A Look at Ad Libs in Rap | 08
6’6”
6’5”
Gay for Pay | 44
HIP HOP
SOUTH FLORIDA
northeastern students on music
MEMBERS ONLY:
THE INDIVIDUALITY 6’4”
The Fall of the Folk Revival | 34
6’7”
OF
No 48
Get Involved Want to become a Tastemaker? Click get involved on tastemakersmag.com Snapped some awesome photos at a concert? Email them to tastemakersphoto@gmail.com Heard an album that really got you thinking? Send a review to tmreviews@gmail.com
Get More Can’t get enough? Check out more original content on tastemakersmag.com Become a fan on facebook at facebook.com/tastemakersmag Follow us on Twitter at twitter.com/tastemakersmag Follow us on Instagram and add us on Snapchat: @tastemakersmag
Tastemakers Music Magazine 232 Curry Student Center 360 Huntington Ave. Boston, MA 02115 tastemakersmag@gmail.com © 2017 tastemakers music magazine all rights reserved
E-Board
The Team
President David McDevitt
Staff Writers Emily Arntsen Kendall Avenia Allison Bako Spencer Bateman Joseph Bondi Justine Cowan Joey Dussault Isaac Feldberg Reid Flynn Nikolas Greenwald Helen Hennessey Quinton Hubbell Zac Kerwin Jason Levy Raquel Massoud John McGill Joanna Moore Emmett Neidhart Liam Numrich Taylor Piepenbrink Jonas Polin Jake Poulios Seth Queeney Matt Schüler Tanvi Sehgal Craig Short Kelly Subin Christian Triunfo Alex Trzaskowski Jonathan Vayness Alex Wetzel
Editor in Chief Terence Cawley Art Directors Colleen Curtis Madisen Hackley Promotions Director Rami McCarthy
Staff Features Editor Christopher Miller Reviews Editors Tim DiFazio Peter Giunta Interviews Editor Mayeesha Galiba Web Curator Anu Gulati Photo Director Nola Chen Social Media Directors Hannah Crotty Sarah Keneipp
Art & Design Allison Bako Natalie Duerr Brooke Dunahugh Jenny Kang Cammy Kuo Dan Mondschein Bianca Rabbie McKenna Shuster Anna Smith Sara Trosky Carolyn Zhao
Promotions Suki Affatato Stacy Andryshak Ingrid Angulo Jacob Aubertine Sofia Benitez Julia Boll Scott Breece Dash Dell’Imperio Emily Grinberg Emily Harris Helen Hennessey Erin Hensley Katie Isbell Cara Jones Jae Lee Evelyn Liu Navin Mani Laura Masnato Isabella Miele Patrick Milne Taylor Poehlman Kylie Ponce Jane Slaughter Eliana Tallarida Photography Tajwar Ahad Emily Arntsen Amanda Barr Jason Crouse Hannah Drabin Madisen Hackley Jordon Halteman Sebastian Herforth Abigail Manos Elice Ongko Rio Asch Phoenix Shannon Pires Derek Schuster Lauren Scornavacca Nicole Service McKenna Shuster Lydia Tavera
Meet the Staff
About Joseph Bondi Position Staff Writer Major Business Graduating 2018 Favorite Venue Union Transfer, Philadelphia Tastemaker Since Fall 2015
Ingrid Angulo Position Promotions Team Member Major International Affairs/ Economics Graduating 2021 Favorite venue Terminal 5, NYC Tastemaker Since Fall 2016
Joey Dussault Position Lowly Staff Writer (exFearless Leader) Major Journalism Graduating Spring 2017 Favorite venue Davy Jones’ Locker (RIP 2016-2016) Tastemaker Since Fall 2012
Kelly Subin Position Staff Writer Major Marketing and Interactive Media Graduating December 2018 (sorta) Favorite Venue The Sinclair Tastemaker Since Fall 2013
Listening to
Donna Summer “I Feel Love” Roxy Music For Your Pleasure
Quote
“I feel like the layout of this room is very harsh”
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard Flying Microtonal Banana
Tame Impala Lonerism The Strokes Is This It Skaters Manhattan
that dog. “Long Island” Ride Going Blank Again
“I mean all I’m saying is have you ever seen me and Blue Ivy in the same room?”
“Now never speak to me again”
Yucky Duster Duster’s Lament
Turnover Peripheral Vision Summer Salt “Driving to Hawaii” Paris Hilton “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?”
“This school will not let me take Intro to Acting because they do not want me to be a STAR”
Against the Current, Afterhours
Photo by Lauren Scornavacca (Engineering)
Table of Contents Cover Story
Editorial
22
08
Members Only: The Individuality of South Florida Hip Hop
14 38
Show Reviews Run the Jewels, Young the Giant, Colony House, George Clinton & Parliament-Funkadelic
10 20
12
How five different countries have put their own spin on hip hop
34 36
‘90s Bollywood, as told by a Desi Girl
44
Gay for Pay: The Relationship between the Pop Industry and Queer Aesthetics Pop culture has grown to embrace queer aesthetics — but not necessarily queer artists
06
Calendar
28
Local Photos
41
Columbus Ave: Culture Hub turned Campus Corner You may not have realized how close you’ve been to so much Boston jazz history
Local Talent
27
Why many artists are abandoning folk, and what it indicates about genre fluidity
A personal look back at some ‘90s Hindi cinema highlights
A conversation with rising R&B/ hip hop artist Karan Marwah
TV Killed the Record Label: Adult Swim’s Effect on the Music Industry How a late-night comedy channel left its mark on the musical landscape
The Morning After: Revisiting Either/Or 20 Years Later
The Fall of the Folk Revival
Interviews Karan Marwah
Hip Hop Around the World
An examination of the past, present and future of Elliott Smith’s most revered album
Album Reviews The Shins, Thundercat, Ty Segall, Future
17
Ad libs have taken over the rap game — but what does that mean for the genre?
South Florida’s youngest rap stars have more to offer listeners than chaos and danger
Reviews
More Than Words: A Look at Ad Libs in Rap
Features
Gravel Get to know one of the Boston area’s finest riot grrrl bands
Etcetera
33
Just A Taste Of
46
Discography
50
In Defense Of
Trap Music Orchestra
Let’s take a closer look at the evolution of singer-songwriter Andrew Bird
Foo Fighters’ One By One
Calendar January May Su
1
Sa
12
3 2
4 3
5 4
6 5
7 6
Tycho Sun Drifter O’Brien’s House of Blues Pub
Title Fight The Sinclair
Beastle Blue Hill Bank Pavilion
LeonDamned Trout The Thunder Rock RoadClub Paradise
RealThief Big Estate and BrightonCosmos Frankie Music Hall Royale Squirrel Nut Zippers The Sinclair
DwightBlacker Sarah Yoakam Club Passim House of Blues
8 7
9 8
10 9
11 10
12 11
12 13
13 14
Pond Jonathan Biss & Miriam The Sinclair Fried Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum
Rostam The Sinclair
Desiigner Meg Baird The Center Sinclairfor Arts
Ryan Adams Atlast Lab The Middle Blue Hills Bank East Downstairs Pavillion
Midnight Circa Survive Oil and mewithoutYou House of Blues House of Blues Forth Wanderers and Half Waif Great Scott
Meat KingsPuppets of Leon & and Deerhunter Mike Watt Brighton TD Garden Music Hall
Perfume Guster Genius Royale Paradise Rock Club
14 15
15 16
16 17
17 18
19 18
20 19
21 20
State Reel Big Champs Fish, Royale Anti-Flag , and Ballyhoo! House of Blues
San Fermin Brighton Music Hall
Laura Josh Lekas Marling Paradise The Middle Rock East Club Downstairs
Wavves Brighton Music Hall
Plaid The Sinclair
Pixies Glazerr Cherry The Middle House of Blues East Downstairs
Pixies& Pop and Bash The SoofSo House Blues Glos Great Scott
22 21
23 22
24 23
25 24
26 25
27 26
28 27
Pixies Rye Pines, Font Han and Bilge Rat Royale O’Briens’s Pub
TV Girl The Middle East Downstairs
Adam Ant Wilbur Theatre
Tokyo Police Club and Charly Bliss The Sinclair
Old Crow Medicine Basecamp and Lauv (performing Show Great Scott Blonde on Blonde) Orpheum Theater
Boston Phox and Calling Cuddle Magic Athletic Harvard Brighton Music Hall Complex
Boston Haynes Warren Calling and Michael Athletic Harvard McDonald Orpheum Theatre Complex
29 28
30 29
31 30
31
Boston Calling Harvard Athletic Complex
Isaiah Rashad The Sinclair
Cloud Nothings Paradise Rock Club
at the Armory
Rockommends
Public Access T.V Great Scott
Perturbator ONCE Ballroom
Caspian Royale
Ryan Meg Adams Baird May 10 January @ Blue 10Hills @ The Bank Center Pavillion for Arts at the Armory
Wavves Phox May 17 @January Brighton 27Music @ Brighton Hall Music Hall
Alt-country Yellowcard heavy-hitter is finallyRyan calling Adams it quits arrives after inmore San Boston Francisco-based this spring in support Meg Baird of hisvisits latestthe album, Armory on Prisoner, sabbatical and thatfrom means theyou erratic better psych-rock have beerof Heron (and tissues) Oblivion.atHer the2015 ready.solo Adams record bears /Don’t his soul Weigh Down on new the tracks Light/ that is as speak trueabout to herhis seminal recent freak divorce folk from Mandy projectMoore, Espersthough as ever,there and will promises undoubtedly a near-astral be some channeling old favorites of her onmore the set British list, including folk influences. cuts off hisCome 2015 full-album out for thecover folk literacy of TaylorofSwift’s Shirley 1989. Collins Anchored crystalized by Jenny in Lewis, the cosmic this iswonderment a can’t-miss for of Baird’s Americana vocals. fans.
If the onlyInthing theiryou relatively like more short than time snot-and-sugaras a band, Phox, infused punk also rock known is gratuitous as “The Little overuse Wisconsin of theBand letter V, then boy That do Could,” we havehas theearned show for praise you!from On May music 17, Nathan Williams authorities will take suchaas break All Songs from Considered’s whining about record labels, Bob Boilen trying to and get producer/musician gross sexually explicit Justin antiTrump billboards Vernon (Bon funded Iver). andTheir just generally shows areacting intimate like a petulant, yet entitled powerful, bratand to play are awith great hisway band to Wavves break up at Brighton those Music mid-winter Hall. Hey,blues. you don’t have to like the dude toHelen enjoy Hennessey(Music) pogoing along to “Post Acid” and “Demon to Lean On.”
By Peter Giunta (Biology) Justine Cowan (Marketing)
Terence Cawley (Biology)
February June
you can view the calendar online at: http://tastemakersmag.com/calendar
Su
Sa
5 4
6 5
1
12
3 2
4 3
Great Good Fine Ok Brighton Music Hall
Portugal. P. O. S the Man The Sinclair House of Blues
The Orwells White Lies The Middle SinclairEast Downstairs
Real Friends Priests and HalfsourRock Club Paradise Great Scott
7 6
8 7
9 8
10 9
11 10
Banks Red Hot Chili Peppers Royale TD Garden
Girlpool Red Hot Chili Peppers Music Hall Brighton TD Garden
City and Color Drive-By Truckers Royale Blue Hills Bank Pavillion
Jurassic Lady Lamb 5 The Sinclair Royale
Nick Cave Noam Pikelny & and Anais The Bad Mitchell Seeds Sanders Theatre Wang Theater GWELL-O
Radiator Hospital Great Scott
12 11
13 12
Ween Blue Hills Bank Pavillion
The Middle East Upstairs
14 13
15 14
16 15
17 16
18 17
Lemuria, Mikey Erg and Cayetana The Sinclair
Bryan Adams Laura Mvula The Sinclair Blue Hills Bank Pavillion
Less Than Jake and Pepper House of Blues
Sorority Cecile McLorin Noise Salvant The Sinclair and Aaron Diehl
Diana Turner Frank Krall & Shubert The Sleeping Theater Souls
Berklee Performance Center
Agganis Arena
Rick Astley House of Blues
19 18
20 19
21 20
22 21
23 22
24 23
25 24
The Dirty Tove Lo and Heads Phoebe Blue HillsRyan Bank House of Blues Pavillion
PWR BTTM Japandroids Royale Rock Club Paradise
John Mark McMillan
Third Eye David Duchovny Blind Wilbur and Silversun Theatre Pickups Blue Hills Bank Pavillion
Ms.Lauryn Hill Wang Theatre
Kidz R un The BopJewels Kids House of Blues Blue Hills Bank Pavillion Black Joe Lewish &
George Hall andClinto Oates & Parliamentand Tears for Fears Funkadelic TD Garden
The Honeybears The Middle East Downstairs
Rose Cousins Club Passim
28
29
Wilbur Theatre
26 25
27 26
28 27
The Griswolds The Sinclair
Colony House The Sinclair
Jason You Blew Isbell It!, All Get Out, Blue Hills and BankFree Throw Pavillion The Sinclair
House of Blues
30
PixiesLamb Lady February May 19-2110@@House The Sinclair of Blues, Paradise Rock Club
Boston Calling Music Festival Japandroids February May 26-28 20@@Harvard Royale Athletic Complex
The latest Lady Lamb, reunion the lovelorn cycle ofstorytelling the Pixies, which powerhouse has project ofa Maine-native included jam-packed world Aly Spaltro, tour andisthe going 2016on release a living of theirroom first album tour insince support 1991’s of her Trompe newLe EP: Monde, /Tender has Warriors been an absolute Club/. Fortunately treat. On thefor tailyou, end her of their Boston latest date isn’t the tour, in aPixies living will room be – playing it’s at three The Sinclair! hometown So shows twist your in Boston, hips, two crane at the your House neck,ofand Blues be and thankful one at you the don’t have Paradise Rock to sit Club. on The someone’s indie-rock weird game-changers, couch. who Bywill Reid beFlynn supported (Accounting) by Tastemakers Presents alumni Cymbals Eat Guitars, are bound to put on a show that you will not want to miss.
