Album Review by Eddie J., Contributing Writer
 
Likes: Cruel Summer, Death By A Thousand Cuts, False God, You Need to Calm Down
Dislikes: Cornelia Street, Me!, The Man
Overall: Overwhelmingly bright and 80's reminiscent; a somewhat disjointed album with enjoyable (though not infectious) pop tracks and ballads
 
Taylor Swift's new album Lover indicates a shift in her vantage point from her last release Reputation, which was notably scathing towards past boyfriends, her former label Big Machine Records, and the Kim-Ye phone-gate scandal. Joyful staccato chords rhythmically ring from a grand piano in Lover's opener "I Forgot That You Existed," as Swift sets the tone singing, "How many days did I spend thinking 'bout how you did me wrong?" The bubbly mid-tempo song resolves with, "It isn't love, it isn't hate, it's just indifference." If Reputation was the pain Swift endured for a night, Lover is her joy that came in the morning. While this kind of 'shift' isn't a new phenomena with artists, it's always gratifying for the listener if it's done properly (e.g. Marvin Gaye's political What's Going On? was followed by the sensual Let's Get It On). The record's theme is one of varying degrees of love:  platonic, familial, self, and of course, romantic (which is in the driver's seat majority of the time).
 
Musically, the bulk of Lover can be described as 'summertime in the 80's,' with synths, percussive bass lines, and major chords galore. Swift's predilection for this nostalgic sound works for her here, just as it did on 1989. It separates her from the current trend of blending pop with trap hip-hop (something she flirted with on Reputation), and it reintroduces her extensive use of an acoustic guitar. She doesn't deliver an over-saturation of cliché commercial ditties, as the album's singles and her previous history would suggest, however. "Death By A Thousand Cuts" is probably the most experimental track, merging classical choral arrangements with folksy acoustic guitars, and arpeggiating harps. All evolve verse to verse, while Taylor holds the fort vocally and lyrically. "False God" casually mixes a jazzy sax riff with mid-tempo electro elements and sparse synthesizers, as if the combination is commonplace. "Soon You'll Get Better," featuring background harmonies by The Dixie Chicks, is a stripped-bare country ballad, with only guitars, banjos and vocals. It's the most personal cut, depicting Swift's emotional state during her mother's battle with cancer. The album as a whole effortlessly changes tempo and musical trajectory through each number, giving the perception that it's shorter than the overwhelming 18 tracks it contains. In addition, many of the songs are around three minutes in length and don't drag on longer than necessary (aside from “Cornelia Street”). This works in the LP's favor, as the compositions are largely straightforward loops that can get very redundant after awhile. 
 
As to be expected, Swift's lyricism is exceptional. Her colorful and imagery-laden illustrations are conflated with her emotions in each song, such as being "drunk in the back of the car," while crying "like a baby"  to reflect her desperation in "Cruel Summer." Nothing is poorly written outside of "Me!," even if the music or melodies don't hold the rest up, like in "The Man." There's not a lot of new ground covered topically, so it stands out when Swift leans towards social or controversial subjects, which seems to be her intention. The concept of "False God" is one of her most daring. Lines like "Religion's in your lips; even if it's a false god, we'd still worship," are sure to rile up Bible Belt Swifties. Resounding excerpts like the harmonized "Shade never made anybody less gay!" on "You Need To Calm Down," and "I'd get there quicker if I was a man" on "The Man" shine a light onto Swift's sociopolitical views and values. The overstated-ness in the content is an exclamation; Swift made sure not to clamor with any figurative language, so that her points are crystal clear. 
 
There aren't many drawbacks to Lover, but the few flaws are blatant. The lack of pop potency is chief among them. Swift showed with 1989 and Reputation that she was capable of creating infectious pop, and crafting a highly cohesive concept album. 1989 had quite a bit of filler, but the songs that weren't (i.e. "Style," "Shake It Off," and "Bad Blood") attached themselves to your subconscious mind after one listen. Reputation had the same contagious quality and conceived a dark, stirring ambiance (ex. "Look What You Made Me Do," "Gorgeous," "End Game"). Lover has a couple of songs that can get stuck in your head, but only after several listens. The wonder of a Taylor Swift pop album is how she brilliantly pairs relatable and clever lyricism with catchy melodies, and has a full-fledged production team to complete the package. With this project, the wonder is replaced with a formulaic approach. Swift's musicality is very particular and arguably limited, so her work will seem "run of the mill" when both infectiousness and an intriguing concept are missing.

Album Review by Eddie J., Contributing Writer
Likes: Self Control, Solo (Reprise), Close To You
Dislike: Nike, Ivy, Seigfried
Overall: A quasi-artistic album of avant-garde filler, with occasional melodic promises that only prove to delude the listener.
 
