Images & Words: Stormzy, "Vossi Bop"
The Round-Up: The Best Songs of 2019 (1st Quarter)
The Round-Up: The Best Albums of 2019 (First Quarter)
Chief Keef, "Ain't Gonna Happen"
Fear of Men
“Luna”
Loom (out 4.22 on Kanine)
Longtime TP-favorites, Fear of Men are finally unleashing their proper debut LP. After debut singles, “Alta/Waterfall,” the Brighton outfit released the excellent, “Luna,” a cascade of jangly guitars and Jess Weiss’ ever-emotive vocals and lyrics. Check out its artful visual treatment below.
The War on Drugs
Lost in the Dream
Secretly Canadian
It’s been a remarkable musical year already, but the hazy Philly rockers’ third album has been one of the picks of the bunch. For better or worse, frontman Adam Granduciel has always been compared with fellow Philadelphian and former W.O.D. guitarist Kurt Vile. While the narrative seemed to be that Granduciel would always be in his shadow, this brilliant LP proves that he is no sideman. In fact, it could be easily argued that Lost in the Dream surpasses anything the celebrated Vile has ever put out.
First thing’s first, there’s a lot of pain on this album; it doesn’t take Rust Cohle to figure that out. Tracks titles like “Suffering,” “Under the Pressure,” and “In Reverse” serve as pretty solid clues, but if you dig deeper, there is plenty of light seeping out of the cracks. Much of that comes from the group’s rich, lush arraignments, inspired as much by psych rock as classic 70’s AOR (album-oriented rock). His penchant for sparkling piano melodies (see: standout cut, “Eyes to the Wind”) and major chord grooves balances out his lovesick lyrics beautifully, keeping Granduciel’s heavy-duty feelings from collapsing on themselves.
For that reason, it’s obvious why Lost in the Dream has drawn so many Springsteen comparisons. The Boss is the master of making hard times feel so god-damn easy — someone capable of turning a story about some sad-sack New Jersey steel town into a life-affirming 80,000 person singalong. While it probably isn’t a fair comparison, Granduciel’s got a little of that in his locker.
The beginning of lead single, “Red Eyes,” is fraught with claustrophobic frustration, before breaking into a triumphant crescendo. He may not be singing about “a town fulla losers,” but it certainly sounds like he’s “pullin’ outta here to win.” Even the crushing monolithic, break-up ballad, “In Reverse,” is peppered with gushing swabs of synth and longing guitar licks (think: 2014’s “I’m On Fire”). No matter how dark things get here, we never forget that the sun will rise again, even when he admits, “in reverse, I’m moving.”
It’s this balance that makes Lost in the Dream so impressive. There’s an incredible amount of sonic, musical, and lyrical diversity on this album, and Granduciel’s ability to harness it all into such cohesive statement deserves all sorts of plaudits. Previous War on Drugs records (especially 2011’s Slave Ambient) taught us that Granduciel could write great songs; Lost in the Dream tells us that he is a great songwriter. And there aren’t that many of them kicking around these days.
9/10
Check out the exquisite performance of “Eyes to the Wind.”
HAERTS
“Call My Name”
From Untitled New LP
The unpronounceable/unspellable Brooklyn synth-poppers return with their most ambitious cut to date. Over the last couple years, the quartet has been consistently pumping out dreamy, nostalgic jams, but “Call My Name” ratchets the melodrama up to 11. Their delightfully-named vocalist, Nini Fabi (which sounds like a fancy Greenpoint Bistro), stamps her authority all over the gauzy, evocative synth-line, doubtlessly a bi-product of many rainy nights listening to The Radio Dept. With that kind of arraignment, it’s easy for the vocalist to sort of blend in with vibe (see: every fucking chillwave song ever), but Fabi is undeterred. Her powerful, Stevie Nicks-ish vocal creates a powerful foil for the languid arraignment, which separates “Call My Name” from much of the work in the genre.
Samo Sound Boy
“Open” (Motions Remix)
Digital Single
The Body High mainman’s exquisite recent single gets a tasteful redesign from one half of the defunct London production team, Grown Folk. Though Motions (né Brenden Neal) doesn’t deviate too much from SSB’s original, he throws a massive four-to-the-floor over the top of it, which functions a pulsating beating heart to go with its wall of atmospheric synths and celestial vocal samples. Body High has sort of etched out a reputation as a rising force in “thinking person’s” dance music, and this will do nothing to damage that rep.
Just in case you missed it, make sure to check out Neal’s brilliant, new-ish single “To The Sea.” It’s one of the best house tracks of the year.
