The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
‘Ice Cream’ and more new songs
■ Blackpink with Selena Gomez, ‘Ice Cream’
The sweet spot at the intersection of Selena Gomez and K-pop stars Blackpink involves singing that’s a little playful, a little taunting, a little distant. “Ice Cream” is all of those things, a relentlessly bouncy and chipper song about being the object of other people’s hunger.
■ Dumpstaphunk, ‘Where Do We Go From Here’
Ivan Neville’s commanding New Orleans funk band, Dumpstaphunk, marks the 15th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina with “Where Do We Go From Here,” only to have Hurricane Laura hit Louisiana last week; lately, Neville has also been livestreaming from his home while recovering from COVID-19. The new song’s lyrics aren’t particularly pointed: “Let’s take it slow, no fear,” it counsels, adding, “It all comes down to love.” But the full-band groove — with horns, backup singers, Neville’s organ and Dumpstaphunk’s deepin-the-pocket rhythm section, including two basses — infuses a slinky funk backbeat with gospel determination and the will to persevere for a steamy eight-minute jam.
■ Cam’ron, ‘ … 50 bars … ’ Freestyle
Some al fresco rapping from Cam’ron — still a mercilessly precise rapper at 44 — filmed in a Harlem, New York, parking lot, prompted by a friend’s nudging and posted on Instagram. The rhymes are spry and wry: “Y’all know Harlem belong to me/I don’t want it, it’s too gentrified/I’m from the era of genocide, bodies are unidentified, alibis are memorized.”
■ Billy Strings, ‘Watch It Fall’ The jaunty, old-fashioned bluegrass bounce and close-harmony choruses of “Watch It Fall” belie the bitter resignation of the lyrics, as flat-picking guitar virtuoso Billy Strings sings about converging catastrophes: inequality, corruption, global warming. “How long until there’s nothing left at all?” he wonders, and all the filigreed acoustic improvisation around him is no answer.
■ Nao featuring Lianne La Havas, ‘Woman’
The victorious assurance of “Woman” comes through in its unhurried backbeat, in the shimmery tones that usher in the chorus and in the unpatterned, utterly cooperative way Lianne La Havas and the higher-voiced Nao share and trade bits of both verses and choruses. “Take my mirror out the bag and fill it with confidence,” Nao sings; “A woman’s worth is everything without you, baby,” La Havas adds. There’s no need to be combative; they’ve won.
■ Kelly Lee Owens, ‘On’ On her album released Friday, “Inner Song,” Welsh songwriter Kelly Lee Owens uses the chilly, artificial electronic vocabulary of techno for songs about love: strained, lost, possibly found anew. In “On,” she stacks up choirlike vocals as she moves on from a romance: “We can’t go forward,” she decides, as a double time club beat ticks quietly behind her. But three minutes into the song, the throbbing bass line suddenly cranks up, staggered against programmed hi-hats, a blooping synthesizer line and cascading, wordless vocals; she can dance her way free.