Diving Into Gadabout Season By Ian Sherry 10/23/2025 On June 13, 2025, Brandee Younger released her latest solo LP, Gadabout Season. We have deemed expansion necessary, to new heights, new depths, new mediums, greater variety, and widened horizons. The relationship between demand and results, however, can be trepidatious. (Now switching out of the royal collective) I have been in the lab for you all, ruminating on an expanded product and the potential of a community attached to such a product. For now, you are that community. You are also the face of that torturous monster called Pressure. It’s a monster of my own creation, constructed from the expectations I imagine you all might have for me. Under Pressure is where I’ve done my best work, but his weight is tremendous, difficult to carry. This most recent phase of expansion has forced me to reckon with my inability to lug him any further, examine the ethics of projecting my own lofty expectations onto you readers, and grapple with the fact that pressure may not equate to progress. Pressure makes diamonds. But, is frozen crystal my desired form, or does my path require malleability? Maybe it’s not a push I need after all, but a pull. To run towards something is much different than away. Watching your goals come into view is a sounder reward than watching worries fade slowly into the rearview. The fact is, they can always catch up and present new reasons to move forward. Knowing that, there’s no point in dwelling on their presence, no matter how near, because you may miss something on the path in front of you. As I scanned my path a few months back, I stumbled upon two music courses to complete my journalism-filled collegiate schedule. Yes, I’ve been in the lab, the music lab, and it’s just what the doctor ordered. With just a bit more knowledge, optimism, and moxy than I had yesterday, I bring you my review of Brandee Younger’s 2025 LP, Gadabout Season. Brandee Younger arrived at an interesting time in jazz. A genre in no real danger of dying due to its lack of a single definition, the lines of jazz grow increasingly blurred in the electronic era. How does an artform built on pillars like improvisation and swing survive in a world of endless sonic possibilities where musical form as we know it has been simplified to production software displays, and abstracted, ambient electronic production has become a commonality? How do you wrangle the interest of an audience with shrinking attention spans, access to a skip button, and ears trained to subversive autotune? Well, if anyone can navigate that dilemma it’s Younger. First trained classically at NYU, then as an apprentice of jazz (adjacent) greats like Pharoah Sanders, Ravi Coltrane, John Legend, and The Roots, she gained experience in bridging generations and genres. So, when it came time to go solo, Brandee Younger was more than equipped to form a sound around her chosen chordophone: the harp. In my experience with the harp, its often are used as melodic fill behind the rhythm-driving instruments or overshadowed by horns. Music that solely features harp almost always feels loose and thin – sonically elegant but musically stagnant. That’s a line Younger toes at times on this record. Track 1, “Reckoning,” is a great example of the kind of flourishing and solo melodic blitzing I’ve come to expect from a lead harpist. It’s exciting, but borderline overstimulating and across an entire record it would produce the fatigue that I believe most jazz-avoidant listeners fear. Her presence had to be announced though, so announce it she did. Track 2, “End Means,” moves nicely into the sound of the album and features the versatile flautist Shabaka. The two soloists share the lead role, with Younger playing underneath Shabaka’s runs and quality support from the drums and upright bass, which arrived for the remainder of the record. The title track follows. Placing “Gadabout Season” at 3 makes perfect sense – it’s not a leadoff piece nor the most memorable or captivating, but it’s pleasant mundanity, comfortable quality, and swinging bounce embody the soul of the record. It’s easy to picture Younger cutting this track and knowing it was the bones of something bigger. “Breaking Point” is the first of my favorites. The bass is more present and sonically supportive than on any other piece as it churns out a 2 bar progression, lurching, 4/4 then 2/4 with drums flourishing in between. It’s an aggressive, high-tempo rendition of the swing feeling and Younger wails away with increasing might, steady precision, and decreasing restraint for 2:43. Fifth is “Reflection Eternal” - a melodic breather before the next jumbo composition rolls out of your speaker. Track 6 picks up the light swirling sound of its predecessor with more convincing but infrequent bass support and shimmering drums underneath. The harp carries the tune, touching on the main melody repeatedly then cycling away into pseudo improvision and climbing higher towards the so-called “New Pinnacle.” It’s a grand track to throw in the center of a record, and while it resonates just fine from my speakers at home, I can’t help but imagine hearing it in a big space. “Surrender” features pianist Courtney Bryan. The two trade back and forth, but to the untrained ear the load of strings could be indistinguishable. I’m just now feeling the ability to parse out the harp and it’s horizontally boxed counterpart, but Younger often emulates piano-style notes in her playing on this record making this feature less impactful than the others. “BBL” has some bass to it as well, and if you can’t tell by now I prefer it that way (real bass). To me, the offset provided by a firm bottom like that of track 8 elevates any instrument on top of it. The harp soars more effectively with ground to push off, and when Younger meanders down amongst her accompaniment, as she does on “BBL”, it creates warm, thriving sonic ecosystem. Younger welcomes vocalist Niia into said ecosystem on the dreamy “Unswept Corners.” These corners accumulated the mutual appeal of classical lounge-type music and suave contemporary r&b via the sparse and restrained contributions from all players and the tonal additions of a solid feature. Josh Johnson’s presence was likewise productive on the final track “Discernment.” The somewhat sluggish build of the closer is wiped away by the bulkiness of Johnson’s alto saxophone. He appears all over the track, supporting a reaching Younger on her lengthy and ambitious runs, soaring alongside her at times, and occasionally cutting straight through all the noise to the center of the sound. Another quality contribution to a well-constructed, intentional record. Brandee Younger may not be a musical visionary or Grammy-winning performer, but she is rich in understanding and control of her sound. She knows music. She can conceive it. And she did so with contemporarily uncommon consistency on this 2025 LP. Gadabout Season is a 8.

Tabs On Tigers 2/18/2025 BY: IAN SHERRY Forward: The Issue of Immediacy Greetings sports fans. You’ve heard about the Luka Doncic trade. The 25-year-old Slovenian star, formerly of the Dallas Mavericks, was traded to the Lakers within the first 24 hours of February for Hall of Fame Swiss cheese slice Anthony Davis and some change. Within those same 24 hours, like clockwork, Shams Charania’s early-bird tip was broadcasted to Americans nationwide via ESPN alert. The result, then, was a media-fueled and interpersonally experienced hellstorm of unkempt sporting enthusiasm and perplexed fandom that has yet to fully cease. The bone I’d like to briefly pick with the phenomenon above doesn’t concern the aforementioned hellstorm nor the reliability of the American sporting news system. It’s the pace. Mainstream sports journalism, because of its constant active, proactive, and reactive content stream, tends to skew in an emotional, argumentative direction that intertwines with fandom and biases to the point that the coverage becomes lost in the sport itself. With media being as conclusive and invasive as it is in today’s age, the lines between your couch at home and an pro locker room are more blurred than ever. While there certainly are benefits of this arrangement, I’ve been more aware of the dangers recently. I think it suffices to say, and this reflects across most genres of journalism to an extent, that the competitive rush to be lead opinion on a subject you’re passionate about can be blinding, and its tangible in the mosaic of bad takes that we’re meant to recognize as authority in today’s reportorial landscape. Resistance to that is The Culture Gyre’s angle indiscriminately. Now please join me in embarking on coverage of a subject I was born to discuss: Tigers Baseball. Tabs On Tigers Vol. 1 Alex Bregman’s 3-year 120-million-dollar contract became official Thursday, February 13th. In that moment he became the third highest annually paid position player, behind just Ohtani and Soto and tied with Judge, and in that same moment, a bullet was dodged in southeast Michigan. That came following the Tigers’ months-long pursuit of the veteran third baseman. General manager Scott Harris and the majority of the fanbase felt that Bregman would be a concrete solution for a currently uncertain foundation at the hot corner. Harris went as far as to offer a 5-year 170-million-dollar contract that most closely resembled the 7-year 200-million-dollar deal Bregman thought he was worth, but that was not to be. Now, the discussion surrounding Tigers team improvement has shifted to the trade market, but we’d like to offer a more complete synopsis of the most recent developments and current condition of this 2025 Tigers team. The most pressing concern of fans headed into free agency was the left side of the infield. While the starting pitching staff was alarmingly thin on paper last year, it’s hard to argue with the hodge-podged late-season results, plus having the reigning Cy Young offers a certain level of security. Harris addressed it anyhow with the thrifty signing of the veteran (and already inured) Alex Cobb, who’s quietly carried a sub-4 ERA for four consecutive years, and the recent readdition of the flourishing Jack Flaherty. Add a pair of bullpen arms, (one great and one solid) in Tommy Kahnle and John Brebbia, and an assortment of sub-30-year-old starting pitchers – plus Kenta Maeda - competing for a spot at the end of our rotation (2 until Cobb returns) and suddenly this pitching staff feels legit. But still, no signings on the left side. The left side of the infield – the carrot on a stick. Gleyber Torres used to play there, but not since the arrival of better fielding prospects on the Yankees infield. From there, the former 38-homerun all-star’s relationship with his former team began to wash away, and as the impact of that process began to show itself on the field over the past couple seasons, the stream carried him to Detroit. The Tigers front office locked him up for a season at $15k, just half the yearly offering we placed on Alex Bregman’s table. While Torres will have to earn his play in a platoon-heavy infield like he got tired of doing in New York and his overall game doesn’t compare to Boston’s most recent overspend, his offensive upside is that of a player with equivalent homerun power to Bregman. He is admittedly a notch below in most other offensive categories, but just one notch, and the optimist in you might expect a jump in plate discipline given his more veteran role on this team as well as an increase in RBI production assuming he finds himself more central in the Tigers lineup, which still boasts zero established major league left-side infielders. The Torres addition, of course, means a move for the Tigers’ long-term commitment Kolt Keith, but not to third base, his former position. Instead, Spencer Torkelson drew the short end of the stick this winter. The former number-one pick has had obvious struggles at the major league level, showing flashes at times on both sides of the ball, but ultimately scraping his way to replacement level over his first three seasons. With Jace Jung and Trey Sweeney being a part of the miracle Mudhen formula that propelled the Tigers to last year’s post-season and Matt Vierling working in at third, it seems Scott Harris decided the direst situation on the infield was at first base. At least, it was the most easily solvable. The fact is, problems remain unsolved headed into Spring Training, but Baez, McKinstry, Maeda, Hinch’s musical chairs batting order, the hitting coaches, and the away uniforms are for another day. For today, we have a minor leaguer, Trey Sweeney, attempting to prove himself a pro at shortstop. We have an ultra-scrappy yet questionable three-man platoon at third base among the switch-hitting Jung, versatile and athletic Vierling, and lefty-killer Ibanez. That goes with a right side manned by Torres and Keith (perhaps Torkelson against a lefty) to round out a blatantly poor defensive infield. Luckily, they’re backed up by what could prove to be an excellent outfield with premium left fielder Riley Greene, thoroughbred center fielder Parker Meadows, and the looming power threat, Kerry Carpenter, in right field. We also have a rotation book-ended by the lefty Cy Young Tarik Skubal and the potential of a Hinch chaosball platoon in the 5th slot, which will, in theory, allow Cobb to rehab and settle into the middle while Flaherty picks up where he left off and Reese Olsen continues to grow into one of the leagues most underrated young arms. We have a full bullpen and a decision to make at closer. We have a coach with the team’s faith. We have an active front office led by a diplomatic and measured GM with at least some of the owner’s attention and a willingness to trade. We have a lot to look forward to.

