What is it like to be fun without Henessy? Doja Cat brings to mind questions like this one in her #1 charted single, “Paint the Town Red,” a track full of sonically pleasing lyrics in combination with a short, smooth trumpet melody. Sly and stylish, Doja Cat remains unapologetic as ever, rapping about shaving her head and refusing to settle down. There’s no tongue-biting here: she doesn’t give a fuck and she’s not afraid to show it. —-CHIEDU, LEVY, MANOS, THAREJA
Leave it to Doja Cat to take up the scythe as the Grim Rapper in her first no. 1 hit, “Paint the Town Red.” The demonic droning frightens the unfaithful and summons those foaming at the mouth for her new musical era. Even then she seems to be out for the blood of her Disciplines, bathing in it. Her insistence of greatness brings forth promises of revolutionary songs that will slay the haters under her reign as “She-Devil.”—ALMEIDA, LEE, OSPINA, YEARSLEY
Doja Cat has certainly painted the town red with her latest single. Its catchy verve belies the song’s soothing combination of pulsating bass, chirping horns and the Cat’s silky, transfixing tones of voice. Creating a pillowy self-indulgent hook, Doja harmonizes with herself, playing on her identity as the “Devil.” The track listens like Doja has indoctrinated herself into a Satanic cult, but with so much charm you can’t help wanting to join her. —FERRY, GOLDBERG, MOINI, NELSON
The illustrious British producer’s latest releases highlight their creative streak, with a diverse array of electronica
The surrealist cover of Vegyn and Francis Hornsby’s new spoken-word album
“When the hell is Frank Ocean releasing a new album?” I don’t know, but Vegyn might. The 31-year-old UK-based glitch-hop and prog-house extraordinaire, best known for producing Frank Ocean’s Endless and Blonde, has been steadily pumping out projects over the past four years. Now having made his own label, 3 albums, 3 EPs, and 2 mixtapes—with one a staggering two-and-a-half-hours long—it’s safe to say that Vegyn’s taken Frank Ocean’s silence as a message to double down on his sound. Admirably, Vegyn isn’t simply copying the same production formula across all these projects. Ranging from ambient house-thumping ragers to his own disconcertingly minimal (yet melodic) take on intelligent dance music, Vegyn’s unabashedly pushes his songwriting in new directions. In the last two months alone, he’s ricocheted between avant-garde poetry to prog-house with surprising dexterity.
The Head Hurts but the Heart Knows the Truth—the aforementioned ‘avant-garde poetry’ album—is perhaps the biggest change in sound Vegyn’s made to date. The trip-hop-driven album unleashes a hurricane of melancholically booming synths yet is calmly centered around the narrator’s psychosis-propelled spoken-word poetry. The stream-of-consciousness lyrics, written by Francis Hornsby and delivered by AI, revolve around sardonic stories about the narrator’s past lives, detailing their thoughts on music, love, spring onions, and everything in between. “I used to take my breakfast off of a mirror / Now I just walk around and stare at people at the park” are the unwelcoming first two lines in the project. The surrealistic implications of ‘staring’ juxtapose the familiarity of simply people watching. It’s clear the narrator is unwell.
The album also marks Vegyn’s departure from minimalistic-glitch-hop-inspired beats, though he makes his ambient influences clear: “Truisms 4 Dummies” and “Bucket Listener” are Boards of Canada worship, with synth and guitar lines that ground the listener with the weight of emotional memory. This style of instrumentation lends itself perfectly to a spoken-word album. Cathartic strings and synths dot (and at times swallow) the instrumentation of “Business Opportunities,” giving the AI’s emotionless voice faux depth. Hornsby expertly weaves between stories of drug abuse and lost love in this track as well, making it easy to get lost in the narrator’s musings. “I felt happy in a secret way / Naked obviously, / Angry that I could hear voices / But really, / I was at peace with everything.” Some lines cut through the mix and demand the listener’s attention, like a stopped clock being right three times a day.
