The Recommendation Suites, Vol.1/#1 - Station Model Violence "Station Model Violence"

The Recommendation Suites Vol. 1/#1

This series is culled from recommendations given to me by friends, family, acquaintances, coworkers, fellow music dorks and casual fans alike. The only really prerequisite I give when fielding these recommendations is that it must be from this calendar year. All genres are welcome in the Recommendation Suites.

The album: Station Model Violence – Station Model Violence

The recommender: Daniel Makabe. Guitar player. Retired Wrestling Genius. Coffee enjoyer. Past answerer of 5 Questions with Rags.

This album is, quite frankly, fucking relentless. It's energy frantic and kinetic. Station Model Violence moves and moves and moves but not in a way that I often move – the effect is at times dizzying, terrifying and exhilarating. Often all three at once.

These songs move so relentlessly. (Less than 50 words in and I've used “relentless” twice. It really is the word that my mind keeps coming back to on every listen.) There's a joyousness that leaks and eventually bursts from these songs, but it's joyous that quickly feels poisonous, almost suffocating, every time because there is it leaves so little room to breathe. Take “Two Eyes For An Eye” - almost dirge-like, the song chokes out the listener with a plodding, methodical momentum, droning vocals and the most nakedly violent lyrics on the record. Instead of that methodical momentum continuing up to rising action, everything just kind of falls away, like stepping off a cliff, with only pulsing, looping guitar noises suspending you in the air. (Falling off a cliff is a feeling that permeates this album. There's even a song called “Cliffs.”) At first this feels like a reprieve from the earlier terror, but it moves like an inescapable fog. And a hot, stifling fog at that, not one of those nice early morning fall fogs that refresh the lungs. This is just an example. Every reprieve from the assault on this record ends up feeling like poison right into the ear canal.

There are little bits of sound, sonic flourishes that delight my ears in amongst the endless, thumping rage of this record. The saxophone at the end of opening track “Learn To Hate” is falling onto a cloud at the end of a death drop off a cliff. (Hey, it's that damned cliff again!) The weird noises at the beginning and end of “Drip Away” - what the fuck am I hearing? Are they fucked up bagpipes? Is someone playing a saw? Is it just cool guitar pedals doing their sound-mutating thing?

I'm glad I haven't been trying to put this into whatever genre box it technically belongs in. I don't really know about sub-genres of music, especially in rock. I don't have the patience to learn and really don't care. All I know is what is good and what I like. Station Model Violence is a really fucking good album and I like it a lot. It feels like a possible masterpiece of whatever genre it belongs on. The guitar tones are varied, piercing and excellent. The drumming is thunderous and very, very cool. I'm not entirely sure what's happening lyrically, but whatever is going on, it's brooding and passionate and affecting. I can't really tell you what these songs are ultimately about but there are numerous moments that catch me each listen. “I can taste the sun, I can taste the sun, I can taste the sun...” The guy singing kinda reminds me of Frank's mortician friend in Always Sunny In Philadelphia, so that's kinda fun too.

This isn't music I'd probably ever hear – let alone listen to multiple times through – if left to my own devices. Getting acquainted with Station Model Violence has felt very much like learning about, and ending up making friends with, someone you were kinda scared of when you first met. We might be on different paths, coming at life from very different ways, but we're cool now. “What? Who? Station Model Violence? That's the homie.”

I don’t think the vocalist in Station Model Violence has as dry a mouth as this guy though.

BURNT starts 2021 strong with "Reaching for the Sun"

It didn't take long – just one day, with a January 1 release – for the first really interesting album of 2021 to hit the galactic frequencies, as BURNT started off the year with their sprawling opus Reaching for the Sun. If you like reggae, any flavour of reggae - roots, dub, ska - this is an album you need to get into your ears. If you're just a passing fan of the music - the spirit and soul, the vibes - then you also need to get his into your ear canals. Reaching for the Sun is a spiralling, lovely journey into the heart and soul of reggae, created by a group of humans that clearly have nothing but genuine love in their hearts for the music. Oh, and the serious musical chops required to bring their ideas to a crystallized fruition.

This album is a big one, especially for me personally, as this album has pulled me back towards inspiration, back to writing. Like many people reading this, the past year pulled me away from many of the things I've personally loved. The inspiration to do these small but necessary things had just slowly dwindled away and when the flicker of inspirado would linger, the energy was rarely there to match. But Reaching for the Sun got into my bloodstream and lit something inside me almost instantly. Even though BURNT has been on my radar for sometime, I knew this was the moment I had to reach out and make contact with these groovy humans. Using the magic of conference calling, we talked about all manner of things including the creation of Reaching for the Sun. (Stay tuned for a huge installment of 5 Questions with Rags featuring BURNT. Coming very soon.)

