Album(s) Of The Week Review #1

LCD Soundsystem — Sound of Silver

So, I’ve never listened to LCD before, for whatever reason. I didn’t even know what they sounded like or what to even expect. And I wasn’t really expecting this 80’s punk meets disco meets electronica.

On the album opener, “Get Innocuous!”, Murphy gives this long, groovy beat, which not only set the tone perfectly, it hooked me instantly. The repetition of the beat and the haziness of the vocals emphasizes its theme of how day-to-day city life wears you down and turns you into an anonymous drone. The next two songs, “Time to Get Away” and “North American Scum,” are a lot more “fun.” The former is a more traditional disco style; it’s interesting to me how he uses disco, possibly the most commercialized genre of music ever, to convey his sense of being monetarily exploited.

“North American Scum” has James Murphy giving this sort-of ironic, talkative vocal performance, where he talks about how being from America isn’t so bad, and is actually good in a lot of ways. It’s probably the most upbeat and positive song on the whole album. But the highlight here is that bassline. It is absolutely incredible. It’s bouncy and lively and sticks out without being overpowering. In fact, that’s probably one thing on the album that truly stands out to me: the basslines in each song are done so well. It’s one thing about the next song, “Someone Great,” that also stood out to me. These deep, heavy bass hits add to the sense of melancholia surrounding the song. Like the album opener, “Someone Great,” a real standout, is a reflection on the advance of time. On “Get Innocuous!” Murphy describes how the repetitive nature of time wears one down. Here, Murphy mourns over a friend, but recognizes that life doesn’t care about your tragedies: it keeps on coming and it doesn’t stop coming, so eventually you just have to move on and keep going with your life.

Another high-point, and another musing on time, “All My Friends” is a mid-life crisis in song form, very much like Talking Heads’ “Once In A Lifetime.” Like that song, “All My Friends” tells of the dangers of just grinding away at life, trying to achieve goals of a house or a family, until one day you wake up and your friends aren’t there and your life is completely different. You may try to go and revisit those days, but if you prioritized working over living, you may have no one left to share those days with. Murphy says it’s better to try and live your life to the fullest: for example, even if his music career suddenly ended, he would still have his memories and his friends. The frenetic piano creates a sense of frenzy and panic one might feel if one suddenly realized their life were a waste.

“Us V Them” is enjoyable, and of a similar structure to “Get Innocuous!” Long, repetitive, very Berling Bowie-esque. It’s a nice reprieve from the emotions of the last two songs. “Watch the Tapes” is another fun, fast paced song about the dangers of partying too much and totally wasting your life. Murphy may think you need to live it up in your youth, don’t completely waste your life. And then “Sound of Silver” bursts in and says “nah, fuck it, being a teenager sucked.” 7 minutes of the same five lines over, again, an incredible bass line, Murphy here points out how nostalgia sometimes makes things better than they were. But that’s kinda the point isn’t it? Looking back, a lot of our most beloved memories and moments are probably pretty stupid. But they mean something to us. That moment was fun or emotional or impactful in some way, but when you focus too much on it it starts to seem kinda lame. But that’s okay.

“New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down” closes out the album with the most “normal” song so far. A piano ballad that builds up to an emotional, rock climax, Murphy muses once again on time and contradictions. The New York he grew up with, or at least, the one he remembers, is different now (sidenote: I did find it interesting that the album is bookended with two songs specifically about New York City). It’s different and worse: commercialized to hell and run by corrupt politicians and brutal cops. It’s too clean now. It’s another example of how time moves on and makes things worse, and your past life was much better. But just like how the title track points out, was the past really better? Or is it just easier to remember the good while you deal with the present’s chaos and future’s uncertainty? Is the New York of today really that much worse than how Murphy remembers it? And he questions this, too: “maybe I’m wrong and maybe you’re right.”

Throughout this whole album, Murphy mourns the past. The lyrics complain about the passage of time, the music is very throwback while being unique. And yet there are these small, occasional hints that it’s only nostalgia that makes the past so good.

I don’t know how to close this and I probably got way too pretentious because I don’t write album reviews, well, ever. So I’ll just end it by saying I really love this album now.

Sylvan LaCue — Apologies in Advance

Sylvan Lacue first gained notice under the name QuESt; in 2014, he dropped a mixtape called Searching Sylvan, which received critical acclaim. I was one of the fans of the mixtape, but I never heard anything more about QuESt. A couple weeks ago, I saw someone raving about this album, Apologies in Advance. I gave it a listen and immediately liked it. It was then that I looked him up and found out it was QuESt, under a new name! He released an album between this one and Searching, but I haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet. While I’m not totally sure why he decided to go by his born-name, it, to me, makes Apologies in Advance feel more personal. The album is framed as a self-help/recovery group therapy session, featuring skits laying out a 12-step program about dealing with mental illnesses.

For the first half of the album, Sylvan identifies his issues and their potential causes. On “Best Me,” he introduces one of the main themes of the album: his desire to be his best self, and how best to achieve that. He discusses the differences between life as a kid and an adult, and identifies how the aspirations he had as a kid have morphed into a goal of self-betterment. It’s something a lot of people want, and that goal becomes especially pertinent for those with anxieties like Sylvan. If your own mind and the world around you keep beating you down and showing you that you won’t ever live up to the goals you had as a kid, sometimes your goal becomes just to get your own shit together. But how can one attain that goal? Especially when you are full of self-doubt and surrounded by pressure to conform. “I am my biggest suppressor whenever it comes to acceptance” Sylvan raps on a later track, “Perfect Imperfections.” “Head Games” points out these issues, and how anxiety or depression or other mental issues can become a roadblock in self-betterment; if you are constantly pointing out your own flaws, you begin to ignore your accomplishments, even small ones.

