soihere

Ashraf Abu Talib

[soihere]

Mantra Mantra  

Kunto Aji

Publishing Date: 14/2/19

mantra /ˈmantrə/

noun

a word or sound repeated to aid concentration in meditation.

Listening is an art, done many times but practiced only a few. By means of the heart, listening becomes a tool that guides the ebbing currents into a stream. As it’s shown, and to be seen. Building upon the themes of self-awareness and passion introduced in his debut album, Generation Y, Kunto Aji’s second album provides a continuation of ever insightful reflections on the individual, the nuances of our self-identity, and ultimately its position within our modern society. As seen on the cover, the album is a creative dissection on the topic of mental health that has become an unavoidable spotlight of the times. Capturing a familiar contrast of the exterior to the interior that’s exceedingly prevalent in society today, the album unveils the masks of the individual with a reflective tone of honesty - untangling the winding thoughts of the mind and the paralysis of over analysis. However, respecting the silencing sensitivities and stigma, the album provides an empathetic and therapeutic perspective on mental health that sees to heal as much as it reveals. As a result, the album is a thoughtful, artistic and forgiving meditation on the notion of control, appreciating the present, and ultimately, what it means to love the life of/and one’s self.

An overarching theme that colours the album is the elusive yet omnipresent notion of control - be it of the world or self. Or both. Control It’s often conceived that control is something that binds us to the multitude of other things in life. Our reality by our wants, our dreams by our reality, the world by our perceptions; the power to manipulate one thing by the influence of another - our happiness by society. However, this perception of control can be viewed to be from a singular perspective, whereas the album deconstructs this notion of control in showing that we seldom realise that control can often work both ways - if we choose. Rather than control being something imposed wholly on an individual, instead it is a concept that we equally have a hand/responsibility over; arguing that the hand is as tied to the kite as much as the kite is tied to the hand. “Cukupkanlah ikatanmu, relakan yang tak seharusnya untukmu”.  Viewing control as something not to be attained but instead, to be guided by the hands of fate the album suggests that what is only perceived to be right and true may not reflect what is best in time when removed.

The album then extends on this philosophy by viewing it in the larger context of the universe and fate. “Dikatakan awan hitam sebelum datangnya hujan, biarlah aku dikutuk dan engkau dirayakan”. On the track ‘Saudade’, which encapsulates the grandiosity of the album, the play of grand, natural imagery being personified also extends the human fallacies wrestled with, as one woven into the nature of the universe as well, allowing and introducing a much larger and retroscoptive lens to reflect on. Thus, by encouraging the listener to redefine what is meant/best for one’s self, the album consoles the listener in the freedom of accepting that in our worlds we perceive and thus create, “yang sebaiknya kau jaga, adalah dirimu sendiri”.

The album, however, doesn’t solely rest on accepting the tension between the past and future. Untangling the practice of overthinking and over-analysis in our society that insists on imposing the unfitting realities of others onto our own, the album reimagines the state and prerequisites of acceptance. Rather, striving for peace and happiness lives within contentment and an appreciation of the present and all that it brings - good and bad. This can be seen to be cleverly illustrated on the track Rancang Rencana; “lihat gelasmu, kau habiskan dulu... esok kita singkap takdir”. Using the glass of water as a symbolic metaphor to represent our optimistic or pessimistic perceptions of our reality, the artist responds by suggesting that perhaps the solution first lies in seeing beyond our own perceptions. Reminding and being mindful of the immediate present and task, the album implores on the idea of immersing oneself in completing the present in order to then face the future.

Yet, of the many influential and impressive aspects present in the album, it is in the way in which the ideas are conveyed and presented that the album shows a depth of artistic intuition. By integrating the constructive elements of the genre with the overall message, when inspected, each track in the album can be seen to be thoughtfully constructed to truly provide listeners with an appreciation of the experience, as much as the content. Concise, poetic, and honest, the lyrics in the album paint a larger picture with less; the strong use of anaphoric and structural repetition in the album creates a sense of familiarity and thus comfort in its minimalism. In effect, where traditionally wandering convulations would cloud the mind, simple and clear lines replace it to instead uncluster and define. However, the use of repetition that’s known infamously known for its excessive use in pop music could also suggest a symbolic and ironic subversion of negative cultural norms in general. By recontextualising and repurposing negative practices into a space of introspection, be it the overexposure, sensationalization or perhaps overcrowding of the mind, repetition then becomes a tool to build a sense of confidence and acceptance by digesting slowly what is already known.

Best listened at night, where we truly feel, at the end of our days, the swaying tempo and calming echoes provide an ever-expansive space for reflection. Most notable and encapsulated at the end of the track ‘Rehat’, within the dynamic orchestration of the instrumentation, each sound can be heard from its place, singular in its form and movement, complementary in its time and arrival. Layered on top of one another, the subtle changes flow in a continuous stream but leaving nothing too hard to catch, too complex to notice, or overbearing to accept.

Amidst the attractions and distractions of the world, the troubles that bind us to the past or future, the album invites us to where we’ve always been - the present. In searching for what our heart desires, or finding the root to all our fires, the album shows that burdens of our reality can only exist as far as we choose to let it. Though the world may not agree with our own dreams, expectations and ideals, but perhaps it’s never meant to. Meditating on the limits of the external realities, the album thus expands on the need to love and care for what lives within, as one can only truly give as much as one has.

8.5/10

[soihere]

SPACEMAN

Octavian

Publishing Date: 22/9/18

A multi-dimensional voyage into a world where sorrow, revenge, and triumph coalesece as different sides to a singular crux - realising and defining one’s own time and space in the universe. 

Acclaimed London artist/rapper Octavian has seen and been through all that the streets of London could have taught him. A rebel from the get-go, the unorthodox style and curative ability represented through his music, however, serves a greater reflection of his nomadic adolescence, and unsettling rise to recognition. Along the way, however, the universe reciprocated back to the eclectic underdog with a co-sign from the notorious wave-catching fisherman of music, Drake, followed by a frenzy of other accredited icons of the times such as Virgil Abloh, Skepta, Stormzy, just to name a few. Yet, it seems that he's still one of the music scenes best-kept secret of 2018.  

Following onto the spotlight given, he made sure to capitalize on the golden opportunity by releasing a string of catchy singles - distinct in their own styles -, that show his potential to not only make people move but also blend elements from the soundscapes of different genres into a vivid world and space of its own. With his debut album, he approaches the same concept and notion of rejecting homogeneity - in art and thinking alike - by offering listeners a “void of introspection” that deftly captures and confronts the true experience of defining one’s place in the universe; done in a manner and attitude that’s viscerally captivating in it’s acceptance of reality but also inspiring perception of it. 