That Reaching for the Sun is positively overflowing with such smooth grooves and was created in the midst of global pandemic is more than a feat. It's one thing for a DJ or rapper to be able to create in this environment, but for a large group of players so synonymous with live performance and recording, this is a genuine achievement. And to release an album – a unified piece of art – of such length in an age when a lot of music is seemingly created to be consumed as singles, is a refreshingly bold move.

“I think once we got sent home now it was like 'We have all the time to do this, but how are we going to make the album work if we can't be together?'” explains Jamal, producer and player of both sax and keys. “We didn't really have a plan for anything. I also think that honestly had we been able to get together to do an album the way we normally do, we probably wouldn't have had as many songs as we did.”

The challenges of making a record with a full band that can't be in each others' presence are clear and many, but it's the immediacy of the creation process that gave some of the biggest challenges while creating the record. “You put a part down and you send it, you have to wait to hear back if it works or if it doesn't, whereas if you're all together you can lay something down and know right away if it's gold or if it's shit,” says Burnt bassist Karthik. Producer and player of both sax and keys, Jamal adds, “The magic part about doing it live and with everyone there, is being able to see everyone's initial first reaction. When everybody fucking lights up at the same time. 'That's the take! That's the one!' That reaction is invaluable and no matter how good you are at communicating, you can't replace that.”

The long recording process, exacerbated by the separation, changed the process so much, that Burnt ended up with their most sprawling album to date, running over two-hours and 27 songs. “I think that doing this all from home – it slows the process down because each person has to do things one at a time. And when you slow things down you just keep coming up with more shit to throw on the pile,” explains Jamal. “Had we all gotten together, we could have banged out 12 songs in a month and half and that would have been the album. But because we kept coming up with good ideas before the other songs were finished, it felt like we couldn't really throw them out. It didn't feel like there were any filler songs we could throw out.”

Hard to believe that at over two hours there isn't any filler littering the sonic landscapes of Reaching for the Sun, but as someone who has listened to the album more than a few times, I can confirm that Burnt has pulled off the feat of a seriously bounding, filler-free record. And even on such a jam-packed record, there are songs that leap out of the speakers and grab the ears attention, reggae-lover or no. “Moscas” is a slow-burning jam that weaves it's way down to the ear drum. “That one is just super raw and I would say out of all the tracks on the album, one of the most authentically BURNT – To what the essence of what the band is and does. It came from a very organic place that no other band could have done,” says Jamal of the track. Karthik recalls the inspiration for the album, “Back in the day, in the San Diego desert, we used to record at Studio One in the Coachella Valley, and there was always a gang of flies in the studio. There was always fly paper and there's pictures of me around with two fly swatters, swatting the shit out of flies.”

“It’s hot as fuck, and it’s sweaty and there's moscas everywhere.” - Danny (Not pictured. See paragraph above.)

“Moscas” stands in stark contrast to – but somehow remains in the same spirit of – a song like the high-octane bounce-fest that is “Bolo The Kelp Rider.” An instrumental track that drives along with relentlessly fun momentum. Guitarist and vocalist Danny has vivid memories of the creation of “Bolo”: “Some of these tracks were kernels of songs that have been floating around with us for years. At some point we were up at Rob's place in Point Arena, which is on the coast about three hours north of San Francisco. Rob was telling me a story of this guy who hangs out down at the beach there, Schooner's Gultch – he's known to be seen shadow boxing with invisible enemies, and his weapon of choice is this giant bull-kelp whip. He drives a Cadillac down this dirt road, flying at a breakneck speed, knows every curve by the back of his hand and he's somehow able to just cross the Coast Highway – a very busy highway – miraculously in his Cadillac and skids into his parking spot at Schooner's Gultch, hops out and does his routine of shadow boxing with a giant bull kelp. I was enchanted by the story and after some adult beverages later, the bones for that song started to come out.”

