PUTTING YOU ON THREE BY: Ian Sherry 5/22/2023 For music fans, there is no better feeling than discovering a new artist. Whether it’s a sleepless 2:00 AM deepdive, the opener that outperformed the band you actually came to see, or you decided (at risk of being lame) to finally listen to the Beatles, musical discovery is an unmatched feeling. This year has been kind to me thus far, so to celebrate I’d like to share my three favorite “underground” discoveries. In order of monthly listeners on Spotify, here are my three. They are all active artists who have lots of potential and could use your help, so if my descriptions appeal to you please check them out. Elijah Landours Technical Juggernaut 2,135 Monthly Listeners Though he has the least number of streams of these three talented artists, Elijah Landours may be the most polished. The Indianapolis rapper only has one album out on streaming services to go with several singles, yet his strengths are clear in this admittedly brief discography. Landours has a style. A groundbreaking one? No, but it’s consistent, recognizable, and entertaining. He does things in his music that many world-famous artists still fail to grasp. The first aspect of Landours’ musical repertoire is his sampling instincts. He uses them as frequently as anyone else, but he is so meaningful. A tendency of big money rap projects recently is over-sampling. It isn’t necessarily a negative, meaning an extra sample may not hurt the song. But, the purpose of introducing someone else’s work into yours is to pay homage and create a sound you wouldn’t have otherwise. That’s what he does. “PROPANE” is a good example off the 2022 project N/A . It makes use of a straight Marvin Gaye sample, but I don’t want a lawsuit so I’ll talk about “REVENGE FOR LOST TIME”. Also off N /A, he opens with a silly audio clip before introducing the faded and looped sample with distorted vocals and trumpet run. He then lays a simple drum machine and base hits over the top. He leaves the sample quietly underneath and brings it up over the top on occasion to add flavor to the heavyweight rhythm. Landours’ flow rides over the top of his most dense soundscape for one of his best songs, despite a feature I could take or leave. This leads me to Landours’ secret sauce. He has an uncanny ability to work over the top of his instrumentals. This is that polish coming into play again. No matter the speed of the beat, he is able to pace himself and dictate the energy of the song. Many artists have a tendency to try to be on the same pace as the beat, Landours’ knows better. It’s especially evident in some of his hooks. “MYSELF” and “MYLES AWAY” are his two most popular songs and for good reason. He is able to accelerate in and out of his verses to seamlessly shift the tone of the song. Both songs have sample-based beats which the hooks match in pace. They then make swift shifts into higher energy and pace on the verses. This allows him to use simple beats to create a comfortable groove for the listener because he provides all the necessary flavor in his delivery. Elijah Landours is a technical beast with an ear for beats and a lot to say. His execution comes off as relentless and sincere. Oftentimes I find myself imagining what artists could feature on his projects, from Black Thought to Denzel Curry. His soul flips and lyrical prowess are on the level of today’s best and brightest and his more unique strengths are a level above that. Elijah Landours is the real deal, he is ready, he just needs you to listen. https://unitedmasters.com/elijah-landours Ally Evenson Narrative Weaver 21,885 Monthly Listeners Disclaimer: Ally Evenson is Detroit based, so I may be biased. Her discography, while it may be the smallest on the list with one EP and five singles, has a promising level of diversity. She has a good grasp of Pop as a genre and its ability to bridge stylistic gaps while maintaining one sound and stylistic label. Not that labels matter, but within pop she’s given herself the ability to grow under one roof (and within one algorithm) while showing off her versatility and trying new things. When I listen to Evenson, her wide range of influences and natural musical instincts are clear, making a trip through her discography very rewarding for new listeners. Evenson’s recent singles have been most successful in terms of streaming, signaling positive growth, but her 2020 EP Not So Pretty gives what I consider the most essential taste of her abilities. Her singing performances are solid all the way through, nailing the sad-girl pop aesthetic with vocals that border on whining but settle in a genuinely vulnerable place. The first three songs “Not So Pretty”, “Why Don’t You Call Me Anymore?”, and “Burning Room” all lean into that same style. Their lyrics and song structure are impressive as she is able to change direction without any major shifts in composition or delivery. They move along and keep the listener tied into their easy to swallow narratives. Admittedly, the fourth song “More of a Happiness” sticks out in an otherwise uniform release, and though it's out of place, it may be the strongest track. The best way to describe it, in my mind, is a beach song. Washy guitars, an upbeat rhythm, and smooth vocals that feel like one continuous chorus, it’s a welcome change in direction. It stands as proof that she’s a good collaborator (with Katrine Noël in this case), and a reminder that Evenson knows her stuff, making it a perfect interjection for an early-career release. I’d wager the biggest reason for Ally Evenson’s growth as of late is her honing in on a consistent signature sound. That creativity is still present, but her 2022 singles feel like a good indication of her future direction. Fairly simple strong structure, often building from a simple acoustic guitar to more heavily layered high points, goes with her ability to build tension with her vocals. “Bite My Tongue” is a great example. She remembers her way through a dead relationship, attempting to hold back negativity towards the person in question, only to have it boil over. Inevitably she’s forced to face the fact that she missed the chance to say what she needed to. She knows