Hurry Up Tomorrow : Monday Is Looming By Ian Sherry 3/8/2025 The Weeknd released Hurry Up Tomorrow on January 31st, 2025. Abel Tesfaye searches for end-of-era-defining songs on what is rumored be the final album released under his present moniker. The Weeknd rose to prominence in the early stages of last decade when his trio of mixtapes, Trilogy , caught listeners’ ears with the shock-toxic club-pop he pioneered. Now, after releasing a decent debut, 2 consecutive smash hit records, and the first 2 records of his highly successful and allegedly final trilogy, the Toronto superstar entered this record evidently shorter on inspiration than he’s been in a long time. The reception of The Weeknd’s latest has been the increasingly typical mix of middling to high scores and mild to moderate enthusiasm. With the world’s top sound engineers at his disposal and having the knack for delivering sonically enticing soundscapes that he does, a certain level of critical success is all but guaranteed. The Weeknd will always provide a song like “Baptized In Fear” to scratch the hifi itch. But, if the repeated achievement of sonic standards is akin to success in your view, consider the remainder of this review a dissenting opinion. The Weeknd is out of gas. Fueled in his early days by the nightlife, Abel Tesfaye seemed to know his lifestyle wasn’t sustainable. So began his journey to pop stardom. His now 15-plus-year career has been marked time and time again by well-executed shifts in identity, ultimately bridging the gap between toxic trainwreck and cynical celebrity, but on Hurry Up Tomorrow he was too slow to pull the plug. The sound has reached its expiration date. The Weeknd’s identity, which was always a poignant feature of his artistry, is currently reduced almost singularly to his star status. The result is a hit-driven approach to the majority of tracks. With his mind perpetually set on the high point, the instrumentals have become electronic clouds of ambient ambiance. Take “Reflections Laughing.” The track begins with The Weeknd singing alongside a meek guitar playing no discernable melody, then with the help of a chipmunked sample hook and someone sitting on the bass button, he begins to build to the climax just 1 minute into the 4:51 song. He even drops an interlude into the middle of the song before a painfully lethargic Travis Scott feature accounts for the last 1:37. The song relies so heavily on audience buy-in that it is held together more by the robo-popstar personas of Tesfaye and Scott than any legitimate musical structure. “Wake Me Up” kicks off the album with artificially anthemic energy that is essentially typical for a record chock-full of musically hollow moments of sonic cinema. Because The Weeknd’s voice is so piercingly clear, it lacks texture. This can be positive when belting out pop choruses, clarity plays well to general audiences, but like any other form of delivery, there’s a time and a place. The wider variety of vocal stylings on his early mixtapes occasionally put The Weeknd in uncomfortable vocal pockets that were a more challenging match for his performative skillset. It was not uncommon to hear the strain in his delivery, but it only added to the already edgy sound. That edge is gone. “Timeless” is a jam and the perfect counter to last paragraph’s claim. Playboi Carti settles into the atmospheric Weeknd-style trap beat like he was born there and brings a couple flows along with him. The Weeknd steps up to the plate next and handles the later majority of the track like he can and should, effortlessly delivering multiple delivery styles, rhythms, and rhyme schemes. Unfortunately, while performances of that caliber aren’t singular to track 13 of the 22 total, the average vocal performance is much more pop formulaic - fine but nowhere near the displays of talent and skill he’s achieved. Instead, he gets outperformed by both Future and Lana Del Rey and milks a third of the songs for minutes longer than nature would’ve allowed. 22 songs is a somewhat ridiculous number, but exceptions can be made. That’s a status The Weeknd has certainly earned. Likewise, he’s earned a few electronic pop flops. Acts that categorically raise the bar in certain areas of evaluation can perhaps be allotted modified expectations in select areas that are less favorable given their skillset or style of undertaking. But this year, there were just too many lapses. I’d return to just 4 songs: the hifi success “Baptized In Fear” (7), the prompt, washy “Opening Night” (8), the aforementioned “Timeless” (8), and the a1 trap-pop “Niagara Falls” (10). There was a smattering of excellent transitions, and of course, the soundscapes were on point. Hurry Up Tomorrow is a 5.8 .