By redefining the album title from ‘Revenge’ to ‘SPACE(MAN)’, despite its clear affiliation to the earlier, the album itself could perhaps be Octavian’s own inspiring review of the struggles and frustrations coming up; turning the brewing negativity that was imposed onto people like himself, into, instead, a positive philosophy of endurance and fate. 

If music could be played in space, this would definitely be an Astronauts soundtrack. Tinged with an unmistakeable existential paranoia; hedonistic at times, whilst brightly introspective at others, the tracks in the album seem to effortlessly coalesce an array of emotions and moods into a singular experience. Where blood craving vengeance is met with sorrowful empathy and retrospection, Octavian is nonchalantly two-stepping around the room as his body is guided by the sporadic movement of his thoughts. To categorize and define the sounds would be a fruitless attempt when so many influences are intertwined at the intersection itself. Though the enduring spirit of garage, dancehall, and grime are more apparent, tints of indie, trap, and electronic music appear to glare at the peripheries. 

Tracks such as ‘Stand Down’, ‘Build’, ‘Move Faster’ offer heartfelt wisdom that sets a much needed melancholy in the tone of the album, whilst more direct hits such as ‘Revenge’, ‘54321′, and ‘Break That’ save the album from being timid in it’s own darkness. Nevertheless, it’s his unique ability to effortlessly switch and blend both rap and singing into a melodic stream of words that carries the weight of most tracks. The catchy texture of his coarse yet soothening crooning articulates a rawness and pain that feels at times reflective in its unwinding melancholy.

Switching from one mood to another in the span of a 2-minute track is an impressive feat, but to those unaccustomed to it, its a unique characteristic of his music that can perhaps be a difficult but rewarding task to understand. Luckily, however, the nocturnal album’s addictive nature sends for a second invitation to listeners, with a selection of tracks and sounds that play seamlessly into a night of contemplation or wreaking havoc. Unforgiving, ambitious and self - conscious, the debut album aptly characterizes UK’s prodigal star, showing promise and an artistic maturity that might just see him set an unprecedented wave and break down borders in the grandest revenge against the world.

7.8/10

[soihere]

REBEL

Aman Ra

Publishing Date: 27/8/18

“ From the flat to the rooftop - the modern folklore that tells it all for the generations to come who survive by rebelling against the odds of the city.”

Almost 10 years into the game, Aman Ra is no stranger to the trials and tribulations of hip-hop’s underground scene, slowly but steadily surfacing into the mainstream soundscape - if not already having set the wave culturally. Though an orphan raised in the projects of Keramat, deprived of the basic luxuries of life, the tales and spirit breathing throughout the album, however, permeates with a rich vividness of the urbanite’s jungle. Here to tell the story, Aman Ra started by blasting through with a series of prominent track releases and features with notable pop acts. But the unspoken promises of the long-awaited album finally arrives with a much-needed interpolation of the classic rap narrative to the cityscape of Malaysia’s own hoods; emanating with a contextual wit and unrivaled bravado that carves him into the pantheon of Malaysian hip-hop as a rap icon in his own right. 

With the opening track ‘Bangun’, the album begins with the inner whispers and prayers of the album’s prominent character, the BudakFlat, chasing the dream of a life greater than life itself. However, as someone who’s seen and been through it all, Aman Ra skilfully transitions between taking both the roles of OG and hustler - sometimes both at once - as he guides the listener through a determined and insightful confrontation of the everyday struggle. Summoning a sense of communal hardship - collective responsibility and thus empowerment -, however, the track also simultaneously appropriates the ‘come up’ through the vernacular understood and felt by those torn between both the streets and traditional culture in a way that embodies the spirit and burgeoning ethos of hip-hop at it’s prime infancy; marking a promising and inspiring rebirth of hip-hop in Malaysia fulfilled through the definitions of it’s own socio-cultural lens - as it should be.

Blending together the inescapable trap sound with the boastful shakings of house, at it’s most promising, the album exemplifies the balanced dynamics between the past, present, and future; in sound, wisdom, and demeanor. Notable tracks such as ‘Malu Tanya Sesat’, ‘Rap Tak Ingat’, and ‘BudakFlat’ for example, successfully imbues a layer of lyrical depth and philosophy underneath the luring soundscape designed to trap listeners into the streams of subliminal flow. Articulated in defined honesty; the questions of destiny and fate, triumph and temptations, adversary and comradery - the winding thoughts and twistings of the heart, that greets us every day. Compromising on neither artistry and appeal, the album deftly rearranges the forefront within the background of history, as it attests by making a classic of the new. 

With the duplicity reminiscent of 2Pac, the albums focal point returns with the character but also the greater archetype of the BudakFlat that Aman Ra both uplifts and expands by showing a streak of versatility and variety felt vitally lacking in the representation of those initially portrayed 1-Dimensional street hustlers. On more introspective and light-hearted rhythms of tracks such as ‘Berada’, ‘Tabah’, ‘Cinta atau Cita-Cita’, he connects with an admirable honesty and vulnerability rarely recorded in close proximity to the stark contrast of a seemingly more unforgiving side of himself. Nevertheless, it’s the figurative distance created that binds the album together into an eye-opening window into the multifaceted nature of humanity. Allowing us the opportunity to appreciate the identity characterized, and now defined, by its differences.  

“Apa seharusnya, aku berkarya demi budak rap? Atau seharusnya, aku angkat martabat budak flat.”

Narrowed and boxed into a caricature, underground rappers, Budak flat, and all those mistaken for either of them, have always leaned on one another amidst convoluted underdog psychosis. As the album and its messenger attest, however, there is no paved concrete road in the jungle. To the hard-headed, ill-willed, wind-hearted, the album procures an equally fulfilling testimony of self-acclaimed status and arrival to the dreams of back when. Being able to reach a level of commercial success and appeal, whilst retaining a perceivable authenticity to the roots of the still growing scene, Aman Ra finds the often amiss footing between artistic integrity and the artistic courage to redefine the tides of the mainstream.

Alas, to declare it a historic contribution to the growth of hip-hop on Malaysia would be too early to tell. Though, the inspiring ethos and spirit reverberating from the album provide for an insightful vantage point for how far the music has progressed - both sonically and in its narrative -, but more importantly, the future possibilities and hope of a time to claim from rap, our own.  

7.6/10

[soihere]

Streams of Thought, Vol.1

Black Thought

Publishing Date: 9/7/18

“ A verbose proverb exercising lyricism through the lens of black thought ”

Honorary scholar «          Lyrical guardian, philosopher, psychologist and intellectual,  Tariq “Black Thought” Trotter serves a gushing plentiful; rivers of poignancy and craftsmanship that embellishes the apexes of artistry. With worded notions of elevated ethereal idiosyncracies as mere commodities, a returning voyage through the dimensions in convoluted thought of black reality. 

