Interview: Kotic Couture

Photo courtesy of the artist. 

As summer nears, it's time to start putting together a playlist that grooves along with the warmer weather and longer days. There are many artists who would be happy to soundtrack your next cookout, but there is one in particular who I would like to bring your attention to at this moment, Kotic Couture. 

Kotic Couture grew up in Maryland’s Eastern Shore, but since embracing an inherent artistic drive, the young rapper has become an inseparable part of the Baltimore underground, thrilling with a buoyant flow, nostalgic beat selections, and a spectacular, gender non-conforming aesthetic. 

Kotic has a new record dropping via Babe City on June 24, called Late to the Party. Because I'm a lucky person, I've had a while to jam on it and I can confirm that it bops as hard as it vibes, balancing the braggadocious like the fiery "The Makings" with the heartfelt and vulnerable such exemplified by the mellowed out funk of "Wit Me." I'm pretty stoked for other people to be able to hear this album once it finally drops because it really is a lot of fun and will take you to some delightful places. 

To tide you over until Late to the Party's official release, you can check out this exclusive interview below.  

The following interview was conducted via email on May 5, 2022. It has been edited only slightly for the sake of clarity.

What is the vibe of your new album, Late to the Party?
To me it’s a candy bag of sounds, this project is the most reflective of me. I’m not one dimensional and neither is this project it’s (almost) everything that makes me up as a person. It’s something you can dance to a bit, ride to, and process your emotions with.

Who are the features on this album, how did you meet them, and how did they come to be on your record?
DJ AngelBaby did my Intro which was amazing because I met her when I was an intern at 92Q and years later I’ve made a name for myself and she’s been amazing to me this whole journey so it was only right to have her kick it off. 3SIDEGOOF is my only rap feature and he’s one of my favorites in the city. I'm honored that he agreed to be a part of this and he helped make “Wit Me'' one of my favorite songs. Chrissy J, Amorous Ebony, :3lON, and Wuhryn Dumas are so gifted in so many ways and I always wanted to be a singer so when I was looking for vocalists for any project I want people I love and respect to be a part of my art.

Who handled production for Late to the Party?
I did 4 of the tracks on the album, it was very important to me to have Baltimore heavily represented so I used all Baltimore producers including John Tyler, Josh Karbon, Drew Scott, Mateyo and GoodBoy.

What kind of conversations did you have with your producer(s) to make sure you got the sound right? 

Honestly the project was so all over the place so many times I just asked producers for a beat pack, and I picked what I wanted the album to sound like, I took what they gave me and build around that.

How did you begin rapping and how you did you develop the different styles of your flow? 

I used to have freestyle battles with kids on the bus ride home and then one of my brothers wanted to rap against me and I kept working cause I wanted to be better and I just never stopped. All of my favorites switch it up so much, Missy Elliott, Lefteye, early Kanye, Nicki Minaj they are all so versatile and I wanted to be in that company.

I get the sense that you have a bit of a theater background. How does your experience on stage as an actor impact your performance and presentation as a musician?
I did theater from a kid all the way up to high school, performing has always been a dream of mine. It's allowed me to be creative, so I have a voice and a space, when school ended I wanted to continue that through my music. Performing in any aspect is something that comes so natural to me and make me feel at home, so theater allowed me to create a character and performing as that character.

What era of hip hop do you feel most connected to, and why?
The 80’s and early 90’s speak to me so much, the level of the musicality, the fashion, the performances. There was as much skill as there was anything else and that still sticks out to me. Having a message and being a strong performer remind me that hip hop is a sport and I always want to be the best.

Among your many modes, you have both a solid snappy flow and a more melodious R'nB one. Why is it important to flex both your fierce and soft sides on this record? 

No one is one dimensional, I love to show the loud, brash, hectic, quick tongue version of myself. It's very much the attitude of hip hop. The R&B softer side is the person closest to who I am in reality but still as Kotic. To me that duality is important like yes, I’m loud and crazy but I’m also soft and loving. I want to give all of me whenever I can.

Self-affirmation is a big part of a lot of hip hop lyricism. How does this aspect of the form manifest on "The Makings" and why was it important for you to start the record off with this track? 

"The Makings" is reflective of when I first started rapping, emphasis on lyrics and punchlines, style and swagger. I came up in the mixtape era where the hook wasn’t the meat of the song it was the verses and what was being said whereas now, most people only care about the beat and the hook. I just wanted to show how and where I started.

Who are you inviting to ride with you on "Wit Me"?
The person who wants to have my heart haha, taking a ride with someone, talking and getting to know them there’s better way than with good music. It really sets the vibe and allows you to click.

Can you unpack the narrative of "83 Souf"? What does the song tell the listener about where you are from, and how does that story connect to where you are headed?
"83 Souf" is about growing up in the country and dreaming of the city. Dreaming of how you’re going to escape it and what you’re going to do once you get there. I think it speaks to anyone crazy enough to know exactly where they're going when nobody else can see it.

 
What part did you enjoy the most about making Late to the Party?
The growth, getting more comfortable with recording, writing and producing. I LOVE being in the studio, it’s my absolute favorite part of making music, I love the idea leaving my brain and coming into fruition.

 
What does your ideal party situation look like?
I’m actually quite boring and don’t party too much anymore haha, so a half and half and some snacks?

Are you often late to engagements in real life? If so, does this ever cause you problems?
I’m late 90% of the time for anything not involving music. My shows are the only time I’m ever on time haha

What is your recommended arrival time for a party? 10 minutes early? 10 minutes late? Arrive when the booze does?
If the party is 10-2, I’m arriving between 11:30 and 12:00 time for it to be poppin for me to greet everything then dance. I don’t drink so the booze don’t matter to me haha

 

We're heading into warmer weather across the USA, what are your top five summer jams for this year? 

Ohhh, I love this question, currently I’m loving...

Leikeli47- "LL Cool J"

Kehlani - "Wish I never"

Phony Ppl - "Why iii Love The Moon"

Chloe - "Treat Me"

SYD ft Kehlani - "Out Loud"

Is there anything you are particularly looking forward to following the release of Late to the Party?
I can’t wait to hear how people receive the record, I love hearing what the listener thinks. I also can’t wait to perform everything.

Follow Kotic Couture here. 

Find out more info on Babe City Records here. 

