Eilish & Cameron in 3D BY: DAWSON SARCONA feat. ITS, 5/6/2026 Billie Eilish – Hit Me Hard and Soft: The Tour (Live in 3D) is the latest concert film/documentary from a cross-generational collaboration between Billie Eilish and directing legend James Cameron. While this movie falls into some of the concert movie genre’s formulaic pitfalls, it stands out as one of the most immersive and visually pleasing cinematized performances I've ever seen. Let’s begin with perhaps the most technically difficult portion of this movie, the cinematography. Coming into a world tour, months in, with the goal of branding new 3D camera technology is a tall task. Even more so when you consider that these cameras must be placed in functional areas that don't restrict the actual onstage performance but capture usable, visually pleasing footage. That being said, Cameron, Eilish, and their teams executed flawlessly. There are endless shots in this movie that felt like pieces of artwork. Further, what really impressed me was the ability to capture scale and immerse the audience. The mix of wide-angle, high-definition cameras with new “Lightstorm Vision” 3D technology made the concert feel physically impactful in theaters, and the clarity of the pictures captured via 3D was astounding to me. I have never once felt more immersed in a concert film, and at times, I forgot about the spectacle of watching “a 3D movie” as it rather tricked my brain into a more holistic concert viewing experience. All of the great visual direction and setups aside, there are some issues I have with this movie. I will say flatly, I am not typically a big fan of concert movies. They’re just not really my type of film and they often struggle to grab my attention. This movie follows the stereotypical format of all films in this genre, cutting between concert performance footage and behind-the-scenes documentary-style clips. My biggest issue is the way the behind-the-scenes footage was cut together. There seemed to be almost no pattern to it, and there were scenes intercut into the middle of the film that would have done much better setting the stage earlier in the movie (rather than an actual time lapse of stage set-up to begin the film). I also would have loved to get into the weeds of how this tour functions from the crew side. The crew has feelings too. As for the music, as a casual fan of Billie Eilish and her overall sound, I had a lot of fun seeing the hits performed in cool ways and learning some of her songs I hadn't heard before. I can say that I came out of this movie more of a fan of Eilish (and Cameron). That being said, my reviews mostly focus on movies, so I'll briefly hand you over to a writer with larger ears, Ian Sherry. ~~~ Billie Eilish’s minimal bandstand matched her minimalist pop sound. A large rectangle with two dugouts near center-stage housed a bassist, guitarist, drummer, and a pair of backup singing sisters. That, plus an omnipresent backtrack and a loop pedal for “when the party’s over,” was all Eilish needed to move her audience to screaming tears. She was vocally tight, physically fit, swagger-laced, and on a scripted mission to provide the audience with the ultimate “Billie Eilish” experience. - ITS ~~~ Overall, I was pleasantly surprised by this movie. I had a lot of fun with it, aside from some confusing editing choices that might have hindered some of the momentum. For a concert movie, I thought it was one of the best I’d come across, and I know this will be a smash hit for all die-hard Billie Eilish fans. I’d give this movie a 6 out of 10 on the scale of regular movies. But, with a film genre like this, that's so vastly different from the story-based films I'm used to reviewing, I feel like a different scale is more suitable for this venture. So that being said, when compared to the other films from the concert movie category, my final review for this movie is a 9 out of 10, and I would highly recommend it to fans of Eilish, Cameron, and the genre at large.

