Made Fun!

I did not become someone different

that I did not want to be.

But I’m new here,

will you show me around?

So who exactly is Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx? More importantly, why should you care who they are?

Here’s a quick recap if you want to be in the know:

Gil Scott-Heron: 60-something American musician, spoken word artist, and all around sincere fellow. If you attended a liberal institution of higher learning like I did, you probably know him best for his song “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised,” which for some reason typically arises somewhere in discussion during lectures for Intro to Sociology. In my opinion, his repertoire of work falls somewhere in between the Harlem Renaissance and the neo-Renaissance of Def Jam Poetry of the late 1990s-early 2000s. His work has stood the test of time, and in addition, the release of his new album in over a decade, I’m New Here, bridges the gap between generations. If you need further investigation, pick up an album by Kanye West and see what allusions he makes to Scott-Heron.

Now, Jamie xx: 20-something Brit and beatmaker for introverted-all-around minimalist trio The xx. Armed with just ProTools and an MPC, Jamie xx’s work in The xx along with his remixes proves once again that you can say more by saying less. Much like his persona, this description of Jamie will remain concise and simple, leaving his music to speak for itself.

And now the important question you’re asking yourself: why should I care that Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx made an album together? Before you become washed over with apathy, hear me out for a second. I believe that the sheer concept of We’re New Here, the dynamic between the two, and the point each of them are currently at in their careers is reason enough for you to give this album a thorough once-over.

Here we have young’n Jamie Smith reaching out to borderline-retiree Gil Scott-Heron, two people who couldn’t be anymore different, creating a whole album together. Yes, the tracks are remixed from I’m New Here, but Jamie xx takes things in a different direction. 

Without delving into the intricacies of each track, many of the instrumentals themselves can be listened to as straight dance-ish/dubstep-y/dream-like tracks, however, the addition of Scott-Heron’s spoken word pieces and mantra-esque singing of lyrics makes the album appear slightly left of center. At times, I find myself wanting to attempt a small hipster two-step while sitting in my chair, but I also find myself wanting to create a thesis that analyzes the relation of black-America to contemporary social issues in an ever-evolving country. This bewilderment between the pleasure-lobe and academic-lobe of my brain lasts for nearly the whole album, and that’s what I think makes this album delicious.

Before I start babbling on any further, I’ll just quit while I’m ahead and leave the rest of the album for you to decide on. Personally, even though I know this LP won’t make it to heavy rotation in the clubs or on the radio, We’re New Here creates a lasting, even haunting, impression on anyone who listens to it.

Download We’re New Here.

Hello people.  I’m Clea, and I’m the latest newbie writer for this website.  Okay then, here I go. 

I have something of a love/annoyed-by relationship with Pitchfork.  My musical roots are very pop-oriented, and it used to be that lots of folks’ guilty pleasure bands were just my straight-up favorites. But in the past couple of years my tastes have started to lean more towards the indie than they have in the past—these days, Pitchfork’s album reviews are generally my go-to when I’m looking for new tunes.   But my musical journey of magical discovery isn’t solely to blame for this.  I think it’s coincided with Pitchfork generally becoming more receptive of musicians that might be associated more with pop culture, rather than indie culture.  Either way, the fact that I can no longer assume that their reviewers are gonna hate everything I love is a very strange feeling.    

However, it’s usually still safe for me to assume that my tastes are nowhere near hip enough to jive with Pitchfork’s year-end Best Of lists.  This assumption is almost always correct, but for the first time this year, the album they chose as their favorite album of 2010 was also my favorite album of the year.  That would be Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, of course.  It’s not surprising in the least, or at least it shouldn’t be—I’m sure that lots of people with ears liked  this album more than they liked anything else this year.  Honestly, what can I say about its greatness that thousands of music journalists and bloggers haven’t already said? My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is the shit.  It speaks to me, I can’t stop listening to it, I adore pretty much every second on it, etc.  

So why am I surprised at Pitchfork’s choice?  I’m surprised at my surprise that they failed to surprise me!  The thing is though, while Kanye was totally the obvious choice this year (I believe that his album was the only one that got a rating of 10.0 this year), I half-expected them to pick something else just to be purposefully indier-than-thou.  I was half-expecting a repeat performance of the 2005 brouhaha that occurred when they chose Sufjan Stevens’ Illinoise over Kanye’s Late Registration for album of the year.  That choice inspired a myriad of accusations that no matter how much they claimed to enjoy Clipse, Pitchfork was and always would be hopelessly biased towards white dudes with guitars playing indie rock.  

Five years later, they’re giving Kanye his due, and whether or not the staff at Pitchfork intended it to be, of course it seems like some kind of statement.  It seems to mark a shift for the website, and for indie culture in general.  Just as mainstream pop culture has embraced indie music (see: the mainstream popularity of Modest Mouse , Kings of Leon, Phoenix, and more bands than I could possibly list), indie culture—and, I feel, high-brow artsy fartsy culture in general—has been less and less disdainful of pop culture.  The December 6 issue of The New Yorker profiled Kanye West, and a focus on pop music in general is no longer unusual for a magazine that is still the most recognized hallmark of highbrow culture.  Wherever you look, it seems pop culture’s being taken more and more seriously.  

I can’t help but think that the internet has a lot to do with this, if only because it’s making more stuff from all over the cultural spectrum available to more people.  My generation is maturing to the tunes of Lady Gaga and Animal Collective at the same time, and we’re paying close attention to both Mad Men and Jersey Shore.  I know that some mourn the death of subcultures that used to mark new musical movements (punks listening to punk music, ravers listening to house music, etc.), but I think that it has resulted in a music scene that is more diverse and more creative, not less.  

Personally, I’m super pleased that Kanye is getting props from such high-minded establishments.  I love it!  More of that, please!  It’s exciting to see the critics acknowledging the shifts in our cultural landscape.  Thanks, Pitchfork; maybe I won’t mock you so much now.  

Kanye West recreated his living portrait video for the song “Power” on Saturday Night Live. More specifically, it was a mash-up of his VMA performance for “Runaway” and the video for “Power,” effectively pumping its awesome full of steroids and blinding you with the way the light reflects off Kanye’s gold chains. 

Can I just say that part of me still rages about losing the Kanye/Gaga tour last year? That would’ve been epic. A bunch of performance art getting messy all over everybody’s Kool-Aid-sipping faces. I would’ve been front row, though, let’s not kid ourselves.