When a little over a year ago, Lorde said that he was working on his new album, which would be the continuation of the imperial Melodrama (2017), his fans went crazy. In addition, the New Zealander commented that part of the new material was inspired by the death of her dog. That ensured then that the taciturn artist would continue to be. The only doubt hovered over whether his delicious irony could sneak into the mourning for the deceased dog. Now, in an almost Copernican turn of events, Lorde reappears with the most optimistic theme of his career. It is even summery. Collaborating in the backing vocals are Clairo and Phoebe Bridgers – Lorde is no longer friends with Taylor Swift, now the new promises are the ones who are friends with Lorde – Jack Antonoff on a lot of things and Primal Scream provide a supposed accidental inspiration in this cut that , at times, is traced to Loaded of Bobby Gillespie’s. The result is a song that is just as far from being a bombshell as it is from being a backfire. It is a bit the theme for the summer ad for a beer that is drunk hot. XAVI SANCHO
The Great Hope of British Hip Hop in 2019 (Slowthai) joins the Great Hope of British Hip Hop in 2020 (Pa Salieu). The result is a fabulous song in which both rappers deal with a classic but constantly evolving theme: that you no longer care about anything. Are they too young for that? Is it too bad to be joking and bet on ataraxia as a vital positioning? Maybe, but these two are too smart to teach lessons. They have already told us what they have done on their albums, now they want to tell us what they are lazy to do. And dance on it. Sounds a base that mixes dancehall Y grime, and Pa Salieu paves the way for Slowthai to do what he does best: enter other people’s songs and smash them – he is the butronero of the hip hop current—, as we have already seen in his collaborations with Gorillaz or Mura Massa. These two should make a whole album together. X. S.
When in 2015, Vince Staples released his debut double album, Summertime 06It looked like he could rival Kendrick Lamar. Everything was in favor of this short-tempered genius. But, although his following references did not decrease in quality or in capacity for surprise – both the experimental Big Fish Theory like the holiday FM they are tremendous records—, the industry stopped laughing thanking him and he stopped wanting to be funny. So that? Now he announces two new albums after three years only collaborating on other people’s songs. He also has a Netflix series coming up for the fall. East Law of Averages is the letter of introduction of this new stage in the career of the Californian, more introspective, just as pissed off. It contains a base courtesy of Kenny Beats, a regular Staples contributor, which is cold and somewhat dislocated, accelerating and braking smoothly throughout the cut’s just over two minutes. Above the nasal voice of Staples and that attractive phrasing of his. Something good is coming. X. S.
Behold, Erlend Øye and Eirik Glambek Bøe, the duo from Bergen – the place that Karl Ove Knausgård so idyllically describes in his novels – has returned after 12 years of silence. And he has done it with a delicately balsamic shot of all people at the height, or beyond, of everything signed until his last assault, that close and pluperfect Declaration of Dependence (2009). A kind of loving instruction manual, or what we should do to let ourselves be carried away to the other, abandoning ourselves and at the same time abandoning the known world to found another of our own. The perfect preview of an album not in vain called Peace or Love, in which peace is synonymous with an undesirable loneliness, and love, a war to face with patience and passion. Feist’s voice only elevates the result – that pop capsule unplugged tan made in Kings Of Convenience— to a new maximum power. Welcome back. LAURA FERNÁNDEZ
With the ethereal touch of a americana that hybridizes towards a type of pop with a firm eighties melody, as luminously evocative as it is nostalgic, Joana Serrat molds this cut from her recent and justly celebrated – all over the world – fifth album, a Hardcore from the Heart that has crept into the chart of British American, next to titans like Neil Young, John Hiatt and Bruce Springsteen. His determined and unique bet on an American made in Spain, already outlined from the beginning with that self-published The Relief Sessions (2012), but especially with Dear Great Canyon (2014), he drinks from everything he has heard and from the need not to fit in anywhere and create his own path, until opening concerts out there for The Handsome Family or The Jayhawks. Here, she hurts from lonely hotel nights and her incompatibility with any kind of sorrow, especially the sorrow for lost love or that which has not yet been found. L. F.
Says Leon Bridges, the guy who Big Little Lies made almost as world famous as Michael Kiwanuka, that the album to which this sensually potent Why Don’t You Touch Me was conceived in something like paradise for a singer soul. That is, whole nights surrounded by good musicians getting carried away and composing pieces of an album that, he says, is the most he has published to date. Well, right out of the box, Bridges pleads, in a r’n’b between classic and propelled to a present in which the drum machine commands, a girl for whom he is beginning to disappear, to do something if she still loves him as he says. Disencounter, parallel stories and a very careful production for this second installment of the imminent Gold-Diggers Sound, a third album that moves away from the sound of the fifties and sixties that made him famous. L. F.
Quique González returns with a new single that anticipates his next album, South in the valley, scheduled for October. After The words lived, the musician continues in his compositional introspection and, moving away from the most rock-like Tom Petty precepts that also define him, he gives an elegant halftime within his particular and fascinating look at folk written in Spanish. With that light and precious air, González creates an intimate atmosphere, in which the percussion beats like an unveiled heart and the strings refinedly set the thoughts of a guy looking for his way, embellished by that guitar solo flavored with the old Torrelaguna sound. There is a very Joe Henry imprint in this song in which González once again offers us powerful verses, with images so cinematographic, so his. “The ballad of a predator sounded in the taxi back / You no longer take the knife from anyone / Are you happy or is it just the first impression?” FERNANDO NAVARRO
A Margo Price it is already seen as a transcendent voice in the scene of the country-rock from Nashville. A composer and singer with a wonderful pasta, who follows in the wake of the best voices of recent times such as Nikki Lane or Lydia Loveless. This song is the first to come in 2021 after the acclaimed album That’s How Rumors Get Started, in which he unleashed all his cowgirl claw. Now, even more accelerated to charge against American puritanism and give a pulse to all those who want to see pretty girls as mere objects of desire. The fierceness of the guitars and their screams, which could well be signed by a Lucinda Williams pissed off with life, give account of a forceful interpreter, a voice of her own in a scene always too masculine that today, luckily, is enjoyed by women capable of knocking down any man. F. N.
Within the avalanche of new Spanish urban artists, it is convenient to stop at Dollar Selmouni, a Mallorcan musician, gypsy and of Algerian parents. These references are not free. Dollar’s personality comes from there: he sings with a certain flamenco fondness and from the land of his parents he picks up the swaying rhythms. It sounds original, street and at the same time accessible. After an album with repercussions in the genre niche, he has just been signed by the multinational Warner, so his presence from now on will be more visible, such as his recent and recommended stint at The resistance. The talent is put by him with songs like Clandestine, accompanied by the forceful Fernandocosta, a song that while maintaining the commitment to the street could sound in the commercial channels. CARLOS MARCOS
Is rock dead? Ha As long as there are groups like Bala, don’t ever bury it. A duo of women (Anxela, guitarist, and Violeta, drums, both sing) who from Galicia propose visceral music that sounds the same as grunge that to punk and that it is an update of the strong rock. Labels aside, the duo weave cutting guitar arms with fierce vocals that tell deviously engaging stories. “You have found me sleeping with a frown. / And I have not been able to confess to you how it torments me in my dreams that time passes without being able to squeeze it in the early mornings “, starts this shake, which belongs to his third album, Undergrowth. They have toured Europe and the United States and it is about time that we vindicate them here. C. M.
Eddie is an Australian news reporter with over 9 years in the industry and has published on Forbes and tech crunch.