The incomparable Janet Jackson once said, "There's something to be said for not saying anything." I'm starting this review with this quote because it's the "something to be said" for Frank Ocean's "not saying anything" sophomore LP Blond (the French spelling of the masculine adjective “blonde”). After a 4-year sabbatical being an elusive chanteur, Ocean comes back with a left-field sounding, scandal-inducing and highly underwhelming double release (Blond comes with a visual album entitled Endless that was essentially a throw-away project he made to scam his label, à la Joanne The Scammer). Although there are genuine instances of harmonic and melodic beauty (ex. "Self Control), as well as insightful lyrical realizations (ex. "Nights" discusses cowardice and hypocrisy in equality pursuits), you can't fully appreciate them for being bombarded by their monotonous and aimless surroundings. The 10% of beauty and "ah ha!" moments aren't worth enduring the 90% of gloomy (yet airy) and repetitive production choices, and extensive, droning verses that might as well be him talking. Scam.
 
When he's actually singing, Ocean sounds amazing. The vocal performances throughout the record were for the most part entrancing, especially when he emotes. His lower register takes the cake over his higher chest and head voice. In some cases, he uses his voice in more unconventional means, such as purposefully singing out of tune or using the "Prisimizer" effect in "Close to You" (an effect that manipulates a single vocal and produces synthesized harmonies in sync with that vocal). The production is evasive, but not entirely unattainable. I acknowledge this style of music isn't so far beyond the realm of being listenable, and it can be done in an effective manner. Although it doesn't suit my personal taste, it has an interesting quality where you can get used to it after the initial shock of lacking rhythmic percussion and the overuse of simplistic, ceaseless chord progressions wears off. Since it takes up to half of the album for this sensory adaptation to occur, re-listening to Blond will be required.
 
It would be erroneous to not also acknowledge that Frank Ocean is a genius as it pertains to creativity and album concepts. The subtle touching on various subjects, like sexuality, race, religion, drug use and self-worth in the face of meaningful, but unhealthy relationships (friendships, familial and romantic) are worth noting. It's clear that he had a direction in compiling this body of work. The problems, however, are painstakingly obvious and Ocean's genius wasn't enough to cover them. This project was too big of an endeavor for him at this time, as he doesn't seem to have a fully-developed artistic identity yet. It can be assumed that Frank has a perception of himself that doesn't necessarily translate well on wax. Take for instance the opening song, "Nike," a commentary on the consumerist and materialistic social climate that has affected our psyche. The beginning lines make the song's point clear, but Ocean ends up rambling in a stream of consciousness, going from bragging about his sexual performance (i.e. "But if you need dick I got you...") to referencing the unlawful death of teen Trayvon Martin literally two lines afterwards. Further, the Martin lyric is purposively aware, but is a crass dismissal of the racial climate that lead to his death (i.e. "RIP Trayvon, that ni**a look just like me"). It's not that Frank can't pull a record of this caliber off; I just don't think he has the tools in his arsenal right now to make it happen in such a way that will leave people in awe or with a changed perspective on life.

Rock&Rant-Quick rants about music.
By Eddie J., Contributing Writer

So, anytime a hip-hop/rap or R&B artist who may or may not have some kind of credibility as a lyricist releases a new record, these click-bait "X Amount of Writers are Credited on ____'s New Album" articles always seem to pop up. The purpose is usually to subliminally invalidate the artist's skill-set and fuel debates on whether they're talented or not. It's been done with Kanye West (The Life of Pablo had 103 writers), Beyoncé (Lemonade=72 writers) and now Drake (Views=81 writers). That sounds like a lot of Pablos, views and gallons of lemonade, but hold up! There's a little technicality to be mindful of. Not even half of the individuals listed did any literal writing. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if no more than 10 people actually assisted. Let me explain...
 
Often in hip-hop/rap and R&B, there's this cute thing called sampling that happens, where portions of a song by someone else are mixed in. When this is done, the song and its original writers typically have to be cited for legality's sake (e.g., "This song contains replayed elements from 'You Tried It' by Tamar Braxton"). Those few of us who still buy physical copies (and read liner notes) and others who frequent Wikipedia, see these sample lists. The remaining majority who don't are prime takers of the click-bait and pass it along to the other fish that such and such artist doesn't write their own rhymes or can't stand on their own.
 
Take Drake's "U with Me" (featured on Views) for example. It contains samples of "What These B*tches Want" and an interpolation of "How's It Goin' Down," both by DMX. Breaking this down, "What These B*ches Want" was written by Earl Simmons (DMX's real name), Mark Andrews, Tamir Ruffin and Phillip Weatherspoon. "How's It Goin Down" was written by DMX and Anthony Fields. When you remove those names from "U With Me" in the credits, you have only Drake, PARTYNEXTDOOR, Dave Goode and the producers: 40, Kanye West, DJ Dahi, AxlFolie and Vinylz. 13 writers just went down 8.
 
