album review: 'behind the light' by phillip phillips

So as I’ve mentioned a few times, I don’t really watch reality TV. Part of it is a factor of me not owning a TV and getting anything I’d want to watch online, but partially because most of the reality singing competitions just don’t really interest me. I mean, American Idol might have been a big deal about a decade ago, but you can’t say it is in the same way now.

Or can you? The late-period American Idol winners haven’t been all that bad upon closer examination. After all, I liked more of Scotty McCreery’s sophomore album than I was expecting, even so far as naming ‘Feel Good Summer Song’ as one of my favourite tracks of 2013. But of the late-period winners from that show, the one that really struck my attention was Phillip Phillips, a folk singer-songwriter who stepped up to the plate with a lot more character and personality than you normally see in reality show winners. And his debut album was surprisingly strong in that regard, bucking the trend of Idol winners delivering flavourless garbage on their debut record in order to maintain as much of their Idol audience as possible.

Now that’s not saying that album was flawless. Plenty of critics made the Dave Matthews Band comparison, and that’s not without merit, especially considering the frontman with solid acoustic guitar skills and a grittier voice singing about artfully crafted, if broadly sketched subject matter. For me, his production was a little cleaner than I’d normally like to see in folk rock, and there were definitely moments of clumsiness in his songwriting that stood out. But then again, the guy was also younger than me, the album was rushed together in two months, and it was his debut record, so I was willing to be forgiving here. And coming into his sophomore album Behind The Light, I wondered if Phillips might stand out a little better now that the brief folk rock revival of late 2012 had petered out. So I gave the album a couple listens – how did it go?

video review: 'just as i am' by brantley gilbert

God, this review. Fourteen takes, multiple reshoots, and a failed upload to boot. What should have taken two hours took seven.

Next up... bleh, too tired. We'll see.

album review: 'just as i am' by brantley gilbert

I've been looking forward to doing this review for weeks now.

Because sometimes you just know, when you sit down to write one of these things that you've got a record in your sights that will give you plenty of material with which to talk about. An album from an artist that I actually tolerated when I got back into mainstream country without really liking him. An album that from its opening single heralded something that sent a quiver of anticipation down my spine.

Not from the expectation that the album was going to be any good, mind you. Brantley Gilbert may have showed up in the country rock scene before bro-country took hold, but he bears the worst parts of the archetype, a sneering douchebag who traded in alpha male machismo and southern pandering in the cheapest way possible. I appreciate that he has the main writing credits on all of his material, because it made his songwriting much easier to castigate as the grabbag of formless country cliches that it was, especially on that last album. And speaking as both a country fan and a metalhead, I was never really impressed by his brand of country rock, which always felt too sterile and compromised to really fill in the gap between the two genres in a way like Whiskey Myers or Hank Williams III do easily. In fact, an easy comparison from his brand of self-serious, minor-key saturated post-grunge inspired country rock is Nickelback, but even if you don't like Chad Kroeger or his howl of a voice, you can at least admit he can sing and has real stage presence. Brantley Gilbert, on the other hand, has a delivery so flat and disaffected that I got nothing but smug obnoxiousness from his presentation. 

So yeah, I was looking forward to Just As I Am by Brantley Gilbert - in the same way I've been looking forward to Chris Brown's perpetually delayed album, and that is to give it the righteous thrashing it deserves. And off of the basis of 'Bottoms Up', an early front-runner to one of the worst hit songs of 2014, and the noted collaboration with Thomas Rhett and Justin Moore, I expected this album to blow and went in with zero expectations. Did Brantley Gilbert manage to surprise me?

Well, he did – because this album honestly isn’t as terrible as I was expecting. I went in expecting a disaster, and as much as I’d like to continue with my established idea and slam the album regardless, I can’t, in good conscience, admit that’s the case. So yeah, I was wrong, Brantley Gilbert’s Just As I Am isn’t really that bad at all. In fact, it’s actually quite passable, let down by a terrible lead-off single and an image of douchebaggery that Brantley Gilbert has cultivated, likely to his own detriment. Now that’s not saying this album is anything close to great, or even is all that good, but call it the benefit of lowered expectations because I can’t really hate this record.

