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teamwerk · 6 years ago

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TOP 100 TRACKS OF THE TEENS

[play on Spotify]

100. PTAF: Boss Ass Bitch

99. Dreamville f/ JID, Earthgang, Buddy & Guapdad 4000: Wells Fargo

98. Rustie: Surph

97. Deloran: Stay Close

96. Shawn Wasabi f/ Raychel Jay: Squeez

95. Tree: Probably Nu It

94. Kelly Rowland f/ Lil Wayne: Motivation

93. Kevin Gates: 2 Phones

92. (Sandy) Alex G: Promise

91. Lillie Mae: You’ve Got Other Girls for That

90. Dirty Projectors: Little Bubble

89. Vampire Weekend: White Sky

88. Paul Simon: Rewrite

87. Bibio: You

86. Ghostface f/ Danny Brown: Six Degrees

85. Gang Gang Dance: Adult Goth

84. Migos f/ Drake: Versace (Remix)

83. Rich Homie Quan: Type of Way

82. Beyonce: Hold Up

81. Jessie Ware: Sweet Talk

80. Ari Lennox: Up Late

79. Lee Fields & the Expressions: Will I Get Off Easy

78. Rihanna f/ Kanye West & Paul McCartney: FourFiveSeconds

77. Makeunder: In Between My Dead-End Jobs

76. Toro y Moi: Ordinary Pleasure

75. Disclosure f/ Sam Smith, Nile Rodgers & Jimmy Napes: Together

74. Solange f/ Sampha: Don’t Touch My Hair

73. Chris Brown: Fine China

72. Mitski: Nobody

71. The Beths: Happy Unhappy

70. Spencer Owen: Deserve You More

69. Vince Staples: Norf Norf

68. P-Lo: Put Me on Something

67. Todd Terje: Inspector Norse

66. After 7: Runnin’ Out

65. Cam: Burning House

64. Katy B: Katy on a Mission

63. Ciara: Body Party

62. Kanye West: Bound 2

61. Rihanna: Needed Me

60. Nardeydey: Freefallin

59. Sophie: Bipp

58. Famous Dex f/ A$AP Rocky: Pick it Up

57. Chief Keef: Love Sosa

56. Young M.A.: OOOUUU

55. Toro y Moi: Low Shoulders

54. Frank Ocean: Sweet Life

53. Faye Webster: Room Temperature

52. Grimes: Genesis

51. Azelia Banks: 212

50. Carly Rae Jepsen: Now That I Found You

49. Major Lazer f/ Amber Coffman: Get Free

48. YG f/ Lil Wayne, Rich Homie Quan, Meek Mill & Nicki Minaj: My Nigga (Remix)

47. Princess Nokia: Tomboy

46. Jai Paul: BTSU

45. Amber Mark: Mixer

44. Thundercat: Them Changes

43. D’Angelo: Sugah Daddy

42. Kacey Musgraves: High Horse

41. Skylar Spence: Bounce is Back

40. Carly Rae Jepsen: Boy Problems

39. Beyonce: Blow

38. Robyn: Call Your Girlfriend

37. PLANNINGTOROCK: Misogyny Drop Dead

36. Cardi B: Bodak Yellow

35. Young Thug f/ Maceo: Picacho

34. Kanye West f/ Chance the Rapper & Kelly Price: Ultralight Beam

33. Charles Bradley: Changes

32. Dirty Projectors: Impregnable Question

31. Deerhunter: Basement Scene

30. King Krule: A Lizard State

29. Ty Segall: Girlfriend

28. Tune-Yards: Bizness

27. Solange: Binz

26. Mac DeMarco: Chamber of Reflection

25. Ariel Pink: Round and Round

24. Fiona Apple: Valentine

23. Chairlift: Polymorphing

22. Solange: Don’t Let Me Down

21. Rich Gang f/ Young Thug & Rich Homie Quan: Lifestyle

20. S.O.B. x R.B.E. f/ Kendrick Lamar: Paramedic!

19. Drake & Future: Jumpman

18. Disclosure f/ Sam Smith: Latch

17. Christine & the Queens f/ Dam Funk: Girlfriend

16. Beyoncé f/ Andre 3000: Party

15. Big Boi f/ Gucci Mane: Shine Blockas

14. Juicy J f/ Lil Wayne & 2 Chainz: Bandz a Make Her Dance

13. Kendrick Lamar: Alright

12. Frank Ocean: Thinkin Bout You

11. Danny James, Etc: Without Reluctance

10. Angel Olsen: Forgiven/Forgotten

9. Dirty Projectors: I Feel Energy

8. Beyonce: Countdown

7. Drake: No Tellin

6. Kelela: Bank Head

5. James Blake: CMYK

4. Snail Mail: Heat Wave

3. Jamie xx f/ Young Thug & Popcaan: I Know There’s Gonna Be (Good Times)

2. Kamaiyah: How Does it Feel

1. Robyn: Dancing on My Own

#decade #decade end #decade end lists #end of decade #top tracks #top songs #best tracks #best songs #top tracks of the teens #best songs of the teens #best of the decade #best of lists

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teamwerk · 6 years ago

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WHY I LOVE LISTS

A dear friend recently told me he couldn’t do numerical rankings anymore, instead preferring a more flexible tiered system, since the difference between a song being the 77th or 82nd best of the decade was pretty arbitrary and insignificant. And while that’s true, it hits at the core of why I love numerical rankings:

BECAUSE THEY ARE ARBITRARY AS SHIT.

Despite the amount of effort a publication like Pitchfork or Rolling Stone puts into promoting their year-end or decade-end lists, the truth is that none of this shit matters. Art is so subjective, it’s impossible to land on anything approaching definitive, and that’s okay! Good, even! Tastes are fluid! A record that felt like it was the best of a given year may not even make the cut for a Top 100 of the Decade, because we experience art differently at different times in our lives.

Of course, none of this is novel. We all know this, but when it comes time to make a list we start to panic – what if I rank something too high? Too low? I’d venture a guess that in this Age of Internet Receipts, we’re reticent to declare anything too strongly, lest it be proven wrong in the future. But to me, that’s precisely why rankings matter. Because they’re not meant to be monuments. They’re meant to be a time capsule, a balance sheet, a snapshot of a particular moment.

I love lists. I love the process of systematically revisiting everything I deem worthy and obsessively combing through and comparing it to everything else. I love ordering the list and then compulsively going back and re-ordering it a million times before it feels final. I love the way old shit hits you in new ways you’d never expect, and how something you’d considered a classic suddenly sounds boring with a couple years of perspective. I love reading my own lists and laughing, like – damn, Patrick, you really thought that YACHT record was better than Destroyer’s, huh? I love reading other people’s lists, trying to suss out where our tastes overlap and what I should check out.

Lists are absolutely stupid and subjective and arbitrary and I fucking love them.

