Gateway Indie

On May 20th of 2008, my musical taste changed forever. We (or at least I) tend to discover things in waves. Specifically waves of increasingly-tiered obsession that escalate until I can focus on one thing and one thing only. I’ll find a song I really like, devour the album that it came from, read everything on the band’s Wikipedia page, explore their discography, listen to side projects, see them live, spend exorbitant amounts of money on limited edition vinyl, then (apparently) write about my experience years later.

One of the most important steps in my particular brand of hyper-obsessive fandom is delving deeper into the genre of the band who I’ve recently discovered. Whether it’s simply to contextualize their sound, see if I recognize any of their contemporaries, or just to get a better understanding of the world’s musical history. When one artist’s discography isn’t enough, sometimes the next logical step is to start absorbing everything in their immediate vicinity. It’s a beautiful notion that one album can open the door to a whole new world of music that was previously hidden. It’s how you diversify as a music listener and as a person.

Up until high school, I’d really only explored the genres of classic rock, grunge, and some metal. All pretty standard stuff, especially for a white suburban teen, but it was all music that came out before I was born. In 2008 I discovered a group of albums that opened my eyes to the ever-cool world of indie and, more importantly, paved the way for my interest in both the genre and the contemporary music scene as a whole. As each of these albums near their 10th anniversary I realized that not only have many of them achieved “classic” status within the genre, they were also part of a larger movement for my generation.

Universality

Now that the internet has paved the way for services like iTunes, Spotify, Soundcloud, and Bandcamp, music has become more insular than ever. In 2017 there are entire sects of fans who can be hyper-devoted to one artist or scene that may never intersect with anyone else. Additionally, with the rise of social platforms like forums, Twitter, and reddit fans can live in a bubble… and while it’s great to connect with other fans, it also means the vocal obsessives are more walled-off.

We have fewer “universals” than ever before. Ed Sheeran is one of the best-selling artists in the world right now, but I don’t think I’ve heard a single song of his. Drake is breaking records every week, but if you don’t care about hip-hop, he’s pretty easy to avoid listening to. It’s a byproduct of the ever-splintering media landscape that we’re living in.

So there are positives and negatives, but this splintering is relevant because those “universals” will become fewer and far between as we move forward. Looking beyond music, you have shows like Game of Thrones which is one of the most technically popular and most-talked about shows currently on TV. It consistently shatters its own self-set viewership records, numbers which are worth screaming about in 2017, yet would have gotten a show canceled even 20 years ago. There’s just more to watch, more to do, and more to care about in 2017, so if you don’t want to watch Game of Thrones, you truly don’t have to. This isn’t the 20’s where everyone gathers around the radio for the day’s episode of Little Orphan Annie. I feel like I’m getting off track, but music is this phenomenon multiplied by thousands. Not only are there dozens of alternatives mediums vying for your attention, practically anyone can create music in 2017. There are more alternatives (and therefore fewer commonalities) than ever before.

I feel like we will reach (or perhaps have already hit) a point where there are simply no more universal artists. There’s never going to be another Beatles. Obviously. But looking purely at The Beatles on a scale purely based on audience and cultural impact, there will never be another musical group in the history of the world that reaches the omniscient presence that the Beatles achieved. There were fewer artists to listen to then, fewer ways to create music, and even fewer avenues to discover new music.

As technology has improved, we’ve seen a direct impact on the music industry as an entity. At the same time, we’ve also seen artists effectively harness this power. Groups like Odd Future were pervasive and forward-thinking enough that I (a high school-aged non-hip-hop listener) knew who they were and knew at least a few of their songs. While everyone’s musical journey is a unique story filled with personal discoveries that have influenced their taste, this is really a story about the first universal that I was a part of as it was happening.

I Miss the Old iTunes

Back when iTunes was still relatively new, it was my only source of current music. I would almost instantaneously drain any gift card I was given, using it to cross several songs off my carefully-curated iTunes wish list. I was also fortunate enough to have my Dad’s massive collection of nearly one thousand CD’s at my disposal, but as you could imagine, most of those albums were a decade old at least. That’s why I was a rock fan first: ease of access.

But I always found ways to satiate my hunger for new music. From VH1 to renting CDs one by one from the local library, there were only so many ways to hear new music, even in the mid-2000’s. One of the most unexpected avenues that I took advantage of was the (now sadly-defunct) iTunes Single of the Week Program, which offered exposure to countless contemporary acts one song at a time. It may not have been much, but this program turned me onto dozens of artists and sounds that I wouldn’t have heard otherwise. Through this mishmash of mid-2000’s media, I was able to satiate my budding hunger for new music as a penniless 14-year-old.

That brings us back to the first sentence of this post.

