I wasn’t ready for the end of NBC’s hit series “The Good Place.” I mean, when my housemate told me the title for the series finale was “Whenever You’re Ready,” I started crying, knowing what was in store.
I love Doja Cat. A lot. I find myself not wanting to listen to anything else at any given time. Whether it be walking home from class or crafting the playlist for my shower concerts, she is the only thing I gravitate toward. I’m obsessed, and I love when you can feel yourself growing obsessed with a new artist. You listen to every song on every album. You watch any interview or performance you can possibly find on YouTube. It’s a great feeling.
I have to wonder if the writers of “The Office” knew what they were doing when they wrote their series finale. The easy answer here is that they obviously did; Google “the office finale” and you’ll find think piece after think piece about how perfectly NBC’s hit sitcom concluded. My actual question lies within a specific quote. Did the writing team know that “I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them” would wind up plaguing yearbooks and Instagram captions for (probably) decades to come? It’s a nice quote, and as someone whose self-admitted tragic flaw is sentimentality, I can see why fans of “The Office” cling to it like a treasured family heirloom.
“Miss Americana,” the new Taylor Swift documentary, made me feel guilty for going through a period in which I no longer liked Swift. I discovered her in 2010, and her second album helped me through a dramatic eighth-grade friendship breakup the following year. I was officially a fan, and so was nearly everyone else I knew, regardless of gender.
Tim: I think it was really smart that they started out with Shakira. Briah: Okay, can I say something? I don’t think either of them are singing. Shakira, she can probably do better than J. Lo (Jennifer Lopez) as far as singing and dancing at the same time. J. Lo, I just don't think possesses that talent. T: I definitely think their background tracks were turned up a couple notches.
When Dua Lipa took home the Grammy Award for Best New Artist last January, I was happy. When she released her comeback singles “Don’t Start Now” in November and “Future Nostalgia” in December, I was happy. And this past week, she came out with “Physical,” a jaw-droppingly good retro-pop banger with a beautiful accompanying music video. And I can’t stop listening.
Knock knock. Who’s there? It’s Katy Perry — she wants to know if we’re still mad at her for cutting off all her hair and releasing “Witness.” Also, she brought three brand new singles.
"Pokémon Sword and Shield" are the latest upcoming installments in publisher Nintendo’s and developer Game Freak’s long-running “Pokémon” series. They will be the first main series entries on a home console, the Nintendo Switch. The games will take place in the Galar Region, a United Kingdom-inspired environment. These games will mark the eighth generation of new Pokémon, some of which were revealed before the games’ release. These include Grookey, Scorbunny and Sobble, the new starter Pokémon players can receive at the start of the games.
Sexuality, child marriage, incest, cell phone addictions and Florida; these are regular things that middle schoolers go through, right? According to Netflix’s “Big Mouth,” it is. The animated comedy has never been afraid of crossing over the line and season three is direct proof of that.
Charly Bliss – “Threat” Brooklyn-born band Charly Bliss followed up their critically acclaimed LP “Young Enough” with “Supermoon,” a five-track EP bridging the gap between “Young Enough” and their 2017 album “Guppy.” Rounding out “Supermoon” is the succinctly-written, sweetly-sung “Threat,” a three-minute ode to instability in relationships. Lead singer Eva Hendricks sings precariously of how she “can forgive anything [and] it’s absolutely terrifying,” and with her brother, Miami University alum Sam Hendricks, on drums, the song maintains its sense of authority and power the whole way through.
I hated rap as kid. Yet my entire family has always had a proverbial love for rap/hip-hop music. My mom had a deep love for Tupac. She remembers exactly where she was when she got the news he had been shot. My dad — a dedicated Biggie fan — was her direct rival. Lil Kim, Snoop and Jay-Z were also among the artists that would play throughout my house. My music taste was solely limited to R&B and soul. At the time, I was dedicated to my faves: Lauryn Hill, Justin Timberlake, and D’Angelo. The thought of cheating on them with another artist outside of the genre was too much for my young self to handle. For a while, there no rap artist that could hold my interest. Sure, I love the hip-hop classics “Big Poppa,” “No Diggity” and “Hypnotize” for example, but those are only singular songs. There was never an entire hip-hop album that held my interest from start to finish. That is, until Kanye came around.
It’s no secret that the music industry is notoriously sexist. But when Kanye West’s new album “Jesus Is King” dropped — coinciding with the announcement West stopped taking his bipolar disorder medication during the album’s production — I couldn’t help but think about Britney Spears. Granted, I think about Britney Spears nearly every day, and especially these days, because of everything she has been going through. That’s because Spears has been in a conservatorship since 2008, after her very public breakdown. A conservatorship is a legal hold which is put into place when someone is so mentally incapacitated, they cannot take care of their own medical or financial needs and someone is appointed to do so for the conservatee.
On Sept. 6 of this year, Post Malone released his third album, “Hollywood’s Bleeding.” If there is one word to describe “Hollywood’s Bleeding,” it’s diverse. Post has been called a versatile artist before, but it definitely shows in this LP. Some of his songs demonstrate his ability to concoct another pop/rap hit, including “Enemies” featuring DaBaby, “Die for Me” featuring Future and Halsey and “On the Road” featuring Meek Mill and Lil Baby.
Few people love to party more than Charlotte Aitchison. Better known as pop star Charli XCX, she has built her brand on boys and bacchanalian nights. Since the start of her career, the singer-songwriter has proven she can reliably put out both industrial pop bangers and radio-friendly bops about the highs of living on the edge. But for the first time, Charli’s fanbase of “angels” have been treated to an album about what’s not so preferable about the eternal state of partying she’s painted pictures of throughout her career.
I spent many middle school evenings sitting at my kitchen table half doing homework, half watching whatever my mom had on TV. One day, seemingly unprompted, mom stopped in the middle of washing a dish and pointed a soapy yellow-gloved finger to the TV, which was playing a re-run of “Seinfeld.”
What kind of hole have we created in modern society where we’re filling it with logical promiscuity and revelry about someone else’s unpredictability? I’m not certain. But I know that “Love Island” is filling it.
