Maddy on Mac Miller, Frank Ocean, Elliott Smith & more
From gospel and church choirs to a wider world of sounds, Maddy shares the music that shaped his taste.
Growing up in Zambia, Maddy was raised by gospel music. Some of his earliest and fondest memories with music were listening to CeCe Winans and Keith Green with his dad. He eventually came across music outside of the Christian scene, and discovered artists like Lecrae, Andy Mineo, and Tori Kelly, who played a substantial role shaping his taste and appreciation for art.
Maddy joins us on the Weekly Series for the September 16–21 prompts and shares his music journey with us.
What’s a song that gives you goosebumps every single time?
When I want a song with guaranteed goosebumps, I’d go for “FORGONE” by Quadeca. The album it’s on is musically and conceptually layered, with a narrative told through lyrics, symbolism and imagery in a way most people (myself included) haven’t quite fully puzzled together. But what the concept MEANS takes a lot less prominence to how the music FEELS.
There’s a gorgeous layer of piano, choir-stacked vocals and a moving 6/8 pulse to the beat that feels like the swash and backwash of a wave (like the very ocean the album’s ‘character’ is embarking on). It’s a beautiful, ambient and meditative reflection on the constant of death, mortality, and where it all leaves us in the end. It relays its magnitude through sound and emotion in a way anyone privy to the thought and feeling of it (pretty much all of us) can connect with.
He looks back on childhood, his sense of safety and certainty and much like the fumbling efforts of build a life, he accepts death as a part of it, if not bittersweetly. With such a deep topic and a stunning composition, the great unknown has never sounded more humanly captured. I listened to this song and album during a particularly difficult time in my life, and it was a great comfort while I cried and recovered.
Which album feels like the artist at their most honest?
Swimming is easily my pick for an artist at his most honest. Mac had quite the knack for it overall, but there’s something special about how he does it here. At the crux of intertwining artistry and addiction, he offers a glaring, yet compassionate look into himself. “Come Back to Earth” oversees his need and tendency for distance and isolation and “Self Care” measures his desire for escape against his desire for a genuine change and sobriety. On plenty of other songs, he does a very thorough analysis of his proximity to wealth and the insatiable consumption he uses to fill a void.
“Isn’t it funny, you can make a lot of money, buy a lot of things just to feel lotta ugly.” His music inspired me to be honest with myself in a myriad of ways over the years. Mentally, emotionally, or otherwise. He understood the power of not having it together. The beauty and impermanence of emotions. Of figuring it out as you go. And accepting life fully, whether you’re ’winning’ or ‘losing’ all of the same.
What’s a song that quiets your mind when your thoughts won’t stop?
“Satellite” by Elliott Smith has been a very sedative-like song for me lately. It’s the song I go to whenever I need my thoughts quieter. There’s just something I find so spellbinding about it. The soft, airy texture of the strings. Elliott’s soft, sweet and layered vocals. The gorgeous chords and progression he uses throughout.
But most importantly, the way he puts it all together with his uncanny knack for composing and forming really capturing fingerpicking patterns. I’ve fallen asleep to this one on more than one occasion. Just recently, I had a health scare with a very important person in my life, and I came back here pretty often. Between the uncertainty of her condition and the slow droll of sweltering waiting rooms, I found this (and other songs like “Pitseleh”) to be a huge comfort.
For all my anxieties at the time, it was calming (to an extent) to hear him talk about his. I think that’s his greatest strength as an artist. To sit you through hard and heavy emotions in a way that’s as confrontational and comforting.
There’s a lot we go through day to day, year to year. Choices to make, changes to harbour, and a world of feelings and situations to wring through. Elliott makes it feel a little easier, at the very least.
Which artist’s discography do you want to live inside for a month?
Few artists make me feel the way Frank Ocean does. I don’t entirely have to imagine living there-in a way, I already do. Frank’s catalogue is scant in the vain of quantity, but completely full in all others. Take Channel Orange and Blonde, his more popular, accessible releases. You have a range of beautiful sounds, stories, and fugue collections of memory spanning across Frank’s entire life. Nothing feels quite like the intro to “Nikes,” or that beautiful arpeggiated synth segue into “Pyramids” seeding half.
Like “Ivy,” “White Ferrari” and “Forrest Gump” touch a nerve that anyone from anywhere could feel-longing. Beautiful melodies, descriptions and reflections on what it means to lose and (more importantly) have something. In a relationship life, and the innocence of childhood alike. Then you have his other albums, Endless’s resonance and musical ambience the playful taste-making collection of mixtape tracks on Nostalgia, Ultra.
