Influences

This post is part of our program, The Story of Kendrick, an in-depth, 10-part look at the life and music of Kendrick Lamar. Sound cool and want to receive the other installments in your inbox? Go here. Already signed up and enjoying it? Help us get the word out and share on Facebook, Twitter, or with this link. Your friends will thank you.Shakespeare once famously declared that brevity is the soul of wit, but simplicity has been the last thing on Kendrick Lamar’s mind for the majority of his career. His two previous albums, 2012’s ghetto uprising saga good kid, M.A.A.D. city and 2015’s political prog-rap opus To Pimp a Butterfly were sprawling, intricately detailed patchworks, suffused with symbolism and strung together with the kind of recurring characters and monologuing one would expect from the Bard himself. But DAMN. is a different story. Having already claimed the throne as one of (if not the) most talented rappers in the history of the game, DAMN. is the sound of a young artist at the peak of his abilities delivering his music straight, no chaser. Not to say that DAMN. isn’t as multilayered and critical as anything else K.Dot’s put his name on, but now more than ever it feels like Lamar’s focus is entirely on the songs rather than the cohesive effect of the project. Each song on DAMN. feels as if it is coming from a different universe, be it the ‘90s slow ride of “HUMBLE.” or the futurist R&B of “LOVE.” or the absolutely bipolar “XXX.,” which travels between Metro Boomin minimalism, Public Enemy fury, and smooth boom-bap consciousness in the span of four minutes. Though Lamar’s influences are vast and easily traceable (the bassy Afrofuturism of Flying Lotus, the beat-poetry prophecies of the Last Poets, the self-aware party-rap of OutKast), on DAMN. he synthesizes them effortlessly, letting his own musical voice shine through more clearly than ever before.All of which makes DAMN. an incredibly fun, engaging listen, and adds another notch to Lamar’s already impressive catalog. With small-time songwriters emerging from the woodworks on major tracks (Zacari?) and mind-boggling appearances from big-name rock stars (U2!?), DAMN. is packed to capacity with ideas and influences and collaborators—so take a listen to this playlist and start unpacking the latest from one of our generation’s greatest.

Apart from being the best album of the year, The Life of Pablo is an encyclopedia of contemporary culture. More than any other album in 2016, it is about bourgeois subjectivity. It’s about religion, sex, family, friends. It’s about medication, entrepreneurship, loneliness, and fame. But more than anything, it’s about what it means to be human today. Over the course of the album’s 20 tracks, Kanye explores the far reaches of his conscious mind, ever teetering between faith and despair, confidence and suffering. It has become popular to dismiss Kanye as crazy when taking into account his social media presence and public antics; however, an analysis of The Life of Pablo’s contents show him not only as sane, but vulnerable, in-touch, and acutely reflective.Part of its vast cultural reach is the fact that The Life of Pablo is infused with with a heavy dose of popular music history, from Nina Simone to Desiigner. Its author’s impressive use of Arthur Russell’s “Answers Me” anchors one of the greatest beats on the album (“30 Hours”), while his rhythmic and thematic interpolation of “Jumpman” by Drake and Future is the lifeblood of “Facts (Charlie Heat Version),” a song completed by Kanye’s imitation of Future’s vocables and his use of sound bytes from Street Fighter II: The World Warrior. These references aren’t merely references—they’re so thoroughly woven into the music of The Life of Pablo that they could not be extricated without compromising the totality of the album. In this sense, the album is a monumental achievement.It’s difficult to excerpt any single song or reference as exemplary from an album that nods to everything from Lexapro to Albert Einstein, so the goal of this playlist is to highlight a few great songs on the album and to intersperse them with some of its most interesting samples and musical references.

