Category Archives: music

PCP: “Mononokay”

Mononotony Monday #15 – Monono More Like Moyesyes

Sorority Noise is More Than Noise

The short of it: A song made me feel again, okay?

There’s a lot I want to say about Sorority Noise. They’ve quickly raced past the likes of The Front Bottoms and Modern Baseball to become my favorite emo/pop punk-y band, and, by extension, one of my favorite musical acts in general.

At first listen, I thought they were another annoying indie-lite band with nonsensical lyrics, thanks to Pandora’s recommendation of “Dirty Ickes” (“I taught myself Norse to sit on your front porch” – I mean, c’mon).

I eventually got others like “Where Are You?” and “Blonde Hair, Black Lungs,” which quickly won me over with their mix of melody and edge. I was planning to write about “Where Are You?” because of how accessible and catchy it is. Instead, I mentally pushed myself into writing about the song that nearly broke me.

I mean, shit man. That’s the first time in a long time a song’s actually stopped me in my tracks and consider myself.

What does it mean to be happy?
And am I getting better?
I used to make excuses for myself but it’s not the weather
I’ve tried to rid myself of my anxious tendencies
But I have to accept my head for what it is to me
I’m not super human
Well I’m barely alive
But I would kill to leave my house and not be afraid of the outside
So I started thinking
It’d be so nice
To not have trouble sleeping
I haven’t slept in nights

Cameron Boucher’s monotone confession is the same monologue I’ve had when it’s too late and I’ve done too much thinking.

Plus, I’m basically the same person.


PCP: “Too Old to Die Young”

Monotony Monday #14 – Mais Yeh

The Dege Ain’t Silent

The short of it: It’s one song, come on now.

Maybe it’s because I just finished binging season one of True Detective (guess what Imma gush about Wednesday) and I’m feeling hyper-nostalgic, but man, Louisiana is cool. And so is Lafayette.

I originally heard this song on the Django Unchained soundtrack and loved it on first listen. It wasn’t until I looked it up later and saw the video being filmed in my very own hometown.

The mixture of modern Delta blues and the Acadiana crowd makes this a beautiful celebration of how my home is full of culture and art. I’ve always done a double-take at anyone speaking ill of Southern attitudes towards art, and this just reaffirms how silly of a stereotype that is– and how silly all stereotypes are.

More pride (and horror) for my home coming in a few days. For now, Imma just revel in the beauty.

PCP: “Kill Jay Z”

Monotony Monday #12 – Made Man Makes More

“Kill Jay Z,” or the Death of Stale Z

The short of it: In the opening track of his latest album, Jay-Z manages to shake off the rust of years of success to share his pain. 

Despite all the uncertainty around his name (Jay Z, or Jay-Z, or JAY Z), his status as one of the greats is certain.

Unfortunately, his past string of features and singles have all been pretty lackluster. Dated references and weak brags made him more of a track liability than a legend.

It’s been a shame having to hear him go through these stale bars, knowing his distinctive sound is going to waste. He’s got that voice that sounds like it’s always on the cusp of laughing or crying– and after hearing his laugh, I tend to hope it’s crying.

But finally, here his crescendoed enunciation becomes this great conveyor of decades of emotional stress.

Upon seeing the title, I wrote this track off as being some other braggadocios cut from Watch The Throne, another, “I’m rich / they tried to kill me / never gonna scratch that itch” track that’s turned Jay incredibly boring. But instead, it’s about killing his ego. And it’s the opposite of WTT– it’s the loss of Ye and Jay over the success that’s now become a burden. It’s about the personal and public mistakes Jay’s made without addressing. It’s a lifetime of pain hidden by mainstream success that he’s finally facing head on.

