No Fidelity Winter 2015 Issue 3

STATING THE STAFF Alex Adamczyk Paco Alvarez Gisell Calderón Francisco Castro Peter Centner Cyrus Deloye David DeMark Lily Eisenthal Madeline Garcia Sylvie Graubard A Noah Harrison Cisco Hayward Hunter Hunt-Hendrix Matt Javaly Urmila Kutikkad Ayana Lance

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Zach Leonard Sanders McMillan Gracie McNeely Ian Mercer Josie Naron Bob Otsuka Julian Palmer Lucy Papachristou Gerrit Postema Lucas Rossi Henry Southwick Alex Tippett Bobby Volpendesta Sam Watson Ben Wedin Katie Williams

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special thanks to david leibe hart

covers by a noah harrison

TABLING THE CONTENTS Lance................Concert Politics....................................................2 Staff..................Music Reviews......................................................4 Graubard..........THE EPOCH IS NOW............................................6 McMillan...........The “Money Beat”...............................................9 Kutikkad...........Thoughts on Jeff Buckley...................................10 Papachristou.....Songs From Your Childhood..............................11 Leonard.............An Interview with David Leibe Hart..................12 DeMark.............Fragments of Thought About 3 Emo Albums....16 Calderón...........A Perfect Collaboration.....................................17 Hunt-Hendrix....Transcendental Black Metal...............................18 McNeely............My Frustrations with “Top 40”..........................23 Eisenthal...........Become a Dancing Queen.................................24 Mercer...............Essential South American Rock.........................26 Javaly................5 Rappers U Slept On........................................30 Staff..................Weitz Center Playlist.........................................32 Centner.............Top 10 Most Sensitive Drake Lines....................33 Hello NoFi-ers (is that what we call you?), It’s ninth week, and because we are real people who also have to deal with things, this issue is a bit shorter than normal. But that doesn’t mean we skipped out on content. Our man on the street Zach Leonard snagged an absurd interview from Dave Leibe Hart (premier musician and puppeteer from Tim and Eric’s Awesome Show, Great Job!), and our resident Bullet For My Valentine groupie Ian Mercer reached out to Hunter Hunt-Hendrix of the band Liturgy and obtained exclusive rights to reprint the guitarist’s own manifesto on Black Metal. So while you are procrastinating on that last take home or whatever, you can sit back, relax, and know that every member on our staff is procrastinating as well (except we made a magazine with our free time, what’s your excuse?). As always, we hope this issue transcends your expectations, and we hope your pain is minimal as exam week rolls around. Toodles!

Sincerely, Cisco “Yeah, I’ll review BBNG’s new album for sure” Hayward

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R E V I E W S The Counterfactuals (Live Review)

By Ian Mercer

The Counterfactuals didn’t quite pack the house at J. Grundy’s Reub ‘N’ Stein for their new single’s release show last Saturday, but they certainly brought an absolutely stellar set to the stage. I gave the band’s debut LP Minimally Decent People a pretty middle-of-the-road review in a previous issue of NoFi, but I’m pleased to say that any lingering reservations I held for the band’s musical value have since been erased by the quality of this live show.

Dan Groll (frontman/primary composer/lyricist/heart-throb) has a voice that had always been my favorite part of The Counterfactual’s sound, and its strength was more apparent than ever during this two-hour set. His expressive and solid vibrato gives many of the pieces an extra dimension, and his impressive range is rock solid. Seriously, observe for yourself by listening to their new single “Might As Well Join.” It’s might be hard to believe, but Groll’s concluding proclamation of “The blood! / THE BLAHH-UDDD!!!” didn’t crack one bit, to great effect, during the live show.

The secret weapon of the show was definitely Jason Decker’s guitar and synthesizer arsenal. He folds rich and unexpected harmonies underneath the more standard sounds coming from the rest of the band. One unexpected highlight was during the new track “Oh My Child,” where multi-instrumentalist Mike Fuerstein’s rich saxophone tone was treated with an ever-changing gradient of reverb. It was almost as if the saxophone was coming in and out of aural focus throughout the piece’s duration. Decker’s keyboard parts could certainly have been a bit higher in the mix at times, but other than that, his contributions to the band’s live sound are invaluable in that they offer the tracks a valuable boost from their studio counterparts.

I wasn’t able to stay until the very end of the (admittedly lengthy) set, but I still feel completely confident when I wholeheartedly endorse The Counterfactuals’ live show. It’s a real pleasure to hear these songs come alive in person, especially when the crowd consists mostly of Carleton students. Be sure to check out thecounterfactuals.com, or maybe hit up their Bandcamp or Facebook pages. A new album will be out this year, and you aren’t going to want to miss it (or the great live shows that’ll come with it).

Drake - If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late

By Ben Wedin

In the 2013 music video for “No New Friends,” there’s a scene where Drake is sitting in a massive bubble bath, getting a chest massage and holding a bottle of champagne. It felt a little strange at the time: Drake was still proffering the image of a sensitive kid who followed his own path and turned into a rap star.

On If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late, Drake is no longer a star; he’s a legend...he’s the legend. He’s rap’s supervillain, looking down from the top of the mountain, disappointed by the competition. An appropriate scene for a song like “10 Bands” would be Drake lighting a Bugatti on fire just to try and spice things up for a night. The album has all the flavors of Drake we’re familiar with: wistful Drake, swaggering Drake, thoughtful Drake. He also seems to have found a host of producers who operate well in his aesthetic: sad pianos and bells, spaced-out samples that are probably reversed, trap hi-hats, and booty-dropping bass. This might suggest the album would end up boring, but Drake’s new persona as an aggressive kingpin is alluring and fresh: “I mean besides Ricky Ross, Aubrey the biggest boss here.” The entire album is similarly full of one-liners that reward multiple listens, which are paired with distinctive melodic and rhythmic riffs that showcase Drake as also one of the most technically gifted rappers around.

The similar instrumentals and subject matter across the 17 tracks may make the album feel a little bloated at times. Drake is not stepping out of his comfort zone much, except for maybe a song like PARTYNEXTDOOR-featuring “Preach,” which samples the Henry Krinkle house track “Stay.” This general repetition and lack of cohesion may be explained by the fact that this was originally planned as a free Gangsta Grillz mixtape.

But the zone that he occupies is still fly as hell, and it feels so good. As Kanye said in a recent interview, at the end of the day, “it works.” If there was any dispute (at least on the commercial side) of who is the current king of rap, let If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late serve as Drake’s coronation ceremony.

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Lupe Fiasco - Tetsuo & Youth

By Francisco Castro

What better way to introduce 2015 than with Lupe Fiasco’s January release, Tetsuo & Youth? Personally speaking, this is the best project Lupe could’ve put out at this point in his career. With uncompromisingly deep lines and a delivery that is becoming unique to the game, Tetsuo & Youth is a well thought-out piece of work.

T&Y is broken down into seasons, beginning with “Summer’s” optimistic beats and the killer nine-minute “Murals” that showcases Lupe’s innate talent for rapid-fire delivery. “Dots and Lines” was also a personal favorite. With its easy, almost ironic vibe, Lupe narrates his struggle to finally break free from Atlantic Records. “Fall” offers a more somber tone that features lovely vocals by Nikki Jean. “Prisoner 1 & 2” touches on certain issues regarding the prison system and racial profiling. The “Winter” section of T&Y sounds, not surprisingly, cold and features some of Lupe’s most thought-provoking lines. “They.Resurect.Over.Now” samples some Mike Shinoda-style beats and somehow infuses intergalactic lyrics with themes of passion and drugs. The nine-minute “Chopper,” brings out some raw verses. The hook, “Filet mignon with my food stamps / Car cosigned by my mama / Medical card from Obama / Background check for a chopper / Filet mignon with my food stamps,” suggests a tour around Lupe’s youth in Chicago. “Spring” is represented by only a single track at the very end of the album, a track that alludes to the initial “Summer” section with violin chords and sounds of children playing. (I am curious why he chose to leave “Spring” as a sort of ambiguous section.) However, if you listen to the album in reverse, the “Spring” section may be considered “Winter” and so forth, which completely changes the direction of the entire work.

Overall, I am very excited for the kind of stage T&Y has set this year in hip-hop. Many of these tracks are over seven minutes, almost asking not to be played on the radio despite their greatness. The entire work offers a critique of the hip-hop industry with numerous references to Lupe’s release from Atlantic Records. But that’s not to say you can’t bump T&Y. DJ Dahi produced well-thought-out beats, sampling sounds from across the musical spectrum. It has been awhile since I’ve come across something as well written and produced as this new work, and while I am optimistic that we have yet to see Lupe at his best best, this will certainly be one for the books.

Rating: 4.2 Lupes out of 5 Fiascos

Thee Satisfaction - EarthEE

By Katie Williams

On February 24th, Seattle based female rap duo THEESatisfaction released their second album, EarthEE. After seeing them live in Seattle two years ago, I was pretty excited about this release.

EarthEE is much more futuristic and experimental than their first, with Cat and Stas’ vocals gliding over synth-heavy tracks. “Post Black Anyway” is incredibly hypnotic with its echoing vocals and subtle jazz sections. This album really showcases the duo’s vocal range, with blending harmonies in “I Read You” and alternating raps in “Fetch/ Catch.” The album ends with the title track, incorporating elements from the rest of the album in one cohesive summary.

THEESatisfaction’s two albums are almost too different to compare, though still unified by the vibe of the vocals. The background music is just so different. Personally, I am much more drawn to the warmth and brassiness of THEESatisfaction’s first album awE naturalE. That said, I’m definitely impressed with THEESatisfaction’s new direction. However, I think the first album is necessary to hear first because it gives context of the duo’s background and sets the stage for their more experimental work. If you’re new to THEESatisfaction, I would say 1) put this magazine down now and listen to them! and 2) start with awE naturalE.

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The first time I heard about the Epoch was at a show last summer. I was at the front with my sister Nora, who is really good at subtly pushing through crowds because she is very tall and aggressive and also a misandrist, when some asshole’s attempt at spontaneous crowd-surfing culminated in him kicking me in the face, knocking my glasses to the floor. Nora handles emergency situations like a champion and therefore immediately screamed, “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HERE EVERYONE OR I WILL FUCKING PUNCH YOU” and snatched my glasses from the floor before they could get trampled. As I put my glasses back on and my eyes refocused, I noticed a group of people dancing next to the stage. They were radiant punk kids, grinning and jumping, a mass of entangled limbs. I nudged a boy standing next to me and asked him, almost breathlessly, who they were. He was kind of a d-bag and scoffed before telling me that they were the Epoch. He said it like it was italicized. I thought the name sounded dumb, and also maybe that they were a cult? But if they were a cult, they were a very hip cult, which I’ve never heard of before but could probably happen.

