Radio One 91FM

Every Carti release generates vigorous emotional responses in the online hip-hop world akin to an American election cycle. So I thought it’s best to play it safe and let MUSIC sit for a while before thinking about it. MUSIC has been out for a month now, the hate/hype cycle has died down and nuance can reign for this long-awaited album.

The evolution of Play-Station game consoles tracks quite well with the evolution in Playboi Carti’s originality and influence with each album release. Carti’s self-titled was weird, playful, colourful and full of simple glitchy trap beats (thank you Pierre Bourne) just as the PS1 had lovable, low-res, low-polygonal models and settings. Just as the PS2 escaped that lovable jank and flexed its graphical muscle, refining its stories and series, Die Lit revamped Carti’s style, as the Atlanta rapper went more experimental with his flows, the instrumentals were harsher/sugary. 

Die Lit bought Carti a lot of attention and unfortunately, due to rabid fans leaking all his music, Carti had to revamp his sound for 2020’s Whole Lotta Red (the PS3). This marked an era-defining pivot from fun and sometimes punky saccharine bassy trap to the synthy, gravely compressed stylings of rage music. After listening to MUSIC several painstaking times, it’s technically an evolution, just as the PS3 revolutionised 720p gaming and PS4 standardised 1080p. But a leap in graphics feels meaningless when art direction, character and consistency are either absent or subpar, which is pretty much how MUSIC plays out.

There’s a lot to like about MUSIC. Carti really dives into his trap R&B bag with tracks like RATHER LIE ft. The Weekend, FINE SHIT & BACKDOOR ft. Kendrick Lamar with beaucoup success. These tracks really showcase the versatility of Carti’s new strained, breathy style while his guests deliver shining performances. Much like a fly searching for a window, Lamar’s VV’s on your decolleté hook on BACKDOOR is still buzzing around my cranium.

Carti’s inclusion of Atlanta DJ Swamp Izzo to yell SWAMP IZZO and CARTI all over this thing is reminiscent of Beyonce sampling black queer figures on Renaissance for texture’s sake. Just as their confident disembodied voices would yell cunty or honey over some of the most vogue-inducing dance music you’ll ever hear, SWAMP IZZO ADDS A DEAFENING JE NE SAIS QUOI TO ANYTYHING CARTI SAYS, VERBAL OR OTHERWISE.

IZZO’s inclusion, although grating at times, bolsters the darker 70% of MUSIC. He effortlessly worms his way into the listeners brain on tracks like the Metro Boomin’ produced bling-era throwback RADAR, where Carti’s new strained and deep voices contrast with repeated bombastic ad-libds of SWAMP & CARTI in the foreground. It’s tracks like RADAR or the low-key, 808 heavy TOXIC (with Skepta) or the ear-splitting, bouncy and guitar-backed CRANK where the taringa feels most blessed. COCAINE NOSE with its over compressed synth line smothering this bizarre string sample with these overblown drum machine noises is what MUSIC should sound like – it’s a genuinely new Carti sound.

MUSIC’s main downfall comes from aimless songs, lacklustre guest performances, and a bloated tracklist/runtime. Who is listening to an hour 16 minutes, over 30 songs, of late-stage Carti? Well regrettably a great deal of people - the point remains, this thing is too long, and it wouldn’t have to be if there was any quality control. WE NEED ALL DA VIBES (ft. Young Thug & Ty Dolla $ign) should be on Thug’s 2019 LP So Much Fun, not here. The Carti-less Twin Trim sees nanged-up Lil Uzi Vert squander a cute beat, meanwhile JUMPIN has one Carti verse and Uzi dominating the lions share for no discernible reason.

If those songs were bad or unnecessary then what is CHARGE DEM HOES A FEE ft. Future & Travis Scott. These three are experts in their field, yet this song is so banal and tedious, the vocals are spaced badly, and it just goes onnnnnnnn. On TRIM Future has energy, yet here he’s just like moaning and grunting in autotune while Travis is literally wallpaper. In fact, Travis is wallpaper on all four songs he appears on. It’s bamboozling Carti didn’t include his acolytes and label signees Ken Carson and Destroy Lonely but can let Lil Uzi, Travis Scott and Future meander through nearly a third of the album.   

