October/November 2014 Track Round Up

Try as you may to hold on to every new recording that surfaces on the world wide web, some stuff is going to slip through the cracks! This Thanksgiving break, don't get caught with your pants down when your friend asks you what you've been listening to lately. Refer to this handy list of stand-outs from the past two months, pick one at random, and tell your friend to stop putting you on the spot like that!


Azealia Banks: "Idle Delilah"- Three years of delay. Mixed outside production. Sixteen songs amounting to a consecutive hour of fast paced dance and hip hop. Any one of these things could have been the major pitfall that derailed Azealia Banks' long awaited proper debut, Broke with Expensive Taste. They are the kind of problems that sink many a career, but Banks is an exception to the rule. Her sheer refusal to fade away is what gives her a leg up over the other budding stars lost in label limbo. Some songs work better than others, but the ones that leave a mark do so because Banks places herself front and center. "Idle Delilah," with its pots and pans production, allows Banks to toy with elegant rhyme schemes, the same kind that made her smash hit, "212," truly breathtaking. A few tracks will fall by the wayside, but all in all, Azealia Banks has finally delivered a substantial collection of songs to her fans, and the majority of these songs are winners.

Beyoncé: "Ring Off"- Sound the Beyoncé alarm! To commemorate eleven or so months since she nearly crashed the iTunes servers, Queen B broke us off a couple bites of the Beyoncé deluxe edition. "7/11" is plenty fun, and is almost certainly the pregame that leads to the sloppy hook-up that is "Drunk In Love." The sunnier of the two, "Ring Off," an ode to mama, juxtaposes bright, twinkling keys with the pressure of being trapped in a loveless relationship. It is just another entry in Beyoncé's marriage saga, as she determines whether the ring is a liberating or suffocating force (her and Frodo would have A LOT to talk about). If the rumors hold true that another surprise release is on the horizon, "Ring Off" is a good indicator that Mrs. Carter still has a lot left in the tank.

Father John Misty: "Bored in the USA"- Father John Misty might come off as one of the more smug, arrogant SOBs in all of indie rock, but dear Lord, who knew the man could write a power ballad? His bitterness finally catches up to him on "Bored in the USA," a song that's as deeply moving as it is tragically funny. "Save me, White Jesus!" he pleads, paying no mind to the Christ like beard on his face. His complaints about the declining quality of American society are met with a laugh track, and his melodramatic cries for accomplishing something great are backed by a complete twenty piece orchestra. As the ex-drummer of Fleet Foxes, Josh Tillman knows a thing or two about being "a functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond [him]." Now, as Father John Misty, the spotlight is on him, and he's going to soak up as much of it as possible.

Flying Lotus: "Medication Meditation (feat. Krayzie Bone)"- Fresh off his most powerful, neatly choreographed album to date, Flying Lotus pulls out yet another gem from his seemingly endless recording sessions. This prized piece of psychedelic hip hop recruits Bone Thugz N' Harmony's very own Krayzie Bone for some lyrical sorcery. As a musical curator for the newly expanded soundtrack of the videogame Grand Theft Auto V, Flylo is using the platform to introduce his followers to the artists that inspired him and the ones that have taken after his own unique brand of jazz infused beat music. Ultimately, its his own enchanted, homemade mixture of haunted beats and cunning rappers that trumps the other sixteen fictional, in-game radio stations. Don't touch that dial when FlyLo FM is on.

Ghostface Killah: "Love Don't Live Here No More"- As the most active lord of the Wu, Ghost continues to show us that age is not a reason to get complacent. His storytelling abilities look mighty healthy on "Love Don't Live Here No More," the first single from one of his many upcoming projects, 36 Seasons. While Starks has promoted 36 Seasons as a concept album centered around a gangster vigilante, you wouldn't know it from the soulful accompaniment on this track. It reveals a much welcomed soft side to the MC, who walks us through the feeling of deflation that comes with being replaced by another man. As one of his more personal tracks since Fishscale's "Back Like That," it makes for a nice pairing with the carnal verses he has unveiled from his other soon to be released pet project, the much anticipated collaborative effort with BADBADNOTGOOD.

Panda Bear: "Mr. Noah"- If you're in the small camp of people who are unwilling to put a piece of themself into their music in order to get something out of it, then Panda Bear may not be for you. To be frank, the first minute of "Mr. Noah" is tough to endure (that is, unless, you are in the even smaller camp of people who enjoys loud buzzing and the sound of dogs whimpering). But see it through, and you'll witness one of the most mesmerizing transformations of the year take place. With a warbling, grumbling mesh of guitars and synthesizers, Noah Lennox, Animal Collective's most inventive member, creates a sensation of vertigo, running up and down tonal scales with reckless abandon. And yet, when you scratch through all of this sonic mastery, "Mr. Noah" is a song about never writing off the underdog, a reminder that talent reveals itself at different points for different people. Beyond all that whimpering is a beautiful voice, waiting to be unleashed.

Pusha T: "Lunch Money"- Backed by one of the most strangely brilliant Kanye West beats of the past few years, "Lunch Money" is coke rap from the world of the Jetsons. As chaotic as this slurpy, slippery beat may get, King Push never gets distracted, holding his competitors upside down and claiming any loose change that falls out of their pockets. The intensity only ramps up as the song progresses, as the G.O.O.D Music golden child gloats about pricy mink coats and diamond-encrusted watches. "This is crime by design. If the crown ain't mine, tell me who am I behind?" When backed with these Yeezus-esque soundscapes, absolutely no one.

SZA: "Sobriety"- After her underwhelming major label debut, Z, TDE's lone female signee bounces back in a big way with "Sobriety." Whereas Z contained 40 minutes of her trying to stay afloat in a sea of washed out effects, SZA takes hold of the mic and never lets go throughout the course of "Sobriety." Smooth bass provided by Thundercat underscores a tale that starts off abstruse ("Until two aliens came and chopped our heads off with samurai swords/ 'At least we died together.' That's what I thought."), but ends up in an all too real space ("I still ain't got no whip, I still ain't got no friends/ At least I got my family. Bullshit. My daddy still can't stand me"). Most importantly, SZA flaunts the vocal abilities that brought her initial recognition, proving that she can and will do much more than sing hooks for her TDE affiliates.

