War on Drugs (Music Group)

Subterms

    Latest story

    150 Shares149 Views

    The War on Drugs Can’t Stop Searching for Answers in the Music

    by

    Fatherhood reshaped the frontman Adam Granduciel’s world, and a collaborative spirit animated the band on its fifth album, “I Don’t Live Here Anymore.”The first time Adam Granduciel hinted at a possible career change, he tossed it off as a humorous aside. “Basically my whole family are educators,” he said in a video interview last month from his Los Angeles home. “Perhaps it is also my destiny. Who knows?”The second time — a week later, calling from a parked car outside the warehouse where he had been rehearsing with his bandmates — he dug deeper. Casually dressed in a black tee and backward cap, squinting into the California sunshine, he wearily, ambivalently talked through some recent misgivings about his life as a working musician: “I just wonder, how many more records am I going to make? Like, is this the last record?” It was a thought exercise more than a declaration of intent, but striking to hear from a presumed lifer at the top of his game.By conventional measures, Granduciel — the 42-year-old frontman and primary creative force behind the War on Drugs, a once-scrappy indie band that he started in Philadelphia in 2005 — is a modern-day rock star. During a period in which rock has shifted toward the margins of popular music, his group has reached improbable heights with meticulously crafted, guitar-forward songs, over time trading their textural, rootsy soundscapes for something more structured and straight-ahead. In the process, it’s landed multiple records in the top quarter of the Billboard 200, signed to a major label and won a Grammy, for the 2017 album “A Deeper Understanding.” Come January, the band will headline Madison Square Garden — these days, a privilege largely reserved for pop singers and legacy acts.Considering that upcoming notch in his belt, a bemused Granduciel invoked fate: “Even from early on, people would always say that our music belonged in bigger places. So that’s like, the ultimate big place.”But for all his achievements, Granduciel remains far more motivated by his craft than by external validation. A notoriously obsessive creative, he’s keener to tinker in the privacy of the studio than to bask in the spotlight. And lately, he’s been preoccupied by something even more important than music-making: his 2-year-old son, Bruce.Hence, the misgivings. “My dad was pretty much home every day. He’d go to work and come home, and I would like to deliver that same consistency,” Granduciel said. He’s been thinking about how to balance the obligations of parenting with the demands of making records and touring. Bruce’s car seat was visible in the Zoom frame as his father wondered aloud, “What am I going to pass down?”The topic of inheritance surfaces on the War on Drugs’ fifth album, “I Don’t Live Here Anymore,” due Oct. 29. “Workin’ my whole life/To follow my father’s dream/Then watch it fade away,” Granduciel sings on “Old Skin,” a somber piano ballad that U-turns into a full-band stomper, adding oomph to the singer’s existential musings. He picks the thread back up on the winding “Rings Around My Father’s Eyes,” singing about filial bonds and the passage of time.Like his previous albums, “I Don’t Live Here Anymore” makes legible Granduciel’s love for 1970s and ’80s rock — the searching, synth-varnished sort made by his heroes Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan — though his ambitions are far bigger than merely evoking his influences, and he chafes at the suggestion that his music is “retro.”“He’s using elements of nostalgia to create a very emotional type of music,” said Shawn Everett, who co-produced the record alongside Granduciel after earning his trust as a recording engineer on “A Deeper Understanding.”“I think I need this life to actually be content,” Granduciel said.Magdalena Wosinska for The New York TimesThe emotional contours of Granduciel’s music have become clearer as his songwriting, over the years, has grown more direct and accessible. As on previous records, strife is etched into the lyrics — but now, with Granduciel’s voice summoned to the front of the mix, it’s more resonant. He still leans heavily on a few preferred signifiers — roads, rivers, wind, darkness — but deploys a more conspicuous first person and draws more readily from personal experience than he did early on in the band’s career.