A Perfectly Timely Review of Head of the Love Club BY: Ian Sherry 5/22/23 I discovered Hänlyn shortly after the release of this EP and after spending the last few months listening to her I decided she was the final piece to an article I’ve been wanting to write for some time. As I attempted to properly unpack Gretel Hänlyn’s talent in her section of “Putting You On Three” , I realized this EP needed its own review. So, months after the release, it’s here. On March 13, 2023 Gretel Hänlyn released her sophomore EP Head of the Love Club. Gretel Hänlyn’s debut Slugeye showcased a clearly defined and developed sound coming from a talented artist. Its production, song structure, and stylistic flexibility, (all things young artists often struggle with) were all standout quality. She thrived when creating complicated soundscapes and then singing right down the middle of them, allowing the music itself to shine while her voice pulls everything together. It was a musically diverse and well-rounded EP, but after this most recent release it feels safe. Gretel Hänlyn’s 2023 Head of the Love Club is exciting to say the least. Let me tell you why. “Dry Me” is a perfect start. Immediately Hänlyn brings an intensity, both vocally and instrumentally, she’s never shown before. She ranges up and down vocally within lines, hitting highs and lows in just one sentence. The vocal performance itself pulls the listener in close through the 1:30 mark, at which point she begins to build tension. Rising synths and a repeated acoustic guitar progression lead to the payoff at the 2:45 mark: her voice reaches peak intensity, and heavy piano slams in the low end along with the drums as a much lighter piano riff is sprinkled over the top. The intense soundscape provides the perfect release of tension, and though it lasts just over 15 seconds, it is a fantastic preview of things to come. Moving chronologically, “Drive” puts this EP in motion. Employing a lot of the keys to the success of Wet Legs debut project, Hänlyn nails the more raw end of this modern indie pop sound. The electric baseline rolls over and over, setting the pace alongside punchy drums. Her buzzy spoken vocals sit on top, letting simplicity command the audience’s attention, until the chorus serves as a well-timed interjection. She brings in poppy feminine vocals and electric guitar to do so. Sending the audience seamlessly in and out of witty verses is essential, especially with these kinds of spoken vocals, which can wear down an audience over long terms of exposure. “Drive” is a challenge, but a simple and effective one: Hänlyn is bringing the energy and you have to absorb it. “King of Nothing” immediately addresses the other end of the modern indie pop spectrum, and its placement directly behind “Drive” feels like no mistake. To use a literary term, it is essentially a foil of its predecessor. The baseline rolls just like before, but the distortion from the previous verses’ baseline is placed on the chorus’ guitar in “King of Nothing”. The distortion is also removed from the vocals, and the higher, more delicate layered vocals take hold of the verses instead of the choruses like before. Using a similar song structure to boot, Hänlyn is able to create a completely different sound with just a few small switches. Whether or not this particular contrast is intentional, Hänlyn’s technical and artistic abilities are on full display with “King of Nothing”. “Wiggy” provides more of a stylistic continuation than the previous transitions. Hänlyn amps up the vocal layering. The song moves along nicely, once again being subtly guided by the baseline. She uses the higher pitched guitar to insert air into the track by separating the upper and lower ends of the mix. Together, these factors create a very catchy sound. For most of the song she layers the instrumental up and down more seamlessly than any of her other work, even to a fault as the final chorus is frankly built up too much. While it doesn’t have the most sonically pleasing conclusion, track 4 is another detail-oriented success that transports the audience to a happy wiggy world. Yet another stylistic swerve, “Little Vampire” revisits the Slugeye vibe. Using acoustic guitar and drowsy vocals (a combo that reminds me a lot of Nirvana), Hänlyn begins to build tension like she does so well on this EP. As the song progresses, a buzzing sound creeps up and she begins to mix in eerily delicate vocals. She even sprinkles in some keys in place of vocals. As the buzzing persists and the wall of tension continues to build, her delicate vocals start to feel crushed under the weight of what’s coming. Then, the song ends. Gretel Hänlyn knows exactly