******

THE FINE PRINT:

a) In an alternate dimension, there’s of this list which, while possibly more accurate, is also super boring because it has like 20 Beyonce songs, 30 Drake songs, half of ANTI, half of TLOP, all of TPAB… but that’s not the point of the list! The point is to chronicle stuff I’ve loved and share it and hopefully have some conversations with y’all about stuff contained within. So. In the interest of variety, I tried to limit myself to a max of 4 or 5 songs (across both playlists) from a single artist.

b) Also, since I’m designing this ranking as a Spotify playlist, I may have fudged a couple rankings up or down a couple slots to improve the listener experience.

c) It doesn’t matter that I did that because this list is 100% infallible. I’d love to talk to any of you about any of these artists but I’m not interested in debating whether something should be ranked higher than another thing because again: it doesn’t matter. If I did this project again two months from now, it would look completely different. But THIS list, posted on THIS day, is exactly perfect and correct.

d) Since I’m using Spotify as the vehicle to share this list, there are a number of things that are excluded simply because they’re not on the platform. That’s unfortunate but whatever. Here are some of the notable snubs:

Joanna Newsom: Have One On Me (should probably be around #40)

Both Das Racist mixtapes (both would rank in the top 25 – they were super duper important to me when they dropped)

The Himanshu (solo) track “Womyn” (top 50)

SAINT PEPSI’S MASTERPIECE, HIT VIBES (easily top 20, if not higher)

Also probably at least one other Saint Pepsi record, be it Gin City (probably in the 70s somewhere) or Mannequin Challenge (top 50)

Jay-Z’s 4:44 (40ish)

The RL Grime remix of “Love Sosa,” which I love even more than the original, and which would rank around 25

Mystikal’s “Hit Me,” which has righteous James Brown vibes, was released and then pulled almost immediately (no idea why), but which should rightly be top 10

e) I haven’t sat with the 2019 selections enough to really have a sense of their position historically, so they’re kind of sprinkled all over the place. (This will all surely make more sense when I post my 2019 year-end lists.)

Okay! I think I’ve word vomited enough. Now let’s let ‘er rip…..

#decade #best of the decade #decade end lists #decade end #end of the decade #decade wrapup

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teamwerk · 7 years ago

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Best Albums of 2018

BEST ALBUMS 2018

20. Noname: Room 25

19. Jeremih & Ty Dolla $ign: Mih-Ty

18. Tierra Whack: Whack World

17. Parks Burton: Pare

16. Oneohtrix Point Never: Age Of

15. Angelique Kidjo: Remain in Light

14. Shannon Shaw: Shannon in Nashville

13. Curren$y & Freddie Gibbs: Fetti

12. Ariana Grande: Sweetener

11. Vince Staples: FM!

10. DJ Koze: Knock Knock

9. Mariah Carey: Caution

8. Courtney Barnett: Tell Me How You Really Feel

7. The Carters: Everything is Love

6. Snail Mail: Lush

5. Shannon & the Clams: Onion

4. Teyana Taylor: K.T.S.E.

3. Kacey Musgraves: Golden Hour

2. Blood Orange: Negro Swan

1. Dirty Projectors: Lamp Lit Prose

(Spotify playlist)

(Capsule reviews of Top 10 below)

10. DJ Koze: Knock Knock. The music writing trope of “a sounds like b + c” is as lazy as it is played, but sometimes you hear a record and those type of comparisons spring to mind, like when I first heard Saint Pepsi’s Hit Vibes and instantly thought of J Dilla making a disco record. That was also my response to Knock Knock, which sounds like the Avalanches making a more patient update of Since I Left You for 2018 ears. The record is long and lush, and draws from roughly nine billion different aesthetics, but its particular mélange still manages to sound fresh. As with SILY, the album is best experienced as a complete piece of music (though several tracks, such as “Lord Knows” and “Scratch That” would sound great in a mix or DJ set). Knock Knock takes the listener through ambling pathways that wrap around and revisit each other, like an evening stroll through the spacious Joshua Tree National Park depicted on its cover. It’s nearly a two-hour journey, but it’s well worth the price of admission.

9. Mariah Carey: Caution. Mariah got a dirty mouth and I’m here for it. As mother, a twice-divorcée, a woman nearing 50, her work and her image are all her own; if she wants to include the word “fuck” in a bunch of songs on her new album (“GTFO,” “With You,” “The Distance”), then who the fuck are we to tell her no? It’s a refreshing twist from someone whose public persona is often so curated, but I’m burying the lede. The real story here is that Caution is a batch of excellent R&B songs from one of the genre’s all-time greats. It’s not overwrought – by contrast, the album’s sultry blue cover art is indicative of the moods within. The Ty Dolla $ign-featuring “The Distance” is laid extremely deep in the cut, assisted by some subtle production from Poo Bear, Lido and—holy shit, Skrillex? Yup, and like Mariah herself, everyone involved uses an even hand and measured patience to let each song breathe.

A personal highlight for me is “A No No,” which flips the Lil Kim/Lil Cease classic “Crush On You” on its head. Here, where Biggie intones “he’s a slut, he’s a hoe, he’s a freak/got a different girl every day of the week,” there is no irony intended. She gauges her suitors’ intent and responds simply: “that’s a no-no.” In fact, the word “no” accounts for easily half the song’s lyrics, but it’s still a blast on subsequent listens. But don’t get it twisted – highlights abound herein, from aforementioned singles “GTFO” and “The Distance” to the thoughtful, expansive, Dev Hynes-helmed “Giving Me Life,” which begins as a downtempo club hit and morphs into a surrealist dream. Mariah Carey is one of the artists who’s been in my life the longest – I’m so happy she’s still killing it.

8. Courtney Barnett: Tell Me How You Really Feel. Courtney Barnett is what I was raised to believe an indie rock star should be: an unassuming, smart slacker with regular clothes and the ability to unleash earthbound poetry and atmosphere-puncturing solos with equal aplomb. That effortless cool permeates every facet of her work, from her casual half-singing style to her loose but proficient playing, a mighty guitar god in the body of a humble 31-year-old. (That she recorded a collaborative record with renowned cool guy Kurt Vile should surprise no-one.) But what’s really striking about Barnett’s work is her wryly observant lyrics; whether she’s describing the banalities of urban life (“City Looks Pretty”) or eviscerating toxic masculinity (“Nameless, Faceless”), her keen eye and incisive wit pervade every line. Tell Me is the sound of a strong artist getting stronger.

7. The Carters: Everything is Love. I often say that as I get older, my favorite elements of songwriting are editing and restraint. That’s why I tend to hate double albums and love EPs. I just believe that most double albums would be better if distilled down to one really strong record. EPs, on the other hand, leave the listener wanting more. Such is the case with Everything is Love, which reads like a Beyonce trap record with a number of guest verses from Jay. Regardless of speculation on who did the lion’s share of the writing on the record, both are in top form. Bey’s signature vocal virtuosity is on display as ever, but the real delight is in her capable delivery as a rapper. She glides effortlessly through triplets like “Poppin, I’m poppin, my bitches are poppin, we go to the dealer and cop it all.” Big Sean could never. Meanwhile, Jay turns in a few of my favorite bars of the year (and also a very slick Drake diss) on “Boss:”

“You not a boss, you got a boss. N*ggas gettin’ jerked, that shit hurts, I take it personaly. N*ggas’d rather work for the man than to work for me. Just so they can pretend they on my level, that shit is irkin’ to me. Pride always goeth before the fall, almost certainly. It’s disturbing what I gross. Survey says: you not even close. Everybody’s bosses till the time to pay for the office, till them invoices separate the men from the boys. Over here we measure success by how many people successful next to you. Here, we say you broke if everybody is broke except for you. BAWSE.”

I don’t know if they intend to release more records as The Carters, but Everything is Love is a fun, successful experiment.

