“Future Power Sources,” Marlowe
When Seattle beat-architect L’Orange teams up with North Carolina wordsmith Solemn Brigham, the result is loop-digging, old-school hip-hop in the vein of Madvillain: crisp, witty bars spit over subwoofer-busting basslines. Don’t come here seeking hooks; Brigham has too much to say to waste time repeating himself. Their second album as Marlowe — the obviously named Marlowe 2 — sees the pair picking up where they left off, with Brigham weaving social commentary into cutting rhymes while L’Orange mines the crates for earworms. Here, L’Orange laces in lo-fi, funky horns to accentuate Brigham’s machine-like flow. DJ Trackstar (from Run the Jewels) adds vocal scratches to put the cherry on this hip-hop sundae.
“Sun for Someone,” Oscar Jerome
It’s hard to believe at first that the blue-eye soul of this Oscar Jerome track is a vessel for a message about climate change, so delicate, so intimate — so warm — is Jerome’s delivery. But Jerome’s understated, folksie voice is half of his superpower, the other half being his deceptively laid-back guitar playing. Bright and nimble, “Sun for Someone” warns that the Earth doesn’t need humans to survive, and quite frankly, the planet will be better off when we’re gone. With UV rays for guitar riffs, Jerome keeps heads bobbing, never allowing us to succumb to the nihilism of it all: “Melancholy evidence / Happily berate their ignorance / The earth will sigh as it watches us die / Along with our belligerence.”
“Flameback Dance,” Ariwo
The word ariwo, according to the London-based band’s website, means “noise” in Yoruba, but that feels too broad, too negative (at least in English) to describe the quartet’s melodic fusion of electronic music with traditional, ancestral rhythms. Hailing from Iran, Cuba and Canada, Ariwo draws on musical traditions from around the world, as well as from their motherlands. This single, from a compilation album featuring 27 other artists, features a face-melting Afro-Cuban jazz horn line that eventually gives way to free-wheeling trumpet and sax solos.
“Arevil’s Gardens (RIP),” The Land of Rah
The Land of Rah’s debut album, An Ancient Evil & A Huge Pumpkin, is just as ridiculous as the title suggests — but it’s also adeptly crafted, boldly experimental and highly ambitious in its wild turns between narrative and genre-blending tracks. Over two hours and 32-tracks, this Sydney-based collective spins fantastical, often hilarious yarns (about, well, a primitive evil and a large gourd) set in a Tolkien-esque world. The group slides in and out of genres with ease, allowing the lyrical tone to dictate whether a song calls for chamber pop, psych rock, post-punk… there are no boundaries in this magical world. “Arevil’s Gardens (RIP)” starts off sleepily enough before eventually blasting off into space, fueled by fuzzy snyths and buttery vocals. Epic tales of evil aside, The Land of Rah knows how to offer up phrases that transcend the whimsical narrative to speak to life in general: “Don’t know where we going but we know where we been.”
“Dream Rat,” No Joy featuring Alissa White-Gluz
No Joy, paradoxically, channels the most exuberant moments of Nine Inch Nails, leaning more readily into glitzier disco beats than Trent Reznor typically cares to, while still retaining the jagged edges that typify industrial rock. For “Dream Rat,” No Joy teams up with nu-metal vocalist (and sister of frontperson Jasamine White-Glutz) Alissa White-Glutz for this Duran-Duran-meets-Ministry slice of rock ‘n’ roll.
“Teek,” Kaki King
“It feels spooky but songs can write themselves,” Kaki King says of the lead single from her 10th studio album, set for release this fall, “if one is prepared to receive them.” The world-renowned guitarist and composer actually created the Passerelle bridge that makes her six-string guitar in this track sound like a 12-string Japanese koto or Chinese guzheng. The video, made at home during quarantine, is a whimsical, one-shot, stay-at-home “travel” video, sure to give you a case of the warm fuzzies.
