The ‘90s were an unstable moment for female-driven pop music. Coming out of new wave and post-punk, the decade’s mainstream pop struggled to find its true identity within the context of the grunge of Hole, the coffee-house croonings of Sarah McLachlan, and the hip-hop stylings of Lauryn Hill and the Fugees. Then came the divine intervention of Britney Spears and producer Max Martin, two of the musicians responsible for infusing bubblegum pop with the vitality and sugary veneer of pounding Swedish house and electropop. With their provocative and skirt-shakin’ single “...Baby One More Time,” which featured clean dance rhythms, driving piano chords, and cresting synths, they transformed the game. The next few years saw the infiltration of the new style into the music of both established and rising pop stars such as Christina Aguilera, Mariah Carey, Brandy, Monica, and more, ushering in a new era of pop history.
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.
With its pinging electro beat, earworm melodies, and dubby, disorienting vocals, Dev’s new single “#1” is a sugar-rush of addictive pop. The Los Angeles vocalist is best known for her contribution to the Far East Movement’s breakout hit, “Like a G6,” but this playlist of her favorite tracks reveals the breadth of her influences. From the gauzy purr of R&B singer Banks on “Brain” to the infernal howl of Kurt Cobain on Nirvana’s “Heart Shaped Box,” this is an intense and eclectic set of songs, with the only throughline being an emphasis on pop songcraft and precision, an abiding focus that is evident in Dev’s own new material. -- Sam Chennault
These queens of the modern slow jam have been snaking their way from underground roots into mainstream consciousness like syrup dripping from a stack of candied pancakes, their mesmeric beats and honeyed vocals provoking slow-burning critical recognition. The R&B swagger and soul-drenched seduction of the genres 90s lodestars are all present and correct here, but this is foremost a playlist of unapologetic female power; palpable sexuality, personal mastery unleashed through siren calls, witchy domination car-pooling with low-rider soul. Here, Colombian native Kali Uchis filters Cali sun through a vintage lens, while Odd Futures Syd tha Kyd laces excruciatingly breathy vocals with funk-fueled, dirty bass; Beyoncé nods to her forebears with slick production and urgent harmonies, and scrappy Londoner Tirzah chops and screws her way through woozy heartbreak.
In May 2005, the Illinois quartet Fall Out Boy were just starting to get known outside of Midwestern emo circles when they took a candid backstage pic with two unlikely supporters: JAY Z and Beyoncé. Jay, then an executive at the Island Def Jam conglomerate that had just released the band’s latest album, was probably just schmoozing as a businessman. But that photo-op foreshadowed Fall Out Boy’s ambitions to reach outside of pop-punk, and mix rap, R&B, dance music, and classic rock into a sound that could provide a little something for everyone.Fall Out Boy’s early forays into hip-hop were self consciously awkward. Their next album, 2007’s Infinity On High, featured a cameo appearance by JAY Z, but he just blandly played hypeman on the opening track, “Thriller.” The video for the lead single, “This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race,” mockingly depicts the culture clash of Fall Out Boy recording with a hip-hop producer, and being “thrown out the hood” after they break someone’s 40 ounce. Kanye West appeared on a remix of the song, but he mostly just shrugged that he didn’t know what the song was about and riffed on the band’s tight jeans. But Infinity On High showed signs that the group wasn’t just clowning on their own tenuous grasp of black music: The Babyface-produced “I’m Like A Lawyer With The Way I’m Always Trying To Get You Off” was an early glimpse of Patrick Stump’s chops as an R&B crooner.Over the next few years, Fall Out Boy would work hip-hop into their sound more fluidly, utilizing Lil Wayne and Pharrell Williams to great effect on 2008’s Folie à Deux. But they also demonstrated that their taste in rock ranged far outside pop-punk and emo, seeking out Elvis Costello, Elton John, and Courtney Love for collaborations. They wrote their own cheeky Christmas song, “Yule Shoot Your Eye Out,” and their cover sources ranged from Michael Jackson to Disney’s The Jungle Book.During an extended hiatus in the early 2010s, the members of Fall Out Boy moved onto side projects that illustrated their far-ranging influences. Patrick Stump’s 2011 solo album, Soul Punk, was full of lo-fi homages to Prince; bassist Pete Wentz united with future pop star Bebe Rexha for the dancey duo Black Cards; and guitarist Joe Trohman and drummer Andy Hurley formed the metal band The Damned Things with members of Anthrax and Volbeat.Since reconvening in 2013, Fall Out Boy have put even more of a pop polish on their albums and have continued to stir together genres, making an entire rap remix album (2015’s Make America Psycho Again) and working with everyone from Demi Lovato to Missy Elliott. They even dashed off an EP of breakneck punk anthems produced by Ryan Adams, 2013’s PAX AM Days, just to prove they hadn’t abandoned their roots. Their seventh album, Mania, is set to continue diversifying Fall Out Boy’s résumé through collaborations with pop superstar Sia, folk singer Audra Mae, R&B producer Illangelo, and Afrobeat star Burna Boy. And it was preceded by a single, “Young And Menace,” that put the band’s sound in an EDM blender even while the lyrics nodded to Mötley Crüe’s Nikki Sixx—yet another defiant statement that Fall Out Boy will never stay in their lane.
