jeremih late nights album m4a download Late Nights: The Album [Deluxe Download] The great magnitude of Jeremih's extracurricular successes, combined with slips the singer pinned on himself and his label, made the five-year separation between All About You and Late Nights: The Album an odd one. Jeremih wasn't inactive between his second and third proper albums. He accessorized Top Ten R&B/Hip-Hop singles headlined by Wale, Meek Mill, DJ Khaled, and Natalie La Rose. Late Nights with Jeremih and a collaborative EP with Shlohmo, released as free downloads, went over well. In 2014, "Don't Tell 'Em" -- a bleeping, Snap!-interpolating collaboration with DJ Mustard -- went double platinum without a video to promote it, and it was followed in 2015 by the spacious, salacious "Planes," another platinum hit. All the while, Jeremih disowned his earlier smashes, and elusive album three was repeatedly delayed. And then, in December 2015, Late Nights: The Album suddenly appeared. As late as three days prior to its release, there was no mention of it on any of Jeremih's social media accounts, which were seemingly misaligned, their header images pushing different singles. Despite the winding path that led to it, Late Nights is together, neither tentative nor overcooked. It's apparently truer to Jeremih's vision than his first two albums, though only the most attentive listening reveals an artist with more dimensions -- or more vocal ability -- than the one who sang "Birthday Sex" and "Down on Me." His approach remains mostly about sly and stoned hooks, and the subject matter largely sticks to getting laid and high, typically in explicit and uninventive form, with only small traces of the "church feeling" he has said he can supply. Even if he sang lines like "When you put that ass on my face, feel like I'm 'bout to drown" in his falsetto with maximum conviction, there would be no mistaking him for Philip Bailey. Somewhat surprisingly, Mick Schultz, who was involved in the entirety of the first two albums, is credited as co-composer of only three cuts here -- including "Don't Tell 'Em" -- and the succession of guest artists is so long that it becomes disruptive. Jeremih nonetheless delivers enough slightly quavering, somewhat vulnerable sounding NC-17 and X-rated lines to keep ears perked. Late Nights: The Album. The great magnitude of Jeremih's extracurricular successes, combined with slips the singer pinned on himself and his label, made the five-year separation between All About You and Late Nights: The Album an odd one. Jeremih wasn't inactive between his second and third proper albums. He accessorized Top Ten R&B/Hip-Hop singles headlined by Wale, Meek Mill, DJ Khaled, and Natalie La Rose. Late Nights with Jeremih and a collaborative EP with Shlohmo, released as free downloads, went over well. In 2014, "Don't Tell 'Em" -- a bleeping, Snap!-interpolating collaboration with DJ Mustard -- went double platinum without a video to promote it, and it was followed in 2015 by the spacious, salacious "Planes," another platinum hit. All the while, Jeremih disowned his earlier smashes, and elusive album three was repeatedly delayed. And then, in December 2015, Late Nights: The Album suddenly appeared. As late as three days prior to its release, there was no mention of it on any of Jeremih's social media accounts, which were seemingly misaligned, their header images pushing different singles. Despite the winding path that led to it, Late Nights is together, neither tentative nor overcooked. It's apparently truer to Jeremih's vision than his first two albums, though only the most attentive listening reveals an artist with more dimensions -- or more vocal ability -- than the one who sang "Birthday Sex" and "Down on Me." His approach remains mostly about sly and stoned hooks, and the subject matter largely sticks to getting laid and high, typically in explicit and uninventive form, with only small traces of the "church feeling" he has said he can supply. Even if he sang lines like "When you put that ass on my face, feel like I'm 'bout to drown" in his falsetto with maximum conviction, there would be no mistaking him for Philip Bailey. Somewhat surprisingly, Mick Schultz, who was involved in the entirety of the first two albums, is credited as co-composer of only three cuts here -- including "Don't Tell 'Em" -- and the succession of guest artists is so long that it becomes disruptive. Jeremih nonetheless delivers enough slightly quavering, somewhat vulnerable sounding NC-17 and X-rated lines to keep ears perked. Jeremih: Late Nights: The Album. Jeremih’s music exudes sex. On his most recent album, Late Nights: The Album , the Chicagoan suavely proves the power of euphemistic