My Dick, 3OH!3

3OH!3 remind me of being at junior school. In the late noughties they released three solid hits; 'Don't Trust Me', 'My First Kiss' and 'Starstrukk'. Listening back to them today I realise that 1)I was naive in Year Five and 2) 3OH!3 were disgustingly awesome. The band's interpretation of electro pop and frat boy rapping was gross out, knowingly misogynistic and perfectly dance worthy. 'Starstrukk' is maybe their standout single, featuring Katy Perry's autotuned chorus and mentions of "daisy dukes". The music is SO ignorant, bombastic and sexist- it is the theme song of America.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) 3OH!3 never stopped making music. The Colorado natives of Sean Foreman and Nathaniel Motte kept the vibes alive. As I was searching the web for anything to distract me from the horrors of Brexit, I found it. A new song by 3OH!3, but not just a new song- the greatest song of all time. 'My Dick' (taken off their new album Night Sports) is about a man with an uncomfortably large penis gloating about his endowment, there is little to dislike.

The song is composed of multiple pastiched styles of rapping, from a Mockney accent, Sir Mixalot and Future. Every line is a loosely constructed simile discussing penile size, all with laughable hyperbole. (I sometimes question why I want to be a music journalist, moments like this restore my faith). The whole song is jaw droppingly sleazy, it makes me feel ashamed to be alive. However,'My Dick's slicing EDM beat is fantastic and would be at home on any Diplo album.

The chorus restores my belief in songwriting and simplicity;
"Everytime I look at my dick I'm like holy shit that's a big dick! And everytime I look at your dick I'm like holy shit that's a small dick!"
3OH!3 never left puberty, they are still sat at the back of the class belting out non sensical abuse at the nerds. They are the ones who manage to boast about the size of their penis, but inadvertently make it known they look across at you in the urinals. Bless them.

"No Indie, just House mate" Has music died?

About 15 geezers are stood at the end of the garden at a house party and the question is suddenly asked; “alright who’s going on the aux?”. Eyes dart around the circle as people excuse themselves due to stingy data packages, as someone pipes up that they have a “fire soundcloud”. He is coaxed to plug in, and his fate is sealed by the words “No Indie, just House mate”.

It has been a long time since the band were cool in the UK. You search the charts and you hear bland pop stars, faceless Tropical House DJs and Atlanta Trap. The masses believe that guitar music hit its peak in 2007 with Arctic Monkey’s ‘Favourite Worst Nightmare’ and that anything after that really cannot be beaten. Guitars aren’t cool and nor are bands, don’t think of playing anything other than Mr Brightside. For most, indie music should remain on the soundtrack of The Inbetweeners and for teenagers that spend their days in British Heart Foundation and evenings on Tumblr. The modern Brit teenager wants to spend their weekends huffing Nos bought on Amazon, not examining the relationship between Peter Doherty and Carl Barat.

Dance music is cool. Dance music is really cool. Although always a subcultural stronghold in the UK, within the past five years we have witnessed a shift in musical mindset. The default used to be guitars, now everyone wants to be shuffling. This Summer, festival goers will not be able to avoid any genre of dance, whether it be House, DnB, Garage or anything in-between- it is everywhere. The size of this year’s Culture Clash held at the O2 just goes to prove that there is a huge market for dance music. The uniform has been set; Nike TNs, shotting bags and something from Basement- and people are following it. E is on the rise, and so are the amount of Brittish kids skanking.

Indie isn’t dead. People may not want them at their parties, but that isn’t stopping them from popping up everywhere. From the all out synth//guitar mess of Yak, the melodic bop of The Magic Gang and the Reading based swoon of Sundara Karma- there is something special just waiting to go supersonic. It isn’t just the small bands that are paving the way for an indie resurgence, the torchbearers may come from the most unlikely of Manchester bands. 18 months ago I would have scoffed at anyone who claimed that The 1975 were anything but crap. But when you listen to their new album, watch their live shows and weigh up Matt Healy as a true indie hero. Maybe, just maybe they have the clout to knock dance music of their sweaty, streetwear podium. 

