A wobbly and proudly silly pop song from London's Only Real. Like "Cadillac Girl," "Pass the Pain" tips back and forth between endearing and slightly irritating, and never quite lets us know if its relationship with the 90s is pastiche, tribute, or coincidence.
Kelela, sounding pained but calm. Le1f, floating easily in P. Morris's murky production. A good song for staring blankly into the middle distance! [Via]
In the mode of the New New New Music Criticism, which lives exclusively in Soundcloud and YouTube comments and is actually possibly an improvement, overall: "Chills!!" Nick Hakim is very good at singing. [Via]
The aesthetic incongruity of each new FKA Twigs song is starting to wear off, and all the styles are starting to settle together; if you were trying to make some kind of point, you could probably get away with saying she makes industrial music.
Jay Prince, the East London rapper, tells The 405: "I don't know, I mean it wasn't really much else, there was no big thing that happened behind it—it was just me getting back into the swing of things and just trying something new." Good enough for me!
Here is Shabazz Palaces with its first full video from Lese Majesty. The group, like this song, is all sharp edges and extreme angles—the album's tracks often don't take shape until halfway through, which is exhilarating and disorienting. In "#CAKE," Catherine Harris-White shows up about a minute and half in, starts to give us something we can hold on to, then recedes into the chaotic background again.
A funny consequence of the way people find new music now is that it's not always easy to remember where a song came from. The physical circumstances are irrelevant: Were you sitting in a chair in front of your work screen, or standing in line looking at your pleasure screen? Who cares. Did a friend send you a link, and how? Was it on one of your sites? Did an algorithm match you with it? If so, what chain of actions led it to think you might like this song? There are too many of those to replicate; who's to say where the chain started, anyway? Here is a song [...]
Here is a track from the second album by the mysterious Lewis, who, with his exhumed debut vanity record, L'Amour, became a small internet sensation. This one was recently discovered in storage at a Calgary record store. Still no sign of the man himself: Sourced soon after the re-release of L’Amour, Romantic Times is the 1985 follow-up to L’Amour – and it’s released as Lewis Baloue. The name may be slightly different, but this is absolutely our man: a familiar blond posing on the sleeve, a familiar, tortured voice pouring his heart out over languid synths and synthetic waltz beats.
The second single from Lost in the Dream, and a rare example of a song that's cheery despite its constituent parts signaling, in unison, overwhelming depressiveness.
This is an unusual song, constitutionally. Atlanta upstart iLoveMakonnen (Makonnen Sheran) released a video for his track, "Club Goin Up On A Tuesday," last month, and it was a hit. Not huge, but it got noticed. Quite noticed! So Drake shows up to guest on a remix of the same track. He doesn't bigfoot, though: he sings with deference to Sheran's style, almost in Sheran's style, higher and smoother than we've really heard him before.