Sam Fender: “People Watching”
I was obsessed with this song a few weeks back, and it still haunts me. It was one line that sold me: “And the beauty of youth would quell my aching heart.” Was I so touched because I remembered that feeling, or because I’d never felt it? Either way, the next line could have been mine: “Oh I feel so dark, remembering.” And when, having sat vigil beside a dying loved one in a crumbling care home in the second verse, Sam Fender revisited his motif – “And the beauty of youth had left my breaking heart” (emphasis mine) – the floodgates opened. I don’t care if the verse is a War on Drugs song (Adam Granduciel producing) or the chorus a shameless stadium fist-puncher that proves once and for all I’m no music snob, this is wall-of-sound elegiac rock bliss belted out with raw soul by the introverted northern English boy next door. I’d call it a guilty pleasure but I feel no guilt. Even the cheesy bridge doesn’t phase me.
Khruangbin: “May Ninth”
A delightful left-turn for Khruangbin, naive and charming and graced with shy delicate vocals reminiscent of My Bloody Valentine in their equal prioritising of man and woman, so that it’s unclear who is lead and who is harmony. The off-kilter mix, with plain simple bass up high and deft pretty guitar down low, emphasises the improbable nature of this dusty Stereolab-like gem, and the loping slow drums with high-tuned cracking snare seem to have been imported from another, funkier milieu. Tranquil and soothing and equal parts happy/sad, it’s about as authentic a creation as I’ve heard in recent pop music, and so natural in execution that it almost feels like scenery, like something Khruangbin discovered rather than crafted. I can’t hear the words except in snatches and I don’t care. An exercise in humility as rare as it is beguiling, this indie-pop lullaby soothes like nothing else.
Doechii: “Slide”
Another former obsession, though less intense than Sam Fender. There’s something about Doechii’s delivery here – equal parts rhythmic and melodic, and as if sung in some x-rated patois – that lights up my synapses, and makes me wanna bump and grind like Doechii does, even while spacing out in the ethereal backing vocals. I say it’s x-rated, but you’d barely know it. At first I found the lyrics indecipherable, not because I couldn’t hear them (I heard some) but because I couldn’t make them make sense. But it didn’t matter. To me, “Slide” is an urban Cocteau Twins, buried in the latter part of an impressive but slightly incoherent hip-hop album by a rapper who complains, in one rap, that her record company won’t let her sing. Well, she sings here, and it’s glorious. For a b-side, try “Wait”. “Denial is a River” is the hit, and it’s fun and dextrous, but it’s when she gets ghostly that Doechii really grooves.
Little Simz: “Mood Swings”
Unhinged but cohesive, minimal but kaleidoscopic, harsh and built almost wholly from percussion, this hybrid species of dance-adjacent experimentalism both places Nigerian North London rapper Simbiatu Ajikawo (AKA Little Simz) front and centre and scatters her to the four winds via a series of King Tubby-esque echo throws that dissolve in distorted haze at either edge of the stereo field. Sounds disorientating? It is, kinda, while also being natural, unforced, seductive, and shorn to the bone. Producer Jakwob (who graduated to whatever this sound is, so Wikipedia tells me, via jazz, folk, and death metal) is crucial, but only as a framer; it’s Simz who paints the picture. That picture is hazy, but I get the general gist: she’s being tugged every which way, and only the beat and her icy flow is keeping her centred. I dug Sometimes I Might Be Introvert but this, to me, is Little Simz at her most scintillating – sleek, modern, and set to explode.
Ahadadream x Priya Ragu x Skrillex x contra: “TAKA”
To me, this throwaway dance-pop pap has one of the most pleasing openings of any banger this year. Sure, it’s straightforward – you can almost see the grid, with layers building every four bars until the bass enters and the vocal hook takes precedence – but nuance abounds, from the hard-panned left-right vocal chop that kicks it off through the modulated reverbed melody and 80s-esque arpeggio to the pulsing pad and swelling beat, delays and tremolo fluttering all the while. It’s strange that Skrillex gets third billing, because not only are these 40 seconds a dense compendium of his favourite tricks, but the hook that’s subsequently so relentlessly exploited (“Taka-taka-ta”) is a clear nod to his recent Missy Elliot collaboration (“Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta”). Do I mind that this hook gets thrashed half to death by the song’s end? It’s not ideal, but I’ll live with it for 40 seconds of pure sunshine, and that “We’re feeling okay” breakdown doesn’t hurt.