Even though everyone in BURNT has their instruments and has a role, those roles are shifting and changing all the time. I found this out first hand when I asked drummer Rob about the big, heavy hip-hop banger, “Ablaze.” “As the drummer in the band, I didn't play drums on that track and I like the drums on it. That's the rest of the crew here doing that,” politely responds Rob to my direct question about the track. Jamal adds, “Because we were recording all separately, most of the tracks started with a drum loop or sequenced drums or something. Almost every track started like that and then we'd wipe the drums and Rob would play in. I think 'Ablaze' was one of the only ones that the vibe was already there and Rob was like, 'I don't need to do anything on this one, it's good to go.' There might have been two of those songs on the album.” Even though he didn't play on the track, Rob still looks at the track as a big one for the band. “That song is a powerful track. I feel like we wanted to release that in the summer. That song was pretty much done before 2020 occurred. November of 2019. All of a sudden that song got really relevant to me, so I'm glad it's out there in the universe.” The track is another testament to the power that a group of people can have both in creating art and spreading a message. One of the more powerful tracks on the album, “Ablaze” grabbed me right away just like the deep, almost sinister dub reggae of “Ganjamal Dub Revenge,” a track that builds and stomps its way to a towering crescendo featuring rhymes and flow of powerful Karmic Basis, MC and frequent BURNT collaborator. “Anger. Just fucking mad at the system. That's the feeling,” says Karmic Basis of the standout track. Personally, I wish I had of asked Karmic about “Twisty” because, upon retrospect, it's absolute fire – a perfect amalgamation of hip-hop and reggae that is going to make it onto any number of future playlists that I will be making.

The sunny vibes associated with reggae obviously buoy Reaching for the Sun, and nowhere is that ethos more evident than on a couple of other standouts “Frankie and Dobby” and “Moonglow.” The former a beautiful, slowly lilting love track that will probably steal a piece of each listener's heart. “That was a fun track to record on. I have a lot of basses – that's an understatement – throughout this process I had to figure out different basses to use for different songs, different amp settings and everything,” Karthik says of the beautiful ditty. Danny adds, “Karthik was very humble in his reponse here. The bass playing on that track really blew me away. Not just because it’s such a tasty groove, but because he really has so much chops as a musician but clearly worked hard to find and focus the pocket on that track. That’s a real thing for our musical evolution together.”

And then we come to “Moonglow,” a song that has been haunting BURNT long before the seeds of Reaching for the Sun were even created. “It's a song that's had three or four different versions. More than 5 years – I thought maybe it would be a single one day and it just never really came around. We were trying to revamp the old version, at some point Danny was like, 'We need to strip everything off of it.' So we stripped it down to literally just the guitar. Karthik redid the bass line for it. We wiped out the drums and Rob did drums on it. Even then I thought for awhile it was going to get cut. It was one of the last tracks to make the album and it was thanks to Miguel from Sublime who finally did the finishing touches of the guitars and some weirdo synth work that glued the whole thing together and brought the song to life. I'm so happy because honestly that's one of my favourite songs on the album and it was pretty damned close to not making it. Again,” says Jamal, to a big laugh from the rest of the band on the line.

I could go on and on here about every track on Reaching for the Sun, (For instance, keep your ears open for the gritty, hard-hitting “Shadows” and the warm reggae-hug that is “True Love Never Chain”) but why would I want to take away the experience of sitting down, lighting up your favourite herb or pouring a glass of your favourite drink, laying back and taking in the first incredible musical journey of 2021? If you've made it this far reading this piece, then you're probably already on the train, but if you haven't heard the album, or BURNT at all, you should go right now and get Reaching for the Sun spinning and ride down the sonic highway to auditory bliss.

Grab Reaching for the Sun from BURNT's bandcamp now! (Or stream on Spotify if that's your bag. But they're independent and buying music directly is ALWAYS a good way to support good homies and good art.)

Emotionz - Gems (Review)

EMOTIONZ - GEMS

A little hip-hop treasure, Gems is a warm, thoughtful and hella groovy record from Emotionz, one of Vancouver's mightiest MCs and keepers of the culture. Gems is a lovely example of old school hip-hop aesthetic and beats flavoured with just enough spice from the modern era to keep it tasting fresh and delicious. “Warm” is the word that can't leave my head anytime this record is on. The production is lush and rich, sliding along at a deeply restful and calming pace. Lyrically, Emotionz is concerned with the earthly, the human, the immediate. If albums had mission statements, I think a good, simple mission statement for Gems would be “Anti-Bling.” While I personally don't need or want all of my rap diet to be on this tip – or really even to be making any point at all really – right now, in early 2020, this is exactly what I (And my best guess is a quite a few others) need in my musical diet.

The album is a easy-grooving, endlessly pleasing listen. Soothing boom-bap beats, with hefty doses of soulful bass lines, sweet horns and drums that hit proper. Beginning to end, Gems is going to keep your head your head bobbing and your spirit feeling strong. If you haven't heard it I don't want to spoil too much, because like any piece of art, you should discover it on your own. I could point to any of the tracks on here and say, “If you like good, solid rapping on a positive steez, over classic beats that work the car or in a club (albeit, a really cool club – if such a thing exists), listen to this album,” so I'm going to do that and point out a couple of my favourites after more than a few listens through the album.

