC. I hear loads of Echo and Bunnymen.

When Icarus Falls - Resilience (Czar Of Crickets) Mathy Swiss post-metal. Lots of Cult of Luna-worship.

Chelsea Wolfe - Hiss Spun (Sargent House) Another electro-goth outing from the mysterious chanteuse.

#best-of #review #noiserock #Black-gaze #post-metal #post-rock #electronic #Self-Released #black metal

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photosofusly · 7 years ago

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Exclaim!'s Top 29 Albums of 2017 So Far

As originally seen on Exclaim.ca.At this point last year, we’d already experienced massive album drops from the likes of Beyoncé, Kanye West, Radiohead, David Bowie and Drake; by the end of the year, we were left wondering just what was left to come out in 2017.

The answer is a swathe of albums by artists whose names might not adorn stadium marquees, but whose work shone brightly as beacons for another good year in music. Between long-awaited debut full-lengths, worldly, philosophical album statements and surprising genre crossovers, 2017 has seen a wealth of riches.

As the year’s halfway mark approaches, we’ve separated the great from the merely good in order to present the best albums released so far this year.

Click next to read through the albums one by one, or use the list below to skip ahead to your favourites.

Exclaim!’s Top 29 Albums of 2017 So Far:

1. Kendrick Lamar – DAMN. 2. Sampha – Process 3. Feist – Pleasure 4. Father John Misty – Pure Comedy 5. Mount Eerie – A Crow Looked at Me 6. Drake – More Life 7. Jay Som – Everybody Works 8. Mac DeMarco – This Old Dog 9. Joey Bada$$ – All-Amerikkkan Bada$$ 10. Slowdive – Slowdive 11. Power Trip – Nightmare Logic 12. The xx – I See You 13. Run the Jewels – Run the Jewels 3 14. Thundercat – Drunk 15. Oddisee – The Iceberg 16. Code Orange – Forever 17. Kelly Lee Owens – Kelly Lee Owens 18. Full of Hell – Trumpeting Ecstasy 19. Cloud Nothings – Life Without Sound 20. Stormzy – Gang Signs & Prayer 21. Do Make Say Think – Stubborn Persistent Illusions 22. Incendiary – Thousand Mile Stare 23. King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard – Flying Microtonal Banana 24. (Sandy) Alex G – Rocket 25. Future Islands – The Far Field 26. Timber Timbre – Sincerely, Future Pollution 27. GAS – Narkopop 28. Paramore – After Laughter 29. Ryuichi Sakamoto – async

29. Ryuichi Sakamoto async (Milan)

A good deal has been made of the possibly autobiographical nature of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s triumphant return, async. The disc landed a little less than three years after his throat cancer diagnosis, and is replete with mournful synth lines, scratchy noise (if ever there was a track that made you want to clear your throat, it’s “andata") and spoken word segments about mortality.

There’s much more than nostalgia at work here, though. The 65-year-old, who calls both Tokyo and New York City home, delivered us a complex, at times difficult listen. Yet async remains wholly accessible. It’s beautiful without being pretty, engaging and, at the same time, comforting.

Is the disc’s title short for asynchronous, which refers to events "not occurring at the same time"? Maybe reading his illness and subsequent recovery into that is a stretch, but Sakamoto’s pre-release materials describe his interest in "the blurred lines of life and artificiality/noise and music." The line between good and poor health is often similarly tough to distinguish, but its exploration would fit perfectly amidst the tender thoughtfulness evident here. Kevin Press

28. Paramore After Laughter (Fueled By Ramen)

Paramore have gone through their share of professional and personal turmoil and lineup changes since their chart-topping self-titled LP. Bassist Jeremy Davis left, drummer Zac Farro returned seven years after an acrimonious split and singer Hayley Williams admitted in pre-release interviews that she often doubted they would ever record another album. The trio address this adversity head-on on the startling, emotionally complex After Laughter, a tuneful, effervescent full-length on which Paramore mostly trade what was left of their punk and emo roots for New Wave synths, sinewy Afrobeat-influenced guitar riffs and percussive Technicolor pop that evokes Talking Heads, Paul Simon and Tango in the Night-era Fleetwood Mac.

In contrast with the soaring, ebullient melodies, the lyrics reflect the band’s tumultuous recent past, most prominently on the LP’s first single, the cathartic "Hard Times." Hitting rock bottom has rarely sounded better than on After Laughter, one of the year’s finest pop albums. Thierry Côté

27. GAS Narkopop (Kompakt)

Wolfgang Voigt has kept busy over the last 17 years through his various projects, but he’s been neglecting the one that earns him the most attention. Capitalizing on last year’s elaborate GAS box set, the 56-year-old returned with his fifth album under the moniker like no time had passed.

His new 75-minute opus, Narkopop, surveys different moods and pulses, filling in the vast space with a range of textures and styles: drone, ambient, neo-classical and minimal techno. The results can be mesmeric and beautiful, though he’s not averse to stirring up discomfiting moments to throw the listener’s meditation off, either.

Although it follows the GAS template in its design and structure, Narkopop, like its predecessors, is very much its own entity and an exciting next phase in the oeuvre of electronic music’s most intriguing characters. Cam Lindsay

26. Timber Timbre Sincerely, Future Pollution (Arts & Crafts)

The sinister synths that flood Timber Timbre’s sixth LP leave little doubt that the Canadian band’s latest record, Sincerely, Future Pollution, isn’t entirely optimistic about humanity’s course. The free-floating folk-noir ensemble, led by the haunting vocals of Taylor Kirk, reach new vibrancy on this record by harkening back to ’80s-era Bowie, drum machines and dystopian narratives to create an album that, like Pink Floyd’s The Wall, comprises a cinematic whole yet is approachable enough to enjoy in individual parts.

