Welcome to yet another Loosies Of The Week, a wrap-up of this weeks singles, throwaways, leaks, and any other loose tracks I find. A wide range of genres this week, with a well-rounded level of quality. There's sure to be something you enjoy.
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You can imagine mine (and many people's) surprise come Mothers Day morning when Andre 3000, my favorite artist of all-time, released two songs out of the blue. Rather than being the mark of an album rollout, something Three Stacks has been admittedly against in his silent doldrum period since 2006's Idlewild, 'Me&My (To Bury Your Parents)' and 'Look Ma No Hands' instead pay homage to a powerful mother who departed far too soon. Recently, Andre's few interviews have positioned the former Outkast member as - sorry but it's true - an outcast, unable to feel welcomed in a music industry that moved passed him. Considering this is his first solo material in over a decade, excluding the plethora of year-stealing verses, his Mothers Day ode truly represents that isolation and self-induced confinement. 'Me&My' is a noir-bent Piano Blues ballad, 'Look Ma No Hands' an unfiltered, 17-minute Avant-Garde Jazz instrumental. Given the incomparable nature of these two tracks to Andre's musical counterparts, the artist's iconicism has undoubtedly been further established.
The weight of Andre's heart carries each of the tunes, as you can feel that heftiness baring down on the piano keys of 'Me&My' and the bass clarinet of 'Look Ma No Hands.' The former presses down with a burden, as the latter squelches incoherently with misery. Even Andre's vocal performance on 'Me&My' features a slew of slurred speech and untidy memories. It culminates in an excruciating line where Andre's parents fade around him, beginning with "me and my mother, me and my father" before ending with just "me." As for 'Look Ma No Hands,' the lengthy collaboration with James Blake on piano begins in a rationale state, even capturing Andre inadvertently admiring a looped melody occasionally, only to discombobulate as it progresses. For an artistic piece, this degradation is powerful. However, as a musical component, the last half struggles for engagement as Andre's purposely ugly clarinet playing takes over. It reminds me of Sun Ra's more experimental pieces; frayed, jagged, and rough. Combined however, these two songs present a motherly eulogy and a look into the troubled adulthood of a withdrawn man who adores art but can't find the means to express it.
The weight of Andre's heart carries each of the tunes, as you can feel that heftiness baring down on the piano keys of 'Me&My' and the bass clarinet of 'Look Ma No Hands.' The former presses down with a burden, as the latter squelches incoherently with misery. Even Andre's vocal performance on 'Me&My' features a slew of slurred speech and untidy memories. It culminates in an excruciating line where Andre's parents fade around him, beginning with "me and my mother, me and my father" before ending with just "me." As for 'Look Ma No Hands,' the lengthy collaboration with James Blake on piano begins in a rationale state, even capturing Andre inadvertently admiring a looped melody occasionally, only to discombobulate as it progresses. For an artistic piece, this degradation is powerful. However, as a musical component, the last half struggles for engagement as Andre's purposely ugly clarinet playing takes over. It reminds me of Sun Ra's more experimental pieces; frayed, jagged, and rough. Combined however, these two songs present a motherly eulogy and a look into the troubled adulthood of a withdrawn man who adores art but can't find the means to express it.
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The Chromatics' shifting place of relevance is one both frustrating and intriguing, as it's entirely of their own doing. Since releasing Kill For Love in 2012, the group lead by the quiet force Johnny Jewel have failed to follow it up, despite continuous promises met with even more delays. Dear Tommy was formally announced in 2014, and as Stereogum so nonchalantly pointed out; its "been on our Most Anticipated Albums list for 2015, 2016, 2017, and 2018." Most puzzling of all is their continued tantalization, releasing singles throughout, including 'Shadow,' which gained recognition through its magnificent portrayal on Twin Peaks. Whether we trust the boy who cried wolf or not, 'Black Walls,' the new lead single to Dear Tommy, has finally dropped. And it showcases the Chromatics' persistence to quality, as the five-minute procession pours 80's-inspired Synthwave from its creases. Ruth Radelet's vocals are as dreamy as ever, acting as a memory mist that evokes such strong neon nostalgia. It's the production however, which undulates underneath her consistency, that steals the show. At moments, screeching noise billows like Coldwave, drums hop and prance like Dream Pop, and synths flutter in the ambience like Ethereal Wave. The combination of these elements leads to 'Black Walls'' success. Now let's keep this train moving.
