Had such an amazing time in Atlanta last night connecting with some wonderful artists at @americansushirecording ! We can't thank @stonejone enough for bringing everyone together. We are so grateful to have met and worked with some amazing people. See you tonight in Nashville at @rudysjazzroom ! • • • @rudysjazzroom #Nashville #Atlanta @gretschdrums @officialgretsch @wearenovation @ableton • #oracleblueband #oracleblue #originalmusic #music #altjazz #swankpop #ableton #novation #drummer #trumpet #talkbox #keyboard #piano #bass #vocalist #singer #livemusic #liveband #touringband #gildedkingdoms #band #southcarolina
"There is an interaction and action, reaction between two people. One should show honesty in a relationship. Be honest to your partner and tell him everything. How long can you do things with dishonesty and that's wrong. Don't get into a relationship if you can't be honest." . "Hey Everyone, I'm James" "Drummer and BF of that crazy chick Marie" "Dont mind me much, Im just riding along with her schemes" . #illustration #creative #drawing #picture #digitalart #artist #asthetic #originalcharacter #band #sketchbook #sketch #artoftheday🎨 #art #james #friend #friendship #duo #drummer #bestfriendgoals #relationship #smart #science #partner #cartoon #storyart
A much-needed lunch date with my freshman in high school but still my baby boy 💚 #MarchingBand #LuvMyBoys #performingartskid 🎶🎹🎷 #musicproducer #music #baseballplayer ⚾️ #musicscholarship #Band #saxophone #piano #ScholarAthlete #Greatness #hhsmarchingband 💙❤ #Homeowner #AtlRealEstateChick #atlrealtor #creditrepairatl #homebuyingatl #realtoratl #realtormcdonough #renttoownatl #atlbestrealtor #homesearchatl #homeinspectionatl #newhomeatl #mcdonoughrealtor #covingtonrealtor #stockbridgerealtor #brokeratl #atlbroker
🎵Ein Teil von meinem Herzen - Jonathan Zelter Gesang: Franzi & Tanja ————————————————— #delicious #musikschulegersthofen #gersthofen #augsburg #band #music #livemusic #coverband #popband #musicians #songs #live #singer #musik #hochzeit #wedding #weddingmusic #taufe #firmenevent #birthday #geburtstagsfeier #gesang #duett #girlgroup
"One of the greatest journeys in life is overcoming insecurity and learning to truly not give a shit" . #illustration #creative #drawing #picture #digitalart #artist #asthetic #originalcharacter #band #sketchbook #sketch #artoftheday🎨 #art #marie #star #friend #friendship #duo #guitarist #bassist #bass #guitar #cartoon #storyart
The Band- “The Last Waltz” is a who’s who live recording of some of the greatest names in music coming to sing and play with The Band. A collaborative band for 16 years this is their last concert and a celebration of life and music. We hear in this album the way that The Band can conform and fit the mold of the performer before them. They are pure, existential, and just what the music industry needs-musicians with no egos-it’s ultimately only about the music, emotion, and that feeling you get when everything goes just right. Martin Scorsese documents the concert and The Band in a documentary called The Last Waltz. Watch it and understand what true collaboration looks like. #music #art #band #vinyl #collection Recorded live in San Francisco, Culver City, Malibu, and Los Angeles, CA for Warner Brothers in 1978
Two guitar slingers 😃. Today was our debut show with #redbaron. It was packed! @hotelsonnevanck with @freddykoridon #janpeterbeijersbergen #jay-p @geluidwerkplaats #music #drum #drummer #live #blues #wijkaanzee #band #live #musician #drummerworld #drums #guitar
"Hello ❤, Im Nicole " "The new guitarist and apprentice of Miss Marie" "Im still a rough around the edge but I think all will go well, I hope" . #illustration #creative #drawing #picture #digitalart #artist #asthetic #originalcharacter #band #sketchbook #sketch #artoftheday🎨 #art #star #guitar #guitarist #introduction #apprentice #newgirl #cartoon #storyart
On her seventh album, the pop mega-force leaves behind the anger that fuelled its predecessor, Reputation instead opting for open-hearted love songs The title of Taylor Swift’s seventh album isn’t misleading. After 2017’s bitter and combative Reputation, she’s returned to the wide-eyed but incisive romantic pop that made her a superstar. It’s telling that terrible lead single "Me!" has been relegated to track 16 at the tail end of the album. With playful lyrics like “I know that I’m a handful, baby," it’s supposed to be a sparkling reintroduction to Swift’s fun side, but tries too hard and ends up sounding like a jingle for a cheesy TV ad. Thankfully, it’s one of only two major misfires. The other, spare opening track "I Forgot You Existed," is a tedious Reputation retread. Much of Lover is far more infectious. “‘I love you’ – ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?’” Swift sings knowingly on "Cruel Summer," a brilliant pop song co-written with Annie “St. Vincent” Clark. The equally fantastic "I Think He Knows" tip-toes as close to funk as Swift can get away with, and peaks with one of those economical-yet-evocative lyrics that she built her pre-Reputation reputation on. Other Lover highlights are more stripped back. The title track is a lovely, dusky nugget that suggests Swift could have been an alt-country singer if she’d wanted. The glistening synth-pop of "The Archer," is home to another excellent melody, benefits from an effortlessness and lightness of touch. Despite the odd dud, Lover is a welcome reminder of her songwriting skills and ability to craft sonically inviting pop music. Together with co-producers including Jack “Bleachers” Antonoff and Joel Little (Lorde, Khalid), she’s made another slick and accessible record flecked with surprising production flourishes. To call Lover a comeback feels like a reach considering that Reputation, her lowest-selling album to date, still went triple Platinum in the US. So let’s just say that the old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now – ‘cause she’s busy writing songs that suit her again.
