Apr 23, 2016

Chino y Nacho - Andas En Mi Cabeza ft. Daddy Yankee

Chino & Nacho Ft. Daddy Yankee
They are winners of a Grammy Latino, several international awards and in 2012 receive the keys of Miami in recognition of his musical work, effort that has enabled them to become one of the Venezuelan art groups with the highest circulation worldwide.

Chino & Nacho is a Venezuelan duo of tropical music, merengue and Latin pop, composed of "Chinoright (Jesus Alberto Miranda Pérez) and "Nacho" left (Miguel Ignacio Mendoza Donatti). Both young debuted as reggaeton performers then try other sounds of tropical music. Also they are participating in the Venezuelan reality show "Generation S". It was after his involvement with the group Calle Ciega Chino y Nacho decided to start a career as a duo. Throughout their career they have collaborated with numerous national and international artists. Also, there have been large cultural and sports events of Venezuela as is the International Fair of Barquisimeto, The International Fair of the Virgin of Chiquinquirá, Miss Venezuela, the International Fair of the Sun, the Orchid Festival, League Professional Baseball Venezuela and the America's Cup in 2007. The Venezuelan duo has been awarded several international awards such as the Latin Grammy, the torches of Silver and Gold Festival of Vina del Mar and the keys of Miami, who recognize their own effort to achieve becoming one of Venezuela's artistic groups with the highest circulation worldwide.

Mar 27, 2016

Work Rihanna Featuring Drake

The Problem With Prolonged ANTIcipation: Let’s Talk About Rihanna’s ‘Work’

Rihanna’s ANTI era is finally upon us. Was it worth the wait?
Nearly every time I write about Rihanna, I feel compelled to include the following tidbit: From 2005 through 2012, Rihanna released a new album every year. (She did not, technically, release a new album in 2008, but she did put out a re-release of 2007’s Good Girl Gone Bad, which included several new songs, two of which hit No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. So, you know, it hardly counts as a  year off.) After 2012’s Unapologetic, though, the singer took a break from releasing music and instead focused on building her brand. Funnily enough, not releasing an album for three years didn’t slow Rihanna down; she became an even bigger name than she was before owing to her status as a fashion icon, her social media presence, her many tabloid exploits, and her partnerships. Still, predictably, fans and critics eventually began wondering when we’d hear new music from the woman with 13 No. 1 hits to her name. It certainly seemed that we’d finally, finally have a new album in 2015, but the year came and went with nothing more than three underwhelming singles. (In her announcement this morning, Rihanna called “Work” her first single from ANTI, and therefore, despite “FourFiveSeconds,” “Bitch Better Have My Money,” and “American Oxygen,” none of which are guaranteed to be included on ANTI, I am forced to acknowledge “Work” as the album’s official lead single.)

Maybe you feel that the story of how ANTI came to be (and when it eventually sees release, though word is that it will be out this very week) shouldn’t matter so long as the music’s good. I both agree and disagree. Ultimately, the music is what matters. The problem now is that we are finally hearing the music, allowing it to speak for itself, and one is left wrestling with the following question: did this really take three years (and eight writers!!!) to arrive at this? Had we waited the traditional year for this single, it would have been much easier to swallow. Instead, after years of waiting and false starts and frustration, the less-than-exciting “Work,” which features Rihanna’s friend, the Meme King Drake, feels like an especially big let down. Whether it blows up and becomes yet another smash remains to be seen, but taken as it is, a song separate from its potential chart position, it is no “Umbrella,” it is no “We Found Love,” it is no “Diamonds.”

Mar 26, 2016

Justin Bieber - Love Yourself

Like Justin Timberlake before him, former teen star Justin Bieber is transitioning into manhood with the surgical aid of producers drawn from pop’s more nocturnal and urban realms. Nearly three years in the making, Purpose fully repositions the troubled child star as a breathy R&B loverman, his edge whetted further since Journals, his previous R&B-flavoured compilation offering (2013). One ear is cocked hard to the sophisticated confessionals of fellow Canadians Drake and the Weeknd, the other to the dancefloor.

PURPOSE : The Movement
A Short Film

Created by Justin Bieber, Parris Goebel and Scott "Scooter" Braun

Director: Parris Goebel
Production Companies: SB Projects and Bieber Time Films
Executive Producers: Justin Bieber and Scott "Scooter" Braun
Producers: Justin Bieber, Scott "Scooter" Braun, Parris Goebel, and Allison Kaye
Associate Producer: Cori Weber
Shoot Coordinator: Cyndi Dumo
Filmed and Edited By: Jose Omar Hernandez
Colorist: Arianna Pane
Big Thanks: Brett Goebel
Choreographers: Keone and Mari Madrid
Dancers: Keone and Mari Madrid
Written By: Ed Sheeran, Benjamin Levin, and Justin Bieber
Published By: Ed Sheeran Limited / Sony/ATV Music Publishing (UK) Limited (PRS), Please Don't Forget To Pay Me Music / Administered by Universal Music Publishing (GRM), and Bieber Time Publishing / Universal Music (ASCAP)
Produced By: Benny Blanco for Matza Ball Productions, Inc.