This brings me to my next point: also in hip-hop music, producers are almost always included as songwriters in the notes. This is probably in part to how hands-on producers are in creating the music or melodic ideas the artist uses. Taking into account how limited credits are in showing the true extent of each person's contribution, a "producer" can be a composer, someone who programmed the drums, or made with the chorus melody that the song was developed around. In that case, it makes sense to consider this kind of work "writing." However, this doesn't mean that Drake, Nicki Minaj or Kanye West are sitting in a room full of 10 other people taking different bits and pieces of lyrics to make a song. These times are occasional, and rarely involve more than 2 or 3 people tops, which is the average amount of writers on a song in any genre.
 
Finally, some rappers are simply best at their primary job of rapping and need to bring in help for choruses, hooks and catchy moments in their verses. Just because one can receive points on a song for doing this, it doesn't mean the artist they worked for is lacking talent or capability. It's assumed that hooks are easy to form, but it requires a particular skill. It's fairly uncommon in the realm of hip-hop/rap that artists can come up with great hooks naturally because their focus is choosing a topic, inventively approaching said topic, punch-lines, voice inflections/delivery, rhyme structure/pattern and verse variation. It may take a village for your favorite song or album to be made, but that never has anything to do with how good or bad the artist is at lyricism or overall. So feel free to take this red pill with a tall glass of lemonade, and enjoy the views.

By Eddie J., Contributing Writer

Dear Lifetime,

I know you don't know me, or care to hear a blogger's input on the new collection of moving images you’ve just released entitled Aaliyah: Princess of R&B, so I'm not going to critique your “movie” or call it bad. I just have a legitimate survey for everyone involved in the project, including the actors that helped make it possible.

1) Do you know what due diligence (AKA research) is?
2) If so, was it done for this movie?
3) *Tamar Braxton voice* Are we sure?
4) Why was there auto-tune? 
5) Why did Aaliyah only own 2 pairs of sweatpants for the first 5 years of her career? 
6) Why couldn't homegirl (i.e. Alexandra Shipp) dance, especially since she was, you know, portraying someone known for choreography? 
7) Did the budget go over before a choreographer was booked?
8) Why did R. Kelly look like Treach from Naughty by Nature? 
9) Why was the Eiffel tower in England?
10) Why didn't anyone, including "Aaliyah," know how to correctly pronounce her name? It’s not Uh-liyah. It’s Aa-liyah, like Muhammad Ali, which brings me back to question 2.
11) Why was her dad African? 
12) Why did we get 2014 Missy Elliott portrayed in 1994? 
13)...With Kelly Rowland's old lopsided hairdo? 
14) Why did Damon Dash look like Shaun T with Sharpie tattoos? 
15) Why was pedophilia praised and romanticized in the film? 
16) Why was every character in the realm of light-skinned? 
17) Why do I have a light-skinned friend AND a dark skinned friend that looks like Missy Elliott, thanks to your movie depiction?
18) Why was 2012's "Make a Little Room" by Jarvis, background music for a scene set in 1992?
19) How did Iggy Azalea make the movie score/trailer?
20) Did we REALLY need two "kiss" scenes between a depicted 27-year-old R. Kelly with a 15-year-old Aaliyah?
21) Why did Kidz Bop provide the backing tracks for these songs?
22) Why could we see the camera crew's reflection in several scenes?
23) So...Aaliyah's parents were WRONG for ending R. Kelly's pedophilic relationship with Aaliyah?
24) ...And Aaliyah was mad at them and heartbroken over it for 8 years?
25) Did losing some rights to Aaliyah's image mean losing rights to her talent as well?
26) When in the One in a Million era did Aaliyah grind on shirtless men and feel on their abs?
27) Was this a prank?
28) Do you know what Aaliyah's name means?
29) No? Well...look it up and then tell us the irony of the movie you made.

In conclusion:
Dear White People (yeah we're going there, briefly): this just in...Making a movie about a black celebrity solely for capital gain with no knowledge or care for their legacy is a form of racism.
Dear Black People: Even if the struggle is real for you as an actor, writer, producer, etc., think twice before you put your name on someone else's material as a blatant pawn. Money isn't always worth respect.

P.S.: I hope you fire the “genius” who saw Aaliyah trending on Twitter twice a year for the last 6 years or so and thought "We could make money off this! And show this film twice a year--her birthday and day of death!" 

P.S.S: You tried it...and failed.

P.S.S.S.S.: Oh, and extend to your lead actress too, if no one else. “Try Again,” your alleged favorite Aaliyah song, was on the 2000 Romeo Must Die soundtrack, not from the One in a Million album in 1996, Alexandra.

Signed,

Eddie J.

