Quadeca Has Finally Arrived On I Didn’t Mean To Hau nt You BY: Ian Sherry 11/ 25/22 On November 10, 2022, Quadeca released his newest project I Didn’t Mean To Haunt You. Quadeca is 22 years old. In those 22 years, he has been very busy. He started a YouTube channel in 2012 which has accumulated 1.95 millions subscribers. In 2015 at age 15, he released his first album. His rapping until recently was a sort of side hobby, but in the last few years his focus has shifted to his music - so much so, that when you google Quadeca, aka. Benjamin Lasky, he is listed as an American rapper. His music has always been mildly compelling, clearly drawing from different inspirations at every turn. But ultimately, it wasn’t very good. He mostly employed basic rapping flows and his wordplay, though occasionally clever, was clunky and often interfered with the rhythm of his verses. It felt like his many ideas were constantly stepping over each other to the point that he failed to produce cohesive projects. Something changed in 2021. From Me To You marked Quadeca’s first push at a laser-focused album. Though it still had many of the same issues, the album featured more unique production, new delivery styles, and a more vulnerable approach that allowed him to focus on a more singular theme. It wasn’t impressive overall, but it was a big step in the right direction for Quadeca. That being said, coming into 2022, he had not proven himself. I heard murmurs heading into the rollout of I Didn’t Mean To Haunt You that Quadeca had stumbled into something. There were minimal details, but the consensus of those in-the-know was that something special was in the works. I was interested, but not convinced-- until I heard “born yesterday.” This first single of Quadeca’s 2022 project set the tone for what has become one of my favorite releases of the year. I’ll do my best to explain it, but the truth is you ought to hear it for yourself. “born yesterday” brings raw emotion that he has never communicated before and does it in an epic way. It tells the story of a broken love and it feels like catharsis. One that was long overdue. The pain in his voice is beautiful and it mixes perfectly with the production’s highs, lows and moments of chaos to create a strong candidate for song of the year. “sorry4dying” is a great introduction to the narrative and production style Quadeca chose for his album. It's followed by the second single “tell me a joke”, and the two combined set the tone perfectly for the rest of the record. Their scratchy production is very unique, at its best balancing minimalist styles with an organized clutter to create the intense environment in which Quadeca thrives. The anger and pain is evident in every lyric and his delivery only adds to it. It's easy to see what I mean on these first two songs, and it's clear he feels most comfortable when he is able to replicate this sound throughout the album. The three most unique songs on the album show up successively with “house settling”, “knots”, and then “fantasyworld”. While none of them are perfect, I am thrilled that he tried each of them, and in my opinion, this is the stretch that really cements this album. “house settling” includes the first and most important feature of the album in Danny Brown. The first half of the song is admittedly a little bit messy but its energy does the job of mimicking a moment of intense emotion which Danny Brown puts into words around the halfway mark. His verse is perfect. He shouts out an emotional yet targeted summary of his side of a breakup and provides a nice break from the continuous metaphor with his brutal honesty. It's messy but effective. “Knots” follows it with a continuation of the energy Danny Brown brought to the song before. It's essentially an electronic punk song. It's loud, incoherent, entertaining, and the furthest Quadeca has ever ventured from his comfort zone. The third member of this trilogy, “fantasyworld”, is a complete directional switch. After the sonic intensity of the previous songs, Quadeca returns with his slowest paced song of the album. It's long but doesn’t feel that way. He portrays his pain in the opposite light, instead of the vengeful attitude of the previous songs he just puts his vulnerability on display. It's touching, but more importantly, it is a blatant display of the versatility that I think could fuel a long career for Quadeca. Quadeca finishes the album perfectly. This is a difficult task, especially when trying to complete a narrative like he has on this record. With “fractions of infinity” he returns to a similar vein as “tell me a joke” except this time he has a choir. It has all the same minimalist production and a similar delivery, but this time, it has background vocals and a chorus reminiscent of some of Beach House’s best songs. It finishes with a stripped down instrumental break and a full feature from the Sunday Service Choir. “fractions of infinity” shows not only that Quadeca is comfortable collaborating with yet another style of musician(s), but that he is capable of making it feel like a Quadeca song. The album ends with “cassini’s division”. It is a spoken piece delivered over a collection of different sound bites that come together perfectly to create an eerie atmosphere in which Quadeca can leave his audience. Quadeca decided to finish I Didn’t Mean To Haunt You with nearly three minutes of static on the back end of “cassini’s division”. Though it's an artistic choice that may not please the ears, I think it's a perfect way to show how he felt cut short, and there’s no better way to complete an album than on the artist’s own terms. I Didn’t Mean To Haunt You is the story of a man who’s love meant so much to him that when it was taken, his life ended. The album is everything he left unsaid, told from the perspective of someone who ran out of time. Quadeca put everything into this album in an attempt to fully embody his character and it shows. He even has an hour long video to coincide with the album on his YouTube page if that interests you. I Didn’t Mean To Haunt You is admittedly messy at times, and Qudeca’s vocal performances and lyrical abilities show a clear room for improvement, but ultimately, it's a success. It is entirely written, produced, and performed by Quadeca and his hand selected features. To me, it’s evidence that hard work, talent, and passion are the key ingredients to any masterpiece. In this case it's Quadeca’s masterpiece. Quadeca’s I Didn’t Mean To Haunt You is a 7.75/10.

