Album Review: Aquakultre - Don't Trip

Don't Trip was supposed to be a five-song EP. It still has a kind of humbleness to it. The kind that you might expect from a smaller, transitional release, but it's not modest in scope. The humility and conscious humanity of the album flows from the recognition that it stands atop the mantel of many courageous and talented souls and traditions, all of whom Lance Sampson (as Aquakultre) pays due respect to over the course of the album. From the classic house dwelling R'nB of opener "I Can Wait," to the g-funk bust and scratch of "I'm For Real," the smooth neo-soul hip-swing of "It's All Good," and the Southern seasoned shimmy of "Africvillean Funk," there are histories here that are not just acknowledged through sound and practice, but recognized and reproduced in a continuance of their essential creeds. Mostly joyful, sometimes painful, the album presents each track as another opportunity to give thanks to forebearers as one looks toward the future. Don't Trip is not just a celebration of music and musicians, although it is that as well, but a chance to honor those from whom one draws strength, and vice versa, in a fabric of interwoven relations. The album was conceived during the lockdown while Lance was beginning a then-new relationship with his current partner. The remnants of these origins can be found in songs about long, conversant lunches (literally, the aqua-disco dive "Lunch") and earnest exchanges of reassurances and promises (represented by the sincere sway of "Don't Trip," whose grooves dip like they are bending to catch during a fall). However, the project inevitably expanded as the world began to reopen into a cross-continental collaboration with friends from around the globe (there are around 20(!) guest spots on Don't Trip), one that recognizes the need for kinship where ever one finds themselves, especially when that place is under threat of disappearing. Bringing it back home to Lance's native Canada, the slinky jam "Africvillean Funk," pays tribute to Africville in Bedford Basin, Halifax, Nova Scotia, an underserved and rapidly evaporating, predominately black community, that is envisioned as defiant and unified in the face of a tidal surge of money, neglect, and racism that are aligned against them. Don't Trip, in all its modesty and enthralling levity, devotion and mirth, manages not to be too small an endeavor that it can be simply stumbled past and overlooked, not too large and ambitious a work that it overshadows the subjects of its homage, and ultimately, just the right size to find a place in any heart that has an opening for good tunes, better vibes, and a rejuvenated sense of place and community. 

Find this release and others from Forward Music Group.

Interview: Walker

Photo by James Werner

I continue to meet some very cool people doing this podcast for CHIRP Radio. Case in point, local singer/songwriter/music teacher Walker. He's a very chill human with a great approach to music. If I were the age to be taking music lessons, I'd be honored to have him as my coach/instructor. In this interview, we talk about his methods, his journey to Chicago, his latest album Phew, and the role joy plays in his music. You can check out the whole conversation here, or below: 

Listen to his album Phew below: 

Mid-Summer Beach Bash 2022

It's no longer mid-summer (or mid-year) but that doesn't mean that it's time to crawl under 12 blankets and hygge Old Enough (or some other Japanese program on Netflix a friend recommended to you... Terrace House?). No, there are still plenty of warm weather days ahead of us this year and even more great records to spin while soaking up all that natural UV treatment. Because this is a blog, where I write about music, here is a short list of music I've been enjoying this summer (so far!). I've been in a pretty chill mode this year so it's mostly hip-hop and pop music. This is a heads-up for those of you who dig that sort of thing. If you like other stuff, there is other stuff too. Hopefully, you find something you can groove on. If not, don't tell me. I will take it very personally. 

Fly Anakin - Frank (Lex Records)

Frank is the debut solo excursion from Richmond hip-hop artist and Jedi-level language arts warrior, Fly Anakin. If I had to describe the theme of this debut, it would be fidelity- staying true to who you are, where you came from, and being honest with yourself about what you want to do with your life. Might sound simple, but its implications are profound. Fly continues to have a very slick and sharp flow on Frank, which remains deftly eloquent even when shifting into high gear, a talent for elocution and street heated, personal prose that thrives amongst a colorful backdrop of '70s hustler soundtracks and moody soulful beats as comfortably as a peacock wears the train of his feathers. Frank is a forceful exercise in keeping it real. 

Oren Ambarchi / Johan Berthling / Andreas Werliin - Ghosted (Drag City)

Taut and groovy guitar jazz for the night owl in you. Ghosted is the product of a collaboration between Australian guitarist Oren Ambarchi, bassist Johan Berthling, and Norwegian bone-rattler Andreas Werliin. The four-track album presents nearly forty minutes worth of subdued, street-lamp illuminated, vespertine patterns of repetitious impressionism. It is a perfect album for when the night has surrounded you, and you've settled in the cool mist and cleansing glow of the moon. It is at this time that you may become energized by the equinoctial rhythms of a trio in tune with the hidden illustriousness of the nocturnal world. Everything old will seem new in the low light sounds that this ensemble emits, and everything new will soon fit you like a glove. 

