Netflix recently released an original documentary series called Hip-Hop Evolution. Already intrigued by this topic, I devoured the entire series in one evening.
Hip-hop and the spontaneous order of free markets are inseparable: a fact that was reinforced after watching the series. It was born out of the unregulated exchange of ideas. And it has become what is arguably the most organically libertarian musical genre existing today.
Hip-hop was built upon taking someone else’s art, putting your own spin on it, and creating something new. In other words, it is the antithesis of intellectual property.
The most obvious example of this free exchange of intellectual property is Grandmaster Flash. From a young age, Flash was obsessed with anything that spun: washing machines, bicycle wheels, and most of all, record players.
He began “scratching” by finding breaks within song tracks, a place where there was a natural pause in the music. He would then “spin” the record, making his own melodic remixes. Marking the exact spot where these breaks occurred on the record with a crayon, he would be able to remember where these breaks occurred while DJing in a dark club on the weekends.
By taking something someone else created and literally putting a “spin” on it, he created an entirely new genre of music.
So why exactly did the KLF set £1m on fire? It’s been a burning question for 23 years, as pop’s greatest provocateurs chose to let rumour, conjecture and myth around the publicity stunt – held on the Scottish island of Jura and ending their career on 23 August 1994 – swirl about unanswered for two decades. Until now.
The project formed by Bill Drummond and Jimmy Cauty in 1987, which has lain dormant in a self-imposed moratorium of 23 years, returned at 00.23am on the morning of Wednesday 23 August. As Drummond and Cauty drove into a backstreet of Liverpool in an ice-cream van to begin three days of events, their first new work – a trilogy of dystopian fiction, an “end of days story”, called 2023: A Trilogy – simultaneously dropped online.
Yet this is not a book for those looking for straightforward answers, and is as obtuse as the KLF themselves, who have published it under their other moniker, the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu. It is a multi-layered, self-referential meta tale, starting with two undertakers, Cauty and Drummond, who discover a life-changing book called 2023: A Trilogy on a hotel bookshelf. It was written by “George Orwell”, the pseudonym for one Roberta Antonia Wilson, 33 years ago. “What you are about to read is what they read – well almost,” reads the preface, adding that it has been translated from Ukrainian.
When Bob Marley died, on May 11, 1981, at the age of thirty-six, he did not leave behind a will. He had known that the end was near. Seven months earlier, he had collapsed while jogging in Central Park. Melanoma, which was first diagnosed in 1977 but left largely untreated, had spread throughout his body. According to Danny Sims, Marley’s manager at the time, a doctor at Sloan Kettering said that the singer had “more cancer in him than I’ve seen with a live human being.” As Sims recalled, the doctor estimated that Marley had just a few months to live, and that “he might as well go back out on the road and die there.”
Marley played his final show on September 23, 1980, in Pittsburgh. During the sound check, he sang Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” over and over. He asked a close friend to stay near the stage and watch him, in case anything happened. The remaining months of his life were an extended farewell, as he sought treatment, first in Miami and then in New York. Cindy Breakspeare, Marley’s main companion in the mid-seventies, remembered his famed dreadlocks becoming too heavy for his weakened frame. One night, she and a group of women in Marley’s orbit, including his wife, Rita (to whom he had remained married, despite it being years since they were faithful to one another), gathered to light candles, read passages from the Bible, and cut his dreadlocks off.
Drafting a will was probably the last thing on Marley’s mind as his body, which he had carefully maintained with long afternoons of soccer, rapidly broke down. Marley was a Rastafarian, subscribing to a millenarian, Afrocentric interpretation of Scripture that took hold in Jamaica in the nineteen-thirties. By conventional Western standards, the Rastafarian movement can seem both uncompromising (it espouses fairly conservative views on gender and requires a strict, all-natural diet) and appealingly lax (it has a communal ethos, which often involves liberal ritual use of marijuana). For Marley, dealing with his estate probably signified a surrender to the forces of Babylon, the metaphorical site of oppression and Western materialism that Rastas hope to escape. When he died, in Miami, his final words to his son Stephen were “Money can’t buy life.”
As a result of changes in how we consume media, music journalism is increasingly in flux. This unstable climate, The Quietus’ Luke Turner argues, has all but stamped out the flames of negative criticism. Who are critics writing for today, and why should they resist the suppression of honest reviews?