Eilish & Cameron in 3D BY: DAWSON SARCONA feat. ITS, 5/6/2026 Billie Eilish – Hit Me Hard and Soft: The Tour (Live in 3D) is the latest concert film/documentary from a cross-generational collaboration between Billie Eilish and directing legend James Cameron. While this movie falls into some of the concert movie genre’s formulaic pitfalls, it stands out as one of the most immersive and visually pleasing cinematized performances I've ever seen. Let’s begin with perhaps the most technically difficult portion of this movie, the cinematography. Coming into a world tour, months in, with the goal of branding new 3D camera technology is a tall task. Even more so when you consider that these cameras must be placed in functional areas that don't restrict the actual onstage performance but capture usable, visually pleasing footage. That being said, Cameron, Eilish, and their teams executed flawlessly. There are endless shots in this movie that felt like pieces of artwork. Further, what really impressed me was the ability to capture scale and immerse the audience. The mix of wide-angle, high-definition cameras with new “Lightstorm Vision” 3D technology made the concert feel physically impactful in theaters, and the clarity of the pictures captured via 3D was astounding to me. I have never once felt more immersed in a concert film, and at times, I forgot about the spectacle of watching “a 3D movie” as it rather tricked my brain into a more holistic concert viewing experience. All of the great visual direction and setups aside, there are some issues I have with this movie. I will say flatly, I am not typically a big fan of concert movies. They’re just not really my type of film and they often struggle to grab my attention. This movie follows the stereotypical format of all films in this genre, cutting between concert performance footage and behind-the-scenes documentary-style clips. My biggest issue is the way the behind-the-scenes footage was cut together. There seemed to be almost no pattern to it, and there were scenes intercut into the middle of the film that would have done much better setting the stage earlier in the movie (rather than an actual time lapse of stage set-up to begin the film). I also would have loved to get into the weeds of how this tour functions from the crew side. The crew has feelings too. As for the music, as a casual fan of Billie Eilish and her overall sound, I had a lot of fun seeing the hits performed in cool ways and learning some of her songs I hadn't heard before. I can say that I came out of this movie more of a fan of Eilish (and Cameron). That being said, my reviews mostly focus on movies, so I'll briefly hand you over to a writer with larger ears, Ian Sherry. ~~~ Billie Eilish’s minimal bandstand matched her minimalist pop sound. A large rectangle with two dugouts near center-stage housed a bassist, guitarist, drummer, and a pair of backup singing sisters. That, plus an omnipresent backtrack and a loop pedal for “when the party’s over,” was all Eilish needed to move her audience to screaming tears. She was vocally tight, physically fit, swagger-laced, and on a scripted mission to provide the audience with the ultimate “Billie Eilish” experience. - ITS ~~~ Overall, I was pleasantly surprised by this movie. I had a lot of fun with it, aside from some confusing editing choices that might have hindered some of the momentum. For a concert movie, I thought it was one of the best I’d come across, and I know this will be a smash hit for all die-hard Billie Eilish fans. I’d give this movie a 6 out of 10 on the scale of regular movies. But, with a film genre like this, that's so vastly different from the story-based films I'm used to reviewing, I feel like a different scale is more suitable for this venture. So that being said, when compared to the other films from the concert movie category, my final review for this movie is a 9 out of 10, and I would highly recommend it to fans of Eilish, Cameron, and the genre at large.

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.

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.

MUSICAL MATCHMAKER VOL. 1 3/26/24 BY: IAN SHERRY On March 24, 2023, Danny Brown and JPEGMAFIA released SCARING THE HOES , and out of my newfound obsession with Danny Brown’s collaborative potential, a series is born. Allow me to speak on everyone’s behalf for a moment. We all have artists we’d like to see work together, or collaborations we believe would’ve changed the musical landscape as we know it today. Who wouldn’t want to see Kendrick Lamar put out an album with his little cousin Baby Keem , and who wouldn’t have wanted a full LP from David Bowie and Queen . This series is an opportunity for us to explore what we believe could be or should’ve been, and we’re starting with Danny Brown. Collaborative albums are one of the music industry’s greatest treats. Diversified groups of listeners get new material from their favorite artists while becoming more familiar with someone new. In the very best instances, both artists gain fans, fans gain good music from both artists, and a whole world of future collaborations, connections, and stylistic innovation reveals itself. From bands adding a key sound-altering member for a project, like Michael McDonald with Steely Dan , to established artists combining their unique sounds, like Danny Brown and JPEGMAFIA, the best artists find ways to make each other better. SCARING THE HOES was a project long-rumored on the internet and their combined fanbases. A crossover between two of the most prolific alternative hip-hop artists of this active generation is bound to receive attention, after all. Brown and Peggy didn’t disappoint. They each brought their signature senses of humor, unique rhyming styles, and studio skills. The result is one of the best produced, thematically strong, witty, and entertaining albums of last year. For me, it spawned a new interest: Danny Brown’s ability to collaborate. In all of my Danny Brown solo listening (and I’ve heard it all, to my knowledge), I never imagined that he could fully exist as himself outside of his own projects. While he delivers solid features on a yearly basis, he’s always felt strongest on beats catered to himself by himself, when he has complete creative control. However, on SCARING THE HOES, it's Brown who does most of the bending. While both MCs prefer to exist in sonic chaos, JPEGMAFIA relies on it. His rhythmically abnormal cadence doesn’t lend itself as kindly to more traditional hip-hop beats. Brown can go either way. As an artist who often buries or alters traditional beats underneath his more cluttered soundscapes, he can rap in any pocket without relying on, or being limited by, his production. So, what do I do when an artist has such obvious collaborative prowess, like Danny Brown? I dream up new collabs. Welcome to Musical Matchmaker Vol. 1. Recently, on a tip from a friend, I was listening to Bruiser Wolf , another artist involved in Danny Brown’s Detroit alt-hip-hop scene. He, unlike his pal Danny, sticks to pretty conventional production. It was in their scattered collaborations and work together in Bruiser Brigade , that finally pointed to what I really want from a Danny Brown collab: cleaner production. 