  

Sweet Pill - Where the Heart Is (Topshelf Records)

It's always a good sign when you can easily pick up on a band's inspirations, even when their sound is nothing like any of the bands that they remind you of. New Jersey's Sweet Pill happens to be just such a group. On their album, Where the Heart is, you will encounter some brash jangle guitars ala Tigers Jaw and some composed fury in the vein of Circa Survive, but the performances are far from a derivative of the two. Instead, the band's sound will hit you like a sandbag full of memories- soft and forceful, polished and resilient, going off like a grenade full of skeleton keys that opens all the doors in the cluttered gangway of your mind; letting all the feelings you've forgotten or put away flood out in a singular breach of catharsis. Singer Zayna Youssef's voice is supple and impervious, sounding like Frances Quinlan at her best on a bad day, and Sean McCall's guitar work possesses an ambient and catchy kind of antagonism that can't be resisted, only negotiated with. Where the Heart is will get you in the feels whether you're ready for it, or not. 

Ben Shemie - Desiderata (Joyful Noise & Backward Music)

This album was a bit of a shock to me when I first heard it. Ben Shemie of SUUNS's solo album Desiderata was presented to me as a dystopian, synth-based and sci-fi-inspired concept album- a description that shrieks Carpenter OST knock-off as loudly as an ambulance-siren blaring, and engulfed in flames-toppling off the roof of a parking garage. Not the case for Desiderata, as it turns out. Instead, Ben's use of synths is that of a partisan duelist, playing an environmental foil to insurgent string arrangments (courtesy of the Molinari String Quartet) to transmit pinning codas via a relay of electro-pop soul. The lyrics and their delivery are particularly interesting and literate, proceeding as clear-sighted and warmly calm; they read like the euphemistic dialectic of an anonymous neural-net diarist, whose decrypted digital scripts describe the dreams and deathless endurance that stoke a fire in his chest, a blaze that powers the machinery of his heart and soul, and protects him against the battering blizzard of a heartless world. It's fiction, of course, but it imitates life in a manner that leaves a chill running down my spine... or is it that life has come to imitate the dark art we once used to satirize it? It's becoming increasingly hard to tell. We are all children, lost in the ruins of one of Orwell's dreams. 

Dana Gavanski - When It Comes (Flemish Eye)

There is something about '60s baroque pop that continues to be irrepressible. Year after year, artists revive its hazy focus, jutting rhythms and whistful singing- frolicking in the fountain of Aquarius to taste the fruits and youthful optimism of a prior generation. On her second album, When It Comes, Dana Gavanski has emerged from this pool of inspiration like a vision of Venus in a petticoat and high-waisted slacks, calling out in a siren's coo that weaves its way down the coastline like a psychedelic sidewinder. The wavering whipple of farfisa-like prog chords waltz with sax and strings in the wrinkled undertow of "The Day Unfolds," and "I Kiss The Night" slivers the dam between a piano concerto and sleepy daydream gush. Dana seems to be taking every opportunity to play with her voice and enjoy the feeling of it rising through her body- it is a wonderful feeling to share with her audience, seeing as she lost the use of it during the recording of the album due to an illness. Triumphing in recovery, the roguish scamper of her performance is unassailable and delightful.

Tha God Fahim - Six Ring Champ (Nature Sounds)

Tha God Fahim is having a blast on Six Ring Champ. The LP was produced by himself, Camoflauge Monk, Nicholas Craven, and Thrasherwulf, but they all seem to approach the album with a unity of intention- namely, to give Fahim the setting he needs to be his most grandiose self. Layering striding gangster flick basslines, hidden-lair horn trills, and the groan of lethargic burlesque house strings, amongst other b-movie backing-track mainstays, these fat and greasy beats enable Fahim to keep his direct and steady flow, nimble and on the balls of its feet, allowing him to glide around your ears like a boxer on figure skates, hitting you with a right hook on one side and then a slicing crescent kick on the other. Fahim is a cut-up with some sick skills and he deserves all six of those rings he is boasting about.  

Acid Coco - Camino Al Mar (El Palmas Music)

I think what works for me about Acid Coco's Camino Al Mar is how easy it is to enjoy. Whenever I throw it on, I lose a full thirty minutes of my day just grooving on it. The group combines various forms of Columbian folk and dance (primarily cumbia) with electro-pop influences without managing to feel cliched or derivative. Instead, their blended sound is smooth and gratifying, possessed of a rhythmic vibrancy, spiked by mousseux guitars and damp earthen textures. A wonderful collection of tactile sounds bathed in a sweat of satisfaction and the scents of the night and the sea. 

Fuera De Sektor - El Mundo Sigue (La Vida Es Un Mus Discos)

Influenced by Uruguayan punk bands like Traidores, Fuera De Sektor have whipped up a four-round fight titled El Mundo Sigue. The band has a distinctly hooky new wave style, with a deathly edge, favoring guitar work that minces through the mix with a menacing metallic glare. The two things that jump out at me the most on this release are the vocalist's fluid acidic sneer and the way the guitars cut through the songs like scissors through spandex. The elements of the band's sound have a pin and pin-cushion relationship, where some parts feel like they can be molded in your hand while others are seemingly designed to puncture your palm like a skewer through a ripe grapefruit. The dichotomy is dangerously alluring and I'm not scared to concede that it's got its hooks into me. 

