When we started the “Best of Summer”
series last year, none of us expected that we
would still have a hanging shadow of the
pandemic looming over us. If anything, this
series was created as a defense against the
social brain rot brought out by constant screen
interfacing and self-isolation. If there is one
entity that can foster genuine connection
without the need for physical immediacy,
it’s music. With that in mind, here we are,
one year later, still reeling from the effects of
this separation but with possible hope on the
horizon. As artists return to recording studios
with the music they’ve created during the
pandemic, the music beat is celebrating the
return of new music with our favorite summer
releases.
Mood Valiant – Hiatus Kaiyote
Never has outer space felt so realistic.
Hiatus Kaiyote’s third album Mood Valiant
grounds the strange and unfamiliar feeling
of what is past the atmosphere, making it
seem like something within our reach. By
that, I don’t mean simple synths and voice
alteration technology. Theirs is an album filled
with intricately thought-out instrumentation
that walks the line between jazz, R&B, funk,
electronica and something undefinable.
Their lead Nai Palm’s singing, which swoops
between euphoric, daring, grooving and
tender, is a highlight on the album, as usual.
While the album is perhaps not as cohesive
as their last masterpiece, it still makes strong
use of their technical skill while remaining
in empathetic touch with the listener. Songs
like “Stone or Lavender” bring the listener to
a reckoning with their insides, encouraging
us that love is the difficult choice we should
always make. Meanwhile, “Get Sun ft. Arthur
Verocai” and “Chivalry Is Not Dead” really dig
into it in completely different ways, displaying
once again the insane range of this band.
Because their music does not fit fully into any
genre and is like none I’ve ever heard before,
each album of theirs becomes a new world to
explore. — Fia Kaminski, Daily Arts Writer
What do you get when you take the
soulfulness and cryptic wordplay of Erykah
Badu, a velvety smooth bassline, then add a
taste of fusion jazz? Hiatus Kaiyote’s “Red
Room.” This was my favorite song of the
summer, by far. The production is stripped
down to its bare minimum, the song builds but
doesn’t necessarily change and the drumbeat
is not busy at all; its simplicity is effective.
“Red Room” showcases the artistry and skill
of the band, since there is literally nowhere
to hide, and everyone is heard. Frontwoman
Nai Palm’s voice dances on top of the groove
— there is something ritualistic about her
vocal performance, like a shaman guiding
you through an auditory hallucination. She’s
not afraid to explore the edges of her register,
and she finds beauty in the imperfections. The
lyrics are hard to unravel but not meaningless.
It’s poetry, and the words flow like a
crystalline stream of consciousness. Sparse
instrumentation and simplicity is a dangerous
game in music, but “Red Room” definitely
comes out on top. — Jason Zhang, Daily Arts
Writer
Solar Power – Lorde
Lorde’s release of Solar Power feels very
timely given the current state of the world. As
we emerge from isolation and embrace a “new
normal,” Lorde has returned from her hiatus,
giving us a fresh album that grapples with
global issues while appreciating the beauty
that we have left to cling to.
Unlike the dark, somber mood of her 2017
release Melodrama, Solar Power offers a sense
of optimism and feels more commercial than
any of her previous releases. But commercial
doesn’t necessarily equate to being unoriginal.
Produced with Jack Antonoff, who recently
produced Taylor Swift’s cut-back indie albums
folklore and evermore, Solar Power embraces
simplicity and seeks clarity through poetic
accounts of her ponderings over the climate
crisis, her recent trip to Antarctica and her
relationships — both romantic and familial.
The album’s title track has become a summer
anthem, a song that celebrates the natural world
and sonically mimics the warmth of sun-filled
summer days. With its inspiring retrospection
and concern for the modern crises plaguing
our world, Solar Power is not just a feel-good
summer release — it is a call to action. — Kaitlyn
Fox, Music Beat Editor
Spiral – DARKSIDE
When news broke out that producer
Nicolás Jaar and multi-instrumentalist Dave
Harrington would be returning to their
DARKSIDE project nearly 8 years after their
debut record Psychic, expectations could not
have been higher.