6. Snail Mail: Lush. There’s no reason for a debut LP to be this good. The record, from solo project-turnt-band of 19-year-old Lindsay Jordan is focused, clever, and sophisticated. Every component of these songs appears exactly as it should. Jordan’s songwriting is clean and incisive (“I hope whoever it is holds their breath around you/’cause I know I did,” she sings on album standout “Heat Wave”). The arrangements are smartly simple; seldom do they deviate from the four-person rock lineup, so the embellishments that are included (the French horn on “Deep Sea,” the layered keys on “Speaking Terms”) really leap out. The playing throughout is lovely, with Jordan’s beautiful guitar technique front and center (the finger-picking on “Let’s Find an Out” is a particular delight). Everything in its right place – only where Radiohead’s inward gaze can be mopey and self-indulgent, the core strength of Lush is its efficiency. There’s no filler here – just the exact amount of support that each piece requires. The drumming feels especially strong in this regard – there’s an economic directness in Ray Brown’s playing that prioritizes the backbeat over everything, including his ego. The fills that he does include are modest and workmanlike.

It’s right that the record would be released by Matador, because these songs are drenched in the influences of the 90s slacker rock of Yo La Tengo, Sonic Youth, Sleater-Kinney and Sebadoh. And as with each of those bands, Snail Mail’s songs are buoyed by excellent lyrics. Jordan doesn’t just sound wise beyond her years, she actually seems to have lived more in her 19 years than many folks twice her age. There’s a subtext of sobriety in some of the songs (“It just feels like the same party every weekend, doesn’t it?” on “Pristine,” or “I’m so tired of moving on/spending every weekend so far gone” on “Heat Wave”). Perhaps the self-reflection that’s required in recovery has helped to distill her worldview.

And look, I don’t mean to be patronizing here – this album would be a major achievement from any person of any age. But to hear an artistic vision this crystal clear and laser-focused from a 19-year-old is something truly special. I can’t wait to hear what she does next.

5. Shannon & the Clams: Onion. Upon first listen, Onion struck me as the best record the Clams have released to date. Now, admittedly, I’m a sucker for keyboards, and the inclusion of organist Will Sprott is pure Patrick-bait. But beyond my own tastes, the organ both fills out and anchors the Clams’ garage doo-wop sound. There’s a welcome succinctness to Onion: the songwriting is tight, the guitar playing is melodic and utilitarian, and the vocal performances from both Cody and Shannon are more technically refined than in any of their previous outings. One wonders if Shannon’s work on her own solo album (the very good, Dan Auerbach-produced Shannon in Nashville, which also came out this year) pushed her to improve her technique. And don’t get it fucked up – this is still a Clams record. It’s still shaggy and loud and rambunctious – but they’ve worked hard to reign in their wildest tendencies. Some might say that it’s layered, just like-- *an oversized cane hooks around my throat and drags me offstage* ….Well…..let’s just say it’s good.

4. Teyana Taylor: KTSE. Of all the seven-song mini-albums Kanye produced in Wyoming this year, KTSE is both the best and the least talked-about. She arrives seemingly out of the blue, a fully-formed artist who knows her strengths exactly. She has bars when she feels like spitting them, a beautiful husky alto when she feels like crooning, and a profound connection to multiple styles of club music that’s borne of her history as a dancer. It’s become a bit trendy to nod to vogue & ballroom culture in the last few years, but while Drake’s Big Freedia feature on “Nice for What” feels a little forced, Taylor can walk it like she talks it. A dancer by trade, her comfort in the ballroom is palpable.

Ye keeps it simple, remaining comfortably in his wheelhouse and flipping excellent soul samples such as Billy Stewart’s “I Do Love You” (which he repurposes into a nostalgic 4/4 slapper on “Hold On”) and The Stylistics’ “Because I Love You, Girl” (which he expands into a melancholy mediation on the horn section of the original). It’s a welcome return to form.

3. Kacey Musgraves: Golden Hour. In her SNL performance earlier this year, Kacey Musgraves appeared as a flat-ironed, longhair disco queen. As she slayed Golden Hour’s catchy lead single “High Horse,” I was reminded of Dolly Parton. I’ve been spending a lot of time with Dolly’s mid-70s and early-80s catalogue this past year, having purchased vinyl copies of All I Can Do, New Harvest…First Gathering, and Dolly, Dolly, Dolly. Parton is one of those artists whose discographies are so gigantic as to seem practically impenetrable, so I’ve been trying to hear as much as I can. Dolly, Dolly, Dolly is an especially interesting entry: released in 1980, it was her 23rd album, and it represents a pretty clear swing for crossover success. A handful of the tracks are straight-up disco, and these are what Musgraves called to mind. I was thrilled – Dolly’s disco experiments were widely panned, but I think there’s a lot of good there, maybe Golden Hour would be an attempt to vindicate Parton’s vision?

Unfortunately or not, I was incorrect. In total, Golden Hour bears more resemblance to Dolly’s friend & frequent collaborator Emmylou Harris (Kacey’s hair should’ve tipped me off, SMH). It’s a beautiful, understated, and thoughtful set of songs that could fit as well on a folk radio station as a country one. Like Harris, Musgraves has an innate sense of how to let a great song be great, hanging back in both arrangement and vocal performance. She’s emotive when she needs to be (“Rainbow”), and contemplative as needed (“Golden Hour”), always letting her writing breathe. Also, she has the confidence to bury the lead single so deep on Side B that you almost forget it’s there (and are thrilled when it is). As a person who prefers the full album experience to that of a shuffled playlist, this is one of my very favorite tricks.

Quite simply: great songs + great arrangements = a surprising list-topper for me.

2. Blood Orange: Negro Swan. For years, the roles of sexuality and gender in black identity have been foci of Dev Hynes’ work as Blood Orange. He spent time with drag queens and sex workers while writing his debut album Coastal Grooves, and has often cited transgender icon Octavia St. Laurent as one of his primary influences. But while these interests have colored his previous albums, on Negro Swan they’re the bedrock. In a press release preceding the album, Hynes described the album as “an exploration into my own and many types of black depression, an honest look at the corners of black existence, and the ongoing anxieties of queer/people of color. A reach back into childhood and modern traumas, and the things we do to get through it all. The underlying thread through each piece on the album is the idea of hope, and the lights we can try to turn on within ourselves with a hopefully positive outcome of helping others out of their darkness.”

These ideas are fundamental to the songwriting, and they’re reinforced by snippets of conversations with Janet Mock and Kai the Black Angel (who adorns the cover in a durag and angel wings) peppered throughout the album’s 49 minutes. On “Family,” Mock defines community as “the spaces where you don’t have to shrink yourself, where you don’t have to pretend or to perform, you can fully show up and be vulnerable in silence, completely empty, and that’s completely enough.” That search for community, the desire to be seen and loved and supported as your whole self informs each of these beautiful songs. Already a competent producer, Hynes continues to grow, selecting beautiful flourishes like the jangly, perfectly out-of-tune guitar on “Charcoal Baby” or the soft, echoing snare drum on “Dagenham Dream” to characterize the thematic content of each piece. Negro Swan is a powerful and complete work of art. It sounds like he’s finally found some answers to the questions he’s been asking.