In 2007 a group of the coolest weirdo art teens, childhood friends from Brooklyn, formed a band called The Mighty Handful. They wanted to make DIY music fun and silly and accessible, with shows that felt more like slumber parties with homemade confetti and lots of audience participation. Eight years later, they were performing, with a few added members, at Lincoln Center.

The Mighty Handful has long since disintegrated. Now they are the Epoch, a collective of musicians and artists, and, as they often repeat, the Epoch is now. The Epoch is officially made up of ten projects and one official photographer, but everyone plays with everyone else. They are dedicated to the idea that punk isn’t just about music or aesthetics. Punk is a lifestyle, a dedication to inclusivity and the constant questioning of our social structures and norms. Punk is about doing the things that make you feel okay and having the courage to find out what those things are; it’s about fiercely loving what you love

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and feeling like a part of something.

The Epoch makes some screamy-yelly-moshy punk music, which is excellent, but most of the music they make is punk in another sense of the word. It makes me feel like my stomach is disintegrating, like everything is beyond fucked but will maybe eventually be okay, like there are a million different ways to look at things. They make music (and art and poetry) that empowers people. It makes me want to tell everyone I love just how much I love them, to talk about my most secret feelings and stupidest ideas, to make my own music. When my friend saw Told Slant he told me that half of the audience was crying, and everyone was screaming along. I think that DIY is the most important thing happening in music right now. It’s broadening the idea of what is okay to talk about, to make music about, to feel.

DIY basically means just going out and making music, or whatever it is you’re trying to make, regardless of whether you have a label or any money or a ton of knowledge about your instrument. The Epoch used to hand out instruments to the audience at their shows.

They reject the competition inherent in the music industry. Instead of competing for shows and fame, they actively support each other’s projects and encourage anyone to make music. With the advent of Bandcamp and Tumblr and all the rest of the hip-kid-social-media, it is really easy to promote your friends’ music. Everyone in the Epoch credits the other members for their help and inspiration, links to their Bandcamp pages, and writes heartfelt reviews of their albums. If you find one band, you will undoubtedly find yourself clicking through the rest of them. Some of the projects are electronic, and some are gritty, and some are lo-fi bedroom sounding, but they all share a similar perspective: sometimes my life seems like a big bummer, but ultimately things are going to be okay. This is why kids cry at their shows. Everyone feels like that sometimes, (or at least, I feel like that a lot of the time) and it is so affirming to hear people be honest about those emotions.

THE BANDS: My first favorite Epoch band was Sharpless. Jack Greenleaf makes manic electronica with cloyingly sweet, painfully sad vocals. It makes me feel kind of uncomfortable and unsure of whether or not to dance really hard or lie in bed with the lights out. My favorite song is “Summer 2012.”

I think that yours are the only ears is a really sweet name for a music project. Susannah Lee Cutler sings stripped down folk songs. She looks like a folk singer from the ‘60s. “Fire in my Eyes” is really earnest and sounds like the way my brain sounds but much prettier. I think that she is probably the kind of person who is intimidating when you meet her, but it’s mostly because she’s just kind of shy, ya know?

Let’s talk about Bellows for a second. Literally what the fuck? This music is objectively MAGIC. I don’t even understand anything anymore. Blue Breath made me forget that I have corporeal form. I don’t know if that’s true, but I did almost fall out of my chair twenty seconds into the first song. It feels like you are surrounded by everyone you have ever loved and they are looking at you wistfully and it is windy but also warm, and you are INSIDE OF Howl’s moving castle but also maybe you ARE Howl’s moving castle. Bellows is the brainchild of Oliver Kalb, who is maybe a wizard?

Eskimeaux is arguably the most famous of the projects by the members of the Epoch. Gabrielle Smith, who plays with Frankie Cosmos (and came to Carleton last term!!!!!!!) sings about earnest life shit and sometimes gets pretty funky. They just signed to Double Double Whammy Records! Wahoo!

Mostly I listen to music that I can legally download for free from Bandcamp (and Taylor Swift) because I am kind of an asshole, so it took me a couple months of reading the rave reviews for Small Wonder’s newest album, Wendy, to agree to pay the $7. IT WAS SO WORTH IT. Henry Crawford is a fucking genius. The album is about growing up, kind of about Peter Pan but not even in a corny way, which is a feat in itself. Usually when people use the word ‘lush’ to talk about music I think they’re being pretentious and annoying, but this album envelopes you with the lushest, sweetest, most sincere loveliness I can imagine. It is both expansive and specific and contains FUCKING MULTITUDES and makes me cry every time I listen to it. Also Henry Crawford is a Very Cute Boy and really loves David Bowie, which may or may not be relevant.

Richard Gin is the photographer for The Epoch.

He is an actual grown up and takes really cool photos that make everyone look really cool.

Maxo is different, and weird, and cool. It’s electronic jazzy music that sounds like it’s from a pretty trippy video game. Max Coburn seems like a cool guy. I listen to this music when I’m doing long readings and don’t want to fall asleep or be distracted by words. My favorite

song is “Drugs.” A lot of his songs have funny names, like “Sleach” and “Wuzza.”

I really like Florist. Emily Sprague reminds me of this girl who I worked at a summer camp with. Her name is Mary Claire, and she has glasses and blonde hair and is really earnest about teaching little girls that they can make cool shit, and also about body hair. Fuck yeah! Florist’s songs are sweet and about her real life and her real life sounds fun. “Gabby thanks for cutting my armpit hair / now I have to cut yours to make it a fair trade.” I get that.

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Lamniformes is super-listenable metal. It’s pronounced “lam-nee-forms” and is loud and angry and made by Ian Cory. It is music to scream along to and mosh to. There are many ellipses in the song titles but not in a stupid way. I like music like this. You might not. You should give it a chance, though. A lot of it is about sharks, which is cool.

Lago Lucia writes poetry! Isn’t it cool that there is a poet in the collective?! Their poetry project is called this is my moon. It’s largely on the internet. The poems are so beautiful. They are really cool and introspective, about all kinds of things, with a specific focus on gender. They will make you think about the way you perform your identity, which is a really cool and sometimes a spooky thing to think about (in my opinion).

Felix Walworth has a silly voice, and I love it. Do not let yourself be deterred by the subpar album art for

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Told Slant’s newest album, Still Water. This album changed my life and will continue to change my life in the foreseeable future. You might not realize it at first, but this is perfect music. The song “I Am Not” talks about drinking forties by the East River in the space where the cops can’t fit their cars. I have LITERALLY drunk forties in that EXACT spot. That may not matter to you, but it makes me feel like I know Felix Walworth, like he is just a scrawnier embodiment of all of my saddest feelings, and then all of my most hopeful feelings. MUSIC IS SO COOL WHEN IT FEELS SO PERSONAL AHH. The Epoch is modeling a really important lifestyle, one in which they love and support each other in carving out a part of the world that makes sense to them. It makes me feel like I can do that too, which is a really nice feeling and one that I seriously recommend. Punk isn’t dead. DIY isn’t dead. All you have to do is go out and look for it!

It’s one of pop music’s most popular beats. It’s the first drum beat many drummers learn. It’s the “Wonderwall” of drumming. Having said that, if you were going to only learn to play one beat, you’d play this. Some people think it’s bland, but I personally think it’s great and deserves a little tribute: the Money Beat.

What is it? 8th note hi-hats, kick on the 1 and 3, and snare on the 2 and 4. Think “Billie Jean” or any early Talking Heads song.

Why I love it: It’s economical. It lays down all the fundamental notes to set up the “feel” of the song - snare on the 2 and 4 (to “drive the beat”), kick on the 1 and 3 (to “ground the beat”), and 8th note hi-hats to set up the rhythmic framework of the song. However, it’s simple enough and leaves space for the other instruments. This is why songs with these beats are often “danceable” or “groovy” - again, think “Billie Jean” or early Talking Heads.

Obviously, the Money Beat isn’t ideal for all songs. It’s not the “best” beat, and there are plenty of other beats that are also groovy and danceable. You may want busier/more innovate beats, or beats that better match the rhythm of the other parts. However, when used moderately, it can really make a song “groove.” This is probably why it’s used more often in pop and rock music for a nice “bumping-my-head-to-this-phat-beat” feel. It also sounds fresh - out of the way of the other parts, it creates space to make the other parts stand out.

More cool things: The Money Beat is also great because its simplicity allows room for nuance and personalization. Of course, you can add nuance to complex drum beats, but for sloppier drummers like me, adding some spice is easier and more noticeable with simpler beats (or maybe I just need to practice more). Wanna phatten your beat? Accent the quarter notes on the hi-hat! Wanna make it funky and dance-able? Accent the offbeat notes on the hi-hat! You could even throw in some crazy shit like half-swinging the hi-hat notes. Since there are less notes, every note is important - levels and hitting technique matter a lot.

Like with all drum beats, this leads to cool unique styles of playing the Money Beat. You’ve got Chris Frantz (Talking Heads) with his mechanical style where each note is consistent. Or Phil Rudd (AC/DC) whose downbeats are emphasized on the hi-hats. Or Tommy Ramone (the Ramones) with his fast punk open hi-hats.

Tips for fast $$$: I haven’t yet addressed its name: the Money Beat. Yup, if you want to get rich quick, forget stocks and learn this beat. Okay not really, but pop producers really love drummers that can play beats well and in time. Being able to play crazy fills and patterns doesn’t matter as much. If you can play the Money BeatTM and make it snap, crackle, and pop, you can probs make it in the music world.

Some songs to check out to experience the full glory of the Money Beat: “Found a Job” – Talking Heads “Walk out to Winter” – Aztec Camera (shout out to Bobby)

“Blitzkriek Bop” – The Ramones “Radio Free Europe” – R.E.M.