"Content Nausea" Review

There is mounting confusion surrounding the band behind the album Content Nausea. No, there are no lingering questions concerning their fate, and certainly none concerning their ability. At the end of the day, the question that is bugging everyone is plain and simple: What is their fucking name? We cannot overlook, as so many will, that two of Parquet Courts' last four records (all released in an impressive two year span) have fallen under the alias Parkay Quarts. What, if anything, separates a Parquet Courts album from a Parkay Quarts album? Is this mere tomfoolery cooked up by a band of Brooklyn punks, or do names still carry weight?

From a personnel stance, Parkay Quarts is a project orchestrated by singer/guitarists Andrew Savage and Austin Brown, substituting Parquet Courts' bassist Sean Yeaton and drummer Max Savage for various outside musicians. Their first Parkay Quarts experiment, Tally Up All the Things That You Broke, which included the uncharacteristically clanky, dance-y "He's Seeing Paths," was much more willing to depart from the indie garage rock template that Parquet Courts normally operates within. While Tally presented itself more as a bonus EP in between Courts albums, Content Nausea's thematic consistency and tendency to move into uncharted territory make it a fully fleshed out project that deserves to be discussed with the band's best work. 

A strong current of paranoia and self-doubt runs through nearly every song on Content Nausea. Savage and Brown take turns mutedly reciting chants of "fear's taking over" and "everyday it starts: anxiety." Twitching and moaning guitar makes this neurosis tangible, a technique that is best displayed on "The Map," a piece that lyrically unfolds much like a short story. It follows a young man who asks his shrink to pinpoint the source of his issues, and is given a physical map of all of his suffering in return. It almost sounds like a long lost outtake from The Velvet Underground's White Light/White Heat (minus all that bodily mutilation). The various interludes that are interspersed throughout ("Urban Ease," "Kevlar Walls," "No Concept") reek of uncertainty and industrial decay. While existential anguish in the big city is not necessarily a new topic in Savage and Brown's music, some of these songs take worries that they would usually shrug off in a Parquet Courts song to an unavoidable, downright apocalyptic level. 

But Content Nausea is not all doom and gloom. Courts/Quarts' ace in the hole has always been their mastery of controlling pace, and whenever the listener looks for a shot of energy, this album delivers. "Pretty Machines," with its brash horns, might be their most fun song to date, while the completely unexpected cover of "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'" is a risk that was well-worth taking. "Uncast Shadow of a Southern Myth," a song far grander in scope than any of the eleven before it, is a meandering death march through the history of the American South, all told from the perspective of a man defending his home with a gun in hand. The song is a giant powder keg, and when the fire finally reaches the end of the fuse, the resulting blast is all-consuming anger unfettered by any of the cool guy dronings of a "Stoned and Starving" or an "Instant Disassembly." If the past two years have been any indication, Parquet Courts will return soon, adding another bunch of speedy jams to their repertoire. In the meantime, Parkay Quarts continue to widen their fanbase and show just how expansive their skillset is. No matter what they call themselves, their future is looking bright.

"RTJ2" Review

Among the many "Bonus$ Packages" one can buy when preordering RTJ2, the sequel to last year's Run The Jewels, is the "Meow The Jewels Package," which promises that for $40,000, Run The Jewels will remix their latest album with nothing but cat noises as production. Sure enough, their internet following has come out to support the idea, and has successfully crowdsourced what was once nothing more than a joke. And yes, El-P is living up to his promise, and has already begun recruiting the choicest felines for the project. The very concept of Run The Jewels is a bonus. A supergroup combining El-P and Killer Mike does not need to exist. Both of their albums have been released as free downloads. In a sense, you are playing with house money when you listen to a Run The Jewels record, so why not give it a spin? Although it is easy to imagine that a sense of urgency would be absent on music released for free, RTJ2 is every bit as frantic as its predecessor, a collage of haymakers, explosions, unchecked testosterone, and unmatched wit. The pact these two have made to each other that Killer Mike addressed on "Banana Clipper" ("Producer made me a beat, said it's the beat of the year, I said, 'El-P didn't do it, so get the fuck outta here!'") has only fortified their bond and sharpened their focus. After spending another year savoring their roles as raunchy sages of rap, Run The Jewels have only gotten better with time.

At the very onset of RTJ2, Killer Mike roars, "I'm finna bang this bitch the fuck out!" True to his word, RTJ2 operates at record setting pace. The words "cool" and "out" do not seem to be in Jaimie and Mike's vocabulary for this go around, which is made clear enough from Rage Against The Machine's Zach De La Rocha on "Close Your Eyes (And Count To Fuck)." "Run them Jewels fast, fuck the slow-mo," yells De La Rocha on the hook, as we find El-P making impassioned court room speeches and Mike gunning for sheriffs. It is these larger than life moments that make listening to this independent release a true Blockbuster Night. That track, which starts with a pulsing house beat, along with the mercilessly speedy "Oh My Darling Don't Cry" and "All Due Respect," feels like it has enough energy to rip a hole in the space-time continuum. But is it variety you want? Variety you shall receive! The woozy "All My Life" and anthemic "Lie, Cheat, Steal" are spiritual successors to the last album's more deliberate "Sea Legs" and "DDFH (Do Dope, Fuck Hope)," if not better versions altogether. On "Love Again," their ode to sexual perversity, Killer Mike and El-P's graphic exploits can only be topped by Gangsta Boo, who gloriously interrupts the boys' club with her own vulgar demands. "Crown" is a pep talk,  a call to reignite the fighting spirit in the downtrodden. While most will be drawn to Killer Mike knocking people out and El-P tea-bagging a piranha tank, Run The Jewels is, at its heart, composed of two multifaceted artists who are able to seamlessly blend politics, existential crisis, and general awesomeness into a hardy gumbo of no-prisoners style hip-hop.

RTJ2's closer, "Angel Duster," might as well serve as the mission statement for the dynamic duo. "A little smoke for the gone boys, a little nod to the spirits/ We still here, running 'round screaming, they're still here pointing and laughing." It is an indicator that no matter how ridiculously over the top Run The Jewels may be, they still have no intention of slowing down any time soon. In a way, they are the superheroes of the rap industry, the group that everyone deserves, but no one needs. Until they are called to rise again. Yes, normally I would not reference The Dark Knight in a review. But this is Run The Jewels we're talking about. They require comparisons as big as the ones that they draw to themselves. They deserve a hero's send-off for another Job Well Done. "A little toast to the no ones, with a nod to the masters/ To the ones with riches, from the ones who the rags fit." Run The Jewels is here to stay. Run The Jewels is here for the people.

