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The Playlist: David Bowie’s Unreleased Songs and a ‘Putin’ Satire The Playlist: David Bowie’s Unreleased Songs and a ‘Putin’ Satire
(about 5 hours later)
Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos — and anything else that strikes them as intriguing. Like this Playlist? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com, and sign up for our Louder newsletter (coming soon!) here. Every Friday, pop critics for The New York Times weigh in on the week’s most notable new songs and videos — and anything else that strikes them as intriguing. You can listen to this playlist on Spotify here. Like this Playlist? Let us know at theplaylist@nytimes.com, and sign up for our Louder newsletter (coming soon!) here.
David Bowie left a postscript to his catalog with “Lazarus,” the 2015 musical-theater piece built around his music. The original cast recording includes three previously unheard Bowie songs: “No Plan,” “When I Met You” and the most angular and enraged of them, “Killing a Little Time.” It’s a searing tirade at mortality — “No sympathy/This furious reign” — that could have fit directly onto his final album, “Blackstar.” The beat heaves and erupts, the harmonies thicken and bristle with modern-jazz dissonance, and twin-guitar riffs slice crosswise against the dramatic declamation of the melody. Michael C. Hall sings with faithful Bowie inflections, a tribute that only underlines the finality of Bowie’s loss. JON PARELESDavid Bowie left a postscript to his catalog with “Lazarus,” the 2015 musical-theater piece built around his music. The original cast recording includes three previously unheard Bowie songs: “No Plan,” “When I Met You” and the most angular and enraged of them, “Killing a Little Time.” It’s a searing tirade at mortality — “No sympathy/This furious reign” — that could have fit directly onto his final album, “Blackstar.” The beat heaves and erupts, the harmonies thicken and bristle with modern-jazz dissonance, and twin-guitar riffs slice crosswise against the dramatic declamation of the melody. Michael C. Hall sings with faithful Bowie inflections, a tribute that only underlines the finality of Bowie’s loss. JON PARELES
Somewhere in between the country bro and the country gentleman, two recent Nashville scourges, lives Cole Swindell, who has been too casual to be either. Despite a couple of excellent hit singles — “Hope You Get Lonely Tonight” and “Ain’t Worth the Whiskey,” which would be ruthlessly bitter if he didn’t sing them like children’s lullabies — he’s remained committedly banal. “You’ve Got My Number,” his new single, isn’t much by way of vocal evolution — his voice is still thin, processed, neutral. But the production, an excellent approximation of a Jason Aldean song, circa 2008, does what he can’t, or won’t. It’s part country-disco, part churning 1980s monster-rock: “You know what drink I like/ You know what songs I love,” Mr. Swindell chirps, while the guitars conduct a demolition derby just behind his head. JON CARAMANICASomewhere in between the country bro and the country gentleman, two recent Nashville scourges, lives Cole Swindell, who has been too casual to be either. Despite a couple of excellent hit singles — “Hope You Get Lonely Tonight” and “Ain’t Worth the Whiskey,” which would be ruthlessly bitter if he didn’t sing them like children’s lullabies — he’s remained committedly banal. “You’ve Got My Number,” his new single, isn’t much by way of vocal evolution — his voice is still thin, processed, neutral. But the production, an excellent approximation of a Jason Aldean song, circa 2008, does what he can’t, or won’t. It’s part country-disco, part churning 1980s monster-rock: “You know what drink I like/ You know what songs I love,” Mr. Swindell chirps, while the guitars conduct a demolition derby just behind his head. JON CARAMANICA
The down-home goes cosmic in “Astral Plane,” a preview of “The Order of Time,” the Valerie June album, scheduled to be released on Jan. 27. Anyone who puts “astral” in a song title should be aware of Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks,” and Valerie June’s music certainly is; the core is a gently strummed acoustic guitar, with keyboard tones and muted horns hovering nearby as a snare drum calmly marches the listener toward a benevolent lesson. She sings about seeking the “light you have inside you,” patiently but resolutely. “Follow the signs, slowly but steady/don’t rush,” she suggests; eventually, she promises, you’ll be “dancing on the astral plane/holy water, cleansing rain/floating through the stratosphere.” Her voice is, as always, a marvel of seeming guilelessness, lightly but firmly shaping the melody while allowing herself scratches, cracks and quavers: imperfection as empathy. J.P.The down-home goes cosmic in “Astral Plane,” a preview of “The Order of Time,” the Valerie June album, scheduled to be released on Jan. 27. Anyone who puts “astral” in a song title should be aware of Van Morrison’s “Astral Weeks,” and Valerie June’s music certainly is; the core is a gently strummed acoustic guitar, with keyboard tones and muted horns hovering nearby as a snare drum calmly marches the listener toward a benevolent lesson. She sings about seeking the “light you have inside you,” patiently but resolutely. “Follow the signs, slowly but steady/don’t rush,” she suggests; eventually, she promises, you’ll be “dancing on the astral plane/holy water, cleansing rain/floating through the stratosphere.” Her voice is, as always, a marvel of seeming guilelessness, lightly but firmly shaping the melody while allowing herself scratches, cracks and quavers: imperfection as empathy. J.P.