Evidenced by the cascading melodies of "Moment," the wide-swath guitar strums of "Sewer Blues" and the clavinet-bumping "Grifting," Sincerely, Future Pollution is much more concerned with world-building than 2014’s sensuous Hot Dreams in both theme and vision. As they have each release since 2006’s Cedar Shakes, Timber Timbre somehow manage to enhance their ever-evolving sound once again here; this time, they do so by borrowing from the past to craft an album as fresh as it is timeless. Mackenzie Herd

25. Future Islands The Far Field (4AD)

Less immediate than 2014’s Singles but ultimately more rewarding, the hooks on Future Islands’ The Far Field are subtler, the sound a little wearier. Anchored by the soulful, strange vocal stylings of Samuel T. Herring, the band still know how to write songs that will sound great at the outdoor festivals they’ve graduated to since the smash success of "Seasons (Waiting on You)" — and there are several of those here — but the real revelation is the bold steps they’re taking in the face of their success.

The woozy, weird "Candles" and the call-and-response Debbie Harry duet "Shadows" are proof that the band aren’t content to play it safe. By resisting the urge to go bigger, Future Islands have instead gone deeper, to devastating effect. Dave Mix

24. (Sandy) Alex G Rocket (Domino)

Eight albums in, the restless Alex Giannascoli — aka (Sandy) Alex G — refuses to be labeled simply as "indie rock." On Rocket, he tackles it all — bittersweet alt-country ("Bobby"), industrial pseudo-rap ("Brick"), auto-tuned R&B ("Sportstar"), weirdo psych-pop ("Witch"), ramshackle experimental noise ("Horse"), and the list could go on — yet it all still feels oddly cohesive, shrouded in a mysterious lo-fi intimacy narrated by Giannascoli’s melodic and dazed vocal style.

Hints of self-doubt, anger, sarcasm and bliss blend together effortlessly thanks to a strange and freaky concoction of plucky acoustic guitar, screeching synthesizers, dazzling violin, piano, saxophone and even random dogs barking. Rocket readily mutates around unsettling emotions using inventive fictional personas; it’s a curious approach, but it grounds the record to a quietly relatable content, and incites new feelings with each listen. Chris Gee

23. King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard Flying Microtonal Banana (ATO)

Like most of their previous efforts, King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard’s latest project was tied to a concept from the outset — this time around, microtonality.

Flying Microtonal Banana might be the band’s most ambitious concept album so far, using a collection of microtonal instruments to weave unique melodies and Eastern-flavoured harmonies into the band’s usual frenetic grooves. That experimentation shines on tracks like "Open Water," with riffs that sound like an electrified snake-charmer, and "Billabong Valley," on which lead guitarist and singer Stu Mackenzie’s vocal lines mirror the eerie and hypnotic guitar melodies.

Rather than allowing themselves to be boxed in on Banana, though, the band run wild with the concept, transcending the chromatic scale to pull together one of the best psych-rock experiences of the year. Brandon Choghri

22. Incendiary Thousand Mile Stare (Closed Casket Activities)

Incendiary’s Thousand Mile Stare is a blistering return for the Long Island hardcore outfit. In the four years since their last record, Cost of Living, the music industry has seen some dramatic changes, particularly in relation to the current political climate. With these ten tracks, Incendiary prove that not only are they still relevant, but they’re on the forefront of their scene, leaders in an increasingly anxiety-ridden landscape.

The album’s eye-opening lyrics and gut-busting riffs are perfectly exemplified in "Front Toward Enemy," as frontman Brendan Garrone yells about "Fearing revolution": "They got their trigger fingers moving / The threat of oncoming war." Thousand Mile Stare’s unforgiving interpretation of a genre the band helped build, coupled with the passionate message they continue to spew, help make it one of hardcore’s most important release of 2017 thus far. Griffin Elliot

21. Do Make Say Think Stubborn Persistent Illusions (Constellation)

Do Make Say Think have never made a weak album, but nobody expected the legendary Torontonian instrumental octet to come back with such vital urgency after the longest recording gap in their lifespan. Perhaps it should’ve been clear though — they declare literal "War on Torpor" on Stubborn Persistent Illusions’ opening track. And to back the claim, this music is anything but lethargic or mentally lazy.

Everything we love about the band is present — the brash energy of punk rock, the rhythmic complexity of jazz and Afrobeat, the patient, bold dynamics of classical, and those epic, richly interwoven tapestries of guitar melodies and horn harmonies — but while these pieces share obvious genetic material with the band’s best work, none of it feels like an exercise in cloning. It’s like new sonic lifeforms are evolving from the band’s collective primordial soup to populate heretofore unexplored corners of their distinct sound world.

Beautifully realized with the utmost of love and respect for the act of co-creation and a work that may well be the new high water mark in post-rock, Stubborn Persistent Illusions is an absolute gift to fans of the ineffable magic of musical collaboration. Scott Gray

20. Stormzy Gang Signs & Prayer (#Merky)

For a decade-and-a-half, future-minded hip-hop heads and Anglophiles alike wondered how to get grime over to North American audiences. In the last two years, it’s finally happened, thanks in no small part to Skepta. But while he may have been the one to open the door, absurdly tall South London MC Stormzy has burst through it with enough force to remove hinge from frame.

On Gang Signs & Prayer, Stormzy serves up a perfect blend of crisp, rapid-fire delivery, aggro battle rap, heartbreaking introspection and surprising R&B sensibility. Stormzy is a perfect poster child for the new wave of clever, pop-savvy grime MCs. Chris Dart

19. Cloud Nothings Life Without Sound (Carpark)

Almost every year, an album is released that immediately stands out from the punk-leaning, guitar-slinging pack. It was Beach Slang a couple years ago, and now it’s Cloud Nothings’ turn with Life Without Sound, a record that sheds any of the extraneous influence of the past and find the band at their most cohesive and emotionally resonant yet.

