Miley Cyrus finds home in herself with ‘Plastic Hearts’

Plastic Hearts, RCA Records

Foam fingers, bleached hair, cowboy boots, and psychedelics. Transcendent Disney star Miley Cyrus has become perhaps the most commercially experimental millennial artist to graduate from the Disney Channel.

Since her days on Hannah Montana, Cyrus has had a good girl gone bad moment in her third album Can’t Be Tamed, taken it one step further in the instantly viral and often superb Bangerz, and stripped herself back down in an effort to mature with the misdirected Younger Now. The streamline throughout her discography up to this point is its innate consideration of reputation and public perception.

In reaction to her Disney days, Cyrus contradicted her image by releasing Can’t Be Tamed and Bangerz. In contrast, Younger Now revealed a Miley Cyrus once again pivoting away from what the public expected. The back-to-roots project was stripped bare, unfortunately erasing much of the singer’s edge in the process.

With her seventh studio album, Plastic Hearts, the developing singer/songwriter finally lets go of that image in what will likely come to be known as the quintessential Miley Cyrus album; it’s an equation of her inspirations, her past sounds, and her growing control over her sonic style. It has pop, it has rock, it has alt. It’s a dazzling, often restrained showcase of an artist who continues to evolve, ripping apart the plastic to reveal a more authentic version of herself.

The album opens with the scathing “WTF Do I Know,” decidedly leaving off a question mark in the title. More of a statement than a longing for answers, the track immediately sets the tone. Cyrus has evolved on the introduction. She’s shed the scars of her relationships, turning her attention inward to her own growth. This unapologetic attitude is undeniably empowered and Cyrus has never sounded more confident. The sonic references to “Start All Over” from her Hannah Montana days is just an added treat to this kiss off.

The album quickly sinks deeper into a more thoughtful string of songs in “Plastic Hearts” and “Angels Like You.” There’s a level of self-reflexive apathy present on the former that aptly fits the overall album theme. Featuring a Rolling Stones inspired sound bed, “Plastic Hearts” is a groovy tune that encapsulates the album. It isn’t overly adventurous or all that exciting, but it gets the artist’s message across.

Similar is “Angels Like You,” the first moment of empathy from Cyrus on the record. She reflects on a previous relationship here, offering her kind words and understanding to her past love. The self-assuredness on this track is an astonishing showcase of the singer’s growth. She knows herself, and knows the relationship is doomed. Her lover is too kindhearted to survive a relationship with the firey Miley.

Similar is the penultimate track on the album, “Never Be Me.”

Cyrus provides listeners with context into her state of mind throughout the chorus. She expresses her lack of fidelity, stability, and desire to manage someone else’s baggage. Its one of the highlights of the album, beautifully presenting an artist growing into herself and her prime. From a technical standpoint, Cyrus’ vocals have never sounded more emotive or poignant.

While Plastic Hearts loaded with surprisingly softer ballads, that isn’t to say the album has some head thrashing bangers. The first of which is the undeniable Dua Lipa collaboration, “Prisoner.” Both singers lend a level of grit to the anthem, running from a doomed love throughout the song. This momentum continues on one of the most fun tracks on the album, “Gimme What I Want.” With a murky electric guitar riff and a frivolous Cyrus looking for instant gratification, it’s awesome.

Cyrus also finds new ways of expressing herself on the record through duets with her inspirations in Billy Idol and Joan Jett. On “Night Crawling” with Idol, she adopts his signature sound with an 80s-rock single. It’s “Blinding Lights” meets Michael Jackson’s “Thriller,” the blending of new and old that has dominated pop this year, the sound also laying the foundation of lead single “Midnight Sky.”

Underneath the spectrum of rock that dominates the sound of Plastic Hearts are more vulnerable showcases of the singer’s evolution. On “Hate Me,” Cyrus finds a stylish way to contemplate her own death in the context of her past loves and friendships. Like “Plastic Hearts,” it isn’t all that interesting or boundary pushing, but the lyrics on top of the standard backing is enough to compel listeners.

Improving upon “Hate Me” is the Mark Ronson assisted standout “High.” A rare perspective from Cyrus on this album, it showcases her longing for a past relationship. Its the matured successor to Bangerz opener “Adore You.” For the first time in her career, the singer successfully blends her sonic inspirations with the track. Country twang blend with traditional rock sensibilities to curate a perfect atmosphere for the song’s content.

Plastic Hearts plays it safe more often than it should, but in reflecting on the artist’s recent work, this is only the beginning. It’s a career rebirth that will hopefully unlock the doors for more country rock leaning sensibilities.

