NPR Music - New Music Friday: The best albums out Oct. 18

Episode Date: October 18, 2024

NPR Music's Ann Powers and Sheldon Pearce are your guides to this week's most compelling new musical offerings. For October 18, their selections include an array of ambitious, melodic and emotional new albums spanning genres. Plus: celebrating the arrival of a new music website and considering what drives us to write and talk about music in the first place.Featured albums:• Joy Oladokun, 'Observations From a Crowded Room'• CKay, 'EMOTIONS'• Kelly Lee Owens, 'Dreamstate'• Porridge Radio, 'Clouds In The Sky They Will Always Be There For Me'• Bon Iver, 'SABLE,'Check out our longer list of albums out Oct. 18 and stream our New Music Friday playlist at https://npr.org/music. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for sponsorship and to manage your podcast sponsorship preferences.NPR Privacy Policy

Oh man, did you ever have one of those weeks where like every little thing was just going wrong? You know what I mean? Like, nothing big, really? Oh, yeah. I came home from the road promoting the new NPR music book. I knew my car was already broken down, so I had to take it to the shop. Then I lost, like, my freaking prescription sunglasses. Goodbye, $250.

Thank you. And then my dog had to go to the ER. But my dog is okay. Nobody worry. But it's just like, ah, what do you do, Sheldon, when this happens? Like, do you seek solace in music? I do, in fact, often seek solace in music. It can feel soothing, but it can also, like, sort of allow you to purge any, like, latent anger you have.

I just keep going back to that Cape Bush song, Get Out of My House, where she, like, screams, get out. Get out of my house! I don't know. That's, like, anyway, no one needed that. Hi, I'm Ann Powers. I'm critic and correspondent for MPR Music, and I'm here with my friend and colleague Sheldon Pierce to talk about the best and most discussion-worthy album's out October 18th. And actually, you know, we have some healing records this week and some cathartic records. Later on today's show, we're going to celebrate the birth of a new music publication and talk about why we love to write about music and what gets us going when it comes to particular subject. But first, let's start rolling out those albums. And I'm going to go right to the therapeutic. This is a new record from Joy Al-Ato-Coon,

Observations from a crowded room. And let's just hear a little of that beautiful joy voice before we even talk about it. When my friend Casey died, I didn't drive home for the funeral. I was prostrate as they say to higher minds. Went to my dorm and cried. because I still believed in heaven and I was sure I wouldn't see her when I died

but everything changes your spirit and bone marching to the great questions chaos and faith so joy aladdin my neighbor here in Nashville well not literally my neighbor but she lives in Nashville um she's I think one of the great Singer-songwriter's kind of pushing beyond roots or conventional singer-songwriter music today. This is her third major label album. She wrote and produced the whole thing and played most of the instruments on it. And it's sort of, it is this journey. Oh, God.

Why did I say that? It is a journey, though. It is. I think it's accurate in this case. That seems like so, I don't know, self-helpie or something. Yeah, there are a lot of big questions on this record that you use. working through in song and sort of in thought as a sides. So I do think it really is a journey.

And maybe her most ambitious record so far. I know. I mean, we put her last album on the best of the year kind of at my insistence. I loved it so much. And now I feel like, man,

I should have waited because this one is, this is a very high mark, I think. And the funny thing with Joy, Aladakoon, is that, I don't know if you've ever, if you follow her on social media

or anything. But it's on this record, too. She's constantly struggling openly with whether she wants to even be part of the music industry. Some of that has to do with her being a queer black person living in Nashville, Tennessee, where that is definitely not easy, even in a music community that's making gestures towards change. And some of the songs here express real frustration and, like, almost not bitterness, but like almost a sarcasm, like about racism in the music and she? Like I wondered, Sheldon, what you thought about that song, Hollywood, which I didn't ever expect Joy Aladocoon, gentle hemp tea, sharing Joya Lodakun to be offering me a song that has the phrase N-word in Hollywood. What did you think about that song? Yeah. I think that's kind of

the point to have people in the community that she's navigating who see her as. an outsider be sort of struck by that outsiderness like she is putting it right in your face on display you cannot ignore it listening to that song when the man with the plans got to keep up sharp and he's cashing in your dreams for a better spot but he swears everything that you want is up to you do it for all the dope boys hustling every day people try to make a way to get something good to put up on the table when they need someone to give them something tasteful they call niggas in Hollywood