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

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

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

GRAMMYS ON TRIAL 2/4/24 BY: IAN SHERRY On Sunday, February 4, 2023, the 66th annual Grammy Awards will take place at 8 pm. If you like good music, you may not like the Grammys. In fact, I’d tend towards the opinion that you absolutely should not. Anyone who’s ever watched the Grammys has experienced disappointment. They’ve experienced confusion as an artist strolls to the stage to accept the most prestigious award that applies to their mediocre product. That combination of disappointment and confusion leads to anger. Then, all of a sudden, music’s biggest night, the one that’s supposed to bring fans together nationwide, is steeped in division. Twitter lights up in outrage, TVs shut off, and people go to bed thinking next year will be better. People are mistaken, because in fact, the Grammys only get worse. Their archaic thought processes and categorizations grow weaker as music diversifies, and their failure to adjust in any significant way becomes increasingly offensive. Yet, they sit alone at the top of their critical field. If you’re interested, please join me down here as I throw rocks at the throne. One of the greatest criticisms of any institution is to say they’ve lost sight of their original purpose; the Grammy Awards are a perfect example. Elected officials often get lost in the game that is politics and begin to govern with the intention of securing reelection instead of serving the people. The Grammys have fallen into a similar trap. In order to maintain their unparalleled grip on the pinnacle of musical achievement, they feel they need to please an audience. Their word is final, yet if people are displeased their credibility comes into question. So, in order to maintain credibility and reserve the right to assert their opinion, they have to simultaneously appeal to the largest possible demographics while pacifying the frustration of undervalued fanbases. For this year’s attempt at saving face, Harvey Mason Jr., the CEO of The Recording Academy, added three sub-categories: best African music performance, best alternative jazz album, and best pop dance recording. While the surface-level intention here is good, it doesn’t make a dent. The Grammys' genre divisions can’t be fixed by adding niche awards here and there. If there is a category for Christian music why not other religions? If there is a category for Electronic music why does it only apply to the Euro/American EDM and hyperpop movements and not the majority-Black Techno and House movements of Detroit and Chicago? You’ll never get to the root of the problem by going one at a time. The result of their box-checking strategy is an uncomfortable and unbalanced relationship with not only the artists, but their audience as well. How is an audience supposed to accept the word of The Recording Academy as gospel when that word has been so obviously impacted by a variety of monetary influences and inherent biases? Criteria is the key word when it comes to exercises of this nature. An entity that is determining the best or worst of anything must have criteria in order to consistently deliver a decision. Discrepancies sew doubt into the minds of the audience, and I have many doubts running through my mind this year. Morgan Wallen is the newest rage in country music. In 2023 he was all over the charts, even holding the number one slot for 16 weeks with “Last Night” . His music dominated the country audience, but more impressively, he brought in non-country fans as well. I won’t pretend to count myself as one of them, but I do find it incredible that he will receive the same number of golden Grammy trophies as me this year (0). While his songwriters have a shot in the best country song category, Morgan Wallen himself is not nominated once. If the Grammys aren’t about the fans, at least not his, they must put more of an emphasis on critical success, right? Caroline Polachek must be nominated for album of the year. Wrong. Instead we sit in a weird in-between where popularity matters only within fanbases The Recording Academy values, where critical voices are used to defend certain artists’ inclusion but ignored to justify others. For instance, Ice Spice is nominated for Best New Artist, but not Sexyy Red . Both artists had massive presences on the rap charts and TikTok, planted their names amongst the top female rappers, made significant feature appearances, and received strong reviews from critics, yet only one is nominated. Sexyy Red is what we, in the tradition of complaining about the Grammys, call a snub. Yes, gathering around and complaining about the Grammys snubs is a tradition at this point. I’m sure The Recording Academy can feel this culture of negativity amongst their audience, though I’m not sure they care. As long as those angry people still tune in, what's the harm? A lot of work goes into crafting an audience such as this; we’re frustrated but we return without fail. They sell it and we buy it, and when there’s a dip in sales they find a way to pull us back in. In 2021 they charted by far the lowest viewership this century. The next year, they received praise from all corners of the entertainment industry when Jon Batiste won the 2022 album of the year. To follow that up, they put on a 50 years in hip-hop celebration last year, which received awards and resulted in a 30% spike in viewership from the previous year. So, how do they maintain an audience constantly threatening to wane? They lean into other demographics as needed. There is no 51 years in hip-hop celebration this year, in fact there’s no hip-hop nominated for any of the top three categories. Instead they sprinkled nominations in for Grammy darlings Kendrick Lamar and Jon Batiste , despite Lamar having a slow year in terms of production quantity and Batiste’s new album receiving lukewarm reviews across the board. This kind of token placement throughout the nominations is a common Grammy trope, and its used to justify Harry Styles’ Harry’s House winning over