Features – Impact 89FM | WDBM-FM: Recent Episodes
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As we barrel towards midsummer, East Lansing begins to sound a little desolate. After the student population disperses to hometowns, vacations and study abroad trips, an uncanny quiet drapes over the town. The nightly pulse of rave beats subsides, vague garage-guitars vanish and shows stall to a halt. And yet, if you know where to look, you can find life. Ironically, I found it most recently at a local venue — The Kript.
After a wild showing, which my partner and friends described as the “Zappa-meets-B52s mayhem” from the first act, “F*** Them Crabs,” local band “Go!” took the stage. After a brief introduction, the three-piece band barreled into “Your Cage,” a rollicking original which had evidently undergone a name change since its last appearance (if you know, you know…). It boasted blistering, Unrest-esque guitar lines spun by Andrew Wade under hilarious lyrics delivered with fantastic sincerity by bassist Sofi Levi.
After kicking off raucous and bullet-speed, the set continued with “Jam 2,” a tight and minimal session of live improv by the trio. It was mainly led by Andrew Wade, who pivoted into a more focused mode of playing while still maintaining a frenetic, garage-y quality. Ned Bryant’s drumming held the jam together as he worked to intuit his bandmates’ moves, complete with a smattering of understated but rhythmically impressive fills.
Before moving on, one of the remarkable factors of the band’s performance was that they were not actually accustomed to being a trio, playing while down secondary guitarist and lyricist, Sasha Wade. Generating such a full sound with just three members, it’s exciting to imagine how the reunited band will sound.
Next was “Sofi’s Dream,” which forsook the twisted grooves of the two former songs in favor of plodding, atmospheric instrumentation. With just the three instruments and Sofi Levi’s hushed, spoken-word lyrics, the song seemed to expand and echo into something far larger than the sum of its parts. It was difficult not to be lulled into a hypnotized sway, only occasionally broken by colorful guitar flourishes in between vocal passages. Surreal and beautiful, it proved a lyrical highlight even against the covers that followed.
Diving back into improvisational territory, the band continued with “Jam 2.” This time, led by Sofi, it sustained a rolling rhythm, building and building towards a chorused-up bass solo around the four and a half minute mark. Filled with what felt like a jazz musician’s intuition, dark and smartly atonal, it ended with a series of hoots and hollers from the crowd.
The set ended with two midwestern covers: Defiance, Ohio’s “The Condition” and Paul Baribeau’s “I Miss That Band.” As Go!’s bread and butter, they were both heartfelt and joyful, with the latter featuring Ned Bryant standing up from the drumset and taking the microphone— rounding it out such that each member had the opportunity to play vocalist. It was followed by impressive and consistent showings by The Scooter & Liam Band and New Troy, packing the basement with passionate fans.
Throughout the 40-some minute set, the band proved themselves dynamic, musically sound and infinitely committed to visibly having fun. While that may sound trite, East Lansing has developed a niche for crushing, internal, angsty rock, and there’s a unique joy in seeing a band with as many smiles as Go! They were visible everywhere — in nods of approval when a solo went over flawlessly, chuckles at minor flubs and beaming grins before and after the set was done. With a real degree of genuine musicianship to boot, you should keep your eyes on Go! Especially anticipating the return of their fourth member, this band has potential.
I just came to say hello, I’m about to party on you…
Yogna 𑣲⋆ UpDawg .︎ ݁˖
I’m a real pop girlie, no room for posers, pop starrrrrr.
Who wears cheetah? Cheetah = all day, everyday
I’m leavin’ this party, let me go put out some feelers
I want to make the world dance.
I just want you to know who I am
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xoxo foreva
Keen-eyed viewers may have noticed that this playlist… is not 26 songs. If you are supposed to pick your songs in accordance with the year you graduated, it must have sucked graduating in 2001. There has been so much mess in my music taste for these 4 years, so there was no way I could go on without including hits such as: one song from every Broadway show I saw while working at the Wharton Center, some of Toby Fox’s greatest hits, and the song that ended off Dan and Phil’s Terrible Influence Tour. And also the normal songs that I have liked since 2022. Every song on this 64 song playlist has a very specific meaning so if you want to know more send me an email. #itsbeenreal
Each song is associated with a memory I’ve made at MSU, good and bad. I wouldn’t be who I am today without these experiences and I’m forever thankful for my time at Impact, and for the people who were there for me when I was at my lowest. Cherish your time at Impact. You’ll meet your best friends there
With 1.2 million monthly listeners, the name Jim Legaxcy might not mean much to us across the pond, but over in England, one of the best new young artists put out one of the best new rap albums to date.
Jim Legaxcy’s Black British Music is a tour de force of genre-bending and sample use, all coming from a debut LP.
Jim Legaxcy is a 25-year-old rapper from South London. He’s been working in the industry for a couple of years now, releasing mixtapes and producing other songs for big British artists, like helping make Dave and Central Cee’s Sprinter, which took over the internet at the time, surpassing 1 billion streams on Spotify.
Jim Legaxcy released Black British Music on July 18, 2025, quickly becoming part of South London’s summer soundtrack. The album arrives at a time when British rap is expanding globally, and it feels like a statement of that growth. But beyond the genre-bending production, this is ultimately a deeply personal project, something made clear from the very first track, “context.”
“context” is a spoken foreword before the album, setting the scene and mindset Legaxcy had while making this album; talking about the untimely death of his younger sister and the medical struggles his mother went through during production. He then talks about how he has come so far from being homeless and living on the streets to producing one of the biggest British rap songs of the decade.
Ending this song with the lighter note.
“But, you know, you get out of mud, then there’s always gonna be /
There’s always gonna, there’s always gonna be mud, bro, just, hahahaha”
The song has this slow synth production behind it, just emphasizing his words. “context” ends with a hint towards the next song in the album, as you hear lighter notes and words in reverse.
“stick” is the second track on BBM. It starts with this lighter synth and chipmunk vocals. It is the story of a failing relationship that is running both partners’ lives.
“Ever since the rains came crashin’ down /
On the water /
‘Cause my boat can’t take on more water /
So I’m gonna sink.”
Joe Stanley sings the intro, lamenting how the relationship is going. Ever since hardship has hit this couple, the turmoil has caused their connection to strain and even break.
Legaxcy adds to this feeling as he raps,
“Said I’d change, it depends, you said I couldn’t pretend/
Told me that I couldn’t fit in your lifestyle”.
He doesn’t want to change for this girl; his personality and actions have become too much for her, so she has to break it off.
Legaxcy’s attention then shifts from his failing relationship to the idea of pretending in general. He calls out artists for “biting swag,” i.e., stealing ideas or flows but never “sticking”.
Legaxcy says he’s lived this life,
“Saw this when I was a jit, I got evicted and shit /
I was around where the thugs out, givin’ drugs out for the veins /
I had to dance in the rain, yeah, yeah”.
While he hates the idea of pretending, as he can’t pretend for his girl and detests it when other rappers do it, he still falls to the sin of fakeness.
“I’m on the phone with a bad one /
I don’t need her, but I need her”.
We come to realize the album’s theme — identity. Specifically being something you’re not. Trying to hide your feelings, pretending to be strong while your life crumbles around you.
This starts bubbling up as we go through the album, shown explicitly in “issues of trust.”
Starting with just guitar strings and Legaxcy softly humming over them, this is Legaxcy’s biggest genre shift on the album, going from rap and hyperpop to this slower, personal guitar instrumental.
There is an overwhelming melancholy to this track. Legaxcy sings about the grief he’s been going through, especially after the death of his sister.
“I’ve always been scared of being myself /
Of letting my heart speak before I speak.”
“And my heart’s filled with issues of trust when my dad /
When my dad /
I still cannot talk about it”.
Legaxcy has an intense fear of being himself; he puts on a show at all times. He cannot trust that people love him or believe in him, stemming from his father’s abuse, but also intensifying after the loss of his sister.
This is shown through the album’s artistry as Legaxcy struggles to stick to one genre, switching genres throughout and sometimes mid-song.
While his identity issues come from struggles far in the past by now, they’ve come bubbling up again after the recent tragedy.
“Since you left our lives, been blamin’ myself for all the things I said and I never said”.
His sister haunts the album; every self-aggrandizing lyric he sings, or any melancholic harmony he hums, is blanketed with this sorrow from his loss.
He touches on his past trauma in the next song, aptly titled “father.”
This is not only one of his deepest songs on the album, but he also flexes his production skills throughout. Centered around a sample of “I Love My Father” by George Smallwood, which becomes ironic as Legaxcy sings about his relationship with his father, the punchy drums come back in, and the chipmunk vocals are also back.
“Uh, I’m tryna come up off the roads on my own two /
I never had a father, I never had a father.”
“She said I shouldn’t bother, said I shouldn’t bothеr /
Bother, bo-bo-bo-bother”.
This lyric is especially relevant, as Legaxcy uses the “father” sample but makes it sound like “bother,” connecting the idea of his father directly to inadequacy and not trying.
We finally see Legaxcy moving on and growing in his collaboration with rapper Santan Dave on the song “3x” later in the album.
We see this in his first verse on the song as he is proud to be where he is and proud of where he came from.
“Them n*** try send for me /
Envy and jealousy /
Everything I wished upon my enemies /
Pree the blocks that I came up from and I still made it here.”
People are trying to tear him down, but he knows he deserves what he’s earned. This is also a reference to Dave’s song “Wanna Know,” which helped him blow up.
There is an unbreakable pride in where he’s from, emanating throughout the song as he references South London multiple times.
“Shed tears when my sister died /
Nearly made a n** lose his grind /
But my dogs never hung me dry /
Me dry.”
He addresses his sister’s death directly and the effect it had on him, but now he is more hopeful, expressing how his friends helped him get out of the slump.
This song is a tribute to Legaxcy’s growth, as he went through so much making this album and, just in general, throughout his life, but he has come out the other side a stronger and happier person.
This is one of the best experimental hip hop albums to come out in the last decade. Throughout Black British Music, Jim Legaxcy refuses to stay in one lane, jumping between rap, hyperpop, guitar ballads and sample-heavy beats, often within the same song. That willingness to experiment mirrors the chaos and uncertainty he feels in his own life.
This has to become a must-listen for hip-hop fans. It captures the struggle of growing up, dealing with loss, and learning how to move forward without forgetting where you came from.
By the end of the album, Legaxcy does not claim to have all the answers, but he shows resilience and growth through his music.
That honesty, combined with bold experimentation, is what makes Black British Music such a powerful debut and why it deserves to be remembered as one of the defining rap albums of this era.
I cannot overstate how excited I am for Jim Legaxcy’s next projects, as he has cemented himself at the top of the British rap game and is chasing to become one of the top artists in hip-hop overall.
Drowning is like falling through water. You’re not really able to be at peace with it out of fear of your own mortality… but I got gills and always land on my feet so I have no such fear.
If you told me back in 2022 that I would end up joining a radio station, and that one decision would be the single best decision I would make in 22 years on this planet, I would have said you are a liar. This station gave me the opportunity to share the wacky music I love with the world, gave me a chance to meet some artists that have become some of my favorite memories ever, and even gave me the confidence to move to the literal opposite side of the planet for multiple months. My time at MSU would be nothing without Impact, and the impact (pun intended) that all of the people who have walked through those doors in the basement of Holden Hall has changed me for the better, and I have been changed for good.
Back on April 18, on a whim, I went to see Thomas Dolby at Grewal Hall in Lansing. Going into the concert, my knowledge of Dolby was minimal. I’ve grown up getting his “She Blinded Me with Science” confused with Oingo Boingo’s “Weird Science,” and only occasionally hearing his music on MTV’s I Want My 80s.
I was prepared to go into this concert just showing up for a good time. I knew I wouldn’t know many of the songs, and it would be fun just for the vibes. However, what I thought I knew turned out to be completely wrong.
What I wasn’t prepared for going into this concert was being completely in awe the entirety of the show. Dolby didn’t primarily play his songs. Before he came on stage, it was announced that we would not be allowed to record any parts of the show.
When Dolby walked on stage, instead of starting with one of his own songs, he threw the well-known synth intro of New Order’s “Blue Monday” at us. Dolby, or Professor Dolby as he was announced, afterwards explained that the show was not going to be a performance of strictly his music, but more a celebration of the music of the 80s.
Thomas Dolby is currently a professor at Johns Hopkins University. Before the true show began, he explained to us that many of his students relate to his love for the 80s, claiming they love songs such as “Video Killed the Radio Star,” “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” or “Material Girl.” Although these songs are excellent too, Dolby wanted to find a way to provide his view of the 80s to those who weren’t there. This led to his idea for the show — a symphonic compilation/medley of music from the 80s built to encapsulate more of the decade than just the Top 40 Hits.
Gail Ann Dorsey opening before Thomas Dolby comes outAlthough this show didn’t have the symphonic accompaniment that Dolby hopes to have in the future, the band was still star-studded and immensely talented. What drew me to this show leading up to it was Dolby’s bassist, a.k.a David Bowie’s old bassist, Gail Ann Dorsey. She opened the show, playing many of her solo songs and ending with Bowie’s “Space Oddity” so we could all sing along.
Moving into the show itself, there was never a moment where I wasn’t completely blown away. Dolby’s choices from the 80’s are all expertly blended and melded together to make the experience nothing short of pure 80s bliss. I spent the entirety of the show wondering what song he would play next, hoping it would never end.
Between movements, Dolby would pause to share anecdotal moments from his past that connect to the next portion. One of the most memorable was a story from his twenties about how he didn’t really have anyone where he was in California, so he called Michael Jackson and got an invite over to his place. Funny thing about this story, it was the one he told in between the “Little Red Corvette” and “Billie Jean” portions.
One of my absolute favorite moments from the show was at the end of the second movement when Dolby and his band played a wonderful blend of Talking Heads’ “This Must Be the Place” and Dolby’s own “I Love You Goodbye.” What was special, for me, about this portion was how the songs worked together. “This Must Be The Place” is one of my favorite Talking Heads songs, and I’ve grown up surrounded by it. “I Love You Goodbye,” however, is a song I had never heard before. I’ve since found myself obsessively listening to that song while reminiscing on my time with Dolby.
Now, I don’t want to spoil the movements too much, so moving into the encore of the show, we reach my biggest teary moment. If you know me, you know I absolutely adore David Bowie. Going into the encore, Dolby told a story of his time in a helicopter with Bowie before his Live Aid performance. This story was paired with visuals of this day and that classic “Heroes” instrumental we all likely know. I was, of course, reduced to nothing but tears this entire time, adorned in my “I still miss David Bowie shirt.”
Ending the show, Dolby finished off with his song “Airwaves,” thankfully giving me enough time to compose myself before the show finished. Overall, this show was something I could have never been prepared for. It was a testament to the magic of music, and I continuously found myself in awe of both the music itself and the connection it gives us all as fans.
I found myself leaving this show thinking three things:
1 – The 80s truly did have some of the best music we have ever been fortunate enough to listen to.
2 – It’s always remarkable to see how music can bring us together. It can bring together generations, connect so many ideas and bring us all a sense of belonging and togetherness.
3 – When can I go back?
For my friends. To all the dance parties, top-down drives in the bug, and long walks home.
With the end of 2024 rapidly approaching, we’re taking a look back at some of the best albums the year had to offer. Several of our staff members took the time to write about their No. 1 picks, and we hope you’ll find some new favorites among them.
Ashe Burr, Entertainment Editorial AssistantGirl Prometheus by Flower FaceAs the years go on, I’ve found myself questioning what even is love. Is love something that is transactional, where the more love you pour into something else, the more it will love you back? Is it something where it will eat you up until you are simply “Pushing Daisies?” Will giving up a “Skeleton Key” to your heart turn into the sort of “Eternal Sunshine” that accompanies a “Squirrel Cinderella?” Okay, I’ll admit that last one doesn’t make any sense, but much like the Titan with the same name, this album brings a sense of warmth through the rage of a woman scorned.
Ana Wagen, Video Editor/Host of Thee Hourz O’ PowerYou Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To by Knocked LooseKnocked Loose knocked it out of the park (haha get it) with their third album. What’s more refreshing, their raw and chaotic take on hardcore, or their refusal to abandon the scene that raised them? In this ode to the liminal space and going insane in Kentucky, Knocked Loose embraced everything that set them apart. Perhaps that’s what led to their meteoric rise this year: a lack of fear in the face of the unknown.
Rachel Kozlowski, Social Media DirectorBRAT by Charli XCXLife, death, and Charli XCX. 2024 was the year of BRAT, and deservedly so. With all the zeitgeist, it can be ironically easy to overlook the thing that started it all – the music itself.
BRAT is Charli’s most cohesive project to date, reveling in its freeing party girl energy with creativity, introspection, and 100% excitement. It takes you on a sonic journey that will leave you feeling like you had an unforgettable night at the club when you haven’t even left your room. Tracks like “von dutch,” “b2b,” and “club classics” demonstrate why Charli has been held in such high regard by pop-heads for so long. This isn’t just a pop-star, this is an auteur
I remember my first listen-through of the album. After favoriting track after track, I heard the familiar beats to the intro of “360”, thinking the album was over and returned to auto-play recommended songs. But when I realized I was actually listening to “365”, a re-worked version of the intro track, I jumped back in my seat. I knew then that I was listening to a generational, 10/10 masterpiece.
If you haven’t given the album a listen, do your ears a favor and give it a chance. Charli XCX captured lightning in a bottle, “went her own way and made it,” and made the cultural defining album of 2024. If you’re wondering why the album that birthed “Brat Summer” is still being performed at Times Square in November, it’s not just because it is iconic – it is the best album of the year.
Ryan Wilbert, News Editorial AssistantClancy by Twenty One PilotsNamed after the protagonist of a near decade-long narrative in the making, it’d be easy to write off Clancy as nothing more than fan service for the fanbase of Twenty One Pilots. To my surprise — and maybe to many others’ — what happens is the most intimate and deeply confessional record singer-songwriter Tyler Joseph has ever crafted.
Through reflection and careful self-evaluation, Joseph solemnly admits that even after his meteoric rise to success, he too still hears the little voice that haunts the back of your mind. We can’t be ignorant of its name – depression is real and affects the lives of millions. Terrified of what he once fought so hard against when recognizing his struggles resurfacing in his life, our hero, Clancy, becomes less of a myth and more of a vessel – or a writing tool – to help Joseph write a letter of confession.
Bluntness runs rampant through the record, from Joseph’s recollection of his suicide attempt on “Next Semester” to his struggle with addiction on “Vignette.” Clancy doesn’t pull punches – it never ceases to roll up the fears of letting everyone in your life down while soundtracked by desperate optimism. Fighting against falling into old (and bad) habits, “Backslide” parallels the quiet battle of “Snap Back.” It’s the nostalgia of what once was, the places you once loved – like mentioned on “Midwest Indigo,” a track about both loving and hating your hometown – and the early excitement of entering the musical industry. The tracks are subtly tragic, hidden underneath the pop-punk and rock influences.
Sorrow aside, it wouldn’t be a Twenty One Pilots record without a fight worth documenting. As a college student, shouting the lyric “Can’t change what you’ve done / Start fresh next semester” has probably altered my brain chemistry in an indescribable way. As I write this, the weather gets colder, the sun sets at 5 p.m. and I am coated in darkness more metaphorically than literally some nights. Having put this record on repeat so much, I know that Clancy is real – Joseph is Clancy, Clancy is Joseph and Clancy is all of us. And for me, sometimes that’s all I need to keep fighting against the void, hearing Clancy sing “When darkness rolls on you / Push on through.”
Ashmi Ranjan, volunteerBright Future by Adrianne LenkerAdrienne Lenker’s latest solo album is my favorite album of 2024. It’s serene and free flowing. It takes you to a liminal space that seems impossible to reach lately. Lenker utilizes plucky guitars and piano with banjo and violin to bring together her ideas on love, clarity and pain. It’s precisely rooted in our modern troubles: feeling isolated and lonely, the struggle to be peaceful in one’s life among the chaos of the world. Listening to it, however, is to feel close to the natural world and divinity and the desire to understand and be understood.
Bright Future was recorded straight to tape and all the musicians featured are Lenker’s close friends. It’s totally intimate and comforting. It feels like an answer to some of my worries and might help you live with yours too. On “Sadness as a Gift”, Lenker sings:
“You and I could see /
Into the same eternity /
Every second brimming with a majesty”
I’m trying not to lose those connections that could last for eternity, not to lose touch with the majesty in the seconds of my life. It’s been a tough year but music like Bright Future is getting me through.
Sky Curtright, volunteerDiamond Jubilee by Cindy LeeDiamond Jubilee by Cindy LeeI’ve always felt that the most powerful albums are ones that can create their own inner world, and no other album this year has done that quite as vividly as Diamond Jubilee has. Across the album’s gargantuan two-hour runtime, Cindy Lee brings together the sounds of 50s girl groups, 60s psychedelia, 90s lo-fi rock, and much more into an indie magnum opus that is as refreshing as it is hauntingly nostalgic.
More-so than any other album, Diamond Jubilee reminds me of the film and TV works of David Lynch. Both Lynch and Lee have a gift for combining the surreal with the heartfelt, and both are more than willing to dive headfirst into the unknown. With the former being my favorite director, it’s no surprise that I love the music of the latter as much as I do.
Even with the album not being on major streaming services, it has soundtracked lazy summer days and a tumultuous transition into college, and it is without question my favorite album to have come out in 2024.
Rap has long been one of music’s most innovative and influential genres, shaping cultures both in the United States and abroad pushing boundaries. However, the idea that “the only way to win is to beat them at their own game” is a notion that doesn’t seem to apply to Black women in rap. Female rappers consistently face disrespect and systemic disregard despite their evident talent, powerful presence, and ability to excel in key metrics like production quality, lyricism, wordplay, and personality. These women, with their Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve and Talent, are not just contributing to the evolution of rap but excelling in ways that challenge and redefine the space for women in the genre. Yet, even with their remarkable skill, these qualities don’t always translate into acknowledgement or respect in an industry that has historically devalued Black women, often favoring factors other than true merit.
The blatant misogyny and sexism in the rap industry often target sexually explicit artists like Sexyy Red, Lil Kayla and CupcakKe, impeding them from receiving the respect and recognition they deserve. Sexyy Red, in particular, has revitalized the female trap scene with her fresh perspective as she blends genres and infuses new energy into the music. While Nicki Minaj, Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion form the modern-day “holy trinity” of female rap, none embody the distinct influence of trap music quite like Sexyy Red. Sexyy Red’s breakout album, Hood Hottest Princess, was released in June of 2023 and has significantly impacted the charts and streaming platforms since then. It debuted on the Billboard 200 and peaked at No. 62, a strong showing for her first studio album. Several tracks from the album have gained widespread recognition, particularly her single “SkeeYee,” which also climbed to No. 62 on the Billboard Hot 100 and No. 17 on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart. Apart from the album’s charting success, it is one of the strongest sophomore albums in female trap in the past ten years, showing legitimate levels of talent and persona. Sexyy skillfully combines trap’s signature production and 808 beats with her unique cadence, vibrant personality, and enthralling confidence on her tracks. However, vulgar female artists often face harsher judgments from society and are frequently overlooked because of their explicit lyrics and imagery.
The hypersexualization of women in rap began with gangsta rap’s rise in the ‘80s and the genre’s mainstream success in the ‘90s, with artists like Snoop Dogg and Notorious B.I.G. featuring scantily clad women as sexual accessories. By the early 2000s, the “video vixen” trope emerged, with artists such as Nelly and 50 Cent concentrating their videos around women in revealing outfits and suggestive situations.
Such sexism stems from deeply rooted gender stereotypes and a lack of female representation, both reinforced by patriarchal ideals that rigidly define and restrict gender roles. These norms position men as dominant and authoritative, expecting women to be passive and reinforcing male dominance within the industry. Rap often amplifies misogynistic themes, using lyrics that objectify women, glorify violence, and reduce female sexuality to a commodity. However, male rappers are celebrated for their sexual expression, which is portrayed as an extension of their success and dominance. Their hypersexuality is admired as a symbol of freedom and creativity, aligning with the aspirational lifestyles they project. Meanwhile, female rappers face criticism for similar expressions of sexuality, with their talent often diminished by superficial judgements about their appearance. This glaring double standard reinforces a culture that uplifts male perspectives while sidelining women’s contributions, hampering their ability to assert their artistry in a male-driven industry.
This sexual, gender-based paradigm has persisted for years, with female rappers often facing backlash for their sexually explicit music, igniting debates over what constitutes sexual autonomy versus sexual commodification. In her essay, “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” renowned poet and activist Audre Lorde delves into this complex dichotomy, distinguishing between the erotic and the pornographic, offering a profound critique of societal perceptions and their implications. Lorde posits that the erotic is an authentic expression of joy, passion, and creativity, guiding individuals toward a fuller, more meaningful life through work, relationships, and art (88). Thus, the erotic transcends mere lustful desire; it embodies a heightened awareness of what truly fulfills us. However, it is essential to recognize that not all women who engage in sexually explicit work are oppressed or disempowered. Many find empowerment and agency in their choices, challenging the notion that all expressions of sexuality in this realm are inherently degrading.
In contrast, the pornographic often represents a distorted, commodified, and dehumanizing counterpart to the erotic, especially when created from a patriarchal perspective. Characterized by domination and control, the pornographic can alienate individuals from their genuine sexuality, contributing to both desensitization and degradation. These prevailing views of sex and female sexual expression cultivate a culture where women may be conditioned to fear and suppress their erotic power. In this environment, the erotic is frequently mistaken for the pornographic, leading to a disconnection from women’s true selves and desires. However, Lorde may have overlooked a nuance; while many of these songs are indeed explicitly pornographic, they challenge societal norms by allowing women to explore and control their narratives. This act of reclaiming autonomy has historically threatened the patriarchal structure, making society uncomfortable with women using themes that were once tools of oppression. Artists like Sexyy Red, Lil Kayla, and CupcakKe are currently experiencing what Lil’ Kim, Foxy Brown, Trina, and Khia did in the ‘90s and 2000s. Their predecessors were among the first to confront this backlash, pushing boundaries in their lyrics and visuals to reclaim their artistic narratives. In doing so, they transformed the pornographic into a powerful form of self-expression. This tension underscores the ongoing struggle for women to assert their autonomy in a landscape that often seeks to undermine it. .
This situation perpetuates a double standard. Men’s sexuality is considered a display of power, while women’s sexuality is often subject to control, shame, or exploitation. Men can objectify women without consequence, but when women embrace their sexuality, they are labeled “trashy” or “unladylike.” This criticism highlights the patriarchal views that categorize women as either pure “Madonnas” or tainted “whores,” reducing them to binary sexual roles that restrict their recognition as complex individuals. Operating within this framework leaves no room for nuanced identities; women who create sexually explicit music often lose respect and face stigmatization, while men are celebrated as “players,” reinforcing the cultural belief that men’s sexual exploits are praiseworthy, unlike women’s.
Unfortunately, when people make all this unnecessary noise and get uptight, we lose sight of the best part: the music. The explicit and sexually charged lyrics often serve as a barrier to entry for many disapproving listeners, hindering their ability to engage with the true messages these women convey. Their use of literary devices, contextual play and innovative themes push the boundaries of the genre. They demonstrate veritable talent and exceptional creative expression, which is particularly admirable given the vitriol and backlash they often face. Furthermore, these artists showcase a tangible talent that rivals their male counterparts, frequently matching and even surpassing the creative complexity of male artists’ work. By actively challenging the notion that explicit lyrics lack depth, they prove that such content can convey profound messages about identity, empowerment, and resilience.
Sexyy’s tracks like “Looking For The Hoes (Ain’t My Fault)”, “Nachos” and “Female Gucci Mane” showcase Sexyy’s clever lyrical playfulness with production that harkens back to the rap styles of the early 2010s. The beat production on Hood Hottest Princess is akin to Trap’s 2007-17 era. Sexyy’s album has drawn comparisons to Waka Flocka’s 2010 album Flockaveli, Chief Keef’s 2012 album Back from the Dead, and Gucci Mane’s 2017 album Mr. Davis, among others. All of these albums share the heavy use of 808s — the hallmark of trap music — providing that deep, rattling sound. There’s also prevalent use of hi-hats and high percussions, providing a clear, consistent, driving rhythm allowing the artist’s vocals to take center stage. While Hood Hottest Princess is more contemporary and bouncy, the similarities in personality and bravado, particularly in the ad-libs, are more than undoubtedly present.
Apart from the beat technicalities, it’s objectively well-produced music. Grammy-nominated producer Tay Keith is credited on some of Sexyy’s biggest and catchiest hits, such as one of my personal favorites of hers, “Get it Sexyy,” Chief Keef’s track “DAMN SHORTY” (feat. Sexyy Red), “U My Everything” feat. Drake, “Pound Town” and “I Don’t Wanna Be Saved.” These songs embody Sexyy’s vivacious and provocative sound, showcasing her wordplay and lyricism. With her unparalleled persona, commanding presence, exceptional production quality and infectious confidence, she embodies the essence of female trap music, demonstrating the qualities of a genuine pioneer. Or, as Sexyy herself says in “Female Gucci Mane,” “I’m hearin’ hoes’ music and they stealin’ Sexyy bars / I’m drippin’ on these hoes, yea, bitch I got the sauce.”
Lil Kayla, a rising force from the Bay Area, cemented her place in hip-hop with her second album, Wassup. Songs like “One More Chance,” “Conceited,” “That’s Right,” “4000 Degreez” and “3rd Quarter Freestyle” exude an unapologetic and dominant energy often associated with male rappers. At the same time, Lil Kayla challenges the typical rap trope that views women as disposable objects. Through her audacious style, she redefines the narrative, declaring herself with both confidence and defiance. In songs like “Conceited,” she boldly declares, “If you want it come and get it / if you with it you gon’ lick it / throw it up and let him flip it / bring it down and let him kiss it / change my number I go missing / once he lick it imma dis him,” “My mama raised a player, she ain’t raise no dummy / keep a mug on my face cuz really ain’t st funny / Told him long as you keep lickin’ baby imma keep comin’ / and ballers barely don’t impress me cuz I been gettin money” and “Ns yellin’ call me daddy ‘till the period late / bs poppin hella py but they kids ain’t ate / pull the perm out the box it’s time to get s*t straight.” Her artistic prowess shines through on this album, demonstrating that she is a formidable talent, even as she remains unjustly overlooked and unfairly sidelined by the mainstream music industry.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the rapper CupcakKe in this conversation. While much of her notoriety stems from her assertive and explicit lyrics, her recent resurgence can also be attributed to remixes of her songs gaining popularity on TikTok. CupcakKe may not be a trap artist, but she remains an underappreciated talent in the female rap scene. This lack of recognition is primarily due to the sensationalism of her most explicit and widespread hits, like “Deepthroat” and “Vagina,” which unapologetically explore themes of sexual agency. However, her music goes beyond that, addressing issues such as poverty, LGBTQ+ rights and mental health. Her work often blurs the line between the erotic and the pornographic, much like the debates female rappers frequently face around agency and objectification. Despite her provocative content, CupcakKe’s music is celebrated for its humor, wit and empowering messages. Her ability to express her sexuality on her terms makes her a significant voice in conversations about sexual expression in music, especially in the context of female empowerment.
A key yet often overlooked aspect of these artists’ talent is the humor and playfulness woven into their lyricism. They maintain an unabashed, fresh, and cutting-edge sound that not only reshapes female rap, but also influences its creative direction by addressing complex and systemic issues with a jovial and carefree spirit. By blending humor with meaningful topics, they connect with audiences on multiple levels, enriching hip-hop as a whole. These women are pushing the boundaries of musical expression while redefining societal norms surrounding femininity and sexuality in hip-hop, enhancing our understanding of their music beyond mere entertainment. When artistry takes precedence over shock value, listeners can appreciate the depth and nuance in their work. Their complexity elevates their artistry and contributes to hip-hop’s evolution as a platform for diverse voices. In breaking barriers, they reshape the landscape, ensuring that their contributions are celebrated for their creativity and confidence.
If this is the case, why are these women still underappreciated and disrespected? Ideally, one would hope that consistent hard work and demonstrated talent would lead to widespread respect and recognition. Unfortunately, this is not the reality. The rap music industry does not operate on a meritocracy; instead, it is influenced by systemic biases and societal norms that often overshadow the contributions of talented female artists. Their struggles underscore the systemic challenges Black women in rap must navigate to achieve acknowledgment, success and respect.
I have no problem admitting that sexist and misogynistic rap can still unequivocally slap, don’t get it twisted. Sometimes, the going gets tough, and that’s all I want to hear, which is the definition of co-existing truths. Chauvinistic rap can be both unquestionably damaging — socially and psychologically — to those who listen to it, and at the same time, be some of the most bass-thumping, adrenaline-pumping, hard-hitting, nastiest shit you’ve ever heard. Having grown up experiencing and listening to this genre across multiple decades, I recognize and respect its deep foundations in not only pop culture but Black culture as well. I can listen to and enjoy the music without internalizing its messages, instead appreciating the art form and culture it represents, no matter the artist’s gender. This isn’t an argument for people to start listening to sexually explicit music if it’s not their forte, nor is it a call to stop if it is. However, I urge people to examine their biases and any discriminatory attitudes they may hold, especially concerning the artists they choose to respect. By confronting these often subconscious views, we can create a space to truly appreciate and engage with the C.U.N.T songs these women are making.
There’s a clear moral double standard when listener(s) applaud male artists for rapping about certain themes, while female artists are met with condemnation for the same. For example, Megan Thee Stallion and Cardi B faced widespread backlash for their collaboration on “WAP,” and Nicki Minaj endured intense criticism after releasing her hit song “Anaconda.” These reactions highlight a troubling disparity in how society treats women in the music industry. I encourage you to reflect on why you may prefer male rap artists or feel uneasy about certain female rappers. If you find yourself dancing to Sexyy Red in the club on a Friday night but calling her a classless whore in the cold daylight of Monday morning, I urge you to examine the source of your discomfort. Why do you relish this art yet dismiss and disrespect the artist? If you hold female rappers in contempt while placing their male counterparts on a pedestal — that’s misogyny and sexism, plain and simple.
I can’t remember when I first watched Silver Linings Playbook, but ever since then, I have been desperately trying to get everyone I know to watch it. There’s an intrinsically-human grit that the film has throughout that moves viewers to jubilation. The music carries the plot along perfectly. This movie’s score not only enhances every aspect of it, but also is integral to the story.
The score is done by Danny Elfman, who has scored most of Tim Burton’s movies as well as Stephen Anderson’s Meet the Robinsons. Knowing Elfman’s prior work, you can easily imagine the melancholy tunes in the world of Burton, but they’re also perfect for Silver Lining’s modern backdrop. Elfman’s score plays when Pat and Tiffany run into each other while jogging, each chronicling their mistakes and regrets, making jabs at who has it worse. His score also plays when Pat begs Tiffany to give his ex-wife a letter in a diner, and they stand under a streetlight on Halloween. The score reflects feeling so close to what you want, and not being able to break with the past. The dialogue and movements seem to be in conversation with Elfman’s score, like when your life is soundtracked to whatever you’re listening to in your headphones.
The movie’s crux is actually based around the song that was playing when Pat discovered his wife was cheating on him: “My Cherie Amour” by Stevie Wonder. Whenever Pat hears the song in public — which cruelly happens twice in the movie — he experiences a panic attack. The song was actually written when Wonder was attending a school for the blind in Lansing, which makes me feel even closer to this story. Pat is distraught that this song, of all songs, is attached to the worst moment of his life. He’s embarrassed at how a smooth jazz-elevator song affects him so much. The lyrics are kind of flippant and inconsequential:
“My Cherie Amour, lovely as a summer day /
My cherie amour, distant as the milky way.”
The chorus is just “la la la,” but more than that, it’s just sincere and earnest. Pat aches for the time when the song was only a song. Tiffany convinces Pat to enter a dance competition with her, and in turn, she will give Pat’s ex-wife a letter he wrote to her. Tiffany asks Pat, “Are you going to let this song haunt you for the rest of your life, this silly song?” Music can do that.
Silver Linings Playbook has one of my favorite montages in cinema, and a montage is only as good as the song that plays over it. “Girl From the North Country” is an utterly perfect, yet an unusual choice. Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash’s rendition is soulful and rugged, yet has a sincere sweetness about it. What’s so charming about this film is its utter sincerity. “Girl From the North Country” is about the girl that got away, but the speaker knows she’s gone and only wishes the best for her. Cash sings:
“If you go when the snowflakes fall /
When the rivers freeze and summer ends /
Please see for me if she’s wearing a coat, so warm /
To keep her from the howling winds.”
There’s a tender, precious, and intimate montage of Pat and Tiffany practicing their routine for the dance competition, as Dylan and Cash sing, “She was once a true love of mine.” The montage ends — as all things do — but the lyrics linger.
The music here is spare and simple, but swelling with emotion. Silver Linings Playbook is a feel good movie that should live among classics like Good Will Hunting and Little Miss Sunshine. I am petitioning for it to join the canon of classic end-of-year films! It will leave you feeling inspired and a bit closer to humanity. Before you rewatch Dead Poets Society again this autumn, put on Silver Linings Playbook, and get ready to sing along to some Stevie Wonder.
As the leaves begin to turn and fall and the air begins to chill, calendars flip to reveal the spooky joy of October. Class is in full swing, homework is piling up and exams loom over the heads of many. Autumn has officially arrived.
While adjusting to the shift, members of the Impact took a moment to reminisce on their summers, carefully selecting the song that defined their summer. Let these selections serve as one last fleeting glance at the freedom and warmth of summer, and remind you of what awaits us next June.
To listen to our 2024 Songs of the Summer playlist, check out the link at the bottom of this article. But first, feel free to reminisce and reflect with us, if you so choose:
Ashe Burr – “The Kids are Alright” by Ayra Starr
Every summer seems to have its own theme. Mine, for all three of these articles at least, has been wild. My first summer was spent stressing about my friendships scattering across the nation. Last year, I was fighting a losing battle with a manager who didn’t seem to care about the state of my mental or physical well-being. Little did me a year ago realize that my summer’s themes were the first two stages of grief. Denial and anger were so prevalent that I anticipated bargaining would be the one for this year. Or at least depression. But nope, it was acceptance.
In my mixtape, Crying on the Subway Halfway Across the World From Everything You Know, I mentioned how sitting on the subway from Chubu Centrair International Airport to Nagoya Station, I finally came to terms with the fact that I was quite literally on the other side of the planet from all of my friends and family. But what I didn’t mention is that I was listening to The Year I Turned 21 by Ayra Starr at the same time. As soon as “The Kids are Alright” came on, I finally came to terms with my situation.
The opening monologue that Ayra’s mother said reflected a conversation between my dad and I a couple of days before I left for Japan. I swear, hearing it in Nagoya gave me a stronger sense of déjà vu than anything I could imagine. And then the closing conversations. The messages between Ayra’s siblings to her deceased father, telling him about how they are doing and what their lives have been like really just hit in ways I couldn’t even expect.
Comfort can come from so many different places, even when it isn’t intended. Ayra wrote this song to help come to terms with her father’s passing. I had just landed after my third flight to my final destination, at least for the week. I don’t really show emotion, yet this made me cry like a waterfall. On the subway. Halfway across the world from everything I knew.
Ryan Wilbert – “Timeline” by hey, nothing
Oh, where to begin? Coming off the heels of my first year at college, I confidently set foot into what would be the longest summer I have ever experienced — literally. Sweatshirts and jeans plague the memory of my early summer weeks in April, something that seems completely foreign to my exhaustion of shorts and t-shirts in the scalding weeks that rounded out August. Therefore, it feels like the life I experienced at the start of the summer is an entirely different chapter than the one I am ending now — somehow.
So, what song really captures the entirety of my summer? Initially, I figured it would be any track by my recent obsession, Jake Minch, and his ability to be somberly reflective yet utterly immediate in his songwriting — but I wasn’t that blue (I hope). Maybe it’s my personal song of the year, “Next Semester” by Twenty One Pilots, a track that captures both pop-punk energy and the classic ukulele lamenting that only Tyler Joseph can pull off. But it would be wrong not to consider something like “Easier to Love You” by Porter Robinson, a little-too-close-to-home song with synth lines both 12-year-old and 18-year-old me go feral over.
Ah! Damn me for feeling too much this summer! If only there were one song that had just the right amount of longing and melancholy, yet general optimism for the future! Yeah, if you didn’t figure it out by now, here’s where “Timeline” by hey, nothing comes knocking on the proverbial door of my summer.
