Mitski Comes Into Her Own On 'Puberty 2'

Maturity is a tricky concept. We talk about it as if it’s some elusive nirvana attainable only through a vague combination of time and experience, but in reality the path to maturity is a long, twisted clusterfuck that you don’t even realize you’ve been following until you look at where you were the year before and realize how much you’ve changed… or how much you haven’t. As New York singer-songwriter Mitski Miwayaki puts it in her song "Crack Baby," it’s “a long, hard 20-year summer vacation.”

In this sense, Mitski’s fourth album Puberty 2 is her most “mature” to date – not an Ariana-in-leather-bunny-ears declaration of adulthood, but rather a weary demonstration of the hard-earned emotional clarity that comes from years of trying and failing to Figure It Out. She has channeled the raw emotional overload of her modern classic Bury Me At Makeout Creek into a more lush, expansive sound without losing an ounce of its gut-punch intensity.

Puberty 2 covers a broad emotional spectrum, but it is primarily defined by a longing for recognition and acceptance, even as it understands how fleeting these may be. “Dan the Dancer” and “Your Best American Girl” tell two very different stories of outsiders yearning to be understood, while “Fireworks” finds Mitski struggling to reconcile grief within her daily routine: “I will go jogging routinely, calmly and rhythmically run / And when I find that a knife’s sticking out of my side / I’ll pull it out without questioning why.” Intense blasts of emotion arrive unexpectedly – deep infatuation on “A Loving Feeling,” detached disappointment on “A Burning Hill,” and high anxiety on the contained punk rager “My Body’s Made Of Crushed Little Stars,” which sprints through Mitski’s inner monologue as she fantasizes about blowing a job interview and plotting her own disappearance. But these songs are over before you can begin to make sense of them, creating an experience as unpredictable as our own emotional cycle.

While Mitski’s expertly crafted lyrics masterfully reflect our own fickle feelings, her compositions are more confident than ever. The SUNY Purchase-trained composer and her co-producer Patrick Hyland find the perfect middle ground between the elaborate arrangements of her first two albums and the urgent garage frenzy of Bury Me At Makeout Creek. The panic-attack guitars on “My Body’s Made…” bleed into the dreamy synth globs of “Thursday Girl,” while the industrial clatter of “Happy” simultaneously recalls St. Vincent and political punks Downtown Boys.

Yet it’s impossible to listen to Puberty 2 and hear it as anything but a product of Mitski’s singular vision. Her turns of phrase provide a connective tissue for its disparate themes, and her affecting voice adapts to every new sound. She has come into her own as a writer, producer and performer, with a presence so commanding it sells every line like a short story. The genius of Puberty 2 lies in Mitski’s ability to turn this emotional whirlwind into a personal, cohesive statement. After all, there’s nothing more mature than knowing yourself.

Car Seat Headrest Finds Magic in Monotony on 'Teens of Denial'

Youth has always been a prized commodity in popular music. Whether they’re celebrating it before they lose it or looking back fondly after it’s gone, songwriters hold youth in such high regard that they lose sight of a simple, universal truth: Being young is the worst.

No one understands this better than Will Toledo, the 23-year-old mastermind behind Car Seat Headrest. Toledo has had an exciting trajectory over the past few years, as his bedroom-pop solo project evolved into a full band and signed with indie mainstay Matador Records. After last year’s acclaimed retrospective Teens of Style established CSH as a major force in the indie rock scene, Teens of Denial could have served as a victory lap; now that Toledo has made it to the big leagues, there’s nowhere to go but up.

But Teens of Denial is not a triumphant album. Success has not changed CSH’s songs, some of which have been in the works since 2013; if anything, this record sounds even more defeated than its predecessors. This is a virtue, as it allows Toledo to display his nearly unparalleled knack for humorously articulating the tiny chaos of being lost and bored in your early 20s. “It’s more than what you bargained for / But it’s a little less than what you paid for,” Toledo sings on “Destroyed By Hippie Powers,” a line that serves as the M.O. for the entire album. Confusion and guilt and anger permeate the lyrics, but Toledo imbues them with a wry levity and an offhand smirk that mask their bleak sentiment. Verses play out like shouted arguments between a parent and teen through a recently slammed bedroom door, as on opener “Fill in the Blank” when Toledo yells, “You have no right to be depressed / Haven’t seen enough of this world yet / But it hurts, it hurts, it hurts”.

