LATE NIGHT. REVIEWS. FILM. MUSIC. TV.
The O’My’s Tomorrow is a low-stakes neo-soul album rife with tracks that don’t snap or pop, but instead warmly simmer and swirl around your brain. It’s the mark of a duo that have a crystal-clear idea of the music they want to make. This is ear-pleasing music – the soundtrack to a rainy Chicago day.
There’s a telling skit on Eminem’s new album Kamikaze. It’s his manager, Paul Rosenberg, warning him not to go through with an LP basically full of scathing disses. You can hear it in Rosenberg’s voice – he’s dead serious about it being a bad idea. And he’s right. The aggro-rap Kamikaze proves two things we already knew about late-career Eminem. One: he can rap. Two: he cannot write an actual rap song. This is an exhausting, borderline-embarrassing album. Should’ve listened to Paul, Em.
Blood Orange treads the same scattered, misty, non-linear paths as To Pimp A Butterfly-era Kendrick Lamar or latter-day D’Angelo on Negro Swan. Tracks lean and dart at weird angles. Sometimes it feels vexing and distant and you wish the focus narrowed. But most of the time, it’s beautiful kaleidoscopic chaos. It’s an album that feels refreshingly ambitious and unrestrained.
There’s a line on Slime Language that sums up Young Thug’s appeal better than any music nerd essay ever could. On the heavenly “Oh Yeah”, the track floats like a cloud while Thugga buries deep in his verse, his voice rising slightly higher with each bar. And then he squeals, somehow both elegantly and desperately, “send me nudes when I’m on the rooooad”. It’s absurd, douchy, slightly embarrassing and weirdly, weirdly romantic. If you hated him before, you’ll still hate him. But if you love the rapper who once said he would change his name to ‘SEX’, you get a bunch of these gloriously oddball moments.
THE MIDNIGHT SPECIAL 