{"type":"doc","content":[{"type":"paragraph","content":[{"text":"","type":"text"}]}]}

Joely Kelzer

There was dancing, and bobbing around, but it was hard to take your eyes off the musicians’ hands. 


Nicholas Nicome

DOMi & JD BECK show their skills at the Cedar Cultural Center

 report that Takeoff, one-third of Migos, was shot and killed in Houston, Texas.

According to TMZ, Takeoff and Quavo were playing dice when an altercation broke out and someone opened fire, shooting Takeoff. He was pronounced dead at the scene.

 reported that officers initially said they would not be releasing the victim’s identity until his family was notified and his identification was verified by the Harris County Institute of Forensic Sciences. Police did confirm the victim is a Black male in his 20′s. A representative for the group confirmed the victim was Takeoff.

Takeoff, who's real name is Kirsnik Khari Ball, was the youngest member of Migos. Quavo was his uncle, and Offset his cousin. He was 28 years old.

Migos are known for their hits like “Versace,” “Bad and Boujee,” and “Stir Fry.” Takeoff released his only solo project, 

, in 2018 and had recently released his collaboration with fellow Migos member Quavo, 

, under the name Unc & Phew in October of 2022.

The music video for “Messy” had just released on Monday afternoon.

This is a developing story. We will add more details as they are available.

The Migos rapper was shot and killed in Houston on Tuesday.


Rich Fury

Quavo & Takeoff -"Messy" (Official Video)

Takeoff Shot and Killed at 28

Derrick Gichaba

Check out Derrick Gichaba’s photos from last week’s show.


Miloe, Ricki Monique, and Riotgrrrldarko at Fine Line

Each week, we add new music, older tracks, which are known as “Gold adds”, and tracks that might not fit our general format, but still deserve a place in rotation because they serve our mission of showing the depth, breadth, and influence of Black musical expression - These are known as “Variety adds.”

We’re sharing this to get you excited to listen and to open up the floor for feedback and suggestions. If you want to request a song, 

. If you make music and want it considered for rotation, 

 If you want to give feedback directly, reach out to me at jgreen@mpr.org.

Tune in to hear Sanni B. live on The Message from 10 AM to 1 PM Monday through Thursday!

Keep all these tracks in one place with the 

 Spotify playlist. This playlist is updated weekly with all the new adds. When that playlist is cycled with new tracks, the tracks live forever on the 

 playlist. That playlist contains all of the music that we've added since the week of July 11 in chronological order of when it was added. All of the tracks available on Spotify, at least.

“Tell Me When To Go” feat. Keak Da Sneak

“Where My Girls At?” (Honey Dijon Remix)

Julian Green built and manages the music library for Carbon Sound and oversees content creation.  


Julian Green

All of the tracks added to rotation on Carbon Sound the week of October 31, 2022.


Natalia Toledo

New on Carbon Sound

Old on Carbon Sound

New Music on Carbon Sound - Week of October 31, 2022

The Heat Check playlist is your source for new music from around the worlds of hip-hop and R&B with an emphasis on bubbling, undiscovered and under-the-radar acts. Who's got the hot hand? Who's on a run? It's a menagerie of notable songs curated by enthusiasts from around NPR Music.

In this week's Heat Check selects, prodigies past and present connect with OGs and friends, rappers stretch the limits of genre, and young artists breathe new life into a few unmistakable samples. Elsewhere, Griselda's first lady stakes her claim, a rising Afropop crooner finds his niche, a tired Toronto singer takes on wastemen and more. Stream the playlist 

redveil, "pg baby" (Remix) (ft. Denzel Curry)

Earlier this year, the Maryland rapper redveil emerged as a prodigious talent learning on the fly with his third self-released album, 

. Shared on his 18th birthday, part of its charm is that it feels like a bona fide album, its songs gelled together by a singular purpose, but one track in particular seemed to epitomize the album's vision and the artist's style: "pg baby," a soulful cut that laces a throwback R&B sample with carefully defined melodic raps. The song is a boyish striver's theme for keeping it pushing despite missteps because you're always representing everyone back home. But hidden somewhere within his woozy flows was a surprising world-weariness. 