Closing the album with “Golden G String,” the pop rock chameleon leaves listeners with a concise summary of her current mentality. Combing through the memories of her past and her mistakes, Cyrus finds closure in self-awareness.

“I was tryin’ to own my power. Still I’m tryin’ to work it out,” she coos. With Plastic Hearts, she finally does.


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Grammys 2021: Nominations + Predictions

Another year, another chaotic and unpredictable string of nominees to read across the screens of music fans, lovers, and critics as they hear the nominees for this year’s Grammy Awards. Pleasant surprises and shocking oversights were to be expected, but the biggest surprise this year is The Weeknd’s complete shut out. Receiving 0 nominations in a year when the artist is at what many consider his peak, After Hours‘ failure to be recognized is baffling. The first smash album to come from the pandemic, After Hours is the cinematic escape from reality that listeners could latch on and relate to. Where it didn’t literally relate to the year at play, it thematically weaved together concepts like isolation, grief, and loneliness in an extremely profound way. It’s just one of many shockers to come from one of the most baffling lists in Grammy history yet.

Take a look a look at the snubs, surprises, picks and predictions for this year’s ceremony:

Sam Smith finds liberation in convention

Love Goes, Capitol

“I wanna be wild and young, and not be afraid to lose,” Sam Smith coos in the opening line of their long reworked third studio album Love Goes. The dance pop record, originally titled To Die For, is essentially a breakup album explored through the theme of rebirth and re-acclamating with oneself.

Like Lorde’s Melodrama and Taylor Swift’s Red before it, the album finds enlightenment in heartbreak. The biggest issue with the project isn’t that its themes are familiar, it’s that Smith’s self actualization comes in the form of their weakest artistry to date. The bulk of the record feels so commonplace it only beckons listeners to reassemble with Smith’s past work. With each wave, it’s pulled in a new sonic direction, none of which stick the landing enough to dazzle.

Opening with “Youth,” Love Goes has a clear narrative of love lost. Smith’s heartbreak is well worn in the intro as they yearn for the next phase of their life. Before they find it, they succumb to memories with bitter hindsight on standout “Diamonds” and “Another One.” Their partner, shallow and quick to move on, has done a number on the pop crooner.

The remaining story of the album is Smith’s crawl back to themself, gluing their soul back together to new sounds. Similar to Lorde’s “Green Light,” they find solace on the dance floor and in the forms of new bodies and friends. If only this profound realization was reflected in a stronger, more unified production.

The majority of the songs on Love Goes play it extremely safe. On “So Serious,” Smith reflects on their lack of freedom, taking things overly personal. It’s set to a backdrop of snaps and claps that, if played at a low volume, may lay listeners to sleep. Instantly forgettable, the track lacks substance. Similar is the often whispered vocal of “Breaking Hearts.” Another song of losing love and the one sided aftermath Smith experiences, it too lacks conviction and singularity.

Perhaps most disappointing is the Labrinth assisted title track. In a year when Labrinth simply never misses (listen to the award winning Euphoria score immediately), the single is exactly that. What is meant to be the cathartic climax of a once in a lifetime love, it leaves listeners with little more than a shrug.

There are moments of sparkle within the album. One of the strongest moments comes in “Dance (‘Til You Love Someone Else).” The track is one of the few actually convincing moments of Smiths newly established sound. Applying the popular UK sound found in house pop like Calvin Harris’ “How Deep Is Your Love,” the song effectively supports its confident lyricism.

Unsurprisingly, Smith shines brightest when they slow down the party with the ballad “For The Lover That I Lost.” It’s a rare glimpse of the artist fans have come to love over the years. Their voice is truly once in a generation, and it couldn’t be more apparent than on this gem of a deep cut.

At 11 tracks, the standard edition of the album closes with “Kids Again.” A Troye Sivan esque track reveals a still hurt, but more matured Smith. Its another glimpse of the sound they were going for in constructing the project.

The biggest flaw of the record is its directionless structure. Where Taylor Swift’s Red lightsped through genres through the lens of the emotional process, Love Goes fails to justify its sonic incoherence. Some of the strongest statements lay in the deluxe tracks released across the last year and a half, namely “Dancing With a Stranger” and “To Die For.”

If nothing more, Love Goes shows an artist willing and committed to evolving. Whatever’s next, Smith has the potential to grow into whatever they want to become next.


