billboard BREAKDOWN - hot 100 - may 28, 2016 (VIDEO)

Nearly forgot to post this, but it did go over pretty well, so I'm pleased. Next up, the 20,000 subscriber Q&A, so stay tuned!

billboard BREAKDOWN - hot 100 - may 28, 2016

And now... the cooldown week. After the past several weeks of instability, this is the return to the 'status quo' that is characterized by songs returning to old positions of strength and a ton of returning entries. So while to the outside viewer it might appear that there were a lot of shifts this week - and there were, let's not kid ourselves - most are just resets to a form of equilibrium as Drake and Beyonce's big debuts continue to fade away. As such, you'd think it'd be a quieter week, and for the most part it was...

video review: 'thank you' by meghan trainor

Whereas in this case I don't think anyone was remotely surprised that this kind of sucked. Go figure.

Next up, 20k Q&A and Billboard BREAKDOWN, so stay tuned!

video review: 'a moon-shaped pool' by radiohead

So here's a true story: I was genuinely concerned that I'd lose so many subscribers with this video that I postponed filming the 20k Q&A video. Turns out that I didn't lose that many - and that video will probably be going live later today, along with Billboard BREAKDOWN - but still, this was one of my more controversial videos in a while.

Thankfully, the next on our docket wasn't nearly so controversial...

album review: 'thank you' by meghan trainor

Let's talk briefly about selling out.

Now I know that even by opening up the review like this, I've set myself up for a certain amount of backlash, particularly from people who think that I'm using it as an opportunity to denigrate a shift to pop. The funny thing is that you can 'sell out' while still remaining in the same genre, by compromising artistic principles or a unique sound for something that's more generic but is guaranteed to sell better. And that's not making the implication that selling out is inherently a bad thing either - some acts only discover a pop sensibility when they do so, which can result in them making more melodically satisfying music - but especially for an act starting out, it can be a bad sign for times to come, and it tends to rend fanbases in two.

As such, I've had a certain academic curiosity in watching how people have reacted to Meghan Trainor's lead-up to her sophomore release. With her debut album Title, Meghan Trainor carved out a distinctive niche for herself, even if it did happen to turn my stomach with every subsequent listen, a doo-wop inspired retro-pop sound that was safe, self-satisfied, and overwhelming white and saccharine. It was very much music for a demographic that didn't want to be challenged by their music, which would have been fine if Meghan Trainor's songwriting and delivery didn't demand frequent challenges for a load of unsettling implications and amateurish sloppiness, something which Trainor seemed adamant in ignoring. In other words, there are reasons why she took the top two spots on my Top Ten Worst Hit Songs of 2015, one for her collaboration with Charlie Puth on 'Marvin Gaye' and the top spot all for herself with 'Dear Future Husband'.

And yet even despite the avalanche of requests for me to tear her sophomore album a new one, I was genuinely perplexed about Meghan Trainor's new direction. With a track like 'No', which traded one style of plastic pop for another - 50s for late 90s - I had no idea where Trainor was going to be taking her sound as a whole. Was she succumbing to what acclaimed critic Nathan Rabin has described as the 'hoification process' and augmenting her material with more openly brazen sexuality - which would certainly be amusing to dissect after Title - or was this a half-measure to court mainstream nostalgia baiting with a sophomore release that further muddied her message? And more importantly, would it be listenable? Well, I dove into Thank You to find out - what did we get?

album review: 'a moon-shaped pool' by radiohead

Most of the time, I have absolutely no issue going against the critical consensus. Sure, it's nice to know that my opinions are echoed by popular opinion, but I've taken some hard and controversial stances before and I'm not afraid to stand by them. I've found albums that critics adored to be tedious or mediocre, and I've found some albums that were critically savaged to be hidden gems. After all, as much as critics like myself like to think we're the ones who can shape history, reality often proves to be vastly different.

And yet when we get to Radiohead... goddamn it, I wish I liked this band more than I do. The way I've always described the critically beloved group is that I respect them more than I like them - I can appreciate what they did to push boundaries in alternative rock and blending in electronica throughout the 90s and 2000s, but in terms of the records themselves? My favourite Radiohead album has always been The Bends, and while OK Computer and In Rainbows definitely have their moments and are great records in their own right, I've never been able to get passionate about this group. A big part of it is Thom Yorke himself - I can appreciate his expressive delivery to a point, but I've never found him to be the profound or interesting songwriter so many have said. And sure, melodically Radiohead have put together some potent moments and great songs, but when pushed through every shade of melancholy in the book - especially with the increasingly diminished returns of the 2000s - the material just doesn't connect for me. Hell, I'd argue part of it started with Kid A, certainly a good record with some spectacular moments but not worth the ocean of praise the majority of online critics - especially Pitchfork - ejaculated all over it in 2000. And no, it wasn't going electronic that hurt Radiohead for me - In Rainbows found a synthesis of it that was looser, more melodic, and really quite potent, it really is the brighter side to OK Computer - but I will say that the more humanity and organic instrumentation Radiohead tends to embrace, the more their gift for melody comes to the forefront, something which their 2011 record The King Of Limbs didn't emphasize all that effectively in its choice to play for choppy, looped rhythms and minimalism.