1. Dirty Projectors: Lamp Lit Prose. On Lamp Lit Prose, David Longstreth appears to be having more fun making music than he has in years, probably because almost 100% of his band has turned over (kudos to longtime bassist Nat Baldwin, whose playing tethers him to his own beginnings). Beyond the new Projectors themselves, Longstreth spent the months during the writing of the album making new friends in the LA music scene, and bringing them around the studio to record various parts. Members of Haim contribute to album standout “That’s a Lifestyle,” Syd (of The Internet) anchors the refrain in “Right Now,” and Fleet Foxes’ Robin Pecknold and Vampire Weekend alumnus Rostam Batmanglij stack harmonies onto the swirling ballad “You’re The One.”

I see LLP as the second half of a diptych begun by the self-titled Dirty Projectors, released last year. While that record wallowed in the pain of a broken relationship with former Projector Amber Coffman, LLP reveals a healed and newly in love protagonist. Both records feature David Longstreth at his most vocally competent: he’s now able to truly execute the melismatic R&B runs he lovingly wrote and charmingly attempted in his earliest work, his diaphragm now supports his every leap and bound, and his croon is sweeter than ever before. But furthermore, both albums expand on ideas that have popped up throughout his illustrious and impressive body of work. Whether he’s reviving the Rise Above era blasts of noisy guitars on “Zombie Conqueror” or revisiting the orchestral ambitions of The Getty Address on the stunningly soulful “I Wanna Feel It All,” Longstreth sounds like a worker with a complete toolbox and a detailed blueprint. He’s been working at honing his craft for years.

I saw the Projectors in June, at a time when only “Break-Thru” and “That’s a Lifestyle” had leaked. I didn’t know what to expect, being among the seemingly small minority of fans who liked their previous record. But their set was staggering. Flanked by his group of mostly-new faces, Longstreth was bouncing all over the place, proudly showcasing each instrumentalist & vocalist (seemingly everyone had at least one moment in the spotlight), visibly excited about playing with this group of people. And that makes sense: LLP is Longstreth relishing the fundamental glee of musical collaboration. The joy is positively bubbling over in tracks like “Right Now,” “I Feel Energy,” and “I Found it in You.” To see him play these songs live is to wonder if he’s talking about the act of musicmaking itself when he sings: “Ask now, I’m in love for the first time ever.”

#best of 2018 #best albums #best albums of 2018 #year end lists

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teamwerk · 7 years ago

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Best Songs of 2018

BEST SONGS 2018

20. H.E.R.: As I Am

19. Mozzy f/ Kae One: Big Facts

18. Parks Burton: Don’t Stare

17. Ariana Grande: Successful

16. The Beths: Happy Unhappy

15. Shannon & the Clams: If You Could Know

14. Kelela f/ Princess Nokia, Junglepussy, Cupcakke & Ms. Boogie: LMK (What’s Really Good Remix)

13. Kacey Musgraves: High Horse

12. The Mixtapers: Flowers

11. Cuco f/ Clairo: Drown

10. Shawn Wasabi f/ Raychel Jay: Squeez

9. Teyana Taylor: Hurry

8. YG f/ 2 Chainz, Big Sean & Nicki Minaj: Big Bank

7. Blood Orange: Charcoal Baby

6. Famous Dex f/ A$AP Rocky: Pick It Up

5. Mitski: Nobody

4. Christine & the Queens f/ Dām Funk: Girlfriend

3. SOB x RBE f/ Kendrick Lamar: Paramedic!

2. Dirty Projectors: I Feel Energy

1. Snail Mail: Heat Wave

(Spotify playlist)

(Capsule reviews of the top ten below)

10. Shawn Wasabi f/ Raychel Jay: “Squeez.” Shawn Wasabi is a techstep producer from Salinas, CA with an apparent fixation on food themes (“Otter Pop,” “Marble Soda” and “Burnt Rice” are his top songs on Spotify). As for Raychel Jay, the only other track I can find of hers is an awful, twee ukulele ditty called “I don’t like U.” On “Squeez,” the two pair up for a track that sounds like PC Music producing Charli XCX, all bubblegum glitch and giggly, spoken raunch. It’s glossy as hell, like American K-pop, with a beat that sinks its fangs deep in your brain and sucks away your ability to be critical of its over-the-top cheese. With just enough quirk from its unique squeaky-fiddle coda, it’s simple, saccharine pop music junk food at its finest.

9. Teyana Taylor: “Hurry.” Taylor’s 7-song record went double wood this year for reasons completely unbeknownst to me. As far as I’m concerned, she’s a part of a recent wave of artists trying to bring real, soulful R&B back to the top of the pops. “Hurry” is a great example of this, featuring a soft and understated beat by Kanye, Mike Dean and BoogzDaBeast, a beautifully controlled vocal performance from Taylor herself, and a groove steady enough to ride off into the sunset. Kanye also turns in his only verse of the record, which is surprisingly good by 2018 Kanye standards. The whole album clocks in at 23 minutes, so it’s an easy one to run back, but “Hurry”’s got replay value far beyond that. Why the charts didn’t agree with me is up for debate.

8. YG f/ 2 Chainz, Big Sean & Nicki Minaj: “Big Bank.” I don’t like Big Sean. If you search my twitter name and the word “Sean” (you can’t search for “Big Sean” because I used to call him Small Sean or Smedium Sean a lot because I am very witty and cool), you’ll find dozens of slanderous tweets with me criticizing his often-terrible flow. Still, even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes. He’s in top form for most of his verse, dropping gems like “I’m rare as affordable healthcare/or going to wealth from welfare,” but he can’t stop himself from ruining an otherwise great verse with the abysmal final couplet “3 coins, that’ll pay your whole semester/but you gotta ride it better than a Tesla,” which literally means absolutely nothing. Then Nicki hops on for a verse that’s mostly her saying “back again” like 400x. If neither of those two can tank this beat, you know it’s gotta be hard as hell.

7. Blood Orange: “Charcoal Baby.” I wrote a lot about the subject matter of Negro Swan in my little blurb about it in my Best Albums writeup so I won’t regurgitate that here, but suffice it to say that “Charcoal Baby” is its centerpiece. It’s only right, then, that the record’s name comes from its lyrics. “No-one wants to be the odd one out at times/no-one wants to be the negro swan. Can you break sometimes?” The pathos and anxiety that color a lot of the record are underlined here by my absolute favorite sound on the album, the beautifully out-of-tune guitar. Because Dev Hynes is a smart producer, he balances warbling licks by embedding them in an ocean of vaporwave synths. As the track reaches its end, he puts a bow on it with a staccato saxophone riff that begs for replays. I’m more than happy to oblige.

6. Famous Dex f/ A$AP Rocky: “Pick It Up.” I’m gonna give you this information right up front because I didn’t have it when I fell in love with this song: Famous Dex is a woman-beating pile of shit. When this came to light in 2018, he was alleged to have pointed a gun at a number of UC Irvine students after they petitioned to have him removed from a show he had been scheduled to perform at the school. So….not great. But at the time when I heard it, this was just a silly, cartoonish romp over a burbling beat with a nursery rhyme melody and some of the funniest braggadocio of the year (“I’m whippin the wrist; I’m fuckin your bitch and I’m up in your fridge”). It’s a saccharine, addictive beat, and unlike with Kodak Black’s “Zeze,” I didn’t know about the scumminess of its progenitor until it was burrowed deep into both my subconscious and my Spotify play counts. Flame me, drag me, cancel me… I throw myself at the mercy of the internet courts.