Indie-folk influences with simple chord progressions used so masterfully it won’t leave your head? Check. Beautiful vocal harmonies with a little rasp? Check. Lyrics that convey a deep desire to be more for yourself and in the eyes of another? Check. This song is like my child; I feel responsible for protecting it. If I don’t listen to this song at least once a week, I think I’ll go insane. That slight twinge of bittersweetness we taste in the fleeting moments we have with the people we meet, the very people we yearn to get closer to, combined with the inherent dissociation of the present that arises when traveling — this song nails these themes down into the ground with such clairvoyance, it’s upsettingly impressive.
I think my issue is that I like to fly among the clouds more than I like resting on the ground. Sometimes I just can’t let go of the little things. Chapters bleed into one another when they all consist of the same dreams I become bedazzled by. The only way I can distinguish the months these days is the length of my hair. So, as I pray for the summer heat to leave my sight, it’s clear this song will continue to pepper my fall semester with a general yearning I am incapable of escaping — and, hey, if it’s this catchy, I’m boarding the plane to my headspace, no questions asked.
Sky Curtright – “OTHERSIDE” by Bladee & Sickboyrari
One would think that an album with the word “cold” in its title wouldn’t be the best for summer listening, but Swedish rapper Bladee’s most recent release COLD VISIONS, ended up being my soundtrack for the hottest days of the year. I’ve been a fan of Bladee’s uniquely icy and atmospheric take on hip-hop since my freshman year of high school, so his dropping an album reflecting on his decade-long career as I prepared to enter my freshman year of college felt like something of a full-circle moment.
Due to its lengthy 30-song tracklist, picking just one song from COLD VISIONS for this article was something of a challenge. I felt a lot of strange, conflicting emotions during this gap between high school and college, but what song would best define those? Would it be a song like “KING NOTHINGG” or “TERRIBLE EXCELLENCE,” with their apocalyptic bass and desperate flows? Those songs certainly connected with me, but would the ethereal synths of “LUCKY LUKE” or the emotional lyricism of “FLATLINE” better represent the bittersweet ocean of feelings I found myself in? Ultimately, I landed on “OTHERSIDE,” a song that I believe brings together all of these elements into one of the most compelling tracks of Bladee’s entire career.
With a beat produced by F1LTHY and Lukrative — two figures who have pushed the sound of modern hip hop to new futuristic heights — “OTHERSIDE” immediately grabbed my attention when I first heard it. While many stylistically similar songs have failed to take advantage of this initial intrigue, Bladee effortlessly carries the momentum provided to him by the instrumental. His verse is characteristically introspective, delving into his troubled mental state with a sense of urgency that was seldom seen on previous releases of his.
“Nothing works, but sleep don’t hurt /
Dirty life, baptized in dirt /
In my soul, a growing hole /
Void that spreads out of control /
Panic, that became the norm /
Out of fear, a child is born /
Only calm once in the storm /
Faith in stars I can’t afford /
Time pass by and brought me more /
Yet, I’m weaker than before.”
This combination of a pounding beat with semi-poetic lyricism makes up the bulk of the track (and of COLD VISIONS as a whole), but Bladee’s frequent changes in delivery and eccentric ad-libs make sure the song never feels static. Further shaking things up, fellow cloud rap pioneer Sickboyrari (A.K.A. Black Kray) contributes a verse that, while being much briefer and more superficial than Bladee’s section, still acts as a welcome addition and a strong close to the song.
If I’m being totally honest, I didn’t really do that much over the summer. I spent the first few weeks decompressing from my senior year of high school, and the second half was largely dominated by a job that I mostly got because I didn’t have anything better to do. Through this time period that was simultaneously boring and filled with anxiety, “OTHERSIDE” seemed to speak to me no matter what mood I was in. Whether it played while I was driving to work, while I was lying aimlessly in my bed, or during the occasions when I was able to combat my social inertia and actually do anything, it grounded me, acting as a mental refresh of sorts. No matter what mental state I was in when I was listening to it, one thing always remained true: it went hard.
Abby Cheng – “Mango Tree” by Zac Brown Band feat. Sara Bareilles
A hot summer day’s best friend is a good country playlist. While that may be an unpopular opinion amongst many, I firmly believe that driving with your windows down when it’s 80 degrees out and not playing country music is a criminal act.
My summer consisted of leaving work and driving home with my windows down on the highway, blasting a country artist’s discography. It was this randomized shuffle of an artist that led me to hear “Mango Tree” by Zac Brown Band featuring Sara Bareilles. At first, I thought my Spotify had glitched, as this song immediately begins with a jazzy instrumental featuring blaring trumpets. Instantly, I was hooked on this song, and the lead singer, Zac Brown, had the country rasp paired with an upbeat melody. Then Sara Bareilles joins in, bringing a higher pitch to the song which would get anyone obsessed with this song if they weren’t already.
As someone who had never listened to jazz music before, this song was something different, unique and the perfect summer song. I restarted the song before it even finished to take it in again. Since starting college, summer feels more like an extension of school rather than a break. It gets filled with internships and resume-building events rather than hanging out with your friends at all times of the day. This song would help me unwind after a long day of work while also exciting me for plans that brought back the fun part of summer. Regardless of your love or hate for country music, this song will change your mind on country artists, so give it a listen on your next drive with the windows down.
Brooke Racine – “Back to Oz” by Sufjan Stevens and Angelo De Augustine
My summer was great, don’t get me wrong, but it had a hectic start. An unsuccessful search for a summer job — because apparently I need a Ph.D. to make a cup of coffee — my best friend moving to New York City for the summer, and a reconfiguration of hometown friendships left me in a mindset I had never experienced before. I was the type of kid who couldn’t wait to grow up; I would cry in a restaurant if given a kid’s cup. I was suddenly hit with the realization that this was my last summer of no obligations, the last summer of genuine freedom before a future of internships and grown-up jobs. This loss of childhood consumed my every thought.
“Back to Oz” was written by Sufjan Stevens and Angelo De Augustine after watching Return to Oz (1985). As the title implies, Dorothy returns to Oz but finds it in shambles. Stevens and Augustine use the movie as inspiration for a song about lost innocence and the fear of forgetting a former self — a self that’s protected from the mundane, humdrum and harsh reality of the world. The song reflects a desire to return to a time of childlike wonder and to experience that same joy that once seemed normal.
I find myself relating to Dorothy and her shock returning to a decaying world that once was tremendous. It seems as though childhood and its associated memories are slipping away, and it’s almost impossible to recapture that former essence. Though I reminisce on the past and wish that things stayed the way they were, time moves on, and I must as well.
Though the song deals with somber concepts, it also, in contrast, features a whimsical guitar and a relaxed and groovy instrumental that distracts from the heavy lyrical content. I threw this song onto so many collaborative and personal playlists, which I associate with a wide collection of amazing and beautiful memories I made this summer. Strengthened friendships, late-night drives alone and stupid, but ultimately worth it, decisions defined my summer. I can look back and yearn for the past, but I have a lifetime of memories to look forward to. I’m not fully over this infatuation with the past and the fear of growing up, but this summer has taught me to embrace what’s to come.
The future is unwritten, and that’s a good thing.
Ashmi Ranjan – “Murder of One” by Counting Crows
I graduated from high school this summer. The days just kept on coming until there were no more left. I worked with a dear friend at the art center in my hometown. We were counselors looking after spoiled children, some of whom became dear to me. The center is housed in what used to be a water purification plant surrounded by lush greenery. The sunlight poured through the huge classroom windows. I felt lucky to be there.
My friend and I supervised the kids during their recess. We laid on the impossibly green grass, talking about our dreams and fears. The kids would sit around us when they got tired of running around. They’d ask to braid my hair and sit in my lap. For some reason, I felt as though I had no future, but I felt a vast emotion for the children and what life held for them. When I remembered I would soon be leaving all this behind — these streets I memorized, the park where I fell in love for the first time — it became clear that my life is only beginning. I couldn’t help feeling like I wanted to reject the rest of my life and stay on the grass with my friend and these kids.
You may know Counting Crows best from being included on the Shrek 2 soundtrack, which is kind of perfect because Counting Crows is reminiscent of that cozy early 2000s nostalgia, like old Barnes & Noble and Zoup! Lead singer Adam Duritz’s voice is like your uncle telling you everything is going to be okay after your mom yells at you. But “Murder of One” specifically is so soulful and desperate for a long-gone past. When I drove home from work listening to this song, I always cried. Sometimes, I feel horrified at how I’ll never be 16 again. Duritz sings:
“All your life was a shame, shame, shame. /
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream”
Reading it on your computer the words might feel cold and mean, but when Adam sings it to me, I feel seen and held. I say, yes! Yes, my life feels like a shame and my love feels like a dream! But Adam assures me, “you don’t wanna waste your life” Oh, but it is a daunting task to turn all this nothingness into something.
At the end of art camp, we had a show. I got up on a ladder and hung up what we spent the whole summer creating. It was hard to see it all up like that, knowing they’d all leave and I’d never see them again. It was kind of magical, too. And when it was all over, I hung up my name tag and signed out for the last time. I walked past the grass we laid on all summer long, listening to “Murder of One.” I thought, how can anyone let go of anything? Surely, I can’t walk through my life with everything I hold precious on my back, knowing I’ll never have it again. At the end of “Murder of One,” Adam Duritz just sings the word “change” over and over again. In a way, he’s lamenting and grieving this painful thing we all must face, but he’s also telling us, begging us, to change. It’s the only way we get through this life.
TJ Peterson – “Houston” by Still Woozy
Still Woozy, over the years, has been with me through thick and thin. Without fail, his tracks always manage to be the highlight of one of my dramatic internal transformative periods. To put into further context how awkwardly obsessed I am, I can confidently say my favorite song in general — currently — is “Pool” (2022) by Still Woozy and Remi Wolf. I have listened to it countless times and in a complicated way, it means the world to me. So, I’m sure you can imagine my excitement when I heard Still Woozy was not only releasing a new album this summer, but going on tour! You couldn’t find someone more excited. I nearly singlehandedly crashed the ticket website.
Because this is meant to be personal, I will share that at the time, I was in a long-term relationship. I was also in the midst of my internship, researching weather and forecasting, which occupied a lot of my summer. Once the album was finally released, I would play Loveseat from the start almost religiously on my way home from research. I looked forward most to the upbeat tracks, such as “Again,” “Baby,” or “All Your Life.” But, my unlikely song of the summer, “Houston,” stood out from the album for its shift in tone.
I find it funny that not until recently did I really care much for the song, but weirdly, it stuck with me throughout the summer. I vividly remember one afternoon pondering over the song’s last verse:
“I’m always coming back /
To places that we sat / When we spoke of our future /
May not have ended up / How we dreamt it up /
But maybe that’s ok.”
In an eerie way, the verse felt like a precursor to something ahead, which to this day I find so odd since at that time everything was fine. Unfortunately, as I’m sure you can guess, summer started to wrap up, and things changed. Perhaps the future outlook granted to me by the verse was something I felt deeply, coming inevitably. Yet, when it happened, it was still a surprise. It’s unfortunate that just days before the breakup was the concert, which we attended together. Thankfully, at the time, I enjoyed it, but now it is a little hard to think back on. But like I said before, Still Woozy is with me through thick and thin.
I don’t need a lie tonight /
Might not be your fault /
But it’s not mine /
Maybe I’ll stop tryin’.
Today, I don’t find myself going back to this song; maybe it’s too soon. I do find it interesting how much the song parallels the emotion at the end of the relationship. So even if it wasn’t a song I had on repeat back then, when I do think of this last summer, I’m always drawn back to this oddly fate-filled melody.
Ryan Beylerian – “Do Nothing – Single Version” by The Specials
My summer vacation was soundtracked by two distinct sounds: The Beach Boys and ska. I had been introduced to ska music in the past through the outburst of popular ska tunes in the UK during the post-punk era, but I hadn’t immersed myself within the scene entirely; I had barely cut my teeth on the giant imprint that Jamaica had left on the musical world. The Beach Boys’ easy-going tunes would’ve been perfect to write about, but The Specials, a ska band originating from the UK in the late ‘70s, and their song, “Do Nothing,” takes the pedestal as my track of the summer.
“Do Nothing” has a particular sense of lethargy about it. A laid-back tempo floats along the bars with guitars springing out on upbeats in classic ska fashion. The drum groove is mostly kept to a light shuffle, aside from some energetic flourishes here and there. The groove of the track makes me want to simultaneously jump around in a half-time skank — an ‘80s ska dance staple — and laze about on the couch. I like the mix used for the single over the album release because it adds a soaring synth that fills in the emptier spots of the instrumentation, as well as a layer of melancholy to the overall upbeat tune. The synth pairs well with Jerry Dammers’ piano part, which weaves in between synth phrases. The piano poses questions to the other groups of instruments in the ensemble, which they respond to with an air of fluidity that suggests the player has performed these sorts of bluesy lines numerous times. It reminds me of some ragtime player riling up a crowd in a bar on a weekly basis. Halfway through the song, Rico Rodriguez is provided a verse-worth of bars for a soulful trombone solo, which rides behind the rest of the instrumentation, adding color here and there in a Harrison-esque manner.
Coinciding with the apathetic mood of the music, Lynval Golding’s lyrics express a discomfort in the passivity he finds himself and his community in. He communicates a tension in trying to find a purpose in our lives amid the stasis of indifference. The lyrics ring true for me, especially during a time like the dog days of summer, where thoughts of school or my future career are set on the back burner. I find myself in that same frame of mood, that nothing ever changes when I’m walking around aimlessly in my neighborhood during the middle of the day, or driving home from my job after the same weekly schedules. The song is cathartic in that sense and perfectly encapsulates the moods or thinking one might experience in the middle of an uneventful summer.
Noelle Simonelli – “Tokai” by Taeko Onuki
Thinking back on my summer, it felt nearly impossible to encapsulate it all in one song. I spent time with friends, went to concerts, worked and did online classes, but the most significant thing I did this summer was spend a month completely immersing myself in Japanese culture through study abroad. From the sweeping mountains and vast rice fields of the countryside to the bustling and electric cityscapes of Tokyo, Japan enthralled me and welcomed me to a whole new world of exploration and learning I couldn’t be more grateful to have experienced. So, I thought this song would be a lovely pick to highlight the bright and upbeat joy my summer was painted in.
Taeko Onuki was wildly successful in the Japanese ‘70s and ‘80s city pop scene. Blending the electric energy of Japanese city pop and the mellow jazz melodies, this song travels across Japan, finding a way to connect with each location we explored.
While in Japan, I focused my studies on music and the customs and traditions surrounding it in Japanese culture. I dove into the music that defines each region, whether it be the traditional drums and bowls played at Buddhist temples in southern Japan, or the fast-paced city pop enveloping busy cities such as Tokyo and Osaka.
Although there was an abundance of songs I considered for my selection, I landed on this one for the fond memories it will forever carry. My summer of 2024 will bring back memories of lush, mountainous landscapes, camping by the sea, cooking with Japanese students and running around Japanese cities and towns attempting to discover every special nook and cranny. I’ll always have fond and unforgettable memories from this summer — even if I never got my mixtape out to show it — and I’m excited to see what memories next summer brings to the table to challenge this one.
Oftentimes, the best things that happen to us come serendipitously. Whether it be stepping into a little hole-in-the-wall and discovering a community that you didn’t know existed, or following a friend to a club meeting that you didn’t plan on going to and finding everything you were looking for and a seemingly infinite amount of other events like this. These spontaneous moments can bring people who may have never met into each other’s lives.
This style of spontaneity was on full display at birddog.’s performance at the Basement. Liv was first introduced to the zoology student at an open mic event hosted by the UAB at the MSU Union. Their artistry clearly struck a chord, as we welcomed birddog. to the Basement a mere 3 days later. I was unfortunately not able to make it to the open mic event, but the moment I saw his setup — a simple acoustic guitar and harmonica — I knew we were in for a treat.
As soon as he plucked the opening chords to the opening song of his set, “Boys Smoking Cigarettes,” a wave of tranquility rushed over me, reminiscent of the emotions that come to me when I’m hiking in places where there’s no cell service and the only music is that of the birds chirping harmonizing with the howling wind and the percussion of dried leaves and twigs.
At the station, The Basement usually is a massive event. Numerous people come to the station to socialize and converse with each other, with the live music bringing an incredibly unique atmosphere that is nearly impossible to recreate. However, this time, everyone in the Broadcast Studio just sat transfixed, hypnotized by the music pouring out from birddog.’s guitar and harmonica, only interrupted by comments along the lines of “this is incredible.”
birddog.’s music is an amalgamation of his lived experiences. While he is a student here in East Lansing, he came to MSU from Montana after moving there from Texas. He mentioned Texas, where he spent most of his fundamental years, left the biggest influence on his music. His folk and Americana style truly showcases this. Some of his biggest influences, such as artists like Tim McGraw, Luke Combs, Zach Bryan and more, would be incredibly proud of what he’s been making.
Moving across the nation multiple times can make it hard to find a sense of community. Throw in growing up queer in the South, and it adds to the difficulty. However, he managed to find it in a coffee shop in Oklahoma, where his parents currently live. Though he only went there a handful of times, the sense of community that he found there was something he brought with him to Michigan.
The vast beauty of Montana also left a major impact on his music. From working in Yellowstone with the Montana Conservation Corps clearing weeds and restoring a geyser, to a canyon in Bozeman lending its name to my favorite song from his session, “Hyalite.” His love of nature also followed him to Michigan. Though not explicitly about Michigan, “Lake” was also featured in his setlist. When asked about his favorite nature spot near Lansing, he said Sleepy Hollow State Park, which is centered on Lake Ovid in Clinton Township. A great choice given the fact his show in the Basement happened in mid-September. He mentioned that the slightly spooky air lends itself to the immaculate vibes that he loves.
If birddog.’s love for nature wasn’t obvious enough, he also performed a song entitled “Mary Oliver,” a poet who found inspiration in nature and let the natural world speak for itself in her poems. Poetry is also an important part of birddog.’s writing style, as all of his original works initially begin as poems. Once the poems are finalized, he then goes back in with his guitar and harmonica and fleshes out his ideas.
Though music has been a part of his life for most of his life, he released his first song on streaming platforms, “Secondhand,” a mere four days after performing in the Basement. “Secondhand” was initially written as a part of his creative writing final in high school, and he chose to unveil that song first as it’s one of his oldest tracks, as well as one that he feels the most comfortable performing.
Though he may just be getting started as a performer, the sky’s the limit for birddog. If you want to stay tuned to what’s next for him, you can follow him on Instagram at birddog.music, as well as supporting him on Spotify and YouTube.
The Concrete Boys’ breakup will forever stand as one of our generation’s biggest “what ifs.” Head member Lil Yatchy assembled the group sometime in late 2021, including artists Camo!, KARRAHBOO, Dc2trill, and Draft Day. With their debut album, It’s Us Vol. 1, out and the group splitting within a year, it begs the question: was there more in the vault? Over the past decade, few musicians have shown the versatility and talent Yatchy has, but is his most true and consistent form of success to be only found behind the spotlight?
We hadn’t seen a group like “Crete” in nearly 20 years, as they brought a distinct image and sound reminiscent of Young Money’s rise in 2005, with members like Drake, Nicki Minaj, Tyga, and founder Lil Wayne. Concrete Boys first made their unified group presence known by launching their Instagram on Feb. 7, 2024, fueling anticipation for their debut album months before its release. One of the biggest things that set the group apart besides their flow and production was their individual rapping strength. Every last one of their songs sounded like a group project where everybody pulled up prepared. They mastered the blend of sounding so cohesive yet distinct—a breath of fresh air in the rap scene.
Rap is evolving with the emergence of many new subgenres, heavily influenced by the iconic sounds of the 2010s — a decade widely regarded as one of the most impactful periods of hip hop, shaping the careers of some of today’s most prominent artists. The 2010s guided names like Lil Wayne, Kendrick Lamar, Drake, J. Cole, Tyler the Creator, and sounds of the like into the next echelon, cementing their legendary status and opening up the ground spots for new talent. In the mid-2010s, a new sound was born with the rising popularity of the streaming platform Soundcloud, birthing names like Travis Scott, Playboi Carti, Lil Uzi Vert, Ski Mask the Slump God, and many more. If you were tapped in during that era, you would know how unprecedented and chaotic this time in music felt — loud booming basses and raw, unpolished styles popularized. Although this era produced several standout solo artists, it lacked the formation of any notable groups
Concrete Boys mastered blending the classic 2010s rap production with a fresh, laid-back flow that seems to chase the beat. Their style draws comparisons to Detroit rap, characterized by a relaxed cadence and quick delivery, contrasting with the aggressive snare drums and hard-hitting basslines. This created a perfectly unique sound where their distinct and chill flow seamlessly interacts with the intensity of the underlying production. This approach aligns with Yatchy’s 2021 Detroit-style album Michigan Boy Boat. Their almost monotone delivery combined with trap-inspired, classical, and jazz-influenced beats was setting the stage for a potential new genre, pushing boundaries of what rap could sound like.
It should be acknowledged that Karrahboo was the only one in the group who had no prior rapping experience. All the other members had already begun their careers by the time the group debuted on YouTube. Although Yachty was clearly the headliner, the potential for each member’s solo success was already in motion before they came together. Their appearance on On The Radar Radio was the beginning of it all, spawning the “On the Radar Concrete Cypher” in October 2023. Not long after the YouTube release, clips of the performance started going viral on the internet. Karrahboo’s verse was most viral at the end of the performance, with the slowed saxophone solo ushering in some of her best bars of the group’s short-lived career, including the trademark Karrah bar: “It’s KARRAHBOO, I’m not the two, you gotta know I’m up.”
This was the breakthrough Concrete needed, and the public embraced it wholeheartedly. Their raps and image merged fluidly, forming a tight-knit, unshakeable family — truly “solid to the bone,” with a bond evident from the beginning. Their catchphrase, “It’s us,” which appears in many of their songs, symbolizes staying true to oneself while coming together as one family at the end of the day. During a Spotify interview with Rap Caviar, Yatchy explains the phrase as “we’re all independent artists, but it looks like and feels like a rap group under one name.”
Nuthin’ 2 Prove by Lil Yachty – Album coverOn Dec. 15, the group dropped a Christmas single, “MO JAMS”, with the distinctive and viral sound they had mastered on the cypher — the effortless integration of snare drums, boom bap, and classical hip-hop chords. Once again, they used the tried and true sequence of nonchalant cadences with hard bars having Karrah’s verse last, which was another instant hit. It’s crucial to remember that Karrahboo debatably had the strongest verse on the track when they were on their run, dropping singles. Her lyricism and wordplay were second to none. It seemed like the group had endless potential, and this was just the beginning. A few months later, in April of 2024, the group dropped their debut album, It’s Us Vol. 1. I remember hearing the album for the first time and instantly falling in love with the sound. It was fun, youthful, and flagrant but not overproduced or artificial. It featured several standout tracks, including their first viral hit, “ON THE RADAR CONCRETE CYPHER”, as well as “WHERE YO DADDY?”, “DIALED IN, NOT DA 2”, and “2 HANDS 2 EYES 10 WHIPS/RENT DUE”, with nearly all of them featuring Karrahboo. Tracks like “2 HANDS 2 EYES 10 WHIPS/RENT DUE, MY LIFE”, and “DIALED IN” mainly showcase their skillful fusion of jazz and trap elements in their beats. Tracks like “NOT DA 2” and “POINT ME TO IT” highlight the group’s modern interpretation of beatmatching.
Shortly after their debut album, the group announced a small nationwide tour that began in early summer. By mid-July, after a few shows, Karrahboo posted on Instagram that she wouldn’t be able to attend some upcoming dates, sparking speculation about a possible breakup. Just over a week later, Yatchy went live on Instagram to confirm that Karrahboo was no longer part of Concrete and stated he would not comment further on the split. In the live, he emphasized how he wished the best for her career and that there was no bad blood between the group and Karrah. However, his explanation was insufficient for the internet, and rumors of the group bullying Karrah started to spread on social media.
It wasn’t until Karrah started publicly accusing the group of bullying her and claiming that the group owed her money that all hell broke loose on the situation and sparked the end of Concrete Boys as we know it on Aug. 22, 2024. Yatchy went live and exposed Karrah for her abusive behavior, rude attitude, and overall disrespect towards others, particularly those who were not in positions to stand up to her. He highlighted that this behavior persisted throughout the entirety of the group. He mentioned how she had been verbally abusive and rude to his security team and record label on more than one occasion. He also addressed her allegations that the group owed her money by accusing her of being over $900,000 in debt to the label. Crashing out on Instagram Live, he revealed the most damaging truth for the group, particularly for Karrahboo. He confessed that he had been orchestrating the group’s entire image, from styling their outfits for every public appearance to writing all of Karrahboo’s raps. He specifically mentioned the “On the Radar Freestyle,” explaining how he wrote her verse and made her rehearse it the night before to ensure she wouldn’t mess up during the live cypher. To provide undeniable evidence, he uploaded a recording of himself rapping her verse word for word from his iPhone voice memos. The hype of Karrah was shattered when clips of the Instagram live started surfacing on the internet over the next few days.
Following the online dispute, Karrah has largely avoided directly addressing the allegations made by Yatchy. Instead, she has focused on performing and promoting the songs she has written herself. To those who have closely followed the situation, this chain of events appears to signal the end of Concrete Boys, leaving fans like me to only speculate about what might have been.
Throughout the group’s short-lived run, it was clear to any Lil Yatchy fan that he was instrumental in shaping their creative directions, branding, sound, and image. From their fashion choices to music videos, every detail bore Yatchys unmistakable style, leaving his mark on every part of their work. The title of their debut album, It’s Us Vol. 1, even hinted at plans for long-term collaboration. Considering Yachty’s invested effort in assembling the group and dedicating his time, money, and resources, it’s hard to believe he intended for their career to end within a year.
It’s important to note that this isn’t Yachty’s first time trying to start a group, and it backfired on him. In 2016, Yatchy began a group called Sailing Boys, including Kodie Shane, Burberry Perry, and Jban$2Turnt, but they gained minimal traction as a group, and Yatchy decided to try his hand at a solo career. Later that year, he achieved his first charting hit, “Broccoli” – a 7x platinum song co-written and performed with the artist DRAM. Since 2016, Lil Yachty’s sound and abilities have expanded significantly. He’s released several albums and has been featured on various tracks, exploring a wide range of genres, including trap, Detroit rap, psychedelic funk rock, indie, EDM, hyperpop, and almost every conglomerate in between.
He has found the most consistent and long-standing success as a writer. Being accredited for co-writing iconic, genre-shaping hits like “Act Up” by the City Girls, “Gucci Flip Flops” by Bhad Baby, “From the D to the A” by Tee Grizzley, and “iSpy” by Kyle. Yatchy is also credited on several hit songs off the 2022 Drake and 21 Savage album Her Loss, including songs “Circo Loco”, “Jumbotron Sht Poppin”, “Major Distribution”, and “Puy and Millions”. His burgeoning success as a producer began with his 2023 experimental psychedelic funk rock album Let’s Start Here*. This album solidified Yatchy’s multifaceted musical capabilities, proving to disapproving voices that he was more than just a rapper. Some of the most streamed and popular tracks, like “the BLACK seminole.” and “drive ME crazy!” were produced by Lil Yachty.
Yachty’s tumultuous history of trying to start collective careers leads even the most avid of fans to question whether his greatest and most consistent success lies behind the scenes. The rapid rise of the Concrete Boys can be attributed to not only their musical talent but also to their branding, showcasing Yatchy’s affinity for merging music, visuals, and culture in a way that resonates with a broad audience. As branding becomes increasingly crucial in the music industry, Yatchy’s role as a creative director, writer, and producer may have matched, if not surpassed, his role as a performer. His profound impact on Crete — evident in their distinct sound and compelling image — strongly suggests that his greatest influence could indeed be his skill in crafting and guiding the creative vision of those around him. While his musical talents are incontestable, could his true genius lie within his capability to craft the image and direction of others?
Hold on for dear life, because the shé is coming to play. The Kenyan multi-instrumentalist KABEAUSHÉ is many things, but they are a live performer at heart. Pulsating beats and enthralling visuals capture the minds of listeners, both first-time and veterans alike, and continues to keep them on board for the full ride.
Kabochi Gitau, the man behind KABEAUSHÉ, sat down with us and gave us a glimpse into the world of KABEAUSHÉ. We discussed his debut music video being shot in a Belgian castle, the importance of cross-cultural collaboration, who’s going to do the dishes since they aren’t going to do themselves, and so much more.
KABEAUSHÉ’s music is available on all major streaming platforms, and you can check out both The Coming of Gaze and HOLD ON FOR DEER LIFE, THERE’S A BLCAK BOY BEHIND YOU! on Bandcamp as well.
It has been about four years since Dua Lipa released her last album, Future Nostalgia, which featured the hit single “Levitating” and cemented her as one of the leaders of a new generation of pop stars. Dua Lipa provided an overall solid album Radical Optimism which is mixed with old familiar sounds from Future Nostalgia, as well as some new sounding songs to showcase a fresh side of her, as well as her growth as an artist.
Dua Lipa focused on the theme of love with her new record. There are many different parts of love and relationships she sings about. On the opening track, “End of an Era,” she sings about a new part of her love life marking the start of something new. No more alone time or searching for someone to love. During the track, “Anything For Love,” she sings about the thoughts when getting in a new relationship, or simply just being in one. Many people who have been in relationships have felt the same way, where maybe things aren’t as good as they used to be but they keep trying until eventually parting ways. Dua notes she wants someone in it for the long run and wants to keep loving her forever.
“And I’m not interested in a love that gives up so easily
I want a love that’s set on keeping me” and
“We’re all so scared of forever
And no one promises always
We’re not perfect together
That means we’ve gotta part ways
Remember when we used to do anything for love?
Another stage of a relationship is seeing your old partner move on, now happy with someone else. Lipa addresses this on “Happy For You.” Seeing an ex with someone new and smiling again can be very emotional for anyone who has been in that situation. She comes to a realization how much she loved her ex and although they moved on she is happy for them. “
Now I know everything was real
I’m not mad, I’m not hurt
You got everything you deserve
I must’ve loved you more than I ever knew
I’m happy for you”
One thing that I loved about Future Nostalgia was the high energy psychedelic pop sounds. Many songs made me just want to get up, move around and dance. I have that same feeling for Radical Optimism. This is a fun way to sing about the good and bad parts of relationships. The album itself has also come out in time for the summer and it gives out a solid pop album to rock out to on the boat or rolling the windows down on a long car ride.
With that being said, I would like to note the production and overall vocals. One track where the production is top notch is the song “Houdini.” During many parts of the song, we get an electric synth in the background that really shines towards the end of the song, making it sound like one of her classic psychedelic pop sounds. One song that surprised me was ‘Anything For Love.” The beginning of the song makes listeners think it would be slow, with a piano playing. Then suddenly the beat drops and Lipa shines with her storytelling and vocals. It is probably my favorite song on the album. “Illusion” is another example of stellar production. For starters, the song has such a high tempo beat, which even has a part where you can clap, as displayed in the music video. But there is more than that to this song. At the end, we get more electronic synths setting the stage to release your energy and just move.
Overall, I felt that Radical Optimism was fresh and full of sounds and production styles that are new to her fans. Her overall songwriting seems more mature, which helps listeners relate. As a fan of hers, I feel like it is an overall good album to listen to when you have felt the same feelings she writes about, but do not want to wallow and be down in the dumps. It is an album for when you want to feel energized about new beginnings and relationships. There is no slowing down for Dua Lipa anytime soon. As she continues to put out new music, you can always expect something fun and full of different flavors of pop.
When Mannequin Pussy announced a US tour for their album I Got Heaven in January, I knew I had to go. That became even clearer when I saw they were going to be playing in my hometown of Madison, Wisconsin–not just giving me an excuse to go home, but also to rope my indie-loving twin into it, too.
After using this show as fuel to keep trucking through my hellish spring semester, May 8 finally came. One awkward dinner at an eerily empty vegan restaurant later, we meandered from one end of downtown Madison to another to get in line an hour and a half before doors. This was to ensure that I had plenty of time to deal with credentials-related stress, but it turned out to be essential to gaining a prime location in general admission.
Once I got through the doors, I found Majestic Theatre to be beautiful but small. Those in general admission could stand right against the stage, no barricade. After tucking myself in a prime spot right in front of the stage, I looked up and saw a large seated balcony. As more attendees filed in, the venue bumped party music, including “Crazy Frog” by Axel F (reminding me of our March interview with Between Friends).
Soul Glo put on an opening-act masterclass. Frontman Pierce Jordan captivated the audience. Even if he wasn’t making eye contact with me, it felt as if he was speaking right to me. Jordan also jumped into the audience in the middle of the set, providing enough chaos to get the crowd on board.
I will say, Soul Glo appealed more to the tried-and-true punks in attendance. I could tell some audience members either weren’t acquainted with their work, or don’t like Mannequin Pussy for their hardcore influences. This was further demonstrated by the mostly white audience, which Jordan didn’t shy away from acknowledging. He went out of his way to shout out “the three n—” in attendance.
Either way, Soul Glo left an impact. Many, including my sibling, left their set saying “I need to listen to them.”
Gallery • 10 PhotosSoul Glo performs at the Majestic Theatre in Madison, WI on May 8th, 2024. Photo / Ana WagenMannequin Pussy had an I Got Heaven-heavy setlist, which made sense, but left me feeling like I should have studied before I came to the show. They set the tone with “I Don’t Know You,” then going straight into “Sometimes” and “Nothing Like” — 3 out of 4 singles right off the bat.
The opening riff of “Patience” sent a buzz through the crowd, and that energy was carried into “Drunk II” and “Control.” The audience screamed along to every word, all venting together.
Gallery • 8 PhotosMannequin Pussy performs at the Majestic Theatre in Madison, WI on May 8th, 2024. Photo / Ana WagenAs we got into the middle of the set, a couple observations came to mind. One, while my spot in the audience was great for taking photos, the audio mix I experienced left something to be desired. It was hard for me to make out any of the vocals unless Missy (AKA Marisa Dabice) was belting, making it difficult to follow along to the less-familiar songs.
Secondly, between songs, some audience members felt the need to shout “Missy, you’re so hot!” These interjections made me uncomfortable, as they miss the point of everything this band stands for. Cat-calling the woman who named her band Mannequin Pussy to confront how femininity has been sexualized to the point where it’s censored on just about every platform–including Impact’s catalog–is certainly a choice. It reminded me of when bedroom pop artist Clario heard similar remarks from the crowd while performing her song “Blouse,” which is, ironically, about being objectified.
Gallery • 11 PhotosMannequin Pussy performs at the Majestic Theatre in Madison, WI on May 8th, 2024. Photo / Ana WagenMissy’s speech before “I Got Heaven” foreshadowed a longer moment she took during the latter half of the set. She addressed the elephant in the room: these songs evoke discomfort in those who have become comfortable with oppression. Missy then asked the audience to join in a group scream, with the intention to help to remove the pit we all have in our stomachs from the current state of the world; the anger we’ve been forced to suppress. The point of coming to a Mannequin Pussy show, she expressed, is to experience a release. Having felt the energy of the crowd during their set–and seeing how this tour is now completely sold out–I wholeheartedly agree.
Bassist Bear then took the mic, switching places with Missy for the song “Pigs Is Pigs.” “Romantic” served as a great closer. Everyone knows it, so everyone sang along, but it’s not one of those tracks that’s so popular it’s lifeless. It injected early-in-the-set energy into the crowd and gave me a feeling I haven’t experienced from a concert before. Typically, shows have left me feeling drained, like I can’t listen to the genre for a few days after. Instead, Mannequin Pussy left me wanting more.
Gallery • 10 PhotosMannequin Pussy performs at the Majestic Theatre in Madison, WI on May 8th, 2024. Photo / Ana WagenIf given the chance, I would love to go to another concert for both Soul Glo and Mannequin Pussy. While my experience watching them at Majestic was extraordinary, I would love to get a second chance in a different part of the venue, so I can get an even fuller connection to the music.
For those unfamiliar, the Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash is an annual music festival co-created by Lyrical Lemonade and SPKRBX. What began as a small gathering of creatives and music enthusiasts has evolved into the world’s largest independent hip-hop festival, attracting over 120,000 attendees this year. Year after year, the festival pushes the boundaries, and this year was no exception.
Gallery • 5 PhotosAngelo SavinoBlack Kray performs at Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash 2024.This year’s festival will undoubtedly go down in history, not only for the festival itself but for the hip-hop industry as a whole. The return of Chief Keef to Chicago after over twelve years solidified its historical significance, but that was just one piece of the puzzle. The festival also featured the first collective performance of record label Cactus Jack, led by Travis Scott, and the beginning of a new era for Playboi Carti, among other notable moments.
The lineup boasted both familiar names to the festival like Playboi Carti, Ski Mask the Slump God, and Lucki, along with new additions such as Kodak Black, Big Sean, and That Mexican OT. The DJ lineup was also stacked with some of the best in the game, including F1lthy, DJ Scheme, Zack Bia, and Kerwin Frost, who all delivered equally iconic sets.
Gallery • 3 PhotosAngelo SavinoBig Sean performs at Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash 2024.This year’s festival also incorporated several unique elements. The NFL, in collaboration with the festival, hosted an on-site flag football tournament with prizes like Bears season tickets and exclusive branded merchandise. In addition to the festival merchandise, streetwear vendors and brands, including local favorites Half Evil, were on-site selling their own pieces along with artist and/or festival collaborations. Another unique opportunity the festival presented was the 730 Printing Tour, which featured live screen printing where attendees could print a unique Chicago-exclusive design on garments, creating one-of-a-kind festival souvenirs.
This year’s Summer Smash Restaurant also included a completely revamped food lineup featuring dishes celebrating several artists at the festival, like “The Lazer Dim Burger,” “Kodak Black Buffalo Wings,” and “That Mexican OT Elote Corn Dog,” led by Chef Brian Fisher, a James Beard-nominated Michelin Star recipient. These plates could be accompanied by actual Lyrical Lemonade, with some cans being in collaboration with the performing artists.
Gallery • 4 PhotosAngelo SavinoRobb Bank performs at Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash 2024.Although the festival didn’t start with F1lthy’s set, it truly kicked off the vibe of the weekend. YouTube personalities BadlandsChugs and Airsoftfatty made an appearance during the set for a hilarious lightsaber battle and a water chugging competition. The energy they brought, paired with the beat of F1lthy-produced classics like “Stop Breathing,” let attendees know they were at the Summer Smash.
Friday ended with Cactus Jack making their debut performance as a collective, exceeding the incredibly high expectations set for the label. SoFaygo started the set with a bang, and the energy built up after each song until the very end. Sheck Wes followed with an unreleased track that struck a chord with the crowd. Don Toliver delivered an angelic performance, harmonizing over tracks from “Hardstone Psycho” while covering his discography. Travis Scott then joined Don Toliver for “CAN’T SAY,” bringing unparalleled rage. Travis continued with hits like “Antidote,” “Goosebumps,” and “SICKO MODE.” In line with the Utopia Tour, he performed “FIEN” back-to-back five times, with Sheck Wes returning on the final playthrough to rap his unreleased verse, a true gift to hear live. Travis wrapped up the night by stating that he’s nothing without the rest of Cactus Jack and brought them out to perform “Gang Gang,” a perfect way to end the night before Don closed with “TORE UP.”
Travis Scott performs at Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash 2024. (Angelo Savino)Saturday night was spotlighted by Playboi Carti’s remarkable performance, featuring the entirety of 00pium on stage with him in addition to DJ Swamp Izzo, who acted as his hype man while also hitting the queue on his adlibs. Carti kicked off his set with “H00DBYAIR,” as 00pium members started to fill the front of the stage and get the crowd amped up. Fans were eager to hear these new tracks live, as this was his first performance since their release, and it didn’t disappoint. His love for Chicago was unmatched, and it was shown throughout the entire performance as he brought his all to the show and made sure to make it known that he is the music.
Gallery • 2 PhotosAngelo SavinoPlayboi Carti performs at Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash 2024.Then the moment everyone was waiting for came around on Sunday. Although there were some other great moments throughout the day, Chief Keef’s return was the real highlight. The city had been in a drought, not seeing him perform there for what felt like ages due to restrictions. Some doubted the return when they saw it, but no doubt it was here. The moment it really hit me was when Lil Yachty concluded his set by asking the fans to make sure they show Chief Keef the respect and love he deserves, and that they did. As soon as he touched the stage, the crowd went crazier than I had seen it the entire weekend, despite it being the final hours. The city welcomed him home and it was a miracle to see Chief Keef Sosa performing live in Chicago. His set was immaculate, performing several hits with friends and family on stage, notably his daughter, G Herbo, and Tadoe among others. If there was one moment from this festival to remember, it was most definitely this one, and attendees will be boasting about being in attendance for years to come.