But more often, that anger is directed inwards, as Toledo details the countless failed schemes and personal flaws that keep him from rising above the banality of his small town. Take “(Joe Gets Kicked Out of School for Using) Drugs With Friends (But Says This Isn’t a Problem)”, an exhausted (and exhaustingly titled) ode to our inability to curb our own self-destructive tendencies that features the indelible line “Last Friday I took acid and mushrooms / I did not transcend / I felt like a walking piece of shit in a stupid-looking jacket.” In the world of Car Seat Headrest, even psychedelics are just a different way to feel miserable.

As stunted and ineffective as the narrator comes across, Teens of Denial is CSH’s most sonically mature effort to date. The lo-fi trappings of Toledo’s Bandcamp days have been updated with a professional studio sheen that highlights the lyrics without sacrificing their urgency or impact. The hooks are stronger and more streamlined, with anthemic riffs and harmonies that glow like the sun through your window after you’ve slept til noon. The record hums with a spirit of experimentation, as if Toledo is thrilled to try out the opportunities afforded by a professional studio setting. His oddly affecting falsetto and a beautiful synth arrangement elevate the stellar “Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales,” while the 11-minute epic “The Ballad of the Costa Concordia” crescendos into an existential power ballad as Toledo rattles off a laundry list of lessons he never knew he was supposed to learn before adulthood. The song culminates in a cathartic chorus of “I GIVE UP” screamed over and over again, like an invocation chanted to keep his responsibilities at bay.

His efforts are unsuccessful; by the next song, our hero is back to complaining about how he’ll never get a job. But coming at the end of such an accomplished work, it’s a little hard to believe him. In Teens of Denial, Toledo has created a supremely confident album about crippling self-doubt. The job market may be dire, but at least Toledo has a fallback gig as the reluctant voice of a generation.

Chance the Rapper Reconciles Heaven and Hell on “Angels”

Chance the Rapper might have the least fitting moniker in hip hop. It’s not that Chicago’s Chancelor Bennett isn’t a rapper; as his new single attests, he can rap his ass off, packing complicated rhyme schemes with references and wordplay in a voice both urgent and effortless. But Chance the Rapper does so much more than his name implies, and “Angels” manages to pack it all into one song.

Chance premiered the single in an incredible The Late Show with Stephen Colbert performance that might be the best late night showing since Future Islands took Letterman by storm in 2014. It’s yet another accomplishment for Chance in a year that’s already seen him tour the country, release an album with his band Donnie Trumpet & The Social Experiment, and become a father. “Angels” finds Chance assessing his responsibilities in the aftermath of his success, touching on his roles as an independent rapper (“Only ever sold merch”), a father (“Clean up the streets so my daughter can have somewhere to play”), and a community figurehead. In fact, his hometown’s DNA is a crucial element of the song’s alchemy, from Chicago rapper Saba’s regional slang on the hook to Chance’s heartbreaking cry, “There’s too many young angels on the South side.”

“Angels” is the rare song that mixes joy and devastation, pride and disappointment, Steve Jobs and Chief Keef, boiling it all down into an infectious footwork banger. And Chance the Rapper is the rare artist who can pull it off.

Big Boi and Phantogram Play to Each Other's Strengths on 'Big Grams EP'

At this point, collaborations between artists from disparate genres aren’t a new concept. While a rapper remixing an indie band’s hit single used to be cause for confusion or celebration, these days it’s common for, say, Big K.R.I.T. to add a verse to an alt-J single. But these tracks tend to lack a sense of immediacy ­– more often than not, it sounds like the rapper just recorded a verse on the road and emailed it to the band’s manager.

Big Grams – the new collaboration between Atlanta rapper Big Boi of Outkast fame and New York electro-pop duo Phantogram – feels refreshing in comparison. Big Boi discovered Phantogram through a pop-up ad (making Big Grams the most compelling argument against Spotify Premium so far), before the trio tested the waters on three of the standout tracks from Big Boi’s 2012 album Vicious Lies And Dangerous Rumors.

It’s a testament to the versatility of both artists’ sounds that this new, full collaboration covers several different styles, never content to stay in one lane. Opener “Run for Your Life” features Big Boi maneuvering an anxious, clattering beat that feels nearly claustrophobic until Sarah Barthel’s soothing hook emerges like a sunrise on a dark night. Two tracks later, standout single “Fell In The Sun” lays Phantogram’s signature synths and horn samples over skittering hi-hats to produce a warm, exuberant summer jam that sounds like an ice cream truck riding on hydraulics.

Barthel recently told Rolling Stone, “The main focus of wanting to do this project was to do things that we wouldn't normally do anywhere else,” and the EP’s experimental streak extends to its guests: Rap legend 9th Wonder and dubstep wunderkind Skrillex contribute production to “Put It On Her” and “Drum Machine,” respectively, but these tracks don’t feel out of place alongside Josh Carter’s stylistically omnivorous production. Similarly, “Born to Shine” matches the aggressive energy of guests Run the Jewels while still feeling like a Big Grams song. Big Boi’s verse compliments the tone and theme of “Lights On” without feeling superfluous, while his playful sing-rap conversation with Barthel on “Goldmine Junkie” is one of the record’s most thrilling moments.

Not everything works – there are moments where Barthel’s hooks feel like an afterthought, and Big Boi has a tendency to fall back on familiar subject matter (if you don’t want to hear multiple references to Big Boi’s semen, Big Grams EP might not be for you), but the project succeeds overall because both parties understand each other’s styles and what makes them work, allowing them to play to their strengths while simultaneously exploring new, unexpected directions. Over the course of their debut EP, Big Grams prove that cross-genre collaborations are more than just a gimmick – as long as they’re done right.

Get Your Big Grams Fix With “Goldmine Junkie”

It’s a testament to the powerful chemistry at work in Big Grams that their partnership is still taking on new and interesting forms. While “Fell in the Sun” highlighted Big Boi’s verses and “Lights On” put Phantogram front and center, new single “Goldmine Junkie” is the most collaborative effort we’ve heard from their forthcoming Big Grams EP so far.

The song’s lyrics detail an unhealthy love affair over plaintive piano chords and soaring strings, and while the hook isn’t the strongest in either artist’s catalog, the interplay between Big Boi and Phantogram singer Sarah Barthel brings both vocalists out of their respective comfort zones. Big Boi’s verses boast a melodic dexterity that we rarely hear from him, while Barthel drops an impressive rap interlude that sounds unlike any performance she’s delivered in the past. When the two trade lines on the song’s interlude, it’s a genuinely thrilling moment that feels like the purest realization of Big Grams’ potential.

Big Grams EP is out September 25th via Epic/Republic.

Big Grams Keep The "Lights On" in Second Single

In any partnership, it’s important to know when to take a backseat. And while Atlanta rapper Big Boi is arguably a bigger name than New York electro-pop duo Phantogram, his co-conspirators in the new collaborative project Big Grams, his experience as half of legendary rap duo Outkast has clearly taught him to know when to cede the spotlight. “Lights On,” the second single from the upcoming Big Grams EP, further proves Big Boi’s skill for elevating those around him.

While first single “Fell in the Sun” relegated Sarah Barthel and Josh Carter to hook and beat duty, respectively, “Lights On” is undoubtedly Phantogram’s show. And the duo makes the most of it, delivering a wistful track that captures the intangible longing for companionship that only seems to come around when you’re alone at 3 AM.

Although Big Boi features less prominently in “Lights On” than his partners, he makes the most of his time with a spry verse that touches on subjects ranging from loss to materialism to the adverse effects of Adderall. (Although his pronunciation of “Savannah, Georgia” is the undisputed highlight of the track.) What’s truly impressive is Big Boi’s ability to elevate the track without betraying its emotional impact. Then again, maybe we shouldn’t be surprised that the expert collaborators in Big Grams have written a song about finding someone who completes you.

Big Grams EP is out September 25th via Epic/Republic.

Big Boi + Phantogram Collab Big Grams Fall in the Sun With First Single

While Atlanta rapper Big Boi and New York electronic duo Phantogram are strong artists in their own right, both seem to thrive on collaboration. After Phantogram contributed three of the standout tracks from Big Boi’s 2012 album Vicious Lies And Dangerous Rumors, the trio has reunited under the Big Grams moniker and announced the Big Grams EP, set to drop later this month. And while the group’s previous collaborations are enough to make this exciting news, first single “Fell In The Sun,” (which premiered on Beats Radio 1) suggests that this team-up has brought out the best in both parties.

The genius of “Fell In The Sun” lies in the interplay between these seemingly disparate artists, as Sarah Barthel’s exuberant hook mingles with Daddy Fat Sax’s playful verses over a warm, crackling beat from Josh Carter that sounds like Big Boi’s “Shine Blockas” playing on warped vinyl. On the bridge Barthel sings, “Dealt this dope from ATL to New York,” but what Big Grams has cooked up might be even more addictive.

Big Grams EP is out September 25th via Epic/Republic