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November 16, 2016 - Image 5

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The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Wednesday, November 16, 2016 — 5A

MARTHA STEWART

There seem to be some ‘Blurred Lines’ in this photo.

Meek Mill is not a bad rapper.

Let’s repeat that: Meek Mill is not
a bad rapper.

If you’ve spent any time on

Twitter in the last year, that
might come as a surprise. After
his horrible — absolutely horrible
— handling of his beef with
Drake, Mill became
the face of “trash”
rap, a nice hashtag
that requires little
effort or evidence to
support, but takes up
few characters out of
the allotted 140.

But
Mill’s

rapping is not trash.
Rather, Mill’s publicity skills and
clearly anyone who could’ve said
anything — seriously, anything
at all — to him throughout that
beef are. In some respects, he
earned his criticism. A native of
South Philadelphia, a product
of a difficult upbringing which
involved police brutality, the loss
of his father to an armed robbery,
and an intense, escapist focus on
battle rapping in his teen years,
Mill should have possessed the
credibility and the experience to
hold his own in a rap battle with a
former “Degrassi” actor.

But Mill fell into the trap of

appealing to Twitter to fight
his battles. For a rapper who
brandishes Glocks on his tracks,
it came across as petty when he
took to the internet platform to
complain about Drake failing to
“retweet” his album drop. Meek’s
very valid critique about Drake
hiring ghost writers rather than
penning his own bars was buried
in the Toronto native’s perfectly
coordinated response.

Drake, following the cardinal

social media rule which Mill
seems to be completely oblivious
to, appealed to the hashtag, to the
slogan, rather than true credibility.
Never mind that “Charged Up,”
Drake’s initial response track, was
underwhelming and skirted the
issue at hand almost entirely. The
true punch came in the timing —
he dropped it on his brand new
Apple Music Radio Show, just

coming off a high from his well-
received release If You’re Reading
This It’s Too Late, and curated
and cut-down on his own social
media to balance against Mill’s
seemingly unhinged and childish
slew of follow-up tweets.

While Mill should have just

entered the studio and told it as it
was, ignoring the internet entirely,
he failed to understand the way
these things work. By the time

“Back to Back”
came
around

he had already
lost, his abysmal
response
track

putting the nail in
the coffin.

That

background
is

essential to keep

in mind with Mill’s first full-length
release since that implosion. It’s
clearly a moment which caused
Mill an identity crisis as the
public turned against him, and
he uses DC4 to express some of
that frustration. It’s a refreshing
reminder of Mill’s rap prowess,
but also brings up questions as to
where that anger and that intense
focus was when under pressure.

Still, DC4 largely succeeds in

reaffirming that Mill still has
skill behind the mic. He has a
penchant for powerful opening
tracks, and “On The Regular”
delivers on this end. Recalling his
first Dreamchasers mixtape and
the opener to his last album, the
track samples Carl Orff’s ominous
“O Fortuna,” peppered with sharp
gunshots. Mill is not holding his
trigger finger back, and his bars
are tight and pointed. But it’s no
“Dreams and Nightmares,” and
it won’t turn around detractors
quite in the way his first track on
his supposed “comeback project”
should.

Like all of Mill’s projects, DC4

fluctuates between strong flashes
of brightness and throw-aways.
It’s the stand-out individual tracks
which support his projects, not the
works as a whole, and DC4 is no
different in that respect.

Take the transition between

“Shine” and “Froze.” The former
feels like the clearest response
to his past beefs, and functions
almost like a diss track in its ability

to brush off his detractors and
look to what matters, telling us on
no uncertain terms, if it “Wasn’t
for this music / I’d prolly be dead.”
That high moment, though, moves
to one of the missteps of the
album, the Nicki Minaj and Lil Uzi
assisted track “Froze.” It’s messy
and lacks any cohesive rapping,
save for a short stint by Minaj, to
salvage itself. That back and forth
can be a bit too common on this
tape.

But
while
those
two

features don’t necessarily meet
expectations, the guest list on this
project is particularly important.
It reads as a kind of who’s who of
rap, as well as an alignment along
pro-Drake, no-Drake lines. A
number of rappers here have been
involved in their own spats with
the crooner, Tory Lanez and Pusha
T being the most prominent.

At times those features have a

tendency to overtake Mill himself.
“Offended” is a Young Thug song
in every way but name — that
sparse, murky production and
a never ending hook. You might
have to listen to it more than once
to even realize that Mill has a verse
somewhere within the dominating
interplay
between
Thug
and

up-and-comer 21 Savage. That
the track is one of the highlights
of the tape is a testament to the
skill of the features, but also raises
concerns for Mill’s own ability to
craft a track.