It's interesting, like a lot of this music feels Like it's trying to situate her as an outlier and an outsider in so many different spaces Not just in the Nashville music community But in like a lot of white-coated scenes spaces, quote unquote, like there's a lyric on, I'd Miss the Birds, this truly great passage where she's like, lately, I've been dreaming of a house out in the woods with a big backyard, my dog and my lover, gave Nashville a chance, made it further than they thought I would,

but it doesn't mean I should hang around and suffer. This world on fire still has good to discover. And there's so much in that passage about identity, about belonging, about like what she is really owed by the community that has not embraced her, but she has given so much too. But also sort of finding comfort in the fact that she is still here. The sound of the record too, because I think this is really an important part of her outsiderness, but also to me, her massive pop potential. On the last record, I was saying, oh, Joy Laudocoon, she's like the new John Mayer. You know, she's just that, she is so good.

She's so virtuosic. She's not a, you know, guitar face type guitar player. She's not in that way, no. But you know how John Mayer, like, is so irritating with the way he can make a song that you cannot resist, even though every bone in your body wants to resist it? Like, she has that talent, and I would never resist you joy, but she has that talent of making such, like, grounding her work in such a, amazing hooks. Like, she's so good at that. But on this record, she also expands her sound,

I think, and is playing around with elements, sonic elements that on the one hand remind me of someone like Solange, and on the other hand, make me think about Peter Gabriel. Oh, wow. Can you impact that a little bit for me? Well, he has a similar voice to Joy Al-a-Coon, too, in a strange way, because, like, Joy's voice is very delicate, but they're, and relatable, you know? But then there's just a beauty to it as well. 80s Peter Gabriel, he was always reaching for these bigger themes. And like for her, a song like Dust Divinity, which goes right to the heart of the matter of, you know, I want to believe.

I want to have faith, but I don't know if I can. And does it so just in such a way, in such a human way, I just love it. Joy Al-a-Coon, observations from a crowded room. Yeah, my first record is from a rising Afro-pop star from Nigeria named CK. Most people know him for one song. He went viral in 2021 for a remix of the single Love Nwati, and I feel like we have to hear at least a little bit of that. And if you've heard that song or his other big.

hit Emiliana, you get a sense of his vibe. His 2022 album was called Bad Romance, and that kind of sums up what he's after. It wasn't like a Lady Gaga cover album, though, which would have been really interesting, I have to say. I would love to hear C.K. take on Lady Gaga. C.K. actually exists in sort of a post-Wiz Kid Afrobeat sound that is like, obsessed with sway. The genre is obviously, like, very rhythmically driven, but WizKid pushed it in a more sort of, like, soft, spun, like, sashang direction with the first big Afro beats hit on American charts, essence.

And sort of as others in the field have moved away from that and embrace the springiness of South African Amapiano in recent. years, he has sort of stayed the course. And emotions is maybe his gentlest, the quietest knocking music he's released, obsessed with like classic lover boy tensions of wanting to be a hopeless romantic, but also being like super toxic in your own way. You know if he die, my love for you, you know go quench, I can't replace you. Believe me, I've tried. But star player, you know for day for bench.

Oh, but relax. No go, they feel yourself, cause they do anyhow, baby girl, she lacks. Because I love you, it no mean I be your my god. Relax, welcome to my car. toxic tenderness, tenderness, tender toxicity. I don't know. Actually, the phrase that the press release uses to talk about CK is emo afrobeats. And I was sort of pondering that and wondering if you saw any connection to emo,

or is it just a matter of like emotionalism? I don't think it is emo in the like aesthetic. make sense. I don't think there is a direct connection or correlation to what we think of as emo in the States, but I do think there is a prevailing angst that like hangs over his songs. No, go to feel yourself, can they do anyhow, baby care how she locks, because I love you, it don't mean I be all my God, relax, welcome to my gosh. first thing I like, it's really his voice. I love the readiness of his voice.