'Kechi - 'Kechi Tunez (OJUBA Music)

Chicago rapper and producer 'Kechi tells you all you need to know about his latest album on the opening track of his LP 'Kechi Tunez when he says, "I guess the whole idea is being in tune with myself." If this doesn't resonate with you, then I'm not sure why you're reading this blog. 'Kechi is figuring out what he is capable of and following the beat of his own drummer. Which is pretty much what I am doing with this blog as well... although I have to admit that 'Kechi's efforts are producing something quite a bit more impressive. 'Kechi has a secure and untaxing but slippery flow that is easy to get caught up in and his beats have a golden-era R&B glint to their reverent, lively pulse that is half spiritual, half blockbusting heat. If I have one complaint, it's that 'Kechi is too modest about what he's accomplished on this record.

Chelsea Jade - Soft Spot (Carpark Records)

Chelsea Jade performs bright and boiling pop and R'nB that leans into the minimalistic and understated. In most places on Soft Spot there isn't much more than a beat and her voice, and it doesn't need to be more. Her voice kisses your ears like the gust of a whispering sigh on the silken funk, pillow-talk slink of "Optimist," while a little later, she sends you rolling like a disco ball into a soccer net with the neon-upgraded, bass-loaded sweep of the neo-soul revival "Good Taste." This whole album is very easy to get lost in and will stick with me for a long while after the last note has dispersed into the air. Soft Spot makes for a smooth landing but a lasting impression. 

Into the Red - Velocity (Self-Released)

In the Red tapped out this past July but not before releasing the Velocity EP. While primarily a vintage-sounding alternative rock group with twinkle-core tendencies, In the Red could smoothly shift gears to accommodate any introspective terrain a song might call for. Opener "Sunsets on Mars" is tinted with shades of Smith-ian longing while awash in a dreamy sadness, while "Reaching for the Rope" rides a  sly skyrocketing vocal arch and a major-key guitar lift to soar into the glow of an arena-sized spotlight. A little later, the band loosens up for a robust power-pop romp titled "Neptune's Shore," encircling its buzz-bomb riffs with a golden haze of psych-pop shimmer. All good things must come to an end and In the Red are retiring before any signs of rust form on their chassis. You have to respect the choice to hang it up when they're in peak performance mode. Shows a lot of guts. 

Pill Super - Ghost Reel (Self-Released)

Caden Marchese of American slowcore band American Grandma has a supple and spry new electronic album under the name Pill Super, an album which he dubs Ghost Reel. Going in, I was definitely expecting a more subdued experience, but was delighted to be inundated with a resonating flow of pulsing, lustrous sonic cannonade instead. These tracks really move! Especially the twinkling, cascading extravasation of "At Last," the leap-frogging croak of "Under the Span," and the pattering, ring-riding, dream pool diver "Steam One." I dig the new age vibes and tranquility cultivated on the comforting spirit-signal ringlet "When You See It" too. I really hope to hear more from this project soon, but there is so much happening on Ghost Reel that there might not be enough leftovers to patch together a sequel for a while. I guess we'll just have to wait and see with our fingers crossed.  

McCall - ...to be a dream... (Self Released) 

LA singer/songwriter McCall describes her latest LP ...to be a dream... as a "digital scrapbook"- a place for her to put all the memories, triumphs, and more ignoble moments that have brought her to this point in her life. It's a mature album, dealing with themes of letting go as well as trust, explored through the guileless whisper of McCall's polished serenades- a buoyant performance seated in a chariot of shapeshifting electronics that coasts along and often breaches the ethereal plane and domain of down-to-earth digital goddess Imogen Heap. How high can one rise in a dream before piercing the tension of its rainbow-tainted membrane? McCall is about to find out. Cutting through the confines and limits of one's own imagination is what ...to be a dream... is all about, so I guess she'll let us know once she gets there. Or maybe she'll just go sailing off into the stars without a postcard or even a backward glance...

 

exciting!!excellent!! - tysm​!​!​!​!​!​! (Lonely Ghost Records)

exciting!!excellent!! second EP tysm!!! is more of what I've grown to appreciate about the project. Enthusiastic declarations of introspective self-recognition backed by dynamic and catchy Little Sound DJ powered Game Boy electronics that resemble renditions of Tiger Jaw and Brave Little Abacus unlocked with the help of a GameGenie designed by Elaiza Santos. And like its predecessor (debut EP i feel like i deserve to feel like this forever and i will), it is an incredibly cozy listen. I feel like I could lounge around in tysm!!!'s sound card cush forever; eating snacks under a pile of blankets, playing Spyro while thinking about life in general, or better yet, thinking about nothing at all. tysm!!! takes me to a place I don't want to leave and that's one of the things I really appreciate about it.

Megamall - Escape From Lizard City (Fanta Records)

It's Vancouver's Megamall vs the radioactive kaiju that dwells in the underwater vault of your mind on their latest EP Escape From Lizard City! Inspired by the works of author Tom Robbins, the album does battle with elephantine expressions of firebreathing egotism and other green-eyed no-goodniks while fashioning out some uncommonly good pop-centric alternative rock. At this point, I'd say Megamall is a model-vintage variant of the Pixies, harnessing Joey Santiago's chattering surf-riffage and Black Francis's wailing, half-whispered ululates to stir a slightly sweetened Bully-esque bob and a dodgy Dilly Dally dipped dose of an Eros-elevating intoxicant that will instigate a twitterpated flight into a credulous swoon and twelve floors of graduated epiphany. Also, the songs are catchy as fuck. 

