What I'm Listening to in August 2020
In August, both S.G. Lewis and Bon Iver found some new collaborators, and the NBA strike coincided with a revisited Q-Tip track.
Every month, I keep an ongoing playlist of songs that I want to keep in my listening rotation. These could be singles, loosies, album standouts, or just songs I can’t get out of my head, but they often have some significance to my own life or the state of the world. This month, there’s some uncertainty of the future—Where are we going? Where am I going? There’s also momentary joy, too, if just for the duration of Impact featuring Robyn and Channel Tres. If you want to get monthly updates on music and other (non-scheduled) things that I’m writing, subscribe to my newsletter.
Here’s what I’m listening to:
A. K. Paul
Be Honest
I was born in the wrong generation. I should have been born on June 1, 2019, the day that Jai Paul released “Do You Love Her Now” and “He,” his first solo music since the influential, infamously leaked 2013 album(?) “Bait Ones.” I would like to have been born on June 1, 2019, first of all, so I could be a blissfully oblivious infant during this time of strife, one whose chief worry is binky and crib. Secondly, I would like to have been born on June 1, 2019, because that is the day that Jai Paul released those songs, surely launching society into an era where Jai Paul releases new songs. Unfortunately, that era hasn’t been delivered quite yet, but the Paul Institute, the label (incubator? collective?) founded by the Paul brothers, is sating some of my desire.
A.K. Paul’s single contribution to Paul Institute - Summer 2020 is very much in the style of his brother’s “Do You Love Her Now” and “He.” One of the highest triumphs of the Paul brothers’ music is mixing (something that I, admittedly, don’t know much about); in “Be Honest,” synths and Prince-style guitar receive the same priority as the main vocal track, along with a bubbling sound effect. Prince’s influence, in fact, is very present in the track. Falsetto vocals and soulful guitar riffs are updated by a more industrial style. I wouldn’t call either of the Pauls’ music necessarily electronic, but it’s the closest generic comparison. “Be Honest” is another in a line of songs from the Paul Institute that continues Prince’s style in a constantly innovated thread.
Flatbush Zombies
Afterlife
“Afterlife,” no joke, might be the Flatbush Zombies’ best song. Full stop. Better than “Breakfast at Epiffanies,” better than “Bounce,” better than anything off of their prolific mixtapes. I was cautiously optimistic when this single was announced with James Blake on production; I just wasn’t sure how well the morbid stoner rap of the Zombies would mesh with Blake’s sweet production. That was misplaced. James Blake plays up the glitchiness of his sound, fortifying it with trunk-knocking bass. The Zombies play well with the beat, punching their bars and dropping heavy one-liners. “I’m a slave on a modern ship,” Erick the Architect raps, “NBA, NFL, not on politics,” a particularly timely sentiment given the historical (if short-lived) NBA strike that happened later in August.
The strongest quality song is its eeriness. James Blake’s falsetto hums scatter the track, and these, combined with the synth and thunder of his booming production, sound like something big is coming, and the Zombies deliver. Predictably, Meechy Darko stands out the most while saying the least. The usual topic— “Acid, acid, say I trip too much—” remains fresh in the way that Meechy’s gravelly delivery is accentuated by James Blake’s stuttering bass. If you haven’t seen the music video for this song, check it out. Needless to say, Flatbush Zombies’ teased upcoming album with James Blake is one of my most anticipated projects this year.
Billie Eilish
My Future
This is an interesting time to be optimistic about the future, but I’ll allow it. Billie Eilish’s vocal chops take more precedence on “My Future” than her previous work, especially in the bare-bones first part of the song. The second part breaks into a jazzy(ish) groove that is a fairly new sound for the goth-adjacent pop prodigy.
Past the switch-up, “My Future” looks forward as a quiet ode to self-love. Billie Eilish goes above and beyond the stereotypical “100%-that-bitch” self-love anthem of the past few years, using subtle production make room for nuance. “Know I’m supposed to be unhappy/ without someone,” she croons, “but aren’t I someone?” There’s also room for vulnerability: “But I know better/ than to drive you home/ ‘cause you’d invite me in/ and I’d be yours again.” Eilish sounds more mature than ever on “My Future.” Makes sense—she’s getting to know herself.
Machinedrum and Freddie Gibbs
Kane Train
I’d like to honestly and earnestly submit Freddie Gibbs for best rapper alive. Machinedrum and Gibbs seem to know that he’s at least in the running on “Kane Train,” which seems to be a celebration of Freddie himself. He dances over triumphant horns, switching his flow within verses and even within the hook itself. “Kane Train” might not be as progressive as Gibbs’s collaborations with producers like Madlib or as gritty as his earlier solo work; instead, it’s a tour-de-force, reminding everyone that Freddie Gibbs, Freddie Kane, can rap circles around anyone and their favorite rapper.
SG Lewis
Impact (feat. Robyn and Channel Tres)
After a windows-down song like “Kane Train,” the vibes simply must continue, and SG Lewis’s collaboration with Robyn and Channel Tres is up to the challenge. I like to think that SG Lewis (the artist who, if you’re like me, you kind of recognize from that one song he did with Clairo) was walking around with a Robyn CD when he bumped into his friend carrying a Channel Tres CD. “You got Channel Tres on my Robyn!” he might have said. “You got Robyn on my Channel Tres!” his friend might have said. The rest is history.
This month, I’ve been struggling with how much escapism is too much. We all deserve some, at the very least—it simply is not healthy to constantly stress about world events, especially ones we cannot change at 5 o’clock on a Tuesday, or at least that’s what I tell myself. “Impact” is a perfect distillation of the escapism that I’m looking for. It’s a reminder of a summer that never was, one in which I imagine myself blasting this on my way back home for the gym or to get drinks with friends. I’m not doing either of those, but if I can pretend that I am for a brief second while I go to Target to pick up deodorant, that’s something, at least.
