Whereas Dorrey’s art work is well-known, his SoundCloud web page looks like an open secret. As DORIS, he’s uploaded over 100 moody, snippet-sized journeys into his psyche, heavy on pitched-up melodies and self-produced loops and dance beats that pattern any and every little thing: kompa, disco, Southern rap, sadboy rock, no matter is viral on TikTok, and a few good ol’ long-established soul. “I’m actually within the weeds, bro, niggas that basically take heed to music pattern,” says Dorrey, a month earlier than his exhibit, in his Flatbush bed room. “Once I was round 20 I came upon about Dean Blunt’s sampling and it launched me to how you might achieve this a lot with so little.”

It took me some time to even understand that Frank Dorrey and DORIS had been the identical particular person. And, as soon as I knew, it made sense, as each the songs and digital artwork supply a warped, kaleidoscopic take a look at the mundanities of on a regular basis life. It’s as if disparate recollections are stitched collectively, the sense of nostalgia heightened by the samples. These scenes typically really feel surreal but relatable, like his five-part “Aspect Nigga” sequence, a spaced-out rom-com, as melancholy and eerie as it’s cute and lustful. “I like storytelling, suspense, shit that’s wacky, or no matter I’m going by means of in my interpersonal relationships,” he says, laughing even when he’s critical. There are occasions while you gained’t be solely positive what’s occurring, however the blurriness provides you the house to fill within the blanks utilizing your individual creativeness.

Raised in Linden, New Jersey, to a Haitian household, Dorrey was the sort of child whose pocket book was crammed with doodles. He tells me of a narrative he used to attract a few child, based mostly on himself, who used to go round combating with an enormous pencil. The madcap brightness of his art work and music was knowledgeable by cartoons (Naruto, Pretty Odd Mother and father) and the radiant colours and patterns his dad and mom wore. (For those who come from a Haitian household, like me, you recognize they love some loud-ass garments.) The thought to start out drawing on his cellphone got here naturally, just because he was all the time on it. He began making music in highschool, a lot of the identical course of; the selection to change his voice so drastically was easy: “I wished to be some other place with the music and for it to not be so centered on me. It took the seriousness out of it in a manner.”

Sitting on his mattress, in sweats and Crocs, his locs wrapped in a shawl, Dorrey factors out to me gadgets in his room that maintain sentimental worth. As he describes each, principally drawings and collectible figurines from pals, a playlist that weaves between storage, R&B, and mellow hip-hop drifts within the background. Slowly, the room goes darkish because the solar units; now, the one mild comes from Dorrey’s lighter when he decides to smoke. I believed it was a bit of odd, however simply chalked it as much as an artist being an artist. Abruptly, he notices, too. “Oh, shit, I used to be being mad ominous” he says, by means of a stomach snort so laborious and loud that he rolls over on his again. “I gotta chill; what the hell was I doing?” At all times misplaced in his personal world.

Throwback rapper film nook: Ice Dice in 2004’s Torque

What if I advised you there was a mid-2000s ode to post-9/11 America and Mountain Dew the place Ice Dice is the chief of a South Central biker gang and that revolves round a set piece the place he will get into a bike struggle on high of a bullet-fast transferring prepare? For those who’re a kindred spirit of mine, your solely response can be, “Hearth that shit up!” Nicely, you’re in luck, as a result of it does exist as music video director Joseph Kahn’s adrenaline-fueled and deranged Torque, a ripoff or send-up of Quick & Livid, relying on who you ask. The film, filled with all of the shit we love on this column—themes of brotherhood, Fredro Starr performing turns—facilities on the considerably generic Martin Henderson as a drifter who returns to city to clear his title from a crystal meth body job. (Adam Scott is the sketchy FBI agent making an attempt to trace him down.) That’s what we name timeless storytelling: It sort of performs like a Western on bikes as a substitute of horses. So, sure, we get tons of team-ups (Christina Millian is right here!), showdowns (one way or the other, bikes are used extra like swords), and life classes that belong below a Snapple cap, and Dice’s gang is caught in the course of all of it. If none of that appeals to you, then I’ll spoil an excellent second for you: At one level, the crew rides off into the desert whereas Nickelback’s “Sometime” blasts manner too fucking loudly.