propositions: in Jeremih’s world, sex is treated with a sort of debonair elegance, always insinuated but never explicitly invoked. He’s never merely having sex; he’s “put[ting her] in the mile-high club” (“Planez”), he’s asking her to “leave with [him] tonight” (“Drank”), he’s “do[ing] her body right” (“I Did”). In other words, what Jeremih is doing is nothing less than the ever-romantic “making love”. The rappers Jeremih features on Late Nights are more explicit about what they do. Everyone from J. Cole to Twista to Future pointedly and deliberately invokes not just sex itself but the specific acts involved. Ty Dolla $ign’s invitation to “have you suckin’ on my fingers while I hit it” and J. Cole’s boast that his “dick so big it’s like a foot is in [her] mouth” are the most clearly delineated examples of sex here, but most of the rappers’ verses are of similar caliber. If Jeremih is making love, the rappers are straight-up fucking . Of course, neither attitude is inherently unsatisfactory, and both implying sex and straightforwardly describing it have their places. However, in the case of Late Nights: The Album , the contrast is jarring. After falling into the rhythm of Jeremih’s crooning, it’s uncomfortable to hear the tone of the song shift so drastically upon the guest’s entrance. Though there are likely dozens of possible explanations as to why these two approaches are so incompatible, the most probable one is this: by refusing to engage head-on with sex, Jeremih imbues it with power. His reverent depictions of physical love inspire awe towards the act, the same way that refusing to discuss a banned book inspires curiosity or (if you’ll allow me to compare sex to Harry Potter for a moment) refusing to say Voldemort’s name inspires fear. Jeremih makes sex out to be much, much more than the sum of its parts, and that ability to paint the act as all- consuming and vital is quite possibly this album’s biggest strength. By describing sex in such specific detail, Big Sean and the like remove the aura of mystery in which Jeremih has so painstakingly shrouded the focal point of the album. And, again, to say that describing sex is without exception evil would be puritanical and totally out-of-place for the discussion of an R&B record, but in this case so much of the magic of Late Nights is due to the care with which making love is treated. In much the same way that, according to feminist writer Helen Marshall, ”bodies diminish… when stripped”, the guest verses on Late Nights strip away the allure and mystique of sex. To continue the earlier analogies, the rap features are to Jeremih as a critically-annotated version of Mein Kampf is to an outright ban or as Dumbledore is to the rest of the wizarding world. Unfortunately, so much of Late Nights: The Album is devoted to building up Jeremih’s attitude towards sex that the mundane examinations of the act clang especially harshly. The instrumentals are a gorgeous amalgamation of echoing snaps, crackling static, and gyrating bass, perfectly accompanying Jeremih’s swaggering delivery and warbling falsetto. Much like his lyrics, the music itself invokes an air of wonder, one that is polluted by the rote sexual discussion of the features here. When the aqueous piano of “Impatient” accompanies Jeremih, the effect is ethereal; when it accompanies Ty Dolla $ign, it’s weighed down by his aggressive Auto-tuning and bluntness. And, really, it’s a shame, since a good portion of Late Nights: The Album is incredible. About three-quarters of the album is everything that makes R&B so special at this point in the genre’s evolution. And while there are some higher points (the sluggishly enfolding “Worthy” and the bumpin’ “Woosah”) as well as some lower ones (Migos drops an unexpected clunker on “Give No Fuks”), Jeremih’s consistency is admirable. That said, though, the large majority of the features drag Late Nights away from excellency. Jeremih is so, so good at creating a potent brew of all things sex — hopefully, he’ll strike out more on his own next time. Jeremih late nights album m4a download. Somewhere else, Late Nights gets abnormal, however never forgets about the starlit feel that makes it work so well. There's frequently after creation on Jeremih's voice, normally channels or straightforward pitch-moving, however on 'Fuck You All The Time', he two part harmonies with Natasha Mosely – herself likewise vocally controlled – and a second pitched-down variant of himself more than a calm, on occasion scarcely there beat driven by finger-snaps and blended rings. In the period of James Blake and the xx's ultra-open music, it feels precisely how craftsmen from the r'n'b world ought to be taking signs from the relative underground.