By: Rachel Katz
When The Silhouette interviewed Scott Helman about a month ago, he had officially released three songs. On Oct. 14, he released his first full EP, Augusta.
The seven-track record is impressive. From beginning to end it is 26 minutes, and every second is compelling. From the opening beats of “Bungalow” to the final lines of “Somewhere Sweet,” Helman has established himself as a musical force. From the quiet, intense “Machine” to the wild, meandering “Tikka,” he has proven himself an artist constrained by neither genre nor subject matter.
In many ways, the album is nearly perfect. It has the right mix of catchy beats and mellow sounds, and Helman can definitely write. His lyrics are hilarious, honest, and heartfelt all at once, and they make listening to Augusta an intimate experience. My one problem with the music is the use of an electric drum kit in some songs. No synthesized drums match the power of a real drum kit, and in some cases, it takes away from the music. But that’s a fairly minor problem, especially for a first album.
I fell in love with Augusta for two reasons. My working knowledge of music is slim, but when an artist is so captivating and shows so much promise that even I can tell how much potential he or she has, I take note, and in the time I’ve been listening to him, Helman has always proven himself to be skilled and charismatic.
Once I recovered from the initial “wow” factor of Augusta, I asked myself why I couldn’t stop listening to it. I realized that Helman’s music sounds familiar, not because we are both from Toronto, but because you can actually hear the vibrancy of the city in his music. Happiness, sadness, heartbreak, and anger are artfully arranged together, and maybe it’s just my way of being homesick, but when I listen to Augusta I feel like I’m home.
Over the summer Tinashe made a strong bid for song of the summer with “2 On,” which took the club by storm despite being a relatively low key banger. The DJ Mustard track is the most upbeat song on her debut Aquarius, which is a remarkably minimalist affair. Even though her past mixtapes were prime examples of experimental R&B done right, too often major label debuts have diluted an artist’s original style. As an actual cohesive body of work, Aquarius stands as the best debut mainstream album this year.
On the surface, the signs of trouble are there if you take a peek at the track list; the hit making team ScHoolboy Q, Future, A$AP Rocky, Cashmere Cat, StarGate, Mike WILL Made It, and more are all here. Tinashe’s style is also equally varied, having been compared to a host of greats like Janet Jackson, Alliyah, and Ciara. While these comparisons are flattering and clear, they do a disservice to Aquarius. Tinahse is versatile enough to evoke the sound of all these artists while simultaneously merging her sound with current trends and managing all the cooks in the kitchen. It’s a thin line, but she walks it with confidence.
Unfortunately, like many albums that intend on evoking a specific atmosphere, some tracks start to blend together. “All Hands on Deck” comes off as a high quality but desperate attempt at replicating “2 On.” Some of the interludes are pretentious and Future almost kills the vibe on the sexy “How Many Times.”
In the end, the blunders can be looked past because there are some real gems in the young starlet’s major label debut. “Feels Like Vegas” may be the best sex song since Beyoncé’s “Rocket” in a genre that has devolved into buff guys singing about how much they’re packing. “Bet” is almost without a chorus but succeeds because Tianshe’s oozing vocals move in and out of the spacey beat with ease. It’s a five-minute sonic experiment that rewards listeners with a euphoric outro by Dev Hynes. On “Cold Sweat,” she shows her range, quickly moving between breathy, rapping, and falsettos.
For such a cohesive work, it is remarkable that after multiple listens, I still can’t pin down Aquarius’ genre. Drawing from pop, hip-hop, traditional and progressive R&B, Tinashe refuses to be pigeonholed – and that’s what makes her truly modern.
This time, Childish Gambino spared us the full-fledged multimedia attempt at bringing together his writing, rapping, and social media skills that made Because the Internet the clunky and confusing mess that it was.
Still, he didn’t spare us all the drama. STN MTN / Kauai was released as a dual-sided concept album, following the same character from Because the Internet. It begins with Gambino dreaming that he’s running Atlanta and the last track, “Go DJ”, transitions into Kauai’s first track, “Sober”.
In STN MTN, the storyline is hard to follow and other than in the first and last tracks, the dream motif fails to give the track the dream-like and surrealist feeling you would hope for. If anything, Kauai sets a much more surrealist and mellow vibe than STN MTN. In STN MTN, Gambino’s style and lyrics sound like nothing more than mainstream rap with its misogynistic lyrics and not-so-subtle bragging, which don’t always fit with his voice or tone.
It’s clear that Gambino wants to be different, and his creative endeavours are appreciated, but STN MTN’s generic lyrics won’t serve him well in this pursuit.