redveil taps Denzel Curry for the remix, and his young OG, a rare 27-year-old elder statesman, understood the assignment. Curry knows a thing or two about being a rising teenager (he debuted in Raider Klan at 17) and thinking about home and its influence (His 2019 album, 

, was an homage to Miami Gardens), and he adds a verse that is reflective and provincial, performed with his madcap fervor: "With all the locals, fist fights had us falling out with each other / It's silly 'cause they my niggas but really, they are my brothers / In turn, they all made me tougher but rougher around the edges / But most importantly, see what's greater over the hedges," he raps, drawing a direct line between his hometown growing pains and a globetrotter payoff. — Sheldon Pearce

Armani Caesar is likely the best rapper in the Griselda stable, and on her new album, 

, it feels like she is making her case with each aggressive push into the foreground. Nowhere is this more evident than on "Ice Age," a pure display of strength and skill. "I'm on a roll while they stallin' out / I'm with the s**ts, and they know I'm that b***h / I can stand next to the hardest out, f**k is you talkin' 'bout?" she raps, sounding annoyed she even has to 

 it. The crystalline, Denny Laflare-produced beat sounds like someone attempting to play a chandelier like a xylophone, which is fitting given Caesar's overarching message: Elegance is something you embody at all times. — Sheldon Pearce 

On the three-track sampler Luhvit<3, Maurice II (known previously as Jon Bap) negotiates aesthetics in Dilla time. What results is a compelling and dizzying blend of rock, free jazz, computerized neo soul and (seriously) much, much more. After two more meandering cuts, the EP reaches its climax with "izzitwurkinfoya," an up-tempo shift that is more consistent, carrying pan-flute-like hits throughout its sparser, guitar-driven instrumentation. The song poses a rhetorical question that scans as a double entendre. Stay with me. Maurice II asks listeners if defying their gut instinct is setting them up for success. I don't know you but I'm sure it isn't. More broadly, he asks if this thing he's trying out is working. I'm pretty sure it is. — Gabby Bulgarelli

The Toronto singer-songwriter Chxrry22 is signed to the Weeknd's XO label, which is ironic because on "Wasteland," from her new EP, 

, it feels like she's venting about the character he often portrays in his songs. "Such a fuckin' wasteman / In a city full of wastemen / You treat me like I'm basic," she sings. He doesn't want her until he sees her doing better without him. Now he's back to ruin her life again. Guys like the Weeknd and Brent Faiyaz (who released an album earlier this year called 

with a lyric that feels particularly applicable here: "If I die, I'm haunting you"), have made entire careers off toxicity, playing the philanderer circling back. Here, Chxrry22 calls one out, her voice feathery but assertive when she sets the stakes: "I need a love, deep as the ocean / Pull me to shore / Show me devotion." — Sheldon Pearce 

There are many bustling rap scenes in Florida, but the singsong Orlando rapper Tyla Yaweh has existed a world apart from them sonically and aesthetically, skewing instead toward rock-inflected pop rap. It is now cliché to use rockstar as a euphemism for a certain kind of rap celebrity, and Yaweh has leaned into that iconography since he surfaced on SoundCloud in 2019, releasing a song called "Tommy Lee" and collaborating with one-man Nirvana cover band Post Malone (who also discovered him). "Sex Symbol" continues this obsession, and though it doesn't do anything particularly novel with the trope, it does push his sound into a more interesting direction. Songs like his breakthrough single, "Gemini," albeit earwormy, felt nearly weightless. These vocals are heavy and distorted, and he almost sounds like a fusion-dance product of Travis Scott and Lil Uzi Vert. As with much of Scott's work, the focus isn't on the lyrics, which are uninspired, but the crunch of the distortion itself. — Sheldon Pearce