“I tend to write from the place that gives me the most inspiration, which is just feeling melancholy,” Granduciel said, noting his lifelong struggle with depression. “For the most part, I’m still in the process of learning how to be happy.”“I Don’t Live Here Anymore” is not, however, an album of downers. “Harmonia’s Dream,” named for the cult-favorite krautrock group, hurtles like a flat-out race against self-doubt (“Am I losing my faith?/We’re gonna lose it in time!”). And with its seismic chorus, booming percussion, gospel-y harmonies and life-affirming thesis, the title track has the makings of one achievement that the band has not yet nabbed: a hit single.“It’s kind of a pop song,” noted Jess Wolfe of the folk-pop group Lucius in a phone call from Nashville. Along with her bandmate Holly Laessig, she sang backup on the track. “I remember feeling like it was ringing in my head for days” after leaving the studio, she added.Baby Bruce (named for Springsteen) had a profound impact on “I Don’t Live Here Anymore,” logistically as well as thematically. While working on previous records, Granduciel sometimes languished in the studio into the small hours of the morning. During sessions after his son was born, he made a point of being home for 5 p.m. bath time, and tried to wrap up work by 9 or 10 to be fresh for the morning parenting shift. He grinned while describing his daily routine with Bruce: They sit together on the stoop, he drinks coffee and Bruce has his breakfast.If that sounds like the antithesis of a rock-star lifestyle, Granduciel doesn’t mind. He feels “zero connection” to fame, and emphasized the normalcy and anonymity of his day-to-day life. Still, Granduciel’s proximity to celebrity was apparent when, in the week in between our conversations, he briefly became a tabloid item amid reports that he and Bruce’s mother, the actress Krysten Ritter, had split. (He denied these and declined to elaborate.)Cutting back on studio time made Granduciel fear that he wasn’t “going deep” enough on the record. It helped that he could compare notes with Everett, also a new father, and a fellow workhorse whom he initially sought out after reading about the “extreme recording techniques” (Everett’s description) that he used while making “Sound & Color,” Alabama Shakes’ album from 2015.Throughout our conversations, Granduciel — seemingly aware of his reputation as a sovereign bandleader, and perhaps eager to decenter himself — pointedly called out the contributions of his various collaborators. Robbie Bennett, who has played piano with the band since 2010, wrote the hook for “I Don’t Live Here Anymore”; Anthony LaMarca, who plays guitar in the touring lineup, was responsible for “iconic drum fills” that gave the record’s earliest demos body. Remote recording, necessitated by the pandemic, allowed Granduciel’s bandmates to work and brainstorm on their own schedules, producing what he called “spirited” results.Though increasingly comfortable with his leadership skills, Granduciel seems uninterested in climbing past middle management. He has a record label of his own — Super High Quality Records, on which he released a live album last year — but no plans to use it for anything other than one-off side projects. “I Don’t Live Here Anymore” fulfills his two-record contract with Atlantic, and while he hasn’t re-signed with the label yet, he would if asked. “I’ve always been a good employee,” he said. “I don’t really have an interest in being the record-maker and the business all in one.”And despite Granduciel’s musings on setting his guitar down and walking away, he said he feels called to the music: “I think I need this life to actually be content.”He turned, as he often does, to one of his rock forebears. “It’s like Robbie Robertson said,” he said, quoting the Band’s frontman. “‘It’s a goddamn impossible way of life.’” More