5. Mitski: “Nobody.” I didn’t know I missed Stereolab until I heard “Nobody,” the best song on Mitski’s critically beloved Be the Cowboy. The four-on-the-floor disco groove, the lounge lizard piano, the arpeggiating melody and plain, unadorned vocal are all pulled straight from the Stereolab playbook. But unlike those elements that recall Dots and Loops, Mitski’s sardonic delivery of these deeply emotional lyrics is all 2018. The mission statement is clear from the song’s first three seconds: a sustained piano chord rings out as Mitski almost speaks: “My god, I’m so lonely.” That the song is so fun, danceable, and relentlessly catchy while being a paean to pain is a perfect articulation of our detached, laughing-to-keep-from-crying internet existence. Add a “Love On Top” number of key changes to wrap it all up and you’ve got one of the absolute peaks of this year in music.

4. Christine & the Queens f/ Dam Funk: “Girlfriend.” The young LA funk kingpin Dam Funk produced “Girlfriend” and it shows. His syrupy synths and laser 808 drums are all over the place, and the catchiest keyboard solo of the year wraps up the song’s last minute, but it never feels like his track. Instead, French dance guru Héloïse Letissier (better known as the Christine of Christine & the Queens) dominates end to end. With her thick French accent and aggressively syncopated delivery, you may miss some of the year’s best lyrics (“Boys are loading their arms, girls gasp with envy/F-For whom are they mocking endlessly?”), but what you do catch is Letissier’s powerhouse personality. Dabbling with a butch, gender-fluid persona called Chris (also the name of her album), she sputters and spits at every hater and judgement she encounters. The whole record is strong but “Girlfriend” is its clear standout. I dare you to listen without grooving.

3. SOB x RBE f/ Kendrick Lamar: “Paramedic!” Although I had the pleasure of seeing Black Panther at the Grand Lake Theater in Oakland the week before its release, I did not become aware of the soundtrack’s best song until I saw it as the backdrop for this incredible Ysabelle Capitule routine. The YouTube clip was shot at a convention in Santa Clara, and the crowd encircling the dancers seem as hype about the song as they are about the choreography itself. When the routine reaches its climax with the line “Fist in the air, I ain’t finna put my hands up” I lost my mind along with the rest of the onlookers. But long before that I was hooked by the track, instantly recognizable as the work of a Bay Area artist. The dancing, the crowd, the beat, the delivery of emcee Slimmy B— the Bay is bleeding through every part of this video. The sound of Bay Area rap is colored by some of the most inimitable flows of anyone, ever: the likes of E-40, Yukmouth, Messy Marv, Mac Dre, Lil B… these are people with cartoon character personalities who are as likely to cut you as they are to pass you the blunt. SOB x RBE are from Vallejo, and they were baptized in the waters of Mac Dre and E-40 at a very young age. That Kendrick selected them to participate in the soundtrack of one of the biggest movies of the year is a testament to their artistic value as well as that of their rap legend forefathers. Their two 2018 records, Gangin’ and Gangin’ II are both great, but for me, nothing slaps harder than “Paramedic!” Get familiar, these young bloods are on that next shit.

2. Dirty Projectors f/ Amber Mark: “I Feel Energy.” Of the many collaborators on Lamp Lit Prose, Amber Mark is maybe the least-known, but she’s also probably the best suited to Longstreth’s tastes. A strong, unique singer and beatsmith, her artful R&B sounds like the exact expression of what has driven and inspired him since he first started making music. This year, their surprise partnership produced the most surprising song of the year, the addictive and endlessly fun “I Feel Energy.” These are words I never thought I’d write, but: it’s basically Dirty Projectors doing a Michael Jackson song. For years, Longstreth has pledged allegiance to the female voice, citing Beyonce as a primary influence and surrounding himself with powerful female musicians, but the grit he adds when he spits “sometimes I get so depressed, and I just can’t move/don’t cry- they’ll make you feel like you’re dead, and it’s never gonna improve” is pure King of Pop. Mark provides the response to Longstreth’s call, balancing his climbing vocals with the high-flying clouds for which they strive. The tricky, polyrhythmic bassline is answered likewise by horns that sound unmistakably like the marching band of an HBCU. Fun details abound, adding up to a formula for pure earworm excellence.

1. Snail Mail: “Heat Wave.” Every now and then you hear a song that’s perfect in every way. And sometimes you can’t even articulate what elevates it beyond the realm of “really good,” but in your heart you just know how it makes you feel. “Heat Wave” was like that for me this year. A wistful, breezily melancholic ode to love lost, it’s packed full of quotable couplets: “Heat wave, nothing to do/woke up in my clothes having dreamt of you,” “Passing faces where you’ve been/same old world you’ve been sleepin’ in,” “I hope that the love that you find/swallows you wholly, like you said it might.” These lines are casually poetic, articulating the exact feeling of being stuck in limbo between writing off an ex and holding onto your love for them. Underneath it all is a top-shelf band who knows just how to propel a piece forward without getting in its way, the most tastefully loose crunchy guitars and perfectly-placed drums. When Lindsay Jordan wonders “Green Eyes, what could ever be enough?” she may as well be asking me personally how many times I’ll spin the record without getting tired of it. I don’t know the answer, but I know I’m not even close.

#2018 #best songs #best songs 2018 #year end lists #teamwerk

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teamwerk · 8 years ago

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QUINCY JONES ON JOHN COLTRANE

Today, Vulture ran what’s got to be the best celebrity interview since at least that Rihanna joint that the NY Times did a couple years back. Quincy Jones is so candid, so overflowing with equal parts wisdom and gossip, that one gets the feeling he could do 30 or 40 of these and every single one would be as vital and hilarious as the first.

While there is some surprising conservatism in his opinion of modern music, it’s balanced out by his assertion that Giant Steps is as ambitious as Coltrane ever got, because “you can’t get further out than 12-tone, and Giant Steps is 12-tone.”

Giant Steps is one of my favorite pieces of music ever written- to the extent that I did a note-by-note analysis of Coltrane’s solo for an advanced theory course in college. My study revealed that the solo itself is almost entirely diatonic. At the time, I had been hearing the chords as a sort of modulating circle of fifths. I hypothesized that because he was running through the chords so fast, often lingering for just half of one lightning-quick bar, the ear perceives more chromaticism than is actually there.

Of course, Jones is right. What I had been hearing as a circle of fifths is actually more like a circle of minor thirds, and within the course of each trip through the progression, every single note on the keyboard becomes available as temporarily diatonic.

What I love most about reading interviews with Quincy Jones is that all of this is contained in his mind. Things I ramble for three paragraphs to describe are so engrained for him they’re at the tip of his tongue in an instant. The world needs more of this. Who do I pitch to write this book*?

*jk someone qualified should do it.