Catalogue Check: Ariana Grande

Ariana Grande has grown through popstar evolution and personal tragedy. With perhaps the strongest vocals out of any singer in pop today, the songstress has withstood countless heartbreaks, romantically and publicly, and dealt with far more than most people can say. The one constant, though, has been music. Through it all, the superstar has bared her soul to the world and picked herself to travel to new heights. As we await the arrival of positions later this evening, let’s look back at each of Grande’s studio albums, ranked.


A Definitive Ranking of Every Ariana Grande Album:

5. Yours Truly (2013)

From its inception, Yours Truly was meant as an experiment. Opener “Honeymoon Avenue” went through several reworks, and after the success of one of the strongest singles of Grande’s career in “The Way (feat. Mac Miller),” the remainder of the record opted for a contemporary doo-wop R&B sound. It has a lot of highlights, namely the aforementioned intro, as well as “The Way” doppelgänger “Right There (feat. Big Sean)” and deep cut “You’ll Never Know,” but it pales in comparison to the more fully realized artistry of her follow-ups.


My Everything, Republic

4. My Everything (2014)

Grande’s sophomore effort was less of an album and more of a “throw everything at the wall and see what sticks” project. Her most, industry speaking, political record, it offers the glossy EDM of its time in “Break Free (feat. Zedd)” and an impressive array of collaborations from the biggest names in R&B and Hip-Hop. In addition, who can forget that sax on “Problem” and the guest spot from now irrelevant Iggy Azalea. The album could not be more from its time. That said, it doesn’t have much of a voice or any real insight into who Grande is as an artist. Bangers? Quite definitely, but like from Yours Truly, compelling artistry is the missing piece in this bloated pop confection.


Sweetener, Republic

3. Sweetener (2018)

Sweetener is an incredibly complex project. Coming after the Manchester attacks in a time when Grande found joy in a new love, it’s a glimmer of hope in what continues to be a violent and uncertain cultural moment in history. Grande enlisted the help of the ever-present Pharell Williams and longtime collaborator Max Martin for the bulk of the album, which is as much an asset as it is a burden. The different styles of the aforementioned producers make much of the album a jarring, disjointed listen. It lends itself to trap pop in “God is a woman” and “everytime,” but also showcases Grande’s best N.E.R.D. impressions in “the light is coming” and title track “sweetener.” Some tracks are complete throwaways, while others remain some of Grande’s strongest work. As an entire project it’s messy and uneven, but its ambition alone elevates it from much of the singer’s past work.


thank u, next, Republic

2. thank u, next (2019)

The fact that this album, in all of its cultural ubiquity, did not win Album of the Year in 2020 was a huge shock to most. Led by dual smash hit singles “thank u, next,” the biggest and baddest ex kiss-off of the 21st century, and “7 rings,” a revamped Sound of Music banger, the album was undoubtedly the most talked about of the year. While the lyricism could have been stronger, the empowering narrative and personal growth Grande poured into the record remains an astonishing feat, only months after the Sweetener release and death of dear friend and partner Mac Miller.


Dangerous Woman, Republic

1. Dangerous Woman (2016)

From the moment “Dangerous Woman” was released into the world, pop Stans and music listeners everywhere did a double take. Here she was, a near fully realized superstar finally seizing the power of her own vocals. What followed was a decidedly “good girl gone bad” evolution for Ariana Grande. Does it cater to the cliches of pop albums that have come before it? Sure, but it does it ever so stylishly. Coming before a wave of grief completely and unfairly removed an innocent young woman from a joyous time in her life, the album showcased Grande at her most powerful and least problematic. There was no brown facing, instead a collection of timeless bangers cohesively stitched together in her strongest project to date. Dangerous Woman is peak pop.

Dominic Fike’s ‘What Could Possibly Go Wrong’ is some superstar shit

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What Could Possibly Go Wrong, Columbia Records

“Call me what you want, when you want, if you want,” Dominic Fike stated in his breakthrough single “3 Nights.” Aloof, monotonous, and oh so cool, the single instantly shot the singer into the realm of artists to be born out of the Frank Ocean incubator.

Drawing inspiration from the likes of the aforementioned mogul and his group Odd Future, Fike is one of many contemporary artists to blend pop, rap, and R&B in a way that feels like what can only be described as Gen Z punk. It’s brash, rebellious, and manic.

This cocktail of carnage continues as it’s spread across the sporadic and emotional tracks on Fike’s debut album What Could Possibly Go Wrong. Dropping the question mark, the album title is less a question than a powerful statement of what, exactly, has gone wrong for Fike throughout the early years of his still steadily progressing career.