Note from J.Says: I did not watch this “movie,” nor did I want to, especially after I learned that talk-show host Wendy Williams, who shamelessly makes her money spreading lies and festering rumors about public figures and jokes about their misfortunes, became an executive producer. After reading reviews, it’s confirmed I made the right decision to not support it with my ratings. Just the notion that Aaliyah’s life and legacy would not be done justice is severely unsettling and upsetting to me. I commend Zendaya Coleman, the film’s original lead, for having the courage to back away because she felt the same way. I hope eventually there will be a quality piece of work that will expose Aaliyah to those unfamiliar with her. This project coming to fruition just makes me miss her more.

Album Review by @EddieJSays, Contributing Writer 
Likes: Restart, Like I Can, Good Thing
Dislikes: Stay With Me, Lay Me Down
Overall: Decent album, typical lyrics, great voice and production.

Scratching the itch of Adele fans or lovers of eccentric Euro-soul, the very talented Sam Smith arises with his 1st LP, In the Lonely Hour. Filled with mostly slow and mid-tempo numbers, the album treads on being a bit of a drag, only being saved by his vocal performance and the creative and crisp production of Jimmy Napes, Steve Fitzmaurice and E.G. White, among others. The songwriting is decent for the most part, but doesn’t delve far enough with creativity for my personal taste. Knowing that this album was Sam’s love letter to a guy he had a crush on, I expected a bit more expressive bang due to the fact that imagination was mostly involved in the making of these songs. Sadly his imagination ran thin, only jumping from the topic of “wanting” someone to the topic of “losing” someone (arguably the same person), making the album a bit too repetitive by the 4th song.

Aside from these issues, the album is still very enjoyable, relying on the same song structure, rhythms (e.g. “Like I Can” uses the same 8th-note driven rhythm of guitar chords from “Rolling in the Deep”), piano/acoustic guitar focus, melancholy and soulful delivery that made Adele a huge crossover success, minus obviously personal lyrics. The writing had such a feel of general application. Smith powerfully emotes, but there’s nothing in the lyrics to carry the emotion in an effective, honest, raw or hard-hitting fashion. In terms of production, it’s usually lazily done on albums in Smith’s genre when there are live instruments, with preset leveling and less attention to detail. In the Lonely Hour’s team was present and proactive: tracks like “Good Thing” and “I’m Not the Only One” keep the natural warmth and resounding timbre of Smith’s voice at the forefront, while maintaining the tonal integrity of the accompanying instruments, and bonus tracks like “Restart” and “La La La” incorporate Euro-pop and disco. Even with all this production magic, Smith played it too safe and ended up sounding like a watered down Adele, which isn’t “bad;” just not amazing. However, I’m now really excited and anxious for a new Adele album. 

Album Review by @EddieJSays, Contributing Writer
Likes: Camouflage, Heavenly, Money, Cry
Dislikes: #Beautiful (only because the lyrics are ridiculously childish)
Overall: Great cohesive album with a great balance of upbeat songs and power ballads. Typical subject matter filled with emotion, all encompassed in great production.

As the music industry becomes more dichotomized into either generic pop fluff and mind-numbing, bass-rattling trap beats or music with raw emotion, meaning and genuine essence, it's very understandable how someone like Mariah Carey can be a veteran, yet "out of touch" with the current, ever-changing genre trends. After two albums full of then-current, now-dated, forgettable ditties with one or two gems in the midst, Carey finally let go of trying and simply gave us her essence in her rawest, most unfiltered form with "Me. I Am Mariah...The Elusive Chanteuse."

The album's subject matter revolves around Carey's favorite topics: love, loss of love and human relations (the best way I can describe songs like "Thirsty"). The songs are all great and cohesively blend well. They don't tell a story like her "Charmbracelet" and "Rainbow" albums, which is good because it doesn’t sound forced. Mariah, as a bonus, sounds like she's having fun on the upbeat songs. There is honestly not one "bad" song on this album, though, naturally, some songs are stronger than others. I personally was quite disappointed with the song Stevie Wonder was featured on (“Make it Look Good”). Although it wasn't bad, I expected it to be more organic and less sampled/looped with Wonder simply adlibbing on the harmonica. Aside from this, the features don't disappoint; Wale, Nas and even Fabolous all added a different dimension to the songs and refrained from being “filler” rappers. “Supernatural” stands out as Carey sings of motherhood and her children, Monroe and Moroccan ("Roc and Roe" or "Dem Babies" as Mariah would say), are featured. Monroe sings a line and Moroccan harmonizes at the end once the music stops. 

