ROCK'S PATH FORWARD BY: Ian Sherry 3/22/2023 HEADLINE: Rock is no longer the most popular genre. I could go on and on about the downward trend of the former super-genre. However, to be prompt I’ll simplify it to this: after being the dominant genre of the 70s and 80s and the 90s to an extent, mainstream rock sat too comfortably headed into the age of computers, autotune, and one-trick production brought on by the 2000s. The result is two decades of uninspired pop-rock (a real and pitiful genre in my opinion) and an experimental rock reaction, which often tries too hard to be different and not enough to be good. I could name a lackluster band like Imagine Dragons here, but I won’t because I’m a nice guy. This is all, of course, generalization, but the rising consensus is that rock is in serious trouble. Everyday the internet's ‘hot takes’ become more condemning towards the genre, with many declaring it dead. These claims gain credibility through validation from well-respected critics like Anthony Fantano. Fantano is not anti-rock, he’s realistic. Not only are these opinions reasonable, they are fairly true. Rock’s days as the number one genre are done for the foreseeable future and for good reason. For a long time rock was associated with pop, but pop is often just a reflection or variation of the most prolific and replicable style of music at the moment. So, with pop shifted in a non-rock direction, rock has become limited by its lack of reputable neighboring genres. However, rock is not dead as a genre, and, while I could point to countless contemporary artists and projects, I choose one man: Jack White. If I could have a conversation with the genre of rock I would request the following: steer away from pop (it will find you), dip into other contemporary genres, and don’t be afraid to draw from wherever you want. In 2022, Jack White did all of that and more. His two albums Fear Of The Dawn and Entering Heaven Alive cover all the bases and showcase his mega-talented studio presence. Between the two of them they display aspects of folk, hip-hop, and a plethora of rock sub-genres; I’ve even picked up on some reggae influence in songs like “Esophobia” and “All Along The Way”. There’s also a wide variety of emotions and themes, something White has employed since his White Stripes’ days. I know that all sounds fantastic, so allow me to elaborate. “Taking Me Back” is the first song on Fear Of The Dawn and “Taking Me Back (Gently)” is the last song on Entering Heaven Alive. Often artists will give you two versions of one song on the same album, with rap you may get a remix or instrumental version and with other genres, artists will often tack on an acoustic version. What White did here is less common. He took the same song lyrics and some of the bones, and stripped everything else, rebuilding it nearly from scratch. The original is a hard rocking loud track that leads into Fear Of The Dawn perfectly. It sets the pace of the album and introduces some of the tools he’ll use throughout it. My favorite is this sputtering guitar that cuts overtop the instrumental intermittently in this song and some others on the album. It seems like his equivalent of a record scratch and it brings energy every time it's used, breaking down layers of instrumentals that would’ve been overly dense otherwise. “Taking Me Back (Gently)” is much simpler. The rhythm is slightly different and the instrumental is more relaxed without killing the energy of the track. While it’s less of a standout in the scope of the entire album, it is a really enjoyable song with an energetic violin and a lengthy instrumental break that entertains and provides breathing room that the original version lacked. By