Thematically weaving together tales of toxic relationships, family and self destruction, the project is, for better or worse, a concise, raw glimpse into the mind of the Florida artist. It plays largely like demo tapes, with Fike adopting an often jarring blend of rock, rap, R&B and pop. Its a free flowing stream of consciousness, decidedly messy and intentionally imperfect.

Opening with “Come Here,” Fike doesn’t grip the listener so much as he forces their attention on him. Like The 1975’s “People” off their recent project Notes On A Conditional Form, it’s an urgent, impactful introduction to the project.

Fike’s self destruction continues most notably on tracks “Superstar Sh*t,” “Cancel Me” and “What’s For Dinner?” On the former, Fike outlines the ongoing loss of a relationship that directly resulted from his sudden success and the pitfalls associated with fame in the digital age. Doubled down by the production, Fike sounds like he’s literally underwater, trapped and drowning in a bottle of his demons.

On “What’s For Dinner?” Fike perpetuates this narrative, discussing his struggles with drugs and alcohol and its influence on his personal relationships. “I just got back from the gastroenterologist. He told me that I can’t drink, so now I be high and shit,” he concedes, disappointed.

“Cancel Me” combines this mental strife with the family theme. The stickiest track on the album, “Cancel Me” is one of the strongest singular statements Fike offers. It’s an often tongue and check declaration of his apathy towards the Hollywood machine. Not only that, it influences thoughts of nostalgia and longing for a past life outlined on “Good Game.”

With “Good Game,” Fike creatively adopts the perspective of his father. A slower, sunnier track, it illustrates the flawed, encouraging support from Fike’s father. More important, it’s a depiction of his father’s ploy to motivate Fike away from suffering a similar fate. The safety of the guitar riffs envelopes Fike as he smoothly delivers the goods, free from the corruption and fraught nature of the LA music scene.

Fike takes a play from the book of John Mayer for “Vampire,” drawing inspiration from Mayer’s “Neon” and “Vultures.” The track’s opening guitar riff is immediately reminiscent of the former, with the titular bloodsucking nature of LA culture lending itself to the latter’s lyricism. The track is an evidently tired metaphor only forgiven by Fike’s charismatic delivery and sticky vocals.

What Could Possibly Go Wrong also outlines the facets of Fike’s romantic life through the lens of several relationships. The brilliance of this comes in the dichotomy of tracks “Why” and “Chicken Tenders.” On “Why,” Fike challenges his partner to think more deeply on why she navigates her suffocating job, relationships and colleagues with such complacency.

“You ever wonder why?” he asks her.

That rumination quickly resolves into one of the album’s more positive tracks “Chicken Tenders.” Living lavishly in a hotel room, Fike outlines the gluttonous glee of constant food and sex within the solace of a private environment.

That euphoria is proven fleeting, as outlined on one of the final track “Wurli.” Coming in towards the finish line, this gem of a song is easy to overlook, but it features some of the most emotionally palpable lyricism on the album. Painting the portrait of a relationship where Fike lacks all control, it adds another layer to the album’s toxicity.

The only main pitfall of the record is its length. Many of the songs feel unfinished, leaving the listener dissatisfied and longing for more.

Perhaps it was never meant to be finished. Rather, it’s a choice on an album where no decision feels rushed or accidental. Listeners are put in the frame of mind of the artist behind the curtain, feeling exasperated, fleetingly thrilled, and emotionally effected.


Taylor Swift outdoes herself on ‘folklore’

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folklore, Republic Records

Taylor Swift wasn’t kidding when she exclaimed, “I promise that you’ll never find another like me!” The hook to her 2019 album Lover‘s laughably bad lead single, the statement has never reigned more true than it does today.

Gone is any trace of that pop star. In her place is a daring songwriter unafraid to explore the depths of her emotion and mastery of narrative.

On the eve of its release, Swift announced folklore, a 16 song collection of indie folk songs birthed from the imagination of an indefinitely quarantined Taylor Swift. In describing the album, Swift states, “I found myself not only writing my own stories, but also writing from the perspective of people I’ve never met, people I’ve known, or those I wish I hadn’t.”

This diversity of perspective and point of view enriches Swift in a way listeners have yet to hear. In reflecting on her own life, Swift thinks of a childhood friend with a difficult home life (“seven”), cloaks herself in a fable of a woman seeking vengeance on a town that has wronged her (“mad woman”), and celebrates unconditional love (“invisible string”).

