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Say It (Shlohmo Remix) by Tory Lanez
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âYou know what is paying for these three days in Marrakech?â:
âYou know what is paying for these three days in Marrakech?â: Lanthimosâs The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Hitchcockâs The Man Who Knew Too Much, and The Commodified Human Body.
Reviewing nearly any movie is, in actuality, the task of reviewing a film already made by Alfred Hitchcock. Following that logic, one of the questions Yorgos Lanthimos posits in The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017) is the question of the value of one life relative to another. Who gets to choose who lives or dies? And on what basis? Or are we always-already engaged in such a valuation, such a judgment of the value of oneâs life? Some people might suggest the prime parallel for such themes would be Sophieâs Choice (1982). Those people would be ignoring Hitchcockâs The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956).
As James Stewartâs Ben McKenna and Doris Dayâs Jo Conway stroll through the outdoor market in Marrakech, Hitchcock posits the resolution to the philosophical question heâll spend the rest of the film engaging with. Jo says to Ben, âYou know what I was just thinking? You know what is paying for these three days in Marrakech? ⊠Mrs. Campbellâs gallstones.â The two laugh, sharing what seems to be the only genuine moment of marital happiness in the entire film. The relationship, predicated on the subordination of Joâs âConwayâ surname, is sutured only by the child that will in turn become the psychoanalytic lost object of the film. Before Hankâs disappearance, though, Jo and Ben can laugh about Joâs Parisian purse being paid for by Bill Edwardâs tonsils.
This scene barely needs to be analyzed, but Iâll offer a perfunctory account: here, humans are instrumentalized and evaluated, valued and exchanged, the capital machinations of the medical practice and its existential implications laid bare. This puts the lie to Dr. McKennaâs difficulty when it comes to making a choice between the life of his son and the Prime Minister. Ben is paralyzed by the task of weighing one life over another and making a decision about who lives and who dies. But of course, he already must make choices like these! Mrs. Campbellâs gallstones covered the cost of the McKenna family vacation.
Colin Farrellâs Steven Murphy, then, has the same problem. Lanthimos seems keenly aware that depicting a man like Murphy, an accomplished and wealthy surgeon, as the hapless and helpless arbiter of moral justice, makes just the right kind of symbolic sense. As the young Martin, played by Barry Keoghan, insists: âitâs a metaphor⊠a symbol,â taking a chunk out of Stevenâs arm and then his own with a fierce bite. That fierce bite is one the audience feels all too well, as Lanthimos becomes Murphyâs double with his poking and prodding of his themes and his surgical shooting of each scene.
The filmâs climax, diegetically, is precisely the opposite of surgical. With Murphyâs family bound and gagged, he covers his eyes with a winter hat and spins around, firing at random. Eventually, it is his âeffeminateâ (in the logic of the film) son that is killed. Just like Hank McKenna, Bob Murphy is a son born under the sign of the mother. Bob wants to be an ophthalmologist like his mother rather than a cardiologist like his father. While Ben insists Hank must become a doctor rather than a singer or performer, Bobâs last plea for life is a commitment to his father to cut his lengthy, luscious hair, do his chores, and become a cardiologist just like dad. But a last grasp at phallic authority and power becomes a last gasp as Bob pays the price for his fatherâs own impotenceÂč.
Critics of Lanthimos would accuse him, and Michael Haneke, his most pronounced influence, of âa constipated realism that rubs others in their filth while keeping their own hands rigorously pristine.â True, Steven is able to shed the bloody gloves of a botched surgery and throw them away. But to write off Lanthimos (and Haneke) in such a way is to ignore, in addition to crucial parts of their filmmaking practice, their relation to Hitchcock. Lanthimos does not just diagnose social ills, he levels a scathing critique of the way value is assigned to human lives. The way those lives are put into relation is enough to turn anyone into a Martin.
