The Hunting Party 2/10/2025 BY: IAN SHERRY The Hunting Party premiered February 4, 2024, on NBC. The sole focus of network television, perhaps more than any other form of media, is to secure viewership. Each and every episode must supply something that brings the audience back the next week, which places a unique and permanently immediate sense of pressure on everyone involved. That pressure begins the moment the creators cross the threshold from idea to product and doesn’t cease until the show itself does. Network television’s latest million-dollar idea sprung from the mind of JJ Bailey. Bailey has experience with the pressures of Network show-biz, having had Echo, his only prior show, canceled after the pilot. The Hunting Party, in many ways, is a reflection of his learned approach to the genre. We can start with the premise. An unknown number of assumed-dead serial killers escape from a massive CIA-run subterranean prison via explosion. Now that’s a headline, albeit one that’s kept from the fictional public. The result of that jailbreak, therefore, is a technically unlimited (but more like unspecified) number of future episode plots. In that sense, The Hunting Party is pure genius. That, however, is not the only sense I care about. One of the givens of network television, in my eyes, has always been the limited quality of the art itself. There is a definite standard that this meticulously analyzed audience is known to expect. Falling short of that standard in any way, whether it be writing, acting, set design, or one of the many other requirements of TV production, would likely be received as a critical error. However, that standard is so demanding, there are so many boxes to check, that it encourages a sort of ‘good enough’ attitude, rather than the perfection in a vacuum that an alternatively produced show might aim for. The Hunting Party, for all its broad-stroke-strengths, is no exception to the phenomenon above. If you watched the promos, you’d be fooled into thinking Bex, played by Melissa Roxburgh, is the star of the show. In reality, the star is the plot. For instance, Bex goes from an FBI profiler posted in a casino (the FBI’s doghouse) to lead profiler in the most crucial multi-manhunt in the country’s history before the first commercial break. If that seems sudden, overly convenient, or even unrealistic to you, you’re not alone. But, that fast, loose, fairytale style was a conscious choice - one that, while limiting to the actors as they come across stiff and defined by their function, allowed for the writers to work in a borderline ludicrous number of plot twists, eureka moments, and cliff hangers in place of thoughtful, time-consuming small-talk or character definition. JJ Bailey’s masterpiece is not, nor will it be, a show defined by its acting, and certainly not by its writing, but neither is the genre. Network television is defined by ambition (I should know I watched 30 Rock). And while a show like The Hunting Party simply cannot compare to a show like 30 Rock in the classic critical categories, it just delivered perhaps the most ridiculously plot-packed pilot episode I’ve ever seen. That kind of unchecked creativity and ambition, at the end of the day, is what brings audiences back, and despite the various surface-level limitations I can’t help but consider myself a part of this audience. I will be back tonight for more.

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.

Coverage Vol. 3 9/9/24 BY: IAN SHERRY On Instagram it's acceptable, trendy even, to take a sound from another video then make a video of your own, with your own message/joke using the same sound in the background. That format falls into the ‘recycled mindless internet crap’ category, but I did indeed see a funny one once. The ‘sound’, which I’m sure has been used to death in a variety of fashions since the original video, is a recording of a guy who mistakenly begins to rap Kendrick Lamar’s “Poetic Justice” over Janet Jackson’s “Any Time, Any Place” . The first samples the later, so it's an easy mistake to make, but he was immediately scolded by a friend who was trying to enjoy his contemporary oldies. In my opinion anyone who leans towards Lamar’s recycled and remixed version of Jackson’s classic has lost their damn mind, but I can identify with the mistake. Just this morning I was listening to my very own oldies playlist, and as it finished and Spotify took over the track selection, I immediately recognized Jaheim’s “Put That Woman First” . One of the best songs by one of the best voices of 2000s r&b, I was initially happy to hear it play, but realized not too far in that this was a different song, likely the original. I was right, but the two versions are so similar at points, both lyrically and in the instrumental hook, that I couldn’t immediately decipher if it was a cover or a very thorough sample-job. It turns out William Bell’s “I Forgot To Be Your Lover” is indeed a completely different song, and while I prefer the revamped version by my favorite golden-toned thug with a heart, there are quite a few strong renditions of the original track. Let’s dive in and crown a champ. Welcome to Coverage 3. Honorable Mentions