The final act features a fractured, distant view of Kanye that can be downright alarming at times. (GQ)
If Vince Staples wasn’t an artist, he’d be a boxer. He weaves his way through conversations with gentle jabs at the industry and its obligations, then lands haymakers about trusting his intuition. (032c)
Dweller: Forever and Always
The New York City festival's revelatory third edition signaled its nationwide reputation as an essential meeting point for anyone invested in Black electronic music's past, present and future. (Resident Advisor)
From Emmylou Harris to Moodymann to recordings of the Rarámuri, his picks and the stories behind them are deep, vast, and fun. (Ghostly)
The Photographer Celebrating London’s Council Houses
From Brutalist blocks to Modernist towers, Jack Young’s new book featuring portraits of 68 of the capital’s most revered council house schemes recasts these buildings in a new light. (Huck)
Zora J. Murff Is Using Photography as a Tool for Liberation
True Colors, the photographer's expansive new monograph, is a personal exploration of Blackness in America. (i-D)
The Red Clay of Central Africa
This week, a dispatch from Our Man in West Africa. (Racquet)
The New York-based artist has built sculptures out of Cheetos and the White House made entirely out of McDonald’s french fries. (It's Nice That)
Mike Mills, Self-Archivist
Tyler Watamanuk on Mike Mills as a careful cataloger of his own wide-ranging oeuvre. (Dirt)
Artist Tyrrell Winston on Throwing Fits. (Spotify)
Patrik Sandberg drops in to tell us about shoegaze anti-hits, Hollywood tell-alls, his 1999 BMW 323i convertible in black, and more. (Perfectly Imperfect)
The little known story of Memphis’s second coming. (Pin-Up)
Six New Brands I’ve Been Watching
For the past few years, I’ve been doing annual roundups on new brands I find to be interesting. To be sure, not all of them are new - many have been around for years - but they’re new to me. (Die, Workwear!)
Beauty is no longer just about looking pretty - it’s about expressing an identity, even if that identity is a gigantic dirtbag. (GQ)