including these two songs, and placing them on either end of the albums, White bookends his 2022 releases and puts an undeniable emphasis on the diversity between the two. He also showcases the kind of energy each album possesses, so if you’re deciding which to listen to first, I would suggest starting with these tracks to help you decide. “I’ve Got You Surrounded (With My Love)” is my pick for the best song on Entering Heaven Alive. It is a fantastic groove that uses a heavy bassline to give the track pace and depth. Over the top, White layers keyboard and a buzzy guitar as well as vocals that sound like they’re in the other room (in a good way). All these elements are mixed perfectly to create a unique atmosphere complete with well timed instrumental breaks. It is a 4:25 minute song that feels like two minutes, which is a great sign. A big reason for that is the song’s structure. There are technically two verses, with only two lines each, and two bridges, as well as several variations on the catchy chorus that works as a transition between unique instrumental breaks. What stands out when listening to these albums is Jack White’s creative abilities in the studio, but “I’ve Got You Surrounded (With My Love)” is a songwriting clinic. One of the biggest complaints about rock recently is its inability, or more accurately, its tendency, not to branch out into other genres. On “Hi-De-Ho”, featuring Q-Tip, White takes that step outside the confines of traditional rock stylings without departing from his aesthetic. The track opens with an impressive intro from that same buzzy electric guitar followed by a sample of Cab Calloway’s “Hi-De-Ho Man”. After about 1:20 of what can only be described as confusion, the baseline drops in and so does Q-Tip. He just flows over the looped baseline while drums roll over the top. Simple, but effective. Then White joins in on the bridge for some moaning vocals, that mainly serves to cut the track before it gets too repetitive, before riding out on the same catchy looped beat. It’s a fun song with lots for a listener to easily unpack, and on top of that, I enjoyed the Q-Tip feature which is frankly unusual. “Into The Twilight” is my favorite song on Fear Of The Dawn. It has the wailing guitar of “Taking Me Back” and the energy of “Hi-De-Ho”. It jumps in with another great baseline, a gentle piano riff, and that same guitar sputter. The vocals are kept to a minimum and the focus is on the rising and falling synths and various soundbytes that White weaves in. Brief samples of The Manhattan Transfer are twisted and woven throughout, being used to cut through the heavy guitar and replace the need for verses or bridges. On the way to the conclusion of the song the entire instrumental is torn down before being built up layer by layer. The chorus repeats one more time and it rides out on what feels like a fun improvised keyboard. But, nothing is improvised in this song. It is perfectly mixed and cut, showing a level of expertise Jack White seems to always have in his back pocket. Listening to an artist like Jack White forces me to understand I belong on this end of the music business. Because, I can’t fathom doing what he does in the studio; a depressing thought that is often washed away immediately by pure sonic pleasure. White, to me, should be the prototype for a genre that desperately needs innovation. His ability to involve traditionally genre-specific techniques without leaving his own stylistic comfort zone might be unique to him, but his willingness to try it shouldn’t be. Rock is not dead, but it needs help. In 2022, whether he meant to or not, Jack White gave the genre what it needed. It’s up to his peers to follow suit.

