Another Day, Another "Savior"
Alright, folks, settle in. We’re talking about Dijon today. Not the condiment, offcourse, though frankly, some days I think a good dollop of spicy brown is more exciting than half the "vanguards" they try to shove down our throats. No, we're talking about the artist. The one GQ's Frazier Tharpe, bless his optimistic heart, just crowned "the future" after a single concert. The "Milk Carton Call for a Return to Yearning" apparently answered, or so they'd have you believe. Give me a break.
Every damn week, there's a new "next big thing" in music, isn't there? Someone to save R&B, someone to redefine soul, someone who's supposedly pulling from Prince and D'Angelo and Frank Ocean but somehow also sounds like Bon Iver. It’s like they threw a bunch of acclaimed names into a blender, added a dash of obscure indie cred, and out popped a press release. This guy dropped his second album, Baby, to "rapturous reviews" and suddenly he's the answer to all our musical prayers. And get this: Justin Bieber, the Justin Bieber, tapped him as a lead writer on two tracks. If that ain't the ultimate sign of "authenticity," I don't know what is. It’s like saying your homemade `dijon vinaigrette` is gourmet because Gordon Ramsay once ate a salad in the same zip code. Let's be real, the Bieber co-sign is less about artistic merit and more about getting that mainstream buzz. And a cameo in some movie? "Mexican hairless" scene? Sounds like Hollywood's trying to get in on the ground floor too. It’s not a rise; it's a carefully orchestrated media blitz, a `dijon mustard` commercial starring a new face.
The "Live" Experience: More Like a Living Room
So, Tharpe caught the Dijon concert at the Greek Theater, and from his glowing account in Dijon Is the Future, it sounds less like a live show and more like a carefully curated, almost sterile, art installation. Dressed "casually," like he just rolled out of bed to grab a coffee in Silver Lake. Backed by a full band, sure, but "bathed in a pulsating white light" that made it feel "ethereal and futuristic." Ethereal and futuristic? Or just... well, white light? I've seen more dynamic lighting at a high school play. The "no-frills 90-minute set" apparently put the emphasis "squarely on his voice." Which, fine, great. But then he talks about "endearingly funny facial expressions" caught on "frequent extreme closeups on the stageside Jumbotrons."
Wait a second. So, the guy's on stage, but you're mainly watching his face on a big screen? That's not a live experience; that's watching TV. It's like going to a `dijon tour` of France but spending the whole time staring at a postcard. The whole point of a concert, I thought, was to be there, to feel the energy, to see the artist perform, not to watch a glorified music video on a big ass screen. He even admits it himself: "felt like watching a concert on TV cozied up in the living room, not in an outdoor theater among a sea of thousands." Yeah, no kidding. If I wanted to watch TV, I'd stay home. This "magic trick," as he calls it, sounds more like a parlor trick designed to make you think you're having an intimate experience while being one of 5,000. And what about the music itself? He says songs that "build to euphoric crescendos on the track felt contained and withheld in execution." Translation: it was a bit boring live. A `dijon setlist` that holds back? That's not a concert, that's a tease.
Hypnosis or Just a Hype Hangover?
Tharpe describes the audience as "transfixed, almost in a state of hypnosis." Hypnosis, huh? Or maybe just exhausted from trying to figure out if they should be genuinely impressed or just follow the crowd. He calls it "transcendent" and an "insane level for son to be at already on album number two." Insane, or just a testament to how good the PR machine is at creating instant legends? Every record on Baby is "packed with what almost feel like instrumental non-sequiturs." Sounds like a fancy way of saying it's a bit disjointed, but hey, it's "art," right?
He’s doing Terminal 5 next, and Tharpe's "curious to see how the shape of the show changes in an indoor venue." I'm curious too. Will the "magic trick" still work without the open air? Will the `dijon artist` manage to actually connect with the audience without relying on jumbo screens and a "withheld" performance? Look, maybe I'm just a cynical old bastard who prefers his music raw and his `honey dijon` on a sandwich, not as a metaphor for an artist's career trajectory. But this whole "precipice of a big sea change" talk? It’s the same old tune, just with a new face. They want you to "ride the wave while there’s still room." I say, watch from the shore. Waves break. And honestly, this feels like a really big one...
