Another day, another “real” artist bites the dust. I loved Santigold’s first album. I stood by her while the rest of the music industry collectively wrote her off as a bootleg version of M.I.A. But, in the almost four years that she went without releasing new material, I forgot why I fell in love with her music. So, it pains me to write that Santigold, again playing second fiddle to M.I.A., has become the Jesus Christ of Indie music, bearing the cross of obscurity, smug “authenticity” and a seriously warped view of popular music that can only be compared to “rockstar envy.”
“Often the Muse will not respond to direct and logical requests. She must be lured in with the playful and gentle” – Jill Badonsky
Good music speaks volumes… rather than impose analysis, step back and expose linguistic artistry… why critique that which has achieved perfection at its own masterful conception… listen, look, and linger in fantastic rhythmic reality: lyrically speaking
Russian artist Rinat Shingareev‘s Facebook page proudly proclaims he’s the “best artist alive.” I know, I know, you’ve heard that before. Rinat may or may not be the best, especially when legends like Ron English, Banksy and Kehinde Wiley are still well, alive and very productive. But the 25-year old artist, is on to something very extraordinary.
Slang words come and go like pop songs. Because the minute something becomes a meme for the sake of hits, it’s a wrap for it’s “authenticity” factor. For every enduring term like “cool” or “dope” there’s an embarrassing “bling, bling” or “bootylicious” to remind of us how stupid we can be. Now I don’t Belieb everything I read, but when Justin Bieber is at the forefront of anything, let alone a term popularized by our Hip-Hop Leviathans, I think it’s time for something else.
Let’s get this straight; I’m not here to tell you her story or her claim to fame. I simply want to commend the meanest female artist dominating the Hip Hop game. No, she ain’t Nicki nor is she Kim; this bitch bites harder. Harnessing the world with “212,” her House-meets-Hip Hop-meets-dirty Harlem princess single, Azealia Banks conquered before she even came. Locks braided long like Rapunzel and lips smothered in sweet cherry gloss, she shows the streets who’s the baddest bitch on the block. From performing in her Harlem, NY stomping grounds to Karl Lagerfield’s private party to her in-progress world tour, she brings the lyricism, the cutie-pie street swag, and the sex appeal with her. As we let this untamed artist run free, keep in mind this is only the beginning. #boom
The Carrie Bradshaw Syndrome: Is Narcissism Directly Connected to Quality of Art?
I love “Sex and the City.” I’m just going to throw that out there right now, because it is true and there is no point in denying it, especially within the context of this article. I am a gay man so it may not come as a huge surprise to many, though there are many gay critics of the show, especially of the Brooklyn hipster persuasion (don’t be offended, you know it’s true). Though I enjoy the show’s many episodes and movies (the second one not so much), there are certain aspects of the show that I find irritating, based mostly on the fact that they exaggerate aspects of New York City life dramatically. Being a former New Yorker, I can safely say that my days and weeks were not filled with gallery openings and fabulous dinners at chic new restaurants. Life in New York was hard, albeit fabulous, despite my limited means.
Read More