MUSIC is remarkable from an artist like Carti because it proves he isn’t a creature solely composed of hype just yet. He still has gas in the tank, even if the low-reserve light is blinking graciously. If you told anyone 10 years ago an album like MUSIC would be #1 and have its entire track list chart on the top 100, you’d be a laughingstock.  How an album as unappealing and strange (speaking in relative terms here mate) like MUSIC can pull that off is quite an accomplishment. Playboi Carti is experimenting with two things on MUSIC: what popular trap can sound like, and fan patience. Although his fans have forgiven the 5-year delay and numerous album release fake-outs, I cannot forgive Carti for putting out an album that, despite the praise, A-list guests, and glorious compression, feels like a flat tire when listened to as an album.

I have heard the gospel and its name is IVY…

As a newcomer to the Ōtepoti gig scene, I am cutting my teeth on new live venues often these days. This was my first experience with Errick’s in any capacity, and there were some negative rumblings about the venue passing my ears earlier in the day. Shortly after entering and taking in the scene that was set by a stage with upwards of twenty chairs for orchestra members, a friend said that ‘it [was] a shame that this is happening here and not in some grand church or something’.

By the end of the gig, IVY and the Dunedin Youth Orchestra had proven that any space can be a place of absolute reverence and awe, bordering on the holy, if the creative will is there to make it so.

At first, there was a palpable and slightly nervous anticipation from what was a sold-out crowd. It’s not every day you see a local band play with a full-strength orchestra behind them. And it was a youth orchestra. Dangerous territory, some might say.

One song in, and any fears that were out there in the audience were assuaged and then some. They could already feel the power of the thing that was about to wash over them, the moment in a band’s career they were about to experience alongside them. 

IVY are the real deal. It was entirely possible this sort of occasion would rattle them, the pressure of being the five lads in front of a collective of twenty would cause them to shrink and not flourish. Instead, they commanded the stage with a swagger, a love for the craft, and a healthy joie de vivre. 

Locked in would be underselling it. Every member entirely in service of the song, a collective triumph. Jesse’s vocals were undoubtedly immaculate, but to highlight any one element of the performance would be remiss of me, because there wasn’t a note out of place, literally or figuratively. 

And while the whole night could have been entirely about IVY ‘the band’, and in some sense, it was, the beauty of the event was that in another sense it wasn't just about IVY at all. For a solid hour on stage, this band was “IVY and the Dunedin Youth Orchestra”. One whole.

When the members were joining the stage, a few of us in the audience were lightly joking about the presence of the bassoon player, and what role he would play in the whole piece. In hindsight, he played as pivotal a role as any. Every single horn note, every single vibration of a string, every single rattle of an egg-shaker or ting of a triangle was crafted to service the sound. 

An absolute credit to the arrangement and composition of Maddy Parkins-Craig and Anthony Ritchie, and an equally great reflection on all of the young musicians on stage. 
A shout out is owed to the audio team at Errick’s too, as despite any misgivings I might have heard, they did an incredible job wrangling what was an immense amount of sound. 

By the end of the event, there was that pleasant sense of giddy shell-shock in the audience. Had we just witnessed the genesis of something? Time will tell for IVY, but after hearing the extra gravitas that the horns, strings, and pipes can lend to their songs, I don’t doubt they’ve just walked away with a plethora of inspiration for future music.

As I said on Radio One during the DPAG Late Breakfast the following day, I could ramble for hours about this gig. But it is best just to say I was totally floored. And I am now a believer.

