There’s something special about a strong connection between a band and their hometown fans, and no show could have demonstrated this better than Guster’s show at House of Blues January 19th. The four-piece group includes Ryan Miller, Brian Rosenworcel, Adam Gardner, and Luke Reynolds, and as soon as they came out on stage, they showed that they wanted the audience to have a special experience. They opened, as they often do, with a completely unplugged, zero-mics version of “Jesus on the Radio.” I was concerned about how everyone in the venue would hear them, but thanks to the crowd knowing almost all the words—something the band clearly anticipated—that was a non-issue. It’s a warm song, especially when being sung by a couple thousand delighted fans, and it made for a nice contrast to the snow flurries we’d stood in before entering, as well as a very positive start to what would be an all-around enjoyable show.

The third song of the night was the first off of Guster’s brand new record 

, released the day before their Boston show. “Terrified” is a fun, pick-me-up song, despite the somewhat existential lyrics (“Sometimes I feel like a cog in the machine/ But not forever, nothing is forever/ Soon we’ll all be gobbled by the stars stars stars stars stars stars stars stars”).

Guster also showed off some of their fancy new stage lights, to great effect. During another new song, “Hello Mr. Sun,” the lights gradually started to form a vivid rainbow shining up behind the band, and there was some effectively arresting use of strobes on “Mind Kontrol.”

The band’s lead vocalist, Ryan Miller, along with the rest of the band, helped to cultivate a very light, playful atmosphere, treating the crowd like old friends. After ending “Homecoming King,” the band launched into a few measures of the classic “Chariots of Fire.” Later on, they started singing an impromptu “Giant Brian” song after being offered a, well, giant Brian head from a front row fan. They also shamelessly donned big goofy rainbow hats for the ending of “Hello Mr. Sun” (accompanied by big rainbow stage lighting). If you couldn’t already tell, Guster never stopped throwing in unexpected little pieces of fun for both them and the audience.

Many Guster fans have been with the group for a while, evidenced not only by the audience participation but also by the large organized fan group on Facebook called the 

—a head member was standing behind the boards helping Guster’s management live stream the show. The sense of community I got from the fans’ online presence translated to the live show, with most people attending in groups, and often running into others whom they were very excited to see.

For me, there was a bit of a lull between the halfway point and the encore, but that was probably because I’m not a Guster fan, since most of the crowd was happily singing along to every song, new and old. Amongst all the fun there was a hint of disorganization, not sure if that was due to Ryan having a bit too much fun or an unusual set list, but the encore was a great culmination of the night’s energy, very warm and familiar, a welcome contrast to the blizzard going on outside. Great lighting, great sound, fun fans, and a playful band all made for a great night full of much needed positive energy!

Guster appeals to local avid fanbase at House of Blues

In 2017, David Longstreth of Dirty Projectors gave us a bitter, emotionally wrenching record with the band’s self-titled ninth LP. This year, with 

, he’s retained some elements from the previous record, but partially returned to form with a much more cheerful feel and material that will be far more comfortable for 

 fans. While the record is certainly decent and very enjoyable, it lacks the consistency that either of the last two LPs had, with a noticeable drop almost exactly halfway through the album.

The first track, ‘Right Now,’ is a nearly perfect introduction to the album, making the mix of old and new Dirty Projectors – and the happier mood – evident right off the bat. Syd of 

 is featured, albeit with a slightly disappointingly small role. The beginning is quite simple, with just Longstreth’s elegant voice and pared-down guitar as lighthearted piano and blaring brass are added in. On the chorus, Syd’s voice cools down the tension created by Longstreth’s slightly strained singing, and 808 triplets with mild electronic vocal effects give the hook a more updated feel than the first parts of the song. Some lyrics are surprisingly dark at times (“The sky has darkened, earth turned to hell” … “I don’t know how I’m going to be a better man”), but are offset by a sort of hopefulness in others (“I don’t know how I’m going to get you to take my hand / But I’m going to try and I know when” … “There was silence in my heart / And now I’m striking up the band”). Some of the sadness of the previous record remains, but overall we’re being pulled towards a happier Dirty Projectors, both in the song and on the record as a whole.

One of my personal highlights is the second track, ‘Break Thru,’ with pleasantly harsh synth blares interrupting the charming light guitar. With lyrics so millennial that I have to believe they’re self-aware (“Just hanging out all Julian Casablancas” … “But she keeps it 100 in the shade”), it’s a fun and attention-grabbing summer song. The mixed-too-loud synth, which completely cuts off the guitar as the verses begin, lends a sense of urgency and discomfort that satisfyingly contrasts with the rest of the song, which, on its own, might have risked being cloying.

After the peppy ‘I Feel Energy,’ a funky feel-good tune with backing percussion reminiscent of Marvin Gaye’s ‘

’ and very sweet vocals from Amber Mark, and the head-banger ‘Zombie Conqueror,’ with Led Zeppelin-esque folky guitar and celestial harmonies from Empress Of, the album takes a noticeable dive in energy. Aside from the fun but stressfully frenetic ‘I Found It In U,’ the second half of the album feels very slow and redundant. To be fair, there was not a track on the album that I thought wasn’t at least decent, and I’d even say that any of the tracks are quite good as standalones. However, with a long string of pretty, mellow tracks (‘Blue Bird,’ ‘What Is The Time,’ ‘You’re The One,’ ‘(I Wanna) Feel It All’), they all start to blur together to create a noticeably less interesting listening experience than the first half of the album

 The very last track, ‘(I Wanna) Feel It All’ is probably the quietest of all, making the album almost fade out rather than have a solid end, which would have been much more intriguing had I not become jaded by all the slow songs that preceded it.