Cry Jay Z, we know the pain is real / But you can’t heal what you never reveal

And these lines are for real. There’s no joking about Bey’s album or about any of his problems with the Knowles. As Anthony Fantano put it in his review, he effectively drags himself through the coals the entire song. It’s this mix of self-flagellation and recognition that he must open up to heal. It’s not pity, it’s reclamation. He’s taking credit for his mistakes and personal life, stepping up to the figure revealed by Lemonade and paparazzi. I’m not sure I can think of any other song like this. Sure, Boosie’s got his songs about his mistakes, Gates tried to clear the air about his assault case (and failed, hard, despite the fact the song bangs), Ye gets vulnerable and defends his actions, but none of them accept their failures so openly and honestly. For Jay, this seems like new ground, a sign of the softening he’s gone through as a father.

If this is killing Jay Z, then let’s hope there’s a spree.

PCP: Clams Casino’s Instrumental Mixtape 4

Monotony Monday #11 – More Mixtapes Mister

Clams Casino’s Instrumental Mixtape 4: Incremental Instrumentals

The short of it: Consistent Clammy Clams comes with it again, offering 13 mellow instrumentals that mark him as one of the most unique producers out there. 

Clams Casino came to my attention as the master producer behind Lil B’s “I’m God.”

Three instrumental tapes later (for me, he’s had a couple dozen massive hits with artists like Vince Staples and Rocky), he’s my favorite producer. Despite not quite reaching the highs of his first two tapes, his fourth still provides the ethereal melodies that make him so impressive.

Clams’ proves his mastery with the use of echoed vocals and these tiny little high notes that float over these slightly drawn out bass notes. His music is more a miasma than a melody– the tape, despite having wholly unrelated singles from different artists, blends into this cloudy experience.

It’s Clams Casino’s jackpot.

PCP: Dethklok

Monotony Monday #10 – Most Metal

Dethklok: Timeless

The short of it: Parody that outdoes its source material is rare. Not only does Dethklok successfully mock the quirks and ridiculousness of metal, it outdoes most metal bands in terms of talent and performance. 

The pilot episode of Metalocalypse portrays Dethklok as the world’s most popular band, with legions of fans willing to die to hear the band play.

Three albums (more or less) later, it’s actually understandable why their animated fans would go to the brütal slaughterhouse that is a Dethklok show.

The band is effectively just Brendon Smalls playing with himself. And the result is some of the funniest jokes about the genre delivered through genuinely great metal.

Pretty much every track manages to both kick ass and bring a grin to your face. You’ve got songs like “Dethharmonic,” with these gorgeous, orchestral strings backing this shuddering riff and it’s just beautiful.

And the song is just about not wanting to pay taxes. It’s funny on the surface level, but, like all of Dethklok’s music, makes this grander point about how dumb most metal lyrics are. Even though Small’s got wonderfully clear vocals, other metal bands’ muddled screeches and snarls disguise the utter inanity of most lyrics. And Dethklok is both pointing that out and saying that it’s actually fine– the pretentiousness and elitism that riddle the metal community are as silly as the eighteenth reference to Satan in a three minute song. If it sounds good, it’s good. If it sounds metal, it’s metal.

Dethklok, as a band, is impressive. Dethklok, as a comedic avenue, is impressive. Dethklok as a single man’s project is indescribable.

Well, maybe not.

It actually just takes three words.

Metal. As. Fuck.

PCP: Raleigh Ritchie

Monotony Monday #7 – Music n’ Missandei

Raleigh Ritchie: A Raleigh to Really Rally Behind

The short of it: With a charming mix of melancholy and joy, Raleigh Ritchie’s music is almost always an airy delight. It’s downtrodden indie pop that plays with the genre as well as Jacob Anderson plays the Unsullied leader. 

Roughly four years ago, I downloaded a “Best of June 2013” tape from Sunset in the Rearview. It came with a bit of a melancholy tune by Raleigh Ritchie, who I assumed was just another British sadboi musician that’d never get the acclaim he deserved.

Three years after that, I was screaming at my TV, begging for my favorite secondary Game of Thrones character, Grey Worm, to escape his near-deadly encounter with the Golden Harpies. As soon as he emerged in the third season, I knew he was going to be on my “Please Don’t Die” list.