The Reinvention ®Following the infamous 10-min freestyle on Funk Flex Hot97, for many of those in the rap genre it was an awing   introduction to a standard or plateau of lyricism and experience that drew attention to its limitless possibilities in storytelling and craftsmanship in flow. However, the incident also drew an indefinite line contrasting the different ages of hip-hop and rap. Tapping into a diverse plethora of bars in rotation, the latest release from the Root’s crew frontman positions himself at the forefront of an inevitably heated and growing  debate;  “Are lyrics still appreciated?” - Beyond however, the tales of miraculous come ups diverge into streams of thought  as he dissect the roots of the dilemmas.  

Free-style.

If anything is most apparent from the reignition of Black Thought’s lyrical exhibition, it’s that mastery and art of flow and thought is one unparalleled in capacity and possibilities. Evident throughout the tracks as he asserts his lyrical prowess, golden nuggets of insight come in the form of quick-witted,  dexterous wordplay. and of the most neccessary braggadocious declarations of deserving status. On the track “9th vs Thought”, the bolded exclamation mark of the album, vehicular assonance and intertwining rhymes elevate an arching cohesion of what would be a fragmented narrative. Yet, it is in the delivery that is set free that the words and claims find themselves in the purpose of unfiltered, unrestricted freedom - as thoughts.

9th’s Wonder ª 

Distinct in its own right much like it’s counterpart, the production of 9th Wonder’s bulging kicks and claps of the beat establish an atmosphere that puts both the rapper and listener in an arena head to head together. Though duly dismissed in certain tracks such as “Dostoevsky”, inherent in it’s driven ruthlessness is a dynamic between production and content that’s binding and oft disjointed in both the old and new schools of hip-hop. With a side facing in both directions, the production of 9th deftly shadows the gallant strikes of Black Thought,  drawing another dimension that leaves listeners and rappers alike uppercutted.

   Reeducation ¡

Though what would be Tariq without black Thought, and thus  thought without it’s wisdom?  Through and between the eclectic lyricism of his pen, however, also lies an insightfully observant mind elevating, as well as highlighting, rap’s consciousness to those that overlook in ignorance. Even amidst the flamboyant execution on ‘9th vs Thought’, there’s still a depth to unravel beyond the surface, a deeper commentary speaking to the troubles and triumphs of overcoming systematic failures of the socio-political climate. With the astute wordplays projecting a stunning fascination of it, it’s the underlying ethos behind it all, reflecting the historical significance of hip-hop as a platform for free black men,  that has aligned Tariq as a representative/living embodiment of what made hip-hop and rap the mode for freedom - out of oppression.   Frustrated,  these tracks provide a cathartic release to one of rap’s critically acclaimed vocalist in the wake of a deafening silence. Concluding his abrupt resurfacing, he bows out in ‘Thank You’ with a gratitude and appreciation to all the experiences, good, and bad that has been uprooted throughout the course of the EP.  From all the frustration, anger, disappointment,  and sorrow, a compassionate acceptance was born, in thanks to the maturation process that has made the man known today.  For the rapper growing only wiser, the succinct EP amalgamates into a verbose proverb reflecting the elements of his shine, upon the stones that built it; ‘Black Thought’. - Tariq Trotter.

7.8 /10 

[soihere]

Selamat Tinggal Pujaan

Kugiran Masdo

Publishing Date: 23/6/18

“Geng Pak Maon merancak menuju  zaman indie terbaru! ”

Born from the ashes of a dwindling indie scene and the remnants of antiquated nostalgia,  the debut album ‘Selamat Tinggal Pujaan’ marks the triumphant finale and beginning of Malaysia’s newest music revolt. After years of touring, nurturing, and grooming, the already infamous band delivers a fully furnished course into the cheeky ‘irama’ of the 60s, and the earliest beginnings of musical rebellion in Malaysian music. To a generation mooned after the burning presence of indie music almost a decade ago, it’s a refreshing twist into the past, in what seems to be bringing hope of a brighter future. Catapulting the same sentiment into another wave of frenzy by reinventing indie music, in stitching elements of nostalgia and sentiments of indie solidarity through the sacred and enshrined genre of “Pop Yeh Yeh”, the band’s infectious debut album is a promising statement on how adaptive songwriting can rejuvenate the life that the music brings, and re-store it’s value into the new generation of the times. Even with the finely executed production behind the album, nestled with delightfully trivial idiosyncrasies nodding in homage to its inspiration, Masdo emanates in spectacular fashion when they continuously outperform themselves on live stages. With covers of old classics, exuberant interludes, and distinctly dated dance moves, the band carries a bag full of beaming energy that fuels an unsatiable hunger of youth - filling a unique niche both sonically and  as musicians.  Loud, brash, and unforgiving in its witty cheekiness,  the band and their shows alike do anything but shy away from the recklessness of it all, taking the pride and mocking humour of it all in good faith - even with all it’s seeming and questionable flaws. With every reason to cringe away from it, the music becomes inexorably more enticing in its bravado.  It’s a newly born culture that has remarkably found a home in the tireless rowdiness of the youth today. Perhaps, the mix of modern innocence and giddy naughtiness of old romantic fantasia love has amused young listeners in good humour. But in the process, it has also indefinitely snatched their hearts in star-gazing awe by the smirking truth of it all. 

With  tracks such as ‘Malam Pesta Rock & Roll’ , ‘Miss Flower’, and ‘Bercanda di Malam Indah’, the gleeful escapism that comes with the easily catchy and rhythmic beat of the songs makes the cheeky vices of youthhood almost palpable.  Even in between the crudely twisted, olden, raw tongue that sings upfront, it’s the exaggerated delusion of it all chanting towards listeners that catches the front seat of each track in the album. The joyous restlessness of the drums, brazen echoing of the guitars, and playful bounce of the bass only bring to the fore the true cohesive force of attraction in the album. It’s the infamous and timid ‘jiwang’ spirit that stream through even our own narratives, offering a  cathartic confession of the unspoken woes and wonders of our vices that we seldom admit, or submit to, until now.  Amidst all the infectious buzz  and sparking of their music, there’s also a deep affection and admirable introspection that balances the album from falling off on it’s wheels.  As felt by track such as ‘Bunga’ and the aptly conclusive ‘Kecundang ’, the music also effectively captures the soulful elements that often gets negated by the stereotyped bruteness and unpolished nature of music from the past.  They’ve successfuly convinced a whole generation into participating into the greatest stunt of a plot “twist”. But the bigger question continues to linger at the helm of the ship as the wave slowly rides into the shore. The tragic and repeated foretelling would be that like many iconic acts of their time, they’re legacy will be cemented as merely a bright ‘moment’ in Malaysian music history.  However,  as others would attest as well, it has been the resilience and evolution of the mightiest bands such as Hujan that has prevailed their relevance and influence. Masdo has indefinitely ignited a revolutionary shift in attitude, and the album only cements this into history. But should the hamartia of their novelty turn into stagnancy, their future could be as black and white as their beginnings.