Jacques Greene
“No Excuse”
Phantom Vibrate (out 03.28 on LuckyMe)
The talented Montreal-native has been very prolific in recent years, and he’s reached a new zenith with this billowy, swaggering new single. Greene builds around a languishing vocal sample, fortifying it with dreamy synths and a banging percussion pattern. You don’t hear a lot of songs that so perfectly balance delicate melodies with beats that knock this hard, but he tiptoes the line masterfully. By the time it resolves into placid, ripping synth swaths, Greene has slalomed through a dizzying array of movements and moments, and the result is the strongest, most singular track of his young career.
Phon.o
“Moonwalk”
Cracking Space Pt. 1 (out 03.28 on 50Weapons)
The first taste of the Berlin-based producer’s new EP, “Moonwalk” is an oceanic, mantric return to form. A few years removed from the fantastic Black Boulder, the innovative composer (né Carsten Aermes) is showing no signs of fading, and “Moonwalk” highlights his incredible melodic touch and ability to pull maximum feelings out of minimal arraignments. Aermes matches a faraway, truncated vocal sample with an expansive, affecting synthscape, resulting in a song that gently drags you out into deep, dark water.
YG
“Who Do You Love?” (f/ Drake)
My Krazy Life (out 03.18 on CTE/Def Jam)
You’ve probably heard this song, and also you’ve seen the video a thousand times. That said, one of Young Angel’s best recent verses gets visuals, and YG and Mustard are putting my home state back on that map. That’s more than enough to warrant a post.
Tory Lanez
Chixtape 2 (self-released)
You may think that I exhausted my supply of plaudits on How to Dress Well’s outstanding lead single, but I dipped into my reserve arsenal to lavish a few on this liquid mixtape from this Texas-via-Tornoto crooner. I’ll resist the urge to compare it to Jeremih’s still-perfect Late Nights with Jeremih, but early returns mean that the comparison is in play. While he admittedly flirts with the trope-y practice of borrowing from classic R&B cuts (Ginuwine, TLC), he never lets the samples get over on him, and over the digestible 10-ish song set, Lanez demonstrates an impeccable ear, disarming experimental sensibilities, and above all else, an unfuckwitably smooth voice. This one’s got potential to be among the best of the year.
How to Dress Well
“Words I Don’t Remember”
Digital Single
Within seconds of listening to Tom Krell’s spellbinding new single, it’s clear that he’s never gone this far. That he’s never pulled the curtains back like this. That he’s never let this much light in.
“Words I Don’t Remember” — HTDW’s first studio work since 2012’s superb, Total Loss — continues his astonishing transformation from reverb-soaked, lo-fi shadow lurker to full-on clear-eyed, full-hearted, can’t-lose pop singer. It also highlights how natural and seamless that progression has been.
After listening to the track four or five times, I went back and listened to Love Remains (my favorite LP of 2010 and possible favorite album of the last five years). I was struck by both how singular it still sounds and how far Krell has come as a songwriter and vocalist. That said, no matter how much he’s drifted toward traditional, palatable pop music in the last four years, he still sounds like nobody else. In fact, you could argue that “Words I Don’t Remember” is just as subversive and challenging as any of his beguiling, occasionally desolate early work.
Over a stark chord progression, Krell deftly builds an arresting devotional that seeks to answer what happens to the purity of love, commitment, and trust in ” this world of simulations” (his words, not mine). While it sounds like drama camp stuff at face value, every ounce of that comes through in the ensuing six minutes. Though undoubtedly a gifted lyricist, Krell has always had a knack for communicating wordlessly (see: 95% of Love Remains), and it’s fitting that a song called “Words I Don’t Remember” packs such a devastating wordless crescendo, beautifully expressing the essence of the emotion that so often leaves us speechless. It is also the answer to his core quandary simply put, who fucking knows what happens to all that good stuff? But, like all the most important questions, it’s not about figuring out the answers; it’s just about seeking them.
It’s gorgeous. It’s powerful. It’s the best song I’ve heard so far this year.
Lil Herb
“On The Corner” (f/ Lil Durk, KD Young Cocky)
Welcome to Fazoland (Self-Released)
A highlight of one of the best mixtapes of the year so far, the rising star shows that drill can be lyrical, too. Many have bemoaned the lack of quality lyricists in the Chicago scene, but those people just aren’t listening closely enough. Herb is one of those voices, and Fazoland is chock-full of razor-sharp couplets and illuminating insights into life on the Chicago streets. On the ravenous “On the Corner,” he gets a melodic assist from Chicago’s best rapper (Lil Durk) and fellow up-and-comer, KD Young Cocky, and it beautifully expresses the joy and pain that is inherent in all the young architects of America’s best music scene.
Cop the excellent, Welcome to Fazloand, here.