Let’s start with the instrumentation – and honestly, it’s no-frills country rock: power chords, solid basslines and decent melodies, and enough distortion to rock but not too much to jump into metal. And yeah, the guitars have less texture than I’d prefer and the solos are not impressive, but to Gilbert’s credit, he does steer clear of the majority of bad musical gimmicks you normally see in bro-country. There are no electronic effects or unnecessary autotune, there are no attempts to have a rapping cadence, and there are even elements of organ and gospel that harken more to blues-inspired hard rock in the Whitesnake vein than post-grunge, which I definitely liked. That’s not saying all the melodies are stellar – I’m fairly certain ’17 Again’ took its opening riff from Our Lady Peace’s hit ‘Somewhere Out There’ – but the guitar tones are richer and the guitar-driven hooks are memorable enough, especially from ‘My Baby’s Guns ‘N Roses’ and ‘Lights Of My Hometown’. Now make no mistake, ‘Bottoms Up’ is still an atrocious song: the guitar tone feels jacked from bad down-tuned nu metal and the sullen melody line does not fit in the slightest with the bro-country party lyrics. It’s telling that there are songs like ‘Lights Of My Hometown’ and the Thomas Rhett and Justin Moore collaboration ‘Small Town Throwdown’ that execute a similar style a fair bit better. And yeah, ‘Small Town Throwdown’ is leering and stupid and painfully recycled, but it’s a better brand of it, mostly because the instrumentation has some sleazy grime, Justin Moore only gets one verse and Thomas Rhett is confined to occasional snippets, and Brantley Gilbert is significantly more convincing as a bro asshole than the lot of them, and he gets a certain grudging respect from me for that.

In fact, that might be one of the main factors that makes Brantley Gilbert at least marginally more tolerable in my eyes: he might be a swaggering alpha male, but he’s at least convincing and sincere in that role and doesn’t play up the obnoxiousness. Yeah, ‘If You Want A Bad Boy’ might play in the same field as most bro-country, but it’s at least got enough self-awareness to question whether or not the sweet girl really wants to follow his path. It does help to make songs like ‘My Baby’s Guns ‘N Roses’ slightly more believable, and I’ll give Gilbert credit for cramming that song full of as many references to that act as he possibly can. And while I might not like the flag-waving jingoism in ‘One Hell of An Amen’, the uber-patriotism is downplayed in favour of talking about how a man should face death and his God, and on a certain level, I definitely respect that. And since I’m not one to disrespect a man’s faith, I can definitely appreciate the sentiment behind ‘My Faith In You’, where Gilbert worries about how he’d react if he lost his faith. Now granted, I don’t think the dramatic stakes of the song are anywhere near as strong as, say, Dierks Bentley’s crisis of faith on ‘Here On Earth’, but Gilbert does his best to sell it.

That sincerity might be Gilbert’s biggest strength as a performer, and it makes the two best songs of the album, ‘That Was Us’ and ‘Let It Ride’, stand out a fair bit. ‘That Was Us’ is a song about old times and reconnecting with old friends, and it’s at least honest enough to capture elements like the big talk and special bond some bros have. And ‘Let It Ride’ is as good of a ‘love’ song as you’d find on this album, with Gilbert’s hesitation in the second verse when she wants a commitment before swearing to be true really coming across as sincere and kind of earned to me – it worked. That said, the other ‘relationship’ focused song on this record is ‘I’m Gone’ and is directed at ex-girlfriend and fellow country singer Jana Kramer. And while I don’t really like the song, I’ll give him some credit for marginally fair framing and not engaging in wishy-washy nonsense in the hopes of leading her on.

And then I started wondering, I’m giving this album a lot more credit and being a lot more fair to it than even I expected, so is there a possibility that I might end up liking this album? Because if I’m being honest, this album calls back to a lot of the shallow hard rock I love, and it’s self-aware enough to fit that role well – so why isn’t it clicking in the same way? Well, it all comes back to Brantley Gilbert himself: because like it or not, Gilbert isn’t Axl Rose and his vocals are easily the biggest strike against this album, at least for me. Now I get why he’s singing like this: having a grimy rasp is likely considered ‘cooler’ and more appropriate for his swaggering bro ‘bad boy’ image, and I don’t deny it has texture – but speaking as a singer, what it also does is painfully limit his vocal range and hurt him when he’s trying to come across as more emotional or sincere. I’m not saying he doesn’t try – I can tell he’s trying to emote more than his delivery allows, and I’ll give him credit for that – but his voice does very little for me, and it doesn’t help when he references hard rock tropes that get me thinking about better singers.