For their first year Japandroids, that dynamic at their new, duolarger of combustible home in Harvard Canadians, Athletic have finally Complex, the awoken Bostonfrom Calling their Music three-year Festival slumber, is stepping and its they game return up. Between to the atouring diverselife range bearing of headliners the gift of(Tool, a newMumford album, & /NearChance Sons, to the Wild the Heart Rapper) of Life/. and a Ifridiculously the title track stacked is anyundercard indication, filled with the that likes newofalbum’s Run thegoing Jewels, to be Mitski, as chock-full Danny Brown of and explosive rockPresents Tastemakers glory as alumni the firstCar twoSeat were, Headrest, and you’re notnot to mention “a gonna film experience want to miss curated the opportunity by Natalie Portman,” to hear those this issongs shaping in up to their be one intended of the highlights setting: aof dark theclub summer full offestival sweatyseason. believers. Even if you Opening think thatisMumford the man who & Sons almost sucks. single-handedly put the rock back in indie rock, Craig Finn, with his new band The Uptown Controllers. Terence Cawley (Biology)
David McDevitt (International Affairs/Economics)
Terence Cawley (Biology)
MORE THAN WORDS: Editorial
A LOOK AT AD LIBS IN RAP The Starland Vocal Band, smooth-pop creators of schmaltzy hits like “Afternoon Delight,” won the Grammy for best new artist in 1976. Given that the taste of the Grammy awards veers towards safe, conservative music, very few people would expect a “best new artist” to be any kind of innovator, except maybe of course for thinly veiled songs about sex. But Chance the Rapper, the most recent honoree Best New Artist, is an innovator, surfing a long-crested wave that has subtly altered the idea of what constitutes “rap”: the abrasive, lovable use of ad libs. Chance’s ad lib, a weird half-squawk, has peppered his small discography. It has even been the chorus of a song, and when he played Northeastern last spring I had the joy of seeing a whole hockey stadium of half-wasted college kids all squawk in unison, like if they let geese attend rap shows and also drink. To many, these ad libs are annoying and distinctly
brr
Spring 2017
88
yeah boi
un-musical. He’s just a making a noise with his mouth, right? It doesn’t mean anything. But there’s an infectious charm to Chano’s squeak. It doesn’t have verbal meaning, but it communicates a kind of playful swagger. This dude is ready to sound like a duck while playing a stadium. His charisma carries it and makes it something great. Chance is not the first to do ad lib lines. Certainly, rap ad libs are about as old as rap records themselves. Hype men like Flavor Flav are instructive in this — who could forget his “yeah boi” ad lib, which meshed so amazingly with Chuck D’s powerful ruminations on race, politics and America. But in the modern era, these ad libs are not being delivered by a hype man, they are multitracked into a track and can be as important to a rapper’s identity as his flow or vocal tone. Ad libs serve a straightforward purpose, filling in gaps in a song and generally making the listener feel excited. Today, the ad lib serves a more artistic and powerful purpose. In some ways, it’s a branding tool. Gucci Mane’s “Brrrrr” ad lib and Kanye’s goose noise (not going to try to spell it) are both part of their identity as rappers. Perhaps the best example of this is Lil Jon, the Atlanta producer who transcended to the status of a living meme thanks to his ad libs, which were immortalized in “The Chappelle
Show.” Lil Jon wasn’t the first to do this, but he was a guiding light in the solidification of the rap ad lib. Another Lil rapper, Lil B, has also been crucial to what ad libs have become. Lil B’s “based” style of rapping emphasizes looseness and his ad libs come off in a janky, beautiful way that play into this feeling. Who else could make yelling “Martha Stewart” feel totally at home in his raps? It would be easy to make a quick judgement about the growth of these ad libs. To some, surely they represent the decline of a “lyrical” style of rap and the growth of a new generation of rap music unconcerned with the credentials of the old school. But this analysis misses the point of these prominent ad libs, which are furthering the percussive, nonverbal aspect of rap music. In “Decoded,” Jay-Z’s biographic-lyric annotation two-for one, Jay takes some time to analyze some lyrics by Run DMC, a group that made hip hop in a style that sounds quaint by today’s standards. Jay-Z looks at one line in particular about stashing “cheeba” in a locker, not drinking vodka and being a chief rocka, and rather than putting down these simplistic lyrics, Jay-Z sees a powerful rhythmic phrasing, saying: “The point of those bars is to bang out a rhythmic idea, not to impress you with the literal meaning of the words.” The prominent ad lib of today is the descendant of this idea. When Migos echo the final syllable of each word on the song “Culture” for example, it isn’t to impress anyone with insane wordplay, but to keep the song interesting with another rhythmic idea, by adding in this small detail. These insertions by Migos aren’t technically even ad libs, but they are in keeping with a new feel in rap that takes the bludgeoning, ultra-simple style of trap
r r b
rappers like Waka Flocka Flame and pushes this simplicity so far that it becomes abstract and post-verbal. In short, the rise of the ad lib is a sign that rap music is still moving forward, often in ways that nobody would have expected. In an era where throwback, ultra-literate rap has become accepted, gentrified and commodified to an entire generation raised on the glory of 90s rap, the ad lib is emphasizing the parts of rap music that don’t rely on just words to make you want to listen again and again. It might sound childish or unskilled to use them, but it makes me excited for what post-verbal ideas will be the next rap craze. Who knows, maybe the technical, lyrically dense style of 90s rap will merge with the post verbal style, or maybe rap will continue to twist and tweak the boundaries of words even further. Until then, I’ll keep appreciating the beauty of Chance’s squawk, Migo’s “MAMA” and above all, (I said I wouldn’t spell it, but here goes) Kanye’s “HANH.”
squawk squawk
• Seth Queeney (Political Communications)
99
EGYPT Editorial
Hip hop in Egypt, like in much of the Middle East, is not in the mainstream, although it has grown in popularity in recent years. Arabian Knightz gained popularity in 2011, with the track “Rebel” (which samples Lauryn Hill) amidst the January 25th Revolution in Egypt. The government, in response to the protest, shut down the internet, and upon it being restored, this track was one of the first to emerge. The group consists of Rush and E-Money, who typically rap in Arabic, and Sphinx, who raps in English.
Hip hop there has faced many restrictions not just in terms of political censorship, but also in a religious (and inherently social) sense as well. Islam is very important to many Egyptians, and boasting about material wealth as well as sex and other topics is not well received in a conservative religious society. Middle Eastern hip hop is also unique in that many of the beats draw influence from more traditional Middle Eastern music and instruments.
AROUND THE W ORLD Spring 2017
10
As hip hop has grown and evolved since its beginnings in the ‘70s and ‘80s, it has managed to fill different forms in cities across America. From the sampling and lyricism of the East Coast to the bouncy, screwed beats of the Dirty South, all the way out to the gangsta rap on the West Coast,
hip hop has always been shaped by its geography. But like most music, especially in the digital age, rap has spread further than just the borders of the United States, filling nearly every corner of the globe. In doing so, countries have adopted their own unique styles and hip hop cultures.
GERMANY When hip hop first made its way to Germany, it followed the US model so closely that much of it was in English. But following the reunification of Germany in the early 1990’s hip hop, a unique form of German hip hop began to emerge. It became very popular with Turkish immigrants, and it was reflective of struggles with acceptance and poverty. One of the most well-known rappers in Germany, with a career spanning the last 20 years, Sido, has used the harshness of
SOUTH KOREA the German language to his advantage. His rough, aggressive raps are somewhat reminiscent of Eminem (more content-wise than sonically). But the hard, crunching beats and harsh lyrics of “Strip fur Mich”, “Mein Block” and several others, are so well complimented with the language it makes something unique from American rap. In recent years, the German hip hop mainstream has been taken over by the panda-mask-wearing artist Cro. His debut with German independent hip hop label Chimperator, was titled Raop, a portmanteau he has coined describing his rap-pop style. He and labelmates SAM and Weekend have taken a jump away from the harsh style that Sido popularized giving a new take on German-language hip hop.
The explosion of Keith Ape’s “It G Ma” shined a much needed light on a growing South Korean hip hop scene. The Cohort member has really made a name for himself by recording a remix with Waka Flocka, Dumbfounded, Father and ASAP Ferg and performing around the United States. His hard hitting trap style is gaining a foothold in the Korean music scene with the help of fellow Cohort members JayAllDay and Okasian, along with Illionaire Records founders The Queitt and Dok2. Not-so-subtly influenced by the trap rap in America, English phrases (especially expletives) are sprinkled throughout, even when the song is primarily in Korean. But though Korean trap has begun to emerge into the American mainstream, it is still relatively underground in Korea. The most notable hip hop in the Korean mainstream comes from K-pop artists like TOP, G-Dragon, ZICO and CL. Whether EDM-influenced and dancey or light and poppy, South Korean hip hop also parallels that of the U.S., with artists like Flo Rida, Pitbull and Iggy Azalea using hip hop influences in a similarly watered-down, mainstream fashion.
BRAZIL The core of Brazilian hip hop has always been political messages. It took its roots in Sao Paolo in the early 1980s and has become an important subculture there, eventually spreading around the country. Brazilians have embraced the hip hop culture as a means for artistic expression, often times pointing out overlooked social issues or injustices. Criolo for example spent most of his early hip hop career performing locally, and, at the age of 41, has finally begun to see some commercial success in the past few years. But the music he makes doesn’t require youth, and his life experience adds to what he creates. What he raps about often pertains specifically to life in Sao Paolo and growing up in poverty. American pop music has a hold in Brazil, but hip hop fans are not concerned with much of American rap. When hip hop first came to Sao Paolo, it drew heavy influence from the American hip hop it was pulling from. But it seems as though once it came to Brazil, it has been “preserved” in a way and has remained in the same conscious style of the 1990s that hip hop purists believe is no longer around. But artists like Criolo, and Emicida, Black Alien and Rodrigo Ogi prove that it is very much still alive.
GHAN A The Ghanaian hip hop scene is an interesting one, in that much of it is sonically dissimilar to American hip hop. The line between GH rap (what Ghanaian hip hop is typically referred to as) and Ghanaian hiplife is a very blurry one. Hiplife is a genre in Ghana and a handful of other African countries that incorporates highlife, a music style originating in Ghana that fused traditional drums and rhythm with Western horns and guitars, as well as hip hop. The result is that many of the lyrics are somewhere between sung and rapped, and the music is often upbeat and dancey. Artists like Sarkodie, Omar Sterling and Mugeez from R2Bees, Guru and E.L dominate the music industry there. In the Ghana Music awards there is a combined category for hiplife and hip hop nominations. Though hiplife is very dominant, artists like Kojo Cue and Pappy Kojo, who have a style more similar to American hiphop, still have a presence in Ghana.
• Alex Wetzel (Business Administration)
11
Uncovering the artist an i nterview with
Interview
KMaWa By I saa c F e l d b e rg ( Journ a l i s m )
Spring 2017
12
For hip-hop/R&B triple threat Kmawa (real name: Karan Marwah), singing, writing and producing his own mixtape started out as both labor of love and trial by fire. “I was so new to this whole game,” reflects the computer engineering major, 22, of the year-and-a-half he spent crafting Binna Minute, a genre-spanning EP that he finally dropped on SoundCloud last fall, awash in ambient R&B and synth-steeped philosophizing about love and loss. “I
was like, ‘I’m going to figure this out, and hopefully somebody listens to it, right?’” The response, galvanized by Kmawa’s entrepreneurial energy in reaching out to anyone and everyone who’d try his sound on for size, was more than he could have expected. “Two singles off the tape are at 14,000 listens on SoundCloud, with mad likes, and a bunch of different blogs have written about it,” he says. “It’s dope to me that it’s getting that response, that I show it to people and they say it sounds like real shit.”
Since releasing the mixtape, Kmawa has wasted no time in turning toward the future, breaking fresh sonic ground with a crew of local rappers as well as a forthcoming neo-soul tape that he hopes will bring him recognition as a renaissance man and a free agent in equal measure. Tastemakers Magazine sat down with the rising star to talk about Binna Minute, music-making and what lies ahead.
Tastmakers Magazine (TMM): What set you on the path to making this mixtape? Karan Marwah (KM): I’ve been singing on my own for a while — self-taught — and I never thought I’d be writing music and making music until I met a producer a year and a half ago. We kind of fucked around and just made a song — it was actually a demo version of “Sinking,” on the mixtape. We made that song for fun and showed it to a bunch of people, who showed it to some people in the music industry, and a lot of people were impressed. So we decided to do another one, and another one turned into, “Let’s do a whole project,” and then the plan started forming as to what the project was going to be.
to the come-up. That’s the whole narrative that unfolds, and everyone I sing about or from the perspective of is a character that is a mix of experiences I’ve had, people I’ve known. There’s hyperbole, because every good story has a little bit of that, right?
me, so that’s where the themes of rotten love come from. The emotions behind the comeup, though, are also crazy — the timeline between being in a rotten relationship, coming out of that, the come-up, the rebound, and the final wilin’ out… Ultimately, the instrumentation, the melody, and the way I sing definitely are all influenced by the Hindi music I listen to.