1. Danny MF BROWN Well yeah, who wouldn’t go well with MF DOOM ? A fair point, and the answer is nobody (or maybe Elvis), but this is an intentional selection. Danny Brown, despite not solely producing his beats since early mixtapes, has developed an individually recognizable sound. His vocal expertise allows him to exist in a permanent state of semi-chaos, with projects like XXX and Atrocity Exhibition leading the charge, however even when his sound is less cluttered, orderliness isn’t his strong suit. MF DOOM is, genres aside, one of the greatest producers of all time. Few artists inject as much personality into their instrumentals as DOOM. In fact, it's his zany intro/outros and perfectly off-center sample-work that are responsible for his unprecedented notoriety as an artist in an alternative space. What draws me to DOOM in this particular instance, however, is one of the key ingredients Danny Brown has yet to fully incorporate into his own work: cleanliness. MF DOOM’s production, despite its abstract and cluttered nature on the surface, is just as clean and organized as today’s most prominent pop-rap producers. Let me take you under the hood. Given, DOOM’s catalog is expansive enough to nitpick until your nitpicking appetite is satisfied completely, he generally thrives in clean contrasts. Take “Doomsday” ; by sampling Sade’s “Kiss of Life” , he introduces the very essence of smooth, under which he layers a semi-complex drum hook that dictates a much quicker tempo than the original sample. In addition to the sharpness of the drums he interjects occasional record scratches, cuts, and a scattering of extremely brief samples. All of these choices come together to achieve a perfectly balanced texture, as well as a fairly neutral base to rap overtop. As far as I’m concerned, that level of production expertise is exactly what Danny Brown needs, because while he’s collaborated with plenty of top-tier producers, that solid base that DOOM creates is unrivaled. Not to mention, the lyrical collaboration between the two would be an absolute dream for any fan of unique deliveries and lyrics that toe the line between genius and nonsense. 2. Ol’ Dirty Brown Ol’ Dirty Bastard is one of the greatest performative rappers of all time. So is Danny Brown. See where I’m going with this? There are endless aspects to good performative rapping, and endless combinations in which either of these artists would thrive, but I believe their particular strengths overlap on the highest level. Firstly, ODB’s background with Wu Tang and the NYC posse rap scene is priceless when it comes to collaboration. Manufacturing verses that stand apart from anyone else on the song is a skill, and one that elevated ODB in his prime. When other members of the Wu Tang Clan’s styles had more of a tendency to blend together, especially his cousins RZA and GZA , Ol’ Dirty Bastard cultivated one of the most recognizable deliveries ever. His ability to exist as himself in a collective space is rivaled by very few, and Danny Brown is on that short list of competition. Listen to Brown’s verse on A$AP Rocky’s “1 Train” or Bruiser Wolf’s “2 Bad” (they’re the same sample), and notice how clearly he stands apart. Then compare that to ODB’s “Intoxicated” ”; you might notice a similar phenomenon. When these two MCs are turned loose on more simplistic beats and have room to deliver an uninhibited performance, they’re untouchable. The ability to work as individuals while finding a shared stylistic sweet spot has elevated legendary hip-hop duos like Outkast and Black Star . Ol’ Dirty Brown shares a lot of strengths with those legendary groups, from similar content and life experiences (street life and addiction) to similar performative styles. Their breath control and borderline cartoonish deliveries would work well together in my mind, which leaves just one question mark. What are they rapping on? As much as I’d love to hear ODB work into contemporary Danny Brown production, that doesn’t feel like a realistic adjustment for the 90s MC. Instead I’d look back to Brown’s earlier work. On Hot Soup especially, you can find more drum-forward production, reminiscent of the boom-bap sound, which ODB would’ve been much more accustomed to. From there, a knowledgeable producer would be wise to reconstruct Brown’s typical sample-work, which normally rides overtop or in stride with the verse. Dropping it in the mix so that the vocals take precedent would allow for the duo’s performative skills to dominate the audience. It would also loosen up the vocal pocket and allow the less frequent samples to take up a larger role in the structure of the song, marking transitions between consecutive verses or choruses. The result, theoretically, would be two of the strongest rappers in their given generations spitting on production that combines signature aspects of their own styles and eras. All of that combined with their ability to exaggerate syllables, which dictates pace regardless of the actual word quantity, Ol’ Dirty Brown would be the perfect lyrical storm, and one of the finest live shows in hip-hop history. Danny Brown has one of the most unique skill-sets in music today. His album with JPEGMAFIA was one of the highest quality releases of last year, but it was not his collaborative ceiling. He is the most versatile rapper in music right now, making him the ideal collaborator. His willingness to experiment is evidenced in his own work as well as his scattered features, from Euro-electronic producers like Paul White to genre-bending artists like Quadeca . Danny Brown will continue to innovate as long as he makes music, and while there may be no living artist with whom he can strike the perfect collaborative balance, if there is, he’ll find them.