Bon Iver
AUATC
And just as SG Lewis and co. swept us away from the current moment, Bon Iver and co. bring us back. “AUATC” is essentially the other side of the coin of “Impact:” joined by Jenny Lewis and Bruce Springsteen, amongst others, this song blends a multitude of voices into one. The song is about equality, about humility, and about class struggle—the name of the song is an acronym for “Ate Up All Their Cake,” assumedly a reference to famed Kirsten Dunst role Marie Antoinette. Accordingly, there is no star, only parts of the song where maybe I think I can make out the voice of Springsteen or Vernon or Lewis.
The song is accompanied by a lengthy and rallying statement on inequality, which ends in calls to support local, national, and global initiatives for justice. This is another issue that I have struggled with—I’m donating, I’m retweeting, and yet I still feel fairly powerless. In a way, I constantly vacillate between “AUATC” and “Impact;” one minute I am doing things, paltry as they may be, and feel like this is some kind of work towards a better world, if not for the country, or even myself, then for someone else. The next, I feel like, given the current political climate, actual action still does not matter, so I might as well enjoy life while it’s still enjoyable. Maybe this is something I should tell a therapist and not a substack (what’s the difference?).
Future and Lil Uzi Vert
Over Your Head
I’m, strangely, nostalgic for exactly six months ago. I guess that’s probably because Lil Uzi Vert’s Eternal Atake released then, immediately before what I, as a graduate of 2020, like to call “eternal spring break.” “Over Your Head” might not be the better of the two Future and Lil Uzi Vert collab singles released for Uzi’s birthday. In fact, it’s a tossup; the other one, “Patek,” features some great bar-trading, and Future does repeat “Alligator shoe on the pedal when I press it,” a line which makes the song great in and of itself. “Over Your Head” makes it onto the playlist because it is much more reminiscent of Eternal Atake, one of the last happy memories I have pre-COVID. Future conforms his style to a track which sounds like an outtake of EA, even down to the hook, which is strikingly similar to that of “P2.” It’s a fun, if familiar, song.
Sufjan Stevens
Video Game
This, in contrast, is fun and relatively unfamiliar territory for Sufjan. While I have enjoyed the singles that he has been releasing for his upcoming album, The Ascension, a twelve-minute, soft-spoken ode is not exactly conducive to a playlist. “Video Game” is catchier, more succinct, and easier to grasp (me have small brain), so therefore it goes on the playlist. I would highly encourage checking out the video, too; it features Jalaiah, the creator of the renegade dance, who was originally uncredited for the TikTok craze. This taps into the subject of the song—there is no worth in external validation. At least Sufjan did run Jalaiah her check, though.
Rico Nasty
IPHONE
Lately, possibly as an avenue for escapism, I have more and more been seeking out songs that feel like they’re frying my brain (most of which have been produced by 100 gecs partner Dylan Brady—read more about them on last month’s newsletter). My sources tell me that this is what the kids are calling “Hyperpop,” a subset of PC Music. Is this the sound of the 2020s? Probably not, but it’s something that a lot of people are saying, so who knows. My sources also tell me that Rico Nasty has been foraying into Hyperpop in one way or another for a bit, at least since 2019. “IPHONE,” however, is the first time that this sound of hers really comes into its own, and she goes what the kids call “full gec.”
It’s hard to even tell that this is a Rico Nasty song when she first comes in on the hook—the vocal distortion is so similar to the work of 100 gecs that Rico could pass for Laura Les. Still, she brings her own flavor: there’s a braggadocio and sense of fun that only Rico can impart. “Let me hold my hair for you while you put my ice on,” she sings on the hook. It’s also always fun to hear Rico’s versatility. Originally known for her aggressive rap delivery, she’s been leaning into full-on crooning lately, as evidenced by her second verse: “Face the demons, though, I’m not scared/ I need your love and it’s not fair.” You truly never know where Rico Nasty is going to go with a song until you’ve finished listening to it.
Q-Tip
Wouldn’t Trade
When I added this song to my playlist at the beginning of August, I didn’t think that I would end up using it to write about Obama, of all people, but here I am, about to write about Obama. I originally picked this song because of the infectious sample-work by Q-Tip—the “trade” motif is flipped to basketball and then back to love (a triple entendre?).
Now, though, the concept of trading, player autonomy, and the application of those ideas to the non-sporting world reminds me only of the NBA strike that never was. Within 48 hours of Milwaukee Bucks players collectively announcing that they would not be playing in that night’s game following the murder of Jacob Blake, it seemed like the entire league might be on pause. It makes sense—much like the majority of civil unrest in the country right now, one act of protest in response to one example of racism snowballed into widespread collective action to right centuries’ worth of wrongs. If the league would have actually stopped indefinitely, this would have been a historic moment for the NBA and for the country.
Instead, a few players, including figurehead Lebron James, talked on the phone with former president (now professional phone user) Barack Obama. He apparently counseled them on establishing a social justice committee to ensure that they can make a difference while still making money (for their team owners). This reveals, once again, who Obama is in the U.S. political landscape: an agent meant to cut at the knees any legitimate threat to the pockets of those in power. Not making money is the point of a strike, and it’s in a language that the powerful actually understand. If there is to be real, legitimate, systemic change, we have to stop looking to the demagogues of the liberal elite, and instead look to each other.
You can listen to the entire playlist for August 2020 here.