It has been through their subtle imagery that Bon Iver’s albums have followed a flawless pattern. 2008’s For Emma, Forever Ago painted a bleak winter, the eponymous follow-up evoked a frenzied spring, and 22, A Millionfound Bon Iver in the full bloom of summer. We now approach autumn in the world of Bon Iver, a new season that doesn’t arrive without its own set of chaos. Introduced by “Yi” and sharply followed by “iMi," both tracks are illustrated by a daunting and echoing radio static which carries the distorted vocals on its burdened shoulders. The lyrics “I like you / And that ain’t nothing new” as the song draws to a close provide a stark comedown from all the madness. It is not all chaotic, however. Moments of atmospheric bliss that have become commonplace on Bon Iver records are still intact on this instalment. “Faith” is emphasised by an impactful, crashing crescendo, whilst “Holyfields,” with its climbing synths paint a steady and assured track. Tangled in amongst the usual quirks of Bon Iver’s craft lie moments of sheer pop genius. “Hey, Ma” being the most exceptional. A song fit for radio and the pinnacle of easy listening, it further demonstrates their universal appeal. “U Man (Like)," though contrasting many of Iver’s previous work, is nothing short of remarkable. The pop-esque melodies and the cool and sophisticated feel make it truly irresistible. This is an album that you can feel as well as experience, perhaps the most complete Bon Iver album to date. Justin Vernon’s emotive approach to the album balances the individual and the communal with perfect precision. With a firmer grasp on reality and a new and brighter perspective, a unique mix of creativity and bewilderment remains at the core of Bon Iver.
The bedroom-pop songs that Clairo, née Claire Cottrill, has released since her 2017 breakout, “Pretty Girl,” have often seemed like they’ve been transmitted from behind a glass wall. Mining the pain of adolescence, and her generalized lyrics can have a distancing effect. So, it’s surprising when the 20-year-old opens her debut album, Immunity, by revisiting the night a friend prevented her from committing suicide. The rest of the album is just as raw and covered in open wounds. Produced by former Vampire Weekend member Rostam Batmanglij, Immunity is steeped in warm acoustics, a sharp pivot from the synth palette that Clairo has previously favored. At the center of it all, though, is Cottrill herself. Her characteristically impassive vocal strikes a poignant contrast with her lyrics. On “White Flag,” her voice icily glides over reedy guitars and synths as she laments, “I was 15 when I first felt loneliness.” Cottrill, who came out as bisexual last year, embraces her sexuality in a way that’s pensive and unreserved. “Sofia” conjures a sweet vision of young queer love over a chugging, anthemic guitar: “I think we could do it if we tried/Sofia, know that you and I shouldn’t feel like a crime.” “Bags,” finds Cottrill navigating the line between friend and lover with a crush who could be straight. Her approach pinpoints ephemeral moments with a wide-eyed recollection: the sensation of fingertips on her back, a mane of hair blowing in the wind, a love interest standing in a doorway. In spite of its title, the central theme of Immunity is fragility. Time and time again, Cottrill reveals how susceptible she is to unshakable loneliness (“White Flag”), the inevitable growing apart of young lovers (“Impossible”), the physical limitations caused by her rheumatoid arthritis (“I Wouldn’t Ask You”). But it’s evident that Cottrill is done feigning immunity. Life, Cottrill tells us, is full of loose ends, lingering emotions, and unfinished business. When reconciling these limitations proves difficult, if not impossible, Cottrill turns inward to find a sense of certainty to hold fast to.
