In Revue- 'Wildheart' (Miguel)

It's not readily apparent what the most impressive thing is about Miguel's new LP Wildheart. The fact that he produced most of this fuzzy, yet smooth, blunt but sultry affair is laudable. It's not a common occurrence with R&B artists. So you almost want to award bonus points to Miguel for how cinematic he makes the guitar crunch sound in opener "A Beautiful Exit." Each chord recounts those pivotal scenes when a hero goes rushing headlong into the abyss. That's not Miguel's voice. It's distant and feathery, floating behind the static-painted wall. An ideal foil to such immediate heaviness.

Praise too is due to his sense of pacing. He's wise enough to place the sobering "What's Normal Anyway?" and "Hollywood Dreams" right next to each other. The former essentially focuses on the struggles of an African-American/Mexican-American man, who listens to John Lennon and Biggie, to find his peer group. "Too proper for the black kids, too black for the Mexicans, too square to be a hood n****, what's normal anyway?" he painfully wonders aloud while strumming his guitar. In the latter we see the same man, still struggling, also forced to find a career in the cutthroat labyrinth of Los Angeles. Sex is a welcome salve, and a joyful distraction as we learn throughout the album, though it's tinged with regret in the Tame Impala meets Ginuwine number.

With that expert pacing we experience the carefree highs of love making in the thinly veiled "Waves," which brings to mind disco-era Marvin Gaye and has nothing to do with riding a surfboard. Then we crash a few songs later as Miguel wails over the sparse ripples and shaky percussion of "Leaves." Romance is a strange thing because the amount of time spent in it doesn't really matter. One night can matter as much as one decade depending on a person's perspective. So we have no idea how long Miguel and his female companion were around each other, there's only visceral singing to go off of.

Which is another element of Wildheart that should get a standing O, Miguel's singing. He doesn't quite have the piercing, Jacksonian falsetto of The Weeknd or Frank Ocean's supreme control, where he can cut off lines in an instant. His voice is often so affective because it drifts. A simple line like "I don't care," stands out in "...GoingtoHell." You're hanging with the thought to see where it goes and then it's gone in a haze of bass thumps and synth squiggles. There's no resolution, no pay off. "Coffee," the first single and closest comparison to the heavenly "Adore," continually promises ecstasy while focusing on the everyday. His voice is soft enough you'd think he's recording from under a bedsheet. And he never really throws it off. He threatens to once or twice with a wail but he goes right back to "tongue kissing and pillow talk." No need to ruin a good morning for the sake of a good ending. 

Others will give Miguel credit for his sly social consciousness. "We're gonna die young," might simply be a piecing of an overarching narrative about being in love and under 30, it could be about being black and getting killed before 30. The aforementioned "What's Normal Anyway?" is an ideal fit for a year where we can have intellectual discussions about race and gender identity. 

I'm not entirely sure how interested Miguel is in anything political though. Wildheart is an album about love. About the way it can make your heart race, your blood boil, your knees weak and your eyes water. We see how beautiful and ugly it can all be. Sex is shown in focus so we can see that femininity and masculinity don't matter, enjoyment does. And those two things are intertwined but not always. Love doesn't have to be eternal, impermanence is okay. If we applaud Miguel for doing anything, we should applaud him for teaching us that.

In Revue: 'Wild' (Miguel)

While it seems ostentatious that kaleidoscopic crooner Miguel would surprise release a new EP of progressively druggy R&B less than a week after D’Angelo damn near broke the music web with his masterful sneak attack Black Messiah, it makes sense in the right frame.

Miguel has a penchant for psych-soul/funk/R&B "ballads" that transmute at least three times before his voice floats away from them. If D'Angelo didn't outright invent the style on his 2000 record Voodoo, he helped popularize it. A song like "Playa Playa" can shift from narcotized tribal chanting to muted horns and not bat an eye. Without D'Angelo's work on that sophomore LP, we arguably don't get: the Weeknd, Frank Ocean, Solange or Miguel. Miguel's decision then has nothing to do with brazenness; it’s a tip of the cap to a sonic forefather.

