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SZA in New York

          The neo soul musician turned heads with her costumes and set design 

              The superstar went on her first tour in 2018 and is now going on her highly anticipated tour in 2023.

New York is the city that never sleeps, and SZA’s October 9th performance at “Barclays Center” made it even harder to doze off. On a busy Saturday evening in the center of Brooklyn, I took my place amongst thousands of ticket holders hyping themselves outside the arena to hear her unique brand of  intense, relatable passion.

The artist may have only three letters in her stage name, but a lot more than three hits in her career, along with an eye-catching appearance that has her supporters’ fall head over heels. She led off her flashy presentation with one of her biggest hits, “All the Stars,” which was on a whole different planet with the bright orange flashing lights as she sang “All the stars are closer.” From where I was sitting, far from the stage, it looked like there were hundreds of stars amongst the audience as they held up their phones. The white lights flashed in a slow cadence, achieving the task of showing a luminous appearance. While the original recording with Kendrick Lamar accompanied Black Panther in 2018, the live version was elongated with the additional electric guitar solos that extended before the Top Dawg Entertainment performer sings “This may be the night that my dreams might let me know.” 

SZA kept engaging her fans by strategically removing the prototypical lyrics; there was only the chorus sung with more instrumental solos instead of the majority of the words sung as the other vocalist was not present at the gig. She devised this plan to promote an interactive experience by including what her supporters enjoy listening to instead of losing their attention by finishing up the masterpiece. She focuses on singing the most popular choruses that fire up the audience. Although the track from five years ago could not be reinvigorated with the exact lyrics, the passion intensified as SZA repeated the chorus and closed off with “closer” and developed an illusion of living in a galaxy. 

Her noteworthy inflection set the tone for the remainder of the show. Eager fans screamed, “I love you” and mirrored the main star’s enthusiasm in each piece. She took her imagination to a land far beyond the galaxy and combined her talent and visual designs, which are two qualities that pop artists aspire to attain. 

The curiosity combined with people’s 3am wandering thoughts reached the impossible as she floated on a raft with her knees folded to one side. The display resembles her album cover of her sitting on a diving board in the middle of an ocean as she is above the water in the middle of nowhere. Parallel to her SOS cover photo released in 2022, she matched the flying object by dressing in orange, stood up, then kneeled. As she sang “Usually special, just like you”, a lighthouse was spinning around in the center of the stage that created an illusion of the singer flying from the sky. 

A couple of phrases from “Kill Bill” were performed and were easily identifiable as a dark shade of red transitions the stage color as she warbled, “I might kill my ex.” The star of the night went back to the beginning of the song, “Still a fan even though I’m still salty,” the organization of the original tune was rearranged during the live appearance as the recognizable chorus was introduced instead of the opening line listeners are accustomed to. A personal hint of a breakup was spotted as soon as the fans passionately screamed about committing the same actions and relating to the feelings of hurting from a broken relationship. 

A transition to the next song “I Hate U” occurs with the light’s color turning fiery red as she continues, “And if you wondered if I hate you I do.” Her black and white glow in the dark bodysuit contrasted with the feeling of anger emphasized during the catchy phrase. The astounding costume went against the phrase she delivered, “Treat me like corduroy” as she was not wearing what she thought she felt like she was; her power was reflected from this outfit selection. 

A lot more energy as she melodically yelled “I do” during each chorus showed her interactive energy with the audience as it got them even more ecstatic to match the level the lead presented. “Seek & Destroy” quelled the fierce and hidden emotions from past relationships as a cool shade of blue relaxed the environment. Although the heat calmed in her voice, the lyrics about her life after the breakup as she exclaims, “Now that I’ve ruined everything, keep it all for me,” the entertainer is embracing the beauty of her independent and celebrating the new freedom that her ex that she wanted to kill did not provide. 

Unlike a shooting star that is seen for seconds, SZA’s stunning image remained for the entire two hours. In fact, she became as radiant as the sun towards the end of her show. The finale felt like a transition from Earth to Heaven as the R&B soloist appeared in a white dress that made her look like an angel welcoming the crowds watching her to the new world. While the melodious words of “My man is my man” from “The Weekend” mixed well with her godlike appearance, she jumped eagerly to the beat of the instrumental music. She went from bold movements that sang about getting revenge and breakups by pacing back and forth across the stage to more joyous gestures that reflected the tone of a tranquil break from work. 

The props used during each song reflected the release’s features and mood of each song from the colors used. SZA shattered my expectations through the roof. She previously canceled a couple of performances as she was sick. I was skeptical about whether she would cancel her concert or not. Did I come all this way to New York City just to see her to find out she would bail last minute? Luckily, that did not happen. Instead, I left the concert reminiscing about her choreography and color combination of the outfits and stage props that will have my mind floating in space until I return to Ithaca to continue studying. Although her artistic theme was not outer space, but rather a beach town away from the noise, she was not from planet Earth.

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Exquisite Corpse: MONACO by Bad Bunny

In this series of lightning reviews, our staff splits into three groups of four. Pen in hand, each writer dashes off a line then passes the paper to the left for the next person to continue. Here are some of our four-sentence frolics.  