    More stories

    • 175 Shares99 Views

      in Music

      A Rare Look at Bob Dylan in the Studio, and 13 More New Songs

      by

      Hear tracks by Tems, Adia Victoria, Cuco and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.Bob Dylan, ‘Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight (Version 2)’“Don’t Fall Apart on Me Tonight (Version 2)” is from the latest deep dive into the Bob Dylan archives, the five-CD “Springtime in New York: The Bootleg Series Vol. 16 1980-1985.” The track is similar in feel — though full of Dylan’s improvisatory variations — to the take that appeared on “Infidels” in 1983, with a new mix that dials back the unfortunate 1980s drum sound. Dylan had a superb studio band, with the Jamaican team of Sly (Dunbar) and Robbie (Skakespeare) on drums and bass, and a conversational interplay between Mick Taylor (formerly of the Rolling Stones) on slide guitar and Mark Knopfler (of Dire Straits) on electric guitar. It’s not the most radical discovery in the set — which also includes rarities like “Enough Is Enough” and “Yes Sir, No Sir” — but it arrives with live footage of the sessions, a rare glimpse of Dylan in motion in the studio. JON PARELESThe War on Drugs featuring Lucius, ‘I Don’t Live Here Anymore’The War on Drugs trades psychedelic haze for 1980s heft in “I Don’t Live Here Anymore.” Adam Granduciel sings about coming to terms with the past, breaking up, letting go and moving on, deciding — with the voices of Lucius as a choir — “We’re all just walking through this darkness on our own.” Deploying neat, reverberating guitar and synthesizer hooks like Don Henley’s “Boys of Summer,” the song is a booming march toward a willed recovery. PARELESTems featuring Brent Faiyaz, ‘Found’This stellar duet between the young Nigerian singer Tems and the R&B crooner Brent Faiyaz is saturated with an easy melancholy. On the song from Tems’s new EP, “If Orange Was a Place,” she sounds anxious and unraveled: “I feel I might just be coming undone/Tell me why you can’t be found.” When Faiyaz arrives, he’s alternately soothing and cloying. “Found” has echoes of SZA’s insular angst, and also the robust, earthen texture of mid-1990s R&B. It’s utterly swell. JON CARAMANICACarly Pearce and Ashley McBryde, ‘Never Wanted to Be That Girl’A stoic and affecting back and forth between Carly Pearce and Ashley McBryde, both coming to the realization that they have a man in common. It’s a timeless trope, and an effective one — neither one attempts to out-sing the other, a gesture of their shared frustration (unlike in, say, Reba McEntire’s blistering 1990s duets with Linda Davis, which delved into throat warfare). CARAMANICAAdia Victoria, ‘Mean-Hearted Woman’After dabbling in electronic textures with her 2019 album, “Silences,” Adia Victoria circles back, at least partway, toward bluesy roots-rock on her new album, “A Southern Gothic.” Its songs deal with power, mortality and, in “Mean-Hearted Woman,” heartbreak and revenge. Lingering on one chord, with a plucked guitar and a persistent tambourine, she sings about being dumped and replaced, and while her voice stays quiet and breathy, she moves bewilderment and heartache to fury, with a death threat that’s no less menacing for staying quiet. PARELESCuco, ‘Under the Sun’“Under the Sun” is a shape-shifting statement about the journey to self. Cuco immerses us in interdimensional psych rock, only to quickly shift to a cumbia interlude, and then to a wave of lightning guitar licks. In the video, he leaves a lit candle at an altar featuring the artwork for his 2019 album “Para Mi.” Consider this a new era, one where all bets are off. ISABELIA HERRERASnail Mail, ‘Valentine’“Why’d you want to erase me?” Lindsey Jordan — the songwriter behind Snail Mail — yowls in “Valentine.” It’s a song about affection, obsession, estrangement, jealousy and bewilderment, with tempestuous quiet-LOUD-quiet indie-rock dynamics that mirror a passionate, messy, still unresolved relationship. PARELESMoor Mother, ‘Rogue Waves’For years, it has felt painfully imprecise to slap the “hip-hop” label onto the music of Camae