Genres

Almost everything about Frank Ocean is shrouded in mystery and contradiction. He’s brash and outspoken, yet a virtual recluse; he’s a modern media star, yet he rarely engages with the modern media; he’s one of music’s most distinct voices, but he’s also a cypher. If you’re looking to his new album, Endless, for clues to who the man is, you’ll be disappointed. For one thing, this may not actually be his new album — maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. All we know is that the music here is baffling and beautiful. The spare, ominous acoustic balladry of “Rushes To” recalls the gothic folk of British experimentalists Current 93, while the album’s skittering narrative threads, dark gospel underpinnings, and political nods recall everything from Erykah Badu’s masterwork New Amerykah Part One to the latest Kanye West. There’s a refracted funk that channels ‘00s underground R&B group Sa-Ra Creative Partners, which makes sense considering that Om’mas Keith from Sa-Ra provides piano on the album. The moody electronic ambience of producer Arca, who has previously worked with everyone from Kanye to Bjork, is all over this album. This playlist looks at some of the albums collaborators and influences, as well as sample sources. It’s a companion piece — a helpful set of footnotes to this strange, gorgeous record.

On August 20, Frank Ocean released his first full-length work in four years (two if you count the soundtrack for the Endless visual album). As Blonde (alternately spelled as Blond) reached Apple Music, Ocean organized giveaways of a limited-edition magazine, Boys Don’t Cry, at four pop-up shops around the globe. A page in the magazine lists Blonde contributors, inspirations, and sample sources; as of this writing, it’s the only evidence of official album credits he’s given us so far.As a result, half of this playlist references Blonde guests such as Beyonce, Kendrick Lamar, Andre 3000, and Tyler, the Creator, and session players like Om’mas Keith of Sa-Ra Creative Partners. However, the other half of the list attempts to deduce how Ocean created his new album’s dense computer washes and hazy, amniotic sound. Thanks to the aforementioned Boys Don’t Cry tip sheet, we know that Brian Eno’s ambient explorations, Jonny Greenwood’s moody soundtracks, and Jamie xx’s melancholy club tracks make up his sources. There are parallels to Bradford Cox of Deerhunter’s fluid sexuality and adolescent anomie, Raury’s blend of airy indie-rock and conscious rap, Julee Cruise’s ethereal “Falling” theme for Twin Peaks, and Mazzy Star’s essential ode to long California drives with nothing to think about, “Fade Into You.” In total, this collection of gospel, electronic, rap, pop and rock numbers are a varied contrast to Blonde’s washed-out haze. Think of Ocean as a good chef who reduced dozens of ingredients into a tonally consistent and thought-provoking work.

Over at the Brooklyn Vegan blog, Andrew Sacher recently took on the task of selecting 30 Essential Psychedelic Soul Songs. The psych soul sound emerged when straightforward R&B artists tapped into the late-‘60s/early-‘70s countercultural vibe with trippy arrangements and often socially conscious lyrics. But it can be a slippery beast: On the early end of the timeline, it can be tough to draw the line between progressive but still relatively straight late-‘60s R&B and its turned-on, tuned-in cousin. On the later end of the timeline, all the wah-wah floating around tends to blur the border between acid soul and the realm of blaxploitation.But Sacher does a fine job hitting plenty of the genre’s highlights: The Chambers Brothers’ loopy, barnstorming epic “Time Has Come Today” and The 5th Dimension’s flower power harmony-pop classic “Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In” rub shoulders with the heady swirl of Funkadelic’s “Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow” and Terry Callier’s hypnotic, jazz-kissed psych folk saga “Dancing Girl,” along with a healthy batch of contemporary tracks. But as satisfying as the list is, it largely sticks to marquee names and iconic cuts, and as Sacher rightly points out, there’s plenty more territory to be explored.In that spirit, here’s an addendum to the BV playlist; think of it as a psychedelic soul annex. You’ll find more esoteric acts like Black Merda, Madhouse—not the Prince side project—and William S. Fischer, as well as unexpected artists like Muddy Waters, Chubby Checker, and jazzman Stanley Cowell dipping a toe in the psych soul waters. Closing the list with a cut from Childish Gambino’s 2016 tour de force Awaken, My Love! underscores the fact that this sound needn’t be tied to a single era.

The shoring up of thrash metal into an identifiable genre—one with founders (i.e., the oft-invoked, if frequently debated Big Four), weirdo outliers, and delineated boundaries—occurred fairly late in the movement’s genesis. After all, back in the ’80s (and even into the early ’90s, actually) the phrase was used to describe just about any metal or hardcore band blurring the lines between them. Nowadays, we like to use micro-terms like "crossover thrash" when heaping praise on the mosh-pit belligerence of Suicidal Tendencies or Victim in Pain-era Agnostic Front, and "thrashcore" when gushing about the crap-fi eccentricities of Septic Death. Moreover, it isn’t at all inappropriate to apply the thrash label to Venom, the primary bridge between the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and early Slayer, or Possessed, perhaps the first shredders to make the leap to guttural death-metal terrain, or even the Exhorder-obsessed Pantera, who slowed down the music’s blazing tempos to help kickstart groove metal. Ultimately, though, all these bands are deliciously grotesque fruit fallen from the thrash family tree.Even modern revivalists—some of whom are like computer programs in their uncanny ability to recreate the feel of old, ’80s jams—can’t escape this fuzziness. Municipal Waste’s 2007 album The Art of Partying, frequently hailed as one of the great modern thrash albums (and every bit as rude and aggressive as the vintage stuff), worships the manic crossover of Suicidal Tendencies more than it does the canonical thrash of Slayer or Metallica. Another modern classic is The Haunted’s self-titled debut from 1998, and it’s clearly informed by the tight, mechanically disciplined rhythms of melodic death metal (which makes total sense considering the Swedes’ ties to At the Gates). But maybe the most radical examples are groups like Power Trip and Vektor, who drag thrash into the post-everything 21st-century by blending it with blackened blurs, noise-rock’s wall-of-distortion, layers of in-studio sound manipulation, and (in the case of the latter) proggy expanses and epic space-rock runs. But then again, this merely is par for the course for a genre that, despite its thrash or die!!! expression of purity, has always preferred messy splatters to well-groomed orderliness. For more, check out our New School of Thrash playlist. This feature is part of our Thrash 101 online course that was produced in partnership with the good rocking folks at GimmeRadio, a free 24/7 metal radio station hosted by heavy-music experts like Megadeths Dave Mustaine and Lamb of Gods Randy Blythe. Check them out here and sign up for the Thrash 101 course here.

Thank you for checking out the eighth installment our Thrash 101 program, produced in conjunction with GimmeRadio, your free 24/7 radio station hosted by heavy-music experts and artists. Get it all free right here.The shoring up of thrash metal into an identifiable genre—one with founders (i.e., the oft-invoked, if frequently debated Big Four), weirdo outliers, and delineated boundaries—occurred fairly late in the movement’s genesis. After all, back in the ’80s (and even into the early ’90s, actually) the phrase was used to describe just about any metal or hardcore band blurring the lines between them. Nowadays, we like to use micro-terms like "crossover thrash" when heaping praise on the mosh-pit belligerence of Suicidal Tendencies or Victim in Pain-era Agnostic Front, and "thrashcore" when gushing about the crap-fi eccentricities of Septic Death. Moreover, it isn’t at all inappropriate to apply the thrash label to Venom, the primary bridge between the New Wave of British Heavy Metal and early Slayer, or Possessed, perhaps the first shredders to make the leap to guttural death-metal terrain, or even the Exhorder-obsessed Pantera, who slowed down the music’s blazing tempos to help kickstart groove metal. Ultimately, though, all these bands are deliciously grotesque fruit fallen from the thrash family tree.Even modern revivalists—some of whom are like computer programs in their uncanny ability to recreate the feel of old, ’80s jams—can’t escape this fuzziness. Municipal Waste’s 2007 album The Art of Partying, frequently hailed as one of the great modern thrash albums (and every bit as rude and aggressive as the vintage stuff), worships the manic crossover of Suicidal Tendencies more than it does the canonical thrash of Slayer or Metallica. Another modern classic is The Haunted’s self-titled debut from 1998, and it’s clearly informed by the tight, mechanically disciplined rhythms of melodic death metal (which makes total sense considering the Swedes’ ties to At the Gates). But maybe the most radical examples are groups like Power Trip and Vektor, who drag thrash into the post-everything 21st-century by blending it with blackened blurs, noise-rock’s wall-of-distortion, layers of in-studio sound manipulation, and (in the case of the latter) proggy expanses and epic space-rock runs. But then again, this merely is par for the course for a genre that, despite its thrash or die!!! expression of purity, has always preferred messy splatters to well-groomed orderliness. Your next Thrash 101 chapter will go even deeper into this new school...