The release of Psychic felt like a new
discovery was just made in electronic music,
with its murky textures being allowed to
roam the liquid architecture provided by
subterranean synth ambiance.
Jaar in particular has continued to be a
trailblazer in the genre for the years following.
With their new release Spiral, DARKSIDE
stick to their formula of synthetic mysticism.
However, they do so with an entirely different
aesthetic in mind. In fact, the respective
album artwork between the two records
perfectly highlights this distinction. Whereas
Psychic sounds like an air bubble swirling in
the darkness of a fog-imbued room, Spiral
is lurking underneath the verdant foliage,
slithering between the pockets of space
provided by the leaves. It’s an album whose
sound is allowed to ferment as sharp plucks of
guitar give way to the encompassing hum of a
singing bowl. It feels so in tune with a summer
whose oppressive heat and humidity have
often made it feel like you were swimming
through the air. At the same time, there is also a
certain pulse that the album seems to function
under, whether it be a lone hi-hat count, a
hard-hitting bass groove or just a steady
thump of the kick. In this sense, Spiral feels
like a living organism, with its heart-pounding
away buried beneath the overgrowth. — Drew
Gadbois, Music Senior Arts Editor
Fatigue – L’Rain
Residing in an emotional state of limbo has
never sounded more breathtakingly ethereal
than it does on Brooklyn musician L’Rain’s
latest album, Fatigue. The project arrived amid
a summer spent balancing high expectations
for normalcy with circumstances that often
changed for the worse. It’s an odd space that
we inhabit now, most of us not unscathed by
the events of the last two years but willing to
welcome hope and joy with open arms. On
Fatigue’s opener “Fly, Die” a probing voice
asks, “What have you done, to change?” L’Rain
artfully unpacks this question, tying together
the moments of chaos and peace that have
defined her own fatigue into one cinematic
listening experience.
What is perhaps most special about
Fatigue is the way that each song unfurls into
something unexpected. The track “Find It”
begins as a relatively spare arrangement of
soft vocal loops and light synth, yet by its end
crescendos into a soulful explosion of gospel
choirs and church organs. “Two Face” leads
with an incredible twist of hard-edged piano
and percussion and descends into sparkling
guitar and grooving bass. “Suck Teeth” flows
between a more classic R&B bassline to almost
eerie vocal delivery.
With her background as a chameleon-like
instrumentalist, L’Rain doesn’t stay in one
place for long. Despite Fatigue’s eclecticism,
it never sounds disjointed. Instead, L’Rain has
opened up a space for her emotions to breathe
and interact with one another, reminding us
that it’s okay to step back and reconcile the
conflicting forces of our being. — Nora Lewis,
Daily Arts Writer
Black Metal 2 – Dean Blunt
You remember laying in the backseat of your
parents’ car — the one they got rid of years ago —
and the radio is playing a hundred seats up; you’re
looking at the yellow dots of street lights passing
above you like paint strokes against a fogged-up
mirror … ok, maybe it’s not like that. Maybe, it’s
just another incredible edition to Dean Blunt’s
discography of blissful, impossibly hypnotic
and cruelly melancholic art-pop music: Black
Metal 2. The British musician’s signature sound
echoes throughout the 23-minute mini-album:
his muddy baritone against the harmonization
of album companion Joanne Robertson and
her hazy vocals, along with lazy soulful guitars,
warm string sections and production that rings
snares and bells throughout such playfully short
songs. Black Metal 2, the sequel to Dean Blunt’s
2014 enigmatic Black Metal, feels less like a
complete work and more like a continuation of
a sound that is so confidently strong after the
musician’s long and influential career. “DASH
SNOW” has been on repeat since the album
came out back in July, and no matter how much
I listen to Dean Blunt, I somehow always find
myself back to these songs, closing my eyes
and swaying every inch of my body. Because
that’s what his music does to you: It makes your
everything sway. His music and lyrics have
the effect of knowing something you wish you
didn’t, but here you are, and what else can you
do, you can’t get away; you can only sit down and
listen to Black Metal 2 by Dean Blunt again and
again. — Conor Durkin, Daily Arts Writer
Jubilee – Japanese Breakfast
Japanese Breakfast’s latest release, Jubilee,
was by all means the perfect summer album.
