When J-Pop Met Heavy Metal | 19 The Power of the Mixtape 38

Most people think they have a grasp on what a boy band is: heavily marketed, cliche, and embarrassing to listen to. This oversimplifies the history behind what has become an institution within the music industry, and many iconic bands have pioneered what it means to be a boy band. Although current fans may be reluctant to admit it, the Beatles were a boy band. Giving rise to the modern pop-rock scene, the group produced 12 hit studio albums and went on four massively successful world tours at the peak of Beatlemania. In contrast, the Rolling Stones cultivated an image as the “bad-boy band” due to their influence on grunge and hard rock. In spite of their more mature aesthetics, Boyz II Men and Brockhampton are also boy bands that helped shift the narrative behind the genre expectations of such groups.

Technically speaking, any band composed wholly of maleidentifying artists can be defined as a boy band, but this idea has been rejected by fans across all genres and eras. Factors like marketing and target demographics clearly play a role in feeding negative perceptions, as certain groups are labelled by the industry as “boy bands,” while others are simply thought of as “bands.” Categorically, “boy band”-ish music is usually bubblegum pop, often with cliche lyrics and standard melodies. The members are often portrayed as immature womanizers, and held under strict media scrutiny for their every action because of their young, impressionable audiences. How did the label “boy band” get such a negative connotation, and how have groups, like The Beatles and Jackson 5 in the past, and BTS and Brockhampton today, begun to change the narrative? To understand the modern state of the boy band, one must start with their predecessors. The Beatles broke onto the scene in the early 1960s. Before winning ten Grammys (including the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award), an Oscar, and three BRITs, the now-iconic band was dismissed as a boy band, perhaps the world’s first. Ironically enough, critics today debate this classification, since “boy band” is not easily defined. However, their early pop sound and audience composed largely of teenage girls are enough for many to place them within the definition of a boy band, even if their music doesn’t fit into the variety of pop associated with the modern boy band. The Beatles innovated pop and rock music, incorporating new facets like country, folk-pop, and psychedelia as they built their discography. They took music itself into a new realm, and the culture as a whole gained respect for their practice — the Beatles were the first entertainers to become Members of the British Empire (a prestigious award typically reserved for civic leaders and veterans) under Queen Elizabeth II.

In the same era, the group The Monkees were created for the purpose of crafting a TV show about the wacky adventures of a boy band, a concept that was inspired by the success of films released by the Beatles. Group members had backgrounds in either music or acting, and their TV show ultimately won recognition in both the television and music industries. However, their history isn’t all peachy: members had minimal control over their destinies, as they weren’t

able to play instruments in recording sessions or write their own songs. Their TV show was at the mercy of industry executives, leading to the group’s demise when the series failed to get renewed.

The idea of marketing to teen girls, who in turn form parasocial relationships with the band members, is central to the existence of the boy band. This concept is reflected in the modern era by merchandise marketed specifically to young girls at Claire’s and in toy aisles. .Carefully scripted concerts and social media interactions also allowed for the cultivation of these false relationships, boosting sales for the companies holding stakes in a boy band’s image. Ironically, the fabrication behind the bands of the era gave the Monkees the moniker of “Pre-Fab Four,” mocking their origins as an industry plant.

The brothers of the soul-pop group Jackson 5 dominated the charts in the late 60s and early 70s. Their lead vocalist, Michael Jackson, was only 11 years old at the time he took on the role. Their music was wildly successful, producing ten studio albums and six tours. At the same time, The Osmonds were a family band thrust into the spotlight by a TV show, a la the Monkees. Donny Osmond, the youngest brother, was made into the frontman, likely as a move to appeal to the audience of young girls. These boy bands asserted youth and family as key marketing tactics, capitalizing on the close-knit bond and apparent innocence of members, as well as their ability to relate to a young audience.

Additionally, Menudo was a Puerto Rican iteration of the boy band that made the importance of youth obvious, rotating members as they got older so the group itself was eternally young. While it is clear that their existence was a cash-grab for producer Edgardo Díaz, they brought Latin American music into a global spotlight, launching the future careers of artists such as Ricky Martin and Marc Anthony.

Singers of boy bands have consistently had massively successful individual careers following the disbanding of their original groups, notably Michael Jackson and Ricky Martin. Both may not have gotten the exposure that led to their later fame if it weren’t for their origins in boy bands which afforded them marketing teams and massive audiences.