Swift extends her talents beyond herself, applying her imagination to the folklore that aptly titles the record. Blurring the lines of history and fiction, Swift creates a trilogy of nostalgic tracks. These songs (“cardigan,” “august,” and “betty”) play with time and perspective, depicting a high school love triangle and its permanence in the memories of each party.

Further expanding the already quietly epic saga are songs alluding to history. On “the last great american dynasty,” Swift tells the story of Rebekah Harkness and her Holiday House, the Rhode Island mansion Swift would come to own. Like “mad woman,” Swift delicately sprinkles herself in the story, weaving her own mistakes into the fabric of Harkness’s life and story. Similarly, one of the most poignant moments on the record comes in “epiphany,” during which Swift pays homage to her grandfather while empathetically thinking of health workers working on a new kind of front line.

Much of the strength of folklore lays in the proof that overexposure and fame taint even the strongest of creative minds. In fact, the singer’s strongest musical statements were created from the privacy of her several homes across the globe. From reputation‘s “Delicate” to Lover‘s “Cornelia Street,” Swift has come into her own as a private person.

This newfound seclusion has really given Swift the necessary space to thrive in her exploration of the craft that brought her so much obsessive scrutiny and attention.

With folklore, Swift takes this isolation a step further, veiling once on the nose songwriting in freshly tinged metaphor. With the help of The National’s Aaron Dessner, longtime collaborator Jack Antonoff, and indie king Justin Vernon (Bon Iver), Swift begins again.

For the first time, Swift desolves beneath the surface of these stories. The music is no longer the diary of a naive suburban girl. This is a fully matured woman collecting scattered memories and stories, weaving them together in an intricate tapestry broadcasting the emotional spectrum. At its center, as it always is with Swift, is love.

This is an album Taylor herself needed to write, but the constraints of superstardom, pressures of pleasing the masses and those who dare lock her in a box prevented that, until now. Drawing inspiration from artists like Lana Del Rey (“cardigan,” “seven”) The Cranberrys (“august,” “mirrorball”), and sprinkles of her own past work (“Safe & Sound,” “Holy Ground”) Swift amplifies her songwriting. She shatters the magnifying glass that is the modern media’s exploitative infatuation with women in power.

In this deconstruction, Swift finally sheds the image she’s been running from since 2017’s reputation. With Lover acting as a necessary palette cleanser and closure to the pop chapter of the singer’s career, folklore is a new beginning in so many ways.

Many albums of this length, including some from Swift’s discography, unavoidably include a few duds. With this album, though, not a single song is worth skipping. While the final third of the album is noticeably slower, it only brightens the spotlight on Swift’s astonishing, unparalleled lyricism. Closing the album with “peace” and “hoax,” Swift challenges listeners to think of a better songwriter in the industry today, and they’ll likely struggle to muster one.

For anyone to doubt the limitless talents and constantly impressive metamorphosis of Taylor Swift at this point is as fleeting as the romance the singer relates on “august.” Unlike that subject matter, it will take more than a bottle of wine to sip away folklore.


Feature: Ambitious pop act Tamara is cookin in quarantine

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TMusic

From Fairfield, Connecticut, emerging talent Tamara has worked tirelessly to grow as an artist in today’s pop music landscape. The confident creator was brought up largely in New York City where she attended high school.

During her later years in school, Tamara’s passion became clear. Recording, writing, and collaborating with producers around the city, Tamara landed a spot in the coveted Bandier Program within the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications. Now a junior, Tamara continues to grow her sound and her network.

With dreams of continuing to master her sound and dip her toes in the production space, Tamara works to get to the next level after she finishes her degree next year. I had a chance to chat with the ever-evolving artist. We talked inspirations, goals, and what it means to be an artist in today’s industry.


UNSOLICITED: How has isolation been going for you so far?

Tamara: Worst question of the summer (laughs)! I just came back from a trip to Vermont about three days ago. My life was significantly different before I left. I had this online class I hadn’t started yet and when I came back things started picking up, but its a good thing.

U: How has the songwriting/recording process been throughout quarantine? 

T: Whether it’s in this time period or not, my creativity comes in waves. Obviously before COVID it was a lot easier to have access to recording, but I mostly write songs late at night during sad boy hours. What I write isn’t necessarily in that space, but when my night owl instincts come in I just go.

I record all my singles with my producer, Joey Auch, who lives in Brooklyn Heights, but I can’t see him right now. I have another friend, Lucas Dell’Abate, in Greenwich who has equipment – we go to my pool house and record from there. If you’re passionate about something, you make it work.

U: Who are some of your biggest musical inspirations?