how to write a song and paint a picture. Whether it's through lyrical expressions of pain like on “I Can’t Feel (My Body)” or “Bite My Tongue”, a well placed audio clip like on “Good Morning, Al”, or just a vibe like “More of a Happiness”, she has command. Evenson is a creative and a student of the music game, and those ingredients are exciting to say the least. Her continued journey towards an easily recognizable sound is key, and her growth in streaming number will only encourage it. I am looking forward to Evenson's 2023 releases, and I hope you'll join me on the lookout. https://linktr.ee/allyevenson Gretel Hänlyn Musical Swiss Army Knife 165,440 Monthly Listeners London is one of the most unique and diverse cities in the world. This goes for music as much as anything else, and Gretel Hänlyn is proof of that. Her sound is unique and I believe her ceiling is the highest of these three artists. She has two EPs out on streaming services, and while they are wildly different from one another, her voice and personality are true constants between them. Hänlyn seems to be executing her visions on a near expert level and her creative ambitions and talent will carry her far. Gretel Hänlyn’s never-ending appeal begins with her voice. Her tone and versatility cannot be taught. Though it's hard to conclusively say where an artist feels strongest, Hänlyn seems to thrive singing in her naturally deep voice which she can pitch up or down. She doesn’t need to throw her voice at all to hit the notes she desires on a given song. This is something that many incredible vocalists, Prince for example, aren’t fortunate enough to have been born with. They may be able to hit notes with added concentration and polish, but Gretel can do it without a second thought. While the ability to range up and down without any significant heightened focus may seem like more of a convenience than an advantage, that’s not the case. In fact, I think it’s a big reason she is such a dynamic artist. It gives Hänlyn the ability to focus on supplying her performances with emotion, creating unique melodies, keeping pace, and most importantly, entertaining. Like I briefly mentioned, her two releases are much different from one another, however, they are anything but singularly focused. The 2022 Slugeye is a 20 minute package of vividly heartfelt songs, indie-pop jams and takeaways from each track. It showcases her ability to elevate any song with a great chorus, sing a verse in any tone, and keep the audience off balance yet captivated. For promptness sake I’ll limit myself to one song: “In The Water”. It’s not the best song on the EP, but in my opinion it showcases her various tools the best. We hear her complete range, from the murky lows to the delicate highs, her beautiful vocables included. She writes it in one of her most common formats: a meandering mix between conversation, narrative, and her own thoughts. She also layers the instrumental as the song proceeds, beginning with some of her more stripped down production (usually serving more sensitive narratives) and building to a masterfully layered chorus that even includes what sounds like a harp laid over top. It’s elegant, it’s emotional, it’s beautifully performed, it’s entertaining, it’s Gretel Hänlyn. In 2023 she vowed to take her already fully formed sound and push it further on Head of the Love Club. The result is fantastic. So good I couldn’t resist writing a complete and overdue EP review . I have so much to say about Gretel Hänlyn I needed an entirely different article, if that doesn’t properly sum up her talent I don’t know what does. https://www.gretelhanlyn.com/ Musical discovery is the most essential role we can play as consumers. If you haven’t heard of these three, I am thrilled to introduce you. If you have, keep listening, so we can keep getting more. They are all very talented, and together they cover all aspects of experiencing music. I hope you agree.

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.

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 .

Pink Tape BY: Ian Sherry 7/16/23 On June 30, 2023, Lil Uzi Vert released Pink Tape. For those who don’t know, Lil Uzi Vert (they/them) is a rapper from Philadelphia. They also share a birthday with me! One of the champions of Soundcloud-Era hip-hop, which birthed numerous stylistic trends (namely widespread autotune usage), Uzi has carved a niche for themselves and their sound within the mainstream of rap music. This niche includes some of the most diehard fans in music today. Perhaps to a fault, Uzi’s fans will back them, and to their credit, they keep the masses on their toes. From getting a gem attached to their forehead, to their increasingly diverse musical endeavors, they know how to play the game. With their 2023 release, they’re doing exactly that: playing games. Lil Uzi Vert has had different variations of success throughout their career. They’ve proven, at times, to be a prolific hit-maker. Their 2023 single “I Just Wanna Rock” is a shining example of this. Uzi also has the ability to make a musically strong and conceptually cohesive album. Their 2017 Luv Is Rage 2 is fantastic. Uzi has it in them. Unfortunately, Pink Tape is a flaming heap of garbage. Uzi feels distracted. They feel lazy, but most of all, they don’t properly represent the talent that they possess. Nothing is more frustrating, especially as a fan of albums, than listening to one that could have been good. Uzi’s 2023 record displays nearly none of the finer points of album construction, but as a brief palate cleanser, here are some positives I dug out of the 26 song monstrosity that is Pink Tape. I have to acknowledge (and hold on for dear life to) the fact that Pink Tape is an aesthetic success. Uzi, who seems to try operating from a holistically creative space, often has an intriguing and carefully constructed public persona; a persona that I wish was more musically present. Uzi themselves are rarely present on their album covers, often opting for a cartoon version or something on the abstract side. In fact, the only album they’re physically present on prior to Pink Tape is Luv Is Rage 2. Unfortunately, the slight visual similarities