A conscious sense of self-importance is key for rappers who are attempting to stamp their place in the scene. In 2013, Kendrick Lamar displayed this on ‘Control’ with a verse that sent shockwaves through hip-hop as he declared, “I got love for you all but I’m tryna murder you niggas.” Of course, he had the respect of the entire community and a towering body of work to support his claims…but what happens when a rapper without the esteemed back-catalog attempts to make similar statements? Enter Hopsin, a fellow California artist whose fifth studio-album, Pound Syndrome, has a common thread of attempting to assert supremacy over groupies, struggle rappers, and hip-hop as a whole.
Even though Future’s sophomore release, Honest, showcased the Atlanta native’s ability to tackle abstract soundscapes and spawned a few successful singles (despite being riddled with unnecessary features), it was still met with under appreciation. So from the October through March following Honest‘s spring 2014 rollout, Future released three mixtapes (Monster, Beast Modeand 56 Nights) that would mark a return to the heavily street-oriented trap that launched his career, particularly breakout mixtape Dirty Sprite.
Tame Impala’s excellent first two records, Innerspeaker and Lonerism found Kevin Parker portrayed as a reclusive prisoner of his own imagination amongst sounds funnelled from the 60’s and 70’s that sounded like remastered vinyl cuts from long ago. It was a bold and untravelled path, but as the entire music world took notice of Tame Impala’s imaginative lane, music seemed to latch on to this faux-psychedelia sound and emulated and copied the blueprint until “psychedelic” aspects of music seemed to bleed across all genres. With Tame Impala’s latest release, Currents, Kevin finds himself stepping outdoors and exploring the beauties and horrors of human interaction, all while transitioning to a more electronic revamp of their past, established sound—and again, Tame Impala has struck gold.
Going into Wildheart, I was pretty much unfamiliar with Miguel. I knew he was in the leagues with guys like The Weeknd and Frank Ocean and I knew he accidentally gave a leg drop to a girl like he was Hulk Hogan. Oh, and he was sampled in a PARTYNEXTDOOR song my ex-girlfriend likes. Jokes aside, I’m trying to say I went into this album almost completely blind. Now usually after saying something like that, the writer would go on ahead and say he/she was blown away with how great the album was, but sadly I can’t really say that for this album, not to say that it is bad.
We start off with three of the album’s best tracks, ‘a beautiful exit’, ‘DEAL’, and ‘the vallety’. ‘a beautiful exit’ starts off with a news clip sample leading into a dirty guitar riff as Miguel gives reassurance to his love interest in the song, comparing his journey with this girl to a police chase (tying back to the opening sample), driving through red lights with no care in the world as they know they’re gonna die young. It’s a great intro to the album that really sets the pace for the next track, ‘DEAL’, which starts off somewhat slow in the intro mixing guitars and synths changed quickly with an ‘OH!’ as the song kicks into high gear with a killer bassline as Miguel puts himself into a position of power due to his riches. This track, along with ‘a beautiful exit’, seem to be in a fantasy world he’s created due to his vulnerability (which he discusses in a recent interview with Pitchfork)
The Internet has always tried to be ambitious and creative, but to their plight, it hasn’t always worked for them. Their debut, Purple Naked Ladies saw an effective and refreshing outlook on synth-funk and R&B but ultimately sank due to Syd’s uninspired vocal moments and the lacklustre song structure. Feel Good, their sophomore release, was a wholesome attempt at truly embodying a band, and they may have had a couple home runs with certain singles, but ultimately the album’s “experimentation” just made for some stale, humdrum album filler. But throughout these records and the various loosies, features and EP’s in between, there has always been promise. The band, lead by Matt Martians and his animated chord-based production hasgenerally been impressive and came into their own when they toured with Mac Miller, subsequently producing a stellar live album Live From Space that breathed new life into Mac’s album Watching Movies With the Sound Off and live albums as a whole. Syd, too, has always had a tremendously flavourful and awe-inspiring voice, one that is equal parts sweet and raspy, and one that can fluctuate between an array of ranges. With their latest colourful record, Ego Death, The Internet has not only finally found a sweet-spot, but it’s also found an identity—one far from the realms of being just an Odd Future spawn band.