Gallery • 2 PhotosAngelo SavinoChief Keef performs at Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash 2024.There were far too many highlights to cover them all, but these moments stood out as some of the most memorable of the weekend. Overall, the production and curation of the festival were impeccable, from the stellar artist lineup to the perfectly paired DJs and amenities throughout the festival. It welcomed all attendees to experience history and create lifelong memories, leaving everyone eagerly anticipating next year.
These 24 songs were the heartbeat that propelled me from class to class, building to building, street to street, dorm to dorm and bus to bus. While it was difficult to narrow down to the 24 songs that truly captured my college experience, these songs — in sequential order — represent my journey from my first year to my fifth year at Michigan State.
My journey started in Akers Hall in a quad suite that felt empty. I spent my days and evenings after class biking/bussing/walking to Wilson Hall where my two friends from home lived. The first five songs on this playlist soundtracked these treks across campus. I remember listening to “bmbmbm” by black midi for the first time on a “top tracks of 2019 so far” playlist on one of these cross campus walks and being shocked and impressed by the noises I was hearing. I remember hanging in my friend’s dorm in Wilson Hall, watching them play Rocket League on their way-too-big-for-a-room TV while listening to “Les Fleurs” by Minnie Ripperton on their speakers. This year of school is when I realized that I wanted to listen to more and more music all the time and dive into artists’ full discographies with no hesitation.
When getting back from my freshman spring break trip to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, our campus soon sent us all home and we finished out the semester online. These lonely and isolated times led me to dive further into music and truly find a passion for listening to full discographies and finding as much new music as possible. This is where I found songs like “Real Life” by banzai florist and “Cherry Jerry Citrus” by Hey Cowboy!. I also started doing playlist exchanges with a bunch of my friends and brother, sharing all the cool stuff I was listening to and vice versa.
My second year at MSU took place in the University Village campus housing with three roommates and absolutely no one on campus. With all classes being online for Fall 2020 and Spring 2021, I was in group isolation with lots of free time being spent playing video games with my roommates or traveling to my friends’ apartments off campus. With my life being limited to three locations at most times, I loved driving around in my Jeep Wrangler and blasting music in my car around campus with no one to annoy. This is when I blasted tracks like “People” by Yellow Days and “Big Fig Wasp” by King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. I especially enjoyed the spring, when it was sunny enough to take the roof off my jeep and enjoy the unusual quiet of East Lansing.
At this point in my college career, I was on my second major and would soon realize that I might need to move to a third. By the end of my Junior year, I was a Food Science major and would finally feel like I found my place. I had also found my place in the fall when I joined Impact 89FM. I had always listened, but never actually thought I’d join a club or campus org like Impact.
My friends had always known me as “the music guy,” so at Sparticipation they pressured me to talk to the people at the Impact tent. As I walked up wearing my MGMT – Little Dark Age shirt, it turned out they were playing that exact song. They convinced me that I had to sign my name down, as it was too coincidental, and I happily obliged. After going to meetings and the open house I was absolutely hooked. The songs that soundtracked this year were “Twin Plagues” by Wednesday and “The Place Where He Inserted The Blade” by Black Country, New Road. These songs represent songs I probably wouldn’t have ever found if I didn’t join the Impact.
My last two years at Michigan State were spent in a house on Saginaw, in an apartment really far from campus and being at the radio station too much. Me and all my friends from Impact would spend time working together, as well as partying together, which led to us make sure that “Dance Yrself Clean” by LCD Soundsystem was played in its entirety at most functions. These two years blur together, as I spent them with the people I will truly miss seeing every day.
I will miss leading Street Team every Monday and seeing all the hilarious, unique, cool and —sometimes — nice people file in and take part in my last-minute-scraped-together meetings and brackets. I will miss the intricacies and hilarities of my roommates and friends across East Lansing that kept me endlessly entertained. I will miss staying up way too late on a weeknight when I have an 8 a.m. class the next day. I will, with all of my heart, miss this place and the people that come with it.
Will I miss Impact more than MSU? The answer is absolutely, and it makes me truly sad that I can’t spend every day rotting in the basement of Holden Hall, getting way less work done than I am supposed to and hanging out with the coolest people I know and may ever know. My life would be different than ever today if I had never committed to the Impact, and I would hate to see that life.
The drums of “The Adults Are Talking” started as I made my way down Spartan Avenue. I passed people out on their lawns, heard singing in the distance, smelled a bonfire in the air. I had been walking this same path all year. It was the same path I walked to go to class, the same path I walked to study at the library, the same path I walked to go downtown with friends on a Friday night. I had done this walk so many times before, but it felt different this time. This time, I knew it was one of the last times.
I had been thinking about that a lot recently. In the months leading up to my graduation, I was constantly bombarded with the knowledge that whatever moment I was experiencing might be the last: my last class, my last Impact 89FM meeting, my last time walking down Spartan Avenue. I held onto these moments with all my might and tried so hard to take everything in, tried so hard to notice every blue sky and feel every feeling of excitement and hear every note of every song. I tried so hard to remember every moment so I would never forget.
“Don’t Delete the Kisses” came on as I headed towards campus, and I was taken back to sophomore year apartment parties and driving with the windows down and staying up talking until 2 a.m. I was reminded of laughing with new friends and feeling terrified about big decisions and feeling free with independence. I gripped onto the memories tight. I wanted to stuff them in my pockets and wrap my fingers around them and never let them go.
I stopped at my favorite spot by the river: the hill between the library and Wells Hall. Whenever the weather was nice, I would come here to draw or read or think. Today, I sat by the river and tried to remember.
As I made my way back to Spartan Avenue, “Wait Till Something Better” started, and when I closed my eyes, I was back in the fall of my senior year, biking the streets of East Lansing and dancing in my bedroom. At least the songs helped me remember.
When I think back to before MSU, I think back to a different person entirely. I think back to my 17-year-old self, who was deciding where to go to college. I think about the anxiety that consumed me while making that decision. I was terrified of making the wrong choice, terrified that the wrong choice would alter the course of my life. But something about MSU had always felt right. I felt it when I visited MSU for the first time, and I felt it whenever I tried to imagine the next four years ahead of me. MSU had always felt familiar. MSU had always felt like home.
Now, at the very end, I am so glad that I listened to my gut. I truly believe that I became the person I was meant to be here. I found my people here. I found my place here. I found myself here. MSU still feels like home, and I think MSU will always feel a little bit like home.
As I turned the corner back on to Spartan Avenue and saw my house in the distance, the guitar of “Keep The Rain” echoed with every step I took. This song was the soundtrack in the background of my life for the past month. Something about it captured everything I had been feeling recently. It felt like change being right around the corner, like memories slipping through your fingers, like the weight of nostalgia settling in before anything was even gone.
As I approached my house, the feelings of nostalgia and happiness and sadness and excitement overtook me all at once. The epitome of every feeling I felt here and every person I was here and every moment I had here met me on the porch of the place I had called home for the past year. The playlist ended like an exhale, and I felt the buzz of a new song in my bones. The drums of the next chapter of my life.
Goodbye, MSU. I’ll never forget you.
Award-winning composer Tyler Durham, who performs as LIMINA, has arrived with an endlessly-intriguing new album, Coming Home. Durham, who has worked with legendary filmmaker Terrence Malick on films such as News of the World and A Hidden Life, describes Coming Home as “a story of someone estranged from their family but wanting to make amends.”
The album holds both neoclassical and atmospheric electronic elements, building a complex soundscape which drives reflection, peace and longing. The universal experience of staring out a window while in the passenger’s seat of a car or while sitting on a bus or train comes to mind.
In our interview with Durham, we discussed his favorite moments on Coming Home, the difference between scoring a film and crafting an independent album, the paradoxical freedom of guidelines and more.
To listen to Coming Home, an intrigue for fans of ambient and downtempo electronic especially, you can click on the link below:
Many have tried to capture the bittersweet emotions associated with graduating college in words, but few have managed to succeed. I’m not claiming that I will be able to capture it any more than those before me. I will say that college was one of the most complicated times of my life, both emotionally and academically. This experience has afforded me an emotional spectrum so broad, yet beautiful, that I don’t think I would be the person I am now without it. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
It would be easy for me to make a mixtape of my most listened to songs throughout the last four years, but I don’t think that would be accurate to my character. To me, the most powerful and to-be-treasured emotions are grief, longing and acceptance. We all wish we could go back. We all wish we could have one more moment with that person, or at that place or in that time. But time moves forward, with or without us, and to accept that is one of life’s greatest challenges.
There is a triumph to be held high within that acceptance. Moving on is a form of divinity almost as powerful as the grief of separation. There is a cause for celebration layered within that tearful goodbye, as something worth shedding tears is something that we loved, and will love, for eternity. The love I have for every soul I’ve met during this journey permeates this playlist, and I hope that it moves you as much as it moved me.
To everybody, I will miss you dearly.
“When it’s hot in Detroit, you know, it’s like super-hot.”
Carl Craig is nothing short of a Detroit legend. He is a techno pioneer, global DJ, electronic music producer, co-creator of the Movement festival and record label founder. Individually, he has released and remixed music under a multitude of aliases – his remix of “Like a Child” by Junior Boys even landed him a Grammy nomination in 2008 for “Best Remixed Recording.” Today, he is an educator doing his part to preserve Detroit’s music history for younger generations.
In our interview with Craig, we discussed his musical beginnings, Detroit’s techno roots and the implications of the genre for the greater Detroit community and world. Provided is both the audio of the interview and an intelligent verbatim transcription.
Carl Craig interviewing with Impact 89FM over Zoom. Photo by Jovana Nagj/WDBMListen to some Detroit techno in the playlist below:
Jovana: Before we get into it, do you want to introduce yourself briefly?
Carl: I’m just Carl Craig, product of the Detroit Public School system, proud dad, global DJ, electronic music producer. That’s probably good enough.
Jovana: In what ways have your life experiences influenced the music that you make and the music that you have made in the past?
Carl: I think one of the benefits that I have — me being me is that I still have memories of those days when I was a kid, those days when I wanted to do what I’m doing, those days that I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to be a radio DJ or a race car driver, you know, these are all of the aspirations that I think are necessary in order to keep yourself from becoming too grounded, especially too jaded because you know, money is a major thing for everybody and to get rich die trying or get rich by crying I don’t know. You know that seems to be the goal, but it’s kind of hammered into us, you know, by family, by naysayers, by anybody who wants you just to get a regular job working on a coffee shop or something. They think that’s better than being a DJ, or that’s better than being a guitar player, better than being something else. Even now, we’re at a point where there’s so much success that can come from riding skateboards. You know, from doing things that was always considered childish. So I like to hold on to my childish memories. I like to hold on to those times when I struggled, those times when I got dogged and those times when, you know, when I had great success before I found success. — Those failures are something that — should be humbling but you know you look at when they were coming up with COVID vaccine, there’s a lot of failure that comes within trying to have a breakthrough. So whether you believe that it works or not, that’s on you. But you know, in science, there’s always the failures that you have to mark down OK, that didn’t work. Let’s not try that and let’s try something a little bit different. Instead of going to ABC, let’s skip C and go ABD and see if that works and you know these are the things that I feel have helped me to be continuous and what I do to go two extra steps in order to try new things that I don’t try to lock myself into just being a synthesizer programmer. I don’t try to lock myself into just being a dad. I don’t try to lock myself into just being you know, a global DJ. You know, it’s like all of these things make up me, and the things that make up me also is to find out what the boundary is and then try to find a way to get past that boundary and then go to the next step.
Jovana: Was there anything specific that you can link that led you to take that jump and to take the leap?
Carl: Right, there’s a ton of things that opened me up to doing what I do. I mean, of course, putting my hands on the synthesizer for the first time when I was about I don’t know 15 or something — that had a big impact — it wasn’t necessarily that I could play it well it’s just that I knew that was the sound of my future. You know, it was the sound of then, it was the sound of, you know, that time. But it was definitely that sound I’ve been hearing in a lot of records that I wanted to be a part of. You know, I always bring up the first time that I DJd which was at a family reunion and you know I was real shy and a cousin’s husband had went up to the DJs and said, “Hey, you know” ‘cause I used to carry records everywhere I went, and her husband said, “Hey you know this, this young buck over here, he’s got some records can he play something?” They’re like, “yeah, OK, put it on” and the first record that I put on, “Egypt, Egypt” by Egyptian lover, it blew the room apart. Everybody went nuts in the room but we were in Georgia, and what those DJs didn’t understand was that that was the hottest record in Detroit and everybody was from Detroit. So, I asked to play another song and they say “Yeah cool, go ahead” and I tried to mix and I went from hero to 0 in two songs. But I remember that. And I gotta keep that because that keeps me grounded that kept me grounded more than you know anybody from when I used to play basketball in grade school saying you know, “You suck”, or, you know anybody who was a friend of a competing musician that said “This guy’s a better musician than you are. He makes better stuff than you”. You know those things they’re there and I remember them but really those times when you have a success and then when you right after have a failure is really what life is all about. I mean that’s really freaking what life is about. You know so I guess it’s like if you like driving fast on the freeway, you drive real fast on the freeway, you go around the corner, and its like “I made that corner without killing myself” but then you run into the back of somebody else’s car so you know you got that exhilaration and then you have a crash. It’s important to keep those in the forefront of your mind as not only inspiration, but you know, swift kicking ass. Kind of — keep pushing like yeah, you’re going to do something great, you’re going to fuck up but it doesn’t matter whether you fuck up because you’re gonna do something great again and you’re going to recover.
Jovana: One of the first times you DJd was at a reunion in Georgia, correct?
Carl: Mhm
Jovana: I mean now you’re kind of traveling all over the globe, being an ambassador for Detroit at your shows around the world. In what ways do you see techno as a way to diversify the narrative of Detroit to non-Detroiters? You just told me, you know, you were bringing this Detroit record and something that was popular for the Detroiters into Georgia and the DJs there couldn’t really understand it at the time so how do you kind of see what you do now at all your global shows kind of diversifying the narrative of what Detroit is to people who have never gone or who didn’t grow up in Detroit?
Carl: Well, it’s not only to people it’s to generations because you know the first time that I left United States was in 1989 so you know we’re talking 34, 35 years or something. So, you know there are people who I’ve played for back at that time that don’t go to clubs anymore. There’s generations of people that don’t go to clubs anymore. It’s you know like when I played in UBOAT in Bordeaux on Saturday and Porto on Friday you know, the crowd is 18 to 30 years old you know and the 18 year olds definitely weren’t alive and the 30 year olds maybe were alive —
Jovana: — You just did a talk at MSU that was about like a month or two ago and I know that you also went to NYU and my generation right now is in university we are kind of in that threshold the what you were saying about the 18 year olds, the 19 year olds, even the 30 year olds weren’t very alive at these shows. So, what do you think is the importance of educating college students and educating this generation not only on just like techno and Detroit’s centrality in that narrative but also for topics like Afrofuturism and why is that important to you?
Carl: It’s easy for people to default into what they see in front of them, what they like, what they see in front of them. When I was a kid, and this was — the important thing about how the people with jazz dealt with — influencing the kids and stuff you know. Because, like I wouldn’t have known who Ahmad Jamal was if it wasn’t for my dad’s records you know. And your dad might not have even been into anything like that. Your dad might have been into Black Sabbath or something. You know so, whatever is — in front of people’s faces right there, they think that’s best but they have to have some sort of opening some sort of gateway in order to get them to see that there’s something else that’s good too and you know when I go and I talk, and some people know me some people don’t. The ones that don’t know me obviously are going to be more open-minded to you know try to find out what I have to say, try to find out what I’m about and then they’re potentially going to do research. That’s what you would hope they do so with, I can’t remember what the name of the movie is with Keith Richardson and Chuck Berry where you know, Keith Richards was trying to do a comeback show for Chuck Berry and he’s trying to tell Chuck Berry how to play “Johnny Be Good”. And Chuck Berry’s looking at him like look “fool, this is my song”. You know, he doesn’t say anything but the whole time you know, he’s telling them like “No that’s not the way you play it, this is the way you play it” and Chuck Berry’s looking at him like “man this is” and no matter what the situation is, that there is a new group of people that found out who Chuck Berry was. That they wouldn’t probably wouldn’t have known anything about Chuck Berry unless they saw this movie with Keith Richards. So you know, it always has to be there, there always has to be a source of influencing people who don’t have the the family members or don’t have the infrastructure of people around them to be able to influence them and in many cases, like with techno with Detroit techno, how often do you see that on documentaries or TV shows or you know NPR radio shows or anything like that. So, you know, if they’re not going to do it then I guess I gotta do it.
Jovana: You were just saying, you don’t see that many movies about, that techno isn’t a very exposed genre and field of study. Do you think anytime in the near future that you see kind of this explosion of learning about techno happening? I know you’re doing it yourself, but do you see this turning into a bigger movement in the future?
Carl: Yeah well techno, techno’s great. Detroit techno is great. The situation with techno is that it’s not as defined as rap for instance. You know, rap and hip hop, no doubt, the Bronx. You know, Cool Herk, no doubt about it, right? Techno, you know, the Germans say they made it, we say we made it, you know, the Italians say they, they did something. You know, then there’s the first use of use of the word techno, who used it first in a song? Who did this, who did that? So, we’re busy — scrapping trying to make sure — there’s that understanding that this is you know Detroit techno is really where you know really where anybody who has any idea what techno is that we know these days comes from Detroit techno. Yes, we were influenced by Kraftwerk yes, we were influenced by Liaisons Dangereuses, we were influenced by English Electro Pop, we were influenced by, you know, all these things but when you have a museum in Frankfurt, that’s saying — German techno blah blah blah and then you have UNESCO saying Berlin techno blah blah blah and the problem that we have with Detroit techno is that we don’t have a cheerleader in government. You know we don’t in the U.S. government, we don’t have even though there’s a little display of Juan, Derrick, and Kevin at Smithsonian and D.C., you know there’s no — force that is said Detroit techno boom, you know. Like rap and hip hop, hip hop 50 boom. And on the American side of things, I think it comes from that, you know, again, there’s that confusion, but also, you know, we’re not making multi billions of dollars within the genre per year like rap, you know it’s not a commercial form of music, you know any Detroit techno that’s charted, charted a long time ago. So, I’m fighting the good fight, but it could be, you know, after I’m long gone, you know, after Derek and Kevin and Juan and Kenny and Stacy and, you know all of us are long gone, that there’ll be more clarification. It might be my grandkids, might be my great grandkids, who knows that they’re the forefront of clarifying what this what, what Detroit techno truly means in the grand scheme of things.
Jovana: And then I know you’re just talking about how Detroit techno is something that even just techno as like a genre, you can’t really box it in, it’s not very well defined, especially where in this whole fight about where it actually came from. But what are some things that you think sets Detroit techno apart from other versions of techno, for example, like the German techno or the Italian techno or anything like that.
Carl: Nobody’s experimented in the way that we have, you know, I mean with my experimentations — I’ve had influence that’s been into filter house. With “Throw” and 69, I’ve had influence in the drum and bass, with “Bug in the Bass Bin”, I’ve had influence in I can’t even think of what else it is right now. You know, I’ve done jazz I’ve done all these things so, you know, with those experimentations and with me, you know, accepting failures and pushing it to the next level that, you know, Detroit techno isn’t just locked into this thing that people can try to define it and say “OK. It’s that” because if you listen to Roni Size and Goldie and all that, you know, there’s some fingerprints of mine that’s like I got my dirty, greasy little fingers in there, along with Kevin Saunderson, because what we know is the Reese baseline that’s comes from Kevin Saunderson “Just Another Chance”. So, you know, we’ve been able to maybe make things a bit more confusing, but also our sound has been a part of an evolution of electronic music that’s gone outside of Detroit techno and gone outside of any. So, I don’t, I can’t say that there’s been a lot of other techno where they’ve experimented so much that it’s that its crossed genres.
Jovana: Staying on that topic of originality and experimentation, you actually founded your own record label Planet E. And I know one of the things that you strive for is to maintain creative independence from this mainstream industry. What are some ways that you kind of preserve and encourage originality within your label?
Carl: I started Planet E, as you said, for my own independence, but you know part of me being able to do that has been by me taking jobs outside of my label, so doing remixing which that’s what I got nominated for a Grammy for. And I looked at it like guerilla warfare, so I took money that I earned from remixing other people’s music and just put it into my own career. So, you know, by me taking those chances, I think that’s made it where anybody that decides they want to send music to Planet E they know it’s gotta be risky, you know, it can’t just be afforded a floor, same old, same old kind of thing. You know, it’s got to be something that’s going to push the boundaries.
Jovana: Having a lyric less genre, how do you maintain originality and continue to experiment with a genre that doesn’t really have words?
Carl: Yeah, I’m not a lyric writer. That’s one of the reasons why I stayed out of making lyrics. Most songs that are electronic based have very simplistic words like ass and titties or something. So I think that with making music with less lyrics makes it possible for the music to crossover race, genres. To crossover taste, crossover gender, cross over anything and music without lyrics is, you know, you’re dancing to the music, you’re not dancing to the lyrics. So, in some cases, I think lyric less music actually lasts longer and has a longer lifespan than musical lyrics too.
Jovana: What are some other ways in which you see techno bringing together communities because of the way the genre is able to transcend human identities?
Carl: You know, with Detroit because Detroiters we pick and choose so we don’t across the board just say like, “oh yeah, you know I like this kind of music” it’s like you like the piece that’s the hottest piece, and then the rest of it, you know you can kind of throw away. So, with Detroit we have this very specific way of liking the music and you know, when it’s hot in Detroit, — you know it’s like super-hot. You know, that’s what I love about Detroit because Detroit it doesn’t screw around. Detroit is real real about everything about the music about the identity of the music. You know we don’t have a situation where maybe like if you’re in Manhattan the record might be hot but in Brooklyn it’s not, you know or in Long Island or, you know, somewhere else in the area and it becomes not only regionalized, it becomes like almost neighborhood. We don’t — have that in Detroit. And that’s what I really love about it. I really love the fact that you know, Detroiters know what they like and they like what you did, then it’s going to be it’s going to be a big deal. —
Jovana: Finally, I just wanna give you a chance to be able to tell our audiences what they can expect from you. You got anything coming up I know you’re one of the headliners at Movement this year, correct?
Carl: Yeah I’m playing, unless they tell me I’m not! So, well, I got a lot that’s going on. Playing all around the world like usual. There’s a lot of great things that are happening some that I’ll just let you guys discover for yourselves
Jovana: Thank you!
Carl: But it’ll be a lot of fun.
Dear 18-year-old Gabby,
The flowers are in bloom right now. The bursts of whites and pinks are scattered around campus. Occasionally while walking to class, the sweet floral scent washes over me, and I slow down, close my eyes and breathe it in.
Slow down. Close your eyes. Breathe it in.
You made it to MSU. I’m so proud of you. You have no idea what’s in store or who you’ll be in four years, but remember to smell the flowers. Remember to play cards for too long the night before your 8:30 a.m. Remember to linger outside the doors to Wells Hall with your hood down before walking in to escape the rain. To take irrelevant english classes. To invite her to dinner. To ask for his number. To apply for the job.
Remember to thank all the people who made this possible. Remember to take your time.
Take your time because the flowers are already starting to wilt. Close your eyes because I know you’re scared. Breathe it in because you made it.
We made it.
Love you to the moon and stars and back again,
Gabby
April 27 in South Africa is known as Freedom Day and is celebrated as the official end of apartheid. This date was chosen because the first ever fully-integrated elections happened from April 26-29, 1994. Though this year marks the 30th anniversary of the holiday’s establishment, we shouldn’t continue to go forward without acknowledging the past that created this holiday.
As a way to consolidate their power, the apartheid South African government would ban songs that didn’t align with their ideas of racial superiority for a wide variety of reasons. The reasons would range from Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall,” having lyrics that were used as a rallying cry for a protest, to Bob Marley’s music being played by members of the Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army, or ZANLA, during their guerrilla fight for independence from the United Kingdom and Marley’s appearance during the independence festivities in Harare, to Miriam Makeba’s entire discography — as well as herself — being barred from the nation due to her unapologetic opposition to apartheid. Apartheid saw some of the most coordinated attacks on the freedom of artistry, which saw the cultural hub of Sophiatown razed and many of its most talented artists, such as Makeba and Dolly Rathebe, forced to flee South Africa.
Today, we live with the privilege of being able to listen to artists from across the world and hear stories from people from across the world. It is difficult to even fathom that not long ago, artists would be barred from the air for daring to fight against oppression. As we move forward, let us not forget about the artists whose music was banned from air in South Africa. May we use their songs as reminders to not let the past repeat itself.
I have rewritten this countless times — no matter how many times I rearrange a sentence or add something new, I do not think I will be able to express how deeply I love the friends I have made here at Michigan State, Impact 89FM and in East Lansing.
In my junior year of high school, I put a keychain on my backpack that I had been given at a random conference. It seemed insignificant at the time, but it remained on my backpack through the rest of high school, the summer before college and through moving to East Lansing in August of 2020. While trying to explore opportunities online and leaving my comfort zone, I recognized the logo that was on this keychain. I did not realize that the organization was a Michigan State one. In a wave of unknowns and moving out of my hometown, seeing this logo brought me an odd sense of familiarity despite knowing nothing about it. That logo was for Impact 89FM.
It’s strange now that I cannot imagine my life without this radio station. These last four years have shaped me in more ways than I will ever be able to describe because of the people I have had the fortune to be surrounded by. My coworkers, who grew to become my closest friends, have made my life and myself as a person so much better. We all stumbled across this radio station in some way or another with a common love for music — it was a thread that stitched us all together.
Because of that common love for music, it feels nearly impossible to capture these last four years in a playlist. If I did, the playlist would most likely be 20 hours long. All I know for sure is that my fondest memories always involve music and Impact 89FM: singing karaoke, going to concerts, seeing friends perform their own music live, crowding around a singular speaker to hear the best part of a song. These people and this radio station have become my home. My younger self would not recognize the person I am today but for all the best reasons. I owe so very much to the people of Impact and the soundtracks that are attached to every memory. I have never felt so much love and warmth in my entire life.
And it’s bittersweet to be graduating. I will be graduating alongside people who have become my family, and I will be returning for one more year for my master’s degree. Music, this radio station and these people have become engraved into my life, and it feels incredibly heavy to know I won’t have the privilege of seeing them every single day. I hope all of us are able to stumble across a place in the future that brings us the same sense of belonging that the rare Impact 89FM has.
It’s embarrassing the amount of times I wrote and completed this playlist only to abandon the effort each time and scrap it entirely. I had a version that was soft and reflective and told the story of my college experience over the course of 24 songs. It was a good playlist, but it wasn’t real. Then I had a version – in true Hourz O’ Power fashion – that was 24 songs of nothing but heavy. That was a good playlist too, but it felt too unified to represent how college really was for me. I’ve gone through so many other iterations of what this could’ve been that it took me until today – just two days before these playlists are due – to see clearly what it should be: A little bit of everything.
I spent my first year of college behind a computer screen at home in California amping myself up for how exciting “real” college was going to be. Then I landed here in fall of 2021 ready to face the world. The world faced me right back and I quickly realized I was the most alone I had ever been. I didn’t know anyone — I barely even knew myself. Then I found Impact 89FM — I found my people — and spent the next three years doing the typical college thing: making friends, making mistakes and listening to people I didn’t like tell me who I was supposed to be.
I don’t have a witty or poetic anecdote to sum up my college experience because if I can’t talk about all of it, I don’t want to talk about any of it. Every experience over the last three years feels like part of a whole, and that whole is joyous, furious, pleasant, agonizing and a whole host of other contradictory adjectives. I’ve found myself getting trapped in contractions lately. I can’t wait to enter the real world, but I don’t want college to end. I can’t wait to meet the people in my future who will change my life, but I don’t want to leave my friends here who have already done that. The list goes on.
If I was forced to say that college was only one thing, I would say it was real. I can see every single day of the last three years on my skin, in my eyes and in the way I talk. I am a changed man. What changed about me? A little bit of everything.
On March 19, I was afforded the opportunity to see Detroit’s own Danny Brown with openers Bruiser Wolf and Hook at Grewal Hall in downtown Lansing. This evening was a real experience, so I’ll try and recount it chronologically.
When I showed up at Grewal, a small, intimate venue with a general admission floor not much bigger than a basketball court, Bruiser Wolf’s set was nigh upon the lucky group who had shown up that evening.
Bruiser Wolf, a recent inductee to the Danny Brown-led Detroit rap collective Bruiser Brigade, spent the next 45 odd minutes spitting some uniquely Detroit flows and hyping the crowd up with calls of “Bruiser!” to which the crowd responded with a resounding “Wolf!”
Bruiser Wolf’s set consisted mainly of tracks from his latest album, My Stories Got Stories, released in January. His style was evocative of classic hip-hop and had the crowd moving more than I’ve seen with most openers, especially for the size of the venue.
Los Angeles-based rapper Hook took over once Bruiser Wolf’s set had finished, and she brought some of her new release’s best tracks to Lansing. Her style was equally engaging, bringing some unorthodox trap beats with what sounded almost like an emo rap style with a bombastic female twist.
Afterward, the stage was reset and the excitement for Brown’s set was all over the room. After some time, the stage went dark and the frenetic production of “Tantor” from Brown’s new release Quaranta blared across the venue. After making his way through “Tantor,” Brown led the crowd of devoted fans through all of his best tracks from every one of his cult classic albums. In a venue of that size, I’ve never felt so sure I was going to be crushed in a mosh.
Brown’s biggest strength has always been his underground appeal, and the energy from some of his most devoted fans during his performance at Grewal Hall dwarfed that of far bigger concerts I’ve been to. Listening to Brown is one thing, but seeing him live, for real fans, is the comprehensive experience.
For me, seeing him almost a year prior at MSU’s 2023 spring concert before giving his work a real listen made this a full circle experience. My bottom line? Catching Danny Brown live is not something one should miss.
As Kim Deal approaches her 40th year writing and performing music, her band, The Breeders, opened for Olivia Rodrigo in Madison Square Garden and will kick off a European leg to their tour in the summer. While Deal’s career seems to have hit a secure stride as of late, she has not always been immune to struggle over the past four decades.
From multiple stints with the legendary Pixies to forming two bands of her own, Deal has always been at the forefront of innovation in the music industry, whether such efforts have been noticed or not. To understand how she is now playing alongside a pop megastar in one of the most sought-after venues in the world and set to headline in cities like London and Madrid, it is necessary to draw focus toward her career from the beginning.
Although Deal’s musical ambitions began at her childhood home in Dayton, Ohio with her twin sister Kelley, their early recordings are not easily accessible and are hard to come by. Deal’s talents can first be tangibly traced back to the Pixies’ inception and her role as a bass player.
While the Pixies were a hit with many rock fans from their beginnings in 1986, they had a hard time gaining full mainstream attention during the ‘80s and ‘90s. Despite having more success now than they originally did during their early years, they are often noted as an influence for bands such as Nirvana, The Smashing Pumpkins and Weezer.
While with the Pixies, Deal took a backseat to lead singer and frontman Black Francis. When she was given the opportunity to sing lead and display her vocal skills in a more central fashion, Deal delivered over and over, producing some of the most exciting tracks in the Pixies’ discography.
On the acclaimed first full-length Pixies album, Surfer Rosa, Deal was given the chance to write and sing the song “Gigantic.” The song begins with a deep-toned bassline from Deal accompanied by backing vocals from Francis. The vocals he provides are akin to those of Deal’s throughout the rest of the record; their roles are reversed.
Francis’s lead vocals are typically strong on this record, yet with “Gigantic,” Deal gives a much smoother vocal performance than he usually gives, appealing to a new and broader audience. In general, and on this track specifically, she is able to effortlessly match her vocal tone and pitch to those of the instrumental. Throughout most of the track she is almost speaking rather than singing, but this does not take away from the pleasantness of her sound. In fact, this is exactly what many fans enjoy so much about Deal.
Despite many attributing Deal’s exit from the band in the ‘90s to her frustration with Francis’s leadership and his controlling nature around songwriting, Deal has made it clear that she views things differently. Instead, she has explained that she recognized that people enjoyed her vocal style and wanted to find ways to give this crowd more opportunities to enjoy her work. Regardless of her exit from the band, she certainly left a creative mark on the industry.
In 1993, as Deal made her decision to leave the band, the Pixies went on an extended, decade-long hiatus. As previously mentioned, Deal saw her exit from the Pixies as an opportunity to share her music as a lead singer with her blossoming audience. Consequently, she turned her focus to The Breeders, a band that she had formed in 1989. Their debut album, Pod, was released the following year, and while Deal was not able to place all of her attention on this project because of her involvement in other Pixies projects, her artistic vision is still clear on this record.
A few of the tracks on Pod are similar to “Gigantic,” with the song “Glorious” possibly being the most reminiscent of it. In the song, Deal delivers a droning vocal performance. Now, this isn’t to say that the performance is boring or lacking in emotion in any way. Rather, her voice plays beautifully off the bassline. This attention to detail is a testament to Deal’s experience as a musician, as well as her intrinsic songwriting knowledge.
Immediately after Deal began to dedicate all of her time to being the lead songwriter and singer of a band, she released Last Splash with The Breeders — a highlight and staple of ‘90s music. On this album, Deal was able to show her versatility across genres ranging from grunge to country.
Last Splash features the hit single “Cannonball,” which propelled the band into a slightly brighter spotlight just weeks before the release of the full album. After a brief vocal introduction, “Cannonball” begins with and is driven by a bassline that sets a grungy tone for the whole song. While most of Pod falls under what some would consider grunge, The Breeders hadn’t seen much commercial success with this sound. However, they found themselves at No. 44 on the US Billboard Hot 100 with “Cannonball.”
Aside from a very short reprise, Last Splash comes to a conclusion with the track “Drivin’ on 9,” a cover of a little-known song from the band Ed’s Redeeming Qualities. This track gives listeners a completely new insight into Deal’s artistic versatility. As previously mentioned, the record up to this point had spanned across various genres, but the overall grunge theme was present in the tempos of each track.
With “Drivin’ on 9,” the band gracefully crosses over into the country genre, presenting the audience with new tones and instruments. Even on a second or third listen of the album, the tonal change in this track will come as a bit of a shock. Deal’s voice sounds lighter when paired with a folksy-sounding fiddle, and the rest of the band caters to this sound beautifully.
This is one of the rare songs that will almost certainly feel nostalgic upon a first listen. What makes it feel so special is that for The Breeders, it is truly one of a kind; “Drivin’ on 9” is their only true country song to date. What’s truly impressive is that on their one and only attempt at a country track they managed to produce what may be the most beautiful song in their entire discography.
In 1995, after various members of The Breeders came and went due to a multitude of reasons like rehab, drug and alcohol abuse and exhaustion, Deal still wanted to make music. Deal, along with Breeders drummer Jim Macpherson, moved to Ireland to record an album for a new band, The Amps. In Ireland, both of the musicians struggled to create a healthy work environment, as they too encountered problems with drugs and alcohol.
The album Pacer was completed and released but did not see any commercial success. Despite the reception, the tracks on this record aren’t lacking in quality or intrigue. Even under unfortunate circumstances, Deal was able to produce tracks that could have fit comfortably on a Breeders record in terms of quality, showcasing her unwavering commitment to songwriting.
“First Revival,” a track evocative of Pod, has a murmuring dreamlike quality to it that Deal hadn’t utilized in her career up until this point. It’s not hard to see that even when faced with an immense amount of adversity, she has always been eager to experiment with new sounds. She had carved out an identity for herself but was simultaneously always open to finding out more about who she was as a musician.
Many artists find a specific sound and use it until people become too familiar with it, but Deal has constantly challenged herself to break into new frontiers. She has done this on a large scale with The Breeders and on a smaller scale with The Amps, showing listeners that her creative process is not influenced by the size of her audience.
As for the state of The Breeders after Deal’s stint leading The Amps, the band continued to have a hard time finding their footing. Throughout the second half of the ‘90s leading into the 2000s, The Breeders didn’t have a consistent group of members that could commit to recording like they did during their early years. Longing for a sense of stability, Deal took the Pixies up on an offer to begin touring with them again in 2004.
At this point, the Pixies had amassed a large cult following that gave them the opportunity to play in venues they would have never been able to play in before. This series of tours lasted nine years and is a large reason why they still hold a strong relevance in the current music scene. Although she doesn’t speak on her second exit from the Pixies much, Deal has mentioned that she was not interested in recording new music for the band. While this is not confirmed, it could be reasonably inferred that she was worried about taking the backseat in terms of songwriting.
Her second departure came in 2013, during the 20th anniversary of Last Splash. After Deal left the Pixies again, she and her sister wanted to get the original Last Splash members back for an expansive Breeders tour. The tour was a large success, as they played sixty shows all within the year of 2013, starting in May and ending on New Year’s Eve.
It has become quite apparent that Deal’s time with the Pixies is officially over. She has finally reached a point of security with The Breeders, and it would come as a surprise to many fans if she ever went back for a third stint. Although her involvement in the Pixies has come to an end, her influence and memory within the band is everlasting.
In 2016, the Pixies, having returned to releasing new music, came out with Head Carrier. On this project, Francis wrote a tribute song to Deal, concurrently apologizing for past mistakes and honoring her legacy. This track, “All I Think About Now,” is actually sung by Deal’s replacement, Paz Lenchantin, who has a similar voice to Deal in some ways. Before the lyrics even begin, the opening of the song already pays homage to Deal’s footprint on the success of the band by producing a sound eerily reminiscent of “Where Is My Mind?” This is one of the most recognizable songs of all time, and this is largely due to Deal’s masterfully catchy backing vocals. The lyrics on “All I Think About Now” are of direct relation to the conflicts between Deal and Francis:
“If I could go to the beginning /
I would be another way /
Make it better for today.”
Over time, Francis has realized what the Pixies could have been if he had sought to further involve Deal in the songwriting process. His behavior in the ‘80s and ‘90s likely set a precedent for what Pixies songwriting was like, and if he had behaved in a more inclusive manner, she may have been more inclined to stick around and make more music after her second run with the band. The song concludes with the following lines:
“I remember we were happy /
That’s all I think about now /
I you have any doubt /
I want to thank you anyhow.”
This is a simple and respectful gesture to honor a rock legend. Deal’s dedication to performing is admirable to the fullest extent of the word, and her career seems far from coming to an end. Rather, she treats every opportunity as a new beginning instead of a step toward retirement, reflecting her unique ability to push through misfortune. With this in mind, it is stirring to think of where she will take her fans next.
The melancholy, bittersweet and fleeting feeling of reflecting on the soundtrack of my time at Michigan State overwhelms me in the best way possible. As much as I am sad to move on and leave the Impact, the sadness I feel when reflecting on my time and knowing it is almost time to go nearly makes me joyful, knowing that memories I have created at MSU leave me feeling the overwhelming emotions that only follow when something really penetrates your soul.
The greatest gift in life to me is music. The greatest gift that can never be taken away is one that will travel with me all the years to come. Down the road, when my red hair turns gray, I will hear one of these songs and reminisce about all the beautiful memories and beautiful people I have crossed along the way on this long, strange trip of life.
Thank you to all who have been with me, growing with me and teaching me the beauty of life in college. Most importantly, thank you, Impact, for giving me a home and for showing me that college is much more than chemistry and biology.
The sky was dirty gold one day in the woods behind my East Lansing apartment. This was the middle of summer, and light rain had just swept its hand over the eyes of me and two friends.
As we dirtied our shoes, as we stumbled around puddles and through waves of mosquitoes, we noticed a rainbow draped across the gold. Meshing with lightly dripping leaves, with quiet and motionless branches, it seemed to be the most beautiful thing I had seen in my lifetime.
I think about this rainbow all the time. I think about how I saw it with some of my very best friends, how it broke through the gold — a gold close enough to the sepia of 19th and 20th century photos to say something profound about the past and how we remember it.
I’ve found that I best remember my college experience through music. Yes, I love looking through photos and videos of my time at Michigan State, but I’m at my most emotional and most thankful while listening to the songs my friends and I have cherished and made memories through.
These songs capture so much more than singular moments in time. They unlock sprawling landscapes in which specific cars live, specific apartments, specific couches. I relive countless 3 a.m. nights and do-nothing warm days through them. These songs ring quietly and loudly in the background, and I come to appreciate both my growth and my friends’ growth.
There is laughter in these songs. There are tears. There are signature dance moves and long car rides and beautiful silences shared while looking out at still waters.
And there is the worst silence: the morning after a day in February, where all we could do was hug and share coffee and wish each other well as we took a few hours to ourselves.
Through it all, there were these songs. Now, I’m here: the end. I’m a different person than I was four years ago — I better fucking be — and I’m happy.
Thank you to Impact 89FM. And thank you to its employees — my best friends — for allowing me to remember a rainbow in the middle of summer, to hear the music in it and smile.