T: Personally, I’m geared for pop music. The reason I’ve done some EDM and electropop is because I have a lot of friends in that space who I’ve been able to collaborate with.

In terms of inspirations, I love Charli XCX – how i’m feeling now has been on repeat. Another artist I’ve been inspired by is TS Graye. She’s inspired my sound through nostalgia. I exist in a space that’s half nostalgia, half bad bitch. I’m feeling nostalgic, but I’m not to be fucked with (laughs).

U: When did you first start to think about forming a career in music?

T: Junior year of high school. I had a huge epiphany during my sophomore year when I realized it would be really tough, but it was what I was supposed to do. I decided I couldn’t live my life going through a 9-5 and hating my life. From that moment forward I started working on technique to the point where I felt comfortable enough to go to my producer the next year.

I started working with my producer, and he’s kind of evolved with me. Whenever I have an idea but can’t articulate it, he catches my vibe and helps me continue to find my sound. Every time we go in and finish a session, I come back out more fulfilled.

U: What do you see as the pros and cons of the current music industry?

T: With this virus, the live music scene is definitely missed. The touring industry makes up so much of the revenue of this industry. There’s a lot of streaming happening, but there’s a difference from an audience’s perspective of going to a show vs streaming.

Overall, one great thing about the industry right now is the diversity of producers, more women behind the soundboard and seated at the table. We’re starting to tap into that network more. Another great thing is that artists have more time to be consistent. Normally everything is so on the go that now is a good time to step back and plan out music releases.

U: Where do you want your music to go, sonically and in audience growth?

T: Sonically, I work with my sound song by song. Every artist wants their numbers and audience to increase. Obviously my music connects to me because I’m the one writing it. I can’t sit down and force it to connect with somebody else.

The great thing about music is that there’s more than one aspect to listen to. If you don’t like the lyrics, maybe you’ll like the melody; if you don’t like the melody, maybe you’ll like the beat behind it. There are different aspects of a song that people can connect to.

Personally, I just want people to find one of these things to connect to in my songs. I don’t need you to relate to me. If you do, that’s great and I’m genuinely happy; but, my purpose on this Earth was not to people please. I just want my music to be out there in a way where people appreciate it and love it for what it is.

U: When you’re recording a song, do you think about what will resonate with a bigger audience? Are you surprised by what sticks vs. what doesn’t?

T: When I’m recording I don’t think about anyone else’s take. When I’m in the studio, I’m paying attention to how it sounds to me. I start to think in that space moreso after the song has been released.

I know, sonically, what’s more popular; but, that’s not always the take that I go for and I’m fine with that. I take a lot of pride in who I am as a person and my individuality. When I’m in the studio I don’t think about Top 40. I just go in there and its me. Sometimes it ends up sounding like Top 40, and sometimes it sounds like something different.

I’ve come a long way and I’m grateful for the people who have helped me and the program I’m in, but I still have a very long way to go. I credit my knowledge and my willingness to move forward to myself and to my program.


Skofee dazzles with debut single ‘Fantomlimb’

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“Fantomlimb” Sign From The Universe Entertainment

From Wichita, Kansas to Los Angeles, California, singer songwriter Skofee has developed a sound that feels accessible, unique, and above all, engaging.

Drawing inspiration from bluegrass and folk, Skofee has curated a sharp eye for storytelling over the years. More important, she has successfully honed in on the type of stories listeners crave to hear; nostalgic, pain soaked, and unfinished.

“I’m attracted to songs that admit fault and work through emotions in real time rather than presenting the conclusion wrapped up with a bow,” Skofee expressed. “It’s more interesting to be in the point of tension as a listener; the in-between.”

With her debut single, “Fantomlimb,” the artist drops listeners into this introspective limbo.

The song challenges pundits to clear space and make room for a new type of pop artist –one that forgoes gimmicks, instead applying her unfiltered insights into the world today. At their center is the duality of a feigned external self-assertion and the internal doubt quietly gnawing from within.

Acting as the pilot to her debut EP Polished out later this year, “Fantomlimb” is an acrobatic showcase of the already cultured 23-year-old singer’s talents. From her poignant pen to her proven vocal range, Skofee dazzles.

The single instantly transports the listener into a dreamy headspace through which their deepest feelings may roam wildly. Longing, emotional, tense – “Fantomlimb” is an incredibly impressive, self assured debut from an artist shockingly just beginning what is sure to become a fruitful career.

The track’s strengths lay in its universality. Injecting lush vocals only few can muster, Skofee relates the all too real feeling of longing for someone that isn’t emotionally present in a way they were in the past.