There are some that say surf rock has had its day in Ōtepoti, but not if 4-piece outfit The Audio Visual Drop Kicks (nicknamed ‘The Kicks’, with adoration) have anything to say about it. Having kicked (pun intended) up a name for themselves within the student scene over the past couple of years, they booked in a classic Crown Hotel slot for their ‘Betterland’ debut-album release gig. Myself and Radio One leech Peter Barclay were ecstatic to head down to jump, sway, and sing along. 

Right on the dot of when he was supposed to be on stage, Dibs (the solo project of Caribou lead vocalist, Mario), casually sauntered in dressed in a baby pink zip-up jumper, matching pink and sky blue cargo pants, and an off-centered 2010s Justin Bieber-esk cap that read ‘Hi Haters’ in vintage cursive. Now that’s what I call a fit. On stage, he dives straight into a thrashy cover of Misserlou with only drums to accompany his distorted guitar tone. His songs and covers move from fast-paced bangers to slower lo-fi ballads, and then bounce back with more loose yet punchy original tracks. The whole time I'm feeling like I'm watching an early Surf Curse set. Dibs yells into the mic, and even though I had zero clue what he was saying (I think one of the songs was about buying a mattress), his passion was magnetic. Raw is the word to describe this act, but it’s to their advantage. It’s playful. It’s fun. It’s got energy coming out of its Converse high-tops. It doesn’t give a toss if you like it or not, and it definitely makes people move. 

Purple Dog is the second opener. They’re a band that has solidified their spot in the current student scene, bringing more of a (welcomed) pop-oriented taste to the landscape. It’s the kind of music that promotes dancing, with lead singer Imogen’s sunny-side-up vocals beautifully reminiscent of 2014 indie-pop. Singing lead without an instrument can be awkward, and possessing an engaging stage presence is as much of a talent as ripping a mean guitar solo. But there’s no sign of awkwardness when Imogen twirls around on stage, reaching her hand out to the audience with an infectious smile across her face - her microphone a tool to harness rather than something to be afraid of. Covers of Go Your Own Way, Message In A Bottle, and Just Like Heaven go down a treat with the crowd. But it’s their own single Cricket Enthusiast at the end of their set that really brings down the house. 

This is the last stop on their album release tour for AVDK, and they kick (hah) off this show with great energy. Kaia’s vocals are confident and strong. Drummer Shaarav is locked-in behind the kit, leaning forward into the music and rapid with the sticks. Bassist Jeremy balances vocals and bass, still keeping up an enigmatic presence for both. Lead Guitarist George closes his eyes and grooves along, truly in touch with his own playing and appearing cool as a cucumber on-stage - he is captivating guitarist to watch, with such sudden yet precise movements. If you’re as much of an avid enjoyer of Surf Rock as I am, you can’t go wrong with this act - the riffs, the reverb, the builds; all the hallmarks of the genre during its 2010s-revival period are present in spades across their album. 

During a slower track (Blue Orchids), we’re encouraged by the band to find someone to slow dance with. A line of us link arms, swaying along as the song builds, and thrashing our heads when it culminates into an almost Stone Roses reminiscent third act. When they break for a re-tune, Jeremy plays Simon Says with the audience - clap, hand on head, “dance to this next one, now take two big steps forward”. Kaia teases more fun games - is this a gig or a birthday party? Either way, I'm into it. The creative crowd interaction is kept up, we’re told to let loose and, “who knows where we’ll end up!” (Peter turns eagerly towards me: ‘Caro?’) The band ends on a cover of Boys In The Better Land which gets everyone jumping one last time, and then we head out the door after watching Dibs eat all of the ‘Jonesy Special’ pies.

Since last September when Bunchy’s first single ‘Scrapbook’ debuted, I’ve been enamoured with the band’s lo-fi approach, their signature art-rock sound, and their children’s storybook aesthetic. Bunchy’s are an absolute breath of fresh air in the music scene, and going to see them perform was a must. After watching the band play @Yours last Saturday, I am happy to report that they are every bit as good live as they are recorded.