Despite the frustrating drop-off halfway through 

, it’s still a great collection of tracks. Longstreth continues to show his artistic ability both through himself and through his tastefully curated feature list. After the emotional black abyss that was the previous record, it’s incredibly satisfying and 

 to experience Longstreth and Dirty Projectors blooming once again. Give it a listen, but maybe put the record on shuffle the second time around to fully enjoy the songs further down the track list.

Dirty Projectors release full-length ‘Lamp Lit Prose’

 is good because it’s Kanye, but it isn’t great Kanye. Meaning, everything Kanye makes has a pretty decent level of quality because he is without a doubt extremely talented, but relative to the other work he’s has released, 

 really isn’t anything musically special. In his eighth studio album, there seems to be some understanding Kanye has gained that, no matter what he does, as long as he gives us a few decent, decidedly 

 beats, all will be forgiven. This has been proven true in part, although at this point it’s clear that the lack of effort has not gone unnoticed, even for some of his hardcore fans.

 at TMZ (which most notably included his comment about slavery sounding like a “choice”), and he was even 

 the day of his Wyoming listening party. Unfortunately for him, he did not overcome that self-imposed time crunch to make something really worthwhile. In reality, the best thing 

 has going for it is its role as a potential time capsule, a moment of Kanye’s life and career solidified into something tangible. That’s 

 at its best—at its worst, it’s a mediocre, small collection of songs with some semblance of a voice, but nothing to anchor it.

 are tracks ‘I Thought About Killing You’ and ‘Ghost Towns,’ which almost bookend the album. The former starts with a calm, beautiful, and almost spiritual-sounding backing track, juxtaposed with extremely arresting lyrics (“And I think about killing myself / And I love myself way more than I love you, so… / Today I thought about killing you, premeditated murder). On this song, Kanye seems to want to immediately and concretely address his bipolar nature, with some of his widely beloved self-aware egotism. With a little over a minute left in the song, the beat switches to a more discomforting one, with dissonant qualities and a repeated scream; along with the beat, the lyrics also switch to a more classic rap style, complete with self-praise and disses, although, similar to a lot of the verses on 

, the bars really aren’t anything to write home about.

‘Ghost Towns’ features a great beat, with vintage soul samples as well as full-sounding distorted guitar reminiscent of the ending of ‘Hold My Liquor’ on 

. It’s one of the more emotionally raw songs on the album, with Kid Cudi singing a classically sad hook (“I’ve been trying to make you love me / But everything I try just takes you further from me”). Kanye gets as close to self-deprecating as is perhaps possible for him, singing “Sometimes I take all the shine / Talk like I drank all the wine / Years ahead but way behind.” Funnily enough, despite this being the track that Kanye was still finishing the day of the listening party, it sounds more put-together than several other songs on the album. New Def Jam recruit 070 Shake sings a repeated phrase in the outro, ending with “And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free.” This could be referencing the struggle with opioid addiction Kanye very publicly admitted to going through, or perhaps the results of his embrace of “free thinking,” but it does have quite a beautiful and relaxing sound to it, although certainly tinged with a kind of vague sorrow.

The album’s low points are seen essentially throughout the remaining 5 songs on 

 Each song has its good own good qualities, but none of them are solidly great songs. Sexism and misogyny show through the cracks in ‘Violent Crimes,’ an ode to his daughters about how fatherhood has changed his view on women. Despite the possible good intentions, Kanye manages to proactively objectify his own wife and daughters’ bodies while expressing his worries and protective feelings about them (“Don’t do yoga, don’t do pilates / Just play piano and stick to karate / I pray your body’s draped more like mine / And not like your mommy’s”). ‘All Mine’ is a sexually-charged song with the currently popular style of mumbling auto-tune in the chorus, and is, I suppose, a fun song – one of the bigger contenders for the title of a “summer jam” – but is so sparse and soulless that I’m not sure it can reach that status.

‘Wouldn’t Leave’ is one of the more interesting tracks, perhaps the third best, but it feels the entire time to be stretching its arms towards real meaningfulness but never reaching it. Kanye directly references two of his most viral moments, the previously-mentioned slavery comment and his “How, Sway?” 

, and adds “Just imagine if they caught me on a wild day.” He’s using his famous “craziness” to almost tease the audience into wanting more, but my immediate response to that line is: well, let’s see it, Kanye. What would you 

 do on a “wild day?” Because whatever it is, it would probably get you even more attention… so why hold back? This leads me to think that maybe there isn’t anything more that he’s holding back, just the threat— or promise, maybe —of being more crazy, more wild, more out of control, that he needs to maintain in order to keep us coming back. This is what, ultimately, 

 felt like to me: Kanye has nothing more to give us right now in the midst of dealing with his own internal conflicts, so he reverted back to tired themes hoping his audience wouldn’t notice the lack of passion behind his words. Many haven’t, or maybe they just don’t care because it’s Kanye, but once I realized that, 

 lost virtually all meaning or usefulness in my eyes, especially when I really needed it to be something special in order to at all overshadow the disappointment I and many other fans have experienced over the past few months. At a moment when Kanye most needed it to, 

Kanye West releases full-length ‘ye’

, Julian Casablancas’ named has been erased from the band —but the music has it written all over it. Almost ten years ago, Casablancas released his first solo album, 

, which was full of synths and new wave influences. It was the first time we saw that he had slightly weirder tendencies, perhaps, than what he released with The Strokes, but also that he has a deep appreciation for pop. Five years later, Julian Casablancas + The Voidz released the rough, experimental 

, an album that featured Casablancas completely letting go of any concern for what would sound normal or poppy, and basically just going crazy (in the best way possible).

