Camp queer icon does it again (and just in time for Pride

Month)

Soundbite// Chappell Roan’s new single “Red Wine Supernova”

NADIA TUDHOPE

Rising star Chappell Roan’s latest single “Red Wine Supernova” is a campy, glitzy, and horny bop — it’s everything you’d expect from her previous work and a promising look at where she’s headed.

Roan’s lyrics about sex and longing have always been both frank and fun (take the single “My Kink is Karma” as a stunning example in title alone). Other musicians (in particular other queer musicians I listen to) can mystify sex, obfuscating the act and focusing instead on the emotions behind it. In contrast, Roan’s matter of fact lyrics are refreshing and earnest. “Red Wine Supernova” is a top tier example of this — and shows how fun singing about sex can be. In her final verse, Roan implores her subject: “I heard you like magic / I’ve got a wand and a rabbit.” In case her meaning wasn’t clear, she adds “So baby let’s get freaky, get kinky / Let’s make this bed get squeaky.”

Rich, sweet, and tangy as sangria, “Red Wine Supernova” is a great song: perfectly encapsulating the peppy rhythms of Roan’s upbeat music, how much fun she has with her lyrics, and the yearning that characterizes her ballads.

Ted Lasso’s Happily Ever After Streaming//

The hit show demonstrates the importance of being earnest

BRADLEY DUNCAN

Ted Lasso was always an anomaly. When the show snuck into an already crowded streaming market in August 2020, the initial reactions — like the titular character himself — were overwhelmingly positive. Jason Sudeikis’ portrayal of the fish-out-ofwater head coach transplanted from the collegiate gridiron of Kansas to the English Premier League pitch was a joke — seriously. The concept that began as a comedic bit of advertising for NBC Sports a decade ago has managed to rack-up 40 Emmy nominations through its first two seasons. It’s now 2023 and Ted Lasso has just aired the final episode of its third (and possibly last) season on Apple TV+, and I’m honestly not sure I’ll ever be quite the same as I was three years ago because of it.

Ted did to me just what he did to the fictional world he inhabited — he thoroughly charmed and inspired me. By the end of the first episode, I was intrigued. By the end of the second, I was hooked. Such is the power of Ted Lasso. Slowly but surely, the very same unrelenting optimism and forthrightness that has fractured his marriage for being “too much,” begins to thaw the cold reception he receives in England. The characters in Ted Lasso are naive, conceited, vengeful, duplicitous, meek, and cynical. He meets them with kindness, respect, empathy, and forgiveness. He is a man up to it.

The show itself abandons cynicism. Eventually, the characters do what you hope they’ll do, and are rewarded for it. Where other, more typical shows would punish acts of misplaced trust or gullible characters who just don't understand “the real world,” Lasso losses (like the club’s relegation) feel like opportunities for growth, whereas a simple game of darts in the local pub is imbued with its own sort of gravity. fully consumed with grief, and yet he is a beacon of outward compassion and stoic grace. He treats the people around him as if they will inevitably do the right thing, and he does it so consistently that they eventually live awards them. That’s what was so refreshing about the show in season one: ultimately, everyone is rewarded for mutual trust — characters and audience alike. Things don’t always work out, of course, but the “big”

The core of this dynamic is Lasso himself. Behind the folksy charm and twangy drawl is a keen observer of human nature. His disarmingly congenial hayseed persona rarely reveals the depth of his thoughts. His ethic as a coach: “helping these young fellas be the best versions of themselves on and off the field,” is embodied by the way he manages his team. The culture he fosters in the locker room creates a space for healthy, supportive masculinity. Slowly but surely, everyone in Ted’s orbit begins to embody his idealism, becoming more virtuous, balanced individuals, and paying that forward into the world.

However, both Ted and the show are victims of their own success. The more mature and principled the characters become, the less conflict there is to address. By season three, the story feels wayward, following the exploits of the team as they put Ted’s teachings into practice outside of the club. Emotionally matured, the supporting characters can now address their deep-seated internal continued on page 23 continued from page 22 struggles, like Rebecca’s (Hannah Waddingham) feelings of scorn; Jamie’s (Phil Dunster) daddy issues; and Roy’s (Brett Goldstein) inadequate selfesteem. These deficiencies have been persistent obstacles to growth and selfrealization, and in no one is this more apparent than Nick Mohammed’s Nate “the Great” Shelley.

