The Playback: November 2024

November 12, 2024 in DJ Picks

by DJ Zam

The Playback: November 2024 by DJ Zam

I listened to 85 albums in October. Here are five I can’t stop thinking about.

The Millennium - Begin (1968)

Begin Cover.jpg


8

out of 10


Trying to find a sunshine pop band from the late 60s that wasn’t doing a bad impression of the Beach Boys is a bit like trying to find someone under the age of 40 at a Foo Fighters concert–they exist, but you might go your whole life without seeing one. Early last month, I was fortunate enough to stumble on one in the form of The Millennium's little-known but well-loved debut (and final) record, Begin.

Whereas The Beach Boys and their impersonators were going for a sound that conjures floating above the clouds, Begin has a much more quaint affect. 47 minutes spent with this album feels more akin to taking a stroll through a park on a quiet Sunday afternoon. The arrangements are bright and picturesque, using glockenspiels and harpsichords to complement playful guitar progressions and dreamy vocal leads. Even with all of that layering, the album’s arrangements allow a lot of room to breathe. The airy mixes, along with the group’s feathery backing harmonies and the scattered touches of psychedelia, contribute to an entrancing and hypnagogic atmosphere. Though these motifs sound lofty, tracks like “5 a.m.” show how well the band was able to distill the conventions of sunshine pop into something simple and beautiful.

Begin is full of gems in that vein, making it one of the breeziest listening experiences I had with an album in the past month. Don’t mistake this breeziness for a lack of substance, though; head songwriter Lee Mallory throws some genuine critiques at religion and prudery throughout the LP. As such, this album works well both in the foreground and in the background, and listening to it either way is an absolute pleasure.

Prefab Sprout - Steve McQueen (1985)

steve mcqueen.jpg


9

out of 10


I feel obligated to admit that I did not know who Steve McQueen was until I listened to this album. Now that I am more familiar with his “king of cool” persona, I can see why Prefab Sprout chose to attach his name to their sophomore LP. Like its namesake, Steve McQueen gives new meaning to the word slick.

This is one of a few albums that sounds how flying over New York City feels. Like a sunkissed skyline, the arrangements gleam and glisten with pristine production. Angelic backing vocals courtesy of Wendy Smith alongside warped synths and scattered horn melodies throughout contribute to a dreamy and hypnotic atmosphere. The sound is still grounded in pop conventions, however, as jangly guitar leads and some of the stickiest choruses of the decade help to give Steve McQueen a unique combination of thrills and enchanting moments. This project isn’t all sonic flare, though, as McAloon’s cryptic and self-effacing lyrics demand multiple listens. His vocal performance–expressive, versatile, and dynamic–is yet another highlight and a testament to the album’s visceral potency.

It was not possible to leave Prefab Sprout off this list. I considered including their third record, From Langley Park to Memphis, but I decided on the more consistent and aesthetically appealing Steve McQueen. October was a month where I zeroed in on new wave essentials, and while Joy Division, Talking Heads, and XTC are great in their own ways, Prefab Sprout brings just as definitive a sound, though with a more polished and approachable finish.

The O'Jays - Back Stabbers (1972)

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9

out of 10


Picking just one Philly soul album to include on my top five for the month was not an easy task. I listened to a lot of early and mid-70s classics from the scene in October, including self-titled smashes from The Delfonics and The Stylistics, Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes’ I Miss You, and Marvin Gaye’s Here, My Dear. Each of these records has its own outstanding qualities, whether that be Teddy Pendergrass’s silky baritone on I Miss You, the euphoric and atmospheric arrangements on The Delfonics, or the cutting sensuality of Here, My Dear. None of these projects, however, match the pure energy of Back Stabbers.

There may not be a soul album anywhere that grooves harder than this one. Every track is positively exploding with infectious musical layers, from funky bass lines to syncopated and propulsive bongo rhythms. The words “forward-thinking” also come to mind when describing this album. A few moments on the tracklist feel like they could be called proto-disco rather than Philly soul, namely the soaring string progressions and halting trumpet refrains of “Shiftless, Shady, Jealous Kind of People.”

Though every one of the 10 songs on Back Stabbers has its merits, I would not feel compelled to bring attention to it if not for its closer, “Love Train.” In a decade where Marvin Gaye released “What’s Going On,” Stevie Wonder released “Love’s in Need of Love Today,” and Curtis Mayfield came out with “Move On Up,” “Love Train” stands out as the most impassioned and empowering soul performance. Don’t believe me? Go check it out for yourself.

Strung Out - Twisted by Design (1998)

StrungOutTwistedbyDesign.jpg


7.5

out of 10


Despite the sheen and commercial appeal of its smash hits, the punk scene of the mid-to-late 90s was largely defined by a gritty and metal-influenced sound that took shape in southern California at the end of the 80s. Of all the bands that emerged in this scene, none provide a listening experience more harrowing than Strung Out. In 1998, the Simi Valley quintet showed just how angsty skate punk could be.

In many ways, Strung Out’s third LP, Twisted by Design, has all the fixings of a traditional skate punk record. The tracklist features a heavy dose of dramatic breakup songs driven by explosive rhythms, scorching guitar leads, and coarse vocals with a youthful whine. These account for some of the best moments on the album, especially “Matchbook,” which is a certified underground punk classic.

Twisted by Design sets itself apart, however, in its versatility and its aggression. Taking after some of the biggest metal acts of the time, the band incorporates menacing and sludgy guitar progressions and a pounding double-bass attack on drums while diving into some dark places thematically. Jason Cruz’s lyrics make for some genuinely disturbing tracks, not least of which is the searingly toxic “Just Like Me.”

With numerous cuts similar in tone and sonic makeup to “Just Like Me,” Twisted by Design does not amount to a very pleasant 36 minutes. In fact, the record can be rather punishing. Where it thrives is in its ability to induce catharsis. Twisted by Design will literally thrash and electrify your ears until the negative feelings start to flow out uncontrollably. And I think that’s pretty cool.

Ka - Honor Killed the Samurai (2016)

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8.5

out of 10


I found out about Ka because of his passing. I am in no position to speak authoritatively on his catalog or his career arc. All I can do is share what I learned from listening to his most critically acclaimed release, Honor Killed the Samurai. In my relatively limited experience with hip hop concept albums, this is easily one of the most immersive, intimate, and difficult to decipher I have heard.

Ka, who grew up in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Brooklyn, uses largely drumless instrumentals centered around foreboding guitar, flute, and piano samples to pull listeners into the shady and disconcerting atmosphere he describes in his lyrics. Taking on the identity of a stoic and battle-tested samurai, Ka relives the harshest days of his life in poverty. He raps at length about the pressures to get involved in criminal activities and the consequences for those who didn’t. He packs his verses with internal rhymes and subtle wordplay, and his soft delivery gives credence to the image he is trying to portray. The samples from Japanese cinema and quotes from Inazo Nitobe's Bushido: The Soul of Japan only serve to further flesh out the concept.

Because of its relaxed sonic qualities, Honor Killed the Samurai gives the illusion that it is something that should be enjoyed in the background. Ka’s lyricism, as well as his intentional and thorough approach to production and narrative storytelling, deserve to be front and center. Do not listen to this album because Ka died. Listen to it because it is excellent.

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