Author Archive

Stewart Lupton “Three Chord Mansion”

In a better timeline, Stewart Lupton would have at least been able to complete the comeback he started with the one EP he released under the band name Childballads in the middle of the 2000s. He was in the process of reinventing himself as a sort of mid-60s Dylan figure, and I think he was doing it convincingly. Obviously, a lot of people aim for that, but he genuinely possessed the raw charisma and skewed poeticism to pull it off. A few more songs trickled out, including a couple from a radio session I produced for a public radio show in 2008 and another EP with a backing band called The Beatins in 2009, and after that he went totally silent until his death in 2018. It’s unclear how much music he made in the last decade of his life, but a 5 song compilation of lost Lupton songs has surfaced on Bandcamp and the most recent track is from 2010.

“Three Chord Mansion” is from his Childballads phase, and I dimly recall it being played when I saw them live a couple times back then. It’s a loose and groovy number featuring Betsy Wright on vocals and keyboard, and it sounds like it was recorded live to tape with the exception of Lupton’s vocal overdubs, in which he doubles his part in a lower register. The live feel suits Lupton well – it captures his ragged spirit without any studio dilution, and the recording centers the raw chemistry he had with Wright. She sings a backup vocal part that tips over into a lead if just by virtue of the strength and confidence of her voice, like she’s there to provide this traditional passionate country rock vocal while he plays it cool. It’s lucky to have this recording now, but also so frustrating – they sound like they’re just starting to figure out this dynamic. I’m sure whatever volatility that resulted in things falling apart is also what makes this sound so vital and present, but it’s hard to get around the “what if?” of it all.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Oceanator “Goodbye, Goodnight”

“Goodbye, Goodnight” opens with a plodding, heavy riff straight out of the grunge era but as the song slides into its chorus it finds a bit more grace. I like the way this form works with the lyrics – Elise Okusami’s verses are flustered in dealing with someone reading too much into her behavior, but when she shifts gears she’s casually dismissing them with the title phrase. You feel the weight lift off her back, and even if the conventions of pop songwriting dictate that she retrace the verse and chorus a second time the backsliding feels natural and the instrumental at the end hits like the proper catharsis.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Thanya Iyer “Bring Back That Which Is Kind to You”

Thanya Iyer’s music is gentle and introspective, navigating difficult emotions and complicated relationships with a generous and forgiving spirit. “Bring Back That Which is Kind to You,” the jazzy centerpiece of her album Kind, is an extremely soothing piece of music that allows for sounds that indicate tension and anxiety to exist in harmony with musical elements that convey serenity and warmth. This is most apparent in the melodic parts that float into the arrangement after she finishes singing the first verse – I think it’s woodwinds and piano, but the pitch is bent and distorted just enough to make them feel a bit alien. The tonality is a little bit annoying and a little bit magical, and I think the way your ear gets used to it and starts to hear it as a fully beautiful sound is part of the point of this song. It’s letting go of a sense of order and expectation, and finding beauty and grace where it’s not entirely obvious.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Logic1000 “Perfume”

“Perfume” is essentially a radical dance remix of an R&B song from 20 years ago – “Separated,” a Top 40 hit for Avant from his debut album My Thoughts. Logic1000 kept Avant’s vocal track intact but otherwise removed every trace of the song’s ultra-sleek late ’90s/early ’90s R&B aesthetics, trading that track’s sweet sentimentality for a more minimalist and up-tempo track that feels far more raw and urgent. There’s a real magic to the pacing here, particularly as the verses lock into a tense rhythmic holding pattern before layering in fast beats for the chorus and bridges. This mix provides a catharsis that simply doesn’t come in the original version of the song, which just sort of drifts along in a melancholy haze without resolution. The melody and feeling of this song feels unlocked in this form – it goes deeper into its sadness, but also gets the chance to reach some ecstatic heights.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Prince “Forever In My Life” (Live in Utrecht, 1987)

The version of “Forever In My Life” we’ve known for decades is one of Prince’s greatest minimalist productions – a gorgeous soul ballad of devotion and vulnerability backed mainly by the crisp, electronic clatter of a drum machine. There’s vocal overdubs, but it’s all his voice responding to himself, emphasizing the sense that he’s totally lost in his thoughts while contemplating his love for someone else. There’s a bit of acoustic guitar at the end, which is a tonal shift that suggests arriving at a peaceful emotional grounding. It’s a brilliant and evocative arrangement, and now with the alternate versions of the song featured on the new expanded reissue of Sign O the Times, we know it’s the work of thoughtful revision.

