on the pulse - 2023 - #16 - drake, ed sheeran, james blake, dessa, metric, jorja smith, lydia loveless, jlin

Jlin - Perspective - So this is an odd case - I remember covering Jlin’s first few projects in the mid-to-late 2010s focusing on IDM and footwork, but her rise into more classical circles has been interesting to watch, first scoring a ballet in 2018 with Autobiography, and in 2022 working on a project with Third Coast Percussion called Perspectives, which also brought in Philip Glass and Danny Elfman. That album got nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, so this EP is basically the electronic remix of Jlin’s portion of that album - normally I don’t cover remix projects, but it’s been a while since I’ve covered any new Jlin music and it was a short enough EP to examine. And I’d call it a step back in the right direction - keeping a lot of the more textured raw percussion and drum textures that came with working with Third Coast Percussion, but bringing in the needle-sharp programmed grooves to compliment that texture, like the impressively organic ‘Dissonance’ or how the whirring trap hi-hats sliced around the off-kilter African percussion and gurgling synths on ‘Paradigm’, the latter of which only got more pronounced and sizzling on ‘Obscure’ and almost oppressively harsh on the oily ‘Derivative’. But what I liked even more was her return to both the haunted marimbas and ghostly synths playing across ‘Fourth Perspective’ in order to augment the trap whirs and impressively dynamic bubbling bass groove, and then the tinkling waves of chimes riding the elegant strings and deeper drums into the fluttery pianos for probably the prettiest song she’s made since ‘Black Ballet’ - it shows that while she does still have some roots near acts like Aphex Twin in IDM, a more interesting melodic palette serves as a great compliment to her percussive verve. Overall, I’m happy that Jlin is embracing more organic textures while still nailing her distinctive blend and command of atmosphere, and this was a really damn good EP; if you’re into this brand of IDM and footwork, there’s no excuse not to give this a shot!

Lydia Loveless - Nothing’s Gonna Stand In My Way Again - The theme in my review of 2020’s Daughter was high expectations - Lydia Loveless was coming off a period where they put out two of the best albums of the last decade and several of the best songs, and Daughter feeling like a slower, more nocturnal and introspective project was a natural step, especially that year. Now in 2023, with Lydia Loveless reuniting with Bloodshot Records after the ugly turmoil there, it feels like there’s a clean slate for whatever could be coming next, especially in a really strong year for country… and what we got is a pretty damn good album, easily their most upbeat and swaggering since Indestructible Machine but continuing the difficult arc of maturity and self-awareness of their last few projects. If Real was the album mid-collapse and Daughter was picking through the pieces, this is where Lydia Loveless has reached if not closure, the self-assuredness to face the difficult emotional messes in front of them, very much aware of their own limitations and flaws and with the added boon of recognizing the emotional toll it’s all taken, but with the bedraggled confidence of having weathered the storm; they’re going to do the right thing for once, and while it’s gonna hurt, nothing’s gonna stand in their way and you can believe it now. That said, when you start digging into the details, it’s hard to escape the feeling this doesn’t have the same impact, and it’s not because they’ve found maturity. In part I think it’s the lyrical detail has taken a backseat in favour of punchier, more immediate compositions, which I’m not sure needed to happen; Lydia Loveless has always had a knack for strong melodic hooks and pithy turns of phrase, but there are fewer that feel lived in to the same extent as an ‘Everything’s Gone’ or ‘Midwestern Guys’. And I also think the production has taken a step back, this time with the assistance of Sean Sullivan, known for his engineering work with Sturgill Simpson, Margo Price and Tyler Childers; not that he does a bad job as some of the scuzzier, squonking guitars - when he lets the mix simmer like on ‘Feel’ and ‘Runaway’ or erupt across the background on ‘Toothache’ it can create potent results - and more chipper backing vocals, but you can tell on a textural level this album is painting with a broader country rock brush; it just doesn’t feel as distinctive in its atmosphere, which you notice on the ballads with the broader strings sections and pianos, but also with the occasional synth that’s more weedy than well-blended, or the basslines that don’t have that anxious punch, ‘Sex and Money’ is one of the exceptions here and it’s one of the best songs here! As a whole… again, I think is a really good album with a few great moments, but in comparison with their best, this is a thinner and spottier Lydia Loveless release. Absolutely worth a listen… just temper your expectations.