The shift in sound from previous LP Here and Nowhere Else is noticeable. The guitars are a little less ragged, the hooks maybe not as prominent, but while the intensity has been dialled back, it ends up refocusing the group’s vision, and elevates Cloud Nothings’ sound to the next level. Marked by themes of self-evaluation, isolation and desperation, Dylan Baldi’s lyrics feel relatable, without being cliché. Those moments where Baldi’s emotionally driven lyrics hit hardest seem perfectly balanced against the band’s momentous riffs, which burst from every angle out of the speakers feeling alive and purposeful. Anthony Augustine

18. Full of Hell Trumpeting Ecstasy (Profound Lore)

Following a pair of collaborative albums with experimental noise artists the Body and Merzbow, Full of Hell stripped away a lot of the chaotic noise elements found on those releases for a more focused and cohesive record. In just a little over 20 minutes, Trumpeting Ecstasy finds the grindcore powerhouses launching a savage assault of blast beats and ear-piercing shrieks with just enough variation to let each song stand on its own.

Throughout, the band manage to infuse their abrasive tracks and organized havoc with thoughtfulness and care, as evident on songs like "The Cosmic Vein" and the blisteringly fast onslaught of "Branches of Yew." And though they’ve dialled back the experimental noise here, the band still manage to fit those sounds into the delicate yet aggressive title track. Trumpeting Ecstasy is a slab of viciously hostile grindcore not meant for the faint of heart. Joe Smith-Engelhardt

17. Kelly Lee Owens Kelly Lee Owens (Smalltown Supersound)

Within its few seconds, Kelly Lee Owens’s self-titled debut evokes the familiarity of an old favourite. Her spacious, pop-inflected techno is both vivid and economical, wringing nuanced emotions from simple elements. "S.O" and "Lucid" show the patience of a seasoned pro, enchanting listeners with cozy ambience before introducing a beat, while "C.B.M." and "8" go straight for the throat, showcasing thumping bass and mind-bending drone, respectively.

Owens’ concise, focused lyrics feel naturally expressive, as soothing as a well-worn mantra. Yet she refuses to coddle her listeners, and both "Anxi." and "Throwing Lines" hint at internal discord without breaking the record’s placid surface. Kelly Lee Owens is as invigorating as it is inviting, and it only gets more welcoming with each repeated rotation. Matthew Blenkarn

16. Code Orange Forever (Roadrunner)

Leading up to the release of Forever, Code Orange’s third full-length album, many questions orbited the band and their future: Would the shift from Deathwish Inc. to Roadrunner Records dilute their unrelenting sound? Would Code Orange’s loyalty to producer Kurt Ballou begin to yield stagnant and predictable results? Having demonstrated much promise in the past, but never fully delivering on their potential, Forever had to be the band’s best effort yet.

Code Orange answered by punishing all scepticism with nauseatingly visceral riffs, behemoth breakdowns, jarring passages and concussion-inducing percussion. Forever is the band’s heaviest and most menacing album to date, while offering the most diversity, too. Having been released only two weeks into the year, the record will face much competition in the battle for 2017’s best heavy record, but it’s inarguably in the conversation; this shit is thoroughly, aggressively good. Lukas Wojcicki

15. Oddisee The Iceberg (Mello Music Group)

It’s an understatement to say that many of 2017’s headlines have inspired cultural malaise. But, as usual, tense political climates have led to some seriously reflective music. And Oddisee’s latest project, The Iceberg, recently joined the highest echelon of socially conscious rap albums.

The 12-track LP delivers a healthy dose of social commentary, discussing police brutality, immigration, gender inequality and, of course, Donald Trump’s presidency. In such an unpredictable era, an album like The Iceberg helps listeners make sense of the world while also disseminating an important message: You’re not alone.

But storytelling is only part of the battle when putting together a masterful rap project, and like only a handful of other hip-hop artists, Oddisee produces his own beats. Throughout The Iceberg, the 32-year-old pushes the boundaries of the genre by layering unorthodox instrumentation with dense synths and prominent percussion. Imagine a hip-hop track guided by an organ; Oddisee did, and he made it sound dope. Anya Zoledziowski

14. Thundercat Drunk (Brainfeeder)

Like a wild night out featuring several shots of tequila, Drunk is zany and random, an immensely entertaining journey through Thundercat’s colourful mind.

A blend of angelic vocals, quirky lyrics ("I think I left my wallet at the club," he croons) and dizzying bass lines that defy human logic, Drunk has anthems for every variation of inebriation. There’s the fun and fidgety "Tokyo" for the restless drunk, "Drink Dat" for the flirty lush among you and "Lava Lamp" for the more sombre imbiber. "Friend Zone" plays like the gratifying tipsy text you’ll later regret sending, while "Jethro" feels communal and deeply spiritual, like a heart-to-heart between two buzzed strangers at the bar. Featuring clever, full-bodied production from collaborators like Flying Lotus and Soundwave, Drunk is great at first and gets even richer over time, a merry indulgence without the hangover. A. Harmony

13. Run the Jewels Run the Jewels 3 (Independent)

The political ire of nonconformists El-P and Killer Mike has long been at the forefront of their music, and the same can be said of their latest, Run the Jewels 3, a finely executed confrontation of the ruling class and a perfect closer for their album trilogy.