MAYHEM By Ian Sherry 3/31/2025 Lady Gaga released MAYHEM , her first studio album in five years, on March 7, 2025. With a collection of songs that meet the moment, Gaga has reasserted herself atop the charts. Lady Gaga is selling this project as inspired by a variety of 80s and 90s influences, but I’d describe it as a return to form. Her last studio album skewed too far into mall-music for my liking and, with the intrusion of movie soundtracks in her recent discography, it’s been since 2016 that we got a musically ambitious album from Lady Gaga and since 2013 that we’ve seen one of this quality. No song better fulfills this record’s sales pitch than “Zombieboy.” The chant-clap intro briefly sets the stage for the high-energy disco-electronic instrumental that drives the track. She rides the 80s revival wave and energetically fills out the musically encased vocal pockets for a sonically airtight product. The record feels contemporary, original, and unique to her well-established catalog. The MAYHEM sound’s X factor is the acid bass. The strobing electronic bass that flutters on songs throughout the record is reminiscent of Kendrick Lamar and his GNX production team’s “squabble up” . An album this fresh, however, is the result of more than just one new trick. All these years later, Lady Gaga is circularly collecting on her own influence in electronic music, and the results are inspiring. “Abracadabra” was a smash hit before the end of the first verse. It has the unmistakable, vintage feel of a Lady Gaga anthem. The bouncy electronic introduction is excellent. From there, she effortlessly builds energy before dropping an immediately iconic Gaga-talk chorus pumped full of that acid wobble on the low end. She commands the refrain with electrifying swagger, chanting in sync with the punchy dance beat for my personal high point of the album. Listening to Lady Gaga’s fervorous commitment to song concepts is as much fun 17 years in as it’s ever been. If it weren’t for her comfortability in her own sound and a willingness to work with fresher cross-industry influences, this album couldn’t compete in a trend-based genre like pop. “Killah” , for instance, is a ridiculous undertaking of influences that lands closer to corny than cool across the first couple verses, still it’s saved by a crisp chorus and a stellar instrumental feature from Gesaffelstein . Gesaffelstein was also MAYHEM ’s primary producer, which made him responsible for stylistically ushering Lady Gaga into the swing of this decade’s musical landscape. He generally delivered, bridging the gap between her vintage sound and today’s charts with notable chemistry and quality. The best songs featured filled-out instrumentals and ear-catching moments, while the small population of weaker songs suffered from thin backing undeserving of Gaga’s unrelenting vocal effort – the P!nk effect. Gaga sings like a dynamo, preventing any song from flopping - something that major pop releases are so prone to accepting. Her performances are potent, enough to elevate a song like “Blade Of Grass” to a touching ballad, and enough to somewhat salvage instrumentally empty duds like “Don’t Call Tonight” or “The Beast” . She shows veteran songwriting chops, only running long a few times on pop drags while manufacturing danceable songs, one after another, with timely shifts that allow her to choose from her full arsenal of sounds on any given song. Her lyrics are still the unmistakable mix of cheesy and genuine – the parody that results in goofs like “Perfect Celebrity” and number-1-worthy tracks like “Vanish Into You” – and I can’t imagine them any other way. At her best, Lady Gaga has a generationally distinct sound that can churn out 10/10 songs each time the pieces align (3 this year). The attention to detail throughout this record, which is quite contradictory to the title, pays dividends and is especially evident in the synchronicity between Gaga, the punches of the instrumental, and the infrequent but impactful backing vocals. This is music the product of a living icon, and this album may prove to be an essential member of that icon’s discography – a later-model success that further cements Lady Gaga’s legacy as an artist and musical innovator. MAYHEM is a 8.3 .

RAYE: The real deal BY: IAN THOMAS SHERRY, 5/4/2026 Raye dropped her smashing LP THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE. on March 27, and if you’re just now hearing of her, you’re late. It was Saturday Night Live (which is generally upholding the tradition of quality musical curation on variety shows, Arsenio, Chappelle, all the way back to Ed Sullivan) where I first discovered Raye. That was before her three Grammy nominations, and I was late then. Now, we’ve entered a new era of international pop. My 21st Century Blues (’23) was an ambitious foundational record, the product of Raye’s departure from Polydor Records. I listened to the debut in the wake of my stumbling upon Raye and knew she could do better. The sturdy collection of long-fermented music featured a variety of pop and r&b flavors plus flashes of her tone as a writer, yet despite its critical acclaim (especially across the pond) I found it musically thin and thematically broad. Not to worry, neither of those tropes are present on this 2026 LP. “Intro: Girl Under The Grey Cloud” is an excellent entrance into the most theatrical record I have ever listened to. The music of musical theater, especially when removed from the performance, makes my stomach turn. That is historically, but Raye’s sonic gravitas, worldbuilding, monologuing and all around-performative efforts can be described as nothing short of theatrical, so here I am at the breaking point of another personal precedent. The songstress stumbles from one stormy scene into another as (Track 2) “I Will Overcome” rumbles around. The true intro more-or-less continues the narrative: a drunk gal out on the town, far past anyone’s bed-time, searching for the answers to, well… everything. The focus narrows over the next four tracks. Time to more deeply