Beyonce’s Renaissance or Macklemore’s The Heist winning over Kendrick Lamar’s Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City (notice how they’ve been sure not to repeat this particular mistake). If you create the standard that a certain kind of music’s merit is limited, then its inclusion in any form is appreciated. Have you ever taken a moment to wonder why you never see hip-hop albums win Album of The Year? In fact, only two have ever done it. Is it fair to say that Lauryn Hill’s The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill and Outkast’s Speakerboxxx/The Love Below are the only two rap albums ever to sit at the top of their year, that even the best rap albums can’t, on average, stand up to the best of other genres, that rap is a lesser artform? No, that’s nonsense, yet that’s what the Grammys imply. The Grammys imply that Black music can be pigeonholed into one umbrella category, and somehow, that’s remained acceptable. In 2021 Black artists accounted for 44% of charting songs according to Billboard , yet a CNN article from the same year revealed only 24% of the nominees were Black. The vessel through which the Grammys bottle up Black artists is the Rap & Spoken Word Poetry category. While it's dangerous to assume an artist’s inclusion in a given category is based on anything other than merit, patterns imply intent not coincidence. Case and point: every single artist nominated in the R&B, Rap & Spoken Word Poetry this year is of African descent. Knowing that, it becomes a lot harder to remain under the impression the category has anything to do with music, not to mention the glaring differences in the art being presented within the category. However, the person who highlights this categorical foolishness the best isn’t even Black. Jelly Roll is a rapper and singer from Nashville. He spent more than a decade rapping, inspired by the Southern royalty rap of the 90s and 2000s. However, when he finally received his first Grammy nod it was in the Country & American Roots Music category. Just like there's no room for Lil Yachty in the Rock, Metal & Alternative Music category, there was no room for Jelly Roll in the Grammys definition of rap. After more than a decade, this was abundantly clear to him so he transitioned to a genre that fit his skin tone and accent in the highest critical context. That’s the kind of power these awards wield. They shape the landscape in which artists attempt to create music, and they enforce their racist mindset on the industry at large. That’s why Lil Nas X couldn’t release a pop/country song without backlash, Tyler, The Creator got his music pulled from the radio for practicing the same horrorcore rap that made Eminem famous, and Iggy Azalea climbed the charts by rapping in her best impersonation of a Black woman instead of her natural Australian accent. At the source of every institutional form of discrimination is an institution. In the music industry you can point to a number of villains, but none more public and pathetic than the Grammys. To The Recording Academy: allow me to remind you of your supposed purpose. You are the highest positive critical force in American Music. You have a responsibility to recognize the best of the best, based purely on merit, by creating categories which cover all types of excellent music and rewarding the best artist within that category. The purpose of categories is to ensure those who deserve to be recognized are accommodated, not to appease the fans, insert or cover your inherent bias, or reinforce the configuration of the pop charts. The pop charts, after all, speak for themselves. We don’t need you to base your decisions upon streaming numbers or radio listenership, Billboard exists for that very purpose. No, we turn to you because you are the all-encompassing, musically critical institution which best summarizes the feelings of the most reputable pundits and the people for whom the artists make art. You wield the power of public opinion, not the other way around. That power is unrivaled in the music industry, as streaming is the livelihood of the artists who you’re meant to empower. After all, their art is also a product. Instead, you’ve become the product. You sell yourself to the public every year. Everything you do, from the categories and the artists nominated within them, to the presenters and performers selected to put on your show, is all a part of the institution, the product, the lost cause: the Grammys. Of course, we can't completely abstain from the ceremonies. So, here's a list of the best amongst the nominees, who I think will win, and who should win regardless of the nominations for every category I feel inclined and qualified to pick.

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.

Gretel Hanlyn Live: Schubas Tavern 11/11/23 11/16/23 By Ian Sherry Schubas Tavern is exactly that, a tavern. The front of the house is a bar/restaurant, and as you squeeze between the bar and booths towards the back of the restaurant, past the bathrooms, you can see a show room open up. Gretel Hänlyn and company played in that show room last Saturday, and anyone who came got a good show. Ever heard of Natsuma? If you have, I need to step my game up. The young British guitarist/vocalist led off the night, and despite playing solo, she impressed. To account for the thinner instrumental, she used a loop pedal, which, as Natsuma explained to her audience, allows an artist to play an instrument, loop a certain segment with a foot pedal, and build a layered instrumental. Despite this demanding solo performance, her vocal talent was fully on display at certain points, even elevating certain songs for the live instrumental. That takes real talent. She’s touring with Gretel Hänlyn, so catch her if you can, and listen to “Miss You” as a sample. Now, before I get to the main event, I’ll give my two cents on Adelaide. The Chicagoland native filled in for Grace Bloom last minute and did a great job. They did a great job, to the visible relief of their bill-members, despite playing solo instead of with the full band they’re accustomed to. Compared to the previous