One of the biggest pleasures in music is the feeling of hearing an artist sprout new wings, soar over new territory, doing something completely unexpected. We love to chart trajectories and project the future onto the nearest wall. We love to dissect an artist, especially an up-and-coming one, to see what makes them tick. But despite all indications that they’re going to swerve right, they sometimes veer left. Some are left grasping for nothing; I’m excited to chase through unknown places.
Where All Is Fled crawled under my skin after a while. I listened, I liked it, and I listened again. Then I kept listening at work. I looped the album every time I drove. This sound world was burrowing its way inside me for weeks before I realized what was happening. The way this album became one of my favorites of the past year was almost… passive aggressive.
This week’s real world brought a deadly terrorist attack in Belgium, while the music world brought the premature death of a hip-hop hero. It was downers all around, and I struggled personally with some dark moments too. At least in my own case, I try to meditate, focus, and seek the healing power of art. This is how I keep perspective.
It’s also how I end up sharing music. Here we go:
I’m sharing this song today in honor of founding A Tribe Called Quest member Phife Dawg, aka Malik Taylor, who died this morning, March 23, 2016. He was only 45 years old.
Electric Relaxation is hip-hop at its smoothest and coolest, the absolute height of groove.
This morning, terrorist attacks in Brussels killed dozens of people and injured many more, stoking flames of hatred and fear around the world. There is no end in sight for this fire. But like with all tragedies, we’re seeing an outpouring of humanity from the art world.
Today, someone in The Durutti Column group on Facebook shared the video below, saying, “something I created a while back – a bit more poignant today mes amis…”
Arcology is a huge leap for the sound artist, real name Ryan McRyhew, after 2014’s hypnotic but oppressively dark Death After Life, which made my best of the year list. Instead of scaling up even larger, he’s taken his process apart and rebuilt it with more nuanced, texturally rich pieces. What once felt like dizzying vertigo is now a sprawling maze.
Sometimes I fall so hard and so fast for a new artist that, when their meager output has been exhausted, I don’t know what to do. The sound is perfect, but there’s only so much of it. This is what happened with beat scientist Bullion. How do I keep up with a guy who may or may not release something in the next year, next few years? The honest answer is that enthusiasm wanes and I start to forget.
But it all comes rushing back the moment I hear there’s new material: the hunger, the excitement, the unabashed shouting from the hilltops for all to listen. This just happened again.
Optimistic Underground 