“Pretending you’re mine makes me selfish, but I could use some kind of peace of mind,” she coos.

Whether through the lens of romance or friendship, listeners can relate. They will easily lose themselves in the lyricism, made stronger by Skofee’s angelic delivery.

Underneath this delicate dispatch is a mid tempo electropop production from LA based alt-pop trio Moontower’s Devan Welsh. Accessible but not overbearing, Walsh’s contribution enriches the tune. The production slowly builds to its emotional climax, expertly crafting the tension surrounding the artist in the spotlight. The sound further evokes the feelings laid out in the lyrics, adding another layer through which the listener can feel the unbridled complexities of Skofee’s emotional process.

One of 5 new tracks to be featured on the Polished EP, “Fantomlimb” is only the beginning for the new artist. The string of experiences are tightly wrapped in theme and execution, providing listeners with just a taste of what’s to come from the artist in the near future.

“I wrote the songs [on Polished] as individual thoughts and linked their meanings after I had a collection I felt I could really stand behind,” Skofee explained. “My goal as a songwriter is to create concise moments for the listener to engage with, and I do feel that each song on the EP accomplishes a different moment.”

Polished drops September 21.


Chloe x Halle level up on ‘Ungodly Hour’

Chloe x Halle, Ungodly Hour
Ungodly Hour, Parkwood Entertainment

There’s a moment in the middle of Chloe x Halle’s stunning sophomore effort, Ungodly Hour, when their evolved personas really take shape. “When you don’t have to think about it, love me at the ungodly hour,” the duo coos on the title track.

Its this newfound confidence, self-assuredness and effortless cool that echoes throughout the immaculate 13-track collection. The duo has evolved as artists, women and performers – and this development shines as brightly as the chrome angel wings on the album’s artwork.

Drawing inspiration from modern and 80s Pop, throwback R&B, Hip Hop and elements of Blues, Chloe x Halle are able to refine the strongest sounds of their debut The Kids Are Alright and double down on what sets them apart from peers in their genre.

The album is instantly gripping with “Intro” and “Forgive Me,” establishing the two as strong, unapologetic, and independent. The openers immediately set the tone for a complete evolution.

The self-actualization continues on “Baby Girl,”  a tropically influenced mid tempo bop. More, the track is an internal pep talk to keep pushing and turning dreams into realities.

This narrative bleeds into the album’s second single, their most accessible track to date in “Do It.” Light, groovy, and lots of fun, “Do It” could be the breakout that shoots the duo to superstardom.

One of the strongest elements to the record is its cheeky attitude. It’s abundantly clear Chloe x Halle are having fun on several of these tracks. On “Tipsy,” the sisters playfully threaten their lovers with a fatal ultimatum. “If you love your little life, don’t fuck up,” they command.

On “Busy Boy,” the singers kiss off immature boys and their wandering, noncommittal attitudes. Both tracks lean heavily in the pop space, a perfect reflection of the lyrical tone of the songs.

“Ungodly Hour” is a well kept secret and pleasant surprise. Chloe x Halle enlist the help of Disclosure for production on the track, a well placed declaration of their worth.

Ironically, one of the weaker moments on Ungodly Hour comes in the some of the biggest collaborations. Mike WILL Made-It and Swae Lee visit to deliver “Catch Up,” the album’s decent but forgettable lead single. Its the rare moment on the record that feels overly pandering to an audience more than happy to sit back and hear the exclusive talents of the songstresses.

Arriving at “Overwhelmed,” one of the many stripped down vocal gymnastic interludes the women have made their signature, Chloe x Halle take the opportunity to be vulnerable. Maintaining the bounce of rest of the tracks, “Lonely” dives deeper with lyrics that are so intimate it feels as if Chloe x Halle are in the room with the listeners, comforting them with words of affirmation.

They turn the attention inward on the final moments of the album. “Don’t Make It Harder On Me” relates the complexity of being in a relationship when someone else grabs one’s attention. The song may have benefitted from a quieter production with the vocals taking up more of the spotlight, but it remains a gripping and vocally impressive inclusion to the track list.

“Wonder What She Thinks of Me” succeeds where “Harder on Me” falters. Halle’s vocals are astonishing, only further supplemented by the emotion delivered by Chloe. Their complementary sounds have never blended better than on this track.

What’s most brilliant about the record and the multi-talented Chloe x Halle is just that – their talent. Bringing together innovative production (“Tipsy”), unparalleled vocals (“Don’t Make it Harder On Me”) and nuanced songwriting (“Lonely”), the duo are unmatched in focus and consistency.