performer, Natsuma, Adelaide was much safer. Considering the circumstances, and their laid back shoegaze style, safety is to be expected, and the safety worked. The vocals brought a hint of emotion, the guitar was moody and consistent, and the stage was set for Gretel Hänlyn. Check out “Needles & Pins” As I was saying: I was right. Back in May, I wrote an article highlighting Gretel Hänlyn and two other talented artists. When I found out Hänlyn’s tour was going to stop just 40 CTA minutes from me, I couldn’t miss it. As I spoke about briefly in “Putting You On Three”, one of Gretel Hänlyn’s strengths is instrumental layering. She creates big sounds and expertly buries her vocals in the middle of the mix. She is clearly the audible focal point, yet the instrumental is never thin. This balance is difficult enough to strike in the studio, I’d imagine doing so live isn’t any simpler. Hänlyn manages just fine. Natsuma sat in on guitar, along with a bassist and drummer. The result was noticeably fuller sound than the previous two artists, to no fault of their own. H er sound was fantastic, and although it took a verse or two for her to slip into a studio-level vocal pocket, once she found it she didn’t look back. The first striking vocal performance came a few songs in with “Slugeye”, which she pointed out was her first ever song on streaming services. From there she executed tracks from every corner of her growing discography, touching different pitches, tones, emotions, and personas. She stepped outside of her discography as well, performing three unreleased songs. I am confident that two of the three will be elite editions to her discography. There were no misses last Saturday. She elevated even my least favorite song of hers “Head of The Love Club” by transitioning out of one of my favorites, “Little Vampire”. She looped an electric guitar chord and let the grinding note repeat itself as she casually strolled back, set down her guitar, sipped some water, then approached the mic again to deliver a great vocal performance. I always found the grungy guitar repetition to be overbearing on the studio version, but performed live, where the instruments are generally tuned evenly, it is easier to digest; it was an impressive adjustment. Hänlyn is definitely the most experienced performer of the bill. While Natsuma entertained with witty moments and an explanation of the loop pedal and Adelaide stood in with an angsty but comfortable energy, Hänlyn dominated the stage. She conversed briefly with a guitar nerd in the audience, casually dissed LA, and used the mic as a prop to add to her performances. She kept the audience entertained from the moment she stepped on stage until the post-show greeting line disbanded. I’ve never been more confident in an artist’s future than Gretel Hänlyn. She has a unique, yet well-established, sound. She’s a comfortable performer. She’s appeared at Pitchfork London, Pitchfork Paris, Green Man, Wilderness, and Coachella. Plus, she’s 20 years old. What more could you ask for? I’ve heard the approaching releases, I’ve seen the live show, I’ve reviewed her newest EP. I’m absolutely certain that you should keep an eye and ear on Gretel Hänlyn. Stream her music, buy her vinyl, and go to her shows. You won’t be sorry.

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

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.

MUSICAL MATCHMAKER VOL. 1 3/26/24 BY: IAN SHERRY On March 24, 2023, Danny Brown and JPEGMAFIA released SCARING THE HOES , and out of my newfound obsession with Danny Brown’s collaborative potential, a series is born. Allow me to speak on everyone’s behalf for a moment. We all have artists we’d like to see work together, or collaborations we believe would’ve changed the musical landscape as we know it today. Who wouldn’t want to see Kendrick Lamar put out an album with his little cousin Baby Keem , and who wouldn’t have wanted a full LP from David Bowie and Queen . This series is an opportunity for us to explore what we believe could be or should’ve been, and we’re starting with Danny Brown. Collaborative albums are one of the music industry’s greatest treats. Diversified groups of listeners get new material from their favorite artists while becoming more familiar with someone new. In the very best instances, both artists gain fans, fans gain good music from both artists, and a whole world of future collaborations, connections, and stylistic innovation reveals itself. From bands adding a key sound-altering member for a project, like Michael McDonald with Steely Dan , to established artists combining their unique sounds, like Danny Brown and JPEGMAFIA, the best artists find ways to make each other better. SCARING THE HOES was a project long-rumored on the internet and their combined fanbases. A crossover between two of the most prolific alternative hip-hop artists of this active generation is bound to receive attention, after all. Brown and Peggy didn’t disappoint. They each brought their signature senses of humor, unique rhyming styles, and studio skills. The result is one of the best produced, thematically strong, witty, and entertaining albums of last year. For me, it spawned a new interest: Danny Brown’s ability to collaborate. In all of my Danny Brown solo listening (and I’ve heard it all, to my knowledge), I never imagined that he could fully exist as himself outside of his own projects. While he delivers solid features on a yearly basis, he’s always felt strongest on beats catered to himself by himself, when he has complete creative control. However, on SCARING THE HOES, it's Brown who does most of the bending. While both MCs prefer to exist in sonic chaos, JPEGMAFIA relies on it. His rhythmically abnormal cadence doesn’t lend itself as kindly to more traditional hip-hop beats. Brown can go either way. As an artist who often buries or alters traditional beats underneath his more cluttered soundscapes, he can rap in any pocket without relying on, or being limited by, his production. So, what do I do when an artist has such obvious collaborative prowess, like Danny Brown? I dream up new collabs. Welcome to Musical Matchmaker Vol. 1. Recently, on a tip from a friend, I was listening to Bruiser Wolf , another artist involved in Danny Brown’s Detroit alt-hip-hop scene. He, unlike his pal Danny, sticks to pretty conventional production. It was in their scattered collaborations and work together in Bruiser Brigade , that finally pointed to what I really want from a Danny Brown collab: cleaner production. 