do not mark a return to 2017 form for Uzi. To me, Luv Is Rage 2 thrives in consistency, they locked in on a style and beat it to death in the best way. Meanwhile, Pink Tape’s extremely limited strength is found in diversity. You may be saying ‘well of course there’s diversity, it's 26 songs long’. Don’t assume, Uzi will prove you wrong. In 26 songs Uzi managed to put together one truly compelling stretch of songs, and they did everyone a favor by grouping them together so we can conveniently skip the rest. Although Nicki Minaj and Don Toliver donated songs to the cause at tracks 11 and 20, Uzi’s solo success is limited to tracks 14-17. Out of 26. I’ll save you the finger math, it’s not a good ratio, but since I’m supposed to be covering the good I’ll start at “Nakamura”. Named for WWE star Shinsuke Nakamura, Uzi samples the wrestler’s entrance song. It provides the high-energy arena vibe they were aiming for, accomplishing something that Uzi chased unsuccessfully throughout the first 9 songs of the album. It’s nothing complicated, but combined with a solid vocal performance from Uzi, the result is a fun song. “Nakamura” had to be good because it's immediately followed by one of the most intoxicating songs of the year. “I Just Wanna Rock” is Lil Uzi Vert’s club masterpiece. It’s pure energy, it’s overly simple, it’s overplayed, it’s New Jersey club, it's what music has come to, but at the same time, it’s perfect. Uzi sticks with the club trap for “Fire Alarm” featuring Snow Strippers. The bass presence is essential on this track as is the feature. It brings more chaotic energy to Pink Tape, but this time, it's listenable. There is a way to execute organized chaos, and Snow Strippers may be better suited for that direction. Speaking of direction, as soon as Uzi starts to head in an interestingly cohesive one, they decide to drop in a little metal. “CS” marks a new direction for Uzi yet again. While it isn’t by any means polished, it's exciting to see Uzi explore a direction of interest to them when so much of the album is the same old sound with a different ‘attitude’ or a severe lack of bass. They switch up tempo and intensity frequently on “CS,” and while it doesn’t always flow particularly well, the autotuned vocals float nicely atop stripped down instrumental and contrast nicely with the heavy metal hook. Uzi goes for a metal sound twice more on this record. Both songs do a great job of making “CS” look masterful in comparison. The intentional unpredictability of Uzi is on full display from tracks 14-17, and while that doesn’t by any means redeem Pink Tape, it gives the audience something to take away. Unfortunately, my birthday buddy has given me a plethora of reasons to be disappointed this year. Much like Lil Yachty, who actually branched out this year, Uzi has a tendency to make some of the most repetitive music known to man. This can last a verse, a song, or an entire album. It’s certainly an issue on Pink Tape, and although it’s a stylistic choice, it still upsets me. The first nine songs of the album have lots of issues beyond repetition though, from borderline incoherent verses to low quality instrumental samples. What bothers me the most is the blatant lack of low-end to the mixes. There’s not enough bass, pure and simple. Bass is essential in Hip-Hop. It can hold together a beat, guide the rhythm, or even become the centerpiece in place of a traditional rhythm section, like contemporary Michigan rap production often does. Uzi and his football roster of producers seem to have forgotten that until track ten. Nine consecutive bad songs to start a 26 song album! I can’t speak to whether or not this is a stylistic choice, but I don’t care. I can’t look past this level of questionable output from supposedly professional studios, much less listen to it. Uzi littered bones for me to pick throughout the entirety of this album, but the worst of all is the overarching issue of album construction. There are endless factors that go into the proper construction of an album; it’s an artform in itself. Uzi checks one single box with Pink Tape: a good cover. There’s different approaches to making an album. I split them into two categories. An album can be a simple collection of musically cohesive songs. Whether it transverses genres as it progresses or sticks in the same vein, the key to this kind of album is a balance of quality and stylistic flow. The second type is a little bit harder to execute: an album as an idea. It requires taking a concept, whether it's a feeling, experience, statement, all of those things, or none of those things, and creating a set of songs that flow into one another as one continuous story, which upon zooming out paints a complete picture for the audience. So, once again, there are two different types of albums. I don’t necessarily have a preference, but I believe there are two distinctly different directions, so attempting to go somewhere in the middle is dangerous and failing to hit either results in a conceptual failure regardless of the musical merit. Pink Tape is a conceptual failure. There is no definitive theme. The closest they get to a theme is the repeated declaration that Lil Uzi Vert is not in fact gay (something I wasn’t even aware was a topic of discussion). I have nothing to say on the matter other than that is not a theme, especially not in the way Uzi executes it. As far as albums go, because it lacks any sort of theme or intentional direction, as well as a cohesive grouping of music, Pink Tape is nothing. There is no redeemable factor to this record’s existence, and on top of that, there’s an hour and a half of it. I don’t know why Uzi made Pink Tape and it doesn’t feel like they do either. As a fan (who they profit off), an album is a semi-sacred occasion, and as an artist, disregarding the importance of that does everyone involved (minus those who profit) a disservice. Despite the bright spots, I won’t lie, Uzi has done themselves and their fans a disservice this year. Pink Tape is a 3.5/10

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

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

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.