Ending with “ROYL,” Chloe x Halle remind the listener they are still the playful girls of The Kids Are Alright. Only now, they have scars and mistakes, and they are better for them.

“Watch out world, I’m grown now,” Chloe x Halle asserted on their debut. With Ungodly Hour, they prove it.


Gaga repairs her wings in ‘Chromatica’

What do you call a Mad Max themed gay club?

Chromatica.

"Chromatica," Lady Gaga
Chromatica, Interscope Records

A self-described dance record, Chromatica is extremely theatrical – an operatic symphony set to the best club soundscapes of the last few decades. Executive produced by BloodPop, the album is an extremely singular vision through which Gaga can fully execute her storytelling.

The record has a clear three-act structure, broken into segments by “Chromatica” interludes each setting the tone and providing delicious musical segues into each chapter. The story reveals itself to be one of redemption. In Act 1, Gaga seeks a love, fails, and is left to pick up the pieces. Act 2, specifically outstanding for the segue into “911,” tests her strengths and her grieving process, exposing moments of weakness and pain intercut with episodes of extreme confidence and progression. It isn’t until Act 3 when Gaga discovers her one true love: music. With the help of Elton John, whose personal narrative immaculately thematically aligns with the album’s story, Gaga expresses this.

Like many pop albums before it, when the flamboyance of Chromatica is stripped away, it is a classic tale of overcoming heartbreak. The point isn’t to tell an unfamiliar story – it rarely is in pop music. Instead, its to welcome the listener into a world of hope that transcends any sort of turmoil they are feeling.

Gaga and her producers’ ambition knows no bounds on Chromatica. The cohesive sound is impressively maintained throughout the album’s 16 tracks. This is as much an asset as it is a weak point. Several songs on the record build endurance only to be undercut by an underwhelming or trivial dance break.

Most prominently suffering from this anticlimax is “Rain On Me,” Gaga’s viral smash with Ariana Grande. Where it resonated with a public looking for hope and acceptance in an incredibly strange time, the track remains, well, not that good.

Like her duet with Elton John (“Sine From Above”), this collaboration utilizes the history of the guest artist to enrich the theme of the song. Anyone who knows Grande knows she has dealt with a lot in the past few years, not to mention her artistic imagery featuring rain and tear, and “Rain On Me” is a good fit because of this.

That said, the single suffers from a less than stellar chorus with the post chorus following suit.

Similar are later tracks “Enigma” and “Replay.” Featured in the album’s second act, the two songs encapsulate the duality of strength and weakness Gaga faced post breakup. In the context of the album, their presence is clear. As single tracks, both are easily forgotten.

Not all of the middle section of the album is like this, nor is the album generally. BLACKPINK lends a much needed injection of style and sleekness to the record, deepening Chromatica with the strongest club banger on the album. “Sour Candy” is a sultry, confident bop from a group of women expertly balancing their sex appeal and power.

Equally euphoric is solo standout “Free Woman.” One of the few tracks to reflect inward, it’s confident and one of the more danceable tunes on the album. The mode of communication Gaga utilizes here lyrically lays in subtext. What often appear as basic pop melodies are really layered insights into Gaga at this point in her life.

Another great example of this is the track “Plastic Doll.” Gaga fittingly uses the seasoned metaphor of the novel female pop artist – the plastic doll that everyone loves, for a time. She’s top shelf, meaning she can withstand the short attention spans and sexist career cycles of women in her genre. Underneath all of these appearances, though, is a deep sadness stemming from the broken-hearted insecurity within the artist.

While it has clear highlights, some of the record comes off painfully commercial. It’s a far cry from the “art pop” the singer has intended to be known for. Where albums Born This Way and The Fame had a lot to say under their glossy production, Chromatica does little to transcend the lived in heartbreak narrative. It lacks the edge that made her two strongest albums pop classics.

Chromatica closes with Gaga’s best “Vogue” impression under the pseudonym “Babylon.” Meant to close the album on a confident note, Madonna’s presence is palpable and impossible to ignore. If nothing more than slightly jarring, its enough fun to hear on the ride home from Chromatica.

At the end of it all, the record sounds exactly as expected. Fans of strobe swaying Gaga will lose it over the collection, while those looking for something new or innovative will shrug and move on as if they never heard the record.

In other words, Chromatica is for the Little Monsters turned Kindness Punks. For proof, see the type of merch Team Gaga is selling.