On top of its gorgeous, hard-hitting production, RTJ3 features help from an impressive list of collaborators including Danny Brown, BOOTS, Trina and Kamasi Washington. Run the Jewels have crafted a sound and style that stands alone, and here, it’s sharpened enough to go for the throat. The duo’s ingenuity is recognizable almost immediately, and impossible to duplicate. If their first two records laid the groundwork for battle, RTJ3 finds the rap iconoclasts in the thick of it. Ashley Hampson

12. The xx I See You (Young Turks)

It seems almost contradictory to say that the xx expanding their sound could make their material more intimate — especially given the way they already wore their emotions on their sleeves — but that’s exactly the case with their third album, I See You.

On their first two records, the band matched lovelorn confessions with spare, reverb-heavy guitars, distant drums and the hushed vocal deliveries of Oliver Sim and Romy Madley Croft. This time around, producer Jamie Smith, fresh off his excellent solo record In Colour, infused the record with his signature sample-driven production style, adding a whole new level of character to the band’s signature sound without distracting from the emotional heft of the songs. The record is easily the band’s most ambitious, but also their most rewarding, featuring gems like Madley Croft’s heartbreaking vocals on "Performance" and the danceable "I Dare You."

Their sound palette has expanded considerably, but so has their conviction as a group, a fact that’s clear from I See You’s beginning to its end. Matt Yuyitung

11. Power Trip Nightmare Logic (Southern Lord)

The "crossover" in crossover thrash is on the continuum of metal to punk, but for Power Trip, there’s a whole other crossover happening — from hardcore underground to metal mainstream. With over 10,000 copies sold, Nightmare Logic is quickly becoming a phenomenon, and with good reason — it’s phenomenal.

While artists worry about a sophomore slump, Power Trip have delivered a sophomore slam dunk, outshining their previous material that is, itself, far from lacklustre. There’s new confidence here: Riley Gale’s powerful snarl is now less reverb-soaked; "Executioner’s Tax (Swing of the Axe)" and the title track manage to turn straight-ahead chugs into memorable, headbangable riffs; and the opening groove of "Soul Sacrifice" and the blaring thrash with which "Firing Squad" comes out of the gates are incredible. And that’s just the first half of the album.

Not since Municipal Waste blew "rethrash" open a decade ago with their penchant for partying has a band had a better shot at bringing thrash back to its one-time glory as one of the world’s biggest heavy genres. Bradley Zorgdrager

10. Slowdive Slowdive (Dead Oceans)

Releasing a record is a tricky proposition for any reunited band, let alone one as monumentally adored as Slowdive. Come back half-cocked and you’ll risk disappointing fans; refrain from making anything new, and you’ll leave listeners (and band members alike) wondering what could have been.

The British shoegazers deftly avoid both possibilities with their latest LP (and first in 22 years), a self-titled album filled with woozy atmospherics, ethereal vocals and reverb-drenched guitars that pack the same wallop as crumbling ice shelves.

Slowdive aren’t exactly reinventing themselves here, but with their core songwriters having spent the last two decades in the understated Mojave 3, and the whole band having toured together since 2014, Slowdive is a lean and impressive set of songs that improves upon what they do best. Hell, it might even be the best album of their career; it’s certainly the most fully realized. Matthew Ritchie

9. Joey Bada$$ All-Amerikkkan Bada$$ (Cinematic Music Group/Pro Era)

Joey Bada$$’s second studio LP, All-Amerikkkan Bada$$, was released early this year, debuting at #5 on the Billboard Hot 200. It marked a departure from his debut album; where that record served more as a showcase of his wordplay and an homage to the golden era of hip-hop, this time around, Joey packed his 12-song project with scorching political commentary that aimed to draw awareness from the younger generation of listeners that have come to hold the 22-year-old rapper in high regard.

Alongside releasing political-minded singles "Devastated" and "Land of the Free," Joey claimed that "I was put here on this Earth not only to inspire but to wake people up" in the lead-up to AAB’s release. Having heard its entirety, that makes sense; the album is a defiant assertion of his status as a leader of millennials and a timely collection of (almost) entirely self-produced, anti-establishment anthems Riley Wallace

8. Mac DeMarco This Old Dog (Royal Mountain)

Mac DeMarco, a hero for the kids with his onstage antics and an inspiration to "keep it light" while wearing a pair of seen-better-days red Vans and an equally beatup baseball cap, has become synonymous with goofiness and good times. So when This Old Dog, his third studio album, was announced, it was easy to assume that he’d continue to bring the "jizz jazz" signature sound that he popularized — but he didn’t.

Instead, DeMarco proved to critics and fans alike (likely shocking both a tad) that not only can he pen a great tune, he’s equally capable of bringing the party and pulling at your heartstrings. He’s teased at this sort of softness before, with tracks like "Still Together" from 2 or Salad Days’ "Let My Baby Stay," but This Old Dog’s focuses on sweetly strummed guitars, melodies that provoke nostalgia and lyrics that address love and his estranged father, with a few surprises thrown in (the slinky "On The Level" and bouncy "Baby You’re Out"). It’s a wonderful surprise, and a sweet one, too. Cosette Schulz

7. Jay Som Everybody Works (Polyvinyl)

Melina Duterte has said that her debut album as Jay Som was inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen’s E•MO•TION, a talking point that has reverberated throughout all of her press. True, songs like "Remain" and "One More Time, Please" bear at least some similarity to Jepsen’s more slow-danceable heartbreak anthems, but reducing Everybody Works to this comparison ignores the album’s character and breadth.

"The Bus Song" is an absolutely timeless indie rock sing-along that makes a solid argument for the return of gang vocals, "1 Billion Dogs" is a fuzzed out alterna-banger and "(BedHead)" is ingenious slowcore. The Jepsen comparison is most on-point in that Everybody Works is so perfect that it sounds like it was laboured over by a team of songwriters and hip producers. But it wasn’t — it was recorded by Duterte, alone in her bedroom. Josiah Hughes

6. Drake More Life (Young Money/Cash Money/Republic)

If VIEWS was the angry rebuttable to Drake’s authenticity being challenged, More Life is the realization that introspective and peace-seeking is his most authentic artistic self. While its swollen "playlist" designation allows for a few unnecessary inclusions, the majority of Drake’s tenth full-length project finds him at his absolute finest.

