Hello London…
[Video]
[6.75]
Brad Shoup: To listen to hip-hop is to come to grips with its exceptionalism. I’m the one jamming needles into pop culture’s eyes; I’m the one flooding the streets with crack; I’m the one bringing the mystical knowledge — and always: I’m the one in charge of this city. Haze annexes Fashion Week into her realm, and while it scans like an odd place to plant one’s flag — especially if you don’t, you know, have a line — it’s just one part of her lonely empire. “Everybody sing this song,” she demands at the end. No one responds. There’s an image of her furiously dancing solo, and it’s great. (Aladdin and Jasmine better not get comfortable.) Her grandest vision, though, is musical: those head-cold synths, the cod-romantic crawling hook, the mixture of carnival ping and high-pitched vocal snippet midway through. It’s like being an artist is ceasing to be a chore for her.
[7]
Alfred Soto: I haven’t gotten tired of Haze’s penchant for speeding up at the end of a line, some of which are as good as “I’m in the new-school G5 wagon, color Komodo dragon/ My bitch look like she Jasmine, my nigga look like Aladdin.” When it goes all “meditative” on the chorus with sunshine-on-water harmonies, it’s what an upper echelon sounds like.
[8]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: If the heightened presence of countless pop-up shops in London are meant to tell me anything, it’s that Fashion Week is close. As a clothing showcase, it’s good; as cultural moment, it’s great. The allure of Fashion Week, with its divide of public visibility and status-obsessed exclusivity, has led to it being more of a hip-hop thing than ever before. Think of Nicki’s can’t-believe-it yelping from the front row: “I’m really sitting with Anna!” Angel Haze turns it into just another boast, missing the chance to find something special in the experience, like Nicki sitting with Ms. Wintour. Instead, she puffs out her chest and drops the term “fashion week” to a Tourretic degree, does the same with the word “bitch” and misguidingly raps “lyrical biblical” like bozoriffic backpackers never went out of style. She raps — as always — like she has something to prove, but “Echelon” proves she has little worth giving.
[2]
Anthony Easton: The cat at the house I am staying at was terrified of this — he just looked at me and asked me why I was playing it. The other cat started shaking his ass. I like the second cat’s reaction.
[7]
Iain Mew: There are no lyrical or technical fireworks to match previous singles, but Angel Haze is always unpredictable and engaging, and now she’s got a track to match. The transition to the chorus alone smoothly fits more moods into five seconds than most songs fit in their entire running time. Going from “I’m on that fuck what you say, it’s my way” through menacing guitar rattle into “Fashion Week I’m out there slaying” over fuzzy technicolour synths is the sound of all your concerns in life happily melting away.
[9]
Patrick St. Michel: Way too busy for its own good, Angel Haze has her lyrical moments here but she works best against something a bit less candy-coated.
[5]
Crystal Leww: Angel Haze’s tracks were starting to blend together; it’s not that she’s not an extremely talented rapper, but production and flow-wise, they were all similar sounding. This is not the case with “Echelon (It’s My Way)” at all. That hook is out of control amazing.
[8]
Cédric Le Merrer: While “Echelon” is obviously not about old-fashioned industrial modes of production, I’d love to pitch for a Pacific Rim-themed video. Both movie and song are huge, stylish, technically impressive, and there’s only room for one woman in their respective universes.
[8]