, the Voidz – having “initiated” Julian Casablancas and absorbed his name into theirs – have released 

, and the difference in the name is actually a good indicator of the differences between the two albums. As someone who has a pretty deep love and appreciation for all of Casablancas’ music, I can say with confidence that this record is decidedly, 

 Julian. One of my favorite things about it is that it sounds like a marriage of all of the eras of Julian’s artistic identity: The Strokes, his earlier solo work, and his most recent work with the Voidz. No, the album isn’t as consistent, concise, or cohesive as it could be, and the songs aren’t without fault; but we do without a doubt get a ton of creativity and variety on 

, with a comfortable mix of nostalgia and newness.

As soon as the first track ‘Leave It In My Dreams’ started, I felt like I was at home, as a lifelong fan of The Strokes. Upon hearing the sweet, high-register guitar of the intro, there is no denying its inspiration from Julian’s past work. It’s an approachable, psychedelic indie pop song, which is already a departure from the previous album. In the first verse, Julian sings, “Don’t overthink it,” which may be a good representation of why 

. It has the same rawness and strangeness that Casablancas seems to crave in his newest music, but has been reined in significantly more than its predecessor.

‘QYURRYUS,’ the second track, is a slightly ominous-sounding “Cyber-Arabic-Prison-Jazz” song, as described by the Voidz themselves. In theory, it shouldn’t be good, with its droning synth bass, screechy guitar, and gratuitous auto-tune vocal solos. But somehow, the end product is extremely intriguing, slightly mysterious, and keeps pulling you back for another listen. The third track, ‘Pyramid of Bones,’ brings some of the band’s politics into focus, with lyrics like “Murder in the name of national security,” and “Don’t you ever listen to the white man’s lies,” set to head-banging guitar and drums in the chorus. ‘All Wordz Are Made Up’ comes at the album’s halfway point, and is one of the best tracks on the album. It’s unexpectedly upbeat and fun, with funky, tropical percussion and rich synths juxtaposed with odd robotic harmonized vocals. It has elements of lots of different genres and time periods, and blends them all remarkably successfully.

 hits a definite lull a little after the halfway point, with a much higher concentration of “okay” songs than ones that I loved. ‘My Friend The Walls’ and ‘Pink Ocean’ are mostly downers, with not enough dynamics to redeem their sadness, save for the former’s slightly catchy chorus. ‘Black Hole’ and ‘We’re Where We Were’ both suffer from garbage production (although I have a feeling this is intentional, it doesn’t work well enough) and sound more like they’re making fun of political punk than actual examples of the genre. These songs, as well as some other choice lines scattered throughout the album, suffer slightly from Julian’s undeniable, somewhat endearing pretentiousness, a kind of “wake up sheeple” attitude, and could have easily been left off the album.

The closer song, ‘Pointlessness,’ is a sleepy, spacey, existentialist or nihilistic tune, with the repeated line “What does it matter?” It’s very pretty and calming, and is one of the shining moments of the softer side of Casablancas’s vocals. The lyrics “I believe that / You’re gonna be forgotten / Any day now” gain more meaning once you notice the connection to The Strokes lyrics from fifteen years ago (wow, cue the “feel old yet?” memes) opening 

, “I wanna be forgotten / And I don’t wanna be reminded.” Lots of small lines throughout this album, as well as the band’s name change, indicate a desire of Julian Casablancas to, essentially, be forgotten, at least as the superstar we know him as. This has perhaps been the case since those early lyrics were written, but now more than ever, Julian seems to be striving for a lack of individual fame. I can’t say whether this will be the case, or whether it would be a good thing, but I do think that 

 is a good indicator that anything Julian Casablancas has a part in making will have the mark of his creative ingenuity and slightly eccentric tendencies. He’s a little out there, a bit out of control at times, but you’ve got to love it.

The Voidz release full-length ‘Virtue’

On March 16th, WRBB’s Clio Fleece and Laura Shrago got a chance to chat with Larz (bass) and Ellen (leader, vocals, guitar) of local band Palehound before their sold-out show at The Sinclair. This was Palehound’s first time headlining at their hometown venue.

Laura Shrago: So you finished a tour recently, how did it go?

Ellen Kempner: It was great, it was really… long.

EK: Well, three and a half weeks. We’ve done longer time-wise than that, but we circled around the whole country, in… three and a half weeks. It was a lot of driving, we didn’t have a single day off, so it was like, a 

 tour. I’m glad this isn’t right after the tour, or else we’d be dead.

Larz Brogan: Yeah, and like, miserable, and asleep in the green room. [laughs]

Clio Fleece: Do you have any crazy moments or stories from this tour?

