STACK Magazine April 2015 Issue 126

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I n 1960, American author Harper
Lee released her book To Kill a
Mockingbird (later adapted into a
famous film starring Gergory Peck), which
depicted a racially motivated miscarriage of
justice in the southeastern United States. In
2015, in the wake of events in Ferguson,
Missouri, Kendrick Lamar releases To Pimp a
Butterfly.
But forget agit-political flag-waving; this
album masterfully weaves the personal with
the political, and juxtaposes the richness of
black cultural history against an armoury of
contemporary sounds.
A scratch of vinyl opens Wesley’s Theory
(produced by Flying Lotus, and featuring
P-Funk legend George Clinton and bass ace
Thundercat), followed by the echoing refrain
that “every nigger is a star,” immediately
invoking Sly and the Family Stone and the
landmark There’s a Riot Goin’ On . Lamar’s
use of live jazz instrumentation throughout
much of the album (Terrace Martin on
sax, acclaimed pianist Robert Glasper,
and Thundercat on bass) not only provides
a languid fluidity and sense of adventure, it
also invokes the idea of jazz as an original,
pure, rich expression of black America in the
arts, just like hip hop. For example, on For
Free? he plays with hip hop’s lyrical cliches as
a ticked-off woman relays a shopping list of
demands before Lamar retorts with a snipey
“This di*k ain’t free”; it sounds faux gangsta,
until he dives into a devastating semi-spoken
litany of black oppression. It encapsulates
much of To Pimp a
Butterfly: vaguely dirty,
but addressing sexual
politics and consumerism
via highy skilled social
commentary. Lamar’s
rhymes sail head and
shoulders over his
contemporaries, his
with his incisive flow and uniquely
shaped vocal style flourishing in the
cavalcade of styles and ideas, where
others might struggle. The character in the
woozy These Walls reflects “I remember
you was conflicted/ mis-using your influence/
I was the same/ abusing my power/ full
of resentment/ resentment that turned
into a deep depression.” As Butterfly
progresses, the line repeats to reveal more
of the narrator’s state of mind. To hear the
culmination, you’ll have to get this album; a
defining statement for 2015. Jonathan Alley
APRIL 2015 JB HI-FI
088
visit RPM MUSIC
REVOLUTIONS
PER
MONTH
Belters, Must-Hears,
Assorted Musical Wonders
and Other Curiosities
Kendrick Lamar To Pimp a Butterfly
utshell Verdict
hird album from West
oast rapper smashes
ages of contemporary
S against personal and
olitical black history.
”What a dump.” Nobody does deadpan like
Mark Oliver “E” Everett. He’s being ironic, of
course, when he casts his jaundiced eye over
the sumptuous interior of London’s Royal Albert
Hall. It’s not so easy to tell when he describes
the evening ahead as “sweet, soft, bummer
rock,” but that’s probably as good a pigeonhole
as you’ll find for the American pop philosopher’s
unflinching outlook on life, love and loss. Much
of this show, recorded on a single date last
June, revolves around the 11th Eels album,
2014’s The Cautionary Tales of Mark Oliver
Everett – but flashbacks go back as far as 2000’s
Daisies of the Galaxy , including the “next level
bummer” of It’s a Motherf---er and the actually
rather gay I Like Birds. The gags about John
Lennon and the strictly out-of-bounds RAH pipe
organ might make more sense on the DVD
version, but from blissful overture to surprise
finale, this is one delightfully vivid bummer of an
evening. Michael Dwyer
The Eels
Live at Royal Albert Hall
It wasn’t mopey Kurt, or Eddie from the
gloomy north, but a sprightly slip of a girl
from the US bible belt who encapsulated the
brutal subtext of the grunge revolution when
she said “We like our pain and we’re selling
it.” The raw rape reportage of Me and a Gun
was a calling
card that gave
Tori Amos an
unforgettable
voice overnight,
and while she’s
been guilty of
the occasional
impenetrable
metaphor on
her subsequent
13-odd albums,
the naked
purging of this 1992 debut still brings shivers.
Silent All These Years, These Precious
Things and Crucify aren’t so much sung as
unleashed from decades of fear, to strike a
curiously resonant note with young women
(go figure) in particular. The dam burst pretty
good: no less than 18 B-sides are appended
here, including her canny take on Smells
Like Teen Spirit and five live solo piano
tracks. Also out there: her follow-up of
‘94, Under the Pink. Michael Dwyer
Tori Amos
Little Earthquakes (reissue)
The fifth album for The
Very Best – – the ongoing
collaboration between London
production wunderkinds Radioclit and Malawian
vocalist Esau Mwamwaya – is a wholly authentic
musical exercise. The atmospheric opener
Nkhondo takes us to the wilds of the African plain,
while the chant-along refrain of Hear Me might
just be anthemic. Let Go sounds like The Clash’s
Straight to Hell played by One Giant Leap, while the
acapella Bilimankhwe is simply a joy. Far more than
another ‘world music experiment’, it’s a sincere and
passionate dive into vibrant musical expression.
The Very Best
Makes a King
Pokey LaFarge plays old time music with a
real time attitude. The jazz/ragtime/bluegrass
influences in his joyous blend of American
roots is overt, but it’s no throwback. Times
past are echoed
in his songs, but
his themes are
timeless; this rich,
infectious music fuelled
by brass, harp, banjo,
riverboat harmony and La
Farge’s storytelling lilt, never
sounds less than 100% authentic.
Pokey LaFarge
Something in the Water
STACK Picks
For Free
These Walls
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