New Kids on the Block evolved the concept of the boy band by setting a precedent for artistic input from performers. NKOTB initially failed at producing a bubblegum pop record, due to the fact that managers typically hired songwriters and performers separately, posing the band as a brand rather than a collection of artists. The concept of boy bands breeding independent singer-songwriters led the industry into the golden era of the boy band in the 1990s. NKOTB dominated the charts with their subsequent albums, raking in millions of dollars as they became increasingly merchandised with clothing, toys, a cartoon, and more. However, the group, which was created as a white counterpart to black “boy band” New Edition, received backlash for their attempts to assert an “urban” image through their musical embrace of gangster rap and grunge music. This consistent criticism eventually led the group to leave their management and ultimately break up in 1994, although they still reunite on occasion.

The so-called “golden era” of boy bands was helmed by Boyz II Men, the Backstreet Boys, Hanson, *NSYNC, and 98 Degrees. Other key players of this time include k-pop group Shinhwa as well as O-Town, who was created by MTV. The Backstreet Boys were auditioned specifically to be members of a boy band, and their team worked intentionally to curate an audience of teen girls by performing at malls and schools as they built their reputation. Meanwhile, while O-Town doesn’t usually come to mind when thinking of the most iconic boy bands of the era, their creation for reality TV with support of legendary boy band manager Lou Pearlman parallels the way many of these boy bands were created at the time. By basing music around economics and primetime entertainment, members of such groups are not usually respected for their talents. The phenomenon of hotshot managers curating boy bands via solo auditions carried into the early 2000s, maintained by Simon Cowell on reality television competitions like the X-Factor and America’s Got Talent.

At the same time, Hanson reasserted the stereotypical boy band sound with vocals being led by the youngest member, the 11 year old Zac Hanson. They also continued to fight for independence of band members, recording and releasing music independently after facing restrictive label practices at the peak of their career. By fighting the limits put on boy bands in the 90s, Hanson and their contemporaries gave larger opportunities to their modern predecessors, who have been afforded more writing freedom than previous boy bands.

Meanwhile, Shinhwa, who were founded in 1998, have established themselves as one of the most successful K-Pop groups of all time, allowing for modern groups like BTS and ENHYPEN to become prominent in the western world. In true boy band fashion, they left their original management in 2011 to form their own, speaking to the inherent flaws in band recruitment and management. Shinhwa have remained together throughout multiple roadblocks like mandatory Korean military service, breaking the stereotype that every boy band splits up in order to kickstart members’ individual careers. In fact, many of the members have successfully released albums independently of the group’s 14 studio albums.

The Jonas Brothers’ partnership with the Walt Disney Company, as well as Big Time Rush’s creation for a television show on Nickelodeon, play into the age-old trope of boy bands existing for the entertainment of children. One Direction continued this trend, with audiences full of tween girls, merchandise, and PG-13 songs appealing to this particular demographic. Their brother band, 5 Seconds of Summer, appealed to these same fans as they aged, employing slightly darker tones and mature song themes into their music.

For years, One Direction claimed fame as the biggest boy band in the world. Alternative hip hop group Brockhampton attempted to challenge the British group following their hiatus, even writing the iconic lyric “Best boy band since One Direction” into their song “BOOGIE.” And as of 2021, the Bangtan Boys, more commonly known as BTS, have shattered records and garnered a massive global fanbase, truly earning the title of “biggest boy band in the world.” Through Brockhampton and BTS’s efforts, the narrative of boy bands being bad music only for teen girls is continuing to slowly be challenged, an uprooting in thought that began back in the 1960s. Designer: Vanessa Peng ( Business Administration and Design )

Feature Editorial MAC MILLER’S

AN ALBUM REVIEW

Seven years after its release as a free download, Mac Miller fans can finally experience his 2014 mixtape, Faces, on streaming platforms. The dark and confessional tape is Mac’s best project, albeit little-known compared with the jazzy Swimming and Circles albums that came out near and after his untimely death from a drug overdose at 26 years old. Faces deserves all the glory that Mac’s later albums achieved, as it paints a sometimes disturbing but deeply vivid portrait of a then 22 year old struggling with drug addiction, mortality, fame, and the human condition. The album art itself, an abstract jumble of soft images forming Mac’s hand-covered face, visualizes the themes of the album: dealing with all the emotions that come with being a human being, trying to be understood, and managing anxieties that arise when displaying yourself for the world to judge at a young age.

Listening to Faces now, knowing that Mac would eventually succumb to the addiction that he freely and earnestly raps about, creates a foreboding shadow as he acknowledges the dangerous elements at play in his life. “I shoulda died already,” Mac confesses in the opening bars of “Inside Outside,” the first track of Faces. The hour and thirty minutes of songs that make up the tape display who Mac was becoming as a person and artist, a mega-talented teenage star in the midst of an evolution into a complicated, thoughtful person. Faces is a self-reflective journey to the corners of Mac’s evolving psyche and musicality.