EK: From this tour? We all got matching tattoos in the back of our van, that’s our only — well, we saw cacti too, but that’s not what I think you mean by “crazy.” It’s cool, but it’s not like, 

. Yeah, we saw cacti, but then we got stick and poke tattoos in the back of our van in Toronto, which is pretty awesome, and they’re all the same and in the same place.

CF: Oh, that’s cute! So the last album [

] seemed a lot more raw and emotional than the other ones, and it seems to have received the most recognition. What’s it like to play these kinds of songs that are about really serious stuff in your life and see audiences singing along and rocking out to them even though they’re about some pretty heavy stuff?

EK: It’s really weird, it’s something that I had to definitely get a little adjusted to, and it really depends on the show. Like, a show like tonight, I’m gonna be probably really emotional, just because it’s a really special night for us. It depends on the night because some nights we’ve been in the car for like, eight hours and I’m just really 

. And it’s hard to summon that emotional energy every single night, or else I’m gonna burn the fuck out, you know? So it depends on the night, but most of the time it’s really just cathartic and surreal.

LS: You said tonight is a special night, what does that mean?

EK: This is the biggest crowd that’s come to one of our shows. It’s sold-out and we’ve never — I don’t know, do you [Larz] wanna talk about why it’s special?

LB: I mean, yeah, similar to what you were saying; it’s really cool to be in the place where we grew up in this DIY community or whatever, and now it’s this sold-out show at this place that we’ve all gone to shows to for 

 the best music venue in Boston, at least 

 know, and it’s just really great. We all have family and tons of friends coming, and the bill itself is just so special, because it’s a really good mixed bill, which I feel like you don’t see a lot, so that’s really cool.

LS: This is me being a nerdy graphic designer: when I saw your 

 I was so mesmerized. Obviously that’s a very different process, making a music video with animation and an artist, so what was it like to work with an artist and balance between the band’s vision and the artist’s style?

] in person, she lives in the UK actually, so there was no way for us to ever meet in person. I just gave her the song and gave her the lyrics, but the only thing I told her was, ‘I would like this to depict female, or femme, people interacting as friends, as lovers, just anything you interpret from the song, that way,’ and she just made 

. [laughs] It was like, perfect. That’s all I gave her and she just took it away. And I didn’t even really have anything to do with anything else. [laughs]

CF: That’s so awesome. For the other music videos, they’re not as much like that — do you hire someone to direct or is it mostly your vision, what you want to do?

EK: I usually hire someone, because I don’t know what I’m talking about nearly as much as someone who actually does that. I don’t really want to be self-righteous in that way. Plus, someone else will just definitely do a better job than I will. Larz has actually done — no I’m kidding… [laughs]

LB: Yeah, I uh, I’m the music video director for… everyone. In the world.

CF: I’ll hit you up if I ever need one.

LB: Yeah, hit me up, truly. I only charge a million dollars a minute. [laughs]

CF: I saw in one of your interviews that you talked about how this album came out of you having recently found your place in a queer community after not really being in one or having a set one. Do you think, since it won’t be as fresh and new going forward, that it will still be as much of an influence in your future albums, or do you think, once you’ve settled into it, it may take more of a background?

EK: That’s a really good question, I’ve actually never been asked that before. I think it’ll always have that influence, just because my relationships will always change and I will always keep on meeting new people and, when we’re on tour we run into other queer people just in different places, you know?

LB: The queer community is definitely universal, and I feel like once you’re in it, you’re kind of in it for life. It’s just a very accepting and beautiful sort of place to be, and you can definitely just like, freak what you feel in any way, which I feel like is not the case with a lot of other scenes. Because they can be really exclusive, and the queers are just like, fuckin’ like, 

EK: Usually our crowds when we tour, anywhere, are pretty gay, so we definitely have queer people coming to all our shows, and then we just make friends. So it’s always expanding.

LB: There’s always the one straight couple in the front row that’s making out to like, the gayest song and it’s really funny. It’s like, do you—have you listened to the lyrics? Do you know what this is?

LB: They can do their thing, but they should be in the back and the queers should be in the front.

LS: Kind of going off of that, I saw on Twitter a few months ago, when white supremacists came to Boston, and all the people were like, “Get out,” you said, if I’m remembering correctly, “If you were there, I’ll put you on the guest list.” Can you speak to what it’s been like to come about as a band with this kind of platform, during a time when people are looking to their cultural icons?

EK: We try to use that opportunity to fundraise as much as we can. We were raising money for just a few organizations, like Black Lives Matter chapters all over the country, on that tour specifically, and every once in a while I’ll quietly donate some of the band funds somewhere. We do have a platform, and I feel like you’ve gotta stand up and say something if you have a microphone. I just feel like you just have to, with everything that’s happening — it’s a must.

 came out; not that there’s any pressure for you to do something else, but, just curious if you’re working on anything at the moment or if you’re kind of taking a break?

EK: Yeah, well we don’t have any tours coming up for a while, so I’ve just been demoing songs, we’ve been working on stuff in practices, and, yeah, hoping to get something new recorded by the end of the year.

CF: Has the political climate had a focus in anything you’re writing or influencing it?

EK: Yeah definitely because the political climate isn’t this thing that you’re at all distant from, it changes everything in your life. When it’s something that’s this extreme and really alters all of your relationships in certain ways, it would be impossible not to write about it, ‘cause it’s just so mingled with everything in our lives.