After a quick trip to the beach, Bad Bunny is back at SNL with the blazing fast track “Monaco.” As he compares himself with modern day greats, he throws around his own fame. It seems he doesn’t want to be a part of the race. Bad Bunny is living his best life as he is raising his champagne without worrying about it splashing. Will the champagne stay in place or will it run out faster than the cars he dusted in the race? – ALMEIDA, LEVY, MOINI, OSPINA

Not since the Vienna Philharmonic did SNL—it didn’t—have so many men untroubled by women been the comedy show’s musical act. Bad Bunny enraptured the audience with a showy performance of his hit song, Monaco. Surrounded by masked men in suits raising their glasses, presumably to Bad Bunny’s success, the entire performance engages the audience in an almost sadistic way: We are all out of Bad Bunny’s tax bracket and he’d like to remind us of it. It’s not just the Monaco Grand Prix that drives his layered beard and libido, but also the prospect of a tax haven with great beaches and maximum exposure. –CHIEDU, LEE, YEARSLEY

After his performance on SNL, Bad Bunny is the talk of the town (Monaco) – and he knows it. With the utmost swagger, he melodically raps in Spanish over a violin infused trap beat that gives audiences no choice but to bump their heads along. He demands attention with minimal movement, leaning back on the couch as he describes his lavish life. A lesser artist would look foolish trying to sell themself with that much class and sex-appeal, but this global popstar sells it and more: he belongs in the fastlane. –GOLDBERG, MANOS, NELSON, THAREJA

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Cornell’s New Director of Orchestras Sets the Tone in Debut Concert

Aspen Conducting Fellow Gabriela Gómez Estévez delivers a dynamic display of diverse music in the Orchestra’s first concert of the season

The Cornell Symphony Orchestra at Bailey Hall (2022). Credit: Cornell Orchestras

THAREJA – Oct. 2, 2023.

On an overcast Saturday afternoon, in the midst of the early-turning fall foliage, the Cornell Orchestras present their first concert of the season. What has now become the Chamber and Symphonic Orchestras, was founded more than 150 years ago as a single organization, The historic University Orchestra. Recent years have seen renowned conductors take the magnificent stage of Bailey Hall, conducting world premieres and collaborating with world-class musicians such as Wynton Marsalis and Roberto Sierra.

 

This particular afternoon the Orchestras turned a new leaf, as it is the first concert of Dr. Gabriela Gómez Estévez, conducting the orchestras in her new role as Director of Orchestras. A fervent champion of new music and a diverse repertoire, today promises to be no different. The Dominican conductor and founder of Operability, an annual opera festival that features new and diverse works for voice and chamber ensemble, she was awarded the James Conlon Conductor Prize while at the prestigious Aspen Music Festival and School. She was a former conducting fellow there and will return in 2024.

 

The seats of Bailey Hall are filled with Ithaca residents, from students to professors (acclaimed organist and journalist David Yearsley was spotted by a few discerning undergraduates). The lights dim, the Chamber Orchestra tune their instruments and Maestro Estévez begins the first piece of the evening. Tonight’s repertoire is exceedingly diverse, containing pieces of startling melancholy juxtaposed with energizing ones, in an effort that firmly situated Gómez’s place at the helm. 

 

Jessie Montgomery’s “Starburst,” a one-movement work for strings draws on the imagination of the astronomical explosion of stars, a “rapid formation of large numbers of new stars in a galaxy at a rate high enough to alter the structure of the galaxy significantly.” The opening bars of “Starburst” definitely encapsulate that description well, starting with tension-rich marcato chords, filled with gently electric string melodies, which are juxtaposed with accented chords in a way that contribute to the rapid pace of the piece. The Chamber Orchestra was able to execute the dynamics of the piece remarkably, going from large explosive fortissimo moments to calmer gentler (but fleeting) melodies swiftly. Their control gave the piece a large sense of space in which a complex antiphony was created. The final bars see the violins screech into oblivion, after a spirited performance. 

 

Reassured by a smiling-and-nodding conductor, the orchestra turns to their second piece of the evening. Leos Janacek’s Suite for Strings composed very early on in his life, reflected his recently formed friendship with Dvořák, seemingly influenced by his towering Czech contemporary to write an extensive instrumental piece of his own. Janacek’s themes are constructed gently and thoughtfully, inspired by folk themes that emulate his Moravian heritage. Some moments shone brighter than others in this wonderful rendition, such as the melancholic crooning of the celli in the 5th movement, as well as the bucolic regality of the Andante con moto, tempered by the higher strings.

 

Maestro Gómez steers the Symphonic Orchestra in a new direction following a brief intermission. Dvořák’s influences are pervasive in this concert, his 8th symphony is a celebration of his Bohemian heritage, and in my eyes, was where the orchestra’s ability was on full display. Composed in four movements, a plethora of themes is developed in the nearly-40 minute symphony. Bohemian themes are preserved in the grain of the piece, but are given a dramatic quality reminiscent of Beethoven. The orchestra brought out the bubbly, bustling, bursting and brash character of the piece that Dvorak intended of it. Of the piece, he is cited as saying that this would be “different from the other symphonies, with individual thoughts worked out in a new way.” It becomes important, then, to bring out each of these nestled individual thoughts into the cohesive form of the symphony, and within each of its movements. 

 

Dvorak wrote the symphony at his countryside summer residence during the majestic summer months in the heart of Bohemia. One can only imagine the lush rolling meadows, forests coated in blankets of mystery, whispering alpine brooks which roused Dvorak, prompting him to finish this symphony in a matter of months. The orchestra delightfully doled out glimpses into this world, evocative of Beethoven’s 7th (also composed in Bohemia), with kindred dramatic poise and sense of spontaneity. The orchestra masterfully brought the playfulness of this piece to the forefront, coating the crowd with visions of warm sunlight-laden fields on an otherwise gloomy day. Similar to the Chamber Orchestra, each piece pushes the Orchestra to be malleable and dexterous; The tempo, dynamics and expressiveness of each piece changing rapidly, presenting the orchestra as an adaptable body of talent, one that can rise to the occasion, can experiment, and continue to push the boundaries of their own capabilities. 

 

Perhaps that’s why Goméz chose this set: each piece is an experimentation in some way, a test to see how deep the water is, and we patiently hold our breath and watch, as the orchestras swim to the seabed; Dvorak’s symphony challenged the form itself, with seemingly disjoined themes coalescing without prior notice, or in Moncayo’s “Huapango”, which preserves elements of folkloric music entrenched in the shores and souls of Veracruz. The orchestra navigates these waters adeptly, and with a zeal and excitement that promise to be a good omen for times to come.

