Last Updated on 11/12/2020
November’s been a busy one for pop giants, with the likes of BTS, Miley Cyrus and Kylie Minogue all having new albums out this month. Despite this however, in a welcomed turn of events, the winners this time round are without doubt the underground giant slayers who, whether it be because they’re fresh onto the scene or because they’re just not as recognised, haven’t sat back and borrowed the same old saturated sound. Invention in their case has clearly led to inspiration, so with that in mind let’s see who makes our Top 5 this month.
5. Spirit World Field Guide, Aesop Rock
If you haven’t stumbled onto Aesop Rock, his style is probably best described as being both highly original and lyrically expansive. There’s a caveat though … it’s also pretty dense. A study done in 2019 which ranks rappers with the highest amount of unique words in their lyrics sees Aesop sit at the top of the list. So, sitting down to listen to his latest release, you might worry that there’ll be too much to unpack. Fortunately for us, this is not the case. What you get instead is a noticeably surreal yet strangely resonant exploration into Aesop’s mind, starting with “Hello from the Spirit World”, an introduction to all of the “anecdotes, recipes, survival tips, warnings, maps and drawings” that you will encounter during the listen.
Lots of the songs are hits too. One of the album’s singles, “Pizza Alley”, exposes the chaotic landscape that feeds from Aesop’s imagination by beginning with innocent, unfiltered verses, before a drum fill transitionlessly transforms the track into something much more menacing. Paranoia then kicks into tracks like “Dog At The Door” and “Boot Soup”. The former is probably my favourite on the album, with its onomatopoeic spraying and creepy bass lines that help to build some spooky tension. “Boot Soup” on the other hand uses an unhinged drum beat begging to be hyped over to take an honest look at Aesop’s unsuccessful attempts at fitting into society. The album’s second single “The Gates” is definitely also worth a listen, as its staccato melody mixed with an elongated bass section makes for an eerie experience. We eventually get to the end of the album with “Marble Cake”. It too is a great listen and leaves you with a great message before you go; Aesop reminds you all to celebrate life, stating:
“How I die is not important. How I live is.”
My biggest gripe with the album is that the musical journey it takes is simply nonexistent. Musically, there’s no build up or release and the formulation of the tracks, no matter how hooked you are to Aesop’s beats, all feel as samey as a shortbread spread at your Nan’s. You’d still eat each one, but she’s kidding herself if she thinks she’s giving you a variety. In fairness to Aesop, he himself resigns that the album isn’t “something you need to listen to front to back in one sitting … you kinda flip around until you find the section that applies to your current situation”. Nice idea, but it doesn’t work well in reality, meaning that you may find yourselves in the last fifteen minutes of the album thinking that your time could be spent better elsewhere. There’s a silver lining I suppose; Aesop originally had fifty tracks lined up, before cutting his list down to 21. Now that would’ve been a c*nt to review.
4. Hey u x, Benee
I suppose something good had to come out of TikTok eventually. New Zealand’s breakthrough, indie pop sensation BENEE has been climbing from height to height since two of her singles, “Supalonely” and “Glitter”, were picked by the viral-making gods as tracks for TikTok dance challenges. Thanks to the community’s questionable dance moves, and yet no-end commitment to groove (maybe I should be on TikTok?!), the 20 year old has since been able to hook up with some indie gurus to release her first album, an enjoyable and touching release.