So when I heard that their surprise new release A Moon-Shaped Pool was going back towards more organic instrumentation, perhaps even bringing in elements of folk that they've flirted with but never completely embraced for decades... hell, I was intrigued. And even though I'm decidedly in the minority when it comes to Radiohead albums, I figured I still liked the group enough to dig in, so what did I find with A Moon-Shaped Pool?

video review: 'ripcord' by keith urban

So this didn't go well... I wish I could say I was surprised, but I'm really not at this point. Still disappointed, though.

Okay, I think I'm nearly ready to talk about Radiohead, so stay tuned!

album review: 'ripcord' by keith urban

I've talked a fair bit before about the thin line between pop and country, a divide between genres that to some isn't just about the music, but ideology as well. The very idea that country could exist in the same space as pop, with clean and polished tones, light subject matter, and touches of modern production, that's offensive to some people, because it betrays country's commitment to history and authenticity.

Now I'm not one of those people, because like it or not, I think that pop country can be a workable subgenre. Just because the subject matter is lighter, the production is more polished, and the singers are prettier doesn't mean there can't be great music with strong melodies, good performers, and smart writing. Think Lucy Hale, or Shania Twain at her peak - or on the flip side, you could have Keith Urban. And let's make no mistake here, ever since he came up in the same mold with the same producer as Rascal Flatts, he's been making very polished, very accessible pop country. The big difference between him and Rascal Flatts is that he had charisma and better songwriters and wasn't afraid to give his solid guitarwork a little more room to breathe. I'm never going to say that he was an essential act in the 2000s, or that he didn't make very pop songs, especially on his 2013 album Fuse. And yet keep in mind that when I covered it back in 2013 on this channel, I actually liked that album, and for the most part I still do: by keeping the melodies prominent and the percussion grooves breezy, even when they were electronic, the album was an easy, fun listen with some above-average songwriting that was a real pleasant surprise.

Unfortunately, going into Ripcord I had a lot more misgivings - like it or not pop music has gotten more choppy and staccato thanks to the influence of trap, which does not help the flow of a record like this, and the songwriting was only feeling more inane, lacking the subtle flourishes that gave songs on Fuse more personality. I wasn't really wild about any of the lead-off singles, and seeing a Pitbull collaboration immediately threw up a red flag. That said, Keith Urban has earned a fair bit of good will with me, so even despite some pretty harsh critical reviews, I gave it a listen: what did I find?

video review: 'the impossible kid' by aesop rock

Well, this took entirely too long to finish, but I'm glad I finally did. Lot to dissect here, I must say.

Next up... hmm, not sure yet. Do I want to cover Radiohead yet, or should I handle Vektor and Keith Urban... decisions, decisions, but regardless, stay tuned!

album review: 'the impossible kid' by aesop rock

So when I covered Kevin Morby last week, I mentioned that much of the wordplay I tend to prefer is intricate and layered, or at least trying a little harder than bog standard metaphor trying and failing for universality. And with rare exception, if you take a look at my favourite albums of any given year, that focus on lyricism has led to certain records landing on the list that push the gauntlet lyrically but might not quite be as innovative in their sound - or if they are, it's in subtle ways that serves and compliments the writing.

But that's not saying I don't have my limit on the other extreme, the songs that weave such tangled webs of words that clawing forth any specific meaning is a twisted nightmare in and of itself, and that's not even counting the writers who focus more on impressionist poetry over direct meaning. To me, this material draws a lot of curiosity, but the bizarre thing is that they can be a little emotionally distancing - when you get so focused on untangling what is said, you can lose the heart of it all.

