Showing posts with label Prince. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prince. Show all posts

Wednesday, 6 June 2018

🐣 SANTINO LE SAINT — MAGIC

Somewhere in a desolate wasteland between completely despairing of your situation and carnal pleasures, the trade-off between sex and happiness, feelings and sparing feelings, is the incredibly feel-tastic lamenting lovesong that is 'Magic'. Created by London model, producer, singer and musician Santino Le Saint, it's a tract of scalding synth sounds winding between just a few notes making it feel cyclical – the going-round-in-circles of a restless mind in love – set against a trap beat that rumbles like gurgling lava, sharp industrial snares and ticking hi-hats like a sense of stomach-churning immediacy.

Obviously there is this trap heaviness to it. And to add to the lamenting vibe of this literally magical track there's some serious shredding going on, a Latin-infused '80s-metal guitar solo cavorts in aching interludes in the midst of 'Magic', before becoming the coda of the track, crying out, rapid-fire and raucous. But vocally it feels like an R&B-flavoured slow-jam—Santino Le Saint's satin voice skillfully lilts from the sensually stark and beautifully confused first few lines:

"You should fuck me in the back of this Uber, baby
I know this isn't something you're used to baby
Life's changed and I'm still getting used to it lately
Nothings what it used to be baby..."

Yet it's coated in this metallic decay, as if those words are already ruined, already not worth communicating to whomever they're directed. It's continues thoughtful and reflective: "I was sitting in the passenger, flicking through the calender, thinking about the shit we've done""If we were in a different situation we'd be better off." And doubtful: "Now you're saying that I love you but you never know..." And at times it's like a storytelling Bonnie-and-Clyde-esque stream-of-consciousness, e.g. "but if we're gonna die young then / you'd better promise me if you can shoot then drive""...and if they try and pull us over put the metal to the floor."

"I actually wrote the first line of 'Magic' whilst I was drunk in the back of an Uber on my way home from a party," said Santino Le Saint, talking about the track. "I like to arrive on a track with impact and this was so direct and to the point... I sort of forgot about the lyrics, and a few months down the line the concept came back into my mind and the rest of the track fell into place. You know when you're drunk or high, feeling yourself and just fantasise about shit, that's 'Magic'."

In all, the track brings an everyday, an everynight, Uber ride to a startlingly evocative and cinematic height, from where it drips greatness and sharpness onto you like tears and static—and in a unique vessel that crosses the epic poetry of guitar solo with R&B's sensuality and emotion.


  • πŸ”” This lovely piece of music is taken from Santino Le Saint's recent XENO EP, three-track offering that acts as a composite of these guitar, vocals and beat in a modern-day slice of Prince-esque compounding. You can – and most definitely should – listen to it over on his SoundCloud.


πŸ“ 
Santino Le Saint Internet Presence ☟
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Friday, 14 July 2017

🐣 PHILIP LASSITER — HOPSCOTCH

Interminable groove sails throughout this track, elements layered with beautiful precision, dynamic turning on and off and adding and subtracting to the tapestry of sound. The main thread weaving through here is the trumpet, its brassy peals moving from that ascending-descending refrain that kickstarts the track with a super shuffling rhythm, to smooth crooning and variegated wailing solo blasts that leave trails like the curling smoke of a missile spiralling through the sky. Philip Lassiter commands the trumpet as an augmentation of voice, the trills and warbles and harmonics spilling out in each slapdash-considered lick, the playful groovesome jumping nature of it perhaps defining the title 'Hopscotch'.

Amidst this though there is the bass which carves out a bouncing foundation, guitar zipping with it for extra energy in sharpness and distortion, and paired with the back-and-forth of the beat – its thwacking overdriven kicks and clacking metallic snares and shuffling hi-hats – this provides the rhythm that gives the track its feeling of staccato sway, the impatient itch to move; tremolo keyboards wash over the peaks and troughs of the funk with a rounded chiming sparkle, a soft resounding mist that covers all; a breakdown punctuated with handclaps and sparse piano twinklings. These powerful decorations, the beat, the groove, all serve to frame the brass blares in situ, give it a substantial context, and allows the trumpet to follow tangents and zigzags never too far from the foundations that anchor it to such a simultaneously danceable and chilled bedrock of sound.


  • πŸ”” 'Hopscotch' is one of the tracks to be taken from his recent album, Chill Mode, details of which can be found over here.
  • πŸ”” As a related piece of trivia, it's fun to know that Lassiter "is most recently and widely known for leading an 11-piece horn section for the late Prince, with whom he toured internationally and in the U.S."


πŸ“ 
Philip Lassiter Internet Presence ☟
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Monday, 28 April 2014

YOUNGS TEFLON – WHEN THUGS CRY

First heard a couple of days ago on BBC Radio 1Xtra DJ Charlie Sloth's 'Fire In The Booth' slot, in which he enlists rappers to basically come and do their thing live, I think I just had to write about this guy. You know that feeling. You hear it, you like it. What more can I say?

So this is Youngs Teflon, a London rapper who "began writing bars in the playground", showing clear signs of creativity from a young age. I love his name – it's Teflon, I'm making an educated guess, bc nothing sticks to him. Rolls off like dewdrop spheres of oil after a fry-up. Water off a duck's back as they say. But whatever. Idiomatic references aside, his sense of humour, soft side and penchant for weed shine through in 'When Thugs Cry'.

Obviously a tongue-in-cheek nod to Prince's 'When Doves Cry', Tef (as he's also known) sets his bars against a backdrop of slow-jam style beats, delicious clicks reverbing in its low-key sway, dripping with a waterfall of muffled samples that glisten with sparkles of longing piano melody. It's a gleaming of emotion that burns hot and measured, perfectly reflecting the pining for lost romance in his lyrics. Which, by the way, are full of imagery: "After hours I fall back and I break buds / Thinking about you in French plaits without makeup" – "Cold days when I'm grafting / Flashbacks of you laughing" and with part of the refrain "I've been drinking / With the music low but Mary Jane singing," all amassing to paint pictures of a guy, Tef himself, "reminiscing" about a relationship.

It's pretty, it's personal, it's not grime as you know it but it's forward-thinking grime that takes the inherent beauty of songs about lost love and injects London attitude; an achievement for sure and something that deserves airtime and more listeners.



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