CF: You said you really like The Sinclair, but do you have any specific favorite venues you’ve been to on tour, and why?

LB: The Bootleg in L.A. was really cool. Everyone who worked there was 

 nice and the sound was really good, which — I mean, I guess at this point, it’s usually good, but it can definitely be hit or miss. It was just cool; they had a photo booth, which I always fucking love! So that’s always a big plus. Yeah, it was just a really cool spot.

EK: I think my favorite has to be — well no, it’s not my favorite, there are so many venues that are amazing — but one that really stuck out was in Birmingham, Alabama, and it’s called The Saturn. The reason it stood out was because the green room for that venue is an entire floor, and there’s a pool table, and a kitchen, and it’s decorated so incredibly. It’s like when you watch a Disney Channel Original series, and the kid grew up in some crazy house with a fire pole in it, you know what I mean?

EK: Yeah, a smarthouse. It was like out of a movie. And they had these sleeping pods that had mattresses, and video games, and TVs in them, so you could just lie down and — it was fuckin’ crazy, dude.

LB: That place is sick. Also El Club in Detroit is really cool, and it’s owned by a gay person, but there’s also a really beautiful patio and outdoor area, when the weather’s nice you can hang out out there. So that place is fun.

EK: But also The Sinclair truly does rank as — all things considered, no bias from being here at all, it really is just the best place.

EK: Yeah, first of all to see a show here is awesome, it’s great sound, everyone here is so nice, and they feed you from their amazing restaurant, and it’s just the best. I’m havin’ a blast already.

LB: It’s not too big, where you can still feel comfortable and not like, suffocating. It’s designed so well, and sounds awesome.

CF: Do you guys have any crazy fan stories?

LS: Any weird stuff that people have done?

EK: Someone asked me to marry them. She was crazy, I mean, she was really crazy. It was scary. She tried to get behind the merch table, she was trying to touch me the whole time, and she was like, “I really think we should get married, like we should really…” Like, she was 

 asking me to marry her. I’m not gonna say where it was, just in case she sees it. But yeah, she was nuts. There are other crazy fans where it’s good crazy, like people who are really nice but also crazy, but she was bad crazy.

LB: Some dude actually, on this last tour, he was like, shitfaced, so it was definitely just him being like “uughhgg” but he came up to me and was like “OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU” and then he was like, “WILL YOU MARRY ME!” And I’m like, “Dude, you’re fuckin’ barkin’ up the wrong tree here.” [laughs] But he was also just a shitfaced idiot. I wonder if Jesse [drummer, not present at time of interview] has gotten a marriage proposal. To be continued!

Q&A with Palehound

Before I get into this review, I want to acknowledge just how impressive Rich Brian’s story is, regardless of the quality of this album. Brian Imanuel just turned 18 in September, and he has already earned the title of first Asian artist to ever reach #1 on the iTunes Hip Hop chart. He learned English from YouTube videos in his room in Indonesia, and is essentially a poster child for the ideal self-made internet rapper story. Just keep that in mind.

Since the viral success of the half-serious, half-satirical 2-minute ‘

’ in 2016, Rich Brian has released a string of decent singles, but 

 is his first ever album. Actually, when ‘Dat $tick’ came out, his name was Rich Chigga, and the song even included the n-word, both quite risky choices that ended up going reasonably well for Brian. To his credit, he has since 

 he made back then, but these choices do a good job illustrating just how young Rich Brian is, both in years and in experience in the public eye. Brian was 16 when he started getting famous, and instead of behaving worse after the fame, it seems that he has made a real effort to mature and clean up his act.

, Brian makes it clear that he’s not here just to joke around with a fanny pack and khakis like in ‘Dat $tick.’ The title track starts the album short and sweet, and while the rap game might not be his best, it absolutely captures the listener’s attention, which is extremely important for the first track on an album. However, after the initial excitement, Brian still feels a lot like an artist who is still figuring himself out. There are some pretty solid beats, both on the harder end and on the softer side, and there are some clever lines, but mostly it feels distant and one-note; there isn’t a clear storyline or dynamic arc in the album, and Brian still seems like he’s imitating his idols to make up for his lack of experience.

 is the production, which is still a testament to Brian’s talent, since he produced or co-produced almost every song on the album. It’s possible that Brian could be an even better producer than a rapper, if he chose to focus on the former more in future projects. Songs like ‘Occupied,’ ‘Attention (feat. Offset),’ and ‘Chaos’ are some of the toughest beats on the album, almost irresistible to dance to; others, like ‘Introvert (feat. Joji),’ ‘Arizona,’ and ‘Glow Like Dat’ show the more relaxed and beautiful beats Brian is capable of. In particular, ‘Introvert (feat. Joji)’ shows a lot of promise for Brian branching out with his style, with a more classic groove that isn’t seen on the rest of the album, and gorgeous vocals from fellow self-made internet star Joji. On ‘Kitty,’ the struggle between Brian’s comedic online persona and his professional rap goal presents itself in the form of a rap about getting caught losing his virginity to a girl who he later discovers to be his manager’s sister.

 is an okay album, nothing special objectively but still an interesting tangible product of Rich Brian’s incredible origin story. It’s probably a scary thing to take the risk of opting for more honesty instead of just a trap façade, and while the payoff may not have been the best musically, I think 

 will serve as the catalyst for Rich Brian’s full evolution into the artist he wants to be. If this were his second or third album, I’d be seriously disappointed, but since this was his debut, my feeling coming away from it is excitement for the future over anything else.

