[Article] Caught Somewhere In Time

    There's a very limited number of artists from my middle school days that I'm still a proud fan of. But no artist has meant as much to me for as long as Iron Maiden has, whom I first fell in love with at the age of 11 when I would listen to Powerslave after school every day and flip through its lyric booklet completely absorbed. Who the hell were these guys, with long, straight hair and way-too-tight, leather pants, singing about sword-fighting and ancient Egypt? I've long since wanted to write a piece on them but figured that question and most others had already been answered - what else could possibly be said about them that hasn't already been said at great lengths? It was during my latest Maiden binge, which happened to coincide with the recent finale of Twin Peaks, that an idea worth writing about finally came to me.

    Twin Peaks is David Lynch's brilliant television mystery drama, originally airing from 1990-91 and recently rebooted for a third season. Ostensibly, it deals with FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper's investigation into the murder of prom queen Laura Palmer in the small, sleepy town of Twin Peaks, WA. But, more than that, it addresses the underlying, omnipresent evil in every day life, especially in that which may appear quaint and idyllic on the surface. Lynch does so by constantly interweaving dreams and reality, past and future, forcing the viewer to question every detail of every scene as they attempt to solve the same puzzle that so consumes the protagonist. Although the series was often romantic, humorous, and optimistic, it left us with a rather dark and hopeless denouement. One of the main themes in the series finale - which ties in perfectly with that of my favorite Iron Maiden album - is the horror of losing one's sense of self by travelling through time.

    In the finale, Dale Cooper has one last opportunity to save Laura, who we learn is the human representation of goodness and purity. He does this initially by travelling back in time to the night of her murder and preventing it; we get to see a Twin Peaks where she lived on, a Twin Peaks where everything didn't unravel into despair. But Judy (or Jao De), who is the source of all that's evil and corrupt in the world, takes Laura out of this reality and places her in another, where she is isolated and has completely lost her sense of self; she is fully convinced she is another person. Cooper, despite Judy's best efforts, manages to find her in this other timeline. But he is clearly not the Cooper beloved by audiences, he is discernibly different in both speech and disposition. His spirit has already started to wither away in his pursuit of Laura. Nevertheless, he convinces her to visit her real mother, Sarah Palmer, in the hopes that it will refresh her memory and remind her of her true identity as the only person capable of vanquishing Judy.

    However, when the two reach her mother's house, they are met by an entirely unknown woman, who claims to have never heard of Sarah Palmer. Cooper, returning to the street in a horrible moment of clarity, realizes he is in one of Judy's alternate timelines and chillingly asks: 'what year is it?'. He seems doomed to repeat this same fate over and over, endlessly chasing Laura through different realities only to realize each time that Judy is one step ahead of him. After hearing Cooper's question, Laura seems to have a moment of clarity herself - she begins to scream in horror as she suddenly remembers her murder and all of Judy's evil she had repressed in this new timeline. We are left feeling quite empty, wondering if Cooper will ever be able to save her, or if he will continue on in vain until he eventually loses all sense of self and forgets what his purpose was in the first place.

    This utter terror and hopelessness of being completely at the mercy of time, of losing yourself within its twists and turns, was explored 31 years prior by Maiden's Somewhere In Time record. This album was really the product of exhaustion - the group had just played 189 shows on the World Slavery tour, and for the first time in their career they decided to take some time off. As their sixth studio album, it was the first one not to be released the year after the previous. In having the time to reflect and experiment for once, Maiden took chances with their sound and subject matter unlike any before. The entire album is soaked in this sort of world-weary melancholy - even the most uptempo and marketable songs are more introspective than their prior catalog. Heaven Can Wait and Wasted Years, for example, the only two songs off the album that the band has continued to include in set lists, are anything but the confident, assertive Maiden we were used to. 

    Thus, we can view Somewhere In Time as the transition point between the aggressive and visceral Maiden of the early 80s, and the more pensive, progressive Maiden of the late 80s onward. It is the first time they used synthesizers in their music. But, unlike their followup effort, Seventh Son of a Seventh Son, they restricted themselves to guitar synthesizers. Lyrically, it was the first album where they truly showed vulnerability, something not exactly encouraged in the genre, at least at the time. Bruce was also arguably at his most sincere and emotive as a singer.