However,
keeping
to
that

back and forth mixtape pattern,
Mill proves this worry wrong
with “Lights Out,” perhaps the
best track here. It’s classic Meek
Mill, putting his angry bars at
the forefront and keeping the
production just bare enough to
make its impact and fall away.

The end result is a mixed bag,

equal parts moving and equal
parts forgettable. The high notes,
though, are high enough to place
Mill back on his feet, and with
some credibility regained at that.
It’s not the roaring comeback
that he could have used, and it’s
hard to rationalize why he would
continually push back and increase
the anticipation for such a non-
explosive tape, but nonetheless
it’s a solid reminder that Mill isn’t
done quite yet.

Meek is not a bad rapper

MATT GALLATIN

Daily Arts Writer

‘DC4’ is an act of redemtion for the lambasted musician

B

DC4

Meek Mill

MMG/Atlantic

ALBUM REVIEW

Stillness is the move in

“Certain Women,” the latest
film from acclaimed indie
director
Kelly
Reichardt

(“Night Moves”).
An anthology film
with
segments

that
are
only

cursorily linked,
“Certain Women”
depicts the lives
of
four
women

in
and
around

Livingston,
Montana.
The

screenplay
was
adapted

by Reichardt from a short
story
collection
by
Maile

Meloy, a fiction writer from
Montana. In one segment,
Laura
Wells
(Laura
Dern,

“Wild”), a lawyer, tries to
console her deranged client. In
another, Gina Lewis (Michelle
Williams, “Blue Valentine”)
tries to buy sandstone from
an elderly friend for a house
she is building with her family
from the ground up. In the
third, Jamie (Lily Gladstone,
in her film debut), a young
rancher, strikes up an almost
romantic friendship with Beth
Travis (Kristen Stewart, “Still
Alice”), who teaches a law
class.

Livingston
sits
at
the

foothills
of
Yellowstone

and is one of those railroad
towns, developed in the early
20th
century
as
migrant

workers moved westward in
search of new employment
opportunities. But in 2016, the
city hasn’t grown much and

is struggling to maintain its
old charm, which fades fast
as populations shift to nearby
Bozeman
or
Billings,
the

latter of which gets a mention
toward the film’s beginning.
Those who stay have limited
opportunities,
little
work

and bleak lives,
covered
in
a

thin
layer
of

early
winter

snow.
Among

the
rugged

mountains that
frame
their

small city, each
woman is forging
a new path for

herself, but the resources are
slim.

Reichardt’s
commitment

to molasses-like pacing can
prove a deterrent — especially
considering
not
too
much

really happens in each segment
— but the performances she
coaxes out of her actors are
nothing short of superb. Dern
as
an
experienced
lawyer

without the trust of her client,
Fuller (Jared Harris, “Mad
Men”), exhibits a repressed
frustration surely shared by
the
perennially
overlooked.

She slips between sympathy
for Fuller and an irritation
at his deranged mental state.
Williams is quietly devastating,
a wife and businesswoman
angry with her husband for
accidentally creating divides
between her and her daughter,
while
Rene
Auberjonois

(“M*A*S*H”)
easily

(hauntingly even) transforms
into a confused elderly man.
Stewart,
experiencing
a

critical renaissance of her own,

is a natural fit in Reichardt’s
whispered world, engaging in
dialogue devoid of the artifice
that plagues too many other
films.

Cinematographer

Christopher
Blauvelt

(“Indignation”) aptly captures
Livingston’s bleakly stagnant
citizens. The camera, almost
never
moving,
focuses
in

on each character, allowing
a full display of thoughts,
emotions, feelings, questions
and, importantly, decisions.
Blauvelt’s photography is a
cinematic
Minnesota
nice,

granting each individual their
due time that seems to move
westward across the Dakotas.
That stillness, though, can be
sinister. In one segment at a
crime scene, tension mounts
and the scant editing can make
the heart pound.

The nature of sparseness

in this film is such that
whenever frills are added, they
naturally carry more weight,
tipping Reichardt’s hand ever
so slightly to prove what is
important and, perhaps, what
can be dismissed. Scored music
plays prominently one time,
at a heartbreaking juncture
in the film’s last third. For
Jamie a brief respite from her
unending hours on the farm
must come to an end, and she’s
left despondent. So, too, are our
other characters, in their own
ways. Perhaps that solemnity is
rooted in the nature of modern
society’s treatment of women.
Maybe it’s just Montana in
the quiet winter. Reichardt,
either way, is uniquely gifted
at capturing that deep desire to
escape.