While Vegyn does demonstrate he’s able to produce a compelling album in this style, the narrator’s storytelling can be too cryptic at times, giving the album moments of embarrassing bathos. “Of all the onions in the world / I prefer spring onions,” the narrator interjects in “Truisms 4 Dummies,” right after discussing how life makes them feel “both dead and alive.” Contrary to its purpose, these intrusive comments don’t highlight the narrator’s deteriorating mental condition, they instead clumsily show that Vegyn has yet to find his footing in this sub-genre of trip-hop. Despite its kitschy attributes, there’s a lot to love about Head; it explores a style of electronica rarely indulged in. Forgoing his pattern of musical reinvention, I hope Vegyn returns to the album to smooth out its rough edges.
Less than two months after Head’s release, Vegyn’s new single “Makeshift Tourniquet” made for a particularly surprising listen given its lack of experimentation. It begins with spacey house-inspired synths pulsating in and out over a sample of a man discussing “the creative process.” His words are masked by the flow of synths, only discernible when they ebb back. As the synth’s reverb starts spiraling out of control, the song plunges the listener into the depths of a frigid and sparsely populated underground electronic venue; a crispy drum loop replaces the ethereal echoes which are now just a backdrop to the song’s new head snapping anthem. Where a lesser artist would have let the synths engulf the mix in a saccharine chant, Vegyn’s subversion of the dance formula forces listeners to perk their ears and focus on the production’s minute changes.
Despite not seeking to redefine genres like Vegyn’s other works, “Makeshift Tourniquet” is an incredibly gripping track which sits right in the middle of prog-house’s oft-explored motifs–apart from its surprisingly minimalist drop. This, to me, is a welcome change. Partially as the result of his reinvention, Vegyn oftentimes struggles with developing depth to some tracks. Head’s small bumps in production and layout are clear growing pains from Vegyn’s introduction to the spoken-word sub-genre. Some sections of his other albums (Only Diamonds Cut Diamonds) are also so minimal, I can’t help but wonder if there’s supposed to be more to the mix. Sometimes reinvention is unnecessary. For Vegyn’s next release, let’s hope he continues his foray onto already-established sound.
Stellar performances mark the beginning of Gabriela Estévez’s time as Cornell’s newest conductor.
The expansive space of Bailey Hall, packed with musicians and audience members alike. Cornell Orchestras Facebook, 2022
The stone steps were slicked with rain as audience members entered Bailey Hall on Saturday for the first concert of the semester featuring the Cornell Chamber Orchestra and the Cornell Symphony Orchestra. Everyone was eager to see the debut of Maestra Gabriela Gómez Estévez, a flutist and director of the two ensembles. The program showcased a diversity among music, from the contemporary American composer Jessie Montgomery to the world-renowned composer of the Romantic Era Antonin Dvorak.
Silence fell upon the hall as Estévez took the stage, and Montgomery’s “Starburst” opened the program with a cacophonous dialogue between shifting groups of violins, violas, and celli. Fresh pizzicati emerged from the chaos, the twenty-or-so instrumentalists creating a sound akin to the gentle flapping of butterflies in a sweet, spring afternoon. The increasing waves of sound accumulated into a tumultuous tone, creating a sense of urgency before finally arriving at bright chordal streaks. The unexpected ending pulsed through the hall; its abruptness eliciting a moment of quizzical silence followed by enthusiastic applause.
The chamber orchestra moved the audience from the high-voltage energy of Montgomery’s animated adventure to a contemplative meditation with George Walker’s “Lyric for Strings,” showcasing the work of the first African American composer to win a Pulitzer Prize in Music. The subtle blossoming of this introspective work increased the audience’s desire for more as the strings swelled. True to viola form, the section was a bit flat in their melodious tunes, but the audience did not have time to linger on it as a sudden modulation following the flowing lines recaptured their attention. The celli were strong in their entrance, maintaining a steady balance with the rest of the ensemble regardless of the three cellists against a dozen violinists. Although there were out of tune notes, the issue was mitigated by the mystical atmosphere created by the articulated dynamics.
