Michael's Cut

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My summer has been busy and exhausting – but it’s also exceeded my brat expectations, I’ll admit. Hangovers spent flipping seven or more tables, trashed front seats cleaned the next day or two, and an alarm set to catch the Sunday sunrise at a beach at which I always fell asleep. Simultaneously, I juggled moving mattresses in and out of storage at 7 a.m., all the while hosting family and friends at the new apartment that can barely fit our futon couch. There’s a term I can’t remember as I’m writing this, but it deals with anxiety after leaving your old home for a new one. As anyone would feel, I grappled these overwhelming feelings the best I could: I went out and enjoyed myself, maybe a bit too much. Memories with both old and newlyfound friends became the norm this season.

Last treatise, I discussed my blog goals. Two articles a month seemed easy until you account for the unpredictable nature of your personal life. I refuse to make excuses, but I must forgive myself at times when I couldn’t complete my goals. Writing takes time; writing something you like takes time and a smoke break, especially when you don’t make an income from it. I made a goal to be a TikTok content creator through posting music content at least twice a week, which I fell behind with because of constantly working, but we’re closing the gap right now. Some things in my personal life must change so I’ve more time to write, such as going out every weekend (ughh). I should also integrate my TikTok videos on here as well. Something about putting all my links on one site, but I’ll get to all this shit soon, I promise.

“Black Flag Freestyle” – Denzel Curry

An apparition approached the boy in an alleyway thinning to membrane. He screamed for a hand, yet no one came downstairs to help, not a phone call dialed to the police. Keyboards echo down to the scene and pick up the remains of what once was alive. Crows squawk at the sight of exposed flesh, slowly camouflaging with nearby plastic bags. Mild trap beats strike an alarm, but just as Curry nonchalantly sticks to one flow, nobody pays mind to the ordeal. A murder just happened, and we’re pacing to hop onto the next train. It’s no wonder why the Carol City rapper relaxes with panache; it’s just expected he’s out here for blood. Shout out to That Mexican OT for not only maintaining the atmosphere but intensifying the dark attitude invigorating “Black Flag Freestyle.” 

“Check” – FLO

My first impression: I replayed the first verse five times. The beat drop into a gorgeous Atlanta bass rhythm tickled my spine, the sparks you get from slipping down a slide. Melodies frothy enough to rival the texture of chocolate mousse. And as always, Destiny’s Child influences the trio’s catalog, though with each past single, the sleeve loosens up. We’re not trying to build the next ‘90s hit single; rather, we’re exploding the contemporary scene with visions from the tried and true, dashing to the dance floor and bringing back what club culture should be. Simultaneously, we’re reminding people the differentials between artist, singer, and performer. And if you’re all three, then you’re really the whole package, and the women here own it (dare I write times three).

“Desire” – Tove Lo & SG Lewis

The lights dimmed once 10:00 p.m. clocked in. The crowd appeared outside the venue, a line of black and white attires formed, some outfits frizzled, others pressed to a crisp felt. A small batch of enthusiasts entered with wristbands and eye bags disguised as 9-5 stress. There, one man mustered bravery through his moves, hips swung against a sonic layer full of snares and grooves. The DJ saw his claim, and he raised the tempo into a glacial-melting haste, the atoms in the air panting until vapor rises from the floor. He reached the girl with the Disney-shaped curls, whom he invited her to join in his trance. “Desire” lives in all the moments of liquid courage, of synth rises and plastic cups crushed from beater shoes. It’s tears transformed into sweat, provided by the free water station near the bar counter edge. 

“Get at Me” – DJ Quik

Community only goes as far as your ambitions materialize. On “Get at Me,” DJ Quik snipes back at his former friends / bandmates for tarnishing his name after his breakthrough. Stardom makes a bitch turn dirty, he observes in them: “You need to go brush your teeth / and change ya drawers and change ya sheets,” Quik spills as he rides the summery bassline. Turntables scratch up the chorus, vacant enough for the grooves and melodies to fill, all easy-going elements that amplify Quik’s bravado with simplicity. Prosaic lyrics keep his audience knowing the fine print; crabs in a bucket’ll keep you from your destined greatness.