address the sound I suppose. It’s a bright pacey pop, boosted by a 21st century studio and big band thunder, background vocals and a prancing matriarch at the center of it all. Raye preaches warnings on the (Track 3) “Beware.. The South London Lover Boy.” She tells a precautionary tail over a twirling keyboard/808 hook on (Track 4) “The WhatsApp Shakespeare.” Then there’s the theatrical masterpiece (Track 6) “Click Clack Symphony.” Raye revisits her well of 20-something depression and treats her vulnerability with girlpower. She assembles the gals, “send the call out, send the call out!,” and sets out on the town hoping to lose the inside thoughts outside, using the click-clacking heels as her beat. (Track 7) “I Know You’re Hurting.” must be the day after. This tune is the page-1 example of the triumphant music achievable at the peak of pop. When combined with the wholistically performative sensibilities of someone genuine, spirited and talented like Raye, a pop studio can create tear-jerking moments in the middle of Walmart. HUT. And now a brief advertisement for America’s second son, Jazz music baby. Well, ‘we’ brewed up this mystical instrumental gumbo with European instruments, so I guess it’s only fair that they get a take on it. Still, I often hesitate to consider the big blaring British bands I hear on 007 soundtracks to be jazz. I mean somewhere below “Gold Finger”s hollering horns Jimmy Page was just lurking, playing sheet music, a proper jazz band would’ve drawn that behemoth out, no? But still, the branches of British jazz bear undeniable fruit, Amy Winehouse at the very minimum. “This song is called ‘I Hate The Way I Look Today’,” says Raye. A statement of fact is followed by a beautifully bumbling brigade of similar thoughts as she raps and rambles, in true jazz style, a laundry list of complaints about her physical person. Comedic, relatable, listenable, Raye refuses not to check all the boxes, and this jazzy break at track 9 was a brilliant move to further flesh out her musical chops and back up a big claim from track 2: “And it’s funny, some people say I remind them of Amy.” Call me some people. (Track 10) “Goodbye Henry” begins with another cheekily dejected monologue, the kind Ms. Carpenter dreams to achieve, and I’m feeling frisky so I’ll share: “This is a sad song/ Though it feels happy / It is not happy at all, in fact / It makes me so, so sad to sing this song /But I will sing it for you anyway / This song is called "Goodbye Henry" / And I wrote it 'bout a boy / A very lovely boy/ And his name isn't even Henry/ But I'm just tryna be respectful / We don't talk anymore / He could be next-door and I wouldn't even know /In another life we could have made it /But in this one, well, we let go…” From there the bounding soul track wonderfully lives up to its billing. Raye rides horns, keys and drums like a tricycle and welcomes Al Green at the bridge, a treat for the ears as much as the heartstrings. (Track 11) “Nightingale Lane.” is yet another highlight, this time an Adele-style ballad. Over a pretty generically supportive score, Raye opens up those impressive vocal cords of hers, which she often opts to nimbly control, and wails a well-written chorus. She is comfortable at any pace, dancing through tracks all record long and adjusting with effortless swagger to the speed limit on “Nightingale Lane.” Did we mention that THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE? (Track 12) “Skin & Bones.” shocks the LP back to this decade’s pop pace for a number-1-worthy track. The equally catchy (Track 13) “Where Is My Husband!” stands as Raye’s top-charting song in the US, peaking at 11 on the Billboard. It’s curios that Raye’s exposure in the American media has yet to convert to top-10 radio play; the disconnection between fame and fortune has indeed sewn itself into modern media arenas. Her dime will come, never fear, so long as Raye continues to make songs like (Track 15) “Joy.” This late-album hit has the juice of certain 2010 smash hits as a big brass section jumps on top of a sleek afrobeat (which sticks around in the form of a rhythmic 808). The band’s sound and volume takes me back to Fifth Harmony’s prime, Jessie J, rooftop pop. (Track 16) “Happier Times Ahead.” Carries the same sentiment, sound and quality into the album’s conclusion, “Fin,” which functions as an audible credit-roll. Raye’s lyrics are good, the world she built excellent, her voice unique, vocal style unparallelled. She deserves to be praised in the same international pop circles as her British pop foremothers, Latin juggernauts and American stars. She deserves mentioning in the same conversations as young visionaries like Cameron Winter. And if she keeps up this pace, Raye will earn mentions in conversations about the all-time greats. THIS MUSIC MAY CONTAIN HOPE is a 9.1.

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.

LOTUS GLOW , BY ADI OASIS BY: Ian Sherry 3/2 5/23 On March 3, 2023, Adi Oasis released her newest album: Lotus Glow. For those who don’t know, Adi Oasis, fka. Adeline, is a fantastic vocalist and bass player that sprung from the New York music scene. Performing as Adeline, she was the lead singer for Escort, a disco revival band led by JKriv, a fellow bass player and heavyweight DJ from New York. While they made great music, going solo was the clear next step. She’s assembled a great band, changed her name to Adi Oasis, and focused on touring and studio recording. Adeline has always been a stand-out bass player and vocalist fluent in many music stylings and arrangements, but Adi Oasis has found her own sound and identity. She is uber talented and possesses an impressive level of polish for someone who is new to solo recording, yet I had questions regarding her album making ability. Her first release, titled Adeline, was safe. She stuck to her enjoyable low-risk, low-reward R&B approach but it lacked her unique personality. Since then she has released two albums, blossoming stylistically and creatively, and getting closer to reaching her now obvious potential. Lotus