It, you know, it is that kind of quintessential, has that quintessential lightness that African singers often have. Yeah. But it also, it has that, like, bad boy edge. That sounds so corny, but, you know, he's like that quiet bad boy in the bar that you don't, that you think is like really sweet and, you know, misunderstood. He's got that misunderstood thing happening. Yeah, I do think there's a little bit of like a gaslighter a lot of his songs. You said it. I didn't say it. Like, like, he's, he's, he's definitely

not as forward about his toxicity as you would expect. It's not on the surface. It's, it's underneath in a lot of cases. The Afro-pop stars often take after the R&B heartthrobs that precede a lot of the music that they make. And there is this like perpetual dance between like seeking out the loving embrace but also like playing the field. Right, exactly.

Almost all R&B music. I feel like before we move on from CK, we got to mention how he does integrate more traditional African elements on this new record a little bit. It's not overweening or anything, but it isn't, I mean, to me, that adds a lot of complexity to the mix. It feels very intentionally a return to like traditional African sounds in a moment where Africa is pushing more towards, Western pop sounds. I mean, when you think about the breakthrough of somebody like Tyler, when you think about

Thames, who is not Afrobeat at all, she's like a stone cold R&B singer. Yeah, completely. There is a move to try to collapse the distance between the pop industry in Africa and the pop industry in America. And this

record seems like, I wouldn't say it's a back-to-basics approach entirely, but it does seem like a gravitational shift towards tradition in the homeland. That's CK's emotions. Anne? Well, speaking of going back to basics, although, you know, I don't mean by basics less than or, you know, too simple or anything.

I am so excited. There's a new record from the Welsh electronic dance artist, Kelly Lee Owens. I love her music. and I was super psyched to hear she had this new record out. It's called DreamState. It's the first release for George Daniel from the 1975, also notable is Charlie X-E-X's fiancé. He has a new dance music imprint called DH2,

and this is the first release from it. So kind of launching a label as well as a return for this wonderful artist. So Kelly Lee Owens is really interesting to me in that she has this euphoric soul. I feel like. Her music is always very kind of like hovering between earth and sky for me. And she also has a wonderful voice as a singer. And I'm no electronic music expert. And I do like some vocals on my dance music. And on this record, Dreamstate, she's really leaning in to singing. I just love how she takes a basic concept like, I don't know.

know the dance floor lifts you higher as she does in her song higher and then adds some beautiful vocals on top of this classic ravey sound it does lift me higher this record is really buoyant there's like something so effortless about it i never really thought about her songs as floor fillers per se but then you have something like love you got and it's so massive yet so weightless, representative of the euphoric energy that you mentioned, and of this entire record, especially it has like those washed out choral vocals that come in.

Right. It's listening to this, I thought, man, what a luxury. Like so many electronic producers are constantly searching for the disembodied voice of their songs, that particularly men like looking for women to be like the face. of their music. Yeah, or like in the case of the new caribou album, like AIing themselves into female voices. Kind of messed up. But she has it. She has the voice, you know. She literally is that. She she embodies that and her being able to find the balance between sort of the free-floating energy in her music and then the almost celestial quality of her singing. I mean, if you listen

to Rise, she deploys her voice so effectively on that song. The beat is chugging directly at you, but there are moments where the sounds are all flowing in and out of phase, and it's just so sublime. I think it's representative of the dream state that she is inducing with this record. You know, Sheldon, Kelly Lee Owens is also a nurse. She actually worked on a cancer ward. So she really does think about music as a tool for healing. Maybe that's one reason why I like it. You know, I have a little new age side.

I'm interested in like how music can be functional and change moods. And as we were talking about earlier, sometimes you need to scream. But sometimes you do need just like to lay back in the class. of it and let it, you know, let it touch you in that kind of rakey way. That's Kelly Lee Owens, and the record is called Dream State. We're going to take a little break, but when we come back, we've got a few more records to discuss. The next record is a new one from the post-punk band Porridge Radio.