The history of indie/alt-rock is essentially one of serial reassessments and revivals—whether its of unsung trailblazers or previously dismissed pop stars. Through the late 80s and early 90s, the influence of the Velvet Underground was all pervasive; by decades end, everyone was into Can and Neu. At the turn of the new millennium, the ghost of Ian Curtis haunted the landscape. A few years later, Bruce Springsteen and Paul Simon underwent the transition from dad-rock deities to indie godheads. Now, it seems everythings coming up McDonald.Tom Petty never really had such a moment—but then, he didnt really have to. More than a specific sound, Petty represented an elusive ideal: He was the model that generations of raucous rockers —be it Dave Grohl or Death From Above 1979—have turned to whenever they wanted to chill out without losing their cool. And maybe the reason why his widespread influence never fortified into a dominant trend is that his acolytes have had so many Pettys from so many eras to choose from.Theres the power-poptimist of "American Girl," which yielded the hopscotch backbeat and needlepoint jangle of The Strokes "Last Nite" and the anthemic, open-sunroof ardor of Japandroids "Evils Sway." Theres the streetwise soul-man of "The Waiting," whose warm glow is exquisitely recreated by Chicago garage combo Twin Peaks on "Cold Lips." Theres the asphalt-rippin rocker of "Runnin Down the Dream," which New York outfit The Men roughed up into the caustic roots-punk barn-burner "Without a Face." Theres the synth-smoothed surrealist of "Dont Come Around Here No More," which provides the pulsating, slow-dissolve backdrop for Phosphorescents "Song For Zula." Theres the luminous acoustic balladeer of Full Moon Fever, which opened up a rural route for urbane indie rockers like Pavement and Liz Phair to travel down. There was his busmans holiday with Traveling Wilburys, whose easy-going honky-pop echoes through the shimmering strums of Dan Auerbachs "Shine on Me." And theres the weed-dazed folkie of "You Dont Know How It Feels," which finds a spiritual sequel of sorts in Wilcos "Passenger Side" (a song that Petty couldve very well have written after rolling that other joint).Tom Petty was like oxygen—always there, all around us, if imperceptibly so. And its nigh impossible to comprehend a world without him. But while his songs will be heard on classic-rock radio and covered by new-country acts for eternity, the artists on this playlist have, over the past two decades, burrowed the seeds of his influence at a more subterranean level, where they continue to flourish. There may be more popular tunes that have overtly—or subconsciously—copped Pettys melodies, but these songs more eagerly carry his spirit into the great wide open.

Ryan Adams’ latest record, Prisoner, contains a profoundly affecting and relatable story of personal overcoming that is beautifully filtered through a hard-hitting kaleidoscope of ‘70s and ‘80s sounds and techniques. Yet despite the ever-present ghosts of his influences, the album is an original, organic fulfillment of what he’s been aiming at for most of his career.The sonic ascent to Prisoner began with his 2014 self-titled album, a misty, midnight ride through his neon mind where echoing drums, glowing guitar riffs, and shadowy organs refract The Replacements and Tunnel of Love-era Springsteen. The following year’s 1989, a song-for-song cover of the Taylor Swift album, went even darker, gesturing toward The Smiths and Springsteen’s moodier moments—try to tell me Adams’ version of “Shake It Off” isn’t a luminous, slow-burn cousin to “I’m on Fire.”Prisoner completes the trajectory of these records. Many have called it a breakup album, which in many ways it is, but it’s also full of hope and power thanks to the strength it draws from Adams’ spiritual predecessors. The lightning-quick guitar outbursts of “Do You Still Love Me?” gesture back to Black Sabbath (Vol. 4 is an Adams favorite), Kiss, and AC/DC. The title track evokes the shiny jangle of Johnny Marr, while “Doomsday” imagines what would happen if The Cure had a harmonica player. “To Be Without You” harkens to the joyous, swaggering folk of The Grateful Dead, and “Outbound Train” is vintage Springsteen, complete with suspended chords and lyrics about cars, loneliness, and boredom.The album’s masterful closer resides at the top of the class of Adams’ grand finales, repeating its mantra of “we disappear” with production so crisp and transparent it sounds like Adams is actually disappearing. And yet, throughout the images of fading taillights and haunted houses, beyond The Smiths and Springsteen, Ryan Adams is doing his own thing. And he nails it.Click here to add to Spotify playlist!