The underlying theme is celebratory, including the sewn-in appraisal for an increasingly varied selection of global influences. For a brief moment a year ago, it looked as if Drake’s unchecked dominance may be coming to an end, a notion that seems ridiculous in retrospect. Emerging as a humble victor suits Drake best, and allows us all to reap the real spoils. Michael J. Warren

5. Mount Eerie A Crow Looked at Me (P.W. Elverum & Sun, Ltd.)

"Death is real."

In the past two decades that Phil Elverum has been singing about mortality, nothing he’s said before has been as hard-hitting, direct and heavy as these three words. Recorded during the months following the death of his wife, Geneviève Castrée, A Crow Looked at Me is a document of Elverum’s thoughts, fears and reality.

But what makes his eighth Mount Eerie LP so compelling is how it stands as an example of peerless art. Elverum couldn’t have been thinking of his fan base, record label or any musical scene while recording these songs; he was creating music out of pure necessity, as the 11 songs featured on this LP are bereft of choruses, bridges or even a proper rhyming structure. A Crow Looked at Me is an album Elverum almost certainly wishes he never had to make, but alas, death is real, and therefore it exists. This resulting meditation on grief is both stark and stunning. Daniel Sylvester

4. Father John Misty Pure Comedy (Sub Pop)

Father John Misty’s all-encompassing Pure Comedy finds Josh Tillman addressing the absurdity of human life, the effect of technology on the way we connect with others and the inherent meaninglessness of being here, but he does it all with shocking affection, in an Elton John-esque guise.

Far from a cynical polemic, Pure Comedy is a monster of a record that is never as hopeless as it may appear. It tries to shine a light on the possibility of a brighter, happier future by pointing out trivialities like the ridiculous weight we ascribe to our online presence ("Ballad of the Dying Man"), or by holding up a mirror to our strange human existence/experiment on its title track.

In its final moments, during "In Twenty Years or So," Tillman drives home just what we can learn from and do with meaninglessness: Find our own meaning. And as he sings, "I look at you as our second drinks arrive / the piano player’s playing ‘This Must Be The Place,’ and it’s a miracle to be alive," it’s clear that beauty and meaning and love are not so hard to find — even in a world that might suggest otherwise. Matt Williams

3. Feist Pleasure (Universal)

Leslie Feist’s first record in over half-a-decade might just be her best. Somewhere between the delicate sophistication of 2007’s The Reminder and the rougher bombast of 2011’s Metals, Pleasure finds Feist at her most dynamic, weaving timbres as seemingly contrary as woodwinds and gain-y blues guitar into songs that swing dramatically from placid to stormy in seconds — and that’s just in the first five minutes of it.

Even at their loudest, these songs are minimal: "I Wish I Didn’t Miss You" climaxes with Feist’s voice wailing through a watery delay effect over just her acoustic guitar; "Any Party" sounds like one when the gang vocals join her and her guitar for the chorus; and the propulsive "Century" is lent almost all of its urgency by a crackling layer of handclaps. They’re simple ingredients, but in Feist’s deft hands, they sound like pure Pleasure. Stephen Carlick

2. Sampha Process (Young Turks)

Though many listeners may have first become acquainted with Sampha through his guest features with Drake or SBTRKT, the UK native has firmly established himself as a solo artist with Process. It isn’t just his buttery tenor that makes his long-awaited debut LP a standout of this year so far, but his talent as both a writer and producer, too.

Drawing on the process of overcoming his mother’s passing and his own personal hurdles in music-making, emotional strength is a thematic constant across the record’s ten tracks, from the percussive drive of piano and drums on "Blood on Me" to the hushed keys and enveloping pads of closer "What Shouldn’t I Be?"

The most powerful moment of Sampha’s Process comes when he strips the electronic wizardry away, though; the breathtaking ballad "(No One Knows Me) Like the Piano" finds him seated at the ivories to lay bare his love for both his mother and music. Calum Slingerland

1. Kendrick Lamar DAMN. (Interscope/Top Dawg Entertainment)

Given music’s subjectivity, and Exclaim!’s long-standing policy of allowing writers to freely express their opinions, our original review of Kendrick Lamar’s latest caused some expected consternation. It’s an album that was praised by some, and fell short for others. After polling the Exclaim! writer’s pool, the overwhelming consensus was that DAMN. is the most beloved album released in 2017 so far.

Over sonically skeletal production, Lamar bares his truths and insecurities, fleshing out the songs with new layers and textures as he dramatizes the various characters he uses to speak on his behalf. He balances societal heartache and ferocious resilience, serving as a mouthpiece to tell the stories of his generation, as well as those before him and after us — and unapologetically, at that. The war chants of "DNA." and the introspective depth of "DUCKWORTH." offer jolting insights into the lives of young black Americans, while the animated "HUMBLE." and daunting "PRIDE." explore the waves of fear and acceptance that come with that day-to-day existence.