Album Review: Catbeats - Comfy

As if foretold by the ascension of the immortal internet totem of Fatso the Keyboard Cat, the rise of Catbeats was nearly inevitable. If you didn't know, or have been too zooted on catnip to notice, Catbeats is a Swedish electronic producer who makes old school, synthwave electronic music. It's smooth. It's simple. And it has a strong preference for compatible harmonics. Catbeat's tunes are the equivalent of a cup of chamomile tea, sipped as the sun dries the last of the morning dew. It's hard not to imagine everything being in harmony while these beats are in the air. Their latest album Comfy is very much in line with these aesthetic principles. It was recorded just prior to lockdown in the company of some friendly feline collaborators and then finessed with the pop of bubblegum-bass grooves and syrupy sax solos throughout the last two years of intermittent quarantine. These tracks are not leftovers or b-sides, though. Instead, Comfy is almost a thesis statement by the artist. A concerted display of their dedication to elevating the domestic as a refuge and a place to recharge and recalibrate when returning from the chaos of the wider world. Like any creature who has the confidence to know its limits and realizes when it needs to withdraw into the habitat of the modern home, these sounds do not hide in a place of residence as a way of segregating themselves from reality, but rather, understand the safety provided by a home as a source strength and promote health, creativity, and flexibility. The latter of which is something that I feel Catbeats does a very good job with in general, but particularly on Comfy. The beats and synth rhythms the artist curates are bold in their outlines but retain a certain malleability that reminds me of wet clay, minus the mess. Like most cats, these songs can fit themselves into any space, any crevice, and corridor with an opening wide enough for them to get their shoulders through- winding their way through the maze of life, regardless of the geometry of the passages through which they must

 pass. 

Album Review: Patrick Shiroishi - Hidemi

I stepped into Patrick Shiroishi's Hidemi without knowing anything about it. Ok, I knew it was a jazz album, but that's it. From my first couple of listens, I gathered that the album was reflecting on some tragedy. While immersed in it, my mind drifted to recent events and circumstances that cast a shadow over any sense of normalcy we can establish for our lives such as incidents of mass-shootings, the ongoing threat of police abuse and accountability, and the unremitting crisis of homelessness and addiction that plagues rural and urban communities alike. 

The pain emanating from these tracks through the strained and urgent whine of Patricks stacked sax solos, as well as heavy overcast and heat of the production, helped me explore my thoughts and feelings on these matters in both real and constructive ways. But the anguish which Patrick was clarifying with the wail of his instrument was augmented by something else... joy, vitality, insight, and hope. While a cloud certainly hangs over the procession, the music is most accurately a reflection of life, in all its busy and disorganized hues. 

The grooves Patrick slips into often resemble the bustle of traffic, the banter at a grocery store or between friends over tea, or children racing to school before the opening bell- the skipping cadence of their footfall mimicked by the wavy currents of Patrick's playful keen, resonating like a protective aura around the ordinary, the mundane, and happy patterns of the every day that bring us as close as possible to realizing the road to the paradisal. 

Still, the cloud lingers and I can't sweep it away. What was this tragedy he was getting at? What was it that swept these happy lives into the abyss? A fire? A flood? Some other act of a careless god? Or was it an act of man? An air raid or other act of war? It turns out the latter is the closest to the truth. 

After looking at the promotional materials for the album, I realized what Partick was trying to tell me. The title Hidemi is a reference to his grandfather, Hidemi Pat Shiroishi- one of the thousands of Americans held prisoner in the Western half of the country during WWII. Patrick's grandfather was one of the more than 120,000 Japanese Americans who were forcibly relocated or imprisoned between 1941 and 1945 following the United State's declaration of war with Japan. During this period, many people lost everything- evicted and forced into labor camps for no other reason than their heritage. Dispossed of nearly all their person property, their labor was exploited by the very government that had deprived them of their rights to aid in its war effort against the Japanese- forcing them to work as farmhands and in other essential, war-time industries or little to no pay compensation, and under the threat of violence and further repercussion.

Patrick's own grandfather spent four years in prison at the Tule Lake concentration camp in California for the crime of having Japanese heritage. Hidemi's experience at the camp profoundly effected him and his sense of identity as an American, and the topic remained one that both Patrick's grandparent's avoided talking with him well into his teens- nearly 60 years after his grandfather's release. 

The forced relocation and deprivation experinced by Japanese Americans is something that is poorly remembered and understood by most Americans, despite its long legacy and the dogged consequences for those who were victims of it. It is a part of the country's history that is incompatible with many's understanding of the goals and ideals of US society as a whole- especially during one of its more progressive political periods. Even when acknowledging the bare facts of these historical events and the impact they had on real people, these gaps in understanding remain wide and the approach for bridging these gulfs remains uncertain. But any great task begins with an investigation and interrogation of the facts. Hidemi is certainly this, only Patrick is using sound as its tool of discovery, as well as a means to stating its conclusions. 

Any knowing we can obtain has to have its origins somewhere. Understanding never springs from nothing. And if Hidemi can become the spark that illuminates your own comprehension of these events, then you will be better off for it. The album has certainly engaged me to come to better terms with this aspect of our nation's history, and I'm thankful for the wisdom that it has imparted, as well as the opportunity to reminisce, learn, and grow. 

It's on American Dreams. 

Album Review: Logic1000 - You've Got the Whole Night to Go

It's about 11:50 on a Wednesday when I'm writing this, so I really don't have that much of a night ahead of me... unless you count early morning as still part of the night before, in which case I've got until sunrise! Still, this might not be enough time to listen to Logic1000's EP You've Got the Whole Night to Go to my heart's content. The Berlin-based, Australian-born DJ famously produces her material using only her laptop speakers. It's an outlandish production choice, but it gets results! The tinny compression of her speaker output doesn't hamper the range or depth of her textures, but it may cause her to favor thinner basslines. A lot of DJs overload their tracks with bass, but that is not a problem for Logic1000. She is able to keep it 100 without such a crutch. In fact, she's able to keep it 1000! Easing up on the low end really gives numbers like the closer "Her" a nimble, ringing pounce, while simultaneously loosening up slightly heavier tracks like "I Won't Forget" to permit lift and delicate nuance through tactically streamlined structures. Her choice of samples on "Medium" rotate with refreshing rapidity, dancing before your eyes like the stills of a strip of film in cadence with the breaching back and forth of the silvery synth rhythms. Give You've Got the Whole Night to Go as much time as it needs to get you into a euphoric state of mind this evening... just don't forget to sleep and hydrate as well. 

