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

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.

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

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

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.

Before The World Blows BY IAN THOMAS SHERRY 9/18/2026 On August 28, in cahoots with The Alchemist, Erykah Badu released her first studio album in 16 years, Before The World Blows . On September 11, 2026, I had the pleasure of seeing the duo live. SETTING THE STAGE It’s been a decade since Ms. Badu’s cell phone-centered concept EP, But You Caint Use My Phone (’16), and her digitimaterial focus has only sharpened in the time since (yes, I made that word up). If you’re lucky enough to see ‘The Abby & Al Experience’ live, like I have, you’d immediately see what I mean. The set consisted of two beds on the far right and left connected by a circular cushion that stretched the back perimeter of the stage, all white, kinda freaky. Two spotlights switch on, and there they are – Abby n Al in their respective beds, Erykah Badu outfitted in red heels, a white trench coat, and a blonde wig, which she’d chuck, and The Alchemist in the boyish black hoodie – speaking to each other ‘on the phone,’ hatching a plan. Quickly, The Alchemist retreated to the platform hidden at the top of the set beside his dark-dressing-DJ counterparts, and the beats began. SOUND REASONING The lines between Abby and Al go back to a wannabe Alchemist selling weed to Badu’s mentor and career-breaker D’Angelo and follow the gyre of neo soul to its current resting place, in the palms of women like Ms. Badu. Her hands have been anything but idle in the years since soul’s sound slipped away. If you caught the two-part New AmErykah series (’08, ’10), or her last LP, you’ll notice Badu’s increased interest in digital hip-hop production. Each record was en vogue, impressive for an aging genre-crossing solo artist, but each aged quickly. Met with the task of creating an updated, lasting product and continually interested in marrying analog hip-hop and modern digital production, Abby went to Al. THE GOODS They played the album in order (with bonus tracks interwoven), starting with the ethereal (Track 1) “Echoes.” As the album chimes and whirs to life, Erykah Badu’s singular aesthetic descends upon this decade of music. Lyrically, she comes out muthafuckin firing: “Ah, if we can't agree on the God we pick / Then, my God / Let's at least agree on this snare and kick / (Red, yellow, black, white, or brown) / Oh, if you can't love the one you with / Ah, then you ain't her God, mm / (Red, yellow, black, white, or brown) / Ah, John Lennon said / “They treat women like the n- of the world,” yes, he did / (So watch how you trеat your girl) / Ah, 'cause the future looking odd thеse days That's on Tyler, Frank, and Earl .” This opening lyrical rampage is more musically dynamic than your Spotify streaming quality can capture; but live, as the synths soared, beat lurched, and Badu wailed through her autotune I was met with a bombastic opening track (only rivaled by Action Bronson’s “Live From The Moon” in my concert-going experience). 7 minutes later it gives way to (Track 2) “I Just Play A Part.” Initially my favorite, and certainly the most climactic song on the record, the first of two Westside Gunn features consists of purely gun sounds for effect as the Clintonian techneo anthem roars to life. Badu picks a cadence and rolls with it for two minutes, until she runs out of bars and resorts to a scream solo that rips at the fabric of the track until it splits and the beat switches for DJ Creole Princess to spit a silky verse. (Track 4) “Witch Doctor” was this record’s lead single and the first look at Abby and Al’s sound. The lurching bassline’s rumblin nicely backs Badu’s mumblin and the simple but syncopated melody allows the entire track to swing in cadence with Badu’s words, before giving way to a hand drum solo which she performed alone at center stage to the crowd’s excitement. The stop and go effect of “Witch Doctor” was something to behold live. The crowd, including myself, floated entranced by her witchly wordplay, and by the end I knew all the lyrics. The sentimental being that I am, (Track 6) “Next 2 U,” which samples Mobb Deep’s “The Realest,” plucked my heartstrings on first listen, and has since burned itself into my brain. “I-IIIIIII wanna smoke blunts with