[1] Nicole Kidmanâs Anna Murphy stokes the flames of Stevenâs ego: âThe most logical thing to do is kill a child. We can have another. Well, I know I can. And if you canât, we can always try IVF. But Iâm sure you can.â
from Stories by Miguel Rivera on Medium http://ift.tt/2lJDU6s
The Games of 2017
I am always frustrated by the fact that there is not a larger academic apparatus for the study of video games. I donât mean any new-fangled interactivity studies or any of the sort of work that has been done pushing the envelope of interactive art. That type of work may be extremely valuable, but it is not of interest to me. No, I mean textual analysis of 90s JRPGs. Iâm still waiting for a monograph on Shin Megami Tensei. The world of these games is so rich and the reward, it seems to me, for the scenario writers and graphic artists who pad these games with endless allusions is so pitiful. Their effort deserves recognition and their work deserves study.
But why this sentiment is so important to 2017 is twofold. First, this year began my attempt to correct this oversight in earnest. However, the fruits of those labors wonât appear for a little while now. The second reason, developers gave enthusiasts more material than ever to contemplate. The backlog of games that deserve serious academic papers and monographs have increased. These games, inevitably, become my favorites. Below are the games I enjoyed the most this year. Be advised, spoilers for the various titles follow, although I have attempted to keep them to a minimum.
Nier: Automata
Yoko Taro responded to my inane tweets about my desire to write extensively about Nier: Automata with care and attention. That is to say, with a fav and a follow back. Taro is unquestionably an auteur, and much can be said about both his PR persona and his texts: Nier: Automata is crowning achievement. Automata is a triumph of storytelling, artistry, and gameplay, Platinum Gamesâs intervention on this point being no small contribution to why Automata excels in all the ways Taroâs games usually fail. But failure is par for the course in a Taro title, and each of his games meditate on the idea of failure among the cavalcade of concepts marched in front of the player.
A game with character names such as Hegel, Engels, and Pascal might seem pretentious, but Taro pairs his heady philosophical allusions with an otaku flourish. One need not remark on Automataâs character designâââthere are better and more intelligence people who might remark on its successes and failures. What Automata offers at its core, beyond a superlative gameplay experience, is a worthy intervention into conversations about war, humanity, prejudice, and artificial intelligence.
Automata is a game that is, like almost everything, in dialogue with psychoanalysis. Taro dramatizes primal repression and repetition compulsion. Automataâs closest artistic cousin is Christopher Nolanâs Memento (2000). Leonardâs endlessly repetitive burning of the photograph which might evince he has avenged his (perhaps not even dead) wife his the clear parallel to 2Aâs endlessly repeated murder of 9S. The structure of the android society itself is metonymized by 2Aâs murder of 9S. The truth about the circumstance of the androids, and the pointlessness of their conflict with the machine lifeforms posited as their antagonists, must be concealed. It is just as Leonard says in the closing moments of Memento, âwe all lie to ourselves to be happy.â The nature of that lie is exposed in both Automata and Memento. This insistent question and the answer Automata provides makes the game a triumph.
Persona 5
Iâve already gotten started on my processing of Persona 5. I wrote about it here. That brief engagement with some of Persona 5âs themes does not take us far beyond the first dungeon. I am ashamed to say, despite being at the precipice of the gameâs conclusion, I did not and will not complete it before the year is at an end. However, its substance has already make itself unmistakably clear. Persona 5 is an angry game and engages with the populist dissatisfaction with the status quo that has made itself the most important facet of American political life. The game has more in common with contemporary American politics than one might immediately except. The conclusions the game seems to come to may be unsettling for many players. After all, it is a dissatisfaction with an anodyne liberalism and a hostility to the field of politics as such that has resulted in our current political situation. Persona 5 dramatizes that tension but also is dissatisfied with its own status quo. From the perspective of mechanics, Persona 5 changes so much about the familiar rhythm of Persona 3 and 4. While the carefully crafted dungeons of Persona 5 offer a greater opportunity for exploring the gameâs themes, I found the puzzles frustrating and pointless impediments to my progress.
Still, many of the psychological questions of the Persona series more broadly are strikingly articulated here. The role of desire in politics and sociality is a rich question to explore. But like any good piece of mass-market storytelling in the postmodern era, Persona 5 seems to repudiate the truths it tells in the middle. Desire is transgressive and destructive to the possibility of political and social organization. But the later Persona games are founded on the very idea of the social link. How can the destructive insistence of desire be squared away with the nurturing sociality Persona 5 tries to represent? I guess Iâll have to finish the game to find out.