    Somewhere In Time is (very loosely) a concept album, built around the theme of time. Caught Somewhere In Time addresses time travel, Wasted Years the pain of lost time, Sea of Madness going crazy because of it, Heaven Can Wait and The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner the notion of eternity, Stranger In A Strange Land being frozen in time, Alexander the Great immortality (at least in terms of reputation), and Déjà Vu the fractured perception of time. Consequently, it was their most unified album to date - even though they were dealing so heavily with the abstract, whereas previous albums focused almost entirely on the concrete. It should also be mentioned that the album contains some of the greatest cover art of all-time, with dozens of intricacies and references to their past work. In fact, Wikipedia has a whole section devoted to it.

    The album's mesmerizing opening track, Caught Somewhere In Time, is perhaps the best song on the album and forms the strongest connection to the finale of Twin Peaks. Its hook is the source of inspiration for this article - the absolute horror and desperation Bruce expresses at being trapped in time instantly evoked memories of Cooper's own conundrum. In the first verse, he sings 'If you have the time to lose / An open mind and time to choose', and then in the second verse, 'If I said, I'd take you there / Would you go, would you be scared?'. This is Cooper trying to convince Laura of who she is and get her to visit her real mother. The pre-chorus repeated throughout the song, 'Time is always on my side', is Judy reminding us, and Cooper, that time is the ultimate ally to someone who can manipulate it, and, therefore, he can never win. That sort of power can be wielded to solve any problem, such as stashing Laura in different dimensions to keep her from Cooper. Bruce is facing the hopelessness of trying to fight against time, a natural and inevitable force, just like Cooper is. The fourth verse has Judy 'like a wolf in sheeps' clothing', which refers to Sarah Palmer, whom Judy possessed in order to get closer to Laura. Thus, Cooper's quest does seem hopeless, since even if he succeeds in reuniting Laura with her mother, he's really just delivering her right to Judy. In the final verse, Judy confronts Cooper directly: 'You've only got your soul to lose / Eternally let yourself go'. This is Cooper's dilemma - eternally try to save Laura, most likely failing and losing his identity in the process of travelling in and out of different timelines, or surrender and let the world succumb to Judy's evil.

    The rest of the album draws strong parallels to the Twin Peaks finale as well. In Stranger In A Strange Land, which aptly describes Laura in her alternate reality, Bruce sings: 'My spirit wanders endlessly / Until the day will dawn and friends from home discover why / Hear me calling, rescue me'. This is Laura reaching out to Cooper, the only person who is capable of saving her. Cooper heeds these calls and changes the past by preventing her death, demonstrating the fourth song Heaven Can Wait, where Judy reminds Laura and Cooper of the futility of their actions: 'Eternal youth, I'll take you to the other side / To see the truth, the path for you is decided'. Déjà Vu is Laura's mental state while returning home with Cooper: 'When you see familiar faces / But you don't remember where they're from / Could you be wrong?'. Sea of Madness illustrates Laura's horror when she is finally flooded with the memories: 'Out in the street somebody's crying'. 

    If Laura is the Stranger, then Cooper is the Long Distance Runner, as The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner uses running as a metaphor for being lost in time, and the exhausting and disorienting nature of repeating the same events over and over: 'But the miles, they never seem to end / As if you're in a dream, not getting anywhere / It seems so futile'. Cooper can move through time but finds himself unable to truly change it. The song Wasted Years depicts the consequences Cooper suffers: 'I'm travellin' on / Far and wide / But now it seems / I'm just a stranger to myself / And all the things I sometimes do / It isn't me but someone else'. He finds himself slipping away further and further as he travels through different realities in pursuit of Laura, forever struggling against Judy's machinations. 

    This is the recurring theme in both Somewhere In Time and the Twin Peaks finale - one cannot hope to maintain their sense of self and their true identity when time is distorted. Peoples' identities are tied inextricably to the time and space in which they live, so to alter either of these things is to alter one's identity as well, until eventually there is no identity. Lynch's view of this matter, however, seems to be a little more pessimistic than Iron Maiden's, as the album's finale, Alexander the Great - who 'became a legend amongst mortal men' - reminds us that even if we ourselves do not know who we are, we're never truly erased from time because we are able to live on in the memories of others.