It's called Clouds in the Sky. They will always be there for me. Let's hear a little bit of a hole in the ground. How am I meant to know? This band from Brighton, fronted by the singer Dana Margolin, broke through in 2020 with Every Bad, which was nominated for the Mercury Prize. There is sort of a quiet intensity to the music that they make. Quiet intensity. Wait a minute, I got to interrupt you right there.

You find this music quiet? Well, well, uh... Just a heads up, this podcast contains explicit language. I think it's a bit quieter than some of their contemporaries. Okay, fair, fair, fair. The album was produced by Big Thief Engineer Dom Monks and recorded live. The songs are all created from a focus on words. Dana Margolin said she wanted to challenge herself to be a better writer.

It's a breakup record, but it feels more torrential. fermented than sad. Oh God, totally. This is not a heavy for? Take off all of my clothes and run to your house where in place of a door. This is not a record that improved my move, but that's not a, that is not a, a bash against it. This is a heavy record. I've been thinking a lot lately about PJ Harvey.

She's been touring in the States, and a lot of people I know are going to see her. And I've just been thinking the thought I always think about PJ Harvey, which is like, why are there so few artists who can reach that level of intensity? And I feel like that's kind of the goal that Dana Margolin is setting for herself here. Not that she's thinking about PJ Harvey at all, but just that level of like self-examination to the point of like stripping off your skin a little bit. Yeah, it's funny. There's a song on this record called God of Everything Else. where the, there's a, the song, it comes rushing right at you. And there's, to her point about lyrics being more of a focus on this record, there's a

great lyric where she says, you always said I'm too intense. It's not that I'm too much. You just don't have the guts. That's it. And that is like the core tension of this record, really. Completely. I was really hit by the immediacy of this one. The lyrics are so forward.

It has such a severe sense of displacement. There's a lyric where she says, I dreamed all night that I lost my voice on the ocean floor. All night I searched the end of the world, ashamed at myself for letting it go. Hardcore. She has described some of these songs as being trapped in a haunted fairy tale. Yeah.

And that is, That is what this record is. It's like, it is possessed by the beauty of romance and, like, the depth of sorrow that can wash over you. Sheldon, that is so right what you're saying about the haunted nature of these songs and the kind of supernatural side of these songs. I mean, in a way, it reminds me of a book that I love in The Dreamhouse by Carmen Maria Machado, which is an account of an abusive relationship, but it sort of veers into almost. not exactly supernatural territory, but it's like a horror story, you know. When talking about a hole in the ground, she said that the song was a gentle lullaby, but also like a folk tale with a tragic ending, seeing the future by guessing and being right.

And I think the album is possessed. I love the idea that you would sing a lullaby to your baby that's called a hole in the ground. now that's parenting I love it I kept thinking about Black Country New Road and the peak of that band's work when the songs just get

really long and stretch out and the band is just going creating terrain and the singer is laying out the path that goes nowhere yeah I think the sense of constant motion like these never These songs never settle in one place.

Porridge radios, clouds in the sky, they will always be there for it. Well, Sheldon, on that note, I almost want to say we've reached the end of our featured albums because it's hard to follow up on Porch Radio. But we do have one little short record we also need to talk about. It is the return of the king of haunted Indian. music, Justin Vernon. Justin Vernon, also known as the front person slash alter ego of Bonne Verre. And Bonne Verre has just released a three-track EP called Sable, which is a kind of a little arc.

Actually, Amanda Patrusis just interviewed him for the New Yorker and talks about this record as a really like a three-part story that completely takes. you from one place to another place in its very short span. So yeah, let's hear a little bit of the last, the final part of the arc. This is called award season. I can handle way more than I can handle. So I keep reaching for the handle to flood my heart. And the Spaniard and song that I have banded to

There's always handing me the anvil Saying that's for you But then you came to me From Olympic heavy duty We both needed so much soothing Played you regularly Oh how everything can show Well, Sheldon, finally, we have Bonnie Ver's pandemic record.

We've been waiting. Well, I don't know. Have we been waiting? Have you been waiting? I'm not sure I've been waiting, but I am happy to see it. I'm happy to hear it. It feels welcome. It's interesting, you know, Boni Vair has had sort of a funny trajectory.