Even if this new untitled EP (Wild to make it easier) was positioned as a contender to D'Angelo's hazy throne it would still rightly be viewed as a success. Miguel really rose to prominence with the Art Dealer Chic EPs in 2012 and the format suits him incredibly well. Each plea for a late night rendezvous is more desperate; every line of pillow talk tenderer because you know there's a finite amount of time. The Sun will be coming up soon and then it'll all be over.

But that's one facet of Miguel's inimitable style. He can do braggadocio with the best of his R&B peers and Wild's opening track "nwa" allows him to fully indulge. "She just wanna ride with an NWA," he hums over closely-mic'd drums, G-Funk synth wobbles and dust settling guitars. It's the sort of the line that's infinitely cooler because of how calm Miguel sounds delivering it. He's not pretending, he's a legit "NWA," and if you don't believe him you can ask legendary Philadelphia everyman Kurupt. The Dogg Pound member goes the Miguel route, barely rising above a gruff whisper, but he doesn't have the same effortlessness. He's the dude memorizing pickup lines while Miguel's breaking the ice with something he just thought up.

And if closer "coffee" is any indication, those lines clearly work. What starts as chat about "street-art and high-fashion," accompanied by blankets of static and murmuring bass, soon "devolves" into tongue kissing. Everything follows a natural path until Miguel and unnamed lover end with "coffee in the morning." "Coffee" has one of the cleverer hooks I've heard in 2014, if only because it finds a new way to portray a night of passion. It documents the kind of psychic connection that can form between two people who started off looking for the physical.

Miguel's true genius then is taking genre tropes and spinning them into audio gold. Like "Candles in the Sun" before it, "hollywooddreams" should sink under the weight of its own idealistic hokum, but it doesn't because of Miguel's commitment to the material. He's earnestly hoping for a "big break," trying to find a dream lost under surging guitars and twinkly synthesizers. There's no doubt he'll spot that break. With the artistic vision Miguel has, he could find anything.

"Simplethings"- Miguel

Fiery isn't a word I'd normally associate with R&B crooner Miguel. Smooth. Silky. Even the antithetical "cool" comes to mind. Tracks like the burbling synthfest "Can't Sleep 2gether" or the strummed "Arch & Point" smolder, but they never quite reach the point of incineration. 

"Simplethings", Miguel's contribution to the Girls soundtrack is a full-on blaze. The muffled, static-charged guitar in the intro calls to mind the Standells or Shadows of Night more than it does Marvin Gaye. When the flame threatens to die down as the guitar fades into the background, Miguel's cravenous tone keeps it burning bright. "I want you to win my heart" he seemingly demands. But like 2012's "P**** is Mine" it's as much desperate begging as it is bluster. In these circumstances, even the simple request to "lay with me babe" becomes enormously consequential. Steady ticking drums and genial synthesizer can't stop the proceedings either. No matter how much you'd like, there's no question you can take back.

The soundtrack to Girls season 3 is out 2/11 on Atlantic and features appearances by Miguel, Jenny Lewis, Cat Power, and more.

 

"Can't Sleep 2gether"- Miguel

You could be forgiven for thinking this latest entry into the sundry Adult Swim Singles Series was by anyone but the guy behind the giddy "Adorn". That song floated in light as a feather, with an open proposition "you just gotta let my love adorn you," Miguel sang in a tender croon. Any immediacy hinted at in the soaring chorus is pushed to the forefront by the malefic synth that opens up "Can't Sleep 2gether". "Can't sleep, can't sleep, let's can't sleep together" becomes the marching order. What risks turning lecherous by an "idle mind and dirty thoughts" is salvaged by the endearing minute details of staring hazy-eyed at "Fresh-Prince reruns" as they materialize into 3am texts reading "are you awake?" The intimate scene of his "insomniac" partner in his t-shirt resting just above her "strawberry thighs" wriggles through the constricting beat; finding the fresh night air. "Emancipate my mind" he comes close to begging in the first bridge. What began as a temporary fix is revealed as a search for the cure. This isn't about one night, but every night. 