Ari Lennox, a luxuriously confident singer signed to J. Cole’s Dreamville imprint, has a strong, Badu-esque voice and an even stronger taste for cognitive dissonance. “Cold Outside,” one of several strong tracks on her new EP, “PHO,” is rife with signifiers of 1990s proto-neo-soul — soothing tempo; warm, jazz-inflected singing; ever-so-subtle boom-bap production. Just when it seems that the moral righteousness of that era might take hold, there comes the twist: “Cold Outside” is about an affair, and a brazen, naughty one at that.Ari Lennox, a luxuriously confident singer signed to J. Cole’s Dreamville imprint, has a strong, Badu-esque voice and an even stronger taste for cognitive dissonance. “Cold Outside,” one of several strong tracks on her new EP, “PHO,” is rife with signifiers of 1990s proto-neo-soul — soothing tempo; warm, jazz-inflected singing; ever-so-subtle boom-bap production. Just when it seems that the moral righteousness of that era might take hold, there comes the twist: “Cold Outside” is about an affair, and a brazen, naughty one at that.
J.C.J.C.
The words “puppet” and “hacker” are nowhere to be found in Randy Newman’s “Putin.” But this pomp-filled set piece, featuring a billowy orchestra in razzle-dazzle mode, feels uncannily well timed nevertheless. Mr. Newman — who even pronounces “Putin” with comic flair, as if spitting it into a handkerchief — depicts the president of Russia, Vladimir V. Putin, in full shirtless glory, the comic picture of macho bluster. But then comes an unexpectedly sullen inner monologue, in which the great leader dreams of past military glories, perking up only as he realizes that “Kurds and way” rhymes with “curds and whey.” As is often the case in Mr. Newman’s satire, the tone lands somewhere in between scathing and sympathetic, making earnest points amid ridicule. NATE CHINENThe words “puppet” and “hacker” are nowhere to be found in Randy Newman’s “Putin.” But this pomp-filled set piece, featuring a billowy orchestra in razzle-dazzle mode, feels uncannily well timed nevertheless. Mr. Newman — who even pronounces “Putin” with comic flair, as if spitting it into a handkerchief — depicts the president of Russia, Vladimir V. Putin, in full shirtless glory, the comic picture of macho bluster. But then comes an unexpectedly sullen inner monologue, in which the great leader dreams of past military glories, perking up only as he realizes that “Kurds and way” rhymes with “curds and whey.” As is often the case in Mr. Newman’s satire, the tone lands somewhere in between scathing and sympathetic, making earnest points amid ridicule. NATE CHINEN
Le Tigre, the post-punk, synthesizer-driven, politically minded band formed in 1998 by the riot grrrl firebrand Kathleen Hanna, has regrouped (with Joanne Fateman and JD Samson) after a decade for an urgent last-minute election message: “I’m With Her.” Yes, that’s a Hillary Clinton slogan, and the song smilingly and bluntly stumps for the “pantsuit-wearing herstorical first-timer.” As the synthesizers pump and blip, the women sing praise for Mrs. Clinton and sharp digs at Donald J. Trump. The video features rallies, protests, cats, dogs and Le Tigre’s members declaiming and dancing — in pantsuits. J.P. Le Tigre, the post-punk, synthesizer-driven, politically minded band formed in 1998 by the riot grrrl firebrand Kathleen Hanna, has regrouped (with Johanna Fateman and JD Samson) after a decade for an urgent last-minute election message: “I’m With Her.” Yes, that’s a Hillary Clinton slogan, and the song smilingly and bluntly stumps for the “pantsuit-wearing herstorical first-timer.” As the synthesizers pump and blip, the women sing praise for Mrs. Clinton and sharp digs at Donald J. Trump. The video features rallies, protests, cats, dogs and Le Tigre’s members declaiming and dancing — in pantsuits. J.P.