8/10

[soihere]

Lost & Found

Jorja Smith

Publishing Date: 2/7/18

“A soulful search wandering to and fro between self-acceptance and vulnerability.”

2 years have passed swiftly since the breakout single of what is still an awe-struck 21 yr old RnB prodigé from  Walsall. Moving to London at the age of 18, she sprung into a whirlwind of attention with the infamous commentary of ‘Blue Lights’, whilst still working her part-time job at Starbucks. Displaying illuminating lyricism on topics of police brutality and youth disenfranchisement, she was destined to be a greater star than anyone would’ve thought to buck.  And for the next two years of her tendering youth, a blinding halo followed wherever she went in her rise to insatiable fame.  Appearing on notably successful projects such as ‘Insecure’, to seemingly nonchalant collaborations with established and rising household names such as Drake,  Kendrick, Kali Uchis, and her British affiliates such as Stormzy and Preditah,  it was as if she had the Midas touch.   Still, it was the debut album that awaited. With a myriad of songs, features, and buzz centered around the people around her, it’s  no surprise her own introduction  is a reflective one.  Navigating the worlds that exist outside and within, the narrative  shifts from casting shine to the neglects of perception, to melting the tough loves of affection.  The notion of being lost and found is one profoundly innate and universal, an apt marking of her music’s appeal. Yet in the guise of breaking expectations and mending anticipation, it leaves the impression of an artist being and lost and found in another sense instead; painting a journey that feels unarticulated and artistically undeveloped to both the listener and artist itself.

“Moving on from being heartbroken and dependent to selfishly/carelessly self-focused. After diving into her independence, realises the ever-present fallacies that still exist - dealing with the conflict of the inner self. Relapsing into love, refining the pains of accepting the longevity sought, between or within.” In her journey where she’s “constantly finding herself”, she notedly embarks with a warm optimism and unbridled brightness. The tranquility exulting off of the title track captures a minimal ambiance in soul, and a gallant contrast in the refined breeze of instrumentals and gripping lyrics. A captured glimpse into the newfound, naked vulnerability dressed modestly in simplicity. Setting the scene for the story to unravel, earlier tracks in the album fondle over the sentiment of savoring the fruits of youth (”I’m in love with the thought of you”), finding peace in the outside world through the lens of one’s self first. In the track “Where Did I Go?”, the nonchalant wrapping of existential dilemmas sees Jorja reflect an ethos to the message that can often feel absent in other tracks alike. An agency, acceptance, and power over the twining feelings that be. Unfortunately, the rest of the album is left to be complacent with the drownings of unrivaled sorrow and wallowing ache - a mould that suffocates the spirit of the album far too often.  On tracks such as Wandering Romance, February 3rd, and Tomorrow, the repetitive wailing and creeping falsettos ultimately closes in on her exploration for distinction in finding, or even losing, herself. Pale and eerie, they more than often seem to come off as auditions for a Bond theme, created in the same studio session. Finding her self trapped by traditional ballads that overhaul on any balance - losing stick and going bland - and restrict the compelling shifts in mood, attitude, or approach within her sense of exploration, the less adventurous soundscapes of the album find her reserved and stunned in the motions; shying away from the exposition of its interactions with the self that she deftly articulates seemingly everywhere elsewhere. As evident by tracks such as The One and Goodbyes that reflect the awaited depth and breadth of the album’s thesis, it’s the expansive songwriting and symbiotic contrast between lyricism and sonics that exemplify her ability to draw another axis and extrapolate;  drawing listeners into another dimension of introspection; inviting another lens to envision our own world from a place of hope rather than convoluted conceit.  An icon and model of a new generation, her messages follow in the wake of legends such as Amy Winehouse and Lauryn Hill with their ingenious introspection and boding empowerment. But with counterparts such as SZA across the pond, it seems as though the last thing anyone would want to see of such bright potential is too see it rushed.  Though well intended, the Lifeboats freestyle seemed far too out of place and touch in the context of internal politics,  rather than external. Overpredicting and over expecting the natural pace of development could be what lead her here on this album, but if she’s determined to build her own distinct palette of colours and continue finding herself as she claims, time is of the essence.   A compulsive and honest confession in the struggle and liberation from the binding love of relationships, the album is nevertheless a buoyant representation of the much wider scope defining the notions of self-acceptance and vulnerability. Even when profound at its intersection of female independence, solidarity, and empowerment,  ‘Dont Watch Me Cry’ ends the album not in the spirit of refusal, rebuttal, or even feminine exclusivity, but instead in yearning compassion and affection that invites as much as it ultimately attempts to resist.  In a series of advocates for female empowerment, the UK flagship representative serves a young and underwhelming debut but breaks waves in its shining moments of maturity, promise, and potential. With the rich resources of fame and talent, the it’s only a matter of time for this ostensible proclamation  to shadow in the wake of a gleaming pearl. 

6.8/10

[soihere]

Geography

Tom Misch

Publishing Date: 15/4/18 “ An ode to the woes and wonders of the beauty that lives beyond the groove .”

