I can make it good, I can make it hood, I can make you come, I can make you go! I can make it high, I can make it fly, make you touch the sky, hey maybe so!
Tuesday, January 03, 2017
NICE AS F*CK! : The Albums, 2016.
01/solange/a seat at the table
When you can't even be you up in your home. When you're sick of asking "Where's the peace?" "Where's the glory?" When you're sick of being asked and answering the same questions at the wrong damn time again ("Why you always talking shit? Always be complaining?") and again ("Why you always gotta be so mad?") and still find yourself unheard or misunderstood. When they don't understand what this all means: where we choose to go, what we're meant to know; these feelings that we wear. When you got all this Magic that can no longer and should no longer be contained. When everybody wanna be the teacher, but don't want to go school.
When all of this continues to add to your growing sense of weary towards the ways of the world, and it's keeping you from leaving your mark on the world, it's enough to make you question your purpose in life, or question if you even belong.
"I do..."
"I do", she said, early on. "I belong". So she sought glory by looking inward. She sought salvation in the task of keeping the rhythm, just like the greats did before her, Black, of kin and not. She found beauty in being Black, comfort in her expressions of this pride, the shit that's "for us and by us": that good old soul music; activist and joyous rhythm & blues not too far removed from that of the 70s and early 80s. She fell in her ways, in order to not crumble. Gathered herself and her thoughts in order to be heard clearly, understood. These feelings she wears.
She walked in her ways so she could sleep at night. She spoke up because "you can't pull a plug on us and tell us it's over", not she. She got sick of being asked the same damn questions at the wrong damn time. Being told how to police her grief, wear her hair, when, where, and how she can and should speak up.
So she took a seat at the table and spoke on it. And when they asked her if she belongs, she replied with this, an "I do" so loud and confident and full of magic. So she would not crumble. So she can sleep at night. So that she can make her place in the world with a clear mind and open heart. So that she can keep her head above water in an increasingly tumultuous world. She pulled up a chair and spoke on it so that she can wake up, keep the rhythm, and continue to rise like those who came before her did, and like those of us must continue to do from here on out, til death do us part.
KEY TRACKS: Cranes In the Sky/Mad/Don't Touch My Hair
02/frank ocean/blonde
03/angel olsen/my woman
04/danny brown/atrocity exhibition
05/blood orange/freetown sound
06/kanye west/the life of pablo
07/radiohead/a moon shaped pool
08/anderson .paak/malibu
09/helado negro/private energy
10/car seat headrest/teens of denial
11/beyonce/lemonade
12/a tribe called quest/"we got it from here... thank you 4 your service"
13/nxworries/yes lawd!
14/nice as fuck/nice as fuck
15/childish gambino/"awaken, my love!"
16/rihanna/anti
17/parquet courts/human performance
18/kaytranada/99.9%
19/devendra banhart/ape in pink marble
20/david bowie/blackstar
21/the julie ruin/hit reset
22/jessy lanza/oh no
23/junior boys/big black coat
24/majid jordan/majid jordan
25/badbadnotgood/iv
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment