On Growing Up with Lana del Rey
She’s edgy. She’s mesmerizing. She’s been defined as “simply godly” and “jesus” on Urban Dictionary.
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She’s edgy. She’s mesmerizing. She’s been defined as “simply godly” and “jesus” on Urban Dictionary.
Yeezus is a landmark in hip hop history and a lesson in innovation. It traded in the self–hatred and self–consciousness of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (MBDTF) and externalized it into discontent and unadulterated rage towards the outside world. And, it did so through more piercing, sometimes incoherent lyrics and a heavy industrial sound that had never been heard in popular music before. It put aside all of hip hop’s clichés and conventions and, despite being initially polarizing for popular audiences, it has finally made enough of an impact in the music world that its place and influence on the hip hop timeline are undeniable. As Philippe Atallah (C '21), said in an interview with Street, “I used to place it last on my Kanye power ranking, now it’s close to first.”
You’ve heard these bangers blasting out of Uber windows at 2 a.m., at your local clubs, and at parties on the more international end of the spectrum; a blend of reggaeton and American trap is blowing up worldwide. Even if you don’t keep up with Latin artists, you’ve definitely heard them over the radio or featured in songs by prominent North American artists such as Cardi B, Tekashi 6ix9ine, and Justin Bieber.
Despite her stage name, Noname, 27–year–old Fatimah Warner is anyone but someone you should ignore. Rather, her stage name identifies her as a rejection of mass–produced modern hip–hop—Noname is one of the few rappers releasing music independently, bound to no contract or label. Growing up in Chicago, her rap is rooted in the city’s slam poetry and open mic scene which dominated her childhood. Noname has cemented herself as a rapper who weaves together jazz and neo–soul beats with an elaborately rhymed flow after being featured on “Lost,” a song from her hometown friend Chance the Rapper’s mixtape, Acid Rap, as well as the release of her own successful mixtape Telefone. Both mixtapes received rave reviews from magazines like Rolling Stone and Pitchfork.
The next generation of pop artists are defining a new genre for themselves: bedroom pop. The label most likely got its name from Clairo’s viral “Pretty Girl” music video, which was filmed entirely on a laptop webcam in her bedroom. Since then, bedroom pop has expanded to include any new artist with lo–fi electronics and contemplative lyrics. While there are male artists making music under this new category, some of the best work comes from the women behind it. So next time you need to waste an hour or two with a mini existential crisis in your own bedroom, put these female artists on in the background.
It’s fall—a season of plodding down Locust Walk in a turtleneck as you shiver and clutch your arms closer towards you, of the leaves on the trees in College Green turning brown and withering, of the pastel–grey sky draining of sunlight, of rain, returning to campus, and midterms. It’s easy to feel fatigued in the fall, the chilliness sucking the energy out of you. The desire to let your music consumption be entirely composed of study playlists that fade into the background and songs you’ve already listened to a hundred times is tantalizing. Instead, here’s some music that mirrors the season’s autumnal vibes while cheering you up on that cloudy September afternoon.
For all the fun and freedom college promises, it often falls short of expectations. Penn is no different. It’s a social quagmire—countless students come here looking for a set of like–minded individuals to befriend, yet find themselves shattered by the hypercompetitive nature of clubs and internships, the debilitating effects of heavy academic workloads, and the exclusiveness of social spheres in Greek life. Sometimes, you find yourself alone on a Friday night, with no one to call upon. You feel lost. We've all been there. And sometimes you just need a good cry to let it all out. Here are the best albums to listen to when you’re sad:
At first listen, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of “I Love It,” the new track from Kanye West and Lil Pump. The track was released Sept. 7 alongside its music video at the inaugural Pornhub Awards, where West served as the creative director after reiterating his long–running enjoyment of adult entertainment. The song has blown up on social media through memes on Twitter and Facebook, receiving over 76 million views in its first week on YouTube. The video features West and Lil Pump wearing giant rectangular body suits as they follow a lady down a hallway lined with statues. With a vapid, misogynistic chorus of “You’re such a f***ing h**, I love it,” similarly superficial verses, and simplistic production, its success might seem confusing at first. Why exactly did “I Love It” end up being the first hip hop hit of Fall 2018, debuting at #6 on the Billboard Hot 100?