WORST GIRL ON THE CULTURE GYRE Ian Thomas Sherry, 5/17/2026 Slayyyter released her third studio album, WOR$T GIRL IN AMERICA on March 27, 2026. On May 13, 2026, they requested that we review it. Upon further inspection, Slayyyter is a Missouri gal, who worked her way from Soundcloud through Fader Records to Columbia for her big coming out this record. Part of the Midwest hardcore wave that’s dominated the pop underground over the last decade or so, she’s as legitimate a performer and producer as she is a representative of her pop influences. We’re honored to have received the assignment. (Track 1) “DANCE…” is a demonstrative introduction reminiscent of Lady Gaga’s 2025 project MAYHEM , as Slayyyter does a bit of vocal soaring on the refrain and rides the ebbs and flows of a grumbling pop beat that subsides and rebuilds for a bridge before more “oooooooooooouuuuaaaaaaaaahs.” (Track 2) “BEAT UP CHANEL$” shifts the LP into the next gear. A bouncy hyperpop beat takes over and Slayyyter’s MC persona introduces herself. Here’s a bit: “Sex, money, drugs, chains on my chest, vintage Celine/ Diamond grills, champagne bottles, I get for free/ I want sex, money, bitches, and the stickiest weeed” - holy cow. So clearly Slayyyter is a partier, rager is probably the more accurate term, but she glides more nimbly on the back half of track 2, somewhat resembling Gwenn Stefani (though I doubt the two would agree politically). As for personality, I’ll point to the dollar sign in the center of the thoughtfully titled album’s cover, intentional themes of attachment on (Track 3) CANNIBALISM!” and throughout, plus the ongoing theme of fanatical fame-fun-&-fortune-chasing. (Track 5) “CRANK” may be my favorite. The beat begins pulsating and riveting for nearly 30 seconds before Slayyyter starts spilling bars all over it, a siren begins to whirr in the background, and she requests that her DJ “CRANK IT!” She revs it up similarly, with increasing gumption, several times before the song’s end and spits quality verses in between, well-rounded and incessant. (Track 6) “GAS STATION” is a solid lil story song with an increasingly throbbing baseline that supports this flighty chorus: “When you left me all alone at the gas station/ I was crying out my eyes out of desperation/ I kept looking at my phone, I was hoping you would call…” Let’s get back to raging. (Track 7) “YES GODDD” does just that. The waves of acid bass mixed to wash overtop the vocals simulate a crazed pit show, MC screaming in between the DJs pounding sound, and while there are actually some great lyrics in the build, this track is all about the title line. Slayyyter repeatedly screams “YES GOOOODDDDDDD” with unrelenting fervor and it takes me to the place it was meant to be performed (minus the fumes). Ok, maybe this is my favorite. (Track 8) “UNKNOWN LOVERZ” is a washy refrain from its predecessor. For one of the few, if not the only wholesome track on the record, Slayyyter chooses shades of Magdalena Bay as her sonic scape, and reminds me of Wet Leg’s Rhian Teasedale on the spoken bridge. She carries a passably popified prototype of the same sound into (Track 9) “OLD FLING$,” but the album’s third STANDOUT track comes next. Track 10 has the sound of an important song from the needle drop; if that’s hard to imagine you’ll have to listen. “You think I see you?/ You think I care about you? / You think you strike some kind of nerve, do ya? / Oh you know the DJ? (oh she knows the djjjj) / No, you know the owner, right? / Oh, you know my boyfriend? / Do you know me from somewhere?... ‘I’M ACTUALLY KIND OF FAMOUS’.” ( beat drop ) When Slayyyter knows she has lightning in a bottle, she completes excellent songs. I’d love to know whether she writes the song and seeks a fitting instrumental or makes a machine gun beat and then decides to write something special. Whatever the case, she delivers. (Track 11) “$T. LOSER” is no different. This song exhibits a vengefully simple questioning of a past connection: “I think about you / Do you think about me?” – over and over. That doesn’t stop the track from building from a rigid beat to a soaring backing for Slayyyter to once again emulate Lady Gaga, singing with all her might and control amongst the strobes. It’s on the less sonically impactful tracks, like (Track 14) “BRITTANY MURPHY.,” which are more lyrically focused, that I find myself wondering if she ought to enlist some session musicians to better bring to life her apparent visions. The soundboard is only so deep. However, for this LP, passable tracks like those are a rarity. Slayyyter is unmistakably driven, stylistically focus, and on her way to the center stage. She just announced dates for her Australian tour, where she’ll no doubt be greeted with the warmest of EDM crowds, and she’s set to appear on Jimmy Fallon Tuesday (5/19) if you care to watch that. I’m personally tickled to have been brought into the dialogue on another rising artist and thoroughly enjoyed the record. As for Slayyyter, good luck getting exceedingly rich and famous, tis the dream they’ve sold us. THE WOR$T GIRL IN AMERICA is an 8.6.