Unbeknownst to me, indie folk was blowing up In 2008. Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago was gaining serious traction a year after its release thanks to the album’s breakout hit “Skinny Love” and in May “Skinny Love” was put up as iTunes’ free song. As with most songs in the program, I’d never heard of the artist, nor had any experience with the genre, but I downloaded it anyway because that’s how hungry I was for new music.

I downloaded the track (no doubt on my family’s bulky oversized 2005 laptop) and synced it onto my iPod immediately. I was floored. I’d never heard anything so delicate. It was catchy (especially for a folk song) but it also had a soft warmth and reserved delivery that was a revelation to me at the time. “Skinny Love” evoked a feeling that was unlike any other music I’d ever heard. I had to have more.

Part of the beauty of the Single of the Week program was how random it was. One week it’d be an electropop song, the next it would be something folky like Bon Iver, and then it would be a latin song. I didn’t necessarily like it all (quite the opposite, in fact) but I listened to it all for the sake of discovery. The fact that these songs were free was just the icing on top of the cake. I had nothing to lose.

I had no idea at the time, but indie folk saw a massive explosion in popularity in 2008 with the rise of acts like Bon Iver and Fleet Foxes, who both released stunning debuts around this time. I didn’t realize that this era of indie had been such a widespread phenomenon until I saw people discussing Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago on its tenth anniversary calling it their “Gateway Indie” album. I liked that phrase, but I didn’t think much of it until I heard the ineffable deep_cuts youtube channel cite both For Emma and Fleet Foxes as “dominating adolescent MP3 players the world over” at this time. Maybe it was just his worldly UK accent, but something clicked for me. I realized this was not only a formative album, era, and sound for myself, but for everyone my age.

Beyond Folk

Later that year I met some of the coolest people in my high school. And by that I don’t mean cool in the traditional sense, they were dork-ass nerds like me, but they were dork-ass nerds with impeccable musical taste. At this point, the edgiest thing I had ever listened to was Nine Inch Nails, but these guys opened my mind to the larger world of indie music. Genres I didn’t even know existed. Sounds I could barely conceive of. This was 10th grade and the albums they showed me would go on to become some of my favorite and most formative of all time.

The first song I remember them playing for me was the opening track to Portugal. The Man’s first album Waiter: “You Vultures!” which was titled “How the Leopard Got Its Spots.” I’m going to stop there for a second just to point out this band/album/song combo was (before hearing the first note) already more experimental and out-there than anything else I’d ever heard up to that point.

“How the Leopard Got Its Spots” is a pokey unpredictable song that almost borders on prog. While Portugal. The Man changes up their sound every album, their debut is easily the most experimental of their discography, still retaining many characteristics of the band’s post-hard predecessor Anatomy of a Ghost. But I didn’t know any of that at the time. I just listened to the song, enraptured by the track’s grungy guitars that paired perfectly with Gourley’s shrill high-pitched singing. The lyrics were obtuse in a Relationship of Command-type way and the final glitched-out chorus haunted me for days after the fact, becoming an immovable earworm. I remember at the time Grand Theft Auto IV had just been released (God, take me back) and I’d spend hours tooling around the game’s gray city listening to this song on repeat for hours.

Sometime later, Eric (the one of the group who I was closest to) and I found ourselves sitting next to each other during a weirdly-placed mid-day homeroom period. I asked him what he was listening to and he said “I’ll show you” he handed me his headphones and hit play on his 3rd generation iPod Nano. What I heard were the first shimmering notes of Minus The Bear’s “Pachuca Sunrise.” The song’s carefully-times guitar taps and intensely-technical drumming provide the crunchy background for Jake Snyder’s laid-back sensual lyrics and Cory Murchy’s smooth flowing bassline. It gelled into a transformative experience that made my body feel warm with sunlight and love. There’s a reason it’s still one of the band’s most-played live songs even a decade later. It turns out “Pachuca Sunrise” was many people’s first Minus The Bear song and led countless fans to the group’s second album Menos El Oso.

At this point, I already had enough “material” to go off on my own and endlessly devour these two records from these two very different bands. And I did, but I was also hungry for more. I came back to this group of guys in our shared AV class and begged for more in the coolest way I could without discounting my own cred.

From there Eric, Oliver, and Max threw me into the deep end. They showed me “Death Rides a Horse” by instrumental band Russian Circles. I dug it. Ratcheting up the intensity, they moved onto “Laser Life” by the post-hardcore band Blood Brothers. I dug it. They then threw the hyperchaotic cybergrind “Chapels” by Genghis Tron at me. I didn’t dig it, but I warmed up to it pretty quickly.

While there were dozens of other acts and songs that these guys turned me onto over the course of the next year, this crop stands out in my mind both for its breadth and what they’ve gone on to represent for me personally.