Miguel's track will be available for download tomorrow at the Adult Swim Singles Series site.    

 

"Primetime" ft. Miguel- Janelle Monáe

As I mentioned when writing about the unmitigated bliss of "Mirrors", commitment can be a tricking thing to convey in a song. Sincerity can often bubble over into the syrupy. Being in love is fine; stopping everyone in the streets to tell them about it is irritating. Janelle Monáe and Miguel's duet on "Primetime" lacks that forced feeling. When the booming beat first echoes out Monáe is positioned in front of a clock, dutifully noting every tick and tock of the clock. She's waiting for the perfect moment to reaffirm her faith, soaring into the chorus "when you're down, and it's hard, and you feel like you've given your all, baby our love will always keep it real and true." Her other half returns after a ripple of guitar, symbiotic in his promise to put off all distractions. "My love will always be here for," Miguel sings in his velvety tone, returning Monáe's volley. No rookie mistakes or big-game nervousness here, just two people ready for the bright lights of "Primetime". 

Janelle Monáe's sophomore LP The Electric Lady arrives Sept. 10 via Bad Boy.  

Top 20 Songs of 2013 (So Far) Part II

Back with the final batch of the top songs of 2013 (so far), counting down from 10-1. Like the first crop of songs, the ones you'll find below are all over the map from somber-dance tracks to posse-rap cuts and even a cover making an appearance.   before we press play on the countdown, a quick rewind is in order.

20. "Young & Beautiful"- Lana Del Rey (The Great Gatsby OST)
19. "Living Room"- Grouper (The Man Who Died in His Boat)
18. "Domo 23"- Tyler, the Creator (Wolf)
17. "Power Trip"- J. Cole (Born Sinner)
16. "Where Are We Now?"- David Bowie (The Next Day)
15. "Blood on the Leaves"- Kanye West (Yeezus)
14. "Perfect Form"- Cyril Hahn (Single)
13. "Good Ass Intro"- Chance the Rapper (Acid Rap)
12. "The King"- Tree (Sunday School II: When Church Lets Out)
11. "I Miss You"- the xx (Live Cover)

#10. "Whoa"- Earl Sweatshirt (Doris)

Rare is the moment that Tyler, the Creator's guttural yells offer any semblance of shelter, but Earl's all-out verbal onslaught on "Whoa" makes Tyler's protestations of "nah nah f**k" strangely comforting. To refer to Earl's rapping here as "spitting" is a gross disservice, implying some sort of general spray as opposed to the targeted barbs tossed off, "grab mittens who have to spit blizzardous, actually flick cigarette ash at b***h n***as." If Earl's spitting anything here, its poison dart's like some sort of rap assassin, "spraying then hide away in the shade of his maimed innocence." The B-grade synths that back Earl up only manage to make his calm demeanor on the track more menacing. He goes the whole track without raising his voice once and yet every turn feels like he could snap and start swinging at everything in his sight. He's raiding rubbish bins "at your local loony clinic," and tossing back bars like a "vodka fifth." File it away as another chapter in the "misadventures of a s**t-talker."

#9. "#Beautiful" ft. Miguel- Mariah Carey (The Art of Letting Go)

Excepting Frank Ocean, Miguel had the best year of any R&B singer in 2012. His bold, successful Kaleidoscope Dream was a dense, taut blend of classic R&B tropes and more modern indie trends. Few songs towed this line as well as "Adorn" an infectious bubbling number that's impossible not to crack a smile at. Every yelp and hiccup carries the message of Miguel's love as far as his words, and his sliding wordless vocals seal the deal. Mariah Carey's "#Beautiful" provides a similar lesson in restraint. A guitar riff straight out of the 60s Stax catalog sets the stage for a feathery Miguel. His voice here is as soft as the "kiss of moonlight on your skin." For Carey's part she still slips in a trademark vocal burst or two, though she's plays it cool for the most part. She's feeling giddy here and professes a feeling of invincibility. No nervousness or confusion here, just two people turning in an effortless performance. 