"Sea When Absent" Review

Nearly all truly exceptional music that I hear, whether it be live or recorded, brings on a certain awe inspiring after-effect that can only be described through physical phenomena. As my ears ring from a deathly sudden silence, an unshakeable smirk takes shape, my eyes fixated on whatever may happen to be in front of me at that moment. In this state of ecstasy, I can feel new neural pathways form, goosebumps rise up an down my arms, and the weight of the world diminish. Any of my friends who have accompanied me to concerts can verify that I do, in fact, experience exactly what I am describing right now. I tend to dedicate a few minutes, as we file out of the venue, to repeating the mantras "whaaaaaaaat?" or "that was nuts" over and over again, unable to fully comprehend everything that has just transpired. The best music can never be summarized, debriefed, or dissected immediately after listening. The best music always leaves you speechless.

There is no appropriate place to stop A Sunny Day In Glasgow's newest release, Sea When Absent. Find a comfy couch or a hammock, because bringing yourself to stop this trip once it begins would require superhuman self-control. Finding a break in the action may be nearly impossible, but luckily you'll never catch yourself searching for one. Smatterings of synth-pop and waves of new psychedelia (the best since Tame Imapala's 2012 masterpiece, Lonerism) will wash over you from beginning to end. In a world that has slowly and sneakily become overridden by fluttery dream pop bands that prefer to operate in the ether, A Sunny Day In Glasgow chooses to fire off a canon right by your ear drums. From the very first thrilling second of "Bye Bye, Big Ocean (The End)," ASDIG pull you in with no intention of letting go. In short, it's one hell of a thrill ride.

This is also a headphones album. I repeat, shouting into my megaphone of music snobbery: "THIS IS A HEADPHONES ALBUM." Sea When Absent is pain-stakingly arranged, and the more of it you are able to hear, the more of it you will enjoy. Jeff Zeigler, who was also co-producer of Lost in the Dream by The War On Drugs (this year's other enchanting indie offering from Philadelphia), mixes this record to perfection, as rotating vocals ("Crushin'") and honey sweet guitar licks ("The Things They Do To Me") collide and bounce off of each other into a million separate directions. Detractors will say this album is too easy, for it supplies catchy hook after catchy hook. What naysayers will forget to mention is that each individual song on Sea When Absent contributes not one, but a full cache of pleasing melodies. For instance, "The Body, It Bends" naturally switches from a triumphant horn line to a sweeping guitar solo without a moment's notice. Every song on this album morphs and evolves naturally, as satisfying hooks beget more satisfying hooks. And even if ASDIG are a bit of a high-flying bunch, they never drift off course, for everything is anchored in a powerful rhythm section. Besides simply playing their parts well, Ryan Newmyer (bass) and Adam Herndon (drums) also provide their own fireworks (see the slippery bass line on "MTLOV (Minor Keys)," the percussion sampler that is "In Love With Useless").

With the entire band scattered all over the globe, it is amazing that ASDIG have accomplished anything at all here. The six members of the current lineup (songwriter/guitarist Ben Daniels, vocalist Jen Goma, and multi-insturmentalists Josh Meakim and Annie Fredrickson round out the bunch) never came together as a complete whole at any point throughout the recording process, with at least one person being absent at any given session. Even that knowledge seems to reinforce the beauty of Sea When Absent, as if its some sort of grand experiment, a group of artists attempting to create something together despite being thousands of miles apart. At this point, I have to admit that while I try to thoroughly research every group or musician I review, my knowledge of A Sunny Day In Glasgow is fairly limited. I saw this album streaming for free (via Pitchfork Advance), went for it, and am so glad I did. While I cannot wait to delve into the rest of their material and see what they will do next, none of that matters right now. Right now, all I want to do is lay back and have my mind blown again.

"Lazaretto" Review

Jack White isn't a kid anymore. No, he's not ancient, but he's no spring chicken. As one half of the White Stripes, White was responsible for several iconic anthems regarding youth rebellion ("Seven Nation Army," "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground") and young love ("Fell in Love with a Girl," "You Don't Know What Love Is"). Since then, he has struggled through two divorces, had two kids, championed his own record label, and become the poster boy for vinyl collectors everywhere. At 38, the garage rock revivalist can occasionally come off as bitter in interviews, like when he recently lashed out at the Black Keys for rehashing his sound and criticized ex-wife and bandmate Meg White for being distant following the dissolution of the White Stripes and their marriage. Opting to spend more time with industry titans like Jimmy Page and Neil Young than with budding, developing musicians, White now has a hand in controlling the very machine that he spent much of his early career defying. While not all of this is explicitly addressed on Lazaretto, his second solo album, White makes it clear that feeling misunderstood does not magically fizzle out with age, and isolation can come from unexpected places. Lazaretto is significantly more grown up than any of White's past work, and that includes 2012's Blunderbuss. He spares us a futile attempt at reigniting some spark from his past, a crime that far too many aging rockers have committed. Instead, we get to look on as White explores the dark corners of adulthood. 

So how does this affect White's approach? Well, when the old man troubles do rear their ugly head, they are celebrated, rather than concealed or disregarded. On "Three Women," he has a grotesque amount of fun, shouting "Lordy Lord!" while satirizing the classic "I've got women all over the world" trope. It's the kind of slightly raunchy stuff you'd hear your grandpa say while you're trying to finish your mashed potatoes. On "Just One Drink," he's clearly had one too many, as the initially playful question, "I love you, but honey why don't you love me?" quickly evolves into a frustrated cry for help. For the most part, White trades in his trademark high pitch shrieking for a seasoned, gruff moan, but moments like the one at the end of "Just One Drink" pack a necessary punch. 

Lazaretto was constructed over many months of fine tuning and arranging at Jack White's very own Third Man Studios in Nashville, making it the longest recording process that he has been apart of thus far. Foregoing the blitzkrieg paced recording style of his past works (White Blood Cells was recorded in less than four days), the eleven songs here are layered, carefully crafted, and as varied as we've seen from White. The title track, which is part spastic guitar freakout and part funkalicious, is directly followed by "Temporary Ground," where he fully indulges in the Tennessee country spirit, fiddle and all. "Lazaretto" is full of chest pounding braggadocio, but "Temporary Ground" is forlorn, almost worrisome about the idea of remaining stagnant and being unable to make new discoveries. There is playful percussion aplenty on the delightfully weird "That Black Bat Licorice." The end of "Would You Fight for My Love" is rock opera in the most literal sense of the term. Rest assured though, Lazaretto never forgets that it is, at its core, still a Jack White record, as his expert guitar play rips and tears track after track apart, providing a clean slate for whatever song lies next. "High Ball Stepper," the album's centerpiece, is four minutes of White letting the beast off of its chain, a truly ferocious instrumental from start to finish.

