Archive for August, 2011

TV on the Radio "You"

Dan Savage is fond of saying that every relationship you have fails until one doesn't. In a way, that's the thematic core of this song: Tunde Adebimpe is singing about a failed love, giving it something of a post-mortem while lamenting "you're the only one I ever loved." The chorus is more bittersweet, as each line looking back on what they had together is proceeded by the phrase "constantly wrong." That's often how it seems in retrospect, like you have the answer now and can't imagine why it wasn't obvious back then. But in the moment, even the most idiotic love feels like the only truth. Buy it from Amazon.

Kanye West and Jay-Z "Gotta Have It"

One of the most interesting things for me about Watch the Throne is listening to Jay-Z, the most imperious rapper in hip-hop, essentially bend to the artistic whims of Kanye West, the genre's most ambitious auteur of the past half decade. The record is clearly the product of West's distinct vision, with Jay-Z doing his professional, precise Jay-Z thing. But part of his professionalism extends to adapting to his surroundings, which means that on some tracks, he makes some effort to be revealing and emotionally direct, because that's Kanye's thing. And it's weird and not tremendously convincing. Kanye can't help but project his intense insecurities – he's emotionally transparent at all times, and it's part of what makes him such a fascinating and magnetic pop star. Jay-Z, however, is the radical opposite - his every word and movement is focused on controlling your impression of him. His songs are essentially a never-ending PR campaign in verse. Even when he's trying to seem "open," like on "Welcome to the Jungle," you can tell how deliberately he is controlling your access and guiding your perceptions. He just can't spill the contents of his head out on to the tape like West. This guarded quality is interesting in its own right, and I certainly relate more to this attitude than Kanye's chronic oversharing, but I find that I don't really care to know much about Jay-Z's inner life. He's more compelling as an icon. (In this way, Kanye is analogous to the Marvel Comics model of whiny, introspective, persecuted superheroes [Spider-Man, the X-Men, the Hulk] and Jay-Z is more like DC Comics' Superman and Batman, who thrive when creators trade on their stoic, iconic qualities.) In some ways Watch the Throne is disappointing in that it doesn't do enough to stress the contrast in Jay and Kanye's personalities. Even when both rappers stick to a basic thematic conceit within a song, they seem like they're not quite relating to one another. I'm particularly fond of "Gotta Have It" because it's a major exception to this rule, as both men are actively engaged with each other through the entire piece as they trade off lines. This song finds West stepping more into Jay's comfort zone -- whereas the more Ye-centric tracks have a neurotic buzz about them, "Gotta Have It" has the triumphant, dominating spirit of Hov classics like "U Don't Know" and "Public Service Announcement." They don't really say much of substance to each other, but it's still exciting to listen to these guys in a dialogue. Buy it from Amazon.

Cymbals Eat Guitars "The Current"

"The Current" is rather epic for a song that barely cracks the two minute mark. For the first minute and a half, the song is all forward momentum and delicate gesture, with subtle rhythms and instrumental harmonies that recall Sonic Youth in Daydream Nation mode and Radiohead's fixation with atmospheric arpeggios on In Rainbows. Once the song cycles through all its twist and turns, Joseph D’Agostino sings a brief passage that comes out sounding like a sci-fi prayer. He relaxes his mind by imagining a multiverse full of infinite alternate versions of himself, and thinking that among those countless iterations of his life, there's at least one duplicate of himself without any problems. It's a humbling, calming thought. And then there's silence. Buy it from Amazon.

Neon Indian "Fallout"

Neon Indian's first album trafficked mainly in blunted nostalgia, with fairly slight but sometimes mesmerizing tunes filtered through self-conscious faux-cassette aesthetics. "Fallout," the first song released from his second album Era Extraña is far more mature and resonant in a way that doesn't seem as though it could be a happy accident. There's still a haziness to the sound, but the atmosphere is secondary to the music, which touches on the epic, melodramatic romance of a particular strain of 80s radio hit. "Fallout" has some distant echoes of tunes like Berlin's "Take My Breath Away," but the its most compelling for the way it updates the deep-voiced masculine romanticism of bands like OMD and Love and Rockets. Even compared to that stuff, Neon Indian is stoic and restrained, but there's a genuine yearning at the core of this song. "If I could fall out love with you," he sings, only just barely holding back the passionate love anthem buried under woozy psychedelia and emotional defense mechanisms.

Rewards featuring Solange Knowles "Equal Dreams"

I like that Solange is carving out this interesting little niche for herself as this boho R&B singer who turns up on all sorts of arty little records. This is one of her more interesting one-off collaborations – she's a little bit outside of her usual comfort zone, but makes the most of being the warmest element in a cool DFA 12" disco track. There's actually very little in her vocal performance that comes off as particularly R&B – there's a trace, but it's filtered through an icy Euro vibe. It's funny, really, that she's dialing down her natural inclinations to arrive at a similar place as singers who have to deep dig to put as much soul in their work. At any rate, it's a very nuanced vocal that contrasts very nicely with the more hushed male lead part and a track that shifts very intuitively between very stark and richly detailed sections. Buy it from Amazon.

Shabazz Palaces "A Treatease Dedicated to the Avian Airess from North East Nubis (1000 Questions, 1 Answer)"

If you want to cut straight to the emotional center of this song, advance to 0:38 for the "oooooo weee" at the start of a new verse. You only hear that digitally processed swoon once in the piece, but it sets the tone for the lovestruck banter through the rest of the track. The song perfectly captures the feeling of trying to balance a desire to come off cool and suave with this geeky, enthusiastic urge to just ask a million questions because you're so fascinated and enchanted by someone that you just want to know everything, and every little detail is exciting and interesting. Their mystique is alluring, but you still want to get beyond it. I love the way the music floats around in a relaxed haze, but gets grounded by the bass when his language becomes more assertive and decisive. Then there's the questions, spilling out and fading into infinity: "What'chu reading?" "Did you see City of God?" "Do you fuck with Kobe or LeBron?," et cetera... Buy it from Amazon. See Also: I interviewed Shabazz Palaces for Rolling Stone.