Portugal. The Man would go onto become one of my favorite bands. I’ve often proselytized online that they have one of the best discographies in indie rock. I would also go on to expose this band to my two younger brothers, and for one of them, Portugal. The Man has become their favorite band of all time. They currently sit at my 8th most played band on Last.fm with just over 3,000 plays.

Minus the Bear was my favorite band for years. At 6 concerts they’re also far-and-away the band I’ve seen live the most, and two years ago I saw them play Menos El Oso in full for the album’s 10th-anniversary tour. The album’s closing track “This Ain’t a Surfin’ Movie” has been my favorite song of all time since I first heard it. The band is currently my 6th most-listened band on Last.fm, and three of the band’s albums are have made it onto my list of all-time favorites.

Russian Circles would eventually lead me to the world of post-rock and instrumental metal. Bands like Explosions in the Sky, Mogwai, and Earth, all of whom have served as my reading and studying music throughout high school and college. Russian Circles also have a nearly-perfect discography, and they currently sit at #15 on my Last.fm.

Meanwhile, Fleet Foxes were always a bit boring to me… until this year. Maybe I have more patience at 24 than I did at 15, but I’ve had their discography on repeat for this entire summer and I’ve been loving it.

Most importantly, Bon Iver served as my gateway to all of this. It’s weird that a slow quiet folk album could pave the way for something as discordant and brutal as Genghis Tron, but I guess it’s a snowball effect type of thing. For Emma, Forever Ago also became somewhat of a soundtrack for my first real relationship, and despite that relationship’s rocky conclusion a year later, I can still listen to the album today and enjoy it as much as I did the first time hearing it.

I can’t thank these three dudes (and the creators of these albums) enough. I can safely say that my life would be unequivocally and vastly different without having gone through this period of exploration when I did. I would be a different person with different tastes and interests entirely. Full stop. So for that, I can only say “thank you” and hope that I returned the favor with someone else somewhere down the line. Sometimes discoveries come from the most unexpected places. Sometimes a random song can lead you down a path you never could have blazed yourself. Sometimes a single song can change everything.

In Defense of DJ Khaled

I’m not one to defend mediocrity. Some things are just aggressively “alright” and DJ Khaled tends to be one of them. He’s not an artist in the traditional sense of the word, in fact putting him in a box is actually kind of hard. He’s a Snapchat-famous DJ, record producer, and meme machine with just a few more catchphrases your average Saturday morning cartoon character. While his musical contributions tend to be nothing more than shouting his own catchphrases in between (or directly over) a rapper’s bars, he also serves an important role as a Nick Fury-like assembler of talents.

In the wake of this year’s Grateful, I’ve found myself reflecting on DJ Khaled’s prior release with a surprising amount of fondness. While I won’t defend mediocrity on an artistic level, that’s not to say there isn’t a time and a place for it. The real problem is most DJ Khaled albums are the musical equivalent of throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks. Sometimes you’ll get a Drake-bolstered summer anthem, or strike gold with an unexpected artist pairing. But more often than not you’ll end up with a by-the-numbers hip-hop track that feels market tested as fuck and sounds like six different people all sending verses to each other via email over the course of months.

And I can’t tell if it’s nostalgia for summer 2016 or genuine appreciation, but Khaled’s skill as a musical host has never been more on a more impressive display than 2016’s Major Key. In fact, I’d go as far as to say it’s a flawless album. Now before you close the tab let me explain myself. I don’t mean flawless in that it stacks up to The Beatles or anything, I mean that every track on it is great and serves a different purpose.

While I usually hate track-by-tracks, I think Major Key is an album that would benefit from this type of dissection. There is honestly an impressive number of sounds being explored on this album. The collaborations feel fresh, and Khaled’s typically-shoehorned catchphrases actually fit into the album unobtrusively. It’s not high art, but it’s an incredibly-varied selection of songs that ends up feeling more like a curated summer playlist than a record by one man.

I guess that’s a point against the album since I’m basically saying Major Key is good because it doesn’t feel like a “DJ Khaled album,” but his skill here wrangling the number of artists and sounds is worth writing about. He’s a host and curator, and this album is the most consistent of his career. It’s commendable, especially when contrasted with the uneven follow-up we just received.

1) I Got the Keys (feat. Jay Z and Future)

Major Key begins with a fittingly-named banger that allows Jay-Z to don his jewelry and flex for the world once again. The track sees Future relegated to the song’s chorus while Jay-Z comes in with two of the best verses we’ve heard from him in years. While the recent release of 4:44 signals a more grown-up and fatherly shift in Jay’s sound and topics, it’s nice to have one (possibly final) send-off to Big Pimpin’-era Hov. Yes the chorus is repetitive, but 2016 was host to a rash of intentionally-repetitiveFuture-led choruses (including a second one later on this very album). I like that these songs are using Future for his unique textured voice as opposed to his tired lean-soaked raps. As a whole, the song has a hypnotic siren-like beat that Jay rides nicely and it ends up serving as a perfect energetic opener.