.hack//G.U. Last Recode
I guess it is a bit unfair to call this game one that belongs on a âbest of 2017â list. But its resonances with some of the greatest art ever created making it too striking to omit. As Atoli begs Haseo to see her as her, and not the avatar of the woman who serves as the locus of Haseoâs libidinal investment, my heart broke in the same way as watching the parallel scene in Alfred Hitchcockâs Vertigo (1958). The theme of the construction of our social identities runs throughout the .hack series. After all, in an MMORPG such a thing is materially true, rather than just allegorically or symbolically. Each player inhabits a created avatar within the constraints of the gameâs code. Thus, Atoli appearing identical to Haseoâs lost love, Shino, isnât the result of the same sort of sinister plot that gave Kim Novak one of her best roles: Judy Barton and Madeleine Elster. But Atoli is to Judy as Shino is to Madeleine, and the drama that unfolds in this tripartite structure (with Haseo and Scottie Ferguson at the middle, respectively) is identical. As Atoli begs for Haseoâs unmediated love, we know such a thing is impossible. Love is always mediated by fantasy. Being mistaken for someone else is as good as any other. G.U. knowingly concedes this point, but gives us a spark of hope for Atoli shattering the constraints of her constructed avatar that has ultimately cursed her with tainted love. Atoli has a power that exceeds the gameâs code, the power to hear the sound of the villainous corruption that infringes on the proper function of The World.
But the love triangle between Haseo, Atoli, and the absent Shino is the least of the interventions .hack//G.U. offers. This game, too, remains unfinished, although I beat the first three titles upon their original release. I am waiting to break into that newly-minted fourth game, entitled Reconnection. But Vertigo as an intertext to G.U. is reason enough for sustained engagement.
Xenoblade Chronicles 2
This game has caused a baffling amount of controversy upon its release. Although the strange appropriation of free-to-play mechanics is frustrating, the game is superlative. The slot-machine aspect of the title is a minor annoyance rather than a reason to abandon the game wholesale. Coming to the game off of G.U. (and my weekly rewatch of Vertigo), I mistakenly attributed this same concern about the construction of identity and particularly the construction of the gender âwomanâ to Xenoblade. The twinned leads of Pyra and Mythra seem to lend themselves to such a reading. But as the game progresses, their narrative function changes. They are two parts of the same whole and the issue of one being seen as simply a poor substitute for the other is never explored. Instead, Xenobladeâs chief concern is memory and self-identity. Thus, we find ourselves back squarely in the realm of Nier: Automata.
The similarities between the questions of the two games are striking, and just as striking is the different ways the two games approach the questions. The subordinated class of Blades (sometimes indistinguishable from humans, save for a glowing crystal somewhere on their body) live an eternal life but are constantly forced to forget. Their memory is only as long as their human companion, called a Driver. Some Blades maintain journals and archives dedicated to the preservation of the lost memories, but most are reborn endlessly with no inkling of what their last life was like. A group of Blades, frustrated by this status quo, make up the rogues gallery. However, by the gameâs conclusion, what is ultimately demystified is the nature of the world itself.
Xenoblade contends with the perennial question of âwho has the right to create life?â and its accompanying gendered anxiety. Such a question extends to one of the more merited controversies accompanying the gameâs releaseâââthe crassness of the character design. In an early scene, the characters have a dust-up about an artificial Blade (Xenoblade Chronicles 2 certainly has the most confused symbolic universe of all the games I have played this year⊠what is the nature of the artificial Blade when ânormalâ Blades must assert their humanity?) and her apparently sexual function. Later, Blades Pyra and Brighid offer harsh words to Driver Tora, the creator of the artificial Blade, Poppi. They take issue with the sexually titillating outfits Tora created for Poppi. Their critique rests on the fact that Poppi should be able to choose her own outfits, and she certainly shouldnât be dressed in such an indecent fashion by the whim of her creator. Of course, Pyra and Brighid are both scantly clad⊠as dictated by their character designer. This contradiction is part of what makes Xenoblade Chronicles 2 so rich. It bumbles its way into self-critique!
This isolated scene, though, connects to Xenobladeâs broader themes about the creation of life. And beyond analyzing the themes, the plot itself is quite fascinating. Xenoblade Chronicles 2 connects to its two predecessors in the Xenoblade series, as well as the Namco owned Xenosaga series and the Squaresoft published Xenogears. These wide-ranging material and thematic connections make the game exceedingly rewarding, especially for long-time fans.