Keyboardist Erik Deutschs sound has been described as "a gumbo of American music that touches in jazz, blues, pop, funk and dub," and with his swirling new album Falling Flowers, that statement is definitely true. Touching on psychedelic and atmospheric, Deutsch traverses the realm of what a keyboard can do. An artist in his own right, Deutsch has also been backing up artists like Citizen Cope, Norah Jones, Alice Smith, Rosanne Cash and Shooter Jennings as well as touring regularly with Charlie Hunter throughout his career. Obviously a master of his craft, its no surprise he made a playlist championing his fellow keyboardists. Check it out here or hit play above.Says Deutsch of his playlist, "Hammers, Strings, Stops, & Knobs is my tribute to some of history’s best ticklers, plunkers, pounders, and tweakers of all things related to the undisputed heavyweight champ of western music: the keyboard. Every one of these essential artists holds a special place in my heart as the uniqueness of each of their musical voices exist on a level reserved for the very best (not to mention that these are seriously dope tracks!) So kick back, relax, and allow a hefty dose of keyboard wizardry to brighten up your day."
Subscribe to the Spotify playlist right here.Let it never be forgotten that some of the greatest rock ‘n’ roll records in history were made on the most modest equipment, from Elvis Presley’s Sun sessions to The Beatles’ early albums. In the ‘90s, a new generation of rockers emerged who took that lesson to heart. For some, the lo-fi approach to indie rock may have been born of necessity and for others it might have been a more aesthetic choice, but whatever the impetus, bands like Pavement, Sebadoh, and Guided by Voices applied a sort of cinéma vérité sensibility to recording. Half-mumbled (or half-shouted) vocals, fuzzed-out guitar riffs, shambolic drums, spacious productions, and a seeming disinclination towards excessive rehearsal gave their records a raw, visceral quality that’s been at the heart of great rock records from the beginning.
All-star charity singles have a bad reputation that is entirely earned, but Lin-Manuel Mirandas “Almost Like Praying” (proceeds from which will benefit victims of Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico) is unexpectedly fire. The Hamilton playwright and Moana composer brought together everyone from Jennifer Lopez to Dominican icon Juan Luis Guerra for the impassioned, dembow-driven love song to Puerto Rico—and it bangs.Also worth a listen is “For Puerto Rico/Por Puerto Rico,” the Spotify playlist Miranda curated to tease the single, featuring all the artists involved. Spotify will make a donation based on the number of followers the playlist racks up, so its worth the click. As an added incentive, the songwriter has pledged that, if the playlist hits 50,000 followers, he will share an old photo of himself, dressed as Jennifer Lopez. (At the time of this writing, the count was over 70,000, but we’re still waiting for the big reveal.)Though the playlist comprises a mosaic of styles, its a smooth listen. Underground rapper Dessa and L.A. producer Trooko, both of whom also contributed to The Hamilton Mixtape, seem to fit right in next to Rubén Blades. And the transitions are softened by loads of Latin pop. The selections here might be a product of who answered the “Almost Like Praying” call, but the assortment of rap, pop, Afro-Latino rhythms and, yes, show tunes could also be seen as a reflection of Miranda himself: an American composer of (mostly) Puerto Rican descent, and a self-confessed fan of both hip-hop and Disney musicals.Either way, what comes together on the playlist is a soulful portrait of the Spanish-speaking Caribbean and its diaspora in the U.S. at this moment. If theres a commentary to be inferred, its that Puerto Rico is part of the U.S. in more than just name—its culture is woven into the very fabric of the United States, and were all connected to it.