TMM: Binna Minute says a lot about romance and relationships. What did you draw on to craft that narrative? KM: The narrative that unfolded was all about experiences I’ve had in my life in addition to experiences people I’m close with have had, about overcoming rotten love and going from the low-low-low, to the rebound,
TMM: You’ve been open about your upbringing influencing your sound. Can we explore that? KM: For sure. I’m Indian, and the first music I ever listened to was just Hindi music, except for that music my mom sometimes played, which were all love songs, R&B, and soul. She’d listen to Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, and Marc Anthony — that kind of shit. That got me hooked on R&B. Then, actually, the first album I ever bought was Late Registration by Kanye West, so that got me hooked on hip hop. I fell in love with those two things, so I was always attached to the emotion conveyed in R&B and love songs. It’s almost like that song that goes, “You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness” [Gotye’s “Somebody That I Used to Know”.] The romanticism behind that really vibes with
TMM: Can you give an example of where that’s visible in the lyrics? KM: “It’s binna minute since I’ve seen you” is the first line, and “it’s binna minute” is the last line. The double meaning behind that is that “bina” in Hindi means “without,” so it’s also a play that goes, “I’ve been without you for a minute.” TMM: Does “Binna Minute” fit into one genre? KM: The style of my tape is so versatile — there’s somebody for everybody on it despite the cohesion of the theme. There are underwater sounds that are really spaced-out and almost druggy; there’s the traditional R&B/hip-hop songs like “Vowels”; you’ve
Photo by Nola Chen (Computer Science)
got “Sinking,” which has these electric undertones; “On the Low” has that funky bass modulation. I try to bring all these different kinds of things — alongside the experiences I’ve had — onto the tape… I wouldn’t classify it as strictly R&B — there’s pop in there, there’s alternative in there, acoustic guitar on one track, there’s a lot of live instrumentation on one track. It has a lot of musicality. TMM: What’s your approach to songwriting? KM: Once I had the concept, I would write down anything that came to me. I have notes on notes of lyrics and bars. When it came to making songs, I’d craft production around the vibe I wanted, and then I’d figure out what in those paragraphs of notes would fit together to make lyrics… You’ll hear a homie say something or be chatting up some chick, and they’ll say something and you’re like, “Wow, that just resonates.” It’s crazy just keeping your ears open, what you hear. I was in a thing with some girl, and we were talking. She’d been drinking a lot and going crazy that night, and I was joking around, saying, “You’re an alcoholic.” And she responded, “I’m not an alcoholic, I’m just never sober.” It fit perfectly,
so I wrote it down, and it made it into this song about a character lost into one drug. And the person who reaches them is lost into another drug. And they overcome their independent addictions by getting lost in each other. TMM: A part of releasing music that a lot of people outside the process don’t consider is promotion. What was it like to break into the areas of the local music industry necessary to get“Binna Minute” on people’s radars? KM: You gotta have your foot in every fucking door. [laughs] There’s like 20 different paths you can take. None of those are guaranteed. One of those will lead to something, so you gotta have doppelgangers of yourself on every path. [laughs] Different yous in different places. I’m a different person when I’m trying to market something to a certain somebody, and I’m a different person when I’m talking to an A&R scout for a local label. TMM: “Binna Minute” has been out in the world for a few months. How has putting it out changed things? KM: “Binna Minute” was 60% me, 40% me trying to appeal to a certain vibe. It had
elements of pop in there, but that’s probably not my game to play. There’s this paradigm in the pop industry where you have to do things you don’t agree with if you come from a particular background. Instead of playing someone else’s game, I’m just gonna do me, play my own game. That’s reflected in the music I’m writing now. TMM: What’s next for you? KM: I’m working on this underground hip hop project with a bunch of local rappers as well as an experimental neo-soul solo project… The hip hop one is coming out hopefully before the end of the semester. I’m grinding through school stuff, but most of the shit is recorded, so I just have to sit in the studio and mix that shit up. My second solo is more like the end of this year; I can probably grind harder when I’m on co-op again. I feel like a new vibe is what I need for myself. It’ll be cool for the fans I do have to know I can do that pop/R&B vibe and do what I’m about to put out. It shows versatility on my end.
13
Show Reviews
Reviews
Run the Jewels Anika Krause (English)
Run the Jewels February 24 @ House of Blues
Spring 2017
14
Imagine chugging an energy drink that’s been struck by lightning while standing at the top of Mount Everest, and that will give you a small taste of what it’s like to see a Run the Jewels show. From start to finish, performances were riddled with an electric energy that flowed into the crowd like a current, keeping the hype constant and contagious. A hip hop collective of Nick Hook, Cuz Lightyear and Gangsta Boo flipped the switch on the night. Nick Hook’s playful tracks were the backdrop for Cuz Lightyear’s conversational, slam-style raps and Gangsta Boo’s explosively powerful verses on love, white boys and what it’s like to be a black woman in the hip hop industry. Following this, the night’s electricity powered some electronic music from Gaslamp Killer, who appealed to the nerds in the audience with samples of beloved themes from The Legend of Zelda and Star Wars. If you’ve never seen a crowd full of white men absolutely lose their minds to a hyped-up version of “The Imperial March,” I would suggest seeking out this highly entertaining experience at a Gaslamp Killer show. Killer was perhaps more excited than the crowd, with his long hair almost floating around his head as he bounced along to his 8-bit-riddled, nerd-celebrating set.
When Run the Jewels finally took the stage around 10, the room was already radiating with enthusiasm inspired by Killer, Boo, Lightyear and Hook. The duo walked out to Queen’s “We Are the Champions,” confirming that this night was already a victory of a performance. From the time the duo took the stage, it was clear they had a plan. The set was clean, rapid-fire and calculated; each song flowed effortlessly into the next in a way that took the already explosive energy to a fever pitch. The two worked the stage like a treadmill, interweaving back and forth from song to song as they performed. They were the only people in the audience able to move, though. The whole crowd was packed so close to the stage that breathing was a struggle, as if the crowd was literally magnetized by the performers. As this was a tour for their new album RTJ3, the majority of the songs featured were from the new album. From RTJ3, “Talk to Me,” “Call Ticketron,” “Don’t Get Captured,” “Stay Gold” and “Panther Like a Panther” all made it to the stage, each with more energy than the last. The pair opened powerfully with “Talk to Me,” a song that set a clear tone for the rest of the night in its
political opening lines that discuss “[going] to war with the devil and Shaytan/ he wore a bad toupee with a spray tan.” Politics really took center stage with RTJ. The duo makes no bones about their political views, as evidenced by Killer Mike’s countless photos with Bernie Sanders and both artists’ advocacy work. Empowerment and anti-Trump advocacy underlied the performance at every turn. Gangsta Boo’s return for “Love Again” celebrated pussy power, and El-P showed his support for “Gangsta Boo 2020.” The duo also spit some curses at our current president, and El-P followed up later by saying, “We’re not activists, we just have hearts.” This was maybe the most electrifying part of the show; there are few things more powerful than being in a packed room surrounded by people who share your beliefs, and, at least in that moment, there was an overwhelming sensation of community and resonance of ideas. Whether or not this moment moved beyond the doors of the House of Blues is uncertain, but it was clear that RTJ had certainly inspired their audience to “Stay Gold.” Anika Krause (English)
Young the Giant February 24 @ Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel At Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel in Rhode Island before Walk the Moon takes the stage, sometime around 2015, the audience does something rare: a chorus breaks out across the room, joining Young the Giant in a studio recording of “My Body” as it plays over the loudspeakers to fill the space between sets. On February 24, 2017, Young the Giant returns to the venue in person to play the song with even more heart, but they can’t seem to carry the audience with them. Young the Giant puts on a show for the Pet Shop Boys sort of fan. Or, probably, front-of-the-room Terence the way-back-in-a-field-with-a-hula-hoop Cawley (Biology) kind. They sound just like they do in the studio, but simplified; it is a good opportunity to remind you that despite their many nuances and polish, Young the Giant is a rock band, and their most loved music is made for dancing. Even though all the essentials were there — an even balance of rock anthems, bassy grooves and ballads — the set list could have done a better job of channeling that energy. The atmosphere was brought to a strange stop-and-go between broad samplings of what YTG offers in their studio albums. And even when alternating between the three general moods, the group is known for a certain sentimentality in their more anthemic pieces, leaving a whole lot more to be felt than they have time to ease into.
The challenge, which may have been won only in denser parts of the crowd for fervent YTG fans, was keeping the attention of more casual concert-goers. Under the flickering din of distracted voices, lovely “Firelight” harmonies unfolded, and for those that could tune out the chatter, the performance must have been no less than etherial. “Repeat,” however, was the quietest YTG should have dared to go; the punchy electric guitar responses to falsetto calls set up a compelling groove for the audience to hold onto while mellowing out the set. If an opportunity to move was Young the Giant’s best opportunity in the live sphere, “Nothing’s Over” was a triumph for its chilled disco disposition. Other obvious winners were “Silvertongue,” “Something To Believe In” (bonus: spine tingling chants) and the most predictable encore imaginable — but all the more satisfying for it — “My Body.” At one of the heights of the show, I felt a strong bittersweet regret at skipping the chance to see “Cough Syrup” under the starry Delaware sky at Firefly Music Festival in 2014. Vocalist Sameer Gadhia carries the band’s stage presence with theatrical dancing and some pretty epic physical efforts to get the sound out, devouring the mike and hanging off the stand — doubled over. The characteristic sweetness in his voice is
unhindered by these efforts. Reeling across the stage in a white jumpsuit and splattered with changing lights as if attending a particularly zealous Holi celebration, Gadhia seemed like an unstoppable force. The rest of the band trended more toward immovable objects, but broke into a charming line-dance choreography during “Nothing’s Over.” Eric Cannata brought some recognizable and exciting guitar solos to life in conjunction with solid grooves from guitarist Jacob Tilley, bassist Payam Doostzadeh and drummer Francois Comtois. For the musical shapeshifter — the I’dsee-them-once-if-I’m-around concertgoer — Young the Giant puts on a show that will certainly be enjoyable, if not riveting. For the avid YTG fan, it is not crucial, but strongly recommended that you plant yourself in the first few rows, where the show can be completely immersive. Even great music precisely played can get a little cold, but Young the Giant brings some bright sparks you and your concert-neighbor can fan into a decent fire. Brianna Caleri (Music History and Analysis)
Colony House February 27 @ The Sinclair I have to admit, Colony House wasn’t on my radar until last fall when their single “Second Guessing Games” popped up in my Spotify recommendations. I was only toe-deep in their music when Only The Lonely dropped just this January. I knew I had to see them while their venues remained intimate; it was only a matter of time before they blew up. The band knows the fame precipice they’re looking over, working seemingly non-stop. Since their 2016 tour ended just last December, Colony House released an album and began their next
tour just this February. I was not in touch with their fanbase, so I had no idea what to expect. Yet, I found the crowd endearing because it was larger than I expected. When the quartet leapt onstage, our focus fixed on the glowing logo behind the band and a buzzing sound slowly reaching a crescendo. The buzz stopped and, without missing a beat, Colony House opened with “Cannot Do This Alone,” a song that captures the primary themes in Only The Lonely: family, brotherhood and comfort in a chaotic world. After warming
up to the crowd, frontman, Caleb Chapman and guitarist Scott Mills strode towards each other for a guitar battle in “1234.” The former swung and jumped around the stage effortlessly as the crowd unironically headbanged. We were two songs in and Colony House had already manifested their alternative pop rock sound through 90’s rock and roll performance style, Kurt Cobain hair and all. Rather than hold their hits until the end, Colony House paced them throughout the show. “You & I,” the most popular single from
15
Reviews
Only The Lonely, was only fifth on the setlist. Afterwards, there was an unexpected halftime as drummer Will Chapman replaced a broken bottom snare drum. Caleb turned to the mic to announce, “You know it’s a good show when a snare drum breaks. You know it’s a great show when the bottom snare drum breaks.” One giant screen behind the band created a technicolor background that narrated each song through movie clips, scenery and dancing girls. For “3:20,” a timer counting down from 3 minutes and
20 seconds was set off after the first note and skillfully ended on the last. Clips from a Robin Williams movie, Hook, played during “Waiting For My Time To Come.” As the song reached its final notes, the movie’s villain was defeated in the background. Colony House refrained from monologue, but created narrative depth through the visualizations. The band avoided song introductions and dialogue with one exception. As he switched his electric guitar for the acoustic, Caleb talked about how grateful he was for
his brother’s ambition and creative input. “Moving Forward” then began between the Chapman brothers in the spotlight. Scott and bassist Parke Cottrell slowly joined in and met Caleb at the mic to sing out the final chorus. The message was clear: the band isn’t called Caleb and The Other Guys. Colony House is a team motivated by good company and great music soon to become sought after stadium headliners. Erin Merkel (Communications)
George Clinton & Parliament-Funkadelic February 25 @ House of Blues At the risk of sounding out of touch with the pretentiously aloof and all-knowing music in-crowd that I have been trying to infiltrate for the past several years, I must admit I was not terribly familiar with the extended work of George Clinton & Parliament-Funkadelic. I knew the hits, like “Give Up the Funk” and “Flashlight,” as well as a few fan favorites like “Maggot Brain” and “P-Funk,” but could never truly call myself an aficionado. After I saw them at House of Blues however, I think I’ve started inching myself towards obsessed. It’s 2017, and still nobody can seem to find a clean way to archive the collective works of Parliament, Funkadelic, and George Clinton. No, I suppose it isn’t a particularly fresh observation to state that the whole record label mess of P-Funk and its stampedethat-killed-Mufasa-sized membership is
Spring 2017
16
We publish show reviews online too! tastemakersmag.com