Bonobo: “Expander”
Liking Bonobo makes me feel old. At his worst, with his home-sampled thrift-shop faux-orchestral arrangements, he can sound like an A.I. school band, and I generally skip any track he makes with a guest vocalist. That said, I love 2013’s The North Borders (minus the guest-vocalist tracks) and “Don’t Wait” is the best song Massive Attack never made. It’s cafe music, but hey, I spend a lot of time in cafes. “Expander” is a little different. Bonobo says this one came quickly, and it does have propulsion. As a case study in production it’s as educational as “TAKA” but flowing rather than steplike, more mysterious, less linear. I cringe a little at the jazz-vocal sample, not to mention the hip shouting man sample, but the soundscape is so rich and spacious I forgive these signs of agedness, and that breakdown three-quarters through, where his tweaking of the fat synth-bass gets gnarly, jolts me out of my cafe trance every time.
Floating Points: “Ocotillo”
Mad-scientist synths-jazz-and-rare-groove nerd crafts what may be the most surprising-yet-comforting musical journey of his career. From the glowing halo of reverb around guest Miriam Adefris’s harp to the moment that awesome bass throb enters at three minutes and plunges downward shortly after, only the twin harmonised arpeggiators give a semblance of cohesion. The tones here are so distinct, so many burbling/twinkling/pulsing elements each with its own segment of the frequency range, that it’s almost like a soil cross-section, layers of bright-coloured synth-sediment arrayed in seams, until at 6:30 the synths fall away and drums take over, with only an intermittent dive-bombing bass to remind us this was ever anything other than pure glitch. A three-part symphony of collectible retro electronics by a true experimenter, this is Sam Shepherd’s finest nine minutes since “Les Alpx (Extended)”, imho.
Disasterpeace: “Foxtail”
If you’re into ambient, game soundtracks are where it’s at, or so I’m told. Me, I discovered this game-soundtrack producer via a guy selling softsynth presets on the internet, one of whose packs referenced Disasterpeace’s 2016 soundtrack Hyper Light Drifter. Whereas that soundtrack was expansive and dynamic, his latest, Standstill, from which “Foxtail” is taken, is so delicate and subtle I generally forget I’m listening to it. This is high praise coming from me, since I often crave to be unchained from melodies or to think to my own beat. Disasterpeace allows me both via his most potent tool and his canvas, silence. Sounds morph and slide across it, often one by one, like creatures talking or forces of nature (gentle forces) interacting. As to “Foxtail” itself, I picked it almost at random. Soothing musical wallpaper cut from a wall full of it.
Charli XCX featuring Caroline Polachek: “Everything is Romantic"
As Nas wrote of Jay-Z in the diss-track “Ether”, “Eminem murdered you on your own shit”. Incredibly, on Charli XCX’s Brat remix album brat and it’s completely different but also still brat, Charli is murdered repeatedly, by Lorde, Billie Eilish, Ariana Grande, Bladee, and BB Trickz. All of them, from an American Idol perspective, would walk away with immunity if these tracks were battles, but that’s the thing, they’re not. They’re celebrations of the unique form that Brat invented: dance-pop confessionals with a plainspoken delivery adapted from Mike Skinner of The Streets. And Charli XCX, in a supreme power move, invites these mostly women to do their best. Here it’s the angelic-voiced Caroline Polachek whom she calls on to do the killing: “Hey, girl, what's up, how you been? I think I need your advice.” To which Caroline says, “It’s crazy, I was just thinking of you, what’s on your mind?” It gets me every time.
Fred again.. x Duskus x Four Tet x Joy Anonymous x Skrillex: “Glow”
I almost chickened out of including this track after reading some of Fred’s recent reviews. I even wrote a fun little piece on Four Tet, comparing him to Sy Snootles’s backing band trying to cop minimal techno, but then I put “Glow” on to make sure I hadn’t sold out and, well, I had. So I’m a pop tart, sue me! At the end of the day, if it gets me dancing I don’t care what the critics think, and Fred brings a touch of wistfulness, even innocence, to the dancefloor that I find rare. Now who knows, I’m old, so maybe everyone’s making feelgood emotive dance hits these days instead of the dystopian sci-fi numbers that used to rock the house in my day. But again, so what? I get why Fred sells out stadiums in minutes and if I have the good fortune to stumble on a room in which “Glow” is playing I will Bliss the Fuck Out, just try and stop me. He’s a great collaborator too; I can hear Four Tet in that twisted arpeggiator. Hopeful exit music.
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