Over the Celtic influences of “Solway Firth” (at one point, he seems to attempt some Cockney screamo) he issues a blistering riposte to the people he holds responsible for his negative mindset. This deathly intrigue is drawn from Lenker’s own personal traumas, which she successfully spins into something that feels universal. This isn’t it, but it’s pretty great all the same. Linked to the release of his memoirs, the album ruminates on various aspects of his life over downtempo neo-soul production that is mostly crisp but decidedly tame, with some help … We already knew Common was an extremely talented actor and artist, he recently added author to his resume and he's just published his second book.
Considering how few artists have such command of their craft as .Paak, he’s not wrong. Closer “I Don’t Know What to Say” is cinematic in its symphonic drama – perhaps inspired by their 2016 shows at the Royal Albert Hall that featured a full orchestra and choir – and becomes the album’s most moving song. (Alexandra Pollard), The album is packed with personal confessions for the fans – “Arianators” – to pick over. Amo is a way of exploring that, even down to the title itself. “Wake Me When it’s Over”, the third track on In the End, could be “Zombie”’s twin.
You’re inclined to agree with him. (RO), It’s been a long wait for Flying Lotus’s new album.
Tracks are at once astute and deeply personal in how they capture vignettes of everyday life and spin them into important lessons. (Adam White), Listening on headphones, I was reminded of the late French designer Janet Laverriere. On “He Loves Me”, she grapples with maintaining a relationship with God when she’s long since stopped going to church. She sings about the fear of the unknown on “Flying Blind” – her steely determination on this record has you believing that she’ll take the leap regardless. Their debut album, 2017’s About U, was raw, poignant and just the ride side of melodramatic, queering the mainstream, one sad-pop anthem at a time. Her second, I’m Not Your Man, was scuzzier and more explicitly queer – a road she continues down with Any Human Friend, a blunt, bold album on which Hackman’s beatific voice sits atop methodically messy instrumentals.
“Crying Your Eyes Out” appears to be a sombre piano ballad until it ramps up the angst with plaintive vocals, conjuring up a storm with swirling rhythms.
Following last year's Let Love, Common has readied a new nine-track effort set to arrive this week.
Flamagra – a playful yet melancholic, skittish yet meditative 67 minutes of cosmic genius – is one of Flying Lotus’s most accessible releases.
But what lovely ripples it makes. That’s the predominant theme of the singer / rapper / flautist-extraordinaire’s hugely likeable third album, Cuz I Love You. And where better to dream than from the comfort of your own digs? “I’m Pluto, Neptune, pull up, roll up, f**k up, future, future...” they intone. But beneath its hazy synths and electronics are songs of endurance and inner peace, of settling after a flurry of activity. Musically, she’s developed her arrangements and become bolder, too.
(Roisin O'Connor), There are plenty of surprises, like Swizz Beats singing on “Who Are You” against elegant violins that recall a Kamasi Washington composition. The latter is a wide-eyed, strings-laden gem, its childlike, questing lyrics poignant whatever your age. There’s no attempt to chase someone else’s wave here; no token drill, afroswing or trap beats to satisfy playlist algorithms. The result is a quintessentially London record, as dark and moody as it is brash and innovative. (Roisin O'Connor), The record is loosely conceptual insomuch as it’s punctuated with mock adverts for “WWAY HEALTH, our 24/7 care programme”. But there’s a deeper sense of personal connection to anchor Jacklin’s lyrical and melodic smarts. After years making peace with drift and uncertainty, she’s never sounded more sure of anything.
(Elisa Bray), In keeping with the relatively restrained guest spots, it’s heartening just how much Skepta has rejected overloading Ignorance is Bliss with high-profile producers, preferring instead to burrow into his own aesthetic. The pummelling force of We Are Not Your Kind should be enough to silence them – this may be one of the band’s most personal records, but the rage they capture is universally felt.
Tarantino bossa novas and Velvets drones are all imbued with a luminous, cultured seediness, like the entire Cannes Film Festival owning up to its social diseases. This endlessly fascinating artist’s seventh, full-length, album The Practice of Love is just as considered as 2016's Blood Bitch, examining one’s role in humankind and on Earth, and probing that favourite of pop-song themes: love. (Elisa Bray), There’s a cruel irony that the release of The Cranberries’ final album should come just a week after journalist Lyra McKee was shot dead by the New IRA during a riot in Londonderry. Following on from his 2016 album Black America Again, the Chicago-born renaissance man (he’s an actor, author, poet and activist as well as one of the most respected hip-hop artists around) returns with Let Love. “We were so obsessed with writing the next best American record,” sings Del Rey on “Next Best American Record”. And if any two records could portray how quickly someone can grow from a boy to a man, it’s these. Critics may question how relevant Slipknot are in 2019.