 

Despite an undoubtedly exhausting 2-hour concert, the unyielding energy of the orchestra is what stood out to me through the performance. After a few years of changing directors, Goméz establishes herself as commander-in-chief in her debut, beckoning concert-goers to shed the old, like trees in October and follow her into a gripping new chapter of the Cornell Orchestra’s legacy. As leaves turn and seasons change, Goméz and the orchestra promise a musical journey that mirrors the evolving tapestry of fall — rich, vibrant, and unforgettably poignant.

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Courtney Barnett Softens Her Sound

The indie-rock icon dials it back for two transfixing and memorable sets.

Barnett’s accompanied by Warpaint’s Stella Mozgawa for her straight runthrough of End of the Day

As I eagerly walked into National Sawdust, the first thing that struck me about the Brooklyn venue was how small the space was. Droning tones mixed with bird calls echoed in the intimate, chic space as audience members trickled in. 

Only a few hundred fans were able to score tickets. This choice of location had nothing to do with the Australian indie-songwriter’s ability to sell out a stadium. Last summer, thousands of devotees, myself included, flocked to a small town outside Syracuse called Lafayette to see her perform. There’s no doubt she could have reached similar numbers in New York City. It was a conscious and admirable choice to handpick venues such as the rustic Vermont church she played on the previous night of her tour, prioritizing audience experience over profit. Her first set of the night featured the experimental instrumentals off her latest album, End of the Day, performed with collaborator Stella Mozgawa. These songs are best listened to in a personal setting.

I lined up at the back of the forming crowd as the opener, Anjimile, strolled on stage. They’ve played in Ithaca before, headlining a concert put on by Cornell’s own Fanclub Collective back in 2019. But this setting suited him far better than a co-op basement. A soft pink light illuminated the white wall behind them as they greeted the audience with a gentle voice. He appeared nervous while speaking to the crowd but quickly found their footing as soon as they started to sing. Their songs were full of smooth drawn-out notes that he delivered eyes closed, deep in emotional concentration. Alone on the stage with just a guitar to support them, Anjimile’s ethereal voice poured out odes to family and anthems for the Black and trans communities he represents. One standout was “1978,” a heavenly melody dedicated to their grandmother, whom they had never had the chance to meet. Despite their physical paths not crossing, Anjimile sang of the care he felt from her and the unbreakable bond their spirits shared, crooning, “bold and bright, I could fall asleep in your love.” 

After their set, the lovely sentiment of Anjimile’s lyrics stuck with me as Courtney Barnett and Stella Mozgawa came out, giving the audience a brief wave before promptly heading to their stations. Barnett took a seat with her guitar and Mozgawa positioned herself behind her table of synths and controls. The two then looked at one another, clearly able to communicate without words, and dove into their performance. Or rather, they eased in steadily, Mozgawa contributing a light shimmering chord who’s dynamic slowly increased with painstaking precision, and Barnett adding rippling hints of guitar. Projected on the geometric shapes that made up the wall behind them was a serene visual accompaniment depicting Barnett meandering through the mountainside in a royal blue rain jacket. 

As I peered around the heads in front of me, I saw to my surprise that on some tracks Barnett was playing her guitar by tapping a pencil against the strings. This produced a consistently clean chord and allowed more attention to be devoted to the timing and volume of each harmony. The flowing sounds and seemingly serendipitous fusions of the synth and the six string were played with intense care, generating a shared reflective atmosphere. The air around me felt light and full of energy. I lost myself in thought as my mind pursued ever-trailing thoughts, echoing the meandering guitar chords traversing the strange universe of Mozgawa’s synth. 

I then found myself pulled back to reality, transfixed as Barnett changed tactics yet again, opting to bow her instrument. The sinuous sounds rocked my body back and forth while Mozgawa modulated her controls meticulously. I watched on the projector as Barnett summited a peak and stood facing over a ledge. Wind blew back the curls of her wolf-cut and I almost felt like I could feel the breeze. The set wound to a close as the pair finished “Eternity Repeat,” the final song on End of the Day. 

After the applause died down the crowd was largely silent, processing any remaining thoughts or feelings stirred up by the performance. I was still in a haze when Courtney Barnett walked back on stage, this time alone, addressing the audience for the first time that night with a warm hello and praise for Anjimile and Stella Mozgawa. She opened her second set with “Rae Street,” the first song off of her feel-good 2021 album, Things Take Time, Take Time. Barnett approached the stripped back version of the tune in an even more speak-sing manner than usual. It sounded almost like a spoken-word poem given over the mellow strum of her guitar. 

The famously shy musician bantered with the audience in between numbers, a possible side effect of the more intimate setting. Barnett encouraged the audience to sing along with her, “especially on the high notes,” she joked. The crowd complied, even on her wordy tongue twister of a tune, “Avant Gardener,” her breakout single which tells the tale of a cultivation-induced asthma attack. The audience reverberated the words back at her, and Barnett fed off of their energy.

The set peaked with “Sunday Roast,” a mellow, heartwarming piece about supporting and showing up for the ones you love. Barnett chose to dedicate it to everyone in the audience who was having a hard week. Though the lyrics are quite simple, they sound profound coming from their kind and earnest vocalist. She serenaded the crowd, “keep on keeping on, you know you’re not alone / And I know all your stories but I’ll listen to them again.” The crowd echoed back to Barnett, “you’re not alone,” as the backup vocals do on the recorded version of the track, causing her to smile charmingly. She felt the love that we were sending back to her.



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Nicki Minaj’s Show-Stopping VMAs Takeover

Nicki Minaj premieres two songs from her upcoming album, Pink Friday 2.

Nicki Minaj Performs 'Pink Friday 2' Exclusive at 2023 MTV VMAs – Billboard

Minaj performs at the 2023 VMAs.