[Best Of] Top 30 Songs of 2016

30. Future - Who (feat. Young Thug) - Trap Rap

29. Pinegrove - Old Friends - Indie Rock, Alt-Country

28. Rejjie Snow - Pink Beetle - Hip Hop

27. Crying - Wool in the Wash - Power Pop

26. Leon Vynehall - Saxony - Deep House

25. Rae Sremmurd - By Chance - Trap Rap

24. Frank Ocean - Solo - Alternative R&B



23. Explosions in the Sky - The Ecstatics - Post-Rock

22. Chance the Rapper - Mixtape (feat. Young Thug & Lil Yachty) - Trap Rap

21. Run the Jewels - Legend Has It - Hardcore Hip Hop

20. Lil Yachty - Minnesota (Remix) [feat. Young Thug, Quavo & Skippa Da Flippa] - Trap Rap

19. James Blake - I Need A Forest Fire (feat. Bon Iver) - Alternative R&B

18. DRAM - Broccoli (feat. Lil Yachty) - Trap Rap

17. Noname - Reality Check (feat. Eryn Allen Kane & Akenya) - Hip Hop, Alternative R&B

16. A Tribe Called Quest - We The People... - Hip Hop

15. Kaytranada - You're the One (feat. Syd) - Alternative R&B

14. Kanye West - Ultralight Beam - Alternative R&B, Hip Hop


13. The Avalanches - Because I'm Me (feat. Camp Lo) - Plunderphonics, Hip Hop

12. Travis Scott - Coordinate - Trap Rap



11. Domo Genesis - DAPPER (feat. Anderson .Paak) - Hip Hop, Alternative R&B

10. Tennis - In The Morning I'll Be Better - Indie Pop

9. Touché Amoré - New Halloween - Post-Hardcore, Emo

8. Jeff Rosenstock - I Did Something Weird Last Night - Pop Punk

7. Maggie Rogers - Alaska - Art Pop

6. David Bowie - Lazarus - Art Rock

5. Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam - A 1000 Times - Indie Rock

4. Angel Olsen - Shut Up Kiss Me - Indie Rock

3. Danny Brown - Ain't It Funny - Experimental Hip Hop

2. Childish Gambino - Redbone - Synth Funk, Neo-Soul

1. Young Thug - For My People (feat. Duke) - Trap Rap

[Article] Smoked Out, Locced Out: The Legacy of Memphis Rap

    

    It's typically understood that New York City, Los Angeles and Atlanta constitute the holy trinity of hip hop cities, with any honorable mentions being reserved for Chicago or Houston. The chapter in hip hop history written by Memphis, however, seems to get overlooked all too often for its brevity and negligible commercial success. But to limit one's impression of Southern hip hop to Outkast and UGK is to ignore the unrivaled variation that is present in the area. 

    Since the east coast had claimed Boom Bap and the west coast G-Funk, it was up to the South to validate and distinguish itself as a competitive force within the genre. Before Outkast's skyrocketing popularity at the beginning of the '00s, the South was frequently written off as a third wheel in hip hop. This unwarranted degradation hardened the psyche of Southern artists and perpetuated them to create sounds that no other rappers or producers would have imagined. To this day, the most original and provocative hip hop tends to emerge from the South in spite of lingering coastal elitism.

    Memphis, above all other cities in the '90s, embodied this drive to be different and adopted a DIY culture of producing and distributing music without the help of record labels. This is the reason there are hardly any Memphis rap albums available on CD or vinyl - the genre was almost entirely restricted to cassette tapes that were passed around on the streets. Naturally, this made it less accessible and resulted in a very raw and unpolished sound, but these factors only served to redouble intrigue among fans.

   While certainly borrowing elements from Miami bass and horrorcore, Memphis rap managed to set itself apart from the rest of hip hop in numerous ways, and has since influenced countless other artists. The sound was so unlike anything that had came before and was at least fifteen years ahead of its time, a large reason why it never gained any real mainstream traction outside of Memphis.

    The now ubiquitous triplet flow utilized by popular trap rappers like Migos and Future was originated by Lord Infamous of Three 6 Mafia in the early '90s (actually '89, according to DJ Paul) - two decades before it would start to catch on in other circles. That's not to say others didn't try to mimic the flow, however. Bone Thugs n' Harmony, the Cleveland group who experienced much more commercial success than any Memphis rapper of the '90s, was accused of hijacking the technique by a number of Memphis rap's most vaunted figures. After Bone Thugs slighted them in a Vibe magazine interview, Three 6 Mafia themselves released a diss track in '95 entitled Live By Yo Rep ("But first, I wanna slowly pull off all yo' skin / Get grease and boil it hot, pour it on you and yo' dead friends"), and Tommy Wright III dropped the vicious Thuggish Ruggish Bustaz a year later ("Keep Tennessee up out yo' mouth next time a magazine ask you for a comment / We gonna see you if you can still rap fast when I snatch yo' tongue out from yo' stomach"). A sense of identity in Memphis rap had already formed, and its creators were determined to defend it.

