Danny Brown – 7th Level Music

Rewind Review: Danny Brown – Atrocity Exhibition (2016)

Detroit rapper Danny Brown wasn’t on my radar until I saw him listed on the 2017 Pitchfork Music Festival lineup. I went online to research him and hear some of his stuff, and I was intrigued by his voice (sort of a high-pitched, nasally punk rock vocal) and flow and stunned by his brutal honesty about himself, his addictions, his neighborhood, fandom, and the music industry.

Starting with “Downward Spiral” (the title of which essentially describes Brown’s journey throughout the record), the album opens with warped beats that somehow mix dub, psychedelia, and industrial doom. Brown openly discusses how his drug use keeps him from getting an erection during a threesome, nearly burning down his house after falling asleep with a lit cigarette in his hand, and how “Your worst nightmare for me is a normal dream.” “Tell Me What I Don’t Know” builds like a Bloc Party track with its electronic beats and dancehall whistles as Brown laments (in a deeper vocal range, no less) how drug dealing is a “Never ending race, chasing cash. One lane going wrong way ’til I crash.” and “Shit is like a cycle. You get out, I go in, this is not the life for us.”

Brown lets us know that fame isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be on “Rolling Stone” (“Bought a nightmare, sold a dream. Happiness went upstream. Blame myself, I had no control. Now I’m living with no soul.” “Really Doe” is a who’s-who of modern day rap stars with Earl Sweatshirt, Kendrick Lamar, and Ab-Soul all contributing verses. “Lost” details how Brown has gone from dealing cocaine just to get by to now using it for fun after being famous enough to afford it.

“Ain’t It Funny” was one of the wildest singles of 2016. In it, Brown raps about how drugs have screwed up his life, the Devil is always whispering in his ear, and how many of his fans love him for having such a screwed up life and secretly hope he never kicks the addictions that he wishes he could ditch. “Golddust” continues this theme (and even brings in some rock guitar) as Brown raps, “Myself I don’t know no more. Numbing up with drugs to suppress these feelings, praying to the heavens, letting these devils get the best of me.” and “Got to the point ain’t gotta buy drugs. Niggas just give ’em to me. Yeah, they think they showing love, and that’s what’s up. Kinda fucked up. Now I do it way more than I used to.” “White Lines” has Brown confronting the real possibility that he’s going to die of a drug overdose any day now. The beats on it stumble around like a drunk and the weird synths reflect his state of mind. “Pneumonia” is a thick bass track about partying in New Orleans, getting laid, and getting high (in no particular order).

Brown keeps partying with “Dance in the Water,” in which he gives directions for a twerking contest. It has the most danceable beats on the record and proves that Brown can write a floor-filler club banger if he wants. Kelela sings in the hook on “From the Ground” while he raps in his mellow low tones about how far he’s come from writing his rhymes on a paper bag to now touring the world. “When It Rain” is one of Brown’s biggest hits off the album, and he’s downright dangerous on it. He raps about the dangerous of inner city living in Detroit, being lucky to be alive, and drawing a line in the sand to challenge lesser MCs. That being said, “Today” has Brown admitting that he knows he can die any time from either his drug use or violence in his hometown.

If you’re not sure what “Get Hi” is about, then you haven’t been paying attention to the rest of the album. Brown openly admits how much he loves weed and uses it to eliminate the stress of money problems, girlfriend problems, landlord problems, or any other problem, really (although the hidden message is how Brown’s love of the herb only contributes more to how screwed up his life is). The addition of Cypress Hill‘s B-Real on the chorus is a nice touch. The album ends on an up note with “Hell for It,” with Brown rapping about how hard he worked to get where he is (“I was hustling, scraping up, and saving just to catch a twelve-hour bus to NY, sleeping on the floor in studios asking God ‘Why?'”) and how he won’t give up despite knowing that fame might kill him.

I don’t want you to read this and think I condone drug use or dealing drugs. I don’t. I do, however, condone honesty and truth. Danny Brown delivers both with unflinching detail on Atrocity Exhibition. Truth is often missing from music in return for a fast buck and a one-hit wonder. Thankfully, we have artists like Brown to keep us real.

Keep your mind open.

[Ain’t it funny when you subscribe?]

Pitchfork Music Festival 2017: Day One recap

I must admit that the Pitchfork Music Festival crams a lot of stuff into a small park. I’m used to larger spaces like Levitation Austin, but Pitchfork gets a lot of bang for its buck at Chicago’s Union Park.

Speaking of cramming, the lines to get in were long, but moved well when my wife and I got to the festival close to 2:00. By the end of the day, we were hearing stories of the line to get in wrapping around the block and going the whole length of the park. One friend posted on Facebook that it was almost as bad as getting into the massive Star Wars Celebration convention.