DANIEL HENSEL

Daily Arts Writer

‘Certain Women’ taps into desires

Director Kelly Reinchardt charts four female lives in rural Montana

B+

“Certain Women”

Michigan Theater

IFC Films

FILM REVIEW

For any flourishing television

series, intercharacter chemistry
is essential. The budding romance
between Jim and Pam on “The
Office” drew its fair
share of viewers
to the series when
it was still on air.
The same goes for
various other series
such
as
“Parks

and
Recreation”

and “The Mindy
Project,” to name
a
few.
In
the

aforementioned
examples,
intercharacter
dynamics propelled
the series forward for many
successful seasons. Whether these
relationships are pre-established
or
not,
successful
character

pairings have the potential to
decide the fate of an up-and-
coming series. Schematics aside,
“Martha & Snoop’s Potluck Dinner
Party” is a lesson in building
character
dynamics
and
the

importance of chemistry, even if
the show takes a while to build the
stars’s chemistry.

Throwing
Martha
Stewart

into a kitchen occupied by stoners
probably wasn’t the brightest idea.
It’s hard not to notice Stewart’s
blatant lack of interest from the
beginning — in fact, she looks as
if she’d rather be anywhere else.
Despite the unlikely friendship
that formed between Martha and
Snoop Dogg back in 2008 on her

show “Martha,” the two look a
little uncomfortable working with
each other on a more permanent
basis.

When guest star Seth Rogen

(“Sausage
Party”)
comes
on

stage, you can still feel a hint
of discomfort emanating from

Stewart. However,
you can also begin
to see a thaw in her
personality, as the
added
company

takes the banter
from scripted to
friendly.
Perhaps

the
original

awkwardness was
a
by-product
of

first episode jitters.
From
their
long

history
together,

you
can
assume

Martha and Snoop’s friendship
has had proper time to grow,
something that comes out as the
episode progresses onward. Yet,
as an alum of network cooking
shows, Martha does come off
as territorial, working hard to
overcome the scripted banter only
to ultimately fall back into old
routines.

Getting past Stewart’s robotic

mannerisms in the start of the
episode, the duo soon falls into
a rhythm — a slow one at first,
but a rhythm nonetheless. By
the time special guest stars Wiz
Khalifa and Ice Cube join the
duo on stage, the ambiance is
friendly and funny. Stewart and
Snoop progressed through the
episode from territorial beasts of
their own specialties to a well-
oiled machine, the (vegetable) oil

creating a smooth flow between
the stoner and former network
homemaker, lightheartedly joking
as they batter some chicken. It’s
nice to see the sudden change, as it
promises that the concept behind
a cooking show starring a rapper
and a homemaker could turn out
as interesting as its title suggests.

What really stands out in

“Potluck Dinner Party” is not the
celebrity bake-off, but rather
the interactions between the
hosts and their respective guest
stars. Not only do the guest stars
provide a medium through which
Snoop and Martha get into an
off-the-teleprompter groove, but
they also throw in some hilarious
anecdotes throughout the show’s
40 minute run time. The first
episode itself is titled “Putting the
Pot in Potluck,” which resonates
well with Rogen, who jokingly
brings a fire extinguisher onstage
that is not intended for a cooking
fire. The talk of the night is pot,
and given some of the users
onstage, you can only guess the
shenanigans that ensue. So as
the night rolls on and the drinks
multiply, the quartet takes their
food to a game of “Two Thighs
and a Truth,” a play on the
popular game “Two Lies and a
Truth,” as Ice Cube judges their
cooking masterpieces. Through
the
impromptu
interactions

which display a lightheartedness
and genuine fun between the duo
there is a shimmer of a hope that
this eccentric cooking series has
a shot at success in the coming
episodes.



MEGAN MITCHELL

Daily Arts Writer

Stewart and Snoop serve a ‘Potluck’

Though an unlikely pair, VH1 finds mild success with cooking duo

B-

“Martha & Snoop’s

Potluck Dinner

Party”

Seson Premiere

Mondays at 10 p.m.