GRAMMYS ON TRIAL 2/4/24 BY: IAN SHERRY On Sunday, February 4, 2023, the 66th annual Grammy Awards will take place at 8 pm. If you like good music, you may not like the Grammys. In fact, I’d tend towards the opinion that you absolutely should not. Anyone who’s ever watched the Grammys has experienced disappointment. They’ve experienced confusion as an artist strolls to the stage to accept the most prestigious award that applies to their mediocre product. That combination of disappointment and confusion leads to anger. Then, all of a sudden, music’s biggest night, the one that’s supposed to bring fans together nationwide, is steeped in division. Twitter lights up in outrage, TVs shut off, and people go to bed thinking next year will be better. People are mistaken, because in fact, the Grammys only get worse. Their archaic thought processes and categorizations grow weaker as music diversifies, and their failure to adjust in any significant way becomes increasingly offensive. Yet, they sit alone at the top of their critical field. If you’re interested, please join me down here as I throw rocks at the throne. One of the greatest criticisms of any institution is to say they’ve lost sight of their original purpose; the Grammy Awards are a perfect example. Elected officials often get lost in the game that is politics and begin to govern with the intention of securing reelection instead of serving the people. The Grammys have fallen into a similar trap. In order to maintain their unparalleled grip on the pinnacle of musical achievement, they feel they need to please an audience. Their word is final, yet if people are displeased their credibility comes into question. So, in order to maintain credibility and reserve the right to assert their opinion, they have to simultaneously appeal to the largest possible demographics while pacifying the frustration of undervalued fanbases. For this year’s attempt at saving face, Harvey Mason Jr., the CEO of The Recording Academy, added three sub-categories: best African music performance, best alternative jazz album, and best pop dance recording. While the surface-level intention here is good, it doesn’t make a dent. The Grammys' genre divisions can’t be fixed by adding niche awards here and there. If there is a category for Christian music why not other religions? If there is a category for Electronic music why does it only apply to the Euro/American EDM and hyperpop movements and not the majority-Black Techno and House movements of Detroit and Chicago? You’ll never get to the root of the problem by going one at a time. The result of their box-checking strategy is an uncomfortable and unbalanced relationship with not only the artists, but their audience as well. How is an audience supposed to accept the word of The Recording Academy as gospel when that word has been so obviously impacted by a variety of monetary influences and inherent biases? Criteria is the key word when it comes to exercises of this nature. An entity that is determining the best or worst of anything must have criteria in order to consistently deliver a decision. Discrepancies sew doubt into the minds of the audience, and I have many doubts running through my mind this year. Morgan Wallen is the newest rage in country music. In 2023 he was all over the charts, even holding the number one slot for 16 weeks with “Last Night” . His music dominated the country audience, but more impressively, he brought in non-country fans as well. I won’t pretend to count myself as one of them, but I do find it incredible that he will receive the same number of golden Grammy trophies as me this year (0). While his songwriters have a shot in the best country song category, Morgan Wallen himself is not nominated once. If the Grammys aren’t about the fans, at least not his, they must put more of an emphasis on critical success, right? Caroline Polachek must be nominated for album of the year. Wrong. Instead we sit in a weird in-between where popularity matters only within fanbases The Recording Academy values, where critical voices are used to defend certain artists’ inclusion but ignored to justify others. For instance, Ice Spice is nominated for Best New Artist, but not Sexyy Red . Both artists had massive presences on the rap charts and TikTok, planted their names amongst the top female rappers, made significant feature appearances, and received strong reviews from critics, yet only one is nominated. Sexyy Red is what we, in the tradition of complaining about the Grammys, call a snub. Yes, gathering around and complaining about the Grammys snubs is a tradition at this point. I’m sure The Recording Academy can feel this culture of negativity amongst their audience, though I’m not sure they care. As long as those angry people still tune in, what's the harm? A lot of work goes into crafting an audience such as this; we’re frustrated but we return without fail. They sell it and we buy it, and when there’s a dip in sales they find a way to pull us back in. In 2021 they charted by far the lowest viewership this century. The next year, they received praise from all corners of the entertainment industry when Jon Batiste won the 2022 album of the year. To follow that up, they put on a 50 years in hip-hop celebration last year, which received awards and resulted in a 30% spike in viewership from the previous year. So, how do they maintain an audience constantly threatening to wane? They lean into other demographics as needed. There is no 51 years in hip-hop celebration this year, in fact there’s no hip-hop nominated for any of the top three categories. Instead they sprinkled nominations in for Grammy darlings Kendrick Lamar and Jon Batiste , despite Lamar having a slow year in terms of production quantity and Batiste’s new album receiving lukewarm reviews across the board. This kind of token placement throughout the nominations is a common Grammy trope, and its used to justify Harry Styles’ Harry’s House winning over Beyonce’s Renaissance or Macklemore’s The Heist winning over Kendrick Lamar’s Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City (notice how they’ve been sure not to repeat this particular mistake). If you create the standard that a certain kind of music’s merit is limited, then its inclusion in any form is appreciated. Have you ever taken a moment to wonder why you never see hip-hop albums win Album of The Year? In fact, only two have ever done it. Is it fair to say that Lauryn Hill’s The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill and Outkast’s Speakerboxxx/The Love Below are the only two rap albums ever to sit at the top of their year, that even the best rap albums can’t, on average, stand up to the best of other genres, that rap is a lesser artform? No, that’s nonsense, yet that’s what the Grammys imply. The Grammys imply that Black music can be pigeonholed into one umbrella category, and somehow, that’s remained acceptable. In 2021 Black artists accounted for 44% of charting songs according to Billboard , yet a CNN article from the same year revealed only 24% of the nominees were Black. The vessel through which the Grammys bottle up Black artists is the Rap & Spoken Word Poetry category. While it's dangerous to assume an artist’s inclusion in a given category is based on anything other than merit, patterns imply intent not coincidence. Case and point: every single artist nominated in the R&B, Rap & Spoken Word Poetry this year is of African descent. Knowing that, it becomes a lot harder to remain under the impression the category has anything to do with music, not to mention the glaring differences in the art being presented within the category. However, the person who highlights this categorical foolishness the best isn’t even Black. Jelly Roll is a rapper and singer from Nashville. He spent more than a decade rapping, inspired by the Southern royalty rap of the 90s and 2000s. However, when he finally received his first Grammy nod it was in the Country & American Roots Music category. Just like there's no room for Lil Yachty in the Rock, Metal & Alternative Music category, there was no room for Jelly Roll in the Grammys definition of rap. After more than a decade, this was abundantly clear to him so he transitioned to a genre that fit his skin tone and accent in the highest critical context. That’s the kind of power these awards wield. They shape the landscape in which artists attempt to create music, and they enforce their racist mindset on the industry at large. That’s why Lil Nas X couldn’t release a pop/country song without backlash, Tyler, The Creator got his music pulled from the radio for practicing the same horrorcore rap that made Eminem famous, and Iggy Azalea climbed the charts by rapping in her best impersonation of a Black woman instead of her natural Australian accent. At the source of every institutional form of discrimination is an institution. In the music industry you can point to a number of villains, but none more public and pathetic than the Grammys. To The Recording Academy: allow me to remind you of your supposed purpose. You are the highest positive critical force in American Music. You have a responsibility to recognize the best of the best, based purely on merit, by creating categories which cover all types of excellent music and rewarding the best artist within that category. The purpose of categories is to ensure those who deserve to be recognized are accommodated, not to appease the fans, insert or cover your inherent bias, or reinforce the configuration of the pop charts. The pop charts, after all, speak for themselves. We don’t need you to base your decisions upon streaming numbers or radio listenership, Billboard exists for that very purpose. No, we turn to you because you are the all-encompassing, musically critical institution which best summarizes the feelings of the most reputable pundits and the people for whom the artists make art. You wield the power of public opinion, not the other way around. That power is unrivaled in the music industry, as streaming is the livelihood of the artists who you’re meant to empower. After all, their art is also a product. Instead, you’ve become the product. You sell yourself to the public every year. Everything you do, from the categories and the artists nominated within them, to the presenters and performers selected to put on your show, is all a part of the institution, the product, the lost cause: the Grammys. Of course, we can't completely abstain from the ceremonies. So, here's a list of the best amongst the nominees, who I think will win, and who should win regardless of the nominations for every category I feel inclined and qualified to pick.