    The production they employed was lo-fi and bass-heavy but managed to really distinguish itself by being both downtempo and conservative on samples as well. When a sample was used it was to serve a very specific purpose. For example, the Tommy Wright III track above bitingly incorporates samples of Bone Thugs' hooks as parts of the disses. Horn and piano samples were most common, often pitched down to fit the eerie atmosphere entrenched in the music. But movie sound bites were also taken advantage of, none more so perhaps than those flipped by the groundbreaking DJ Paul of Three 6. Fuckin Wit Dis Click samples a menacing thunderstorm, Sweet Robbery (pt. 2) a maniacal laugh, and Mystic Stylez a Beavis and Butthead interchange. 

    Artists further carved out their own lane by avoiding some of the lyrical tropes of the genre. Of course, they would discuss sex, drugs and violence, but always with a sense of nihilism rather than celebration. The raps were decidedly not party-oriented and were frequently quite graphic and disturbed. Memphis rap was the first to openly and regularly address feelings of isolation and depression, topics which were virtually taboo in the braggadocio of early hip hop. 

    Such candidness can be endearing, but was taken to extremes in the vivid and visceral depictions of violence. The evident anguish that these rappers were undergoing from a sort of neglected street PTSD weighed heavily on them, manifesting itself in these horrific images and impassioned characterizations of their depression.

    Take Lowdown da Sinista's Going Thru A Thing, for instance, as it embodies a number of these notions - "But time and time again, once in a while you might hear me cry / It's not because I'm soft, it's because I wanna die". In admitting suicidal thoughts we see him not seeking assistance or sympathy but rather having to immediately defend his masculinity because of how unspeakable it was at the time to concede any sort of weaknesses. Lowdown further exemplifies his cynicism and hopelessness when he tell us of his tendency to "Reminisce about the good times when we was youngstas / Growin' up to be some killas and some crack hustlas".

    In the quintessential Late Nite Tip, Koopsta Knicca displays even more vulnerability - "Always kinda lonely, someone want me, hold me / I said, come near, come near, come here, the Koopsta cryin' tears / I can't think positive when no one cares of how I feel". Thus was the burden of one's grief being muted by the expectations of a black man in hip hop.

    These lyrical themes, as well as the grim, lo-fi production and anti-establishment disposition of the genre, liken it to black metal. But within Southern rap it has been immeasurably important, influencing nearly every subsequent development from crunk to trap rap. As a result, Memphis rap has aged incredibly well; many of its songs sound as if they could easily be mistaken for modern trap.

    Beyond these technical points there are a number of finer details and idiosyncrasies to be appreciated in Memphis rap. Much of it so difficult to track down and feels so roughly cut that you get the impression you're the only person whose ever listened to it, and that somewhat allows you to identify with the artists' loneliness. There are plenty of aggressive tracks that might convince you to Find A Hoe or Blow A Niggaz Ass Off, but then there are tracks like Da Summa that are so delicately hypnotic they seem to put you in a trance and slow time to a crawl.

    One of the most interesting facets of the genre is the curious proportion of women and children within it, and the fact that they seem to be even more offensive in hopes of compensating for their status as such. Rappers like Lil Gin and Lil Yo put out music well beyond their years at only thirteen. No less than two members of Three 6 were female - Gangsta Boo "The Devil's Daughter" and La Chat - and both were only sixteen when the group's debut album was released. The Legend Lady J dropped the classic Glock N My Hand tape in '94 and Tha Boss Bitch delivered Psycho during the transition point between Memphis rap and crunk. Then there are the mystery cases like Lady Bee, who many believe to be a transvestite alter-ego of Kingpin Skinny Pimp. This inclusion of both women and children, at a time when the rest of hip hop was still almost male-exclusive, is a powerful testament to how important the sound was to Memphis and how willingly defiant it was of any current trends. It managed to advance the boundaries of hip hop not only musically, but culturally as well.

