The Singles Jukebox

Pop, to two decimal places.

Month: August 2020

  • Trevor Daniel ft. Selena Gomez – Past Life

    The past life, also known as March 2020…


    [Video]
    [4.29]

    Wayne Weizhen Zhang: I have yet to be impressed by anything that Finneas has produced for artists other than Billie, and “Past Life” continues that trend: generic teen pop that wastes the talents of Selena Gomez, who has had way more ambitious and interesting singles this year. 
    [3]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: “Past Life” is a rare combination of boring and unpleasant. The boredom comes from the songwriting– Daniel has nothing to say except platitudes that fail to reach escape velocity and free themselves from his cookie-cutter malaise. The unpleasantness comes from everything else– the grating textures of their voices, the mosquito-buzz of Finneas’ synths, the YouTube-cover quality of the acoustic guitar.
    [2]

    Katherine St Asaph: Not sure what it is — Finneas’s attempt to make a Barenaked Ladies or pop-phase Incubus song? The piano line precisely measured, like teardrops in bullet-time? Caroline Pennell‘s melody that knots over itself like a friendship bracelet? The Winamp visualization of a video? Probably not the faux-koan of a lyric (if “last night was the last night of my past life,” and if yesterday were tomorrow and today would be Friday…), but I remain a sentimental piece of shit, so who knows? And while Gomez’s teardrop at the end is very clearly Acting, maybe even CGI, I might have shed a real one.
    [7]

    Alex Clifton: Who let Selena work on this boring-ass Ellie Goulding song?
    [4]

    Alfred Soto: Did Selena Gomez release an album this year — a good album? Her part in “Past Life” may not have disgraced the section with “Lose You to Love Me”; she has a gift for clarity. With Trevor Daniel thinking he’s Ryan Tedder, her performance is akin to an embarrassed girlfriend ignoring her drunk date. 
    [4]

    Nortey Dowuona: This kind of synth ballad, with the noodling bass, washed-out pianos, and rote bass drum programming, is perfect for Selena, but Trevor apparently only had “my last made me feel like I would never be anything” in his notebook because everything he sings here is an embarrassment. But Selena is gossamer over this, and even her auto-tuning is a success.
    [5]

    Tobi Tella: Selena is difficult to figure out, but the “could be any B-tier pop singer” factor works for her here; her contributions are elegant, soft, and well-timed. “Past Life” itself is closer to schlock, but I can’t bring myself to fully condemn it because that focal line is so evocative. I wish it was the centerpiece of a more memorable song.
    [5]

  • Disclosure ft. Aminé and Slowthai – My High

    And ours!


    [Video][Website]
    [8.00]

    Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Singlehandedly the most chaotic, obnoxious, infectious thing that I’ve heard since quarantine started. 
    [9]

    Will Adams: When in Banger Mode, the Brothers Lawrence walk a fine line between assertive and boorish;  “My High,” which finds Aminé and Slowthai asking you to leave them  alone while they trip balls on the dancefloor, would seem doomed to be  the latter. Instead, it’s one of the funnest dance tracks of the year.  All the elements gel: Disclosure’s nimble bassline interacting with the  jostling percussion, Slowthai’s careening-off-rails verse, a  “Shout”-style breakdown, and, best of all, Aminé’s hook — “please don’t  fuck up my high” — both a rude rebuff and celebration of being in that  elevated state.
    [9]

    Alfred Soto: What a sleazy record — a thumper of a gay club track circa 1999-2000 (I can smell the sweat on the walls).
    [7]

    Scott Mildenhall: Almost a counterpart to “Deal Wiv It”, but with Slowthai relegated to sideshow (a lesser relegation than it could have been). Aminé makes for a less interesting foil — maybe not if you’re more familiar with him, but he brings little personality to the track, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if that’s exactly how Disclosure wanted it. The instrumental is the star, and he is at one with it, casually riding on top as it expands, contracts, and spins this way and that. It’s good to hear some vitality from the Lawrences.
    [7]

    Katherine St Asaph: You know that scene from The Phantom Tollbooth where Milo shoots the Soundkeeper’s fortress with a cannon, causing every noise and sound in history to come roaring out at once? It probably sounded like this.
    [7]