Nicki Minaj, Again 12/22/23 BY: IAN SHERRY On December 8, 2023, Nicki Minaj released her first album in 5 years: Pi nk Friday 2 . Nicki Minaj embodies a unique position in today’s music landscape as one of the most simultaneously overplayed and underrated artists of all time. Like her pal Drake, her popularity often overshadows her technical ability, and her sound. Both artists are dismissed as one-dimensional based on the portion of their work that hits the charts. This is understandable, considering both artists produce stylistically unattractive moments on almost every album. However, if you really dig into Drake, you’d hear a decent rapper. Not my favorite by any means, but decent. Similarly, but to the extreme, if you really dig into Nicki Minaj, you’d hear one of the most skilled rappers of all time. Her influence on rap as an industry is immeasurable. From her mainstream sexual branding to her marketing and release strategies, to her pure skill and style on the microphone, she sets the standard for any rapper wishing to straddle the lines of hip-hop and pop. Minaj, in my book, is the undisputed queen of rap. This year, she was tasked with expanding her legacy after years away. Nicki Minaj, as good as she is, has never been the strongest at crafting a well-executed, complete album. This holds her back from certain elite conversations. Her flows and bars are consistently elite, but her thematic focus and song curation occasionally fall short. This isn’t to say she hasn’t made good albums, in fact she has some classics. But their status benefits greatly from their chart-topping hits and far-reaching influence. Even if they weren’t perfectly crafted masterpieces, Pink Friday , The Pinkprint , and Queen defined their respective eras of mainstream rap and have aged gracefully due to Minaj’s looming presence and unshakeable relevance. However, until the recent release of Pink Friday 2 , Nicki Minaj hadn’t made an album since 2018, raising the question: can she deliver in a culturally significant way? Although Minaj is still relevant, five years removed, she’s a clear notch below her prime popularity. Mainstream rap is heavily reliant on being in style, and she hasn’t been this far on the outside since she secured a feature on Kanye West’s “Monster”. That was in 2010, this is 2023. The Samples Danny Brown revealed sometime in the last 10 years (time flies when you can’t find the date of the video) that when constructing his critically acclaimed album Atrocity Exhibition , he expended so much of his production budget on securing the rights to samples, prior to rollout and other post-production expenses, that he initially lost money on the album. An up-and-comer at the time, Brown’s inexperience with fiscal management and industry norms, coupled with his enthusiasm for the music, led to him being broke when his 2016 record was released, and consequently, he stayed in the red for the years that followed. While I’m certain Nicki Minaj wasn’t scrolling through Danny Brown content on Instagram, she seems to be very aware of her capacity for luxurious samples. She lets you know immediately with “Are You Gone Already” , which samples Billie Eilish’s “when the party's over” . Off the top of my partially focused head, I can’t think of any other song that samples a song that charted so recently. If you read the Genius annotation, this is pitched as a collaboration between Eilish, Minaj, and FINNEAS, but in reality it’s a remix of the pop hit with a partial lyrical alignment between the rap verses and sampled refrain that sets the tone. Meanwhile on “Pin k Friday Girls” and “Super Freaky Girl,” Minaj attempts to assemble poppy anthems around “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” and “Super Freak,” respectively. A common criticism of rap, uttered by many including Prince, is that sampling is a way to construct your ‘music’ entirely around someone else’s work. This implies that a rapper jumps in the studio and begins vocalizing over a slightly restructured version of someone else’s original. Anyone who’s listened to intricate sample-work, (check out The Alchemist), would understand this is an inaccurate, outmoded take. And now you’ll have to brace yourself for an immediate contradiction. On all three of the aforementioned songs, Minaj only makes slight alterations to the original song, cutting verses and adding drums and bass. She even lazily chipmunks Blondie’s “Heart of G lass” f or the chorus of “My Life” . The basic repackaging of all these former hits allows Nicki Minaj to lay down different personas over a canvas that was painted for her. This is a fine strategy on paper, but so is fouling Shaquille O’Neil every time he touches the ball. It’s just not what we’re here for. Danny Brown didn’t have the money to spend, but he spent it anyway on creative sample selection, which he wove into one of the most unique individual album soundscapes in hip-hop history. So after five years away, Nicki Minaj had plenty of money to spend, and she chose to spend it on a random shuffle of chart-topping hits. The Flows Switching to the positive, Nicki Minaj has one of the most multifaceted vocal delivery skillsets of all time. She can rap in a variety of speeds, moods, even accents. At this stage in her career, sustaining an elite level of vocal expertise is easier said than done. Legendary rappers like Eminem or Q Tip, for example, have been rendered vocally unimpressive in recent years. In other words, it’s possible to age out of your flows. Minaj hasn’t. Pink Friday 2 ’s second track, “ Barbie Dangerous,” comes out firing as the jumping-off point of the album. She works with pace and precision, setting a high standard that she maintains for the majority of the album. Whether it’s going bar-for-bar with J Cole (he’s on a tear) on “Let Me Calm Down,” embracing Lil Uzi Vert’s 2023 sound on “Everybody,” bringing in the island sound on “Forward From Trini,” or parading her early-career princess persona on “Pink Friday Girls,” Minaj delivers on expert rap performance after another. That kind of versatility is invaluable. It often allows Minaj to act as her own feature, considering her seamless shapeshifting from verse to verse. Frankly, that’s what holds this album together. The Givens If you listen to Nicki Minaj, this album is nothing new. We know she can rap, and if we’re honest with ourselves, we know she can’t sing. She does it anyway, often singing on her own choruses and refrains despite her access to a plethora of alternative options. This is a stylistically misguided choice that rappers like J Cole also fall victim to. However, unlike Cole, she often compiles mistakes by failing to supply sufficient instrumental backing on songs that emphasize her singing. But, like I said, I knew it was coming. I also knew this album would bring a mixed bag of features. J Cole and Lil Wayne deliver on tracks 6 and 7, while Drake and Future flop on tracks 9 and 19. I also knew there would be a mix of moods, which could be interpreted as aimless or diverse. “Fallin 4 You” is one of the best executed, vulnerable songs of Minaj’s career, while “Bahm Bahm” mirrors Minaj’s classic energy-infused club-radio formula. I knew the album would be defined more by its hits than skips. I knew the Barbs would make sure the album charted regardless of merit. I knew what to expect, and although I hoped for something else, (more out of desperation for the unpredictable than dislike for the usual), I was right. Nicki Minaj made another album, and it’s much like her others. Its mainstream relevance is measured in comparison to her past releases, but in proportion to her current cultural standing. The album scores points for it’s highlights, “Red Ruby Da Sleeze” and “Super Freaky Girl,” to name a few, but loses points since those singles were released 9 and 16 months ago respectively. Pink Friday 2 gave me so little to expand upon that I spent most of my energy analyzing Nicki Minaj’s mindset around sampling. So, to bring this review to a conclusion in a fittingly generic fashion, here’s a cliche to summarize the experience of Pink Friday 2 : For every push in one direction, there’s a pull in another. My disappointment stems from predictability, yet the inalienable positives of the Nicki Minaj sound push this album slightly into positive territory. I think the blank stare with which I’m listening to and writing about this album is the best summation of its quality, but I’ll give it a score nonetheless. Pink Friday 2 is a 5.3/10.

30 Years of Definitely Maybe 9/16/2024 BY: IAN SHERRY On August 30th, 1994, Oasis released their debut album Definitely Maybe . 30 years later, sometime in the days approaching the anniversary of their flagship LP, the Gallaghers let news of their reunion trickle out. That makes this the perfect time to review this deluxe reinstallment of their debut. It’s the very nature of the reunion that peaked my interest. As I journalistically searched for the date of their announcement, it became clear that the news was largely the result of the pop culture rumor mill, with eventual confirmation from the formerly feuding Gallagher brothers. This brand of brit-pop shenanigans is reminiscent of another time. Who doesn’t look back fondly on those massive crowds that surrounded The Beatles , or the tabloid culture of prime American rock & roll? I love Oasis playing into the insatiable passion that humans have for both gossip and music, because it harkens back to that perfect balance between those passions and the pure obsession that fueled rock music in its prime. In fact, Oasis’ talent for retooling British Invasion era music and culture is responsible for much of their notoriety and critical acclaim. Often recognized as a beacon of real rock in a transitional era, it’s fitting that the first track on their debut record is titled “Rock ‘n’ Roll Star” . Staking their claim perhaps? In that very first song you can find a lot of album-spanning tropes, most notably the pace. They immediately establish themselves as a high-octane rock band, with wailing guitars that often act as the secondary focus, boldly supporting the lead vocals. Liam Gallagher mostly sits atop their wall-of-sound style instrumentation, occasionally stepping aside for older brother Noel on guitar, setting a clear pattern for most of the record. Their beefy sound falls just short of relentless, which, depending on the audience, can either capture the listener’s ear or prevent them from resonating with any one part of the song. Therefore, to make their music more digestible, it’s essential to create space within the song structure and the sound itself. Given that Definitely Maybe was a debut record, I’d say all in all Oasis does a solid job of creating breathing room, employing slight differences in pace between vocalist and the band, allowing brief instrumental interjections within the verses, and making the small yet consequential choices needed to customize individual songs. The Beatles-like backing vocals on “Shakermaker” and “Supersonic” are subtle, but by singing a single rising note, they change the landscape of the sound. The vocal filter and flourishing drums on “Bring It On Down” help separate the different elements of the song. Even the extended reverb on “Cigarettes & Alcohol” , which creates just a moment of space before jumping back into the sonically packed second verse, goes a long way towards avoiding the pitfalls of repetition, a tool they use routinely. That kind of attention to detail is what elevates this debut record above those of their talented counterparts. Oasis was indeed a talented band. Unrelenting guitar performances by the Gallaghers litter every song, Tony McCarroll serves as a strong, yet tame presence on drums, and the group’s ability to systematically assemble a complete product is evidenced constantly. For example they build the instrumental backing for “Shakemaker” one piece at a time, rumbling from the tapping of drum sticks to a heavy rock sound in an instant, a la Led Zeppelin . I am truly a sucker for a good instrumental build, however Oasis’ best band-work on this record lies in their breakdowns. On any given song you can hear them prioritize one element of the chorus, either instrumental or vocal, as they begin to subtract other components. The results can vary from rhythmically atypical, like “Rock ‘n’ Roll Star”, to catchy and repetitive like “Columbia” , with most tracks giving way to Noel Gallagher’s always-sturdy guitar. Their ability to start and finish songs effectively gives the record a tangible flow from one track to another, adding to the collective experience. While their instrumental palette on this record is limited in comparison to their later work, and that does put an undeniable limit on the versatility of the sound, their points of emphasis in the structure of the instrumentation make for a cohesive listening experience they’ll never quite replicate. Familiarity. In my 19 years of life I’ve come to understand if there’s one thing people like, it's what they already know. No wonder Oasis triumphed so immediately in the states. In the UK (I’d imagine) there were plenty of bands trying to strike the balance Oasis came initially equipped with, but in the US of A, they weren’t such a common breed. The evidence of punk rock’s unavoidable influence, which may have been overly familiar across the pond, could in theory, have gone unnoticed or felt more exotic here. In practice, a song like “Live Forever” certainly benefits. The most popular song on the record holds that title because of its familiar American Rock influences - hard to miss especially in the guitar solo. With this familiar instrumental foundation, the pure Brit vocal performance blends in seamlessly and Liam Gallagher comes across as an approachably quirky frontman, instead of tardy British invader. Familiarity can be a curse as well, one Oasis will become all too familiar with in the following years via the commercial excesses of “Wonderwall” and they had to wrestle with on this record as well. They establish their MO so immediately on the first 2 tracks that equally strong songs of a similar hue like “Columbia” or “Slide Away” can lose their luster. It’s a demon Oasis battles on this record and every release that follows, driving their development as a band, and in part fueling the heated disagreements that eventually got the best of them. Reviewing Definitely Maybe - 30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition retrospectively - and it really is a retrospective review of the original since the deluxe edition offers nothing more than cleaner mixes and instrumentally thinner versions of the same songs - it's impossible to ignore the evidence of Oasis’ final form. More tender and nostalgic songs like “Digsy’s Diner” and “Married With Children” get more popular in the post alt-rock era, and the band joins that trend with some of their biggest hits not long after. The slightly softened Oasis didn’t come without skillful advancements, with elements such as the piano on “Digsy’s Diner” emerging as strengths within their evolving sound in the late 90’s / early 2000’s. Like many debuts before and after them, Oasis would never be the same band they were in 1994. They’d never be more punk, more Manchester, than they were on Definitely Maybe ; just like Nirvana would never be more raw, more Seattle than they were on Bleach , and Led Zeppelin would never be more blues, more London than they were on Led Zeppelin I . It’s not as much of an issue as it is a reality, but this anniversary provided an opportunity to live in a different reality, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Definitely Maybe is an 8.7. Definitely Maybe - 30th Anniversary Deluxe Edition isn’t worth scoring separately.