And that was my biggest fear before I started delving into Aesop Rock, the veteran MC who is known for having the biggest vocabulary in hip-hop and with a considerable discography and reportedly impenetrable albums. Not only was I concerned about verbosity and so many words adding up to less than expected, but that I would lose the emotional core in the music. Fortunately, as with so much hype on the internet, this didn't happen, and it's been a hugely rewarding experience revisitng Aesop Rock's discography in full, complete with all of the eccentric production choices, oddball lyrical knots, and records that might all run long, but often have a strong enough emotional core to hold my attention. And here's the thing: sure, the music is going to require some work to decode, but no more so than Joanna Newsom or Uncommon Nasa or any other singer-songwriter with an eye for detail, and unlike a rap act like Shabazz Palaces who can get lost in their own impenetrability, Aesop Rock's songs tend to have a point that will crystallize if you dig into them. 

So yeah, I was definitely curious to check out his newest solo release, four years after the critically acclaimed - for good reason - Skelethon, which I'd place in my upper tier of Aesop Rock records just below Labor Days and maybe a smidge above Float. And considering his production has only gotten more layered and complex and buzz was suggesting this might be one of Aesop Rock's most specific and direct releases to date - which is a good thing, as sometimes even he can slip into the lyrical rabbit hole - I was genuinely thrilled to dig into this. So what did we get?

video review: 'you should be here' by cole swindell

Wow, this was a real surprise. Didn't expect this to be all that good, but it turned out to be pretty decent. Go figure.

Next up, I think I'm ready for Aesop Rock and (sigh) Keith Urban, so stay tuned!

album review: 'you should be here' by cole swindell

So, for those of you who have been watching since the very beginning when I discussed the rise and fall of bro-country know that I took a bit of a complicated position surrounding the subgenre - namely that I didn't hate it altogether. I'm not sure what it was, maybe some lingering sympathies from my own bro tendencies, or maybe it was that even despite how stupid it could get, if played with sincerity and production with a little more meat or writing with a bit more tact, you could actually get decent music. 

Of course, the majority of bro-country acts maybe got one out of three on a good day and we got a whole lot of mediocrity, of which I had no qualms giving the thorough thrashing it deserved - when bro-country was good, I had no problems celebrating it, but when it was bad, I wasn't about to avoid an easy target. And one of the easiest was Cole Swindell, a former fratmate and merch manager for Luke Bryan who became a songwriter and later released a debut album I slagged as being one of the most formulaic, badly produced, and sloppily written bro-country records ever made. Until Thomas Rhett came along, Cole Swindell represented the absolute worst of bro-country for me: he might not have been the most obnoxious or processed or have the most offensive writing, but he represented the numb, sterile blandness that came to saturate country radio's mindless attempt to jump on a trend.

But let's be honest: bro-country is effectively over at this point, and Cole Swindell now had to prove he was more than just a trend. And with his lead-off single, the title track of this album that was a tribute to his late father, he actually convinced me to give him another chance. Sure, the percussion and production was too synthetic for my tastes and much of the melody line reminded me way too much of Luke Bryan's 'Crash My Party', but the writing had enough detail to feel authentic and real, even if it is framed through a bro-country lens. So, believe it or not, I had some real hope going into this album that we might see a more interesting or introspective side of Cole Swindell - did we get that?

billboard BREAKDOWN - hot 100 - may 21, 2016 (VIDEO)

Believe it or not, this was actually an easier episode to edit than the last one - took less time too, so go figure.

Next up, Cole Swindell, so stay tuned!

billboard BREAKDOWN - hot 100 - may 21, 2016

This is probably not going to be one of the nicer episodes of Billboard BREAKDOWN, just so you're all forewarned. And those of you who follow this series probably know that already because I've been calling this for a few weeks now. Well, my predictions came true, and not only did we lose every single Prince song from the Hot 100, they all got replaced by Drake, including the #1. And I'm going to say this right now: Views has only become less interesting since I covered it, and while you could cite that being my own fault given that I've been listening steadily to Aesop Rock and Death Grips, it doesn't change the fact the record is tedious, inconsistently produced, and increasingly badly written. And yet the mainstream public jumped all over it, giving Drake the record number of Hot 100 entries - and yet unlike Beyonce, I wouldn't expect many of these to stick around.

video review: 'bottomless pit' by death grips

Well, this was surprisingly solid, really did enjoy it. Next up, Billboard BREAKDOWN... so yeah, stay tuned if you want me to give Drake another round of thrashing, stay tuned!

album review: 'bottomless pit' by death grips

Okay, I can't be the only one who is a little surprised Death Grips is still releasing music at this point, am I?