Jorja Smith - falling or flying - It’s been five years since I’ve covered Jorja Smith in some way… well, really five years since I’ve thought about Jorja Smith at all. Part of this is the fact I only found Lost & Found decent instead of great, part of this was a comparison to Rihanna that Jorja Smith couldn’t quite shake with music that didn’t quite have the unique character to overcome, part of it is the fact that this is her first album in five years outside of an EP in 2021. But okay, digging into this… well, it’s once again frustrating as the sort of project that I mostly like but don’t find as special, especially in R&B the past year or so where you can tell that acts like Janelle Monae, Amaarae, and especially SZA have tread this ground better - all the alternative R&B indebted to the 2000s and even dabbling in pop rock on ‘GO GO GO’ reminds me a lot of SOS in particular, although I do think she executes it pretty well. So while I appreciate that Jorja Smith is expanding her production palette into more clattering, tropical, afrobeat, even garage and house-inspired percussion with more organic basslines and guitars - the mixing is sharper and the grooves are more uptempo, so even if the album can feel its length on the slower back half it doesn’t quite drag - the templates of her sound can feel very obvious. I think some of this is a factor of Jorja Smith’s delivery and diction here - her singing can sound passionate, but there’s always something that’s felt guarded and reserved about her delivery, well composed but lacking a certain warmth to really pull me in. And while the tension that comes with embracing vulnerability and getting a partner to do the same is an underlying theme to much of this project, I’m not always gripped by it when Jorja Smith says one hand she’s an open book while throughout the album she makes it clear you’ll never figure her out and prefers to leave people guessing; maybe it’s a factor of her delivery, maybe it’s how a lot of these lyrics feel oblique and lacking greater detail to paint the scene, but I’m just not as compelled by the implied mystery and angst behind the deflection, even if fragments like ‘Try and fit in’ and ‘Backwards’ attempt to add that context. There are exceptions - I love the sandy balance against the smoky electric guitars on the title track with a great hook, ‘Greatest Gift’ with Lila Iké is a soulful love song with a terrific groove and backing vocals - makes up for J Hus completely missing the energy of ‘Feelings’ - the playful garage cut ‘Little things’… I dunno, there are moments I’m intrigued by this album, but never as much as I want to be. Not a bad listen, it’s got moments, but this album has me neither falling nor flying, and that might be a problem.

Metric - Formentera II - The odd thing about 2022’s Formentera is that while I considered it one of their more adventurous albums for how it swerved into alternative dance and more extended compositions, it was an experiment that paid mixed rewards from their already rock-solid formula, especially given how Art of Doubt was such a powerful return to form. So seeing a sequel or sister album just a year later had me wondering how they could push the experimentation… but calling this is a sister album is a bit of a misnomer, because while thematically the arc somewhat continues, the electronic elements have picked up a different timbre. Also, it’s nowhere near as good to a frankly alarming extent across the board, even with Metric’s high floor of quality that will ensure at least Joshua Winstead’s basslines and most of the chunkier guitar grooves are good. But the synth textures are this oily, quasi-psychedelic mass that flattens much of the album, and with slower tempos and as many programmed beats the extended track lengths begin to really test my patience; it’s shorter than Formentera but feels longer, and that’s not a good sign especially when the melodic hooks aren’t as sticky. Then there’s the production around Emily Haines’ voice - Metric has always been pretty good in leveraging electronic effects around her unique tone and energy, but the mixing is really off this time: compressed, tinny, with higher frequencies left in that clash in an ugly way with the goopier synths, the vocal production actively gave me a headache with every repeated listen and that’s a bad sign! And then there’s the content, and I’ll give Metric credit because this arc makes sense: if the first Formentera was set up post-lockdown as leveraging frustration and panic, longing for escape, this is the album that having found the escape realizes that you can’t get away from bad systems all around you worldwide that have you feeling even smaller, especially when paired with something of a career reckoning as the band has gotten older and things haven’t felt like they’ve gotten better. And then Metric follows into what could feel like a natural conclusion, what would be framed as optimistic nihilism, where it takes the existential confusion and a realization that in the grand scheme of the universe so much of this does not matter, so why waste time wallowing in panic and misery, you need an escape, that freedom can be a relief. It’s a theme that for older, socially conscious punks like Metric makes a lot of sense… but when you combine it with the momentum tanking on the back half and the writing feeling weirdly clunky, the lack of tension really kills the album, compared to how nervy and explosive the first Formentera was, this is deflating. Yes, there are good moments - ‘Who Would You Be For Me’ is a good self-conscious reflection of Metric’s early years, I like the balance of sleaze on ‘Just This Once’ - and overall it’s not a bad listen, but it is a much weaker sequel and tougher to recommend, all I’m saying.

