Mary J. Blige brings the family. Stars of the Lid bring the ambience.
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at Mary J. Blige’s No More Drama (#32) and Stars of the Lid’s The Tired Sounds of Stars of the Lid (#97).
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Stars of the Lid – The Tired Sounds of Stars of the Lid
Brian McBride and Adam Wiltzie didn’t really write songs so much as they built spaces. I don’t mean that in the clichéd way of “you have to listen to what’s happening between the notes,” but also? I kinda do. There are a bazillion people more qualified to assess and review an ambient record, but you’re here with me, a dopamine junkie with the attention span of a fruit fly, and you get to follow along in real time as I try to sit through the antidote of a life lived with 50 tabs open all day, every day.
The Tired Sounds of Stars of the Lid runs two hours long, across two discs, and—to state the obvious—is never in a rush. It just chugs along until everything else around you slows down to match it.
The opener, “Requiem for Dying Mothers,” sounds like an attempt at being cheeky at first, but isn’t. At one point, I caught myself thinking, “This is really nice, like something they’d play at a funeral service that makes everyone feel 1% better about it all.” The follow-up, “Austin Texas Mental Hospital” (these guys have incredible naming conventions), stretches for twenty minutes, and by the halfway point, I started to lose track. I like to scribble down some quick notes for each song as we go, but decided early that was an exercise in futility. Everything just melts together.
For the last competition, someone entered a Pauline Oliveros record, and I had a similar reaction. My internet-addled mind doesn’t know how to sit still, and I made the fatal error of trying to listen to it at work, where the whole point is to keep as many plates in the air as you can. This time, I settled for the much more meditative practice of folding laundry and emptying the dishwasher.
People love to say this stuff takes patience. I’d love to argue that, but in this day and age, it takes a lot to sit down and listen to a record like The Tired Sounds… not because it’s bad (it’s gorgeous), but because we’ve been conditioned to do the opposite. Whatever vertical video is, this is the opposite. It took a good chunk of the record to get there, but it finally got me to do what few records can: sit the F down, listen, and let my mind wander wherever it wanted to go (Oregon in this case, for those keeping score at home).
Mary J. Blige- No More Drama
Every so often, the piano riff from Mary J. Blige’s ‘92 banger, “Real Love,” pops into my head. It’s a nice flashback to when Blige came crashing in out of (seemingly) nowhere with her own take on New Jack Swing and soul, earning her the title Queen of Hip‑Hop Soul. Fast‑forward nine years and a few records, and she’s been through it. The crown’s still there, but No More Drama is her saying, “I’m done with all this hurt.” No More Drama is a record about being done with all the nonsense. Oh, you’re back on your bullshit? Not on Mary’s watch.
This record feels like a recap of her therapy sessions. You can hear the exhaustion, but you can feel something resembling relief, too. “Family Affair” is the obvious anchor — if you don’t think you’ve heard it, yes, you have. If you went to a basketball game anytime between 2001 and, say, 2010, there’s 110% chance it was played. It’s a banger too; It hit number one for a reason.
Across the record, Blige leaves heartbreak and angst in the rearview mirror and steers toward resolution. The title track samples “Nadia’s Theme” from The Young and the Restless and levels up the melodrama. Mary starts soft, then burns through the mix, turning years of frustration into something close to catharsis. “Dance for Me” samples The Police’s “The Bed’s Too Big Without You,” keeping that mix of past and present going, and was a nice surprise for me.
No More Drama marks the start of Blige’s second act, and was full of ‘em.
Bottom Line:
This is a matchup between loud and quiet, or the space(s) in between and reclaiming one’s space. My love for mary J. Blige is real. My vote and my pick are going to No More Drama.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Kevin Sent 
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