TRACK OF THE WEEK
Wolf Alice
Yuk Foo
Raging valiantly against the Sheeranisation of British indie, Wolf Alice have spat out the most amusingly petulant hate song since Ugly Kid Joe. Yuk Foo is a thrilling, two-minute surge of self-indulgent punk fury that’s swearier than a Tory aide on election night. When Radio 1 played it the other day it sounded like singer Ellie Rowsell was doing a duet with the mute button. It’s not big and it’s not clever, but it is funny and cathartic. And if you don’t like it you can yuk off.
Dizzee Rascal
Space
The elephant in the room of the grime revival finally returns from his extended holiday in Magaluf to prove that he’s still got bars for days. Like a British Eminem, Dizzee is now too far removed from the scene to be pushing it forward – Space’s prowling trap beat is fairly standard – but lyrically he’s on another level. Or as he puts it: “It’s not a travesty / Call me Your Majesty / Sometimes it feels like the world’s on my phallus”. Your move, Wiley.
Kommode
Captain of Your Sinking Ship
There’ll always be room in this column for a spot of sad Scandi-disco, especially when a member of Kings of Convenience is involved. Kommode is the solo project of “even quieter one” Eirik Glambek Bøe, his voice still instantly evocative of mist on the harbour as he stoically contemplates the purchase of another expensive heritage sweater and wonders why nobody thought to tell him that his new band name means “adult potty” in the UK.
Coldplay
All I Can Think About is You
Well here’s a turn-up: a latter-day Coldplay single that isn’t just nauseating romcom fodder. Trading big and blustery for subtle and shimmering, not unlike early Verve or Radiohead’s Weird Fishes/Arpeggi, Chris Martin manages to keep a lid on it for almost three minutes before pressing the “Bono at Live Aid” button. Which for him is an act of Herculean restraint.
Calvin Harris ft Pharrell Williams, Katy Perry & Big Sean
Feels
Recent Calvin Harris singles have become egregious displays of Rolodex-flexing as he competes with DJ Khaled to see how many random guest stars he can cram on to a single track. Feels is a flimsy piece of jaunty ska-pop that sounds as if it took a lot less time to write than it did to personnel-manage. Harris would probably take that as an endorsement of his pop genius. But he shouldn’t – it’s awful.
