Songs new and old

Music we've been listening to over the last month or so

Jadakiss: “Still Feel Me” 

By Alphonse

There was nobody I hated more than Jadakiss. As a kid, my Dad would leave me in the backseat of his car with a plate full of griot—Haitian fried pork—and I would listen to the radio as he ran his errands. Of course, it was Hot 97, and shit, did they love Jadakiss. It felt like I was trapped in the backseat, forgotten somewhere in Brooklyn, left to sit and stew as Jadakiss went, “Aha!” He was everywhere; he had songs of his own, songs with The Lox, songs with D-Block. And when I thought I finally escaped, sure enough, he would appear as a guest feature—ready to make my life hell. Jadakiss once said he’s never made a bad verse. Years ago I would have laughed at the thought, but as I’ve gotten older, my love for Jada has grown. It’s now at a point where if I’m ever in a reflective mood, I’ll put on a record from Kiss of Death, and suddenly, I’m back in the backseat of a car with a mouthful of fatty pork listening to Jada.

Bill Withers: “Can We Pretend” 

By Myles Andrews-Duve

It feels weird to want some refuge when all you really know right now is home. But that’s where niggas is at. Because idk a lot of this don’t make sense—we in an unfamiliar world where time has lost shape, and protective masks hide expressions of emotion. So, I don’t know, I let this ‘Justments by Bill Withers run all day and am reminded that he used to be with us and that at one point these songs felt like home. I find comfort in the easiness of “Can We Pretend”—a serene world where bass lines hum to you and harps bring some harmony. It is the musical equivalent of clouds breaking open to shed light: The words read prophetic in a moment where there is no yesterday of note, and all we can do is give pretend meaning to the present moment—hoping for brighter colors in the world of tomorrow. He is singing about love, but what is our love if not a reflection of the world we know? Sometimes, ironically, one we can’t stand. And so I often want to pretend as if “the pain is gone,” and we can “go our merry way,” and it can feel like the closest thing to that is finding solace in the warmth of this music. Until the languor slips away, and we’re forced to stop pretending.

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Faye Webster: “In a Good Way” 

By Carolyn Bernucca

Music hasn’t been hitting the same lately, but Faye Webster’s new track, “In a Good Way,” has brought me out of my rut, at least for the time being. As someone who cries multiple times a day for a myriad of reasons, global pandemic or not, I welcome a song about crying from happiness—that’s my whole thing! What really gets me, though, is the extended instrumental break that happens right in the middle of the song. If soulmates are real, I think this interlude should play in your head when you meet one of yours. It’s lush and cinematic and invokes an overwhelming feeling of romance in every sense of the term. That feeling is demonstrated in the music video by Faye herself, as she dances around a stage in an impossibly metallic dress, while dozens of yellow happy face balloons descend from above; every time I watch, I tear up as they start to fall. There is a tendency right now to proclaim that “nothing matters,” jokingly or otherwise. When I’m listening to this song, during those 73 special, lyric-free seconds, I feel the opposite: Everything matters, it always has, it always will.

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Lil Bean: “Swervin’” [ft. ZayBang]   

By Jayson Buford 

Bay Area rappers Lil Bean and ZayBang make emotional bangers meant to represent the darkside of life in the streets. Bean is adept at making hooks and stunting while sounding like he is in conversation: ‘’I told baby she can leave if she want to/All this going back and forth is what I won’t do/People know understand what I go through/I just put my real life on these pro tools.’’ ZayBang is the foil: He is the one who doesn’t mince words. He’s the type of rapper who says you have to treat him like a boss because he is flexing on your father. Here, he opens his verse with a tribute to his late brother: “I miss my brother Eric; I just hate that we departed.’’ He talks about his paranoia and riding around town with his glock on him. This street music has the emotional pain the news won’t show you. Bean and Zay know exactly who they make music for, and it’s good to know we can count on them to usher us into their world. The streets are as scary as the times we’re living in. 

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Britney Spears: “Get Naked (I Got a Plan)”

By Maddie Schwappach

Since becoming a born-again Britney fan a couple of years back, Britney Spears’ Blackout has become a point of comfort for me. Following her highly publicized breakdown in 2007, Spears released a masterful and haunting album reflecting a newfound gritty apathy. Since becoming trapped inside, Blackout’s nihilistic party girl anthems have a strange new appeal. These songs have always been from another world, and the distorted reality we’re stuck in now feels closer to it than ever. “Get Naked (I Got a Plan)” is particularly entrancing and features a campy level of sexuality superimposed on top of futuristic production. The pitched down backing vocals sneer “Baby, baby, baby, baby” to the point of absurdity behind Brit’s hyper-sexed vocals. Plinking 808s and breathy vocal samples underscore a pop song that fits in no time and no musical moment except its own. Sitting on my bedroom floor, illuminated by the glow of Roller Coaster Tycoon on my laptop, the chorus of “Get naked, get naked, get naked” lulls endlessly as hours pass, soundtracking an intoxicating swirl into oblivion. Isolation and boredom were absolutely not what Britney had in mind when crafting her surreal pop odyssey, but it suits her well.