TWRP performed the first show of their Digital Nightmare tour on April 1 at El Club in Detroit. Short for Tupperware Remix Party, this ‘80s band from the future is known for high-energy and righteous music. They transcend time and space, but they are based in Toronto. Jazz fusion and funk music with a healthy dose of synth makes up their discography. Personally, I have been in love with them since the first time I listened to “The Hit” back in 2015.
I had been living in anticipation of this show for months. When my friends and I pulled up, we saw a line around the block starting in front of the tour bus at the club. It was a rather intimate venue, and this was intensified by the show having sold out. We noticed that a few fellow fans were wearing a strange orange shirt. At least, it was strange to me since I had never seen TWRP live before. The shirts featured a face apparently called GROB. This is a very important detail. Trust me.
In the club, we waited for the opening acts: nelward and Trey Magnifique. I wasn’t really prepared for what they’d deliver. First, nelward came out by himself. I loved his energy. I think his performance perfectly hyped up the crowd, especially with two runs of “I Hope My Pants Don’t Fall Down” broken up by a longer track. Altogether, he managed to be captivating for his whole performance. I could say the same about Trey Magnifique, but I’d rather not. He did captivate me, but in a funnier way. This performer has a habit of antagonizing the crowd. I had fun during his set though. It was also a nice change of pace before the main event.
TWRP debuted four songs from their new album, Digital Nightmare, where the world we’ve made online has crept into reality. In following with the album’s theme, Doctor Sung, the band’s frontman, continuously pleaded to the audience for more noise, more engagement and more support. According to him, the corporate overlords that hired him were watching. The new management enforced microtransactions on the performance. The band would even be interrupted between songs. A “revolutionary” contactless payment facilitated by the Good Robot Boy — GROB — would allow them to continue.
Towards the end of the show, the Doctor faced a dreaded performance review. Unfortunately, he’d run out of Grobcoin! He shouted out, “Anyone in the audience with a Grobcard, please hold it up!” To my surprise, a bunch of hands went up holding the very same card the Doctor was using for payment. Someone from the front row became my hero that night, as it was their hard-earned Grobcoin that let the show go on. This narrative was fun to be a part of. Rest assured, I’m not forgetting my Grobcard next time.
The setlist was a mix of old and new, including a medley that made my heart soar. I lost count of how many times the Doctor flipped his keytar. I don’t wanna spoil the ending, but I will never forget when bassist Commander Meouch said, “The minutes have not been kind to you.” Some of the older tunes turned around for me. For example, “Bright Blue Sky” from New & Improved used to be a flop, but after hearing it live, I have a new love for it. Like my other favorites from them, this song is now an awesome motivator.
When I’m alone, it can be difficult for me to know just how much the people in my life are there to back me up. Anytime I need that love, I know I can go to them or call them up. However, TWRP’s music gives me that opportunity without having to stop my workflow. I feel that love in their music. They sing:
“Brother don’t you, don’t give up now /
Chin up now I am here to help you out /
I just want you to know /
I got your back here, bro.”
Whether it’s the weight of the world or the longing for love, TWRP continues to be a source of inspiration. Failure can be draining, but their songs revitalize me. I know there is kindness within everyone, and TWRP reminds me that everyone is worthy of love and respect. As a final note, I danced my ass off in that cramped club, and I don’t like dancing.
The last words of composer Johannes Brahms came after he took a sip of wine. Those words, which were something like “Ah, that tastes good,” came on April 3, 1897.
Brahms is one of the most well-known and well-respected composers of the 19th century, and it is good to remember that the story of music does not start somewhere in the 1900s, but long, long before Brahms even took that last sip of wine. So, when we discuss music history, we must understand the flaws in our routine examination of it.
We don’t have original recordings from most of human history — as the first recordings came about in the mid-1800s — and it is good to have a simple reminder that music before the age of records was as rich and interesting as it is now.
Brahms blended practices of the Romantic and Classical eras, and his compositions continue to be seen as some of the most skilled work to come from either. He balanced the complex and the simple with great care, and though his music was more traditional than the likes of some contemporaries, he remains one of the most well-regarded composers of all time. Rest in peace to one of the greatest.
– Mike Merucci
On April 5, 1994, about 30 years ago, Kurt Cobain died by suicide in his Seattle, Washington home. Cobain, the lead singer and guitarist of Nirvana, had entered into a life of fame and stardom — a life he was conflicted about living.
Nirvana saw their first mainstream success with their second album, Nevermind, released in 1991. From there, the band was pushed into the spotlight, being credited with bringing grunge and the “Seattle sound” to the mainstream. Their success led to the creation of a massive fanbase and a collective view of Cobain as a symbol of “counterculture,” with Pitchfork referring to Cobain as the “world’s most famous outcast.” Nirvana’s style, music and attitude heavily contributed to the cultural zeitgeist of the decade, and with the release of In Utero two years after Nevermind, Nirvana was on track to stay in that influential position.
Would you want to be famous? This seems like an easy question with a simple answer, but each answer has its caveats. You can debate the pros and cons and land on an answer, but you might switch back and forth between yes and no as you make new discoveries. This constant debate was something Cobain struggled with heavily. According to multiple interviews with people close to Cobain, he was constantly changing his opinions about the popularity of Nirvana and himself. Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic spoke about Cobain’s changing opinions in a February 2023 interview, stating that Cobain “was counterculture” but at the same time “wanted to be really famous.” He went on to say that Cobain was “like a windmill” in the sense that he would state his opinion then change it just a few moments after.
Given how quickly Nirvana saw fame, it makes sense that Cobain felt scared and left in the dark when it came to dealing with this new lifestyle. At times, the fame felt like too much to handle. Throughout his life, Cobain struggled with depression but turned to drugs, mainly heroin, and alcohol to deal with it. This method of coping with his depression, along with the pressures of fame, only grew worse in the months leading up to his death.
Most people note his stay in Italy, which occurred about a month before his suicide, as the starting point of his descent. In Italy, while on tour, Cobain created a deathly concoction of champagne and Rohypnol, which led to an overdose. Cobain survived this attempt but was sent home to Seattle with his wife, Courtney Love, and his daughter, Frances Bean, forcing Nirvana to cancel their Europe tour. Soon after, the police were called to Cobain’s Seattle home, where police confiscated all of his guns after he threatened to take his life again.
Because of concerns about Cobain’s heroin use and mental state, Love and his friends convinced him to check into a rehabilitation center in Marina Del Ray, California. Cobain only spent two days at the center before escaping. He booked a flight from Los Angeles to Seattle and returned on April 2. In this timespan, Cobain had convinced a friend to buy him a shotgun for “protection matters.”
April 5, 1994, was the day Cobain decided to take his own life. He returned to his Seattle home, wrote his suicide note, took a fatal amount of heroin and Valium and shot himself with his shotgun. His body was discovered three days later when an electrician arrived to install a security system. In his note, Cobain wrote about his dying passion for what he once loved, how he felt about his life regarding fame and who he had become. Near the end of his letter, he wrote “I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out than to fade away.”
Cobain’s death was a tragedy, leaving the world and his fans sad, angry and upset. These emotions led to the creation of conspiracy theories involving his death. The most famous of these theories is that he was murdered by his wife. Some of the main “evidence” backing this theory includes the change in handwriting at the end of his suicide note and the fact that the private investigator hired by Love believes that his death was a murder. Though this theory is a popular one, there is no concrete evidence proving it is true.
– Brooke Racine
On April 7, 2008, the legend of Bob Dylan only grew. And it did so after Dylan received an honorary Pulitzer prize for his “profound impact on popular music and American culture.” This was the first time Pulitzer judges recognized an artist from the rebellious sphere of rock ‘n’ roll, a genre formerly discarded by those judges for reasons no common American could have given a damn about.
Dylan’s music, which needs little introduction, surged through the cultural veins of the late-20th century, and its poetic air continues to oxygenate the blood of the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s. If you watch a documentary focusing on those years in the U.S.A., you are bound to hear a Dylan track or three. Dylan is one of few Americans I’d consider a cultural titan, and it was about time the Pulitzer committee recognized him for that.
– Mike Merucci
It’s so rare that a film perfectly captures the true likeness of “the teenage girl” in a character. However, the film Lady Bird seems to show her in a way I have never seen before. Lady Bird centers on Lady Bird McPherson, a 17-year-old caught in the strange in-between of girlhood and womanhood. She teeters...
On Aug. 26, one stage hosted an international-award-winning opera singer, the No. 1 ranked beatboxer in Michigan and countless members of greater Detroit’s rock and metal scene. This collection of talent sought to destroy the boundaries of genre, to make a new statement on the beauty of local music, to testify to the joys and benefits of artistic collaboration. This was The Amalgamation Project.
Now, it makes sense to associate artistic collaboration with local music — from a view of proximity, if nothing else. But not all music scenes host collaboration between members, and even fewer tend to host positive collaborations. Disputes run rampant in the music industry — from the local level all the way to the top — and Bryan Knickerbocker, organizer of The Amalgamation Project, sought to show what happens when we do something deceivingly simple: Work together.
“Local scenes are so riddled with unnecessary competition,” said Knickerbocker. “I hope this would alleviate some of that.”
Knickerbocker initially formed the idea for The Amalgamation Project when two of the project’s performers, Stephanos Andreotti and Tong Fx, approached Bryan with the idea of a song combining opera and beatboxing.
“I thought, ‘Man, that would be cool, but with a lot of people.’ So I started to form it and it took a little over a year,” said Knickerbocker. “The hope is that everybody gets at least a couple new fans out of this. It’s a community thing.”
The sense of community in this project was visible immediately, starting with the venue. Within New Baltimore, Michigan’s Diesel Concert Lounge is a music haven coexisting with a pinball arcade and bowling alley. Everyone seemed to be good friends — even if they had just met. With the Detroit Tigers game playing just above the bar, sunshine peeking in from the parking lot and inside jokes soaring from stage to floor, even the set-up and soundcheck existed as a lively example of what it means to be a community.
With guitars, keytars and drums roaring in the background during soundcheck, I asked several of the night’s performers the same two questions: “When you look at something like The Amalgamation Project, what do you think it does to promote community, both for artists and fans?” and “Do you think collaborations like these are the first step in uniting music scenes?”
Crafted Conviction opening for The Amalgamation Project. (Mike)In every answer, the same theme emerged: A show like this proves that musicians can rise to the top together, all while learning from and being inspired by each other.
“It’s gonna show that we can all push each other farther,” said Katelyn Mueller of Crafted Conviction. “What’s the point of holding each other back when we could all be rising at the same level and helping each other?”
Phil Steuer of Elsie Binx felt similarly, elaborating on how collaborations like The Amalgamation Project can lead to lasting relationships. “It could be a first step to many things,” he said. “It could be a first to a new side project, a first to a new partnership of any sort — hell, it could even be the start of new friendships.”
For a concrete memory of the night, and for existing and future friendships, everyone involved in the project signed drum heads from Knickerbocker’s massive drum set. As signatures populated the set, sunlight disappeared from the room and stage lights adopted hazy greens, reds and blues. Doors opened, drinks were poured and the Tigers gave up five runs in two innings.
And all the while, I continued speaking with The Amalgamation Project’s performers, who all expressed a deep care for their work and their community, both verbally and non-verbally. Sometimes you can simply tell how much something means to a person by the way they move their arms in speech, by the way their eyes try to fall on the most complete answer.
Even before the first opener hit the stage, I knew this: Here was a group that truly loves music.
Kicking off the night in front of a warm crowd were Never Decaf and Crafted Conviction. Never Decaf’s set was coated in nostalgia, with their last track being a collage cover of some of the most popular songs of the last 40 years, including Lady Gaga’s “Paparazzi,” Alphaville’s “Forever Young” and The Cure’s “Pictures of You.” Crafted Conviction followed with roaring guitars and passionate vocals, prepping the stage for the slew of rock and metal crossovers to come.
Serving as master of ceremonies for the night was Rikki Roxx, who expressed hopes that this show would broaden the audience’s horizons. “Talent is talent,” as he put it.
Wil Pruitt performing at The Amalgamation Project. (Mike Merucci)Talent is talent, indeed. Combining so many different styles would require it, but selflessness would also be required. When I spoke with Wil Pruitt of Ritual Suns, which served as the house band for the night along with Matthew Shannon, he expressed that “It’s very valuable, from a musician’s standpoint, to have a sense of comradery between us. In all settings. The music industry, in general, is plagued with this idea of competition and dogging on people. So this has been a really good way of bringing people together and snuffing out that mindset to a point where people can see past the competition aspect and respect music for music’s sake.”
This could perfectly summate The Amalgamation Project: “Music for music’s sake.” For the love of art itself, rather than the love of potential fame and fortune.
Pruitt played on nearly every song of The Amalgamation Project’s 10-song set, nine of which featured duos playing with the house band. These duos each conceptualized a song together, wrote and practiced it, then finally performed it on this night.
From the very first performance, it was easy to understand why this was called The Amalgamation Project. There were six people on stage, and Knickerbocker’s drum set looked like a mythological hydra in the background, dwarfing the Charmander plushie which dangled from it.
Some of the performers’ children sat next to the on-stage monitors throughout the whole show and other audience members clustered in the front row to help the show earn its name. Onto the stage came all kinds of instruments, all kinds of amps, all kinds of vocal styles. Where one duo would foster explosive riffs, another would opt for gentle picks and low-key croons. At the show’s midpoint, Tong Fx and Knickerbocker engaged in a beatbox versus drum set competition before Tong Fx beatboxed in a duo with an acoustic guitar.
Following this unexpected battle was “Specter of You,” a song whose guitars almost seemed to be singing to each other, reaching out longingly to a quickly fading mist. And in stark contrast to this longing was an eruptive track from Steuer and Jaimi Magyari, which had half the crowd holding their own air guitars.
These led into the final duo performance — an exceedingly interesting mixture of metal and opera, with the vocalist being Andreotti, who I was fortunate to have spoken with before the show. As I saw him on stage, his words on art came ringing back into my head:
“The fact that this has come together is a cause for hope, and is setting an example of what the music community has the potential to be,” he said. “We can make new genres, new concepts, new stories to be told.”
“If you think you know art, think again. There’s so many more things to be made and so much more that can happen by people coming together and exposing their hearts to each other. There’s so much to happen in improvisation.”
Stephanos Andreotti performing on-stage for The Amalgamation Project. (Mike )Andreotti left his heart on the stage that night, singing around themes of occultism with hands held high as guitars slowly intensified behind him before shattering the night with riffs that held the weight of the world in their strings.
After this ninth duo, Roxx walked up on stage and wasn’t quite sure what to say. But he understood that “talent is talent;” he understood the beautiful absurdity of having an accomplished Italian opera singer collaborating with Detroit metalheads next to a bowling alley and pinball arcade in New Baltimore.
I look back on this night and find a certain regional pride in it, maybe even a touch of some weird patriotism. As I interviewed people beside a dumpster with cigarettes being sparked up all about, as I sat at the bar and passively glanced at the Detroit Tigers hosting Marvel superheroes for the National Anthem, as I walked past 7-10 splits and bursts of flashing pinball lights, I couldn’t help but find a certain romance in it all.
This is where I’m from, I suppose. This is what we do. We drink pitchers of beer while front row at concerts featuring beatbox and opera; we share pizzas while “Master of Puppets” blasts during soundcheck; we throw fart jokes at each other while watching the sun sink below the horizon of a pothole-burdened parking lot.
As I observed the show’s finale — a collaboration between six of the night’s performers — a simple thought landed in my mind: “Yeah, I’m in America right now.” A place so nuanced and complicated that no one art piece could ever tackle it in full. But that’s why we need so much collaboration, so much diversity in art. Maybe we can figure this whole thing out together, maybe not. Probably not.
We live in a place that we’ll never understand, both for its beauties and its horrors. We live in America. We live where everything will always sit a little misunderstood. Politics, cultures, relationships, emotions, selves: We’re never going to “get it.” It’s never going to make sense.
But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t seek to understand, because trying to understand this place means trying to understand the people in it. Trying to understand this place means trying to understand yourself.
In collaboration, things make sense. In the emotion of live music, things make sense. In The Amalgamation Project, things make sense.
It’s been a long time coming, but Detroit was ready for it when Taylor Swift brought her massive Eras Tour to the city for a two-night run in June. Few people could command a stadium so forcefully that 70,000 fans adoringly cheer when they ask for a tissue, but Swift has been experiencing a level...
I had been waiting for this moment for more than four years. Enter my favorite band of all time, Death Grips. Enter a raw patchwork of excited screams from the crowd. Enter crimson stage lights drowning every head in the venue. Welcome to red-alert intensity. Welcome to “System Blower,” with its unmistakable, urgent opening. Goodbye...
The Lyrical Lemonade Summer Smash is an annual festival hosted by Lyrical Lemonade founder and Chicago legend Cole Bennett. Bennett has worked with SPKRBX over the past five years to put on the biggest independent hip-hop festival, and this year’s edition was nothing short of spectacular. The efforts put into the festival were truly curated...
It has been three years since the release of Dominic Fike’s last album, What Could Possibly Go Wrong. On July 7, Fike released his newest album, Sunburn. This 15-song album is full of passion and so many different styles from singing to rapping, but Fike’s classic alternative sound from What Could Possibly Go Wrong and...
I grew up listening to popular Taylor Swift songs on the radio, so I was always familiar with her work. I never dug deeper until I listened to Folklore last spring, which is when I really became a true fan and dove into her discography. This made me realize I needed to see her live...
Editor’s note: The beginning of this interview contains brief moments of audio distortion that render certain words inaudible. Beyond the one-minute-30-second mark, that distortion is not present. Ahead of the release of his solo debut, Inheritance, composer and sound artist Omar Ahmad sat down with the Impact to discuss what the word “inheritance” means to him,...
Los Angeles-based multi-instrumentalist and producer Adrian Younge is set to release the 18th edition of he and Ali Shaheed Muhammad’s Jazz Is Dead, this time featuring legendary drummer Tony Allen. The late Allen, who Brian Eno described as “perhaps the greatest drummer who ever lived,” died in 2020, but even in death, his music continues...
“Movement” is an homage to the very essence of life: motion. Each track in this mixtape is imbued with a zestful rhythm and lively melody that gently nudges listeners to move. It is an irresistible invitation to dance and to sway with the rhythm. It is a celebration of the rhythm inherent in our existence, a pulse that mirrors the beat of our hearts, the breath in our lungs, the thoughts racing through our minds.
This mixtape encapsulates the primal urge to participate — to leap into action, to stir our bodies into motion. It ignites the thrill of dancing, fostering joy and instilling positivity. This mixtape moves beyond mere kinetic energy, delving into the nuanced shifts in our emotional, cognitive and existential states as we engage with life’s perpetual dynamism.
Tracklist:
- Alice Clark – “Don’t You Care”
- Little Beaver – “Let the Good Times Roll”
- Cleon – “Boogaloo Pow”
- La Logia Sarabanda – “Guayaba”
- Kit Sebastian – “Yanimda Kal”
- Boulevards – “Together”
- Magic Sam – “Funky G Street”
- Erasmo Carlos – “Mundo Cão”
- Bin Juice – “Watermellon”
- Uschi Bruning – “Hochzeitsnacht”
- Universal Togetherness Band – “Ain’t Gonna Cry”
- CAN – “Don’t Say No”
- Soft Machine – “As Long As He Lies Perfectly Still”
- Arthur Russell – “Get Around to It”
- Acidslop – “Lament for the Sky”
- ESG – “Six Pack”
- Coati Mundi – “Que Pasa / Me No Pop I”
- Florence Adooni – “Mam Pe’ela Su’ure”
- Şenay – “Doy Doy Doyamadım”
- Marcos Valle – “Ele E Ela”
- Swamp Children – “You’ve Got Me Beat”
- Isabelle Antena – “Sweet Boy”
- Hamid Al Shaeri – “Git Ya Sheta”
- Elia y Elizabeth – “Buscándonos”
- Alberto Baldan Bembo – “Oblo’”
What do migrants bring with them? On a one-way trip to an unknown new life in a foreign land, perhaps they pack money, documents, clothes or some small keepsakes. Invisibly, intangibly and arguably most importantly, they also carry their culture.
Culture is made up of specific beliefs, attitudes and customs, as well as values, behaviors, clothing, cuisine, art and music. Far from erasing the existing culture of their new home, immigrants change culture for the better. By continuing to practice their own culture, immigrants not only stay in touch with their homeland but also add diversity to the new nation.
Throughout history, music has traversed borders, introducing new listeners to music from other parts of the world and even contributing to the creation of entirely new forms of music. Formed in Detroit, Michigan, in 1992, Immigrant Suns were pioneers of what became a new wave of American interest in the music of The Balkans, The Middle East, the Romani of Eastern Europe and ethnic folkloric music in general.
The term “world music” is generally considered to be a misnomer, as no group can truly represent the music of the world. Or so one would think until they heard Detroit’s Immigrant Suns. Their base sound is Eastern European with a Mediterranean inclination — their first album is titled Montenegro, after cofounder Djeto Juncaj’s homeland. However, Immigrant Suns’ music is much more than just the sounds of the Mediterranean. Drawing influences from every conceivable corner of the globe, Antarctica included, this combination of sounds is unlike anything you have ever heard and most likely will ever hear again.
The group enjoyed critical acclaim and gained a cult fan base around the USA, which it toured incessantly in the 1990s. Some of their most notable performances included the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta and Detroit’s 300th anniversary celebration. A true DIY project, Immigrant Suns never used a manager or publicist, but were featured on independent and college radio, on television and in critics’ picks from papers like The Chicago Reader, The Chicago Sun-Times, Metro Times and many more.
Collaborations from Immigrant Suns include work with dance groups, multi-media events and filmmakers. Musically, they collaborated with many artists, including Eugene Chadbourne, The Shaking Ray Levis, Frank Pahl, The Gold Sparkle Band, Gaida Hinnawi, Only a Mother, The Eyesores and many others. Acknowledgement from their peers came in many forms, as the Bay Area-based group Charming Hostess recorded an a cappella version of their song “Kafe Turke,” and The Gold Sparkle Band dedicated their piece “Motor City Fugue” to the group. Immigrant Suns also contributed the track “Surfing Albania” to the chart-topping world music compilation “Music Without Borders.” The track was featured prominently in reviews of the compilation by international press.
Over the course of eight years, the group released five albums that evolved from early impressionistic melding of archaic folk music and art rock into music that featured the sophisticated handling of many traditions, some experimental hybrids and even a big band version of the group.
In my opinion, the best and most accessible Immigrant Suns album would have to be their fifth and final work, Supernova. Released in 2002, Supernova brought a refined and restless approach to their old-globe style articulations in the context of new arrangement and improvisation. This album is a true picture of the group at full strength: Its tracks host anywhere from three to 10 players.
With Supernova, Immigrant Suns wondrously took on notions of popular song as interpreted through Russian folk tunes with “The Huffer,” through gypsy blues in an Appalachian setting with “Farewell,” through scorched-Earth Eastern dirge music bathed in country swamp rock with “The Veil” and through a pop song featuring a worldly and orchestral approach with “All Over The Street.”
My favorite song off the album is “Let’s Take Today.” Characterized by steady percussion and an enchanting violin, it is a true wonder to me that this song is not a massive hit. But the glory of this album lies in its closer, “Antipodes,” a near 11-minute long improvisation that nonetheless keeps the various modalities and scalar considerations of expanded and extrapolated harmony in full view. Supernova is a journey from the highest peak to the lowest valley. It is not only an album: It is a gratifying experience, a sonic delight and a work that truly exemplifies the greatness of Immigrant Suns.
Immigrant Suns’ eclectic sound is characterized by a combination of various instruments. Each band member plays at least four instruments over the duration of a show: among them are the qifteli (Albanian two-string gourd), bouzouki (Greek eight-string lute), mbira (West African thumb piano), oud (Persian 10-string lute) and tárogató (Hungarian folk clarinet). Armed with more than a dozen folk instruments — as well as such staples as bass, drums, violin, guitar, bassoon, cello and mandolin — Immigrant Suns host something truly unique. Although they have largely been inactive since 2002, barring a few festival and benefit appearances, their performances are fabled for their high energy and collective enjoyment. One thing’s for sure: If you’re going to see them, you’d best bring your dancing shoes.
Over 30 years since its inception, Immigrant Suns’ music still holds up today. A musical collective devoted to exploring sounds from all corners of the globe, the group reminds us that the world is much bigger than Detroit, but also that the entire world is contained within Detroit. Their sound, with its exotic spices and cross-cultural combinations, can be heard as a musical expression of the fabled Motor City melting pot.
Their combination of various ethnic sounds allows them to perform at not only the customary rock venues, but anywhere from Arabic functions in Dearborn to folk dances in Hamtramck and church parties in Southwest Detroit. Immigrant Suns inhabit a borderless musical world that stretches from Africa to the avant-garde, from Eastern Europe to East Dearborn. Bring dancing shoes from the culture of your choice, because their shows sport more dance floor activity than a tarantella outbreak at a whirling dervish convention. Immigrant Suns are not only staying in touch with their homeland through their music, but are diversifying their new home by introducing an American audience to the sounds of varying cultures and ethnicities. Combining art-rock sensibilities with sounds from every conceivable corner of the globe, here is a band that truly proves that Michigan music is world class.
Haru Nemuri stands as one of Japan’s most exciting emerging artists. Exploding onto the scene with 2017’s 春と修羅 (Haru to Shura), Haru and her unique blend of J-rock, noise pop, punk and hip-hop turned heads across the sea and domestically.
Her 2022 follow-up, 春火燎原 (Shunka Ryougen), was an album that was equally as satisfying, integrating a more esoteric approach with art-pop production and shifting structures while still retaining the lightning-strike energy that makes 春と修羅 (Haru to Shura) such a visceral listen.
Haru To Shura by HARU NEMURIAt SXSW 2023, The Impact had the chance to see Haru perform at Clive Bar, where she put on an explosive and passionate show.
Opening with “Deconstruction,” Haru unleashed the track’s iconic vocalizations, blasting an infectious earworm, perfectly singing “Where is my mind?” She energetically jumped around the stage, completely empowering herself with her own song’s energy.
After greeting the crowd by proudly exclaiming “What the fuck is up, Austin?” she beamed and expressed gratitude for her opportunity to perform in the USA. Immediately following this, she jumped head first into another of 春火燎原 (Shunka Ryougen)’s most catchy tracks, “Shunrai.”
With the pummeling drums, she screamed at the crowd with its infectious chorus, “Ai ai ai ai ai,” while the entire crowd screamed back at her. She wore a white Victorian dress reminiscent of the Japanese trend of Lolita fashion. The elegance of the lace created a stark juxtaposition with the brute-force dynamism of her music, almost crowning herself as the queen of the Japanese underground.
“Souzou Suru” followed, with its disjointed violin sample providing for unbelievable energy in the pit. People were dancing all around, with the squelching bass laying an easy rhythm to latch on to. The sparse and minimalist vocals during the song’s first half allowed the instrumental to breathe and become the center of attention.
Shunka Ryougen by HARU NEMURI
Haru decided to bring out some friends at the midpoint of her set, inviting Jaguar Jones, SiNNER Moon and Peatle. “ANGRY ANGRY,” a song she co-wrote with Jones, was written to be a feminist anthem in response to the predation and attempted murder of a Japanese woman by a 36-year-old man. The furious inflection provided by both Haru and Jones created one of the most visceral and emotive performances of her entire showcase, reinforcing an important and essential demand for what should be seen as basic human decency.
SiNNER Moon and Peatle hopped onto “Who The Fuck Is Burning The Forest?,” adding to the track with their auto-tuned vocals and echoing the song’s important message. The clashing textures were complimented excellently by bit-crushed snares, improving an already ascendent highlight from 火燎原 (Shunka Ryougen). Her vocal delivery approached screaming as the refrain progressed, then devolved into pure anger.
“Who the fuck is burning the forest? /
“Who the fuck is burning the forest?”
As the showcase began to hit its time limit, Haru had one last track for her audience: the titular “Shunka Ryougen.” This track wove together the past textures of her songs into an explosive finale. The instrumental included vocalizations, noisy guitars, screamed vocals and distant strings — all important pieces that appear across her works. The tender opening utilized her soft vocals before they progressed into cathartic screams against the same instrumental. By showcasing her very own versatility, she found a perfect way to wrap up the performance.
This brilliant showcase of pop experimentation exposed many new listeners to the sounds coming out of Japan, and if anyone can continue to challenge the Japanese pop landscape in such an exciting and inventive way, it is Haru Nemuri.
On the final day of Stoopfest 2023, I had the pleasure of speaking with the members of Detroit ska band J Navarro & The Traitors. I last saw the band on April 4, 2022, when they opened for The English Beat at the Majestic Theatre and was thrilled when I heard they were coming to Lansing to perform at Stoopfest.
The band is made up of varying established Detroit musicians, including Eric Abbey of 1592 and Dirty Notions; Scott Vesey of Trace The Veins; Jason Millbauer of Bad Assets; Steve Kachnowski of Telegraph; CEO of Reverend Guitars Ken Haas and Jay Navarro of Break Anchor, Hellmouth and The Suicide Machines. Filling the two-tone vacancy in the Detroit music scene, J Navarro & The Traitors are truly one of the best ska bands bringing it today.
The group is gearing up to release their second full length album, All of Us or None, out May 19 through Bad Time Records. They’re also preparing to embark on a West Coast tour in June, but local fans don’t fret, as you still have an opportunity to see them perform on May 20 for their record release show at the Magic Bag in Ferndale, Michigan. I know that I will definitely be in attendance to witness first hand the ska madness that is bound to ensue.
In an exclusive interview with Impact 89FM, they talk about a Smashing Pumpkins guitar theft, Detroit sports, skateboarding, the band’s upcoming album, their upcoming West Coast tour and much more. Listen in to hear all about J Navarro & The Traitors.
In the environment of terminally online music, textures and acts have become increasingly forward thinking, interconnected and influenced by a wide genre of music and art. Act upon act has seemingly sprouted overnight from the far corners of the Earth, bravely championing new sounds and a keen understanding of several genres. With the digital age bringing an easily accessible library of music to anyone at the snap of their fingers, it’s truly no wonder that we have such radical and challenging modes of artistic expression exploding from every country and continent.
otay:onii is another wonderful addition to this ever-growing list.
While covering this year’s SXSW festival, The Impact was lucky enough to catch her live set. Her surrealist animation and soundscapes absolutely dwarfed the stage presence of any other musical act. Playing the interior of the Hotel Vegas, the room was dimly lit in hues of red, allowing otay:onii complete control and command of the stage.
She played a plethora of material from her albums 冥冥 (Míng Míng) and 夢之駭客 Dream Hacker, but the mesmerizing performance interestingly enough wasn’t as a result of her phenomenal musicianship, but rather her sublime artistry weaving an unforgettable experience before our very eyes.
MíngMíng 冥冥 by otay:oniiAdorned in a glittering, woven red sweater, her head and face were obscured by a white covering. This headpiece contained a snaking trunk, presumably with a microphone affixed to the front of the mouth. This trunk coiled around her body from the head, appearing like a 7-foot tapeworm being swallowed.
otay:onii’s musical textures began to morph from their post-industrial palette to the metallic frenzy of electronica and even to neoclassical darkwave. Despite the crushing and bleak atmosphere, one’s eyes were consuming the content rather than the ears.
otay:onii’s costume and use of swirling textures created an apocalyptic, dystopic and avant set of performance art that was nothing short of breathtaking. Like a zombie, she would slowly approach the crowd and articulate her body in grotesque poses — equally an extension and addition of her art. Her demoness appearance served to completely immerse the audience in a showcase of her sound and vision. Her hand would reach out toward the crowd as she became a demonic siren serenading with a post-capitalist song.
As she receded toward the stage, she utilized a keytar to synthesize heavy and metallic sounds. The custom presets allowed her to toy with the atmosphere at will. She was locked in place, but still contorting her body in a grotesque fashion — perhaps being one of the only human beings to approach the uncanny valley.
Her hands violently hammered the keys, creating a serrated and dissonant atmosphere perfectly in line with the textures present on 冥冥 (Míng Míng) and 夢之駭客 Dream Hacker. This was helped by effects plugins and samples she had at her feet, which allowed her to reinvigorate the atmosphere with injections and manipulations of fresh sounds.
夢之駭客 Dream Hacker by otay:oniiToward the end of her set, she set aside her synths and began to utilize the ground itself as a stage for her performance. For her piece de la resistance, otay:onii fell to the floor, writhing in pure agony — or even ecstasy? — as the audience was consumed by her crashing walls of sound. Moving throughout the crowd, the energy bubbling in her set popped, and she exemplified the ensuing mania brilliantly with her energetic and cutting movements.
Encircling her was the audience, watching in awe as she screamed in a machine-like maelstrom of noise. She appeared on the cement floor like a fallen angel, both a victim of some imaginary god and the martyr of an extinguished cause in a truly terrifying, yet thrilling performance.
With many other performances during SXSW showcasing a traditional approach to the idea of the concert, it was wonderful to see a complete subversion of those expectations, integrating aspects of performance art, avant-garde music and even fashion to further the idea of what a musician can use the stage for.
For those who performed at SXSW, these 100-foot rectangles were merely their stage. For otay:onii, these rectangles were boundless, shapeless and broken for the sake of her art.
If it wasn’t made apparent by my articles that I have written over the course of the past year, one of my hobbies is finding fun and interesting music from across the globe. During my exploration, I came across a style of psychedelic rock from the world’s most famous transcontinental city, Istanbul. The largest city in Türkiye gave birth to the musical style known as Anatolian rock.
The genre itself has a long history, which may come as a bit of a surprise. It began as the brainchild of modern Türkiye’s founder, Atatürk, who wanted to create a national identity through music. This national identity mostly took form through Anatolian folk, which differentiated itself from the music of the Ottoman Empire. Anatolian folk takes traditional melodies from across the vast nation and combines them with Western notation.
The aforementioned project, called the Tanzimat reforms, began in 1923. With these reforms, Anatolian folk music was collected, archived and spread across the young nation. An example of the Anatolian folk that became widespread throughout Türkiye is “Bolu Dağları” by Barış Manço. I’ll come back to Manço in a bit.
Much like the rest of the world during the 1950s, rock ‘n’ roll took over Türkiye’s airwaves. Bands such as the Tornados and the Ventures, as well as soloists like Elvis and Bill Haley, spurred this popularity. The popularity of these songs led many Turkish artists, including Erol Büyükburç, to make English covers of popular American songs. Büyükburç eventually became a legendary singer because of his own creations, but the covers gave him a platform to springboard off of. Büyükburç was credited with creating one of the first Turkish pop songs with his track “Little Lucy.” One of his first covers was of The Gladiolas’ song “Little Darlin’.”
As more and more Turkish artists began to write their own songs, more and more Western influences began to find their way into the music that was coming out of Türkiye. Manço’s 1975 track, “2023,” is a great example of this. The nearly 7-and-a-half minute song features Manço monologuing, leading into a synth-led instrumental that lasts for the majority of the song. Saxophone and flute also find their way into “2023.”
But who exactly was Manço? He was considered the catalyst behind the popularity of Anatolian rock in 1960s Türkiye. His band Harmoniler was one of the first groups to mix Anatolian folk music with growing rock sounds, as well as being one of the first to add a psychedelic twist to the sounds they created.
During that same period, Manço was a member of the legendary band Moğollar. Moğollar was a band that would redefine what Anatolian rock was, as they were one of the most popular bands during their existence, even if they disbanded in 1976.
Sadly, this golden age of Anatolian rock would not last. On Sept. 12, 1980, a military coup overthrew the government of Türkiye. Many of the musicians who were synonymous with Anatolian rock likewise became synonymous with leftist thinking. These artists faced censure, with artists like Cem Karaca, also a member of Moğollar at one point, having to flee abroad while others were imprisoned. With a massive vacuum at the top of the Turkish music scene, genres such as Arabesque filled the void. These new genres were a more accurate representation of the time as a whole.
Following a return to democracy in 1989, a new wave of Turkish rock began. This wave strayed away from the roots of Anatolian rock and began to sound more and more like bands from the West. One of these bands that came from this new wave is maNga. maNga is most remembered for their participation in the 2010 edition of Eurovision, where their song “We Could Be the Same” took second place.
In the late 2010s, however, Anatolian rock saw a revival. One of the artists leading this revival is Gaye Su Akyol. Before her career in music, she had a successful career as a painter. Painting is something that runs in her family, as her father, Muzaffer Akyol, is a famous painter in his own right. Akyol has not only been a pioneer in this revival of Anatolian rock, but she has also become an important figure for Türkiye’s LGBTQIA+ community, even featuring in İris, a documentary about a bisexual trans woman in Türkiye.
The revival of Anatolian rock isn’t just limited to Türkiye itself. Altın Gün is a predominantly Dutch band that was formed thanks to an ad on Facebook, where the bassist was looking for Turkish musicians to join. The band has become one of the most prominent Anatolian rock groups, with their 2019 album Gece being nominated for a Grammy for Best World Music Album. The band released their fifth album, Aşk, on March 31, 2023, and the following song is one of the tracks off of it:
Even with the revival still in its infancy, the future is bright for Anatolian rock.
We open in Italy. Bella’s running through the crowd; a clock strikes. We don’t know what’s happening. It’s a total Fight Club move. She runs through a bush and finds herself in a meadow, staring at an older version of herself. Edward appears — wearing a sport coat? — to wish her a happy birthday. This is such a Twilight opening: It’s like one big, convoluted plot hole, and somehow Robert Pattinson is paler than ever.
Okay, don’t worry; that was all just a dream. Charlie wakes Bella on her birthday, and we learn it’s her senior year of high school! She drives to school in her trusty truck to the backing of Hurricane Bells’ “Monster,” a nice indie-rock tune with a chorus of:
“Wait, okay, you’ve got to look before you go /
Wait, okay, you’ve got to look before you go.”
This chorus gives really apt advice for Bella — if you remember her incident in this school parking lot last year. She says hi to her friends, but who cares about them? The Cullens pull up, and Edward walks as slowly as a vampire possibly could to the lyrics “deep into the darkness.” In my review of the first movie’s soundtrack, it became clear that you could piece together a synopsis purely based on the lyrics in the soundtrack, and I think we’re on a similar path here for round two.
Jacob then shows up to the school parking lot, because apparently it’s the place to be. Edward is jealous — and weird. Not much is new with him. They walk into the school and are greeted by perhaps the only Cullen with a zest for life, Alice. She invites Bella over to her house for a birthday dinner while Jasper stares from down the hall. I think this is technically foreshadowing, but it’s also just Jasper being Jasper.
The party ensues just as soon as Edward has a chance to explain to Bella that the Volturi have one law, and they’ve kind of already broken it by letting her into the family. Nonetheless, Bella opens her gifts to “The Violet Hour” by Sea Wolf. The song is upbeat and, honestly, cute. And Sea Wolf truly never would have anticipated the resonance of this line for a man who’s been pretending to breathe this whole time:
“You breathe your sweet breath /
And have me wait.”
But things take a turn: Bella cuts her finger opening a gift from Carlisle and Esme. Jasper lunges, Edward leaps — literally leaps — and Carlisle demands Emmet take Jasper out of the room. It’s almost reminiscent of the baseball scene from the first movie, but it’s less fun.
Bella and Edward get back to her house and she continues to beg him to change her. They share perhaps the most awkward-looking kiss of all time, and Bella goes inside to print out pictures of Edward to “Roslyn” by Bon Iver and St. Vincent. I get it; I decorated my room the same way. “Roslyn” has a sweet, melancholy melody. And the lyrics are appropriately dramatic and pretentious. It’s also one of those songs that just sounds like Twilight. When I started writing this, my roommate asked me if this was the movie “Roslyn” was in. The song continues as Bella doesn’t see Edward at school — he’s in her room, of course. When she gets home, they take a walk into the woods.
Edward breaks the news to Bella that he’s skipping town, and she’s not invited. She promises not to do anything reckless, and he promises she’ll never see him again. Both of these promises will be broken before the movie’s over; don’t worry too much. A devastated Bella collapses on the forest floor, honestly an underreaction to Pattinson breaking up with you.
This brings us to one of the most iconic scenes of cinematic history. Bella sits, looking out her window, and the camera pans around her as the seasons change and “Possibility” by Lykke L plays. Over the music, Bella narrates letters she has written to Alice to no response. This scene is not only shockingly well done for a Twilight movie — which I say with love — but it is also a wonderful way to depict Bella’s turmoil and her nightmares in the months without Edward. The lyrics to “Possibility” are, once again, quite literally a description of the action of the last scene.
“By blood and by me /
And I fall when you leave.”