“Getting No Sleep” – Tinashe

The sister track to Kelela’s “Contact,” Tinashe’s “Getting No Sleep” takes inspiration of after-hours nightclubs and sleepovers where you don’t actually sleep. Simplicity runs smoothly like an emerald; just a smidge of excitement from her voice keeps you enthralled in her itinerary. Diamonds glimmer from the floor up to the chandelier, with a winky face notifying your partner what’s gonna happen next. Baguette-cut rings left on the table once he arrives in his black Audi S4. The curtains close, but there’s another show that must go on.

“Hand on Me” – Nourished by Time

Marcus Brown’s desire for security breeds nervous dance incisions left unhealed on “Hand on Me,” the lead single off Catching Chickens. The buildup takes notice of this warped perception. On the outside, the world blushes with greenery, but we live in a subconscious where our vision’s marked by haze and an unreciprocated love language. A box of chocolates doesn’t mean the same to someone who needs a kiss on the cheek or an affirmative “everything’s okay.” So into the gutter Nourished by Time treks, this time proceeding with loose jeans and a linen shirt that hasn’t been ironed in weeks. Something similar happens with the music: synthesizers lost in the purple highlights, vocal runs following the currents, the ebb and flow of all life melting with a burning apprehension.

“I Thought” – Brandy

At one point in her career, Brandy was truly down to get a little weird. Balladries aside, Full Moon collided with the angular jolts from the underground club scene. I’m talking about the likes of DJ Kool Hercs (breakbeat) and the Hyperdub record label sound (wonky and 2-step) integrating with mainstream pop and R&B to gift a piece of sonic futurism, creating some of my favorite songs in her catalog, spiraling in the tension (“All of Me”) while still coiling interest in other mid-tempo moments (“Apart”). All this being stated, “I Thought” contains none of these fusions. Rather, incredible harmonies perfectly balanced throughout the choruses, and she matches stress as executive producer Rodney Jerkins tugs the basses and drums. A highlight of my ‘00s childhood returning to my now adult years.

“Portrait of a Dead Girl” – The Last Dinner Party

I reviewed Prelude of Ecstasy months ago, with a handful of songs affixed to my mind like tar and feather. “Portrait of a Dead Girl” was the anomaly, a theatrical progressive pop confection slithered into my playlist favorites and hasn’t left since my discovery. The first verse erects a tapestry of splashing watercolor, a preparation for possible bludgeons. Women abused from their cigarette-smelling husbands, with their mistress laying under the sheets. There must be a way out: “Give me the strength,” Abigail Morris repeats as the members uprise to overflow every corner of the cell. Chain links unbound, door knob unlocked. An evasion from death calls the men on the chase, but by then, the paintings fade into history, reveling in the new historical context of queer women ruling their own self-agency.

“Rewind” – Charli XCX

When “Rewind” plays, a supercut of high school flashes: the times when I fell asleep in Marine Biology class, or when I attempted to skip school during my T.A. period (sorry, Mrs. Sagucio). Cherry pick the fun moments, and you’re left with the sugar rushes of Jolly Ranchers from the administration office. But, of course, time lingers and reveals the wrinkles from the student loans and hot flashes all because you can’t fix the air conditioner. Charli’s own struggles seek remedy through her mixtape days in hopes of reliving the former glory of a young girl from Essex, all while the beat contorts to a mildly unkempt electro-clash medium.