So in the end… you know, I really didn’t think I’d be in this position, but I’m seriously debating whether or not to recommend this album. The melodies and hooks are well done, but the solos and texture were seriously lacking. The lyrics aren’t especially creative and they can get pretty meat-headed, but their sincerity and occasional flashes of nuance and wordplay show promising signs of a better songwriter. And Gilbert’s vocals might not be my thing, but you can tell he’s pushing his range and he’s at least aware of his limits and what this record set out to be. So here’s what I’ll do: I’m giving this album a strong 5/10, but if you’re more of a fan of Brantley Gilbert’s vocals and they don’t bother you as much as they do me, check this album out. Yeah, it’s bro-country rock in every sense of the word, and I won’t call it even the best in this subgenre, but it’s a purer brand of it than most, and I’ve definitely heard worse. After all, the album is titled Just As I Am, and I can’t really deny that it is exactly that.

video review: 'ghost stories' by coldplay

Man, this review was a struggle to write. It just inspired nothing in me whatsoever, and as a Coldplay fan, it's really disappointing.

Next up... honestly, not sure yet. We'll see.

album review: 'ghost stories' by coldplay

I think Coldplay has a worse reputation than they deserve.

Yes, they tend to get lumped into the category of silent majority acts, bands adored by the mainstream but generally viewed outside of the mainstream as making crowd-pleasing pablum, and yes, they've written more than their fair share of broadly sketched, saccharine trifle, and yes, Chris Martin can be a preening, pretentious dick, but when you take a step away from all of that, is Coldplay really all that bad?

Honestly, I don't think so. I'm not going to thrash a band for being accessible if they make good music along the way, and I'd be hard-pressed to deny that Coldplay has written some great melodies and decent lyrics throughout the course of their career. I think part of the issue with Coldplay is the undeserved hype behind them and I remember the push for the band as the next stadium rock act in the vein of U2. But while I can say Coldplay puts on a great show, having seen them live in 2009 when they toured with Snow Patrol, they're playing in a different wheelhouse than a band like U2, in instrumentation and especially in songwriting. 

But around the mid-to-late 2000s, things started to shift with Coldplay. They started working with Markus Dravs and Brian Eno when they released the slightly more experimental Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends, which remains my favourite Coldplay album for amping up their epic scope into something with some actual teeth. They then tried for a concept album with Mylo Xyloto, and while I'm still not really a fan of that record, I do respect the band for sticking with Eno and trying something new. Granted, I couldn't take Chris Martin's bad pretentions behind asinine lyrics remotely seriously, and the autotune was completely unnecessary, I can't really call the album more than just a slight misfire for me.

But when I started hearing the first singles from Coldplay's newest album Ghost Stories, I was immediately worried. Not only did they seem softer and weaker than ever, they seemed to be opting for a drearier, ambient tone, the same sort that's been smothering indie rock like a plague for the past year. In other words, I had nothing but bad feeling about this album going into it: was I wrong?

video review: 'rewind' by rascal flatts

Well, that was worth a good laugh, I can tell you that. Not a good album by a long shot, but man, I needed that burst of humour. Review was a ton of fun to film too.

Next up will be Coldplay - I just need more time to deal with Swans, so be patient, it's coming.

album review: 'rewind' by rascal flatts

I've said before that there was a period in my life where I drifted away from country music. And it wasn't because of any teenage rebellion or any nonsense like that, but there was just a period of time on mainstream country radio where I was getting nothing out of the music. It felt soulless and generic or lacking any sort of genuine emotion or feeling, and it wasn't as if it evoked a response from me other than just apathy. And I hate saying that about a genre I love, but I can't deny the facts that throughout the mid-to-late 2000s, outside of a few artists I couldn't be less interested in country music.

And of the many acts that got huge in that time frame, the band I blame the most was Rascal Flatts. For me, they were always the spiritual successors to Lonestar, in that they performed a lot of soaring, middle-of-the-road pop country and had very limited writing credits on their material. But unlike Lonestar's Richie McDonald with the pipes and passion to back up his material, you had Gary Levox, a singer who delivers his middle-of-the-road pablum with a smile as plastic as his music, and voice that did nothing for me whatsoever. It's telling that Rascal Flatts signed to Big Machine in 2010 and joined in with artists affiliated with Taylor Swift, because at their worst, both acts produce the same sort of utterly empty pop-country with not a hint of texture or depth in sight. 