what she’s doing. She knows how well she builds tension. She knows the power of her vocals to set the mood. She knows that her command over the mix only adds to that mood. And she uses this knowledge to trick us: leaving her audience with a conclusion that should be unsatisfying, yet somehow is completely the opposite. “Little Vampire” might not be the most exciting song on Head of the Love Club , but it's a masterpiece. Hänlyn knows that too. “The Head of the Love Club” is probably the worst song on the album. It begins with a grinding distorted guitar and it continues without much pause for 2 minutes. It is just too much. The points where it releases and is replaced with a pleasant baseline are very enjoyable, but it's not nearly worth the payoff. It also disrupts the flow of the song, preventing the instrumental from building properly, removing any chance for airiness, and taking away from an enjoyable vocal performance. I know what Hänlyn was going for, but the result is disappointing, especially considering she successfully executes this concept elsewhere in this EP. Thankfully, “Easy Peeler” is a complete release of tension. Weaving in three different acoustic guitars at some points, Hänlyn creates an elegant sound. Her beautiful vocals only add to it. She adds an electric guitar on the chorus and later verses, ensuring she won’t lose that familiar low end, as she thrives atop the mix. My only gripe with this song is its occasional struggles layering the instrumental, however she nails it on the last try. She lets the vocals rest a bit longer on the last attempt, allowing herself time to layer the final high point, piece by piece, and give this pretty song the ending it deserves. “Today (Can’t Help but Cry)” is as good of a conclusion as “Dry Me” is a start. The sharp contrast between the two allows the audience to reflect on the 26 minute journey as they enjoy the Kate Bush-like world Hänlyn creates down the stretch of this final track. A classic indie pop intro is followed by soaring verses. She clears out any distortion in favor of echoing vocals, for a dreamy sound. Hänlyn sings in stride with the music on this track. Instead of looking for a pocket in the mix for her vocals, she floats alongside it. She minimizes the instrumentation of the bridge in favor of those echoed vocals, before bringing it back to ride out the album. She lets the audience admire this soundscape as it fades away, taking her 2023 EP with it. My initial thoughts centered around how many risks she took considering the quality and consistency of her first EP. However, I now realize that for Hänlyn, executing risks comes naturally. She stays within her abilities, and those abilities are responsible for one of my favorite releases of the year. Things like building tension, mid-line tone shifting, vocal layering, and messing around with song structure, are occasional tools for most artists (something to try once in a while for effect). For Gretel Hänlyn they are an integral part of her sound. She is so advanced, it's hard to believe her streaming numbers aren’t higher, but it won’t be long. Of course, there are kinks to work out on this EP, but to me, they feel like the musical equivalent to first-world problems. There is one glaring miss on this album, but there are so many good things to unpack, even on that song, I have no problem looking by it (except when I’m rating). If you haven’t listened to Head of the Love Club please do, and if you haven’t heard of Gretel Hänlyn, you’re welcome. Head of the Love Club is a 9.25/10. Suggested Listening Balance

< Back THE POP SHOP As music continually evolves, defining pop gets increasingly difficult. Michael Jackson is the ‘king of pop’, yet he falls under the same general mega-genre as Ethel Cain, The Beach Boys, and Shania Twain. Strange but true. The pop quandary is most evident, to me, in a record store. Most often, you’ll find a pop/rock section. Certainly that model was sensible at a time, especially in a stretch like the 80s through the 2010s. These days however, I’m not sure those two genres align as closely. With acts like Imagine Dragons and Fall Out Boy fading, the bridge between the two has narrowed in favor of the slow-motion collision of rap and pop. Therefore, everytime I see a pop/rock section, I’ve granted myself permission to chuckle at whatever dinosaur constructed it. As a freshman in college without a credit rating (or whatever you need to own a business), I have no chance of running a record shop anytime soon. Admittedly, my opinion is from the outside looking in, however my occasional frustration with genre organization is justified. So, because my writing this article is