THE ODYSSEY 8/5/2026 - Dawson Sarcona - Ian Thomas Sherry The following is a transcribed and edited conversation between CG reviewers Ian and Dawson about Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey DAWSON: Just starting off, Ian, I know you've read The Odyssey before. Were you a fan of the casting and the performances? Do you think they kind of held up to Homer’s version? IAN: Yeah, well, starting with the story. First of all, you had to tell me the bard was Travis Scott, but I thought that was fantastic, the way that they included that, 'cause that's the way it was told for so long. They hit all the points, obviously. And I thought that the plot moved along pretty well for such a long thing to adapt. You know, I just watched O Brother, Where Art Thou. It's so loose to call it an adaptation of the Odyssey - I mean, I get it's a comedy, but this (Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey) is right on point and moves along. And yeah, with the casting, I had some favorites for sure, but I'm gonna kick that back to you. Were there any favorite castings or performances for you? DAWSON: I mean, there's a lot of performances getting gassed up from this movie, and I feel like rightfully so. Anne Hathaway did a really good job (as Penelope). And I like the direction Nolan took her character too. But my favorite, and this is the basic answer, 'cause it's the main character, I really like Matt Damon's performance. Really enjoyed just the energy he brought to it. I've seen him in a lot of other action movies like the Jason Bourne films, and they're really boring to me, so this kind of solidified to me like - oh, he actually knows how to do this stuff, because I found his performance very captivating and I like the complexity that he brought to the character. Though Nolan has a bit of… I wouldn't say an issue, but he does this thing with all his characters where he kind of.. makes them extremely noble and tries to make them the most, you know, complex ‘I'm gonna take accountability for everything’ characters. When from what I've heard, in the original Odyssey Odysseus is kind of just like a trickster and is kind of a little bit just like… IAN: -He’s not so apologetic.- DAWSON: Yeah, so I think that that was a good change and I think that Damon portrayed that well. And I also really thought Robert Pattinson shined in his role. I would have liked to see more of his character just being a douchebag because he was good at it. IAN: He is. I went with my sister, and she was raving about how good he was as a villain. And yeah, I totally agree. And like Dawson said, Anne Hathaway was great; she was strong in her performance, you know, that's important in this day and age… So what did you think of Tom Holland’s Telemicus? DAWSON: So, Tom Holland was... Well, he didn't have a bad performance by any means, but I would like to see that they gave him more to do. I am a fan of him as an actor, and I feel like - I say this wearing a Spider-Man hoodie, but I still think No Way Home was one of his best performances, and I would have loved to see him allowed to bring that emotion in this movie. It just wasn't necessary for the character, so like I get it, but it (the performance) was kind of middle of the road for me. IAN: I think part of that is the character, like he's limited; he never even gets to step into the throne room in any aspect, leadership-wise, and his main function in this film was to move the plot along with the cutting back and forth. And I thought that was pretty easy to understand, given I already knew the story, but still it flowed pretty well, so I thought he did well. I enjoyed his performance. DAWSON: We’re there any castings that were distracting for you? IAN: Charlize Theron as Calypso, that was a little strange. Only because I didn't feel like it was well enough introduced, but that situation was eventually explained. It's supposed to be mysterious to an extent, but I also don't know how accurate it is, her living washed up on the beach. That's not how I interpreted reading it. - What about yourself? DAWSON: Yeah, I can agree with that. She just kind of felt like an empty character, just kind of a plot device. And I know that she has more acting chops in her, so maybe it's just more of a writing issue. But yeah, her and Benny Safdie, as Agamemnon, I felt very like he stood out most specifically, probably. With the helmet off, he just kind of gives off, for lack of a better term, dorky energy. IAN: He did. DAWSON: - They spent so many of his shots in the movie, framing him as, like, very imposing and cinematic and a guy that you don't want to mess with. Then like, they have Odysseus speak to him, and he's very soft-spoken and kind of friendly with Odysseus, which I’m not sure if that's how it was in the book, but I would assume that maybe it was not. IAN: I would have expected the character to be, furious, you know, and to have some sort of facial wound from being killed - a crazed warlord that sacrificed so much, and was caught up in his own home, I think, he would probably be more bitter and angry. But we're kind of splitting hairs here, I think, overall, that (oracle scene) was pretty great. DAWSON: This is probably his (Nolan’s) biggest accomplishment. I mean, I think that's fair to say. It's the first movie ever filmed completely on IMAX, which means it was also filmed completely on film, like traditional film, which is not something you see a lot nowadays. And watching it, seeing all the love and care put into it; it's just very clear. Especially when it comes to the practical stuff that they do with the Cersei scene in the pig transformation and in the Cyclops stuff. For perspective, there was a guy in full Cyclops makeup, and then for other scenes they had a full 60-foot Cyclops puppet that they built for the characters to interact with. So it’s stuff like that could have just been blue-screened and CGI-ed, but instead they took the time and really actually made it to the best they could, that is a testament to how much not only Christopher Nolan cares about movies, but how important that stuff still is to making a great movie - and you can really tell when you're in that theater, especially the IMAX theater. IAN: I thought the way that the Cyclops moved was really awesome; it was otherworldly, and it made the whole scene a lot better. That's one of the more famous scenes I was wondering how they were gonna execute it, what it was gonna look like, you know, and it was like a mutant child type-thing, which makes perfect sense because I believe it's a giant and Poseidon’s offspring, so it was pretty wild, and