His trademark intelligence, honesty and pin-drop production remain intact. The anxiety and pride of impending parenthood converge on “Seventeen”, a paean to the invincibility and melancholy of adolescence. And “Now That I’ve Found You” is even somewhat sickly-sweet in tone, a cheery tribute to his daughter Molly, whom he met for the first time when she was 21.
At her best, Sigrid throws out precision-tooled high notes like icicle javelins into vast, blue Scandi-produced skies. “Black”, the most recent single from the record, considers what that word means to different people around the world, as well as to Dave. (Alexandra Pollard). (Mark Beaumont). The book, Let Love Have The Last Word is an extremely honest account of his journey. Common: 'Sometimes I take the mic and I’m a voice for many – other times it’s what I’m experiencing on a personal level.'. Amo won’t satisfy all of BMTH’s fans, but it’s certainly accomplished, catchy and eclectic enough to bring in some new ones.
This time, with When I Get Home, Solange has effectively given us permission to rest. The title track is pure euphoria, as restless synths of a Utah Saints or Orbital rave break into swelling bass and melody. Are you sure you want to delete this comment?
Enter Common, whose 12th studio album Let Love is very familiar, and very safe. As if to hammer home their parity, they even largely sing in unison – which might have had a plodding effect if the pair’s voices weren’t so distinct: Bridgers sings with a hazy assurance, Oberst with an emotive tremor.
Lux Prima is an accomplished record – proof that two wildly different minds can work seamlessly together. For a start, the range of guest performers is a cornucopia of contemporary soul and hip-hop collaborators: vocalists Moses Sumney, Roots Manuva, Heidi Vogel, Grey Reverend and Tawiah; strings player Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, and keyboardist Dennis Hamm – both of whom have worked with Flying Lotus and Thundercat. (Helen Brown), With praise from Kendrick Lamar, five EPs released by the time she was 21, tours with Lauryn Hill, collaborations with Gorillaz and two critically praised albums – including 2017’s excellent concept album Stillness in Wonderland – fans and critics alike wondered what else Little Simz could do to find the kind of mainstream success enjoyed by so many of her male peers. Aside from “Happiness Is a Butterfly”, that is. He screeches over distorted “ooh oohs” via The Rolling Stones’s “Sympathy for the Devil” on opener “Calm Down aka I Should Not Be Alone”. One minute you’re skanking along to the party brass of “Bloodline”; the next floating into the semi-detached, heartbreak of “Ghostin’”, which appears to address Grande’s guilt at being with Davidson while pining for Miller.
A 27-track masterpiece, the album features the likes of Anderson .Paak, Little Dragon, David Lynch, and Solange, and serves up a hot, textural mix of hip-hop, psychedelia, funk, soul, jazz and electro. In his 25 years in the music industry, Chicago rapper Common has taught hard … Those qualities are captured nowhere more satisfyingly than on “25”. (Alexandra Pollard), Assisted by veteran producer John Congleton (St Vincent, John Grant), he channels the spirit of David Bowie and Iggy Pop.
On opener “Shine a Light”, the riffs are big, the momentum irresistible, with frontman/guitarist Dan Auerbach layering scabrous licks over AC/DC-like chords.
He has Springsteen’s rousing holler, and the early indications of someone who could be the voice of a generation – not because he wants to be, but because he sees things and understands. The album’s lead single, “Me!”, is peppy and poppy in all the wrong ways, a rictus grin of a song that rings hollow. Yorke often tends to make his most explicit political comments outside of music: in a recent interview, for example, he complained about how discourse has regressed, referring to British and American politics as “a Punch and Judy show”. It lacks a centrepiece to match the arresting depth and space of Sweetener’s “God Is A Woman”, but Grande handles its shifting moods and cast of producers (including pop machines Max Martin and Tommy Brown) with engaging class and momentum. (Chris Harvey), “Do you still have that photograph?/ Would you use it to hurt me?” asks Australian indie rocker Julia Jacklin, against the menacing throb of “Body”.
“But I know what I’m showing.” The US artist’s words ring true throughout his fifth studio album, IGOR, where he adopts the dark and twisted mutterings of the Frankenstein character from which the record gets its name.