Glow is not another hint at that potential, it’s a statement of fact: Adi Oasis is the real deal. My biggest question for Adi Oasis heading into Lotus Glow was her logistical album making ability. Her previous two albums were 30 and 25 minutes respectively. They had great moments, but for the most part they felt like collections of songs, not coordinated musical experiences. Lotus Glow’s album sequencing is much improved. It leads off with “Le Depart”, a short introduction that sets the scene with laid back instrumentals and a short chorus and cuts short just in time to bring the audience in. The anticipation is built and immediately released in the opening track “Get It Got It”. It brings energy, horns, a fun chorus, and the sound that she will fall back on for the remainder of the album. “Get It Got It” was one of the first singles and likely would have slotted in anywhere, but the opening slot was the perfect place for it. The only interlude, “Sugarcane”, is towards the end. The decision to place it so late is one I don’t fully understand, but it does serve to separate what I believe are the two weakest tracks. What impressed me most about her album organization was the final track, “FourSixty”. It begins with the exact same instrumental and chorus of “Le Depart” before satisfyingly dropping into her first verse. It is one of her strongest vocal performances on the album, and it holds a good feature from Aaron Taylor. While he feels a little bit raw at times, he brings a good contrast to her voice and sings in a variety of octaves. The song as a whole is a perfect sendoff to a near perfect album. Why near perfect? The biggest thing holding Lotus Glow back is “Naked” featuring Levin Kali. This song is already one of the most streamed on the album. This is no doubt in part because of the feature and his fanbase, but to be frank, Levin Kali is completely upstaged on this song. He begins with a rap verse which, while it was passable, lacked character in the performance. Everything Adi Oasis does, she does with swagger. Levin couldn’t hang. To make matters worse, down the stretch, the two harmonize for two separate vocal stretches. Their voices don’t blend well and they take away from what could have been a strong finish from Adi Oasis and Adi Oasis alone. Now, all the fault does not lie with Levin. He wasn’t the man for the job, but she is in charge. As she grows as an artist and gains access to better features she will learn how to incorporate them more effectively without cramping her own style. I think “Naked” proves this should be a point of interest for her next release. Adi Oasis is talented enough to pack a punch in every song. You can see her early work reflected in songs like “Marigold” and “The Water”, and her current sound is showcased in songs like “Serena”,”Red To Violet”, “Sidonie”, “Adonis”, and “You Make Me Want It”. However, “Multiply” is the best possible embodiment of Oasis’ style at this point in her career. It leads in with a murky base that contrasts perfectly with high pitched vocals and keys. The piano fills out the sound and allows the listener to settle into a fantastic vocal performance. Lots of times, when artists have heavy layers of live-recorded instruments, their voices can sit in the wrong part of the mix. It’s not a huge problem; maybe they just sing over the top or get buried at times by the weight of the tune. It can work, but Adi Oasis has the perfect balance. She creates an environment with her diverse multi-layered sound and sings in a perfect pocket that places simultaneous emphasis on her lyrics, bass, and wandering keyboards. Her personality is infused in this song and all of her best songs. The result is a fantastic listening experience. In the same sense that “Naked” holds the album back from perfection, “Dumpalltheguns” is what pushes it there in the first place. Though the year is still young, this song is an early candidate for my personal song of the year. On an album where Adi Oasis successfully plays to her diverse strong suits, she steps outside of her comfort zone on this song. The production is heavy handed and incorporates an electric feel I’ve never heard from her before. Once again the bass is very present, but so is a punchy electric guitar, a piano progression and layered keys, a cowbell, synth breaks, and echoed vocals in just the right spots. However, what stands out most is the message. “Dumb for your guns, wanna kill just for fun”. The first line of the song makes the message clear and Adi Oasis makes sure you can’t forget it, and with the absolute power of this song, you won’t want to. “Dumpalltheguns” is a perfect integration of her arsenal of capabilities. It displays a growing command over her own bass playing, songwriting, and vocal abilities, as well as a mastery of the studio and all hers has to offer. It is a successful callback to her work with Escort as well, bringing in elements of songs like “Cocaine Blues”. But, it's also a glimpse of the future: a future of much-needed social change in the USA and the future trajectory of Adi Oasis. 2023 music releases are off to a hot start, and Lotus Glow is my favorite so far. Adi Oasis scratches an itch that nobody else does. Her unique blend of influences combines for a cohesive, reliable, and recognizable sound. The best part is she has room for improvement. I could see her talent, but I had secret concerns about how far her seemingly niche style could take her. Those concerns are gone. She delivered moments on this record I’ve never experienced before, and I know she can do more. There are opportunities for improvement, but I have a feeling she already knows that. She seems to have a keen self-awareness, fixing problems like overly shrill vocals and the occasional inconsequential and uninteresting verses from previous releases. I have no doubt she’ll improve at incorporating features, and higher level collaborations feel inevitable. The future is bright for Adi Oasis, and at this point, her widespread success feels guaranteed. Lotus Glow is a 9.5/10.