Coverage Vol. 2 1/25/24 BY: IAN SHERRY I shouldn’t have done this one, it's too hard. One challenge of any cover is to maintain everything that makes the original great. This can be difficult considering you have to put your own twist on it and inject your own stylings, while attempting to replicate the personality and strengths of the original artist can interfere with that process. It’s a delicate balance, and that’s why covers are one of my favorite music industry phenomena. Today the point of emphasis is feel, and few artists benefit more from the feel of their music than T he Doors . Let’s talk about one of their best. Jim Morrison’s band charted its first #1 hit in 1967 with “Light My Fire” . It was clear from the very beginning of the legendary LA band’s discography that they had something sp ecial. Relying on keys and rolling guitars on top of steady drums, they were able to captivate a certain easily distinguishable sound, capable of bridging the gap between legendary groups like The Zombies and Grateful Dead . 1967 was a big year for music, with The Beatles changing direction on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Band , Eric Burdon taking control of The Animals , and Motown and Frank Sinatra sharing the top of the charts. Perhaps most significantly, some of the most influential acts of the next decade began to emerge including Jimi Hendrix , Pink Floyd , The Velvet Underground , and of course, The Doors. The latter announced themselves in a historically and contemporarily unprecedented fashion. The 60s was a decade in which the average length of a hit song was just 2:59 , yet somehow, Jim Morrison and co. took over the number one slot with a song just over 7 minutes in length (and a decade later people thought “Bohemian Rhapsody” was long at 2 minutes above average). It was a new era in music, and The Doors arrived right on time. Naturally, other artists took notice. A hit song with its own feel, simple arrangement, instrumental solo, and a runtime waiting to be shortened, sounds like a challenge. Sounds like the perfect opportunity for a cover. Welcome to Coverage Vol. 2 Honorable Mentions Shirley Bas sey The Goldfinger Singer took the big band approach in her 1970 cover. While the vocal performance is strong and the band is impressive, it lacks the meticulous groove of the original and falls short of replicating or otherwise matching The Doors' signature feel. Stevie Wonder I’m stunned, dumbfounded, floored, flabbergasted to see Stevie Wonder sitting in the honorable mentions, but here we are. Stevie performs it like he does any other song of his late 60s era, and drops a harmonica solo in place of the original keyboard. To me, although he is the king of that instrument, it is too thin in comparison to the show of force by Ray Manzarek on the original. It’s as good as any other Stevie song from that time, and that’s a strong category, just not as strong as this particular competition I’ve thrust him into. Jackie Wilson While he supplied the most energetic vocal performance and perhaps the cleanest instrumentals, Wilson was overshadowed in other categories. The horn solo is great, but other forthcoming artists took an equally aggressive angle on the horns. On top of that, he misses the intended vibe of the song without inserting a formidable alternative. However, this is a fantastic rendition that narrowly missed out on a top four mention. You can’t go wrong on this list, I promise. NUMBER FOUR JOSé FELICIAN O On a list where cultivating your own feel is essential, Feliciano will always excel. I’d qualify his rendition as the anti-Doorsian approach. While his methodical delivery and gradual song structu re are most similar to the original, Feliciano conveys a level of warmth strong enough to rival that legendary Morrison brooding. That’s very hard to do. His performance is laid back for much of the song, as he paints it with nimble and complimentary play on his guitar. It is a pleasant invitation with just the right amount of emotion and an exciting freestyle finish. His choice to build performative energy more gradually than any other version of “Light My Fire” really reflects the message of the song. As his excitement and passion for the fire-lighter picks up the warmth and positivity is infectious, yet his original mellow vibe remains present. It's simple, but intentional, and perfectly executed. NUMBER THREE AL GREEN My favorite vocal performance on this list, Al Green’s swagger is undeniable. While you can argue amongst any of the covers yet to be named, he may have done the best job of making it h is own. Green’s legendary career is partially owed to his unwavering status as the smoothest vocalist around, but what makes his 19 71 record unique is its rough edges. Gets Next To You saw hits like “I Can’t Get Next To You” , “Tired of Being Alone” and “I’m a Ram” , all of which have sharp drums and horns. At times, Green doubles down on that ever-so-slightly abrasive sound by matching it with some of his raspiest performances ever, while still providing a healthy dose of his signature smoothness, to create an incredibly satisfying contrast. Sitting perfectly between upbeat blues and soul, it's my pick for the strongest album in his catalog, and he masterfully pulls “Light My Fire” into that fold. By speaking the first few lines, he opens a dialogue with his audience, pulls us in by delicately delivering the initial hook, and maintains total control as his intensity, volume, and confidence grow throughout the track. Once you’re hooked, Green doesn’t let you off the mat, but you wouldn’t want to get up anyway. NUMBER TWO The Doors The original “Light My Fire” is one of the greatest coming-out-parties in all of music. The Doors introduce themselves to the charts with un wavering pace, seven minutes of it. As I mentioned brie fly, the length was unprecedented, to say the least. So, in order to captiv ate this endurance deprived audience f or the entirety of their chart-topper, they had to do something special. I think the key to The Doors’ chart-topping accomplishment is the balance they struck. It pushed the envelope in more ways than length; a relentless keyboard solo and dynamic yet restrained vocal performance