Tabs On Tigers: In Memorium 10/27/2025 BY: IAN SHERRY On October 10, the Detroit Tigers were eliminated from the MLB Postseason. Tabs On Tigers Vol. 5 Is anyone surprised? Something about the intensity of my Tigers fandom and the connectedness I feel with fellow fans makes me unrealistically confident that I can speak for everyone. So in regard to the question above, our answer is no. Last year, General Manager Scott Harris and Manager AJ Hinch enjoyed the spoils of public opinion as their squad’s late-season comeback placed them in rare postseason company, but this year brought a historically singular collapse. The story of the Tigers’ eventual demise is simple, and it began at the trade deadline. The specifics of Scott Harris’ acquisitions on July 31 spawned a million complaints and a few simple questions. ‘Why these guys?’ is a question that kept 97.1 phone lines hot for the duration of August and September, as the Tigers squandered a 15.5-game divisional lead. Following the righteous elimination of our wounded cats in Seattle, the collective’s questions are changing. The focus has shifted away from the forgettable acquisitions and onto the attitude of the front office. What were they thinking? Scott Harris’ actions were those of a middling team with reserved playoff ambitions, not the number 1 team in baseball. Kyle Finnegan and Raphael Montero made for intriguing projects down the stretch, and proved themselves roster-worthy come October, unlike Charlie Morton or Chris Paddock. However, roster worthiness is not the scale by which playoff-bound teams calculate their deadline moves. Where was the hunger? In the days of Dave Dombrowski, a strong Tigers team could expect an addition to the middle of the batting order or starting rotation. With Javier Baez signed to the single costly contract on a promising roster full of moderately talented players with shallow experience, D would not have hesitated to pounce on a $30 million player. Harris didn’t have to look far. Former division rivals Carlos Correa, Shane Bieber, and Josh Naylor should be familiar to Tigers fans, as should Eugenio Suarez and his career-high 49 homers. Did he know? The Tigers could have won the World Series. With Skubal and Mize, the playoff experienced Flaherty, and a legitimate edition to the rotation, the staff would have been perfectly suited for a 5-game series. The bullpen was not playoff-worthy, but it was just a dominant arm away from serviceable. The batting order far surpassed its offensive production of 2024, but you could feel the breeze of their bats from the upper deck during the cold stretches, the longest of which came with the changing weather. Yes, Scott Harris faced problems, but concrete solvable problems of endlessly greater simplicity than those faced by Al Avila, Harris’ scapegoated predecessor. Avila was all too aware of the difficulty of the ‘rebuilding’ task he inherited (to the point of paralysis). Harris on the other hand, seemed unfamiliar with the position he found himself in entering August – a competitive, yet incomplete team sitting gingerly atop the American League. It seems unlikely that Harris didn’t believe in the squad’s World Series potential, considering their record at the break. Yet it feels even less probable that he thought they were a sure-in. Did Scott Harris try but and fail to improve the Tigers roster amid the competitive inter-team market? Did he fail to earn he respect of other organizations? Did he lose his grip on the goal at hand – improving the team for a postseason run - while clinging to his prospects? Or did he just flat out fail to make a sincere effort? Scott Harris did not commit any philosophical misdeeds. He is not the only person to blame, just the easiest. Sure, AJ Hinch’s oddball bullpen management may have cost the Tigers a game or two in October, and Riley Greene’s acknowledgement of his strikeout problem confirms a fundamental issue at the top of the order. Furthermore, injuries to the rotation plague Detroit year in and year out, and the bullpen is undeniably mediocre. Yet, there they were in the postseason once again, poised to make a deeper run – if only… Even after taking the opposite path into the fall, the Tigers once again hit the road for the AL Wild Card Series to dispose of their opponents - this time a weakened Cleveland team – and again the Tigers, behind Cy Young winner Tarik Skubal, fell in game five of the ALDS to a division winner. In other words, a season that flaunted positive results of the faithful but tentative mindset of this Tigers regime managed to end where it began: second place in the division and ALDS losers. Déjà vu. Now, Scott Harris is reportedly reviving his pursuit of Alex Bregman, who unsurprisingly snubbed the Tigers for Boston, only to opt out of his 2-year $40 million deal in search of more money - (they should call him ‘Breadman’) - making his injury-riddled 2025 season a prove-it campaign devoid of proof. Will Harris really chase that dragon for another winter? Will you?

Tabs On Tigers: Atop The American 5/9/2025 BY: IAN SHERRY On May 2, 2025, the Tigers released Kenta Maeda. The Tigers are the best team in the American League, and they are beginning to act like it. Tabs On Tigers Vol. 3 For a long time, I’ve dreamt that the Tigers would see success with rising prospects and, with the intention of taking themselves seriously, cut Javier Baez to free themselves of his $28 million-mid-career crisis and a roster spot. This is that moment. However, in the undeniably turbulent developments of the last year-plus, it was the Japanese legend Kenta Maeda’s $14 million contract that needed to be shed. Meanwhile, Javier Baez is, for the moment, the Detroit Tigers’ everyday centerfielder. The former all-star shortstop’s infamous struggles at the plate lost him his position to Dodgers’ system acquisition and frequenter of Anaheim’s short porch Trey Sweeney. Forced into a utility role, Baez took on the role enthusiastically, according to manager AJ Hinch on 97.1 FM’s pregame AJ Hinch Show. In that same interview, Hinch added that he’d continue to play Baez because “he’s a winning player” – a compliment that resonated with me. Weeks later, Hinch remained true to that insistence, and Baez has responded accordingly. On top of playing a smooth, instinctive center field Javy is looking like himself consistently at the plate. The hitter that can adjust to pitches and drive balls, who’s only shown up in flashes for Detroit, mostly with runners in scoring position, is showing up on a more consistent basis this season. He’s bumped his average to a perfect .313 over the recent Tigers offensive explosions and is sitting at a 1.6 WAR. In other words, he’s a winning player. As for those prospects, one in particular is starting to act his age. Spencer Torkelson looked like a new man in Spring Training. His stance is more athletic and upright, centered on his right leg. So far, the adjustments he’s retained have allowed for a simpler path to the ball, most notable in his compact homerun swings, of which he’s already had 10 (2 shy of Judge and Raleigh for the most in the AL). Torkelson’s .254 batting average is encouraging, though it fluctuates, and the theoretical benefits of power hitter status may lead to more on-base appearances anyhow. Tork’s success has complicated life for sophomore Colt Keith. His rookie season was ultimately a success at the plate after a slow start, which he’s mirrored so far this season. However, the ball is starting to leave the ballpark for the Tigers system product (and I don’t want to hear about the ‘Coors effect’ because 450 ft is 450 ft). Still sitting at just a .207 AVG and 4 homers, Keith is tasked with recreating last season’s offensive ramp-up while establishing himself in the field (the DH position has Kerry Carpenter’s name written all over it for the foreseeable future). One more Tiger prospect has made pleasantly surprising strides on both sides of the ball. With the injury to starting catcher Jake Rogers, Dillon Dingler was pushed into the everyday starting lineup, and he’s proved ready for the moment. So far, Dingler is batting .290, which is second best among catchers. A strong-hitting catcher in an age where putrid offense is tolerated at the defensive-minded position is no small advantage. Dingler is an athletic young player with a great arm, room to improve behind the plate, and the ability to whack the ball out of the park – who wouldn’t like to imagine a long career for him as Detroit’s backstop? Injury Update I imagined Parker Meadows (nerve) might return early in the year, but that proved a pipe dream when the Tigers signed Manuel Margot to a one-year deal. Since then, Meadows was placed on the 60-Day IL and Margot himself went to the 10-day with a knee injury from which he’s rehabbing now. In good news, Matt Vierling (shoulder) homered in a Toledo win on May 6th in his rehab assignment. Things have been quiet regarding Alex Cobb (back) lately, but he tracks to be rehabbing soon assuming no hangups. Jake Rogers (oblique) has begun throwing but is not immediately close to returning. John Brebbia (triceps) and Sawyer Gibson-Long (elbow/hip) have also resumed throwing. The Tigers have a top 3 pitching staff in the MLB, which was a possibility headed into the year, and a top 5 offense, which was not. We’ll see if the bats stay hot, but they are right now (even McKinstry!) and the Tigers are taking advantage. Do not take it for granted.

