Remember Stereolab? The band was one of the biggest stars of the 90s indie scene and, like so many of their peers, seemed as much interested in process -- refining the same idiosyncratic grooves over and over -- as in writing singularly great songs. As a result, any fan could come up with their own top 10, though Raymond Cummings omission of "Metronomic Underground," which was a mainstay of Stereolab shows before they finally splintered in 2008, seems particularly careless. However, if you need a short primer to the band that made 60s French chanson cool again, this is as good as any.
This 2013 playlist incited more than a few guffaws, and its not hard to see why. Nas "I Can" is interpreted as a warning "against the temptations of sex, drugs and ignorance." Jay Zs "Where Have You Been" is cast as a "defense of family values." Warren Gs "Regulate" is seen as a defense of "property rights." Compiled by Stan Veuger for conservative think tank American Enterprise Institute, his selections emphasize how rap, like all music, touches upon universal themes that can be recast as right wing or liberal. And lets not forget that yes, mainstream raps celebration of unfettered capitalism is a decidedly conservative impulse. Its kind of an ingenious list in a way...but then again, didnt Eminem mock this kind of thinking in "White America"? -- Mosi Reeves
As we begin our journey with the Dowsers, a few things are essential: a domain hosting platform, a CMS, and a Michael Jackson essentials playlist. We could quibble with Rolling Stone that many of these are Jackson 5 tracks and not Michael solo tracks, but the greatness of each and every one of these is pretty much inarguable (with the possible exception of "Butterflies"). Jacko doesnt share the cred of Prince, or the romantic boomer idealism of James Brown, but his music and his persona still loom over the pop landscape.(Note: since Rolling Stone initially published this feature as a Top 50 list, "We Are the World" has slipped off the accompanying Spotify playlist. But then you dont really need to hear that song again, do you?)
On Double Booked, his 2009 concept album for Blue Note records, pianist Robert Glasper played around with the idea of being torn between two venues-slash-identities: the dance club and the jazz hall. The first half of Booked found Glasper playing in a hard-swinging acoustic trio anchored by his fearsome piano chops. (That’s where he turned it loose on Monk’s “Think of One.”) And the second half of this double-album set was the debut of Glasper’s electric-fusion “Experiment” ensemble. (This is the band that frequently works with emcees like Snoop Dogg and Yasiin Bey, as well as R&B talents like Erykah Badu and Brandy.) The brief skits on Double Booked were meant to be excerpts from messages left on Glasper’s voicemail (ah, the 2000s!), evidence of different collaborators pulling an over-stretched keyboardist in one stylistic direction or another.But the not-so-well-kept secret is that this creative hustle is the way Glasper prefers to live his artistic life. He signaled his interest in blowing past archaic genre-divisions back in 2007, on his trio album In My Element — also known as the album where he created a medley from Herbie Hancock’s “Maiden Voyage” and Radiohead’s “Everything in Its Right Place.” Since then, he’s used his supposedly “jazz coded” acoustic trio to cover works by Kendrick Lamar (“I’m Dying of Thirst”), while also putting some extended, exploratory soloing into his “Experiment” ensemble (see that group’s performance of the Glasper original tune “Festival”). On the occasion of Glsaper’s latest release with the Experiment, we’ve collected some of his best compositions and performances, whether they draw inspiration from pop, rock, rap, jazz—or all of the above. Naturally, we’ve included his bravura guest-artist appearance on Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly, too.
Subscribe to the Spotify playlist here.Just as the Flamers mixtape series from 2008 to 2010 made Meek Mill the toast of Philadelphia, the Dreamchasers series became the franchise that made him a national star. The first volume in 2011 celebrated Meek’s signing to Rick Ross’s Maybach Music Group and featured his breakthrough single “Ima Boss,” as well as the first of his narrative “Tony Story” tracks, demonstrating the MC’s commanding voice and his chemistry with Philly producer Jahlil Beats. 2012’s Dreamchasers 2 was so highly anticipated that its arrival crashed the servers of mixtape sites, and 2013’s third installment was a star-studded affair with multiple appearances from Nicki Minaj and French Montana. And 2016’s DC4 was a confident comeback after a year of beef and controversy.