Lo and behold, it turns out Jacob Anderson is just brilliant as pretty much everything he does.

With the pseudonym of Raleigh Ritchie, Anderson creates ballads of hopeful heartbreak. His music is painfully honest. He gently sings of his sad dreams and struggles, his fantasies and nightmares, everything from his luckiest stumble to his worst mistakes.

It’s absolutely delightful hearing him bounce over the noisy sounds of tracks like “Cowards” before powering over the simplistic piano tune of “Stronger Than Ever,” (my personal favorite).  Everything’s brilliantly and uniquely produced, but they’re all outshone by Anderson’s crooning and lyricism.

I’m more than familiar with the sad said of indie pop and the evolutionary successor to emo, where every girl is a beautiful devil and every fault is your own. But Anderson uses these incredibly human and tender stories of how scared he is of, well, the scariest non-scary parts of living. Growing old, changing, losing the ones you love, he manages to encapsulate them all in songs that never hit preachy or whiny. His versatility with handling the most common of fears is as stunning as the visuals in his videos.

Everything just fits so well in his music. His consistency and experimentation should clash, but they’ve yet to do so. His versatility keeps him afloat, even in the face of the most challenging music possible: Dan Harmon’s freestyling.

Man this dude’s great.

PCP: Night Lovell

Monotony Monday #5 – Meek Musical Musing

Night Lovell: Good Night and Good Luck

The short of it: Top-notch production and a consistently good flow makes Night Lovell more than his genre. 

On RL Grime’s 2015 Halloween mix, there was this one track that always blew me away. I figured Grime had done something to it, only to find out that no, Night Lovell is just that dope.

Lovell’s subgenre is hard to pin down–it’s easy to distinguish it from other artists by ear, but analysis is a little tougher. A YouTube commenter referred to it as shadow rap, I thought of it as spooky trap (cleverer name pending), but in reality, it’s closer to a more refined cloud rap.

Spooky trap takes the vocal samples and ambient production of cloud rap and combines them with a concentrated flow and darker tone. It seems to often have some form of layering on the vocals, deepening them, but not to the degree of anything Houstonian.

It’d be a lie to say the style doesn’t borrow- artists like Lovell reveal the legacy of Lil B and, by extension, Clams Casino. Lovell’s work is a reflection of other new artists from both the mainstream, like Travis Scott, and more Internet-popular artists like Jazz Cartier. The Lovell/Cartier connection is interesting- there’s multiple occasions where their production could be switched without any noticeable different. However, whereas Cartier leans more into the rap-pop sphere, Lovell’s influences are harder to specify- the closest being horror core. Lovell’s occasional usage of vividly violent image (“pool of blood”) reflects this, but, when mixed with his overt emotional honesty, create something far outside those bounds.

He features the Canadian-Carribean patois, and, much like Drake’s attempts on Views, ends up a bit short of a credible impersonation. Fortunately Lovell goes for the humor rather than the homage, elevating it above Drake’s efforts. This is where any comparison between the two ends.

Night Lovell manages to isolate himself as a unique talent in this era overflowing with soundcloud success.

Top Two Tuesday: QuESt and Boogie

Top Two Tuesday is a weekly effort to recognize two artists who deserve more attention, respect, and praise in the music world. This week is a mix of two almost similar artists that I discovered almost five years apart. They’re also almost described as another artist, although that’d almost ruin any true description of them. Almost.

The best part is both of them are currently working on their respective albums– something I’m more excited about than my own future.

High Voices, Higher Intellects


A squandered opportunist who hasn’t squandered a single beat. 

Image via @YesIAmQuESt

I was introduced to QuESt back in my backpacker days with “Gambler” off of his first project, Fear Not Failure. I promptly forgot about him.

That was a mistake.