Since 2012, L.A.-via-Brooklyn imprint felte has been shining a light on the dark, dissonant end of the indie-rock spectrum. This week, label linchpins Odonis Odonis and Chasms (pictured) wrap up the felte Presents: Everything Is Going According To Plan tour with shows in Portland (Dec. 6), Seattle (Dec. 7), and Vancouver (Dec. 8). Here, label founder Jeff Owens reveals the artists that have shaped feltes non-conformist ethos. "The bands on this playlist are by no means the only acts that have been inspirations for the label, but are ones that I have listened to on a consistent basis and have impacted our decision-making beyond words."—Jeff Owens, feltePhoto: Jess Garten

Whats This Playlist All About? Atlantas finest indie/experimental rock band have committed to curating a list of "interesting Spotify finds" every Sunday night. Perhaps their goal is to distract us from any hopes for a new Deerhunter album.What Do You Get? Since this mix changes weekly, we cant get down to specifics too much, but do expect smoky jazz from legends like John Coltrane, pleasant field recordings from far-off places, ancient instrumental song from even farther-off places, regrettably forgotten 80s art-rock, and pleasant harmonies from familial favorites like the Everly Brothers and the Carter Family.Greatest Discovery: So far, weve enjoyed dynamic jazz experiments from the George Russell Sextet ("Theme") and some calming contrabass compositions from Bertram Turetzky ("Reflections on Ives and Whittier").Is This the Best Way to Spend Your Sunday Night? Its a pretty ideal weekend unwinder, better than, say, "Netflix and chill."

We’ve all heard the grievances lobbed at Auto-Tune before; that it’s a stand-in for actual talent, that it strips away any humanity from a singer’s voice, that it just doesn’t sound good, etc. Towards the end of the ‘00s, the technology developed such a negative stigma that everybody from JAY Z to Death Cab for Cutie was taking public shots at it, fretting over the implication that a musician might be able to modify their voice in order to make better music. Call it a plea for authenticity, or perhaps just fear of a changing world, but when Auto-Tune began to dominate pop music, many treated it more like an epidemic than a novel sonic trend.Needless to say, many artists have embraced the vocal technology with aplomb, and over the past several years we’ve seen some incredible work done in the field of vocal manipulation that could not exist were it not for everyone’s favorite pitch-corrector. Like any great electronic software, the magic isn’t really in the tools but the hands that use them. And with Auto-Tune in particular, the possibilities are ripe for contorting and inflating the human voice to extraterrestrial levels, whether in the mainstream or in the underground.Respects must be paid to Kanye West, who were it not for his 2008 cybernetic reinvention statement 808s & Heartbreak or his 2010 masterpiece “Runaway” (the crowning vocal finale of which may be Auto-Tune’s finest moment), the sound certainly would not have taken root in the way that it has today. Whether it’s in the basement rap shenanigans of Lil Yachty and Sicko Mobb (whose digitized vocals soar with ecstatic, lovable amateurism), or in the dystopic, self-loathing warbles of Future, it often feels like Auto-Tune has become a tool for distorting and reinventing pop vocals rather than perfecting them, unveiling new depths in between the unnaturally shifting notes. Even breakout indie figures like Sufjan Stevens and Bon Iver have gleefully taken to the tool, further blurring the lines of what kinds of music we commonly associate with the sound.Much of the original gripe with Auto-Tune had to do with the sense of synthetic plasticity associated with just having a computer smooth out all of your melodies for you. It’s a completely natural instinct to crave that tactile, irreplaceable feel that comes with music made wholly from scratch, to say nothing of our society’s general paranoia over encroaching technological dependency. But the goal of art should always be to speak honestly, using whatever means are necessary to achieve that goal. In an age where artificiality rules the day, where human nature has become so deeply intertwined with algorithmic machinery, is it possible that a technology designed to turn our imperfections into beautiful music could be one of the most real things we have at our disposal?