“Russian Roulette” – Porter Robinson

Serenading the ocean with his double neck guitar, his back against the crowd, Porter Robinson publicizes his feel-good brand until the smiles fragment to chemical peels. The waves still to a clear image, outlining a hermit without a shell in which to dwell. Joyous synths buzz to yellow skies fading into the smog, the “gambling with your life” phenomenon, as Robinson would call it. Inhaling all these fumes become second nature, a mindset prolonged as his depression indents his cerebrum. But stripped away from his usual electronic roots, a quiet bridge reminisces the joys in his life: his cat, his dad, the snow. He wants to see them again, again, and again. The crescendo installs the “cliche” chord progression, the marvelous way of reminiscing humanity’s beauty, as if to make this another platitude. The Taylor Swift-level superstar comes to terms that life might be worth more than the sour comments plaguing internet forums – and more importantly, the biological cables programming you to see yourself in one way.

“SELFISH” – Tommy Richman

“MILLION DOLLAR BABY” may’ve propelled steam surrounding the Virginian star, with his squeaky falsettos and spaced-out basslines. However, a funky homage to Prince via “SELFISH” truly left me quenched for the rest of his vault. Funk rejoices by the first bass guitar note, and Richman’s falsetto reaches a buzz you must entertain. We then delve into that Minneapolis sound at the bridge, shaking up the romance like popcorn made for your favorite rom-com premiere. “‘Cause I’m so lonely” recorded at the top of his lungs, Richman stays on top of his game even when we aren’t noticing the details. If I could have a straw, I would sip on whatever rhythm he blends into his drink. It must mean something auspicious’ inevitable, right? 

“Smile for Me” – Raveena

An abundance of nectarines harvested during the early stages of summer, where a bundle of hair and ribbons brushes against the tall grass, and a small boy runs with the horses to chase her down in a game of tag. Parents called out dinner to the grasslands. A peep, nay, a rustle blew cover, and the extracurriculars were ceased, like the sun gave out to eventide. “Smile for Me” scores everlasting love with childlike ethos, the tug-of-war against the devil’s deals to compromise purity. There’s not enough fighting in the world that can fracture a bond fortified in stone and embossing. Add your partner’s and your initials on a tree or locket, and you’ll see what I mean.

“Supernatural” – NewJeans

Aaliyah returns in the form of NewJeans’ referential new jack swing direction. “Supernatural” evokes the laidback nature of Age Ain’t Nothin’ But a Number: we’re all about Jordan high tops and cruising around the city with your childhood best friends. Production from Pharrell Williams showcases the girls unafraid to deep dive into their influences from the States. A quiet “c’mon” cues the metallic drum stings akin to a certain Rhythm Nation 1814 style. After all, this is music I grew up with; it’s only natural that I praise this song for exceeding its reference points, all while the band remains true to itself. Summery, subtle, and the girl next door, packaged in indica and Rum Raisin Revlon lip gloss.

“Touch the Sky” – Kanye West

Is it odd I feel like crying to this? It’s the soundtrack that cues when you finally made it, the bands secured in the safe, the fridge full of produce and every snack you wished for in your youth. Strong saxophone riffs coupled with crisp percussions make for a perfect landing for Kanye West; he manifests his prosperity with authority. It’s God calling him to explore his destined riches through his musical craft. Lupe Fiasco makes a later feature, exposing pen and paper to make some subtle wordplays and literary repetitions. Take good care of yourself, and if you’re looking for something more contemporary, give Joey Bada$$’ “Zipcodes” a listen.

“U Should Not Be Doing That” – Amyl and the Sniffers

You’re stuck in a relationship you don’t wanna be in, but also in a body that you’re learning to love. So while this piece of shit’s flying all over the world, he left you with a curse, brought to you by the words of the track’s unfortunate title. But Amy Taylor leads with gravel clanging from her throat and spunk falling onto her heels. Exhaustion reeks as much as the stench of single cover’s displayed piss. There’s nothing to fear, however. In fact, have a shoey! In standard punk fashion, brash guitars and a larger-than-life attitude do more than enough to get me jumping over the crowd. It’s just that simple.

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