Ellevator - The Words You Spoke Still Move Me (Arts & Crafts)

Big hooks and even bigger choruses coming out of Ontario these days thanks to Ellevator. Their debut LP, The Words You Spoke Still Move Me has the confident push and dingy, sweat-smeared panache of Metric, coupled with the naive crush-carnival bow of one of Carly Rae Jepsen's more rock-out-loud moments. Classic, new romantic zeal and post-garage revival pressurized pop-valiance, generating a hardboiled party catalyst with a gooey sweet interior. The vocals have a slight, damp, dirt-warn twang to them that helps them sound all the more angelic for their evident humanity, and the guitars shift and splinter in raining fragments of light like sunbeams catching a prism as it falls to the floor. Fantastic stuff all around. 

Interview: Mannasseh

Portrait of a man by Seed Lynn

I had the pleasure of talking with local soul singer Mannasseh for the CHIRP Radio Artist Interview Series about his new album Monochromatic Dream, the collaborations that made it possible, his work as a vocal coach, and the importance of interpreting your dreams and allowing them to guide your actions. 

You can stream Monochromatic Dream here. 

Listen to our conversation here, or below:

CHIRP Radio · Manasseh Interview

Album Review: Kaina - It Was A Home

The transition from KAINA's Next to The Sun to It Was A Home is more drastic than anticipated. Especially since they are both produced by Sooper Records label chief (or at least one of them) Sen Morimoto. Next to The Sun was focused, as the title implies, on allowing the soul singer to find a favorable place to align herself amongst the stars. It tangled with the interwoven nest of roots that form her identity as a first-generation immigrant born in Chicago through reflections set to Latin jazz and songs that reminisced on the golden era of Motown. If her previous album found the singer homesteading in her past, It Was A Home sees her fledging spectacularly from this enclave of security.

The compositions, while still hinting at a certain relish for Latin music, often curl themselves around various forms of light psychedelia, scintillating pop-soul, and warm, reassuring R'nB. The title track itself feels like a walking tour with wine and Whitney Houston down a detour within memory lane, up to and including the grand sway of KAINA's melodious musings, and the accompaniment of some plunky synth notes that guide the grove and which land on the ears like dewdrops on flower pedals. 

Many of these compositions feel pared back compared to KAINA's debut, which points to the growing sense of assurance that the singer has in her vocal abilities, as well as the maturing instincts of Sen as a producer. A song like "Good Feeling" (a track which I presume Sen plays guitar on) is perfectly balanced in a way that only a producer who has allowed their ego to be dispersed into the layers of a song can accomplish. Its equilibrium subsists in a nurtured interplay between flirty synths that dart around like hummingbirds and rippling, lubricated guitar work that sounds like it is cresting out of the overflow cistern of Nick Hakim's Green Twins- an invigorating plash of summer sun-kisses and humidity cutting sprits of sustenance that help KAINA's coo sound as refreshing as a strawberry slushy sipped on a rooftop patio in July. 

KAINA's collaborations on It Was A Home further expand the dimensions and potentialities of her performance on the brooding and progressive neon burn of "Ultraviolet," which bears the singing gleam of Sleater-Kinney's Corin and Carrie's contemplative angst, and the funky, bubble-bass bop and wiggle-wave synth-psyche of "Blue" featuring Helado Negro. 

While Helado certainly brings some bumping grooves to the album, the real funk doesn't drop until after it's been polished to a delicious rosy hue and set for display on the swooning riggle and jive of "Apple," a number that calls back to a pre-Y2K era of R'nB with its nimble, darting flow and skronky guitar leads. Later, the album's wayward psyche-soul tendencies find their full embrace in the lapping Caribbean-scented calm of "Golden Mirror" which leads and then leaves with a wave and a promise of future romance and adventures. 

KAINA is certainly pressing against her boundaries on this It Was A Home, but with every graceful shove, she expands the plat on which she can lay her ultimate claim. 

On City Slang. 

Album Review: Shormey - Boogie Tape Vol 1.

Boogie Tape Vol 1. is undeniable. That's it. And that's enough. The 2019 tape from the Virginia-based solo, pop singer and producer Shomey is her most concise statement of work as well as her most plainly infectious. This may be hard to believe, but its effect isn't owed to anything that pulls the listener in or that forces a response out of them. The music just kind of leaves you alone. It lets you be. And that's why it feels so gracious and important. It lets you come to it, allowing you to set the pace of your approach. Knowing that once you get a glimpse, it's going to be hard not to want to see more. This softly persuasive formulation to pop music is definitely unique and definitely necessary in a media environment that often feels bullying in its demand for your attention. Shomey's work is not only beautiful but softly powerful. It feels firmly empathic how both independent and complimentary the melodies and grooves of the opening tracks of the Boogie tape are. The wavy soul of "Boogie Island," with its cozy sauna of lofi organs, playfully bats at the vocals like a cat with a silver ball of yarn, feels delightfully permissive and receptive to your mood- portraying a sense of openness that is maintained on the juicy disco fog of "Cruise!" It's all magnificent. I'm a sucker for '70s era sounds, so obviously, I love this tape. But upon reflection, I don't know that Shomey could achieve what she does on this release without pulling from the aforementioned decade. That era just had a kind of "go-your-own-way" vibe to it and its aesthetics seems to lend to her work a philosophy of personal fulfillment and satisfaction that is hard to argue with or turn down. Not that I'm inclined to, mind you. 
 