Everything here has a touch of soul which, to this day, they’re as close as we’ll ever get to a mind as beautiful, yet standoffish as Frank’s. A masterclass in alternative and R&B. As amazing as it would be to live in his catalogue, it’s real power lies in where he can take you with it.
What’s an album that opened the door to a new whole world?
An album that opened up worlds for me has to be Back to Black by Amy Winehouse. I remember exactly where I was. 17, in my room, going through a pretty rough patch (as everyone was) during the second, slightly-more-normal year of the pandemic. Amy’s music instantly clicked for me. Her poetic writing, her soulful singing, and the magnanimous sense of charisma she could channel through even in (arguably) the darkest period of her life at the time. But it didn’t stop there.
This was (at the time) the oldest album I had ever listened to. So, I tried more. And within a few years, I listened to hundreds of albums within and across the genres within that decade. I had a new appreciation for Soul and I sank further into adjacent artists. D’Angelo, Corinne Bailey Rae, Jill Scott, you name it. And even further than that lay the artists that inspired (if not directly lent to) her sound on the album. Take the famous Marvin Gaye instrumental on “Tears Dry” or the melody pulled for “He Can Only Hold Her,” my personal favorite. Amy’s music was my window into Soul and my greater curiosity for music as a whole. I still have her to thank for that, 5 years later.
Which song deserves to be rediscovered?
The song (and honestly the album) I’d personally fund the renaissance for is “Bring the Flavor” by Queen Latifah. It’s a slick, energetically charged rap track that, in my opinion, sits up there with some of the best ‘90s hip-hop ever made. Rapping over an organ flourish and knocking drums, she flexes a skillful show of flow, rhyme and vocabulary with everything to prove. As a female emcee (a female anything really) at the time, she had a lot to prove. And prove it she did.
Her verses fire at you with this infectious, rapid delivery that barrels along and breaks itself up in a measured exchange of rap lines and rhythm. She airs out naysayers with an entirely earned command and confidence and, like any rapper, both sells and demonstrates their appeal as a wielder of the craft. There’s a reason Black Reign inspired so many in the art of rap after it. She became a trailblazer for both the women who rapped and the genre in the years after it. You won’t hear her hailed like your 2Pac’s and Coolio’s, but don’t mistake the general silence for lack. She’s done more than enough to prove otherwise.
Beyond the songs he picked for this week’s prompts, Maddy also shared a little more about the experiences, artists, and sounds that shaped his relationship with music.
What did you grow up listening to?
Maddy: Gospel music raised me. I spent a large sum of my life listening pretty much exclusively to it. It taught me a lot. It also sparked the love I currently hold for music, hearing live worship bands and getting lost in the different sounds. The cymbals, the swaying piano keys, the acoustic/electric guitar chords, admiring the way it all struck against each other.
I currently live and grew up in Zambia, the heart of Southern Africa, so the main gateway in music is a spiritual one. Some of my earliest and fondest memories with music were listening to CeCe Winans and Keith Green albums back to back with my Dad behind the wheel. I remember performing a song or two at my local church as well, straight from the CDs he showed me. Throw in a Contemporary Christian album or two and you get the picture. But at some point, between more God-aligned tastes and expectations from the communities around me, my own started to form.
Did you ever go through any specific music phases or periods?
Maddy: I leaned heavily into artists like Lecrae, Andy Mineo, and Tori Kelly during my teenage years. Something about their sound, their faith, and their vulnerability opened something up for me. They pulled from so many sounds, cultures, and inspirations. They were fun. They were loving. But most importantly, they were different. Something I grew to both value and confront about myself in the years that followed.
“Family Photo” by Andy Mineo is a beautiful admission of a resentment he had for his father after he’s stood up by him at his wedding and “IDK” by Trip Lee explores doubt in the faith he predicated his entire career and lifestyle on. Very ugly, “Un-Christian” feelings that, ironically, we were all privy to in some way.
And that, in a larger sense, is what I grew to value in art to this day. The diversity of sound and the unity of experience. My scope for music now is much wider, much fuller (most of it preceding my entire life). But that much is the same. There’s a beauty in the ubiquitous space in the world we all hold. The things we feel. The things we know. The things we can’t say, and the things art lets us. Music, across genres, across time, is beautiful for a host of different reasons. But for me, a lot of it could come down to that.
Nowadays, Maddy is enjoying the ’90s rock/alternative scene, listening to Elliott Smith, Smashing Pumpkins, Hole, Fiona Apple, Jeff Buckley, Spiritualized, and The Tragically Hip.
Madalitso Mwanza is a 22-year-old music lover from Zambia, self-taught on guitar and learning keyboard, with a background in choir and high school music. His taste spans rap, rock, and R&B, with Mac Miller currently holding the top spot among his favorite artists.