    Nortey Dowuona: So apparently Disclosure have decided to make good pop house again! The racketeering drums and Hannah John-Kamen bass are laid out as Aminé smoothly glides over it with a sly rictus grin, reminding us not to fuck up the high. Meanwhile, Slowthai continues with his post-NGAB styling and making everyone in Northampton proud. (I can’t wait for his Coloring Book/Gang Signs & Prayer-type album and everyone who previously liked duud immediately throwing up their hands.) It’s a pretty simple, good pop house/rap song, and thank god for that.
    [9]

  • Juice WRLD & Marshmello – Come & Go

    As promised, if not as scheduled, the second posthumous song on our slate…


    [Video]
    [5.00]

    Wayne Weizhen Zhang: A high-gear pop, punk, hip-hop, and EDM chimera of a song in which Juice WRLD posthumously exorcises and defeats demons that plagued his short but prolific life. 
    [7]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Bold of Marshmello to produce a pop-punk song considering it sounds like he’s never heard a guitar before in his life.
    [4]

    Tim de Reuse: I find the trajectory of Marshmello’s career train-wreck fascinating. His act is a Sisyphean exercise in streamlining EDM production out of all of its most worthwhile qualities: the synth vocabulary reduced to a few fat leads, no more than a handful of elements allowed at one time, and never any ambiguity as to what’s supposed to be grabbing your attention. The chunky electric guitar and indie mid-aughts handclaps, then, read as parasitic, like a car commercial noticed the stylistic void and muscled its way in. Outside of the well-delivered, insistent hook, Juice WRLD can barely make a dent in the flavorless gray mess of it all.
    [3]

    Katherine St Asaph: Substantially better than expectations! Marshmello doesn’t make the track posthumous “See You Again” sap — I mean, not that it’s above him — nor does “come and go” refer to what I was so sure it was going to. The track doesn’t come and go so much as get halfway and stay, and the muddled guitar-ish noodling doesn’t punch so much as waft with Axe (or whatever the kids use now instead of Axe). But I wouldn’t mind more of this on the charts, somehow.
    [6]

    Alex Clifton: The chorus is cool and feels like an anime intro — fitting, as that’s the style of the music video — but it kind of fizzles after that. It also doesn’t help that that chorus is literally the same two lines repeated until I can’t remember how to form any other sentences. 2020 has felt like a year of boring rap (save for Megan & Cardi), and this doesn’t do a lot to change that perception.
    [4]

    Nortey Dowuona: The slight, low piano progression, the low rumbling bass, the slow stewy bass drums, the All-American Rejects guitar riff, the handclaps, and the Chainsmokers drop — why do we keep letting Marshmello do his own drops? He’s not Tainy! Oh, and Juice is clumsy but kind and sincere, which I love. Rest in peace, MR. WRLD, and it kinda sucks you got outrapped by Big Day Chance.
    [6]

  • Brad Paisley – No I in Beer

    But there is an “i” in “controversial”…


    [Video][Website]
    [4.30]

    Thomas Inskeep: Goofy, well-meaning, uptempo Paisley is the best Paisley. “We’re all in this together” sentiments don’t always work at this moment in America, re: COVID-19, but this one does for me. Doesn’t hurt that “Beer” features lots of Paisley’s hot licks (he’s a stellar guitarist) and a singalong chorus.
    [8]

    Alfred Soto: Didn’t Toby Keith record this twaddle already? Upon inspection, no. The artistic decay of one of Nashville’s most charming presences continues. The telltale sign: Failing to summon an insouciance he wore as naturally as his hat, he forces it.
    [3]

    Will Adams: “There’s about to be a lotta beer in you and me tonight” — well, that sounds ominous! But it makes sense given how this song evokes a similar feeling of being at a party, squashed between bros, one of whom holds your mouth open, while another sprays warm keg beer down your gullet until it overflows and the foam dribbles down your chin. One point for the laugh that line provided.
    [1]

    Steacy Easton: For all of his musical skills (and the guitar here is excellent), one of the things that Paisley is best at is collegiality. In COVID times, this kind of let’s-get-together via Zoom has developed its own grammar and aesthetic, dependent upon whether you believe the sincerity of the performer. If there was a scale, with that disastrous “Imagine” video on one end, this might be the other. 
    [7]