Listening to Jim Legxacy's "dj," I'm reminded of how artists like XXXTentacion and Lil Peep would unlock new sides of hip-hop — and themselves — by wailing in the cadences of emo. Jim does something more contemporary here, singing of an old flame by narrowing into a specific detail, his voice faint and fluttery: "You used to promise me you'd teach me how to DJ." He sounds genuinely broken over that somber guitar riff, but when the drums and bassline erupt, you're immersed in the loose, communal vibes of drill and Afrobeats. It's the most unexpected concoction, but it feels more alive than anything I've heard in a while. — Mano Sundaresan

As Afropop's innovators worked to legitimize the form by carefully defining its parameters, a host of young stars have been operating in the fringes and breaking those established rules. Among these artists is the Nigerian teenager Azanti, who makes mellow, R&B-infused songs that aren't unlike those by slightly older mavericks Fireboy DML and CKay. His voice isn't quite the same formidable instrument, but he has a way of soft blending his vocals into his production to soothing effect. His new song, "late4dinner," is a perfect is example of this; as his reverbed singing gives off a gentle hum, it's almost as if it gets swept up into the current of a laid-back groove. — Sheldon Pearce

The Chicago singer, producer, and DJ Babydoll recently released an EP called 

 that is full of sweet songs of doomed romance, but no song feels more in touch with sense memory than "My Faults." It seems to linger in the emotions of the song it samples, Duffy's "Hanging On Too Long," stirring with hushed guitars and Duffy's own vocals ("It was just my false hope thinking we'd last," she sings in the distance.) Babydoll's bittersweet verses are layered on top, creating a sublime collage of two separate experiences of lost love. — Sheldon Pearce 

"One More Chance," a track from Wiki and Subjxct 5's new mixtape, 

, presents Wiki and the rapper-producer Navy Blue as not only collaborators, but as admiring friends. On the song, the two New York-based artists engage in a playful back and forth, trading compliments over a dreamy, lo-fi beat, which periodically builds to a looped choir adamantly chanting "one! more! chance!" It's the first collaboration between the two since Wiki put the production of his 2021 album, 

, entirely in Navy Blue's hands. "Patrick Morales I love you / I see you as a brother plus you taught me what morale is," Navy Blue praises. "Navy Blue was born under the fullness of the moon," Wiki hits back. It's nothing but a sweet declaration of respect and love. — Teresa Xie


The New York rapper Maiya the Don is in the midst of a viral moment with "TELFY," an ode to self-worth disguised as influencer marketing for a designer bag. Being in one's bag is a shorthand for being in a space so comfortable it inspires success, and here the bag in question is represented by a literal Telfar bag, only further reinforcing her status. Despite the usual rap showboating —her Range Rover isn't rented, she's dripped down in Prada wearing shoes by Giuseppe — the whole point of "TELFY" is that even without the brands, she'd still be that girl, an unstoppable force for cool. "This dress looks good 'cause I'm in it," she snaps. The song allows the prominent sample of Sisqo's "Thong Song" to do much of the work, affixing bigger rap drums to its base yet leaving it otherwise uncut and unadorned. But its energy is really powered by Maiya's swaggering, self-assured performance. As she rumbles through the verses, she is putting everyone in her line of sight on notice. — Sheldon Pearce


Sheldon Pearce

Gabby Bulgarelli

Mano Sundaresan

Teresa Xie

In this week's Heat Check selects, prodigies past and present connect with OGs and friends, rappers stretch the limits of genre, young artists breathe new life into unmistakable samples and more.


Ethan Kwon

redveil & Denzel Curry - pg baby (Remix) [Official Video]

Armani Caesar - Ice Age (Official Audio)

Chxrry22 - Wasteland (Official Audio)

Tyla Yaweh - Sex Symbol (Official Music Video)

Jim Legxacy - dj

late4dinner

Maiya The Don - Telfy (Official Video)

Heat Check Roundup: redveil, Armani Caesar, Wiki and more

, the 23-year-old Charlotte rapper MAVI seeks the strength to sustain. His raps pull salvation from Black spiritual traditions to offset the pernicious influence of fame. "Hope when I get into heaven God hand me a blunt / And it's some Runtz," he raps on "Reason!" later adding, "It's legal for corporal punishment if God your teacher," assigning purpose to the pain. Black folklore has a long history of meeting grief with a prayer and a smile instead of running from it, and MAVI embodies that. His album channels the folktale of High John the Conqueror, known as a symbol of the indomitable Black spirit for his ability to laugh through the biting harshness of chattel slavery and outmaneuver white masters. Second albums are often albums of scale and reflection, and here MAVI realizes that money and notoriety can't solve his problems, forcing him to reckon with them. Listeners are made privy to a transformation in progress, an artist saving himself from the depths of a darkness that we see but that he doesn't let us touch.