it was the same with Cersei. They could have had her wave a wand and poof them (Odysseus’ men) into pigs, and nobody would have batted an eye, but the idea to kind of go the horror direction, that ended up being one of the more memorable scenes in the whole film to me. DAWSON: I learned the other day that Ithaca, the island that they used for that, is a real island and that's a real castle, and they got permission to film there, but they weren't allowed to build anything, so like they couldn't build a road to get their film supplies up there. So they had to literally airlift and then, by hand, carry like thousands of dollars of equipment up this hill every day to film there. And I think that's just another cool example of the people who worked on this movie really putting in the effort, and I think it shows in volumes when you see it. IAN: This is interesting because it looks really genuine, the castle, and it looks pretty untouched and like weathered. I also thought the plucking of the bow- that was a great moment. They planted that seed early on, and it was pretty cinematic when it did it in the end, so I thought that was pretty cool, and I'm not sure I remember that from the book; I think the book is moreso about being able to execute the challenge, just stringing it and shooting, so I think that was pretty cool. DAWSON: Yeah, and I noticed a few things about that on my rewatch too of like how much that is woven into the story, and it's stealthily. There's a lot of stuff, Nolanisms, just a lot of really interesting details that are just sprinkled in there. Like, for example, a few that I can remember are: there's a song on the score called "Sirens," and it's the song that plays when Odysseus hears the sirens' song, and he's strapped to the, you know, pull in the ship and is listening to it. - IAN: - And it's at the same time; it's just the song on the score that we hear while he's listening to them. - DAWSON: - Right, yes, exactly, thank you. But that song is titled that, but it's technically like him and Penelope's theme in the movie because the only other times we hear it are when he and his wife are together. And so when he talks about the siren song being like “a song of like everything you've ever wanted and everything you ever wanted was something you had and lost,” I think that's just a really cool way to musically tie it into, like, when he hears that song, he's hearing something about Penelope and Telemicus. And going back to Telemicus, another thing is, any time they are viewing his flashbacks of his family, Telemicus is not facing the camera. It shows like a kid facing away from the camera, which is something Nolan does in like all of his movies. IAN: Now I'd like to get to my last big question if you don't have anything else. DAWSON: No, I don't think I have anything else. IAN: So The Culture Gyre is based on a concept, the gyre, which is a shape. Imagine two funnels facing into each other so at one end you would have an open circle and then a point in the center which would be the point of the other funnel going the opposite direction; would you consider this movie to be closer to “the point,” the thing that everybody in film is driving at, or would you say it's pushing an edge in the grand scheme of the film? DAWSON: I think it's interesting with Nolan because he is something - he's someone that all filmmakers kind of strive to be like; he is kind of anointed, almost anointed himself as like filmmaker royalty because he is, I believe, the president of the filmmakers' guild. So a lot of people, they kind of view him as like the one above all, and to be honest with you, he still has duds, he still has movies that fall through, so going into this movie I was excited, but I was not 100% certain, kind of like you are saying. I think the concept for this movie is kind of on that outer circle; it's something that you know a lot of people can do, and a lot of people have made adaptations of the Odyssey, right, and it's a general idea a lot of people have, but it's not necessarily always executed properly. There are so many ways that it can be done, and I think what's great about Nolan is he can kind of bring it into that inner focal point, like that thing that everyone's striving towards, because of the way he's able to direct things. And I think a lot of this comes down to the people going to the movies now who are so much more invested in cinema. I think just because of the nature of social media and how it's heightened everybody's opinions on things you're either going to the movie because you love this movie or you hate this movie, right? Like, there's rarely ever an instance now where someone's like ‘I have no thoughts on this’ and that's compounded by social media with people sharing those opinions. So he's kind of being built up and built up, and I think the fact that Nolan keeps pushing forward shows he's not the type of person who's building up this reputation for himself and just kind of going with the flow. He hasn't plateaued yet. He keeps pushing the bar farther for himself, and you don’t know what his next movie is going to be or when it's going to be, but he's been pushing out movies every three years. Which is a crazy production turnaround, especially considering the scale of stuff he's making. So my long-winded answer to your question is, yes, I think that this movie, especially in Nolan's way of approaching film, is pushing for the center of the gyre. I think the future of film has to be like this; it has to be more people who care, people who are doing things practically and who are trying new things with reliable stories, even if just because there's only so many stories that can be told. I would say the same about Obsession this year by Curry Barker, right? The one wish willow. The monkey paw- that is a story that has been told countless times by countless people, but he sat down, and he found a way to make it fresh, and he put a lot of love and practicality into it, and it was probably the second biggest movie of the year so far in terms of box office success. So yeah, I think right now the future of film, the focal point from that poem is this notion of bringing more originality to movies, and we need to do it out of love and care and not for the purpose of making money for a studio. And it's in the details, but careful detail. IAN: I agree. DAWSON: Yeah, and you know, obviously studios care about money, but I think people - I think studios right now are kind of finding that if they prioritize originality, it benefits them more in the long term.

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.