conveniently inconsequential, let’s organize my theoretical record shop: The Pop Shop. Here at the Pop Shop, we operate under the assumption that all of our customers are equally, if not more, opinionated as myself, especially regarding genre placement of their favorite artists. Now that I’m a shop owner, I suppose I’ll have to make compromises here and there to accommodate customers with diversified taste. As I touched on previously, pop is what holds most genres together. Pop is the key to a broad musical palette. Therefore as a record store owner with fairly diverse taste and an equally multi-interested customer base, my first order of business is to define pop. Is pop linear? Well, I’m not sure but I might be by the time this paragraph is done. My instinct is to say yes. One of my favorite music-listening activities is creating playlists that transverse eras. It’s very satisfying to look at dissimilar beginnings and endings to tracklists, wondering how they connect, and finding out somewhere in the middle. How did American popular music seamlessly evolve (or regress) from Frank Sinatra to Drake? That’s an answer for another article, but it certainly did. The keyword to my previous claim is seamless. There is no definite instant in pop music history in which the definition itself suddenly changed. There have been game changing artists, releases, even songs, but mass artistic or stylistic change simply can’t happen over night. The result is a genre which is constantly mentioned but insufficiently defined. Concise or concrete definitions to abstract concepts are futile in nearly every case. That’s why I’m taking a whole article to unpack it, instead of a sign behind the Pop Shop’s front desk. So, after brief deliberation, pop is indeed linear. It’s not linear in a traditional sense though. It’s not a straight line. It’s a chain linked together by genre-bending or trailblazing artists. That chain looks drastically different at some points than others, but it’s all one piece. I’ll take it a step further: it's a gyre. Pop is a gyre If you don’t know what a gyre is, you haven’t explored our homepage enough. Go now. Welcome back. To summarize: a gyre is a linear pattern in which a vortex widens from a point until it reaches a breaking point of sorts, it then continues from a single point in the center of the widened end. The most important thing to understand about the pop gyre, is that it doesn’t stop at any point, which makes it linear, but it does have significant and traceable points of reshaping. These points are marked by collections of those aforementioned artists, projects, and songs. Whether it's Billie Holiday’s shedding the light of pop culture on the horrors of the south, the gay sensation that was Freddie Mercury, or one of David Bowie’s many genre-quaking phases, individual impacts on mainstream pop music have more significance in the real world than we could understand. That impact, if you want to fully understand pop, cannot be separated from the stylistic evolution of the genre. I have no problem with the general opinion that Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra are America’s first pop stars. That makes them ground zero for American music’s gyre. Highlighting an artist is a very useful tool for defining a genre, someone who encapsulates the sound and or attitude of a musical movement. Artists like The Beatles, David Bowie, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Madonna, and Adele have all held that role. You’ll find all of those artists in the Pop Shop’s signature pop section. However, as they don’t currently define 2023’s pop sound, they can’t be at the center of our biggest section. We have to pick a new artist. 2023’s centerpiece of pop ‘Finally some specifics’, says any reader more interested in facts than conceptual rambling. 2023’s pop music landscape is broader than ever. As music continues to evolve, despite the gyre resets, the scale of pop will continue to broaden. That only makes sense. Generally, anything that charts on the billboard is somehow pop-adjacent. Nowadays that means pop directly overlaps with rap, r&b, country, indie, and rock, among others. When Kendrick Lamar was charting with To Pimp A Butterfly, pop had a link with jazz. When The Weeknd and Dua Lipa started stylistically dipping into 80s tropes, pop had a link to a different decade. When Lil Uzi Vert charted with “Just Wanna Rock”, pop had a link to New Jersey club. That’s all to say a diverse landscape makes it hard to pinpoint a centerpiece, but I have a pick: SZA. Although pop is the common ground for any mainstream genre, it always has a definable sound. This sound is constantly shifting, and with