    Katherine St Asaph: Oulipo for aging dudebros, InBev CFOs, and people whose hearts are warmed by crowdsourced Zoom ads, KPI-optimized acts of kindness, and front-yard signage reading “black or white, relax and have a beer.” That’s not a creative sick burn. It’s literally for them.
    [0]

    Nortey Dowuona: This is dumb and corny. The hokey, over-smushed guitar, thankfully lifted bass and kinda undefined and washed-up drums remind me of a band who played in a Long Island bar that I would read my raps in. In short, it’s my favorite Brad Paisley song ever. I might even forgive him for “Accidental Racist.” (ALMOST.)
    [7]

    Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Stupid, smile-inducing, and fun, in that order.  
    [6]

    Ramzi Awn: The elementary chord progression might have worked if the lyrics weren’t somewhere between inanity and a nursery rhyme. How low can we go? America needs more.
    [2]

    Alex Clifton: I’m distraught I don’t hate this as much as I wanted to based on the title. This is a doofy song about getting drunk together because the world is a shit-show and because drinking alone sucks. And you know what? It’s August 2020. I’m exhausted. I want nothing more than to chug a few Blue Moons in the company of friends. I want to hang out on a porch in the late summer heat and not give a flying flip about the fact that we’re living through five different historical events smushed into one year. I want one single day where I do not have to feel bone-deep fear about where the US–and the world–is currently headed, where I can just turn off my brain, close my eyes, and chill out. You’re buying this round, Brad. Just this once.
    [7]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I’m glad that Brad Paisley is having a good time.
    [2]

  • Maroon 5 – Nobody’s Love

    POV: You’ve just told Adam Levine what you think of his new song…


    [Video][Website]
    [2.56]

    Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Maroon 5 has put out some lazy hooks in the past couple years, but this one is downright indecipherable. The lyrics hints at a love story, the video hints at the song being about marijuana activism, and Adam Levine himself has stated that the song is for everyone, even specifically naming frontline workers and social justice activists. Accordingly, “Nobody’s Love” ends up being simultaneously about everything and nothing at once — and is dreadfully uninteresting through it all. 
    [2]

    Alfred Soto: “Inspired by the COVID-19 pandemic and the George Floyd protests” my ass. Another dumb ditty to which nine co-writers contributed apart from Adam Levine. TikTok is supposed to destroy this shit.
    [0]

    Katherine St Asaph: Are we sure this wasn’t made by OpenAI Jukebox?
    [3]

    Alex Clifton: Pro-tip: the production on your song should not make you sound like something out of The Californians!!!
    [2]

    Will Adams: Checklist: half of a corkscrew melody recycled from “Wait”; scraps of vocal squiggles left over from “Sorry”; compost of the past few years of inoffensive soft-rock piffle that Charlie Puth et al. have churned out. This is a landfill of yesteryear radio pop. Given this, I understand Adam Levine’s desire to make “Nobody’s Love” feel relevant. But dedicating it to frontline workers and social justice when the lyrics have zilch to do about either ain’t it.
    [4]

    Tobi Tella: I mean, Jesus Christ, guys. I know expecting passion from late game Maroon 5 is a losing game, but why is this so painfully basic? It’s supposed to be a dramatic declaration of love song, but is it really? Do you think these lyrics took longer than an hour to right before being focus grouped to sand off the interesting parts? And who cares? It’s hard for a band to be actively unengaging, but I don’t think anyone, including those who made it think it needs to exist.
    [0]

    Nortey Dowuona: This song is like Captain America movies: completely and utterly worthless, dull as dishwater and misusing the very talented black man within it, and only lames who gave up on Iron Man: Armored Adventures after the first season will like it.
    [2]

