Songs You Need In Your Life: March 2024

Over a woozy flip of Moby’s “Porcelain,” Shawny spits in his quietly husky voice, even dabbling in a little French. Jwles’ flow is slithery and nimble, but his most catchy bars are legible even to those who don’t know the language. — Nadine Smith, from the March 1 edition of Rap Blog

Brazilian piano virtuoso Amaro Freitas has proven himself a revelatory soloist, showing the instrument’s versatility by pivoting on a dime from rich jazz voicings to percussive attacks (see his inspired live performance of “Dança dos Martelos” for a visceral demonstration). Side A of his new album Y’Y comprises five towering, solitary tracks, but the back half of the record finds him in a much more pliant mode. Kicking off a run of four excellent collaborative cuts, the project’s title track is a collaboration with London woodwind shapeshifter Shabaka, and Freitas lets his partner lead. The track opens with flute and sung vocals, and when Freitas’s piano finally does enter, it’s as a shadowy, atonal entity. Only in the song’s final two minutes do the instruments enter into a more traditional duet, punctuated by jarring slams of hammer-on-string. Inspired by the meeting of the Solimões and Negro rivers outside the northwestern Brazilian city of Manaus, “Y’Y” feels in some moments like a violent collision, in others like a tender embrace. — Raphael Helfand

Stan culture is an exhausting and toxic force within the music industry, eating away at its structure like a pernicious form of rust. I’m wary of engaging with any art that incorporates it, even ironically, thanks to a near-constant exposure to its effects daily. Two Shell, however, have found a way to break down my barrier. Named after one of the members of the K-pop supergroup BTS — you’ve probably seen “Jungkook” trending at No. 1 worldwide on Twitter at some point — the new single from the usually tricky duo (known for filling dancefloors with their wonky electro bangers, and occasionally sending imposters to perform at shows) isn’t made with a knowing wink. Instead, Two Shell opt for a stripped-down piano ballad where the lead vocals sound like a plea from behind a computer screen. The song succeeds because it sounds like standom no doubt feels like to so many: pure and passionate longing. — Jordan Darville