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Two weeks ago, Death Grips fans were hit with 'Streaky,' the lead single to Year Of The Snitch, and arguably the first 'meh' moment of the group's entire career. Considering Death Grips' track record for unfathomable lead singles ('Hot Head,' 'Inanimate Sensation,' 'Birds,' 'I've Seen Footage'), the toned down flavor of 'Streaky' - which doesn't sound all that removed from a Bottomless Pit B-Side - worried the masses. 'Black Paint' quells that. Whereas the lead single ran rife with Hip-Hop abberations, 'Black Paint' virtually neglects the genre altogether, resembling the butchered and battered corpse of Jenny Death. Here, as was the case with their Rock-oriented album, electronics become a powerful force veering on the side of combustion, matching Zach Hill's relentless drums and the guitar's farty reverb. The pestering Noise elements are so profuse that, from a distance, one would be remiss for disregarding the song as incoherent disarray. But, as per usual with Death Grips, intangible catchiness bellies under the surface, found both in Ride's battleful vocals and the post-chorus rhythmic sections.
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In 2016, Mitski gained credibility through Indie circles with Puberty 2, an album I'm currently halfway through listening. 'Happy' and 'Dan The Dancer' were more than promising starters, and immediately drew parallels to the group through which I re-discovered Mitski; Xiu Xiu. The two collaborated on the striking and rich 'Between The Breaths,' a strong amalgamation of each of their styles. On 'Geyser,' the first single to Be The Cowboy, Mitski owns her personal space, conjuring up intense, and mostly nondescript emotion, in a sub three-minute window. From the soft, Ambient Pop origins which, in connection with Mitski's visual performance in the music video, draws comparisons to Bjork's latest Utopia, 'Geyser' rapidly blossoms into an Indie Rock powerhouse that borders on the strength of Gothic Rock. That is, until a sweeping string arrangement joins the procession, and emotion becomes even more conflicting. Her pain, as evidenced in the lyrics and visuals, indicates 'Geyser's' torment and agony. Yet those strings, they're so blissful and majestic. She handles that incongruity with flair, although I did hope to see more Noise elements, as one uncontested spark jarringly blares midway through Mitski's opening verse, only to never reappear again.
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Initially I was put off by Anderson .Paak's all-too real portrayal of how money changes successful artists on 'Bubblin.' That was because of .Paak's origins, a low income performer trying to make ends meet alongside members of L.A.'s Hellfyre Club. Flaunting wealth in such an uncharismatic way seemed disappointing, as if .Paak had lost sight of his upbringing. But then I realized 'Bubblin,' and the song's outrageous music video, was satire, much in the same way of J. Cole's 'ATM' or Kendrick Lamar's 'Wesley's Theory.' From a musical perspective, 'Bubblin' might be one of .Paak's most immediate and satisfying singles yet, ironically pushing him further into stardom, and therefore; wealth. While he's most certainly been known as a capable rapper, .Paak tends to rely on his easy, breezy Alternative R&B, which makes his confidence on this swirly Trap offshoot even more impressive. The production, produced by AntMan Wonder & Jahlil Beats, is both extravagant and topsy-turvy, drawing comparisons to Tyler, The Creator's carnival endeavors like 'I Ain't Got Time!' and 'Tamale.'
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You know Hip-Hop has exhausted itself of necessary ad-libs when Kendrick Lamar, on Jay Rock's 'WIN,' literally says "mommy" at one point in the hook. Some reconsideration needs to take place, and soon. That belief might as well extend to Trap's regurgitated beats, which we find crudely overused on 'WIN' as well. The hi-hats are both overplayed and lethargic, and the cruddy horn loop exists with no passion or purpose. If you want to see a successful antithesis to 'WIN,' seek out Big Boi's 'General Patton,' a comparable hype track that excels where 'WIN's' sound does not. Considering not more than a few months ago Lamar and Jay Rock teamed up on the wonderfully vivacious 'King's Dead,' this straight-from-Soundcloud single is a perplexing twist downwards. Nothing here, not the lame and repetitive hook, not Jay Rock's lyrical content, which features vacant and meaningless boast bars, and not the production can save 'WIN' from a quick death.
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