Yet, as much fun as White has while basking in his newfound crotchetiness, he cannot help but feel like  a buzzkill in his old age. "In a time when everyone feels entitled/ Why can't I feel entitled too?" he wonders on "Entitlement," where he takes some time to open up about feeling uncomfortable taking from the cookie jar. However, he also entertains another viewpoint with "Want and Able," the folksy tale that closes out Lazaretto. "Who is the who telling who what to do?" goes the chorus, with White realizing that as a CEO and a father, maybe he is the one who does the majority of the finger wagging nowadays. Songs like this, in which White challenges himself and addresses the hypocrisy of being a punk who struck it big, place Lazaretto in the better half of his already decorated discography. You'd think someone as accomplished and unpredictably timid as Jack White would have a tough time figuring out what he wants next, but at the end of the album, it isn't an issue at all: "I wanna hold you, and see you, and feel you in my dreams…" Getting there, with all the baggage that comes with being Jack White at 38, however, is another story: "….but that's impossible, something simply will not let me."

"…And Then You Shoot Your Cousin" Review

Even with the broad shoulders of ?uestlove Thompson, shouldering the entirety of a people's musical history must be daunting. Much more than hip-hop and late night's favorite house band, The Roots have morphed into a group of cultural ambassadors, relaying the trials and triumphs of black America to the greater American public one step at a time. Whether it be teaching NYU students about Prince or orchestrating perfect walk-up music for the many guests of the Tonight Show, ?uestlove and The Roots do their homework better than anyone else. The breadth of their research is evident on …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin, which arrives as both carefully crafted and completely unorthodox for a hip-hop record. At a compact 33 minutes, The Roots take a concise and powerful approach on their eleventh studio album, packing it to the brim with intricate compositions, amelodic explorations, and precise references to the past that carry more meaning now than ever. 

While not indicated in the track listing, …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin seems to be divided into suites, with relatively untouched samples from older artists acting as transitions from chapter to chapter. The album starts with "Theme From Middle Of The Night," as the great Nina Simone moans, "Only the lonely love.../ In desperate embrace/ To make your false a true…" This sets up the question at the core of Cousin, which asks if love and caring only exist as meager ways for us to validate each other's existence. "Never," with its vocal distortion and operatic chorus singers, insists that abandonment and growing up poor is the worst fate imaginable. "When The People Cheer," the album's hard-hitting single, suggests that isolation can also be found in the things that we assign too much value to, such as money ("For your entertainment money is the language/ So every time I speak I'm tryna make another payment"), religion ("Everybody acts like God is all that/ But I got the feeling he ain't never coming back"), and sex ("She keeps providing the place for me to be unfaithful at"). The next suite, which opens up with an excerpt from jazz pianist Mary Lou Williams' "The Devil," muddles the line between right and wrong ("Black Rock") and exposes the many contradictions of organized religion ("Understand"). Another shift occurs on "Dies Irae," a musical interlude provided by experimental French composer Michel Chion. This chaotic interlude is a perfect preface for "The Dark," one of their most morbid, sinister songs to date. 

While The Roots make sifting through the past seem like nothing but fun and games on Fallon, …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin reveals that navigating through history can lead to the reemergence of painful memories, and makes us question just how much progress we have actually made. Even darker than Undun, their 2011 street opera told in reverse, Cousin looks backwards for answers, and comes up empty. The struggle and the hurt feel as real on this record as any The Roots have ever created. The final song, "Tomorrow," is the album's only shimmer of hope. Almost tongue-in-cheek with its cheerful whistling, "Tomorrow" contains a simple yet profound message: "Cause everybody needs an angel/ And everybody needs to smile/ And everybody has an angel/ And everybody wants tomorrow right now." It seems The Roots haven't given up on love and understanding after all. In fact, on …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin, they're the only things left that can lift us out of the dark past and help us look towards a better tomorrow.

Stream …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin via Pitchfork Advance.

"Turn Blue" Review

This might already be the title of a children's book, but here it goes anyway: everyone gets to feel sad sometimes. It's easy to watch from a distance and insist on how someone has everything they could ever want. Wealth. Recognition. "What's to complain about? Stop fussing and be happy." It's an all too common conundrum that succesful artists have to face. How do you stay hungry? Dan Aurebach and Patrick Carney, the 21st century's most beloved blues brothers, seem to think they've found an answer through psychedelic experimentation, or at least so they have publicized for Turn Blue, the Black Keys' eighth studio album. Unfortunately, it's going to take a little more than some ambient noise and fuzzed out guitars to patch up some of the holes that are starting to form in the Black Keys' formula. That, what I have just mentioned, appears to be the biggest flaw of all: the blistering passion and supercharged soul of the Black Keys is turning into something stale and formulaic. Additionally, the genuine heartbreak found in their earlier work is starting to be replaced by something less sincere.

Penned by many as "trippy" and "a turning point" in anticipation of its release, Turn Blue really only seems experimental in comparison to its commercially minded predecessor, El Camino. Previous records, like 2008's Attack and Release, and even their 2010 smash hit, Brothers, feel much more liberated and playful than Turn Blue. The duo only step out of their comfort zone at brief, disconnected moments on this album, never amounting to anything greater than a suggestion of something that never arrives. At the 6:20 mark, a hypnotic sounding xylophone and bass combo takes over, mirroring the kind of "far out" imagery that is present on the cover art. It's ominous, and perhaps maybe even indicative of something that can explain their bizarre, quirky promo trailer. Alas, nothing comes of it. Exciting, yet underdeveloped moments like this are scattered throughout Turn Blue. "Year In Review" starts and ends with interesting, sonar-like pitches, but the meat of the song consists of Aurebach eking out lines about a love that wasn't meant to be while accompanied by a chorus of oo-ing and oh-ing soul singers. Tactics like these feel routine at this point, as past hits like "Lonely Boy" and "Gold on The Ceiling" took a nearly identical approach. The variety in lyrical content is scarce, as some of their typical blues tropes ("I'm aching," "heart's rearranged") are starting to get old. The grit and sweat found in standards like "I Got Mine" and "10 AM Automatic" have been replaced by washed out, aimless screaming ("Bullet In The Brain") and a passive attitude ("Gotta Get Away"). Songs like the funky change of pace, "10 Lovers," try to shake things up, but it only ends up adding to the inconsistency. Sadly, while there are some noticeably problematic trends in Turn Blue, there is no underlying theme that connects any of the positive aspects of this record.

