Video & Audio: Playing dumb in the gender/genre wars

Wishy-washy like my washi tape

CMAT: “The Jamie Oliver Petrol Station”

The chords go down a tone for the third and fourth verse lines, but the singing goes up (to a seventh I think), ensuring constant motion despite the bassline stubbornly refusing to move off B flat, why don’t more drony indie bands have this level of structure etc. As for why she hates Jamie Oliver like she’s a West Virginian schoolchild, it doesn’t matter; the song’s real subject is what this reveals about herself <glances at Oliver’s olive oil fried rice recipe> wait actually, it’s about fuck that guy.

Sabrina Carpenter: “Manchild”

Not for the first time, the received music (you liked “Good Luck, Babe”’s throwbackisms? here’s a lazy version of that) takes a back seat to her character. Even that’s congealing a bit: yet again, she may act like a dumb blonde but she’s smarter than all of the many boys she gets involved with. How much longer can we believe “I swear they choose me, I’m not choosing them”? Since she’s a historically good pop actress (this week’s Dylanesque: the level of condescension she achieves before settling on the titular slur), a while I think.

Irmãs de Pau, Duquesa, Brunoso: “Queimando Ice”

Brazil funk innovation seems to have slowed down, which is pushing me towards, uh oh, listening for the vocals. Those here, from Irmãs de Pau (“sisters of dicks” or “with dicks” depending on how you read the preposition) and rapper Duquesa, are as hard as their pleasures. Run “A única parte boa é quando tá com a pica” through a translator if you wish, though in a private browser.

Xiangyu, Gimgigam: “はっちゃKO”

These Japanese randos remain better than anyone else in the Global North at making something new out of South African dance music. The beats combine the hard rhythmic edge of gqom with amapiano log-donks and brief passages of superfluous beauty, while Xiangyu is a tremendously versatile vocalist (it sounds like she slips into a fake Britpunk accent at points.)

Nourished by Time: “Max Potential”

The best part by far is the entry into the chorus—a monotone intro bursts into a major key and epic ’80s guitar and a counterpoint between his “idiosyncratic” vocals and the chipmunky upper part, and it all quickly devolves so we can repeat the trick. Over the right closing credits, this could be the “Take My Breath Away” of the hypnagogic era; somebody phone a Safdie.

Piao, Stephanie Poetri: “Just a Girl”

Asian (North) American girls do Asian (North) American girl consumption stuff, like blow money on Gashapon and go to the farmers’ market—with other girls, because what’s the point of consumption otherwise? It’s interesting that “just a girl” has evolved to excuse basic behavior as long as you’re smart enough to know you’re being basic (best evidence they are: they don’t rhyme anything with “world”.) Perhaps that’s also why they get away with sounding like one of those not-too-rappy Roman Reloaded tracks I was under the impression everyone except me disdained.

David Murray Quartet: “Bird’s the Word”

A riff not on the Trashmen but on Charlie Parker, which is almost as unprecedented in Murray’s long career. He’s always combined an old school attitude to tone quality with selected subsequent free innovations, so to hear him blow over a straight bebop chord cycle is like unearthing a hitherto unsuspected ’50s Ben Webster classic.

Jillian Jacqueline: “Year of the Dragon”

Country-pop washout turns to Indiecana (there’s banjos and a Substack) and immediately finds herself one of the better songwriters in the subgenre to not have a Pulitzer winner in the family. The song’s a touch rambly—narrator wants to live like a French film character; my guess is Amelie not Breathless—but has good imagery (“the memories cling to me like a wet bathing suit”) to go with the residual Swiftism. Good singing too; literary pedigree doesn’t help with that.

Ayra Starr & Wizkid: “Gimme Dat”

Another way out of a genre’s rut is to indulge in questionable taste, and well, Wyclef was due for a revival. Merely turning ’Clef/Mary J’s “911” into a sex jam would barely register on the Badtasteometer these days, so in addition they turn his Diallo song into a sex jam (without even changing the name): yeah, that’ll do it. Personally, though, I would’ve just given Skrillex a call.

Lil Wayne, BigXthaPlug, Jay Jones: “Hip-Hop”

Yes, we’re at a historical point where Weezy needs BigX’s star power. “I rap but fuck this hip-hop”, the latter says, shocking anyone who still says “hip-hop”, which is mostly college educated AARP eligibles (i.e. most of my readership.) Wayne’s first verse starts “b—ch b—ch b—ch”/“rich rich rich”/“pussy deep dish”/“squish squish squish”, which my college educated AARP eligibles are mostly fine with.

ZVRI, J-SMash, Kane Keid, K.Keed, Lowfeye, LaCabra: “Bhenga”

Microgenre alert: “gqom tech”, which so far to me sounds like gqom with better software—the low end synth (that occasionally jumps octaves) is state of the art globorave—plus a “everyone in South Africa gets a few bars” approach to vocals. Fortunately the kicks can still shake your knees.

Ms. Ezra Furman: “Power of the Moon”

The tremolo guitar chords, on long-term loan from the Velvets, are satisfactory as devotional objects, the bass provides Jamersonesque support, and Furman can still turn an image—“I see a promise from God in a rainbow on an oil spill”—before abandoning herself to the influence of heavenly bodies. Awoo?

DJ Pbeatas, DJ KN de Vila Velha and pals: “Senta pro Trem”

DJ KN de Vila Velha and pals: “Sentar pro Trem”

First version’s a straightforward funk rip of “Set Fire to the Rain”, except it’s about transactional train sex. Second version is avanter—the outro honk is weirdly reminiscent of “O Superman”—and although this one doesn’t provide lyrics, I still hear “puta” a lot so I think I’m safe in assuming it’s still about transactional train sex.

Amaarae: “S.M.O.”

As someone who hasn’t entirely gotten her deal, I’d be fine with Amaarae going all in on expediency. This one, allegedly inspired by Ata Kak (!), does have a rough edge not universally present amongst club throwbacks. I don’t know exactly what “she taste like Lexapro/Coke bottle from Sexico” means, but I think RFK would approve of half of that. As for the Ghana-plus-the-Confederacy flag in the video, well, the current administration approves of half of that as well.

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Final days of our 1985 music poll and still nary a vote for Mr. Mister! Take your broken ballots and let them fly by Tuesday!