It’s a curious sensation to watch something you love being bludgeoned to death in front of you. I’d not want to do it to anyone’s cat, dog, or gerbil. But albums are a different matter and, at the moment, there’s not enough stomping going on. At The Quietus, the online music magazine I co-founded, I recently wrote a hatchet on risible trip-hop nostalgists Public Service Broadcasting for their dire LP Every Valley, a tacky and inept album that turns the collapse of the Welsh mining industry into a gin-in-a-jam-jar musical turn at a bunting-strewn village fête.
The online reaction was not merely people agreeing or disagreeing with what I’d written, but surprise that such a critical review had been published. Bootings are, it seems, becoming a thing of the past – a relic of the print music press of the 80s and 90s. This is a troubled time for music-focused editorial websites generally. It’s recently transpired that writers for MTV News – which had undergone a politicised makeover not long ago – had their editorial freedoms restricted after Chance the Rapper and Kings of Leon threatened to no longer work with the channel. A new “reshuffle” has seen many MTV writers get the axe, while Vice announced the end of its dance music portal Thump. In both cases, writers have been laid off to prioritise video content.
It had been a good few months for the gang at Musicland Studios. Deep in the bowels of the Arabella High-Rise Building in Munich’s Bogenhausen district, this pan-European collective of players had been a responsible for a string of hits that had turned disco on its head. Led by co-producers Giorgio Moroder and Pete Bellotte, this team had made a major breakthrough with the Donna Summer’s breathy hit ‘Love To Love You Baby’, which crossed over into the pop charts – but not before being banned by Radio 1 for being too sexy.
Donna Summer was one of a clique of itinerant musicians and performers who’d washed up in Munich at a time when the recording industry there was at its most vibrant. Originally a cast member of the hippie musical Hair in Germany, she swiftly established herself as an in-demand session singer. She was a popular part of the studio set-up. “We became good friends,” says Moroder, “She was an incredibly talented singer, who could improvise but was also very disciplined. As a person she was very funny.” According to Bellotte, one of the reasons she was easy to work with was her lack of interest in the recording process. “The whole time that we worked together there was never the slightest bit of friction. We were so lucky, because she wasn’t interested in the productions at all. So she’d come in the studio, usually at four o’clock in the afternoon, and would chat for hours. Then she’d look at her watch and say, ‘Oh I’ve gotta go!’ and she’d go into the studio and mostly sing it in one take – and be gone.”
The sessions for ‘I Remember Yesterday’, Donna’s fifth album, moved swiftly. “Everything happened so fast,” says Bellotte. “Our engineer Jürgen was fast, and the musicians were too. Albums evolved quickly, we never hung around. We were a working team and we just got on with it.” In stark contrast to their American and British label Casablanca Records, which appeared to be entirely fuelled by blizzards of cocaine, there was little excess going on in the Musicland Studios. Two of the team, Bellotte and engineer Jürgen Koppers, were tee-total, while Giorgio drank modest amounts. There were no drugs.
‘I Remember Yesterday’ was yet another concept album, cooked up by Bellotte and inspired by Anthony Powell’s novel A Dance to The Music Of Time (also the LP’s original title). Each song would evoke a different decade’s mood, from 40s swing to the 1960s with the Shirelles and Supremes, 70s funk and contemporary disco before alighting upon the future with the final track: ‘I Feel Love’.
[…] R. Kelly has sold nearly 60 million albums during his 25-year career, and though his relevance is fading somewhat from the heyday of “I Believe I Can Fly” and “Trapped in the Closet,” he remains a major star in high demand for concerts, endorsements, television and radio appearances, and glossy magazine profiles. When he’s not performing, Kelly splits his time between his suburban Atlanta home and Trump Tower in Chicago. Extensive interviews with Mack, Jones, and McGee and a review of legal documents by BuzzFeed News paint a picture of what Kelly’s life offstage is like today.
The women in Kelly’s entourage initially think “This is R. Kelly, I’m going to live a lavish lifestyle,” said Mack, who worked as Kelly’s personal assistant for a year and a half starting in 2013 and has remained in touch with some members of his inner circle. “No. You have to ask for food. You have to ask to go use the bathroom. … [Kelly] is a master at mind control. … He is a puppet master.”