, coincided with the pandemic. That record now feels representative of the rapper's younger and brighter self. He planned to release another album, 

, in late 2021, but decided to shelve it. There is a kind of blessing in getting this project instead, one that feels well ahead of schedule in his artistic and emotional development. His debut was boisterous and raw, making apparent his political alignment but at the expense of personal transparency and lucidity. He is clearer in thought and intention on this record, more open and vulnerable, letting his observations guide his insights. This time the politics of Black liberation are more deeply rooted in his exploration of self.  

The album reads as a psalms of laughter, pain and introspection. It follows an artist enduring losses, spoken and unspoken. In facing solitude with a clear head ("Finally sober and it's just another layer of lonely," he raps on "Chinese Finger Trap"), MAVI lands us on a truth — he made it through, not by resilience alone, but through community care. He raps lovingly of his mom, relies on the support of his brothers, and yearns for the centering influence of friendship. He raps of his late grandmother as a lingering presence, her blessings staying with him. This all speaks to an idea at the core of the record: that real bonds are unbreakable. "But, love from fragments automatic / just Sumter magic," he raps on "High John," making clear that he arrives at this moment with his family legacy in tow. Noting his origins, MAVI places his magic, lyrical or otherwise, in proximity to his pedigree. This nod to the small town that produced his family line demonstrates how ancestry informs his ideas of connection.

Connection is something MAVI is markedly pursuing, and a romantic streak cuts through the entire album. His conversational songs about coming up short in relationships seem to induce epiphanies of self-reflection. "Still feel like a fuck up, away from rich or broke again / But money coming back quicker the easier I let go of it," he raps on "My Good Ghosts." "Wanted to yell, now these days, don't want no one to know I'm here." "3 Left Feet," brings us an older and wiser yet unsure and deeply questioning partner whose self-awareness keeps penetrating his own wishful thinking. "I want you back, but I can't give you the years," he raps. It's clear that he has devoted himself to rap, for better and worse, to take care of those he loves even if it separates him from them. But the conviction in his verses seems to indicate a worthy trade-off. "I been gave my soul away to the drum, I'ma live forever," he says on "Baking Soda."

In "High John de Conquer," a piece by Zora Neale Hurston reported for 

 in 1943, she wrote that High John's "singing-symbol was a drum-beat [...] sure to be heard when and where the work was the hardest, and the lot the most cruel. It helped the slaves endure. They knew that something better was coming." The patter of drums is also a signifier of brighter prospects in these songs. Dylvinci and Wolf Morpheus produced half of the album, with spot help from Jacob Rochester, Monte Booker and longtime collaborator ovrkast. Together, they help bring MAVI into a more expressive space. The beats are still assembled upon undergirded low-tempo production, but the album pushes past any lo-fi distinction MAVI may have inherited from collaborators like Earl Sweatshirt and MIKE. Nothing here sounds muddled or unclear, many tracks are bolstered by knocking drums and elegant backing vocals. MAVI knows how to move along the bends, and with sharpened writing he's more plainspoken. 