Feb 20, 2016

Rihanna - ANTI

Part of Rihanna’s appeal is aspirational: survey the photographic evidence, and she seems to spend a pretty good chunk of her time wearing jewelry on yachts, smoking terrifically robust marijuana cigarettes, and making goofball faces at jokers trying to stealth-snap pics of her as she parties deep into the night.

Yet somehow, those hijinks don’t lessen her seriousness; they merely amplify it. Rihanna’s sureness regarding her presence in the world—in the work that she’s made, in the ways in which she has earned the right to palm a cocktail and chill on a beach—is bold and motivating, like Actual Confidence always is. Hearing her deliver a line like "Don’t act like you forgot/ I call the shot-shot-shots" (from 2015’s "Bitch Better Have My Money") with a kind of preternatural calm—it’s hard to imagine anything ever feeling better than that. It is hard to imagine anyone inhabiting a pop career with more ease or aplomb.

Still, ANTI—her very-long-awaited eighth LP—arrived tentatively, almost meekly. The build-up, of course, was extraordinary. There’d been rascally fake-outs, three singles (none of which made it onto the actual album), whole social media accounts teasing its release. Then, last Wednesday afternoon, a track listing appeared (that a gang of disembodied song titles still constitutes a noteworthy breach surely indicates something about our desperate times), followed by the announcement that ANTI would be streaming exclusively on Tidal for its first week of release (who cares)—two meager dribbles of intel that were quickly overshadowed, perhaps rightly, by Kanye West hollering about pants.
Then, suddenly, the album appeared in full. Anyone hoping its delayed release might suggest something about its ambition, that the three-years-in-the-making ANTI might be Rihanna’s opus, a grand declaration of intent, is likely to be underwhelmed. ANTI is a rich and conflicted pop record, at its most interesting when it’s at its most idiosyncratic. It’s not crammed with bloodthirsty, dance-oriented jams and feels distinctly smaller, more inward-facing than her previous records, as if it were intended as a kind of spiritual stock-taking, a moment of reckoning for both Rihanna and her fans. Her grainy, mesmerizing voice is paramount here, the sun in ANTI’s universe, the thing everything else orbits: "I got to do things my own way, darling," she announces over a stuttering, distorted beat in opener "Consideration," a prickly collaboration with the R&B singer SZA. The sentiment feels deliberately placed, meant as a way to read everything that follows.
Ironically, if the album has a narrative arc buried underneath the fuck-off, broad-strokes empowerment now so omnipresent on pop radio, it’s about disappointment: The ways in which the people you trust can still come up short in the end, and how catastrophically lonesome that can feel. It’s also about self-isolation, and how being good at being on your own ("I can be a lone wolf," she sings on "Desperado," her vocals deep, crackly) can become its own kind of albatross, a cage that bars from the inside.
The dancehall and dub-indebted single "Work" hints at an intimacy in what is otherwise a fairly transactional Rihanna single: Drake is here, sounding weirdly buttoned-up and too articulate, like a grown man wandering onto the beach in a pair of ill-fitting jeans. The hook is Rihanna babbling about getting it done—"work-work-work-work-work-work"—her vocals devolving into something more instinctive than language, as if it gushed forth from some underground spring instead of her throat. But the words suggest that another Rihanna, a more wounded and wary version, is hovering nearby.
Do we need access to that girl? Maybe not—there’s plenty here that feels high-stakes and revealing. Rihanna talks more convincingly about sex than almost any other pop star, and some of ANTI’s most striking tracks are also its nastiest: "Love on the Brain" is a retro-leaning doo-wop jam with a crew of backing vocalists that takes an unexpected turn toward the dark: "It beats me black and blue, but it fucks me so good," Rihanna chants, her voice suddenly flinty. Her deployment of "it" feels deliberate, painting her partner as a disembodied force, less a person than a ghost she can’t escape.
"Yeah, I Said It," co-written and co-produced by Timbaland, is a crawling, steamy ode to two people slamming up against a wall (literally): "Yeah, I said it, boy, get up inside it/ I want you to homicide it," Rihanna purrs over a sparse, hazy beat. "Never Ending," which nicks a vocal melody from Dido’s "Thank You," is a gooey, vulnerable dirge that reiterates how Rihanna experiences love, how it helps her navigate and recognize her physical self, the way she feels its absence physically: "I knew your face once, but now it’s unclear," she sings. "And I can’t feel my body now."
But it’s "Higher," the record’s penultimate track—it really should be its coda—a two-minute imploration to a distant lover, asking him to just come over, already, that feels the most revelatory. The track was co-written by Bibi Bourelly, the 20-year-old electropop artist from Berlin who also wrote "Bitch Better Have My Money." "This whiskey got me feelin’ pretty, so pardon if I’m impolite," Rihanna sings, her voice raked, raspy, desperate over collapsing strings. Whatever had been holding her together until then—it broke. "I wanna go back to the old way," she admits. "But I’m drunk and still with a full ashtray, with a little bit too much to say." And then, as if it had never happened—as if she deleted the text, pulled the blankets up and went to sleep—the song ends, unresolved.

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