Jones and McGee both said they lived with Kelly and had sexual relationships with the star at different times over the past five years before leaving. Their documentation of this time is limited, however, as they said Kelly controlled their phone and social media use while they were under his roof, and they were not allowed to take photos with Kelly or of the rooms where they were living.
According to Mack, Jones, and McGee, the women living in Kelly’s Duluth, Georgia, “guest house” or his Chicago recording studio last summer included:
- A 31-year-old “den mother” who “trained” newcomers on how Kelly liked to be pleasured sexually. She had been best friends since high school with the girl in the videotape for which Kelly was tried in 2008. She recently parted ways with Kelly, these sources say.
- A 25-year-old woman who also has been part of Kelly’s scene for seven years.
- A recent arrival, a 19-year-old model who has been photographed in public with Kelly and named on music gossip websites — a rarity among the women in his circle.
- An Atlanta songwriter who began her relationship with Kelly around 2009, when she was 19. (She is now 26.)
- And an 18-year-old singer from Polk County, Florida. Mack said the Florida singer is Kelly’s “favorite — his number-one girl.”
[…] Streaming’s impact on the way artists make music goes all the way to the top. Take Chris Brown, whose upcoming album Heartbreak on Full Moonhas 40 tracks, and not because he has so much to say. The famously unscrupulous pop star has found a way to boost his streaming numbers, which in turn inflate sale figures, and will, he hopes, send his album shooting up the charts quicker than it otherwise would.
Even Spotify is reportedly gaming the system by paying producers to produce songs that are then placed on the service’s massively popular playlists under the names of unknown, nonexistent artists. This upfront payment saves the company from writing fat streaming checks that come with that plum playlist placement, but tricks listeners into thinking the artists actually exist and limits the opportunities for real music-makers to make money. Spotify did not respond to questions about the accusation*, but this is not the first time Spotify, which pays minuscule streaming fees, has been accused of bilking artists.
A cynic might look at all of this and shrug his shoulders. Craven opportunism has been a part of the music industry since the first concert ticket was sold. But even if the money-grubbing isn’t new, the manner in which it’s grubbed is. And no matter who’s doing it, the effect is the same: Music is devalued.
I have always been a fan of the Eurovision Song Contest, the 62nd instalment of which takes place in Kiev on 13 May. At least I hope it takes place – this has been one of the more troubled stagings, with the hostility between Ukraine and Russia spilling over into a competition that is supposed to be an expression of European solidarity.
There is one qualification to my fandom: I don’t think I have ever managed to sit through the contest’s entirety, which these days runs to more than three hours. The bit I like is the judging, which usually occupies the last quarter of the show. That’s when the amities and enmities between the nations of Europe – the centuries-old frictions that have always tended to undermine the grand ambitions of the Eurovision project – come to the fore. Cyprus and Greece vote for each other; Belarus backs Russia; the Scandinavian and Balkan countries vote as a bloc; and over the last 20 years, as the UK has increasingly become the odd one out in the EU, no one has voted for us. It was all too much for Terry Wogan, whose mordant commentaries kept the contest afloat in the UK. He quit in 2008, complaining that the event was now about politics rather than music.
“A rockist is someone who reduces rock & roll to a caricature, then uses that caricature as a weapon. Rockism means idolizing the authentic old legend (or underground hero) while mocking the latest pop star; lionizing punk while barely tolerating disco; loving the live show and hating the music video; extolling the growling performer while hating the lip-syncher.”
Those are the words of Kelefa Sanneh, from a 2004 piece in the New York Times that served as a manifesto for poptimism, the belief that pop was being short-changed and needed to be defended. It rallied the lovers of pop against those who would dismiss music for not being, well, made by blokes with guitars. At that time, the strength and worth of Sanneh’s words was evident. That was a point at which music’s conversation was being dominated by whey-faced rock bands, by the postpunk revivalists coming out of New York and London, by earnest Canadians such as Broken Social Scene and Arcade Fire. It was the highpoint of indie rock’s supremacy, the days when the right trousers and a little bit of attitude could buy you a million great reviews, high slots on festival bills, and major label record deals.