Though Michelle Zauner is best known for
her heart-wrenching ballads and artistic
performances, this 2021 album strays from
somber narratives and embraces optimism
successfully. Jubilee is the type of alternative
pop album that can be blasted in the car
equally as well as it can be background music
while you’re doing homework.
Mainstream queer television has certainly
come a long way in the past several decades.
Before revolutionary shows like “The L
Word” or “Orange Is the New Black,” the
most the LGBTQ+ community could expect
of representation was an offhand reference
to a minor queer character (whose existence
often served as a punchline) or the implicit
representation provided by queerbaiting,
wherein media implies non-heterosexual
relationships or attraction to engage an
LGBTQ+ audience. Slowly but surely, popular
television has grown more inclusive in terms
of its queer representation, which has led to
the creation of shows like Netflix’s “Q-Force,”
one of the loudest forms of queer media
television has produced to date.
“Q-Force”
centers
around
Steve
Maryweather (Sean Hayes, “Will & Grace”),
a gay secret agent who graduates at the top
of his class from the American Intelligence
Agency but is denied cases, promotions and
his deserved title of valedictorian because
of his LGBTQ+ identity. “Q-Force” is loud
and explicit about representing queer
culture, unlike the implicit nature of queer
representation in the past. However, its
representation is still limited to mainstream
perceptions of queerness.
Undoubtedly an ode to popular LGBTQ+
culture, the show features many often-
publicized aspects of the LGBTQ+ community,
ranging from drag shows to “iconic” and “slay
queen” diction to lesbians loving Subarus. One
of the agents’ names is literally “Twink.”
When does a love letter become a mockery?
It’s tough to draw the line between riffing on
inside jokes from within the community and
making the community into a punchline
through exhausted stereotypes. As nearly
every joke in the series centers around queer
stereotypes, it begins to feel difficult to
appreciate the humor rather than cringe away
from it.
A commonly understood theme of comedy
is the notion of punching up versus punching
down. The comedian ought to aim upward
at the most powerful instead of downward
at those without a voice. The question arises
whether “Q-Force” punches up or down, as
well as whether all representation is good
representation. What exactly qualifies as
progressive representation?
On one hand, Gabe Liedman (“Brooklyn
Nine-Nine”), the creator of “Q-Force,” is a
gay man himself; thus, the content of the
show seems more authentic than it would
have had it been created from a heterosexual
perspective. Also, the show’s central plot
is centered around combating the power
hierarchy of a system that discriminates
against members of the LGBTQ+ community.
Despite its reliance on queer stereotypes,
“Q-Force” is a show unlikely to have been
created a decade ago and would have been
unthinkable in the decades before that. The
fact that a show like “Q-Force” is even possible
is a testament to the progress made by the
LGBTQ+ community.
The next question we have to answer:
Given the community’s growing influence
on popular culture, will the perception of
the queer community be pigeonholed —
becoming essentially a brand — or will queer
representation develop into a more nuanced
and human definition?
Ultimately, asking an animated comedy
show to tackle the entirety of these questions
is a lot, but it’s interesting to see where
“Q-Force” fits within queer history. The series
is unapologetic and provides an opportunity
to celebrate and gain insight into a rich and
historic culture. You just have to remember
this form of representation can be one-
dimensional, and queerness isn’t limited to
the series’ depiction.
Regardless, it’s always nice to see LGBTQ+
culture and relationships on screen, and
“Q-Force” is an excellent reminder of how far
LGBTQ+ representation has come.
