NASRA/Krief
NASRA
S A L V E // Independent
Musical debuts are certainly an exciting prospect for any musician looking to open a window into the foundations they are laying down for their work. It is, however, seldom that such a debut comes from an already thoroughly accomplished interdisciplinary artist. I would even add that the questions that I may ask myself as a reviewer change fundamentally in light of such a consideration, which brings me to S A L V E by NASRA. NASRA is a queer, Muslim, Oromo multidisciplinary artist living in Amiskwaciywaskahikan (Edmonton). NASRA has already broken ground as the founder of Black Arts Matter and as the Youth Poet Laureate of Edmonton in 2017. As an award-winning artist, NASRA was the 2017 Recipient of the Mayor’s Emerging Artist award, and their chapbook A God Dance in Human Cloth was the co-recipient of the BP Nichols National Chapbook award in 2019.
S A L V E is NASRA debut in music, and it reflects the artist’s mature conclusions about the work they have already done in theatre and poetry as theatrics and poetics shape the substance of S A L V E. The album was produced by KazMega, a notable poet, M.C, and all around an interdisciplinary artist by their own right.
The first track, “Lavender,” speaks out this mission statement towards the conclusive line: “I’m the Black Land Back / to claim my home.” “Lavender” is a smooth track that plays on a spiritual lyrical delivery that verges on gospel between NASRA as well as Sweet Architect and Shia Sankofa, who are featured in the track as back up vocalists. By contrast, “Sweet Almond” is a stripped down track that brings things down to the basics of bass and poetic lyrical rhythm. In this instance, we get a glance at the music always implied in NASRA’s poetry as the free-style delivery in the track speaks volumes for their experience as a spoken word poet. “Rose” slightly picks up the pace with a slow-jam track where we are able to see NASRA’s explicit turn towards a music voice in the melodies of their voice - the quality of the vocal work and the multiple vocal tracks show how NASRA is already a strong contender in the musical sphere that they are entering, and KazMega’s production really helps showcase this through the care put to the vocal and instrumental tracks. “Lemongrass” continues this exploration of NASRA’s musical exploration through a different angle in production, as the instrumental brings us into an auditory space shaped at large by its immense bassline which is cutoff when it seeks to highlight other more subtle aspects of it, the Angela Davis samples, and NASRA’s voice. This is followed up by another stripped-down spoken word track “Shea,” which is composed from the same foundations as “Sweet Almond.” And though instrumentally, the track might leave us with questions about why two similar tracks are in the same album, there is something worth noting nevertheless: namely, that the substance of both tracks comes down to the music in the words themselves that makes all the difference and that both tracks offer debriefing spaces for poetic reflection much in line with NASRA’s healing efforts. And the space to breath that “Shae” offers only clears the musical pallet for the last track.
Without a doubt, “Cinnamon” is the conclusive and definite musical banger in S A L V E. First of all, “Cinnamon” stands out because it is an energetic peak in the entire album where NASRA is able to reach a confrontational and empowered voice - the subject matter calls for it, as the systematic and intersectional oppressions faced by Black artists is constant when they move themselves through the structures and strata of the industrial cultural complexes of today, the questions I would ask to NASRA are simply: how do you confront those layers of power? How do you, as queer Black person, find the space for healing and the respenditure devotion of that energy at risk of compromising itself to the unreliability of these systems? And of course, NASRA answers through and in their voice: “Ask myself, why you hiding / why you sacrificing you / for nickel n dime-ing / where them zeroes at / where you putting all this rage… / advice / drop niceties / this not an act / been a dragon / been an ancient motherfucking artifact / healing look like feasting off this fresh/ dark matter of fact / war all in my head / time to bring the soldier back.”
NASRA’s S A L V E is a cannon ball of a debut, which only leaves an anticipation for whatever emancipatory experiments in art are next for the artist. The record concludes as a radical preclude to this work of healing and transformation, which is not just personal, but systematic. But that is getting ahead of myself. The long-term rapport between NASRA and KazMega is displayed in the chemistry of how the album is carefully and caringly put together as a space for growth in both artists, as KazMega has explicitly expressed the late-hours of studying music theory and nurturing the neo-soul sound that carries the breadth of the spiritual upheaval in NASRA’s lyrical poetics. This effort and care shows. For both artists, this album speaks to an exercise in overcoming the traumatic industrial complexes in artistic communities which compromise the core and central value in Black life - the work at hand literally resonates with the radical spirit of figures like Angela Davis, who is sampled throughout the record. NASRA’s lyricism is dense and mature in its articulation of the divinity and beauty in Blackness, and this reflects in the collaborative and communal spirit of all artists that came together in S A L V E. The leap from spoken word to music is subtle, because there was always music in NASRA’s poetry.