That’s not the case now, of course, which is no bad thing. But has something else replaced rockism? Try turning around Sanneh’s sentences, and they make sense today, 13 years on, but with a very different meaning: “A poptimist is someone who reduces pop music to a caricature, then uses that caricature as a weapon. Poptimism means idolising the latest pop star while mocking the authentic old legend; lionising disco while barely tolerating punk; loving the music video and hating live performance; extolling the lip-syncher while hating the growling performer.”
A BBC documentary that was first aired in January 1975 covering David Bowie’s time in the U.S. during his Diamond Dogs tour. (BBC)
Jesse Jarnow on why Radiohead’s third album, OK Computer, was an instant classic from almost the day it was released on 21st May 1997. (Pitchfork)
- Exit Music: How Radiohead’s OK Computer Destroyed the Art-Pop Album in Order to Save It
- The Radiohead Prophesies: How OK Computer Predicted the Future
- A Thousand Feet Per Second: OK Computer’s Sublime Velocity
- Twelve Visual Artists Interpret the 12 Songs on Radiohead’s OK Computer
- An Airbag Saved My Life: Artists Reflect on OK Computer
“I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole,” admits Rosie Kay with a slightly wild giggle, as she describes the world of conspiracies, cults and celebrities that she has been exploring for her latest work. The choreographer has long been known for her brave and sometimes surprising choices, and for the depth of research she undertakes. She and her dancers spent weeks in training with the British army for 5 Soldiers, while for Sluts of Possession she worked with the School of Anthropology at Oxford, investigating tribal and spiritual ritual. None of her projects, though, have taken her into such alien territory as MK Ultra.
Named after the experiments in mind control that the CIA developed during the last century, Kay’s new show explores the phenomenon of the Illuminati, a shadowy cult believed to be on an elaborate mission of global domination, spreading its agenda through the brainwashing of prominent individuals in politics and the media.
Belief in the cult is particularly strong among young people, and when Kay first began hearing about it from the teenagers who came to her dance workshops, she discovered that pop stars are considered to be the Illuminati’s most targeted “recruits”. Groomed from a young age, singers like Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, Lindsay Lohan and Kanye West have supposedly been made agents of the Illuminati’s New World Order, their songs and videos carrying messages designed to subtly alter the public’s consciousness. According to Kay, “the under-25s now have a whole system for decoding the imagery of music videos, looking for symbols like thrones, butterflies, checkered floors and bird cages, to see if they’re carrying the cult’s message and to see which celebrities have been programmed”.
In 1999, the Roots were in limbo. The Philadelphia hip-hop band had released three critically acclaimed albums but were still considered something of a novelty act, featuring a big guy with a big Afro on drums (?uestlove), a sharp but unshowy MC (Black Thought), two beatboxers (Rahzel and Scratch), and a stellar live show—all anomalies in the gilded age of Puff Daddy and the million-dollar sample clearance. The Roots had by this time amassed a faithful cult following, but none of it translated to mainstream success. They were selling more records and slowly moving beyond their dedicated base of jazz and traditional rap purists, but their career wasn’t headed anywhere in particular.
Reflecting these tensions, the Roots opened their fourth studio album, Things Fall Apart, with dialogue from a scene from Spike Lee’s 1990 film, Mo’ Better Blues, in which characters Bleek Gilliam and Shadow Henderson—played by Denzel Washington and Wesley Snipes, respectively—debate the state of jazz music. Gilliam doesn’t want to sacrifice his creative vision to pander to crowds, and he thinks black people should come to his shows simply because he’s making black art. “That’s bullshit,” Henderson quips. “The people don’t come because you grandiose motherfuckers don’t play shit that they like.” The clip seemed to acknowledge the Roots’ reputation: They were too smart for their own good, too self-aware, and they were getting in their own way. It was as if, from the very beginning, the band sought to be misunderstood, to find somewhere to hide from the mainstream.
Anthony Fantano responds to Paul Joseph Watson’s latest video The Truth About Popular Culture, saying that he makes some of the dumbest assertions about pop culture and contemporary music. Watson has since posted a video titled: Conservatism is the NEW Counter-Culture. (The Needle Drop)
2016 was another pretty good year for music. Here’s a list of our favourite albums, EP’s and other releases from the past 12 months. Let’s hope 2017 is even better. Happy New Year!