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
The Daily’s top music releases of summer 2021
KAITLYN FOX, DREW GADBOIS, ROSA
SOFIA KAMINSKI, JASON ZHANG, NORA
LEWIS, CONOR DURKIN, GIGI CIULLA,
KAI BARTOL, MADELEINE GANNON,
RYAN BRACE
Daily Arts Writers & Editors
‘Q-Force’ is in your face, for
better or for worse
SARAH RAHMAN
Daily Arts Writer
Colors and shapes: That’s all it takes to
keep a kid occupied. Throw some auditory
stimuli into the mix, and you’ve got a self-
sufficient machine equipped to monopolize
a child’s neurons for hours. In a way, that’s
exactly how I view the microcosm of video
game streamers, in all their microphone-
screaming grandeur. It’s not for me, and
that’s okay; the populace of overzealous
20-somethings is instead embraced by an
equally zealous audience of children. Therein
lies the foreboding problem.
During a June 9 stream, Twitch streamer
Adin Ross accidentally opened a Discord
exchange in which a $2 million payment to
Ross was discussed. Ross, whose connections
to famous rappers turned the floodlights of
popularity toward his channel, had at the
time been streaming gambling games in
crypto casinos, one of which being Duelbits.
Duelbits, alongside several sites of the
same nature, is based offshore on the island of
Curaçao where the regulations on gambling
licenses are lax. Applicants are required
to pay a fee, but background checks are
negligent — previously approved web casinos
have been fronts for money laundering and
organized crime. Sites like Duelbits are not
subject to legal disputes with customers or
any general regulatory measures. There’s
nothing withholding Duelbits from flagging
users and confiscating their winnings at will
or rigging their random-number generators
to overturn the odds to the house.
The U.S. government cracks down on
sites like Duelbits, effectively banning their
service, but a powerful enough VPN can
grant access to American players and prevent
them from being tracked. Cryptocurrency
adds another layer of protection — Duelbits
accepts Ethereum, Bitcoin, Litecoin and
Dogecoin, eliminating banks and credit card
companies as third parties. Users might be
traced by their cryptocurrency wallets, but
the blockchain network ultimately offers
unprecedented anonymity and control over
one’s funds.
In the case of Ross, what’s happening is
quite simple: He hops on live, tacks a promo
code to his stream, spends a few hours
betting on Duelbits’ offerings of virtual slot
machines, blackjack or roulette and gets rich.
Sometimes he loses money, but that means it’s
all the more exciting when he wins big. Either
way, Ross is paid six to seven figures a month
to gamble, so what difference does it make?
On YouTube, some of his best moments
are clipped and re-uploaded. The titles of
these videos give away the high-stakes
nature of Ross’s streams: “ADIN ROSS WINS
$300,000 GAMBLING IN MEXICO,” “ADIN
ROSS LOSES $100K IN 10 MINUTES!!
(HILARIOUS).” Ross loses money, but he
wins more frequently — at least, the videos
of him winning surpass those of him losing,
both in quantity and in view count.
Even without YouTube views, Ross is
popular with almost 5 million followers and
34 million total views on Twitch. It takes little
imagination to think of what kinds of people
are watching Ross endorse casino games. The
issue is that 37.9% of Twitch’s active users
are between the ages 10 and 19. The math
favors a fanbase of a whole lot of minors who
aren’t equipped with the foresight needed
to renounce the act of gambling, especially
when their favorite streamer is adamant
about its greatness.
In an archived Twitch stream of the
H3 Podcast, YouTuber Ethan Klein hosts
Ross alongside streamers Hasan Piker and
Matthew Rinaudo, and the four hash out over
a Zoom call. Rinaudo, known on the site as
Mizkif, was also briefly involved in gambling
on Twitch. Most of the conversation takes
place between Klein and Ross, as the focus
of the episode is the gambling controversy.
When Ross is confronted with accusations
that he’s doing something objectively wrong,
he doesn’t hesitate to agree.
Klein inquires, “
You have no problem
peddling gambling to children, that’s a more
soulless act than not smiling, wouldn’t you
agree?”
Ross breaks into a cheeky grin before
responding, “It’s fun!”
