Anohni - Hopelessness
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
Melodramatic martyr and political abridger, perhaps -- but between the curiously sumptuous throat-throwing via emphatic trans protagonist, the 'bama bashin' as we near his term-termination, and the pointed roundup of harrowing happenings heard (and not so heard) 'round the world, let's call it a snide snapshot of cultural currency; a summary of discernible disheartenment as we move closer towards said term-termination and the future at large. Though they certainly don't make for the most insightful of dialogues, the topics alone give it a welcome weightiness; Hudson Mohawke's overzealous boom-bap production finally feels complementary, and together with spacious-glitcher Oneohtrix Point Never they form the kind of damaged electro-epic rushes that are fit for the spectacle of mass animal extermination and the tearful regret of drone-bombs and torture, the could-be hooky pop hits that poke fun at surveillance and highlight the hypocrisy in capital punishment. The album title is telltale: this is no call to arms. She doesn't give a shit what happens to you and don't care 'bout herself much neither, oh and humanity is not only headed for armageddon but rather deserving of its wrath. The sort of rash+direct idealisms we're not worthy of living up to, I s'pose. 8/10
Babyfather - BBF Hosted by DJ Escrow
Cements its satirical snobbery and affinity for experimentation thick-n-quick by hollowing out a sampled British-pride line via a C-or-so's worth of loops; casting the path for "20 bands" and "pour some liquor on my head" as deadpan+bored mantras entwined with baby-cries, casual remarks of "gunshot" and "mad smoke in the studio" during one of the jet-engine noise-hunks and a snuck-in "fuck you mate" in the other, and not-one-but-two reprises of that ol' British-pride line. Primarily it's an extensive slab of hip-hop mockery that places concept, album-flow, and a skittish+squeaked-up narrator on a pedestal far above songs and strain, abstractions/phone calls/icy-drink-clinks more obligatory than bangers/sincerity/significance. Real riveters are there but few and far between, though near-end "The Realness" may take the cake for managing to channel just that: nothin' quite like chattin' bout the entanglements of trusting your crew and mini-reviewing a Cormega album over some solemnity. 6/10
Beyoncé - Lemonade
*******HIGHEST RECS*******
Even if the cheat-centric celeb drama is a contrived embellishment at best and a tricky Tidal-tempter at worst, Bee's got the economically expert voc-cords and 'tude and stylistic melange and thoughtful production to back it up. Make no mistake; dealing with deception and heralding defiance are smell-n-taste tangible throughout, but my what a medley of methods: desolate heartbroken balladry, belligerent frayed-at-the-seams garage rock starring Jack White, a good ol' fashioned hootenanny, reconceptualization of a 13-year old Yeah Yeah Yeahs hook and the reggae horn, an uber-resolute morale-peak climactic triad. Or perhaps from a crasser stance, it's just kinda vivifying to hear a lady this illustrious nonchalantly toss out there that she's gonna fuck her up a bitch and no-bullshit gruntingly exclaim "suck my balls balls". 7.5/10
Chance the Rapper - Coloring Book
Steadfast sustaining the winsome posi-gospel spirit found on his ultra-lit "Ultralight Beam" guest-spot, 'Coloring Book' makes for a more-than-meet titular pick: Chance's agile geniality is markedly illuminating+comforting, the plethora of partakers spanning from Young Thug to the Chicago Children's Choir bears a fete-esque vibrancy, nostalgia and newfound fatherhood permeate throughout, The Lion King gets referenced not-once-but-twice, big guffawing-head hooks and a "don't be mad!" chaff you into givin' in to feelin' good. In true guest-laden lengthy mixtape fashion, it sports its fair share of clutter and inconsistencies; and as addled voice-laden production and unabashed pronouncements of "HOW GREAT IS OUR GOD" tend to do, this goes an iota overboard on the pitch-shifts and pietism. 7/10
dvsn - Sept. 5th