Lil Nas X’s “Old Town Road” has burrowed itself into the consciousness of an entire nation, managing to stay at No. 1 for countless weeks and elbowing out Elmo on the elementary-school popularity index. It’s part luck, part genius, part of the YeeHaw agenda, a song so unstoppable, it has actually shifted the status quo of country music and is currently one of the biggest singles—and memes—of all time. On Lil Nas X’s debut 7—a 19-minute EP bookended with the Billy Ray Cyrus remix and the original version of “Old Town Road”—he opens himself up to the criticism that “Old Town Road” bypassed. Each new song on 7 is an attempt at stumbling into another lighthearted hit. We don’t learn a single thing about Lil Nas X on 7 other than he might have actually been born in a Reddit test tube in 2018. His collaborations with the production duo Take A Daytrip are soulless. On “Panini,” Lil Nas X has a droll personality unaided by the gimmicks of his signature hit. So it makes sense that “Rodeo,” his second track with Take A Daytrip, is a desperate return to the bulletproof cowboy persona. “Rodeo” hits all the beats of 2018’s “Mo Bamba” and feels like Lil Nas X just praying that the “Old Town Road” goodwill has enough legs to latch onto this single. It probably does. For the entirety of 7, it’s unclear if Lil Nas X actually likes music. He uses a lazy, out-of-tune melody on the reflective “Kick It,” a song that looks back on the past six months. Then, there’s the sloppy finale “C7osure (You Like),” which sounds like B.o.B. got hired to make a J.C. Penney commercial in 2010. Eventually, one of these songs on 7 will draft behind the still-overwhelming charm of “Old Town Road” and find success of its own, and Lil Nas X will be there online, with his savvy internet wit, ready to saddle up and burn another meme to the ground. What he lacks in musicality he makes up for in Instagram followers, boots he can strap on whenever he needs to remind people that he’s the great unifier, the one who tore down the walls of a genre. When that’s all over, what’s left will be “Old Town Road,” an all-time hall-of-fame pop hit that will one day be explained with an “I guess you had to be there.”
There is transformative power coursing through the 12 songs on Emily Alone, the new album from indie-folk project Florist. It’s not loud or showy or self-serving or generous. It’s just there, simple and plainspoken, waiting to be engaged and willing to move through anyone who needs it. Presumably, that’s what happened to Emily Sprague, the singer-songwriter named in the album’s title. Last winter, she wrote and recorded Emily Alone during a period of isolation and personal reflection spurred by the death of her mother and a move across the country. On Emily Alone, Sprague strips down her songs to their barest elements, leaving only her voice, words and plucked acoustic guitar to carry the message. What’s left is not just bedroom-recorded confessional music, but pure introspection, confusion, and emotion rubbed raw and exposed to the world. These songs are not sad so much as they channel the ebbs and flows of life lived inside a human brain with startling accuracy. “I write and I read / I spend time in the sea, but nothing brings clarity to what makes me me,” Sprague sings in “As Alone,” the album’s opener. She knows enough, though, to comfort herself from the second-person point of view later in the song: “Emily, just know that you’re not as alone as you feel in the dark,” she sings over and over as her guitar seesaws back and forth between two chords. The songs on Emily Alone sound similar to one another. But listen closely and you’ll find their subtle differences. There are tracks that are more melodic, such as “Moon Begins,” with its hypnotic finger-picking and airy chorus about death and love, and “Now,” which pairs the album’s catchiest melody with a traditional-sounding folk-guitar pattern. On “Ocean Arms,” Sprague hangs the faint drone of a synthesizer behind her whispered vocals: “Why do I feel so happy when I stare at the ocean?” she sings. “Then devastated when I stare at the ocean?” Does this sound like something that would appeal to everyone? Perhaps you have to be in the right place for Emily Alone to impact you fully. But if you’re there, you’ll feel it. And if you’re not there, that’s OK. When you’re ready, Florist will be there waiting for you.
“I got high expectations. You’re gonna have to get this right”. On her highly anticipated debut album, Mabel opens with what seems to be a sentiment aimed at herself more than anyone else. A rising star in the UK’s music scene, the 23-year-old comes from a musical dynasty so the pressure to perform comes down on her twofold and, thankfully, she doesn’t let us down. There’s a natural coolness to Mabel. Raised in Sweden by her parents Neneh Cherry – yes, the Neneh Cherry of Buffalo Stance fame – and Cameron McVey, who produced albums for Massive Attack and All Saints, and carrying a north London twang, she had no chance of being anything but compelling. Where most artists her age would have had to cut their teeth on cutesie tunes for a younger audience, she cuts straight to the chase with this slick and very mature R&B album. "Don’t Call Me Up," a dancehall-inspired pop rocket, is undoubtedly one of the songs of the summer – nay, the year – with its anthemic chorus and cataclysmic, bass-heavy breakdown that causes a tremble on the dance floor. Using attitude as armour, she delivers an all or nothing stance on the pulsating and self-destructive "We Don’t Say," which sounds like a response to the narcotically-charged music of The Weeknd, and running off a recharged playground chant and clap beat, she taunts a lover into giving her more on "Selfish Love." On ballads like "Trouble" and "I Belong To Me," she lets down her guard and gives an insight into her more sensitive side. In these raw moments, she cuts back on the low-slung, slurred affectations – ones that Ariana Grande favours on her latest albums – and puts more power into her vocals. Very much a zeitgeist pop star, Mabel has tapped into the unfazed pop style that singers like Dua Lipa, Rihanna and, more recently, Billie Eilish have been flooding the charts with for the last couple of years. Unfortunately, this means that the production on the album feels too safe or too familiar at times. Few songs on the record pound as hard as "Don’t Call Me Up" but as she progresses in her career, hopefully she’ll stop riding the popular chart trends and will soon be the one who creates them.