The debut album from South London’s multi-instrumentalist and professional  bedroom groove-maker  lures listeners into a journey of sonic hedonism, set inside the carefully curated dimension of the Tom we’ve come to know and love. With the serene minimalism of it all, he continues to carry with him the places of endless musical liberation from his earlier mixtapes. But this time around however, Tom dives in head first with a much sweeter thesis in mind, of appreciating the craft as much as the creation.  As the title track attests, burrowing  away from the crackles of dusted samples, the passion and love for music lies beyond the yearn for money and success. In Paris, in the idea  and the ethos it embodies, he instead reaffirms that the love for music and art alike  lives within process itself. That  the joy of being an artist may not come in the form of material manifestations, but instead through the feelings and  journey in which it sets us on.  The  album braves the Misch trademark with colourful splashes and streaks down the avenues of soul, jazz,  and hip-hop,  warmly greeting them at their intersections.  On track such as  “It Runs Through Me” and “Disco Yes”, we see the best elements of each genre being highlighted and complementing one another in a dancefloor full of swing. From the deep pockets sown by the rhythm, and soulful croons  that permeate, to the eloquent guitar picks  and lushful accents of the classical piano or violin, each genre flourishes within their respective spaces - giving ample room for play. But also,  by maintaining a close understanding between the sounds, each one is able to subtly layer over another to accentuate  the feelings conveyed rather than shift them.  And it is in moments like these in the album that we get a glimpse of Tom’s artistry as a songwriter, as well as his exciting potential  to nurture and deftly recontextualise  other sounds  and genres to  feel closer to home. Ambient sounds  trickle in the backdrop of this album, with multiple samples and background noises from the street outside, leaving us with the  impression of a home studio. These intriguingly heart-warming sounds of sweet nothings wrap the album in the comfort of our own homes, from the comfort of his. In the adoringly wistful rendition of “Isn’t She Lovely”, the echoing reverb of the guitar playing over the street nosie captures a strikingly similar, and  bittersweet relatability. Like a  loneful evening in one’s room, accompanied by nothing but  the sound of sweet sorrows and one’s own solitude, the track reflects an all too familiar feeling of both joy and melancholy  from  revelling in one’s emotions. But in doing so, the album suggests a more warming insight to our loneliness. That, in being accompanied by ones self, lies an opportunity to confront and console ourselves in the luxurious experience of our own privacy. And from there, the journey begins. Reflecting  the album’s  artistic testament to self-exporation,  the sounds in this album travel  far and wide within the musical landscape, finding different homes for the different sides of himself at each stop of the journey.  From the reminiscing  ballad of “Movie”, to the quietly confessional “You’re On My Mind”, Tom successfully breaks free from the fun and danceful character of himself he’s constructed. And instead, he opens himself to be vulnerable in the face of romance, swimming in the pools of nostalgia tinged with a bittersweet sadness - “remember me, fresh off the black & white movie screen”. It’s a moment beautifully  cinematic and intimately confrontational at once, yet  gone amiss for one too many times. Although he doesn’t shy away from exploring this more nuanced side to his self, sound, and artistry,  Tom’s biggest challenge to overcome still seems to stem from his greatest strengths.  At best, some tracks such as South of the River and “Cos I Love You”  are inquisitive and bold, introducing  an untapped dimension to Disco with confidence and charisma. But more often than not in his attempt to fuse different sounds in this album,  these new influences - like disco for example - awkwardly seeps through the track, misplaced under the already present crowd of sounds.  And when the determination falls short,  tracks such as “Lost in Paris” & “Man Like You” fall into dangerous pit of being in between, coming off  uninspired, safe and simply tedious.  At worst however, the tracks are either self-effacing,  overcompensating for the silent void, or substantiate very little of what it projects. Or even both. Wasted tracks such as “Tick Tock”  , “Water Baby“, and “We’ve Come So Far” prompts listeners to make the most out of these experimental “jam” sessions. But yet, it leaves very little for the listeners to pick on up in order to make out anything of it.   The album  is  elegantly confrontational and intimate in it’s appreciation of music, guiding through the emotions and moments that float by. And in it’s reflection of it,  the album remains vulnerable and  faithful to the fruits and joy of it’s labour - making it all the worth while.  In the midst of all that is shown and felt, the music continues to shine through and come to life by no limit - proving  all that is comes with all that can be.  And so in his modest  reinterpretation of “house music”, Tom brings the party right home to remind us that just with a little music in your mind and soul, all the world’s fun is just one beat away. 

7.5/10

[soihere]

Konnichiwa

Skepta

Publishing Date: 7/4/18

“A hallmark return to the heart and horizons of grime in its unforgiving fashion.” 

Following the meteoric rise and success of his hits, unlike others but much like himself, Skepta dwelled deeper into his basement and sanction of mind. Only a year ago, the track “Shutdown” broke waves in what was a defining moment in renewing Grime’s reputation. Prior to the track however, Skepta had already drawn eyes with several moments of his own; proclaiming the infamous lines of “That’s Not Me”, greeting with “ring ring pussy”, and bringing London to London Fashion Week. Those moments were iconic in putting Grime in the G of Britain, but through the test of time, it was clear that the Grime he’d envisioned was one that continued to resonate with the whole city and genre. An army suited in tracksuits, armed with bars after bars, and guarded by their own man. For a while, it had seemed like the genre had lost ownership of its own identity, by those both most distant from it and closest to it. Whilst many may be swayed by the omnipresent influence from across the pond,  Skepta is determined to prove Grime as a uniquely rich lifestyle of its own, and anything but “British Rap”. As a gatekeeper of the genre who has grown side by side with it, this is the journey and statement of a man who has gone to the Brit’s on the train and isn’t unafraid to go hard on his own. If the album is anything more than an anthem for the ages, it’s without a doubt a revered classic in stamping Grime’s independence as a genre rooted in the street culture of London, and unforgiving in its own skin. In contrast to other contemporary sounds of grime making rotations around the scene, Skepta rolls out a fundamentally simple approach to his beats, lyrics and tracks. Concentrated in its spirit of contempt and distrust of anything that distracts, the cohesion between the tracks reflect a boldness and burst of energy unique to the grime sound and ethos. Characterised by the enrapturing and permeating bass, coupled with clashing and spazzing hi-hats swaying on 140 bpm, the beats by themselves are built for action. Although veiled under the moderated pace and lyricism presented, the simplicity grounded in the album translates well into chantable anthems capable of transcending cultures and languages in a way that only music can. Moreover, in the current soundscape revolved around the vibe and energy in which a track is able to capture and exude, the tracks exhibit an attitude built upon relatable feelings of indignation and impatience that make it digestible to the unaccustomed, but still noticeably independent in its own context. It’s the sensation that comes from millions worldwide announcing that “it’s shutdown”, “it ain’t safe on the block”, or even calling for “lyrics for lyrics, calm” in their best attempt at a North London accent. But in its mission of showcasing grime as a formidable weapon of its own - akin to hip-hop -, the tracks embody a shared unity across the distinction of what is being said and what is being heard. Skepta goes as hard and low lyrically as the bass and takes calculated picks at the established status quo with the accuracy and sharpness of the high-hats amidst the perceived chaos of it all. At its core, neatly packed into these tracks are cautionary tales of life and survival painted by the streets of London, fame, and preserving the self-exploration of identity, in a world that’s built on diminishing it. And as he navigates through the perilous pitfalls of rising success and acclaim, Skepta finds refuge in his own skin and journey. Whether on tracks such as “Lyrics”, reminiscing the youthful glories of clashing, trading witty jabs with a lively dose of braggadocious youth, or on the track “Corn on the Curb”, Skepta reminds us that all that is glitter isn’t gold. Instead, it’s in the company of all that is “home” that he’s able to find clarity in his struggle to balance honesty and integrity whilst being a celebrity - if he has to be. Breathing the fury of mosh pits, tracks such as “It Ain’t Safe” and “Man” assert a newfound character and pride in the authenticity of the roadman. Instead of looking out, Skepta holds tight to his local Gs in a prideful act of solidarity. By redefining the roadman as a London trademark, an authentic product of Grime’s British culture, Skepta calls for the people to recognise their own independence. The anthem “Shutdown” may be a banger off the bat, but more than that, it’s a prideful reassurance of Grime as a driving cultural force in Britain itself. With its strong sentiment of anti-establishment living at the heart of a city drenched in a history of elitism, the track itself however isn’t bothered by politics - “everybody’s on the same mission, and we don’t care bout your -ism and -scism”.  It reminds us that above it all, the music lives within people.  As Skepta realises himself, it would then however be a bit silly to only keep it exclusive to Britain. In the case of the Pharell assisted “Numbers”, Skepta is able to explore the possibilities of Grime and it’s sounds by fusing the bounce-laiden beats with bars delivered in a skippy flow -  ultimately attacking with a sharper lean and more grounded punches. Using the best of itself, Skepta exemplifies how Grime’s odd attributes can pave its own success and prospects of cultural crossovers. Conversely, it’s when this hold of Grime’s strengths is lost that we see it fall stiff under the chains of its own uncompromising nature. Evident by tracks such as “Ladies Hit Squad” and “Text Me Back”, the tracks lose any showcasing value and merely holding as placeholders for features. Grime, as the album introduces, is rebellious, unforgiving, and yields a constantly expanding energy. As people are drawn and hooked by the unrivaled sound of it all, in the end, Grime’s real force of attraction comes from its prevailing ethos. In a world where nobody will, Skepta places grime at the heart of valuing and championing your own identity.  Like himself, the lifestyle and culture in which the Grime lives is a testament to its unique environment, and it seems only right that it should be treated as such. From the underground and the scrutiny of it all, it’s a rejection of the invasive status quo, and is a growing voice of the loud, independent, and diverse reality of the future coming. Around the world and back, Skepta has made a mark in stamping Grime’s independence rooted in the London’s culture. Against the challenges of globalisation and recognition, this album testifies that all it takes is to hold true amidst it all. London’s newest export is iconic, proud, and unafraid. As the authenticity translates; it’s more than a sound, it’s a lifestyle. 