The album is not presented chronologically, but it takes time seriously, particularly the turning points in MAVI's maturation. While on his first tour with Jack Harlow, he got into a 

. The journey brought not only a brush with death but left the artist face-to-face with the wide-ranging toxicity of anti-Blackness in all of its forms: "On tour wowed by the scenery and what it mean to be a second-class citizen / See why they wrote the Green Book," he raps on "Last Laugh." The tour was a proving ground for MAVI, who refined his presence and honed his sense of discipline, and the accident began a string of losses the rapper ponders across the record — the death of his uncle, losing the will to pursue his degree. He grapples with all of this without sacrificing his rapping's rhetorical power. 

 takes accidental steps toward unraveling some of the mythology around MAVI, a crowned lo-fi rap prince. He very clearly channels his insecurities as a performer, lover and friend. He spends much of the album thinking out loud, working through the burdens of small-time celebrity. What remains is something more human. Even in the High John folktales, the Old Massa figure often came out on top. "The curious thing about this is, that there are no bitter tragic tales at all," Neale Hurston wrote. There was always laughter, win or lose — as she put it, "a sort of recognition that life is not one-sided." It's that experience MAVI seems to gain throughout this coming-of-age saga: "Found out welts make wit," he shares to open "Last Laugh," inadvertently showing the cost of his own acuity and humor.  

Clarissa Brooks

The Charlotte rapper's new album, Laughing so Hard, it Hurts, is more direct in thought and intention than his debut, more open and vulnerable, letting his observations guide his insights.


Wyeth Collins

MAVI - High John (Official Video)

MAVI's clearheaded songs of endurance

What a week for adds! My personal favorite, 

, isn't on Spotify. But honestly, the YouTube video is better, anyway. 

Try to watch it without getting emotional challenge (impossible)

We're getting spooky this week on The Message. Sanni B. will be playing some of her favorite strange, weird, creepy, crawly tracks. Tune in to hear Sani live on The Message from 10 AM to 1 PM Monday through Thursday!

“Fight Club” feat. Georgia Anne Muldrow

“Put Your Hands Where My Eyes Could See”

“It Never Rains in Southern California”

“King Tubby Meets the Rockers Uptown”

All of the tracks added to rotation on Carbon Sound the week of October 24, 2022.


New Music on Carbon Sound - Week of October 24, 2022

Fatima Rahman

papa mbye and powerhouse openers Mike Kota and Riotgrrrldarko showed the bright future of Minneapolis’ music scene Friday night.


Zoe Challenger

papa mbye gives minneapolis a night to remember

's transformation from a street cat who took rappers' money in dice games into a superstar making rapper money has been breathless, and his music leans into the velocity of his rise. He constantly notes the speed of his unlikely journey from Atlanta's impoverished West End to prison to music stardom, exalting the rewards of constant labor and forward motion. The titles of his early releases, which established his workhorse rep, invoke muscle building as much as toughness: 

. In his tumbling verses, you can almost feel the exertion.

Lil Baby has always lagged behind his mentor 

, who both taught him to rap, but his rapid ascent and his resolve to improve suggested a dormant potential manifesting in real time. On 

, his knees lock. The album is intended as a bigger and ballsier blockbuster sequel to 2020's platinum-selling 

, which was the most streamed album of 2020 and cemented him as a star. But it feels more like a business obligation than a refinement or mission statement. The album artwork depicting Lil Baby as the sole person on a rap Mt. Rushmore inadvertently captures the spirit of this drab and listless music. Baby, like his labelmates Migos, who have 

 the same imagery, mistakes visibility for greatness, an outlook that lends itself to routine. Accordingly, he just shows up and toils, motor learning guiding his writing and performances.

He spends the album noting the ways fame has altered his means and his focus. "I moved on from slanging drugs and pistols, can't be thinking simple," he says on opener "Real Spill," a brooding track that features a prominent Sade sample. That means eating dinner with Kris Jenner and Corey Gamble. "Switching up my image, no more pictures with my styrofoam," he announces on "From Now On." He reports from the World Cup on "Back and Forth," the Golden State on "California Breeze" and from "somewhere in Toronto with a Canadian" on "Waterfall Flow," underscoring his distance from West End corners and traps. He's clearly in a more deliberative and reflective mode, and has said he began writing with pen and pad on this album to deepen his craft. But there is no tension, texture, or scenery in these songs. He offers no point of view about his new environments, moving through them briskly and without curiosity.

