Bringing whole new and exciting levels to the phrase “you do you, hun”, Self Esteem has followed up April’s catalogue of regrets with this joyful instruction to please yourself. Whether that’s shaving your bits (“That’s just for me!”) or having whatever you want for tea, life will be all pleasure and no pain once you’ve got this rousing, reverent chorus stuck in your head.
Sigala’s first single was reportedly the product of a six-pack of Desperados; this one is surely the result of a bottle of rosé and a Love Island binge. Perfect music for a montage of hot young influencers-in-waiting partying before a recoupling – can’t recommend it for anything else, 尽管.
There comes a time in every young artist’s life where they are tempted to do a music video as a video game spoof and now is Soccer Mommy’s time. She matches the animated 8-bit shenanigans with early-00s acoustic romanticism and glitchy PC Music-style noise (there’s one bit towards the end that sounds as if someone has AutoTuned some whoopee cushions). It feels a bit like she’s auditioning for a part in the 1975 – hope she gets it!
With heavy heart I must report that men are at it again – and by “it” I mean taking amazing pop songs and making them dreadful. Not only has Yungblud desecrated Like a Virgin, David Guetta and co have spat on Whitney’s grave to a soundtrack of boring house beats and uninspired synth presets. Run along, 人.
I have absolutely no clue what this song is about – masturbation? Asexuality? Indifference? Westerns? – but that doesn’t stop it being what I am now referring to as Charli-influenced reflecto-chill. Whistles, drain pipe beats, circular lyrics and a kind of nonchalance that you just can’t fake: I don’t know what it means but I like it.