Review: “Agitate” by Farrow
Headed by socialist folk Singer/Songwriter MYQ F, Farrow’s debut album, Agitate, continues the legacy of Woody Guthrie’s establishment-challenging politick and Lizzo’s heartfelt rebellion in purely unfettered lyricism. Farrow’s work embraces predecessors like Parliament Funkadelic and Sly Stone, in a beautiful symmetry between P-Funk, Jam, R&B/Soul, and Old-School Folk.
Agitate aims to do everything it’s title claims, with lyrics unafraid to turn every dancefloor into a protest rally, blending a sound from the past all for the purposes of confronting our present. A band comprised of not only of singer/lyricist Michael Farrow, but also André Pilette on bass/production; Tim Webb on drums, Michael Ruopoli on percussion, Cory Clancy on guitar, Rufus “Breezy” Cole Jr. on keys, and Danielle Johnson on backing vocals, Farrow presents a soundtrack to our nation’s most under-looked issues through the lenses of Buffalo, NY.
There are songs like “Tiptoe,” which addresses the brutality of gentrification and acts of white supremacy under the guise of “development.” In “Breathing Air,” Farrow invites listeners of all kinds into the neighborhoods of Buffalo’s east side, to see what happens to a neighborhood that knows neglect all too well. “Breathing Air” speaks of food deserts on the city’s east side, and the systematic encroachment of Black folks across WNY, but especially the Tops Market Massacre, which left dozens dead and still leaves a whole community in the disarray of racist violence.
There are also songs here that simply message without ever being sung, “yes we know this world is fucked, and the system is just accelerating this destruction but also we refuse to let this system destroy us!” Farrow embraces the ideals of joy and self-love as revolutionary acts, a defiance in still fighting for ones community while not letting such a fight kill one’s happiness. Underneath the funkified rhythms, the soulful voices of Danielle Jonson and Michael Farrow, are messages of loving oneself in the most unapologetic way: loudly and boldly.
Farrow provides more than just a great set of tunes to blast through one’s dashboard, or to dance chaotically through the sprawling knolls of an outdoor concert’s fairgrounds. Farrow’s work translates a message through a mix of witty, and brutally honest songwriting, boisterous drum kicks, encompassing keyboard rolls, Bootsy-bumping basslines, and guitar licks filled with more flavor than a Mr. Softee Ice Cream truck.
In Farrow’s “Steal My Joy,” there’s a verse that sort of acts like an unintentional outro, “They may pay me nothing, they may force me to run, they may hit up my bank account, they may put an end to all my funds, they may call me foolish, they may say I’m weak and dumb, they may threaten my livelihood, they may put out their guns…,” and ends with the rhetorical question, “You know what they ain’t gonna do today? Steal my Joy!” Farrow’s sound is a relentless joy. A joy that still acknowledges the oppressive realities of a racist system, but refuses to let these moments of pessimism weaponize their communities into submission. In the end, Gospel doesn’t require a god, it only requires a set of truths to live by. Farrow’s debut album is a gospel all its own, a gospel that lives by the balance of not forgetting about the world and all of the horrors it offers, but also turning joy into a powerful reminder: we will not be defeated.