Pink is undoubtedly the color of 2023. If anyone heard this memo, it was Nicki Minaj. “Heard” might not be the right word; “dictated” is more fitting. Starting with her participation in the Barbie album and coming to a head with her upcoming album, Pink Friday 2, Minaj has been hyper-feminizing rap’s latest music since July, leaving a pink-colored world in her wake. This aesthetic is certainly not new for the rapper. Occupying a genre dominated by men, Minaj has always capitalized on her identity as a woman. She’s subverted audience’s expectations of stereotypical femininity through her identity as an unrelentingly powerful and confident rapper, while simultaneously bringing as much attention as possible to her femininity through her overtly-sexual music videos, lyrics, and outfits. Hyper-femininity is even baked into her fans, which the artist affectionately dubbed “Barbz.” Pink is inseparable from Minaj’s cultural image – both visually and representationally.

Her recent performance at the 2023 MTV Video Music Awards was certainly no exception. As the MC and a performer, no better choice could’ve been made than to include Ms. Minaj. Her performance opens with “Last Time That I Saw You,” the lead single of Pink Friday 2. Standing on a triangular platform and engulfed by pink lights and smoke, Minaj is welcomed to the stage by a sea of cheering fans. The opening notes silence the audience as they expectantly await the motionless artist to sing. Sing – not rap. Most people would describe her as a rapper first, singer second, but no attendee of this performance would. Her voice is almost unrecognizable in this form. But the pink sparkly eye shadow, diamond-studded microphone, and knee-length hair show the viewers that it is unmistakably the Harajuku Barbie.

Unlike her typical rough, expressive, perpetually-changing-accented rapping voice, her singing is soft, smooth, and quiet. I would believe anyone who tells me that she’s lip-syncing to  someone else’s song. Her voice is not alone in being unidentifiable. Her lyrics are absent of her iconic wordplay and memorable humor. Instead, she sings about feelings of regret following a breakup. However, these emotional but generally unmemorable lyrics could’ve been written by any number of artists.

Following the first iteration of the chorus, Nicki Minaj briefly raps, yet this too is unlike her typical music. Each line is a generic sentiment revolving around missing an ex, lines terminating in forced, unnatural rhymes. Her voice lacks the typical strength and expressiveness typically found in her raps. This results in a decent song, but one that doesn’t highlight Nicki Minaj’s strengths. The same cannot be said of the second half of her performance.

The Queen of Rap reminds audiences of her title’s origin in the following song. Dropping her large black dress, Minaj reveals a bedazzled two-piece outfit. “MTV,” she announces, “It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t give y’all a Pink Friday 2 exclusive.” The camera pans to the celebrity audience, where an unenthused Taylor Swift, no stranger to Twitter feuds with the rapper, claps. An animated Ice Spice dances behind the country-turned-pop singer. The co-rapper of Minaj’s “Princess Diana” and “Barbie World” turns to excitedly chatter to her neighbors, all while beaming with excitement.

Channeling her identity as Red Ruby da Sleaze, Nicki Minaj removes her diamond microphone from the stand, allowing her to freely strut across the now-red stage. The pop-ballad singer who was just occupying the stage is gone – Barbie is back. The backing track contains a much more conservative version of the hook; in her familiar style, with eyes wide and over-the-top facial expressions, she aggressively half-yells, half-raps over it. Assigning herself as the backing rapper and the primary rapper highlights the expressiveness of her live performance style. 

As the opening hook ends, the camera zooms out for a brief period of time. Minaj is surrounded by smaller platforms occupied by backup dancers, a drummer, and keyboardist. Why the dancers are there is a mystery; they sway back and forth while waving their arms, dancing as though they’re teenagers at a concert rather than professionals, while Nicki Minaj’s energetic performance and dancing consumes all of the audience’s attention. Even more of a mystery is the drummer’s presence. While he hits a cymbal here or there (a suspicious choice, as there’s no acoustic music in the performance), he mainly bops his head and arms up and down, occupying the role of a glorified dancer. As there’s no keyboard in the song, the keyboardist’s presence is equally perplexing. At least the drummer can dance. The keyboardist simply stands there, watching Minaj. But who wouldn’t spend the whole time watching her if they were on her stage?

“When Barbie touch down, the baddest of bitches is out,” Minaj raps, referencing the all-encompassing theme of her career. She raps about the world’s undervaluation of her contribution to the genre, but no one would think this upon hearing the audience’s screams. As the song comes to an end, she shouts, “Barbz, I love you!” The rapper sheepishly smiles and strokes her hair as the audience screams their love. She gingerly picks her dress up from off the ground, hoists it over her shoulder, and begins her descent from the stage. It’s clear that Nicki Minaj’s legacy, much like the color pink itself, remains vibrant and indomitable.



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Putting a Shift in: Sam Smith Joins Long List of Iconic Tiny Desk Performances

NPR’s Tiny Desk Welcomes Sam Smith and their crew. 

Smith performs a Tiny Desk concert Friday, Aug. 4, 2023, at NPR’s headquarters in Washington, D.C.

The Tiny Desk Concert Series is a concept developed by NPR where the employees get to pick an artist to perform live within their office space. They have hosted a wide array of musical artists: from current pop-icon Post Malone to the insanely talented cast of The Lion King on Broadway. These performances are recorded and then put on YouTube, opening these wildly intimate and bare-boned performances for a virtual audience. When this video came up on my YouTube Recommended, I clicked on it almost immediately, as I was an avid fan of Smith when I was younger. I had the joy of watching them live in Montreal when they released their pop/soul album, The Thrill of It All, and was so excited to see what they would do in this type of setting, as there is no place to hide within these Tiny Desk performances. Smith’s music is almost made for this type of setting  

The video launches right into the performance with the unmistakable opening piano chords to Smith’s 2014 hit “Stay With Me.” Smith is front and center with a black choir at his back, all dressed in matching black sweatsuits. The sound they produce is purely angelic, as Smith’s very controlled, but almost nasally voice contrasts well with the smooth and full sound of their backup singers. As the camera angles zoom in to focus more on Smith, you can see their backup singers mouthing along to the solo parts of the song, making it clear that everyone in that room genuinely enjoys the music they are producing. This makes the overall performance that much more emotional and heartfelt. 