It is here (in part) b/c of Because Music. 

Album Review: Cuir - EP

France's Cuir isn't that much a mystery to me. I don't know him personally, and he's always wearing a mask, but I get what they're doing. A nervy and synth saturated cross-stitching of Masked Intruder style retro skate punk with glammy melo-hardcore a la Turbonegro. It's something that would have appealed to me as a big bloody stake appeals to a ravenous dog once upon a time. Still does, actually. His recent EP makes a couple of improvements over his 2021 LP (titled Album in case you were curious), mostly in the speed sector. Kicking up the tempo might sound like a minor change, but in practice it allows him to achieve a whole new level of delightful derangement. Yes, this little EP does not mess around. "Flood De Loose" is a swinging anthemic crash, that excitedly leaps between blitzes of stomping beats and gusty synth tempered bridges, all the while Cuir excitedly shouts over himself in a rush to get to the next phrase, as if he were skipping in line at a rollercoaster to sate a desperate adrenaline addiction. "Roi Des Gogues" is driven by a menacing lurch, that leads Cuir to be whipped around the room like a cowboy who has lucklessly managed to lasso a ricocheting cannonball. And in case you couldn't parse what's inspired this ruckus, the EP closes with a headless ripping cover of Zeke's "Let's Get Drugs" translated to French. So you have drugs and Zeke to thank for Cuir's career. Probably in that order. Now go retape the handle of your favorite baseball bat and go have yourself a night on the town. 

Offside Records put this out. 

Album Review: Lalalar - Bi Cinnete Bakar

There is something profoundly compelling and unsettling about Istanbul's Lalalar. There is a shapeshifting principle to their slither that drives them in a nonlinear advance. Like a side-winder writhing in reverse. Like a scorpion stinging its own reflection. Like a vision of a shadow without an object to block the light and give it shape. A form that exists in defiance of cause. 

It's incredible that they can give license to something so mercurial through sound alone. The band has a frictionless sense of rhythm, that, despite its delimited, bold outlines, will cascade through you like chaos incarnate. And still, you may find them enticing, without fully understanding why. They are like the serpent, lowering itself from a branch with an apple clenched between its fangs, daring you to take a bite and taste its venom. 

Lalalar's debut LP Bi Cinnete Bakar is nearly long enough to be a double album, and yet, this length doesn't represent a long enough period to unzip the skinsuit they've arrived in and finish the scapulimancy they've induced by welcoming you into their interior. 

A lesser soul might find themselves gripping onto the defiant surge of Anatolian rock that courses through Lalalar's sound as a means of establishing one's barring. But to back them into such a stylistic corner feels like a crime. Luckily Lalalar doesn't give the listener any such opportunity. Their raison d'être as a band is to cut through such categories as a scimitar might slash through the leather jacket of a would-be-mugger- piercing through the restrictions in form and leaving the assailant to drop their shank and contemplate the folly of their life as it reaches an abrupt conclusion. 

The retro-voyager chic of Anatolian traditions only serves to cement the ground level of LaLalar's music, though. What serves as the true catalyst to unleash the band's baffling black magic is an audacious integration of industrial dance music tendencies. 

There is more than a subtle roar of the witchy eastern winds emanating from Sisters of Mercy on "Sol Şeritte" and the spell like "Hala Benim Gobek Adim" has a mendacious sense of direction, furthered in its wicked chase by a pulsing synth groove that coaxes it towards its darker inclinations like a demiurge perched upon its shoulder. 

The crushing funk bass of "Mecnun'dan Beter Haldeyim" will catch you around the neck like a garrote, and will further mock your frantic, twisting motions toward freedom from its grasp with a bountiful pour of dance beats and gripping washes of icy synth crests. The guitar lines on "Yamyam" will run a red race like a razor blade skirting along your skin while wicked synth roils cause your blood to boil and steam to escape through your wounds like smoke flowing out the broken windows of a burning house. 

The rhythm on "Simülasyon Terk" seems to be the band's take on the funk roll of a pitch-black '70s exploitation flick while the shifting sands of "Depresyondan Çıktım Boşluktayım" gives singer Ali Güçlü Şimşek the opportunity to trade in his deep stoic purr for a somber shamanistic folk-soul flow intersperse with tiger-toothed raps. 

There is never a dull moment in the sonic death dive that is Bi Cinnete Bakar. Cast out your regrets and inhibitions and let its eerie power rush in to fill the void. 

Here we go Les Disques Bongo Joe.

Interview: Makaya McCraven

Nolis Anderson

A couple of weeks back I had the pleasure of talking with Chicago-based luminary jazz producer and player Makaya McCraven for the CHIRP Radio Artist interview Series. The episode I produce from that interview is not live on CHIRP's site! We mostly talked about the background of his latest album Deciphering the Message, but he also provided some important insights into his approach and process over the course of our conversation. It's moments like this that make me feel like I am living a charmed life. Check out the conversation on CHIPR's site here, or below:

CHIRP Radio · Makaya McCraven Interview

Deciphering the Message is out on Blue Note. 

Interview: Kill Alters

Photo by Matt Lief Anderson

Kill Alters is an experimental sound project helmed by Bonnie Baxter. It started when she began sampling old cassette tapes that her mother recorded of herself, but with time, it became something else entirely. Kill Alters released their LP Armed To The Teeth L.M.O.M.M. back in February of '22 and it immediately fascinated me. I listen to a lot of experimental music but this project just had an energy that completely overwhelmed my senses. Thankfully Bonnie didn't mind talking to and putting my head back on straight. In this interview, we discuss her new album, her relationship with her mother, and a lot of other stuff that is totally unrelated to either. I hope you like it and learn a little something too. 

Listen to the full interview below:

Armed To The Teeth L.M.O.M.M. is out on Hausu Mountain.