    Unfortunately, Memphis rap's local popularity faded around the turn of the century as most of its artists either adapted and were absorbed into the Crunk movement or returned to the streets and abandoned their musical careers entirely. Its aesthetic, however, has been resurrected by other American acts such as Lil Ugly Mane and Denzel Curry and has even spawned popular Finnish offshoots. There is certainly something nostalgic in losing the independent mixtape culture of the streets to the internet, but this has also allowed the genre to live on in spite of its scarce physical media by introducing it to a whole other generation of fans that wouldn't otherwise have access to it.
     

[Article] Doo-Wop: A Sound Repressed

    

    If someone was to ask what my favorite type of music was I would likely say hip hop out of instinct, but if I answered truthfully I would be more inclined to say doo-wop. Genres that emphasize vocals, especially in unique deliveries or complex arrangements, seem to pique my interest much more quickly than others. Doo-wop, in all of its deceptive simplicity, was the first of this sort to do so. 

    Hearing The Penguins' Earth Angel in Back to the Future as a kid was instantly mesmerizing despite not having any clue what it was that I was listening to. The style somehow had a warm and familiar feel - in part due to its influence on most layered harmonies in music since, from The Supremes to Bone Thugs n' Harmony. The effortlessness with which the singers seemed to weave in and out of each other and the overall ethereal atmosphere were what drew me in initially, but over the years I have come to appreciate it much more fully for its surprisingly nuanced depth.

    Often misperceived and denounced as mere bubblegum pop jingles due to the genre's light-hearted, onomatopoeic name (though, to be sure, some of its best songs are of this nature), it is really quite layered and conflicted in its lyrical substance. Laying at the pivot point of early rock n' roll and soul music, it is a sound recklessly youthful and desperately sincere all at once. At its very core the entire genre is about longing, giving it an inherent nostalgia which has only been exacerbated by the subsequent romanticism the 50s have undergone. The unabashed rawness, smokiness and fuzziness of the production solidify this warm, nostalgic atmosphere that instantly transports the listener. 

    Nowhere is this captured more convincingly perhaps than on The Playmates' Jo Ann with its crying saxophone - the desperate yearning of the singer mirrored by that of his nostalgic listeners. This alignment of performer and audience is articulated by Little Caesar & The Romans in Those Oldies But Goodies: "The songs of the past bring back memories of you / Forever they will haunt me, but what can I do?". The songs about haunting memories become haunting memories themselves; and the vast wealth of doo-wop songs that are optimistic about love (often exceedingly so) become tainted with a certain fatalism after one is familiar with the darker dispositions of the style that come to light in the aftermath of such misguided faith.

    It is imperative to realize, however, that the vast majority of doo-wop singers were males between the ages of 12 and 25 at the time of recording. Thus, it's unsurprising that the ubiquitous experience of adolescent naiveté encountering its first real test in heartbreak is captured by their music better than any other. This theme is tackled directly in many of doo-wop's most recognizable hits, such as A Teenager In Love by Dion & The Belmonts or My True Story by The Jive Five, where the artists woefully see love's turbulence seeping into all other aspects of their lives.

    But despite this inevitably being a recipe for melodrama, the music is capable of being dark and heavy in a very real way that it seldom gets credit for because of how elated it sounds on the surface. Most fascinating of all are the characters that embody this dichotomy of the genre - Billy Myles' The Joker and The Platters' The Great Pretender both suffer a jovial facade for the sake of normalcy when internally they are torn and depressed. 

    The tragic Joker "...plays a winning part, while memories crush his heart / Yet he goes on laughing like a clown". He vows: "...till you're mine once again, dear / Make-believe is all my life will be / Ha ha ha ha ha ha". The Joker is willing to live this duplicitous, 'make-believe' life in an effort to maintain his own sanity (which, given his maniacal laughing, may already be in question). His outward gaiety is merely a defense mechanism against his own anxiety; he is determined to act as though nothing has changed in order to prevent truly experiencing the grief this woman's departure has caused him. A shallow response to disguise the deep, internal anguish - this is the essence of doo-wop's struggle.

    Ostensibly the music appears upbeat and hopeful most of the time. But when one immerses themselves in it they discover the melancholic tones dispersed throughout, as if the artists were much more distraught than than they were willing to let on. One gets the sense that any 'manufactured' aspect of the genre is exactly that, and that a legitimate and urgent pain is swelling underneath the smooth R&B guise. The striking contrast of commanding instrumentals and whispered fears is what makes doo-wop so intriguing.