- Simone A. Medina Polo
Krief
Chemical Trance // Indica Records
Last February I went to an Oscars viewing party at a cinema in Berlin and there were Oscar Bingo cards at the door. Watching and listening for certain things in the speeches and segue skits amped up my viewing pleasure, and I had a similar experience as I listened to Chemical Trance by Krief. I knew that he had listed The Beatles, Radiohead, Leonard Cohen and Pink Floyd as reference points for this neo-psychedelic record, and hearing patches of each of these artists come out over the course of the album helped to provide context for these richly-orchestrated songs. Artists are heavily influenced by the music they love, but the difficult part is to borrow from one’s desert island classics while crafting something that is fresh enough to warrant its own place in listeners’ libraries. Chemical Trance frequently nods to its influences, but it never stops sounding like Krief.
Few bands’ catalogues have been as closely examined and emulated as that of the Beatles, so it’s not enough to describe a song as Beatlesque anymore. Does it sound like Beatlemania-era Beatles like some songs by The Bees or perhaps like summer of love Beatles like The Apples in Stereo or The Olivia Tremor Control? Is it acoustic-style Beatles like some Goldberg Sisters stuff, or latter-day Beatles like Dr. Dog or The Lemon Twigs? All of these bands have managed to evoke the fab four while still carving out their own sound, and Krief pulls off the same feat. What’s even more impressive is that Krief steers away from psychedelic lyrical cliches. These aren’t songs about flowers, sunshine and pixie dust. Instead he winks at latter-day Beatles through subtle background parts on various instruments and darker themes in the lyrics. The first track is the perfect example of this as Krief’s electric guitar line sounds like it was borrowed from a song that never made it onto Abbey Road, and he sings about “no lingering sorrow in that twisted mind” before asserting: “I am the pillar of darkness in your life.” The frantic guitar in “The Light Between Your Eyes” recalls “Revolution” and much of the bass work on Chemical Trance resembles Paul’s melodic bass lines on songs like “Something.” Additionally, Krief includes haunting guitar lines that come from the same place as Abbey Road’s “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” throughout the album. Many of the vocal melodies and harmonies recall the Beatles too, but it’s the accompaniment that demonstrates Krief’s mastery at implementing musical ideas that hint at other artists’ signature sounds. However, this psychedelic love letter isn’t just addressed to the mop tops. The melodic guitar in the first half of “Man About Lies” sounds like he brought David Gilmour in for the recording session, but the throbbing synth and other components keep it from sounding much like Floyd. The electric guitar and vocal melody on “Line Stepper” instantly recall Radiohead, but the acoustic guitar is more Leonard Cohen and the synth is more Rick Wright, and eventually Krief builds into a Beta Band crescendo before landing in a psychedelic pasture. Other parts of the album leave classic rock behind altogether and recall the likes of Panda Bear. None of the songs on Chemical Trance ever sound like copycat tracks that would belong on other artists’ albums, but they do show how an artist can pull from different eras and still create a cohesive work out of the threads.
Since Patrick Krief made a name for himself as a multi-instrumentalist with The Dears, it’s no surprise that he is adept at filling out the tracks with ingenious background parts, but on his new album he exhibits his ability to craft rich, dynamic songs from the ground up. Krief moves from minimalist openings to lush, chaotic crescendos before bringing the song back down to its bare elements. The songs never get exhausting and the album flows as a whole. The dizzying final moments of “Svengali” bleed into the minimal drum groove of “One Up Two Down” where Krief reveals his lower register and flirts with a latter-day Leonard Cohen delivery. The album’s climax comes in the unhinged guitar of “The Light Between Your Eyes” which is followed gracefully by a melancholic piano ballad. The order of the songs helps to take the listener on a journey, and it’s clear that Krief has put the same level of care into making a well-rounded album as he has into creating dynamic songs.
“Radiohead meets The Beatles” is pretty high praise, but it also doesn’t do Chemical Trance justice. It’s easy to celebrate the familiar frosting in these songs, but there’s so much more to this album than its influences. Krief is a masterful songwriter who can adopt different modes to fit the needs of his songs, and his ability to build tension and then release it makes for a truly satisfying listen.
- Devon Dozlaw
