Radio One 91FM

San Franciscans break San Fran

Do you ever have those moments at shows where you feel like a Guitar Hero crowd NPC? That is, egoless, blissed out in a sea of like minds, arms pumping and heads banging in unison, collectively in utter awe of a band. It’s a vibe that manifests rarely and one I’ve not felt in a hot minute, but seeing Deafheaven shred San Fran last Thursday gave me flashes of that nirvana.
 
The show was sold out, packed to the rafters with the usual suspects. Doc Marten-hooved alties, metal heads, goths, bogans, and ne’er-do-wells of all ages. Some buddies and I arrived 10 minutes early hoping to beat the line, but the line beat us back - it was proper long. Alas it was the wrong line to worry about, because anyone who wanted merch had to contend with dozens of eager fans desperate to cop some dope tees.
 
Nothing (the band) was set to open but because of some pesky visa issues they couldn’t make it. Thankfully, local doomgaze trio Libbianski stepped in and killed it. I’d already seen Libbianski in April and knew what to expect, but this time round they showcased even more contrast between slow riffy jams and high octane Pōneke black metal tracks like Pigtails. Loved the dichotomy between the femme wailing and masculine guttural vocals, also shoutout to drummer Tom LaHatte who was really, really fun to watch.
 
Normally when an opener finishes, gig goers disperse to yarn with mates, buy a drink, punch a dart outside, et al. I was bewildered at how the audience stayed glued to their spots in static anticipation for the entire switch-over period, eagerly awaiting the San Francisco-based blackgaze quintet, Deafheaven. Once the soundies finished setting up, stashing a dozen water bottles around the stage, a Twin Peaks-esque synth filtered in and an ASMR worthy femme voice softly rang out. She questioned the audience on loneliness and existence (their new album is called Lonely People With Power, go figure).
 
While pondering what it all meant, Deafheaven took to the stage. With all five dressing in all black, everyone knew we were in for some turbulence. Frontman George Clark acted as our infernal conductor, mechanically positioning his hands and arms to inform the audience that the drums were ratcheting up or to signal an impending phat riff. Clark soothsaid the band's chaos while delivering his signature strained, throat-scathing screams. 

Good bands confidently play live but great bands add stagecraft; it’s a preventive salve for any possible monotony. Deafheaven weren’t just playing their new record though, their performance fleshed out Lonely People With Power’s story through sonic interludes. Church bells and Lynchian ambience rang between songs – and just as it was coming together, the band abruptly left.

For a moment, we all thought the party was over, but the band merely wanted us hyped for the final act where Deafheaven turned into Deafhell. With piercing blood red and white light strobing behind them, Clark and co. went into a full satanic panic death metal spiral. Here is where I felt like a Guitar Hero crowd NPC, especially when they played Dream House in its 10-minute glory and, accordingly, the mosh was pumping full throttle.
 
Deafheaven manoeuvre between soft and heavy with grace, stretching these boundaries to their logical conclusion while maintaining an emotional core. Lonely People With Power does this effortlessly, combining the gnarliest elements from their 2013 standout record Sunbather with more gentle passages from 2021’s Infinite Granite. It was an absolute pleasure to see Deafheaven play Lonely People With Power live, I’ll be chasing the high from this show for some time.

Credit: Zac Hoffman

Credit: Zac Hoffman

Every Carti release generates vigorous emotional responses in the online hip-hop world akin to an American election cycle. So I thought it’s best to play it safe and let MUSIC sit for a while before thinking about it. MUSIC has been out for a month now, the hate/hype cycle has died down and nuance can reign for this long-awaited album.

The evolution of Play-Station game consoles tracks quite well with the evolution in Playboi Carti’s originality and influence with each album release. Carti’s self-titled was weird, playful, colourful and full of simple glitchy trap beats (thank you Pierre Bourne) just as the PS1 had lovable, low-res, low-polygonal models and settings. Just as the PS2 escaped that lovable jank and flexed its graphical muscle, refining its stories and series, Die Lit revamped Carti’s style, as the Atlanta rapper went more experimental with his flows, the instrumentals were harsher/sugary. 

Die Lit bought Carti a lot of attention and unfortunately, due to rabid fans leaking all his music, Carti had to revamp his sound for 2020’s Whole Lotta Red (the PS3). This marked an era-defining pivot from fun and sometimes punky saccharine bassy trap to the synthy, gravely compressed stylings of rage music. After listening to MUSIC several painstaking times, it’s technically an evolution, just as the PS3 revolutionised 720p gaming and PS4 standardised 1080p. But a leap in graphics feels meaningless when art direction, character and consistency are either absent or subpar, which is pretty much how MUSIC plays out.

There’s a lot to like about MUSIC. Carti really dives into his trap R&B bag with tracks like RATHER LIE ft. The Weekend, FINE SHIT & BACKDOOR ft. Kendrick Lamar with beaucoup success. These tracks really showcase the versatility of Carti’s new strained, breathy style while his guests deliver shining performances. Much like a fly searching for a window, Lamar’s VV’s on your decolleté hook on BACKDOOR is still buzzing around my cranium.

Carti’s inclusion of Atlanta DJ Swamp Izzo to yell SWAMP IZZO and CARTI all over this thing is reminiscent of Beyonce sampling black queer figures on Renaissance for texture’s sake. Just as their confident disembodied voices would yell cunty or honey over some of the most vogue-inducing dance music you’ll ever hear, SWAMP IZZO ADDS A DEAFENING JE NE SAIS QUOI TO ANYTYHING CARTI SAYS, VERBAL OR OTHERWISE.