Dessa - Bury The Lede - Not gonna lie, I was extremely conflicted heading into this - Dessa is one of my favourite rappers with two of the best albums of the last decade, but Ides felt frustratingly underwhelming and fragmented, and I wasn’t thrilled about my least favourite song from that album getting packaged onto this. Moreover, with each passing album Dessa seemed to be showing less interest in rapping and more in a genre-blurring fusion of R&B and synthpop that didn’t play to her hyper-literate cutting edge. But even if I didn’t wind up liking this as much as A Badly Broken Code or Chime, Dessa is a fascinating artist and I really wanted to get onboard… and I’ll say this: I am inclined to call this a great album as I think some of the experiments on Ides are better realized here and Dessa has a more coherent thematic throughline with stronger hooks and Lazerbeak was not going to let her down with production. That said, it is a Dessa album that might start with familiar rap structures, but she does not stay there, as this album swerves wildly into synthpop, trap, and even rock in moments that can feel disorienting, especially as Dessa’s wordplay is still pretty dense and the production is even brighter and more technicolor. It’s easily her most upbeat album of her career and that includes Doomtree, and thus relies a lot more on Dessa’s singing - I like her huskier tones that can be an acquired taste, even if I ultimately prefer her rapping as I’d argue they lead to the most bruising moments on both Chime and Bury The Lede, but I’m not always convinced her singing matches the production as well as it could; I don’t mind the trap experiment of ‘Long Wave’, but cuts like ‘Blush’ and ‘Crash’ try to have more live bass and a sharper edge and alongside her voice they feel like components that don’t fully merge well, and even if I’m sure that’s part of the thematic point of both songs, they don’t fully hit. But again, Dessa’s writing chops are what makes this project, and the title wasn’t a joke: so much of this album is about deflection, beginning towards the world in the more bruising rap tracks like ‘Hurricane Party’ and ‘Decoy’ as she dares the audience to take that wild and gritty ride inwards, find the party in the midst of polarization and apocalypse. But then in the process of seeking out new love she finds partners that willfully obfuscate their own intentions, bury their own ledes, especially as this demands she lower her own guards to engage… only for the album to reveal that the last person for which Dessa is burying the true lede is herself, where she has to confront the reality of her own emotional engagement, where she can allow herself to bend or even move past the old ghosts that lurked across Chime. It’s an album that’s aware of just how fleeting and transitory so much of these connections can be, but the ghosts cast long shadows of which she has mixed feelings, as evidenced on the excellent groove of ‘Twelve To One’, where by the end on ‘Rothko’ the deflections break down and you have to face an abstracted but visceral reality in one of the weirdest but most haunting tracks Dessa’s ever made. So I’m going to make the comparison that only I would make: if Chime was Dessa’s Astoria, this is her Phantoms - a genre-twisting album that tilts deeper into pop where the edge is still there but perhaps not always where you’re expecting it, that feels like a thematic coda to the last full-length album where in continuing to try and escape old passions the echoes are still very much in sight, and it leads to a certain operatic loss and acceptance of the madness that makes one human. And no, not all the experiments click for me, but with every listen I was sure this was great… and also convinced that most will not have the patience for it; that’s the consequence of burying the lede when more and more folks just focus on the headline. Still, if you’re looking for a challenging and emotionally rewarding listen, Dessa will deliver - highly recommended.

