Ariana Grande
No Tears Left to Cry
Big, this. Gigantically big. Suppose it had to be: Grande is on the cusp of a fourth album, in that weird liminal space between “gigantically, massively famous” and “can’t just trot out the same old thing, though”. So, NTLTC is exactly what it needs to be: massive, lung-busting notes; weirdly Madonna-esque ooh–oohs; a sound-of-the-summer beat and a bit where she sings “shut your mouth”. Big. Huge. Enormous.
Sean Paul ft Major Lazer
Tip Pon It
The Seanpaulaissance marches ever on. There is something quite soothing about it, in a way: the rock-solid knowledge that somewhere, out there, at all times, Sean Paul is recording another summer banger with another new contributor, presumably while wearing really expensive studded trainers and some $600 sunglasses. Listen: as long as Sean Paul is having fun, I’m having fun.
Naughty Boy ft Ray BLK & Wyclef Jean
All or Nothing
I find myself forgetting about this song halfway through, which might be because of the distraction of the impending summer: outside is bright and yellow and luscious, and I want to be out in it, eating a Solero dipped in a Corona, and not here listening to yet another Wyclef Jean ft. It might also be because this is quite such an inoffensive summer jam.
Lykke Li
Deep End
Another song doomed by the weather, because Deep End is a banger destined for 2am laptop-screen reflection, or staring out of a window from a skyscraper as the city at night buzzes neon beneath it. Plus, the “Indigo/ Deep blue/ Deep blue” bit is a great hook that’s impossible to sing along to when you’re three ciders deep in a sunsetty London park, which is where I intend to be for the next four months. Re-release it in September, ta.
Khalid ft 6LACK, Ty Dolla $ign
OTW
To me every Ty Dolla $ign song sounds a bit like a pocket call he made to your girlfriend’s answerphone, and she’s playing it back to you, laughing: “Can you believe this guy! Aha. No, I met him at a party once; nothing happened”, and you both try to get on with your meal (Zizzi) but then she checks her texts and is like: “Oh. I forgot I … had a thing,” then immediately goes outside and gets in an Uber. That’s what OTW sounds like: you, paying for two affordable Italian meals on your debit card, knowing that deep down you’ve lost her.
