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It may be nothing revolutionary, but Calvin Harris' newest release "18 Months" is definitely in contention for the catchiest album of the year. Between the driving beats, smooth synths and background noises seemingly pulled from a late-90s video game, "18 Months" is like a cheesy rollercoaster at the state fair: It takes you for a loop and leaves you slightly ashamed at how much you enjoyed the ride.
With the already popular tracks "Feel So Close" and "We Found Love," as well as the equally ear-friendly "Bounce" and "I Need Your Love," "18 Months" will undoubtedly be the soundtrack for awkward freshmen making questionable decisions at dorm parties for years to come.
Harris assembles a range of heavy-hitting featured singers, from Ellie Goulding to Florence Welch, who provides the vocals for my favorite song from the album, "Sweet Nothing." This talented cast saves the album from becoming monotonous at times, especially towards the tail end when Harris' beats begin to blend together.
Calvin Harris may be one of the most consistent producers I've encountered thus far. Angsty techno hipsters wearing Skull Candy headphones may call him commercial, but the fact remains seemingly every track he touches puts the radio in a stranglehold. "18 Months" is the musical equivalent of eating candy for dinner, but hey, I'm a grown man and I'll get diabetes if I want.
Listen
Ever since Kendrick Lamaar's new album "good kid m.A.A.d city" came out two weeks ago, I've been hearing praise fly left and right. I've heard it called everything from a work of art to a milestone in West Coast hip-hop. In fact, when I told someone a few days back I had yet to listen to the album, he looked at me as if I had just confessed my undying love for Nickleback.
Let me start by congratulating Kendrick Lamar for a solid album offering a fresh take on the problems of inner city life. His songs speak candidly about substance abuse, crime and gang culture without the crudity displayed by other rappers, who seem to view these problems with pride rather than melancholy.
The album also showcases Lamar's versatility, with many songs fluctuating in their mood, speed and style. However, this versatility brings me to one of my primary concerns: "good kid m.A.A.d city" can at times be downright schizophrenic. Lamar careens from the laidback vibe of the love song "Poetic Justice" to the gritty, frantic style of "m.A.A.d city" to the surrealism of "Swimming Pools," in which his mind/sober consciousness has its own verse. I've grown to increasingly appreciate this unique variety of offerings as I listen to the album more, but it can still be slightly off-putting.
If you're looking for an out-of-the-box music experience, I would definitely recommend giving "good kid m.A.A.d city" a listen. Just strap in and don't blame me if the album gives you stylistic motion sickness.
Discard
Meek Mill's new album "Dreams and Nightmares" is bad. We're talking fried-clam-strips-at-the-dining-hall bad. WNBA-preseason bad. Nicholas-Cage-in-"Season of the Witch" bad.
A frank review of everything wrong with this stale, repetitive excuse for an album is actually more appropriate having just discussed Kendrick Lamar and his display of lyrical depth.
Perhaps Mr. Mill's complete lack of creativity and talent is some sort of divine punishment for the track "Amen," in which he prays to God thanking Him for clubbing, women of reprehensible moral repute and other things I doubt God would condone. In terms of musical blasphemy, this track ranks up there with Madonna wearing a crown of thorns and reenacting the crucifixion of Christ during an onstage performance in Rome.
Most of the songs from the album are shallow, bass-heavy garbage rap ("Young and Gettin' It"), and even when Meek Mill tries to slow things down, as he does in "Traumatized" and "Maybach Curtains," he is simply incapable of flowing well over the beat.
As if I needed something else to complain about, Meek Mill also recruits the help of Maybach Music Group "kingpin" Rick Ross on a number of songs, thus joining forces with one of a handful of rappers who could reasonably contest his claim to the title of worst rapper alive.
Overall, Meek Mill's "Dreams and Nightmares" gets a clear-cut discard rating. If you happen to come into contact with the album, I would advise you to wash your hands with soap and cold water.
