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Lil Nas X is back and better than ever. His newest song "MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name)" became an instant hit, quickly climbing to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. Much of the song’s popularity is intertwined with the controversy over Lil Nas X’s music video that's sparked sensationalized arguments—from priests to politicians.
Renée Reed’s self–titled debut album hovers like a will–o’–the–wisp over the Louisiana bayou. She comes off as a naturally gifted musician across these 12 songs, culled from only the first fifteen she ever recorded on four—track. At least part of this talent can be attributed to her relatives: an accordionist grandfather and a great uncle who catalogued traditional regional songs. Reed is well aware of her music’s inextricable ties to the culture in her hometown of Lafayette, La.; she described the project as “dream—fi folk from Cajun prairies.” In that sense, Renée Reed is unified with its surroundings, but deftly walks the tightrope between honoring and transcending its legacy.
When the creators of a new, Penn–specific trans–inclusive language guide talk about their work, it is with a mixture of pride, exhaustion, and a fierce desire to do even more.
Underrepresented communities proved to be an instrumental force in ensuring Joe Biden’s victory in the 2020 presidential election. BIPOC organizers and coalitions registered thousands of community members across the country and arrived at the polls in record numbers. President Biden isn't unaware of this reality either; after specifically acknowledging Black voters’ role in securing the election in his victory speech, he promised, “Especially those moments when this campaign was at its lowest end, the African American community stood up again for me. You always had my back, and I'll have yours.”
No one knows who Parannoul is. Born and raised in Korea, the musician composes and produces all of his work in his bedroom before uploading the finished products to Bandcamp—no record labels needed. Although he humbly describes himself as “just a student writing music,” his sophomore LP To See the Next Part of the Dream is recognized as one of the best shoegaze albums in aggregate review websites such as Rate Your Music and Album of the Year. Considering the album is sonically similar to the discographies of classic bands such as My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive, it’s no surprise to see it receive such a positive reception. However, To See the Next Part of the Dream is still uniquely Parannoul’s, focusing on the moments in his life that led to the creation of his deceivingly dark album.
YouTube rocketed a young, fresh–faced Justin Bieber to the forefront of pop culture and music in 2009. Vine produced Shawn Mendes, who went from seven–second song cover videos to four full–length albums. Now, TikTok is offering … Addison Rae?
“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”
It often feels as though Lana Del Rey lives in two different worlds. In her music, she’s “the poet laureate of a world on fire.” But in the harsh light of real life she can be, as Street’s Kyle Whiting puts it, “a bumbling fool.” Take an excerpt from her interview with Annie Mac earlier this year: “It’s like, we don’t know how to find the ways to be wild in our world … and at the same time, the world is so wild.” In reference to the seditionists who stormed the Capitol, this remark dangerously minimized the fact that the riots were foremost a hateful and violent demonstration of white supremacy.
The new season of Netflix’s Formula 1 documentary, Drive to Survive, is out, and along with its narratives—first race winners, death–defying struggles, corporate intrigue—comes one particularly glaring omission.
One year ago, Penn students and faculty emerged from an atypical spring break to an almost dystopian new normal. In an astounding few weeks, students were asked to navigate housing relocations and total overhauls to their existing learning structures. Every student was impacted greatly. But for students with disabilities, examining these impacts opens the path to create better learning spaces. The one–year anniversary of the COVID–19 pandemic is an opportunity to think about what is working, what isn’t, and what accessibility for students with disabilities can look like at Penn as we rebuild the post–COVID–19 academic world.
Back when Selena Gomez was still known as the Disney star on Wizards of Waverly Place and a member of Selena Gomez & the Scene, she teased a new project on her Twitter account. The tweet, which said, “Can’t wait for y’all to hear the Spanish record ;) it’s sounding so cool,” thrilled fans who were patiently waiting for her first solo full–length album. When Gomez announced she was taking a break from music the following year, and her subsequent return was accompanied with dance pop and EDM, many became worried that Gomez had forgotten about the promise she had made.