And now, being the fan that I am, here come the apologies. Railing against the Black Keys is not something that gives me enjoyment. This album does not take away from the greatness of their previous offerings, their exceptional chops as blues rockers, or their welcome sense of humor (their music videos are ridiculous and awesome). In fact, Turn Blue has several terrific moments. The opening track, "Weight of Love," contains a healthy barrage of mind melting guitar solos. "Fever" is the reliable, up-tempo single that every Black Keys album needs in order to stay grounded. The jungle rhythm vibe on "It's Up To You Now" sounds like a modern take on Led Zeppelin's "Four Sticks." From the lonely piano at the opening to the meandering guitar at the end, "In Our Prime" is gorgeous in its desolation. However, these moments lack unity, as Turn Blue ultimately pans out as a batch of songs that are either hit or miss.

One of the best songs the Black Keys have ever put to wax is the brief, often overlooked "Grown So Ugly," a gem from their tremendous third album, Rubber Factory. Aurebach kicks it off by growling, "I got up this morning/ Put on my shoes/ Tied my shoes/ Went to the mirror/ To comb my hair/ I made a move." Not a whole lot is said here, but the outrage that Aurebach uses to deliver these simple phrases speaks volumes. While it's certainly better than no new Black Keys album at all, Turn Blue possesses neither the heart nor the sonic unity that can be heard throughout most of their discography. Ironically enough, "Grown So Ugly" is a song about identity crises. On Turn Blue, there is no song like this to be found. You can't start fixing the problem until you recognize it.

Mac Demarco Makes It Look Effortless with "Salad Days"

What is it about Mac Demarco that makes him seem more like a cartoon character than an actual person? Is it that gap between his two front teeth, the one that makes him look like indie rock's version of Danny Brown, or perhaps even Mad Magazine's Alfred E. Neuman? Or could it be those bizarre music videos, like the one where he gets Nickelodeon-looking slime poured on him while wearing a powdered wig? Yes, Demarco has been widely publicized as a lovable goon, but nowadays many artists that are even more widely embraced than Demarco have their share of wacko tendencies too. What separates Mac Demarco from the rest of the bunch is his ability to carry over this whimsical aura into the music itself. With Salad Days, we get another delightfully wobbly trip into Demarco-ville, and additionally, these breezy tunes seem to carry an added level of importance to him. He accomplishes this while still maintaining the soothing, seemingly unrehearsed sound that his fans have come to expect. This comes across on tracks like "Blue Boy," where he sings, "Blue boy, older than the world knows/ Honey, that's the way that life goes/ No use acting so tough/ Come down, sweetheart, grow up." The same carefree attitude as always, but with a compelling argument to go along with it.

Although this album was most definitely a product of much hard-work and practice, the confidence that exudes from Mac Demarco makes it feel as though all of these songs were nailed in one sitting. He takes many risks on Salad Days, but they always feel organic. The warped guitars on "Goodbye Weekend" and "Treat Her Better" are like muscle relaxants. The thumping bass line and swirling organ on the jam session "Jonny's Odyssey" make for a fun, lighthearted cap to the album. However, not all of Salad Days is a lazy trip down the river. "And where would I be, feeling lonely/ Separated from my one and only/ And what's there left to say/ Far as I can tell that day could be on its way," he softly sings on "Let My Baby Stay," the ode to his foreign born girlfriend, whom Demarco desperately wants to remain living with in the United States. "Passing Out Pieces" deals with the star's loss of identity as his fame grows, and is accompanied by a brass arrangement that counterbalances his psychedelic musings (almost like "A Day in the Life" taken down a few notches). "Chamber of Reflection," which may be his most compelling song to date, combines a striking synth line with introspective lyricism. Demarco makes sensational songwriting and composition look effortless on Salad Days. At under 35 minutes, the tour through Demarco-ville is rather short, but luckily it's one that gets better with each trip. If this is simply not enough to satisfy your dream pop fix, Demarco takes the last six seconds of the album to leave us with this reassuring message: "Hi guys, this is Mac. Thank you for joining me. See you again soon, buh-bye." Can't wait.

"Piñata" Review

Look at the image above. Through a chain-link fence we see Freddie Gibbs, smoking a joint by himself on a playground. Unbeknownst to him, matching his slightly zipped open Adidas tracksuit and his ever-visible Rolex, he is encompassed by a zebra print pattern that could easily pass as a section of a Rorschach inkblot. Unmoved, Gibbs sits and observes, despite the radiance that surrounds him. This is the backdrop for Piñata, a meeting between two representatives of independent hip-hop that generally stay on opposite sides of the aisle. A street king with zero interest in gimmicks, Gibbs finds himself rapping exclusively over production by Madlib, the dastardly, devilishly clever beat maker responsible for the now ten year old classic Madvillainy. Unlike Madvillainy, however, Madlib is not creating music for an absurdist, dazed, free flowing lyricist like MF Doom this time around. Throughout Piñata, Madlib is faced with the task of simultaneously matching Gibbs' hungry attitude and also pushing him to crack open his bullet proof shell. It's a balancing act for sure, but Madlib walks the line with brilliance and grace, helping one of rap's greatest lone gunmen reach new, astonishing heights.

Bobbing and weaving through onslaught after onslaught of chimes, synths, and strings, Gibbs takes a strong stance on a different set of issues with each song. Gibbs is a man of principle. Whether he's slandering major rap labels ("Phonies ain't gon' throw me in this Minstrel show") or reciting his lunch order ("Six wings, mild sauce, with all the fries you can give me"), the man's mind is made up. Yet, while ultimately unwavering on most matters, there are some evident shreds of remorse from this man who has gone all in on the gangster lifestyle. Consider "High," one of the more lighthearted moments you'll find on Piñata. Most of the song centers on the luxuries that come with selling drugs, but early on Gibbs admits, "Never finished college like my brother or my sister/ I was in the crib lying on a kush cloud/ Getting zoned out, eyes red/ Mommy and my daddy said my mind dead." On "Thuggin," he cannot deny that refusing to sign a contract comes with its share of setbacks ("Critically acclaimed, but that shit don't mean a thang/ When you rockin mics and still in microwaves cooking 'caine"). These regrets culminate in "Broken," where after reflecting on his grandmother's disapproval and the tension he created with his cop father, he comes clean, confessing, "And honestly I know I'm out here fucking up/ Seven grams of rock I stuff 'em in my nuts/ And seven bucks an hour wasn't good enough/ Cause seven days a week I'm living in a rush." It's big that Gibbs owns up to his mistakes on Piñata, but it's even more crucial that he never seems to abandon his identity or his moral code in doing so.