AL KOOPER, 1976 Al is butt naked on this album cover and he delivers the weakest, most vocally and instrumentally thin rendition to boot. Yikes. THE REVELATION, TRE WILLIAMS 2012 This supporting track for Wu-Tang Clan’s foray into the world of martial arts movies leads the pack in production quality and includes a solid guitar-forward bridge, but the vocal performance leaves something to be desired, often failing to stay within the instrumental framework of the song. TOMMY TATE, 1989 I feel bad that Tommy can’t climb any higher (he looks awfully friendly), but his well-executed straightforward version doesn’t surpass the original in any particular way. WILLIAM BELL, 1968 Bell wrote and performed a beautiful song. It was safe, simple and powerful, but its simplicity lent itself to improvement and that’s the only reason he falls outside the top four. That being said, this version remains the standard. ROBERT CRAY, 2005 Cray is one of my all-time favorites, but just like Blood Sweat & Tears missing out on the last coverage, Cray didn’t do quite enough with his version. However, his always steely guitar has a different warmth to it on this track, making it worth a listen. THE MAD LADS, 1973 The Mad Lads gave the most ingenuitive vocal performances of the bunch. Their foursome added a 60/70s Temptations-esque spin to the track, and if it had actually been The Temptations it would’ve cracked the top spot, but it just wasn’t. NUMBER FOUR THE BLACK KEYS, 2024 Admittedly I was torn between this version and the last. Both reinvented the song vocally, but The Black Keys frontman Dan Auerbach’s twist is more in the cadence than the vocal sequencing. As a result, he better replicates the familiar feel of the time-honored original. There are times he delivers a line, or note, down when I want it up or vice-versa, but those are issues of taste and preference. The key, (get it?) is that he maintains the emotional feel the track is intended to deliver, and he does so as well as nearly anyone else. I am a fan of Auerbach’s solo work, and his stylistic versatility combined with the adaptability of his partner Patrick Carney make this modern rock-tinged edition of Bell’s classic a resounding success. NUMBER THREE GEORGE FAITH, 1978 I wouldn’t have imagined a reggae arrangement of this song, but it turned out to be a stroke of genius. The similarities between reggae and soul lie in their deep lineage and aged variety; as a result, the song makes a pretty smooth adaptation between the Black American ballad and this heartfelt reggae version. George Faith floats with restraint over an energized reggae pace, guiding a song that could’ve lost its original intention in the right direction. By holding back and letting the echoed production swirl around his vocals, a slight discrepancy in pace becomes clear between his words and the music flowing around him, reminding the listener of the melancholy cry the song was designed to simulate. It may not be the most true-to-form version, but it is a creatively gutsy reimagination of a soul song that resulted in an undeniably well-executed reggae song. NUMBER TWO BILLY IDOL- "TO BE A LOVER", 1986 Because of the different title and overall ‘Billy Idolness’ of this song it’s not completely recognizable, but this highest charting version of “I Forgot To Be Your Lover” is indeed a straight cover. Idol, who could not be bothered to bend to the song’s original form (or title), also recognized what he could do with it. He nearly doubles the length, adding air to the structure, high-energy instrumental portions, a confident vocal performance, and an entirely different attitude. The track ramps up quickly with true rock & roll style, the bounciness of the 80s, and the improvisational ability of a great performer, before eventually concluding just after the best guitar performance on any of the versions. It was a true pop/rock blowout of the words that originally sat on the paper, and it was done to near perfection. NUMBER ONE BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN, SAM MOORE, 2022 That’s Sam Moore of Sam & Dave , in 2022, at age 86, singing beautifully beside Bruce Springsteen. This is absolutely the best version of the original imagination William Bell had in 1968. It has every ounce of class and quality the original put on display, but with even more soul. Moore opens their rendition in his aged yet unwavering voice, ranging up and down subtly, filling the speakers for the bigger lines and finessing his way through others. He sings as strong as ever and with enough emotion to match his partner’s fanfare. Springsteen has always had a very genuine tone to his confident, even overbearing vocal persona, and on this track he lets it take the forefront. He backs Moore on the chorus, bolstering and energizing the tune as they approach the handoff. Then with the instrumentation of prime Detroit soul and the audio equipment of a 2022 Springsteen contingent, the energy elevates through The Boss’s verse, and the well-oiled veteran duet finishes off my very favorite version of “I Forgot To Be Your Lover”. Listen to Jaheim's "Put That Woman First" and "Finding My Way Back" for some CG Xtra Credit.