What resonates with me most is the quirkiness of the album. That’s one tick for the indie traits list. Tracks like “Snail” with the lyrics, “I’m like a snail / You’re a guy / Kinda mad / I can’t fly” are always going to be culled by the likes of Pitchfork who think that BENEE could benefit from “dropping the cutesy affectations” … These are the same guys who’ll also give “I Am The Walrus” a 10 for its unrivalled lyricism. No, I’m not comparing BENEE to the Beatles – although in the case of these two songs Lewis Carroll-like motifs are very apparent – I’m just saying that seemingly nonsensical vocals should never be thrown under the bus for being ‘silly’. BENEE is just being herself, which is surprisingly rare these days. Other fun, funky songs are “Sheesh”, featuring Grimes, and “Kool”. The first of the two is stuck together with big, dancey beats and verges nicely towards the hyperpop genre. “Kool”, meanwhile, still has a distinctive bass line but borrows more from a Daft Punk feel. You also have “Night Garden” which BENEE records alongside Kenny Beats and Bakar. Some say it floods your ears with dread. Disagree – I’m convinced that the tune’s wobbly backbeat leads you feeling more curious than paranoid. Regardless, for me, it’s the best song on the album. That Bakar feature is *chef’s kiss*.
Then you’ve got the stripped back, more contemplative tracks on the album that are equally as pleasing to listen to, albeit for different reasons. BENEE’s multitracking of her vocals on “A Little While” is beautifully done and truly builds the impression that the artist writes her songs not to make a quick buck, but with her heart in her sleeve. Other songs with a tearful broken chord, broken voice aesthetic are “Happen To Me” and “C U”. They really force the listener into appreciating that less can often mean more. The same goes for “If I Get To Meet You”, which made me switch off so much that I got lost walking back home listening to it. So listen to the songs that BENEE recorded with the likes of Lily Allen (“Plain”) and Mallrat (“Winter”) but don’t assume she relies on the fame of others to get clout. BENEE is a star in the making in her own right.
3. Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios) ∞, Kali Uchis
This is Kali Uchis’ second studio album and one which marks a welcomed step in the development of the Colombian-American’s musicianship. Kali hasn’t used her new found fame to churn out a list of generic hits. Look at the uninviting title of the album, the obscure formatting for the track listing and the Spanish lyrics. I mean, who wants to have to find the infinity symbol to tell a mate about a new release? And then there’s the list of features that Kali uses. On Isolation (2018), the 26 year old draws on the likes of Tyler, The Creator, Jorja Smith and Steve Lacy to help find her sound. On Sin Miedo, you have more low-key appearances, with it reportedly being the case that Kali even wrote some of the accompanying verses herself. Rather than these being the signs of a poorly thought out album, I think the opposite. For me, this all leads to the album being highly personal and well-visioned. It doesn’t cater for anyone but Kali, which, if you ask me, is what good art is supposed to be all about. Perhaps a tweet from the artist best paints her attitude whilst releasing this album:
“another day of disappointment for my english speaking fans who do not wish to make the attempt to listen to music in languages they can’t understand.”
Listening to the opening tracks “la luna enamorada” and “fue major”, you too will quickly discover that Kali’s decision to stick to her gut doesn’t fall flat on its arse. For the first song, she borrows from the traditional Hispanic genre of bolero to steep the album in mystery and, whilst keeping to the same tempo, continues to generate a similar mood for the second song, this time subbing the bolero for the soothing rhythm of Latin soul. In fact, what may be considered a turn-off for some fans, is perhaps the most beautiful part of this project – that being Kali’s effortlessly cool ability to transition lyrically from Spanish to English. Her bi-lingual vocals on “//aguardiente y limón %ᵕ‿‿ᵕ%” (no I didn’t enjoy working out how to type the face) and “quiero sentirme bien” melt you like butter. Then you’ve got the James Bond backtrack cum Portishead sounds that come out of “vaya con dios” and “que te pedí//” that create a lovely aesthetic and are worth exploring.
I’d only say that there is a loss of momentum by the time you reach the end of your listen. Songs like “telepatía” wash over you in a nice but not strictly spine tingling way, as do “de nadie” and “no eres tu(soy yo)”. Then you’ve got melodies on “te pongo mal(prendelo), which sound too much like “Mary Had A Little Lamb” for my liking. Guessing that’s just me though. But don’t feel dissuaded by this, as otherwise you’ll be missing out on one of the best albums of the month.
