Infinite Playlist #2

1. Steve Lacy – “Gemini Rights” (2022)

As I’ve quickly discovered over the past few years, I’m not quick to pick up on the best new music. This isn’t to say that I wasn’t aware of “Bad Habit,” but it wasn’t until I saw it listed on a few Best Of lists that it began piquing my interest. What made me feel foolish is how long it took me to realize Steve Lacy was a member of Odd Future and The Internet, the former of which is a group that I have a strong affection for. I wouldn’t call their output flawless, but growing up in the early 2010s allowed me to see this strange group of rambunctious teens reinvent the music industry in their image. Sure, Lacy is not a household name like Tyler the Creator, Earl Sweatshirt, or Frank Ocean (or even Syd the Kid for that matter), but he is deserving of attention.

To put it simply, I fell in love after The Grammys and found his laidback throwback to 70s R&B to be so charming. I wanted to hear more and thankfully “Gemini Rights” is a brilliant dive into his imagination. From the opening song, you’re transported into the anguish of a bisexual male as he declares he’s tired of men. There’s something ethereal to his style, where the higher notes don’t sound forced. You really feel every emotion in his voice and I love the harmonies adding this fading echo to his more searing numbers. Of course, I really like “Bad Habit,” where his ability to use a defeated “my dear” carries this power.

With that said, “Mercury” is on another level impressive. I love how uptempo the backing vocals are, allowing him to journey into this tale of retrograde, recounting astronomy and the way it controls his emotions. It’s a theme that carries throughout the album as Lacy tries to find a balance between the two sides of him. What is discovered is a mix of anger and tenderness at odds with each other. The results are a beautifully raw, sincere album that never fades into novelty. Whereas other soft rock albums are quick to wear out their welcome, “Gemini Rights” is a great record that invites you to explore your own interiority and understand what it means to be in love in the 21st century. It can be ugly and unpleasant at times, but as Lacy’s vocals will suggest, sometimes the sacrifice leads to something beautiful.

2. Veruca Salt – “American Thighs” (1994)

Despite being alive throughout the entire 90s, there has always been something about the decade that feels disconnected from me. I was 10 by the time of Y2K and not old enough to really embrace the larger culture and trends that were riding high on MTV. I think there’s some subconscious guilt that I didn’t make the most of that time. It’s probably why I’m going through a heavy 90s phase, where I’m diving into records from different genres looking for stuff that speaks to me now, allowing me to access the feeling of the time from a safe distance. That also just so happens to include my first real dive into riot grrrl bands.

Like everyone else, I knew Veruca Salt mostly for “Seether.” It’s an infectious song that really lays on the sneer and sweet backing vocals. You buy the Gen-X cynicism in every note, where the women were proving that they could rock just as hard as the men. What I loved about diving into the record was how despite being sold on its nastiness that this is actually a very sweet record. The lyrics are often about the insecurities of being young and struggling to belong in the world. Stories detail their journey through life with the patented soft-loud approach that makes their music fit somewhere between the template. I especially love “Forsythia” for how it turns a flower analogy into peer pressure to feel connected to others.

At their best, they embody an attitude that makes for some infectious melodies. This is an impressively concrete album that consistently finds ways to surprise me. While I wasn’t as in love with their next album, their sound is confident and drives an interesting line between the grunge-induced sound with poppier hooks that proved even those outside the mainstream still have some affection for form. It allows for more sincerity and a chance to get down into deeper emotions. Even as Veruca Salt goes into some wild directions, they still have more heart than their contemporaries. They allow you to feel the humanity of the band, as if they’re a team working things out together. I know their later career is much more muddled in that vein, but their early work reflects that optimism and belief that rock was about to be an equal playing field. If there are more bands like Veruca Salta willing to add their name to the mix, then I’ll be more than willing to hear them out.

3. Naughty By Nature – “Naughty By Nature” (1991)

Honestly, digging into the crate of 90s hip-hop has been a mixed bag. On the one hand, you understand why a more conservative generation was against people like Ice Cube. Even 30 years later, you listen to his work and feel his anger. Still, it was an era so full of misogyny, homophobia, drug use, and violence. I recognize it as art and commentary (at least I hope it is), but there’s also the reality that gangsta rap in some form feels juvenile and limited compared to where the genre would go in the 21st century. It’s still provocative and in the hands of the best MC used very well, but those labeling it problematic have way too much ammo going for them.