Album Review: Sam Interface - Pink Dolphins EP

Whether it is a fair characterization or not, there are certain brands of jungle music that get labeled as "dolphin."  Which I assume is because the electronic rhythms can sometimes sound like the chattering laughter of one of our sea-dwelling porpoise pals- like someone just slide them a joke etched on a clamshell telling them to watch out for the evil tune... because he's albacore *rimshot*. UK DJ Sam Interface (formerly known as SNØW) leans into some of these cliches on his Pink Dolphins EP, but manages to come out the better due to his inspired integration of drill beat clatter and bustling gqom while allowing the auditory signals from around London's street life to filter in the flow of his groove. Train announcements and nightlife evanescent trickle through the percolation of sharp, sensible oscillations, augmented by body-stirring bass-ology praxis to elevate the cosmopolitan spirit of an international, ever-dynamic city- and you along with it. The rapturous synth groove and joyous, ponderous ebb of the beat supplies a feeling akin to a swift and steady rise into the air on the title track- like you've been scooped into god's own cupped palms and lifted towards the clouds. "Finally"  gives jungle a lightly cracked but bodacious makeover that will spin you around like you were a ream of magnetic tape and "Crud" engages luxuriant cinematic cues, durable polymer polyrhythms, and even the sound of a plane buzzing overhead to cause your inhibitions to crumble. A brisk and nimble dance record, Pink Dolphin manages to avoid waterlog by sweating it out on the dance floor. 

Out on R&S Records. 

Album Review: Billiam - 8 Hours In Billiamville

There is something very cathartic about lofi punk. The lower the recording quality, the simpler the ideas, the better. One of the things that I find appealing about the garagier side of the style is the lack of aggression. Or rather, the centering of anxiety over rage. Don't get me wrong, I love furious music ... but I definitely feel more anxious than angry most days, so privileging one over the other in terms of mood suits me just fine. On that note, I've been giving Australia's Billiam a whirl lately and his record 8 Hours In Billiamvills is definitely simpatico in the manner I've just described. It's belligerently catchy and obnoxiously endearing, in addition to just sounding like a nervous wreck. Billy has one of those nasally, shout-talk styles of singing that's actually very reminiscent of Jon Spencer of Jon Spencer's Blues Explosion (but more tolerable). Even if Billiamvills isn't very "bluesy," it's a comparison that generally works, as Billy kind of throws himself at you with his voice in the same way Jon tends to (and if the late John Belushi is to be believed, punk is the new blues [or at least it was... 40 years ago]). Something else I like about Billy's style is his guitar work. Even though he is really wailing on his instrument, there is an agility to his playing that sometimes catches me off guard. Like the way he hops between chords on the opener "Prune" or walks out a skipping progression of notes on "Lunchbrake" or ducks under tension cranking power chords and Wire-esque wallopers on "Leisure" is naively impressive. He makes it look easy but also like he's not sure he is going to pull it off each time. His play kind of resembles a cat leaping to a bookshelf that should be too high for it but managing to land on it with all four paws. It's not always the most artful exercise to witness but it's definitely a laudable deployment of skill. Even though he's got some talent, for this style of music, ability doesn't matter as much as passion, and it's clear that Billy has plenty of that. All in all, I genuinely enjoyed my trip to Billiamvills. Maybe next time I'll book a room for a full day, but 8 hours was definitely enough for a nice visit. 

Find it at Under Heat Records. 

Album Review: Claptone - Fantast

I keep expecting Berlin's Claptone to be as grime/dark as Perturbator or Gost. But the dude just is not willing to go down the urban-industrial, witchy-wasteland route with his dance music. And I respect that. I respect his defiance of my expectations, and for a guy who dresses like he is headed to the steam-punk-themed after-party at a Renaissance Faire, he is steadfastly committed to cultivating a seriously epic sense of marvel in the listener without a hint of kitsch or pretense. Instead of Carpenter-esque synths whines, you get slick, funk guitar loops. Instead of brutalizing bass, you get pristine, airy toms. In the place of dread, there is wonder. Where there is a space where pain could fester, you will only find relief. Claptone has released three LPs so far (two since I became aware of him), and so far 2018's Fantast is my favorite. I like the acid house revival he is going for on 2021's Closer, but the blend of deep house and pop-soul on Fantast is just undeniably more cohesive. This is despite, the dreamy escapist vibe to the whole affair. There is definitely a lot of pretty party-ready mood music on the album but if you are looking for substance and introspection he's got a little bit of that in store for you as well. Incidentally, Claptone has a penchant for roping indie artists into his project. This is not normally a sales point for me, but I really like what he does with Clap Your Hands Say Yeah on the track “Animal” which is both relentless snapping and unfailing in its ability to engender intrigue. I'm also a big fan of the calm and reflective pocket of pure oxygen which is "Birdsong" and the cosmic disco purfling of the Chic-sauced dish "Stronger." Despite whatever flaw in my own brain that causes me to project an aura of foreboding onto its creator, I readily admit that this album's sense of awe is inspiring. Give in to your desire to move with Fantast. It is what it claims to be: Fantastic.

Fantast is out on PIAS

Album Review: Monte Meteoro - Ser Vivo

Life is for the living, or so they say. I'm also told that it's better than the alternative. Although, I have no evidence to back this up. What I do know is that it is a peculiar type of penance, made even stranger by the necessity of your conscious awareness of it. Your knowledge of your need for survival, when colored by the actual struggle of maintaining your existence, can be downright exhausting. Like when I think about all the hours I've spent preparing meals, brushing my teeth, washing and then folding laundry, and working to afford shelter (and food and toothpaste and clothing), and then project how much more time I will need to be doing these things in the future... it's almost frightening to think that it could go on like this for fifty or so more years. On and on and on. It's unbelievable that something like having a body, something you had no say in coming into the possession of, would come attached with so much responsibility and time-intensive labor. And yet, we all make the conscious choice to put forth the effort anyway, myself included. And so long as most of us still have an organ in our chests blasting blood and oxygen into our brains, we will continue to make the conscious choice to perpetuate this struggle going forward. Music makes this choice easier of course. Case in point, I'm preparing to do the dishes while I'm writing this review and listening to Mexican garage rockers Monte Meteoro latest EP Ser Vivo. Of all the things we have to power through to live, washing dishes is really one of the least tedious and painful... but it's still something I'd avoid if I could. If I could, I'd spend all day, everyday, lazily leafing through the pages of a book while lightly bobbing my head to the sunray shimmer and soft but persistent advance of the shoegazy-folk opening "Donde No Duele Nada" or stomping my cleats to the lysergic, Kyuss-trimming freak-out of "Contra." But alas, this is not my fate. Verily I am resigned tonight to scrape pans to the tense, post-punky rebound of the shadow-haze daydream "Nada" and feel my fingers prune in a pool of detergent and sudsy water to the titled balled unwind of "Pársel" as I sway in a slow tilting drift, a faintly defiant swivel, leaning my body first to the right and then to the left and then back again, like a blade of grass tussled by the breath of a dreaming dog as it slumbers on the lawn. I envy that hypothetical dog right now. Living isn't always exhilarating, but it is mostly tolerable. And good tunes like Ser Vivo certainly help keep it that way. Now if you will excuse me, I've got some rinsing and drying to do. 