Charlie tells Bella he’s worried about her and, to appease him, she calls Anna Kendrick to hang out. Bella looks down into an alley at a strange, middle-aged motorcycle gang, and she sees an apparition of Edward telling her not to do anything dangerous. This apparition is accompanied by Band Of Skulls’ “Friend,” a catchy little indie-rock song about searching for something unknown and the lengths you would go to find it. Poignant for dear Bella — if only the fourth wall weren’t soundproof. But she’s her, and, dear reader, level with yourself here: Would you not go to similar lengths to see ghost Pattinson?
After her brief joyride with a man who looks like a middle school history teacher, Bella drives over to see Jacob, whose hair has grown a shocking amount this school year. He delivers the infamous “Bella, where the hell have you been, loca?” line, to which she actually never responds.
She asks him to help her fix up some junkyard motorcycles. They work in Jacob’s garage with a montage set to OK Go’s “Shooting the Moon.” I feel like, even for Twilight, setting the one main scene with the werewolf before he’s in his werewolf era to a song about the moon is a little too dead on. It’s also possible, actually likely, that they gave OK Go no real instruction other than “werewolf,” and said “Go nuts.” In that case, this is a cute song for a cute scene.
They head out to test the bikes and, immediately upon acceleration, ghost Pattinson is back. Bella swerves off the road and into a rock, trying to see him. Jacob remedies her head wound by taking off his shirt to dab the blood. The next day at school, Mike asks Bella to the movies. Don’t feel bad, reader, if you’ve forgotten Mike, or even googled “who’s the guys asking Bella out in New Moon.” I found myself in the same predicament. She agrees, for some reason, and somehow ends up at the movies with just him and Jacob. Jacob tries to fight Mike — an understandable urge — and they leave.
After Jacob doesn’t answer her calls, Bella shows up at the Black house. She finds Jacob with short hair and few clothes. He is angry and standing in the pouring rain. He tells her they can’t be friends anymore and prances back into the woods.
Bella, missing Edward, goes to a meadow and runs into Laurent, a rival vampire. When he starts asking questions about the Cullens, ghost Edward appears, simply saying “lie” and “lie better.” When Laurent sees through Bella’s lies, despite Edward’s instruction, and tries to kill her, she whispers an “I love you” to Edward. Luckily, a wolf comes out of the forest at just the right moment! This is the first actual werewolf vs. vampire fight of the series, and it’s just as stupid as one might imagine. Also, all the wolves look like stuffed animals.
Bella reports to Charlie that there are killer wolves in the woods. He inquires as to what she was doing in the woods, which may be the first reasonable piece of dialogue in this movie, and he arranges a wolf hunt.
While Bella waits at home, she hears rocks at her window. Jacob, who seems to have developed an allergy to his usual cotton blend shirts, parkours into her window and says absolutely nothing of worth. He once again gallops into the woods.
The next day, Bella storms the Black house and finds Jacob’s new friends, all shirtless, in the yard. There’s some wolf vs. wolf action, and some of the boys take Bella to safety at a wolf house. When Jacob comes back to justify the whole thing, he assures her that the Cullens are safe, but the wolves are after the other vampires.
In a stroke of genius, New Moon inserts an original by Thom Yorke, of Radiohead fame, to show things are getting serious. To the sounds of “Hearing Damage,” we see wolves chasing vampires through the woods, and Bella, coincidentally also in the woods, prepares to cliff jump while fighting with her ghost vampire boyfriend, who urges her not to jump. Yorke solemnly sings about a girl who could do no wrong. This girl is objectively not Bella.
She does jump, and we see her underwater. Her and ghost Edward stare at each other for a moment while “Slow Life” by Grizzly Bear plays. The lyric “You’re the only one I see” could be a sentiment from either of them. It’s calm for a brief moment until we see Bella back on the shore with Jacob. He’s doing chest compressions, but really slowly. I’ll chalk this up to an acting error, not a murder attempt.
Jacob drives Bella home and she sees Carlisle’s car in the driveway. She finds a distraught Alice inside. Alice had seen a vision of the cliff diving and had come to see what was wrong with Bella, which is fair. Jacob comes into the house, despite it being vampire territory, almost kisses Bella and then answers the phone and implies to Edward that Bella is dead. This guy sucks.
Alice tells Bella that Edward will go to the Volturi to kill himself. Jacob begs Bella not to go after him, but nobody cares. Bella and Alice set off to Italy.
The Volturi would rather have Edward join them than die. This is the only way they can make friends, I suppose. Edward plans to step into the sunlight at noon and dazzle — literally dazzle and sparkle in the city center — so the Volturi will execute him.
Bella runs through the crowd — hey, this is the opening scene — and tackles a shiny Edward back inside. He’s thrilled to see her; The Volturi are far less pleased. They consider killing Edward; they consider killing Bella, but Alice announces that she’s seen the future and that Bella will become a vampire. The Cullens and Bella leave with the promise that Bella will be turned soon.
Back in Forks, Washington, Bella wakes up from a nightmare to find Edward lurking on her bed, just like old times. Edward tells Bella they can keep the Volturi in the dark and not change her, but Bella disagrees, and, in the spirit of democracy, arranges a Cullen family vote on the matter. Vampire Bella wins.
After a brief driving interruption from a werewolf in the road, Edward tells Bella he’ll change her himself on one condition: He marries her. She gasps, and we cut to black.
The credits feature Death Cab for Cutie’s “Meet Me on the Equinox,” which contains lyrics that nod to Edward’s plan to reveal himself at noon in the sunlight:
“Meet me on the Equinox /
Meet me halfway /
When the sun is perched at its highest peak /
In the middle of the day.”
This song is good, but it’s great if you have trouble remembering what noon is.
The soundtrack for this movie is, once again, so on the nose, so poignant, so indie vampire. I truly don’t think I would have it any other way.
Surging through every park, backyard, garage and bar during Stoopfest, Lansing’s annual not-for-profit DIY festival, is one thing: intimacy. During Stoopfest, there is an unspoken togetherness residing in the little interactions between members of the surrounding community, whether that be through petting dogs and conversing with their owners, through exchanging stories and goods with local vendors, through lying back with others on the same cool grass or through whatever else may emerge when music is present, friends are near and potholes are ubiquitous.
As the sun was setting on day one of Stoopfest and 9 p.m. rolled around, that aforementioned intimacy was about to take its most concrete form yet. Detroit rapper Quelle Chris took the stage, conversed with crowd members, exited the stage, lit a cigarette, re-entered the stage and kicked off his performance with “Alive Ain’t Always Living.”
Quelle Chris performing on Friday, April 21, 2023 at Stoopfest in Lansing, Michigan (Jake Rhodes)After this opening track, Quelle Chris set expectations for the rest of his performance, saying, “We’re gonna do some of this rap shit… We’re gonna fly outta here through a couple of trees.”
What followed was indeed some of this rap shit. And, in the end, I’d say the crowd flew out of Hunter Park through a couple of trees, on the back of a performance based around self-love, healing and letting an entire crowd’s emotions scream upward into the night sky’s loving, undisturbed arms.
During Quelle Chris’ performance of “Buddies,” he had the crowd sing along with him as he said, “I fuck with myself” and “I just might jump back and kiss myself” before turning his back to the crowd, pretending to passionately kiss himself and smacking himself on the butt.
After “Buddies” concluded, he broke out into a five-second cover of Justin Timberlake’s “SexyBack,” shouting “I’m bringing sexy back” into the mic. Then, because quoting Quelle Chris’s performance is just too much fun, he re-set expectations for the crowd, saying “We’re gonna travel back through time and do 420 twice” before discussing how he and the crowd were building a Voltron through this experience.
Quelle Chris performing on Friday, April 21, 2023 at Stoopfest in Lansing, Michigan (Jake Rhodes)For those unaware, Voltron is a massive robot piloted by space explorers from the animated shows Voltron: Defender of the Universe, Voltron Force and more. In Voltron: Defender of the Universe, Voltron is formed when these five space explorers — who each command a robot lion — combine the lions into one super robot.
Not too long after his Voltron epiphany, Quelle Chris had the crowd close their eyes and picture their spirit animals. Then, he asked everyone to think about the sound those spirit animals would make before leading an organized cacophony in which everyone bellowed together. Throughout his next song, the spirit animal bellows exploded and faded at his beckoning.
Following the uncaging of Lansing’s spirit animals, Quelle Chris proposed a toast using a half-full water bottle which he jokingly lamented as unfit for the toasting job. When he asked a fan what everyone should toast to, the fan yelled, “We’re toasting to the Ghost of Christmas Past.” Laughing, Quelle Chris raised his bottle, and “to the Ghost of Christmas Past” it was.
“Popeye” blessed the crowd a couple tracks later, and, according to Quelle Chris, it was step six of the Voltron form.
“Straight Shot” followed, and Quelle Chris took the opportunity to put the bond between him and the crowd into words. He stated that so many look at live shows like it’s someone standing up on a stage and being isolated/unbound to the people singing and dancing below, but he wanted to grind that notion to dust and blow it away. As he put it, “We’re all sharing in this moment together.”
Quelle Chris performing on Friday, April 21, 2023 at Stoopfest in Lansing, Michigan (Jake Rhodes)For Quelle Chris and Stoopfest as a whole, intimacy is the creature that runs through everything beautiful about live music. The live setting brings a deep connection to self, to community, to life entirely. For an existence fractured, withering, blooming, healing: “We’re all sharing in this moment together.”
The next song was an apt one: “Sudden Death,” in which “You’ll find it’s worth it, ‘cause life ain’t perfect” serves as the closing line.
And, to end a night of spirit animals, Voltron, the Ghost of Christmas Past, marijuana and intimacy, Quelle Chris had the crowd moving with its greatest ferocity yet to “Obamacare.”
The performance was a beautiful transition into Stoopfest’s second day, and it was also a much-needed reminder of what we forget all too often: that in this life, in this place, with these people, “We’re all sharing in this moment together.”
This year marks the 40th anniversary of Karen Carpenter’s death at the age of 32, a result of complications from anorexia nervosa. From the outside, Karen Carpenter looked like a rockstar. Playing the drums as one half of The Carpenters and possessing what Paul McCartney called “the best female voice in the world,” Karen Carpenter’s smooth, melodic voice and heartfelt lyrics made The Carpenters one of the most successful groups of the early 1970s. However, stardom came at a steep price as she struggled with body image issues and eating disorders which caused her premature death on Feb. 4, 1983.
Born on March 2, 1950, in New Haven, Connecticut, Karen Carpenter moved with her family to Downey, California in 1963. With her on drums, her older brother Richard Carpenter on the piano and their friend Wes Jacobs on the bass and tuba, the trio won a battle of the bands at The Hollywood Bowl in 1966. Additionally, Karen and Richard Carpenter formed another band, Spectrum, with four fellow students at California State University at Long Beach that played several gigs before disbanding. Finally, in 1969, they began making music as a duo and shopped around several demo music tapes to different record companies. In 1970, they were signed to A&M Records as The Carpenters. This marked their rise to fame, but also the beginning of Karen Carpenter’s anorexia. Their first hit was a reworking of The Beatles song “Ticket to Ride” and was followed by a re-recorded version of Kurt Bacharach’s “Close To You,” which went on to sell over 1 million copies.
As the hits racked up, Karen Carpenter was pressured by both her brother and A&M Records to forgo her role as a drummer in order to become a more decorative frontwoman. Feeling exposed and self-conscious, she began a stringent diet and exercise regime. With her on lead vocals and her brother on piano and backup vocals, The Carpenters soon became one of the most successful groups of the early 1970s. They won three Grammy awards, embarked on a world tour and landed their own TV variety series in 1971 titled Make Your Own Kind of Music.
Before long, Karen Carpenter’s anorexia began to impact her music. The Carpenters had to cancel their 1975 European tour because she was too weak to perform. By summer of 1975, her weight had plummeted to 91 pounds, and she checked into Cedars-Sinai Medical Centre, which would be her first of many stays in the hospital.
For the next eight years, her weight would fluctuate, but she remained focused on her music. In 1979, when her brother was recovering from a quaalude addiction and entered rehab, she took the opportunity to record a solo album with Phil Ramone in New York. At 29 years old, Karen Carpenter was finally exploring her individuality as a musician. Encouraged by the positive reaction her album received in New York, she was excited to bring it to her record label. However, A&M Records rejected the album, and it wasn’t released until 1996, which was 13 years after Karen Carpenter’s death.
Karen Carpenter spent most of 1982 seeking therapy for chronic anorexia from psychotherapist Dr. Steven Levenkron. In September 1982, she was admitted to intensive care at Lenox Hill Hospital, weighing just 77 pounds. After gaining some weight, she discharged herself and, in February 1983, went to her parents’ house to sort through some old clothes when she collapsed in a walk-in closet from cardiac arrest. Doctors revealed that her long battle with anorexia nervosa had stretched her heart to the breaking point. The music world was left reeling, and her untimely death came as a shock to many of her fans.
Karen Carpenter’s tragic death at only 32 years old marked the beginning of greater awareness about eating disorders and mental health. The Karen Carpenter Foundation, established in 1985 by her brother, Richard Carpenter, has been a driving force in promoting awareness of anorexia nervosa and other eating disorders. Karen Carpenter kept her battle secret, but many younger female singers — such as Taylor Swift, Kesha, Halsey and Lady Gaga — now critique that cultural idealization of thinness and the beauty standards imposed upon celebrities.
Karen Carpenter’s life and music continues to be celebrated over 40 years after her passing. Her songs, including “Close to You,” “Rainy Days and Mondays” and “We’ve Only Just Begun” remain classics of the era, and her legacy as a singer and songwriter lives on. She enchanted millions with her voice and performing ability while at the same time battling anorexia nervosa. With numerous timeless hits and a distinctive three-octave contralto range, as well as having furthered awareness surrounding eating disorders and mental health issues, Karen Carpenter is not a musician who will soon be forgotten. Her legacy has continued to grow in the decades since her death, as her music and message continue to inspire and impact generations of listeners everywhere.
Welcome to the Boiling Isles, a world filled with magic, witches, demons and dictators. The Owl House follows Luz the Human as she skips her summer camp to become a witch under the guidance of Eda the Owl Lady. Fun, right? However, our protagonist and her pals become increasingly traumatized as they discover the true plans of their beloved emperor, unlock several ancient evils and plot to stop the annihilation of all witch and demon-kind at the hands of a far out-of-touch boomer.
Created by Dana Terrace, the animated show is arguably one of Disney’s most popular as of late. This is largely thanks to the series’ captivating serialized plot and its abundance of LGBTQ+ representation, including Disney’s first bisexual lead, Luz Noceda, and the company’s first non-binary character, Raine Whispers. These factors, as well as several others, played a large part in the growth of the show’s massive fanbase.
However, these factors were both a blessing and a curse, as the LGBTQ+ representation has sparked boycotts from groups such as “One Million Moms” and has caused the show to be censored or banned in multiple countries. While fans hypothesize that this is the reason for the show’s eventual cancellation — its third and final season was cut to three specials, rather than the usual twenty-ish episodes — Terrace has insisted that is not the case, citing the serialized plot as not fitting into the company or channel’s brand in a Reddit AMA. Whatever the case, the fan base is still going strong in their support for the show and hopes for further continuations of the story.
While the show is by no means a musical, fans have written countless nerdcore songs inspired by the show, such as “Make Believe” by Jakeneutron, and have co-opted songs unrelated to the show, such as “Little Miss Perfect” by Write Out Loud, a song most often associated with Luz’s bully-turned-romantic-interest, Amity Blight. The show itself has introduced enchanting pieces such as “Eda’s Requiem” and “The Collector’s Theme (Whatcha Playin’?)” via its score, which was composed by TJ Hill in the first season and Brad Breeck in the second and third, with collaboration from Andrew Morgan Smith in the third.
The score is magnificent. Especially in the first season, there tends to be a preference for musical enhancement over sound effects, a style much more common in dialogue-free short films such as Disney’s Inner Workings than in movies and TV. Every bounce and fall, every spell circle and demonic attack is enhanced by musical notation that makes sense within the episode’s suite, rather than just Foley sound laid over the music. That’s not to say that there aren’t sound effects throughout the series, but the method used is fairly unique for this medium. This technique makes for a much more interesting viewing and listening experience.
Side note, this is where the real spoilers start:
One of the most captivating suites of the show is that of season two episode seven, “Eda’s Requiem.” The episode follows Eda as she reunites with a former lover, Raine, in the fight against the emperor and his coven system. However, Eda’s sudden involvement with the BATs — Bards Against the Throne — does not come out of nowhere. At this time, she is coping in advance with her empty nest syndrome, as she knows that her apprentice, Luz, will soon be returning to the Human Realm. She is also worried that her ward, King of Demons, is growing into his own and will soon wish to leave as well.
A large part of Eda’s character growth throughout the series is her growing maturity, especially through her maternal relationship to King and Luz. She is also coping with the increasing severity of her curse, something that is heavily allegorical for a chronic illness or disability. Her reintroduction to Raine, as well as her reuniting with her parents three episodes prior, serves as a reminder of all that the curse has taken from her: the people she has pushed away, the pain it has caused her and the life she will eventually lose because of it.
The title “Eda’s Requiem” reveals all. A requiem is a song of remembrance, most often played for those who have moved on to the afterlife. The motif of “Dies Irae,” “Danse Macabre” and Mozart’s “Requiem” are all excellent examples of this. Eda names the song herself, quipping, “‘Raine’s Rhapsody,’ more like ‘Eda’s Requiem.’”
Eda manages to keep her worries a secret from everyone until the culmination of everything in the episode’s final battle. Eda and Raine stand back to back, playing their song. The curse is overtaking them both, poisoning the bard magic to destroy everything within an audible radius. Raine knows they have nothing left to lose — they have unwittingly become a pawn in a corrupt government — but they have no idea what Eda is prepared to give up. That is, until the photo of Luz and King falls from Eda’s pocket and Raine says, “Eda, you have kids?” Despite their begging, Eda plays on, clutching the instrument until it is taken from her. Eda denies that Luz and King are her real kids and refuses to acknowledge what she would lose because, in her mind, she has played her own requiem a thousand times over. To herself, she is already lost. It is a truly heartbreaking scene heightened by the haunting melody, a requiem performed by the one it was intended to mourn.
Anyway, now that the sad stuff is out of the way, another of the show’s most iconic works is “The Collector’s Theme (Whatcha Playin’?).” This song sits on the opposite end of the spectrum from “Eda’s Requiem.” Rather than a soul-crushing legato melody, this song is bouncy and staccato. It replaces the gentle violin and lute with prickly synth and percussion. The range between these two songs showcases the composers’ ability in such a magnificent way. It’s a lighthearted, jovial tune that many find delightful, but its use in the show is utterly horrifying.
The first time we truly hear this theme in its full magnificence is in the season two finale, “King’s Tide.” It comes during the dreaded Day of Unity, an event built up to since the first episode. Everyone with a coven sigil is dying, so it’s left to the kids to save the day. King separates from the group, finding the imprisoned Collector, whom Emperor Belos cast aside. Just wanting to save his family, King releases the young imp.
The theme plays as the Collector, a mere child, turns the show’s main villain into goop with a simple flick of his wrist and moves the literal moon like it is a speck on an iPad. The song is truly such a silly theme, but nearly every time it plays, the Collector displays the power to tear apart realities, turn people into puppets and make the world his plaything. The intense juxtaposition of this absolute clown music with everything the Collector does is honestly marvelous and beautifully displays the composers’ skills, especially in regard to its divergence from the rest of the score.
The Owl House is a truly astounding television series, from its inspiring representation to its inability to talk down to its audience. It is a crime that Disney made the choice to pull the plug on the series. However, the show’s composers and its legion of creatively brilliant fans have left us with more than enough music to tide us over until Terrace’s next big hit.
On our final day of SXSW, March 18, WDBM got to sit down and talk with Nicole Rodriguez of Pearla to discuss her new album Oh Glistening Onion, The Nighttime is Coming and some of the small but special moments that come with the production of an album over the course of several years. We also talked about songwriting advice that helped her hone in on some of the tracks of this record as well as her desire to explore the voice as an instrument. Listen on in!
WDBM got to catch up with dream pop/shoegaze band Knifeplay on the heels of their latest album, Animal Drowning, at SXSW. I first saw them perform the day before the interview, on March 16, after a storm warning delayed their set. However tiring it was to huddle into the small inside of this bar for two hours, the weather ended up setting a perfect environment for their brand of stormy music that took hold in the crowd when they did go on stage. We got to talking about fellow Philadelphia bands they enjoy, non-music art forms that inspire them and other instruments and sounds they’d like to explore in future projects. Listen to Animal Drowning and tap on into the interview!
In a different, tragic week in music history, rock legend Freddie Mercury passed away in 1991. This week, however, had the music industry coming together in their grief. On April 20, 1992, some of the biggest names in entertainment joined together at the Freddie Mercury Concert for Life. The concert was organized by Brian May, Roger Taylor and John Deacon to both remember their bandmate’s legacy but to also bring awareness to the epidemic that had taken Mercury’s life: AIDS. According to the website of the Mercury Phoenix Foundation, the charity set up in his honor, they have raised millions of dollars to fight AIDS, which they estimate affects nearly 40 million people around the world.
The line up for this event 31 years ago was absolutely stacked. Aside from Queen themselves, there was Elton John, George Michael, Liza Minelli and David Bowie, to name a few. Shown in a documentary on Queen’s official YouTube channel, Wembley Stadium was packed with 80,000 cheering and grieving fans, with countless more on television. The artists sang a mix of Queen’s greatest songs and some of their own. Elton John and Axl Rose sang a triumphant rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Elton John, who also has his own prominent AIDS foundation, played the piano and handled the melodic beginning while Axl Rose sang the loud rock ending, all to raucous applause. My own favorite performance is George Michael’s version of “Somebody to Love,” though I don’t know if it’s because it makes me think about Michael’s own premature death, or that he sang this powerful ballad about searching for love as a closeted gay man in the height of the AIDS epidemic. Things that make me cry aside, this concert brought together countless people — from the rock star to the average fan — to celebrate and to mourn, and to leave an impact felt throughout music history, not just this week.
~Madison Reinhold
They may have been, in the words of John Lennon, “more popular than Jesus,” but that is something the Vatican didn’t particularly vibe with. It took the Vatican 34 years to forgive the Beatle for those words. Sadly, Lennon wasn’t alive when this happened. In his stead, Ringo Starr rejected the forgiveness from the Vatican in 2010.
In an article in the Vatican’s L’Osservatore Romano newspaper, the editors wrote that the Beatles said they were bigger than Jesus and put out messages that bordered on Satanic, but what would pop music be without them? Ringo rejected their forgiveness, pointing out their Satanic callouts, and that they have more to talk about than the Beatles.
~Ashe Burr
On April 22, 1989, Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” hit No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. A controversial music video and a dropped $5 million Pepsi sponsorship not only propelled the song to the top of the charts, but helped it achieve a legendary status many could only dream of.
Her seventh of 12 No. 1 singles, “Like a Prayer” was a very important moment in Madonna’s career. Her ability to mix religious symbolism and iconography with topics of racial discrimination and sexuality was highly praised and perfectly showcased her outspoken nature when it came to taboo subjects. She is a true artist, unafraid to use her art to stand for what she believes in — even if it gets her into trouble. Without her and the risks she took with “Like a Prayer,” the pop culture landscape would be a completely different place.
~Ryan McMillan
WDBM got to go down to Austin, Texas for SXSW this year and see a bunch of great shows and talk to some of the musicians playing. This first interview was with Ian Shelton of the punk/post-hardcore band Militarie Gun on March 16. We talked about his collaboration with other artists like Woolworm and MSPAINT, the grueling nature of touring and the process that led up to the amalgamation of two EP’s into the album All Roads Lead To The Gun, released this past October. As a personal aside, “Big Disappointment” has been stuck in my head for so long so it was absolutely sick to see him perform it live during the trip!
Minnesota-based rock band Hippo Campus and Detroit-born rapper Danny Brown took the Breslin stage by storm this past Tuesday.
The University Activities Board (UAB,) Impact 89FM, Associated Students of Michigan State University (ASMSU) and Residence Halls Association (RHA) hosted and organized Michigan State’s annual spring concert. The artists gave an energetic performance – opener Danny Brown delivered a forty-five minute set and headliner Hippo Campus performed for an hour.
From the moment Brown stepped on stage and the audience felt the bass from the speakers, the crowd was filled with jumping, dancing and mosh pits. Some audience members questioned if JPEGMAFIA would make an appearance for songs that were recently released off the album “SCARING THE HOES.” Even though he did not make an appearance, Brown’s performance and song choices did not disappoint.
Both musical acts brought a sense of community and connection to the audience. They validated the experience of Spartans and the difficulties they have faced these last six weeks following the events from Feb 13.
One audience member held up a sign asking Brown to sing “I Will,” in which he replied he was not going to initially perform and did anyway.
During Hippo Campus’ performance of their 2015 single “South,” band member Nathan Stocker changed the lyrics to “Go Green, Go White.”
Hippo Campus’ multi-colored and light-filled performance was incomparable to Michigan State’s virtual concert in 2020. Both new students and those who attended through a computer screen just a few years ago could finally enjoy their in-person performance. Hippo Campus effortlessly brings an euphoric energy and excitement to their crowds, making this past Tuesday an emotional and intimate experience.
Hear our exclusive interview with Hippo Campus ahead of their performance at the Breslin Center:
Students could be seen eagerly lining up outside the Breslin doors four hours before they opened. The line extended to the road. As soon as the doors opened, students anxiously filled the floor of the venue and seats in the upper mezzanine.
Freshman Sofia Aultman said she is a huge fan of Hippo Campus and an even bigger fan of Danny Brown. She said it was surreal to see the artists up close at Michigan State and hear the fight song play before Hippo Campus took the stage. Aultman waited in line for an hour and a half before the doors opened.
“I’ve never been so close to the band at a concert before,” Aultman said. “Honestly, it was so cool! I loved every second of it. I met some really cool people in the crowd and heard some amazing music live for very cheap which is so awesome.”
Hippo Campus’ Stocker, also known as Brotherkenzie, sat down with Impact 89FM’s Delaney Rogers, Taylor Truszkowski and Matt Cruz with a chance to connect with them in person and discuss what fans can expect from their upcoming EP “Wasteland,” pre-show rituals and the evolution of the band.
The band’s newest EP comes out April 14. Their latest singles, “Kick in the Teeth” and “Yippie Ki Yay,” display a western sound, hinting to what is yet to come from “Wasteland.” The band has experimented with sounds in recent years and the two singles provide a twangy introduction to their music’s newest era.
Hippo Campus fuses the themes of innocence, maturity, fame and coming of age into the lyrics of their music. Stocker said this upcoming EP has a concept of imposter syndrome and feeling out of place in the environment you are in. He described it as a false sense of coincidence.
“The idea of a false cowboyhood just kind of resonated with us, and I think for maybe a lot of people,” Stocker said. “Just with the way that trends work these days… you put a cowboy hat on and it kind of feels like you suddenly have opened up a world that you could explore even if you’re not from anywhere down south.”
Stocker said that “Wasteland” is also about finding yourself in a place that feels foreign or uncomfortable. This is a frequent theme for Hippo Campus which is highlighted throughout their discography in songs such as “Western Kids” and “Baseball,” which bring a sense of transparency to the raw reality of growing up and adjusting to different world views.
“Translating that to music and the way that we were writing the songs wasn’t really at the forefront,” Stocker said. “It came kind of later as the songs materialized in recording. It feels like there’s a lot of wasteland space out there. You can’t find it online, or you can’t find any sort of safe place online anymore, and it’s even harder kind of in the real world cause you have to build that up with others.”
Stocker said that “Yippie Ki Yay” took six years to finish and was one of the most difficult songs to write. The new single was initially written for their first album, “Landmark,” which brought more of a hazy, dreamy sound. “Yippie Ki Yay” did not find a home for an album or EP until “Wasteland” was written.
“Front to back that one took quite a while to develop,” Stocker said. “Other songs are really easy, they kind of just fall out of you.”
Hippo Campus began their career in 2015 with an EP titled “Bashful Creatures.” Since then, the band has released three albums and several EPs. They grew from playing small venues such as the 1,000 capacity sized venue Crofoot in Pontiac, Michigan to headlining at the over 9,500 capacity sized venue Red Rocks this upcoming May.
“I think we try to practice a daily gratitude for where we are and where we could be,” Stocker said. “If we were still playing basements in Minneapolis, I think I would still be enjoying it and invested in it. It’s impossible to really discern, but I think in the spirit of commitment to my friends and the band and the music that we make and the impact that we have and want to have on our fans and surrounding people, I think it’s all worth it at the end of the day with that simple striving alone.”
The members of Hippo Campus have solo careers outside of the band as well. Stocker said that it has always been a work in progress to figure out and the hardest thing to do is align schedules. However, he says that they are extremely supportive of another’s personal and creative endeavors.
Band member Jake Luppen in recent years has been more transparent about his sexuality in Hippo Campus’ music as well as in his solo work. This shows in their songs “Boys” and “Bad Dream Baby.”
“I think it brought a deeper sense of honesty,” Luppen said. “I think when we first started the band, we were reluctant to write about personal experiences mostly because we were 19 and we didn’t have a lot of personal experiences. So I think as tour went on, as time went on…we had this bank of experiences we wanted to present to the world. As an artist, I feel like I could be more honest now and be more myself, which feels great.”
Hippo Campus shared that fans can expect lassos, boots, giddy ups and spurs for “Wasteland.”
Brown sat down with Impact 89FM’s Mason Vore, Mike Merucci and Matt Anikiej prior to the concert.
For Brown, a Detroit-born rapper who was described by MTV as “one of rap’s most unique figures in recent memory,” this was a homecoming of sorts. He was back in Michigan, which initially shaped him and his music, and his ties with the state and the city of Detroit are unbreakable.
“It’s just been practice here for so long,” Brown said. “It’s almost like [Detroit’s] a testing ground for you to make it in the rest of the world. If you can be dope in Detroit and blow up in Detroit, then you can definitely make it anywhere.”
Brown has long been known as a hip-hop innovator. His vocal range, which allows him to rap in his iconic high-pitched yowls on one verse and in low, rumbling waves on the next, has set him wildly apart from many of modern hip-hop’s beloved figures. Not only do his vocals set him apart: His unorthodox beat selection and ability to rap over these seemingly untamable instrumentals have cemented him as a champion of alternative hip-hop.
Hear our exclusive interview with Danny Brown ahead of his performance at the Breslin Center:
Brown’s 2011 mixtape, “XXX,” is where he initially came into global renown. The tape received widespread critical acclaim and found its place on multiple year-end top ten lists. The success of “XXX” then led into the 2013 EDM/trap rollercoaster “Old” and the 2016 album “Atrocity Exhibition,” which managed to further the experimentation displayed on “XXX.” “Atrocity Exhibition” received even wider acclaim, having been cited for its otherworldly production and harrowing storytelling. It also featured guest appearances from major forces in the hip-hop world, like Kendrick Lamar and Earl Sweatshirt.
With his follow-up to “Atrocity Exhibition,” 2019’s “uknowhatimsayin¿,” Brown found himself in brighter territory. From a dark past came a promising future, and a soundscape to reflect that tonal switch-up. The album featured appearances from Run The Jewels, Q-Tip and JPEGMAFIA, among others. As with his previous works, Brown received widespread acclaim for the project.
On the heels of his 2023 collaborative album with JPEGMAFIA, “SCARING THE HOES,” Brown is furthering his mythos in the outer rings of hip-hop. When speaking with the Impact, he said the album is “All over the place.” Sitting with a soil texture triangle before him and laughing, he equated the title track’s texture to clay soil and said that “a song like Fentanyl Tester might be all over the board.”
For Brown, at the heart of “SCARING THE HOES” and its experimentation was the desire to enjoy the music-making experience. “The intention just was to have fun,” he said. “Being in the music business sometimes can become stressful. You can lose sight of why you’re even doing it in the first place.”
In the end, it’s all about Brown loving what he does, and that applies to much more than rapping. He has his own podcast, he’s streamed countless hours on Twitch, he’s performed stand-up comedy, he’s hosted a poetry workshop and he hopes to write and publish books in the coming years. Being one of the most versatile artists in hip-hop today, it only makes sense for him to be as versatile away from the mic.
Last month, I took it upon myself to become acquainted with the catalog of the legendary Atlanta rapper Future. As an avid hip-hop listener, I was already acquainted with a number of his albums and even more of his feature appearances and singles. In fact, one of the very first songs that started me on the path to becoming a hip-hop fan was “Codeine Crazy” off his landmark mixtape, Monster. But, beyond my brief obsession with the song and my using it as a jumping-off point to a number of different hip-hop subgenres, I left Future and the trap genre largely untouched to delve into other areas.
To make a long and uninteresting story short, after a couple of years and a few chance run-ins with more of Future’s work, I decided to fully commit myself to listening to his whole discography, or at least what was on streaming services. It happened in the waning days of Jan. 2023: I was idling in my office at Impact 89FM, as I usually do, and then it struck me. Future February. I have always been one for alliteration, so this random thought was perhaps triggered by my listening to “Relationship” by Young Thug featuring Future, which caused the idea to become stuck in my mind.
Within minutes, this thought had blossomed into a master plan. This master plan took the form of a spreadsheet containing Future’s albums and space to leave my thoughts and ratings. It was through this spreadsheet that I would plan and launch my voyage through Future’s 22 full-length projects on streaming. I would listen to an album — or mixtape, if you want to split hairs — a day until I had heard everything, leaving six days at the end of the month for reflection.
This fateful February changed my perception of the hip-hop landscape and opened my eyes to Future’s mythological journey of a career. I was joined by my good friend, Taylor Truszkowski, and we have decided to share our experiences with a pair of articles, this being one of them. Without further ado, let’s embark on this rollercoaster of a trap odyssey.
We should start with the release of Future’s 2014 album Honest. At this point in his career, Future had released a slew of successful mixtapes and was finally settling into his sound as a pop-rapper. This was reflected in both the feature list and lyrical content of Honest. Future is joined by a star-studded cast of guests like Pharrell, Kanye West, Drake and Andre 3000 as he speaks on his rise through the ranks of the industry. There are a lot of melodic and pop-friendly earworms across the tracklist, which are certainly not indicative of Future’s current sound, but a pivotal moment in Future’s life swept Honest’s core sound aside after the album’s release.
Future and his former fiancée, Ciara, a successful musician in her own right, had split up amid rumors of Future’s infidelity. Future, not one to take breaks between albums, took the anguish springing from his shattered heart and immediately hopped into the studio, channeling his emotions into one of his most defining projects: The 2014 mixtape Monster.
Monster is the product of a damaged man. Future’s delivery and subject matter invoke a drug-fueled safari that has taken a dark turn downriver. The tape opens with a warbled groan resembling an ancient monastic chant as Future languishes in his radical lifestyle. On the song “Throw Away,” he addresses the Ciara breakup. Following a series of verses in which he claims the women he sleeps with are worth nothing to him, a beat switch kicks in, and, in an ironic twist, Future laments that he himself feels worthless. In his eyes, he was discarded by Ciara after he made the “minor” mistake of being unfaithful.
After a remarkable run of ruthless trap bangers, Future closes out the tracklist with one of his most emotional songs, “Codeine Crazy.” This harrowing track finds Future staring into a mirror amidst what I imagine to be a codeine-fueled bender, admitting that he is a drug addict. This confirms what had been hinted at over the course of the project: that Future has fallen into a hazy trench of drug abuse and debauchery, as if his trajectory toward becoming a pop-rap star had never existed to begin with.
Future’s path seemed uncertain after this. Monster was extraordinarily well received, but the question lingered: What next? Future had an answer. Tripling down on Monster’s sound and subject matter, he released three legendary projects that honed the Future formula we know today. The mixtapes Beast Mode and 56 Nights led into what many consider to be the definitive trap album of the generation: DS2. DS2 is the culmination of the dark, drugged-up sound he had been cultivating since Monster. Every song on the album features an incredible beat, and Future raps over each one like the rent is due. He flows over the stellar production like a man possessed; every word feels like it may conclude his final coherent thought before he lapses into a complete breakdown.
On “Groupies,” Future adopts a guttural growl that never fails to wrench my attention into a savage chokehold, even dozens of re-listens later. Here, in 2015, we find Future at the top of the trap genre, a quick pivot from his status hardly over a year ago as pop-rap’s next golden child.
This switch up is reflected in his follow-up to DS2, What A Time To Be Alive. This collaborative project with Drake is in stark contrast to previous Drake/Future collaborations, like the song “Never Satisfied” off Honest. On “Never Satisfied,” Future had been trying to fit in Drake’s mold, crooning over an instrumental more suited for Drake than himself. On What A Time To Be Alive, Drake finds himself firmly in Future and Metro Boomin’s 808-laden domain. That is not to say Drake sounds uncomfortable, he still delivers, but it is clear that Future is leading the charge with his newfound clout as a next generation trap pioneer.
Further solidifying his trailblazer status with the releases of Purple Reign and EVOL, Future positioned himself to make an unusual career gamble. In 2017, Future released the self-titled FUTURE and followed it up less than a month later with HNDRXX. This is perhaps the most defining duology of Future’s discography. Both projects are 17 songs long and feature few guest artists beyond the bonus tracks. For many others in the trap genre this sort of output in such a short time would lead to oversaturation, but Future was able to vastly differentiate the two projects, as he dove into the two core personas he’s held since the start of his career.
FUTURE finds our titular rapper recounting what feels like an origin story, as he primarily focuses on his early days in Atlanta and his various escapades dealing drugs and collecting the money that comes with it. He paints us a vivid picture of a musty kitchen-turned-drug-lab on songs like “Scrape,” “When I Was Broke” and the fantastic closing track, “Feds Did a Sweep.” “Feds Did a Sweep” sounds like the end of an era, an outro to not only the album, but to this stage of Future’s life as well. Lyrically, the track takes us through Future’s thoughts as federal law enforcement bust his drug operation, taking many of his friends and associates into custody. Sonically, the song’s vibe is more laid back than what came before it, more in vein with the follow-up album, HNDRXX, making it the perfect segue into the stylistic switch up of its successor.
Future is out of the drug game on HNDRXX, and we find ourselves fast forwarded to him in the current day, surrounded by fame and excess. But, as many artists at the top have expressed, he lacks something deeper. HNDRXX is Future at his most vulnerable. We see a resurgence of melody within his music, but it is not reminiscent of the pop-rap approach seen on Honest. Here, Future is pouring his soul out to the listener in whichever form it comes, whether it be singing, rapping or a blend of the two.
He closes the album with “Sorry,” perhaps his most potent and transparent outro since “Codeine Crazy.” “Sorry” is an apology clearly addressed to his former fiancée, Ciara. He admits his faults and expresses that he is “sorry it’s gotta be this way” as he makes an attempt to extend the olive branch. Ciara and Future’s breakup was rocky, to say the least, as it involved defamation lawsuits and custody battles. After all, it is what triggered the drastic shift in Future’s career trajectory in the first place. The impact is even more evident when you consider that Future made a remix of Ciara’s song also titled “Sorry” in the early days of his career. It forms a full circle, and you would think this may have brought some peace to Future’s tormented soul.
Think again, as Future’s next full-length album, Future Hndrxx Presents: The WIZRD, finds Future in perhaps the deepest pit of his career. The WIZRD sounds like an active war zone in which all the combatants are under the influence of promethazine. It’s as if DS2 took FUTURE and HNDRXX then brewed up a devilish mixture embodying a twisted amalgamation of all three. There are minimal features once again: 18 of the 20 tracks are solo performances from Future. He relays his breakneck lifestyle as a whirlwind of drug-addled confusion, engaging in hedonistic activity and violent acts that are sure to make any man of the cloth shudder at their mere mention. He is clearly aware that he is not in the right state of mind, and he seems like he wants to escape from his self-imposed cycle of substance abuse, a cycle which leads to violence and excess. On the track “Tricks on Me,” Future can no longer distinguish between reality and his own hallucinations. He is adrift in a tumultuous codeine sea, at the mercy of its ever-raging monsoons.
Future leaves us in suspense as to where he is going next, ending the album on a cliffhanger. He wants out, and he begins to claw his way out of the pit on perhaps the most unique entry in his catalog: SAVE ME. Its closest analog is perhaps HNDRXX, but even that comparison does not adequately capture the pocket that Future places himself in here. “Xanax Damage” finds Future crooning about the consequences of his actions in a manner that somehow manages to be simultaneously unsettling and soothing. Over the course of this EP it is made clear that Future, by the grace of some higher power or perhaps his own sheer will, has started his climb out of the depths of his mind, handhold by handhold. The EP closes with “Love Thy Enemies,” where Future addresses some of his previous conflicts with exes while also sprinkling in a healthy amount of biblical allusions, implying that he has perhaps found solace in religion.
