The music speaks for itself, but it wasn’t just about the beats. He made those beats until he physically couldn’t anymore; until the fingers that so elegantly graced each button on his MPC 3000 stood still. Dilla loved what he did more than anything else, and he rode off into the sunset while all of us were left bobbing our heads, with tears in our eyes.
Now, after two years of a global pandemic and the birth of his first child, Earl is back again with his latest album. Sick! feels like a natural step forward, without Earl forgetting what has brought him to this very moment.
Shrouded in mysterious origins, an indie-rock record was posted to 4chan at some point in the 2010s. For years, online communities have worked together to discover more about the band behind this mysterious CD, leading to what would eventually become the internet’s greatest musical mystery.
Since its birth in the early ‘90s, the riot grrrl movement has been criticized for being exclusive, and many of the earliest riot grrrl acts did follow a certain mold: white, American, cisgender, thin, English-speaking. Because of this exclusivity, many critics of the movement — and even its founders — have said riot grrrl is dead, and rightfully so. Others, like Larissa Oliveira, are less sure.
Truly sexy music seems like a thing of the archetypal 1980s. The luxe, nostalgia-addled hallucination of plastic-laminate luxury and brick glass, combined with cocaine and digital synthesis seems like a paradigmatic backdrop for hypersexually smooth music.
Måneskin is what I consider to be part of the slowly simmering revival of rock music that’s been occurring in recent years. Their music is filled with brash guitar solos and lyrics of love and rebellion that recall earlier eras of rock.
t was a Wednesday afternoon in September. I sat in my anthropology class fidgeting in my chair and incessantly checking the time on my phone. I’d soon be slipping out the lecture hall to catch a train from Long Island to Manhattan. I thought back to the feeling of excitement that washed over me as I ordered the tickets for Black Pumas back in June. My anticipation for this show was unmatched, as it had already once been postponed, due to — you guessed it — COVID-19.
When Adele posted the teaser for “Easy On Me,” the lead single from her new album 30, we all knew it was time to put our favorite artists out of her shining path. Because this is what Adele’s success looks like: a tsunami that breaks all possible records no matter what (or who) is in the way. No fanbase wants to compete with her.