And thus, I couldn't tell you how much I was dreading a review of this album, especially after the lip-syncing debacle at the American Country Music awards this year and the rumours that their newest album Rewind was an attempt to modernize their sound. And even though I've been reasonable with pop country acts like Keith Urban, Danielle Bradbury, Dan + Shay, and even Hunter Hayes in the past, there was nothing you could tell me that would make me think this album was good. But then that terrible voice in my head that's actively encouraging me to review Brantley Gilbert's upcoming atrocity spoke up and whispered, 'Dude, you can't judge an album fairly until you give it a chance to prove you wrong.' And yeah, that's true, so I picked up Rascal Flatts Rewind over continuing to work through the Swans discography or revisiting Mariah Carey's discography in preparation for her new album or even just relistening to Sturgill Simpson's new record for the dozenth time because that album explodes country awesomeness from every pore. Was Rascal Flatts worth it?

video review: 'turn blue' by the black keys

Well, this was an interesting record to talk about. Once again, not exactly good, but definitely intriguing.

Okay, I'm going to talk about Rascal Flatts, because I listened to the album and hoo boy, this'll be fun...

album review: 'turn blue' by the black keys

If you're a male music fan, there is one statement I can make definitively: over some period of time, either in the past, present, or now, you will be a fan of the Black Keys.

For me, that period of fandom lasted about three weeks in the middle of August 2013. That's not saying I don't like the Black Keys or think they aren't a solid rock band drawing back to the grimy, lo-fi era of garage rock, but my fandom of this act has receded a fair bit over the months the more I've had a chance to reflect on their music. After all, the band's greatest strengths have been their knack for textured, rough-edged melody-driven hooks with a swaggering blues-inspired edge. But here's the thing: the band has long been aware of this advantage, and over the course of seven albums from 2002 to 2011, they milked that advantage as long as they could. Now that's not saying they didn't get some killer songs along the way, but the Black Keys had a formula, and outside of a few stylistic ventures - mostly thanks to Danger Mouse collaborations - they tended to stick to it. And while that formula made for great singles, it didn't exactly make for great album statements. That, combined with the fact the duo has written some pretty obnoxious lyrics - especially when talking about women - did mean that I cooled on the weaker parts of the Black Keys' discography in record time.

And thus when I heard they were planning to switch up their formula with their newest album Turn Blue, I was both intrigued and concerned. I'm all for bands like The Black Keys to experiment, but the opening singles gave me a lot of pause, because not only was the distortion gone, but the synth tone being used seemed really unflattering. A few enterprising critics made a Foster The People comparison, and while I'd disagree somewhat with that assessment, it certainly was a sound far removed from typical Black Keys and not exactly for the better. And thus, I wasn't exactly looking forward to the new album: did I get proven wrong?

video review: 'metamodern sounds in country music' by sturgill simpson

Holy shit, this album is amazing. Man, I needed an album like this, because this record is phenomenal.

Okay, the Black Keys next. Stay tuned!

album review: 'metamodern sounds in country music' by sturgill simpson

So here’s a friendly tip for all of you new music critics out there: if you’re going to start doing a review series like I do and want to make a year-end list of the best albums of the year – as of course you’ll want to do – it’s a very good idea to keep an eye on the genre charts and fellow critics to track albums that you may have missed early in the year. Because trust me on this, you do not want to discover midway through the next year that you might have missed a record that could have had a chance to make that year-end list.

Now granted, it’s damn near impossible to hear every record that gets some manner of acclaim – especially because even aggregators like Metacritic aren’t perfect, especially when you have albums that are removed from the mainstream. And nowhere is this truer than in country music, especially from the independent circuit. And thus, when I put out my year-end list of my top albums of 2013, I got questions why High Top Mountain, the critically acclaimed debut album from Sturgill Simpson, did not make my list. Well, the truth of the matter was that I hadn’t had the chance to listen through it when I made my list, a mistake that I knew had to be rectified as soon as possible.

So now that I’ve heard High Top Mountain, would it have made my year-end list? Well, it would have been damn close, that’s for sure. The album is great across the board, with great raw texture in instrumentation and Simpson’s thick accent, and the songwriting brings the same rich flavor to the table. Most intriguing to me was that through the hazy guitar tones, the album was rooted the psychedelic country tradition, an outgrowth of the hippie-movement throughout the late 60s and 70s. A distinct oddity in an typically conservative genre, Simpson’s socially-conscious lyrics about weed, crime, and unemployment rang all too true in crossing outlaw energy with psychedelic texture, creating a unique album that easily deserved the acclaim it got.