The studio outtake version included on the fifth disc has a drastically different character with its emphasis on a strummed acoustic guitar groove and a generally warmer tone falling somewhere between country rock and classic soul. It’s a far more straightforward piece of music and works very well on its terms – it’s not hard to imagine this one becoming a minor hit if it had been released in this form instead as it’s a very radio-friendly mix. But knowing where he went with it, it’s easy to hear what he thought was missing: It’s a little too normal, and not really getting close to the raw and candid emotional place he got through revision and cutting out so much clutter. This version is gorgeous and says the same thing, but it doesn’t quite look you in the eyes like the eventual album mix.

The more stunning alternate version was recorded live on stage after the album was released. The Utrecht recording splits the difference between the two extremes, centering the song on the mechanical beat but playing the groove on an acoustic guitar with a bluesy flair. Prince reorients the song towards blues and gospel, integrating groups of male and female backup singers but calling out through the performance when to silence parts of the band like he’s leading a band the way he’d move sliders and twist knobs on a mixing board. The live version is long but very dynamic and engaging, particularly as it moves along and he starts working the audience as part of the arrangement. The recording is actually too crystal clear in capturing the musicians on stage to include much audience noise, but it’s just enough to get a sense of what’s happening.

Buy it from Amazon.

Bonobo & Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs “Heartbreak”

“Heartbreak” pulls its vocal hook from Class Action’s “Weekend,” a classic from the early ’80s NYC club scene that’s probably best known now as a remix by Larry Levan. Bonobo and TEED use an odd bit of the song – half of the first line of the first verse – so its relationship with that song is more abstract, like it’s a talisman or some ingredient for a spell to conjure up the spirit of this era long before most anyone that would be at a club today was born. The music itself is more rooted in ’90s house music, with its fast breakbeats and constant push towards ecstatic heights. It’s built to be a highly efficient jolt of energy and joy, and even if it’s being released a time when dancing in public is more or less forbidden around the world the emotional and physical effect of it is very welcome.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Thee Oh Sees (Osees) “Red Study”

“Red Study” has a sinister but playful groove, bouncing along on a bass line that’s quite perky but also sort of unbalanced and seasick. John Dwyer runs with this vibe in the lyrics by singing from the perspective of a modern trickster figure who openly tells you that he will lie to you and ruin your life, and you’re left to wonder whether that’s just another one of his lies. (It’s not.) It’s not hard to get why Dwyer would write this song now – if anything, the tricky part is figuring out which demonic presences in culture preying on rubes specifically inspired this song. It could be anything, but this one feels particular to Q for me.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Sault “Free”

Sault’s second album this year is directly inspired by Black Lives Matter activism, but as much as the lyrics feel very of-the-moment, there’s not much said on the record that couldn’t have been said at any time in the past few decades or probably also the decades to come. Even a track like “You Know I Ain’t,” which specifically mocks the dubious surface-level support of white people in terms that feel particular to 2020, is still pretty much evergreen. A similar theme is explored in the lyrics of “Free,” which questions the arrival of supposed saviors a bit too late to change much of anything. The implication in both songs is that while support and awareness is appreciated to various degrees, the strength that developed in the absence of that has become more important and reliable. Whereas “You Know I Ain’t” is snarky, “Free” is more gracious and overtly spiritual – and not simply for invoking God’s love in the chorus. As the music shifts from breakbeat funk to an up-tempo gospel feel, it feels like ascending towards a more “galaxy brain” state of mind and perspective.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Suuns “Pray”

“Pray” is the type of song that’s built like a ride, like you’re moving around a rollercoaster, gradually gaining momentum and being brought up to a peak so you can have the experience of suddenly dropping down. In this song, it’s all about building up tension until you finally hit the 3:15 mark and a screeching solo kicks in. It doesn’t fully register as music – it’s more this extremely loud and cathartic sound that rips through the composition. It’s strange how this shrill, shrieking metallic sound can alleviate the tension while sounding like something that should actually make you feel more tense. I think it’s that it gives you this satisfaction of destruction, like this place you’ve just escaped is now being burned to the ground.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Jana Horn “Time Machine”