Interspersed through Gibbs' musings on thug life, Madlib orchestrates a great amount of seamless transitions that link the 17 tracks of Piñata together. These breaks include spacey instrumental interludes, soul samples, bits from Blaxploitation style movies, and recordings of Gibbs screwing around in the studio (one in particular, at the end of "Robes," catches him singing an hysterical rendition of TLC's "Waterfalls"). Guest verses are placed tactically, as Danny Brown ("High"), Odd Future members Earl Sweatshirt and Domo Genesis  ("Robes"), and a cavalcade of other independent up-and-commers ("Piñata") bust out their premium material in hopes of keeping up with Gibbs. Paying respect to legends that have come before him, Gibbs also relinquishes the booth to Raekwon ("Bomb") and Scarface ("Broken"), and neither disappoint. Clocking in at an hour long, the album never loses steam, as both artists allot each other time to work their magic, but never enough to let the other go overboard. I can't say that everyone will flock to this album. Unfortunately, there will probably never be lines out the door to buy an independently made rap album. What I can promise is that true hip-hop heads will have an ear to ear smile on their face after listening through Piñata. And if that small group can do as Gibbs asks and "get on iTunes and buy this shit," he might just live to fight another day.

With "Atlas," Real Estate Soundtrack Your Summer, Again

There is a moment in Real Estate's live performance (streaming for free on NPR) of their new album, Atlas, where some dude yells out, "You guys are awesome!" This wouldn't mean much to your typical indie rock band. Many a musician would ignore the outburst, trying to maintain a certain image. But just like the man who shouted, Real Estate are just a bunch of regular dudes too. They have no image! They don't even do the bare minimum and agree on a unified style of suburban-casual clothing to wear! "Let the camera show that that guy just said we were awesome!" says Alex Bleeker, the group's bassist, who seems quite pleased with himself. Hailing from suburban New Jersey, Real Estate feels like one of the only great acts left that isn't trying to make a statement, that doesn't have that larger than life magnetism that draws you to watch regardless of whether you like the music or not. There is no secret allure here, and if their set is shitty, there's really no reason to stick around. Nothing urgent is forcing you to listen to Real Estate. You can bail at anytime. They aren't going to launch into political protest or throw bags of cocaine into the audience once you walk away. Therefore, they should be proud (and relieved) knowing that they have managed to cook up yet another batch of marvelous songs. How can you leave when the guitar sounds as sweet as it does on "April's Song"?  Real Estate is what the best high school band from your graduating class would have sounded like if they didn't do so many drugs and actually practiced every day. It's like they corralled all of your musically inclined friends' best songs and perfected them in a studio with the proper professional gear and an outstanding ear for detail.

In comparison to their past two albums, any dedicated Real Estate fan will notice a few significant changes in the tone of the songwriting. The group is not as caught up in the nostalgia of beach blankets and bonfires anymore. The lyrical content is a little more mature this time around, as songs like "Had To Hear" and "Crime" are more direct and to the point than anything they have ever written. While there is some great discussion to be had once you put this band under the analytical microscope, the most exciting prospect of a new Real Estate album is that you can add ten more songs to your summer playlist immediately after purchase. If Atlas makes you think a little while you relax, all the better, but more importantly, these ordinary guys have once again won the distinct honor of soundtracking your summer. Good for them. Better for you.

"Oxymoron" Review

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

De La Soul Spreads the Love on Valentine's Day by Setting ALL Their Music Free

With an unprecedented act of generosity that makes Radiohead's infamous "pay what you can" plan look criminal by comparison, De La Soul, one of the greatest, most influential hip-hop groups of all time, are making their entire discography free to anyone with access to the internet. The offer is available for the next 24 hours. Simply visit their website, check the different boxes that correspond to the different albums you want (you might as well just click them all), and give them your first name and email address. That's it, no bullshit. Don't believe me? I got mine already, and I got it ALL (I even re-downloaded some of it that I already have for better sound quality, cause WHY NOT).

Today marks the 25th anniversary of their debut, 3 Feet High and Rising, famous for being the first true concept album in rap history, and for simply being an utterly incredible listen. Note that the email above also mentions their plans to release a new album in the near future entitled, You're Welcome. Fitting title. Thank you, De La Soul. Listen to "Eye Know," arguably the greatest love song in hip-hop history, below.

Isaiah Rashad's Cilvia Demo Plants Seeds for TDE World Domination

     

With what might one day be referred to as his own personal Section.80 (get used to the Kendrick Lamar comparisons, buddy), Isaiah Rashad has released Cilvia Demo, a collection of songs that displays the wide range this young lyricist has to offer. Hailing from Tennessee, the addition of Rashad to the Top Dawg Entertainment team is a clear attempt to develop talent outside of the label's four original Los Angeles rappers (Lamar, Schoolboy Q, Jay Rock, Ab-Soul). However, this is no mere marketing ploy. Cilvia Demo, while lacking a consistent style or message, is the closest we have to a fully realized Isaiah Rashad project, and at the very least shows us TDE has made a fantastic investment by signing this introspective country boy.

Cilvia's sound is a world away from something like good kid, mA.A.d city, light years from Hollywood and Dr. Dre studio sessions. As the old cliché goes, "You can take the boy out of Chattanooga, but you can't take Chattanooga out of the boy." This is homegrown, organic hip-hop with a twist. The dirty South seen through a kaleidoscope. Songs like "Brad Jordan" are clear, committed tributes to old school rappers like Scarface, but others like "Webbie Flow (U Know)" and "West Savannah" have more experimental production that wanders into dream pop.  Much of Cilvia is spent in a haze, delivered from a boy who spent one too many days "hotboxin' the sauna." A sense of disconnect and skepticism permeates throughout most of the fourteen tracks, especially on "Tranquility"  and "Modest." A complicated relationship with his father is evident, but much of the rest of Rashad's personal life remains mysterious, with more to be unveiled with future releases.  But where are the catchy hooks, you might ask? You'll be chanting right along with Rashad on "R.I.P. Kevin Miller" and "Shot You Down," or your money back guaranteed. With Cilvia Demo, Isaiah Rashad will not bring the music universe to a grinding halt like some of his mentors have already done, but it does stand out as an exciting glimpse into the future of the expanding rap empire that is TDE.