Nate’s dark turn at the end of season two was unnerving and focused a spotlight on toxic positivity, but early in season three his redemption is all but certain. The characters in Ted Lasso are broken, but with love, support, and understanding, they can mend. The more that Richmond FC comes to internalize Ted’s morality, and the better equipped they are to navigate their own crises, the more Ted is relegated to the background. Bereft of that paternal responsibility, Ted grows increasingly despondent. It’s a weird vibe, but it does pay off — eventually. Ultimately, the third season wasn’t as funny, focused, or polished as the first two. If the show really does consciously evoke Star Wars in its structure, then the team’s Sound of Music performance is definitely an example of where the show gets a little too “muppety” for its own good. But it’s a lot to ask a show of this caliber to repeatedly clear a bar it initially set so high for itself, and yet it still occasionally manages it. It’s a truly excellent show, with the trophies to prove it, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that its true legacy is the impact it leaves on its audience.

In my Noah Kahan era Music//

The good and the even better of Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever)

GIANNA DINWOODIE

On June 9, 2023 (the release date later revealed to purposely make a 69 joke) American folk-pop artist, Noah Kahan released the deluxe version of his popular album Stick Season entitled Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever). The niche community of East Coast folk music enjoyers eagerly awaited the album, so much so that I couldn’t even scroll through Twitter without encountering at least one person talking about their hopes and wishes for the sound and general vibe of the album.

Typically I am not an album listener. Instead I choose to curate very particular amalgamations of songs to suit a specific mood; however, when I first heard Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever), I knew I had found my album. I listened to it when I first got up in the morning, in the shower, making breakfast, studying — I listened to it absolutely everywhere.

Noah Kahan has an amazing voice. It’s gritty and real, but he can also make it sound soft and calming. This is to say he has exquisite range in his sound. Due to the sheer amount of hype for this album, I found myself already knowing most of the lyrics to the songs “Dial Drunk” and “No Complaints.” It's obvious you really like a song when you can listen to the same 40 seconds on repeat without getting bored. To me, it was also really surprising that I still liked these songs in their full versions after hearing the teasers. I have often been burned by the bass boosted and sped-up versions of songs on Tiktok, but there was truly no disappointment; only excitement to have the extended versions.

Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever) also features seven new songs, and the album truly has music for every vibe. There are heartbreaking songs about struggling with mental health or your love life, but there are also some simple bangers about small town life. Stick Season and its predecessor sound the way hope feels. Noah Kahan explores how lonely it feels to grow up in a small town, and the burning desire to leave and become something bigger than yourself — something that hits quite close to home. The first time I heard “Stick Season,” it was midnight, and I was driving with all the windows down, screaming all the lyrics with someone who has grown to be one of my closest friends. This is the same way by Noah Kahan

Coach Lasso didn’t just shape his players… he shaped me too. It made me hyper-aware of the way I moved through the world, and conscientious of my interaction with colleagues and strangers alike. It made me want to be a better version of myself — on and off the field. Ted Lasso is a hopeful show in an increasingly cynical world, and there’s no amount of Emmys that can adequately reward that.

Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever) deserves to be listened to. To tune into the essence of this album, you’ll need passion, and just a little bit of anger directed at the world.

“Your Needs, My Needs” sets a somber tone for the beginning of the deluxe version, but I think sad songs and feelings are what Noah Kahan does best. Potentially, this song is about a failing relationship and how one of the partners watched the other lose themselves to their inner demons. Somehow he can make you feel a whole whirlwind of emotions in only the three minutes a standard song takes. There is beauty in the way Kahan’s music can be applied to a plethora of situations, with it being part of the reason why I believe this new album should be more well known. Another personal favorite of the new additions is “Call Your Mom” which, according to fan theory, depicts someone suffering from depression while Kahan intends to do everything in his power to make sure they get better. Honestly, I didn’t grasp the full meaning of this song until I looked into it, and now that I know — wow.

Kahan’s lyrics are unmatched in my book, as his songs always relate to me on deeply personal levels. However, this is not to say the topics of his songs are niche to one type of audience — in fact it’s quite the opposite! I love that he battles topics that plague so many people, as it makes listeners feel as though they aren’t alone in their struggles. It gives a sense of peace.

Wholeheartedly, I have nothing bad to say about this album, except for the shame that it’s not already more popular. In my opinion, Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever), has the diversity and range to be the album of the summer. I know it’ll be on repeat for my road trips!