Chart-topping, multi-platinum rap superstar YoungBoy Never Broke Again’s huge album, SINCERELY, KENTRELL is available on Vinyl.
SINCERELY, KENTRELL serves as a testament to YoungBoy’s remarkable talent and versatility, showcasing the Baton Rouge, LA-native’s true heart and soul over 21 featureless tracks. The album sees YoungBoy joined in the studio by a number of longtime collaborators and rising new producers, including Dubba-AA, Mike Laury, TnTXD & Dmac, Smashdavid (Big Sean, Chris Brown, Khalid, Bad Bunny), MikeWillMadeIt (Kendrick Lamar, Rae Sremmurd, Eminem, Beyonce), and TayTayMadeIt (Roddy Ricch, Swae Lee, Jack Harlow).
With 76 total RIAA certifications and over 72.5M certified units under his belt thus far, YoungBoy Never Broke Again is without question among the landmark hip-hop artists of this or any era. 2020 and 2021 have both seen him become America’s #1 most video on demand streamed artist of any genre. His second studio Album, Top, is officially platinum certified after an explosive debut at #1 on the SoundScan/Billboard 200 upon its September 2020 release. YoungBoy was also last year’s #3 most audio on demand streamed artist industrywide and is currently #5 for 2021 thus far and it serves as a testament to his remarkable talent and versatility, showcasing the Baton Rouge, LA-native’s true heart & soul.
Triumph breeds confidence, and with confidence comes an expansion of ambition, a focus of ability, an emboldening of audacity. De-Loused In The Comatorium had risked everything Omar and Cedric possessed on the wildest of gambits, the most impossible of dreams: making sense of the riot of influences ricocheting about Omar’s head, and memorialising their departed friend Julio Venegas through Cedric’s magical realist roman-a-clef. It Clouds Hill shouldn’t have worked. But it did, and with that fiendish tightrope act successfully accomplished, the duo stretched the wire even further and higher, over a figurative fiery pit peopled with lions, crocodiles, piranha and other sharp-toothed beasts not yet known to man. Because how do you make great art without taking great risks? Frances The Mute was no De-Loused Part Two. For one thing, the band’s configuration had changed, in the most painful way. Shortly before the release of De- Loused, sound manipulator and founder member Jeremy Michael Ward passed away, a wound Omar says the group never recovered from. But even though his inspired fucking- with-the-sonic-parameters is absent from Frances The Mute, his spirit and influence can still be determined, the album’s concept derived from a diary Ward had encountered in his day-job in repossession. “Jeremy picked up lots of interesting stuff when he was a repo man,” remembers Cedric. “Weird things, including this diary, He let us read it a bunch of times. It was by a guy who’d been adopted and was searching to find his real parents. It was very surreal, it didn’t make much sense – the guy might’ve been schizophrenic – but it was very inspiring. It felt like how certain music helps you escape your boring every-day life. The names and scenes in the diary directly inspired these songs.” Some of the tracks pre-dated De-Loused, having their origins in early demos Omar recorded at the duo’s Long Beach home Anikulapo, songs such as The Widow and Miranda The Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. Cedric had heard these jams in their embryonic state and began working in his mind on what he could bring to them. “I was attracted to The Widow like you would be to a lover, right?” Cedric remembers. “I sang over it with Omar while we were touring De-Loused in Australia on the Big Day Out, like, ‘Okay, I’ve got something for this.’” A potent ballad, laden with emotional crescendos and evoking the epic drama of Ennio Morricone – an effect aided by an elegiac trumpet part performed by Flea – The Widow would become The Mars Volta’s first song to chart on the Billboard Top 100, capturing the album’s potent sorrow and widescreen sprawl in miniature. Indeed, the lush sound of the album, the depth of detail and breadth of instrumentation, belies its grungy roots. Having tasted the luxury of Rick Rubin’s mansion, Omar veered in the opposite direction when recording Frances, cutting the album in what he describes as “a shithole... Basically a warehouse with one little air conditioner on its last legs, awful wiring and a console you couldn’t rely on. We were there night and day – I would literally lock engineer Jon DeBaun in there. He slept on a mattress in the vocal booth.” A considerably more complex and ambitious album than its predecessor – four of its five tracks lasted over ten minutes in length, with its closing epic Cassandra Gemini spanning over half an hour – Frances The Mute wasn’t recorded “live” by an ensemble, but with the individual musicians coming into the “shithole” and recording the parts Omar had scripted for them separately. “They had to have absolute trust in me,” Omar remembers, “Like actors trust their director.” In addition to the core band – now fleshed out with incoming bassist Juan Alderete, and Omar’s brother Marcel on keyboards and percussion – the album featured guitar solos from John Frusciante, saxophone and flute by future member Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales, a full string section, and piano played by Omar’s hero, salsa legend Larry Harlow. “It was a childhood dream come true,” Omar says. “We recorded with him in my hometown in Puerto Rico, and my father flew in to watch the session. Larry was a perfect gentleman, and a very lively spirit.” The album’s fevered intensity infected even the staid string section, Cedric remembers. “When they performed the part on Cassandra Gemini, ’25 wives in the lake tonight’, one of the guys in the orchestra played so hard he broke his bow, this real old, antique bow. And you could see his ‘classical’ side come out – like, ‘I broke this playing a fuckin’ rock song??’ He was pissed off. But I was like, ‘Fuck yeah, man, that’s on the record! You’ve got to realise things like that are cool.’” The album also features field recordings of “the coqui of Puerto Rico” during the opening minutes of Miranda That Ghost Just Isn’t Holy Anymore. “We took a page out of the Grateful Dead’s book there,” laughs Cedric. “They recorded air. We recorded fuckin’ frogs in Puerto Rico.”
We wanted to make a promo text for this release, but then this message by Alphabets Heaven came thru:
Subtitles is my love letter to salsa. A torn, scribbled, badly translated love letter to an old address that the resident left years ago. But fuck it, it's still a love letter.
Every since I heard Larry Harlow's La Cartera about 12 years ago I've been trying to find out as much as I could about salsa. So much of it runs counter to everything I know about dance music, and yet it so clearly bangs. So on and off for the last 10 years I've been buying salsa, trying to work out how many imprints of Fania there were, trying to get my head round the horn arrangements, and generally having a great time with basically no contact with anyone who was actually a part of the culture in anyway. My Spanish is pretty bad as well, so all I really know is quite a few songs are about farmers.
Subtitles is my shot at salsa. My completely uneducated stab at something that's way too complex to just guess at. Not surprisingly, it sounds nothing like salsa. What's weird is that it sounds like pretty much everything else I listen to. I think in many ways it's the most honest thing I've ever made. By completely failing at making salsa I've managed to blend together all the club music, art music and everything else I've loved. You might hear some UK funky, or whatever the 2019 version of that is called. You might hear some minimalism. You might hear some psyched out shit. You also might hear a gigantic fucking mess. Subtitles is a translation to a film done so badly you find out more about the person who translated it than the film. I was trying to tell you about the film, but maybe you'll like the subtitles.
Shout to London Afrobeat Collective for the horns Memotone for the cello Deft for the Woos. Shout out to Scratcha DVA for being Scratcha DVA.