And thus, it wasn’t surprising that country music critics – myself included – were extremely interested in Sturgill Simpson’s follow-up record, Metamodern Sounds in Country Music, a record that promised to be even weirder and more experimental than his last record, something that only enthused me even more. And determined not to miss him twice, I took a look at the album: how did it go?

video review: 'the quantum enigma' by epica

Well, this took a while to decode, but I'm glad I could pull it off.

Next up will probably be Sturgill Simpson and the Black Keys, so stay tuned!

album review: 'the quantum enigma' by epica

I've made the statement in the past that lyrics are often the least important thing in symphonic metal - or at least, for the longest time, they were for me. That's not saying I didn't notice bad lyrics or wasn't aware that some symphonic metal could get unbelievably silly or ridiculous, it's just that I didn't tend to mind as much as long as the instrumentation, production, and delivery were able to deliver that epic sweep on their own.

And if I was looking for a band to violently change my mind on this belief, that band would be Epica, an act that I can only describe as the thinking man's brand of symphonic metal. Now for the longest time, I had had a hard time into Epica, mostly because I found the guitar tone chosen on those early albums a little flat and unflattering and Simone Simons to be a talented singer but not particularly engaging behind the microphone, at least early on. And on top of not having a really immediacy to their hooks, I ignored this band for a long time. 

But man, once I got past that first album and really started digging into their lyrics, colour me wrong about this band. Epica was not only tackling big enough subject matter to match their massive orchestrations, but also was doing it with intellect, due consideration, and a lot of richly articulated nuance. This was a band that routinely explored religion, politics, philosophy, and mortality, and once they had improved their production and picked a heavier guitar tone, I found myself really getting into the band. That's not saying they don't have problems - I would be lying if I didn't say that Epica didn't get preachy every once and a while, and I still think as a band they haven't quite mastered a killer hook like their contemporaries Nightwish and Within Temptation have, but Mark Jensen and Simone Simons remain strong songwriters and performers, and they're only getting better.

And coming after their 2012 album Requiem For The Indifferent - an album demanding the audience engage in the world and be willing to work together to tackle world-shaking problems and not be divided and unwilling to compromise - I was very interested in their newest album, titled The Quantum Enigma. Now, this isn't the first time that Epica has tackled the topic of quantum physics - or rather, the complete failure of certain parts of society to not recognize that brand of science and how they need to evolve, all framed as a philosophical argument in a romantic relationship - so I was definitely wondering how on earth they'd manage to pull this off twice. So I picked up the album and dug in deep - what did I find?

video review: 'glorious' by foxes

Well, I enjoyed this. Can't say that it's a great album or that earns its bombast, but it's still fun.

Next up, Epica. Stay tuned!

album review: 'glorious' by foxes

Now when I made my year-end list for the Top 10 Best Hit Songs of 2013, I always make a point of taking a look at what other critics tend to hold up as their favourites in this category. And while there were certain songs that crossed multiple lists including mine, there was one that I couldn't in good faith put on my list: 'Clarity' by Zedd. Many critics considered it their favourite mainstream EDM song to chart, and I definitely understand why. It had a solid crescendo, a great backing chorus, and lyrics that managed to fit the broad scope of the song. And yet, I was never a big fan of the track in comparison with songs like 'Wake Me Up!' or 'Don't You Worry Child' - I found the beat a little underweight, the synthesizer line a little overstuffed, and the melody not all that impressive.

However, there was one person in that song who did stand out for many people, and that was Foxes, a British pop singer/songwriter whose soulful delivery and careful balance between ethereal distance and raw vulnerability really anchored the song. Now I was more familiar with her from 'Just One Yesterday', a song off of Fall Out Boy's gloriously messy album Save Rock and Roll, and if it wasn't for a few sloppy rhymes in the verses, it would have made one of my other year-end lists simply on atmospheric power and drama alone. And thus, I was interested to see where Foxes would take her debut album Glorious, because to be fair, I didn't have much of a grasp on her musical identity outside of her featuring credits. What was this new album going to deliver?

video review: 'storyline' by hunter hayes

Well, this one came out pretty quickly. Surprisingly so, actually.