Pink Tape BY: Ian Sherry 7/16/23 On June 30, 2023, Lil Uzi Vert released Pink Tape. For those who don’t know, Lil Uzi Vert (they/them) is a rapper from Philadelphia. They also share a birthday with me! One of the champions of Soundcloud-Era hip-hop, which birthed numerous stylistic trends (namely widespread autotune usage), Uzi has carved a niche for themselves and their sound within the mainstream of rap music. This niche includes some of the most diehard fans in music today. Perhaps to a fault, Uzi’s fans will back them, and to their credit, they keep the masses on their toes. From getting a gem attached to their forehead, to their increasingly diverse musical endeavors, they know how to play the game. With their 2023 release, they’re doing exactly that: playing games. Lil Uzi Vert has had different variations of success throughout their career. They’ve proven, at times, to be a prolific hit-maker. Their 2023 single “I Just Wanna Rock” is a shining example of this. Uzi also has the ability to make a musically strong and conceptually cohesive album. Their 2017 Luv Is Rage 2 is fantastic. Uzi has it in them. Unfortunately, Pink Tape is a flaming heap of garbage. Uzi feels distracted. They feel lazy, but most of all, they don’t properly represent the talent that they possess. Nothing is more frustrating, especially as a fan of albums, than listening to one that could have been good. Uzi’s 2023 record displays nearly none of the finer points of album construction, but as a brief palate cleanser, here are some positives I dug out of the 26 song monstrosity that is Pink Tape. I have to acknowledge (and hold on for dear life to) the fact that Pink Tape is an aesthetic success. Uzi, who seems to try operating from a holistically creative space, often has an intriguing and carefully constructed public persona; a persona that I wish was more musically present. Uzi themselves are rarely present on their album covers, often opting for a cartoon version or something on the abstract side. In fact, the only album they’re physically present on prior to Pink Tape is Luv Is Rage 2. Unfortunately, the slight visual similarities do not mark a return to 2017 form for Uzi. To me, Luv Is Rage 2 thrives in consistency, they locked in on a style and beat it to death in the best way. Meanwhile, Pink Tape’s extremely limited strength is found in diversity. You may be saying ‘well of course there’s diversity, it's 26 songs long’. Don’t assume, Uzi will prove you wrong. In 26 songs Uzi managed to put together one truly compelling stretch of songs, and they did everyone a favor by grouping them together so we can conveniently skip the rest. Although Nicki Minaj and Don Toliver donated songs to the cause at tracks 11 and 20, Uzi’s solo success is limited to tracks 14-17. Out of 26. I’ll save you the finger math, it’s not a good ratio, but since I’m supposed to be covering the good I’ll start at “Nakamura”. Named for WWE star Shinsuke Nakamura, Uzi samples the wrestler’s entrance song. It provides the high-energy arena vibe they were aiming for, accomplishing something that Uzi chased unsuccessfully throughout the first 9 songs of the album. It’s nothing complicated, but combined with a solid vocal performance from Uzi, the result is a fun song. “Nakamura” had to be good because it's immediately followed by one of the most intoxicating songs of the year. “I Just Wanna Rock” is Lil Uzi Vert’s club masterpiece. It’s pure energy, it’s overly simple, it’s overplayed, it’s New Jersey club, it's what music has come to, but at the same time, it’s perfect. Uzi sticks with the club trap for “Fire Alarm” featuring Snow Strippers. The bass presence is essential on this track as is the feature. It brings more chaotic energy to Pink Tape, but this time, it's listenable. There is a way to execute organized chaos, and Snow Strippers may be better suited for that direction. Speaking of direction, as soon as Uzi starts to head in an interestingly cohesive one, they decide to drop in a little metal. “CS” marks a new direction for Uzi yet again. While it isn’t by any means polished, it's exciting to see Uzi explore a direction of interest to them when so much of the album is the same old sound with a different ‘attitude’ or a severe lack of bass. They switch up tempo and intensity frequently on “CS,” and while it doesn’t always flow particularly well, the autotuned vocals float nicely atop stripped down instrumental and contrast nicely with the heavy metal hook. Uzi goes for a metal sound twice more on this record. Both songs do a great job of making “CS” look masterful in comparison. The intentional unpredictability of Uzi is on full display from tracks 14-17, and while that doesn’t by any means redeem Pink Tape, it gives the audience something to take away. Unfortunately, my birthday buddy has given me a plethora of reasons to be disappointed this year. Much like Lil Yachty, who actually branched out this year, Uzi has a tendency to make some of the most repetitive music known to man. This can last a verse, a song, or an entire album. It’s certainly an issue on Pink Tape, and although it’s a stylistic choice, it still upsets me. The first nine songs of the album have lots of issues beyond repetition though, from borderline incoherent verses to low quality instrumental samples. What bothers me the most is the blatant lack of low-end to the mixes. There’s not enough bass, pure and simple. Bass is essential in Hip-Hop. It can hold together a beat, guide the rhythm, or even become the centerpiece in place of a traditional rhythm section, like contemporary Michigan rap production often does. Uzi and his football roster of producers seem to have forgotten that until track ten. Nine consecutive bad songs to start a 26 song album! I can’t speak to whether or not this is a stylistic choice, but I don’t care. I can’t look past this level of questionable output from supposedly professional studios, much less listen to it. Uzi littered bones for me to pick throughout the entirety of this album, but the worst of all is the overarching issue of album construction. There are endless factors that go into the proper construction of an album; it’s an artform in itself. Uzi checks one single box with Pink Tape: a good cover. There’s different approaches to making an album. I split them into two categories. An album can be a simple collection of musically cohesive songs. Whether it transverses genres as it progresses or sticks in the same vein, the key to this kind of album is a balance of quality and stylistic flow. The second type is a little bit harder to execute: an album as an idea. It requires taking a concept, whether it's a feeling, experience, statement, all of those things, or none of those things, and creating a set of songs that flow into one another as one continuous story, which upon zooming out paints a complete picture for the audience. So, once again, there are two different types of albums. I don’t necessarily have a preference, but I believe there are two distinctly different directions, so attempting to go somewhere in the middle is dangerous and failing to hit either results in a conceptual failure regardless of the musical merit. Pink Tape is a conceptual failure. There is no definitive theme. The closest they get to a theme is the repeated declaration that Lil Uzi Vert is not in fact gay (something I wasn’t even aware was a topic of discussion). I have nothing to say on the matter other than that is not a theme, especially not in the way Uzi executes it. As far as albums go, because it lacks any sort of theme or intentional direction, as well as a cohesive grouping of music, Pink Tape is nothing. There is no redeemable factor to this record’s existence, and on top of that, there’s an hour and a half of it. I don’t know why Uzi made Pink Tape and it doesn’t feel like they do either. As a fan (who they profit off), an album is a semi-sacred occasion, and as an artist, disregarding the importance of that does everyone involved (minus those who profit) a disservice. Despite the bright spots, I won’t lie, Uzi has done themselves and their fans a disservice this year. Pink Tape is a 3.5/10

Igor: How Did It Age? By: Ian Sherry 11/18/2024 I once saw a clip of a radio show or something (I wish I could remember to give proper credit) where this guy did impressions of rappers and then explained how different artists rap from different places - Biggie from his stomach, Tupac from his heart, JAY-Z from the top of his throat - you get the idea. He had clearly studied their creative process with his ears well enough to replicate it. Impressive. When it comes to Tyler The Creator (who raps from a variety of places), I’d like to focus on a different part of the creative process - inspiration. Before you can rap or pursue any creative endeavor, you have to draw inspiration. In the morbidly broad field that is ‘music’, there is a wide variety in quality depending on the alignment of motivation, setting, and talent. Not all of these alignments are made equal - the periods where an artist is sufficiently motivated in an inspiring setting result in the very best music, and they don’t last forever. Tyler The Creator is a period artist, meaning he has encountered and capitalized on several crucial moments - several alignments of those 3 crucial factors - throughout his artistic career. While it’s hard to determine from the outside looking in and only he can truly know where his music comes from, it seems obvious that Tyler had a shift in inspiration between his Odd Future era releases and his coming of age record Flower Boy . Following that jump in maturity, with his motivation, setting, and talent level evolving once again he embarked on his 3rd, most inspired period: Igor . As we border on what could be the horizon of a new era with his latest release CHROMAKOPIA , I thought it was the perfect time to revisit Tyler’s unforgettable 2019. IGOR: How Did It Age? What I’m ultimately trying to express with my ‘period’ concept is that an artist's ability to draw inspiration has a major impact on the potential of the product. Tyler is just too good of an illustration: the Igor period seems to have lasted just one year and was the result of a creative wildfire that began to kindle in the artistic rock bottom that many perceive Cherry Bomb to be. In contrast, Call Me If You Get Lost was a recovery effort in the aftermath of said wildfire. Following what I can only imagine were life-altering changes that came with his sudden emergence on Pop Culture’s center stage and the subsequent pandemic, Tyler spoke about hitting a creative rut. He also mentioned that a certain Westside Gunn helped him find inspiration again, hence the boastful pseudo-fashion rap nature of his 2021 album. Gunn is powered by this cycle of professionally inspired inspiration that consists of finding joy in success, remembering and reminding how he came upon that success, and using all of that as motivation to go get more. Tyler tapped into that cycle of success and leaned safely into his