Dennis Lyxzén is the lead singer of post-hardcore heroes Refused, mod-rock revolutionaries The (International) Noise Conspiracy, punk thrashers AC4, and currently, the shadowy post-punk outfit INVSN (who are currently touring North America in support of their latest album, The Beautiful Stories). Dennis created this playing specially for The Dowsers—here, he explains the concept behind it.Growing up in the north of Sweden as a working-class kid there are certain elements of American culture that fascinate and enthrall. Lana Del Rey sings about the real underclass of the USA—not the hard-working people that Bruce sings about, but the real freaks and misfits and about a darkness inherited in the culture. A world filled with sex and drugs and violence with a language of alienation and despair. Under the glamour and glitz, there’s a darkness and depth that give way to a more nuanced picture of America.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=StlsK9chYQ0"Love" is, granted, one of her more hopeful and optimistic songs even though it is still filled with longing and a sense of disconnect. To celebrate the release of our cover version—and to try and position Lana Del Rey as a part of a fine musical tradition—INVSN gives you 19 songs from the American Underbelly.1. Townes Van Zandt, "Waiting Around to Die" (1968)The true outsider and part of the outlaw western tradition. Townes claims this is the first song he ever wrote. A song about gamblers and thieves and liars. One of the most haunting songs about human despair ever written.2. The Velvet Underground, "Candy Says" (1969)In a time of peace and love and bubblegum pop, The Velvet Underground wrote songs about sex and drugs and violence. But not speculative or cynical. It always just seemed like stories about their lives. Lou Reed kept singing about the outcasts and the junkies until he died.3. Tom Waits, "Christmas Card From A Hooker in Minneapolis" (1978)Tom Waits needs little introduction. Balancing on the edge of the absurd and the dark, but still a mainstay in American music. His songs and stories always touch on the tragic, on the fates of people that never get songs written about them. Beautiful and sad and scary.4. Nico, "Vegas" (1981)Once a part of The Velvet Underground, Nico was the embodiment of everything they sang about. She was a tragic but fascinating figure. She wrote music and songs like no one else, and lived life like her songs.5. T.S.O.L., "Code Blue" (1981)Even by punk standards, TSOL were an anomaly. Weird surfers that exploded with violence and cross-dressing. They were grave robbers and, by any standards, frightening and real. Sure. a song about necrophilia might be goofy, and it would definitely not fly in 2017, but it’s something different and it’s a representation of a fixation with everything extreme and forbidden.6. The Gun Club, "The House On Highland Ave." (1983)The Gun Club took punk and added blues and gospel and country music. They wrote songs about death and murder and drugs and Jeffrey Lee Pierce was tortured soul in the true sense of the term. This song about hope and murder is one of the greatest songs ever written about said subjects.7. Christian Death, "Awake At the Wall" (1984)Goth and all of its glorious darkness never made as big an impact in America as it did in Europe. The biggest goth bands were always imports. Christian Death was, of course, a golden exception to this. Filled with death and darkness and anguish and despair, they made some true American classics.8. Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, "Tupelo" (1985)Nick Cave might be Australian, but few people have delved deeper into American culture. His early recordings are filled with so much violence, and are steeped in a language stolen from the blues and the gospel.9. Sonic Youth, "Death Valley 69" (1985)Sonic Youth came armed with equal parts punk and art-school sensibility. Inspired by Manson and Madonna, they set about to become a staple of American alternative culture. Even with their most successful albums, the darkness was never far away. (The Raymond Pettibon artwork for Goo was inspired by the Moors Murders of the 1960s.)10. Dead Moon, "Dead Moon Night" (1989)Few bands have symbolized the American underground as well as