still confusing. But even setlist.fm seems perplexed, as it listed every song performed by Clinton & Co. at the House of Blues as a cover. I suppose in a way that that is part of the charm of the funk collective: once you’ve gotten through one discography, you can move right along to another, completely reinvented and brimming with new energy. George Clinton & Parliament-Funkadelic (as they are officially on the roster) showed off this range beautifully, and reminded us just why they are the pioneers of funk that they are. The show kicked off with pure energy with “Get Off Your Ass and Jam,” whose aggressive refrain was cleverly used as a transitional motif throughout the show. Meanwhile, there was quite a lot of new material covered on stage (mostly from the 2013 Funkadelic LP First Ya Gotta Shake the Gate), which was surprising, but by no means disappointing (you’d probably be a bit jaded if you had to perform “Give Up the Funk” every other day of your life too). To put it bluntly, the show exuded pure sex and energy. The viscerally charged “Power Pole” glided back
and forth between slow and riveting, while the smooth “Meow Meow” was straight up erotic. “Maggot Brain” was nothing short of a trance. Every member on stage (and there were a lot) was so incredibly enveloped in the transcendent, electric sensuality of the iconic slow-jam that it was hard not to feel just as into it as they were. It seemed the entire audience had the same idea: despite the full house, you couldn’t hear a squeak of banter as the crowd shifted into a twilight zone-like trance; it was truly the highlight of the night. That theme was constant, because more than any band I have experienced in the past, every single member of the group was palpably happy and pumped up; you could tell they were so jazzed to be there. It was back into the upbeat jams from there, with a sudden shift into straight up metal for a song or two, which easily brought the tempo, and wildness of the crowd, back up to speed. Some new material, fan favorite “Give Up the Funk,” and another round of “Get Off your Ass and Jam” later, I left with a complete understanding of what made P-Funk so iconic in the first place. Jason Levy (Marketing)
TV killed the record label: Adult Swim’s Effect on The Music Industry
[as] 17
Feature For many teenagers of the past, formative musical tastes were shaped by the video jockeys at MTV. For a new generation of viewers, the iconic TV channel’s musical programming seems like an artifact of yesteryear. While MTV has steadily decreased its “24-hour musical programming” to a laughable minimum, the off-kilter late-night programming block Adult Swim has only expanded its musical output. Why has AS, a Cartoon Network offshoot that airs only at night when most people are not keen to hear music, become associated with many up-and-coming artists in the digital age? The programming block known for experimental cartoons too crude for the tamer Cartoon Network had humble beginnings, but those in creative control always showed fondness for music. Executive VP Mike Lazzo’s first program to air on AS, “Space Ghost Coast to Coast,” featured the band Pavement, while the actor/animation sub-block Toonami, created by AS Creative Director Jason Demarco, is also a hotbed for musical compilations and soundtracks. The true overlap between the programming block and MTV came in the form of “bumps,” a marriage of audio and visual art pieces that ran between shows. If you stayed up late enough to see the list of artists they had played that day in the mid2000s, you may have caught underground household names such as Madlib, or one of his beat-making successors, Flying
Fall 2014 Spring 2017
18
[as]
Lotus, whose featured beats helped launch his career. Many of these creators had developed an interest in the programming block’s shows; Danger Mouse’s collaboration with MF Doom, The Mouse and the Mask, sampled AS soundtracks, making a unique link between AS and underground hip-hop. Since then, music has only played more of an important role to the company. Adult Swim already has a leg up on other aspiring indie labels. Its young audience, with the age range only growing, already has an interest in underground music in general. Despite the “Adult” in the name, early shows generally brought a college-age artistic audience, but the success of shows such as “Rick and Morty” has made the channel wider-reaching. DeMarco saw this from the very beginning, releasing soundtracks for the shows and implementing the “bumps” as a musical/visual means of advertising. The founding of Williams Street Records in 2007 solidified the musical output of AS. Content creators saw the listening demographic and record label as a cue to implement music into their shows, from Tim and Eric’s comedic songs and music videos to Brendon Small’s “Metalocalypse,” a show centered around the death metal band Dethklok, who has even
“Danger Mouse’s collaboration with MF Doom,
The Mouse and the Mask,
sampled soundtracks from the AS shows, making a unique link between AS and underground hip-hop”
u d lt s a [ ] w im “With the capital AS has to bring its musical profits to 0, releasing music through Adult Swim or WSR is essentially a winwin situation for both artist and listener”
physically toured. The success of the show and band proved hip hop was not the only musical style AS could showcase; Williams Street Records put out various diverse compilations in the late 2000s, from the metallic Metal Swim to a collection of songs by African artists called African Swim. The release of these compilations signaled a turning point for Adult Swim in that they were given away for free. As the company hit a commercial peak in recent years, they could afford to cut revenues on music. For this reason, they debuted AS Summer Singles compilations in the new decade, featuring music from many rising and established independent artists across the genre spectrum. AS’s role in the music industry peaked when DeMarco used his A&R role to revitalize the career of rapper Killer Mike. Despite the rapper having no strong connection to AS TV content, DeMarco saw fit to release the hip-hop artist’s album R. A. P. Music on WSR. Producer El-P befriended Killer Mike through this project, and by the next year their new group Run the Jewels could be seen on the Summer Singles compilation. Famed stoner metal band Sleep awoke from its slumber to release a Summer Single, a proper fit for the channel’s psychedelic-taking audience. While a connection to a show is important to landing music on the network, artists with no show affiliations can still take advantage of the network to release music. Artists are still paid for their contributions, and the company does not struggle with recording copyrights, unlike the traditional record label. In addition, the company already has the fan base and promotional
tools needed to provide artist exposure. Releasing music through Adult Swim or WSR is essentially a win-win situation for both artist and listener. Most record labels trying to compete in the indie sphere cannot boast that. Recently, music being used in a AS TV show has led to negative press. Last year, the short-lived and controversial sketch show “Million Dollar Extreme Presents: World Peace” showcased the performances of bands aspiring for indie fame, such as Ovlov and Chastity Belt. Many of the bands were unaware of the show’s content, only proving how they merely jumped at the chance to be on an AS show. The debacle may have been a red herring for artists looking to enter the AS network traditionally. Nevertheless, for those looking to solely promote and distribute their music, AS still offers a unique plan that gives even the most influential labels a run for their money. This 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. block may be offering more means to success for musicians than 24hour musical programming ever did. • Chris Miller (Accounting)
12:00
19
THE MORNING AFTER: Editorial
REVISITING EITHER/OR
20 YEARS LATER This past February, Kill Rock Stars — indie rock’s golden child of the Pacific Northwest — announced it would be releasing a remastered, expanded edition of Elliott Smith’s Either/Or to celebrate the record’s 20th anniversary. The label has also partnered with popular podcast The Guest List for a six-episode series entitled Say Yes, in which those who knew Smith and those who were influenced by him discuss the album and the impact Smith had on their lives. While many guests on the podcast are unsurprising (Kevin Devine, “Good Will Hunting” director Gus Van Sant), not every singer-songwriter will have Jack Black and Anderson Cooper speaking about his work. Upon listening, it becomes clear this was an artist whose work left a powerful, distinct mark that spread vastly further than his hometown of Portland, Oregon.
UPON LISTENING, IT BECOMES CLEAR THIS WAS AN ARTIST WHOSE WORK LEFT A POWERFUL, DISTINCT MARK ON PEOPLE THAT SPREAD VASTLY FURTHER THAN HIS HOMETOWN OF PORTLAND, OREGON. Spring 2017
20
The West Coast was searching for a refreshing change after spending half of the ‘90s drowning in guitar feedback. The grunge explosion fueled by Seattle and Olympia bands, further propelled into the mainstream by Nevermind and the cultural pedestal forced upon Kurt Cobain, left smaller scenes like Portland gasping for air in the area’s newfound stardom. In response, bands like Built to Spill and Modest Mouse introduced a mellower, more layered approach to guitar music. Stephen Malkmus of Pavement would move to Portland and eventually form The Jicks there, but not before Smith paved the way for indie-folk to take center stage. Smith was already somewhat known thanks to his work with Heatmiser, a straightforward rock band he formed with college friend Neil Gust while attending school in Northampton, Mass. in the late ‘80s. The band reached moderate popularity in the Portland area, but Gust and Smith ran into creative differences, particularly after Smith released his first solo album, Roman Candle, in 1994. The album showcased Smith’s penchant for poppier melodies, though with his signature melancholic touch, and helped him gain traction outside of Heatmiser. It was sparse and understated, a stark contrast from most of the work coming out of the Northwest at the time. Smith’s 1995 self-titled album, his first under Kill Rock Stars, was received well but not widely, and so Heatmiser recorded another album after signing to Virgin Records in 1996, breaking up shortly before its release.
The popularity of that record, Mic City Sons, may have, in part, contributed to the success of Either/Or in 1997, but more critical than that were Smith’s contributions to the “Good Will Hunting” soundtrack. Gus Van Sant, introduced to Smith’s music by a friend, felt that his deceptively emotional pop sensibility would mesh well with the film’s tone, which often employs humor and poignancy in the same scene. Today, Either/Or feels like peeling back the pages of a tattered diary you weren’t supposed to find. Smith weaves together themes of addiction, depression and loneliness while rarely referencing them explicitly, as if recalling a memory through the scattered, minute details. The songs explore Smith’s longing for a connection, and it’s not always clear if the connection he seeks is with another human being, a substance or an emotional experience. But the journey feels self-aware. Smith is often apathetic towards what is happening, and listeners glean that he is observing events without truly reacting to them. On “Alameda,” he admits plainly to himself “your first mistake was thinking that you could relate,” and this sense of isolation colors his perception on much of the album. He masters the art of the casual lyrical gut-punch, often disguising it under a melody or an interesting chord progression. “Rose Parade” begins warm (sonically, at least), as a retelling of Smith watching a parade go by, but his disaffection grows increasingly obvious, culminating in a nonchalantly stated acknowledgement (“when they clean the streets, I’ll be the only
TODAY, EITHER/OR FEELS LIKE PEELING BACK THE PAGES OF A TATTERED DIARY YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO FIND. shit that’s left behind”) whose impact may have softly floated past you had it not been strategically placed at the end of a verse. In a word, the album’s emotional palette could be described as subtle. Many current artists go out of their way to reach extreme heights, whether that translates to being extremely weird, extremely dramatic or something else entirely. Smith, on the other hand, chooses not to bury his introspection under a wash of distortion or shouting. He often lets his instrument speak for him, incorporating the intricate and unconventional fingerpicking he became known for. The vocals, while not always as “whispery” as countless publications have insisted, are almost always subdued, though Smith sings with a quiet confidence that suggests he knows something the audience doesn’t. On “Ballad of Big Nothing,” he declares, “Do what you want to, whenever you want to,” as if he’s figured out before the rest of us that nothing we do is going to matter anyway. Thanks to Smith, bands adopting a softer, more intricate style came to the forefront of the Pacific Northwest scene. Built to Spill, Modest Mouse and Death Cab for Cutie all released albums the same year as Either/Or, and later carried on the legacy that thoughtful indie rock could hit just as hard as its louder counterparts. For Smith, the critical success of the album and “Good
Will Hunting” turned him into an indie darling. “Miss Misery,” a previously unreleased track featured in the film, was nominated for an Academy Award, though it lost to “My Heart Will Go On,” and Smith reluctantly performed the song at the 1998 Oscars ceremony. The momentum continued, and the two albums that followed (XO in 1998 and Figure 8 in 2000) were met with praise as his emotional state deteriorated in the last few years of his life. After a long struggle with depression and substance abuse, Smith died on October 21, 2003 of two stab wounds in his chest, only a few months after getting sober. His autopsy was inconclusive, as the wounds did not show signs of the usual hesitation marks associated with self-inflicted injuries,
HE OFTEN LETS HIS INSTRUMENT SPEAK FOR HIM, INCORPORATING THE INTRICATE AND UNCONVENTIONAL FINGERPICKING HE BECAME KNOWN FOR.
but it was generally considered a suicide. The wall in Los Angeles where the cover of Figure 8 was photographed remains a makeshift memorial site. As when many artists die, particularly under mysterious circumstances, Smith gained somewhat of a cult following afterward, and many who discovered Either/Or later on could not help but focus on its loneliness. In truth, it’s hard not to hear a sense of resignation, but to pigeonhole Smith as a “sad” songwriter greatly oversimplifies his influence. Smith’s musical ghost is seen in various segments of the indie music world. Artists like Kevin Devine and Julien Baker continue his approach to thoughtful emotional writing, evoking intense feelings without being sloppy or overindulgent. In the case of Bright Eyes, there is the same focus on the smallest details of a moment to convey themes, though Conor Oberst takes a messier, more lo-fi route in his earlier material. Although Smith’s internal struggles certainly add a deeper layer of meaning to his work, Either/Or stands comfortably on its own, and those who cite the album’s significant impact on them seem to understand that Smith’s artistry could not be fully captured or understood through a single record or a discussion of “what went wrong.” • Justine Cowan (Marketing)
21
Cover Story
6’7”
6’6”
6’5”
6’4”
MEMBERS ONLY:
THE INDIVIDUALITY OF
SOUTH FLORIDA HIP HOP
“Let ’s open this pit the fuck up.”
Spring 2017
22
For a second, I forgot I was at a rap show and not a metal or punk concert, where those words would typically be heard. I was wobbling among the several young males rocking Supreme jackets and at most five females with shiny chokers when suddenly I was swiped to the wall of a newly formed circle pit, all eyes focused on performer Ski Mask the Slump God for further instruction. Rewind a bit to how I got to this sweat-fest at the Knitting Factory in Brooklyn this February. The DEATH OF MY TEENAGE tour includes headliner and Broward County, Fl. hip-hop artist Robb Bank$, along with fellow South Florida residents Ski Mask the Slump God, Wifisfuneral and RonnyJ. With the oldest of them being 22 years old, their presence and music emanate the stunning youth of South Florida’s somewhat new rap scene. Their inventive style is on the rise, with rappers like Future and Lil Uzi Vert shouting them out on Twitter, Fool’s Gold producer SKYWLKR opening Danny Brown’s Atrocity Exhibition tour with a mashup of songs from the area, A$AP Rocky reciting one of the rapper’s opening bars from memory on Instagram Live and Drake even jacking one of the residents’ flows in an unreleased song he’s been premiering on tour. South Florida rap is sonically cathartic and catered to the eager, growing crowds of youth ready to throw elbows to Travis $cott songs, but what’s most impressive is how multifaceted and controversial the scene has become in such a short time.