I recently rediscovered him with his latest project, Searching Sylvan. I let one song come up on shuffle and left it. Then I listened to the entire tape in its entirety. The production was wonderfully melodic and well done, especially for an underground rapper. QuESt has this unbelievable power to spit over any beat– his voice is strange and high-pitched, but he uses it to keep pace with the production to tell stories and recite poems. He does have his certain style that he seems comfortable with– what can loosely be called Americanized grime. His production has heavy inspiration from both dubstep and DnB; the impressive thing is that he never fights it. He works with shuddering synths and deep bass so well you’d think it’s in his blood. QuESt is the hungriest rapper I’ve ever heard.

Sylvan is a loose narrative of a period of his life in his town of Miami and the struggles he faced as a person, a musician, a son, a friend, and a citizen. He plows through quick tempos to shout his frustrations as a “struggle rapper” in the aptly titled “Struggle Rapper,” then turns around and bounces through disappointments in “Erase Me.” The interludes and skits, including one from Tupac, are both personal and relatable– QuESt manages to give the listener a view of Miami from his perspective without dominating the narrative.

This is where the terrible comparison starts.

Searching Sylvan is like a more human good kid, MAAD city. Where Kendrick discusses the city of Compton and the struggle of everyone there, QuESt goes deeper into his emotions and personal reflections and painful struggles of a man trying to find his dream. Don’t get me wrong, gkMC is still my favorite album of all time– but there’s something staggering in Sylvan. 

Listen to:

1. Struggle Rapper

2. Erase Me

3. Automatic

4. The Memories


1. Searching Sylvan

2. Fear Not Failure


A man whose thirst for success is matched only by his criticism of thirsty-ness. 

Photo by Jack Wagner for LA Weekly.

Boogie punched his way into my ears with Oh My (produced by Jahlil Beats, who has made some of my absolute favorite Kevin Gates beats). For someone who is just barely breached the scene, Boogie is terrifyingly polished. He’s mastered his flow and style almost immediately. His content is far from your expected, “I’m going to come up and be the best, I’ll call out these other rappers!” Instead, he has a way of reflecting and critiquing the life around him. His raps aren’t intimate as much as they are friendly– he talks like a friend on the corner, looking at life and his city and calling out what troubles him with a certain degree of quiet wisdom.

Thirst 48, arguably my favorite title of anything from the past few years, has this beautiful, consistent tone that Boogie takes full advantage of. The skits and interludes, including one from Tupac, are brief and offer a little bit of insight into what Boogie sees. He never changes from this personable, laid-back mood, even if he’s going off over brass or atmospheric echoes. His songs invoke vivid images of LA streets in the summer.

This is where the terrible comparison starts.

Boogie is like an LA Chance the Rapper (odd, seeing how he’s older than Chance). He’s confident on sing-song melodies and he’s just as confident on bangers (re: Oh My). He’s not afraid to change his flow or break it entirely. Now my only concern is that Boogie sticks to killer raps and doesn’t lose himself to sing-song nonsense.

Just kidding, there isn’t a chance he’ll go in any direction but up.

Listen to:

1. Oh My

2. Bitter Raps

3. Save Me

4. Let Me Rap


1. Thirst 48

Top Two Tuesday: Kevin Gates and Future

Top Two Tuesday is a weekly effort to recognize two artists who deserve more attention, respect, and praise in the music world. Who better to start with than my two favorite artists, including the one who reassured each of us that, You Deserve It?

The Melodic Marauders

Kevin Gates

Louisiana rapper and honest-to-a-fault talent.

Image via

Gates is a master. He’s my favorite rapper– not just from Louisiana or the south, I mean ever. He’s a weirdo, his PR is less than great, and he’s done some pretty bad things. But he’s so much more than that. His music is painfully honest from the get go; there’s no need to hide in introspective songs to reveal his feelings. Every song is pure like that (using pure in a very strict sense, dude’s into some freaky stuff). The point is, I’ve never gotten a deceptive vibe or even a hint of falsity from his music. There is no behind-the-curtain Kevin. He exists wholly in his melodies and verses, be they from his 2007 mixtape Pick of Da Litter (one of my favorite mixtape titles, up there with Boogie’s Thirst 48 and Big Bear’s Doin’ Thangs) or his most recent release, Luca Brasi 2.