VH1

When
Rostam
Batmanglij

announced his departure from
indie staple Vampire Weekend,
the
community

lamented. Many
fans
still
do,

but
Rostam’s

recent
work

with
Hamilton

Leithauser
(former
vocalist

for The Walkmen)
should
put
to

rest any doubts
about his future
involvement
in

music and the quality of his work
separate from Vampire Weekend.
Now, with Leithauser, Rostam’s
work sounds more traditional,
inspired by oldies while remaining
distinctly baroque in nature. On
I Had A Dream That You Were
Mine, the duo’s debut, plainly but
carefully arranged piano, (slide)
guitar, bass, exuberant percussion
and the occasional organ provide
a
backdrop
for
Hamilton’s

intrinsically emotive rasp.

Although the album recalls the

work of American songwriters of
old — Dylan and Cohen, especially
— Hamilton and Rostam seem
focused on not simply rehashing
what has already been done
so many times before. “Rough
Going (I Won’t Let Up),” with it’s
unashamed “sha-doobie sha-doo-
wop” backing, is perhaps the most
immediate indication of the duo’s
deeply unironic love for the gaudier
music of North America’s past.
“You Ain’t That Young Kid” echoes
this love, with a classic harmonica-
and-piano opening, but exemplifies
Hamilton and Rostam’s more
modern approach. The song starts
on harmonica, but transitions to a
swinging slide guitar, then changes

pace completely with a rolling,
bass-driven melody and closes
shortly after a brief harpsichord
line, evidencing the pair’s musical
comfort with the genre and its
associated conventions.

As tends to be the trend with

albums
whose

instrumentation
invokes nostalgia,
the lyrics follow
suit.
Focusing

primarily on past
relationships
and wishes for
what could have
been, could be or
might one day be,
Hamilton’s vocals
are appropriately

melancholic.
They
provide
a

good balance for their relatively
jubilant backing while skillfully
avoiding the wallowing feeling
often associated with nostalgia.

On
“The
Morning
Stars”

— a rambling, percussive ode
to a past lover — Hamilton is
the metaphorical ghost of his
relationship,
wondering
who

could possibly have replaced him.
It is followed by “1959,” in which
Hamilton sings of his mistakes
in a relationship, reminiscing
on inside jokes and reflecting
on mortality, while coming to
terms with his baser tendencies.
The track also features Angel
Deradoorian (formerly of Dirty
Projectors),
the
sole
guest

appearance on the album.

Emotionally charged standout

“The Bride’s Dad” is the brief
narrative of a deadbeat, unkempt
father singing at his daughter’s
wedding. Nostalgia remains the
dominating tone, but in a more
playful sense than a sorrowful one
here. The wedding guests are a
mix of amused and uncomfortable
as he’s escorted, crying, from the
stage, but all he cares is that “(he)
caught (his daughter) smile / From

the corner of (his) eye.”

Songs like leading single “A

1000 Times” and “In a Black
Out” will draw listeners in with
their straightforward poppiness
and anthemic qualities, but the
appeal of these two decreases
with time. In “A 1000 Times,” a
man wanders the streets of the
city — New York? — and finds
himself accidentally in front of
an old lover’s house that has now
been boarded up. The song is a
rousing call, a passionate cry into
the dark, but teeters on the edge
of being repetitive. Meanwhile,
“In a Black Out,” which is more or
less the paragon of accessibility in
a song — it was recently featured
in a television ad for Apple, if that
helps give you an idea —simply
sticks out stylistically from the
rest of the album. It sounds more
like it was written to serve as proof
that the duo knows how to craft an
immediate earworm, while they
would, on the whole, really rather
not.

When all’s said and done,

Hamilton and Rostam make a
formidable pair. Hamilton’s voice
— breaking, bending and soaring
over Rostam’s straightforward
piano

ensures
that
the

sometimes cliché tropes employed
still come across as genuine. The
pair cover an impressive amount
of ground, sonically speaking, and
it is not difficult to imagine nearly
any song on the album faring well
as a single.

At the very least, I Had A

Dream is an exciting new step for
both Hamilton and Rostam, and
one that should reassure fans of
both artists’s previous and solo
work. The album functions well
as an anchor for the duo, a starting
point that recalls both Vampire
Weekend and The Walkmen while
also establishing this new project
and wiping clean the slate of
stylistic expectations.

SEAN LANG

Daily Arts Writer

‘Dream’ a step forward for Rostam

In a collab with Hamilton Leithauser, ex-Vampire Weekend member soars

ALBUM REVIEW

B+

I Had A Dream That

You Were Mine

Hamilton Leithauser

+ Rostam

Glassnote Records

TV REVIEW

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