Return of the Clipse By Ian Sherry 7/23/2025 On July 11, Clipse returned with Let God Sort Em Out . One of hip hop’s greatest duos is back in all-time brotherly form. Before I share the upshot, let’s talk about the Fall-off. The gist is this: at some point every rapper hits a wall, loses the juice. After years in a game that demands killer instinct and inter-industrial connections, there comes a time when artist can no longer create in the rat-race-space that is hip hop. Did you listen to Music To Be Murdered By (20) ? That was a falloff. Did you listen to Donda (21) ? That was a falloff. Did you listen to Tha Carter VI (25) ? That was a falloff. Pusha T is 48 years old. That’s older than Eminem, Kanye, and Wheezy at the time of their respective Fall-offs, which only makes more impressive the fact that rap’s champion of old-school weight-moving is only getting stronger. Upon entering what would be a tricky period in the average rap career, Pusha T has released 3 consecutive catalog-topping records, and this time it’s a family affair. Sometime in the early 90s, brothers Gene and Terrance Thornton were kicked out of their family home, onto the streets of Virginia Beach when their father found a brick in his kitchen. Now living on the same streets they served, the brothers had no choice but to make some shit shake. Luckily, they had some talent tucked behind all the 1s in their pockets. With moving being their specialty, they soon discovered their ability to move people with their raps. As Terrar and Malicious tore across the VA underground, it wasn’t long before Pharrell made that same discovery. And the Clipse was born. The duo made an immediate impact on the 2000s rap landscape, locking down their place in Southern rap history and influencing the following wave of hip-hop-heads (Tyler The Creator especially) across their first two records. But as The Neptunes p assed on production responsibilities to Mr. Combs and the brothers’ life paths became, divergent their work together came to an end in 2010, with Pusha T entering the Kanye-sphere and Malice stepping away to find God and write his memoir. For a long time Clipse felt like a part of hip-hop history, a part of that time I just barely missed, a dynamic connection I never quite got to experience. Eclipses are a powerful rarity of nature: an otherworldly cycle beyond our control brings into alignment two massive looming figures in our sky, turning out our lights and placing the world on pause. Its been 15 years since the last Clipse, and the moment VA’s finest realigned, my world went on pause . 'Chivalry ain’t dead, you ain’t let her go alone, Found you in the kitchen, scriptures in the den Half-written texts that you never got to send Combin through your dresser drawer, where do I begin? Posted Noted Bible quotes, were you preparing then?. Malice’s words on “The Birds Don’t Sing” hit me harder than any other lyrics released this year, and they gave it to us in track 1. There’s not personal information readily available on the internet regarding the Thornton clan (a self-ensured blessing on their part I’m sure), which only adds to the mystique of Clipse as they dive into both family and personal matters for the length of Let God Sort Em Out . The record's first offering begins a pattern of ferociously confronting the elephants and skeletons scattered across the Thornton household, their beginnings which they’ve revisited in metaphor for years now – all with the help of John Legend's golden vocals. It’s a phenomenal first track content-wise as it flips the narrative on Clipse’ past from a place they escaped to a place they feel the need to revisit, with Pusha spewing his regrets from an apologetic place he’s seldom displayed and Malice recounting the tragic, consecutive passings of their parents with a special focus on his painfully retrospective appreciation for his father. Malice’s tirelessly constructed perspective works to offset his hotter-headed brother, deepen the album’s content, and link its chaotically corresponding takeaways. I had small but reasonable concern about the brothers’ chemistry, considering the 15 years that passed and the changes they’ve undergone. It seemed Clipse no longer had their collective focus, dope dealing, but in a satisfying show of maturity and a will to succeed, they found common ground. With their feet on familiar soil: the skateboard beats of the man who discovered them a quarter century ago, the brothers Clipse stand back-to-back ready to spit (with K Dot in tow). And as the second Pharrell instrumental rumbles to life, a storm of thought approaches. Scene by: Allie Larpenteur Clipse bursts into motion “Chains & Whips,” as lyrics slice through the air publicly eliminating internally burdensome and real-life targets alike. Kendrick Lamar drops in beside them to tack on a third fantastic verse – his relentless assessments of self and surroundings blend perfectly with his hosts, a pattern that’s common among this return album’s carefully sorted guests. Just like that, God’s sorting has sprung into full effect. The fashionista thug persona Pusha has been cultivating over his last two solo projects goes beyond lyrical content; his increasingly heady beat selection and ever-expanding industry access have allowed his sound to reflect this era of his career. Now, with Malice by his side, Pusha seems to have a reinvigorated sense of urgency in his words. Both brothers preach lifestyles, and while they differ in certain respects, they’re able to coexist within cohesive tracks thanks to a comfortable chemistry and like-mindedness in the most key areas. "M.T.B.T.T.F." is my favorite example. The underlying source of Let God Sort Em Out’s holistic synergy is Pharrell Williams. The sonic platform of this album exudes royalty and palpably high stakes – the perfect climate for Thorntons. Williams played big role in Pusha T’s recent stylistic progressions, and his wall-to-wall effort on this record only further solidified a sacred scene at the crossroads of contemporary hip-hop. It goes beyond banger beats like “Ace Trumpets.” The album feels like a collective vision. Take the flow from “M.T.B.T.T.F.” into “E.B.I.T.D.A.” : track 7 is a thumping beat. The choppy drums perfectly set up heavy bass drops, like tossing a ball up and slamming it down over and over and over as the brothers let their punches fly. Track 8 follows with Pharrell riding his light, spacey beat from the needle drop. His synth-work and atmospherics on “E.B.I.T.D.A.” replicate the elevated tension of a “Summer Madness” and maintain it as a backdrop for his fellow emcees. He is the glue and one of the many forces that brought these titans back into alignment. Following the seventh track, every song on the album has a feature. When track 9, “F.I.C.O.” presented a beat in the tonal valley between its successors’ sounds, Stove God Cooks swept in with the perfect hook to match. When Pusha laid down one of the hardest verse-chorus combos to start “Inglorious Bastards,” Ab Liva was there to deliver an on-par capping verse in a refreshing bassy tone the nasally Virginians lack. When Pharrell introed the eleventh track, “So Far Ahead” in his computer hip-hop gospel bag (which I could take or leave), he perfectly set up the sturdy beat drop into a relentless Pusha T verse. It worked so nice, they did it twice! (Which I didn’t need). This time dropping into a superior Malice verse, before trotting that flow-stopping chorus out one more time (which I really didn’t need, perhaps the only decision I disagree with record-wide). Nas stopped by quick on “Let God Sort Em Out/Chandeliers,” taking over the second half after a no-sweat-vet beat switch and riding a rolling beat for the album’s most memorable stand-alone feature. As the notorious number 13 rolled around, the sun started to emerge as "By The Grace Of God" introduced light to the previously stark sonic setting. The triumphant ending track finally eased the constantly applied pressure, allowing me to reflect on the album. And as I searched for chinks in the armour, I soon came to realize there are none. My expectations were massive for this record that I never thought I'd see, and my expectations were met. Does one small song-flow decision on a passable tune with great verses negate that fact? No. Let God Sort Em Out is a 10.