On the celebratory “Here We Go,” blaring trumpets back Mac’s bars as he proudly explains how he “did it all without a Drake feature!” Some forget that Mac was just 19 years old when his first album, 2011’s Blue Slide Park, became the first independent debut album of this century to hit number one on the Billboard charts. The money and fame he gained at a young age had caught up to him on Faces, and the excesses of the celebrity lifestyle caused him both pride and uneasiness. On “Angel Dust,” Mac describes a hazy scene from his drug-fueled life, filled with dread about what others think of him and stream of consciousness bars illustrating his stupor. “Woke up annihilated / covered in items I regurgitated under a fire escape,” he raps, before imploring listeners “don’t be scared / just come with me / it feels so good to / feel this free.” Mac’s bars don’t always have a cohesive theme on Faces. They are often contradictory, but this serves as a sign of his openness rather than a lack of cohesion.

Sonically, the beats Mac employed on Faces continued the inventive trajectory he was on following 2013’s Watching Movies With the Sound Off, an album that found Mac launching away from the bubbly, braggadocious frat rap he was known for and into a more daring and experimental orbit. On “Diablo,” a fan-favorite, Mac samples the melancholic piano of Duke Ellington and John Coltrane’s “In A Sentimental Mood.” Meanwhile, “Colors and Shapes” utilizes an interview with Timothy Leary, the famous psychedelic drug advocate. Regarding his drug use during the making of the mixtape, Mac tweeted, “I was not on planet Earth when I made Faces. Nowhere close.” Across the mixtape, death by overdose is an eerily common theme.

It’s not so much that Mac is glorifying his drug use on Faces, but instead, he presents his problem in tandem with thoughts on depression, happiness, sex, celebrity, and the meanings and minutia

of life. Faces is a sprawling portrait, and by focusing on the non-conformity of his beats and the unreserved sincerity in his lyrics, Mac’s career arc becomes simultaneously powerful and tragic. The influences of his out-of-the-box musical approach and candid, honest wordplay can be seen in the generation of artists that have come after him, like Cordae, MAVI, and even SZA. His close friends were some of his collaborators on Faces, including Earl Sweatshirt, ScHoolboy Q, Thundercat, and Vince Staples, and thei rintimate chemistry is evident across the mixtape (Earl delivers an all-time verse on “New Faces V2”).

Faces marks an epic evolution for Mac. It is the chapter that put him on the path to becoming not just a rapper, but the bold, crooning musician that he became. Mac was a superstar who had been a millionaire since high school, but he was still relatable in his honesty, thoughtfulness, and curiosity, and Faces is now streamable proof of that. The music world would be better off if he was still here.

• Lucas Cooperman

(Media and Screen Studies and Journalism) Designer: Maia Fernandez Baigun (Communications and Graphic Design)

Designer: Maura Intemann (English and Graphic and Information Design)

ScreamS aND SampleS:

The Voices of Rock & Roll Legends in Popular Music

It’s 2013 and you just discovered a

brand new artist. Her lyrics fuse social commentary with unsettling biography. Her sound is effortless and elegant, yet edgy and dark. You’re about to show your friend one of your favorite tracks, “Blue Jeans,” and as the opening notes roll, a gritty shout slips through the guitar. You’re not sure if it’s saying “sure,” “sing,” “sir” or “sail,” but it does exactly what it needs to do. It’s a harsh release that digs into you each time it sounds off. Once you start listening closer, you find it’s interspersed generously throughout the whole song, and even the entire sad girl rite of passage album titled Born To Die.

This sample is one of many that was widely used on Lana Del Rey’s debut record. Courtesy of producer Emile Haynie, the sample was used almost percussively throughout several songs, including “Blue Jeans,” “Lolita,” “Dark Paradise,” and “National Anthem.” It originates from a Rick James live recording of his song “Mary Jane.” The 1981 live recording offers an energetic exchange between the singer and his audience that leads into a Bob Marley tribute. James himself leads a singalong which he repeatedly stokes by prompting even louder and more passionate singing for the late reggae legend. The exact moment of the sample occurs at 9:22 in the recording when he does, in fact, shout “Sing!” which makes a lot of sense in context.

