FLUX

articles about pop culture

Category: Uncategorized

Flower Duet

Considering the Fermi-Paradox (the fact that although space is infinite, we have yet to encounter  – in all its wide reaches – alien lifeforms), it seems highly possible that mankind is the only sentient race in existence. The only one capable of making art.

If this is true, then Flower Duet might be the most beautiful thing in all of space and time.*

*Disclaimer: this post may contain some bias. May.

 

 

Lynx
Cat
Deer

Podcast

I’ve been making some podcasts with the epic Kishan Baijnath.

We review movies. Sort of. Well, really we talk about whatever we find interesting, which is usually movies that everyone hates but we think are awesome. And about our gratitude for our most devoted listener: my dog, Domino.

Give it a listen. Because you’re awesome.

 

Kanye West Review: 808s and Heartbreak

808s and Heartbreak.jpg

 

When 808s and Heartbreak, Kanye West’s fourth album, came out, critics and fans alike were puzzled. It was a major departure from the maximalist rap of his previous three albums. In fact, the album featured no rapping by Kanye at all. Instead, he sang all his lyrics through a haze of mournful AutoTune.

People were confused, and rightfully so. It was a total stylistic overhaul. But was it a good one? Critics were divided, and the album received mixed reviews. Particularly irksome to Kanye, it was the first of his albums not to be nominated for the Grammy for Album of the Year.

The overall consensus was that it was the weakest album of his career.

Released in 2008 following the fallout of West’s relationship with Alexis Phifer and the death of his mother due to complications following elective surgery, 808s and Heartbreak is a mournful affair.

All – repeat: all – the lyrics concern heartache and betrayal, loss and hurt, at times bordering on monotony. It’s an album’s worth of Kanye wallowing, with little of his trademark boasting and witty wordplay.

And some of his champagne problems are grating. Lines like “My friend show me pictures of his kids/All I could show him was pictures of my cribs” come across as melodramatic and often corny.

Lyrically, it’s probably the weakest Kanye West album. The jokes are few and far between, often falling flat, and the constant sorrow gets old rather quickly – at times, to the point of being nearly unlistenable.

But what’s really interesting about the album isn’t its themes of heartbreak or it’s lyrical content, but its sound. AutoTune turns Kanye’s voice into a robotic croon. The sound of a man rendered less than human by loss.

The beats are minimalist and spare. The album predominantly features 808 drum sounds, but makes them seem hollow, depressive and spooky. The album sounds like a frozen wasteland of broken relationships.

And the sound is cavernous. 

That strange, Auto-Tuned opening chord on Say You Will? That was the sound of musical ground being broken.

The starkly emotional soundscapes of 808s and Heartbreak were so confusing and alienating to fans because they were arguably ahead of their time.

in 2008, AutoTune was just a novelty trick, a party gag that drew a lot of scorn from music audiences – relegated to a couple of tunes form T-Pain, but not much in the way of artistic merit.

But now, seven years later, AutoTune has proven not just to be a passing fad but a permanent fixture in modern music.  From Bon Iver to Frank Ocean, Vanpire Weekend to The actual Weeknd, AutoTune is everywhere – and more than that, a respected tool, a way of making emotions more urgent by making them the focus of the vocals.

All of these artists owe massive portions of their sound to 808s and Heartbreak. In the case of Drake and the Weeknd, they explicitly refer to it as a major blueprint for their entire careers.

And despite being his least well-written album, 808s and Heartbreak‘s emotional and introspective lyrics were a major leap forward in what rap could be. It was in many ways the opposite of the lyrical content of the then-dominant gangsta rap genre. And the trend ever since has been toward more introspective rap, at least on the pop charts, with artists like Drake, Future, Childish Gambino and Kid Cudi following in the footsteps of 808s and Heartbreak.