An Ode To Tonic

Or The Existentialism Surrounding The Great British Night Out
 

It is no longer Friday night but Saturday morning and technically my night still hasn’t begun. Our plan was to go to ‘Fever & Boutique’, a new club based off the successful ‘Moo Moos’ chain- the nearest one being a £4 train journey away in Fleet. The Facebook description was soberly post-ironic, promising retro chic and chart hits. I hate retro chic and chart hits, so obviously I wanted to go.

Due to the predictability of the human race, every non-married person in Basingstoke also wanted to get in. We all queued desperately for entry that would cost us £3.  It was like being at Thorpe Park. But at the end of it I would not get to ride on Europe’s fastest rollercoaster, I would be at ‘Fever & Boutique’. I begin to loathe myself more so than I already do, I complain to my friends who in return complain to me. We all begin to feel fulfilled through our complaining, this is the Great British Night Out.

A fork is put in the road and an ultimatum is made by someone probably too drunk to remember why he or she said it “ten more minutes, if we aren’t in then we’ll go Tonic”. We wait three and a half minutes and leave the stationary queue of every non-married person in Basingstoke to walk around 100 metres to ‘Tonic’. We are cold and losing our buzz from the pre-drink at Spoons, anything indoors is looking like a positive.

‘Tonic’ used to be the only nightclub in Basingstoke. Therefore there was no actual need for ‘Tonic’ to do anything more than just exist. It has two levels, the ground floor is mainly just a bar with some soft seating and upstairs is the dance floor with another two bars. Rene Descartes believed that “I think therefore I am”, the philosophy lives on as “I sell Jagerbombs for £3 therefore I am”. The design has no flaws; it works almost as a Socialist testament to functionality. The group I am with begin to grow anxious and some threaten to go to Reading to experiment with something more salubrious. They stay.

Like the cathartic trend of ‘indieamnesty’, ‘Tonic’ stinks of the early 2000s. A projection screen hangs at one end of the dance floor with drinks offers produced on Powerpoint with a penchant for garish word art. The DJ I can only assume was the father of someone I went to junior school with. Dance music is an ever evolving genre and as EDM falls into a neatly dug grave, teenagers are reverting back to Garage, House and Drum and Bass. On the playlist tonight was what I can hear Gregg James play at midday on Radio One. ‘Tonic’ is not a good place for listening or dancing to music.

“I don’t know why I’m even complaining, I love Tonic” come out of someone’s mouth I was standing next to. I didn’t love ‘Tonic’, nor did I love it in the way that I love Frozen as an 18-year-old male. There was no ironic passion, but how could I complain either? I had made a series of ugly decisions that got me to this point of dancing to Sean Paul. Was this me being masochistic? Did I actually want to have a bad time? Or was this ‘Tonic’s plan? Make everyone have a bad time, to make everyon realise what really matters is the people who surround you daily.

Perhaps that euphoric feeling that The Great British Night Out aims to capture doesn’t come from your friend from Media’s trip to ‘Sketch’, or the Snaphat story of a wide eyed girl at a wavy garms rave. Maybe The Great British Night Out is standing on the dance floor listening to Sean Paul and wanting to die.

Searching For Frank

The art of the long awaited ‘next album’

It has been a long time since Frank Ocean released his seminal ‘Channel orange’, an album that rocketed the R&B singer to fame, bagging him two Grammys and a loyal fan base desperate for new material. A few tracks have been released over the four years in which the singer has gone AWOL with little more than a raised eyebrow. With news from Ocean’s producer that the album could arrive within just a few weeks, I try to work out whether people still care when you’ve been gone for what seems like a lifetime.