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

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.

ENOUGH CHEER: ONE BRAVE MAN'S FIGHT AGAINST SEASONAL SONIC SUFFERING 12/25/23 BY: IAN SHERRY I am Scrooge (in the Groot voice). I don’t like Marvel movies, nor do I like Christmas music. One of the most hotly contested seasonal debates, I always take the side of grumpy opposition, and I have reasons. While I plan to lay them out in an organized fashion momentarily, I have one question for fans of this genre: Do you truly believe, in your merry little hearts, that ‘jingle bells’ are both a tolerable instrument and viable lyric? If so, you're wrong, but allow me to further provide reasons to shut off the radio. I’d like to begin with the disclaimer that there are some acceptable occasions. For instance, you can listen to Christmas music to put you in the so-called spirit within 72 hours of the big day , the same way you listen to a sweatily angsty R&B song to get you in a romantic mood or an mind-numbingly bland Mac DeMarco song to go to sleep. However, it is absolutely required that, somewhere in the back of your mind, you are open to the fact that a creatively negative adjective must accompany your cheer-filled opinion of a given song. Unfortunately, many ignore that requirement. Backtracking: Genres have a traceable and consistent formation process. I’d describe them as ⅓ influence, ⅓ innovation, and ⅓ capitalism. It starts with an artist or group of artists that are influenced by the sound around them. This could be what they’re raised on, what they come to love, or what they’ve grown to despise. As a result, they’re inspired to put their own spin on it, innovation. Once these two key ingredients come together and a new sound is born, capitalism takes care of the rest, packaging and selling their art to the public in droves until a new genre is born . It’s a symbiotic process that combines the beauty of creativity with the necessity of money. Christmas music is certainly a genre, however, it’s unique in its formation. Holidays are rooted in tradition. Tradition is a powerful binding factor. It brings together generations, races, nations; whatever the division, if there’s a shared tradition, there’s a bridge. Because it is such an obviously powerful social phenomenon, money-makers worldwide continually seek to take advantage through the most evident and reliable manifestation of our traditions: holidays. America (where I live, if that wasn’t evident) was founded, populated by, and constructed in favor of Christians. Christ-ians are very interested in Christ. So, in this rich Christian-empowered nation, Jesus Christ’s birthday has become more than a religious day or season. It’s the most wonderful time of the year. That goes particularly for those on the production end of our beloved nationwide money-making arrangement. Naturally this means money flowing into the pockets of the producers. That stretches beyond the small businesses, malls, even Amazon. Yes, it stretches to music. Hence Christmas music. Hence this article. Christmas music, as a genre, is ¾ capitalism and ¼ everything that’s important to music. Is it morbidly naive to assume all artists who have produced Christmas music are focused solely on selling records? Yes. But, even those whose focus lies elsewhere, like the religious aspect of the holiday or joy of the season, still feed 100% into the powers that be. When Donny Hathaway slipped “Th is Christmas” into his 1971 self-titled masterpiece that includes “A Song For You,” among other classic tracks, he probably didn't analyze its profit potential. However, 50 years later, it nearly doubled the streams of any other song on the album, by far holding the number on his Spotify page. Is it a good song? Sure, by Christmas standards. It flourishes big horns at the beginning, before settling into a loungey early 70s groove fronted by one of the purest vocalists of his era, and it’s supported by poppy drums and a piano solo. However, sitting at the end of one of the most emotionally raw, underrated, and era-defining albums of all time, the source of its popularity (October-December) is all too evident. I won’t pretend it's a realistic expectation that an artist’s best music would be Christmas songs, and it’s no mystery why those songs are so popular, but what bothers me most about Christmas music is that, the majority at least, is bad. Unlike my previous set of mostly surface level market-based connections, this phenomenon is more complicated. It all starts with identity. Good music, in every single case, is infused with the artist’s identity. The lack of identity deprives the art of something that, although it may be hard to describe, gives the audience something to attach to. A good, and incidentally similar, example is Christian rock or rap. The artist is so focused on passing the religious identity and putting their faith/faith figure in the forefront, it seems they forget to be themselves. The fact is, your art has to come from you, otherwise it isn’t yours, otherwise it’s not art. Jesus didn’t make “God’s Not Dead (Like A Lion)” by the Newsboys (the first Christian Rock song that popped up on Google). He might’ve made What’s Going On , but he didn’t make that . Pardon my digression. Because identity is so essential to art, artists who have it go further, even if that identity is the embodiment of the mainstream (Taylor Swift). However, the American Christmas has a very strong identity as well. It has its own themes, schemes, even classics. For an artist to enter this space, they often feel the weight of this identity, and the pressure to adopt it. A Christmas album by any artist, we can use Taylor Swift, is sure to have multiple if not all covers. The Taylor Swift Holiday Collection (2008) is four Christmas classics with two Swift originals mixed in. Her originals play as average 2000s Taylor Swift songs, basic structure with an emphasis on the vocals and lyrics that cover the different angles of a past relationship, but wait, It’s also Christmas! This is common in original Christmas songs, the artist attempts to bring Christmas into their world, their sound, but it often takes over and the focus of the song settles in no-(wo)man's-land. What interests me more is the covers. There have been a select group of original songs over the years that struck gold. Someone wrote “Jingle Bells”. That select group has been covered relentlessly and will continue to be every December forever. Very recently (January 2, 2023 ), some awfully wise i ndividual wrote that ‘When done well, cover artists pay homage to the original song while offering their own spin or twist.’ I believe the problem with Christmas covers is this: there are absolutely no faces or names to the original songs anymore and absolutely no pressure to do something significantly individualistic with your own version. Cher’s Christmas is doing quite well this year. She brought in Stevie Wonder, Darlene Love, Michael Bublé, Cyndi Lauper, and of course, Tyga. In a recent interview, she claimed that “It's not your mother’s Christmas album”. I listened (yes, I listened), and I can confirm that it is indeed your mother’s Christmas album. Not my mother, she has great taste. It’s a lot like any other Christmas album, lot’s of jingles, choruses, and opportunities for my cynical eyes to roll. The most unique thing about Cher’s album: the volume. She’s pretty loud. Despite mistakenly naming the album ‘Christmas,’ instead of ‘Cher’s Seasonal Exercise In Mediocrity,’ her fun little features and reliance on the classics will serve her mightily and buy her truckloads more of those sparkly jeans (edgy) she’s wearing on the cover. That’s the formula, plenty of covers, a few originals folks can skip, and an angle for sales. Cher knows it, her label does, the radio does, and if you’re honest, you do too. As I’ve alluded to (or maybe I hav en’t, I never read these things back), not all Christmas music is bad, the concept just sets its participants up for failure. Few can overcome it, but as I ease towards a conclusion allow me to be momentarily positive. I would be remisced (hunted down) if I didn’t bring up Mariah Carey. When you look up Carey on google, aka The Queen Of Christmas, snowflakes fall down your screen. No joke. She completely dominates the season, and I can’t lie, I do enjoy this part. Here’s why she’s been so successful. Mariah Carey came up in a unique pop landscape. As hip-hop and pop collided, lots of effort went into blurring the lines. This era birthed trend after trend. Saggy jeans were sported by rappers emphasizing their streetness and r&b divas (Carey included) straddling the lines of sexy and cool. With the trends came pressures to be adaptable. Carey’s adaptability led to hit after hit. R&b, pop, hip-hop features, you name it, she nailed it. However, Mariah Carey didn’t define the era, it defined her. She embodied it, she took its identity on as her own. So, come December every year, she does the same with Christmas, and she does it better than anyone else. Mariah Carey was the 2000s and Mariah Carey is Christmas. Unfortunately for this seasonal genre, nobody can quite do what Mariah Carey does. There are other success stories in which an artist successfully strikes a balance. The Temptations were able to apply enough of their own identity on “Silent Night” and Stevie Wonder’s “Someday At Christmas” is popular because of how it repackages his social justice lens to fit the holidays. But, at the end of the day, they can’t touch “Papa Was A Rollin’ Stone” or “Love’s In Need Of Love Today” . The balance isn’t sustainable. Here’s what I suggest in place of Christmas music: music at Christmas. Someone close to me insists that their favorite song is a Christmas song despite its complete lack of thematic relevance. I whole-heartedly agree. FKJ’s “Die With A Smile” is a perfect exercise in sonic minimalism. It mesmerizes the listener with a lonely guitar, the occasional snare, synths, and an amplified bass drum. The vocalist repeats one line a few times, and creates a warm environment that no audience could resist. It’s my favorite Genius page ever and I use it to tune my speakers, but what I love most about it is the tone and minimalism which allow it to mean whatever you want it to. To this person it means warmth, joy, and memories. It means Christmas. Merry Christmas! -The Culture Gy re CHALLENGE 1: Listen to this posthumous disasterpiece: "Silent Night" by DMX CHALLENGE 2: Listen to the worst song I've ever heard on WDET: "Shopping" by Joseph Washington Jr.

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

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.

KISS 50 In Cadillac BY Ian Sherry - 12/12/2025 Kids and adults alike are packed into a loud dark gym. Teachers buzz around in attempts to control the still-growing crowd and single out cigarette smokers, when suddenly, bright lights overtake one side of the gym revealing the cause of the commotion: KISS. On October 9, 50 years ago, KISS came to Cadillac. Cadillac is located in the northwest of Michigan’s lower peninsula. The city’s population, which sits just above 10k, is comprised of lifetime residents, manufacturing professionals and their descendants, and retirees who enjoy the lake town’s cooler summers. It is a microcosm of midwestern America that functions as a haven for tourists seeking outdoor activity, from hunting and fishing to skiing and snowmobiling, in perfect contrast with sunny southern states like Florida where many elderly citizens split their time. It's your classic small town. Everyone has a reason to be there, or they’ve yet to find a reason to leave. Everyone one calls the Cadillac Party Lounge the “Party Bar”, and I’ve yet to hear a good reason why. Everyone knows everyone, and if they don’t, they know someone who does. Everyone supports the football and basketball teams, even the band! Everyone has their niche, their people, and stories to boot. And if there’s one story with which every Cadillac citizen might just be familiar, it’s this: In 1975, local man of interest Jim Neff lured one of America’s most rockin’ bands to Cadillac High. In 1973, Cadillac fit that same description, but KISS was just becoming the legendary rock act we know today. “Act” is the keyword, as the upstart New Yorkers had yet to make it on the radio. Their success to that point was only measurable in the reactions of small club crowds to the antics of the young, ambitious performers. With a sound that abided timidly by the 70s rock n roll formula - rolling bass and a lead guitar repeating a simple interlocking melody that creates a bed on top of the stagnant time-keeping drums for lead singer Gene Simmons to holler atop – the group had a hard time separating itself from the heaps of rock records flying off shelves around the country. It was the live shows that kept KISS afloat, but as 1975 rolled around, two years of touring landed the band’s profits in close proximity to the dreaded red line. They were entertaining, building