It’s easy to understand how Ross gets so
caught up in the scheme. The live events
are so emotionally charged that it feels like
intruding — imagine a Las Vegas casino,
but with a camera propped up at every
machine. In one video, Ross leans forward in
concentration, eyes locked on the whirring
images of shiny multicolored gems. He shouts
expletives at the game as if to intimidate it into
improving his odds. When he scores, he grins
widely. When he scores big, he claps, shouts
and jumps in his seat, as zaps of adrenaline
take a physical form. This is what the kids
are interested in — the thrilling nature of the
game, the scintillating stunt of victory.
Age is the fundamental issue — in every
sense, promoting gambling to children is
deeply, unequivocally wrong. To watch
someone experience unprecedented peaks
of euphoria upon winning a life-changing
amount of money is extremely dangerous
to the impressionable; these are moments
that should not be broadcasted, that no child
should ever see.
There’s a reason why the federal
government age-restricts gambling. Children
and adolescents are more likely to gamble
for entertainment, to compete with their
friends or to relieve boredom, as opposed
to adults who are more motivated by the
advantage of a financial boost. The effects
of gambling are thus exacerbated on young
brains — substance abuse, interpersonal
difficulties and a host of mental health
problems can result. A lack of research clouds
our understanding of treatment options, but
if an Adin Ross fan falls victim to the grave
reality of a gambling problem, Ross will hold
on tighter to his earnings, with all but an
impertinent smirk to offer in return.
As for Ross, he is not trying to run from
being canceled, or to avoid some scandal;
he accepts the allegations in a way that
almost feels unexpected. He knows what
he’s doing, and he knows that it’s wrong. If
the circumstances were different, it would
almost be unfair to expect a 20-year-old to
be a knight of virtue and turn down a life-
changing sum of money.
I’m 19 years old, and I just started making
my own doctor’s appointments — and I mean
just started. Independence is a looming
shadow under the water, an unflinching fact
of life that I will soon have to embrace. This
is the age for opening a checking account and
finding a cheap apartment, not deciding how
to spend millions of dollars in excess cash. In
fact, I spend almost every conscious minute
distracting myself from existential confusion
and thoughts about my future — it’s hard to
speak for Ross because he is so alienated from
the triviality of the college-aged person. If he
wasn’t sitting proudly in moral purgatory, I
might feel bad for Ross; maybe somewhere
in there is a deeply misguided kid, blinded by
millionaire tunnel vision.
The nature of digital celebrities brings
about a new kind of autonomy for young stars,
because the internet is not an industry in the
way Hollywood is. There are less talent scouts
and big studio contracts — instead, as the
product, the internet celebrity governs the
way they carry themself in the virtual realm
with minimal guidance.
Ross accepted the money because he’s the
guy in charge, even though this choice may
bear detriment to his future as a successful
figure. He might not be mainstream enough
to attract the likes of tabloid journalism, but
he is important enough to influence a large
niche audience. Ross, at the age of 20, is
granted this formidable power and platform,
and he uses it to peddle the most harmful
habit next to drugs.
While Ross is entitled to his own poor
judgment, Twitch is entitled to operating
a safe, accessible platform. To answer the
question of “who let this happen,” we must
fixate the accusatory glare on the site itself.
Ross, accompanied by several others like him,
operates under the rules of the website — rules
that have failed to condemn online gambling
as a whole. Twitch’s terms of service impose a
blanket policy prohibiting illegal activity, but
restrictions against gambling streams are not
specifically written.
What we see on Twitch is streamable, and
anything streamable is monetized. While
there’s still a chance to set a precedent and
wholly condemn online gambling, Twitch
willfully neglects the issue; their inaction
serves to convince more streamers that it’s
okay to Adin Ross-ify their content.
There should be a serious incentive
to act the opposite, but the website’s
accommodation of gambling implies a grim
future of Twitch as a destination for brand
advertising and unscrupulous money-grabs,
a platform on which ethics are thrown out
the window.
Adin Ross sets bad precedents with Twitch gambling
LAINE BROTHERTON
Daily Arts Writer
This image is from the official trailer for “Q-Force,” produced by Netflix.
Design by Jessica Chiu
Wednesday, September 15, 2021 — 5
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