    Scott Mildenhall: It’s Maroon 5, so proceed with a caution that they too often do not. Zone out of the verses, attenuated in the manner of a rapper younger than “This Love” and punctuated with vowels that only Adam Levine can reach, and instead bask in the equally guileless, ’80s end-credits uplift. Yes, he did just rhyme “pocket” with “psychotic” and “lock it” with “unlock it”, but just be grateful that that — along with adding emotional blackmail to his love-as-possession repertoire — is all he did.
    [5]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The most tolerable Maroon 5 has been in a decade. It’s not due to Adam Levine becoming a better singer two decades into his career, or the songwriting getting any more clever, but instead due to “Nobody’s Love”‘s deep blandness. Where 2010s Maroon 5 stuffed their songs full of eye-catchingly bad ideas, the musical equivalents of snapchat filters, on “Nobody’s Love” they instead elect to simply ascend to their true vocation, as the prophecy of Songs About Jane foretold: the world’s biggest, most competent purveyors of elevator music. And it’s just fine.
    [5]

  • J Balvin, Dua Lipa, Bad Bunny and Tainy – UN DIA (ONE DAY)

    Proud to be the one Google result for “reggaeton Royksopp”…


    [Video]
    [5.08]

    Kylo Nocom: I won’t pretend that “Un Dia” is more than another quaint entry in the atmospheric reggaeton J Balvin and Bad Bunny have been indulging in for years now, yet it’s still sweet to see them collaborate with Dua Lipa in the romantic territory where she was once at her best. There’s some amusing indifference from J Balvin and some bittersweet words exchanged between Dua and Bad Bunny, but even if you didn’t turn to the lyrics “Un Dia” would still be great proof of Tainy’s talents at making chillness a virtue.
    [7]

    Thomas Inskeep: Dua Lipa sounds incredibly smooth on this bilingual reggaetón track, as does J Balvin, while Bad Bunny adds exactly the kind of spice I want from him on a collab like this. Tainy does a superb job knitting all the parts together; this could’ve been a trainwreck, but is instead the musical equivalent of a cool beverage on a hot day.
    [7]

    Alfred Soto: I expected automated reggaeton for all involved, and I was correct to keep expectations low. Dua Lipa sounds strongest, to my surprise, but her lithe vocal sounds beamed in from another planet if not solar system.
    [2]

    Will Adams: The stock criticism that “it sounds like they weren’t even in the same room!” is outdated, at a point where remote collaborations are the norm (and also at a point of, uh, a pandemic). But I’m not sure how else to describe the disconnect between Dua Lipa’s hook and J Balvin’s and Bad Bunny’s verses. It’s telling how the outro calling card does not include Lipa, but it’s more that the lyrics from each of the involved seem directed at entirely different parties. Tainy’s production is lovely: a lush reggaetón bedding set to the “Clocks” harmony. If only its yearning were matched by the performances.
    [5]

    William John: Dua Lipa’s victory lap seems to be faltering in the final hundred metres, between dubious Instagram posts, drab remixes (more on this later), and this, which is like a reggaeton rework of “No Air“, played at half speed and with all of that song’s interesting tension completely furloughed.
    [3]

    Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Dua Lipa is probably only putting 60% of her vocal ability into the hook, J Balvin sounds on vacation, Bad Bunny’s verse is just serviceable, and Tainy’s production is standard and unremarkable. Despite how spaced-out everyone sounds, “Un Dia” is still pleasant: a daydream about lost love that’s as hazy in vision as it is strong in sentiment. 
    [6]

    Scott Mildenhall: Like reggaeton Röyksopp with a bullet-time beat, the protracted pace and pensive pulse juice out the emotion gradually, making “Un Dia” undoubtedly durable. They’ve struck pure melancholy, and even the shallowest seam is priceless.
    [8]

    Jackie Powell: J Balvin’s imprint is called, ironically, Sueños Globales, or global dreams. Reggaeton tracks are popped onto chill or summery Spotify playlists, usually to display a more relaxed sexiness. But what’s the difference this time? The longing of the lyrics makes this track confusing sonically. Should this be a ballad, probably? Don’t other dancehall ballads exist? The motivation behind collaborations like this is usually to maximize exposure and to tap into multiple fanbases, generating monetary gain for all involved. But J Balvin and Bad Bunny foraying into the “dream pop” that Dua Lipa has made her wheelhouse is an uncomfortable contrast for these two, who thrive on high energy. This crossover backfired.
    [5]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: “Un Dia” would make more sense if its performers could agree on the type of song it’s supposed to be. Dua Lipa’s hook and Tainy’s mid-tempo beat indicate that the song is supposed to be moody and romantic, a melodrama in miniature. Yet J Balvin and Bad Bunny don’t really move to that– their verses sound about the same as their verses always do, like they picked up some clippings from the Oasis studio sessions and glued them together without concern for cohesion.
    [5]