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Growing up, my parents only played Indian music in the house. Every day after dinner, my mom would put a cassette into our sputtering tape player, and the evening would dissolve into green apple dish soap (really good flavor of dish soap) and Seinfeld reruns humming over old and beautiful Indian hymnals. Objectively being a lame jackass at this point of my life, I was pretty concerned about the lack of American music played in our house. Why wasn’t I growing up with classics like the Beach Boys and Kenny Chesney and fucking Rascal Flatts like other Missouri tweens??

I begged my parents to find some American music they digged to play after dinner instead. My dad offered up unexpectedly weird songs like “Follow Me” by Uncle Kracker and “Bubbly” by Colbie Caillat. Discouraged but mostly alarmed, I turned to my mom. She gave me “Rasputin” by Boney M. and “Hallelujah” by Jeff Buckley. It wasn’t until a few years later that I could appreciate the brilliance of “Rasputin,” and when I first listened to Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah” at my mom’s insistence that it was one of the most beautiful songs in existence, I was ready to scoff at it (see above, re: lame jackass). But those 6 min-

Ever Jeff

Matter Buckley

by Urmila Kutikkad

utes and 33 seconds did to me then what they still do to me now: they gave me real, palpable chills.

Probably I’d never gotten chills before.

Probably I didn’t understand what art and feeling and beauty of depth were before I heard this beautiful man’s take on a beautiful song. Probably I didn’t think my mother could understand. I don’t know what it was, but hearing that song for the first time changed my life. It’s a cliché fuck you!

Exploring Jeff Buckley further, I began to understand that “Hallelujah” wasn’t a fluke of beauty or a one-hit wonder. Jeff Buckley is an unreasonably and improbably talented musician. His first album, Grace, is one of the best out there. His guitar-playing is learned to the point of improvisational brilliance, his voice and range (especially the upper register) are beautiful, and his songwriting is honest and impassioned. What has always set him apart, though, is the way he sings. I can’t think of a single other musician who can draw so much shivering emotion out of plain words and notes, who can coax the goosebumps out of otherwise warm arms, sing with so much tremulous emotion that you’re afraid it might spill over. There’s something compelling and overwhelmingly genuine about Buckley, a soft-spoken Californian boy, and his premature death lends even more emotion to his music.

Even now, years later, I’m gripped by a sense of calm and simple emotion every time I listen to Jeff Buckley. His beauty is never not novel; it’s too genuine to ever lose its power. Aka you gotta listen to Jeff Buckley!!

Here is where to start: “I Know It’s Over” “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over” “Mama, You’ve Been On My Mind” “Mojo Pin” “If You See Her, Say Hello” 10

Illustration by Sam Watson

Nothing Will As Much As

Songs from Your Childhood

by Lucy Papachristou The moment the first few bars of “Secrets,” the opening track of this breathtaking EP by Jack + Eliza, hit my ears, I was immediately transported back to a humid summer’s night in mid-July, 2003. I spent that day with my mother, my mother’s closest friend, and her three kids. We spent that day like most other Saturdays when I was growing up: in Central Park, scrambling up the big mound of boulders off 97th street, eating a picnic lunch of deviled eggs and pickles, playing catch in the field of patchy grass. But as darkness began to fall, we lingered, feeling the pleasant ache of our tired bodies as we lay in the cool grass. Then the fireflies came out. Glass jars appeared out of nowhere (my mother knows what I want to do before I do), and we spent the next hour in complete ecstasy - such ecstasy only children will ever know - as we caught firefly after firefly.

Each of the five songs on Jack + Eliza’s debut EP No Wonders acts as sort of time machine, taking the listener back to those most precious moments of childhood in a way that only music can do. Yes, yes, this is probably the most clichéd phrase ever used to describe music, but in the case of this EP, it really is true, at least for me. Much of this stems from the band’s backstory. Jack + Eliza are a duo from New York City consisting of two college sophomores, Jack Staffen (NYU) and Eliza Callahan (Columbia). By the time they were both in kindergarten, Jack was already singing and playing piano, while Eliza was nearly proficient in classical guitar, having started learning when she was three (I mean, come on! When I was three I didn’t even know what a guitar was). The two met when they were fourteen, when Eliza joined Jack’s band as a fill-in drummer. They’ve been joined at the hip as friends and songwriting partners ever since.

So even thus far, this band has got a lot going for me personally. They’re almost my age. They’re from New York. It doesn’t sound like much, but if you add the fact that I actually met Eliza a couple of years ago, my attraction to this band’s work makes a lot more sense. It was my sophomore year of high school, probably the toughest year of my life so far. I was a total emotional wreck; earlier that year, I’d ditched all my friends, I hated my school with a burning passion, and I felt disconnected from everyone around me. Typical adolescent shit. So it was in this utterly despondent state of being that I was dragged unwillingly to a Passover Seder in Brooklyn one night in April. I was in a sullen mood as usual, and I became even angrier when I looked and saw a room of only fifty-year-old New York intellectuals (a.k.a. my parents…). But then

my mother’s now ex-boyfriend introduced me to the daughter of his best friend. All he told me was that her name was Eliza and that she was a year older than me. My first reaction when meeting her was that my knees started to shake uncontrollably. She looked so damn cool. You could tell just from the way she held herself that she was an incredibly self-possessed and mature fifteen year-old. (It was around this time that Eliza won the John Lennon Songwriting Contest; she is the youngest winner in the contest’s history.) We stood at the fringe of the boring grown-up party and talked non-stop for the next hour and a half or so. I shyly asked her a few questions about herself, what classes she liked at school, what she was interested in (music).

Mostly, though, I talked to her. I babbled on and on about how unhappy I was at my school and my lack of friends. It must have been incredibly dull for her, this poor girl who had to listen to the lame problems of some random kid. But she looked me in the eyes the whole time, asked me thoughtful questions that demonstrated to me that she was actually listening, and laughed at my pathetic jokes. It was one of the best conversations I’ve ever had with a peer.

I wanted to mention this story because I think it really influenced how I approach this band and this album. The five songs on this EP, each one thoughtfully constructed and steadfastly mature, remind me so strongly of being a child. Of being young and carefree, of catching fireflies in the Park. Jack + Eliza keep it wonderfully simple: their understated, intertwining guitars play softly in the background, allowing their gorgeous vocal harmonies to take center stage. Their songs are reminiscent of The Beatles and the Beach Boys (both of which they cite as major influences), but their music is far from derivative. There’s a bit of a hipster, indie vibe going on here (especially in their music videos, which look like old family movies from the ‘60s and ‘70s), but not annoyingly so. Jack + Eliza aren’t trying to prove their coolness to you. They just are cool. The song “Hold the Line” is probably my favorite on the album. Their vocal harmonies here are just flat-out fantastic, natural and spontaneous. The song sounds familiar, like a distant, almost-forgotten memory from your childhood. You’ve heard it somewhere before - you must have. This universality is the crux of Jack + Eliza’s genius. You are mistaken in thinking you’ve heard it before, because this band is anything but unoriginal. Rather, these are the songs you’ve been waiting for, the songs you’ve been singing in your head all your youth. And now Jack + Eliza are giving them voice, brave and spectacular voice.

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By Zach Leonard You probably know him from Tim and Eric: Awesome Show, Great Job! as the otherworldly puppeteer who appears in many short sketches, but David Liebe Hart has a lot of other projects going on - from performing as a street musician to selling paintings and sketches of images his fans request, he’s got a lot on his plate. When his new album, Astronaut, was coming out last month, I got a chance to interview him prior to the release about both his life and music.

It lasted for a while - between rants about his hardships, relationships that didn’t pan out, and even a brief history lesson on many of the alien species he sings about in songs both for TEAS:GJ!, David Liebe Hart never ran out of things to say.

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NF: Hey David, this is Zach Leonard. I’m calling about the interview we arranged.

DLH: Yes! It’s going to have to run a little bit short because I just got back from the dentist to get some teeth pulled and my mouth is all numbed up.

(Nevertheless, the entire interview lasted over an hour. Here are some of the highlights from this long, long conversation...)

NF: What’s been on your mind lately?

DLH: It’s just so expensive living in Los Angeles. And everything just goes up higher and higher and higher.

What hurts me is the companies I was loyal to and worked hard for were not loyal back to me. I helped James Quall get on TE and I helped him out with all kinds of food and clothes and things when he became homeless, and when I see him now, he doesn’t even speak to me.

NF: That’s got to be rough.

DLH: And women are the same way. Women say they’re going to show up on dates, and they don’t. I do Christmas decorations for stores - went down on my prices when the companies were going on hard times and need signs to sell Christmas decorations, then they went to my competitor, let me sit around, and didn’t have the heart to tell they weren’t interested in me anymore and left me waiting. I have the same problem with women I’ve invested in when dating. They find someone else and they don’t have the heart to tell me face to face… they just give me the cold shoulder which I feel is pretty mean.

to three car companies just waiting around, wasting time over and over again at these companies who weren’t serious about hiring me. It cost me a lot of money for gas and money for transportation… AKRON was the worst car dealer in Santa Monica, and the cleaners on the corner of Santa Monica and Westwood Boulevard and cleaners on the other side of the Sherman Williams paint store were both very disrespectful - had me come back four times, the manager was there all the time, and then the assistant said, ‘Well, he doesn’t want to hire you, he doesn’t want to hire you,’ and instead of him being man enough to tell me he had to hide behind his employees which I felt was very cowardly. It’s hard to find people who are honest.”

NF: Well it seems like you have some very strong opinions about Los Angeles. I know a lot of people think about going there to pursue their dreams, but what would you say to them about it based on personal experience?

NF: Did that lead to the song off the new album “Love and Gratitude”?

DLH: Yes yes, yes yes. It’s the way people are plastic in California - afraid of being honest. There was a woman I dated at the Christian Science Church and another at the Lutheran church, and when they met someone that they were more interested in, they should have just told me face to face, “there’s nothing, not gonna be anything else between us. I found someone else, I’m not interested in being with you.” Instead they didn’t have the heart to tell me and wanted me to guess by giving me the cold shoulder.

David went on to explain these relationship woes in detail, emphasizing his opinion on this “Californian attitude” and talking about other people who have wronged him. Through it all, he always mentioned trying to forgive people because for him, it’s just the “Christian way that [he] has to follow.”

“It’s just the way people are here in California. They have a saying in Christian Science: ‘Honesty is spiritual policy,’ and there are many more sayings in the bible about this, so I don’t get why Californians are so afraid of the word ‘honesty.’ And companies - I went

“I don’t get why Californians are so afraid of the word ‘honesty.’”

