JULY REVIEWS: AMINÉ, ARCADE FIRE, AVEY TARE, JAPANESE BREAKFAST

AMINÉ/GOOD FOR YOU, AND THE TYRANNY OF THE QUAVO FEATURE

How many variations on the same ideas and themes can the new faces of hip-hop in 2017 release before they find themselves retreading old ground creatively? Maybe this will come off grumpy or nostalgic, but I remember a time when major releases in hip hop were portraits of artists teeming with ideas and opinions that they could barely fit into their verses. I’m not talking about ’96 - I’m talking about fucking 2013. Remember when Acid Rap, Yeezus, Born Sinner, Watching Movies With The Sound Off, Doris, Long Live A$AP, Wolf, Old, Trap Lord, and let’s just throw in Nothing Was The Same all came out in the same year? Every single one of those albums represented to me at least an attempt at differentiation from the pack, with each album I mentioned (and a whole bunch of others) being pretty unique stylistically and having some sort of unique artistic statement to make. (Note: I don’t mean to imply that I think 2013 or any other year was some perfect year for hip hop, and really didn’t like Eminem, Jay-Z, and Pusha T’s records from that year; I’m simply using it to illustrate a larger point about the rap landscape in 2017 versus just a few short years ago.)

Now, since we’re discussing Aminé’s debut, let’s take a look at debuts of 2013 vs. debut albums in 2017: Chance the Rapper (discounting 10-Day) came out with a breathlessly excited record overstuffed with influences ranging from juke to gospel that was produced almost entirely in house by a team of incredible producers. Earl Sweatshirt, bless his heart, took Odd Future’s adversarial approach a step further with an album that rejected the mainstream at every turn and instead showcased verses from his friends, full of adolescent provocations. Big rap debuts in 2017 have, at least to me, been a lot harder to distinguish from one another, and believe me, I know just how gross and grumpy and uncool that sounds. Whether it’s Lil Yachty stumbling over beats from the big Atlanta names (Metro Boomin, TM88, etc) with a pop exception (Diplo), 21 Savage stumbling over beats from the big Atlanta names with an occasional left-turn (Jake One), or, now, unfortunately, Aminé doing more or less the same (albeit with production assists from admittedly exciting names like Malay and Frank Dukes), I can’t help but feel like these new guys (less notable, but similar cases include Post Malone and the collected works of XXXTentacion; notable exceptions include D.R.A.M., and, by technicality, Brockhampton, who aren’t really rapping about anything new, but are commendably doing everything in house) are painting themselves into a corner by focusing on the meme-iest qualities of their music and not on the ideas or unique approaches that put their peers on the map in the first place.

I don’t want to be unfair to Aminé here. This is a guy who put himself on the map with a pretty strong indie sensibility, impeccable taste, and an ear for catchy hooks (all of which figured big in the success of his breakout single, “Caroline.”) I feel for this guy, and anyone who’s paying attention can tell he’s taking a stab at cementing himself as a serious name in hip hop: he’s doing a newspaper at the release parties in the big cities á la Frank Ocean’s Boys Don’t Cry magazine, and refers to himself as a student of André at least once on Good For You (he wishes.) And, I definitely hear at least an attempt at conveying all of the unique aspects of Aminé’s artistic personality on Good For You. Unfortunately, the indie cred is shot at and missed on the Girlpool featuring “Hero,” which fails for me because, I don’t know, bringing in a feminist folk punk band would feel like a more genuine move if the next song wasn’t a generic exercise in “I can’t trust these hoes” on “Spice Girl,” a song that itself doesn’t feel particularly genuine about its subject in the first place. Frankly, it’s within that dichotomy, of making attempts at crossing over and developing inroads with other audiences versus shamelessly pandering to the /r/hiphopheads crowd, that illustrates exactly what doesn’t work for me about Good For You: Aminé sacrifices so much of the unique, charming personality that made “Caroline” exciting to deliver so much more of the same shit that was getting boring to me last year when everyone was still obsessed with Future and Young Thug (and, as someone who honest to god likes those artists, it doesn’t feel good to say that).

Seriously, I can’t imagine how contrarian this review must come off, especially considered in context with the increasingly entrenched meme status of Aminé, 21, and whoever else I might have shit on in the process of writing this review. But the major label debut’s of 21 Savage and Lil Yachty did not sell well, like at all, and who’s to say how well Good For You will end up doing for Aminé; still, I wish him the fullest financial and artistic success, and I think every successful artist in the financial sinkhole that is the 2017 music industry is a miracle. I just feel like the time has come to question the sustainability of the model: tweet worthy one-liners, Quavo features, and throwaway beats from Metro Boomin seem to be doing less and less in terms of providing new hip-hop artists in 2017 any sort of commercial success or artistic longevity. And as much as I hate to say it, for all of its commendable qualities, Good For You to me is an undeniably homogenous record that loses too much of its personality in the quest to be a hit in the model that Future established after his incredible mixtape run in 2014: heavy on mantra-like hooks, almost monotonously consistent sonically, and almost totally bankrupt of lyrical ideas beyond the bare minimum (to quote Hov, money cash hoes). I just wonder if it ever occurred to Aminé that Caroline blew up precisely because it didn’t sound like anyone else could’ve done it.

