Best Songs of the Week

In the grand scheme of things, four years isn't a long period of time. High school and college are over in the blink of an eye, babies mature into toddlers seemingly overnight—four years can pass without you even realizing it. But in a musical landscape as rapidly transforming as the one we're currently in, four years is a very long time. And for a new artist, waiting four years in between album releases can be suicide.

But four years is the time mysterious duo JJ waited in between their last full-length jj n° 3 and "All White Everything," the first official piece of new material from their just announced new album. And it's clear that in this case, the time away has only made them more compelling. "All White Everything" is a cinematic ballad—stunning both lyrically and production wise—that starts rather subtly before blossoming into something much more magnificent.

In the song, Elin Kastlander sings, "Don't want you to leave, I need you to be here where you left me," and I think it's safe to say that we'd all gladly wait another four years if JJ wants us to, as long as they keep making songs like this.—Katie K.

When I first heard "Uptight Downtown" I immediately thought of David Bowie's "Let's Dance," which led me to start thinking of "Been Around The World." And now when I heard this song all I can think about is Diddy and Ma$e remixing it and dancing around the world with La Roux. This is a thought that makes me smile.—Confusion

Ghostface has spit so many sick verses by now, that sometimes some special production is needed to take things to the next level. BADBADNOTGOOD's production on "Six Degrees" is just that—uncluttered and ominous, crawling along like something from a movie soundtrack. It's great to hear Danny Brown over production like this, where he can remind everyone how good a rapper he is, quite apart from being a great party starter, but Ghostface Killah is the star here, keeping things gritty and grimy as he sneers lines like, "My Glock's fat, after the gunsmoke you screaming, 'where my block at?'"

At under three minutes it's short, but definitely not sweet, so prepare to hit replay.—Constant Gardner

It’s hard to pick out one crystal-clear reason for Lucki Eck$' appeal. It’s his nonchalant delivery, the unmistakable Chicago drawl in which he raps, his ear for production, and his memoir-like verses that come together with repeat listens. He's got a unique formula, and he does it again on his latest song, “Reflections.”

From the moment he whispers “I’m gucci, I’m gucci,” Lucki seems to open the door, inviting us to swim in his thoughts for a few minutes. The song is a sort of personal manifesto, touching upon everything from his own dealings (“I got pills for you and you too”) to his fears (“Jesus Christ you on my side right, you’ll die for me?”) and ending with his family (“My uncle told me dope will make me money then he used it.”) It’s a refreshing look into the mind of the young rapper, an honest reflection of his life without the expected bravado. It’s a big part of what makes Lucki Eck$ so good—his ability to break the wall between rapper and consumer, and bring it back to basics: storytelling.

It’s been a hell of a year for one of The Chi’s youngest talents, and today the next chapter begins. It’s Lucki Eck$’ 18th birthday, an exciting step into adulthood, and a milestone for his very promising rap career. Happy Birthday, Lucki.—Jules Muir

A whole hell of a lot is happening on The Neighbourhood's "Jealou$y"—strategically placed turns from 100s and Casey Veggies, an unpredictable, almost schizophrenic number of production twists and turns, heavy drums, Lil Wayne references, Kanye-esque vocoder, and the prevailing feeling that you're being pulled along on a journey that demands multiple listens.

Almost all of that fades into the background when that incredible saxophone loop enters focus at the 1:16 mark, all too briefly. The Neighbourhood, crowd pleasers that they are, only make us wait a minute and a half for the sax to return.

From beginning to end, "Jealou$y" serves up an exciting, unexpected ride that never loses sight of pleasure in smart repetition and a killer saxophone.—Jon Tanners

I used to think that the older I got, the more I got into mindless, almost "happy" dance music. My appreciation for house has increased over the last five or so years, but then something as dark and sinister as Wheez-ie's "Deadbolt" makes me realize that the dark side of my own psyche is where I like residing best. While the intro seems to be a tad on the long side, it truly helps build anticipation.

Once the bottom falls out, though, and that bass starts flying by you, it's all murderous insanity. A chopped beat sounds like it's way more breakneck that the slower tempo allows it to be, and I figure every sound is another part of some deadly assault weapon training school, from swords sliding against each other to the sound of mallets hitting mounds of flesh. Or maybe I'm taking things too far. Maybe it's just that a track I can crawl inside and live out my tendencies makes it easier for me to not act on those impulses.

Maybe dark dance music is vital for me. Maybe I am Patrick Bateman, and for all of this talk I'm really just on some "let me fucking breathe through maniacal music" shit.—khal

I went to Coachella for the first time this year, and I was really blessed. Outkast being Outkast, Pharrell and Pusha T performing "Grindin'," Este Haim's bass face, and dancing with a great group of people to Arcade Fire in the scorching desert heat—it was one of the best weekends of my life.

Lana Del Rey was there, too, and her set was right after Neutral Milk Hotel's. I was already pretty close to the front of the stage, but my friends and I had planned on moving closer as soon as Jeff Mangum and the band left the stage. But the moment that happened, a sea of girls adorned with floral headdresses rushed the stage. Deciding that I would rather live, I awkwardly slinked through the crowd, except they were so aggressive, so eager to see Lana, that I barely made it out of that crowd.

Though I may not be that fanatic, I get it. And with "Shades of Cool," I even forgive those who "accidentally" jabbed and scratched and stepped on my feet. Lana's voice casts a spell on listeners. Her voice is what caught our attention in the first place, but it's that vulnerability that made us, well, a little crazy for her.—Joyce

Locke is a singer and producer from NY who has so far remained totally mysterious. Her first track "We Are The Prey" was an engagingly experimental electronic pop song, but Locke's newest song "O Boy" takes things to a whole new level of mutant weirdness. The vocals are soft, almost whispered at times, a mixture of longing and fear, but it's the super sparse, slowly decaying production that makes this song so brilliant and unique.—Constant Gardner