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.

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.

KID CUDI'S ENTERGALACTIC BY: Ian Sherry 10/12/22 Kid Cudi is a generational artist who has shaped the melodic hip-hop scene of today through his work in the trilogy of Man On The Moon albums and other releases over the last ten years. His newest project, Entergalactic, was released on September 30th in tandem with an animated Netflix series under the same name. The series has been received well by critics thus far while the album brings something different to his discography. The buildup for this dual release was immense. Cudi is an artist who has shaped generations of music listeners and musicians as well. He has saved lives with his relatable commentary on mental health struggles. The world’s number one Kid Cudi fan, Nino Dioso, can attest to this. In his words: “That man literally saved my life”, and “I would die for Scott Mescudi [Kid Cudi]”. Any artist with this kind of impact is bound to have heavily anticipated releases and therefore high expectations. I think Cudi delivered. This isn’t to say he delivered a perfect album – far from it. The high points are impressive, though nothing musically groundbreaking. However, there are some issues. The most glaring is the fact that it feels aimless. Cudi is known for his thematically brilliant albums. This album had a slightly different focus. The only real theme was love and its focus on supporting the animated series falls short. In order to be a chronologically strong album the listener has to understand the full narrative from start to finish. For example, Tyler The Creator’s 2019 experimental and genre-bending release Igor tells a complete story through lyrics and even the feel of the production. Entergalactic doesn’t come close to this level of coherency in its storyline. Kid Cudi also falls prey to the occasional boring song on this album. He has a tendency to overuse his trademarked moaning vocals and lock in on one flow for too long, sometimes an entire song. Both of these can be seen on the song “Can’t Shake Her”. It is repetitive and fails to ever hit the second level it needed to be a widely enjoyable song. It stays in a sort of melancholic rut for the duration of the track and wastes one of the two Ty Dolla $ign features which are at a premium. Songs like “Angel”, “My Drug”, and “New Mode”, all fall in the same category. They show bits of potential at times but ultimately fall flat. Kid Cudi never makes offensively bad songs like other artists, just boring ones. Once he hits his stride though, the good outweighs the bad. The good can be found consistently from the fifth to the tenth track with one or two before and after, however, tracks six through nine are perfect. “Travis Scott would not exist without Kid Cudi” -Nino Dioso. This is not an uncommon opinion, and there is no better example than “In Love”. It has the punchy drums, decisive autotune, rolling synths, and soaring choruses that are responsible for so many of Travis Scott’s hits, except Cudi does it better on this song. It is a fantastic example of how to properly use elements of pop music without selling out to a mainstream sound. Though Travis Scott can come close at times, nobody but Kid Cudi can make a song like this. In that same vein, “Willing To Trust” is another massive success. One of the two singles leading up to the release of Entergalactic, this track features the previously mentioned Ty Dolla $ign, who is known to be one of the best feature artists in the entire music industry. He delivers here. His relaxed yet vulnerable vocals blend perfectly with Cudi’s, and a couple well placed refrains pull the track together into a cohesive and complete Kid Cudi classic. As if these two emotional and vocally elite tracks weren’t enough, Cudi directly follows them with “Can’t Believe It”, featuring 2 Chainz. This song is a big change in tempo from the previous two. Though it poses a slight chronological discrepancy, I can’t complain. Its rolling baseline and higher-paced chorus are a nice change of pace and it leads perfectly into the next song. 2 Chainz delivers one of his signature playfully braggadocious verses to round out “Can’t Believe It”, and just like that it's ready to be sent into any era of Cudi’s music. The hot streak continues into “Livin’ My Truth”. This track, like many of the other successes on this album, feels like a newer spin on a classic Cudi formula. It is a perky beat with a catchy hook and poppy ad-libs. As “Livin My Truth” fades out to a spacy guitar riff, Cudi wraps up what I think might be his strongest four-song stretch on any of his albums. Entergalactic is by far Cudi’s best work of this young decade, though it may not stack up with the first two Man On The Moon albums or the 2018 collaborative album Kids See Ghosts. He put up some of his best solo work since 2010, even if the whole album doesn’t soar to those heights. To me, Entergalactic’s level of creativity falls in the same category as his 2013 project Indicud, but it is much more well-rounded and polished, not quite sinking to the level of Indicud’s weakest moments. Instead, Cudi’s worst efforts on this album just come across as conservative, inoffensive. He doesn’t run into any issues that he hasn’t encountered before other than the clumsy storyline. That said, it isn’t nearly as chronologically inept as fan-favorite albums such as Because The Internet by Childish Gambino. So, clearly, it is possible to make a classic album with a shaky storyline. I didn’t know what to expect heading into this album. I was almost afraid Cudi might start to regress after his 2020 project, which seemed to lack creativity and consistency. He proved me wrong and I’m glad. I didn’t provide a rating for my first review of the year. That is because, frankly, DJ Khaled’s God Did, didn’t deserve a rating. Cudi does. He overcame the oversights in his storyline, as well as some boring songs, by including several classic tracks of different types and a solid crop of songs to support them; all the while staying with himself, for better or for worse. Kid Cudi’s Entergalactic is a 6.25/10.