you” too Erykah. (Track 7) “Love Me Not” details the uncertain progression of a relationship before giving way to a tape of Ms. Badu getting her booty waxed – thrilling stuff really – but it was easy to see why she chose to go a different direction for this portion of the show. In place of Track 7, The Alchemist descended to perform a medley of “Life Is Beautiful” and “Hold You Down” (both covers of originals he produced). FLASHBACK When Al was done, attention returned to Abby and her soundboard at center stage. She starts, 'You know, they say 90s babies were born with an irregular heartbeat… and it sounds like this,' - dundun duuuun, dundun duuuun – the first notes of the iconic, immediately recognized, “On & On.” As the crowd revved to life, Erykah Badu, filling with the energy and spirit of her youth as it poured out of the crowd back into her, began to deliver by far her most authoritative, studio-similar, and frankly legendary pair of performances of the night as she medleyed into “Didn’t Ya Know” with ease. When I saw Erykah Badu tour Mama’s Gun a year ago, in the climactic confines of the Fox Theater, she delivered every individual performance with the aforementioned moxie. Not only did this year’s venue, Freedom Hill, lack any sonic containment for her vocals, this year’s album doesn’t feature any such performances. To avoid belaboring my point, allow me to state with absolute certainty: Erykah Badu is 55 years old and holding back (no doubt conserving energy for the arrival of aliens). Badu returned to the tracklist and concluded her flashback with a mashup of (Track 8) “Breezy” (the album’s toughest listen) and “Bennie And The Jets” for the concert’s most surprisingly fun moment. (Track 9) “Abracadabra,” is a good interlude. (Track 10) “To The Moon (Plan C)” features Steve Lacy, who brings his sound to Badu’s record with the same grace she visits his newest release Oh Yeah? The three-way fusion between the sounds of The Alchemist, Badu, and Lacy, all of which are unique and individually decipherable, ought to be an intriguing listen for any music fan. Well-grouped features, Thundercat is next. (Track 11) “They Ain’t You” isn’t the album’s most exhilarating track, but the transition between Lacy’s sound and Thundercat’s bass is clever, but it drags on as TC tracks tend to do. (Track 12) “What The People Say (Apostle 1)” picks up the pace and Badu shakes off the mumbles, ramping up into the fastest-paced rap performance (Track 13) “Hot BiBi (Apostle 2).” Another well-intentioned pairing, but the best bars had yet to come. (Track 14) “No I.D.” captures a true freestyle feel as Badu names legendary DJs over the most quintessential Alchemist beat of the record. It was fitting then, to feature Westside Gunn for the second time, laying viscous flexes over the creepy-crawly instrumental and Erykah Badu’s sweet hook “Ain't nobody fuckin' with the K-I-D (No) / Big ball bangin', need no ID (Doot-doot-doot-doot-doot, ah) / I'ma get a beat from No I.D. (Mm, woo) / Ain't nobody fuckin' with the K-I-D (Yeah) / If Alchemist don't come through for me / I'ma get a beat from No I.D. (Woo).” That’s taste folks. (Track 15) “I Know That Man” mutters Earl Sweatshirt, before stating blankly atop the beatdrop “Everything is not a joke,” at the beginning of the album’s best verse over The Alchemist’s most emotionally charged beat only to give way to this chorus on gospel-style-repeat: “I, wanna be seen / as good / in the eyes of that which made us.” It brings tears to my eyes, even in listening to write this article. Now for the final time, check this shit out: “Too much dopamine can make a man mean / Dimethyltryptamine make a man dream / Ozempic and promethazine make a man lean / Mars' daddy Jay Elec', make a bitch real mean / Turn into a meme, make a big scene / Broadcast it on the whole block, live from the black box / Phone call, liberation or entrapment? / Mercury in retrograde, at midnight all was well / But suddenly the box became engulfed with a beam of light / Somebody gettin' some pussy, tonight.” Is your jaw on the floor? Mine was the first time I heard Ms. Badu rattle this off for a teaser at last year’s show, and so were the jaws of any fan who hadn’t heard (Track 16) “Black Box” before last Friday’s concert. Oh, and the second verse is just as good, so give it a listen and yours may be too. My name is Ian Thomas Sherry, but I’m Mr. Badu if she’ll have me. Before The World Blows is an 8.9.