    Nortey Dowuona: I feel about Bad Bunny and J Balvin the same way I feel about Young Thug and Future: One is a fantastic stylist with a massive range of emotions and talent who is a credit to their country, and the other is kinda average, with occasional moments of quality. That plays out on this track, in which one is passionate and anguished and excited and wonderful, and the other rotely takes up time until the beautiful Dua hook comes in. I hope we know which is which. (Sidebar 1: Tainy needs a drum pack, and fast.) (Sidebar 2: Kayla mentioned that T#*y L4m*s might’ve contributed to this. Well, hopefully he’ll be ran back over to Canada and we can install Ebhoni in his place.)
    [7]

    Alex Clifton: Four people on this song and yet not one of them can make it something I want to listen to twice!
    [3]

    Michael Hong: The biggest albums of the year weren’t without their problems: Bad Bunny sprawled on for longer than necessary, Dua Lipa’s lack of personality didn’t convey the excitement of her sound, and although J Balvin’s Colores was interesting conceptually, its monotonous palette dulled every colour into one. “UN DIA” is the worst: even in its most exasperated outbursts, exhaustion seeps through everything.
    [3]

  • Cardi B ft. Megan Thee Stallion – WAP

    Our takes may have gone cold, but is this song still hot?


    [Video][Website]
    [7.50]

    Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Never in my life have I felt so sexually empowered and so on the verge of laughter at the same time. The only thing that could make “WAP” even more fire is the success of this petition.
    [9]

    Alfred Soto: A platform for a world-class emcee and an excellent contemporary realizing her powers to sell toughly enunciated raunch even when a few lines could use another pass; but, hey, Ben Shapiro’s upset already, so good on Cardi and Megan.
    [7]

    Thomas Inskeep: There are so many amazing lyrics in this song, you really need to read its Genius page. (My personal favorite line is Cardi referring to her uvula with “I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat.”) I also love the annotation for the first chorus, which starts “Talking about her WAP is pretty commonplace for Cardi, so her making a song about it almost seemed inevitable,” before giving a series of examples: research! And beyond the lyrics, which are the epitome of the phrase “women on top,” the song’s groove is so minimalist and brilliant, my god. It’s basically just a bassline, a click track, and the absolute perfect sample, from Frank Ski and Al “T” McLaran‘s 1993 B’more classic “Whores in This House.” (Another brilliant touch: the horn that blares, just once, after Cardi’s “big Mack truck” line.) Cardi and Megan are such an ideally suited pair — I mean, I really didn’t expect Megan to have another single even more newsworthy than her “Savage” remix this year, did you? — whose vocals complement each other just so, just *chef’s kiss*.
    [10]

    Jessica Doyle: “WAP” is not at all disturbing, but it is impressive, and truth be told, it does make me uncomfortable. Megan Thee Stallion’s part, mainly. Not Cardi’s — I’m not so thick-headed as to object to Cardi being raunchy; Cardi gets raunchy to make a point that her background, her past worries about money and her ability to provide for her family, her sense of humor, and her ability to enjoy sex are all intertwined, and we should be able to deal with all of them together. But from reading interviews with Megan I get the distinct impression that she wants to make, and is capable of making, a good many different points, on a good many different topics; her ability to enjoy sex may actually be the least interesting thing about her. And collaborating with Cardi, in a song where Cardi goes first, could have, in theory, freed Megan to outsource the raunchiness, bounce off it and take things in a different direction, instead of having to say things like, “If it don’t hang, then he can’t bang.” I’m not finding fault with her, for what it’s worth. Cardi called it: we’re the ones who insist that women (especially, but not only, nonwhite women) talk about enjoying sex even if we’d all be better off if they talked about how to manage nursing homes.
    [5]

