The breeziness of Miguel.
Sex, a cup of coffee the morning after, a quality bag of weed: as the thirty-two-year-old Los Angeles R. & B. singer Miguel puts it, in a single from 2014, it is the “simple-things” that make life worthwhile. Miguel has made a career out of finding creative ways to render small pleasures in sound. But, unlike many of his colleagues in the sex-anthem industry, there’s a quality to his freakiness that feels bounded, almost safe. There are limits to yearning for its own sake. He sings with a teasing and flirty confidence, yet there’s always a sense of calm and self-control. Where others treat sex as conquest, he plays the part of the dutiful full-service lover. Indeed, he somehow managed to make a song called “The Pussy Is Mine,” from “Kaleidoscope Dream” (2012), sound gentle and soulful, and not at all grabby.
There’s been a steady push and pull to Miguel’s career. When his début album, “All I Want Is You,” was released, in 2010, after a legal dispute between his record label and production company had kept it shelved for two years, it seemed reasonable to believe that he might never find the audience that his talents merited. The record was stylistically promiscuous, full of R. & B. songs that borrowed from alternative rock and electronic music, all of it lunging for some kind of distant, post-genre future. “Kaleidoscope Dream” was a more grounded affair, as Miguel grew more literal about the earthiness of his desires. The album was driven by the single “Adorn,” which sounds like a slightly hurried take on Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing,” shorn of Gaye’s neediness. His last album, “Wildheart,” from 2015, experimented with structure, trading in catchy hooks for lavish, psychedelic sounds.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der December 18 - 25,2017-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
Bereits Abonnent ? Anmelden
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der December 18 - 25,2017-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
Bereits Abonnent? Anmelden
GET IT TOGETHER
In the beginning was the mob, and the mob was bad. In Gibbon’s 1776 “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,” the Roman mob makes regular appearances, usually at the instigation of a demagogue, loudly demanding to be placated with free food and entertainment (“bread and circuses”), and, though they don’t get to rule, they sometimes get to choose who will.
GAINING CONTROL
The frenemies who fought to bring contraception to this country.
REBELS WITH A CAUSE
In the new FX/Hulu series “Say Nothing,” life as an armed revolutionary during the Troubles has—at least at first—an air of glamour.
AGAINST THE CURRENT
\"Give Me Carmelita Tropicana!,\" at Soho Rep, and \"Gatz,\" at the Public.
METAMORPHOSIS
The director Marielle Heller explores the feral side of child rearing.
THE BIG SPIN
A district attorney's office investigates how its prosecutors picked death-penalty juries.
THIS ELECTION JUST PROVES WHAT I ALREADY BELIEVED
I hate to say I told you so, but here we are. Kamala Harris’s loss will go down in history as a catastrophe that could have easily been avoided if more people had thought whatever I happen to think.
HOLD YOUR TONGUE
Can the world's most populous country protect its languages?
A LONG WAY HOME
Ordinarily, I hate staying at someone's house, but when Hugh and I visited his friend Mary in Maine we had no other choice.
YULE RULES
“Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point.”