set it apart from its contemporary hits. It isn’t the best version but it h as by far the greatest le gacy. “Light My Fire” is one of the most important songs of its era, because it stretched a formulaic performance to its stylistic capacity and opened the charts up to the fast-moving, incredibly impactful, and ultimately self-destructive force of nature that was Jim Morrison. NUMBER ONE ETTA jAM ES Every other artist that covered “Light My Fire” avoided The Doors' murkiness in favor of their own sound and vibe. Their decisions are likely all based on the fact that beating a band like that at their own sonic game is risky to say the least. Etta James was not, could not have been, intimidated. So, she leads in with a heavy bass guitar that pushes the limit of the lower portion of the mix. To balance it out, she stays in the upper half of her vocal range, providing a clear and clean balance. The drums hold pace and the occasional guitar painted overtop fills out the sound. It’s simple and slow, like the original, but by cutting the instrumental solo, which every other artist attempted to replicate in some way, she brought it completely into her wheelhouse. Much like Aretha’s “Resp ect ” , her revision is hardly recognizable, and that is due to one crucial factor: Etta James herself. Yes, the instrumental adjustments are masterful, and cutting the solo does have an impact, but her vocal delivery is the biggest gamechanger. She pours every bit of swagger available into this song, much like Al Green, but her intentionally measured cadence shift makes a massive, albeit subtle, difference. She improvises her way through the song, delivering all of the written lyrics in quicker succession than the original. James’ slight alteration of every single line is largely responsible for over four minutes of difference, as she yanks the song back into contemporary song-length standards. The moral of the story: Etta James is untouchable, and if she covers your song, kiss it goodbye.

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

Did you know that Lana Del Rey likes exceptionally long titles BY: Ian Sherry 4/23/23 On March 24, Lana Del Rey released Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard. Lana is one of the strangest figures in music today. She made waves upon entry into the market and sparked backlash over her apparent status as an industry plant. While this rubs some people the wrong way, her fans are some of the most dedicated in all of music. They feed into her ever-changing and intentionally unique persona - and vice versa. The result is a catalog mix of inconsistencies, originality and creativity. For me, this is an overall positive characteristic, but it does complicate any quality-based judgments of her work. I generally believe that in cases like this (where the artist is weird outside the music, but not necessarily in it), it’s best to separate their public personas from the music to avoid over or under-crediting them based on personal bias. To be clear, her personality enhances the tone of the album, something that many artists struggle with. However, I don’t often find a significant alteration to the music itself. Yes, she has evolved as an artist, but the stylistic shifts from album to album have never been groundbreaking to me. Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard is easily better than her previous two releases, and while it isn’t a huge creative step forward, it innovates enough to please her hungry audience, and it includes some of her cleanest, well-rounded tracks to date. Lana’s atmosphere of choice on Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard is one of melancholy and nostalgia from the perspective of a woman intent on letting her emotional trauma fester through 77 minutes of painful memories. Her storytelling is, in short, unique. She carefully constructs emotionally raw narratives that the listener can feel. They’re often conversational, a dialogue between her and another person, sometimes an old friend, family member, or romantic partner, sometimes herself, and sometimes nobody at all. Lana’s storytelling, combined with her polished voice and attitude of comfortable familiarity, paints blurry images that must be clear to somebody - but we are not somebody. This atmosphere Lana constructed is present on all of her best songs on the record. I believe “Sweet”, “Kintsugi”, and “Fingertips” are some of the best examples, but excluding a select few, you can feel it in every song. In the past, Lana has struggled to lock into one really strong sound. On Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard , she does. However, her ability to mix things up without departing from her theme or comfort zone is what elevates this album. On “A&W”, the lengthiest song of the album at 7:13, Lana recounts short memories of past experiences, how they’ve soured her outlook on love and herself, and how she’s now a less worthy romantic acquisition. It’s a dark look into the troubled mind of someone lacking self-esteem and their subsequent inability to deal with emotions or even basic facts in a positive way. However, this outstanding narrative aside, what stands out the most to me is Lana sounding like Lorde. The first 4 minutes are a steady instrumental performance from a piano and acoustic guitar fronted by Lana’s meandering vocals, but the last three minutes break into something entirely different: the production suddenly switches to electronic, with base hits and a drum machine coming into play along with a buzzy finish on Lana’s up-pace vocals. It is very reminiscent of Lorde’s 2013 hit album Pure Heroine . From the building up and stripping down of the production to Lana’s repetitive lyrics and layered vocals, the finish to “A&W” is a shocking and well-executed finish to an emotionally raw song. This isn’t the only instance of Lana dipping into outside influences on her 2023 project. For instance, “Grandfather please stand on the shoulders of my father while he’s deep-sea fishing”, yes that’s the title, reminds me of Kate Bush in a way. But what impressed me, even more than her incorporation of different sounds, was her use of features. Jon Batiste’s feature on “Candy Necklace” is the