I don't know what it is about The National that makes feel as if I absorbed their music...like i'm swimming fully clothed in a pool full of tears and man sweat. It slows me down to the point where I'm not only struggling to move, but the world around me is also progressing in slow motion.
It's so exhausting, yet, so emotionally fulfilling.
And maybe it's the tears I'm physically wringing out of my jorts that are talking right now, but I have to get something off my chesticles: vocalist Matt Berninger just might be my favorite singer in indie rock.
His booming man voice vibrates me in all the right places on the low end, but as he climbs up a couple of octaves, this low haunting voice is transformed into shear vulnerability. I find...
Though falling short of the spirit of the infamous pair of siblings this EP gets its brazen name from, it does bring with it its own vagabond charm. Batsauce is on beat patrol and is steady clubbing his lane. From my limited knowledge on Bat I can't draw much of a first impression, but he's the glue here; through and through. This is not to detract from dirty dyad of Dillon & H20 as they are proficient over the EP's course. We're treated to a nice intro courtesy of Batsizzle (Batsauce) that wraps up "The Blues Brothers" theme song in a furious introduction to Boom Bap (or Blues Bap if you're so inclined; I'm setting trends, player). The eponymous track two is a rattling saber shaking at suckers, duckers, and fakers...
There is no point in hiding on denying my bias: I'm a Radiation City fan.
The music that Rad City creates is a perfect match to my ears: a little lo-fi, a little haunting, a little retro, a little reverby, and a LOT beautiful. They are the catsup to my weiner, the Beaver to my Cleaver, and the Brad to my 'Gelina.
Listening to the EP that they released last year, Cool Nightmare, is like walking through a quaint neighborhood in the early 60s that is so perfect...it's almost creepy.
And I love that sort of thang.
....BUT what if I didn't like their new album Animals in the Median? I've hyped it up on Syffal and I've...
Stop giving your money to millionaires that tell you how bad their lives used to be, and listen to Yung Joey weave a story of subdued optimism in spite of how shitty his life is right now. Joey‘s perspective on 2013 is that of a helpless child, abandoned in the ghetto to waywardly raise himself, now at the crossroads of adulthood and fatherhood. This mixtape hits like old Tupac with a modern production spin, and a quality rare in rappers with “young/yung” in their name: humility.
Seriously, a lot of humility can be found here. Rare and honest; not that fake crocodile humility shit that rappers usually spill over girls (which inevitably makes mention of fucki...
Very few things can make a Northerner pine for a visit to a small town in the Deep South:
Flannery O'Connor novels, quality barbecue, and an itch to jump the General Lee over a police road block. Yelawolf’s second solo mixtape, Trunk Muzik Returns can now be added to that list. TMR is just as true to the Dirty as drinking warm beer on your front porch.
There is a specific swagger to small town Southern hip-hop. Yelawolf, along with peers Big K.R.I.T, Field
Mob, Paper Route Gangsters, and Nappy Roots strive to prove that the big city doesn’t have anything
over the credibility of small town hard times. They’re bringing back a bleakness and realism that’s...