8/10

[soihere]

WOO$AH

Childish Major

Publishing Date: 18/2/18

“ A self acclaimed coconut that doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

On his ambitious debut project, Markus Randle - the accredited Atlanta-based producer more famously known as Childish Major - departs from the comfort of making beats to the endeavour of fulfilling dreams, as he seeks to make his mark as a creative. Inspired by “spending [his] adulthood chasing [his] childhood dreams”, the 24 minute “album” aspires to showcase a much more seemingly profound side to him. But like almost every other hustling rapper/artists, he revels in the universal notions of fame, love and success but displays very little of it. If there’s anything to be said in 24 minutes, it’s that being an artist can be much harder and complicated than even a producer might think - just ask Markus. On the opening track ‘Aim High’, a thesis statement to both the album and his career, Childish proves that he’s nothing short of ambition. In tackling the complexities of being the best version of himself, he asserts his beat making prowess with groovy rustles of hi-hats and percussion that suggest a promising elegance in his production. A talent that precipitates on his most memorable tracks such as ‘Woo$ah’ and ‘Shame’, but also drabs inexorably in painfully monotonous tracks such as ‘Supply Luh’ and ‘Happy Birthday’ - shooting himself in the foot. With an established skillset and tools that would serve well for other artists, or any for that matter, Childish always seems to clumsily fall onto one side or the either, surrendering his determined ambition into the hands of fate, probabilty, and luck. So what’s the distinction? Execution. Riding on a driving ‘collard green’ beat that breezes through tree laiden roads, ‘Woo$ah’ is easily the easiest track of the album- for good reason, and in the best way possible. As a track all about calming down and relaxing, from gliding guitar licks and adlibs and echoes glazed in reverb, each element of the track aptly compliments this central idea from their individual perspectives - showing not only artistic variety but also more importantly, artistic cohesion and focus. On the track ‘I Like You’ for example, a psychedelic breakdown unfolds but only to reveal itself as so near the ending. As a cohort of dispariging sounds are carelessly thrown onto the track, becoming muddled glitters that try to fantasize an Atlantan alleyway, Childish’s childish tendencies obfuscate more than they purvey, for simply times too many on this album. A watered down trap beat that doubles down on mediocrity and contradiction - atop an unneccesary skewed guitar sample - , the track holds tight to the booming 808s that does the most in giving the song any sense of depth, weight, and even clarity. Instead, it’s when he opts for less that he gets more in return. Like on the track ‘Shame’ with it’s simple but catchy beat and hook, by concentrating on making the most out of his strengths as a producer, he’s able to streamline his palette to achieve a sharper focus and in serving a singular idea, rather than patches of fragmented ideas. A focus that let’s us know not only what the artist is trying to convey, but also of what they see to say. And if Childish really is determined to sit amongst his peers as a good or great artist rather than a producer, each track should aim to be a visionary statement that proves he’s got something to say worth hearing. If not, it’s hard for anybody to see the point in any of his doings.  The most devastating revelation to come to Childish however, might be not be about what he’s doing wrong, but instead about what he’s not doing at all. Where lighter and rapid percussion play in his favour, slower and more lucid tempos on the other hand are sharp razors that cut him down, exposing his lyrical disparity and inability to create or capitalise on memorable moments. By the blunt and sleazy “hook” of “I Like You”, or the excruciating nagging of “Happy Birthday” that lack any stick, it becomes clear all too easily that Childish has very litte charimsa, and sadly even less to say. On wasted tracks such as “Supply Luh”, which would’ve easily done well for any of his  Dreamville peers, he spends 2 minutes straight moaning about his inability and struggle to supply love in the modern age - with forgettable and meaningless lyrics such as, “I tried to be better, I got issues with different hoes, in different area codes”. There’s simply an overwhelming amount of underwhelming attempts that dilute the album of any of it’s value. Exemplified by the track ‘No Nightmare’ that is of no use but to show how not to even attempt at an R&B hook, Childish falls into the trap of simply over-exerting himself to show his ambition (perhaps a bit over), rather than letting the listener decide for themselves. Afar from being either a lyricist, or charismatic like more popular contemporary acts, it’s hard to blame anyone who would want to backseat him. And if there’s any stick or sticking in this album, it’s most likely between him and going back to what he does best. Still, the artist shows a significant amount of potential that could prove to be fruitful in the years to come. With an already impressive list of features from influential artists in the game right now, such as SZA, DRAM, 6LACK, it’s just a matter of not letting it go to waste. With SZA and 6LACK’s subpar verses and DRAMs unfashionably late entrance, Childish fails to see how features have the potential to be more than a cosign. That instead, they are opportunities to explore and highlight strengths of each artist, opportunities not to simply be let under the bridge. Like in ‘NoEyeinTeam’, a song that would gel perfectly with the autotune croons of any of his ATL comrades, he misses the ball on an effortless flex of his own strengths - along with other famous artists - in making a statement, and instead makes a parody of his own beats. To end the album on such a note, it only serves well in showing how he lacks to keep the same energy and seriousnesss to being an artist - unlike the start. For a project meant to make a statement, his ideas come as only hollow projections of what could be, dissipating under any close inspection or connection. But the album, if anything, proves to be  an interesting case of the transition between being beatmaker/producer and artist. And more importantly, what it means to be both of them. Although his beat making prowess lends him a stable platform to perform, it’s up to him to grow upon his weakest links as an artist - to see through and more - if he seeks to reach as high as he aims. 