album’s first. I love Batiste, so I was excited to see how they would come together on this song. At first I was disappointed, as he only plays piano behind her fairly repetitive vocals. But by my third listen I changed my mind. Batiste is a genius with his hands on a piano, and his performance provides a unique backing to a straightforward, but enjoyable performance. They don’t always blend seamlessly, but there are successful moments when Lana changes pace or volume in unison with Batiste’s piano runs, which adds a very unique quality to the song. “Paris, Texas” feat. SYML, “Let The Light In” feat. Father John Misty, and “Margaret” feat. Bleachers are three of the strongest songs on the album. “Paris, Texas” features a simple instrumental accompaniment from SYML. His feature doesn’t add to the song as noticeably as the Batiste feature does, but it is one of the most well-done songs in Lana’s discography and might be my favorite on the album. “Let The Light In” is the most traditional feature on the album. Lana and Father John Misty duet on the chorus, adding to the fullness of a touching song while still allowing Lana to carry the personal and nostalgic narrative on her own. “Margaret” is similar to “Let The Light In”, but with a more dynamic performance from Lana. Bleachers plays a very similar role to Father John Misty, helping on the chorus and providing a point of return in the chorus for Lana to take the verses to different places. She shows more range on this one song than the rest of the entire album, and the instrumental is much more upfront in certain parts of the mix, elevating the song above the surrounding tracks. Without Bleachers holding down the chorus and providing a more mellow vibe, the exceptional contrast of “Margaret” wouldn’t have been possible. Lana Del Rey was clearly in a creative place for this album. While her creativity manifests itself in the album's best moments, it’s also evident in what I consider to be her biggest mistakes. The first shortcoming, “Judah Smith Interlude”, is an instrumentally backed rant that forces the listener to analyze it for any possible meaning before inevitably giving up before the 4:37 is up. I don’t know what she was getting at here, but I do know it doesn’t fit. Just two tracks later the “Jon Batiste Interlude” is a much better version. His piano backs up a distorted recording of his voice with some Lana vocals in the background. It feels like much more of an instrumental interlude than “Judah Smith Interlude”, and it’s a welcome addition to the flow of the album, unlike its predecessor. The second shortcoming comes in the last three songs. To be fair, I like Lana’s decision to shift from a mostly live recorded instrumental album to a more electronically produced finish starting on “Fishtail”. There are great moments of vocal distortion and sonic layering, but “Peppers” is simply out of place. As the second-to-last track on the album, it has a completely different vibe in the wrong way. In a different context it is a good song, which is why I wish she had released it as a sort of red herring single. It has a catchy chorus and some classic late 2000s vocals, which is exactly why it makes no sense here. Although I like “Peppers” on its own, I am baffled by its inclusion on Lana’s otherwise cohesive and focused 2023 project. A final minor critique: Lana’s verses don’t alway distinguish themselves from one another or the chorus because of the understated delivery. But, this is more of a preference issue on my part and a stylistic choice on hers. This album, in my mind, is an anomaly. Lana is overly-focused on a singular theme, something that has hurt, even delegitimized, some of her previous work. But, this time it is done perfectly. Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard combines some of Lana’s best songs with her most beautiful moments ever. Without “Judah Smith Interlude '' and “Peppers”, this album really flirts with perfection. Ironically, Lana Del Rey, who is often considered a semi-niche artist, has delivered an album I would genuinely recommend to nearly any audience. A simple rating can’t encapsulate how much I like this album. Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard is an 8.75/10.

Coverage Vol. 2 1/25/24 BY: IAN SHERRY I shouldn’t have done this one, it's too hard. One challenge of any cover is to maintain everything that makes the original great. This can be difficult considering you have to put your own twist on it and inject your own stylings, while attempting to replicate the personality and strengths of the original artist can interfere with that process. It’s a delicate balance, and that’s why covers are one of my favorite music industry phenomena. Today the point of emphasis is feel, and few artists benefit more from the feel of their music than T he Doors . Let’s talk about one of their best. Jim Morrison’s band charted its first #1 hit in 1967 with “Light My Fire” . It was clear from the very beginning of the legendary LA band’s discography that they had something sp ecial. Relying on keys and rolling guitars on top of steady drums, they were able to captivate a certain easily distinguishable sound, capable of bridging the gap between legendary groups like The Zombies and Grateful Dead . 1967 was a big year for music, with The Beatles changing direction on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Band , Eric Burdon taking control of The Animals , and Motown and Frank Sinatra sharing the top of the charts. Perhaps most significantly, some of the most influential acts of the next decade began to emerge including Jimi Hendrix , Pink Floyd , The Velvet Underground , and of course, The Doors. The latter announced themselves in a historically and contemporarily unprecedented fashion. The 60s was a decade in which the average length of a hit song was just 2:59 , yet somehow, Jim Morrison and co. took over the number one slot with a song just over 7 minutes in length (and a decade later people thought “Bohemian Rhapsody” was long at 2 minutes above average). It was a new era in music, and The Doors arrived right on time. Naturally, other artists took notice. A hit song with its own feel, simple arrangement, instrumental solo, and