rap and r&b packing the charts, it has begun to shift that direction. The more palatable, even inoffensive, approach that a Taylor Swift or Harry Styles brings to the table is no longer the solution. The ideal pop star has to incorporate their own sound, have an interesting persona, a splash of sexuality, but most of all, the ability to collaborate. I don’t just mean Dua Lipa adding Dababy to her song that’s already charting, I mean real sound-altering collaboration. SZA has all of that. SZA has been a fixture in modern r&b since her hit album Ctrl, but her 2022 release SOS launched her into the center of today’s music scene. The hit single “Kill Bill”, which was accompanied by quite the music video, captured a huge audience. Her variety of moods accommodated brand new audiences. Her attitude and personality thrilled her long-time fans. And, her well-executed and occasionally unexpected features further proved her ability to bring together the best in music. Try “Kill Bill”, “Seek & Destroy”, “Snooze”, “Ghost in the Machine”, and “Open Arms”. Though it leans towards r&b, SOS embodies pop. It will be listened to, referenced, and imitated for the rest of this decade. So, when you enter the Pop Shop looking to buy SOS, check smack in the middle of the store. Nitpicking Now that we’ve established the center of pop, we have to do the dirty work: marking borders. I think the best course of action is one mega-pop section subdivided into the various genres of influence and today’s popular sound. The outer walls will be lined with the following non-pop-adjacent genres: blues, punk, metal, folk/bluegrass, hip-hop, soul, jazz, house/techno, reggae, and classical. The border of the mega-pop section will be made up of the following pop-adjacent genres: rock, r&b, rap, indie, country, and latin. Each of those will connect to the mega-pop section like this: genre/pop. Here’s two defining artists for each, but the Pop Shop has everything. rock/pop Elton John Portugal. The Man r&b/pop Whitney Houston Ella Mai rap/pop Nelly Doja Cat indie/pop The Smiths Wet Leg country/pop Dolly Parton Chris Stapleton latin/pop Selena ROSALIA Prince gets his own section. Isn’t this fun? Closing for the night I find it interesting that pop seems to glean a negative connotation. For example, if you tell someone their favorite Canadian rapper, who they might consider a hip-hop icon, is more of a pop artist, they might take offense. In fact, I’ve found it's a good way to immediately turn a conversation into a confrontation. Try it some time. Then, remind them of that elite crop I just listed. Remind them that pop is the confluence of everything that is hot in music today. Remind them that it's a perfect gauge of just how much this divided country has in common. Remind them that ultimately genre has no relation to merit. If they’re still stuck on their anti-pop attitude, send them to my shop. I’ll be waiting. Previous Next

Forever Howlong: OK, Now Everyone Play At Once! By Ian Sherry 4/16/2025 Black Country, New Road’s newest project, Forever Howlong , is every bit as creatively constipated and authentically heady as their last cult favorite. In 2022 Black Country, New Road struck a 7 on the alt-rock Richter Scale with their second studio album, Ants from Up There . I listened, my head spun, and I moved on. At the time it wasn’t something I felt ready to formally rate as my thoughts didn’t match my friends’ positive ravings, but Pitchfork awarded it a 8.4 (and Rolling Stone currently has not 1, not 2, but 3 stories about Donald Trump on its homepage – just read The Culture Gyre instead). Now, I’ve got 3 years of patience and unwaveringly correct opinions under the belt I’m wearing to this BCNR review; let’s see what they brought. The density of the Black Country, New Road sound is what makes it so polarizing. While the reception of their music has been overwhelmingly positive, confused and overwhelmed appreciation is the dominant sentiment. I believe I’m starting to see through the haze (or hear rather). A true British situation, the BCNR instrumental repertoire includes drums, piano, sax, and a truckload of strings – electric guitar, acoustic guitar, bass, banjo, and violin. In true folk style, they use that litany of stringed instruments to form a steady sonic bed under the rotation of lead vocalists. From there, tradition is thrown to the wind. On Forever Howlong , the budding sextet of creatives leaned into their art-rock sensibilities in the absence of Isaac Wood, the gravitational center of their last sonic system. With their lead singer and strongest guitarist stepping aside, Black Country, New Road has begun to drift further from contemporary song