Whether you love DAMN. or not, for all that it stands for thematically, you have to admire Lamar for laying it all out on the table. Erin Lowers

View Full Article Here: Exclaim!’s Top 29 Albums of 2017 So Far

Exclaim!’s Top 29 Albums of 2017 So Far was originally published on CALM | We Drive The Calmest, Strive Regardless

#Exclaim!'s Top 29 Albums of 2017 So Far #Hip Hop #CALM #calmmix #calmblog #thecalmest

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tinymixtapes · 7 years ago

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Feature: Red Bull Music Academy Festival New York 2017

Red Bull Music Academy returned to New York this year for yet another well-curated series of performances, lectures, club nights, and workshops. As is tradition now, TMT sent a few writers to cover some of these events, which included a hip-hop piano bar show, Brazilian bass music, a showcase for one of our favorite labels, an interdisciplinary performance piece/meditation, and a couple lectures from two vital artists of our time. --- Solange: An Ode To Photo: Krisanne Johnson / Red Bull Content Pool After the late performance of An Ode To had ended, Solange Knowles took some time to speak to the audience about the piece she had just performed for us, her development as a musician, and the space she had just occupied for her work. Referring to the Guggenheim Museum’s atrium, the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed “temple” that has been home to countless exhibitions and performances of significance, Solange spoke of wanting to “immerse my work in the daylight,” of “having a show where I can see the faces” of the people there to see her. This quality of light was one of the most striking things about Ode: the combination of bright sun from the building’s skylight (both of the show’s performances were scheduled in the afternoon) and flat, even museum lighting gave the work a context that immediately made it something different than just “Solange playing in a museum.” And it was true, you could see everyone’s face in the small crowd that was brought in, dress code and all (those in the audience who did not heed Knowles’s request to dress in all white were few, and easily spottable). This, and the fact that much of those in attendance were seated on the ground just feet away from the band, gave the event an incredible sense of intimacy; in staging and tone, An Ode To felt almost private, a personal work by a young artist both in development and at the top of her game, wildly talented and still growing. This piece was a substantial step in that growth: billed in the program as “an interdisciplinary performance piece and meditation,” Solange took elements from A Seat At The Table and rebuilt them, framing them in new ways — often stripping the arrangements down to their absolute minimum, at others exploding them with a new, startling sense of size. The core band was skeletal, augmented by two backup singers and a recurring cast of dancers and horn players — and though the music was the center of the performance, Solange seemed just as committed to exploring the work physically, leading her ensemble in precise, often beautiful choreography (done in cooperation with dance coordinator Eloise Deluca) and expressive a capella breaks that were, more than just a compliment to the songwriting, as much a piece of the work as her music. Photo: Stacy Kranitz / Red Bull Content Pool At times it felt like Solange was ripping open her album and re-examining it on a microscopic level, and the evening’s trajectory from its hauntingly minimal opening numbers to the explosion of feeling in her dual performances of “Don’t Touch My Hair” and “FUBU” (through which Solange walked through the crowd to sing directly to those gathered, causing at least one man she approached during the show I attended to have a complete ‘Oh my fucking god solange is standing right next to me’ meltdown — one of the few instances where the close-quarters of the room served to amplify the singer’s goddess status) felt like an investigation of what exactly the limits of this music were. Embracing the atrium as a necessary component of the performance — having her players descend down the ramp to the performance area, hiding her horn section under its walls, or more concretely using the chamber’s space to amplify the echo of basslines, solitary snare hits, or the complex three-part vocal breaks, almost dub-like in their hugeness — Solange built something site-specific and yet with resonances beyond this set of concerts. This, and Solange’s ability to fill the historically white space — figuratively and literally — of the Guggenheim with persons of colors (whether her entirely black and brown band or the vast majority of those in attendance) resonated as both an assertion of Solange’s power, and the ability for change within music to ripple out as broader, Earthly changes, and in some way an echo of the work’s broader exploration of expression voiced against its opposite. –Dylan Pasture --- Sacred Bones 10 Year Anniversary Photo: Colin Kerrigan / Red Bull Content Pool Sometimes I want to be devastated. The morning of the Sacred Bones 10 Year Anniversary showcase, I drew the ten of swords. How fitting. One for each year. The ten of swords is about hitting rock bottom and falling apart. Mine depicts a bull stabbed in the head. One sword even pierces the eyes. Usually I read this card as a warning. Get outside your mind before it eats you alive. I know I should have at least tried to be more vigilant. Instead, I turned to my friend and said that it felt perfect for Sacred Bones. What I mean is, I entered Greenpoint Terminal Warehouse thinking about collision. A giant moon hung from the rafters. I became aware of the space as malleable and tried not to understand. I wanted to feel it. Emotionally and viscerally. How else can I describe the experience other than to call it spiritual? Perhaps it has to do with juxtaposition. Like being ripped in half while watching Uniform and again while watching Marissa Nadler. Both strangely meditative. Uniform wrought havoc in the form of relentless noise. Like a vicious cycle indicative of how frustrating and limiting it can feel to live inside a body as the entire world burns. How everything seems impossible, at least everything but clawing up the walls and screaming into a void. Nadler described that void. Glimpsed it and shed light upon the center when she sang, “I can’t go back, I don’t wanna go back, to that house or that life again.” I felt my heart break like a window thrown open in the middle of a storm. Like I was listening alone in my bedroom. Photo: Krisanne Johnson / Red Bull Content Pool I want music to fuck me up and scrape me out and leave me wondering where to go. This is why I love Sacred Bones. Watching The Men play with all of their original members, I thought about how it felt to discover Sacred Bones when I was on the radio in college. I had just begun listening to more dissonant and intense music, and pretty much anything