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DLH: I’m gonna tell you something - I’ve been out here, and if anyone wants to be an entertainer they’re going to have to sacrifice. They’re going to have to sacrifice and spend time in the trade, being in college or taking acting classes, music classes, and they’re going to have to learn to be alone and have discipline.

That’s what it takes. My career is now at a standstill because I haven’t been offered to do more stuff with Tim and Eric - it’s just not like people think it is. I tried to get on a new television show and was very hurt that my talent agent didn’t even have me listed on the website that I was represented by! And I was with him for five years, and every time I got work for Tim and Eric I gave him his ten percent, so I don’t know why he had the other clients up, but he didn’t have me up! On top of that, his phone was off, and he gave the job to another actor after I had read for the part.

So just because his phone was off, I missed out on a part to be in the new “The Odd Couple.” People are just playing too many games. Then, John C. Reilly, Tim and Eric, and other people who care about me said, “This guy, he’s your agent, and he doesn’t have you up as being one of your clients!” That was very embarrassing. It’s just the kind of mess I go through with phony people in California. So I had to let go of him, and now I just need to find another agent. Gotta

“I’m gonna tell you something I’ve been out here, and if anyone wants to be an entertainer they’re going to have to sacrifice.“

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have some people who will be proud of representing me and having my name online. I’m grateful for what he did do for me, but I just had to let him go.

NF: How would you describe your relationship with Tim and Eric?

DLH: Tim and Eric are great and extremely talented.

I was very lucky to work with them - they made me a household name. I’m very grateful for what they’ve done for me, but at this time they’re not using me on any of their productions. They’re only using really big stars. So I’m just trying to get something else and it’s been very difficult. I also just renewed my business license with the city of Santa Monica, so I’m going to be at the Santa Monica Pier Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays starting in February on a regular basis doing portrait sketches and selling my CDs, and I’ll also be at the music center every night in downtown Los Angeles doing music as a street musician.

NF: Have you incorporated any of the songs from the new album in those performances?

DLH: Sometimes. For the most part people will be hearing the older, traditional songs I’ve done on past albums and during my run on Awesome Show: Great Job!, but I’ll be doing those sooner or later. I just have to practice them more on my own because they’re pretty freshly new. But I did play some of them at a big birthday party for the president of a record company, and he liked the songs.

NF: I’ve been listening to the new album that your more good leadership in the community - people manager Jonah sent me when we were setting up thinking right, people doing right, people teaching this interview, and it’s been really solid. right. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. would be rolling over in his grave if he knew about what the rap music was DLH: Well thank you. I wish more of the fans were teaching. ordering it and not just listening to it online. I was very lucky to find Jonah after my old manager, Adam Papagan - when a relationship doesn’t work out, it’s time to move on. He’s been making music with me, co-writing songs with me, and is a very talented guy.

NF: One song on Astronaut that I’ve been wondering about is “The Pickleman and Mr. Moose.”

Could you tell me more about that story?

DLH: Okay, well “The Pickleman and Mr. Moose” is a true story. I grew up in the south side of Chicago, and my parents moved into a house that was a haunted house. That past owner was a police officer and he had two German sheperds that he loved a lot. While he was out working, someone robbed his house - it was a four-plex house at 8136 S. Ellis St. in Chicago, and his two German shepards got shot and came back as these two orange glowing ghosts, Mr. Moose and the Pickleman. There were three ghosts, one puppy German shepard and two adult ones, and the ghosts would tickle me and my sisters, pull off the covers - these were lonely dogs, connected to the house, and they were very close to their master. They would also throw the silverware and the dishes and play with me and my sisters. Ghosts really do exist.

Just like the UFO phenomenon is real, that one is too.

I’ve had a lot of family members come back and visit me from the dead, and they watch over me like the aliens do - when I do something that isn’t right, they let me know.

NF: Another song on the new album, “Rap Music,” also grabbed my attention. In it, you talk about how you think the rap music game is a very bad influence on the youth. Care to explain?

DLH: Yeah. It’s destructive. It just teaches hatred, disrespect for the law, disrespect for women… and I think the African-American rap writers, musicians, and entertainers are very talented, but their songs don’t have any structure or substance to them and they need to build up the African-American race and not tear it down - it’s always violence, it’s always drugs, it’s always running away from the police, shooting and killing people, and that’s troublesome. We just need

“I’ve had a lot of family members come back and visit me from the dead, and they watch over me like the aliens do - when I do something that isn’t right, they let me know.”

After this, David laid out some serious thoughts about one of his biggest peeves: wasting money on trains in the public transportation - the man loves his trains, and they’re a huge theme in his older music.

Whether it was talking about frustrations with America not using electric trains to cut down on pollution like other nations, explaining in detail how trains are often sold for scrap rather than being reused, or being able to point out specific stories about this wastefulness, he had much to say on the subject.

Overall, I learned a lot more about David Liebe Hart than I expected: his ghostly encounters, career as an artist, and general eccentricities really came through in the interview. He also mentioned that he is facing a hard time financially after using much of his money to record and produce his new album, so if you’re a fan or just interested in supporting this man and his work, buy a sketch, CD, buttons, t-shirts, or whatever else grabs your eye from his website’s store.

I’m sure he’d appreciate it.

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D A V I D dEmARK

FRAGMENTS OF THOUGHT ABOUT 3 EMO ALBUMS THAT YOU MAY SOMEDAY NEED

Panucci’s Pizza - All of my Friends are Familiar and the Steps I Took to Realize This

Irony is a difficult territory to navigate in modern (let’s drop the revival label - this is it’s own-ass movement) emo. Much of the emo being produced these days is rooted in self-consciousness, and this includes a meta-consciousness of the openly emotional or “whiny” nature of the music. Panucci’s Pizza somehow finds a way to address the issue without succumbing to the pressure of abandoning the directness of their means of expression by turning it all into a joke. Introduced to the idea by webcomic Questionable Content, I’ve taken the (itself self-conscious) idea of post-post-irony to be a legitimate philosophy for life as a whole. The post-post-ironic being acts entirely genuinely - loving genuinely, feeling and expressing pain genuinely and doing things because those things will be rewarding - but with an acknowledgement that their actions are a response to and mockery of the idea of “hipster” culture irony. Panucci’s Pizza is named after a location from Futurama that sells booty shorts with their logo on one cheek, and there’s a winking affect to their music-making - and yet when they mean to whine, they whine, self-conscious meta-commentary be damned. In short, either they’re geniuses in their understanding of hipster America, or I’m reading waaaaay too far into what they’re doing.

Regardless of that reading, taken at face value, All of my Friends are Familiar is a damn evocative album. The lo-fi aesthetic lends itself well to the intimacy reflected by the lyrics, which tell in plain terms stories of all-out self-loathing, frustration and desperation. Clever snippets and one-liners will follow you around for weeks, and the overriding bluntness of the Philadelphia duo’s “whining” has the potential to knock the listener off their feet with its honesty and universality. (Who hasn’t had a situation in which “and you hate me / and I’m fucking lame” would resonate?) Panucci’s Pizza is a young band, and their enthusiasm and passion haven’t been dampened by the

wet blanket of jadedness quite yet. While they may sometimes come out raw, All of my Friends is bursting with ideas, and it’s as fun a listen as it presumably was to make.

William Bonney - Good Vibes

William Bonney shares with Panucci’s Pizza their refusal to lose their intention to ironize but take a far more direct route to the same conclusion. Stubbornly refusing to address the issue, they instead take a route of unfiltered directness, and what an effective result that produces. From lead singer Jack Senff’s first warning not to “fill your lungs with emotion” to his chilling concluding epitaph “salt stains on my shirtsleeves / you left and I found a new me,” Good Vibes is a fucking rollercoaster. All of the feelings you’ve ever felt stack themselves on top of each other and overwhelm you. Drifting into screamo territory, the album is hard-hitting and consistently abrasive, making the listening experience akin to the type of release sought after through self-harm, should the listener let go of themselves thoroughly enough that the ego and Senff’s voice blend together. Sometimes you need to be screamed at, and sometimes you need to scream along. William Bonney provides an avenue for both, utterly eviscerating you at the same time they rebuild you.

Algernon Cadwallader - Some Kind of Cadwallader During the first week of my freshman spring term, I had a life-alteringly traumatic experience that has contextualized every moment since it. For some time afterward, I was effectively dead to new experience. I could hear an album I had never heard before and recognize and understand its beauty, but there was always an overriding block preventing me from establishing an emotional connection to the listening experience. As I’ve recovered and that block started to disappear, music appreciation experiences I used to take for granted have grown exponentially in meaning. One of these is the feeling of listening to an album for the first time and knowing that it will become a favorite - that you’ve been waiting to hear it for your entire life. When I heard Some Kind of Cadwallader for the first time, it hit me in the same way albums used to hit me back in high school. Falling in love with this album has served to affirm that yes, there is still beauty in the world and yes, I am still present enough to appreciate it.

As I’ve written about in my previous emo-centric NoFi articles, some of the most powerful emo moments are those that marry the seemingly incongruous component of despondent sadness with the joy and thrill of pure feeling. Life is boring when you shut yourself off to it, and there is inherent reward in allowing yourself to hit the polar regions of emotion. Algernon Cadwallader makes music that cannot be classified as decidedly “happy” or “sad,” instead reflecting the range and depth of human emotion. Some Kind Of Cadwallader is first and foremost a fun album to listen to with energy and elation seeping from its pores despite its unabashedly angsty content. Emo music is about expressing the humanity of its creators, and Algernon Cadwallader’s humanity encapsulates the listener in all its complexity.

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// A Perfect Collaboration: Yonatan Gat and Igor Domingues // Gisell Calderón

Serendipity is not just a John Cusack easily surrender to when they’ve got half the movie. It EXISTS. And I didn’t realize it did until chops of Gat or Domingues.