 Jamie T fell off the face of the earth by 2010. The promising young indie/rap outfit seemed to be only getting better and better. Jamie T provided a voice to a new generation of teenagers that had grown up with The Libertines and Eminem, a British voice. The promise floated away with radio silence, people waited hesitantly for a third album then shrugged their shoulders and began to look for something new. Jamie returned in 2014 with ‘Carry On The Grudge’ with an NME cover, a few festival appearances and 12 pretty good songs. His last post was at his last public appearance at Reading Festival. By that point most of his fans had already shrugged and wandered away to find something new.

Although King Krule wasn’t gone for long, the lack of public appearances post ‘6 Feet Beneath The Moon’ completed his ‘coolest kid on the earth’ image. Perhaps it was his Peckham roots or the ginger’s love for rap but out of seemingly nowhere a generation of street culture kids began to listen to Krule, mixing the bluesy maximalist beats with skateboarding and streetwear. The album became a classic for those within the cities and the indie kids from the suburbs. For the indie kids, Mac DeMarco filled the hole that King Krule left with Canadian goof. The street culture that grew with King Krule either left to powder their noses or waited for the song maker to release something new. The album came in 2015, but not under the guise of King Krule- instead the Peckham local stuck with his birth name Archy Marshall for ‘A New Place 2 Drown’ and put down the guitar and picked up the sampler. The album was a low key beauty lost in the hype of Christmas and 2016. Marshall is performing mainly under the name ‘Edgar The Breathtaker’ with contemporaries such as Jamie Isaacs. Perhaps his silence is a hatred of publicity- or a desire to remain truly in the peripheral.

Last known image of Ocean, if found please return to the recording studio

Perhaps Dr Dre is the living, breathing proof that everyone stops caring when you delay an album for too long. Detox was the album that never became, a few previews such as the Eminem featuring ‘I Need A Doctor’ were released but the infamous finale to the G-Funk trilogy never came. Dre concentrated on the business affairs of music, making the headphone a sought after commodity. Dre released his first full length LP to coincide with his 2016 biopic ‘Straight Outta Compton’. The excitement existed until the think pieces came rolling in, unsurprisingly slating Dre for his sexist lyrics. An apology was released, people shrugged and got back to work. Dr Dre is a rap dinosaur, a reminder of the good old days, but also an unsightly reminder of what the old days were like for women.

The world doesn’t look promising for Frank Ocean, every act that has resurfaced from the wilderness in the past few years have been wrought with problems and lack of success. The only beacon of hope comes from an artist who left on top of the world, only to return an even bigger star. Adele’s comeback has been meteoric, ‘25’ has sold more than any artist in history and her 150 date world tour is completely sold out. There isn’t a singer bigger than Adele, she vanished and came back just like Frank Ocean could. However, Adele didn’t play with our expectations. We knew that she was off spending cash and having children in her downtime. Every other month we are told that ‘Channel orange’ 2.0 could be hitting shelves, yet search ‘frank ocean’ on twitter and you’ll see heartbroken teens waiting impatiently. Frank Ocean may excellent, but his constant game playing and stalling is making people bored.

The 1975, I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it, Review

There was a time when The 1975 were horrifically uncool, their debut album was a successful indie crossover with a faux edge and little credibility. After multiple cryptic messages left on social media many thought the band had burnt itself out. Instead this was a rebirth, and this album Healy and the boys are in splendid Technicolor.

The first single divided opinion like most of The 1975’s work, ‘Love Me’ is an infectious coked up attack on pop culture. It was impressive and danceable, a turn in a completely new direction. ‘UGH!’ and ‘The Sound’ followed, each cheesier than the next, the latter sounding perfectly placed if released by PC Music. The new album, laboriously called 'I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it’ could have easily been binned as an overly ambitious vanity project by a band sitting on the wrong side of pretentious. However, despite the naysayers, The 1975 have managed to create a stunner of a second album.