“This is quite mad… I’ve been singing on stage for too long, so this is crazy,” they chuckle as they sip from their water bottle. It is apparent that the intimate setting of the Tiny Desk is something that they appreciate but are a little intimidated by, compared to the huge venues that they have been so used to playing. “This next song… We rehearsed it the other day and this is 100% my favorite version of this song we’ve ever done so I hope you like this. Enjoy, move, get into it,” they conclude with a shimmy as the audience chuckles. Smith has a way of putting those around them at ease, and it is so evident by the way that their choir looks at them, with such adoration and admiration, and the way that the live audience responds to them. The group launches into an acapella opening, accompanied by snaps, of Smith’s popular pop single “How Do You Sleep?” Pianist and effects coordinator Ruth O’Mahoney jumps in with superb tone and timing, along with the subtle strums of guitarist Ben Totten. When this song first came out in 2019, I was not a fan. In fact, I am still not a fan of the recorded track, as it is very much a generic, over-auto-tuned pop song, but this live and acoustic version of the song stunned me. The chorus featured the choir in full effect, backing Smith up with interweaving harmonies that fill the room with a rich sound and energy. It had the opposite feel from the recorded track, given that it was a live, acoustic performance. It let the song speak for itself, and it shocked me to realize that I did actually enjoy the song, especially when it was performed in such a way. All I can say is that this version of “How Do You Sleep?” needs to be released as soon as possible on every streaming platform because I want to listen to it on repeat. 

The next song that they performed was “Lay Me Down,” another early career Sam Smith classic. Pianist O’Mahoney and Smith are a well-oiled machine when it comes to the reading of each other in the pacing of this slow opening, as it is just the two of them to start. After the first chorus, LaDonna Harley-Peters joins Smith on the main mic for the next verse, where they put their arm around her. It is a truly touching scene, and it is clear that they have a very special bond. Her voice is such a contrast to Smith’s, with a very full, steadfast, smooth, and versatile range. In the second chorus, they turn to look into each other’s eyes as if they are signing to one another, as Harley-Peters takes the higher harmony to Smith’s melody. Their voices combine to soar over the piano chords, crescendoing beautifully as they get to the bridge of the song. This is where the rest of the choir joins in to create a powerful and almost chilling effect as O’Mahoney hammers away at the keys. This all culminates at the end of the song where it is just Smith and Harley-Peters once again, cooing the heartfelt lyrics: “Can I lay by your side?/ Next to you,/ You.” They hug, and you can feel the love radiating from the screen. This number extracted such an emotional catharsis from me, so much so that a couple of tears were shed. “Lay Me Down” is such a painfully vulnerable song, one that has been one of my favorites of Smith’s ever since I was a young girl, and to not only hear but to see this performance in such a stripped-down setting only emphasized the talent that Smith possesses. It was truly captivating. 

“Ok, let’s get saucy,” Smith says mischievously, as the overall vibe of the show takes a turn. They conclude their concert with a performance of their new controversial hit single, “Unholy.” It begins with acapella clapping from the choir paired with fun vocalizations that loosen up the crowd. The piano enters with heavily low and staccato chords, thumping along to the rhythm. While the performance of this song did not lack in fun energy, this was my least favorite part of the concert. This may be due to the fact that I do not like this song and was hoping that they would play more from The Thrill of It All, but I also feel that it was an interesting song choice to close out the concert as a whole. I think that “Unholy’ would be a great opening song to set the tone and get the audience at ease, and that it would have been more impactful to end with a song that is more emotionally hard-hitting and showcases Smith’s singing and songwriting talent.

This video was one of my favorites released from NPR in their Tiny Desk Concert Series, and it only left me wanting to hear more from Sam Smith and their incredibly talented group. Twenty minutes was too short, but they did amazing with the time that they had and I sing enough praises for them.  

 

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“From Brooklyn’s Embrace to Musical Revelation: Black Country, New Road’s Unforgettable Night”

While niche, the crowd made Black Country, New Road the biggest band to take the stage that date.

Being nestled in a crowd of geeks, buffs, maniacs, fanatics, and all manners of musical connoisseurs, Black Country, New Road has always held a mirror up to its audience, compelling them to reflect upon the shared journey: “Look at what we did together, BCNR/Friends forever” as the band sung. Without friendship, the band themselves wouldn’t be performing. Hell. I wouldn’t have been able to see the concert without the help of friends. Even if you entered alone, you came out with friendships that will last a lifetime. 

 This British collective, hailing from London and unified in 2018, has been nothing short of a disruptor in the realm of traditional music. Their hallmark lies in the unorthodox sound, a tapestry woven with an eclectic array of instruments, including guitar, saxophone, violin, drums, and bass, creating an intricate sonic landscape.

The turning point arrived with their debut album, For The First Time, unleashed upon the world in early 2021, a masterpiece that garnered accolades from both critics and fervent fans, firmly cementing their status as pioneers in the post-punk genre. Even to this extent, they fail to meet this boundary of genre. The soundstage is expressive, the instruments are layered, and all of their voices have a texture that cannot be defined.  Lyrics of introspection and philosophical depth invite listeners to embark on a stroll of self-discovery, exploring themes of identity, alienation, and the human experience. Following the release, they delivered their highly acclaimed studio album Ants From Up There, propelling them further than ever before, hands close to the mainstream. It was a 10 track exploration of their relationships, friendships, and hardships of life that continued their inventive instrumentation and lyrical genius. Each track felt like a meticulously crafted course in a gastronomic journey aboard a Concorde jet. Yet, just as the band seemed destined for ever-greater heights, a sudden twist of fate struck. Four days before the release of Ants From Up There, lead singer Issac Wood made the onerous choice to pull his hand away, leaving Black Country, New Road in a state of emergency. The aftermath of this upheaval culminated in the heartfelt “Live at Bush Hall,” an ode not only to Issac but to all who have faced adversity, a reminder that healing is possible through the strength of connection and love.