    There's something to be said for this Joker character, who is personified in modern day icons such as Robin Williams. Those who carry the immense burden of constantly being looked to to maintain the happiness of others without ever having that outlet themselves are bound to be outweighed by it eventually. These individuals who constantly supply and exude happiness can actually be the most devoid of it because of the consequent emotional drain and the fear that their unhappiness would not be tolerated by others. It is a repressed depression, reminiscent of doo-wop's own conundrum, which was addressed by artists even earlier than Billy Myles' Joker.

    In fact, The Platters' The Great Pretender - who is essentially the same character as The Joker - predates him by a full two years, coming to fruition in 1955. He claims: "Just laughin' and gay like the clown / I seem to be what I'm not, you see / I'm wearing my heart like a crown / Pretending that you're still around (still around)". The first line immediately evokes the image of The Joker, but the last line is the most telling as The Great Pretender reveals his peers' implicit support in their echo of 'still around'. He is directly acknowledging his illusions while his friends, rather than trying to dissuade him actually reinforce them, making his delusion that much harder to distinguish from reality.

    Like The Joker, The Great Pretender also relies on the 'make-believe' as a defense mechanism: "Too real is this feeling of make-believe / Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal". He completely circumvents the pain of his reality in numbness; rather than allowing himself to feel loss he allows himself to feel nothing at all. Therefore, his pain becomes inescapable and his delusions become inextricable from reality - much like how challenging it is to differentiate the triumphant from the tortured in doo-wop. These two characters elucidate how the artists themselves felt about the genre's own tendency to feign happiness.

    The dichotomy is also perfectly encapsulated by a song like The Jarmels' A Little Bit of Soap, in which a seemingly innocent enough track is really crawling with despair: "A little bit of soap will never, never, never ever begin / To take away the hurt that I feel, as I go through the lonely years". The song contrasts the impermanence of a woman's perfume and lipstick with the unrelenting scar she can leave in one's memory - lasting not months but years in this case. 
    
    There are countless other examples that convey this same internal struggle of restrained depression among doo-wop artists. We see it manifest in both delivery and theme, with vocalists often caricaturizing their losses as vicious hallucinations and nightmares. The Jive Bombers' neurotic Bad Boy belts out the chorus as if he's losing his mind; The Innocents' lead is so impassioned he stumbles over his own lyrics in Sleeping Beauty; and The Nutmegs' lead outdoes him still, sounding as if on the verge of tears in Story Untold. The Skyliners' Since I Don't Have You expresses a total dependence on one's partner: "I don't have plans and schemes, I don't have hopes and dreams / I don't have anything, since I don't have you". The Citadels' When I Woke Up This Morning in its purely a cappella form is a haunting cry of loneliness and self-doubt: "When I woke up this morning, you were not there / When I woke up this morning, you were not by my side". 

    Such pervasiveness of a misleading joyous atmosphere can be found in other sounds like choral and dream pop, but nowhere quite as succinctly as in doo-wop. Its depth can easily be perceived and appreciated from the singers' emotional conflicts which parrot those of the the genre itself. Many of these artists adopted a single approach when coping with both the grief of personal loss and the demands of the recording industry - pretending to be happy. The almost excessive joy of doo-wop can be understood as an attempt by its artists to compensate for that which they had been deprived of in their own lives, justifying and emboldening the genre's unbelievable level of passion.

Sanctuary - I Am Going To Love Him [1983]

Sanctuary proves to be our most elusive artist yet; all that's known about him - or her, or them - is that they released this single, I Am Going To Love Him, in 1983 on the Los Angeles label Montage Records. Mixed by legendary pop producer Nick Martinelli, the record is classified as boogie, which is a soulful, downtempo form of disco that will appeal to fans of Quincy Jones' pioneering work on Off The Wall. The joint male/female vocals are catchy but ultimately overshadowed by the immediately ear-grabbing production. The groovy, bass-driven instrumental, sounding like something a young MF DOOM would have sampled, was well ahead of its time with its layered synth and guitar melodies.

Little Stevie Wonder - Castles In The Sand [1964]

The iconic Stevie Wonder is beloved for his string of timeless singles spanning more than six decades, and especially his 70s streak of classic albums. Much less attention, however, is given to his early period as Little Stevie Wonder, a moniker which he employed for his first four albums and dropped in time for his breakthrough single Uptight in '65. His final album under the name, Stevie At The Beach, came at the height of the Beach Boys hysteria. Indicative of his long future in genre-defying, he built on his earlier jazz, soul and rhythm & blues influences by further incorporating pop, rock n' roll, and even doo-wop. Castles In The Sand does a brilliant job of opening the record as a 14-year old Stevie delivers his heartfelt pleas over a gorgeous string section.