2) For Free (feat. Drake)

A Drake feature is practically a tradition on DJ Khaled albums at this point. In addition to the pair’s storied history, a Drake feature almost guarantees a song’s commercial success and a nomination for the elusive “Song of the Summer” title. Released as Major Key’s first single, the song did numbers but failed reach the pervasiveness needed to truly become the official song of the summer (despite Khaled’s claims on the song’s outro.) It’s still a nice bouncy Drake track that’s pool-party-ready, and furthered Drake’s exploration of the dancehall-esque sound.

3) Nas Album Done (feat. Nas)

On “Nas Album Done” Nas himself commandeers an entire track simply to spit bars for three minutes straight. With no chorus, and minimal intrusion from Khaled, this is a song of pure hip-hop proficiency that addresses the political climate of mid-2016. The title refers to Nas’ (still-unreleased) forthcoming album which will be his first in over five years. As such, this Fugees-sampling track serves as an appetizer for the bars to come on his next record.

4) Holy Key (feat. Kendrick Lamar, Big Sean, and Betty Wright)

Easily the track I’ve listened to most off of the album, “Holy Key” is a fast-moving and hard-hitting pump-up jam. The song that calls to mind Sean and Kendrick’s previous collaboration, the world-concerning “Control” which was a pivotal moment for the hip-hop scene as a whole. While “Holy Key” doesn’t quite recapture the fire of “Control” (a lot of time has passed since 2013) it does manage to capture a particularly-strong Big Sean verse and one of the most ferocious features of Kendrick’s career.  

5) Jermaine’s Interlude (feat. J. Cole)

After the abject fire of “Holy Key” things slow down a bit for a bit of a breather on the J. Cole-helmed “Jermaine’s Interlude.” It provides some much-needed pathos after the blitz of hyper-proficient verses on the first few tracks of the album. The interlude throws bone to the very specific yet ravenous fan base that J. Cole has cultivated since his breakthrough 2014 Forest Hills Drive. The mellowed-out track injects more of a “conscious” sound into Major Key that breaks up the album’s themes and showcases a surprising amount of well-articulated topics for an interlude.

6) Ima Be Alright (feat. Bryson Tiller and Future)

In the album’s most flaccid track Future and Bryson Tiller trade verses over a dreamy beat that continues the slower late night vibes of the last track. The song showcases a particularly-animated Future verse that’s sandwiched in between two remorseful Tiller hooks that discuss the pratfalls of fame. It’s capped off with a verse from Tiller and a surprisingly funny outro by Khaled.

7) Do You Mind (feat. Nicki Minaj, Chris Brown, August Alsina, Jeremih, Future, and Rick Ross)

From there the album continues its stretch of slower tracks with the overtly-sexy “Do You Mind.” The track combines Chris Brown and August Alsina vocals to create an earworm of a chorus that Alsina then commandeers for a short verse. From there the two throw to Jeremiah who adds a third layer of R&B sexiness before another chorus swaggers in. The track takes a hard turn as Future and Rick Ross come in with two short verses, but Nicki caps it all off with an incredibly-sung bridge right before the song’s end. It’s a radio-ready R&B track that sounds different than anything else on the album. With a packed guest list, this is a song “for the ladies” and it does its job well.

8) Pick These Hoes Apart (feat. Kodak Black, Jeezy, and French Montana)

As you would expect from a song with this title, “Pick These Hoes Apart” represents a shift back towards full-on hip-hop within the album. Featuring some of the most objectively-disgusting lines on the entire record, the song still gets some points for bringing together such a disparate group of rappers and shining a light on Kodak Black right as he was blowing up. It shows a lot of foresight on Khaled’s part. It’s also worth noting that the track features a great verse from French Montana who I’ve never particularly cared for, but he manages to utilize his brand of slurred half-sung rap here on a beat that sounds like it was made for him.

9) Fuck Up the Club (feat. Future, Rick Ross, YG, and Yo Gotti)

The album’s hip-hop mode is decidedly back in full swing on “Fuck Up the Club” which features the album’s second supremely-repetitive Future hook, a roster of legit street rappers, and an absolute banger of a beat. The track sees YG and Yo Gotti at the height of their powers after their high-profile releases of Still Brazy and “Champions” respectively. Everyone comes in with heat, and the track’s beat is relentless with little breathing room for anything besides explosive forward momentum.