    Katherine St Asaph: “WAP” is a fun song, if low-key, with a well-deployed sample, always-welcome Megan and steadily improving Cardi. It is 75% as dirty as the average Cupcakke track, let alone many tracks by men. (Illustrative: The chorus to Megan’s own “Hot Girl Summer” consists of Ty Dolla $ign Dennis Reynoldsing about his “five-star dick.” Nobody gave a fuck.) But it’s not about the WAP, not really. Cardi B unites, like no other artist currently, rampaging stans and runoff hipsters, both of whom view the Invasion of Privacy BNM as an atrocity for which all critics and fanbases must be held accountable forever. The artist credit, as much as the raunch, is why “WAP” has joined “Stupid Hoe” and “My Humps” as songs that commenters will gripe about for years as the one thing wrong with modern music. Other commenters will overpraise it and liken it to “My Neck, My Back” and “What’s Your Fantasy” (and no other songs by Khia or Shawnna, if they can even name them). Other commenters from academia or Cracked will one-up everyone by mentioning Bessie Smith or Lucille Bogan. Still others will meme on: Interrupting Kylie. Hypothetical Kidz Bop covers.Goop on your grinch. The mac and cheese vine. The opera singer Tiktok. The USPS Tiktoks. Ben Shapiro reading the lyrics. The gyno responding to Ben Shapiro reading the lyrics. The Song-a-Day guy remixing Ben Shapiro reading the lyrics. Donald Trump making the White House showerheads wetter. Claudia Conway setting Kellyanne’s ringtone to “WAP.”The headline “Why Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s “WAP” is actually a public health triumph.” The headline “This $3.69 million Bloomfield Hills mansion is serving big WAP energy.” The headline “50 Sexts To Send In The Morning, Inspired By WAP.” Someone well-meaning will tweet about how not everyone’s P gets W; someone less well-meaning will screenshot it with “I hate this website.” Someone will go on 15.ai, when it’s up again, and have it read by Rainbow Dash. SNL will do a skit with Maya Rudolph about wet-ass polls. This, of course, is all about the Internet (a slice of it, at least) and not the music. But the Internet is people, in 2020 more so than ever, and for everyone consuming it via regular-degular terrestrial radio (which it is on) there are two consuming it online and producing in turn. We — all 20 of us — may read music writing for the joy of having songs unexpectedly cracked open, not for the Discourse of when and who it’s OK to crack it open for, and how much it’s acceptable to rap about it. But it’s too late. “WAP,” from start, was transformed permanently from song to straw fallacy. And you know what you don’t have if you’re made of straw?
    [6]

    Alex Clifton: “Macaroni in a pot” belongs in the Hague — just slightly too evocative for my tastes — but otherwise this is perfect. Cardi and Megan have created the most fun single of 2020 and have reminded me what it feels like to enjoy things. Also, anything that distresses Ben Shapiro has to be good.
    [9]

    Will Adams: “WAP,” if nothing else, is symbolic of how accelerated the progress from Big Pop Event to Memecourse has become. Within days of release, it’s no longer about a team-up of two high profile women rappers. It’s now (also) about the DEFCON-5 levels of pearl-clutching from people with absolute zero hip hop literacy. It’s about how quickly we can sync Ben Shapiro’s stone-faced recitation of the lyrics to the instrumental. It’s about an artist who literally released a hit single titled “Fuck You” pooh-poohing “adult content.” It’s about what Carole Baskin has to say about the tigers in the video. It’s about memeing at a mile a minute and the inevitable media co-opting of what is at its core a raunchy song about being good at sex as additional fodder for our political hellscape. If this feels unfair to the song, consider that this is simply an extension of the pop machine’s design. Take the hyper-color video, which stops dead for an extended Kylie Jenner cameo, and feels similarly engineered for maximum clicks (and yes, this is not unique to this song). This score reflects both my fondness for “WAP” as a song — knocking beat, memorable lines and boundless energy from the two leads — as well as frustration with the trend of external context overwhelming everything at hyper-speed. Bring a bucket and a mop for this Mess Ass Discourse.
    [6]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I don’t have anything profound or particularly funny to say about this song that hasn’t likely been said already but I do want to make sure everyone is aware of the clean version of the clean version, which replaces “Wet Ass Pussy” (already once sanitized to “Wet And Gushy”) with “Wet Wet Wet Wet”, censors out Cardi’s reference to the uvula, censors the word “Hoes” every one of the 72 times it appears, yet somehow leaves in Megan saying “Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me.” “WAP” is an endless font of joy and I hope the institution of the overly sanitized radio edit continues long after the death of the radio as a communications medium.
    [8]