“Time Machine” is a pensive song with the atmosphere of the first genuinely cold day of autumn, when your body reacquaints itself with air so chilly it sort of stings with a light breeze. Jana Horn sings about the end of a close relationship – it’s not obvious whether it’s romantic or platonic – with a slightly detached tone, as though she’s already moved through the stages of grief and has arrived at acceptance and resignation. In the verses she deals with the aftermath of the other person’s decision to end things and the impossibility of changing their mind, but the choruses entertain the fantasy of creating a time machine and… maybe undoing something? There’s no specific idea suggested, just the open-ended magical thinking of the possibility of building a thing that’s never existed.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Bless the Mad featuring Edson Sean “Show Me the Way”

Ibrahem Hasan and Matthew Rivera bring a crate-digging, collage-making hip-hop DJ mindset to their recordings as Bless the Mad, even if the music on the record is all live instrumentation. “Show Me the Way” is driven mainly by Rivera’s drums and keyboard parts but is carried by Edson Sean, whose soulful gospel wailing and warm bass are the most expressive parts of the composition. The arrangement of this song feels tidal, as though the music and vocal parts are waves cresting and crashing. There’s a turmoil to it but also a very peaceful feeling, as though Sean’s pleas to God are answered by the music’s own flow towards moments of equilibrium.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Jenny O “Color Love”

I’ve come to expect some degree of anxiety in the lyrics of young songwriters, so it is a pleasant surprise that the cool, calm, ’60s psychedelia of this song is not subverted by lyrics expressing some form of angst. Or maybe it does, in a more roundabout sense: Jenny O’s lyrics here is basically advice urging the listener to make the most of small pleasures in life, and I’m sure to some extent she’s addressing herself. But in either case, it’s very relaxed in tone and it’s messaging, and not at all pushy in getting across the subtext that these little pleasures are what add up to a good life or what can keep us from losing sight of what is valuable in the world when it’s much easier to see all that is terrible in it. And all of that is factored into the sound too, as the whole thing is built on gently melancholic chords and progresses towards a guitar solo that expels lingering tensions that build up through the song.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Stephen Malkmus “Brainwashed”

I certainly never expected Stephen Malkmus to ever record a song with a vibe very similar to that of Grant Lee Buffalo’s 1994 masterpiece Mighty Joe Moon, but here we are – one of the few unexpected things in 2020 to actually be delightful. “Brainwashed” is a folksy number with a distinctly woodsy feel, like he ought to be playing it while sitting on a log near a stream, or maybe out in front of a cabin with the scent of a wood-burning stove in the distance. Malkmus’ vocal falls somewhere between relaxed and exhausted as he pleads to be rid of his mind and his memories, and all the responsibilities that go along with it. He sketches out some odd Malkmusian details about what the guy in this song has been up to – some kind of scam involving propane in Maine? – but that’s just color. The main thing here is the way the “brainwash me” refrain sounds so enticing now, and the way Malkmus busts out an electric guitar solo at the end that’s a little like what he pulled out for his Silver Jews song “Blue Arrangements” over 20 years ago and a bit like a more dazed version of Neil Young.

Also, in case you missed it a few months ago, I wrote a full review of Malkmus’ Traditional Techniques for NPR and you can read it right here.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Crystal Murray “Princess” (Yuksek Remix)

The original mix of “Princess” is very good but the arrangement feels a bit hesitant, starting off as more of an R&B number before sliding into dance music territory. This mix by Yuksek eliminates the slow build and genre ambiguity by making it a house pop song from the start and I think the song feels much more natural in this form, it sounds like it’s the shape it was always meant to be. I suspect the cleverness of the original mix comes from shying away from what a crowd pleasing ’90s-style dance number it is – it’s certainly a little more generic this way, but it’s also far more effective in conveying both a mood and a physical response. And ultimately this sort of music is built on its utility. With both versions being options I’m not sure why anyone wouldn’t choose the more joyful one that really moves.

Buy it from Amazon.

Bumper “Red Brick”

Bumper’s first EP sounds like it’s specifically based on late ’80s sophisti-pop along the lines of Swing Out Sister and that music’s aesthetic cousin Japanese city pop, but the music is written and performed without any trace of irony. At other points in time this sort of thing could be expected to be played with a wink even by true believers, but Michelle Zauner and Ryan Galloway do this with a degree of sincerity that makes a song like “Red Brick” feel authentic and pure. Everything in the song sounds bright and joyful, and even as Zauner confronts dark feelings in the lyrics it’s not a subversive move – her point of view is entirely optimistic that difficult times can be overcome in a very “the only way out is through” way.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Buscabella “NTE” (Jonti Remix)

When it comes to remixes I always prefer the ones that modify the arrangements of a song to those that barely resemble the source material. Jonti’s “NTE” remix is in the former category – he retains the essential vocal hook and groove of Buscabella’s track and replaces the more drowsy feel of the original with a brighter, more “tropical” atmosphere. The song retains its identity but gains a new utility as something better geared to a dancefloor than a chill-out room. Either version of the song has a very stoned vibe but I particularly like the way the bass line fits into Jonti’s mix like this warm center bringing up the temperature of everything that comes close to it.