‘I like it when you sleep…’ sits somewhere between millennial kitsch and soulful atmospheric indie. It is something of a heavy load at points, you’ll need well over an hour to listen front to back but for the most part that is time well spent. In terms of sound ‘I like it when you sleep…’ changes almost every track, a feat in itself for the Manchester band.

The two lead singles ‘Love Me’ and ‘UGH!’ slap you in the face with feel good pop, demanding you to listen, playing with gender roles and distortion. ‘A Change Of Heart’ is a sweet seemingly autobiographical slow jam, with Matt Healy asking whether he is too old to be smoking weed and talking about a partner popping a pic of her quinoa on instagram. A lot of the songs on ‘I like it when you sleep…’ are silly, yet the way that Healy plays with lyrics and imagery tricks you into thinking that you are actually listening to something rather clever.

Instrumentals such as ‘Please Be Naked’, ‘Lostmyhead’ and the title track pull the album together. Each with a distinct emotion they feel well composed and stand out within such a massive album. ‘Loving Someone’ sits in the middle of the album, with huge similarities to The 1975’s first album but it experiments with modern electro-pop with great success. The closing few songs of the album drag in comparison to the energy of the first half, however I cannot think of any band ambitious enough to provide seventeen songs on a second album.

The 1975 are the product of when conceptual meets pop. Like any great artist they are constantly evolving both sonically and visually. The dreamy pink and white aesthetic throughout all their videos and artwork is like candy for their Tumblr and Instagram obsessed fans. Their resurrection could have gone two ways and maybe it is genuine skill or blind luck from The 1975, but this bet has paid off.

The Rift

One of the greatest things I have read on the subject of music and feminism was by Jessica Hopper. In her article for Punk Planet in 2003 she wrote about the“rift within, a struggle of how much you can ignore just because you like the music” when it comes to treatment of women in songs.

The truth is we let musicians say what they want and how they want in their songs. We consistently allow ‘art’ as a pass for rape fantasies, homophobia and misogyny. We listen, we tut, we consume, we listen, we tut, we consume. It is all ‘art’. I am in no way advocating banning artists for misogyny or wanting censorship. We need to question the integrity of a person, not the artist as to why they have chosen to use their lyrics.

This issue of misogyny is prevalent throughout most genres, yet for myself there seems to be a clear example of why we must take a step back and question taste.

Kanye West paints himself as music’s enfant terrible. West proudly gives the middle finger to big business yet he proudly sits as the largest musician of Universal’s rostra. A punk attitude swathed in consumerist needs, he cries that he is misunderstood and ignored by the mainstream yet is married to one of the most ubiquitous humans on this earth. His arrogance knows no bounds, last Glastonbury he titled himself as ‘the greatest rockstar in the world’, but now he titles himself “50% more influential than any other human being in the history of the planet”.

These are big words, they are of course ridiculous words with no standing or support. In no way do I mean to hate on Kanye West but surely we should question him as a person. Surely we should question the person that calls the producer of ‘The Wall’ by Pink Floyd a “nobody”. Firstly we should question the lyrics of a 38-year-old man on an album made in 2016.

“I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex

why?

I made that bitch famous”

Kanye West is of course referring to Taylor Swift, a 26-year-old pop star with 10 Grammys to her name and also a cool $200,000,000. He infers that via his outrageous stunt, invading her at the VMAs in 2009 he made her famous. Although personally not a fan of Taylor Swift, my music knowledge serves me correctly that Taylor Swift became famous due to the release of infectious pop/country songs not a single awards evening.

The bland arrogance is of course not the most concerning issue with this single line in an album of derogatory slurs. It is the assertion that

1)   Kanye West, a married man with two children wants to sleep with a woman ten years younger than him (the age difference is not a huge issue, but we can all catch what I mean)

2)   For this to be a consensual act Taylor Swift must agree to it, Kanye answers this is due to her wanting to thank him for making her ‘famous’.

3)   The B word.