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The Ebonys: “It’s Forever.”

By Matthew Ritchie

With decreased social interaction during quarantine, there are fewer opportunities to have fulfilling emotional interactions throughout the day. To counteract this loneliness, I’ve launched myself headfirst into a treasure trove of old love songs. “It’s Forever,” The Ebonys’ 1973 song, elicits the same nostalgic feelings as an old vinyl crate that smells like your grandfather’s old cigar smoke. Drawing inspiration from the title, the track lasts for a dizzying seven minutes as the soul collective wails over delicate piano and strings production. The angelic production provides the perfect background as the Philadelphia group croons about everlasting devotional love: “Just as long as one and one is two / That’s how long / It’s gonna be me and you!” It’s the simplicity of their love that makes this track special. There are no grand, complicated displays of affection to woo their lovers. Their love is simple and constant, and it’s refreshingly direct. In the midst of a soul-crushing quarantine, the track has provided me with hope and satisfaction, as the sentiment of everlasting love provides a sliver of optimism within our pessimistic reality.  

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Hi-C: “No Emotionzzz”

By Harley Geffner 

The Reptilian Club Boyz are an interdimensional portal into a world of demon reptiles, intergalactic vampires, Hello Kitty animation, and ’80s synth pop that coalesce to form shapes that can only be conceptualized mathematically. Rapper and producer Hi-C is one of the three key members, along with Diamondsonmydick (yes, that’s right) and Cartier’God, of the Based “cloud rap” tradition. Hi-C’s 3-track PRETTY D3MON ROKKSTARZZ EP is a truly special post-trap project that sounds like 2009 Jason Derulo did a shit ton of acid and hopped in a studio with a teenage Chief Keef and Spaceghostpurpp to trade quippy raps, warbling melodies, and weird plug-ins. It’s a spritely figurine guiding us through pitch black ocean waves on a contraption straight out of the Jetsons. This is the future of pop music. 

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Father: “Lynch Mob” 

By Dante Esser 

In a time where reality seems like an exaggerated nightmare, music often helps us retreat. I’ve found comfort in Father’s “Lynch Mob,” a song with an ironically macabre title, though it’s quite soothing. The opening strings sound like something cupid would play after striking you with a love arrow, and it makes sense: Father has a penchant for mixing sinister with lovely. Awful Records-newcomer SEANTHOMMONEY and seasoned producer Dexter Dukarus round out the track, and a nostalgic sample leads us into Father’s hypnotizing chorus: “If I fuck your bitch you gotta figure it out.” It sounds like a lullaby though it’s a threat. For a rap veteran, Father has a sublime command of melody, and he uses his problematic voice in a way only he can: he proclaims his boys in the function ’bout to n*gger it out. It makes me long for the days when getting ignorant in the function was an option. SEANTHOMONEY channels lil tracy, belting out a smooth supporting feature. The best phrase I can use to describe Father on tracks like this is “emotional thug.” Even gangsters need forehead kisses. 

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CJ Fly: “BLOCK PARTY” [ft. Kirk Knight]

By Brandon Callender

For years, I’ve been telling people I’m ready for college to be over, but I never thought it would end with me taking online exams in my childhood bedroom. I should’ve been running around Chapel Hill doing stupid shit with my friends, so that I could tell exaggerated stories to kids who ask me what college was like. What’s been hitting me the hardest is that I can’t go outside anymore; the feeling of spending a few minutes catching up with a friend I ran into is gone. Those were special moments. 

I don’t remember the last time I was into an album by a member of Pro Era who wasn’t Joey Bada$$, but I’ve spent time with RUDEBWOY, CJ Fly’s new album. “BLOCK PARTY,” one of the best songs on the album, is filled with the special moments that I’ve been missing lately. He balances a weird level of specificity and earnestness, specifically when he raps about getting drunk off of his first nutcracker and the smell of burning charcoal. CJ Fly isn’t the best singer, but the carefreeness of the hook makes you want to sing it, too. This song feels like it should be mad corny, but he avoids that entirely. I don’t know when we’ll be able to spend time with our friends outside again, but this song has been making me reflect on some of my favorite moments from the last four years at Chapel Hill. 

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