 

Kanye Heart.jpg

808s and Heartbreak is arguably the most influential body of pop music of the last 10 years. It’s DNA lives on in some of the new decade’s best albums: For Emma, Forever Ago; Channel Orange; Take Care; Beauty Behind the Madness; and others.

And influence is one of the few relatively objective ways of gauging an album’s worth. How influential a work is shows how it resonated with the really important audience: the next generation of creators.

And on that count, it’s easily Kanye’s most imitated work. A primary source.

It may have been a problematic album, and imperfect one, but it was groundbreaking. We just didn’t see it at the time.

How could we have been so heartless?

9/10.

 

 

 

 

Kanye West Review: Yeezus

00-Front.jpg

 

Which Kanye West album is the best?

Critics and fans are pretty much in agreement: Kanye’s fifth, record, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. It’s an opulent take on boom bap rap, featuring classical music, prog rock and dichotomous lyrics. In many ways, it’s the combination and culmination of the four albums that preceded it.

It’s a sprawling and dense work – songs often totally change tempo and direction, samples and guest appearances emerge out of nowhere and the record regularly dissolves into AutoTune-muffled wailing alongside complex melodies.

It’s greatness has been written about at length- it’s on Rolling Stone and NME’s lists of the greatest albums ever made, among others – to the point where it’s become a monolith of recent pop music.

Many critics cite it as a masterpiece, a watershed moment in hip hop: a hip hop album that was bigger than the genre containing it, one that cemented the genre’s place at the forefront of contemporary pop.

In short, Kanye’s most substantial achievement.

But recently I’ve been thinking maybe it isn’t the clear choice as Kanye’s best album. Lately, I’ve been fascinated with Kanye’s sixth album, his follow up to My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy: Yeezus.

Released in 2013, Yeezus is everything My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy isn’t. Minimalist, with a short running time at barely 40 minutes, unapologetic lyrics, and abrasive sounds.

If My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is hip hop’s Sergeant Pepper, then Yeezus is it’s White Album: a fragmented and experimental foray into new sounds.

The album is influenced by industrial noise, acid house and Chicago drill. It features Kanye rapping over harsh machine sounds – sirens, panted breaths, screams, audio hiss and distorted noise. It sounds alien and unsettling, and the lyrics are no lighter: Kanye raps (in short, meme-like bursts) about drugs and sex, consumer culture, modern day racism and of course his tons and tons of anger (at being shut out of the fashion world, among other things).

It’s Kanye without a social filter: an id speaking candidly, in the form of weaponized lyrics and near-terrifying punk rock beats.

The album is harsh, harsh, harsh. The sounds are barely music: dark howls and twisted synths. There are no catchy hooks, no sweet soul samples or melodic interludes.

But this isn’t just a a mess of noise. Each sound is calculated: no beat is unnecessary, no drum smash out of place.

But what’s most striking about the album is how different it is. Nothing sounds like Yeezus. It abandons typical song structures for insane experiments:

Hold My Liquor features Kanye rapping over nothing but silence and an occasional mechanical screech.

New Slaves contains one of the sparsest house beats ever – noises seemingly unlinked by melody, but in reality carefully crafted to fit together.

I’m In It, a dark and twisted song about Kanye’s sexual escapades, makes use of sirens and the chopped up sounds of porn stars moaning.

What’s amazing about Yeezus is that despite being so unorthodox, so abrasive, it’s so compelling. Typical pop music aims to draw you in through catchy hooks and enjoyable rhythms. Yeezus wants to beat you into submission.

Not every song works, and the album isn’t perfect. The reggae in the house track Send It Up feels out of place, Bound 2 takes a certain kind of mood to enjoy, and some lyrics (‘I be speaking Swaghili’) are less than Shakespearean.

But still, Yeezus seems determined to try new things at all times. It doesn’t care whether you or the Grammys like it. It’s experimental and bizarre, but that’s the sound of Kanye exploring uncharted soundscapes.

No other pop artist is making music this daring and weird. No other artist is pushing pop music to it’s limits to find where it can go next, like Kanye.