2. Send Them to Coventry, Pa Salieu
In a year where much of the music industry has slowed in the absence of live shows, Pa Salieu has resisted the current to become an unlikely breakout star. From being a near unknown in 2019, his debut mixtape includes a number of 2020 rap’s very best tracks (breakout hit “Frontline” being among them).
The UK rapper grew up in the Coventry suburbs of Hillfields but spent the early years of his childhood in Gambia. The embrace of this heritage in his music (that also takes strong cues from dancehall and grime) has led to comparisons with star J Hus, a rapper also of Gambian descent. Although they are both purveyors of quality rap music, the appeal is vastly different, to me at least.
Where J Hus melodically, cheekily skips around often sunny beats, Pa Salieu’s genius lies in the unconventional rhythms that his authoritative voice blasts through the track with. Far less mellifluous, his delivery is dark and at times desperate. And he delves into far more serious topics around the tough world that he has come to maturity in. The flurry of ammunition Pa spits to start opener “Block Boy” provides an indication of both his lyrical conviction and addictive cadence:
‘Look, my name is Pa and I’m from Hillset
Bust gun, dodge slugs, got touched, skipped death’
These lines may refer to a 2019 incident that involved his own hospitalisation after being shot in the head, but this album doesn’t fixate on doom and gloom – it is also defiant in the face of it. From mid-album flexing on banger “Betty” to the closing ode to not giving a f*ck about what others think on “Energy”, there are plenty of uplifting moments.
All around, it is a well-balanced, dynamic and truly inventive rap project. Listen. And pay attention – this is a big moment in the rise of a major talent.
1. The Angel You Don’t Know, Amaarae
You never typically know what to expect from an artist’s debut album. By nature, it’s their first full release, the beginning of not just a chapter but the whole book. But in Amaarae’s case, things are a tad different. We have known about Ama Serwah, whose name translates from Ghanaian into English as “woman of war”, for a while now. Previous singles like “Fluid” and “LIKE IT” have been massive for providing members of Ghana’s LGBTQ+ society a voice in a country where the penalty for same-sex sexual activity is still 3 years imprisonment.
Amaarae has previously gone on record stating that the purpose of her art is to “teach respect and understanding” and it’s safe to say that her November release does just that. Right off the bat, the distorted riffs on “D*A*N*G*E*R*O*U*S” make you drop everything and listen. Once you are settled firmly on the edge of your seat, the next thirty-five minutes of the album offer a fun, fantastic listen, containing experimental dashes of soul, R&B and an altê ethos of doing things a bit differently. The production of each track is fantastic and truly helps to create a mood and a platform for Amaarae’s subject matter. “FEEL A WAY” feels like an instant club classic largely thanks to the accentuated drum and bass parts being so punchy and the decision to add in some really addictive, electronic hooks. The result is an incredibly liberating sound that couples nicely with the track’s lyrics.
But don’t take anything away from Amaarae’s luscious falsetto voice and her unique flow. They work brilliantly together, especially on tracks that strive to weaken Ghana’s social conservatism. On songs like “FANCY”, it’s great to see Amaarae continue to fight for acceptance of androgenous sexual expression with lyrics like:
“I like it when you call me zaddy / Won’t you sit up in my big fat catty”.
You can catch her rocking in a modified gimp suit for the music video too, reminding me that no amount of latex is ever enough. Elsewhere the album is deeply emotional, perusing topics like gang life in Africa on “PARTY SAD FACE”, the importance of being at peace with yourself on “LEAVE ME ALONE” and dealing with toxic relationships on “SAD, U BROKE MY HEART”. The last of the three just-mentioned tracks also has one of the simplest yet refreshing melodies I’ve heard all month. Don’t take my word for it though, listen for yourselves below!
Listen to some of the tracks from our favorite most-recent album releases in the playlist below, or read about last month’s highlights instead!