Album Review: MESH - S/T

Mesh's self-titled EP is simple but satisfying. Noodle limbed, punchy, DIY rock that will slap you on the nose like a Stretch Armstrong belted to a ceiling fan. It's all the best aspects of oddball rock for the sake of rolling around in your own piss, pleasure, and vacant presence of mind that you could ever ask for. We're all alienated, isolated, half-delusional apes at the end of the day, and we might as well get on and start enjoying it. What I like about Mesh's psych-inspired, gangly garage rock is that they're able to make the sense of humiliating helplessness that permeates mid-western, rust-belt life with the same level of fun and delight that you'd expect from a beachside barbeques Elvis used to star in (you know, back when he was still a hunk... and alive). Take, for instance, the paranoid pogo of "CIA Mind Control" which wiggles and winds its way around a slate of guitar revs that jut at you like a bed of nails. It might sound uncomfortable at first, but Mesh's style and enthusiasm are playful enough to make every elusion to punishment headed your way feel like a prize you've won at the county fair. The second track "Company Jeep" in contrast has a more smoothed-out and elastic melody that paves the way for the fierce and ominous drive of "Traveler." The mood lightens even more with the tree-scaling, bark-chewing bob "Missing Link" only to come crashing down in the dumbfounding, witchy death-wish "Ur Dead." Slap this freak in your cassette deck and let it weave its way into your brain meat into oiled-up linguine. 

Mess around and find it on Born Yesterday Records. 

Album Review: Aquiles Navarro & Tcheser Holmes - Heritage of the Invisible II

Heritage of the Invisible II is like something from another dimension. Or multiple dimensions. Rather, a synecdoche between the wavy films that separate this reality from its neighbor. Like a long carpeted hallway illuminated by an indeterminate light source, adorned with rows of funhouse mirrors. Only they're not mirrors at all. Instead, each is a window into a separate world where you are still you, but you aren't you, because there is another you looking you quizzically in the eye while staking a plot of real estate in a different temporal cloud. Through each portal, you are able to drink in this alternative vision of yourself long enough to become lost in its returned and increasingly, admiring gaze- long enough to forget which side of the translucent barrier of time you arrived on. But though you've been offered adequate duration to become lost in the thicket of your own features and the paradox of a parallel mind, there is still the impression that you have moved past each display of yourself with the speed of a fall. It's almost miraculous how disorienting this enlightened series of encounters is, and it's amazing that they all somehow came out of two late-night improvised sessions in the belly of New York. A testament to the mind bridge and linkage of intention embodied by the combined talents of Aquiles Navarro and Tcheser Holmes, who manage to make their respective trumpet and kit sound like a whole orchestra- a fully palatial exhibition of transitions and transformations that serve as a radar dish through which to cast one's own ego into the night and claim space for your own balance of understanding. In the end, you are the one who holds the keys to this manifold gate. What Aquiles and Tcheser have supplied, above all else, are instruction in the motions required to unlock its combination. 

Find it on International Anthem. 

Album Review: Supa Bwe - No Thanks

In order for an album like NO THANKS to happen you'd have to say "yes" to a lot of things. Yes, to your own ability. Yes, to your own drive. Yes, to collaboration and teamwork. And yes, to your own vision. But Supa Bwe is only a "yes man" where it counts ie when it comes to himself. 

The Westside Chicago MC and producer has crowned his latest LP with his guiding mantra. A simple but resounding phrase, "No Thanks." A defiant coda- one that he proudly displays over his shoulder so that he can see it as he's exiting the room and out of your life.  

Supa Bwe's is not one to suffer fools lightly and that's why local luminaries like Chance the Rapper and Mick Jenkins want to appear on his tracks- they know that the environment he creates is a sucker-free zone, one where good creative impulses will be nurtured and the lackluster and derivative one will be shown the door. 

Supa Bwe's 2017 full-length album Finally Dead was the last gasp of the sound he had previously become known for- an incisive variety of autotune turnt, effects-laden Soundcloud trap, somewhat in the vein of XXXTentacion and other artists popular in the mid-to-late 2010s. NO THANKS is less fractious than his previous efforts in many ways and it's this cohesion and consistency that gives Supa Bwe the breathing room he requires to fully embrace his talents as a singer. 

He takes advantage of the affordances offered by the mixing and beat selection as early as the first and title track, where we find him belting out his lungs in front of a shadowy curtain of ghostly hums. The melodies and atmospherics of this first track tumble into the following "HELLCAT" like a landslide busting through the windows of a condo perched on the side of a mountain, with Supa Bwe riding the cascade of tumultuous melody and energy like a maudlin surfer, unwinding ribbons of dark text depicting his soiree with demons (both internal and external) in his gloomy, fateful wake.

Supa Bwe has an excellent singing voice and it never gets stale listening to him line up a phrase in one key only to witness him jumping several octaves in a single slicing motion before the line reaches its end. He's like a samurai- arching his blade up in a devastating skyward swipe. 

While Supa Bwe's singing forms the core driver of NO THANKS, he does manage to explore other sides of his abilities in interesting ways. Chicago is an apartheid state in a lot of ways and the misery of this ongoing segregation is examined on the blasting punk-rap track "SERENGETI," wherein Supa Bwe channels the righteous anger and bombast of acts like Ho99o9 with the aid of the ever collected Mick Jenkins. 

And in case you find yourself missing some of the Soundcloud era flows of his previous albums, you can find Supa Bwe unloading ripping triplets on the fly to eviscerate clout chasers and gold-diggers on tracks like "HOLLYWOOD," while elsewhere, autotuned and marble-mouthed vocal patterns make a triumphant appearance on the second to last track "YOU DON'T LISTEN." 

Supa Bwe might have named this album NO THANKS, not just because it is an important phrase to his philosophy as an artist, but also as a way of keeping out the people who can't be real and aren't capable of appreciating what he is laying down. For everyone else, the title should be read as an enormous welcome mat. Come on in and sit down- Supa Bwe has something to show you and some stuff you're going to want to hear. Welcome to the club! 