Rich, allusive storytelling had a victory in 2017. New entries into the Nier, Persona, .hack, and Xenoblade series proved that. The relative financial success of each game promises more to come. Someday, I hope every entry into these series will be easily accessible. After all, criticism of Automata is all the more rich with an accompanying close look at Nier (2010). And I would love engage more comprehensively with the connections between Xenoblade and Xenosaga. Maybe next year Iâll have something to write about a Xenosaga HD Collection. Or perhaps I will just have replayed the PS2 games!
from Stories by Miguel Rivera on Medium http://ift.tt/2pOtJlS
Donât Send in The Clowns â A Review of American Horror Story: Cult Episode 1
Is American Horror Story: Cult the television equivalent of Marvelâs Secret Wars event? Fan favorites like Evan Peters are turned into unrepentant fascists, characters like Twisty make unexpected and inexplicable returns, and as nakedly as Cult demonstrates its aspirations toward political commentary it remains unclear what the show is trying to convey. The complexities of the issues Cult is trying to take on may result in a season that is as in poor taste as Secret Wars, especially considering their shared ideological murkiness. Because the show seems to take aim at both Sarah Paulsonâs left-leaning Ally (the name, as AHS always is, is painfully on the nose) and Evan Petersâs Kai, one might accuse Ryan Murphy of false equivalence. And yet, Ally is unquestionably heroic and Kai is unrepentantly villainous. This distinction is important. On a day when DACA is under threat, representing an existential horror far beyond what AHS is artistically equipped to depict, the perspective that âeveryone is worried over nothing, âboth sidesâ need to calm downâ is unwelcome. At least as of the first episode, Iâm not immediately alienated by some poorly thought out centrism.
While Cult is a high risk (and, perhaps, low reward) proposition, it gets a lot right. I found this episode inspiring fear and dread in excess of other seasons of AHS. Itâs not just the political drama, either. Peters is a menace on the screen, chewing scenery, firing off nonsensical diatribes, and committing heinous acts. The sinister nanny is also a powerful fear-generating machine. The powerlessness of Ally and Ivy to intervene on the life of their child and protect him from this intrusion is profoundly unsettling. But beyond on that, itâs slick camera work and memorable costuming that does the job. The monstrous clowns that terrorize Ally and her son and commit suburban murders are as striking as the returning Twisty.
Iâm appreciative that the show verified Allyâs encounters with the clowns as ârealâ as opposed to long-playing the possibility of hallucination. Horror rarely treats mental illness with the nuance it deserves and Cult is no exception. Allyâs condition played up as an isolation based horror is crass, and her treatment by both the narrative and the other characters is unconscionable. The quicker the show decides to pivot away from this hackneyed plot device, the better.
Overall, Iâm intrigued by what is on offer with this season of AHS. I donât expect any groundbreaking political commentary. For some, that might be enough reason to dismiss the show at best or argue it should have never been made at worst. Iâm sympathetic to those arguments. But thereâs something about the craft of this first episode that has grabbed me. And I appreciate seeing the naked fascism of Kai on screen, rendered as incoherently and unsympathetically as it deserves. But I shudder to think what other viewers might take away from Murphyâs glib and over-the-top depiction of the entire political spectrum. The fact that Kai might affirm or embolden some white supremacist is a horror of which I donât need to be reminded.
from Stories by Miguel Rivera on Medium http://ift.tt/2f1psnd
What does science know? Lacan against positivism in his lost seminar, âOn the Names-of-the-Fatherâ
When I think about the Google Anti-Diversity memo that is circulating, I canât help but think of Jacques Lacanâs complicated relationship with science and how his ideas serve to contradict the foundation on which James Damore, the author of the memo, might claim to know anything at all.
To provide some context, in 1963, on the wrong end of the SociĂ©tĂ© Française de Psychanalyse, one of his most groundbreaking seminars, âOn the Names-of-the-Father,â was interrupted by his demotion from the position of didacticien.