1. Danny MF BROWN Well yeah, who wouldn’t go well with MF DOOM ? A fair point, and the answer is nobody (or maybe Elvis), but this is an intentional selection. Danny Brown, despite not solely producing his beats since early mixtapes, has developed an individually recognizable sound. His vocal expertise allows him to exist in a permanent state of semi-chaos, with projects like XXX and Atrocity Exhibition leading the charge, however even when his sound is less cluttered, orderliness isn’t his strong suit. MF DOOM is, genres aside, one of the greatest producers of all time. Few artists inject as much personality into their instrumentals as DOOM. In fact, it's his zany intro/outros and perfectly off-center sample-work that are responsible for his unprecedented notoriety as an artist in an alternative space. What draws me to DOOM in this particular instance, however, is one of the key ingredients Danny Brown has yet to fully incorporate into his own work: cleanliness. MF DOOM’s production, despite its abstract and cluttered nature on the surface, is just as clean and organized as today’s most prominent pop-rap producers. Let me take you under the hood. Given, DOOM’s catalog is expansive enough to nitpick until your nitpicking appetite is satisfied completely, he generally thrives in clean contrasts. Take “Doomsday” ; by sampling Sade’s “Kiss of Life” , he introduces the very essence of smooth, under which he layers a semi-complex drum hook that dictates a much quicker tempo than the original sample. In addition to the sharpness of the drums he interjects occasional record scratches, cuts, and a scattering of extremely brief samples. All of these choices come together to achieve a perfectly balanced texture, as well as a fairly neutral base to rap overtop. As far as I’m concerned, that level of production expertise is exactly what Danny Brown needs, because while he’s collaborated with plenty of top-tier producers, that solid base that DOOM creates is unrivaled. Not to mention, the lyrical collaboration between the two would be an absolute dream for any fan of unique deliveries and lyrics that toe the line between genius and nonsense. 2. Ol’ Dirty Brown Ol’ Dirty Bastard is one of the greatest performative rappers of all time. So is Danny Brown. See where I’m going with this? There are endless aspects to good performative rapping, and endless combinations in which either of these artists would thrive, but I believe their particular strengths overlap on the highest level. Firstly, ODB’s background with Wu Tang and the NYC posse rap scene is priceless when it comes to collaboration. Manufacturing verses that stand apart from anyone else on the song is a skill, and one that elevated ODB in his prime. When other members of the Wu Tang Clan’s styles had more of a tendency to blend together, especially his cousins RZA and GZA , Ol’ Dirty Bastard cultivated one of the most recognizable deliveries ever. His ability to exist as himself in a collective space is rivaled by very few, and Danny Brown is on that short list of competition. Listen to Brown’s verse on A$AP Rocky’s “1 Train” or Bruiser Wolf’s “2 Bad” (they’re the same sample), and notice how clearly he stands apart. Then compare that to ODB’s “Intoxicated” ”; you might notice a similar phenomenon. When these two MCs are turned loose on more simplistic beats and have room to deliver an uninhibited performance, they’re untouchable. The ability to work as individuals while finding a shared stylistic sweet spot has elevated legendary hip-hop duos like Outkast and Black Star . Ol’ Dirty Brown shares a lot of strengths with those legendary groups, from similar content and life experiences (street life and addiction) to similar performative styles. Their breath control and borderline cartoonish deliveries would work well together in my mind, which leaves just one question mark. What are they rapping on? As much as I’d love to hear ODB work into contemporary Danny Brown production, that doesn’t feel like a realistic adjustment for the 90s MC. Instead I’d look back to Brown’s earlier work. On Hot Soup especially, you can find more drum-forward production, reminiscent of the boom-bap sound, which ODB would’ve been much more accustomed to. From there, a knowledgeable producer would be wise to reconstruct Brown’s typical sample-work, which normally rides overtop or in stride with the verse. Dropping it in the mix so that the vocals take precedent would allow for the duo’s performative skills to dominate the audience. It would also loosen up the vocal pocket and allow the less frequent samples to take up a larger role in the structure of the song, marking transitions between consecutive verses or choruses. The result, theoretically, would be two of the strongest rappers in their given generations spitting on production that combines signature aspects of their own styles and eras. All of that combined with their ability to exaggerate syllables, which dictates pace regardless of the actual word quantity, Ol’ Dirty Brown would be the perfect lyrical storm, and one of the finest live shows in hip-hop history. Danny Brown has one of the most unique skill-sets in music today. His album with JPEGMAFIA was one of the highest quality releases of last year, but it was not his collaborative ceiling. He is the most versatile rapper in music right now, making him the ideal collaborator. His willingness to experiment is evidenced in his own work as well as his scattered features, from Euro-electronic producers like Paul White to genre-bending artists like Quadeca . Danny Brown will continue to innovate as long as he makes music, and while there may be no living artist with whom he can strike the perfect collaborative balance, if there is, he’ll find them.