Originally, the Miami hip-hop scene conjured thoughts of Rick Ross, the 2 Live Crew or *shivers* Pitbull, but as of late, Miami started becoming simply a backdrop for hip hop. Drake and Future constantly namedrop famous Miami nightclub LIV as their favorite spot to be, Migos’ promotional material for Culture consisted of them zooming on I-95 in their white Lamborghinis and Lil Wayne now famously resides there in humbled luxury. The idea of South Florida being anything more than a vacation spot for these rappers, and even our current president, seemed hopeless. With the recent attention drawn to South Florida due to our president’s presence, it being the setting of 2017 Best Picture winner Moonlight and these young rappers causing a storm, I felt a glimmer of hope that my hometown was a setting worth studying. I grew up there for the first 18 years of my life and practically never left the state, allowing my growth and development to evolve amidst sandcastles and insatiable sunshine. Growing up in a beach setting, masculinity and femininity were so strictly dichotomized, and sexual undertones so far from subtle, that personal identity could become a challenge to realize. Postcards commonly feature women in bikinis blowing kisses to a “Wish you were here” message in the corner, and one of Miami’s most prominent skyscrapers, the InterContinental, features a huge, light-up Dancing Lady on its side. It’s no surprise what these messages can subconsciously do to a person. Just as notable as the sexism is the invisible presence of prisons in South Florida culture. Driving to the annual South Florida Fair involved a long route littered with police officers whose primary purpose was to obscure the fact that the fair was located amidst an enormous prison and two correctional facilities. According to the National Institute of Corrections (2015), Florida has a rate about 29% higher than the national average of incarcerated adults per 100,000, ranking it 10th highest in the nation. Around 30% of the state’s incarcerated population originates from Duval, Miami-Dade and Broward counties. Florida Senator Marco Rubio is heavily tied to the private prison industry and its growing political influence, as he has close ties with the nation’s second largest for-profit prison company GEO Group. The Miami Herald has a dedicated investigative series that has highlighted the Florida Department of Corrections’ corruptive policies: notable understaffing, torturing of inmates and exponentially increasing incarcerated population. Both main characters in Moonlight
Black, Kodak Pompano Beach, FLorida
23
Cover Story
Curry, Denzel Miami Gardens, Florida
Spring 2017
24
attend prison in the gaps between chapters as if it is a black boy’s rite of passage — which, in the case of South Florida’s young rappers, it really is. Do a Google search on any of the region’s biggest names, like Kodak Black, XXXTentacion or Ski Mask the Slump God, and I guarantee their primary photo will be a mugshot. Aside from being a stellar example of institutional discrimination, these boys really aren’t the best people, and defending them for their artistic capabilities becomes harder as more and more of their personal history is uncovered. I won’t go into detail on what they have or haven’t done, but I warn it isn’t pretty, and I suppose that’s what keeps the South Florida rap scene from truly blowing up to Atlanta or Los Angeles proportion. Their actions are gruesome, their tweeted thoughts are horrifying and their lyrics are almost always NSFW, so defending them as people is a contrived, useless effort. Before completely shutting down these artists due to their gross actions, it’s worth taking the time to step back and frame these young men and their upbringing within the setting I’ve discussed, in a system that is anything but fair. Though it would be completely understandable to dismiss any attention paid to these wrongdoers, it can be stunning to step back and connect this well-known land to the groundbreaking music these boys are making. Groundbreaking, ear-shattering, mind-blowing — all bloated terms that should be understood as somewhat literal when taking the sound of South Florida hip hop into consideration. Their songs often follow a structure of nervous laughter and chatting over an immaterial instrumental before a muddy bass erupts with terrifying strength. The bass persists with confident, shouting vocals superimposed over the trembling. Juxtaposing the crunkcore sound is the wordplay these boys bounce off one another, developing into a genre that is memorable and unabashedly unique to them and their region. “TAKE A STEP BACK” by Ski Mask the Slump God, produced by RonnyJ and featuring XXXTentacion, contains a highly addictive hook where all three boys and probably more in the studio just chant “FUCKED UP, FUCKED UP, FUCKED UP” over a menacing bass that ascends and descends at a much different rate than their bellows. The quakes pause for inane bars like (content warning: everything) “She said drop that meat in me just like a shopping cart / Told me ‘Head straight to the back’ just like I’m Rosa Parks,” and it’s both highly gross but impressive that it works. After a long intro of women moaning, “RIP ROACH” opens with XXXTentacion, 19, gushing, “Cocaine for my breakfast / Hold that pistol, ambidextrous.” His energy carries throughout the entire verse and his enunciations are so pronounced that you can practically hear
him spit on the mic when he yells. Despite being in jail as of March for aggravated battery of a pregnant victim (I warned that their past wasn’t pretty), XXXTentacion’s popularity has only grown in his absence, with the crowd at the concert I was at chanting “FREE X” at every quiet moment. His most popular song, “Look at Me!” rose to the top of Soundcloud and Spotify charts once it was confirmed that Drake jacked his flow for an unreleased song. It couldn’t just be the news that got “Look at Me!” so high while he was locked up, as the song itself is impressive in how he drops his flow at the end of every line only to immediately pick it back up with unbridled intensity. “I’m like bitch who is your mans? (ay) / Can’t keep my dick in my pants! (ay),” he opens with a surprisingly lighthearted tone as cartoon-like explosion sound effects and giggles slip in. The music is so youthful, with 2016 XXL Freshman and South Florida native Denzel Curry, 22, attaining his status by way of references to Dragon Ball Z, an unstoppable tape called Nostalgic 64 and custom visuals at his shows that melt together scenes from The Boondocks and Call of Duty footage. Denzel offers a politically charged perspective like no other in the game right now, as he often reminisces on attending high school with Trayvon Martin. His flow dominates every song and feature with personal anguish, like on the titular “N64,” where a minor key piano loop eases into a beat fueled by African drums and a noticeably hollow, angelic choir. He struggles internally: “Free me from misery and un-easy / Pain, emotions from the crypt I gain / Yet another young brain slain, mane...Dang! / He just lost consciousness / That’s life when you live without consequence / Death over sixteen shots, his head is split / Dead.” For being 18 years old when this record was released, Denzel’s spot in the XXL Freshman squad is well-deserved. Initiated into the XXL Freshmen alongside Denzel is Kodak Black, 19, whose nasally flow can miraculously transform from sounding gruesome in songs like “Everything 1k” to sexy in songs like “Skrt.” “I was just on the news, now I’m on MTV,” he raps with bewilderment, as if he’s equally amazed at the ascent he and his crew have reached in terms of popularity. With features like Trap God Gucci Mane and Boosie BadAzz, his 2016 tape Lil B.I.G. Pac stands as no joke despite the photoshopped cover of his face on a baby. He’s experienced quite a lot in life, from shuffling in and out of probation sentences to raising hell through trapping and documenting oral sex during an Instagram Live broadcast, to which he responded, “If I could change I swear I would…I tried everything but I’m just so hood.” Kodak’s testimony is awful yet poetic, a description that can be applied to all the aforementioned South Florida rappers. Being flung into fame is the last thing these boys expected, especially considering
XXX Tentacion Lauderhill, FLorida
25
Cover Story how proud they are of being homegrown Soundcloud rappers. All their songs are tagged with “#underground,” and only a few of them have moved past Soundcloud to streaming. It’s definitely what makes the newly developed scene feel so niche and edgy, perfect for the crowd of aggressively alone boys I was surrounded by at February’s show. Every listed artist made it feel like the venue was convulsing, my friend left early because he feared for his safety and those on stage would often play songs by their imprisoned friends XXXTentacion or Kodak Black for the crowd to lose themselves in. Headliner Robb Bank$, 22, and also the son of reggae-fusion singer Shaggy, hopped on the bar’s countertop and ignored the screaming bartender to rap “Phone Talk” above a consistently shifting mass of fans. Bank$’ mixtape catalog is expansive as he began releasing songs on his Tumblr when he was 16, often rapping with an awareness present in lines like “Took my plug out her socket like she Terri Schiavo.” He even has a song called “It Wasn’t Me” in reference to his father’s popular hit where he stunningly defines himself as being the self-made, hardworking rapper I saw on that bar countertop that night. The music flooding out of South Florida isn’t entirely aggressive. When not rapping over heavily distorted, unmixed beats, XXXTentacion breaks down into screamo on songs like “King,” flirts with atmospheric R&B on “I don’t wanna do this anymore” and quietly cries over nothing but a cold piano on “I spoke to the devil in Miami, he said everything would be fine.” More than just criminals, these young men are multifaceted artists with massive catalogs that capture everything in the emotional spectrum. Their work and fame is nothing short of incredible given that their average age is twenty. Much like how the LAPD and Rodney King riots are considered when studying the West Coast hip-hop scene, or how reverberations from Chicago can be felt in drill music, South Florida hip hop is just as fucked up and fascinating when it comes to cultural history and the music generated from it. These young men will never change; it’s how we accept this fact that makes the scene so important. • Anu Gulati (Computer Science/Mathematics) Spring 2017
26
Local Talent
Gravel members
Victoria (vocals) Sam (guitar/vocals) Liz (drums) Heather (bass) sounds like
Bratmobile Slutever
In March 2015, Gravel began just as many of its contemporaries had: hastily,
r eco m m e n d e d t rac ks
SLEEP ISNT CONSENT
and in a basement.
To What Do I Owe Fine upcoming shows
March 19 @ Zuzu April 19 @ The Middle East Upstairs c h e c k o u t g r av e l
gravelmusic.bandcamp.com
The four Salem-based musicians — Victoria, Sam, Liz, and Heather — had met and bonded at local shows, and that shared mindset was soon palpable in Gravel’s uncompromising live presence. Just one month after forming, the band released Lap Happy: an album of slapdash garage punk offerings that might sound at home among West Coast contemporaries if not for its aggressive and distinctly Bostonian approach. It wasn’t long before Gravel was appearing alongside grungy local staples like Potty Mouth, Palehound, and Ursula. The four have developed their sound considerably in their short, two-year history. On “SLEEP ISNT CONSENT”
(from 2016’s I Never Asked), vocalist Victoria delivers a biting anti-rape anthem backed by a formidable wall of fuzz. On “To What Do I Owe,” the band’s irreverent musicianship conveys a sonic punk swagger. One could probably classify Gravel as a riot grrrl band — it’s invoked deliberately in the band’s music, attitude, and Bandcamp tags — but the designation should be taken with a grain of salt. “We used that term because we knew that all the nice old men would ask us if we had ever heard of Kathleen Hanna after our set,” Victoria says. “I usually say we’re a bratty punk band. We walk the line of tongue-in-cheek to serious social issues to making fun of ourselves completely.” Genre tags notwithstanding, a few things remain clear: Gravel brings authentic punk energy, and you’d be smart to watch them. Joey Dussault (Journalism)
27
Local Photos
Cadillac Three, Paradise Rock Club
Photo by Lauren Scornavacca (Engineering)
Colony House, The Sinclair
Photo by Prachi Gupta (Business)
LeAnn Rimes, The Sinclair
Photo by Lauren Scornavacca (Engineering)
Sunflower Bean, Afterhours
Photo by Nola Chen (Computer Science)
Red Hot Chili Peppers, TD Garden
Photo by Rio Phoenix (Media Arts)
JUST A TAST E O F
Trap Music Orchestra Where are you from? We all met in Boston, MA by ways of The Berklee
What other musicians are you into at the moment?
College of Music, but everyone in the band is from
Thundercat, Metro Boomin, Kareem
somewhere different; from New Orleans to Seattle,
Riggins, Anderson .Paak, The Roots,
Chicago to Virginia.
Chance the Rapper, Gucci Mane, Molly Brazy, it goes on.
How would you describe your sound? If Thad Jones and Mel Lewis could do a Sinatrafeatured concert, replace Sinatra with Future, Earth
What member of your band would you replace with a robot?
Wind & Fire lent their horns, and then did a show at
X (keyboards). Seeing a robot in his
Blue Flame on a Friday night.
clothes is comedy.
Where can people find your music? Soundcloud (ParasoulMusicGroup), Youtube (TrapMusicOrchestra), and more as we release more music.
A picture of yourselves:
33
Editorial
e h T
e h ft
o l l a F
l a v i
v e r LK
FO
“
Remember in 2008 when waistcoats, recording albums in log cabins, and shooting music videos in wheat fields were suddenly in?”
For those that may not remember, I am describing the folk music revival of the late 2000s and early 2010s, in which young musicians responded to the dawn of the iPhone with stand-up basses, mandolins and banjos. Whether you attribute it to the millennial generation’s nostalgic tendencies, a rejection of computer-generated music or the growing pains of 20-year-olds raised on rock music, the folk revival happened and seems to be pretty much over. The scene has been steadily in decline since it peaked around 2010, but 2015 seemed to be the definitive end. There have always been musical fads, but what is interesting about the birth and death of the 2000s folk revival is that the bands most heavily associated with the scene are still playing under the same names in different genres. Historically, musical genres have been closely tied to bands. When you think Spring 2017
34
punk you think Dead Kennedys or Minor Threat, when you think reggae you think Bob Marley and when you think funk you think Parliament, but what happened in the folk revival may be signaling an end to that way of thinking. To understand the folk revival’s decline, and to reevaluate the artist-to-genre relationship, I am focusing on three artists occupying different spaces in the folk scene of the 2000s: Mumford and Sons, Ben Howard and Bon Iver. Each of these artists made names for themselves with definitively acoustic albums, which they unapologetically followed up with electronic ones. Mumford and Sons was the biggest band to come out of the folk scene of the 2000s, and they were also perhaps the most committed to the aesthetic. They wore waistcoats, jean shirts and dirtied boots, they decorated their stage to resemble a charming barn and they became associated with the banjo. Besides their look, the band functioned
under a very folk ethos, traveling in vintage trains and working on collaborative projects. Even so, the band was always reluctant to be categorized as folk music; in fact, they were reluctant to be categorized as anything. When asked in interviews, they consistently denied being folk musicians, usually explaining their instrument choices by saying that style was what had their interest at the time. To the more critical, their attitude could be considered a cop out, but it’s more likely that they were being both truthful and smart in their decision to stay officially unassociated with a genre. By never referring to themselves as folk musicians, they could somewhat avoid the criticism of die-hard folk fans, and then assert that they had never called themselves folk when they went electric on their 2015 album Wilder Mind. The heat Mumford and Sons got from folk purists may help explain why they and many other members of the folk revival avoided categorizing themselves as such. Genre-specific music fans tend to be very critical of authenticity, and for most die-hard folk fans, Mumford and Sons’ London private school background didn’t quite cut it. In my experience, this purist view of music is generational: younger fans don’t seem to pay attention to genre as much as their parents do, and therefore they don’t care if their favorite banjo player is from London or Iowa. The accessibility of music through the Internet has meant a downturn in purist scenes and a generally more eclectic music fan. Your local music nerd in their twenties or thirties may find themselves at a punk show one night and a rootsy acoustic coffeehouse session the next.
These kinds of fluid fans are unlikely to be turned off by their favorite musician going in a new musical direction, as Ben Howard did with his latest album. Howard started his career with a primarily acoustic album and found himself pooled in with the folk revival scene, despite occupying a more niche “surfer-folk” category. Like Mumford, Howard was always reluctant to call himself a folk musician, holding the label at arm’s length and opting to simply play rather than try and explain himself. Howard toured his first album, Every Kingdom, for years before coming out with his second album, I Forget Where We Were. If one were to listen to his albums back to back, they would likely be startled by how different the two are. Every Kingdom is almost entirely acoustic finger-picking patterns and conjures images of summer days on the beach, while I Forget Where We Were is eons darker, utilizes electronic effects and speaks of lost love and mental panic. Despite the change in styles between albums, I have yet to hear of Howard losing any fans over it. There was no panic and barely any questioning of the change in his fan base. I attribute the ease of Howard’s transition to the openness of his “indie music” fan base. As genre blending and hopping become more prevalent, the terms “indie” and “alternative” have become umbrella terms for any music that does not fit nicely into a preconceived category. There are positives and negatives to this kind of supercategory; while it provides a home to the previously mentioned eclectic young music fans, the vagueness of the term makes it a non-descriptive descriptor. A big part of the problem with genre is that artists are no longer synonymous with a genre; instead they are jumping from one style to the other and therefore getting lumped into the indie/ alternative heading.
Bon Iver is somewhat of a poster child for indie music. His talent and slightly mysterious persona have made him an artist that is almost universally adored by the music community. His first album, For Emma, Forever Ago, will be remembered as one of the best singer-songwriter albums of the 2000s. It is emotionally raw, expertly produced and features Justin Vernon’s unique and haunting voice. The second, self-titled Bon Iver album is no less brilliant and signals his step into more elaborate production. Bon Iver still relies on Vernon’s voice, but the emotion of the record is heavily charged through electric instruments and some digital effects.