His music is powerful at points and silly at others. He has a song about Twilight and a song about attempted murders. Both of them are fantastic. His hooks are usually flawless and his beat selection nearly always compliments both his sing-songy styles and his hardest verses.

I don’t call him my favorite rapper lightly. There aren’t many rappers that have their best songs in both their first release and their latest.

Listen to:

  1. I Don’t Get Tired (#IDGT) ft. August Alsina
  2. Satellites
  3. Angels
  4. Wylin


  1. Stranger Than Fiction 
  2. The Luca Brasi Story
  3. By Any Means
  4. Luca Brasi 2


The sing-songy future of hip-hop.

Future honestly doesn’t need any more recognition– he’s a monster. Those two serve as more than just a lame hyperlink joke; as a musician, Future has evolved brilliantly. He got his initial recognition with the high-pitched, crooning hits from his debut album Pluto and the follow-up, Honest. I never took him seriously when he first blew up (I was still in my terrible backpacker days), only occasionally guiltily indulging in hits like the aforementioned “You Deserve It” and “Turn on the Lights.” Long after I had put down the backpack and the pretentiousness stuffed in it, someone linked me to “Throw Away” off of Monster. I downloaded the mixtape immediately and, after a few listens, knew it was my number one project of 2014. He’s embraced the killer croons/hooks of his older stuff while exploring a darker vibe and production. His honesty and melodies, much like Kevin Gates, are unbelievable. It’s rare for me to revisit someone’s work after burning myself out on it– I can’t seem to do that with Future. He’s locked himself in with some of the best producers in the game, and he knows it. His recent stream of projects are individually fantastic; as a series, with little time between them, they are seemingly unmatched. Even though I just got finished listening to his most recent project, I’m already tapping my foot for his upcoming tape with Mike Will Made It. His stream of quality work and consistency mean he’s going to be an industry leader for a long, long time. And I could not be more excited.

Listen to:

1. Codeine Crazy

2. After That ft. Lil Wayne

3. March Madness

4. Just Like Bruddas


1. Monster

2. 56 Nights 

3. Beast Mode 

Top Fives are for chumps

These are my top four records of 2014 since fives are for chumps. I’ve included what I think are the best tracks on each release, as well as what makes these records so special to me beyond the fact that they’re great music.

4. Life After Deathrow – Boosie Badazz

Best of: “The Fall”

This album means: Home.

I’m not going to lie, I was excited when Boosie finally got out of prison. He’s a legend in Louisiana, and, like Kevin Gates, a symbol of my home. His string of features were mostly garbage though and it felt like he had faded away. Once this tape came out though, it blew away all those disappointments and gave light to a Boosie with better beat selection and some killer lyricism (“‘We got you on six bodies and two attempts’ / I said, ‘Sir, you’re lying cause I don’t do attempts'” on the damn INTRO). Although the middle of the tape suffers a bit from the 2002-era Boosie sound, it ends strong with emotion-packed “O Lord.” He gets “Louisiana’s Tupac” for a reason– Boosie’s better than ever.

3. My Krazy Life – YG 

Best of: “I Just Wanna Party (ft. Schoolboy Q and Jay Rock)”

This album means: Finding happiness in my musical progression.

With skits that come off as a clips from a gangster’s life in the style of The Slim Shady LP and good kid, MAAD city, this album was another surprise for me. I transitioned pretty quickly from underground backpack nonsense to mainstream rap. MKL is just another sign of that– I enjoy this album way more than any pretentious mess from some kid in Maine. My favorite album of all time is arguably GKMC and MKL gives you the exact other side of the issues in Compton. That’s such a dynamic shift to me– the seemingly shallow antagonists that haunt Kendrick are the ones that won’t stop popping back up in my playlists. The production is killer and YG creates a few near-perfect tracks. The only reason it goes behind #2 is my lack of familiarity with most of the tracks and the album’s lack of diversity. Its high points are higher than most of #2’s, so it still deserves a lot of respect.