strengths on the last record; that’s why I loved it, but that’s also why it isn’t an era-defining type of record. He’s not Tyler The Gunn, he’s Tyler The Creator, and Tyler created Igor . If it’s so great why do I need to revisit it? Well, now I have a confession to make. Igor really is all the things I built it up to be, but recently I had this startling thought: is it actually good music? Pundits were quick to jump on the freight train that was Tyler’s uber-alternative new sound for a variety of reasons: first, progressive-edged subject matter gives any project a boost, second, his metamorphosis from an off-color goofball rapper to a self-serious embodiment of his latest album was shocking, and lastly, the sound itself is so intentionally abrasive and self-aware it becomes difficult to critique. Of course, the critics could have said something like ‘This music sucks because I don’t like it’, but that’s not why they get paid the big bucks. I joke, but it is actually that last point I’d like to revisit. Despite my readiness to be blown away by it, I remember being a little unsure if I even liked the album when it first came out. I’d never heard anything like it, and I still really haven’t, but there everyone was celebrating it as one of the decade’s best musical moments, so I followed suit. Next thing I knew, I was watching YouTubers break down the album’s storyline. That’s because in 2019 being a fan of Igor was a lot of fun. The communal excitement music can generate is infectious, and nostalgic memories of this album’s fever-pitch reception will always positively factor into its aging process, but I wonder if retrospect will show the same kindness to the sound itself. Now, if I’ve properly introduced this album, you ought to be wondering was it the excitement that elevated the album to an alt music masterpiece, or does it truly measure up over time? Let’s dig in. To appreciate Igor you must first digest its sound. Some do quicker than others, and I think that depends entirely on your own personal tastes. If you listen to a lot of Tyler’s music, you can get a good idea of where the Igor sound sprung from, but if this album were your first encounter with Tyler, there’s a much wider variety of ways you might experience, understand, and classify it. For example, I’m listening to Portishead as I write this article and there are definite similarities between their more hip-hop-aware periods and Tyler’s more atmospheric trip-hop style. One is a British rock band, the other an American rapper who’s banned from the UK, but their sonic spectrums overlap to a point. I could easily imagine being a big Portishead fan listening to Igor for the first time and experiencing track 1 as a popified relative of my favorite band. That’s because “IGOR’S THEME” starts the record off with a heavy-handed display of the big droning synths, 808s, and heavy distortion that give the album its edge. It also establishes a noticeably high pace that adds to the mystique of the sound and can be adjusted to aid the albums storytelling through tone. All that is to say, it’s the perfect song to start the album. Those kinds of project-focused decisions must’ve come so easily to Tyler The Creator in 2019. Most transitions on this album are fairly seamless and the outliers feel intentionally excused for one reason or another. Track 2 “EARFQUAKE” , the album’s biggest hit, introduced Igor ’s newly established stylistic palette to the mainstream, and, in tandem with Playboi Carti , Tyler rode his unconventionally altered vocals to number 5 on the Billboard before transitioning effortlessly to track 3. “I THINK” is built with a lot of the same bones you’d find in Kanye West’s prime production and begins to settle subtly into Tyler’s more familiar poppy alt-rap stomping grounds. Post the smoothly incorporated interlude track 4 , Tyler remains in his wheelhouse on “RUNNING OUT OF TIME” . Having established that sonic edge in track 1, given the album a sound-defining candidate in track 2, and maintained the usage of his quirky new vocal stylings throughout, Tyler The Creator already cultivated a potent sonic theme by the 5th song. Because it's so strong, that theme, or at least its influence remains present even on a sonically lighter song like “RUNNING OUT OF TIME”, building tension that draws the listener in and elevates the effectiveness of the song's progressions. That theme’s constant presence also makes it easy to jump into Igor mode. For instance, on track 6, “NEW MAGIC WAND” , as Tyler The Creator’s alter-ego permanently enters the album’s plot, he returns to the heavy-handed electronic atmosphere of “IGOR’S THEME” to go with a grinding horrorcore-esque rapping performance. The stylistic flexibility Tyler allowed himself made it possible to place songs like those back to back. Without the ability to make tough transitions work, he couldn’t have properly communicated the topsy-turvy love affair Igor intended. "A BOY IS A GUN" Despite all the superlatives, sometimes I get the feeling that this is less of a perfect album, and more of a well-executed gameplan, one that’s impossible to poke holes in. He chose an intentionally imperfect sound that negates any criticisms of sonic unpleasantries, took the liberty of dipping into his comfort zone despite the ambitions of his new sound, aligned it with a lyrical plot that supports his musical decisions, and gave songs that wouldn’t necessarily stand up well on their own a slot that allows them to thrive. There’s lots of circumstantial evidence building to support the idea that this is more of a great plan than it is a great album, so this is when I point to track 7. When I review albums, I review just that - the album. My focus is on the strength of each song of course, but as it pertains to their inclusion in the whole. Rarely do I give extended time-of-day to any particular song because it only represents a fraction of the total experience. I prefer it that way because a single song in a vacuum can become exhaustive. This however is a special occasion. “A BOY IS A GUN” arrived at a crucial point in the album. Following a back-to-back display of songs on polar opposite sides of the album’s sound, Tyler The Creator delivered the perfect semblance of their pieces. It has the build of a hip-hop song as he immediately establishes the beat and hook, making transitions between well-rapped verses seamless for the length of the song. The lyrics excellently navigate the rising action of his album-long romance with the vicious honesty of a man who’s finally out of patience. His herky-jerky flow makes for addictive listenability, as does the stop-and-go he expertly wove into the structure of the song to maintain tension and therefore your attention, leaving you susceptible to its many instrumental shifts. “A BOY IS A GUN” is as smooth, challenging, and unique as any song on the album, making it the perfect Igor song. ...anyway Here’s a metaphor for all you drinkers! Listening to “PUPPET” on the tail of the best song on the album is my version of a terrible hangover. Is it that bad of a song? In the grand scheme of things no, but it highlights everything I struggle with on the album. Its lack of pace creates a subsequent failure in the Igor formula. With more time to process, it's easy to hear some of the iffy instrumental quality - little imperfections that Tyler swept under the rug of electronic commotion in order to achieve a larger-scale sound. On top of that, the Kanye feature is complete garbage that Tyler attempted to fashion into usable material, and the bridge is a turd. I could go on but I won’t - it’s about the album remember? The singular skid of the album continues with “WHAT’S GOOD” (the song sure isn’t), which stands as Tyler’s only production miss on the record. It fails to catch any groove and rotates unsatisfyingly between two beats I really don’t care for. Luckily, with his duds out of the way, Tyler was ready to finish the album strong. The final three songs are a perfect example of the album supporting the songs. They all exemplify the album’s sound in some way or another, benefit significantly from their placement in the narrative as well as the tracklist, and have greater relevance within the complete package than they would on their own. Track 10 is “GONE GONE / THANK YOU” . Igor ’s falling action begins with a great build. The intro draws you in and the thankfully listenable instrumental is nicely accompanied by his chipmonked vocals. In my opinion, this is one of the few occasions on the album where a strong performance in his natural voice wouldn’t have sufficed or been preferable, as his autotune allows him to marry with the music in a way he couldn’t have otherwise. Then, I think just for me, he spat a great verse in his normal voice before giving way to the second part of the song which feels like a glorified outro for the first. “I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE” represents the end of the romance, and sets the final stage with one of Tyler’s cleanest trip-hop/alt-hip-hop cuts to date. Then lastly, “ARE WE STILL FRIENDS” takes that listenability to the next level with a bright little soul sample that lays the groundwork for its lengthy build. It winds up and breaks itself down to some increasingly faint electric guitar, before roaring back one more time for the album's grandiose, cinematic closing moments. It’s a fittingly overdone last track, in hue of “Stand Tall” from Childish Gambino’s masterpiece Awaken My Love , and it brings Igor to a proper end. It’s time to return to that question I made you pose to yourself in the beginning (moment in time or masterpiece?). As a person who was there in 2019 experiencing Tyler’s takeover, its impossible to separate the album from its initial existence. The obsessive fanfare elevated Igor at the time, there’s no question, but I have my own question. If it can elevate it then, why not now? If an album relies on audience buy-in to thrive, as long as the audience keeps buying in, it remains a validated piece of art - it works. Five years after its release, Igor still works. I was pleasantly surprised to find that an album whose sound was such a product of the moment has maintained its complexity. I was afraid that by digging in I might start to see through the world Tyler created, that I might not be able to get past surface-level blemishes. To an extent the aging process isn’t preventable - it comes with familiarity - but, I’m very familiar with Igor, and while it might not necessarily soar to the heights it did in its early ragingly successful existence, it will survive. That’s because no matter how this particular sound develops, regardless of who might come along and do it better, and despite the occasionally spotty quality that comes with carving out a new niche, the album’s greatest strengths will remain unaffected. It is a story with a beginning and end, an all-encompassing thematic undertaking, a meaningful and relatable message, and a complete intentionally unified piece of music. Igor is an 8.5 .