What do you guys think of Good For You, and the hip-hop landscape of 2017 on the whole? Does everyone sound the same? Are we settling for less in the name of hyper-modernity? Am I totally full of shit? I wouldn’t be entirely surprised, but, hey, who knows. Are you guys getting more out of this record than I am? I’m looking forward to learning more, but in the mean time, I hope Aminé and anyone else hoping to break out in rap is taking some time to figure out what they can do to set themselves apart from the pack and make a truly unique statement. (unfortunately, NOT VERY GOOD)

Great Songs: STFU, Sundays, HeebieJeebies (feat. Kehlani)



ARCADE FIRE/EVERYTHING NOW



Everything Now, Arcade Fire’s followup to their 2014 album Reflektor, ditches the urgency of that last record, which is a blessing and a curse. I didn’t necessarily want to hear a rehash of the sonics and lyrical concepts of Reflektor, but Everything Now is an admittedly solid addition to the Arcade Fire discography, and it fortuitously corrects the mistake of the last record by being way less overt about attempts to replicate the most anthemic moments of Funeral and The Suburbs. The workaround w/r/t that anthem thing is that Arcade Fire is pretending to be way too mired down in the “everything now” sensory overload concept (like The Suburbs, this album has three title tracks and two “Infinite Content(s),” and the genuinely catchy tracks are very short) to focus on trying to write another “Wake Up.” Of course, like most other Arcade Fire albums, Everything Now is really about paying lip service to the concept (over and over again), more invoking the idea than ever engaging with it, and then letting the listener fill in the blanks. Sometimes, it works: two-part centerpiece “Infinite Content” is awesome (the second one might be my favorite Arcade Fire song in years), and lines evoking “clouds of Ambien” on “Put Your Money On Me” are almost affecting enough to distract from how cheesy that song is. But the things that didn’t work on Reflektor (attempts at dancehall, Win Butler trying to sound cool) don’t really work here either - “Chemistry” and “Peter Pan” are really just outright clunkers, is basically what I’m saying. I admire Everything Now for its commitment to songcraft over being pointlessly anthemic, and for honing in on what worked on Reflektor - but like U2, or any other “big statement” rock band, Arcade Fire pretty frequently leaves me wondering how necessary they really are in the broader musical landscape. (MEH/GOOD)

Great Tracks: Infinite Content, Infinite_Content, Good God Damn

AVEY TARE/EUCALYPTUS



After two or three albums worth of hyperactive insanity with Animal Collective and another with a one-off joke band (Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks,) it’s a pleasant surprise to get an Avey Tare album as clear-headed, serene, and classically psychedelic as Eucalyptus. Gone are the overstuffed arrangements, awkwardly fast tempos, and sonic mush that polluted albums like Centipede Hz and Painting With; on Eucalyptus, the pace stays breezy, the instrumentation stays simple (acoustic guitars, occasional hand drumming, and a wealth of psychedelic sound effects shattering across the mix,) and the songs themselves are presented relatively unadorned and free from unnecessary added fat. Furthermore, Tare’s strength for heartrending melodies is here in full force, providing tracks like opener “Season High” and album centerpiece “In Pieces” with a lot of emotional heft - I don’t think that I’ve been this charmed by an Animal Collective record on the strength of its melodies alone since, shit, Feels? Since this is an Avey Tare record we’re talking about, there are some pitfalls to be expected that, unfortunately, Eucalyptus does fall into: extremely esoteric lyrics, strange mixing decisions, and highly unorthodox song structures are all over this record. Animal Collective fans are used to/love that anyways, though. (GOOD)

Great Songs: Season High, In Pieces, When You Left Me

JAPANESE BREAKFAST/SOFT SOUNDS FROM ANOTHER PLANET



Another month in 2017, another mind-blowingly good release from a breakout female-fronted indie act - let’s hope that trend keeps up! This might speak to my ignorance of Japanese Breakfast, but I went into Soft Sounds expecting a pretty standard, low key indie release; what I got was an incredibly bold, ambitious album containing shades of shoegaze, ambient, ‘60s style chamber pop, and even a straight up disco song. Did I mention it’s also kind of a concept album? Japanese Breakfast bandleader Michelle Zauner effortlessly strings together song after classic sounding song, jumping from genre to genre with ease and consistently impressing with the strength of her lyrics and songwriting: “Diving Woman” doubles as a driving post-punk epic and a solid mission-statement opener, “Road Head” is a sleek, sexy vocal showcase for Zauner’s incredible range, and “Machinist” is that disco moment I mentioned, complete with a spoken-word intro and copious amounts of autotune (trust me it works); I could keep going, but those are literally the first three songs on the album in sequence, and I could speak that highly of almost every other track. The album does have its issues, however minor: while I love the melodies behind Zauner’s vocals, her singing hasn’t impressed me too too much, and her delivery on some of the more intense tracks is a little breathless; and, while the ambient interludes are nice, I don’t know how much I’m personally into the decision to end the album with one. Still, do yourself a favor and throw this whole album into your summer playlist. Support intersectionality, support women in music, and, most importantly, support GOOD music - Japanese Breakfast is all of those things, and especially that last thing. (GREAT)

Great Songs: Road Head, Soft Sounds From Another Planet, ‘Till Death

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