released on Sacred Bones would freak me out. And I loved it. I still love it. Jenny Hval wore black velvet with a hood. She wore a black wig. She said we would all become family through blood ties. She moved through fog. She received a haircut while singing. She snaked her arms around her collaborators. The line between song and manifesto disappeared, which left me considering the body and the idea of ceremony. Magic as political. I had been inhabited and transformed. Part of me was somewhere else. Blanck Mass made the ritual of noise and light so huge that it was like the whole space had been swallowed. Zola Jesus ended the show with kinetics. I mean, pop so shattered and frenzied I felt hypnotized. Oscillating between the cathedral and the rave. Between gothic and cosmic. It was an ideal culmination of the energy swirling all night inside Greenpoint Terminal Warehouse. Like a vibration powered by obsession with darkness and weirdness. I felt a shift inside my body upon leaving. Simply existing was totally different. –Caroline Rayner --- Piano Nights: Gucci Mane and Zaytoven Photo: Krisanne Johnson / Red Bull Content Pool It’s a cliché meme for someone to say “I am the American Dream,” and in an era with such little room for systemic romanticization, such a proclamation is also politically problematic at best. Nevertheless, Gucci Mane is the American Dream. If you’re like me, or any of the numerous other hip-hop devotees who’ve eventually come around to Guwop, the first time you heard him, you couldn’t understand a word he was saying. “Mumble-rap,” as it’s now called today, may be stylistic affectation for some, but there was no such phrase back when Gucci started doing it; probably because not since Rakim had a rapper put so many words together so poetically while sounding so close to falling asleep. In some parallel world, an alternate version of myself would never dare to use Rakim and Gucci’s names in the same sentence, but here we are. Rap is “mumble-rap,” the phrase itself is an anachronism functioning primarily as an age identifier of the writer who writes it, and this 31-year-old writer has watched Gucci Mane perform some of his most popular songs in a swank cocktail bar on the Lower East Side, accompanied by his producer Zaytoven on live piano. Photo: Carys Huws / Red Bull Content Pool Forget arrest records, jail bids, shootings, rap beefs, Twitter meltdowns, Harmony Korine courtings — forget all that, because it’s not what I’m referring to when I say Gucci Mane is the American Dream. I’m not talking about the American Dream of the bootlegger turned politician or the drug dealer turned real estate mogul. I’m not talking about the American Dream of Fitzgerald’s Gatsby or DiCaprio’s. I am talking about the American Dream of American music. Arguably our greatest cultural achievements, jazz, blues, rock, and hip-hop music were all originally perceived as amusical by the critical powers that be and eventually recognized as expressions of “higher art,” whatever that may be. I’m not trying to absolve myself here. When I first heard Gucci Mane, I might not have gone so far as to say it wasn’t hip-hop, but I definitely didn’t hear what others heard, simply because I had never heard anyone rap like that before. I literally didn’t understand what he was saying. I can only speak for myself , but I’ve personally witnessed yesterday’s proto-“mumble-rap” become today’s instantly sold-out black-tie affair of the millennium — dress code for the event called for attendees to wear their “finest formal wear” — and as far as I’m concerned that’s the American Dream. –Samuel Diamond --- A Conversation with Alvin Lucier Photo: Krisanne Johnson / Red Bull Content Pool Perhaps the best story told at Alvin Lucier’s intimate gathering in the basement of Red Bull Arts was his response to the question of what, if any, recent versions of his legendary work “I Am Sitting In A Room” have been most meaningful to him. As Lucier described it, after a concert performance of the piece at MIT, a 10-year-old boy came up to the man and declared: “That’s cool!” The boy then later went home and recorded his own version of the work on his laptop and emailed it to the legendary composer. This, Lucier said, was a version he liked a lot. Watching Lucier speak, it seems much of what gives life to his work — even at its most conceptually adventurous — is this very down-to-Earthness, an embrace of the everyday, the generosity of spirit and lack of pretense that allows the experiments of a child to stand alongside that of a “legitimate” performance venue. Elsewhere, Lucier explained that he wrote his own text for Sitting in lieu of adapting a poem because he didn’t want to use anything “high falutin’.” Though possessed with perhaps one of the most refined imaginations in experimental composition, he insisted that he was uninterested in “theory.” In Lucier’s words: “My decisions are real.” Through a life-spanning conversation moderated by Red Bull’s Todd L. Burns, Lucier returned to this theme in many forms. When discussing his coursework as a Professor (preserved, in some form, in his text Music 109) he spoke of trying to “demystify” music for his students, of telling them he was not interested in their opinions, but in their “perceptions.” And as he dove into his own use of perception in his work — whether in using the echolocation of bats as a reference for his use of delay, or how his refracted Beatles arrangement “Nothing Is Real” was meant to capture the sense of remembering “where you were when you heard a song for the first time” — one had the feeling of an artist trying to demystify the senses for himself, grounding the mysterious in something sturdy and real. Evocatively describing how those bats use sound to travel in the dark, Lucier slipped us a kind of statement of purpose: “You can’t cheat if you’re trying to survive.” Threaded through these discussions of technique were lovely anecdotes of the artist’s large and impressive circle of acquaintances, dishing on everyone from John Ashbery and Nam June Paik to Morton Feldman and, of course, John Cage, who was revealed to have apparently inspired (and/or peer-pressured) the first performance of Lucier’s brain-wave piece “Music For Solo Performer” into existence. Though anecdotally anchoring himself among many of the greats of 20th century art, Lucier left the intimate group gathered to listen to him on an appropriately humble, un-elevated note. When asked by an audience member if music had a “spiritual meaning” for him, he answered, simply: “No.” –Dylan Pasture --- Fluxo: Funk Proibidão Photo: Krisanne Johnson / Red Bull Content Pool This year’s Red Bull Music Academy takeover of NYC began with the announcement that MC Bin Laden, the headliner for the inaugural evening’s Brazilian bass event, would not be able to perform for reasons out of his and the festival organizers’ control. I found out from a friend that this meant he’d been denied entry at the US border, presumably an exercise of ideological power by