-Patrick Shipp

#quincy #quincy jones #motown #michael jackson #vulture #john coltrane #coltrane #giant steps #music theory #12 tone

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teamwerk · 8 years ago

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FIRE ESCAPE

After falling asleep watching Netflix at god knows when, I woke up in my hotel in Central Healdsburg at 5am and noticed the wifi was out. I got up to use the bathroom & realized the power was out, then pulled out my cell phone & discovered I had no reception. I opened the door & peeked outside into near-total darkness and saw that the power appeared to be out for the whole area. No big deal - I was alive in California in the 90s, I’m not unfamiliar with power outages. Sure, it seemed a little apocalyptic that the cell phone service was out too, but I didn’t panic. There was a vague odor of smoke in the air, but I was bleary-eyed and half asleep so I just went back to bed.

When we woke up at 10am the air outside was thick with smoke and the parking lot was almost empty. Still no cell service, no wifi, and now the cable was out too. But we weren’t freaking out-- frankly, we had no sense at all how serious the situation was. We dressed, packed, and decided to head to Starbuck’s to see if we could find anyone to ask for additional information (remember - no wifi, no cell service, no cable).

I’m not a person who thinks much about the apocalypse, or signs of the apocalypse, but as it turns out, few things signal impending doom so much as a Starbuck’s being closed at 10:30 in the morning. We turned back around, still with no information and no way to get information, and figured we’d just skip our plans for breakfast and additional tastings and head straight home instead. As we drove back down Healdsburg Ave towards the 101 onramp, we noticed there were huge lines at every gas station. Quickly checking the dash, I mentally thanked Past Me for filling up the tank before we left Oakland the day before.

By this point we had turned on the radio, tuned to a station that we’d stumbled upon the day before, which had won us over by playing Hall & Oates, Aaliyah, and “Carry On My Wayward Son” in the same hour. They had dispensed with the music and were instead functioning like a public-access affiliate, just talking about the various fires and the number of roads that were closed. The highway was mostly empty. The sky, previously hazy, suddenly became a gross, dark yellow the further south we went. To the east, we saw a hilltop shrouded in a thick plume of smoke. The radio said something about 101 being closed in both directions, but did not specify what city, just referred to the location by the name of the freeway exit.

We were forced off the road in Windsor, where there were a few detour signs which led to precisely nowhere. Figuring we’d find our way back to the highway and head north, we began stumbling through the town, but-- we still had no cell service, and nobody carries road maps anymore, so this was less simple than it sounds. The radio coverage was not particularly helpful - they kept referring to specific roads or landmarks, but they wouldn’t specify what towns these landmarks were in.

We knew just Sonoma County was burning, and we knew we were right in the dead-ass center of it.

We finally find our way back to 101-N, and by this point we’re starting to freak out, a process in no way mitigated by the radio DJ announcing that there were fires in Geyserville and Cloverdale, two towns further north on 101, through both of which we would have to drive.

So, to recap: south of us, 101 is closed in both directions, there’s a visibly gigantic fire to the east and a mountain range to the west. And aside from the simple fact that oceans generally don’t catch fire, nothing about going through tiny, twisty, two-lane mountain highways to make our way to the coast sounds particularly safe.

We decided to stick with the plan and continue north, fires be damned. Sure enough, the sky again turned from hazy blue to grey to the same sickening yellow, and back again. Twice. But we made it through Cloverdale and decided to stop briefly in Hopland for gas. We checked the fire map, and there were little red fire icons on literally every highway to which we had access. We were surrounded by fires.

101 was starting to sketch me out so I figured our best bet was to head east and try to make it to I-5. That way, we’d at least be on a major artery with access to a lot of options. Unfortunately, Hwy 175 heading east from Hopland had been closed for hours, so our only choice was to continue north to Ukiah. From there, we’d head east on 20, along the top of Clear Lake (and past two little red icons), to I-5.

The drive along 20 was mostly gorgeous - Clear Lake is one of the few parts of Northern California with which I’m not at all familiar, but it’s beautiful. Under different circumstances, this would have been an extremely pleasant ride. Instead- we were heading directly toward yet another thick plume of smoke. However, unlike the others we’d seen, the bottom of this one was black and orange.

It couldn’t have been clearer: this shit was EXTREMELY. FUCKING. ON FIRE.

We had a quick bathroom stop in Clearlake Oaks, at which point there was one small hillside and inlet separating us from the fire.

People were calling in to the radio station we were listening to, from the town we were in, to report the fire we could plainly see. I can’t even begin to articulate now how weird and disorienting that is.

We continued east on 20, past a road leading toward the fire, which was closed & blocked by police SUV. But the highway remained open for the time being, and we considered ourselves lucky not to have been forced back west towards Ukiah and 101.

The stretch of 20 between the edge of Clear Lake and Interstate 5 is mostly barren, hilly farmland sprinkled with tiny, depressed towns. There is little radio reception and absolutely zero cell reception for a good chunk of it. We knew we were past the main fire we were worried about, but between sharp bursts of static, we were hearing reports that nothing was under control. That stretch was probably even scarier than just moments before, when we had been driving directly into a gigantic fire, because we had no contingency plan. No radio, no cell service - we knew that if we ran into any issues, we’d be on our own.

...And that’s where the story kind of peters out. We made it to I-5 and smashed down to 505-S, then caught 80 and immediately stopped at a Five Guys in the Nut Tree Plaza in Vacaville. We ate the greatest burgers ever (did I mention we hadn’t eaten anything and it was like 3pm?) and got back on the road home.

We got back to Oakland around 4:30 and it’s been sweats, whiskey and tv ever since.

It was a weird fuckin day.

-Patrick Shipp

#fire #fire escape #tubbs fire #wine country #healdsburg #santa rosa #clear lake

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teamwerk · 9 years ago

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It’s Gonna Be Lonely: RIP Prince

The first time I saw Prince, I was a new fan. Being a person with ears, I was aware of Prince’s hits, but for a long time he occupied that space of artists whose discographies are so massive as to be seemingly impenetrable. I always wanted to learn more, but I had no idea how or where to start. Under the advice of my pals, Prince megafans Spencer and Mike, I’d spent some significant time with Dirty Mind, Prince, and Controversy.

To nobody’s surprise, the show was incredible. Not only did he run through a ton of material from the records I’d been playing, he also played so many more hits than I thought I knew. Shit like “Batdance,” or later tracks like “Gold” popped up, leaving me with the distinct impression that I knew more of the man’s music than I had thought. He also brought out Sheila E through a riser in center stage, already slaying a timbales solo as she came into view. It was a spectacle befitting its arena venue, and it was fantastic.

What really struck me, though, was his phenomenal talent as a rhythm guitarist. Dude was born with a metronomic sense of pace, but he knew exactly how to drag ever-so-slightly behind the beat to nail that angular Minneapolis funk feel. To be clear, I wasn’t surprised that he was great, I was surprised that I noticed; I’m a drummer and pianist, so generally, guitar technique goes over my head. But Prince’s obvious mastery of his craft (rhythm guitar, vocals, general arena-performance-showmanship) could not be missed.

I didn’t see Prince again until earlier this year. I hesitated at my first chance to buy a $300 ticket because I wasn’t sure how a solo “Piano & A Mic” performance would translate to an arena space. I needn’t have worried.

I carpooled with that same buddy, Spencer, and his wife Allison, but my ticket was solo. This would be between Prince and me.

A consummate performer, Prince already had the crowd in hysterics when he entered with cape, cane, and the giant afro that had become his trademark. By the time he got to “Baltimore,” his second song, many were in tears. The roar was already deafening when he transitioned to “Rock & Roll Love Affair.”