Drawing a stark distinction between psychology as a tool of maintaining the status quo and psychoanalysis as, among other things, a tool to elucidate the subject and resolve symptomatic behavior, Lacan writes:
In the positivist perspective, intelligence is but one affect among others, based on the hypothesis of intelligibility. This justifies a psychology of Tarot card readers, which is concocted in places that are supposedly freest from this kind of claptrap: endowed university chairs. [To positivists,] affect, conversely, is thus merely an obscure form of intelligence.
What escapes people who study such teachings is the obscurantism to which they are subjected. We know what it leads to: to the ever more intentional undertakings of a technocracy; to the psychological standardization of subjects who are seeking jobs; and to acceptance of the established boundaries of society as it currently exists, head bent forward under the weighty standard of the psychologist.
I say that the meaning of Freudâs discovery is radically opposed to that. (âOn theâŠâ 60â61)
At the beginning of the seminar, one can hear Lacanâs frustration as his analysand-like confession of momentary disgrace is conveyed to his students.
But this quotation goes beyond frustration and beyond the discipline of psychology and the practice of psychoanalysis. Lacanâs critique of positivism and the technocracy it would precipitate reflect how Lacan sees scientific knowledge and how he might envision psychoanalysis as a science. For Lacan, science is formalized but has little to do with knowledge. Scienceâs exclusive claim to knowledge is a fantasy.
We see that in Lacanâs critique here. Lacan disputes the hypothesis of intelligibility, claiming that any psychology that purports to offer insight into an individualâs value by indexing their intelligence is tantamount to, Lacanâs cultural insensitivity aside, baseless speculation. Lacan calls psychologyâs practice of making an inventory of an individualâs traits, strengths, and weaknesses, obscurantism. For all the ways psychology claims to give a clear picture about a given person, it obscures what is most important about the subject for Lacan: that they know nothing.
Furthermore, as stated above, Lacan believes psychoanalysis is a practice that can scrutinize systems of knowledge rather than anything that can claim to be knowledge itself. This coincides with Lacanâs constant refrain that psychoanalysis is not an ontology. For Lacan, psychologyâs function as a tool of hiring, firing, and social control is antithetical to psychoanalysisâs insurgent potential.
Bruce Fink explicates an aspect of Lacanâs relationship to science quite well in his 2002 essay, âKnowledge and Jouissance.â Fink writes:
Modern science, for example, is ostensibly about measurements and the production of âhard facts,â and thus virtually the entire American psychological establishment has enlisted itself in the production of measures and statistics of all kinds.
But is that the kind of scientificity that psychoanalysis can hope to achieve or even wish to achieve? The APA Monitor, the main organ of the American Psychological Association, occasionally lists which aspects of Freudâs theories have been borne out by empirical research: of course, when we consider what they have reduced Freudâs theories to in order to test them, and then examine the research design they have come up with to test such watered-down theories, we may well wonder whether the supposed confirmations are of any more value than the alleged refutations!
According to Lacan, this is not at all the kind of scientificity at which psychoanalysis must aim: to his mind, psychoanalysis is not currently a science, and it is not by going in that direction that it will become one. âIt is not what is measured in science that is important, contrary to what people thinkâ (Seminar XX, 116/128). (Fink 27)
Here, we can see again the conflict between psychoanalysis and psychology, ranging from the Société Française de Psychanalyse which made itself accountable to associations of psychology and thus censured Lacan and the APA Monitor.
Fink goes on to say of Lacanâs view of Antiquityâs view of knowledge (a mouthful, I know), âAll knowledge at that time, participated, in Lacanâs words, âin the fantasy of an inscription of the sexual linkâ (Seminar XX, 76/82) ⊠The relation between knowledge and the world was consubstantial with a fantasy of copulationâ (Fink 28). Lacan goes on to criticize the position of his psychoanalytic contemporaries, suggesting that the fantasy of copulation has given way to the always-in-the-distance potential for harmony between âthe sexes.â If we seem far afield from the initial point, or perhaps dangerously close to sharing Damoreâs position that the gender of man and the gender of woman are inherently different, that would not be Lacanâs position. Lacanâs argument of harmony as a fantasy is not one of inherent difference between individuals assigned whatever gender at birth. Lacan believes that sex has nothing to do with biology, but rather a given psychic structure.