immigration officials. RBMA itself embodies corporate accumulation of cultural capital, a late phenomenon toward which discerning ravers maintain a healthy ambivalence, suspended between cynicism and the notion that maybe, particularly if the artists can gain control of it, this type of power could be better than the kind that preceded it. The announcement, emailed via the ticketing agent the day of the event, brought a latent global power strata to the fore that framed the event: the admittedly neoliberal post-nation-state RMBA agenda versus the utterances of the deep-state monolith, which you only find out about through texts from a friend who knows a friend of someone who was at the border. And so RBMA NYC 2017 began. Even with MC Bin Laden not present, though, the Fluxo event was stacked with a formidable range of Brazilian bass DJs and emcees, strung together under the banner of maximalist sonic valence with NYC party mainstays Venus X and Asmara, Detroit ghetto house forbearer DJ Assault and the indefinable entity that is Chicago’s Sicko Mobb, who themselves are Red Bull-sponsored artists. Photo: Krisanne Johnson / Red Bull Content Pool After being encouraged by the coterie of Red Bull chaperones near to the door to enjoy my evening, I entered the venue to find Sicko Mobb bobbing and jack-balling amidst one another on stage, Ceno wearing a bright red T-shirt with “BALMAIN POWER” printed in shiny bold Impact font across the front. My friend and I quickly situated ourselves behind a car whose interior was rigged with overzealous strobe lights, one of several props situated throughout the venue that upon reviewing the event literature I realized was intended to be a simulation of “the neon-lit car stereos lining the local block parties [in the favelas of Brazil] known as fluxos.” Despite being obfuscated by a thick wall of smoke-and-strobe that would give Dean Blunt a run for his money, Lil Trav and Ceno breezed through a seemingly arbitrary selection of their metallic, sweet-sad bop songs, still a sound without any real parallels in hip-hop: “Own Lane” and “Go Plug” from the Super Saiyan Vol. 2 mixtape, throwbacks like “Fiesta,” “Hoes Be Goin’,” and “Round and Round.” In lieu of a DJ, an associate played tracks from an iPhone, and following in the tradition of cutting songs short he simply stopped the playback at random points, the music giving way to the sound of smoke and low chatter in the absence of DJ wheel-up sounds. DJ Assault took the stage shortly thereafter, living up to his name by starting the set out at a casual 145 bpm and playing “Let Me Bang” almost immediately after getting on stage. The venue was only beginning to fill as he warmed up the crowd, plunging headfirst into the obscene territory of booty music blended together with cumbia and proibidão. Obscenity and disorientation seemed to be forming as obvious mantras seeded by the party organizers as I went into the port-a-potty nested inside the warehouse and found it was resonating on beat with the bass, which only served to highlight that there was no respite from the building disorientation of the space. Venus X and Asmara played the mid-event set, rolling out a hip-hop-heavy set that felt somewhat obligatory to the context of the party, and MC Carol did not take the stage until very late, at which point the crowd was not well-positioned to entertain a set of emceeing. We left and hung out in the park, and talked about the slightly off feeling we were left with, and wondered if it was the party or us who was off. –Nick Henderson --- A Conversation with Werner Herzog On Music and Film Photo: Stacy Kranitz / Red Bull Content Pool [This lecture review is to be read in the voice of preeminent German filmmaker Werner Herzog: I do not care if this offends him or you; it is critical.] I was not sure if I would be able to make it to the lecture on time. As it was being held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in one of the many areas of Manhattan with notoriously limited street parking, I elected to take the Long Island Rail Road, which picked me up directly behind my day job in Garden City. Inevitably late, the train did not leave me enough time to reach the venue via public transportation, and because this would have required that I transfer between multiple subways and a bus, I instead hailed a taxi in front of Penn Station. I knew this meant I would have to pay more, as these cabs are permitted by the City to charge extra for the premium pickup location, but I did not care. I had somewhere I needed to be and no way to get there sooner. Looking at my phone during the 50-block cab ride, I learned President Trump had fired FBI Director James Comey. Also, the publicist facilitating Tiny Mix Tapes’ coverage notified me that the doors were closing. I was dismayed but not altogether discouraged. When I arrived at the event, a discussion with Werner Herzog on music and film, the gentleman admitting ticketholders and press-listees told me the lecture had only started about five minutes ago. My name being confirmed, I proceeded up the museum steps to a dark auditorium where I was ushered to an empty seat not far from my point of entry. I saw erected on the stage a faux living room similar to Zach Galifianakis’s Between Two Ferns set, but more fully furnished, with couches and a film-projector screen hung above and behind them. At stage right, shrouded in cinematic shadow, stood a tall man looking up at the screen. When the film clip ended, the lights came on revealing him to be Herzog. He seated himself on the couch at center stage and spoke with a nebbish film-critic-type about music in films, his and others. He indicated he chooses the music for his films almost exclusively by feeling. He cited Fred Astaire’s dance routines as a prime example of the marriage of music and cinema, though in far less romantic terms. He reminisced about teasing Popol Vuh founder Florian Fricke during a friendly soccer match over his interest in New Age thinking and going home badly bruised for it. He said he hadn’t heard the phrase “krautrock” until just a few days earlier. In the Q&A portion of the event, he found occasion to reassert his argument that Elon Musk is acting foolishly in his pursuit of Martian colonization, that humanity would be better served conserving and protecting its home on Earth. He admitted that though there is no purposeful allusion to so-called spirituality in his films, some of his early religious teachings most likely had a lasting effect on his viewpoint and that he always strives to evoke a sense of poetry with his filmmaking to “elevate” the thinking of his viewers. On my way out, a Red Bull employee offered me a drink from a tray holding multiple colored cans. I took one at random; “Acai Berry”-something, she called it. “Save it for the morning,” she said. Thanking her, I cracked it open and exited to the cultured darkness of New York City’s Upper East Side. –Samuel Diamond http://j.mp/2qxIPYU

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