This time, what struck me was his phenomenal talent as a pianist. I grew up playing piano, and it was the focus of my music major in college. I have studied the classical piano canon, the jazz piano canon, historical performance practice, theory -- all that stuff. I’ve had teachers ranging from a loosey-goosey jazzbo to a strict, Russian traditionalist who studied under Mikhail Pletnev. I’m not a great pianist, but I damn sure know one when I see it.

Prince is the single best pianist I’ve ever seen in person (with apologies to Chick Corea). His form, his technique, his speed -- my Russian overlord Maria would have been proud. But more importantly, his feel was stunning. Sure, he whipped up and down the keyboard in an instant, filling the spaces between “Little Red Corvette” verses with flurries of 32nd notes, but what moved me more was his application of boogie woogie and ragtime techniques, using stride bass to imply the groove and spacing of a full rhythm section. His skills as a vocalist and an arena-wrecking performer were in full repose, but goddamn, I could not stop listening to what he was doing on the keys.

I may or may not have bootlegged that entire set, and it may or may not now be one of my most treasured recordings. I will never forget it.

* * * * *

This weekend, I lost my father-in-law suddenly. He was a tall, intelligent, sarcastic and principled man, one from whom I learned a lot. My wife and I had been to a wedding with him just a couple weeks back, and he could not have seemed more sturdy. His passing hit me like a brick to the chest, not just because it was sudden, but because he had always struck me as the kind of man who would outlive everyone he knew, including us. He just seemed too stubborn to die. It didn’t seem possible that he could be gone. It still doesn’t.

The thing about an unexpected death is that it reminds you how fragile all this shit is. We comfort ourselves by being impressed with the continuing developments in the field of medical technology. We fill ourselves with stupid Hollywood scenes in which the death of a hero is never really permanent. We delude ourselves to think that we can recover from anything.

At the time when I went to that last Prince show, my in-laws were staying with my wife and I. She decided to forgo the show, electing instead to cherish that time with her parents, who were set to return to their East Coast home a week later. She made the right choice. I’m not sure I did.

I guess the point is, you never know. Don’t wait till next time to see your favorite musicians perform. Don’t wait till next time to hug your family.

Do everything you can, because one day you suddenly can’t do anything.

#prince #death #family #minneapolis

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teamwerk · 12 years ago

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Podcast - The 2013 TEAMMIES

People have gone crazy with this prepare-your-list-in-November, dip-out-on-Deceber-9th shit, BUT NOT TEAMWERK. No, no, friends -- we endeavor diligently to keep you in suspense till the very end! (by which I mean, it takes a long time to put together a fake awards ceremony.)

FUCK A LIST, LISTEN TO AN AWARDS SHOW.

-Patrick Shipp, Michael Prentice, Joffrey St. Clair, Spencer Owen, Regina Marinaro & Rene Vega.

#teammies #teamwerk #podcast

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teamwerk · 12 years ago

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New Grass - These New Puritans: Field of Reeds [2013]

In ancient Egyptian mythology, only souls who were the exact weight of a feather were permitted to undertake a voyage to Heaven. On this journey, they faced many dangers, the last of which was a series of gates, guarded by armed demons, which opened to a vast series of islands covered in rushes, or the Field of Reeds.

On their latest release, These New Puritans use the concept of the Fields of Aaru as the catalyst for an hour-long meditation on existence & perception. Utilizing a small chamber orchestra, a children's choir, and fado singer Elisa Rodrigues to great effect, lead singer/conceptualist Jack Barnett conjures an overarching sense of transgenerational connectedness. The heavenly future that may await him is also his past-- if not literally, then as a dream or vision.

This fascination with mythology, spirituality, and mysticism pervades every element of the music, far beyond lyrics. Moving away from a standard rock band format goes a long way in displacing the album's modernity, but the real hero here is harmony: throughout the record, Barnett uses chromatic modalities that existed long before the equal temperament that's become the standard for Western music. There's an entire essay to be written about these harmonic devices, but I'm sure most of you will be relieved to find that this isn't it.

On their official website, Barnett has posted a manifesto of sorts, in which he says: "With the first album especially, there was a bit of a gap between me and the music. With the last album that gap closed a lot. With this one it has disappeared." One can only assume that orchestral music is where his heart's been all along, as the most notable sonic shift to have occurred in their three-album span is that of a revivalist post-punk band mutating into a chamber ensemble.

It makes sense that a dude with art music ambition would gravitate toward post-punk, as it is, in my estimation, the rock genre most in tune to orchestral music. What is somewhat unprecedented is that, after using post-punk to make his presence known, it's taken only three albums for him to complete the transformation from popular song to art music. It's my sincerest hope that fans of the band's earlier work will follow along into this new idiom. They might find that the symphony hall's as good a place as any to stake one's claim.

Long story short, Field of Reeds is phenomenal. The music is ethereal, haunting, challenging, and enveloping. It's out today on Infectious Records and it is certainly worth an hour of your time and a few bucks from your pocket.

-Patrick Shipp

#new grass #teamwerk #these new puritans #field of reeds #fields of aaru #mythology #modality #chamber music #art music #chamber pop #post-punk #u.k.

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teamwerk · 12 years ago

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Real Live Flesh: Bjork @ The Craneway Pavillion, Richmond CA

Over the last week, Björk had a three-date residency at Richmond's Craneway Pavillion. If you're not from the Bay, that probably reads as a standard opening line for a concert review. Except this is Björk who doesn't tour extensively, playing in Richmond, which is Oakland's sister city in both culture and crime. Factor in that this was the first high-profile concert that the restored Craneway has ever hosted, plus the poignant truth that I grew up out here, and that my very gully high school was not the kind of place one was praised for liking esoteric Icelandic pop, and you're starting to settle into the profound weirdness of these events for me.

I couldn't afford the show; when tickets went on sale, I was preparing for two vacations and a move, but due to a public path that runs directly alongside the venue, I was able to stand outside the place, see the entire stage & hear everything. As a person who grew up on the periphery of some hood shit, it is a sublime inversion that one of my favorite artists played in that very same hood, and I stood outside, where I still had a better view of the stage than 75% of the concert's paying customers.

Björk's current tour is focused heavily on the interactive, instructive material of her last record, Biophilia. The reason she played in Richmond, as opposed to Oakland or SF, is because the tour is designed for an "in the round" performance, in which the stage is a circular island in a sea of audience. Above her were several screens, which displayed the visual components of those songs' apps. Much like the record itself, the Biophilia live experience is a meticulously realized work of art.

It should go without saying that Björk is an incredible performer. On top of her grandiose vision for the stage (neon afro wig, 20-person choir, huge pendula downstage, the aforementioned screens), her body practically vibrates with energy. Even in the ballads, she moves like the dancing flora in the Nutcracker part of Fantasia. Also, her voice is pitch-perfect! Particulary in chromatic pieces like "Virus" and "Dark Matter," her lead pierces right through the densely layered vocals, giving the listener some solid ground in the more harmonically challenging sections.

Beyond the scope of Biophilia's sound and vision, it was actually the earlier pieces that provided most of the evening's highlights. On all three nights, she performed an updated arrangement of "Possibly Maybe" that replaced some of the serene, rounded tones of the original with some distorted, fuzzed-out synth bass, matched by a lightning-clash visual. Elsewhere, she played "Hidden Place," which was hugely improved by an extra 20 voices assisting those ethereal shifts into and through the chorus. And on the final night, she answered my teenage heart's silent prayers with an incredible adaptation of "Pagan Poetry." Once again, the additional voices (and their reverberations in the space) were crucial in bringing to life the dark foreboding of the original.