Despite STN MTN’s shortcomings, Kauai sounds like what Gambino fans (or at least this fan) expect from him. “Sober” is a beautiful and soft R&B song. “Retro” combines some of Gambino’s best musical talents: his singing, his falsetto and his witty lyrics. “Pop Thieves” is a great example of Gambino finally finding a cohesive way to explore different artistic mediums, featuring spoken word by noted mathmagician Jaden Smith.
Overall, Kauai is gorgeous. The recurring beach sounds do what STN MTN couldn’t in maintaining a theme throughout the album. While it definitely has some questionable choices (did I mention Jaden Smith?), it’s worth listening to, if only to experience Gambino’s musical progress since Because the Internet.
By: Nicole Vasarevic
26-year-old Swedish singer Tove Nilsson, better known as Tove Lo, has finally released her debut single album on Sept. 30, and has outdone herself. Queen of The Clouds is the ultimate soundtrack to a reckless Saturday night out after a bad breakup with someone who you thought was your one true love.
Tove Lo has had a slow, yet promising rise in the music industry. Besides her popular solo work, some may recognize her from Icona Pop’s hit “I Love It” or the catchy intro to Disclosures “Latch” featuring Sam Smith. These hits come as no surprise, as Tove Lo was bound for success at a young age. Starting out as a lyricist and writing for artists including Cher, Lo has earned her place in the music industry.
Queen of the Clouds chart-topping single “Habits (Stay High)” is the perfect walkthrough of what the album is about: love, heartbreak, and all the ill-advised ways of dealing with it. Featuring a music video where Tove Lo is covering hickeys and making out with boys (and girls) in graffiti covered bathrooms, “Habits (Stay High)” channels the reckless energy that makes Lo’s songs so compelling.
Lo’s sweet and girlish voice will catch you off guard with her vulgar and almost self- destructive lyrics, and boy, the girl can belt out those high notes. In “Talking Body” she doesn’t sugar coat it by saying, “if you love me right, we fuck for life.”
It is this kind of energy that makes Tove Lo a shocking breath of fresh air in a time where pop music has been lacking in rawness and edge. By manipulating spacey beats beat that wash over you and possess you to do something reckless, Tove Lo explores the animalistic and archaic emotions that lie deep within us all.
Listening to Queen of The Clouds is a fantastic experience, but it may release your inner ex-boyfriend-calling, pool-hopping self. So be warned.
Alvvays' show at the Casbah on Oct. 5 was a flash in the pan. I stepped in from the cold five minutes before their set started and barely had time to break a sweat before lead singer Molly Rankin was announcing that they were about to play their last song of the night.
My experience wasn’t any different from the one I have when listening to the Toronto jangle-pop band’s infectious debut record — I didn’t want it to end and was left a bit put out when it did.
Like any show happening in the cozy venue just off Main Street, it was an intimate affair. Standing only a few feet from the eager crowd, Rankin thanked everyone for attending and asked if the sole three people who attended their last Hamilton show were in the audience. The blonde songstress was greeted with peals of laughter at such a suggestion but adamantly insisted that it had really happened. The rest of the band — Kerri MacLellan, Alec O’Hanley, Brian Murphy, and Phil MacIsaac — seemed equally happy to be past that “real dark shit” (in Rankin’s words) and in a phase of their career where they would draw a capacity crowd on a Sunday.
While their debut was dropped in the summer and shares certain elements with fellow female-led surf-rock outfit, Best Coast, Alvvays’ material is imbued with a much more emotional depth. The self-titled album’s strength lies in Rankin’s exquisite lyrics that marry well with the simple song structure created by the band and made rougher around the edges by producer Chad VaanGaalen.
The set was a tight one, running only ten songs and leaving everyone pining for more as the characters in Alvvays’ songs so often are. Rankin was comfortable on stage (which might have something to do with her lineage) and her radiant smile seemed to be meant for everyone. Much of the stage banter was left to her and she made sure to inquire if all the short people could see and implored everyone to help them out. Being 6’3 myself, I always feel a healthy amount of guilt for being #bornthisway, but I encountered no derision from the dwarves around me.
The odd time that guitarist Alec O’Hanley interjected with his own witticism, I get the feeling he wished he hadn’t. O’Hanley went to thank opening act Heat for “heating things up” but immediately regretted his pun and apologized for not being able to concoct something more elegant on the spot.
Not willing to leave one of their own out to dry, the rest of the band launched into album standout “Party Police”. I must confess that tears were shed on my part as Rankin’s angelic voice pierced through the air and stabbed repeatedly at my heart, which felt like it was under attack by a dull kitchen knife for the song’s entire four-minute duration. The band closed their all too brief show as I dried off my face with ‘”Archie, Marry Me”, another banger that had the audience packed around the stage both bobbing their heads and shouting out the lyrics. While Alvvays might not be back in Hamilton for a while, they’ll always be in our hearts.
