i was in on a secret
plus the week's best from sipper, the armed, and more
Sometimes when you're in the middle of a life-changing project you can't see the scale of what’s happening. When I was working on Shamir's debut record Ratchet, which turns 10 this week, we all knew something crazy was happening, and it was one of the most special times of my life.
Shamir made his first tracks in the same dingy practice space where all of us on Godmode records made our songs, wedged in between djent-ing metal bands and noisy friends in adjacent rooms. We tracked vocals behind a giant blanket placed on a ladder, we sat and tracked bass on folding chairs, we argued about overdubs while walking to one of two local delis. We were making very insular weird indie rock and pop, seemingly mostly for each other, so when my friend Nick said he was meeting with a new singer from Las Vegas I didn't think anything of it. I was excited to hear what they came up with on the millions of emails and text threads that all of us shared demos and WIP tracks, but didn’t think that many of our lives would forever change.
But from Shamir's debut song, it was very very apparent something was different this time – the tracks caught a seemingly unstoppable wave of attention and coverage, and suddenly XL was involved to help put out a proper debut album. Crazy requests came in from fashion labels, magazines. We all helped as extras in photo shoots, or carried gear to one-off gigs. I claim no credit to any of the sonics or songwriting on the record – I was very happy to have gotten an assistant producer credit (ty Nick!) – but I can’t help but be proud of it, if only from helping the brilliant people making it happen, whether by lending a conga or giving notes on a track’s BPM.
Shamir has had an incredible career since then, moving from dance music to indie pop, country, and beyond – he’s explored his identity and his relationship to fame in fascinating ways – but those urgent songs that kicked it all off will always be my favorites. I'll just never forget listening to the final mixes in a rented Zipcar to make sure that my friend had the bass levels right, or playing a broken MicroKorg at Shamir’s second (third?)-ever show in an art arcade off 14th Street.
The real thrill of being next to Shamir and the folks working on his record is that even though we could tell the world was falling in love with his music, we were too, but for reasons that felt like a secret. We were still in our little rooms, obsessed with the music not because it was about to blow up but because it still felt like it was ours, if only for a moment longer.
He’s ain’t heavy, he’s my pedal – Trap Door Electronics aka Travis from Activity has dropped another stunning fuzz pedal, the Dot Dot Doom, which you can buy starting today
I’m at the Capitol One / I’m at the coffee shop / I’m at the combina– “It was a Thursday afternoon in Union Square and I was ready to listen to some music inside of a coffee shop inside of a bank. Or is the bank inside of the coffee shop?”
FORTY NINE WRITERS??? Craig Jenkins on the dead end Morgan Wallen finds himself in on I’m The Problem
Somehow quotes David Brooks in a way that makes him look smart – Kara Scanlon’s latest looks at the problem of modern convenience through the lens of CS Lewis and it totally works
Yo! MTV Reeds – Enjoy Lou Reed reluctantly hosting 120 Minutes for MTV in 1986
And here’s the best of the week!! As always, you can follow along on our playlists on Spotify and Apple Music, which update (usually) every Tuesday along with the newsletter. Enjoy!
Sipper – Dumb
Sipper, more than almost any nu-bloghouse producer, understands the important of sounding truly gross if your record is going to work. The end result needs to feel transgressive, like it's built for an underground club that would never let you, the pedestrian listener, in. "Dumb" is sticky with sugar-alcohol sweat, open mouth kisses from strangers, and underwear-as-outwear lewdity, pouring unadulterated id over a blunt, ugly bassline that lives up to the song’s name.
The Armed – Well Made Play
This normally isn’t the post-hardcore that I go for, but when “Well Made Play” broke into a free-jazz sax solo a minute in, I was sold. Welcome back The Armed!
Rihanna – Friend Of Mine
This is an anti-recommendation, but I had to put this cash grab atrocity in the playlist because it was one of the most notable songs I heard this week. I know Rihanna’s brand has always been “I don’t give a fuck” but when does insouciance turn to active antagonism? This is barely a Rihanna song – barely a song, really – with one line of her vocals looped, heavily auto-tuned at the top to salvage what must have been ten minutes in the studio. Secure the bag, I guess, but it’s hard not to be incredibly disappointed after three years with no new music from Rihanna, who I’m beginning to believe might actually hate music?
Kilynn Lunsford – Gateway To Hell
Every instrument on Kilynn Lunsford’s debut record sounds like it wasn’t quite working properly, and that she prefers it that way. Echoes clatter, basses plonk, but the exuberant and strange energy in every track thrives amidst the clanking chaos. RIYL Cleaners From Venus, using a tin cup as a cowbell, infinite repeats on a tape echo.
throwback
King Tubby – Sir Nineys Rock
“Sir Nineys Rock” leans into a phased open hi hat and a wobbly, urgent bassline that makes this dub edit sound more like ESG or Liquid Liquid than Studio One. You could easily slip this into your next post-punk DJ night and not lose any urgency on the dancefloor.