structure. This record is defined by striking shifts within tracks that are dictated more by lyrical content than rhythmic progressions. The West Coast art-pop scene of the 60s and 70s lived by a similar code. Their dramatics were more so the product of free will than the type of musical reasoning BCNR operates with, however, the results are a bit too similar. Dramatic shifts between or within songs, which were a common issue on those LSD records, became an inexplicable normality on Forever Howlong . The stop-and-go is likely intended to draw the listener in, but the overuse of these atypical progressions makes for a laborious listening experience. “Socks” and “For the Cold Country” took years off my life. Luckily, BCNR has the power to give those years back. Just as soon as “Socks” pushed my face in the dirt, the pleasant build of “Salem Sisters” lifted my back up. A refreshingly decipherable and sprightly instrumental, a bit of solid structure, and beautifully done background vocals throughout the entirety of a track is all it took for me to buy into Black Country, New Road 4 songs in. When organized sonic clutter presents itself effectively, the results often feel elevated from an average band’s sound, but a balance is needed. The abstract needs normalcy to define itself, and BCNR checks that box when absolutely needed. Forever Howlong provides just enough straightforward material to anchor the rest of its content, and “Mary” is the perfect example. The instrumental bones are as simple as any track on the record and with that easy synchronicity on display, the group vocalists are free to steal the show as they deliver one of the record’s most powerful performative stretches over the final third of track 6. Some of their best displays of talent came just like that – naturally. On an album where they’ve clearly reconfigured to fill a Wood-shaped hole, it often feels like BCNR is chasing the dragon of bombastic songs like “The Place Where He Inserted The Blade.” The instinct to mimic one’s best work is tempting, but they don’t need to force conceptual complexity to make high level music. That’s obvious on the title track, which affords the rare opportunity for the listener to sit back and experience Black Country, New Road creating without having that creation thrust in our faces. “Forever Howlong” throws zero curveballs, stays within itself, shows just enough life on the bridge, and concludes with a quality finish, all to beg the question: why don’t they approach every track like this? I’ve got two answers, “Two Horses” and “Nancy Tries to Take the Night.” The first dreamily starts with a singular guitar and some lovely voices, then a whistle and a second guitar that continue to lull the listener through the 2-minute-mark when the track begins to come to life. It takes off fully at 3:00 when a firm bassline, dual guitars, and flourishing high keys flood the airwaves in perfect unison for an organically incredible sonic highpoint the likes of which I’d yet to hear across any of their work. The second begins with a 2-minute-long, guitar-forward introduction that gives way to a temporarily Adrienne Lenker-like vocal performance, before the song morphs into a tight, beat-like instrumental that continuously and relentlessly builds on itself before finally relinquishing to a theatrical minute-long vocal conclusion. It’s a ridiculous but inexplicably well-executed example of the musical behavior I’ve been trying to discourage. Sonic maximalism and track-to-track overambition plague this record but result in songs like those, which makes it much harder to condemn the approach. While the pursuit of 10/10 tracks feels forced on the majority of songs, Black Country, New Road is able to justify those pursuits, even within the songs that suffer from them. This record feels like a step back, but not the permanent kind. Wood’s guitar feels fairly irreplaceable at this point, but the trio of vocalists, Tyler Hyde, May Kershaw, and Georgia Ellery, was extremely effective, and their group vocal ability adds more to the sound than Wood’s vocal persona could alone. The balance of instrumental complexity and dynamic vocals led to their strongest work when properly struck, but the many lengthy intros tend to expose a less complex sonic palate that their structurally ambitious songs work to mask or overcome. Further mastery of their many moving parts and a matured understanding of listenability could result in their best record, but a deepened obsession with sonic maximalism and out-of-the-box track development may lead them down a path of creative anti-progress. Black Country, New Road: professional line-toers. Forever Howlong is a 7.6 .