I happened upon one the most precious musical discoveries I’ve made in a long time: the powerYonatan Gat is the former guitarist of the house duo of Yonatan Gat and Igor Domingues. Tel Aviv garage band Monotonix. He was named Best Guitarist of 2013 by the Village Voice and I stumbled upon their 2014 EP, Iberian describes his sound as “homeless between Passage (released under Gat’s own name), one the Middle East and New York.” While Gat evening after a frustrating jam session with a built a damn-sturdy reputation for himself, Igor friend, where I had spent most of the time fuck- Domingues was drumming for the Angolan/ ing up drum fills and transitions. Defeated, I went Portuguese kuduro rockers Throes + The Shine. home, plugged my laptop into my speakers, By some work of Fate, the two encountered clicked a bunch of random links on Bandcamp, each other during a sound-check at a festival turned up the volume and began tidying up my in Portugal, where the emboldened Gat sponroom. I was at this for a while, lost in the task taneously booked a live improvisational show of locating the source of a peculiar smell, when with Domingues after hearing his African-infrom my speakers came a sudden crash of cym- fused style. The results of this were recorded on bals that settled into a meditative repetition. An a 7-inch LP and titled Live at Café Au Lait. The opportunistic guitar bit away at the rhythm, at spark had been ignited. Shortly following this, times sounding as if it were coming straight out the two recorded Iberian Passage in a spirit not of the album’s titular region and at other times unlike Miles Davis’. sounding more like Dick Dale - a bizarre combination. This continued for 4 minutes, the guitar Although the two musicians each have and drum interplay continuing persistently and their own well-respected musical styles, there is with purpose, drawing each other out, growing no hint of appropriating the familiar in their curmore and more embellished, when suddenly rent collaboration. Gat’s compositions become came the climax of the song. Finally, the drums much more informed by Domingues’ juxtaposbroke out of their strict routine and revealed a ingly wild, yet surgically precise drumming, crewildness that had been hinted at throughout the ating an intriguing mix of punk, tropicalia and entirety of the song. By this point, I had stopped surf music. I’m not going to say that Gat is at his everything to just sit down and listen. I don’t best when working with Domingues, but there’s know what it was about this duo, but there was something pretty damn special going on there. an energy in their music that I wasn’t aware I’d It’s unclear whether the two have been working been looking for: raw, imperfect, not over the together on Gat’s newest album, Director (set to top, only doing what was necessary rather than release March 3), but, needless to say, they now giving in to self-indulgence, something one can hold a permanent place on my radar.

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TRANSCENDENTAL BLACK METAL A VISION OF APOCALYPTIC HUMANISM BY HUNTER HUNT-HENDRIX PROLEGOMENON One could propose a new meaning for black metal along with a new array of techniques to activate that meaning. The meaning of Transcendental Black Metal is Affirmation, and its new technique is the Burst Beat.

The will to power has two stages. The first may be called Fortification; the establishment of a paradigm or set of rules and the ensuing exploration of potential that lies within those constraints. The second stage may be termed Sacrifice; an auto-destruction, a self-overcoming whereby the initial rules, having been fully digested and satisfied, are thereby mutilated. They are transformed into the basis for something new and unprecedented.

Transcendental Black Metal is black metal in the mode of Sacrifice. It is a clearing aside of contingent features and a fresh exploration of the essence of black metal. As such it is solar, hypertrophic, courageous, finite and penultimate. Its tone is Affirmation and its key technique is the Burst Beat.

The black metal that was born in Scandinavia in the mode of Fortification can be termed Hyperborean Black Metal. Hyperborean Black Metal is lunar, atrophic, depraved, infinite and pure. The symbol of its birth is the Death of Dead. Its tone is Nihilism and its key technique is the Blast Beat.

Today USBM stands in the shadow of Hyperborean Black Metal. The time has come for a decisive break with the European tradition and the establishment of a truly American black metal. And we should say “American” rather than “US:” the US is a declining empire; America is an eternal ideal representing human dignity, hybridization and creative evolution.

The act of renihilation is the betrayal of Hyperborean Black Metal and an affirmation of Transcendental Black Metal. And it is at the same time the constitution of an apocalyptic humanism to be termed Aesthethics. As such, the question of Transcendental Black Metal is only the tip of an iceberg at the base of which is hidden a new relationship between art, politics, ethics and religion.

PART I THE DEATH OF DEAD THE HAPTIC VOID AS FINAL CAUSE The history of metal can be considered in terms of levels of intensity. Considered in this way, black metal shows itself to be a culmination or endpoint of this history, and also a dead end.

The historical development of extreme metal is not a chance series of stylistic shifts. It is teleological - governed by a dimly understood but acutely felt Ideal, or a final cause. This final cause is named the Haptic Void.

The Haptic Void is a hypothetical total or maximal level of intensity. It is the horizon of the history of metal.

Orientation towards the Haptic Void is expressed as feeling. The feeling is a unity, but in thought we can break it down into four elements: There is first of all a certain muscular clenching, a constriction of the jaws, fists, arms and chest.

Secondarily there is an affect: a certain aggression or brutality, a paradoxical sense of power, destruction, fullness and emptiness.

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Thirdly it features a primordial satisfaction relating to the affect which acts normatively. Good metal produces a satisfying bouquet of clenching, constriction, and brutal affect.

Finally there is a barely discernable je ne sais quoi that says “not enough.” A complementary dissatisfaction - as though no brutal breakdown can be quite brutal enough. It is a fissure, a crack, a lack of being. An insufficiency compared to the promised plenitude. Maybe it’s the inability of any concrete song to measure up to the inspiration that gave birth to it. Paradoxically this dissatisfaction is felt in direct proportion to the level of its complement.

It is this dissatisfaction, this fourth element, which causes extreme metal to develop new styles over time. This is the pull of the final cause. This opening, this fissure, is the angel that guides metal’s history. We see metal march towards the void, leaving thrash, death metal and black metal, successively, in its wake.

But the promise made by the Haptic Void is a lie. Only its absence is ever present.

TRANSILVANIAN HUNGER Hyperborean Black Metal is the culmination of the history of extreme metal. Hyperborean Black Metal was born in the Arctic Circle, which is traditionally known as the Hyperborean realm. The Hyperborean realm is a land that is fallow because it lacks periodicity. There is no birth or death there because the sun neither rises nor sets.

Hyperborean Black Metal is the culmination of the history of extreme metal (which is itself the culmination of the history of the Death of God). The subject of this history may be compared to a mountaineer, maneuvering over and across the various terrains of thrash, grindcore and death metal – or rather, carving these terrains into the mountainside - and striving to reach the Haptic Void, dimly understood but strongly felt, glimmering brightly at the summit.

Hyperborean Black Metal represents the mountaineer’s arrival at the peak and a supposed leap off of it, directly into the Haptic Void. A total, maximal intensity. A complete flood of sound. An absolute plenitude.

But there he learns that totality is indistinguishable from nothingness. He learns that it is impossible to leap into the horizon. And he is left, crestfallen, frozen and alone, in the Hyperborean realm. It is a dead static place, a polar land where there is no oscillation between day and night. But stasis is atrophy. The Hyperborean realm is dead with purity, totally absolute, selfsame and eternal. The mountaineer undergoes a profound apostasy that he cannot fully understand and arrives at nihilism.

The technique of Hyperborean Black Metal is the blast beat. Pure black metal, represented by Transilvanian Hunger, means continuous open strumming and a continuous blast beat. But the pure blast beat is eternity in itself. No articulated figures, no beginning, no end, no pauses, no dynamic range. It is a bird soaring in the air with nowhere to perch even for a moment. What seemed at first to be a great clamor dwindles to an atrophied hum. Having climbed to the peak of the mountain, the mountaineer lies down and freezes to death.

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PART II THE AFFIRMATION OF AFFIRMATION AMERICA Transcendental Black Metal represents a new relationship to the Haptic Void and the self-overcoming of Hyperborean Black Metal. It is a sublimation of Hyperborean Black Metal in both its spiritual aspect and its technical aspect.

Spiritually, it transforms Nihilism into Affirmation. Technically, it transforms the Blast Beat into the Burst Beat.

Spiritually we acknowledge Nihilism, and we refuse to sink into it, impossible as the task may be. Transcendental Black Metal is a Renihilation, a “No” to the entire array of Negations, which turns to an affirmation of the continuity of all things.

Transcendental Black Metal is the reanimation of the form of black metal with a new soul, a soul full of chaos, frenzy and ecstasy. A specifically American joyful clamor which is also a tremor. Or maybe it is the opposite act: a peeling away of the husk of convention, the dead skin of clichés and a fresh exploration of the living soul of black metal, with the aim to reactivate its purest essence and produce something that grows from it but does not resemble its earlier incarnations because it is built from the ground up in a different time and place.

Built in America. An America that has never existed and may never exist. The America that represents the apocalyptic humanism of William Blake. The America celebrated by Aaron Copeland’s Appalachian Spring or Ornette Coleman’s Skies of America.

This America is a metaphor for pure unrestricted creativity, the courageous exercise of will and the joyful experience of the continuity of existence. A celebration of the hybrid and of creative evolution.

THE BURST BEAT The backbone of Transcendental Black metal is the Burst Beat. The burst beat is a hyper blast beat, a blast beat that ebbs, flows, expands and contracts, breaths. It replaces death and atrophy with life and hypertrophy. This transformation is accomplished by two features: acceleration and rupture.

The first feature of the burst beat is acceleration. The burst beat accelerates and decelerates. It has an ebb and a flow. This flow both mirrors life and stimulates life. It expands and contracts like the tide, the economy, day and night, inhalation and exhalation, life and death.

The second feature of the burst beat is rupture. The burst beat features sudden ruptures or phase transitions.

Just like all natural systems, it breaks suddenly from one state to another. Consider the horse as it switches from walk to trot to canter. Consider water as it switches from ice to liquid to gas. The moment of the rupture is the moment of transcendence. What is holy if not the moment that water turns to steam? Or the moment that a walk turns to a run?

The burst beat expresses an arc of intensity. It responds to and supplements the melodic flow rather than providing a rhythmic container or backdrop. The rate of change of the tempo, whether positive or negative, corresponds to a level of intensity. Any static tempo is a zero degree. The burst requires total expenditure of power and its very exercise fosters growth and increase of strength. And yet the burst beat never arrives anywhere, eternally “not yet” at its destination, eternally “almost” at the target tempo. Like a nomad, the burst beat knows it will never arrive.

By mirroring life, the burst beat stimulates and fosters life. By fostering life, Transcendental Black Metal affirms life.

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PROPERTIES Transcendental Black Metal exists as a unity, but in thought it can be analyzed into six properties.

Why is Transcendental Black Metal affirmative?