James Blake - Playing Robots Into Heaven - I’ll admit I’ve been sitting on this for a while - James Blake returning to more electronic-focused production in comparison with all of the crossovers he’s attempted on the past few projects while he’s gradually seen more commercial attention. And… while I appreciate that James Blake is opting for more experimentation at this stage of his career, reminiscent of his self-titled album over a decade ago, this experiment did not click for me at all, even if I can’t in good conscience call it a misfire. The album is structured like the flow of the saddest downtempo rave you’ve ever attended as a metaphor for the honest-to-the-point-of-discomfort relationship arc, where James Blake seems aware from the very beginning this is going to ruin him and then we watch it play out, with all of the drippy clinginess that’s been a hallmark of Blake’s writing for years now, especially when he wants to push against his own self-censorship on ‘Fire The Editor’. And I get how some of my own discomfort at being like this in a relationship is why I recoil from it, especially when it’s framed as being so honest… but at the same time, for a few albums now there’s been this needy insecurity that feels even more possessive with fewer words and it really turns me off here. And the production doesn’t help - I’ve never been a huge fan of every wave of pitch-shifted vocals that Blake uses and while I understand he’s using them to amplify one’s own deflective impulse, on a tonal level the chipmunking does not work for me, especially against mixes that hit this odd, uncanny middle ground of bleeping minimalism with too many clashing melodic choices but a little too cleanly mixed for the sharper percussion to blend well, and that’s before we get the gospel and jungle-inspired samples on’ He’s Been Wonderful’ and ‘Big Hammer’, that not only don’t work, but don’t mesh with the atmosphere of the album at all, even compared to the more uptempo cuts like ‘Tell Me’. But when you also factor in how Blake seems to be ceding more time to his production with more spare lyrics and even full instrumental cuts, for an intensely personal narrative it can feel either impersonal or that he thinks his production can carry the load… and at least for me, it really didn’t; it’s dour and brittle and with the slowdown on the back half really feels its length despite a forty minute runtime. I don’t think this is bad because at the end of the day, I get what it’s trying to do and some of the discomfort is the point, but at the same time, the production reminds me why I’ve always like the more organic and textured Overgrown compared to the self-titled and with the rest… yeah, I have no desire to return to this. Not for me, I guess.

Ed Sheeran - Autumn Variations - When Ed Sheeran announced his second album of 2023, released entirely independently and produced by The National’s Aaron Dessner reprising from Subtract… I think it’s fair to have expectations given how messy things appeared to be with Atlantic and Asylum at the end and a newly freed Ed Sheeran could be more interesting, but at least for me they were a little lower; I’ve never been super-fond of acts dropping multiple good albums in a year when you could have one solidly great project, I’ve liked more of Sheeran’s pop material than most, and given that a chunk of these songs were pulled from the Subtract sessions for being too joyous with a very loose thematic conceit around snapshots of specific people in the fall with no singles being pushed, the buzz was tough to measure. But now having heard this… well, I’ll give Sheeran this credit, it’s the most he sounds like he’s enjoying music in years, a brand of pop folk - or if we’re being brutally honest, adult alternative - that sounds like he’s harkening back to the early 2010s, with Dessner’s spare but mostly organic and string-accented palette feeling like a deliberate throwback to a generally likable, soft-focus, unthreatening indie/alternative Pandora station in 2010. Which is fine - it’s certainly a consistent sound in which Sheeran sounds comfortable, even if I’m still on the record about wanting him to ease up on the falsetto - but if you’re expecting melodic hooks or sonic flourishes as strong as Sheeran had on his pop-leaning projects, even compared to Subtract, this is a much more measured and gradual affair, which is the nice way of saying that there are few hooks that match the best of Subtract and while it initially feels like more of a lively and upbeat project, there’s a lack of bite and tonal diversity from track to track that falls into the background alarmingly quickly and it starts running long fast. This would be where great writing would fill in the gaps, where Sheeran could play to more thoughtful or intricate ideas with the excuse of not having to go for the big pop hook all the time… which makes it frustrating when you realize so much of this feels like the extension of the same existential dread that ran through Subtract but with less flair or detail and creating a weirdly bleak tonal juxtaposition for the content with the jauntier tones and bouncier love songs: writer’s block, losses he still haven’t processed, and a depression that you can tell he was desperately hoping would ebb back with more freedom and independence… and it hasn’t, because that’s not how depression works, which is where I found myself scrabbling for that next step to go deeper or get more personal and it’s not here; hell, I’d argue it’s a step back when it comes to maturity or introspection, it feels sloppier. And the thematic arc feels much messier as well - it doesn’t flow as well, and while I’m not against Ed Sheeran being basic and accessible, if the hooks are weaker and the writing is even thinner, it winds up feeling like the less interesting castoffs to the last album. Thus, while I would be tempted to call this evermore to Subtract’s folklore, in that they both feel like overlong sister albums where the novelty is fading and there’s some recursive elements in going back to a comfortable sound, this just doesn’t have that punch. There are moments I appreciate - the rustic ode of ‘England’, ‘That’s’ On Me’ is one of the catchiest hooks to recognizing you’re screwed on some level I’ve heard in a while, ‘Plastic Bag’ picks up a darker groove on the hook to the brighter verses and that’s only to its benefit, and ‘Spring' has a drunken intimacy and desperate hope that worked better than I expected. Other than that… it’s fine, if you’ve allowed Ed Sheeran any empathy it’s hard to dislike, but it’s a weaker project that doesn’t stick as well as I was hoping.