Fool's Gold: Apollo's Debut Is Not By Ian Sherry 8/8/2025 On August 8, 2025, Lew Apollo released Fool’s Gold. This debut album is a celebration of individual creation within the blurred lines of this contemporary musical landscape. Lew Apollo was introduced and pitched to me as a “soul” artist. We take soul seriously here in Detroit, making such a label not only striking, but a direct challenge. An endless list of criteria scrolls Star Wars-style through my subconscious as my ears do the judging. In this case, “soul” is a precious label I cannot afford. Apollo’s self-produced pop sound is balanced, fresh, and on-par with industry standards, but it doesn't so much emulate the musical bones of soul music. In an effort to perfectly portray “Lew Apollo the artist,” a noun was used as an adjective: Lew Apollo is not a soul singer, but he is a singer with soul. In 2023, Apollo released JUNGLE . His debut EP had an interesting variety of pop-adjacent tracks, but I find its name to be its most relevant feature. Jungle, to most music fans, is a British band, whose poppy yacht-funk can drift towards modern (Indications-like) soul on any given track. Whether or not he did it intentionally, Apollo benefits from this namely intertwinement. His and Jungle’s likeminded approaches to bridging pop and aspects of disco or soul co-validate one another through quality and creative direction, and that’s evident from track 1. “No Room In Hell” is a prototypical result of this sound, and I’m here for it. The track’s bounce is enough to grab my ear, and the otherwise spacey instrumental is filled-in but secondary to Apollo’s well-engineered vocal editions. The following title track, “Fools Gold,” flexes the ability to easily rework the sound established in track 1. The gradual pace and slappy bass allow Apollo to meander his way into a dreamy vocal performance, floating on the verses no problem, into a catchy chorus with understated background vocal support, before making room as he often does on this record, with a humble but quality instrumental bridge. By this point, it was becoming clear to me that I was dealing with a legit composer. Lew Apollo has a thriving independence about him, from the persona outlined in his promo material, to the aesthetic he’s cultivated on socials and cover art. But, the kicker is that he produced this record himself. Many a genre-fence-sitter have thrived in the technological era of production. Think early Kanye West, Anderson .Paak producing Malibu on his Macbook, or Lew Apollo piecing together a chorus-bolstered, soul-appreciative third track of legitimate sonic scale… “Let The Light In” opens with a murky hook preview and some of Lew’s most striking lyrics thus far. After teasing the chorus, the track begins to pick up steam, bringing in more instrumental and background vocal support on the chorus’ second repetition, and continuing to find new gears through the track’s closing moments. Our tour’s next stop is track 7, “Addicted.” Talk about inspiration. Lew definitely went for a soul tune with modern juice on this reimagination of Bill Withers’ “Just The Two of Us.” Leaning respectfully-but-noticeably on that legendary 6-bar progression, Apollo drops in a heavy r&b track complete with an original spin on the hook’s bones, meaty bass dips, and a delicate bare-bones sonic atmosphere that he places himself at the center of. A win in my book. Now for the closer. Fool’s Gold’s ninth and final track was perfectly placed. Lew Apollo lays it all out there on “Feeling OK,” which stands head and shoulders above an already raw record in terms of vulnerability. Accompanied by only his guitar, Apollo limps his way through a relatable account of the challenges of day-to-day living. While the song doesn’t do a ton musically, his guitar is just enough to properly support him as he captures a feeling experienced by many through different but comparable experiences. He has one line specifically that he wanted us all to hear as his debut record came to a close: “if you can’t pick me up, then put me down.” I’m here to pick him up. Lew Apollo is an ambitious artist. A capable musical visionary. An independent well-rounded artist. And a soulful singer. Fool’s Gold is a 8.2.

Inspecting Sabrina Carpenter By Ian Sherry 9/10/2025 On August 29th, 2025, Sabrina Carpenter released Man’s Best Friend. With her first record since reaching the pinnacle of pop stardom, Carpenter solidified an already-hardening opinion in the mind of this music fan. Sabrina Carpenter is the closest thing American pop music has to a real-life Powerpuff Girl. When most kids are still learning to tie their shoes at the age of 15 (or was that just me?) Carpenter was priming herself for a rise to fame. Her natural mix of sugar, spice, and espresso soon came into contact with the infamous Chemical X (Disney channel), and out burst the perfect pop star, a flawless celebrity figure. As far as I can tell, and Man’s Best Friend only made me more certain, there’s very little that makes Carpenter’s music special, aside from Carpenter herself. What I mean is this: her tendency towards generic pop-of-the-moment places her performative persona at the center of attention – and what a persona it is. Carpenter is reportedly a hard worker, and she’s been on a disciplined grind for some time now. Long before Sabrina gained serious notoriety as a singer, clips of her concerts had been surfacing on social media. All of them (speaking for my own algorithm here) showcased her personality via shenanigans, while featuring very few, if any musical moments. That is the Sabrina Carpenter experience. The product is the person performing the piece, not the piece itself. Let’s see what Sabrina is selling us this time around. First, the producer combination of John Ryan and (who else but) Jack Antonoff ensures a certain style of music. The pop-fitting formula featured by this chart-pounding-paring reliably features drum machine beats that punch up into the midrange, a slew of looped strings which harmonize below the vocals, and a variety of synths that build later in songs to amp up the energy, ornamentation, and sonic abundance (of which there’s never much). Rarely will these albums feature notable session musicians aside from the headlining artist or band members. That’s why it’s a noticeable gimmick when Carpenter welcomes a fleeting fiddle solo on track 1, “Manchild.” The nod to middle America is a fitting on a tune that begins the album-long painting of a particular brand of mama’s boy. Listen to the record all the way through and you’ll know what I mean. Here are some terms to