Ayewa, a poet, electronic musician and Afrofuturist who performs as Moor Mother. (Not that that’s stopped streaming services and other grid jockeys from trying.) But two confluent things have been happening recently: Ayewa is embracing lower-slung, more head-nodding beats, and hip-hop itself is becoming a spacier, gooier, more abstract zone. The new Moor Mother album, “Black Encyclopedia of the Air,” features guest spots from rising rappers and vocalists, like Pink Siifu and Orion Sun, on most tracks. But on “Rogue Waves,” over a hydraulic swinging beat, Ayewa goes it alone — confronting subject matter that’s sometimes abstract and evocative, elsewhere tender and intimate. GIOVANNI RUSSONELLOCraig Taborn, ’60xsixty’In the same week that he announced his first solo album in 10 years (coming Oct. 8), the pianist Craig Taborn released another collection of music that’s similar in nature, but not quite the same. “60xsixty” contains 60 restive and fleeting pieces, all about a minute each, that play back-to-back at 60xsixty.com in a randomized order that’s different each time you visit the site. You’re unable to pause or skip: The listener’s usual sense of control is stripped away, as is the very notion of a finished product — Taborn has said he may swap out some tracks for new ones in the future, keeping the total number at 60. The current range of tracks varies from 12-tone-scale improvisations on acoustic piano to the kind of squelchy, three-dimensional electronic music that Taborn makes with his project Junk Magic. On other tracks, he’s most concerned with stirring up ambient sound. RUSSONELLOOneohtrix Point Never and Elizabeth Fraser, ‘Tales From the Trash Stratum’Leave it to Oneohtrix Point Never and the Cocteau Twins vocalist Elizabeth Fraser to craft the ultimate experiment in glossolalia. “Tales From the Trash Stratum” runs like a New Age seminar on mushrooms: OPN collages glitchy arpeggios, synth crashes and delicate piano keys; Fraser’s echoed sighs and angel-dust melodies flicker in and out of the production. It’s a blast of neurological delirium and decay, rendered as soothingly as possible. HERRERAAmaarae featuring Kali Uchis, ‘Sad Girlz Luv Money (Official Remix)’Last year, the Ghanaian American artist Amaarae quietly released “The Angel You Don’t Know,” an imaginative, buoyant album that masterfully harnessed all kinds of Afro-diasporic sounds, including R&B, Southern rap and Nigerian highlife. “Sad Girlz Luv Money” was an immediate standout: a breezy Afropop anthem for midnight trysts. On the official remix, the Colombian American singer Kali Uchis whispers hushed, silky come-ons in Spanish, and Amaarae’s sky-high melodies and smoky raps curl over the beat. HERRERALindsey Buckingham, ‘Swan Song’A frenetic drum loop, like a pummeled punching bag, drives “Swan Song” from Lindsey Buckingham’s new, self-titled album, recorded solo in the studio and released after his severance from Fleetwood Mac and emergency triple-bypass surgery. The mix feels inside-out, with his voice enclosed by percussion while his flamenco-tinged acoustic guitar and wailing electric guitar both poke outward. He taunts mortality — “She says it’s late, but the future’s looking bright”— with fast fingers. PARELESIann Dior featuring Lil Uzi Vert, ‘V12’What a dreamily beautiful song from Iann Dior, a sweet-sounding sing-rapper with just the faintest of barbed edges, and Lil Uzi Vert. Together, they’re boastful and playful, and yet the production has an elegiac edge, as if sadness were an inevitable byproduct of success. CARAMANICAOuri, ‘Chains’Ouri — the Montreal composer and electronic producer Ourielle Auvé — sketches a track being assembled and tweaked on the spot with “Chains,” from her album “Frame of a Fauna,” due Oct. 22. She dials in swooping sounds, echoey vocal syllables, a glitchy beat, tentative chords; the dance beat solidifies, falls away and reappears, briefly locking into syncopation with wordless vocal syncopations before evaporating. The video shows Ouri concocting a CGI dancer who leaps out as flesh and blood: virtual efforts turning physical. PARELES More