He was sort of off to the side as this, if you know, you know folk sensation in the beginning. And then suddenly he's in the Kanye Cabal and the earth. early 2010s. And the next thing you know, he's working with Taylor Swift and laying vocals on Travis Scott. And Charlie XX. He's on that new, the new Brat remix. Bonnie Vair is brat. Yes, truly. I mean, big indie feels like an oxymoron, but that is what he's become. And there's always been a bit of friction to that. Totally. He lives in the woods, right? Well, that was the famous thing about the origin story of Bonne Verre, right, as he was out in some cabin and making these weird ass records.

His solo music has sort of been increasingly lush, even as it grows busier and more electronic. I mean, he's done so much tinkering in recent years on his last two albums, 22 a million from 2016 and I-I-I from 2019. So I was kind of taken aback by how stripped down this EP sound. It truly feels like a return to the hunting cabin for, from, for Emma forever ago. Return to like his roots as a singer-songwriter, basically. And it's like a foky, indigo girls loving, Paul Simon loving. I don't know.

For me, there was a bit of a Simon and Garfunkel maybe channeled through Phoebe Bridgers. Well, let's talk about the arc that, you know, the alleged arc of these songs. because it really is only three songs. It's very short, with 20 minutes or something. And the first one of the trio is called Things Behind Things, Behind Things. And if you just listen to the hook, it seems almost kind of like a Joya Laticoon song. It's cosmic on a very relatable level. But then there is a darkness in it.

There is a sort of a self-accusation in it. and he's kind of in a spiral. Then we get to Spacide, which features Rob Moose on the viola, notable. And he's really down. He's really down

in that one. And so then his award season, like his... Is it his redemption? Where do we end up? I'm not sure what to make of how he's feeling. There is a sort of profound sense of

like gratitude. that lingers throughout it, but then a striking loss that seems to occur at the end of it. Yes. Where he is separated from presumably an actress. Yes, or someone else who wins a lot of awards. Perhaps it's a chemist. I mean, this came out right during the Nobel Prize. It could be a scientist, but probably an actress.

He is now on the outside of the world that she exists in. for whatever reason that has separated them. Right. And I mean, he's got this great lyric about questioning why things change, but sort of cherishing everything they've made together. And there's a bit of a bittersweet non-resolution to it that I actually really enjoy. Yeah, I like that too. I mean, it feels mature in a strange way.

It actually reminds me of a song that was on the recent Sturgel Simpson's last Johnny Blue Sky's record called Mint T, where he, you know, it's a little unclear. I mean, it's pretty clear that it's addressed to a lover, although some elements, it almost seems like it could be addressed to a therapist. But, you know, but the point of it is he's saying, you know, put a band-aid on this bullet wound. That's Sturgle's line, which means, you know, your love can heal me, but only to a point, you know. And I feel like that's where we're ending up with this older, wiser, yet still completely emotionally naked, Justin Vernon, which is, you know, he's basically saying I can still completely eviscerate myself by examining my failures in a relationship, but by the end of it, I can kind of come to a place of peace around my limitations.

That's where I feel like he's leaving us. To the point about him getting back to the Rootsie isolationist, like, award season is probably the most spare of all of these songs. I thought it was Acapella the first time I listened to it. I mean, I wasn't listening very hard clearly, but it was. There is subtle instrumentation and little flourishes that rise up here and there. But it's very clear that he is focusing his voice, right? His voice is front and center and raw in a way that it hasn't been on recent records. And I think it really sells the solitude of like trying to self-improve, trying to like step back from the world and say, oh, let me build myself back up and figure out who I am, figure out what's wrong with me and try to fix it.

Now that is some emo. That is some emo. That is some emo. True emo. Thank you, Justin Vernon. That is Bonnie Verne. His little gift to us called Sable. But that's not it for new releases this week.