Perhaps it’s the fire behind James’ voice, the apt wording or something else entirely that does it. Regardless, this sample has since become a staple for producer Emile Haynie and has wound up in several other high profile artists’ work since. A few more tracks Haynie has production credits on, notably including Kanye West’s “Runaway” (see 0:40), feature vocal samples, or some ambient variation, from that same performance. Additional Haynie production credits, The Neighbourhood’s “Afraid” (see 1:27) and Bruno Mars’ “Gorilla” (see 0:20), feature very similar sounding samples, but do not explicitly credit the Rick James performance.

The “Mary Jane (Live)” sample action does not end at Haynie, however. The sound is prominently featured in tracks like Childish Gambino’s “I.Crawl” (see 0:01), A$AP Rocky’s “Ghetto Symphony” (see 1:23), and Kid Cudi’s “Creepers” (see 1:47) to name a few. With the hip hop community being perhaps the most frequent users of sample sounds across traditional genres, it is a solid feat to wind up in the work of so many household names. On top of this, it can be assumed that the Rick James estate is getting a handsome check in the mail every month as a result of these usages because, unless specifically allowed, every sample sound needs to be cleared with some sort of financial compensation in return on behalf of US copyright law.

This is, of course, not the only case of a historic rock performer’s live vocals being widely sampled. An even bigger example would be MOUNTAIN’s Woodstock performance of their track “Long Red,” which spawned one of the most widely used sample shouts in recorded music history. With its use officially cited in over 780 songs, lead singer Leslie West’s “Yeah!” and “Louder!” shouts are even more iconic than those of Rick James.

For those who would like to use Lana Del Rey as their reference point, the “Long Red” sample appears in the intro and throughout the Born To Die title track (see 0:14). For those who prefer Kanye, check out the 2006 Graduation cut with Lil Wayne, “Barry Bonds” (see 0:26). Other significant uses of the performance include Lizzo’s “Jerome” (see 0:00), early BTS track “Coffee” (see 0:28), and a drum sample in Jay Z’s “99 Problems” ( see 0:07). Put simply, this sound is everywhere.

An even more fascinating piece of information on the MOUNTAIN sample is that the band, aside from their respectably successful 1970 track, “Mississippi Queen,” enjoyed very little other success since their Woodstock performance. Only charting one single and one album after 1970, MOUNTAIN slipped right off the radar (intentionally or not) shortly after those “Yeah”s and “Louder!”s were uttered. However, Leslie West and MOUNTAIN remain alive and immortalized in the popular music sector thanks to the power of sampling, which has stamped them into hundreds of tracks and undoubtedly assisted with their lack of album sales post 1970.

Not only do these samples represent the impact of a single voice, but they represent the intersection of music at its most raw and stripped, live performance, and music at its most produced and processed. These vocal samples that wound up in tens and hundreds of other tracks are the result of a single moment between artist and audience that is relived and reimagined with each use. This is the power of a sample. To take a single, charged moment and place it in a brand new environment where it is able to take on a whole new meaning and amplify a completely different set of emotions. Is it likely that Rick James and Leslie West will continue to permeate even the most unlikely of genres and tracks into the future of recorded music? “Yeah!”

• Drew Quercio (Music Industry)

The Launch of “New World Soul”

Kera Washington remembers what it was like to be the only female instrumentalist performing in male-dominated bands. In the 90s, it was her constant reality.

“When I began to play, most of the musicians were men,” she said. “I often encountered folk that did not take female musicians very seriously.”

Washington, donning a traditional African-printed dress and surrounded by her vast drum collection, passionately recounted her early days in the music industry. She originally began percussion work in Boston-based Haitian bands, joining groups as the solo female member. Her frustration grew when producers and artist friends alike told her that they “couldn’t find” female musicians. Washington knew this was a lie, and she knew it was up to her to do something about it.

In 2001,Washginton launched Zili Misik – an all-female ensemble that promotes the empowerment of music from African and its diaspora. “Zili” is a product of Washington’s deepest ideals: femininity, unity, and human connection. Ever since its conception, the band has rapidly grown, with Washington as its faithful leader. Zili’s ensemble, which includes everything from bassists to percussionists to clarinetists, perform internationally and have even opened for Ms. Lauryn Hill and Shaggy.

The band name’s etymology draws from two sources. The word “Zili” comes from the goddess “Erzili,” a Haitian entity of femininity, generosity and love. “She’s a warrior,” said Washington. “She is many, many versions or visions of womanhood. Her energy: that’s the root, that’s the heart of what we do. That’s the source.”