#8. "1Train" ft. Kendrick Lamar, Joey Bada$$, Yelawolf, Danny Brown, Action Bronson, & Big K.R.I.T.- A$AP Rocky (Long.Live.A$AP)

"Don't be scared n***a is you ready?" A$AP Rocky cryptically asks over the haunted strings and boom-bap drums of 1Train, already a serious contender for the all-time great posse-cuts list. How could you be ready? Rap features have always been about one-upsmanship and a competitive spirit, but everyone here though sounds absolutely possessed. Rocky's clinging to "bags made of Goyard, cheffin' like I'm Boyar-Dee," and taking us back to the days of riding the titular train. Kendrick continues his lyrical gymnastics here, riding up on a skateboard, and gunning down everyone in sight, while still finding time to eat them all like "cooked beef." Joey Bada$$ can be caught "barely even conscious, talking to my conscious," and meeting with Jigga. For his part, Alabama-bred rapper Yelawolf is huddling with "Nubians," and assuring us there's never been "a rapper this cold, since 2Pac was froze, and thawed out for a spot-date at a Coachella show." To the surprise of no one, Danny Brown is thoroughly unhinged, spinning through his verse like the Tasmanian Devil hopped up on "molly." Brown supplies one of the most nauseating, gut-busting lines of the year rapping, "b***h p***y smell like the Penguin, wouldn't hit that s*** with my worst enemy's penis." Action Bronson (he who shall forever be compared to Ghostface Killah) drives by swiftly, "shifting the Bimmer 860," "confetti torching," and somehow finding the time to fix a game between Georgia Southern & Grambling. Then there's Mississippi-native Big K.R.I.T. bearing his "Muddy Water flow, Dixie rebel past." Rocky and Bada$$ both swear by K.R.I.T.'s verse, and it understandable. K.R.I.T.'s verse is filled with flash, packaged inside a classic frame, much like the candy-painted Caddies he can be found in. When the song ends, it's hard to imagine what could conceivably be better than that "1Train."

#7. "Retrograde"- James Blake (Overgrown)  

Few people can make loneliness sound as lovely as James Blake. On his "post-dubstep" debut LP, 2011's James Blake, he made abject isolation a commodity, the solitary life the only sort worth living. On the frigid summits of closer "Measurements," he was wandering through "forests cold," and putting all his doubts on trial in a courtroom of the elements. "Retrograde" maintains the spirit of that lone traveler mentality, but this time out a companion's come along. The isolation has shifted from the first to third person in the course of one winter; "we're alone now." The small ember of the track that Blake's voice clings to in the cold becomes a burning fire in the pit of his stomach by the time his loverman chorus hits. Blake begs, "show me why you're strong, ignore everybody else, we're alone now," wallowing the first time he runs through the line. The clattering drums and keyboards only fan the flames in the dark of night, as Blake is hit by the "starkness of the dawn." If it truly is "darkest before the dawn," Blake's found someone to peer out into the darkness with.

        

#6. "Started from the Bottom"- Drake (Nothing Was The Same) 

Wherever you think Drake came up or started from is irrelevant right around the time that minor-key piano figure is pushed out of frame by the sturm und drang trap-rap drums stitched up by producer Mike Zombie. Any possible chuckle or headshake at the notion of Drake "keeping it real from the start" disappears. Drizzy doesn't sound assured here, but authoritative. Through his sharp eyes we see arguments at his "momma's house" and late-night joyrides unwittingly sponsored by his uncle asking "where you at." The familiar themes of friends and family are in abundance here. Drake's proven more skilled than most artists at delineating the lines between the friends that'll die for you and those that would prefer to just sit in the car. Here Drake celebrates the success with the "whole team" drafted from the get-go and throws up deuces to any bandwagoneers, "f**k a fake friend." On "Over" he let us know "I'm doing me." "Started from the Bottom" is the ultimate reminder that in spite of everything, the story's stayed the same.  