WALK WITH ME 8/13/2023 BY: IAN SHERRY Walk with me for a moment. Or rather, jump, with me, into a world where music is nonverbal. There are no vocals. Conversations discussing the greatest musicians of all time don’t include Prince or Aretha Franklin. Instead they focus on the giants of the ‘classical’ music era or the pioneers of Jazz. Genres like rock and roll or hip hop, genres which rely on a balance between instrumental and vocal rhythm, don’t exist. At least they don’t exist as we know them. Celine Dion works at a coffee shop, Marvin Gaye has recently taken a step back from his lengthy yet local career as an activist for civil liberties in the greater Washington D.C. area. You’ve n ever heard of Elvis Presley and you don’t need to have an opinion on him. Rodriguez was able to retire just a few years earlier from his factory job on Detroit’s west side and Marshall Mathers’ relationship with his mother withered to an uneventful conclusion at the hands of bitter yet mild-mannered and mutual avoidance. I could go on. You love music, as you should. It may be at the center of your life. You might listen to it every night with your family over dinner, or as you work through your days. Maybe it puts you to sleep every night or wakes you every morning. It might perfectly encapsulate a feeling you can’t otherwise explain, or make you feel ways nothing else does. You might even go as far as to say it's the most important thing in your life, that if you couldn’t hear you couldn’t go on. And that may be true. But even then, you would have no idea what you’re missing. It’s a crazy thought right? Vocals are an intrinsic part of what we know as music. Not all of it, but at this point, to me, it’s more noticeable when a track doesn’t have vocals than the reverse. There’s no point in attempting to pinpoint the invention of ‘singing’ as we know it. Instead, I offer the assumption that it can be traced back to before the human race reached its current genetic resting place. It’s inseparable from the human experience. Lyrics are responsible for the basis of much of the world’s shared culture, and the entirety of old-school educators’ beloved Classics Department. (I’m a fan too, don't get me wrong). Lyrics are not only a musical luxury, they are a mankind essential. They tell stories, plural. They have their own message (ideally), but beneath that they tell the story of whichever world and worldview birthed them. Whether it be a world of po litical turmoil, a world of prosperity, a world of famine or economic depression, a world of emotional depression, or a world seen through the eyes of love. This world is delivered through the filtered consciousness of the writer on paper, then again through the voice of the performer. Whether it be the same person or not, there are several stops on the road to the audience’s ears, but all trace back to their perception. Their point of view. Instrumental arrangements can deliver excitement, composure, emotion, and co untless other equally important feelings. But, one thing they simply cannot deliver is a point of view. This makes the most important job of the vocalist to deliver that exactly. A point of view. Otherwise, you’re doing nothing a powerful bassline or horn solo couldn’t deliver in its own right. Otherwise your voice is no more than an instrument, one with organic flaws and inconsistencies that Robert Cray’s guitar and Dizzy Gillespie’s trumpet don’t possess. Those flaws are less justifiable when the innately human component, that is perspective, is absent. This brings me to my daily union-supplied diss: Mac DeMarco. Believe it or not, I value my time on God’s greenish Earth, yet I still decided to listen to 9 hours and 30 minutes of Mac DeMarco. I did so with the intent of writing a review on his lengthy 2023 album, but a day later I was so severely mentally and emotionally beaten I withdrew in an attempt to salvage faith in mankind. Could I have written a lengthy Applebee’s Yelp-style revi ew? Yes. Could I turn this into that in an instant? Yes. But, because this is a sort of love letter to music, like that text you send your friend at 3:00 that is unintentionally received as concerning instead of wholesome, I’ll be prompt. Mac DeMarco barely says words, and when he does, they add nothing lyrically and little to nothing rhythmically. It’s neither helpful nor welcome in my book. No thank you Mac. However, it does make me appreciate real vocalists. Take D’Angelo, and I’m thinking Voodoo specifically. His best album, in my opinion, might as well be an instructional manual for what Mac DeMarco attempted to assemble without unboxing the directions. In the year 2000, aided by Questlove on Drums and a long list of heavy-hitting studio artists across hip hop, jazz, and r&B, D’Angelo headed the production for his brand new atypical r&b sound. Voodoo focuses almost exclusively on finding and holding grooves. Much of the time, the vocals come across as a sonic afterthought, there to decorate the sound. (“Untitled (How Does It Feel)” is the exception). However, the lyrics don’t get a break just because