    Jonathan Bradley: It’s delightful to hear Cardi and Megan play off one another like this, highlighting each other’s strengths. Megan bustles through, tossing syllables like dodge balls — “gobble me, swallow me, drip down the slide of me,” she dribbles together, just to show she can, before getting measured: recognize how she balances “I’m looking for a beating” with “in the food chain, I’m the one that’s eating.” Cardi highlights her compadre’s technical prowess; for her part, it’s her theatricality that shines. Performance is what we expect from Cardi, but she shows out in entirely new ways on “W.A.P.,” cartoonishly invoking that “little dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat” and sketching like a caricaturist an image of a “BIG — MACK — TRUCK” that parks “right in this little garage.” (I think it might be the first time Cardi’s suggested anything about herself might be diminutive.) Rap is built on competition, but sometimes a song comes along designed to allow everyone involved to show off how good they really are. I’m hoping for a remix that gives five or six more MCs the chance to flex like these two do here.
    [9]

    Nortey Dowuona: Usually these are pretty short but I’m gonna lengthen it out for a bit: 1: The song is mid. There’s not much to it but a purring base house bass, a loop of “there’s some hoes in this house”, busy bass drums with hidden percussion. and Meg just trying out a sharp doubletime flow she’s been tucking away for a bit to make all your other rap faves feel confident in their borrowed, poorly sewn-up raps. Cardi piles her lines up like a Jenga, and Meg sweeps them off just doing a perfect routine. 2: Cardi was soooooo mid. So dependent on the delivery but no flow, a handful of good lines and nothing else. Just practice these for a bit then spit them! but instead it’s this rigid, stuck-in-the-bass flow that drags until Meg comes in and uses the darn beat like jump rope. 3: “If it don’t hang, then he can’t bang.” Good googly mooogly! Not in the slightest bit mid! Meg has been on a tear this year, and here’s another notch in her belt. 4: The controversy is mid. Really, after years of Hardcore, Da Baddest Bitch, “Enquiring Minds,” and Jeanius are we still gonna be mad about women rapping about sex? Why is this still a discussion we have to have? Can we all admit we’re all bored stiff by this horrible pandemic and just need a scapegoat to flush out all our inadequacies on this otherwise average song? 5: The rap scene is mid. As cool as it is to see City Girls work with Doja, Doja work with Rico and Nicki, and of course Cardi with Meg, these women-rapper collabs happen too infrequently to get so worked up about. Like, Cardi was on fire in 2017 — she def could’ve put Cupcakke, Maliibu Miitch, City Girls and Rapsody on a Ladies Night joint! The fact that none of their teams were trying to make more collabs with women happen is a travesty. (Shout out to Queen Latifah, who was regal as ever on “Hatshepsut.”) 6: This is all mid. In all honesty, we could be listening to more women rappers like Nezi Momodu, Dai Burger, Vintage Lee, Latasha Alcindor and Tokyo Jetz, and covering them and putting them in music vids instead of boring Kylie, but I guess anything that might be above mid might not attract enough attention. 7: Rosalia’s hand movements….were kinda mid.
    [6]

  • The Weeknd – Snowchild

    We can’t wait for The Weeknd to begin give in…


    [Video][Website]
    [4.17]

    Tobi Tella: The Peter Pan of cocaine and women finally has to grow up! After Hours was the first time I’ve really fully bought into the hype; it was nice to feel some sense of progression in the persona alongside the fun songs. There’s a lot of vulnerability here in a less overblown way than normal, and it helps me try to swallow things like saying Coachella was brazy.
    [6]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: If “Tell Your Friends” was The Weeknd at his most glorious, a faux-70s funk rock luxuriation in self-mythology, “Snowchild” feels like the reunion record from circa 1985, all the exciting excess trimmed off to reveal the hollow space of ego underlying it. It’s a song that is so steeped in self-regard that I can’t imagine anyone other than Abel himself enjoying it.
    [2]