Loose Track Round-Up

No, the first month and a half of the calendar year usually does not contain much new, jaw-dropping music for one to sink their teeth into. We are still a long way from the giant chart-toppers that will neatly coincide with summer, and even farther away from fall, where brooding artists stamp their souls onto wax. But rest assured, something is always brewing in the wide world of music! Here is a list of the choicest bits and pieces from the past month:

Cam'ron & A-Trak: "Humphrey"- Cam'ron yelling, "A-Trak, let's take 'em to church!" is one of those phrases you need to rewind in order for you to truly trust your ears. Good thing that this song is endlessly playable, as the Dipset rapper finds unlikely producers in A-Trak, founder of Fool's Gold records (signees include Danny Brown, Kid Cudi, and Run The Jewels), and Party Supplies. While many a lyricist would probably sprinkle fairy dust on a squeaky sample like this, Cam'ron shines like he did in his prime (see "Hey Ma"). He even drops a Street Fighter reference! It's official: "Cam got the shit to pop."

Speedy Ortiz: "American Horror"- Speedy Ortiz might just be the best act to come out of Massachusetts in years (remember JoJo? Anyone?). They follow up their angst ridden debut, Major Arcana, with the four song EP Real Hair, an awesome bonus if the first ten weren't enough to keep you satisfied. "American Horror" lights the fuse, an anthem about being "strap-down crazy."

Major Lazer featuring Pharrell: "Aerosol Can"- Not even that giant hat can stop Pharrell with all the momentum he built up in 2013. "Aerosol Can, bom bom bom bom/ Monkey outside, bom bom bom bom," goes the hook. Any meaning to be found? Probably not. It doesn't matter though, because Major Lazer know how to get butts moving.

Schoolboy Q: "Break The Bank"- The latest single in preparation for the much anticipated Oxymoron LP has all of the terror and panic of an armed robbery. Faint wailing, echo effects, and a chilling piano part fill this track out. While the rest of Schoolboy's recent output has been mainly comprised of club hits, "Break The Bank" finds Q taking a chainsaw to his past, angry about his upbringing and ready to move on with his life. It's the first song he has put out in a while that really rattles you, and makes you realize that if he does somehow end up drowning in Kendrick Lamar's immense shadow, he won't let it happen without kicking and screaming first.

Thundercat: "Vulnerable People"- Another thick groove from Flying Lotus's favorite bassist. This one sounds like it could play over the end credits of a late 80s flick. Bump this one from that pink Cadillac you probably don't have.

Karen O featuring Ezra Koenig: "Moon Song"- As if Her was not unbelievably heartfelt and perfect enough, this recording has just surfaced of Karen O, the original co-writer (along with director Spike Jonze) of the Oscar nominated "Moon Song," singing a lovely duet with Vampire Weekend's lead singer, Ezra Koenig. Koenig does a great job not taking over or distracting here, pitching in just the right amount. Whether or not you prefer Scarlett Johansen's version from the movie itself, we certainly welcome the star-studded harmonies here.

Disclosure featuring Mary J Blige: "F For You"- Disclosure has followed up their breakout success with a series of collaborations, starring Joey Bada$$, Bishop Nehru, and an upcoming performance with Lorde at this year's BRIT Awards. These all pale in comparison, however, to the vocal stylings of Mary J. Blige that have been added onto the already excellent "F For You." When you set the bar this high, the only question left is who they plan to give their signature face trace to next.

Diving In: Binge Listening to Beck's Discography

"Diving In" is a series where I look at a musician that I have almost zero knowledge of and listen to most or all of their discography. My first installment is on the one of a kind experimental rock/folk artist, Beck.

I usually like to know quite a bit about a musician before I consider going to see them in concert, but because of the infectiously liberal, rogue attitude that comes with the music festival experience, I decided to take a chance one night this August and see Beck, an artist that I had little to no interest in ever listening to (my only exposure to his work thus far being "Loser" and "E-Pro"). My buddy Sam and I somehow slipped by thousands of eager Canadians, racked with excitement, crowding the Osheaga mainstage, all waiting for a glimpse of this folky, rapping, rambling oddity. The plan was to go see a bit of the Beck show, catch part of Angel Haze's set, and then hustle over to the electronic stage to catch the DJ supergroup C2C. Then the sky opened up. Serious downpour. Streaks of lightning lit up the Montreal skyline on the other side of the lake. It was like some higher force didn't want Beck to perform. The gods themselves didn't want me to come into contact with the guy. A half an hour passed from when he was supposed to start the show. Just before we were ready to completely give up on Beck for good and leave a cheery family of Ottawans we had befriended that had made our time waiting in the rain a little less unbearable, a pale, fedora wearing figure emerged.

Over the next 90 minutes Beck proceeded to wash my entire skeptical outlook clean. He shape shifted from genre to genre, a sonic chameleon. He only let up for one minute, and it was to acknowledge how amazing the fireworks and lightning were that shined overhead. Already an established figure in the music industry for years, Beck had nothing to prove that night, especially not to two silly, overly critical teenagers from Newton, Massachusetts. But watching him play his music, you could tell he knew no other way to play than with full determination. Maybe that's because he is a natural showman, or maybe it's because he started his career knowing that no one would give him the time of day, just like we weren't willing to, unless he gave the audience something really special to watch. Beck made me a believer that night, and it was more than enough to convince me to give a few of his studio albums a shot.

***************************************************************************************************

Mellow Gold- With an arsenal that includes slide guitar, a romping, stomping rhythm section, and buckets of feedback, Mellow Gold transformed Beck Hansen, an obscure noise-rock artist, into a sensation. While "Loser" alone put Beck on the radar, it would be criminal to overlook the rest of this album. The very next song after "Loser, "Pay No Mind (Snoozer)," is a slow acoustic strummer that completely rejects all of the commercial success that Beck foresaw receiving from his first hit. Comprised of mostly chaotic compositions like "Soul Suckin Jerk" and "Sweet Sunshine," Mellow Gold sounds like it was belched out of the dingiest, dustiest, chasm of the Southwest. It comes to a close with "Blackhole," a song that rides out peacefully into the sunset, until the very end, where a moment of silence is followed by what sounds like the record trying to self-destruct.