Citrus City released this one. 

New Noise Bandcamp Friday Picks: Feb '22

I wrote another rec list for New Noise to celebrate Bandcamp Friday today. Many of the recs here are for albums that dropped last year. 2021 was a particularly good year as far as stuff I am interested is concerned so I will probably be writing about albums from the last 12 months for the next 12 months. There are a few albums that dropped in January though, and I feel like I am managing to keep up with the flow of releases, in my own obscure way. Hopefully, you find something on the list you enjoy. 

You can check out my write-ups here: https://newnoisemagazine.com/column/new-noises-bandcamp-friday-picks-february-2022/

Included in this month's list: 

Fit For An Autopsy – Oh What The Future Holds (Nuclear Blast)

Lady Wray – Pieces of Me (Big Crown Records)

Xenia Rubinos – Una Rosa (Anti- Records)

Taking Meds – Terrible News From Wonderful Men (SmartPunk)

Slant – 1집 (Iron Lung Records)

Bug Love – Judge ( Self-Released)

Curly Castro – Little Robert Hutton (BackWoodz Studioz)

Fuss – We’re Not Alone (Phat ‘n’ Phunky)

Age of Apocalypse – Grim Wisdom (Closed Casket Activities)

Noir Disco – Now! 2073 (Self-Released)

Life’s Question – LP Promo 2021 (Triple B Records)

VHS – I Heard They Suck​.​.​.​Blood (Wise Blood Records)

Album Review: Yellow Pills - The Strange Casino, Space Age Inferno & Machines That Go Beep

Chicago has its fair share of diamonds hidden in the closet studios and barely rehabbed, former-manufacturing, now budget practice spaces that litter the city. Some of the artists who immerge from these pocket dimensions are people you know. Others you will recognize on some distant day in the future, when their passion and prowess can no longer be denied. Still, others would rather that they never be found, preferring the freedom allotted them by obscurity. I'm not sure which Ryan Miera and Yellow Pills was aiming to be, but I somehow managed to find him. His secret is out now, like it or not! 

Yellow Pills is Ryan's solo project. Something that he uses to vent musical digressions that would be too difficult to follow with his other band, local indie surf rockers, The Limbos. Born with the name Yellow Candy almost a decade ago, the project has been on hiatus for most of that time, and was only picked up again to help Ryan ward off the onset of madness that could have overtaken him during the COVID-19 shut down last year. And to signal its new direction, the project was rechristened Yellow Pills (also, someone else had started using Yellow Candy, and being a gentleman, Ryan decided to let them have it). 

Since reviving the project Ryan has managed to release three separate LPs, listed here in order of appearance: The Strange Casino, Space Age Inferno, and Machines That Go Beep. While there is significant overlap between Yellow Pills's aesthetic and Ryan's work with The Limbos, the real heart of the project lies in its zeal for experimentation- diving into the fresh and welcoming waters of jazz, funk and hip-hop. These spin drifting bursts of creativity are beautifully realized, coherent and self-contained- presented with a winking sense of absurdist pessimism and troublesome levity that invitingly reminds the listener of Stephin Merritt's wry resistance to creative constraints and Kevin Barnes's seeming capacity to reproduce and irreverently warp any and every sound in the Western pop cannon. 

Taken on the whole, Yellow Pills's catalog already represents something unique within Chicago's underground- a blending of familiar pop elements in a way that is both comforting and unpredictable.  And because I am nothing if not a complete simp for incorrigible underground music, I'm going to take a look at each of these releases and let you know what I think. Someone has to document Yellow Pill's evolution, might as well be someone with my insights, devilish good looks, and obsessive personality... but that's enough about me, let's get to the reviews... 

The Strange Casino

This is the starting point of Yellow Pill's revival. As the cover image implies, this first release is very fitting for some spiritual convalescence in a garden-level rumpus room. It's atmospheric, relaxing, and indulgent. Most of the tracks revolve around a single melodic motif, written and performed for either guitar and piano, and very seldomly, accompanied by vocals. The first couple of tracks start out as mody '60s reverb-soaked surf and R'nB. But before you know, it the lights have dimmed and the mood will have shifted to one of more active lounging- sinking fast into the smokey bebopping grooves of "Salami" and the drowsy waltz of "Sleeping Rosiland." The Strange Casino is music for spaces where you're not expected to get anything of value accomplished and where a drink and a padded barstool are all the company you need for the evening. If you're doing anything more than letting yourself unwind while softly nodding your head and tapping your toes to this record, I'm going to have to pour you a glass of something a little stronger than what you're currently sipping. This is not an album that asks a whole lot of you. Take it up on its offer to coalesce within its unobtrusive vibes. The Strange Casino album is a humble beginning to the project's second phase, and I suspect it is that way by design. 