The more I tuned in, the more it wavered -- what was initially despicably drowsy and tepid r&b using syrupy understatements as whitewash turned into gravitating towards a few of the particularly-gratifying hooks became somewhat-smitten with their slo-mo sensual+emotional sincerity, the trap-n-bass-inflected ethereality for beats, and the falsettos qualified at melting heart. "Try / Effortless" at track 3 is when they start to do just that / and make it seem so, "Do It Well" is perhaps when they do it the well-est, "Hallucinations" is a dream on a cloud; on the whole however it heavily recalls the ol' drowsy-n-tepid thing with a dash of cringe to boot. The soulful old-style croon vox intermixed with not-so-old-style propositions are a hoot, too: "fuck with me now" as a come-on, the straight-up proposal that sleeping with him will make her feel better about all his wrongdoings, opting not to pull out but eager to go in+out. Name of the one about being eager to go in+out: "In+Out". 6.5/10
Laura Gibson - Empire Builder
A commendable crew of multifaceted folkies, yes, commendable indeed -- can't say commendable creeps near really-remarkable at any time here, but it does rest rather comfortably in really-quite-pleasant. Starts strong/strongest? with the one-two friendly handshake of "The Cause" and "Damn Sure", but soon after begins to fall into sleep-mode a bit too often. But hey, kudos on the percussive nuances and the percussion in general and the capable lyricism and the striking slow-churn string-swells. The title-track also lives up to its name by building an empire impressive enough to not be eclipsed for the remainder of the album, at song #4 outta 10. But very likable, really. 5.5/10
M83 - Junk
Tempting as it is, I vowed to not use the word 'junk' while describing 'Junk'. Cuz one, a bit easy+evident, and cuz two, this isn't "anything that is regarded as worthless, meaningless, or contemptible; trash." Really. It's pretty much full-time corny and at-times horrendously ho-hum, draggingly tottering from obnox to mopey to quizzical, toting bilingual schmaltz and maladroit vocal pitch-shifts and 'tis overlong to boot, but it's not junk (oops). Gonzalez is just too capable a mood-synth/electro interlayer to not allow some amenities to emanate. As for the schmaltz, I'll take Susanne Sundfor's lass-laced plain ol' sappy ballad over any of the Mai Lan features, the so-called Beck feature, heck most of the remainder; call that a positive or negative. Never made any vows about the cover art, however -- rather relevant, in a way. ~*~meh~*~
Sorority Noise - It Kindly Stopped For Me [EP]
Resolutely depressive pop-punkers deliver a diminutive followup to last year's bipolar vice-and-anxiety-fueled magnum-opus; gutting the punk, the pop, most of the band, and any temperament that's not mournful. The resultant stripped-down hush-fest reads as a wearied breather aftermath from the high-strung oscillations of Joy, Departed; and under the scant guise of principally acoustic plucks+lonesome piano, the palpability of frontman Cameron Boucher's downtrodden despondence is endearing-going-on-excruciating. Begins on what seems like a hopeful fresh-start note, which lasts all of two minutes: then friends die, "A Will" is as funereal as it implies, Boucher drunkenly tramps through the woods and can't bare/bother to keep a tune; poor guy even fucks up his hoodie and rips through his hypothetically black jeans in the process. 7/10
Teen Suicide - It's the Big Joyous Celebration, Let's Stir the Honeypot
Album Title Interpretation: Teen Suicide Suicides Name and Go Out With Big Sprawling Bang. By Big I mean 26 tracks in an eternity-seeming 68 minutes, and by Sprawling I mean winding barrage of sketchy+washed out lo-fi-rock that's charming in its let-it-all-hang-out grandeur but oh so overtly overkill. It's defiantly dense, warmth and melancholy and awkwardness and dollops of psychedelia and incoherence run amuck amid the bedroom acoustics+pianos and choral-cooer lullabies and cozy electronix, doses of fuzz-n-scuzz are fairly forcible and depraved, respectively -- but the ratio of solid standout tunes and seemingly one-off/kinda forgettable inconsequentials is excessively lopsided, and like, not in the good way. And outta this whole ungodly-sized mass, the apex might just be the opener. 5.5/10
Leon Vynehall - Rojus
Ah yes, good deep house that doesn't dip too much into the minimal and strays fruitfully far from the sterile -- oft-optimistic without surrendering its heavy trance-bass-thump and totes a whole boatload-a-busyness without approaching extravagant. Save for the atypical ambient-lean soother intro, the grooves are robust, buildups and tear-downs are judicious as fuck, the soundscape wields melodies-aplenty and voice flashes; but more importantly, percussion-sounds-aplenty and everyday etceteras and voices going ahhhh or woahhhh. Do just about all of 'em go on a wee-bit too long? Do the voices going "your love" and "energy" feel a trace trite? Sure. That parade-through-a-jungle-rave beat at "Kiburu's" tho. 7/10
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