Instead, Ego Death places The Internet in the frontrunners of pop-R&B contention by reaching into the corners of funk and fusion-jazz. ‘Special Affair’ is a great example, one that sports a weighty bass-line driving sweet and sultry vocals as Syd tempts and seduces a subject of her choosing. ‘Under Control’ flutters along with thin, bouncing drum patterns and a very jazzy guitar riff and dancing clavs. Syd shines again with a choppy, conversational flow that employs a very matter-of-fact storytelling style that is bold yet compelling. Even the album intro, ‘Get Away’ wastes no time getting into the nitty-gritty of this new, sexy, coarse Internet that lends a hand to early Pharrell songwriting styles—the ‘Frontin’ kind that seductively begged for female energy. It’s the execution of these styles that the Internet would have been troubled with previously, but Syd has seemingly found a pocket on every track here with the band rarely missing a step.
The features aren’t to shabby either—the Vic Mensa flanked ‘Go With It’ sees Vic flowing continuously, de-railing and offbeat at times but ultimately thriving over the funky beat before Syd comes in to croon infectiously like she does. ‘Girl’ hits a little deeper and with a different wobble courtesy of Kaytranada spinning a new direction on The Internet’s funk. Syd rides the beat and is able to churn out a refreshing, spacy cut that is perfect for midnight seduction, or an H&M commercial. The legendary, Dungeon Family-approved queen Janelle Monáe lends her voice to a rockier, contagious groove in ‘Gabby’—easily one of the brightest, inspiring, and enjoyable moments on the album. ‘Palace/Curse’ features Tyler, the Creator’s new found knack for runs and melodies he toyed with on Cherry Bomb, while Tyler also narrates a house party in a very fun and retro fashion. It’s ambitious and it pays off, serving as a daring and brazen outRo.
Even though you can guess that Syd is crooning romance-fuelled lullabies on every track, the substance here is not ankle-deep. Tracks are subject to burst into different melodies and runs just before they expire, and Syd is also prone to appear flawed and vulnerable showing every angle of lust and desire, and even the self-destructive tendencies that come with these sentiments. At it’s core, Ego Death maintains the balance of having catchy pop melodies equipped with personable and relatable lyrics that open up a little more of Syd’s personal emotions rather than flaunting surface level songwriting as if it was profound. The Internet bask and roll in erotica, while playing with influences that stretch from The Neptunes to D’Angelo, all with a modern and current exterior.
Ego Death is spunky and spirited, and ultimately is the best project The Internet has ever put out. It glows and thrives throughout, and is surprisingly striking without a bland moment in between. If you’re a fan of instrumentation, the beats here are rich enough to keep you guessing and more than entertained—and if you’re a fan of old-fashioned melody, Syd has never been more excellent at treading the lines of moody and relatable, all while being inexplicably erotic. Long gone are the days of The Internet awkwardly trying to carve a place for themselves in modern R&B, as with Ego Death, they have swooped in and snatched their own spot among music’s elite—and they probably snatched your girl, too.
Prior to last week, it was safe to say that Meek Mill was not an album guy. His MMG debut, Dreams and Nightmares was a flop of sorts, crammed with deflated bangers with uninspired sounds and hooks, drab features, and boasting nothing more than some decent mixtape leftovers and an epic, even classic introduction track. The truth is, Meek Mill was signed as (and remains to be, to an extent) a mixtape artist—one that thrives on the boundless possibilities of unmastered tracks with uncleared samples, with a screaming DJ Drama positioned beside him. On the road to his sophomore release, not only did Meek seemingly have to address criticisms and run down the fan-checklist, but he had to endure a jail sentence in-between that supposedly changed the shape of the album in it’s entirety. Yes, the pre-jail Dreams Worth More Than Money is not the one we got, which might leave some to anticipate and entertain what could be more music to come, but it might also leave you to disregard what could have been and instead stare at a simpler truth: the Dreams Worth More Than Money we got is pretty damn good.
DWMTM is only a couple minutes shorter than Meek’s last studio album and holds the same amount of tracks, but the glaring difference here is the content featured on these tracks. We don’t get a lot of the epic yet sometimes drawn-out storytelling on this record—instead, every chance Meek gets at a home run, he’s swinging. Generally speaking, Meek chases the catchier hooks and the more club-friendly sounds on this album, not being afraid to lean on his features for the betterment of the track. ‘R.I.C.O.’ is practically a Drake leftover from his forthcoming release with a Meek verse glued on the end, but it’s still a slapper regardless of who shines more. ‘Jump Out the Face’ rides the Future train fresh off of 56 Nights but bangs regardless with a stellar performance from Meek, and even The Weeknd’s addition, ‘Pullin’ Up’ is an unexpected win for Meek even if the Weeknd stimulus is glaring.