“
while Bon Iver is big on juxtaposing the might of nature and the relative fragility of humanity. Meanwhile, Mumford and Sons are still extremely collaborative and a great live band. With the rise of online streaming and music downloading services, there has been a lot of talk about the format of the album being obsolete. I would argue, however, that the album has become even more important in defining creative periods for individual artists. Acts like Mumford and Sons, Ben Howard and Bon Iver all made genre jumps with a complete album, not a single or two. The LP format is maybe less of a physical piece of art and more of a marker of time for current artists. Tours are organized by albums, genre changes from record to record and many times an artist’s view is defined per record.
Band’s identities are not as tied to a set of instruments or sounds as they are other aspects of their artistry.” If Bon Iver was Vernon dipping his toe into the production pool, his most recent album, 22, A Million, is him jumping off the high dive. The album is rampant with loops, voice effects and sampling, but it is still definitely a Bon Iver album. Justin Vernon has more than one musical persona; Bon Iver is his most famous, but he spent time working on his group Volcano Choir in between these last few albums. Volcano Choir is where he started to really use digital voice manipulation; in fact, if you listen to Volcano Choir’s last release, Repave, it bridges the stylistic gap between the first two Bon Iver albums and the new one. However, the question remains: why did Justin Vernon release this new album under the name Bon Iver? It seems to be that Bon Iver has more to do with a feeling than it does a style, and this may be the root of the problem with genre and current music. Bands’ identities are not as tied to a set of instruments or sounds as they are to other aspects of their artistry. For artists like Bon Iver and Ben Howard, subject matters and certain motifs are at the forefront of their identities. Howard consistently uses ocean imagery in his music,
In summary, the decline of the folk revival is in many ways representative of the state of music in 2017. The young music listener involved in the completely heterogeneous alternative music scene is pretty much up for anything. Bands who may become popular under one genre are able to change their sound without much negative reaction from their fanbase. Perhaps because of this listener versatility, musicians are less likely to marry themselves to a specific genre. Bands like Mumford and Sons and Ben Howard, while given the persona of folk music, did not claim it for themselves, saving themselves from being officially pigeonholed into one sound. In order to make these aesthetic jumps, musicians are utilizing the format of the album. While the physical art form may be in decline, the LP format is the tool with which musicians continue to evolve, which should calm the hysteric audiophiles mourning the death of the record. • Helen Hennessey (Political Science)
35
v
90’s Editorial
bollywood as told by a Desi Girl
The term “Bollywood” is used to refer to Hindi cinema, but not the entirety of the Indian film industry, as multiple languages are spoken within India and often the industry is split up by dialect. Bollywood has, however, had the most impact throughout South Asia and has even influenced Western culture, with popular movies like “Slumdog Millionaire” and actors who have jumped from Bollywood to Hollywood like Amitabh Bachchan and Priyanka Chopra. The soundtrack of my childhood, before pop penetrated my ear drums and angst manifested in the form of punk, was rooted in Bollywood. This was the Bollywood of the late ‘90s, full of bright pastel and stolen glances. There are two movies that hold particularly great sentimental value to me, and which also have kick-ass soundtracks. My favorite on-screen power couple of the ‘90s Bollywood scene was Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol. Shah Rukh was every small, desi girl’s future husband — we would dream of him catching our chiffon scarves in the wind or looking at us with the serious crinkle
Spring 2017
36
between his eyebrows. Though Shah Rukh is a fantastic actor, what made the couple particularly dynamic was Kajol. I’ve always regarded the singular name as almost a surefire symbol of someone’s influence as an icon (ahem, Beyoncé). Kajol and Shah Rukh had a blistering, bubbling chemistry that made every movie they were in together impossible to stop watching. “Kuch Kuch Hota Hai” (or “Something Happens” in English) was their best work together. The movie is set as a flashback, a letter from a deceased mother revealing to her daughter how she and her dad met. Kajol played the tomboyish best friend of the heartthrob (Khan) who was unfortunately in love with another girl. The daughter is sent on a mission to reunite her dad with his college best friend and lost love. If the storyline isn’t emotional enough for you, the soundtrack will really hit you in the feelings. Written by Sameer, a film
lyricist, and composed by Jatin-Lalit, this was Bollywood’s most successful soundtrack of the year. It’s important to note that in Hindi movies, actors rarely sing their own songs. Instead, vocalists provide the music, and the actors just lip-synch. The soundtrack featured famed singers like Udit Narayan and Shankar Mahadevan. The title track reflects the playfulness of friendship in the beginning of the movie, and is remastered into a slower, sadder version as a reflection of the young lovers’ separation. “Koi Mil Gaya” offers two female leads and alludes to the movie’s apparent love triangle, with the playboy seeming to repeat the same verses with both women. It’s the stuck-in-your-head sort of song that you can’t shake even if you haven’t actively listened to it in years. The other movie that was a major part of my childhood featured another celebrated Desi duo — Salman Khan and Aishwarya Rai. Aishwarya has influence — own makeup line, international icon, has been on Oprah type of influence. The pair starred in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, another movie based on a love triangle. Sameer (played by Salman Khan) and Nandini (played by Aishwarya Rai) despise each other and then fall in love. When caught planning their wedding, Nandini’s father banishes Sameer because he has already planned her wedding with someone else. Again, super complicated, super emotional. Ismail Darbar was the composer on this soundtrack, and singers Udit Narayan and Shankar Mahadevan were also featured (though Bollywood is a large industry, the notables and high-profile participants are a small crowd). I am pretty sure the entirety of the soundtrack has been played
at every South Asian wedding or otherwise celebratory function, because even with the songs that are sad and tortured, so many are lively and so much fun to dance to. “Nimbooda” and “Dholi Taro Dhol Baaje” both have incredible choreographed dance sequences in the movie, the first capturing the lighthearted love/hate of the beginning of the movie and the latter breaking through the bittersweetness later on through flashback. “Dhol Baaje” literally means to beat the wooden drum, the beats of which are ever present in the song. The movie’s title track is an astounding showing of Darbar’s ability to put together multiple instruments, from violins to traditional musical devices, in a cohesive, culminating piece as a backdrop of a rollercoaster part of the movie. Contemporary Bollywood is exciting, increasingly globalized and has songs that could be out of Hollywood had the words been in English. However, the Bollywood that started me off was the Bollywood of Shah Rukh and Kajol, of Salman and Aishwarya, of incredibly infectious music. • Mayeesha Galiba (Political Science and Journalism)
37
Album Reviews The Shins
10
Heartworms 9 Release Date March 10 Label Columbia Genre Indie Pop Tasty Tracks “Half a Million”, “So Now
8
What”, “Cherry Hearts” Reviews Spring 2017
38
7 The Shins were never as mild as their reputation. Though their oft-recounted rise to prominence may have sped along the early 2000s Starbucks-ification of indie rock, on Oh, Inverted World and Chutes Too Narrow James Mercer displayed far more stylistic versatility than the many acoustic-strummers who followed him, while his cryptic, verbose lyrics often revealed surprisingly bitter sentiments once untangled. However, after indulging his dour, experimental side on 2007’s brilliant yet divisive Wincing the Night Away, Mercer fired his band, got the gloom out of his system with Danger Mouse in Broken Bells and returned five years later with Port of Morrow, an album whose winning melodies and plainspoken declarations of love and hope signaled a kinder, gentler Shins. Five years and another moody Broken Bells album later, Heartworms finds Mercer more genial than ever. While Mercer co-produced every Shins album, Heartworms marks his first time manning the boards solo, and he takes the opportunity to make this the brightest, most colorful-sounding Shins album yet. The arrangements are stuffed full of little hooks, with keyboards taking center stage on most tracks and guitar relegated to a minor supporting role. On the bouncy “Name for You” and “Cherry Hearts,” whose ping-ponging synth gurgles and electro-pop drumbeats make them the first genuinely danceable Shins songs, Mercer sounds like he’s never had so much fun making music. After the initial barrage of candy-coated spectacle, Heartworms’ second half bears a much more diverse, organic sonic palette. Some songs are triumphant returns to old terrain, like the reverb-swathed Oh, Inverted World homage “Dead Alive” and “Mildenhall,” whose country-tinged acoustic lope recalls cozily stripped-down Shins tunes past. Then there are the tracks where Mercer tries on new musical guises; “Half a Million” imagines
Fresh
6 5 4 3 2 1
an alternate reality where Mercer fronts a kickass power-pop band, while the pretty guitar chimes and yearning falsetto chorus of “So Now What” beat Coldplay at their own game. More muted numbers like the lovesick title track and the gently panicked finale “The Fear” ensure that the comedown from the sugar high of earlier is a smooth one. On Heartworms, Mercer continues to iron out the lyrical eccentricities that once defined his work. The old Mercer was painfully introspective and prone to obscuring his feelings with a thesaurusbasically the prototypical indie dude, but smarter and more eloquent. Nowadays, Mercer would rather sing empowering songs for his daughters (“Name for You”), wax nostalgic about adolescence (“Mildenhall”) or warmly recall the feeling of falling for someone (“Heartworms”). Not to imply that he’s gone full moon-June-spoon on us; he’s still James Mercer, which means he can’t resist occasionally penning lines like “Behind your symmetry lies a fundamental difference” or filling “Dead Alive” with surrealist gobbledygook. And since Mercer’s embrace of lyrical directness has coincided
with his newfound family-man status, it lends Heartworms an endearing sweetness — except when it doesn’t. “Rubber Ballz” is the album’s biggest misstep, a flimsy melody paired with the tiresome scornedmale persona that first appeared on Port of Morrow’s “Bait and Switch.” “If she gave a fuck then it would show,” Mercer whines, and neither the curse nor the sentiment sounds right coming out of his otherwise wellmannered mouth. It’s a tired cliché that personal happiness is the enemy of good art, and yet with Heartworms, Mercer has not let his hard-won optimism stop him from making his fifth straight excellent Shins album. If anything, Mercer’s sunny outlook has expanded his music, opening up a whole new spectrum of sounds and styles which he can use as delivery systems for those sweet, sweet melodies. Heartworms won’t scratch the same itches as Chutes or Wincing, but its breezy charms make it a feel-good album par excellence. Terence Cawley (Biology)
10 9 8 7
Fresh
6 5 4 3 2 1
Thundercat Drunk Release Date February 24 Label Brainfeeder Records Genre Funk, Jazz Tasty Tracks “Show You the Way (feat. Michael McDonald & Kenny Loggins),” “Walk On By (feat. Kendrick Lamar),” “Them Changes (feat. Flying Lotus & Kamasi Washington)” Even if you don’t know the name, odds are you’ve heard Stephen Bruner’s masterful bass playing on renowned albums like Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly and Kamasi Washington’s The Epic. He has shown time and time again that he is one of the most versatile and talented recording musicians today. His new album under the moniker Thundercat proves that he can create mainstream hits without sacrificing his unique sound and style. Breaking out of obscurity in 2011 with his first album The Golden Age of Apocalypse, Cat gave us lighthearted, soulful funk with his wavering falsetto and astonishingly fast finger picking. The album had an ability to snare you in a groove that would have you humming the melody for days to come. Sadly, this could not be similarly said for his following releases: the 2013 album Apocalypse lacked on the production side, and the 2015 EP The Beyond /Where the Giants Roam offered only a small sample of what Brunner brings to the table. The fact that he was giving amazing feature appearances to artists like Flying Lotus and
Erykah Badu just rubbed salt in the wound that his best solo work might have been released six years ago. This new release successfully throws that thought in the trash. Containing 23 tracks and production polished to a tee, Drunk features guest appearances from top rappers, jazz virtuosos, massively influential producers and ‘80s legends. It is by far Cat’s most ambitious project to date. Even so, it is far from his most serious. With tracks like “Captain Stupido” talking about masturbation and leaving wallets at the club, and “A Fan’s Mail (Tron Song II)” having Bruner meow for a minute straight, one could easily be put off by the sheer oddity of it all. This album is all over the place musically and thematically. Usually I would be very put off by this, but Thundercat has this uncanny ability to know exactly when a song has worn out its welcome and avoids that at all costs (with the exception of “Inferno;” I have no idea why he lets it meander for so long). Even though this is the best work that Thundercat has released in recent years, it is by no means flawless. The tracks with features seem to be a step above the rest. It isn’t a problem with consistency (there was none to begin with), but with musical direction. Only five or six tracks could really be considered fully thought out songs, with the rest being quick motifs and grooves that seem to flutter out. A prime example of this would be the song “Blackkk”: it has one of the catchiest synth riffs on the album, but right when the song seems to be building to something, it moves on to the next track without resolving the chord progression. While I commend Thundercat on his ability to create so many catchy tunes, I don’t see why he can’t focus on a select few and see them to fruition instead of having them abruptly end. There are a lot of songs that could sound amazing with the addition of a simple refrain or a bridge that would give it just a little bit more depth. But even when listening to those short tracks, I was still entranced. Thundercat’s musicianship is mind boggling, and Drunk is a display of a master instrumentalist making wonderful tunes. Quinton Hubbell (Engineering)
10 9 8
Fresh
7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Ty Segall Ty Segall Release Date January 27 Label Drag City Genre Psychedelic Rock Tasty Tracks “The Only One”, “Orange Color Queen”, “Take Care (To Comb Your Hair)” Ty Segall has never limited himself to a single genre. As someone rooted in psychedelic rock with a hint of beachy grunge-punk, his musical style has always seemed on par with bands like Wavves and FIDLAR. Yet, somehow, Segall’s new self-titled album is even more exploratory than his previous works — in many ways, it pushes his preexisting musical boundaries and forces his listeners to question if his music can be labeled at all. Staying true to his roots, Ty Segall is a string of rock-based tracks that venture into various subgenres. This album truly showcases Segall’s mastery of the many subcategories of rock, suggesting that his talents go beyond what his already diverse and renowned body of work might lead us to believe. The most classically Ty Segall track on this album is “The Only One.” It’s grungy, featuring a highly distorted guitar, classic grunge rock chord progressions and a very impressive guitar solo, all on top of powerful yet familiar drums that hold the song together. On the other end of the spectrum is “Orange Color Queen,” a song that breaks free from Segall’s usual grunge flare. It’s a slow-paced, acoustic track that features engaging musical choices and contemplative
39
Reviews Spring 2017
40
lyrics like “Oh, you’re my orange lady/Oh, you’re the silver lips of honey/ Oh, you’re my cherry fizzle sundae/Oh, you’re a tree inside of an airplane.” It is perhaps the most poporiented song that Segall has ever written, while keeping a foothold in his rock roots through many of the song’s guitar riffs and drum patterns. While this album certainly deserves high praise, the four-minute musical interlude housed in the middle of the album’s third song, “Warm Hands (Freedom Returned),” is a bit jarring. It’s freeform and erratic, and unfortunately doesn’t mesh with the relaxed yet structured pattern of the rest of this song. It does however feature some thoughtprovoking and engaging lyrics with classic Ty Segall guitar riffs and chord progressions. Given Segalls’s unique style and how classically this song fits that mold, a guitar solo would have been a better fit. This song also has a hint of a Beatles influence, which is particularly strong in the style and tone of Ty’s voice. However, the interlude completely undermines this otherwise beautiful tribute to a legendary band. Thankfully, we see some more of that Beatles-esque influence in the next track, “Talkin’,” as well as in “Papers,” especially in the light guitar and piano melodies looping in the background. These songs reek of the British Invasion in a revelatory way, while still containing enough psychedelic rock to be distinctly Ty Segall. Ty Segall truly is a showcase of Segall’s many artistic and musical capabilities. Not one song on this album is disastrous or unlistenable, not even the album’s final song, “Untitled,” that is simply a single chord. In fact, every song on this album is engaging while still drawing strong ties to Segall’s inimitable style. It seems the end of his sixyear musical hiatus was the cause of a revival and of immense inspiration. I’d wait another six years if it meant we would see an album of the same artistic caliber and flare as Ty Segall. It gives agency to its listeners, allowing us to be moved by the sounds before us. In this album, Segall gives us the ability to insert our own meaning in his music and its lyrics, to freely interpret what he has set before us. It proves that after ten years on the music scene, Ty Segall still knows how to create dynamic music that not only defies genre, but defies the man creating it. This, I must say, is a musical force to be reckoned with. Rachel Ellis (Undeclared)
10
Future Future
9 8 7
Release Date February 17, 2017 Label Epic, A1, Freebandz Genre Rap Tasty Tracks “Mask Off,” “Rent Money,” “Flip” Future is an incredibly consistent artist. When you hear a Future song or verse, you immediately know you’re listening to Future. His new 17-track, self-titled, no-features album does nothing to change that. Having such a distinct style is not necessarily a bad thing, but when you’ve released the quantity of music that he has in the past two years, sticking to one sound is tiresome. The sampling on this album is slightly more imaginative and more melodic than Evol or DS2, but the beats and production are hardly groundbreaking. I’ll say it again: Future is consistent. The verses on the album are solid, but the content does not venture beyond anything he has not discussed before. The lyrics do not reach the depth of DS2 nor the intensity of Evol. The album as a whole is exactly what you thought it would be. The opening track, “Rent Money,” parallels the melodrama of the self-titled album, with its religious backdrop and plethora of “Fuck you’s.” It introduces the crime trope present throughout the album by referencing famous gangsters like Al Capone and John Gotti by name. “Red bottoms with the fur like Frank Luc/ I bought some VVS and she caught the chain flu” speaks to the payout from a successful smuggle and is a clever couplet in itself. After this, the album calms down a bit production-wise, but the lyrics stay just as aggressive. “Mask Off” is a standout track. We see a piece of DS2 Future slightly hardened and undecided regarding his vulnerability. The entire track has Future deciding, “Mask on, fuck it, mask off,” but what he is specifically debating is unclear. Is it his relationship with drugs, women or money? Or is he literally deciding whether to commit a crime anonymously? The line “My guillotine, drank promethazine/Tec and beams, go to those extremes” discusses his issues with drugs and crime back to back, leaving the listener wondering. Its hook hits hard, featuring repetitive, quotable lyrics and a distinctly haunting sample from The “Selma” Album, making Future’s reflection of himself even more poignant.