5.5/10

[soihere]

Angin Kencang

Noh Salleh

Publishing Date: 1/1/18

“The nostalgic soundtrack to a life today in black and white.”

Blooming from the underground stardom of the growing indie scene in the mid to late 2000’s, today he is amongst the very few artist who has proven their reputation and artistry in the industry through not only the longevity in his music, but more importantly the growth. Amidst the constant flooding and crashing streams of rock and ballad, Noh stands out to carve a much needed space into the Malaysian music industry, and more imporantly the ears of the masses, to create a space for change, uncertainty, and growth many deferently cower away from. Whilst others dip in and out into elements of a forgottenly rich genre, Noh takes us all the away in one of the most (if not the) artistically eloquent and defined album of this generation.  Like a vintage film glazed in the orange sunset of the 50’s and 60’s, the album whole-heartedly croons out the perfect soundtrack for an evening day-dream. As each track floats and twirls up into cumulus clouds - by no mistake given the album cover’s subtle hint, - 40 minutes past by in a breeze, taking you along with sky-gazing eyes. Moreover, it’s a moment of careless bliss being captured and cherished. And in that careless gaze are gentle and melancholic melodies, which coupled with the lush and grandiose instrumentation, tells stories or “acts” of it’s own in this dramatic saga.  In tandem with the falsetto melodies gliding through higher scales, the accentuating instrumentation of each track elevates the progression of each song to be more than a plot, bringing stories to life. In Mr Polia, the song plays as a gut-wrenching and explosive soundtrack to it’s very own brown, mustached saviour of the town, James Bond. Alongside the gallant trumpets and bustling beat, our character hurries through blazing streets of Malayan towns. Yet also to the wailing strings, he desperately searches for love within abandoned villas engulfed in the hands of nature. Alas, in our very own vintage mafia film, even our bold hero falls into the arms of romantic tragedies, elegantly articulated in this album through theathrical ballads of it’s own.  But between the unwithering and passionate lover and his pursuit of love, lies an unbridled and fearless romanticism that’s unforgiving in it’s own skin. A romance that, as this album shows, is nothing short of sweet and pure affection - love, as it is. Blending together elements of retro pop, jazz, folk, classical, and even traditional ‘keroncong’, into a revived recreation of itself, in this updated yet nostalgic interpretation of the ‘vintage’ sound, everything simply belongs. From the exuberantly bold and jazzy drumming, to the meticulously poetic lyricism, there’s a mutual understanding in the dynamics between the sounds from each genre, of its connection with its roots but also of where it seeks to be on it’s own. A relationship that’s rarely understood by previous attempts to gauge with music from the past, but one perfected almost effortlessly in multiple tracks in this album. As evident in the doo-wop guitar and direct storytelling found in ‘Biar Seribu’, the track plays seamlessly in sequence to a P.Ramlee track. At the heart of it, it’s a heartbreaking serenade stringed by romantic melancholy. But better yet, a familiar feeling of loneliness that’s newly fastened by a mature clarity in direction and emotion, sealing every note with a concieted caress of what’s being felt.    Yet, the album’s true strength and charisma comes to life by the dynamic yet spatious songwriting that swifts between heartpounding instrumentation and poetic melodies, all at once. At the chorus of ‘Bunga Di Telinga’, with an ensemble of glittering xylophones, guitar, piano, and swayful strings, each line glows under a tinted hue of it’s own. As the enamouringly soft vocals dips and swings from one note to the next, time only seems to pass with each flutter of the heart. At the end of each line, as the music twirls in knots, we’re reminded by the innocently soft, sweet and pure whispers that within each falter in life, lies a lavish romanticism we never knew we longed for.  In fragile falsettos that balance and bring to life the heartfelt poetic lyricism blessed onto each track (much credit due to his Indonesian partners in crime), it leaves, somewhere inbetween dismay and solemn reflection, a bittersweet and wholesome acceptance. A desire to let go. The tracks beg no thought or effort to compel you to feel. They are stories beautiful in their own simplicity, and drunk on their own honesty, “Kamu lebih ayu dengan bunga di telingamu”. In an almost chivlarous fashion, the album gladly trades wallowing confusion for somber confessions of reality, to reveal inside a warmer embrace.   Making his way from the homage of ‘Gelung’ for much of his Japanese inspired aesthethic approach, and en-route from the islands with all the folk, Noh settles by the wind as the ablum fittingly lands home on the track ‘Sarawak’. Unlike the unduly, moody darkness of Renjana - a recycled version of ‘Sang Penikam’ and would’ve best been opted out for ‘Sinar’ with it’s bolder and brighter progressions - the album leaves a final moment of light in its closing track. Set in a 50’s local folk/jazz lounge with lights, people, and tables filled sparingly, it’s the artists’ last track to his set. By virtue, he feels no need or desire to dwell in the spotlight. Tinged in an almost embeded indie sensibility of his, Noh seizes the moment to revel in the reflection of his own journey. Reminiscing an amalgamation of experiences and influences, he leaves a sentiment aptly characterised and evident throughout this much personal album of his. That is, after wanders on journeys of self exploration, perhaps all that we could ever long for was in all that we ever had. And so the perfect place to end might just be right where it all started - wherever home may be.  In a melting pot of cultures and genres, there’s a new precedent to the limits in the exploration and innovation of sound. Rather than forcing them to interact as their own, the album plays on the strength of each genre, delving deep into its essence. Diving bravely into the retro/vintage pop genre, the album leaves its mark by transcending imitation, and seizing ownership. A threshold in Malaysian/Indonesian music culture, this album shows that with big risks comes even bigger rewards. As of, Noh’s duly rewarded album breathes the courage in artistry that not only celebrates, but also redefines. 