This transcendence gave way to the woodsy, rustic charm of Czech composer Leos Janácek’s “Suite for Strings.” Its chorus-like opening made me expectant to see Tolkein’s Wood Elves leaving the forests of Middle Earth straight into Cornell’s Botanical Garden for the winter. (None were spotted, much to my chagrin.) The original seven-movement piece was pared down to three. While the celli proved their strength in the previous piece, they were outshone by the violins’ opening– a shame to hear. While they stumbled through some of the notes, the orchestra had no problem in following Estévez’s gestures, even though it seemed like they never looked up from their stands, and the suite was quick to end, concluding the first-half of the program.
During intermission, there were listeners tottling about as a myriad of pleasantries and salutations were exchanged. Girls in groups of three-or-more banded together in search of the bathroom, quickly moving to return before the second segment of the performance began. Twinkles of laughter overlapping with last-minute practicing filled the hall as the Cornell Symphony Orchestra members took the stage. The lights dimmed as Estévez emerged once more.
A delightful opening of Mexican pianist Jose Pable Moncayo’s most famous work “Huapango” reeled the audience in as the lively melody was passed back and forth between the strings and the winds. The dialogue between the trombone and trumpet created a fanfare-like mood, encouraging the other instrumentalists to join in on the fun.
The energetic atmosphere soon calmed as the melancholy opening of Dvorak’s “Symphony No. 8 in G Major” permeated throughout the hall. The melody pulled the audience into a trance before the playful calling of the flute opened it up to a grand fanfare. The violas and celli were in musical cahoots, their tones mixed in a harmonious way. The constant climbing created friction in the development that was later resolved in a flurry of sound, and the subsequent foreboding modulations allowed the end of the movement to shine brightly.
The Wood Elvish aura returned as the second movement featured a lyrical opening of strings, but it was quickly rebutted by an interchange with the winds. The competition between the two sections created an atmosphere of friendly tension, and the marcato motif provided markers of space between the interactions. The beautiful violin solo guided the flutes (and later the rest of the orchestra) through the development and to the next theme. The flute motif was recalled but with a minor twinge accompanied by the clarinets, which soon turned into a beautiful, well-rehearsed duet in the woodwinds. While the exchange of chords was Tchaikovsky-esque– reminiscent of the opening to “Romeo and Juliet: Fantasy Overture”– it provided a mystical feel to the piece. However, the fullness of sound was distinctly Dvorak, bringing the second movement to a close.
Unfortunately, in the middle of the third movement, the stamina and consistency of the rhythm began to lag– not at the fault of one section in particular, but the ensemble as a whole seemed to have lost its coherence. They quickly regrouped after a few measures and continued strong. The oscillating feel of the music mimicked the swaying of a ship, accompanied by the romantic, yearning in the violins as they slid up and down the fingerboard. The lightness of pizzicati and a singular chord made a simple ending to a zesty movement.
The principal flautist, sophomore Abigail Black was hard at work in the final movement, leading the ensemble into the next theme. The work’s seamless transitions between melodies was executed flawlessly by the ensemble. The celli returned with a lyrical melody for the last time, joined by the violins’ sweet tones. The strings enjoyed a last walk through a harmonious field of melodies before passing it along to the winds. After a moment of pianissimo from all sections, the fanfare was back with a whirlwind, and the piece closed with fast-paced eighths contrasted with long, broad chords, ending the program with a bang.
The thunderous applause was immediate, and as it continued, the audience began to stand in ovation for the stellar performance. As Bailey Hall began to empty, compliments and praise were bestowed upon the musicians for their high-caliber performance, bringing a fitting end to an impressive musical display.