6 Edible
5 4 3 2 1
The album’s subject matter is at its best very self-centered, which I guess is to be expected when you rap alone for over an hour. As previously mentioned, Future is struggling with the extent of vulnerability he is comfortable with. He hides behind the façade of his money and success using drugs and women to bolster himself on tracks like “Good Dope” and “I’m so Groovy.” He is bragging away his insecurities — an incredibly stale angle in rap. The “no feature” shtick feels very much like an ego boost and a cop-out for publicity. Ultimately, the lack of other artists made the project a bit exhausting to listen to, especially considering that this is the fifth full-length piece he has released since 2015. He did not need this album to stay relevant or popular, so the lack of innovation is even more disappointing. It is obvious that this trend is poised to continue, as this review was not even finished before he released his next album, HNDRXX. HNDRXX, for context’s sake, is another name for him, continuing the strain of egocentricity in his more recent projects. While Future has never shied away from putting himself at the center of his music, it has always been to showcase a bigger picture: to personify the culture of Atlanta trap, or to reveal the darker realities of a classic luxury rapper. However, this album is much more self-indulgent, and the release of the more radio-friendly HNDRXX does raise some concern, as he continues to stray from authenticity for the sake of attention. It seems as if Future is at somewhat of a crossroads, and that we will hear plenty more from him as he figures it out. Joanna Moore (Business Finance / Entrepreneurship)
CULTURE HUB
T U R N E D
CAMPUS CORNER This past September, I had the privilege of exploring the Beantown Jazz Festival, which took place between Mass Ave. and Davenport St. on Columbus Ave. I thought about how cool it was that this was happening so close to where I lived, and wondered why we were so lucky. I quickly learned that there was a reason this celebration took place essentially on Northeastern’s campus and realized that I was probably one of many, many students who was unaware of the culture that used to, and still does, to some extent, inhabit our beloved Columbus Ave. The street where sophomores walk bleary-eyed to their 8 a.m.’s is the same one as the epicenter of the Boston jazz scene for most of the 20th century. I invite you to travel back in time, pre-New York Pizza and Dougy P, and explore the incredible people and places that weaved Boston’s musical fabric, influencing the progression of American music along the way. Back in the 1930s, jazz littered Columbus Ave., Mass Ave. and Tremont St. It seemed as if a new club was opening every day. Some of the most important spots were Wally’s Paradise, Eddie’s Cafe, AFM Local 535’s Union Hall and The Hi-Hat. These clubs turned over and changed names several times in the decades of their prominence, but one thing always remained: their affinity for jazz. Local and national musicians alike took their turns playing these Boston hotspots, creating a strong community of predominantly black musicians in Roxbury and the South End. Wally’s Cafe, located at 428 Mass Ave., has some major staying power — it’s still there! The location was originally a club called Little Harlem and then became Little Dixie. In 1947, Joseph Walcott opened
41
Feature Spring 2017
42
Wally’s Paradise, which now goes by Wally’s Cafe. And if a seventyyear-old family-owned jazz nightclub isn’t impressive enough for you, read on. Wally’s thrived solely on local talent and neighborhood patrons. Boston Jazz bands and musicians cycled through the club and provided it with an evergreen repertoire. Sunday jam sessions became a popular pastime in the neighborhood, so even when well-known surrounding clubs like Eddie’s and the Hi-Hat drew national artists, Wally’s remained popular playing good old local jazz. Amazingly, the club never really progressed into newer genres, and is still playing jazz and blues today. Israel E. Levine, more commonly known as Eddie, ran the Little Harlem nightclub that inhabited 428 Mass Ave. before Wally’s did. When the club closed, Eddie moved across the street to a much smaller location and opened Eddie’s Musical Lounge, or Eddie’s Café, located at 425 Mass Ave. He promoted the club as the most intimate nightclub in Boston, and employed Dean Earl, a pianist who had been with him since the Little Harlem Orchestra across the street. Earl was an incredible accompanist, and Eddie’s was the singers’ club. By the 1950s, calypso music had become popular, and Eddie’s embraced this trend. Eventually, the club was shut down for licensing reasons and reopened as The Wigwam for a few years. Although many famous
Local 535’s Union Hall was the meeting place for Boston’s black chapter of the American Federation of Musicians. 535 was established in 1915, when black musicians realized they wanted their own union that coincided with their priorities. At this time, black musicians were playing all of the jazz that existed. In 1939, they moved into Union Hall at 409 Mass Ave., right off Columbus. Although there was no official performance space, auditions, rehearsals and jam sessions packed the first floor all day. 535’s card-carrying members filled all the clubs on Mass Ave. and Columbus. Once a year they came together for the Spring Ball, held in Butler’s Hall or Ruggles Hall, both formerly located on Columbus Ave. Ultimately, in 1968, Local 535 was forced to merge with Boston’s white Local 9, and the Mass Ave location was sold shortly after. Donned “the busiest jazz club on the busiest corner,” and “America’s Smartest Barbeque,” The Hi-Hat opened in 1937 at 572 Columbus to an all-white audience. Its owner, Julie Rhodes, had no interest in connecting with the neighborhood around him due to the threat of a tarnished reputation. And as jazz gained popularity, the desire to showcase the genre and its black musicians at the club was purely financial. Rhodes truly had no taste in music: he was more involved with the chicken that the club served and how much
musicians passed through the Wigwam, the popularity of Eddie’s was never restored, and was closed for good shortly following Eddie’s death in 1961.
money came in at the end of the night. One of the first bands he hired included a man by the name of Sabby Lewis, who fortunately took the musical dealings out of Rhodes’ hands. At this point, it didn’t matter
to him what the race of the musician was, only that he was popular and would draw a crowd. So, Lewis, an incredible musician in his own right, suggested all the best, and Rhodes would agree. One observer noted that Lewis would come to Rhodes and suggest someone so well-known and obviously unique as Charlie “Bird” Parker, and Rhodes would blindly accept with no inkling of just how good Parker was. By 1948, The Hi-Hat had become a full-fledged jazz club. Their jam sessions, which were modeled after Wally’s, were important in the development of the jazz genre as a whole. For anyone interested in innovative jazz, there was no better place to play. In the beginning, mostly Boston musicians played the club, but eventually it became nationally renowned as a “name-band” club. It was the first Boston club to house Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Thelonius Monk, Charlie Parker, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday and Count Basie’s Sextet, to name just a few. When these famous black musicians came to town to play the Hi-Hat, there was almost no access to hotel rooms, so they were welcomed into homes in Roxbury and the South End. One of the most common places to stay was the stretch of Mass Ave. from Columbus to Tremont. It was common to see these people walking around the block and jamming in living rooms. It was as if these streets were
be attributed to shows that were recorded and played on the radio, helping to widen its reach. It was a revolutionary form of marketing for a nightclub playing predominantly black music. Unfortunately, the success came to a screaming halt when the building burned down in December of 1955. However, the legacy was not forgotten, and popular musicians, Hi-Hat alumni from Boston and beyond continued to pay tribute to this important spot with performances in surrounding clubs. Incredibly enough, these locations and stories are only a handful of the dozens of jazz havens and legends that used to grace the back end of what is now Northeastern. And though they were closed for mostly arbitrary reasons, each loss contributed to the final death of Columbus and Mass as a refuge for art in our city. There are windows back in time, like Wally’s, but for the most part, these stories are forgotten and swept under the rug. The blocks that gave budding black musicians a place to be heard and celebrated are no longer, and the streets’ new inhabitants, us, have no use for the history lesson. But I like to believe the culture survives to some extent in the few spots that remain, in the houses that are unchanged, and in celebrations like the Beantown Jazz Festival, where the ghosts of music-past can relive the glory days of Boston jazz.
constantly infused with the exciting aura of jazz. And eventually, they were, thanks to radio. Part of the national success of the Hi-Hat can
• Joanna Moore (Business Administration/Finance)
43
Editorial In 2008, Katy Perry made her way into the limelight with her breakthrough album One of the Boys, where she embraced the heterosexist persona of a girl who is “different from the others” because she “gets” what it’s like to be (the hegemonic masculine persona of) a guy’s guy, dirty jokes, sports, casual homophobia and all. The shocking outcome of this act was that Perry could make herself appealing to bigots while simultaneously maintaining a public image of progressiveness. Although Perry is just one of a vast ecosystem of pop artists, she epitomizes the nature in which queer aesthetics have been usurped by the pop music industry. Pop music has in recent years demonstrated a fascination with nonheterosexual and non-cisgender subject matter. Katy Perry showed us one type of fascination held with her song “I Kissed a Girl,” describing a bi-curious encounter between Perry and an unnamed woman. The song featured lyrics which were ridiculed by many gay people for fetishizing non-hetero relationships, making them seem like bouts
Spring 2017
44
of sexual veracity that are only valid if it’s not actually love. Perry has of course denied this characterization, but it’s not the only appearance of anti-queer sentiment on her album. Perry also sang “Ur So Gay,” using stereotypes of gay men to emasculate the ex-boyfriend who is the subject of the song. Thus, it becomes clear that Perry is merely performing an act, using queerness as a means of shock. The type of queer-bashing enacted in the song “Ur So Gay” is far from a novelty, being widely used in the pop industry today. Ke$ha used the image of a man with a vagina to berate a lover for not being “man enough” in her 2010 song “Grow a Pear,” much at the expense of trans men for whom the song can be seen as an attack on identity. The use of queerness as the butt of a joke in pop music has become commonplace, and its use by female pop stars to create a message of empowerment is hauntingly familiar to second-wave feminism. Even when non-queer pop artists attempt to demonstrate queer-positive messaging within their music, it can easily
The use of queerness as the butt of a joke in pop music has become commonplace.
become diluted or problematic. Take, for example, Hozier’s “Take Me to Church.” Written as a venting of frustration with the Catholic Church’s views on homosexuality, “Take Me to Church” uses religious terminology to describe a bleak outlook on a damned love. The song was accompanied by a music video following the love story of two gay men, one of whom becomes the victim of a violent hate crime while the other watches. It appears to be a genuine act in the name of ally culture; however, it is not free of problems, the main one being that this may not be Hozier’s story to tell. In the actual lyrics of the song, a heterosexual relationship is described, with Hozier using she/her/hers pronouns (he himself identifies as a straight man). Although it has been argued that these pronouns were used to describe the church, not a lover, on the lyric site Genius, Hozier himself has verified the lyrical interpretation of the song as about an actual woman, who is then being described with religious vocabulary. Furthermore, even if Hozier had used pronouns to represent a gay relationship, would it even be his narrative to tell? The buzz surrounding “Take Me to Church” served as a huge springboard for Hozier’s mainstream career. Thus, it is
The relationship between queer people and music made by straight people should be one of normalization, not bashing or profiteering. imperative that we understand, whether it was the original intent or not, that “Take Me to Church” uses the aesthetics of pain and antagonism faced by gay couples to ultimately commercially benefit a straight artist. Ally culture shouldn’t benefit from queer pain socially or monetarily, nor should it appropriate narratives that can be told by queer artists. This of course doesn’t mean that cisgender and straight artists should avoid queer subject matter altogether, but the relationship between queer people and music made by straight people should be one of normalization, not bashing or profiteering. Going the extra mile, however, would be to shine more light on actual queer artists. Troye Sivan has recently started making strides in the pop industry, receiving fame and publicity from the likes of Adele and Taylor Swift, and he has used his platform to
bring LBTQ+ issues to the forefront of debate in the pop industry. Sam Smith has achieved international acclaim while simultaneously being both open about and singing about his sexuality. Smaller acts like PWR BTTM pioneer the ownership of queer aesthetics in pop music. Supporting queer acts instead of those that exploit their aesthetics guarantees a culture of progress in the pop industry. Similarly, choosing to support acts that participate in this exploitation acts to drive a culture of regression. Paying attention to how the music we listen to has a greater cultural effect than just being a nice song means that eventually we can ensure that we only keep moving forward.