It’s too soon to tell, but Kanye may have written a new blueprint for what pop music can be with this record.

It achieves what great music sets out to do – engage the listener, effectively communicate it’s message – but it does it in a way that’s so new and miles above what any other musician is doing right now.

In conclusion:

Yeezus is a harsh-sounding, distorted mess of machine noise and horror sound effects.

A future classic.

10/10

 

 

 

 

 

Song Review: Drake – ‘Back to Back’

Diss tracks have long been a staple of hip hop, and the newest addition to the canon of great disses is Back to Back by Drake.

 

Back to Back is Drake’s second diss track targeted at fellow rapper Meek Mill, in response to diss tracks Meek Mill made about Drake, accusing him of using ghostwriters.

These tracks are the result of a drawn out feud between Drake and Meek Mill. Amongst other banal things, Meek Mill criticized Drake for being a singing rapper, mocking his emotional and introspective lyrics as being weak and soft.

Like all good feuds between rappers, this one was settled with a diss track battle.

Diss tracks have always been a part of hip hop – and an important one, at that, because they give rappers the opportunity to showcase their lyrical agility with a very clear goal in mind: the annihilation of their opponent.

From 2Pac’s Against All Odds to Eminem’s Sauce and Jay Z’s Super Ugly, diss tracks have often been amongst the most influential songs in rap’s history.

A good diss track should deal a killing blow – attacking its target’s deepest insecurities and manipulating them into a position where any further retaliation would just dig the enemy rapper’s grave even deeper.

In terms of this criteria, Drake’s Back to Back is undoubtedly one of the greatest diss tracks in the genre’s history.

The song’s features a ghostly, minimalist beat – incredibly simple, and full of brooding and restraint. We all know Drake’s a producer who can create complex beats, yet this one is stark and harsh. This actually makes it even stronger: it gives the ominous impression that Drake is holding back, that if he really wanted to he could be hitting Meek Mill with insanely opulent and sophisticated beats.

And, of course, the lyrics.

Back to Back succeeds so well as a diss track because it leaves Meek Mill no room to respond. The lyric ‘You’re getting bodied by a singing n****’ openly states that if Meek Mill loses this diss track battle or even tries to retaliate, he’s undermining his (Mill’s) previous statements that singing rappers are soft and weak. To call Drake soft, and then to be beaten by Drake, is to call himself even softer by comparison.

Even if Meek Mill makes another diss track against Drake, Drake implies that Meek Mill will, by doing so, acknowledge that a ‘singing rapper’ is good enough to make him feel threatened.

Drake also craftily suggests that this whole feud is beneath him (‘When I look back I might be mad that I gave this attention’) but then suavely assaults Meek Mill anyway.

His rhymes are slick and his flow highly proficient. There isn’t a stray word or phrase out of place.

Where Meek Mill’s diss tracks were sloppily crafted insult fests, Drake’s is a testament to the power of quality song-crafting and his studied approach to hip hop.

Furthermore, Back to Back marks a clear line in the sand: the era of gangsta rap is fading, and the time of the middle-class rapper with  real musical ability is very much upon us.

And it was announced this week that Back to Back is nominated for this year’s Grammy for Best Rap Performance: an unprecedented feat for a diss track.

Well played, Drake. Well played indeed.

Kanye West Review: Graduation

folder

 

Ah, Graduation.

Like a lot of Kanye West records, I have a strange relationship with this album. When it first came out, I was intrigued by some of the stand-out tracks: the Daft Punk-sampling Stronger and the relatively tame radio hit, Good Life. 

I found the rest of the album reasonably enjoyable, but puzzling and often at odds with itself. It was, in my opinion, a decent attempt at a good album, but not quite there: a mediocre one that could’ve been great.

And I was wrong.

With an artist like Kanye, you have to consider the album’s context.

Screw Death of the Author.