The line may seem funny and yes ‘Famous’ has a great hook and features Rihanna sounding magnificent but this line is like a knife in a playground. Rap and other genres call women ‘bitches’ almost as an okay label. Kanye West even went as far as calling it endearing in his tweets.

4th Bitch is an endearing term in hip hop like the word Nigga

— KANYE WEST (@kanyewest) 12 February 2016

Feminism 101 can teach you that comparing any gender to an animal in such way that all men are ‘dogs’ and all women are ‘bitches’ is utterly wrong. I ask myself as I listen to the thirty second previews of ‘The Life Of Pablo’ (I will not pay for TIDAL) am I comfortable? Not only as a feminist, but as a music fan. The biggest artist of my generation STILL promotes misogyny. The rift for me grows and grows.

2015 VERSUS

This year has been all about head to heads. Taylor Swift versus Apple, Adele versus Damon Albarn, Azealia Banks versus security guards and Jeremy Corbyn versus the right wing media. So instead of doing a boring list of my favourite albums of the year (because honestly I have no right to this opinion apart from an internet connection) I have decided to pit the 'best' albums for each 'genre' against one another and see who comes out top.

Best Indie
‘HAPPY PEOPLE’ VERSUS ‘MOTHERS’

Peace have had their biggest year in 2015. Although releasing a majority of their pop-ified singles in 2014, ‘Happy People’ was released in February of this year to a gleefully growing loyal fan base. The album was a series of pastiches to indie’s past, with musical references varying from The Pet Shop Boys, Oasis and Nirvana. Its end result was a glitter tipped suicide note, Harrison Koisser’s introspective and anxious lyrics contrasted the soaring guitar fills and lavish overtures. Almost as good as the first album.

Swim Deep’s ‘Mothers’ felt like a long time coming, but in that space the band have gained a member in James Balmont and a whole new sound. Recording in Brussels, Swim Deep swapped their indie dream-pop for heavy psychedelia and acid house. Listening to the album is sometimes a heavy load, songs such as Fueiho Boogie clock in at 8 minutes, but never is there a dull moment. The huge change in style was welcoming, capturing the futuristic zeitgeist of 2015 perfectly without sounding pretentious. Tunes such as ‘To My Brother’ and ‘Namaste’ sound fresh, weird and perfectly cool.

WINNER- PEACE

Best Rock
‘UNDERTOW’ VERSUS ‘ARE YOU SATISFIED?’ 

Drenge have yet to make a bad song, period. Their stunning self-titled debut was shockingly good with sludge filled riffs and angsty lyrics about love and murder. The Loveless brothers (and extra member Rob Graham) released ‘Undertow’ in April 2015 to huge critical acclaim. The album feels loosely like a car chase, lead single ‘We Can Do What We Want’ waxes lyrical about Bonnie and Clyde and its front cover is a deserted getaway car. ‘Undertow’ is a beautifully constructed LP, gentler and more progressive but still with a grunge edge. Fast and menacing, ‘Undertow’ doesn’t disappoint.

Slaves have been around for a while, but their debut album ‘Are You Satisfied?’ has launched them into the stratosphere. Isaac and Laurie’s individual character, live performance and giddy punk revivalism have set themselves as a standout band of 2015. The album itself isn’t always in fifth gear, the comical title track is an acoustic ballad introducing the main theme of the album- complacency. There have been little records in 2015 that make you want to get up and do something more than ‘Are You Satisfied?’, the snarling power of ‘The Hunter’ and dizzyingly deathly ‘Sockets’ are just some of the screamers that have made Slaves’ a firm favourite of the UK youth.

WINNER-DRENGE

Best Rap
‘INTEGRITY>’ VERUS ‘TO PIMP A BUTTERFLY’

Skepta may be the unarguable trailblazer of Grime across the UK and the world but is definitely a singles man. The real Grime hero of 2015 is his younger brother Jamie Adenuga, better known as JME. Although JME has been around for years, 2015 was when he took UK youth by storm with his album ‘Integrity>’. A fiery piece of work composed of bombastic beats and thought out furious lyrics. The intensity is kept at 100 from the dominating ’96 F**Kries’ to troll themed ‘Don’t @ Me’, JME’s mind boggling speed and cultural references never tire. ‘Integrity>’ placed JME as one of the most important MCs in the UK, not to forget his tweets are hilarious and he popularised the ‘swegway’.