Regardless of how he found it, Future carries the self improvement momentum through his next album: High Off Life. As the title suggests, this album finds Future less reliant on drugs than he ever has been before, though he is certainly not clean. Rather than engaging in senseless excess, he is now enjoying the experiences that come with a lavish lifestyle surrounded by friends and protégés. He is joined by many of his previous frequent collaborators to celebrate their bonds, chemistry and good fortunes.
Young Thug and Lil Uzi Vert, two artists massively influenced by Future, have memorable guest appearances and remind us why each has their own full-length collaborative project with him. Future reunites with Drake once again for “Life Is Good,” a self-explanatory anthem encapsulating both his current state of mind and the tone of the album. On “Accepting My Flaws,” he admits that he could have better habits, but, rather than trying to cope with his imperfection in unhealthy ways, he instead embraces it. It finally feels as though Future has settled into a happy rhythm for the first time since he released Honest.
As both a fan and someone who had been listening to his discography chronologically for the entirety of February, High Off Life is a fitting resolution to the turmoil that Future has experienced over his massively iconic and influential career. That is not to say his music beyond that is not worthwhile: It certainly is. It is just that these projects are more like the epilogue to the poetic conclusion of an epic journey rather than a continuation. But who knows, Future is showing no signs of stopping when it comes to making music. Perhaps there are more twists and turns to be had.
Engaging in Future February was a musical experience that I will not soon forget, and maybe Truszkowski and I’s sharing of our experiences will inspire some to take the plunge into Future’s expansive discography next February. Perhaps some will take the plunge even sooner: It’s semantics, after all.
To read Truszkowski’s Future February article, click here.
This February, in an attempt to bond with my friend and co-worker Sam Kurtzman, I took on the task of listening to a Future album nearly every single day of the month. So, taking 22 days out of the month to listen to 22 albums, I dedicated my listening time to analyzing and growing my appreciation for Future’s discography.
When Kurtzman first proposed the task I was a little intimidated. I knew I lacked the knowledge and passion he had for Future and hip-hop music in general. For me, Future was good party music, and I was totally unaware of his massive discography. When Kurtzman added me to his comically pristine spreadsheet for tracking our progress, perhaps I should have been more intimidated, but my excitement only grew. I was willing to step into a box where I listen to primarily one artist and hang out with primarily one person. It was a Future-themed musical quarantine, but much more fun.
Throughout the month, I learned to follow Future’s albums like chapters of a story. As a lifelong bookworm, storytelling has always been one of my favorite aspects of music. But music doesn’t only tell stories about the artist. It also helps us discover new layers to those who love that music, opening our eyes to something in a friend we might’ve overlooked. As I got to know Future, I got to know Kurtzman. And, ultimately, the most important lesson I learned from Future February was how music can bring us together to build a friendship.
But, before we get too sappy, let’s dive into what I, a Future novice, thought of his albums.
We started off the month out of chronological order, with Honest. It was a strong start and the album immediately hooked me. The apprehension I had first felt about this project disappeared, and I was looking ahead at the month with a new motivation to know Future, as well as my hip-hop head friend.
Going into my listening journey, I kept in mind that nearly every artist plays a character. Sometimes this character changes or seems to disappear. Sometimes it’s “Mask Off” and the “real” person appears, but it’s all a part of the story. It is difficult to tell where the true Future appears throughout his albums, but Kurtzman and I agree that Honest is where the narrative begins.
Honest is a misleading first chapter into who this Future character is. As with his earlier releases, Astronaut Status and Pluto 3D, it has more of a pop-rap sound. It explores themes that are common in popular rap music — drugs, money and luxury — in a lighthearted delivery that keeps it easy to swallow. But Future did not make himself a legend by staying easy to swallow.
Rage is not easy to swallow, and Future communicates its hot explosion on Monster. This next chapter in the narrative has a pretty self-explanatory title and is the debut of a darker Future. He is deeply hurt, and rage is the only way he knows how to cope, adding a new dependency on the vices he raps about.
The contrasting feelings of hot anger and dull numbness emerge on Monster. This fulfills the prophecy of so many men who are brought up on the notion that feelings must be either buried or channeled into anger. A man’s struggle with how to manage his ugliest emotions is the story that plays out as this character reappears and disappears throughout his discography. As a woman, this is a story I am always watching from an outsider’s perspective, whether it’s happening in the music or right before my eyes.
This persona is solidified on what is widely regarded as Future’s best album, DS2. This is the album that told the world he is a trap superstar. It tells tales of violence and power, showing a Future that has slipped into his dark side and carried it with him to the top. In other words, he’s the man. He’s the man other men envy because his pain is not buried, but bubbling at the surface. It is something to be feared and respected.
This narrative continues throughout his next release, Purple Reign, which expresses a more mournful outlook on this lifestyle with a heavy focus on substance abuse. The harder outlook, with a bit more of that initial numbness we saw in Monster, comes back in EVOL. At this point in the story, Future is exploring the idea that he may be truly “Wicked,” and perhaps he does not care if he is. Throwing away the care for hurt caused and felt is a freeing thing, once again making him the envy of men longing to do the same.
The insertion of the self-titled album Future is a purposeful statement that we are now seeing the “real” Future. This message is solidified by one of his greatest hits, “Mask Off.” But has the mask really come off? Is the true Future a trap king, or is this just another character?
In stark contrast, the next chapter of Future’s story features a bit more remorse for his actions and sorrow for the pain he has endured. HNDRXX has more of an R&B sound that fits this toned-down mood. Tracks like “Damage” and “Use Me” reflect this shift in outlook on his lifestyle.
The collaborative album Future & Juice WRLD Present… WRLD ON DRUGS dives deeper into the darkness of substance dependency. It is only fitting that Future worked with Juice WRLD, who rose to fame by cultivating a dark, emo persona with a thematic focus on drug abuse. It is an excellent pairing of artists who are sharing this chapter in their stories.
This reflective streak continues into his next release, Future Hndrxx Presents: The WIZRD. It begins with “Never Stop,” a track that reflects on Future’s lifestyle in a way that is both triumphant and mournful. It sets the mood for this next chapter in his story, which still focuses heavily on the topics of trap life, drug abuse and violence. In this first track, Future directly references the story that unfolds through his music, saying:
“You gotta tell The WIZRD, it’s a story like a book.”
I found this line to be satisfying because it acknowledges that Future is attempting to author his own story. Whether this is a reference to the entire discography leading up to this point or just this specific album, I don’t know, but it confirmed the perspective I was building.
His next album is definitely the darkest point in his story, which is even reflected in its grungy cover art. SAVE ME, a literal cry for help, explores the emotions and drug addiction that are beginning to consume Future. The first track, “XanaX Damage,” portrays realities of drug dependency that make it hard to believe he is simply playing a character. This continues onto the next track, “St. Lucia,” whose first lyric is the album’s desperate plea: “Save me.” The message that, at this point in his story, Future is losing the battle with himself continues throughout the album.
Just when we think Future’s hit the bottom, he tells us he’s at his highest point. His 2020 album, High Off Life, still features many references to drug use, but makes the point that Future is still the master of his own story. While the drugs are present, it is life itself that is truly intoxicating. This triumphant message is made clear by track titles such as “Touch The Sky” and “Life is Good.”
This life-is-sweet narrative continues throughout his next album with Lil Uzi Vert, Pluto x Baby Pluto. By the time we reach his most recent album, I NEVER LIKED YOU, it seems as if he has fully come into himself again, or at least into that signature Future persona we met on the self-titled album. Perhaps this signifies healing, or as healed as Future can be in his industry. At least for now, he is once again the master of his story.
For me, Future’s story is one that is timeless: a man wrestling with himself. Whether or not his discography consists of characters and glamorization, it is a story that is told well.
Through every step of this journey, Kurtzman was there to help me decipher the codes Future uses to write this story. Every hour I spent with Future was essentially an hour spent with Kurtzman, as we soaked up each other’s perspectives while also having a ton of fun. Learning his tastes and patterns was like peeking into the private journal of a friend who I always thought was quite different from me and discovering endless similarities to connect us.
I have completed Future February and can now give this advice: When it comes to music, don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. Stalk your friends’ playlists on Spotify. Check out their favorite artists. You might just learn something about them, and about yourself.
For more insight into Future’s journey, check out Kurtzman’s article.
This week in music history, a celebrated soul singer became a legend. “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay” by Otis Redding became the first posthumous No. 1 hit. The song was recorded shortly before Redding died in a plane crash on Dec. 10, 1967. Redding was traveling to a concert in Madison, Wisconsin, when the private plane went down in a small lake three miles shy of the runway. A month later, co-writer Steve Cropper released the single, which was technically unfinished. It topped the Billboard charts in March and stayed there for four weeks.
“Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay” is about finding peace in times of despair. Redding’s soulful voice brought me comfort when I felt bogged down with preparations for the future last summer. Surely, it’s comforted millions of people over the last 56 years. “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay” has left a legacy greater than Redding could’ve ever imagined.
~Gabby Nelson
Today, all Little Monsters are in the holiday spirit. On March 28, 1986, Lady Gaga was born. Ever since her debut in the mid-2000s, the singer and actress has been a nonstop success. Born in New York, Lady Gaga slowly found success performing throughout New York City and perfecting her performances. According to Biography.com, she got her name from the Queen song “Radio Ga-Ga.”
Her first hit was the party anthem “Just Dance,” which reached No. 1 on Billboard in January 2009. Following was the album The Fame and the even more acclaimed The Fame Monster, which includes some of my personal favorites of hers, “Bad Romance,” “Alejandro” and “Telephone.”
Lady Gaga’s success is not limited to recording phenomenal music. She has won a Golden Globe for her appearance in American Horror Story, performed at the Super Bowl, had a residency in Las Vegas, and was nominated for multiple Academy Awards for the movie A Star is Born, winning one for Best Original Song.
In recent times, she has released numerous new albums, as well as starred in another movie, House of Gucci. A few weeks ago, she attended the Oscars again and performed her song from the new Top Gun movie, “Hold My Hand.” People Magazine noted how she performed in a $7 plain T-shirt, showing off the duality of the glamorous pop superstar.
Lady Gaga turns 37 this week, and I can’t wait to see what other accolades will be added to her spectacular career in the next year.
~Madison Reinhold
This week in music history, singer, songwriter and producer Jack Antonoff turns 39. On March 31, 1984, the Bleachers frontman was born, and his many contributions to the sound of modern pop music are celebrated.
Other than his work as the lead singer in Bleachers, Antonoff is known for his role as guitarist and drummer in pop group Fun., lead singer in indie rock band Steel Train, and his many albums with songwriting and producer credits.
During his time writing, he has received eight Grammy awards, including Producer of the Year in 2022 and 2023, and produced and wrote for artists like Taylor Swift, Lorde, Lana Del Rey, St. Vincent, Florence and the Machine and more.
His mark on the music industry has been made, and pop music has Jack Antonoff to thank, in part, for evolving the sound of today’s top hits.
~Arden Vanover
While “Entry of the Gladiators” blasts in our faces on this day, at least you haven’t the unfortunate trouble of having to pronounce Björk’s name in the proper Icelandic form to her face. Speaking of Björk, did you know that in 2009, she offered her skills to Led Zeppelin?
The legend of the eclectic Icelandic singer began in 1986 when she became the frontwoman of the Sugarcubes. The year after the band disbanded, she began her illustrious solo career. But where does Led Zeppelin come into the picture?
In 2009, Led Zeppelin held a one-off concert at London’s O2 Arena, where 20 million people were vying for 20,000 tickets. The success of the concert prompted the band to be on board with a reunion tour. All except for the lead singer Robert Plant. Plant was overwhelmed by the reunion, and didn’t want to relive the memories, no matter how much money was offered. Plant turned down $800 million to go on the tour. That is when Björk offered her services. Sadly, it was nothing more than a fun little April Fools Day prank. Sadly, we probably will never see Björk leading a band again, but that doesn’t mean that anything won’t happen just yet.
~Ashe Burr
Rio de Janeiro’s Carnival may be the largest Carnival festival in terms of notoriety, but there’s another group of Carnivals out there: the Caribbean Carnivals. One facet of the Caribbean Carnival scene is the output of songs that are meant to play during Carnival. Most of these songs are from the subsect of music known as soca. But what exactly is soca?
Soca was first developed in Trinidad and Tobago in the early 1970s by Garfield “Lord Shorty” Blackman in an attempt to revitalize the calypso genre, which was losing popularity among the younger generation. The name soca came about as a misspelling. Lord Shorty initially spelled the style as “sokah,” which stood for the “Soul of Calypso,” with the “kah” being from the Sanskrit alphabet. He specifically used the Sanskrit spelling to honor the East Indian rhythms that were used in his first works, such as his 1973 release “Indrani.”
As soca began to take hold across Trinidad and Tobago, the style began to permeate Carnival competitions across the island. In 1978, Linda McCartha Monica “Calypso Rose” Sandy-Lewis was fresh off her win of the Trinidad and Tobago Road March competition, being the first woman to win the competition. Her entry in that year’s Road March competition marked the first time a soca song won the Road March competition. Not only that, but in 1978, Calypso Rose also became the first woman to win the Calypso King competition.
As soca was beginning to establish firm roots in Trinidad and Tobago in the 1980s, other musical styles began to form in the Caribbean. The two most notable of these are zouk and bouyon. These styles will be brought up again later. Soca in the 1980s still had a very heavy emphasis on calypsonian elements and had yet to establish much of an independent identity. The Trinidadian Road March champion songs of the time, like Edwin “Crazy” Ayoung’s 1985 winner, “Soucouyant,” showcase that aspect of the style.
In 1997, after gaining fame as a vocalist over the previous 11 years, Machel Montano — as frontman of the band Xtalix — won the Trinidadian Road March competition with his song “Big Truck.” His victory came at the ripe age of 22, making him the youngest winner of the Road March competition at the time.
In 1993, a new competition for Carnival was announced: the International Soca Monarch competition. The competition was split into two segments: International Soca Monarch for “power soca,” which includes songs above 135 bpm, and Groovy Soca Monarch for “groovy soca,” which includes songs under 134 bpm. With soca being a Trinidadian creation, it’s no surprise that Trinidadian artists dominated the competitions.
It would take until 2007 for an artist not from Trinidad and Tobago to win. Carlton “Biggie Irie” Cordel would go on to win the Groovy Soca Monarch competition. Around this time, soca began to separate itself from calypso. Biggie Irie’s winning song, “Nah Going Home,” shows this. Calypso still typically uses traditional instruments like steel pan drums and brass instruments as the backbone of the style, while soca typically embraces new instrumentation, such as the synthesized melody in the chorus of “Nah Going Home.”
As soca began to separate itself from calypso, multiple islands began to develop their own take on the style. Dominican artists blended bouyon with soca to make bouyon soca. St. Lucian artists melded kuduro, zouk, soca and Lucian drumming to make Dennery segment. Grenadian artists made their own variation to fit the Jab Jab festivities of their Carnival, which they also christened as Jab Jab. Every island in the Caribbean has their own Carnival festivities, and, while soca isn’t a mandatory participant, you would be hard-pressed to find a modern Caribbean Carnival where soca isn’t present.
The first major hit by a soca artist came in 2007, when London-born Bajan artiste Alison Hinds’ song “Roll It Gal” managed to break into the UK Singles Chart, albeit only at 135th. This came around two years after the song was initially released in Barbados. The song gained more notoriety after a reworked version of the song was released by J-Status in 2007. The J-Status version also featured a pair of Bajan artists in the infancy of their careers: Rihanna and Shontelle. The J-Status rework was released only a month before Rihanna’s smash hit “Umbrella” was released to critical acclaim.
Following her hits like “Super Bass,” “Fly” and “Starships,” Trinidadian native Nicki Minaj released “Pound the Alarm” as the fourth single from her album Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded. The song’s music video was shot during the 2012 Trinidad Carnival, and, in the video, Minaj shares the stage with soca stars Montano and Bunji Garlin. Garlin would have his big break at the end of the next year, with his song “Differentology” being a big hit in both the soca and EDM worlds. The song landed Garlin a contract with RCA Records and the song was remixed by Major Lazer before the group’s big break later that year.
In 2017, Kes released a song for the 2017 Carnival season called “Workout,” which featured a then-unknown singer named Nailah Blackman. Nailah Blackman, who is the granddaughter of Lord Shorty, was launched into the upper levels of the soca stratosphere off the back of the song. In the six years since the song was released, she has become one of the most prominent artists within the genre. She’s collaborated with a wide variety of artists, including Shenseea, Konshens, Oxlade and a member of the Kosoko Royal Family of Nigeria in Adekunle Gold. Nailah Blackman has been pushing soca in ways it hasn’t been pushed yet, and I’m sure she’ll continue elevating soca to levels that have yet to be achieved.
The 2019 Carnival season marked a cultural shift in terms of the artists that were seeing success in the power soca competitions. Shertz “Problem Child” James, a soca artist from St. Vincent and the Grenadines, released two songs, “Good Up Good Up” and “Nasty Up,” and both became hits for Carnival, but neither managed to win any awards. Problem Child’s fellow countryman, Gamal “Skinny Fabulous” Doyle, released “Famalay” with Garlin and Montano for the same Carnival season. Skinny Fabulous won the Trinidad Road March title, becoming the first foreign soca artiste to win the prestigious title.
After Biggie Irie won the Groovy Soca Monarch title in 2007, it would take 12 more years for the International Soca Monarch title to leave Trinidad and Tobago. Hollice “Mr. Killa” Mapp, a Grenadian artist, released the song “Run Wid It” for the 2019 Carnival season. The song, which featured on a Jab-Jab-influenced riddim — which is an instrumental shared by a number of soca and reggae artists, then often released as a compilation; one example being the Osaka Riddim from 2019, which Preedy, 5Star Akil, Kerwin DuBois, Charly Black, LFS Music and Voice used to create tracks for the 2019 soca season — that launched him into the forefront of the season’s playlists. The song became so popular that the Port of Spain Police Department issued a warning against taking the lyrics literally. This warning seemed to be a stamp of approval, as Mr. Killa became the first non-Trinibagonian to win the International Soca Monarch title.
The International Soca Monarch competitions took a hiatus during the COVID-19 pandemic, and, sadly, the competition will not be returning for the 2023 season. However, the Road March competition for the 2023 season was one of the most competitive seasons yet. Several soca legends came together for the Road March competitions, including Patrice Robert, Problem Child and Superblue with “Pieces;” Superblue and Lyrikal with “Jouvert Madness;” Nailah Blackman and Skinny Fabulous with “Come Home;” Voice and Alison Hinds with “The Return” and Voice plus Lil Natty and Thunda of Wuss Ways with “My Stage Now.” In the end, Bunji Garlin took the crown with “Hard Fete,” receiving his second Road March crown.
Although the 2023 Caribbean Carnival season has mostly passed, there are still Carnivals that have yet to occur. To help us prepare for the Carnivals that will be coming in April, I have attached a soca starter kit to this article. Carnival may only come once a year, but soca is a year-round event. Although it may be snowing in March here in Michigan, that doesn’t mean we can’t let soca take us to a place of warmth and sun.
The city of Detroit has historically been a cultural hub exploding with music, art and fashion rivaled by few cities across the world. Not only did it host Motown, but legends like The Stooges, MC5, Death, The Gories, Negative Approach, Laughing Hyenas and The White Stripes have all emerged from the streets of Detroit.
Blasting out of the basement and tearing off the roof of some of your favorite Detroit venues, like the Outer Limits Lounge and the UFO Factory, the Stools and Toeheads are not to be taken lightly. The young punk trios are a newer component to Detroit’s vile stench of hip-shaking, foot-stomping rock ‘n’ roll and are ready to explode.
The Stools and Toeheads released their split LP, Watch It Die, on Oct. 7, 2022, and haven’t looked back since. The Stools have played a slew of live shows, including a performance with Easy Action at the Outer Limits Lounge on New Year’s Eve, and Toeheads released another record, A Cruel Winner’s World, on Dec. 16. Released through Drunken Sailor Records, Watch It Die is a split LP featuring the fuzzy and abrasive garage-punk sound of two of the most prominent up-and-coming bands in the Detroit music scene.
Composed of guitarist-vocalist Will Lorenz, bassist-vocalist Krystian Quint and drummer Charles Stahl, The Stools take a garage rock sound all too familiar to Detroit and make it distinctly their own. With a sound that smashes through your speakers like a freight train on a never-ending track, The Stools bring an energy unlike any other that can only be truly experienced at one of their high octane live shows.
The Stools, along with Joey Hanania of Toeheads, also play in a band called PHARMA. Stahl also runs his own record label, Painters Tapes. The Stools have gigged across the United States and played opening slots for acts such as Jack White, Raconteurs, The Gories, Surfbort and Reigning Sound. They’ve also held festival spots at Levitation in Austin, Texas and Muddy Roots in Tennessee.
This album opens with “Dead Man’s Ford” by The Stools and almost instantaneously you can feel that tingle traveling down your spine and into your feet, making you tap right to that beat. This is some real lo-fi garage rock to get you out of your seat.
“Dead Man’s Ford is like five years old /
It rusts like a tea kettle on the lawn /
Wind tears foreheads off the billboards.”
A town with faceless billboards and an automobile left to rot by its deceased owner creates the perfect setting for the lawlessness soon to follow. The phrase “Dead Man’s Ford” is repeated with a robust vigor throughout the song, properly introducing you to The Stools and setting you up for the rest of the ride that is Watch It Die. Also, you can’t help but to wonder if the Dead Man’s Ford is the car on the album cover — I’d like to think that it is.
Next up on the tracklist is “Fascist Cupid.” In Roman mythology, Cupid is the god of desire and affection tasked with the role of shooting people with arrows infused with the power of love. You have to exhibit at least some degree of fascism in order to control how people fall in love. However, The Stools are not angered at this despotic deity and instead sympathize with him:
“I grieve for you /
You fascist Cupid /
Playing the pan flute.”
You can’t help but to feel bad for the god of desire, as he is subject to an eternity of making others fall in love, but will never truly experience those feelings himself.
My personal favorite track of the album, and one of my most listened to songs as of late, is “Strong Street Stranglehold.”
“The black gloved watchman /
He jumps you like a smokeshow /
In the blue rain dust bowl /
Your frostbite grave awaits /
Strong Street Stranglehold in my brain.”
Borrowing part of the song title from Motor City rocker Ted Nugent’s track “Stranglehold,” this song truly grabs you by the neck and doesn’t let go. I don’t have the slightest clue as to what a Strong Street is or why it is in their brain, but this song is a perfect blues garage rock tune to showcase just what The Stools are made of.
At the beginning of the song “Can’t Feel Good” off The Stools’ live recorded album Live at Outer Limits, an unnamed individual — presumably an employee of the Outer Limits Lounge — states, “As an old dude, I’ve got a lot of people who come up to me and say rock ‘n’ roll’s dead, and I’m like, ‘Do you know The Stools?’”
“Evil” is just one of the many tracks that showcase how The Stools are keeping rock ‘n’ roll alive:
“Dance across my back like it’s broken glass /
Don’t tell me when you’re leaving next /
Way down low where the needles go /
Breaking my neck on a pin prick thumb rest /
You’re evil /
You’re under my skin.”
Rounding out the The Stools side of the LP is “Harsh Green River.” Continuing the formidable speed and tight musicianship of The Stools, “Harsh Green River” reminds listeners of the many polluted aquatic bodies in and surrounding the city of Detroit.
Toeheads are composed of bassist Hanania, guitarist/vocalist Jake Aho and drummer Derek Burbank. Toeheads are an angst-filled trio bringing you filthy garage punk rock ‘n’ roll in the finest Detroit fashion. Characterized by anxiety-inducing beats and lots of screaming and jerky rhythms, with a lo-fi garage rock undertone at the same time, Toeheads will charm you before punching you in the mouth. Toeheads represent the garage-punk genre in the vein of their forefathers, like Jay Reatard and Ty Segall, bestowing upon listeners monstrous anthems like “Told You Twice” and “Skubble.” Toeheads exhibit a sense of lawlessness that can only truly be experienced when attending one of their raucous live performances.
Toeheads begin their side of the LP with “Wanna Be Alone.” When you are constantly surrounded by people and always moving, sometimes you just want to slow down and be alone. This song tells of that longing feeling:
“Well I just want to be alone /
Want to sit here all by myself /
If you ever think of callin’
Spend that dime on somethin’ else.”
The next song on the tracklist is “Haista Vittu.” I apologize to any Finnish readers who may be offended by the title of this song.
“Haista vittu /
Rich villain die /
Buy a block and let it rot /
While people live inside /
I hope they kill you /
You and your kids /
Got no love for you /
They never did.”
With a theme that reminds me of Dead Kennedys’ “Let’s Lynch the Landlord,” “Haista Vittu” exposes some of the evils that landlords — specifically slumlords — are notorious for. Many landlords will purchase properties and then charge exorbitant rates to tenants without ensuring that these properties are adequate living spaces, thus violating the rights of their tenants. Landlords have no care, though: You’d better make sure to pay your rent on time or else you’ll be out on the streets. In the song, the beggars and workers rise up to kill the landlords and bury them in shallow graves. “Haista Vittu” showcases a response to landlords abusing their power in classic punk rock fashion.
Toeheads do their best early Oblivians impersonation on “Painkiller.” With a formula that’s guaranteed to get the people grooving, “Painkiller” is a classic garage rock tune describing the dependance of painkillers for relieving past trauma:
“I went to the doctor /
So he could fix the hole /
The hole, the hole /
In my heart.”
Water is one of the basic necessities to human life, and without water we will all perish. “Water War” recognizes this and describes how one day wars will be fought over water and that people will need to battle just to quench their thirst:
“In the end we’ll be too dry for tears /
So watch it die, let it go /
Our thirst will be all we know.”
The final track from Watch it Die, “I Wanna Be in Your Life (So I’ll Die)” teaches us that Toeheads are not a one-trick pony. This song is a tale of life after death. A highly expressive croon beaming with emotion, this song highlights the mortal struggle of human existence and the grave reality that all people must die, along with the emptiness that ensues following the loss of a loved one. It is an absolutely devastating album-ender which highlights Aho’s vocal range.
“I want to be in your life /
So I’ll die so I’ll die.”
Harsh, fast and unforgiving, but beautiful all at once, this album serves to encapsulate the spirit of Detroit in music form. The Stools and Toeheads are both masters of their craft and I wouldn’t be surprised if either of these bands ends up becoming the next great thing to come out of Detroit.
It has been nearly a half-year since the release of Alvvays’ latest album, Blue Rev, and I have absolutely no clue what my favorite track from the record is. First it was “Easy On Your Own,” complete with its towering vocals and anthemic attitude. Then it was “Pomeranian Spinster” and the dizzying glee of its guitars spinning the listener around a teacup ride at a carnival of personal crisis. “Bored in Bristol,” “Tile by Tile” and “Belinda Says:” all of them had me just as captivated.
Oh, how could I almost forget the period where “Tom Verlaine”’ crashed into my consciousness with that dang 10-second span from the 2 minute 32 second mark to the 2 minute 42 second mark? They’re just not playing fair.
Impact’s music director, Mason Vore, had the fantastic opportunity to sit down and talk with Molly Rankin of Alvvays. The band is in the midst of a large North American/European tour and is at the tail end of an equally massive press tour, so these questions focused on unique details about the band and Blue Rev likely not covered in some other interviews done in this press cycle.
For example: their collaboration with Stardew Valley creator ConcernedApe for the “Many Mirrors” music video, their non-music-related influences and even some thoughts around Rankin’s interest in fantasy basketball and the Toronto Raptors.
Give Blue Rev and this interview a listen!
Adapted from the comic book series of the same name, The Crow is a tale of tragedy in both real life and cinema. The Crow centers on a dark angel who rises from the dead to seek vengeance on a gang of thugs who murdered him and his fiancée the night before their wedding. Lead actor Brandon Lee, slain by a prop gun during production, haunts every frame of his final film.
The Crow flutters stylishly through a nighttime world of rain-drenched backstreets, towering rooftops and shadowy club rooms. The camera darts from ledge to ledge like a winged creature. When it’s time for fighting, the songs punch loud, boisterous holes in the soundtrack, and when the story turns mournful — which is often — Graeme Revell’s electronic, dirge-like score drapes the story in a postmodern veil.
The film opens with a crow gliding across the night sky, bringing the viewer in for a slow landing over a bleak urban landscape blighted by fires on Devil’s Night, which is Halloween Eve. The film’s narrator, Sarah, informs us that “people once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead, but sometimes something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can’t rest, and sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring the soul back to put the wrong things right.”
Shelly Webster, played by Sofia Shinas, and Eric Draven, played by Lee, were set to be married on Halloween night. However, Draven and Webster had been protesting unethical practices by their landlord, and, as a result, crime boss Top Dollar, played by Michael Wincott, ordered his thugs to intimidate the soon-to-be-married couple. Draven is then brutally murdered by the bunch of drooling hooligans who then rape and mortally injure his bride-to-be.
Exactly one year following his death, Draven rises from the grave to exact his revenge upon the four homicidal profanities who destroyed his life. He returns to the scene of the murder amidst a montage of painful memories of the dreaded night, and he covers his face in makeup which, as one character fittingly states, makes Draven look like “a mime from hell.”
Draven was an up-and-coming rockstar — part of the fictional band Hangman’s Joke — and his songwriting ability is shown throughout the film as he delivers a handful of dialogues with poetic qualities which force the viewer to reason about the power of love and the tragedy of losing a loved one. Guided by the mythical crow like a harbinger of death, the immortal, undead Draven exacts his vengeance one-by-one on the individuals responsible for he and his fiancée’s murder.
As Draven works his way up to the bass-voiced ringleader, Top Dollar, he establishes sympathetic links with the detective, played by Ernie Hudson, who is assigned to the original massacre, and the film’s narrator, Sarah, played by Rochelle Davis. Draven and Webster used to take care of Sarah while her mother was working.
When Lee is on-screen, rage, guilt, madness and stoic expressiveness transform his character into a truly disturbing figure who can kill only with the black and white makeup on his face. The film creates one of the most imaginatively rendered, impressively sustained artificial worlds seen on film, and the action is riveting.
Although it’s largely overshadowed by Lee’s death, The Crow is one of the best comic book adaptations that I have ever seen.
The film prematurely claimed the life of Lee, son of martial arts master Bruce Lee. He did not have a very distinguished career up until this role, but this role would have made him a performer to reckon with, and would have most likely propelled his career to new heights.
Lee’s co-star, Michael Massee, fired a prop gun at him during filming on March 30, 1993, in Wilmington, North Carolina. Although the revolver was loaded with blanks, the gunpowder in the blank cartridge ignited, leading Massee to unknowingly fire a bullet fragment at Lee, who later died in surgery. While Massee did not face any criminal charges, Lee’s mother did successfully sue the filmmakers for an undisclosed amount.
The events of Lee’s death have recently reemerged in the news because actor Alec Baldwin fired a live round from a Colt .45 pistol on the set of the film Rust, which resulted in the death of cinematographer Halyna Hutchins in 2021. The scene in which Lee was accidentally shot is not in the film, but the fact of his death cannot help but provide a melancholy subtext to everything he does on screen, especially Draven’s poetic speeches about death and revenge. The irony of Lee dying and playing a character that rises from the dead does not go unnoticed. Plagued with issues from the beginning, the crew of The Crow watched as sets burned down, stuntmen got injured and a hurricane struck. This was all before the prop gun accident that claimed Lee’s life.
There are also eerie parallels between the lives of Lee and Draven. Draven was an up-and-coming rockstar who was brutally murdered by a gang of street thugs the night before he was set to marry his fiancée. In real life, up-and-coming actor Lee, who hoped this would be his breakthrough role, was set to marry his fiancée, Eliza Hutton, within days of the film’s completion.
First-time director Alex Proyas approached The Crow with a neo-noir aesthetic and technical artistry that gives the film a glossy sheen which matches the wet asphalt in nearly every scene. Proyas portrays a cynical, decadent world submerged in darkness and violence: a world of people who have lost any trace of morality, where the police are synonymous with incompetence and the perpetual rain striking the moistened streets covers the stains of blood shed by the innocent.
Proyas and his technical team have created a world that will remind you of the urban wasteland in Blade Runner and of the gothic extravagances of Batman. His visual style, captured mostly by the camerawork of Dariusz Wolski, is quite absorbing when displayed as a gothic panorama of the city. The camera swoops high above the city or dips low for extreme-angled shots.
Video production designer Alex McDowell devised a staggering look for the bombed-out cityscape. The tale is set in an inner city so hellish it makes Gotham City look like Sesame Street. Characters cast fearsome shadows and buildings are exaggerated in their architectural details. The Crow, with its fast pace and countless camera setups, evokes settings portrayed in comic books with much more accuracy than other comic book adaptations. It also reflects a more realistic nature through its villains and settings; the viewer is so deeply immersed into the story, it’s almost as if they could imagine themselves right alongside Draven. Although the story follows a generally linear narrative line with no subplots, twists or turns, the technical artistry and set design keeps the viewer hooked for the entire ride that is The Crow.
The masterfully crafted soundtrack follows you through every dark alley Draven trudges through. It is interwoven into the film, making it much more than normal filler between dialogue. The Crow is Proyas’ first work on a major film; he had previously directed rock music videos, and, with his use of music in this film, his experience is exceedingly apparent.
This is a film that depends upon the energy, both creative and violent, of the soundtrack. The Cure wrote the song “Burn” for the movie. James O’Barr, creator of the comic book The Crow, was a fan of The Cure. In fact, he dedicated a full page in his book to reprinting the lyrics of their song “The Hanging Garden.” When the film was in production, O’Barr asked The Cure if “The Hanging Garden” could be used in the film. Frontman Robert Smith was a fan of The Crow and wrote the song “Burn” for the film instead.
“The end is all that’s ever true /
There’s nothin’ you can ever say /
Nothin’ you can ever do /
Still every night I burn /
Every night I scream your name.”
The Cure’s “Burn” is a beautiful, melodic, almost hypnotic track because of its guitar and synthesizer work. A pounding bassline, tribal drums, atmospheric synths, cleanly picked guitar lines and, of course, calls of the crow are highlighted on “Burn.” The track is dark, extremely brooding and perfect for the film. At about seven minutes long, “Burn” is a slow-burner that clearly serves to immerse, both for the song itself and for the rest of the soundtrack.
Similar in style to “Burn” is the next track in the soundtrack, “Golgotha Tenement Blues” by Machines of Loving Grace. “Golgotha Tenement Blues” is a heavier, distortion-wracked — but still slow paced — industrial song from Machines of Loving Grace. With its hopeless lyrics, slithering bassline and unsettling synths, one cannot help but imagine Draven hunting down his enemies through the eternally rainy, gang-torn streets of The Crow.
Probably the best-known song off the soundtrack is Stone Temple Pilots’ “Big Empty.” Although it is a standard grunge tune, it doesn’t necessarily match the intensity of much of the rest of the soundtrack. Following it is Nine Inch Nails’ cover of Joy Division’s “Dead Souls.” Trent Reznor’s voice takes hold of your spirit as he desperately chants “calling me” until the track ends, taking you away into the darkness. Next up on the soundtrack, Rage Against The Machine brings “Darkness” to the table, and while it still features unique Tom Morello guitar play and classic scatting and rap from Zach de la Rocha, it intersperses some calmer moments with spoken word, cleanly picked guitar and a chill bassline that makes it fit with the soundtrack’s overall tone.
Next, Violent Femmes bring a bluesy, club-like sound to the table with “Color Me Once,” complete with a slinky guitar riff, shaking vocal delivery and a smooth bass line. This track literally bleeds of anguish and allows you to get inside the mind of Draven. Next up on the track list is Rollins Band’s “Ghostrider.” One of the more popular songs from one of Henry Rollins’ post-Black Flag endeavors, “Ghostrider” is a stoner/sludge rock song with Rollins sounding almost like a deeper, stilted Jim Morrison.
The riff-heavy alt-metal number “Milktoast” by alt-metal pioneers Helmet comes up next, working to contribute to the overall atmosphere. Hardcore fans will enjoy the addition of Pantera’s “The Badge” on the film’s soundtrack. For Love Not Lisa adds the pulsating, thrashing beat of “Slip Slide Melting” complete with a punk, boxy guitar riff and loose vocals. My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult contributes the punk-and-thrash-influenced industrial track “After The Flash,” characterized by voiceovers and strange lyrics which transport you into a dark, industrial club. Medicine’s lead, Annette Zilinskas, offers a much more soothing song in “Time Baby III” after the stormy ride of the other tracks.
In the film, you hear a snippet of a recording from Draven’s band’s song “It Can’t Rain All The Time”’ with what sounds like Lee on vocals. In the film, Draven tells Sarah that “It can’t rain all the time” to comfort her and let her know that things won’t always be bad. Jane Siberry delivers the anthemic “It Can’t Rain All the Time,” which works well as a closing track and as an ode to Lee.
This soundtrack will disappoint neither fans of the movie nor fans of music in general. The soundtrack is vitally important, as it works to establish the mood of The Crow, and listening to the soundtrack works to transport the listener right back to the dark underworld of the film.
The Crow soars high. At first rumored to be impossible to complete due to the tragic accidental death of Lee eight days before lensing was due to wrap, the film that finally emerged is a seamless, pulsating, dazzling visual revenge fantasy that stands as one of the most effectively adapted films ever derived from a comic strip. The soundtrack only makes this immortal and symbolic farewell even more unforgettable, and it stands on its own as one of the best soundtracks ever crafted for a film.
Today is a Tuesday and all the flowers are dead. The sun is shining abnormally bright for late February, seemingly mocking the children of Michigan State University who yearn for the healing warmth of a spring day. Today’s sunshine brings out the hope those children have for the end of academic stressors, for the end of term, for better days.
But we’re young: These are supposed to be the better days. These are supposed to be the days where, despite any alleged good sense we might have, we’re supposed to be wearing shorts to spite the cold sun. Then why aren’t they? Why don’t these feel like those days? Why do those days feel far away and behind us? Because today is a Tuesday and all the flowers are dead.
I’ve found myself endlessly fascinated by Citizen’s decision to title this album Youth. Here is a collection of songs so heartbroken, lonely and frustrated that they should reek of old age and regret. Instead, the pained mutterings of despair on Youth betray the very essence of what it feels like to be young.
To be young is to have the days move by too fast, to only be able to focus on your mistakes and to feel like everything and everyone is so very far away. Youth is to feel everything deeply, including — maybe even especially — the worst of it. For example, maybe it’s a sunny, almost-spring day, but all you can focus on is that it’s cold, a Tuesday and that all the flowers are dead.
The cold rays of a warm sun are reminiscent of the propellant first 10 seconds of “Roam The Room,” which dupe the listener with expectations of upbeat jams, but that momentum is soon shed in favor of a half-time groove that lulls us into the song, and thus, the album. When the up-tempo beat returns for the chorus, we welcome its familiarity but are somewhat perplexed. The jockeying between speeds on the opening track establishes a tension that will last for the rest of the album, like the tension between sun and cold.
On a project overflowing with chilly slow jams, we eagerly anticipate our next sunny acceleration, which doesn’t come until “Drawn Out,” the closing track. Thanks to “Roam The Room,” we end up expecting a certain velocity that we don’t receive until the end, which keeps us wanting just a little bit more, just as moody twenty-somethings wish for just a little more heat on brightly frigid days.
At the exact midpoint of the album, the gentle strums of “The Night I Drove Alone” greet tired ears that are already emotionally exhausted from the first five tracks. Unfortunately, the track offers no respite for the weary, containing within its gently meandering tones one of the most heartbreaking lyrics ever penned:
“And you talk like someone else.”
This encapsulates the entire album; these six words are Youth. This line is the heartbreak of losing a young lover to the sea of 7 billion; it is coming home to greet childhood friends who you no longer recognize; it is looking in the mirror and realizing you’re growing up. This line contains all of the infinite tragedies that come with youth: every gain and loss, along with every growth and regression. This line conjures a sadness in me that nothing else does. There is such high despair in the delivery — such defeat — that you can’t help but let it hold your hand as you relive the alienation of realizing you no longer know someone you love.
One of the many — and most important — intangible qualities of Youth is a feeling of drifting. Forces beyond your control lightly bat you to and fro, leaving you to float down hallways where every door is a memory. Some doors are locked, some slightly ajar and some wide open, beckoning you to come back to when things were simpler. But when rose-colored glasses are dropped, simple is the furthest word from your mind.
It’s so easy to remember your youth as a peaceful and pleasant affair, but that’s not what it felt like in the moment. With every misstep your world was at risk of crumbling down around you. Every day was a high-wire act with no safety harness. And, despite the sun, it was always just a little too cold.
Today is a Tuesday and all the flowers are dead.
An ode to what we lost before we even knew we had it, 10 years later, Citizen’s Youth stands as one of the most heartbreakingly sincere and honest contributions to music this century.
Do you think that’s too high of praise? Grow up.