they aren’t at the musical forefront. There is no better example than “Devil’s Pie” which I believe to be one of the best songs of this young century. Instead of attempting to go in depth at the risk of failing to do D’Angelo justice, I’ll opt to encourage you to, please, listen for yourself. While you’re listening, if unpacking lyrics isn’t your jam (music pun), you could imagine D’Angelo is the first person you’ve ever heard sing over what you previously knew as music. Imagine how you’d feel as the worlds of poetry and music collide. Imagine the weight this new combination might carry. You could even compare it to any track of Mac DeMarco’s musical boot camp or perhaps your favorite instrumental tracks. The difference is palpable, because good vocals add something that no other instrument can: a point of view. Thanks . P.S. Here is a short, semi-random, list of songs I consider to have perfect vocal performances. “Hope She’ll Be Happier” , Bill Withers “Change” , Big Thief “Pink Matter” , Frank Ocean feat. Andre 3000 “Save The Children” , Marvin Gaye “Nude” , Radiohead “Never Dreamed You’d Leave In Summer” . Stevie Wonder “Heaven - Live” , Talking Heads “That Feeling” , Durand Jones

Inspecting Sabrina Carpenter By Ian Sherry 9/10/2025 On August 29th, 2025, Sabrina Carpenter released Man’s Best Friend. With her first record since reaching the pinnacle of pop stardom, Carpenter solidified an already-hardening opinion in the mind of this music fan. Sabrina Carpenter is the closest thing American pop music has to a real-life Powerpuff Girl. When most kids are still learning to tie their shoes at the age of 15 (or was that just me?) Carpenter was priming herself for a rise to fame. Her natural mix of sugar, spice, and espresso soon came into contact with the infamous Chemical X (Disney channel), and out burst the perfect pop star, a flawless celebrity figure. As far as I can tell, and Man’s Best Friend only made me more certain, there’s very little that makes Carpenter’s music special, aside from Carpenter herself. What I mean is this: her tendency towards generic pop-of-the-moment places her performative persona at the center of attention – and what a persona it is. Carpenter is reportedly a hard worker, and she’s been on a disciplined grind for some time now. Long before Sabrina gained serious notoriety as a singer, clips of her concerts had been surfacing on social media. All of them (speaking for my own algorithm here) showcased her personality via shenanigans, while featuring very few, if any musical moments. That is the Sabrina Carpenter experience. The product is the person performing the piece, not the piece itself. Let’s see what Sabrina is selling us this time around. First, the producer combination of John Ryan and (who else but) Jack Antonoff ensures a certain style of music. The pop-fitting formula featured by this chart-pounding-paring reliably features drum machine beats that punch up into the midrange, a slew of looped strings which harmonize below the vocals, and a variety of synths that build later in songs to amp up the energy, ornamentation, and sonic abundance (of which there’s never much). Rarely will these albums feature notable session musicians aside from the headlining artist or band members. That’s why it’s a noticeable gimmick when Carpenter welcomes a fleeting fiddle solo on track 1, “Manchild.” The nod to middle America is a fitting on a tune that begins the album-long painting of a particular brand of mama’s boy. Listen to the record all the way through and you’ll know what I mean. Here are some terms to keep in mind: physical and mental unavailability, weaponized incompetence, emotional immaturity, and resignation. Now let me give you a few of Sabrina Carpenter’s own: “You said your phone was broken, just forgot to charge it - Whole outfit you're wearing, God, I hope it's ironic - Did you just say you're finished? Didn't know we started - It's all just so familiar, baby, what do you call it? Stupid - Or is it slow? Maybe it's useless? But there's a cuter word for it, I know - Man-child .” And now the bridge, “Oh, I like my boys playing hard to get - And I like my men all incompetent - And I swear they choose me, I'm not choosing them .” Suffice to say, it was the lead single for a reason, and it’s not such a bad song either. Allow me to usher you along to track 5, “We Almost Broke Up Again Last Night.” A pop ballad straight from Swift and Antonoff’s shared California Closet, Carpenter gives us the next best glimpse at her mind in love. The legendary pop pairing's success over recent years has made Antonoff the top-of-mind landing spot for any pop star in search of a producer. Carpenter fits the Swift-formed mold perfectly, but where the two Pennsylvanian Antonoff collaborators differ is their perceivable attitudes ‘in love’. While Taylor Swift believers are often criticized for living in a feminist fantasy land of their mother’s making, Carpenter airs on the side of comedically exasperated realism. Swift has always brought an uplifting, rebellious, independent attitude to her music, even when the