#5. "Climax"- The Dirty Projectors (Cover)

The original "Climax" released off of Usher's wildly inconsistent (but ultimately enjoyable) 2012 record Looking 4 Myself was one of the greatest thrills in pop last year. Usher and producer Diplo gave us a masterclass in restraint. Usher could've howled his way through the thing, racing for those high notes like a rocket blasting off into space, but he didn't. He stayed grounded in hushed falsettos and dubstep burbles, until the relationship plateaued, and then Usher's voice was right there at the summit, howling in pained agony. On their "Like a Version" cover, the Dirty Projectors forgo any plateauing altogether. Leader Dave Longstreth immediately goes for the gut, if Usher sounded like he could survive another round of love in limbo, Longstreth's already called it quits. Longstreth clings to every note like there was nothing else left in this world. For her part, Amber Coffman (eyes closed) ethereally floats through the notes, feet firmly "off the ground." When Longstreth steps back up his questions of "why do I care at all?" are just as vital as Usher's original interrogations. The grand finale where Usher threw all caution to the wind is more reckless now, Longstreth and Coffman splitting the difference to pull the relationship apart.  Transcending source material and making it your own is never easy, even if the Dirty Projectors make it seem that way.

#4. "Ya Hey"- Vampire Weekend (Modern Vampires of the City)

On the highest of the highest, Vampire Weekend's rousing "Ya Hey" amounts to finger-wagging at the highest on high, the big man himself, the imperturbable Yahweh. "The faithless they don't love you, the zealous hearts don't love you," Ezra Koenig sings, his warm tone hardly masking the frantic finger-wagging he's committed too. Koenig nurtures all his guilt and inner turmoil for a time, but "lets it go," shedding his own crown of thorns and moving on with his life. "Ya Hey" is one of several tracks on the album to question religion's role in our lives when the trouble finds us, against frenetic guitar strumming on "Worship You" the group asks "who will guide us through the end," and "Unbelievers" resigns to the warmth that awaits all its titular characters. But the true beauty of "Ya Hey" is its ability to descend from the clouds and operate on a less celestial level. Trade an all-seeing God for an overly invested lover searching for the last ounce of love in a deflated relationship, and the metaphor comes into focus. Koenig cops to his mistakes in the cathartic chorus and swelters in the heat of the fire and flames. His lover meanwhile just sits in silence, out of sight and out of reach. Lacking faith in a higher power, Koenig is still burdened by an overwhelming faith in humanity.

#3. "Cherry"- Chromatics (After Dark 2)

Yes, in the most narrow-minded and myopic view of list-making this one breaks the rules. It originally made its appearance back in November 2012, but merits inclusion because a. it didn't see official release until After Dark 2, a compilation of moody dance acts from label Italians Do It Better dropped, and b. it's one of the best songs of this (and frankly) any year from the still young decade. I've easily heard the song some 60 plus times now and the crying synths and chugging bass find new ways to surprise me. There are still nights where I press repeat and let the spirit of the song haunt my room as I nod off into the ether. I originally wrote that "Cherry" is a marvelous encapsulation of what Rodney Dangerfield once referred to as the "heaviness" where the weight of the world casts a shadow over every kiss, every relationship, and every regret. Months later, singer Ruth Radelet wearisome "I can't keep crying all of the time," hasn't gotten any easier to lift. "Cherry" isn't an incredible song just for the hypnotic backbeat soundtracking the most sullen dancefloor in the world, but for the tragically pointed and relatable lyrics. Cherry's true nature is revealed in the final verse when Radelet discovers "Cherry can be very sweet when she needs a friend, but it's only a mask she wears so she can pretend." I feel perfectly comfortable admitting I've had the same paranoia creep over me; concerned that all my rushing to someone's side will be for naught when the roles are reversed. Some do it out of selfishness, but others are merely shortsighted, unable to see anything worth sharing with another human being. Hearing the song now, I'm reminded of a quote from a Kafka short-story about a man and woman engaging in a high-stakes game of "judgment." Near the finale, the man remarks "yet you smile-- inviting mortal danger-- from time to time." We've all been put in that danger before and like Radelet we can grow to hate the power it has over us. A way out from underneath the heaviness is possible; if you can summon the strength.