Dermot Kennedy has gone from small town Irish boy busking on the streets of Dublin to globally-known artist with 13 million Spotify monthly listeners, and he plans to play a show at Madison Square Garden on June 14. His latest album, Sonder, is only advancing his stardom.
Sonder stays true to Kennedy’s acoustic folk sound but also leaves room for pop-infused tracks.
Dermot Kennedy started developing his unique sound when he was 17 years old, busking and performing at open mic nights at pubs. In 2019, he earned recognition in the United States with his single “Outnumbered,” which peaked at number 8 on Billboard’s Hot Rock & Alternative weekly chart. The song was included in his first album, Without Fear, which was released Oct. 4, 2019.
Sonder was released Nov. 18, 2022, three years after Kennedy’s U.S. debut. The premise behind the album is based on the noun “sonder,” which is “the realization that each passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.”
On his website, Kennedy invites people to share their stories, which answer questions like “What’s something about a loved one you wished you cherished more?” In the spirit of sonder, these stories are connecting his fans who span across the globe.
Kennedy explained this project best in a video message on his website, saying, “I think with this we’ll be able to see how we’re all more alike rather than different, and that we’re all in different parts of the world just doing the best we can and making our way through life the best we can.”
Authenticity is important for Kennedy. His music comes from his lived experiences, and they all hold deep meanings. Yet, at the same time, he hesitates to share what each song means to him because he wants to give his listeners room to interpret the songs for themselves. In this way, Sonder invites us to be empathetic by embracing our own unique feelings and experiences.
Kennedy also managed to stay true to his roots. With Sonder, he’s made a point to acknowledge where his journey started.
Starting prior to Sonder’s release, Kennedy has been performing “Sonder Street Sessions.” Going back to where his career started, playing the same Taylor Big Baby guitar he received when he was 10 years old, Kennedy has been busking in cities around the world, including Mexico City, Hamburg, Chicago and Toronto.
He explained at one of the sessions that these performances are no less important to him than sold-out shows in high-profile venues. The intimate change of pace grounds his music and lets him connect with his fans. It keeps him and his team humble, acknowledging where they came from and how far they’ve come.
View this post on InstagramA post shared by Dermot Kennedy (@dermotkennedy)
All this to say, Kennedy is still the singer-songwriter we know and love, if not a little more confident in his style and process. He’s still writing lyrics that give me goosebumps, like these lines from my favorite song off Sonder, “Innocence and Sadness.”
“Darling, don’t spend another second wondering what you’re worth /
Don’t you ever get affected by the ways of this world /
Wouldn’t say my soul’s protected, but there’s something at work /
I was waiting on ya, know I was waiting on ya.”
Kennedy’s unique rasp and vibrato punches you in the heart with a collision of love and loss. These songs will make you feel something. We’re all on a journey, trying to find ourselves. Sonder speaks to that and embraces it.
“I don’t know what you’re feeling /
Sorrow is a season /
Everything that hurts will pass /
Something to believe in /
I know this isn’t easy /
I promise you the hurt won’t last.”
The last of the national media have detached themselves from Michigan State University and moved on to the next place: a place which will feel similar emotions, similar embraces, similar silences to those that we feel and have felt. Then that place will be moved on from for the next and the next and the next.
In these past two weeks, we’ve navigated the silence, the rage, the fear through our own constructed soundscapes. We’ve been up until well after midnight listening to songs that hold us close and describe our feelings in a way we might never be able to. In the midst of reporters’ questions and our campus’ barrier-like silence, we needed a soundscape under our control.
These songs belong to us. As does every hug we’ve given and received, every word we’ve spoken and written, every stand we’ve taken to say that we are strong, we are angry, we are together. These were our songs for then, and these are our songs for now. Together, we are Spartan strong.
Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and love is in the air. What better to get into the spirit of the holiday than some romantic music? We here at the Impact curated the best pop love songs of our collective teenage years. Take a look at each writer’s defense for why their song is the best of the best:
“Latch” by Disclosure feat. Sam Smith — Madison ReinholdI think the music video for “Latch” really encapsulates why it is such a great love song. It shows couples being so devoted together and being in the moment. What I also love is how it shows multiple definitions of love and couples of different sexualities together. This, for the time and in such a mainstream track, provided a new window for young people tuning in. Other than that, it has a great overall sound and conveys the message of someone truly and devotedly in love.
“She Looks So Perfect” by 5 Seconds of Summer — Paige Drob“She Looks So Perfect” is an anthem of infatuation, teen restlessness and underwear. It is a track that says so little, but so much at the same time. The song is a testament to the intensity of the feelings between narrator and subject. Although some may say the lovers are too young for their relationship to amount to anything, the lovers feel that their relationship is beautiful and something worth working for. To the narrator, there is nothing more perfect than the sight — and maybe a little more than just the sight if you catch my drift — of his love interest. He is so infatuated that he gets her name tattooed on him, and he proposes the idea of running away and getting married. To me, the most iconic line is the one that is the most confusing: “If you don’t swim, you’ll drown, so don’t move honey.” To this day, I am not one hundred percent sure what it means — Lyric Genius doesn’t, either — but I think “drowning” in this case might be comparable to the action of falling in love. “She Looks So Perfect,” at its most complex, is a commentary on the intricacies of young love, and, at its most simple, is a banger of a song to scream and dance to alone in your room.
“Run Away With Me” by Carly Rae Jepsen — Mike MerucciThere is no hyperbole in my writing of this: I think ”Run Away With Me” is the greatest pop song of all time. This is one of the few songs that I know every word to: That’s saying something, as I have an atrocious memory when it comes to song lyrics. Anyone who knows me knows that I can really belt it out when it comes to “Run Away With Me,” though. I can imagine it now: springtime, windows down, warmth running across my skin and the greatest pop song of all time blasting a little too loud. Until then, all I ask is that it wins our little Valentine’s Day bracket here.
“You Snuck Your Way Right Into My Heart” by Love Händel (from Phineas and Ferb) — Dana HoltPlaying a parody on ‘80s love songs, this song has a vibe that is unmatched. The guitar is immaculate and the lyrics are pure perfection. It beautifully captures the way love can unexpectedly enter your life. As the song says: “Like a ninja of love rappelling down from above,” this song snuck its way right into my heart.
“Mine” by Taylor Swift — Gabby NelsonFor all the Swifties, it’s hard to pick the best love song of the 2010s, but “Mine” is surely one of the best. “Mine” is the love anthem of Gen Z. It’s a song that you can’t help but sing out loud. Swift sings about a love that overcomes hardship, a love that is deep and unconditional.
“Braced myself for the goodbye /
‘Cause that’s all I’ve ever known /
Then you took me by surprise /
You said, ‘I’ll never leave you alone.’”
It’s a type of love we’re all searching for.
“Imagine” by Ariana Grande — Norene Bassin“Imagine” tells the story of one of the 2010s’ most beloved celebrity couples: Ariana Grande and the late Mac Miller. I’m not too sure about the public perception of their relationship, but from the music these two wrote about each other, anyone can plainly see they were in love. True love. Grande released this song less than a year after Miller’s tragic passing. The lyrics of this song talk about what could’ve been and what, frankly, should’ve been.
“Imagine a world like that /
We go like up ’til I’m ‘sleep on your chest /
Love how my face fits so good in your neck /
Why can’t you imagine a world like that?”
The imagery in her lyrics is beautiful and tells a story of a true love she still dreams of. While she is happily married now, her and Miller’s love is immortalized in “Imagine.”
“We Found Love” by Rihanna feat. Calvin Harris — Ashe BurrThis song had an absolute chokehold on radio airplay when it dropped, and it still holds up as one of the best songs of the 2010s, despite it being from 2011. The track has become a staple track for Rihanna, and it helped give Calvin Harris something resembling a career in the United States. When this song comes on, it never fails to put me in a good mood with its optimistic yet relatable lyrics. “We Found Love” was Rihanna’s 11th No. 1 hit in the United States, and if it isn’t part of her set at the Superbowl, I will have legitimate beef.
“Baby” by Justin Bieber feat. Ludacris — Gabby Nelson“Baby” was the song that launched Justin Bieber’s career. It has everything: a catchy chorus, angelic vocals and a dope rap verse by none other than Ludacris. “Baby” took off when it was first released (partially due to Bieber’s charm). It’s about the innocence and life-ending feeling of first love. It will forever live in the memory of every Gen Zer.
Have strong feelings about these songs? Be sure to vote for your favorites every day starting Feb. 10 until Feb. 14 in our Valentine’s Day song bracket battle on Twitter @WDBM.
Unfortunately for some of us, Valentine’s Day is around the corner. What better to wallow in sadness than with some songs about heartbreak? So, we’ve curated a list of the best pop breakup songs of our the 2010s. Take a look at each writer’s defense for why their song is the best of them all:
“Marvin’s Room” by Drake — Logan Juncaj“Marvin’s Room” is the ultimate sad boy anthem. This track from Drake’s sophomore release, Take Care, finds the Canadian rapper drunk dialing an ex-girlfriend he still cares for who has found another man. “I’m just saying you could do better / Tell me, have you heard that lately?” Is just one of the many memorable lines off of “Marvin’s Room.” Smooth in its croon but woozy in its motivation, the chorus hangs in the air both lustily and unashamed. If you never listened to “Marvin’s Room” following a middle school breakup, were you even alive in the 2010s? Its timelessness and continued popularity is a testament to “Marvin’s Room” as one of the greatest heartbreak songs of our generation.
“Miss Missing You” by Fall Out Boy — Norene BassinThe lyrics to “Miss Missing You” are so artful and the instrumentals are beautiful. Pete Wentz has struck gold again with his classic emo writing. The twinkling synth intro sets the stage for a ballad of longing and loss. “Baby, you were my picket fence” and “Sometimes the person you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger” are some of the most vividly painful lyrics I heard from this era of music. Their monumental comeback to the scene after their 2008 hiatus created some of the best heart-wrenching music of our time.
“Somebody That I Used To Know” by Gotye feat. Kimbra — Madison ReinholdThis song dominated the music scene in 2012 for a reason. Both perspectives of the song are so gut-wrenching and it really makes a great breakup song, no matter whose side you’re on. She cut him off? She had her friends collect his records and change her number? BUT— she doesn’t want to live that way, reading into every word he says? Maybe it’s a work in perspective. The man was trapped in a relationship that made him miserable and he is devastated but reluctantly optimistic about this new phase in his life. However, the girl just got out of a relationship where she was constantly being gaslit and blamed for everything. It’s definitely a work in perspective. Additionally, the xylophone goes crazy.
“Nights” by Frank Ocean — Aaron Jonckheere“Nights” by Frank Ocean is the best heartbreak song of the 2010s because it captures the emotions felt after a bittersweet breakup perfectly. The first part of the song highlights the initial hurt of a breakup in Ocean listing the flaws of his ex like how they “Can’t keep up a conversation” and how they can’t commit time to their partner: “Round your city, round the clock / Everybody needs you.”
Ocean also shows the often contradictory feelings during this phase with the line “Shut the fuck up, I don’t want your conversation,” meaning he was the one shutting down the communication and had mixed up the facts to spare his feelings. In the second part of the song, the tone changes to the nostalgic part of a breakup where he reminisces of their life together, before he had money, where they were with him through all of their hardships together. This tactical tone shift along with Ocean’s masterful lyricism truly captures the essence of heartbreak by showing how often moving on is not a linear process.
“Drunk II” by Mannequin Pussy — Kyle DavidsonIn October of 2022, Mannequin Pussy’s Marisa Dabice took to TikTok to proclaim “I’m tired of pretending that I didn’t write one of the best break up songs in history.” Although this statement might sound like pure heresy to some, fans of the Philadelphia-based punk outfit know Dabice’s post is simply acknowledging the facts. “Drunk II” is an embodiment of all the sloppy, ugly moments that follow a nasty breakup. The track’s opening verse perfectly embodies every failed attempt to bury your feelings under alcohol and parties. The sheer amount of catharsis present as Dabice proclaims “I still love you, you stupid fuck,” is already enough to place this song among the greatest break up tracks of all time. From its boisterous intro to its softer, swirling outro this song embodies the difficulties that come from trying to forget an ex, and acknowledges that, sometimes, staying strong is exhausting.
“Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus — Madison ReinholdAside from being great lyrically, I think the biggest thing is the cultural impact of the song. This was her first big project outside of Disney and she needed to make a splash. She did, obviously. But what makes this an amazing break up song isn’t just the stirring of the pot and the frightening of elders. In fact, it actually makes me forget how beautiful the song is. That doesn’t mean I don’t like the spectacle; it takes spectacle to remove one from the image of the Mouse. This wasn’t just a visual maturity for Miley, this showed emotional and lyrical maturity as well. The pain in her voice is noticeable. It should be the best break up song because it is a rare occasion that a song can provide such a spectacle and a heart-wrenching performance.
“The One That Got Away” by Katy Perry — Maggie HeflinThe best way to relive your first heartbreak is with this Katy Perry classic. Perry was the it girl in 2010. Her hit album Teenage Dream is only the second album in history to have five No. 1 singles on the Billboard top charts. “The One That Got Away” was a standout from that album. The simple piano arpeggios leading into a gorgeous orchestral section contrast her pop hits off the rest of the album. Perry’s lyrics paint a beautiful story of teenage love and loss. In the chorus Perry begs for things to be different, highlighting the naiveté and innocence of teen romance, drawing the listeners back into their loves of the past.
“Don’t Hurt Yourself” by Beyoncé feat. Jack White — Ryan McMillanOn “Don’t Hurt Yourself,” Beyoncé shows heartbreak and anger through a genre we rarely hear from her — rock. Arguably the centerpiece of her already-classic 2016 album Lemonade, she alludes to Jay-Z’s cheating rumors, eventually reaching a climax where she is yelling out and questioning who he is to treat her this way. The most memorable moment comes right at the end, as she threatens that he will “lose [his] wife” if he ever wrongs her again. Few artists would dare to cross genres in such a bold and honest way, but Beyoncé is not just any artist. It is heartbreaking, empowering and all around perfect — something to scream along to no matter your relationship status.
Have strong feelings about these songs? Be sure to vote for your favorites every day starting Feb. 10 until Feb. 14 in our Valentine’s Day song bracket battle on Twitter @WDBM.
Sara Tea is a multi-genre, multi-faceted artist who has lived all over the United States, but her heart resides in Michigan. Peering through the cracks of her newest EP, Songs for Discarded Souls, is that inimitable Midwestern spirit: the stuff of long winters, endless highways and glowing rust.
We are nothing if not our experiences. We are nothing if not our memories. We are nothing if not always healing and learning. Sara Tea knows this more than most could ever understand. Mike Merucci, host of The Afterglow at WDBM, was lucky enough to have conversed with her about Songs for Discarded Souls, inclusivity in music, the magic of libraries, the Midwest’s complicated beauty and much more.
“I wonder who they are /
Those who really run this land /
And I wonder why they run it /
With such a thoughtless hand.”
On Jan. 20, we lost a pillar in the psychedelic rock and folk community. David Crosby, singer for The Byrds and Founder of Crosby, Stills, Nash &Young has passed away. With the Byrds, he set the standard for the sound of the psychedelic ‘60s. After recording on their first five albums, he was fired in 1967 after making politically charged remarks on stage at Monterey Pop Festival in northern California. He followed that with his new band, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, where he took that attitude into the ‘70s and defined the sound of popular rock and folk to this day. Along the way, he became famous for a flamboyant and outrageous lifestyle which in turn led to differences among members of the band. These differences created tension between David Crosby and his band members, especially between him and Graham Nash, who had been estranged from Crosby since as recently as 2016. Nash said “…what has always mattered to David and me more than anything was the pure joy of the music we created together, the sound we discovered with one another, and the deep friendship we shared over all these many long years” on his social media following news of Crosby’s passing.
In 1968, David Crosby, Stephen Stills and Graham Nash put on a show together, and upon discovering how well they harmonized with each other, they decided to form the group known as Crosby, Stills & Nash. Neil Young joined later, offering even stronger musical arrangements and broader popular appeal. Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young saw the group turn into pop stars and sent them into a realm where their interpersonal relationships were just as important as the hits they were making. David Crosby was at the center of a movement within the West Coast rock scene collaborating with Joni Mitchel, Greg Rolie, The Grateful Dead and many other prominent names in the scene. During this time, he forged new paths in music and was recognized by fans and peers for his skillful songwriting, vocal harmonies and infectious melodies that have never left the heads of a generation. Through the years, however, the rockstar lifestyle took its toll on the bandmates’ friendships, commercial success and ultimately, on his physical wellbeing. He lived a tumultuous life, filled with sudden changes. On his debut album outside of the band, If Only I Could Remember My Name, he explores instrumental acoustic soundscapes, and jam-inspired blues songs that form a very clear picture of what was going on in Crosby’s life at that time. The second track, “Cowboy Movie,” tells a detailed story about a group of cowboys who find who they think to be “an Indian girl, all alone.” Crosby says he doesn’t trust her, but he is outnumbered and they “take her back to the cabin.” In the chaos that ensues, we get a glimpse at how David Crosby viewed the world around him. The song serves as a window into the volatile relationships that served as both the inspiration and downfall of his recording career. The rock star lifestyle did end up taking its toll though, and Crosby suffered from heart and liver troubles since the ‘90s.
David Crosby will be forever remembered by his large circle of friends, and even larger circle of fans across the world, for leaving his lasting legacy in the fantastic world of music.
“Auld Lang Syne” has been sung a few too many times. The oversized objects have fallen slowly to the ground. The confetti has been swept off of the asphalt of a major city. And New Year’s resolutions have been created, whether they will last or not. Apparently, the French made a resolution to wage a media war against the United States for the crime of Emily in Paris having three seasons at the time of this article’s writing, which is arguably five too many. What could the French even release to remotely contend with that travesty? That answer would have to be Illumination Studios’ perennial curse on the world with yet another installment of the adventures of the banana Tic Tacs. Minions: The Rise of Gru firmly cemented the Minions as the second worst thing to ever come out of France, after a legacy of colonialism that has created a butterfly effect which continues to affect their former colonies to this day. Did they need to release this? Absolutely not. Sing 2, the film that the studio released last year, earned nearly $409 million worldwide. So, why did they unveil this abomination over this past summer? In the words of Mr. Krabs in the 2004 Spongebob Squarepants movie, “money.”
Steve Carrell reprises his role as an 11-year-old Gru in this prequel film, which follows the little manlet as he tries to fill a spot on his favorite villainous team, the Vicious 6, after their leader “died.” Of course, being an 11-year-old in the year 1976, Gru has access to incredible technology like a rocket-powered tricycle to go to school in. This also includes being mailed a hologram-projecting cassette tape that he plays in his mother’s car — because that’s a smart economical decision for a group of villains — only to explode like a Tom and Jerry-esque skit.
Eventually we are introduced to the six members of the Vicious 6 in a montage scene with Brittney Howard of Alabama Shakes performing a cover of Earth, Wind & Fire’s song “Shining Star” alongside Verdine White, Earth, Wind & Fire’s bassist. All of the members of the Vicious 6 have names that should be tried at the Hague for crimes against human decency. You might be asking yourself, “Why should we use these names as the main reason to try these people for war crimes?” The answer should be quite obvious — they’re all goddamn puns. They aren’t even half-decent puns at that. Because it’s the mid-70s, one of the members of the Vicious 6 is named Belle Bottoms. And yes, she wears bell-bottoms. What else can you expect? Also on the team you have: Svengance, a Swedish hockey fanatic named Sven; Stronghold, a massive man reminiscent of Andre the Giant; Jean-Clawed, a French villain with a massive robotic lobster claw that has a mime’s clothing scheme and is voiced by Jean-Claude Van Damme; and perhaps most egregious of all, Nun-chuck, who is — get this — a nun with nunchucks. How incredibly original. There’s also the head of the team, Wild Knuckles, but he’s just a guy or something like that. I guess he’s like the Batman of this film, just with way less money. Also, their headquarters is in the basement of a record store. That doesn’t excuse the sins of their names, but it is something, I guess. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to play some Phoebe Bridgers to get myself to feel any kind of emotion besides immense pain at this.
Wait, why the hell is she in this film too? Diana Ross, Tame Impala, St. Vincent, Brockhampton, Kali Uchis, Caroline Polachek, Thundercat, Weyes Blood, Gary Clark Jr., H.E.R., Tierra Whack, Jackson Wang and G.E.M. too? Why are there all these A-list artists and/or sad girl hours playlist mainstays on this soundtrack? Is this a fever dream? And how did they get them all to make covers of hits from the ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘70s for this movie? Hearing Annie St. Vincent covering the Lipps Inc. smash hit “Funkytown” gave me a feeling of whiplash I haven’t experienced ever and hope to never experience again. This is the second film I’ve ever experienced that Funkytown shows up in to confuse the daylights out of me. But, I digress. Back to the film’s “plot” or whatever term you can come up with to describe this absolute travesty.
The six fly to an unnamed place in Asia to steal a stone that holds the powers of the zodiac. Knuckles — not the red echidna, I swear — steals the stone, but is dropped from the hovercraft by the other members of the organization that he started. Then, the title card rolls out. Now, I can finally talk about the fact that Mandopop superstar G.E.M. covered Cher for this film. Cher. Covered by G.E.M. What kind of wild crossover had to be brewed for this sentence to become reality? Caroline Polachek does a different cover of the same song for the ending credits but meh, who cares about that?
Gru steals the stone and gets kidnapped by Knuckles, who is somehow still alive despite literally falling thousands of feet into a lake in East Asia. Where does Knuckles take Gru to? The best city in California but only a C-tier city to the rest of the United States, San Francisco.
Before some of y’all come at me for this, let me explain: Los Angeles is a farce, San Diego is irrelevant without Carmen, San Jose is so irrelevant that I can’t even say anything about the city, Fresno doesn’t deserve to exist and the only good thing that Sacramento has done for the world in the past century was give us Death Grips. Huh, maybe Sacramento doesn’t deserve this slander. Meh. California as a whole needs to be humbled.
Back to Minions: The Rise of Gru. Before he gets kidnapped, Otto the minion trades the stone for a pet rock, prompting Gru to fire every single one of the minions. The minions were throwing a rave at the time this happened. In response, the minion who was DJing the rave changed the song to Phoebe Bridgers’ cover of the Carpenter’s 1972 hit, “Goodbye to Love” as the weather outside became a torrential downpour. As much as I’ll slander the film for being nothing more than a cash grab, the overt nihilism that this single scene contains makes this scene the best thing to happen to the series since the first film.
Speaking of nihilism in 1976, wanna know what ended the year prior that filled the globe with that same emotion? The Vietnam War. While the film doesn’t reference the atrocities that were being waged the year before, the sound design choices are nothing more than a ham-fisted attempt at showcasing the same emotions that were rampant throughout the years prior. I know you are probably thinking to yourself, “How did you get this out of a funny movie about minions, and why were you thinking of a war with more war crimes than Nick Cannon has children?” And I get it. I hear these questions loud and clear, like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god. The answer is simple — the overtones are just so prevalent. Not just from the crimes against humanity that are the names of the Vicious 6, but from the sonic crimes that the film put us through.
For starters, you have “Rich Minion,” the Gulf of Tonkin incident of the film. While only utilized in a single advertisement for the film, the fact that it was used in the Gentleminion TikTok trend, which I am going to largely blame for the complete and utter ruining of decorum at concerts and theaters, which has also been one of the reasons for the American leg of Steve Lacy’s “Give You the World” tour being as chaotic as it has been, and yes, it’s not just him smashing a phone in New Orleans. The Mỹ Lai of the film is the simple fact that there is this massive batch of A-list artists on the soundtrack, and yet the only original track on the soundtrack was given to Diana Ross, who has only released one album since 2006 — which honestly flopped for an artist with her name power — in collaboration with Tame Impala, who has been milking the success of The Slow Rush for the past three years or so. Why the hell couldn’t the sole original song of the soundtrack go to literally anyone else? If there is a god in this universe, they wouldn’t do this to me even to just get a laugh out of my suffering. For Christ’s sake, the Vicious 6 couldn’t find Wild Knuckles’ house, which is nothing more than a massive K on top of a hill in downtown San Fran-fucking-cisco. How oblivious do you have to be to let this slide? I should also note that Gru literally gets tied to a clock tower’s face, and is drawn and quartered on the clock face. But he doesn’t die. Instead, his limbs just extend like an Inspector Gadget reject. So this either proves that Gru is a god or that he could kill one, and I do not care if there is a difference. How else do you explain an 11-year-old having an entourage of puntable beings doing his bidding? This film has done nothing but broken my psyche, and I deserve financial compensation for my suffering. My computer refused to connect to any WiFi networks while I was starting this piece back in October of 2022. I spent over $200 to give you this knowledge. This isn’t even a joke: I suffered more than anyone else should for the sake of those piss nuggets. Thank Christ this is over.
Well, at least I can look forward to Illumination’s next film with war crimes, The Super Mario Bros. Movie, starring a crisp rat as the plumber-turned-war-criminal. And much like a weapon banned by the United Nations that was popularized by Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2, we can leave the Minions in the past, where they belong.
Wait, what do you mean Despicable Me 4 is currently slated for a release in 2024? Why can’t I go three years without having to see these little gremlins that I want to push down a flight of stairs like a slinky? Apparently Gru has cursed me for my hubris, and my work here is never done. I guess I’ll see you all in 2024 to see what new crimes against humanity are created for the next installment in the film series.
Harriette Pilbeam, known to many as Hatchie, has been one of the foremost voices in contemporary dream pop since the release of 2019’s Keepsake. In April of 2022, Pilbeam released Giving the World Away, a dream pop album which updated and reinterpreted tired ‘90s productions styles with a vigorous energy not seen since their initial heyday.
During Alex G’s tour for God Save The Animals, The Impact got a very special opportunity to interview Hatchie, alongside her husband and band-member Joe Agius. Between a trailer and a truck in a windy Detroit alleyway, Hatchie regaled about the music of her past, the effect of COVID-19 on her latest record and her musical process before the spectacular show.
Matt Cruz: What music did you listen to growing up? How has that shaped the Hatchie we know now?
Hatchie: I listened to lots of different music — I grew up in the ‘90s with older siblings who really influenced my music taste, whether it was as a kid listening to Britney Spears and Kiley Minogue, or when I was older, my brother introduced me to bands like Radiohead, the Raveonettes and more “indie” music that he probably found on places like Pitchfork, but I was too young to know what that was. It kind of depends. My parents listened to a lot of “old” music from the ‘70s and ‘80s like Billy Joel, Todd Rundgren, Carole King. Stuff like that taught me a lot about songwriting and harmonies.
Cruz: Besides your influence from ‘90s alt-dance group Saint Etienne, has there been any conscious influence from the UK baggy/Madchester scene? Stone Roses, Chapterhouse, Happy Mondays, Inspiral Carpets, 808 State?
Hatchie: Yeah, totally! Especially him [Joe]: Happy Mondays, Stone Roses, Primal Scream.
Agius: We love Chapterhouse.
Hatchie: Chapterhouse is especially a big influence, especially on the earlier stuff. I can’t think who else fits into that category that we were drawing inspiration from, but definitely.
Cruz: What about the shoegazing scene that was concurrent at the same time? What are your strongest influences?
Hatchie: Yeah! Especially on my earlier stuff, Cocteau Twins were a big influence and reference point, Slowdive and My Bloody Valentine and Lush. Most of those bands — I got into those bands a lot later than when most people do. A lot of people get into them when they’re teenagers but I didn’t really get into them until a bit later. I’m so into all of that.
Cruz: Are there any modern artists, either in the modern dream pop scene or elsewhere, that influence your music?
Hatchie: Probably. I can’t think of any immediately. This music came out in April, and we worked on it 18 months before that. I’d need to really think about who directly influenced anything. Joe, can you think of any modern artists?
Agius: Maybe Pains?
Hatchie: Yeah, I’m a big fan of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, but I don’t think they influenced this record.
Cruz: Giving the World Away stands as one of the most refreshing dream pop albums I’ve heard in the past few years: How was the genesis of Giving the World Away impacted by COVID?
Hatchie: Oh, completely! Joe and I started, we went over to LA together for a writing trip in February of 2020. On that trip we wrote “Twin,” “This Enchanted,” “Lights On” and “Sunday Song”. Then we went home to Australia thinking that we were going to come back and finish the record soon, but we got stuck in Australia, so we finished the record — just the two of us — and sent the files over to our producer, Jorge Elbrecht, who was living in Denver. He did all the drums, the production and other instrumentation in Denver along with the drummer from Beach House (James Barone). Joe and I did the rest of the writing and recording on our end in Brisbane, and it allowed us to spend way more time on it. In Australia, everyone got a subsidy during COVID, so we got to focus on it completely and treat it as a job, like a nine-to-five for five days a week. It meant we could really go deep. We weren’t doing it at a studio; we were doing it at home. For that reason it was really good, but it was really difficult to do it over email because of the time difference. Not being in person to show someone what you wanted something to be like could sometimes hold us back a bit, but there were pros and cons.
Cruz: Do you think the time difference and the communication gap brought on by COVID allowed Giving the World Away to blossom into a very different record than originally planned?
Hatchie: Yes! Definitely. I think we spent every hour that we wanted to on it. The only thing I wonder that could’ve been different is that if we had written the rest of the album with Jorge. We did “This Enchanted” and “Lights On” with him, and I wonder if the record would have sounded more like that, but we’ll never know.
Cruz: Why did you decide to explore and reinterpret these textures of shoegaze, dream pop and alternative dance?
Hatchie: I don’t know — it was just the music we were listening to at home. Being stuck at home during lockdown, we were listening to a lot of party music to make the days pass. That’s where the dance influence came. I thought it was going to be more of a lighthearted, fun album. Being locked inside made the album more introspective and more like a personal diary than I was expecting. I originally thought it was going to be more like “This Enchanted” — more “90’s-UK-baggy-dance,.” but then it kind of turned into a more personal and autobiographical work because we were at home.
Cruz: How do you think of sound when writing songs? What comes first and what do you think is most important? Do you find yourself playing melodies in your head? Or tapping to rhythms you think of? The atmosphere? How does a Hatchie song usually begin?
Hatchie: It’s different every time. With this album, I don’t think any songs started with lyrics; they started with melodies and rhythms. It depends on certain songs: Joe started writing them and I helped finish it. Others, it was vice versa. I think “Lights On” started with a drum rhythm, and “The Rhythm” started with a synth and a drum. It depends: If I’m the one who starts writing it, it’s usually a vocal melody and a chord progression, but it changes. I don’t have an answer for what’s “most important” — I think it changes and for everyone it’s completely subjective.
Cruz: In the wake of the record’s release, how has your approach to recording music or exploring dream pop textures changed?
Hatchie: Now I think I’m going to focus a lot more on starting with lyrics and going with a more simple approach. With this album, because we had so much time to work on it, we obsessed over the finer details and production. I’m glad that we did that because that was what we set out to produce — create a highly produced, energetic album that made sense to perform live on a big stage. We were craving to get back into playing live shows after lockdown. Now I think I just want to ease back into more simple songs that really rely on the songwriting rather than the production, but it’s very early days for the next stuff, so we’ll see!
When she died at the age of 81 on Christmas Day 2008, there was practically nothing that Eartha Kitt hadn’t done. While this series is called Matriarchs of Music, music only scratches the surface of her life.
While she was an accomplished recording artist, including the holiday classic “Santa Baby,” she was on Broadway and also appeared in movies and on television. From her early days in Harlem to her resurgence among young fans as conniving animated villain Yzma, Kitt spent decades in the cultural zeitgeist.
Born in South Carolina in 1927, Kitt did not know her exact birthday until later in life and never knew her father. According to The Guardian, when she found her birth certificate in her seventies, her father’s name was crossed out. Being mixed race in South Carolina gave her a troublesome childhood. Her white father was gone, and she and her Black and Cherokee mother faced many hardships. Her mother died when she was young, so she was sent to New York to be with relatives.
Having lived in Harlem for a few years, Kitt joined a dance troupe at the age of 16. She toured the world with Katherine Dunham, whose dance career focused on African American and Afro-Caribbean dance, according to her school’s website. Kitt toured for several years and then stayed in Paris to be a singer.
She moved to Broadway in the ‘50s. Around the same time, she started recording music and created one of the most popular Christmas songs ever made, “Santa Baby.”
“Santa Baby” was very unique for its time, to say the least. Christmas songs were for the Bing Crosbys and the Frank Sinatras, and they were for gathering around the radio and re-enacting a Norman Rockwell painting with your family. Many songs were religious, the secular ones were silly little tunes with jingle bell backing. “Santa Baby” is indeed very silly, it joined a growing collection of novelty Christmas songs that were popular at the time. What made it different was that… Santa was sexy?
The songwriter, Phil Springer, told the Los Angeles Times in 2017 that he does not know why people would want a song about a sexy, sugar daddy Santa. The song was written quickly and he thought it would not be a good addition to the rest of his songwriting catalog. Additionally, he wasn’t sure if Kitt — best known then as a sultry Broadway performer — would be the best vehicle to sell a song for a family-oriented holiday. Depending on the region, it wasn’t. It did give RCA one of its most successful years, but it was also banned in some parts of the United States, particularly the South.
Regardless, it has continued to be a timeless classic, both the original and covers remaining popular 69 years later. Outside of seasonal favorites, Kitt became a popular recording artist. Albums Down to Eartha and That Bad Eartha brought her success in the ‘50s.
In 1967, she entered a new medium. Despite only playing the character for five episodes, her portrayal of Batman villain Catwoman has become legendary. In a time with very few Black actors appearing on the nation’s television sets, TV Guide writes, Kitt’s character was a source of empowerment during the height of the Civil Rights era. She brought new life to the show; she gave the villain a complexity and a spunky, sharp-tongued sensual portrayal that audiences loved.
However, just a year later, it would all come crashing down. In January 1968, she was invited to the White House to discuss the issue of juvenile delinquency with President Johnson, the First Lady and some others. Kitt was suspicious and didn’t want to go, recounts the Washington Post. Of course she went, and realized that this meeting wasn’t going to cause any real change. She confronted LBJ and his wife Lady Bird directly, asking them why they weren’t doing anything to poverty and the juvenile delinquency this luncheon was supposed to be about. More consequently, she criticized the Vietnam War, vocalizing the concerns of many Americans; the war was immoral and had needlessly killed swaths of young men. She condemned the Commander in Chief for his actions, and in turn, her career in America screeched to a halt. All of her bookings and tours were immediately canceled and she could only find work in Europe. She also had a CIA file opened on her.
In a 1978 interview, a few years after having seen this dossier the government had opened on her, she says that the president personally called media outlets across the country and said he didn’t want to see her face. When interviewer, television host Dick Cavett, recalled how the dossier called her a “sadistic nymphomaniac” and “shallow,” she literally purred in response. She did the interview to promote her first appearances in America in a decade, Broadway musicals Timbuktu! and an all-Black production of Kismet.
Eartha Kitt had regained the public’s favor and was back and better than ever. She released a couple of live albums and began starring in an array of film and television projects, according to TCM. In 1984 she released the album I Love Men, which was a disco album. The album reached moderate success on the charts.
She was a philanthropist and an advocate. In a 2006 interview with the Windy City Times, she said that the gay community helped keep her name alive in the U.S. after she was blacklisted. She further explains that she empathizes with them and their struggles because she also knows what it is like to be cast out by society. After traveling the world, Miss Kitt established the Kittsville Youth Foundation Dance & Cultural Arts Program in 1965 out of frustration due to the lack of resources for children growing up like she did.
The ’90s continued on in the same fashion, with movie and television appearances, albums and tours. In 2000, she gained popularity with a younger audience in Disney’s The Emperor’s New Groove, providing the voice for the villain Yzma. She brought both humor and wickedness to the role that is irreplaceable and unforgettable. Unfortunately, she did have a song in the movie that ended up being cut. She won two Daytime Emmys for reprising the role in the series spinoff television series.
It was one of the last things she did after decades in showbusiness, and she died on Christmas Day 2008. Whether it was entertaining thousands on a Broadway stage, seducing Santa or playing the scheming villain, there’s nothing that she couldn’t do without absolutely, completely perfecting it.
In a clip from her 1982 documentary, All by Myself: The Eartha Kitt Story, she is asked if she would ever compromise herself, for a man or otherwise. “What is ‘compromising?’” she asks the interviewer, before laughing and calling it stupid. She never did compromise. She was always authentically herself, not caring what anyone thought.
With the new year looming, our staff is hyped to share Impact 89FM’s Top 89 Songs of 2022! From long awaited returns of artists like Big Thief and SZA to exciting newer artists like Chat Pile and Pool Kids, there’s sure to be a track for everyone to enjoy. Find the full list below, along with the complete playlist available on Spotify. Happy New Year!
1 Good Will Hunting – Black Country, New Road
2 Simulation Swarm – Big Thief
3 Driponomics – Soul Glo
4 Runner – Alex G
5 Pomeranian Spinster – Alvvays
6 Yuck- Charli XCX
7 Blind – SZA
8 Dance Now – J.I.D
9 Love, Try Not To Let Go – Julia Jacklin
10 Love Story – Black Midi
11 Pompeii by Cate Le Bon
12 Bull Believer – Wednesday
13 Lullaby – Grace Ives
14 No Hard Feelings – Billy Woods
15 Patrisse Cullors Stole My Lunch Money – Ghais Guevara
16 Chainsaw The Door – The Garden
17 Skin A Rat – SASAMI
18 Belize – Danger Mouse & BlackThought feat. MF DOOM
19 Welcome to Hell – Black Midi
20 Center – Weatherday & Asian Glow
21 Tastes Just Like It Costs – MJ Lenderman
22 Woohoo – Fleshwater
23 Wild Animals – Liv.e
24 Después de la Playa – Bad Bunny
25 oh my love – FKA Twigs
26 Shlut – shygirl
27 stabilise – Nilüfer Yanya
28 Make Me Wanna – Babeheaven feat. Navy Blue
29 Jumper – Courting
30 Window – Dehd
31 Gasoline – The Weeknd
32 Birthday Party – Porridge Radio
33 Fungal City- Bjork ft. serpentwithfeet
34 Slaughterhouse – Chat Pile
35 That’s Physics, Baby – Pool Kids
36 Promise – Knifeplay
37 Lights On – Hatchie
38 Big Disappointment- Militarie Gun
39 AMERICAN GURL – Kilo Kish
40 43 – Florist
41 Julianne Moore – Pearly
42 Survivor’s Guilt – Hailey Blais
43 50/50 – Extended Mix – Jockstrap
44 Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean’s Boulevard – Lana Del Rey
45 Neck & Wrist – Pusha T (feat. JAY-Z & Pharell Williams)
46 Eye In The Wall – Perfume Genius
47 Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve – Taylor Swift
48 Only You Know – Beach House
49 Plan B – Megan Thee Stallion
50 Virgo’s Groove – Beyonce
51 Mr. Put It On – AG Club
52 Clues To Read – Fievel Is Glauque
53 Helmet – Steve Lacy
54 Expert In A Dying Field – The Beths
55 Loose Talk – Show Me The Body
56 God Is A Circle – Yves Tumor
57 Suffer – Destroyer
58 God, Turn Me Into A Flower – Weyes Blood
59 Meet Me In Brooklyn – Yaya Bey
60 Should’ve Been Me – Mitski
61 Ravyn Lenae – Venom
62 Problem With It – Plains
63 Too Dead Inside – Yeule
64 Vanishing Coin – Tenci
65 All The Good Times – Angel Olsen
66 Flag Is Raised – Bladee
67 Footprints – Asunojokei
68 Hover like a goddess – Willow
69 Sweet Jesus Wept Shit – Cold Gawd
70 PUPTHEBAND Inc. Is Filing For Bankruptcy – PUP
71 Happen – Nick Hakim
72 Heaven Come Crashing – Rachika Nayar
73 No Curse Lifted – MIKE
74 Time – Pom Poko
75 Prescription Refill – Alex Cameron
76 Pg.4 a picture of three hedges – Julie
77 Foreground Music – Ron Gallo
78 Purple Hearts – Kendrick Lamar (feat. Summer Walker, Ghostface Killah)
79 You Will Never Work In Television Again – The Smile
80 Shotgun – Soccer Mommy
81 Nothing – Gladie
82 The Loneliest Time – Carly Rae Jepsen
83 F.N.F – Glorilla
84 Shadow Paradise – Burial
85 Happy Accident – Tomberlin
86 Iron Lung – King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard
87 Mi Manera de Querer – Natalia Lafourcade
88 Hardest Cut – Spoon
89 Billie Toppy – Men I Trust
Lansing-born owner of The Record Lounge, Heather Frarey, started her business with a partner during the 2008 recession. Against all odds of the national financial crisis, Frarey became the only female record store owner in Michigan. Her partner later left the business, and though a few women in Michigan own record stores with their husbands, Frarey is the only woman doing it all on her own.