Faith—it brings us together, pulls us apart, and spawns arguments both at the kitchen table and on the battlefield. In a world that’s progressively becoming more secular, organized religion often receives serious backlash for inciting prejudice and violence. Many religions are losing active participation—especially from younger generations who struggle to reconcile practicing religion with the polarization and acts of terror committed in the name of faith. It’s true that religious engagement has steadily been on the decline over the past century—and in our technologically advanced world that’s continually being updated, it’s no wonder the credences enshrined within thousand–year–old texts might not exactly 'relate' with kids of the Y2K.
Fiona Apple is an entertainment industry's nightmare, a stubborn embodiment of unyielding originality—even when she raises eyebrows. Decades after she first rose to fame for her debut album Tidal, Apple's critically acclaimed fifth studio album, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, garnered three nominations at the 2021 Grammys. Besting the likes of indie darling Phoebe Bridgers to win Best Alternative Music Album, Apple emerged from an eight–year music hiatus with a bang—and yet decided to skip the ceremony altogether.
In 2017, investment management company State Street Global Advisors (SSGA) placed the prominent Fearless Girl statue in New York's Financial District. With her hands on her hips and chin raised high, the Fearless Girl squarely faces the Charging Bull, another famous Wall Street statue that represents the supposed pinnacle of corporate grit and success: the American Dream. When the Fearless Girl was first installed the night before International Women’s Day, it was quickly lauded on social media as the symbol of modern–day feminism. Now, four years later, the statue has once again been remodeled to mark the international holiday.
Slint’s music has always felt like a soundtrack to their own disappearance. Even the cover of 1991’s Spiderland, their final and most acclaimed album, looks like the “last sighting” photograph on the side of a milk carton. This month, Spiderland turns 30 amongst a crop of recent releases from black midi, IDLES, and Black Country, New Road. All of these groups pull the most direct reference from Slint’s musical stylings seen since the '90s heyday of their influence. Perhaps Slint’s preemptive breakup has stopped the contents of Spiderland from aging. But it’s the band’s influence on the face of indie that remains their greatest legacy today.
Since the release of their hit single “Bloom” in 2010, The Paper Kites have developed a distinctive sound that provides a serene escape from the typical feel of pop music today. The indie–folk band, originating from Australia, boasts a discography of five studio albums and four EPs. Lead singer and guitarist Sam Bentley describes their sound as “whatever we released on the last record.” Roses, The Paper Kites' fifth studio album, does not drastically diverge from their classic “last record” indie–folk sound. Instead, the ten–track album synthesizes this characteristic frame and expounds on it, featuring an international female vocalist on every song.
“Sometimes, it feels like Penn cares more about making money than the actual health of its students,” says Angelica Meliksetyan (C '24). That’s just one of many expressions of frustration since Penn’s February announcement that, starting with the Class of 2024, sophomores would be required to purchase a dining plan. For many, this new policy feels like an overstep that limits student freedom, not unlike the requirement for all sophomores to live on campus. But for Angelica, her Type 1 diabetes means that being forced to eat on a dining plan poses a threat to her health.
“What does it look like to attempt to decolonize design for an app?” Malkia Okech (C '19) asks. “What does it mean to create an immersive digital experience about slavery when that is just such a traumatizing history?”
2020 was undoubtedly one of the most difficult years the food industry has faced to date. With lockdown orders imposed nationwide to curb the spread of COVID–19, many restaurants were forced to lay off workers, or even permanently close, as profits declined. In just the first month of the pandemic, 8 million restaurant jobs were lost.
This month, we reached the anniversary of COVID–19 officially being declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization. In the intervening year, music helped us cope with physical confinement and limited social interaction. Some turned to club bangers, while others embraced the softer sounds of ambient tunes. For me, there was no genre that provided greater escape from the quarantine doldrums than Americana. Left–of–center country music proved to be the perfect soundtrack for my 2020, especially with much of my early quarantine spent learning how to drive. The sentiments expressed by these artists—a yearning for escape and a desire for companionship—have felt more resonant than ever this year. Here are six songs that have felt like mirrors to my own emotions during the pandemic, and that may do the same for you.
Solutions by The State News