I don't know what else to say -- Björk is good, did you know that? I guess really, the more important thing for me personally, was to see that Richmond is making strides to better itself. If it can reel in a few more quality performers, and possibly widen a street or two, Richmond could have a major boon in the Craneway Pavillion. And when that happens, I promise I'll actually buy a ticket or two.

-Patrick Shipp

#real live flesh #björk #richmond #craneway pavillion #2013 #pop #concert #review

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teamwerk · 12 years ago

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One Sentence - Kingdom: Vertical XL [2013]

The new Kingdom LP is streaming at his soundcloud and it makes us wanna have sex while getting in a fight in the club.

-Patrick Shipp

#one sentence #new grass #2013 #kingdom #electronic #house #vertical XL #uk

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teamwerk · 12 years ago

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New Grass - Dirty Projectors: The Socialites (AlunaGeorge Remix)

Worlds colliding: our favorite new act from 2012 (AlunaGeorge) flips a track from our favorite record of last year (Swing Lo, Magellan) with signature elegant restraint. As recent history has shown, Amber Coffman's voice lends itself to all sorts of contextual variance, but seldom has a remixer so effectively framed its unadorned timbre. This delicate interpretation places Coffman firmly in front of a tasteful UK soundscape that rubs elbows with the likes of SBTRKT and Disclosure, while maintaining the glitchy soul vibes that put AlunaGeorge on our radar in the first place.

Spoiler Alert: this will almost certainly end up on our year-end lists.

-Patrick Shipp

#the dirty projectors #dirty projectors #alunageorge #the socialites #remix #2013 #uk club

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teamwerk · 12 years ago

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In honor of Cinco de Mayo, here's my favorite track by my favorite producer out of Mexico, Javier Estrada.

Dude's only like 20 years old and he's a master arranger/producer.

-Patrick Shipp

#cinco de mayo #javier estrada #mexico #mexico city #2012

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teamwerk · 12 years ago

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not sure what makes this a bonus track but it's the best thing we've heard from James Blake since his debut LP.

James Blake - Every Day I Ran (Bouns Track)

#james blake #u.k.#minimal #dubstep #big boi

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teamwerk · 12 years ago

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New Grass - DJ Marfox x Akwaaba: Keep Calm & Listen To Tarranxinha [2013]

Here at TEAMWERK, we fux with Akwaaba Music because they do stuff like hyping a largely unknown mid-aughts Portuguese-Angolan fusion genre called Tarranxinha with a free mixtape. And when they do such things, it behooves one to take advantage.

Keep Calm & Listen To Tarranxinha consistently hits on some of my favorite music pleasure-centers: groove, arrangement, creativity; but I'm particularly fond of a track called "Choro Do Corno" (or "Cry of the Horn"). In it, DJs Joyce Gomes & Revolucion sample and auto-tune the sound of a baby crying, and it results in one of the strangest & most emotionally affecting moments I've heard in music in 2013.

The whole compilation, as well as a more comprehensive description of tarranxinha (written by Akwaaba founder Benjamin Lebrave himself) is available right here. If you ever cared even a little about your ass' happiness, you'll click through.

-Patrick Shipp

#new grass #teamwerk #akwaaba music #akwaaba #dj marfox #portugal #angola #lisbon #luanda #dance #electronic #tarranchinha #tarranxinha

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teamwerk · 12 years ago

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New Grass - Justin Timberlake, The 20/20 Experience [2013]

In the week since JT's new album leaked, about a million people have tried to impress each other by seeing who could rush out their reactionary response the quickest. SPOILER ALERT: most of those "reviews" aren't very good. Still, the internet's obsession with this unreleased artifact has really got me thinking about immediacy & access as cultural signifiers, but also the horrifying truth that the trolls may be right. So here are a few of the most prevalent and controversial talking points, with helpful annotations as to why they're actually true:

1. "Suit & Tie" kinda sounds like a Robin Thicke song. Not really sure why The Internets had a shitfit over this one. Thicke has built his entire career on the post-lounge lifestyle music that Timberlake is now tackling. I saw him play in San Francisco in 2009 and dude was singing into a fucking golden microphone. Thicke is one of our nation's brave leaders in the dual fields of Full-Schmaltz Crooning and Middle-Aged Panty-Dropping. That Timberlake is dabbling shouldn't surprise anyone; he's already been about as shiny and mainstream as a person can be, and beat the odds by getting gully with the Clipse on his first solo record. Much like fellow Mouseketeer Christina Aguilera a few years ago, he doesn't really have another extreme to test. The 20/20 Experience is his Back To Basics moment, and there is nothing wrong with that, as long as the songs are good!

2. "Spaceship Coupe" kinda sounds like an R. Kelly song. I know a bunch of my fellow R&B heads got their Coogis in a knot because of this comparison, but it's not as sacrilegious as y'all think. (And trust - few people have more ravenous Kellz fans in their cadre than we do at TEAMWERK.) The slow tempo, the bizarre science fiction vibe, and the dripping production are all strictly Kellzian. But "Spaceship Coupe" still falls short of that lofty ambition in specificity and ostentatiousness. R. Kelly would have told you how fast the spaceship was going, what kind of leather the seats were made of, and the exact locations on the ship where he intended to bed his passenger.

3. The 20/20 Experience is Justin Timberlake's most traditional soul record to date. This one is 100% true. And surprise, surprise: the parts of the record that are most effective are those that bring him (ahem) back to basics. Tracks like "Pusher Love Girl" and "That Girl" are among the album's best because the songwriting is on point. He could play them in a cafe on a stool with an acoustic guitar, or at Madison Square Garden in front of a gargantuan orchestra, and they'd meet equal success.

4. JT is positioning himself as a Lifestyle artist. Matthew Perpetua wrote the least clickbaity, most intelligent piece I saw last week, entitled Justin Timberlake Is A Luxury Brand. He rightly identified the fancypants rebranding that Timberlake's applied to himself and his work. The slicked-back hair, the constant mugging and the black & white vidclips all harken back to a glitzier, classier time.

And actually, this is the one point I feel Perpetua missed: the fantastical element at play on this album. He compared Justin to Jay-Z, which is fair, but I'd argue that 20/20 is less "Niggas In Paris" and more "Big Pimpin'." Whereas Watch The Throne was unabashedly about glitz and glamour and the flossing thereof, the records that made up the Volume series (In My Lifetime, Hard Knock Life, and The Life & Times of Sean Carter) were far more aspirational than they were flashy. The video for "Big Pimpin" showed Jigga and UGK on a yacht acting about as nouveaux-riche as they possibly could. That shit was probably rented! They weren't boasting that they were above us, they were boasting that they were us, but had found a way to step outside their standard existence.

This is the greatest trick of Justin's polished new look: he's not selling us stuff we're jealous of him for having, he's selling us a fictitious ideal of Old Hollywood that none of us can have because it didn't exist even when it supposedly existed.

It is a dream of a memory of a façade, and it's an incredibly charming, affecting, and well-executed one.

-Patrick Shipp

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