a reputation and spreading the name, but they simply weren’t making money. Casablanca Records wasn’t making any money either. So, with their patience dwindling and their backs on the wall, the label turned an irritable ear to its floundering on-stage phenoms. KISS had one unanimous request: find a way to recreate the excitement of their performances for a radio audience. Their music always had a live-ish quality to it anyhow, so how could they give it the extra nudge needed to reach a national spotlight? At the same time, in northern Michigan, the Cadillac Viking football team was facing similar struggles. With a roster that had proven talented in the past, head coach Dave Brines (and assistant Jim Neff) were searching with increasing desperation for the enthusiasm and results they knew their boys were capable of supplying. They knew their team had heart and talent but were still waiting for the results of that winning combination to manifest in front of the crowd, and more importantly, against the opposition. The answer came from two of rock’s most essential cities (and New Jersey). On September 10, 1975, KISS released their first gold record, Alive! Gathered from concerts in Wildwood, NJ, Cleveland and of course, Detroit, the LP featured 16 tracks from their first two studio albums performed in front of the audiences they moved so well. Alive! became both the band and the label’s saving grace – a gimmick turned gold – but to a group of high school students 3/4 hours north of “Detroit Rock City,” it soon meant even more. Jim Neff is a modest expert of many things, one of which is rock music. He was early on KISS – a fan before it was cool – and when they released the comparably superb ‘double-live record’ (as its affectionately known) he knew it was the right medicine to cure his team’s case of late-Autumn-blooming. Neff brought a speaker into the locker room in an era where such displays of fun were seldom welcomed into sports environments. He cranked up “Rock And Roll All Nite,” let the kids cut loose, and sparked a new era of winning ways. It wasn’t long before the Vikings began taking the field in KISS makeup and stringing together wins. Word was spreading, and Coach Neff acted on an instinct to further capitalize on the phenomenon. He drafted a letter to KISS management explaining the Vikings’ good fortune, complete with something to sign and this seed to plant: would the band make a visit to the school? Whether it was amusement, boredom or genuinely wholesome interest, nobody is quite sure, but one thing is certain about KISS’s agreement to visit Cadillac in 1975 – it was the band members themselves who most wanted to come. Less than a month after the release of their flagship record, the band was in Kalamazoo, MI for a show, and that weekend became the clear landing spot for KISS in Cadillac. The quick appearance quickly sprawled into a full day’s event due to its collision with the high school’s homecoming. October 8, the day before KISStory was made, Gene Simmons and Ace Frehley recorded a radio interview with local disc-jockey Dale Meyers (who recently released his own account of the events ). In the recording, you can hear the excitement building on both sides of the phone, starstruck thrill emanates from the interviewer and giddy curiosity is evident in each of the interviewees’ answers. The next day, mysterious semi-trucks parked outside the Cadillac High gymnasium. A few hours later, three black limousines rolled up beside the football field as a crowd of students began to gather, the minority of whom actually knew the identities of the limousines’ passengers. Then suddenly, the majority of the Cadillac student body broke into pandemonium as Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Ace Frehley and Peter Criss emerged in full KISS regalia. The rest is history. “To me this is a worldwide event. Like people around the world know about KISS playing here… Anybody who knows anything about KISS knows this is a big deal” said a passing fan at Cadillac’s citywide KISS 50 celebration this October. IMG_2589 The High School sits on the north shore of Lake Cadillac (right) and the downtown area lurks in the trees below the horizon. IMG_2389[1]_edited A shop window displays an array local promo material, an album cover and capturing KISS amongst the Cadillac crowd. IMG_2535 The world's only KISS monument stands beside Cadillac High's since-renovated football feild. IMG_2589 The High School sits on the north shore of Lake Cadillac (right) and the downtown area lurks in the trees below the horizon. 1/6 The aforementioned semi-trucks held KISS’s entire arsenal of touring equipment, speakers, amplifiers, instruments and chords galore. In the number of Jim Neff’s published accounts of the night, he shares an anecdote in which he and a KISS stagehand successfully plug the stage’s main power line into the school’s power system at the alleged risk of full-body electrocution. From that point, things went flawlessly. They rocked that high school gym and delivered countless lifetime memories to the deserving onlookers of Cadillac High. 50 years later, the energy is palpable in the small-town autumn air. The towns central retail tourism strip, Mitchell Street, is servicing an unseasonally bustling crowd of window shoppers – many of which are wearing KISS memorabilia, even makeup. The shops match the shoppers, decked out in KISS-themed decorations, signs, newspaper clippings and yearbook photos. It runs deep, and it’s all love. Traintracks featuring KISS ad. One of many KISS banner pairings Kiss Boulevard Traintracks featuring KISS ad. 1/7 Peopled flocked to Cadillac to watch Mr. Speed (the world’s #1 KISS tribute band) play the high school gym for the KISS 40 celebration (2015). The KISS 50 rendition had the same effect at The Venue, a bar/restaurant on Cadillac’s outskirts with a mid-size enclosed event shed out back and a line stretching across the gravel parking lot on the night of October 11. Every person in attendance was a fan of KISS, Cadillac or both. If you visit Cadillac MI, you’re likely to meet folks who meet those same criteria. The most iconic hair-metal band’s decision to visit a town that shared their positive drive, resulted in a permanent positive change – a bond that lives on musically, interpersonally and in documents like these. Fans fill The Venue's lot IMG_8526 (1) The sun is setting for Mr. Speed KISS 50 @ The Venue Fans fill The Venue's lot 1/3

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.