It's clear from this album that Carey no longer has the silky, honey-smooth chest voice timbre she did for the first decade of her career, but she still has her signature tonality, textures, impeccable range and control. Her chest voice is very brittle, though the high and low extremes are clear and intact. No more in denial about her current vocal capabilities, she has even learned to emote with the voice she has. The vulnerability in "You're Mine," the heartache in "Camouflage," the hopelessness in "Cry" and the newfound hope in "Heavenly" are in the forefront of her delivery. Without even trying, Carey leaves vocal traces of "Old Mariah" all around this album in various nooks and crannies of songs, like the opening ballad "Cry." She effortlessly soars through all 5 octaves of her range and although there are occasional, obvious "cut and paste" vocal runs throughout (especially in the gospel meets old-school hip-hop number "Heavenly"), Carey's voice is undoubtedly the pinnacle of this album, not getting washed out in the production like in her previous release “Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel.” The biggest highlights on this album are hands down "Camouflage" and "Heavenly." There's something about hearing emotion in Carey's voice that brings you closer to her, even if the song's message doesn't hit you the first time. "Camouflage" focuses on being in a relationship with someone who has lost their feelings. She ingeniously puts both people in the realm of "camouflage," singing "I camouflage my tears," juxtaposed with "you wear your disguise," where the lover pretends to still be in love. "Heavenly" is a cover of Mary Mary's "Can't Give Up Now" (which is a rendition of the hymnal "No Ways Tired"). Carey's natural alto resonance brings the verses to life, saving the belting and whistles for the big acapella ending with an unforgettable, finalizing riff.

What J. Has To Say: 
One of the biggest obstacles for an act of Mariah Carey’s caliber and longevity is maintaining inspiration and a freshness. The downfall of many is that they resort to adhering too closely to trends, which are often fickle. I feel that over her last 2 records, Carey struggled to find her groove or happy medium and remain motivated. Leading up to the release of “Me. I Am Mariah...The Elusive Chanteuse," it seemed she was still directionless, but the final product displays a comfortable Mariah Carey rebuilding the foundation for a path. I love the warm, summery, vintage, unpretentious essence of the album. It made me crave for her to do a record entirely with a 70’s, 80’s and throwback rap feel and explore the sound of the New York music scene she grew up with that her former label, Columbia, was hesitant to let her play with (as she explained in the hip-hop documentary, “The Tanning of America). When I was listening to “Me. I Am Mariah…”, the pseudo-cover “Don’t Stop” from the “Glitter” soundtrack kept coming to mind, which sampled “Funking for Jamaica (N.Y.)” by Queens-bred jazz artist Tom Browne (with vocals by Toni Smith) from 1980. If there is any issue, it’s that there aren’t any tracks, in my opinion, that are contagious or especially affecting. I didn’t have a “Yeah, that’s my jam!” or a “crying in the corner” moment. My last notes: “Thirsty” doesn’t fit with the rest of the tracklist and the protruding use of the F-word on “#Beautiful” was unnecessary, throws off the vibe and kind of ruins the song for me.

Likes: Dedicated, #Beautiful, You Don't Know What to Do, Camouflage 
Dislikes: Thirsty

A Career Analysis.
By @EddieJSays, Contributing writer

Mariah Carey’s newest single "The Art of Letting Go" (from a forthcoming album of the same title) is a beautiful 1960s-styled R&B ballad that (once more) tackles her favorite subject: being heartbroken and trying to get over it (AKA the themes of albums “The Emancipation of Mimi,” ““E=MC2,” Rainbow, etc.). A refreshing turn away from the "Doctor, I was too patient" idioms Carey spewed throughout the previous record, “Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel,” the lyrics are deep in some areas and vapid in others; it’s as if her “Butterfly” era is meeting that of “Memoirs.” Musically, there’s just an average approach, but I do commend her and Jermaine Dupri for using an orchestra, since live instrumentation was abandoned in Carey's catalogue for roughly 8 years now (sans the 2nd Christmas album). Overall, “Art” leaves little to be desired, but it does make one question why it was chosen as a single and the album title track, due to its lack of commercial appeal and easily forgettable chorus. Again, it seems Carey is forcing herself to write what she thinks people want to hear instead of just allowing things to organically grow and flourish. Vocally on “Art,” she’s in limbo between being great/decent and sounding strained and damaged. I hope that this single isn't the big highlight of her new album and that there will be much better vocals. I'm not deterred from the project yet, but I'm not hungry for more either. Mariah Carey can be defined as one of the most versatile and adaptable artists in history, both musically and vocally. These qualities are what has sustained her to a loyal worldwide audience for 2 decades, and on the flip-side, probably put her into a corner where she feels she can go nowhere else creatively. Progressively, changes in her artistic approach and image have landed Carey in stagnancy (and lower-selling music), and not only am I going to explain how that is, but I’m going to suggest how she can get out of this mess.