With that said, there was one album in particular that was undeniable. I’ve been flipping through a handful, but landed on Naughty By Nature’s self-titled work after hearing “O.P.P.” on the radio for the umpteenth time. What I found within seconds of starting was a sound that amazed me. As the tracklist continued, I was in awe of what DJ Kay Gee was bringing to the table. As a straight-up party record, this one was undeniable. Given the gloomy weather in Southern California, it’s the type of music that kept me moving and wanting to do things. Add in the fact that Treach sounds like a helicopter when he raps and you have an album that at times made me giddy from its bravado.

What I love about this album is that it’s a group of musicians in their prime. They have every facet in check and are ready to unleash fury. There’s even social commentary mixed in. I also love that this album feels less self-conscious than their follow-up “19 Naughty III” (fun but uneven) and doesn’t feel like I need to compete with rap’s more stereotypical themes. What’s here on their self-titled is at times more impressive for how Treach catches the listener off guard with a rhyme that is downright hilarious. Sometimes it’s a very obvious diss while others are just this clever wink. The wordplay on here is so good and thankfully the energy matches. While most groups I’ve listened to have had great songs, I don’t think I’ve heard one in this recent run with as much consistency and playfulness. 

4. Hyd – “Clearing” (2022)

It has been way too long since I’ve heard a hyperpop album that has resonated a lot with me. I’m no expert on the genre, but I have quickly become a fan over the past few years following a transformative experience with Charli XCX’s “How I’m Feeling Now.” I love the glitchiness, the way that noise can build emotion. Discovering PC Music and A.G. Cook’s productions have been a worthwhile detour in my music listening experience. Sure, they’re not all as good as 100 Gecs, Slayyter, and Sophie, but finding that this is a realm of self-expression pushed to their fullest is in itself cathartic. It reinvented music so chaotically that I think it ended up tapping into something more genuine.

What’s interesting is that Hyd started as something more artificial with the one song wonder, QT’s “Hey QT.” There was a hyper-awareness of the artist as a product. I was worried that “Clearing” would fall closer to a feature length satire akin to stuff like GFOTY (fun but tedious). Instead, it’s somewhere closer to Hannah Diamond, which uses hyperpop less to scream into the fragmented void, but to recreate these beautiful melodies into poetic introspection. Hyd is such a quiet performer, always drawing the listener in as the vocals grow quieter. There is a freedom present from the opener “Trust,” which may feel subdued but has that A.G. Cook charm.

Later songs feature production from the late great Sophie, and you can miss her all over again. What makes this album feel special is that even if it’s one of the tamer sounding records I’ve heard off of PC Music, it manages to be one of their most clairvoyant. You feel the emotion in every experimentation. Songs like “Oil + Honey” takes the listener on a journey that is beautiful and tearful. This is a tender record that makes me curious to see where Hyd’s career goes. Then again, I may be quick to listen to some more hyperpop in the near future. There’s somebody called Namasenda who seems more conventional but has a fun vibe, and of course, there’s 100 Gecs. It’s always fun when “Hollywood Baby” comes up on Spotify. I can’t wait to hear the whole project. 

5. P.J. Harvey – “Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea” (2000)

To be completely honest, this spot could also be given to “Rid of Me” or “To Bring You My Love.” More than any artist on this list, I have been obsessively revisiting P.J. Harvey. There’s just something so fulfilling about putting on her music and listening to every aching scream, where her vocals recall every feminine emotion with the rawest passion imaginable. You are at times shocked, other times connected. The way her voice becomes part of the tapestry is the work of a genius, able to turn conflicts around her sexuality and religion into these atmospheric accomplishments. 

I think “Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea” stands out especially because it’s the side of Harvey that I maybe like best. As taboo as it may seem for fans of the early work, I think there’s something more impressive about her honing her craft and making it have this richer texture. It’s less guttural and uncomfortable. It even becomes spiritual by the end as she manages to turn the last song into this meditative journey into the soul. There’s so many corners to her mind, and they’re all fascinating to visit. They leave you a little more enriched, desiring to see the world as something much less friendly and more complicated.

Part of me is curious to do a deep dive into her greater work. There’s another part of me that worries it will only make me a bit annoyed with how intense the whole experience will be. Even then, it’s an emotionally satisfying one that never lets up. I love that even in an era where everyone had their patented angry woman on their record label, nobody was yelling from the rafters quite like Harvey. She was angry, but more importantly, she was concerned, desiring to make her feelings understood in ways you couldn’t get even from Liz Phair or Fiona Apple. What’s here is a career founded on pure rock and roll. It’s picking up a guitar and getting your voice heard. It may not always connect, but when it does Harvey makes quite the indent on pop culture.