What is important here is Lacanâs conception of the âunknowing subjectâ and formalization over knowledge. Damore represents the scientific position of a potential harmony between two genders if these two genders are understood as totally bifurcated and biologically determined. Lacan subverts this position by deploying the unknowing subject and attempting to eliminate the fantasy of harmony, a harmony that is only possible through an acknowledgement of fundamental biological difference, a claim which Lacan consistently refutes in every bit of his work. Fink gives Lacanâs reasoning for extolling Freudâs deployment of Oedipus in his work, âOedipus was ⊠a perfect model for the unknowing subject, for a subject who acts without knowing why, in any conscious sense of the word âknowing.â From the vantage point of psychoanalysis, âThereâs no such thing as a knowing subjectâ (Seminar XX, 114/126) says Lacanâ (Fink 30).
According to Fink, Lacan contends that one of the most important aspects of Freudâs discovery of the unconscious is that unconscious knowledge is totally inaccessible to the subject. Fink goes on to say, âLacan is generally suspicious of the wholeâ (Fink 31). The wholeness of a world inhabited by individuals in âtheir proper placeâ is a fantasy that Lacan abhors.
It is not that Lacan is opposed to science itself, but how science can be said to relate to knowledge and truth. Lacan writes in âBeyond the âReality Principleââ from Ecrits (1966), âI am not playing at being paradoxical by claiming that science need know nothing about truth ⊠But truth in its specific value remains foreign to the order of scienceâ (Ecrits 63). As Lacan attempted to move psychoanalysis toward a system of mathematical formalization, with his convoluted âmathemes,â he embraced a version of science that does not have an exclusive claim to truth or knowledge and, in fact, cannot definitely produce either.
Doesnât science itself, without Lacan, put the lie to Damoreâs authority? Doesnât it undercut the value of the cries of his supporters that his sexist memo is âscience!â So what? Empirical research on human behavior provides the tentative and possible rather than the definitive and uncontestable. From a colloquial understanding of science, studies contradict themselves infinitely. They are only worth as much as their research methodology. Scientific positivism can only offer contingent knowledge. Results that simply await dispute by the next study.
Lacanâs longtime editor, Jacques Alain-Miller, would write of âOn the Names-of-the-Fatherâ:
Having concluded from his tribulations that âpsychoanalytic discourseâ had not authorized him to lift, as he had intended, the veil Freud had cast over the true mainspring of psychoanalysis, and that he had been struck down for his sacrilegious act, he signaled, in a word to the wise, in particular in the ironic title that he gave to a later Seminar, Les non-dupes errent, that he would keep close to his chest truths that were too tempestuous.
Ultimately, though Lacanâs fate might appear to share some commonalities with Damore despite their fundamental ideological disagreement, there is a critical distinction between the professional failings of the two. Lacan was momentarily discredited for doing complex, difficult work that defied the understanding of the psychoanalytic establishment. Primarily it was his practice of the variable length session that led to his censure. Damore, on the other hand, has uncritically deployed so-called scientific material to fall back on the fantasy of wholeness that numbers and mathematization can provide.
Above all, what âOn the Names-of-the-Fatherâ and Finkâs âKnowledge and Jouissanceâ demonstrate is the importance of Lacanian psychoanalysis today. Lacan offers unparalleled insights into the nature of knowledge, science, and psychology: brutally critiquing them all. And yet Lacan seeks to redefine psychoanalysis in the terms of a science that would prioritize formalization over knowledge. It is Lacanâs challenge to science that broadly refutes Damoreâs claim of authority. Just like the poor empirical research of the APA Monitor in relation to Freud, individual examination of Damoreâs citation make his argument similarly spicious. But beyond this broad, epistemological challenge to Damore and others like him, Lacan can also serve to contract Damoreâs vision of gender concretely through his ideas of sexuation and disharmony.
from Stories by Miguel Rivera on Medium http://ift.tt/2v2eqDd
âWhatever you want to do, I will support you foreverâ: Fatherhood and Festival in DJ KhaledâsâŠ
âWhatever you want to do, I will support you foreverâ: Fatherhood and Festival in DJ Khaledâs Grateful
When fatherâs day rolled around, I was just finishing up a video game called Samurai Warriors: The Spirit of Sanada (2017). I planned to write about it in conjunction with my thinking on fatherhood and family, as I found the story of the historical Sanada family quite compelling and delivered deftly by the game. However, I didnât write the essay. A partial draft exists that may someday emerge or be completed. But for now, that idea serves as scaffolding to my thinking about DJ Khaled and his most recent album, Grateful (2017).