Meek’s friends aren’t necessarily helping him all the time though— ‘All Eyes On You’ sounds like a bonus cut off new-boo Nick Minaj’s last album with the traditional, almost mundane Chris Brown hook and a lay-up verse from Nicki, and the other Nicki track ‘Bad For You’ sounds forced and fails to impress as much as their collaborations on The Pinkprint. Still though, Meek is able to stand on his own two and work in unison with collaborators for an upbeat listen, and even if he’s leaning on hooks and guests, he still has room for bars. The Swizz Beatz assisted ‘Classic’ sees Meek rhyming on a major mafioso beat courtesy of Bangladesh with plenty of quotables like “Make a movie on your bitch, tell her friend to get a role/ You thought she was innocent, we laughing like she been a hoe!”. Classic indeed.
‘Ambitionz’ flips Tupac’s aged classic to prove that Meek can fit storytelling amongst the club smashes, lamenting and reflecting about his crime infested past. Boi-1da shines with a glowing sample of Pac’s magnum opus while adding a modern flavour to it, and ultimately permitting Meek to find a sick pocket in every verse to be cunning and chilling at the same time. It’s here where the hope for Meek is restored and the wait for this album is justified for many, as Meek might be able to step outside of the box and make up for lost hits, but he’s also able to return to his roots and deliver what Meek fans listened to him in the first place for. Intro ‘Lord Knows’ sees a similarly stunning performance from Meek with an orchestral beat backing him, as he lyrically holds no punches and grants Canadian juggernaut Tory Lanez permission to absolutely slay the hook. In his own verses, Meek tears apart song structure and ditches the 16’s to find fulfilment in spitting countless bars and letting the beat loop itself as long as necessary.
Meek might not have delivered a classic moment as stellar as his last album’s intro, but he was able to deliver a more memorable and momentous project by cutting the fat with his own verses and having most of his guests kill it, too. There’s not a lot you wouldn’t expect here, it’s Meek using his yelling-inflection to spout raps of grind, crime and bitches all while adding in more topical bits like his new relationship, recent jail time, and new money. When all is said and done, though, Dreams Worth More Than Money might have trouble clawing for a top spot among the year’s elite, but it definitely will not go by the wayside, and will have fans’ collective thirst effectively quenched.
With the internet lately being extremely mindful and apprehensive towards “industry plants” and label-manufactured artists, Leon Bridges might sound a little too good to be true, as though he was carefully developed by Columbia Records in a secret laboratory somewhere—but really, he was just another young man washing dishes in his hometown of Fort Worth, Texas just over a year ago. It also might sound like Leon was bred and raised on the oldie classics that he emulates and exudes in his own tremendous voice, but that’d be incorrect too. Instead, he was a R&B kid obsessed with R.Kelly and Ginuwine, and happened to stumble upon the likes of Sam Cooke and his contemporaries via Spotify and YouTube. Fast forward to last fall, and he had over 40 labels kneeled over in front of him believing he was the next soul legend, and today, Leon Bridges has not only released his debut album, Coming Home, but he has also managed to craft one of the most refreshing, expressive and tender records 2015 has heard.
In music’s current climate, neo-soul singers of all kinds usually swing towards overexposed clichés; cheesy sexual metaphors, alcohol and drug fuelled lust, autotune and trap-snares and hi-hats—but Leon Bridges found solace in the real, retro ways of the past. Leon’s music is cut from a simple and minimalistic cloth that involves singing exactly how you feel, live instrumentation, brass and jazz chords, and 60’s soul song structures that will have anyone shimmyin’ and shakin’. Coming Home is an experiment in all kinds and tempos of near-ancient soul, with Leon not only flaunting a spectacularly original and rare voice, but also exceptionally moving and beautiful songwriting.
