Sorry for the delay! After two whole years of successful dodging, miss rona finally got me this past weekend. Hope you enjoy this fun playlist, and stay safe out there.
I get into periods where I’m obsessed with songs. Right now, it’s “Spells” by Jenny Hval; I play it on repeat for an hour or so everyday. As soon as it ends, I want to hear it again, just to let it wash over me. Sometimes I’m thinking about the production or lyrics or instrumentation, but mostly I’m just existing inside it while I go about my day, like wearing a favorite sweater. When I’m in deep, I wonder when I will get tired and move on, but I can never remember that period of the cycle after it happens. The songs just fade away, and I lose them for awhile.
But they always come back—today I had an unbelievably strong urge to hear “Short Court Style” by Natalie Prass. This song is frozen in time to me—I’m eighteen, I’m going sixty five in Phoenix in my little sedan, the sun is blazing, the windows are down, I’m having the time of my life, I’m probably about to go grocery shopping. Something about being able to drive around and run errands has always made me feel like the best possible version of myself. I’ve heard various opinions about this mindset—I have capitalist brain rot, I’m addicted to productivity, I need to find purpose in being purposeless—but I like accomplishing things. “Short Court Style” floods me with that feeling, like I’m having a really good, fast-paced day. I played it so much, it broke into my top ten songs that year, then I didn’t intentionally listen to it at all for three. I remembered today why it’s excellent.
Natalie Prass cut her teeth touring with Jenny Lewis (as did Blake Mills and Danielle Haim, which begs the question, how is Jenny Lewis finding all this star talent? But that’s for another issue). She toured for a year and even played Fallon with Lewis after auditioning via an iPhone recording. Since then, she’s moved on to producing solo work with her childhood bandmate Matthew E. White. Her first album, Natalie Prass (2015), is largely ballads peppered with horn and string arrangements, like “My Baby Don’t Understand Me” and “Violently.” At times it borders on theatrical; Prass’ voice is sweet as can be, maintaining some of its Nashville twain even in song. Her second record shifts into late 70s nostalgia, with punchy guitar lines and little “woo!” moments in the chorus. The record deals largely in synthesizers and electric guitars which Prass’ saccharine vocal lines layer onto. She explores lush vocal harmonies and poetically indirect lyrics on this album, to fill the space where the strings and horns once were; Motown is a more direct influence than Barbra Streisand in her recent songwriting and style. The only real bridge between the two albums is Prass’ distinctive voice, floating lightly over the other elements.
“Make Me Feel” also appeared on my Best of 2018 list, in the third spot. It’s perhaps the horniest song to ever grace an issue of Record Store—I’m writing about Prince soon, so not for long—and it made waves in pop music when it was released. Janelle Monae has always pushed boundaries, from her refusal of genre to her embrace of sexuality in her public image. She’s a producer, the CEO of her own label, and an actress in the critically acclaimed films Moonlight (2016) and Hidden Figures (2016). Sometimes she even blurs the lines of self; she often presents as an alter-ego named Cindi Mayweather, the android messiah of the fictional city Metropolis. Bear with me.
Speaking of Prince, Janelle Monae was one of his protégées; he was working on Dirty Computer (2018) before he died. Her sound is deeply shaped by him, both as a musician and as a cultural icon. She chose to shed the Cindi Mayweather persona for the latest record, although stepping out from behind her shadow was not an easy decision. In doing so, she became a beacon for queer, Black young people struggling with their identities. The social commentary of the accompanying short film is biting; Monae stars as a “dirty computer” being scrubbed of memories by white technicians, falling in love with a male and a female partner, with whom she escapes captivity. The whole project, in its many dimensions, encompasses a new era for Janelle Monae, one in which she speaks her truth plainly.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Janelle Monae’s expression of sensual joy was inspired by Donna Lewis’ “I Love You Always Forever”:
Feels like I'm standing in a timeless dream
Of light mist, of pale amber rose
Feels like I'm lost in a deep cloud of heavenly scent
Touching, discovering you
The original is good, but somehow the Betty Who cover is better; the electronic drums and sharp production style add an element of suspense to the song. The most exciting moments are the ones in which there is no sound at all, those brief moments of silence and space that almost smoke with anticipation. It’s three and a half minutes of pure adrenaline. I recently started a playlist of songs that make me feel insane, and this one makes the cut.
My favorite moment happens at the three minute mark: a break in instrumentation, an additional line of upper harmony, a repeated motif made just that much better by the reduction of key elements. As the song comes back full force into the chorus, it feels like the drop on a rollercoaster—hold on tight.
I hope you’re feeling better!
Great list as always. There’s a 100% chance that’ll have catch myself singing the chorus to “The Sound” at some point today. Lol.