Albums of the Year…
- A Tribe Called Quest – We Got This… Thank You 4 Your Service
- BADBADNOTGOOD – IV
- case / lang / viers – case / lang / viers
- Cavern of Anti-Matter – Void Beats-Invocation Trex
- Colin Stetson – Sorrow
- Common – Black America Again
- David Bowie – Blackstar
- Death Grips – Bottomless Pit
- Emma Pollock – In Search of Harperfield
- Esperanza Spalding – Emily’s D+Evolution
- Ian William Craig – Centres
- isvisible – xxiv
- Kadhja Bonet – The Visitor
- Lambchop – FLOTUS
- Mogwai – Atomic
- NAO – For All We Know
- Noname – Telefone
- Radiohead – A Moon Shaped Pool
- Solange – A Seat at the Table
- Swans – The Glowing Man
- The Caretaker – Everywhere at the end of time
Best of the Rest…
- Anderson .Paak – Malibu
- Bat For Lashes – Bride
- Cat Le Bon – Crab Day
- Deerhoof – The Magic
- DIIV – Is The Is Are
- Iggy Pop – Post Pop Depression
- Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith – EARS
- Katie Dey – Flood Network*
- KA – Honor Killed The Samurai
- Kikagaku Moyo – House in the Tall Grass
- KING – We Are KING
- Lorn – Vessel
- Magic Magic – TV Life
- Nicolas Jaar – Sirens
- Saul Williams – MartyrLoserKing
- Soccer96 – As Above So Below
- Ultimate Painting – Dusk
- Wild Nothing – Life of Pause
- Xiu Xiu – Plays the Music of Twin Peaks
- Young Romance – Another’s Blood
EPs of the Year…
- Massive Attack – Ritual Spirit
- Nine Inch Nails – Not Actual Events
- Seanh – Sadevillain EP
- serpentwithfeet – blisters
Compilations and Live Albums…
- Air – Twentyears
- Kate Bush – Before The Dawn
- King Crimson – Radical Action (To Unseat the Hold of Monkey Mind)
- Placebo – A Place for Us to Dream
- Sun Ra – Singles: The Definitive 45s Collection
- Ulver – ATGCLVLSSCAP
- Various Artists – Still in a Dream: A Story of Shoegaze 1988-1995
Ones to Watch in 2017
- Kadhja Bonet
President-elect Donald Trump’s team is struggling so hard to book A-list performers for his inaugural festivities that it offered ambassadorships to at least two talent bookers if they could deliver marquee names, the bookers told TheWrap.
The bookers, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, said they were approached by members of Trump’s Presidential Inaugural Committee in recent weeks with offers of cash or even plush diplomatic posts in exchange for locking in singers.
The first insider said he was “shocked” at the proposal: “Never in a million years have I heard something so crazy,” he said. “That was the moment I almost dropped the phone.”
- We The People… by A Tribe Called Quest
- Black America Again by Common ft. Stevie Wonder
- Talk To Me by Run The Jewels
- Way We Won’t by Grandaddy
- Dead Alive by The Shins
- Hello Meow by Squarepusher
- New Wave by Common featuring Laetitia Sadier
- Keeping U In Line by Ex Reyes
- Beat and the Pulse by Austra
- Your Best American Girl by Mitski
- Creeping by Obongjayar
- Innocent Love by Oliver Coates
- Jarabi by Sona Jobarteh
- Nobody Other by Kadhja Bonet
- Dreams by Kelsey Lu
- 2100 by Run The Jewels ft. Boots
- Get By by Talib Kweli
- Mountain Game by Animal Collective
- four ethers by serpentwithfeet
- Youth Against Fascism by Sonic Youth
- Cracks by Young Romance
- Megadrive Lamborghini by Soccer96
- Sea And Satellite by Convextion
- Crybaby by Abra
- Sweet Dreams From A Shade by Biosphere
- Lying Has To Stop by Soft Hair
- It’s just a burning memory by The Caretaker
- Central Nervous Sister by Outer Order featuring Eartheater
- Waiting For L by Youandewan
- Heaven by Emma Ruth Rundle
- Hating Is Easy by Cassels
- sweet chin music (the fisher king’s anthem) by milo
- Bangers + Mash by Radiohead
- Disappear by Young Romance
- No Love by Death Grips
- Church / Liquor Store by Saba featuring Noname
- Killing a Little Time by David Bowie
- The Mysteries by David Bowie
- The Hustle by Lambchop
- Up With People by Lambchop (Zero 7 Remix)
- Loveless by My Bloody Valentine (Andrew Weatherall Remix)
- Hardcore Vibes by Dune
- Wizards Of The Sonic by Westbam
- Waiting for the Man by The Velvet Underground
- It’s Halloween by The Shaggs
- Halloween: Main Theme by John Carpenter
Afshin Rattansi speaks to writer, broadcaster and cultural critic Paul Morley about how David Bowie made a world of difference. (Going Underground)
- Fleas by Katie Dey
- The Hustle by Lambchop
- Spiders (Kidsmoke) by Wilco
- Southern Point by Grizzly Bear
- We Came Through by Scott Walker
- Wave by Oscar Peterson
- See You by Dinosaur Jr.