Because let's be completely honest here: after the 'break-up/reunion' that played into the whole lead-up of their last album The Powers That B which I covered last year, I got the impression that Death Grips were at the very least stretching the patience of their fanbase, only able to keep them on board because they were consistently delivering quality, albeit with records like Government Plates that might be a step away from their best. Sure, I wasn't wild about the first half of that double album, but Jenny Death did prove to be the explosive, noise-rock-inspired climax that could serve as a logical, emotionally satisfying endpoint to their wild saga...

And then they kept going. And sure, you could have predicted some of it - you could definitely argue the end of Jenny Death was a rebirth of sorts for Death Grips, a regeneration into new flights of experimentation, but I can't be the only one who feels the novelty isn't quite there anymore. Noisier production is a lot more common in alternative hip-hop these days than back in 2012, and while MC Ride is still a presence unto himself, the graphic nihilism doesn't shock me in the same way anymore. And let's get real, you can only really take the arc that Jenny Death took once, but on the flip side, this also meant that with Bottomless Pit anything could happen. So I jumped into Bottomless Pit - where did I wind up?

video review: 'the colour in anything' by james blake

I'm honestly not sure how this review is going to be received. I mean, the album is good, but I get the feeling people are going to be pissed that I don't think it's great... because I don't. Eh, it happens.

Next up, Death Grips, so stay tuned!

album review: 'the colour in anything' by james blake

So on Billboard BREAKDOWN earlier this week, when I was covering Beyonce's 'Forward', the collaboration interlude she made with PBR&B and post-dubstep artist James Blake, it was implied by someone that I'd like to see James Blake drop an album sometime in the near future. And while that's definitely true, I started trying to dissect why, because he's not often an artist I seek out, but one I'm happy exists all the same. His brand of moody yet soulful atmospheric electronic R&B can be surprisingly compelling, albeit more for the performance than the content. All of James Blake's biggest strengths shine through in subtlety, and the details, and while I never really loved his self-titled record or his 2013 sophomore release Overgrown, they were both records I found myself revisiting to try and extract more.

So little did I expect that James Blake would seemingly follow up on my suggestion and drop a record with no warning whatsoever! Now as much as I'd like to say I called it and would love to further test my precognitive powers, in reality it's probably just a matter of timing. After all, for the first time in his career James Blake has landed a featuring credit on the Hot 100 thanks to 'Forward' with Beyonce, so why not push that moment of hype further with the long-teased third record The Colour In Anything. But on a similar note, I was concerned that the release might be overshadowed by louder or more famous entries, especially when hours later Radiohead announced they were releasing a new album this Sunday! And that's not considering the album itself, which running over an hour is nearly double the length of previous James Blake albums, and I was a bit concerned how well that sort of atmosphere would translate to a longer project. But enough dancing around the issue: how did I find The Colour In Anything?

video review: 'singing saw' by kevin morby

Well, so this sucked. I'm genuinely curious how people are going to respond to this review - it's a critically acclaimed release, but it's also a smaller one, so I have no idea how much of a response it's going to get one way or another.

Anyway, next up I've got a bunch of albums to get through before I cover Aesop Rock, so I might fit in Death Grips ahead of time... stay tuned!

album review: 'singing saw' by kevin morby

So I don't cover a lot of music from the indie folk rock scene - and believe it or not, I actually have a reason. Several reasons actually, the first being volume, because it seems like every other week I hear about a new up-and-coming indie folk songwriter that I need to hear and most don't really impress me. I used to define it as a general aversion to the 'white guy with acoustic guitar' subgenre, but it runs a little more complicated: when you strip down the sound to the bare essentials, those essentials all need to be great working order or the flaws stand out all the more. And yeah, part of it is the fact that when you've heard so much singer-songwriter music, your bar when it comes to compositions or lyrics tends to be quite high - and I'll be blunt and say that a lot of this material can get tedious or pretentious if the writing or instrumentation doesn't step up.

And those were a lot of the thoughts I had before looking to cover Kevin Morby, most notable as being the former bassist of indie rock band Woods before going solo in 2013. And when I checked out his two previous records to this... well, they have their moments, I guess. I was never really gripped much by the songwriting - it always felt a little too self-serving and lacking in storytelling chops, with none of the writing having any sort of flair or punch - but a lot of the production and composition was nice, and I always appreciated a commitment to solid mix balances. But it wasn't until the second album Still Life where I saw the long shadow of The National hanging over Kevin Morby, especially in the vocal production and the blend of alternative country and modern folk rock influences - and look, I love The National, but I don't need a sleepier version of a group that already has trouble with momentum.

That said, this record has been getting a suspicious amount of critical acclaim, so I figured what the hell and checked out Singing Saw - how did it go?