Lil Baby variously calls himself a legend, a hero and a boss, but the songs never embrace that mythmaking or mold those labels into personas. Baby is a straight shooter who does not joke, embellish, or emote, an asceticism that does him no favors as he attempts to detail his new life. His past music got around those tendencies through sheer force of will, his melodic flows hurtling through beats the way a cannonball breeches a castle wall. Without that momentum, he is rudderless; his weak storytelling, basic lyricism and nondescript style are on full display. Although he shakes off the lethargy for a few songs ("Not Finished," "Danger," "Never Hating"), he often sounds disinterested in the act of rapping, as if his stature confirms his pedigree. 

His distaste for eccentricity extends to his production choices, which he sources from trap mainstays like Murda Beatz and Tay Keith, along with beatmakers of smaller profiles like 

. The 808s reliably kick, the snares sufficiently strike and the keys consistently patter, but on the whole the mood is static and grayscale. No surprises or quirks lurk within. The beats are entirely functional, bleeding into each other as the 23-song album drags on. "Stand On It" and "Back and Forth" seem to nod to the bouncy and syncopated rhythms of the Michigan rap scene, which has recently 

, but Baby never teases out such a connection in the ways he approaches those songs. 

Given the way Baby perks up when he raps over faster production, he'd likely sound great on a Jersey club or drill track. But he doesn't even probe the kookier margins of trap found in plugg or the eclectic work of producers like Brandon Finessin, Pi'erre Bourne, and Coupe. "Not Finished" yields his strongest performance, but when looked at closely, it is more intense than self-possessed. Although the boisterous KRAZYMOB beat knocks, it coaxes Baby into familiar habits.

The generic beats underscore a deeper anonymity in Lil Baby's music. He prizes his directness and authenticity, and has long 

 as the counterpoint to rap "weirdos." The label is confusing given his tutelage by walking iconoclast Young Thug, but he has stuck to it nonetheless. "Don't compare me to no other rapper, I feel like my shit real," he boasts on "Russian Roulette." "I made real niggas win, we back in style now," he declares on "Real Spill," doubling down. But without a distinct point of view, what is realness? Young Nudy, 21 Savage, and GloRilla are also no-frills rhymers, but their orthodoxy doesn't preclude their tastes and perspectives. Their dashes of humor and self-awareness enhance their realism, yoking it to their interests and origins. Lil Baby has an almost mythical reputation as a gambler, but you'd never know it from his songs. He raps as if he's being surveilled, a habit that ironically yields one of the album's few inspired moments: On the third verse of the otherwise boilerplate Future collab "From Now On," Baby drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and spurns the feds he insists are listening in. He sounds electric.

The paranoia is justified, too. A carceral horror story has played out in Atlanta rap this year. In May, authorities rounded up multiple members and affiliates of Young Thug's YSL records, including Thug and Gunna, on RICO charges. The 

, filed in Fulton County, characterizes YSL as a criminal street gang and uses social media posts, song lyrics and tattoos to accuse the group of a criminal conspiracy spanning armed robbery, murder, attempted murder and drug distribution. Young Thug and Gunna have denied the charges through their lawyers, and the music industry has spurned the case as a violation of First Amendment rights, but the precedent the indictment sets is already being felt. "We're used to saying a lot of stuff that's not true, that didn't happen. It's art," Lil Baby 

 The Associated Press. "It's your imagination. You can go as far as you want to take it. But now, I have to be very mindful." 

In this context, Lil Baby's fixation on new horizons and self-improvement can scan as caution. "All the youngins that be drillin' shit, you know that come with life," he obliquely raps on "Everything." Later, on the pensive "No Fly Zone," he's defiant: "Until all my hitters get out the system, they goin' in every song." Even in this light, however, his lack of style undermines his new mission. His omissions lack the cold clarity of 

, and the provocation of Tee Grizzley and the late 

 — all of whom have used their nightmarish brushes with the justice system to turbocharge their music with emotion or denude it into cutting commentary. A monument can acknowledge a legacy, but it can't build one.  

Stephen Kearse

The newly minted A-list rapper variously calls himself a legend, a hero and a boss on the album, but the songs never embrace that mythmaking or mold those labels into personas.