Transcendental Black Metal is in fact nihilism, however it is a double nihilism and a final nihilism, a once and for all negation of the entire series of negations. With this final “No” we arrive a sort of vertiginous Affirmation, an Affirmation that is white-knuckled, terrified, unsentimental, and courageous. What we affirm is the facticity of time and the undecidability of the future. Our affirmation is a refusal to deny.

Why is Transcendental Black Metal hypertrophic?

Growth is life, stasis is decay. We are committed to striving eternally, living a sort of permanent revolution.

Just as a well exercised muscle is beautiful and powerful, so we will be beautiful and powerful. In truth, there is no stasis. The only choice is between atrophy and hypertrophy. The celebration of atrophy is confused, weak, and neurotic. The celebration of hypertrophy is honest and alive.

Why is Transcendental Black Metal solar?

Transcendental black metal is solar in three respects, following three aspects of the sun: periodicity, intensity and honesty. The sun lets things be born and grow, so that they may die. The burst beat is periodic because is rises and sets like the sun. The sun mesmerizes and burns. We participate in intensity because we are not sentimental and we know that death comes. But why not follow a goal, follow the sun and chase after its flairs?

Why not go up in flames rather than dwindle to a speck of sand? The sun represents Truth and reveals all that it touches. We are honest because we refuse to lurk in the shadows, we refuse to point fingers, we refuse to perform our rites in secret. We are not sickly, spiteful, hateful. We do not hide behind costumes or esoterica.

Why do we revere the finite rather than the infinite?

What is sacred is the taking of each concrete step. Each honest decision. The infinite is obvious and everywhere. To engage the finite takes courage and produces hypertrophy. God is infinite, nature is infinite. The infinite is everywhere and cheap. It is the finite that is rare. It is the finite that is peculiar to humankind. Finitude means confronting what is present at hand authentically and doing what is honest with the means one has at one’s disposal. The solar nourishes the finite. The finite is born, strives, and dies.

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Why do we revere penultimacy?

Transcendental black metal sacralizes the penultimate moment, the “almost” or the “not yet,” because it has been found that there is nothing after the penultimate moment. The penultimate moment is the final moment, and it takes place at every moment. The fabric of existence is open. There is nothing that is complete; there is nothing that is pure.

Why is Transcendental Black Metal courageous?

Courage is open and raw. Courage means flying towards the horizon with no guarantee of a place to land.

Courage is the active, honest leap from one moment to the next. No dissimulation, no excuses, no irony, no complaints. Courage has no object of attack. Courage is not jaded, disappointed, disaffected. Courage is not a flight into fantasy or nostalgia. It is the opposite of Depravity. Depravity is false freedom. A poison dart shot from the shadows. A retreat that seems like an advance. An attack that is really only a shield. Depravity is dissimulation; courage is authenticity. Courage has no image of itself. It is trailblazing. It has no path before it. Its only trace is the wake it leaves behind.

EPILOGUE SEVEN THESES ON AESTHETHICS 1.

Black Metal represents the self-overcoming of Counterculture and the rise of Aesthethics.

2.

The Aesthethic could be a third modality of art alongside the comic and the tragic. Neither saccharine nor ironic, concerned neither with ineffable truth nor the all-too-obvious. It would be a directly neural art fostering joy, health, resonance, awakening, transfiguration and courage.

3.

The Aesthethic is aesthetic, ascetic and ethical.

4.

The ancients identified the True, the Good and the Beautiful. After the dust settles, and the work of modernity and postmodernity is done, and the divisions between high culture, mass culture and counterculture have been obliterated, what is left? A single, shining Culture which is True, Good, and Beautiful.

5.

In the age of information culture has traveled down from the superstructure into the base. Stripped of coercive power long ago, culture has now been granted unprecedented economic force, which enhances its spiritual power, power over minds and hearts. The question remains of what its function should be.

6.

The murder of Euronymous by Varg Vikernes appears as the founding gesture of the tradition of black metal. In fact, it is a mere origin myth, foreclosing the real founding gesture. The real gesture, though it is less notorious, is the suicide of Dead. Compare Cobain “I betrayed the counterculture” to Dead, “I betrayed myself to the counterculture”. Dead’s death secretly inaugurates the birth of black metal and the death of counterculture as such. Just as the absence of Dead’s voice haunts De Mysteriis, so Attila’s recent return to Mayhem signifies that we are ready to explore the implications of Dead’s suicide.

7.

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Aesthethics is a resurrection of the aura and an affirmation of the power of meaning to mean.

At Carleton, whether I am talking to someone I recently met or am mingling at a party on the weekend, the topic of favorite music genres tends to come up in conversation. At first, when people asked me what my favorite genre was, I would reply with, “Oh, you know, a lot of things, but mostly I like indie, rock, pop, anything really.” To which people would ask, “Oh yeah? Like Top 40?” and I would respond, “Oh yeah absolutely,” only to receive an eye roll. More recently, however, I have begun to respond with, “Oh, you know, a lot of things.

Indie, rock—oh, and I’m a sucker for Top 40,” to which most people would respond, “Oh yeah, me too! Like, it’s so bad, but it’s so fun!” After ruminating on my music interests, I’ve realized that this is frustrating. There is a negative connotation when someone declares that they’re a fan of Top 40 or even pop in general, which is, frankly, bullshit.

“I’ve noticed that there’s an association between pop-lovers and musically ignorant people” I’ve noticed that there’s an association between pop-lovers and musically ignorant people. Essentially, Oh you like pop or Top 40?

You must not have been exposed to the other types music out there. If you have done this

consciously or subconsciously—which I admit, I have done in the past—stop. Music is one of the most subjective areas, and assuming intelligence based on musical preference is not healthy. Take me, for example. I consider myself pretty musically aware—I play the piano, I’m a member of the Knightingales, I grew up surrounded by music as my dad is a jazz arranger and composer—and I fucking love Top 40. I’m a huge fan of it, but I’m also a huge fan of alternative music, classical music, movie soundtracks, etc. Just because I tell you that I love Top 40 does not give you the right to assume I don’t have great taste in music.

It’s also important to note that it’s called Top 40 for a reason: it’s popular. A lot of people like it. So why are people’s music taste considered bad if they like music a lot of other people like? One reason behind this may be that a lot of Top 40 music is pop (not just popular, the genre, pop). Pop has a reputation for being, well, not so great. And a lot of it isn’t great.

But you can make that claim about any genre.

There’s a lot of shitty rap, country, alternative, jazz, you name it. What I like about Top 40 is that is spreads over a couple genres: predominantly pop, but also rap, hip-hop, funk, country, singer-songwriter. And the stuff that makes it to the Top 40 is what a lot of listeners like to listen to. Don’t like Top 40? Cool. Don’t listen to it. But also don’t give me shit for listening to it.

THE TAKEAWAY: Be confident in your musical interests. If you love something that might have a bad reputation, that’s ok. Enjoy it.

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You may not be young and sweet or only seventeen, but don’t let that stop you! Get weird at your next party/dance/concert with these moves inspired by musicians and internet memes:

~The Lana del Rey Twirl~ Dramatic and great for slower moments and sad music, this one comes from Lana del Rey’s infamously bad SNL performance. Lean left, then dip your left shoulder down as you pivot counter-clockwise. Turn 180 degrees. Pause. Repeat. Keep your arms down and at your sides.

Best done with your head and eyes turned down toward the floor like you are a “Sad Girl.” Bonus points if you are in a white dress.

~Thom Yorke’s “Not the Bees!”~ Another dance that became a beloved meme, “Not the Bees!” comes from the video for Radiohead’s “Lotus Flower,” in which Yorke moves in all sorts of funky ways while wearing a black bowler hat. The trick is to pretend you are surrounded by a swarm of bees. Actually, maybe don’t. That sounds terrifying. Step 1: Close your eyes. Step 2: Wildly shake and flail your arms.

~La Glace à Yelle~ Have you ever tried to dance like food? Perfect for waiting in line for Saturday Sundaes, this one’s real sweet. Pretend that you are soft-serve ice cream. Step 1: With both hands together above your head as the tip, snake your arms around from top to bottom, mimicking those soft-serve curves.

Step 2: Hop 90 degrees to the right. Repeat. Keep going around in a circle, getting as weird and wiggly as you want. After a while, you can melt into a puddle on the floor. You can find more moves inspired by everyday objects in a series of videos that Yelle did for Reebok Everyday Club.

~Pussy Riot Punch~ This one is for when you’re really angry/really hyped. Great to punk or any music that makes you want to jump. Step 1: Jump up. Step 2: Throw an exaggerated punch downward with one hand, pulling the other back to your chest. Punch with your whole body, like you’re punching the Patriarchy in the dick. Repeat. Even better in a neon balaclava.

~M.I.A.’s “Step On the Cockroach”~ Once upon a time, M.I.A. had a guest spot teaching dance moves on a wacko kids’ show called Pancake Mountain. She teaches a bunch of 5- to 8-year-olds how to “Step On the Cockroach”—swing one leg forward and stomp your foot down as if you are crushing a cockroach. As you swing your leg out, swing both arms out. Swing your leg and both your arms back in. Alternate between stepping on the cockroach with your right and left feet. Optional: get Twist-like and really smush that cockroach. Make an “Ewww” face or look generally grossed out because cockroaches are nasty.

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Five Essential South American Psychedelic Rock Albums

By Ian Mercer

Several years ago, while bored during a high school summer vacation, I was surfing through the histories of my favorite musicians’ Twitter accounts. With Grizzly Bear being my favorite band at the time, my course inevitably took me to the page of Daniel Rossen (their fantastic guitarist).

Near the beginning of his Twitter career, he’d posted a YouTube link to a Brazilian track called “Trem de Doido” by Clube Da Esquina. Since Rossen is one of my favorite guitarists, singers, and lyricists of all time, I took his musical recommendation quite seriously. I listened to the track. I listened to it again.

All of a sudden, years had passed and I was still listening to the track. It’s a marvelous piece of work, and it sent me down a rabbit hole of late ‘60s and early ‘70’s Brazilian and Argentinian rock music that I’d love to share with you herein.

These following albums are all quite long, but most of them consist of dozens of tracks that are all no more than three minutes long. It’s pretty easy to fathom what a lot of these tracks sound like before you listen. Imagine the music that a band would make if it formed in 1967 in Buenos Aires after falling in love with, and attempting to emulate the sound of, The Beatles. It’s a truly wonderful brand of music in that it combines common pop melodies and song structures with brilliant Latin and Brazilian harmonies.