The warmth of their music found its manifestation in an old Brooklyn warehouse known as the Knockdown Center on the 21st of September , a venue that enveloped attendees like a mother’s embrace on a winter day or a perfectly crafted latte resting on the counter. It was a concert experience that drove us to forget the pain of standing, a rarity in most concert settings, as we revealed in the welcoming atmosphere. The audience was a mosaic of eager friends saving spots, casual drinkers sauntering from the bar, and those who gazed intently toward the stage, seeking a signal to illuminate their souls.

Opening the night was a New York-based band named Daneshevskaya, a gentle introduction that flowed through the audience like the onset of autumn. Anna, their lead singer, transported us with her vocals, akin to a leaf in a gentle breeze swaying back and forth. The band was the vista, an orchestra of leaves, sunlight, trees, and fruit, expertly complementing Anna’s ethereal presence. Each song stood as a unique composition, ranging from symphonic grandeur to soulful ballads, a testament to their boundless potential.

The transition to Black Country, New Road was nothing short of a shift in the atmosphere. “Up Song,” initiated by Lewis Evans on the saxophone, cast a hypnotic spell, soon joined by May Kershaw’s enchanting timbre. The audience, a thunderous chorus, threatened to drown out the stage, the fervor palpable as every soul in the room sang in unison. May Kershaw, rallying the crowd, declared us all “friends forever,” a chant echoing through the venue, pole to pole. Their set was an unyielding blaze of energy, “The Boy” featuring Charlie Wayne on drums, Georgia Ellery on lead vocals, and Tyler Hyde on bass, a brilliant sun radiating, with waves  crashing upon a beach and the pitch-perfect notes of a finely tuned flute. Every band member had their moment in the spotlight, a testament to the camaraderie that emanated from the stage to the enraptured crowd. They performed “Live at Bush Hall” in its entirety, punctuating the journey with two additional songs. The second, a tantalizing revelation titled “Frolicking,” containing Luke Mark’s guitar strumming like an upright bass, and May Kershaw’s return with her enchanting vocals. It was a tantalizing glimpse of what the future might hold, a song deserving of an audience far beyond this memorable night. 

Emerging from the dimly lit venue, suffused with the lingering scent of cigarettes and sweat. The indelible mark left by Black Country, New Road on the audience lingers in our collective consciousness. In that moment, amidst the shared musical catharsis, strangers became friends, and the bond forged within the maelstrom of their performance felt like an enduring kinship. As we dispersed into the night, there was a tangible sense of anticipation, a shared longing for the next reunion. We weren’t merely concertgoers; we were a community, a testament to the band’s ability to create an atmosphere of togetherness. In the spirit of a Black Country, New Road song, the experience was far from over; it was an ongoing storybook, a soundtrack to our lives, and a reminder that the echoes of their music would reverberate through our hearts for years to come.

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Heard on Halloween

Shine a light in the caverns of the creepiest month with supernatural jams to bewitch you into the spirit of the season.

MGMT, “When You Die”

The mustard yellow cover of MGMT’s fourth studio album, Little Dark Age, depicts a pointillist face with empty eye sockets. A fleeting, haunting image to hold in eerie harmony with the grim themes and lyrics prominent in “When You Die,” the album’s lead single released October 2017. Lead singer Andrew VanWyngarden refrains in a manic calm of vocal distortion: “I’m gonna eat your heart out.” The tune’s disturbingly dancey shimmer melds acoustic guitar and dizzying keyboards with a circling background track of deranged giggles. “Don’t you have somewhere to be at 7:30,” VanWyngarden glares a rhetorical question. A gunshot sounds at the end of the song; the artist of the album cover, titled Nénuphars/Paix Christi, Aloïse Clobaz was institutionalized in 1918 for schizophrenia. —AIDAN GOLDBERG

Eminem and Rihanna, “The Monster”

Rihanna develops a relationship with the scary beast lurking nearby as she sings “I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed.” Listeners assume from this opening of the song that the guest singer is like Boo who befriends Mike Wazowski and Sullivan hiding in her home. It does not mean that there is an actual creature that people feared when they were little kids as soon as they turned off the lights to go to sleep. The monster refers to the internal conflicts a person faces among themselves. Rihanna’s melodic voice makes this chorus memorable. Eminem’s rapping, “I wanted fame, but not the cover of Newsweek” complements his duet partner befriending the scary characters under her bed by rapping about him seeking fame and glory but not being able to handle the fame. There are no actual villains present, but the person struggling with their own ego and selves are their own demons, which makes it an ideal and free Halloween costume that can be worn to celebrate the holiday. –SALOMEE LEVY

Wednesday, “What’s so Funny”

In a shoegaze tune by the youthful Ashville band Wednesday, lead singer Karly Hartzman lays it bare. Somber and simple. Scary and accurate. Karly sings in an airy way, almost enchanting the listener to approach the doorway of her house. On a day of wearing costumes, she pleads. Take off the mask, drop the candy. Who are you under the costume? Karly leads to the answer, taking off her own mask. In her words “and it wasn’t pretty.” With a light strum of the acoustic guitar and eventual snap of the drum, Karly hopes that we may do the same. In a day of terror, maybe the biggest one is ourselves. — JACOBO OSPINA

Bruno Coulais, “Dreaming”

As households flock to Party City’s candy and costume aisles in preparation for Halloween, only one item is found on my holiday to-do list: rewatch “Coraline.” The movie never fails to fling me full-force into the holiday. Much of this can be attributed to Bruno Coulais’ eerie, unnerving, yet enchantingly childlike soundtrack. (Of course, that’s not to say the button-eyed claymation monster attempting to kill the protagonist doesn’t contribute to this effect.) The film’s main theme, “Dreaming,” acts like a sonic gateway, introducing audiences to the innocent yet unnerving nature of the film. Its ethereally beautiful melody reflects the sense of wonderment of the film – but not without a heavy dollop of eeriness. The nonsensical syllables overlaying the strings and chimes further cast a mysterious spell over the listeners. Once again, I’m inspired to purchase a yellow rain jacket for my Halloween costume. Perhaps I’ll stumble across a tunnel to another dimension – but I’ll need to find a black cat first. —DELIA FERRY