Let's take a quick spin through some of the other records coming out today. Sheldon, you want to start? There's a new Kylie Minogue record, a sequel to her 2023 album, Tension. Tension 2 delves further into electronic dance music with features from Diplo and Orville Peck, Tuvalu and Bibi Rexa, Sia and the Bless Madonna. And the comedian and songwriter Tim Heidecker has a new record. slipping away, recorded with his very good band. He has described it as his warmest and most vulnerable music yet. It may be a bit of a shock for folks who only know him through

Adult Swim. It is representative of the artist that he tries to be in this space and the balance that he brings to all of his art. There's a new album from an inaugural Tiny Desk winner, Fantastic Negrito, fantastic California blues, rock, undefinable artist. It's called Son of a Broken Man. From here in Nashville, a wonderful new singer-songwriter, Liv Green. I love what she does. She's a young queer woman who really gets to the heart of matters on her songs, and her album is appropriately called Deep Feeler. The Canadian rock duo Japan Droids is no more, but they leave us with a final album. It's called Fate and Alcohol.

And here's one for the kids and the grown-ups, and everyone who loves the magical mix of hip-hop and theater nerdery. It's the collaboration between Lynn Manuel Miranda and Issa Davis. It's called Warriors. It's an album composed and masterminded by these two stars of stage and screenwriting. And it recreates the story of the 1979 Cloth. the Warriors about a gang making their way from the Bronx to their home turf in Coney Island in Brooklyn and being hunted by rivals along the way. There's so many guests

from so many different worlds on this album. I'm not even going to mention who they are, but you're going to find some Hamilton cast members and hip-hop icons on this record. Go out, enjoy it, I'm sure. Great Schoolers will be singing these songs on the playground very soon. And finally, I want to mention an artist I've been excited about for a while, and I know our friends at Alt Latino are excited about this guy, too. They've recently featured his music on their show. His name is Wyatt Flores, and he's a young guy from Oklahoma. He's Mexican-American.

He's a great songwriter, has a really, I don't know, I just love the grit and hope in his voice. He's very young. And he writes from his own experience in a classic kind of roots American way. This is the highest compliment that I can give a young country roots performer is that he reminds me of a young Steve Earl. His new album is called Welcome to the Plains. All right, we're going to take a little break. And when we come back, we are going to celebrate the birth of a new music publication that we're excited about and talk about why we write about music.

Well, Sheldon is a big week for us music writer nerds because there's a new website. that's launched. It's called Hearing Things, and it's from several of the former Pitchfork staff members who earlier this year lost their jobs in a tragic purging of that website. Although we must say, pitchfork carries on. It's still out there, smaller staff, but they're doing some great things. But I don't know, I'm very excited about this new publication because of what it promises to do. What's your reaction? Yeah, it's independent sort of owned by the writers, half owned.

Their, their tagline is like, no algorithms we promise. It is very taste-focused, very much about the individual pursuits and passions of the writers at the core of the project. And I think you and I can relate to sort of chasing our passions in writing.

We are both currently doing that here on our site. in the newsletter that runs for NPR music. Yeah, and your column, which I've been loving, it's absolutely great, and you're really coming up with great things every week. I will say I've read a few things on the Hearing Things site, and I really love what they're doing, especially in terms of long-form essays. There's a great one by site co-founder Ryan Dombo called How the Hell Did McGee Get This Big,

which really gave me a lot of insight into the mysterious rock god, who's sort of taken over the scene of late. I'm just happy to have a chance to watch these great minds dive into the topics they care about. I feel like this is why we got into music writing, right? This is why we love other people's writing about music. And I don't think it's inside baseball or too esoteric to celebrate that because I feel like writing, like what I'm seeing on hearing things

is very accessible and open to any. who loves music. I think at the core, the process of music writing is about trying to help listeners see things and hear things in music that they otherwise wouldn't, making connections, pulling context from the past, being able to tell the story of an artist or a record or a song, and really giving a listener a greater appreciation for the thing. And I think part of that starts with the writer themselves, like having that appreciation for the thing, trying to see in this piece of art what matters to them and working through finding an answer. And how do you find that process when you're writing? Well, the timing is interesting with this site hearing things,

bringing us back to celebration of music writing just when Grillo-Marcus, who was kind of my first inspiration as a music writer. True legend. A true legend. He's now in his 80s. He's written some of the most significant books and other things about music over the course of a long career. And I fell in love with Groome Marcus's writing when I was in college. The book Mystery Train genuinely changed my life. So he has a new book out. It's called What Nails It. It's just basically a why I write book. It's from a lecture he gave. He really talks about his encounter with the work, whether it's a song or even a guitar line or maybe a scene in a movie, as this, like epiphany, you know, this moment of grace, of catharsis, of, you know, staring into the eyes of God in a weird way, even though he would never use that term.