Stranger Things Season 5, Vol. 1 By Dawson Sarcona 12/5/2025 Stranger Things Season 5 Vol. 1 has officially dropped, and with it, the end of a decades-long franchise has begun. As someone who has been on the Stranger Things train since 2018, this franchise has been a crucial part of my development as a person. This is hands down one of my favorite TV shows of all time, so the fifth season had a lot of anticipatory weight to it. With this in mind, it's only fair to review this first volume (which only consists of four episodes) episode by episode. Season Five, Episode One: The Crawl A season opener is always a tough task. Especially following a one-year time jump, it can be difficult to write a cohesive first episode that lets the audience know what characters have been up to and simultaneously jump-starts the story for the rest of the season. That being said, this episode does a great job of balancing catching us up and building stories for the future. Dustin’s character arc provides some of the best moments of the season. This episode wavers in the quality of writing from the rest of the season - shaking off the rust. There are a few select scenes that probably could have been cut, as the writing stands out against the distinct tone of the series. Rather than setting up interactions and showing how characters are feeling, it felt like a lot more exposition dialogue rooted solely in just saying things that are happening. All in all, this re-entry into the world of Stranger Things takes its time setting up new character dynamics and leaves the audience with one of the best cliffhangers in the history of the show. This episode is an 8.5/10. Season Five, Episode Two: The vanishing of Holly Wheeler This episode follows the cliff hanger with the previous episode with a cold open that show creator calls the craziest they’ve ever done. With such a strong beginning of the episode, the rest pales in comparison. “The vanishing of Holly Wheeler” feels like the most ‘filler’ of the four this volume. It sets up some important mysteries and furthers the development of the new pairings for this season. Finn Wolfhard (Mike), Natalia Dyer (Nancy), and Nell Fisher (Holly) all deliver exceptional performances this episode. For Mike and Nancy, this feels like a return to leading forms we haven’t really seen since the end of season one. The two siblings working together, bouncing off each other, is something I’ve really missed and their strength is one of the best things to come out of these episodes. This season Mike also seems to fall back into his role as the leader of the party (Mike fans rejoice) For a new character, Holly is a great addition and does a great job fitting in with the environment of the show almost immediately. All that being said, this episode feels the most dragged out and at times feels boring. There’s also an increase in some of the iffy dialogue from the previous episode. Overall, episode two is a 7/10. Season Five, Episode Three: The Turnbow Trap Episode three immediately picks up from the slower pace of its successor. This episode introduces the other new breakout character from this season: Derek Turnbow. This kid is an immediate favorite of the internet - why? He is hilarious. Everything he says is delivered perfectly for the comedic relief needed to bring some light to what has so far been the darkest and most mature season. The addition of kids like Derek and Holly in this season is great because it brings the show back to its roots of being about young kids and monsters, while still being able to tell the stories of our original party and they grow up. Additionally, episode three pulls from “Home Alone” in one of the best sequences of the series. Scenes like that provide some of the volume’s best moments, where we get to see the classic Stranger Things teamwork moments - solving problems in unique and creative ways to defeat a monster. This episode is where the pieces of this story begin to fall into place, and the mystery starts to form. It sets up perfectly for episode four and is a great episode in itself. It’s a near-perfect 9/10 , and it fixes the majority previous episodes’ problems. Season Five, Episode Four: The Sorcerer Episode four is not only the culmination of the volume but, in some ways, a culmination of season 1-4. In this episode, we finally get to see Will Byers step into his own as a character. Since season one, we've been able to see nearly every character grow and develop, and it's felt like Will’s character has been left stagnant. All of Will's victimization and what some would call weak characterization build up to this episode, where we finally get the development we've been waiting for. In addition to this, we get some satisfying conclusions to the micro-mysteries set throughout the volume. The way this episode comes together is something marvelous. This episode defines what a great show is all about in showing perfect character growth, that creates a top 3 scene in the show hands down. To create an episode that tells its own story, bridges the gaps on the rest of the volume and sets up a really excellent arc for the rest of the show is not something that's easily accomplished. This episode does it flawlessly, a true 10/10 and the highest rated episode of the show to date. In conclusion, this season so far is a big success. It feels like a near-perfect continuation of the fourth season’s vibe and a proper upscaling for the concluding season of the series. This show is very important to me and has been for a lot of other people my age; we’ve grown up with it. While it's sad to see this show approach its conclusion, I’m very happy with with its swan song thus far. There are still some moments of iffy dialogue, things that just feel off, which is likely the product of the increased number gaps bridged in the writing this season. It seems with season 5 they may have hit their limit with how much one writer's room can handle while maintaining good quality writing. At this rate, season five definitely resides within the top three of the show! I’d give volume one an average rating of 8.5 out of 10. Given the end of the volume it's clear whatever “fifth-season-funk” may have plagued the writers for the first few episodes is gone, and they're ready to deliver more mysteries, scares, and emotional endings for our favorite characters in volume 2 and 3.

11/3/2023 BY IAN SHERRY THREE PIECE VOL. II On October 13: Westside Gunn released And Then You Pray For Me . MIKE released Burning Desire . Troye Sivan released Something To Give Each Other . Westside Gunn embodies a very special lane in contemporary hip-hop. His unique, adlib-heavy committee rap combines with semi-organic instrumentals for a truly recognizable sound. He combines Buffalo NY pride with themes of grandeur like high-society fashion, which thrusts him further into his niche. He is the one of the key faces of an off-center breed of hip-hop artists that includes Action Bronson , Freddie Gibbs , or Gunn’s longtime collaborators Benny The Butcher and Conway The Machine . It’s hard to understand Westside Gunn’s world from the outside. Luckily, he invests his time and talent time fleshing it out for the benefit of his audience. One listen through Pray For Paris or Hitler Wears Hermes 7 should do the trick, as will a listen through And Then You Pray For Me . Because Gunn has settled so specifically on a sound, it’s reasonable to assume you know what’s coming stylistically. He’s consistent, and if you enjoy his style, chances are you’ll come away with at least a few favorite tracks from every album. What really makes a Westside Gunn album at this stage in his career is the thematic exploits and the collaborations. He delivered in both categories in 2023. Artists flaunting their lifestyle is absolutely nothing new, however, it’s cool when he does it. With consistent references to Paris Fashion Week and a variety of globetrotting ventures, Gunn displays himself as a man of international intrigue and his world as something straight out of the movies. The addition of DJ Drama , who recently brought Tyler The Creator into a similar realm, sets that tone early on, reenforcing Gunn's ability to construct an album. Composing cohesive albums and replicating his creative, yet formulaic sound are certainly accomplishments, however, the strongest moments of this new release involve new faces. Aside from the usual suspects, several artists supplied great features: JID , Rick Ross , and Denzel Curry to name a few. All three of them excel in featured verses, and Westside Gunn excels at accommodating them, especially Curry. The best, most unexpected success is “Chloe” featuring Ty Dolla $ign . To be clear, Ty is quite possibly my favorite feature artist, but I didn’t envision him here. His mark on track 12 is immediately clear. He harmonizes with Gunn throughout his verse, then gives his own bars. The atmosphere of the song is different than anything else on this record, and the sonic smoothness, which Ty Dolla $ign always brings, takes it to another level. That’s just one song though. The biggest contributor on this album deserves his own review: Stove God Cooks . I’ve seldom seen someone so underground make such a big impact on a big name record, a la Mr. Fantastik . He raps like an expert in different styles and cadences, doing whatever the song needs on all five of his features. “KITCHEN LIGHT” and “1989” are my favorite, but if you listen to this album and see Stove God Cooks’ name under the next song, just know it'll be good. On Then You Pray For Me, Westside Gunn put emphasis on his belief that music is more than its face value, it's art. He backs that up. Granted, it’s not a perfect album, there are misses. But, this is how you construct a 21 song album. It moves along nicely with both diversity and consistency, while delivering surprising successes. I’m very pleased, and while there’s nothing too innovative to boost its score, it’s my favorite rap record of the year thus far. Am I biased? Yes, but consumption without preference is impossible. Westside Gunn makes music to please his audience, and as a member of that audience, I’m more than satisfied. That makes this a success for me. I’ll leave you with a Stove God Cooks lyric, “Then West turned me from a rapper to an artpiece” (“Babylon Bis”). Then You Pray For Me is a 8/10. MIKE is making a push to join the next generation of influential rappers from New York. Much like the other Bandcamp success stories, his influences are rangy. Bandcamp is a music listening alternative to the typical streaming model, meant to more directly support the artists. Artists like Bjork and Radiohead re-released their music there, industry legends like Waajeed reside there, and other musical acts like Car Seat Headrest , Quadeca , and now MIKE have seen growth through the platform. It is a pro-artist attitude that draws musicians to the site. That attitude is responsible for a wide variety of creative results, levels of success, and quality. Variety can certainly be found on Burning Desire , and the record’s high points should secure MIKE the respect and standing within hip-hop he’s pursuing. MIKE is a sort of studio do-it-all, but he has one area that needs improvement. He can rap, but the best performances don’t take place until the end of the record. I recommend “Golden Hour” and “Let’s Have a Ball” , and I’d like to highlight the latter. The last song on the album, track 24 is built on a spacy instrumental that places MIKE’s rapping in center focus. He lays down a clear and patient verse, feeling more comfortable on the mic here than anywhere previously on the album, and sticking to the same cadence but allowing himself subtle pauses. He raps with a laid-back swagger that gives the audience the choice of where to focus their attention, without fading into obscurity behind the instrumental. Unfortunately, and this is my biggest issue with MIKE: his vocals often disappear on this record. MIKE is a production machine, using heavy samplework and audio filters to create impressive soundscapes, but his rapping can’t always keep up. He feels like he’s just trying to hold pace, other times his energy doesn’t match the beat. On top of that, his flows often are unchanged for the length of songs. With production as creative as his, there’s pressure on the performance to be equally entertaining. That’s where JPEGMAFIA or Danny Brown excels; I eat up their verses. While he isn’t a bad lyricist, I can’t digest MIKE’s lyrical content on an empty stomach. To be fair, the majority of his rapping isn’t horrible, but the discrepancy between production and vocal performative ability stands out. This doesn’t kill the album by any means, but it puts a ceiling on an artist that feels like he shouldn’t have one. I’m confident he’ll improve, the flashes are potent. Album construction is very important to me. I review albums subjectively and score albums holistically, and MIKE has given me a lot to work with. This album, despite its