She\u2019s ridiculous: in addition to being the best talk-rapper alive, she\u2019s already historically good at rocking in the fifth octave with pop clarity, and you don\u2019t need me to reprint the much-quoted oh-snap lines (my fave remains \u201Cblah blah blah.\u201D) Not yet a historically great singer of slow ones\u2014gotta save something for the third album\u2014she can express commonplace emotions in the full knowledge that they\u2019re commonplace without diminishing their intensity. Despite being excellent at everything the entertainment-industrial complex has asked of her, love, being illogical, has been harder. Overachiever that she is, she\u2019s made the most of that too. She\u2019s a bitch/lover/child\u2014not mother, gotta save something for the seventh album\u2014and, pace Meredith Brooks, there\u2019s never a sense that her inhabiting of disjoint identities is mere preening. She makes her initial recognition of her irrationality feel so Bildungsromany, her insecurities (unjustified but you try telling your insecurities that) so palpable. The only reasonable complaint is that there are too many non-power ballads, and after I decided \u201CMaking the Bed\u201D is a revealing piece of writing and \u201CTeenage Dream\u201D is a thematically necessary ending, that leaves literal poetry class product \u201CLacy\u201D. And even there I have to admire her trying to go strength for strength with Big Sis Taylor, by far her top similarity score (now that Billie Eilish has revealed, to the surprise of few, that she was a weirdo art kid all along.) Both want to give the sense of having wisdom beyond their years to help and sell to their audience, and if it\u2019s more plausible that Rodrigo has that insight, even in the Fearless era Swift was savvy enough to realize that the appearance of it might be the essential thing. It could still turn out Rodrigo is merely ridiculous at the technical aspects of songmaking, whereas Taylor, despite having not made an LP this complete in fifteen years, has long proved herself a genius. But being the realest ain\u2019t nothing.
The Norwegian stars of this record (on Finnish label Ultra\u00E4\u00E4ni) are the Skeidsvoll brothers: composer Isach on piano, Lauritz on soprano sax, and Peder on pocket trumpet. Joined by Espen \u201CBobby\u201D Songstad\u2014good name\u2014on tenor, Aksel \u00D8vre\u00E5s R\u00F8ed on baritone, and a sturdy rhythm section, they have the personnel to blow up a racket, and they often do. \u201CBury Me Under a Four-Leaf Clover\u201D careens through a South African-sounding head and flits free and back before Songstad goes apeshit. The fourteen-minute \u201CBeer\u201D has a middle section that\u2019s perhaps too abstract and sometimes I can hear vocals, but at the beginning, there\u2019s a R\u00F8ed motif that the rest of the ensemble blows over with jazz funeral wildness (not worrying about being too in tune), and at the end, the motif returns low-key and hungover. \u201CHobo\u201D is heavy as heck thanks to Isach\u2019s hands, which periodically threaten to drag the band into a whole other tonality. The streaming-only \u201CBolero for People Feeling Blue\u201D is one of the great celebratory pieces of recent years, with Isach back to roleplaying Chris McGregor, keeping things marching back to the tonic while the horns go on pointed explorations: Peder modest as befitting the size of his instrument, Lauritz in a parallel key, Songstad and R\u00F8ed blowing big notes. All that\u2019s missing is an amapiano one.
E Funk Impumelelo Mp3 Download
Download File 🔥 https://urlin.us/2yGBjg 🔥
The inspirational tapestries in question are mixed-media pieces by Lance Johnson that appear abstract but allude to graffiti and to the use of quilts for transmitting messages on the Underground Railroad. The music, a live hour in the Columbus burbs, takes a little while to settle in and then more than pays off. \u201CDreams\u201D (red dominant, yellow and white scribbles) uses Lomax\u2019s cymbals and Dean Hulett\u2019s bowed bass to create a dreamscape reminiscent of Homer Simpson\u2019s hot pepper hallucination, with Edwin Bayard dropping shamanic statements on sax. \u201CGlorious Harmony\u201D (yellow and red pieces with scratches and patterns overlaid) starts with all three of them going percussive, before a syncopated tune breaks out, and it is glorious in its unassuming way. \u201CA Few of My Favorite Things\u201D (reds and oranges with text like \u201CCULTURE\u201D and, well, \u201CJAZZ\u201D) explores their common likes such as Ellington and Coltrane and hip hop, and if they\u2019re least convincing on the last of these, the track features Bayard\u2019s most imaginative playing. Lomax remains perhaps America\u2019s most underrated jazzbo; what New York and Chicago are missing out on is Ohio\u2019s gain.