8.5/10

[soihere]

Freudian

Daniel Caesar

Publishing Date: 6/11/17

“ Through the highs and lows in his polarizing journey for love, the young Torontian R&B singer finds an appreciation for all that has been, but also in himself a future for the things to be. ”

Amidst the notorious “Trap’n’B” style of Toronto, overdosed in the saturated and hedonistic regrets of every other contemporary R&B artist, Daniel Caesar is our “violet in the god damn sun” and “sunshine in the rain when it’s pouring”. Where “modern medicines” numb and elucidate escape, Caesar alleviates our common pain with music from and for the soul, gifting visceral insights that speak for things unspoken, filling hope and faith to heal what’s been broken. In his past works, gospel influences enhanced his vocals in evidently working out to make his sharpest tool in his shed. But in this album, it’s finally taking center stage as he opens the curtain to his heart and self, fighting in a constant love-hate relationship to break away but needing it still to hold on - as the same story goes with love. And so it starts:

Gentle rumbles of light scrape the darkness on its sides, as the vibrations wave past by from behind with echoes shortly after, in pursuit. Round and round they come and go, until a shadow settles as everything warps into it - a vague figure of clarity. The start from one trance to another, the drums conduct a sway that carves space out for a voice so sweet as it is coarse, guiding you not only up and down the peaks and pits of pitch, but also the emotional states that become recurring destinations in his exploration of the intricacies being in love. However, with each visit they become places less and less familiar than the previous. Within the enclave of his (relatively) strict upbringing, the notion of good and evil - right and wrong - is one that’s discrete and arguably absolute. Where by in his previous works it has always been an aspect addressed, in this album however it’s a sentiment challenged and echoed throughout. As he calls back upon his religous background as a vessel for him to hold onto, he ventures out of it. And with the lucid spread of gospel music on the forefront of the album, there are also sounds and instruments that bring a more “modern presence” to Caesar’s soulful croons and “cries that can be heard from far and wide”. In creating this gray complex of contradiction (of both moral and emotional) where the two (ie right and wrong) turn into either one or none, Caesar becomes both the victim and the perpretator - wounded and guilty by his shortcomings, and in despair and bliss from his vices. Starting with his single track “Get You”, Caesar displays his almost ridiculous talent to turn blood into wine as he sings in aching falsettos a heartfelt ballad about having everything he needs “in between those thighs”. And past the climatic falsettos, the track fades down into a sun-silked white screen, as two lovers trade honeymoon hyperboles in a duet for the “morning-after” sequel. The stark contrast in the tone and mood between the two tracks should act as a disclaimer to the dynamic nature of the remaining album. But if anything, it’s an exercise of self-conflict and contradiction that Caesar embraces with conviction - perhaps too whole heartedly, for better or worse. From having “pussy so good it sets me on fire” to passive-aggresive denial ( “Who do you think you are, some kind of celebrity? Just wait and see”), mood swings can occur as fast as a breath to Caesar, that being braggadocious is as fickle as wallowing desperation. So much so that one track comes into the illusion of being two (ie “Hold Me Down”). But to our benefit, it’s to his strength that neither tracks necessarily come at the expense of any emotional intensity. In the interpolation of gospel classic “Hold Me Now” by Kirk Franklin, within just half a song he’s able to produce one of the most soul-twisting moments in the album. With the harp-like ring of the guitar, the sheer simplicity and strength of the vocals wrap a thick ambience that resonates a profound yet intangible deepness close to the soul, melting it away. Likewise with the confessional-gloom of “Loose”, whereby a humming organ and his trembling voice is able to create such a charismatic mist that at this point, we could all probably use a bit of gospel in our lives. Face to face with their foil tracks however, the contrast is used to be indicative of much more than the intensity within each of the periodic moods. Moreover, it’s symbolic of the duality exisiting within him that eventually tears himself apart in this conflict of identity. He tumbles over the layers upon layers that wrap up who he is, leaving behind the spills of what’s been kept inside all along, manifested into this album as one big Freudian slip if you will. In his own words, the album is “the arc - from the inception to the death - of the most intense relationship of my(his) life”. And in true Freudian fashion, he lays it all down. But the way in which he does is agruably the most cinematic of a conceptual album yet. With emotions and a story that resonates close but woven so poetically from one scene to the next, each track becomes both a prerequisite and a shadow of the last and next. Although his magnetic voice is a binding force in this album in its ability to capture and set the mood instantly, it‘s the segues that come in the form of film reels, interrupted demos, or even chords progressions, that provide a much needed constant through one track and the next.

[ Reminiscing the “Best Part” and asking his girl to “Hold Me Down”, only to submit into the thought of cutting her “Loose”, agreeing that “We Find Love” and how he is and has been “Blessed”, now needing to find someone else to “Take Me Away” so that he can “Transform” into somebody new… but it’s all really just Freudian. ]

Take “Transgressors Song” for example. It starts with the ominous and pure vocals of “Hold Me Down”, holding you in the same prying and regretful state of mind, only to realise when catching yourself singing out the lyrics, the actually passive-agressive tone of the song. But by reminiscing on remnants of the past, using them as steps to build on, each climb then becomes all that much more meaningful, as it sets to not only be a humbling reminder of how far he has(we’ve) come in this journey, but more importantly how much he’s grown.

And with all that’s said and heard, the album finally reaches it’s summative apex with the two tracks from the “We Find Love” EP, making the rest of the album pretty much secondary. Honing in on a reborn strength, he finds a warming solace within the boldness and depth of the piano. A hatred and passion to love, and be loved. “Yes I’m a mess but I’m blessed to be stuck with you”. With it’s bittersweet optimism in all of it’s gospel-goodness, alongside the heart-wrenching sorrow of any classic RnB ballad,the two tracks together drink like poisoned wine and encapsulates Caesar at his best - as he is. But sadly so, all that is left past the apex is the inevitable and forthcoming disappointment of false and failed anticipation. At first, it’s a pitiful tragedy that’s sincere, personal and almost too hard to bare. But after driving past what should’ve been the wise ball of light that leaves the album elevating reckless minds and souls, it tires out into a self-loathing monologue that then only becomes simply too hard to bare to care. As each track leans back and forth into yearning melancholy, to later bounce off into self-deluded confessions, the distinction between the two dissolves into a single stream of consciousness - one that only comes unconsciously to both the listener and Caesar himself. And it’s from this honesty in expression that makes ‘Freudian’ more than just a mere narration of what is known, but rather the journey stringing together what is felt. Whether you find it “funny how heaven and hell are the same”, or climbing up to try and find love in the sky that’s bright as it is empty - “We find love, we get up / We fall down we give up”. And with all of it’s intro and retrospect, maybe instead of finding the one, all we really need is just a bit of faith - faith, in ourselves.

7.5/10