Tracks like ‘River’ slowly spill with warm emotion as Leon croons over the simple strums of an acoustic guitar, while the maternal-tribute ‘Lisa Sawyer’ recognizes the debts owed to his mother over gentle keys and a doo-wop influence. These slower tempo tracks almost leave you frozen upon first listen, as they genuinely sound like remastered soul records from decades past. On the contrary, Leon recorded the bulk of Coming Home digitally, perfectly mastering a sound that belongs on a vinyl record coated in dust on your father’s shelf. Leon can also find a higher-tempo groove without departing from this aesthetic, with the title track and fun-loving ‘Coming Home’ catching a groove that flows from verse to chorus and back around again. Leon doesn’t stray from the heartbreaking side of love, either—’Better Man’ and ‘Pull Away’ point out enough imperfections in his romantic prospects and his own inability to love without strain and blemishes.
If Leon Bridges is half sweet and tender soul, the other half of him is undoubtedly the strong and potent sounds of Southern-gospel. Even underneath the soulful cuts on this record, you can hear gospel-influenced background vocals or church-organs sliding beneath instrumentals. ‘Smooth Sailin’’ is a Southern-blues banger with an infectious riff and enough energy to have anybody at least churn out a two-step. ‘Shine’ stands as a brilliant moment on this record, too, that perfectly blends both halves of Leon’s soul and gospel influences for one slow swaying track that dives into love and faith.
Most often, innovation in music today comes in the form of a sharper and more radical format—whether it’s the distorted and industrial influences that push hip-hop forward or the electronic and dance-funk that seems to be driving pop. Instead, Leon Bridges is able to bring an even more innovative and refreshing outlook on music, all while borrowing sounds from past generations. But, don’t get it twisted—Coming Home is not an album that’s 50 years late. Rather, it is a record that channels sounds and sentiments that are utterly timeless.
“He is the antagonist. That’s his character.” These words are rapper Earl Sweatshirt’s description of his 22-year-old dear friend Vince Staples, a fellow MC by way of Long Beach, CA. Vince might be a member of the 2015 XXL Freshman Class and a recent Def Jam signee, but prior to all of this Vince found himself rapping as early as five years ago which was likely a hobby to keep himself away from worse things, but allowed him to make friends with several members of Odd Future and ultimately find his way on Sweatshirt’s debut-mixtape EARL—specifically an exceptionally vile and gruesome verse on the standout ‘Epar’, a song boisterous and entertaining but detailing rape and murder all in the name of shock value. In 2015, though, Vince Staples finds himself embodying a different kind of antagonist—one that embodies and relishes in his matured outlooks on his gang involvement in years past.
Instead of epitomizing a struggle rapper that gang-banged to get by and was a victim of circumstance, Vince is the kid from the hood that “had fun” growing up, playing his part and content in a world where he knew no other destiny, only realizing the toxic nature of his adolescence in retrospect when the notoriety of his music removed him from it. With his mixtape series Shyne Coldchain and other projects like Stolen Youth or last Fall’s Hell Can Wait, Vince found himself glorifying the violent and destructive behavior of his childhood, playing the villainous role of an emotionless, stone cold gang-banger with a haunting and monotone flow, yet on his debut double-album Summertime ’06, Vince presents the tales of his real teenage days with a bleeding heart and without filters. It’s a compassionate, moving record that will still have trunks rattling and speakers throbbing, all while Vince lyrically details his battle with balancing the hyper-masculinity that comes with being a Long Beach Crip, and the emotional torture of pursuing peace in an environment that only promises death.
Summertime ’06 is sonically unlike anything Vince has touched in projects past—it’s glaringly abrasive, visceral and thumps with an industrial-influence. DJ Dahi, No I.D., and Clams Casino who handled most of the production on the double-album all contributed to push a cohesive, unsettling sound, all while Vince rides beats playing flow-roulette, approaching each track with a different bounce. It might be advertised as a double album, but it clocks in at a modest 59 minutes due to the brief, fast-paced nature of the record. Vince adapts by switching perspectives and topics from song to song, never resting his head on one sentiment for too long. The album’s real intro, ‘Lift Me Up’ buzzes with a sinister bass-line, as Vince wastes no time carving his mind into the canvas provided. “I’m just a nigga, until I fill my pockets” are the first bars you hear on the album—lines that are eccentric and self-aware, but the song’s hook serves as a cry for help to any God listening, as Vince spits “Can a motherfucker breathe?/Life ain’t always what it seems, so please just lift me up”.