The next few songs deal with different ways we respond to these anxieties. “Empathy” posits one route: throw yourself into your friends’ issues. When you’re stuck in your own issues, sometimes helping others works, either as a thing to distract you from yourself or as a way to feel useful or wanted. In “Selfish,” Sylvan points out that this isn’t exactly healthy. By ignoring your own health, you make things worse for yourself in the long run. As well, some friends can start to take advantage of you, constantly taking and taking but never helping you in return. So, learn to cut those people out, focus on yourself, go full Kanye. Just keep telling yourself that you are great and eventually you will start to believe it. As Sylvan raps, “How do I not know that I am first?”

Except that doesn’t work either, as “Guilt Trip” and “Coffee Break” point out. When Sylvan tries to focus on himself and his work, he becomes overwhelmed with guilt. And it’s true for those who also suffer from anxiety: cutting everyone out of your life doesn’t make you feel better. You still need something or someone to support you. Sylvan discusses the different kinds of guilt felt when focusing on oneself: there’s the guilt of succeeding when you still have the nagging question of if you deserve it; there’s the guilt of taking any sort of break or rest when you could be working instead; there’s perhaps the religious guilt, of feeling too prideful by focusing on yourself. There’s the question of if even all this work is worth it. Sylvan wants to know if he’ll be remembered, if anyone even cares. But then someone comes to him and tells him the impact his music has had on others, and Sylvan realizes he needs to take a middle path between “Empathy” and “Selfish.”

The album now begins to focus on how to heal. On “Grateful,” Sylvan says to take some time out of your day, take a step back, breathe, and look at the good you’ve done, even the smallest accomplishment. Sylvan notes his progress, and how it’s all come from his own work, the support of others, and by the Grace of God. “P.O.M.E.” discusses the effects our environments have on us. He describes his tough upbringing, where everyone fought for themselves, and how this environment instilled in him his selfish mentality. But in the third part of the song, Sylvan learns to move past the environment. He recognizes that just as our environment affects us, so too can we affect our environment.

Themes of acceptance begin to emerge. We are who we are, flaws and all, so Sylvan says. Since no one is perfect, there is no reason why we should focus so much on our faults. “Perfect Imperfections” responds to the worries of “Head Games” this way. Once we begin accepting our flaws, we can begin focusing on our strengths and accomplishments. And since “nobody’s perfect, who you are is already perfect.” When we accept our whole selves, we can begin to love ourselves, and then eventually others. It becomes easier to love when you aren’t holding you or someone else up to an impossible standard. Furthermore, Sylvan argues on “Love & Sacrifice,” your bond with those who have remained by your side during this whole healing process will becomes stronger. They have been patient and sacrificed, and the ones who were exploiting you in “Empathy” have left. As well,

Apologies in Advance closes out with “5:55,” a reference to Jay-Z’s emotional and introspective album, 4:44. Sylvan learns to become more conscious of his decisions, and he responds to the issues brought up at different points in the album. He’s going to be his best self, and if his best isn’t the best, that’s okay. He recognizes that his actions not only affect him, but those around him and his relationship with God. He’s going to stop letting his past dictate his future. Sylvan ends observing that although he faces inner and outer struggle between two lives, but it is ultimately up to him to be better.

Sylvan here is not saying, “just get over your mental issues. Try just being happy! Go out there, do things!” Instead, he’s recognizing how paralyzing these issues are, and how hard it is to move past them. But ultimately, it is up to the individual to want to be better, to want to love themself. The healing process doesn’t have to be by oneself; friends, religion (if you are religious), and professionals (remember, the album takes place in a group therapy session) all should be a part of the journey. His message is that once we accept who we are and our many imperfections, it becomes easier. Mental issues never really go away, but we can learn to manage them, to accept ourselves as we are, and not be paralyzed by fear.

It’s one thing for Sylvan to present this message of anxieties and healing, it’s another for him to completely nail the execution. Beyond the themes, the album is incredible. Sylvan’s rapping, his flows and his rhyming and his storytelling, shows that he is fulfilling the potential people saw on Searching Sylvan. He wears his Kendrick influence on his sleeve (even using a Kendrick interview in one song), but he does so in a unique enough way that he doesn’t come off as a Kendrick rip-off. He also doesn’t end up as yet another preachy, corny, feel-good rapper (a la Joyner Lucas or J Cole).

The hooks throughout are well done and pretty catchy, and LaCue’s sing-songy rap style works well. Perhaps the weakest part is the beat selection. The beats, mostly done by LaCue, aren’t bad. Most of them are very good. There are just a few that aren’t totally unique from beats other underground, more laid-back rappers are doing. However, there are a number of standouts, such as “Selfish,” “Guilt Trip,” “P.O.M.E.,” and “5:55.” The beat switches on some of the songs also help to prevent them from dragging.

This album is also one of the very few where the skits are not only tolerable, but they are essential to the album. Similar to Kendrick Lamar’s poem on To Pimp A Butterfly, the skits here breakdown the meanings of the songs preceding and following them, while the final skit, “Step 12,” encapsulates the entire message of the album, mainly, that acceptance of one’s self leads to healing. It’s very early, but so far I could see this being near the top of my end of the year list, and is an album I’m going to listen to a lot more.