10) Work for It (feat. Big Sean, Gucci Mane, and 2 Chainz)

Arguably one of the most star-studded tracks on the album, “Work for It” subverts expectations by being a bit of a slower track that finds Big Sean at the helm. It really does telegraph the sound on Sean’s upcoming I Decided. but remains a track that fits its other guests suitably. It’s apparent that the recently-released Gucci and always-humorous Titti Boi were both in “creation mode” on this track amidst a slew of their own 2016 releases. It may not change the Big Sean hater’s minds, but it’s a left turn that I didn’t see when first listening to the album.

11) Don’t Ever Play Yourself (feat. Jadakiss, Fabolous, Fat Joe, Busta Rhymes, and Kent Jones)

With a lineup of guests who are all in their 40’s (Kent Jones notwithstanding) I see “Don’t Ever Play Yourself” as the dedicated “oldhead” song on the album. Reminiscent of Compton’s “Loose Cannons,” or “One Shot One Kill” this track sounds like a different generation of rappers who all decided to hop on a track with one thing to prove: that they’re far from “too old this shit.” It’s apparent why these rappers have all stuck around, they all have different voices and at this point, they’ve honed their craft enough to make it all look effortless.

12) Tourist (feat. Travis Scott and Lil Wayne)

“Tourist” had been floating around the internet for about a year at this point as a semi-unfinished Travis Scott solo song. In its appearance on Major Key, we hear a remastered version with a surprise Lil Wayne feature added on and (luckily) little-to-no Khaled yelling. It’s a hazy track that retains the signature Travis Scott sound while echoing 3500’s drowsy unwinding instrumental.

13) Forgive Me Father (feat. Meghan Trainor, Wiz Khalifa, and Wale)

When Major Key’s tracklist was officially released a few weeks before the album’s drop, I remember one thing concretely: the internet’s reaction to this song’s feature list. First off: what a weird collection of people. Second: Wiz is washed. Third: Meghan Trainor? The “All About That Bass” chick? I don’t know why, but I’d like to pat myself on the back for believing that this song wouldn’t be as bad as everyone was expecting it to be. I may just love being a contradictory fuck, and maybe it’s just because I went in with low expectations, but I find “Forgive Me Father” a corny, yet inspirational song that isn’t offensive in the least.

14) Progress

The last song on Major Key sees Khaled ceding Major Key to Jamaican singer Mavado. This is actually the second time this handoff has happened (with the third instance occurring on 2017’s Grateful) perhaps signaling a new inner-album tradition. It’s a tropical island song that calls to mind flashes of Khaled’s snapchat stories watering and talking to his flowers in a sunny yard. It’s a “full circle” song about progress that serves as the perfect conclusion to the album by encapsulating everything we’ve heard up until that point.

Major Key has a little bit of everything. Like most DJ Khaled records you could cherry pick single songs for the right mood, but it also holds together surprisingly well as an album. There’s no “journey” or “resolution” but you could easily sit down and listen to all 58 minutes of this and enjoy yourself. It’s a great summer album and has enough variation to keep you wondering (or excited for) what’s coming next. It’s a “playlist” before Drake did the same thing a year later. That’s not to say all DJ Khaled albums aren’t playlists (because they’re all like this) but Major Key is the first time it crystallized into something substantive that was fully enjoyable from beginning to end.  

In contrast, 2017’s Grateful is overly-long (21 tracks and almost 90 minutes) and released in direct contrast to Calvin Harris’ polished Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1 which did the “DJ Khaled thing” in a better, more pointed way. But all this said I do believe Major Key to be a legitimately great hip-hop album that stands on its own. I’m honestly in shock I was able to write 1,000+ words about it, and I guess that endorsement speaks for itself more than my praise ever can.

It’s an interesting dichotomy because Grateful featured songs like “I’m The One” and “Wild Thoughts” which were unequivocally more successful than anything off of Major Key. It ties back to the discussion I carried out earlier this month about the crossroads between commercial success and artistic fulfillment. Major Key was no flop, but by all accounts Grateful is shaping up to be a technically more successful album. I think that Major Key stands on its own better on an artistic level, but there’s certainly a difference between the two records.

“I’m the One” has been an earworm (and chart-topper) since its release as a single in late April, I’ll give it that. But I’d still pick Major Key over it, even if it doesn’t have the “single power” of Grateful. And (to circle back to the original topic) I’m not saying Major Key is high art. This shit isn’t Abbey Road, It’s not Darkside, it’s not even Cat Scratch Fever. For as much as I wrote above, I still think this album is only one step above mediocrity on an artistic level. It will probably age horribly in a few years, it has some questionable lyrics, and as a whole, it’s just a good collection of tracks rather than a compelling vision carried out by one creative force.