    • 163 Shares139 Views

      in Music

      Lil Nas X and Jack Harlow’s Prison Break, and 13 More New Songs

      by

      Hear tracks by Remi Wolf, Camila Cabello, the War on Drugs and others.Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos. Just want the music? Listen to the Playlist on Spotify here (or find our profile: nytimes). Like what you hear? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com and sign up for our Louder newsletter, a once-a-week blast of our pop music coverage.Lil Nas X featuring Jack Harlow, ‘Industry Baby’Lil Nas X continues his victory lap around a world of his own making on the triumphant “Industry Baby” with Jack Harlow, featuring appropriately brassy production from Take A Daytrip and Kanye West and a video in which the duo busts out of Montero State Prison. “Funny how you said it was the end, then I went and did it again,” he sings, his braggadocio packing extra bite since it’s directed not just at generic haters but pearl-clutching homophobes. (“I’m queer,” he proclaims proudly, in case there was any confusion there.) The wild video’s most talked-about set piece will probably be the joyous dance scene in the prison showers, but its most hilarious moment comes when Lil Nas X catches a guard enjoying the video for his previous single “Montero (Call Me By Your Name).” LINDSAY ZOLADZRemi Wolf, ‘Liquor Store’“Liquor Store” (and its “Pee-wee’s Playhouse” meets Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” music video) is a perfect introduction to the neon-Brite imagination of Remi Wolf, a charismatic 25-year-old pop singer from California. The song is a catchall repository of Wolf’s anxieties about sobriety and long-term commitment, but she tackles these subjects with such idiosyncratic playfulness that it all goes down smoothly. ZOLADZCamila Cabello, ‘Don’t Go Yet’Fifth Harmony’s original defector Camila Cabello returns with the fun, exuberant first single from her upcoming album, “Familia.” Cabello leans harder than ever into her Latin-pop roots here, but there’s also a sassy rasp to her vocals that brings Doja Cat to mind. “Baby don’t go yet ’cause I wore this dress for a little drama,” she sings, and the song’s bright, bold flair certainly matches that sartorial choice. ZOLADZAlewya, ‘Spirit_X’Alewya, a songwriter with Ethiopian and Egyptian roots who’s based in England, has been releasing singles that rely on a breathless momentum. “Spirit_X” has a defiant, positive message — “I won’t let me down” — expressed in terse lines that hint at African modal melodies, paced by looping synthesizers and a double time breakbeat. She makes a virtue of sounding driven. JON PARELESKamo Mphela, ‘Thula Thula’Amapiano music is sparse and fluid, representing the hypnotic elasticity that is baked into South African dance music, simmering the textures and drums of jazz, R&B and local dance styles like kwaito and Bacardi house into a slow, liquid groove. “Thula Thula,” a new single from the genre’s queen Kamo Mphela, captures the hushed energy of the genre: a shaker trembles alongside a sinister bass line and a rush of drums claps under the surface. Mphela offers a summertime invitation to the dance floor, but the track’s restrained tempo is a reminder that the return to nightlife is a marathon, not a sprint. ISABELIA HERRERALorde, ‘Stoned at the Nail Salon’Lorde has always been an old soul; when she first arrived as a precocious 16-year-old in 2013, there was even a popular internet conspiracy theory that she was only pretending to be a teenager. Although she’s still just 24, Lorde sounds prematurely weary on her new single “Stoned at the Nail Salon,” from her forthcoming third album “Solar Power.” “My hot blood’s been burning for so many summers now, it’s time to cool it down,” she sings atop a muted chord progression that bears a striking resemblance to Lana Del Rey’s “Wild at Heart,” another recent Jack Antonoff production. The mellifluous “Stoned” flirts with profundity but then suddenly hedges its bets — “maybe I’m just stoned at the nail salon,” she shrugs in each chorus — which gives the song a hesitant, meandering quality. But perhaps the most puzzling declaration she makes is how “all of the music you loved at 16 you’ll grow out of.” Is this perhaps a self-deprecating wink at her own past, or a gentle hint that her new album might be a departure from what her fans have been expecting? ZOLADZIlluminati Hotties, ‘U V V P’As Illuminati Hotties, Sarah Tudzin has been rolling out deliriously catchy, high-octane summer jams for the past few months, like the incredibly titled “Mmmoooaaaaayaya” and the effervescent “Pool Hopping.” Her latest preview