- California by Soccer96
- Nove by dystopian future movies
- My Lies by MOTHER
- Miami Spider by Gallops
- Sugarcrush by Joanna Gruesome
- Mathematics by Mos Def
- Diddy Bop by Noname feat. Raury & Cam O’bi
- Nikes by Frank Ocean
- Stakes Is High by De La Soul
- They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.) by Pete Rock & CL Smooth
- Sound of Da Police by KRS One
- Speak Softly, Love by Andy Williams
- Oscillations by Silver Apples
- Tunnel by Minami Deutsch
- Moon by Prairie WWWW
- (I’ve Got The) Sanctioned Blues by Ultimate Painting
- Innocent Love by Oliver Coates
- Anvil by Lorn
- Blood-Drums by Cavern of Anti-Matter
- Revolutionary Sister by The Veldt
- Yes by McAlmont and Butler
Two decades after his death on September 13, 1996, Tupac Shakur endures as one of hip-hop’s most iconic figures and its most powerful enigma. His life was a tapestry of often contradictory images: the concerned young father cradling his son in the video for “Keep Ya Head Up”; the angry rapper spitting at cameras as they swirled around his 1994 trial for sexual assault; the artist who animatedly, yet eloquently, pushed back at Ed Gordon’s questions during a memorable BET interview; and the man who seemed to predict his own demise when the “I Ain’t Mad at Cha” video, released weeks after his death, depicted him as an angel in heaven.
Although he is no longer with us, the myth of 2Pac the thug angel remains. No other artist better illuminates hip-hop’s fault lines between regional pride and mainstream success, and the struggle to transcend and elevate beyond humble origins while honoring the streets that raised you. His wayward, conflicting expressions of pride, militancy and gangster-ism resonates in a world when black men and women celebrate their heritage and collectively organize against a racist America, yet are also cautious to protect themselves from each other.
Fans – particularly East Coast rap listeners who, after all these years, still harbor a grudge against him – will continue to debate whether 2Pac’s albums can measure up to Nas’ Illmatic, the Notorious B.I.G.’s Ready to Die, or Jay Z’sReasonable Doubt. But no one can deny the way he transformed hip-hop into his singularly muscular, tattooed, bald-headed, bandana-clad image.
Robert ‘3D’ Del Naja, the founding member of the Bristol band, has been accused of being the guerrilla graffiti star because art keeps appearing near their gigs.
In 2008 former public schoolboy Robin Gunningham was named as Banksy by the Mail on Sunday – and scientists analysing his work also believe it is him.
But now investigative journalist Craig Williams, 31, claims the artist could be Mr Del Naja, or perhaps a team of people led by him and linked to Massive Attack who combine their concerts with graffiti.
Mr Williams has plotted Banksy murals around the world and said that on at least six occasions more than a dozen appeared shortly before or after Massive Attack gigs in the same cities over the past 12 years.
3D was a graffiti artist in the 1980s and has admitted he is friends with Banksy – but the journalist’s new research concludes he may be the artist himself.
- Waiting Room by Fugazi
- Dead Bodies by Air
- Promises of Fertility by Huerco S.