“Complications” bounces along on a sexy house beat that slides down the ear canal like warm audio-syrup. The track has Emotionz going in with lots of “tions” rhymes – which has made me realize how pleasant of a sound that “tion” sound can be to ears when utilized correctly. Combined with that groovy beat, the song is works as both earworm and hip-shaker. “Request Line” is an absolute staple of so many rap albums I grew up, with homie is rapping lovingly about all the rappers and pieces of hip-hop culture that inspired him. This kind of shit always makes me feel good because it's a nice reminder that people making rap are usually doing it because they're real fans. Just like us! Seriously though, this is in my lane. On an album that repeatedly proves Emotionz' seemingly bottomless capacity to write a verbal hook that gets into your brain, I don't think anything here accomplishes that like the slow-burning, chilled-out G-funk treasure, “Moments.” Emotionz' use of varied tempos and cadences on this one is pretty astonishing and when he gets to “Is you good?/Well alright/In my hood/We could ride/And we could/Go all night...” there's something that happens in the brain that commands full attention.

Gems is full of delights for fans of hip-hop that are looking for something fresh, but are missing a more old-school vibe, both in lyrical aim and in beatsmanship. It's definitely going to be an album to reach for as winter fades and the creeping warmth outside needs a soundtrack.

Something new for your ears - Clinton Fearon's "Goodness"

I pride myself on following a variety of genres and I dig musicians who experiment outside of their comfort zones. But I really dig and have an intense appreciation of my fellow music fans who dedicate themselves to one aesthetic or sound and know a ton about it or the musicians who do what they do, honing their craft, taking their time to create something beautiful and undiscovered in an already established framework. (I know that sentence was a long and maybe hard to follow, but please bear with me.) The artists that manage to do this consistently throughout their careers are few and far between. Even more rare is the reggae artist that manages this feat, as reggae is one of the most rigidly defined genres around and can sometimes hamper an artist's ability to sound fresh. With Goodness, the powerful Clinton Fearon - he of reggae legends The Gladiators - has proven himself to be among those few artists that continue to create music that sounds both old and new, that is at once familiar and invigorating.

Reggae historian and guy who changed the path of my writing, Roger Steffens said to me that reggae music is "the sound of the beating human heart at rest." It is music born out of struggle and pain, but rather than just reflect that pain reggae seeks to flip it upside down and destroy it. From darkness comes light. From the opening notes of "Blame Game" it's clear that Fearon is a protector of the light, of the good roots of well, roots reggae. When Fearon sings "Don't get stuck in the road, stuck in the road/Playing the Blame Game, that dirty old game," it is the sound of man with wisdom to impart. The result of a life lived thoroughly. Lyrically, Goodness is full of wisdom - each little bit delivered with the love and compassion of a loving grandfather. (Surely Fearon must be a frontrunner for World's Coolest Grandpa, if he has grandkids, of course. I can't confirm or deny this at the time of writing.) Even obvious tidbits of wisdom like "When you're feeling sad, talk with a friend" ("Talk With A Friend") come across like much-needed reminders to take warmth and love from the people and things right nearest to you. Like Fearon singing on the title track "Goodness, goodness, goodness, rising up slow...," this music doesn't need to move along at a frenetic pace to do what it needs to do.

But let's not forget, as it is music from born of struggle, reggae can't exist in any meaningful way if it doesn't address problems directly from time to time and the moments when Fearon does turn his eye to more social worldview are some of the most arresting here. The tale of poverty and subservience "Poor Nana" slinks along through the drudgery of unglamourous of unpaid labour. When Fearon sings "United we stand, divided we fall/Why can't we understand that life is for one and all?" his voice is wrought with both frustration and hope. "Come By Yah," is unwavering in its anti-power stance, even as it breezes along at a hopelessly breezy pace with Fearon strong in his peaceful resolve in the face of tyranny, "The people that in are control they seem to have no soul/To hold and keep them power they treat us way too cold/But we won't loose our mind, we won't be unkind/Dem a go run run run..."

Even with the tastily, simple, relatable lyrics, the music is the star here. Fearon wrote, composed and produced the record himself and Goodness sparkles for it. Fearon is a master craftsman, not jumping on trends and shifts in style but rather honing and perfecting his traditional music. The production is clean, with crisp drums holding the beat, walking basslines strolling all around the place and windy-guitar licks adding radiant splashes of colour. (Check out the liquidy guitar work on the burner, "The Hunter.") Fearon is proof that mastery is as important as experimentation, and that the best artists solidify the best parts of themselves as they age.  

BUY GOODNESS AND CHECK OUT CLINTON FEARON'S TOUR SCHEDULE HERE!