Flowers By Ian Sherry 7/16/2025 Durand Jones & The Indications are a staple in contemporary soul, and Flowers is exactly as good as it should be. Along with Thee Sacred Souls , Durand Jones & The Indications are leading a small-but-steady wave of old-school soul that began rolling at the end of last decade. Composed of the excellent dual vocalists Durand Jones and Aaron Frazier, plus the band they formed in college, The Indications have certainty in their musical identity, given their control over its development and a keen awareness of their collective comfort zone. That doesn’t guarantee a successful project though - the next step is always the trickiest. Their last effort, Private Space (21) , is proof of that. Feeling the need to branch out stylistically, more prominently feature Aaron Frazier, and cover a variety of other bases, The Indications produced a solid record, but not their most cohesive effort. Since then, Durand Jones got a load of personal material out on Wait Til I Get Over (23) , and Aaron Frazier released his second solo project last year. The healthy relationship they’ve curated as co-creatives is richly evident in the band’s re-amped fusion this time around. Flowers ’ opening grooves aren’t standouts, but they establish the gentle trotting soul sound that became this record’s sweetspot. The fifth track, “Flower Moon,” is the best example of the initial safety-net-soul tunes, but the following “Really Wanna Be With You” is where the record takes off. Track 6 marks the album’s first noticeably gutsy undertaking. Staying within the already-established feel, The Indications began to focus on their more elaborate structural ambitions. Jones and co. are no strangers to a pre-chorus (or drawn-out songs), but this song features a sizable pre-chorus-chorus combo on two separate occasions in addition to a few strong verses. That kind of macho songwriting is very reminiscent of soul’s prime – but one name in particular springs to mind. If Durand Jones wasn’t intentionally channeling Isaac Hayes on this churning soul tune, Ike’s spirit was working through him. While The Indications don’t possess the firepower of a prime Memphis soul section, they clearly understood the assignment and with Jones pushing his vocal limits as the song’s frontman, the result is a standout track. Now Flowers is rolling. The album’s 7th track is the pinnacle of The Indication’s sound to date. “Been So Long” m akes excellent use of all the tools at the band’s disposal. Aaron Frazier is listed as the league vocalist, fitting for the songs initially dreamy feel. As the song progresses, however, Frazier fades more frequently into a host of mellow voices. That communal feel creeps up on the listener throughout the song, removing the focus from the primary vocalist and spreading it across all aspects of the music, from the subtly growing instrumentals to the lyrics of the 3rd and 4th verse (which are by far the catchiest on the album). Then, all too soon, the 3:16 has elapsed This band has a habit of getting stronger as they go. The balance between Frazier and Jones, which they wrestled with last album, has never been a combative issue to my knowledge, just a good problem to have when it comes to making cohesive creative music. The tentative middle ground between the two talented vocalists is an easy place to settle when it comes to using both to the best of their abilities; this album’s first 5 songs are evidence of that. However, as Durand Jones & The Indications dug deeper conceptually on the back stretch of the LP, the 2 talents began to find their perfect balance. Following the feel-good track 7, Aaron Frazier delivers a spot-on Smokey-like soul performance on “Everything.” Officially swapping slappers, Jones responds with a classic Indications-style socially conscious anthem in “Rust and Steel.” From there, Frazier and Jones share the performative load with ease, seamlessly combining efforts on the rangy soul track “If Not For Love” (which comes complete with a sick sax solo) and the well-placed closing track “Without You” . Flowers has left me with very few complaints, and believe it or not, I love not complaining! It was clear from start to finish that Durand Jones & The Indications had a firm grasp on their strengths, an awareness of potential weakness, and a concentrated will to create a product with those awarenesses in mind. The band’s muted sonic palate was a perfect match for all the album’s undertakings, providing the old-school feel and preventing the band from feeling thin in comparison to their soul predecessors. The songs feel intentionally arranged, and none are worth skipping. It’s an oh-so-satisfyingly complete album, and even without the old-school style, that makes this record a classic. Flowers is a 9.2.

THE GYRE "THE SECOND COMING" T urning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight; somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be bor n? -William Butler Yeats THE GYRE The dictionary would have you pronounce gyre with a soft g (/ˈjī(ə)r/ ). However, William Butler Yeats is a large part of our inspiration, and he used the hard g. So, here at The Culture Gyre, we say it correctly, with the hard g. Yeats' Gyre is a pair of vortexes facing into one another. It is a model that is naturally applicable to human nature, and therefore it perfectly fits many patterns through human history, and more specifically, culture. It could be an entire species, a society, an empire, a culture, or simply an idea; but if it runs its course and naturally cycles into its successor (ie. Romanticism, Modernism, Post-Modernism), it likely fits the model. It all starts at a point. An artistic era for instance, starts with one key ideological or stylistic difference that sets it apart. As it gains popularity and success, it grows and evolves (the vortex widens). The inevitable result is a point in which it no longer reflects the original intention or concept. At this point the vortex hits the open end, but, out of the death of an era, a new starting point is born. A new idea or group of people that begins the cycle over again. Yeats saw it in his day. He could feel the end of an era coming in "The Second Coming" . We have a responsibility, not only prepare, accept, and participate in culture shifts, but to appreciate their current state while we're in them. As a culture appreciation page, we aim to appreciate, participate in, and comment on the culture we live in. We hope you join us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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