I’m pretty sure I remember Fiona Apple saying in an interview that “if you create something, you should feel like you have nothing left.” This album feels exactly like that - like Apple has put all of the emotion and experience of the seven years since her last album into The Idler Wheel…
These songs are mostly just Apple and her piano, but this isn’t pleasantly forgettable singer-songwriter background music. This is an album to be played loudly. That’s when the quirky and difficult melodies become cathartic and Apple’s ragged and soulful voice raises hairs.
On “Valentine,” one of the many highlights, she sings “I love you” in a way that no one ever has. “I love you” becomes an accusation filled with anger, desperation and guilt. By the end of the song Apple instead sounds resigned and disappointed, describing the complicated emotions of being in a relationship.
Every song on this album was at one time my favourite, but that’s not just simply because I think they’re all great. There’s something to learn in every song about how humans work, though Apple is someone to relate to instead of someone who gives advice. There’s something powerfully reassuring about how she is able to describe the things that we all feel but have a hard time figuring out how to admit.
“How can I ask anyone to love me,” Apple asks, “When all I do is beg to be left alone?” She gets at the difficult question of how we are supposed to deal with feeling selfish in relationships when we’re supposed to be selfless. Even when she seems happy on “Anything We Want,” Apple still longs for love to be as simple and pure as when she was young. What makes this album so powerful is how Apple expresses complex emotions so directly and with a cutting wit.
After Apple was arrested earlier last year for drug possession, gossip sites turned their attention to relentlessly comment on her weight and appearance. She asked at a concert for the people incessantly writing about her to “please stop hurting my feelings, because it really fucking bothers me.” Apple was sincere, honest and vulnerable - just like her music. The Idler Wheel… is a call to feel everything.
Nolan Matthews, Senior ANDY Editor
Joey Bada$$ is only 17, but he’s already earned comparisons to Nas, AZ, and Cormega. Maybe it’s his prodigiously lyrical, polysyllabic flow, which resurrects classic mid-1990s New York boom-bap. Or maybe it’s the pitch-perfect production from the Pro Era crew, which sits perfectly at home among MF Doom and J Dilla instrumentals. The resemblance is so uncanny that he’s been accused of plagiarizing the era’s sound - in essence, a borrowed nostalgia for an unremembered decade. Pro Era themselves have disowned the stylistic comparisons: “What people fail to realize is that I’m not only into boom-bap,” Joey maintains, while Chuck Strangers claims that, “contrary to popular belief [...] I don’t just sit around making boom-bap beats all day.”
It’s hard to deny that there are a couple moments on 1999 where Joey risks blurring the line between homage and fetishism—among the most conspicuous is his 16-bar crew shout-out, à la outro to Nas’s “Represent,” over an obscure Lord Finesse beat culled from a 1997 Xperadó vinyl-only B-side. (And it doesn’t help that he’s probably the only 17-year-old reviving words like “buddha” or “mom dukes”).
But 1999 is far more of a stylistic collage than his detractors make it out to be. For one, there’s as many references to Lil B and Watch the Throne as there are to Illmatic, while tracks like “Hardknock” owe a lot to conscious rap (Joey even lists Gandhi among his influences). And his youth imbues the mixtape with a sincerity that’s most apparent on the stuttering ballad “Pennyroyal,” where he quotes “Song Cry” over a MF DOOM beat.
Those accusing Joey of derivativeness might also want to take note of his blistering wit. Whether it’s puns like “Like they gonna catch up/ketchup, fuck what you must heard/mustard” or gags like “I got them girls next to the wood like they Lightyear,” his wordplay is solid gold. Far from merely rehashing a bygone style, 1999 introduces Joey Bada$$ as one of the most exciting new voices in rap.
Michael Skinnider
In an age obsessed with electronic and synth-oriented music, Cloud Nothings have taken a decidedly different approach. Attack on Memory is a dark record that questions our cultural ideals, creating an almost dystopic sentiment that forces the listener to confront the darkness of our world. Cloud Nothings frontman Dylan Baldi accurately describes the record as a bunch of “depressing songs.”
Attack on Memory represents a sharp contrast from the band’s previous pop sound, and the title of the album is meant to reflect this, as Baldi claims the record is an attack on people’s memory of Cloud Nothings.
With this record, Cloud Nothings has developed Nirvana’s grunge sound and added elements of Japandroids’ fast-paced melodies. This infectious combination forces listeners to embrace their youth, but also accept their lack of societal power. “Stay Useless” and “No Future/No Past” are among the record’s most powerful anthems, driving fans to pump their fists in agreement with Baldi’s words. “Fall In,” on the other hand, upsets the album’s angst by supplying an upbeat and catchy tune. This variety leaves the audience depressed with society’s bleak outlook but also hopeful for a better future.
Attack on Memory has cemented Cloud Nothings as an irrepressible force.
Tina Cody