Mariah Carey started off with a golden and alluring girl-next-door image. Reserved but fairly open, Carey made herself identifiable as she discussed her past life in poverty, encountering racism as a biracial youth and her struggles as a burgeoning artist. This warm aura matched with her wide and powerful range, silky vocal texture and infectious songwriting lead listeners to instantly embrace Carey from her buzz-creating first major appearance at the 1990 NBA Finals (she performed “America The Beautiful”), which resulted in her first few albums selling over 23 million copies combined and making history as the first artist since the Jackson 5 to have her opening four singles top the Billboard Hot 100. In spite of all the success, Carey was miserable and felt creatively stunted. Married to then-Columbia Records CEO Tommy Mottola, the “never mix business with pleasure” rule applied, as Carey accounted that Mottola was overly possessive and controlling, strictly dictating that she never wear clothing showing any skin and that she remain home if she wasn’t working. On the final cut of the “Daydream” album, “Looking In,” she purportedly addressed her feelings of creative bondage, stating: “Well, here I am for all the pen to bleed, but they can't take my heart from me and they can't bring me to my knees; they'll never know the real me.” Taking control of her music and persona and divorcing Mottola, a liberated Carey would be heard on 1997’s “Butterfly;” an album exalted by fans for its distinctive shift in sound (more R&B & hip-hop), image (slinky, short & revealing) and quality. Record label executives generally discourage artists from making major changes, for fear that the artist will lose their niche of the market. The concern was valid as “Butterfly” didn’t sell as well as Carey’s previous 2 albums. However, Carey made Columbia $7 billion before the end of the decade.

By 1999, Mariah was a hot commodity and only knocking on 30, but she hadn’t taken a break since her career began, releasing 7 studio albums within 9 years. Between recording, tours and promotion, Carey’s voice (and body) was beginning to succumb to constant wear and tear. While her whistle, head voice and lower register remained well intact, her chest voice sounded more husky and brittle, making some of her older songs more blatantly difficult to perform.  In 2001, Mariah had reached her breaking point as she left Columbia and signed an $80 million, 4-album deal with Virgin Records; the soundtrack to “Glitter” (Carey’s film debut) was the first release. Prior to the album drop, Carey was hospitalized for an emotional and mental breakdown. Intensifying matters, the “Glitter” film was panned by critics and its soundtrack only sold 501,000 units; partly because it was released the same week as the 9/11 terrorist attacks in the U.S. The next year, Virgin paid Mariah $49 million to leave and her contract was dissipated. She signed with Island Def Jam soon after with “Charmbracelet.” While the album was intended to be marketed as a “comeback,” it sold just over a million units in the U.S. with no singles touching the top 40 or even top 60, which was considered a commercial failure, given Carey’s history. 

By @EddieJSays, Contributing Writer

On October 21st, VH1 finally premiered the highly publicized and anticipated TLC biopic “CrazySexyCool: A TLC Story.” Being one of the biggest fans of the group there is, I was SO excited to hear about it. I know just about everything there is to know about each TLC member and their personal struggles, so the idea of seeing it play out in cinematic format had me on the edge of my seat…at least initially. 

There was much promise upon the beginning of the film, leading right before Tionne “T-Boz” Watkins and Lisa “Left-Eye” Lopes got discovered, signed and moved through the process of finding a new member (which ended up being Rozonda “Chilli” Thomas; more on that in a moment) and recording their 1st album. The 150 minute (including commercials) movie was great for those who didn’t know TLC’s back story and it gave a little insight on the climate of the music industry at that time. The performances from lead actresses Drew Sidora (T-Boz), Lil’ Mama (Left-Eye) and Keke Palmer (Chilli) were surprisingly good (with Lil’ Mama shining through as the best actress of the film), in addition to Rochelle Aytes, who portrayed the group’s 1st manager, Perri “Pebbles” Reid.

The movie was a great summary of the ladies’ perils and triumphs as one the best-selling female groups of all time, however, my qualm as a fan was the fact it was just that—a summary. Its brevity of their most successful album eras (i.e. “Crazy.Sexy.Cool” and “FanMail”) and over-magnification of somewhat interesting, yet trivial conflicts made the movie come off as a dramatized, cliff-notes version of “Behind the Music” (TLC’s “Behind the Music” debatably did more in 1 hour than this film did in 2 and 1/2 ). It ultimately left certain facts seem more elusive and not clarified, than express the whole truth for what it was.

Firstly, the movie was extremely biased. In Left-Eye’s absence, T-Boz and Chilli were the ones who constructed and pitched the TLC story to VH1 script-writers, and that, ironically, was probably more of a minus than a plus because aspects of their background were told from a limited perspective and presented as truth without further explanation. For example, the firing of Crystal Jones (the original “C” in TLC) was attributed in the film to her inability to sing/perform in front of L.A. Reid and Pebbles during an audition. However, according to Jones, the reality was since she was the original lead of the group (she called auditions to form a group to begin with), Pebbles privately presented her with the contract first and when Jones insisted on showing the contract to her mother for further review, Pebbles later encouraged T-Boz and Left-Eye to oust her. To put it in perspective, if Jones was such a poor performer, how did she get the chance to exclusively audition for her own group before introducing the group to Arista Records/Pebbletone? How did the group record demos under the name of 2nd Nature with producers like Jermaine Dupri if she was so terrible? Maybe T-Boz got the impression that Jones’ singing was to blame because that’s what she was told or maybe there was an instance where Jones bombed a performance. Jones’ story wasn’t the only one that fell prey to the limited perspective.