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.

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.

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.

WALK WITH ME V 1/18/2024 BY: IAN SHERRY Smiles aren’t worth a thing anymore. Aretha Franklin holds many titles and distinctions, the Queen of Soul, Rolling Stone’s greatest vocalist of all time , and the best funeral featuring an Ariana Grande performance - to name a few. She grew from the shockingly powerful youth vocalist in her father’s church choir to the voice of the world’s foremost musical city, and she built a career steeped with superlatives along the way. June 10, 2017. My dad and I hop on our bikes and take a ride into the heart of Downtown Detroit to see Aretha Franklin. The Queen of Soul’s hot summer performance was free to the public and it attracted the perfect crowd. Lifelong fans from around the metro area poured in. As my dad led me through the crowd looking for familiar faces, which he correctly assumed was inevitable, there was a buzz I haven’t felt in any setting or any form since that day. I was young, which placed me in the minority (in more ways than one). Aretha’s audience mirrored herself. It was the generation that had to choose whether or not they’d flee when the city fell on rough times, and whose choice to stay was rewarded with a musical movement unparalleled in its time. As I rode up, chained my bike to a lightpost, and followed my dad into that crowd, I stepped into Motown. In that moment, ‘Motown’ became much more than the legendary record label or a nickname for the city I’d spent my whole life in. Motown is a people, and just as that understanding began to sink in, The Queen took the stage. Suffice to say, even at her age, she was still Aretha. Covering hits from all corners of her catalog with the help of a masterfully curated cast of supporting performers, she gave the crowd more than our money’s worth. One year, two months, and six days later, she was gone. Lumped into one massive and incredibly significant memory, I’ll never forget walking through my neighborhood after Aretha’s passing. As my family and I walked to dinner, her voice and music poured out of houses on every block. Listening to the neighborhood’s memorial serenade, I kept thinking back to that concert. Though it felt like just days before, with The Queen of Soul at rest, it had fully sunken in, to a level that can’t be easily smoothed over with time. Now, whenever I listen to the Aretha Franklin songs that live in the air of my childhood memories, the first thing that comes to mind, fills my chest, is that final loveletter she sang to her city on that summer day. It’s a difficult pill to swallow. Like any other member of that 2017 summer concert crowd, I am very familiar with Aretha’s work from the 50s through the 70s as well as her commercial resurgences in ‘85 and ‘98 . In that time she covered all the bases. Regarding emotions, she took her audience through it all: the anger and sadness of a breakup, the longing of romantic loneliness, the fatigued satisfaction of finally finding the right one, catching a break. She speaks to friends, lovers, exes, you, me, and nobody in particular. An untouchable songwriter, performer, and short-form storyteller, walking in stride with The Queen is a privilege that any member of her audience can experience. But there is one emotion, one mode, that she seldom lets show: pure unbridled joy. Now, as my dad aptly pointed out in a brief discussion of this article, 'she’s pretty fired up on “Doctor Feelgood.” ' A great point that I nudge to the side for two reasons. 1, With a discography as vast as Aretha’s, you're bound to stumble across almost any mood. 2, I hope you can imagine, I bear a fairly hefty weight each time I listen to the songs I was raised on, including “Dr. Feelgood”, which may well have played on the way to the concert that morning or as we strolled through the neighborhood a year later. So to the fault of nobody but myself, in order to share a purely joyful, burden-free moment with Aretha Franklin, I needed something new. Luckily, about a year ago, I stumbled upon a record that I’m sure did not play on those summer days in 2017/18, a record that finally flipped my emotional script when listening to The Queen of Soul: So Damn Happy . In 2003, admittedly after her final return to commercial / critical relevance, Aretha released So