Vince Staples is not one for finesse or elegance in his bars. He employs a much more bleak, to-the-point mode of storytelling, with an immense amount of energy and intensity in every song, regardless of the dark, dismal content; ‘Dopeman’ sees Kilo Kish lending her vocals for a bone-chilling refrain with Vince following with a verse stretching words playfully, while the Future-sampling single ‘Señorita’ sees Vince matching Future’s energetic verse and the trembling 808’s with a skipping flow. Vince’s tone and inflection on these songs are packed full of bite and youth, but there are points on this double record where he becomes more soft-spoken as he tip-toes around the affairs of love and romance—specifically in the first disc of the album. Songs like ‘Lemme Know’ with Jhené Aiko and DJ Dahi on vocal support and ‘Loca’ outline specific love interests of different flavors, with the latter being a standout in the way it bangs and lyrically lends itself to modern classics like 50’s ’21 Questions’. Summertime ’06 does not follow any linear thematic outline, but it does feature swings in emotion and seems to mature gradually from first disc to the second. It seems at the tail end of the first half of the album, Vince ditches his female infatuations and trades the romance for his pistol again, as the second half of the record morphs into a much more hard-bodied, gang-banging anthems. ‘3230’ rides with a distorted bump, ‘Street Punks’ with a clanging and tropical notes. ‘Get Paid’ with unknown female vocalist Desi Mo is blatantly Clipse inspired with it’s minimalistic beat and perpetually violent lyrics.
Not all of Summertime ’06 is a newer spin on trunk-rattling gangsta rap, though—Vince’s conscious and witty side shapes some bars into poignant, refreshing takes on current events and social issues. The final track on the first portion, ‘Summertime’ is a slow burning jam beautifully produced by Clams Casino, where Vince ponders life and love. Between a Nirvana-inspired hook and his lamenting over romance, Vince also explores things taught to him: “My teachers told me we was slaves/My mama told me we was kings/I don’t know who to listen to/I guess we somewhere in between”. ‘Surf’ on the second disc is also padded with important questions and self-aware lines that speak to the times, like “More black kids killed from a pill than the FEDs in the projects/In the planned parenthood playin’ God with ya mom’s check, you ain’t even been to prom yet” and “Just a pawn and a plan tryin’ to hold on/When the smoke clear why was the war fought?/Bout time you abandon the folklore”. Vince is at his most introspective on the album’s formal conclusion, ‘Like It Is’. The Andre 3000 sampling track features Vince at his most personal and matured, eager to trade in the violence and street life to spark a change in his town and lineage. The track features spoken-word speeches from Vince directly speaking to the listener and telling stories about the insignificance of his race and the struggles of existing in an enduringly pimped and appropriated culture.
It’s this personal, heart-wrenching, reality-stricken side of Vince that is actually the most absent on this record, to a fault. The only glaring issue with Summertime ’06 is the lack of genuinely moving sentiments and overall vagueness of the content. Sure, he talks about and references his neighborhood throughout the record and touches on the illegal ways of his past, but he never shares too much or gets too deep into anything, turning instead to melody and catchy hooks before ever lyrically expounding into any topic; and by the end of the record, you walk away without knowing why the summer of 2006 was specifically so important to Vince—an issue made worse when you realize there isn’t enough of an emotional and personal story arc to fill two discs, let alone one.
Still, Summertime ’06 presents a pressure-filled record that bounces and bangs in a traditional way, but also leans on modern industrial influences. It might lyrically borrow from the likes of Dipset and G-Unit, but Vince innovatively pairs this with Yeezus-inspired bass-lines and fast paced drums akin to El-P or Death Grips. Vince might not have dove too deep lyrically, but the verdict still stands on one of the year’s most poignant, inventive albums: Summertime ’06 is gangsta rap in a straight jacket and skinny jeans, and ultimately delivers a sound you can’t find anywhere else.
Before the explosion his free album Acid Rap caused in early 2013, Chance the Rapper was a bubbling rapper whose name didn’t ring many bells outside his homeland of Chicago. His friends, obviously, were even more anonymous to the public eye, which is a statement that definitely doesn’t ring true today. Acid Rap was one of the most acclaimed, celebrated, and downright refreshing projects dropped in recent rap history, and Chance the Rapper to this day has yet to follow it up with any kind of solo project, paid-for single, or even any kind of record deal. Instead, Chance’s idea of consistency existed in touring his Acid Rap material as much as possible, collaborating and writing music for other artists, existing as an internet entity that exudes relevance without a label or management firms, but moreover, it existed in the idea of making music with his friends, and pushing his musical ensemble to the spotlight with him. Now, 758 days later, Chance’s horn-specialist Donnie Trumpet and the Social Experiment band (Peter Cottontale, Nate Fox, Greg “Stix” Landfair Jr., and Chance the Rapper) have released the long-awaited, frequently teased project, Surf.