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

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.

VOIR DIRE : RELEASED By: Ian Sherry 9/11/2023 On August 29th, 2023, Earl Sweatshirt and The Alchemist released their collab album Voir Dire . It features warm, sample-heavy hip-hop production via The Alchemist , and well-written verses by Earl Sweatshirt . With these two, that’s a given. However, Earl’s performances are all delivered with the same monotone cadence, which makes it hard to focus on his lyrical prowess. And, though his beats are catchy, most of them just loop or sustain the same, short-lived groove. It’s an exercise in simplicity. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it doesn’t give me a lot to say. I’m a fan of both artists, I was excited, and now I’m moving on. Voir Dire is a 5/10. Now for the article! Earl and The Alchemist whipped up a cute little album rollout this time around. Voir Dire came complete with internet lore, a strange streaming service, and NFTs! Can you feel my eyes rolling through these words? I get it, it’s just not my thing, and since custom album releases have become all the rage, I figured I’d take a stance. First of all, why? The easiest way to unpack any music industry phenomenon is to take a quick look around. For example, today’s context provides an immediate answer: everyone’s doing it. From Lizzo to Travis Scott , the mainstream has been taken over by album releases becoming a holistic experience. There are different methods, and Voire Dire is one such example. From the artist’s point of view, I can imagine it’s become a necessity to do something special to keep pace with consumer expectations. On top of fulfilling industry norms, it’s a creative and competitive opportunity: integrating personality into one’s music is a skill, and some are more skilled than others. Fortunately for the others, the release itself is a golden opportunity to put your personal spin on your artistic product. For Lizzo that meant a body positive mega-livestream. For Travis Scott, a huge tour complete with theatrical mosh-pitting. The commonality is an artist furthering whatever vibe they want for their album, whether it be positivity for an individual or pure energy for the biggest crowds. On a base level it's fun, and when done correctly, it can elevate a project. Let's not get carried away. Big rollouts set expectations. Regardless of the artist’s intent, everything they do in preparation for releasing an album feeds into the public’s perception and anticipation. Since the public tends to be very perceptive, that means the bigger you make it, the more pressure to deliver. So it better be good. Let’s talk about Donda . Kanye West , who seems to work his way into every article now, announced he’d be releasing the album Donda as an ode to his mother back in 2019. It was delayed and delayed, until its eventual rollout in 2021. That rollout was a failure. West tapped into all the theatrics, bringing out guests, selling tickets, and creating the ultimate spectacle. It was a massive celebration of the music industry superpower that is Kanye West. Once again, the purpose of an album rollout is to further the music’s message and bring the audience in closer before they hear the first note. So, now's a good time to remind you that the album was about Kanye’s mother, Donda West. Donda, not Kanye. Yet, the focus of the album’s content was all over the place, more reminiscent of a DJ Khaled ’s self-indulgent celebration on God Did than an introspective, vulnerable record like Jay-Z ’s 4:44 . Kanye packed the tracklist, loaded it with features, and his rollout mirrored that attitude: a celebration of himself packaged under his late mother’s name. Then, if his motives and focus weren’t already in question, he released Donda 2. The follow-up’s rollout was even more unique. In a move against the profit motivated industry executives, West released the literally incomplete album on the Stem Player in an effort to make money his own way. It’s always hard to say what West’s intentions are, but it seems like his mother’s name should’ve been kept separate. This is not artistic vision, it’s greed. As we delve further into the culture of the modern album release, I’m hopeful that artists can be more mindful and avoid crossing that line. The overall approach must stay on message and focus on the audience’s ability to receive it. Voir Dire again. Speaking of focus, let’s return to the Voir Dire . At first this album was an internet rumor. Then it was announced. And finally it became a complete rollout experience experience. As a fan of the two collaborators, I was excited that the album dropped without too long of a wait; that is, no advance release date was posted, a la Donda . Beyond that, their strategy provided anticipating fans with an opportunity to experience the content further through write-ups and NFTs. Did it pique my interest? Not especially. But their approach has merit, and I’m sure it’s resonating with the right audience. Voir Dire ’s release is a 8.5/10.