Album Review by @EddieJSays, Contributing writer

Likes: Fireflies, Putcha' Body Down, Heaven Lost an Angel
Dislikes: My Baby
Overall: Breaks out from the Disney mold, better vocals than expected

For anyone who is on the fence like I was as to whether or not “Shake It Up” Disney newcomer Zendaya has any real vocal ability, in addition to being a great comedic actress who can dance her butt off, you might want to take a listen to her new self-titled debut album.

Surprisingly enough, Zendaya’s sound isn’t easily recognizable as a “Disney girl” (as her 1st single “Replay” sort of hinted at) and that alone sets her and the album a part from the rest of her predecessors. Disney-affiliated debut albums are usually “kiddy bopper” ones with mind-numbing ditties that no one over 16 wants to admit to knowing the lyrics of. However, Zendaya’s is actually quite musically mature and has an urban (yes, urban) sound throughout that incorporates the high-tech bells and whistles from the dubstep, techno and EDM genres we’ve all grown to “love” over the last few years. The production is solid: every bass-thump rumbles the subwoofer with purpose and the music is just as infectious as the melodies being sung over them. The rhythmic natures of songs like “Putcha Body Down” and “Only When You’re Close” make it obvious the album is dance hip-hop influenced.

Vocally, Zendaya has introduced herself as any singer who wants longevity in this industry should: she cherishes her vocal strengths, knows her limits (with both range and texture) and how to utilize vocal tricks in a way that keeps the listener impatiently waiting for the next showcase. Her best vocal feature is her airy, soaring head-voice, where she performs a variety of versatile runs. Her chest voice has a thin, Taylor Swift quality to it, which may thicken as she grows a little more as a vocalist and maintains more character (she’s only 17). Her voice has a distinctive quality, having more dexterity than a Cassie or a Rihanna, but not as refined as her contemporary, Ariana Grande. Her knowing what she lacks as a singer ironically adds to the enjoyment of the record because we are literally mystified as to what her vocal weaknesses are (aside from the tone of her chest voice, which she can’t help right now), giving the perception of a vocally seamless and coherent project.

The songs are catchy and have a witty and illustrative lyrical quality, but they don’t go beyond the topic of love and how a guy is supposed to make her feel. “Fireflies” (written by Dawn Richard and produced Harmony Samuels) is enjoyable in every regard as well as the soft-spoken, mid-tempo “Cry for Love.” “Heaven Lost An Angel” has a nice new-aged 80s theme and the Nick Jonas-written “Love You Forever” is a great summer-into-fall jam, having a melancholy undertone, while the actual percussion keeps the tempo at a head-bobbing pace. Literally, the album as a whole is appealing, cohesive and flawless. Here is my only real qualm, and this goes for most of these newer artists: what is the deal with putting the crappiest song at the end of the album?! I was enjoying the ride and then “My Baby” comes on and I’m ready to push stop and try to erase the song from my cerebral cortex. The song sounds like it belongs in 2002 and should have a rap feature with Mannie Fresh and Juvenile or the Franchise Boys. To add to it, it’s her worst vocal performance on the entire album.

Nonetheless, Zendaya is a star in the making, with the full package of singing, dancing and acting. Hopefully, she can break the Disney curse and become even more successful and potentially an icon. For now, we can settle for great consistent albums with amazing production and her clear, crisp, puerile voice maintaining the attention of teenagers and adults alike. That in itself is a feat that most Disney girls before her couldn’t claim at her age.

Album Review by @EddieJSays, Contributing Writer

Likes: “Q.U.E.E.N,” “Electric Lady,” “PrimeTime,” “It’s Code,”“Victory,” “Sally Ride”
Dislikes: “What an Experience”
Overall: A must buy, for anyone who enjoys great quality music, lyrics, and vocals.