Frarey does have the support of a close-knit staff and a loyal customer base. Employee Annie Dillard spoke about the shop, its customer base and the culture of The Record Lounge, while Frarey spoke of her business’ history and goals for the future.
The term is done. These last 12 weeks have felt all too long. Maybe it was 14 weeks. These last 14 weeks have felt all too short. Maybe I meant to say all too long. I don’t think it matters. Late August was sweaty. Another goodbye. Home is far away now. My heart is in East Lansing, but my home is elsewhere. 14 weeks. I’m shocked at how much I’ve changed. I’m embarrassed at how much I’ve stayed the same. It’s been a long road but a short time. Maybe it was a short road and a long time. I don’t think it matters. I’m going home now, headed towards what I love, but away from what I love at the same time. Headed towards my family, but away from my friends who feel like family, too. I think that means I have two families now. I know that that matters.
These are songs to ease the pain of saying goodbye. A comfort for before you’ve said hello again.
In three short weeks I’ll be back, and I will have never been happier. Until then, I need some time to myself.
I’m taking the long way home.
Nairobi sound artist Joseph Kamaru, also known as KMRU, is one of modern ambient’s most fascinating and trailblazing talents. Currently based in Berlin, he treats the act of listening with a reverence unknowable to many: What has entered his ears from the surrounding world has been translated into a discography hypnotic, dream-like and intriguing to no end. He has experimented heavily with field recordings, synths, machine learning and more to tap into the overflowing wealth of sounds our world has to offer, presenting us with an entirely new world within our own just waiting to be listened to and absorbed. Mike Merucci, editorial assistant and host of The Afterglow at Impact 89FM, was able to sit down with KMRU for a conversation covering his recent albums, his tour with Big Thief, his future endeavors, the art of listening and more.
The following transcript has been edited for clarity purposes.
Mike Merucci: It seems like you’ve been having a really busy year: touring with Big Thief, playing a lot of shows in the UK, two albums releasing. I imagine it’s been equally exciting but also draining.
Joseph Kamaru: Yeah, it’s been quite a busy year. I think it’s the year that I’ve been so grounded in a way, like with everything. Just being able to work and at the same time to have a grounding with the things that I’m doing. It’s been busy, but I appreciate showing up for the music things that I have going on and playing shows and even having time to make music, because I think this is the year that I felt like I didn’t have as much time to create music. But I’ve made so much music already and, yeah, I feel grounded. Even if it seems a bit busy and a lot going on.
Merucci: And you have a lot of schoolwork to do, right? You’re in a master’s program, so how’s that fill into your schedule?
Kamaru: Yeah, that’s also another weight on my back… this summer semester had classes, so I was in and out arriving from the airport to class. And at some point, it was a lot, but it happened when I was touring with Big Thief. So for the whole tour I scheduled all my flights around my classes because I didn’t want to miss so many classes, but I really appreciated having this cool routine. So at some point, I always have to remind myself that I have to also think about school because it’s also a priority for me to finish my Master’s.
Merucci: So with Limen, the first album that you worked on this year — did you mostly work on that last year, or was that partly this year as well? What drew you to that sound? And that collaboration specifically? Because when you look back at your work prior to that, it’s such a big shift, but it’s so interesting.
Kamaru: Aho Ssan — I met him maybe three years ago. And we were exchanging music ideas, thoughts about our processes of creation. And luckily, we ended up being on the same booking agency and also getting commissions together. So we made some music together and we were like, let’s compile some of the music we’ve made and share it because his approach of composition and mine is like two different worlds. But I feel there’s a really strong connection, which was quite seamless… We don’t think so much — it just happens — and an album just came to be. Effortless, in a way. But also, with my move to Berlin, my music became a bit louder or abrasive because it’s a bit silent here and wanting to hear more noise stuff or even performance has really influenced how my music sounds… if it’s not the Limen live sets, but my own performances, there’s a way that playing in different sound systems has affected how I make music in a way, also.
Merucci: And what you said about Berlin being so quiet: I remember I read an interview that you had partaken in where you said that Berlin is really quiet for a city. Do you still seek out field recordings as often in Berlin as you did in Nairobi? Or do you have to shift your musical style in Berlin?
Kamaru: I haven’t been recording as much here as compared to Nairobi because in Nairobi there’s a lot. There’s, like, so much interesting things to record as opposed to here, but I do have recordings from Berlin. I’m still using field recordings in my music as the basis for my work a lot. I became more of a listener here than a recordist, where I was trying to attune myself to this new soundscape. It’s quite silent. And even the fact that when I close my window that I cannot hear anything outside is just bizarre. I’m trying to listen back to the recordings I’ve done from Nairobi or different places a lot. And also going for walks and just listening for what’s new. It feels like I already know the sounds that I’d expect outside, so it’s not as interesting.
Merucci: I will say that the silence of early winter — for me — has been especially jarring. I would go outside and, compared to summer time, summer is much louder. Do you also see a distinction between seasons in terms of sound?
Kamaru: Yeah, that’s true. Because I moved here in November around this time. Yeah. Earlier in November, and it was just deafening, like, quite silent. And in the winter, it gets too quiet. But it’s also nice, sometimes, where it’s super silent. But, sometimes, noise is also good.
Merucci: With your newest release, epoch — since Berlin is so quiet, are your field recordings on that album sourced in Berlin? Or are they from elsewhere?
Kamaru: It has field recordings from Berlin, also old ones from Nairobi. Other recordings from the US, actually, while touring there. Yeah, but very subtle.
Merucci: So, when you’re touring — because it seems like you do a lot of shows in the UK as well, and you went to the US — do you pick up noises frequently from when you’re touring and then you just compile it later and look back?
Kamaru: Not as much, actually, but I try to carry my field recorder. And most times I don’t use it, but sometimes when I’m, like, at the hotel, I’ll just put the microphones outside the window and record a long recording, and mostly just listen back, actually — not use it. Because if I’m playing a show and I have, like, three days in the city or four, that’s when I can do lots of recordings. But I’ve also been carrying a camera, so I also take pictures of places I have been, just to remember.
Merucci: Do you see yourself bridging more into visual art? Like, when you’re taking pictures, do you see yourself doing exhibitions anywhere down the line with photography or anything like that paired with your music?
Kamaru: Yeah… I think I’ve never mentioned before, but I used to have a camera when I was maybe 13 or something and I used to take pictures with a family camera, but I wasn’t interested in, like, images of objects or things. And then that stopped when I lost the camera, but I bought this camera just to sort of document as a way, also — together with sound. But yeah, I take lots of pictures also thinking of artworks, sometimes album artworks because I feel there’s a strong effect or affect with really strong image. And sometimes I’d take a picture and think that maybe I could make a short EP based on this image.
Merucci: In association with images: memory. When you’re making music, do you use your music as a capsule for memories, sometimes? With Limen — to me, that sounds like a prediction of the future. That album, to me, sounds like the end of the world. But then when I listen to something like Jar, that sounds like an album full of memory to me. Or when I listen to Peel — Peel is like a weird bridging between, like, disturbing silence, but also peaceful memory. Do you walk along that line in any way, or no?
Kamaru: I think, with field recordings, the sense of memory [comes] from doing actual field recordings, because I’ve done lots of them. And I stopped, like, documenting or naming them because I want to remember when I listen back to them, and most times when I’m making [music] like Jar, for example, which is heavily with field recordings… I can remember different places or spaces that I was recording or the environment or the people who are around there. But — for example — with Limen, with Aho Ssan: We’ve had ideas where it sounds like it’s the end of the world or it has a visual memory of something, which is depicted maybe after the project is done… I think it just transpires slowly when the music feels this way, but it’s not in the initial conception… Maybe if it’s something specific to a specific place, and I’m only using the recordings of this one place, and then there’s different nuances of this place. And the way the music just feels like there’s an environment around it: like different sounds, memories.
Merucci: Yeah, that makes sense because a lot of people I’ve talked to — when they create — don’t specifically have something in mind at first, and then after you make it, then it’s like, oh, maybe this was subconscious or something. Things always on your mind, somewhere tucked deep.
Kamaru: Yeah.
Merucci: Well, there is one specific track from you that I do want to talk about: “Why Are You Here.” Why did you title it “Why Are You Here?”
Kamaru: It’s, like, this normal day where you open Ableton and jam on something or try a new plug in, and I made the track. And this is the first track that I made for Peel — and I knew this was going to be an album after making this. And it also happened when I had, like, a transition of life… There was COVID — things had stopped, and there’s things happening. I just finished my studies — my undergrad in school — and I stopped teaching. I lost this teaching job that I was teaching production and guitar. And then I was just constantly in my bedroom making music for, like, three months or something. And, yeah, in between [was] this night where I started experimenting with drone, this genre called drone. I just titled the track “Why Are You Here” mostly in a connection to what was happening in my life. And I knew that this was going to be a record from this track.
Merucci: I read that you previously said that [Peel] was the first album that you made where you wanted all the tracks to relate to each other. So when you made “Why Are You Here” you decided everything wants to relate to each other?
Kamaru: Yeah, because — apart from Peel — all the other records are made in different, like, projects, but Peel — It’s like a book, like one long project. And it’s just the one project file, which was interesting to approach making an album this way. And also the fact that I finished it so quickly that I wasn’t sure if it’s finished, or it sounds finished. And constantly going back to it and, yeah, eventually it came out.
Merucci: So, you have not continued that process with your most recent ones, like epoch? How did you make that one in comparison?
Kamaru: I knew I was going for this US tour earlier this year, and I made a promise that when I come back, I’ll buy a synth — I bought a Prophet Rev2 — and I’m gonna make an album just with it. And yeah, that’s what I did. So I came back, had the Prophet, and the whole month was just, like, recording noises and bloops and using the pedals. Because I knew I wouldn’t have more time to make music in one setting, so I made some sketches when I was home, and then Big Thief happened and when I was coming home, I was just working on it.
Merucci: So did Big Thief just reach out to you or your manager one day? Just how’d that happen?
Kamaru: So the drummer, James: He’s the one who wrote to my booking, Carin, and it was a very personal email. It was during COVID that he discovered my music and he sat with the whole band, and listened to maybe my entire discography. And they were like, you want to tour with this guy? And they reached out and it was quite special because I learned so much from them because they’re so human. And just seeing them play and getting to know them very closely. Because my friends were saying bands wouldn’t, like, want to build a relationship with the support act, and I bonded so much with them. And yeah, I just appreciate that I had this experience with the band in the summer for so many shows.
Merucci: In the future are you going to be doing any more supporting acts — do you know as of yet — or are you unsure what the next year holds?
Kamaru: In the future? I’m not sure if I’m gonna do another support act, but maybe, I’m not sure. At the moment, next year, I’ll just be working on a dance piece. Yeah, I can’t say much about it, but that’s the only thing that I have.
Merucci: That sounds exciting. That’s something that you’ve never truly delved into before. Is it new for you, or have you kind of dabbled [in it] in the past but just not fully gone into it?
Kamaru: Just with an individual dancer, because it’s something that I wanted to do — where a dancer, like, reaches out and wants to use my music for their choreography. But me being the one curating and working on the music? I’ve never gotten the chance, and I think this one will be interesting.
Merucci: Awesome. That certainly does seem interesting. So I’m mostly curious: How many more semesters do you think you have in school?
Kamaru: I finish next summer, so I only have maybe one or two. Yeah, two.
Merucci: Do you think you’re going for a PhD as well, or is Master’s where it’s at?
Kamaru: Yeah, I’m doing my Master’s now, so if I do my PhD, maybe it’s going to be something creative and not, like, quite theoretical. But not now: I think I need some break.
Merucci: Theoretically speaking, any ideas for what you would write a doctoral thesis on if you were ever to do that?
Kamaru: I think it’ll have to do something with listening because with my university, my program in sound studies, I realized the discourse is so specific to the Western Eurocentric or occidental ways of thinking. And, yeah, most of all my school projects are just about my history, my growing up, references from home, which sometimes is hard to get, but I try to use sound in a way to provoke this. And if I’m going to do a thesis, it’s going to be something around listening.
Merucci: So, growing up, were you taught a certain way of listening, or did you just observe other people listening around you, or did it just kind of happen where you ended up listening to everything around you in a way that’s just kind of different from anyone else? Or from experiences that you have listening elsewhere?
Kamaru: I think the environment where I grew up also changed how — not how I listened — but how you relate to things around you, with people and even listening, I guess, because I grew up in a really noisy neighborhood — really intense. And I realized when my parents moved to, like, a silent neighborhood… is when I could hear things clearer. More in a technical way, but also understanding how people relate to each other on a social level. And I think this was what interested me when I bought a field recorder: I was just amazed, like, oh, I can listen even more with this device. And trying to connect both the listening, like, the ear, and also relation with spaces, people, and sound, because I realized people don’t think about sound. Like, in Nairobi, I realized people are not thinking about sound a lot just as a sound, not as a musical thing. And yeah, it was quite odd all the time trying to explain what I’m doing. Because I’m just using sound — it’s not music. It’s just field recording and I use it to try and find something that we can learn from listening to, like, this market [for example] and try[ing] and get information just from the sound of it. Like how busy it is, what time it is based on the levels of interaction and stuff like this.
Merucci: I’ll ask you one more question here, also relating to that: Do you have — or, at least, did you used to have — a certain sound that was your favorite sound to record or a favorite genre of sound [to] record? And has that changed over the years as you’ve gotten older and moved from place to place?
Kamaru: I used to — when I had the field recorder in the earlier days — record a lot of nature sounds and things in the house… I was always saying, like, all the things we have around us have a life of their own, sound-wise, and they want to be voiced. At the moment, [I] have three cups on my table and a plate and a pedal and a headphone, and I’d voice them and sound them and make compositions for them. In a way like “This is my piece for the cup. The cup has something to say” and I recorded so much in the house, like doors. Just minute sounds, like Foley things, and then [I’d] collage them and make pieces for, like, my bedroom. Like, my bedroom sounds this way, and I use all the sounds I can get and I can make a composition about this room. And eventually I went to city soundscapes, which was interesting in Nairobi. And just trying to relate different cities, if there’s something I can find. For example, in Berlin and Nairobi I have recorded much, so I always try and see a similarity — if there is. When I travel, I try and record one recording and always listen to something that I can hear back, or that can relate to Nairobi. At the moment, it’s become so focused when I decide to carry a field recorder. And yeah, spaces like buildings where I’d want to stay for long or places where I can go back and listen again and sort of build a connection with a place or a community or a neighborhood. I think where I live in Berlin, I feel so comfortable recording because I’m sure people have seen me walking or they know you can see different people the same. You can see similar people sometimes, because maybe they live here, and I record much around here. Also, in a way, I hear more because I feel like I know how it sounds more.
Twilight is thought of as just sexy vampires and lethargic acting, but under the surface something magnificent lurks. Bella Swan must choose between the hot pale creep or the buff tan creep, all in the infamous blue filter with thousands of tweens watching. The soundtrack for this movie could’ve been taken in a million different directions, but music supervisor Alexandra Patsavas decided to give the people more than we ever deserved. Pastavas’ score fused with Carter Burwell’s score gave the world the gift we didn’t know we needed: the soundtrack for Twilight (2008).
We open in the woods. In a voiceover, Bella describes her ideal death while Tim Burton-esque instrumentation puts audiences on the edge of their seat for the first of many times. A deer is killed before we turn back to Bella. She says goodbye to her mom in Arizona and begins her journey to Forks, Washington to move in with her dad. The opening credits are backed by The Blacks Ghosts’ “Full Moon,” an acoustic choice with lyrics focusing on moving far away and into the unknown. It’s a rather on the nose choice that starts the movie off with a very quirky coming of age vibe, which I guess Twilight technically has.
Bella reunites with her dad, Charlie, and meets Jacob Black and his father, Billy. Bella is given her signature orange truck and there’s some lovely exposition. In this portion of the movie, Bella starts school and meets a lunch table full of largely irrelevant friends then has her first brush with Edward Cullen, her standoffish lab partner. After overhearing Edward try to switch out of her science class, Bella decides to confront him. She waits in the parking lot and we see Emmet Cullen, the one with the infamous bag of eggs in the cafeteria scene, standing through the sunroof of the Jeep. We’re treated to “Eyes On Fire” by Blue Foundation. This is one of the songs that I think of as solely a Twilight song, with soft vocals and light, simple guitar. It’s breathy and slow — it sounds like a rainy day in Forks. But despite the compelling music, Edward doesn’t get out of the car. In fact, he’s out of school all week.
We hear from Charlie, Forks’ chief of police, that there’s been a fatal animal attack. Not so coincidentally, Edward is back in class the next day: back and apologetic. Edward and Bella work on cell phases in biology. The writing in this movie is almost too good to be true as when asked about the weather, Bella shares her disdain for “cold, wet things.” Edward runs away after claiming the fluorescent lights turn his eyes red; this is very solid characterization for his behavior throughout the movie.
In the parking lot after school, a car skids and almost hits Bella. Edward instantaneously moves across the parking lot and shields her, holding the car back with one arm. This sequence is of course set to Collective Souls’ “Tremble for my Beloved” because nothing says “That boy’s not human” quite like a tinny guitar solo. I actually really like this choice. The simple structure lets the energy build as Bella processes that her freak lab partner has superhuman speed and strength. At this point you can hear that the soundtrack of this movie is just so teenager. This could be the playlist of a random 10th grader in 2008 and I wouldn’t bat an eye, which is exactly the vibe this movie needed.
Bella is cleared of all injury by her doctor, Edward’s adoptive dad Carlisle, who looks more like a cartoon ghost than an ER doctor. Bella confronts Edward about his superhuman abilities and he gaslights her because he’s a 17-year-old vampire. On the school field trip to the greenhouse — because sure, why not? — Edward corners Bella and tells her they shouldn’t be friends.
Bella joins her non-vampiric friends at “La Push,” the saddest, rainiest beach in the world. Despite his invitation, Edward doesn’t show. Though Jacob — the other heartthrob — does. He tells Bella about his wolf heritage and their centuries-long beef with the Cullens. The Cullens have fled anyway, as the next day at school is sunny. Bella and her normal human friends go prom dress shopping to “I Caught Myself” by Paramore. The weird handycam footage in this scene makes it feel like something your friend made on iMovie, but Paramore is a great lighthearted choice for this scene, catchy and sweet. This is one of the few scenes in the movie without a cartoonish monster, and Hayley Williams’ voice is so pleasant and gentle. This track is of course only Paramore’s warm-up with Twilight, but a wonderful addition to the soundtrack nonetheless.
Bella ditches the girls to buy a book on ancient creatures and on her way out is surrounded by a gang of men. Luckily, Edward swerves through the alley in the way a freshly tall enough 10-year-old would maneuver a go-kart. He tells Bella to get in the car before kind of just leaning and breathing heavily at the guys. He then drives toward them and that seems to do the trick. This scene is set to one of Burwell’s original compositions for Twilight, “Humans Are Predators Too,” which sounds like the prolonged introduction of a song from a cartoon parodying Kiss. It is so “teenage vampire fights off gangsters for the love interest he’s spoken 14 words to.”
Tangentially, Edward swerves across lanes of traffic back onto the main road, and then laughs at Bella when she suggests he put his seatbelt on. He even mocks her, saying she should put her seatbelt on. His laugh in this scene, which is the first we see him laugh by the way, has the exact same energy as Khloé Kardashian laughing at the Calm therapy app while driving.
Anyway, Bella and Edward make it to dinner and have totally normal conversations about how Edward can read everyone’s minds but hers. Their dinner is set to a Robert Pattinson original, “Never Think,” which is a quiet, folky song with the most intensely foreshadowing lyrics in the world. Pattinson sings:
“Before you’re too far gone /
before nothing can be done /
I’ll try to decide when /
she’ll lie in the end.”
If you’re familiar with the rest of the Twilight series you know that these lyrics are almost too on the nose. But I think Twilight can get away with that.
Finding out that Pattinson wrote this just adds to the chaos that was Pattinson on the Twilight set. Pattinson was living on his agent’s couch at the time of his audition, and according to Insider, auditioned under the strong influence of Valium, which clearly had an effect on Edward’s dazed characterization in this movie as opposed to the rest of the saga. I appreciate Pattinson’s ability to get the role while high and somehow wind up with songs on the soundtrack. In an interview with GQ, Pattinson talked about his habit of sneaking off during the filming of The Batman (2022), in full costume, to make “ambient electronic music.” He’s the love of my life is what I’m trying to get at.
With the weirdest date of her life out of the way, Bella does some reflection and realizes Edward is a vampire. The next day at school, they go into the woods to talk about it. The song aptly named “I Know What You Are” from Burwell plays, accurately capturing the vibe of skipping school in the woods with your 108-year-old, sparkly lab partner. The track is defined by lots of intense and rhythmic orchestral scoring with natural effects that fade into a synth-heavy background. This one could actually be right off an adventure video game. Unfortunately, the only comparable soundtrack I’m familiar with is that of the Spyro: Ripto’s Rage, although that’s a little more upbeat and whimsical. The point is that it’s adventuring music for their adventure in the woods in the middle of a school day.
The next day, Bella and Edward show up together. Edward is wearing sunglasses for the first time and, for some reason, the whole school is staring. They walk into school to “Spotlight” by Mutemath. Again a very on the nose choice for when the spotlight truly is on them. It’s fun and indie rock, and Edward is smiling! I’m starting to think you could actually get the entire plot by just looking through the lyrics of the soundtrack. Mutemath sings:
“Oh, just take the fall, /
you’re one of us, /
the spotlight is on.”
Bella and Edward once again head to the woods, where Edward explains his troubles in 1918 with the Spanish influenza and how Carlisle turned him into a vampire to save his life. Jacob turns up for a second — I forgot about him, too — but we quickly end up at the Cullens’ house. In the Cullen kitchen, Esme (Mrs. Cullen), is listening to “La Traviata” from the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, a song about a girl who leaves her life behind to follow true love. Nice.
In Edward’s room they listen to “Clair de Lune,” which, despite its fame, I fully think of as a Twilight song. This is a great accomplishment from a soundtrack. We also hear an extended portion of “Bella’s Lullaby” which is a motif throughout the movie and universally recognizable as the Twilight song. People who have never seen the movie recognize its ebbs and flows and its piano-violin-centric melody. It also used to be the outro to my podcast, furthering its notoriety.
Bella finds out Edward has been watching her sleep for months and decides she’s enamored with him nonetheless. This brings us to 78 minutes in, and to the scene this article is all about. Edward takes Bella to play baseball with his family.
The baseball-during-a-thunderstorm scene is a cinematic masterpiece. “Supermassive Black Hole” by Muse plays as the Cullens play the most dramatic inning known to man. Alice’s wind-up, the matching jerseys, the wind sound effects, the slow-mo running, the mid-air collisions and the perfect pop rock song. “Supermassive Black Hole” is perfect for this scene. It’s catchy, it’s strong, it has falsetto — but in a good way. It really feels like vampire baseball. I saw Muse perform it live in 2017 as part of a show opened by Jared Leto’s Thirty Seconds to Mars. It’s easily one of the best “two truths and a lie” days in my life. I fully and unironically believe this is one of the best scenes in cinematic history. Unfortunately, their game is crashed by some rival vampires. The soundtrack during this altercation is, once again, very Ripto’s Rage.
Once the other vampires learn Bella is human, the Cullens immediately have to flee Forks entirely. They split up and Bella goes with Jasper and Alice. We go through a chunk here of Burwell’s dramatic action soundtracks until the vampires bait Bella into her old ballet studio. The Cullens come to save her, but Bella’s been bitten. Edward is forced to do what Carlisle did for him and suck the venom out. This is set to another acoustic Pattinson original, “Let Me Sign.” It’s sweet, if a bit twangy for a man I’m fully aware has a British accent.
Bella recovers and is reunited with her parents and Edward. Edward takes Bella to prom, trying to restore normalcy to her life after the vampire venom incident. They dance in the gazebo to Iron and Wine’s “Flightless Bird, American Mouth.” It’s a nice, light, sugary slow dance song. It’s also just niche enough that it’s a “Twilight song.” The song is so iconic that fans have even gone on to play it at their own weddings. This is maybe the only scene in the movie where you would forget Edward’s a freak vampire, which is a nice note to end on.
Or it would be if the ending credits were not an absolute powerhouse. “15 Step” by Radiohead, followed by Linkin Park’s “Leave out all the Rest,” followed by the Paramore original “Decode,” which was written for Twilight and went on to chart all over the world. It also received a Grammy nomination. The official music video for “Decode” is actually just an answer to the question “What if Paramore was in the Twilight woods?” It’s a masterpiece in its own right. These three songs being shoved into the end credits feels a little like wasting these songs, but it gives people around the world the chance to go “Is that Paramore?” after watching a cinematic masterpiece.
Now at this point I know you may be thinking “Didn’t My Chemical Romance have a song on the soundtrack?” Twilight and My Chem are pretty consistently linked together but not for the reason you may think. They were approached multiple times to write a song for the movie, but they continuously refused. While Stephanie Meyer claims to have used some of My Chem’s vibe as inspiration for the series’ aesthetic, the band was adamantly against being involved with Twilight. This didn’t stop them from releasing their own take on vampire romance. In 2010, My Chemical Romance released their fourth studio album, Danger Days, which features the track “Vampire Money,” a very pop punk-y track with lyrics consistently poking fun at Twilight and Hollywood’s vampire craze. Lines like “Sparkle like Bowie in the morning sun” are an obvious nod to the Cullens’ glittery skin. Similarly, the after chorus sarcastically highlights their disdain for commodifying their aesthetic. While the film studio may have offered them a pretty penny, they really don’t care about the band’s artistic integrity:
“The kids don’t care if you’re alright, honey /
Pills don’t help, but it sure is funny /
Gimme, gimme some of that vampire money, come on!”
The Twilight soundtrack is a 2008 teenage dream. It captures the campy, trying-a-little-too-hard teen smash hit that Twilight was. There were hits, maybe a few odd choices, a Pattinson original here and there, but this soundtrack is clearly beloved for a reason, and that reason is that it’s truly one of a kind.
The term “hardcore music” is painfully difficult to define. It doesn’t necessarily define a sound, but it kind of does. It also doesn’t necessarily mean punk, but it kind of does. It used to be easy to qualify. Hardcore punk bands in the 1980s all had a similar sound; it was essentially its own genre — punk music that was played faster and meaner. As time went on, bands started calling themselves hardcore but began taking influences from other corners of extreme music.
Once the mid ‘90s hit, it was over for “hardcore punk” as a term to describe music sonically. Bands still carried the attitude of punk — by the people, for the people — but hardcore bands ceased to only sound like punk music. Groups like Madball still had echoes of classic punk in their sound, but their contemporaries, like Merauder and Disembodied, were developing darker and heavier music. As time went on, these changes built upon each other to form what is known today as simply “hardcore.” Today’s hardcore scene is a wild collision of styles, some appearing like carbon copies of each other while others are wholly unique.
This playlist — meant to be listened to in order — is designed to give you a crash course in contemporary American hardcore music, briefly tracing its origins in early hardcore punk in the ‘80s and its evolution to something darker and meaner in the ‘90s. The primary focus of this playlist is on the 2010s-2020s and the incomprehensible yet beautiful mess of sounds and influences that make up the current scene.
Hardcore today is both indefinable and totally singular. There is joy, sadness and anger in this music. There is also love, beauty and hate. Hardcore has so much to offer if you drop all barriers and open yourself up to it. It can also severely reject you if you come in with rigid expectations. Whether or not you like it is up to you, not the music.
Hardcore is for anybody, but it’s not for everybody.
Singer-songwriter Naethan Apollo joins Impact’s entertainment editor Norene Bassin and volunteer writer, Arden Vanover, to talk about his path to where he is today, what the future holds, his next lore-driven project and a little bit about Dungeons & Dragons.
The “Person in the Mirror” singer grew up in the small town of Solon, Iowa. He recently graduated from Iowa State University with a degree in graphic design. He got his first big start on TikTok when he decided to break away from his former style and head towards something that fit his current state of mind and showcased his voice and personality.
Formerly known as White Lightning and XIX, Naethan named himself after the Greek god of music and the arts, Apollo. The spelling of his name with the “ae” is a purposeful nod to his friend and former collaborator, Praeditus. Apollo tells us that Praeditus taught him how to mix music when he was first getting started and they were planning on growing together as artists, but Praeditus died suddenly a few years ago. To honor his friend, he carries a piece of his name in his own.
Apollo’s unique voice used to be what he believed would hold him back from a career in music, but now it has turned into his main instrument and something fans praise because he is instantly recognizable when he starts by saying “Hello!” Apollo sticks to spoken-word rap and adds inflections and different cadences for style.
For the full hour’s worth of conversation, listen to our interview linked above.
Naethan’s music can be found on all streaming platforms, and on the major social media sites at @naethan_apollo.
American hardcore is having a special moment right now. From Turnstile playing late night shows to Knocked Loose touring stadiums with $uicideboy$, extreme music is occupying a place in the popular consciousness that it hasn’t since the explosion of nu-metal in the ‘90s. With the current flood of hardcore bands releasing music today, it can be easy to let some projects pass you by.
Do not let Regulate pass you by.
Bursting at the seams with reckless energy, this album instantly rivals both classic and contemporary works in the genre and beyond. With the 10 songs constituting the 25-minute Regulate, the band has crafted a masterwork of joy, pride and ferocity. Nearly every kind of archetypal hardcore song is present on this project: celebrations of live music, anti-cop beatdowns, location-based pride and searing indictments of oppression in America.
The album opens with “In The Moment,” a song whose chorus is as catchy as its breakdown is mean. Lyrically the track is a joyous ode to live music and the hardcore scene as a whole. The art that is hardcore is meant to be seen together live, celebrated with a community.
“We touch experience you can’t fake.”
The breakdown callout is sung in Columbian by vocalist Sebastian Paba.
“Oiga mire vea.”
The phrase, often used as an exclamation to get someone’s attention, can be roughly translated as “To hear.” Paba is pleading with the audience to simply hear the music. In a live setting the crowd is likely to both hear the music and physically feel it, as the palm muted breakdown that follows lends itself perfectly to ruthless crowd killing.
The hummable melodies of “In The Moment” lead way into the first of the album’s two furious indictments of the injustice of law enforcement, “The Crime.” A slamming bass riff builds with the drums to create an up-tempo flurry that serves as the perfect frame for Paba’s lyrics about murders committed by police — lyrics that can only be done justice by hearing their delivery. He cites several cases in quick succession but notably omits all names, exemplifying how these killings are so frequent and normalized that names of victims become lost in the shuffle.
“The crime is a hoodie in winter /
The crime is failure to signal /
The crime is being in your own home.”
Trayvon Martin. Patrick Lyoya. Breonna Taylor.
“Every time I turn on the news /
I see another brother, sister dead.”
These murders fade so quickly from the popular consciousness because more are committed every day. This pain is spun into longing on the next track, “Why Can’t We?” The quick-paced guitar strumming provokes movement in whoever listens. The speed is built while Paba screams about sincerity and its lack thereof in the world today. Hate does not have to consume us. We are not weak if we express love. We don’t have to be like anyone but ourselves. These themes of identity and longing for freedom from social judgment fill the bars of this track.
“Why can’t we show love? /
Why can’t we say sorry? /
Why can’t we try? /
Why can’t we be okay with not being right?”
This track, as well as its outro, teaches us that Regulate is not a one-trick pony. The ending sample, which connects to the themes of the previous track, leads us into a song about pride in one’s identity: “Hair.”
Sonically, this song is a standout on the album. It features Paba’s clean vocals, which are some of the best in all of contemporary extreme music. There are no beatdown riffs or any other musical signifers declaring that this is a hardcore song. A gentle palm muted riff reminiscent of ‘80s pop plays over a cowbell of all things. The unstoppable groove of this song houses lyrics of self, with Paba expressing that he used to draw lines between who he was and who he showed the world. He spins these lyrics with lines about his hair, and these two ideas coalesce into one theme. His hair is something that shows both his race and ethnicity as a symbol of pride that used to be employed against him.
“Our crowns mean more than you could ever wrap your mind around /
It’s in the land and it’s all of me.”
It is self-love and self-expression.
The ferociously groovy interlude “Ugata” leads into one of the more straightforward and violent songs on the album, “You & I.” The track furiously expands upon the themes of “Hair” while specifying it to the history of persecution faced by indigenous peoples.
Today’s society puts significant value in appreciating the full horror of what happened to the Americas’ indigenous populations and attempting to reckon with that via gestures like land acknowledgements. The blunt reality is — no matter how well-intentioned — land acknowledgements serve no practical purpose other than what comes across as a simple “Oops, our bad.” The band’s rage on this track is palpable: Simple apologies do not make up for the rape of entire cultures, but Paba refuses to play the victim. There is pride in his lyrics that is not seen in colonizers, whose roots exist in exploitation and brutality, whose connection to the earth lies in personal gain instead of harmony with nature.
“We’re linked through the earth /
Tied to her roots /
Original peoples /
The planet’s absolutes.”
All of this rage is funneled into sadness in the next song, “In This Life and the Next (H.H.C).” Here is a shining example of the coalescence of different styles that make a song sonically diverse but still fundamentally hardcore. We have Paba’s lyrics which lament a loss but are sung instead of screamed, bucking expectations for a normal hardcore cut. Musically, the song is composed to be an electric combination of sounds which begs for stage dives in a live setting.
Next in the tracklist comes “Work,” one of the more clearly messaged songs on the album, which is about the Sisyphean task of being working class in 21st century America. The myth of honest work is explored on this track, decidedly stating that it doesn’t matter how hard or how sincerely you work — you will never receive your fair compensation. People in power structure employment to string along workers so they always need more than what they have: What these workers are given is never enough to sustain. Interrupting these screamed lyrics is a spoken word passage reminiscent of System of a Down’s “Prison Song,” where Serj Tankian espouses facts about the prison industrial complex during a bridge. Paba does a similar vocalization here, but with the concept of the American dream.
“The definition of the American dream is a happy way of living that is thought of by many as something that can be achieved by anyone in the U.S. especially by working hard /
And people in positions of power propagate this myth so you sell your soul to a job that takes advantage of you, disrespects you and punishes you for unionizing.”
Far from subtle but not incorrect, Paba spins these lyrics about exploitation into the penultimate song on the album, “New York Hates You.”
Once again, Regulate is doing two things at once. They are writing about the blight of tourism on New York and how that industry is parasitic to its residents. This song is a one minute and 57 second long middle finger to the inundation of people that turn someone’s hometown into a zoo. What comes with tourists is the prioritization of tourists over residents. The resentment expressed in this song is not dissimilar to the common resentment expressed by hardcore bands toward the police. It is not anger at a person or a group of people, but at institutions that perpetuate violence on the working class.
“They’ll be on their way out soon /
All they do is take.”
“And those who call it home /
Are left out in the cold.”
And with this talk of oppressive institutions we arrive at the final track, “C.O.P.”
Hardcore, since its beginnings in punk rock, has always had a grudge against law enforcement stemming from their propensity to shut down DIY shows and to oppress minority groups that found a home in the subculture. Regulate is no different. This ferociously pulsating cut is home to some of the most pure and potent anti-police lyrics in hardcore today.
“Abuse your power for your own satisfaction /
You only protect each other /
Club of corrupt brothers.”
The rage in Paba’s delivery of every single word on this track is so visceral it simply cannot be done justice in writing. This is a song that is begging to be listened to, not read about. And when you have listened to it, it is a song that is begging to be heard live.
“If I had it my way /
We’d get rid of you all.”
There are countless shades and details to the “defund the police” movement. Regulate does not care. This song is not a policy proposal or speech on the nuances of policing, it is an expression of pure rage at an institution responsible for generations of abuse.
What Regulate has done on this song and album is distill the message of hardcore to its clearest form. While doing this they have constructed the form of their songs with a beautiful array of influences from clave drum patterns of Latin music to spoken-word passages of nu-metal. I’m certain that I’ve overused the word “pure” in this review, but that’s because I just can’t figure out a better way to express the level of sincere directness expressed on this album.
This isn’t an album that will win Grammys or garner mass appeal, but it’s not an album that wants to. This is more than an album to listen to: It’s an album to get punched in the face to, to stage dive to and — most importantly — to move to. The brilliance captured on this recording is bound to be nothing short of a revelation when seen live. This is because hardcore isn’t about experiencing an album alone. Hardcore is not about being alone. Period. This is an album made for a community. An album made by the kids for the kids. This isn’t just music.
This is hardcore.
“And if I lose this feeling /
Heart would stop beating.”
It’s been 15 years since Diablo Cody’s Oscar-winning film Juno was released in 2007. The film follows 16-year-old Juno’s pregnancy, and is filled with witty quips and fantastic writing that earned Cody the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay. Juno has something even better, though: a soundtrack that compiles the best indie tracks of the 2000s.
The soundtrack reflects Juno’s teenage quirks by using the works of Kimya Dawson and her bands The Moldy Peaches and Antsy Pants in tandem with other indie darlings. Elliot Page, who plays Juno, personally recommended Kimya Dawson’s music when asked “What would Juno listen to?” by the film’s director, Jason Reitman. Dawson’s simple guitar interludes and warm lyrics underscore the film’s heart.
As the film opens, we are introduced to Juno — slinging her gallon of Sunny-D — who is off to take a slew of pregnancy tests. Barry Louis Polisar’s “All I Want is You” plays throughout the introduction. The track only uses guitar, harmonica and vocals, highlighting Juno’s naivety through its simplicity. The bouncing rhythm gives the scene a childlike playfulness; the song represents the calm before the storm.
The storm hits with Dawson’s “Tire Swing,” which plays when Juno comes to terms with the fact that she is pregnant with her close friend Paulie’s child. The upbeat rhythm continues to emphasize Juno’s youth, while the mellow lyrics bring a somber feeling into the movie. The lyrics depict a devastating breakup caused not by a lack of love but by a lack of compatibility, reflecting Juno’s failed relationship with her bandmate and buddy. Dawson beautifully demonstrates Juno’s increasing feelings of isolation and loneliness when Juno can’t even articulate what she’s feeling.
Throughout much of the film, Dawson acts as Juno’s internal monologue. Juno masks her hurt with witty dialogue to the point where the audience almost needs Dawson’s sobering guitar strings after having to dissect some of the quirkiest dialogue known to man. For example, Juno says, “I am for shiz up the spout,” which hones in on the outlandishness of indie films during this time.
Fortunately, the dialogue changes to a more serious tone along with the music. An instrumental version of Dawson’s “Reminders of Then” rings out while Juno calls and asks about a potential abortion. The rhythm is slower than Dawson’s previous songs, and the simple, somber lyrics accentuate Juno’s hopelessness in the scene.
Flashing forward two trimesters, the musical tone continues to evolve. Gone are the clean acoustics of Kimya Dawson. The film welcomes a more complex indie sound with Belle and Sebastian. In a way, it’s a grown-up version of Juno’s favorite music. The band continues to use Juno’s staples, such as fast-paced acoustic strumming, but incorporates far more percussion instruments, complicated orchestrations and layered harmonies.
For example, when Juno becomes frustrated with Paulie, she storms away to Belle and Sebastian’s “Expectations,” which tells the story of an odd girl in school figuring out what to do with her life. The more mature sound of Belle and Sebastian emphasizes the more mature situations Juno has to combat, not just making up late homework or other minor high school problems.
Near the end of the film, Juno and Paulie make up, underscored by The Moldy Peaches’ “So Nice So Smart,” yet another heartbreaking ballad about a breakup. This time, far more intimate. The lyrics paint a picture of a close friend breaking your heart, perhaps foreshadowing what will eventually happen to both Paulie and Juno. Although they are in love with each other, eventually their incompatibility — revealed through the lyrics of “Tire Swing” — will catch up to them. The lyrics also resemble the relationship between Juno and her unborn child. Juno eventually has to give her child up for adoption despite their bond.
“So Nice So Smart” transitions into The Moldy Peaches’ “Anyone Else But You” as Juno goes into labor. The sentimental love song underlines Juno’s love for both Paulie and her newborn child. The elementary lyrics bring back an air of innocence, and the audience is once again reminded that Juno is still a child herself. Furthermore, the back and forth between the two vocalists exhibits the disconnect between Paulie and Juno.
The film closes by bringing back the same Moldy Peaches classic: Paulie and Juno grab their guitars and meet up to sing “Anyone Else But You.” The film ends with them singing the melody not separately, but together. Through music the two are finally connected, sharing a kiss before the credits roll.
Juno’s charm still holds up all these years later, largely thanks to its delightful soundtrack. Once you overcome several odd one-liners, the immersive simplicity of indie acoustics makes both the film and its soundtrack a pleasure to experience.
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