- Arthropoda by Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith
- Bus Ride by Kaytranada (feat. Karriem Riggins and River Tiber)
- Hey (Extended Mix) by KING
- Gone Clear by William Tyler
- Avocet by Bert Jansch
- Fire by Lizzy Mercier Descloux
- Number One Song In Heaven by Sparks
- Trimm Trab by Blur
- Impotence by The Wilde Flowers
- 09. [Untitled Track] by Nuno Canavarro
- Gloria by Them
- The Fallen by Franz Ferdinand
- Le Temps de l’Amour by Françoise Hardy
- Do You Remember? by Linda Sharrock
- Unflesh (Carter Tutti Remix) by Gazelle Twin
- Arthropoda by Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith
- Winter Morning I by Woodkid & Nils Frahm
- Gz and Hustlas by Snoop Dogg
- Inhale Exhale by NAO
- Gas Drawls by MF Doom
- Celestial Creatures by Wild Beasts
- End Come Too Soon by Wild Beasts
- More Than A Fairy by Death Grips feat. Les Claypool
- Nattesferd by Kvelertak
- No Star by Greys
- Dorothy by Kevin Morby
- It Hurts Until It Doesn’t by Mothers
- Your Best American Girl by Mitski
- Radio Silence by James Blake
- Dollar Days by David Bowie
- Doing It To Death by The Kills
- Christine by Christine and the Queens
- Backtail Was Heavy by Lone
- Terminator by Metalheads
- Durban Poison by Babylon Timewarp
- Tales from the Darkside by Tango and Ratty
- Lord of the Null Lines by Hyper On Experience
- Poison by The Prodigy
- This Kind of Dying by Lemon Kittens
- Rock In The Sky by Universe
- Person by OH-OK
- Watercolour Guitars by The Fireman
- Bison by The Firemen
- Nobody’s Fault But Mine by Blind Willie Johnson
- Kelly Watch The Stars by Air
- Hope Reset by Katie Dey
- Love Will Tear Us Apart (Cover) by Swans
- Oxygen by Swans
- When Will I Return by Swans
- The Queen Is Dead [Live] by The Smiths
- Criminals of the Dream by Deerhoof
[…] Fentanyl is a synthetic opioid — its chemical name is the tongue-twisting N-phenyl-N-[1-(2 phenylethyl)-4-piperidinyl] monohydrochloride — that was first formulated during the 1950s as a safer and more effective alternative to the painkillers morphine and meperidine.
Its creators at the Belgian drug company Janssen Pharmaceutica got the “more effective” part right.
Fentanyl is the strongest opioid approved for medical use in the United States, rated as 50 to 100 times more potent than morphine and 30 to 50 times more potent than heroin, according to the National Institute for Drug Abuse.
It’s the go-to drug to dull the crippling, otherwise-untouchable pain experienced by many patients with advanced cancer.
The safety part of the equation is another matter.
- Giving Bad People Good Ideas by Death Grips
- Eh by Death Grips
- Burn The Witch by Radiohead
- Daydreaming by Radiohead
- Another World by Antony and the Johnsons
- Blind by Hercules & Love affair feat. Antony Hegarty
- Obaa Sima by Ata Kak
- Fantastic Man by William Oneyeabor
- Sho Nuff by De La Soul
- Okie From Muskogee by Merle Haggard
- Best Kept Secret by case/lang/veirs
- Dawn in Luxor by Shabazz Palaces
- Yeah You by Shabazz Palaces
- Come Up and Get Me by Death Grips
- Never Catch Me by Flying Lotus feat. Kendrick Lamar
- Drone Bomb Me by ANOHNI
- Plastic Plant by Thee Oh Sees
- When Will I Return by Swans
- Female Vampire by Jenny Hval
- Backtail Was Heavy by Lone
- Unforgiving Girl (She’s Not An) by Car Seat Headrest
- End Come Too Soon by Wild Beasts
- Kowalski by Primal Scream
- And This Is What We Call Progress by The Besnard Lakes
- Bitterness Centrifuge by Mogwai
- Chernobyl Rain by The Invisible Opera Company of Tibet
- Good Lava by Esperanza Spalding
- One by Esperanza Spalding
- Stand Tall by Ice Cube
- Kembali Ke Jakarta by Dewi Yull
- Baikal Acid by Khotin
- outdated (stadium) by more eaze
- We’ve Got The Jazzy Belle by A Tribe Called Kast (Mixed by Nappy DJ Needles)
- Doing It To Death by The Kills
- Philosophy of the World by The Shaggs
- Loch Raven by Animal Collective
- What Would I Want? (Sky) by Animal Collective
- Rain/Daffodils by Foals
- Origami by Lush
- Kandiyohi by Boreal Network
- The Rest of Us by Colin Stetson
- Saturn by Sun Ra