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

Missed One: Two Star & The Dream Police By Ian Sherry 1/24/2025 On February 9, 2024 Mk.gee released Two Star & The Dream Police . Well, it seems bound to happen every year: I get to the end of my year’s top albums list and post it, then, just as relief begins to set in, it's washed away as I inevitably discover that I missed one. Hivemind , a Detroit-area-based YouTube channel, was this year’s bearer of bad news. As Riley, Graydon, and DJ Grant made their way through their 10 favorite records of the year, several selections appeared on more than one of their lists. One particular record stood out above the rest, not only because of the enticing descriptions but because of my complete unfamiliarity with the artist. I knew, at that point, that I had no choice but to listen to Mk.gee’s Two Star & The Dream Police , and this final 2024 LP did not disappoint. Phil Collins , Prince , and The Police . Those are the artists they likened to Mk.gee - an allegedly tasteful 80s revivalist – and all 3 legends are incredibly talented, loved, and 100% absent from track 1. “New Low” instead establishes Mk.gee’s emo/electronic sensibilities, delving into ambient genreless production that is intentionally mixed overtop the vocals. As the song builds, progressing briefly and effortlessly as most tracks on this record do, it embodies the palette in which Mk.gee brings music to life. From there, he steps further and further out of the shadows, introducing some safe rhythmic guitar performances and lighter, more sonically prominent vocals across tracks 2 & 3, before dropping the first in a healthy stash of standout songs considering the concise 33-minute runtime. Track 4, “DNM” , begins by giving a quick taste of his soon-to-be-signature scratchy electric guitar and a couple crisp keyboard notes, before stopping and restarting with a full launch into one of the album's best tracks. His vocals are confident and have a greater stylistic and toned range than I had imagined following the first song. That allows him to easily step into this peppy alternative tune while maintaining a firm grip on the sound itself with his rasping guitar in the background. Two Star & The Dream Police is fantastic for a lot of reasons, but the flow is one I’d like to highlight now. When you have an artist who can sing with the soulful tone of today’s inclusive r&b stylings on track 5, then turn around and deliver higher-register nostalgia-heavy vocals reminiscent of 2010s indie-pop on track 6, all without deviating whatsoever from the style he’s commanding, you get excellent flow. His track-to-track versatility sustains the listener’s interest while remaining comfortably within his signature sound. The result was this: I finished the album and immediately listened a 2nd time, then a 3rd, and a 4th. Obsessive? Sure, but I only obsess when it is absolutely warranted – Prince for instance. That’s because ‘fans’ at large do not appreciate, much less understand the man and his music. It’s a shame. So, when I heard Riley Savage drop his name I took note, and when “Candy” began on the heels of a very Prince/MJ-like transition I was immediately buckled in. This song is more than an impersonation - a mimicry born of surface-level understanding. Instead, it’s a musically legitimate adaptation of Prince’s iconic style lying plain as day within Mk.gee’s contemporary sound, from the lyrics, vocal progressions, and chorus structure to the teasing and eventually complete exhibit of his versatile yet distinct guitar in the form of a classic Prince solo. Simply put, it is an impressive product of comprehension and reinvention. When Mk.gee’s chunky electric guitar blurts out in the middle of vocally focused portions of the song it calls the listener’s attention (duh), which perfectly paves the way for it to bellyflop with the grace of a brick into whichever instrumental opportunity it wishes, creating a moment every time. "Candy" is not the only example of that technique, nor is it the only occasion where Mk.gee revitalizes a lost sound - the guys at Hivemind picked up on a few but I’d tweak their attributions slightly. In addition/place of Phil Collins, Peter Gabriel surges to mind on the 8th track “I Want” and rather than The Police, who are fully present on his latest single “ROCKMAN” , my dad wisely pointed to Sting ’s solo work on the last track “Dream Police” . Each influence was tastefully portrayed and integrated into the sound, and while I can’t speak to his thought process or the direction he’ll take his talents, his evident willingness to learn excites me most. I say that because there’s still exploration to be done. Two Star & The Dream Police is a breakout album. It introduces Mk.gee more capably than anything he’d released prior, but it left room for growth. The most crucial area in which I’ll be seeking improvement on his next release is song length. If you have a musical highpoint in mind, a moment where all the pieces of the song unite perfectly, save it for the end! For the length of the album, Mk.gee found moments that felt climax-worthy given the scale of each given track. However, with just 3 songs eclipsing the 3-minute mark, the payoff is given up too easily. If you, the artist, are comfortable building a song, you can stretch that process across 4 minutes rather than 2 giving the listener more time to sink into the track and yourself more structural, instrumental, and performative freedom. Taking the strongest features of what you’ve imagined and creating a more durable experience that’s ultimately more fulfilling, I’d imagine, is a difficult skill to hone. It would take confidence, experience, artistic maturity, and pure ability. Mk.gee is definitely one of the able. I could spend the conclusion of this review harping on other areas of improvement, perhaps vocal ambitions or rounding out the mix on the instrumental side, but the truth is Mk.gee showed he can be a centerpiece vocalist on “Alesis” and bulked up instrumentals for a fuller sound in instances across the record. So, now it’s just a matter of waiting, listening, and hoping we get more of it - more great music. Two Star & The Dream Police is a 8.3 .