By: Rachel Katz
Jarring is a word not often attributed to music, but that’s the most accurate way to describe The Drums’ new album Encyclopedia. At times beautiful and soft, at others harsh and disjointed, the band’s third album is a confusing whirlwind of lush, layered sounds.
But that’s not inherently bad.
With Encyclopedia, Jonny Pierce and Jacob Graham continue to do what The Drums excel at: telling the truth. And, as heard in “Bell Laboratories,” the truth isn’t always pretty. The cacophony of sounds used in some of the tracks helps convey the band’s darker feelings and experiences.
That said, there are soothing, vulnerable tracks on the album that help ground the dizzying sounds of “Magic Mountain.” “Break My Heart” and “There Is Nothing Left” contrast the harsher songs on the record with their softer melodies and more traditional pop ballad sound.
My issue with the album is the lack of segues. The band does so many different things with the record that the added jolt from a disjointed song to a mellow one with nothing to ease the transition makes it difficult to focus on the music.
The Drums have created a world within Encyclopedia. The silence that follows the end of the album’s lush sounds feels stifling. The record ends with “Wild Geese,” a haunting track that some may consider a weak ending, but actually acts as a bridge that eases us back into the real world.
The Drums have created a piece of statement art rather than a traditional album. The raw sounds on some of the tracks connected with me in a way that music often falls short of doing. Is it my favourite album of the year? No. But it is powerful, and if you listen closely, you might just lose yourself in Encyclopedia.
A year after the release of her EP Sail Out and a series of successful features and guest appearances, Jhené Aiko is back to woo us with her sweet voice on her first full studio album Souled Out. While the album suffers from some of the bumps and bruises of her past works, the singer proves that her formula of calming melodies and breezy production still leaves the listener satisfied.
For those unfamiliar, Aiko has had a strong year musically, and it shows. She demonstrated how valuable she can be on other artists’ songs, working with Drake, Kendrick Lamar and Childish Gambino, while proving her ability to stand on her own with songs like “The Worst”. In that time it seems she gained the confidence needed to “sail out” towards an album that relies less on the talents of featured artists, and more on her own abilities.
The result is certainly mixed. On one hand, Aiko’s greatest strength is her voice, or more specifically, using her smooth voice to her advantage in terms of production. While she may not boast the range of Adele or Beyoncé, Aiko possesses an effortless breezy tone that sets her apart from the crowd of other RnB female vocalists. As such, Aiko makes sure to include tracks that pair well with her sound; ethereal and synths, clean guitars, and reverb heavy drums all play a part in constructing Souled Out’s aquatic sound.
Unfortunately, these qualities can also have the unfortunate drawback of simply boring the listener. When Aiko fails to mix up the rhythms in her melodies, the songs tend to blend together, leaving little impression to those tuning in. Many tracks across the album simply sound too similar to each other, leaving an album filled with a bit too much filler. For those who weren’t a fan of her past work - whether it’s her solo tracks or features - it is likely you will find the same flaws in Souled Out.
Still, when Aiko succeeds it’s hard to ignore. Songs like “W.A.Y.S” showcase Aiko at her strongest. Pulling the listener up and down, “W.A.Y.S” is a prime example of her ability to convey raw emotion almost effortlessly, and is easily the best track on the album. This emotion only becomes stronger thanks to the high quality production of veterans Thundercat and Clams Casino. “W.A.Y.S”, an abbreviation for “why aren’t you smiling” a kind of catch phrase of her late brother, deals with loss and the chaotic nature of life without holding back. Because of this, it is easy to get wrapped up in the emotional whirlwind that Souled Out offers. This same energy exists in “Eternal Sunshine” and “Promises” leaving the second half of the album the highlight of the project.
In the end, Souled Out isn’t perfect. The songs at times blend together, lacking distinction, but Aiko’s ability to translate her emotions so effectively into her music makes it worth the price of admission.
As the tech industry becomes increasingly marred by planned obsolescence, it can be incredibly exhausting to keep up with all the new devices seemingly thrust into the world out of nowhere. But while many flocked to Apple’s site this month to take in the specs of the latest iPhone — and hear Jony Ive’s terrific pronunciation of “aluminum” — I found myself scorning the new device in order to mourn the death of an esteemed old one.
In an unforeseen move, Apple has ceased production of the iPod Classic. What was once its marquee music player has now been unceremoniously pulled from the Apple website without much fanfare.
There is almost no reason for anyone to care with many other options available, but I still felt personally aggrieved and fair bit sentimental upon hearing the news, considering I still use mine to this day.