Kendrick Lamar won this year, big time. Rubbing shoulders with his NWA heroes and Taylor Swift, bagging two Grammys and then eleven nominations and slaying Reading Festival. However, Lamar’s biggest achievement is probably his new album ‘To Pimp A Butterfly’. The sprawling, funk influenced epic has been celebrated as a modern masterpiece by fans and journalists. The album is amazing and intense, a cathartic experience finishing off with a metaphysical interview with the late Tupac Shakur. The significance of ‘To Pimp A Butterfly’ transcended its streams and purchases, adventitiously Lamar became the political poster boy for a new generation of socially conscience rappers. To the point that members of The Million Man march chanted ‘Alright’, a Black Power movement organised by the NOI.  

WINNER-KENDRICK LAMAR

Best Song
‘LOVE ME’ VERSUS ‘HOTLINE BLING’

The 1975 are kinda cool but also kinda crap because their fans are kinda crap. Drake is kinda cool but also kinda crap because everyone loves Drake for the wrong reasons. The 1975 have reinvented themselves as trippy 80s pop stars that take too many drugs. Drake has reinvented himself as a cutesy 80s RnB crooner that dances poorly. ‘Love Me’ is an absolute indie banger reminding us of the good times. ‘Hotline Bling’ is an absolute pop banger reminding us of that one ex who is better without us. ‘Love Me’ has a music video that includes Matt Healy snogging a cardboard Haz Styles. ‘Hotline Bling’ has the ultimate meme-able dad dancing music video. Drake has to win, because that’s all Drake can do in 2015, just keep on winning.

WINNER-DRAKE

Best Dance
‘IN COLOUR’ VERSUS NO ONE

It has been three years since The xx released their last record and since then the world has changed. Miley Cyrus was a pop star has been with really nice hair, in 2015 she is a pop culture surrealist with far less hair and more strap ons. To bridge the gap between Coexist and the imminent third album, quietest member Jamie Smith (also known as Jamie kiss kiss) released the ultimate Summer album with ‘In Colour’. Although difficult to stand out in a world obsessed with dance music, Jamie xx has managed to create something fresh and full of transcendent floorfillers using the dirtiest bass and the most leftfield samples. Songs such as the Death Star sized ‘Gosh’ and the arty love song of ‘Girl’ are gems in the crown of ‘In Colour’. It’s good to remember that ‘In Colour’ is the only song of 2015 that has Young Thug using a simile to compare intercourse with a pram.

There are no dance records that compared in 2015, maybe ‘Mutant’ by Arca but that had no Young Thug so was disqualified.

WINNER-JAMIE XX

Biggest Twat
MARTIN SHRKELI VERUS DAVID CAMERON

This has nothing to do with music but sometimes one has to be a bit political because that’s quite zeitgeist-y. Martin Shrkeli and David Cameron have a lot in common. Both of them are disliked by swathes of the country for their dodgy rhetoric and are consistently smug. Shrkeli was the pharmaceutical giant who thought it would be alright and not satanic to increase the price of an AIDS drug by 5000%, and then buy the only copy of a Wu-Tang album. Cameron is an ex Bullingdon Club member who now runs the United Kingdom. In 2015 he began a war with an ideology that could threaten the lives of thousands of innocent Syrians, called those who thought that beginning the war ‘terrorist sympathisers’, allowed his second in command to effectively make poorer people poorer and was alleged to have had sex with a pig. Recently Martin Shrkeli received karmic retribution for his money hungry methods, David Cameron therefore wins by default. Nice one Dave x.

WINNER-DAVID CAMERON