But what I'm talking about is a certain intensity he brings to the project of listening or experiencing art that. he then wants to convey on the page. He's, you know, he's always said, and he says it in this book, I want the reader to feel something reading my words that's like what I felt listening to what I'm talking about. I want the reader to have that, you know, heightened sense of human experience. And that was really influential to me. It's a high bar, man, though. I mean, it's a ridiculously high bar. and honestly it can lead to some kind of pompous, pompous writing at times. I've done it myself. Well, I do think it sort of taps into like a universal experience of listening to music. I think a lot of people would say that at some point they've been struck by something in a song and it has moved them so powerfully that it has changed them. I think writers often find themselves in the position of, trying to talk through why they were changed by that thing.

And I think in that exchange, you can sort of find some common ground with other listeners, other people who are trying to put into words, the feeling that they felt when they heard that thing, that moment, that spark in that song that just lit the fuse that, that's why we have standum, right? It's like there is something in the song. that just sparked something in us. And I think I often feel as a writer I'm trying to communicate

to myself first, like, what about a given feeling or idea that is being expressed in a song resonates so deeply with me and why it maybe matters to so many of us? Yeah, that's definitely what Greel's getting at in the book. And, you know, one thing I love about this little book, it's in three sections, and each one deals with a different way that this kind of revelatory process works. And he argues with himself a little bit in the last section. You know, he's been talking about how popular cultural works, like even like trashy movies, B movies, have given him this epiphany, which is a very important part of the history of music writing, I think, because let's face it, it's a bastard form, you know, as a lifelong music writer, I've often been, you know, the one in staff

meetings at fancy newspapers where, you know, I'm the one wearing the promotional t-shirt with eating the sandwich in the back while everybody is having serious conversations about politics. So, you know, we're kind of like lifting up this degraded form of criticism. But I've, so, so Greil has in the final section of his book, he talks about an encounter he has with a painting by the artistician that makes him suddenly think. oh my God, I was wrong. High art is the most valuable thing. And not only high art, but religious art and specifically Christian art.

And it's a really funny turn because a moment ago he was saying the greatest work of art was like Mary Clayton's background vocal on Gimmie Shelter. And now he's like, no, it's this academic painting. And then he argues against himself again. So I say this to say, there's something a little untrustworthy about the appeal. epiphany process. That's all I'm saying. Like it doesn't have any kind of frame around it or maybe the frame isn't acknowledged. And I wonder if one more recent impulse in music writing reflective of the world of popular music is to look at the frame first and the music second. In other words, you mentioned

standem. Like there was a recent piece in the New Yorker about K-pop or this producer. You know, what was his name? Hitman Bong. Right. Hitman-Bong. And that piece by Alex Barish, it's a really, really great piece, but it hardly talks about music at all. It is really about the industry, the construction of these groups, and the construction of a fan experience. And I wonder if you ever think, like, maybe people just aren't that interested in the core

musical experience now. We want to know more about the frame, more about how the parisocial relationships were, more about how the industry were. Well, I think to your point about what you are. thinking about this process is very important, not just to you, but to other people, to the universe at large, which is not necessarily true. I think to the point about Kelly Lee Owens earlier, like, sometimes it just washes over you. Sometimes music is functional. Sometimes it serves a purpose in the background. There are a lot of different ways into it. It isn't always about engaging

with it directly. And to your point now, sometimes it isn't necessarily about music as a product first and foremost. Sometimes it's about artists and aesthetics and visual identity and what is being sold. But sometimes that can be like extra musical. Sometimes the context surrounding the music is the interesting thing about the music. Sometimes the music isn't the most interesting thing, but it can spur a larger conversation about the world. I think that's what's really valuable about criticism in general, is that a piece about music criticism doesn't necessarily have to be about music alone. It can be about broader culture.