The point is, even with all those things weighing it down, it’s great at what it needs to be. Grateful isn’t as good as what it needed to be (which was the same thing as Major Key), but in the end, they both pale in comparison to albums that were crafted with time, care, and artistry. I’m not saying DJ Khaled isn’t those things, I’m just saying Major Key succeeds in every goal that it sets out to do. It doesn’t aim high, so it shouldn’t be judged on that level. Major Key is a stellar collection of incredibly-varied tracks that bring together a wide roster of hip-hop artists large and small. No two tracks sound alike, DJ Khaled plays an excellent role as artistic curator, and everything comes together nicely. On that scale, it’s as far from mediocrity as you can get.

Project Pabst 2017 Lineup Guide | Saturday August 26th

This August, everyone’s favorite alcoholic swill is putting on their yearly music festival at Tom McCall Waterfront Park. It’s Portland’s biggest music festival, and at this point, one of the best in the Pacific Northwest given Sasquatch’s recent descent into madness. But Project Pabst has managed to wrangle great line-ups year after year from Ghostface Killah to a recently-reunited Ween. The festival itself walks a great line between scale and obscurity with enough genres in its lineup to have a little something for everybody. Overall it feels like a very “Portland” festival, and this year is no different.

I’m essentially much writing this as a guide for a couple of friends who are interested in the festival but unfamiliar with some of the artists in this year’s lineup. While it’s written with them in mind, I also hope this guide can double as an entry point for introducing yourself to these artists you may or may not know.

The Last Artful, Dodgr

Alongside Illmaculate and 2017 XXL FreshmanAminé, The Last Artful, Dodgr is one of the few artists holding down the Portland rap scene. In 2013 Alana Chenevert quit her job and wrote “Sway” which served as her mission statement and road map to stardom. A prophecy that came true in 2016, proving that if you put it out into the universe with enough confidence, you have the power to materialize your own destiny. That moment of transformation from graphic designer to rapper isn’t (quite) a story old as time, but serves as a perfect example of the explosive creative scene that is Portland.

Choice Track “Squadron”

White Reaper

People love to claim that rock is either dead or in the process of dying. It’s too commercial. Other genres have become more exciting. The legacy acts are getting too old to “rock out” in the same way they used to. Fuck that. White Reaper is a symbolic middle finger towards the non-believers. White Reaper is part of a new class of rock along with acts like the poetically-named Diarrhea Planet. They’re not a sub genre, they don’t have an asterisk, and they don’t give a fuck. They are just pure, unadulterated, rip-ass rock. With fuzzed out guitar, catchy choruses, and snarling vocals, they’re living proof that rock is far from dead in 2017.

Choice Track “Make Me Wanna Die”

Filthy Friends

An alt rock supergroup comprised of Corin Tucker (Sleater-Kinney), Peter Buck (R.E.M.), Kurt Bloch and Scott McCaughey (the Minus 5), Bill Rieflin (King Crimson), and occasionally Krist Novoselic (Nirvana). It’s a murderer’s row of 90’s icons (and one prog figurehead) that formed in 2012 with the simple goal of covering David Bowie songs. The group has since evolved into a fully-realized politically-charged entity as they queue up to release an album the day before Project Pabst.

Choice Track “The Arrival”

PUP

PUP is a Canadian group comprised of four lifelong friends who make throat-shredding punk… And I use ‘throat-shredding’ as an adjective, but also as a reference to lead singer Stefan Babcock’s diagnosis at the end of 2015 that extensive touring had damaged his vocal chords beyond repair. Despite the doctor’s claims that he’d never sing again, the band released the impeccable “The Dream is Over” in 2016 (the title itself a reference to a quote from the doctor.) The band packs a ton into the album’s 30-minute running time, but the opening track “If This Tour Doesn’t Kill You, Then I Will” does all the explaining for them. PUP is here to stay, and their struggle is a testament to artistic resilience.   

Choice Track “Guilt Trip” followed immediately by “Sleep In The Heat” (just trust me.)

Lizzo

Lizzo is a singer who fuses R&B, hip-hop, and gospel into one absurdly-dancey package. It’s pure, soaring, feel-good music that’s guaranteed to bring a smile to your face. Lizzo somehow manages to make this mix of genres feel familiar yet fresh at the same time. Her most recent release Coconut Oil feels like something that can only be a by product of the times we live in; a celebration of all things strong in which the listener hopes that even a fraction of Lizzo’s confidence rubs off on them.

Choice Track “Worship”

FIDLAR

Every once in awhile you’ll make a discovery in the least-expected place. FIDLAR is a skate punk band in the same vein as Wavves or Cloud Nothings, and while their sound technically falls in-line with the sunny skate punk genre, the band manages to bring something special to the table with a unique brand of drugged-out rock. I first discovered the band through Grand Theft Auto V’s in-game indie station which featured the band’s breakout song “Cocaine.” While the group’s blistering self-titled debut remains their best, their 2015 follow-up Too is admirable for its attempt at a darker, more dynamic aesthetic. Tracks like “Overdose” prove the band has more to say than ‘partying rules,’ although their breezy ‘fuck it’ songs remain the most engaging in their catalog.