flaws, has such highs that it could’ve been an album of the year candidate. Unfortunately, it’s 24 songs long. If it was 35 minutes instead of 50 this is a different conversation. He does a good job of keeping songs at reasonable lengths, but it is still a dense listen. Density, in this context, means there’s no time to come up for air. The audience is forced to take in every second of every song for the entire 24. Density in itself isn’t bad, in fact, Marvin Gaye ’s What’s Going On (the greatest album of all time), is extremely dense. However, Marvin’s masterpiece is 9 songs over 35 minutes with zero wasted space, zero misses. This ain’t that. Aside from the length though, MIKE seems to know what he’s doing. The introductory and final tracks masterfully guide the audience in and out of the album, the sole interlude is on point, the majority of the features are fantastic, and the song placement and transitions are well-executed. This is the work of a veteran, but after a quick google search you’d see, like I did, that MIKE is 25 years young. I was very critical in reviewing this album. That’s because it deserved it. Burning Desire is the best produced album of the year, bar none. It’s so good that I couldn’t do it justice through description; you need to hear it for yourself. Music I can’t pretend to properly describe is rare, and for that alone it deserves mentions in the end-of-year conversation. It has its weaknesses that limit it in ways comparably successful albums aren’t limited, but, its high points are undeniable. Burning Desire is a 8.5/10. Prior to this Troye Sivan album, I only knew one of his songs, and I don’t like it. The judgment I passed following my brief introduction to Sivan was that of another perpetuator of the dying pop standard. The critical success of the whiny male vocalists, simple instrumentals, repetitive choruses, and predictable builds, that defined a generation of pop music, is coming to an end. The monetary success will be more stubborn, but that too will fade without the support of critical voices. It is the nature of cultural cycles; they turn over and new eras defined by new artists roll in. It seemed to me that Troye Sivan would be one of many swept out with the tide. While I can’t rule that out, his 2023 album Something To Give Each Other makes me think twice. Many artists lose sight of their vision when they overcomplicate things. Troye Sivan, on the other hand, must have complexity. Without it, he is like any other artist. Luckily, I learned he has the ability to set himself apart when he chooses. Vocally and lyrically, he is nothing unique, but when he alters his delivery he can set himself apart. “Rush” is the first example. The upbeat dance track thrives on simple and clear verses, however, what makes the song for me is the chorus. The washy group vocal creates an atmosphere and his solo refrain audibly pulsates, creating a sonically mesmerizing effect. It elevates an already catchy track, and that’s what pop music needs. Vocal effects can also save an otherwise nondescript song like “Silly” . There are various species of vocal tampering across the album. I’m no production expert, but pitch and volume changes, audio filters, and classic autotune are all noticeable additions. Autotune in particular is very polarizing. Many mainstream pop acts avoid it, especially if they fancy themselves pure singers. That’s why someone like Post Malone exists: he chose to embrace autotune and cultivated an audience who ‘doesn’t normally like rap’. The truth is Malone is nowhere near rap, but the association is there. Troye Sivan doesn’t shy away from an unconscious affiliation with hip-hop and I appreciate that, however, I need more. For every positive experiment on this record, Sivan has an equally negative failure to branch out. For example, he dips into EDM at times. That’s a genre that suffers from simplicity and repetition, but he is able to take it further on “Got Me Started” . By beginning with the Bag Raiders ’ “Shooting Stars” sample, he hooks the audience before laying down the classic EDM drum beat. From that point he keeps layering the instrumental and showing different looks vocally to keep it fresh. It’s a well executed song. But, he also visits the opposite end of that spectrum with a song like “Honey” . Aside from a very basic and lonely EDM beat, his vocals feel uninspired. He relies on the energy build, and while that aspect is executed to an extent, it falls flat if the audience isn’t hooked in the first place. Everyone is allowed a miss or two, but in Troye Sivan’s position it’s crucial that those misses don’t come at the hands of creative shortcomings. Something To Give Each Other has been very well received. I understand why. It is one of the cleaner records all year, and it still ventures into somewhat unexplored territory. However, in comparison to the album I reviewed just above, it’s beyond safe, more like secret service protected. I just cannot get on board with that. I’m not asking for the next musical renaissance, I’m asking for something I might not hear in the sock aisle at Target or the Starbucks bathroom. Sivan delivers at time, making it more perplexing and frustrating when he doesn’t. That said, even with the flat verses, uninspired production, and choruses I can sing before I hear them, there are strong moments on this record. I hope he keeps heading in the direction of tracks 1, 3, and 7. Those aren’t the only successes out of the ten, but those songs will set Troye Sivan apart and could earn him a spot in the new era I believe is approaching. I’d be happy to have him. Something To Give Each Other is a 5.5/10.

Durand Jones Goes Solo: Wait Til I Get Over BY: Ian Sherry 5/29/23 On May 5, 2023 Durand Jones released Wait Til I Get Over . Over the past five years Durand Jones & The Indications have been making great music. Their 2018 debut self titled album is great, their 2019 American Love Call is easily my favorite contemporary soul album, and their 2021 Private Space is a stylistic swerve done the right way. Now, we get Durand Jones’ first solo album. This doesn’t signal the end of the band. No, Jones made it clear on several occasions leading into his 2023 release that it was a deeply personal project, one that he needed to do himself. Durand Jones’ lack of Indications both intrigued and concerned me. The Indications thrive because of three general strengths (outside of Durand Jones): songwriting, consistently strong musical performances, and Aaron Frazer. Without the rest of his band, could Jones replicate these strengths? After all, the best bands’ songwriting is often a group effort, The Beatles or Queen for example, and Jones is just one man. That throwback sound the band revitalizes in such a refreshing way is difficult to capture, and attempting to recreate that same magic without them would be difficult. Aaron Frazer is The Indications' secret weapon, whose occasional lead vocals provide a great deal of variety, and whose help on choruses or ensemble vocal performances with Jones solidifies the uniqueness of the band's sound. Frazer is absent from this project. However, that was the point, and any of the resulting missteps on Wait Til I Get Over were a part of the calculated risk Durand Jones took going solo this year. So now, the results of his risk: Frankly, I have lots of critiques to roll out, but I'd like to start on a positive note. I love Aaron Frazer, and I was hoping for at least a feature from him; but he’s not needed. Durand Jones is a dynamic vocalist, able to carry nearly any tune and elevate even the most instrumentally bland music. Without that, this album would really struggle, lucky for Jones he can sing. Actually, he’s not lucky, just good. It's easy to say so, considering the songwriting on this album may be his strongest yet. Detailing the struggles of his people in the South and his own internal journey, Jones does a great job of using themes like community to fuel feelings like hope for a well-rounded yet fittingly unfinished narrative. While the narrative is cohesive, the stylistic choices are not. On the first three songs, Jones touches on three very different sounds. This can be done really well, but in this case it feels disjointed. “Gerri Marie” is a solid intro that sets a scene and vibe with Durand Jones and a piano. That’s it, but its simplicity is its strength. However, post the first interlude (track 2), this vibe is deleted by “Lord Have Mercy”. A jaunty sort of Bayou Rock song, it’s the first of a new Durand Jones sound, one that needs a lot of work. It effectively introduces the most unfortunate recurring theme of this album: poor instrumental production and vocal mixing. The instrumental layering is cluttered and a weird buzzy finish lays over everything, including Jones’ vocals. Yet, on the very next track, “Sadie”, Jones temporarily abandons his theme of musical mediocrity. It is a strong song in every way. Great hooks, choruses, and instrumental backing and breaks, it has all the makings of an Indications classic. So why not make that a theme? I think a look at track 5 can answer that question. "I Want You” is another Indications-worthy track musically, as well as a Jones masterclass vocally. He mixes in powerful background vocals at just the right moments and spoken pieces mid-verse, two things seldom seen, if ever, with his band. He is in his creative zone, stretching his attention to every aspect of the sound he wants to encapsulate. But, stretch is the key word. For the length of the song, every couple beats, there is a strange crashing sound. It's some sort of percussion, and it should have been any other kind of percussion, as keeping pace seems to be its sole purpose. But he chose this sound. A decision that doesn’t ruin the song completely, but one that, along with an occasionally jumbled bottom to the mix and an instrumental layering failure down the stretch of the song, can remove a distracted listener from the otherwise powerful tune. Durand Jones is a member of a great band, and great bands don’t let things like that slip through the cracks, but once again, he is just one man. These seemingly careless miscues continue through the album, and honestly, highlighting all of them is trivial. From the drowning of a strong communal vocal performance on “Wait Til I Get Over” to the alarmingly unfit feature on “Someday We’ll All Be Free” or the failure to catch a groove on “Letter To My 17 Year Old Self”, Jones misses opportunities to properly support his beautiful writing and vocal performances. However, he does not miss on “That Feeling”. Durand Jones is a bisexual black man from the South. That means both everything and nothing to this song. To my knowledge, it’s the first time he sings about another man, and he does so against that backdrop he spent so much time constructing. However, as he eases into this particular narrative, everything fades away. It doesn’t matter who he is speaking to, it’s beautiful. A story of wasted potential, told through a nostalgic lens, with that familiar hope and determination, “That Feeling” is love. It’s also the best song on the album. With raw vocals and a classic instrumental intro, Jones eases into the rhythm just as he does the narrative. Layering keys and guitar, he elevates the sound to the highest point of the album in stride with his words, before stripping it down to deliver a message: he and the love inside him aren't going anywhere. With the message delivered and the love story completed, Jones takes the last minutes to elevate one more time, leaving the audience with a powerful combination image and sound. Jones thrives in simplicity on this album, “Secrets” is a good final example. A piano and some voices are all he needed to close his 2023 release. Waves crash against a shore for the last two minutes, washing away the song and this, simply put, unique album. I hope it's unique for several reasons. First, Durand Jones is better than this. But, on top of that, he needed to get something out of his system. For his sake, I like to think he’s satisfied that need, at least enough to clean up any remaining loose ends with The Indications (in more ways than one). This album is messy. The production and mixing are scarily bad at times, as if he needed a reminder that the old days are supposed to be represented by the narrative, not the sound equipment. Jones also struggles to hitch a stylistic ride all the way through. This is fine for an EP, but for an album with a decisive theme, flow is essential. Yet, while it's easy to nitpick my way through this album, it's also easy to get lost in what Jones does well. He is an exceptional songwriter, a skill rivaled only by his vocal abilities. Those two strengths specifically can carry an album, and this is certainly one of those cases. I love Durand Jones, I am excited to see what he does next, and I believe the worst he can do is average. This album, all things considered, is just average. Wait Til I Get Over is a 5.25/10.