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

Before The World Blows BY IAN THOMAS SHERRY 9/18/2026 On August 28, in cahoots with The Alchemist, Erykah Badu released her first studio album in 16 years, Before The World Blows . On September 11, 2026, I had the pleasure of seeing the duo live. SETTING THE STAGE It’s been a decade since Ms. Badu’s cell phone-centered concept EP, But You Caint Use My Phone (’16), and her digitimaterial focus has only sharpened in the time since (yes, I made that word up). If you’re lucky enough to see ‘The Abby & Al Experience’ live, like I have, you’d immediately see what I mean. The set consisted of two beds on the far right and left connected by a circular cushion that stretched the back perimeter of the stage, all white, kinda freaky. Two spotlights switch on, and there they are – Abby n Al in their respective beds, Erykah Badu outfitted in red heels, a white trench coat, and a blonde wig, which she’d chuck, and The Alchemist in the boyish black hoodie – speaking to each other ‘on the phone,’ hatching a plan. Quickly, The Alchemist retreated to the platform hidden at the top of the set beside his dark-dressing-DJ counterparts, and the beats began. SOUND REASONING The lines between Abby and Al go back to a wannabe Alchemist selling weed to Badu’s mentor and career-breaker D’Angelo and follow the gyre of neo soul to its current resting place, in the palms of women like Ms. Badu. Her hands have been anything but idle in the years since soul’s sound slipped away. If you caught the two-part New AmErykah series (’08, ’10), or her last LP, you’ll notice Badu’s increased interest in digital hip-hop production. Each record was en vogue, impressive for an aging genre-crossing solo artist, but each aged quickly. Met with the task of creating an updated, lasting product and continually interested in marrying analog hip-hop and modern digital production, Abby went to Al. THE GOODS They played the album in order (with bonus tracks interwoven), starting with the ethereal (Track 1) “Echoes.” As the album chimes and whirs to life, Erykah Badu’s singular aesthetic descends upon this decade of music. Lyrically, she comes out muthafuckin firing: “Ah, if we can't agree on the God we pick / Then, my God / Let's at least agree on this snare and kick / (Red, yellow, black, white, or brown) / Oh, if you can't love the one you with / Ah, then you ain't her God, mm / (Red, yellow, black, white, or brown) / Ah, John Lennon said / “They treat women like the n- of the world,” yes, he did / (So watch how you trеat your girl) / Ah, 'cause the future looking odd thеse days That's on Tyler, Frank, and Earl .” This opening lyrical rampage is more musically dynamic than your Spotify streaming quality can capture; but live, as the synths soared, beat lurched, and Badu wailed through her autotune I was met with a bombastic opening track (only rivaled by Action Bronson’s “Live From The Moon” in my concert-going experience). 7 minutes later it gives way to (Track 2) “I Just Play A Part.” Initially my favorite, and certainly the most climactic song on the record, the first of two Westside Gunn features consists of purely gun sounds for effect as the Clintonian techneo anthem roars to life. Badu picks a cadence and rolls with it for two minutes, until she runs out of bars and resorts to a scream solo that rips at the fabric of the track until it splits and the beat switches for DJ Creole Princess to spit a silky verse. (Track 4) “Witch Doctor” was this record’s lead single and the first look at Abby and Al’s sound. The lurching bassline’s rumblin nicely backs Badu’s mumblin and the simple but syncopated melody allows the entire track to swing in cadence with Badu’s words, before giving way to a hand drum solo which she performed alone at center stage to the crowd’s excitement. The stop and go effect of “Witch Doctor” was something to behold live. The crowd, including myself, floated entranced by her witchly wordplay, and by the end I knew all the lyrics. The sentimental being that I am, (Track 6) “Next 2 U,” which samples Mobb Deep’s “The Realest,” plucked my heartstrings on first listen, and has since burned itself into my brain. “I-IIIIIII wanna smoke blunts with you” too Erykah. (Track 7) “Love Me Not” details the uncertain progression of a relationship before giving way to a tape of Ms. Badu getting