Drunk.
Follow Thundercat down the weird ass rabbit hole of inebriation; Drunk is a cool, funky jazz album that makes reference to Thundercat’s Motown and soul roots. Along for the journey are some of the most popular hip-hop artists of recent years: Kendrick Lamar, Wiz Khalifa and Pharrell Williams. The structure of the album gives the impression of a contemplative artist caught in a cycle of repetitive drunkenness; he begins drinking due to boredom on the opening track “Rabbot Ho”, and is resigned to depression by the closing “DUI”. Caught in this drunken stupor, Thundercat reflects on a number of complex issues that cause him to question his existence: systemic racism on “Jameel’s Space Ride”, humanity’s obsession with technology and social media on “Bus in These Streets” and romantic relationships such as on “Them Changes”. He further contemplates ways of escaping from his problems and the mundane routine on this fucked up world: musing on death on “Lava Lamp” and “Jethro”, considering the afterlife on “The Turn Down” and the apt decision that life would be infinitely easier and “cooler” as a cat on “A Fan’s Mail (Tron Song Suite II)”. Thundercat continues where he left off, having co-produced Kendrick’s To Pimp a Butterfly two years previously, with a hip-hop/jazz/funk/soul fusion album full of quick-fire bangers that maintain a solid gold groove throughout. The only negative is the imagery conjured of awful, American high school parties full of awful, American high school kids on the Wiz Khalifa collab “Drink Dat” that made me want to *insert unpleasant experience here*.
DAMN.
K-dot returns two years on from his seminal work, To Pimp a Butterfly, as Kung Fu Kenny on DAMN. While the former conveyed broad political concepts such as race and discrimination on a base of jazz, funk and soul, the latter is a more introspective experience utilising contemporary, mainstream genres such as trap and R&B; in doing so, Kendrick transforms himself from one of the most popular rappers in the world, to one of the most popular musicians. Still present however is his ability to form complex raps in a variety of styles, each track almost representing a different character or aspect of himself which he wishes to convey. Throughout DAMN Kendrick makes reference to religion, whether that be his own beliefs or through some biblical fable such as that found on the opening track “BLOOD”. Kendrick, as on Pimp, takes on a preacher role, but rather than telling of systemic racism and inequality, he becomes a preacher in a more traditional sense by delivering the word of God. He is, however, far from righteous. Hypocrisy recurs throughout: he pleads us to stay humble, even recollecting his years of poverty, before later idolising himself on “GOD”; his advocacy for gun control but his simultaneous consideration of murder, via firearm, for revenge on “XXX”; his professions of being devout while glorifying sins, found all through DAMN. Such inner conflict, along with tracks such as “FEAR”, where Kendrick recounts his crippling anxiety from experiences at 7, 17 and 27, drive the album into a dark, depressive place. A seriously different experience to Pimp; if pushed on which I prefer, I’d want the funk.
american dream.
I hadn’t listened to any LCD Soundsystem albums before now so I wasn’t sure what to expect, but having heard american dream, I’m glad I included it on the list for 2017. This new-wave/dance-punk/electronic-indie album is an eclectic mix of genres and lyrical themes, assembled into a superb sonic experience. The influences on producer/frontman, James Murphy, are heard throughout: Talking Heads punky art new-wave sound flows through album like a great river, the track “other voices” could easily be found on Heads’ Remain in Light; “tonite” is a funky New Order-esque, electronic post-punk satire of pop songs imploring listeners to embrace the moment; “how do you sleep?” is a sprawling poetic monologue, a la Nick Cave, condemning former colleague and friend Tim Goldworthy, accompanied by a progressive minimalist beat; the title-track “american dream” is reminiscent of something you would find on David Bowie’s Low. Bowie’s influence and memory reverberates through american dream, Murphy’s grief and regret following the death of his friend and mentor in 2016 are felt in “i used to” and the heartfelt ode “black screen”. Murphy also reflects on political tensions at the time, with Trump having been elected during recording, the ironic title of the album referring to a vision of a perfect America run by fascist white supremacists. american dream is an album for those who enjoy their new-wave and post-punk with a slight contemporary spin; if I didn’t know this album was released in 2017, I wouldn’t be able to place the decade let alone the year. Will consider more LCD Soundsystem going forward (or backward, however time travel works).
Utopia.
When I was deciding which albums to choose for 2017, there was a tossup between Björk’s Utopia and Venezuelan musician Arca’s self-titled record, Arca. As it turns out, Utopia is a collaboration between the two artists, with Arca involved in the compositional process from the very beginning. Björk has never been one to stagnate, musically, but Arca has encouraged her to further experiment on an album that takes the old breath away. Utopia is a unique sonic experience, mixing elements of multiple genres to create an ambient, folktronica record; heavy use of flute and birdsong give a wonderful sensation of nature, a blissful Eden. While the instrumentation may be experimental, Björk’s lyricism is far more familiar and relatable. Having chronicled her break up and divorce on her previous LP, Vulnicura, Utopia is more optimistic in its intentions. Björk discusses the thrill of new relationships on “Future Forever” and “Arisen My Senses”, while also remaining considerate about her potential partner and not wanting to force them into the sights of the worldwide media on the latter; though she has healed from her previous romantic relationship, she still reflects on the experience on “The Gate”, “Utopia” and “Losss”, and begs that her daughter not be left with any of the emotional baggage on “Tabula Rosa”. Utopia is a wonderful record. Unique musically. Sincere, heartfelt lyrics. Far from Debut but no less pleasing.
Sleep Well Beast.
“More of The National again soon please” was my request at the end of the review for Trouble Will Find Me, back when it was the turn of 2013. Four years later and The National’s next album, Sleep Well Beast, is on the airwaves. Their melancholic, yet profoundly beautiful form of indie rock is still a joy to hear and even has the ability to conjure emotions in a cold husk of a human such as myself. The elegant piano and intimate vocals have a way of penetrating you through to the core in a way few contemporary bands do. The National have experimented with their sound, however, since their last release: frequent use of drum machines gives almost a sense of downtempo drum and bass, particularly the track “I’ll Still Destroy You”; the track “Nobody Else Will Be There”, meanwhile, allows the piano to fully take over, becoming a sorrowful piano ballad in the process. The songwriting of Matt Berninger is superb once again, and largely contributes to the melancholic feel of the album. His poetic use of metaphor to describe stale, failing relationships and contemplation of the future is a recurring theme, while he also has time to touch upon his reaction to Trump’s election victory on the song “Turtleneck”. Depressingly relatable indie mopers. More of The National again soon please.