Once inside, I was surprised to see how close two of the stages are to each other. The Red and Green Stages are almost a stone’s throw apart. Mandy and I wondered how noisy it was going to be with the bands playing on each stage, but the Pitchfork programmers wisely schedule the bands so that none are playing on the Red and Green stages at the same time.

We missed Madame Gandhi‘s set, unfortunately, but arrived in time to see Priests.

They played a set that proved post-punk is alive and well and had a fun time. I later picked up their first record at a record fair located on the park’s tennis courts. We had plenty of time to wander after their set and that’s when we discovered not only the record fair, but also a print and poster fair, a book fair, a craft fair, and plenty of food vendors. I walked out of the record fair with not only that CD by Priest, but also CD’s by Waxahatchee, Screaming Females, and Vacation. I might go back for a Chicago Cubs World Series Champions poster and a cute one of animals reading books.

We wandered to the Red Stage to catch the Thurston Moore Group, who put down a loud punk / noise rock set with hammering guitar solos and thunderous bass. Moore told a funny story about Henry Rollins’ too during the set, so that was a treat.

We went straight back to the Green Stage to catch Danny Brown, who came out to Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man.” He quickly got the crowd jumping with his crazy rhymes and booming beats. Water and water bottles were flying in every direction from a mosh pit that broke out in front of the stage. There was a lot of call and response stuff between Brown and the crowd, who I’m happy to say looked sharp and healthy (check out his lyrics if you’re wondering why I was concerned).

We stayed in our spot for about an hour to wait for LCD Soundsystem, who got a big cheer just from raising the biggest mirror ball I’ve ever seen above their set.

The crowd kept building as their 8:10 start time grew closer. It was so packed at one point that I had difficulty raising my arms to get this photo.

I’m glad I’m not claustrophobic. That’s the Red Stage behind us, and this is just half the crowd for LCD Soundsystem. Mandy’s checking her phone to my left.

LCD Soundsystem started their set ten minutes early, bringing seemingly enough people for an Earth, Wind, and Fire tribute band with them. They burst out of the gate hard and fast, and the crowd seemed to release energy it had been storing all day. Their big hit “Daft Punk Is Playing at My House” was the second song of the set, so they didn’t waste time.

How it looks when Daft Punk is playing at your house.

A mosh pit broke out next to us at one point, and this aging punk rocker had to get into it and show these young hipsters how its done. Other highlights included “Trials and Tribulations,” a lovely and loud version of “New York I Love You, but You’re Bringing Me Down,” and “You Wanted a Hit.”

LCD Soundsystem won’t be your babies anymore.

I warned Mandy as they started “Dance Yrself Clean.” “This whole place is going to go ape shit,” I said. She had no idea what I meant and thought the entire crowd was going to break into a mosh pit. She was pleasantly surprised when instead we all pogoed when the song kicks into full gear. It’s as great as you can imagine.

Dancing ourselves clean with LCD Soundsystem.

They closed with a wild rendition of “All My Friends.” It was well worth the waits (the hour before their set, and a few years since they called it quits) to see them. I had been bummed that I missed them when they were first on the scene, so their set at Pitchfork was my main reason for buying weekend passes. They didn’t disappoint, and lead singer James Murphy performed with a bad back and keyboardist Nancy Wong with a bum knee – although neither showed much signs of impairment (Murphy stretched at one point, and Wong would sometimes take his arm to walk from one spot on stage to another).

This is how you end a set. Stay home if you can’t bring this kind of energy.

Getting out of the festival was a big harder than getting in since the main entrance and exit isn’t huge. We plan to look for a VIP exit tonight. On the way out, a young man behind said to his friends, “Mosh pits were fun when I was a sophomore three years ago. Now, I’m not so sure.” The old punk rocker in me wanted to give him a backwards elbow shot to the face and say, “I’m getting into pits at twice your age!”

On the list today is George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic, Madlib, P.J. Harvey, S U R V I V E, and A Tribe Called Quest. We also plan to meet up with some old friends we haven’t seen in a while (one in decades), so it should be a good time.

Keep your mind open.

Pitchfork Music Festival artist spotlight: Danny Brown

Detroit’s Danny Brown is a rapper, storyteller, and outsider artist. His unique delivery immediately gets your attention. It’s easy to dismiss him as a guy who mostly raps about drugs and drink, but you’ll find out he’s layered like an onion if you pay attention. Many of his songs deal with his admitted drug addictions, the agony they put on him and his family, and the trappings of celebrity. He is brutal in his honesty, which puts him far ahead of the pack. Clips of his live sets look like crazy shows, and I’m sure his July 14th set at the Pitchfork Music Festival won’t disappoint. I’d like to meet and thank him for his pure expression. We don’t get enough of that in music nowadays.

Keep your mind open.