YOUNG FATHERS WHITE MEN ARE BLACK MEN TOO LIMITED EDITION 2 X VINYL RECORD + 7"
  $   24

 


$ 24 Sold For
Jun 11, 2015 Sold Date
May 22, 2015 Start Date
1 Number Of Bids
  USA Country Of Seller
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Description

Let’s get that title out of the way first: "White Men Are Black Men Too." Please read the accompanying words, straight from Alloysious’ mouth.

And then the sticker on the vinyl and CD: ‘file under Rock and Pop’. You probably want to know what that’s doing there, right? Well… (breathes) when everything is post post post post something older and better where do the exceptions go? (Exhale). When the sci-fi 20’s ‘Urban’ might as well be the atomic 50’s ‘Race’, when R&B has no blues and hiphop is a boom bip with a shorty, a hoe, it’s off to the street corner we go… where does a group like Young Fathers, who ‘picknmix from the popular music sweety shop and fly no flags and swear allegiance to no country’ - where do they go?

They have to go to the place where Beck makes a sandwich with The Beach Boys and Captain Beefheart, where Faust and The Fall tango. In Rock and Pop you are allowed to pretty much be yourself. If you are a blue and green eyed boy from Brixton with the sallowest of white skin you can become the epitome of crystalised soul, itself. It swings both ways. So… Young Fathers are breaking out of the ghetto.

Fuck these constrictive selling boxes.

For the purposes of this mission, this album, this "White Men Are Black Men Too", is rock and pop. And hiphop, too. (Woops, slipped out). No, you don’t box in the R&B Hits 2003 generation that easily. This sticker is only for the business. The listeners can decide for themselves.

The sounds are closer on this album, closer to your ears. It sounds as if you are in the room during the recording, possibly experiencing a little existential trauma, but not enough that you don’t notice an earworm hook when you hear one. These hooks, they stay with you. ‘Is that what they mean by pop’? you ask yourself. Could be, Madonna, could be. There are less words than before. Why, for fuck’s sake? Where is the hiphop? It slides in, like a reverse version, a negative, of the hiphop blueprint of eight verses and a sweet, female wail of a hook (while comedy rapper number 6 mutters ‘uh huh, uh huh’, you know, keeping it real). But YFs lob raps into songs that morph into sung verses then back into the tune, with no respect, none! for the law.

There’s nothing to lose. Don’t be afraid.

Tracklist:

A1 Still Running   A2 Shame   A3 Feasting   A4 27   A5 Rain Or Shine   A6 Sirens   B1 Old Rock N Roll   B2 Nest   B3 Liberated   B4 John Doe   B5 Dare Me   B6 Get Started   C1 Soon Come Soon      D1 Everyguy  

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