Even More Gecs (10,000) BY: Ian Sherry 4/1 /23 On March 17, 2023, 100 Gecs released their sophomore album 10,000 Gecs. Following the release of their debut album 1,000 Gecs, the St. Louis native duo, Laura Les and Dylan Brady, has become one of the most polarizing and impactful groups of the last five years. Hyperpop is a genre born from a combination of internet culture, and the mistaken notion that music can’t progress beyond its current stylistic barriers. In many ways it is the Gen Z equivalent of the punk movement of the mid-70s that serves to demolish the assumption that there are no more musical worlds to conquer. The impact of 100 Gecs on their audience is immeasurable, and I suspect their influence will be felt more and more in the mainstream over decades to come because of their impact on the young, underground scene. Despite all of this, 100 Gecs has much to prove entering 2023. Like many of the albums I review, they face numerous questions, but, unlike other reviews, their questions include: Is this real music? Will they use real instruments? And most importantly, what is a gec? Because their first album often sounds like it was composed using a microwave, autotune, amber alerts, and a drum machine, these questions aren’t unreasonable. And while they don’t care much about answering anyone’s questions regarding stylistic choices, 100 Gecs did a good job of cementing themselves as the ambitiously creative musicians that their audience swears by. As a listener it’s easy to dismiss the chaos of 100 Gecs as accidental, but I can assure you it’s a choice. They have a plethora of influences which only became more obvious with this year's release. Being from St. Louis, midwest emo is a natural inspiration for them, but they do a great job of incorporating elements of punk, pop-punk, and ska on this record; and for a group that can be intentionally offensive to the ears on occasion, they incorporate their various influences tastefully and in different ways. For instance “Hollywood Baby” is a straightforward emo-pop song. They enter a genre which suffers from over-replication and put their own spin on it. It’s simple but enjoyable and it was received very well, making it a great choice for one of their leading singles. They also include “Billy Knows Jamie”, a grinding punk song with wailing guitars, a variety of equally intense vocal deliveries, and a death metal break (if death metal can be considered a break) at the end of the song. “Billy Knows Jamie” is a shift in mood and lyrical content as well as music and it showcases their ability to convey emotion even with their unconventional sound. One observation, if not critique, of their first album was their only two moods were ecstatic highs and lows that cried for help. Along with their music, the emotion infused in every song has become more diverse. “Dumbest Girl Alive”, the first song on the album, gives a taste of that emotion. It provides a window into the performer’s struggles with self worth and does so very matter-of-factly. “I'm smarter than I look, I'm the dumbest girl alive”. They aren’t asking for pity, they’re giving an honest assessment of their character, however concerning it may be. 100 Gecs not only makes music young people enjoy, they accurately represent a problem that many internet-era teens struggle with, and they do so on a catchy track. Maybe the catchiest track on the entire album is “Doritos & Fritos”. It is the first taste of the ska on the 2023 record, something they haven’t shown much before but are clearly comfortable executing. It has that signature upbeat baseline of the 90s genre along with verses that flow really well and choruses that are perfectly timed. The guitar solo bridge adds to an already enjoyable song by keeping the energy going while also providing a welcome pause in the vocal action. However, what makes this song great to me, is the attention to detail in the production. Their previous album certainly didn’t lack excitement, but it did fail to provide breathing room in a lot of the tracks. The mixes often blended together because of the countless minute soundbytes mashed into a beat. “Doritos & Fritos” does a great job of using lengthier instrumental clips and an added focus on layering within the mix, to create a really full sound while falling short of overwhelming the listener or spiraling into sonic disorder. This is encouraging as a fan because it shows not only an improvement in skill level, but a willingness to shift their style without conforming or losing their sound. In true 100 Gecs fashion, the most emotionally raw track is called “I Got My Tooth Removed”. It’s a silly fun little song that incorporates the best parts of “Dumbest Girl Alive” and “Doritos & Fritos”, with both masked and forefront emotions to go with an upbeat experimental ska sound. It starts with an emotional, instrumentally stripped down, vocal intro that establishes the conflict (tooth removal) before jumping into the loud ska jam. The pace is fantastic, and once again, their variety of vocal deliveries are essential, along with the horns of the chorus that keep it moving along without becoming repetitive. However, what I like most is the tooth removal narrative. It is a metaphor for the inevitable end to a toxic relationship and they don’t try to hide it. Their choice to design the song how they did reflects the attitude of someone who is hinting at something heavy, but choosing to bury it in favor of positivity. The metaphor is present throughout the song but 100 Gecs' rarely emphasizes their lyrics or vocals, so the narrative can be easily ignored, and that is exactly what they want. 10,000 Gecs is a definite improvement. Despite the success of their debut, they had lots to work on, and that’s what they did. They improved their vocal skill and diversified their deliveries. They employed more airy, smooth production and layering, which made for more palatable sonic highpoints. Their songwriting vastly improved. And, they spread their influences and inspirations over the course of entire songs, instead of a matter of seconds. 100 Gecs, as pioneers of a young genre in need of refining, had a lot of responsibility to deliver in 2023, and even with “Frog On The Floor” (a straight up dumb song) they did. And for those concerned they may have changed too much, allow me to point you in the direction of “757”, “One Million Dollars”, and “mememe”. If it’s not for you that’s understandable, but Gecs will always be Gecs, don’t worry. There’s still room for improvement, and when stacked up against other big-time releases their lack of seriousness on some tracks can hold them back. But their ceiling is higher than they get credit for and I think they proved that this year. 10,000 Gecs is a 7.75/10.