“Slow Mover” is more than just one of the titles on Australian singer-songwriter Angie McMahon’s exceptional debut. It also describes her measured and deliberate career so far. But despite the simmering burn it took to get here, and the unhurried roll out that makes Salt one of the most anticipated releases by a new artist, the final product was worth the wait. On the opening track, you get a microcosm of McMahon’s approach to her career and music. It starts with the ragged unaccompanied strumming of an electric guitar as McMahon whispers the lyrics immediately enticing the listener into her sphere. Drums and bass then gradually enter as momentum builds and McMahon’s husky yet reserved voice raises like a ghost taking human form as the track closes like it began. It’s an unexpected way to open an album. But as these unusually constructed songs unwind and McMahon’s vocals take the spotlight, it’s clear she’s an artist forging her own path. It takes until the third track, “Keeping Time,” for the pulse to increase into a more indie rocking style as she nearly howls “I’ve done me harm” as the band thumps behind her. Her songs twist, turn, revolve and unwind eschewing standard structures; it’s music played by traditional instruments never quite assembled this way. There’s drama and power that’s never forced or affected. McMahon’s songs are about relationships, not exactly unique subject matter. Still, the way she expresses herself lyrically and especially vocally forges fresh, introspective and painfully personal ways of addressing the topic. The ten tracks lead up to a closing, seven-minute epic “If You Call” where McMahon again dissects a romantic entanglement with “I’m putting down the habit … of looking back on all of it and wishing I had done better” as she both whistles and moans the words against raw acoustic strumming. It’s a practically solo performance that feels as if you’re sitting in her bedroom as she unravels the tune for you only. This is clearly an album to be absorbed, perhaps alone, as you read the words and let the music wash over you, taking you places few singer-songwriters dare to explore, let alone those on their first albums.
Hip-hop's good guy has a confession to make. Yes, Chance the Rapper — the church-going, gospel-inclined, typically chipper MC — has learned the hard way about being a better husband. On "We Go High," a key track from new LP The Big Day, Chance reveals fresh blemishes on his seemingly squeaky clean image. Over forlorn horn samples and high-pitched percussion that pops and clunks in grippingly distinctive fashion, Chicago's golden boy spits about transgressing and drifting far enough from his wife that she treats him like she's "celibate" before nimbly rhyming that word with the "elephant" haunting every room of their home. It's but one of the many fearlessly soul-bearing, sonically unique highlights on this 22-track LP. Chance spits unflinchingly vulnerable bars on "Do You Remember" and "5 Year Plan." He also balances the trouble-in-paradise revelations of "We Go High," with the martial bliss of "Found A Good One (Single No More)," making for a viscerally relatable narrative. Not merely one, but two indie rock gods grace "Do You Remember." Death Cab for Cutie's Ben Gibbard offers a reliably earnest and heart-wrenching chorus, while the alpha to his omega, Justin Vernon (aka Bon Iver) serves up distorted snippets of backup choir singing, like gusts of wind that'll send shivers up your spine. Megan Thee Stallion steals the show on the mellow "Handsome" with gleefully empowering lines like "Bad bitch with a lot of options / After me, it's really hard to top it." The guests offer a vast spectrum of sounds to The Big Day, ensuring its hour-plus runtime never bores. En Vogue's turn on "I Got You (Always and Forever)" brings '90s New Jack Swing back to life with an elegant vengeance, while the aforementioned "Do You Remember" would fit snugly on both any indie rock and hip-hop playlist. So yes, 22 tracks is a lot. But unlike other lengthy recent rap albums (*cough* Scorpion), The Big Day has enough ideas, sounds and flows to justify its vast breath. What's more: it finally gives us a glimpse at Chance's multitudes, letting us accompany him to the altar and the confessional, instead of restricting him to the pulpit.