Member Reviews
"๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ด โ ๐บ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ ๐ถ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ ๐ข๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ฑ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐บ ๐ง๐ณ๐ช๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ด."
On paper, this is exactly what I should like as a club kid myself, but I found the collection to remain as surfaced-level as house parties go. At times, the prose lifts from the page to make me appreciate the sweet nights of kisses and gatherings and midnight antics, but just as fleeting. Form and function with the inclusion of photographs in here are what make the collection sing and string together a bit better.
Gorgeous poetry about a long running house party in London, the longing for a very specific time of your life that's gone now, and some astounding pictures to go with it. Definitely pick it up.
๐ป๐๐ ๐พ๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ ๐ญ๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฎ๐ญ๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐ข๐ญ ๐ฆ๐๐๐ง๐ฌ ๐ญ๐จ ๐๐ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐ , ๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ค, ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฅ๐ข๐๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐๐ฌ๐ญ. ๐๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ฏ๐ข๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ฆ๐จ๐๐๐ซ๐ง ๐๐จ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐๐๐ฉ๐ข๐๐ญ๐ฌ ๐ ๐ง๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐๐ญ ๐ ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐ญ๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก ๐๐ฅ๐๐ ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ฌ๐จ๐ง๐ง๐๐ญ๐ฌ, ๐ญ๐๐ฑ๐ญ ๐ฆ๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ ๐๐ฌ, ๐ฉ๐ก๐จ๐ญ๐จ๐ ๐ซ๐๐ฉ๐ก๐ฌ, ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฎ๐ง๐ข๐ช๐ฎ๐ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ฆ๐๐ญ๐ฌ. ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐งโ๐ญ ๐ฉ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐จ๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ฐ๐ง! ๐๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฌ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ซ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐จ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐๐ค ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐ฑ๐๐ข๐ญ๐๐ฆ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐จ๐ ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ง๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐จ๐ ๐๐ญ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ญ๐จ ๐๐๐ง๐๐, ๐๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐ซ๐๐, ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ญ๐ ๐ฅ๐ข๐๐ ๐๐จ๐ซ ๐จ๐ง๐ ๐ง๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐ ๐ฌ๐ข๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ญ๐๐ง๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ฉ๐๐ซ ๐ก๐ฎ๐ฆ๐๐ง ๐๐ฆ๐จ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐ฌ.
๐ฏ๐ฝ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐๐ท ๐น๐๐๐พ, ๐น๐ถ๐๐๐ถ๐, ๐ฎ๐๐๐ถ๐๐, & ๐ข๐พ๐๐๐๐, & ๐ฉ๐๐๐ข๐ถ๐๐๐๐ ๐ป๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐
๐! ๐๐๐ ๐๐
๐พ๐๐พ๐๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐.
Caleb Femi's composition of The Wickedest is superb with time stamps marking the progression of the event this collection celebrates. Described as a 'modern epic', Femi explores the 'institution' of house parties through stunning lyricism married with hazy, kaleidoscopic photographs. We are transported to the vibrancy, heady and breathing walls of the house in which people are dancing, falling in love, and drowning their sorrows.
The Wickedest is a masterful follow up to Poor, particularly in regards to how it positively embraces culture. This collection is palpably free and wholly symbolic of what it portrays.
I'm thinking about the "long poem" in relation to what Stephanie Burt has written about the form, namely questions of: "What holds a book of poems together? What makes it feel like something more than, something other than, a gathering, a stack, a heap, a mere collocation?"
Caleb Femiโs The Wickedest provides an easy and effortless answer: a nightclub, an epic party, a dance that never ends. The Wickedest is a sweaty & intoxicating poem, glowing luminescent darkness all the way through. The only comp that comes to mind might be Tommy Pico's IRL, or Luke Kennard's Sonnets (a collection of poems set in a sad house party). Where Kennard is more formalistic and philosophical, Femi is nimble and playful with language and form; this is language that dances on the page. There's a shutter-like quality to the speaker's eye as they move through the space of the club, weaving in and out of moments that range from existential (03.51am, "Max glances at Shelly") to diabolically comical ("Should you have fear or respect for the person who takes a shit at a house party?"). I love the way Femi describes DJs as weaving sound into "sonic Matryoshka dolls / (inside a song / is another song singing)"; so much of his language lingers in the hot glow of remembering that what makes a good party experience are those ineffable moments on the dance floor, moments where you lock eyes with a stranger and music pours back and forth between people who don't even know each other's names.
I already know a few friends who I will gift this book to once it comes out, friends who don't usually read poetry, yet who will understand when they see a thing they love being written about with such quick and sharp care.
A note on the digital edition: a lot of the photographs appear pixelated or low-res, not sure if this was an intentional choice on Femi's part (it does fit with the book's overall aesthetic) but I found myself squinting to read photos that contained text, like in "Jevon catches the fever" and the "Promotion Event Risk Assessment Form" (p. 34 of ebook). I haven't checked yet but I do hope there is alt text for the photographs, as they feel like an essential part of the book's vocabulary and flow.
I didn't like it. Felt lacking in substance, A lot of noise, but the poetry is weak on satisfaction, not sure what the point of the work is, what the writer is trying to say. Feels like a desire to be cool, wouldn't recomend. The vibes are just off.