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

Tabs On Tigers: Harris Oversleeps Alarm 8/1/2025 BY: IAN SHERRY The trade deadline was July 31st, and in a display of confident mediocrity, the Detroit Tigers addressed just one aspect of a battered playoff-bound roster. Tabs On Tigers Vol. 4 Well, it was bound to happen. Our first-place Tigers hit a rough patch. It has been 10 years since the Tigers had more than 2 all-star players, which makes it laughably ironic that the moment Detroit secured 7 (yes the number seven) all-stars, their skid began. Sparked by the consecutive shellings of Tigers rotational leaders Tarik Skubal and Casey Mize (both named all-stars), the team’s tailspin ran into the break and only picked up speed through a shoddy ASG showing and 3 series losses to begin the second half (2-9). This properly grateful fanbase was patient, though the grouchiness was palpable in public spaces across the city (especially National Coney Island). But soon, the elusive Kerry Carpenter returned to the lineup, Riley Greene shaved his beard, and the Tigers were back. Their dominant sweep of Arizona was fueled by nonstop touching of Greene’s new stache, a big game from the sorely missed Kerry Bonds, good team pitching, and a dazzling bat retrieval by the American League’s premier bat-boy, Frankie Boyle. Nothing more satisfying than a righted ship – a return to form. These Tigers have a secret formula. AJ Hinch’s mad-scientist managerial style took tireless, borderline excessive balancing across several years to take root, but they’re dug in now, and it’s the league’s puzzle to solve. Puzzle: Detroit’s roster continues to fit that description all too well. Upon the gracious return of Carpenter, Reese Olson’s season ended with a shoulder strain and Parker Meadows hit the IL with a hamstring injury (which again calls into question the necessity of the hamstring – domestic pigs come stringless and sustain far fewer injuries). To his credit, Scott Harris immediately addressed the Olson shaped hole in the starting rotation, squishing the 6’-4”, 29-year-old Chris Paddack into his place. A day before the trade deadline, the former Twin took the mound to seal a series sweep with 6 great innings where he showed off a Chris Fetter-friendly arsenal, filling the strike zone with a good changeup, some loopy curveballs, and a mid-90s fastball with a bit of run. However, the puzzle is not yet complete. Heading into the Trade Deadline, The Tigers had undeniable needs, and as the dust settled at 8 PM on July 31st, those needs are still standing. First, the average age of the Tigers’ starting lineup falls under 30, and their playoff experience, aside from Javy Baez, Gleyber Torres, and Matt Vierling, is limited to their brief visit last season. And, while the slugging took a much-needed jump this season, teamwide, the individual power threats are still limited in stock and consistency. The allegedly aggressive pursuit of Alex Bregman this past offseason proves an awareness of this issue, and the submissively-swept Diamondbacks had the solution. Over the past 5 years, few players have hit more home runs than the renowned yet underrated Eugenio Suarez. The former Tigers prospect would’ve been an iron-clad edition to the Tigers patchwork infield at the hot corner, but Scott Harris wasn’t able to move Detroit past the ‘name-in-a-hat-phase’ of trade discussions, and Suarez escaped to Seattle (along with my dreams of an additional slugger). Second, the Tigers feature zero 100+ MPH arms in their bullpen, and just one on the whole roster in the reigning Cy Young winner. In today’s MLB, particularly against amped-up playoff competition, well-located pitches and matchup-seeking only go so far against pro scouting reports and hitters who’ve faced 90+ MPH pitching since high school. Will Vest is the Tigers’ hardest chucker and the closest thing to a closer Hinch’s play-it-by-ear bullpen strategy will concede. Vest has generally delivered on his end of the bargain this season, but, his go-to flat-flying 97 MPH fastball is a caliber bellow the weaponry of a Major League closer. It’s not about velocity, it’s about stuff, and the Tigers bullpen doesn’t have much. Still. In a series of conservative moves, Harris compiled a scrapheap of arms who may not have earned roster spots on their respective franchises next season. Paul Sewald is a former SEA/ARI closer who found open pasture in Cleveland this season and settled comfortably on the IL at the age of 35, where he’ll remain for Detroit. Rafael Montero is a journeyman reliever, most recently of Atlanta, whose 5.40 is a reflection of his lacking control. The 11-year vet keeps securing roster spots because of his swing and miss upside, but has only mustered 2 good complete seasons to date. Charlie Morton is a well-respected and well-loved starter who, at the age of 41, has posted a meager 5.42 ERA so far this year. While this season hasn’t been his strongest by any means (due in large part to his playing for Baltimore), and the end may be near for Uncle Chuck, his is a lefty who may offer Hinch’s bullpen flexibility in the forecasted playoff run. Kyle Finnegan rounds out Detroit’s additions. The former Nationals closer is having the worst year of his career with a 4.38 ERA, and while his previous seasons imply the ability to perform closer to a 3.50 ERA, he’s always allowed an unintimidating .250 BAA – much too high for a closer. Scott Harris had a big opportunity last month: to not only strengthen his roster for a deep run this season but stamp his name on some of the Tigers’ recent success. He proved the opposite. AJ Hinch is the leader of this organization. His idiosyncratic strategies and ability to get the most out of a utility roster have defined this new brand of Tigers baseball, and while Harris has been a stellar collaborator, no-doubt, he’s failed to provide any significant improvements to this savantly reorganized roster. Significant improvements were proven available. Suarez could’ve taken a short walk from dugout to dugout. Instead, he’s trekking to Seattle. As far as big-name relievers go, Mason Miller, Ryan Helsley, Jhoan Duran, David Bednar, Camillo Doval, Dustin May, and Griffin Jax all moved to towns not named Detroit. The silver lining lies in the Tigers’ undamaged farm system, but the solvable challenges this young, injury-riddled squad may face in October outweigh that moral victory. If I had to sum up this Deadline performance in a word? Flop.