her booty waxed – thrilling stuff really – but it was easy to see why she chose to go a different direction for this portion of the show. In place of Track 7, The Alchemist descended to perform a medley of “Life Is Beautiful” and “Hold You Down” (both covers of originals he produced). FLASHBACK When Al was done, attention returned to Abby and her soundboard at center stage. She starts, 'You know, they say 90s babies were born with an irregular heartbeat… and it sounds like this,' - dundun duuuun, dundun duuuun – the first notes of the iconic, immediately recognized, “On & On.” As the crowd revved to life, Erykah Badu, filling with the energy and spirit of her youth as it poured out of the crowd back into her, began to deliver by far her most authoritative, studio-similar, and frankly legendary pair of performances of the night as she medleyed into “Didn’t Ya Know” with ease. When I saw Erykah Badu tour Mama’s Gun a year ago, in the climactic confines of the Fox Theater, she delivered every individual performance with the aforementioned moxie. Not only did this year’s venue, Freedom Hill, lack any sonic containment for her vocals, this year’s album doesn’t feature any such performances. To avoid belaboring my point, allow me to state with absolute certainty: Erykah Badu is 55 years old and holding back (no doubt conserving energy for the arrival of aliens). Badu returned to the tracklist and concluded her flashback with a mashup of (Track 8) “Breezy” (the album’s toughest listen) and “Bennie And The Jets” for the concert’s most surprisingly fun moment. (Track 9) “Abracadabra,” is a good interlude. (Track 10) “To The Moon (Plan C)” features Steve Lacy, who brings his sound to Badu’s record with the same grace she visits his newest release Oh Yeah? The three-way fusion between the sounds of The Alchemist, Badu, and Lacy, all of which are unique and individually decipherable, ought to be an intriguing listen for any music fan. Well-grouped features, Thundercat is next. (Track 11) “They Ain’t You” isn’t the album’s most exhilarating track, but the transition between Lacy’s sound and Thundercat’s bass is clever, but it drags on as TC tracks tend to do. (Track 12) “What The People Say (Apostle 1)” picks up the pace and Badu shakes off the mumbles, ramping up into the fastest-paced rap performance (Track 13) “Hot BiBi (Apostle 2).” Another well-intentioned pairing, but the best bars had yet to come. (Track 14) “No I.D.” captures a true freestyle feel as Badu names legendary DJs over the most quintessential Alchemist beat of the record. It was fitting then, to feature Westside Gunn for the second time, laying viscous flexes over the creepy-crawly instrumental and Erykah Badu’s sweet hook “Ain't nobody fuckin' with the K-I-D (No) / Big ball bangin', need no ID (Doot-doot-doot-doot-doot, ah) / I'ma get a beat from No I.D. (Mm, woo) / Ain't nobody fuckin' with the K-I-D (Yeah) / If Alchemist don't come through for me / I'ma get a beat from No I.D. (Woo).” That’s taste folks. (Track 15) “I Know That Man” mutters Earl Sweatshirt, before stating blankly atop the beatdrop “Everything is not a joke,” at the beginning of the album’s best verse over The Alchemist’s most emotionally charged beat only to give way to this chorus on gospel-style-repeat: “I, wanna be seen / as good / in the eyes of that which made us.” It brings tears to my eyes, even in listening to write this article. Now for the final time, check this shit out: “Too much dopamine can make a man mean / Dimethyltryptamine make a man dream / Ozempic and promethazine make a man lean / Mars' daddy Jay Elec', make a bitch real mean / Turn into a meme, make a big scene / Broadcast it on the whole block, live from the black box / Phone call, liberation or entrapment? / Mercury in retrograde, at midnight all was well / But suddenly the box became engulfed with a beam of light / Somebody gettin' some pussy, tonight.” Is your jaw on the floor? Mine was the first time I heard Ms. Badu rattle this off for a teaser at last year’s show, and so were the jaws of any fan who hadn’t heard (Track 16) “Black Box” before last Friday’s concert. Oh, and the second verse is just as good, so give it a listen and yours may be too. My name is Ian Thomas Sherry, but I’m Mr. Badu if she’ll have me. Before The World Blows is an 8.9.

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.