Emiliana Torrini, the Icelandic singer-songwriter, recently accepted an invitation to collaborate with the Colorist Orchestra, an eight-piece chamber-pop outfit from Belgium. Their new album, recorded live in concert and set to come out on Dec. 9, will feature a full program of her songs in new arrangements, along with two new tracks. “Speed of Dark” offers an early glimpse of the project, opening in atmospheric whooshes and chimes before an electropop beat kicks in. The orchestration forms a dreamy cushion for Ms. Torrini’s coolheaded delivery, falling back and then gathering force as she sings a key refrain: “Life is just a flicker in the universe/Ooh under the stars we’re indestructible.” N.C.Emiliana Torrini, the Icelandic singer-songwriter, recently accepted an invitation to collaborate with the Colorist Orchestra, an eight-piece chamber-pop outfit from Belgium. Their new album, recorded live in concert and set to come out on Dec. 9, will feature a full program of her songs in new arrangements, along with two new tracks. “Speed of Dark” offers an early glimpse of the project, opening in atmospheric whooshes and chimes before an electropop beat kicks in. The orchestration forms a dreamy cushion for Ms. Torrini’s coolheaded delivery, falling back and then gathering force as she sings a key refrain: “Life is just a flicker in the universe/Ooh under the stars we’re indestructible.” N.C.
The bass clarinetist Jason Stein has grown accustomed to playing for big crowds as an opening act for his sister Amy Schumer: this week they appeared at Madison Square Garden, for the second time in just four months. But Mr. Stein hasn’t made any commercial accommodations in his music — neither with Locksmith Isidore, the band on the arena tour, nor with Hearts & Minds, a separate trio with a fine new self-titled album. Hearts & Minds recently played a show at Boot & Saddle, a country-western bar in South Philadelphia, along with an honored guest: Marshall Allen, the 92-year-old saxophonist who leads the Sun Ra Arkestra. A newly posted video captures the restless spark of their improvisation, featuring Mr. Allen’s far-out bleeps and tones on EWI, a windblown synthesizer. The clip, handsomely shot and edited, covers a lot of sonic territory in 12 minutes, dropping you right into the developing frenzy; don’t miss the funk groove that bubbles up after about the 10-minute mark. N.C.The bass clarinetist Jason Stein has grown accustomed to playing for big crowds as an opening act for his sister Amy Schumer: this week they appeared at Madison Square Garden, for the second time in just four months. But Mr. Stein hasn’t made any commercial accommodations in his music — neither with Locksmith Isidore, the band on the arena tour, nor with Hearts & Minds, a separate trio with a fine new self-titled album. Hearts & Minds recently played a show at Boot & Saddle, a country-western bar in South Philadelphia, along with an honored guest: Marshall Allen, the 92-year-old saxophonist who leads the Sun Ra Arkestra. A newly posted video captures the restless spark of their improvisation, featuring Mr. Allen’s far-out bleeps and tones on EWI, a windblown synthesizer. The clip, handsomely shot and edited, covers a lot of sonic territory in 12 minutes, dropping you right into the developing frenzy; don’t miss the funk groove that bubbles up after about the 10-minute mark. N.C.
Natalie Mering, a.k.a. Weyes Blood, sings in a dispassionate alto full of drowsy sensuality, like a goth-folk Karen Carpenter. Her new album, “Front Row Seat to Earth,” is full of songs that feel placid on the surface but troubled at the core. And that strangeness is front and center in the video for “Generation Why,” which Ms. Mering directed as a dystopian travelogue, shot against a backdrop of beachside decay. There’s an allegorical unease about technology and futurism in the song, which the video makes explicit. But there’s deadpan wit, too, as when Ms. Mering repeats the only line in the chorus, with funeral gravity: “Y-O-L-O, why?” N.C.Natalie Mering, a.k.a. Weyes Blood, sings in a dispassionate alto full of drowsy sensuality, like a goth-folk Karen Carpenter. Her new album, “Front Row Seat to Earth,” is full of songs that feel placid on the surface but troubled at the core. And that strangeness is front and center in the video for “Generation Why,” which Ms. Mering directed as a dystopian travelogue, shot against a backdrop of beachside decay. There’s an allegorical unease about technology and futurism in the song, which the video makes explicit. But there’s deadpan wit, too, as when Ms. Mering repeats the only line in the chorus, with funeral gravity: “Y-O-L-O, why?” N.C.