Rich Brian releases full-length ‘Amen’

For those who don’t listen to BØRNS, you might know his song ‘Electric Love’ as “

.” Like many other songs on Garrett Borns’ debut album 

, ‘Electric Love’ was synthy, upbeat, extremely enjoyable indie pop for a huge audience. The way I see it, after garnering so much commercial success and recognition from 

 in 2015, BØRNS had two directional options for his sophomore album, 

: he could have, on the one hand, taken this newly-grown fan base as an opportunity to embrace his weirdness and creativity, and maybe try something a little different with the knowledge that he now had a bigger audience to show whatever he wanted to. On the other hand, he could opt to pay more attention to the commercial aspects of his success, and build up his brand around the broadly accessible pop parts of his music.

It seems that BØRNS chose the latter, for better or for worse. 

 is filled with very commercially viable songs, the type that will serve him well in the festival circuit and in the world of synchronization use (plays of a song in TV, film, or advertisements). But with this commerciality, BØRNS seems to have eschewed a level of emotion desired and expected by your average listener. There were a few concepts that I kept returning to while listening to 

: The first was that the statement I could make with the most confidence was this album that it is, without a doubt, 

 BØRNS. This can have both positive and negative implications. The fact that he has already established a “BØRNS sound” on his second album is something to be congratulated on, since it means he built a strong identity and aesthetic worth remembering on his first album. However, it also means that if the most prominent thing about 

 is that it sounds very BØRNS, that basically means it sounds a lot like 

. I compare it to the folly of Lana Del Rey (a collaborator on 

 tracks ‘God Save Our Young Blood’ and ‘Blue Madonna’), who grabbed our attention with nostalgia, aesthetics, and a unique sound, but after three albums has hardly strayed from her original sound, leading many listeners to grow jaded by her work.

The two tracks mentioned above, both with Lana singing alongside BØRNS, are a good start to look at what’s wrong (and right) with some of the tracks on 

. Both ‘Blue Madonna’ and ‘God Save Our Young Blood’ walk on the edge of indie-pop hit territory, in the end being a bit too chill to reach ultimate mainstream status. They also both contain lyrical hints of that nostalgia and L.A. romanticism both BØRNS and Lana got popular with: verses in ‘God Save Our Young Blood’ have lines like “Damn, look at the sunrise,” “Baptized in blue skies,” and “Damn, you and those green eyes.” In ‘Blue Madonna’ we hear, “Just wanna make her feel like a virgin,” (ew, by the way) and “Cooler than a strawberry shake.” These tracks, along with the majority of those on the album, blend into one another and get lost in that unfortunately prevalent “BØRNS sound.”

Nonetheless, there still are some solid songs on 

. The back-to-back songs ‘Iceberg’ and ‘Second Night of Summer’ bring a welcome break from the too-glossy, over-produced songs on the rest of the album. Aside from some try-hard trendiness that personally made me cringe, like “Dreaming about you rolling a perfect joint” or “Throwing me that shade like I’m not cool enough,” these songs allow BØRNS’ impressive falsetto voice to be showcased a little more than his breathy high notes in the other songs, and they also contain noticeable trap and Soundcloud-style elements in their backing beats. All-in-all, pick any song off of 

 and it will fall under either the umbrella of “more of the same” or “some interesting elements but still no feeling.” As someone who knows that all music has its place in the industry, I can appreciate 

 album, one that will likely be pretty successful for BØRNS, but as someone who was hoping for something fresh, this album did not deliver.

P.S. I just want everyone to know that while I was doing my very diligent, serious person listening, “Tension (Interlude)” made me burst out laughing because the beginning sounds so much like 

Børns releases full-length ‘Blue Madonna’

The venue was packed full of people sporting everything from punk clothes to mom jeans, to Amanda Palmer’s iconic thinly drawn eyebrows. People waiting for the concert were friendly and willing to make conversation with strangers, foreshadowing the conversational nature of the performance we were about to witness. The stage was ready with a flower-adorned piano and covered drum set – the only two tools involved in most of the Dresden Dolls’ songs.

The crowd started screaming before Clio and I could even spot Amanda Palmer and Brian Viglione. With no opener, they walked out on stage to greet the crowd, doing a bow before Amanda took her seat at the piano and Brian at the drums. They had their signature theatrical makeup – Amanda with bright eyeshadow and harsh blush, and Brian with mime-makeup.

Quickly after sitting down, the gentle piano arpeggios and shimmery drum intro to ‘Girl Anachronism’ began before diving into the insanity that is the rest of the song. The intensity of the loud and fast song was a powerful opener, with red and white strobe lights taking over the venue. They continued with ‘Dirty Business’ and ‘Missed Me’, while the audience sang along to the quick and clever lyrics. After the song ended, Brian started chucking handfuls of candy into the crowd as Amanda jokingly told them they shouldn’t take candy from strange men. She then asked the crowd if anyone had been at their show the night before, and when most people didn’t raise their hands or cheer, she remarked “so no repeat victims?” This was the beginning of the witty banter that ended up being a large part of their performance; the on-stage dynamic of the duo was sweet and kept the audience laughing out loud.