This article is part of 34th Street's Philadelphia, Curated issue. Click here to see more of our favorite spots from all over the city.
After Penn Football thumped Bucknell 34–17 this past Saturday, students continued the celebrations and merriment nearby at Shoemaker Green at the annual fall music festival, jointly hosted by SPEC, Penn Traditions, Penn Athletics, and the Class Boards. Skimmerfest had all the goods: a free concert, free food, and free giveaways.
Iconic Philly music venue Electric Factory has been sold to The Bowery Presents in a move announced Wednesday, September 12th. The Bowery Presents is a New York-based concert holder and promoter. The space has temporarily been named North Seventh, but the venue company is holding an open renaming contest for the former Electric Factory, promising tickets to all shows through 2020 as a reward.
Picture this: you rushed out the door this morning and a block away from your destination, you pat your pockets and realize you forgot your headphones. What do you do? Well, the answer is quite straightforward: find a spot that has some music playing for everyone. There’s something ideal about having background sounds to keep one company through the exasperating essays, the cluttered coffee chats, and the droll dinner discussions. Still, it has to be a mix of good tracks and various genres; heavy metal probably doesn’t sound like a great idea to most people. A few campus locations are particularly better than others at providing an optimal sonic atmosphere for the student populace. Here are three of them:
I turned off my phone, tied back my hair, and rolled up my sleeves. Propping up my elbows, I arranged my hands into the familiar position had now become muscle memory. My fingers grazed over the sea of plastic packaging, filing through every album until one interrupted my steady flow of sorting.
For much of 2018, it seemed as if hip hop was in a funk—artist after artist dropped albums with huge expectations that ended up falling short. From the sonic travesty that was Migos’ Culture II in January, to another snooze–fest courtesy of J. Cole with K.O.D., to Drake’s mediocre Scorpion, there has been little to celebrate in the rap sphere. Outside of Kendrick Lamar’s Black Panther: The Album and Kids See Ghosts’ self–titled debut, there was minimal critical acclaim for emcees.
I first heard Mitski when she opened for Lorde at the Wells Fargo Center last April, but that’s not when I fell in love her. I remember thinking, as the Lorde cult member that I am, that if the composer of my young adult life chose this artist, she must be pretty good. So that’s what I thought as I waited for Mitski to come out two hours before the headliner. I heard the set, but didn’t think much of it. Unfortunately, between the noise of people crowding into the stadium, my excitement for Lorde herself, and my unfamiliarity with Mitski, I ended up going home and forgetting about her.
I’ve never held a copy of the Village Voice in my hands. I’ve never lived in Greenwich Village, or New York at all. In fact, I never had much of a direct relationship with the counterculture alt–weekly at all, and the little I did know about it was secondhand information from my former–hippie father. Nonetheless, my heart felt an unexpected twisting ache when the paper announced last week that it would no longer publish new material.
Icons are everywhere, but they all started somewhere. From Noam Chomsky to Elon Musk, to Elizabeth Banks and Tory Burch, Penn has famous alumni in every field—business, politics, athletics, you name it. That includes famous artists who have made their mark in the music industry, topping Billboard charts for years with lasting hits. While non–exhaustive by any means, here's a ranking of the five most iconic songs by Penn alums:
Nine Track Mind, Charlie Puth’s 2016 album, launched him into success. And I hated it. “We Don’t Talk Anymore,” “Marvin Gaye,” and worst of all ”One Call Away” were so similar in their gushy, fuckboy–turned–spoke–word–poet vibe that they made me reject Puth altogether as an artist. Not to mention, in perhaps the greatest offense of all, Nine Track Mind had twelve tracks.
Everything Is Love is the nine–track finale to the trilogy of the Carters’ albums about adultery and apology. It’s full of mentions of the couple’s wealth, their love, and their race, and is a bold new direction for two mega–stars (or one mega–star and Jay).
This article contains spoilers for HBO’s limited series “Sharp Objects.”
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