Choice Track “Wake Bake Skate”

Father John Misty

Father John Misty (aka Papa John Misty, aka Father Jah Mystery, aka dozens of other absurdist nicknames) is the irony-riddled folk alter ego of Josh Tillman. While Tillman has a storied history of releasing solo projects under his own name, drumming for Fleet Foxes, and writing for pop acts like Beyoncé, he’s recently found success with this indie-parodying pseudonym. While his out-of-music escapades are too many to count, he first came to my attention in 2015 with his biting love record I Love You, Honeybear. It’s a grand, beautiful, and honest album about love in the smartphone era, that has since become one of my all-time favorite records. More recently he dropped Pure Comedy a sprawling album about the cosmic joke of life in a post-Trump world. It’s not as fun of a listen as Honeybear, but it’s just as honest. It also manages to raise some tough questions, even if it doesn’t try to give any answers.

Choice Track “Chateau Lobby #4 (in C for Two Virgins)”

Die Antwoord

To describe Die Antwoord as “out there” would be a disservice. This South African hip-hop group began making waves at the end of the aughts with their otherworldly songs and the ballistic music video accompaniments. While a semi-watered-down version of the duo made it into Neill Blomkamp’s Chappie, they are probably best introduced in the same way I stumbled across them: the music video for “Evil Boy.” Once you watch you’ll know why I have such a hard time formulating their description into words. The group currently plans to disband this fall following the release of their fifth album, so Project Pabst may be one of the last chances to see the group in all their weirdness.

Choice Track “I Fink U Freaky”

Iggy Pop

What can be said about Iggy Pop that hasn’t been said before? He’s the godfather of punk. From the world-changing debut, his flawless sophomore solo album, or his later career classics like Beat Em Up, Pop has proven himself to be an enduring figure worthy of his title. He’s survived a sea of drugs, dozens of self-inflicted lacerations, and somehow made his way to his 70’s despite himself. In 2016 he released his final album: Post Pop Depression, a dark desert rock epic that’s a beyond-suitable send off for the aging legend. He’s one of the last true rockers, and to see him live before his retirement is an honor.

Choice Track “Sunday”

The Top 7 Video Game Monkeys

Monkeys are important.

Perhaps it’s because I finished Westworld and watched War For the Planet of the Apes in the same weekend, but I can’t stop thinking about our race’s eventual demise. We can’t be the top of the food chain forever. And while I do believe in aliens, I think that a robotic or monkey-based uprising is far more likely from a statistical standpoint, and also something I’m more likely to see in my lifetime.

With all that in mind, I’d like to give a quick shout out to the species by highlighting some of their important figureheads within the realm of gaming. I’m on your side. Please don’t enslave me.

#7 - Specter (Ape Escape Series)

While he gets points for being a minority (albino) he also loses points for dressing like an anime character.

#6 - Monkey (Timesplitters Series)

He shoots. He dresses up. He has an eerily-posed mouth that’s constantly open. What’s not to like? Toss him some Tommy guns.

#5 - AiAi (Super Monkey Ball Series)

While he puts up a smiling and happy facade we all know he’s crumbling on the inside, constantly crushed by the fact that he’ll never emerge from the glass prison that encases him. He’s living in hell.

#4 - Gorilla Grodd (Injustice 2)

Man, this dude’s smart as hell. Plus he’s on TV. Good taste in headwear.

#3 - King Kong (Peter Jackson’s King Kong: The Official Game of the Movie)

He tall. He’s dark. He’s Handsome. He’s in love with Nicki Kids, and he’s not afraid to kill a few dinosaurs to protect her (can you blame him?)

#2 - Winston (Overwatch)

Man, he smart too. Maybe smarter than Gorilla Grodd? Will need to do more research on character battle message boards. Points in favor: has nice reading glass frames, is friends with a lesbian, uses renewable weaponry, very progressive.

#1 - Donkey Kong (Everything)

He has bars. We all know that. He’ll take your girl, toss barrels at you, and then go kart with you years later like it’s nbd. He just doesn’t give a care. He popularized Jimmy Neutron hair (thank you) and isn’t afraid to stunt on hoes by dressing up a little. A true catch. Iconic. Historical. Monkey.

Pop Culture Cannibalism

One of the fondest memories of my childhood is a simple one. It’s not a surprise trip to Disneyland, or my first kiss, or the unboxing of a brand new video game console at Christmas. No, in fact, it’s more banal than almost anything you could ever imagine. In reality, one of the most saccharine and amber-coated memories of my pre-teens involved sitting in my family’s living room with my best friend on a lazy summer day watching VH1’s I Love The… Series. We sat there lethargically sprawled out on my family’s couch, pacified by the television as we killed an entire bag of those cheap grocery store fudge pops and gleefully watched early 2000’s actors, comedians, and musicians warmly reflect on the pop culture events of yesteryear.