“Brian have you ever been in musicals?” started off this particular bout of dialogue, where we all witnessed Amanda learning for the first time that Brian had been a theatre kid in high school. This seems quite unsurprising given his theatrics during the songs without a drum part; regardless of whether or not he was playing, he was always involved in the performance via dramatic body language and facial expressions as an interpretative accompaniment.

The show was more of an experience than a performance – the lights were so coordinated with the music, down to the detail of having a flash of light on an accented note, creating a really immersive musical experience for anyone in the space. The combination of the precise technical elements and the casual, friendly nature of their onstage presence made for a compelling show with a lot of depth into the band’s identity.

“Next is a cheerful song about abortion. I’ve written a couple of cheerful songs about abortion.” Politics was certainly not off limits, given the content of many songs by the Dresden Dolls or by Amanda Palmer as a solo artist. “Abortion can be bad but not worse than the people outside protesting,” she declared before doing ‘Mandy Goes to Med School’, a jazzy song about a man who is viewed as a full-package kind of guy while actually being an abuser. The song is sly but has a classic sound, showing the group’s versatility. She then yelled “Hallelujah!” and threw a sole piece of candy into the crowd.

By this point, the show was feeling very intimate. We had witnessed several casual conversations between Amanda and Brian, and they had responded to specific shouts from the audience throughout the night. She mentioned that the night before, they played for three hours, but that in fairness, forty minutes of it was just her talking. She said she wouldn’t do that again for this show. (She was wrong.)

She dedicated her next song, ‘Mrs. O’, to the fake news, explaining that it was both inspiring and disturbing that songs she wrote in 2003 are even more relatable now. After, Amanda accused Brian of spreading “fake news” when he said his mallets broke. Amanda then reminded everyone, “Just for the record: I hate our president. Just to be fair, I fucking hate that guy.”

After somehow arriving at a moment of comic relief where she and Brian played the first ten seconds of the 

 theme, she performed the dark song, ‘Glass Slipper’, about the strip club in Boston of the same name where she used to work. The song was emotional, and some of the intense parts, you could even see spit flying from her mouth.

Brian switched to an electric guitar and they performed an expressive rendition of Madonna’s ‘Material Girl’, which was unexpected and incredibly poignant. We even noticed that the club’s security guy stationed next to the stage had his jaw hanging open the entire time in shock. They then did a complete one-eighty with the tone of the concert and played the Ramones’ ‘Blitzkrieg Bop’ where Amanda switched to drums (and kazoo), and they invited a bunch of people to come dance on stage. At this point, the show’s structure started to dissolve.

They offered to play the first three seconds of any eighties song which caused chaos where the audience was screaming all at once with the band trying to decipher the suggestions. Amanda then suggested “What about nineties?” which stirred up another round of screaming, which she eventually stopped by deciding to do ‘Napoleon’ by Ani DiFranco, someone who she explained was one of the most underrated female singers of the nineties. While the guitar strummed in the background softly, Amanda talked about her upbringing in Lexington, MA and what it was like to return to the suburbs when she visits.

After that, they regained a semblance of structure and returned to their original setlist, performing a new song entitled ‘Small Hands, Small Heart’ about you-know-who. On Amanda Palmer’s website, it explains that all the song’s proceeds are going to 

 to help with hurricane relief in Puerto Rico. They ended with ‘Half Jack’, a passionate and vocally impressive song about growing up with divorced parents, then joined hands to bow before leaving the stage.

They returned to the stage not even two minutes later, Amanda with an open beer in hand this time, and Brian with an acoustic guitar. Amanda held her beer on top of her head while talking about the song they were about to perform, ‘Amsterdam’ by John Denver. Their sea-shanty-like cover had Amanda emphatically swaying on stage to the rhythm and running around the club – up the balcony and through the lower audience level. She ended up back on stage holding her beer up high in triumph, with liquid shooting out the top all over the stage and audience as she sang. She inserted an introspective comment about seeing people in the audience from her past, then a golf joke about the president, and finally a plug for voting on Tuesday before doing their final two songs.

They performed ‘Coin Operated Boy’ before commenting that they passed their curfew for the venue and that people who want to buy merch have to go fast, but “fuck capitalism, it’s okay”. They ended with the slow, melancholy but hopeful ‘Sing’, with soft blue lighting and gentle piano and heartfelt vocals. They said goodnight, bowed, and exited, leaving us feeling like we had spent the night with friends who shared their personal art and thoughts with us. It was a catharsis for the band and the audience as well.

The Dresden Dolls @ Paradise Rock Club

 is an album that makes one think “…Oh…okay…” at the end, but not in a good way. After teasing her newest album as some sort of epiphanous rebirth, a passion project filled with her newfound inner peace and happiness, Cyrus presents us with, at best, a couple 

 ones. After listening to the album multiple times, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something missing, which I have now accepted as the unexplainably poor production, which weaves itself through almost every song on the album.

It’s no secret to anyone that Miley has had a hard time with her image. We’ve seen it in the media and heard it in her music, from the desperately rebellious break from Disney on 

 era. Most recently we were presented with an acid-trip, modern hippy image on 

. For all of their potential merits, none of these drastically different albums could shake a sense of overdone different-ness. Miley has never managed to be discreet about her desire for change, or at least perceived change. Lately that goal has manifested itself in controversial and dismissive 

. After getting the sense that Cyrus essentially committed a cultural drive-by of hip-hop, embracing it rather hastily and dismissing it just as quickly, it’s hard to feel any sense of security about the lifespan of this current version of Miley.