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

KID CUDI'S ENTERGALACTIC BY: Ian Sherry 10/12/22 Kid Cudi is a generational artist who has shaped the melodic hip-hop scene of today through his work in the trilogy of Man On The Moon albums and other releases over the last ten years. His newest project, Entergalactic, was released on September 30th in tandem with an animated Netflix series under the same name. The series has been received well by critics thus far while the album brings something different to his discography. The buildup for this dual release was immense. Cudi is an artist who has shaped generations of music listeners and musicians as well. He has saved lives with his relatable commentary on mental health struggles. The world’s number one Kid Cudi fan, Nino Dioso, can attest to this. In his words: “That man literally saved my life”, and “I would die for Scott Mescudi [Kid Cudi]”. Any artist with this kind of impact is bound to have heavily anticipated releases and therefore high expectations. I think Cudi delivered. This isn’t to say he delivered a perfect album – far from it. The high points are impressive, though nothing musically groundbreaking. However, there are some issues. The most glaring is the fact that it feels aimless. Cudi is known for his thematically brilliant albums. This album had a slightly different focus. The only real theme was love and its focus on supporting the animated series falls short. In order to be a chronologically strong album the listener has to understand the full narrative from start to finish. For example, Tyler The Creator’s 2019 experimental and genre-bending release Igor tells a complete story through lyrics and even the feel of the production. Entergalactic doesn’t come close to this level of coherency in its storyline. Kid Cudi also falls prey to the occasional boring song on this album. He has a tendency to overuse his trademarked moaning vocals and lock in on one flow for too long, sometimes an entire song. Both of these can be seen on the song “Can’t Shake Her”. It is repetitive and fails to ever hit the second level it needed to be a widely enjoyable song. It stays in a sort of melancholic rut for the duration of the track and wastes one of the two Ty Dolla $ign features which are at a premium. Songs like “Angel”, “My Drug”, and “New Mode”, all fall in the same category. They show bits of potential at times but ultimately fall flat. Kid Cudi never makes offensively bad songs like other artists, just boring ones. Once he hits his stride though, the good outweighs the bad. The good can be found consistently from the fifth to the tenth track with one or two before and after, however, tracks six through nine are perfect. “Travis Scott would not exist without Kid Cudi” -Nino Dioso. This is not an uncommon opinion, and there is no better example than “In Love”. It has the punchy drums, decisive autotune, rolling synths, and soaring choruses that are responsible for so many of Travis Scott’s hits, except Cudi does it better on this song. It is a fantastic example of how to properly use elements of pop music without selling out to a mainstream sound. Though Travis Scott can come close at times, nobody but Kid Cudi can make a song like this. In that same vein, “Willing To Trust” is another massive success. One of the two singles leading up to the release of Entergalactic, this track features the previously mentioned Ty Dolla $ign, who is known to be one of the best feature artists in the entire music industry. He delivers here. His relaxed yet vulnerable vocals blend perfectly with Cudi’s, and a couple well placed refrains pull the track together into a cohesive and complete Kid Cudi classic. As if these two emotional and vocally elite tracks weren’t enough, Cudi directly follows them with “Can’t Believe It”, featuring 2 Chainz. This song is a big change in tempo from the previous two. Though it poses a slight chronological discrepancy, I can’t complain. Its rolling baseline and higher-paced chorus are a nice change of pace and it leads perfectly into the next song. 2 Chainz delivers one of his signature playfully braggadocious verses to round out “Can’t Believe It”, and just like that it's ready to be sent into any era of Cudi’s music. The hot streak continues into “Livin’ My Truth”. This track, like many of the other successes on this album, feels like a newer spin on a classic Cudi formula. It is a perky beat with a catchy hook and poppy ad-libs. As “Livin My Truth” fades out to a spacy guitar riff, Cudi wraps up what I think might be his strongest four-song stretch on any of his albums. Entergalactic is by far Cudi’s best work of this young decade, though it may not stack up with the first two Man On The Moon albums or the 2018 collaborative album Kids See Ghosts. He put up some of his best solo work since 2010, even if the whole album doesn’t soar to those heights. To me, Entergalactic’s level of creativity falls in the same category as his 2013 project Indicud, but it is much more well-rounded and polished, not quite sinking to the level of Indicud’s weakest moments. Instead, Cudi’s worst efforts on this album just come across as conservative, inoffensive. He doesn’t run into any issues that he hasn’t encountered before other than the clumsy storyline. That said, it isn’t nearly as chronologically inept as fan-favorite albums such as Because The Internet by Childish Gambino. So, clearly, it is possible to make a classic album with a shaky storyline. I didn’t know what to expect heading into this album. I was almost afraid Cudi might start to regress after his 2020 project, which seemed to lack creativity and consistency. He proved me wrong and I’m glad. I didn’t provide a rating for my first review of the year. That is because, frankly, DJ Khaled’s God Did, didn’t deserve a rating. Cudi does. He overcame the oversights in his storyline, as well as some boring songs, by including several classic tracks of different types and a solid crop of songs to support them; all the while staying with himself, for better or for worse. Kid Cudi’s Entergalactic is a 6.25/10.

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