Irfan - Day To Pray [2015]

Irfan are a five-piece band from Sofia, Bulgaria that have released three genre-bending projects since their inception in '01. The Eternal Return, their most recent effort, is a masterful melting pot of Western, Middle Eastern and Balkan influences - combining neoclassical darkwave, Balkan folk music, Persian classical music and ominous Byzantine chants into a coherent and gripping package. With the rhythm and atmosphere of a well-orchestrated black metal track, Day To Pray is slightly more militant than the rest of their catalogue but still leaves the listener with an accurate impression of their foreboding, theatrical sonic arrangements.

The Nonce - Keep It On [1995]

The Nonce aka Da Nonce aka Topology Crew were an L.A. hip hop duo that blessed us with merely one album before disappearing - World Ultimate. This record was released during the height of the jazz rap trend that had permeated the entire country, but like much of the genre it tends to sound east coast due to the instrumentals and flows. Though one can clearly see how state-mates like Digital Underground, Souls of Mischief and The Pharcyde had a hand in influencing their spontaneous, free-flowing sound. The album never received quite the same reverence as projects from these groups but the mellow, nocturnal vibes showcased here on Keep It On are just as potent. The two MCs may not be the most technically proficient but their Phife & Tip-like energy and chemistry are more than enough to compensate for that.

J-Green & Slikk - Southside [2009]

2009's Draped Up: The Underground Album was a remarkable collaboration between Georgia artists J-Green and Slikk that, due to sounding like a Mystic Stylez homage before Mystic Stylez homages were cool, failed to garner mainstream rap's attention. The sound they defined, or rather redefined, on this tape would set the stage for Memphis rap's resurgence through artists like Lil Ugly Mane, Raider Klan (of whom J-Green is now a member) and even A$AP Rocky. The album consists of 17 tracks featuring a number of their affiliates, including Trigg Mafia, T-Rock and Pimp Deezy. Slikk, however, whose the MC featured on this track, distinguishes himself with his impeccable flows and commanding southern drawl. The instrumental pivots around a menacing horn sample and a DJ Screw-like hook that actually references the late Houston pioneer.

Close Lobsters - A Prophecy [1987]

The five members of UK's Close Lobsters released two jangle pop pillars in the late 80s before quietly going their separate ways. Foxheads Stalk This Land, their debut record, featured subdued but emotive vocals, immaculate pop hooks, and instrumentation resembling a more upbeat Smiths/Cure hybrid. In its relatively more relaxed delivery, A Prophecy manages to stand out as especially addictive with its stream-of-conscious lyrics and phenomenal lead guitar work.

Homeshake - Heat [2015]

Check out Montreal's very own Homeshake and their lead single Heat off of their third LP Midnight Snack. Wielding a flawless blend of lo-fi indie, alternative R&B, and electropop, the group delivers a smooth, nostalgic track perfect to vibe out to. Contrary to the name of the song, it's well-suited to a chilly, winter night with its distant vocals and melancholic melody. 

The Flares - Foot Stomping [1961]

In memory of the late great David Bowie, here's one of the many forgotten 60s classics that inspired his legendary catalog of music. The Flares were an L.A. doo-wop group that released a mere two singles in their career, but this one managed to become ingrained in rock n' roll history via those it influenced. It's rumored that Bowie listened to the song incessantly while in studio sessions with John Lennon, and the result was his first #1 hit - Fame. This is supported by the fact that in 1974 Bowie covered the song on the Dick Cavett Show using an instrumental almost identical to that of Fame.

The Newfound Interest in Connecticut - I Can Hear Your Footsteps Just Outside Camp - a Sah, Sah, Sah... [2005]

The Newfound Interest In Connecticut were a five-piece midwest emo band from Toronto that quietly released one stellar album, Tell Me About The Long Dark Path Home, in 2005 and then split up. Falling in line with the dozens of other 00s artists that opted for increasingly lengthier titles, there is a passionate flair throughout the record evidenced by its intensity, which occasionally verges on sloppiness but only to the songs' merit. In a genre where the voice of the vocalist can often make or break a band's sound, The Newfound Interest In Connecticut were fortunate to find a fitting one in Matt King. By skillfully blending emo with post-rock and post-hardcore trends of the time they manage to render their instrumentals much more technical and interesting than was popular while drawing comparisons to another beloved one-album wonder of the genre, American Football.