 

Album Review: Lip Talk - Laughing & Eating Cake

Lip Talk is the solo project of Sarah K. Pedinotti. I'm generally a fan of Sarah's work, particularly because of her group Kalbells- a pop group whose sound I consistently struggle to define (a struggle that only endears me to them more). Laughing & Eating Cake is her second album with the project and seems to serve as an expellent exercise where she gives voice to her more conventional tendencies in a celebration of contemporary, '80s obsessed pop, with a precocious person twist. It might not be as outlandish as some of her other work, but it is still, definitively, her's. Every radical notion has to have a counterpoint, and they can certainly exist within the same person and be expressed through that person's art simultaneously. When I say this, I am specifically thinking of the track "Bargain Day," a minimalist funk and R&B track that explores the joy of consumption as well as the alienation it engenders- an alienation that points to some desired satisfaction that commodities themselves can not satiate. It is also worth noting that not every work has to challenge either the audience or its creator. Sometimes it just needs to be. And that being can be a statement in itself. This reality is manifest on Laughing & Eating Cake as it is an album that represents a need to reflect back at the world many of the artist's direct inspirations and illuminate the processes that they fuel. The album is flush with Sarah's squishy, drapes-pulled, stay-in-bed-all-day beats and tenacious, heartrending grooves thrown up all at once as if she were tossing her entire wardrobe on her bed and attempting to see how many different combinations of outfits she can assemble. Because of her good taste and constant roving, curative eye this somewhat messy but productive endeavor results in such gorgeous, dreamy gestures as "Maria" and the swarthy noble strut of "Number 9." There are more admissions to vulnerability and the wild ride of infatuation on Laughing & Eating Cake than I am used to hearing in Sarah's work, but given the way these tracks are attempting to model popular styles of pop and R&B, it's not a surprising subject matter to explore- and I certainly can't complain when it results in stunning lip-biting, swoons and canters like "Running in Place," and lithe but commanding affirmations like "King." Lip Talk's Laughing & Eating Cake is exactly what it says on the label: a fun and sweetly indulgent experience. And this bold honesty is what helps makes it so wonderful. 

 You can find it through Northern Spy. 

Album Review: Lithium Bath - Everything Before You Left

 
I used to listen to a lot more music like this. Back when I was nieve and unstrained. Back when I didn't really know what music was or how important it would become to me. I would listen to a lot of underground punk that barely adhered to any know structures or theories of music. Rebellious acts of sound that appeared formless but conveyed a sense of importance and internal consistency. I still listen to untamed music. But I used to listen a LOT more. Texan slow-emo band Lithium Bath reminds me of the kind of band who I would see open a show at a roller rink and then take a chance on one of the hand labeled CD-Rs they were selling at their merch table. A lot of bands I discovered that way stuck with me for years. I also had a habit of searching Myspace for the names I saw on flyers posted at my local record. I discovered a lot of unique voices that way too. And Lithium Bath reminds me of all of them as well. As for how I actually came across Lithium Bath... who can say. I'm always swimming in music. It was either Twitter or I found them through a fan's profile on Bandcamp. Something like that. However it occurred, I'm glad I encountered this them. Their 2021 album Everything Before You Left is expectedly lofi but not in a lazy or predictable way. Sure, it sounds like the album was recorded on a Tascam that had been partially mauled by a garbage disposal. And yes, that is probably because the band couldn't afford anything better. But the distortions in sound, its warped and disappearing edges, form such a vital component of the character of Everything Before You Left. It makes me feel like I'm listening to something private- recordings that were never meant to be shared. A secret and imaginative conspiracy. And by eavesdropping and listening to the record, I've now become a co-conspirator with the band. It doesn't help me much when it comes to defining the records sound beyond these textures though. Being in the "know" just means you realize that there is a lot that you're not getting. Everything Before You Left is a whole bunch of split ends and ingrown hairs. Meandering points of reference with unclear origins and blurry points of termination. That said, it's decidedly emo. It's certainly shoegaze inspired. And it's proto-everthing. It's like Low in a pre-oedipal state. It's very Joan of Arc in a hurry and with something to say. Often throwing so many ideas at the listener that it is hard to tell when the band has fully unspoiled one and picked up the thread of another entirely. Or rather, it's like Bluetile Lounge contemplating the tide as it swallows and reguritates a plastic bag floating in the surf- always pushing down but eternally anticipating the return of emotions one can't quite account for or explain. This is especially the case when the murmurous fretting gives way to voluminous bursts of nerve-wracking energy. There isn't anything that constrains or limits Lithium Bath in the pursuit of understanding who they are now, or laying the brick for the path to who they will be later. All the wreckage in between will one day form a flowerbed, upon which will sprout throwns of memory will thrive in search of a hand to prick. Drawing blood as a reminder of what can't be suppressed, and what still lies deathless and buried underneath. 

Interview: Sharperheart

Elma Husetovic is Sharperheart. A dark electronic project that is quickly gaining momentum in the Chicago underground. Following her slot opening for Pixel Grip, and slightly prior the release of her self-titled EP, I caught up with Elma to talk about her multi-step journey from St. Louis to Chicago, her new record, her favorite junk food, and where she sees the project going next. You can read the interview on the CHIRP Blog at the link below. 

Interview with Sharperheart: https://chirpradio.org/blog/the-chirp-radio-interview-sharperheart

Listen to Sharperheart's EP here: 

sharperheart · Sharperheart

Album Review: Kanii - Kosia

Talk about good first impressions. Kanii is a DMV rapper who released his debut EP Kosia just last month and it's good. Extremely good. In addition to being a solid first entry into his catalog, it also represents a kind of first in style for me as well. 

His sound represents an evolution of some of the crunchier forms of underground hip hop into a more generally palatable paradigm. On Kosia we see chiptunish effects, cracked drum loops, and super-compressed textures, all of which are common to Soundcloud styles like hexd, but here are found intersecting with moody, mainline, sing-song rap presentations in the vein of Future. Kanii's flow, even when he is spitting like a machine gun, has a quiet lyricism to it that lends an inherent melodicism to everything he says. 

Appropriately, given where Kanii is coming from, Kosia also has quite a lot of hyperpop flare in its DNA - making liberal use of sudden pitch shifts in the vocals and playful lissome synths to back up the beat, all of which are deployed accents to his narrative similar to how soundtrack cues signal punch lines on a Cartoon Network show. 

