There’s a lot of noise out right now.
Songs engineered for algorithms. Hooks built for 15-second clips. Artists manufactured instead of developed. It’s loud. It’s catchy. It’s everywhere.
But it doesn’t nourish you.
And when you’ve been consuming too much of it, you can feel it.
It’s like junk food for your ears.
That’s why I said:
"If bad music, talentless artists, and non-creative sounds are the disease…Then Jill Scott’s new album "To Whom It May Concern" is the vaccine."
And I meant that.
What Makes Something a “Vaccine”?
A vaccine doesn’t just mask symptoms.
It restores balance.
It strengthens your system.
It reminds your body what healthy looks like.
That’s what real artistry does.
When Jill Scott releases music, you hear:
● Intentional songwriting
● Live instrumentation
● Vocal control
● Emotional maturity
● Space in the mix
You hear craft.
Her album "To Whom It May Concern" feels like a reset button in a world oversaturated with synthetic sound. It’s layered. It breathes. It trusts the listener.
It doesn’t chase.
It doesn’t beg.
It doesn’t scream for attention.
It simply is.
And that’s rare now.
The Bigger Conversation
This isn’t really about one artist.
It’s about what happens when culture lowers its standards.
When we reward:
● Volume over substance
● Virality over vulnerability
● Speed over skill
We start normalizing mediocrity.
And the more we consume it, the more our ears adjust downward.
Until something soulful hits.
Then suddenly you remember what music is supposed to feel like.
Depth. Warmth. Texture.
The Coffee Parallel (Because You Know I’m Going There)
This is the same thing that happens with coffee.
Drink enough over-roasted, flat, commodity coffee and you think:
“This is just what coffee tastes like.”
Then you try something sourced with intention. Roasted with care. Balanced instead of burnt.
And your palate wakes up.
You realize:
You weren’t drinking coffee.
You were drinking noise.
That’s the difference between mass production and craftsmanship.
Whether it’s music or a cup in your hand.
Enter Amahri
That’s exactly where Amahri from Aveek Coffee Co fits into this conversation.
Amahri isn’t loud.
It isn’t burnt.
It isn’t trying to overpower you.
It’s balanced.
Built from East African beans — Kenya, Tanzania, Ethiopia — it carries:
● Toffee and caramel warmth
● Chocolate depth
● Subtle red fruit brightness
● A soft floral finish
It’s layered.
Just like real music.
Amahri doesn’t hit you with bitterness to prove it’s strong.
It unfolds.
It gives you richness without aggression. Brightness without sharpness. Comfort without being flat.
It’s the “grown folks playlist” of coffee.
The kind of cup you sit with.
Not rush through.
If over-processed music is the disease,
Over-roasted coffee is its cousin.
And just like soul music recalibrates your ears,
Intentional coffee recalibrates your palate.
Why This Matters
Art shapes culture.
So does what we consume daily.
Music influences mood. Thought. Energy.
Coffee influences rhythm. Focus. Presence.
When the dominant sound is shallow, rushed, or creatively bankrupt, it does something to us collectively.
When what we drink is careless and commoditized, it does the same.
But when soul reenters the room — in music or in your mug — it recalibrates you.
It reminds you that excellence still exists.
That growth still matters.
That maturity is powerful.
That craftsmanship doesn’t have to scream to be respected.
A Personal Reflection
There’s something about grown, layered artistry that feels grounding.
It doesn’t feel desperate.
It doesn’t feel forced.
It feels confident.
It feels complete.
And maybe that’s what we’re really craving — not just better music, but better craftsmanship in everything.
Better standards.
Better taste.
Less noise.
More soul.
So yes…
If bad music is the disease,
Then real artistry is the vaccine.
And if over-roasted, forgettable coffee is the disease,
Then something intentional — something like Amahri — is the cure in your cup.
Not hype.
Not noise.
Just depth.
And sometimes, all it takes is one album —
or one cup —
to remind you that your ears, your palate, and your standards are still intact.