Dead Moon. Always the outsiders, always freaks, and always autonomous to a default. Dark brooding songs that channel outlaw country and Delta blues but with a punk edge. Dead Moon are truly an institution of the American Underbelly.11. Pain Teens, "Bondage" (1991)Pain Teens were on the fringes of the punk scene in Texas. Using tape manipulation and sampling, they become more of an experimental noise unit, singing about sex and murder and trying to push the envelope both musically and thematically.12. Lustmord, "Ixaxaar" (1992)Lustmord came to prominence in the early 80s with heavy ambient industrial music rooted in the tradition of everything extreme: mass-murder, death, religion, and the usual subjects. Over the years, his music has become more contemplative, but it’s still very much a part of something different from the ordinary. With an album called The Monstrous Soul, how can you really expect anything else?13. Diamanda Galas, "The Thrill is Gone" (1998)With a voice that has been called the most unnerving, vocal terror Diamanda has haunted us with music about death and religion and darkness like few others.14. PJ Harvey, "The Whores Hustle and The Hustler Whores" (2000)PJ has always had a knack for telling stories about human suffering and alienation. From the streets of NYC to Palestinian refugee camps, the stories are real and bleak. This song from Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea is a portrait of the underclass and the conditions of life that they have to endure.15. Morrissey, "First Of the Gang To Die" (2004)Morrissey is, of course, a Brit in exile. And as much and American has embraced his Britishness, he has also embraced his new home. This song about gang-culture in Los Angeles is both beautiful and sad, and talks about an undercurrent of American violence that dictates the life of the underclass. A true masterpiece.16. Chelsea Wolfe, "Wasteland" (2011)Chelsea Wolfe has worked hard the past 10 years and carved out a nice niche as the new queen of darkness. With heavy gothic themes and album titles like Pain Is Beauty, she is carrying the tradition of American darkness onwards with her own sound.17. Crime And The City Solution, "American Twilight" (2013)From Australia to Berlin to London to, finally, Detroit, Simon Bonney has immersed himself in American culture so much that he made some fantastic Americana records as a solo artist in the 90s. With lyrics about the homeless and junkies and about despair and darkness, "American Twilight" is a fantastic testimony of the American Underbelly.18. Lana Del Rey, "Ultraviolence" (2014)The reason we are here and the reason we are making this list in the first place. No real explanation needed. A beautiful and haunting song about love and violence. Stealing lines from The Crystals and singing about cult leaders, Lana continues the tradition of American darkness with fine form.19. Marilyn Manson, "Third Day of a Seven Day Binge" (2015)Marilyn Manson is one of the most American artists of all time. The bastard child of Marilyn Monroe and Charles Manson, and a true representation of the opposite poles of a culture of glamour and violence. Drugs and sex and death have filled his songs and life for the past 25 years, making him a true institution of American culture. Here’s a song from his latest record that shows there’s no sign of him slowing down.

Thanks to the Dusty Rhino Camp, Tycho has become something of a fixture at Black Rock City in recent years. The San Franciscan’s gauzy, intoxicating mixes have served as the soundtrack for many a dust-covered, scarf-wrapped Burner tripping, twirling, or cycling across the Nevada desert in insect goggles. This year’s sunrise set is reflective of Tycho’s signature style as a DJ. Featuring Boards of Canada, Cubenx, Tourist, as well as a few of his own productions, it’s 72 minutes of ambient-drenched electronica and avant-rock that, while psychedelic, remains safe and comfy throughout. Beats are present, but they’re like phantoms emerging from a hazy drift only to return before assuming corporeal form. Showing off his deep knowledge of genres outside of electronic music, he closes out with a profoundly meditative slice of West Coast acid rock from L.A. hippie Jonathan Wilson. Well done, Tycho.