Solange Knowles’ album, A Seat at the Table, is a crisply executed R&B pop album that wooed fans and debuted atop the charts. The album blends elements of pop and electronic music with various threads of soul, adding afrofuturistic flourishes as well as guest appearances from Lil’ Wayne, Kelly Rowland, and Q-Tip. And while that sounds like a hodgepodge of sounds and personnel, the album is subtle and graceful, anchored by Solange’s soft, confident voice and down-to-earth musical sensibility. “Borderline (An Ode to Self Care)” and “Don’t Touch My Hair” champion ideas of black liberation and self-empowerment, and are powerful statements from one of pop’s most socially conscious singers. On this playlist, we look at some of the inspirations for Solange’s beautiful new album, from the woozy otherworldly hip-hop of Shabazz Palaces to the astral jazz of Alice Coltrane. -- Jordannah Elizabeth

M83 is fixated on the sky, on big sound, on feeling alive. Their name is taken from Messier 83, a spiral galaxy; their music, however, comes from primary member Anthony Gonzalez’s long engagement with pop history. Some of his influences, such as the Cocteau Twins, Vangelis, and My Bloody Valentine, are apparent from listening to his music, and yet, his love of the weirder sides of Pink Floyd and The Beatles is equally important. His synthesizer tones are in touch with the ethereal sounds of Jean-Michel Jarre and Tangerine Dream, while the pacing and drama of his more epic works unquestionably gesture toward Slowdive and Sigur Rós. M83 transforms the greatest qualities of these musicians into sonic collages that feel simultaneously familiar and fresh.

Subscribe to the Dowsers Spotify account for all the best playlists from Tame Impala and more.Listeners across nearly every streaming service love putting together track-by-track comparisons meant to meticulously chart how one artist has influenced another. While the erudition displayed in these playlists is phenomenal, they almost always make for lousy listening. Thirty-four tracks bouncing between just Tame Impala and The Beatles gets really old really quick. I’m checking out after about six. What I’d rather hear is a playlist that maps out Tame Impala’s influences on a macro level, one that, in addition to The Beatles, spotlights Led Zeppelin, The Flaming Lips, and Air. After all, what makes Tame Impala unique isn’t the fact that they’re inspired by any one classic rock group, but that they manage to synthesize an absurdly diverse array of influences cutting across multiple genres and generations.

One of the more novel songs to pierce mainstream consciousness in recent years, “Let It Happen” is a psychedelic disco-rock epic largely inspired by Kevin Parker’s chance encounter with a classic Bee Gees banger while cruising around L.A. high on mushrooms and coke. For those who can’t get enough of the way Tame Impala blur together trippy hypnotism and funk-fueled repetition, guitars and synthesizers, kaleidoscopes and mirror balls, I’ve pulled together a few tracks — some old, others new — that bottle varying concentrations of these potent qualities. The slick, light-refracting cuts drawn from ’70s disco definitely speak more to the coked-out aspects of Parker’s stoned epiphany. The quirky art rock and alt-dance jams, on the other hand, throb with the visionary delirium unique to a ’shrooms journey. The mix covers a lot of ground; after all, it includes both Daft Punk and Electric Light Orchestra. Yet it maintains an alluring, deeply immersive sensibility throughout. Hopefully, you’ll dig it as well.

Philip is consistently one of my favorite music writers and he proves why with this excellent look at the artists and tracks that influenced a key track from Jamie XXs new collection, In Colour. Four Tet, Burial and Lone are all clear influences, but (relatively) obscure artists such as IVVVO and WK7 make this playlist enjoyable. Be sure to also read Philips excellent profile of Jamie XX in Pitchfork

The loss of Leonard Cohen is an incalculable one. But part of the reason he’ll be missed so much is also one of the reasons the world without him might be a bit less bleak than we expect. The power of his poetic vision was so strong that he ended up deeply influencing generation after generation of artists operating in every stylistic sector, from folk rock to post-punk. Countless singers have covered Cohen’s songs over the years (including some of the artists you’ll encounter here), but these are the people whose own work has been irrevocably imprinted with the inspiration of the man from Montreal. It might not always be immediately obvious, but it’s undeniably there, whether it’s in the devilish alt-rock antics of Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, the moody singer/songwriter style of Suzanne Vega, or even the grunge-era growl of Afghan Whigs and Nirvana (whose longing for “a Leonard Cohen afterlife” in “Pennyroyal Tea” takes on a whole new resonance in this context).