Damn Happy . The record did not gain any critical traction, which is understandable considering that stage of her career, however it's the cited reasoning I take issue with. In their brief but harsh, paragraph-long review, Rolling Stone gave props to the efforts of Mary J Blige on the production, but ultimately thrust Aretha’s 2003 effort aside because the vocals were ‘shrill’. They claimed the vocalist, who they declared the greatest singer of all time two decades later, didn’t belong on the 2000s contemporary r&b instrumentals. Why is that? I have a theory. The music critic community, into which I seem to have injected myself, has an unspoken responsibility to conform to fairly uniform taste. Meaning, even if a given writer’s individual taste doesn’t align with what is widely considered high quality work, there is pressure to recognize its merit. This year's best example of this tendency is the critical acclaim afforded to Sexyy Red . The newest culturally dominant female rapper, her style is unapologetic, and to me, unappealing. I am certain that I’m not alone in this opinion, however taking an anti-Sexyy stance at this point in her career is risky to say the least. Blowback could take any number of forms, including accusations of gender-based disrespect and being disregarded as someone who simply isn’t up with the times. (So if you’ll allow me to cover myself briefly), Sexyy Red is one of the most talented artists we’ve seen in generations; she is the future, no doubt. The reason for my digression is simply to highlight the fact that coordination is important, from sharing opinions on a given album to the validation of the most common musical tropes. Artists like Phoebe Bridgers have built a career on their ability to elevate their easily approachable sound with heavily emotional writing and performances. Bridgers could easily sit in the mainstream of pop like Taylor Swift , but she sets herself to the side through her complete commitment to all things melancholy. In doing so, she limits, or rather, concentrates her audience, creating a distinct although not overly unique sound, and placing herself in the favor of critics everywhere. It’s the same factor that elevates artists like Big Thief or Jeff Buckley who dip into the sad sack and happen to be some of my favorites. Effectively conveying emotion through music is an achievement critics recognize across the board, however, they seem to disregard one key emotion: Joy. This brings me back to Aretha. For my money, there is no song in her entire discography more joyful than “Wonderful,” from So Damn Happy . After years and years of listening to The Queen battle through heartbreak and romantic confusion, there’s nothing more refreshing than experiencing a new thing, a good thing, by her side. She brings us into “Wonderful” with a bouncy and simple instrumental highlighted by flourishes on the keyboard. As strong a singer as ever, she rips through verses with her own flare, pace, and attitude, leading her backup singers through the sing-along-worthy chorus. As the energy builds throughout the song, Aretha begins to riff more on the microphone until the emotional climax in which her excitement takes control and transforms into joyful, nimble scatting. The entirety of So Damn Happy dabbles in a lot of musical and emotional elements, which may be largely responsible for its low profile, but “Wonderful” puts them together more effectively than any other song on her 2003 record. It's a simple yet perfectly executed step outside her wheelhouse, which is something that is critically celebrated in nearly any other scenario. So why haven’t you heard of it? Why is the song that makes me happier than any other not championed by critics the way they do Big Thief’s “Change” or Jeff Buckley’s “The Sky Is A Landfill?” Why is the nagging sadness I feel when listening to the music I associate with that final concert valued more than the joy I feel at the hands of my new discovery? Why is it that pulling your audience up into your state of happiness isn’t as critically significant as dragging them into your misery. Is it an industry trend? Is it the assumption that suffering is more relatable to the masses? Is it the widespread use of music as a coping mechanism for the streaming generation? Is it a societal obsession with hardship and misery? Don’t ask me, I love being happy. Listen to “Wonderful” if you do too.