As in Brazilian grime. Febem and Fleezus are very credible rappers, and although I have little idea what their slang-rich bars mean, save for footballers\u2019 names and one line about wanting churrasco in the favela, they throw in a bunch of onomatopoeia so I can nod along with their dig-dins and the like. Beatmaker CESRV takes a broad view of what constitutes grime, with a 2-step attitude that keeps the rappers on their toes amidst his inevitable modern trap trappings. As is the funk carioca fashion, just because he has a strong tune doesn\u2019t mean he feels you have to hear it every beat, or that it shouldn\u2019t be played underwater. Even \u201CYin Yang\u201D, on which the vocalists resort to North American-style Auto-Tunage, has its uses thanks to CESRV Brazilianizing the percussion, hitting snares early to tackle you like the S\u00E3o Paulo Corinthians player on the cover sending Eden Hazard flying. Chelsea may no longer make the Champions League of unethically funded soccer clubs, yet it\u2019ll always be satisfying to see.
Brooklyn teens record three tracks, on average about as good as, say, the median song on the A-side of Singles Going Steady. Songwriter-bassist KB Boyce is the obvious star, keeping the leatherette warm as a queer-pride metaphor that presumably appeared a lot more veiled in the Eighties than it does now. But also listen to the rhythm and lead guitars speed-riffing and shredding as well as anyone in the NYC area at the time, as well as Genji Searizak hi-hatting the crap out of period-accurate tinny cymbals. The tone-up change on \u201CGet to You\u201D works so well that they try it again with a more sophisticated power chord progression in \u201CCrazy \u2019bout You\u201D before climaxing in the original key. Under eight minutes, and that was all they wrote: the punkest of careers. Boyce now plays in trans-core supergroup The Homobiles while running POC-focused arts organization Queer Rebels, which is pretty punk too.
This follow-up to the great Uwami is packed with vocal and production guests adding variety and texture, with Black Low\u2019s quirks backgrounded to some extent. Still, while this album isn\u2019t as all-the-way avant-garde, he continues to push as far out as anyone else in amapiano. The tunes are now more conventional, going up or down where one would think they should go up or down. The innovation is that they\u2019re now embedded in the donks: the percussion is melodic, often in notatable ways, sometimes in a \u201CI could hum along to those snares\u201D way. There are more standard tunes as well\u2014even if the most memorable of those (on the unimaginatively titled \u201CLepiano\u201D) is ripped off from \u201CMas Que Nada\u201D, almost every song has a couple of vocal hooks to cling to. None of this is going to do Kabza De Small numbers (though I hope DJBL notes that the solo \u201CDrive Through\u201D is the most streamed track), but for a handful of nerds, some even in South Africa, it\u2019s the joint.
At her best, she combines club music and head music as well as anyone in greater R&B since early FKA Twigs, with hooks as cheap as a \u201Cching-ching\u201D in the Year of Our Lord 2023 allowing the what-was-that oddball noises to sneak up on you. The depth is in the beats, with genially shuffling snares and surprise rattles and the amapiano donk, here localized into something more like its analog cousin, the West African talking drum. As an Aries, I must say her writing doesn\u2019t always repay my attention: wittiest is the Weeknd-in-the-Orient \u201CWasted Eyes\u201D, about taking molly in a Tesla and/or taking Molly in a Tesla. But her vocals, deliberately restricted to her upper register, get across how much fjucking fun and fun fjucking she\u2019s having, daring you to call her out on their narrowness. The only flops are \u201CSex, Violence, Suicide\u201D\u2014punk? in those heels?\u2014and the power ballad closer, which requires low notes.
Brazil\u2019s (and Instagram\u2019s) reigning drag queen offered Noitada, twenty-two minutes of relatively straightforward from-the-favelas-to-the-club, in Feburary; the remix record After followed in July. Vittar\u2019s head voice doesn\u2019t have notable range; it\u2019s smooth and serviceable, however, and Noitada\u2019s varied settings put it to pleasant use without overtaxing it. After has harder state-of-the-art production, at the cost of occluding Vittar\u2019s sizable personality. Cyberkills turns \u201CDescontrolada\u201D into avant-baile, with aggressive interjections and buns-of-steel beats. I think Brunoso\u2019s \u201CDerretida\u201D is what they call \u201Ctechnobrega\u201D, which sounds like a mix of D&B and reggaeton with some bleepery for decoration. \u201CPenetra\u201D, about penetrating a party, gets transformed by Pedro Sampaio into EDM so mainstream one wonders if the party was worth penetr\u2026 wait, it\u2019s symbolic? No kidding. The albums are more effective as a pair, together offering a summary of contemporary Brazilian dance music, and an effective fjuck-the-haters.
Having gained some renown playing outdoors in NYC during COVID, Weinberg here shuffles towards the front of young saxists. He shows chops a-plenty jovially working through assorted modern modes, improvising serialist melodies as well as seeing how many ways he can color one approximate note. At times it sounds like a tenor\u2019s Speed Braxton, not the worst thing to sound like while you\u2019re working out your identity. \u201CTipped\u201D demonstrates particular facility in his lower register, varying repeating patterns and little ornaments with longer, more complex lines. His veteran rhythm section is content to play support, notwithstanding Lightcap getting the heavy bow out on \u201CAnytime a Pile\u201D. I\u2019d like to hear how Weinberg sounds in more challenging (to him) settings, but also wouldn\u2019t mind another volume of this stuff every couple of years. 152ee80cbc