›› The song “I Kissed A Girl” featured lyrics which were ridiculed by many gay people for fetishizing non-hetero relationships, making them seem like bouts of sexual veracity that are only valid if it’s not actually love.
• Nikolas Greenwald (Chemical Engineering)
›› “Take Me to Church” takes advantage of the pain and antagonism gay couples face and benefits a straight artist in the end. 45
the four peaks of
andrew bird nti pre ap
Etcetera Spring 2017
46
Andrew Bird is the 21st century’s version of the folk-rock legends of the 1960s. He boasts the song-weaving and musical talents of Simon & Garfunkel, but includes his intense level of diversity as both a writer and a musician. Trained in the Suzuki method since the age of four, and graduating from Northwestern with a degree in violin performance, Bird had no intention of earning a living by playing in various orchestras for his entire career. He immediately moved himself towards performing with his own bands, setting out on tour with the folk collective Squirrel Nut Zippers, gaining an initial level of commercial exposure before beginning his own projects in the years to follow. Andrew Bird released his first album Music of Hair in 1996, the same year that he graduated from Northwestern University, later moving on to form Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire, his primary musical vehicle until 2003. Had he remained on the trajectory laid out by his early work, his career would have reached its apex within a few years, with a guest spot on “A Prairie Home Companion” doing duets with Garrison Keillor while Todd Keith made sound effects over Bird’s violin, forever spreading around the folk festival circuit of the United States. Andrew Bird was eventually a guest on “A Prairie Home Companion” during his career, 21 years after his debut album when the traveling radio program spun through Chicago in 2017. Instead of offering a refined version of the violin and guitar based pieces from his roots, listeners were treated to a master craftsman of modern folk music, boasting an incredible innovative and diverse catalog that evolved over more than two decades of performing and writing music.
ce
by david mcdevitt (international relations/economics)
Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire produced three albums during its six-year tenure, each of them taking on a different combination of ragtime sounds, swing ballads, and jazz and folk-infused rock. The first two records from the Bowl of Fire, 1998’s Thrills and 2000’s Oh! The Grandeur!, sound extremely reminiscent of old vaudeville acts, filtered to sound as if the album itself is being played through a phonograph. They are comprised of folk ballads mixed with jazz horns and Bird’s early lyrical work, which weaved folk tales into verse that he would sing over the bouncing of a standup bass and an old big band styled drummer. Rotating solos similar to the style of jazz quartets made up multiple tracks on each album, creating records sold as nostalgia pieces rather than inventive works. 2003’s The Swimming Hour began to see a shift in Bird’s approach. The album shows first attempts at combining his nostalgic sound with modern rock elements, including guitars taking a more central role in melodies, and the coloring of chaotic rock phrases with his fiddle (a practice that would be sharpened to highlight some of his later work.)
rne ym an jou
The albums that Bird released with Bowl of Fire failed to catch much attention outside of a few praises by online music critics. In a New York Times interview, Bird describes the tours as disheartening, where they would be playing for crowds of 40 people and barely making enough money to have a drink at the end of the night. In 2002, a gig in Chicago opening for the husband and wife folk duo The Handsome Family introduced Bird to a new stylistic direction. With the rest of the Bowl of Fire being unable to attend the show, Bird went out on stage by himself, with only his violin and a looping pedal. “I was worried they were all thinking: Where’s the band?” Bird recalls in the interview. The positive reception by the crowd encouraged him to move in a different direction. Andrew Bird’s Bowl of Fire broke up shortly after, and he immediately began work on his 2003 solo debut, Weather Systems. “I was getting ready to be a threat”: the first words spoken on Bird’s 2005 album The Mysterious Production of Eggs carry an odd literal truth to it. Eggs, the first album to find both a commercial and critical footing, was where Bird began to standout from the crowd. Preceded by the 2003’s Weather Systems along with 2004’s addition to the Fingerlings collection, neither of which stood strongly alone as albums, they served as stepping-stones towards his future work. Weather Systems, in line with its impression as a stepping stone, contained prototypes of songs that would rise to be centerpieces of his next two full length records, including early versions of “Sovay’ “Skin, Is My”, and a live version of “MX Missiles” off of The Mysterious Production of Eggs, and an early demo of “Imitosis” from 2007’s Armchair Apocrypha.
Bird starts to stand out by sharpening some of the techniques that made The Swimming Hour his most successful album to date. The dancing fiddle over crashing rock beats that appeared in tracks such as “Two Way Action” off of The Swimming Hour reappear in peak form, as the humming that is the centerpiece of the chorus “Fake Palindromes”. The Mysterious Production of Eggs could have essentially been the perfect Bowl of Fire album, with stronger lyrical maneuvering and better musical diversity than what was originally presented on The Swimming Hour. Keeping with Bird’s trajectory of growth, 2006 began with the same prototyping process that built The Mysterious Production of Eggs, with the EP Soldier On and Fingerlings 3 carrying early versions of songs that would later become parts of 2007’s Armchair Apocrypha. Guitars became more electric, and carry a larger portion of the melodic weight, as well as more effectively dancing between Bird’s lyrics, exemplified in “Plasticities” and “Heretics”. Bird also expanded the presence of his whistling as a means of creating a melodic backdrop, and even reintroduced some of the swingdrumming styles that were present in the early Bowl of Fire albums, adjusted to match with electric guitars and more contemporary styled choruses. Commercially, The Mysterious Production of Eggs and Armchair Apocrypha put Bird’s name in a spotlight, earning high critical praise. His live performances would go on to include a full live band with the looping techniques that initiated the second phase of his career.
47
ar tis an
Etcetera
Instant success could have been extremely detrimental for Bird’s career, setting no precedent for him to adjust his sound as he moved forward with his work. The forced adaptation after the Bowl of Fire years, and the stumbled-upon new direction brought about by the band’s breakup kept Bird in a growth mindset, even as his career began to see some serious success. From 2008 onward, Bird’s name was in demand across contemporary music circles. He began contributing to the New York Times “Measure for Measure” column that focused on the songwriting process of famous musicians. He appeared in Nigel Godrich’s “From the Basement” performance series alongside Fleet Foxes and Radiohead, playing hits from Armchair Apocrypha. 2009’s Noble Beast and 2012’s Break It Yourself accelerated this momentum. Now a fully-equipped modern folk star, Bird began expanding his work into other shapes, while also letting some of his earliest influences
discography
Spring 2017
48
reappear in a refined from in his later work. Both albums build off the electronics and other instruments that separated Armchair Apocrypha from the pack, but with a better grasp of the bluegrass and waltz techniques that influenced his earliest work. Bird also started to practice a stronger level of genre fluidity, switching influences in the middle of songs such as “Danse Caribe”, off of Break It Yourself, which jumps from a folk ballad to a bluegrass round halfway through the song. After singing with Mom+Pop Records in 2011, Bird expanded his repertoire into soundtracking films with his first ever instrumental score for the movie Norman. Bird was also a contributing member to the soundtrack of the 2011 modern reimagining of The Muppets with “Whistling Caruso” and his arrangement of “Bein’ Green”.
ter as m
By 2012, Andrew Bird’s name had been established as one of the most versatile talents in contemporary folk music, and his string of releases from 2013-2016 showed that versatility at its tightest form. I Want To See Pulaski At Night, the 2013 EP, was a 30-minute solo record featuring Bird, his violin, and a looping pedal, structured around building into and deescalating from the melodies that comprise the centerpiece “Pulaski At Night”. Following Pulaski was a return to his inspirational roots with 2014’s Things Are Really Great Here, Sort Of…, an album of covers of longtime friends and collaborators The Handsome Family; their slot as the opening act in 2002 became the catalyst for the evolution of Bird’s career. 2015 was marked by the first release of the Echolocations series, Echolocations: Canyons, which Bird intends to complete with four additional installments: River, City, Lake, and Forest. Echolocations: Canyons is an entirely
instrumental collection of his works, all of which symbolize nature channeled through Bird’s direct environment as the album was recorded at the bottom of the Coyote Gulch Canyons in Utah. Are You Serious, Andrew Bird’s eighth full length solo LP, and his first since getting married and having his first child, is a culmination of the development that has occurred throughout Bird’s career, spanning nearly two decades at this point. It featured the best elements of all his previous work, from his fine-tuned whistling, to a mixture of electric guitar and folk elements in all of his pieces. He even has an excellent duet with Fiona Apple on “Left-Handed Kisses”, which he details in an interview with Stereogum: “My inclination was to write a song about why I can’t write a simple love song. The song began as an internal dialogue,” Bird says of the track. “At first it was just my voice. Then another voice came creeping in and I thought ‘this should be a duet if I can find the right person.”
49
Etcetera
IN DEFENSE OF:
ONE BY ONE
Spring 2017
50
It’s easy for music critics to categorize Foo Fighters as “Dad Rock”: it’s a thoughtless, wide-ranging label that describes any type of rock band remotely reminiscent of the past, and one that makes any writer look at least a little clever. But honestly, in recent memory, Foo Fighters haven’t been doing much to break this identity. By taking a look at their latest efforts, from Wasting Light to Sound City: Reel to Reel to Sonic Highways, it seems the band can’t make an album without also making a lame, self-congratulatory documentary about it. Clearly, they aren’t afraid to try every cash grab in the book. What’s worse is the fact that the band needed a shake-up so badly they had to record Sonic Highway’s 8 songs in 8 different studios across the country — and it still sounded like the same “Dad Rock” that their past 3 albums did. It wasn’t always this way. At one point, Foo Fighters were the epitome of a powerful, passionate, innovative rock group, and if it wasn’t for their recent accent into everyone’s Home Box Office, they might still be remembered as such. They first rose to fame in the late 90’s with a string of albums that cemented them as one of the best new rock bands of the time. In 2002 they released their fourth album One by One, which sold well but many considered a step back. The album couldn’t have come at a more troubling time in the band’s history. After extended touring, drummer Taylor Hawkins suffered a heroin overdose and the band decided to take some time off for recovery. They then reassembled and began to work on recording their next album. However, after working in two different studios and spending around one million dollars, the band was not satisfied with the finished product and decided to scrap everything they had done. As frustration built, the future of the Foo Fighters was unclear. Nevertheless, upon reuniting for their presumed final show at the Coachella music festival they decided to continue work on the album. Within the span of about two weeks they rerecorded One by One with alternate versions and added tracks, and this urgency can be heard all over the album.
Track by track, the album is one of their strongest and heaviest. With supermassive hits like “All My Life” and “Times Like These,” it’s easy to forget just how good the rest of the songs are too. Songs like “Low” and “Have it All” as well as the brooding ballad “Tired of You” prove that the sound of the album couldn’t be darker. It’s clear that Grohl drew some inspiration from his time with Queens of the Stone Age and maybe even Nirvana as well. Regardless, One by One isn’t without it’s clunkers, as songs like “Halo” and “Come Back” seem to drag on for years. But with hidden gems like “Disenchanted Lullaby” and “Lonely as You,” both of which seem to hit hard out of nowhere, the Foo’s are at their most unrestrained and powerful. One by One was genre defying at the time of its release. Condemned for being overproduced and shallow, it proved that punk rock records could still be rugged and raw even if they didn’t sound like they were recorded out of a suitcase. With this idea, countless others began to follow suit. Bands like The Vines, Jet and The Hives all joined in with the Foo Fighters proving that you could still play cool rock music even if you recorded it with Pro Tools. People always thought Foo Fighters were cool because they won a Grammy for their third album There is Nothing Left to Lose, having only recorded it in their basement. But that’s not the case: Foo Fighters are cool because they make good music. As we look back at rock history, this album certainly belongs nowhere at the top. However, it was essential in forming the sound of rock music in the 2000s. As I grew up, I too forgot about One by One; however, it couldn’t be better upon rediscovery. • Zac Kerwin (Music Industry)
TASTEMAKERS PRESENTS
Cymbals Eat Guitars Photo by Nola Chen (Computer Science)
SPOTIFY PLAYLIST We’ve compiled a playlist with songs from each article. See if you can guess which songs correspond to each article! Find the playlist at: sptfy.com/1O0m
1. “Culture” — Migos DJ Khaled 2. “El Chupa Nibre” — Danger Doom 3. “Reagan” — Killer Mike 4. “Re: Stacks” — Bon Iver 5. “33 ‘GOD’” — Bon Iver 6. “Armando’s Rhumba” — Chick Corea 7. “Times Like These” — Foo Fighters 8. “I Kissed a Girl” — Katy Perry 9. “I Wanna Boi” — PWR BTTM
FIND KANYE
10. “Kuch Kuck Hota Hai” — Jatin-Lalit Udit Narayan 11. “IT G MA Remix” — Keith Ape f. A$AP Ferg 12. “Look At Me!” — Xxxtentacion 13. “Tables and Chairs” — Andrew Bird 14. “Say Yes” — Elliott Smith 15. “No Problem” — Chance the Rapper f. Lil Wayne 16. “Levanta e Anda” — Emicida Rael 17. “Everything 1k” — Kodak Black
FOLLOW US We’ve hidden Yeezy somewhere in this issue. Find him and maybe something cool will happen...
Like what you read? Check us out online. tastemakersmag.com @tastemakersmag
51