Graduation came out in 2007, Kanye’s third album following the 70s-soul inspired The College Dropout and the baroque, orchestral Late Registration.

The College Dropout and Late Registration were both widely acclaimed hip hop albums (both were nominated for the Grammy for Album of the Year) but were very much that: hip hop albums.

They featured an IMDB-page worth of well-established hip hop figures like NO I.D., Talib Kweli and Common, as well humorous skits between songs and a storytelling lyrical delivery.

This all changed with Graduation, because Graduation isn’t a hip hop album. Not really.

It’s a European synth-pop album.

From the synthesized vocals on album opener Good Morning to the robotic Stronger, the album crescendos and hums with with bright techno-infused synthpop. Drunk and Hot Girls, a creepy meditation on late-night lust, even samples German krautrock synth band Can’s song Sing Swan Song.

Like the European synth genre that influenced it, Graduation is full of delicate melodies and soft strings. It features Chris Martin on vocals, for God’s sake. It’s a fragile balance of sounds – one that sometimes caves when listened to in a loud setting – and that definitely benefits from being listened to late at night.

But what sounds they are.

The melodic vocal sample and techno groove of I Wonder (possibly one of the least-appreciated Kanye tracks) are unlike any other sound in hip hip, before or since. The dude’s rapping over the most beautiful melodies. 

The same is true for Can’t Tell Me Nothing and Everything I Am. It sounds a little weird sometimes – Kanye rapping about haters and stuntin’ over butterly-like strings and violins, for example – but this is genre-expanding stuff. It’s experimental in a way that Kanye’s previous albums weren’t.

When Graduation came out, it was an unprecedented sound for a rap album, which many people -even fans – disliked. But now that we know what would come after Graduation (the AutoTuned minimalism of 808s and Heartbreak, the boom bap maximalism  of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and the industrial noise of Yeezus) we can see that this was just Kanye beginning his new trend of experimenting with a new sound on each album.

It marks the real beginning of the Kanye West formula: rap lyrics + backing music not normally found in hip hop.

Even the lyrical style is very different from his previous two efforts. Where The College Dropout and Late Registration focused on a storytelling approach to rapping, with an emphasis on issues in middle class society, Graduation instead features short, quote-able bursts of of rap, much more similar to the stadium-rock verses of bands like U2. The lyrics here are much more introspective and – like all of Kanye’s best lyrics – are generally about Kanye.

And this new lyrical style is the one that’s stuck with and defined Kanye’s later sound. This minimalist rap technique can be heard in the simple but emotional verses in 808s and Heartbreak, in the rapid-fire boom bap of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and in the abrasive, assaulting, meme-spitting of Yeezus.

Graduation isn’t perfect. Homecoming falls rather flat, and Champion is melodramatic and repetitive. But even when the sounds of rap and melodic pop don’t quite work together, they’re still the sound of a man pushing musical boundaries. Graduation is the first Kanye album where we see the sonic innovator really at work, exploring new sounds and possibilities.

Some of these experiments don’t succeed, but when they do they’re spectacular. The Glory is an electro-soul powerhouse. Barry Bonds has one of the darkest and grooviest beats of Kanye’s career.

And it can’t be denied that this album was influential. The rise of techno-inspired and introspective hip hop in the late 2000s is a testament to that.

So, in conclusion:

Graduation is a flawed masterpiece. It’s yet another example of Kanye breaking hip hop’s barriers and attempting to create new pop soundscapes.

It’s by turns melodic and melodramatic, sophisticated and over-the-top. Often alienating and hard to listen to, sometimes irresistibly sharp and well-made.

It’s a genius album that’s completely bizarre and ridiculous.

How very Kanye.

9/10.

 

 

 

 

Kanye West

 

Kanye West: occasionally great, often idiotic. Always compelling.

But is he a genius?

Over the next few weeks I’ll be taking a look at some of Kanye West’s albums, and trying to find an answer.

 

Hurry up with my damn croissants.