And who better to open for Bunchy’s than Eris & U-No Juno. Unfortunately, due to a Potluck I didn’t make it to see Eris (sorry gang) and I only made it to see about half of U-No Juno’s set. Immediately upon walking into Yours, the Bunchy’s crew were manning door sales and handing out ear plugs – a massive green flag in my book. I love noisy noises as much as the next person, but mate, you’re gambling with your hearing if you go to gigs and don’t plug up. Especially if you’re going to see U-No Juno, they held the crowd in the palm of their hand with their mix of decibel shattering punk and alt. rock. With the band’s lead looking like a very young Thom Yorke and having his energy to boot, I was having a rollicking good time hearing the band belt out banger after banger. Also fairly certain I’ve bought darts from one of the members at what will remain an unidentified convenience store, so big ups for facilitating my silliest proletarian vice (if you haven’t started please don’t).

Once Bunchy’s commenced, the gig entered a sincere and surreal child-like space. The crowd attempted to keep balloons with simple sharpie-engraved faces air-borne, some attendees played a rousing game of handball with a very tiny very bouncy ball which had a mind of its own, and a strawberry-topped sponge cake (Happy Birthday Daniel Johnston) sat adjacently to the crowd. All this with no alcohol in sight, yippee!

Crowd theatrics aside, Bunchy’s Big Score delivered big time, utilising the contrast of serious and parody which makes their music so innovative to create a memorable performance of seamless transitions and out of the blue medleys. That’s right we’re talkin’ covers – Foo Fighters There’s My Hero, a Bunchyified Thunderstruck, some rockabilly kicks and Neutral Milk Hotels’ The King of Carrot Flowers, Pts. Two & Three among others. 

I can’t speak to how much fun this must’ve been to perform. Hamish (guitarist) had a knack for jumping around while shredding and joining in comradery with Max (vocals/keys) while Reef (drums) brutalised the drumkit. Giving high schoolers the opportunity to partake in a live music experience like this is an absolute boon for Ōtepoti, a city which has a renowned music output. Thanks to places like Yours and bands like Bunchy’s, Eris and U-No Juno, we’ll continue to be a city that punches above its weight in that field.

Is it possible to create music that sounds like it belongs simultaneously to a distant future and to your own childhood? Apparently, it is. Magdalena Bay have come into their own in a generational way on sophomore album Imaginal Disk, a perfect balancing act between wearing their influences on their sleeves and pushing the envelope on pop music. Hell, even to call it pushing the envelope is underselling it. They’ve cut up the envelope and made an origami discman out of the damn thing.

Mica Tenenbaum and Matthew Lewin, the duo behind the name, originally met while studying music in Miami and started a prog-rock band before eventually forming Magdalena Bay. The prog roots are evident all over the album, with extremely strong and sometimes vaguely confounding production choices and song structures that are willing to diverge heavily from any rigid verse-chorus-verse nonsense.

However, any pretension that is often associated with prog music is completely absent here. There is a healthy respect and admiration for femme-vocal pop music that spans the history of the genre, from ABBA, to Cyndi and Madonna, all the way through to Britney and Christina and even more modern icons such as Caroline Polachek. Fragile and wispy talk-sung vocals often sit next to, or even crash into blaring club synths that sound like they belong on a Daft Punk deep cut. It is an album that (rightly) prioritises fun and danceability over intellect, and yet is all the deeper and richer for it.

To paint a picture of how the influences grapple with each other and synthesise into something wholly new, you only need to look at the lead single, Death & Romance. It leans on this stumbling piano intro that sounds undeniably Fatboy Slim, but once Mica’s vocal waltzes in like something from a late 90s Kylie album and the extremely fuzzy (bordering on Kid A fuzzy) bassline comes and lays down over everything, it transforms from the sum of its parts into something greater, a greater that is equally unique, catchy and perplexing.

A true triumph of fun, movement, and oddly satisfying juxtaposition, the album is an excellent example of why any sweeping dismissal of pop music for being banal or bland is ridiculous and simply cuts you off from swathes of the most interesting music being produced today. Recommended for anyone who is big on enjoying being alive.