    Will Adams: Gorgeous instrumental — a late-night, walking-through-the-city desolation that evokes Sofi de la Torre — and, at its core, a fittingly retrospective concept (“leaving into the night” goes the simple chorus). But Abel’s insistence on undercutting all that with a smattering of similes, each one goofier than the last, makes for a dissonant listen.
    [5]

    Kylo Nocom: “Futuristic sex, give her Philip K. dick” is a fantastic quip out of context. Hearing it rendered in sensitive falsetto over decaying synths is one of this year’s greatest disappointments.
    [4]

    Katherine St Asaph: If you told me the verse phrasing came from a demo of Julia Michaels imitating a Weeknd song, I guess as an inside joke with Selena, I’d believe you; if you told me Abel thought he nailed the timing on the Philip K. Dick joke, or even knew it was a joke, I wouldn’t. It’s just weird references all around. Name-dropping Eminem and Jay-Z would have been lazy when he was praying at 16, let alone quarantining in 2020; mentioning Coachella hookups and Swayze in this close succession inevitably brings to mind the respective Frank Ocean singles, which do this better. “This,” of course, is the Weeknd’s usual hedonism comedown plaint, crossed here with Why I’m Leaving LA. But per form, it’s got a narcotic, heavy-lidded lull, and more importantly I’m a sentimental piece of shit who just last week teared up at the background music for a constellation broadcast. I underrated “Blinding Lights,” and it’s totally plausible I’d really feel this on some train at 3 a.m., leaving someplace you would leave at 3 a.m. But we don’t do that anymore.
    [4]

    Alfred Soto: Philip K. Dick, “dirty like I’m Swayze,” walking in the snow — Abel Tesfaye hopes the references cohere into an autobiographical narrative recollected in, if not tranquility, measured grief, signified by that falsetto. But Weeknd songs collapse as quickly into pronunciamentos against The Girl: for leaving, for staying, for making him feel sad. 
    [4]

  • Pop Smoke ft. 50 Cent and Roddy Ricch – The Woo

    Not the last posthumous song we’ve got on the schedule…


    [Video]
    [4.67]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: A strange bridge of a single– beyond even the standard oddities of posthumous work (check out that ungodly key change for Pop’s verse!), “The Woo” feels like a hodgepodge, crossing generations and regional divides (to the extent that Roddy Ricch is still a regional West Coast star) with little success. The problem perhaps lies in the precise combination of artists– while 50 and Pop are low-key and confident in their bravado, Roddy is electric, almost too energetic.
    [4]

    Joshua Minsoo Kim: There are about three different parts of this song that would function as a decent sound bite for TikTok, but as a whole this is disjointed and confusing. Starting with Roddy Ricch only makes 50 Cent and Pop Smoke sound lethargic.
    [5]

    Katherine St Asaph: A decent recreation of a late-’90s Kandi/She’kspere guitar loop, subjected to a series of unfortunate verses (and off keys?).
    [2]

    Will Adams: The Spanish guitar and the presence of 50 helps evoke the early-aughts vibe — something like “03 Bonnie and Clyde,” perhaps — that I’m predisposed to adoring from many a ride to school with B96 on the air. The sudden key change — announced via a “Candy Shop” quote — is interesting, but the fact that it was done for Pop Smoke’s posthumous verse feels strange.
    [5]

    Alfred Soto: Fiddy’s presence reminds listeners that the late Pop Smoke was five when “Candy Shop” topped the Billboard Hot 100. The flamenco loop reminds listeners of the 1999-2001 interzone when these samples suggested exoticism. Roddy Ricch is here to remind listeners that his was the most fully realized talent. 
    [5]

    Oliver Maier: Sinuous and detailed enough to avoid feeling like another paper-thin Latin trap hit, or a tossed-off epitaph. There is something potent in the structure here, the way Pop’s chorus heralds him like a shadow dancing along the walls, making Roddy and 50’s braggadocious verses feel genuinely cinematic (even when the latter rhymes “dick” with “dick”). When he materialises for a verse proper, the key moves down several notches to accommodate him; perhaps implemented as a way of sticking a verse and chorus from two different sessions together, the effect is nonetheless compelling, as if demonstrating Pop’s own gravitational pull.
    [7]