“Misik” is derived from the Creole word, “Mizik,” or music. The slight alteration in spelling was Washington’s deliberate decision. “We are not a Haitian band,” she told me. Instead, Zili Misik is a fusion and reflection of various cultural sounds, all paying homage to African roots.

“I was raised by folks that believe in pan-Africanism,” Washington said, “which is that all black folk are connected. I was raised at a time when many people were recognizing the fact that the seat of humanity is in Africa.”

Zili Misik embraces the idea that there is a connection between black cultures in the diaspora, said Washington. Whether the band mirrors Haitian gospel, Jamaican reggae, Neo Soul, Afro-Cuban pop, or Southern-based soul and blues, Washington seeks to weave a colorful tapestry by pulling threads from each unique sound. In essence, she’s created what she calls “New World Soul.”

An Early Passion

Washington, a native Bostonian, embraced her musical side at a young age. She was raised in a family of strong women, she said, and her father and brother were never part of her household. Her mother, aunts and grandmother taught her how women uphold and pass on rich musical tradition.

Although Wahsington’s mother never considered herself a professional musician, she returned home after work every day to spend an hour by the piano, immersed in her music. “That was her therapy,” said Washington. “For the first hour that she got home, I couldn’t talk to her unless I was making music with her.”

Before long, Washington also found ways to channel emotion through music. As a student at Wellesley college in the 90s, Washington began to learn percussion.

“Nothing really hit me until I touched a drum,” she said. “Then that became my voice.”

Music became a form of fervent self expression for Washington. As she became privy to the deeply racist policies at her college, she turned towards music to address institutionalized inequality and release her anger.

To Washington, performing is a form of activism. Powerful people recognize the importance of change, she said, when they’re “touched by the music.”

“Either you go inward, and you become depressed, or you go outward and express and try to make change,” she said. “It became a story that I had to tell, that I have to tell… the ways in which we are connected.”

Change Starting in the Backyard

Music is not universally understood, said Washington. It is, however, universally felt. Washington seeks to unite people, no matter their differences, through the omnipotent influence of song.

That’s why, during the pandemic, Washington started hosting informal music sessions in her own yard. She and her wife had just moved with their one-year-old daughter to a little neighborhood in Dorchester, which presented the perfect opportunity to host fellow artists in a safe, outdoor setting.

The recurring sessions were far more than just convenient spaces for musicians to play. They were the backdrop of cultural education, something that is very near and dear to Washington’s heart.

Washington’s neighborhood was one of the only places in Boston that “went red” and collectively voted for Trump, she said. “I thought about what that meant for me, as a person of African descent living in this neighborhood,” she recalled. Washington wanted her community to reflect on how votes “may affect the people that they live next to, their neighbors.”

Over the summer, Washington hosted various musical workshops to call attention to these discrepancies. “We had the dual pandemics going on, where all of the sudden, because of the murder of George Floyd, there was a huge awakening for some people that hadn’t thought about the affects of racism on people of color, particularly BIPOC folks,” said Washington. “They weren’t thinking about that so presently in their reality.”

Therefore, the music sessions provided a platform to highlight Black music and culture. Individuals of African descent were able to lead workshops promoting education through collective experience. Washington recalled the interactions: as everything from reggae to Haitian rasin washed over the crowd, people gradually began to acknowledge the deep roots that connect them.

The Power of Education

The community collaborative was an offshoot of Project Misik, the aid organization that Washington founded in 2010. Project Misik aims to provide instruments and instruction to Haitians, and it expanded after the devastating earthquake that left over 200,000 dead. “We made music with people who had survived, physically, but emotionally did not have their voice,” said Washington. Project Misik gave Haitian artists the ability to process their trauma through music, she added.

Today, Project Misik promotes racial justice both internationally and domestically, from the homes of Mirebalais in Haiti to the backyards of Dorchester in Massachusetts. Washington has high hopes that the Project will continue to grow.

Washington is an educator in various ways. She’s taught workshops, directed bands and is now an elementary school teacher. Education, she said, influences people to embrace cultural appreciation. “I believe in the power of education, but at the same time I know that racism is a disease,” she said. “However, [education] plants a seed. And seeds grow – sometimes into beautiful big trees.”

Washington’s daughter recently turned one. Between fretting about her naptimes, Washington also fears for discrimination her daughter may face. The fight for an equal world is a continuous struggle. “She will be continuing this struggle, along with the next generation,” Washington said. “But I believe the key is to…. make more space for each other, allow each other the room to breathe and have respect and more appreciation – particularly for folks of African descent, who are often erased from our story.”

• Kenneal Patterson (Journalism)

Designer: Jenny Chen ( Business Administration and Design )