Where Kanii splits from a lot of hyperpop artists though, is that he doesn't have an overly aggressive flow and his beats don't seem aimed at disorienting the listener. I think these facts help to distinguish his sound. Despite the extreme clash of influences on Kosia, you never feel like you're being punched in the ear or harangued in the way that a Rico Nasty track can sometimes do to you. 

The whole album is really mellow and easy to relax into, with just a sprinkling of mayhem to keep things interesting. The most chaotic track is probably the foggy shuffle of the opener "Push2Start" which combines dial tone samples and a ribbed trap beat to create a rattling, staticky manifesto. 

"Love at Night" mostly rides a tubular set of synth grooves intercepted at intervals with interdimensional cross-talk and giggling computer effects. "Lie" is an affirmation of devotion that takes place in a digital Eden, complete with streams of babbling synths, refreshing patters of breezy percussion, and friendly sound effects of all varieties, including a range of twittering bird noises. 

And I have to say, that I really do love some of the beats Kanii has on this album, particularly the minimalist plastic pattern that intros closer "Selfish," it is precious as hell and should be defended at all costs. 

It's hard to believe this is only Kanii's debut. He's an artist with a very clear sense of his own sound and talent and there really doesn't seem to be any limit to his potential. 

Album Review: COGHLAN - Bossa Buenos Aires

COGHLAN and Argentina pop artist. His name is taken from a neighborhood in Buenos Aires, the city he is from. Imagine that. What if an artist from Brooklyn just started calling themselves Bushwick, like they were the mayor or something. You'd think that would be a bigger deal, but it's not for COGHLAN. Not as far as I can see while researching him anyway. Zero shade. Of course, if you could try and throw some over him, but he would cut through it like a laser through a smoke machine's stream. As an artist, he is bright and focused, and impossible to capture, and these qualities make his 2021 album Bossa Buenos Aires powerful. There isn't any single focal point for the record, but it hangs together quite miraculously- like a constellation of stars that is always changing shape, and yet, always retaining some recognizably epic form. Like a dragon. Then a tiger. A person with a bow. And then a scorpion in a hard hat, crushing a tall can of PBR in its big pincer. The first number "En Pinamar" most closely resembles the mood of the cover, watery textures make you feel like you've inverted and are now floating on your head while leafy electronics shimmer and scrape around you, exfoliating and widdling away the excess until only a pristine, golden figure remains in a ringing aura of clarity and tranquility. And it only gets more exciting from there! "El Último Baile" is a lush, acid house dosed pivot, "UFO Point" collides trappy reggaeton and far-out house music in fiery display of controlled excess, and "Santa Lucía" trips around pools of vaporous new agey remnants in a subdued but lucid mood. Then there is the very excellent, "Después en los Bailes"a number with a real kick to it, combining the frantic energy of a post-club J-pop single with the deathless, breathless teenage allure and lofi exuberance of a hyperpop mixtape distributed exclusively via cassette. COGHLAN has molded himself into a very rare and charismatic beast on Bossa Buenos Aires. You can try and get a collar around him and claim him for your own, but he will always evade you- thus is his mystery and his undying appeal. 

Interview: Daydream Review & Smooth Rogers

Image thanks to artist

Also thanks to artist

I talked to one of the key people behind Chicago's Daydream Review as well as the one and only Smooth Rogers for the CHIRP Radio Artist Interview Series this week. We talked about how they work together, what they like about each other's sounds and the remix single for "Yesterday and Tomorrow" that they released together earlier this year. You can check out the convo here, or below:

CHIRP Radio · Daydream Review & Smooth Rogers Interview

Listen to the remix of "Yesterday and Tomorrow" below: 

Album Review: ✞☯Future Otaku✞☯ - Future Idols

I realize saying this probably makes me a total weirdo but I think the recent breed of vaporware is spectacularly beautiful. It didn't always use to be this way. There was a time when this style of electronic production was spectral and disconcerting- the hauntology of post-modernity rendered through the plunder of mp3 rips and down-pitched vocals. I like these aspects too. They give me a lot to think about. But sometimes I just want to jam. And artists like ✞☯Future Otaku✞☯ are perfect for just that- getting your ever-loving groove on! I like how they intersect their hyper-funk proclivities with darker tones and old school hip hop on their later release Future Funk City, but 2019's Future Idols is their superior record in my opinion. It's consistent for one. The album interweaves city pop sound clips and synth patterns with Fibre-esque bass and grooves to make something that sounds close to French house, but with the blinding gleeful gloss of a C + C Music Factory single. It's an insanely bright mix that moves like quicksilver across the dancefloor, washing up around your toes and then your hips until it has filled the entire space and you are submerged in a sea of glistening motion. "The Look" definitely has a bit of that Bangalter bustle to it but possesses a lightness to the quality of its textures that make the clear night air feel heavy in comparison. You really get a sense of the city pop influences on the album with a song such as "Hypnotic Girl in Tokyo version 2" which feels like all of the high points of a Mariya Takeuchi number cut up and patched together until they are overlapping in an upsurge of sustaining climaxes. "Idol in Love" is one of the more overtly deep house-infused tracks while still managing to acquire a euphoric state of oneirism through its fountain-like bursts of synths and pitched-up vocal swoons. "Future Love ♡♡♡" breaks up R'nB pianos with boomerang horn cuts, lassoing grooves, and some sultry, slapping vocal samples, while a track like "Hinari" lights the sky on fire with the power of Japenese soul music and splashy sequencing.  Like I said, I find this kind of thing completely stunning. I don't have a crystal ball, but I can still predict many more nights spent breaking it down to Future Idols in the ensuing timeline that is my life. 

It's bustin' out thanks to Tiger Blood Tapes

Interview: Jacky Boy

Photo by Anna Powell Denton

Got to talk with Indiana rockers Jacky Boy for the CHIRP Radio blog and they told me all about their new record, Mush. It's out on Darling Recordings. 