keep in mind: physical and mental unavailability, weaponized incompetence, emotional immaturity, and resignation. Now let me give you a few of Sabrina Carpenter’s own: “You said your phone was broken, just forgot to charge it - Whole outfit you're wearing, God, I hope it's ironic - Did you just say you're finished? Didn't know we started - It's all just so familiar, baby, what do you call it? Stupid - Or is it slow? Maybe it's useless? But there's a cuter word for it, I know - Man-child .” And now the bridge, “Oh, I like my boys playing hard to get - And I like my men all incompetent - And I swear they choose me, I'm not choosing them .” Suffice to say, it was the lead single for a reason, and it’s not such a bad song either. Allow me to usher you along to track 5, “We Almost Broke Up Again Last Night.” A pop ballad straight from Swift and Antonoff’s shared California Closet, Carpenter gives us the next best glimpse at her mind in love. The legendary pop pairing's success over recent years has made Antonoff the top-of-mind landing spot for any pop star in search of a producer. Carpenter fits the Swift-formed mold perfectly, but where the two Pennsylvanian Antonoff collaborators differ is their perceivable attitudes ‘in love’. While Taylor Swift believers are often criticized for living in a feminist fantasy land of their mother’s making, Carpenter airs on the side of comedically exasperated realism. Swift has always brought an uplifting, rebellious, independent attitude to her music, even when the subject matter isn’t pleasant. Carpenter does some of those things, but contrasts with the industry titan in what I call her resignation to the bullshit. “Gave me his whole heart, then I gave him (noggin),” is a telling lyric to me. I doubt I’m the first and unfortunately, I won’t be the last to break this news: the average American male (but not just males) doesn’t digest and regurgitate their emotions in a fashion that is conducive to the relationship’s need for empathetic discourse, and the resulting dumping of pent-up emotion can clutter the Love Train’s tracks. Resignation to that, expecting nothing more from an entire gender of the world’s apex species, is a bit disappointing in my mind. But where are the parents?! That’s what Sabrina Carpenter demands to know on the following track. “Nobody’s Son” is a well-articulated, heartbroken rant that details being dumped by a guy who “discovered self-control this week.” The bridge digs even further into our previous subject matter as she turns the blame (which never seems to quite land on the son in question) onto his mother. “That boy is corrupt – Could you raise him to love me, maybe? He sure fucked me up – And, yes, I’m talkin’ bout your baby.” Maybe it's my sensitivity to the idea of my mom getting blamed for my nonsense, but I couldn’t stop finding issues with this song! I find the poppy orchestral chorus cheap (don’t make me think about Frozen) and the way she jams “emoshnally” into 4 syllables to fit the bar makes my skin crawl (I used a synonym for emotionally a few paragraphs ago - it can be done). The next track found redemption in my eyes, both in sentiment and sound. “Never Getting Laid” is refreshing; its greater bass presence and restraint with the myriad of strings, which are often uncharacteristically blaring on this record by Antonoff standards, allow for her vocals to float instead of cut through. The dreamy vibe is intentional as it pairs perfectly with the passive aggression Carpenter spitfires with lyrics like “Baby, I'm not angry - Love you just the same - I just hope you get agoraphobia someday - And all your days are sunny -From your windowpane - Wish you a lifetime full of happiness - And a forever of never getting laid .” It even has a sweet lil outro. At least anger is one of the stages of grief (blaming the mother isn’t even bargaining). “Never Getting Laid” for the win. “When Did You Get Hot?” is next in line. Carpenter goes for an Ariana Grande thing here, but I don’t need this song from anybody. “Go Go Juice” – not my cup of tea. “Don’t Worry I’ll Make You Worry” – a snooze. Luckily, the home stretch kicks off with “House Tour.” This throbbing pop-funk bop has the magic captured at times by late model Justin Timberlake but most prominently by Bruno Mars. Laced with clever wordplay, Carpenter flaunts her world’s best euphemism game as she prances atop the album’s top energy track. “Goodbye” is the perfect name for a last track! And that’s not the only reason Man’s Best Friend ends on a positive note. This spin on a breakup song features an empowered Carpenter pushing off. She soars atop a triumphant instrumental, nailing the ABBA sound before dipping shamelessly into Sgt. Pepper’s bag of tricks to find her last bridge. It builds, and Carpenter opens up her lungs surrounded by a chorus of herself to put a confident stamp on this final track. How does she sing that well with her tongue in her cheek? Sabrina Carpenter’s 2025 release is the typically mixed bag major pop labels have standardized over the last 20 years (bring back Brittney). I found her songwriting effective, the album’s narrative easy to follow, and the instrumentals largely underwhelming. I believe that Carpenter makes music to be performed live – it shows in her lyrical designs, the number of verses meant for speak-singing. She is a pop star. She is the product. She knows what she’s doing. But does she know what she’s doing? When Sabrina Carpenter showcases sonically bland music before the masses, does she consider that it will be her persona and way of being that is idolized? If Carpenter wanted to sound like ABBA, to pass along one of her beloved influences, she could. She passes along a character. Perfectly acceptable, she’s not the only one, and she’s not near the worst. But what does this character preach? I’ve danced around the edge of enough sensitive subjects; I’m glad to have saved this simple point to close my argument. If it hasn’t already occurred to you, glance at the album cover and think about what that name means. Sabrina Carpenter won’t be stained by a suggestive album cover, and its nothing in the piles of pseudo-smut the music industry has to offer. Years from now it’ll likely be the felicitous cover of the Bonus Track Edition people click most often. But legacy doesn’t fade. Sabrina Carpenter has control of hers, an opportunity so many women have gone without. With her chance, Betty Davis chose to be a “Nasty Gal,” Chaka Khan chose to be Every Woman, Brittney Spears chose to be “Toxic.” I hope Ms. Carpenter’s final choice is not to be- Man’s Best Friend is a 6.3.