ALBUM REVIEWS
Digital disruption has created a music business that’s sustained by saturation, producing a culture of abundance blurring into excess. Lengthy albums capitalize on this wholesale demand for more by bloating tracklists, which in turn jacks up streaming numbers. At first glance, Culture III, the latest 19-track offering from superstar rap group Migos, appears to be another overlong playlist disguised as a studio album, much like their underwhelming 2018 release Culture II.
Culture III is not Culture II, though. It’s shorter by 30 minutes, with six fewer songs. But what truly distinguishes the two is mindfulness. The Lawrenceville, Georgia trio are conscious of their assignment to execute this time around. Quavo, the oldest of the three, owns the facilitator position; like a quarterback, he gives each record motion, movement, and keeps the group centered. Offset, who is younger by eight months, is the playmaker, using each appearance to showcase a gift for flipping flows and turning phrases. Takeoff, the youngest, is the utilitarian, a rapper’s rapper whose verses consistently hit the bullseye.
Playing these roles and doing so consistently is how Culture III surpasses the sequel, and lives up to the greatness of 2017’s brilliantly concise breakthrough Culture One could argue that every song has a different MVP. Drake ‘s appearance on “Having Our Way” has rightfully received the attention it warrants, but Takeoff’s closing verse is spectacular. The same can be said about “Vaccine,” where he rhymes with an effortless zeal across the Buddah Bless exquisite sampling of Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker, but that’s also the song where Offset blacks out with one of his most memorable performances.
Then there’s Quavo’s contagious melodies on “Picasso” and his infectious swagger on the intro, “Avalanche.” No matter the track, each record runs an offense that requires the three men. And every time they arrive with an inspired earnest. The audio equivalent of several people in the same room harmoniously speaking the same language. It’s the very synergy that was lacking throughout 2018 and 2019 when Migos were releasing a series of lackluster solo albums.
Across an hour and 15 minutes of music, Migos exhibit why they don’t work well as singular artists but can make great art when they utilize their collective charisma to create a singular voice. As Quavo sings on the Juice WLRD-featured “Antisocial,” “If we don’t stick together, we all lose.”
Culture III is about sticking together, playing to their strengths, and making sure the listener knows: Migos aren’t hurt, they aren’t tired, they’re young, they’re rich, they’re up. The album celebrates how even a global pandemic couldn’t stop their progress or their paper. It’s a winded celebration. They have a song for every kind of moment: From your birthday to buying burkins, southern brunches and halftime at the Super Bowl, music festivals and intimate concerts. A collection of songs that ultimately sound like the antithesis of lockdowns and social distancing.
This is music for the return of festivals, the return of freaknik, the return of the fun, everything missed indoors last year. You’re not supposed to play this in your room, or amongst your friends over Zoom. It’s music for gatherings — going out, turning up, living our best life. Migos have provided a musical carnival for a world that’s ready to go back outside.
ALBUM REVIEWS
Grandeur sits at the heart of ‘This Music May Contain Hope’, RAYE’s second album, and the result feels nothing short of breathtaking. On this record, the singer born Rachel Keen explores a wide spectrum of sounds across its 73 minute length, moving from emotional ballads to lively funk moments and the jazz pop style she has become closely associated with. It can feel overwhelming at first, yet the magic that comes from RAYE fully committing to her vision makes the experience rewarding from start to finish.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’, a conceptual project about pushing through insecurity and heartbreak, unfolds like a lavish stage production. RAYE takes on the dual role of main character and guiding voice throughout the story. “Allow me to set the scene. Our story begins at 2:27am on a rainy night in Paris. Cue the thunder,” she says during the opening track ‘Girl Under The Grey Cloud’, which arrives with sweeping orchestral strings. Spoken passages appear across the album, helping shape the narrative and giving the project a sense of direction, almost like hearing the official recording of a Broadway show.
With this framework in place, the South London artist allows herself to fully explore the album’s diverse musical palette, and most of the time it works in her favor. Sometimes she fully embraces the theatrical side of the concept, especially during the closing section of the smooth R&B track ‘The WhatsApp Shakespeare’. Other moments are delivered more straightforwardly, such as the emotional slow building ballad ‘I Know You’re Hurting’. She also revisits her earlier dance influences with the impressive house track ‘Life Boat’.
Across the entire album, two things stand out clearly. RAYE’s flexible vocals sound better than ever, and her songwriting feels sharper than it has before. Take the playful highlight ‘I Hate The Way I Look Today’, a swing jazz inspired track reminiscent of Ella Fitzgerald, where she admits “I’m okay to be lonely / If I’m lonely and skinny / I have such silly self-loathing thoughts, it seems”. Then there is the emotional storytelling in ‘Nightingale Lane’: “It was right there, early June / Next to Old Park Avenue / Standing in the rain, I watched him walk away”.
Despite all the vulnerability and emotional struggles explored throughout the record, RAYE ultimately reaches a place of optimism, staying true to the album’s title. She gathers her close friends on ‘Click Clack Symphony’ with support from Hans Zimmer, finds closure with guidance from Al Green on the smooth seventies soul inspired ‘Goodbye Henry’, and reaches toward something greater alongside her sisters Amma and Absolutely on the uplifting ‘Joy’ as she searches to be “free of all the pain and every fear”. After the stormy opening imagery of that “rainy night” and “thunder”, RAYE eventually realizes that “the sun exists behind the clouds”, as she shares on ‘Happier Times Ahead’.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’ shows RAYE performing at her absolute peak. The album feels huge in scale and emotionally powerful, yet it remains rooted in honest experiences and real feelings. Yes, it asks a lot from the listener, but that is also what makes it so special. Every dramatic moment and musical shift feels like RAYE claiming her independence and finally creating music entirely on her own terms.