Buy it from Boomkat.

Sharada Shashidhar “Loose Ends”

“Loose Ends” is a jazz vocal ballad but its textures are digitally warped to the point of disorienting abstraction. Sharada Shashidhar’s vocal is clear and precise, conveying patience and thoughtfulness in the midst of a track that feels more uncertain and chaotic. Jamael Dean’s music seems to move with and against her flow at different points, almost as if the sound is a storm moving around her stable, meditative presence. There are moments where it feels as though she’s moving against a powerful tide, but as she gets through it the chords settle into a more placid groove in harmony with her. It’s hard to imagine this is not a deliberate metaphor.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Natalie Slade “Humidity”

Natalie Slade’s voice is soulful but very controlled and understated – she emotes just enough to indicate her power and range, but keeps her focus on storytelling in her verses and conveying a soul-searching introspection in the choruses. Pretty much everything else in the arrangement of “Humidity” displays a similar balance of warmth and restraint. The bass is funky but unobtrusive; the drums have a nice feel but keep to a clean, tight pocket. My favorite thing here is the keyboards by Simon Mavin, whose chords seem like softly glowing lights just behind the groove. His parts get a bit higher in the mix near the end of the song, or maybe it’s more that other parts clear out to give those lovely chords some more space to be heard.

Buy it from Bandcamp.

Dua Lipa & The Blessed Madonna “Break My Heart (Moodymann Remix)”

Club Future Nostalgia has the feel of a club DJ set broadcast over the radio on a Saturday night – all the joy of the music is there, but the physical sensations of being in a room full of people with flashing lights is left to the imagination. Dua Lipa and The Blessed Madonna made this full album remix album as a tribute to those sort of broadcasts and classic DJ mix CDs, but also a simulation of an experience intended for all the people around the world who can’t just go to a club night during a pandemic.

It’s also a way of putting Lipa’s disco aesthetics in its proper context. The songs on Future Nostalgia are all finely crafted dance pop bangers, but in some ways the disco-ness of the music is hemmed in by the pop-ness. The remixes on this record allow the grooves to loosen up, mutate, or merge with other tunes. “Break My Heart,” so tightly composed on the album, is far more fluid here – first as a mash-up with Jamiroquai’s “Cosmic Girl,” and at the end as a longer, airier funk track reworked by Moodymann. He places all emphasis on the bass line – which interpolates INXS’s “Need You Tonight” – and clears out most of the negative space. The song retains its hooks but its vibe is completely changed, pushing it away from the angsty throb of the original towards a more relaxed and elegant aesthetic.

Buy it from Amazon.

Blackpink & Selena Gomez “Ice Cream”

“Ice Cream” has a very mid-’00s feel to it – most specifically it reminds me of Beyoncé’s melodies in her 2005 hit “Check On It” and the particular bounce of Swizz Beatz productions from the period. But it’s also just the general vibe of that era, that hyper-glossy hedonistic rap-adjacent bubblegum as deliberate counter-programming to a more pervasive bleakness in the culture. I can see how this could grate on people with a full-time commitment to doom but I think songs like this, which deliver joy and escapism with impeccable craft, are a necessary part of the arts ecosystem. I would be dazzled by this song if just on a melodic level under any conditions, but it coming at this time emphasizes all its sass and sparkle.

This song is Blackpink’s most blatant attempt at an American crossover hit to date, and I think it’s handled very well as an introduction to the group even with Selena Gomez taking center stage in the hook and the video. Rosé, who sings the highest part of the chorus, and Lisa, who does all the rapping, are the ones who really announce themselves as stars in this song and its music video. Like CL from 2NE1 before her, Lisa is a very convincing and aggressive rapper – to some extent they both come across as people who have fully internalized the cadences of mainstream female rappers like Cardi B and Nicki Minaj the way an actor would master an accent with a dialect coach, but the performances have a real spirit to them rather than just seeming studied and rote. Lisa is certainly compelling enough to get away with lyrical references to Michael Jackson and Free Willy, or opening her solo verse with the phrase “chillin’ like a villain.”

Buy it from Amazon.