Music production
fromPitchfork
2 days agoThis Is the Best Drake Song of the 2020s
Moody Drake-era R&B loosies capture raw, impulsive dating melodrama that later hardens into darker incel ballad themes.
It's easy to think of music as ephemeral and essentially free, rather than a thing you can dotingly select, acquire, and present to your nearest and dearest. Yet music is a courageous and intimate gift. For decades, lovers-would-be; actual-have deployed painstakingly compiled mixtapes to communicate emotions that felt impossible to express otherwise. Music is a useful, even sacred way to commune with another consciousness.
The burnt-rubber scent of Pelle Pelle jackets in the air can mean only one thing: Max B is free. Inside of his welcome home party at Harbor, one of those Midtown Manhattan money-suck nightclubs that tries to get you and your friends to pony up your rent money on a section, I was surrounded by so many Uptown dudes draped in heavy leather that I flashed back to the black-and-red joint Max rocked in a classic interview he did with Mazi O.
Yet for as many 99-cent songs as were purchased in the 2000s, anyone who spent time on that era's file-sharing networks can verify that the LP was still the most important unit for music obsessives. And it has remained so-albums are the venue for the most niche and audacious creative projects; they remain the organizing principle for press cycles and stadium tours; no one has gold mp3s hanging on their studio walls.