Space Age Inferno

Space Age Inferno feels like Ryan really hitting his stride with Yellow Pills. This is clearly a production-focused album, with Ryan testing his skills through the mixing process, and making some wonderfully calming dance music in the process. "Midnight Secrets" sounds like it originated from a late-night live DJ set during a college radio broadcast somewhere in early '00s Detriot, while "J's Little Jam" has an upscale kind of elegance to the swagger of its bright and strutting glide. The throwback electronic dance music might form the highlights, but that doesn't mean it's all Space Age Inferno has to offer. The album forays back into jazz for the tranquil typhoon of trumpet and guitar melodies, locked in a wordless duet on "The Short Walk," while wondering into new territory with the obtuse piano-rock of "Olo Como Esta," and the bastardized jellied blues and sharp-toothed jazz that congeal together on "The Preacher." This album is not just more ambitious than its predecessor; it is a marked improvement over it in every way. With the release of Space Age Inferno, Yellow Pills has become a group to watch. An unknown quantity of rolling, elastic potential. 

Machines That Go Beep

Machines That Go Beep isn't a bad album by any means, but it's hard not to see it as a step backward from Space Age Inferno. At least when it comes to the beginning. While on the previous album it felt like Ryan had found a unique voice for the project, blending electronic music with jazz and soul, while taking frequent left turns down blind allies of intent and exploration, Machines seems to blunt the momentum of that previous release, almost on purpose. Machines That Go Beep begins with two south of the border, surf 'n rollers straight of a Los Striaghtjackets or Red Elvises b-side. It's very primo stuff, but it's not as inspired as what we know Ryan's capable of. After these first couple of tracks, Machines recovers with "Operation Human Kills Clone" which picks up the cold, cosmic simmer left echoing in the air from Inferno, and does so with impeccable confidence and flare. And it really only gets better from there. "I don't really like you anymore. Like as a person" is a crisp dub infused jam with a fresh breakbeat and star-spinning synth melody, while "This is what we call a Texas" rides the whiplash of a groovy Latin rhythm, and "Making Out Or Whatever" feels like it could be the backing track to some rare soul and jazz fusion that could have been a regional radio hit in Southern California circa 1971. Then there is a down-and-out acoustic punk track ("Just One More Time") and even stabs at contemporary, small ensemble chamber-folk ("The Lantern").  Machines That Go Beep starts out a little rough, but still manages to provide ample reminders of why Yellow Pills is one of the more versatile and unpredictable solo projects in Chicago's underground. 

Album Review: Nnavy - Blue

There are a couple of artists making versions of R'nB right now using some version of the word "navy" as their nom de plume; I will be talking about the one from Switzerland tonight- the one who goes by Nnavy. It also bears mentioning, that of all the "Navy(s)" in the world at the moment, there is another with an EP with practically the same title as Nnavy's. The subject of this review though, spells the name of her EP "Blue"- standard English, just like the way you were taught in school. What isn't standard though, is Nnavy's talent- and it's not something you can pick up in a classroom, either. I think Nnavy's kind of patient, soulful harmonic vocabulary and smooth terpsichorean embellishments are things you learn by living and trying to learn from love. They come from self-instruction, rather than the kind you encounter in a lecture hall... unless your reason for being in that oratory hall is to pass a note to someone you'd like to meet for coffee later. Are you getting the picture? The Burundi born artist, describes Nina Simone as an inspiration, and while I can definitely see that in spirit, but the sonics of her elegant arrangments, as well as the pop-gospel quality of her melodies, seems more reminiscent of major studio releases by R'nB artists in the early '00s - artists who attempted to appeal to a more serious-minded audience then fickle teens who would lounge in front of MTV while lazily completing their afterschool assignments after school. There isn't any hint of a put-on with Blue though, and it feels as genuine as they come. Blue is as sincerely seductive and disarmingly earnest- a companion cherished confessions that will capture you in its rich eminence.

Buy Blue from here. 

Album Review: mndsgn. - Rare Pleasure

I wrote about this rare gem of an album from mndsgn. for New Noise today. Take a trip back to the '70s with Rare Pleasure. Link below: 

Review: https://newnoisemagazine.com/bandcamp-of-the-day-mndsgn/

Buy: https://www.stonesthrow.com/

Album Review: Emma-Jean Thackray - Yellow

You know, there was a lot riding on British composer and ensemble player Emma-Jean Thackray's debut LP Yellow. Thankfully it meets all of the expectations I could have placed on it. As it should. Not everyone gets their own imprint on Warp Records. Because when they do, they are instantly elevated to an artistic standing where it is appropriate to name them in the same breath as geniuses gurus of the likes of Flying Lotus. Such an event is akin to pulling Excaliber from a stone and suddenly finding yourself the king of the realm. Or queen in this case... and the sword is also a bent trumpet, and the bolder is a laptop with a failing hard drive... this metaphor is getting complicated. Where were we again? Oh yeah, Emma-Jean's LP! 