- Nuclear War by Sun Ra
- The Night of The Purple Moon by Sun Ra
- No Worries Gonna Find Us by Plants and Animals
- Still In Love by Cellars
- I Have Been To The Mountain by Kevin Morby
- Nakamarra by Hiatus Kaiyote
- Shaolin Monk Motherfunk by Hiatus Kaiyote
- Let’s Go Crazy by Prince
- Sign O’ The Times by Prince
- 1999 by Prince
Scientists now believe that language and music co-evolved to simulate the most abiding truths of nature. Indeed, for as long as we’ve been able to articulate the human experience, we’ve made music about the most inarticulable parts of it and then used language to extol music’s power — nowhere more beautifully than in Aldous Huxley’s 1931 meditation on how music stirs the soul, in which he asserted that music’s greatest potency lies in expressing the inexpressible.
This, perhaps, is why music is so sublime a solace when it comes to the most inexpressible of human emotions: grief.
Lesser, who doesn’t consider herself “a particularly musical person,” contemplates the way in which music bypasses the intellect and speaks straight to the unguarded heart.
- How Repetition Enchants the Brain and the Psychology of Why We Love It in Music
- Aldous Huxley on the Transcendent Power of Music and Why It Sings to Our Souls
- How Music and Language Mimicked Nature to Evolve Us
- 7 Essential Books on Music, Emotion, and the Brain
- How music helps children to deal with bereavement
- Great Writers on the Power of Music
- How Music Works
It seems strange to relate now, but in the early years of Prince Rogers Nelson’s career, there were voices that doubted whether he would ever be truly successful.
He was clearly exceptionally talented and possessed a vision for his music that bordered on obstinacy: not only had he produced, arranged, performed every instrument and composed all but one song on his 1978 debut album For You, he had also somehow contrived to get a record contract with Warner Brothers that entitled him to complete artistic control, almost unheard of for a new artist.
But he was also a strange, shy, awkward figure, apparently unwilling to play the promotional game. His interviews were almost wilfully unrevealing; an early appearance on that venerable US music TV institution American Bandstand was such a disaster that host Dick Clark later claimed Prince was the most difficult artist he’d ever encountered on the show. How could anyone so apparently unwilling to play the game ever hope to make it?
As it turned out, Prince knew exactly what he was doing, even when it looked like he had no idea. The way he behaved as his career began in the late 70s would set a pattern for the rest of his life.
He was, if anything, even more lavishly talented than the credit that claimed he’d played 27 different instruments on For You suggested. He went on to make umpteen albums in a myriad of music styles: he could, it appeared, do everything from rock to funk to jazz to psychedelia.
Some of the albums were better than others – his output was so torrential that not even he could completely maintain his quality control – but whatever they sounded like, they always sounded like Prince. And he was infinitely more obstinate than that first recording contract made him appear. For the best part of 40 years, he conducted his career according to a whimsical internal logic that seemed to baffle even his closest collaborators.
- Prince: ‘the music flowed out in an unstoppable torrent’
- How Prince stayed so private in the age of celebrity
- Prince set to top UK singles and albums charts
- Fears raised over what will happen to Prince’s songs
- The rearview mirror rehinged: how Prince’s early years formed his legend
- The World Mourns Death of Gender-Bending Music Legend Prince
- One of a kind: How Prince broke all of pop’s rules and became an icon
- Life and Death in the Purple Box: Prince, What Happened?
- Prince’s Alleged Anti-Gay Stance Is Baffling, For Good Reason
- How One Small Religion Changed Prince
- What Prince Tells Us About Mega-Obituaries
- Music Icon Prince Dead At 57
- Prince – Wikipedia