Clube Da Esquina – Clube da Esquina (1972, EMI)

This is the most famous and influential of any of the albums that will be mentioned here. “Clube da esquina” translates to “corner club,” and once you’ve listened, the meaning behind the name couldn’t be any clearer. It’s so easy to imagine bandleader Milton Nascimento and all of his friends settling down at a table on a ‘60s Belo Horizonte corner and just letting in all of the musical culture that passed them by. Clube da Esquina is the Brazilian equivalent of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band in that it pulls a disparate array of musical genres together into one cohesive whole. Bossa nova, jazz, classic rock, American folk, Hispanic, and classical contributions are all present (just to name a few).

Seriously, just listen to “O Trem Azul” and “Nada Será Como Antes” back to back and you’ll be able to see the diversity that Clube da Esquina offers.

On the vocal front, Milton Nascimento delivers earth-shattering performances. His nimble, full-bodied voice is heaven to my ears. The wide range and unorthodox melodic choices lend a power to his ability that few vocalists have matched in my listening experience. Most notably, he is an absolute expert when it comes to allocating the right amount of dissonance. For example, that final cadence of “Os Povos” might just be the best blue note that I’ve ever heard.

While Milton might be the star front man and lead vocalist, my favorite element of the band comes from the band’s main guitarist, Lô Borges. His exceptional ability is apparent from the very beginning of the whole album, when Lô crafts an ascending guitar chord progression that gives me frisson every time.

His style is hyper-malleable, spanning from passionate strumming to smooth jazz tones to “21st Century Schizoid Man”-style shrieking guitar fuzz.

Despite my tone thus far, Clube da Esquina isn’t perfect. There are a few tracks that completely miss (the strange “Saídas E Bandeiras” suite irks me every time) and a slow cooker (“Cais”) that should’ve been relegated to bonus track status, (especially when considering the fact that this album is already well over sixty minutes long).

In the end, none of this previous criticism matters (both positive and negative), because of the track “Clube da Esquina 2.” Words can’t describe it. You need to listen to it. If every other track on the album were absolutely worthless, it would still be a great project because of the presence of this track.

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Milton Nascimento - Clube da Esquina 2 (1978, EMI)

I’ve got a 3-step process for you. Step 1: take everything positive that I said in the previous review about Clube da Esquina and multiply it by 10. Step 2: take out everything negative that I said about Clube da Esquina and remove it entirely from your mind. Step 3: consider what’s left and you’ll be witnessing what I think of Clube da Esquina 2. It’s a marvel of the 20th century.

If all you knew was the context, it’s possible that this album could’ve been horrendous. After all, Milton had ditched several of his strongest collaborators from the previous project, and he’d made 10 albums in the last 9 years. You’d think that his creativity would’ve run out, but then he defied all odds with the release of this masterpiece.

It’s the only double-album that isn’t too long for my taste. There isn’t an excessive track or out-ofplace note throughout the 90-minute runtime, feats that are especially impressive considering the sheer density of the album. Take “Pão E Água” for example; it’s got some of the hardest working rhythm players, most acrobatic guitars, and most difficult vocal harmonies, but the virtuosity (in songwriting, production, and performance) keeps the track totally pristine. The same goes for “O Que Foi Feito Devera / O Que Foi Feito De Vera,” which is a stunning centerpiece among centerpieces.

Seriously, the twenty-three tracks that make up Clube da Esquina 2 will be some of my favorites until the day I die. The album is flawless, which I know is hard to believe when you take its length (twenty-three tracks!) into account. Clear your afternoon schedule, sit back, and let Milton swaddle your soul with the aloe vera of his voice.

Lô Borges - Lô Borges (1972, EMI) If you felt sad for Lô Borges when you heard that Nascimento didn’t ask him to come back and collaborate on CdE2, I’ve got good news for you: his first solo project away from The Corner Club was also fantastic.

Lô Borges (yes, another eponymous album) is quite similar to both of the CdE albums, but it comes in at a much more manageable size (30 minutes) and features Lô’s fantastic guitar work at the forefront of each and every track. It has a comparable hit/miss rate to Clube da Esquina, but when it does hit, it hits big.

For example, while assembling a list of tracks that I love from this album, I realized I’d included a third of the compositions as my “favorites” (if you’re curious, the list runs as follows: “O Caçador,” “Pensa Você,” “Calibre,” “Faça Seu Jogo,” “Eu Sou Como Você É,” and “Tôda Essa Água”).

Since I’m pressed for space here, I’ll only give explicit comments on one track: “Como O Machado.”

It’s a track that hits me in a very subtle, hidden part of my soul. It makes me feel all warm inside while making me wish I were at home cuddling with my beloved cat. It’s only 1:45 long, but the yearning vocal harmonies, dissonant melodic line, and heavenly guitar harmonies make me feel as if I’ve spent an eternity within their folds. It’s serene and soulful, and I know that there is some far-off day where I’m in an old folks home when I hear this track for the first time in decades and shed a tear for the long-gone days of my youth.

Anyways, Lô Borges holds its own against CdE2 and more than meets the challenge of CdE – it’s just a shame that fodder like “Não Foi Nada” made the cut, because when Lô Borges misses, it misses hard.

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Almendra – Almendra (1969, RCA Vik) It’s unfair to spend the last 1300 words talking about The Corner Club as if they were the only notable band from South America in the last fifty years. I could go on and on about Milton’s forty-odd albums, but it’s time to give another band a shot.

Almendra (hailing from Argentina) released their most striking music a couple of years before The Corner Club swung into action. They harbor a distinct Rock & Roll sound that is akin to Piper at the Gates of Dawn-era Pink Floyd or “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)”-style Beatles. They are decidedly more psychedelic than their contemporaries, and their songs range from three to fifteen minutes instead of the usual 0.5 to five.

Often hailed as the most influential Argentinian rock album of all time, Almendra’s debut Almendra (yep, ANOTHER eponymous debut) is a trippy counterpoint to the folksier vibe that typifies popular Argentinian music from the standard USA perspective. The two best tracks on the album are easily “Color humano” and “A estos hombres tristes.” The former is a 9-minute jam session that swirls through gyrating vortices of guitar fuzz, while the latter exhibits a bass line that is like nothing I’ve ever heard before. This is the kind of music that I can imagine David Longstreth really enjoying in his free time.

Almendra are decidedly better at playing rock music than anybody else in this article. They lack the delicacy and flexibility (and studio budget) of their Brazilian counterparts but more than make up for their technical ability with smart, utilitarian songwriting and hearty vocal harmonies.

Almendra – Almendra 2 (1970, RCA Vik)

Just one year later, Almendra released their follow-up double-album, Almendra 2. (Don’t ask my why all of these albums are self-titled… I really have no clue). I imagine it as a seamless continuation of the first album. Seriously, you can queue the second project so that it will begin playing directly after the first, resulting in a glorious triple album.

Almendra 2 demonstrates far superior production ability and further fleshed-out song structures. “Aire de amor” and “Mestizo” are straight up bangers that jam bands have been trying to equal for the last three decades. I somehow never tire of the fifteen-minute runtime of “Agnus dei” and the riffs of “Florecen los nardos” that sound just like Yes in their wonder years.

There’s a healthy amount of genre experimentation in Almendra 2 that keeps it exciting without descending into chaos. “Amor de aire” could be a New Orleans blues track if it weren’t sung in Spanish, while “Un pájaro te sostiene” has a drumbeat that could’ve been laid down by John Bonham if it were just a bit higher in the mix.

In the end, I prefer Almendra over Almendra 2 simply because of its shorter runtime (again, I’m just not a fan of double albums in general) and because of the presence of “A estos hombres tristes,” which is my favorite Argentinian track ever (Rock or otherwise).

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Concluding Thoughts There you have it: Five Latin and Brazilian albums that are criminally underappreciated in the USA. These are all hits in their respective countries, but never seem to come up in conversation, especially here at Carleton. If you are too busy (or lazy) to listen to any of these albums in full, I’ve included 2 resources below for you to be able to abbreviate your listening experience until it’s tailored to your schedule.

Warning: these albums can be hard to track down, but I highly recommend that you put some time into seeking them out. (You can always ask to borrow my copies of the CDs if you have no luck.)

To close, I have just one request: if you happen to import the files into your iTunes account, be sure to change the genre tag from “World” to “Rock” or “Pop” or whatever you want that isn’t “World!” It’s a travesty that any music that isn’t from a predominantly white country is considered to be “World” music.

What does that even mean?!

Appendix Was too much music mentioned here? Do you not know where to start? Here, let me guide you: Start with CdE2 Like the Sgt. Pepper’s stuff? Go to CdE1

Like the subtler guitar work? Go to Lô Borges

Like the Rock & Roll? Go to Almendra 1

Need more of that? Go to Almendra 2

1. TL;DR? Here are 6 tracks by these artists that you must hear if you don’t have several hours to set aside: Lô Borges: “Eu Sou Como Vocé É” and “Como O Machado”

Clube da Esquina: “Trem de Doido” and “Pão E Água”

Almendra: “Color humano” and “A estos hombres tristes”

2. TL;DR the TL;DR? Listen to “Trem De Doido” off of Clube da Esquina.

3. A Note on Names There are 2 examples of “Clube da Esquina” and 2 examples of “Clube da Esquina 2” in this article.

It can get a little confusing, so here’s a handy guide to help you find your way.

Clube da Esquina: one is the name of a band and the other is the name of that band’s first album.

Clube da Esquina 2: one is the name of a track on Clube Da Esquina and the other is the name of an

album by Milton Nascimento that was released 8 years later.

All clear? That’s what I thought.

FIVE RAPPERS U SLEPT ON

By Matt Javaly

A lot of shade has been thrown on 2014 with respect to the quality (and quantity) of music output, and most of 2015’s hype has surrounded big-name artists who sat out 2014 in hopes of blowing up this year. But what about those who weren’t on the bench last year? Out of respect for the come-up, here’s a short list of rappers you’ve probably been sleeping on.

ISAIAH RASHAD Age: 23 / Origin: Chattanooga, TN Label: TDE / Best Tracks: “West Savannah,” “Banana” Believe it or not, 2014 actually looked salvagable when Cilvia Demo dropped in late January.