It feels like such a small thing. It wasn’t a “big” event, there was no defining moment, and if you asked me, I probably couldn’t even remember which season of the show we were watching at the time. If you asked my friend, he probably wouldn’t even remember this happening in the first place. It’s lost to time, one of the dozens of other nameless summer days that we all happily wasted enjoying our reprieve from of middle school.

I remember this day because I remember the feeling. I remember appreciating it in the moment, and it’s something I think of often, especially during the summer. I spent the rest of that summer playing video games, running around with friends, and watching as much as of the “I Love The” series possibly could. Luckily my family had just set up our first DVR, so I was able to methodically record every episode of each season and watch them all sequentially.

It felt good. Actually, it felt incredible. It was like a self-imposed history lesson. I felt like I was doing homework that I actually enjoyed. In my mind, I this show was a comprehensive look at every year of pop culture before I was born. It was the first time I was ever “pop culture woke,” and I realized that a lot of important stuff happened before I was born. I made it my duty to study it. This was my first step toward becoming a pop culture historian.

A couple years later in 2008, I listened to my first podcast. That’s a topic deserving of its own post somewhere down the line (it’s something I’ve been working up to for years). But in 2011 that podcast spun-off into its own show and subsequent network: Laser Time. Laser Time is a topic-based podcast that covers the hyper-specific happenings of our pop-cultural landscape. The show has covered everything from bad Beatles covers, and dirty Christmas songs to surprisingly pervasive concepts like 80’s rap commercials and celebrity vanity projects. The network is also home to a comic book show, a video game podcast, a chronological exploration of The Simpsons, and much more.

Amongst the days and days worth of programming on the Laser Time Network, there is a slightly higher-concept show titled Thirty Twenty Ten. Thirty Twenty Ten is a “pop culture time machine” podcast that looks back at the music, movies, TV, and video games of this exact week 30, 20, and 10 years ago. It’s a blast to listen to, and it just recently clicked that I love this podcast for the same reason that I watched I Love The… series as a kid: it’s a fast-paced, unrelenting, and (relatively) comprehensive look back at our own pop culture history. It’s a carnivorous approach to media, one that doesn’t discriminate, and talks about these bits of the past with an absurd amount of reverence… well, as much reverence as you can have with a fart joke every episode.

I mean what other show would take the time to describe the beauty of the 1986 Transformers movie with an earnest and loving 30-minute discussion? And speaking of earnest, what podcast would care to break down the surprisingly-complicated history of Ernest P. Worrell? Hell, what other piece of media would jump from Predator, OK Computer, Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, and the finale of The Sopranos all within in the same episode?

Thirty Twenty Ten is a blitz of pop culture past. Like a train whizzing by at 50 miles an hour where each compartment is a great forgotten album or hilariously-shitty TV movie. The conflux of the host’s knowledge and anecdotes from the audience (like yours truly) combines into a beautiful listening experience that’s unlike anything else out on the digital airwaves right now.

When I sat down to start writing this it was a warm sunny summer afternoon that brought to mind that one day I spent with my friend watching low-budget VH1 programming. Now as the sun sets over the trees I’m grateful that I have a new weekly fix that emulates the same experience, improves upon it, and gives me a 90-minute trip down memory lane every week.

It’s a pop culture geek’s dream.

We’re blessed to live in a world where we can find anything we want in an instant. From childhood recipes to old commercials, to half-remembered lyrics of some distant song. The thing is, most of us don’t take advantage of that resource because these memories aren’t on the forefront of our consciousness. Both I Love The… and Thirty Twenty Ten are great because they capitalize on this information in a way that nobody else is. They’re diving into the rich mine of our shared cultural touch points, and emerging with something from the listener’s own memory. Something that reflects who we are.

Over a decade ago VH1 programmed me to be an absolute dork of a pop culture sponge. Someone who collects, categorizes, and memorizes obsessively. Someone who values the history of art both high and low. It changed my life and made me into the person I am today.

And now Thirty Twenty Ten is reinforcing that. Giving me weekly satiation for my pop cultural hunger. And as my life becomes busier and busier, I can’t be that kid anymore. I can no longer be that middle schooler who spends an entire summer day sitting on his couch downing half a bag of fudgsicles. And as I’ve felt my post-college life whirring into place over the past year I’m grateful to have something like Thirty Twenty Ten there for me when I’m too busy or too tired to do it myself. It’s an absolute joy to have this program and its hosts in my life, and I hope that they continue the show until its logical conclusion. Podcasts have changed my life, and Thirty Twenty Ten is proof that this is all worth it.