What’s in a genre, anyway? Genres themselves can usually be constricting and compact in general, conveying a sense of inflexibility and generally puts walls around the sound being described. When things are ever experimental, it’s usually a conspicuous and sharp reach for something more, yet for English-producer Jamie xx, it’s a little different. With Jamie xx’s first step away from his group The xx, he has released a record that boasts sonics that are perfectly mingled, experimental in a sophisticated way, and minimalistic while still colourful. With a refreshing and stimulating take on one of modern music’s most staple instruments, the sampler machine, Jamie xx’s debut album In Colour is able to reinvent the wheel in the most pleasing and unconventional ways possible.
After listening to this record, it becomes very clear that Jamie has a very specific yet eclectic ear, one that varies and reaches only to collect and add to a cohesive piece and aesthetic. In this respect, Jamie is flawlessly able to pull features from Young Thug, Popcaan, and bandmates Romy and Oliver Sim while having nothing look astray. The album starts with the building and jittery ‘Gosh’, with a clanging percussion based beat built around a sample built from old BBC Radio sessions. The beat never really builds and breaks, but instead swells and cracks to reveal shining synths that pierce through the fading percussion. It’s an intro that is as subtle as it is genius, and doesn’t overuse the sample in a dance-y way a la Les Sins or Hudson Mohawke. ‘The Rest Is Noise’ pulses at a similar pace, but uses more traditional chords to build on to the crisp claps. The short interlude ‘Just Saying’ toots and whistles below layers of reverb and filters, fading in and out of a key-based melody and a faint talking sample.
Not everything here is subtle and ambient, though. ‘Seesaw’ bounces at a tempo that frequent collaborator Romy is usually not accustomed to, but her voice is filtered above and beneath the beat in a fashion not far from fellow British-producer James Blake’s wheelhouse. What becomes more and more evident, however, is the contrast between this record and Jamie’s previous production cues with The xx and even with his Gil-Scott Heron remix-album, We’re New Here. On those records, his sounds seemed more muted and controlled, where here, once the track flows and progresses, it breaks into colourful blends of disco, dance, and garage. The undeniable summer banger ‘I Know There’s Gonna Be (Good Times)’ is a brilliant example. Popcaan sounds at home atop the bright and vibrant baseline, while Young Thug sounds unusually excited and joyous, bringing more of his lighthearted Barter 6 flow to the track. Where Jamie might build a space of intimacy and closeness with his straightforward song structures, he is also able to effortlessly craft catchy and even anthemic jams with the help of his excellently executed vocal features on the album.
That, in a way, is where the real genius is found on this record. While a lot of gripes with The xx have been the bland vocals and songwriting, specifically pointing at the lack of range and emotion used on tracks in general, Jamie xx is able to solicit emotion with his brilliant, shimmering production cues, making the most simple and even grotesque loops seem beautiful and compelling. ‘Hold Tight’ features a weird, off-beat loop of some kind of dialogue, but the shuttering synths and hard 808s behind it make it seem so interesting and thoughtful. ‘Sleep Sound’ is able to use samples in a similar fashion, this time by burying it beneath layers of reverb and filters while layering it between distorted harps and soft percussion that rises and floats at beat breaks. It masterfully balances the vibes of dancing your heart out in a poorly lit club in a tight room with the intimacy of sitting at your laptop with your headphones on.
If In Colour is anything, it’s lustrous balance—in the most refreshing way. It’s balancing dancehall with trap, indie with soul, and dance with trip hop. The record finds it’s pinnacle moments side by side with samples of all shapes and sizes, while Jamie is also able to impress with his brilliantly tamed drums and minimalist bass lines. It’s able to be polished and beautiful yet it exists in a space that would be best heard in grimy underground London club. While In Colour is essentially an experiment in modern bass lines and matured, nostalgic samples, it is also can be viewed as an album that invents just as much as it borrows.
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The Early Registration 