Despite the label of “EP,” the tape has more insight and better flows than most of the other major-label releases in recent memory. The combination of Rashad’s confidence and relaxed demeanor allow him to deliver personal couplets like, “And if I give my story to the world / I wonder if they book me for a show” in a conversational tone (“Heavenly Father”). His success is in part due to the label itself; Top Dawg Entertainment boasts one of hip hop’s deepest rosters, and what’s more, they’re independent, which prevents much of the bureaucratic interference with the creative process. Talking to Complex last month about ScHoolboy Q’s effect on his music, Rashad remarked, “[H]e showed me that it is more about the showman than the sounds behind it. He showed me how to be an entertainer.” Let’s see if he can’t make 2015 a bit more entertaining… and wake you up in the process.

VINCE STAPLES Age: 21 / Origin: Long Beach, CA Label: Def Jam / Best Tracks: “Blue Suede,” “Nate”

“With so much drama in the L-B-C, it’s kinda hard bein’ Snoop D-O-double-G” - Snoop Doggy Dogg, “Gin and Juice” (1993). And over twenty years later, the drama in Long Beach ensues. In the face of such adversity, Snoop Dogg had the advantage of a honey-dipped voice capable of rap in double and triple-time without stopping for breath, and ballet-dancing around Dr. Dre’s G-funk beats was the ideal distraction from the glaring social issues plaguing Southern California. Fortunately for music fans, Vince Staples does not have such a luxury. His voice is not smooth, and he lacks the carefree charm of Doggystyle-era Snoop. The leadoff track on 2014’s Hell Can Wait EP, “Fire”, makes clear that he will not attempt to glorify his life: “Believe that, we was thuggin’ on the back streets / Catchin’ cases, probably finna go to Hell anyway,” he groans, while the 808 kicks. His scope is wide enough to cover police racism (“Hands Up”) and doomed relationships (“Limos”), but he never loses himself and his bitterly sarcastic attitude. Additionally, the dark, bass-heavy sound in Staples’ music is representative of an important shift in the hip hop landscape. 2014’s most critically acclaimed rap album, Run The Jewels 2, was a massive political statement with much disdain and little approval. So get your hand off the snooze button?

MICK JENKINS

Age: 23 / Origin: Chicago, IL

Label: Cinematic Music Group / Best Tracks: “Jazz,” “514”

Chicago’s hip-hop scene is amorphous, to say the least. While Vic Mensa and Chance The Rapper persuade you to Save Money, Chief Keef tries to physically count the amount of automatic guns he owns, and Kanye West has made the conscious decision to raise his family in Los Angeles, CA (“last winter she got so cold on me”…okay, I’ll stop). So Mick Jenkins’ decision to sign with the New York-based Cinematic Music Group should be seen as less of a departure from his roots and more of a diversification of his

palette. His 2014 project, The Water[s], immediately became the label’s best output in over a year, and did a number on DatPiff’s bandwith as well (what’s 50,000 downloads to a rapper with little to no hype?). The mixtape contains innumerable references to water, within which Jenkins finds much stimuli. In “Comfortable” he floats in it (“Got your joint, it’s in rotation, check the syncopation / Deep off in these waters never needing no flotation”), but in “Drink More Water” he just sips it (“Will these niggas let me sip my ginger ale? You can tell that I’m parched / On point like a dart / Or a pen with a ball, don’t start / I can tell that you aren’t“).

What’s impressive here is his ability to create a liquid world where he can really thrive, and spit quality bars in his clean baritone. A microcosm of this ability to simultaneously create and adapt is mixtape stunner “Jazz,” which finds Jenkins making various allusions to famous jazz musicians (“Makeovers help niggas make money / But I’mma always just talk that James Moody / Most rappers these days is actors and I can’t keep watching the same movie”) while comparing the advice he receives to the truth. He explodes at the fakers, and then collects himself to talk his own jazz. Too bad you were napping.

RICH HOMIE QUAN Age: 25 / Origin: Atlanta, GA

Label: T.I.G. Entertainment / Best Tracks: “I Know It,” “Type of Way” The ironic part about this entry is that Rich Homie Quan’s only 2014 output came with Rich Gang alongside rapper Young Thug and Birdman, and he recently announced that he was leaving the group.

The character of the group’s 2014 mixtape, Rich Gang: Tha Tour Part 1, is much defined by Young Thug, but his irreverent yawps and nonsequiturs are grounded by Rich Homie’s verses and hooks. Thug says, “Baby girl spoiled and she spoilder than milk / And I’mma keep her on my side like a fuckin’ hip,” but RHQ says “Somethin’ about lil shawty that I can’t put my finger on / It’s somethin’ about lil shawty, she rather text, she don’t be on phones” (“Tell Em [Lies]”). He uses this ability not only to make the most ridiculous lines relatable, but also to make the most rough subject matter sound so smooth: “Me when I’m coming full speed, that V12 runnin’ / And I’mma jump the fence if I see 12 comin’ / Even if I were blind I could still smell money” (“Walk Thru”).

This is also an example of Rich Homie’s advantage of being able to both sing and rap in several flows, as he will often croon at the end of a line for emphasis. This recalls a (failed) attempt by another Birdman protege to begin a singing career, which is not to compare Rich Homie Quan to Lil Wayne in his prime but rather to see his potential in its entirety. Birdman has nothing if not his eye for talent, and he seems to believe in Rich Homie Quan, even if he won’t be joining Cash Money. The future is bright for the Atlanta upstart, and your new alarm clock plays “Type of Way.”

LIL WAYNE Age: 32 / Origin: New Orleans, LA Label: Cash Money / Best Tracks: “Believe Me,” “D’usse” Lil Wayne shouldn’t be on this list, but not for the reason you’re thinking. He spent 2014 promoting an album his label won’t release, which is why, of all the up-and-coming, low-hype spitters on this list, Weezy is the most likely to sign elsewhere in 2015. That will have to wait until after his $8M lawsuit against Cash Money, a debacle which all but swallowed the media coverage of Tha Carter V’s promotional singles.

Don’t get confused though; you’re not sleeping on Wayne because of marketing issues…you’re sleeping on Wayne because it’s the easy fucking thing to do. After a few years of sloppy output followed by an even sloppier fallout with Cash Money, counting him out seems logical. It’s true that the quality of his music declined heavily between 2009 and 2013, but mid-2014 found immense promise for Weezy. Rapping with a newfound intensity and a familiar charisma, the twenty-three-year (signed to Cash Money at age nine) veteran released several tracks considered to be his best in recent memory. “Now I’m riding ‘round the city with the top off the Maaaybach / Lookin’ for a motherfuckin’ spot we can skaaate at,” he exclaims in “D’usse,” with soul reminiscent of Tha Carter III. To be clear, 2008-era Lil Wayne is not coming back, nor should it. There is room within the growing genre of “adult rap” for Wayne, and he should exploit this. He’s thirty-two, and at this point he has more in common with Kanye West and Danny Brown than with the young guys he frequently collaborates with (I’m looking at you, Drake). Regardless, barring any setbacks from his upcoming lawsuit, he has the potential and the creative space for his eleventh and (supposedly) final album to be something special. I can’t help but remember “A Milli:” “Who that said they gon beat Lil Wayne?”

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Staff Playlist: The Weitz Center Atrium Starting now, each isssue of NoFi will contain a staff-curated playlist that abides by a certain theme. This time around, it’s the sun-drenched expanses of the Weitz atrium. So find your favorite orange couch, sit back, and enjoy the tunes.

Cisco Hayward David DeMark Paco Alvarez James Ferraro All Natural Lemon and Lime Flavors Ted Leo and the Pharmacists “Global Lunch” “Paradigm Somehow” “The Toro and the Toreador”

All of these tracks can be found on our 8tracks.com playlist. Check our Facebook page for the link!

Cyrus Deloye Matt Javaly Alex Adamczyk Alex Tippett Radiohead Lauryn Hill SOHN Broken Social Scene “Kid A” “Doo-Wop (That Thing)” “The Wheel” “Love and Mathematics” Lily Eisenthal Grimes “Vanessa”

Bob Otsuka Jerry Martin “Magic City”

Julian Palmer Purity Ring “Odebear”

Ben Wedin Madeline Garcia The Field Fox Academy “Is This Power” “Salem”

A Noah Harrison Bobby Volpendesta Henry Southwick Sylvie Graubard Talk Talk Hurray for the Riff Raff Brian Eno John Mayer “The Rainbow” “French Catalogues” “Why Georgia” “Little Black Star”

The Top Ten Most Sensitive Drake Lines Compiled, with Annotations, by Peter Centner

1. “You can be whoever you want, even yourself.”

From “Connect” When you’re Drake, sometimes the scariest thing is just to be Drake 2. “Sweatpants hair tied chillin’ with no make up on / that’s when you’re the prettiest / I hope that you don’t take it wrong” From “Best I Ever Had” Drake thinks you’re beautiful even without all that makeup and those fancy clothes, girl 3. “‘Cause you got a past and I do too / we’re perfect for each other.”

From “The Real Her” Drake doesn’t care about your past. Drake understands.

4. “I got my eyes on you / you’re everything that I see / I want your hot love and emotion endlessly.”

From “Hold On, Were Going Home” You’re all that Drake sees, girl / Drake has very poor peripheral vision, girl.

5. “How beautiful our kids would be / girl, I don’t need convincing.”

From “Connect” Who can say no to having beautiful Drake babies. Not you. Not anyone.

6. “Next time we fuck, I don’t wanna fuck, I wanna make love / Next time we talk, I don’t wanna just talk, I wanna trust.”

From “Own It” All the girls wanna “trust” with Drake after his shows.

7. “Cause I hate sleeping alone, I hate sleeping alone / Half the time we don’t end up fucking, I don’t ask her for nothing.”

From “Hate Sleeping Alone” Drake doesn’t just think about sex. Sometimes he just wants to cuddle and talk, girl.

8. “She just wanna run over my feelings / like she drinking and driving in an 18 wheeler / and I’d allow her, talk about pussy power.”

From “Connect” Damn, Drake. Are your feelings okay? Don’t let her do that to you.

9. “You won’t feel me until everybody say they love you, but it’s not love.”

From “The Ride” Why can’t Drake just find someone who loves him for the sensitive man he is. No one understands…

10. “You won’t ever have to worry, you won’t ever have to hide / you’ve seen all my mistakes, so look me in my eyes.”

From “Take Care” One look in Drake’s eyes and you’re already gone 33