And to the point about Joy Alutakun, like, if you listen to that music, it's pleasant on its face, it's beautifully sung, it's lyrically dense, but also it has so much to say about her experience as a black clear woman in the music industry existing in Nashville, existing in white, quote unquote white-coated spaces. And you can use the music as a jumping off point to think about all those things. And I think that is where I really find value in music writing, is using music as a lens to see the rest of the world. Well, is there anything right now that you're thinking about writing about that maybe you're having a hard time approaching.

Like I'm quite found the way in. Yeah, I've been recently, we lost the rapper Ka, one of the great writers of all time. Absolutely, such as tragic loss. He was sort of a brilliant minimalist, always stripped his music down. There was very little drums. His voice was like,

sort of gravelly and understated. He was speaking to you. He wasn't really yelling at you. But there was a real focus on the writerliness of his music. And as a writer, I have always been in awe of his work. I think when writing is a part of your identity, great writing always resonates with you, no matter the form. And I've always been blown away by songwriting as craft and as self-expression. I've written about his stuff before, but in the wake of his passing, I am trying to find a way into his music,

into the literal mechanics of it that displays something about the world of a human that he was. It can be really difficult to try to merge those two things together because obviously he is so much bigger than the songs that he left. There have been a lot of appreciations of, like, the way that he has influenced other rappers, not just in terms of his art, but in terms of his presence in New York. He was always sort of a bastion for the independent movement in New York and beyond.

And so just trying to get at all of that can be tough to wrap your arms around. Well, Sheldon, if I can offer a little bit of unslellan, if I can offer a little bit of unslemsle, advice about writing about someone who has passed, you feel like you have to make a definitive statement, but the work lives on, you know? And I know for myself, I felt overwhelmed at times trying to write about someone like Bowie, for example, or Prince, obviously. But there were later occasions, and I think that's going to be true for Ka. He wasn't anywhere near as well-known as those icons I cited, but his work will live on. So one thing I try to do when I'm confronted with a difficult subject, whether it's dealing with someone who has left us or just a complex artist who maybe I don't feel totally 100% for, but I'm trying to figure it out, is to remind myself that you and I right now, we're in the very, we're like in a hashtag blessed position because we have the opportunity to think over time through these issues.

And I guess my year with Chapel Rhone is a good example of that. I haven't written about her that much. But just trying to come around and get her and it took me a while. And now I feel like my mind is just like constantly giving me new insights into what she's doing. But it took a while. Sometimes it does take a while. I'm feeling that a little bit for Charlie XX too. We have some Charlie XX super fans on our team.

For me, she's, I respect and admire. her and I'm fascinated with her music, but I don't identify with it very much. So I'm just trying to remind myself how to write about something that I don't necessarily identify with. I think one of the benefits, though, to your point about having the opportunity to work through these issues being a true privilege is that the only answer ever is just to listen more. It's to spend way more time listening, way more time engaging, way more time searching for parallels, for context, for clues, for entry points, trying to find ways into the record, trying to make sense of it for you first. And then once you do that, there's sort of like a door that is unlocked that allows you to sort

of speak that truth into the rest of the world. So beautifully said, Shaldon, I think on that note, we're going to say goodbye to everyone. Thank you so much for listening. You can send your feedback on today's episode to all songs at npr.org. Please leave us a review wherever you get your podcasts. You can subscribe to our newsletter and read about my process and other exciting things we're doing at npr.org slash music newsletter. Make sure you also read Sheldman Pierce's column, which runs pretty much every week on our website. And remember, you can get this show sponsor free and support our work

by joining NPR Music Plus. Go to plus.npr.org slash NPR Music or search for NPR Music and Apple Podcasts to sign up. Today's episode was produced by Simon Retner. Our editor is Jacob Gans. And I'm Ann Powers.

I'm Sheldon Pierce. Come back next week for more new music Friday. Until then, have some happy and deep listening. Thank you.