Man wearing silver vest raps into microphone

Kevin Winter

Lil Baby - Real Spill (Visualizer)

Lil Baby - Not Finished (Visualizer)

On 'It's Only Me,' stardom makes Lil Baby more anonymous than ever

This week's Heat Check selects features grounded wordsmiths, emergent L.A.-based chanteuses, auto-tuned misfits and songs of self-care. A rap thinker flexes his muscle, another reflects on his stereo past, an unlikely yet welcome soul collaboration bears fruit, a gaggle of nu-trap imitators try to replicate a singular star and more. Stream the playlist 

Baby Rose, "Fight Club" (ft. Georgia Anne Muldrow)

On Baby Rose's latest single, in collaboration with genre-fluid experimentalist Georgia Anne Muldrow, the vintage vocalist embarks on a new journey. Propelled by detuned piano, tambourine and punchy, pulsing bass, "Fight Club" urges us to abandon comfortability, to take the risk. "I wanna run to my fears 'til I'm not afraid," Rose sings on the chorus, to which Muldrow responds, "Catch a current of fresh air to ride." Muldrow plays a catalyzing role here in a collab I never knew I needed. — Ashley Pointer

 rap as much as R.A.P. Ferreira. The artist formerly known as milo is such a meticulous writer that his rhymes exude the care put into them, but he is also an allusive penman that is constantly thinking of other thinkers, the ideas they might bring to notions of rhythm and symmetry and lyricism, the lessons their work might imprint upon his — and anyone else's. "ours" is a prime example of studiousness becoming craft, the ten-thousand hours manifesting. Over a wonky-sounding piano-mash, courtesy of Rose Noir, Ferreira performs with the looseness of someone relying on muscle memory. "Most disastrous motive, wrote this letter to them pacifist poets / In my bag is an understatement / Retract it, I keep ready to blaze like a matchstick /Blood-soaked cowboy, down to my last tin of Altoids / They'll say this was a stream of consciousness / I was simply a being, being honest," he raps. Even if you don't know he belongs among the greats, it's clear that he does. — Sheldon Pearce

The Las Vegas-raised, Los Angeles-based singer-songwriter Arima Ederra makes gentle, swaying folk-tinged soul music that nods to influences like Lauryn Hill and Bob Marley. The title track from her new album, A

, displays her propensity for making serious things light. She is a practitioner of a weightless form of R&B that simmers in the ether like incense, and here her voice seems to let sung phrases spiral until they dissolve. Her harmonies give the song an intangibility, as she sings of angels and heaven. About a minute in, the song erupts into a skittering barrage of drums. They recede, then return. But throughout the ebb and flow, her singing remains unwaveringly subtle and elusive. — Sheldon Pearce

In a post-lockdown world, moving fast to make up for lost time can actually be more draining than redemptive. Ruti makes beauty out of that blah on "Safe & Sound." With scuffled UKG percussion and a wailing saxophone as her backdrop, Ruti's vocals ring so clearly, she's able to hit a sweet spot, leaving the listener both grounded and ascendent. This is a slow burner with more to discover on each listen. — Sidney Madden

 Joyce Wrice yet, there's still time to embrace her soulful music, which has taken a more buoyant turn lately, and bask in its richness. She performed several standouts from her new EP, 

, during a stunning set, including the Kaytranada-produced "Iced Tea" and the lush "Bittersweet Goodbyes," but another cut worth visiting is the Afropop-inflected jam "Spent," which opens up for her to further showcase the range and nimbleness of her bubbly vocals. "All the time we, spent it way too fast," she sings, with the exasperation of a woman who is all out of patience. — Sheldon Pearce 

ssgkobe, onlybino, xhulooo, spgwes, pourz, "patek"parczy, "run it up!" (ft. ilymax and xravvvenx)brentsrevenge, "SRT!"

ssgkobe, onlybino, xhulooo, spgwes, pourz, "patek"

parczy, "run it up!" (ft. ilymax and xravvvenx)

