Leah Senior : How I Miss The Womb
Wonderfully skeletal arrangement of arpeggio guitar waves invoke golden era songwriters, an aesthetic that’s not so much homage or imitation – just a genuine respect for the craft. There’s no gimmicks with How I Miss The Womb, no trend alignment, just great songwriting.
TT The Artist : Gimme Yo Love
A charming club banger, indulging in saccharine with a more endearing approach than the PC Music stable, Gimme Yo Love grooves with homespun production and love-platitude imagery from TT The Artist. It feels like a piecemeal approximation of what a dancefloor stomper should sound like, but there’s magic in that. Addictive, but only in small doses.
Missy Elliott : WTF
Missy is a legend, a timeless legend, so it’s no surprise she’s slipped into modernity with the vitality of an up and comer and the finesse of a veteran. Some shonky guest bars from Pharrell, with some Rae Sremmurd style inflections, just emphasise how on point Missy is. Welcome back to royalty.
Enya : So I Could Find My Way
This is fucking sick. I am so fucking relaxed right now. Related: Orinoco Flow goes off chops at karaoke. New Enya heat Dark Sky Island dropping in time for Chrissy so you can grab it for mum as something to listen to while she rips cones in the garage.
Erykah Badu : Phone Down
The Year Of The Phone Song continues, with Erykah Badu following up her supreme rework of Hotline Bling with the thematic sequel Phone Down. Here Badu breaks down the fallible nature of meaningful communication over the phone, bringing it back to reality, void of melodrama. It resonates with a genuine, direct approach.
Emily Edrosa : The Corner Of The Party
Finding space in introspection, Street Chant’s Emily Edrosa meditates on chirping, down-tempo guitar licks and lo-fi drum machine clicks, building into a gentle cacophony. Drifts down an estuary similar to Kurt Vile, here under starlight.
Single Of The Week
Palm Springs : You Sold Your Car
Finding the meaning and politics in the mundane, Palm Springs are all heart, with each note drawn out to squeeze teardrops into your whiskey. Shades of Hank, heartbreak with zero kitsch, subtly brandishing an arresting power through a world weary pace. It’ll get you, and you’ll be awestruck when it does.