 DJ Assault, “Return of the Terror Tec”

Halloween lovers all over are preparing for another year of flaunting gorey garments, adorning themselves with fake (or maybe real?) blood, and uncovering harrowing secrets hidden in crevices of the deep past. Halloween fanatic or not, the holiday instills fear in all of our hearts.  Have you ever wondered what lies hidden in the shadows? Your question may be answered with ‘Return of the Terror Tec,’ a ghettotech electronic track by Detroit native, DJ Assault. With punchy synth-like beats blended with an eerie yet euphonious melody, the song embodies fear at its very core. The repetitive lyrics are a tell-tale of this daunting day: There’s no turning back now… and through it, we get to reimagine what the holiday Halloween really symbolizes. Maybe it’s not just a day to cower in fear in our rooms, but a time to dance, move, and embrace the freaky fear-filled spirits that live inside of us all.  —AMARA CHIEDU 

Sting, “In Darkness Let Me Dwell”

Sting’s 2006 collaboration with brazen Bosnian lutenist Edin Karamazov, Songs from the Labyrinth, wanders through the pleasant groves and among the tilted graves of the musical landscape painted by John Dowland, a popstar of the Elizabeth Age still admired by rockers and renaissance fans in our time. There is much sensual joy in these precincts, but despair, too, nowhere more harrowing than in the earthen melancholy of “In Darkness Let Me Dwell.” One can feel the clammy fingers on the heart in the sharp dissonances plucked from the lute’s strings; Sting’s voice has the lichened texture of a weathered granite tombstone. “Pale ghosts and frightful shades shall my acquaintance be,” he mourns at the haunted close, the ghosts singing from the shadows. —DAVID YEARSLEY

Dolly Spartans, “I Hear the Dead”  

Dolly Spartans’ bass line grips your attention with bony fingers akin to New Order’s “Age of Consent” and persists throughout the song. The icy guitar squeezes itself into the song until it reaches its apex with the thundering chorus, “I heard the dead talk to me.” The drums come to the front burner alongside continuing repetitive tormented vocals and replace the steady bass. Dolly Spartans’ phantasmal chants make you daydream about having a haunting of your own this October.—DANIELLA GARCIA-LOOS ALMEIDA 

Rockwell, “Somebody’s Watching Me”

The cold silence of an autumn night in Ithaca is, in itself, a little creepy. Don’t just take my word for it – stroll through central campus in the dark and watch as your strides quicken. As abandoned as it can feel sometimes, it never feels quite as alone as you’d like it. Rockwell’s single featuring brothers Micheal and Jermaine Jackson, runs wild with this rampant paranoia – in a strangely upbeat way. A droning bass line, interjections from an electric organ and leaping, nearly-screaming vocals have become haunted house classics. It’s all in the name for this one. And in this age, where surveillance is deftly done to (till) death, a little chirpiness can be a welcome guest. —ARYAMAN THAREJA 

Echo & The Bunnymen, “Nocturnal Me”

Nothing screams sinister like sprightly strings in a minor key. Echo & The Bunnymen provoke premonitions of doom out of the gate on this eerie track. The orchestral waves of suspense support the yearning vocals whose oscillating modulations never allow the listener to settle. The pattering percussion remains an elusive and undying generator of urgency.  Despite its lyrics about burning and fire, “Nocturnal Me” is bound to make you shiver as if this year’s ever impending Ithaca winter is already upon us. —LINDSEY MANOS

Bladee, “Who Goes There”

Ah Halloween, prime time for trick-or-treating, warm apple cider donuts, and sharing a laugh with friends, right? Not for Bladee. The enigmatic Swedish rapper’s vision of Halloween is that of frigid and desperate isolation. “Who Goes There,” the opening track to Bladee’s 2016 studio debut album Eversince, asserts this clearly with its desolate first lines: “Who goes there? It’s the ghost of October / Summer’s over, now I’m going nowhere.” Backed by crisply reverberating bells, Bladee’s warbled and distant singing comes across as an imposing cry for help. If you’re looking for a song to echo the barren undertones of Halloween, Bladee has you covered.  —OMEED MOINI

Billie Eilish, “bury a friend”

The haunting bass and eerie melody of global pop sensation, Billie Eilish’s 2019 hit “bury a friend” brings forth an atmosphere of dark mystery teetering on the edge of nightmarish wickedness. The chilling question of “When we all fall asleep, where do we go?” not only is a callback to the title of the album, but also sets up the idea of sinister otherworldly forces that appear in the nighttime. On top of the eerie lyrics, the whispering vocals that echo Eilish and the menacing screeches in the background reminds us that we are never truly alone, especially in the darkness. —SARAHELIZABETH LEE

The Doors, “People Are Strange”

In an eerie anthem for all outcasts, The Doors showcase masterful artistry in lyricism and musicality, leaving the listener feeling somewhat unsettled after hearing their song “People Are Strange.” The lyrics of the chorus, “When you’re strange/Faces come out of the rain/When you’re strange/No one remembers your name,” gives the impression of an individual slowly descending into madness, backed by the classically spooky sound of the organ. At the beginning of the song, it is only frontman Jim Morrison singing, but by the end a chorus of masculine voices join him to sing the haunting lyrics, providing a chilling effect that the disturbing feelings depicted by the lyrics are not felt by a single person, but by the masses…  –TANUM NELSON

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Porchfest: The Immortal Peaches

             The longtime duo brought liveliness to an upstate university town this past weekend.

The lead playing guitar during one of her greatest hits.