IZZO’s inclusion, although grating at times, bolsters the darker 70% of MUSIC. He effortlessly worms his way into the listeners brain on tracks like the Metro Boomin’ produced bling-era throwback RADAR, where Carti’s new strained and deep voices contrast with repeated bombastic ad-libds of SWAMP & CARTI in the foreground. It’s tracks like RADAR or the low-key, 808 heavy TOXIC (with Skepta) or the ear-splitting, bouncy and guitar-backed CRANK where the taringa feels most blessed. COCAINE NOSE with its over compressed synth line smothering this bizarre string sample with these overblown drum machine noises is what MUSIC should sound like – it’s a genuinely new Carti sound.

MUSIC’s main downfall comes from aimless songs, lacklustre guest performances, and a bloated tracklist/runtime. Who is listening to an hour 16 minutes, over 30 songs, of late-stage Carti? Well regrettably a great deal of people - the point remains, this thing is too long, and it wouldn’t have to be if there was any quality control. WE NEED ALL DA VIBES (ft. Young Thug & Ty Dolla $ign) should be on Thug’s 2019 LP So Much Fun, not here. The Carti-less Twin Trim sees nanged-up Lil Uzi Vert squander a cute beat, meanwhile JUMPIN has one Carti verse and Uzi dominating the lions share for no discernible reason.

If those songs were bad or unnecessary then what is CHARGE DEM HOES A FEE ft. Future & Travis Scott. These three are experts in their field, yet this song is so banal and tedious, the vocals are spaced badly, and it just goes onnnnnnnn. On TRIM Future has energy, yet here he’s just like moaning and grunting in autotune while Travis is literally wallpaper. In fact, Travis is wallpaper on all four songs he appears on. It’s bamboozling Carti didn’t include his acolytes and label signees Ken Carson and Destroy Lonely but can let Lil Uzi, Travis Scott and Future meander through nearly a third of the album.   

MUSIC is remarkable from an artist like Carti because it proves he isn’t a creature solely composed of hype just yet. He still has gas in the tank, even if the low-reserve light is blinking graciously. If you told anyone 10 years ago an album like MUSIC would be #1 and have its entire track list chart on the top 100, you’d be a laughingstock.  How an album as unappealing and strange (speaking in relative terms here mate) like MUSIC can pull that off is quite an accomplishment. Playboi Carti is experimenting with two things on MUSIC: what popular trap can sound like, and fan patience. Although his fans have forgiven the 5-year delay and numerous album release fake-outs, I cannot forgive Carti for putting out an album that, despite the praise, A-list guests, and glorious compression, feels like a flat tire when listened to as an album.

Since last September when Bunchy’s first single ‘Scrapbook’ debuted, I’ve been enamoured with the band’s lo-fi approach, their signature art-rock sound, and their children’s storybook aesthetic. Bunchy’s are an absolute breath of fresh air in the music scene, and going to see them perform was a must. After watching the band play @Yours last Saturday, I am happy to report that they are every bit as good live as they are recorded.

And who better to open for Bunchy’s than Eris & U-No Juno. Unfortunately, due to a Potluck I didn’t make it to see Eris (sorry gang) and I only made it to see about half of U-No Juno’s set. Immediately upon walking into Yours, the Bunchy’s crew were manning door sales and handing out ear plugs – a massive green flag in my book. I love noisy noises as much as the next person, but mate, you’re gambling with your hearing if you go to gigs and don’t plug up. Especially if you’re going to see U-No Juno, they held the crowd in the palm of their hand with their mix of decibel shattering punk and alt. rock. With the band’s lead looking like a very young Thom Yorke and having his energy to boot, I was having a rollicking good time hearing the band belt out banger after banger. Also fairly certain I’ve bought darts from one of the members at what will remain an unidentified convenience store, so big ups for facilitating my silliest proletarian vice (if you haven’t started please don’t).

Once Bunchy’s commenced, the gig entered a sincere and surreal child-like space. The crowd attempted to keep balloons with simple sharpie-engraved faces air-borne, some attendees played a rousing game of handball with a very tiny very bouncy ball which had a mind of its own, and a strawberry-topped sponge cake (Happy Birthday Daniel Johnston) sat adjacently to the crowd. All this with no alcohol in sight, yippee!

Crowd theatrics aside, Bunchy’s Big Score delivered big time, utilising the contrast of serious and parody which makes their music so innovative to create a memorable performance of seamless transitions and out of the blue medleys. That’s right we’re talkin’ covers – Foo Fighters There’s My Hero, a Bunchyified Thunderstruck, some rockabilly kicks and Neutral Milk Hotels’ The King of Carrot Flowers, Pts. Two & Three among others. 

I can’t speak to how much fun this must’ve been to perform. Hamish (guitarist) had a knack for jumping around while shredding and joining in comradery with Max (vocals/keys) while Reef (drums) brutalised the drumkit. Giving high schoolers the opportunity to partake in a live music experience like this is an absolute boon for Ōtepoti, a city which has a renowned music output. Thanks to places like Yours and bands like Bunchy’s, Eris and U-No Juno, we’ll continue to be a city that punches above its weight in that field.