She was a tragic character from the very beginning—Lana Del Rey was Born to Die. And yet, half a decade later, her story continues; her myth still grows. The pouty princess who once served as Hipster Runoffs lifeline has made her way to the (literal) top of Hollywood with a renewed Lust for Life. "Were the masters of our own fate," she coos with confidence on the albums title track. Its a well-worn cliché that sounds downright profound coming from a woman who has meticulously created and refined a persona that is far more than meets the black-lined eye.Lana is not the tortured seductress we first assumed her to be. No, she is a true and shrewd 21st-century star. She glorifies outdated stereotypes, while challenging outdated perspectives on sex, race, youth, beauty, power, fame, and the American dream. She then neatly fits these ideas into classic archetypal figures that come alive in noir soundscapes as silky and sumptuous as her bed sheets surely must be. Here, we break down Lana Del Rey into her four most distinct roles and unpack the influences behind them.THE FEMME FATALE
Lana got plenty of heat back in 2014 for telling The Fader, "The issue of feminism is just not an interesting concept." The fact that she opens a song with a line like "my pussy tastes like Pepsi Cola" doesnt help her cause, but shes hardly proven to be a powerless woman. In fact, Lana is arguably at her best in her most infamous role: the femme fatale. Her idea of feminism is using and abusing the power of femininity, not unlike strong sex symbols before her, from the slithery slyness of Nancy Sinatra and Brigitte Bardot to the overt eroticism of Madonna. Of course, the femme fatale can be as lethal to herself as she is to the opposite sex. When her own dangerous games of sex, drugs, and intrigue turn against her, self-awareness becomes crucial. When Lana admits that she wants "Money Power Glory" and that "prison isnt nothing to me" (on "Florida Kilos"), she takes on the gall and grit of proud bad girls Rihanna and Amy Winehouse.
Lana will break an endless amount of hearts, but will forever find true love elusive. She can lure the boys in but never quite let them go. She is the hopeless romantic, much like "Lust for Life" collaborator The Weeknd, who once said, "she is the girl in my music, and I am the guy in her music." On her big, symphonic ballads, shell sweep you up in every intimate detail with the pained quiver of Antony Hegarty, the vivid imagery of Leonard Cohen (whose "Chelsea Hotel #2" Lana has covered), and the brooding intensity of Chris Isaaks sultriest unrequited-love song, "Wicked Game." All the while, she associates youth and beauty with romance ("Will you still love me/ When Im no longer young and beautiful"), believing that none of these things will ever last—but it doesnt mean shell stop falling in love.
Behind every calculated move and every shade of cool is a sad girl "crying tears of gold." This is the fate of a tough temptress with a soft soul. Lana wallows in her sorrow as much as she does in her drugs, booze, and boys. Her most indulgent torch songs are draped in infinite sadness, starting with the obvious "Sad Girl," with its dark, dusky swing in the style of Twin Peaks enchantress Julee Cruise, or "Million Dollar Man," in which she echoes the most "Sullen Girl" of all, Fiona Apple. She even finds a kindred spirit in Mr. Lonely himself with her stunning cover of Bobby Vinton’s "Blue Velvet." Still, through all that misery, at least she knows that shes pretty when she cries.
Lana embodies the American dream as every bit of the illusion that it is. The American flag is her most provocative symbol, whether shes standing proudly before it (mischievously winking) or suggestively wrapping herself in its stars and stripes. She finds money, fame, and all that dream promises—but never happiness. She sings of Springsteen in "American"; portrays herself as both Marilyn Monroe and Jackie O in the video for "National Anthem"; and even gets political on "Coachella – Woodstock in My Mind." Her vision of America starts and ends on the West Coast. She paints the Golden State as both scandal and savior with hints of EMA and Courtney Love; tells sordid tales of "Guns and Roses" like only Guns N Roses could; and finds her fellow California "Freak" in video co-star Father John Misty. All together, she is America the Beautiful, the Cunning, the Miserable.
In terms of persona, Miguels is poised somewhere between Frank Oceans headcase auteur and Lana Del Reys sun-damaged SoCAl rock-star shtick. Its a bit strained, and his deceleration on Wildheart that hes "speeding through all those red lights...dreaming of a beautiful exit" ("a beautiful exit") or his desire to "fuck like were filming in the valley" ("the valley") feel a little edgy-by-the-numbers, but he generally has a great ears for songs ("coffee") that complement his airy falsetto, and he seems to understand how to reconcile his R&B roots with his more the more experimental sonic motifs of future soul. This playlist, part of Apples ongoing "guests" series, looks his guest appearances. Its great to hear the early collaborations with aughts LA indie rapper Blu.