subject matter isn’t pleasant. Carpenter does some of those things, but contrasts with the industry titan in what I call her resignation to the bullshit. “Gave me his whole heart, then I gave him (noggin),” is a telling lyric to me. I doubt I’m the first and unfortunately, I won’t be the last to break this news: the average American male (but not just males) doesn’t digest and regurgitate their emotions in a fashion that is conducive to the relationship’s need for empathetic discourse, and the resulting dumping of pent-up emotion can clutter the Love Train’s tracks. Resignation to that, expecting nothing more from an entire gender of the world’s apex species, is a bit disappointing in my mind. But where are the parents?! That’s what Sabrina Carpenter demands to know on the following track. “Nobody’s Son” is a well-articulated, heartbroken rant that details being dumped by a guy who “discovered self-control this week.” The bridge digs even further into our previous subject matter as she turns the blame (which never seems to quite land on the son in question) onto his mother. “That boy is corrupt – Could you raise him to love me, maybe? He sure fucked me up – And, yes, I’m talkin’ bout your baby.” Maybe it's my sensitivity to the idea of my mom getting blamed for my nonsense, but I couldn’t stop finding issues with this song! I find the poppy orchestral chorus cheap (don’t make me think about Frozen) and the way she jams “emoshnally” into 4 syllables to fit the bar makes my skin crawl (I used a synonym for emotionally a few paragraphs ago - it can be done). The next track found redemption in my eyes, both in sentiment and sound. “Never Getting Laid” is refreshing; its greater bass presence and restraint with the myriad of strings, which are often uncharacteristically blaring on this record by Antonoff standards, allow for her vocals to float instead of cut through. The dreamy vibe is intentional as it pairs perfectly with the passive aggression Carpenter spitfires with lyrics like “Baby, I'm not angry - Love you just the same - I just hope you get agoraphobia someday - And all your days are sunny -From your windowpane - Wish you a lifetime full of happiness - And a forever of never getting laid .” It even has a sweet lil outro. At least anger is one of the stages of grief (blaming the mother isn’t even bargaining). “Never Getting Laid” for the win. “When Did You Get Hot?” is next in line. Carpenter goes for an Ariana Grande thing here, but I don’t need this song from anybody. “Go Go Juice” – not my cup of tea. “Don’t Worry I’ll Make You Worry” – a snooze. Luckily, the home stretch kicks off with “House Tour.” This throbbing pop-funk bop has the magic captured at times by late model Justin Timberlake but most prominently by Bruno Mars. Laced with clever wordplay, Carpenter flaunts her world’s best euphemism game as she prances atop the album’s top energy track. “Goodbye” is the perfect name for a last track! And that’s not the only reason Man’s Best Friend ends on a positive note. This spin on a breakup song features an empowered Carpenter pushing off. She soars atop a triumphant instrumental, nailing the ABBA sound before dipping shamelessly into Sgt. Pepper’s bag of tricks to find her last bridge. It builds, and Carpenter opens up her lungs surrounded by a chorus of herself to put a confident stamp on this final track. How does she sing that well with her tongue in her cheek? Sabrina Carpenter’s 2025 release is the typically mixed bag major pop labels have standardized over the last 20 years (bring back Brittney). I found her songwriting effective, the album’s narrative easy to follow, and the instrumentals largely underwhelming. I believe that Carpenter makes music to be performed live – it shows in her lyrical designs, the number of verses meant for speak-singing. She is a pop star. She is the product. She knows what she’s doing. But does she know what she’s doing? When Sabrina Carpenter showcases sonically bland music before the masses, does she consider that it will be her persona and way of being that is idolized? If Carpenter wanted to sound like ABBA, to pass along one of her beloved influences, she could. She passes along a character. Perfectly acceptable, she’s not the only one, and she’s not near the worst. But what does this character preach? I’ve danced around the edge of enough sensitive subjects; I’m glad to have saved this simple point to close my argument. If it hasn’t already occurred to you, glance at the album cover and think about what that name means. Sabrina Carpenter won’t be stained by a suggestive album cover, and its nothing in the piles of pseudo-smut the music industry has to offer. Years from now it’ll likely be the felicitous cover of the Bonus Track Edition people click most often. But legacy doesn’t fade. Sabrina Carpenter has control of hers, an opportunity so many women have gone without. With her chance, Betty Davis chose to be a “Nasty Gal,” Chaka Khan chose to be Every Woman, Brittney Spears chose to be “Toxic.” I hope Ms. Carpenter’s final choice is not to be- Man’s Best Friend is a 6.3.