In any case, Epica should be next, followed by Foxes while I work my way through Swans' discography for the big week coming up. Stay tuned!

album review: 'storyline' by hunter hayes

So here's an odd question: how much does age matter in music?

On the surface, it shouldn't matter at all. There have been young men and women of prodigious talent who can wow people no matter how old they are - hell, look at Michael Jackson as a member of the Jackson 5. But let's change the question slightly: how much does it matter in country music?

Because like it or not, most country is grounded in more mature subject matter, if not history and tradition. Neotraditional country is rooted in that spirit that tends to demand an older voice to deliver it, because let's face it, most young country stars aren't incredibly interested in the past. But even bro-country acts who just want to talk about trucks, women, and drinking do almost require their audience to at least be old enough to buy beer to at least relate with the situations you describe. As such, you really don't find many teenage stars in country music, especially in comparison with other genres like pop, hip-hop, or punk.

Enter Hunter Hayes, who signed on as a songwriter with incredible talent with Universal in 2008 - when he was seventeen. He got his start touring with Taylor Swift and Rascal Flatts before dropping his solo, self-titled debut album - and I'll admit, I didn't care for it. I thought the production was extremely processed, the songwriting not particularly inspired, and despite his real talent in composition and performance, the album felt interchangeable to me. A few snarkier critics branded him as the country version of Justin Bieber, but given Bieber's musical evolution, that always struck me as unfair. And thus, I vowed to give Hunter Hayes a second chance with his newest album Storyline. How did that go?

video review: 'nikki nack' by tUnE-yArDs

Well, this was an interesting experience. Can't say I'll be revisiting the album, but it was definitely worth exploring.

Next up, either Epica or Hunter Hayes, so stay tuned!

album review: 'nikki nack' by tUnE-yArDs

Let's talk about cultural appropriation.

Now before everyone jumps down my throat, I think defining this in terms of music would be helpful, so here it goes: cultural appropriation means the usage of specific musical elements that can be directly linked to another culture without proper knowledge of their execution or reasoned intent. In other words, if you're going to borrow from other cultures, know what the hell you're doing and do it well. Because believe it or not, I'm not inherently against the embrace of the material from other cultures, as to strictly confine oneself to their own narrowly defined culture can limit musical expression and shuts down the conversation about integrating and blending artistic ideals and expressions.

That said, what people tend not like with cultural appropriation is when the artist uses it to add connotations of exoticism or tribalism or in the worst cases denigrating or incorrect stereotypes associated in the collective western unconscious with that sound. It's one of the issues I've had with Vampire Weekend's usage of African elements: sure, it fits the modern multicultural atmosphere the band has always striven to create, but the underlying defensiveness regarding privilege in their work has always made their usage of these elements a little uncomfortable - which is really frustrating for me because otherwise, I really like their music! This also became an issue with Arcade Fire's most recent album Reflektor, an album that utilized Haitian elements to enhance their inspiration from Black Orpheus, but then overloaded their stage show and revealed in their songwriting a serious misunderstanding of those elements.

And yet when I took a look at tUnE-yArDs' 2011 album whokill, I was pleasantly surprised to see that my fears of cultural appropriation were mostly unfounded, as lead performer Merrill Garbus seemed to be aware of the roots of her material and was trying her best to recreate that brand of pop - and was, for the most part, thanks to her soulful and bold delivery, succeeding. She reminded me on a deeper listen a lot of M.I.A., especially in her patchy lo-fi production, colourful sound collage approach, and complete lack of subtlety. But say what you will about M.I.A., at least her first two albums approached the subject matter with a cohesive tone. By contrast, whokill was perhaps the most placid and buoyant album exploring violent subject matter I've ever heard, and despite some harsh-leaning lyrics and a rich organic sound, it lacked organic depth and deeper insight to me, and it wasn't nearly raw enough to connect on a visceral level either. In other words, as much as I liked the bass melodies and the textured percussion, I felt the album lacked the punch to bely its subject matter.

So honestly, I was curious what was in store for the next album, Nikki Nack, which looked to be heading in a different direction, at least instrumentally. How did it turn out?

video review: 'phantom and the ghost' by styles p

Pretty short review, but still was a pretty solid record that I genuinely enjoyed, and thus there isn't a lot to say about it.

Okay, next up, I should figure out what that whole tUnE-yArDs thing is about. Stay tuned!