Drake - For All The Dogs - I’m tempted to spend most of my time here talking about expectations and backlash with this project, because I think especially off of Her Loss - which I thought was dreadful but clearly worked for its target audience - folks saw this project as Drake returning to making the hard rap album that he’s been teasing, lean into hip-hop, make an album for the boys. So when the album opted for more polished production with guest stars friendly to radio and a fair amount of R&B, the buzz has felt more mixed, even though it’s going to do insane chart numbers because Drake’s pipeline into owning streaming has been entrenched for years; the system absolutely works to his advantage. I think that’s what frustrates so many of his older fans in that he has all of this institutional power and wealth and could make a more interesting or layered album, and instead there’s trend-chasing, making music for kids over a decade his junior and purposefully avoiding maturity. But this is what Drake’s always done, when he tried to experiment it was called Honestly Nevermind and a lot of those fans hated it, and truth be told, if I thought Drake was still self-aware I’d say most of the immature, insecure, creepy shit he says on this album isn’t that far removed from how those older fans really behave, especially around women, or for his female fanbase between those who embrace or tolerate it; that could have been some cutting commentary! Thankfully his embarrassing back-and-forth with Joe Budden has dispelled that analysis - and has convinced me that without added controversy and memetic moments Drake’s hype foundation is shakier than he wants to admit - and we’re left with an utterly bloated album running over eighty minutes that might have better production and mixing overall but is lighter on hooks and crossover bangers that’s enabled so many to give him a free pass, although ‘Rich Baby Daddy’ with Sexyy Red and SZA is going to stick around more than some want. And as someone who has known better for years now to come in with expectations, there are ideas and cuts I like on this album - for starters, ‘Search & Rescue’ is not on it! But I’d say it goes beyond that: even with the chipmunked Frank Ocean sample I like Drake’s frustrated bitterness and his better singing helps ‘Virginia Beach’ work as a haunted opener, ‘First Person Shooter’ is the Drake / J. Cole collab where it would have gone off on Cole’s verse alone until the second half where Drake talks about packing women in his phone like sardines - similar issue with ‘Drew A Picasso’ which had its nuance tanked by the mess of that final verse, Drake lets too many of these songs go long for his own good - JeRonelle’s backing vocals are pretty soulful when they pop out and feel reminiscent of Ty Dolla $ign, I liked the collabs with Chief Keef on ‘All The Parties’ and ‘Gently’ with Bad Bunny, and ‘8AM In Charlotte’ and ‘Away From Home’ have the lyrical density and fragments of the insight that I think the old fans wanted! On the flipside, you have the overlong and mostly embarrassing pettiness of the sample in the middle of ‘Calling For You’ that feels like a Her Loss leftover, you have the bass-heavy threats that aren’t remotely convincing that has him thinking sampling Scarface is original - at its worst with the Yeat collab ‘IDGAF’ with the truly abysmal squonking rage beat, and whenever Drake tries to get raspy and imitate Playboi Carti he doesn’t have the energy to pull it off - and while this album is stacked to the brim with so many indefensibly corny lines that’ll take all of Billboard BREAKDOWN to churn through them, ‘Members Only’ with PARTYNEXTDOOR and its grainy glassy beat has some of the absolute worst. And while there’s a lot that’s been made by some critics about the now just flagrant misogyny across this album - to which I say where the fuck were all of you since 2015 or especially with the nadir that came on Her Loss, this is nearly a decade away from being new - I think what’s more telling is how basic, routine, and boring it is now. What this album reminds me of the most is Views, and going back to when I reviewed that album over seven years ago, it’s stunning how little has changed: bloated runtime, production that has moments but can feel increasingly inconsistent as Drake tries to step into sounds he can’t sell, an increasing lack of self-awareness coupled with vague threats and general malaise, and a few crossover moments that guarantee something close to sustainable hits. But most of all it was running on hype it could not pay off, but it’s still going to do numbers because it feeds the baseline status quo, and all the systems that run underneath it; why fuck with the formula if he’s going to be the villain anyway? For what it’s worth, I believe Drake entirely when he says that he wants to take a break from music - and he should, maybe more experiences could help him grow up and find more things to say - but as for this… I don’t hate this as much as Her Loss and I can’t put this among his absolute worst albums, but also like Views, it is mediocre at best and completely inessential. And I guess we should thank him later that Drake didn’t call this For All The Bitches, because in every sense of the word it feels like a more apt title.