#2. "Mirrors"- Justin Timberlake (20/20 Experience)         

The last time unmitigated devotion and unyielding fidelity sounded this good on record, Rihanna was taking an oath to "stick it out to the end" on "Umbrella." For whatever reason, even in the world of Top 40 radio, martial stability annoys us. Rumours, one of the most successful albums of all time painfully traces the dissolution of relationships. The runaway success of Adele's 21 was fueled by a similar source. Justin Timberlake himself began his solo career with the bitter pill of "Cry Me A River." Despite our best intentions, bliss bores us. Which makes "Mirrors" dominance of the Billboard charts all the more impressive. Holding steady in the top 10, the arena ready track shows everyone how commitment can be done right. Sporting Timbaland's trademark handclap beats and smothered in synths, Timberlake is looking at his other half with emotional honesty, "I don't wanna lose you know," he sings in a buttery falsetto on the hook. The imagery here of two becoming one is simplistic, but powerful aided by Timbaland's hefty bass and soaring synths. Soon Timberlake loses all control, the music's grand scale is re-sized, and JT's devolved into a chorus of "you are the love of my life." There's no mystery in tomorrow, Timberlake's figured it out.

#1. "Get Lucky" ft. Pharrell- Daft Punk (Random Access Memories)

Unless some Earth-shattering, world-conquering song comes along in the next 5 months, "Get Lucky"'s disco-strut won't be stopped. What is already an earworm, has its DNA drastically mutated by Pharrell's silky croon, Niles Rogers' (of Chic fame) choppy guitar playing, and Daft Punk's funky vocoder breakdown. The song's an aural plague; reeking "havoc" on your whole body 'til your up on feet, head bouncing to-and-fro to Pharrell's hook, and voice joining the fight to "get lucky." Seeing Pharrell play this song back-to-back-to-back live makes perfect sense, who isn't pressing repeat as soon as the song heads off into the sunset? As I write this I'm struggling to finish, the smallest ripples in the song distracting me. Another keystroke is halted by the tiny piano figure or the muted bass thud. I can't imagine getting anything do listening to this, let alone a complicated task that commands your full concentration. Daft Punk demand that here, luring you into their all-night funhouse, and never letting you leave. The band's prior pop savvy with highlights "Da Funk," "One More Time," "Harder Better Faster Stronger," and "Make Love" can't hold a candle to what Daft Punk crafted here. "Get Lucky" doesn't just raise the bar, so much as it obliterates it.

  

Got a problem with any of the selections here or on part 1? Then let your voice be heard! Drop a comment, hit up the twitter account @allfreshsounds, give a stern talking to on Facebook, whatever you've gotta do. And look for a list of the top 10 albums so far this year to drop next week.

"Candles in the Sun"- Miguel

"Candles in the Sun" is the sort pseudo-political love for all people track that just shouldn't work. It's easy to hear Miguel's warm intonation of "they say we're all created equal, but that ain't how we treat each other," as cloying of the highest kind. Then something brilliant happens around the point in the video, which was released today, that a blank contemplative stare consumes Miguel's face. The slow drum and electronic effects that have been languishing up until this point, ring out like a gun shot in the night and embolden the singer as he tells the tale of "white collar war crime, money gettin' spent."By starting the chorus with the sly-nod to the Notorious B.I.G. "kick in the door, carry the .44," Miguel is acknowledging what is soon to come in the chorus, "heroes often get shot." We so rarely pay attention to the world that is around us, that it take something as a loud and vicious as a gunshot to wake us up out of our slumber. The world Miguel sings of is not a far-cry from the world of Chaplin's Great Dictator, we "think too much and feel too little." Peace becomes a thing of the past and any notion of real love is lost to the history books. "Candles in the Sun" is Miguel's attempt to find that peace and love, to find any sense of God in this wicked world we walk through. "May we all live long, may we all be brave," he sings near the song's conclusion. We have lost the way, but there's always a bright flame in the night to call us back when we stray from the path. If there is indeed a God, he/she/they would want nothing more than for us to know "we're all created equal."

"Candles in the Sun"