This lack of surety and trouble with commitment is unable to hide within the fabric of 

. There are so many different musical styles and techniques happening on the album, and practically none of them are done well enough to really work. The two lead singles, ‘Younger Now’ and ‘Malibu’, are upbeat and cute, sure, but they offer nothing special in terms of production, songwriting or musicality. ‘Rainbowland,’ a Dolly Parton collaboration named for Cyrus’ own home studio, lacks production on an almost offensive level, allowing Miley’s godmother’s amazing voice to be completely lost in some parts of the song. The clearest we hear Parton is in the loving recorded messages bookending the song, but otherwise it might as well be any studio backup singer because of how little you can hear her voice.

Lyricism is consistently uninspired, using cliché metaphors and low-hanging concepts. On the breakup song ‘Week Without You,’ Cyrus uses the easy “not like other girls” image: “How I’d love not to stress / I’d go and grab my old blue jeans / I’m sick of wearing this silly dress.” The blandly moody ‘Love Someone’ does an unconvincing job of a free spirit mentality: “Kickin’ off my shoes and runnin’ towards the sun / I said ‘Nothing’s really worth it unless you’re having fun.’”

There are, of course, reasons why this is not a zero-light bulb review. Although not particularly innovative or transformative, mellower songs like ‘I Would Die for You,’ ‘She’s Not Him,’ and ‘Inspired’ have more energy than any of the louder songs on the record. These particular songs have the passion that I had expected based on Cyrus’s interviews, a passion that the entire album desperately lacks. ‘I Would Die for You’ has incredibly romantic, sweet lyrics (“I have your heart, I don’t even need a ring / I’d give up all I have in exchange for who I love more than anything”), but the unexpectedly minor chords suggest an interesting, dark undertone. ‘Inspired,’ an ode to Cyrus’ father and to her political passions, really 

 sound inspired. It’s an uplifting call for change (a word mentioned throughout the chorus) that gives us a glimpse into Miley’s new attitude and lifestyle. ‘She’s Not Him,” allegedly about ex-girlfriend Stella Maxwell, is a spacey heartbreaker and remorseful apology for not being able to fully invest (“And you don’t deserve all the bullshit I’ve put you through / You, you deserve a heart much bigger than one that’s torn in two”).

On the whole, there is no way around it: 

 is disappointing. Miley Cyrus makes some same old mistakes along with brand new ones, and just does not deliver enough to balance out the negatives. But there are glimmers of promise hidden in the album, which Cyrus will hopefully choose to stick with and improve instead of making another unsuccessful attempt at a clean slate, square-one approach.

Miley Cyrus releases full-length ‘Younger Now’

There was an overwhelming message of love and acceptance conveyed through music at George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic’s show last Saturday night, which was started off by Boston-based Nephrok! Allstars. In between a mixture of covers and originals, during which the band’s leader, Nephrok! danced around the stage in what could only be described as a funk sultan costume, he took moments between the music to spout sentiments of love, equality, and peace. He topped off this performance by emerging in a monarch butterfly costume before their last song. This grandiose display of peace and equality would be continued later on in the night.

Most people I talk to don’t recognize George Clinton’s name. Perhaps a couple of them recognize the names “Parliament” or “Funkadelic,” and a few more than that may be able to sing along to “Flashlight” or “Give Up the Funk” from the group’s glory days. But, going through everyday life as a college student in 2017, it’s easy to feel like George Clinton and his band of musicians—formerly Parliament and Funkadelic separately, and now Parliament Funkadelic, are quite nearly forgotten funk legends. This wasn’t the case once George and his crew walked out on stage, gliding into “Baby Like Fonkin’ It Up” off of their most recent album, First Ya Gotta Shake the Gate. It was obvious that no one in House of Blues Boston that night would let George Clinton or Parliament Funkadelic be forgotten anytime soon.

Although George Clinton is doubtlessly the most famous and respected member of Parliament Funkadelic, both through the eyes of his audience and those of his bandmates, he did not act as such. While other members of the group were singing or playing, George would go over and point to them, drawing attention to those who were doing the most work at any given moment. He even took a seat back near the drummer many times throughout the show, giving all of the attention to his comrades, many of whom were much younger than him. No matter their age, every member of Parliament Funkadelic clearly sees George as either a father or big brother figure, treating him with reverence as well as feeling completely comfortable goofing around with him.

Continuing the positive messages which had been started by Nephrok! Allstars, Clinton led P Funk in “One Nation Under a Groove,” from the 1978 concept album of the same name, which preaches the power of funk to make us more open-minded, happy people (as well as better dancers). Despite being almost 40 years, old, the song had a fresh, painful significance, especially when being performed by a group of awe-inspiring people of color ranging in age from mid-20s to mid-70s, treating each other and everyone around them as equals. “Maggot Brain” was perhaps the most heart-wrenching song of a night otherwise filled with fun and whimsicality, because of George’s monologue prefacing the mournful 10+ guitar solo with,


“Mother Earth is pregnant for the third time

 I have tasted the maggots in the mind of the universe

The odd juxtaposition of moments such as these, with an overall atmosphere of fun, peace, love, and color, made for an intense and incredibly entertaining night, leaving me with a sense of happiness, and a feeling that maybe, in a way, funk could really save us all.

Clio Fleese