With all the chatter about rap's waning dominance lately — an overreaction to a slight dip in a few streaming metrics — it can be weird to see the exact opposite curve playing out elsewhere. There is a cadre of obvious rap stars existing beyond the reaches of popular culture, connecting with their audiences directly as everyone else ignores them, and none of these figures is more prevalent online this year than Yeat. Just spend 20 minutes letting stuff autoplay on SoundCloud and you'll start to feel his influence. All three of these songs are deeply indebted to him in some way. Half of the rappers on the "patek" posse cut seem to be miming the mummified Yeat flows and vocals. The rattling nascar and qwentcrazy production on "run it up!" evokes the work of beatmakers like Trgc. Even "SRT!" is playing into the same blurred-out, clouded-up aesthetic, which seems to scrub songs of any distinctive or defining traits. They all have their individual charms but they can only approximate Yeat's peculiar appeal. — Sheldon Pearce

The volume of "self-care songs" has certainly risen since the dark ages of The Pandemic, yet KIRBY's new single "Take Care" still manages to meet the moment. There's much food for thought within this transportative neo-soul soundscape, produced by and featuring the trumpeter Dave Guy. Communal sounds of the outside – children playing, banter of neighboring families and friends – provide a nostalgic foundation for a rim-shot-led, pocketed drum groove, a dynamic bassline, soulful, muted horns and KIRBY's own smoky, Badu-esque vocals: "This load is way too heavy carried by yourself / Take care of momma," she sings, her voice wispy but unmistakable. "Know you gotta /Take care of brother / You gotta / Take care and hustle / But please take care of you." — Ashley Pointer

Open Mike Eagle, "circuit city" (ft. still rift and Video Dave)

The L.A.-via-Chicago rapper Open Mike Eagle looks backward for inspiration into the future on "circuit city," referencing the now-shuttered electronic superstore chain. The Madlib-produced song engulfs you in a soft, rock-tinged instrumental, as Eagle playfully raps, "I'm a brand new man doing the same dance / It only seems confusing because I changed pants." His longtime collaborators still rift and Video Dave hand off verses without interruption, pushing a constant flow over a steady, percussive beat. The song is just one flashback on Eagle's latest project, 

, where he is at his reflective best — traveling to the age of clunky home stereos, boomin' 90s beats and recollecting his own past, reminding us to have fun while we're there. — Teresa Xie

Exotix, "Ton1ght" (Remix) (ft. j4M and Luvdes)


The singsong Atlanta rapper Exotix likes to overlay monotone, auto-tuned flows atop beats that lightly glow and flicker. He often seems zoned-out in his songs, as if he's dozing off beneath the gentle hum of a nightlight. "Tonight," his best-performing track yet, has the feel of a sleepy cradlesong sped up to 1.5x. Even moving in tandem with the like-minded rapper j4M, the cut just sort of chugs along, pleasantly unassuming. A new remix elevates it to something more than a sparkling bauble. The new version adds sweeping vocal runs from Luvdes, which not only bring texture but tone to an otherwise colorless affair. Even in the few moments where her voice is unsteady or cracking slightly it still feels thrilling because she is reaching for something dramatic. — Sheldon Pearce

Sidney Madden

Ashley Pointer

This week's Heat Check selects features grounded wordsmiths, emergent L.A.-based chanteuses, auto-tuned misfits and songs of self-care.


Stories

DOMi & JD BECK show their skills at the Cedar Cultural Center

Takeoff Shot and Killed at 28

Miloe, Ricki Monique, and Riotgrrrldarko at Fine Line

Get the Carbon Sound app

New Music on Carbon Sound - Week of October 31, 2022

Heat Check Roundup: redveil, Armani Caesar, Wiki and more

MAVI's clearheaded songs of endurance

New Music on Carbon Sound - Week of October 24, 2022

Connect with Carbon Sound

papa mbye gives minneapolis a night to remember

On 'It's Only Me,' stardom makes Lil Baby more anonymous than ever

Heat Check Roundup: Baby Rose, R.A.P. Ferreira, Arima Ederra and more

See more stories →