What a relief to hear “Eminence Front” in car commercials: the heretofore forgotten 1982 track, distinguished by a burbling synthesizer loop and a steady Kenney Jones drum track that’s like a metronome and for once doesn’t make me miss Keith Moon, now is among The Who’s most streamed and downloaded songs. “Eminence Front” also redeems the group’s ignoble final chapter, during which Pete Townshend, realizing he was no longer young, couldn’t write for an imagined audience of twentysomethings and pretend he still understood them. Who Are You, Face Dances, and especially It’s Hard were among the first signs of the menace represented by the boomer generation as it aged. When Roger Daltrey rasps, “You came to me with open arms/and open legs” in 1981’s “You Better You Bet,” I want to hide in a fallout shelter. And it got MTV play.But for a decade Townshend did understand. The kids weren’t just alright; sexually confused, struggling with a rage incommensurate with the parents they had no say in choosing or the schools to which they were sent, they were fucked up and willing to get more fucked up. Townshend offered no answers save release.Visit our affiliate/partner site Humanizing the Vacuum for great lists, commentary, and more.
Subscribe to the Spotify playlist right here.Tom Waits has not only one of the most distinct voices of all folk-rock crooners, he also has one of the most nuanced and studied approaches to narrative and musical accompaniment of any modern songwriter. His gravelly, whiskey-soaked voice, one whose every forlorn syllable bears witness to a lifetime of tragic loss, conjures somber and lamenting narratives almost effortlessly and constructs unmistakably American stories with vivid language and crushing pathos. The content he takes up, which ranges from hobo adagios and flower funerals to tearful reflections on missed opportunities, moves even the most stoic of listeners. His relatable melodies and his jazz- and blues-flavored progressions and cadences meld into a strange and unmatched sound—one of a singular, time-worn voice gliding sympathetically above 88 melancholy black and white keys, ever-searching for the heart of Saturday night.
Todd Rundgren certainly deserves an album guide. After peaking in the early 70s with his pop-rock classic Something/Anything?, he embarked on a journey that involved dozens of albums, side projects, and little of the AM gold clarity that marked his best-known work. Hes had a career similar to Prince -- using increasingly accessible technology and distribution methods to flood the market with product -- but without the Purple Ones killer catalog to sustain popular interest. So thank UK magazine Dummy for creating a sympathetic primer to Rundgrens boundless creativity. Its made in honor of Rundgrens Runddans, a collaboration with Sereena-Maneeshs Emil Nikolaisen and Ibiza disco revivalist Lindstrøm that was released last May.
Superstar producer Hudson Mohawke started out playing a British variation of the beat music that Flying Lotus and his camp started up in the L.A. scene in the middle of last decade (the first time I saw him was at a Brainfeeder party), but he quickly grew out of that. He helped bring the electronic genre know as trap to the mainstream and has also been a guest producer for Kanye West. Laurent does a nice job highlighting some of the high points of his career, though its a more idiosyncratic list. The blurping, steel drum electro of "Allhot" is a beautiful thing.
At the risk of sounding horribly reductive (and perhaps a bit factually vague), Sun Ra was a nut. He claimed he was born on Saturn (Wikipedia puts his birthplace at Birmingham, Alabama), developed his own brand of cosmic mysticism (later dubbed afro-futurism and adopted by everyone from George Clinton to Janelle Monae) and made a headdress and flowing robe a cornerstone of his wardrobe. He also released dozens of albums, all of which were idiosyncratic and none of which was particularly canonical, so Jason Heller’s attempt to provide a beginner’s guide are valiant and valuable. The playlist itself is understandably all over the map, but it provides a nice glance at the many stylistic shifts Sun Ra would make.