Ithaca’s several trees and clapboard houses replace the city lights of the majestic casinos and resorts. The sudden weather drop, the unexpected rain, and the wind had me shivering as I sprinted up the hill that rises from Fall Creek to Cornell University. I was trapped inside all day, struck with the reality of living in frigid weather in the next few months. But the sounds of the guitar and drums convinced me to get out of my apartment and take a quick walk to see what was going on. After all, hearing the music from my window brightened my mood at home. I wondered if my mood would improve by getting closer to the source of music that was replacing the sun. As I walked past several houses, the distinct sound of a flute solo guided me. As I inched closer to where the flute was coming from, my hands started tapping to the rhythm along my side, feeling more awake than when my alarm clock rang. The cure to this gloomy weather was found on the steps of 408 E Marshall St: The Immortal Peaches. There were not actual peaches that cured the gloomy weather, but instead the sounds of a guitar, flute, and keyboard that cured.The gray skies suddenly were nonexistent, it was no longer chilly as I stood in front of their steps and listened to them play. 

There stood the duo from the band named “Carly and Paul” on the porch of a red and beige house. Clad in a blue dress, black tights and a striking black and gold blazer, the singer had an undeniable chemistry with her band-mate and longtime friend, Paul. Carly had long grayish blonde hair; she wore a blue dress with black tights and a black and gold blazer. After Carly took a break from her flute solo, she and Paul had undeniable chemistry on the porch as they talked about their early career days 18 years ago at the Farmer’s Market. Paul, wearing his MIT light gray hoodie, only showed admiration during the brief intermission as Carly drank her water, “Carly is so charming, I go along with her.” It was apparent that these words were not scripted and nor rehearsed prior to their gig. The audience showered them with “Aw” as it is undeniable that the pair worked well together and nurtured their growth for nearly two decades. After a moment of interacting with the observers by exchanging a few encouraging words, Carly realized she had a few more minutes to perform and agreed to cue Paul to play “Milk and Honey.” Paul opened the tune by playing the keyboard in a rhythmic pattern that consisted primarily of eighth notes. He accompanied the shell shaped guitar that Carly was playing along with her voice throughout the performance. Carly started singing, “You and me now living free” and melismatically extends the “e” in “free” for a couple of seconds. She made the lyrics memorable and harmonized with her guitar and Paul’s keyboard. Her lyrics “Now ain’t the money, about the milk and honey,” also provided a fast-paced rhythm to keep up with. The lyrics were relatable as Carly explained how the song is supposed to balance work and life; we cannot toil every single hour while we are alive. Her words served me as a reminder to enjoy each moment, with her giddy up guitar and wispy keyboard from Paul evoking a giddy up and roaring melody of a Western movie soundtrack with the sound of fulfillment at the finale.  While the keyboard sounded like the wind blowing through the desert, it remained in harmony with the words she sings in a tone similar to a gentle lullaby that doesn’t put anyone to sleep, “Got a lot of things to say, not a lot of things to do,” her captivating lyrics had me tapping my feet to each syllable. I admired how there was a two minute guitar solo. As Carly muted her voice at the start of the instrumental part, she played the guitar with as much vibrancy as her vocals; the guitar added youthfulness to the song; it could continue for years to come without deteriorating over time; it  provided me hope with an everlasting life. The performance however ended as soon as Carly realized she was playing over the expected time. I did not want it to be over. I felt rejuvenated listening to live upbeat music in a dreary small town. She had a creative goodbye by quickly saying “BBDE” in a cheery tone that had the audience walking out with a smile on their faces. Carly made me believe that I can live forever as she sang her ecstatic melisma into the microphone as a memorable farewell. She had a charming expression and whimsical tone on her face that lived up to her band’s name as it made me experience birth again during a season where I consider myself to be dead.

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I Thought You Didn’t Even Like Leaving (This Prince Daddy and the Hyena concert)

Driving nearly three hours to the post-industrial Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania to witness two bands lifting up the punk rock scene is the only way to spend a Saturday night. The linchpin of Stroudsburg’s Main Street, Sherman Theatre, is a rebuilt cinema from the 1920s and even sports a concessions stand filled with popcorn at the entrance.
Up the Interstate in Scranton, The Menzingers fill the working-class streets with life. While I had been an onlooker for Menzingers’ anthemic ballads before, I would be damned to pass up the chance to experience the high octane performance of Prince Daddy and the Hyena, led by Kory Gregory.
Fifth wave emo emerged in the early 2010’s and brought with it acts like Origami Angel, Glass Beach, and Prince Daddy and the Hyena. Prince Daddy cites their main influence as West Virginia’s own Rozwell Kid, which are themselves akin to Blue Album-esque 90’s Weezer. They are now in a position to fan the flames of the next emo wave.
As I leaned over the metal barricade sleepy from the drive, I was jolted awake by Prince Daddy’s opening song “***HIDDEN TRACK***.” Taking notes from sparklepunk and twinkle emo with the instrumental backing, Kory’s vocals cut through with lyrics like, “You had a long damn day at work and you still got paid less than dirt.” A line which may resonate well with listeners leaving their shitty job to come to this concert.
“I Forgot to Take My Meds Today” continues with Kory ripping his vocal chords to shreds for your pleasure. This track takes no breaks as he laments about withdrawal from his antidepressants, abruptly ending with a cacophony of barking dogs. The lone guitar riff slowly builds into an ebullient expression of the struggles with anxiety that is “Really?” One of their most popular pieces that garnered the greatest screams from the audience members. 
The slowed moments during the set pulled back into the dark lullaby ‘Curly Q’, written for Kory’s nephew. He laments about how his baby nephew will continue to grow and experience pain even when Kory isn’t there.
Prince Daddy and the Hyena provided enough steam to make the audience jump right into The Menzingers’ new single “Hope Is A Dangerous Little Thing.” The night drive home through the Poconos was filled with vim and vigor, trying to relive the experience we just had.