You can check out the full interview here: https://chirpradio.org/blog/the-chirp-radio-interview-jacky-boy

And listen to Mush below: 

Album Review: Mano Le Tough - At The Moment

I think we all needed something to get us through the early months of the pandemic. The uncertainty. The depression. The helplessness. The feelings of guilt that came with that helplessness. Everyone needed something to distract them. To make them feel productive at a time when the Earth was standing still. This blog was that for me. What became At The Moment was apparently something similar for renowned Irish producer Mano Le Tough. Even though it came out of a period of strife, the album is heedless in its optimism. It is clearly motivated by a sense that art is an unsinkable vessel. A stout craft, that when let out to sea, even in stormy weather, it will return its passengers home in health and hearty spirits (and maybe even a little more enlighted for the journey). I think this accounts for the new agey vibrations of opener "Man of Aran" where funnels of high-spirited sound work to reshuffle your humors like an antique dealer reorganizing a bookshelf in her shop- prioritizing the essentials and putting the rest in storage. The chilled-out electric atmosphere of "Empty Room" leaves plenty of space for you to settle into amongst its mellow and blurry textures and "Short Cuts" combines adult contemporary guitar-pop with a panache of rave percussion. A mood of togetherness pervades the fireside acoustics and metronomic claps of "Moment of Change," a sentimentality that is further explored on the expansive sunset-colored, steeldrum adorn "No Road Without A Turn." You can't always be happy. You can't always be in control. But with At The Moment, you can at least feel at home- or at the very least, at peace. 

You can find it via Pampa Records. 

Album Review: Crime of Passing - Crime of Passing

This is the debut LP from Ohio's Crime of Passing. It's been a while since I've given a post-punk band the time of day but I'm glad that I fell into this release. The band has summoned from the depths of their souls nine spells of immersive dire attraction. A compact of pessimistic passages that nails the sentiment of a world collapsing in a drizzling shower of decay- disintegrating like a drying oil painting that has had a jar of turpentine poured over the lip of its crown. They sound like a grim and gritty rendition of The Danse Society, with reverberations of corrosion echoing through their joints as they writhe amongst the dark sequences of jangling chords and anthemic carousels of distorted groove. Crime of Passing debut tumbles out from the band's imaginations without pretense, but with a whole lot of speed and fitful lucidity. Fast post-punk often has the problem of coming across as excessively reverby power-pop, but the dourness of singer Andie Luman's pleading, provocative wails, the course rebuke and ramble of the gothy synths, and the unorthodox geometry of the guitar work manage to legitimate the band's post-Joy Division bonafides. The muggy whimsy of "Vision Talk" feels like Drab Majesty illuminated by the feeble flickering fluorescence of neon lights bouncing off the dancefloor of a resurrected ghostship, while tracks like "Tender Fixation" permit the purging of bizarre infatuations through a riotous tear of uproarious guitars. "Hunting Knife" feels like it is searching for a dance partner to tango with it in the pale of the moon, and wickedly frayed arrangments like "World on Fire" impress upon the mind visions of Siouxsie and the rest of the Banshees rehearsing an act of self-immolation in an abandoned rural church. Crime of Passing is post-punk, embracing the cold purity of its corrupting potential and finding salience in the form through which it can rise like a twisted, ashen phoenix.

Released by Feel It Records. 

Album Review: Meadow Meadow - Silhouettes

Some music is received as such an organically comprised whole that you'd swear it was grown that way in a community garden. Meadow Meadow's Silhouettes is one of these kinds of experiences. Collaborators Peter Darlington and James Green cultivate a vibrantly imaginary grove, practicing an almost spiritual form of agronomy that manifests through their sensitive deployment of electronic effects and orchestral elements to encourage the germination and subtly kaleidoscopic character of their pliant, minimalist indie rock. Theirs is a process that produces an impressionist portrait of warm summer afternoons and mornings bathed in the fair light of dawn.  Silhouettes is golden hour music- an energy transfer between you and a celestial body that lends encouragement and support to your very being. The sounds are heavy in contrast but they draw an angelic hew out of any surface with which they interact. A song like "NDO" will emerge into your perception like an unfurling sunflower whose interior possesses a cornucopia of color. Guitar notes caress your ears like brush strokes on a canvass in expressions of a heuristic mystique on "Let Him Go," where breathy lilts swoon as if dancing on currents of pure oxygen. And then there is the dry splash of "Acceptance," a ruminating chinook that will trickle down and through you like cool raindrops sliding off the freshly budded leaves of an old oak tree. Let yourself rejuvenate a little this afternoon with the sounds of Silhouettes. 

It's available via Practice Music. 

Album Review: Los Calvos - .​.​.​y que Calvos!

What I found most confounding about the reissue of Los Calvos's second LP .​.​.​y que Calvos! (courtesy of El Palmas Music) is not that an album from 1968 still sounds vigorous and vital in 2022; it's that none of the songs on it were ever performed live. It's kind of profound when you think about it. Especially when you consider how energizing the rhythms are and that energy flows through savvy little numbers like a current shooting through a strip of copper. 

Los Calvos was a testing ground for bandleader Ray Pérez to see how thoroughly he could pattern salsa with the pallets of rock and jazz, even employing a drum kit for percussion (something that was unheard of at the time, and not particularly to the taste of the dummer who was employed to play the instrument). Ray abandoned the project after the release of .​.​.​y que Calvos! and moved on to further triumphs. Despite the change in course of its creator though, the album continued to live on as a definitive point in his career as well as a prime example of mid-century Latin dance music. 

Just listen to the call and response of the singer (one of two!) Carlos "Carlín" Asicio Rodríguez on "Tiene La Razón" as he rides a full-bodied groove as it is punched up by enormous bassy horn sweeps and chiseled by piano solos, and resist the urge to smile and swivel your hips a little. I bet you can't do it. And I bet that even if you don't speak Spanish, you'll be primed to want to shout the chorus back at Carlín. It would be inhuman not to!

As love these more straightforward samba numbers, they are not the most epic episodes the album has to offer. No, the really juicy bits that are served up by .​.​.​y que Calvos! are found on numbers like "EL Moño de María" which manages to contain within itself an inexhaustible level of charisma and mood-altering sense of time. The jangling rattle of the percussion will lash your spine like it was a marimba making you an instrument of its fulfillment as the teetering piano and rich horn flourishes further tug at your marionette strings. The tango of scatting vocals and retorting horn bursts on top of a babbling plunge of a groove on "Suenan Los Cueros" simply feel unstoppable, and the saucer shimmy romance and rambunctious rebound of "EL Marciano" as a scene of interstellar intrigue to the entire affair. 

Some have lamented that this was the group's final album. I'm amazed something this magnetic can exist at all without something wacky happening with the Earth's polarity. If it was responsible for the planet rolling off its axis though, it would be worth it though, and I'd happily continue to listen to .​.​.​y que Calvos! as we ping-pong around the universe. It's still a shame that no one got to hear these songs played live though...

The album is available from El Palmas Music.