Born and bred with a touch screen close at hand, today’s youth have no reason to be nostalgic for a time when navigating one’s music library meant using a cumbersome click-wheel.
Despite its sometimes-tedious interface, the Classic was a music nerd’s dream with its one hundred and sixty gigabytes of storage and its understatedly sleek design. In many ways, the Classic was the gateway to a life spent obsessing over music.
I still remember with a touch of pride the day my library expanded to the point where my paltry sixteen gigabyte Nano couldn’t contain it; I could finally justify the purchase of a Classic to my mom whose credit card I would borrow to make the purchase at the store, as my debit had a hundred dollar limit (before you mock me, this was in grade ten).
I rushed home to unbox my prize and cradled it with tenderness normally reserved for newborns. The black iPod had a certain heft to it that made it a pleasure to hold in the palm of my hand and I vowed to keep it in pristine form for as long as possible.
As with all machines, it had a number of eccentricities that made it all the more loveable, including the gentle whir of its inner mechanisms. Although I was careful with it through the years, my iPod now has a few knocks that could have been avoided — did I really have to stick it in my hoodie pocket only for it to fall out during my run? —but it is still steadily plugging along.
Over time, I’ve gradually filled its innards with more newly discovered music – and I only have twenty-five gigs left. It saddens me that the sixty-four gigabyte touch is the largest iPod people have to choose from now, but I realize that with the popularization of cloud-based streaming services like Spotify and the gradual cheapening of data plans, large storage capacity won’t be necessary in the future.
Although I’ll still stick with mine for the time being, it pains me to say farewell to a mammoth. Take care, iPod classic. Don’t forget to eject before disconnecting.
By: Adrian Valentine
One thing can be said for certain, Lights sings her heart out on her latest full-length release. Little Machines is typical of her style in that she relies on synthetic beats and techno sounds to create a moderately upbeat album that echoes a lot of familiar pop. The Torontonian songstress has stopped trying to be different and has instead adopted an amalgamation of popular electronic pop.
The first song on the album, “Portal,” introduces a new element to Lights with a very soft, steady lyrical rhythm over a synthetic drone. “Portal” comes in contrast to the beat-driven lyrics of the rest the album, as in “Up We Go” and “Running with the Boys,” both of which flaunt a happy harmony that provokes you to dance instead of think. But following those two tracks, the album drops in tempo and ends with a solemn electronic acoustic piece.
The album does provide an enjoyable background listen for study, and I can even see “Up We Go” playing in clubs over a remix sometime soon. It would also make for a great road trip soundtrack if you're feeling a bit more introspective, with songs like “From All Sides,” “Don’t Go Home Without Me” and “The Same Sea” bringing the melody back down.
Lights appeals to the public by relying on musical norms and not trying to break the mold very much. She leans on techno-beats and uses her powerful voice and lyrics to save the instrumentals, which, on their own, are kind of boring.
Little Machines is an apt listen for anyone looking to chill out with the upbeat songs not present enough to give the album a dance vibe. It’s a well-put together album but it won’t leave you in awe.
By: Nicole Vasarevic
They say that your first will always hold a special place in your heart. Supercrawl 2014 now sits beside my first bike and my first kiss.
People. Poutine. Power outages. That would pretty much sum up my first Supercrawl experience. As I arrived with a group of friends the first thing I thought was, “take a deep breath Nicole, you won’t be able to breathe in that crowd.” I soon realized that being pressed up against strangers was more of a blessing then a curse seeing as I did not dress for the frigid weather. My anxiety of crowds was quickly swallowed by the smell of poutine, and my mission soon turned from surviving to devouring. A greasy poutine from the Texas Tornado food truck was calling my name. However, by the time I came to the front of the line, my initial craving was still lost in the sea of people.
While aimlessly walking around, having second thoughts about that poutine line, I stumbled onto a few galleries and marveled at the artists’ work while silently scorning myself for giving more priority to the food than the art. We stopped by the Baltimore House for some local music and caught the end of the set of Toronto band, Greys. After grabbing a beer, we headed out back into the droves of revelers for the The Arkells.
Losing about 90% of my friends was a given when you go to such a big event, but I can’t say I was expecting the steady flow of drunken people who continuously climbed the traffic light only to be pulled down by the police minutes after. The Arkells toughed it out through some power outage hiccups and played a nostalgic set that had me singing at an inappropriate volume. Before I knew it, my first Supercrawl experience had come to an end. I’ve got to admit I was a little bit bummed that I didn’t have more time to really explore all that Supercrawl had to offer, but there is always next year.
My first Supercrawl experience was just like the HSR buses at the end of the night, full of people and passing by me in the blink of an eye.