Charlotte Cardin - Les Échardes [2015]

Don't miss up-and-coming Montreal singer-songwriter Charlotte Cardin's most compelling performance to date - Les Échardes (translation: The Shards). While the track rests on modest percussion and glistening piano chords, it is carried by her beautiful, sprawling vocals which are playful yet incredibly powerful.

[Article] In Defense of Young Thug: Why Lyricism Is Not The Be-All And End-All

Innumerable articles have already been devoted to the polarizing enigma of today’s most fascinating rapper - Young Thug. But the majority of these tend to focus on superfluous aspects of his career such as his sexuality, his beefs, or his fashion sense. Not enough effort has been dedicated towards defending the incredible artistry apparent throughout his work and especially his output in 2015, his most prolific year to date.

Young Thug is singular in the rap game; there are no easy comparisons to be drawn. He’s a baffling amalgamation of so many opposing styles and influences that it’s impossible to pinpoint what it is that makes him so special. However, his popular appeal among children and foreigners speaks volumes about his non-lyrical strengths – namely an uncanny ear for melody matched with an unparalleled ability to adapt to any instrumental thrown at him.

We’ve already witnessed his effortless dexterity over traditional trap (Halftime, Danny Glover), minimalist trap (Givenchy), ethereal cloud rap (Raw), and even UK bass (Good Times), which leads one to believe that Young Thug could take the most obscure thrash metal riff or saxophone solo and turn it into something with massive pop appeal. His delivery is so uniquely flexible that he can easily fit it to any type of music – this has never been witnessed before in hip hop. As a result, many fail to understand his inherent genius and take the shortcut of denouncing him for not being an enunciated or world-class lyricist.

But what these dissenters fail to realize is that Young Thug is not concerned with lyricism – the semantics of his raps are clearly in the periphery. Unlike any rapper before him, he places phonetics directly in the spotlight so that it’s about what sounds good, not about the meaning of those sounds. He uses his voice as an instrument, bending it with ridiculous inflections and effects, constantly switching between complicated but infectious flows, and then supplementing it all with hilarious ad-libs.

Rather than focusing on his frequently inaudible and occasionally nonsensical lyrics, listeners should appreciate his music as the complete picture that it is, where his voice simply adds to the depth of the instrumental by weaving in and out of its pockets and revealing melodies that no one else could have imagined. The fact that he does all this improvisationally – that is, by essentially freestyling each bar then refining it until he gets the perfect inflection and placement of each syllable – only confirms his massive arsenal of innate talent.

Even though lyricism can often take a backseat in other genres, hip hop listeners typically have a difficult time overlooking it. But one can point to other artists that use their vocals purely as an instrument – from the beautiful gibberish of Sigur Rós to that of Cocteau Twins – and even to entire genres that do so such as opera, doo wop, vocal jazz, and many forms of metal, in order to realize that what Young Thug is doing is not entirely new. It’s only new to hip hop. Young Thug challenges listeners in a way no prior rapper has - his music encourages us to view vocals as a means to an end, not an end in itself that necessitates a deeper meaning.

It’s all too easy to get caught up in lyricism and dismiss those who aren’t as eloquent as, say MF DOOM or Pharoahe Monch, but this ignorance is based on the mistaken assumption that vocals equal lyrics, that without lofty lyricism vocals serve no purpose. But to equate the two is merely to look at one aspect of vocals in hip hop, ignoring the numerous others that carry just as much weight, such as voice, delivery, flow, versatility, catchiness - all facets which Young Thug has managed to perfect in his very short career.

Young Thug, an ATLien if there ever was one, will remain dividing listeners and pushing the boundaries of rap outwards as he continues his relentless string of evolving releases. But even if one isn’t able to fully appreciate his music, they should at least respect his unique and well-deserved place in today’s rap game as a trailblazer, a risk taker, and a master of his art.

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For those of you not yet fully acquainted with Thugger, here are some of my favorite tracks that I believe best showcase his ability. If you want a full project I would strongly recommend Slime Season.

Good Times

Danny Glover

Halftime

Givenchy

Raw (Might Just)