a runtime waiting to be shortened, sounds like a challenge. Sounds like the perfect opportunity for a cover. Welcome to Coverage Vol. 2 Honorable Mentions Shirley Bas sey The Goldfinger Singer took the big band approach in her 1970 cover. While the vocal performance is strong and the band is impressive, it lacks the meticulous groove of the original and falls short of replicating or otherwise matching The Doors' signature feel. Stevie Wonder I’m stunned, dumbfounded, floored, flabbergasted to see Stevie Wonder sitting in the honorable mentions, but here we are. Stevie performs it like he does any other song of his late 60s era, and drops a harmonica solo in place of the original keyboard. To me, although he is the king of that instrument, it is too thin in comparison to the show of force by Ray Manzarek on the original. It’s as good as any other Stevie song from that time, and that’s a strong category, just not as strong as this particular competition I’ve thrust him into. Jackie Wilson While he supplied the most energetic vocal performance and perhaps the cleanest instrumentals, Wilson was overshadowed in other categories. The horn solo is great, but other forthcoming artists took an equally aggressive angle on the horns. On top of that, he misses the intended vibe of the song without inserting a formidable alternative. However, this is a fantastic rendition that narrowly missed out on a top four mention. You can’t go wrong on this list, I promise. NUMBER FOUR JOSé FELICIAN O On a list where cultivating your own feel is essential, Feliciano will always excel. I’d qualify his rendition as the anti-Doorsian approach. While his methodical delivery and gradual song structu re are most similar to the original, Feliciano conveys a level of warmth strong enough to rival that legendary Morrison brooding. That’s very hard to do. His performance is laid back for much of the song, as he paints it with nimble and complimentary play on his guitar. It is a pleasant invitation with just the right amount of emotion and an exciting freestyle finish. His choice to build performative energy more gradually than any other version of “Light My Fire” really reflects the message of the song. As his excitement and passion for the fire-lighter picks up the warmth and positivity is infectious, yet his original mellow vibe remains present. It's simple, but intentional, and perfectly executed. NUMBER THREE AL GREEN My favorite vocal performance on this list, Al Green’s swagger is undeniable. While you can argue amongst any of the covers yet to be named, he may have done the best job of making it h is own. Green’s legendary career is partially owed to his unwavering status as the smoothest vocalist around, but what makes his 19 71 record unique is its rough edges. Gets Next To You saw hits like “I Can’t Get Next To You” , “Tired of Being Alone” and “I’m a Ram” , all of which have sharp drums and horns. At times, Green doubles down on that ever-so-slightly abrasive sound by matching it with some of his raspiest performances ever, while still providing a healthy dose of his signature smoothness, to create an incredibly satisfying contrast. Sitting perfectly between upbeat blues and soul, it's my pick for the strongest album in his catalog, and he masterfully pulls “Light My Fire” into that fold. By speaking the first few lines, he opens a dialogue with his audience, pulls us in by delicately delivering the initial hook, and maintains total control as his intensity, volume, and confidence grow throughout the track. Once you’re hooked, Green doesn’t let you off the mat, but you wouldn’t want to get up anyway. NUMBER TWO The Doors The original “Light My Fire” is one of the greatest coming-out-parties in all of music. The Doors introduce themselves to the charts with un wavering pace, seven minutes of it. As I mentioned brie fly, the length was unprecedented, to say the least. So, in order to captiv ate this endurance deprived audience f or the entirety of their chart-topper, they had to do something special. I think the key to The Doors’ chart-topping accomplishment is the balance they struck. It pushed the envelope in more ways than length; a relentless keyboard solo and dynamic yet restrained vocal performance set it apart from its contemporary hits. It isn’t the best version but it h as by far the greatest le gacy. “Light My Fire” is one of the most important songs of its era, because it stretched a formulaic performance to its stylistic capacity and opened the charts up to the fast-moving, incredibly impactful, and ultimately self-destructive force of nature that was Jim Morrison. NUMBER ONE ETTA jAM ES Every other artist that covered “Light My Fire” avoided The Doors' murkiness in favor of their own sound and vibe. Their decisions are likely all based on the fact that beating a band like that at their own sonic game is risky to say the least. Etta James was not, could not have been, intimidated. So, she leads in with a heavy bass guitar that pushes the limit of the lower portion of the mix. To balance it out, she stays in the upper half of her vocal range, providing a clear and clean balance. The drums hold pace and the occasional guitar painted overtop fills out the sound. It’s simple and slow, like the original, but by cutting the instrumental solo, which every other artist attempted to replicate in some way, she brought it completely into her wheelhouse. Much like Aretha’s “Resp ect ” , her revision is hardly recognizable, and that is due to one crucial factor: Etta James herself. Yes, the instrumental adjustments are masterful, and cutting the solo does have an impact, but her vocal delivery is the biggest gamechanger. She pours every bit of swagger available into this song, much like Al Green, but her intentionally measured cadence shift makes a massive, albeit subtle, difference. She improvises her way through the song, delivering all of the written lyrics in quicker succession than the original. James’ slight alteration of every single line is largely responsible for over four minutes of difference, as she yanks the song back into contemporary song-length standards. The moral of the story: Etta James is untouchable, and if she covers your song, kiss it goodbye.