Odelay- In what very well may be one of the better products of artistic risk taking in recent music history, Beck further delves into toying with far-out instrumentation here. If Mellow Gold has a geographic location (Bumfuck, USA), Beck's increased experimentation takes Odelay completely off the map. We're taken on a series of endless left turns, like on "Lord Only Knows," a song that starts with a deathly scream and goes on to sound like a lost track from the Rolling Stones' Let It Bleed. The stretch of "Derelict," a sitar infused trip, "Novacane," a hodgepodge of different grooves and noises orbiting Beck's mind, and "Jackass," a beautiful song with a crystal clear melody, might be enough to short circuit your brain. Just when you think super sly "Where It's At" is too cool for its own good, in comes a robotic voice bleeping away, "Two turntables and a microphone!" Fat bass lines layer the circusy organ sampled from Sly and the Family Stone's "Life" on "Sissyneck." He ties everything up perfectly on "Ramshackle," where he tries to hide with someone (who knows who) in the comfort and safety of his music. It's so intimate that it almost feels like he's recording it from his kitchen table, as he sings, "So take off your coat/ Put a song in your throat/ Let the dead-beats pound all around." Pretty mature stuff for a guy who had previously written a song entitled, "Fuckin With My Head (Mountain Dew Rock)."

Midnight Vultures- Beck puts on his dancing shoes on Midnight Vultures. Only Beck would start an album off with a funky horn-filled thrill ride called "Sexx Laws," complete with a banjo break. He does a pretty damn fine Prince impression on "Nicotine and Gravy." He takes a stab at Diddy style production on part of "Hollywood Freaks." Midnight Vultures is Beck leading us on a wild goose chase through urban streets and back alleys. Every song is a dare, testing the limitations of exactly how strange things can get before people stop moving their feet.  It all leads up to "Debra," which now seems like the prototypical Flight of The Concords song. "I went to get with you/ And your sister/ I think her name is Debra," he belts, making him a perfect three for three so far on album closers.

Sea Change- The album cover to Sea Changes is very telling. Beck is a wide eyed observer for much of this album, far more passive here than ever before. He might be stripping down some of the craziness that comes with his earlier works, but that doesn't make Sea Changes any less imaginative. Nothing is soiled or skewed here. Even the twang of the guitar on "Side of The Road" that is so reminiscent of past Beck albums sounds clearer and crisper this time around. As for the lush orchestral arrangements, like the one found on "Paper Tiger," it was only a matter of time. On Sea Changes, Beck shows that he is much more than a young and rowdy twenty something, and that he has the ability to age gracefully. Let the golden age begin.

Guero- What genre of music was left for Beck to conquer going into Guero? The answer is nothing that you would actually want to here from him, as Beck just sort of does Beck and lays down some solid tunes on this one. "E-Pro" and "Go It Alone" are just about as badass as Beck can possibly get. "Que Onda Guero" is one of his most solid attempts at hip-hop to date. If there's anything to say about Guero, it's that it moves. It's a definite head-bobber. The hispanic influence, which is present in much of the Los Angeles native's music, cannot be denied here (see "Earthquake Weather"). But none of what surfaces is a dramatic change in tone for Beck. This particular collection of songs never commits to some sort of bold, new style. While Beck seems to reinvent himself on nearly every album he's made up to this point, Guero takes the good pieces of all of those past experiments and puts them together to make a really diverse, fun listen.

The Information- While clearly serving as a meditation on machinery and computing in modern society, Beck never lets the concept behind The Information get in the way of its music. In other words, the digital age theme only makes appearances when it's convenient, and it's never too distracting. He takes a cerebral approach to the biggest question of all in "Think I'm In Love." "Motorcade" is full of building madness, while "The Information" reeks of an eery acceptance. "New Round" tries to find simplicity, trying to ignore the technological whirling going on in the background. Sprinkled in are a few classic Beck "walkin' down the street" grooves ("Elevator Music", "No Complaints"). Overall, The Information probably isn't anyone's favorite Beck album, but any fan of his will find most or all of its 62 minutes enjoyable.

Being the last of the six selections I chose to listen to, it saddened me to see the last few seconds of The Information tick down to its end. Luckily, less than a month stands between the world and Morning Phase, Beck's first studio album in over five years. Here's hoping that it can live up to all of his other fine work.

           

December/Early January Loose Track Round-Up

Just when we thought 2013 would slowly screech to a halt, tons of material was packed into December to top off an extraordinary year in music. Lucky for us, it seems like several artists are looking to kick off this year the right way too. These are the best songs that have been floating around the internet over the past few weeks:

Rick Ross featuring Jay Z: "Devil Is A Lie"- It's Ricky Rozay throwing a hoe down, and Jay Z is invited ("HOV down?" Forget it...)! Just when you started to lose faith in him after laying goose eggs on guest verse after guest verse, Mr. Carter redeems himself, and has a little fun in the process. Double up on that blow, bitch!

Broken Bells: "After The Disco"- Gnarls Barkley producer Danger Mouse and the Shins frontman James Mercer team up again as Broken Bells. It looks like disco revival didn't die with 2013, as Mercer uses his patented falsetto over a thick bass line.

Common: "War"- "He was supposed to be going to his junior year/ This is his funeral year." "War" finds Common fed up with the persistent violence on the streets of Chicago, his hometown turned battleground. No I.D contributes the military style beat, adding to the stellar body of work these two already share.

Phantogram: "Fall In Love"- You might have first seen this one as one of those ads on Youtube you immediately skip as soon as possible. Don't click that mouse just yet! "Fall In Love" is spell binding, as lead singer Sarah Barthel flies you over hypnotic loops and deep buzzing bass.

Vampire Weekend featuring Danny Brown, Heems, Despot: "Step (Wintertime Remix)"- If you've already listened to Ezra Koenig's light humming on the original version of "Step," chances are Danny Brown yelling "Back, back, way back!" will be enough to make you laugh the first time you here this "Wintertime Remix." The second time around, however, it becomes clear that this is an incredibly endearing offering from all involved, as three talented indie rappers salute the best indie rock band around.

Run The Jewels: "Pew Pew Pew"- Killer Mike and El-P take a much deserved victory lap. Verbal homicide ensues.

Freddie Gibbs: "Thug 'Til It's Over"- Gibbs will release the full album Piñata with producer Madlib February 4, but for now the Gary, Indiana rapper tides us over with this soulful (pleasantly out of character) finger-snapper.

Beyonce featuring Busta Rhymes, Azealia Banks: "Partition (Remix)"-  On what is certainly Beyonce's meanest, most thug endeavor to date, Busta Rhymes joins in on the fun as he brags about nice watches and fellatio. Also present is Azealia Banks, who shows off a much slicker side in contrast to her smash hit, "212."