Emma-Jean's, self-produced, full-length release isn't like many other jazz albums at present. Not even those produced by her contemporaries in the London soul and jazz revival- even those on offer by the resplendent Nubya Garcia, or the strikingly elegant Moses Boyd. The closest comparison I can think of to how Yellow sounds and feels to me is Damon Locks and the Black Monument Ensemble's album NOW from earlier this year. It's the only thing that I can think of which matches the same wavelength of irrepressible energy. They're both ensemble albums (obviously) and are both albums that remove their namesake and organizer from any sort of visible (or a guess, in this case, audible) role- instead, allowing their collaborators to produce the force and intensity necessary to bring the respective albums to life. I suppose this is in part due to both Emma-Jean and Damon's emphasis on interpretation and improvisation- letting their collaborators own their performance in the moment of creation, even when they are under the direct supervision of the composer (Emma-Jean & Damon) as producer. Both albums are also inspired by a certain vision of transcendence. For Damon, this transcendence takes the form of a dream of emancipation from apartheid and the current conditions of oppression experienced by black people in Chicago and elsewhere. While this is clearly a goal of Emma-Jean's as well, the ecstatic and visionary nature of her work takes on a more cosmic and spiritual tone in practice.

There is another musician who emerges from behind the curtain of my perception while listening to Yellow, and that is Alice Coltrane. There are no harps on Yellow, but there are many ecumenical prayers, and the journey which Emma-Jean embarks on is dynamically tethered to a shooting star which shot forth from Alice's creative cognition when she embarked on her quest to seek Satchidananda. There is a hymn in the midst of this generous generative genesis of grace called "May There Be Peace," a tonal supplication for centeredness and rejuvenation, stated in the planest of words, which acts as a focusing chakra, aligning the lush shimmer and bright, orchestral funk of "Sun," with the clamorous and celestial jazz of of "Mercury," exhibiting two of the many extrasensory impressions that the album reaches for and grasps, in complementary and diverse modes. In comparison, more sensual movements, like the gripping thump of "Green Funk" and the brisk and lean, golden-hued gospel of the title-track demonstrate the pliable and clay-like flesh from which the album is carved- acting as its anchor in the world of fresh dirt, and clean water, and refreshing currents of breathable air. Most evocative of the album's overall message though, is the light-funk, fusion drop and dizzy slide of "Say Something," which extols the merit of openness and love expressed through words and actions- emploring the listener, not just to speak, but to say the words that reside in the beat-keeping box in the barrel of their chest. 

Music can't heal all the pain that resides in the world. But through it, we can at least feel something in unison with each other. And maybe, that can be the start of a dialogue. One that can hurdle boundaries that separate our lives and limit our impressions of what each has to offer the other. Not in a crass exchange of value as we experience in our everyday consumer culture, but as people: members of a potential community of souls, with individual experiences, memories, thoughts, feelings, hopes and dreams, and each driven by a thirst for meaning. Next time you meet someone, whether they be an old acquaintance, or someone you are just getting to know- don't just say what you've been programmed to say by countless frictionless interactions in your past. Instead, tell them what really matters to you, and what that moment demands of you both. Form a bond with them, and let it mold to the individual shape of your hearts and palms. You might just be surprised at what brave new adventure this measured moment of truth ushers you both into. 

Pick up Yellow from Movementt Records. 

Album Review: 26 BATS! - Portal Party

Wrote a little thing about the new album from MN experimental pop group 26 Bats! for New Noise. Press against the limits of possibility and check out what I had to say about Portal Party below: 

Portal Party review: https://newnoisemagazine.com/bandcamp-of-the-day-26-bats/

Buy Portal Party: https://26bats.bandcamp.com/album/portal-party

Album Review: Sekou Bah - Soukabbe Mali

I've decided that I'm over the album cycle routine. I really do not care about staying on trend with releases. Instead, I'm just going to use this blog to write about whatever I find interesting while prioritizing music that has dropped within the past ten years. To that end, I want to talk about Sekou Bah. Sekou is a Malian multi-instrumentalist whose background in jazz informs his 2018 album Soukabbe Mali, a voyage into the lapping tides of afrobeat and Caribean music, combining more traditional aspects of Malian folk music into more popular, global styles to unleash their universalist appeal and convey a message of cross-cultural, and cross-generational respect. It’s a pretty relaxing sonic expose that is perfect for a summer night when the moon is full and the air is still and warm. Throughout the entire album, Sekou sings in his native tongue, which does nothing to obscure the content of his clandestine, communiqué of comradery. There are hip wiggling groves paired with sensual melodies on “Dogon Oulon," while funk guitars give life to a plaintive ballad on “Nge Mounkila," and soulful riffs and interjecting bass-heavy percussion (with the odd, propulsive, semi-blast-beat... really) guide the title track “Soukabbe Mali.” The infectious rhythm of “Wari Tigui” has a danceable pull, and the plucky, jazzy guitar riffs which tango with call and response vocals form the bedrock of “Fifi.” The album is partially dedicated to Sekou’s bassist, Amadou Keita, who tragically died in an automobile accident just weeks after recording the album. Soukabbe Mali is an album about struggle, sure, but also peace and kindness, and it might sound corny, but god damn do we need more to both these days. 

Soukabbe Mali is out via Soukabbe Mali Clermont Records. 