WALK WITH ME (2) 9/17/2023 BY: IAN SHERRY I Don’t Know If I’m A Dog There’s this rapper named Drake , and he’s reached my last nerve. I woke up this morning to finish off my Teezo Touchdown review. Unfortunately I was sidetracked by the news regarding Drake’s upcoming album For All The Dogs . A few weeks ago, the second most streamed Canadian artist of 2023 announced he’d be releasing his eighth studio album on September 22. The excitement was, of course, evident all over social media. Drake has remained in the center of the industry for a decade now. He has leveraged the perfect mixture of palatability, swagger, industry firepower and occasional skill to amass one of the most widespread and dedicated fan bases in the world. So, what does he give those fans? A delayed release. The new date: October 6. Well, at least this gives me room to knock out my top priority articles before deciding if I’ll give Drake the time of day. I recently wrote about the importance of album releases in my review of Earl Sweatshirt and The Alchemist ’s Voir Dire . Allow me a brief call-back (to this article ). Album releases are the trendiest way to energize a fanbase for new music. The rollout of a new music release should be tailored by the artist to appeal directly to their unique fanbase, and it should fulfill one objective: adding value to the fan’s experience. For a true artist, making art is the foremost pleasure, followed by setting the stage for its reception. Now let’s compare that approach to Drake’s For All The Dogs. I don’t hang out with Drake much these days, so from an outside perspective this doesn’t feel artistic. His line of reasoning, which is logistically reasonable, is that he needs to finish his tour with 21 Savage to allow more time in the studio. He doesn’t want to deliver a substandard product. My question is this: was he planning on releasing a substandard product on September 7 when he announced the original date? I’m reviewing Teezo Touchdown’s debut on my other browser tab. I could expect this kind of indecisiveness from him because he’s never released a full length album before. But this is Drake’s 8th studio album. Number eight. Drake is the most popular rapper in the world, and he certainly knows what he’s doing. If he really thought the original date would work, he wasn’t considering quality. If he didn’t think it would work, he just crossed a line by stirring up the public and his die-hard fan base, only to postpone for the sake of grabbing some headlines and building more suspense. By manipulating his audience in this way Drake has violated the purpose of the album rollout. Either way, Drake knows better. Now that my bone’s picked, I'd like to address the music. I’ve been labeled by some as a ‘Drake hater’. I disagree. I think he just does a lot of things I don’t like. In fact, I’m hoping and praying that this album will be great - I want to be won over. Drake’s albums often feel rushed or bloated, which is understandable when you’re under pressure to satisfy an audience so large and hungry. The last Drake album I enjoyed was 2017’s More Life , but I drew the line at 2021’s Certified Lover Boy . First of all, what kind of a title is that? The cover wasn’t any better, and shockingly, neither was the music. Too many features, too little effort. Drake was looking to do big numbers, and he did. He always can, from his Virgil Abloh-dedicated record that he dropped unannounced, to the 21 Savage collab that he’s touring on right now. What I need from him this year is to lock in, ignore the hype, forget about the charts, and make great music. His lead single doesn't give me a lot of hope: “Slime You Out” features SZA and is a typically unconvincing and formulaic performance from a rapper who knows he’s safe. However, there’s still a lot to be excited about for this record. For me, it starts on Travis Scott ’s Utopia . “Meltdown” is one of the better songs on Scott’s latest record, due in large part to Drake’s verse. He delivers it in an aggressive whisper, providing a convincing level of intensity that we’ve been missing for years. But his audience deserves more. I also need more L il Yachty production, he’s on fire in the studio these days, and he’s a member of the production crew on For All The Dogs . If you’re familiar with Yachty’s 2023 album, or his growing list of production credits, you should be excited like me. For All The Dogs should also benefit from the relationship between Drake and Nicki Minaj . The long time friends and collaborators have produced some of their catchiest work together: “Only” , “Truffle Butter” , and “Make Me Proud” come to mind. Drake’s reunion with Travis Scott went very well, I expect his reunion with Nicki Minaj to hit hard as well. I expect a good album, I expect fans to receive it on the 6th of October, and I expect Drake’s son’s drawing skills to take leaps and bounds forward in the upcoming years. (For All The Dogs cover art by Adonis Graham) The stage is set - it just keeps moving. Stay tuned for more insights next month… Cover art for Drake's upcoming album For All The Dogs , by Adonis Graham

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.

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.

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.

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.