Week of 6/23: Titus Andronicus, Gucci Mane, Jessica Mindrum
Our weekly dose of song reviews. Michael and Eli take on a song together, Miranda reflects on a beloved track she dislikes, and Eric plugs something new.
Welcome to Endless Scroll, the brainchild of Eli Enis (he/him), Eric Bennett (they/them), Michael Brooks (he/him) and Miranda Reinert (she/her). Since Feb. 2019, we’ve been a weekly podcast about music, the internet, and where those two things intersect. On Substack, we’re also a weekly roundup of songs. Our format is simple: each of our four hosts picks a song they love and writes about it. There will be one free post every week, and more at the end of every month for paid subscribers. For the sake of your wallet, don’t start a paid subscription on Substack. Instead, sign up at the 2$ tier or higher on Patreon and we will gift you a subscription.
For this week’s edition, we wrote about songs by Titus Andronicus, Gucci Mane, and Jessica Mindrum.
Titus Andronicus — “The Battle of Hampton Roads”
Miranda Reinert:
Most bands I don’t like I can just leave and not be concerned with my disinterest. I don’t need to figure it out and I don’t need to be exposed. Unfortunately, I live with someone who is a massive fan of a bunch of stuff I find grating and my options are to adapt or suffer. Today is a story of adapting. Or maybe it’ll be about suffering, but suffering in good faith.
Titus Andronicus encompasses a few things I notoriously dislike in music. Their songs often breach the 10 minute line. Their big album is a concept record. They’re beloved by everyone I instinctively want to pick arguments with.
That last one might be my fault, but it’s my experience.
Lately I’ve been making progress with enjoying the band, though. The front half of The Monitor makes sense to me. “In A Big City” rocks. I talked about the first album for my newsletter last year and I enjoyed it a lot more than my tone in that review might lead you to believe. Today, though, I am making an attempt at understanding a song I once said, “makes me hate guitar music.”
“The Battle of Hampton Roads”: the 14 minute long, bagpipe-laden final track on The Monitor.
It makes sense to me that the first two and last two tracks on the record mirror each other, but I think I want it to end with “…And Ever” and that’s my big issue. I will put this aside to look at the song objectively.
The first four minutes are good— they might even be great! I like Patrick Stickles’ voice and I think most of the lyrics on all of The Monitor are great. This song isn’t an exception to that. We get a really fun instrumental break after that and one more very good verse about leaving Boston and hating yourself. Nothing better than that. I usually think the song could end here. Bagpipe free. I’m having a good time, I get why people like it. The bagpipes come in and I don’t hate it. Maybe if I don’t listen to the whole album I can appreciate it for what it is!
Then I look to see how much longer is left in this song.
It’s 7:30 in the morning at the Orlando airport and I am once again shattered by the news that I am still five minutes from the end of this song. I’ve felt so much in the last nine minutes. I’ve felt so much hope. So much joy. So much positive energy hoping this will be the time this song makes sense.
But I still just want it to end.. Then “A More Perfect Union” starts up again. Maybe it’ll be different if I just listen through one more time.
Jessica Mindrum — “Restart, Begin”
Eric Bennett:
Restart, Begin, the new EP from Chicago songwriter Jessica Mindrum, is a collection of quiet experiences. Each song is meditative and subdued, Mindrum’s voice regularly shifting from projecting out with a charming warble, to a shy whisper or hum. It is, like so much music this year, a piece created in the wake of a particularly terrible period, but that doesn’t make the pain it unpacks any less valid, any less devastating. The title track comes at the project’s close. Despite how pared back the other songs are, this one gets to feel triumphant in its way. It’s full of expertly arranged strings that draw somehow even more emotion out of Mindrum’s already resonant lyrics. I am struck by so many of these lines. Particularly “I am desperate for the calm” and, of course, a graf towards the end that stands out to any listener.
“I can’t remember / the weight of the water / the voice of my mother / the insolent daughter.”
I don’t know the details that went into that and I don’t need to. Something I love about music like Restart, Begin is when an artist writes so openly that, despite the specificity of the moments they’re describing, you can see your own experiences in their words. That connection on an emotional level is so important. I know that by now many of us are blacking out pandemic-related content from our minds, but you have to admit that hearing someone wonder how to get back to a semblance of normalcy is something we can all relate to.
Gucci Mane — “Posse On Bouldercrest (Feat. Pooh Shiesty and Sir Mix-A-Lot")”
Michael Brooks:
After a handful of projects that just weren’t all that memorable, Gucci Mane has returned to form on his newest album Ice Daddy. “Posse on Bouldercrest” is one of two songs on Ice Daddy featuring Pooh Shiesty and the two rappers are perfectly in sync with one another over a gurgling beat courtesy of Mike Will Made It. Gucci Mane raps about cars, girls blowing him kisses, and making so much money that he’s starting to get bored of it. Pooh Shiesty also raps about cars, his distaste for fake gangsters, and taking somebody’s watch and chain. If you’re even a casual fan of rap there’s nothing in this song that you haven’t heard before, but Gucci Mane and Pooh Shiesty are experts at this kind of thing, so believe me when I say that this is as good as it gets. I think the main reason that “Posse on Bouldercrest” works so much for me is because of how familiar it feels. Over a decade into his career, Gucci Mane knows his strengths as an MC, and Ice Daddy is 17 tracks of comfort food.
Eli Enis:
For the last couple years, I’ve thought of Gucci Mane projects as pleasant and uplifting soundtracks for the Fridays they arrive on that I’ll forget by the end of the weekend. He’s one of the most consistently competent rappers in the game (which is impressive considering his veteran stature), but it’s been a while since Gucci made something I want to return to. Until now. Michael and I are both joyously surprised at how much we’ve been bumping Ice Daddy since it dropped last week, and the project’s second track is an immediate highlight that features the best work from everyone involved.
One of Gucci’s greatest gifts to music over the last year has been his platforming of Memphis up-and-comer Pooh Shiesty, and like Michael said, the two have a natural chemistry here that just works; slow, drawly, confident-but-not-desperate-to-prove-it, and intrinsically charming deliveries that have an air of silliness no matter how serious the subject matter gets. However, what I love most about this track is how much it samples and interpolates Sir Mix-A-Lot’s 1988 bop, “Posse on Broadway.” Most of Gucci’s verse was written in direct reference to the bars in that song, and they even managed to bring on the 57-year-old rapper for him to bellow, “My posse’s on Bouldercrest,” in the manner of his song’s hook from over 30 years ago.
Old-heads might think the references are too on the nose, but I think it’s cool to hear multiple generations of rap (Sir Mix-A-Lot, Gucci, and his protégé Pooh) existing in harmony on one bangin’ song.