2. Oxymoron – Schoolboy Q


Best of: “Prescription/Oxymoron”

This album means: Driving in the snow.

This was the fourth album I bought in Columbia (after Born Sinner, Trap Lord, and My Name is My Name). I have vivid memories of driving back from Best Buy listening to this album and clearing snow off my car while hearing “Gangsta” and “What They Want.” There are some moments on here that really haunt me– 2 Chainz’ verse on “What They Want,” Q’s young daughter popping up every so often in the midst of songs about selling drugs and murders, the flawless production on “Prescription/Oxymoron.” Although the bonus tracks can really drag this album down, its base edition is a well-done rollercoaster of messages and moods. Every song, from the celebratory “Collard Greens” to the aggressive “The Purge,” feels purely Q. If this was a competition between the deluxe editions, My Krazy Life would probably edge ahead of Oxymoron; with base editions, however, Q just barely ends up ahead of YG. His persona, his life are so evident in these tracks, it’s hard to speak ill of this unbelievably authentic record. It gives me the same kind of memories that obviously motivate Q to write his songs, things you don’t forget and shape you into your final product.

1. Monster – Future


Best of: “Codeine Crazy”

The album means: Everything I’ve felt this year.

It’s hard to argue against the fact that my biggest complaint is that a single skit kind of bugs me. A few years ago, I would have written off Future as some “autotune garbage, not real rap!” and called it a day. Instead, some random kid on /r/hiphopheads links a single song off of Monster (“Throw Away” which fights with “Codeine Crazy” as my favorite off the tape) and I had to download it. Come 2015, it’s the only thing I still keep on repeat. Maybe it’s because it’s so recent compared to other releases like Oxymoron. But I mean, I have a slight issue with the hook on “2Pac” and “Abu’s Booming” irks me, but that’s it. Monster exceeded my expectations for a simple tape and beat out my feelings for any studio release this year (including Honest). Monster means more to me than a mixtape; it means emotional turmoil, anger, sadness, talking nonsense with friends, loneliness, happiness, partying and sitting alone in the dark. Future’s clarity and honesty allow his music to really hit home. It means so much more to me than any other tape this year. It’s a comforting step in my journey with hip-hop. I can’t even see the stairs behind me anymore. Just another couple of flights of some good music. Monster just happens to be the last one of the year.

Honorable Mentions and Accolades

2014 had a lot of killer singles– hell, a lot of albums and tapes almost made it on my top four by sheer strength of their singles (cough cough, Mastermind). But these aren’t just albums with good singles; these are albums I didn’t spend enough time with or just didn’t sit right with me despite knowing I should.

Album I Should Appreciate More

Pinata – Freddie Gibbs & Madlib

Madlib’s work is constantly referred to as “dusty” and “brilliant” and other terms that people who think vinyl makes sense use. Gibbs is impeccable, and songs like “Thuggin'” and “Deeper” are A+. But most of the album just faded past me, I felt too slow to appreciate it.

Nicest Surprise

Neon Icon – Riff Raff

I absolutely love “Time.” I genuinely do. “Kokayne,” on the other side of the energy spectrum, is like liquid cocaine in your veins. “How To Be The Man,” “Tip Toe Wing in My Jawwwdinz” are fun as hell. “Jody 3 Moons” is probably my favorite skit. All in all, a pleasant surprise from Jody.

Best Traditionally Southern Album

Cadallactica – Big KRIT

It’s a problem when a single made to hype up the album is better than most of the tracks on the actual album. “Mt. Olympus” was a-damn-mazing and arguably overshadows even the title track off this album. That being said, KRIT undeniably holds the title of New King of the South.

Best Shower Album

2014 Forest Hills Drive – J. Cole

I really liked listening to this in the shower. Don’t ask me why. Cole can speak the common man’s truth and this has held my attention a lot longer/better than Born Sinner. Biggest problem is the le wrong generation speak Cole occasionally gets in to, but this is still crazy good.