Dear listeners,
On Wednesday night, I witnessed something that I never expected to see: a live performance by the mysterious British vocalist and producer Jai Paul.
Paul’s music — full of glitches, strangely compressed sounds and spliced-together samples — is unmistakably a product of the digital age, yet his artistic persona could not be further from the era of social-media oversharing and streaming-service savvy. He has given one known interview, in 2011. His only full-length release was leaked, unfinished, in 2013; although it was rapturously received, the intrusion led him to suffer what he later described in a statement as “a breakdown of sorts.” After that, he retreated even further from the public eye, and didn’t officially release his album, “Leak 04-13 (Bait Ones)” — on which most tracks were still labeled “unfinished” — for six more years.
What is it that enthralls us about a musical enigma? Paul’s story reminds me of other artists who have eschewed the spotlight to toil in anonymity (like the reclusive yet wildly prolific folk musician Jandek), as well as those who have chosen, much to the consternation of a rabid fan base, never to follow up a beloved record (like Neutral Milk Hotel, the band behind the adored 1998 indie-rock landmark “In the Aeroplane Over the Sea” — and then not really anything else).
The faster culture moves, the more we seem to revere these artists who have opted out of the musical rat race. We are bombarded each day with such a glut of information — so many songs imploring to be heard; so many links baiting us to click — that there is a relief in encountering a finite discography or an artist who forgoes the traditional promotional routines in favor of letting the art stand on its own.
That was certainly apparent at the Jai Paul concert, which was only his fourth live show ever. His return was subdued in every sense — he didn’t tease the concerts with any new material, and there was an endearing awkwardness to his stage presence — but the audience respected that. In a way, we were all there to thank him for his reticence, his increasingly rare refusenik stance, and, of course, the enduring mystery of his music.
Today’s playlist is a tribute to artists like Paul: an appropriately fleeting, gently melancholy collections of tracks from artists who have cultivated a certain mystique. In addition to Paul and Neutral Milk Hotel, it features the long-lost (and finally found, thanks to the Oscar-winning documentary “Searching for Sugarman”) singer-songwriter Rodriguez; the shadowy, shape-shifting R&B collective Sault; and the eventually unmasked but still cryptic British electronic musician Burial. It does not include Jandek, because it is possible to be so elusive that your albums are not on any streaming services.
Listen along here on Spotify as you read.
1. Jai Paul: “Str8 Outta Mumbai”
The first proper song on Paul’s only album is a kinetic explosion of textures centered around an exhilarating sample of Vani Jairam’s “Bala Main Bairagan Hoongi,” which she wrote with Ravi Shankar. He closed his live show on Wednesday with it, and it was the unquestionable highlight of the set. (Listen on YouTube)
2. Neutral Milk Hotel: “Holland, 1945”
A crashing, calamitous tear-jerker from the underground hero Jeff Mangum’s 1998 opus, “Holland, 1945” had a brief moment in the mainstream in 2014 when Stephen Colbert chose it, in tribute to his late family members, as the final song played on “The Colbert Report.” (Listen on YouTube)
3. Rodriguez: “Crucify Your Mind”
For decades, a macabre rumor swirled that the Detroit-born folk singer Sixto Rodriguez had died onstage. In Malik Bendjelloul’s remarkable 2012 documentary, “Searching for Sugarman,” he discovered that Rodriguez was not only still alive, but that he was huge in South Africa. Better late than never, the film inspired a much-deserved Rodriguez revival. (Listen on YouTube)
4. Sault: “Wildfires”
The prolific R&B collective Sault lets its music speak for itself: no interviews, no press photos, no music videos. It’s not entirely clear who is in Sault. What is clear is that it makes passionate, purposeful and hypnotic tunes that give voice to collective struggle, like “Wildfires,” a soulful meditation on police brutality that appears on its harrowing 2020 album “Untitled (Black Is).” (Listen on YouTube)
5. Burial: “Street Halo”
“I’m a low-key person and I just want to make some tunes, nothing else,” Will Bevan wrote on Myspace in 2008, when he “came out” as the anonymous but influential producer Burial. (He broke a certain corner of the internet six years later, when he posted a selfie.) From his closely guarded realm of privacy, though, the London artist has released a steady stream of moody, brooding electronic music, including this rain-streaked title track from the 2011 EP “Street Halo.” (Listen on YouTube)
6. Jai Paul: “Jasmine (Demo)”
The stuttering production and hiccuping vocals of “Jasmine (Demo),” Paul’s second single, convey an introversion suffused with incredible longing. Like a lot of Paul’s best music, there’s a sonic shyness about it, but also a deep undercurrent of tenderness. (Listen on YouTube)
I was born for the purpose that crucifies your mind,
Lindsay
The Amplifier Playlist
Listen on Spotify. We update this playlist with each new newsletter.
“Magical Mystery Musicians” track list
Track 1: Jai Paul, “Str8 Outta Mumbai”
Track 2: Neutral Milk Hotel, “Holland, 1945”
Track 3: Rodriguez, “Crucify Your Mind”
Track 4: Sault, “Wildfires”
Track 5: Burial, “Street Halo”
Track 6: Jai Paul, “Jasmine (Demo)”
Bonus tracks
New newsletter alert! Madison Malone Kircher, whose story about Taylor Swift merch I linked to in last week’s Amplifier, has just introduced a weekly missive about all things internet called It Happened Online. The first installment is out today, and it is outrageously fun. Subscribe here.
I went back and forth on which Rodriguez song to include, and at the last minute, I went with “Crucify Your Mind.” But you should also listen to the one I almost chose, the poetic and heartbreaking “Cause.”
“Tuesday night at Knockdown Center in Queens, nearly 2,000 people were handed something fragile and entrusted — implicitly implored — not to break it.” On Tuesday night, my colleague Jon Caramanica went to the first of Jai Paul’s two New York shows and wrote an excellent review. I also enjoyed Jia Tolentino’s report for The New Yorker, in which she wrote, astutely, “Paul’s overall vibe was that of a time traveler. He had been ahead of the past decade of music, and now he was playing a 10-year-anniversary nostalgia show that was also his debut.”
And if you’re looking for even more music recommendations, this week’s Playlist has new tracks from Jack Harlow, Jessie Ware, Four Tet and more.