Album Review: - Lianne La Havas - Self-Released

This has been out for a while but that's not going to stop me from talking about it. I feel kind of hypnotized by this album. I keep coming back to it, and if you've heard it yourself, it won't be hard to understand why. It's gorgeous. Effortlessly so. Lianne La Havas's self-titled album has the quality of a naturally forming oasis. Appearing first as an illusion on the horizon- it becomes more real and rejuvenating the closer you get and the more time you spend with it. It takes a lot of effort to sound this good. But you have to have the raw talent for it to be worth the exertion. You can't build something this sturdy out of spit and string from a vision board, and Lianne doesn't need to try. She is working with only the finest of materials here- her voice, her intangible knack for poetry, and a graceful sense of melody. "Read My Mind" has a delicate inevitability to it, a fateful dream plucked out on the strings of the heart. Later, "Seven Times" introduces Brazilian guitars to create a cleansing mix of prayer and patience, and "Soul Flower" builds and bursts through cycles of affirmation and refraction, making space for recuperation and healing in furrows of rich and delicate grooves and percussion that shares the quality of applause. I'm becoming chuffed just recalling its effect on me. Excuse me while I lay on the flow and just let it flow over me... for like, the twentieth time in the past year. 

You can get a copy of Lianne La Havas album from Nonsuch here. 

Album Review: Patrick Paige II - If I Fail Are We Still Cool?

I wrote about the funky and freshly minted new album from The Internet's Partick Page II for NEe Noise today. You can read what I had to say at the links below. Respect the bass. 

Read my review of If I Fail Are We Still Cool? here. 

Buy If I Fail Are We Still Cool? here. 

Interview: Layton Wu

Image courtesy of Layton Wu

I had the chance to speak with Taiwanese soul and funk producer Layton Wu 雷頓狗 for CHIRP Raio this week. We talked about his latest release Summertime Mixtape, the origins of his name, how he discovered his love for hip-hop and how his training as a computer scientist informs his approach to making music.

You can get a copy of Summertime Mixtape here.

Listen to the interview on CHIRP's site here, or below:

CHIRP Radio · Layton Wu Interview

Album Review: Lucas Santtana - 3 Sessions In A Greenhouse

Lucas Santtana is an innovative Brazilian singer, songwriter, and producer, who has been working diligently at his craft for decades. Even if you count yourself as someone who cares about and follows Brazillian music, you might not have heard about him. His one mistake was making music prior to the advent of the internet, and particularly before the incredible flattening of world media, which seems to have accelerated mightily in the past five years alone. Globalizing information networks has had a high human cost, but one of the few benefits is that it's easier than ever to find music that transcends barriers of language and culture. One such masterpiece that has finally been excavated and distributed due to the reach of the information super... I mean, the internet is so broad and all-encompassing now that calling it a highway seems to improperly narrow the metaphor... endless information super parking lot? I'll keep workshopping it. Anyway, Lucas Santtana's 3 Sessions In A Greenhouse has resurfaced thanks to Mais Um Discos in celebration of its 15th anniversary, with a fresh remasting and tune-up thanks to Germany producer Pole, and I could not be more pleased. 

I was not familiar with this record at all before it was reissued, now I'm not sure I'll ever be able to listen to tropicália or dub again without hearing its echo. Recorded over three exulted evenings with the aid of living legends like Tom Zé, Gilmar Bola 8, and others, the record focuses a number of Central American musical traditions into a bright and durable fusion that will raise the temperature of your consciousness to a refined fever in order to heal and inoculate the soul from the predatory burdens of the past. The songs on 3 Sessions In A Greenhouse are transparently in search of a freedom that can't be named, but only felt. And believe me, they are feeling their way there. 

The gentle chameleon-like transitions of songs like "A Natureza Espera," with its rare reggae flow, that carries with it an indulgent, spoken-word recital of an excerpt from Virginia Wolf's The Waves, a segment that somehow manages not to be the focal point of the song, but rather only its threshold, as it runs into the drizzling ripple of the second half, where a trusting partnership of patient beats and warm, sweeping horn lifts elevate a second proclamation, this one in Portuguese, as a thematic counterweight to the prior section. It's the type of alchemical relation of elements you can expect from Santtana. A construct that will point you in a direction that has hitherto not been identified on a man-made map, as easily as a stranger might offer you directions to a cafe while waiting at a bus stop. 

You may think that such an elegant passage would be the sole highlight of the album, but you'd be wrong. The progressive psychedelia of the spine flossing, shoe-leerer and brooding samba-clash "Into Shade" threads complex moods and influences in a way that will put you slightly off-balance while remaining deeply enticing. And I'm sure you'll be delighted by opener "Awô Dub," which enters with an air of international noirish flair and leaves with a sense of finality, seemingly having put an Imperial stooge in a body-bag, as well as the bossa bite of "Tijolo A Tijolo, Dinheiro A Dinheiro," which will lap at the back of your neck like a jaguar contemplating whether you're an easier catch than a Capybara lounging at a nearby pond.

3 Sessions In A Greenhouse is an incredibly unique collection of extremely skilled yet grounded performances that will make you feel like you've been transported to an Interzone where possibilities blossom like fields of pink begonias.   

Get a copy of this album on CD and vinyl via Mais Um here.