Samurai Warriors: The Spirit of Sanada (2017)
The story of The Spirit of Sanada was one of legacy and purpose. A dedicated father, Masayuki, violated military and social conventions to build something he could leave to his children, Yukimura and Nobuyuki. Masayuki died in exile with his son Yukimura, with Nobuyuki carrying on the Sanada clan facing suspicion and hostility. Khaled, like Masayuki, is building something with Grateful for his son. To that end, Khaled has been extremely successful.
Khaled and Asahd
Grateful is an enormous improvement over its predecessor, Major Key (2016). While both Major Key and Grateful are packed with unexpected features and unique artist pairings, Major Key comes off like a disorganized slog whereas Grateful, despite clocking in at 23 tracks to Major Keyâs 14, feels like the celebration you would expect getting all these artists together. There are a lot of questions about what DJ Khaledâs talents actually are and what he brings to these albums brimming with accomplished artists and producers. I think what is clear in Grateful is that Khaled has creative concepts and can bring out unique strengths in the artists he features. For instance, in âDown For Life,â Khaled masterfully directs PARTYNEXTDOOR in the hook to bring an energy to the track that PND isnât known for. PND is followed by Future and then Travis Scott delivering a smoragsboard of autotuned crooners that demonstrates the legitimacy of the program yet again. A few songs earlier, on âDonât Quitâ (featuring Calvin Harris along with Travis Scott and Jeremih) Khaled has Travis exploring his vocal range to great success. Travis Scott has never sounded less like himself.
Travis Scott and Khaled
Khaled, too, is unafraid to experiment with a number of unfamiliar musical influences. On the Drake assisted âTo the Max,â Khaled samples the Vine hit âGus Get Em Rightâ by Jay-O, which in turn samples T2âs âHeartbroken.â Khaledâs pastiche of Miami âjookâ music is welcome for me as a listener, potential socio-cultural negatives bracketed for the moment. Likewise, the standout âI Love You So Muchâ featuring Chance the Rapper borrows from New Orleans bounce. These interruptions and insertions into the otherwise conventional pattern of pop-rap make Grateful feel like something truly unique. More than that, these songs pose a challenge to the conventionality of prospective radio singles.
âdid the Drake vocals come in yet?â
The record is a thrill, revealing new sides to itself and familiar artists as it proceeds. But the running strain of fatherhood and the frequently credited Asahd Khaled (DJ Khaledâs infant son who is credited with executive producing the album and whose gurgling can be heard on the albumâs last song) grounds the cavalcade of features and music styles. It is on the aforementioned âI Love You So Muchâ where Khaledâs approach to the album is most clear. Khaled has a larger-than-usual vocal presence on the track along with Chanceâs refrains about his family. Khaled speaks affirmations to his infant son, calling him a legend, an icon, and a mogul. Meanwhile, Chance sings the ABCs and sampled vocals direct Asahd to identify his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.
As I listen to this song and look at the various images of Asahd on the album artwork, I struggle with my own cynicism. Am I irritated with Khaledâs deployment of his 8 month old son as the crux of a crass marketing scheme, or deeply stirred by this open display of fatherly affection? Ultimately, I come down feeling the latter. Khaled seems to be speaking something into the world for his son. Building not just an empire of large houses, cars, money, and a music career, but a castle of self-esteem for Asahd, born into a hostile world. Khaledâs disposition toward his son is a more immediately admirable variation of how Lavar Ball speaks about his sons, or how Kanye West asserts his own value. But I find something to love in DJ Khaled and Lavar Ball, even if their love for their sons is inseparable from money making schemes that deploy those same sons as the advertising copy. For DJ Khaled, at least, it seems a fundamental truth about his love for his son is spoken in the words of âI Love You So Much.â
Khaled says to his son âYouâre amazing, youâre handsome, youâre incredible, youâre a genius ⊠thereâs nothing you canât do.â We can only hope to give the people we care about the same warm affirmations.
from Stories by Miguel Rivera on Medium http://ift.tt/2t7GDfw