Although this is only her sophomore album, many doubts, as well as hopes, were invested in Janelle Monae’s ability to top the musical masterpieces that were her debut album “The Archandroid” and EP “Metropolis: The Chase Suite,” both in the funk filled, R&B sci-fi series she created. The new “Electric Lady” goes beyond satisfying and meeting the bar from her previous releases and ultimately pushes her vocal, lyrical and musical capabilities to unfathomable heights. If you’re wondering what the “hype” around Janelle Monae is, please understand that it is not as much about her being “different” as it is for her being mission-driven and immensely talented all in one cohesive package. This album showcases this in a very boisterous way; full of live instruments and constant genre and tempo changes, “Electric Lady” is a subliminal storyline about Janelle Monae and Cindi Mayweather (a fictional alpha-platinum 9000 android who was programmed to be the ultimate entertainer, using computer codes to implement everything that has been pleasing and successful to the music industry in the past). The first remarkable part of this album is that she took the common criticism from “The Archandroid” that many people (including J.Says herself) felt detached and dejected from the songs and as if the concepts and lyrics were purposefully going over their heads, and flipped it into a positive. “Givin Them What They Love” (featuring Prince, yes, THE Prince) pretty much sets the scene for what she’s about to do. The song itself is far from what you’d expect to hear from the duo, but has an interesting country- meets-rock feel to it. The songs that follow are probably the most commercial Monae has ever created (which is, in this context, a GOOD thing). Using simple lyrics to imply dual meanings is a skill Monae masters, especially on “Q.U.E.E.N,” featuring Erykah Badu, and the title track, featuring Solange Knowles.

Vocally, Monae is still in her prime, soaring into her chest voice more than she has before, while maintaining a virtually perfect technique and being able to switch her voice textures at the drop of a dime. She allows her range to flutter to her top head voice, down to her low alto, amidst the thumping 808s, electrifying synths, funky guitars and brass that appear throughout the suites. Her fearlessness in vocal experimentation in itself is entertaining to hear, as she emotes over the music and yet, she still manages to sometimes come off as robotic or formulaic in this approach.  She is more uninhibited, nonetheless, as she raps in 3 songs (“Q.U.E.E.N,” “Electric Lady” & “Ghetto Woman”) focusing on socially conscious themes, as the music seems to add to her overall energy. Song-wise, the album is solid; every song has a purpose and its own texture that contributes to the whole. Songs like “It’s Code” and “Victory” tug at her R&B roots, while “PrimeTime”( featuring Miguel), “We Were Rock &Roll” and “Givin Em’ What They Love” accentuates her rock & roll foundations. “Ghetto Woman” sounds like one of Stevie Wonder’s forgotten “Songs in the Key of Life” (from the second half, to be exact) tracks and tunes like “Look Into My Eyes,” “Dorothy Dandridge Eyes” (featuring Esperanza Spalding) and “Can’t Live Without Your Love” allow her smooth-like-honey voice to send the listener to ecstasy. The deluxe edition contains two remixes, one additional original song and a beautiful acoustic, slowed down cover of “I Want You Back” by The Jackson 5. The “Electric Lady” remix, featuring Big Boi and Cee-lo Green, is impeccable and “Hell You Talmbout” could have easily been on the standard version’s tracklist. Another plus is that among all of the features on the album, Ms. Monae doesn’t allow the album to feel cluttered and dependent upon these collaborations. Solange only sings background vocals (which are PHENOMENAL), Erykah Badu has space for a verse, but it comes off as spastic adlibbing and Prince’s sung part is short lived, but he plays several guitar parts throughout the song. It works because it allows the artistic nature of every featured artist to thrive and mesh with Ms. Monae’s music and play a part in the progression of the story without seeming random.

The structure of this album is also more cohesive than the “ArchAndroid” (although that was the point, as described in the liner notes of that album), and shows the social climate of Metropolis’ Wonderground Society. Her allusions to racism, the gay rights movement and sexism are subtle, yet the most effective, all the while the plot of the series is optional for the newcomers (even though the interludes will make no sense without understanding the plot to some degree). On the surface, Suite IV focuses on Janelle having a good time, entertaining the audience, celebrating her womanhood and free-thinking, while Suite V focuses on her personal life, along with her emotional battles since her previous release. One other thing to point out about Janelle albums that always goes unnoticed is that the packaging is always part of the fun. I feel bad for people who stream/illegally download Monae’s music, because copies of these booklets don’t exist via Google image search and reading them takes away any notion that a song is “too cryptic” in nature.  For one, an elusive excerpt furthering the plot of the story is always included, but in the actual credits, she states what inspired the songs. Like how “Dance Apocalyptic” is “inspired by Michael Jackson’s Glistening Jheri curl in Thriller and Bo Diddley’s Tremolo Guitar” or how “Givin Em What They Love” is “inspired by HiddenColors1&TWO and the burning big house in Django Unchained.”

Overall, the album is a must-have and will probably soon be deemed not just album of the year, but a classic. The only fault I could find in the album is that the end of both suites seemed a bit low in energy. Oh and that it’s too good. Not being biased or anything, but it’s one of those albums that you probably will listen to a couple times, then  have to STOP listening to just to thoroughly enjoy the other album releases that have come out this year. Monae is clearly in a lane of her own and is maintaining her creative integrity, while opening up enough for people to fully embrace her voice, music and message. Just that is exactly what an “Electric Lady” does: she uses her voice and experience to convey her message in the threat of adversity.