of her forthcoming album “Let Me Do One More,” though, slows things down considerably. “Every time I hear a song, I think about you dancing,” she swoons on “U V V P,” buoyed by a beachy beat. Late in the song, a spoken-word contribution from Big Thief’s Buck Meek transforms the vibe from a ’60s girl-group throwback to a lonesome country ditty, as if the versatile Tudzin is proving there’s no genre she can’t make her own. ZOLADZIndigo De Souza, ‘Hold U’Sometimes a song only needs to communicate the most honest and heartfelt emotions to work. That is the spirit of Indigo de Souza’s “Hold U.” There’s a splatter of programmed drums; a jangly, soulful bass line; and the melted caramel of de Souza’s voice, which gushes with simple lyrics (“You are the best thing, and I’ve got it, I’ve got you”) and blooms into a falsetto, her sky-high oohs curling into the air. It is a love song, but it’s not just about romance — “Hold U” is about living fully with your emotions, and embracing the love that emerges from being in community, too. HERRERABrandi Carlile, ‘Right on Time’Piano ballad turns to power ballad in “Right on Time,” an apology that rises to a near-operatic peak as Brandi Carlile acknowledges, “It wasn’t right.” It’s clearly a successor to “The Joke,” but this time, she’s not helping someone else; she’s facing the consequences of her own mistakes. PARELESThe War on Drugs, ‘Living Proof’The War on Drugs reaches back to the late-1960s era when folk-rock, drone and psychedelia overlapped, when the Velvet Underground and the Grateful Dead weren’t that far apart. But it’s self-conscious retrospection, aware of what’s changed in a half-century. “Living Proof” lays bare that awareness. “I know the path/I know it’s changing,” Adam Granduciel sings, as he returns to an old neighborhood and finds it’s not what he remembered. “Maybe I’ve been gone too long,” he reflects. The song has two parts: feathery acoustic guitar strumming and piano chords and then, at the end, a subdued march, as Granduciel declares, “I’m rising, and I’m damaged.” PARELESJordyn Simone, ‘Burn’An old-fashioned soul song is at the core of “Burn”: an invitation to “stay the night” that escalates toward despair — “There’s no hope for people like me” — and fury, as Jordyn Simone declares, “I didn’t ask for no goddamn savior.” Simone, 21, was a strong enough singer to be a teenage contestant on “The Voice,” and in “Burn” her vocal builds from a velvety tremulousness to flashes of a bitter rasp. Meanwhile, the production’s lugubrious strings and club-level bass open up new chasms beneath her. PARELESWilliam Parker, ‘Painters Winter’ and ‘Mayan Space Station’The bassist, organizer and free-jazz eminence William Parker released two albums with separate trios on Friday: “Painters Winter,” featuring the drummer Hamid Drake and the saxophonist and multi-instrumentalist Daniel Carter, and “Mayan Space Station,” a sizzling free-fusion workout, with the guitarist Ava Mendoza curling out surf-rock lines and conjuring spacey fuzz while the drummer Gerald Cleaver drives the group steadily on. Together the LPs give an inkling of how broad Parker’s creative footprint has been on New York jazz. For a fuller measure, look to the 25th annual Vision Festival, happening now through next week in Manhattan and Brooklyn; he helped found the festival a quarter-century ago with the dancer and organizer Patricia Nicholson Parker, his wife. At 69, he hasn’t slowed down: Parker is slated to perform in no fewer than five different ensembles over the course of this year’s festival. RUSSONELLOKippie Moeketsi and Hal Singer, ‘Blue Stompin’’The alto saxophonist Kippie Moeketsi was among the first to fit bebop’s musical language into South African jazz, but he didn’t import it whole cloth. He made the language sing rather than banter, and he played with a circular, spinning approach to rhythm — related to marabi and earlier South African styles — not the typical American sense of swing. On his unaccompanied intro to “Blue Stompin’,” Moeketsi leaps in with a sharp, bluesy cry, then nods toward a carnival-style rhythm before growling his way to the end of the cadenza. Then he locks into the main melody, playing in unison with the American tenor saxophonist Hal Singer, who wrote the tune. A former Duke Ellington Orchestra member who had scored some radio hits of his own as a jump-blues saxophonist, Singer was in South Africa in 1974 on a State Department tour when he recorded a few tracks with Moeketsi. Those became an album, originally released in South Africa in ’77; it has just been remastered and released digitally by the Canadian label We Are Busy Bodies. RUSSONELLO More